got-somethin'-you-wanna-say-there

On My Own (Harry Hook) Part Four

Originally posted by interwebber

“You swore you’d never hurt me.”

“You swore you’d never leave me On My Own.”

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five


Harry Hook was lying on his bed, one arm resting under his head as he stared stoically at the ceiling. Sure, the bed in the dorm he shared with Gil was comfortable. But, it was too comfortable. It felt nothing like the one back on the ship, or even the one back at your - now is not the time, Harry.

The pirate shook his head as if to shake away his thoughts. He couldn’t let himself get too caught up in his emotions. He had a job to do and it would complicate things too much.

He stood up, walking over to the window that stared out at the school-grounds. “Everything is so much prettier here than in the Isle,” He mumbled to himself. He scoffed as his eyes fell on the statue of the Beast. “And I thought I was full of meself. ‘Least I never had a magical statue made of meself… actually… That’s not a bad idea. A giant statue, dedicated to Harry Hook. With a magnificent, shining hook.”

His self-glorifying thought were interrupted by a half asleep Gil. “Harry, you’re talking to yourself again,” he muttered, covering his head with his pillows.

Harry rolled his eyes, “Go back to sleep, bampot.”Gil grunted in response.

Harry shook his head, looking up at the stars he had been deprived of seeing his entire life. He smirked to himself.

“Well, it wouldn’t hurt to finally have some fun while I wait.”


The knocking on your door started at seven in the morning that Saturday, lasting until 7:10, when you finally got tired of it waking you up from your sleep. You slid on your bunny slippers and stomped to the door in your (embarrassing) teddy bear pajamas, throwing the door open without a second thought. Carlos stood at your door, concerned look on his face before it melted into one of amusement.

“Nice pajamas. Did you rip them off a five year old?”

“Nice hair, did you rip it off a Q-Tip?” You shot back, crossing your arms.

“Ha, very funny. You might want to come down to the courtyard,” He addressed quickly, anxiously shifting from foot to foot. “Like, now.”

“You can wait for me to get dressed,” You replied, turning to walk back into your room before getting pulled away by Carlos. “There’s no time!” He barked, quickly pulling you down the stairs.

“Carlos I am in my teddy bear pajamas and bunny slippers! I can’t go down there!” you shouted, running to keep up with the boy.

“Call it a fashion statement!”


“Holy fadoodle Cakes,” You whispered, staring up at the statue of the Beast. Well, what was the beast. Now it was covered in pirate getup and dead fish. You were pretty sure you could see an octopus up there too.

You pushed to the front of the group of onlookers and found the pirates standing there proudly. One in particular looked very amused at the awe and horror filled gazes. Then, he met your eyes and his grin grew even more.

“Hello, Lass. Come to marvel at yer dear ol’ Harry’s work? Wait… Are ye wearin’ teddy bear pajamas and bunny slippers?” Harry asked, snickering at your attire.

You gave him an indignant gasp, glaring at the laughing boy. “Lay off my teddy bears and bunny slippers! And fix this statue! Now!” You shouted, keeping your voice relatively quiet as to not to alert any of what was going on.

“Now why would I do that, Princess? I put a lot of time and effort into this… this masterpiece, this show of me talents,” He spoke proudly, before giving you a mocking pout, “Do ya not like it, lass?”

“All it proves is your ability to ruin things,” You gritted out, angry at the image the pirates were giving to the children from the Isle. No doubt this little show would make others reluctant to accept the children of villains.

“Oh but darlin’ I’m from the Isle, ruinin’ things is what we do. Or have ye already forgotten?” Harry remarked, stroking your cheek with the hand that normally held his hook.

You clenched your teeth, anger flowing through you at a rapid pace. “No, Harold, I haven’t forgotten. How can I when a perfect reminder is staring me right in the face?” You growled, shoving his hand away with a harshness you didn’t know you still had. The mocking look melted away into one of shock as you stormed away from the insulting scene.

“Awkward…” Gil mumbled from beside him. In seconds he was pinned to the base the statue, an angry Harry holding a forearm to his neck. “You got somethin’ you wanna say, Gil?” He growled, as if daring the other boy to open his mouth.

