#saying that it really did happen bc it's one failed attempt at writing return was already cool but | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cdroloisms · 3 years

Text

uhhhh ,, , hi ??

i feel bad bc i havent been here in. LITERALLY forever lmao - hope you guys r all doing good!! ive been working on some stuff but it’s been pretty slow going, and school is also A Thing, so i definitely havent been writing as much as i’d like.

as an apology, have this? really self-indulgent feel-good syndicate + c!dream centric oneshot bc i felt like writing this so u know. why not.

tws: implied torture, abuse, self-harm, disordered eating, starvation mentions, prison arc themes - overall everything’s just blink-and-you’ll-miss-it mentions, not too much angst here for once! c!sam and c!quackity critical, sorry guys but we r still in the prison arc and they still r on their “fuck human rights” arcs.

Dream leaves.

It’s a surprise - or maybe it isn’t one, Niki isn’t quite sure. She’d never grown to quite trust the man, she knows, and she can’t really tell if the bitter twist of emotion that swells up her chest when Phil comes to her city with the news is betrayal or resignation - what can she say. She’s gotten more than her fair share of broken promises. They don’t exactly faze her anymore.

None of them seem all that surprised, save Techno, who entirely fails to hide the worry that flickers over his face when he calls the Syndicate meeting to officially inform them of what’s going on. She shares quick, careful glances with the other members when his back is turned - despite how many times he’s been burned, Techno still seems so adamant at holding onto every thread, trusting all too easily those who would use and leave him behind without a second glance. He can handle himself, she knows. Still, that’s not going to stop her from slapping Dream upside the head for being yet another worthless person to betray her friend’s forgiving nature.

Nothing much changes in the next few weeks. Niki has to admit, it’s strange without Dream around - he’d not been an ally, much less a friend before dipping completely, but he had been some sort of constant - and Niki is self aware enough to know that she misses him, a little, the same sort of way you might miss an old routine once it’s gone, if only for the familiarity. She still visits Techno and Phil with various baked goods, knowing that Phil would have his hands full just keeping Techno from running himself ragged - makes sure to check on Ranboo, whose nerves have inevitably returned with Dream’s disappearance. To be honest, she doesn’t worry as much as he does - ally or not, she’s spent enough time with the Dream that had left prison to expect that he won’t exactly be able to get himself very far should he come for the four of them, and doesn’t particularly care about he might pull with the rest of the server - if things get bad, she’s sure Phil and Techno will have it handled. She asks Phil, once, what happened, and he shrugs.

“I don’t know, mate,” he heaves a chest to the side, pulling out a stack of stone blocks that Niki gladly holds for him. “One day we woke up and he was just- gone. Everything. Was like he wasn’t ever there at all.”

Niki hums. “Why’d you think he’d do something like that?”

“If I could understand half of why Dream does what he does, we wouldn’t be having this conversation now, would we?” He smiles at her from behind a crate. “Shall we bring these things upstairs and start on dinner?”

Niki laughs, knowing that the conversation about Dream is over. “Of course, Phil.”

Dinner is a welcome distraction; all of them have gotten better at cooking in recent months, between her baking and the veritable library of recipes Phil knows that she’s never even heard of, but Phil is still the only one she really trusts to hold his own behind the stove - Ranboo is still a little too nervous around water, and fire, and much of everything, and though Techno can be a perfectly capable cook, he’s been distracted as of late. She has a strong feeling that left to his own devices, he’d just grab a stack of steak and disappear for another few weeks, searching the server for information.

Honestly, she’s a little thrown off by his behavior - he’d not done anything like this with Tommy, if she remembers right, and had hardly seemed affected by Wilbur’s betrayal on the Sixteenth at all (then again, she was a little too lost in her own head to notice if he was.) She tosses her head over to ask Phil, who’s leaning over a few carrots he’s slicing to throw into the stew he’s making, and the man pauses, frowns.

“From what I know,” he starts, words slow, careful, “they’d spent three months in there together, and the conditions weren’t exactly- stellar. According to what Techno said, I’d assumed they had come to some sort of understanding.” He goes back to the carrots, expression dipping into shadow and out of sight. “Guess I was wrong.”

Niki hums. She can see it, sort of - spending months together with someone, no matter how insufferable, probably would end with some degree of attachment - she thinks back to plotting through sleepless nights with Jack, anger and grief leaving them simmering, crabs in the same pot of boiling water, remembers looking into his dead-eyed gaze and seeing her own stare back - and feels a brief pang of guilt. Besides, Techno is Techno. She’d never met someone so willing to forgive, understand, reach out despite everything that’s happened - for Dream to take advantage of that feels almost too obvious. Of course he would - what were they all thinking?

“He’s Dream,” she says as if that explains everything, flipping open the oven door and feeling a wave of heat blast her face. Phil hums lowly, understanding. “I hope Techno will be alright.”

“He’s tough,” Phil cracks a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “And he has us on his side. He’ll get through.”

Niki opens her mouth to reply, only to be interrupted by the front door slamming open. Outside their quaint little cottage, the wind howls - it sounds like the beginning of a blizzard out there, flurries painting the world in a thick blanket of white. In the door, Techno strides into the entrance with loud, decisive movements, shutting the door loud enough to make the walls shake. Inadvertently, Niki finds her eyes drawn to the small pile of snow that he’s tracked into the house - Techno’s usually so careful to kick it all off on the porch, never liked it much when there was a pile of melting ice and snow dampening the floorboards and soaking into his shoes. He huffs harshly, stripping off a snow-dusted scarf from his face - a long, multicolored abomination that had been the product of her attempting to teach Ranboo how to knit. Phil has reached his side, hands splayed over his upper arms, eyes soft in the corners from concern.

“Techno, mate-” his tone is chiding but his movements gentle as he brushes snow off of Techno’s signature cloak, “you’ve gotten snow everywhere. What were you doing, dueling a blizzard?”

Techno shakes his head, not meeting Phil’s banter as usual, fur sticking up from the snow melted into it. His voice is gruff and holds little humor - unconsciously, Niki feels her shoulders tense.

“Phil, call a Syndicate meeting.”

---

Phil, per usual, is unrelenting, so it’s not until a quick dinner and some hurried messages to their final member later that the Syndicate is gathered in their meeting room, Techno pacing the length of the room as they wait in their respective seats. He looks less frazzled than he did when he first entered the house, in part due to Phil’s sitting him down to eat and picking through his fur to smooth it out of its windblown spikes and tangles - Techno had grumbled at him to stop preening him, but looked a lot more relaxed by the time they were all finished with their food. Still, his ear flicks periodically, twitching toward ssome sound that Niki can’t hear, movements tighter and jerkier than she is used to. He’d always been a little flightier after the prison, but not quite like this - everything here feels like that but dialed up to eleven. Inexplicably, it reminds her of Dream.

“Techno?” Phil gestures towards his seat, prompting, and he settles into it with an obliging huff.

“Y’know, Phil, the code names are kinda pointless if we never use ‘em,” he says, words carrying no real heat - he looks back at the rest of them, lips thinning into a line. “Anyway. I called this meeting because I found a couple leads on Dream.”

“O-oh,” Ranboo stutters, tail lashing behind him.

“You don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to, mate,” Phil reminds him gently, a sentiment that Niki affirms with a determined nod.

“There’ve been some reports- rumors, really,” Techno says, calling their attention again, and they all turn towards him, “of increased activity around the prison again. The Warden spending more time on its grounds, movement seen around the walls and around the portal- so I decided to go check it out for myself.”

Niki frowns, and watches as Phil does the same beside her - Techno had seemed to avoid the prison if he could help it, save for when he went on the initial mission to break Dream out. It was no secret to them that he didn’t exactly like the place.

“We could’ve helped if you asked,” Phil reminds him, and Techno shakes his head.

“I know, Phil. It’s just- that place is bad news. I’d rather keep you guys away from there if I can-” his hand goes to his head with a poorly hidden wince. “Sorry, Chat’s a little- worked up, at the minute.”

“Sorry, we’ll stop interrupting you,” Niki says, cutting off Phil before he says anything else. “So you went to the prison?”

Techno takes a second to gather his thoughts, mumbling quietly in the way that usually means he’s telling off Chat. “Right- I decided to stake out the portal. The rumors were right- Sam has been hanging around there, entered and left the prison four times yesterday. And today-” he hesitates, expression visibly darkening. “This morning, about an hour after the Warden arrived, Quackity came to the prison and went through the portal. He left the grounds about six hours later.”

“Quackity?” Niki frowns, eyes flicking over to how Phil has stilled in his seat. “What is Quackity doing at the prison?”

Phil ignores her question, reaching towards Techno, something indiscernible in his gaze. “Mate…”

“He smelled of blood when he left,” Techno says, words sharp, and Niki feels her heart skip a beat. “Warden left about half an hour after, and I came back here.”

Ranboo clears his throat, sounding tentative. “Okay,” he drums his hand on the table when they turn towards him, eyebrows drawn, “but what, exactly, does this have to do with, uh, Dream?”

Techno and Phil trade glances, one of their bouts of unspoken conversation that Niki’s grown extremely used to. They seem strangely hesitant, she notes internally, Phil looking towards Techno with a question written clearly in the planes of his face. Techno sighs, a long puff of air through his lips as he closes his eyes and turns his face towards the table.

“You know how Dream was- injured,” he starts slowly, looking back up at them. Niki shifts uncomfortably - of course she noticed, it was impossible not to - if not the bandages that peeked under his sleeves and the cuffs of his pants, then how skinny he’d been, all skin and bones curled up uncomfortably in a pile at the corner of Techno’s couch. She’d not know the extent, by any means, and had always assumed that they’d been self-inflicted - she’d been in a bad enough place on her own before to know how your head can make you want to hurt, sometimes, how eating food can feel like choking on sawdust and the world could feel so much smaller when focused into delicate pricks of pain. Phil’s eyes are trained on Techno - on his face, then on the pinkish raised skin of a still-healing scar along his forearm, and she feels understanding settle like a rock in her gut.

“The Warden had apparently been lettin’ Quackity into the cell to torture Dream for the revive book,” Techno trails off, eyes narrowed and seemingly fixed on a random point of the opposite wall. “By the time I go there, it’d been goin’ on for months.”

“But wait,” Ranboo’s tail moves even more erratically behind him, “You mean you think he’s back- there? How?”

“He has to be back in the prison,” Techno points out. “I can’t imagine anyone besides him that the two of them are goin’ to just start torturin’- Sam had been iffy about the whole thing when Quackity started in on me. It has to be Dream in there again.”

“But how did he get in there, then?” Ranboo asks, visibly confused. “Last time it took the entire server to lock him up!”

“There were no signs of a struggle,” Niki points out, matter of fact. “I believe you, Techno, but I don’t really know how they managed to drag him back so easily. I can’t imagine he was jumping at the chance to go back in there.”

Techno shakes his head with an uneasy sigh.

“I have a feelin’ of what might’ve happened,” he says quietly. “And I really hope that I’m wrong and he’s less of an idiot than I think he is.”

---

They set out to investigate - and maybe attack - the next day, Techno and Phil taking on the bulk of preparations as Ranboo stays behind. He’d been understandably uneasy about the whole mission, so they’d left him back by the Syndicate room to set off their pearls in case anything went wrong. (“By the end of the day,” Techno had said, giving Phil a look with the corner of his lip quirked upwards, “don’t be like Phil here and think I meant the end of the month, alright?”) They’d all be supplied with armor and weapons, thanks to Phil, but she’d been handed the bulk of their potions, arranged neatly in her inventory by type in case they’d be needed. She lingers in the back of the room as Phil and Techno chat amiably over the sound of making last minute repairs on their armor, listens to Techno’s ceaseless reminders for Phil to be careful, watches as they make sure that their stasis chambers are properly prepared should they need them.

(She watches as Phil nudges Techno’s shoulder when he lingers behind a certain chair, empty as long as she’s been part of the Syndicate, the fountain behind it bubbling quietly without a pearl inside. Techno sighs, expression strange.

“Should’ve set him up with one,” he says, quiet, and Phil pats him on the back.

“You couldn’t have known, mate. We wanted to wait a little before telling him about the Syndicate, remember?”

Techno hums, noncommittal. “Still.”)

They Nether travel to the site of Techno’s lookout, which ends up being a little shambling thing with dirt walls dug into a small hill looking towards the prison portal, having hardly enough space to fit the three of them. Phil looks at it with no small amount of apprehension, and Techno shrugs lightly, wearing an expression that makes Phil turn to him with a look that makes Niki break into giggles. Techno crosses his arms- “in my defense-” and Phil looks up at the dirt ceiling with a long-suffering sigh.

“You couldn’t have made this a little roomier, mate?” Phil asks, voice dry as kindling, and Techno raises his hands by his head.

“Hey hey, it’s discreet, it gets the job done, it’s perfectly structurally sound-” the sound of the leftmost wall crumbling, along with the cloud of dust that puffs from it and fills their tiny space, undermines the tail end of his statement and leaves him sputtering, Niki falling into another fit of quiet giggles. Underneath it all, Phil sighs again, raising his wings behind him.

“...these are going to take so long to clean out.”

To his credit, Techno looks sheepish. “Sorry, Phil.”

They sober up quickly; Techno turns around to the opposite side of the hill, where he’s hidden some peepholes inside the dirt - Niki settles herself by one, leaning forwards to put her eye to it and catch a glimpse of the prison looming over the water. It’s been repaired since the breakout, she notes, the gaping hole in the roof completely gone and replaced with obsidian, as intimidating and undamaged as it had been before, if not more so. Phil makes a considering sound from behind her.

“Same plan as last time?” He asks, and Techno shakes his head.

“They’ve probably reinforced it, and Dream’s blueprints won’t include anything new the Warden’s added. I wouldn’t be surprised if they moved Dream to a different location completely. We don’t want to draw too much attention, either, we were cutting it pretty close during the breakout.” He narrows his eyes. “I was thinking we’d try something a little stealthier, this time. “

He gestures at Niki, who blinks back at him with wide eyes.

“You got a couple of invis potions for us?”

She distributes the potions among them all, one regular and two splash potions of invisibility each, and Techno points towards the prison once she’s done.

“The most important thing is to get through the portal,” he says with a grim expression. “Worst comes to worst, once we’re inside we can always blast our way through - but gettin’ through that portal is our first priority.”

Phil narrows his eyes at him. “The portal is locked, though. We’ll need to follow someone else inside- and I’m pretty sure Sam uses pearls, so he’s out.”

Techno nods. “Which is why I’m bankin’ on the prison gettin’ another visitor today. We’ll just have to wait.”

Niki swallows. “Do you mean-”

“Quackity?” Techno turns away, not quite meeting her eyes. “I’m not totally sure, but he’s not exactly the type to just give up on his goals. He’s pretty predictable- an empire needs an emperor, always needs something new to rule- you know the type,” he says, tipping his head towards Phil. “He’ll be mad at Dream for disappearin’ on him and won’t miss the opportunity to prove he has the upper hand again. I’m not sure that he’s going to come today-”

“-but you wouldn’t really be surprised, either,” Phil finishes for him, eyes steely with cold determination. “I trust your judgement, mate. Just stay safe- from what I’ve heard, Quackity has been...erratic.”

“When is he not,” Techno huffs a short laugh, shaking his head. “I’ll be fine, Phil. Just be careful, both of you. Don’t get too close. And if things get messy- which is what we’re tryin’ to avoid, by the way- then don’t do anything too risky. Our priority is gettin’ in and out alive.”

“We can handle ourselves, Techno,” Niki reminds him with a small smile. “And Ranboo is there in case anything goes wrong.”

“Alright, then. Here’s the plan.”

---

It takes quite a long time for Quackity to arrive, long minutes that Niki spends fidgeting in the corner of the room, brushing her hands over seams of the netherite plates that Phil had shoved into her hands, back at the Syndicate room. The set is inexplicably light - not weightless, by any means, as it is still netherite, but not nearly as bulky as any set of netherite armor she’s owned or seen in the past. The runes are precise, lines thin and exact, written with graceful strokes of lapis.

“Phil’s the best metalworker I’ve ever met,” Techno tells her with a small grin, catching her in the middle of tracing what she can make out as an Unbreaking rune along the metal strapped to her forearm. “But then again, he’s had the time to practice.”

“Are you calling me old again?” Phil huffs, and Techno flashes a smile her direction before looking at Phil with a slight grin.

“Well, Chat is,” he says, lips twitching when Phil glares back.

“You can’t just blame Chat every time you insult me, you little shit,” Phil groans, and Techno only grins wider.

“Phil, my ad revenue,” he complains, a dramatic lilt to his voice that has Niki stifling a snort, and Phil’s glare only grows deadlier.

“You’ll have more than your ad revenue to worry about if you keep this up,” he mumbles, going back to keep watch at one of the peepholes and stilling as he does. “Shit- Techno, Quackity’s here.”

Techno straightens up, hindered slightly by the low ceiling of their room. “Alright- we all know the plan, right?”

Niki nods in the affirmative, pulling out a splash invis and letting it settle in her hand, the glass cool beneath her fingertips. She reaches into her inventory and lets her armor fade into it, takes a deep breath and watches as the two across from her do the same. She doesn’t wear armor often, but so close to the prison, feeling mining fatigue settling deep into her bones - she’s never missed the security it offers more. Techno keeps watch, waiting- drops his arm in a signal. Now.

Niki throws the potion at their feet, flinching back at the sound of shattering glass and feeling its effects seep into her skin. When she opens her eyes, she can’t see anything but the inside of the room that they’d holed themselves in and the faintest of wisps rising from where their feet must be, curling around the grass.

(Please let this work, she begs to no one in particular as they walk towards the prison. And if you can hear me- please keep us all safe.)

She hardly breathes as they follow Quackity across the path, holding someone’s hand in her own - Phil’s, by the feel of it - careful to muffle her footsteps in the grass and stand still whenever Quackity’s eyes come a little too close. Thankfully for them, he seems focused, hardly stopping or looking around at all as he walks towards the prison’s portal, movements stiff as he walks forward. He punches the button on the wall particularly harshly, and Sam’s voice comes crackling through a speaker a second later.

“I’m here for my visit,” Quackity says, punctuating the sentence with a snort of laughter that doesn’t sound particularly sincere. Niki hasn’t seen him in a long while, not after everything that happened in Pogtopia, and she feels a chill worm down her spine - this man looks nothing like the one that had laughed and danced and sung at her birthday party what feels like an eternity ago. What happened?

Sam sighs, the sound turning into a sharp burst of static through the speakers. “Hello Quackity,” he says, voice deep and tired. “Please step into the portal after I tell you to and then wait on the other side.”

“I know the drill, Sam,” Quackity rolls his eyes. “Just because the bastard was gone for a few weeks doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten how this damn place works.”

“Just going through protocol, Quackity,” Sam replies, and something about this response has Quackity exploding into a brief fit of laughter, the sound grating against Niki’s ears. She feels her grip tighten on Phil’s hand, air caught in her throat.

“Protocol- ha. Whatever you wanna tell yourself, pal.” Quackity smiles, cold and cruel, and Niki tries not to think about how she’d seen that same grin on Wilbur, eyes sparkling from the light of the lanterns hung from the bridges and walls of their ravine, remember how she’d looked into them and realized her old friend wasn’t there, anymore. Quackity disappears into the portal, and after a second, the hand around her own pulls her inside of it too.

On the other side, Quackity taps his foot impatiently, crossing his arms and waiting- Sam’s voice comes through the speakers again, words clipped.

“Go through the portal,” he says, and Quackity does- once again, they wait for a second for his body to disappear, then go within it themselves, pressed close enough together within its frame for Niki to feel the warmth of a wing wrap around her shoulders for a quick second before they’re out of the hot, stifling air of the Nether and into a large, neatly made lobby of blackstone and quartz. They duck into a corner, watching as Quackity moves towards the front counter, the Warden waiting there with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks- tired. His movements are slow, footsteps loud against the floor, shoulders tense and back hunched. He walks around the counter, sword strapped to his belt, and Niki feels her breath hitch at the sight of dried blood still stuck to the blade in patches and splatters.

“He ready?” Quackity asks, holding his hands out - Niki catches a flash of metal as Sam drops something into them, watches as Quackity raises what ends up being a pair of shears, dangerous-looking and gleaming with enchants, to the light.

“Yes,” Sam says, side-eyeing Quackity with a small glare. “You know, it’s supposed to be your job to clean those things off when you’re done with them.”

“I told you, busy day back in Las Nevadas yesterday,” Quackity waves a hand- “I’ll do it, alright? Don’t get all pissy now. What happened to being partners?”

“You said we’d be done with this months ago, Quackity,” Sam sighs, and Niki feels a light tug on her arm as Quackity and Sam begin to walk towards the wall to the right of them, breathes in slow and deep as she follows Techno and Phil towards the others. The wall yawns open with the hiss of redstone firing and pistons pulling blocks upwards, opening into a dark hallway that feels like entering the maw of some sort of giant, insatiable beast. They step inside as one, and the door shuts behind them.

“We’ll be done soon enough,” Quackity says, and Niki feels hairs rising on the back of her neck. “Trust me.”

They stalk forwards through a labyrinth of blackstone, Niki brushing the palms of her hand against her clothes when it goes clammy from adrenaline. Halfway through, she pauses to tip back a second potion of invisibility, careful to keep her movements slow and steady as not to make a sound - the liquid is silvery, cool and light on her tongue, and she lets the effects wash over her with her breath caught in her lungs before moving forward. The tunnels are simpler than she’d expected, bearing little obstacles or checkpoints - Quackity makes a wry comment a second after (“Guard tunnels today, huh? Appreciate the hustle, pal-”) that confirms her suspicions. Despite the potion particles still whirling around their bodies and the sounds of their footsteps, too loud in her own ears, they manage to make it forwards without much trouble, entering a large room with a doorway filled completely with a curtain of lava.

“Set your spawn,” Sam says, still stoic, and Quackity rolls his eyes again before doing as told. Niki keeps looking back at the lava flowing past the wall, its heat filling the room and making her already slick palms even worse, and Sam moves to the side to flick a lever, eyes trained on the lava slowly bubbling in front of him.

