“I’m one number away from callin you, I said I was through but I’m dying inside. Got my head in a mess, girl I confess I lied when I said I’m leavin and not coming back. Might be the whiskey or the midnight rain, but everywhere I go I see your face in my brain dialing up everything I wanna say. But I’m still one number away…”
Pairing: Dean x Civilian!Reader
Word Count: 2,300
Warnings: Argument, fighting, breakup
A/N: Not quite what most of you were looking for (cough cough Dust) but I’ve had this stuck in my head for awhile and finally got it finished. Hope you like it!
Mentioned: Sam Wilson, Helmut Zemo, T’Chaka, Steve Rogers, Peggy Carter
“Hope when you take that jump, you don’t fear the fall. Hope when the water rises, you built a wall. Hope when the crowd screams out, it’s screaming your name. Hope if everybody runs, you choose to stay.”
Shuri took a shaky breath, glancing around at those around her. She felt unprepared. Sad, even. She knew there was always a chance that this would happen, but she never imagined the day would come so soon. She was only eighteen. She wasn’t ready to be the Queen of Wakanda. She wasn’t ready to be Black Panther. She would never be ready for that. But after her brother’s death, the burden fell on her shoulders. She wore the ring that signified leadership. No one had challenged her when the time come. All of Wakanda was satisfied with her taking the throne, but she was hesitant.
“This shouldn’t be happening,” she whispered, looking up at her mother. Ramonda was still grieving. They all were, but she was still supportive of Shuri. She had stayed by her side the whole time, promising to help her, though adding that she wouldn’t need it. “I’m not ready.”
“You are, Love,” Ramonda assured her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I’m sure that your brother will be happy to speak with you.”
Shuri nodded slightly. She knew that she would soon speak to T’Challa. He would welcome her as his successor both as the royal head of the Wakandan Empire and as the next Black Panther. While she wanted to see him again, she wished that he were here beside her instead. He wasn’t meant to leave her so soon.
“We’re all here for you when it’s over,” Ramonda reminded her, prompting Shuri to look up at the others. Okoye, Ayo, and many other Dora Mijae Warriors were there. Nakia too, who had been extremely quiet since T’Challa’s death. Bucky was there too, which had been a fight.
Many believed that a white man should not be allowed to see the ceremony, and Shuri had been infuriated. At first he had been nothing more than a patient, a “broken white boy” that she felt she needed to help. But in time, they had grown closer. T’Challa had even given him the title of “White Wolf” and named him a member of the royal family. Shuri was fervent in reminding the people of this, promising punishment who anyone who disrecpted him when he and Sam arrived in the city. She was grateful that no one caused trouble and she had been able to hug her pseudo brother away from the crowds, quietly thanking him for coming so far for her.
“Of course, Shuri,” he murmured. There was sadness in his voice, but she noticed it was different than the ever-present sadness that he had when he was living in Wakanda. He was happier now, healthier too, and she found herself making eye contact with Sam, silently thanking him. Because she knew that the man must have helped him.
“T’Challa would be glad that you’re here,” she continued sadly. She knew the two had a rocky past. Bucky had been accused of murdering T’Chaka, and T’Challa had set out to kill him before learning that it was another man, Helmut Zemo, who had been trying to frame him. While they had made up and forgiven each other, Bucky always felt some sort of guilt that Shuri noticed when he spoke to T’Challa. She felt that he needed to know that he did see him as a friend and brother.
“I hope,” he replied uncertainly. “I know I can never replace your brother, but I hope you know that I’m always here for you.”
“You are my brother too,” Shuri whispered. The tearful “thank you” and tight hug was enough to show her that he believed her.
Now, Bucky watched from the corner as an elder came to bring a flower to Shuri. She spoke in Xhosa and Shuri replied in her native tongue to tell her she was ready. It wasn’t completely true, but she knew it was too late to change her mind now. This was what she had to do.
“Hope that you fall in love and it hurts so bad. The only way you can know is to give it all you have. And I hope that you don’t suffer but take the pain. Hope when the moment comes, you’ll say:”
Shuri woke in a colorful field. Her corset was gone, replaced with an ancient robe that came near her ankles. There was a tree nearby, several dark-furred panthers lying in the branches. One of them looked up as she came closer, sleeking down the trunk and morphing into a familiar figure; T’Challa.
T’Challa was smiling as he looked at his sister, his eyes warm and proud. Shuri felt like crying as he came forward and pulled her into a hug before saying a single word. “I’ve missed you, Brother,” she choked out, cursing herself silently for sounding so upset. She had to be strong. She had to prove that she was ready.
“I have missed you as well,” T’Challa replied, pulling away from the hug to look at Shuri. “You are worried that you are not ready.”
“You were meant to be king for many more years,” Shuri reminded him. “Baba was king for many years before his death and he still died far too soon. I’m not supposed to be here right now. I’m not supposed to be a queen.”
T’Challa gave her a sad smile, looking over his shoulder at another panther that was watching from the trees. Shuri silently wondered if it was T’Chaka, but didn’t ask. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to know that her father was there but couldn’t speak to her. “When father died, I didn’t think I was ready,” he told her as he turned back. “I always imagined that he would step down before dying of old age many years in the future. I never expected such a sudden, unexpected incident to take his life from us.”
Shuri glanced at her bare feet, remembering the call that had came over her Kimoyo Beads from T’Challa years ago. She had been hopeful and excited when her brother called, wanting to hear all about the Sokovia Accords and the Avengers that he knew he was likely to meet. She had felt her heart snap when he instead told her that their father had been killed.
“I felt like I was too young to be king,” he continued. “But you are much younger than I was at the time. You haven’t lived your life yet. You haven’t fallen in love. You haven’t seen the world. You have so much ahead of you.
“I don’t want this to take your life. I want you to live. To fall in love, to see the world. I want the people to scream your name. I want them to see how amazingly smart you are.” T’Challa looked in her eyes as he spoke. “You deserve all the best things in life, Shuri.”
