#will keep adding to this ofc but here’s pretty much everything I’ve written for them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ialwaysknewyouwerepunk · 3 years

Text

fine line - a close reading

gonna cry bc i’m at the end, gonna cry bc it’s fine line.

(x x x)

want to give the same disclaimer as with lights up: this song is so layered, so multi-faceted, that i could never hope to give an exhaustive analysis. due to its vagueness and openness for interpretation, i assume that everyone, just like me, has their own ideas about it and has attached importance to it in ways that no one else’s words can or should alter. this song means the world to me for reasons that aren’t necessarily in this post, and that’s how it is with art that touches us deeply. i’ve tried my best to pull it apart, lay it bare, spread it open, if you will, so it’s almost as free as it can be for you all to form your own opinion on it. in the synthesis i will make my own conclusions, but feel free to ignore that if yours are totally different. i’m just one set of brain and heart taking in fine line and projecting whatever i think is right onto it. alright, let’s go

fine line, track 12

sung in falsetto

live version at the form: first verse not sung in falsetto - after first chorus goes into falsetto - like “thinking of her” has summoned her

Put a price on emotion

pouring emotions into the art you create: how much is genuine / how much do you show - line between being authentic to your audience and giving away too much, wanting to keep things to yourself and not feeling truthful with what you’ve written

exploits of the industry: lay your soul bare - or the exact opposite, some pretend emotion - to score that hit

I'm looking for something to buy

cynical. emotions aren’t genuine, right? where can i go buy some?

～ lights up themes. fake life, industry, being a sell-out

You've got my devotion

But man, I can hate you sometimes

“you” = career, music, Harry Styles™. devoted to the craft, to the job, all the ups and downs of it, despite the hardships it brings

“man” is deliberate: can be seen as an offhand interjection, like “man, that’s rough”, but nothing is casually placed in this song. “man” is: The Man, the heads in the industry, the people pulling the strings. The man in Harry, the man he’s been in the media all these years, the part he’s played/had to play, the man that’s in him

⟶ “hate you”: hate for industry shit, self-hate created by having to play pretend (～ only angel analysis, the persona of the Bukowski womaniser)

“sometimes” - it’s not fucked up all the time

“you” could also be a lover, but the sudden “hate” there then would be for that person, which is absent in any other song about them, doesn’t make any sense

I don't want to fight you

And I don't want to sleep in the dirt

like there’s a choice to me made, but he doesn’t want to make it: either I fight this “you” or I sleep in the dirt

“you” as the industry: if he doesn’t fight them, he might end up being a beggar, lose all his self-worth bc he gave in to everything they asked/told him to do

“you” as himself: fight your instincts, part of who you are/the persona. if he doesn’t fight to figure himself out, though, he fears he’ll also lose

“sleep in the dirt” as a sense of rejection, as well

We'll get the drinks in

So I'll get to thinking of her

drinks to cope - falling, only angel, from the dining table - or to be braver and confront emotions better - tbsl

who is “we”? who is “her”?

narrative of “you” as “lover” further disproven: if “I” and the lover get together over drinks and “I” starts thinking of “her”?

⟷ “her” could be the lover, but then who is “you”? the industry? some other person, besides that lover, harry is devoted to? multiple lovers, all of a sudden? no.

⟶ “I” and “you” are all harry, that get to thinking of “her” because she is in daydreams with him. the narrative that harry is fighting a part of him, the persona he has (had) to play bc of industry limits, makes most sense. that persona is within him now, and part of his work, but all of him, “we”, is begging to come into the light - of which she is a huge part

We'll be a fine line

balancing act. let everything coexist but pay attention that those lines don’t get crossed the wrong way. what we are, what i am, is a fine line between what makes us go under and what lets us thrive

we will be: determination to fulfil this prophecy, statement of fact “we always will be”

“we’ll be a fine line”: other way of interpreting it is that on both sides of that line is what entails “we”, all that is harry. what merges on that fine line is where it’s just right, when harry is fully himself in every way

“fine line” can also be an echo of criticism, bigotry, in the style of: it’s a fine line between being simply flamboyant and queer, between dressing like that and people thinking you’re a transvestite or summat (cause we wouldn’t want that, now, would we) - “we’ll be a fine line” could be owning all of it. putting himself in the middle of all those messy lines, as someone queer without a category

Test of my patience

patience with himself - kindness to self - took a long time to figure shit out and it was a challenge

waiting for change: industry and its allowances/openness

There's things that we'll never know

my favorite line

“we” = harry / harry and company / us in general, all of us listening

～ tpwk “i don’t need all the answers”: deep sense of acceptance

peace to be found in accepting this!!

You sunshine, you temptress

“sunshine” - as in all the love songs (blue skies, sunflowers, summer days…): lover - possible that there are multiple “you”s in this song?

sunshine could ofc also be directed at the temptress, still

female “temptress” - “i’ll get to thinking of her” - she - it’s tempting for harry to think of her all the time, to lose himself in the “her” in him

other interpretation for “temptress”: woman he knows with negative influence in his life - resemblance to woman “you flower, you feast”, so echo of Bukowski ～ only angel, kiwi (my sunshine, my love, who is involved with this temptress…)

My hand’s at risk, I fold

⟷ tpwk “dropping into the deep end”

not showing his cards just yet / forfeits

anxious to show all of him, to take the chance, with all the risks and consequences involved

Crisp trepidation

I’ll try to shake this soon

nervousness, anxiety - about (not) taking (enough) chances, (not) laying himself bare (release of the album that reveals much more than before)

“crisp” fresh, this feeling is unfamiliar - change is coming “soon”

sense of agency: I can get rid of this feeling by my own volition and make these changes - hesitant, insecure: “try”

wants to be braver. he’s not going back, but still needs to calmly coax himself further and further into the light, out into the open (“we’ll be alright”)

Spreading you open

Is the only way of knowing you

(can anyone else hear “spread thin” like a whisper under “spreading”? or am i imagining things.)

“you” is back - the only way of knowing “you” is to spread them open - the physical

to spread someone open - very literal, don’t need to paint the picture, or to lay bare, to lay it all out

⟶ “you” as himself - the only way of knowing who i am is by doing this: writing this album, performing these songs, letting others listen in and form their own interpretations, let this world grow where i’m laid bare and OPEN and exist as this person who has issues, who is angry, who doesn’t know who he is a lot of the time, but is still so happy to be here - let it spread and let it all circle back to me so i can grow deeper into myself

We'll be a fine line

We'll be alright

“we” = h & self, h & lover, h & fans

collectiveness from tpwk

(notes on a piano sounding like drops, like he’s emerged from the water and dripping dry)

SYNTHESIS

Everything about this song is plural. Personal pronouns are all over the place. I, you, her, we. The sound is incredibly layered, with Harry’s own voice echoing through its verses like he’s singing to himself in an empty cave. Meanings can be attached to every word like it’s a wax tablet used too many times. What Harry has said in interviews for once holds pretty true to the actual meaning, in my opinion.

“It felt like it described to me the process of making it and how the album felt in terms of the different kinds of songs on it.” (Capital FM)

This can mean a lot of things, and I think it means all of the things, of course. It means Fine Line is a summary of all of his emotions he visited on the album, of the things he’s laid bare. And it means that the actual process was also described, as one that can be frustrating and challenging, with added industry shit.

Harry has expressed straightforward gratefulness to his label for "leaving (him) alone” while making the album and that speaks volumes. This time, he had the chance to make his art without the constant interference of a label, which meant he could weave in criticism as well. “Put a price on emotion” is first and foremost a critique on the industry. It’s the first line of the song, setting the tone for the interpretation of this song is about the risks I took while making this album. It involves criticism on an industry that creates such an atmosphere that only a certain type of music and artist breaks through or can be successful, that limits people in their personal expression. Convinces them that it’s better that way. That it’s better to hide who they love because the general public won’t accept them. That it’s better to create a song about a fake emotion than be honest. Harry loves writing songs and being on stage, but it’s taken a while for him to be fully comfortable there as a solo artist and bloom into the person that could make Fine Line. He loves his career, but it’s also limited his freedom in ways beyond our comprehension, and it’s exploited him to the point where he didn’t know who he was, in ways that have clearly taken a toll on his mental wellbeing. To a point where he finishes this album reassuring himself, most of all, that everything will be alright.

That process of making Fine Line obviously includes Harry confronting emotions he hadn’t before. He has stated that he experienced the highest highs and the lowest lows while making it. There are things he hates, he was fighting but doesn’t want to (anymore), uncertainties he was trying to figure out but had to accept he couldn’t, risks he still doesn’t know he can take without shaking. At the centre of it all is this sense of “knowing you.” The different personal pronouns in the song paint a fractured picture, which is ultimately deliberate. That the “you” Harry is devoted to and can hate sometimes doesn’t line up with “her,” that the end focus does seem to be this “you” that is mentioned in the same breath as “man” and “temptress,” forming the “we” together with “I”.

After having songs like Lights Up, She, Falling and even TPWK, one of the central themes on the album has undoubtedly been self-discovery, in all its pain and glory. There are no female pronouns on the album besides, obviously, in She, and then here, in Fine Line. She is about a man living with a woman “just in his head”, who “sleeps in his bed while he plays pretend.” It is very clearly a trans narrative, the story of someone struggling to put into words what they’re experiencing in terms of gender. To a point that they fantasise about running away. Fine Line brings the ideas of knowing what it all means, which Lights Up kicks off (“do you know who you are?”), Falling deepens (“what am I now?”) and Treat People With Kindness turns on its head (“I don’t need all the answers”), together. Harry is still doubtful, and the questions asked earlier in the album haven’t disappeared, but he has accepted that “some things we’ll never know.” His aim, however, is still “knowing you.”

To have Fine Line, as the summary of these emotions of self-growth and self-discovery, echo that one female pronoun, speaks volumes. It is a direct reference to She, to that story about gender. “Her” in this song refers to “she (who) lives in daydreams with (him).” The one who still only fully comes out when they’ve had a drink. The one he’s still working to include in who he is, as he tries to figure out who he is, all of it. The song where he sings in falsetto, just like on Fine Line. Of which he sang the first verse an octave lower live at the forum, switching between those voices, those perspectives. That’s also why “you” in this song is also Harry to me. We get this fractured sense of self, this “I” and “you” conversing over a drink, this “you” Harry is devoted to and wants to figure out. “You” and “I” form “we” and all of them are Harry. The lines are blurry on purpose, there is no way to figure out where “you” ends and “I” begins.

“You sunshine, you temptress” is the most enigmatic line in that respect, and to me blurs those lines even more between the pronouns. “You” is suddenly also identified by a female noun. And no this isn’t about some kind of love triangle. “Sunshine” aligns with all the odes to his lover in the rest of the album. So what does that mean? That there are multiple “you”s in this song, meaning that Harry is addressing both his lover and a temptress? So “her” he’ll get to thinking of, the only other female pronoun used in the song, is identified as a temptress, but tempting to do what? To take risks? And no I won’t forget the “man, I can hate you sometimes,” where "man” is not a casual interjection but an identifier of “you.”

Or is it an echo of “the light” from Golden’s “bring me back to the light” and Light’s Up’s “step into the light”? So that the “sunshine” symbolises being in the clear, being out of the darkness running through his heart, the darkness caused by not knowing who you are. “You sunshine,” you beacon of light. “You temptress,” risk-taker and source of anxiety. You, one I need to spread open to figure out, to know about, source of happiness and despair, one I’m devoted to but also hate. You, man, you, temptress. You there, in the mirror looking back at me.

All of you, and myself included, we’ll be a fine line. And we’ll be alright.

This song is about all of that. The self in art, the self on its own, the other, the journey, the chances, the fears, the passion. Hope. Reassurance. Confidence. And, most importantly, that everything will be alright in the end.

read all my lyric analyses here

210 notes · View notes

aerialflight · 3 years

Text

Fic Rec (it's been too long and I read a whole lot of fics)

I've read so many fics these past couple of months and my need to share them to the world has seized me by the throat. Please enjoy and support these fanfic writers! They are the best. XD

[Naruto]

Nine-Tailed Foxes are Dead by RowlettLesbian

Ship: Shikamaru/Naruto

For Konoha, it's been one month since the preliminary Chunin exams. For Naruto, it's been six. And he wasn't in Konoha.

At the end of his ordeal, Naruto walks into the Chunin Exam finals without his left arm.

Shikamaru is very concerned. And, eventually, very precious to Naruto as they work together to solve the mysteries of Konoha and bring kindness to the Shinobi world, one adventure at a time.

(I would die for this fic. I know the summary sounds doom and gloom but IT'S NOT. This fic made me fucking cry, I don't think I've ever read a fic that characterized Naruto so right. He's so full of hope and love and develops into the best version of himself and I'm so HERE FOR IT. And it's not just Naruto, Shikamaru is absolutely amazing here along with Kakashi and surprise surprise Ino, I can't BELIEVE it took me this long to stumble across this fic. Also THE WORLDBUILDING IS TO DIE FOR!!! And the plot! Is! So! Interesting! Just, everything about this fic is just amazing so please PLEASE read this!!!)

The End of the Uchiha by RowlettLesbian

Ship: Naruto/Sasuke

“I promise, little electric spirit of this shrine,” he whispered into the soft dirt and fallen leaves, “I will never gain the eyes. I will never pass them on. And I will make sure the eyes end in my brother, so that they can’t hurt anybody anymore. I will be the last Uchiha, and see to the end of the Copy-Wheel Clan. Then all of the hatred here can stop, and my family can rest peacefully. I promise, little shrine.”

Sasuke is more than his brother thinks he is. He's more than any Uchiha has ever been. He will kill his brother, but it will not be vengeance.

It will be mercy.

(Same author as the one above, they are the gift that keeps on giving. Seriously, HOW did I NEVER FIND THESE FICS before now??? One of life's greatest mysteries. The author's sense of humor is so on point here along with the atmospheric writing that's so vivid in the mind. Their writing style is so recognizable to me now and makes me fall into the world they're creating, it's stunning. Sasuke here makes me want to hug him and the idea of him living like a feral ghibli character has me LIVING. Check the tags of the fic, all of it is true, hand to god. Please give all of the author's fics a shot, it's a rabbit hole I'm thankful I fell into!)

mil fantasmas (gritan en calma) by LegaciesandMemories

Post-Tsukuyomi, something in Uchiha Sasuke's mind shatters. The same night, Yamanaka Ino falls asleep and doesn't wake up for 15 days.

---

In which Ino and Sasuke both wake from the aftermath of the Uchiha Massacre with the ability to see ghosts, and no one is prepared for the fallout.

(This fic has arrested my curiosity and eagerness to know what will happen next. These poor kids need so many hugs and Ino is getting the spotlight she deserves. I am so excited for this fic and what it has in store! Please read! XD)

Lichtenberg Figures by Asteroid_Duck (JustThatOneGirl1815)

Name: Kakashi Hatake Rank: Jounin Status: Missing Nin Missing Since: June 15th, 271 AD Note: Flee on Sight . . . Haburashi looked his team in the eyes— three, fresh out of the Academy genin— and resolved to teach them as best as he could. And right now, his lesson was simple: “Stay. Away. From. Kakashi. Hatake.”

(Dimension travel fic with a slice of Kakashi being an absolute troll and dealing with the shitty hand he's been dealt with. Seriously, the man has the worst luck in all of Konoha. Also, the mystery of the other Kakashi's history has me leaning by the edge of my seat, I need to know.)

The Governess by Ysmirel

Ship: Kakashi/OFC

"“What,” he finally asked, “is so funny?”

Ibara bit her lower lip to keep the chuckles in, still smiling and making absolutely no effort to get more space between them, seemingly perfectly at ease within reach of a trained shinobi. Her self-control wasn't all that good, as she ended up snorting and was overcame once again by another fit of laughter. “I just- It's just-” She struggled to speak, trying to catch her breath and wiping away tears of mirth with the hand that wasn't still holding onto his vest. Finally, she looked him in the eye and said, with a smile that was all teeth and without a hint of her previous drunken stupor, “and who's going to believe you?”

As he stood there, stunned by her words and change in demeanor, he realized with dawning horror that she was right."

In which Kakashi finds himself at the other end of the troll shtick, and he doesn't appreciate it all that much.

(It's so hard to find self-insert fics with a fresh concept these days, especially in the naruto fandom. Not that I don't enjoy and devour a lot of self insert fics like it's going out of style, but it's just so nice to find something new and shiny and really damn good. I'm so pumped for this fic and how it's going to develop so please join me in rooting for this fic!)

half a league (until the valley of death) by SpectersShadow117

Kakashi can think of no reason for Sasuke's inexplicable and drastic change in behavior. He doesn't like the desperate, haunted gleam in his student's eyes, and he also doesn't like the nagging feeling that he's missing something very important. Aka: Future Sasuke goes to Past Sasuke and gives him a reality check with Specific Intentions, but as with most Uchiha, his methods leave much to be desired. (Featuring: Childhood trauma FTW, Konoha's shitty care of orphans, and absolutely no one having a fun time.)

(Sasuke wanting to change the future out of complete and utter spite has me LIVING. Sasuke is such a Mess here and the twist on the time travel premise is so good and the kid is so Traumatized and Desperate and Not Having A Good Time. Naruto and Sakura developing as better ninjas and Kakashi trying his best makes me want to scream. Also, how Sasuke thinks about Itachi makes me want to cackle. I am 100% down for this. I am rooting for this kid, go get them! XD)

[Harry Potter]

fruit loops in time (circle around me) by justprompts

Ships: Harry/Draco, Remus/Sirius

"This is Crabbe, and Goyle," the blonde boy says, pointing at the two boys next to him. "And I'm Malfoy, Draco Ma - "

Ron laughs, and Malfoy immediately bristles.

"Think my name's funny, do you?" Malfoy says, angrily. "No need to ask yours - "

"You're honestly so cute," Ron interrupts, yet again, shaking his head. "So tiny. And so angry, all the time. It's adorable."

Alternatively Ron Weasley, Time Traveller Extraordinaire, is stuck in the same seven year Hogwarts Loop, repeating the same thing over and over again. Naturally, he's so done with everything.

(This is the greatest hp fic I've ever read. I LOVE RON WEASLEY and by the time you read this fic SO WILL YOU!! This is the fic I WISH I have the ability to write. I read this entire fic aloud to my brother and we spent literal hours howling and talking about how utterly insane and incredible this fic is, it's amazing. This is hands down my favorite Ron Weasley. You Can Pry This Fic From My Cold Dead Fingers.)

[Boku no Hero Academia]

Kacchan's Cult by Ourliazo

Pro Hero Ground Zero is attacked, originally meant to be de-aged out of existence by a desperate villain but is instead launched into his 14-year-old self.

But Katsuki is a fucking pro so whatever, time to fuck up someone's day. And sure, maybe he's only one man, but that's why he conscripts the entirety of the UA student body into tearing down some criminal empires.

(It's time travel, crack, and Bakugou being his usual explody, competent self. What more in life do you want? Seriously though, please read. I'm obsessed with this fic and having a Good Time!)

Cleaning Crew; Teaching Kids to Value their Safety, for Fun and Profit by Reavv

Takenaka Hideo is a thirty-two year old, in mild desperation for money, who has just been hired as a new janitor for UA's support staff. He has a quirk that lets him find lost objects, a liaison with the police because of it, and desperate desire for competent co-workers.

Oh, and he's already lived a previous life, in a world where quirks and heroes didn't even exist.

Not a big deal, though. It's not like you ever see the janitor playing a big part in action movies. He's here to get paid, and that's it.

On the opposite side of the equation, class 1-A has to wonder at the new UA cryptid that always seems to show up when things are on fire, and who keeps trying to convince them to let the adults handle the fire extinguisher.

(A great deal of fun packed into one fic. That is how I title this fic and nothing will change my mind! Hideo just wants to quietly do his job and not get in the way. I Relate. Please read!)

Poltergeist by WriterGreenReads

Class 1-A is haunted.

Well, not really.

I AM dead, though.

World's friendliest poltergeist, at your service.

(I don't know how I got so sucked into OC fics, but I found some fantastic fics along the way so I have no regrets. The author really tries to push the premise and I just love all the interactions and dynamics that form as the fic gets further in. And the OC character and all the hijinks they get up to cracks me up! At the same time, it's pretty heartwarming and it's practically a friendships galore fic! Definitely recommend it!)

invincible by supercrunch for Engrin

Ship: Bakugou/Midoriya

This is the way the world works: the sun rises in the east. The strong come out on top. Bakugou Katsuki rockets through life like a comet and Midoriya Izuku stumbles after. If he believed in such things Katsuki would say it was written in the stars. That some god of war had looked at him and said this one. That he’d been passed along a line to get his blessings – genius, willpower, fearless ambition – and dropped off on earth.

Then, of course, there is the question of Deku. The spitfire runt. Deku, no matter what the world does to him, never stops hoping.

Until, of course, he eventually does.

(Katsuki broke him. Snapped him in half like a twig and now has to scramble to put Deku back together. “We can do this, Deku," he says slowly. "There are so many mysteries that never got put to bed. Criminals roaming around looking to hurt people and you and me, we can fix that.”

There’s a long pause. The comforter slips a little off Deku’s skinny shoulders and drowns him. “You mean like a team?”

In that split second, Katsuki makes a decision he’s never even considered. He swallows his pride. “Yeah, Deku. We’d be a team.”)

(If there was any other way canon could've gone, this is the story I would've wanted. It's perfect.)

Inadvertent Wilderness Therapy by Cacid

Following an unfortunate encounter with a teleporter on the last day of internships, Bakugou Katsuki and Hakamata Tsunagu spend some quality time in northern Canada.

In no particular order they will: build ugly survival shelters, stalk rabbits, run from polar bears, reflect on the chemical composition of trees, insult each other, and complain about krumholtz.

(THESE TWO. TOGETHER. IN THE WILDERNESS. IN FUCKING CANADA OF ALL PLACES. I still can't believe this fic actually exists and just how INVESTED I became in their relationship. Blue Jeanist instantly became my favorite ranked hero with this fic alone. HIS SENSE OF HUMOR IS TERRIBLE, I LOVE HIM SO MUCH FNIEWOPAF. BAKUGOU DOES TOO. IT'S FUCKING INCREDIBLE. *incoherent screeching into the wild*)

[Stranger Things]

Baci D'aria by RabbitDarling

“Love is worth the sum of itself, and nothing more.” ― Alice Hoffman, Practical Magic

Steve learned a lot at his Aunt's side before she passed but his favourite thing she taught him was baci d'aria; special little spells that you created from the heart and put into the food you shared.

In opening his heart and gifts to those around him Steve slowly finds himself a family in a way he never thought he'd get to experience. One by One he collects pre-teens to trail in his wake like ducklings and Steve can't even refute it by the time he realizes what has happened.

(This fic is so soft and Steve is just collecting people and winning them over with his magical food (literally). I am always a sucker for heartwarming, good for the soul fics so if you want to make yourself hungry and feel all warm and gooey inside, read this!)

(Don't Fear) The Reaper by TeaFourTwo

Ship: Steve/Billy

He looks down at the blood on his hands and on the floor and wonders why the memory hasn’t broken yet, why he isn’t back in Starcourt mall with control of his body again, wonders if he's even still alive at all. Is this hell then? Or perhaps purgatory? It certainly isn’t heaven, that’s for sure. None of this makes any sense…but then what's new—nothing in Billy’s life makes sense anymore.

Billy laughs then, loud and long and unhinged. It's the only sound in the whole house, and it bounces off the walls like a fucked up echo, like the world is laughing with him.

“Jesus christ you’re insane…” It’s Max’s voice and it’s shaking. It only makes Billy laugh harder, because Max has it all wrong. Billy isn’t crazy, it’s the rest of the world that’s insane.

Billy dies a hero of sorts. He wakes up back in his bed on Saturday morning, the third of November, 1984...nearly nine months earlier.

(Billy is stuck in a time loop and it's slowly driving him crazy. And the fic shows just how much influence Billy did have in the plot and how doomed the world is without him in it. Great character exploration with Billy's character and all the ways he's so messy and human. Definitely recommend it!)

[Knives Out]

The Road Less Traveled By by UisceOneLove

Ship: Marta/Ransom

If Harlan wants to leave Ransom to be on his own, fine. He'll show him just what Ransom Drysdale is capable of.

or, where Ransom chooses to prove his abilities through means of the non-homicidal variety and finds himself becoming exactly what Harlan was hoping he would.

(I found this fic out of sheer chance and god, Ransom is just, so fascinating to me as a character. Marta of course is the Best here and I will forever stan her. Seriously, this is such a good fic! Please read!)

[Haikyuu!!]

Sky Full of Stars by grilledsquids

The Hinatas are twins. They're practically identical.

But while Shouyou seeks out Karasuno's volleyball team to become the next Little Giant, Natsu is scouted to to play soccer for Shiratorizawa. While Shouyou sets his eyes on playing volleyball at the highest level possible, his sister wonders how much longer she can play soccer... and if it's worth it to keep going.

A Natsu-centric story featuring: Shiratorizawa VBC shenanigans, too many soccer OCs, mild teenage drama, a little bit of plot, and Semi Eita not knowing what a period is.

(It's just!! So cute and wholesome!!! The Shiratorizawa volleyball team is so fleshed out along with the OC characters for the girl's soccer team and I swear, it's been a long while since I've laughed this much at the sheer shenanigans that happen in a fic. It's surprisingly hard to find good gen fics in this fandom so finding this gem made me so happy! If you want a fic that brings a smile to your face, read this!!)

like water by speakingincode

Ship: Oikawa/Kageyama

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi says, and when Tooru looks at him, he can read My best friend’s an idiot off the crease of his eyebrows. “Are you telling me you spent the last three years weirdly obsessed with Kageyama – I still remember the time you made us play him on a dumb whim, you know – and now you’re at his beck and call? Are you okay? What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I’m— I’m not at his beck and call! I said no last week. It’s… It’s like you said. I get bored easily. I saw him at the park a couple weeks after they played Nationals and called him a perfect little tyrant, and he pestered me into spending time with him after,” Tooru says. “I’m not a monster, Iwa-chan. If he wants the company of his cool, handsome ex-upperclassman that badly, who am I to begrudge him?”

Or: Oikawa doesn't know why Kageyama keeps asking to meet him on Saturdays. He also doesn't know why he keeps saying yes.

(The fact this fic is canon-compliant and covers post-canon too makes me want to shout to the heavens. Fucking incredible! One of the best Oikakage fics ever and it's a crime how it's not at the top of the ship tag. Please please read!!)

twist into your shape by kakkoweeb

Ship: Oikawa/Kageyama

The only thing better than sweets were sweets containing paper that told you whether your future would be good or bad--or in Kageyama and Oikawa's case, paper that somehow caused you to live inside each other's bodies.

(Everyone probably already read this fic but it needs to be said, you need to read this fic. How these two try and manage each other's lives and slowly start to care about one another is so beautiful and sincere and I am ready to wrestle anyone to the floor and comply them into reading this fic. Doesn't matter if you like the ship, you will become a fan if you read it, I promise. Please please read!!)

Take the Long Road Home by pepperfield

Ship: Kuroo/Sawamura

When Azumane Asahi goes missing before his engagement meeting with Kozume Kenma, what other option is there but for Daichi to impersonate his brother and fake his way through a first date with Asahi's fiance?

Okay, let's be realistic - there were probably at least four other options.

Unfortunately, Tetsurou couldn't come up with any of them either, so now he's here flirting with Kenma's future husband while trying to keep his web of deceit from collapsing.

It's going to be an eventful day.

(I got obsessed with this ship alongside Oikakage and SO WILL YOU. THE POTENTIAL. THE BANTER. THE FACT THEY'RE BOTH DORKS AND THE FIC HAS IDENTITY SHENANIGANS DANCING ALL OVER IT!! I had so much fun reading this and these two are MEANT TO BE FENIWPAF. If you don't see the potential of this ship, you will now.)

a misunderstanding a day keeps the boyfriend away by bartallen for betuls

Ship: Kuroo/Sawamura

Kuroo doesn’t fall in love hard and fast like many others do – he falls slowly, and very very softly. Most of the times he doesn’t even realise he’s in love with someone until it’s too late.

(Kuroo is the dumbest man alive and I've never related to someone so hard in my life. God help me.)

You like me. by roseknight

Ship: Daishou/Kuroo

Kuroo nearly lived a Daishou-free life, and sometimes he looked back and wondered how much better and how much worse that would've been.

(I didn't even know who Daishou was until I read this fic and now I can't unsee the potential this ship has. I'm a ruined woman and I regret NOTHING.)

Kings of the Road, Kings of the Universe by EzzyDean

Eight magical captains, one bus, an entire summer (and country) waiting for them.

What could possibly go wrong?

(The magic of friendship meets the magic of a summer road trip meets pure magic.)

(CAPTAIN SQUAD IS THE BEST SQUAD SOMEBODY PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SEND ME SOME CAPTAIN SQUAD FICS I AM SO IN LOVE WITH THIS SQUAD IT'S A PROBLEM AAAAHHHHHH!)

宿縁 : See You Soon by MissKiraBlue

Ship: Oikawa/Kageyama

Upon arriving at the train station of death, an impure soul is granted a second chance at life against his will. Reincarnating into the body of Kageyama Tobio, a 15-year-old boy who recently committed suicide. Tobio's soul will depart at death and the soul needs to slip in to replace it. If the soul's reformation succeeds, he’ll reenter the cycle of rebirth and regain the right to be reborn. He will have three months to accomplish this task.