“Give me your tools?” Quackity asks, and Sam sighs before doing so - Niki watches as he hands over a netherite axe, then potions, then a few raw potatoes that Quackity accepts and puts into his inventory. Sam raises an eyebrow once he’s done, hand tight around the handle of his trident.

“You bring your own sword, today?” He asks, seeming irritated, and Quackity shrugs.

“Sorry pal, I need to make a new one. Guess I’m borrowing yours again.”

Sam sighs again, louder, and hands over his sword as well, watching as Quackity swings it a few times experimentally. The blade skims a little too close to her on one swing and she can’t quite help the squeak that escapes her lips as she throws herself out of the way, feels her heart hammer in her ears as she backs up against the wall. Please don’t hear that please don’t hear that please don’t hear that please don’t hear that-

“Quackity, wait.” Sam raises a hand, ear twitching as he looks over in her direction with narrowed eyes. “I think I heard something.”

Oh fuck.

“Well, guess show’s up then,” Techno drawls, and both of them whirl towards his voice, giving Niki enough time to pull her armor back on, scrambling to get her sword and shield in her hands as Phil does the same besides her. Pieces of armor appear where Techno is standing, then a bucket of milk- oh, why must her friends be so dramatic- and Techno’s standing there, smiling sharply, with Orphan Obliterator held loosely at his side. “Let’s get this done, then.”

As one, Techno and Phil blur into action - Techno moves forward to catch the prongs of Sam’s trident on his blade as Phil parries Quackity’s blows with his own sword- they move fluidly, easily covering each other’s backs as the room devolves into chaos. Niki remembers their guidance as she flits in and out of the fight, scoring quick hits to keep the Warden and Quackity off balance while remaining out of range from their weapons, and it’s not long before both of them have fallen with a spray of items and experience orbs scattered all over the floor.

Techno moves over to block off the exposed face of the bed with a block, looking over at the two of them with an uncharacteristically severe expression. “They’ll be back soon- we have to move fast. Niki, you have those fire res, right?”

She nods as she reaches into her inventory, finding the potion’s orange-pink glow and smashing it at their feet. They dive into the lava together, Niki scrambling to keep up, her arms struggling to move through the thick lava, loses sight of both until she flails into something directly in front of her and hands are pulling her up out of the lava.

“There you go, mate,” Phil smiles down at her as hauls herself to her feet, making a face at the feeling of the lava clinging to her clothes. “Yeah, swimming through lava isn’t exactly fun. You good?” She flashes him a thumbs up, and he laughs- “Niki, you’re still invisible.” She flushes pink- right.

A few sips of milk later, she gives him a proper thumbs up, and he laughs, loud and bright. She looks past him to where Techno’s crouched over something- someone, she realizes with a start, in the corner. Dream’s back in prison clothes, ragged and ill-fitting, and he’s curled up with his back towards the front of the cell, shaking enough to be obvious even from where she’s standing. Techno speaks lowly, voice barely more than a deep rumble in the air, almost inaudible.

“You there, Dream?”

She watches as Dream turns his head, looking up with wide, bleary eyes. His hair flops in front of his face, and something within her itches to brush it out of the way. “T-Techno?”

“Yeah nerd, who else?” Techno smiles, and Dream seems to blink awake, drawing himself up with a shuddery breath.

“Techno- it’s a trap- what are you doing here?” he hisses, and Techno gives him a look, deadpan.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s a trap- come on, Dream, we’ve been over this by now, bro. You have to know that their traps aren’t goin’ to do anything to me by now,” Techno rolls his eyes, reaching forward to steady his hands on Dream’s shoulders when the other man sputters and struggles to breathe. “Easy, now. Geez, you wanted to prove me wrong about being homeless bad enough that you came back here? We could’ve just made you a house, you know. You didn’t have to go this far.”

“I- they were gonna kill you,” Dream breathes, face twisted up uncomfortably, and his eyes flick past Techno’s face to where Phil and Niki are standing at the opposite wall of the cell. “All of you- they said-”

“And that’s what I thought you’d say,” Techno groans. “Come on, you idiot, I thought you were smarter than this-”

“They were right there, Techno!” Dream fires back, eyes alight. “You- they were right there, what were you thinking, they could’ve-!”

“And my best friend is a necromancer, remember?” Techno shakes his head. “Come on, Dream- Sam and Quackity? You know we can handle them in a fight, especially when you can just revive us if anything goes wrong. You don’t have to do this whole self-sacrifice thing, bro- there’s only so many times I can break into the same prison, y’know.”

“You’re so stupid,” Dream huffs, but he leans in anyway, head just barely settling against Techno’s shoulder. “I- I can’t believe. You’re so dumb.”

“Hey, don’t be sayin’ that to the guy that’s breakin’ you out of prison,” Techno laughs, slinging Dream over his shoulder with an easy motion and laughing harder when it makes him yelp. “That’s just bein’ ungrateful. You’re making Chat sad, man, and when they’re sad they don’t subscribe-”

“I regret this entirely,” Dream says, voice muffled against Techno’s shirt, tone completely flat. “Put me down- you idiot- I’m staying here. You’re worse than Quackity.”

“Rude. Now you’ve really made Chat mad. I demand an apology-”

“Boys, boys.” Niki can’t help giggling, watching the way their gazes snap towards her, rolling her eyes as she moves forward with a few potions held loosely in her hand. “Dream, do you want a health pot?”

Dream seems to deliberate for a second, before nodding at her, expression slightly strained. “...sure.”

“You two can finish your argument after we’ve broken out of the biggest maximum security prison on the server,” Phil drawls from behind her, arms crossed at his chest. “Come on, now, before Sam gets back.”

“Isn’t this the only maximum security prison on the server?” Techno asks aloud, an amused expression on his face - one that only gets worse when Phil glares at him with one ice-blue eye.

“Shut-” he sighs, shaking his head. “You two are chaotic little shits, you know that?”

“Don’t compare me to him, Phil,” Techno complains, Dream mirroring his words with muffled protests of his own, and Phil breathes another drawn-out, long-suffering sigh as he rubs at the bridge of his nose.

“Niki, give us some fire res please?”

She finds the potion bottle between giggles, throwing it to the ground as she tries to choke down the laughter rapidly bubbling up her throat. “Of course, Phil.”

She looks back at Techno and Dream before jumping into the lava, the two of them once again lost in some sort of argument, Dream draped over Techno’s shoulder. He’s breathing easier now, she notes, and Techno looks looser too - a little less tense, leaning back with a perpetual quirk to the corner of his lip as they fire insults back and forth. This is familiar, she recognizes with a soft twist in her chest, the same way that Phil and Techno can finish each other’s sentences and look at each other with laughing eyes sharing the same memories of the past, the same way Ranboo watches Techno’s every step as he adjusts his stance and lifts his sword and Techno laughs and calls him a main character in turn, the same way she and Phil will settle together on the porch over cups of tea and sit at each other’s sides for hours. The rhythm between them is one well-established, the road well-worn - she imagines them, huddled in this dingy cell for months together, and breathes in slow and deep.

“Come on,” she smiles, making sure to keep it on her face when Dream meets her eyes with wide, startled ones of his own. Dream still isn’t an ally, and isn’t a friend.

But - she watches as he smiles back, something inexplicably warm in her chest - maybe, one day, he could be.

#tw torture #tw abuse #tw self harm #tw disordered eating #tw ed #tw sh #prison arc #pandora's vault #tw starvation #c!sam critical #c!quackity critical #my writing :D #> my writing

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parkersroses · 3 years

Text

champagne problems. | harry styles.

summary: Harry and Y/N meet again after things fell out for them.

pairing: harry styles x fem!reader

word count: 7.3k words

trigger warnings: mentions of mental health issues and attempt of self harm, angst. if these are triggering to you, pls do not read this.

a/n: (gif credits to @letsmakesomeonehappytoday) i’m super nervous about this, also this is definitely the longest i’ve written. i began writing this last december bc i absolutely love the context of the song and i felt like writing something that touches important issues like mental health. i read and did research on how i could write this properly without having it look like i was romanticising the topic. if you do find it that way, pls feel free to leave constructive criticism so i can further improve and amend on my writing. don’t feel obligated to read this if it is triggering to you. here is a link to some mental health hotlines, i might add some more in another if i find any that are reliable. don’t be afraid to ask for help or even help others if you know they might be struggling.

reblog, comment if you like it or not, or even start a conversation. donate to my kofi if you’d like to support me further. i love you all.

The relaxing and sensual sound of jazz music filled the room. The chandeliers hanging above casted a golden glow over it, making the room more elegant than it did. People were dressed in nice clothing for the new year celebration.

Harry was not one for New Year’s eve parties, having to prefer sitting in the comfort of his home, sipping on some champagne as he tries to ignore the loud fireworks going off. But considering it was one of his old friends that was hosting this particular party, there was no way he would deny it. He enjoyed having to see his old friends again after a busy year of filming a movie for the world to see one day.

He stands with his friend, Jake, as he holds a champagne flute in one hand. Talia, his recently girlfriend-turned-fiancée, standing next to him with an arm wrapped around his waist. It had been two weeks since he proposed and two weeks since she said yes to marrying him. It was a joyous time for them after nearly a year of dating. Some might think they rushed but Harry ignored them. He knew if the time was right, then it would be bound to happen eventually.

Harry’s eyes scan through the sea of people while Jake and Talia are discussing animatedly about something he probably isn’t paying attention to all that much. His eyes wander around until they fall on a familiar figure. He blinks his eyes hard enough to make sure they aren’t playing tricks on him, and they aren’t. The person who he knew and loved before. The person whom he intended to spend the rest of his life with. The person who left him, not giving him a reason as to why.

Y/N stands with Natalia, occasionally sipping on her champagne as they talk. He should have known that their group of friends would stay in touch with her, even after they broke up years ago. She wears her casual dark jeans, a black long-sleeved shirt and heeled boots. A contrast to those around them, wearing fancy dresses and suits. She always stood out in her own way. It was why he loved her then.

Harry let out a breath, seemingly couldn’t believe that his ex lover is here in the same room as him. Talia notices this and questions, “Babe, you alright?” Harry breaks away his gaze from Y/N before smiling at his dear fiancée. “Yeah, m’fine. Just saw an old friend, s’all,” he assures her as he sips on his drink.

“Oh, d’you want to talk to her?” She asks, and Harry shakes his head because if he did, he wouldn’t know how to act or say to her. “No worries. Maybe later,” he says.

As time passes, Harry finds himself focused on Y/N numerous times. In his mind, he is already thinking of ways to talk to her. What would he say to her? Would she even want to talk to him? Or were they going to pretend everything was fine before she left him?

When he looks around for her again, he freezes as he sees her eyes staring right back at her, almost looking in shock as he is there too. There is a glimmer in her eyes that he always noticed. She gives him a small yet timid smile from across the room before breaking away from the eye contact.

Harry decides to pick up what’s left of his courage in his body to walk over and greet her. He leans into Talia’s ear, whispering to her. “I’m just going to meet an old friend. You’ll be okay here?” He says. Talia looks up at him and nods. She assures him that she’ll be alright, saying that she’ll talk to some other of their friends.

As he leaves her side, he walks through the sea of people to look for the person he hadn’t seen in a long time. Harry finds her grabbing another glass of champagne from a nearby tray and he smiles at this. He always knew she liked champagne. She doesn’t notice him walking up to her until he clears his throat. She turns around and her breath hitches as she sees him. Harry’s mouth dries up instantly as his eyes gazes upon her. Despite years of knowing her, he still found her beautiful.

The corner of his lips curls up slightly. “Hi,” he says quietly, his breath slightly shaking as he spoke. He isn’t sure whether she heard him, but her reply seems to answer that. “Hi,” she replies, with the same nervousness in her voice.

“Fancy seeing yeh here,” he chuckles. Y/N smiles at this; while it was awkward to have seen her ex in a long while, he never fails to make the situation comfortable for them. “Y-Yeah, you too,” she stutters.

She is not going to admit it aloud, but she misses the sound of his voice. How deep and raspy it could get. She misses his voice being the first thing she hears when she wakes up, or the hums she would hear in her ear as they would dance with no music on. She misses his touch whenever he holds her close, warmth and protection radiating from his body onto hers. She misses everything about him despite them not being together anymore for a long time, she admits but never out loud.

Silence fills the gap between as they both figure out what to say. On one hand, they can pretend everything is alright and converse like old friends. On the other, they can push their fears aside and talk about what is actually in their minds that seem to have an affect on their current relationship.

“So, how’ve yeh been?” He hesitates to ask. He’s not sure whether she would lie to him or give him the proper answer he needs. The answer he wishes he knew. Y/N doesn’t know how to answer that without making it sound as depressing as it is. There had been many times she wanted to give him a reason why she left him, to give him a little bit of closure that he deserves. Perhaps it is her pride that prevented her from doing so.

“I’m alright,” she says with a small smile on her lips. Her answer could be a lie or the truth. “And, you?”

He nods slightly at her answer. “I’ve been alright,” He gives her tight smile back. “Been a while since I last saw you,” he says and she nods. “Y-Yeah, way too long,” she says quietly. It’s hard to ignore how insincere the smile he gave her is. Y/N knows him all too well, even when they were no longer together. She knows by that smile that there’s something on his mind, something he wants to say. But she doesn’t question it.

Harry is aching to ask her. To ask what happened between them, why she left him without a warning, why she had to break his heart the way she did.

It’s almost like she senses what he is thinking because she then suggests to him. “Want to go outside for a bit?” She gestures to the backyard with her head.

“Yeah, absolutely,” Harry breathes out. He almost cringes at how desperate he sounds. “Um, after you,” he says, gesturing his hand towards the door. She softly thanks him and Harry follows right behind her outside.

“So-”

“I-”

The pair speak simultaneously as they walk and they both laugh at it. “Sorry,” she says. Harry dismisses this. “No worries.”

“You look great, by the way,” she says. Harry smiles at her compliment. “Thank you. You look amazing too,” he returns the compliment. She blushes a bit before muttering a soft ‘thank you’ under her breath.

The cold air wraps around the two bodies that once knew each other’s intimately. The stars look brighter that night and Y/N takes a deep breath as she stares up at the sky. She doesn’t realise how Harry looks at the small breath she let out, or how he admires her side profile like he used to when she sleeps. He stares at her for a bit more, like he’s remembering again what she looks like, before averting his eyes to the night sky.

“Saw you had a date back there. Someone special I assume?” She asks out of the blue. Harry freezes in his place. “Y-Yeah, she is,” he blurts out and clears his throat. “My fiancée, actually,” he says and he looks at her to see her reaction.

Y/N is surprised at first, feeling her whole body tense up before she relaxes. But Harry catches it. “That’s great. Congratulations, Harry,” she smiles at him before turning back the stars. She promises she is genuine about it. But maybe she’s just telling herself that. “How long have you both been together?”

“Nearly a year now,” he says. Y/N lets his answer sink in her head. A year, she thought. We were together longer than that for you to propo-

“Seems like a short time, huh?” She jokes, but Harry only gives a small smile. “Is it though? Too soon to ask if we’re both ready?” He says, as if he’s mocking her and something. And that sent a shard through her chest. Harry curses at himself, he shouldn’t be saying things like that despite them not being together anymore. She looks down at the ground like it was suddenly the most interesting thing and shakes her head.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” she apologises. Harry is quick to shake his head at her. “No, no. I’m sorry for how I said it. You did nothing,” he says. Y/N is silent for a bit before saying back to him.

“No, really. I didn’t mean to make things weird or uncomfortable between us. I’m just.. Sorry,” she says.

“How are you, Y/N?” He asks genuinely. Y/N is confused at first, wondering why he is asking the same question again. “I already told you, Harry. I’m alri-,”

“I mean, how actually are you?”

She turns to him, seeing as Harry is already looking at her with a solemn expression. “You don’t have to lie to me,” he says softly, almost sounding like he doesn’t want to scare her. And she knows what he meant and what he wants to know.

Y/N suddenly feels a lump forming in her throat and breathes in deeply. She clears her throat, hoping her voice doesn’t waver when she speaks. “I promise I’m okay, Harry. I just,” she sighs and closes her eyes.

“I don’t know. I’ve been getting by on my own. Trying to work on myself, you know, since,” her words falter, but Harry knows what she means. Since she left him without an answer to one of the most important questions in life. He nods his head slightly even though she doesn’t see it.

He lets out a sigh as he looks up at the starry night. “You know, it’s… kind of surreal. Us being here I mean,” he says. Y/N looks at him again with confusion written all over her face. “I’ve been wondering where you’ve been. I called but you never seem to answer. I just wanted to see how’ve yeh been, you know?” He confesses, throwing this big weight out in the open.

Y/N has her head hung low, like a child being scolded for stealing the last cookie from the cookie jar. But she knows he means well. And she hates how not only she caused problems for herself, but the person she once loved.

“I just… I miss my best friend, Y/N. I miss having her around,” he says, and he doesn’t realise how his words hit her like a truck. She breathes in sharply, feeling a slight pain in her throat. “And you don’t think I felt the same way then?” She asks softly, her voice already wavering.

Harry shakes his head. “No, love, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry,” He’s quick to apologise but she dismisses it while ignoring the fact that he called her a very familiar pet name he used to use on her. “It’s fine,” she says, and her voice is almost quiet enough for you to not hear her.

“It’s just,” she breathes out and she looks up hoping that tears won’t escape her eyes. “I wanted to let you in. I could’ve answered the phone. But I didn’t. I know how bad I left things between us, H.” Harry’s heart jumped a bit at hearing her say ‘H’ again. She used to always call him that. It still sounds lovely as it leaves her lips.

“I wish I could’ve told you why I left you kneeling with the ring still in your hand. I couldn’t, though. Maybe I wasn’t ready that time, or never was.” It hurts for her to say this because she has imagined spending the rest of her life with him countless times. “I’ve had this constant battle in my mind for so long. I thought that maybe if I ignore it, it’d be like it never was there and we’d be alright. But it got worse and I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I held it on for so long and I couldn’t say anything because I knew I’d somehow ruin everything. Well, I did in the end.” And she feels tears streaming down her face.

Harry feels his tears escaping his eyes too, but doesn’t make the effort to wipe them away. As if he’s paralyzed in where he stands. “A-And, what happened after that?” he asks ever so gently.

Y/N wipes her tears away and takes a deep breath before continuing the sad story they’re on. “I lived with it and the thoughts consumed my mind. S-Sometimes, they can get dark.” She confesses but not all at once. She won’t tell him how she felt herself crumbling down and how her mother found her unconscious in the bathroom, overdosing on some pills she found. She won’t tell him how hard she cried in her hospital bed over the pain she was in. It felt like a shard puncturing through Harry’s heart. The fact that she had been struggling all this while and he never noticed it, it kills him.

“Then, one day, I just decided to find help. I knew I needed help. And I’ve been having sessions with a psychiatrist for a few months now.” And she smiles through her tears. “I’ve been working a lot on myself, been on medication and all. Then, maybe one day, when I feel ready for it, I’d come find you, apologise for the problems I caused between us. Didn’t think it’d be tonight, though.” She jokes and hangs her head low again, like she’s scared to see what Harry thinks of her now. Just a girl who’s sick in the head.

There is an uncomfortable silence between them and Harry speaks up again. “You infuriate me sometimes, you know?” Y/N looks at him and his eyebrows are pressed together like he’s mad. She is once again confused at what he meant. “I would’ve listened. I would’ve helped you. I would’ve,” he pauses and runs his fingers through his brown curls, taking a breather so he won’t actually lose his temper. But for Y/N, it’s like she wanted him to scream at her. Yell at her for leaving him behind for her own selfish needs.

“I would’ve looked after you,” he says softly, and it’s heartbreaking to hear the pain in his voice. “I didn’t want to burden you, H. I wouldn’t do that to you,” she says gently and Harry shakes his head at her. “Is that what you thought? That you’d burden me?” She only shrugs at him with a sad smile.

“I heard it before.” She says, and it makes Harry furious that anyone would toss aside the state of her mental health. “It’s not because of your job, Harry. Or your fans,” she assures him. “I didn’t want to overwhelm you with what I’ve been going through. You deserve someone who isn’t as fucked in the head as I am,” she says.

Harry now has tears running down his cheeks. He now wishes he could go back and actually pay more attention to her, instead of being ignorant to it. He remembers when she left, the neighbourhood had quite a bit to say about the rejection, particularly on her. They often talked about how insane she was to deny his proposal because marriage is what every woman needs, right? Granted, he told them off not to speak about Y/N so poorly ever again, but he still wishes he could’ve seen the signs when it got worse for her.

Now, she stands in front of him, and it might be wrong to admit this, but she still looks just as beautiful as the day he lost her. Her eyes still have the same shine and her smile still has the same warmth to it. He lets out a small laugh. “This is not how I actually planned to spend my New Year’s eve,” he says jokingly and they both laugh, almost like the entire sad conversation did not occur. “I know,” she says, smiling at him. She doesn’t realise how her words took him back to when they would get drunk on wine while watching romantic comedies together on their couch.

“This is quite an interesting relationship you and I have,” he says smiling as he looks up at the starry night. She smiles at him too before doing the same. It’s the comfortable silence filling the gaps between them now. Just two people under the stars, one has it all figured out while the other has champagne problems.

She looks back at the building, gold lights still shining as people are getting drunk and ready for the countdown. “You should probably go back to your fiancée, H,” she says. Harry sighs as their time together has come to an end and nods. “Um, it was really great seeing you, Harry,” she says as her feet fidgets against the ground. She feels like a teenager talking to her crush again.

Before he even thinks, Harry has his hand up, brushing off the piece of hair of face, and his thumb lightly brushes over her cheeks a bit. “You too, Y/N,” he says, and he means it. Y/N feels her face warm up, before nodding her head at him and leaving. “Where’re yeh going?” He calls out to her. Without looking back, she calls back to him. “Home!”

He only looks at her leaving for a moment before calling out to her again. “Y/N, wait!”