“But so did you,” Shuri whispered, feeling tears collecting in her eyes. T’Challa was older than her, but he was still young. He was in love, but he never got to be married and raise a family. He saw different places in the world, but there was so many places he wanted to visit and never had the chance. People didn’t come to know him as the Black Panther. They didn’t worship him in the same way they did the Avengers.
“You deserved to live.”
“I, I did it all. I, I did it all. I owned every second that this world could give. I saw so many places, the things that I did. With every broken bone I swear I lived.”
“I did, Sister,” T’Challa said softly. “Look at all that I’ve done. I’ve been the Black Panther. I’ve been King of Wakanda. I’ve fought alongside the Avengers. I’ve fell in love… I swear to you, Shuri. I have lived. Now, it’s your turn.”
“T’Challa…”
“Shuri, look at me.”
Shuri looked up at T’Challa, her eyes swollen with tears. It was hard for her to look at her brother now, knowing that he is no longer in the living world. He had already passed to the next world. She would not see him again. Not until she passed into that world. It was something that she didn’t want to think about.
“I love you with all my heart, Shuri,” T’Challa said quietly. “Before everything, you are my baby sister. I want you to have everything. You deserve it. Never forget that. It is your turn to shine.”
“I don’t want to do it without you,” Shuri breathed. She feared that if she spoke too loud, her voice might break. “T’Challa, I miss you so much already.”
“I know, I know,” T’Challa murmured. “I miss you too, Shuri. But I will always be with you. From now until the end of time. When you cross the border to this world, I will be here waiting for you. Baba too.” He turned and glanced at the panther that was still watching them from the tree. “But I hope that will not be for many more years.”
“I don’t want to leave you,” Shuri sighed, seeing the illusion starting to fade around her. “Please, Brother.”
“I’m sorry, Shuri.” T’Challa wrapped his arms around his sister once again. “You are more ready than you know. Go now and lead the people of Wakanda. You will be the greatest queen and the greatest Black Panther the world has ever seen.”
“I could never be greater than you, Brother.”
“You will,” he countered. “You’ll see. Good luck, Shuri. You’ll do great.”
“Hope that you spend your days but they all add up. And when that sun goes down hope you raise your cup. I wish that I could witness all your joy and all your pain. But until my moment comes, I’ll say:”
“Shuri?”
Shuri turned around. She was in her lab, working on the new Panther Habit. Even if T’Challa’s would have fitted her, she felt wrong using it. She had designed it specifically for him. It was his. It would always be his. “Yeah?”
“Are you alright?” Bucky asked, stepping closer. He and Sam had decided to stay behind for a few weeks. They said it was simply because they weren’t busy, but Shuri knew it was because Bucky was worried about her. He didn’t do a great job of hiding it, but she couldn’t blame him. This was someone who had lost everything; he had a right to be worried about the few people he had found in his new life.
“I’m fine,” she assured him, turning back to focus on her work again. She heard a clinking noise as he fiddled with his metal arm. She had been the one to design it and build it for him. She had not been fond of the idea of asking him to fight when Thanos was threatening the world, but she knew that he would never let Steve fight alone. “How about you? You seem to be doing better?”
And that was true. He looked a lot happier and healthier now than the last time she had saw him. His hair was cut shorter now like it was in pictures she had seen of him in the 1940s. Still, he frowned now at the question as he leaned against the wall. “Been better. Been worse,” he shrugged a bit. “Sam’s nice. He’s given me a home that I don’t feel like I deserve.”
Shuri started to speak but Bucky gave her a warning glare. “I know what you’re going to say,” he told her. “It wasn’t me, right? That’s what Steve said too. I thought that we were fine, you know. He said he didn’t blame me. I thought we were getting somewhere. Thought I could tell him soon. Look how that turned out for me.”
Shuri frowned at the hurt in his expression. She knew that he loved a Steve. She didn’t see that ever changing. But Steve lived a woman and left Bucky for her. She understood why he was so upset. And she also knew that although he was healing, he wasn’t completely stable. She hated to think of the possibilities. She couldn’t lose him too. Not so soon after losing T’Challa.
“Sorry,” he sighed. “I’ll be okay, really. It… It’s been better. I just miss him, you know?”
“I know,” she told him. She slowly moved over and pulled him into a hug. She knew that physical contact wasn’t Bucky’s favorite thing, but she also knew that she was one of the few people who had permission to do so. “I love you, James.”
Bucky pressed his face into her shoulder and she thought that she could faintly feel him smiling against her clothes. That wasn’t something that hadn’t happened often since Steve left. “Love you too… Sis.”
“I, I did it all. I, I did it all. I owned every second that this world could give. I saw so many places, the things that I did. With every broken bone I swear I lived.”
Shuri smiled softly before pulling out of the hug. “I needed to talk to you, actually,” she told him. She could see his face morph into a mixture of surprise, confusion, and curiosity.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she confirmed, leading him over to an area where they could both sit. “As you already know, I am the youngest child of King T’Chaka. I was the last in line for the throne, and until I have children of my own, the bloodline ends with me.”
Bucky nodded to show he was listening. He didn’t speak, a habit that he had picked up when he was under Hydra’s control. He had told her that he was only allowed to speak when given permission, and that was a rare occasion. He had gotten better about it, but still seemed to struggle at times.
“Because of this, I am required to name a successor in the event that something happens to me,” Shuri continued. She paused, meeting Bucky’s eyes. She could see the exact moment that the words sunk in and the man understood what she was saying.
“Shuri, no,” he said sternly. “That— that’s not a good idea and you know it.”
“Why not?” she countered. “You’re my brother, Bucky. You’re the White Wolf. You—”
“I’m a weapon, Shuri,” he pressed. She watched him clench the fist of his metal arm. “I’m the Winter Soldier. I’m— I’m a monster. I’m not a hero and I’m definitely not a prince. And even if I wasn’t, the people would never accept me. I’m a white man.”
