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willgrahymn · 4 years

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Crushing Fear

wow can you believe I’m posting one of my fics on tumblr? me neither.

Tags: prinxiety, love confessions, some point close after FWSA, flower language, some swearing, and light angst but mostly fluff (oh and I throw shade at Janus).

Summary: Virgil didn't even remember how long he had spent repressing his dumb crush, but with Thomas falling in love, it felt harder to ignore the feelings welling up in his chest. All he knew was that he couldn't admit it out loud. Luckily for him, Roman was a romantic who couldn't stand to let a chance at love go uninvited, even if he didn't always feel deserving of it.

Word count: 3334

I’ll reblog with ao3 link since I know tumblr is dumb about it :)

There were a lot of things Virgil loved about Roman. He loved the way Roman would push back his hair whenever he caught a glimpse of himself or felt nervous and he loved the way it always fell in his face again. He loved the way his eyes lit up when Virgil asked about a show or a musical he knew the prince liked. To be honest, it was hard to think of something he didn't love. Even things he once thought were annoying had become endearing to him.

It didn’t matter. He had a reputation to at least try to maintain, he’d already gone so damn soft around the others since the light sides and Thomas came to get him back and Roman made that sweet little speech in the darkness of his room.

“You make us better.” It was like a song he played on repeat. At the time, Roman was the last person he expected to convince him that this could be his home – his family – but somehow he did. He may have been a jerk early on, but maybe, Virgil thought, he really was a knight in shining armor. Roman was more like him than he once thought; using fake confidence to cover up insecurities was nothing new.

And now, years later, here he was lying in bed like a yearning gay fool with music that wasn’t loud enough to block out his thoughts. He figured his little crush would be something that he could just hide away until it wasn’t even there. That plan was failing horribly though, especially when Roman could steal his breath by just looking at him. He didn't know how to handle feelings that felt bigger than himself.

Would it be smart to try something now? Probably not. What would he even do? Roman always talked of big, grand gestures that could literally and figuratively sweep one off their feet. Virgil didn’t consider himself good at plenty of things, and wooing someone like he was in a movie happened to be on the list. The farthest he'd gotten with confrontation was making Thomas talk to Nico, all because he couldn't stand to see Roman so heartbroken. He could feel the darkness below his eyes lighten to that embarrassingly glittery purple at the memory of how proud Roman was.

But Roman was Creativity and had his own little kingdom in the imagination. Virgil was sure that if he wanted a boyfriend he could just make the man of his dreams who would do anything and everything for him without the slightest hesitation. It seemed existence wasn’t fair like that.

He could just barely hear a knock sounding at the door, Virgil's eyes immediately darting over to where the sound had come. He debated whether or not he should respond. It wasn’t as if he didn’t like his friends, but his same old avoidant tendencies from before never went away.

“Virgil?” Roman asked. His voice making Virgil freeze and want to melt away at the same time. “Are you awake?”

Fuck, shit, some other words Patton would disapprove of. What time was it? 1:30? He couldn’t blame Roman for assuming he was still out, especially since it was the truth not too long ago. He almost felt sorry for his sleep schedule, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. No matter how hard Logan tried to help he always found himself digging through the kitchen at 5 in the morning, and not because he was an early riser. He paused his music, hanging his headphones on his headboard. Listening to Sally’s Song for the 17th time could wait for later.

He heard Roman laugh, and it felt like roses.

“That’s alright. If anyone here knows anything about beauty sleep, it’s me. The glasses gays are insisting that I awaken the beast though, so you better at least have something on before I barge in.”

Virgil wasn’t sure if Roman was talking to himself or knew he was being heard. He just burrowed deeper under his covers. He didn't want Roman to find him awake and think he was ignoring him, even if it was kind of the truth.

The door creaked. It sounded like something from a shitty horror movie. The heavy footsteps didn’t make it any more calming either. Roman was never this quiet. He refused to open his eyes, even as his blanket was pulled away from his face. He couldn’t stop the sharp intake of breath as he felt cool air shock his skin.

“Awh, c’mon! I’m the actor here. Your eyes were closed too tight, for one thing,”

Virgil sighed, opening his eyes and squinting at the light. “I thought you were here to wake me up, not give me acting lessons.”

“Good morning to you too, Mourning Glory. It’s not my fault if you want to hide away all day, I’m just giving tips on being more realistic.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, biting the inside of his lip to resist smiling. Wanting to stay calm as if he knew what he was doing.

“You’ve teased me about being a vampire before. Can’t I play the part?”

“Oh, trust me, you’re perfect for the role. Sadly for you, there are two very insistent Sides saying you have to be a real functioning part of the mind, so unless you want me to carry you out there and make a whole scene, you better come down on your own.”

Virgil sighed, rolling onto his back as his eyes adjusted to the light. The two stared at each other. Testing each other. Not getting out of bed never sounded more tempting.

He gave in, rambling. “Sure, okay, whatever.” He sighed, reaching out and taking hold of Roman’s hand, letting the prince pull him upright. Whether it was he or Roman who ended up bringing them so close was something he could stay up late thinking about later. Now wasn’t the time to focus on rough palms or scarred skin that he once bandaged up while cursing out the ever-so-reckless Roman for sneaking out on quests, leaving Virgil to hunt him down with nothing but adrenaline and a certain level of knowingness in his dread.

He tried to bite back a yawn. His eyes widening at the warm feeling of a hand pressed to his face, of a thumb brushing lightly over his cheekbone. It wasn’t unwelcome, to be honest, he could probably fall back asleep just like this. He’d be okay waking up every morning if they were like this. If the romantic side offered it. If Virgil would allow himself to accept and experience it.

“How long have you been up?”

“Anywhere between 20 minutes to 2 hours. I don’t really know.”

Roman smiled, betraying the worried look in his eyes. It was probably just the effect of his room, that’s what Virgil hoped it was anyway. He tried not to show any disappointment when Roman’s hand fell to the bed.

“I’ll be down in a few,” Virgil continued, “just let me take care of my makeup first.”

Roman’s eyes trailed him as he got up and moved over towards his desk in the corner of the room, flicking on the light as he went by. Why is he fucking staring?

“While I’m here, I was wondering if you’d care to join me for a quest this evening? Or maybe we could throw a ball for the mind palace? I know it’s not your thing, but I thought it might be fun? Or y’know, something else more low-key.”

“Uh, yeah you know I’m not big on big things,” Virgil replied, looking over to the prince picking at a loose thread on the cuffs of his sleeves. “You know if you want to hang out you can just ask, you don't need some extravagant event going on to get me alone with you.”

Roman nodded, not seeming any calmer than before. Virgil's brows furrowed, worries flowed through him as if it were his blood. He didn't want to make Roman talk if he didn't want to, but god was it nerve-racking.

At the very least, it seemed like he wouldn't be putting on any more black eyeshadow to try and hide its changes.

Roman, on the other hand, decided not to question why the Side no longer seemed interested in putting his makeup on, and being grateful for the fact Virgil took advantage of the fact they could conjure themselves into different outfits rather than changing right then and there.

The two stayed there, an awkward silence taking over the room before a crash sounded from the living room.

“We should probably go.”

Virgil simply nodded, pulling his jacket tighter around as he followed Roman out of the room.

Luckily, the crash had only come from Patton knocking over a stack of DVDs, CDs, and a few other things. Another lost-glasses incident. It was a miracle nothing got broken.

The day itself would have felt completely normal if not for the fact Roman kept looking at him. Starting off as unsure as they did in his room, and slowly brightening like he had finally figured out a plothole in one of his stories. It was even more unsettling when he realized Roman was no longer there, vanished off to do god knows what.

So Virgil spent the next couple of hours trying to ignore the feeling of his fears eating him from the inside out like a moth to a sweater. He wouldn’t mind the holes if they didn’t leave him so uncomfortable. But then again, maybe that was fitting for his aesthetic. Torn-up shirts and jeans to pair with his torn-up emotions. At least he found solace in the darkness of his outfits.

It didn’t take long to get bored of the mundane mind palace.

Maybe I should take Roman up on that quest idea. He thought, his foot bounced, hanging over the side of the couch. Even if it wasn’t in his list of Shit Virgil Can Do Without Fucking Up, it was better than sitting around and waiting for nothing.

Virgil got up silently, giving a quick two-finger salute to Logan who had started reading some new detective novel before he sunk out. Appearing again before Roman’s door. Maybe he was just self-conscious, but it looked bigger than it was. Like behind it would be some hidden treasure that he finally reached.

It wasn’t entirely wrong. Roman was certainly someone to be treasured, even if he made mistakes. He just wished the other Sides would help him understand it.

He held his breath as he knocked, jolting back when it swung open almost instantly.

“You’re here!” Roman exclaimed, bouncing on his heels.

“Uh, yeah. I thought I’d take you up on your offer from earlier… if it’s still up, anyway.”

“Oh! Yeah, totally!” The prince tugged at his collar, not making eye contact. Virgil couldn’t help but smile slightly at the prince's giddiness. “I was just working on something if you’d care to see it?”

“You know I wanna see whatever you come up with, even if it’s some rewrite of Frozen.”

Roman bounced again, holding his hands out, palms up. He looked at Virgil with an emotion he couldn’t name, but it made him feel anxious in a good kind of way. Not anything like the dread he was used to. He placed his hands on Roman’s, and it wasn’t till they were sinking out and into the imagination that he realized it was the same kind of feeling from when Nico first texted Thomas about meeting up again. He held Roman’s hands a little tighter.

When he opened his eyes, they were surrounded by flowers.

“Woah…”

“Do you like it? I had to sneak into Logan’s room and borrow a few of his books.”

“I– yeah. It’s beautiful. And don’t worry, I won’t snitch.” He stepped away, wandering the circular little garden. He could only recognize so many. “Didn’t know you had a thing for landscaping.”

“I try my best. Honestly, I’m just happy neither of us has allergies.”

“Gosh, you’re such a dork.” Virgil laughed, petting the petals of a rose. Not paying attention to the way Roman watched him and shifted his weight every so often nor how warm his cheeks had become. “Do you know what any of them mean?”

“I do, but I think if I tell you, you’ll realize how predictable I am.”

“Go for it.”

“Well, roses are pretty well known. The red ones are anyway. Love, passion, romance, and courage. Things like that.” Roman said, walking closer. His boots clicking against the walkway’s pavement.

He stood close by yet just far enough for Virgil not to feel like he was being dissected under his gaze. It was an unreasonable thing to think after all the time they had spent becoming friends, he knew that. Yet part of him continued to scream that one day Roman would look at him and find out how horrible he thought himself to be and never want to be around him again. Maybe that was why he refused to confess just how much he liked Roman. It was a weight that crushed his chest every day yet made him feel dizzyingly light.

It was all too complicated.

“What about the purple ones?”

“It kind of varies by shade, but most of the time it’s about love at first sight or enchantment. A lot of the flowers here have to do with that sort of thing.”

“Yeah, should’ve been able to figure that one out myself.”

Roman shrugged. “It’s no matter, I just want to make sure you understand what they mean.” He looked to Virgil, again with that unnamed emotion. “You do get what I’m trying to say, right?”

For a moment, he hoped he did.

“Uh, yeah? Princey, I get it, you’re a hopeless romantic. You don’t have to spell it out for me.” He bit the inside of his lip, then asked. “What are they for?”

Roman looked at him with what he could only see as sympathy.

“I mean this in the nicest way possible, but I really do think you need it spelled out.”

Virgil scoffed, going to argue before he was cut off.

“First,” Roman began, reaching for Virgil’s hand, “You take him by the hand. That’s as far as you got before we both started screaming, anyway. So I suppose I’ll just have to wing it from here. I know I haven’t always been the best to you. I know I still make mistakes, and I really don’t want this to be one of them.”

“Roman–”

“I’m not finished. Virgil, out of all the other’s, you’re always the one who notices when I’m upset. You’re always the one who lets me bitch about Deceit without saying I was wrong for trusting him and then wrong for not. Really, you’re the only one I can bitch about the dark sides to, period. Logan is so reserved about it, and Patton is, well, he’s Patton. He tries to see the good in everyone.”

Roman paused, catching his breath. Virgil thought it best not to speak. He didn’t think he’d even be able to if he wanted.

“What I’m getting is that I trust you. I trust you because you’re my best friend and you listen to what I say even if it’s dumb. Because when I don’t feel like talking you're always down to just watch classic Disney movies and fill in coloring books. I know you don't realize it, but you do a hell of a lot more good than you believe, and I love you for that. You don’t have to say it back or even feel the same, I know you’re pretty reluctant about it. I just need you to know.”

Virgil stared at him, frozen like a deer caught in the headlights of love. Roman had said ‘I love you’ before, but not like this. What the fuck do you even do when your crush confesses they like you, more so, that you aren’t obligated to like them back? Complicated, and now surreal.

“You really mean it? All of it??”

“Of course I do, my Columbine Cutie! I could never lie to someone about love, I hope you know that.” Roman replied. Waving his hand as he conjured a mix of red and purple columbines, tucking them gently behind Virgil’s ear. Both knowing it was the truth, that Roman wouldn’t subject someone to such a thing because he knew how it felt.

But he still trusted Virgil with his love all the same. Trusted that it wouldn’t be taken advantage of or used against him.

“How long have you known?”

“You know, I think I fell for you far before I knew it.”

Virgil huffed a laugh. “Yeah, I uh… I think it was the same for me. Falling for you, that is.” God, it felt so weird to say it. Good, too. “I’m sorry I don’t know what to say. I never thought I’d end up here. I care about you too. I love you, I mean.”

And Roman… Roman just started to beam, shining like the sun as Virgil tripped over his words. He bounced, hands waving as he did. Despite his lingering fear, Virgil couldn’t stop the excitement Roman radiated and the wonder of it all from seeping in under his skin, a feeling like vibrations that he could only try to shake out. And there were hands cupping his face and there were words he didn’t hear. He still knew what they asked. “Fucking yes.” was all he could bring himself to give as a response before Roman’s lips were on his.

Strawberry chapstick and the faint scent of cherry blossom perfume were all that went through his head, it was the only thing that really could. He held onto Roman’s uniform like if he let go it would all disappear. Another dream reminding him of what he thought he couldn’t have.

When Roman pulled away and Virgil opened his eyes, he was still there.

He was real. Everything that had happened was real. He couldn’t help but giggle at how fantastical it was.

Roman brushed his bangs away, just enough to fully show his eyes. “Your eyeshadow changed again,” he announced, bouncing on his heels once again. Virgil groaned, turning away. “It’s a good look for you. Especially with how much you blush, my Lavender Love.”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“It’s adorable.”

Virgil knew from the grin on Roman’s face that it had only intensified.

“Whatever. I just– for what it’s worth– I appreciate it. All of this. I’d probably die never telling you shit about how I felt if you didn’t do it first.”

Roman softened, “Maybe, or maybe you’d end up pushing yourself like you did to Thomas. Either way, I’m happy with it if you are.”

Virgil nodded, the two going silent. Roman rocked back and forth still quietly bouncing, probably thinking of what to say next.

Slowly, Virgil opened his arms, smiling nervously to his crush– lover– whatever they were. He wasn’t all that open to touch, but Roman was so far off from everything else it didn’t matter. The prince smiled, pulling Virgil close to him and pressing a kiss to his magenta-colored hair.

“I’m happy to be your knight as long as you want me to be. Whatever it is that gets thrown our way, I’ll fight for you as you have for me. You deserve to shine every day like you are now.”

“Jesus, Princey. You already made your dramatic love declaration, but... thank you. I want you to be happy too.”

The two held each other, and for the moment, everything was okay. No dark sides, no fear, no challenging life debates. It was unescapable, of course, but it didn’t matter. They could survive and fight this hell of a world. They could make the other realize how lovable they were. Because they had each other.

#Sanders Sides #Prinxiety #Roman Sanders #Virgil Sanders #prinxiety fic #your validation. hand it over SDLCVFH #ugh bye im gonna cry about this #Virgil's Volumes

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cherryrogers · 4 years

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➸ call me baby {2/3}

SUMMER NIGHTS

pairing: bucky barnes x reader | biker au

warnings: swearing, violence, implied smut, mainly fluff.

word count: 7.8k

synopsis: Returning to Brooklyn for the summer after a year of travelling from city to city, you hadn’t expected to find your best friend, Peggy Carter, hopelessly in love with a biker. And when she decided to introduce you to the rest of his club, you hadn’t expected to fall for one either. That was until you met one with pretty eyes and a habit of calling you baby.

series masterlist

a/n: ok so this has turned into a three part series!! the next part will likely be a bit shorter, but i wanted to wrap up the story properly and i felt that needed it’s own separate part. i’m gonna post a masterlist for this series tomorrow, and i might write some drabbles for this fic to add to it once it’s finished if anyone has any hc/drabble ideas they’d like to send in?? i need to stop rambling so much lmao,,, please enjoy!!

Sunsets; consisting of an array of warm tones, reds and oranges bleeding into each other, casting a dim, natural light over cities before the artificial yellow beaming of street lamps lit up the world instead. A comforting reminder that every bad day eventually ends, but a sad reminder that every perfect day ends too.

In your case, they’d been unsettling ends to a continuous string of perfect days. And following those, a bright sunrise poured light through your windows every morning, indicating that you were one day closer to the end of the summer.

Currently, the deep, warm sky was the background of a blissful ride through the city. Perched on the back of Bucky’s motorcycle, your arms enveloping his waist, fingertips grazing lightly over his stomach through his shirt. No destination in particular; just an excuse to be close to one another.

Since the night at Wanda’s bar, the night where you simply let yourself begin to feel for Bucky, things had been different. Better.

Rides around the city were a frequent occurrence, usually happening when Bucky offered to take you home on his bike, but taking the long way back to enjoy the view and the feeling of you next to him for a short while longer.

It was therapeutic, tranquil. Well, until your road rage got the best of you.

“Dude, it’s a green light,” You shouted at the car in front you. “Green means go, didn’t you learn that in kindergarten?”

“Christ, you realise you’re yellin’ straight in my ear, right?”

“Sorry, Buck,” You patted his chest apologetically, before proceeding to yell once again. “Not my fault some people don’t know how traffic lights work!”

It was entertaining to Bucky, anyway. Even if it did earn you some middle fingers, which you gladly returned.

As the sky began to lose its vibrant hue, the two of you headed back in the direction of your place, definitely your least favourite part of the ride, but you savoured it nevertheless.

You were friends. Teasing each other incessantly because you just bounced off one another like that, but you often found yourself gravitating towards him. During meals at the clubhouse, you sat in the same spot as you did when you entered the place for the first time; right next to Bucky. While that likely meant for Steve and Peggy that they were in for a painful time, consisting of them slowly losing their patience with you both, they didn’t mind. Well, they did a little.

It’d been almost two hours since you started your game of Monoply. You weren’t sure if you were anywhere near the end of the game, but everyone was still pretty into it. Clint and Sam were paired up as a team, Steve and Peggy shared the little top-hat token, you and Bucky had the wheelbarrow, and Natasha had the car. She claimed she worked better when was on her own team, which was proved to be true by the fact she was winning.

It was Steve and Peggy’s turn to roll, and their top hat was moved to land on the ‘Boardwalk’ space.

“Oh, that’s our space!” You chirped. “Pay up, my dudes.”

“_____, you don’t have a house on that space.”

“Well, could you pass me one? I want this space.”

“You have to buy one.”

“Then I’ll buy one.”

Peggy sighed. “It’s not your turn, you can’t buy a house. Your token isn’t even on that space.”

You furrowed your brows, turning to Bucky. Maybe you should’ve read the rules before playing; you’d never actually played Monoply before. “Oh. That kinda sucks then.”

After a moment, Bucky reached over to the little bag of houses, picking one out and placing it on the Boardwalk space.

“Buck, that’s cheating.” Steve glared at his friend, who only shrugged innocently.

“She’s never played before, let her just have the damn house.”

“You’re only sayin’ that ‘cause she’s on your team, jerk.”

Bucky just shrugged again, turning to shoot you a wink as you smirked in satisfaction and placing your little house on the space, missing Steve and Peggy sharing a look of annoyance as they passed a pile of yellow bills over to you.

It was safe to say the two of you weren’t allowed to play as a team during board games anymore. Natasha always won the games anyway, so it’s not like you and him cheating made much of a difference.

You thought things were moving smoothly with Bucky. You knew that you liked him, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he already knew that — it was pretty fucking obvious at this point. But it would be a rather dumb move to escalate things even if you wanted to. The summer would be over in two months, one third of it was already gone, and you would be too by the beginning of September. Naively, you’d told yourself that you simply wouldn’t take things further. Easy enough, right?

Wrong; so very wrong. You’d proved to yourself that you seriously needed to stop acting impulsively on one fateful after a day spent at the clubhouse.

You’d been about to leave, but had decided to head off to the office where Bucky had been pretty much all evening while everyone else was out in the backyard, which was odd considering you would’ve assumed he’d be the last to not spend the night drinking beer and hanging out with friends over, well, anything else.

You knocked loudly on the door, hearing shuffling and the clicking of a computer keyboard before a quiet ‘come in’ followed. Furrowing your brows, you stepped into the room, eyes landing on the biker slumped in the chair at the desk, forcing a small smile. Did he really think your were that oblivious?

“You’ve been hiding in here all night,” You approaches the desk, crossing your arms over your chest. “Is there something you wanna share with the class?”

Bucky’s eyes flickered between the computer screen and your face, before he shook his head. “Just dealin’ with club stuff.”

“Hm, and what counts as club stuff?”

“It’s stuff you don’t need to worry about.”

You scoffed. “Huh, what happened to not doing stuff you shouldn’t be? Not getting into trouble?”

“Do you ever mind your own business?” Bucky questioned bluntly, though there was a smirk tugging at his lips.

Mirroring his expression, you leaned against the desk next to him. “Not when someone is clearly trying to hide something.

The biker bit the inside of his cheek, contemplating for a few moments. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you. Sure, he’d only known you around a month now, but you were... his friend. A good friend. He just didn’t want you mixed up in anything dangerous. Steve wasn’t lying when he said that the club tried to stay out of trouble, because they definitely didn’t go out of their way to get into shitty situations. But if they needed to get their hands a little dirty to deal with clubs that thrived off trouble, then so be it.

Eventually, Bucky sighed, moving a hand back over his computer mouse and letting the screen light up again. Crinkling your brows, your eyes scanned the screen. He’d been looking at a map of Brooklyn, and the little red location pointer was pinned onto a warehouse downtown.

“Peter Parker, he’s just a kid. Parents died when he was barely five, lost his uncle a few years back. He lives at home with his aunt in Queens since he’s still in school, but we sorta took him in a while ago. The night after his uncle died, Tony found him on the sitting on the curb a few blocks away from here, completely distraught. He managed to talk him down though, and found out he was pretty good with engineering. We said if he wanted, he could help out with fixing bikes and cars at the clubhouse, and he comes by every so often since then.”

You didn’t know Tony that well; he was a little older than the rest of the club, and he lived outside of the clubhouse with his wife, Pepper. You hadn’t met Peter at all, but you trusted Bucky when he said that he was a good kid.