Y/N stops in her tracks and looks back at him. “Um,” he fumbles on his words. “If I call you, not tonight, or tomorrow, just if any day after this, because we’re on good terms, uh,” he blurts out his words as she watches him, amused by what he wants to ask. “If I call, will you answer? Like I said before, I miss my best friend,” he shrugs and has almost a pleading look. Y/N’s heart melts at him and she smiles.

“I will, H,”

❊

Since their last meeting, a lot of things have been on his mind and one of them was Y/N. He hasn’t been able to stop thinking about her and the conversation they had. He knew now that it must’ve taken a lot of bravery to speak up about what she was going through. And he was proud of her. He really was.

He has been thinking about calling her for a while. He just doesn’t know what he’ll say. He wants to know how she’s feeling even though he’ll never know what it felt like for her to go through the dark times she went. But he could try to understand. He owes her that, at least. He spends some of his time off reading about mental health issues and educating himself more now.

Talia wanted to start planning their wedding, which makes Harry fill up his schedule more between wedding plans and music plans. He tries his best to accommodate whatever Talia wants for their special day. Though, sometimes he finds himself not focusing on the shades of white she suggested for her dress.

Sometimes, Talia would get mad at him for not prioritizing their wedding, seemingly as it was a very important thing for them, well, more for her. She gets mad at him for not focusing on their plans instead of hiding in his studio. She once told him to get his act together because if he wasn’t serious about this, he never would have asked her to marry him. That knocked a nail on the head as she stormed out of the room after another small argument.

Part of him thinks it's the thought of marriage finally sinking in his head. He has the girl, he got a ‘yes’, it should be as exciting as when he asked her. But he finds himself in and out of planning, always reverting his focus back to music, like he’s stalling. He still hasn’t told Talia about Y/N, but there was no need to since he’s with her and not Y/N. When Talia asked about his slightly red eyes at the party, he lied and said something was in his eyes. She believed it, of course.

Now, he’s thinking back to the situation with Talia. He admits he hadn't been paying attention to her as much as he should or helping out with their wedding. But her words now stuck with him. If he wasn’t serious about marrying Talia, he wouldn’t have asked her. He tells himself that he really does love her and he knows she loves him. So why is he hesitating almost at the thought of marriage? Why does it feel like he’s leading her on? He was so sure he wanted her. Unless he only asked her for the hell of it and to not be lonely.

He sits quietly in his little studio with his thoughts as his company. What is he really doing? He really doesn’t know.

❊

She’s laying down on her sofa, staring up at the ceiling again. She does this a lot, having nothing much to do at home other than rereading the books on her shelf or following a recipe for a delicious meal. Instead, she lays down staring at the blank ceiling thinking of how her life went. And in the state of all nothingness, she thinks of him.

Meeting Harry again opened up a whole jar of emotions she kept hidden. It was no doubt that she still cared for him. She was still in love with him and if they were in another universe, she’d tell him that. She’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to him, for causing so much hurt to him. But she couldn’t. He belongs to someone else now. Someone who is more worthy of his love and time. And she’s happy for him, genuinely she is.

As she thinks about him, she recalls back to the days before it all went wrong. She remembers being scared. She had found his mother’s ring in between his clothes as she was putting away their laundry. She remembers being terrified of the commitment Harry was in. She knew for certain that he would ask her sooner or later. But for her, she still doesn’t know. She wants to marry him, but is she ready for it? Is she worthy of him devoting his love and time to her for the rest of his life?

That’s when the doubts came in. She was always battling the thoughts in her head more often after finding out that he might propose to her. She keeps a disguise up, pretending she’s not screaming for help or suffering, hoping that maybe it’ll go away and when he asks, she’ll say the answer he wants to hear. But she didn’t keep the disguise up for long.

When they arrived at Harry’s family home, she was overwhelmed. She saw the bottle of expensive champagne on the kitchen table. Their friends were there too. She was told they were just having a family gathering along with their friends, but she knew what was about to happen.

Nothing could prepare her for when Harry pulled her out the backyard, kneeling down in front of her with his mother’s ring in hand. She could still remember the look on his face, so bright and in love, then having to see it all disappear and his expression drop. He was speechless, so speechless that it took him a minute to snap out of it and run after her as she exited the house. She passed by the living room and had a glance of how everyone was rather to celebrate; no applause or cheers of congratulations were made.

She felt a lot of things that day. Pain, embarrassment, guilt, regret.

Now, a year later, she likes to think she’s doing better, not only for her family or Harry, but for myself. It’s safe to say it was going well for her, she definitely felt better. That dark part of her life was always going to be a part of her, but she was glad she did something about it.

She had struggled a lot before asking for help. She always had trouble sleeping and always felt herself drained to the core. She took some sleeping pills in hopes to feel better. Until one day, she just decided to down the whole bottle like she was downing a bottle of alcohol. She was lucky enough that her mother was around when she found her, her father too was quick enough to call an ambulance. It was too hazy for her to remember precisely what happened after. When she got admitted, she cried to her mother of how much pain she was in, and it killed her. She thinks of how selfish and stupid it was for her to do something like that. That’s when she decided she needed help, like really needed help.

It’s funny how life works sometimes. A few months ago, she was found nearly dead. She has been recovering now. It took a while to open up during her psychiatry sessions and her mother monitored her to make sure she was doing alright. She lives alone now, but still has her mother check up on her. She didn’t find it annoying, in fact she asked her mother to watch over her a bit because she doesn’t trust herself.

She’s healthier now, keeping herself busy to reflect and work on herself. And it did cross her mind a few times before to find Harry, to maybe apologise to him. But she thought that perhaps he didn’t want anything to do with her anymore. And that’s okay for her. Plus, she always hoped that he would find someone else that’ll love him just as much as she did him.

He hasn’t contacted her since they last met and she wonders whether he’s scared of doing so. Then again, she hasn’t made the effort to contact him too. Maybe they’re both scared.

She was about to get up and make herself some coffee after feeling a bit thirsty. She takes out a mug and sets it on the counter before she hears a knock on her door. She freezes in her place, her face scrunches up in confusion. She doesn’t remember having anyone making plans to come by. She hasn’t contacted her friends in a while and her parents would have told her that they would visit.

Knocks on her door snaps her out of her trance as she realises she is still in the kitchen. She slowly walks up to the door and looks through the peephole. To her surprise, she sees Harry standing right before her door. She pulls herself back from the door and thinks for a moment. How did he know where she lived now? Why is he here when he could have just called her?

Realising that he’s probably waiting outside for too long, she takes deep breaths and opens the door. There he is. Standing in his usual white t-shirt where you could see his tattoos through it, his black joggers hugging his muscular legs with some sneakers on his feet. His hair is a bit disheveled and she could imagine him running his fingers through it in a nervous and stressful manner.

“Hi,” he says breathily. His expression is somewhat hopeful, she thinks. “Hey,” she replies, giving a small smile. He’s fidgeting on his feet, something she knows he does when he’s nervous. So why is he nervous? She’s trying to come up with different theories in her head.

“Um, may I come in?” Harry asks. Y/N snaps out of her thoughts again and nods quickly, opening the door wider for him to walk through, hearing him mumbling a small ‘thanks’ under his breath. Harry looks around the small new apartment she now lives in, smiling at how it is very much her character the way she put things together.

She locks the door behind her and clears her throat as she faces him. “Sorry for showing up out of the blue like this,” he apologises. She only smiles and shakes her head. “No, no worries. I was just... wondering how you found where I live. I don’t think I ever told you that,” she says questionably.

The corner of his lips lift up just slightly. “Your mother, actually,” he says. She rolls her eyes playfully at this and lets out a small laugh. Of course, her mother would let him know where she lived. Her parents always loved Harry and treated him as family. Even when they fell apart, they still cared about him. After all, he was one of the only good things in her life that she cherished.

“Of course, she would. She still loves you for all I know,” she says with a sheepish smile. Harry throws his back in laughter and it makes her smile even more. “Well, I guess I might have to visit them again some time,” he says, smiling cheekily at her.

For a moment, it feels like everything was normal between them.

She shakes her head at him as she plays with her fingers, something he knows she does when she is nervous. “Um, I guess you’re here to talk about something else?” She asks, and she sees how his smile falters just a bit. “Yeah, actually,” he mumbles under his breath, but she hears him.

She nods with a tight smile on her face, seemingly trying to mask her anxiousness behind it. “Okay. Uh, just, make yourself comfortable. I’ll get you a glass of water,” she says, hurrying off to the kitchen before Harry could say anything. She sets a glass down and gets a jug of water. Her hands are shaking just a bit and she tells herself to calm down. It’s just Harry, she thinks. Whatever he wants to say couldn’t be that bad. Right?

She comes back to the living room where Harry is. He hasn’t sat down on the couch, instead he’s just standing in the middle of the room, looking around and admiring the little touches she put like the indoor plants and the paintings on the wall. She gently sets the glass down on the coffee table, the glass making a ‘clink’ sound on the surface. Harry turns around to face her and smiles, his little dimple making an appearance on the corner of his lips. She smiles back at him before clearing her throat.

“You had something you wanna say?” She asks, fiddling with her fingers. Harry nods slightly. “Yeah, I do. Um,” he begins as he rubs the back of his neck lightly.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about what I want to say, been practicing the words in my head. So, I’m sorry if it ends up a mess,” he says, letting out a small laugh. She laughs a bit with him too. Nodding as she gestures for him to continue, he breathes in deeply before letting his words out.

“After we met last time, I, uh,” he begins and she swears she could hear how loud and fast her heart is beating. “I’ve just been reflecting on how we left things off. And I promise I meant to call you sooner, but I just didn’t know what I’d say that won’t make things weird and awkward,” he stops to look at her for a moment and the expression on his face is almost so familiar to her.

“When you told me your story, I felt a lot of things. I felt… upset and angry that I couldn’t read the signs that were so evidently there. I thought maybe I realised it sooner, or tried harder to help, I could’ve helped you and you wouldn’t have felt to have gone through it alone. I hated how you were alone in this and how you helped like you couldn’t talk to me about,” His breaths are shaky, like he might break any minute. She wants to caress his face so badly, comfort him, but she knows it wouldn’t be appropriate. He’s still engaged to someone else after all.

She looks down at her floor, taking a gulp in her throat. “Harry, what are you saying?” She asks ever so softly.

“I’m saying that… you don’t have to go through it alone, darling. I’m saying that I wanna be there for you now. Albeit it has been months, but,” he pauses to take a breath. “If you give me a chance, to let me in, I promise to always be there for you and to be by your side all the time. Whenever you need me.”

Y/N takes a moment to process what he had just said, shaking her head at him. “Harry, I,” she takes in a sharp breath. “I don’t think you need to do that.” Harry’s face scrunches up in confusion. “Why not?”

“I just, I don’t want to burden you. I’ve already made it hard for my parents enough,” she says, trying to convince him even though all she wants is for him to be by her side. He shakes his head, chuckling a bit. “You’ll never be a burden to me, love. I want to be there for you always. It’s my choice to do this,”

“What about your fiancée? What’s she gonna think about her fiancé or husband soon when he’s out there looking after some girl, Harry?”

“You’re not just some girl, Y/N. You’re my best friend. And I,” he pauses in his words again and takes a deep breath. “What?” She asks nervously.

The corner of his lips lift up just slightly and his expression almost looks guilty. “And I’m in love with you,” he says and that’s when she feels that her heart stops. He loves me, she thinks. All the time, she thinks the feelings would have gone away but here he is, in her living room, telling her he’s in love with her.

“No,” she says. Harry is surprised by her response. “No?” He repeats.

“You’re not in love with me anymore, Harry,” she says, almost like she’s trying to convince herself that. “Yes, I am, love. I’m still in love with you, even after all this time,” he says desperately to her.

“Don’t do this to me, Harry. It’s not funny,” she says as her voice starts to waver. “It’s not fair to your fiancée for you to say this.” It’s funny to her how she still doesn’t know her name, but maybe she doesn’t know hers either. Harry steps closer to her and his heart breaks a little when she steps back.

“Darling,”

“Don’t, Harry! Please,” she practically begs him. “Just go back to her. It’s been a good talk and it’s good to see you again but you have to leave,”

“I don’t want to leave you, Y/N,” he says and it’s surprising how calm he is at this moment.

“Harry, I,”

“I’m not engaged anymore,” he says, cutting her off. She stares at him in shock and disbelief. “What do you mean?” She asks. He sighs as he runs his fingers through his hair. “I broke it off with Talia. There won’t be any wedding,” he confesses.

“So what? You broke up with her just to look out for me? Are you insane!?” She exclaims. She doesn’t want to believe that he broke up with her because of her. She thinks back if she would’ve hid from him during the party, he’d still be in a happy relationship with Talia with no problems. Once again, she’s thinking it’s all her fault.

“I’m as sane as I can be,” He says, raising his voice slightly to match her tone. She shakes her head, paces in her place, muttering ‘no’s to herself. “Darling, look at me,” Harry says gently as he steps closer to her. “No, this isn’t happening,” She’s now muttering words to herself and it breaks him even more to think she might think this is her fault when it’s not.

“Look at me, Y/N,” he says as he tries to get her to look at him, but to no avail, she keeps her eyes away from him. “No, Harry. We can’t,” she says and she realises now how tears are starting to fall from her eyes. “Yes, we can, darling! Just listen to me,” he tries to convince her.

“You belong with Talia, Harry! Someone who has her life put together, a-and, someone who’s not fucked in the head as I am! She’ll make you happy!” She tells him, almost trying to convince him to go back and fix his relationship.

“She won’t make me as happy as I was with you. It wouldn’t be fair to her,” Harry says to her as he tries to cup her face and wipe her tears. “What wouldn’t be fair to her? Huh?”

“It wouldn’t be fair to lead her on when I’m in love with you!”

And then, everything stops. Silence fills the room and all you could hear are the heavy breaths between them. Harry runs his hand over his face before speaking again. “I tell myself that I’ll be able to love again after you. But the love I’ll have for any other will never amount to the love I have for you. It wouldn’t be fair to move on with Talia when all I could think about is you. When I know I’ll always be madly in love with you,” he tells her, his voice wavering with every word he says.

She breathes in shakily, feeling the painful lump in throat. “Maybe if we hadn’t met that night, you wouldn’t have to think like that,” she says so softly under her breath, like she was ashamed. She looks down like a child being scolded by a parent.

She hears him stepping closer to her and this time, she doesn’t step back away from him. She feels his hand under her chin, lifting her head up so she has no choice but to look at her. His forest-green eyes, ever so beautiful, are glossy with the tears he holds. “I wish you’d stop thinking that this is your fault when it’s not, darling,” he says gently to her.

She realises how close their faces are together, feeling his breath hitting her face as they stare at each other with the same look. She sees it in his eyes. Love. And maybe it’s because she’s emotionally exhausted or she realises how there is still love in his eyes for her and only her.

She gently yet hesitantly puts her hand on his cheek, seeing as how he leans into her touch with his eyes closed, as if he misses her touch all this time. She doesn’t waste another second before pulling his face closer and letting their lips crash against each other. Harry is quick enough to reciprocate the action. His hand that is not on her hand wraps itself around her torso so move her closer to her. All he wants is to be close to her.

She whimpers into the kiss as she feels tears streaming down her face again. She misses this. She misses his kisses, how soft and plump his lips feel against hers and how they taste. She misses the way he pulls her closer to him because he doesn’t want any space in between them. She misses him.

They don’t know long they have been kissing until they break apart to catch their breath. She feels dizzy after the kiss while he feels like he’s on cloud nine. Their lips still brush against each other and Harry pecks her lips softly as she whimpers at the action.

“I love you,” she finally tells him. And it feels so good to say it again to him. Harry sighs shakily, almost in disbelief that she said those three words, and his lips break out into the biggest smile. “Really?” He asks. She giggles as her hands cup his face.

Harry sighs and leans his head back with his eyes closed, looking so bliss in the moment. “I’m sorry. Can you say that again? I wasn’t paying attention,” he says teasingly with a smug smile on his face. Y/N gasps and playfully punches his shoulder a bit, making him laugh.

“I love you, you handsome idiot,” she says laughing at him. Harry shakes his head with a wide stupid grin on his face. He rests his forehead on hers, their noses brushing against each other’s. “Again, please. Just so I know I’m not dreaming this,” he says, his eyes closed as he savours in the moment.

She grabs his face in her hands and pulls him away so she could look at him. He notes how soft yet small her hands felt as caresses his face. “I love you,” she says again, more gently but having more love and passion in her words. And she loves saying it because she does.

She has always loved him and always will love him. Her beats for him as his does for her. Her thoughts are filled with nothing but him. Looking at him now, he feels just as lovely and beautiful as the days they were together before. She knows that she’ll never love another as much as she loves him. She’ll fully admit that she is crazy, stupidly, madly and truly in love with him.

Harry smiles ever so lovingly at her as his large hands cup her face. At this moment, it feels right, like they belong together. Despite the odds and struggles she had to go through, he promises to never leave her side, to always be around, to always be the shoulder she needed to cry on, to lend her his arms to give her the warmth and comfort she deserves. And he admits that he is truly, madly and deeply in love with her too.

“I love you too,” he says as he brings their faces closer to each other, enclosing the gap between their lips again. He misses the way her lips gelt and how sweet they taste against his. He swears he’ll never get tired of loving her. Their lips move against each other slowly and gently as they try to savour in the moment. A moment that just felt right to them. For a moment, her champagne problems are forgotten, even though it’s still something that will always be a part of her.

They part away soon after, now staring into the eyes they fell in love with. Their smiles are permanently inked on their faces as the two lovers look at each other with the only things they have on their mind that will get them through.

Love and hope.

And somehow, that was everything.

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles imagines #harry styles writing #parkersroses writing #parkersroses masterlist

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sj-ficrecs · 3 years

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1,000+ followers fic rec!

Recently noticed at some point a little while ago I passed 1,000 followers on this page! In honor of that here’s another fic rec of some good ones I’ve been reading lately. As usual, no specific order.

PREVIOUS FIC RECS HERE!

(Hopefully this shows up in tags bc my last one didn’t & tumblr wouldn’t fix it)

Thanks to @whimsicalrogers for this divider I’m using below :)

Bucky x reader:

3B by @softlybarnes Bucky x reader

“Bucky is used to being alone, so is the girl living in apartment 3B. He keeps to his routine, to crossing off amends. But mutual loneliness forges an unlikely friendship. Alone and reclusive, sweet and incredibly strange, with deep secrets and regrets, 3B has more to reveal than meets the eye.”

(un)cool by @belowva rockstar!Bucky x reader

“in the summer of 1973, after covering the howling commandos’ concert for a night, you - a young and inexperienced music journalist - accidentally end up following the up and coming band from new york city across the country. between shows, parties, backstage nonsense, interviews and failed attempts at writing a cover story for rolling stone magazine, you end up developing a love/hate relationship with their brooding, but devilishly handsome, guitarist james “call me bucky” barnes. (based on “almost famous”)”

Your Song by @summergrls Rockstar!Bucky x reader

“it’s not summer without you. or, that’s what your favorite rockstar always says. it’s all happening.”

Last Love by @wicked-mind Modern!Bucky x reader

“Based on the quote “He may be your first love but I intend to be your last” by Klaus Mikaelson.”

Remember Me by @wicked-mind Modern!Bucky x reader

“Y/N and Bucky were the unlikely match when it came to love, but they were inseparable since they met. After a fight, Y/N left to be a trauma surgeon in the military and returns without her memories. How will Bucky remind Y/N how she is the fire in his bones?”

Cake by @tellmealovestory (Part of the Something More universe) Modern!Bucky x reader

“The wedding plans continue as you and Bucky try to decide on a cake flavor.”

My Eyes by @invisibleanonymousmonsters Bucky x reader, past Steve x reader

“Steve is a good man, America’s golden boy, a hero. He’s Captain America for christ’s sake! So it’s normal to want what he has… right? Bucky knows he doesn’t deserve her. He doesn’t even deserve the second chance at life he’s been given. But Bucky can never let him know. Steve can never find out that his friend is in love with his best girl.”

The Mess by @sanguineterrain Bucky x Avenger!reader

“A wild night in Vegas changes everything between you and Bucky. Suddenly, all eyes are on you and you’re left wondering just how much can change between you and a man whose guts you hate (and who also hates yours).”

The Devil Has Lilith by @write-orflight Bucky x reader, soulmate AU

“They say your soulmate is supposed to be the one person you love unconditionally. So why did they make yours so insufferable?”

College!Bucky series / Couldn’t Be Me by @drunken-imagines College!Bucky x reader

Bucky is a known fuck boy trying to win over reader

Best of Friends by @anna-phora Modern!Bucky x reader

“When your best friend steals marries Bucky’s best friend, the two of you are left with only one solution: to become best friends yourselves.”

Back to You by @celestialbarnes Modern!ex-Bucky x reader

“desperate to find a place to stay after your boyfriend cheated on you, you end up crashing at bucky’s apartment, the problem is he’s the ex that you never really got over and he’s got a new girl who doesn’t like you very much.”

It’s Been a Long, Long Time by @luminnara Alpha!Bucky x Omega!Reader

“When HYDRA had their prized asset, the Winter Soldier, they did something no one ever thought was possible: they gave super soldier serum to an omega. With the sole purpose of tending to him during his ruts, she spends decades living in HYDRA facilities, denied her humanity and her life. Now, years later, Bucky Barnes has his mind and his own life back…and the last thing he ever expects is to see a familiar omega again. Bucky/OC, a little angsty but mostly smutty/fluffy/romantic!“

Friends Don’t by @watchtowerindistress Bucky x reader

“Reader is in a friends-with-benefits relationship with Bucky Barnes. Rule #1: no feelings - so don’t get attached (written by Bucky). Rule #2: don’t ever stay over (written by (Y/N)). After a fateful mission, one of them is going to break all the rules.”

Just a Touch by @buckychrist Bucky x reader

“Your powers? Controlling any feeling a human can have, from emotions to pain, with a simple brush of your fingertips. Your mission? The traumatized soldier with sad stricken eyes and scream filled nightmares.”