“Even though you had enough of life,” the soul whispered into the void of the room, “you were still afraid to hurt your hands, Tobio.”

Afraid of giving himself a scar, if he survived.

He touched his pulse and grasped life and couldn’t help but pity Kageyama Tobio.

"You wanted to die and now I’m here making you live again," he whispered into the night.

(I'm not even exaggerating when I say out of all the fics in this entire goddamn, too long list, this is the fic I'm anticipating and heart eyeing the most. It's only starting, but I already cried on chapter fucking 2, the power of this fic, holy shit. The author also wrote the hq time loop Every Tomorrows series, which I have an undying love for and am full on praying for the day it updates, so you KNOW this fic will be just as good. (Anybody who hasn't read this series, where the hell have you been?? Read it!!) Just, everything about this fic hurts me and something in my chest just aches when I read this fic. Go into it blind with an open heart and I swear to you, it's going to change your life. I'm already calling it. Seriously though, please please read!)

[Crossover]

Learning to Fly by Asteroid_Duck (JustThatOneGirl1815)

Fandoms: Boku no Hero Academia, Naruto

The number three hero is a walking (well, flying) contradiction in every sense of the word. This includes his teaching skills. Why had Tokoyami agreed to this internship again? Oh right. He’d thought he was actually going to learn something. …….remind him to never be so optimistic again. . . . OR, Kakashi Hatake is reincarnated as the pro hero, Hawks. Tokoyami Fumikage suffers as a result.

(The reincarnation fic I never thought I needed and it's so good!! I've never really paid attention to Tokoyami and this fic sent me headfirst into loving him. Their dynamic is so interesting and I just love how their relationship develops. Also, Kakashi trolling the poor kid made me cackle, it's great! Definitely recommend it!)

Si Vis Pacem by athenoot

Fandoms: Boku no Hero Academia, John Wick

Everything has a price. That's what John has always known and will forever remember, even in death.

Which is pretty ironic considering his current circumstance.

Instead of a grown, scarred, weary body belonging to a man as cruel and broken as him, he's inhabiting a younger, smaller, unblemished one belonging to a child with strangely colored hair, and is living in what seems to be a superhuman society.

Well. May it never be said that John isn't a strategist. He can live with this. Maybe.

(Somewhere out there in the universe, he's certain he could hear the laughter of his enemies from beyond the grave.)

Or: John Wick is reincarnated as Midoriya Izuku. The world should probably watch its back.

(This should be one of the crackiest fics I've read in a while, but it's taken so seriously and I'm so HERE FOR THIS. John Wick being John Wick in a world of quirks and heroes is the GREATEST, honestly, he's so badass. Bakugou, I feel for you, you must be so fucking confused lol. Bakugou trying his best to be a good friend is one of the best things about this fic. Trust me, this fic will make your day, promise!)

A Girl's Mind is a Dangerous Place by clenastia

Fandoms: Naruto, Fairy Tail

Natsu wakes up in Sakura's body. It only gets worse from there. Also known as: In Which Natsu has No Idea what to do with Boobs.

(I binged this in two fucking days, I couldn't put it down. This fic reminded me why I liked fairy tail when I was younger and why Natsu is honestly such a great protagonist, god. And the fic does that thing, you know, the Thing where when two worlds collide, the characters struggle to acclimate and adapt to a completely another world with different rules and mindsets against their own. This fic is seriously one of the best when it comes to that aspect, it's incredible. I am going absolutely feral over here for this fic to update, I'm waiting in the wings, ready to pounce like a tiger, all the metaphors man. For the love of god, read this fic.)

Give me a landscape made of obstacles by Melise

Fandoms: Naruto, Natsume's Book of Friends

Kakashi Hatake isn’t who he says he is.

Because the truth is that he’s actually a youkai in disguise, a wolf spirit named Madara who stumbled across the Hatake clan during the Warring States Period. Intrigued by the shinobi he saw, he’d proposed a temporary alliance in which he would offer the clan protection in exchange for their teachings.

Decades later, Madara is surprised to find himself inadvertently summoned to Konoha by the last living member of the Hatake clan. Sakumo Hatake, who is mourning the recent deaths of his wife and stillborn child, doesn’t want to be alone anymore. So with his permission, Madara takes the place of Sakumo’s deceased son in order to watch over the last Hatake.

(Fusion in which the youkai of Natsume’s Book of Friends all exist in the Naruto world. No knowledge of Natsume’s Book of Friends required).

(Before this fic, I only had a very vague idea of what Natsume's Book of Friends was, and honestly, I still don't know much about it. But I didn't really need to know to get into this fic. I love the worldbuilding and the relationships Kakashi forms, both supernatural and mortal. I love how Kakashi's inhumane ways affect others around him, whether to stress them out or become used to the strange. You can go straight into this fic without knowing anything and absolutely still have a fantastic time. I definitely recommend this so please read!)

#Fanfiction #AO3 #Fic Rec #Fic Rec List #Naruto #Harry Potter #Boku no Hero Academia #Stranger Things #Knives Out #Haikyuu!!#Crossover #John Wick #Fairy Tail #Natsume's Book of Friends

108 notes · View notes

grlwtskulltattoo · 3 years

Text

Fall For You - Chapter 4

Characters - Jax Teller x OFC (Katrina)

Summary - Katrina leaves an abuse relationship and heads home after finding out about her father’s passing. Old feelings come back to the surface for a person from her past. Story will follow the events of the show as much as possible. How might have Jax’s story changed with a different woman in his life.

Word Count - 8152

Warnings - NSFW, Hardcore Smut, Violence, Angst, Adult Language, Dark Themes, Fluff, Miscarriage, Pregnancy, Accident, Mentions of Physical and Emotional Abuse, Self-Harm. Drinking.

Will add to the warnings as the story progresses. Warnings cover the whole series. Some parts will be more mild than others.

A/N - Feedback is welcomed and encouraged, and may help motivate me to continue. All mistakes are my own. If you would like to be tagged in future parts, please send me an ask to be added to the list.

I know this chapter has been a long time coming. Just took me awhile to get the pieces to fit into the right place. I can only hope that I did it justice. This chapter ended up being twice as long as I expected. I hope that helps make up for the long ass wait…. Oh and there is an added bonus at the end of the chapter…..Smut….If you’re into that kind of thing. I apologize in advance if it sucks…. Been a long time since I’ve written steamy sex scenes. Thanks for following along on this crazy ride.

Katrina spent the week following her father’s funeral preparing the house to put up for sale. She had no desire to continue living in the house that harbored so many bad memories. Her only regret is that bad memories out weigh the good ones involving her mom. She went through all of her father’s belongings. She saved the important stuff, family mementos that mainly involved her mom, some things from her father’s past that she’s curious about, and some items from her childhood. She was surprised to find a shoebox in her closet filled with notes that her, Jax and Opie passed to each other in school. She knew that she should throw them away, but couldn’t bring herself to do it. The stuff she didn’t want to keep was piled up in the driveway under the carport beside the garage for the local thrift store to pick up.

She is leaving the furniture in the house at the recommendation of the Realtor. He told Katrina that having furniture in the house gives potential buyers a better idea of the size of the rooms. Katrina doesn’t really care either way, the furniture will be donated as soon as the house sells. The old Dodge Challenger in the garage Katrina plans to keep. Even if she has to rent a storage unit to store it in until she finds a new place to call home. She is only keeping the bare necessities in the house for her to use until she leaves.

She has to admit that she’s a little relieved that she hasn’t had any unexpected guests. Everything has been pretty quiet since the funeral, other than the explosion that occurred the night before last, on the outskirts of town. She can’t help but wonder if Samcro was somehow involved with it. Maybe that was why Jax hasn’t tried to stop by.

Katrina spent some time pouring over the old photos in her father’s stuff. On the back of the photo of him dressed in Native American regalia was written “Pine Ridge Res”. She wondered if maybe his family lived on the reservation. Maybe she had an aunt or uncle still living there. She was seriously considering taking a drive up there to investigate. Hopefully learn more about his past, so maybe she can understand why he became such a bitter asshole of a father. South Dakota might also be a good place to get a fresh start, away from Charming and far away from Vince.

Katrina puts the photos in an envelope and places it with her duffle in her bedroom. She fixes herself something to eat once she realizes that it’s already evening time. While she is eating, she thinks about the meal Gemma prepared for the dinner after her father’s funeral. She still feels a little guilty for leaving the way that she did. Gemma has a good heart, and has always treated Katrina like family, even if she has a tendency to meddle. Katrina knows in her heart it wouldn't feel right to just leave town without expressing her gratitude to Gemma for all of her help. Once Katrina finishes eating, she cleans up then grabs her jacket. She’s getting a little stir crazy at the house and decides to head over to TM to see if Gemma is still there working in the office. It’s getting a little late, but she remembers Gemma used to work all hours of the day and evening depending on how busy they were.

As Katrina rode her Harley to the shop she knew she was taking a chance on running into Jax. Hopefully he’ll be out doing club stuff, and won’t notice her there. When she pulled into the parking lot at Teller Morrow it was mostly empty save a couple cars and bikes. She parks her bike near the office, relieved to see Gemma’s car parked near the door. When Katrina turns off her bike, she’s surprised that there’s no loud rowdy music coming from the clubhouse. It’s actually pretty quiet. There is light filtering from the office window, so she’s fairly confident that Gemma’s inside. Katrina quietly walks inside the open door, catching Gemma off guard.

“Hey baby, what brings you by?” Gemma asks with concern in her voice. Katrina notices that Gemma looks tired, like the weight of the world is resting on her shoulders.

“I wanted to apologize for leaving the dinner the way I did last week. I feel really bad about it, especially after everything you did to help. I think all the emotions were getting to me, and it was hard listening to all the stories about my father.” Katrina sincerely expresses to Gemma.

Gemma gestures to the chair next to desk, and Katrina takes a seat. “That’s ok baby, I know how hard it is to lose someone. It can take a minute to process everything going on. How are you doing now?” Gemma asks while lightly rubbing Katrina’s arm that is resting on the corner of her desk.

“Better. I cleaned out the rest of the house, got it listed with a real estate agent.” Katrina replies.

Gemma looks a little surprised. “So I guess that means you’re not planning on sticking around.”

Katrina can hear the disappointment in Gemma’s voice. “I don’t belong in Charming anymore. Never really did. I’ll probably stick around for a little bit to make sure everything goes ok with the showings of the house. Then I’m probably gonna take off.”

Gemma shakes her head at Katrina’s first comment. “You’ve always belonged here, Kat. I know Jax and Opie have missed you. I’ve missed you. You were like the daughter I never had. Don’t ever feel like you don’t belong here. You’re family.” Gemma looks Katrina straight in the eyes as she grips her arm.

Katrina sighs as she looks away. If only Gemma knew the truth about her father, maybe she’d understand why this town carried so many bad memories for her. Not to mention the whole Jax and Tara thing. “How are things going here? The clubhouse is pretty quiet.” Katrina asks trying to change the subject.

Gemma loosens her grip on Katrina’s arm. “Been a busy last few days. The club’s dealing with a Mayan problem. Jax’s junkie whore of an ex-wife, Wendy, just gave birth to his son. We don’t know yet if the baby is going to make it. He was born 10 weeks premature with a tear in his abdomen and the family flaw. I just got back to the office after spending a few hours trying to straighten up Jax’s house from the mess his ex left.” Gemma grabs a cigarette from her pack on the desk and lights it.

Katrina is in shock. She didn’t know Jax had an ex-wife and a newborn baby. “Wow. I had no idea.” She’s a little surprised that he was involved with a different women. She had alway imagined that he’d be married to Tara.

“Yeah, it’s been a little crazy around here.” Gemma sighs. “Jax won’t see his son in the hospital. Something about not wanting to get attached incase he doesn’t make it. Which is bullshit, he just doesn’t want to get his heart broken.” Gemma looks at Katrina with a pleading look in her eyes. “Do you think you could talk to him?” Gemma asks hopeful.

Katrina feels uncomfortable with the request. “I don’t know about that.” She tries to decline gently, shaking her head.

“Please, Kat. He won’t listen to me. You and him were so close. Maybe he’ll listen to you.” Gemma pleads.

Ugg. It was the last thing Katrina wanted to do. Get in the middle of family drama. She really doesn't feel it’s her place to get involved, especially since she’s been gone for so long. She’s not as close to Jax as she used to be. She has been trying to avoid that. But seeing Gemma upset breaks her heart. “Ok. I’ll try to talk to him. I can’t make any guarantees that he’ll listen though.” Katrina reluctantly agrees.

“Thank you, Kat. He’s in the clubhouse.” Gemma looks relieved.

Oh shit, right now? Katrina wasn’t expecting to have to do it so soon. She was hoping to have the night to think about how to approach Jax. Katrina reluctantly gets out of her seat followed by Gemma. Gemma takes Katrina in her arms and gives her a little squeeze. “Thank you baby.” Gemma whispers in her ear.

Katrina gives Gemma a light pat on the back before walking out of the office. As she walks to towards the clubhouse she takes deep breaths of the cool evening air trying to steel her nerves. Mentally preparing herself for all the questions she’s sure to get bombarded with. When she enters the clubhouse, all the memories of her, Jax and Opie running around came flooding back to her. It was where she had her first shot of whiskey on a dare, learned to play poker, rocked out to loud music, and almost had her first kiss. It felt like home.

It was pretty quiet inside the clubhouse, with the exception of music playing at a low volume. She was surprised that there was no one there besides Jax. She spotted him at one of the tables, lost in thought and milking a bottle of whiskey. “So I hear congratulations are in order.” Katrina startles Jax from his drink.

Jax looks up in surprise at the intrusion. “You must have been talking to mom.” He sourly replies.

“Jackson Teller, a father.” Katrina teases him as she nears the table.

“Yeah, for how long.” Jax grumbles.

“Your mom said that you haven’t seen your son yet. Why not?” She asks as she takes a seat at the table across from Jax. She notices the sadness in his eyes at the question.

“Don’t really want my heart broken.” Jax replies, staring at the amber liquid in his glass.

“Yeah, she mentioned the heart defect and stomach issues. Something about a junkie whore. Regardless of that, if it was my son, I would be spending every second I could with him.” Katrina tries to encourage him. “Besides that, he’s got a tough as nails father, so he’s gonna be a little fighter. He’ll pull through.”

Jax smiles a little at that last comment. “So what brings you by? Besides doing mom’s dirty work.”

Katrina knows Jax is trying to change the subject. At least she can tell Gemma she tried. “I came by to apologize to your mom about leaving the dinner early after the funeral.”

Jax nods his head softly. “Yeah, everyone was disappointed you left.” Especially me.

“I thought I could handle hearing the stories about my father, but it got to be a little too much to handle at that moment. Brought up a lot of memories.” Bad memories.

“So where have you been for the last 11 years.” Jax asks pointedly.

And so it begins. Katrina can’t help but wonder if it’s too late to walk out the door. She knew Jax was going to have questions, and she had really hoped to avoid them. She gets up from the table to grab herself a shot glass and a coke from the bar, before returning to her seat. This conversation is going to require an excessive amount of alcohol. She grabs the bottle of whiskey sitting in front of Jax and pours herself a shot. Katrina quickly downs the shot, welcoming the burn of the amber liquid as it travels down her throat. She then takes a sip of the coke to calm the burn. Jax patiently waits for her response, taking a drag from the cigarette in his hand.

“When I left Charming, I bought a bus ticket to Vegas. I got a job working at a casino restaurant as a server, and then I found myself an apartment. I became really good friends with a tattoo artist at a parlor in the casino. He let me apprentice under him and has been teaching my how to tattoo and the ins and outs of the business. One day, I hope to have my own shop.” Katrina decides to leave out the part about Vince.

Jax is surprised. The club has a charter in Vegas that he’s visited numerous times over the years. If only he had known Kat was there too. He might have been able to convince her to come home sooner. At the very least, been able to visit her. He’s missed his best friend. When Katrina left, it hurt more than when Tara left for school. It wasn’t until she left that he realized how wrong he was for not pursuing a relationship with her, despite his fears.

“I have to say, I’m a bit surprised that you and Tara aren’t married with a few little ones running around. And what’s this about a ‘junkie whore’?” Katrina asks. Turn about is fair play.

Jax lets out a soft sigh. “Tara left shortly after you did. She went to the university to become a doctor. Then she went out to Chicago to intern at a hospital. She begged me to go with her. To get out of this ‘cess pool of a town’, but Charming is my home. She was pissed that I prospected into the club with Opie, even though it’s what I always wanted. To follow in my father’s footsteps, and be a part of the club that he helped build. We fought about our futures, more than we got along. We started to grow distant from each other. I wasn’t to heartbroken when she left, like I thought I would be. I was more upset about you leaving than her, even though mom blames her for breaking my heart.” Jax confesses. “Tara just recently returned home and is working at St. Thomas hospital.”

Katrina shakes her head, not surprised about Tara trying to change Jax. She had tried to warn him when they were teenagers, but she had alway felt her comments fell on deaf ears. Some people have to learn the hard way. Katrina pours herself another shot and quickly downs it.

“The junkie whore is my ex-wife, Wendy. She was a club hang-around. Her and I started spending a lot of time together. For me, it was about fighting the loneliness I felt after you left. I never really loved her. We got married a few years ago. She started using drugs, so we grew apart. Separated for awhile. Then she got clean, and did a stint in rehab. We tried to make things work again and got back together. That’s when she got pregnant with my son. Things just didn’t line up for us. I wasn’t happy, so we started growing distant again. I filed for divorce a few months ago. Told her I’d help pay the doctor bills for the pregnancy. Haven’t heard from her in a while. Apparently she started using again even though she was pregnant. Mom went over to our house yesterday and found her passed out on the kitchen floor, bleeding between her legs, with a needle stuck in between her fingers. Mom rushed her to the hospital where they preformed an emergency c-section. My son was born 10 weeks premature with a tear in his abdomen and the family flaw. He only has a 20% chance of survival. I should have kept a closer eye on them, maybe this wouldn't have happened” Jax replies with regret heavy in his voice.

“You can’t blame yourself. If she wanted the drugs bad enough, there’s nothing you could have done to stop her. She would have found a way.” Katrina tries to alleviate some of his guilt.

“That may be so, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. I did beat the shit out of the dealer that has been supplying her with the poison. Wendy apologized for what she did and promised that she’s going to get clean, but it’s going to take some time to rebuild that trust. I think she’s more worried about being charged with fetal abuse, then she is about our son. If Gemma has her way, Wendy won’t be a part of our son’s life. I can’t say I disagree with mom on that.” Jax has a defeated look on his face as he pours himself another shot.

Katrina matches Jax’s shot with one of her own. She’s starting to feel a buzz from the alcohol, but she’s not sure if it’s enough to get through the questions that she knows are coming. She isn’t slurring her speech yet, but it is getting a little easier to talk. It almost feels like old times, chatting with her best friend… almost.

“So… Why did you leave town, without so much as a goodbye?” Jax asks while looking directly into Katrina’s eyes. He sees a momentary flash of pain cross Kat’s face.

There it is. The million dollar question. The one she was hoping to avoid. All the pain and bad memories came flashing back to the forefront of her mind. She knew deep down Jax has a right to know, but it didn’t make it any easier. She can’t help but fear that once he knows the truth about her father, he’ll look at her differently. With pity, or guilt for not realizing what was going on and stopping it. She doesn’t want him to feel sorry for her, she fought her own way out and it made her stronger.

Kat pours herself another shot and takes a sip of it before answering him. “One of the reasons I left was to get away from my abusive asshole of a father. Shortly after my mom died, my father started to become distant to me. It was like the sight of me reminded him of what he lost. Almost like he blamed me for her death, even though she died from cancer. He would loose his temper over the smallest things. That lead to him breaking things around the house. If there were dirty dishes left in the sink, he would throw them across the room shattering them against the wall. If I left my backpack on the floor after school, he’d toss it. He started punching holes in the walls, kicking down doors. After while the only thing that seemed to calm him was liquor. As soon as he arrived home from work he’d grab a beer from the fridge, sometimes a couple of them. When the beer started losing its effectiveness he started drinking more hard liquor and getting into drug use. That’s when I started to become his punching bag. If I got in his way he’d hit or kick me. If he felt I was talking back to him he’d slap me across my face. He told me I was worthless, that I was no better than garbage, and that he couldn’t wait until I was no longer his problem.”

Katrina lightly rubbed the small row of scars near wrist with her thumb, slightly hidden by the skeleton torso tattoo on her forearm. She remembers the pain she felt inside from her father’s words and the relief she felt cutting herself with the small knife she kept in her pocket. She never cut herself deep enough for there to be very much blood, just enough for the physical pain of the blade sliding across her skin to distract her from the pain in her heart.

She glances at Jax’s face and sees the shock and anger in his eyes. Before she continues, she grabs a cigarette from the pack on the table, lights it, then takes a deep drag off it to calm her nerves.”That’s why I used to wear long sleeve shirts and jeans in the middle of summer. To hide all the bruises and scratches on my arms and legs. I stayed out as late as possible with you and Opie, hoping that my father would be passed out before I got home. Some times I’d get lucky and he’d be asleep on the couch, other times I was greeted with him calling me a slut or a whore for staying out so late with the guys. I tried to avoid him as much as possible. When it got closer to graduation I started planning my escape. I saved as much money as I could from my after school job, and used it to buy a bus ticket. I just always seemed to be in the way. So when I got old enough, I got out of the way”

"Why didn't you say something? Tell us that was going on.” Jax is heartbroken and angry to find out that his best friend had been suffering and he did nothing to stop it. He remembered the nights when he, Katrina and Opie hung out. Remembered her reluctance to go home when Gemma said it was time to get ready for bed. Or the nights Katrina begged him to hang out for just one more hour, even though it was already getting pretty late.

"What? So that you could 'save me'. I didn't want your pity or for you to feel sorry for me. I didn't need you to fight my battles.” Katrina defends her silence on the matter, a hint of scorn in her voice.

"So you run away instead? Leave behind every one you've ever known. The people that love and care about you." Jax accuses her, the hurt evident in his eyes.

"Seems to me like you were busy loving someone else." Katrina mumbles under her breath.

Jax gives Katrina a confused look. He wasn’t sure he heard her right, but he had a feeling she was referring to his relationship with Tara. “Now that your father is gone, are you planning on sticking around Charming?” Jax asks, hopeful that there may be an opportunity for them to spend more time together. To reconnect.

Katrina sighs before downing the rest of her shot. “I put the house on the market. The stuff I plan on keeping I’m going to get a storage unit for until I find a new place. I’m not planning on going back to Vegas, but I am thinking of heading north. Maybe towards the Dakotas.” She sees the disappointment on Jax’s face.

“I was kind of hoping that you were going to stick around for a bit.” So maybe I could change your mind about leaving. Jax feels crestfallen, his heart is pounding in fear that she’ll leave and he’ll never get a chance to find out if they would be good together. Ever since Katrina returned to Charming, the what if’s and should’ve beens have been plaguing Jax’s mind. He knows now that it was a mistake hooking up with Tara back in high school. It should have been Kat. She always understood him, never made him feel that he had to choose between her or the club. Things might have been so different for both of them.

“I was going to stick around for maybe another week or two, just to make sure there are no problems with showing the house. Incase something major needs to be fixed.” Katrina reassures Jax, although, by the look of his face he’s not.

“So are you seeing anyone?” Jax isn’t sure he really wants to know the answer, but he can’t help himself. He has to know if she’s involved with another man. If there is even the slightest chance he can convince her to stay.

“I was, but it’s over now.” She really doesn’t want to elaborate on her relationship with Vince, and she hopes that answer is enough to appease Jax.

Jax feels a flicker of hope. “You said your dad was one of the reasons why you left, were there any other reasons?” Despite what Kat was going through with her dad treating her like shit, Jax still couldn’t wrap his head around the idea that she would just leave. Without any warning or even a goodbye. They were best friends. He has never felt as close to another person as he did her, and for her to disappear the way she did, crushed him. He has a feeling there is more to the story.

Katrina groans inwardly at the question, but at this point, with the alcohol coursing through her veins she feels there is no point in holding back. She has already confessed one of her darkest secrets by revealing her past with her father, what’s one more secret. It’s not like it can change the past.

“The other reason I left was because it killed me seeing you and Tara together. I’ve had feelings for you since we were kids. I thought as we grew up and got older those feelings would change, but they never did. I was in love with you and it broke my heart seeing you with her.” Katrina confesses feeling extremely exposed. She just laid her heart and soul on the table.

Jax is blown away by her answer. He feels a sense of relief that she shares his feelings. He knew she cared about him when they were younger, but he always felt that she probably cared about him in a sort of brother sister way. To find out that she was in love with him made his heart soar, and gave him even more hope that there is a chance they could be together. If he can convince her to stay and give them a chance. “Why didn’t you ever tell me how you felt?” Jax asks, even though he can guess her answer.

“I was afraid you didn't feel the same way towards me, and it would just come across as jealously towards Tara. That it would change the way you felt around me, the way you acted around me. I was afraid of losing my best friend.” Katrina admits.

Jax feels like a dumbass now. All this time wasted that they could have been together. If they wouldn’t have been so afraid to tell each other. “I also have something to confess. I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember. Since we were kids.”

Katrina looks at Jax with surprise on her face. She never expected to hear those words come out of his mouth. Maybe he didn’t mean it. Maybe it was the whiskey talking. "So why didn't you ever tell me how you felt?" Katrina asks, genuinely intrigued.

"Because I was terrified that if or when I fucked things up between us, I would not only lose the woman I loved, but I'd also lose my best friend. It wasn’t until after you left that I realized the mistake I made. And I lost you anyways." Jax admits, his voice filled with sadness and regret.

“If you had feelings for me, then why did you hook up with Tara?” Katrina asks in confusion.

“I had some feelings for Tara, but I don’t think I was ever truly in love with her. She was more of a distraction from my feelings for you. Same with Wendy. Every time I was with them, it was your face I saw.” Jax feels a little weird for revealing that part, but it was the truth. Every woman he’s been with he pictured Kat’s face. Wished it was her, he was with.

“When you were dating Tara, I always felt invisible to you. I felt like you saw me as just one of the guys. You started to become distant to me, so I started spending more time with Opie. It seemed like every time you paid even a little bit of attention to me, Tara would snatch it away. It got to the point, where I started avoiding you, to keep myself from getting hurt.” Katrina confesses.

Jax winces at her words. He hates himself for how he hurt her, even though that was never his intention. In his mind, he was trying to protect her and their friendship, by avoiding what his heart yearned for. “I am so sorry, Kat. I never meant to hurt you. I was just trying to bury my feelings for you because I was afraid. I was afraid you didn’t feel the same way towards me and I’d ruin our friendship. I didn’t want to lose you. You have no idea how much I regret those decisions.” Jax sincerely apologizes. He takes Katrina’s hand into his and looks into her eyes. The years of pain and hurt shine in her eyes and he feels heartbroken that he caused some of that pain.

“Yeah, well, that’s all in the past.” Katrina tries to brush it off. She still feels the sting of all those memories, even if it feels like a lifetime ago.

“What if we gave us a shot?” Jax asks, hopefulness in voice. He has vowed to himself that if the opportunity ever came up to be with Kat, that he wouldn’t hesitate.

Katrina looks at Jax in surprise at his question. She feels butterflies in her stomach at the prospect of finally getting what she had always wanted. To finally be with the man that she has been in love with most of her life, but another part of her feels cautious. “I don’t know, Jax. A lot has changed since we were kids. We’re not the same people we were back then. We’ve both changed. Hell, you’re a father now, and VP of SAMCRO.” Katrina is trying to rationalize in her head why this is a bad idea, even though her heart is pounding with excitement. The alcohol running through her veins isn't helping the situation.

“Come on Kat. We both have feelings for each other. I know the first time I laid eyes on you, when you got back into town, I felt butterflies in my stomach. All of those old feelings I had for you came rushing back. I can’t stop thinking about you, and how much I want you in my life.” Jax pleads with her. He has never wanted something as bad as this. To make a life with Kat by his side.

Katrina hesitates to give Jax an answer. This isn’t something to just rush into, especially with her alcohol hazed brain. She needs some time to think this through. She is supposed to be getting out of Charming, not tying herself down. She can’t help but be concerned about Vince. What if he tries to track her down. As much as she hopes that he’ll take the hint, that she’s not coming back, she can’t help but fear that he won’t be so willing to let her go. Even though she has no doubt that Jax will do everything in his power to protect her, she doesn’t feel it should have to be his problem.

“Jax, it’s not that easy. We both have other things going on in our lives. There’s no guarantee that us being together will even work.” Katrina tries to dissuade him. She doesn’t want to get his hopes up for something that may just be a pipe dream.

“At least we could try. If it doesn’t work then so be it, but I can’t live with the what ifs and could have beens without at least giving it a chance.” Jax tries his best to convince her. If he has to get down on his knees and beg he’s not afraid to do it.

“Maybe we should think this though. Preferably when we’re both not drunk.” A part of Kat wants to say yes….god yes… but she also doesn’t want to agree to something she might regret.

Jax is a little disappointed in Kat’s hesitation, but at least she hasn't said no yet. There may be hope.

Katrina gets up from her chair, her legs feel a bit wobbly. “I should probably head home, it’s getting late.”

“Like hell, you are” Jax replies a little too sharply, while grabbing the keys to her bike off the table. He rises from his seat to face her.