“And I am the queen,” Shuri told him, standing up. “T’Challa made you an honorary Wakandan long ago, therefore I am yourqueen.”
“Shuri, please. Listen to me. It’s not a good idea,” Bucky told her. “I mean, I barely even know the language. I don’t live here anymore. I just visit. I can’t— I’m not the right person for this. There has to be someone else. Okoye? Nakia? Sh*t, shouldn’t it be Nakia?”
“Bucky,” Shuri started softly, making sure the man was looking in her eyes. “There is no one else that I want to be my successor. You are not just my first choice. You are my only choice. You’ve come so far. The people respect you. The children love you.” She smiled and tapped his metal hand. “They trust you with our most precious weapon.”
“(With every broken bone) I swear I lived. (With every broken bone) I swear I—”
Bucky flexed the arm, looking it over. “When I was with Hydra, I was the weapon,” he said quietly. “Not my arm. Not the programming they put in my head. Me. They didn’t even treat me like I was a human being. I was an animal to them. They broke me, Shuri. You don’t want a broken man to be the heir to the throne.”
“We are all a little broken, Brother,” Shuri told him. “Griot, could you pull up file T-189, please.”
“Of course,” Griot replied, pulling up a holographic image of T’Challa. It was a video, actually, that was currently paused. She turned to Bucky before commanding Griot to play the message.
“Are you sure about this?” The timid-sounding voice off-screen belonged to Bucky. “What if it doesn’t work? What if I hurt one of you?”
“Shuri has been working on this for months,” T’Challa assured him. “I believe that my sister is the best engineer in the universe. If there is anyone on this planet who can help you, it is her.”
The recording morphed. T’Challa was in a different outfit now. He was sitting, as well. He had a smile on his face. “I am glad to hear he is doing well,” he was saying. “I hope that he is able to forgive me for the past. I truly believe that he is a great person.”
“He is one of us now,” the image had changed once again. “White Wolf is a title that has never been given in the Golden Tribe, and I do not take this decision lightly. Sergeant Barnes has become a brother to me, and I am honored to give him the title.”
One last time, the image changed. This time, T’Challa was lying in bed. He looked sick, and Shuri knew that was because he was. He knew he was dying. He knew that he didn’t have much time left. “Have you called him?” he asked.
“He is very busy, Sir,” someone replied.
“Did you call him?” T’Challa repeated.
“King T’Challa, he is a white man. Are you sure that you want him here?” The off-screen voice replied.
“Bucky is my brother,” T’Challa replied. “He is my brother whether you like it or not, and I want him here. Now go and call him before I get up and call him myself. And be respectful to your prince when you speak to him.”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
“He wanted me here?” Bucky asked, his voice quiet. His eyes were fixed on the holographic figure. “He… He called me his brother.”
“He did,” Shuri assured him. She smiled and stepped in front of him. “He also called you a prince. So… PrinceJames Buchanan Barnes. I, Queen Shuri, hereby ask you to accept the title of heir to the throne of the Golden Tribe of Wakanda.”
“You are sure that this is what T’Challa would have wanted?” Bucky asked.
“Positive.”
Bucky closed his eyes, lowering his head. He took a shaky breath before looking up at her again. She noticed his eyes move to look at the now-frozen hologram as if he was asked T’Challa for permission. Slowly, he looked back at her and raised his arms, crossing them over his chest. “Wakanda forever.”
Shuri smiled brightly and mimicked the action. It was the first time that she had seen Bucky use it. For a moment, she was sent back to a time when she would repeat the action to T’Challa like she had done time and time again. Bucky was right. He could never replace T’Challa, but he could help her fulfill his wishes. He could help her live the life that T’Challa wanted her to live.
“Wakanda forever.”
“I, I did it all. I, I did it all. I owned every second that this world could to give. I saw so many places, the things that I did. With every broken bone I swear I lived. I swear I lived.”
Characters: Ransom and reader, Linda Drysdale, Harlan Thrombey
Words: 1531 including lyrics from the song
Warnings: heartbreak, deception, angst
Summary: After a year at your dream job, you want another dream to come true. However, someone has another plan for you.
A/N: So, this is the first story I am writing based on this song. I plan on writing more stories based on songs I hear. Something fun to do this summer.
Thanks to all of you who continue to support and read my writings. With much Love… Denise Marie
You walked into Blood Line Wine Publishing house just as you did the last 365 days with much pride and determination to be the best editor the company has ever seen. Fresh out of college, your dream job landing in your lap due to your tenacity and of course your relationship with Ransom.
Request: Can you do a Carl Grimes songfic one shot to “Pull Me Down” by Mikky Ekko? Thank you so much I love your blog!! <3
A/N~ Thank you, anon. I’m sorry it took me so long to get this done. I was really excited to write this one, but I feel like it turned out really bad and I’m so sorry that it took me like a week to write this…:(
Warnings: Implied Smut
Word Count: 1405
~~~
You always tried to be active in the group, even when you were a little eleven year old girl. Your father raised you to be tough and strong. How else would you expect the daughter of Merle Dixon to be raised? You weren’t racist or, well, rude like your father, but you gained a few of his traits. You gained his strength, his stubbornness, and his ‘I don’t need anyone’ attitude, but another trait you earned from your father was that you liked trouble. A lot. You just couldn’t help it. It was in your blood…
“Oh I heard you were trouble
And you heard I was trouble
But your name is a wave washing over me
No games just a slave to you totally
Cause I don’t care about what they say about you virgo
And you don’t care about what they say about me virgo
But you know what they say about trouble”
When you first met Shane and the group with your uncle and your dad, you completely hated it. You felt like they were judging you and your family and you didn’t like it one bit. But then you met Carl…and he made you feel like you belonged.