“Last week, he showed up to the here with a busted lip and broken nose. Said that Rumlow and his guys had jumped him, and that they wanted him to do a job for them — collect a weapon shipment from this warehouse.” Bucky nodded towards the screen.

At the mention of Brock Rumlow, you felt your jaw tighten. Thankfully, he’d kept his distance from Wanda’s bar since your last encounter with him, but you were still pissed off about the show he put on there, and there was nothing you regretted more than not jumping over the bar top and kicking him in the balls. Now he’d resorted to threatening a kid and making him do his dirty work?

“So, what’s the plan?”

“Peter’s meant to meet the guy delivering the weapons next week, so I’m gonna take Nat, Sam and Tony down to the warehouse and deal with any of Rumlow’s guys that are nearby.”

Upon seeing your face light up, Bucky chuckled, standing from his seat. “And no, you can’t come.”

“Bucky, I’m not a woman of many talents, but if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s handing people’s asses to them.” You lifted your chin confidently.

“Baby—”

You held a finger up to shush him. “Okay, I know I said that I liked when you call me that, but not now. Brock is the guy that grabbed me, Buck. And the guy that punched you in the face!”

“I know, and we’ll deal with him,” A smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth. “Besides, I thought you weren’t part of any club. Can’t do club stuff if you’re not a member.”

“Well, not that I want to... but how would one go about becoming part of your little gang?” You weren’t lying; you definitely did not want to be a damn biker, but you did want the chance to boot Brock Rumlow and his group of dipshits in the face.

“You could become an old lady.” The biker cocked a brow, and you chuckled heartily.

Not that you were up to date with the biker lingo, but you could take a good guess at what being an old lady meant. “Hm, if only there was someone that wanted me to be their old lady.”

Narrowing his eyes, Bucky glanced over your features, waiting for you to laugh and brush the comment off as a joke since the majority of your vocabulary was sarcasm, but you didn’t. The corners of your lips curled up slightly, not teasingly, but softly...

...Until you became painfully aware of the silence that’d fell upon the two of you, and let out a sigh to break it. It was already late when you were supposed to leave, anyway. Now, the dim moonlight was casting shadows outside of the office window, the only source of bright light being the yellow streams from lampposts dotted up and down the quiet street.

“Well, I should get going.” You reluctantly stepped back from him.

“You don’t have to go, you know. Peggy stays overnight when it’s late.”

You chuckled. “Yeah, cause Peggy has a boyfriend that she can share a bed with.”

“Hey, I’ve got a double bed.” Bucky teased, and you’d be lying if you said sleeping next to him in his bed didn’t make you feel a certain type of way.

Though, you definitely wouldn’t let him know that. “You’re stupid, Bucky.”

He shrugged, following you as you continued for the door of the office. “I mean, even if I had a single—”

“I would still not be getting in your bed,” You deadpanned, finishing his sentence for him and promoting the stupidly hot little smirk of his to appear again. “Okay, now I’m leaving. Goodbye, Bucky.”

“I’ll give you a ride.”

“No you will not,” You breathed out a laugh. “There are two bottles of beer on that desk and death isn’t on the cards for me tonight — can’t get rid of me that easily.”

A look of realisation washed over his face, a pink colour tinting his cheeks. Was Bucky Barnes blushing? That was certainly a sight, and what a sight it was.

“S’alright — I don’t wanna get rid of you,” The biker stepped in front of you, dangerously close as your back hit the door. “Not yet, anyway.”

You couldn’t lie; Bucky was hot, he was beautiful. Even when he was being a sarcastic ass, but he was just as much one of them as you were. God dammit, as much as you wanted to slap yourself for letting your insides melt for a guy you didn’t know all that well, you knew that if you didn’t fucking kiss him right this second that you’d regret the hell out of it later.

And so, you did.

You grabbed the collar of the leather jacket he never failed to make an appearance without— or perhaps he just had a lot of leather jackets, though leather jackets didn’t necessarily need washed so it was probably the same jacket— not the time, _____. Carrying on, you swiftly captured his lips with yours, relief washing through you as you felt him react almost immediately. Almost, he definitely wasn’t expecting you to do that.

The kiss was gentle; gentle enough so that you could simply savour the feeling of his lips on yours, the taste a mixture of smoke and minty chewing gum. It was slow, but quick. Bucky didn’t even have the chance to move his hands to your waist before you pulled back, raising your hand to trace his bottom lip with your thumb.

“You still planning on getting rid of me?” You grinned, amused by the biker’s dumbfounded expression.

He laughed breathily after a couple of seconds, nose nudging yours playfully. “Not if you keep kissin’ me like that, baby.”

“Hm, maybe you’ll just get lucky again.” You pushed at his chest softly, letting you step forward and open the door to leave the office.

Bucky let out a scoff. “You’re really just gonna leave? After that?”

You shrugged, cocking a brow. “I mean, I could stay if you let me come with you next week...”

“No chance,” He smiled smugly. “Shut the door on your way out, will you?”

“You know what? I’m never kissing you again.”

“Whatever you say, _____.”

You rolled your eyes at his cocky tone, turning to make your way out of the room. “And I’m leaving the door open!”

“Hm, get home safe.” He called back.

Trying to bite back a smile as you looked over your shoulder back at him, you mouthed a final goodbye and left the office, a rush of feelings suddenly emerging as you stepped out of the clubhouse and onto the street.

You’d just kissed Bucky. You had kissed Bucky. And he had kissed you back. Well, shit.

Did you need to talk about it with him? What it meant for the two of you? Did he just kiss you for the fun of it or did he actually have feelings for you? Ugh. You’d always hated serious conversations, because apparently using sarcasm to cover up actually talking about your feelings was inappropriate and unhealthy. That’s what Peggy always told you, anyway. Perhaps there was no conversation to be had. Bucky could be your summer fling; a couple of months of fun before you were off on your travels again. The only reason he kissed you back might’ve been because he knew you were leaving eventually, which meant he didn’t have to commit to you.

Whatever — you were simply going to go with the flow. If you and Bucky ended up becoming... something more, that would be great. If not, you’d be slightly disappointed, but you’d be out of Brooklyn soon enough to forget about it.

And now, as you tightened your arms around the biker’s waist, you just enjoyed the moment. As someone that rarely stayed in a city for longer than a couple of weeks, enjoying the moment was all that you could do.

* * *

“Pegs, I am working. You can’t just call and ask me this kinda stuff during a shift.”

“I certainly can, especially when I had to hear it first from Steve.”

A strained sign fell from your lips as you leaned against bar, checking that no customers were approaching the counter before you turned your back. “I was gonna tell you, I promise. I didn’t think Bucky was gonna kiss and tell as soon as it happened.”

“I don’t think it was exactly a kiss and tell situation,” Peggy chuckled over the phone. “Steve said it was written all over his face after you’d left the clubhouse.”

Feeling heat rushing to your own face, you lowered your head, hoping no one was observing the bartender getting all embarrassed. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to tell Peggy about your kiss with Bucky. She was your best friend, of course you wanted to tell her. But considering that you weren’t really sure what direction you and him were going in, you thought perhaps that it’d be better to just keep it between you and him, like a Danny and Sandy situation — if everyone had known about their summer affair, it wouldn’t have been the same.

“Can you... tell him to not question Bucky about it?” You asked. “You told me he’d never been in a proper relationship before and neither have I. I think we need to work out... whatever we are ourselves, you know?”

Since the kiss, you hadn’t had the chance to even see Bucky that much. Wanda had been asking you to work more shifts at the bar because one of your co-workers was going on vacation for two weeks, which you didn’t mind doing. Other than hanging out with Peggy and seeing everyone at the clubhouse, it’s not like you had much better to do. Plus, it meant more money to put towards your travels at the end of the summer. At the rate you were earning and including what you already had saved up, you’d be getting your dream London trip a lot sooner than you’d thought.

“Of course, I understand,” She replied. “_____, I— I don’t want to play devil’s advocate, but have you thought about what’ll happen when summer ends? When you leave Brooklyn?”

The thought had crossed your mind, yes, though it was also pushed to the back of your mind whenever it popped up. In all honesty, you had zero clue what’d happen when you left Brooklyn again.

“Nope,” You said defeatedly. “Do I need to think about that now? What if we don’t even last until the end of summer?”

From the pause in conversation, you could just tell that Peggy knew you were bullshitting. “Okay, I’m going to pretend you did not just say that. You don’t just kiss guys, _____. And Bucky doesn’t get all flushed from kissing any old woman. It’s obvious you two click easily, and I honestly don’t think it’s something that can just end once you leave.”

The girl was right, she was completely right, but you weren’t sure what the hell you were supposed to do. It’s not like you could stay in Brooklyn forever and abandon your travels. That wasn’t who you were; staying wouldn’t be you being true to yourself. You couldn’t throw that away for a man you barely knew, a guy that possibly may not want you anymore after the summer ends, though there was a large part of you that didn’t believe that.

“I can’t talk about this right now, Peggy, I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the kiss earlier, everything is just... it’s just confusing,” You rambled, wanting to steer the conversation away from your love life for the night. It was nearing nine o’clock, and with an hour still left of your shift, you didn’t want to waste your energy on a conversation that could be had another time. “Anyway, how is everyone? Has Steve heard from Bucky?”

This night was also the night that poor Peter Parker was meant to be carrying out Rumlow’s dirty work, and Bucky was going to get his club to back off. Well, hopefully. He’d already been punched in the face by that bastard once, you hoped that he’d be able to avoid having that happen again. You’d texted him earlier, telling him to let you know when he was home and safe because you would, in fact, worry about him. He teased you for your concern, but you frankly didn’t care. The fact they were having Peter pick up a weapon shipment implied that they wanted to use them to hurt people, and opposing biker clubs seemed like the type of people they’d target.

“They’ve been out an hour, so they should hopefully be back soon,” Peggy assured you. “We haven’t heard from them yet, though.”

“Right,” You exhaled, a little upset that there was no update from them. The sound of the door opening a few metered behind you reminded you that you were still at work, and that you should probably say goodbye to Peggy for the time being. “I’ve gotta go, Pegs — duty calls. I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Alright, darling. Be careful going home.”

With a quiet ‘will do’, you quickly ended the phone call and shoved the device into your jean pocket, turning around to identify the source of the footsteps getting closer to the bar. Well, fuck.

An ugly smirk, scruffy jaw, messy hair — Brock fucking Rumlow was standing right in front of you.

You could’ve laughed, in fact, you did laugh. He was back, even after the embarrassing show he put on last time he was at the bar, and this time, he was alone.

Putting back the glass you’d pulled out from under the bar on instinct, because there was no way you were serving him, you cocked a brow, waiting for him to make the first move.

He slid onto the stool in front of you, the same place he’d sat during his last visit. There was a short silence as his dark eyes roamed your face, before he exhaled heavily. “You not gonna ask for my order?”

“No.” You answered instantly. It looked like he was expecting the cold shoulder from the way he chuckled at your answer.

You wanted to ask what he was doing here, why he wasn’t down at that random warehouse making sure the teenager he manipulated was doing the job correctly, but you didn’t imagine it was a good idea to let on that Bucky was telling you about that sort of stuff. He’d probably try to hurt him as opposed to you, and you didn’t want to put Bucky in any unnecessary shit.

“You know, it’s against the law to refuse service to an innocent customer.”

Clearly, he didn’t know the law at all, but you found it awfully ironic that he was claiming that you were in the wrong side of the law. You cocked your brow higher. “And you’re always abiding by the law, Brock?”

“What makes you think I’m not?” The man narrowed his eyes.

“I don’t know,” You shrugged nonchalantly. “Last time you were here, you were the one assaulting an innocent customer, and me.”

Brock scoffed. “You’re calling Barnes innocent?”

You only stared at him, waiting for an elaboration.

“Do you know where he is right now?”

Yes — dealing with your bullshit and the rest of your gang.

“Enlighten me.”

“A dirty warehouse across town, meeting a dude that’s sellin’ him weapons. Rifles, pistols, you name it.” He leaned forward on his elbows, pursing his lips.

Chewing on your bottom lip, you met his eyes, dark and full of hope that he’d somehow miraculously turned you against Bucky -- he was going to have to try a little harder than that if he wanted to sell his lies.

“Where are the rest of you pals, Brock?”

He furrowed his brows. “Down at the warehouse, shutting down the deal.”

“And why aren’t you with them, hm? I don’t think it’s ‘cause you decided you wanted a drink over the chance to screw Bucky and his club over.”

The guy clearly thought you were oblivious, that you’d be naive enough to believe that Bucky was the one having Peter collect the weapons instead of him. Maybe he thought it’d turn you against him, and then you’d carelessly join Rumlow’s club without a second thought. Even if Bucky hadn’t told you anything, there wasn’t a thing that could come out of Rumlow’s mouth that could convince you Bucky’s club was doing anything of the sort.

Unfortunately, the comment seemed to tip the conversation in the exact way you hadn’t wanted it to.

Brock’s jaw clenched, eyes hardening as he sat up properly on the stool. “What’s he been tellin’ you, huh?”

“I think it’s time for you to go, Brock.” You glared at the man. There was no way you were letting him sit and annoy the shit out of you when you weren’t going to serve him.

“You see,” He laughed emptily. “If Barnes has been spillin’ things that he shouldn’t be, I need to know. Can’t have any false information spreading.”

“False information, right,” You muttered. In your defense, all you knew about his club was about them manipulating Peter. Though you could assume that wasn’t the only stupid shit they were doing, you didn’t know anything else for sure. “Well, you’re wasting your time. I don’t know anything, so get out of here.”

Brock tutted, rising from his seat and cracking his knuckles. “You’re a good liar, but I ain’t buyin’ it.”

“That’s not my problem,” You glowered, loving quickly around the bar to pace towards the door, opening it in an attempt to lure him out. “You need to go, or I’ll call Wanda over.”

Stalking towards you, the man shook his head. “If Barnes thinks he can tell his little girlfriend all of our business, he’s a fucking idiot,” He took a grasp on your wrist, his other hand curling into a fist. “Someone’s gotta show him what the consequences of that are.”

Anger flashed in your eyes as you struggled against his grip. “Get off me, dude. I don’t know anything.”

“Liar.” He murmured, before taking his fist and colliding it with your cheek abruptly.

A groan of pain left your lips as you stumbled back, the clutch on your wrist gone as Brock eyed you cautiously. Carefully, you brought your hand to where you’d been hit, blood quickly staining your fingertips as they grazed over the cuts on your skin from Brock’s rings. He’d hit you. That stupid, fucking son of a bitch had punched you. If there was any justifiable reason for you to kick him in the balls, this was it, and you were going to take advantage of the opportunity.

He definitely thought you were done with him for the night; you could tell by the way his chapped lips curled into a sick smile. He thought he’d won — how cute.

When your parents made you take self-defense classes ‘just as a precaution’ when you were a teenager, you thought it was unreasonable. Now, you’d never been more thankful.

Brushing your hair out of your face, your eyes flickered up to Brock, who was still staring down at you. Slowly, you moved so that your back was pressed against the closed bar door, clasping your hands around the long metal handle. The man assumed you were just catching your breath, and wasn’t ready for when you forcefully pushed your body forward, raising a booted foot and slamming it into his crotch.

A string of swear words fell from his lips as his upper body fell forward, Fuck it, you thought, striding over to his hunched over form and smashing your own fist against his cheek. He staggered back, just catching himself on the bar. Eyes wide, he raised his head to scowl at you, spitting blood from his freshly split lip onto the floor beside him.

From the other side of the bar, Wanda jogged over to the scene, an unimpressed scowl on her face. “What the hell is going on?”

The woman knew it wasn’t you causing the trouble, and there was even a smug smirk threatening to peak through her annoyed demeanor at the sight of Brock Rumlow with a split lip. She strode over to him, pulling him up harshly by the collar of his jacket.

“You’re banned from this bar. If I see you in here again, you’re getting a bullet straight through your gut, yes?” Wanda practically spat at the man, who nodded reluctantly and pulled away from her grasp. She turned to you, a small smile on her lips. “_____, you’re free to go early. Do you need...?”

Wanda eyed your cut cheek and bruised jaw, but you only shook your head. “Thanks, Wan, but I’ll just head home.”

The strawberry-blond nodded, sending a final glare towards Brock before heading back behind the bar.

Of course, your stubborn self wouldn’t let yourself leave without having the last word, causing you to approach him as he haphazardly stood from where he’d fallen. “If I ever have the displeasure of seeing you again, and you try to hurt me or anyone else, I’ll cut off your fingers and force them down your throat, you got that?”

Before you could wait for an answer, you were spinning around and heading out the double doors of the bar, ignoring the throb on the left side of your face as a satisfied smirk crept onto your lips. You’d never considered yourself to be a violent person, but when it came to assholes like Brock Rumlow, you didn’t mind getting your hands a little dirty. When you told Peggy about what happened, she’d likely scold you for even just mouthing back at him. You had zero regrets, however. You’d always wanted to experience a bar fight, and now you’d experienced one first hand.

As if on cue, your phone buzzed in your pocket. Stretching out your aching knuckles, you swiped it from your jeans.

Back at the clubhouse safe and sound. You want me to pick you up from work in an hour?

You chuckled under your breath, typing out a response.

Can you come up now? Wanda let me off early.

Sure, I’ll be there soon. Did you do something special to get off at this time?

Pausing, you debated whether to let him know straight away about the incident. You decided against it; when he saw your face, he’d figure it out soon enough.

Something like that...

After twenty minutes of aimlessly standing outside of the bar, the familiar roar of a motorcycle engine caught your attention. As the bike came to a stop, the beaming headlights had you squinting to even make out the outline of Bucky in the dark. However, judging by the speed at which he was dismounting the bike, you were sure that the light had allowed him to see the state of you.

“Holy shit, _____,” Bucky paced over to you, hands coming to your shoulders. “What the hell happened?”

You let out a hesitant laugh. “Uh, rough shift?”

Scoffing, the biker narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, looks like it. What— are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” You assured him, removing his hands from your shoulders and squeezing them comfortingly. “Trust me, you should see the other guy.”

“You were fighting?”

“Bucky,” You intervened, for now deciding against telling him that it was in fact Brock Rumlow you’d gotten on the wrong side of. It’d only result in him marching into the bar himself and starting another disturbance, and you wouldn’t be surprised if Wanda pulled out her pistol again. “C’mon, can we go? My house, the clubhouse, wherever — I’ll explain when half of my face isn’t aching like hell.”

The man paused, eyeing you cautiously before a soft chuckle left his lips. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” You patted his chest, plastering on a smile. “Now come on; I didn’t wait this long to clean you up when you got decked across the face.”

With an amused eye roll, Bucky tugged on your hand and led you to the bike. He’d never seen someone so calm after getting a punch to the face, but then again — as cliché as it was — he’d never met anyone like you before.

Half an hour later, the biker had you sat on the counter-top in one of the bathrooms at the clubhouse, standing between your legs and gently dabbing at your cut with a wet cloth. The bleeding had stopped by the time you got to the clubhouse, but it still needed cleaned up. You were holding a cool ice pack to your jaw, watching him intently as he took care of you. Might as well take the opportunity to stare at the guy, right?

“I’m gonna put some antiseptic cream on the cut, just to make sure it doesn’t get infected.” He muttered, reaching for the tub of it in the wooden cabinet above you.

“Are you getting a sense of déjà vu too?” You quirked a brow, eliciting a smirk from him.

“Hm, a little bit; I guess we both just can’t avoid trouble,” Bucky cupped your jaw as he applied the cream, chuckling when you mumbled a ‘motherfucker’ under your breath at the sting. “You gonna tell me what happened?”

“Well,” You sighed. “Long story short... Brock Rumlow happened.”

Pulling back, Bucky furrowed his brows and waited for you to elongate the story, but you only shrugged, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. You knew that Brock being involved would only fuel a rage that he couldn’t relieve.

He bit the inside of his cheek, a frustrated laugh falling from his lips. “Rumlow did this to you? Why didn’t you tell me at the bar? Was he still there? I would’ve went in there and—”

“I know exactly what you would’ve done; why do you think I waited until now to tell you?” Though you were smiling, Bucky was still understandably apprehensive. Pursing your lips, you grabbed one of his loosely clenched fists and held it in your lap. “I meant it when I said ‘you should’ve seen the other guy’ — Brock’s face looks the same as mine and he got a boot to the balls. Plus, I think his ego was bruised enough without someone else going in there and knockin’ his lights out.”

Sighing, Bucky shook his head, unable to suppress a small grin. He never underestimated your power; anyone would be a fool to do so. When you were angry, you showed it. When someone hit you, you hit them back harder, metaphorically and literally. It wasn’t even that you had a short temper, you just didn’t put up with people’s shit, and Bucky highly admired that. “Well, I’m jealous of anyone that was there to see it — I bet it was damn hot.”

You scoffed, though seconds later you were shrugging in agreement. “It definitely was, you would’ve loved it.”

While he returned the first-aid stuff to their rightful places in the bathroom, you explained to Bucky what had gotten Brock so riled up. He wasn’t surprised that Brock tried to convince you that he was the bag guy in all of this; he’d tried to do it with Peggy too when she first started dating Steve. In his misogynistic mind, he thought that women were naive enough to be persuaded of anything that he wanted them to believe, and that by getting you on his side would mean he’d ‘won’ over Bucky. Perhaps he’d learned his lesson that night to not underestimate a woman’s power — dumbass.

Down at the warehouse, they’d managed to get Peter out of there before the person delivering the weapon shipment could arrive. There were one or two of Rumlow’s guys there keeping watch, but without him, they ran away like scared children. You teased Bucky about being a ‘big bad biker’ as he explained the night to you, but he insisted it was Natasha that had them crapping their pants; she never usually made an effort to hide the set of knives on her hip, and she apparently had a death-stare that could have anyone shaking in their boots. With him being banned from Wanda’s bar and unsuccessful with his plan of using Peter, they doubted Brock Rumlow would show his face around the area for a while. He’d only be embarrassing himself if he did.

Not long after your cut had been tended to and the pain in your jaw had subsided, you found yourself once again fighting the temptation to stay the night at the clubhouse — the temptation being a whiny biker named Bucky Barnes.

“But you’ve had a rough day,” He bargained, following after you as you made your way to the front door of the clubhouse. “It’ll save you the ride back if you stay.”

Chortling lightly, you turned around to face him. “A rough day? Buck, I gave an asshole a well-deserved kick in the balls, I’ve had a great day.”

“But what about your cheek? It might start bleeding again and—”

“Bucky,” You cut him off, biting back a smile. “Why do you really want me to stay?”

There was a short pause, heat pooling in the biker’s cheeks at the question as he raised a brow, silently asking you if he was supposed to actually answer the question. When you only quirked your own brow, he sighed, his lips curling into a fond smile. “...because I don’t like it when you leave? ‘Cause I like you a whole lot and I really wanna kiss you again?”

Slowly, you trailed a slightly bruised hand up his chest, stopping at the nape of his neck to tangle your fingers in the hair there. “You should’ve just lead with the kiss, biker.”