Katrina stares daggers at Jax, a little miffed at his tone. If he thinks he can control her and what she does, he’s got another think coming.

Jax quickly realizes how that came across. “Sorry, I didn’t mean for that to come out that way. It’s just, we’ve both been drinking…a lot. You’ve pretty much matched me shot for shot. I wouldn’t feel safe getting on my bike right now, and I don’t think it’d be a good idea for you to either. I’d hate to wake up in the morning, and find out that you wrapped your bike around a tree or something. You should probably crash here tonight.” Jax tries to explain.

Katrina is a little relieved at Jax explanation. It makes sense, although she’s not sure its a great idea to spend the night at the club house.

Jax approaches Kat, the draw of being near her to great to deny. He gently places his hand on her check, the memory of the bruise around her eye flashes across his mind. His thumb lightly caresses her check bone, but when there is no flinch from her, he is relieved that the wound has healed. He still feels that flash of anger that anyone would dare to raise a hand to her. He slowly lowers his lips to hers, aching to feel their softness against his. He has longed to kiss her for as long as he can remember.

Katrina is a little nervous at Jax’s closeness, but her body is quick to respond despite the warnings in her mind. When she feels Jax’s lips against hers an excitement courses through her veins. The feel of his velvety lips against hers was almost as intoxicating as the whiskey they have been drinking. Jax’s hands start slowly sliding down Katrina’s neck then around to her back, where he gently coaxes her into an embrace. Her body melds to his like it was made for it.

As the kiss deepens, warning bells go off in Katrina’s head. Her rational mind warns her that she should stop this from going any further, but years of pent up longing urge her to keep going. Katrina is swept up in the smells of leather, smoke and light cologne, with a hint of vanilla that seemed uniquely Jax. Before she realizes what is happening, she feels Jax’s hands lightly caress the sides of her breasts before traveling down her waist to rest on her hips. He draws her hips in closer to his and she can feel the evidence of his arousal. His breathing gets heavier, and Katrina feels the butterflies in her stomach.

Even though in her mind she knew this was a bad idea, Jax was like a drug, and she was jonesing for a hit. There was a passion between her and Jax that she had never felt with Vince. Maybe it was because it had been building since their youth. The feelings they had been holding back finally able to be explored. Katrina gives as much as she takes, returning Jax’s kiss with a fever of her own. She lightly rubs the tip of her tongue on Jax’s lips until he grants her access to his mouth. She hears his groan as he starts grinding his erection into her stomach. Jax starts guiding her to his dorm room without breaking the kiss. By the time they enter the room, they are both breathing heavily. Jax kicks the door shut with his foot, not wanting to break contact with Kat.

Katrina reaches for Jax’s belt intent on releasing it as she starts to kneel down in front of him. Jax grabs her arms and lifts her back up. “As much as I’d love to see your beautiful face going down on me, I want tonight to be all about you. I want to show you how strong my feelings are for you.” Jax expresses to her.

This is a new experience for Katrina, and she can’t help but feel a little excited about it. When she was with Vince, it was all about what he wanted and how he wanted it. Often times it seemed their lovemaking was very one sided, with her left feeling unsatisfied. Like she was just a toy for his pleasure.

Jax cups Katrina’s face and gives her another soul searing kiss. She can’t get enough of the taste and feel of his lips on hers. His hands wander down to the hem of her shirt and he gently lifts it up. They break the kiss long enough to get the shirt over her head. Jax then goes after Katrina’s belt, pulling it loose from its buckle, then he quickly releases the button on her dark jeans. He slowly slides her jeans down her legs then ghosts his fingers over her panty clad pussy. He smiles when he hears her sharp intake of breath. Katrina toes off her boots then slides the jeans off the rest of the way.

Jax takes a step back to take in Kat’s beauty while he kicks off his own shoes. Her black bra and panties compliment her tanned skin. He takes off his kutte and drapes it over the back of a nearby chair. The question of whether Katrina has more ink finally being answered. He has seen the tattoos on her arms, but now he’s seeing a large dreamcatcher on one of her sides and a colorful feather on the other. There is a black crow with a purple background on her collarbone and an angry wolf surrounded by roses on her thigh. He can’t help but admire the art adorning her body and is surprised that he finds himself getting even more aroused seeing it.

Jax guides Katrina to the bed where she sits on the edge and watches as he removes his pants and white t-shirt. He tosses them onto the growing pile of clothes on the floor. Jax approaches her in just his boxers not bothering to hide the fact that his cock is straining against the material. He tilts her face up for a quick kiss before his lips and tongue start wandering down her neck. He can’t help himself as he leaves a small hickey just above her collarbone. Jax caresses her breasts over the fabric of her bra, before reaching around to unclasp it and watching in awe as her perfect breasts are exposed. He takes one nipple into his mouth sucking and using his tongue to tease it into a peak, while he lightly caresses the other bud. His gently pinches and rolls her exposed nipple with his calloused fingers until it hardens and becomes sensitive. He then laves the other nipple with his tongue, sucking until he feels Kat squirm. Kat feels a tingling sensation travel from her stomach to her core. She can feel wetness gathering in her panties.

Jax lightly pushes on Katrina’s shoulders, encouraging her to lay back on the bed. Settling between her thighs he continues to lavish her body with attention, kissing and licking his way down to her panties. He starts rubbing her clit lightly through her underwear, just enough to cause her to squirm towards his hand. Her breathing becomes erratic, hitching every time his fingers touches the right spot. He can sense a bit of frustration from her at his teasing, causing his lips to curl into a smirk. Finally Jax runs his fingers along the top edge of her panties, slowly pulling them down her thighs, and leaving a trail of kisses and licks in their wake.

That first flick of Jax’s tongue on Katrina’s clit causes an explosion of sensations coursing through her body. She can’t remember the last time someone went down on her, making this time feel like the first time. Jax’s warm breath, and the feel of his whiskers rubbing on her most sensitive area threatening to send her over the edge. Jax can sense her body tensing up, like a coil ready to snap, so he starts kissing the inside of her thighs to give her a chance calm. Once her breathing returns to some semblance of normal he focuses his attention back on her core. The light ghosting of his tongue in her folds and around that little bundle of nerves feels like heaven to Kat. It doesn’t last long though. Jax quickly starts licking and sucking her bud like a man starved for water.

“God baby, you taste like honey to me, and I can’t get enough.” Jax praises her between breaths, as he laps up her juices.

It takes everything inside of Kat not to lose control. She runs her fingers through Jax’s hair as he continues his assault on her clit. His tongue then prodding her slit, going directly to the source of her sweetness. Katrina’s moans increase, and Jax’s name becomes a silent prayer. She then feels his finger teasing at her entrance. Lightly caressing through her folds, gathering moisture before sliding the slender digit inside her. He pumps his finger in and out, surprised at how tight she is. The feeling of her walls clenching on his finger sending a fresh surge of arousal straight to his already straining cock. He could tell the tip of it was already leaking pre-cum. Jax adds another finger inside her to help prepare her for what’s to come. He twists his fingers around and starts doing a come hither motion. Jax quickly finds that little bundle of nerves inside her that will probably be her undoing. He can feel her clench around his fingers and her thighs start to squeeze. Kat starts pulling his hair as he continues licking her clit and rubbing that hidden gem inside her. He can tell Kat is getting close to her release by her ragged breathing and the tightening of her muscles.

“Fuck, Jax, don’t stop.” Katrina manages between shuddering breaths. She can feel the knots in her stomach unraveling. Her impending orgasm right on the cusp of sending her over the edge. Her moans get louder the closer she gets.

“It’s ok baby, you can let go.” Jax encourages her. “Cum for me. Give me some more of that sweet nectar.”

That is her undoing. Jax’s husky voice beckoning her to release the flood gates. Wave after wave of intense pleasure washes over her. Her vision starts to fade and she is seeing stars. Her body shudders and her juices dribble straight into Jax’s waiting mouth. Jax laps every bit of it up as he slows the movement of his fingers. He tries to ease her down from her climax before removing his fingers.

When Kat’s breathing returns to normal she looks down at Jax’s smiling face. The evidence of her release glistening on he mustache and beard. Jax gently withdraws his fingers from inside her pussy, and she instantly feels a void. “I need you inside me.” There is a hunger in her eyes as Kat pleads to Jax. She wants…no needs, more.

Jax stands up and removes his boxers, finally unleashing the beast. Katrina is a little taken back by the size of his cock. She had no idea he was packing that much heat. Explains the loose fitting jeans. She feels a rush of excitement, and maybe a little bit of fear that it’s going to hurt. Jax sees her concern and reminds himself to take it slow, give her some time to adjust. She is nothing like the crow-eaters he’s fucked, girls that have taken so many dicks it a wonder they can feel anything.

“Do you have a condom?” Katrina timidly asks, suddenly nervous. Jax has already produced one son, she doesn’t want to take any chances that tonights actions result in another.

“Yeah, I do.” Jax can’t help but feel a little bummed about not being able to experience her pussy bareback, but he understands. He reaches into the nightstand drawer and pulls out a little foil package. Katrina watches in fascination as he tears it open with his teeth and pulls out the rubber. Jax strokes his straining cock a couple times then rolls the condom down from the tip to the base.

Katrina scoots up the bed giving Jax room to join her. He settles between her legs and pulls her face in for another passionate kiss. He then guides his cock to her core rubbing the head along her folds, gathering her wetness to help ease his passage. He lines himself up and slowly pushes his cock into her wet slit, going an inch at a time. He slowly rocks his hips back and forth, gaining an inch each time he pushes forward. When he finally bottoms out, he pauses for a moment, giving Kat time to adjust to his girth. When Jax stops, Katrina releases the breath she didn’t realize she was holding. She has never felt this full before. There is a slight burning from the stretch in her pussy, as well as an intense pleasure at the fullness.

“Relax your muscles, baby. It’ll help.” Jax whispers in her ear, concern in his tone.

After a few calming breaths, Kat feels ready for him to start moving again. She tilts her pelvis towards him, and then gives him a slight nod. Jax sets a slow pace at the beginning. The feeling of her tight, constricting walls threatening to send him over the edge. He feels like a damn teenager, ready to blow his load after only a few quick pumps. It takes every ounce of his control to prevent that from happening.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so tight.” Jax whispers almost reverently. He’s trying to stay in control, but he feels it slipping fast as he picks up the pace. Thrusting in and out, fast and faster. His balls crashing against her ass, as her walls clench around him. The tip of his cock brushing against her cervix each time he bottoms out.

Katrina feels the knot in her stomach growing. Every time Jax trusts into her pussy a tingle travels down her spine and straight into her core. She can feel her climax quickly approaching. She wraps her arms around his chest, her nails digging into his back. The moans coming from her mouth getting louder and louder each time his cock brushes against her sweet spot.

Jax can feel her tightening around him, and he knows he’s not going to be able to last much longer. “It’s ok, baby. Cum for me. Cum on my cock.” Jax reaches down to her clit, rubbing circles over it with his thumb.

Katrina is plunging over the edge as another intense orgasm rips through her body. Every nerve ending in her body is tingling as her juices coat Jax’s dick and balls. She clings to Jax’s body as she rides out the high. Jax follows her after a few more thrusts, a wave of euphoria washing over his body as his cock releases rope after rope of warm cum. Jax collapses next to her on the bed, then he draws her into his embrace. His twitching cock still nestled in her depths. They both lay there for a moment trying to catch their breath.

“That was amazing.” Jax says in awe, his breathing still labored. His fantasies of her never even coming close to the bliss he just experienced.

Katrina nods her agreement, exhaustion claiming her body. She nestles into Jax’s warmth as he squeezes her against him. Jax kisses the top of her head, as a feeling of contentment washes over him. He doesn’t want this night to end.

After a few minutes the twitching of Jax’s cock subsides and it begins to soften. He wraps his hand around the base of it to hold the condom in place as he withdraws it from Kat’s warm depths. Even as sleep starts to claim Kat, she can’t help the groan that escapes her mouth at the loss of the fullness in her pussy. Jax chuckles a little at the pout now gracing her face. He disposes of the condom in the trash, before heading into the bathroom to clean up. Once he is done cleaning himself, he returns to the bed with a warm washcloth to gently clean Kat. She flinches a little when he wipes around her sensitive bud. He has no doubt that she’s going to be a little sore tomorrow. When he finishes with the washcloth, he tosses it into a nearby laundry basket, before turning off the light. He climbs back into the bed, pulling the covers over them. Katrina seeks out his warmth again, resting her head on his chest as his arm wraps around her back drawing her close. Sleep quickly claims both of them.

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Tagging: @momc95 @jerseynurse82

#redwood original #reaper crew #SAMCRO #soa #soa fanfiction #sons of anarchy imagine #sons of anarchy #jax teller fanfic #jax teller imagine #jax teller smut #jax teller

83 notes · View notes

princess-of-riviaa · 3 years

Text

Dark Minx: Touching the Asset

Training the Asset

Showing the Asset

Pairing: slight Hydra!Steve x OFC (Larisa Antonov), James Barnes x OFC (Larisa Antonov)

Summary: Larisa’s jealousy of James’s sudden success comes to a boiling point.

Warning(s): angsty angst, (sort of) FWB!Steve, Hydra!Steve, James is very good at pretending he knows what he’s doing, dirty talk, fingering, oral (F receiving), slight pain kink (hair pulling), fluff

Word Count: 2.4k

Larisa heard the reports whispered between guards in the hallways of Hydra’s base: “The Asset took the Dark Minx’s lessons to another level,” “I never would have pegged The Winter Soldier for the seducing type, but he seemed to do pretty well on his last mission,” “The Winter Soldier is making a new name for himself through Europe with all the women he’s been with.” Larisa knew not to be surprised by this, and deep down, she knew she wasn’t. But she couldn’t ignore the pang in her chest that came with every word spoken about The Asset these days. That wet, bitter feeling in her chest was foreign. She had no idea what it was, only that she hated it. The feeling made her angry. In the weeks that followed The Asset’s first mission since their training lessons, Larisa’s temper stayed on a short leash. She found herself snapping at those around her more often. But no one called her out on it.

Until Steve found himself in her chamber one day, balls deep inside of her. She clenched the sheets between her fingers as he fucked her from behind. The occasional slap of his hand against her ass made her cry out wantonly, but she was otherwise silent. She couldn’t stop thinking about James fucking those nameless women on his missions. Was he rough with them, the way Steve was with her now? Or was he gentle, slow, teasing? Did he lose himself in their bodies, in the way they stretched around his cock? Did those women make him moan and cry out with ecstasy, the way she longed to do?

Larisa was so lost in her torturous thoughts that she didn’t realize Steve had stopped fucking her until the bed shifted with the absence of his weight. She watched him clean himself up. His gaze was curious as he stared at her.

“How often have you been thinking about him fucking you?” he asked suddenly.

Larisa froze. Was she really that easy to read? “I don’t… I don’t know what you’re—”

“You said his name when I was inside of you,” Steve pointed out. Upon seeing Larisa’s eyes widen, he shrugged and added, “I could care less about who’s name you cry out when we fuck. This is transactional to both of us, an itch we both need to scratch.”

Yes, that had been the deal they’d made almost a year ago now. When they needed a release and Steve wasn’t going to find it on a mission, or Larisa with a soldier she was training, they could come to each other. No strings attached. Just sex. Rough, wild, animalistic sex—exactly what they both craved deep down.

Steve went on, “I’m only saying this because I’d rather have you around than not: but be careful. If any of our commanders find out your relationship to The Asset is more than what it’s supposed to be—if they catch word that there’s any sort of emotions involved, they’ll get rid of both of you.” They’ll kill you, is what he didn’t say. “It would be a pain in my ass to find someone else in this place who fucks as good as you do, so try not to let that happen.”

Larisa didn’t know what to say. That was the closest to “nice” that Steve had ever been with her. His edges were all rough, his personality a rough callous. “Sentimental” wasn’t a word she would use to describe him. Yet here he was, warning her to stay out of trouble. Telling her that he would miss her.

“Here I was thinking Hydra’s Golden Boy didn’t have a heart,” she finally remarked in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Steve didn’t take the bait, but the look in his eyes said enough. He really would be upset if something happened to her.

She admitted in a quiet voice, “You know that all of that… I’d say the same to you.” She was bad at this, at talking about emotions, at letting herself care about someone. She didn’t really know how to put it into words.

But from the look in his eyes, she knew that Steve heard what she wasn’t able to say. “Until next time,” he said, and then left.

…

“It’s been decided that you’ve more than excelled in everything that I can teach you,” Larisa said to James the next day. She didn’t look him in the eye, nor did she speak to him in the soft tone she usually reserved for him. In fact, she hadn’t uncrossed her arms since he’d entered her room. “So we won’t be seeing each other anymore.”

“Oh.” Was that… disappointment in his voice?

No. She was reading into things. And even if he was disappointed… it didn’t matter. She’d barely see him after today. Whatever they had was done.

“What did I do wrong?” James asked after a minute of tense silence.

She looked at him for the first time today. God, he was beautiful. She would miss being this close to him every day. But she couldn’t find it in herself to say anything, not when opening her mouth would just bring trouble.

“You’re acting strange,” James noted, taking a step towards where she leaned against the wall. “You’re not normally like this.” He swallowed. “Not around me, at least.”

She looked away from him, bringing her eyes to the floor.

“What did I do wrong?” he repeated.

“Nothing.” Her voice was thick with bitterness. “You did it all perfectly. You fucked those women just like you were supposed to.”

James blinked. “Wait—is this about my missions?”

She didn’t say anything. The look on her face was answer enough, though.

He took another step towards her. His stride was long enough that he closed the distance between them, and suddenly his hand was on her cheek, his thumb brushing along the line of her jaw in a gentle caress. She wanted to lean into it. She wanted to cry.

“Are you… jealous?” he finally asked.

“No!” she said too quickly, glaring at him.

He raised an eyebrow, not believing her for a second. “You sound jealous. You look it, too.”

Her face burned enough that she couldn’t find words.

“You’re jealous of those women,” he realized, “because you want me to fuck you.”

She swallowed. If she opened her mouth now, all bets were off. She’d give into her desire and that… that wouldn’t end well.

But then James’s face was buried in the crook of her neck, and his hands were on her hips, and her vision grew blurry as her heart shot to her throat. “I’ve wanted you since that first day,” he confessed, his words a caress against her skin. “Long before you ever touched me for the first time. It scared me—how much I wanted you, the things I would do to have you. Let me have you, Larisa. Please.”

She tried to push him away, but as soon as her hands pressed against his stomach, she couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but bask in the warmth radiating off of him. “We can’t—”

“Give me a bad report, tell whoever you have to that my skills aren’t sufficient enough for you to stop training me.” He brushed his mouth against the space between her ear and neck and it took everything inside of her to keep from moaning. “Because one way or another, I’m coming back here tomorrow. And the next day. Now that I know you want me back, Larisa, I’m not leaving you alone.”

“James…” It came out as more of a moan than a whine of protest.

“Let me make love to you,” he breathed against her skin. “Let me touch you. I want to make you feel good. I want to make you cum again and again, until you can’t breathe. Until you can’t even see straight.”

Now she was definitely moaning.

He circled his thumbs around her hips, suddenly antsy to touch her somewhere else. “Can I touch you, Larisa?”

“Please.” The word was out of her mouth before she could stop it, and she didn’t have a chance to take it back before his hand was between her legs.

He leaned his forehead against her own. Their shaking breaths morphed into one as her entire body burned with heat. James moved his hand in circles over her clothed core, providing just enough pressure for her hips to start bucking up with need.

“I want you so bad,” he breathed against her skin.

She moaned. “What do you want?”

“To fuck you. To make you scream my name until your voice is hoarse,” he answered as he leaned down—not to kiss her, but to tug her bottom lip between his teeth.

Her hands jumped to his shoulders in a desperate attempt to pull him even closer to her. She had no doubt that her desperation was written all over her face. She wondered if that was what made James catch his breath and curse in another language—Russian, she had learned a few weeks ago. It was the language he reverted back to when arousal clouded his mind past the point of speaking coherently. And the fact that he was thinking it now…

She pulled him in for a kiss. It was quick and needy and messy, a mix of tongue and teeth and shaking breaths. And when he moved to pull away, to kiss down her neck, she pulled him back to her mouth. Because if she didn’t, if she gave herself a chance to speak… She knew exactly what she would say. She would beg him to fuck her. And that would… complicate things, to say the least. So they continued to kiss until her lips were swollen and she was drunk on the taste of him.

When he finally pulled away, it was quick. He was on his knees before she could stop him. He kept his gaze on her as he tugged her pants down, and that darkness in his eyes…

“Fuck,” she gasped, practically whimpered.

He only looked away from her when he was face to face with her sex. James really did figure out the proper way to touch a woman, because he dragged two fingers between her folds with expertise, knowing the exact pressure to apply to her clit as he started to rub it.

Larisa threw her head back. The moan she released could barely be muffled by the hand she clamped over her mouth.

“You’re so wet for me, fuck,” James breathed. And then he shoved a finger inside of her. He looked up at her as he started to finger her, watching her face closely as he increased his pace before backing off and changing to a teasingly slow tempo. “You’re so fucking sexy, Larisa. You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about doing this to you—about making you come undone from just my fingers.”

She began to grind her hips against his finger, desperate for him to increase his pace.

“I want you to cum all over my face,” he told her as he threw her leg over his shoulder, and then his mouth was on her clit and—

“James!” she cried out, her eyes squeezing shut as her mouth fell open.

She’d been fucked by plenty of skilled men before, but this time was different. All of those men… none of them had mattered. She hadn’t cared about any of them. But James… she cared about him, whether she was ready to admit it or not. And that made this so much more intense.

If she thought James had skilled fingers, it was nothing compared to his mouth. He moved his tongue between her folds and along her clit as if he’d spent years doing this, as if he already knew every spot to touch to push her all over the edge. He latched his hands around her hips, pulling her sex even tighter against his face, as if he felt that same desperation that she did—the desperate need to get infinitely closer to him. The sound of his eager tongue lapping up her juices filled the room, followed by her breathy moans and his lustful groans.

She didn’t realize she’d dug her hands into his hair until his moans grew louder. Oh, he likes that. She tugged at his roots slightly. James moaned wantonly in response. His mouth was suddenly ferocious against her pussy and she felt that delicious heat in her core grow. She was close. She was so fucking close.

“James,” she gasped. “I’m gonna... fuck, I’m gonna cum!”

He breathed something against her clit in Russian. The vibration of his voice against her heat was the final straw. He continued to eagerly eat her out as she came, soaking his face with her arousal. She couldn’t quiet her moans this time, nor could she stop from crying out his name. James licked up every last drop before he finally rose to his feet.

The look in his eyes made her burn. Not because it was full of lust—which it was—but because there was another emotion there. An emotion that Larisa felt too, despite how dangerous it was.

When he kissed her, she told herself she was moaning because of the taste of her carousal on his mouth, not because he kissed her with such intensity that she knew he had feelings for her.

“Would it make you feel better to know that I think about you every time I’m with someone else?” he breathed against her mouth.

“James…” Her voice was little more than a whisper.

“Every. Single. Time.” He leaned his forehead against hers and breathed in deeply, as if memorizing her scent, before he reluctantly Stepped back. “I have another mission, but can I see you when I come back? I should return tomorrow night.”

She hesitated. She should say no, she knew that, but… “Come back in one piece, then you can visit me.”

That was the last time she ever saw The Winter Soldier.

...

Tag squad:

@thereisa8ella @geralt-of-baevia @the-soot-sprite @bitchyikes @captainsy-cookiemonster @satkisai

let me know if you want to be added or removed from my taglist

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #the winter soldier smut #the winter solider fanfiction #the winter soldier #steve rogers smut #hydra cap

48 notes · View notes

bottlecaprabbitgames · 4 years

Note

how did you guys start learning how to use the code for cog? I’ve been trying for like two years but keep giving up because i can’t understand how it works LOL im more of a writer and don’t know a single thing about code -a (just gonna mark my asks LOL)

Well, Faye learned it first, then taught me! It's not that hard, it just takes some getting used to; I recommend using smth like Notepad++ to write in and color code different bits of code. I'll give a guide here for anyone who wants to try it or in case smth here helps you get it! I'll leave yall like pictures of examples of things after I word it all out.

Some main things to remember:

You have two files that HAVE to have specific names. Startup, where all your created permanent variables go (+ some more things, I'll get into those later, plus any additional content you want), has to be named startup.txt always. The files that holds your stat "pages" also has a specific name; choicescript_stats.txt has to always be its name.

In your startup file, you have multiple things: variables you created that will be used multiple times over multiple files; your scene list, where you put all your scenes and list them in sequential order; your name as the author; your game title; yhe copyright wording; and, during your time using dashingdon, the code string to make saves work. You can also have more in it of course, but those are the main things.

You will be indenting a LOT. A single indent is either 4 spaces with ur spacebar or your tab key. You can ONLY choose one or the other, do NOT EVER mix spaces and tabs, it'll break things. Choose one n stick with it.

Coding in CS is pretty simple once you learn it. There isn't a whole lot of commands due to it being more simplified to be more beginner friendly, so lets get into those.

Creating a variable. In your startup file, all you have to do to make a variable you want to use is *create variablename, plus whether it's a numerical, has a string of text, or is true/false. examples: Numerical would be *create variable 0; string would be *create variable ""; and true/false *create variable false (or replace false w true if you want it to be true up till smth turns it false).

Using the variable. There's a LOT of ways to use a variable. Like, a shit ton. Let's start w smth like the name variable a lot of people use! So, let's say you've written a choice up to set player name (I'll show you how to format a choice in a bit). Under your choice options, you can then use *set name "name" and to use it in text, you simply do ${name}! If you let someone choose their name (which I'll also show you how to do), you can do *set name "$!{name}" to make sure it's always capitalized! (Only need to do this when players pick their own names, when you use *set name "name" you can capitalize it inside the "").

Using the variable #2. For doing *if statements (commands that let you dictate different things, like say a scene will only play if a certain variable is true or false, a choice is only avaliable if the player meets a certain criteria, etc), it's pretty simple. You just for true/false: *if (variable) for if it's true (you need the parenthesis for this one) and *if (not(variable)) for false. For a string, *if (variable = "whatever you've got it set to") or *if (variable != "whatever you've put") <this one is for if the variable doesnt equal that. For numerical: *if (variable = 0) (or whatever number u got), *if (variable <= 0) (for if the variable is equal to or less than the number), *if (variable >= 0) (if variable is more or equal to number), *if (variable > 0) (variable more than 0), and *if (variable < 0) (variable less than number). Outside of using the *if statement to open or close off a choice, you always indent under it once until the content only available for it is done.

Using the variable #3: Setting variables. Okay so, what you set your variables to and how you do will effect how you can set up stats eventually, which we'll get into. Your variables you created as numerical values can be set two ways: with just adding/minusing numbers (which you HAVE to be careful with and keep track of; cs does NOT work with negative numbers) or percentages (like in the stats you see as Cautious or Careful). Basically: *set variable +3 (for normal numbers), or *set variable %+3 (for percentages). Percentages are safest when you plan on having a stat be able to be negated a lot, but it also makes it harder to figure out how it's going to increase/decrease. I personally prefer the regular numbers for like counting how many options someone can use before they're kicked out of a choice branch, or when you use a counter for relationship points.

Making a choice. Alright, so, choices. The bread and butter of interactive fiction. There are two types of choices inside of CS: *choice choices and *fake_choice choices. You will mostly use *fake_choice choices as *choice ones are reserved ONLY for when you're jumping the player to a different scene/path/etc. *fake_choice choices can also do this, but they also can be used for literally anything: setting variables like appearance, name, etc; dialogue; stat changes (like in TWC when you chose which stat to build); etc etc. To set up a choice you go to a fresh line in your coding word processor, then for a fake choice: *fake_choice (on the first line). Hit enter, indent once, and now you can make your choices! all you do is #(choice stuff here) (with no ()). Then, under your choice if it has content, you indent twice before starting. You also have to indent twice each time you start a new paragraph in the content. Each time you make a new choice, you simply indent once and use # before the choice's stuff. Once you're done with the choices, go to a new line under the choices section and dont indent to continue.

Making a choice #2: *choice choices. Okay, so *choice choices are made the same, EXCEPT you only use them to send the player elsewhere. So, follow the same setup as a *fake_choice (except with *choice instead, ofc), but the "content" will be generally a *goto_scene scenename (you port the player to a completely new file, called a "scene) or a *goto labelname (keeps the player in the current file, but allows you to show different versions of a scene or of a section of your chapter to the player, plus you can make them all eventually meet up again). I generally say use a standard *goto versus a *goto_scene unless you want to change so much you NEED to use different files.

*goto labelname and labels. Basically, labels are your friends. They're really nice and make it to where you can make different scenes with choices without making you have huge indented craziness under a choice. Also, it lets you make a choice where the player can select MULTIPLE options. All you need to do is *goto labelname , then somewhere down the file put *label labelname and all the content you want under it. After you're done and you have a spot you want everything to meet up at, you can do another *goto labelname , go down the file, and do *label labelname again! Sounds WAY more complicated than it is, trust me.

Ending a scene. So, you've come to the end of your chapter. You're ready to move players to the next one, but how do you do that? *finish is all you need! At the end of your file, all you gotta do *finish (and you can put some words as a transition following it, like when you move to the next page)! That's it, the game will move to the next available scene! If there isn't one, your player will get that scene that asks if you want to play again.

Next Page. In case you aren't aware, all you need to "change" a page is *page_break (any words you want in transition without these ().)