Gil gulped, opening his mouth to reply, but was cut off by the shrill voice of Fairy Godmother.

“Harry Hook!”


“I can’t believe that little wench made us join the… what do you call it, Gil?” Harry grumbled, looking around the field.

“Tourney team?” Gil offered, tying his hair back.

“Yes. Tourney team. Pent up rage she says,” The pirate scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Course we have pent up rage. Life’s no fun without it. Know what I mean?”

“Mhm,” Gil hummed in reply, peeling the shell off of another egg.

“Will you stop eating those foul eggs?” Harry grumbled, fanning the air as if trying to rid it of the rotten smell. “ I don’t care what yer dad told ye, they won’t make ye any stronger. Maybe your gag reflex from breathing in those… what did that doaty science teacher call them…ah! Noxious fumes. Apparently those mess with yer head, ya know?” The pirate paused, looking at his friend, recalling the half an hour it took him to realize the push sign on a door meant push forwards, not upwards.

“It all makes since now…”


“Harry, for the last time you can’t hook Jay without your hook!” Uma barked at the angry pirate. “Well, when my dad was teaching me to fight as a kid he called this certain punch a hook,” Gil offered. “There we go! Then I’ll punch’em!” Harry remarked, leaning against the willow tree the group of pirates were resting under.

“Practice wasn’t that bad,” Gil muttered. “All we did was exercise. Well, until Harry tripped that blond boy for making fun of his eyeliner. I think he broke his nose.”

“And he made me do pushups! Pushups! Have you seen my arms, Lad!? Do you think I need to do pushups!?” Harry exclaimed. “If we were on the Isle I would have ripped his guts out through his mouth,” He growled, eyes darkening to a deep blue.

“Yeah well we aren’t on the Isle!” Uma stated, giving her first mate a stern look. “We have to lay low here until we finish the plan. You were supposed to stop going off the handle. It’s going to draw more attention.”

“It’s not my fault! I din’t want to come here in the first place, Cap! Things are a wee bit too bright and happy for me here! “ Harry shot back as Gil’s jaw dropped. He had never seen Harry talk back to their captain before. He must be more upset about coming here than he let off.

Uma scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Oh, please. You and I both know Y/N is why you agreed to come, whether you act like it or not. “

“Oh really? And what might the reasonin’ behind that be, Cap?” Harry growled, face flushing red.

“Because she’s the only person I’ve seen that makes you squirm like a worm on a hook with the mere mention of her name,” She shot back.

Harry froze, stopping his hands from fidgeting and pulling at his sleeves anxiously, “I do not!”



Minutes later and the two were still at it, both turning red in the face.

“G-guys?” A voice called from above them. They shared a concerned look before tilting their gazes upward, eyes landing on Gil, who was hanging desperately from a tree branch. “Help!”

“When did he-”

“How did he-”

“Gil!”

@volleyballgirlforever-blog

@ravismorgue

@amillionfandoms-onlyoneme

IT’S HERE.

I managed to escape the tiny people for more than two seconds, so hold on to your butts.

There were quite a few recommendations for a “fake relationship” trope…so I SORT OF took that recommendation. Except, I kinda sorta did something with it that was likely NOT what you you were asking for, so hopefully, you’ll still enjoy. :)

Chapter 1

Barba stared at his phone as he walked off the elevator. He could hardly believe the day was only half over. It felt like he’d been up and running around for hours already.

Maybe if he’d stopped at the second glass of champagne last night, he wouldn’t still be dragging after his third cup of…

His thoughts were interrupted as he turned the corner, crashing into someone on the other side. His coffee cup fell to the ground, bursting open, drops splashing up against the cuff of his perfectly pressed and pristine slacks.

“Great,” he muttered.

“Sorry about that. I…”

Barba was still looking down at the sea of caffeine around him, stepping away before the offending liquid could somehow do further damage.

“Why doesn’t anyone watch where they’re going?”

The woman stepped back, eyes narrowing.

“Alright, then. Allow me to retract my apology.”

Barba was looking up now, just in time to see her hand rise to her hip.

“Excuse me?”