Before you could notice the doting grin on his lips, Bucky had looped an arm around your waist and pulled you flush to his chest, soft lips locking with yours tenderly. Your other arm was quick to wrap around his neck as you found yourself wanting to be impossibly closer to him. You tugged at his hair, eliciting a deep moan from his lips, and you pulled away with a satisfied smirk.

“So you’ll stay?” Bucky spoke against your lips, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

“If you keep kissing me like that.” You imitated his words from your last kiss, to which he shook his head and clasped his hand around yours, leading you out of the hallway and up to his room.

You hoped the rest of the club were asleep, because from the thump of your body being pushed against Bucky’s bedroom door after he’d dragged you inside and shut it, you were sure that they could assume who was causing the racket at almost midnight.

Bucky’s mouth was on yours in a matter of seconds, hands cupping your jaw, carefully avoiding pressing against the side that was bruised. Meanwhile, your fingers gently traced across the hem of his t-shirt, riding it up so that the pads of your fingers came into contact with his lower stomach, ghosting over the waistband of his jeans. He stepped back momentarily, shoving his leather jacket down his arms and letting it fall to the floor.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without your jacket,” You breathed. “It’s like you’re naked already.”

“Who said anything about getting naked?” He teased, hands coming to trace over your own exposed stomach. “Someone’s eager.”

“You’re stupid,” You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress a grin. “Coming from the guy who just said he liked me, sap.”

“Real mature,” He snickered, riding your shirt up to your chest and tugging it off when you raised your arms to aid him. His lips moved to the crook of your neck, trailing light kissed along the soft skin there. “I meant it, though. I really like you, baby.”

A whimper escaped your lips as his attached to a certain spot on your neck, your hand fisting his shirt in response. You didn’t even have to say it back; it was obvious that you felt the same way about him in pretty much every way. The way your body was reacting to his, the breathy way that his name was falling from your swollen lips, and the fact you’d kissed him the week prior was a good indicator too.

“And you said you’d never get in my bed.” Bucky smirked after helping you pull off his own shirt.

“Technically, I’m not in your bed yet.”

“Yet,” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear before trailing his hand down your jaw, along the curve of your shoulder and down to the hem of your bra. “Can’t wait to have you there, moaning all pretty for me.”

Your face grew hot at his words, but his lips were on yours again too quickly for him to notice. When he eventually pulled back for air, you bit your lip in anticipation.

“Hm, let’s not wait any longer then.”

And he didn’t let you wait any longer, leaning down to kiss you with a passionate hunger as he dragged you by both of your hands to his bed. Maybe it was the way he didn’t rush, that he took time memorizing every inch of your skin with gentle lips and wandering hands. Maybe it was the sighs and moans of pleasure that he’d managed to draw from you so easily, or the way he whispered praises and sweet nothings into your ear as he positioned himself comfortably between your legs. But after the two of you had reached your highs and were left grinning like idiots and panting for breath, you realised how fucking hard you’d fallen for the damn biker who’d somehow gotten you in his bed.

* * *

Soft snores gradually drew you from your slumber, eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks before you eventually squinted your eyes open. It couldn’t have been any later than 5am; daylight was peaking through the curtains of the bedroom, but the world outside was still quiet. Quiet for New York, anyway.

Bucky had his arms tucked under his pillow, face buried into the cotton, lips parted, brown strands of hair falling in front of his face. Back muscles relaxed, shoulders raising slightly as he breathed quietly. He looked pretty like that, innocent even. Innocent in comparison to what occurred in his bed the night before.

As you idly observed him in his peaceful state, you couldn’t help but think about what Peggy had said to you earlier the prior night. She was right, as always. Especially after the night you’d just had with him, there was no way that your feelings for Bucky would just leave along with you leaving after summer. Perhaps sleeping with him was the stupidest decision you’d ever made. Perhaps it would’ve just been easier to not stay the night and pretend like you’d never kissed him in the first place. But you didn’t want that. You wanted him, even if you could only have him for the summer.

A muffled moan jerked your attention away from your thoughts and back to the man laying next to you, who was shifting as he began to wake, the muscles in his back flexing as he did so. It was a sight you could get used to for sure.

Soon enough, his baby blues met yours, a lazy smile overcoming his lips. “Watching me sleep?”

“No.” You denied, though he could see straight through the lie.

He hummed, reaching a hand out to trace over your bruised cheek. You leaned into the touch. “Still hurt?”

“Not really. Had a good doctor fix it up last night.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Uh-huh. I mean, he slept with me afterwards which I thought was a little inappropriate...”

The biker scoffed, enclosing an arm around your bare waist to pull you closer. Sloppy kisses were planted down your jaw to your shoulder, ghosting over the dark bruises he’d marked you with only hours ago.

“I’ll miss you, you know. When you have to leave.” Bucky murmured, pulling away and laying back down against the pillow, his nose grazing yours.

You smiled sadly, pushing some of the hair away from his face. “Do you think this was stupid of us? To start something that’s just gonna have to end in a month?”

“Maybe, yeah,” He mirrored your expression, voice still a little raspy. “But I don’t regret it.”

“Me neither,” You twirled a lock of his hair sigh your pointer finger. “What’re you gonna do without me, huh? You might have to find another girl to take rides with you at sunset.”

Bucky shook his head, squeezing your waist. “Nah, I think I’d rather ride solo. Won’t be the same without you just over my shoulder.”

“Even when I get road rage?”

“Especially when you get road rage.”

“Well, we should probably make the most of the time we have left,” You propped yourself up on one elbow, a smirk playing on your lips. “How about a ride while the sun rises?”

“Sounds perfect.” He loosened his hold on you, letting you roll away from him and swing your legs over the side of the bed.

“Mind if I take a shower first?”

“Mind if I take a shower with you?”

You thought for a moment. It’d be saving water, wouldn’t it? “Screw it, why not. C’mon, Buck.”

You scurried off to the bathroom, still naked as Bucky followed after you, suddenly not so tired anymore.

Perhaps the summer hadn’t went in the direction you’d been expecting, but you had no complaints about the turn that it’d taken. You’d never believed in fate or destiny, much like you’d never believed in love. However, you’d like to believe that you were meant to meet Bucky when you came back to Brooklyn at some point. You’d never met someone— someone so perfect for you, if you were being honest. He didn’t scold you for your sarcasm, or shame you for standing up for yourself. He responded to your teasing with his own, he knew how to make you laugh, how to make your cheeks hot and your knees weak. You were always on the exact same wavelength, always knowing how the other was feeling, being able to bring out the best in one another.

It seemed like a waste to spend the little time left at home thinking about summer ending, so you simply pushed it out of your mind. Enjoying the moment was something you’d learned to do over and over again, because that was all you could do in the life that you led.

The moments spent with Bucky Barnes were just going to be a little harder to let go of.

* * *

Taglist:

@domolovee @oplunket16 @barnestruck @igotkatiepowers

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #biker!bucky #biker!bucky x reader #bucky #bucky barnes reader insert

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scone-lover · 3 years

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Happy Birthday to Holding Out For a Hero!!! ❤️

art by @subparselkie

I published the first chapter of my longest and most popular fic just about a year ago! And I bet you always wanted to see some shitty outlines. Right? Just giving the people what they want. My brain is chaos and now you all have to be subject to it. Strap in, boys. 😂 Everything’s below the cut!

Read Holding Out for a Hero on AO3

This fic was born because I saw a tumblr post about a hero and villain who are roommates and I just had to Snowbazzify it. I had so many random ideas in my brain, and I’d been engaging with fan content for the CO fandom for a few months now.

So I started off by opening a blank document and writing the Prologue, featuring Shep. I had a few basic facts in mind: Shepard’s a reporter, Simon’s a hero, Baz is a villain, Mage is an evil mayor. And that’s. Literally it. I made it up as I went along. I actually still do that with fics, even though I do try to outline in more detail now—I have to write a scene or two that’s been bouncing around in my head to get a feel for the story, then I can give it a direction.

The document is 337 pages on google docs, LOL.

Here’s the first ever set of notes I had. I wrote this on March 29, 2020, directly after typing out the Prologue!

Like I said, absolute chaos. The third Simon bullet point originally said something like “also I’m a superhero and only Penny knows,” then the following day I changed it to “but he’s so handsome? what do???”

I didn’t publish the prologue until writing 5-6 additional chapters, but I think the only major change was going from Baz being “The Vampire” to just “Vampire.”

Chapter 1 was originally called “not a bloody avenger” before I decided to do the rhyming thing. I actually decided that because I wrote “counter spray and earl grey” down for chapter 2, unintentionally rhyming it, and then @ashspren-writes was like, “you should make them all rhyme”... so I did. 😂 For 25 more chapters.

I have a section labeled “quickie backgrounds” in which I finally sat down halfway through writing Chapter 2 (the blade/vamp fight) and said to myself, okay, maybe they should have backstories or something. Or like, reasons for being the hero and villain. Right, yeah, those would be good to make this into a coherent story. In the first version of that, Simon was a sports coach on the side, not a baker, and Baz was an English teacher. LOL.

Once I had all that, I literally just wrote for four days. There’s a weird kind of magic to your first-ever fic for a fandom. All your ideas and thoughts and wishes for these characters comes to a head as you suddenly have an outlet for the first time. It’s why I think people’s first works are often their best or most creative or most profound. The first couple chapters took some time and a couple 1am epiphanies, but once I got into a rhythm it was quick going. I wrote a lot of it in a linear manner, but after writing the first Simon/Baz scene (watching the news together in the flat), I doubled back and added Simon going to Penny’s house after meeting the Mage so that I could work her in as a character earlier.

Fast forward to April 5, I had 5-ish chapters written? I thought this fic would have like... 10 total. And be less than 20k. Haha. Ha. I asked @ashspren-writes to beta read for me - I’d been bouncing ideas off her since the beginning - and then I started brainstorming titles.

The list actually started with that second one. It took a whole 24 hours to decide on the final title. 😂 I thought it might be too cheesy. But hey, it worked out -- now I can’t open AO3 without the damn song getting stuck in my head.

I worked a LOT with my friend @ashspren-writes on this fic - we were friends long before fandom, and she was the only person I knew at the time who had read CO and was involved in the fandom. I didn’t even have a tumblr at this point, I interacted mostly through Instagram and AO3!

On April 6, right before I posted, I realized that if I was going to actually put this on AO3 I should probably know where the story was going. So I made sure Chapters 1-6 were complete, then I wrote one bullet point per chapter up until 12 or so -- you can read those below.

Then I texted ashspren THIS mess:

Some silly notes:

Then I have a section that says “Why do they even have roommates?” because it was a few chapters in and I hadn’t justified richboy Baz and superhero Simon... living together. Cool cool cool

I also did this cool little writing experiment I want to share. Remember that line in Fangirl that’s like—“Once Cath wrote what she thought was a swordfight, and Wren turned it into a love scene.” (Or maybe it was the other way around? LOL.) Anyway, there’s swordfights in this, AND love scenes, so I wanted to do a play on that for two alternate ways Simon might figure it out.

I have a huge Deleted Section in which I wrote an alternate version of Simon and Baz finding out about their secret identities. I have one version where Baz figures it out first—it’s a very tropey yet angsty scene where Simon comes home totally wrecked from a fight, and Baz realizes as he’s helping with the wounds that he caused them. I actually like it a lot, but it ended up not quite fitting with the vibe of the fic (and I rather like them finding out through kissing better). :) I also had an idea where Simon figures it out because Vampire smells like cedar and bergamot, but it really just wasn’t interesting enough. 😂

Now onto... Outlines.

I say that hesitantly because I think these are literally a disgrace to outlines everywhere. These are the baby ones I wrote on April 6 right before posting. Some are more detailed than others, clearly...

Gotta live up to my username somehow.

We do love to see it.

I love this next one: 😂 CHAOS, SCONEY.

THEN, I wrote this as a very long text to ashspren, when I realized no sconey, this is not going to be under 20k words. LOL.

And then I did A Dumb Thing and I put it on AO3, having absolutely NO CLUE WHERE THE STORY WAS GOING. 😂

This is my favorite heading on the document.

Another one of my favorite notes in there.

This next part wasn’t even divided into chapters yet, it’s just a word vomit. I’m so sorry you have to read this mess.

Hahaha, once upon a time there was angst in this story. 😂

And then I realized my true calling: bakery fluff.

Then and only then, I actually decided to divide into those things called Chapters. This is the point where I made the admission to mr scone (boyfriend, not husband lol, we just call him that) that I write gay fanfiction, whoops, and can he please help me because he’s a HUGE DC comics fan and knows everything. And of course, he was super chill about it, and he did. He really did. He’s the genius behind Egghead!!! And also the entire Mage-Humdrum-Supercomputer/Politics plot. I’m serious. I did none of that.

I can’t even say I’m trying anymore. “Flort”??? I AM LITERALLY NOT TRYING.

Why yes sconey, so very specific. 😂

This is what qualifies as a “good” outline for me, that heading was just for my betas. Isn’t it fabulous to see that some of this actually made it in and I’m capable of planning in advance? 😂

Get ready for the shock of your life, though -- I actually have a SUUUUPER detailed outline for the two finale chapters. Because, well, it’s the finale. Wrapping up loose ends does actually require planning, WHO KNEW. Also I’d been writing and posting for a couple months at this point and it had been several more weeks in quarantine so maybe I’d regained some sense of reality? It’s like two pages but still shittily written, so I’ll just share a couple tidibits.

That bullet point is extraordinarily cracky BUT actually, Baz shooting up from the cloud like an awesome fucking hot dramatic person was one of the very first scenes I envisioned for this fic :D

I hope you enjoyed this glimpse into my writing brain! It’s a terrifying place. I love all of you that say Holding Out For a Hero is a well-crafted masterpiece, but respectfully, no ❤️

(Though I swear I AM super, super happy with how it turned out - it’s still my favorite thing I’ve ever written. Read it here!!!)

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fczco · 4 years

Text

her and the moon, JJ Maybank

masterlist on bio

a.n: i posted this a few months back but it deleted when i deactivated my old account, so if you feel it familiar that's probably why :) english is not my first language so I'm sorry in advance for any mistake.

words count: 1,3k

warnings: alcohol, maybe a bit of swearing.

(gif not mine if it's yours please tell me so i can give you credits)

I was at John's B house and everyone else was talking about this party being held by one of the kooks that night, Y/N hadn't say a single word since the theme was brought up by Sarah and i perfectly knew why.

- "come on it would be fun" said Sarah with her arms in the air.

- "i mean, they always crash ours so why wouldn't we crash theirs?" everyone agreed with what Kiara just said, except for Y/N.

- "What do you say Y/N?" i asked because i wanted her to be comfortable and i knew this type of things were not at all her comfort zone.

- "i'll do whatever you guys do" she slightly smiled at me and i smiled back.

- "you sure?" i asked her again just to be sure even though i could see she wasn't, Y/N just nodded.

- "great" Sarah happily said.

We stayed there for like another forty minutes and then i walked Y/N to her house.

- "you know that we always can just stay out of it and watch some movies while we eat ice cream or something like that" i said as we approached her home.

- "it's ok JJ, i do not want to be the boring one" i looked at her with my left hand on my waist, "seriously, maybe it ends up being fun, who knows?" she smiled at me.

- "i swear to god, you're something else".

We said goodbye and i kept on walking until i reached my house.

I entered the house and started looking for my friends, and when i was going to give up i saw Kie laughing with Pope in the backyard, i ran towards them.

- "hey man" Pope and i did our not so secret hand shake.

- "Have you seen Y/N?" i asked waiting for them to know.

- "we arrived like twenty minutes ago and she disappeared like fifteen ago" Kie answer my question as she drank the beer left on her red plastic cup.

- "didn't you see where she went?" i really wanted to know how she was doing.

- "hey JJ what's up" John B had just arrived.

- "not much, have you seen Y/N?" i kept on asking.

- "i think i saw her going to the roof probably like five minutes ago" he pointed with one of his fingers to the metal stairs outside the house that went up.

I didn't even say thank you and went directly to the side of the house where the stairs were placed and started going up. When i arrived at the top i saw her sitting while facing the other way, knees up to her chest and her face rested on them. Her hair made waves along the fresh air of the night and i couldn't help but think about how amazingly beautiful she is. She was wearing a sky blue crop top, white loose shorts and her usual converse. I walked up to her and sat down on her side, there was a beautiful sight of the ocean and the stars and moon in front of us.

- "you were right" she said after a few seconds of just sitting there.

- "about what?" i asked while looking at how the waves crashed on the coast.

- "about coming here, i should've stayed home" i felt her gaze on me.

- "we can go if you want to" i suggested while embracing my knees as she was doing with hers.

- "nah, i like it here, you can barely hear the loud shitty music" i giggled and noticed how she shivered, i took off the red hoodie i was wearing and gave it to her, "thank you, that's very kind of you" i watched her putting the piece of clothing on.

- "i love you" i said very low but she heard me anyways.

- "what? i couldn't listen to you" Y/N said as she was placing her head inside the hood.

- "nothing" i extended my legs not giving importance to it.

- "ok you weirdo" she laughed at me and positioned her body between my legs, facing the ocean while her back and head rested on my chest.

We were in silence for some minutes, just me, her and the moon. This is what i liked about her, we could be in silence for hours and it would never get weird, every time i arrive at her house with a new bruise or cut from a fight with my dad she doesn't make any questions, she's always there and i know there's no way she'll ever judge me for anything.

- "what do you think will happen when all this high school shit is over?" she suddenly asked.

- "in what way exactly?"

- "i mean, what are you planning on do?" she turned her face a little to look at my eyes and i gazed down so i could see hers.

- "what am i planning on do?" i asked, she just nodded, "i didn't really think 'bout it, getting a job or something"

- "but, you're staying on the island right?" she sounded concerned?.

- "of course i'm staying here, i can't go anywhere else" i paused and hugged her as a cold breeze passed, "besides that, i don't want to leave the island you know, i've never gone anywhere else and i love it here".

- "me too" Y/N said.

- "i thought you were going to study at the University of Colorado? we've been talking about it the whole summer" I was surprised by what she was saying, it was pretty much the only thing she'd talked about in the last month.

- "i was" i looked down at her again, she scrunched her nose, "but then i realized that it was never my dream, i mean, before my dad brought it up it had never crossed my mind, and i don't think i like the idea of it, i've never gone out of the island too" i smiled "and i would never survive more than a week without seeing you" i hugged her again and kissed her head as we slowly swayed side to side.

- "i said something before" she nodded, i needed to tell her now that i know she's not going away, "it's something i didn't tell you in the past weeks because until know you were gonna go away in a few months and i thought it was worthless but now i'm kinda feeling like i should tell you ".

- "spit it out pretty boy" T/N said as she ran her hand through my hair, i smiled to that.

- "ok so, we've known each other since when? it feels like forever-"

- "it actually is, when we were like three years old you used to cross the street all alone and ask my mum if you could play with me, i never understood how you managed to start talking 'properly' before than i did" she laughed.

- "sshh let me finish love, and as you said i would never survive more than a week without you 'cause you're the only person that keeps me sane and can actually calm me down" i glanced at her and she was smiling, "and i know that i'm probably not the best person you'll ever meet and that you could do so much better but-" i couldn't stop talking because her lips were already on mine, they were cold but soft, we both smiled through the kiss.

- "i heard you before" she said while placing her head on my chest again and looking at me.

- "you did?" i asked, confused as why she didn't say a thing.

- "yeah" she smiled, "i just played dumb to see what would you do" i kissed her forehead.

- "so, what you say?" i asked.

- "about?" she answer back with another question.

- "about spending the rest of our lives stuck in this place" i laughed at my own words.

- "i'll actually would love to"

We were in the roof the rest of the night, making out and laughing at our own bad jokes, and even after the party ended we were still there, watching the sunrise.

I've never felt more comfortable and calm in my short life, and i have to admit that if being stuck in the island for the rest of my life is going to be like this, i would never change it for anything else.

#obx jj #jj x y/n #jj maybank #jj outer banks #jj imagine #jj one shot #obx fanfiction #obx x reader

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wonderwomanfantasy · 4 years

Text

Blood, Baths, and Bakugou

thank you for kicking things off annon! and before anyone asks this is the draft I posted accidentally 🤡

Bakugou x reader

word count: 1,200 (about)

warnings: Nudity, swearing, mentions of injuries and violence,

summary: you are convinced you can handle this by yourself, your hot-headed boyfriend? not so much...

You eased yourself back into the bath, the scalding water was maybe not the best idea for your marred back but you didn’t care. You cursed and fought back tears. The once clean water was already starting to darken with the filth that covered your body, and the blood that oozed from your cuts.

You huffed and did your best to ignore the sting, you grabbed a washcloth and began the grueling task of scrapping away the grime that covered you. Your hands shook with the effort, you could barely apply enough pressure to make even a dent. Suddenly the bathroom door swung open and hit the wall with a bang. you jumped, sending some of the water flyings. You yelped in surprise, but it was just Katuski.

“I am a lady you know? you could at least pretend to care about my modesty,” you grumbled but didn’t even bother trying to cover your naked body. you were so caked in rubbled and blood he probably couldn’t see much anyway.

“you’re a fucking moron,” Kastuki growled ignoring you and looking pissed off as ever in the doorway of your bathroom. He marched towards you sneering. He was still in his hero costume, he must have come straight from work after he saw your battle on the news.

“Look at you you’re a fucking mess!” he barked stopping next to the tub “(y/n) why the fuck didn’t they let them take you to the hospital?” he demanded you dropped your eyes unable to meet his blazing red eyes.

“come on It’s not that bad,” you mumbled, it was a lie and both of you knew it.

“(y/n) you are bleeding out in our fucking bathtub,” he shouted kicking the tub for emphasis. you just scoffed and rolled your eyes. It had been a nasty fight and Bakugou was right, as much as you hated to admit it, you probably should have let the paramedics take you away.

“I’m fine I just need to get this shit off of me,” you insisted and went back to scrubbing blood off your arm. he kneeled by the tub

“you could have died (y/n),” he whispered, making you pause he was never quite like this, not unless he was really mad.

“there were reporters there Kasuki,” you whispered hoping that would be enough to make him understand. it wasn’t.

“What did one of those fuckers shove a mic in your face or something?” he growled angrily.

“No- it’s just. you wouldn’t understand,” you sighed. He was a good Hero, Stronger than anyone else no one questioned his rank or skill, so how could he possibly understand your position?

“Just get out of here so I can get cleaned up,” you snapped which made him wince.

“eat shit, I’m not leaving you alone,” he responded then snatched the washcloth from your hands “you’re doing a shitty job cleaning yourself up anyways.” he bit down on his glove and yanked it off with his teeth the pushed up his sleeve before dunking his hand in the hot water.

Despite his aggressive personality, he was gentle when he touched you and he did a better job of cleaning you up then you would have done your self. your eyes fluttered shut. you relaxed in the tub moving whenever Katsuki prompted you to do so, then he got to your back, where the worst injury was. he sucked air through his teeth sharply.

