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alessiasfreckles · 1 year ago

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amnesia - part 7 (ona batlle x alexia putellas x reader)

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6

a/n: a little look at how alexia and ona are doing. big thank you to @codiemarin for help with the plot!! she’s a lifesaver x

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At training the next day, Ona refused to look at Alexia. Her stomach churned whenever she heard the woman’s voice, and the guilt she felt about what had happened burned at the back of her throat.

Alexia understood her behaviour, but she couldn’t help but feel frustrated - after all, Ona was the one who had stormed in yesterday, all confused about her feelings. Alexia was well aware of her own feelings, she had been for a long time. She’d made peace with her feelings towards Ona before you’d even joined Barcelona, and then she’d made peace with her feelings towards you after you had. She had recognised the feelings, labelled them as silly little crushes that would never amount to anything, had put them in a box, never to be thought of again, and that was that.

At least, that had been that, until yesterday. Until Ona had come barrelling into the changing room, face flushed, an adorable, slightly confused scowl on her face, and had yelled at the captain. Now, the yelling part wouldn’t have phased her, but the bit that followed?

The way Ona had reached up and pulled her into a kiss had been playing in her mind on repeat, making Alexia feel weak at the knees. The way Ona’s lips felt against hers, angry and harsh but so, so soft, the way it had felt so right to finally kiss her, after waiting for so long.

When Ona had said it was a mistake, it couldn’t happen again, Alexia tried her hardest to ignore the way it felt like she was being stabbed, like her lungs were collapsing, like Ona had been her only source of oxygen. She had nodded, telling Ona that it would be okay, that you would be okay, that they would figure it out. She was the captain of the team, for fuck’s sake. She was better than this. She could handle this.

And as captain of the team, Alexia knew that having one of her players ignoring her wasn’t good for the team, regardless of what had happened between those players. So she did what any good captain would do, and messaged Ona.

[Alexia:] We need to talk about yesterday.

[Ona:] What’s there to talk about? I thought we were pretending it didn’t happen.

[Alexia:] Clearly not, since you wouldn’t even look at me today. Can we please talk about it?

[Ona:] Fine. Tomorrow? I can come early again.

---

Alexia’s leg bounced anxiously as she waited in the empty changing room. Ona had said she’d be there early, but Alexia wasn’t sure how early she meant, so she’d arrived 45 minutes before the others would start to arrive. After a few minutes of waiting, the door opened softly, a stark contrast to the way Ona had entered just a couple days before.

“Hi,” Ona said, still not meeting Alexia’s gaze. “You wanted to talk?”

“Will you at least come in and sit down?” Alexia asked. “I won’t bite.”

Pink rose to the brunette’s cheeks, and she nodded and sat down.

“Are you going to look at me today? Or are you going to keep ignoring me?”

Alexia’s voice had an edge to it, the way it did when she was speaking as captain rather than as another player or as a friend. Ona looked up, staring Alexia in the eyes.

“What do you want to talk about?” Ona asked, her voice measured.

A million questions raced through the captain’s head and she grasped on to the first one that came to mind. “How are you feeling?”

Ona let out a short laugh of disbelief. “How am I feeling? Really? You asked me to meet so that we could talk about how I’m feeling?”

Alexia frowned. “Si. A lot has happened lately and I care about you, I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“Ale…,” Ona sighed. “Okay, fine. I’m feeling like a mess. I feel awful and guilty and like the worst person ever for what I’ve done to Y/N, and I feel mixed up and confused about you, okay?”

“Oh,” Alexia said. She had been so caught up in her own thoughts and feelings that she hadn’t considered how Ona would be feeling about her, how what had happened would be affecting her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realise. Can I ask why you feel mixed up and confused about me?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I don’t- I don’t understand how I feel, I don’t understand what I’m feeling. I like you, but I’m not allowed to like you, I’m not meant to like you, I like Y/N- no, I love her, so I cannot like you!” Ona said, the words bursting out of her. She hadn’t realised how confused she was until she said it out loud. “And all I keep thinking about is that I want to kiss you and kiss Y/N and it’s not fair, but that’s just not how it works.”

Alexia leant back against the wall, heart aching. “No, I guess that’s not how it works. We can’t all be together. And you and Y/N were together first, so that’s that.”

“Exactly,” the brunette nodded. “That’s that. So please let me keep ignoring you for just a few days, until I’ve sorted out my feelings? That’s all I’m asking.”

“Yes, I- I’m sorry,” Alexia blushed. She felt foolish for not considering Ona’s feelings, for assuming she was the only one who was confused. “I’m sorry. Thank you for coming in and talking to me.”

“I’m going to go now, okay? I’ll see you in training, Ale,” Ona said. She suddenly felt exhausted, like she’d just played a full 90 minutes, but without the exhilaration that usually accompanied it. She just wanted to be alone for a while, to not have to answer to anyone.

She left without waiting for a reply from Alexia and headed straight into the gym, making a beeline for the treadmills. No matter how tired she was, running always helped her think, helped her clear her mind. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t stop thinking about Alexia and about you, so with a frustrated groan she decided to try and think of solutions instead.

And that’s when it hit her.

The night before, when she’d been at yours, you had mentioned Alexia. She froze when you said the captain’s name, terrified that somehow you knew what had happened, that you knew about them, and had been so focused on acting normally that she’d only half listened to what you were saying. Now though, it was coming back to her.

“So, uh, did you know that a lot of people think me and Ale are dating?” you’d said, off-handedly, like it was no big deal. And it wasn’t a big deal, you knew that.

“Hm?” Ona had responded, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah,” you laughed. “I saw some stuff online yesterday when I was looking myself up. Crazy, right?”

“Yeah, crazy.”

“I mean, she is super pretty, and obviously very very good at football - oh, actually, I found a journal entry I wrote when I first moved,” you casually interrupted yourself, as if you hadn’t been thinking about what to say and how to say it for hours before Ona had arrived. “And the two people I wrote about were you and Ale! It’s kind of funny, it seems like I had a crush on both of you, at the start?”

You’d held your breath, waiting for Ona’s reaction. You weren’t sure what you were hoping for, all you knew was that you couldn’t stop thinking about either of them. Maybe you just wanted to know if that was the kind of person you were, and maybe Ona would know.

Ona had glanced at you, cheeks faintly pink. “Really?”

“Yeah, I guess? I don’t know, did you ever notice anything that made you think I had a crush on her - or on you?” you asked, saying the last part in one quick breath.

“I’m not sure,” she’d shrugged. “I don’t really remember.”

“Oh, okay,” you’d said, trying not to let her notice the disappointment you were feeling.

Your words hit Ona like a brick wall, and she almost tripped over her own feet, momentarily forgetting where she was. She quickly turned the treadmill off and picked up her phone, starting to type out a message to Alexia.

[Ona:] What if we could all be together? What if there was a way to make it work?

Her finger hovered over the send button. Somewhere, a door slammed as her teammates started to arrive, making her jump. When she looked back down at her phone, the message had been sent.

[Alexia:] is typing…

[Alexia:] How?

#hannah writes fics #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle #ona batlle fanfic #ona batlle imagine #alexia putellas x reader #alexia x reader #alexia putellas fanfic #alexia putellas imagine #ona batlle x alexia putellas #alexia putellas x ona batlle #woso x reader #woso fanfic #woso fanfics #woso community #woso imagine

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ava-starrs-girlfriend · 1 month ago

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Calm Before the Storm

Werewolf!Bob/Reader

Summary: After a second Ava-sourced revelation, almost two weeks pass and the days are full of learning, training, and bonding. After some one-on-one time with Bucky, Lena, and Bob, you decide what's next.

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, Reader has a few sips. Brief descriptions of childhood abuse (vague but implied physical and mental/emotional).

A/N: I didn't even get to everything I wanted to in this chapter and I STILL wrote 7k words. Cheers for me!!! I also went back and re-read chapters 1-3 and made a couple grammar, wording, or spelling updates. Finally, you can now find these fics and my first one, Corner Store Sock Aisle Angel, linked in my pinned! Ok, now for the chapter :)

Previous part

Next part

~~*~~

Since you didn't know Ava well, you didnt think anyone could blame you for starting to believe she had awful timing or no delicate sense of putting things.

You had an idea, too, of what your magic might be related to. Now that it was a less mystifying concept to you that something was different about you, it became easier to put things together.

But what it *meant*? What did *that* mean?

You set the plate down on top of the others. And you asked her.

"What do you mean, what it means?"

With that, she grabbed your arm and the light and sounds of the water running and Bob's scrubbing warped. Your stomach felt like it was literally twisting.

What must have been only a second later, but felt like ages, somehow, you were somewhere... completely different.

And you were about to get a crash course in witchcraft.

~*~

The first experience of Ava's shadow-walking was awful, and so were the next few times, but the teleportation was handy. And she learned to warn you but never really asked before warping you away from wherever you happened to be.

You learned that Ava was mostly just excited to have another witch to talk to, to share with. It seemed an important part of witchcraft, to share magic with someone, even if they practiced a different kind to you.

Really, you learned a lot over the next few days, about witchcraft and magic.

You were, as Ava did finally have some elegance of putting, a witch of storms.

Apparently, in addition, that meant that you were the best equipped, outside of Oracles, to tell the future and receive visions of it.

"And Oracles are... witches."

"They cover a multitude of si- subjects, subjects," Alex nodded. He lifted his fists, and beckoned you to try again.

In addition to your lessons with Ava, Alex and Lena insisted you also know how to defend yourself, if things ever came up so that your magic ability was blocked.

Mostly it meant you landing flat on your ass on the mulch floor of a sparring ring. There was a clearing past the garage, where there were archery targets, old punching bags hanging from beams that were stronger than they looked, and crates that you'd only gotten to peak into.

This attempt, you were able to land a blow to Alex's stomach, but he didnt flinch before lifting you back and dropping you so that once again your view was the cloudy sky.

"You're takin' a risk," you muttered.

"I dont see any risk, do you, Lena?" Alex asked.

Lena released the bolt from her crossbow, aimed at the archery target. She nodded as you heard the thud even from your place on the ground.

"No risk anywhere," she said casually.

You sighed.

"Maybe- maybe I could at least try against her, for once?" You asked, sitting up and barely brushing yourself off this time. You knew you'd probably land right back in the dirt.

Lena laughed, but put down her crossbow and shrugged off the light hoodie she was wearing, revealing a tank top underneath. Her arms were more muscular than you expected. Maybe you should have stuck with Alex.

"Sure, maybe that will help."

Too late.

The sarcasm rolled through her words, but Alex helped you up and patted your back. "Fight rough," he muttered, surprisingly close. And it wasnt in Russian, which you had learned he and Lena spoke, nor was it English.

It was the language Ava now knew you had grown up hearing from your grandmother, the language that witches taught each other.

Lena frowned, but didnt linger on the moment.

Maybe Alex was right. It would be nice to finally land something.

You'd seen Lena and Ava fight, when you'd complained to Alex that Ava didnt have to spar.

Bob had spoken up, then. "We all get our asses handed to us. Alex is right, you need to know this. Learning means more practice."

Before you could think about how it felt, to have Bob be a little bossy, Lena was moving her feet.

But so did you. You dodged her first blow, but her other hand got your shoulder.

You groaned and wanted to drop your knee, and give up.

Or maybe you could drop your knee and lift Lena up like Alex had lifted you.

You tried it, dropping quickly and, in the moment Lena inhaled to laugh, you pushed your shoulder up into her stomach, hand on her hip and her waist, grunting as you lifted her into the air.

A little breeze flowed along your arms. It was reassurance, confidence. This was right. Lena left your hands, flying in the air away from you.

This time, it was Lena who landed with a thud in the mulch.

You rubbed your shoulder, but felt the breeze again on your neck.

'Nice,' you thought, helping Lena up.

"That was very cool," she said and grinned. "Well done! Now, again."

"Again?"

"Repeat it, yes, if you can." She affirmed. "Fear not the man who has tried a thousand kicks once, but the man who's done one kick a thousand times." She slapped your shoulder, the one she'd hit, and gave you a thumbs up before getting back into her starting position.

You were going to hurt tomorrow.

~*~

"Do you have any plans tonight?" Bucky asked you after dinner.

You'd been at the cabin just over a week now. Long forgotten was the idea that Lena (or, technically, Yelena, apparently) implied that you'd only be with them for a night.