Under Pastel Skies by @redgillan Modern!Bucky x Artist!reader

“Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.”

A Long Ways Away by @ai-unknown Bucky x reader

“Connection, reconnection, and a small miscommunication. Bucky will travel however far, if it means making you smile.”

No Rest for the Wicked by @abovethesmokestacks Trucker!Bucky x reader

Based upon this ask: “i have the absolute weirdest urge today to get railed by trucker!bucky in a motel in like southern florida🤨 and it’s late too, maybe 3-4 am. the place is kinda seedy & it’s rlly humid and hot outside & the ac barely works so we’d both be sweating a lot but it makes it hotter”

Meanwhile in Louisiana by @multifandomwriter Bucky x reader

“You are Sam’s best friend and you meet Bucky when Sam organizes a party down at the docks.”

A Tender Heart by @river-soul Alpha!Bucky x Omega!reader

“You’ve been sweet on Bucky since you started working at the compound six months ago. Normally quiet and mild mannered, an unexpected fight with a coworker brings Bucky into your orbit.”

Steve x reader:

Jane Doe by @justkending Modern!Steve x reader

“They weren’t next door neighbors, but they did live in the same apartment complex. However, they were on completely different sides of the complex. Steve always sees her across the way doing her daily routines and way about life on her balcony from his own. Something about her has him checking in on her from across the way when he can… She’s intriguing and has a way about her life that he finds calming and captivating. He wants to know more about who she is, but there’s no non-creepy way of approaching a neighbor that doesn’t know you exist. Is there?”

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dracowars · 4 years

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I was wondering if you can write one with harry for me? Where harry and reader are dating around when sirius died in order of the phoenix and harry is very depressed about the stiuation and slowly disassociates from the reader and when he/she wanted to talk about it and lighten the weight on his shoulders harry says sth to reader along the lines "you are not my family and you are not my home" and a big fight eventually harry realises what he has done and gets very upset bc he loves her/him so much. They eventually make up but i want drama and tears you know lol i will be very happy if you can write this!!

don't shut me out | harry potter

pairing: harry x gryffindor!reader

word count: 2,5k

summary: where harry shuts y/n out after sirius' death

a/n: my first harry one shot, yayy! thank you for sending in this request <3

warnings: angst, cursing, mentions of death

universe: harry potter

"Please write an essay about the effects of the Anti-Paralysis Potion until next week", Professor Snape grimly finishes his lesson and immediately chaotic murmur breaks out in the classroom when all the other students pack up their things and leave for their well deserved break.

You on the other hand calmly close your book and slowly slide it into your bag before getting up from your seat with a sigh, but not without taking another look at the empty seat in front of you first.

Harry did not show up for class again today. This is the third time this week and even when he is in one of his courses, his mind is not there with him.

A week ago he returned to the common room, devastated, and Ron and Hermione even had to support him so he would not fall over. The only thing you knew at that time was that they were on a secret mission at the Ministry of Magic, but you did not know what a terrible disaster happened.

Harry did not exchange a word with you and went straight to bed that evening, leaving you behind confused and ignorantly until Hermione told you about the recent events. Sirius Black, Harry's godfather and last living relative, was killed right in front of his eyes through his own cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange. While Hermione told you what happened, tears were already uncontrollaby streaming down your face.

You knew exactly how much he meant to Harry.

Now that Harry has also lost the last remaining member of his family, he has shut himself off completely, hiding from the world, from his friend and also from you. Any attempts to talk to him have failed, but you keep a close eye on him everyday.

If he does not shown up at dinner again, you bring him a plate full of his favorite food to his room, even if it is without his consent, just to find it barely touched in the morning. If he misses another of his lessons again, you always take even more detailed notes than usual that you later give him so he is able to catch up on what he has missed so far, just to watch the pile grow bigger and bigger.

Every time you enter his room, it breaks your heart when you have to see how your boyfriend, whose face has lost all color by now, looks at you with such sad eyes and cannot even utter a different word at you than a simple 'thank you'. It pains you to see him like this, but he won't let you get to him anymore, he won't let you or his best friends help him.

He shuts himself off the world completely.

"Ms. Y/L/N", Snape suddenly approaches you as you are about to make your way out of the classroom. You look up at your grouchy professor, full of expectation and also a little scared.

"Tell Potter if he does not show up for my class one more time, he will fail", he explains seriously and you can only nod while his cold stare is fixed on you. "Very good."

Turning around, you quickly run out of the door and meet Ron and Hermione in the hallway in front of it, waiting for you.

"What took you so long? I am starving", Ron asks you oblivious as you make your way through the crowd of students in the direction of the Great Hall.

"Snape held me from going. If Harry does not show up for class soon, he will fail in all of his courses", you mutter and your thoughts immediately wander back to him and how he is doing right now.

"Snape can't do that! Dumbledore will not allow it anyway. Everyone knows what happened and no one is this cruel", Hermione breathes out in shock.

"We are still talking about Snape, you know that, right?", Ron replies, only catching an annoyed look from her at his words.

"I will talk to Harry again. Well, at least I will try", you sigh exhaustedly and just before reaching the Great Hall, you leave your friends alone and run up the stairs to the Gryffindor common room, entering it after saying the correct password.

Waisting no time, you walk up the stairs to the boys' dormitories and timidly knock on the door. Nothing, not a single sound comes from the inside when you knock a second time.

"Harry? It's me, Y/N. May I come in-"

"Get out!", his voice angrily shouts at you through the door and you back away in shock. There is so much sorrow in his voice, so much pain, so much fear.

So much hate.

"I am not going anywhere", you answer firmly and stand your ground before carelessly opening the door.

The sight that greets you when you enter lets your eyes widen to the maximum. The entire room has been demolished, your carefully written notes scattered in snippets on the floor, his books torn apart next to it and the whole furniture turned over.

And in the middle of it all there is Harry, breathing heavily, as emaciated as you have never seen him before, his hands clenched into fists, his fingernails already painfully digging into his palms. The expression on his face blank when his gaze meets yours.

Without saying a word, you slowly and carefully walk towards him, trying not to stumble over anything on the floor until you stand in front of him. And then you wait.

Wait for him to finally open up to you, wait for him to finally let everything out.

But he turns away.

"Harry", you breathe out barely audible and reach for his hand, which he pulls away in the last second, his eyes on the ground and his back to you.

"Go", he orders, now without any emotion in his voice.

Refusing to listen to his words and let him push you away another time, you circle him to stand right in front of him again.

"I said go!", he aggressively yells at you, but you are quick to catch his face between your hands and lift it up so he has to look at you, taking a good look at him while softly pressing your palms to his cheeks.

His cheeks are still damped from the numerous tears that have flowed over them, and his eyes are glassy, almost fragile.

"I am here for you", you claim in a low voice to not scare him away while you look deep into his eyes, in which you discover nothing but emptiness. "I can help you if you would just let me, Harry. Please don't shut me out."

For a brief moment there is silence, somehow pleasant and safe as it has always been between the two of you. In the next moment, however, your hopes are destroyed.

"I don't need your damn help!", he yells at you again and pulls away from you, running his hands through his hair desperately while you stay frozen in place.

You almost had him.

"You do need me! You can't just lock yourself up here for weeks, Harry!", you raise your voice as well, desperation evident in it.

"You can't tell me what to do!", he loudly shouts and the look he throws at you is again full of nothing but hatred.

"What happened to Sirius is horrible, but you have to move on some day and you can't do that if you do not talk to someone about it. I am your girlfriend and-"

"Exactly. You are just my girlfriend and not my family!", Harry angrily spits out all of a sudden, his words catching you off guard and you could swear how your heart has split into half right at this second. "You are not and never will be my home, get that into your head! I am sick of you, Y/N! How you pamper me like I am a fucking child and never know when to stop!"

"A-Are you serious r-right now?", you let out a trembling sob, the strength to scream at him gone when a tear rolls down your cheek. You look at him with complete disappointment, at the boy whom you love so much, who just hurt you so deep as you would have never imagined him to.

"Get the hell out of here!"

"Do you even hear what you are saying? You do not really mean that. Tell me that you do not mean that, Harry!"

"It is the only thing that I want", he grinds his teeth and you nod understandingly while wiping away your tears.

"Fine. If I can never be your home anyway, then I guess this is where it ends", you sniff and walk past him, your gaze lowered as you go out of the room and let the door slam shut behind you.

And he does not even follow you.

Deeply hurt and with a broke heart, you barely make it to your dorm room, where you slide down the closed door with your back and pull your knees close to your shaking body, weeping bitterly.

You do not know how long you sat there and just cried your eyes out, but when you hear Hermione's worried voice behind you, it is already dark outside and you missed all of your classes.

Exhausted, you let yourself fall into your soft mattress, hiding your tear stained face from your roommates, but of course Hermione immediately senses that something is wrong.

She approaches you carefully as to not frighten you and sits down next to you on your bed, stroking your back up and down soothingly, which in return only makes you cry harder into your pillow. After several minutes you finally manage to calm down and sit up.

Hermione looks at you speechless, does not urge you to tell her about what happened at all, but you do it anyway as it almost gushes out of you. And so you spend the whole night in your bed talking.

The next morning you are sitting in the Great Hall at breakfast, completely exhausted. While Ron allows himself another joke with Hermione, you stare down at your empty plate, your stomach not wanting to be filled.

"Did you finally got Harry back to his senses, Y/N?", Ron asks you out of nowhere, pulling you out of your deep thoughts, and you interpret a teasing tone in his voice.

Your eyes filling with tears in a matter of seconds, you abruptly get up and leave the hall, leaving a confused Ron and an angry Hermione behind as you run back into the common room and into your own room.

Again you let yourself fall to the floor behind the closed door, your arms crossed over your drawn up knees, your forehead resting on top. Without meaning to, your sobs get stronger by every second, shaking through your body while your breath speeds up to an unhealthy pace.

Your head and your heart just do not want to understand that what you and Harry once had is over, once and for all. That you will never wake up in his cozy, warm arms again. That you will never feel his tender touch again. And above all, that you can never look at him the same way you did before.

You lost him for good this time.

The sudden knock on the wooden door behind you causes your head to jerk up in surprise. Not sure if you just imagined it, you stay silent for a moment and hold back your crying.

Another gentle knock.

"Please leave me alone, Hermione", you sniff and lower your head again.

"Y/N", his voice sounds muffled from the other side unexpectedly and your heart leaps painfully.

You always loved the way he pronounced your name, how easily it slides off his tongue. Since your first meeting, back then on platform 9¾ where you immediately fell in love with him head over heels.

Speechless, you are unable to move or say anything, just blinking away your tears.

"I know that you are in there. I can hear you crying", he softly speaks to you through the door and finally causes you to get up from the ground and open the door with a swing.

"What do you want?", you calmly ask him, trying not to show the emotions going through your head right now, and avoid eye contact while playing with the hem of your sweater. It takes a moment for Harry to contain himself, the sight of your fragile figure like pure horror in his eyes.

A sight for which he is guilty. He alone did this to you.

After clearing his throat, he searchs for the right words to make everything alright again, to fix everything he said, anything just so he does not have to see you this devastated. However, there is not a single sound coming out of his mouth.

"If you have nothing to say, get out", you order with all your might and try to sound as serious and emotionless as possible, trying to hold back your rising tears.

At least until you suddenly end up in his warm, safe arms after he pulls you into a bone crushing hug before you could close the door on him. A hug you both needed more than necessary.

"I am such a stupid idiot", Harry whispers in your ear, also having trouble to hide his sadness. "You just wanted to be there for me and I pushed you away even though you could have given me exactly what I needed."

His words only make you more emotional and turn you into a crying mess, your face hiding in his chest. His hand slowly rubs over your back to calm you down. Your legs begin to tremble harder and Harry has to hold you upright with all his strength to not let you fall.

"I-I just could not accept that I was alone", Harry sighs as he listens to your sobs until you finally push yourself weakly away and stand in front of him, an arm's length apart.

"You are not alone", you choke out and Harry gives you a small, tender smile before closing the gap between you and gently placing his hand on your cheek. With his fingers he strokes the strands of hair out of your face that are already stuck to your skin due to the tears.

"I realized that too, sweetheart", he confirms and tilts your head towards him to leave a soft kiss on your forehead. "I can't erase what terrible things I said to and threw at you, but please believe me when I tell you that that I did not mean a single word. I just did not know how to move on and you were there to receive all of my anger.. Do you forgive me?"

"Only if you never shut me out like that again. I will always be here for you and take care of you, Harry. No matter what, I will stay", you answer, also with a tiny smile on your lips and when he returns it before connecting your lips you, the world around you suddenly becomes more colorful and bright again.

"I promise."

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sassyhobbits · 4 years

Note

for one night standards would you write a scene where aelin cant be found in the castle maybe bc shes doing sth ridiculous with her daughter like a mother daughter photoshoot to surprise rowan with later but when rowan can't find her he gets all panicked and out of his mind bc he still has unresolved trauma from when she was kidnapped and its all angsty until he has both back in his arms but also gives rowan a chance to talk and work through his experience with aelin gone? (because lets face it he probably ignores his feelings about that as much as possible in order to not burden aelin further and because it was just too painful)