Your father kept telling you to stay away from Carl. He said that Carl was just some little boy that was probably going to die and that the only thing that matters is your family sticking together. He said that if you forgot that, Carl would get you killed too and he couldn’t let that happen.
You also knew that Shane and Lori, along with most of the group, were telling Carl to stay away from you. They told him that you were nothing but trouble and that you would just hurt him. You were the girl that snuck out of camp all the time and ran off when you thought you something in the woods. You liked pranking people and sneaking off to kill walkers. To the group, you were nothing but a bad influence on Carl, but Carl didn’t care at all. He couldn’t help the crush he had on you. You made him feel free and he was completely in love with you, even if he was only twelve years old. He knew he was in love with you and he would do anything for you. That’s what terrified his mother. He would do anything for you and honestly, when you ran off in search of your father when Rick handcuffed him to the roof, she was sorta happy. She had one less thing to worry about…
“Pull me down if you want to
and I hope that you want to
Cause I want to be your man
And I wanna say it loud
You can show me where trouble goes
Tell me secrets only trouble knows
Cause you wanna be my girl
And you wanna say it loud”
When you arrived at the prison gates, looking for your uncle, to say Carol was shocked would be an understatement. She almost didn’t even open the prison gates. She was just paralyzed with the shock and the happiness. After she found out her daughter died, she thought that you surely died. Everyone did. Maggie ran over, telling her to let in the girl before she’s eaten. Rick was there right away with a gun pointed at you.
“Who are you?” Rick said, not recognizing you. You didn’t even bat an eye. You just slowly placed your gun to the ground and put your hands behind your head.
“I don’t want any trouble. I just want to know where I can find Daryl Dixon. you said calmly. Daryl slowly walked out with his crossbow in hand, but when he saw you, it dropped to the floor. Wordlessly, you ran into each other’s arms, hugging one another with all that you had.
“Dammit, (Y/N)! Where have you been?” He said sternly, pulling away from the hug.
“I went to look for dad, but there was a hoard of walkers and I ran. I couldn’t find my way back…” You told him as you stepped back to take a look at all the unfamiliar faces. Suddenly, one face caught your eye. Just a few yards away was Carl Grimes.
‘Two years makes a lot of difference, huh?’ You thought to yourself as the boy started to look your way.
“(Y/N)!” Carl yelled as he started jogging over to you. When he reached you, he instantly threw his arms around you. The love he had for you still relevent two years later.
After introducing yourself to some of the group and answering Rick’s questions, you started catching up with Carl. Everyone in the group liked you quite a bit and welcomed you in. Glenn, Carol, and Daryl were just glad to have you there in one piece. Even if you were a trouble maker and you did put the chili powder you found on a run in Glenn’s underwear, they still wanted you to be alive.
You and Carl instantly connected again, laughing and playing as if nothing ever happened.
“Oh, and do you remember when Dale taught us how to work the RV, that was the best…” You said, reminiscing the times you had with Carl.
“Yeah, but do you remember when T-Dog taught us how to beatbox.” Carl spoke chuckling.
“I can’t believe you’re back…” He said, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.
“Well, I am…” You smiled over at him.
“You’re prettier than I remember…” He whispered, both of you smiling happily.
“I think I love you…” You whispered back to him.
“Love you too…” He mumbled back, hesitantly pressing his lips to yours.
“Your uncle’s not gonna like this.” He laughed, grabbing your hand , starting to show you around the prison. Proudly showing off your locked hands.
“I want you to know that I’ve got your back
Even when the whole foundation seems cracked
Two punk kids up against the world
Ya trouble, there goes trouble
We could be king and queen of the moonlight
Two young lovers
and when the mood’s right
you hear me say ‘I want you'”
It had been a full three years and you and Carl had been through so much together. You two had finally found the time to sit outside by a calm lake. It brought you back to the camp you guys stayed in with the group all those years ago. It was a nice, but rare, occurrence for you guys to be able to just sit and look at the stars nowadays. It was usually just you and your very small group running from place to place, trying to run from walkers and people. All of you were always worn out from the constant traveling and the loss of your friends and loved ones. But, at that moment, it was just you and Carl and it couldn’t be more perfect.
You two sat snuggled together, sharing occasional kisses. You turned your head, stealing another kiss from Carl’s lips, but this time, you didn’t pull away. Eventually, you pulled away for a breath and realised that you were lying on the ground with Carl hovering above you.
“I love you…” He whispered, connecting your lips again.
“I love you too.” You said against his lips.
He pulled away from you, kissing his way from your jaw to behind your ear before whispering, “I want you…” And your lips connected again with such a force of passion, desire, and love, it had both of your heads spinning, but you couldn’t focus on that. You were too focused on each other and boy was that night perfect.
“Pull me down if you want to
and I hope that you want to
Cause I want to be your man
And I wanna say it loud
You can show me where trouble goes
Tell me secrets only trouble knows
Cause you wanna be my girl
And you wanna say it loud
And you wanna say it loud”
Yeah, Carl would follow you to the grave and you would follow him. Everyone always knew that. Even if you both could be considered bad influences at times. You loved each other and you would always love each other. You would tell the world if you could… Nothing could change that.
pair: ace x thermite ( @elliewan has inspired me from ao3 works!!) and mentions of ash x iq
warnings: insecurity, hurt/comfort i suppose? some fluff n angst
desc: ace isnt always so full of himself, you know.
the song is sunflower by shannon purser! from sierra burgess is a loser. the version in this is the movie version. highly recommend it!
this isnt going along with any of the stories posted, or anything!! just my own little idea that i was thinking of!
in truth, its more like ace is out of thermites league?? im unsure how to explain it other than ace wanting to seem “normal” enough for thermite to like him back, i suppose. also, ace thinks jordan likes women more sorta?? dont expect anything too good :) just an idea
–
rose girls in glass vases perfect bodies, perfect faces they all belong in magazines
“He’s so full of himself. Who would’ve guessed he’s a rescue worker?”