After that first weekend, you sent an email to your boss asking for some time off for a family circumstance. While you didnt know if you'd quite go back to that life from before, it was worth at least trying to give a heads up.

But every day, the life you led before seemed miles and miles farther away. You didnt quite understand how this place was run- how Bob owned the property, or paid the bills, or how Alex and Lena brought back groceries- but it was working.

And for the first time since your Grandmother had passed, you felt like you had family again. Even though you arrived as a stranger, this place was... beginning to be home.

Would you stay?

"Not beside a shower," you told him as you handed him a washed bowl to dry. "Why?"

He shrugged. "You've gotten time with everyone else. Figured you might... have questions for me."

You hadnt gotten as much time with Bob as you had wanted, usually ending up in the workshop or in the training grounds, but every spare moment when you didnt have anything to do, you had tried to find him. Usually you could.

But you did have questions for Bucky, too. About himself, and about vamprisim. Whenever you'd asked any of the others, they would hesitate and suggest you ask Bucky.

Bucky had a sort or presence, though, that didnt make you seek him out.

He was always watching the training you did with Lena and Alex, and he was somehow always finding excuses to drop in on you and Ava in the workshop.

The cold stillness around him felt wrong.

You had, at this point, begun to better feel the air currents around you. Like you couldnt help but notice now, continuously surprised you never noticed before. The pressure change before storms- manufactured or natural. Where the wind would turn.

Like feeling a breeze, a coldfront, before you could see it.

So not being able to feel anything of that around Bucky was... weird.

"I have a few."

"You too tired to stay up for a bit?" He glanced at you, and there was something in his voice that was almost alluring.

"A bit, huh."

He shrugged.

Once you'd finished putting all the clean dishes away, he gestured toward the glass wall's door and you led the way through it.

"Im thinking a little off-roading," Bucky said once you were outside. He stretched a little in the dusky light.

"You mean on one of the trails?"

"That wouldnt be very "off"-road-y," he said.

"Oh. Um, well, i should get my other shoes, then," you said, and gestured to your sandals.

"I'll wait," he said, and leaned against the railing, his hip against the top of it. He crossed his arms as he watched you walk away, toward your cabin.

His gaze was very distinct. Sometimes it still made you shiver.

You emerged from your cabin a moment later, with more proper attire for what you expected.

"Jeez, we're not bouldering," he said, rolling his eyes at you.

You'd changed into your sturdiest pair of leggings, your hiking boots, and a hooded jacket over a tanktop. You shrugged. "Maybe share a little more in your communication, dude."

Bucky looked you over once more and then turned, gesturing for you to follow. "C'mon."

There was a feeling in your gut that maybe you shouldnt be alone with him. He hadnt threatened you, even indirectly, since that first moment you'd met him a week ago.

But just as much as Bob was a werewolf, Bucky was something other-human, too. All of these people were still unfamiliar territory. All of them could still pull surprises out at you.

So you had a guard up.

Just in case.

Entering the woods made the sun's warmth almost immediately disappear, or maybe it was that you were walking closer to Bucky in order not to lose him in the shadows of the trees. You didnt know what kind of powers he had as a vampire, if any.

You *had* seen him standing shirtless in broad daylight, only wearing sunglasses and shorts as he carried groceries inside a couple days ago. So he didnt burn in the classic way.

"You know, you can ask, whatever you want, now," Bucky said ahead of you.

"Why'd you take me out here to chat?" Was your first question.

He glanced back at you and then off to the distance, slowing his paces.

"It's become my element, i guess," he said. "Like Ava's is her workshop and the hunters' is their clearing."

"So you grew up in a place like this?"

He laughed. "Hell no. No, i grew up in a city."

"Which one?"

"New York," he said after a moment. Like he wasn't sure if he should tell you.

"Oh, fun," you said, stepping over a log, ignoring the hand he held out for you to take for balance. "You ever been back?"

"Yeah," he said, but this time it was layered in annoyance. "Yeah. Family events."

"Your family's alive?"

He glanced at you again, uncertain. Then, "My vampire lineage family."

"Oh."

He shrugged. "Can't quite ever get out of blood family."

"I mean, if theyre all dead, you can," you said, and chuckled to yourself.

"What?"

"Vampires are dead."

He stopped and squinted at you.

"Arent they?" You asked as you stopped next to him.

He sighed.

"You dont breathe, you dont eat, you most definitely consume blood," you counted off your fingers. "You dont burn in the sunlight, at least not in any way i noticed, but you're definitely fast and strong."

He didnt comment.

"I imagine you either dont see me as a threat or wouldnt be any more harmed by a sharp stick to the chest like a normal person would be," you gestured to the various sticks littering the ground around you. "So... Can you turn into a bat?"

"Thats your first question?"

"It's, like, my seventh," you looked up as you tried to recall your conversation, ticking off the questions you could remember on your fingers. When you looked at the vampire again, he looked confused. "What?"

"You asked about me."

Now you were confused. You put a hand on your hip. "Yeah? Because we're bonding, dude. Cant bond without knowing each other a little. Ive been assuming a lot about you, sure, but more related to what the- what media says about vampires. You're a guy first. With history. I'm curious about all of it, i guess, but I can learn about vampire stuff from any vampire, if i ever meet another. I cant meet another you."

He shifted his weight, looking to the ground.

"You did avoid the "Can you turn into a bat" question though."

"What kind of bat are you expecting?"

"I dunno. A... brown... one?"

He smirked, and he seemed to be back to the guy you were more familiar with, sitting at the supper table. "Very precise."

"I'll have you know I'm not a wildlife expert, ok?"

Bucky hummed and returned to forging the way for you.

As you followed, you decided to ask something else. "Alright, how can you not burn in the daylight?"

~*~

The shower water ran over your body, cleaning off the day's sweat and dirt. You'd worked hard.

After days of practice, you'd been able to be consistent with a few moves against Lena and Alex, and practiced overturning their various defences.

You hadnt felt stronger in your life. More confident in your control of your body.

And you'd made progress with Ava, keeping up with her trivia and impressing her with your handle on your witchcraft.

The steam covered the bathroom mirror as you stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around you. You reached forward and cleared off the condensation on the glass, and almost dropped your towel as you stumbled back.

It wasn't you in the reflection of the mirror. It was stranger. A man.

He was tall, with red hair. A blue uniform outfit, with a few red stripes crossing his chest horizontally. He wore gloves on his hands and his eyes were... they were very blue.

He stared at you.

You stared back.

"Guard yourself," he said, as you reached forward to wipe the condensation again. "Guard yourself."

And he disappeared, leaving your shocked face in the mirror.

You wanted to cover the mirror with a towel, but didnt have a spare, so you changed into your pajamas in the shower stall, away from the view of the mirror.

"That was creepy," you muttered to yourself as you checked your locks on the windows and doors of the cabin. "And from what? Like, ok, way to be vague as hell??"

You tried to settle in on the couch and read the collection of tales Alex had suggested, but the hair on the back of your neck would not go down; the goosebumps on your arms firmly raised.

Ava had begun to teach you about reaching out toward her, but more the what and not how.

You needed reassurance, though. You needed answers.

You didnt really want to open your cabin door... but Bob was just next door.

You threw on a clean hoodie and your sandals and opened your door, locking it behind you, your key in your pocket with your phone.

You hurried over to Bob's cabin and knocked on his door. A moment later, the door was open, warm light shining out, comfortable air settling around you like armor.

"Yeah?" He asked, tired, opening it to you. He sniffed.

You'd begun to get used to that.

Bob's eyes widened and suddenly he was alert and awake. He pulled you in to his cabin and locked the door. "Are you ok??"

"Im- im fine, just-"

"You saw something."

"How'd you know?"

"You smell really scared."

"I-!" You sighed. "Im not *reeeally* scared," you said and plopped down on his couch. "Just. A little unsettled, or whatever."

"Sure," he said, unconvinced, and sat at the other end of the couch, one knee pulled up to his chest, the other hanging over the edge of the couch cushion. He put his hands on his calf. "Whats up?"

Suddenly you felt incredibly foolish. It had probably just been nothing, or a vision that you didnt know how to handle yet. Now you'd bothered Bob, who... well, you werent sure what he was in the middle of, but he had to have been in the middle of something. A laptop was slightly open on his coffee table, and an empty beer bottle on the side table.

"You know... it was probably nothing," you began to get up.

He reached across the couch, hand on your wrist. He looked you straight in the eye. "It wasnt nothing."

"What, do you have visions too?" You rolled your eyes, trying to make it lighthearted.

"Scents are good enough for me," he said, letting go of you and settling back just as quickly as he'd moved forward. "I just... i can tell."

"How?"

He shifted, fidgeting with his hands. "The- you smelled different."

"I just showered."

"Beside that."

"I... was a little scared?"

"Other than that."

"What else could there be?"

"You saw something, it, um. Lingered."

You sat up straight as if he'd just told you there was a spider in your hair.

He leaned forward and waved his hand. "It's not a presence, or anything! You're good."

"Can you just say what you mean?"

Bob looked anywhere but you.

You remembered back to the first conversation you'd seen between Bucky and Bob. That Bucky had brought a threat to the cabin. Bob didnt seem to be one to hold grudges for long, so you guessed now that it was recent. Maybe not as recent as the last person to have been in your cabin, but still recent enough to make him hesitant.

"The guy i saw. You know him."

He scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah."

"You could smell him??"

"Yep."

You leaned back into the corner of the couch. "Huh. Wild."

He looked up, his face unsure if it wanted to smile or frown. "Wild?"

"I really do love learning something new every day," you tried to explain. "Hey, but, I'm ok, obviously. So its no big deal, right?"

"The only way he would have had any presence here was if he- was if it was an oracle."

"But im not an oracle."

"No."

"Then how...?"

He sighed. "He forced one to make contact with you."

"Thats a thing??"

"Anything can be used against anyone's will," Bob said, like he'd experienced it. "Look. It really is something we should probably leave until the morning to discuss with the others." He got up from the couch, closing his laptop and going to the stairs.

"So... goodnight?"

"No," he shook his head. "Wait there."

You waited. You didnt know what else to do.

He came back down from the bedroom up in the loft with a blanket and a pillow.

"I'm gonna crash on your couch."

"You- you dont have to," you said, rising from your seat. "I promise, im ok."

"Ok, but i sleep really deeply and you wont be able to get me to open my door if you decide you need company."

You looked at him, holding his blanked and pillow, fully prepared for an unplanned sleepover.

You thought about having him in your cabin. You didnt know if there were any sort of side effects to the oracle thing.

"It... might be a good idea if you come with, i think," you said slowly. "Just in case."

He nodded and followed you to the door, turning off the lights and locking the closed door behind you as you stepped back out into the night.

"Ok?" He asked.

You nodded and he followed you to your cabin, entering with you and waiting for permission to get settled on the couch.

"Let me just..." you cleared off the cushions, holding a couple books and a potato chip bag. You brushed off any crumbs. "Sorry..."

"No worries," he said easily as you put the books away on their shelves and the chips in the kitchenette/storage area.

When you came back out to the front room, he was setting down his pillow and fluffing it.

"Thanks," you said. "For, um. Answering your door."

"Always," he said, glancing over at you. You hadnt needed him to before, but you knew he would keep the promise if that ever changed.

Once he was settled, you checked the door to make sure it was locked, and turned off the lights.

"Goodnight, Bob," you said as you went to the stairs.

"Goodnight," he answered, and yawned.

As you got into bed, you realized you felt safer with him so close by. You turned off the lamp on your bedside table and pulled up the blankets, settling in. A thought of him being even closer than downstairs crossed your mind, but you were yawning and closing your eyes before you could process it.

At least you hoped.

For a little while, you were caught up in thinking about the training you'd been learning, both magic and physical. The joke Lena had said that now you finally had a comeback for. The nice shower cleaning off todays dirt.

And then... the mirror. The man.

For the first time since you'd arrived, you couldnt sleep. You tossed and turned, sighing when nothing felt right. Even with your bones feeling heavy and tired, your mind wouldnt quiet enough to let you relax.

And since you were awake, you got thirsty.

You waited as long as you could. But, like when its too cold or too hot to sleep, you just couldnt ignore it.