loved this idea!!! i also added the prompt “Because I know when I open my eyes this will all turn out to be a dream and I’ll lose you again“ Thank you to everyone who supported ONS!! i had such a fun time writing it and im always happy to come back to it. enjoy!!

~~~

Rowan Whitethorn was generally a patient man.

He knew how to wait his turn, to take his time. He was always one to raise a brow at those who seemed to be in a harried rush to everything. It seemed stressful, to say the least. He was perfectly content to sit back when needed.

Except for now.

He had made a trip back home to Doranelle to surprise Isolde for her graduation from her masters program. Aelin had wanted to come as well, but with the baby and the responsibilities she had back in Orynth, it just hadn’t worked out. Still, she sent her well-wishes to Isolde through a video chat, letting little Eliora babble into the camera and say hello as well.

Their daughter was just over six months now, already growing far too fast for Rowan’s liking. He treasured every moment he got to spend with his two favorite girls.

And although he was always happy to see his family back in Doranelle, it had been the longest he had been away since Eliora had been born. It made him highly impatient to return home.

His jet touched down in Terrasen in the early afternoon. It was summer, though the day was mild. The sky was a vivid blue, fat white clouds floating lethargically on the breeze. Absolutely beautiful.

Due to the time difference, he hadn’t been able to call Aelin before he had got on the plane. He tried to reach her as he slid into the dark sedan that would drive him from the airport to the palace, but all he got was her voicemail.

Maybe she was in the shower, or changing Eliora’s diaper. Maybe their daughter had a finicky night of sleeping and now the pair were trying to catch up on their slumber. It was fine. Or so Rowan told himself. He still hadn’t been able to stop the small clench of nerves at the pit of his stomach.

He scolded those foolish feelings. Of course his wife and daughter were safe. They were just waiting for him to return.

The drive was quick and easy and he was back at the palace before he knew it. His feet carried him towards the room he shared with Aelin, a small smile curling on his lips as he thought about having his wife and daughter in his arms once more. He missed the feeling of Aelin curled against him as they slept.

“Aelin?” he called, pushing into their room and nudging the door shut behind him. “I’m home.”

He was greeted by nothing but silence. No sound of running water in the bathroom to suggest a shower, so soft snores or shifting sheets meaning a nap. He strode into the bedroom, finding that the bed was already neatly made, not a thread out of place.

He dropped his bags by the dresser, noting that Aelin’s phone had been left there, face up. He picked it up, seeing that she still had the notification of a missed call from him and a few miscellaneous emails that hadn’t been checked.

“Aelin?” he said again, moving towards the nursery. He had gotten used to the sight of Aelin sitting in the rocking chair with Eliora, either when the babe was hungry or she just wanted to hold her daughter. Rowan had countless pictures on his phone of the two of them in that position. The sunlight streamed from the window and hit them just right in the mornings, making them look like a painting.

But the nursery was empty and the window was shut.

Those nerves reared their ugly heads once more. He had no reason to assume the worst, the palace was one of the safest places in the kingdom.

But… Aelin had once been snatched away from him on palace grounds. During their own wedding.

Rowan shook himself. No. That was the past. This was now.

Since his wife didn’t have her phone, he knew it would be fruitless to try and contact her that way. But, Rowan knew Aelin better than he knew himself.

He began a sweep of the palace, checking out her favorite haunts. The library was a bust, so was the gym. He had checked the kitchens to see if she had swooped in for a snack or something sweet, but she wasn’t there either. Rowan luckily ran into Aedion, asking the prince if he knew where Aelin was. But her cousin hadn’t seen her at all that morning.

With each failed attempt at finding them, Rowan’s fears steadily crept up. It wouldn’t be much longer before they had wrapped themselves around his throat and pulled him deep into their depths.

He took a long breath to center himself before striding out into the gardens. His heart started beating faster, not seeing any sign of her at first. Rowan’s fingers curled into tight fists as he stepped over fresh, green grass. Gods, where were they? If something had happened to them…

But before Rowan’s fears could conquer him, he heard a soft voice on the summer breeze. A familiar voice at that. Relief washed through him, heavenly and soothing, as he followed that melodic sound.

It was Aelin. It didn’t take him long to realize that she was reading one of Eliora’s favorite books to her. It was a silly tale, and it was made even more vivid when Aelin told it. She was an excellent story-teller. They didn’t know how much Eliora really understood, whether she just liked the brightly colored pictures or the faces her mother would make when she told it. Regardless, it always made the little princess smile.

Rowan rounded a hedge, a warmth spreading through his chest at the sight before him.

Aelin had spread out a large quilt under the shade of a willow. Some of Eliora’s toys were scattered about, but currently, the toddler sat in her mother’s lap, wide-eyes glued on the book before her.

Rowan couldn’t help but think Aelin looked stunning today. Her golden hair was left loose, swaying on the breeze, the summer sun bringing a healthy flush to her cheeks. She wore a silky, pale blue wrap-dress, bare feet tucked beneath her as she read. Eliora looked mighty charming too in a bright pink dress with a matching bow.

Rowan strolled towards them, Aelin’s eyes jumping towards him as she noticed his presence. A huge smile broke out on her stunning face.

“You’re home!” she greeted, putting the book she had been reading aloud down. Eliora, no longer entertained by her mother’s storytelling, crawled over the quilt to grab one of her brightly colored toys. “I thought you were going to call me when you landed?”

“I did, Fireheart,” Rowan said. He lowered herself behind Aelin on the blanket, his wife situated between his legs, before wrapping his arms tightly around her and tugging her back into his chest securely. “You left your phone in our room.”

Rowan placed a lingering kiss on Aelin's shoulder, breathing in her scent deeply. She was safe, in his arms, Eliora happy as can be, sticking her toys in her mouth. Everything was fine.

Aelin turned in his arms slightly, brows knitted slightly. Rowan knew she could see right through him.

“What is it, Ro?”

“It’s nothing, love.”

Aelin narrowed her eyes at him, as if to say, Don’t you lie to me, Buzzard.

Rowan heaved a sigh, reaching out and brushing some of Aelin’s silky hair behind her ear. “It’s just… you didn’t answer me when I called, and I couldn’t find you and Eliora when I got back. I just couldn’t help but think…” His hand drifted until it rested on Aelin’s abdomen, right over the scar she bore from fighting her way to freedom. He saw understanding on his wife’s face.

“We’re here, Rowan. We’re safe.” She placed a gentle hand on Rowan’s cheek, bringing his gaze towards her.

“I know,” Rowan whispered, jaw clenched. “But sometimes, I just worry that when I open my eyes, this will all turn out to be a dream. And I’ll lose you all over again.”

Aelin took his hand, giving it a firm squeeze. “This is real, Rowan. We both fought for this life, for each other. And nothing, nothing, is going to take it away. Ever.”

Rowan saw the determination blazing in Aelin’s eyes. She was right, of course. This was their life now, they had built their happiness bit by bit, even when so much seemed to want to go wrong. But Aelin and Eliora… they were everything to him. He didn’t know if he would ever be able to banish his fears entirely, but he would treasure every moment he spent with them.

Rowan leaned in, kissing Aelin softly before murmuring against her lips, “I missed you.”

She smiled, kissing him again. “I missed you too, Ro.”

They indulged in a few more slow, sweet kisses before loud babbling sounded, tiny hands twisting into Rowan’s trouser. He looked down, finding Eliora’s wide eyes looking up at him, flashing a gummy smile.

Aelin laughed. “It looks like someone else missed you, too.”

Rowan grinned, reaching out and picking up his daughter. He held her up high, making her release the sweetest little laughs, little legs kicking in delight. He kissed Eliora all over her little face before tucking her in one arm, throwing the other around Aelin. Immense love and devotion flowed through him, holding his two girls close.

No wonder why he had been so impatient to get home.

#rowaelin #my writing #one night standards #its cute :)#love this au #what if i just changed the names and some details and turned it into a book

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thefallenbibliophilequote · 4 years

Text

If you’ll have me

Bucky x insecure!reader

Summary: my entry to “The Other Punk’s 500 Writing Challenge” by the lovely @buckys-other-punk I chose the prompt: “I want you to remember: you deserve this”

The reader moves to the avengers compound, she soon learns how easy it is to fall for a certain supersoldier and how easy it is to give into the lies your brain tells you, and how hard it is to see your own worth in a building full of superheroes.

Warning: panic attacks, self-image issues, anxiety, bad writing, fluff of course, all the themes from the 2012 avengers mindset, endgame!steve is non-existent and everyone is alive bc wow I changed the timeline!

Word count: 4,677

A/N: this prompt could have gone in a spideypool comic kinda way- sarcastic and witty and funny; Or in the direction that I took, I’m at a rough spot so I decided to write the kind of fic that I could use right now. This is the first time I’m sharing my writing, to anyone. So hopefully my nerves won’t be the death of me.

A/N 2: so, I planned this to be around 2k but it got out of hand and the characters did whatever they wanted, I had no control and so the plot is different than what I originally thought.

—

You can’t say no to Tony Stark, you learned that very early on in your friendship. It was absolutely impossible. So when he out of the blue showed up at your apartment at 2am with a request to move out of your house and into the Avengers compound… you knew there was no way out.

Unlike your best friend, you were more introverted, the thought of moving into a big compound full of superheroes and gods was scary for a civilian. But tony needed you, and you are nothing if not loyal to him.

Ever since the fight between tony and Steve, he told you how lonely he felt in the big tower, after they made peace and settled back into the tower- even though they talked it out and were understanding, tony wanted you around.

“It’s to ease the tension, you are easy to get along with, they will all love you. And you got me to talk about my emotions so maybe you could help them. A little normal in our chaotic life, it’s purely logical.” He said to you, but you could read him better than that. Yes, his argument was logical, but he just wanted a friend.

So of course, you agreed. Working for Pepper was so much better than your old stupid job, she was an angel compared to your mean boss. So a month later you moved into the compound and settled in with Pepper on your new job as her assistant.

When you first met the infamous Winter Soldier he was back from a visit to Wakanda just a few days after you moved in. You noticed his left arm was different from what you’ve seen on the news- it was now black and a little golden, no red star in sight.

He was laughing with The Falcon and ran his fingers through his short hair when tony walked with you into the common room his arm around your shoulder as you walked towards the two avengers. Tony told you everything, so you knew about their past and while he told you how they both decided to move on from that you where still a little nervous.

“Y/N meet: Birdie and Spiky.” Tony gestured forward as he took you to meet the two avengers “Guys, this is the incredible Y/N.”

“I’m Sam, pleasure to meet you.” He nodded to you and shook your hand “this is Spiky.”

“Spiky? Really Tony, you could do better than that, my hair is not that spiky.” He shook his head but you could hear the amusement in his voice. That was a good sign you thought, but that was before he looked at you and you saw his eyes, the blue piercing through your soul. “I’m Bucky.”

“Y/N” you raised your left hand to shake his, you could see a slight tension forming in his eyes as he raised his vibranium hand to meet yours, eyes studying you. You smiled at him.

He flashed you a smile that made your heart skip a bit. This is definitely going to be a problem.

“Are you a new recruit?” Sam had asked you then.

“Oh no, I’m just a friend.” You looked at tony with a smirk “apparently this guy can’t function without me so I decided to move here, for the sake of saving the world from the worst cook ever.”

“It was one time Y/N! I did not mean to blow up your microwave.” Tony looked betrayed as he looked at you.

“I present to you one of the world’s greatest mechanics ladies and gentlemen!” you waved your hands towards Tony. You could see the amusement in his eyes, giving in his failed look of annoyance.

“I already regret my decision,” he groaned and rolled his eyes at you. “I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

“Well, it was very nice to meet you Y/N,” Bucky redirected the conversation to you again, A sincere look on his face. “I hope we will see you around more then.”

“Unfortunately, we have to go, Cap is waiting for us.” Sam nodded towards you and Tony. You returned a goodbye before tony swept you away to show you his new project.

“What was it back there lover boy?” Sam teased Bucky when you were out of earshot. Bucky looked back at you and shook his head.

“Don’t know what you are talking about, Wilson.”

“Sure” Sam laughed at him but let it go.

As much as you hated to admit that tony was right, it didn’t take long for the team to warm up to you and take you as one of their own. Two weeks later and you found your place there. Natasha and you became quite close as you, Wanda, and Pepper occasionally had girls night.

Tony was smug all day long when one day at the lab Bruce told you that you’re very calming to have around. When Steve and Sam agreed and said it could have a good effect on the team Tony’s smugness somehow increased. It was very annoying. No one should ever let Tony be proved right.

Thor was the biggest puppy you have ever met, basically a Labrador. You found out his slight obsession with pop tarts, and you took it on yourself to educate him on some pop culture because let’s be honest who would turn down an opportunity to watch your favorite movies with someone who wouldn’t object to any of them. When you one time watched the Sherlock Holmes movie with Thor and Steve came in and said he didn’t watch it, you decided it is absolutely essential to have a movie night. You found Clint in the vents shouting an agreement to you.

Even though you managed to befriend Thor, Loki and you soon became good friends. He appreciated your skill of lie detecting and you two often sat and read books together.

Then there was Bucky, your friendship started to form when you joined in on a prank on Sam. You and Bucky ran so fast, dying of laughter, as Sam chased you around with his brand new sparkly pink wings.

From there you friendship blossomed, but to your dismay so did your little crush. It started from invitations to go on walks, to him coming to your door in the dead of the night in seek for comfort after a nightmare. You always let him in. you’d listen to him if he wanted you to, and you distracted him when he didn’t.

Your best friend never showed up to breakfast so you’d sit next to Bucky instead. In movie nights you found Bucky saving you a seat next to him every time until he didn’t have to, it was a silent agreement amongst the team.

You never would have expected the next development though: Bucky was a cuddler. It started small, a hand on the small of your back in the morning when he entered the kitchen. Then an arm in the dark around your shoulder, stroking your arm as you all sat and watched a movie.

“Can I just maybe lie down?” he asked one night. It was 3am and the dark circles under his eyes made your heart ache. You just nodded but were surprised at his actions. You assumed he meant to lie down on the bed rather than sitting against the headboard. He lowered himself on the bed and put his head on your thighs and began to talk to you. You got over your momentary shock to listen to what he wants to talk about, absentmindedly you found yourself stroking his short hair. It was soft and from his content sigh he seemed to enjoy it too.

Imagine the Fourth of July. Now, imagine it with a bit more… Tony. That’s exactly what happened to Steve’s birthday party. Tony told you all about what he was planning weeks before, and you two worked about it endlessly since then. You were a bit annoyed at first, it was way too extravagant to your taste but now that you’re standing at the entrance, looking down from the stairs at all the people there, you couldn’t help but feel proud. The people there varied, from the avengers to the agents you didn’t recognize and all sorts of people who you assumed were high profiled? Never the one to initiate a conversation with a stranger you went ahead to the bar to try and find Tony.

Instead, at the bar you found Natasha who sat there with a drink, scaring away anyone who tried to bother her, you of course she welcomed.

“I’m so glad you came! I know it’s not really your thing but this place looks amazing, so is your dress!” Natasha gashed at you.

“You look absolutely incredible Nat!” you took in her tight short stress and how well she looked in it, she was your friend but you could feel the discomfort start to grow. You smoothed down your skirt. “Do you know where tony is?”

“he is probably talking to some rich assholes who are leaning in to his every word” she joked with you, “I think I saw him with our birthday boy so maybe you should ask him.” She nodded to behind you.

“Steve! Happy birthday!” you rushed to hug him. “How do you like the party?”

“Well, tony sure has expensive taste, it’s lovely Y/N.” America’s golden boy smiled at you.

“Speaking of tony, have you seen him?”

“Yeah, he was actually looking for you earlier, he’s right there.” Steve pointed to the other side of the room where tony stood with Pepper, surrounded by a group of people.

With a short thank you, you attempted to make your way there, casting tens of apologies as you tried to shuffle through the dancing crowd. From the corner of your eye you spotted Bucky, sitting on the couch next to a girl who was basically sitting in his lap, you saw the smile on his face, you never saw that kind of smile on him before. In an attempt to ignore the twist in your stomach, you continued pushing people until you found Tony, surrounded by a whole new group now. When he noticed you and the look on your face, he whispered to Pepper who then diverted the conversation away from Tony- who slipped away towards you.

“Hey darling, I tried to find you earlier.” He told you as he gave you a hug.

“It took me a little longer to get ready I guess.” You looked behind you to see Bucky still with that girl, you adjusted your dress.

Tony took in your actions. He knew you too well.

“Do you want to go outside, a little bit of fresh air could help?”

“No, no you love these parties! I can’t take you away from that.” You dismissed it quickly.

“Well fine, if you want me to enjoy it so much then dance with me.” He dragged you to the DJ and you heard him ask for a couple of slower songs, and then dragged you to the middle of the dance floor. You heard your favorite song playing and tony enveloped you in his arms, immediately comforting you. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“There isn’t really much to talk about, you know how sometimes these parties can trigger me. Sometimes it can make a person like me feel a bit inadequate I guess.” You leaned your head on his chest.

“You’re better than all of these people sweetheart, you’re my best friend tell me who made you feel like this and I will personally give them a free ride to Antarctica.” You could see him doing that which made you laugh.

“With all the penguins? That sounds fun though.” You argued.

“Oh you’re right. I guess I’ll have to think of a different place then. Do you think Barnes would like the desert? I mean with that metal arm it must heat up-”

“Wait what? Why would you say Bucky?” that sneaky son of a bitch.

“Come on, I saw you look at him, did he make you feel bad?” tony looked you in the eyes this time, sincere.

“No,” you shrugged. “I just saw Nat and all these beautiful agents and then I saw him with one and I guess it just made me feel bad way too fast. He didn’t do anything wrong.”

Some days were worse than others, some days it was just a few passing thoughts, some it was thunder and dark lingering clouds.

“Well, there isn’t a point in me telling you how gorgeous you are because you will never believe me, even though you are and I should probably get you an eye doctor, maybe schedule something with Dr. Cho. Anyway, if this is because of Barnes, then I can assure you he only has eyes for you.”

“I don’t need an eye doctor!” you hit his arm and laughed, before putting your head back on his chest. “And about the other thing, I doubt that. I think maybe he should be with someone more like him, which makes more sense.” You still looked around, not seeing Bucky anywhere.

“I don’t think you should make any sort of decision when you’re this anxious. I don’t think you’re capable of clear judgment in this situation darling.” He said to you quietly, worried overtones in his voice.

“I’m fine Tony, I’m not that anxious.”

“your hands are shaking Y/N…” as he told you that, you looked at the hand you put on his chest, his hand now cradled it as you saw it shaking. How did you not notice it? When tony saw as you realized what was happening he knew there was no room for argument. “I’m taking you away.”

You put up no fight as he quickly managed to take you away without drawing too much attention. You didn’t see Bucky searching for you in the crowd after that.

Bucky sat there on the couch, happy for his best friend as he enjoyed his party. He was smiling uncomfortably as the girl next to him scooted closer to him. His mental health got a lot better, and his confidence grew- he felt the man he once was but newer, most of the time. Big crowds still managed to get to him though. He nodded along to the girl next to him who refused to call him anything but James, he tried to be polite. He hated the crowds, you would know that. He thought. Then he heard your favorite song playing from the far side of the room, there he finally saw you, dancing with Tony. He knew tony was your best friend, but he still felt a tug at his heart as you put your head near his arc reactor.

He has been pondering on when to tell you about his feelings for you, confident that you wouldn’t turn him down. The two of you grew so close, you were an absolute angel to him. He saw you hit Tony’s arm and suddenly his smile turned genuine. He knew you felt the same way as him, it was hard to ignore. You seemed almost as happy as he is when the two of you are alone. Maybe he could tell you tonight.

“James? Are you even listening to me?” the girl called him.

“Yes, sorry, your name is August right?” she nodded at him. “Sorry but I have to go, I have a couple of things to do.” He got up then and went towards where he last saw you, but you where nowhere to be found.

The next day tony seemed to be stuck at your side, you tried to tell him that you’re fine but he insisted to “borrow you from Pepper because he needs an assistant.” Or so he claims. Apparently he needed an assistant to buy him ice cream in your favorite flavor or to cook him a meal which coincidentally happens to be your favorite desert- to give him credit he did try to help but he might have tried to mix the eggs with the flour and got it all over the counter. You burst into a fit of laughter and he told F.R.I.D.A.Y to order pizza. So, the two of you sat in the kitchen with your pizza, after cleaning the place.

“I might have to borrow you from Pepper more often, you are a great assistant.”

“Yeah, sure” you played along before setting your pizza down. “Thank you Tony.”

“Anytime” He smiled at you through a mouthful of pizza.

The kitchen door opened, and in stumbled Steve and Bucky, who for once slept in today.

“Well hello boys, what got you looking so bad?” Tony smirked at them.

“It’s all Thor’s fault, he brought the Asgardian mead.” Steve said, you laughed at his hangover state, it was rare but precious.

“Hey doll, I didn’t get to talk to you yesterday, couldn’t find you.” He smiled at you, his rough voice nearly killed you- you were certain. You looked over at tony as you stumbled over what to say.

“We left early, she claimed I was too drunk and should get some air.” He winked at you “isn’t she just the best Barnes?” he then looked at Bucky; you swear you hated him sometimes.

“An absolute angel,” Bucky replied, assessing tony. “But you seem okay enough.”

“Yes well I tried telling her, but she insisted.” Tony easily replied and matched Bucky’s stare.

“How did you manage to get him to actually listen to you Y/N? That’s impressive.” Steve commented, oblivious to the slight tension as he made coffee.

“Years of practice I guess, it is hard to accomplish because he sure can be an ass sometimes.” You kicked Tony under the table to look at you. He only smiled.

“Capcicle doesn’t like that kind of language Y/N.” you heard Steve groaning as he put a coffee cup in front of Bucky who was seated next to you, and sat in front of him next to tony.

“That happened years ago Tony!”

“Doll, I was wondering if you wanted to watch a movie later maybe?” Bucky leaned in to ask you, before you could answer though, Steve spoke up.

“Why is there flour on the counter?”

“On your ass too, you picked the wrong chair.” Tony helpfully chimed in “you know, those pants do nothing for your ass.”

“Tony messed up the kitchen, I guess we didn’t clean it all.” You said apologetically and got up. “I actually have a lot of things to do for Pepper today, since tony stole me, so I should probably go start on that.” You exited the room, looking forward to a distraction at work.

“Tony, you know you shouldn’t cook!” Steve patted the chair, and then sat on it again.

“Hey, I was only trying to help Y/N in baking a cake, I had good intentions!” tony defended.

“Why was she making a cake in the afternoon?”

“Relax Barnes, I asked her to bake me a cake but when it tragically somehow blew up we settled on pizza.” Tony lifted up his slice of pizza in proof. “Why do you care anyway?”

“What kind of question is that?” Bucky looked at him quizzically. “Tony, is there some sort of a problem?”

“I’m just asking, why do you care about her?” Steve noticed the change in the question but Bucky just looked confused.

“I care about her because she is my friend, just like the rest of you here!” Bucky was getting angry by the second, where was this all coming from?

“Yes, but do you care about her only as a friend?” tony asked and this time Bucky noticed the change and his anger all melted away.

“No.” he admitted, not bothering to hide it. “Were you just trying to get me to confess my feelings?”

“They learn things so fast, don’t they Steve?” he looked at an amused Steve who just nodded.

“Even I couldn’t get him to say something. Good job Tony.”

“Okay, I am leaving, this is clearly an ambush.” Bucky left the kitchen then.

Bucky was headed to his room to clear his head, hoping you won’t be as busy tomorrow. He was in the hallway when he passed your room, it was then that he heard your TV on; he recognized the theme song of Brooklyn Nine-Nine playing. Why were you watching TV when you said you’re working? Bucky went to his room and decided to let it go.

For the next week Bucky studied your moves carefully. You started to avoid going out with him, making excuses that he could easily read as lies. At night you accepted him with open arms to talk about his nightmares, but he noticed you smiled less now. When movie night came along he found the seat next to him empty as you sat next to tony, he wasn’t the only one to notice it. That was it for him.

“Nat,” he found Natasha the next day alone in the common room. “Do you know if Y/N is upset with me?”

“Probably, yes, I don’t know why though.” Natasha shrugged.