“Fuck, look what they did to you,” he muttered to himself mostly. he didn’t even try to touch you, every other bruise and cut was small he could deal with those but this was a whole other level. he sat back looking at you

“explain to me what went through your dumbass head when you said you didn’t need help,” he demanded in that same quiet tone of voice that scared you.

“dose it matter Katsuki?” you snapped “I didn’t think I needed help so fuck off alright?” you told him.

You knew how what people thought about you, you were weak, too weak to be a real hero, every time you were in a fight there were whispers about how it would have been over quicker if it was another hero, every injury you got was proof that you weren’t good enough. the Reporters were there, recording your every move what would they have said if you had accepted help? if you had shown the world just how breakable you were?

If it had been Katsuki, he wouldn’t have even gotten hurt and if he had, no one would have dared called him weak, it would just mean the villain was unbeatable.

“Hey look at me,” Bakugou said softly cupping your cheeks. “Come on I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me Hotstuff.” he purred. you laughed lightly at the stupid nickname. your lower lip wobbled as you fought back tears.

“I don’t want people knowing how weak I am,” you whispered finally. he looked surprised.

“They all look at me Like I’m pathetic and I just couldn’t let them think they were right,” you said, the first tears started rolling down your face. Katsuki brushed the tears from your face and shushed you lightly.

“come on (y/n) you aren’t weak, you’re the strongest bitch I know,” he muttered “and anyone who thinks different clearly has never fought you,” he added soothingly. you smiled at that. If it was anyone else you might have thought they were just saying it to make you feel better. But If he had thought you were actually weak he would have told you so.

“thank you Katsuki,” you sniffled, he gave you a small smirk

“you want to know something?” he asked you nodded eagerly. he let go of your face to rub the back of his neck

“during our first year, during the sports festival.” he started “when you were up against Kaminari, and you kicked that dipshit’s ass, That’s the moment I knew I was in love with you,” he said in a moment of rare vulnerability. you couldn’t help but laugh, even though it hurt.

“katsu that’s- really?” it was sweet, if not a little weird.

“you were just really hot when you flipped him like it was nothing.” he reminisced making you laugh even more.

“who would have thought you were so romantic,” you laughed. his smile widened

“only for you Hotstuff, Now come one we’re going to get you dressed then straight to the hospital, I think you need stitches.”

“and If anyone calls your dumb ass weak for needing medical attention I’ll blast them to hell,” he promised. wrapping his arms around your midsection and hoisting you out of the filthy water. you hissed in pain as he hooked his arm under your waist.

“Sorry, sorry,” he muttered.

“it’s okay,” you muttered blinking out the stars that clouded your vision.

“Katsuki, thank you for this, and for everything,” you whispered.

“Shut up loser don’t get sentimental on me now,” he scoffed holding you closer to his chest despite how soaked you were. you were glad to hear him back to his normal self, some of the worry gone from his voice. you really did love him.

#katsuki bakugou #bakugou #bnha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou imagine #bakugou x reader #imagine bakugou #my hero academia #my hero acadamy #my hero academia imagine

297 notes · View notes

firemblem-fics · 4 years

Text

Smitten Kitten [3]

one | two | three | four | finale

-> Pairing: Felix x Female!Reader | Hybrid!Au (mostly platonic idk)

-> Words: 1.6k

-> Warnings: Cursing, A Literal Karen, Mentions of Abuse (not too in depth, but still there), Manipulation, a Slightly Suggestive Conversation

-> Genre: Fluff, Crack, Some Angst

-> Summary: You never wanted to be involved with hybrids. They were risky and had too many rules for you. But what will you do when a little black and white cat that you take in turns out to be the very thing you steered clear of?

-> A/N: so I made two FE3H oc’s and also have gotten back into drawing so I was wondering ... how would y’all feel if I wrote and also posted some of my drawings and stuff here? it would give y’all more content and I’d probably be inclined to post more often lol anyways enjoy

“This is fucking stupid-”

“Stupid? Felix, you lied to me.”

You were livid. First this fuck-ass cat shows up in your life, worms his way into your heart even though you swore you wouldn’t get a hybrid, and then brings all kinds of trouble with him. If you weren’t already so attached to him, you’d just let the people- Doug and Karen- take him. But you couldn’t. You cared too much.

“It’s not that big of a deal.”

“It’s a huge deal! You told me that they didn’t want you, not that you ran away. Do you know how this can affect me keeping you? They can take me to court or something and get you back.”

“But you signed the papers, I’m yours.”

Your heart fluttered, but you ignored it. “You’re mine, but you also belong to these people. I can’t just take you from them, but I can’t let you go back to them if they were that bad to you- were they even bad? Or did you just not like them? Did you lie to me about that too?”

Felix’s eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t like them because they were bad. Look at ‘em. They don’t love anything except for the gold around their necks, especially not me. I was literally put in cat shows to earn money. If I ever got below first place, they’d…”

He shuddered and sat down on the edge of your bed. You leaned against the door, arms crossed. From the other room you heard talking. Ashe probably saw your front door open and came to investigate.

Felix couldn’t look you in the eyes. You looked so hurt. Not even angry- just hurt. “Please don’t make me go back.”

You sighed and dropped your arms. “I don’t want you to go back, Fe. But I- I don’t know what else to do. They’ve obviously got more money and if they take me to court they’ll win for being ‘better equipped’ to care for you.”

“But they’re not.” His voice was growing desperate. “You are. What if- what if we can prove the center that you’re better than them? Courts don’t deal with Hybrid ownership, the facilities do. Nancy does.”

At that moment, the door creaked open. Two red ears appeared first, then a mop of red hair.

Sylvain grinned and walked in, closing the door and throwing a wink Felix’s way. The cat bristled.

“Give me your phone.”

“I’m not cheating, I swear.”

“We’re not- fuck you, give me your phone, Sylvain.”

The dog practically whimpered and handed over the phone. Felix had a Cheshire grin as he unlocked it. Typical Sylvain to not have a password despite all the dumb shit on the phone. You tapped your foot impatiently, anxious for Ashe who kept the two other people occupied.

“So, what are you planning?”

“I’ll go back with them, but I’ll keep this phone. I’ll- I’ll take those audio messages and send videos and shit when I can. I’ll just have to be careful.” This was the most Felix had ever talked to anyone. His voice was shaky, despite trying to desperately hide it.

“Absolutely not. Felix, you're not going with them! Who knows what they’ll do-“

“I think me dealing with their shit for a few weeks will be worth it if I get to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Your eyes widened and so did Felix’s. He flushed a bright red after realizing what he said. Sylvain cracked up.

“I- I mean, as an owner. You don’t do those things, that’s all. I just-“

“Nah, nah, it’s alright, you little smitten kitten~” Sylvain still smiled. “We catch your drift.”

Felix huffed. “There’s no drift to catch! Fucking drop it! Drop the drift!”

He stood up and yanked the door open, scaring the shit out of Ashe. You followed him quickly, grabbing onto his sleeve as Sylvain went back to Ashe’s side.

“You don’t have to do this, we can find another way.” You whispered. Felix could clearly see your absolute distress at letting him leave.

He held your gaze and let out a sigh. “I’ll be okay. You and Ashe just keep a lookout for my messages.”

With that, Felix tugged his arm out of your grasp and walked to Doug and Karen. He didn’t say anything, just looked down at the ground, his head lowered.

Submission.

That wasn’t the Felix you had come to know. Felix was loud and didn’t take shit from anyone. To see him suddenly reduced to something resembling a kicked puppy- the irony- was borderline heartbreaking.

You couldn’t help but tear up as the door closed. Sylvain whimpered. Ashe, who was silent and confused the whole time, whipped around to you.

“What the fuck is going on?” He seethed. “You didn’t even put up a fight-“

“Take a chill pill, Ashie.” Sylvain went behind Ashe and began to massage his shoulders. Ashe slapped his hands away. “We’ve got a plan.”

“A plan? Y/N, listen, you’re not Claude. You’re not Yuri. Your little plans never work the way they should.”

“Just give this one a chance!” You practically pleaded. “Felix has Sylvain’s phone. He’s gonna send updates and videos on what they’re doing. Hopefully they’ll be enough to convince the facility that Felix is better off with me.”

“Or not! If you don’t remember correctly, the lady fucking hated Felix. She’d probably do whatever she can to make sure he suffers.”

“Maybe the fact that we’re fighting to get him back will prove that we care more than the others-“

“-who literally came to your door and wanted him back. I’ve got no doubt they’ll fight too.” Ashe sighed. “This will only work if they really do something.”

At that moment, your phone pinged. The notification was from Sylvain’s phone. A video from Felix.

You opened the message and pressed okay, shushing Ashe and turning up the volume. Felix was in the backseat of the car while Doug and Karen sat up front. The angle was shitty and the phone was extremely shaky. Felix was trying to hide the phone from them.

“Felix Hugo, what the fuck were you thinking? Leaving like that? After all we’ve done for you?” Karen’s voice was shrill and loud, not even hiding her anger.

“After all you’ve done for me? You’ve done nothing-“

“Shut up! You’re ungrateful. We’ve fed you and housed you. You’re lucky someone even does that for a dumb cat like you. You’re practically feral- unlovable!”

The camera shook a little harder at that word.

Unlovable.

Your heart clenched, but there were still a few more seconds to the video.

“I can’t believe you thought a girl like that would even care about you. See how easily she let you go? She didn’t really want you. See, Felix Hugo? See how worked up you’ve gotten me?”

Doug’s voice cut in, silencing Karen’s annoying distress. “Just wait until we get home. We’ll deal with him there.”

You were probably shaking even more than Felix at this point. ‘Wait until we get home’... you didn’t even want to think of the implications of that.

The video was pure manipulation. But… to some, it may not be enough to make them question Felix’s safety.

Unfortunately.

You texted back, “Just a little more. In about two days, we’ll contact the facility and try to get them to hear us. I’m so sorry.”

“You’re trying your best. Just… try faster.”

“Miss you already.”

Seen.

Hanging your head, you looked up at the two boys. You shrugged and turned off your phone. A few more days, you said. Could you even handle that? You were already so used to his presence. To have an empty household again was something you didn’t want.

Even if it was full of Felix yelling… it was kind of endearing. He was always angry when Ashe and Sylvain were around. It makes sense why other people would be put off by his personality. But he was just…

Defensive.

Felix had walls up that were practically impenetrable. Could that excuse the rude, borderline abusive words he said to others? No. He could only apologize and do better from that. But he wouldn’t get better if he was with Doug and Karen.

You put your head in your hands and began tearing up. “I just want him safe. With me.”

Ashe and Sylvain exchanged glances.

“Yeah, you want him with you. To be with you. To… share your bed, in a literal sense, right?” Sylvain’s eyes held a sly glint in them. You raised an eyebrow.

“What are you on about now?”

“You and Felix. You want him to be with you. You want to be with him…”

“What?”

“Do you have feelings for him? You wanna fuck that cat?”

“Wh- I don’t want to fuck a cat! He’s… he’s more human than cat. Hybrids are just people that can turn into animals…”

Sylvain rolled his eyes. “Hybrids are people that can turn into animals, have ears and a tail, go into heats, all that shit. You don’t want to deal with an angry feline in a heat-“

“Is that why you’re neutered?”

“I’M NOT NEUTERED. FUCK YOU.”

You just sighed and checked your phone again. No check from Felix, even though it hasn't even been five minutes since the last message. You were just scared.

Ashe got up and began to cook dinner for you, deciding that you weren’t fit to do it tonight. You protested, but ultimately complied as Sylvain laid his head in your lap in hopes of an ear scratch.

That night, you tossed and turned. It was weird without a little cat body at the foot of your bed. You couldn’t help but think of worst case scenarios, spanning from just not being able to get Felix back to rather… unsavory ideas of what could be happening to him now. You finally settled down and forced your eyes shut, hoping that your dreams would be better than your thoughts.

They weren’t.

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dumbfuck-mojave · 4 years

Text

FNV Companions React to Someone Being Aggressive Towards Rex.

@spidester basically came up with this idea.

TW: Mentions of violence against humans and animals. Some sexual flirtation. Swearing is the norm at this point

Fucking IDEK if these are out of character anymore we just roll with it. Also, shitty and inconsistent writing and react length ahoy. Also yes I lied and said this was going to be out last night but I got sick please understand-

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Arcade: Six had dragged him into Ultra-Luxe because once again, they were being stupid and trying to beat some sort of goal they had set for themselves earlier that day at the gambling tables. Rex had also come in with them, but had wandered off with his snout up in the air towards the kitchens. While Six was focusing on the Blackjack table Arcade heard a sudden yip and bark behind him and turned to see two people laughing and kicking the poor dog. They weren’t dressed like the people that would usually gamble here and they certainly weren’t a White Glove, so Arcade just assumed they were some travelers that didn’t know Six’s reputation and love for their canine companion. Also angry at the situation unfolding, Arcade briskly made his way over to them.

“Excuse me-”

“Fuck off.”

Now, that made Arcade very unhappy. Honestly, he expected them to be rude, but was still a little surprised at how quickly they shot him down, not even trying to start an argument or anything. Yet.

“Listen, gentlemen.” Arcade said sharply, “I suggest you leave now because you’d much rather deal with me telling you how vile of people you are than for my friend over at the Blackjack table getting word of what you’ve been doing to their dog.”

“Oh, tough guy, eh? Well guess what, we don’t give a shit about what you or your idiot friend have to say!” The taller of the men sneard, getting right up in Arcade’s face. “Fucking forget it, the dumb dog isn’t worth our time. They ran out of booze a while ago anyway.”

Arcade gave them a look of disinterest as the semi-stumbled out the door. He made….. eye contact?..... with one of the masked servers when he looked away from them, who also seemed relieved that the two men were gone, probably because they had trached dust and mud throughout the entire main room. Making his way back to Six, Arcade was going over scenarios in his head about what Six would do once he told them. Turns out one of his guessed scenarios was true. He did know Six very well after all. Unfortunately for the men, they had decided to sleep naked that night and Six had found out where they were staying through a few connections. A few hours later the men’s clothes were strung up on and lit on fire in the middle of Freeside, with the neat edition of shoving several hungry geckos into the men’s hotel room. The men ran out into the Mojave, naked and with a few flesh chunks missing from their body, while Rex gnawed happily on his Brahmin Steak in the Lucky 38.

Boone: A Legion party had ambushed them just outside of Red Rock Canyon as they were making their way towards Vegas from Goodsprings. The system they had was working well enough, Boone had managed to climb his way up on the hill to the right of the road and was sniping them from afar while Six was up close with their ripper. It was hard to get solid damaging headshots on them since they were those dumb helmets, but if he got lucky Six would get close enough to rip one of their helmets off so he could get a clear shot through their skull. Usually, there were 4 Legionaries in a party but Caesar must have really wanted Six dead at this point, so they were currently being surrounded by at least 12, possibly even more. As Six drop-kicked two legionaries into each other, Boone noticed one of the other Legionaries targeting Rex and backing him up against the Canyon wall. Luckily for Boone and unfortunately for the Legionnaire, there was no helmet in sight. Boone lined up the shot and it entered the target’s head with a whiz and a squish. As the now-corpse fell to the ground, the group of three reorganized amongst the carnage. Rex sat down at Boone’s feet and looked up at him, mouth open and panting.

“Don’t look at him like that.” Boone said in a monotone voice, making the Courier laugh beside him.

“Boone, you’re talking to a dog.” The Courier started on their way once again to Vegas, looking down at the dog now trotting beside them.

“You want to go see the King Rex?”

*Bark*

“Look who’s talking to the dog now.”

Veronica and Cassidy: The girls had decided to hang out together today, without the Courier. They also had Rex in tow and were currently sitting at the Atomic Wrangler’s counter. Both of these women were at least three bottles in each already and their laughter poured through the casino as Veronica slouched over and snorted at one of Cass’ merchant stories.

“There is *snort* there is no way he did that.” Veronica wheezed out, falling into another fit of laughter.

“He did! He just grabbed that fucker by his-”

Their conversation was cut off when a man walked over to them. Much too confidently, I might add. They both looked up at him in disgust and annoyance.

“So, what are two beautiful ladies doing out here all alone. You know, why don’t we all go upstairs and have a little *fun* together. ” The man leaned in so far he almost touched noses with Veronica. Rex had been sitting idly with his head in his paws on the floor until this moment. When the man leaned in, Rex growled and stood up, brisling at the man.

“Dumb dog.” The man grumbled, swinging out his hand and hitting Rex in the head. Now no one knew if the man had meant to hit Rex so hard that he slammed his glass dome into the counter, but it didn’t matter now. Veronica pushed up off the counter and shoved the man back.

“Who do you think you are?! First, you come up to two ladies who are CLEARLY disinterested in you, interrupt their good time, then you have the audacity to hit our dog?!” Veronica practically yelled, drawing attention from several others in the room. Two people in particular had the look in their eyes that was almost begging to see a fight.

“Listen, girlie, I do what I want, ok?” The man growled, cut off by Veronica shoving his back against the counter, “Oh, girlie, you want to start right now?”

“She doesn’t want to do anything with you. Nobody would.” Cass said as she finally stood up, looking over Veronica’s shoulder.

“Now come on ladies, no need to fight over me.” The man slurred, the beginnings of a wolfish grin on his face.

Now, Ronnie may be small but she has a power fist and can fuck some people up. In a flash, the man was on his knees with both arms straining behind him, courtesy of Cass. Veronica unveiled her power fist and a spark of fear appeared in the man’s eyes as she swung it dainlity near his temple.

“I could swing my fist sideways right now.” She started swinging faster and more aggressively, “And give you a good lesson about how to treat others around you with an indent on your head to remind you.”

“N-No!”

“Oh, come on. I’m sure it would be no trouble for my friend here.” Cass sneered, tightening her grip on the man’s arms, making him squeal out in man.

“Please, please! No!”

As the once confident man was damn near sobbing just at the prospect of getting hit, Veronica and Cass looked up at each other and grinned. Dragging the man outside, Veronica used her unarmored fist to hit him into a puddle of… something. The man stumbled to his feet and looked back in fear at the doorway. Then sprinted off.

“DAMN! NEXT TIME YOU START A FIGHT YOU BETTER BE ABLE TO FINISH IT!” Cass yelled after him before they retreated into the casino once more.

. On their way back in, two figures walked out the door, following the now out of sight man. Sometimes, if you want to see a fight, you just have to start one yourself.

Ed-E: *Pulls out laser canon* “Beep beepbeep bop'' Translation: “You bitch ass motherfucker”. Even if Rex sometimes drools on Ed-E or accidentally whips a ball at it’s shell, Ed-E will still protecc and attacc.

Lily: Ok no but honestly and sorry to disappoint but any scenario involving her reacting to this is just them fighting, her calling the Courier Jimmy, then absolutely rocking the perpetrators shit. Like, tear that person in half grandma. I wanted to write a longer thing out….unless

Raul: He and Six had decided to stop at 188 Trading Post for the night instead of attempting to walk all the way back to Vegas. They were low on supplies, tired and hungry, and Raul’s back was acting up again. Samuel was nice enough to let Raul lie down for a bit on one of the mattresses behind the bar while Six was focusing on cleaning their weapons and bartering. Just as he was about to drift off, he heard Six’s voice speak up above the radio.

“Don’t touch my goddamn dog like that!”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do you fucking piece of shit! Oh fuck-”

Raul stood up and peered around the corner to see a rather interesting sight. Six was straddling some random man and aggressively slapping his hands away when he tried to reach for them, all while screaming every obscene thing they’ve ever been taught, even some things in Spanish thanks to Raul. Samuel was looking very concerned at the bar, not wanting to get directly involved in this mess while Rex was barking his head off in the man's face. After Raul managed to drag Six off the man, he found out the man was an associate of Alexander and was talking about making a deal with him when Rex came up to him to sniff his hand. Agitated, the man reached down and put his fist around Rex’s muzzle, yanking him up on his back to legs. Nothing escalated past that point as Six had entered the picture by then. They eventually decided to just walk back to Vegas that night and extend their break home, but damn if Raul wasn’t impressed and kind of flattered at the way they gracefully told a man how they were going to cut out this tongue and feed it to rats. Raul is dad.

(The insult thing was definitely a nod to one of @nuclear-reactions posts)

Thank you for reading! Requests are open!

#original writing #fallout writing #my writing #fallout companions #fallout companions react #companions react #companions react to #tw: animal abuse #animal abuse mention #cw animal abuse #characters react #craig boone #raul tejada #veronica santangelo #rose of sharon cassidy #lily bowen #ed-e #arcade gannon #rex

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tonya-the-chicken · 4 years

Text

I wrote this post some time ago as a reply to someone and now I somehow want to post it again with some changes lol

TW: mentions of murder, referenced canon abuse and swearing

Let’s talk about redemption arcs and people’s overwhelming desire to punish fictional characters for what they did... Inspired by Endeavor hate ngl... I mostly speak about fictional charcters in this post so pllease, don’t go dumb and understand that fictional characters and irl people should be treated differently

I think sometimes people don`t understand why punishment exists in our society at all. Like, why couldn`t we just forgive? Why punishment is needed? Oh, I would like to talk about behavioural psychology, but it is kinda creepy so instead let`s remember what my teacher of LAWS said(idk what you call it in your bitchass America)

Punishment basically serves two functions:

Preventative (show others and a person that they can’t just get away with their deeds). Like, if you knew that there are no negative consequences, wouldn`t you do it? Wouldn`t you kill the old lady?

Correction and all work with a person in general (for example, you can be forced to go through some psychological help)

Also, I lied there’s one more: compensation. Like, if you stole something, then bring money back, you little shit. Or pay for therapy for your victim

So when we put it into stories and so popular nowadays redemption arcs (which I fucking adore if they are done correctly) we have 4 points out of this 3 cause the first one can be put into two

Character is punished to show others that this is not something you should do (it’s a kinda societal thing and has nothing to do with character in particular. This point in general is not interesting because it doesn’t drives changes in person by itself)

Character is punished so he himself would think twice before doing this shit again (we can’t know if person’s remorse is genuine so it’s better to simply scare them. But I can allow skipping this point if person’s remorse is clealy shown to be genuine and we as readers understand that. That’s probably the big distinction we, as readers, should see: while irl we never know persons true motives, work of fiction can provide them to us clearly)

Character changes and understands what is wrong in what he has done (the part of redemption we all love and enjoy)

Characters work hard to correct or atone for their mistakes

As we can see first two bullets has nothing to do with character development and serve for the purpose of maintaining order. The third one IS a character development and the last one is what makes people actually forgive horrible actions and not go ape shit I guess. But for some of us nothing is enough, isn`t it?