As quietly as you could, you got out of your bed and nearly tip-toed down the stairs, keeping an eye on the couch.

You got a glass of water from the sink in the kitchenette, the need finally relieved.

Then you had to use the bathroom, because you might as well.

You refilled the glass to take upstairs, and when you stepped into the hallway, you saw Bob sitting up, rubbing his eyes.

"You ok?" He asked.

"Haven't gotten to sleep yet," you shrugged. "I'm, um, gonna try again, though."

"Good," he smiled.

You really wanted to run your fingers through his messy hair. It was a thought you had often, but his hair was particularly messy right then.

You turned away to avoid reaching out and bothering him.

But before you could go up two steps, you stopped.

You closed your eyes and for a split second, you tried to envision the future of this moment.

On the one path, you went to bed again. You wouldnt sleep well.

On another, you stayed downstairs and just... talked with Bob. You couldnt see far enough to tell if you eventually went back to bed, but the warmth of that path was far nicer than the dark stillness upstairs.

"Do you mind if i-" you turned to look at him, and he smiled, gesturing to the couch.

"Sure."

You walked to the couch, waited until he moved the blanket, and sat.

And then he waited for you. You stared at the glass in your hands, unsure of where to start.

He turned and reached behind himself, reaching for the lamp on the end table. He pulled the string and then there was a new, warm light in the room.

"May as well," he shrugged, turning back to you.

You nodded, and your gaze returned to the glass in your hands. Your feet were still on the floor, as if you werent allowed to get comfortable.

He leaned forward. "Hey, can i tell you a dumb story?"

You repeated something Lena had said earlier in the week. "You've probably got plenty of those."

He chuckled and raised his hands. "Sure do."

His break of your tension released a breath you'd been holding. "I'd like to hear it, though."

"Great," he shifted so his back was against the back cushion of the couch.

You didnt want to let go of the glass quite yet, still needing something in your hands.

He lifted the edge of his blanket, inviting you into comfort.

You took it. You crossed your legs to sit next to him, knee almost touching his leg.

"I was sixteen," he started.

"So, last year?"

He laughed, like he'd never heard it before. "Right, of course. Anyway, when I was sixteen, i was with this group of losers, 'cause thats what we were. I'd run away from my family, feeling, you know, unappreciated, or whatever. And there was this girl."

"Ooo," you teased.

"She was cute! Being sixteen, and thinking, hey, i'm forging my life, right? Im the coolest. I can impress her, easy." He scoffed. "Well, she wanted this dress from this place we'd walked by earlier. And of course, none of us had money, and we all teased her for even admiring something like that. It was... it looked like a lot of what we'd all left behind." His gaze was far away, smiling as he remembered. He looked at you, then. Pulling himself back to the moment of now. "Guess what i did."

"You... made something similar for her?"

"No," he shook his head. "I stole it."

For some reason, you'd formed an idea of Bob as a rule-follower. Maybe it was his even, steady mood that you'd gotten familiar with, or his reserved additions to conversation. But he was in charge, too. He was a planner. He knew best out of everyone what the rules were- he'd made them- and how to break them.

"Did you get caught?"

"Of course not."

"Really?"

"Really. I got the dress for her, and gave it to her. Didnt do super well with the delivery, though, because she, uh..." he scratched the back of his neck. "She thought someone else did it."

"No glory, huh."

"Nope. She started going out with the guy who claimed he'd done it, and even when I asked him how he did it, he made it so much more dramatic that I just... gave up about it." He sighed, thinking about the memory.

"What happened to the group?"

"We disbanded a couple weeks later. Turned out that most of them actually wanted to complete a high-school education, and their parents were far richer than they'd let on."

Caught up in his story, you asked, "What'd you do?"

He shifted again, shoulders carefully lowering and back straightening.

"You dont have to talk about it, if you dont want to," you said, leaning back, away from pressuring him.

"I went back to my family. Which at this point, was my pack. I mean, they-" he cleared his throat, eyes far from yours. "So i wouldnt leave again, that's when I became a werewolf."

"Oh. I... guess i thought you were turned... earlier than that." You didnt elaborate on when.

He shrugged, picking at fuzz on the blanket. "They were the ones who took me in in the first place. My dad," he laughed. "My dad left me for dead at a campground on a full moon. I was maybe five?"

"Damn."

"Yeah," he said, and sighed. "So i knew the wolf pack for a while. There were just as bad as my dad, though."

"You dont have to tell me this, Bob," you reached out, finally, putting your hand on his forearm. "I mean, really, if its not a good memory-"

"Pasts are good and bad, though, arent they?" He met your eyes. "I've got no intention of leaving this place, this family. And you know you're welcome to stay, too. So you're a part of that. And i dont share now, then i'll share another time."

"Another time is ok, if you want?"

"I need you to know now, though," his voice was pained. "I'm- I'm a sharing guy. I w- I want you to know. So you can decide. Stay or go."

It was more than just this moment of his vulnerability.

You'd been getting plenty of time getting to know the others, hell, even Bucky, who's whole vibe freaked you out. You knew some of Alex's past, and some of Lena's, although she shared hers over a couple glasses of wine. Ava shared her story as she shared her knowledge with you, carefully and with reverence, but with full honesty.

This was important for Bob to share, too. So you knew who you were choosing to stay with.

He had your full attention as you set the glass on the coffee table. "Ok." You folded your hands in your lap.

He took a moment to decide where exactly to start. "They were family, the wolf pack. I believed that my dad would be even worse to me if I ever ran away from them, like, really ran away. So they did a lot of things. And since I was human, i could do things they couldnt. And I couldnt do things, like defend myself, when they hurt me. It was... not great."

You nodded.

"So when I came back, after that summer of learning to, i guess, be my own person, instead of being their punching bag, well, I wanted things to change," he winced as he recalled something. "Dumb idea."

You wanted to interupt and call him brave instead. For standing up for himself, even if he went back to a dangerous place, it was all he had. Teenage years are tough.

"Probably the worst month of my life. And when it was finally the full moon... they took me with them."

He was doing well in staying steady with his retelling, but this is where his voice shook.

"First time's always the worst," he said. "I wish i didnt remember all of it as well as I do."

"What happened?"

"We hunted. And then we- God, we-" he cleared his throat and moved his shoulders back again, and he tried to leave the emotions of the story behind. "We attacked people. Not animals, people. And then thats what full moons became. Instead of me staying behind, terrified for them to come back angry and riled up and covered in blood, i was the one covered in blood. But i wasnt afraid of it, i was finally a part of something. They bullied me less. I was finally a real part of the pack. I felt... invincible."

He rubbed his eyes. "That didnt last." Hands back in his lap, he rubbed his thumb over his other hand's palm. "The pack was attacked, just as severely as we'd attacked people. So i ran again, but now I had this other thing i was running with. This other part of me that demanded... a lot. And I knew how to get what I wanted, too."

Bob glanced at you, unsure of your reaction.

Mostly, you'd just been taking in the information of his past, his story. You tried not to react, with gasps of shock or horror, or reach out to him. But your heart hurt for him.

"It was like that a couple years, running, always moving, and always alone. Until i quite literally ran into Bucky, and he somehow figured out all these things about me, and he told me i could stop running, start building something. Myself, a family, i don't know what exactly he meant. But i listened. Because I needed to." He lifted his hands as if to gesture he was done with the story. "So... thats me."

"Thanks for telling me," you said, before the moment could fade. "Really." You didnt want to overdo your gratitude for his vulnerability, but finally, you felt certainty.

"Sure. I just needed you to know."

"I want to stay," you spoke barely after he finished speaking. "I want to stay."

"Really?"

You loved the way his eyes lit up. If he had the canine ears, you just knew they would have perked up, too.

"Yes," you nodded. "I still have a lot i need to learn, but I also just... I feel like this is the place where I belong." You almost added "for now, anyway" but you didnt want it to be temporary. You wanted it to last, this place, the friendships you'd begun to build, the trust placed here. You wanted to hold on to it.

And the oracle you'd seen in the mirror hours ago was long forgotten.

~*~

In the morning, the couch was empty.

Your brows knit together as you got ready to head up to the main cabin for breakfast. Had last night just been some crazy dream?

After he'd shared his past with you, you shared some of yours with Bob. Though not really as dramatic, you shared a little about growing up with your grandmother and laughed each time you realized she'd done magic or you'd caused something on accident. You talked for hours with him, ending up talking about nothing and anything. Before you'd gone back up to bed, you'd sat shoulder to shoulder with him as he showed you pictures on his phone of one of his latest woodworking projects.

He said he'd make you something. As you wandered up the walkway, you wondered what he would make you.

You opened the glass door and smelled bacon. Alex and Lena were busy as Ava was setting the table.

Bucky followed you inside and chuckled as he passed you.

"What?"

"Nothing," he said, clearly meaning something.

You rolled your eyes and made your way to Alex and Lena, who piled food onto your plate.

"Morning," you greeted them.

"Good morning, my friend!" Alex said. Was he never not in a good mood?

Ava was sitting in your usual spot, so instead you sat in hers.

"Almost the new moon," Ava said, eyes glinting with excitement. "Lots of things to cover."

You hummed as you chewed some bacon, and you didnt have to look up to know Bob was approaching the house.

"Morning, guys," he said as he entered, and you smiled as you caught his eye.

Ava hummed, and you snapped your head to her.

She giggled and raised her eyebrows.

"What?"

"Bob went for a run."

"Is he not allowed?"

She just giggled again and then you realized she swapped places with you on purpose.

"Why are you being weird?"

"Its in my nature," she shrugged, and leaned forward to prop her chin in her hand, elbow on the table, as Bob sat just next to you.

"Oh!" He said, looking at Ava first, then you. "Hi."

"Hey," you answered, and suddenly felt so incredibly stupid as butterflies started fluttering in your stomach. The nerves made it hard to eat, but Lena's stern look was a lot stronger.

~*~

Regardless of whatever she thought had happened that night, Ava pushed you to learn how to properly set things up for the new moon. The phases of the moon were incredibly important to her and her witchcraft, which had something to do with shadows. Naturally, the largest natural shadow cast upon something celestial was a big deal. You could only imagine how she'd react to total solar eclipses, or lunar ones.

"Have fun?" Lena asked, pouring you a glass of wine. It had become your habit, sharing a little something to drink at the end of a long day.

"I guess," you shrugged.

"Lots of actual stuff to do, on top of the theory and history, hmm?"

You nodded and took a sip of the sweet wine. "Yeah. But hey, I think I know more knots than boy scouts now."

She laughed.

After a moment, she said, "So you and Bob."

You choked, setting your glass down carefully. "What?"

"He told you his story?"

"Yeah?"

"Get all weepy about it?"

"No?"

She nodded. "Didnt think you would."

"Why are you asking?"

"Because he told me today. You saw something that scared you, couldnt sleep, kept you company." She shrugged. "No big deal."

"Right. Of course."

She gave you a side-eye look of suspicion before taking a sip of her wine. "Good. And youre staying?"

"Yeah... although I'm not sure about my job."

"Can you work remote? Isnt it an office job?"

"I could, i guess, but I'd probably have to go back for important meetings and stuff."

"We can drive you. Or you can drive, whatever," she waved her hand. "They'd be stupid to lose you. Youre a good person."

"My job isnt really about if im a good person or not. But they probably miss me because of how much i get done."

"See? Thats not something they want to lose!" She pointed at you and smiled. "Thats settled. You email them tomorrow, tell them."

You shivered, putting your hands under your thighs.

"Why are you nervous?"

"Its a big deal."

She turned to you, facing you directly, and squared her shoulders. "You made a promise."

You wanted to keep it.

So you nodded.

She reached across the counter and squeezed your hands. "There. Good."

~*~

Two mornings later, dreary from staying up late with Ava, you found a letter under your door.

It was from Bob.

"Hi,

I hope your new moon stuff with Ava goes well.

I've got some things I've gotta do. I'll be away a few days.

Be back soon.

Bob"

"Ok?" You muttered to yourself. You folded it back to the way it was and tucked it into your jeans pocket.

After breakfast, Lena pulled you aside.

"What's up?" You asked her. "We're still going to the lake tonight, right?"

"The paper in your pocket, is it a letter? From Bob?"

You stepped back. "Um. Yeah?"

"Ava!" She shouted, causing Ava to almost drop the dishes she was carrying. "How long do you have until the moon?"