Stat Page Shenanigans. Now, I hate stat pages. With a fuckin passion. It's the thing I leave last and pretend it doesn't exist until I absolutely have to make it. Making "pages" in your stats page isnt too bad; all you do is a *choice with choices that lead to labels where each thing falls. Remember, each label needs it's own *choice too so the player can navigate to other "pages". To make stat bars and stuff isn't too bad ig... I just hate doing it. all you gotta do is *stat_chart, then indent each stat bar/counter under it. it'll put them all next to each other, too. There's multiple stat types: opposed_pair variable (and you can indent under it and put the words you want an opposed pair to show); for a numerical counter, you need a numerical variable, then *stat_chart and indented under it is text variable Variableword(s); and for a percentage bar, you need a variable that you've been setting with %s, then under a *stat_chart you put percent variable variablenameorword.

This is a lot of just the basics; if y'all want me to go into like... more SPECIFIC things that you don't get or more complicated manuevers lemme know in the ask box, I'll be glad to help u! Now, photos:

Startup page shenanigans. You have the copyright wording (which I broke into *comment s mainly bc it kept bugging otherwise), the *title which sets your title, *author which sets the author, and *scene_list plus subsequent "scenes" or files that hold new chapters/portions of the game.

Different types of variables created. Ones like sarcasm and mercy are set at 50 to start because I use them as opposed pairs like Sarcastic/Genuine and Merciful/Wrathful. You can also name a variable anything you want.

Here we go, a screenshot with a LOT going on. Firstly, a *fake_choice choice. A *page_break. And a *choice choice + one of the labels it jumped to.

Two examples of *if statements and choices, plus how they work together.

Some stat charts.

Some of this was taken from WCA, hope you don't mind! It's the one open in my word processor so I used it for some things while others I typed up myself. I hope this helps you some and anyone else!!

#messages #coding #coding help #choicescript #choicescript guide

89 notes · View notes

saiilorstars · 3 years

Text

Redemption

// Story Masterlist //

Fandom: Legends of Tomorrow

Pairing: Rip Hunter x OFC

Story summary: Graciela Haynez made her peace when Rip Hunter walked out of her life—she was at the top of the chain reigning as the infamous Jinx after all. Years later when Rip disappears, the Legends bring Graciela to the Waverider to find him thanks to a letter the Captain himself wrote asking for her presence. Graciela knows that the letter was written in a time before everything fell out between them but it’s urgent to find Rip before the Legion does. Graciela wants to believe she's become a better version of herself but as she leads the Legends & fights the Legion, she finds herself questioned. Is she still the Jinx—a mantle that has passed down from generation to generation with the promise to keep the fear instilled in others—or has the mantle die with her when she decided to switch sides?

No real warnings for the story except its casual curse words here and there.

Taglist: @ocfairygodmother @anotherunreadblog @maaaaarveeeeel (If you’d like to be added to this OC’s works/edits, let me know!)

Graciela’s face claim is Keira Knightley!

"Fall back!" A tall woman with short, rather stringy, brown hair ordered a group of resistance fighters behind her. She thrust a hand forwards, releasing purple beams that caused several of the street poles to come crashing down from their spots. With (bad) luck, they would fall on their enemies. "Take to hiding! Retreat!" Her voice reverberated over the gunshots being fired their way. "HIDE!"

She took hiding behind a thick green bush. Squatting, she dared to only poke her head to the side to see if she had been followed by anyone.

Unfortunately, she didn't account for time travelers to sneak up on her from behind. Someone delivered a well-blown hit on the back of her head, sending her to the ground completely unconscious.

By the time the woman came-to, she had been locked away in some glass prison inside a bigger room. She sat upright and found herself sitting on a metal bench. Her coat had been stripped from her, revealing a distinguishable purple and black super-suit clothing underneath. The moment she had a clear view of her new environment, she saw she was not alone.

A group of six stood in a perfect line on the other side of the prison. The woman's brown eyes examined these new people and easily deduced — from their clothing — that they were not from the same time. They couldn't be from the 2166.

"What do time travelers want with me?" She made her first words and revealed herself to be an English woman. Her head tilted from one side to the other as she continued studying them. "Again?"

"Again?" went the blonde woman of the group.

"We don't mean to harm you," a dark-haired man spoke up. He stepped closer but when the brunette shot up he backtracked that step.

"If you meant that, then you wouldn't have locked me in this…" the woman had come up to the wall facing the team, palms taking note of the material of the walls, "...prison. To be exact, you would not have attacked me at all."

"We didn't attack…" the blonde woman corrected.

"When I want to attack someone, I hit them," the brunette said, "Preferably hard. Is that not what you did?"

"Look we're here on peaceful terms," a dark-skinned man said next. "We didn't mean to but you we just...didn't know how to get your attention without you wanting to blow us up like you did to those other guys — how exactly do you do that by the way?"

"Jefferson," scolded an elder man standing beside him. The brunette just smirked.

"You should just be happy all we did was give you a light pat on the back," spoke another man, a taller and more built-up man.

The woman raised her eyebrow. "I should be thankful you locked me up? I doubt you're the police. I've met them and they're not you."

"We're sort of like them," the blonde woman gave a crooked smile. "But you were out there fighting and no doubt killing. You question us?"

"I question your motives, not your tactics," the brunette woman corrected. "Last time I checked, time travelers should want nothing to do with a rebellion fighter. Explain yourselves."

The team took her natural order with mild surprise and amusement. The last man, who had yet to speak, one with dark brown hair cleared his throat and pulled out a folded letter from his pocket.

"It's because of this," he held it for the woman to see. "It was written for a Graciela Haynez...you. We had to contact you and the ship sort of led us to you. Right, Gideon?"

The woman, Graciela, blinked and immediately looked up at the ceiling much like the others did when they spoke to the ship's A.I system. "Gideon?" she repeated.

"Good to see you again, Miss Haynez," Gideon dutifully responded, surprising the others with the familiarity the A.I seemed to have towards the woman and vice versa.

"Of course," Graciela mumbled and got to reading the letter the man was holding against the glass for her to read.

The blonde woman had been carefully watching Graciela for her reactions and concluded with ease they had the right woman. "You know who wrote the letter?"

"Know him? I was there when he wrote it," Graciela's emotionless voice had finally faded a little. Her eyes were glued to the worn out letter. "Where is he?"

The blonde looked at the rest of her teammates, getting the encouragement to go on, and began to explain. "My name's Sara Lance, and these are the members that your friend, Rip Hunter, collected months back. That's Ray, Mick, Jax, Professor Stein and the temporary newbie, Nate. He helped us find you."

"I don't thank you," Graciela was quick to tell him. Nate blinked with surprise but Sara went right to business.

"Here's the deal. There was an accident and Rip sent us all to different time periods to save us. When Nate here helped rescue us, we realized Rip was nowhere in the timeline - or at least we couldn't find him in the scans."

"So you found the letter that asks me to lead you all," Graciela remembered perfectly the content of that letter Rip himself wrote. Her eyes flickered to Nate again. "I really don't thank you."

"Got that," he cleared his throat.

"We don't know who you are so we put you in here, excuse us," Sara shrugged, really looking like she didn't care what Graciela felt about this. "Rip had trust in you but I wonder if you trust us?"

There was a sadistic smile on Graciela's face that put everyone on edge. "Trust a group that imprisoned me and continues to imprison me? I'm not the only one who knows what's wrong with that sentence am I?"

The others looked at each other silently, pretty much agreeing what she said was true. If they wanted to trust her, she needed to trust them as well. Taking the step up, Sara walked up to the cell and activated the release code. Graciela locked eyes with her as the doors began to open for her.

"Interesting," Graciela quirked a half smile and stepped just outside the cell. She tilted her head and moved eyes across the Legends. "You must be that desperate."

"We let you go, might as well be a little nicer," Sara mumbled and started heading out, prompting the others to do the same.

Graciela made an amused expression before swaying her way after the team. None of them saw it fade away the moment she stepped into the corridors and took notice of the familiar hallways. Her demeanor changed into that of dark glumness. It didn't change when she walked into the main room of the ship, the bridge, and she eyed all of its features.

"I take it you're all responsible for the destruction of the Time Masters' organization?" Graciela asked with hints of amusement no one could understand. Seeing their strange looks, she added, "I wasn't a big fan of them and they weren't huge fans of my work either."

"You knew about them?" Stein inquired. Graciela nodded. "I thought they were on a strict need-to-know-basis."

"I knew Rip before he went into their training as well as another friend there...and I may have been arrested by them for some unauthorized time traveling I did a year ago."

"What do you mean?" Jax raised an eyebrow at her. Her revelation put all of the Legends on edge. Exactly who did Rip want them to find!?

"The Time Masters backed my city's previous dictator in his, uh, experiments towards the undesirable," Graciela brought her fingers up to make air quotation marks. "The scum of the cities, the criminals — like me. I decided that I didn't like the way things were going and since neither Rip nor our other friend, Kai, could do anything about it, I decided to take matters into my own hands. It didn't end well...clearly." She gestured to herself.

"What kind of experiments did they do?" Ray asked.

"The kind where they take people and you never see them again," she answered bluntly.

"Okay," Sara called them to order. She was standing by the prime computer, waiting for everyone to listen. Graciela turned to the blonde, not quite liking the style in which she was being treated. "Look, we called you in—"

Graciela clicked her tongue and waggled a finger at Sara. "No, we established you did not 'call me'."

Sara conceded and continued. "We found the letter..." She motioned Ray to do something and before Graciela knew it, Ray was holding out the worn out, yellowish, folded letter. Graciela looked like she would rather hold lava rocks than the letter as she took it from Ray. She did not unfold it, however. "There was an incident in one of our travels," Sara began again. "And...while we're all together again, we can't find Rip anywhere. We need you to help us find him...and in the meantime be the Captain of the Waverider."

"And if I say no?"

Sara really did not like the woman's challenging attitude but, for the sake of their team, she let it go. "We would really appreciate it if you did. Rip would have appreciated it too."

"No, he wouldn't have," Graciela looked around the room with a type of glumness that the others noticed. "Believe me."

"Why wouldn't he?" Stein frowned. "He wrote the letter asking us to find—"

"I know what the letter said," Graciela cut him off with a loud voice, startling them. "When Rip wrote that letter it was a very different time, alright? We were young and stupid and a lot of time has passed by since then. Things changed." Her voice hardened with clear feelings. "Truth is, I haven't seen Rip in years."

"So you had problems, big deal," Sara said rather blankly. "If Rip wanted to, he would have destroyed the letter and maybe written another one, but he didn't—"

"You don't know that," Graciela pointed at her.

"No, but it's sort of all we have and we're taking it. Whatever happened should be forgotten when he's gone missing. You're all that's left for him, alright? He lost his wife and his son, so if you're the one that can help us find him, then you're coming."

Graciela was left dumbfounded by Sara's words. Had she just said that Rip lost...? "He what?" She swallowed hard. "He lost Miranda and Jonah?" She didn't wait for Sara to answer and instead looked at the others for their expressions. It seemed like only Nate was clear of any feelings. "Oh my God."

Sara felt for the woman's shock but they couldn't waste time. Rip was gone and possibly in danger. They needed to work fast. "Look, we need guidance right now, and most of all we need someone who understands the logic of all this timeline crap."

Graciela sighed, looking and feeling frustrated. "You don't understand — he wouldn't want me here!"

"But he's not here!" Sara snapped. "So get over that. We—" she motioned to the team, "—need you."

"You don't get it, I am the worst candidate to lead a time traveling team. I don't follow all the stupid time line crap that comes with the job."

Jax chuckled. "Then I think you're the perfect Captain."

Graciela briefly smiled for his words. She looked around the bridge and, to her aching heart, everything remained the same as the last time she was on-board. "Gideon," she called the A.I. softly.

"Yes, Miss Haynez?"

"Is he in danger?"

"I am not certain but if I may say, he chose not to get rid of the letter."

Graciela's eyes lowered. That certainly boosted her mood but she was quick to squash it down with the reminder of the reasons they were no longer amicable with each other. Still, if Rip was in danger and something happened to him she would never forgive herself. She would just have to start with the team he supposedly put together. If they were good enough on their own, she would handle them from afar — checking in every now and then — until Rip was back. "A trial," she settled. "24 hours to see what you are and what you can do. If I see, in all honesty, that you don't need me, I get to leave but—" she was quick to say when she saw Sara opening her mouth, "—I would still help you from afar. Believe me, if I don't have to be on this ship then I won't be. But I will always try to help Rip if he needs it."

Sara nodded her head. "Fine."

Graciela's lips stretched into a smile. "You're trial starts now."

Sara rolled her eyes and moved around the computer table to bring up the newest aberration. She did, though, notice Graciela stroking Rip's letter in her hands. The brunette was lost in some thoughts until Mick's gruff voice pulled her out from it.

"1942, why does it always have to be 1942?" Mick wondered out loud after looking into the newest aberration.

"Maybe we should stop trying that year." Even Jax had to agree with Mick on that one. Considering it was the place where they lost Rip and nearly died themselves, the year was left pretty tarnished for them.

"We gotta go back," Sara shrugged, not having a second doubt about it.

"Graciela!" Ray quickly called, startling the woman across them. She turned around with half-widened eyes. "Looks like you get to observe us quicker than you thought. How do you feel about 1942?"

The expression on Graciela's face was unreadable.

~ 0 ~

The year of the 40s was never a popular one in history and as the team now strode down a street, Graciela figured she could've done without meeting it. "What exactly were we here for?" she asked Sara as the two waited outside a symposium while the rest of the team was scattered around the building.

"Just a quick change in history," Sara shrugged. "Nothing big." She glanced at the brunette with a smirk, "Sorry for no real observation this time."

"You know, I don't know how you expect me to actually lead this team if none of you like me. I don't think it was the same story with Rip, was it?"

"Nah," Sara swayed her head as she tried remembering their early days on the Waverider, "Well, we did punch him sometimes…"

"Do that to me and I promise you it'll be the last story you ever tell," Graciela darkly warned her, but Sara responded with a wide smirk.

"Don't do what Rip did then."

Eventually the team regrouped outside the symposium where, apparently, they had finished altering time just a smidge with Albert Einstein.

"What do you guys say we get outta 1942?" Sara asked them while already making way for the Waverider. However, the sound of a gun cocking made them stop and look back.

A different team assembled by peculiar people had gathered outside, all apparently against the Legends.

"Not until you answer a few questions," one of the team, a man, warned.

"We're the Justice Society of America," a dark-skinned woman stepped forwards, "And you're coming with us."

"Oh, my God," Nate sucked in a breath at the sight of a middle-aged man dress mostly in blue, red and white, "You're Commander Steel."

"Whoa, whoa. Just relax. We're all friends here," Ray stepped forwards with his hands raised.

Jax also shared the same innocence as Ray. "Rex Tyler told us about the JSA. You guys are awesome. Hey. The name's Jax."

The same man Nate had directed words to responded. "Rex never mentioned any of you. Mind telling us what you were doing impersonating OSS agents?"

Graciela was eyeing the opposing team's statute and easily saw this going wrong if this team — the Legends apparently — didn't know how to fight well.

"It's quite simple, actually. We were protecting Albert Einstein from Nazi agents who were attempting to kidnap him and force him to build an atomic bomb in the future," Stein explained. "Time travel. It's... it's hard to explain."

"You can take all the time you need. In custody," the dark-skinned woman smiled sarcastically.

Nate tried to interject as he moved towards Commander Steel. "Whoa, take it easy. Let's talk for a minute. I mean, after all, you're my-" but he was easily punched to the ground.

Graciela slapped a hand across her forehead as the Legends jumped straight into action to fight. "Don't fight, you idiots!" she screamed but, of course, no one listened to her. She barely had time to react when a man dressed in near all black jumped in front of her. Immediately she tried throwing in some punches but the man proved to be more smoke than anything else.

"What the—" she was punched across the face and knocked flat on her back.

"Obsidian, shut off the lights!" the man named Steel ordered from afar.

Graciela's attacker, Obsidian, obeyed and with a golden staff had smoke cover the area, turning everything dark. The only source of light came from Firestorm who was still flying in the air avoiding the star-spangled woman repeatedly firing at them with her own staff.

Graciela raised her head, feeling it groggy but still able to see what was happening. What she saw was disaster from her 'team'. Before they knew it, each one had been brought down by their opponent.

~ 0 ~

"You just had to mention time travel, didn't you?" Sara glumly asked from inside the large cage they had all been pushed into.

"Yeah, well, at least he didn't throw the first punch," Ray said from his side of the cage.

"I'm perfectly capable of defending myself, Raymond," Stein shot him a look, although he missed the one Sara threw him afterwards.

"I'm pretty sure that you got knocked out by a teenager in a star-spangled leotard."

"Her name's Stargirl," Nate informed her, not that anyone really cared.

"Did anybody catch her regular-person name?" Jax not-so-discreetly inquired.

"I'm surprised you didn't ask for her number," Graciela rolled her eyes. "I see the whole 'men' thing never really changed throughout time."

"Oh, so it's my fault that we got our asses handed to us?"

"No," Graciela said plainly before clarifying it completely, "It's all of your faults." She threw looks at each and everyone of the team.

"Excuse me?" Sara raised an eyebrow, making a threatening advance on her.

"You asked me to observe and this is something I observed," Graciela reminded her. "You're all uncoordinated because you're doing your own things. Honestly, how did Rip ever control you?"

"Badly if you asked me," Mick mumbled.

"You guys, just listen to me for two…" Nate tried cutting in but Mick cut him out.

"Pretty, shut up. If I recall, you were late coming to the party."

"All of you need to shut up!" Graciela raised her voice to get her own words in. "This was a ten minute trip into 1942 and look where we are? I can't imagine what a day of travel would consist for you!"

"We've never been tracked before like this," Ray tried to make themselves look better in front of the woman.

"It's because they're the Justice Society of America, the single greatest secret force this country has ever known," Nate finally got his comment in.

Sara turned on him, arms crossed. "If it's so secret, how do you know about them?"

"Because his Nazi handlers have briefed him, no doubt," Commander Steel walked into the room along with the dark-skinned woman.

Nate sighed at the accusation. "Look, I'm not a Nazi. I'm a historian."

"Here we go with the time travel nonsense again," mumbled the woman.

Nate scowled at her and, like to end all doubts, recited, "070233."

The simple set of numbers attracted the attention of Commander Steel. "What?"

"Those are numbers on your dog tags. They're not disclosed on any documents, military or otherwise."

"How do you know that?"

"You gave these to your wife after the birth of your son in 1955. The dent in the front was from an assassin's bullet when you saved President Roosevelt in 1939. Your son passed them down to his son, me."

There was an awkward silence following the next minutes, and suddenly Commander Steel ordered the woman with him to do something in a low mumble. Shooting them a look, the woman went off to do whatever had been asked of her.

"You're opening the door," Graciela leaned off the bars of the cage once the man proceeded to unlock the cage door. "That's a good sign." She then sent a look at Nate. "You should have spoken up before, moron."

The team of Legends were led out of the cage and down a hallway. No one uttered a word until they reached another room equipped with various machines of the period. The rest of the JSA stood there waiting for them with one particular man in front.

"Mr. Tyler," Stein recognized.

Jax relaxed then, thinking it was all going to get better. "See? Rex Tyler. Told you we knew the guy."

However, Rex remained in the dark. "I don't know you. Any of you. Tell me what the heck is going on here."

Sara sighed, moving forwards to explain. "Well, we tried explaining…"

But Rex cut her off. "I'm sorry, ma'am, I was addressing the team leader," he gestured for Stein.

The elder man was surprised by the confusion but nonetheless went on to explain. "Uh...uh... oh. Oh, well, simply put, we've come here as time travelers to identify aberrations in history and correct them."

"We're superheroes, like you guys," Ray simplified but earned himself a very mocking laugh from Stargirl.

"You think you're just like us?"

"Listen leotard," Graciela then took a step towards her, "This team tries to make history continue as it should be for both past and future. Yours will be lucky to take care of the world for only about thirty more years so if I were you, I'd button up that mouth of yours." Behind Graciela, there were several affectionate smirks in regards to her words. They were beginning to see for real now why Rip would choose her to lead the team in his absence. "They protect history," she finished.

"It's pretty important. In the future, you risk your own life to save us, Mr. Tyler," Stein once again tried to explain.

"How do you know my name?"

Jax groaned. "Because you told us your name in 2016. You sent our ship down and told us not to come to 1942 before you disappeared."

Rex leaned back to his other team members and mumbled. "You might've been onto something with the Bellevue idea."

A phone ringing interrupted the conversation. It turned out to be the president of the time, FDR, who needed the JSA to help.

"All right, we have to move out. Baron Krieger's been spotted in Paris," Rex informed the rest of his team.

"If it's permissible, sir, I'll fly ahead and record Krieger's movements," the dark-skinned woman offered.

"Sensible, as always."

"We could help you out with that. Fighting Nazis is kind of our thing," Jax also offered but had less results.

"Yeah. Last time we tried, we ended up at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean," Mick reminded.

"We can handle Adolf's buddies," Rex assured. "I think it's best for the 20th Century if…"

"For us to leave it?" Stein asked with discreet hope.

"And that's why you're team leader."

"Well, I guess we'll be on our way, then…" Stein looked at his team members urging them to quickly leave before someone changed their minds.

~0~

"Well that was a disaster," Graciela was the first to speak after entering the ship. "Was there supposed to be something else to see? You know, something that might make it alright to leave you without supervision?" Because now she wasn't so sure that leaving them on their own would guarantee a quick and safe return for Rip.

Even though mostly everyone wanted to snap back at her, no one could come up with a reason that would defend them. Graciela was far too irritated to continue being in the same room. She left without another word.

"I've never met such an uncoordinated team in my life, and that's saying something," she was muttering to herself as she strode down the corridor. She came to a brief stop in order to calm herself and remind herself why she was there in the first place.

After taking her moment - actually several moments - she made way back to the main room only to find everyone else gone. She did spy, however, someone in the side room and went in to find Nate checking out photographs on a computer screen.

"Did everybody go plan how to throw me out the ship?" Graciela made her entrance with mild humor.

Nate smiled at her but kept looking at the screen. "I actually thought you made a good point back there."

"Then why didn't you say anything? I could've used the numbers," Graciela leaned on the threshold. "I'm, uh, not exactly all that like-able if you haven't noticed."

"I'm not technically part of their team either, so…" Nate put a finger to his mouth.

"Well technically neither am I - means I like you just a bit more than the others right now," Graciela then thought for a moment before adding, "And maybe Ray too." She studied the content on the screen for real and hummed. "The actual JSA. In my time, they were known as legends or myths...who would've thought they were actually real." Nate raised one hand silently. "Right," Graciela laughed. "Well, they're a very good functioning team based from what I saw. They were precise, professional, in constant agreement...everything a team needs to be in order to win their opponent."

"You seem to know a lot about teams and leading," Nate remarked off-handedly, "Care to give me a little insight?"

Graciela pursed her lips and looked straight ahead, this case finding the screen again, with her hands on her hips. "So, this is Grandpa then?" she changed the subject calmly.

Although seeing her tactic, Nate went along with it, figuring she wasn't ready to disclose her personal life. "Yeah. Pictures of him are hard to find. You just got to know where to look."

Graciela studied the photograph of a soldier fighting off another solder - the grandfather - and smiled. "I can't imagine what it must be like meeting your ancestor, must have been something?"

"You would think so, right? But... I don't know. Felt empty somehow."

"You have to understand from your grandfather's perspective," Graciela turned to face him. "You just basically dumped his entire future on him. Might be a little shell-shocked."

"Yeah…"

"Just out of curiosity, what are you in this team?"

That question caught Nate off guard for a minute. "Um, well...like I said...I'm not exactly part of the team—"

"But what are you?" asked Graciela again, now more curious. "From what I got, Sara and Mick are criminals, um Jax and professor Stein are like...a burning man, Ray says he's got a suit somewhere...and you?"

"A historian," Nate answered with a wide smile that spelled out his embarrassment. "I actually helped rescue the team after Captain Hunter's accident."

"Ah, so then you do have value," Graciela playfully patted his arm. "I'll be sure to remember that if I do end up leading this team."

"You'd want me around?" Nate made a face, apparently surprised by this news.

"Girl who didn't really pay attention in history class," Graciela pointed at herself for a moment then pointed at him, "Actually, I never went to school so a Historian would be a perfect asset."

Nate glossed over the part of her missing school solely because they were brand new strangers. She didn't seem like the uneducated type because she certainly projected an air of knowledge. "Right," he nodded, and, by chance, reached for his neck only to realize his dog tags weren't there.

"What is it?" Graciela immediately noticed his nervousness.

"My grandfather's dog tags. They aren't around my neck."

"So?"

"So I haven't taken 'em off since I was a kid. They were here a minute ago, and now they've...vanished."

It didn't take two and two to know where they probably were. Nate rushed to the table where he had set his journal down.

"I get the feeling history is about to change…" Graciela slowly followed him to look at the journal as well.

"I'm reviewing my notes on the JSA and we have to go back to 1942."

"Um, Nate, the JSA was pretty explicit on us not going back to 1942."

"That mission the JSA went on to track down Baron Krieger in Paris, they're all gonna die there tomorrow."

And, of course, with that idea implanted, it was impossible to just leave things like that.

~ 0 ~

After careful consideration of how to infiltrate the JSA's mission, they settled for an easy poser plan. Stein was to play a favorite singer of Krieger - Max Lorenz - while the rest of the Legends scattered about in the underground speakeasy.

"No sign of Krieger or the JSA," Sara informed through the team's earpod system.

"Canvass the area and stay on the comms," Graciela then advised from another spot in the place.

"Think I got something," reported Ray as he spotted the dark-skinned woman in a fancy red dress, dancing with a man, "The lady with the animal powers. But she looks different."

"You mean hot," Jax corrected.

Ray rolled his eyes and made his way up to the woman. "May I?"

The woman frowned as her dancing partner walked away. "What are you doing? I'm on a covert mission."

Ray discreetly spoke as the two began a normal dance. "Not for long. You and your team are all 24 hours away from being killed."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm a time traveler, remember? Something changes in the future, and you all die."

"But if we do, how do you know it's not because of your team?"

Ray looked to the side as he considered that idea. "Hadn't thought of that." Without another word, he took her hand and led her back to the others. "Look who I found, and she's thrilled we've offered our help."

A middle-aged man walked up to Stein, along with another man at his side. "Herr Lorenz, I must introduce you to General Gerd von Rundstedt. He's a huge fan."

Stein cleared his throat, nervously answering, "Oh, lovely to meet you, General."

The other man, Gerd, eyed him suspiciously. "You are Max Lorenz? Lorenz is well over 6 feet tall."

"Ah. My towering voice often causes people to overestimate my height."

"Perhaps you will treat us to a song, Mr. Lorenz?"

Sara stepped in and moved to Stein's side. "Maxie has a concert tomorrow night and needs to rest his pipes."

"I insist, Fraulein. And, uh, please-" Gerd threw a look towards Jax, "-no Negro music."

As he walked away with the other man, Jax nearly lunged for him, "I sw…"

"Shhh," Graciela and Mick grabbed him back. "It wouldn't be worth it."

"It'd be a little worth it," Jax mumbled.

"Heads up. Baron Krieger just arrived," Nate informed as he watched the very man come in through the entrance doors.

Stein was forcibly brought up to the stage where he would, inevitably, sing a song for the audience. The others were nervous this would be the end of their undercover mission, but surprisingly Stein ended up singing a well to-do song. In the meantime, Nate had inched closer to where Krieger had sat down with another man, and when he listened in to what the plan was - an exchange of an ancient amulet - he announced it through the team earpods.

"Meaning it's time to go," Graciela looked at Sara, who instantly agreed. Sara turned towards the stage, signaling Stein to get off fast, before leaving herself.

Unfortunately, there was only time for a couple steps before a loud noise erupted from another side of the room. Ray had punched someone, starting a fight. Stein, still as Max Lorenz, was taken by German men to be protected in a separate room while the rest were left to fend for themselves. In the end, however, all went down along with the remainder of Germans as the JSA had finally arrived to put things to an end.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Steel demanded from all of them.

Stein slowly re-emerged from the room he'd been kept in and answered nervously, "We came back to...to rescue you."

"Worst team...ever," Graciela muttered as she rose to sit upright, cracking her neck.

"I don't exactly see you pulling your weight," Sara snapped. Graciela rolled her eyes and said nothing more.

~0~

The dark-skinned woman, now identified as Amaya, walked around the commanding table with mild interest. "If we're meant to be impressed by all this technology, it has the opposite effect. It only makes you that much more dangerous."

Ray tried not to look so offended by that. "Well, and there's evidence to support that, but I think what's important now is for all us to stop arguing."

"Does your team ever stop arguing?"

"Don't count me in this," Graciela was the last to come into the room, "I barely met them this morning."

"I think what we're all trying to say is we're gonna help you whether you like it or not," Sara nicely informed the other team. "You're going after Krieger. We know where he's going next."

"And given the laws of temporal mechanics, if you die, your grandson ceases to exist," Graciela felt it important to remind Steel. "They might be bumpy but if they had Rip as a Captain then they've had to learn something along the way."

"Well, I don't pretend to understand any of this time travel bunk, but these fellas do have a timeship," Steel looked at his members. "Might come in handy."

Amaya was still eyeing them like they were children in need of some care. "And having them as our back-up might be the only way to keep them out of trouble."