And there is one more shit that is often in redemption arcs and that shit is great and I fucking love it

Explanation of the character’s behaviour, their reasoning and motivation

I truly enjoy reading about WHY characters behave a certain way but people, remember, SAD BACKSTORY IS NEVER AN EXCUSE FOR YOUR ACTIONS. Same goes to your mental problems and hard life situation. The fact that behaviour can be explained doesn’t mean shit. Like, behaviour also follows certain laws and despite the fact that it’s sometimes hard to understand all the details we still theoretically can explain ANY BEHAVIOUR. Does this mean we can excuse any behaviour? HELL NO

So remember folks, “They had their reasons to do this” means nothing most of the time. “I wanted to try how it feels” is actually a valid reason to kill someone, you know. Of course, if crimes is not severe, reasoning suddenly can be very important like we won`t punish harshly someone who stole bread cause he is starving or cause he has kleptomania (I mean as a literal disorder). But even in that case you must pay back money cause like stealing is bad but eat the rich

let`s talk examples from bnha cause why not

Endeavour

We have Enji oh my baby you have done so much stupid shit you dumbass. Sad backstory even if will be brought up in the future, currently is not a focus of redemption at all. Like, he even doesn`t explain his behaviour too much. “He want to be the strongest, so he decided that even if his genes will make it to the top it will be enough. As a result, blinded by his goal, he abused his family”. Basically, it`s all the explanation we have right now. And if Hori stops at it I will be fine with it. Honestly, as much as I want to learn more about Enji’s past if Horikoshi leaves everything at this I would give him nothing but mad respect cause... This kind of shows that your reasoning doesn’t matter that much if you did horrifying things

So 3 points to redeem someone

Enji didn’t suffer any punishment for his actions (nightmares are considered punishment only if you believe in God. Also, too weak, God, try harder... And same goes for High-End). When I think about him being punished I actually worry about society’s reaction cause, like, he is number 1 hero and the fact that he’s an abuser will be, like, very shocking to simple people.Trust in hero will fall harder than my will to live during 2020. And honestly, media would just turn this into a drama possibly hurting other members of his family, like.... Enji being legally punished for his action would be an interesting plotline but in general I am not a fan

We see his genuine remorse and character growth. We all agree that he even is drawn differently now changed and trying to become a better person, yeah? Clumsily at first, but he genuinely works hard to be a better peron, hero and father. I can respecct that

Compensation… Well, you can exactly “correct” trauma so he should pay up for psychologists for each child he probably should follow the path of atonement and try to give them something he robbed them from. Like, go to family dinners with Fuyumi even though every last one of them is a disaster and nobody is happy to be there. Or make everything possible to provide Rei calm life with her children (like building a new house, yes, this is an amazing thing) or at least become *reducted cause I wanna this post to be serious and SFW*... Tbh I have nothing to say, he himself says multiple times that he seeks nothing but atonment, not even forgiveness

So like you better work bitch to make your family happy bastard... [And tbh they seem so much better then when I first wrote this post, I am so proud of you, my garbage fire man]

Overhaul

In no way is he redeemed but somehow people put Overhaul and Endeavor stans in the same category so here he goes

Kai has something Enji doesn’t: very good and detailed explanation, a plan, a smart reasoning. His wrong deeds were basically for a better good he believed in. But we all collectively hate him for what he done to Eri despite his actions having r E A S o n S. Dude has some MOTIVATION. So like yeah bros. It makes him an interesting character and he is an amazing villain but dude deserves to rot in prisons. He shows no remorse and I am gonna bet he won`t even think about somehow helping others. Dude is a shitty person. And I fucking love him

So let’s go for our 3 bullets again

Punishment. Yes, he is punished, he is in jail with both his hands cut off. Would it make people forgive him? Nah

Personal growth. I would like to see it but as far we saw barely no growth... Though maybe being in jail without quirk will make his brain work

Atonement... Dude has a Messiah complex, I ain’t waiting for that anytime soon

So I asked myself if I had two men: one who spent a sentence in jail for child abuse but is more or less the same person and another who wasn’t punished for his abuse but feel genuine remorse and actively try to make things better who will I choose? Of course, I will choose Pikachu

But is it possible to redeem Overhaul? I wonder if there`s a force in this world strong enough to make him become a better person. Welp... I am a sucker for redemptions, justt letting you know

All for One

Oh, he is irredeemable (and this is sexy). Why is he here? Cause, well

Even if he is punished there`s no punishment severe enough to describe how horrifying his deeds are

Even if he is to feel remorse… he has like 500 years or something??? And he didn`t feel anything killing people??? So why would he change today?

Even if he atone for what he’s done… I am to believe he started at least a civil war. You can`t atone for that bitch. You crossed all fucking lines, all fucking lines

AfO is literally the most evvil man in bnha... I don’t want to see him redeemed cause I love characters that are pure evil and I love the despair of realizing you can’t fix what you have done. Though you are free to have a different opinion! Who knows, maybe Horikoshi will make a classy redemption for him and I will scream out of excitement? Cause I am that kind of bitch??? Who knows! I just love to think Doctor Ujiko is gay for him

Anyway, why do people like to make this characters suffer? Like, Endeavor, Minoru, Overhaul, many others? Is this part of the “punishment” to feel like person paid for their deeds? Or do people just like fictional violence and punishing “bad” characters make them feel good about themselves? Who knows

I have no idea what this post is about I want to sleep and I like Enji though if you dislike him this is fine. I hope it was interesting reading this, love you all bye

Don’t kill me for my controversial takes, I am depressed

#overhaul #endeavor #all for one #redemption arc #bnha #bnha meta #yea I do classify my bullshit post as meta BYYE #bnha endeavor #bnha overhaul #enji todoroki #kai chisaki #boku no hero academia #don't take this too seriously though #original post was written when I was on heavy meds #so idk #my post #really hope you enjoy it #long post

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mikeshanlon · 4 years

Note

do you like astrology and if you do what signs do you think the losers are

Okay so shoutout @denbrough (mo) for helping me with this, also @stenbranlons (claudia) for nodding alongin our gc, I’m sorry we talked about this for like a week RGLKNRG. To preface,we are in no way astrology experts lmao, we pulled from several differentsources and picked which ones we felt fit best. Which, that being said, we didnot consider any of the canon birthdays for this, just vibes. Ik some peopleare very particular about astrology headcanons LGRNG so these are just our ownopinions, any differing ones are not less valid or whatever. Also, charts arevery complex and have many different factors, like Mercury for communicationand Venus for love, etc, we just decided to do the main three placements. Incase some of y’all don’t know, someone’s Sun sign is essentially their basicidentity and personality, it’s how we act in the world, and our conscious mind.Our moon sign is our emotional self, our unconscious, how we react tothings, our deepest needs. Some astrologists say this is more like our “trueself”. One’s rising or ascendant sign is our social personality, it is howpeople perceive us, and often how we perceive the world and new experiences—it representsthe “outward”. Some refer to it as the mask we wear around others, though thatdoes not mean our rising/ascendant is fake, but rather how we act and thinkwhen interacting with our environment. Anyways because this is me, theseexplanations became super fucking long so I’m sorry about that! This was superfun though, thank you for asking!

Bill:

Leo Sun: Leos are leaders, theyare very charming and pull people in with their loyalty, humor, and confidence.All of the losers love Bill and are very enraptured by him, Leos tend to be inthe spotlight and adored, so I think this is very fitting. They always want tohelp people but sometimes they can also get fixated and arrogant and end up neglectingwhat others need—for instance Bill being so fixated on finding Georgie that hedoesn’t totally realize the other losers are really scared and getting hurt. Still,Leos are very inspiring and fearless and want their people to be happy. Leosare also quite romantic and generous, which I think are traits that can beattributed to Bill.

Cancer Moon: Okay so I have alwayssaid Bill has Big Cancer Energy, but I think it makes most sense as hisemotional self. Cancers are caretaker types; they want the best for theirfriends and do whatever they can to help them. They are persuasive—sometimes tothe point of manipulation. Many Cancers are afraid of rejection/abandonment(hello Bill’s shitty parents and him holding onto the idea of his brother foras long as possible!) Because they are so caring and sensitive towards theirfriends, they can be quite moody—both anger and sadness. (Bill be Crying andpunching his friends sometimes doe!) Cancers like art and are very imaginative(Bill’s art and writing). When I think of Cancers, I think of tender h*rniness.They fall in love very easily and crave a deep love and can be v thirsty attimes lmao, to me that really encapsulates Bill. Cancer Moons are also verydomestic and love comfort, and while I think Bill likes to go on adventures, Ithink he is someone who enjoys a sort of domestic routine with the people heloves from time to time. Cancer also rules the moon so he’s Extra EmotionalLNRGRG.

Aries Rising: Those with Ariesrising are often leaders, lively, generous, warm, and have a reputation ofbeing a troublemaker. They are rash and jump into situations (HELLO BILL KINGOF DUMB IMPULSE DECISIONS). But, they are very engaging and can be greatmotivational speakers (Neibolt speech teas). They want to help friends to thepoint that if they refuse, an Aries rising individual will refuse to acceptthat rejection. Furthermore, sometimes they can come off a bit like arrogantassholes, but they really do care about their friends and just want to helperklgneg. Aries rising people are very emotional and their impulsiveness cansometimes translate into rushing serious relationships.

Mike:

Libra Sun: Libras are very diplomatic;they bring harmony and balance and can see multiple sides. I think this fitsMike very well, for instance during the scene where the losers are by the PaulBunyan statue, Mike understands why Stan is looking at this logically but healso understands Bill’s emotional reaction. He also understands why Bill andBeverly think they should stay together and help, but he also understands whyRichie/Ben/Stan don’t want to keep going. He tries to get everyone to calm thefuck down and cooperate. Libras hate conflict, aside from Mike’s nonviolence(not wanting to kill the sheep and hesitating to hurt Henry until he knew itwas life or death), he also avoided telling all the losers about why he askedthem to return, showing sometimes his aversion to conflict can be a negative. Librasoften get fixated on one thing—the crazy conspiracist Mike of it all… Iunderstand why people think he could be a Taurus because of his commitment tothe losers and staying in Derry for 27 years, but I think that is super tied tothe idea of bringing justice for those who P*nnywise killed and will try to kill,Libras are super into fighting against injustice. Also, Libras are ruled byVenus and love love and are very charming, I think Mike has a certain pull andmagnetism about him.

Taurus Moon: Individuals withtheir moon in Taurus are very warm, affectionate, and sentimental. They like togather all the facts but can be somewhat impressionable, again I think thismakes sense with how he decides that he believes pennywise exists and hisresearch as he stays in Derry. Speaking of, this line from Mo’s book killed me:“when you’re confronted with a problem you look for the most effective way todeal with it, and even if it’s personally painful for you, you get it handled”.Like. Oh my god. They also like creature comforts—often Taurus is linked withluxury but I think in this sense his ‘luxury’ is his kitschy clutter of thingsthat hold sentimental value—supernatural items, knick knacks from his childhood,his favorite books, etc. He holds these dear and this is probably why his homeis a big ol mess but he likes it and finds it cozy. Speaking of, they are veryromantic and want a life of domesticity, which feels very Mike to me! Theyinvest a lot in their friendships, I think this is true of Mike as well seeingas you know.. he sacrifices years of his life so they can be happy.

Capricorn Rising: Those withCapricorn rising can be quite shy with strangers, but once they get to knowpeople, they are very friendly and warm. They are very dedicated to theirgoals, these goals are often to strive for a better life (Mike wanting to savethe people of Derry, Mike wanting to travel, etc). But sometimes this strivingcan make Cap risings feel unfulfilled and they continue to search for somethingmissing. Capricorn rising individuals are smart and concentrated, they are ableto parse through information and plan ahead, though sometimes they go overevery detail too much—Mike is very into research and understanding things andsearches every possibility. They love deeply and are very loyal and protectiveof those they love. They can worry a lot. Mo also added that cap risings are dependent,reliable, and stable. which can be attributed to mike staying in derry allthose years and keeping that promise to call them. Overall he’s very groundedand down to earth with his rising/moon!

Stan:

Virgo Sun: Virgos are veryanalytical and pay attention to the little details. Often times, this leads tothem being very critical of themselves and others, and they are prone toworrying. I think Stan is someone who tries to navigate through life logically,but he can get caught up in the anxieties of everything going wrong and getoverwhelmed. They often like animals and nature (not to be like Stan likesbirds and plants and shit but he does GLKNRG), and value cleanliness, sometimesthis leads to germaphobia or hypochondria especially because Virgos tend toworry (and we know Stan is a germophobe and deals with OCD, he has to clean thebloody bathroom in a certain way, the painting needs to be perfectly straight,etc.). In friendships, Virgos usually play a role of an advisor—they are veryloyal and want to solve problems but sometimes that means they find problems ineverything (I think Stan tries to advise the group but also Bill is like okaylet’s do it like this

Pisces Moon: Some people view Stanas very emotionless or even angry, but I think he’s quite emotional, he justtries to operate with logic first. Pisces moons are often described as ‘dreamy’and want to escape reality (Stan being like it’s summer let’s just forget what’sgoing on and… other stuff lmao). They are very emotional, but those emotionscan be hard for others to read because they are very mysterious, and even hardfor the individual to express. They have a strange sense of humor (kookiekookie lend me your bonessssss). Those with Pisces moon are very sweet andsensitive to others suffering and are drawn to those in crisis often (like.Literally all of the losers LKGNRKRG) and can be overly trusting (I swear Bill!!!).They are also very afraid of the past coming back to haunt them… :(. Mo the ultimate Stan stan also had this to say: ever since claudia tagged one ofmy posts about stan being one of the most emotional losers but no one evertalking about it, i'm constantly thinking about how stan reacts to things. myinitial reaction was scorpio moon, but scorpio moons are really good at hidingtheir emotions. think about stan's reactions to big events in his life: gettingleft alone in the sewers, his bar mitzvah getting mike's call. he has distinctemotional reactions. pisces is also the sign of sorrow and self-undoing, sothinking back to some canon events it just makes a lot of sense to me. piscesmoons are also really selfless when it comes to their friends, but very strictand disciplined when it comes to themselves.

Aquarius Rising: There’s thissection in Mo’s astrology book that just like. So completely encapsulates Stanand how he interacts with the losers imo: “You are often intolerant of otherpeople’s shortcomings and can be wickedly sarcastic and very funny at the sametime. Your razor-sharp powers of observation help you uncover flaws that youcan poke fun at. You are a system of paradoxes. You enjoy being with people butare perfectly content to be alone. You like to travel but love relaxing athome. You are friendly and outgoing but, at other times, moody and reserved.” Like!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!Also, those with their rising in Aquarius are very idealistic and want theworld to be happy and harmonious (Stan being like its summer can we chill andnot wanting to be part of any conflict). They can also feel impatient towardsthose who don’t share the same vision.

Beverly: (imma be honest Bev was the hardest toplace so don’t judge lerngerg)

AquariusSun: To me, Aquarians are the epitome of like… chill/friendly stonerthat likes to talk about conspiracy theories and injustices of the world whiley’all are seshing but they are also kinda mysterious bc you never really knowwhats going on in their head …. which is v Bev to me RLGKNNKRG. Aquarians lovehanging out with friends and are really good listeners, which I think is trueof Beverly—they also have odd senses of humor. They are humanitarians that liketo fight for justice, I think Bev is someone who wants to fight for those whoare being hurt bc it’s something she has experienced and wants to provide thehelp that she didn’t get. For instance, she’s the one who’s like we need to gosave Mike, and she also wants to help save Derry and agrees with Bill that theyshould keep fighting Pennywise during the big fight after Neibolt. Aquarians canbe quite paradoxical—at times they are shy, other times loud and eccentric, Ithink this makes sense for Bev, another quality is that those with their sun inAquarius like to have some time alone, both of these things make me think ofthe moments she enjoys on her own and the other times she seeks out fun withthe losers and does crazy shit like jump off a cliff LKGNKNRG. They can bekinda bad at emotional expression and are very guarded with their emotions,sometimes coming of cold/bitchy until they know they can trust someone (Bev toBen at first on the stairs elrkgnerg).

Aquarius Moon: okay Mo wrote this explanation and I thot it was perfect so: Moon in Aquarius brings upthe qualities of sensitivity and perception. Since aqua is the sign of rationalthinking and humanitarianism, moon in Aquarius gives a person a clear mindsetand kinder outlook on life. Moon in Aqauarius are rational, intuitive, andimaginative, which i think can speak for a lot of beverly's character traitsand actions like her monologue in it 2017 where she tries to rationally explainwhy pennywise is going after them and how they have to defeat it, whereaseveryone else is struck by fear and emotional, or at the end of it 2019 whereshe tells richie that eddie is dead, and being intuitive enough to know thatshe has to tell him and tell him in a specific way, the imagination quality isa clear call to her artistic vision as a designer. aqua moons have greatvitality, they're witty conversationalists, and all around great friends. ithink that the friendliness and sociability of her aqua moon can be offset byher sag rising so there's more balance and nuance to her characteristics there.they're interested in the unusual, specifically in people, which could link herto vibing so well with the losers club. they can't stand possessive or jealouslovers, but they unconsciously choose people who aren't available to them (herfirst husband). they need a fine line between commitment and independence,which i think speaks to her behavior as a kid. she needs the stability and thespace to grow she didn't have from her dad. they deeply value platonic love. overall,aqua moons are independent, they have stimulating minds, persuasive charms, anda side of their personality that will always gear towards the unusual

SagittariusRising: Sagittarians love hanging out with their friends, but they alsohave the desire to be free and have adventures (I want to run towardssomething, not away! Queen). They are wise but optimistic, again I think thisties with things like her understanding that they all have to stick together tobeat pennywise, but also believing that they have the ability to kill It aswell. They are humorous and can be quite outgoing and confident, there aretimes when Bev is v confident and wild (teasing Ben, jumping off the cliff,initiating the rock war, etc). Sag risings are also v brave—like every single timeshe fights It or the Bowers or her dad or her husband. They’re good at tellingstories. They are also people who fight for the oppressed and want to createideas that help the world.

Ben:

Pisces Sun: Pisces are super friendlyand will do anything to help others even if they don’t get anything back(Ben!!!!!!!! Ben!!!!!!). They are very compassionate and gentle with others, I thinkthis is very true for Ben as he is p much always super sweet and understanding withthe losers. Their compassion can sometimes lead to being way too trusting—this canbe a problem bc they could fall in with bad company and hate being criticizedand sometimes views themselves as a victim. I don’t think Ben ever tries to like…capitalize on being a victim or anything but I think he does feel that waysometimes especially in regards to Bill/Bev, but he understands that’s her owndecision, again being very compassionate and not expecting anything out of hisactions. Sometimes their strong emotions can manifest in negative ways, likebeing scared, sad, and feeling misunderstood—they also can cry p easily (Ben criesquite a bit for his friends like in the sewers and his own romantic feelingsand stuff). They are super romantic and love unconditionally. They are also quiteintuitive, I think this makes sense (in tandem with the romanticism) withthings like kissing Bev to save her, understanding where to look into stuff inregard to the pennywise bullshit, etc.

Taurus Moon: We’ve talked aboutthis a bit with Mike, but I think Ben is also a Taurus Moon! LunarTaureans are very sentimental and have deep, strong emotions. They are vromantic and hang on to their relationships, both platonic and romantic, (thepostcard…….) they want a devoted and committed relationship that providessecurity. Those with their moon in Taurus really invest a lot in their friendships,I think friendship is one of if not the most important thing to Ben so thismakes a lot of sense to me. There’s a line in one of the sites I looked at thatfeels SO Ben to me: “Taurus moon sign energy has two speeds: relaxed andcontented […] or hyped-up and ready to charge”. That totally reminds me of howBen is usually p chill and easy going but when the people he loves arethreatened he goes crazy to protect them (the rock war scream and him going crazyduring that LGKNNRG and fighting pennywise, etc). While Mike’s affinity for luxuryis more like…. Kitschy clutter trash GLNRG, I think Ben’s interest in architecturefeels v luxurious and the importance of a home base makes sense for him. TaurusMoons also like to gather all the facts first—this makes sense in how heapproaches his friendships/relationships but also other things like investigatingDerry.

Libra Rising: Let’s go diplomatic romanticslet’s goooooooooo!!! Libras want harmony and are therefore good mediators, theywant everyone to have a good time and are good at teamwork. I think this makessense for Ben and can especially be seen in scenes like the reunion dinnerwhere he tries to calm everyone down and let Mike be heard. They are persuasivebut often do so with a ‘nice guy’ approach rather than like Charm andConfidence like Leo/Aries. Again, Libra Risings are SUPER romantic and havegood intuition, they usually know when they have a chance with someone and willcreate an ideal vibe for their relationships to bloom. They like to plan aheadfor the future with their loved ones (hello argument scene where he’s like imgonna be 30 and far away from here). They also feel like they need anotherhalf, which i think is true for romance but also just like. He needs hisfriends and really loves/cares about them. Those with their rising in Libraalso really care about home aesthetics and having a balanced space, again I thinkaiding in his architecture career.

Eddie

Sagittarius Sun: Tbh, I was v tornbetween sag and scorpio for Eddie’s sun, but I think Sagittarius best describeshis sun and Scorpio for his emotional self. Sagittarians are curious and fullof energy, and they value freedom (hello let Eddie be free!!!!!!). They can besuper impatient and tactless with some of the things they say, which is a veryEddie thing to me lernrgge. Furthermore, they can get angry pretty quickly aswell, and often talk quickly too (Eddie speaks so fucking fast and snaps easilyat everyone erglknegr). They also have good senses of humor; they like to teaseothers. Those with sun in Sagittarius are dedicated to their friends and arewilling to do anything… like defy their awful mother and crawl through a sewerwith a broken arm to fight a murderous clown. Sometimes they have blind faithin others, which I think could be translated to his relationship with Bill andto a more intense and negative respect, his mother. Sags want to find knowledgeand understand other people’s beliefs, and they are very vocal about their own,even to the point of exaggeration (like every single rant Eddie goes on LMAO).They also like sports which like LET EDDIE RUNNNN. Also, not to be a reddie butin looking at compatibility with the signs Gemini/Sag fit so much better forthem and made a lot of sense to me.

Scorpio Moon: Those with theirmoon in Scorpio are very emotionally intense and can be quite dramatic. Thiscan allow them to be quite perceptive of the emotions of others. However, theyare very good at hiding their own emotions because they often disprove of themand deny that they are motivated by their strong emotions. (hello repressedEddie). This helps Scorpio moons feel in control, but it can be detrimental. Ireally love this line from Mo’s book: “you must learn to let go emotionally andfeel your pain, and through the experience expand your phenomenalability to love”. Yup lover!!!! Scorpio moons are also very determined andpersistent…. fighter eddie!! Lover and fighter eddie!!! This made me kinda sad,but it says that there’s usually sorrow/trouble in the lives of Moon-Scorpiosand those are often tied to family and health… :/ and that they think ofescapist fantasies to cope with that. Scorpio moons are sensual but thestereotype of ~super sexy scorpio~ is kind of misleading. They have huge trustissues and don’t want to be controlled (oop… also they usually get married multipletimes lmao), it takes a lot for them to be trusting in love but when they do it’sa very deep love.