“I don’t know what I did, she is still nice to me but she avoids even being in the same room as me.” Bucky sat next to her. The assassin put her book down finally and paid attention to Bucky. “I don’t know what to do; I can’t accuse her of anything. I just feel something is wrong. We were really close.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing major, you should talk to her.” Natasha put her hand on his, to try and comfort her friend. She’s seen the way you looked at each other, it was impossible to miss the connection.

You entered the room, unaware of the conversation until you looked up and the two avengers stopped talking and looked at you, but you looked at the position they were in, you were clearly interrupting a private conversation.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize you were here. Sorry, I’ll leave you two alone.” You exited the room before Bucky even stood up, he came to seat back down but Nat kicked him.

“What are you doing? Go and talk to her!” she all but commanded him. He wasn’t going to fight Natasha, that’s just a lost cause.

You were safe in your room, it was all fine. Everything was fine. You couldn’t have expected that falling for an avenger would be a good idea. They are different from you, you’re just… you. They are superheroes. Everyone in the building is either a highly trained agent or one of the top scientists in the world. You were just Tony’s friend, here to support him and maybe bring some normalcy to the superheroes. How could you possibly compete with all that? Your lungs felt too tight, it’s like you could barely breathe.

“Miss Y/N I am recognizing symptoms of a possible panic attack, would you like me to call Mr. Stark?” F.R.I.D.A.Y called to you, snapping you out of your daze.

“No, don’t call tony, or anyone, can you just talk me through breathing?” the AI complied until you managed to calm down and get your breathing right. Bless Tony Stark, anxiety can fuck off.

“Miss, Sergeant Barnes is requesting to open the door; I have shut it alongside any outside noise, would you like me to lift it?”

“Yes F.R.I.D.A.Y, thank you.” You could handle it. You opened the door to see a frustrated Bucky. “Hi Bucky, what do you need?”

Bucky just stepped right into your room and shut the door behind him.

“I need you to tell me what did I do wrong?”

“What? You didn’t do anything wrong.” You were confused now.

“Then why the hell are you avoiding me? I thought you were happy, I thought you wanted me around.” Oh, how could you explain this to him without him taking pity on you?

“Of course I want you around Bucky, it’s okay it’s not that. I’m just giving you space. It’s alright.” You tried to assure him, while also hoping you could convince yourself.

“Giving me space? Doll I don’t want space away from you. Why are you pulling away from me?” he reached for your hand, his metal arm trying to bring you closer.

“Bucky, really it’s alright. Just let this go.” You pleaded him.

“No it’s not alright, I’m not alright. Because the woman I’m in love with is pushing me away and I don’t know what to do to bring her back to me!” He confessed to you, the frustration in his voice gave away to the longing look in his blue eyes.

“You- you what?” you stopped trying to resist him, your shock letting him pull you closer, he was holding both your arms now, keeping you close.

“I’m in love with you. Is it really that hard to believe?” He questions, his voice low now, as if someone might hear, and he wanted to keep this intimate moment just for the two of you.

“No.” you said before collecting yourself. “No, you can’t be in love with me.”

“Of course I can, it’s really easy to fall for you doll.” Bucky huffed a laugh. “I thought you felt the same way, do you?”

“I…” Could you really lie to a supersoldier? Would you lie to Bucky? “I do. Of course I do, but you don’t understand. Bucky, you’re a superhero, a supersoldier. I’m on the other hand just a girl with too much anxiety who happens to have the best friend in the world which is why I was even allowed to live here in the first place. You deserve so much better Bucky, you really do. And I- I don’t deserve you.” You hang your head low, if only he could realize that, it will hurt less. Your eyes were watering but you blinked them shut.

Bucky’s right hand came to your chin and held it up. You are an absolute idiot. Bucky mused at what you said.

“Doll, if there is one thing that I learned in therapy is that even after everything I did, I can still become the man I want to be and I deserve to get happiness. You make me so happy doll, you really do. But you deserve happiness too. Tell me, do I make you happy?”

“Yes, very much. But-”

“No. You deserve all the love and happiness in the world and if you’ll have me, I promise to keep you happy, always. I know I can’t solve anxiety, I have it too. But you help me with it, so I’ll do whatever I can to help you.”

You looked into the sea in his eyes, trying to find any doubt, but all you found was determination to make you understand, to make you believe it. And for a moment you did. That was all it took.

“If you’ll have me, I promise to make you happy and make sure you are loved, always.” You whispered. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me, I just- I want you to remember, you deserve this. Whether it’s happiness with me or with someone else. You deserve to be loved by your friends, and if it’s here than this is your home and we’re your family. You deserve love and support and if it’s me then please, will you have me?”

“Yes. I don’t want anyone else.”

The next thing you knew, his lips crushed into yours, pouring out all of your emotion to the kiss. This feels right, this is right. Maybe you’re worthy of a happy ending after all. Maybe you’ll find it right here, in this compound, with Bucky.

Little did you know, in the far away land that is Tony’s messy lab, F.R.I.D.A.Y notified him per his request about your panic attack. Now, with the monitors turned on, he watched the two of you with a smile at his lips.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y? Tell Steve he owes me 20 bucks.”

#bucky #bucky x reader #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #writing challenge #fluff #bucky x insecure!reader #bucky fluff #otherpunks500 #my writing

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mrskurono · 3 years

Text

As I continue down the stupid road of rewatching/chronologically watching My Hero Academia. All I can dwell on in the zesty sour 'n sweetness of canon complimentary potential "Big Three" au of childhood friends, Bakugou/Reader/Izuku, dwindling down to utter strangers to one another, struggling their sperate ways and angst filled hurt of learning their individual place within hero society.

But as it's something I will probably never write (or if do not post here), I'll just word vomit some headcanons! Bc that's all I can do. Vomit words.

warnings: angst, reader w/a strength related quirk, childhood friends to enemies type of deal, headcanon format, canon complimentary, unedited

Bakugou would still be the catalyst of the crack in the elementary school friendship from the go.

Getting his quirk first but the reader is close to follow like most kids. Leaving Izuku the odd man out and the 'weak' link in the triad.

Reader's quirk would have something to do with strength/outward appearance of strength, essentially solidifying to Bakugou that the two of them are deemed to be successful while Izuku isn't slated for the same fate.

A real "us vs them" in Bakugou's mind while Izuku obsesses over quirks and Reader attempts to keep what they had going while being pulled in two different directions.

Izuku without a quirk meant Bakugou would theoretically be the only one applying to U.A.

Reader doesn't hold similar sentiments in hero work as either of them while still maintaining a fairly useful quirk.

Backlash from Bakugou for being "wasteful" and admiration/fixation from Izuku who over talks the Reader's quirk.

The offer All Might gives Izuku to inherit One for All + the sludge villain attack is the straw that breaks the camels back in the delicate balance between the three of them.

Izuku's time is taken up with All Might's plan, which leads the Reader to lean into helping Izuku a little more (e.g. taking notes for him if he dozes in class, studying more with Izuku, bringing up the fact they might try applying to U.A. too then)

Bakugou's time is spent dwelling on the sludge attack and the fact the Reader is spending more than anyone's fair share of time with Izuku of all people.

With failed attempts to show he 'needs a friend' leaves Bakugou with a bitter taste for the Reader. Not answering his texts for long periods, blowing him off to hang out when Reader say they're busy (which isn't a lie), mentioning U.A. to him, all of which he quickly connects to Deku wasting time and only riles him up more.

Izuku with his tunnel vision to reach his goal to be a hero. And Bakugou with his cold shoulder to ignore everything that's happening around him. And the Reader spilt between finding the right place for them and their beliefs while also hanging onto friends.

Which means applying to U.A. separates the three of you even more.

The entrance automatically exams separated school mates. Izuku in group A, Bakugou in group B and Reader in group C.

Three of them past. And the three of them end up in class 1A. For better or worse.

Izuku doesn't want to be in a class with Bakugou. Bakugou doesn't want Izuku to be at the school. The reader is trying to level the playing field since everyone has a quirk, things should return back to normal right?

It doesn't.

Before they're enrolled in U.A. post exam, and Bakugou corners Izuku demanding what he did to get in, what's going on and how he was going to be the first and only from their school to get into U.A.

That's when Izuku snaps. The spiel about someone telling him how he can be a hero + that the reader deserves to be in U.A. just as much for being strong if not stronger.

Bakugou snaps/lets it slip that he's the strongest and that their friend (the reader) is only stupidly endangering their lives entering U.A. because Izuku caused it.

Only deepening the rivalry between these two without the Reader really knowing what's going on.

Things like the strength tests and mock battles come up and it just keeps getting worse.

Going from neutral to Reader trying to defend Izuku.

Bakugou getting pissed in front of the class and snapping at the Reader as well.

At some point it boils over and the Reader and Bakugou end up in a fight.

One of pure just pent up malice. Neither of them even remembering to use their quirk in the heat of the moment and leading to the teachers having to pull them off each other.

Izuku is panicked but they get sent to recovery girl in the middle of class together.

When sitting and waiting for a check up, that's when Bakugou really eats his own words.

Insulting the Readers quirk, why they waste time on Izuku of all people and worst of all insinuating that the way they look/appearance makes them unlikable even if they try to kiss ass and help everyone.

That's when the rift snaps in half. Bakugou rightfully regretting his words toward his long time friend but not taking them back as sides are picked right then and there. Bakugou thinks that it'll make them stop helping Izuku/quit hero work but it does the opposite.

The cordial manners between Bakugou and Reader are gone right there.

At some point Izuku will fuck up. Focus on too many other things. Repeatedly hurt himself. Ignore the Reader in favor of his dreams. Without realizing it.

His actions not malicious like Bakugou's but just as hurtful in the long run.

Coming to a head when it's revealed the Reader felt the need to placate and take care of Izuku throughout the years. Protect him from bullies and keep a smile on their face to counter Izuku's nerves. But they don't believe a lick of it. Or heroes. Bc if heroes really meant a thing then Bakugou wouldn't have almost died the day of the sludge attack or heroes wouldn't do it all for fame.

Leading them butting heads on what their end goal is. Isolating their own friendship as well.

Not as drastically as Bakugou and the Reader. But leading to them drifting apart for longer than friends should.

idk man i have a lot of brain rot about this trio </3 that I'll never write </3 might add more as they come along

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #deku #bakugou #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #midoriya hcs #bakugou hcs

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adorethedistance · 4 years

Text

Something to Lose - Luke Patterson X Covington!Reader

JATP masterlist

Requested: luke imagine idea so Luke’s old gf is dead and she’s calebs daughter and is trying to get him to stay with her instead of cross over and then he doenst show up in stand tall . I just had this idea and near had a fit trying to get it down love ur writing also 💖

Warnings: angst, a lot of crying, I don’t even think there’s swearing in this one.

Words: 2293

A/n: I hope I did the request justice. This was kinda stressful the entire time writing it just bc of all the ideas that came. Like I’d be writing and then my brain would be like ‘hey what if this happened’ and then I’m like ‘oh that’s evil. put it in the fic.’ you know?

I begin nervously playing with the tulle skirt of my above-the-knee length party dress. I wanted a mini but dad refused to let me be visible to ghosts and lifers in anything ‘revealing’, so we compromised on above the knee. It’s a pretty dress, the black long sleeves are sheer and the back is completely open, and that’s as scandalous as dad would allow. Ironic considering his dancers’ costumes are cut out fringe leotards and nude tights.

And speaking of dancers,

“Who was that?” I ask Francesca as she comes to stand next to me by the black music stands, branded with the infamous Hollywood Ghost Club logo.

“Who was who?”She takes a tiny sip of water and readjusts her massive blue and purple feather headdress. Dad always chooses the most extravagant costumes. Sometimes I wonder how they’re able to dance without falling over from being so… top heavy I guess?

“That guy you were dancing in front of in the denim coat?”

“What are you talking about? I was dancing in front of Willie.”

“Nice try, I know that was Angie. Maybe next time.” On the first day the girls set foot in the place they were such amazing dancers, dad invited them to perform front and center if they wanted to join the club. The downside was he could never tell them apart. I don’t know how though, they’re not indiscernibly identical. I made it my goal to always be able to tell them apart, and they made it their goal to get me to mix them up just once.

“We’re gonna get you one of these days.”

“Yeah, sure. But, uh, do you know who he is?”

“I don’t but maybe you will?”

“What?” Glancing up to Fran’s face she gives me a look and directs me with her eyes before smiling smugly and walking away. I follow her gaze to see my dad standing on the far side of their table, talking with the attractive stranger. His excitement makes his every movement animated and he can’t even seem to string a coherent sentence. Inviting them to sit down, dad starts saying something about Willie and magic? The conversation doesn’t last long and once he leaves, I debate whether or not to approach the handsome stranger.

“Who are we looking at?” I’m startled when I hear Angie’s voice in my right ear.

“Oh. The one at the front table in the denim overcoat.”

“You mean the one Franny was dancing in front of?”

“She already tried that.”

“Dammit!” I laugh at yet another failed attempt.

“I don’t even know why you guys bother anymore.”

“Whatever. Why are we staring at him?”

“I’m debating whether or not I should talk to him.” Angie sends me a look that says ‘have more faith in yourself’ which I gleefully ignore.

“Shoot your shot. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“My dad could interrupt and say something totally embarrassing. He wasn’t done talking to them, he just had to do rounds.”

“Girl, have you seen how many people are here tonight? He’s not gonna be done any time soon, so go while you still have some time!” Angie punctuates her sentence by gently pushing me forward, and I stumble in the direction of the cute stranger. The sudden jerky movement seems to catch his attention and his eyes soften once they meet mine. He smiles softly as a greeting and when I return the look, he takes that as an invitation to walk my way. I’m standing in the middle of the dance floor, frozen partially out of fear and partly out of curiosity.

“Hey, I’m Luke,” denim extends his hand politely and… extremely flusteredly? He sounds breathless and a touch fearful. I’m used to the energy as the club intimidates first-timers. I take his hand,

“Y/n.” Omitting my last name tends to do me a lot of good.

“Wow. That’s really pretty,”

“It’s nothing special.”

“You’re really pretty.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

“So, uh-“ he trails off in search of a conversation starter, “What brings you to the Hollywood Ghost Club?”

“Oh, you know... just uhm- just a night out.”

“Do you come to the Club a lot?”

“You could say that. It’s pretty much a second home.”

“Y/n, darling. There you are!” Luke watches my face drop from its pleasant ‘chatting with guests’ expression, to a relaxed almost-frown.

“Here I am.”

“And I see you’ve met Luke.”

“Yes sir.”

“I trust my daughter is keeping you in good company?”

“Your daughter?” Luke nearly chokes on the mystical air of the Hollywood Ghost Club.

“I did not choke!”

“You choked.” Luke and I argue over the details of how we met, in the backstage/dressing room area of the Club. It feels like lifetimes ago, but it wasn’t. And yet in such a short time, we had become completely infatuated and comfortable with one another. So much so that me wearing a floor-length evening gown and jewels doesn’t make me feel out of place with his jeans and flannel shirt.

Despite my light laughter, Luke’s face is fairly flat. He’s beginning to stare off into space, inattentive from our lull in the conversation.

“Hey, you okay?” He snaps back into reality.

“Uh, yeah.”

“You don’t sound so sure.” After a long moment of hesitation, he begins to speak, not looking up from the scuff on the linoleum flooring.

“Y/n, I have something to tell you.”

“What’s up?”

“The boys and I… We… we have unfinished business…”

“Of course you do. That’s why you’re here- why all of us are here.”

“We’re gonna play the Orpheum tonight. At seven.”

“That’s so cool! Tha-” I feel my words trapped in my throat. “That’s your unfinished business... Play the show you never got to before you died.” I feel a well of tears flooding my bottom lash line. They’re not tears of sadness. “That’s your unfinished business. And you’re playing there tonight. Why didn’t you tell me as soon as you found out?!” I cry out in anguish. Luke’s face falls from a somber reluctance to break the news, to utter heartbreak.

“Y/n, I-”

“I thought we had something.”

“We do!”

“Then why would you wait to tell me until,” I check the analog clock on the wall behind him, “An hour before you go?!”

“I wanted to enjoy our last day together without having to think about it. I didn’t think it’d make you this angry.”

“Well, I am angry, Luke!” My sentence is punctuated by Luke getting zapped by a jolt of electricity. He groans as he tries to remain standing upright. The tears streaming down my face slow from a mix of anger to extreme worry.

“What the fuck was that?”

“Your dad gave us a ‘club stamp’ that first night we left.” My face falls slack as I register what he’s just said. Without another word, I furiously push out of my chair and out of the dressing room. Each stride is larger than the last as I let my legs carry me into the wings of the Club’s circular stage. When I have the familiar silver tinsel entrance in sight, I stop cold in my tracks. In front of me stands Alex, in a dazzling pink coat and diamond-covered oxfords, and Reggie, in a luxurious red vest and coat covered in black floral detailing. In front of them stands my father in his extravagant purple number that’s reminiscent of his outfits he wore when performing.

My frustrated steps carried me into his sight and the volume of my strides drew the two boys’ attention behind them. Luke. Luke stupidly followed me out here, and father merely looks at me and blinks authoritatively before redirecting his gaze onto my boyfriend.

“There you are. I knew I was missing a third musketeer.” With a snap of his fingers, dad has poofed Luke out from behind me and poofs him back in between his bandmates. When he reappears he’s wearing a deep blue suit with a black, tiered chiffon collar and bowtie.

“Isn’t it nice that you’re all here together?” Dad launches into his huge speech, seemingly convincing them to stay at the club. He mentions everything they want can be theirs here like Willie, the glory of performing, connection with an audience. As he speaks, he steps forward and reaches up. I go to yell and reach for Luke, but nothing comes out. There’s no sound coming from my mouth, and the undersurface of my black heels feel frozen solid to the ground. Dad notices my movement and shoots me a look to knock it off. Luke sees and as he moves to turn his head, dad reaches up to keep his focus forward before adjusting Luke’s collar for him. He continues with his big speech as another jolt graces all three boys at once.

“I suggest you accept my offer because the clock is ticking,” he downs one more sip of water, preparing to perform, “Ouch. You know where to find me.”

When he disappears onto the stage, I’m released from my spot and the momentum of my struggling launches me forward. Luke turns around just in time to catch me and once he does he doesn’t release me from his arms.

“Luke, I didn’t-”

“Shhh. It’s okay. You’re okay.” He holds me in his arms, one hand on my head to cradle me close to his chest and the other wrapped soothingly around my waist.

“He’s right,” I choke out my words through heavy sobs, “You don’t know that the Orpheum is really your unfinished business. What if it’s not? These jolts could kill you, Luke. For good. My dad may be powerful, but he doesn’t have the power to bring you back from this.”

When I look up, Luke has a heartbroken expression painted all over his face. Before I can speak again, Alex poofs out from beside us. Sharing a worried expression, Luke and I look out onto the stage where dad has him soloing front and center.

“I-I-I, I made a-a promise-”

“To Julie, I know. But if she’s really as wonderful, and as kind, and understanding, and loving as you describe her to be, won’t she understand?” Luke’s expression softens in realization.

“You’re actually considering staying with Caleb?” Reggie asks Luke incredulously. Before he can receive an answer, he, too, is poofed out onto the stage in Alex’s previous spot, to play a jazzy bass solo. Luke looks all around the backstage area, at the audience, between his band members, and at my dad. Finally, his eyes settle on mine. I can’t read his expression; I wish I knew what was going on inside his head.

“Stay.”

Luke and I run out of time when dad calls his name. He’s poofed us apart so I’m frozen against the downstage wall, out of sight from the audience, and Luke is struggling his way onto the stage.

Dad has him soloing for the audience, to create a musical dialogue between the two of them. Luke, conflicted, looks between me and my dad unsure of how to feel. The performer side of him must be loving the high that comes with performing in the club, but the loyal side of him, I can tell, is yearning for Julie.

When the song ends, the three boys share a single look of concern and remorse, no doubt for Julie. I can’t help but feel selfish asking him to stay. It’s not fair for me to ask him to choose between me and her... But that’s not what I’m asking. If all three of them stay here, they don’t risk dying for good. Surely Julie can understand choosing life, or the afterlife rather, over freedom is a rational trade.

Coming to his senses Luke runs off stage.

“Y/n-”

“It’s selfish of me to ask you to stay-”

“I’m staying.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to die, Y/n. If that means I have to play in your dad’s band, fine. But at least we can be together.” Luke runs the pad of his thumb across my cheek to wipe away the tear shed out of joy. Our moment is ended when Alex and Reggie have also returned backstage.

“Boys, if we stay here, we’ll get to live and make music for as long as we want.”

“You said it yourself, we made a promise. To Julie.” Reggie almost looks like he wants to cry.

“If this is what you want- to spend eternity playing jazz solos behind Caleb -I can’t stop you. But I’m not gonna let Julie down. Not again.” Alex searches Luke’s face for any hesitation. When he doesn’t find the change of heart he’s looking for, Alex nods and fidgets with his drumsticks in one hand. The sudden swell of emotion leads the two of them to hug each other tightly; I can’t imagine their pain of knowing they might never see each other again. When they let go, Luke and Reggie share in a hug and the heartache pulls Alex into their hug.

“Can you do me a favor?” Luke asks, sniffling away a few tears. Reggie and Alex nod,

“Anything.”

“Will you tell Julie she’s a star for me, one last time?” A sharp jolt hits the three of them in unison once more; a signal that it’s really time to say goodbye. With sorrowful smiles, Alex and Reggie poof out of the Hollywood Ghost Club for the last time.

When he turns around, Luke’s face is red and puffy from crying and the sight breaks my heart clean in half. I pull him into a hug and press a lingering kiss to his cheek.

“I love you, Luke.”

“I love you, Y/n.”

***

A/n: YOWZA this really made my heart hurt for Julie sm. I love her and if this were canon I’d have actually kermit.

Taglist: @caitsymichelle13 @kaitlyn2907 @itz-jas @crybabyddl @kcd15 @kinda-really-lost @calamitykaty @morganayennefertyrell @n0wornever @dream-a-little-bigger-x @mrstodorooki @vicesvsvirturesfanfic @curlybrownhairedboys @amazinggracy @kaitieskidmore1 @asdfghjkl-fanfics @ghostlygreenbean @juliefromaustralia @merceret @jemimah-b99 @ifilwtmfc @thesweetestsinner @imsydneywalker @lovesanimals @thebloodthirstyvampress @bumbleberry-pie @losers-club6 @tefilovesreading @dmcfarland1@joynerxmercer @kexrtiz @talk-on-the-street @phantompogues @konciousdreamer @sunsetcurvej

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galacticlamps · 3 years

Text

im sorry im sorry im sorry i know it’s been well over a year but i accidentally thought about Short Trips: Deleted Scenes (again) and it’s killing me (again) so i think im just gonna go ahead and post all these stupid thoughts that have been plaguing me about it since i first heard it & maybe that’ll help clear up some space in my head for like, real life things.

Spoilers I guess? It’s like a year and a half old but also high key the most recent 2nd doctor content i believe we’ve gotten which is like, the only negative thing I can say about it

The TLDR version is this:

I literally cant believe how sweet it is? Painful, but sweet. Like. I don’t honestly know what’s more likely - did they set out to write Jamie a nice little straight love interest and just fail miserably at it by constantly likening her to the Doctor AND paralleling the Doctor’s perspective with her ex’s AND putting Jamie’s relationships with both of them in direct tension with each other while constantly letting his with the Doctor win out?

OR - did they do a very 1960s thing and say hey we’re gonna write what’s essentially a story about how much Jamie and the Doctor love each other and release it on Valentine’s Day thinly disguised as a one-off romance with a french lady?

Now, as a general rule, my attitude toward questions like that is usually “don’t know, don’t care, doesn’t matter” - and while I 100% stand by that, I also have to admit that this particular audio seems to pay enough attention to detail that I’d kind of think I was selling it short if I assumed too many of these things were just meaningless coincidences, you know?

Anyway, that’s the most coherent/overarching thought. And here’s a disorganized list of things I absolutely cannot get over about it (they don’t form any kind of argument, mind, they just all happen to live rent free in my head):

- Celine is first taken in by Jamie being an idiot (specifically him claiming not to speak French, in perfect French); likewise, her entrance in the scene where they actually kiss is marked with a little anecdote about her hat getting stuck on a doornail and her scolding it as she attempts to fix her un-tameable appearance, and the narration says Celine “would often clown for Jamie like this” - all of which, while undeniably adorable, don’t exactly strike me as entirely original traits to have been assigned to Jamie’s love-interest (but also Celine is so cool and her perspective on film/media/time is an excellent addition to the long list of dr who characters)