“Maybe he’d be better if he didn’t have his face shoved in the screen all the time, taking selfies.”
Yeah. Håvard heard it all. It never fell on deaf ears for him when it came to insults. They were jealous, he told himself. They envied him, he lied.
When he was alone, on ‘off’ days, was when he fell into such a daze. He’d just lie in bed until someone came and bothered him. Almost never. Who wanted to be around someone only concerned with their self?
Most days. That was how often he prided himself in his looks. His charm. His personality. His skill. He knew he had so much going on that others could only dream of having, but..he was never satisfied. But why? Was it because of his stupid longing for him?
those girls the boys are chasing winning all the games they’re playing they’re always in a different league
He wished the feelings would go away. But he was in too deep. He’d been crushing since the moment they’d met. And now, he was stuck in a quicksand pit of feelings. Maybe a typhoon. A whirlpool, perhaps.
He couldn’t help but chuckle halfheartedly in the darkness of his room, pulling his comforter tighter over his frame, then closing his tired eyes. He was perfectly ready to nap until Max bust in.
“C’mon, Haughland, let’s go! Trace, Weiss, Ela and are going out to town! It’s nice out and you look too sad to mope!”
“Oh, please, I’m fine.” Håvard huffed and covered his head, yelping a bit as the blanket was yanked off, exposing him to the cold.
“Come on! No isn’t an answer!”
And that was how he wound up being dragged along by the short Aussie, ahead of the few others with them. One of the Bosak sisters, he couldn’t pay enough attention to tell which. Ela likely. Then Monika. Whoever else, Håvard didn’t know.
However, when he glanced back, he felt his heart sink just a little more. Monika and Jordan talking. He hated this feeling of jealousy and how close they seemed. But..it was likely work, right? Yeah, that’s what it was.
stretching toward the sky like i don’t care wishing you could see me standing there
He felt a little better after some time, teasing Max a little and laughing a bit. However, time felt to go by so fast as they all found a nice restaurant, pushing together a bit to fit an extra chair for Monika. It felt inconvenient to Håvard, as he was squished up against the man he had feelings for, and then there was Monika, on his other side.
Even worse was that he felt invisible as they talked something about a new gadget to test in the lab. And to make it even worse? He was asked to scoot over, but complied silently. He felt a little bad for seeming so grumpy, but he ignored Monika as she asked if he was alright.
So, they ordered, all of them picking something fairly healthy, minus Håvard, who just got a straight up salad. That was the healthiest he could find. Even upset, he wanted to keep his diet. It wasn’t very busy, so it took a short while for them to receive their food. And while everyone else ate just fine, he felt suddenly disinterested, poking at the sad looking salad on his plate. Maybe it was only sad because of him. Maybe he was contagious.
“You should eat, Haughland.” Someone said to him, but he waved his hand dismissively, just drawing little patterns in the condensation on the cup, almost smiling until he heard Monika say something.
“…Yes, I suppose we could do that. I can’t wait.”
He blinked at the cup, then frowned at his own slightly distorted reflection. He glanced up, where Max sat, perfectly still. Max had heard just as much as he had.
With a slight cough, he got to his feet. “I’ll be right back. Uh..smoke break.” He was lying through his teeth, but any excuse to step away would be lovely.
“But you don’t smoke?” Ela said, narrowing her eyes as if confused.
“There’s a lot you don’t know.” He smiled slightly, which he knew lacked it’s usual charm. He just stepped outside, leaning on the wall.
but i’m a sunflower, a little funny if i were a rose, maybe you’d want me
For a second, he let tears he didn’t know he’d been holding back to fall. No sobs. Just silent tears and a slight whimper as he gazed up to the sky, eyes focused on a fluffy white cloud. It looked like a snail.
He smiled slightly, but that quickly faded when he heard a ring of a bell and he turned, to where Jordan stood, looking awfully worried. He wiped his tears quickly with the sleeves of his turtleneck.
“Are you o- no you’re not.”
“I am.” He argued back with a small smile, which was actually kind of genuine. But it didn’t last long.
“What happened? Did you…Did you lose someone?”
“Sort of in a way. Or so it feels.” Håvard shrugged as Jordan leaned on the brick wall beside him.
“Talk to me. If..you want, of course.”
“No, I’m fine.” He laughed a little, shaking his head a bit. “It isn’t important anymore. I’ve cried over it. I’m done.”
“You admitted you cried!” Jordan huffed and crossed his arms. “So you’re not- or weren’t okay?”
“I..suppose you could say that.” He shrugged, a little more serious now.
if i could, i’d change overnight i’d turn into something you’d like
“Then..can I ask what’s wrong?”
Håvard paused a long moment, then sighed. “You. And it isn’t really your fault.”
Jordan paused himself, then tilting his head. “What d’ya mean?”
He hesitated, then smiled slightly. “Monika. You’re going on a date with her, I heard. I just-”
“Oh! That? That isn’t a date. Really.” Jordan said, waving his hands slightly. “Just some tests on my charges. Weiss is eager to see if we can make the hole it creates a bit bigger. Who’d think sheof all people would be excited to do such a thing?”
He laughed a bit and Håvard smiled a bit.
“I’m sorry, then. I just..”
“Like me. I know, silly. Not hard to tell. Trust me on that much.” Jordan grinned and leaned on the wall beside him. “But..I don’t like Weiss. As a friend, sure. But nothing more. And she’s the same, trust me. She drools over Eliza.”
Håvard felt his face flush and he laughed a bit. “I wish I was a bit less thick-skulled. Maybe I would have noticed.” He paused. “Is that the right phrase? I think that’s what you all say..”
Jordan frowned a bit. “We don’t mean to hurt your feelings, you know.” He said, voice more soft now. “Just..I don’t know how to put it..”
but i’m a sunflower, a little funny if i were a rose, maybe you’d pick me
“Not always. I know.” He smiled. “I’ve accepted it.”
