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xmorguekittyx · 8 months

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Ever Unlocked

Part 13: 10-54

Part 12: They’re… Yours?

pairing: Officer!Leon Kennedy x Coroner’s Assistant!Reader

warnings: small violence, gaslighting, blame shifting

extra: i’m so sorry this took so much longer, we had a trip to another state and i couldn’t write while i was there but here we have Part 13, this book is soon coming to a close but Ever Locked will take over as soon as this one ends. It will be much longer and i have so so so so so much planned for it. I’m off tomorrow, tonight i work a late night shift but tomorrow im writing Part 14.

10-54, 10-54, 10-54. What an ending to a day full of surprises and shit shows, like a 10-54, Delaney Street, Ridgecrest Apartments. That damn two tone apartment building.

"Apartment 14, Ronda Jones, found deceased with her neck slit...", Rebecca's fingers flip the page back down, her pointer finger moving over the inked words once more as she re-reads the pages. "They're sure it's her?", the trauma was heavy in her voice as she asked her boss the redundant question. "Yeah.", Rebecca turned back towards her assistant whose hand was clawing at the door. Her knuckles white as she peeked around the corner. "I'm so sorry, i know you talked about her from time to time.", Rebecca's pity filled look was more than she could handle.

"Hey-", Rebecca's clipboard was pressed to her chest, her concerned look just drove the nail deeper into her heart. "Why don't i have Leon take you home? His shift is almost over and-", a sob ripped from her lips as she nodded, her hands pressed into her eyes as she turned away from the body on the metal table. "Come on...", Rebecca's hand was quickly placed on her shoulder, rubbing against the lab coat fabric as she guided her assistant back into the main part of the office. "I'm gonna get Leon, you just sit down and get ready to go.", Rebecca's tone was so sweet, calming. Part of her wanted to ask her if she saw anything, she knew the girl would need to be interviewed and spoken to as the neighbor... Watching the assistant sit in her chair, elbows on her knees as her chest heaved with another sob. Rebecca wasn't sure how to help, they dealt with death all the time, constantly near the bodies and sadness that came with the career... but when it was someone you know, someone so close and to be murdered in her own apartment, the same one that she stayed in? Rebecca couldn't imagine the weight.

As she opened the door to step out and find the blonde haired man, she felt her stomach become queasy. She thought about her unlocked window... her unlocked door... it could've been her. Her stomach twisted and turned as she covered her mouth with her hand, the bile taste rising to her throat. She stepped forwards, bumping into something hard, her hand reaching out to grab onto the obstacle. A soft grunt met her ears, her eyes snapping up to the familiar face. Her lips quivered, the numb feeling coming back as she started to sob, her hands clinging onto the vest and the radio digging into her cheek. "Hey, hey...", Leon immediately grabbed her, he felt sick himself. He hadn't meant for her to see it, he just wanted the woman gone... he really hadn't planned very well.

He heard someone clearing their throat, his eyes lifting to see Rebecca, her finger pointing to the girl in his arms as she whispered: 'take her to your place.', to which Leon nodded. He would, he couldn't take her back to hers, he hoped she didn't ask. He ran his free hand down his face, his skin slightly bumped with acne. "Come on, bunny.", he whispered, his lips pressing a kiss onto her head. "Let's get you back home.", he wouldn't admit he knew what happened, he wasn't suppose to know.

"No- no-", she shook her head, "i'm sorry, i'm sorry for earlier, please take me to your place.", she was apologizing and pleading. He felt his heart break, he was cruel and he'd do whatever it took to keep her as his but fuck-! He hadn't meant to scar her for life. He didn't think Rebecca would let her see the body. Then again, his bunny was very unlucky, even if it was his hand that dealt her cards. "Shh. I'm taking you home, what happened?", he didn't want to ask but he had a part to play and he'd be damned if he fucked up now. "Mrs-", she let out a shaky breath, a sob cutting her air off as she gasped. "Jones, murdered-", she couldn't keep talking, her knees nearly gave out as she leaned further into Leon. Her knees buckling and her grip tightening on Leon's vest. His hands came to her elbows, stabilizing her. "Come on, taking you back to my place. Yours isn't safe.", had she been in the better state of mind, she'd ask how he knew her place wasn't safe, but she was too far hysterical right now as Leon lead her out, holding her tight to him.

His hands held her wrists so tight but he needed to keep her up, keep her going as he opened up the door to his Jeep, helping her in. "We'll be home soon, okay?", he felt bad leaving her even if it was just long enough to get in his seat.

He slid in, his keys quickly inserted and cranking the jeep, before he placed his hand on her lap. Her soft crying and muttering had Leon feeling like he'd made a mistake, he wanted to tell her it was all for her, that all of this was for her. She needed to understand sacrifices had to be made for a love as great as theirs- his. He gnawed on the inside of his lip, wearing at the skin as he drove her towards the better side of town. "I need clothes, my tooth brush-", she shook her head, spalling her hands to her thighs. "No, i have extra and you can sleep in my clothes.", he assured her, squeezing above her knee. "I have a tooth brush for you and everything."He had it all for when he finally kept her close, he didn't want her to leave and now was the best way to do so.

————

She was safely sitting on his bed, her little skirt rode up and cheeks painted red from tears. She played with her fingers, her eyes stuck to the floor just in front of her. "I have this shirt and-", Leon's voice was the thing to break her from her spaced out mind set. "Hey, i know this is difficult, but come on, let's take your mind off it it.", he smiled, holding up a grey and red shirt, it was a t-shirt with some school logo on the front. She didn't understand how he thought she could just move on from this so quickly. She was mortified that someone was murdered across from her, if she'd been home she may could've stopped them. If she had gone home last night she maybe couldn't stopped them. She didn't see how she was going to return to the shitty little apartment, her hand covered her mouth again. That's scent all morning, she could never find it. It was- Pushing herself off his bed and making the corner to fall on her knees, the cold tile flush to her heated skin. Her hand holding onto the side of the porcelain seat, her chin digging into the rim as hot, disgusting bile purged from her stomach.

Her nose burnt, belly ached as her stomach lurched, trying to release more impure acid. Leon didn't like how much this affected her, he had just killed her, he still felt a bit guilty but sacrifices have been made for many things and their love was the most important to him. Jones' death wasn't for anything, because now that she was here, he wasn't going to let her go back. He was getting annoyed as he watched her lay her cheek on the toilet seat. "Come on-", Leon walked into the bathroom, his hands slipping under her arms as he went to lift her up. "Someone who means a lot to me just died and you want me to be calm?", she out of us and getting pissed she couldn't comprehend how he was just thinking this was nothing. "Leon, my neighbor was murdered.", she looked back at him, her eyes red from the tears and chin slick with vomit. "I can't even comprehend she's gone.", her hand came up to her face, she felt her face twist up with confusion and hurt. "I can't even imagine what she must've felt. If they came one room over, of if they decided to murder more people. I'd be dead-! ", she waved her hand, trying to let everything that happened today come to a closed this was just too much for her to handle and he was acting as if none of it should bother her, how like she not be bothered?

"You're alive, aren't you? She's not, be grateful that you're still here.", his voice sounded... stern. "I'm sure you're scared- i can see as much.", he squatted down next to her, police uniform pants still baggy in some places, he hadn't filled out, yet, but if this was the path he had to take to keep his love, his. Well, Leon wouldn't mind hitting the gym more and planning a bit better. He can't fuck up like this again. He can't be so, careless. His eyes cut to her as he lifted the toilet paper roll, wrapping it around his hand and tearing it. He couldn't become like her, careless and guileless.

"How are you so calm? Why can't you understand that this really does affect me-", she threw her hand into her lap, she was unsure how he remained so neutral after learning of the crime, maybe it was just because he sees this every day, that maybe his heart had hardened just a little from the job. Hers had. Death and despair heavy in the dark oak office, but it was so close to home. "Because, I've seen this more times than i can count in my few months. I've been the one to go to the scene and find them.", his thumb placed itself in the dip of her chin, paper wiping away the slick on her chin. "I understand you're scared and that you were close to her. I really do, bunny. I'm not trying to be cruel.", he was cruel, he was so twisted in the head over her. "I just want you to be grateful that you're alive, no man is going to come here and slit your-", his eyes caught hers, her eyes were as wide as saucers. She had a glint of fear in them as she pushed his chest, trying to make a gap between them. "I-I didn't-", she slid her ass across the tile, her leg extended to keep a distance between them. "I didn't say she has her throat slit.", her mind went reeling back, her toe bumping his chest as he leaned forwards. "What are you doing?", his bright blue eyes now dark as he leaned forwards, narrowing them at the girl. "Are you implying something, bunny? I work at the station, i over heard it-", "no- William and Riley brought her in... you wouldn't have heard it from them because they were with Chief Irons immediately after-", she felt the anger boiling off his skin. "What are you trying to say?!", his voice had a bass to it she never heard before, her fingers curled into a loose fist as she stared at Leon. "You left yesterday morning, you went out and didn't come back for hours...", she whispered.