"Yelena!" Ava groaned.

"I need- just a bit."

"Fine. But you'd better not be late," Ava pointed at you.

You barely had time to give her a thumbs up before Lena dragged you out of the kitchen.

"Why are we headed to the lake now?" You asked once her steps had slowed.

"Private."

"Ok??" You rolled your eyes at the lack of explanation.

Once you reached the beach, she stopped.

"What is with you?" You asked her.

"The letter from Bob. He'll be away a few days?"

"Yeah?" You crossed your arms over your chest. "How do you even know that?"

"He used to leave *me* notes."

You didnt know why that stirred jealousy in your gut. She said *used* to, what that have to do with now?

"So?"

"Because-" she glanced up toward the cabin. "We were together."

"I- Bob and I are not a thing."

"Only Alex is this oblivious." She groaned, hands into fists as they fell to her side, then lifted right back up toward you, palms flat. "He is head over heels for you."

"I barely know him."

"That doesnt matter, not to him," she said. "And, he told you his story, and he said you didnt even blink. You just accepted him."

"Well- yeah? I mean, because-"

"Why?"

You opened your mouth to answer, but you didnt have words yet. You didnt know.

"You dont have to feel the same way," Lena said gently. "But if you dont, you have *got* to tell him. Because I- I thought he hated me when I took months to decide. He's too good to have waiting."

"How do you know?"

"I- when we first got together, he- felt like a lot? But i thought that was just part of romantic relationships. We never did anything i didnt want to, but... the sweetness he shared, i just, didnt know how to give back to him." She put her hands on her hips. "So i finally told him. And, he wasnt mad, of course, but I felt like I'd never be friends with him again, and I really wanted that."

"You seem pretty close," you offered.

"We are. Best friends again," she grinned, like that friendship was the thing she held most dear. "But he- before you were even in the picture, I just knew he was looking for something, someone. And then he'd be off for even a week at a time. He never did that."

"But he's gone right now?"

Lena shook her head and cut the air with her hands. "No, no. Very different." She sighed. "When Alexei and I saw you, I just knew."

"What??" You asked, finally annoyed. "What the hell did you know?"

"He was hoping we'd bring you with us."

"Is that why you acted like you hated me that night?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Because I finally knew where I was with him, and I didnt want to lose that."

You frowned. "I've been here less than two weeks, Lena. How could I possibly challenge your friendship with him?"

She groaned. "I dont know."

"Do you still hate me?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because he asked me not to. He told- he told me to just trust him, so i did. And i will. And so now im trusting you."

You werent sure she even trusted Bucky.

"He doesnt want to scare you with- how he followed you, to make sure that he wouldnt bring home any danger," she explained. "But you mean a lot to him."

At this point, you werent really surprised. Bob had all but confessed as much the first night you'd met him.

"I'm not scared."

And you werent. You looked out over the lake, a view you'd grown familiar with, but always in a way of worry that you'd have to leave it.

You'd seen just a few sunsets over this lake, but you knew you'd see many more. Thousands more.

As if watching a dream, you saw yourself sitting on the sand, and then Bob coming to sit next to you, his hand behind your back so you could lean against him. Natural, without speaking, like you'd done those motions together a thousand times.

Walking one of the trails, nearly bumping into each other for how close you were. Reaching to hold his hand so that the awkwardness lifted, and your steps became synchronized.

Cooking a dinner for the family, moving easily around each other as you kept things from burning.

And fighting alongside each other, shoulder to shoulder. Wind following your movements, never worrying about your back- the wolf had it, just as you had his.

Your future was with his. His was with you.

You could see finally see it.

~~*~~

Taglist: (let me know if you want to be added or removed!) @foreverchangingmind @jason-todd-fangirl-14 @imthatone-annoyingfriend @mandoalorian @melancholiast-clair @qardasngan

#thunderbolts #thunderbolts*#thunderbolts fanfic #thunderbolts* fanfic #bob reynolds x reader #bob reynolds #bob reynolds/you #bob reynolds x you #bob reynolds/reader #bob thunderbolts #bob reynolds thunderbolts #yelena belova #alexei shostakov #bucky barnes #ava starr #fanfic #my writing #my fic

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scarscribblesstuff · 3 months ago

Text

Smile for me Dear

Fandom: Redacted Audio

Characters: Lasko, Dear

Pairings: Lasko/Dear

Song: https://open.spotify.com/track/5NGtFXVpXSvwunEIGeviY3?si=758bac1bd6554157

Please do not feed to AI, claim as your own, or repost to other platforms without my permission. The characters belong to Redacted Audio and this is a fan work.

For context, with this fic it shows Dear experiencing verbal shutdown and using sign language as an alternative way to communicate with Lasko.

(Fic below cut)

It’s late. Far later than it should have been considering Lasko was still in his office. He gazed helplessly over the stacks of papers piled on his desk. Markings, forms, reminders; it was all so much it felt like he had barely made a dent. The fluttering of the papers as he rubbed his forehead was enough of an indicator that he needed to take a break. Pushing back from his desk, he moves his glasses to the top of his head. Just as he goes to stand up, there’s a knock at his office door, startling him out of his chair.

“C-c-come in!” He calls out, trying to calm his racing heart.

The person that sticks their head through the door has quite the opposite effect but for all the right reasons. Dear closes the door behind them carefully, giving him a soft smile and a wave as they make their way inside.

“O-oh! Hello my Dear, how are you? This is a surprise. A lovely one I warrant you! I just wasn’t expecting anyone here so late, l-let alone you and- oh god I haven’t forgotten something have I? If I have, I am so sorry. It’s not an anniversary or anything is it? No it can’t be; it was last month. And your birthday isn’t until next month - unless I have completely lost all track of time in this swamp of paperwork? And I realise I haven’t even said hi to you yet, let alone ask about you. So how are you Dear? How was your day?”

Unphased by his ramblings they smile softly at him, gently moving in to kiss his cheek.

‘Hi Sweets’ they sign to him, ‘I’m alright, just a long day.’

“Oh I’m sorry.” He frowns, “no one bothered you I hope? I- I- I know you said you don’t really have any troublemakers in y-y-your classes but you never, uh you never know if someone is having an off day or, or something.”

They shake their head, allowing him to guide them to one of the chairs behind his desk.

‘Nothing like that, don’t worry. Just a lot of talking and not enough practical work.’ They sign with a sigh. Lasko notices a small orb of water float from a cup on his desk to float around them as they explain. ‘How are you? You seem stressed.’

He laughs a little hollowly. “When am I not, to be honest.”

A small frown creases their features. ‘I meant more that this seemed to have a more obvious source. Rather than more day to day anxiety.’ They gesture to the piles of paperwork on his desk. As they do he watches the orb of water floating around their head form a little sad face along the surface.

“W-well I’m just getting a little bogged down at the minute. E-everyone is in the same boat and really it’s my own fault for setting so many assignments to mark when I’m only teaching D.A.M.N 101. A-and most other teachers told me they only used it as a way to fill hours and not to make it an additional strain on myself. But I, but I really wanted it to be a thing that would be useful to students, you know. Especially humanborns and those who, those who come here n-not really knowing what to expect! And if the best they have is me then I really need to up my game. It’s just so much to mark, and again! I am not complaining there are worse problems to have a-and these are really self inflicted...”

As he’s rambling he can’t help but notice the worried look in their eyes increase and the little ball of water was practically melting with how sad the face on it was. Noticing this, he decides to change tracks.

“B-but I think I should give myself a break. A lot of students have said really positive things about my class. And I’m sure they can wait an extra day or two to get their papers back, it’s not like I didn’t account for it.” As he says that he tentatively looks back up at them and sees the worry lines lessen and a now smooth and grinning ball of water floating behind his partner’s head.

‘I’m glad you can give yourself a break Lasko. I know how hard that is, I’m proud of you Sweet.’ They gently take his hand and give it a tug, encouraging him to sit next to them.

He pushes the other chair to sit next to them as he leans on their shoulder, wrapping his arm around them and gently tracing their arm up and down.

“You help a lot with that. Just by hearing me out and letting me get it all off my chest.” They lightly squeeze him in response. “It also helps that when you’re tired, your emotions are a little more plain to see, let's say.” He gestures to the water behind them, they turn around and gasp when they spot it.

‘I had no idea I was doing that. I'm so sorry.’ They bite their lip, pausing their signing to recall the water to them.

“It’s okay Dear! Really, I think it’s sweet.”

‘...You do?’ They sign after a moment of recovery, the water slowly morphing into a little heart. At this Lasko can’t contain himself and he leans forward, kissing them. They melt into his touch, wrapping their arms around him.

As he pulls back breathlessly, he takes both their hands gently in his to press a kiss to each knuckle. “Of course I do. I love all the yous, and this is a very very cute you.” He lets go of their hands as he briefly panics. “All the yous are cute to some degree! N-not that I have preferences or- oh god just shut me up.”

They chuckle softly, lifting his chin into another kiss.

‘I love you Lasko.’ They sign after he opens his eyes again.

“I love you too my Dear” He replies.

#fanfic #redacted asmr #redacted audio #redacted fandom #redactedverse #redacted lasko #redacted dear #fluff #will I ever stop writing fluff?#probably not #scarscribbles

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hooked-on-elvis · 1 year ago

Text

What is your favorite part of the '68 Special?

Pictures: Singer Presents ... Elvis, commonly referred to as the '68 Comeback Special. 1968.

For me, undoubtedly I say my favorite part of the '68 Special is the sit-down concerts, specially the reunion between Elvis and the remaining members of Elvis' former band, the Blue Moon Boys, Scotty Moore and DJ Fontana.

I wonder if the fans, not the specialized critic such as musicians and general people in the business but specially the fans, back then, while watching this TV special for the first time, understood or merely felt the significance of this moment. I wonder if they were surprised in seeing Elvis not only back onstage after a while but back onstage with Scotty and DJ Fontana by his side. Man, that was special! To me, the most special portion of the '68 Comeback. ♥

Bill Black, bassist, unfortunately passed away in 1965, while Elvis was still full time engaged with his Hollywood career. Fans only wish Bill could have been there with Scotty and DJ. He had that irreverent performance that fascinates me, surely he would've been a great asset to the show. I only feel sorry Elvis, neither Scotty or DJ, ever mentioned Bill on the '68 Special, but its understandable the reason why. It wasn't about the Blue Moon Boys more than it was about Elvis returning to the stage. Even so, had Bill made it to this moment, man! That would've been something else. Even more meaningful than it already was.

Scotty Moore: His memories on the '68 Comeback Special and 'behind the scenes': Elvis and The Blue Moon Boys performing in Europe?

Source: Excerpt of the documentary "Elvis: The Birth of Rock n' Roll" (2004)

Scotty reveals Elvis asked him and DJ Fontana if they would agree to go on the road with him again, this time performing overseas, in Europe. Curious enough, to that question, Scotty says Elvis called him and DJ Fontana to another room in his home, so they could talk in private - which was something unusual for him because "usually anything he had to say, he'd say no matter who was around".

For the longest time, performing around the world was something Presley aimed. Ever since he had been stationed in Germany with the US Army during his service time, a period he did paused his career therefore he didn't perform while in Europe between 1958 to 1960, reporters asked him if and when that moment would come when Elvis would go back to Europe but this time for live concerts, to the thrill of his passionate fans overseas who followed him career from afar, many since the 50s. Unfortunately touring outside US (other than few performances in Canada in 1957) never seemed the get the right time.

Once Elvis begin performing live again in 1969, after he was out of the movie contracts, Elvis' manager, Colonel Tom Parker, would always have excuses on the tip of his tongue for why an European tour, or world tour for that matter, would not be a such good idea. When Elvis received some death threats coming his way through letters sent to his crew occasionally, starting from 1969 on, those incident perfectly fit to Colonel Parker's intentions for his gold boy. Parker would use the incidents to manipulate Elvis to believe they couldn't do his security properly out of the US. Colonel would tell Presley how it would be too dangerous for him, besides they could make just as much money performing home as they have been doing so far.

Elvis never had this one dream of performing overseas coming true in his life, as much as another reunion between him and the Blue Moon Boys never came to be after the '68 Comeback Special. Scotty says that private conversation in Elvis' home (in 1968) was the last time he was together with Elvis like that, which makes this moment in history one of a kind.

youtube

During the '68 Special (sit-down concert), Scotty submits a special request to Elvis for them to play "Lawdy Miss Clawdy" together.