- When they’re in the present, describing Jamie’s relationship with Celine in 1908, they call him her “companion” and highlight his going nearly everywhere with her, which earns a laugh from the 4th doctor (and me as well, though probably for slightly different reasons - but like, is that really all it takes to have a fling with someone in 60′s era who? bc if so...)

- Celine’s ex-fiance is still in love with her and is jealously watching when she kisses Jamie ... and then the Doctor appears beside him, evidently doing the exact. same. thing. They have the following conversation:

“You know, it’s not prudent to spy on people. But then, people in pain can’t be expected to act prudently.”

“Pain, monsieur? You mistake me.”

“Ah, do I? Good, because I rather thought you’d lost something.”

“What would you know about loss monsieur?”

- I’m sorry doc but who do you think you are, saying stuff like that and smiling sadly at the floor to boot? I 100% had to pause it here the first time I listened, just to not throw my laptop across the room.

- Then when I recovered continued, the Doctor closes the door so they can’t watch anymore and explains “Possessing things comes so terribly easily to some men that losing them can feel cruel, intolerably cruel. In my experience, only the very best of men cannot be tempted to answer that cruelty with more - I do sincerely hope that you are the best of men.” (guess who gets described as the best of men by the end of the audio?)

- Jamie and the Doctor apparently develop a habit of walking along the river in Paris in silence

- During one such walk, Jamie suggests Celine come with them since she already figured out about the Tardis - and when the Doctor’s worried by this, he says he only allowed Jamie & Celine to grow closer “because of Victoria.” Jamie takes offense at the ‘allowing it’ comment and also refuses to admit he knows what the Doctor means about Victoria, which leads the Doctor to say that he knows how fond Jamie was of her - he was too, of course, but with him, “it was different, wasn’t it?” Jamie only says maybe that’s true and maybe that’s not, but his voice catches until he changes the subject

- Jamie doesn’t see Celine for days both times that she’s recovering from the shock and depression of her work being destroyed. In contrast, when the Doctor’s not well, Jamie’s "afraid” and “guilty” and hardly seems to leave his side at all, if his being there “rushing to embrace him” the second he wakes up - after a period Jamie describes as “at least a week” - is anything to go by, anyway. so either bf writers need to learn how to write a committed straight relationship or admit that’s not what they ever intended in the first place

- Oh yeah, and the Doctor spends that week "asleep” in Jamie’s bedroom - no, there’s no explanation as to if that’s where he was when he first collapsed or if it’s where Jamie decided to take him bc why would they feel the need to explain him being there? why was it even relevant to tell us it was Jamie’s room in the first place?

- The Doctor somehow manages to control the Tardis enough to take Celine on one trip to an alien planet and then return to the correct time & place for her to use the footage she recorded there in her new film - and while the audio doesn’t do very much to explain how that was possible, it does treat this as A Pretty Big Deal, and immediately afterward the Doctor has to spend a week communing with his past self (and/or the Tardis?) debating how likely it is that the Time Lords could use this to trace him. When he decides it’s not worth the risk and they have to stop the film from ever being shown to the public, Jamie asks why he agreed to it in the first place, and all he can say is “Because, Jamie, you asked me to!” earning awkward stares from the crowd.

- Oh, but, lest we forget, that little outburst is also immediately followed by him putting his arm around Jamie’s shoulders, and, shockingly, apparently beginning to actually explain the truth about the danger from the Time Lords - until they’re interrupted, of course idk why exactly but the idea of a 60s dr wanting to come clean with a companion but not being allowed to bc the show demands the war games be something of a reveal hurts me in a very good way

- The mental image of “the Doctor and Jamie, resplendent in borrowed evening wear”

- The audio admitting that Jamie’s not very good at subterfuge, and the Doctor asking if he’s going to be alright with them having to steal the film back from Celine - and Jamie’s little “Aye, Doctor” as he feels a ‘glass arrow piercing his chest’ glad to see bf is reading all my letters about exactly how i feel any time something sad happens to james robert mccrimmon

- The Doctor’s anxious to get out of there for obvious reasons, but he hangs around bc Jamie wants to see Celine again - which doesn’t happen, because of her aforementioned shock & depression, but she does leave Jamie a note that ends “you and that Doctor of yours - look after him Jamie, he loves you dearly, as do I.” yeah, if you didn’t want people to draw a parallel there, you could’ve picked, like, any other wording in the world.

- In case you weren’t fully convinced I’ve been reading too much into this whole audio already, consider this: Celine dies in Long Island in 1968, three days before her birthday - 1968 is when this story would’ve taken place in the show’s history (between Fury & Wheel), and dying three days before/after a birthday in America seems a bit... well I had some deja vu from it, anyway

- Four of all people being the one to bring back the film - I know he does it bc Sarah Jane makes him, but personally, I often feel like despite the length of his run, 4 is the Doctor with which we might’ve gotten the fewest glimpses into his interiority, so the fact that it’s him and not one of the more overtly sentimental Doctors makes it feel like it carries even more weight somehow, to me anyway. I think I wrote a post saying roughly the same thing about 4 & Fate of Krelos/Return to Telos but maybe I only did that inside my own head lol. Still, I’m all for any opportunities for Jamie to be one of the few characters to draw some noticeable emotion out of Four, but in fairness I haven’t touched too much of his EU stuff to really be able to compare the frequency with which this happens with other past companions

- Is Four referring to Two or Jamie when he says he got the film from “an old family friend”? Two did the actual stealing, but he probably means Jamie’s involvement - either way, it’s an interesting way of describing old companions - or selves?

- When Jemima goes to call Jamie a thief, Four is “roused” to defend him: “he really was the very best of men” again, any time four freely shows he cares about someone, im over the moon about it

- Oh ha ha, there’s an audio called “Deleted Scenes” featuring the Doctor who’s most affected by junked episodes. And at the end of it, a character who’s spent her life researching and lecturing about a lost film gets to watch it be ‘rediscovered’ after it’s gone unseen for decades. I feel marginally less stupid for reading into the other details of a story like this when it ends up deciding to be to be clever & slightly meta like that

But yeah

all in all, it’s kind of amazing to me that this genuinely reads like they sat down and said okay boys it’s valentines day, let’s write an audio where jamie kisses a girl, since that hasn’t happened except as a plot device in one story in 1967 - but then when they got down to business they accidentally(?) wrote a story all about how important his bond with the Doctor is and how easily that can be compared to a legitimate love interest (even if the love interest in question is a one off character & the extent of the relationship appears to be like one kiss & then having Jamie spend most of his time around the Doctor instead)

I realize there’s something slightly illogical about writing the words “shipping aside” after a post like this but seriously - no matter how many categories you’re able to see two & jamie’s relationship fitting into, this is 40 minutes of big finish just hitting you over the head with how powerful/special/important that relationship is, and with them being two of my favorite characters, i really haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since

#jamie mccrimmon #second doctor #big finish #Short Trips: Deleted Scenes #yes i am gonna tag this #two/jamie #i think it earned it with the line from celine's letter if nothing else #and quite possibly the doctor's so-called imprudent & pain-driven spying #but i'll leave it at that #in case anyone's looking at the tags to decide if they should actually read this rambling monster of a post #also if you for some reason read this but haven't listened to the audio -#a) that's kind of you to care what i have to say but #b) you could probably have listened to half of it by now lol #did i mention it's a stand-alone audio that only costs $3?#and it's more of a traditional audio book format with one narrator who voices all the characters?#sorry i wasn't ready to do a bf pitch in the tags here #i genuinely dont know why someone who hasn't already heard it would bother to read all this #but if anyone has - thanks?#i'll shut up now so you can get on w ur day :)

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infinites-chaser · 4 years

Note

Librarian! PH. 52 MLQC MC / Victor :)

HELLO ANON U WERE ONE OF THE FIRST PEOPLE TO RESPOND TO MY LIBRARIAN ASK GAME I’M SO SORRY IT’S TAKEN SO LONG,,, victor is just. hard to write. aLSO I'm doubly sorry since i’ll be combining this with the Victor ask from @truth-be-told-im-lying hope neither of you mind T-T i don’t think my mind could do two victor ficlets akwlfjsdkls

ANyway I love you both LOTS AND LOTS hopefully this attempt at Victor isn’t extremely out of character;;; it’s a lowkey soulmates AU if that counts for anything :> aND this fic gets the special treatment of an actual Title bc True was wonderful enough to help me by typing Victor as an Enneagram Type One

okaaay and without further ado,

49, 52 + Victor/MC

‘[He] wakes up in [his] bed, determined to begin again.’- These Ghosts Are Family, Maisy Card. (pg. 49)

‘As [he] pushes through the onlookers to meet [her], he is certain he is the only person moving.’- These Ghosts Are Family, Maisy Card. (pg. 52)

((pronoun changes in both quotes to better fit the ficlet))

spoilers for Victor/MC’s childhood!

spend my whole life searching

Victor doesn’t believe in soulmates. (After half a lifetime of searching turning up nothing, he doesn’t believe in much.)

Once upon a time, he might’ve. (He wanted to). His heart rate doubled and sped up to match hers— a carefree little girl skipping across the road, too far away to hear his nerves cry danger, too caught up in dreams and fantasies to hear his warning shout. Time slowed down so he could save her, and on that afternoon on the crosswalk, drops of rain suspended in the air, he did.

At that age, he hadn’t had the sense to wonder why a young girl like her had been crossing the street without supervision. Why her smiles had come freely, but had always looked a little sad, a little wistful. Why she’d been so eager to accept his baked treats. Why she’d been at the playground without a parent. Why she’d always been alone.

Now, seventeen years later, he wishes he did. Wishes he’d known something as simple as her last name.

He dreams of her. Of finding her again: the girl whose heartbeat matched his. The girl whose smile had slowed down time itself for him, as if short moments with her could’ve each stretched into a gentle eternity. He’d wanted them to. He’d wanted to capture every moment spent with her, to make them last, to savor them, so they’d pass slow and sweet like honey on the tongue.

Time had passed slow when he’d wanted it to. Those sunlit afternoons had been sweet, they’d been happy.

Only, time is a fickle thing. When he takes his eye off it, it races away, too fast for him to keep up.

The kidnapping. The experiments. The torture.

The escape.

She saves him. He’s too slow to save her.

And even if he can stop time, here’s the thing: he can never turn the clock back.

Still, he wakes up. Every morning, he gets out of bed. Gets dressed and goes to work. The world around him moves on, and demands he does, too, even if his heart’s still eleven years old and clutching her motionless body, eleven years old, the only sound in his ears his pounding pulse, the absence of the accompaniment of hers an accusation more painful than any hateful words.

It’s a recurring theme in his life, time. It’s ironic, really, when he thinks about it. That he can stop time without lifting a finger, and yet, when it comes to things he cares about, people he loves most, he’s always eleven years old again, always too late.

(His Evol’s time control, but perhaps, all this time, he hasn’t been controlling time, it’s been controlling him. He’s imprisoned by a single moment, a memory, a regret. A past that can never be undone.)

Whenever he has spare time, he devotes himself to searching. Resigns himself to the fact he’ll probably never find her, if all he has to go off of is a child’s face, once preserved in his memory, now fading. Hair color. Eye color. Age. A name. Nothing more.

The searches turn up nothing.

He spends late nights in the office to distract himself, builds up a capitalist kingdom of a company, if only to put off for a few hours more the prospect of returning home to face his nightmares alone.

His father praises him for LFG’s growth over dinners filled with awkward silences. The name Victor Li appears more and more often in business newspapers. Investors approach him. He gets interviews. Gets offers for TV appearances, for sponsorships.

He takes them, these material successes. Wonders if any amount of them could ever make up for the failure from his childhood. If they could bring her back. He tells himself if he finds her, when he finds her, when he brings her back, it’ll be to a more perfect world. One in which he’ll never fail her again. It’s a foolish thought, but it keeps him going. With it in mind, he proceeds to work twice as hard.

Souvenir is what saves him. A small allowance, a self-indulgence, a seed of hope planted in what he thinks is his darkest time.

It’s for her, more than any of his frantic searching ever was. A dream, a foolish one, that one day she’ll step through his memories and through the restaurant’s door, that one day they’ll share a pudding together again, their hearts beating as one.

He doesn’t get to open Souvenir often; his job doesn't let him. He made sure of that, long ago. But when he does, after the last customer’s left, and he’s put up the closed sign, he cooks for two.

(The first time, Mr. Mills had taken a single look at his silent, still face, and his expression must've spoken volumes. The older man hadn't said a word, only helped clean the kitchen after, the normally gentle lines around his mouth pulled taut in a worried frown.)

He sets the second place at the table himself: carefully places fork, knife and spoon beside lukewarm appetizers, tucks a napkin under soup bowls going cold. Watches the empty seat and the untouched meal for an eternity before finally eating his own. His technique's impeccable. It has been ever since he'd aced his culinary lessons, since he'd bought out the school. He'd used the finest ingredients. He always does.

The food still crumbles like ash in his mouth. (It always does.)

Mr. Mills will find him there, nursing a glass of wine long into the night. He knows better not to question it, but sometimes he'll pull up a chair, drink a glass, too. talk of everything and nothing, talk of his parents, his sister's family, of times gone by.

Victor will never admit it, but the older man's presence makes those nights less hard. his stories, his memories — they keep the ice in his heart from spreading any further when it feels like nothing else will.

Ten years stretch into thirteen, into fourteen, into fifteen, into a broken clock, time stopped because does the passage of time mean anything if he measures it, measured it in time with her? If she's gone?

The meals shrink. First appetizers vanish, then entrees too, until all that's left are desserts, puddings that he stares at all evening, puddings a girl had loved once, that he can almost imagine her sitting there eating, her noticing him watching her and her answering blush and smile. His smile back.

Almost, because after all these years without her, he can’t quite imagine her face. Not as she would look now. Not even as she was, seventeen years back.

(He dreams and finds he doesn’t remember what her smile looked like, exactly. Doesn’t remember the sound of her heartbeat mingling with the sound of his.

Memory is cruel. Memory is imperfect. No matter if you can stop time, no matter how hard you try to memorize a moment, when you revisit it, it’ll never be the same as when you lived it the first time.)

Then:

The day starts like any other. He wakes up, gets out of bed, gets ready for another day of work, another night of searching. He scrolls emails while waiting for his espresso machine to heat, then puts his tablet aside when the coffee's done. He eats in silence. As always, he's done five minutes before he needs to leave for the company, the perfect amount of time for him to do a last-minute check in the mirror— his tie's straight, his shirt unwrinkled, not a hair on his head out of place. The reflection that stares back at him is unchanging; these days it barely shows even the passage of time.

He sighs. Shakes the thought off like the piece of lint it is on his otherwise immaculate state of being, and heads for the door, the lock automatically clicking behind him at eight o'clock am, exactly on schedule, exactly as planned.

He's about to take a seat in his car when an inexplicable urge to walk to work takes hold of him. He pauses. Calculates and re-calculates the time it would take (fifteen minutes, not accounting for rush hour traffic making crosswalks slow), and he's about to decide it's not worth it, it's a silly thought, but the urge intensifies.

Do it, the eleven-year-old in his heart seems to be telling him. You won't regret it.

He frowns and rubs his forehead— for a moment, he wonders if all his searching, all his foolish hopes are finally getting to his brain.

He decides to take the walk, anyway.

He regrets it, not nine minutes later, when despite the sun's light shining strong through the clouds, a light rain begins to fall.

Worse still, the traffic lights haven't changed once in the past ninety seconds. He won't be late, he'd accounted for this, but he's stuck in a crowd of pedestrians, and their chatter's beginning to grate on his nerves. He's considering calling the mayor about it after exactly one hundred seconds have passed— clearly, the light's broken, this is far too long for commuters to wait— but then, finally the walk sign flicks on.

He's already across the street when it happens:

First, a phone rings.

Then, the loud honking of a car.

Tires screech.

Time slows. Time stops.

He's back on the crosswalk in a matter of heartbeats, the inattentive idiot in his arms (it's a girl, it's always a girl, hair dark, eyes wide, expression shocked).

"You..." She says, blinking up at him with those wide, almost-familiar eyes. Distantly, he registers the echo of a heartbeat overlapping with his.

"Who are you?"

Who are you? His mind asks, but deep in his heart, he already knows the answer. It can't be.

"Evolver?" He says instead, shoving down memories that threaten to surface: another rainy day, another crosswalk, another heart that had seemed matched to his. He tells himself he's being delusional, that he thinks he can hear her heartbeat because she's in his arms, wide-eyed and fragile, her heartrate skittering back and forth like a fool— this isn't like his careful, methodical searching, this is a fluke beyond flukes, it means nothing, it'll lead to nothing in the end.

But she's in his arms, warm and soft against his protective embrace, she's in his arms and it feels so right it's almost painful, his pulse pulled into a panicked pace to match hers.

He sets her down abruptly, as if burned, and turns to go.

"Someone can't come to your rescue every time."

Around them, suspended raindrops begin to fall. The world, resumed. The world, once again predictable and mundane. Except for her.

He knows, without looking back, she's staring after him, her heart, his heart, still racing.

He allows himself a smile.

He allows himself some small sliver of hope.

(His frozen time starts moving again.)

#mlqc #mlqc victor #mlqc fanfic #val writes #hNnghghg this took so Long and writing vic gives me so much stress BUT HOPE Y'ALL ENJOY #u didnt hear it from me but it was actually really interesting to explore his character like this and. i've definitely developed more of an #appreciation :> of sorts #victor is an enneagram one and rly that's all that matters thats all u need to learn from this fic #also sOULmate AUs i love them that's it does this mean i think vic is MC's soulmate;;; maybe in this universe but not generally ailsjkfd #JUST FOR THE RECORD. i am not a vic stan so it must be said #TIL that mr mills does not have a wife/family and that makes me rly sad

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speechlessxx · 4 years

Text

invisible string (Steve Rogers x Reader)

Summary: there was always been a single thread of gold tying you to Steve Rogers.

This was also a request from an anon! But I planned to write an imagine ever since folklore came out haha...

Based on Taylor Swift - invisible string (highly recommend you to listen bc this is my favorite song off of folklore!)

Warnings: a lot of Taylor Swift references, language!, wordy (oops)

Word Count: ~3k

Love was quite a challenge – a never-ending struggle. You found it was more rejection than acceptance – more heartbreak and angst than romance and fluff. The romantic comedies you loved gave you so much hope and high expectations, leading you to believe you’d meet the love of your life whilst reading in the park or at an art museum where you’d be admiring paintings while he admired you.

It was all wrong.

Love wasn’t straight and narrow – black and white or even red. It was complex – full of twists and turns. You didn’t know this, but you were meant to get tangled up in the strings of love… Instead, you sought to straighten it out – to unravel the ball of yarn that love felt like.

You never stopped believing in true love despite the heartaches and the horrible men you’ve encountered. You often joked that you met the wrong ones at – what felt like – the right times.

But that’s the wondrous thing about timing – about fate, even…

Because the right one was always there … you weren’t ready for him just yet.

New to the city, your friends often set you up on numerous blind dates. They were their boyfriends’ friends, or coworkers, or their own friends. Most of the time, you had nothing in common with these men, but they’d tell you, “you gotta kiss a couple frogs to find your prince.” When you’d bring up your fantasizes of finding true love yourself, they’d snark and tell you, “true love’s a thing of the past.” You didn’t like to believe that, but maybe they were right…

Perhaps with the modern age of dating – Tinder and online sugar daddies and what not – that was true. Many blind dates ended with a confession – that they just wanted to hookup. You often found yourself a victim of mind games – pathetically drinking alone in the late nights wondering if he’d call (and when he did, it was always at his convenience and would chastise you if you weren’t available or in the mood).

However, one man seemingly put all your past relationships to shame. He was everything you ever wanted – tall, dark, handsome. Although it wasn’t a criterion for you, he had a great job and a promising career – one he was immensely proud of and often boasted about. That was one con about James – that and the aloofness, narcissism, and all too flirty personality though you always found yourself overlooking all of that.

Many of your friends didn’t quite approve. They found him a bit too arrogant and often called him out for taking advantage of your too kind and naïve heart. But you often found yourself brushing them off. You thought that perhaps they didn’t quite approve because they didn’t choose him for you.

Unlike the other men, you met him spontaneously at a Broadway show. You were gifted tickets for your birthday, and he happened to be sitting right next to your seat. He introduced himself to you, giddy with excitement – apparently, this was his favorite show. You thought his shameless excitement for Broadway was endearing and you hit it off instantly. It felt like destiny and months later, you were falling in love with James (ignoring all the red flags).

-=+=-

You smiled as you entered the bar. James, whom – as he says – has exquisite taste, picked out a bar in Brooklyn. It was quite unusual, really. He was an Upper East Side trust fund baby – although he claims that his career is self-made – and wasn’t too fond of the outer boroughs. But you welcomed the change in scenery. You found the five-star restaurants too flashy with food portions that were much too small for the huge price tags.

You quickly found him in the crowded bar and rushed over to give him a hug. He didn’t welcome you with an equally tight embrace. In fact, you didn’t feel his arms go around you at all.

“You okay?” You asked him as you settled into the seat next to him.

“Look, we gotta talk,” his voice was hushed. James scratched his head with his eyes glancing around. He looked tense – uncomfortable. His hands were shoved into his coat’s pockets, clutching onto his wallet as if he were afraid someone would just snatch it from him.

“Okay…” You nodded. You felt your heart begin to race. His tone, his composure – hell, he himself – radiated an all too familiar feeling. You felt the breakup speech coming before he even said the words.

“I think we gotta breakup,” he muttered. He refused to look at you. His eyes staring at your feet. You straightened up in your seat, rolling your shoulders back and picking at your dress’s skirt nervously.

“Is… is there something I did?” You asked, your voice breaking at the end. Although you felt the breakup happening, it still caught you off guard. Three months into dating, you were already falling so hard for him. Everything felt perfect up until now.

“No,” James shook his head. His eyes finally met yours, but it was your turn to look away. “I just think we’re not meant for each other.”

“Okay,” you nodded. A tear rolled down your cheek, but you quickly wiped it away with the back of your hand.

“Yeah… Um… I gotta go – “

“Is there someone else?” You don’t know why you asked. You weren’t sure if you even wanted the answer. James coughed, awkwardly. You caught him nod in the corner of your eye. You exhaled a shaky breath before feeling your heart harden. “Fine. Have a good life.” He said your name and leaned over to hug you, but you shrugged him off. “Go fuck, yourself,” you spat. The words surprised you. You were never so vulgar, but you had enough.

Without another word, James retreated from the bar – disappearing out the door and out of your life. As soon as the door shut, the dam broke, and quickly came the tears.

Unbeknownst to you, there was an especially trained ear listening in to the short yet very heartbreaking conversation. Steve wasn’t much of an eavesdropping, but he couldn’t help if his enhanced hearing – thanks to the serum – picked up on distress. And you were chock full of it.

Steve stared on as you tried to compose yourself to no avail. You were shaking with anger, with sorrow, with heartbreak. His own heart broke for you.

What an asshole, Steve thought to himself.

Steve noticed James the moment the rich prick walked into the bar. He hated how the man snapped his fingers at the waitress and the bartender and how he talked down to those who were just doing their job. He remembered the man get on the phone, talking to – what sounded like – a woman, telling her that he was “handling it”. Steve didn’t need to have Bruce’s intelligence to know that James was a two-timing pig and he thought about the poor woman whom he was “handling”.

Then, you walked into the bar. A teal colored sundress. The color bringing him back to simpler times when he was sixteen and Bucky had hooked him up with a job at a yogurt place. He noticed how you gleamed in the dark room. He thought you were like daylight and cursed James even more – he didn’t deserve his own personal sun.

“Hey,” Steve called to the waitress. The young woman smiled at him, recognizing him as the regular who drank so much yet never stumbled out drunk. “Do me a favor and get that young lady a glass of your finest. On me.” He pointed over to you – the pretty girl in the teal sundress with tears rolling down her cheeks.

The waitress nodded. “Anything in particular you want me to tell her?”

Steve shook his head. “Just tell her that a man like that asshole ain’t worth her time nor her tears.”

“Gotcha,” the waitress winked before walking off.