"I went to get us breakfast- are you saying I'm a murderer?", his leaned further over her, her knee bending back as he stared down at her. "n-no...", his small outbursts, the grabbing and yelling- he wasn't that violent, he wasn't a bad person. None of it made sense though, maybe she was just grasping for straws, her mind so broke over this she was going insane trying to put pieces that didn't belong together. Her eyes snapped back to his, his fingers sliding past her cheek as she flinched from his touch. "If you're going to say something with that much weight to it, be certain of your words, bunny.", he dug his fingers into her chin. "I go out early in the morning to buy you breakfast days in a row, i pick you up from your shitty ass apartment-", the curse sounded so foreign in his vocabulary. "and you have the nerve to throw all of it out and accuse me of murder in the same day?", her lips let out a whimper, his fingers bruising her chin. "You're an ungrateful brat, bunny.", this was not a light she thought she'd ever see the shy rookie in. She felt the handle of the cabinet pressing into her back, her foot still pressed to his chest as he folded her. He had this- her chest clenched just looking at the features on his face. His lips pulled back in a snarl, eyes so dark, she wondered how she ever saw the light in them before.

"You're so lucky someone like me wants to protect you, your stupid little ass, leaving windows and doors unlocked. You're asking for someone to come into your home and hurt you.", his tone was something of nightmares, the devotion and horror laced together in some lifetime film-esque manner. "but i've protected you, i've made sure that apartment was a safe space for you. I checked on you-", his fingers moved to caress her cheeks. She was paralyzed by whatever emotion she was feeling, rather the lack of feeling. She was so numb as she zoned out, her eyes stuck to his face. "i just want what's best for us, but you make it so hard to keep you safe. You ask questions, you over think, you make it hard for me, bunny.", that darkness snuck back into his words. "I won't have to worry about that much longer...", the back of his finger touched under her eyes, petting down her cheek. "you're sick!", she kicked his chest, snapping back from whatever reality she tried to use to block all of this out. A grunt left his lips, his eyes widening for a mere second of shock as he reached for her leg. She felt his hand grab her ankle as her chest and arms hit the tile. She lifted her hand, nails and fingers dug into the door frame. "You're not leaving!", he growled, pulling her back as she clung desperately onto the door. She remembered that first day, how she made the comment about him and he reacted in such a negative way... he couldn't stand being called anything like stalker, creepy- murderer.

His nails dug into her skin, a cry of pain left her as her fingers were forced from the door. "Don't make me hurt you! You're making me do things i don't want to do, bunny!", he yelled, pulling her by her legs; then skirt, then shirt to get her back to where he could grab her. His hands locked around her chest. His head on her shoulder as she sobbed. "Please, stop crying-", his voice was soft and sweet, unlike the sheer power and authority he had moments ago. She sat perched on his lap, her head tilted away from him. "I didn't want this for you... you're leaving me no choice, sweet girl.", he pressed a kiss behind her ear. "I'm giving you once chance to cooperate with me and we can talk this all out.", she didn't want to talk anything out with him. She wanted to go back to her home, her home before she ever even let the boy into her life.

Leon released her, moving to stand up, he took her silence as submission. She made a break for it as soon as she was free, his brows set and his hand reached out. Her ankle caught between his fingers once more, laying weight into the already showing bruises. Her body was stalled mid air, her chest and head taking the brunt of the fall, she was forced into. Leon watched the tile under her head crack, the five behind her fall rendering her nearly unconscious as a mumble of incoherent words fell from those pretty puffy lips. "Bunny, bunny, bunny...", Leon stood the rest of the way up, cracking his back as he stood erect. "I warned you, you were such a good girl f' me. Now you're just becoming such a bad little girl. I'll make sure you learn your place. You'll be safe here-", he walked around to her head, seeing her eyes dilated and shaky as she didn't even try to sit up. "You won't have to worry about that murderer or anything else... i'll take care of you.", he squatted down to her level once more, fingers digging into her hair and brushing it back behind her ear. "I love you.", he whispered, seeing her eyes start to flutter closed. "I had to do what was necessary to protect our love. You'll understand it all, soon, bunny.", his eyes were hard but there was a softness only for her, despite how much she pushed his mind into these horrifying thoughts and actions. He didn't blame her, as much as he felt maybe he was awaken into something more. Maybe, this was what love was suppose to feel like? It was heavy and a burden to bear, but for her, he'd do anything.

She couldn't even hear him anymore, the ringing in her ear, the sound of the tile cracking under her head. It rang in her ears over and over, she felt warm blood soak the side of her scalp. She watched him look over her, she prayed it was some realistic lucid dream, that he was just her demon and she'd wake up back at home in her purple sheets. She couldn't find the strength to sit up, she felt his fingers move her hair out of her face but she couldn't move her eyes to meet the raging ocean that was his. Her last seconds missing out on hearing his confession of love and murder.

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miuszn · 1 year

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Ok i Just found my new fav writer 🤍so i NEED to ask this ( do It only if you want)

What about an ellie x fem!reader where they go out on Patrol ,they run into a lot of zombies of every type , ellie gets bit and reader sees It so now ellie needs to explain the whole immunity thing and reader believes her ,

They go back to Jackson where Joel (lets Say he skipped golf lessons this time) finds out and freaks out and gets mad at ellie cause She wasnt supposed to tell anyone so he wants ellie to break up with reader but ellie doesnt want to so they fight and ellie goes back to reader for comfort

Its up to you if Joel and ellie fix this whole argument thing

(also Sorry if my english Is perfect🤍)

hiii anon <33 first of all i’m so honored u consider me ur fav writer i never expected to get so much love from the community so fast im rlly grateful to all of u hehe <33 . anyway , i rlly love ur idea !! i decided to write a short drabble instead because i’m working on another fic but i still wanna post some stuff while i’m working on that , hope ur fine w that 🥹🩷 ( note : this is an alternate universe where ellie already forgave joel and they were starting to fix their relationship .. also this might be kinda ooc especially joel bc i’ve never written him before eheh )

— 𓆩♥︎𓆪 —

you weren’t sure how it happened. you were only gone for a second, you swore, and somehow ellie got bit. you knew it was a bad idea to leave her in a room full of clickers, but you knew she was strong and should’ve been able to clear them out with ease. the second you saw the small bite mark on her hand, you realized what had happened. your heart sank. in a panic, you burst into tears and kept apologizing over and over for about 15 minutes until ellie was able to calm you down and explained to you that she’s immune, leaving out the details of the whole situation with joel and the fireflies. of course, you didn’t believe her. it seemed ridiculous. how the hell would someone be immune and not be out there in some lab being researched or whatever, like in movies?

it took you a while to believe her, but eventually, you did. you helped wrap her hand with bandages so no one would see the note mark, because the less people knew, the better.

you were distraught for the rest of the day. you felt horrible. she kept telling you there’s no need to keep apologizing, but you still felt the need to. what if that had been someone else? what if ellie wasn’t immune? how the hell was she immune in the first place? so many questions ran through your head.

later that night, you laid awake still thinking about today. you were disappointed with yourself for what you did, yet still so confused.

you heard some knocking on your window, and looked out to see ellie. you opened your window and let her in. she sat on your bed next to you.

“what’re you doing here?” you asked.

“just wanted to check on you,” she replied, “and. uh. joel’s kinda mad.”

you were confused. you wondered how he even found out, but it’s like she read your mind and answered.

“i told him about what happened today. just casually. and he completely lost it.”

— 𓆩♥︎𓆪 —

“i can’t believe that girl let you get bit.” joel wasn’t even looking ellie in the eye. he was extremely disappointed in both of you.

“it wasn’t her fuckin’ fault, joel! i didn’t think anything bad would happen either! if you’re gonna blame anyone, blame me-“

“i’m blamin’ the both of you! what the fuck did you think was gonna happen back there? leaving you in a room full of clickers to fend for yourself? now one more person knows about you bien’ immune and all. god knows if she can even keep a secret.”

“what the fuck makes you think shes just gonna tell everyone? she’s not like that at all. why the hell are you acting like you don’t know that-“

“why the hell are you actin’ like that girl’s any good for you? all she does is get you into trouble.”

ellie went silent. she was shocked at how different he was acting. all this time he had been so nice to you, not once showing a sign of not trusting you or disliking you. she was conflicted, and in the heat of the moment, she just turned around and left, fuming with anger. she was starting to wonder if joel was actually right, but realized that was such a stupid thought. the worst part is, she wasn’t even sure if he meant it. now she didn’t know what to do. just as they were starting to fix things, life threw another curveball at them.

— 𓆩♥︎𓆪 —

you were hurt by what ellie was saying. his words just further fueled the thoughts in the back of your mind saying that this was all your fault. but ellie realized this and tried her best to comfort you. she kept saying it wasn’t your fault, that she fucked up too, that she’s sure he didn’t mean it and he was just angry. while you were hurt by his words, that wasn’t your main concern. you thought about how this incident just further damaged their already broken bond that they’ve been trying to fix these days. you felt like because of you, all that progress was thrown away in less than 24 hours. and it was an ugly feeling. you felt even worse than you did before, and you didn’t know what to do.

“ellie..” you placed your hand on hers, “i’m sorry.” you started to tear up.

“hey..” she pulled you close and hugged you.

“it’s just.. i don’t know what exactly happened with you and joel. you don’t have to tell me. and everything is getting better now and i’m just scared i’ve ruined it and i just-“

“hey,” she interrupted you, “don’t worry about that, okay? it’s not your fault. i’ll.. i’ll figure it out. you don’t have to worry about me and joel. we’ll be fine.”

“are you going to forgive him for it?”

“i’m not sure,” she sighed. “if he didn’t mean it, maybe. but if he did, i doubt i can.”

“i don’t want you to lose progress with him just because of me..”