“The apology was a knee jerk reaction. But you’re right. You should have been watching where you were going, so I really don’t need to say I’m sorry. Good luck with your pants.”

Before Barba could respond, her heels clicked past him to the elevator, disappearing behind its doors.

Barba heaved a sigh as he turned for the restrooms, hoping to minimize the damage done.

As he leaned against the bathroom counter, blotting the final splotch, his phone trilled in his coat pocket.

    We have an update on the Lorenz case. Are you far?

Unfortunately, Im still in the building, he thought, before replying.

    Up in a few.

~~~
“Thanks, Fin. It’s just been a bit of a week.”

Fin threw an arm around her, giving her shoulder a tight squeeze. Her eyelashes fluttered, the rapid blinking a sure sign she was doing her best not to cry.

“You know I always got you, girl.”

She nodded, quickly wiping away even the start of tears before continuing.


“Oh, and I didn’t even tell you about the idiot I ran into downstairs. I mean, literally ran into. Staring at his phone, nearly doused me with his coffee, then had the nerve to act like it was my fault.”

“Yeah, well, people are idiots. You know that as well as anyone.”

“But in such increasing numbers.”

Fin smiled, happy to see her follow suit, but as the door to Lieutenant Benson’s office opened, Fin noticed the wrinkle forming across her forehead.

“Somethin’ wrong, Rey?”

Barba walked across the squad room, a file in hand, pausing in front of Fin’s desk as he caught her eye.

It was the woman from the lobby.

“Coffee spills,” she started, “as tragic as they seem, don’t qualify you as a Special Victim.”

“Your friend is hilarious, Tutuola.”

Fin looked back and forth between Reina and Barba and shook his head.

“THIS is the dude you ran into downstairs?”

“The very same. Lucky for me, I have somewhere to be.” Reina turned toward Fin and kissed his cheek. “Don’t be late tonight.”

Fin bit back a grin as he watched her walk toward the elevator, raising an eyebrow as he glanced back at Barba.

“I see you met Rey.”

“Not so much met as encountered. Friend of yours, I take it?”

Fin crossed his arms and cocked his head to one side. “Rey’s my girl. Why? You got somethin’ you wanna say about her?”

“She’s charming,” Barba deadpanned, looking at his watch. “And I have an appointment to get to, so as much as I’d love to hear how the universe brought you lovebirds together, I have to run.”

Fin’s face pulled together in momentary confusion, slowly melting into a smile when he realized Barba’s mistake.

“Don’t let me keep you, then, Counselor.”

~~~

“There’s a fresh pot of coffee on and your three o’ clock is waiting in your office.”

“Thanks, Carmen. Have they been in there long?”

“No. When you texted you were five minutes out, I went ahead and got her settled.”

It was barely after three, but Barba hated being late. He took a breath before entering the office, apologies at the ready.

“Ms. King, sorry to keep you waiting…”

His words drifted as she stood, turning to meet him.

It was her. The woman from the lobby. Fin’s “girl”.


QUESTION: Here’s your chance to participate. Reina is his 3 o’ clock appointment - is she:

A) An expert witness
B) Opposing Counsel 
C) let @ohbelieveyoume decide


We’ll let @ohbelieveyoume set the clock on your votes. 

A Girl Worth Fighting For- 4

Summary: When your brother is drafted into WWII, you do the unthinkable to save him and your family: you take his place, in secret. Bucky x Reader, based on Disney’s Mulan.

AN: I wrote this for @sincerelysaraahh ‘s July month of Fairy Tales.

Words: 886

Warnings: Language, because I can’t seem to write without it.

Tags: @annwhojumps @avengerofyourheart @bovaria @beccaanne814-blog @buckyywiththegoodhair @crapythings @gold-liess @romanovoff @howdoesoneadult @kaaatniss @kmwiinchester @lenavonschweetz @marassberry @marvel-ash @noticulous @sebastianstanismyobsession @time-to-dance-rey @wholockiand @-i-miss-you–

Masterlist   Part 3  

Originally posted by enochianess

“He’s tryin’ to scare you.”