Virgo Rising: Those with theirrising in Virgo are BIG worriers and are super analytical, they often noticetiny details. (Maybe a dumb thing but Eddie is always the first to notice whenone of their friends is gone in the sewers, also in more funny and little wayslike him sniffing Ben’s perfume—that also ties in with his Sag curiosity imo).However, even though they notice details and can be intuitive, they miss out onemotional nuances. Sometimes they can be a little too forward and matter offact with people—I think Eddie speaks before he thinks a lot LKRG and can saysome rude shit sometimes without realizing it. (Ik this is kinda like my own stuffbleeding through but in general I think Eddie can be oblivious to other’semotions LRNGKNLG). They are very critical—often towards themselves, they areinsecure and beat themselves up over just about every little thing they do (SUCHan Eddie thing to me). Furthermore, they are guarded with their emotions untilthey have analyzed the situation and feel comfortable (again. Very Eddie tome). This often means they come off as timid and at times cold/stand-offish,which I think in new situations or times when Eddie’s unsure (aka has not analyzedeverything and feels unsafe whether physically or with his emotions), he tendsto draw in on himself and stay quiet. (But, then, his fire Sag side comes burstingout when he just can’t take it anymore and goes bonkers LKGRNG). Virgo risingsare organized and care about hygiene and cleanliness and are very in tune withtheir body (of course, Eddie’s obsession with cleanliness and hygiene/healthhas a lot to do with his mother’s abuse, but I also think there are some parts withinhim inherently who care about those things, it just got exacerbated in anextremely negative way bc of his mother). Interestingly, Virgo risings are veryenergetic, often with nervous energy, and have a hard time staying still—this feelsvery Eddie to me, his pacing and emphatic hand gestures, etc.

Richie:

Gemini Sun: Geminis are superwitty and funny and love to have a grand ol’ chaotic time with their friends,but then can turn serious suddenly. Oftentimes they feel restless and feel likethey are missing their other half so to speak (the yearning… the emo moments…).They’re very sociable and hate being alone, they love to entertain others, theyare strong communicators. Their love for communication often means they feelthe need to talk A LOT, even to strangers. (Trashmouth Tozier always talking!—Mopointed out that Richie’s talking is so bad that they had to create a separate phase,beep beep, just to be like We Seriously Want You To Shut Up, which I thinkmakes sense for all his placements bc they’re all like. One’s where the person talksso fucking much GRLNRG my annoying king

Gemini Moon: Yup double geminilove this obnoxious legend!!! (jk I like geminis but. It’s true. I am also sayingthis as a gemini moon). A lot of the stuff about his sun can be applicable herebut I’ll add on bc I am incapable of shutting up (the gemini moon of it all…) Thisis from Mo’s book again, I’ll just add some commentary/examples as to why Ithink it fits with Richie: Gemini moons are mutable and erratic. they have anactive mind, and imaginative and creative personality, and are inclined to intellectualpursuits. they have extraordinary quick sensory impressions of the outsideworld and they rapidly sift through info in their minds to make judgements.fast learners, high iqs probably , good critics and have the ability to bothanalyze and verbalize (despite some fanon interpretations, Richie is actually reallysmart, he’s good at math/science, I believe he’s also into politics later in college?).they have great charm. conversations with gemini moons tend to go off onunexpected tangents and take sudden turns and reverse (This feels SO Richie tome lekrnglenr). at heart, a lunar gemini is essentially restless and needsconstant stim (Makes sense for Richie for me, also with his ADHD, he needs tobe playing video games or reading a comic or doing this and that, he hatedhaving to be look out and do nothing for like an hour ergklnerg). lunargemini's are always mentally assessing their feelings. they tend to dissecttheir feelings and emotions to analyze why they think or behave in a certainway. they're quick witted and vibrant and can change their minds often. inemotional relationships they display a free spirit, going on the whims of theother person's emotions. at times their talent can be isolated because theylose interest in this quickly and drop their projects. they perform well whenin a relationship with someone practical and hardheaded (inch resting……..)

Pisces Rising: Taking some morestuff from Mo’s book, these lines I think really resonate with Richie’s outwardself and how he deals with the world: “You want life to be perfect and since itisn’t, you choose not to see what you don’t want to see”. That is SUCH a Richiething to me. “At parties Rising-Pisceans are vivacious and verbal (sometimesyou talk too much); you enjoy performing in front of a group. A talent formimicry makes many Pisces Ascendants turn to theater”. Literally Richie… the Voices,the talking too much and wanting to entertain the losers…. Those with Piscesrising are also very romantic and want to live a fantasy life, but they can bevery sad and moody especially because they feel like they are destined to bealone. (Richie yearning gay….) They are also quite disorganized but work wellin groups (let’s go loserssss clubbbbbb!!!).

#it #the losers club #literally im so sorry this is so long LKRGKLRNGR #anon #ask

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todo-ho-ki · 4 years

Text

If It’s Convenient For You, pt. 6

Hello lovelies! It’s finally here! I finally got unlazy enough to type this out and send it into the world! I made these two absolute idiots wtf.

Word Count:2,024

Pairing: BakugoXReader

Warnings: Swearing

@chims-kookies @velvet-kissesss

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

"Can you handle it from here?" His sarcastic tone forced a sigh from you.

"Yeah. My arms work just fine. Nobody stabbed me there. I'm thinking I'll wheel myself right out of a window somewhere. You know, so you don't have to save me ever again."

His tongue clicked in disapproval. "You're not really that helpless, are you?" It was less like a question and more like he knew something you didn't. "You got a mouth on you. Smart people don't talk a big game and then do nothing about it."

Look who's fucking talking.

"Bold of you to assume I don't drink dumb bitch juice every day."

He leaned over your shoulder with a sinister smile on his face. "That's a given." His hot breath had a tingle running up your spine but his comeback left you seeing red.

"You! Are the actual worst!" A few eyes in the room turned to you. "What makes you think you can just-" you were cut off by the entirety of his hand covering your mouth without so much as a look in your direction.

"You're making a scene, asshole. You sure are feisty for someone who just got stabbed."

"Mmph mmm!" Your salty words didn't make it through the grip he had on your face.

Bite him! I swear to god just bite his fingers off!

Your teeth pinched the skin of his fingers and he gasped, eyes widening before he hopped up quickly, bending down to face level.

"You better watch yourself." His low voice was a little terrifying, his grip on the handles of your chair tightening as he refrained from fighting you immediately. But you felt a little satisfied as a smirk washed across your face. You were feeling a little tingly.

Why? Why did I like that so much? Do I...want him to hit me? Oh god, I think I might have a bigger problem than a crush.

"Ahem," The quiet nurse from earlier was definitely not inclined to interrupt, a streak of regret for making herself known painted across her face. "we have a room ready for you now."

"I can take it from here," you sighed dramatically, wiping a hand across your forehead like you'd done something other than get hurt.

Bakugo rolled his eyes as the nurse began wheeling you into your room.

----- As soon as they removed Bakugo's makeshift tourniquet and bandages and the blood flowed freely in your leg again, the pain shot back through you savagely. He must've actually known what he was doing, expertly cutting off your circulation to minimize the pain.

The wound cleaning was painful even with all the morphine and sleep didn't come easy that night, strange fever dreams and weird visions of a dark alley leaving you sweaty and nauseous.

Much to your chagrin, your eyelids pulled themselves open in the early hours of the morning.

"Good morning. Glad to see you're awake." The doctor greeted you with much-unneeded enthusiasm.

"Well, at least one of us is."

He chuckled as he took your vitals. "It's very lucky that wound was taken care of the way it was; you could've bled out without that handiwork."

You made a mental note to begrudgingly thank Bakugo for making sure you stayed alive, even if he was a total dick about it.

"But it looks good. You shouldn't sustain any permanent damage, so long as you stay off your leg for a couple of weeks." Your eyes followed his hands as he hooked up another dose of pain killers. "This should tide you over until we release you. The wound wasn't bad enough to warrant keeping you more than a night. You also have a visitor. Would you like to see them now?"

That piqued your interest. No one knew you were in the hospital except the boys. At this point, you just figured it was Bakugo since he was put on this earth to drive you insane.

"Yeah. Bring 'em in."

The doctor left for a moment then reappeared, bright red hair trailing behind him. Relief followed the realization that it was the very kind, very calm, and not at all annoying Kirishima.

"Kirishima?" You muttered. He rubbed the back of his head with a soft smile.

"Hi! Uh, sorry about last night. We got there as soon as we could."

"It's okay. I'm just glad you guys got there before I got myself killed. I wasn't exactly being the smartest.."

Good god, what the fuck was I thinking trying to fend off three villains alone?

"Bakugo wasn't too bad of an ambulance was he?

"Oh, he was absolutely horrible. But I guess I should've expected as much. He didn't tell you about it?"

"He's..still pretty rough around the edges. But I promise there's a reason he's a hero! He just gets a little out of control when there are lives at stake and he's not sure what to do. Also, he goes to bed really early, so that was a late night for him." His sly smile was impossible to combat.

"Not too big a deal. What are you doing here?"

"Well, we were thinking, if you're okay with it, we wanna keep watch over you. Just- just while you're healing!"He backpedaled, noticing the stunned look on your face. "It'll just be in shifts, since we're here on a different case. But you're injured, and we want to make sure nothing else happens. You won't be able to get away."

"I don't suppose I have a choice?" You asked, brow raised. Were you really in a position to turn down the help?

"Well, no. If Bakugo found out I let you say no, he'd raise hell. But it's totally up to you! Whatever you're comfortable with."

A smile crept up on you as you caught wind of the implication of Kirishima's words.

"Ah, so that little bastard put you up to this? Was it his idea?" Kirishima's cheeks were suddenly dusted with pink. He knew something you didn't.

"Uh. W-well, yeah. It was his idea, but we were all thinking the same thing. I volunteered to come down here though. You probably don't need your blood pressure rising."

There were a million questions aching to get out of your chest now. Something like this probably wasn't in the job description, right? Was Bakugo really just like that? Maybe you were just reaching for the stars. After all, the point of being a hero was to sacrifice whatever it took to keep people safe, right?

He didn't stay long after you accepted the offer, claiming that your medicine looked like it was kicking in and that he would be back in a couple of hours to get you.

What the hell is he hiding?

It was the only question you could ask yourself before the medicine actually kicked in, that same strange dark alley came into view clear as day. It was almost like you were really there, walking down the silent path, only the sound of the rocks shifting beneath you and only the feel of a cool night breeze wafting gently. It was akin to a hallway with all the lights off. There was no seeing past the dim light posts until you were about to reach the next one.

A chill surged through you with impressive force, stopping you in your tracks.

What the hell is that?

A particularly bright streetlight was posted about ten feet in front of you. Its glow was dreary, even though the light itself looked like it was a million watts.

Well, this is my dream. And I ain't no bitch, even if I'm not awake.

A careful step forward sent the ground before you tumbling away, the sensation of you falling forcing your body awake. You could've sworn you heard a whisper as you were swallowed up: 'You're safe this time.'

"What the fuck?" The words caught in your throat as your chest tightened. Your eyes caught a glint of ash blonde hair, then followed to catch the rest of the person attached, peering cautiously at you over the bedside.

"Can I fucking help you?" You were still a bit stirred from the previous chain of events but all of it was soon forgotten. You barely even remembered that you had a bad dream, Bakugo's presence taking up every available corner of the room.

"Glad to see you're finally awake."

"Probably because you were watching me sleep."

"I've been here for forty-three seconds. I counted. Figured you'd have something to say about it. That shitty-haired dumbass barely even waited for an answer so I came here to tell you the plan."

Shitty haired dumbass? Kirishima? He counted?

"Shitty hair? I thought Kirishima's hair was quite lovely. You can tell him I said that."

"Yeah, I'm not gonna do that. Don't care."

"I'd care if someone told me my hair was shitty."

"First of all, it is. Second of all, will you fucking stop with the retorts for one damn minute so I can talk?" He pulled up a chair with way more force than required as he sneered at you.

You felt a pout coming on, mostly at the insinuation that the wonderful, long curly hair you'd spent years growing out was shitty.

"Anyway, you brat, we're gonna take turns patrolling your neighborhood. I'll take the first shift-"

"Aww, grandpa has to go to bed early?"

His eyes glossed over for a moment like he'd shut down, just before his teeth clenched and his stare turned icy. "I'll kill you." It was a strained whisper accompanied by some sparks from his palm.

"You are going through a lot of trouble if you're just gonna kill me." It almost looked like he tried to reach for the extra pillow on your bed, but his hand hovered over your bandages and your eyes widened.

"You fucking wouldn't, you growled.

"Why don't you find out?" he whispered, no hint of it being a joke. For once, you had nothing to say. You weren't gonna fuck around and find out if he would.

"Like I was saying, I'll take the first patrol, Kirishima will take the second, and Half and Half will take the last shift. We're planning on-"

"Half and Half? Do you have a nickname for everyone? Do you have a nickname for me?"

There was a pained surprise on his face, like he was shocked that you were still talking, threat long forgotten. But soon he cleared his throat and smiled. "You know what? For once, I'll oblige. I'll give you a nickname," he countered mischievously. "I'll even let you choose from my two favorites. Would you like to be 'Annoying Fucking Idiot' or 'Useless Brat'? Or maybe 'Shitty Hair 2: Shittier Hair'?" His arms crossed on the edge of the bed as he smirked at you. Did he really think he won that one?

"Wow! The originality! The pizzaz! Next time you try to insult me, do us both a favor and don't half-ass it."

"You wanted a nickname. So go ahead and pick. I've got the first shift, so you're mine for the next eight hours. Plenty of time to choose." He relaxed into the chair, feet kicking up on the bed, expression remaining decidedly triumphant.

Your head was clouded by his choice of words. You knew he meant it in an annoying way, but it still didn’t register that way. He took note of your sudden thousand-yard stare, shoulders tensing.

"Oi. What the hell-" He was about to jump out of the chair when you turned your head suddenly.

"I guess useless brat isn't the worst thing I could be." His shoulders relaxed as he sunk back down to the 'maximum chill' position.

"Good. That one's my favorite-”

"It's better than "Really Giant Dickhead," you quipped, barely letting him finish his sentence. A smile teased the corners of his mouth.

"I've never met anyone so damn hard-headed in my life. Are you ready to listen?"

"What, you've never looked in a mirror?" His head lulled back and a soft groan escaped him.

"Just tell me where you live. We'll be there tonight."

#Bakugoxreader #bnha #mha #i made these two so stupid wtf

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choupichoups · 5 years

Photo

Press F (Instagram/College AU) Ch.11

Lucas swears he’s the absolute master of undetected stalking. Or: Eliott is instagram famous and Lucas is the disaster gay who accidentally likes his post.

Lucas watches the numbers on his notifications blow up. Ten, fifty, a hundred— mostly messages from curious strangers inquiring about the status of their relationship. Lucas doesn’t understand how any one of them would think that Lucas would spare them an answer.

He messes with the settings until his direct messages are only open to the people he follows.

Eliott’s been silent for so long, even on social media, that everyone’s frantically latching onto this update on his story— Lucas included. But he doesn’t understand. He listens to the song over and over, looks up the lyrics to make sure his English isn’t failing him, and ends up back on Eliott’s story.

The song can’t be directed at him, right? Lucas can’t think of anything that went wrong the last time they were together. Well, everything went wrong but nothing between the two of them.

Honestly, it’s evident that something suspect is happening when he saw Idris post something on his account the day prior. Idris had told him before that both he and Eliott shut off their technology whenever they have to seriously work on a project so why is Idris available for contact but Eliott is not?

lucallemant Is your project going okay?

idrisomd What project?

lucallemant The one Eliott said you guys need to work on? His phone’s been on airplane mode no?

idrisomd Oh yeah, that project Uhhhh Maybe it’s better if you ask him?

lucallemant Haven’t seen him since Saturday

idrisomd oh

lucallemant Was there even a project at all?

Lucas isn’t dumb, he’s had a bad feeling about this whole project thing three days into Eliott’s abrupt silence. There’s just something very strange about the fact that he hasn’t seen hide nor hair of him despite Lucas orchestrating ‘chance meetings’ by hanging around his boyfriend’s building at the most convenient times. It’s like Eliott’s gone airplane mode not only with his phone, but with life as well.

All he needs is confirmation before he can allow himself to get angry at the sudden disappearance— and what a confirmation it is when Idris doesn’t respond to that simple question.

His jittery legs begin bouncing under the table. What did he do to drive Eliott away now? Lucas runs a hand over his face, chewing on his bottom lip. He wasn’t too clingy last Saturday was he? He didn’t say anything scary either like, wanting to adopt two babies or something so he doesn’t know what’s—

Ah. His mother at the clinic. The shouting match with his father.

Did Lucas scare his boyfriend off with his fucked up family?

He gets up from the lounge, determined to get to the bottom of this. There’s nothing he can do to fix it, sitting around making assumptions by himself.

When Idris gets out of class sans Eliott, Lucas steps into his way and Idris jumps about a foot in the air at the sight of him.

“Jesus!” Idris has a hand to his chest, steadily looking more and more afraid for his life the longer Lucas stares unblinkingly up at him. “Shit, I’m innocent, I swear!”

“So there really is something wrong then?” Lucas’ eyes narrow and he moves closer as Idris very visibly struggles for words. There’s something comical about the way the larger boy is trying his best to cower away from Lucas’ gaze but the latter isn’t in the mood to laugh at anything until he figures out what the hell’s up with Eliott.

“Listen, Lucas.” Idris takes in a breath, glancing down at his phone in the same movement but the screen’s already darkened by the time Lucas instinctively looks as well. “Things are a little rough right now.”

“That’s not helping. Why did he lie to me?”

Idris grabs his arm and moves them to a more secluded area, noticing the stares they’re beginning to attract. Lucas doesn’t know what he does but Idris lets out a pained groan when their eyes meet again.

“Stop looking like that,” Idris says, fidgeting restlessly with his phone.

“I can’t control my face,” Lucas retorts. “Did he say what I did?”

“Dude…” If conflict had a photo, it would be Idris’ expression right at this moment. “Talk to him. Please. It’s not,” he sighs, shaking his head. “Just talk, okay?”

“He’s not responding.”

“Fuck, make him respond.” Idris types something on his phone before he looks back out to the hallway. “I have to go. Talk to him, please,” he repeats his own words before leaving Lucas with no choice but to contemplate those obscure words by himself.

And fuck, yeah, whatever, he’ll just go for it. Talk to him it is.

lucallemant Look, I know your project excuse is bullshit And even if it’s not, you kinda gave yourself away with that story Can you fucking respond to me already? I know you can read these

srodulv Sorry, I just needed time to think

lucallemant About?

srodulv Us I think it’s best if we don’t see each other for now

lucallemant You’re kidding right?

srodulv No Sorry

lucallemant Don’t fucking ‘sorry’ me Where the fuck are you we need to talk

srodulv I don’t think that’s a good idea

lucallemant I don’t give a shit Eliott I’m serious Either talk to me properly or there’s no ‘for now’ We’re not seeing each other again ever

srodulv I’m at home

Lucas can’t remember the last time he’s felt this livid.

When Eliott opens the door to his apartment, Lucas shoves in without preamble. He’s a little startled to bump into Emir as he does so— Omar’s also at the side, slowly putting his shoes back on. The two boys don’t say anything, throwing acknowledging nods in Lucas’ way as they put on their jackets. On his way out, Emir shares a look with Eliott and it lasts the entire time it takes for Eliott to close the door back up.

An uncomfortable silence surrounds them once the lock clicks into place.

“So?”

Eliott turns to face him— he looks like shit. Or as shitty as Eliott can look anyway. Lucas still thinks he’s beautiful because of course he’s fallen in love like the massive dumbass he’s always been.

“I already told you over the phone.”

“Well I don’t agree. I think it’s a stupid thing, not seeing each other and all. So convince me.” He’s trying his hardest to sound as confident as he wishes to be.

“I’m just… not sure if we’d work out together in the long run.”

And no, no no no. This isn’t happening to him. Not with Eliott.

“No?” Lucas asks, ignoring the prickle in his eyes. He swallows once, twice— desperately hiding the catch in his breath, the shiver in his voice. “Cause you seemed pretty sure of it when you were fucking me last week.” His voice fails him, cracking in the middle of the sentence. “Is that just… did you just…?”

Eliott’s head snaps up, meeting his gaze finally. But Lucas isn’t sure he wants the contact any longer. Even so, he doesn’t turn away, desperation to fix whatever the fuck is happening between them right now takes priority over the anger simmering in his blood.

“Lucas.” Eliott sounds wrecked by the implication. Good. Lucas hangs onto that last thread of hope. “Lucas, no. It’s not— fuck it’s not that at all. Please never—” Eliott cuts himself off, hands waving about in front of him. “Never think I— you’re more than that. To me, you’re so much more.” He shakes his head, stepping closer to Lucas. “It’s not you.”

Lucas laughs, harsh and humourless. “What the hell am I supposed to think when you’re over here, using that it’s not you, it’s me bullshit? We’re not in one of your films, Eliott. I’m real,” he almost shouts the last word, wanting and needing Eliott to understand. “So please, if you’re going to leave me, at least have the decency to give me a real reason.”

Eliott goes silent, eyes wide like a child caught in a lie. Lucas’ mind swirls at the raw emotion he sees there, doesn’t know what to think anymore when Eliott stands there looking at him like Lucas is holding his whole heart in his clumsy, unstable hands. And yet. And yet.

“I’m only going to hurt you, Lucas,” Eliott whispers, frozen in position just out of Lucas’ reach. “I’m the exact kind of person who can hurt you real bad.”

Well, he’s not wrong about that. “You don’t think you’re hurting me right now?”

“Not like this.” Eliott swallows. “It’s better to end it now before I…” He trails off, looking away, moving only to clasp his hands together. His thumbs run restless circles over the back of his own palms.

“Before you what?”

“You won’t understand.”

“Try me.”

Eliott stops his fidgeting, looking at Lucas with eyes so devastated he looks away, almost takes back his own words if only to remove that look permanently off of Eliott’s face. “I’m bipolar, Lucas,” he says, voice trembling as he continues, “I’ll never be able to give you the normal life you deserve.”

Once, when he was a kid, Lucas had jumped into a pool of water six feet deep, out of sheer misguided courage, in order to prove to himself that he was no coward. The way his world had shrunk into that little bubble of space underwater, and all he could hear was the endless nothingness of the water around him as he recalled everything he’d said and done that led up to that exact situation— it stuck with him. He can still feel it, intensely, the memory clinging to the tips of his fingertips.

It’s strange how he comes back to that place, right now. He’s in Eliott’s apartment and he’s drowning.

“Eliott,” he gasps out, forcing his head out of water, everything around him coming back to life. His own words from the last time they were together haunt him. The way he’d wished, out loud, for a normal family. For normal people in his life. “I didn’t mean it. God, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“But you did,” Eliott says, his tone remaining kind. It kills Lucas inside. “And you’re right.”

“No.” Lucas wants to cover the distance between them but a conscious part of his brain tells him he no longer deserves that privilege. “I swear, Eliott, I didn’t mean it.”

Eliott doesn’t look convinced. “Please, just go.”