“we’ll be fine. please.. just.. stop worrying, okay?”

you nodded hesitantly.

while the guilt of possibly extending the process of ellie’s forgiveness of joel would continue to exist within you, at least for as long as it took her to finally reconcile with him, you were grateful to have her by your side. and you were sure to be with her every step of the way.

#arielle’s drabbles ୨୧ #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #the last of us #ellie x reader #the last of us 2 #tlou #tlou 2 #ellie williams x you #tlou x reader #joel miller #ellie and joel

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sugarmapl · 1 year

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Prompt time!

Scara being a brat cuz he wants negative attention and Kazuha not falling for it

Kazuha hugs him and scara cries

The end

Do with this what you will, but I'd like scara to have a little angst, as a treat

(No pressure though I know you got stuff going on! Have a fantastic day and remember to drink water and do your stretches!)

Awww thank you so much!! I hope you have a great day as well <3 and I gotta say, this prompt was awesome! I really liked writing it so much that I jotted this down ASAP! I really really hope you like it!! (p.s. i love scara angst!)

kazuscara drabble ~800 words; angst with a happy ending :)

a name

Scara was bored. Kazuha had been busy all morning with “sword maintenance” and asked that the puppet not disturb him for a little while. But what was he supposed to do? Wait around like some pathetic housewife? So, of course, he had to bother the samurai.

The entire scenario reminded him of his time in the Fatui, spending long hours with Dottore in his lab. Scara would wait what felt like an eternity while The Doctor was busy with an experiment, or pouring over results of a test they had just run. Inevitably, the puppet would grow restless in his boredom and end up pestering Dottore one way or another until the fellow harbinger had enough and snapped at him.

He would “punish” Scara by hitting him, or cutting him open, or calling him a series of colorful and degrading names. But Scara never minded those “punishments”. Secretly, he craved them. In those moments, he always had The Doctor’s full attention. No matter what insulting words and names were thrown at him, he loved them all. Because they were his. Scara had never gotten a proper name, so he would take anything he could get.

The puppet wondered if the same method would work on Kazuha. If he bothered him enough, would the samurai “punish” him too? He decided it was worth a shot. It had been a while since he craved such strong attention, and it had already been hours since Kazuha went into the other room to polish and sharpen his blade. Apparently, it had some kind of spirit trapped inside of it, so it required special attention. But Scara required special attention, too!

Without further hesitation, he pushed open the wooden door to their little makeshift blacksmithy. Instantly, Kazuha’s head whipped around at the intrusion.

“Scara, I thought I asked you not to disturb me,” the samurai said calmly. He wouldn’t be an easy one to break.

“Yeah, so what? You expect me to listen? I’m bored,” Scara whined. He started fiddling with the smithing tools on the workbench, picking them up and playing with them before putting them back down in a different place.

Kazuha was very orderly when it came to the tools, so the puppet knew that the action would get on the samurai’s nerves. However, Kazuha surprisingly remained unflinching, merely letting out a light sigh.

“Please don’t touch those. I’m almost done, so just wait outside,” he said in his usual gentle tone.

Scara was unsatisfied. Shouldn’t he be getting annoyed by now? Dottore always hated when he messed with his stuff, he assumed most humans would be no different. That would have been more than enough to set The Doctor off by now. Maybe Kazuha just needed an extra little push.

The puppet walked over, draping himself across Kazuha’s body and leaning into him. The samurai sat with his sword in his hand, and from the added pressure was forced to double over at the waist. He merely grunted, but made no move to push Scara off or smack him like the puppet expected.

“I’m not gonna leave until you play with me. Haven’t you given the stupid sword enough attention already?” he grumbled from on top of him. As he spoke, he increased the pressure on the other’s back.

“I only need a few more minutes, I promise,” Kazuha told him gently.

Now Scara was the one getting annoyed. Why wasn’t Kazuha getting angry? Why wasn’t he caving? Was Scara so inconsequential in the samurai’s eyes that he wasn’t even worth getting upset over? Frustrated, he reached down and yanked the red blade out of Kazuha’s hands before chucking it across the room.

“No, I want you to be done now,” he spat bitterly. He didn’t know why he was getting so angry. He was supposed to be the one pissing Kazuha off, but the samurai’s indifference stung even more.

“Scara!” Kazuha finally cried in exasperation once his sword had been tossed away. But he still didn’t sound irritated, more like surprised. Just how much patience could one person have?

“What’s the matter with you?” Scara couldn’t help but ask.

Kazuha looked back at him in confusion. He finally stood up so that they were facing each other. “With me?”

“Yes! Why don’t you push me off? Or call me names, or smack me, or-”

“Is that what you want?” Kazuha asked, still perplexed.

“I just want you to do something, anything, but you won’t even acknowledge me! I-”

He stopped talking, because in an instant Kazuha had wrapped him into a hug. It was tight, but not suffocating. Soon after, Scara felt a soothing hand running up and down his back.

“What-”

“I’m sorry,” Kazuha interrupted him in a whisper. The words brushed the puppet’s ear, making their way to his non-existent heart where they settled like an anchor.

Scara couldn’t even reply because he was too busy choking back a sob. Subconsciously, his own arms raised to wrap around Kazuha and return the hug just as the first tear slipped free. From there, it was like the floodgates had opened, and suddenly the samurai’s shoulder was drenched.

“It’s okay,” Kazuha said softly, “I see you, darling.”

And that only made Scara cry harder. He had just received his first precious name.

#genshin fanfic #genshin impact #kazuscara #genshin angst #scaramouche #kaedehara kazuha #fanfic request

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space-helen · 9 months

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Takeout

Words: 711

Pairing: Greg Sanders x Reader

A/N: Have thisss! Sorry it's taken so long

Request: hello. i see your requests are still open and i was wondering if it will be alright if i could request a greg sanders price of writing. basically where the reader and greg have a day off work and they just spend the day at their home together, and it is full of fluff. - Anon

______________________

“What do you mean we have none?” you turned on the couch and looked towards the man.

“We’re out. We’ll have to order takeout.” He gestured to the empty pasta packet.

“Do we have anything-”

“Just let me order takeout.” he said playfully as he left the room.

You rolled your eyes and got comfy again “Sure, as long as it’s pizza.”

He poked his head around the doorframe “Now, that sounds amazing.”

Turning your eyes met the man and you smiled feeling instant warmth and comfort as you looked into them. Greg's smile seemed to get bigger, giving you a quick wink he turned and left you once again.

Turning back towards the TV you leaned forward and grabbed the remote. Zoning in on the TV you flicked through the channels and before long you felt the sofa dipping beside you.

“Find anything good yet?”

“Nope” you handed the man the remote “Just boring TV on this evening.”

Taking the remote he began to flick through the channels as well “I’ve ordered the pizza.”

You snuggled into the side of him as he reached one arm around you to bring you closer into his side. “Look.” He gestured towards the TV with the remote “Vegas the untold stories”

You laughed, “There’s nothing else on, so sure.”

“Hey!” he looked down at you as you looked up at him “You love it really.” he gently tapped you on the forehead with the remote and placed it down.

Settling back into his side you pulled the blanket from your lap over the man.

“I’m absolutely not looking forward to going back to work tomorrow.”

You felt the man relax into the sofa as he sighed “Me either. But at least it seems relatively quiet-”

“Don’t say that.” you said in jest as you shook your head “You know what happens when you say that.”

“Alright, alright.” he cuddled you closer into his side and placed a kiss to your hair “Let's forget about work and just relax.”

Greg took some of the blanket and tucked it around you gently. Snuggling into his side the two of you relaxed further into the sofa when the a knock at the door had you both jumping slightly.

The two of you grumbled in unison and got to your feet at the same time. Heading towards the front door Greg smoothly opened it and took the pizza boxes before passing them back to you. Turning on your heels you walked to the kitchen and placed the boxes down as Greg made small talk with the delivery driver and wished him well.

Opening the boxes you transferred the pizza onto plates, knowing that Greg would go crazy if you put the greasy boxes onto the new coffee table, before carrying them back to the living room.

The man combed a hand through his hair as he plopped back into the seat beside you. Leaning forward he grabbed a plate of pizza and balanced it on his lap for the two of you.

Taking a slice you took a bite as you flattened the blanket on your lap as you watched the adverts on the TV. The two of you stopped eating for a moment when an advert for a show called ‘inside the lives of crime scene investigators’ came on.

The advert showed a group of investigators scouting through scenes and abnormally close shots of their faces in interview stages. You couldn’t help but laugh as soon as the advert ended “We have to watch that.” you leaned forward to grab the remote and started to scroll through the TV guide to find the show, hoping to record it.

“It looks like it’s going to be absolute garbage.”

“You’re telling me you don’t want to see what other labs have? What they’re doing?” finding the show you quickly pressed record before closing the menu and putting the remote back down.

“Yeah I suppose. I just know it’s going to be painful and insensitive.” he continued to eat his pizza and you did the same.

“Have hope. If it’s bad, we have something to laugh at. If it's actually good, we have something to learn from. If it’s insensitive… well we can have something to be angry at.”

Tag List: (open)

CSI: @perasperaadastrawriting @penny4yourthoughts @kitbydesign

#greg sanders x reader #csi sanders x reader #csi vegas x reader #csi x reader

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x-pair-o-dice-x · 8 months

Note

Can you please tell us more about the lab-raccooninnit au?