“I mean it, A- Håvard.”
“You said my name right-”
“Practice.” Jordan smiled a bit. “But..that’s not my point. What I mean is..you can be a bit..arrogant. But, I don’t always see you that way. Not everyone does. But I won’t say there aren’t times where people are annoyed.”
Håvard snorted a little. “I know that much, silly!” He smiled. “I just..get insecure. And..And before you go on about how I have so much, it doesn’t mean I’m happy. Content, maybe, but..not exactly happy.”
Jordan paused, as if waiting an explanation. He didn’t wait long.
“It’s more so because..I wonder if I’m enough. I..I figure you can tell I like you…no, I’m in love with you, but..am I enough?”
Jordan opened his mouth to speak, but Håvard stopped him.
“I may not be. But..I’ll change..I’ll change for you.”
but i know you don’t have a clue this sunflower’s waiting for you waiting for you
And that was when Jordan seized him by she shoulders and kissed him like there was no one watching. And while no one really was, they could’ve been seen. But neither cared.
Håvard was pleasantly lightheaded when Jordan let go, laughing a bit like he’d gone hysterical. It took him a minute to recover.
“You don’t have to change for me, you stupid snowball of confidence and- and-” Jordan huffed, just pulling Håvard close in effort to suffice in place of words. And suffice it did, as he seemed to finally be able to genuinely fully smile for the first time that day.
but i’m a sunflower, a little funny if i were a rose, maybe you’d pick me but i know you don’t have a clue this sunflower’s waiting for you waiting for you
After a while, they stepped back inside. Max looked awfully surprised, but grinned as he saw his friend smiling and happy.
They left shortly, Jordan and Håvard hanging back, walking beside one another, hands touching every so often. They said nothing, but they were happy.
And no, they weren’t together. Just..happy for the time being.
And that was okay.
–
IM SO PROUD OF THIS IDK WHY THE BEGINNING ISNT TOO GOOD BUT IDM IM HAPPY AND I LOVE IT
also i thought of thermite calling ace snowball would be cute bc i think mans has platinum blonde hair and burns really easy in the sun bc hes so pale
a/n: i am absolutely in LOVE with this song and fred weasley!!! i highly suggest listening to Bang the Doldrums by Fall out Boy either before or during your read!
c/w: alcohol use
————————————————————
You and Fred Weasley always had a sort of- how to put it- tension. Since you had met in your 3rd year, there was always a wink or sly remark thrown your way, and vice versa, but you thought it meant nothing from him. You kept it to yourself, but, you had always had a crush on the lanky ginger boy who had grown to become your best friend. You would sooner enter the forbidden forest alone than ruin your friendship with him over some little feelings.
Tonight, though, you were toying with the idea that maybe your crush was not so little. You, the Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione were playing a game of Truth, Dare, or Drink. Now, this wasn’t so bad until the twins brought out a small green vial and sat it in the center of the criss-crossed circle you all had formed on the floor.
“Firewhiskeyand veritaserum? Really boys?” Hermione complained, her tone suggesting that, this time, they had taken the game too far.
“Whaat? It’s not like we’ll ask anything too revealing,” Fred replied with a wink at you. Your cheeks grew hot, probably just the whiskey, right? You always hated truth or dare, your friends had a habit of choosing the most embarrassing dares and the most revealing truths, but then, what was a Weasley game without some spark?
“Fine but I’m choosing dare on every single one of my turns,” Hermione rebutted with a knowing grin.
“Sure! No shame in that,” the twins said in unison. You always wondered just how they did that, sometimes their joint sentences were so long it was almost impressive.
“Alright settle down ladies and gentlemen, the game is about to begin!” George said in a mock-announcer voice. “What brave soul dares go first?” Your stomach ached slightly with nerves hoping that someone would volunteer before one of the twins chose you first.
“I think Y/n should go first!” dammit Fred. Of course, the group murmured a cluster of agreement. “Right then, truth or dare?” he asked you innocently.
“umm… dare?” you said, silently cursing your friends who put you into this awful position.
“Dare! Wonderful choice, Y/l/n. I dare you to eat a puking pastille!” Your face contorted with disgust. Fred saw this and cheekily replied, “or you could always drink instead!”
“Drink it is,” you replied before taking a swig from your glass, coughing at the burn in your throat.
The game continued on for a few more rounds with Ron telling his most embarrassing school story, George receiving a chocolate that caused him to make varied cat-noises for 30 seconds, and Harry taking at least 3 drinks. When it got to Hermione, though, you were less than focused on her play. Fred had removed his jacket, and you noticed his collar had been undone slightly, and his hair, God, it was perfectly messy, and his smile was lethal, and those eyes-
“Right, Y/n,” Ginny started, “truth or dare?” Your thoughts were cut off, as the game had finally returned to you. You dreaded your answer, but the dares thrown at the others seemed to grow worse with each round, so you reluctantly replied, “Truth,” immediately regretting your words.
The group cheered and George handed you the vial of veritaserum. You took a sip, and as you swallowed, Ginny asked her question. “Do you fancy someone in this room?”
You nearly choked on the potion. You could feel the redness creep to your cheeks, but you couldn’t help yourself from replying, “Yes!” Startled by your own words, your hands flew to your mouth. Everyone leaned in toward you, overlapping their “oo"s and whistles.
"Really?!” She replied, now excited, having received a different answer than she expected. “Who?” she pried. You hoped that Hermione would but in just then, stating that two questions weren’t allowed in the rules, but she was just as interested to know as the rest of them.
You fought to keep in your answer, but it found itself to your lips and you unwillingly replied “Fred!” You cringed and dipped your head down to avoid eye contact with your friends, but the girls squealed and the guys began patting Fred on the back, echoing in cheers and praises.