"Let's put it to a vote, then," Rex suggested and soon raised his hand, followed by the rest of his members...and the Legends. "The ayes have it."

"Did your reconnaissance at the club yield any usable intel?" Steel inquired.

Sara motioned to be followed into the side room. "Only to map the area."

"Bringing one online now," Gideon's voice startled Amaya.

"What was that?"

"AI. A talking computer."

"What's a computer?" Steel barely asked before Gideon pulled up the map on the screen.

"There. The Fontainebleau Forest," Sara out her hands together.

"Now, I saw a few of Krieger's men studying a map of it," Amaya walked up to it. "That must be where Krieger's planning on making the exchange."

"Nate overheard Krieger talking about making a trade for something called an Askaran Amulet," Sara explained.

"Hitler has long amassed ancient artifacts such as this one. He may want the amulet because it conveys some sort of occult power."

"Then we need to get moving," Sara said and was agreed upon.

"We should have both teams gear up while Dr. Stein and I finalize the details," Rex said, glancing at Stein who had remained in the bridge with the others. Sara rolled her eyes but never corrected him on who was the leader. Why bother?

~0~

"How are things with your grandfather?" Graciela was asking Nate as they walked down a ship corridor, en route to the bridge to finalize the plan.

"You know, I think he's avoiding me for some reason…" Nate shrugged, no more surprised.

"Shell shocked, I'm telling you," Graciela tried to excuse the behavior of the man. Her eyes narrowed on a blotch of blood on one of Nate's sleeves which still looked pretty fresh.

Nate followed her eyes to his arm and pretended to only just realize. "Oh, one of the Nazis at the club had a knife."

"Well, that should have stopped bleeding by now…"

"I'm just gonna get a new bandage…" Nate started a hastier walk away but Graciela called him back.

"To go with your bruise?" she innocently smiled. "I wasn't peeking or anything but...while we were in the changing room I saw a bruise - and a fresh one too."

"Well, you know how fragile we historians can be…"

Graciela turned her head sideways, her knowing smile gracing her lips. "I don't think this isn't fragility. I didn't go to school but trust me when I say I grew up learning alright. We don't have hemophiliacs in the 22nd century anymore but I remember what it is. Your blood doesn't clot, wounds can't heal, and if it's bad, you can bleed to death."

"Yeah, well," Nate wasn't sure what to say next, "you don't have to worry about that."

He tried walking away again but she hurried after him. "If I become leader you're damn right I'm gonna worry. You could've died tonight!"

"But I didn't. In fact, it was the opposite. I never felt more alive."

"What? So fighting is like...a thing now? Let me tell you that fighting has a lot more complexity than you think," snapped Graciela, displaying a burst of emotions she'd yet to showcase since her arrival. "I also know my fair share of fights."

Mate sighed and went to explain calmly this time. "When I was five years old, I cut my knee, and my mother wouldn't let me out of the house till I was 16. I'm a grown man. I can make my own decisions."

"I'm pretty sure it didn't cover time travel. I cannot let you go out there tomorrow, knowing that you could get killed."

"You're not a team leader yet," Nate reminded as a last resort.

"This isn't about being a team leader, it's about being mature and understanding one's limits." Graciela sighed, putting one hand to her forehead. "Look if you go out there I'm telling the rest about your condition."

"Childish," Nate spat. "Don't you think?"

"No, responsible," Graciela softly corrected before walking past him. "I try to do that now."

~0~

It wasn't difficult locating the lorys of the Germans coming in to do the exchange. While Professor Stein, Graciela, Nate and Jax stayed behind on the ship to commandeer, the others went out.

"We've spotted the Baron's caravan," they heard through the ship's comm.

"Then get to it," Graciela ordered suavely.

From their end all they could see was the team member's position. On the other end, fighting was ensuing.

They had taken on each of German soldiers while Ray and Amaya - who preferred to be called Vixen in the field - went in search for Krieger who'd taken off.

"The mission is the amulet," Stein reminded over the comm. but was responded by Steel.

"Our mission is Krieger!"

Graciela ungraciously groaned. "We don't have time for this. Ray, Vixen, go after Krieger now!"

However, Ray and Vixen were met with a monstrosity version of Krieger. He'd grown several feet high and with some muscles, resembling a gray version of the Hulk.

"What the hell was that?" Jax asked for everyone on the ship after hearing a loud roar.

"We're under attack. It's Krieger!" Ray frantically exclaimed. "He turned into a…" But he soon yelled and was no longer responsive. Even Vixen had disappeared after shouting they needed backup.

"Their comms. are down," Graciela busied herself with the table screen hoping to get some sort of response from the lost two.

~ 0 ~

With the team regrouped - both of them - the discussion of how to retrieve Ray and Amaya began.

"We have the amulet…" Obsidian remarked, holding the retrieved amulet in his gloved hand. "Now what?"

"Well, I thought keeping Ray and Amaya alive was the obvious priority," Graciela crossed her arms, coming to the conclusion that this was pretty much only the Legends' priority.

"Actually, our first priority is destroying the Baron and whatever serum is making him indestructible," came the conclusive response from Rex.

"Perhaps we could propose a trade?" Obsidian once again waved the amulet. "Their lives for the Amulet."

"Unfortunately, the amulet's not ours to barter with."

"We need an extraction plan, people," Sara sighed loudly.

However, Rex once again rejected the idea. "We need to eliminate the threat. Now, Professor Stein, please, tell us, what is your plan of action?"

"Okay," Graciela raised her hands in the air to stop them all from arguing. "We need to calm down and wait for your two members—" she pointed at Rex, "—to heal from the last fight and then think of what we can do."

"And who put you in charge?"

"Well," Graciela glanced back at the others, "You might be from 1942 but I am from 2166 meaning I have more than enough authority to outrank you. Care to work on a plan then?"

Because there was no time to waste, Rex agreed...but he did mumble something about not being a proper leader to Graciela. Taking out blueprints and maps and setting them on the side room table, the two teams gathered to come up with reasonable plans.

"...and we approach from the southwest, destroy the weapons lab and the Baron in one move," Rex finished his idea of a plan.

"Except for the last time we faced him, he took out both of our teams," Sara pointedly reminded; she was no where in the mood to face another monster.

"The last time, we weren't being backed by a squadron of B-17s."

"Wait," Graciela shook her head, "Then how do we get Ray and Amaya out before the bombs start falling?"

"We don't," Rex plainly answered.

Graciela took a moment to stare at him for any hint of a joke but when it didn't come she bluntly responded with, "I don't play that game."

"This conflict is bigger than any one of us!" Rex snapped. "If it means ending the war one day sooner, Amaya would happily make that sacrifice."

"There's no need for it," Graciela raised her voice to match his. "I will not have people sacrificing themselves willy-nilly, not anymore."

Sara tilted her head at those last two words. For the meantime, she wouldn't comment on it because of the sake of time...but she would bring it up later. "Listen," she took the conversation into another direction, "Neither of you know Ray like I do, and I know that he has a plan to get out of that bunker. We just need to give him time…"

"Which means giving the Nazis time," Rex rubbed his temples, beginning to get frustrated. "I'm calling in the strike."

"We can't let you do that," Graciea moved to where Sara stood. For once in that day, they were on the same page.

"You don't have the authority," Rex once again resorted to his default thought.

"Yes, she does," Sara straightened up, swinging one arm around Graciela's shoulders, causing the brunette to send her an odd look. They were definitely not on a touching basis either. "Because we elected her as our team leader and you gotta respect that."

"...well...I say we rescue the people," Graciela declared, still trying to overcome her surprise from Sara's action.

"And how do you suppose to do that?" Rex challenged, but Graciela had already been thinking about it and simply smirked.

~ 0 ~

Firestorm flew high in the air towards the German bunkers, shooting fire around it to cause a decent amount of chaos for the soldiers to get distracted with. Down on the ground, the others - save Graciela and Nate - took care of the incoming soldiers who got past the blasts.

"Mick!" Sara called as the man was nearing a potential blow from a soldier. However, someone else shot the opponent with a gun.

Mick turned around and saw Ray hurrying towards them, along with Amaya. "Thanks, Haircut." He then dug into his pocket and pulled out a small silver box containing Ray's miniaturized Atom suit. "I believe this belongs to you."

"Oh!" Ray took that with delight.

"If you're all done reuniting," came Graciela's voice over their ear pods, "May I remind you of the bombs heading your way?"

"For once I think she's right," Mick said to his other members before making a clean run for it.

"But Herr Krieger is here right now!" They heard Steel call from his spot. He was trying to shoot the now monstrous Krieger but the bullets proved to be useless as they were knocked down on the ground. Steel realized this wouldn't finish there so he rose up, "Come on, you Nazi bastard," he called and started running.

Krieger made a chase and followed him into the road. Bombs were beginning to fall and although there were many they hadn't yet caught either of them. Steel nearly fell on an abrupt stop when he heard engines nearing him.

"What are you doing here!?" he shouted at his future grandson who had somehow acquired a small motorcycle with a side passenger seat.

"Saving you!" Nate motioned him to get into the motorcycle. "Get on!"

Steel clambered inside and allowed Nate to go at full speed again. Krieger was hot on their trail with one arm repeatedly reaching for them. Nate pulled on the handles to hopefully earn more speed but that was not the case. Just when it seemed like Krieger was about to get them, a bomb dropped flat on him. Nate swerved into a stop and the two men glanced back to see Krieger down.

"He's dead," Steel breathed and had to laugh. "You did it. You saved us!"

But the two men barely had time to cheer when another bomb dropped on them as well. They were blasted apart, each falling unconscious onto the ground.

~ 0 ~

"I don't know whether to be mad or nervous," Graciela admitted as she, along with Sara and Steel, watched Gideon attempt to heal Nate's severe blood loss in the medbay.

"I'm afraid Mr. Heywood's vitals are dropping," Gideon announced a minute later.

"There's got to be something on board this tub to get him back on his feet. You people are from the future, for God's sake!" Steel had been controlling himself up until that moment.

"The bomb blast caused massive internal bleeding, and because his body lacks the normal clotting factor, there's only so much Gideon can do," Graciela explained in terms he would understand through his rage.

"How could you have let him out there like that?" Sara inquired not too much after.

"Me?" Graciela pointed at herself. "How could you have not checked that yourself before you came to meet me? Besides, I did warn Nate to stay here or I'd tell all of you and then bring him home. He doesn't listen...apparently," she gestured to Nate's current bloody self.

"So what do we do now?" Steel practically demanded from the two women, expecting an answer fast. He could see basic puddles of blood dripping from his grandson's body with each second that ticked by.

Suddenly, Ray burst into the room. "I think I can save him, with this!" he waved a tiny packet filled with bright blue liquid inside.

"Is that the Nazi serum that created that hideous berserker?" Graciela arched one eyebrow. "Are you mad? What am I saying - of course you are!"

Ray disregarded her as he went for the table with needles and other tools. "I did a little tinkering to the formula, so it should work…"

"You are not going to experiment on him!" Graciela's outburst made everyone quiet for a second. She realized her mistake and quickly stepped away. "We're not sure it could work," she spoke a minute later, much more calmer but Sara knew she was just faking it.

"It's his only chance," Ray said and moved to inject the serum into Nate's arm.

Sara moved over to the wall screen that showed the vitals of the man. "So what will it do now?"

"With any luck, save his life," Ray looked up to see how the vitals were doing on the screen.

"How do we know if it's working?" Steel asked.

"He's not dead yet, so that's a good sign," Graciela inched closer to where Sara stood by the screen. "And he's not turning into a Nazi berserker."

The screen beeped and so Sara leaned closer to read some of the updates. Her eyebrows raised upwards, clearly surprised. "His vitals are improving. He's stabilizing."

"I apologize then," Graciela said to Ray right afterwards who took the words with a sheepish smile. "And I will scold the hell out of him—" she threw a pointing thumb at the unconscious Nate, "—when he wakes up."

~ 0 ~

When all things were said and done, and the JSA finally took their way back to 1942, the Legends - except Nate - gathered in the main room as per call of Gideon on behalf of Graciela. When they arrived, the brunette woman was standing by the center table looking at something on its computer screen.

"You know you seem to know your way around here more than we did when we first arrived," Sara commented and crossed her arms, getting that suspicious eye again.

"Yeah but, she's from 2166 remember?" Ray said as it should have been obvious Graciela would have more knowledge than all of them.

Graciela shut off the screen on the table and raised her head to see the team. "I was looking at your profiles," she began to explain, despite the comment Sara had made. "I like knowing who's on my team and I must say I'm a bit perplexed as to why Rip chose you all."

"Hey—" Jax began in an offended tone when Graciela raised a hand to stop him.

"I meant I was only curious," she elaborated. "Rip was very picky when it came to forming relationships with people. I am not, honestly. What I am picky about, however, is how a team is to work. Because, ladies and gentlemen, this team does not work at 100% capacity."

"You said that already," Mick reminded.

"I did, and that's what I saw for most of the day. Miss Lance, our deal is up and my verdict is ready."

"Let us hear it," Sara put her hands behind her back, pretending to be oh-so-interested in the 'verdict' she already knew.

"This team is uncoordinated, unorganized, easily distracted by arguments, and frankly—" Graciela crossed her arms, "—you're all kinda rude." The Legends exchanged looks among each other and decided fairly quick she was probably right in all those aspects. "The last one isn't really a big problem. I am known to be that too but I am never unorganized."

"You have to understand," began Stein, "We are still trying to find ourselves without Rip here."

"No I get it," Graciela raised her hands in neutrality, "It's hard when you lose the team leader. And the fact that you're trying says a lot about who you are." She wasn't entirely sure what made Rip decide to bring these specific people on-board his precious ship. She didn't know how their relationship started but right now she was absolutely sure that they wanted nothing more than to bring back their Captain safe and sound. "I won't be helping from afar—I'll be here on the Waverider until we find Rip."

#ocappreciation #arrowverseocs #legends of tomorrow #lot #rip hunter #lot imagines #rip hunter imagines #legends of tomorrow imagines #lot fics #rip hunter fics #legends of tomorrow fics #sara lance #oc: Graciela Haynez #oc: the Jinx #fic: redemption #fd: legends of tomorrow #fd: lot

13 notes · View notes

thesunnyshow · 4 years

Text

Name: reya

Writing Blog URL(s): @chu-ni

Age: 19

Nationality: african-british

Languages: english, swahili, korean

Star Sign: libra

MBTI: enfp/entp (it always changes lol)

Favorite color: purple!

Favorite food: i really love chicken burgers

Favorite movie: princess and the frog

Favorite ice cream flavor: vanilla!!

Favorite animal: elephants

Go-to karaoke song: fancy - twice

Coffee or tea? What are you ordering? caramel frappe with whipped cream, in general i prefer tea though

Dream job (whether you have a job or not)? secretary general at the UN….or an author

If you could have one superpower, what would you choose? making anyone agree with me and do what i want them to do

If you could visit a historical era, which would you choose? ancient egypt!!

If you could restart your life, knowing what you do now, would you?.....no.

Would you rather fight 100 chicken-sized horses or one horse-sized chicken? neither if i could lmfao but i’d go for 100 chicken sized horses

If you were a trope in a teen high school movie, what would you have been? the nerd who’s actually really pretty after she gets a cool makeover

Do you believe in aliens/supernatural creatures? im not sure about aliens, but i definitely believe in ghosts and spirits.

What are some small things that make your day better? when i can have moments to myself to enjoy my own company. or when someone asks me what i want to eat and they bring it for me 🥺

Fun fact about yourself that not everyone would know? uhm…...probably the fact that i write fanfiction lol..but outside of that! i sing in the shower. and i talk to myself a lot.

What fandom(s) do you write for? nct dream currently, but in the future i want to expand to other groups!

When did you post your first piece? 17th of June 2018.

Do you write fluff/angst/crack/general/smut, combo, etc? Why? i can never write just one genre. predominantly i write fluff with a dash of angst for spice simply because i love a story that has an issue and then having that issue be resolved for a happy ending. when i started my blog i was 17, and so i said i wouldn't write smut. now that i'm older im feeling more and more comfortable writing suggestive content at the very LEAST.. so maybe in the future i might write smut, who knows? i like writing fluff because i like making people feel good, but i like adding angst to it because i feel like the contrast between the two is very *chefs kiss* to me.

Do you write OCs, X Readers, Ships...etc? i only write x readers!

Why did you decide to write for Tumblr? i first got tumblr when i was 13 years old and i was a fresh kpop fan lmfao. i wanted somewhere that shared my interests. of course i discovered x reader fics on here and i was in awe, i guess of how much power writers had in contributing to fandom content and keeping readers satiated. i’d always loved to write and so i’d always wanted to start my own writing blog, and for 2 years i did write for other blogs! it wasnt until 2018 that i finally took the leap and decided to start my own, because i wanted to impact people's emotions and take them on a journey through my writing.

What inspires you to write? what inspires me….teen movies, music!! music is a big one for me, and also the books that i read. i also grew up playing otome games so the plots and writing from those influence my writing a lot.

What genres/AUs do you enjoy writing the most? i really enjoy writing royalty!aus as well as exes!aus. i love to do them cause they require me to build a world and with royalty aus specifically i love weaving together bits of political intrigue, or arranged marriages, etc. its so much fun!!

What do you hope your readers take away from your work? that if this world is too rough or too much, you can always escape from it. it might not be physical, but immersing yourself in a universe that's entirely different for a little while can help soothe you.

What do you do when you hit a rough spot creatively? usually i try and take breaks. the problem with that is that my breaks can go on for longer than i’d like and im trying to fix that. so my other solution is to read read read!! read as much as i can, or go back to books that i loved. ask myself what i liked about the writing, what are some parts that i thought were amazing examples of good writing - i note them down then see if i can apply that to my own work. another thing i do is take a break from writing my longer, fleshed out works and write blurbs! blurbs are a great way for me to write but not feel like its tedious because i don't have to spend as much time on them and it gets me into the groove of writing without feeling stressed out.

What is your favorite work and why? Your most successful? my favourite piece of work is miscommunication. it took me months to write that, even after i lost all the work halfway through, and its the longest piece of work i have written so far, so its kinda like my baby. my most successful is candy jar. its also the work i owe my blog exposure to - it was the first piece i published, and it was also the first piece of writing i did in around 4 years.

Who is your favorite person to write about? i don't have much out for them, but i really enjoy exploring mark’s and jeno’s characters. they're people, but in my work i enjoy analysing them and judging how they’d act in different contexts.

Do you think there’s a difference between writing fanfiction vs. completely original prose? the only difference for me is that fanfiction (depending on the fandom) has some of the stuff fleshed out for you already, such as the world its in. if youre the type to write AUs then the only thing you already have is the characters - the planning, the writing, the drafting, and everything else is still the writer's responsibility. therefore there isn't much of a difference between the two for me.

What do you think makes a good story? a good story, to me, is one that takes me on a journey. it could be any genre, but i like to feel immersed and connected to the characters and the world in it. also aside from the obvious, like good grammar, a good story feels natural to read. i don't feel like skim reading half of it.

What is your writing process like? my writing process consists of me getting inspiration - usually from a song, or a film or a book ive read or a game ive played - i note down my idea and who i want the story to be about, and then bullet point the whole story, with some snippets of particular dialogue i want the reader or the other person to say at certain scenes. i then open another document ( i have a writing app on my phone, called werdsmith, so i use that!) and set a word count goal i want to hit so i can track my progress and start writing the fic, with fleshed out language and exposition. when im done (usually after a couple weeks up to a few months, depends on the length of the plan) i read through it to fix any mistakes, then i transfer it to docs so i can read it again and italicise any areas i feel need it.

Would you ever repurpose a fic into a completely original story? i...don't think so. mainly because the original fiction i read and would like to write for myself is predominantly fantasy, whereas the fanfic i write on my blog is usually non-idol, normal fics.

What tropes do you love, and what tropes can’t you stand? im a SUCKER for enemies to lovers, royalty ofc, “and they were roommates”, and i think superhero aus are really cool but there isnt enough of them :( idol/you as member aus....not feeling her… also abo/werewolf/vampire aus….not feelin em

How much would you say audience feedback/engagement means to you? a LOT. a HUGE amount!! i said before how i like giving my readers somewhere where they can immerse themselves as an escape, even for a short while. hearing about how my work affected them, made them feel, makes me feel less insecure about what im writing and thus more confident to publish it.

What has been one of the biggest factors of your success (of any size)? i’d say reblogs. and also putting out more content. when i first uploaded candy jar i went to my one of my favourite writers (jaeminlore) and asked her if she'd be okay with reading it and giving feedback. to my surprise she loved it and her reblogging it to all her followers is literally what gave me a bunch of followers all of a sudden who loved what i’d written. to keep that momentum i created more and more content, and while i haven't uploaded as often as i've wanted to or written as much as i’d wanted to, i can say i have a good amount of work on my masterlist for people who are looking for more to read.

Do you think fanfic writers get unfairly judged? 100%. fanfic has an unfair reputation for just having bad writing and cringey fics (and i feel like this is because of the way society views the demographics who predominantly consume and create it), when in reality i feel like those who write fanfiction are extremely talented and selfless people. they're on the internet creating content for free for people to enjoy and like any other work of art they're putting time and effort into it. i think it should be respected. any form of art is going to have its good and bad sides.

Do you think art can be a medium for change? hmmm….yes. i feel it can be a way to reflect the thoughts of people and also be a way to inspire people to do more.

Do you ever feel there are times when you’re writing for others, rather than yourself? sometimes. sometimes i feel like i'm forcing myself to write because i feel like if i don't then people will forget about me or they’ll forget about my blog. while what i choose to write about is for me, i feel like the speed of my writing and what im writing isn't to the quality i want it to be cause i feel like i gotta get it out for people to read.

Do you ever feel like people have misunderstood you or your writing at times? i've never felt that way!

Do your offline friends/loved ones know you write for Tumblr? only 2 of my friends know, and i only told them like. a week ago!

What is one thing you wish you could tell your followers? i wish you guys would message me more! i'm quite a sociable person, and i’d love to have regular anons who talk to me 👉🏽👈🏽

Do you have any advice for aspiring writers who might be too scared to put themselves out there? i think one common thing amongst all writers is that we write what we want to read. so don't feel like nobody's gonna read your work, cause somebody will. you gotta act like your work is top tier even if someone says it isn't - always write the best you can, and just do it! like don't even give yourself time to overthink it, write that fic, make it look pretty, upload it onto tumblr and do not be afraid to ask your favourite fic writers to read your work once its up!! i’d be happy to read and give feedback for any fic writers as well so don't feel afraid!

Are there any times when you regret joining Tumblr? ive been on here for 7 years….i grew up on this site lmfao. but i don't think i regret joining tumblr once.

Do you have any mutuals who have been particularly formative/supportive in your Tumblr journey? shes not very active anymore and i miss her very much but user hyuck-s was so supportive and i love her!!

Pick a quote to end your interview with:

she believed she could, so she did.

BONUS ROUND: K-POP CONFIDENTIAL

#@chu-ni #thesunnyshow #featuredauthor #episode 32 #nct dream

4 notes · View notes

fanfic-scribbles · 5 years

Text

Lunch Buddy: Chapter Nine

Masterlist

<<Previous Chapter Next Chapter>>

Overall Story Facts:

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Story Summary: Steve Rogers makes a friend. A prickly, generally people-averse friend, but they’ll both take what they can get.

Quick Facts: Friendship (/Eventual Romance) – Steve Rogers & Reader (leading to Steve Rogers/Reader) – Female Reader

Story Warnings: Reader-insert that verges on OFC, written in 1st person past tense

Chapter 9: Drunk Buddy

Chapter Summary: Emotions suck. But it’s nice to have someone willing to stick around despite them.

Chapter Word Count: 3370

A/N: Warning for intentional typos, drunkenness, POV being slightly down/self-deprecating in parts. I wish I had more to say but uh, new Fire Emblem game is really good and all my braincells are going towards romancing and teaching and stabbing. Please enjoy!

I was drunk. Just the right amount– I felt pretty pleasant, light and comfortable, but I wasn’t out of it. Or so I thought, until I stumbled outside and suddenly I couldn’t, for the life of me, remember how I had decided I was going to get home.

Oops.

My phone buzzed and I displayed excellent dexterity by catching it just as it slipped out of my hand. So I wasn’t that drunk and I would remember…eventually. After a brief dip into whatever nonsense Steve was sending me in the middle of the night.

Steve: Help Steve: I need a good excuse to leave a party

I bit down on my lip to keep from laughing.

Me: Does anything need saaving? Steve: It’s Tony’s party Me: Hmmmm

I tried to think, but it was hard.

Me: Sorry Steve: It’s okay Steve: What are you up to? Me: Just leaving club Me: Stopping to try to rememember Me: How I was going to get home tonight Me: I think subw Me: ay? Me: But Me: Wait Me: Wht time is it?

I squinted at the clock. Okay, slightly-more-than-midnight.

Me: Okay guess i’m not Me: doing that Steve: You were going to take the subway Steve: At this time of night Steve: While drunk?

I stuck out my tongue.

Me: Stop it Me: I can feel the look you’re making Me: Also I dint know it was so late Me: Also also: I’m not as drunk as I look in texting. A little yes but i’m more lazy than out of it Steve: Regardless Steve: Do you need a ride home?

I smirked.

Me: I guess if I can’t think of an excuse I can be one Steve: Exactly!

That was nice. I hadn’t seen him in a few days. I missed him.

Me: Ooooooooo Me: Are you hungry? Me: There’s a dumb trendy pizza place Me: That’ll probably close within a couple months Me: But it’s actually really tasty Me: Wanna meet? Me: There? Steve: I’d rather make sure you stay safe Me: It’s like a block away Me: Or smth

I made an executive decision and sent him the name of the place and the one street name I could remember.

Me: I’ll save us a table, pls don’t come in a suit Steve: It’s a little dressy for a pizza date Me: And I look cute for once Me: You will not Me: outdress me Steve: Noted Steve: Should I wear my workout gear?

I failed to see how that would make me look decent by comparison.

Me: Stop texting and get ready Me: Or unready Me: Whatever Steve: I can multitask

Wait a minute.

Me: Are you on your way????

He did not respond. I started walking. However for me, at the moment, multitasking was a touch more difficult.

Me: You are such a dick Me: I’ll see you there Steve: Wait! Steve: I’m almost there!

When my fingers failed to hit the right buttons thanks to righteous indignation and adrenaline, I stopped again.

Me: I didn’t say I was on the same street

“It’s not hard to narrow it down.”

I jumped and my phone flew into the air. I tried to reach for it but a hand came from over and behind me and caught it before it could be dashed against the unforgiving concrete. I held my chest while my heart recovered and I turned to give Steve the dirtiest look I could muster.

“Sorry,” he said. Smiling.

“You have never been sorry for anything in your life ever,” I said and put my phone in my purse. “How did you get here so fast?”

“Well, I was close,” he said. His hair looked good and he smelled nice, but he otherwise wore his standard jacket and jeans. “Also, your texting is…really slowed down.”

“Hm.” I really didn’t think I was that drunk so much as he was just that desperate to get out of an uncomfortable social situation, but I could sympathize with that to extremes so I didn’t push it. “Come on; I need food.”

“To soak up the alcohol?”

I dragged him by his jacket sleeve. Except, when we were just about there I realized I was less ‘dragging’ and more ‘leaning on’ him. I felt the creeping tendrils of ‘shit, this is a bad idea,’ but it felt like it was too late. It was too late and I didn’t want to tell him to fuck off because I suddenly couldn’t deal. If I was sober enough to realize the ways this night could go poorly, then I was sober enough to deal with it. I hoped.

“Are you going to be sick?” Steve asked and put his hand on my back. It should have been a nice, centering, kind thing, but at the moment it just felt heavy.

“Nope; just thinking about what I’m going to order,” I said and slipped away from him to get the door. He was quicker, though, and pulled it open for me from over my head just as I went for the handle. That made it slip out of my hand and I fell forward a bit, but I caught myself rather well, in my own opinion. I shot him a dirty look and he shrugged with a sheepish smile. Since he was apologetic, at least, I went forward to stand in line.

The place was fairly busy for what time it was, but I wasn’t the only drunk person there. Nor was I the drunkest, which was nice, though they were annoyingly loud, which sucked. I focused on the menu, and scanned it for things Steve might like. “Do you trust me?” I asked and looked at him.

He was frowning at the board and his “Mostly?” was the most unconvincing thing I’d ever heard.

The look on his face made me smile. “Let me guess: you’ve never had pizza outside of pepperoni or plain cheese?”

“And supreme,” was his defense. But I could understand; some of the pizza toppings here were just plain weird, to the point where even I hadn’t yet tried them.

“Okay, hear me out,” I said. “The pizzas aren’t personal but they also aren’t that big, so I’m going to order four that I know I like and that I think you’ll like, and then we’ll get one ‘Boring’ for you to snack on just in case. Sound good?”

He nodded but looked at me with some exasperation. “You got something against just cheese and pepperoni?”

I didn’t even try to hide my glee at I pointed to the area on the menu where it listed, in a wholly appropriate font, ‘Boring.’ It was just a typical cheese pizza but Steve’s look of annoyance was worth everything. Suddenly, inviting him out was a great idea– the best I’d ever had.

“Do you secretly own this place?” he asked as we waited for the gaggle in front of us to grab their cups and go.

“If I owned a pizza place I’d be bankrupt and easily mistaken for a parade float,” I said and stepped forward to order. I got my wallet open as I spoke but when I finished telling the cashier what I wanted, Steve still managed to hold his card out before me.