HI HI SORRY tumblr didn’t give me a notif for this, so i only saw it like three days later. and then i forgor

ANYWAY,, it’s been a while but,, yeah yeah i can see what else i can remember about it!!

i did try writing a fic for it, buuuut unfortunately i never finished it, 😔. if you haven’t seen it yet, i put it in my scraps on ao3!

lemme see…. i never mentioned this, i don’t think, nor have a really expanded on it,, but i believe schlatt was supposed to be related to the lab tommy came from? maybe he was supporting it, or maybe he was the lead scientist or something,, i’m not sure.

tubbo was also supposed to be here, too! he’s schlatt’s kid, but he prolly didn’t know anything about what the lab was doing, if he knew about it at all. so– seeing tommy is definitely a surprise, the first time.

i’ve shown i’m this in drawings before, but tommy can shapeshift slightly, as well as sizeshift! he can look human-ish, with raccoon ears and tail, or he can just– be a full-on raccoon.

imagining ranboo hanging out around a nearby town, with tommy as a regular-looking raccoon(disregarding the blonde fur, that is) on his shoulders,, with ranboo claiming tommy to be just some dog. no one is fooled by this, of course, but no one really says anything about it, anyway,,, skdbkdndkd.

anyway– i think that’s about all i have to share rn? so take these really old doodles!!! i forget if i shared some of them already or not,, kdbdkdbd

#asks #mcyt gt #mcyt g/t #my art #lab-raccooninnit au #tiny!ranboo #giant!tommy #sizeshifter!tommy

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intrepidacious · 1 year

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time after time: reread edition [1]

series summary: After what starts out as a fairly normal mission, you find yourself stuck in a time loop. Which would already be bad enough in itself if it didn’t also mean having to watch Bucky die over and over again.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

word count: 6.0k

chapter warnings: canon-typical violence, accidentally starting a time loop, banter, pretty angsty to start us off with ngl, reminder to read the fic premise. please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

read the full chapter here | series masterlist | reread masterlist

wouldn't you know it, it's friday already!! this is a reread of already published chapters, so if you're new to this story, i would highly suggest not starting here and reading the actual story first. please be aware that by clicking the read more you're gonna see spoilers for chapter one 💚

how it started

welcome to the reread. i'm pretty sure this is the part of the post i'll only do once, but we'll see how it goes.

i swear to god, i only wanted to write a fun little time loop fic. it was never supposed to be this huge thing; it just kept growing. it's two years later now and i'm still writing—granted, that's after taking several long breaks because this story gives me headaches like no other, but still. i've never poured this much love into one story, i think.

and we can all blame russian doll for it.

turn back the clock – tl;dr

we start with a mission. sam, bucky and the reader, soon-to-be nicknamed twelve, are checking up on a secret lab. against all odds, bucky gets killed right before the fight seems to be won. twelve uses her time powers to prevent this from happening, loses consciousness and wakes up in her bed earlier that day. she goes through the entire day again, thinking her reset worked as intended, only for bucky to die in a different situation during the same mission and her waking up in her bed again.

behind the loop

welcome to my first running commentary on my own story. you’re gonna be sick of me really soon.

depending on how new you are to this story, you might not know that the chapter titles are all taken from movies. sadly i haven't seen most of them but the ones i have seen do feature a little in one way or another. more about that when we get to that point, though. the title cards for this story were also so fun to make because i just recoloured the actual movie posters!!

i’m gonna be honest with you, i keep forgetting that this first flashback exists. but i lowkey love it?? i like how it sets the tone for the angst that’s stitched into the very fabric of this story while simultaneously being juxtaposed with the first actual, very blunt introduction of our main cast.

the start of that mission was one of the first things i ever wrote for this fic, but the whole transition from the upstairs lab to downstairs and the actual fight scene were the last parts before posting.

“Do you think I’d pass up the opportunity to hear the two of you scream in terror when the vampire puppets creep up on you?” “Gotta disappoint you, cap,” you grin and wait for him to check the map. “I only scream when there’s good reason.” “I don’t wanna interrupt,” Bucky interrupts over the intercom, “but they’re heading your way now, so get a move on.”

writing banter is one of my all-time favourite activities. i also already knew at this point that i was gonna write a lot of it over and over again, and so i needed to vary the interjections in order to not bore everyone to bits. i like to think it worked out, but you tell me.

my beloved nightmare flashmob was such a fun antagonist to include. they will be named in the next chapter but if there are comic readers among you, i feel like i have to apologise because i definitely haven’t read enough of them to properly do these guys justice. they did seem like a logical step up from the version of the flag smasher(s) we encountered in tfatws, though. plus, there’s just enough of them to be a realistic threat to three very capable superheroes.

And then his eyes glaze over. You scream.

i’m so evil lmao

You wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume.

spoiler alert, you’ll encounter that sentence a couple of times. and i still love it. fun fact, i genuinely set my playlist to shuffle to decide on the song that was going to play to wake her up, and this was the one i landed on. and i couldn’t have come up with a better choice. honestly, look at the lyrics and tell me i’m wrong. i love how things work out sometimes.

originally, the decision to set the story on july 4th was very practical because i needed my available settings to be limited. this isn’t punxsutawney, pennsylvania in the middle of a snowstorm, this is new york city after the blip. i wanted our characters to have at least somewhat limited options what to do during their ever-repeating day. (on a sidenote, do you think we’ll ever see avengers compound again in the mcu? how long are they going to rebuild that thing? anyway.)

“Feels a little … déjà-vu-y.” “I know the type,” Sam says. “Wanna talk about it?” You do. But the time stuff is your problem to deal with, and so you shake your head.

isn’t it great to have a full ensemble of characters who absolutely will not talk about their feelings to each other? (derogatory) is it more interesting from a narrative point of view? … i suppose.

i love twelve’s rings though. are they entirely useless for the duration of this loop? maybe. but i love that she has them to physically show her how stuck she is <3 other things that i love: bucky calling sam bud. it just makes sense.

A surge of emptiness goes through you, unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. Time seems to still for just the blink of an eye as Bucky’s head is thrown forwards.

and there we have it. ✨dread.✨ this is such an evil way to end a chapter, wow. i had fun, though. was it fun for you?

how it's going

well, actually. i've been writing chapter seven as well as a secret bonus chapter this week, and i've made reasonable progress on both which i'm quite proud of. i really hope i can report that i got started on chapter eight this time next week, but we'll see. i think the worst of my writer's block is gone, at least. and all it took was a little self-indulgence and an external deadline. who'd have thunk.

if you made it to this point of my rambles, thank you. lmk how i can keep these interesting for you to read, and if you have any questions about the story, you know where to find me!! also: please please please consider leaving a comment or a reblog on the actual chapter. it would mean the world 💚

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes series #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfic #time after time

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strawwritesfic · 2 years

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Tony Stark x Personal Assistant!Reader: Chainsaw

Summary: For a guy with no lack of romantic prospects, he chooses the oddest times to pick them up.

Rating/Warnings/Tags: All (post-Iron Man 2; past!Tony/Pepper; Stark CEO!Pepper; quasi-references to Sentient Armor)

Challenge: “120 Bits of Random” challenge by SugarLandBabyGirl on Lunaescence Archives.

Notes: *sings* It’s not actually a chainsaw, but I’m not going to write a brand new ficlet just because of that! *ends song*

Thanks to the person who told me it wasn’t a chainsaw, though.

I really debated on whether or not to post this one. In the end, I decided to. It’s not embarrassingly bad, and you guys surprise me sometimes with what of my old stuff you respond to.

Tag list: @imaginesfire

Chainsaw

The entire lab smelled of heat and sweat. The scent might have been overwhelming, had there not been something else to take your attention away from it: the horrible grinding of a SawzAll against metal.

Sparks flashed through the air as you pressed the blade harder into the chain below you. You could hardly see even with your protective eyewear on. Worse still, you’d been at this so long that you could practically taste all that heat, sweat, and metal in the air.

“Stop! Stop! God, stop!” came a very faint voice to your lower left.

“What? Oh. Oh!” you shouted, shutting the reciprocating saw off. Your too-loud voice rang through the air when you added, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” said Tony Stark.

You hopped one rung down your ladder and tottered, one hand still gripped around the saw’s handle.

“Careful!” he added. “I don’t need my only chance of escape sawing off their own arm.”

You steadied yourself the best you could with one hand occupied. After removing your goggles, you eyed the chain pulling Tony’s arm toward the ceiling. “Not a scratch. What’d you make this out of?”

“Metal,” he snapped.

“Hey, I’m not the one who created a berserker suit of armor and had to chain myself to the building while inside the berserker suit of armor so that it couldn’t get loose–forgetting, in the process, that the suit could lock me in.”

The blank face of his armor considered you in silence, and with good reason. You rarely mouthed off to your boss unless the CEO of his company was around to back you up. It had been a long day for both of you. In fact, the more you thought about it, the less you wanted to continue with this day.

“Forget it.” You set the SawzAll on the nearest flat surface. “Get out on your own.”

You hadn’t even got off the ladder before he cried, “Wait!”

Scowling, you clambered back up to face him. When he spoke again, he sounded as though he were trying hard to sound contrite:

“I’m sorry. You’re being helpful. I’m just frustrated—with myself. And I really have to pee.”

“I thought you had a–”

“It’s full.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, so.” Tony lifted his hands; the chains anchored to the ceiling rattled. “I just asked you to stop because you were getting a little close to my fingers. I panicked. Can you blame me?”