The song was recorded by them on February 3, 1956, at RCA studios in New York. It was released as B-side to the EP "Elvis Presley", out in September 1956. The cover shows Elvis, Scotty Moore and Bill Black performing together.

Later, the song would be featured on the LP "For Elvis Fans Only" released in 1959. Elvis would frequently include "Lawdy Miss Clawdy" to his main setlists from 1970 to 1975, occasionally performing it in 1976 and 1977.

No wonder Scotty picked this song. Maybe a subtle way of honoring late Bill Black. ♥

About their performance of this tune during the '68 Comeback Special:

As they jam together, Scotty gives a cue and Elvis tears into “Lawdy Miss Clawdy” with a raw assault of mixed emotion. His performance is so intense that it almost—in the best way—scratches the ears. Vocal cords that, so far, have proved their owner’s mastery with smooth singing are pushed to the point of fraying at the edges. As Greil Marcus noticed, when Elvis lurches into the number, what he experiences is a feeling that is both joshing and liberated. At one point, as the musicians jam together, it’s possible to hear Charlie Hodge getting carried away with laughter, as if bobbing in the fray of a heady, almost oceanic moment. In his underrated 2004 pocket volume The Rough Guide to Elvis, Paul Simpson describes “Lawdy Miss Clawdy” as “Elvis’s answer to Jack Kerouac’s On the Road.” Taking on this old staple in the Comeback, what the singer delivers is lusty, passionate, and commanding, yet also desperate, angry, and sad. He conjures with immense powers. — Mark Duffett (Counting Down Elvis - His 100 Finest Songs, 2018)

youtube

Again, what is your favorite part of the '68 Special?

#68 comeback special #elvis presley #elvis #elvis the king #elvis fans #elvis music #elvis fandom #elvis history #60s elvis #NBC #60s tv shows #60s tv #scotty moore #the blue moon boys #DJ fontana #Bill Black #rock and roll history #Youtube

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hugemilkshake · 1 year ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/hugemilkshake/753197827746922496/hey-can-you-do-more-uhself-aware-cookie-run-au?source=share

Incase you want another part...if not, feel free to yeet:

Y/n encounters dark enchantress with affogato...y/n panics and is like https://youtu.be/xSC910M-yyM?si=znWtTmUA_7CenRvk

Aaand then discovers DE just wants to spoil them to and so do the rest of the COD...

Theeen good guys burst in and y/n, thinking that good guy cookies are gonna think they are on COD's side and kick their butt...y/n again is like https://youtu.be/xSC910M-yyM?si=znWtTmUA_7CenRvk again.

Both sides gotta calm y/n down and both make sure y/n is comfortable...then two sides fight while y/n is set off to the side gently with their favorite snack, drink, and given headpats...aaand then winning side takes y/n...which I presume will be good guys! Like they bring y/n to their place, make sure they feel fine, enjoying their room, etc...

Enjoy the milkshake! I need more affogoto in my life. Idk why but to me, he’s skruncly

Panicking because of plot relevance

-platonic self aware-

-pt 1-

You have been traveling with Affogato for a while now and he’s honestly quite nice to have around! He will show discomfort with sleeping in the wilderness but you can’t blame him

Affogato does have some odd tendencies, like he always agrees with you no matter what and he just seems like he’s hiding something from you

But you don’t let that be a bother, your just glad to have someone to talk too… that was until you met the person who Affogato was working for…

Dark Enchantress.

You’ve heard of her and know she’s no good. So when Affogato introduced you to her, you were horrified. And well you wouldn’t admit it but you were willing to still travel Affogato because you were scared that if you didn’t, you’d end up dead

But to your surprise, Affogato started to brag about how great you are. Saying that you didn’t even know any “heroes” and you could persuade people pretty well since you had recently become a traveling merchant

To your surprise Dark Enchantress actually took you and Affogoto back to base???? You were confused but frankly too scared to speak up since you could end up dead if you cross this woman

But so far your stays been pretty nice, you’ve been getting good meals, a nice place to sleep in and it’s just chill. Affogato does stay by you most of the time.

But one day you heard a commotion… now everyone except some cake monsters were gone so that was odd… but you heard a very familiar name get called out… a name that Pitaya Dragon mentioned once or twice…

“Hollyberry Cookie…”

#crk #cookie run #crk x reader

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ramcharantitties · 1 year ago

Text

Rangrez

Chapter 7- pillow talk

S/n: EHY IS RAM SI HOT I WAS BLUSHING T WRITE THIS

Ram lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. The room was silent, but his mind buzzed with thoughts of Kainat. Her laughter echoed in his ears, her smile painted vividly in his mind. He wondered if she was thinking of him too, and the thought warmed him. Kainat, miles away, sat by her window, gazing at the stars. Each twinkle seemed to reflect Ram's eyes, the way they crinkled when he smiled. She replayed their conversations, his words resonating with a depth she hadn't felt before. She hoped he was thinking of her too, the possibility sending a shiver down her spine.

It was around seven in the morning when Ram stepped out of his place to meet someone. He had received a tip-off from his informer about a significantly new lead in the underground revolutionary movement. A wealthy woman, known for her unwavering support of the cause, had deposited funds into the movement, enabling them to execute their plans for mass protests and riots against the British regime. Seeing the conditions, it was likely a woman from rich business households.

Ram felt both excited and worried. He just had to find proof to show that a woman was behind the funding. Immediately his informer handed him a yellow, orange and red band, a seemingly subtle bracelet but it held the weight of truth within its fibers. He carefully kept the band safe and let his source know of future plans.

It was only ten by the time he was done, maybe he could stop by Akhtar's place? The break he got right now from the duties was great, his work was to track down potential revolutionary leaders. If he was able to catch the woman his source mentioned, what if he would be able to get a promotion? Ram carefully pulled out the band from his pocket, eyeing it. It looked handmade, and durable. He pocketed it, walking back his own home.

Kainat made her way to Akhtar's home. She couldn't help but remember what Ram has said and she was determined to deliver another dish so his uncle could also relish some taste. As she was about to enter, Kainat heard the familiar sound of engine and turned to see that Akhtar has just come home. Although, he looked tensed and anxious. His eyebrows furrowed and his usual cheery smile was missing from his face. Akhtar immediately locked eyes with Kainat. "Bhaiya, what happened?" She asked, looking up at the broad shoulders. She unconsciously realised Ram is shorter than him.

Akhtar gave her a long look. "Nothing" he muttered. "Are you sure? You look like you just lost something worth a million diamonds" Kainat smiled, trying to lighten the mood. Akhtar could only smile back, faking it, not sure how to tell. He was in an underground meeting when some constables found the address and started arresting the freedom fighters. Akhtar lost the bracelet Kainat made them.

"Bhaiya?" Kainat snapped him out of trance and he looked back at her sweet face. "Hm? What?" He asked, missing whatever she said. "I said can you drop me at Mr. Ramaraju's place?" Akhtar's smile turned genuine at her request. "Of course. Do you guys want to talk about something?" Kainat blushed. "Nothing serious, he just invited me there." "Oh did he now?"

Kainat sat behind Akhtar on his motorbike, riding away to Ram's. Akhtar led her way, opening the door to his place. Ram wasn't seen anywhere, so Akhtar called out for him. Kainat caught a sight and went inside his room, since she couldn't help but rake her eyes at the books that lined up each crevice of his room. All kinds of books. She wondered if she would find something interesting in his pile. Kainat heard a distinct chatter, and found Ram talking to Akhtar. She entered the room, to see Ram's bare chest on full display. He must not have noticed her yet, as he was still taking his time wearing his tshirt. Kainat couldn't help but sneak glances- his loose shirt with straps does no justice. To avoid the awkwardness, Kainat went back in his room to keep the dish in kitchen.

"You never invite me" Akhtar's statement pulled Ram out of the blush on his cheeks. "What?" He asked, staring at Akhtar.

"You invited Kainat. She's inside. But you never invite me"

Ram's lips pressed in a thin line. "That's because you're always here" he muttered, and wore his tshirt. Akhtar squinted his eyes. "Anyways, I'm gonna go, I have work at mechanic shop" Ram nodded. "Enjoy" Ram turned to him in confusion, only to find Akhtar gone.

Ram snapped his fingers, pulling Kainat out of her daydreams. "How are you feeling now?" Ram asked, and Kainat smiled. "You helped" she said, and Ram reciprocated her smile. "Tell me more about yourself" she hugged her knees closer and sat how she did when they both were sitting on floor. Ram stared up at the ceiling, his Adam's apple bobbing. Kainat shut her thighs. "I'm not really interesting I guess. I wake up before sun and go for a run. Do some archery, bath in the river. Work a little" Ram shrugged and looked back at Kainat. "I can see" she said with a mischievous smile, and Ram chuckled. "I mean, I've never really seen any men as fit as you so" Kainat tried to state a matter of fact, but her smile made Ram feel the sarcasm. He cocked his eyebrows, and shook his head. "What about your parents?" Ram's smile fainted at her question. "Passed away when I was young" Kainat's smile also disappeared at his answer, muttering a "mine too". Ram turned to her.

He stepped in his room, to see Kainat sitting on the floor, between the building of piles, reading the back of a book. He stared at her, closely. Her hair was dark, pulled at one side and she was wearing a simple pink kurti set. Both her hands had bangles adorning and circular earrings. He must have sighed loudly, for her to turn her head and peak. "Mr. Ramaraju?" Ram smiled lowly to himself. "You can call me Ram, please"

Kainat stood up, the voice of her payal matching. Her kurti has a square neck, letting him peek at her collar bones. A thin dupatta was on her shoulder. "Akhtar bhaiya?" She asked, and Ram heard her voice for the first time in so long. "Mechanic shop" she nodded, and crossed the sea of books to sit on his bed. Ram stared at her. "You can take some if you wish" Kainat shook her head in no. "I brought some from Lahore. I will finish them first" Ram smiled, and sat next to her. "Did you bring something?" He asked, leaning back on his arms on the mattress. "Yes, something for your uncle. I hope he likes it" Kainat struggled to talk, staring at his rock hard chest. Despite sleeping with so many men, Kainat had never felt like this. She did, when she met him, because of whom Rehana aapa sold her to someone else.

"Well, parents died when I was young, I only had my sisters with me. Rehana aapa, Mallika and Waheeda. Rehana aapa was cruel, but I felt she loved me. She also has a daughter, Fareedan. She is the cutest girl I know. Mallika and I never got along, although we are the same age. And Waheeda only talks to me when she needs something. But we have Phatto and Satto bi, they take good care of me...use to" Kainat's smile disappeared at that. "I hope Fareedan is fine" she whispered, and a tear escaped the side of her eye. Ram leaned forward to wipe it, when Kainat realised she was crying. She giggled, embarassed and pulled herself up wiping them.

"What if I tell you a secret?" Ram leaned in, and Kainat raised her eyebrows. She stared at his chiseled jaw, his long eyelashes. "When I was young, I stole my father's gun. With a friend of mine, I went to the hills and shot a range. My shoulder ached the next day and there was a sprain. That's how my father found out that I was pretty good at aiming." Ram smiled at the fond memories. "They aren't my real sisters"

Ram's head whipped to Kainat at her secret. "I was adopted by them and to fit in Rehana aapa changed my name. My real name is Kanika. But I like Kainat more anyways." Ram stared with disbelief. He then asked a question he always had in mind. "What do you know about Heeramandi?"

Kainat's blood ran cold at his question. "What?" She pretended not to know, not to care. "You said you lived near Heeramandi- why is it famous?" Ram stared with genuine curiosity. "Well Heeramandi is a market for men. Women sell themselves, their self respect and body just to cater their needs. And not just any men- Nawabs and British officers, only high status men. We have a class to mai-" Ram quickly looked at her face. Was she caught yet? "We?" He asked, sitting up. Kainat giggled- she had to hide somehow. She changed her sitting position, and extended her leg out. Ram's attention switched for a second and she used that to cover her mistake. "I meant they. I said we as a woman" Ram looked back at her, nodding.