Steve, knowing how a simple glass of alcohol can make or break a young woman’s evening, stayed to ensure that the drink was brought to you safely. His eyes were trained on the glass – from the moment the drink was poured up until the moment it was brought over to you.

“I … I didn’t order this,” you told the waitress.

“Yeah,” she smiled and nodded over to Steve though you didn’t follow her eyes, “that man did. Told me to tell you that that asshole you were with ain’t worth your time nor your tears and I agree.”

You gave her a little chuckle and a gracious nod as she walked away. You turned your head, craning over the many patrons of the bar to catch a glimpse of the man… but all you got was the back of his head as he walked out of the bar.

Tall. Blonde. Broad.

Those were the only thing you knew about this mystery man.

-=+=-

Months after James and several failed attempts to rebound, you decided to give up on your quest for love. Opting to love yourself, instead. Your friends supported the notion.

“I’m tired of trying to find love. Let love find me,” you rose a glass up on the night before your trip and your friends cheered in support.

The trip was two weeks well spent. A reprieve from the suffocating city of millions. Your friends found your sudden glowing, tanned skin, and bright smile suspicious. Chalking this “glow up” to you finding a new man and didn’t quite believe when you attributed it to self-love rather than romantic love.

But nevertheless, they were simply excited to have you back in the city. They wanted to celebrate your return – and you knew the perfect bar to do so.

“You’re staring,” Sam muttered over to Steve as Steve tore his eyes away from the familiar woman.

“’m not,” Steve chuckled. “You gonna ice that eye?” He pointed over to the dark bruise beneath Sam’s right eye. The pair had just returned from a successful mission and Sam, who clearly took a couple hits, wanted to go out and be “normal” – Steve knew the perfect place.

The waitress laughed as she brought over a Ziplock bag filled with ice wrapped with a paper towel. “Thought he might need this.” She joked. Sam thanked her as he took the bag and pressed it onto his eye. “Your girl’s here,” she teased Steve.

“Not my girl,” Steve laughed, glancing over his shoulder at you again.

She hummed teasingly. “Heard she just came back from a trip.”

“Wait, what do you mean his girl?” Sam asked.

The waitress shrugged. “She was here a few months ago and got broken up with. Stevie boy, here, bought her a drink but left right after. She came back a lot, saying she’d always see her asshole ex in the city and how he’d never come to Brooklyn, so she kinda made this place her safe place.” She laughed. “Funny thing is… She comes, Stevie’s not here. Stevie comes, she’s gone.”

“And tonight, they’re both here? Hm…” Sam narrowed his good eye at Steve. “I think that’s fate, pal.” Steve shook his head. “Oh, c’mon… I’ll even introduce ya.”

“Sam. No.”

The man caught your eye – not because he was handsome (you didn’t even see his face) but because the back of his head was just familiar. It looked similar to the mystery man that bought you a drink all those months ago. Tall. Blonde. Broad. You couldn’t help but stare.

“Why are you staring at that guy’s head?” One of your friends nudged you, shaking you from your thoughts. “You know him?”

“Uh… No.” You shook your head, laughing a little. “He just looks familiar, ‘s all.”

“Okay…” She nodded before taking a swig of her drink. “I think you should go talk to him.”

You scoffed. “Why?”

“Because he seems to have your attention.” She giggled.

“Right…” you laughed, awkwardly. “Well… I’m hitting the ladies.”

You got up from your seat. As you were making your way across the bar, your phone began to buzz. Thinking it was strange, considering everyone you spoke to daily was in that bar, you pulled your phone out to investigate. You rolled your eyes when you saw James’s name on the caller ID. You scoffed and sent him straight to voicemail.

Distracted with your phone, you didn’t notice the wall of a man pushing himself out of his seat to stand. You ran straight into him, dropping your phone in the process.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Steve apologized.

“It’s my fault, really,” you laughed. You awkwardly combed through your hair with your fingers when you noticed it was the man you were staring at earlier.

“I doubt it. I’m pretty clumsy sometimes,” he chuckled. (Sam scoffed… like you’re not Captain America throwing that shield around with expert precision? Right…)

“You’d be surprised at my skill. If there’s an Olympics for clumsiness, I’d be the Michael Phelps.” You joked. You pushed down your shyness and offered him your hand, introducing yourself to the incredibly handsome man (thank you slight buzz).

Steve couldn’t find his words, suddenly becoming shy. It felt as if he were a skinny, stupid, sixteen-year-old again. “uh…”

“Steve Rogers.” The man Steve was sitting next to cut in. You frowned curiously at him seeing as he was holding a makeshift icepack to his face. “His name’s Steve Rogers.”

“Wait… like…” You found the name familiar as if you read it in a textbook or a museum. “Like Captain America?” You brought your voice down low, not wanting to draw attention to the man.

He smiled bashfully as he shook your hand. “Yeah…”

“It’s nice to meet you.” You smiled. You weren’t sure if you were supposed to salute, but your slowly sobering mind decided against it.

Just as he expected… to be smiled at by you was like being graced by daylight.

“You mean finally,” the waitress, the one who seemed to always work whenever you were there, butt in. “He’s the man who bought you the drink, by the way.” She told you just before walking off with a tray of drinks.

“Oh… that was you?”

Steve’s ears heated up and he felt himself flush, looking away. “Yeah… I just thought it might cheer you up a little… that guy was an ass.”

“Agreed.” You chuckled. “Thank you, Steve… and it’s nice to finally meet you, I guess.”

“Right back at you.” He nodded. He watched you turn and retreat to your table with your friends. He tried not to listen in on your conversation, distracting himself with Sam as your friends buzzed in excitement, badgering you with questions.

“Hey…” the waitress said, bending down and grabbing a phone off the hardwood floor. “You drop this, Stevie?” Steve checked his pockets and sure enough, his phone was there. “Sammy?” Sam did the same and shook his head. The waitress cocked her head to the side as she pressed the power button. The phone lit up and a mischievous smirk formed on her face as she turned the screen to show a photo of you and your friends. “I wonder who this belongs to?”

“Should probably give it back to her,” Steve suggested.

“Yeah, you should.” Sam encouraged, bumping Steve’s shoulder with his. “While you’re at it, get her number, you idiot! Girl was giving you ‘em eyes.”

“What eyes?” Steve frowned, obviously confused. Sam groaned, snatching the phone, and thrusting it into Steve’s hands.

“Go!” He said, pushing Steve away in your direction.

“Oh, my god, dreamy man is coming over!” Your friends muttered in excitement as you heard the faint footsteps near.

You heard Steve say your name and you turned around with a smile. “Hello again, Steve.”

“Hi…” he scratched his head awkwardly. “You lose your phone?”

“Oh shit…” you muttered, suddenly noticing your empty pockets. “Thank you so much!” You said as he handed it to you.

“Yeah, it’s no problem.” Steve nodded before turning.

“Wait!” You called out. He stopped and turned to give you another shy smile. “How about I buy you a drink as a thank you?” He didn’t have the heart to tell you that alcohol had no affect on him, but he also didn’t like the idea of a lady spending her own money on him.

“No, it’s alright.” Steve shook his head. “Mom raised me to never let a woman spend money on me.”

You laughed. “No, please… call it a payback.”

“I don’t know …” He chuckled. He saw how your smile faltered, just a bit. You took his reluctance as rejection and he noticed you slowly retreat into yourself. “Not that I’m not interested in you,” he cringed at his words. “That sounds horrible, but umm… How about I buy you a drink, instead? Helps with my moral code.” He cringed at his joke. “Is it too forward if I say I just wanna get to know you?”

“Not at all.” You shook your head; your smile returning.

“You look like Captain America,” your friend, boldly stated.

Steve nodded. “I get that a lot.” He glanced over to you and winked.

“We’ll leave you guys to it, then…” One of your other friends coughed. “Let’s go, girls?” She made a telephone gesture with her hands and mouthed the words call me before pulling your friends away, leaving you and Steve alone.

Leaving you to entangle yourself in the invisible string that tied you and Steve Rogers together.

#steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans #captain america #captain america x reader #captain america imagine #mcu imagine #marvel imagine

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titaniasfics · 3 years

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if your prompts are still open, for wanda and vision: "my love for you is set in stone" (bc tell me that 'Heart of Stone' from SIX isn't the perfect song to encapsulate the devastation that was the finale of WandaVision?! gahhh I just want Wanda, Vision and the kids to be together and happy!)

In which Vision needs to defeat Wanda before he can save her.

Inspired by a mashup of two prompts:

1) One shot of Vision and Wanda making up after a fight. Would love to see your take on it.

2) If your prompts are still open, for Wanda and Vision: "my love for you is set in stone" (bc tell me that 'Heart of Stone' from SIX isn't the perfect song to encapsulate the devastation that was the finale of WandaVision?! gahhh I just want Wanda, Vision and the kids to be together and happy!)

Bonkers drabble speculation on how Dr. Strange and the Multiverse of Madness movie might end. I make a ton of assumptions on this so please be aware that this all made up. Like, more made up than usual. Leans heavily into comic book lore, especially the Giant-Size Avengers Comic Book, Issue #4.

Oh, and I’m a noob when it comes to fight scenes, so I’ve contrived every way to avoid writing one.

Thanks, anons! The song “Heart of Stone” is now on my WandaVision playlist.

Heart of Stone

Vision’s vibranium arc reactor, which Dr. Cho installed to replace the Mind Stone and the flimsy solar absorption unit courtesy of SWORD, strains against Wanda’s sustained energy blast. Her beautiful blue eyes which normally turn a color of magma when she invokes her power, are now pitch black from Dormammu’s possession. Under his influence, she is doing her best to fulfill his diabolical directive.

Kill The Vision.

Even after Dr. Strange’s attempts to weaken her, she is as incandescent as the black energy that pulses at the center of the Dark Dimension. The Supreme Sorcerer tried to warn Vision when he first appeared in this hellish dimension of evil in search of Wanda.

She won’t recognize you. She will kill you and when she returns to herself and realizes what she has done, nothing in the universe – not me, not Agatha Harkness, not even Dormammu himself – will be able to withstand the force of her rage.

If he cannot reach her, she will not only destroy him, but in her grief, she will tear apart the multiverse and everything within it. Wanda’s grief is a cosmic force all its own.

He knows. He became well-acquainted with it in Westview when, like a puppet himself, he was sent to neutralize her.

Now, suspended between a host of conquered planets at the mercy of the god of the Dark Dimension, Wanda is draining him, even as he dredges up every last store of energy that the reactor can generate to resist her. Around him, the dimension roars with the collective fear of an infinite number of trapped beings.

I’ll hold off Dormammu, but if she doesn’t snap out of his spell, neither of us will be able to stop her and Dormammu will take Earth’s dimension.

As Dr. Strange warned, Vision needs to thwart Dormammu’s endless designs to absorb Earth into the Dark Dimension, but Vision also needs Wanda and he must find a way to get her back.

He sends another pulse of energy, forcing her to pull back, but she recovers quickly, his blast nothing more than an annoying insect bite. If he could just get to her. Look into her eyes. He knows like he knows who he is, who they are together, that he can reach her.

“Wanda, you are killing me. Darling, please,” he begs, knowing his words are a poor substitute for what he needs to do to free her.

“The Vision must die,” Wanda repeats, sending a last, decisive blast towards him. The impact sends fire through his body, heat like nothing he’s ever experienced. He falls, hurtling like a chunk of meteor to the hellish rock below. The impact is nothing compared to the pain. Vision is burning in his skin. His senses are compromised, his systems failing, despite the nanobots unfurling in his bloodstream, scurrying to stem the hemorrhages of a body struggling to remain intact.

When Wanda lands before him, he senses her more than he feels her. He reaches out to her, lifting his eyes to gaze into hers. Even though his vision is fading, he sees that they are as bottomless as the dark matter of the cosmos. As dark as the evil that holds her.

“Wanda, you must remember…who you are…”

“Wanda Maximoff is no more,” she drones and his heart fractures at the realization that her words might hold an unwanted truth. Perhaps Dormammu has buried Wanda…his Wanda… so far inside herself that she may never emerge again.

“Who said…Wanda is no more? Dormammu? You once said…you needed no one…to tell you who you are. Do you really take him at his word?”

She blinks, shaking her head as if to clear it. “Dormammu,” she murmurs and the emptiness in her voice is rich with confusion. On the strength of this, Vision staggers to his feet.

“You are not a puppet.” He reaches for her, her flinch half-hearted because she allows him to grasp her by her upper arms. “You are Wanda Maximoff. You are the Scarlet Witch –“

“The Scarlet Witch,” she repeats.

“—and you are my love,” he finishes before his strength gives out and he falls to one knee before her. “I am weak. I am not sure if I will recover, but you must remember who you are.”

The struggle is clear on her face. “Remember who I am. Who I am...”

“Yes. And remember that my love for you is set in stone, no matter what happens here.”

“Vision?” she asks, her question as plaintive as a child’s. He looks up again at the brittle tone of her voice. The darkness in her eyes floods with a blue as bright as the summer sky over the mountains, a blue that is out of place in this terrible hellscape.

“Wanda,” he says, reaching for her, but his strength is failing him as energy is diverted to repairing his damaged systems. “Remember us.”

She stiffens as if a distended rubber band has snapped into place. “Vision!” she shouts, kneeling before him. “Did I do this?”

He wants to say give her an affirmative answer but speech has escaped him and staying conscious consumes his every last effort.

“No-no-no-no,” she moans, tears distorting her words. “You can’t…you can’t die again.” Her hands glow and she places them over him. “I’m here. I’ll fix you.”

Vision takes a deep breath as her energy courses through him – familiar, like the smell of her hair or the softness of her skin. The fire that threatened to consume him earlier cools to a gentle pulse as the nanobots in his body feed on her energy, accelerating repairs, putting his body back together again at a rate even they had not been designed for. But they hold onto their structural integrity and Vision is able to see clearly again. His thoughts untangle and his strength returns.

She withdraws her powers, her palms warm as she cradles his head in her hands. “How? How did you get here?”

Vision puts his hand over hers, reveling in the feel of her skin against his. “It is a rather long story that I will share with you when we leave this place.”

“First things first,” she says, crushing her lips to his and at that moment, he realizes how much he has missed this as well, the sheer physicality of her love for him. A mad god howls in rage just beyond, the Dark Dimension threatens to swallow them both, but he is lost to the taste of her mouth and the warmth of her arms wrapped around him.

“Hey, guys?” comes a voice that pulls them from their bubble of bliss. “I could use some help over here.”

They pull apart to see Dr. Strange, locked in some magical struggle for dominance against the god of the Dark Dimension, straining against his power.

“I’ve got this,” Wanda says, rising into the air. “Don’t go anywhere.”

In awe of her power, he takes off beside her, ready to offer her the backup she really does not need. “You will never get rid of me again.”

***

One-shot masterlist on tumblr

ScarletVision Collection on AO3

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phoebehalliwell · 4 years

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how would you rank the seasons from least to most favourite?

alright okay right off the bat worst season season 7. for starters i think this season has no staying power i mean like since i’ve been running this blog 4 so long now my knowledge of charmed is encyclopedic and insanely vast more than like it ever need be but for the longest time. i could not remember season 7. like wtf even happened there?? evidently leo became human??? cole returned? the avatars??? like all of it was just. it’s not even necessarily forgettable it’s just i straight up could not remember it for the longest time. and i’ve said it before the concept of utopia was way to advanced for a show like charmed to tackle i am not watching charmed for moral philosophy i am watching bc i love these girls ♥ hee hee hoo hoo magic adventure ✨ tho if i am to offer a single comment on utopia: it’s awfully rich for a show to go on about destiny and fate and then take a stand against utopia in the name of free will. but w/e. i don’t like leo in the avatars i don’t like his dynamic with piper in this season i don’t like whatever phoebe’s doing this season there’s like leslie?? maybe there’s someone else? boring & flavorless they should have been setting up her endgame instead of puttering around. and kyle. zoo wee mama. could have been a great antihero. morally gray. duplicitous. self serving. but no. they gave him all those traits and called him hero/love interest. s7 left a lot to be desired out of the characters and their relationships also gave us phat L’s such as the charmed ones are werewolves don’t worry about it and feminism peaked with naked women. shout out to zankou: demon, dilf, dub & the noir episode.

you know what? fuck it i’ll say it second worse season 5 genuinely fuck season five. this is probably a Very Specific beef 2 me But. i hate what they did to the charmed universe. this was the season that marked the transition of charmed from supernatural drama to campy soap which like. i love camp! i do! but fr. fuck this season and what it did to the worldbuilding. the early season have Such A Vibe to them man with warlocks and witches and just a couple niche monsters from assorted lore that the show took and made their own. season five opens with mermaids goes directly into fairytales then gives us superheros whatever the fuck was going on in that mummy episode the sandman leprechauns and nymphs. and i hate it for that. it takes away from this urban fantasy things that go bump in the night what lurks in the shadows of the back alleys of san francisco in favor of the ugliest cinderella dress ever put to television and an onslaught of horrible irish accents for a full episode. other issues with season five: cole’s still here? why? they don’t know and neither will you! we’re not redeeming him! phoebe’s not getting back together with him! yes he died we just refuse to let him go! the cherry on top of course being a cole-centric 100th episode. shout out to. hmm. lemme think about what i actually liked about this season. i like jason dean as a love interest i don’t remember what he did in s5 but i know he was there. the season finale i’ve talked about how stupid & shitty it was but idc i still love that episode and then shout out to bacarra the only original villain this season that was a proper serve. the crone gets second place.

next on this come on we all saw it coming season 8. it’s a bad season! and i get bts there was a whole lot happening budget cuts missing actor etc. but it goes beyond that. it was a bad season. billie and christie were bad. and i’ve said this before but billie in herself is not an inherently bad character. she was just the literal worst for the show. she was a dollar store buffy blonde confident cocky skilled and ready 2 fight evil But. we are not following her like we followed buffy we are following her mentors. it’s like if we had a show called giles that aired for seven seasons And Then buffy showed up. billie was insanely irritating to watch from our perspective and in general wasn’t like. well written. attempts to humanize her / give her more depth often fell flat. and then christy. oh nelly. oh my god. barely a character. not well acted but hey it would have been a miracle if she was. negatives include dumain who was a mess omg bringing back the triad bringing back the source billie & christy obvi and also involving homeland security. which is season 7′s fault which is why it’s the worst. dubs on the other hand include both coop and henry i really liked them the shoehorned love interests weren’t great but i like their characters i though the way the got rid of leo to save on the budget was really creative and gave us a great piper episode and of course the sugary sweet finale i love it i do what can i say.

yet another controversial choice aptly coming in fourth is season 4. i respect what season 4 set out to do. i think it was a good idea. long form narratives, keeping a darker tone, focusing on character-driven drama and growth. too bad it fucking failed miserably at all of this. cole as the source and phoebe as the queen of hell was just so so botched. they had a very unique opportunity following the death of prue to explore these characters and what it means to them to be charmed, to be witches. they saved the world but the cost is insanely high. they’ve lost an older sister. they’ve gained a new sister. how do you even begin to cope with all this? episodes such as hell hath no fury and brain drain fuck so hard because they work with exactly that. had the whole season been like those episode season four would sit at number one with flying colors absolutely no competition. but alas. we can’t have nice things. the show got so bogged down with phoebe & cole, in a way that was just so, so messy. for starters, whether you loved cole or hated him before, we can all agree source!cole sucked. he was such a strong 180 from what we had seen that the show had to make the source some type of possession to justify half the shit they were trying to pull. and then to pit phoebe and paige against one another over a man was just. disgusting. and the ending of course felt rushed because it was! they wrapped up that entire issue in a nice little bow much faster than they reasonably should have been able to. it could have been a great season. it was definitely not. shout out to the seer an iconic mastermind on barbas levels, as previously stated brain drain and hell hath no fury Specific shout out to piper’s scene at prue’s grave shout out to paige as a character i like what they did with her and um. yeah that’s it.

okay we’re exiting the shit tier in favorite of the good tier welcome to the upper half. kicking us off is season 6. season 6 did what season 4 could not in that it gave us a long form plot that still left plenty of room for like. normal demon of the week episodes. i love phoebe early in this season with her faboo haircut her brand new empathy power and her relationship with jason dean. obvious strikes against for whatever the fuck that baby crazy stint was and also the mata hari episode. yikes. i love paige’s hair color in this season nothing paige as a character necessarily stands out to me however i like how they seem to have hit the blend of work-magic with paige where she wants a life and career outside of magic however she still loves the craft and embraces is with an open heart and mind. season six also gives us chris who was a very fun male lead imo we really didn’t have many like him he’s bitchy. he whines and bitches a lot he’s got an agenda he’s a bit secretive but at the end of the day he just wants a family i like him. i like the character growth we see out of piper i like seeing her try to move on from leo i love seeing her get back together with leo i like her dynamic with chris and her fears about motherhood. i also liked richard but that one takes a lot of justification. L’s are witchstock hyde school reunion used karma off the top of my head also the paige/richard/addiction plotline was so tone deaf. also the girls were mean to darryl : ( he deserved so much better. dubs were chris as a character, tbh the episode little monsters, phoebe with empathy specifically saying i love you too to jason i could write a dissertation on that line alone also the courtship of wyatt’s father and i thought the reveals of evil wyatt and chris being piper and leo’s son were both fun and interesting plot twists.

coming in third is actually season 2 a season i really do love it’s just. it lacks structure. imo there is a lot to love about season 2 morality bites and pardon my past are both delightful time travel episodes we get jack sheridan and bane jessup two of my personal favorite prue love interests we get p3 h2o and a great prue plotline regarding the death of patty we get the super cute cupid episode it’s a great. collection of episodes. it’s not a great season. there’s just imo not a strong enough thread connecting the stories together it’s mainly held together by having the same characters in it over and over again i really liked dan personally but like. i knew we were wasting time there. he was just an obstacle. a super cute loving and caring obstacle who’s great with kids but lbr piper and leo were always endgame. wasting our time on dan was stupid. i do love the sister dynamics in season two “gotta hand it to those pesky little demons they sure have brought us closer together” but again. this season could have benefitted from a rex and hannah type or even like a cole or zankou. this season is less of a season and more of just like a handful of episodes, and while there are some fat dubs, there are also some definite swings & misses. shout out to the time travel episodes the prue centric episodes phoebe’s character growth and maturity throughout this season (e.g. her going back to college) and i also think the fashion got a lot more fun this season.

second place i’m saying season one season one was a really strong start and gave us these really compelling characters with interesting relationships between one another But. a lot of it just kinda falls flat. and credit where credit is due it was a brand new show getting its feet under it but the fourth sister feats of clay which prue is it anyway they just simply aren’t dubs imo. also i don’t like that 70′s episode bc again i am an asshole concerned about The Lore i can’t believe one bitch ass warlock caused the Charmed Ones to grow up without powers. it just really bugs me. all in all the plots as a whole like aren’t great imo they’re nothing to write home about (save for from fear to eternity) it’s really the characters that make this season so goddamn good.

first place congratulations to the one the only season three. this is just because it kinda hits all my requirements in that it has some banger one offs (e.g. all halliwell’s eve, the good, the bad, and the cursed) it has an overarching plot at the exact same time as the source becomes more prominent and obvi cole is also there with murderous intent i like the character growth we see especially from prue i like piper and leo finally get married overall i really like the aesthetic of this season that blends a darker urban fantasy tone with still some charmed fashion and whimsy. strikes against tbh phoebe and cole’s relationship i am insanely picky with my enemies to lovers and the do not come remotely close to cutting the mustard in fact they are almost immediately disqualified however from afar i can see and respect The Drama. shout out to recasting victor prue with pistols death as a character and shannen directing episodes

#and of course this is a matter of opinion i'm not expecting everyone to agree w me Howver #i think you'd also be hard pressed to talk me out of my opinion #like the closer you get to the top there's more wiggle room like what's the best season i think changes with the wind #but the shit tier stays shit tier in my mind it's a matter of personal preference and i personally prefer my season to be good #charmed #💌

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