“I suppose not.” Sighing, you took another look at those chains. “But it’s been forty-five minutes. I don’t think I can keep this up without sawing something of yours off.”

“Just a little more. You’ve almost got it.”

You stared at him. How did he always manage to sucker you when he went into Encouragement Mode? Were you really that desperate for a compliment? Apparently so.

“Fine,” you said with a snort. You picked the SawzAll up and prepared to fire it up once more.

“Wait!” said Tony.

“What now?”

When you looked back, the armor’s face was turned up contemplatively toward yours. Well, or so you thought. It was kind of hard to tell without seeing Tony’s face beneath it.

“You’re really very attractive,” he said conversationally. “Did you know that? I never noticed before, but in this lighting–wow.”

“Gee, thanks.” You hoped he wouldn’t notice how fast your pulse raced at the comment, especially given that he hadn’t exactly paid you a compliment. “Is this how you won Pepper over?”

“Actually, I destroyed her professional reputation, and then I ditched her on a balcony."

“Great,” you said as sarcastically as you could. “I can’t wait for that last bit.”

He tugged again at one of the chains. “I’m not ditching you, babe. I’m all yours.”

“Let’s just get you out of there. You’re getting loopy.”

“I’ll be free. You’ll still be attractive.”

“One can only hope,” you muttered. You hoped he couldn’t hear you above the returned shriek of your SawzAll, too.

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princessgriffin1998 · 2 years

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Specimen FX-23: Project Snow Fox // REBIRTH

Hello everyone!

I know I’ve been trying to edit my previous instalment to this series so that I can proudly present: REBIRTH. Part two of the Specimen FX-23 story.

I won’t lie, it’s been really challenging personally to write and have the bravery to post this, but I’m going to continue to push myself outside my comfort zone. I have quite a bit of the story completed, so I am going to do my best to see my story fully realized. I want to give a huge thanks to @maladaptivexxdaydreaming for always being so sweet to me and encouraging me to write, and I want to thank you for clicking this post and checking out my fun, zany lil world I’ve created for myself. I hope you enjoy the story and please leave your feedback in the comments!

This is a Bucky Barnes x Reader story with an AFAB reader and the use of nicknames (no Y/N).

Find the full story here!

Chapter Summary: After a few days with Shuri at the Los Angeles Wakandan Outreach Centre, Captain Rogers has arrived to bring you to the Avengers Compound.

Word count: 5.5k

RECOVERY / Next Chapter

Chapter One: Good-bye

“Good morning Soldat.” a man's voice greets you as you pant. The last of the electric current fizzled out of your system as your eyes finally unscrewed themselves and tried to focus on the technician in front of you.

“Ready to comply.” you respond breathlessly.

“We have a different training exercise for you today. New combatants. Get equipped and be in the training room in 10 minutes.” with that your technician stalked out of the room, the door bolting behind him. The clamps around your biceps and ankles launched open with a hiss and you shakily stood. You knew better than to be late as you made your way over to the metal lab table that held your equipment for the day.

You showed no emotion as you took in the suit in front of you. It wasn’t your normal lab clothing. You reached out a cautious hand to test the dark coloured fabric. It felt strong despite how smoothly the fabric flowed. You quickly stripped and changed into the suit, uncaring of the leering gaze from the scientists behind you. They only spoke English anyways and you hadn’t been able to learn enough to understand what they said about you while you undressed. You quickly slipped on the black socks and knee high boots left out for you. You secured your hair down the nape of your neck and away from your face as you glanced at the last item on the table. It was completely foreign to you. Slowly with your index figure, you traced over the smooth material of the item. You picked it up and turned to the scientists behind you.

“What do I do with this?” you called out in Russian.

You expected the eye roll from the man with the glasses; Doctor Nagel. Something deep in your gut told you that you shouldn’t let them know how much you could understand. Even though they rolled their eyes or got irritated with you, you never used any of the English words you had been able to piece together over… well, your whole life here.

“Silly girl. Can’t you see the ear hooks?” Nagel motioned his hands up to the sides of his head as if that was supposed to clear things up for you. You blinked at him till he threw his hands up and stalked over to you.

“Give that to me. Hands at your sides.” he commanded and you handed the item to him then pinned your wrists to the outsides of your thighs.

Nagel was your creator. You had no choice but to listen when he spoke to you. You’d tried to resist before, but found you were physically incapable of denying his wishes. No matter how disgusting they were. Nagel reached out and slipped the object around your mouth and nose, hooking the loops over your ears and securing what you assumed to be some kind of fabric fastening around the back of your head and along the nape of your neck. You could feel where it connected to the neckline of your suit. Out of the corner of your eye you could see your startling reflection in the lab window. Suited in all black up to your nose, your eyes glinting over the top of your new muzzle.

“Perfect. I think she’s ready for the Widows boys! Get to the training room now.” Nagel sneered and you raised your chin as best you could from under the muzzle before taking quick strides towards the training door.

When you entered the room, you were surprised to see another girl, but upon another glance around the room you realized there were several women, all similarly outfitted to you, minus the guard over the face. At the end of the gym, there were new men. They weren’t dressed in the standard lab clothing that your handlers wore. They wore suits with pressed pants. An older gentleman stood between several assumed guards, thick black glasses perched on his wide nose. He had silver hair that was slicked back and his left hand twirled a lit cigar. A ring flashed on his pinky.

“Soldat! Center of the ring.” your technician snapped.

You moved smoothly to stand opposite the young woman in the centre of the ring. She had warm, deep toned skin and piercing brown eyes. Her hair, a texture you’d not seen on any of the regular technicians that came to your lab, was twisting tightly in rows starting at her forehead and tracing down the back of her head to her neck. She glared at you and you clenched your jaw. She was beautiful. Your only human experience thus far had been the cruel men of your lab. Faintly, you wondered if she’d be allowed to live after whatever training was coming next.

“Gentlemen, welcome to the next phase of human evolution!” Nagel announced from behind you. You pressed your palms flat against your thighs as Nagel made his way around you, tossing an arm around your shoulder as he spoke to the new men.

“Today, we would like to show you the fruits of your money and our labour. Gentlemen I’d like to introduce you to Specimen 23 of Project Snow Fox.”

You startle awake, the dream leaving you in a cold sweat as you try to catch your breath. Your heart was pounding in your ears, a sure fire sign of a migraine on its way. Subconsciously you rub the back of your neck as you lay back down on your pillow, trying to breathe deeply and taking in the bumpy white ceiling above you.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, it hits you what day it is and you shoot upright in your hotel bed a second time.

Today is the day.

Any remaining traces of your nightmare vanish as you throw yourself out of bed and into the bathroom to begin your morning routine. Quickly brushing your teeth and securing your hair back and out of your face, you whip off your sleeping clothes and quickly change into an all black ensemble of cropped yoga pants, an athletic tank top with a sports bra underneath, and a black zip up. You make your bed and quickly go through your duffel bag again, everything perfectly folded and packed from when you’d refolded and packed it for the third time last night.

Today is the day.

Smiling, you slip on some black boots and grab a pair of aviator sunglasses. You put on a plain black ball cap, tucking your hair through the gap above the adjustment strap. You grab your backpack and adjust the straps slightly so that it sits comfortable on your back, giggling to yourself about the shape. Shuri had thought it was hilarious, grabbing the tiny backpack that looked like Cap’s suit. The two of you had snickered the entire time you were paying.

You quickly made sure you had all your important items inside the backpack; your music device from Shuri with your headphones, your journals and a pencil case of different pencils and fancy pens, a metal water bottle, a set of kimoyo beads Shuri had gifted you before your trip, and half a strip of photos from a photo booth. Shuri had taken you to a mall to get some American clothing and the two of you had stopped on a whim at a booth in the mall. Shuri had the top half of the strip and you had the bottom; two panels of you and Shuri grinning from ear to ear, almost spilling your smoothies on each other while laughing.

With a deep inhale, you take in one last glance at the hotel room that had been your home for the last week, before grabbing your room key and making your way down to the lobby to meet Shuri.

‘Today is the day.’

You and Shuri had been staying in a hotel down the road from the Wakandan Outreach Centre for six days. You haven’t seen Bucky or the rest of the team in nine.

After the fight in the lab you had been devastated. It had taken almost a full 24 hours for Shuri to be able to move you from your spot bundled up on the couch. All you’d had the energy for was quietly crying while Shuri rotated different movies for you. She put on all your favourites and brought you snacks that you couldn’t stomach and water you could barely sip.

You knew that Bucky might be upset with you for wanting to leave Wakanda, given that he’d been hiding the offer from you. He’d clearly not wanted you to move to America yet, and even though yesterday you had been hurting you had hoped that he still cared about you despite being worried about Hydra’s potential control. Obviously he just couldn’t trust Hydra, and you knew with his background that you would probably always be a threat to his family.

Maybe this was your fault too. You’d evidently read too far into his kindness. You’d been too unstable when you were first freed. Maybe he’d gotten close to you in order to tame you. Aside from Shuri, you didn’t have a metric for how much was too close to someone. He could’ve been a regular level of attentive and you’d misconstrued it.