“No, not like this.” Lucas forces his feet to move forward, barreling past the invisible wall that’s begun to form between them. His hands slowly raise to cup Eliott’s face in between them, his touch the most gentle it’s ever been. “Please understand. I… when I said I wanted a normal family, it’s got nothing to do with my mother, I swear. I would never trade my mama for anyone else but I would give everything to have a— my dad,” he says in a rush, needing Eliott to get him but he’s not sure he’s expressing himself clearly enough. He doesn’t know how to explain himself. “When I said I wanted a normal life I meant that—” He chokes on a hiccuping sob, barely able to keep his tears at bay. But no, he’s not going to start crying now. It’s not about him. “If I could go back in time, I would change so much of my decisions from the past couple of years.”

Eliott softens but still shakes his head. “That doesn’t change the fact that I’ll be a burden for you eventually. I didn’t think it through before. You make me feel so good,” Eliott pauses, leaning into Lucas’ hands. “I was on such a high, I forgot I can’t keep you forever.”

“Why not?” Lucas tries to move closer but Eliott leans back.

“Because everything is temporary,” Eliott says, removing Lucas’ hands from his face. “I don’t want to ever end up being one of the things you regret.”

“You’re not. You won’t be.” Lucas reaches for him again but Eliott brushes him off.

“You only say that cause you’ve never seen me at my worst.”

“I don’t care.”

“How can you not care?!” Eliott pulls away completely, pacing the small space from the kitchen to the living room. “I can’t stand the thought of you crying and hurting like that every time I’m down or manic or whatever the fuck my brain decides to force on me without any fucking warning. You know this shit gets ugly, right? I’m not just going to lay down and sleep it off for a couple of hours. Sometimes it takes an entire week, Lucas. And I won’t always be quiet, I’m going to go off on you for no reason, I’m going to push you away—” Eliott stops for a breath, looking over at Lucas. “But you already knew that, didn’t you? Your mom does similar things sometimes, right? And the thing is your mom isn’t even with you all the time and it still affects you so much. How would you react when I’m the one losing my fucking mind?”

Lucas shakes his head, stepping forward in a desperate bid to get through to Eliott. He doesn’t reach out this time, wringing nervous hands into his sweater sleeves as he shifts around trying to make Eliott look at him. “I can handle it,” he says when their eyes finally meet— Eliott’s gaze is steel but Lucas isn’t easily cowed. “We can handle it.”

“I don’t want you to handle it!” Eliott shouts back, sounding increasingly flustered by Lucas’ persistence. “You should take this as your warning and leave!”

“Well I don’t want to!”

“Why?!”

“Because!” Lucas takes time to breathe, closing his eyes as he reels his temper in. They’ll get nowhere, screaming at each other like this. “Because I’ve never felt anything like this before,” he says in a whisper. “Because I’ll also yell at you, I’ll also do stupid shit, also shut you out sometimes.” Lucas shrugs, looking up at Eliott helplessly. “But all I know is that everything inside me is telling me to keep you and I’m willing to fight for that. I want to fight for that.” He runs a hand through his hair, running out of steam. “So if you think I’m giving up all of this. You. Us. Just because you think you’re not good for me, then you’re wrong. Relationships are a two way thing, Eliott. You can’t just make a decision like this for the both of us. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

A heavy silence follows. Lucas sighs softly, unsure of what else to do to get his point across.

Until Eliott mutters the most quiet, “I need time to think on it.”

And okay, he’ll take that. He’s got time to spare.

Lucas nods, moving towards the door. He’s pretty sure their conversation ends here. But before he leaves, he lingers by Eliott’s side, taking in his hunched shoulders, the way his eyes are trained on the floor. Everything about him screams defeated.

“I’ll give you all the time you need,” he says, soft in the wake of their loaded words from earlier. “But know that I still want you in my life, Eliott.” He pauses, taking in a shuddering breath. “All of you.”

He leaves it at that, walking out the door, out of the elevator, out of Eliott’s building. He doesn’t look back until he’s standing outside, breathing in the chilly evening breeze. He doesn’t realize he’s hoping for something to happen until his eyes are greeted by the empty foyer. There’s a stillness around him that could possibly be peaceful if not for the turmoil knotting in his chest.

If anyone had told Lucas years ago that he’d be standing in front of a boy’s apartment building, hoping for a scene straight out of a romance movie to happen to him, he’d have laughed in their face until tears streamed down his eyes.

And yet here he is, waiting.

But Eliott doesn’t come to chase after him.

Eliott misses school for two days the week following their talk, and then another two days the next week after— he only knows this because Idris takes it upon himself to keep him updated. On a Wednesday when Lucas doesn’t even have any classes to attend, he sees a glimpse of Eliott around campus. He’s surrounded by people, shoulders covered by that signature brown jacket that Lucas infuriatingly misses.

Lucas wishes Eliott would see him, wishes so hard that they’d meet eyes across the field and for Eliott to smile that genuine smile of his, eyes crinkling at the corners. He wishes Eliott would look at him like Lucas is the only thing that matters again.

“You okay?” Arthur nudges him with an elbow, following his line of sight. “How’s it going with you two?”

He shrugs, instinctively unlocking his phone. Eliott hasn’t sent him any messages for the past two weeks. Lucas wants to send something, of course, but he thinks Eliott should be the one to break the silence once he’s ready to go forward with their relationship. If he still wants to that is.

Lucas is starting to have his doubts. “Nothing.”

Arthur sighs, raising an arm to tug Lucas close. “He’ll come around.”

“Sure.”

On the third week of silence, Lucas isn’t sure Eliott would ever come around.

“Lucas!” Erin rushes inside from the front house, startling Lucas from his gloomy thoughts.

“Yeah?”

“There’s someone asking to see you.”

His heart skips a beat, and he almost stumbles out of his seat in his haste to get up. It’s Friday and he’s only here to cover for someone else’s shift but it’d be the best day ever if Eliott’s decided to end his suffering today.

Marco, their pastry chef, barks out a laugh. “Careful, kid.”

“Yeah,” he responds absently, jogging forward to peer through the glass window of their kitchen door.

His heart plummets to the ground when he sees the person waiting by the counter. “Did you tell him I was here?”

Erin’s budding smile drops. “No, I only said I’d check, didn’t know if you went out for snacks or something.”

“Okay,” Lucas breathes out, bidding for his heart to slow its beating. “Okay. Please tell him I’m not here.”

Marco shifts closer. “You okay? You want me to get rid of him?”

“He’s a paying customer,” Erin mumbles, apology all over her features when her gaze meets Lucas’.

Lucas appreciates the offer either way.

“Damn.” Marco grumbles, running a hand over his chin. “Can you handle the front alone? I’ll keep Lucas here to help out with the baking.”

“You really don’t have to—”

“You look like you’re gonna pass out,” Erin interrupts before he can even finish his protest. “I’ll tell him you’ve gone home. He should go away in a few hours, right?”

Lucas isn’t sure about that but he doesn’t want to worry them. “Yeah.”

Erin pushes the door open and Lucas can faintly hear her lying to Raphael for him.

God, what’s Raphael doing in the cafe? How does he know Lucas works here?

He walks back to the couch with surprisingly steady steps, sitting down as his mind reels with possibilities. What the fuck is Raphael doing, trying to barge back in his life like this? The rest of his break is spent panicking in silence but thankfully, it doesn’t bleed into his work when Marco tasks him with frosting the chilled cupcakes. They turn out pretty good, considering his experience in that area is nothing but sometimes watching Manon decorate her stress baked goodies.

At eight o’clock, he has to reassure Marco that he doesn’t need to wait an extra two hours to give Lucas a ride home. The guy has been there since early morning, working overtime to complete a gigantic preorder for an event their customer has the day after. Besides, Lucas knows Marco’s children are waiting for him to get home before falling asleep, as Marco likes to very fondly remind them all the time. At ten o’clock, Erin lingers, kindly offering to take the bus with him until Lucas reminds her that he walks home and urges her out with a simple reminder of that assignment she’s been procrastinating on for the past week.

Alone in the cafe, Lucas doesn’t bother to hide the tremor in his hands.

He calls Yann twice and gets voicemail for both before he remembers that his best friend’s taken off to Bordeaux straight after classes for a family reunion celebrating his grandmother’s birthday. Basile’s fallen asleep hours ago, according to their group chat, after having stayed up three days straight studying for an exam. Arthur would probably come for him but Lucas knows he lives too far away to arrive in time. Champ is waiting for Lucas back home, he can’t possibly waste more time hiding inside the cafe.

But standing at the welcome mat right in front of the door, Lucas gives in, admitting to himself that he’s scared out of his fucking wits.

lucallemant Eliott, I know I said I’d give you all the time you need And I mean it, you can have more right after this But please, can you pick me up at work? I need you please Please

He walks around aimlessly, barely registering his own movements as he cleans up everywhere, making sure everything is sparkling clean and wiped down at least three times before he gathers his things so he can lock up. He makes an aborted move towards the curtains which he’d flipped shut earlier, resisting the urge to check if Raphael is out there, waiting.

It’s ridiculous, it’s been hours.

But he knows. He knows it’s not irrational.

His phone remains silent and a quick check on the app tells him he has no new messages waiting.

Okay, fuck, that’s fine. It’s fine. He’ll be okay.

He fishes the cafe keys out of his pocket and unlocks the door from inside. It’s dark when he steps out, almost pitch black in the late hour. The quiet around him is disturbing, the streets abandoned on a typical Friday night. Locking the door back up proves to be a hassle as his shaky fingers fail to slot the key in twice. Irritably, he swats at his forearm— he doesn’t know if his brain is playing tricks on him or if there are really ants crawling up his sleeves at the same moment.

A couple more tries and the latch finally gives a satisfying click. Lucas stands there, breathing out slowly. It’s still quiet. So, so quiet he almost convinces himself he’s been freaking out over nothing.

Until he turns around and sees the worst mistake of his life.

Raphael shakes his head, tall and imposing in his fucking suit. “You know I hate it when you lie to me, baby.”

Lucas shutters, turns around quickly so Raphael doesn’t get a whiff of his effect on Lucas. If the bastard realizes how Lucas feels right now, it’s over for him. He tries to leave without acknowledging Raphael, wanting to sprint back home but that won’t be a very good idea won’t it? With Raphael on his tail and all. His mind, slow as molasses, can’t come up with anything he can do to get away without revealing anything.

He hears footsteps coming up behind him, leisurely, like Raphael knows he’s got nowhere to go.

“Come on now, Lucas. Don’t be so rude.”

“What do you want?” If he’s going to be stuck here, he might as well deal with it. He gathers all the courage he can muster and turns to face Raphael, but his own voice sounds distant to his ears, as if he’s separated from his body somehow— a spectator of this hellish scene rather than a direct participant.

It’s been over a year since they’ve ended things, on a terrible note, so Lucas doesn’t understand why Raphael would bother to come back.

The man shrugs, standing a safe distance away, hands in his pants pockets. “I thought we could revisit that talk from before, you know?”

“No,” Lucas scoffs, his answer hasn’t changed and it would be a waste of their time.

Raphael rolls his head backwards with a deep, showy sigh. “Stop acting like a child. You’re in college now, Lucas, can we have an adult conversation about this?”

How fucking dare Raphael talk to him like that? Lucas won’t rise to the bait, he’s long been over this. He’s worked hard to fix everything Raphael tore down and yes, it’s a work in progress, but he’s healing. “Fuck off.” He starts walking again to god knows where— he’ll go back to campus or sleep in a fucking church if needed.

It makes Raphael chuckle. “I see. That’s how it is now, huh?” He doesn’t seem to be following so Lucas ignores him. “Careful there, you’re turning into your mother, all mean and moody like that. I heard crazy can run in the family, you know?”

Lucas has fireworks for temper. He’s learned to tone it down as he got older but the one thing that can set him off like nothing else is when people talk shit about his mama. Raphael knows that. Lucas knows Raphael knows that. But he falls for it hook, line, and sinker.

He rushes back to where Raphael is standing, gripping the neatly ironed collars of his dress shirt to pull him down to Lucas’ eye level. “Don’t talk about her like that, don’t talk about her at all, don’t even think about her, you fucker,” he hisses into the space between them, to which Raphael responds with a smile— unkind, predatory. Lucas knows what’s coming but he can’t seem to reign in the anger that makes him act on his most foolish thoughts.

“Ah.” Raphael’s eyes light up like a demon in the night. “I knew you’d come to me.” His hands easily engulf Lucas’ wrists then, close as they are, and starts dragging him towards the parking lot. Lucas stumbles at first, unprepared for the change of pace but he forces his limbs to cooperate after a few heart stopping seconds. He digs his heels on the pavement, pushing back against Raphael with all his strength. The resistance only frustrates Raphael and Lucas barely has time to catch the angry look Raphael throws over his shoulder before he’s being pulled to the side of the building and slammed unceremoniously on the wall so that his back presses painfully against the rough bricks of the cafe exterior. “Stop making me angry, Lucas. I’m serious.”

“Then stop talking to me!” He yells back, impact behind his voice while also hoping for someone, anyone, to pass by and hear him. “Let go!”

Raphael shushes him, soft and amused. Lucas’ stomach lurches and if he’d eaten anything at all he might’ve thrown up right then and there. The grip around him tightens, heavy shackles of flesh digging into delicate wrists and Lucas just about manages to hold back a whimper. “You know I don’t want to hurt you but you’re making things very difficult right now. Do you understand me?”

Lucas wants to cover his ears— he can’t deal with those words. Not now, not ever again. Not with that same gentle, warning tone. A familiar bout of panic takes hold of him, all that time spent rebuilding himself flies out the window and suddenly he’s back to being sixteen, terrified but helpless under Raphael’s control.

“You don’t…” He swallows, knowing he has to be brave. No one will protect him but himself. No one. His breathing picks up, vision darkening around the edges. No one, Lucas. Fucking save yourself. “You don’t get to talk to me like that.” It comes out as a whisper, too weak for what he’d been gunning for but the fact that he’s able to get the words out gives him strength. His vision’s no longer fading but he wonders why everything around him looks so damn blurry.

“Shh,” Raphael hushes him and Lucas strikes his head against the wall behind him to get away from the warm breath near his lips. The movement should be painful but he feels numb to his core. “Oh come on, I’m sorry, baby. Please don’t cry.” Raphael uses one finger to brush against the wetness on Lucas’ cheek. Fuck, fuck, fuck, when did that happen? “Come with me, I’ll make it better, okay?”

No. He’s going to say it out loud. Once he works up the courage. He’s going to. He’s going to.

He doesn’t have to.

“Get the fuck off of him.” That cold voice is a welcome distraction from the suffocating conflict in Lucas’ head. Hearing it brings forth so much relief he barely registers everything that comes after. Through tear blurred vision, he watches Raphael stagger backwards as Eliott roughly pushes himself in front of Lucas, shoving Raphael towards the opposing wall.

“And who are you?” Raphael sneers, tone dripping acid. Lucas leans his forehead on Eliott’s solid back, desperately in need of an anchor.

“None of your business,” Eliott responds, equally venomous. “Leave.”

“I don’t think you understand, pal, but this is none of your business,” Raphael intones, trying for a calmer approach. “He’s mine and he’s not feeling well right now, so can you please move and let me take care of him?” Lucas hears footsteps approaching but he closes his eyes, unwilling to see any more of that man.

Eliott stands his ground. “Nice try, pal,” Eliott practically growls out, and when Lucas opens his eyes again he sees Eliott’s hands clenched into tight, shaking fists. “You can fuck right off or I swear to god.”

Lucas doesn’t hear anything else— he brings his hands over his own ears and squeezes his eyes shut , waits it out until Eliott turns around and wraps him in his arms completely, so tight and all encompassing as if trying his utmost best to hide Lucas from the rest of the world.

“I’m here, I’m sorry I took so long, I’m so sorry, I have you, I have you,” Eliott whispers into his hair, barely audible above Lucas’ gasping sobs. He clutches onto Eliott’s jacket and tries to regulate his breathing but every attempt goes down the drain, washed over by the torrent of emotions rushing out all at once. For a single moment he wishes for that numbness from earlier back, if only so he doesn’t die of oxygen deprivation on the spot.

Eliott tilts Lucas’ head sideways and presses him against his chest, taking slow, deep breaths that Lucas instinctively matches. Under the carefully timed breathing, Lucas can hear Eliott’s erratic heartbeat.

His wheezing tapers off, leaving him sniffling and coughing a little as a strange sort of calm takes over. Eliott, painfully gentle, runs his thumbs across Lucas’ face, wiping all traces of his tears. Lucas doesn’t know how to explain what just happened and he doesn’t think he wants to explain, as a matter of fact.

Thankfully, Eliott doesn’t ask. “I’ll take you home,” he says, glancing at Lucas carefully before the latter offers him a nod in response.

Lucas pulls himself away from their embrace, missing the safety in Eliott’s touch but with his head slightly clearer, he remembers, acutely, the status of their relationship. After everything Raphael’s return has brought back, Lucas’s now hyper aware of what he’s asked of Eliott. God, the other boy must think he’s such needy garbage, sending a message like that. Isn’t that considered emotional blackmail? Even if Eliott’s lost his feelings for Lucas, reading a text like that would still make Eliott rush to the rescue. Lucas knows Eliott’s heart is just soft in that way.

He’s glad the walk home is fairly short. He doesn’t want to keep Eliott later than he has to.

“Thanks,” Lucas says, walking numbly towards the building. Champ must be bored out of her mind. He hopes she ate well— she’s usually good at pacing herself even when he leaves a large amount of food outside when both he and Yann will be out for a long period but sometimes the dumbass gobbles it all down in one go. Hopefully there’s no vomit for him to clean up once he unlocks the door.

Locks on the door.

How did Raphael know where Lucas works? Why did he leave without much of a fight when Eliott arrived? Is it because he also knows where Lucas lives?

Lucas unlocks his door, fiddles with the mechanism a little, and decides he’s going to go out and buy some extra locks just for good measure. Tonight, in fact. He has to do that tonight. He’ll take Champ with him so she can have a little walk as well.

“Hey, how are you?” He murmurs into Champ’s fur when she wobbles over to him, not bothering to switch on the lights. She’s the only one he needs to see anyway. “Sorry, I know it’s late now but we’ll go for a walk, alright? I’ll buy you a snack too.” He clips the leash on her collar but bundles her tight in his arms as he goes back out.

When he gets to the entrance, Eliott is standing right where Lucas left him.

“Why are you still here?” He’s surprised he’s able to string together a proper sentence around Eliott, seeing as his heart has been shattering anew for every time he catches even the slightest glimpse of the boy for the past few weeks. Maybe there’s simply nothing left to shatter. “You should go home now.”

“Lucas,” Eliott’s voice sounds shaky. Lucas can feel Champ’s tail sleepily wagging at the sight of him. “Why are you not inside?”

“I have to buy something.”

“What are you buying? Can’t it wait til tomorrow?”

Lucas shakes his head. “I need new locks for the door.”

“What happened to your lock?” Eliott’s stepping closer, slowly, like how one would approach a spooked animal.

“Nothing, I just want more.” Lucas has his eyes trained on the ground, counting the cracks on the cobblestone as he grapples for something, anything to occupy his mind with. He can’t let it run empty or he’s afraid he’ll stop breathing.

“Where’s Yann?” Eliott’s close enough to touch by now and he lifts a hand to pet over Champ’s little head.

“At his parents’.” Lucas distantly notes that Eliott’s hand is trembling and he wants to hold them, keep them warm, but he’s not sure he’s allowed to. “You should go home, it’s only gonna get colder.” He thinks Eliott says something after that but Lucas misses it— everything around him seems so strange and muffled. He’s inside a glass container with only one eye peeking out. “What?”

“Lucas.” There’s a desperate note in the way Eliott says his name and Lucas isn’t sure what to make of it. He follows the way Eliott’s hands stutter midair, hovering close on either side of Lucas’ face but Eliott doesn’t touch him. “Come back to me.”

What does that mean? “I’m right here,” he responds, meaning for it to be a question but his tone falls as flat as everything else he’s been saying.

Eliott shakes his head, distress loud in his eyes. There’s a voice inside Lucas’ head screaming for him to reach out and comfort Eliott, to erase that pained expression and to try his damnedest to make him smile. The glass around him shrinks protectively and Lucas doesn’t move a limb.

“Okay… okay, you’re sleeping over at mine tonight,” Eliott says, one of his hands flying up to run through his own hair while the other goes to his mouth, biting at his nails.

“But Champagne…”

“She’s coming too.”

“Her stuff’s upstairs.”

“We’ll go get it.”

Gathering everything Champ needs is a quick and quiet affair, with Lucas floating around grabbing anything that looks remotely like something a dog would own. Her food and water bowls are last to enter the bag. Lucas leaves feeling as if he’s forgotten something but the thought doesn’t stick, so he lets it go.

They walk to Eliott’s flat mostly in silence, partly due to Lucas missing half of what Eliott tries to tell him. He can see his lips moving but Eliott has to repeat twice, three times, before Lucas understands what’s being said. It’s a tiring exercise and Lucas doesn’t have anything to respond with anyway, much more content with burying his face into Champ’s soft fur, cuddling into her warmth despite of how small of a space she takes up.

Once inside, he lets go of Champ to let her familiarize with the place while he stands immobile at the doorway, staring at the plant Eliott’s placed beside his bookshelf. It looks like it’s dying. Lucas would laugh but the notion dies before the thought even completes itself.

“Hey.” Eliott’s close again and Lucas lets his eyes fall shut at the comfort of his presence. “Lucas? Lucas, are you with me?”

He’s exhausted. The walls around him are thickening, until he hears nothing but his own breathing.

Eliott sighs, and Lucas feels him brush the hair away from Lucas’ forehead before he shuffles off elsewhere. When Eliott comes back, it’s with a bundle of clothes in his arms and a gentle hand guiding Lucas to the bathroom.

Behind the closed bathroom door, Lucas is forced to face himself in front of the mirror. It’s a relief to find nothing outwardly amiss; his hair’s a little messy and his eyes a little red. But when he removes his clothes and sees the finger shaped bruises forming on his wrists, stark against the otherwise unblemished skin, the bubble around him breaks— sharp pieces of cracked glass lodge themselves under his skin, and he bleeds and bleeds from the inside. Everything around him is suddenly too loud, too bright, too much.

Come with me, I’ll make it better.

“No,” he whispers, hands sliding up to cover his ears, albeit futile, against the phantom words. He stumbles backwards and falls to the floor with a thud but Lucas barely notices the pain that shoots up his tailbone.

Stop acting like a child and listen to me.

There are footsteps thundering from outside the room and a small part of him, the one that hasn’t completely lost its mind, recognizes it immediately. “Eli—” he begins to call out but a nagging thought stops him. No, he can’t ask for Eliott. He’s got enough to deal with without Lucas adding on his own pile of bullshit.

Where’s his phone? He needs to call his mama— wait no, she’s having a rough time already. She has to get better first and worrying about Lucas won’t be of any help.

Yann. He’s probably not asleep yet, Lucas can try calling him again and—

Except Yann doesn’t know the entire story. Lucas had swept it all under the rug after telling his best friend a heavily edited version of how much Raphael had fucked him up.