"You don't look like you fit in them with anyways. They must be pretty" Kainat's eyebrows furrowed at his statement. Ram broke a grin, when she realised what he said. Picking up the nearest pillow, she smacked him with it, only to be caught and tackled. Kainat fell on the bed with a pillow in her hand, and Ram laid on top of her, holding the pillow. They could hear each other's breath, and Ram noticed the mole near Kainat's eye. "You're pretty" he muttered. "You too" she replied.

It wasn't long before they leaned in a kiss.

__________________________________________

Tagging: @ramayantika @yehsahihai @vijayasena @jeniniie @gloriouspurpose01 @multifandom-boss-bitch @jkdaddy01 @definitelyhim

#ghungru #ram charan #rrr #rrr movie #desi tag #fanfic #ram x reader #rambheem #ram x wife!reader #rrr tarak charan #heeramandi #rangrez

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ginnsbaker · 2 years ago

Text

In Losing Grip On Sinking Ships (11/22)

Chapter summary: You and Yelena confront an important aspect in your relationship; Wanda catches someone's attention

Chapter word count: 6.2K | Warnings: None | Ship: Wanda x Reader, Yelena x Reader

Author's note: Couldn't sleep and I wanted to get this chapter out of the way. P.S. Can you guess who happens to be Wanda's new customer?

AO3 | Masterlist

Next chapter: Twelve

Eleven

Bending down a little, Wanda lets Sparky jump from her arms and onto the floor. Her apartment felt a little less like home without him, except for that night you brought her home safely and tucked her in bed. And despite her initial embarrassment, a smile forms on her lips as she recalls how you took care of her, ensuring she emptied her glass of water.

Wanda could almost pretend it was just like old times, those moments when you would take care of her whenever she fell sick. They were oddly some of her fondest memories even though they were accompanied by a feeling of helplessness.

Sparky sniffs at her leg, his wet nose touching her calf, making Wanda giggle. “You’re feeling better, bud?” she coos at him, scratching behind his ears and making him wag his tail even harder. “Let’s get you something to eat.”

As she reaches for a bag of dog food from the kitchen cabinet, a faint ringing startles her. She turns her attention to the source of the sound where she finds her laptop perched nearby.

It’s an incoming video call request from none other than Pietro. Wanda's eyes instinctively flicker to the wall clock in her living room, realizing that she's five minutes late for their scheduled FaceTime session. Aside from the obvious reason that he’s scared she would descend into another episode of drug and alcohol abuse, they had made it a point to check in more frequently, not just relying on holiday reunions or convenience. If there was one good thing to come out of the tragedies of her life for the past year, it’s that it brought them closer together. This deeper connection with her brother also served as a motivating factor to be consistent with her sessions with Calliope.

Taking a deep breath, Wanda hurriedly walks over to her laptop and presses the accept button. It takes less than two seconds for the call to come through.

Pietro's voice fills the room as he exclaims, "There's my less attractive twin," accompanied by a mischievous grin on the screen. Wanda can't help but scowl at his comment, but it quickly melts into a smile as she playfully sticks her tongue out and teases, "Aren't you a bit too old for frosted tips?"

She notices how different he looks from the last time she saw him, appearing more adjusted to his new life in LA.

"Are you telling me I look old?" he retorts, feigning a pout while ruffling his spiky hair.

Wanda lets out a chuckle. "I literally just did. God, you’re stupid."

"Well, someone has to be the hot twin," Pietro smirks. "We can't both be hot and smart, sis."

"Sure, whatever," Wanda rolls her eyes and rests her chin on her palm. As much as she enjoys talking to him, she can't help but feel anxious about how he'll react when he finds out she has seen you again. Wanda had made a promise to Pietro to never see you again, which she reluctantly agreed to or else he never would have boarded his flight together with his wife.

“Alright, give me your status report for the week.”

Wanda gets right to it before hesitation can creep in. "I saw Y/N last night," she says, her voice strained as she swallows down the lump in her throat. "And again this morning."

Pietro's smile visibly falters, dissipating into a grimace as Wanda's words sink in. After a brief pause, he leans back in his chair, distancing himself slightly, and lets out a heavy sigh. "Why am I not surprised to hear that?" he mutters.

Wanda lowers her gaze, unable to meet his eyes as she recounts how Sparky ended up confined at an animal clinic and wanted to let you know.

"I know, Piet, I’m sorry" she says after she’s done speaking and Pietro hasn’t uttered a single word, his face not betraying any hint of emotion. "But if I were in her position, I’d want to know. Sparky is family.”

It’s another tension-filled silence before he speaks again.

"You really don't have to apologize to me for anything, you know?" he says in an unexpectedly gentle manner which helps Wanda relax a little. "It's not your responsibility to meet my expectations or avoid disappointing me–or anyone for that matter. But please, be completely honest with me. Was it just about Sparky?"

“It was,” Wanda says truthfully. “But I think it goes without saying that I missed her. Though if not for Sparky, we would be having an entirely different conversation right now.”

Pietro doesn't comment on that. He understands that your return to Wanda's life was going to happen sooner or later, whether it's because of the dog or some other reason. You and Wanda are like magnets, and he had witnessed it even back in college when Wanda first mentioned your name to him. There was an undeniable look in her eyes that told him he had already lost her sister to you.

“Have you told her what happened to you?”

Wanda shakes her head.

“How is she?” Pietro asks, wanting to know if you're treating Wanda fairly, hoping that you're at least maintaining a civil relationship with her.

“She actually saved me last night,” Wanda says. “I…I had a setback.”

Pietro raises an eyebrow, his expression turning skeptical. "Setback? As in…?”

Wanda takes a deep breath, nervously wringing her fingers in her lap, hidden from Pietro's view. "I had too much to drink. That's how Y/N found me." She then mentions meeting Yelena, how by the looks of it you were more than friends with her, and how that sort of flipped a switch inside of her before she could stop it.

"Does Dr. Williams know?" Pietro asks, recognizing his own biases in the situation. He had been practicing self-restraint ever since he started his own sessions with Calliope. Their weekly video calls have become less frequent, occurring only twice a month now, as his job and Shannon's pregnancy have demanded more of his time and attention.

Wanda nods slightly to confirm, but she expresses her reluctance to share the specifics of that session with Pietro. Thankfully, he doesn’t press for more details.

“I still don’t think it’s safe for you to be around her. But I trust you,” Pietro mutters, leaning forward to imitate eye contact as if they were speaking face to face. “Thank you for telling me. I’m sorry to hear she’s moved on.”

A wistful smile graces Wanda's lips. She is grateful that the pixels that make up her face on the video call manage to hide the wetness that has gathered around her eyes. It's something she still needs to work through with Calliope. Deep down, she wants to genuinely be happy for you, without the lingering jealousy and possessiveness she still harbors. Finding happiness in your happiness, even if she isn't the cause of it, is the only way she can begin to perceive herself in a decent light.

“How’s Shannon?” Wanda asks after she surmises that the topic of you has come to an end.

"What's up, my husband's less hot twin?" Shannon says, popping her head into view and giving Wanda a quick wave before disappearing from the screen as quickly as she appeared.

Wanda jumps back in her seat, looking horrified. “Has she been listening the whole time?”

Pietro starts laughing. “Yep.”

“She’s evil!” Wanda exclaims as her own laughter starts to bubble up within her.

“She says you look good,” he says.

“She did not just compliment me,” Wanda playfully gasps.

“I know,” Pietro laughs harder, his shoulders shaking and his eyes crinkling at its corners. “Pregnancy has done wonders to her.”

“I’m happy for you guys. How far along is she again?”

“Seventeen weeks,” he answers with surprising accuracy.

“Oh! So you’ll be able to tell sex of the baby?”

“We’re going to find out in a week or two,” he says.

“I hope it’s a girl.” Wanda says, crossing her fingers.

As their laughter gradually subsides and their faces return to a state of tranquil contentment, Pietro asks, “Have you ever thought of having children? I mean, not necessarily with Y/N. Just in general.”

She has, multiple times. She tried to conceive with you for a while. But it’s too complicated to explain everything to him at the moment. Instead, she shifts her focus to the notion of wanting children and realizes that it's something she desired only after falling in love with you.

"I didn't start wanting until Y/N came along,” Wanda starts. “You knew how much I hated the idea of having kids—not because I didn't like them, but because I've always felt like I had nothing to offer. How do you give away something you never received, you know?"

Piet nods in understanding, his gaze filled with empathy as he recalls their tumultuous childhood. "Yeah, I—we didn't exactly have the best childhood," he admits, his voice carrying a hint of regret. "And I think it was harder on you because I had football and my scholarship to focus on. It was my escape, my distraction from the chaos. But for you, it was different."

"I always felt this void, this emptiness inside," Wanda confesses, her words quivering with raw emotion. "Growing up in a fractured family, it felt like there was something missing, something I couldn't quite put into words. And that made me doubt my ability to be a parent.

"But being with her," Wanda continues, her voice growing steadier at the thought of you, "It changed something within me. It's made me realize that I have the capacity to love, to nurture, and to provide the kind of stability I never had. It's scary, but it's also beautiful. And for a while, we did try," Wanda pauses, unable to hold back any longer. She hadn't even mentioned this to Calliope, so she is surprised to find it easy to reveal this to the brother she used to never talk to.

“But I couldn’t get pregnant. And she was having the best year in her career, so I couldn’t bring myself to ask her if she–if she wanted to carry,” Wanda continues, her gaze distant as she recalls the memories as vividly as if they occurred yesterday. She remembers how you provided unwavering support, particularly on the financial front when she was on a part-time payroll.

After two years of unsuccessful attempts, Wanda made the difficult decision to take a break from trying to conceive, a choice that you fully supported. But she was gutted–feeling like she somehow failed you as a wife.

“If it didn’t happen with her, maybe it’s not meant to be,” she concludes with a sad smile. “I doubt I’d be a good mother anyway.”

“Don’t say that. You’d be a great mom.” Pietro tells her but it does little to bring her comfort.

Wanda thinks that could only happen if she has you to learn from. It would have been the best time raising children with you; seeing them grow up and have families of their own while you both looked on from the porch of your retirement home, worn by the passage of time, yet filled with the joy of a life well-lived.

What-ifs. Missed opportunities. Wanda has discovered that when it comes to grief, it's often more painful to mourn the things that could never be.

***

The spot beside your bed is empty when you wake up the following morning after the gala.

It’s not just empty; there’s no sign that a person has slept in it at all. Your mind drifts to the conversation you had with Kate, and then Yelena's bewildered and hurt expression as you departed the event without witnessing her moment on stage and receiving her well-deserved award. Regret courses through you as you realize the significance of that moment to Yelena and how you let her down by leaving without an explanation. In hindsight, the “biggest asshole of the night” award unanimously goes to you.

With a groan, you reach for your phone on the nightstand, hoping to find some messages from Yelena. Nothing. No attempted calls either. That’s… new. Talking things through is something you’ve always practiced with Wanda. You’re not used to this unerring silence after what could arguably be called a fight; your first one since picking up where you both left off more than twelve years ago. Putting on a pair of shorts, you walk out the bedroom and into the living room, hoping to find Yelena there. Everything looks exactly as you left it, meaning Yelena probably didn’t even go home after the gala.

Somehow, that renews your irritation, now mingled with a growing concern about your girlfriend’s whereabouts and why she couldn’t bother to let you know if she was at least somewhere safe.

Where are you? You send Yelena a text and then place your phone facedown on the kitchen counter.

Grabbing a box of cereal from the shelf and milk from the fridge, you start preparing your breakfast. As you dig your spoon into the bowl of cereal, you find your eyes involuntarily glancing towards your phone, anticipating a notification to appear any moment.

In the next few minutes, however, it remains motionless and silent on the granite surface. Losing your patience, you pick it up and dial Yelena’s number.

It rings and rings and rings, with each tone feeling more empty and distant than the last, until finally, a dead tone greets your efforts to reach her. Feeling a spike of pettiness, you decide to let go of your attempts to reach Yelena and instead, your fingers scroll through your contacts to a name that has been lingering in the back of your mind more times than you care to admit.

Before you’re aware of what you’re doing, you’ve sent your ex-wife a simple good morning text.

Wanda’s reply comes less than a minute later.

Good morning :) - W

You think of something to say, realizing that you hadn't planned that far ahead when you sent that text. You stand there in the middle of your kitchen, blinking at Wanda’s text for a long time when you suddenly remember what you really wanted to ask from her.