Eventually after a day and a half you decided that your pity party needed to end. Shuri had already rescheduled some plans for the two of you because you couldn’t get off your couch. You still had Shuri, and even though you would be moving away from her she was still in your corner and so were Sam and Steve. You decided that you truly meant what you’d said in the lab. You didn’t need Bucky’s approval. You wanted to take the next step to better yourself and if he didn’t like it that was on him. Shuri had been surprised to see you up and about the next morning after two days of being almost comatose, but there you stood. Fresh from the shower, hair pulled back and secured away from your face, zipping up the athletic jacket you’d decided would be comfortable to travel in.

Oh and travel you did.

You didn’t think you’d ever tire of staring at the ocean. Shuri had let you sit in the cockpit of the jet with Ayo while she flew. The sun hitting the water had been beautiful, but the sun setting over the vast ocean as you made your way to America had been magnificent. Overwhelming in the best way possible. Shuri teased you mercilessly as you gazed out over the water for hours on end. After touching down in LA, Shuri decided it might be fun to stay in a hotel to try and help you integrate with regular society. It had been absolutely terrifying. Your nerves constantly telling you everyone who walked near you was a potential threat. You’d clenched your fists so hard in an effort to calm yourself your nails had broken skin. Shuri had gotten you your own room so that you could work on being by yourself, and that first night you spent in America you’d dragged the couch in your room in front of the door in addition to locking and dead bolting it.

Shuri had teased you about that too after making sure you were ok sleeping on your own.

You’d spent most of the week working in the Outreach Center with Shuri. It was a very similar routine to what you’d already established in Wakanda. During the day you had spent your time helping out around the Center, moving heavy things or just being an extra set of hands for the team and their work there. The Wakandan Outreach Center’s main focus was making sure that people of colour in the surrounding areas could have a place to go and feel supported. Most of the work in the Center was community based. Making sure kids could afford school supplies and lunches or have the resources they needed to complete projects and explore the advanced technology Wakanda had to offer. Shuri’s personal focus was encouraging girls to pursue science. The Outreach Center offered multiple different scholarships geared towards encouraging minorities to pursue fields that for centuries had been unattainable. One of your favourite memories of the week had been watching Shuri sign a cheque for a young woman to go to medical school. She and her mother, who’d previously been working two jobs to support them, sobbed tears of joy and you’d been honoured to see such a special moment take place. You’d added their teary smiles to your journal the minute you’d had some spare time.

Your hours in the Outreach Centre had not only been a fantastic way to work your jet lag, but also to watch people. Having your growth accelerated meant that you’d skipped on a lot of your developmental stages, adolescence, puberty. Here, you could just sit and watch all different kinds of people walk through the doors with their own mannerisms, subconscious habits, body language, and facial expressions. You’d learned how to read the different looks people give each other, the furrowed brow of confusion and how it differed from an angry brow. Most of your people-studies had come from Shuri and Bucky, so you’d always felt comfortable understanding what they meant when they spoke to you. With new people you’d learned just how much tone and inflection changed the meaning of a phrase. It started with trying to pitch your voice up when you made dry jokes because the people here hadn’t gotten your sense of humour at first. Slouching in your seat because you found people were freaked out by your robotic posture. So many things you learned while watching coworkers, friends, and families interact in the Centre. As you studied humanity more and more you confirmed to yourself that coming to America had been what you needed. You never could’ve learned all this from within your lab.

In the evenings when Shuri was finished with her team, the two of you went out and explored the city. Los Angeles was so different to anything you’d experienced in Wakanda. The insane hustle and bustle of the streets seemingly never ended. You and Shuri had explored malls together, you tightly holding her hand while the two of you browsed American fashion. The two of you had an absolute blast and Shuri promised the next time she came to visit you’d go to a theme park together. You’d been a little too nervous to make the trek this trip and your nerves were usually shot by the end of the day. Shuri had taken you to several beautiful parks, and the two of you had even taken a day trip to the beach.

You’d been a little too nervous to actually go into the water, but you’d plopped yourself on the shore and let the waves lap at your toes for hours. Shuri thought it was hilarious that you were so easily entertained, but staring out at the endless sea and sky was soothing. It made you feel completely peaceful and when you’d gotten back to your hotel room you’d passed out almost immediately. The jet lag probably wasn’t helping but with how many hours a night you slept normally you wondered if it even mattered.

After closing the door to your hotel room you made your way down to the lobby to meet Shuri.

The plan was to go to the Outreach Centre, where Captain Rogers would be parked with the Quinjet in stealth mode. You and Shuri had wanted to keep your arrival in America quiet. No need to alert Ross to another super soldier on the compound if they didn’t need to right away. You had listened in on Shuri’s conference call with the Captain and Stark, and by their tone you could tell Stark got a sick satisfaction out of hiding something from Thaddeus Ross.

“Good morning Foxy!” Shuri called as you approached her and the concierge desk. “How did you sleep? Good? Great! We’ve got about an hour for breakfast before we head to the Centre.” She grinned, taking both your key cards and sliding them to the receptionist.

Holding out her bag, you carried your luggage together in one hand as Shuri took your other to guide on the familiar walk to the Outreach Centre. An hour for breakfast really meant fifty-five minutes of goofing off in the IHOP across the street before realising you had five minutes to be on the jet.

The two of you were seated in your favourite corner booth next to the window that let you watch all the busy people making their way through the city. Shuri chattered excitedly about her latest tech project for the Centre while you counter all the exits in the building (One to the patio, a fire exit by the bathroom, one back door through the kitchen and the main entrance by the hostess podium), despite knowing them by heart after a week of breakfasts here. Shuri had wanted to come here one morning after seeing an ad on the TV. She’d decided that she’d never been so she’d treat herself and drug you along for some chocolate chip pancakes. After that she’d gotten hooked on everything the franchise had to offer and you’d eaten more waffles than you cared to admit.

The IHOP staff, to their credit, were absolutely lovely everytime you came in. They’d quickly accepted that you would always want a corner table where you could view the door, no matter how empty the restaurant was. They’d gotten used to your strange accent, a combination of Russian and somehow African while you tried to order your food in the morning. After the first few raised brows, you’d immediately begun correcting your accent to whichever variation of English was being spoken to you. Your American accent was fairly advanced compared to the beginning of the week when you’d arrived, but some words were always spoken with a bit of East African wrapped around them. The staff had also gotten accustomed to you ordering at least two meals, occasionally a third if you were having a particularly active day.

This corner was a particularly advantageous spot because you could see every entrance to the building, not to mention you could watch the breeze change to show the arrival of a stealth craft in the parking lot across the street.

“-it’s really something special Snow, I can’t wait for you to see it! Hey, are you even listening to me?” Shuri asked, poking your knuckles with her coffee spoon and startling you out of your surveillance.

You jumped slightly, finally tearing your gaze away from the window.

“My apologies, Shuri. I think I am a little bit distracted this morning.” you answered sheepishly, heat blooming across your face.

Shuri just snickered.

“Don’t worry. I know better than to take offence. If you’re worried about travelling, don’t be. Steve’s actually a great pilot when he’s not sacrificing himself for the greater good. And Stark’s A.I isn’t half bad. You’ll get to New Jersey in no time. Plus once you’re there you’ll be begging to leave Jersey and come home to me so everything will work out.” Shuri joked. You laughed despite not quite understanding why “Jersey” would be somewhere you’d desperately want to leave.

“I guess… I am worried they will not like me. I threw Natasha into a wall, and she accepted my apology but the rest of the team does not know me at all. What if they hate me?” You whispered, fidgeting with the handle of your mug.

Shuri just smiled and reached out a hand, clasping your fingers between her own.

“Listen Snow Fox, it’s ok to be scared of things. You’ve been through so much change these last few months. It’s natural that you’re nervous, but I just want you to remember all that you’ve accomplished so far. You’ve improved your communication, your memory, even your fighting. You’re doing so well and growing so much. I’m very proud of you and even if they haven’t said it, I know the team is too.” You could hear the message behind her words; Bucky was proud of you.

It’s not that you didn’t want to believe her, but in the six days you’d been in America you hadn’t heard from any of the team personally aside from Steve. Shuri’s music device also had a communication link, so he’d messaged you briefly when you’d arrived in LA, happy that you’d gotten there safely. Aside from a few brief conversations about your room and if you had any food allergies, you’d barely heard from him.

Bucky however had not reached out since your fight.

“Thanks Shuri. It is nice to be reminded sometimes, of where I started and where I am now. I’m just nervous they won’t like me. I know I am… odd to say the least.” Shuri just laughed.

“Well who on their team isn’t? You’ve got two 100 year old super idiots, a former KGB spy, a guy who cosplays Robin Hood for a living, modern-day Icarus, and a billionaire funding all their crazy. Not to mention a witch and an android. I’m sure you’ll fit in just fine.” Shuri grinned. As you smiled back and squeezed her hand, your ears picked up a large change in the wind outside.

“Ah, I take it the Quinjet has arrived on top of the Centre. Alright let’s pay up and see you off then!” Shuri smiled, flagging down your server so she could settle the bill.

Much to your server’s chagrin, Shuri pressed a $100 note in his palm as a tip with a litany of gratitude towards him and the team for being so kind to the both of you this week. She then stuffed another five of them in the tip jar on your way out. When you were royalty, unlimited money was something fun to play with, you supposed.

As you made your way across the street, you clutched the straps of your duffle bag so hard your knuckles turned white.

‘You can do this. You can do this. Steve is very friendly. You are going to be fine.’ you chanted in your head over and over, as if the harder you thought about it the easier it would be to believe.