“Well, it’s working.” You walked beside Barnes toward the barracks after eating, your body rigid as you watched for Holmes. Barnes kept his hands tucked in his pockets, though you weren’t sure if that was proper, he didn’t seem to care. You watched a line of men from another company jog by, weary of the passing faces. “What, exactly, is a blanket party?”

“You really don’t want to know.” He frowned, reaching up to adjust the rim of his hat. You look away, lips pressed together.

“What do I do?” You stop at the door to the barracks, Barnes at your side. “It’s not like I can just… Deck the guy.”

“Boy, I wish Steve thought that way.” Barnes laughs and you raise your brows at him. He shrugs, “My pal, Steve. He’s the little guy I mentioned earlier. Always gets into fights he knows he can’t win. Wish he’d take a page from your book.”

“Wish I could take one from his,” you mumble. “I’ve never been in a fight before, but at this rate I just might.”

“It doesn’t always have to end in a fight.” Barnes nudges you and you shake your head. You know he means well, and he’s trying to look out for you, but you wish he didn’t have to. Your whole life, Will had always protected you from anyone who might pose a threat. Grown men wolf whistling at you, guys who stumbled out of bars drunk off their asses in the middle of the afternoon. Now, he wasn’t around, but Barnes was doing the same thing- looking out for you even if you didn’t think they needed to. You hadn’t had to fight back on your own before, but maybe it was time for that to change.

Three days later found you at the range, staring across a field at targets. They stood in a neat row, a fine line just in front of the woods. You found a place between Dugan and Holmes, unfortunately, but Barnes stayed close by as the row of you started shooting. You hesitated and felt Holmes watching you, judging your every move, and took a shot between breaths. When you finally squeeze the trigger, he snorts at you when it grazes the edge of the target. You hold your breath and try again, getting a bit closer. Holmes holds back a laugh and anger boils in your blood as you sit up.

“What’re you doin’?” Dugan harshly whispers at you, but you’re past the point of caring.

“You got somethin’ you wanna say to me?” You sit up on your knees, barking down at Holmes. His grin falls into a glare and he pulls himself up on his feet, looking like he might want to start a fight.

“What was that?” Holmes’s voice is low, but it stings your ears and you take another step closer to him.

“Did I stutter? What’s so damn funny?”

“You got a big bark for a little dog,” he snarls back at you. “You gonna bite or you wanna keep yipping?”

“That’s rich coming from an asshole on legs.” You snort, going to move away. Thinking that, maybe fighting him wasn’t worth it.

“Heard better lip from a girl.” Holmes rolls his eyes, intending to put his back to you. “Bet you fight like one too, pussy.”

“You gotta be shitting me.” You stop, nearly about to sit back down, snapping back around to him. “Fuck off, limp dick.”

Then Holmes lets out a string of curses and grabs the front of your lapel, lifting your feet off the ground. Barnes is yelling and starting toward you, but he isn’t fast enough to stop Holmes from slamming his fist into your jaw. You fall on the ground on your back, your head slamming into the dirt. Dugan and a few others have clamored to their feet and Holmes leans down, intending to drag you up just to knock you down again. But you send a foot in his direction and it catches him in the jaw. Startled, he staggers backward just as Barnes breaks through the crowd and rips him away.

“What the hell is going on?” He roars, his back to you and glowering at Holmes. Holmes tries a half-ass excuse, but Barnes stops listening as he helps you to your feet. Blood pours over your hand as you cover your nose, and he grabs you harshly by the upper arm and drags you toward the infirmary.

“And here I thought you weren’t the kind to start fights.” Barnes sits by you, hands between his knees while a nurse hands you an ice pack and tries to help stop the bleeding in your nose. You shoot him a look and shrug.

“He started it.”

“What did I do to deserve this?” he mumbles, sitting back. “First Steve, and I swear the second he’s not around anymore I get someone who’s just as bad.”

“I wasn’t asking him to punch me in the face,” you offer. Barnes cracks a smile and then the two of you are laughing. He stays with you until the bleeding stops, cracking jokes and telling stories about his friend Steve. It lasts for what feels like forever, long enough that you forget about the bloodied nose.

Part 5