How’s Sparky doing?

He's doing alright. He's not particularly fond of the diet I've recently put him on, but the vet strongly advised me to stick to it and not feed him anything else. - W

You can envision Wanda struggling to feed Sparky, as it's no easy task due to his stubborn nature, much like his owner.

What diet is he on? I was going to bring him some toys and a new bed today, so maybe I can pick up groceries for him as well.

Wanda’s reply to that never comes, and you continue to fume over Yelena’s lack of response.

***

It turns out, the demand of your work does have its advantages.

It means there’s little to no room for you to overthink what Yelena’s silence means. And if you can’t think about it, you can pretend that everything’s under control, like maybe she’s got caught in another assignment and hasn’t gotten any chance to text you back. However, as lunchtime approaches and you check your phone, you notice that she has seen your message but left it on read.

Almost half a day and still no word from her. Instead of feeling agitated, you begin to worry. New York isn’t a particularly safe city. You’ve heard of people walking its streets in broad daylight and being attacked out of nowhere. You really shouldn’t have left her last night. If something had happened to her–

"Ms. Y/L/N?" Your secretary's voice comes through the door with a soft knock. “Ms. Natasha Romanov is here to see you.”

The mention of your best friend's name brightens your mood instantly. "Please, let her in. Thank you." With that, you close your laptop and make your way towards the couch, preparing for Natasha's arrival. Her timing couldn’t have been more perfect. Perhaps Natasha can provide you with insights into the complex workings of her sister’s mind.

"Your secretary informed me that you rarely leave the building. So, I brought lunch," Natasha announces with a casual air as she enters your office. She's dressed in simple civilian clothing, a sign that she'll be off-duty for a while.

“Hey,” you stand up to greet her and you kiss each other on the cheek. “Thank you for this. I’m starving,” you say, taking the paper bags from her hands and spreading out its contents on the table in front of the couch.

"Nice office," Natasha comments, her hands sliding into her pockets as she takes a tour of your workspace. “But it could be bigger.” she jokes.

"That's what she said," you grin, the inside joke slipping out of your mouth without a second thought.

Natasha snorts, finding it amusing that you've regained some of your signature humor since she last saw you. She had been away for months on a mission that was initially intended to be just a few weeks long, and the transformation in you during that time has been surprisingly profound. Initially, she worried if you were ready to enter a relationship with her sister, having witnessed the impact of your divorce on your emotional stability. But seeing how genuinely happy Yelena is with you, she wonders if she had been mistaken in thinking that your reconnection was ill-timed.

She joins you on the couch, settling down beside you as you take a bite of your shawarma. The comfortable silence between you speaks volumes of the strong bond you share, but then the thought of not hearing from Yelena since you left the gala last night comes to mind.

"Have you heard from Yelena this morning?" you ask, a tinge of worry seeping into your voice as your appetite wanes.

"Yeah, she actually messaged me earlier," Natasha replies, her voice slightly muffled as she chews her food. "She needed some information for the column she's working on. Why do you ask?"

You sigh at the confirmation that she’s blatantly ignoring you. At the same time, you’re relieved to know that she’s alright.

"She didn't come home last night. She wouldn't answer my texts or take my calls either," you explain, unable to hide the amount of frustration in your voice.

"Oh. Trouble in paradise?"

"Something like that," you reply, not wanting to delve into the details just yet.

Natasha licks the sauce from her lips. "Mind if I ask what happened?"

You hesitate for a moment, before saying, "I'm not sure I feel comfortable talking about my relationship problems to my girlfriend's sister."

Natasha’s smile is toothy yet assuring. "I understand, but sometimes an outsider's perspective can be helpful. Plus, I know Yelena better than anyone. I might be able to offer some advice."

Sighing, you give in, if only to learn more about this side of Yelena you’re dealing with.

“She used to be more…confrontational. I’m not used to her shutting me out this long. Frankly, it’s driving me crazy.” you say.

“What did you do?” Natasha asks.

You chuckle softly. "Why do you assume it's something I did?"

“My sister can be a pain in the ass, but you’re right about her being confrontational. So if she’s giving you the silent treatment, you must have done something to really hurt her feelings.” Natasha says. Though she’s talking about you hurting her sister’s feelings, she maintains a neutral stance. You’re honestly curious how she manages that.

"I found out something by accident, and I was upset that she kept it from me, so I left her event last night before she could receive her award," you reveal at last.

Natasha leans back on the couch, her shawarma wrap in hand, and points it at you accusingly with a smirk. "You screwed up."

"But I didn't even tell you what I found out–"

"You screwed up big time. Fix it. You don't want to lose her because you acted like a jerk."

Her words hit you with a dose of reality, and you realize she's right. “Got any ideas?” you ask.

"She acts all tough, but seriously, she's a bouquet-of-red-roses kind of girl,” Natasha quips, and then sort of shudders as her face turns sour. “It feels weird giving relationship advice to my sister’s girlfriend.”

“Yup,” you agree, scrunching your nose. “Let’s forget this ever happened. But thanks for the tip.”

***

As the first rays of sunlight gently filter through the windows, Wanda unlocks the door to her cozy coffee shop. Inside, the space is bathed in a warm, golden glow. Wanda moves with practiced grace, setting up the tables and arranging the chairs, each movement purposeful and efficient.

The scent of freshly ground coffee beans fills the air as Wanda expertly operates the espresso machine. Rich, earthy notes intertwine with hints of chocolate and caramel, infusing the space with a comforting allure. She carefully measures the coffee grounds, tamping them down with precision, allowing the anticipation of the perfect cup to build.

And all of these she does with a silly grin on her face. While she acknowledges the need to establish boundaries(hence, leaving your last message on read), especially now that you’re spoken for, it doesn’t mean she couldn’t privately relish just being connected to you and basically just having your name in her inbox.

The soft creak of the entrance door breaks the tranquil silence as Peter enters the coffee shop, backpack slung over his shoulders.

“Good morning, Ms. Maximoff.”

“Hey, Peter. I told you to just call me Wanda.” she says with a soft smile. Peter grins at her sheepishly as he heads straight to the backroom. Briefly depositing his things inside, he sets about his tasks diligently. It’s a Monday, which means she’ll only have Peter to help around the cafe. Agatha has been increasing her shifts at the cafe, to a point where Wanda has decided that free coffee and food won’t suffice anymore. As a result, she has considered the prospect of forming a partnership with Agatha when the time comes to expand her business later on.

As Wanda finishes arranging the register and secures the change inside, the jingle of the entrance bell announces the arrival of the first customer for the day. She swiftly dons her apron and offers a warm smile.

"Welcome to Second Chances!" Wanda greets, her voice filled with genuine enthusiasm.The customer is an attractive dark woman in her 30s, and she’s looking at Wanda with a curiosity that goes beyond coffee and cake–to which Wanda is completely oblivious to.

"Hi, uh..." she glances at Wanda's nametag. "Wanda. What do you recommend?" she asks, her focus solely on maintaining eye contact with Wanda rather than the menu.

"That depends," Wanda responds, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she considers a range of options. She starts with your favorite, the Spanish Latte.

“I’m not really into sweet stuff,” The customer comments, her gaze still locked with Wanda's.

Undeterred, Wanda quickly adapts her recommendation. “Our vanilla latte isn’t the overly sweet kind. It's a balanced blend of creamy milk and subtle vanilla extract. It pairs perfectly with our arabica beans. The combination creates a smooth and rich taste that might surprise you.”

The customer straightens her jacket, wearing a roguish smirk that looks ridiculously attractive on her. "How about you surprise me?"

Wanda smiles back. "Certainly. Please take a seat and make yourself comfortable. Your drink will be prepared and served to you shortly."

The customer finds a cozy spot in the corner of the café, settling into the inviting atmosphere. Wanda gets to work, and while she moves about the open kitchen, a pair of dark brown eyes watch her every movement. Then, from the corner of those eyes, catches sight of Peter nearby, diligently mopping the floor, and beckons for his attention.

“Hey, kid, can I ask you something?”

“Yes, ma'am?”

"Is your colleague over there single?" she inquires, discreetly gesturing towards Wanda.

Peter scratches his head, looking torn for a second, before replying, “Sorry, but it would be inappropriate of me to reveal personal details about my boss.”

"Boss?" she echoes, seemingly more entranced.

Peter nods. “Yes, Ms. Maximoff owns this place.”

Wanda Maximoff.

Her surprise lingers for a moment before she nods. Intrigued by the revelation that Wanda is the owner of the café, she leans back in her seat, her eyes fixated on the gorgeous woman deftly crafting her mysterious drink. The curiosity in her expression intensifies, and it's clear that there's more to her interest than just the beverage itself.

“Anything else I can help you with?” Peter asks as he drags the mop over the last spot on the floor.

“No, thank you,” she replies as she continues to look past him. “I’ve got everything I need.”

***

The chicken has only been roasting in the oven for a few minutes when Yelena finally arrives home. Throughout the day, she had sent you only one text, informing you of her expected delay. Despite this, you don't mind, as you had planned to prepare a special dinner. A mere bouquet of two dozen roses wouldn't suffice to successfully woo your girlfriend, and you wanted to go the extra mile.

"Smells delicious," Yelena comments as she hangs her coat on the rack and slips off her boots. She’s wearing just about the same look on her face before last night’s argument, relieving some of the tension you’ve been carrying all evening. It brings you some relief to see that she's taken the initiative to speak to you first now that you're in the same room again.

"It's just a simple dish I make once in a while," you say, attempting to downplay its significance. The truth is, it's the only recipe you know, and it feels a bit awkward to admit that you learned it from Wanda. However, the origins of the recipe don't really matter to you. You'd go to great lengths and use all your resources just to make up for what happened at the gala.

As Yelena makes her way towards the kitchen, her eyes catch sight of the bouquet of roses positioned on the table, right where she usually sits.

“What’s this?” she asks, picking it up and inspecting it with an odd expression that doesn’t bode well for you.

“Flowers?” you reply, your voice slightly shaky. “I–I heard you’re pretty fond of them so I bought you some–two dozens actually. I have a vase here in case you want–”

"No, I mean, why? Why are you buying me flowers?" Yelena questions, her tone filled with confusion and perhaps a hint of suspicion.

A smile of disbelief tugs at the corners of your lips, not quite making sense of why you have to explain something so obvious. However, underneath that smile, a wave of irritation crashes over you, fueled by a mounting list of grievances: the prolonged silent treatment, keeping her friends with benefits history with Kate from you, her not coming home last night, and (you just decided to throw in) her habit of neglecting to place her clothes in the hamper, among other things.

Still, you manage to maintain your composure and respond calmly with, “Isn't that what you're supposed to do when you upset your girlfriend?"

Yelena lets out a hoarse laugh that lacks any trace of warmth or affection, and it strikes a nerve within you, igniting a deep sense of anger and frustration. The emotions surge through you, threatening to consume the remaining shreds of patience you have left.

"Upset? You think you’ve upset me?" Yelena's voice drips with sarcasm.

You set your jaw and nod.

"Y/N, you didn't just upset me. You fucking hurt me," Yelena's voice trembles with raw emotion. "That night was so important to me, and you checked out completely."

Your heart sinks at her words. You have never really seen her cry because of you. It’s not a pretty sight.

"That's why I'm trying to apologize. I got you these," you gesture towards the roses and the uncut vegetables on the counter, "And I cooked for you because I know I did a terrible thing. I tried reaching out to you as soon as I woke up this morning, but you refused to talk to me. And even now, I don't know how to fix this. So, please, tell me what to do."

“I don’t know,” Yelena says, her voice dropping to a whisper. “How about you go back in time and not leave me? Did you know that half of my speech was about you? And I had to remove that part because it was pointless to thank someone who wasn’t there.”

The sight of her tears glistening in her eyes cuts you deeply. It dawns on you just how much you hurt her. How selfish you were to think that your actions were justified by the betrayal you felt after your conversation with Kate.

And things wouldn’t get better unless Yelena knows why you left in the first place. Carefully choosing your words, you begin to explain, “Kate insinuated that you two had an arrangement that wasn’t entirely just friendly.”

It’s Yelena’s turn to be backed into a corner. “She told you?”

“By accident,” you clarify. “She, uh, recognized the signs that we weren’t intimate with each other, and I… it wasn’t hard to put two and two together after that.”