You forced a smile on your face and waved at the workers in the Center as you made your way up to the roof. Most of the Wakandans and volunteers were used to your strange behaviour so you hoped your expression looked cheerful. You dropped Shuri’s bag off at her office, adjusting your bags and checking their contents for the 3rd time that morning before making your way to the roof.

Before Shuri opened the door, you both put your sunglasses on and she grabbed your free hand.

“Ready?” she grinned.

You did your best to plaster a smile on your face and the reflection in her glasses was almost believable.

“Ready.” you nodded, before Shuri threw the door open.

Watching the Quinjet come out of stealth mode was a sight you didn’t think would ever get old. The wind whipped around you briefly as the ramp descended, and a casually dressed Steve Rogers came to greet you.

“Good morning Snow Fox!” he called, a grin across his face.

You could feel the tension draining out of your shoulders as he made his way over to greet you.

“Good morning Captain!” You chirped happily.

Steve just rolled his eyes.

“Y’know I said you can still call me Steve right? We’re friends. Friends don’t speak so formally.” he teased, heat blooming across your face.

“Yes.. I-I forget sometimes.” you stammered, wincing at how unsure you sounded.

Steve however did not let that deter him.

“Well that’s fine. We’ve got a whole flight for you to remember. Good morning Princess.” Steve said with a nod to Shuri.

Shuri just snorted in response.

“What are we not friends? I already call you Steve, you can call me Shuri.” she said as the two shook hands.

Steve just smiled.

“Well, the Quinjet is pretty fast. It shouldn’t take more than an hour or so for us to get to the compound. I can take your bag while you say goodbye if you’d like?” Steve offered, a hand extended.

You nodded and passed your duffle along to him before turning to face your best friend. You weren’t sure what to say but luckily Shuri always had something to say and beat you to it.

“Well, you have my contact in your device and kimoyo beads. You can call me at any time. I’ll be about nine hours ahead of you, but if you need me I’ll answer at any time you know that. If you hate it you can call me and I’ll come get you, no questions asked ok? And I know you haven’t been sleeping well and I’ve already notified Helen Cho, the compound's chief doctor so she can give you something if you can’t sleep. Remember to update me on your training! I want to know exactly how bad ass my best friend is getting!” Shuri rambled, her hands wringing nervously in front of her stomach.

You could feel tears beginning to pool in your eyes as you threw your arms around her. Shuri inhaled sharply before wrapping her arms around your torso as tightly as she could.

“Thank you for everything my friend.” you started in Xhosa, knowing how much it meant to Shuri that you’d tried to learn as much of her native tongue as possible. “I promise to call often. I’ll send you so many pictures and videos of my training you will tire of me I promise. I want you to know that I never would’ve gotten to this point if it wasn’t for you.”

“I’m well aware.” Shuri teased, her words thick with emotion.

“Well you deserve to hear it. You deserve to hear that you are the most amazing best friend anyone could ask for, and if there is anything that I am grateful for in my existence, it is that we had the chance to meet and become friends. You have shown me kindness that I will never be able to repay, and I promise that I will do everything in my power to share that with the world. You gave me purpose, my friend. I swear to make your efforts worthwhile.” you grinned, pulling away from her you both giggled at the tears in each others eyes.

“Call me as soon as you’re settled in your room! I’m assuming they have a tour or orientation planned for you. So call me as soon as you can!” Shuri grinned, swiping at the moisture under her eyes.

You let out a watery laugh as you nodded.

“I will. See you soon, friend.” you smiled.

With one final hug you made your way over to where Steve was watching the two of you from the ramp. A soft smile graced his face as you turned to wave a Shuri one last time before boarding the jet.

“So how has your week in LA been?” Steve asked, trying to make small talk as the two of you made your way over to the cockpit.

“It has been… very busy.” you admitted, as you took off your backpack and settled into the seat behind Steve’s right side.

“Well that’s good! Lots of new experiences I’d ima- what is that?” he asked, pointing a finger at your bag.

You flushed under his sudden attention.

“Um.. .Shuri suggested I get a backpack and thought this one was funny…” you trailed off in embarrassment.

Steve just threw his head back and laughed.

“That’s great! Sam is gonna be so jealous.” He grinned and you beamed back.

“I would imagine he’ll be quite scandalised that there was no Falcon merchandise in the store.” you quipped, causing Steve to laugh even harder as he re-engaged stealth mode and began the launch sequence.

“Oh don’t even start. He’s such a drama queen sometimes.” Steve said with a roll of his eyes.

You smiled as Steve launched into an anecdote about Sam wanting to create merchandise for ‘Red Wing’, his robot AI that helped them on missions. Slowly the nerves set in as you thought about the rest of the team.

“Steve?” you started, the man in question humming in acknowledgement.

“What is the rest of the team like? I’ve only met Sam, Natasha, Clint, and… Well what are the others like?” You asked, unable to ask Steve about the one member of the team you were truly curious about.

“Well, Wanda isn’t that far off from you in age. I think you’re biologically around the same. Vision… Vision actually reminds me a lot of you. He’s an android so while he’s very intelligent, we all know there are some “human” things that escape him sometimes. He’s very polite though and head over heels for Wanda. The two of them are actually very sweet together. Burce, our team's previous resident doctor, is actually off the grid right now. We haven’t seen or heard from him in about two years. I’m sure you’ve seen the files on the Hulk?” Steve turned to ask and you nodded.

“Right, well Bruce used to have a really hard time controlling him. After Ultron, he took off. We hope that he’s doing better and that he’ll return someday… but after that there’s Tony Stark, Iron Man.” you winced.

“Are you sure it’ll be ok with him for me to come live with you all?” you asked in a small voice.

Steve just shook his head.

“You don’t have to worry about Tony. I made sure he saw your progress reports with Shuri before you even left Wakanda. Tony is very critical, but he’s not as much of an asshole as he makes himself out to be. He knows that you were successfully deprogrammed by Shuri and that you’re making a lot of progress, but not as much as you’d like. If he does anything that makes you really uncomfortable, if anyone on the team does, I want you to know you can come tell me. Not just as your Captain, but as your friend. We’re all here for you Snow Fox.” Steve turned to smile warmly at you and you offered a small smile back.

“We’ve got about forty-five minutes before we touch down at the compound. Any other questions before we land?” Steve asked.

You just shook your head.

“No, I am alright. I am mostly just nervous. I… I just really want to make a good impression I guess.” you bit out, picking at the skin around your nails since Shuri had worked so painstakingly last night to paint them to perfection for your first day with the Avengers.

Steve just smiled and reached a hand behind himself to pat your knee.

“Look, I promise that everyone will be thrilled to meet you. Sam’s been compiling movies for us to watch, Nat and Wanda are just happy there’s going to be another girl around the compound, and Tony might be a hard ass but I know once he meets you he’s gonna love you.”

You took in a deep breath, rubbing your knee where you could still feel the warmth from Steve’s hand.

“And Bucky?” you asked nervously. You hadn’t had the courage to bring him up until now.

Steve inhaled sharply, taking a moment to consider his next words carefully.

“Bucky is… complicated. I know you guys had a fight before we left. He wouldn’t tell me what about, but he’s requested some solo missions to hunt down a few Hydra stragglers so he’s not actually home at the compound right now. Do you.. If you want I mean- do you wanna talk about it at all?” Steve asked, his hand coming up to awkwardly scratch at his neck.

You huffed and smiled to yourself.

“Not at all, but thank you for offering.”

“Look I know it isn’t my place, but he really does care. Bucky has always been a “Mother Hen” if you will, he’s always been a protector. He had me, and a baby sister back before the war, and I’m sure he told you all the trouble we got ourselves into back then. He’s always been the man to protect his family, even if he maybe says some dumb stuff sometimes. I don’t know the details of your fight and I won’t push it if it makes you uncomfortable, but I do know that Bucky cares about you more than I’ve seen him care about something in a long time and I hope that when he gets back the two of you can work things out.” Steve turned again, offering you a hesitant smile.

You did your best to return it as you looked out the window of the jet.

“So, what kind of music have you been listening to this week?” Steve asked lightly and you sighed, grateful for the change in subject.

Steve reached a cord over to you and you beamed, recognizing the correct input to connect to your music device. Steve caught your smile and beamed right back as you went through your recently played songs.

“Well, Shuri and I have been listening to a new artist this week, his name is Stevie Wonder.”

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eeveenicks · 9 months

Text

Having been a gifted kid growing up really wrecked my brain for adulthood. Like, I’m in a pretty good place for my age. I’m a professional with a full time job who can pay my bills and have some money leftover to enjoy my hobbies. Life is objectively good.

But when I was a kid I was like… a super genius and everyone told me how much potential I had. I used to get so bored in school so they’d give me more stuff to do to actually keep me some level of mentally stimulated. And that was great but it really makes you internalize some weird shit about the kind of adult you’re supposed to be.

When I was 8 I came up with this dumb plan to fill Antarctica with lightning rods attached to super thick cables that we would run under the ocean to connect them to the mainlands because I read in one of my textbooks that we were gonna run out of fossil fuels in fifty years and not have anymore electricity. And like… I thought my job should be single handed my solving the global energy crisis?

I was really good at science and thought I was supposed to become some kind of doctor/researcher and find the cure for cancer by myself because I had no idea how medical research or companies worked and thought all scientific discoveries were by some individual trying really hard and being smart and reading books and experimenting. I wanted to go to med school but then in college I was bad at math and then didn’t find out until I was in my thirties that I apparently have ADHD. Go figure.