Fuck, he’s alone. He’s alone. How does he manage to always end up alone?

I’m the only one you have.

“Lucas?” Eliott slams the door open and it startles Lucas enough that it silences the ugly memories running through his head. He looks up to the sight of Eliott frozen by the door, looking wholly unsure and slightly terrified and god, Lucas can’t help it. Just a little bit. He just needs a little bit of Eliott to survive the night.

“Eliott,” he croaks out, but he doesn’t get to finish the thought when tears fill his eyes and spill out uncontrollably like a flooded dam. Eliott rushes to his side, gathering Lucas up in his embrace. In turn, Lucas latches onto him. He’s going to regret this tomorrow, he knows, but for now, he crawls into the space between Eliott’s arms and hides in the crook of his neck, searching for safety. “I don’t wanna go back,” he gasps out. “I don’t. Please don’t let me go back.”

Eliott holds him that much tighter— the strength in his arms juxtaposes the waver in his voice as he says, “I’m here now. I got you. You’re never going back, I’m here. I’m here.”

Are you? Lucas’ tears pour heavier, though he guesses that empty promises are better than no promises at all.

#skam france #elu #elu fic #fictag #slams hand on timer #sorry im late #but look clowns #dedicated to everyone who thought they knew what was coming #chapter warning: mild violence + ptsd symptoms #elu insta au

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shhhnottom · 4 years

Text

I Got Bored. Here's A Book

Just a quick warning before we actually start this mass roller coaster of bullshit. If you are easily offended, feel free to stop and reverse your hand to the home page.

Also, this is not a story of any kind. It's just a random bunch of subjects that mean something to me and I ramble on about. I drank quite a lot whilst typing 90% of this and watched a fair amount of Netflix

Just take a look at these chapters. I think you could see where this is going to go:

Depression

Anxiety

Television

Self Harm

Procrastination

One Word Chapter

Didn't See That Coming?

Swearing

Panic Attacks

The End?

Just another warning, there will be a fair amount of swearing in this so if you want to censorit out, feck off. It's safer, trust me.

Depression

Yeah, lets start off dark. That seems like it's going to be a great plan. Let's face it, everyone has their bad days. Try to lie, I dare you. I have mine and they get me to a point where I just want to throw myself into a keg of ale and a couple bottles of whiskey. Has to be the good stuff, otherwise my sadness is made more sad. I mean, who wants to depressed and drink a bottle of Tesco value blended shite when there is a long list that will make you feel slightly better, like Jameson's, Tullamore Dew and Paddy's. Yeah, I went straight for the Irish whiskeys, sue me.

Anyway, after my lengthy dabble with the art of drinking myself into a coma every night, waking up for work in the morning, finishing work and continue to drink, I decided that I need to ruin all of the relationships I have built over the years with a combination of heartfelt insults and trying to throw myself into traffic when they are looking. I'm a lovely person, aren't I?

What I decided to do after several attempts on my own life, well two attempts anyway, is to take the fucking hint and realise I'm not supposed to die. Did you know, that therapy is actually effective and gets you to the place where you feel a lot better and not suicidal any more. You see, it's almost as if the doctors who say you are depressed and need therapy are speaking the truth. Who knew? You know what I found doesn't really help. If you decide that you don't need therapy and that finding pictures of celebrities who have decided to end their own lives and post that shit to Facebook, saying that “Even The Happiest People Are Sad”. Its almost like they decide, before they leave the house, that they don't want people on the outside who have cameras and social media accounts to take pictures of them whilst they are having a bad day, and post it all over the fucking place. Fucking hell, I went to therapy for a year before realising that I'm just a massive idiot and if I thought a little bit differently, I could get over all of that nonsense that was going on inside my head. I, now, look at my depression like its one big fucking meme and take the piss out of myself because that's how I can deal with it. I mean, I don't read books and here I am fucking writing one.

The main reason why I look so differently at depression now is because of the millennials who think because something hasn't gone their way, they have to post shit over social media complaining about how hard life is. You haven't even hit 20 yet, you pricks. Wait until you get to 25 or 30 and come to realise “I'm in a dead end job, going nowhere and I have no money”. Oh Jaysus, wait until that comes along. You will think that not getting laid in that shitty club is a holiday.

I mean, there are some great positives to come out of having depression, going to therapy and getting to a point where you are comfortable with living the life you have been given. I, myself have reconnected with people who I thought I had lost, through my incessant need to push them away. I have a better relationship with my parents, now that we have started communicating properly again. I am a lot less selfish, and have developed a form of empathy I had no idea I had inside. I've even tried to help some people in their times of need, when they were feeling at their worst. I once wrote a letter to someone to try to make them stop going down the same road I went down:

“I have this incessant need to do stupid things to hurt myself

I have broken my hand multiple times to avoid mental harm but have inflicted physical harm on myself

I have destroyed possible relationships in the desire to remain alone, to stop myself inflicting my mental harm upon others

I have kept myself busy in order to stop myself from pursuing a premature non existence”

Told you before that I was a lovely person.

It turns out that maybe, my experiences, aren't as bad as other peoples. It might also turn out that your experiences aren't as bad as mine but I'm not going to presume. Hopefully, you've enjoyed the first chapter, I have no idea what's going to happen in the next few chapters, mainly because I haven't written them yet.

Anxiety

Disclaimer,

I was fucking hammered and heavily depressed writing this chapter and tried to write it completely in the 3rd person. Enjoy.

Have you ever noticed when people get really offended they decide to inhale very dramatically and hold their chest as if they have been hurt so badly that their heart has been hurt? Imagine if those people develop a heart condition. You'll never be able to tell if they eventually do have a heart attack or if you've just told a really funny joke.

Just to reiterate, “this book” is just my thoughts written down whilst I have a couple of drinks and watch Netflix.

Someone once told me that a persons feelings are subject to the person they are. I know people that are massively bitter and their stomachs always hurt. All they do is moan about what other people do or think and then constantly moan that they are ill.

Here Tom, isn't this chapter about anxiety? I'm fucking getting to it. Chill the fuck out.

Getting back to what I was saying before I was rudely interrupted. This person also told me that they get a sore throat every time they want to say something but they force themselves not to. Can you imagine what that's like? To not say what it is you want to say, just to not offend people.

I get super anxious around people who are better than me. I know someone who is literally the most caring person I have ever met. They care more about other people and how they feel than they do about how their life is going. Another thing I get anxious about is when I think that I've not accomplished what I thought I would have done by this point. I mean, I could claim that I was from a broken home, had to move from my home country to another and had to start my life from square one but I, then, realise that there are so many more people that go through that and I'm not special.

I've just poured another glass of whiskey. Its just about a half a glass. This shit is difficult to write about, can you tell?

If you haven't noticed yet, I like to make stupid jokes just to pass off that I'm OK in the head. “shakes head dramatically”. I put that in because you cant physically see me and I'm shit at drawing my head shaking.

I know a lot of people who smoke an arse tonne of weed just to get over their anxieties. Have you ever smoked weed? That shit is scary. I remember one time, New Year I think, I was working. Showed up at 10am, was supposed to be on until 6pm but it was so quiet that I got sent home after 2 hours. I went to the nearest town and drank like half a bottle of whiskey, well Jack Daniels. Does that count as whiskey? Its basically sugar with some ethanol. Along with several pints of beer and a shit burger from a Wetherspoons. Anyway, after drinking myself into a stupid comatose state where I was still somewhat functioning, myself and one of my friends went back to his house and he broke out the weeds, the green, the marry Joanna. After quite a lot of smoking and a bit more drinking I decided I needed to rest my eyes for a moment, just a single moment. Suddenly, I felt slightly ill in the stomach. I remember saying to him, “If you don't get a bucket, I'll throw up all over your floor”. However the video suggests something different. Yeah, there's a video. It goes something like this: “mmmmmmmmmmm mumuumumumu bucket muumuu floor”. The point is, there was a massive stain on his bedroom carpet for 6 months after. He didn't let it go. At all. The bastard.

That whole story doesn't explain how weed doesn't help my anxiety but I ran out of shit to say and I thought that would break some tension. Hopefully.

I'm currently listening to a song that tells you how to kill yourself. Yeah, this got dark really quick. Although, it has a great message. Don't rely on pop stars to write a song that will resonate with your feelings. Lady Gaga doesn't care if someone found her lyrics about the paparazzi inspirational enough to make them not kill themselves. (There are many pop stars out there who do the same thing, Lady Gaga was just the first person who came to mind). They've made their money, after that they just carry on making new “inspirational songs” and go on a new tour, make more money and the cycle continue. I listen to Twenty One Pilots' album Vessel when I feel really anxious. Seriously, those guys write about what they feel instead of what some songwriter thinks what other people feel.

Hey Tom, how are you going to bring this chapter out of the hole its in? You expect me to be funny and make a point? Nah,Nah,Nah,Nah,Nah,Nah,Nah,Nah,Nah,Nah,Nah....Hey Jude.

I've been at this chapter for too long now. I'm fucking done. Good luck understanding this mess I've just read this back. I mean, seriously, if you've got through this well done.

Television

Ah now for fucks sake. Who's idea was it to put in Television as a chapter? Mine? Nah, doesn't sound right. I'm not that fucked up to put this in here. I mean I'd put in music or video games. I'm more interested in those than I am in TV. Fine, Fucking, Fine. I'll talk about this stupid subject. I mean, fuck me. Dumb ass.

At this current moment in time I am watching the second season of Jack Ryan and I can conclusively say that I am not disappointed. Two episodes in and it has been a massive thrill ride. I mean, to go into Venezuela at the current moment is brave just to film a TV show. They must have spent more money picking the safest place to film there than it cost to pay the actors. I could imagine that John Krasinski isn't that cheap to hire after the first series and after the US Office. Not including his directorial debut in the Quiet Place. Magnificent.

I've also watched the Netflix series Daybreak about a dirty bomb going off in L.A and only people under the age of 18 surviving. Very clever concept for a show, and the fact that they managed to film in parts of L.A is even more impressive for a small time TV show.

3 paragraphs I managed to get through before getting to a point. I decided to throw on the last thing I was watching on Netflix to emphasise said point. Yeah, I'm watching the last series of How I Met Your Mother. DONT START. Seriously, I know. Up until the last 2 episodes it was OK. It was a great story overdone by bad direction.

4 paragraphs, look at me.

OK, by this time, I'm sure you're getting it. TV is a great way to distract yourself from the real world. A great way to distract from your problems in the world. I mean, you've got to find the right show for you but there are so many out there at the moment and so many ways to watch them. There will always be people who say that you shouldn't waste your time sat and watching TV, go do something with yourself. Just imagine what those people do when they get in from their days at work. They come home, sit in an empty chair and look at their walls. I mean, they could be reading a book. Preferably, this one. Or maybe not, but my point is still valid. You could read your books and force your brain to imagine the world that the book is coming to or you could spend the time to celebrate the people that have done that before you and decided to 'Do something with themselves' and make their favourite book into a magnificent visual performance. I mean, at this point, I have switched to the modern Sherlock Holmes series, which as everybody knows is brought to life from the many stories written by Arthur Conan Doyle. This TV show is 90 minutes long per episode and is very entertaining, so you never seem to notice that the time goes by. This means that if you are feeling a certain way at the start of the show, there is a 90 minute period where your feelings could change, your opinion of the world could change.

OK, I have nothing left to rant about here. If I were to speak about another music or video games I would have been here for another 6 pages but I figured your time would be spent better here.

I mean I wrote the names of the chapters before I wrote the actual chapters themselves so you're as stuck as I am with what gets written. I could change this but where's the fun in that.

Good luck reading the next chapter. I promise, I will be completely hammered writing it because I'm going to continue writing after this chapter. I am currently on the verge of tears now so, I guess good luck to me too. Thank you for reading up to this point if you have. I've tried to keep it fun but now I'm into serious mode.

Self Harm

Hey people, lets enter dark mode. I mean every other company on the planet has already done it. I mean, apart from Facebook but those bastards let political propaganda through, so I guess that counts.

I mean, that's the shortest joke I've told so far so, for the people that know me, know that this will be a bastard of a chapter. And also ,for people that know me will also be looking at this chapter going, 'He's not seriously going to talk about this, is he?' Yeah, that's exactly what I'm going to do.

Over the last five years, there have been several moments I am ashamed of. All of which are my own fault. I once launched an egg at someone because the oil that I was supposed to put it in splashed at me.

Did you know that even talking about a certain subject can sometimes bring up feelings you hate? Coming to realise that.

I fell for a woman. Gorgeous, smart, beautiful. We had a lot in common. She was my perfect equal apart from she was caring and humble about it. I'm an arrogant bastard. She was single at the time and I thought I had some form of chance to win her over not knowing everything about her. At this time, I was a very possessive person. I would have done anything to be with her. I let this attribution take control of me at the worst time. I wanted to play the long game, get to know her and eventually ask her out. I went out for drinks with a friend one night. Got absolutely rat arsed. I found out, that night, that she had been asked out by somebody else and she had accepted. I didn't know her very well by this point but because of my possessive compulsion, I took this very personally. It was neither of their fault, just myself.

Some time had passed and I was trying to prove my self worth to this woman. She was still with the same man and I was still jealous. Another night, another time these people were around me, another time that I tried to make it about me.

9 shots of tequila later. 9 exactly. Someone kept count by keeping a tally on my arm. In marker, before you get to excited. I'm not sure of how many other drinks on top but it was 9 tequilas. Anyway, I'd had some minor thoughts in the past of how my life should end but that night my head went into overload. You know, that summer was so bad for me I don't even know if this was the same night. Anyway, after some time and a lot of drinks later, I figured that this was the end of the night for me. Well, end of something for me. I had decided that this was the last straw for my bad luck in this world.

There is a point where half the people I know think a certain habit started but in actual fact this story is where my habit actually began. Everyone has their own stories, where they cut their wrists to fill some form of void, to feel. There are some people who look for it sexually, unfortunately I'm not the lucky. I decided this night out of pure frustration to pull said woman aside, point at a wall and told her that was how I felt when I was around her at that point. I was a brick wall. I wanted noting else at the time to kill that brick wall. So, what I did next is, by far the thing I regret the most. Out of everything I've ever done and believe me, I've done some bad shit. Over and over again, I punched that wall until I could no longer feel my hand and then, I carried on until I broke my hand and then, I carried on until somebody pulled me away from the wall. By this time, I had broken my hand in 2 places, I was bleeding all over the place and I had broken every friendship I had built and every relationship I had hoped to build. I think the most embarrassing thing for me was, the person who bandaged me up was the person who had the balls to ask the woman I had fallen for. Could you imagine? This was the person I had blamed for driving me to the place I was. He helped bandage me up and the woman who I had fallen for was consoling me and trying to help me get through what was in my head. I could not take this. In my head, I would never be able to recover from this. I continued for another 18 months to cut myself, punch walls, headbutt walls, kick and break my hand and other bones in my body. I was always in a mental state where I never thought that I was good enough until I decided that enough was enough.

Surprisingly, when people say that therapy works, they are telling the truth. Big wow. I think its safe to say I am definitely stupid enough to continue writing this nonsense. Well there's a few more chapter so lets see where we end up.

Procrastination

OK so its been a solid 2 months since I wrote the last chapter, which is long enough by anyone's standards, but for me, being the stubborn prick that I am, is no time at all. I mean, I can not do something for an extended period of time. It took me a year to launch a business I could have launched in 6 months only because I changed my mind on whether or not I wanted to start the bastard thing in the first place. It took me spending a grand on my first design to actually say, “Yeah, I'm in too fucking deep here to pull out”.

I've gone through 90% of my life not doing things when they needed to be done in favour of doing them the very last second, mostly because I was scared that they would never work out in the way that I wanted them to and that I would constantly be they failure I feared I always would be. I never believed that anything I was doing was worth the time or effort to do. I decided at the very end of college that I wanted to go to university but by the time I had decided this, it was too late to take seriously and I missed out. I did 3 years in college whilst everybody around me only did 2 because of this. Still, I never went to university so I guess that third year was pointless but the point was that I spent so much time on the internet playing online games instead of revising for exams and concentrating on my coursework.

This got very serious when it got suggested to me that I might need to go to therapy to sort out what was going on inside my head. I kept telling people that I would go eventually because I never though that I was “that” bad but going by what you have read in the previous chapters proves that I made the mistake of putting it off. Big woop. I did go in the end but it took some serious relationship breakdowns, quite a few broken bones and the attraction to my inevitable early grave to accomplish.

I think the message here is to not be afraid of what you thin will fail. Give what you want a try and if it fails, get back up and try it again in a different way. Never give up on something if you really want it to happen and listen to the people who you care about, who also care about you. Especially when they are telling you something is wrong and they are concerned.

One Word Chapter

Vukei

Didn't See That Coming?

Yeah, you probably should have seen that one coming. Its literally called a one word chapter.

It took me two minutes to choose the word. I had an unlimited choice to go with across multiple languages, so me being me went for the most obscure language of Fijian. What does the word mean? Do I look like Google?

There is no moral to this chapter. I just needed to fill in a gap to make this “book” look more full than it actually is. I mean, the moral could be that I've got to a point where I am comfortable enough to actually start doing what I say I am going to and then do it. I still get people telling me to do the most ridiculous things and saying that I will never do them because of the person I used to be. Imagine the look on their faces when I actually come through with the goods. I started a joke with a friend where , when we worked together, we would always listen to Party in the USA by Miley Cyrus whilst we worked and when we stopped working together, whenever the song came, we would SnapChat the other whilst the song was on. We said that this wouldn't last long so I personally made sure that the joke carried on. At the time of this being written we haven't worked together for over a year and the joke is still going.

Swearing

Welcome to this shit storm of a chapter. Do you ever notice that when you hurt yourself in a bad way you cant help but swear. That's because it releases a small amount of dopamine into your brain to help ease the situation you are in and stops some pain in the process. Weird, right? I'm in the strange occupation of chef where I am constantly getting burnt, cut and verbally abused in different languages, so swearing is one of those things that helps with the day to day survival of working in kitchens. I could fall into one of the other 5 habits that a chef develops as a result of the stupid work that we have to do. Those habits being:

Drug Abuse

Alcohol Abuse

Gambling Addiction

Caffeine Addiction

Smoking

I do suffer from 2 of these. Not saying which ones but I do have people around me that think I'm on at least 4 of them so that's nice but in every profession there is the secret, hidden thing that helps them through the day and that's the swearing aspect. I don't think, in the last 3 years, I have gone a day without telling someone that they should fuck themselves or that they are a cunt with them being aware that I am just taking the piss out of them an I don't mean half the shit I say. It just becomes habit to tell people to fuck off or suggest that they shove a large object up their rectums.

I used to knock the shite out of walls to relieve stress but I would always swear like a cunt after I would do it thinking to myself “You are a stupid prick and I hate you”. I would then look at my hand, laugh and say out loud “Ha you are a cunt”. The thought was always I would get over some of the pain if I constantly just swore to myself and carried on as if nothing had happened. Of course, my hand would always hurt for days afterwards and I would be swearing until it healed only to find another wall to knock shite out of and the process would start all over again.

Panic Attacks

A friend once said to me, “Bring A Harmonica Everywhere You Go, So If You Have A Panic Attack You Can At Least Make Some Music”. I never bought the harmonica but it is a very good way to portray what its like to have regular panic attacks. Could you imagine just busking in town, guitar in hand trying to be the next Ed Sheeran and then suddenly, your heart starts to blast out of chest, you feel light headed and you start to hyperventilate. That would be the best time ever to pull out your harmonica. You'll be on the floor with tears rolling down your face but you'll be smashing that cover of You Don't Know How It Feels by Tom Petty.

I starting writing this back when I was having regular panic/anxiety attacks, every 2-3 days in fact, but getting to this point its a bit more every month so, yay progress but I wrote the chapters out months before and I said I would follow through with it so here I am.

Funny story, I once had a panic attack in a nightclub whilst sat on a replica of The Iron Throne from Game of Thrones, whilst my friend was out on the pull. That's the whole story, seriously, but could you imagine having a great time up until the point when you realise you are surrounded by 250+ people you don't know, with a severe case of crowd anxiety and your friend abandons you for the prospect of sex. My head exploded and there was a very attractive looking wall outside that I felt needed a makeover. Never got the makeover, the lucky bastard.

I used to make the biggest mistake for myself whenever I felt anxious, panicky or depressed because when my depression was really bad, my drinking made it so much worse because I lost the control that I had over myself. My mistake in recent times is that, when I started to feel like my old self, I would have a drink to try to combat it. That is the mistake I would make. Try to stay away from my old self by doing what my old self would do.

Its got to a point now where, even where I am reading this back, and nothing in my body reacts. No anxiety, no panic and no depression. Well, saying that, I still have those feelings but they are not nearly as hurt filled as they were in the past. My secret, apart from therapy, on how I deal with life and why I am the way I am now is.

The End?

I mean, is there really an end to a story, an idea? I do have secrets, everyone does. My biggest is that I made a character in myself to try to avoid loving myself and anyone else. I acted as if I didn't care about other people to make it easier on myself if it came to a point where they let me down or, in the more realistic circumstance, where I let them down. I always tell people that I'm not a nice person to put them off this fact so that they see me as the character I made up. I make certain jokes to people to put them off and I say things to them to give them the idea that they need to avoid any form of relationship with me so that they don't get hurt in the crossfire of what I am.

In the 2 years since I have made this character, only 3 people have seen through it and seen me underneath, no matter how much I have tried to put them off. One of which is my mother, another being the woman mentioned in the Self Harm chapter and one more person who I fell for but not in the way I have before. Only because I am afraid of what would happen to me if I had made the same mistakes from before. Its really irritating trying to get people to keep the secret that I am a horrible bastard so I can stay in my own little bubble.

At the time in which I am typing this, I have not been to therapy for 2 months. In this time, I have learnt that:

Not everyone is out to get me

Not every decision I make will fail

I have the self control to not hurt myself physically or mentally

My emotions are not here to hurt me

I am capable of loving myself along with someone else

I am a nice person and I don't need to hide behind my old self

Swearing actually does help, I don't have any regrets there

Bring a harmonica to a panic attack if I want to be the next Tom Petty

Don't throw away the opportunity to love if given it. It will bite you in the arse if you do

Safe to say, even though I have my bad days, I have, recently, barely gone a day without having a smile on my face. For those who know me will know that this is a rare occurrence.

I don't think there will be a day where I don't think about the person I used to be. I'm sure I will use this as a defence mechanism in the future but I know that I will eventually get over it. If you ever see me later, if I ever just clench my fist. Just know that I am trying to counter act my old self. Not very helpful but still.

I want to thank every person who has helped me become who I am now because who I was previous was, to put it lightly, a total cunt. I have become a functioning person, with some glitches, only a couple though. I decided to thank everyone who helped me in person months ago but it needs to be said again to solidify my authenticity.

If you have read it to this far, you are one of the people who have helped me, inadvertently, but still thank you.

Tom

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