“Hey; you paid last time,” I said.

“And I can pay thi–”

He jolted when I smacked his hand and his card flew to the floor. I gave the bewildered woman my card before he could recover. “I give the better tip,” I said as she swiped it.

“That’s a lie,” he said as he came back up.

I shrugged and pointed at the tip jar. “Put up or shut up.”

He looked right at me while he opened up his wallet and counted out one twenty, and another, and…

My eyes widened at the end amount he dumped in the jar and when I stole a look at the girl behind the register she was straight up gawking. “You’re such a fucking show-off,” I said and signed the receipt (after adding my suddenly-so-much-less-impressive tip).

“I am so okay with that,” she blurted out.

I laughed as he ducked his head and stole away with the number and his cup. “Sorry; I concede defeat,” I told her.

“Yeah, no problem,” she said like she didn’t even hear me and she stared at the tip jar even as I went to get my drink. Then I joined Steve in the corner, where he fidgeted while we waited. When we got the pizzas and I dished out some slices, he didn’t look upon them any more kindly than he had the descriptions.

“Here,” I said and pushed one of the plates over to him. Then I stacked the boxes so the plain one was at the bottom. “Try these first. If you don’t like them then you can have the cheese all to yourself.”

He sighed and looked at each piece. “It seems like such a possible waste. What if I can’t do more than one bite?”

I rolled my eyes. “Then I’ll cut off where your icky diseased lips touched and eat it myself. Fuck, man, weren't you in the army?”

He ducked his head but he was smiling. “Sorry; you’re right, this isn’t any worse than–”

“Eat or die,” I said and threw a packet of parmesan at his face.

Thankfully he knew better than to test the strength of even a lightly-drunk woman’s stomach and he ate. And if the noise of surprise he made didn’t show how he felt about the food, the way he plowed through the rest of it clearly did. I managed to snake a few more pieces and I was still getting through them when he neared the end of his.

And yet in between inhales he still found the time to be really annoying.

“So, tonight…did you go with a date?”

There were a lot of things I could have said to that, but all of them were terrible, and none of them made me feel better, so I shook my head. “Just by myself; to get out.” He was staring at me, and I wanted him to stop. “I’ve been a little…down, I guess.”

“Hm,” he said, not stopping his steady look. “Is that why you’ve looked like you’re about to cry all week?”

I shrugged and took a bite. It was still good, but my throat had closed up, so I had to chew for a while. Steve stared at me until I swallowed. “What?” I said.

“I can be patient,” he said, smiling slightly, like this was a light thing.

I tried to act like it was. I rolled my eyes. “Keep holding your breath and I’m gonna eat your pizza.”

He relented then, thank goodness, and chowed down on the last of the food in front of him. When he sat back then, it was a lot more natural. “I can’t believe I let you pay for all that and I ate most of it,” he said.

I snorted and kept picking at my last piece. As much as I wanted to finish, my stomach wanted me to curl up in bed and forget it existed for a while. “If you admit I was right I’ll consider it paid in full.”

“You were right; that was delicious,” he said. He looked me over. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay. Sleepy,” I said and stopped playing with my food. “Do you want this? I only took a little bit.”

“Well, I guess so. Since I was in the army and all.” He took the slice and smiled mischievously at me.

“You think you can handle my poison lips?” I asked.

“For good pizza, it’s a risk I’m willing to take,” he said, so fucking deadly serious that I fell apart into helpless laughter. Then he took a bite and his eyes bulged and he grabbed his throat and my heart skipped several beats. I was almost out of my chair to try and give him the Heimlich when I realized the bastard was just playing and I punched his shoulder hard enough to hurt. Well, me, but at least he must have felt it.

“You're an asshole,” I grumbled and shook out my hand.

He swallowed and took a moment to laugh. “I can’t wait to tell Sam. He says I can’t act to save my life.”

“I don’t think it’s real brag-worthy to get one over on a drunk girl,” I muttered and rested my head on my arms.

He turned serious all of a sudden. “Shit, I forgot–” He dug through his little backpack and pulled out painkillers and a bottle of water like a proud kid showing off his potato lamp at a science fair. “I’m sorry; I can’t believe I almost forgot these.”

“You brought this for me?” I asked. I opened the pill bottle and it still had the foil and cotton, and the water bottle seal was still uncracked. He hadn’t just brought it for me, he had bought it for me. That was…so sweet, and while I took a couple of pills and drank some of the water, he cleaned up the table.

“Come on.” He held out his hand. “I’ll take you home.”

The journey was a little fuzzy. All I could think about was that he had known I was drunk and instead of taking that as a sign to stay at his boring party, he’d left to hang out. With me. And instead of just dumping me in a cab after it all, he was coming with me. To make sure I got home safe. Because he cared that much.

Familiar melancholy rose back up in me like frothing bile, and as he helped me into my apartment I felt like I was going to burst. “Th-thank you,” I said. “I can’t– I can’t believe you brought me home.”

“I’m just doing what a friend does,” he said as he helped me to my room.

“Thank you. You're a good friend,” I said as I sat down and shut my eyes. It was going to hurt so bad when he eventually got sick of me. But it was okay. I had to make sure he knew it was okay. “I’m gonna– I’m gonna miss you when you go.”

He stopped whatever he was doing at the side table, and weight settled on the bed next to me. “When I go tonight?”

“When you get tired of me, and go,” I said and leaned my head against my pillow. I sighed. It was so much comfier.

“Why do you think I’m going to do that?” he asked quietly.

“It’s okay,” I said, because he sounded hurt. “Everyone does. It’s me; I’m…I’m no good. I’m bad at staying in touch; I flake out if I can’t handle shit. I say the wrong things. I’ve had good friends but I’ve never been one. So it’s– it’s okay. When you want to go, just know it’s oka–”

I woke up with distant dreams of fluffy pancakes, a minor headache, and a vague feeling of unease. I shut my eyes tight and loosened up when that just hurt. Why did I feel so weird? I had been a little miserable and so I had gone out. I’d gotten a little drunk. I’d texted Ste– oh no. But, wait, no, it wasn’t that bad. We had hung out, had dinner, and I’d come home. He had helped me home. And then…

I sat up and wanted to vomit for reasons other than a hangover. Because I had basically done that to Steve the night before, only worse. Normal vomit you could clean up, but what could you do about emotional vo–

Okay. I pinched the bridge of my nose. I really needed to stop thinking about being sick or I was going to get real literal about it. I took a deep breath, got out of bed, and shuffled towards my door. Physically I wasn’t actually so bad off– thanks Steve– but mentally I was spiraling– thanks Steve.

No. I gripped my head. No, that wasn’t fair; I was the one in a bad place and made it Steve’s problem. Shit. I didn’t know if this was something he would be willing to pretend never happened or if this was the beginning of the end.

I took a few seconds to control my breathing and beat back the tears. One thing at a time. First: coffee. And painkillers. And maybe some pancakes. Then I could text Steve and apologize and…go from there. Whatever that meant.

When I stepped out of my room though I lost my breath entirely.

Steve. Was on my couch. Sleeping.

Steve was sleeping on my couch.

I flailed like a weirdo and forced some control while my body wanted to flee my own damn home. What had I said that he felt he had to stay? That was worrisome, but…whatever was happening, a: I had no clue, and b: he still deserved an apology. So I went about The Plan, but I made a pot of coffee and decided to dump all the blueberry pancake mix I had into my biggest bowl.

I was getting the batter just right when I heard the couch springs shift. I put all my focus into making sure the powder-to-milk ratio was perfect and then started stirring. It was very quiet, so I took a quick peek and saw him standing right behind me. “Oh. Hey.” I faced forward and started stirring in earnest. “I was dreaming about pancakes, so I hope you like ‘em. You look like a guy who can eat a lot of pancakes; I’m–”

Steve draped his arms over my shoulders in the most relaxed hug ever. Inexplicably, my head actually felt better. “How’s the hangover?” he asked.

“Uh…” I took stock. “Not bad.” I didn’t know what to say. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

If he wanted to pretend it never happened, that was one thing, but this question was not that, and I peered over my shoulder to squint at him. “Do I have to say it?”

He stood up and shrugged. “I don’t know what you have to apologize for.”

“Puking emotion all over you?”

“That’s…evocative,” he said, wincing momentarily. “And I’m pretty sure I puked emotion all over you first.” He gave me a look with meaning. Man I hated those. “Closeted bi besties, remember?”

“What’s going to happen when you’re not closeted anymore?”

He looked like he was thinking about it. “Disaster bi besties?”

“You need to get off the internet,” I said. “But…accurate.”

“Are we okay?” he asked earnestly.

“I hope so,” I said, just as sincere.

He smiled and smoothed down his few fly-aways. “Sorry,” he said and glanced up like he could glare his hair into behaving.

I couldn’t help myself. “Oh thank God,” I said. “You were so hideous before; now I can actually look at you.”

He snorted. “You don’t share your feelings often, do you?”

“Did the teeth chattering give it away?”

“Knee-knocking, actually.” He leaned back against the counter. “So…are there going to be pancakes this year, or should we go out?”

My jaw dropped and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Asshole,” I said and buttered up a pan. “I did not mix a whole box of my best stuff for you to abandon me for IHOP. You're going to eat these pancakes or else.”

“Or else what?” he asked as I ladled some batter in.

“Or else you get no coffee,” I said and pointed at the pot. He made a sound like he quietly suffered an injury and went to pour himself a cup in the mug I had set out for him. I sipped my own while I made breakfast and smiled sweetly in return for the glare he aimed at me. As I made a breakfast for me and a human trash compactor, my headache started lifting really fast, and my body settled into a relaxed feeling suitable for a Sunday morning. Thank god for coffee.

And Steve Rogers was pretty okay too.

<<Previous Chapter Next Chapter>>

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers & reader #captain america fanfic #avengers fanfic #reader insert #lunch buddy

114 notes · View notes

hunnywrites · 5 years

Photo

Arcade Dreams: Chapter Fourteen

Summary: There’s a new girl working at the Palace Arcade and Hawkins’ Family Video. Billy can’t stand her, and the feeling is mutual. No matter what everyone else seems to think.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove/OFC

A/N: Alright so it turns out writing about Billy having feelings other than angst is pretty tough. But you know, we’re finally making progress on the romance front. Enjoy!

Teddi ended up chickening out over calling about the apartment. It had been about a week or so since Hopper had come into the video store, and the idea of living off on her own was still constantly on her mind. If only she could just make herself call. Instead she could only trace the phone number that she had written on the back of one of her notebooks. She hadn’t brought it up with Billy either. He would’ve been supportive of the idea, Teddi knew he would. She didn’t have any siblings to worry about like he did. No strings tying her to her family. And she could already practically hear him joking about her apartment being the new party spot. Like she’d let that happen. But there was this part of her that worried that he might think the whole thing was stupid. That he might tell her she was running from her problems or being a baby. So for now she would keep it to herself.

Now Teddi was in the library during her free period, mindlessly tracing that same phone number as she chewed on her lip. Initially she’d decided to use her free period to finish up on some homework before she had to go to work, but her mind was much, much too busy to focus on any math homework she had. In fact, she was so spaced out that she didn’t even notice that someone was walking up behind her.

“What’s that?” Teddi jumped at the sound of Steve’s voice.

She held a hand to her chest, glaring up at him as he pulled the seat across from her out and plopped down. “It’s nothing.” she said a little too quickly.

Steve raised an eyebrow. “...That definitely doesn’t sound suspicious,” he grinned. “Come on, Ted. It’s me, Steve, you can tell me. You got a boyfriend you’re keeping a secret or something?”

Teddi rolled her eyes. “Nothing so scandalous,” she joked. She supposed there was no real harm in telling Steve. He was a much more impartial party compared to Billy. “...You know that apartment building you told me about at the New Year’s party? The one out by the steel mill? I’ve kinda been thinking of moving there. Like getting out on my own and all.” she eyed Steve nervously while she waited for his reaction.

“Pfft, I sure wish I could move out,” was all he said. “My old man’s constantly down my neck about what I’m gonna do after school. Like I’m supposed to have any idea.” he scoffed.

Teddi let out a small breath of relief and smiled. “You don’t have any colleges lined up?”

“Uh, well I was trying to pick out a few to apply to...but then I couldn’t really decide on any...and then I kinda missed all the deadlines to apply,” he nodded, flashing a sheepish grin. “What about you? I mean, you’ve gotta have schools trying to kick down your door, right?”

College. That was another subject that Teddi wanted to avoid. She’d been busting her ass working two jobs and making sure her grades were nothing short of amazing so that she could make sure to get into a good school...but there wasn’t really anything she dreaded more. And she was completely aware that it didn’t make a lick of sense. “Well, actually I got into NYU which was like...my dream school...but I don’t really know if I’m gonna go if I’m completely honest.”

Steve’s eyebrows shot upwards and he grinned. “Wait, what? Teddi, that’s amazing! Why wouldn’t you want to go there? I’m pretty sure Johnathan Byers would kill you just to take your place.”

Teddi let out a snort before shrugging. “I don’t know...I know it sounds dumb. Trust me. I’ve just been wondering lately if I actually want to go to college or if I’m just doing it because it’s what people our age are supposed to do, you know? Or if it’s just like an excuse for me to get out on my own. And I feel like I finally have actual friends here now and I’m up and leaving. It kinda bums me out.” there was also the added fact that she had absolutely no idea what she would major in. She didn’t like admitting to people that her life wasn’t as put together as they might think.

Steve shot Teddi a knowing look before leaning forwards. “Please tell me this isn’t about Billy Hargrove.”

Teddi scoffed, sinking down in her seat. “Oh please, Steve.” sure Billy was part of it. Of course he was part of it. Teddi was as close with Billy as she was with Steve, maybe even more so now. Which was ironic since they had been sort of mortal enemies, but it wasn’t solely about him.

“What’s the deal with him anyways? You can’t honestly be falling for this whole ‘nice guy’ act he’s been pulling lately, can you?” Teddi could definitely understand Steve’s skepticism. After all, he was the guy that Billy had beaten unconscious just four months ago. At the same time though Teddi had a hard time imagining that the Billy she knew now could ever do something like that.

“Look, I know that he’s not exactly Mr. Rogers,” Teddi said. Steve let out a snort. “But he’s really a lot different now. It’s like a 180...well, maybe more like a 150. We’re not completely there yet. I think if you two can get over your weird alpha male thing you have going you could probably even be friends,” Steve only shot her a disbelieving look. “If I can be friends with him then so can you. You’re friends with Johnathan Byers now, aren’t you?”

Steve held up his hands. “Yeah, yeah. Look, I’ll take your word for it. I mean I don’t think me and him are gonna be hanging out any time soon...I just want you to be careful. If Billy really is trying to not be such a shit head then great. But just...keep an eye out.”

Teddi would be lying if she said she didn’t have her own reservations about Billy’s behavior. There was this tiny part of her that wondered if maybe it was all some sort of an act. Like Billy might be pretending to be a genuinely nice guy to get in her pants. But she always brushed it off. She wanted to have more faith in him than that. And she definitely wasn’t going to voice her paranoia out loud. “Yes, mother hen.” was all she said instead, grinning at Steve.

Steve rolled his eyes. “Cute. Really cute. Hey, do you have the notes from history?”

“You mean you didn’t take any?” Teddi asked with a smile as she started to search through her backpack for her notes.

“...Oh, totally. I just wanted to compare them with mine.”

Teddi let out a snort. “Uh-huh...shit. I don’t have my binder. I think I left it in my gym locker. I’ll be right back, okay?” Steve threw her a thumbs up before Teddi rushed out of the library.

---

Billy usually liked to spend his free period in the gym. It always got quiet after gym class ended, and maybe aside from a few girls that liked to sit on the bleachers while he practiced his free throws no one really bothered him. Teddi had asked if he wanted to join her in the library while she finished up some homework. He’d said that he’d rather chew off his own foot than voluntarily step foot in the school library.

There was also the fact that there was something that was bothering her and she actually seemed to think she could hide it from him. Teddi was somewhat of a shitty liar. Or at least he was really good at seeing through it when she lied. He wasn’t really sure which it was. Probably the latter. The bigger issue was that he had asked if there was something going on and she kept lying. So he had dropped the issue. But he also definitely didn’t want to sit around for a whole hour while she dodged his questions and acted like everything was perfect and told him to stop being so pouty.

“Billy!” someone called just as he gracefully tossed the basketball into the basket. Billy turned, trying his very hardest not to roll his eyes when he spotted Cheryl leaning up against the bleachers. The small group of girls sitting a few feet away didn’t bother to hide the dirty looks they were shooting in her direction.

He had been trying to avoid her for the last week or so. Teddi had been right; Cheryl Burns made him downright miserable. But ignoring a girl like Cheryl was proving to be pretty difficult. She didn’t really like to take no for an answer. Which he found pretty annoying. Just two days ago he had turned her down for a night out at the drive in, and yet there she was wagging those long, red nails at him beckoning him over like it had never happened.

Billy let out a soft huff and jogged over to her, nodding once at her. He wasn’t going to try and charm her like he did with every other girl he spoke to. It would just give her the wrong idea. Cheryl bit her bottom lip, smiling up at him as she batted her eyelashes at him. “You busy?” she asked, tilting her head to the side. Her hands rested just barely at his sides.

Billy looked at her and back out to the basketball court. “...What does it look like to you, Cheryl?”

She playfully rolled her eyes. “I need to talk to you for a sec.” she reached out and took one of Billy’s hands in hers and pulled him towards her.

He pulled away. “Can we do this some other time? Like I said, I’m busy.”

Cheryl definitely wasn’t the sort of girl that got turned down often. Billy wouldn’t really be surprised to find out he was the first to do so. There was a moment where the sweet, seductive look Cheryl was giving him turned into one of annoyance and he hoped that it meant she would throw a fit and stomp out of the gym and leave him alone.

He wasn’t so lucky. “And I said that I need to talk to you.” she nearly spat through her teeth.

Billy rolled his eyes. “Fine. Talk.”

The seductive smile was back just as fast as it had disappeared. Cheryl happily took his hand in hers once again and pulled him out of the gym and into the hall. Whatever it was that she had to say, she clearly didn’t want to do it in front of an audience. She lead him two doors down to the girl’s locker room. Cheryl did a quick scan of the room to make sure they were alone before she spun around, giving Billy a soft shove against a row of one of the lockers and kissing him roughly.

Billy’s hands instinctively went to Cheryl’s waist before his conscience (which he was annoyed to realize seemed to sound a lot like Teddi’s voice) told him to stop. His hands moved to Cheryl’s shoulders and he pushed her away gently. He smirked down at her, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you said you wanted to talk?”

Cheryl blinked up at him innocently, or as innocently as a girl like Cheryl could manage, and ran her hands down his bare chest before resting on his stomach. “Did I say that?” she all but giggled. Billy supposed he should have seen this coming. It was definitely a trick he would try to pull. He knew that he needed to get out before he did something he’d regret later. He was pissed at Cheryl. He didn’t even like Cheryl. So why was he sticking around? Christ, he thought, don’t pull on that thread.

“Cheryl, if you want someone to fool around with how ‘bout you go find that moron Brian Jean?” he asked with an expectant look. After Christmas break ended Billy had offered to kick the shit out Brian for ditching Teddi to hook up with Cheryl at David’s party. Teddi had practically forbidden him, but that didn’t mean Billy wasn’t allowed to fuck with him. And he definitely hadn’t missed the pleased look on Teddi’s face a few days earlier when Billy “accidentally” happened to brush his keys down the entire side of Brian’s shitty little Chevette.

Cheryl rolled her eyes. “Are you honestly still mad about that? That was forever ago, Billy. I didn’t even think you’d care,” Yeah, that’s the problem, he thought with a scoff. Cheryl hands snaked around his neck, pulling him down closer to her. “Come on, Billy, let me make it up to you.” she purred. Billy liked to think of himself as a strong guy. That he wasn’t swayed easily no matter what the situation was. But as annoying as he found Cheryl Burns, there was something about her that seemed to short circuit his brain. The shorter, more simple answer was that it was probably because she looked like the girls in his Playboys.

Everything after that was sort of a blur. He wasn’t sure how long he had been there with Cheryl. The bell hadn’t rung yet. That was really all he was able to discern. Billy had turned the pair of them around, pushing Cheryl’s back up against the lockers. His hands had a firm grip on her ass while her hands were tangled in his hair, her long tails scratching gently at his scalp. He hadn’t really thought much of the situation until he heard the locker room door open and a very familiar voice say “Oh, jeez. Sorry. Jeez. Uh I just…my locker…”

Billy spun around. Teddi was standing by the door with a hand over her eyes. He felt his stomach drop. Cheryl scoffed. “Can we help you?” she asked, glaring daggers at Teddi.

“I, uh, gotta get something out of my locker is all...and then go and die from embarrassment.” she muttered. Teddi rushed passed Billy and Cheryl and disappeared for a moment. Billy heard her locker open and close before Teddi nearly bolted out of the room. He quickly followed after her, ignoring Cheryl’s protests.

“Teddi! Teddi, can you fucking slow down?” he called, jogging to catch up with her quick strides. He grabbed her arm to stop her and spun her around to face him. She refused to make eye contact with him. He wanted to say something. His brain was screaming at him to say something to her. But he couldn’t seem to get anything out. “...I’m sorry.” was all he could manage.

Teddi still wouldn’t look him in the eyes. “Sorry?” she still sounded surprised to hear him use that word. “What’s there for you sorry about?”

“I mean…” he turned and gestured back towards the locker room awkwardly. “What just happened. Cheryl said she wanted to talk and then all the sudden-” all the sudden what? He asked himself. Teddi caught you fooling around with the same girl you said you were gonna stop fooling around with? Idiot.

“You really don’t have to apologize. Really. I just needed some history notes. I’ll see you around, okay?” Billy didn’t think he’d ever seen Teddi so frazzled before. Everything about her at that moment was so unlike the Teddi he knew. He was a little surprised she didn’t give him an earful about how he needs to stop seeing Cheryl and leading her on. Now it just seemed like she would rather be anywhere that wasn’t near him. His jaw set firmly. “Don’t do that.” he didn’t let go of her arm.

“Don’t do what?” she asked with a loud sigh.

“Don’t act like nothing happened. Where’s the lecture?” he asked, leaning down so his eyes would meet hers. “You don’t have anything to say to me? No matters of the flesh comments?” he hated how angry he sounded. He was angry with himself, not Teddi.

“Billy…” Teddi’s eyes were pleading. He felt bad all over again. He dropped her arm quickly as if it had burned him. “...I’ll see you later.” she muttered. All he could really do now was helplessly watch as Teddi nearly ran down the hall and away from him and the locker room.

“God, what is taking you so long?” Billy’s hands clenched into fists at the sound of Cheryl’s voice. He whirled around to see her poking her head out of the locker room. “Are you coming back in here or what?”

“Fuck off, Cheryl.” he spat, stomping past her and back to the gym. This whole being nice thing was definitely stressing him out more than he expected it to. He actually felt embarrassed. Embarrassed that he had been caught doing something so completely stupid. Embarrassed that he cared so much about how upset Teddi seemed by the whole thing. And it was definitely embarrassing to admit to himself that he knew why he cared so much. It wasn’t a secret that he was into Teddi. He definitely hit on her enough. But it was a little more than that.

He couldn’t even say the words in his mind. That he liked Teddi. Something like that seemed so pathetic to say out loud. Not to mention it would get him nowhere. Teddi had turned him down enough times to know he didn’t stand a chance with her. Still, the feeling he’d gotten when he saw that she’d walked in on him and Cheryl was that same feeling he’d had when he’d walked into the Palace Arcade before New Year’s and saw Teddi talking to Steve.

It made that familiar anger bubble inside of him, but in a different way. He was angry at himself. He felt pathetic. Practically pining over some girl. Maybe that was part of why he kept Cheryl hanging on. She was a way to momentarily forget about any sort of feelings he might have. Which was also pretty pathetic.

There was also the option of just saying something. To stop acting like such a little bitch about it. Yeah, he thought with a scoff, I think I’d rather let Max hit me in the dick with that bat than do that. He shoved the gym door open and grabbed his bag before heading back to the locker room for a shower. At the very least they’d have to talk about this. He completely dreaded the idea. He was sure Teddi was dreading it too. But this whole ignoring each other any time shit got tough thing was getting old.

But he underestimated Teddi. When she didn’t want to talk to someone, she meant it. He hadn’t seen even a glimpse of her for the rest of the day. He’d even skipped out on his last period early to catch her in the parking lot. When he got there her van was already gone. When he dropped Max off at the arcade he asked Keith if she was around, and he’d said she was off on her break. Billy still wasn’t sure if he was telling the truth or covering for her.

He felt a little panicked then. Like finally he had gone and really fucked up. Maybe now Teddi wouldn’t want anything to do with him anymore. Maybe he had gone and chased off the one friend he had in Hawkins. To say he was angry with himself was an understatement. He thought about calling, but quickly brushed the idea aside. He’d give her her space. She’d come to him when she was ready to talk. The only problem now was trying not to go absolutely insane while he waited for that to happen.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove x oc

12 notes · View notes

jamlally · 4 years

Text

Tiny dancer

This was written for the 25 days of Christmas Challenge that is hosted by @panicfob . The Day 9 Challenge prompt was Nutcracker Ballet

Warnings: Fluff and hints of a relationship

Pairing: Tony Stark x OFC (Belle Porter), Natasha Romanoff

Summary:Tony gifts the present of a lifetime to Natasha Romanoff

Belle rested against Tony’s chest her fingers smoothing over the scars he still bore on his chest. This man had so nearly not been around to be a part of her life, and the thought that she couldn’t have know this feeling with him scared her.

So I have a surprise for Natasha - it’s really her Christmas gift, but even with my influence she needs to get it early”

Belle enjoyed heading the rumble of his voice in his chest, and gave a small hum to indicate she was listening

“So the thing is I need you to be available at 6 to come and help be five it to her - you can do that right baby”

Belle placed a soft kiss on his chest “Of course”

“Perfect” She could hear the smile In his voice “I know it’s short noice, so I took the liberty of getting something for you to wear”

Belle tilted her head up looking up at his jaw, her hands stopping any movement “Tony/…..”

“ah ah I know. You don’t like it when I spend money on you, but I want you to be there, and you needed a specific outfit. I know you could have shopped but then Natasha would likely of wanted to come and well, then everything would be ruined”

Belle couldn’t help but shake her head before craning up to kiss the underside of Tony’s jaw. “Just this once Tony. I don’t want you for your money, I just love the time that we spend together”

“Hmm me too Snowflake. Now…” Tony rolled gently pushing Belle onto her back, as he smiled down at her “We have at least an hour before we need to be anywhere and I intend to spend it seeing if I can make you make those wonderful noises again”.

Belle giggled as his lips found hers and his hands moved to her breasts. The giggle turned into a moan and she lost herself in the arms of her lover.

Looking in the mirror Belle dreaded to think just how much Tiny had spent to get the dress she was currently wearing. The deep metallic blue shimmered gently under the light, It was perfectly sized, fitted her like a glove, and showed enough of her neck ad cleavage to be sexy but not trashy. She loved the way it swayed as she moved.

“You look even better than I imagined Snowflake”. Tony was dressed in one of his impeccably tailored suits, bowtie still undone around his neck. Belle smiled back at him

“I really want to tell you how I feel it’s too much and not necessary but I really love the dress”

Tony laughed coming to stand behind her, his hands on her hips and his chin resting gently on her shoulder “You know I would fill a wardrobe with dresses like this for you If that’s what you wanted” he kissed her shoulder “but I know you don’t so le the treat you just once in a while ok”

“Ok but just once in a while”

“Shall we” Tony stepped back extending his arm and Belle draped her hand over his elbow as they headed out to meet the others.

Tony had laid on a couple of chauffeur driven limos for the team, complete with drinks and snacks and the spirits were hight as they drove through the city. Belle mostly enjoyed sitting next to Tony and listening to the others. The peace she felt surrounded by this group warmed her soul.

She could feel a slight tension in Tony, it obviously mattered to him that Natasha enjoyed this evening, she knew that he had put a lot of thought into this gift and while he didn’t like to show it, these people meant the world to him.

The car’s eventually pulled up outside a grand looking theatre that was beautifully lit and the team regrouped. Tony cleared his throat “Look I appreciate you all getting dressed up and coming along tonight, Natasha I wanted to get you something that you would enjoy for Christmas, I mean I know you like knifes and leather and all that, but this year I figured something a little different”

The others all chuckled. “The NY Ballet company has been putting a special series of performances for Christmas to raise money for local charities. The performances have been by invitation only and tonight is the last for the season and we have a box waiting in your name, I also had a discussion with the director and he has agreed that the money raised tonight will go to New Yorkers for Children in your name.

Natasha stepped forward and hugged Tony in an uncharacteristic show of emotions. Belle watched as Tony gently rubbed his friends back, his eyes looking pretty soft and possibly a little teary when Natasha kissed his cheek in thanks.

Tony ushered them inside and they were quickly escorted up to a private box and Natasha was ushered to the central seat.

“Have you ever seen the Ballet?” Natasha turned to Belle a smile in place

Belle shook her head “Never. It’s not something I really know anything about”

Natasha gave a sick laugh “I’m pretty sure that most of these guys haven’t either so don’t worry about it. I can explain anything that’s happening and answer any questions you might have.