At one point as a kid I was convinced I had to become President because otherwise I was a failure and not living up to my potential. And like…

What the fuck, tiny me?

It’s not like any adults in my life put weird pressure on me. I think all the comments about my potential and how smart I was just went to my head and my ego couldn’t deal with the idea of not living up to all that.

But the shitty thing is that all that is still in my head. I’m not president or even a measly congressperson. Failure. I haven’t found the cure for cancer. Failure. I haven’t single-handedly negotiated a successful solution to the conflict in Israel and Palestine like my 9 year old self decided I was supposed to do for some reason??? What was I smoking???

Like, law school was kind of terrifying because it was a real reckoning with mortality in the sense of “oh shit, I chose a path. I did this. All the other doors are closed to me” when the thing that had defined so much of my view of myself growing up was this idea that I could be “anything.”

And I hate that I’m not.

I’m thirty-something and tired and hate the days I have to work more than eight hours (except that I also love them because there’s something mentally gratifying about knowing that I have an excuse to be tired). I volunteer for too many community service things and go to the gym and cook and go out of my way to learn skills like house to paint houses and build shelves and shit. And I write fucking novels that I don’t publish because they aren’t good enough for the standard I set for them in my mind. And I’m always studying some language trying to learn more and just…

I don’t know. Those things were all just this summer. And it still feels like I didn’t do enough

I need the constant stimulation, but it’s never enough and I think I really just need to accept at some point that it will never be enough. The books I write will never be good enough for me because they will always read like I wrote them. I could probably be a goddamned CEO and I would feel like I hadn’t worked hard enough or advanced far enough in my career.

I might just be going a little crazy and restless right now because I fucked up my ankle a few weeks ago and my normal stress relief is going for walks and I literally can’t without risking damaging it more.

I think I just wanted to rant about how I’ll never cure cancer in my secret presidential science lab at the White House and how my own existential dread about the ever-dawning realizations of human mortality are fucking with me.

It’s like… fuck. Time just keeps going faster as I get older. I’m gonna die at some point. More than a third of life expectancy is behind me. 2013 doesn’t feel like 10 years ago and if the next decade goes faster and the one after that and the one after that—

I don’t want to be content. I want to squeeze in as much life as possible before I go back to being earth. Because at the end of the day I’m a weird little piece of the universe that woke up to observe itself for what accounts for probably a nanosecond in the scope of deep time and I just wanna like… wanna get all I can put of that nanosecond.

#i really need to sleep #3am things #eevee thoughts #rant

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wankusbonkus-gt · 2 years

Text

Look Before You Drink

Summary: ‘Fate and Graves arrive home with sacks full of stolen black market tech and two mysterious potion vials. They really should know better than to drink them.’

Content: Shrinking, Comedy, Fluff, Farting, Burping

A/N: This is a commission for Symbiotez18. This is my first time writing for the LoL fandom and for these characters, so if I get any characterisation or world building wrong, that is why. I won’t be posting for this fandom unless I get another commission for it, as I’m not interested in it personally. (link to AO3 version)

‘What did I tell you, Graves!’ Fate exclaims, waltzing into their ramshackle apartment. Temporary ramshackle apartment, because after this stunt, they may have enough to get a better place. ‘What did I tell you!’ He’s practically bouncing as he unloads his heavy, tech-filled sack onto the table. It wobbles on weak legs for a moment, then settles.

Graves just grumbles behind him, nursing his shoulder. He’d been shot by one of the guards on their way out, while attempting to pull Fate out of the way. Fate eyes the injury as it bleeds sluggishly, like a jam doughnut being squeezed of its insides. It’s … not concerning, but he still feels the need to fuss.

Graves goes to sit down at their small, rickety table while Fate rifles through the medicine cabinet under their sink. He plucks out a health potion and gives it to his partner, who downs it quickly, chatting all the while.

‘I mean, I know the tech lab was heavily guarded and you almost lost an arm, but what did I tell you! I told you we’d be good at this, just like old times.’

Graves observes him with dark eyes. ‘Not exactly like old times,’ the man muses, lips tilting up. Fate gives into temptation, leans down and kisses him. He doesn’t surface for a few good minutes.

‘No, I suppose not,’ he admits when they part. Graves yawns around a fist. ‘Do you want to go to bed, old man?’ Not waiting for an answer, he pulls Graves up and moves them towards the bed on the other side of the small room. The whole place is small, and plain, and overall rather unappealing. It’s an offence to his good taste. He just thanks every god there is that there’s a separate room for the bath and toilet.

He strips them quickly, both to their underwear, before finding two small potion vials in one of Graves’ pant pockets. ‘What’s this?’ Fate asks, looking them over. One’s red and the other’s green, shining and shimmering within their glass containers. There’s no labelling.

‘I swiped them before we left,’ Graves says. ‘Thought if they could go without their fancy tech, they could go without their fancy potions too.’

‘What do they do?’

‘I’m not sure.’

‘You’re not sure? And you want us to drink them?’

Graves just shrugs, his shoulder muscles shifting attractively. If Fate weren’t dead on his feet from a day of thieving, he’d be all over that.

Graves takes the red one from him and uncorks it. Sighing defeatedly, Fate does the same to the green. It releases a poof of sparkly, sweet-smelling air. He figures there are worse mysterious potions to ingest. And why would they keep harmful potions so out in the open? It’s going to be fine.

‘Well, it doesn’t taste like poison,’ he says after swallowing it down. It actually tastes kind of like apple pie, like something you might expect from someone with a normal childhood.

Graves yawns again, and Fate does as well. Maybe they’re sleeping potions? Shrugging, they both climb under the covers, fitting themselves against the other. Fate’s head on Graves’ shoulder, his leg over the man’s hip, and an arm settled over his chest. He’d be more embarrassed about his clinginess if he didn’t know how much Graves enjoys it.

‘Night,’ his partner sighs into his hair. But before Fare can respond, his mind is fading to black.

Fate wakes up feeling disoriented. Must’ve been that potion … he sits up groggily and takes in his surroundings.

He blinks. Closes his eyes. Opens them again.

Everything is massive. His small two-room apartment looks fucking massive now, more like a three-storey mansion than a hovel. He’s still reeling from the sudden shift in perspective when he hears a loud snore from his right.

Graves!

He turns to find his partner a giant, large, hulking body splayed out over the bed, which is more like a landing pad at this size. Fate doesn’t allow himself to freak out, instead standing up on his pillow and making the trek over to the sleeping man. If he can wake Graves up, maybe they can figure out a way to reverse this fucking thing.

The journey is relatively easy. No more difficult than running through Bilgewater with a group of hired mercenaries hunting you down. Tripping over massive wrinkles in the bedsheets is probably his biggest obstacle. Well, that is, until he has to climb up Graves’ body to reach him.

He wanders over to his large hand and steps onto his palm, which is almost like a verge tall step, then walks along his muscled, hairy arms up to his shoulders. Thankfully, the man sleeps shirtless, so he doesn’t have to negotiate his way through a nightshirt. He climbs up Graves' beard, using the hair as leverage to pull himself up.

He catches a whiff of the man’s morning breath as he stops in front of the half-opened mouth.

‘Graves!’ He yells, but the man doesn’t react. He goes to yell again, but the large mouth widens like the entrance to a cave and a loud, pungent burp sends Fate into the air. He’s sent over the man’s body, right down between his large thighs. He lays there for a moment, on top of the covers, surrounded by skin. The memory of being flung into the air because Graves passed gas will haunt him forever.

Sitting up, Fate resolves to try again, but is suddenly assaulted by another wave of gas, this time originating from Graves’ ass. The loud, smelly air sends him flying again, right down the end of the bed. He manages to grab onto the duvet before he plummets off the side and turns into roadkill.

‘GRAVES!’ he screams, his lungs working overtime. ‘WAKE UP, YOU FUCKING OVERSIZED GAS CHAMBER!’

There’s movement on the bed, and then his partner sits up. Fate sees his sleepy, confused eyes scan the room.

‘DOWN HERE, ASSHOLE!’ Graves catches sight of him.

‘Fate? What the fucking are you doing so small?’

He’s picked up by the man’s hand, before being dropped onto a palm.

‘It was the stupid potion you gave me! It must’ve turned me small.’

‘Oh, you mean this?’ Graves waggles the nearly empty vial in front of him teasingly. There’s still a few glowing, green drops of the stuff left. ‘Should I try it too? Looks kind of fun.’

‘No, you idiot! Just–FIX THIS!’

Graves smirks down at him. The fuckhead still looks devastatingly attractive. Maybe even more so now, since the man’s height makes him all Fate can see. ‘Hmm … I don’t know, Fate. What if I just …’

He dangles the vial over his mouth, letting the sliver of potion left inside hang on the rim. He waggles the glass. Before Fate can shout, it drips into Graves' open mouth.

Immediately, Graves begins to shrink. The palm Fate is standing in grows smaller and smaller until he falls back onto the bedding. When he sits up again, Graves is the same size as him, not counting their pre-existing height difference.

Fate glares at Graves hard enough that he could probably make a hole right through the man’s head. Not as if there’d be anything inside to hinder him.

‘What the fuck did you do?!’ He screams.

‘I don’t know!’ Graves screams back.

They spend the rest of the morning like that, shrunken and screaming at one another in angry confusion. How they get big again, well, that’s another story.

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