Suddenly your ears were filled with questions about how long you’d fancied him, did he know, and why didn’t you tell us?! All you could do was blush and grip your glass close to your mouth, pretending to drink.
The game was now over, this new, exciting information took precedent over some silly game. You hadn’t even stopped to notice the red tint on your counterpart’s cheeks, or the fact that he hadn’t spoken a word since you blurted out your secret.
Eventually, George said something that took the attention off of you and Fred, and you were able to talk to him without the extra pairs of eyes and ears on you.
“Hey I’m sorry about that it’s probably just the whiskey I-” your rambles were cut off by Fred’s interruption.
“It’s alright, we’re best friends!”
You blurted: “Better off as lovers, and not the other way around,” and again, your hands covered your mouth. Was it leftover veritaserum? Or was it just the newfound confidence you felt now?
Fred looked shocked, your confidence faltered, he doesn’t think the same as you, of course he doesn’t. He steps toward you. “Do you really think so?” Your eyes become glued to the shag carpet beneath you. Then, he lifts your chin with his finger. “Darling I’ve been waiting to hear that for ages, you have no idea.”
Your eyes grow wide, “You’re not joking are you? Fred if you are it’s not funny,” you say with a warning tone.
“Don’t worry, princess, I’m not that cruel,” he says with a chuckle. Princess, huh? That used to be something he said when you were being lazy or pouting, but now it felt different.
“So what now?” you asked.
“Can I kiss you?” he replied. You can’t believe he even asked, that was way out of character for your best friend. You nodded, nevertheless, and he planted a sweet kiss on your lips. You were way too enthralled by Fred’s lips on yours to notice that the room had gone completely silent, and your friends had turned their attention back to you.
Eventually, Ron and George started cheering and Harry joined in. You pulled away abruptly and your cheeks grew red once again. Fred laughed and your fingers touched your lips, still in disbelief that your best friend just kissed you.
a/n: heres a short little draco fic to daddy issuezs by the neighborhood. it is small. enjoy!
tw: panic attack, mentions of murder
you and draco had been friends since your first year at hogwarts. you had been sorted into slytherin, when you had hoped for ravenclaw, and he was quite possibly the slytherin-iest slytherin there ever was. he took you under his wing the moment he saw you, you looked so out of place, and he was determined to fix that.
now, nearly 6 years later, you two had become closer than ever. you were his rock, and he yours. yiu had helped him deal with his paternal troubles, and, in return, he offered protection from the ministry. this proved extremely useful in recent years since your dad, who you hadn’t been associated with since you were 12, was a killer. he was in and out of azkaban constantly, and felt the need to send you letters with plans to “visit” you. you threw them away as soon as the owl arrived anymore. you hated him. all he did was cause you trouble. he’d killed your mom, leaving you alone. since then, draco had taken you into the malfoy manor. as kind as this was, you hated being there. everything was so sharp and dreary, and his parents were nothing short of intimidating. they had always treated you kindly, but they still scared you nontheless. draco wasn’t fond of them either, but a place to stay is a place to stay.
today, you felt like every set of eyes was on you. the whispers in the hallway, followed by fearful eyes pointed directly at you. you kept your head down until you found out why you were the subject of everyone’s conversations. then it hit you. the newspaper. everyone had it, but you had chosen do discard any copy of the daily prophet that ended up in your possession. you were almost entirely sure it was your dad again. it always was.
“everyone shut it!” draco shouted to those whipering in the halls. “go back to your dorms or shut up! you have no business in this matter.”
“thanks draco,” you whispered, holding your books to your chest. “it’s probably my dad again, i don’t want to know, honestly.” you fidgeted with a piece of leather that was peeling off of the cover of one of your books. “probably out of azkaban again. ridiculous. i hate him.”
“i know, y/n, just don’t worry about it.” she was right, he had escaped once again. draco had seen the paper this morning, but this time, he had threatened the ministry. he was determined to kill again, but he never said who.
“let’s just get to class, i need a distraction. what do we have next, anyway?” you asked, hoping it was something you at least enjoyed.
“erm… herbology i think,” he replied. thank goodness it was tolerable, you felt like throwing something, so plant-based work was a nice, peaceful option.
you picked up your walking pace to make it to the greenhouse on time, but you weren’t able to avoid the eyes that followed you with every turn.
by the end of the day, a newspaper had ended up in your hands. your curiosity got the better of you, and you read it. the moment you locked eyes with the picture of your father, your lungs gave out. you were standing in the slytherin common room, but that changed quite quickly. you speedwalked to the nearest couch and practically fell into it. the paper fell from your hands and you noticed just how much your hands had been shaking.
“y/n? are you alright?” draco asked, his voice laced with worry. then, he saw the paper laying at your feet. your eyes were fixed on the wall, and your breath quickened. “y/n, love. it’s alright,” he said calmly, taking a seat beside you. this wasn’t the first time he had to walk you through a panic attack. his hands found yours and he squeezed them lightly. your eyes finally moved, and tears fell down your cheeks. you attempted to slow down your breathing, but with every breath came a sob. he pulled you toward him and laid your head on his chest. he pet your hair, knowing that it calms you down.
“go ahead and cry, little girl. nobody does it like you do. i know how much it matters to you,” he said, reassuring you. he was out of ideas, so, he tried to get you to laugh. “i know that you’ve got daddy issues, and i do too,” he chuckled a little, and, through tears, you did, too. “there’s my girl,” he said quietly. “it’s alright love, he’s not here. and if he was, i’d avada kedavra him quicker than you can say ‘butterbeer.’”
you laughed. “thanks draco, i don’t know what i’d do without you.” you wiped a tear from your cheek and looked up at the boy who might as well have saved your life.
“honestly? me neither,” he said, matter-of-factly. he leaned down and placed a small kiss on your forehead. “off to bed now, dearie,” he said in a more posh accent than usual. “you’ve class in the morning, got to be up early and all.”