“That would be wonderful - I didn’t know that you were such a big fan of ballet. I hope you don’t mind me saying that it seems an unusual hobby for a spy”

Natasha turned to face Belle a little more her smile a little sad and Belle couldn’t help but reach out and squeeze the other woman’s hand

“I’m sorry - I didn’t mean to make you sad”.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m not really sad, just a little melancholy. Once upon a time I wanted to been of those women on the stage. There was something very freeing about moving to the music”

“I’m sorry that you had to give up that dream. It explains how you move so beautifully when you fight though”

The smile Natasha gave her was a little happier “Well the skills had to be useful for something no ? And when you think of it most kids don’t get to be what they first dreamed off so it is what it is”.

The lights dipped and the opening notes rose from the orchestra pit, the curtains opened and the first of the dancers took to the stage.

Belle had been glued to the stage and found that sitting next to Natasha she learnt a lot about the moves the dancers performed and what each act was showing. She had stood with the others at the end of the performance and clapped and cheered for the dancers.

Tony had disappeared as the dancers appeared for their encore and returned just as everyone was getting ready to head out of the box/

“If you could all sit your assess down there is one more party to tonight. We just need to wait here for a couple of minutes, I am sure you can find some way to entertain yourselves”

Belle headed over to Tony cuddling into his side as he checked his phone

“And just what else do you have planned for tonight Mr Stark?” She spoke quietly in his ear, watching as he licked his lips a small smirk in place.

Tony bent down pressings lips up against Belle’s ear “Now you just need to wait and see Little Miss and if you keep brushing against me like that things are going to get ….out of hand pretty quickly”. Warm dry lips smoothed over the tendon n Belles neck before they were followed by the sharp nip of teeth, and the brush of tongue to ease the sling.

Belle felt her cheeks flush as her knees felt a little wobbly and her breath caught in her chest. Before she could respond in kind a cough pulled Tony’s attention elsewhere

“We are ready Mr Stark if you and the rest of the party would like to follow me” they were ushered out of the box, through a door marked for employees only and down sets of stairs which eventually lead to the stage wings.

“Ms Romanoff” The guide waved Natasha forward “This is Alexandra Ansanelli, she is our current principle ballerina and took the lead in tonight performance”.

Natasha was delighted to spend time talking with the younger woman and Belle was sure that she had never seen someone touch things as reverently as Natasha did when she saw the costumes.

Tony leaned down to whisper in Belle’s ear “And now for the grande finale” Belle looked up slightly puzzled and Tony tuned her head back to Natasha as Ms Ansanelli handed the spy a box

A gasp came from Natasha when she opened the box to find a custom made pair of ballet slippers. The orchestra are waiting, there is to be one last performance of the Dance of the Sugarplum fairy tonight - if you would”

Natasha looked lost for words as the others moved to find seats. Tony threw a wink in Natashas direction “See you out there red”

As the lights dipped once more the group fell quiet, the curtains opened and there in the spotlight stood the teams resident red head, dressed in a custom tailored costume. The orchestra played the first note and Natasha began to move.

As the final note rang out Natasha held the final position and the team stood whooping and clapping. Belle head tears in her eyes and she squeezed Tony’s arm.

“You did good Tony. She looks so happy and you did that. I’ve got to say I’m not sure how you beat this next year”

Tony laughed, popping her on the butt to encourage Belle forward and Belle jumped f before shaking her ass at him and then moving to leave the seats.

The mood as they group joined Natasja was jubilant and Belle couldn’t wait to see what else Tony would have planned for their friends.

#panic's 25 days of christmas #christmas

5 notes · View notes

bastardsunlight · 5 years

Text

//LONG-ass headcanon sesh for D, Alucard (Hellsing) and Adrian (CV’s Alucard) all kinda rolled into one.

So, since I don’t have radiantDecay anymore, I’ve sort of pulled back from the verse where Adrian BECOMES D. There was a lot of movement and timeline adjustment that had to happen for that one, and while it is in some way still possible, I’m not terribly interested in upkeeping a unique interpretation for a character that’s never really going to come into play. If you’re writing with D, it’s thousands of years after he was Adrian. If you’re writing with Adrian, it’s pre-1999 pretty much.

So, I have some documents someplace that I had written regarding D’s origins. The novels heavily imply that he’s somehow enhanced—y’know the movies hint at him just being super powerful Mary Sue turbo ultra dhampir simply because he is the son of “Our Sacred Ancestor” whomst we all pretty much know is Dracula himself right? Certain novels even hint that Mina Harker is his mother, if they don’t just outright state it. It might be the clunky translation (they really should have been more carefully transliterated because WOW some of those sentences just… don’t), but thus far it’s not been made CRYSTAL PERFECT CLEAR. However, I’m more than willing to run with that idea.

Dracula is, by the time Mina et. Al. come up against him, quite old, nigh ancient. I think that the Dracula of the Bram Stoker novel is or, rather, was the historical Vlad III Dracula Tepes (the impaler), born in the 1420s, “died” in the 1470s, iirc. Supposedly, the sultan at the time… Mehmed Fatih, kept his head in a box for a while before pinning him up on the walls of Constantinople, which the Turks controlled at the time. Ugly period in history for Eastern Europe… With Wallachia and Transylvania, in particular, two kingdoms in Romania, times were triple trouble. They were sandwiched between the Ottoman Empire to the east, then west was Eastern Orthodox Christendom—further west was Roman Catholicism and if you think THOSE guys didn’t fight, ding dong ur wrong!

BUT this period of violence produced one of the most well-known and controversial heroes (sometimes called a war criminal) of all time. Also he had a great ‘stache. Now when I write Hellsing’s Alucard, I roll with this same lore, so D and that Alucard could absolutely exist in the same ‘verse. It’s kind of a “darkest timeline” deal, a world in which the Belmont clan never existed. Before that even, Lisa never made Dracula’s acquaintance so the guy’s motivations are a little different. In addition, he is NOT Mathias Cronqvist, a tactician during the first crusades in 1090 AD. In that case, he would have revamped (PUN) his whole personality and integrated himself into one of the other great houses of Wallachia/Transylvania and re-emerged four hundred years later as Vlad the Impaler. That could work fine—not like he hasn’t got time—and that would have been around the time he met, and lost, Lisa. Now whether THAT part of history looks the same is dubious, since Vlad’s exploits during the period of his reign/deposition/reign/deposition/beheading are pretty decently documented. In this case, I’m going to say the Belmonts’ existence is in a timeline where those conflicts also may have played out differently. As these are all fictional worlds, I guess this’s up to ME atm. Nice.

So this is part “how I write D” and part “how I’d be inclined to write Alucard (Hellsing) in interactions that take place BEFORE the manga—like WAY before”. Since Adrian would have been a major contributing factor to the Belmonts’ strength from Trevor onward (so in the games idk if folks know this, but Adrian is Trevor’s father, with Sonia Belmont being his mom), that would also have contributed, at least in part, to the ability of the Belmonts to stomp Dracula and his minions.

With D, there is no need to include Mathias and his ebony/crimson stone conundrum, which does tend to throw a small monkey wrench in the ol’ gears (but not big enough I can’t adapt, trust me). The difference, aside from lack of Belmonts, is the origin of vampires. Clearly, they’re a magical construct or a spell-woven form of sentient life in Castlevania. In Vampire Hunter D, it’s heavily implied (once again, not outright stated) that the Nobility, some of them anyway, are simply a mutation of humanity (Dark Gene vs Light Gene, Lina’s whole deal, among other passages here and there), who also happen to be allergic to garlic, crucifixes, running water, and basic-ass Bram Stoker weaknesses. They’ve even got labs full o’ Nobles tryin’a conquer the sun issue.

So to know D, we gotta know his dad first. At the beginning, Vlad III is born to (big surprise) Vlad II. He and his brother are sent to Edirne as part of the Ottoman Empire’s “tribute” of however many young boys from noble houses, to be trained in the ways of Islam and Turkish mannerisms, etc. This is more for pacification of that region of Europe, which is still Eastern Orthodox, than it is for real “peace”. It’s “peace because you guys are a good buffer zone between us and the rest of Eastern Orthodox-dom”, anyway. Every _voivode_ of Wallachia has to swear allegiance to either the Ottoman Empire or to the Eastern Orthodox church. While most of that area is EO, it’s in their best interest to swear to the Ottoman Empire. They’re bigger and closer. Vlad’s dad has done some underhanded shit, but he’s also a member of the Order of the Dragon and has propelled it to new heights within the EO and that’s where Vlad gets his name: Dracula, which is Son of the Dragon. So Vlad II’s immediate family are known as the Draculesti, which is fucking cool—it’s like “children of the dragon” and that’s not even his like, NAME name—it’s a frickin’ nickname, or sobriquet, as is Tepes.

In the world of Vampire Hunter D, vampirism appears to be a genetic phenomenon—ironically, a mutation. No Noble is going to admit that, OBVIOUSLY. And while it’s true, they were probably born that way, they’re still a mutant human derivative. Rather than mutating due to radiation or whatevermstthefuck like the actual mutants in VHD, they’re just born that way. So what I’m rolling with is Vlad III was born with that particular mutation and, kind of like my OC Toby, who is also a genetic vampire, it takes a violent or unnatural death to trigger the actual symptoms, else you’re just a normal-ass person. In fact, in this interpretation, I’m going to say that maybe quite a few people are BORN with that mutation, but if they live to a ripe old age and die, it never triggers. Most likely, the body is too enfeebled to handle it, maybe it dies after menopause/andropause? Either way, the body has broken down too much and there’s no material to work with.

That might also go a long way to explain the animosity many old vampires have toward humanity. Sometimes it’s straight up contempt, of course, but every single time, it seems to be a removal. Carmilla is a good example. Most of the time, her backstory involves a vicious assault that might very well have killed her. Imagine dying that way and waking back up to find that you had to KEEP living in the world that did this to you, that death is FAR far off. I can understand being VERY PERTURBED, to put it mildly. By the same token, what about war? How many folks die in war? Thousands? Millions? Of all those, how many have the mutation? Probably quite a few. Some folks might not figure out what’s going on and stay where they are, buried for decades, before just wasting away without sustenance—Vampires DO require blood, after all, to keep doin’ their thing. Plenty more are probably just torched in the sun. Since they were KIA, it might be rough finding their bodies in the first place…

So Vlad is beheaded—now this part intersects VERY well with Hellsing’s Alucard in my portrayal—and Mehmed Fatih keeps his head close at hand for a bit, probably talking to it. What happens when it starts talking back? We know Dracula has some SERIOUSLY kickass abilities and putting himself back together would definitely be one of ‘em, in my humble opinion. Mehmed dies not long after he achieves “victory” over Vlad the Impaler and no one knows where Vlad’s remains are. Maybe they up and walked the fuck away, hm? Maybe it was HE who ensured Mehmed’s destruction. How poetic would THAT be? Spoiler alert ||very||.

Now imagine going through everything he did—the guy had a tumultuous life. He might be one of the few, lucky ones who figure out that sunlight is a no-go, hide himself away, eventually go back to haunt his castle in the mountains between Transylvania and Wallachia. Now fast forward to the 1800s, MODERN TIMES (heehee okay) and one very ambitious realtor who wants to sell a creepy old abbey to some weird foreigner. Seems legit. Anyway by now we can see that Dracula’s gotten kinda nutty? He has three scary “wives” but he doesn’t seem to care much for ‘em. They’re obviously vampires, too, though I cannot recall if they’re turned by him or if they’re LIKE him—anyone who’s read it recently, do feel free to refresh me.

He’s kinda senile and while he’s crafty, he’s outsmarted by a dandy, an ancient-ass doctor, a dude who cannot stop fainting, a man named Quincey (my husbando), and Jack Seward—nuff said. He has some kind of congress with Mina, though ofc it’s the Victorian age so the only penetration is that of his li’l toofers on her poor neck. Nom. I don’t think Dracula banged Mina Harker. I think that, in THIS world, a dhampir is a nigh-impossibility, because at this point (and their cool-ass vampire science might’ve changed this), vampires are The Undead™ and therefore cannot CREATE LIFE. Not even if they have a raging turboner (that’s a turbo boner, for those of u not in the know). So he bit Mina, but before he did that, Mina married Jonathan—like as soon as he got home. They were married and living together and doing the frickle frackle, presumably, before Drac shows up in London to mess up their day.

In this case and for the sake of sanity, to create a dhampir, the vampire must chew on a pregnant lady. The curse lifts from her when the master is killed, but his blood has already entered and changed the child; the process is much longer and more involved for an adult human, who has an immune system and much more ground to cover. If the smol bean was in embryo stage or even fetal, it had no defense and mom’s body provided it with everything, Dracula’s blood, included. The final set of letters in Dracula mentiones a young boy, Jonathan and Mina’s son, Quincey, named after their fallen friend. So little Quincey is a dhampir!

Now, a bitten vampire cannot, in this universe, turn anyone else. They can feed and create thralls, but they can’t make VAMPIRES. In Hellsing lore, if a vamp bites you and you’re a virgin, you become one—if not, you become a ghoul/zambolio thingamajigger. Integra narrates this for us pretty early on. But it’s not Alucard’s venom doing this. It’s the vicar of Cheddar Village, who is a manufactured vampire. He’s not a true vampire, not like Alucard. Now, Alucard DOES ask Seras if she’s a virgin ‘fore he kills and bites her, which makes sense… IF HE LOVED MINA.

Hear me out. So, he saw this strong-ass bitch and thought “goddamn I’m sick of my whiny, vicious wives UGH I need me a woman like that”. So he’s gunna turn her. It probably takes longer since he hasn’t been powered up by Hellsing and their dark science-magic shit, or whatever it was… OR as he chomps on ‘er, he realizes “well fuck me she’s preggo, so even if she changes, I can’t have her”. Pregnant blood has GOTTA taste different, all those hormones and shit, even early on. I think he did have some weird admiration-affection for her. His arrogance and greed, however, has taken him over, so perhaps he decides to change her slow, to make the fellas suffer. They’ve fucked with him so he’s gunna fuck with them, but I think it pains him a little to do so, because lbr Mina’s the woman of his dreams.

So when Quincey is born, he’s perfect, healthy, rosy-cheeked, and by god only Mina knows something’s amiss. Damned if she’s going to say shit to Jonathan, who’s liable to faint, the absolute fucking walnut. They live fairly well, having taken over the real-estate business from their wonderful, generous, dead benefactor.

Much like Carmilla’s weirdo ghost, however, Dracula’s spirit absolutely lives on.

TL; DR D was born Quincey Harker.

#aboutdmeta #aboutadrianmeta #aboutalucardmeta

10 notes · View notes

snarkwrites · 3 years

Text

08 | gangsta ; sweet pea

Notes:

SO.. I uhh... Got super into writing this recently. I just really liked where it was heading after part 7. Yes. Yes, I realize that literally no one asked for more of this but.. I wrote it. Might as well share it.

I need to amend what I said about this being non canon compliant. It does mention things that happen in canon. Some of them even.. Happen. But differently. And a little out of order as I saw they fit into my own personal timeline. Also.. I’m gonna throw in some totally of my own creation stuff into here as well. I don’t exactly know what all that’ll be yet, but.. Yeah.

This is the first of four parts I have already written and waiting to go. I know, I know.. Literally no one asked for this. But you’re getting it anyway.

Warnings:

non canon compliant - this is the biggest warning, so if you’re into things that follow exact canon plot you are… definitely not going to like this. angst & slow burn, heavy sexual tensionstarting now, actually - this is just so everyone who started reading this thinking the smut would transpire in a hurry knows that apparently, it is not. violence / swearing & fighting, possible underage drinking and other shenanigans- look.. it’s high school. shit happens. also apparently, my ofc Alyssa uses the word fuck like all the time?…eventual sexual content / a virgin original character- this one is self explanatory. yes, i plan to write a smutty chapter in this at some point. when? i don’t rightly know. it’s got a while before we get there.

Pairing:

Andrews!Sibling OFC, Alyssa x Sweet Pea

Other Parts:

[ one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - soundtrack ]

Other Stuff:

[ faq - tag list doc ]

Tagging:

@brithedemonspawn is the only person on my Riverdale tag list. If you’d like to be tagged for this story by all means.. Please let me know. Please, I beg. It’d make me super duper happy!!!

EIGHT.

“ Al?”

I turned down my radio and strained to hear. It almost sounded like Polly calling my name from the bottom of the stairs. I wandered over to my bedroom door, peeking out. Polly stood at the foot of the stairs, holding her twins on each hip. A smile played at my lips and I bounded down the stairs, launching myself into a careful hug. Fussing over the twins because I’d been dying to see them since the night Polly added me on Snapchat before everything went down the way it did.

She’d sent me a message that night, telling me she was pregnant and that she and Jason were leaving. She’d been planning to swing through Chicago with Jason and visit, on their way to wherever it was they’d planned to go. When it never happened and I didn’t hear from her again, I’d been worried for a while.

Then Betty realized that she’d been keeping in touch with me over Snapchat right after she went missing and she’d messaged me, asking if I’d seen Polly. When I told her I hadn’t and asked what was going on, she’d filled me in on everything.. Jason’s death and Polly’s fight with their parents and then Polly running away.

The rest filled itself in when I moved back in with my dad, for the most part. I found myself trying to stick close to Cheryl, because I knew she was taking it really hard. Because Jason had been like the third of us. Honestly, it hit me pretty hard too when I found out. Especially when Cheryl did that thing she always fucking does and tried to push me away. Tried to deal with it herself.

I’d given myself over to the thought Polly wasn’t ever going to return to Riverdale, so I was a little shocked that she was here. And staying under the same roof as her mom again.

“The last thing Betty told me was that you were living on a farm. I bet that was peaceful.” I stretched and smiled at her. Just imagining the lazy days that probably stretched on and on. The slow and quiet life.

Polly smiled, nodding. “I learned so much there.”

I nodded. “What was it like?”

We moved to sit on the couch and Polly began to tell me what she’d been up to. I listened, nodding and smiling. But the entire time she described this place, God help me, I found myself getting flashbacks to the true crime podcast I’d listened to about the Jonesboro cult. Or the Davidians from Waco.

I mean… it sounded harmless enough, but everything she told me about the place just made me think less of a commune and more of a cult type setting. And that had me worried.

The front door was being pounded on. When I heard Reggie calling my name through it, I grumbled. Polly gazed at the door and then at me. Smirking. “No way! I always thought you and Reggie would be cute together!”

“Whoa.. Let’s not get all happy.” I shook my head, frowning a little. Telling her in detail what actually happened and that we were broken up. She shook her head, frowning. “That’s a jerk move. Betty told me you were on the Vixens now?”

“Yeah. You know Cheryl. She’s always had a way of talking me right into shit I normally wouldn’t do. And Riverdale High didn’t exactly have a gymnastics team like my old school in Chicago, so I decided rather than go rusty and lose my edge, I’d join.” I shrugged, laughing and shaking my head. “It’s not so bad, I guess.”

She nodded to my outfit for the day. Ripped jeans, a Motley Crue t shirt and my favorite boots, my dad’s old plaid shirt. “You mean the other Vixens haven’t read you for filth for daring non conformity?”

“ Oh, there’s this one girl I’m dying to get my hands on when we do that powderpuff football game on Friday, but other than her, nobody really seems to care or notice? I’m just kinda.. There. Which believe me… is totally fine with me.”

I bent down to pick up Dagwood so that Polly could feed Juniper because she was crying. Adjusting Dagwood to my hip, I made my way over to the door, throwing it open. Scowling up at Reggie, who was leaning against a porch post.

His gaze softened when he glanced at me. I bit my lip. Taking a deep breath to keep my patience. I knew he was hurting. I knew it was also totally his fault. But I was trying not to be mean.

“What do you want?”

“Are you seriously dating that fucking guy now? Princess, he’s only going to hurt you.”

“No worse than you already have. But no.. No Reggie, I’m not dating Sweet Pea. I just fell asleep in Mr. Keaton’s class and I happened to wind up leaning against the guy. Kind of happens when I stay up until 3 watching the Saw movies.”

He looked as if he didn’t believe a thing I said. I shrugged because honestly, I didn’t care if he believed me or not. Shifting Dagwood from one hip to the other. Bouncing him a little, giving a soft laugh when he grinned up at me. And raised his little hand to try and grab a handful of the ends of my hair.

“ That guy is bad news, princess. If I have to, I’ll talk to your dad. Anything if it means keepin you from gettin seriously hurt. Or worse, put in danger.”

“Reggie, you need to go.” I rolled my eyes. “I should get back inside. Get Dagwood back to his mommy.”

Reggie was giving me this soft look again. Nodding. Like he was lost in thought. I snapped my fingers in his face and cleared my throat. “You need to go, Reggie. I’m not kidding. The more you pop up and try to force me to deal with this, the less it makes me want to, okay? I need space. Time.”

“It’s just so hard, princess. Then I see you around with him and damn it, I hate the way I acted and the fact that I ruined everything.” Reggie admitted quietly. I nodded. “Just give me space.”

“I’ll try.” he promised, turning, walking down my porch steps. From the doorway, Polly spoke up.

“Sweet Pea.. He’s a Serpent, right? Jason mentioned him once or twice.” Polly asked as she reached out for Dagwood and gave me Juniper to hold.

I settled Juniper on my hip and gazed at Reggie’s retreating back. Sighing and shaking my head sadly. I just wish he’d understand that the more he tries to force himself on me right now, the less I want to deal with everything. And I don’t want to lose a friend.

I diverted my gaze and turned to face Polly, nodding. “Yeah. I got paired with him in Biology. It’s been interesting, to say the least.” I sank down to sit on a bench my father built, laughing as I shook my head. Cooing at Juniper.

Polly cleared her throat. “Out with it, Alyssa Jean. I know that look too well, okay? And as your friend, I need to tell you now that the Serpents aren’t people you mess around with lightly. Not to mention, that whole thing with that guy Dave you had going in Chicago. The scary guy? The reason your mom freaked out and sent you here to live in the first place, most likely?”

“It’s nothing. It’s dumb.” I shook my head. Shifting Juniper around in my lap. Bouncing my legs a little to make her grin and reach up. “Dave was scary. And I’m starting to see that my mom did a good thing sending me here. I’m just glad he hasn’t tried to reach out to me.” I shivered a little, raising a hand to drag it through my hair. Gazing at Polly.

“The Serpents aren’t all bad.” I spoke up after a few seconds.

“Al, half of them already have rap sheets. I just don’t want you getting mixed up with them and getting hurt. Promise me you’ll at least give anything you’re thinking a lot of thought instead of just diving in and doing it?” Polly eyed me in concern. Mostly to appease her, I nodded.

“As far as Reggie.. I think he really regrets what he did.” Polly advised. Giving me a smile. Clearly trying to steer me in a particular direction. I know she was doing it with the best of intentions, but deep down, it struck a nerve or two. Because literally anyone I could think of save for Cheryl and Toni, they all seemed hell bent on steering me clear of Sweet Pea. Which was ironic, considering I really don’t see him ever even giving me a second look. Even more ironic when you stop to consider that it’s not like I’m openly throwing myself at the guy...Or that I’ve pretty much made up my mind that if I do feel anything for him, I can’t ever actually tell him, because it will ruin everything.

I opened my mouth to say something, but I decided against it. Polly gave me a soft smile, getting a dreamy look in her eyes as she spoke again. “The look he was giving you just now, Al.. If you gave him half a chance… you could be as happy as Jason and I were. Or as happy as I was raising my sweet angels at the Farm. You should come to a meeting with me.”

I shook my head quickly to that one. “I am.. Not into organized religion. I barely go to the services at the church here unless my dad really wants me to go with him. Besides.. We both know that I got up to enough sketchy stuff in Chicago that if I were to step foot in a religious building, lightning might just strike me down.”

“You weren’t that bad, Al. Everyone makes mistakes.” Polly laughed softly. Nodding to her twins as she mused, “Which one of us got knocked up, hm? And we both know how fast that gets you written off here.”

“ I know I wasn’t that bad, but also at the same time, it scares me now to think back and remember how much fun I had when I was in over my head, doing things I knew I shouldn’t ? As far as you getting pregnant and what this town thinks about it. Honestly, fuck ‘em. You and Jason were really in love. That’s what matters.”

“We really were. But it was hard.” Polly admitted quietly. Adding as an afterthought, “ I really miss him sometimes.”

“Yeah. Me too. Pretty sure he’d have helped Archie drill Reggie’s head into the floor when it got around exactly why Reggie was even dating me to begin with. It was ridiculous. Took Jughead and Kevin to pull the two apart.” I gave a quiet laugh, shaking my head.

Alice was calling for Polly and Polly grumbled, raising up to peek out the window. “I better go over there and see what she wants. I wanted to come over. Maybe I can come by again later or something?” Polly asked as she gathered Juniper and Dagwood, re-swaddling them against her. I smiled, nodding. Following her to my door, letting her out and locking the door again behind me once I saw her disappear inside her parents house.

XXX

“They’re going to tear down South Side.”

The words had Sweet Pea tensing because it was just another thing he’d be losing. It wasn’t enough apparently, that he was living in the Wyrm because he had nowhere else to go. He didn’t have family willing to take him. His mother hadn’t spoken to any of them in years. He barely saw his mother as it was, she’d come home for a day, a week tops and then she’d be gone again.

He gazed over at Fangs, processing what Fangs was telling him. “First it was closing the school down. Then it was our homes. What next, huh? What else do we have to get taken?”

Jughead wandered into the Wyrm and Sweet Pea scowled a little. It didn’t matter how much Jughead was trying to do for the gang, what he was accomplishing was the opposite of what needed to happen. “The fuck is he doing here?” Sweet Pea nodded to Jughead.

“He’s one of us, man.” Fangs reminded Sweet Pea. Glancing at Jughead as Jughead made his way over. He’d probably just heard the news about South Side High too. Though Fangs didn’t see why it mattered

“Only because of FP. Cherry’s more one of us than he is. I still say the second we’re not useful he’s going to bitch out and turn his back.” Sweet Pea grumbled.

Fangs chuckled, shaking his head. Sweet Pea hadn’t ever made a secret how he felt about Jughead. And he certainly hadn’t taken it easy on the guy when they initiated him into the Serpents not so long ago, either.

Jughead sat down next to where Fangs was standing, grabbing himself a drink from behind the counter and pulling the tab. Taking a long sip.

“We have to do something. They’re taking everything from us.” Jughead spoke up angrily.

“I’d like to point out they’re your friends.” Sweet Pea spoke up, a harsh tone as he glanced over at Jughead.

“I’d like to point out that we all know you have a thing for one of them. If you’re going to sit there and pin this on the North Side like usual, I mean. At least own up to that.” Jughead retorted, watching Sweet Pea’s fists clench and his face twist into an angry mask. Trying to keep himself from laughing as it happened.

Sweet Pea having feelings for Alyssa wasn’t quite as well hidden as the guy thought.

The only one who didn’t seem to be aware of it was Alyssa herself. It amused Jughead.

It did not amuse Alyssa’s brother.

And the two had already had several heated conversations about him hanging around Alyssa so much that Jughead had to intervene on more than one occasion.

“I keep telling you idiots I don’t. I’d trust her before I would you, Jones. If we’re going there.” Sweet Pea muttered.

“Whatever you say, Pea. Can we stop arguin? Maybe start thinkin about what the fuck we’re gonna do?” Fangs patted his friend on the shoulder and Sweet Pea glared up at him.

“A hunger strike. We chain ourselves to the school. They can’t demolish it if we’re not moving.” Jughead suggested.

Fangs and Sweet Pea shared a look. Neither were sure their idea would work. But maybe it could buy them some time. Or get attention to the issues at hand… The more attention they drew to the fact that certain people were trying to use their money to completely run an entire neighborhood out of town, the better their case.

“That’s not the worst idea.”

“I hate what I’m about to say.” Sweet Pea paused, grimacing as he added, “It’s not. It’ll get attention on what’s happening. I hated saying that, fuck.”

“Let me go talk to the others. We’ll reconvene at 9 tonight?”

Fangs and Sweet Pea nodded and Jughead went to talk to some of the other Serpents.

“That killed you, didn’t it buddy?” Fangs teased Sweet Pea.

“Fuck you, Fogarty.” Sweet Pea snapped, grumbling to himself. “Doing somethin is better than just sitting back and lettin them take everything, I guess.”

And at 9:30 pm that night, Jughead, Fangs, Sweet Pea and Toni as well as several other former South Side students met at their old school. Chaining themselves to the fence in protest.

#sweetpea fanfiction #sweetpea fanfic #sweetpea fic #sweetpea imagine #sweetpea imagines #my writing ; sweetpea #my fanfiction; sweetpea #my fics; sweetpea

6 notes · View notes

realityhelixcreates · 5 years

Text

Lasabrjotr Chapter 9: The Nine Realms: 101

Chapters: 9/? Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Warnings: Mention of implied non-con, mention of implied past abuse, Mentions of colonialism Relationships: Loki x Reader (But not yet) Characters: Loki (Marvel), Thor (Marvel), OFC, Heimdall(Marvel), Brunnhilde/Valkyrie(Marvel) Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending, Reader was Once Part of a Board of Paranoid Conspriacy Theorists and has Never Denied Being One of Them, Reader Gets Things Twisted, Loki shows off, Loki is Jealous and Doesn’t Know Why, Time For a History Lesson, My Headcanons; Let Me Show You Them, Writer Loves Worldbuilding, Ode to the Worst World Mythology Book I’ve Ever Read Summary: Reader gets some disturbing ideas from a poorly written world mythology book, and also a joint history/astronomy lesson

Andsvarr would not let you leave the rooms that day, and he did not know when Loki would be back. You understood that the man was a prince and had a great deal of responsibility, but you didn’t know what to do with yourself while you waited.