A small part of you is still hoping that Yelena would deny it. The anticipation of her response tightens the knots in your stomach, and yet there’s nothing you can do but brace yourself for it.

After a moment of silence, Yelena lets out a heavy sigh, her shoulders slumping slightly. “I… yes. We were sleeping together at one point in our relationship but it never meant anything to me. I-I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

It’s one thing to hear it from Kate, but another to have your partner validate it out loud. And while jealousy brews within you almost instantly, it fuels your sense of insecurity. Why does it feel like secrets are always being kept, and why are you the last to know?

You turn towards the sink to run your hands under the water, your back on Yelena as you ask, "Do you remember the night I went to your place and Kate answered the door for me?"

"What does that have to do with..." Yelena starts to say.

“Yelena.” you interrupt softly, urging her to just answer the question.

“I do,” she confirms.

“Kate told me she had feelings for you that night,” you say, toweling your hands dry and observing Yelena as she looks away. “When you were sleeping together, were you already aware that she has feelings for you?”

“No,” Yelena says. “She only confessed once I ended it.”

“When was that?”

Yelena, though somewhat misplaced in the context of things, smiles at the memory. It was the day that made it painfully clear to her that she wasn't over you yet. Seeing you after all those years, married to someone else, was a hard pill to swallow. But she couldn’t deny how strongly she still felt for you.

“When I ran into you in Soho, things didn't feel quite the same afterward.” she says.

"Why didn't you tell me?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Because it didn't mean anything," Yelena insists at first, but as she meets your pained gaze, it hits her like a ton of bricks. She won a chance with you because someone lied to you and betrayed your trust. And for her to do something similar–

“I was afraid of what you might think of me,” she says slowly. “Kate and I were best friends, we connected emotionally outside of sex. But I didn't want you to think that I was taking advantage of her or using her.”

"Why did you assume I would think that?"

“She’s wealthy. I was literally leeching off on that when I agreed to move into her apartment, wasn’t I?”

“Yelena–”

“It’s true. And I was too selfish to see it. More importantly, I didn’t tell you about Kate because I didn't want you to doubt my intentions or question my feelings for you. When you have me, you have all of me.”

You both fall into a long, tension-filled silence. You find yourself lost in a whirlwind of thoughts, trying to process Yelena's admission, while she anxiously gnaws at her lip, her eyes filled with worry.

"I think I want to know these things, even if they are hard to hear," you say, sounding defeated. Just an hour ago, you had convinced yourself not to confront Yelena about Kate, believing that it was all in the past and that the feelings involved were one-sided. But now, in this moment, you realize that what truly bothers you isn't the fact that they had a sexual relationship; it's the fact that Yelena didn't feel the need to be open and honest with you, especially when you had been honest with her about your own experiences with Wanda. The lack of transparency and trust is what stings the most.

"I understand that it meant nothing to you, and I believe you," you say, speaking the words more to yourself than Yelena. "But I'm tired of people lying and keeping secrets from me. Am I really that difficult to be honest with?"

Yelena’s lips twist slightly, as her eyes water at the way you’re doubting what you deserve.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers, taking hesitant steps towards you. You allow Yelena to approach, and she wraps her arms around your shoulders, pulling you into a tight embrace. "It's not about you. It's me. I was just scared–scared to ruin what we have. I've wanted you for so long, and I didn't take a moment to consider if my actions were truly in your best interest–”

“Do you trust me?” you ask suddenly, your voice muffled by her shirt.

You should've thought about it beforehand, but you both counted on your shared past, the years of knowing each other from childhood, assuming trust would just come so seamlessly.

“I want to,” Yelena says after a while. “I think I do, but not as much as before. I think I’m just realizing now how different you are from the Y/N I knew when I was a teenager.”

With a deep sigh, you hold Yelena closer, seeking comfort in her scent. "I understand what you mean," you say.

“Why didn’t you tell me you knew Kate liked me?” Yelena asks.

Pulling away to look at Yelena, you tenderly sweep her hair away from her eyes. "First of all, I don't think she likes you," you assert, your lips brushing against Yelena's temple in a tender gesture. "I think she's in love with you."

"That's not what she told me," Yelena counters.

“She doesn’t even have to say anything. I can feel it. I see the way she looks at you, the way her gaze lingers.”

“I guess I was too ignorant, or perhaps I didn’t want to see it,” Yelena concedes to the truth. Despite being fully aware of Kate’s true feelings towards her, she chose to remain in her company, desiring their friendship even if it meant causing Kate pain; Kate, who quietly stood in the sidelines as she watched Yelena fall in love with you for the second time around.

“Should I… should I stop talking to Kate?”

You shake your head. “I can’t tell you what to do, Yelena. But I do think you need to give her some space.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“Do you see her often at work?”

“We’re on the same team and we share a mentor. So, yes.”

You think about Kate and how hard that must be for her. It’s only time and distance that can help, similar to how you presumed matters eventually settled with Wanda.

Yelena watches you with concern as you grow quiet again.

“I shouldn’t have left,” you say, your hands coming up to her neck as you cradle it gently, feeling the tendrils of her hair at her nape. “You didn’t deserve that from me.”

“No, I didn’t. But I’m sorry too,” Yelena sighs, leaning into your touch. “I know that trust doesn’t come easy for you, not after what happened with–”

“It doesn’t have to be.” you say.

“I know. From now on, I’m going to make a conscious effort to be more open,” Yelena promises, her eyes soft but resolute. “I keep forgetting you’re not the same person you were. Maybe because I fell so easily for this version of you.”

In that moment, you become aware of how deeply you care and feel for her. "I love you too," you whisper so softly that she almost misses them.

The declaration sparks something within Yelena, causing it to manifest in the corners of her eyes. And then, just as they lighten up, they darken–her want palpable in the abyss of her green eyes.

Tugging at the hem of your shirt and voice dripping with need, Yelena whispers, "Then show me.”

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #ifiss 2 #ilgoss #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova #unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff fanfiction

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lucisfavoritedemon · 10 months ago

Text

The Fateful Call

Request: I’ve had the idea of ‘what if the call had went through when Bill called Stan as Ford and threatened to off himself’ for a awhile, THE ANGST!!!

Warnings: Extreme angst, spoilers from the Book of Bill. Mentions of suicide, mentions of hopelessness, mentions of attempts, mentions of SI, mentions of SH. Some fluff at the end. DO NOT READ IF ANY OF THE AFOREMENTIONED TRIGGER YOU!!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

A/N: This was requested by @thebestusernamepossible, I hope this is as angsty as you hoped. I also feel wrong mentioning these themes without addressing sources. If you are feeling any of the aforementioned emotions, do not hesitate to reach out to someone, or to the 988 crisis number. You matter.

Ford had been through a lot with Bill fighting him on shutting down the portal, but nothing could prepare him for what awaited him when he woke up the morning after Bill took his body for a joy ride. Polaroids strewn across the floor of some of the things Bill had used his body to do; partying, getting a tattoo, assaulting a cop, and more. All horrible things that he will spend an eternity trying to fix, but nothing could have prepared him for the tape that Bill had made of the night's events.

Ford hesitantly put the tape into the VCR, and he watched the night's events unfold as Bill used him as a human puppet. Ford now knew why his hand hurt so badly. Bill had apparently repeatedly hammered a nail into his hand. All of that being horrible and hard to watch, but nothing could have prepared him for what Bill did at the very end of the tape.

Bill had used his body to limp up to a pay phone and type in a number. At first Ford didn;t recognize it, then the reality of the situation hit him. Bill just dialed the phone number at the end of an infomercial…Stan’s infomercial! Ford felt like vomiting, and he prayed the pay phone didn’t work, until he heard the line ringing.

“This is Panley Stines, what can I sell you today?”

“Hey brother, it's Sixer. I’m going to take a swim in the frozen lake tomorrow, and I might not ever come back, so if you don’t hear from me, I just want you to know that it;s because I never loved you. BUH-BYEEEE.”

“W-what?” Ford heard Stan’s voice stutter before Bill made his body hang the phone up.

Ford was hopeless. Bill would do anything to get him to start the portal back up again. His heart was in his throat. How could Bill do this!? Now Stan believed Ford hated him, and was going to kill himself tomorrow. What more torture could Bill do? How was Ford to fix this and let Stan know he wasn’t actually, but Stan would never believe him, or think that he was doing it to get attention. He sat there, tears stinging his eyes, for the first time in his life, not knowing what to do.

Stan was in his motel room. He had somehow bargained his way into being to stay there for a while. He hoped that someone, anyone would call and buy what he was selling now. He felt like he was in the lowest part of his life possible. He felt like he was a failure and a screw up and was having a hard time believing anyone loved, or even remembered him, especially his brother. It had been ten years since he talked to him, and as the years went on, it was harder and harder to convince himself that Ford still cared.

One night, Stan got a very unexpected phone call. He answered it thinking that it was someone calling to buy one of his many Stanco fails. “This is Panley Stines, what can I sell you today?” He spoke trying to sound cheery and hopeful. The voice that came back was one he was last expecting to speak back.

“W-wait…” the line went dead before he could say anything else.

Ford…he was going to do something to himself and Stan was states away. He had no idea where he was living these days, and knew, even if he did and drove all night, he wouldn’t reach him in time. Why would Ford call and tell him that for one, and two say it was because he never loved his brother. Something wasn’t right, but Stan didn’t feel like questioning it. What if that really just how Ford truly felt.

All the things tried to fight all these months he decided to stop fighting. The one person who kept him going all these years had just called and stated he was going to off himself and it was all because he didn’t love Stan. What was Stan supposed to do with that information? He couldn’t do anything. All the years of thinking about hurting himself, or offing himself, and feeling like he could never amount to anything came flooding back, and the only thing he felt in those dark moments was seeing Ford again one day, and now he will never get that chance. His brother would be gone by this time tomorrow and he was helpless to stop him.

Stan stared off into space deep in thought. Thoughts of joining his brother, or hurting himself just a little to make the pain in his heart and soul dissipate. He wanted himself to feel the physical pain as he felt it was easier to handle than the mental pain. The mental turmoil he was going through would be enough to drive someone absolutely mad.

Ford paced his cabin for what seemed like days. He refused to sleep, or eat, or do anything but pace until he figured out a way to fix things with Stan, or at least undo what Bill did. He absolutely refused to sleep again as he was afraid Bill might actually follow through with his plan, or much worse.

Ford knew the obvious, and that was to call Stan and explain that it was a prank, or he was told to do it against his will. He wanted to say that it was all untrue and that he loved his brother dearly which wasn’t untrue. Yes, he was upset about Stan costing him his dream school, but Ford could never not love his twin brother.

He knew what he had to do. He had to call Stan. Even if he told a little lie, it was better than nothing. He couldn’t let Stan believe he was dead, he couldn’t let him think that he was going to do something to himself because he didn’t love Stan. So, he swallowed his pride and called Stan.

Stan bandaged himself up again in the motel bathroom when he heard the phone ringing. His gut fell, he hoped this wasn’t the call he was dreading all day to get. He took a deep breath and answered, “Panley Stines, what can I sell you today…?” He tried his best to sound cheerful, but it was hard as he awaited for the voice to say they found his brother.

“Stanley?” The voice sounded hopeful, and exhausted.

“Ford?” Stan didn’t know whether to be happy, or angry.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean any of it. I’m not going to do anything to myself. I was held against my will by a group of bikers in town after I…well I was being me and they forced me to call you…”

Stan couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It wasn’t a surprise that his nerdy brother had gotten himself into trouble by mouthing off his science-y words to people. It was laughable, but he refrained himself as he responded, “you still aren’t good in social settings, huh Sixer?”

They chuckle on the other end made him feel like they were kids again, “guess not. I had to call though, I wanted you to know that I didn’t mean any of it…” Ford wanted to say that he loved his brother, but he couldn’t get the words to come out, “I-I have to go, but I needed to call.”

“Stanford?” Stan wanted to say he loved his brother, but the words couldn’t come out, “don’t ever call me saying that again.”

They both chuckled before they hung up. That was probably the closest to saying they loved each other that they would ever get. Both feeling relieved to know the other one was still out there in the world, even if they didn’t talk again.

#gravity falls #stanley pines #stanford pines #angst #trigger warnings

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