“right,” you said with a roll of your eyes. “like you don’t stay up till ungodly hours of the morning.”
he tutted in response. “not about me!” and with that, he planted a kiss on your cheek and cooly walked up the stairs to the boys’ dormitory.
your hand flew up to your cheek, which you were sure, had it not been dark, would have been 4 shades darker than normal. what had gotten into him?
a/n: thank you for all the support on my last fic! this one was sort of a request from @fungusbabeyenjoy!!
t.w.: none!
draco malfoy was the unspoken king of the slytherin house. he presented himself as a leader, spiteful, hateful, and plain rude, but a leader nonetheless. he was, of course, the heir to the malfoy legacy, but his actions were no more fueled by pride than fear. he lived every minute of his life surrounded by his father. from “my father will be hearing about this!” to “i mustn’t disappoint my father” and then to “am i going to be my father?” draco was tired from trying to be both exactly like and the furthest from his father at all times. his thoughts were always occupied with his troubles, his trauma, and his name. malfoy. that’s all he’d ever been called, all he’d ever known, and all he’d ever come to be proud of. that is, until a certain y/h/c lady caught his attention.
she was merely sitting in his transfiguration class, doing her work, and excelling in it, as per usual, and he’d never seemed to notice her at all, at least up to this point. professor mcgonagall had decided that, despite the resulting groans and sighs, she was going to assign a partner project, even worse, she was choosing the partners. crabbe and goyle still somehow ended up with each other, blaise and millicent were paired, leaving pansy and theodore (who also became partners). draco, of course, he thought, was alone.
“mister malfoy and,” she paused for an eternity before continuing. “and miss y/l/n.” a small, sly smile appeared on the professors face, but only draco had seemed to notice.
“so uh, draco, i guess we’re partners?” y/n said, setting her books down on the desk beside the boy.
“guess so” he said, following a scoff, but he gazed at her when she looked away. he pretended not to care, he tried so hard to stay bitter, but her eyes drew him in so deep, it was impossible to look away.
when class ended, he made a point to leave just after her, shrugging off crabbe and goyle when they questioned his actions. he followed her until she reached her destination; a willow. no, not the whomping willow (thank goodness), but a simple weeping willow, sat just off the castle grounds. it had a nice, distant view of the quidditch pitch, and was surrounded by tiny wildflowers. draco had kept enough distance to remain unseen, but he watched her every move from him position. she sat below the tree and took a small leather-bound journal from her satchel, as well as a quill.
homework? really? he watched further, and she began to sketch her surroundings. he stared..and stared…and stared some more. the sun was beginning to set before he realized how long he had been standing, staring at y/n, when she was hardly doing anything at all. he grew hot, and started off toward the castle to think in his dorm.
the next day, and for a week after, he followed her to the same willow, watched her draw, and returned to the slytherin common room. draco’s actions didn’t go unnoticed by his peers. each time he left after transfiguration, stayed missing for hours, and returned without a single explanation for his strange disappearance.
“malfoy, where’ve you been, mate?” blaise had asked after his first count of being MIA. “you’ve been gone for hours.”
“none of your business,” he spat back.
“he’s right malfoy, you’ve been gone all day,” crabbe chimed in. “got a secret snog or somethin’ you’re not telling us about?”
“it’s absolutely none of your business you gits, shove off,” and with that, he was gone again, to his room to think.
———–
“draco. draco!” voice filled his ears, seemingly out of nowhere.
“what?” he snapped from his zone, meeting a pair of y/e/c eyes.
“are you going to help, or am i going to do the entire project?” she questioned.
“yeah sorry, sorry, what are we doing?” he was completely out of it.
“i swear it’s like you’re not even on the planet this week,” she mumbled. to be entirely honest, he wasn’t. he was too focused on her hands to worry about some stupid project. he had watched her so often that he began to notice little things, like how, when she was meant to be taking notes, she would be sketching a tree or a toad instead. and when she was really focused, the tip of her tongue would leave the corner of her mouth. and every time she wrote an ‘i’ the dot would be in the shape of a spark or a teardrop, or anything that wasn’t an actual dot.
to tell the truth, draco wanted nothing more than to be held by her. he felt completely at ease in her presence, and he never felt more calm than when he was watching her. he wanted to tell her how he felt. it was like she had snuck him a love potion or something, he was completely and utterly entranced by her. but his mind told him that he couldn’t, after all, she’s a lady, and he was just a boy.
“malfoy, honestly, do i need to result to violence?” she hit him lightly on the arm to get his attention. he jerked up to meet her gaze and practically vomited his next words.
“oh, baby i am a wreck when i’m without you.” he grabbed her hand.
“what?” she looked at him, confused by his sudden change of tone.
“i need you here to stay.” he waited for a response, but the lady in question was entirely taken aback. “was it something i said?” he released her hand, mow worried that he had ruined his chances with her.
“no it’s just, it took you long enough,” she giggled, he looked mortified.
“excuse me?”
“what, you don’t think i didn’t notice you following me every day? you’re not exactly slick, draco.” how is it that she could be so calm when he felt like his hands were going to fall off? she laughed again, and he suddenly felt a wave of courage rush over him. he swept up her hair into his hand and pulled her into a brash kiss. she froze, but eventually melted into him. he relaxed a little, and held her cheek in his previously free hand. he pulled away for a second to ask:
Ayeeeeee, I actually wrote something! I’m proud (kinda). It’s a Hawks x reader one shot kinda thing and I finished it today. I’ll edit and post it tomorrow so stay tuned for that. It’s kind of angsty but not a lot (Atleast in my opinion).
Don’t forget, askbox is opennn (pls send me stuff I’m desperate and can’t find the creativity to find my own ideas). Also I forgot to mention this, please be specific as to what you are requesting (like what you want the story to be about) I will not be doing any broad request (unless I’m feeling creative)