Saldis had been by, to deliver a disappointingly small stack of English language books.

“They were with the donations.” She explained. “So there’s likely to be more at some time. Until then, this is all we’ve got.”

Four books, that was all. One on world mythology, another on Icelandic history. One astronomy textbook, and the last, a volume of the works of Shakespeare, containing his tragedies.

Well, if all you could do was wait, then it couldn’t hurt to learn a thing or two.

The ‘world mythology’ book was much more of a ‘Greek mythology with a few short entries from everywhere else’ book, but the small Norse section nevertheless contained some rather shocking concepts. You did not recognize the Loki portrayed here, nor the Thor. There were many other names listed, none of whom you had met. Where were the rest of them? Had they all died in the tragedy that brought all of Asgard here to Earth? Or were they just out doing their jobs, like Heimdall, and you simply hadn’t crossed paths yet?

Once you’d read through the tiny section, wondering where the heck this Odin fellow was, you had to turn back to the much larger Greek and Roman section. They probably weren’t the same gods with different names, as you had once surmised, but they were contemporary with the Norse figures, and might help you understand godhood and your relation to it a bit better.

A few hours of reading passed, and the results were not comforting. Either the author had a major bias, or the gods were just kind of terrible. Every story seemed littered with assault and murder, suffering, revenge, and sexual misconduct-to put it delicately! Why could the gods turn humans into other things, but not turn them back? Why was every story so sad? Why so many non-consensual relations? Was that just the nature of dealings between man and god? If so, did the royal brothers simply see everything that had already happened to you-and everything that might happen to you in the future-as completely acceptable and normal? Where were the lines drawn?

Back on the fens, Iron Man had accused Loki of kidnapping you across the sea like it was still the Viking age. Loki hadn’t refuted the claim; he hadn’t even reacted to it. The last time an Asgardian had set foot on this planet, that had been seen as a completely normal thing to do. A legitimate way to get oneself a wife. Or at least, a female slave that they could do whatever they wanted with.

Loki’s time on Earth had been very short. What if he wasn’t up to date yet? What if that was how he saw you? What if he came to expect certain things from you? What might he do if you didn’t provide?

What could you do? Pretty much nothing, that’s what. This was exactly why you didn’t want to be dependent on him, or any man really, for your living conditions. You’d already been with someone who had gotten you into just such a situation. Him, you had been able to walk away from, eventually, though it had left you with scars and baggage. You had no means of escape from Loki.

And he had suddenly gotten so very tactile. Almost the very instant he knew that you would be staying, that he had gotten that concession to let him ‘take care’ of you out of you. Had he taken that as consent? How far was he going to take it? What could you do to fight back? Could you?

You set the book aside, and gazed out the window at the budding city, trying to calm down. Surely you were jumping to too many conclusions. There was no evidence for any of this, except for every entry in that book, which unapologetically painted the gods as major league assholes.

It wormed its way nefariously into your brain. Thousands of years was a long time to do truly awful things, and become jaded about them. Or simply forget they had even happened! A long time to justify, to normalize. What might be hidden, coiled up in his past, waiting to spring out at you? You didn’t know the man!

The book openly described him as a god of evil. Of trickery and lies, of deception. It didn’t seem possible. Evil wasn’t a solid concept. Acts could be evil, deeds could be evil, but evil as a concept was nebulous. It couldn’t be embodied by one person. People could, and did frequently do both.

But what if you were wrong? While you considered yourself as well educated as you could get on your own, it wasn’t as if you had never been fooled before. And if he was basically the god of fooling people, really so cold-hearted and vicious, really just playing a little game with your life, how would you ever know?

You were stuck trusting him, while the only source of information you had said that was a thing you should absolutely never do. So which did you believe; your own brief experiences, or an author who might be biased or might be an actual expert on the subject?

Did it matter? Knowing what he might do to you did you no good if you had no way to escape it. Maybe you should just steel yourself to the idea that he might not be done taking from you.

You were wound tight as a wire by the time you heard him enter the rooms, and you prayed to whoever might be out there that he would just skip checking in on you.

There might be thousands of gods in the universe, but they were all deaf tonight. Loki opened the door without even knocking.

“It’s dinnertime.” Was all he said, clearly expecting you to simply come along. So that’s what you did.

*****

Brunnhilde was a goddess too; the book had said that all Valkyries were. Not goddesses of anything in particular, apparently, but divine nonetheless. You were the only one at the table who was…lesser. Even Heimdall had come in and joined you all for supper.

Why Loki insisted on having you there baffled you. That first night was obviously a formality, but there was no reason to keep bringing you along. You felt even more awkward and out of place tonight, and he still kept touching you!

But with a bunch of gods at the table, maybe you could get a few answers.

“Um, if you don’t mind me asking, where’s Freya?”

Thor hadn’t been expecting the question, but didn’t seem offended by it.

“She’s on Vanaheim, naturally.” He said, as if it were obvious. As if you knew what Vanaheim was. “Along with her brother, and her father. Among others. Right?”

He looked at Heimdall, who gazed at the ceiling for a long moment.

“Yes.” He said simply.

“Good. They are just elsewhere right now, why?”

“Well, I just wondered why they weren’t here with the rest of you.” You said. The book had said that Heimdall could see anything, anywhere. It looked like that part was true. Did that mean the rest of it was? “Or why you weren’t with the rest of them. Why you decided to relocate here instead of…Vanaheim, was it?”

“The Earth is among the largest of the ni-eight realms.” Thor explained. “There is room for us here. And to be perfectly honest, humankind is much better at adapting to the presence of strangers than any other people I know. It must have something to do with your unusually short lifespans. Or maybe the almost aggressively social nature of your species.”

“What are the eight realms?” you asked. Your book must have skipped over that part, in its brevity.

“I believe an astronomy lesson just got planned for tomorrow.” Loki said.

“History too.” Brunnhilde added. “How’d you like to be the first human in centuries to gain an education in Asgardian history?”

“Second.” Thor muttered very quietly.

Loki and Heimdall seemed to both find that one spot on the ceiling very interesting, while Brunnhilde attempted to stare more information out of Thor.

None of your business. You turned your attention to your serving of creamy yogurt stuff-skyr-and its delicious red berry topping. Why didn’t they have this stuff back home? It was amazing. You didn’t allow Loki to drag you away until you’d finished every bit.

*****

You ended up in the big library again, in another newish layered dress of green, black, and gold. They weren’t being very subtle about this. It wasn’t that they were bad colors, it was just that they were so very specific.

The prince and the Valkyrie had taken over an entire table, piled it high with books and illustrations. Loki waved you over excitedly.

“We’ve devised a joint lesson that you should find very enlightening. Come, sit. You will like this.”

He pulled your chair out for you, a noble gesture that was mostly lost on you. He took his own seat beside you.

“Let me start with the local galactic supercluster.” Loki said.

“The what now?”

“Yggdrasil.”

“The what now?”

He gestured grandly at the center of the table, from which a billowing figure began to grow and branch. Bright lights blossomed in places, glittering sparks shimmered across limbs of darkness. A masterpiece of tiny details, almost incomprehensible outside of context. It was incredibly beautiful.

“Is this…is it space?” You hazarded a guess. You hadn’t gotten very far in your astronomy book, but he had called it a ‘galactic supercluster’ which sounded rather self-explanatory.

“Oh yes. This is Yggdrasil. The Tree of Worlds, the Guardian of Wisdom. Is it not glorious?”

Another gesture, and the image began to slowly rotate.

“It’s very beautiful.” The way he was looking at you was so expectant. Was he showing off? “This is full of galaxies then? All these lights?”

“The lights are individual stars. But the glow you see is the combined light of tens of thousands of galaxies. Asgard once held influence over great swathes of this area, and our name was known and respected all throughout.”

You stared. This one image represented an area bigger than you could possibly comprehend.

“How?” You asked. It didn’t seem like there were enough Asgardians to even leave a single representative in every galaxy therein. How could the influence of one species reach so far?

“Same way everyone else does.” Brunnhilde said. “We’re really good at stabbing things.”

“There were a number of factors.” Loki said dryly. “Our great lifespans, prior connections made with other races, expansive colonies, the high number of Aesir born to us, and of course, the Bifrost. Other races had those other things to some degree or another, but no one else had a Bifrost.”

“That’s the beam of light that brought me here, isn’t it?” You asked. “That’s the thing that brought Thor, uh, the king back and forth between Asgard and Earth, right?”

“The one that brought you here is but the palest reflection of what we once had.” Loki said. “But give it time, and we will rebuild it to be as great as it once was, perhaps even better. I’m not sure you will live that long though. Maybe, if we are lucky, I can show you another planet someday.”

It was a good thing you were sitting down. The very thought of being on another world was both terrifying and elating.

“W-where would you take me?” You asked. What worlds were out there?

“Probably here.” The image zoomed in and in, past galaxies, stars, and nebulae, to focus on a very green and cloudy planet with one large moon. “This is Vanaheim. It isn’t dissimilar to what your own planet used to be a few thousand years ago. Here is Midgard, for comparison.”

The familiar globe of the Earth popped up next to Vanaheim, and your eyes widened at the difference in size. You were vaguely aware the Earth was the largest terrestrial planet in your solar system, but you hadn’t realized how big that really meant. The little image loomed over Vanaheim, nearly twice as big, and with much larger oceans.

“The differences look great, but Vanaheim is very similar to Midgard in composition, atmosphere, and ecology. Look.” Again, the image zoomed in, blowing through thick clouds, dropping down among tall forests that looked like conifers, though you knew they could not be.

At ground level, there was a small clearing from which a village sprouted. People moved here and there, looking just like regular people that you might see every day.

“These are the Vanir.” Brunnhilde said, taking hold of the conversation again. “Let me start a bit earlier in our history. Asgard became a space-faring civilization very early on, and we expanded into the star system that would become ours quickly. We conquered Nornheim, the only terrestrial planet in the system.” She gestured to Loki, who brought up an image of a large, dry, stony world, nearly as large as Earth, but without any blue or green, nothing but rock.

“This was back in Buri’s day, mind, and the Bifrost had just been built. Invading the planet was a test of its power. Turned out there actually was a race of people who lived there. They were rocks, just like everything else on the planet, but they really, really didn’t like us being there. And just like that, we were at war. We took the planet, but the rock trolls wouldn’t surrender. So we experimented with the Bifrost once more, using it to remove the trolls from Nornheim, and sending them to the next planet we found. That turned out to be Vanaheim.”

“Good lord.” You said, appalled. “Why do all that in the first place?”

“Why do humans go to war?” Brunnhilde asked. “Not the fake reasons. Not religious or ethnic reasons, but the real, underlying reasons your ancestors always went to war?”

You thought for a moment, stripping away all the excuses, ideological differences, racial fears, age-old prejudices. What made the first man pick up a stone and smash the guy next to him?

“Resources.” You said. “Either need or greed, it’s all about what you can take from them.”

“You got it!” Brunnhilde said. “Buri was trying to build the foundations of Asgard and he needed as many mineral resources as he could get. And there was a whole planet of rocks, guarded only by rocks. So he took it.”

“Why not settle there?”

“Because it was just rocks! There was no water there, except in trace amounts in the atmosphere, and inside the rocks. No plants, no life other than the rock trolls. And Buri was obsessed with building an eternal realm for his people, from scratch. Before that, the pre-Asgardian people lived on fleets of ships, but most information from before they arrived in the Nornheim system and took over has been lost. No one knows where our ancestors first came from, and after Asgard was built, it was no longer considered important.

We mined Nornheim from then until very recently, and there was still plenty more left. It’s lost to us now. Perhaps new life will arise there again, who knows?

In any case, after the base of Asgard was built, we began looking outward again. The Bifrost allowed us to discover more worlds, and to rediscover Vanaheim. By that time, we’d actually forgotten about the whole banishing an entire species to a completely different realm thing, but the Vanir sure hadn’t!”

Nornheim disappeared, Earth disappeared, the wall of illusions focused back on Vanaheim and the Vanir.

“When we arrived, we hoped to take trees and topsoil back with us. But it turns out the Vanir had heard of us, from the mouths of a new enemy who had appeared suddenly to make war on them generations ago. And just like that, we were at war again.

The Vanir have always preferred to put down roots and stay where they are. We could have just left, and they would not have followed. But this was the reign of Borr, and Borr liked to conquer.”

You shuddered. It was a little disappointing to discover that the magical space gods ancestors had been just as bad as yours, and on a much larger scale.

“We lost.” Brunnhilde said.

“We didn’t win.” Loki corrected. “There’s a difference.”

The Valkyrie shrugged. “To Borr, a draw was as bad as a loss, because it was not a win.”

“Yes, he was rather rigid and uncomplicated like that.” Loki grumbled, as if embarrassed.

“This was your ancestor?” You asked.

“This was my grandfather.” He admitted.

“That recent?”

“It would not seem recent to you. And I never met the man. He died in war, long before any of us were born. A fitting end, I suppose.”

“It’s how he would have wanted to go, if he had ever expected to die.” Brunnhilde resumed. “The war ran long and fierce; neither the Vanir or Asgardians were very numerous at the time, but both were ferocious combatants. The Vanir are blessed with many of the strengths that our people once thought belonged only to them; long life, great strength, resilience, and so forth. And, to our great surprise, they had Aesir among them.”

“Those are gods, right?” The book had given that name to the gods, but hadn’t mentioned them belonging to different species.

“You would call them that, yeah. This was the first time we encountered them outside our own people, and it really threw us. Neither side could prove superior, so we had to try for peace instead.”

“Something Borr never tried again.” Loki interjected.

“Vanir custom demanded a trade of political hostages to ensure peace. From us, they gained Vili and Ve, Borr’s youngest sons. From them, we gained Njord and his children, Freya and Freyr.”

“So, they’re Vanir? Well no wonder they are on Vanaheim!”

“They come and go at their whims, now that we are allies” Loki said. “It’s better that they were there. Freya has a terrible temper, and while I would have personally loved to watch her punch Thanos in the face, I would not have liked to see her killed. I’ve never had anything against the twins.”

With a gesture, the trees and village swirled and coalesced into three incredibly beautiful individuals. A man who appeared to be closing in on middle age, decorated with seashells, his black hair attractively wind-blown. A gorgeous, voluptuous woman with a sword in her graceful hand, and a conspicuous golden necklace at her slender, tan throat. An extremely inviting young man with sparkling black eyes and a gentle smile, flowers in his tidy hair.

You reached out for him, without even realizing you were doing it. Your fingers passed right through, and Loki caught them on the other side, as the image dissipated around your hand.

“It’s just an illusion.” He said. “He’s not really here. A creature of base urges, are we?” He seemed annoyed.

Loki is skilled in the artifice of illusion, and he uses this to embellish his lies. So the book had said.

“Well, you made the illusion!” You said defensively.

“Oh, were you reaching for me?”

“No! I was just…” What had you been doing? You had just needed to try to touch the image of Freyr for some reason.

“Can it, your highness.” Brunnhilde interrupted, receiving a furious glare in return. “You know she couldn’t help it.”

“Is a simple image really so potent?”

“You’re Aesir, he doesn’t affect you in the same way. She’s mortal, and came from a land of grain. She was a baker, for the Norn’s sake! Of course even an image would affect her!”

“Why, please?” You asked above their rising voices. “I didn’t actually mean to do that. What happened?”

“Freyr is a fertility god.” Loki said dismissively. Oh yes, he was definitely annoyed. “He governs the cycle of crops, prosperity of all kinds, fruitfulness, and so on, and so forth. He and his retinue are associated with the baking of bread and animal slaughter; both as symbols of plenty, and as sacred offerings. You lived and worked in his domain, whether you knew it or not.”

His tone clearly indicated that he considered you weak for acting as you had, but his words sparked a pulse of pride. You had been doing, if not THE Lord’s work, then A Lord’s work.

“Oh, don’t look so smug. Fertility and prosperity gods are ridiculously common. They make up a huge percentage of Aesir across the universe. Coming under the influence of one or more is practically inevitable for mortal species.”

“You know, you asked me if I was ashamed of the work I did, or of ‘what I am’ was how you put it. And I’m not. My society really feels the need to consider poor people as less than dirt, and they take all the value away from low-paying jobs, but the thing is, those jobs are actually really important. All those jobs they say are for losers and failures are jobs that provide services that they desperately want. That they need even. Without those jobs and those workers, civilization would fall apart. What are you going to do without grocery stores? Or gas stations? Or sanitation workers? Or bakers?

The bad treatment did get to me. It gets to all of us who are in that situation, because we can see how wrong it is. But now I find out there’s a god somewhere in the universe who thinks bread is good and worth something, and surrounds himself with people like me. Why shouldn’t I be proud of that?”

“Oh, he’d like you.” Brunnhilde said.

Loki released your hand and crossed his arms. The illusion dropped away entirely.

“Anyway,” Brunnhilde continued as if nothing had happened. “We considered it safe to retreat back to Asgard at that point, and couldn’t do much invading for a while after that. But we did continue locating other planets across Yggdrasil. Some were empty, and we sent small groups to colonize them. Others were inhabited, but friendly. Borr conquered these through treaties and trade. But eventually, our army built back up. And then we located Svartalfheim. But before we go into that, would you like to take a break, to think about what you’ve already learned? It must be getting close to lunch time.”

“Yeah, actually.” You said, grateful for a small reprieve. Time to reflect on the information and ask questions without derailing the whole lesson would be welcome. So would the food. You wondered if you would ever stop feeling so hungry.

The three of you left the table as it was; according to Loki, no one would bother it for the rest of the day. You found yourself back in the side room off the banquet hall, enthusiastically tucking into a tasty lunch. At least the food was better than your budget usually allowed.

“So can you tell me more about the Aesir?” You asked.

Thor entered the room with a plate full of food.

“Specifically, why are there so many fertility gods?”

Thor immediately turned around and left.

“Coward!” Brunnhilde called after him. Loki snickered.

“Okay, what was that all about?” You asked. It was weird watching the mighty Thor retreat from a conversation.

“Oh, he’s just shy.” Brunnhilde said. “You know he’s a sky god, right? Lightning and thunder, storms?”

You nodded.

“And guess what else?”

“What, really? But I’m not drawn to touch him.”

“Eh, well, it’s kind of secondary to the thunder thing. He’s associated with the rains, but not the harvest. Freyr’s there from the beginning, to the end.”

“Gotta get me a man like that.” You mused.

Loki set his fork down just a bit harder than necessary.

“He’s married!” He exclaimed.

“Oh?” You asked, surprised that he seemed so scandalized. “To whom?”

Loki looked away from you, lips pressed into a thin line. Brunnhilde chuckled.

“A giant.” She answered.

“There’s giants?” You asked. Another kind of alien? How big could they get?

“That’s an entirely different lesson. You wanted to know about Aesir?”

You dug into a little cobbler of a blueberry-like fruit. They had called it bilberry. You called it delicious.

“Yes. So, are they just born at random, or what?”

“They can arise from any line, at any time.” Loki said. “We have recorded them in at least six of the ni-eight realms. But they do occur more commonly when there is at least one Aesir parent.”

“How do you know if you are one? You come out of the womb shooting lighting? Or does it at least wait until puberty?”

“Eh, it depends.” Brunnhilde said. “I assume they figured Heimdall out as soon as he opened his eyes. For others it’s a bit more subtle. But it gets figured out in the end.”

“But what causes it to happen in the first place?” You wondered. “This has presumably been going on for what, millions of years? When did it start? And why, and what keeps it going?”

“I’m sure every culture throughout time and space has their own mythos about it.” Loki said. “My personal theory is that it involves the infinity stones. Which just means that I’ll never get to test it.” He grumbled.

Brunnhilde stared at him.

“Do they have an affinity for magic?” You asked. “The king said they made up everything in the universe.”

“They could be considered magical. Certainly they come from a source beyond anyone’s total understanding. There are stones that correspond to concepts so nebulous as Power, and Reality. I don’t suppose it would be too far-fetched to think they could have influenced the creation of beings such as us.”

“Excuse me!” Brunnhilde interrupted, earning a disgruntled look from Loki, who seemed to have been really getting into his theory. “Why does she know about that?”

“I honestly have no idea.” You said. “I remember what happened, but nobody knows why.”

“Is it because you have magical potential?” She asked. “His majesty said you were learning sorcery.”

“I…don’t know? Is it?” You asked Loki, but he was already hurrying out the door to yell at his brother.

“I think I know how to tell which humans can learn sorcery! Thor! She said there was a whole forum of them!”

“Thank you, Brunnhilde! You’re so brilliant!” She called out after him. “Oh, thank you, I’m aware! But it’s nice to hear anyway!” She laughed, shaking her head. “Well, there goes my co-instructor. Come on, you want to go learn about Svartalfheim anyway?”

#lasabrjotr #loki x reader #loki (marvel)#thor (marvel)#Heimdall (Marvel)#brunnhilde (marvel)#valkyrie (marvel)#marvel fanfiction

14 notes · View notes

fanfictionized · 6 years

Text

Help Me Help You - Restless (4/?)

Character: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Reader / OFC

Chapter summary: Bucky and Steve talk about some old memories and Sam is being supportive of Bucky. Even though they’re not best friends he needs him to know that he’s not alone.

Warnings: None

Words: 1.7k

Previous Chapter // Help Me Help You - Masterlist

A/N: I’ve been reading a lot of good fanfic recently to help me get into the characters and how to properly portray them and @jaamesbbarnes, @bitsandbobsandstuff, @softlybarnes and @sgtjbuccky have been helping me a lot with the progress. If you’re looking for good writers you should definitely check them out!! All of them are absolutely amazing.

The next morning after another restless night he once again stumbled across Steve as he, yet again, brewed himself another coffee, pouring out one for him as well the moment Bucky’s door opened.

He scuffed over the stone tiles, dragging himself downstairs and onto the barstool across from Steve. They didn’t say a word. Never talked much to begin with, but somehow they always just knew enough without words. Bucky watched Steve as he ran a hand through his unkempt hair, tousled from tossing around all night. His friend looked happy. And he had an idea where this could be coming from.

“You know” Bucky started suggestively, his voice still heavy with sleep “You’re drinking a coffee every morning, yet you go to the coffee shop immediately after.” Steve’s grin only widened “It’s embarrassing enough that I had to know it from the Black Widow.” He added and made his friend roll his eyes.

“Natasha’s gossipy that way.” He sighed deeply “I guess I shouldn’t have brought that cup up with me. I swear, that woman sees everything.” He chuckled, but still his mood was still cheerful. Made Bucky smile, too. Even at quarter past six in the goddamn morning.

“I’m happy for you.” Bucky said and smiled back at him. “Thank you, Buck.” He let out a huff and shook his head, lost in thoughts. “You know” He began “This could be like old times. You teaching me how to talk to girls, telling me how to not scare them off.” Bucky let out a laugh as he thought back at it “But you would anyway.” He continued chuckling “You were always too damn nervous.” “I know! But what could I have done, huh? You were practically glued to my side and all the girls preferred sergeant Barnes.” Bucky gaped back at him, but thought about his words.

“Well” he sighed after a minute and shrugged “But look at you now, man. Captain America. The girls of New York must be throwing themselves at you, now that they have their Brooklyn boy back.”

Steve chuckled “I don’t know about that. I still feel the same.” “You are, Steve.” He paused, eyeing his best friend that had transformed into this god-like version. But he was still just the modest guy from next door.

“You are.” Bucky sighed deeply and took a sip steaming coffee. Steve looked him over. Dark circles under his eyes, stubble covering his cheeks and he could swear that his cheekbones stood out more prominently than a week before. Bucky wasn’t doing fine. They both knew it. He was glad to have signed him up for the next assignment. Even though it’s Hydra and even though he’s concerned about him. He’s just happy to have him back. Even though he’s the one who’s not who he used to be anymore. Steve’s trying not to hold onto the old Bucky, he knows he can never be the same again. But it’s moments like this where his best friend shimmers through layers of suppression, anger and guilt. And Steve is just happy for the times where he gets to feel like his old self again.

“Her name is Harper.” Steve tries to break the silence. “Oh? Harper, that’s nice.” He cleared his throat “She sounds like a nice girl.” Steve nodded. “A nice girl I will call if you don’t do it soon.” He added jokingly, but Steve got the message. “You are a fool, old man.” He said as Steve got up and placed his mug in the kitchen sink. He raised his brow as he grinned back at him “You know; you are a year older than me if I remember correctly.”

Bucky scoffed “We’re both over ninety, I think we’re even.” “Whatever you say, old man.” “Hey!” Bucky said before Steve got into the elevator “Call her, you idiot!” “Yeah, yeah…” Steve answered with a smirk before the doors closed on him.

Bucky continued to smile to himself even after Steve had left the tower. He was glad he was still enough of a part of his life to be able to see those episodes. Ladies, girlfriends and whatnot. Even though he didn’t need to babysit him through all of it. He was pretty happy about that part.

He thought back to his adventurous years. A faint blush appeared on his cheeks. God, no. He had been so young and naïve and frankly, a bully. He liked to think he wasn’t that anymore. But he knew that if he would ever like to come close to being that again, it’d take a lot of time and probably practice. Just… experiencing real life again to ease into it. Being normal or whatever it was that he was seeking.

He downed the rest of his black coffee, still holding the warmth of the empty mug in his hand. And a bit of detective work and probable well-meant killing should do the trick just fine.

***

Bucky was taking a long-needed shower when the still unfamiliar sound of the speaking system… or whatever it actually was, sounded.

“Sergeant Barnes?” Friday called and Bucky nearly lost his balance as rapidly as he turned around. It took him a second to understand the voice’s origin, but once he finally realized he let out a sigh of relief, running a hand through his dripping hair and pushing it back behind his ears. It was starting to get out of control, for sure.

“Yeah?” He rasped, shock still cloaking his throat. “Mr. Stark is requesting a meeting in the conference room. He has remarked that it is urgent and your presence there is mandatory.” Bucky let out a sound of frustration as he placed his head against the cooling tiles.

“When can he expect your arrival?” The female voice continued asking and Bucky groaned. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.” He answered and waited for her reply. “Excellent. I will tell him right away.” “Yeah…” He mumbled and wiped the shampoo off his face. He wasn’t quite sure if he could ever get used to that.

***

Minutes later he was throwing on some clothes, boxers, pants, socks… He was holding his shirt in his hands, the soft, red material hugging his skin, but he didn’t put it on. Not yet.

He was standing in his room, his big, empty room and staring back at him was his reflection in the mirror built into the closet. He caught himself, really. He saw nothing but a movement before this lonely figure appeared in front of him. A tired, broken version of a man and his hands that held the soft shirt lowered to get a better look at him.

He turned carefully, like he was facing a wild predator he didn’t want to upset by making some sudden movements it would not approve of. But it looked so scared for being the predator and it was. He had scars to prove it.

He finally turned to his left to reveal the shiny scar tissue winding around the shinier arm attached to it. He carefully touched it with his fingertips, felt the uneven skin, the bumps and scratches that had manifested themselves there a long time ago. Disgust rose up inside his stomach at the sight. His jaw clenched, the lighting showing off the shadows of his cheekbones prominently. He shook his head back at himself and put the shirt on, covering most of what Hydra had given him.

He thought of Wanda’s words; It’s never too late to do good. And even though he wanted to believe that too, it was really fucking hard to keep that in mind with something that bad being a part of him and reminding him every day of what he really was. He ran his fingers through his damp hair and sighed before heading off to the conference room.

“Hey, there.” A voice startled him as he closed his door behind him. Turning around, he spotted the Falcon, Sam Wilson, heading into the same direction of cause. He gave an affirmative nod in his direction and waited for him until he had reached his door. Politeness.

“Man, I cannot wait to finally get on with this case. I feel like I’ve been sitting on my ass for weeks now, you know what I mean?” He laughed as they walked towards the elevator together. Bucky buried his hands in his pockets. “I know.”

He felt Sam’s eyes on him “Yeah, right… Hey, uhm, how’s it going anyway? I know we don’t really talk a lot, but y’know… it’s still good to know you got a friend in here.” At that Bucky’s head turned to look at him “I guess. I’m… okay I think. Doing better at least. I think it just takes time.”

“Yeah, I get it. I mean, you’re still having nightmares, right?” Sam continued and a light bulb went off in Bucky’s head. They still heard the screaming at night. “God, I-I’m sorry…” “Hey, no worries man. Like you said, some things just take time.”

-Bing-

They both stepped in and even though Sam seemed to be at ease, Bucky wasn’t. He knew he shouldn’t give a damn about what they thought of him and generally he didn’t. Avoiding them did a marvelous job at helping there. But they knew about his issues and were reminded of them for at least five nights a week. He didn’t want to feel the way he did, but what was settling deep inside his stomach, curling inside and nestling into its home was embarrassment. He knew those things were hard to hide and avoid when you’re living together with a bunch of people, especially with the Avengers…

“If you ever need to talk” He felt a hand of his shoulder before the elevator door opened “You can come to me anytime, man.” He looked at Bucky with a smile, even though the man didn’t. Just had confusion and nervousness written all over his face. He patted his shoulder a few more times before they finally stepped outside, heading into the conference room where the rest of the group was already waiting for them.

Next Chapter

#Bucky Barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #help me help you

34 notes · View notes