Just a quick something I hate-wrote down at two in the morning. It’s probably shit. But I hope you enjoy it anyway :) This isn’t proofread at all, so please point out any mistakes. Thanks!
Warnings: mostly angst, some fluff, cursing
It was hard sometimes. Pretending to be
happy, when in reality all you were was a broken shell of a person. Ignoring the
ache for acceptance was becoming easier and easier, but sometimes, there were
days when your spirit cried out in agony, wishing to be freed.
Others envied you, thinking that you were
living ‘the life’ – a lavish, carefree life filled with flowing wines,
expensive dishes, silken sheets. In a sense, that was true; you had more than
enough tasty food to eat, an overflow of beverages and drawers of delicate
materials that felt like they swam over your skin. But were you happy? No.
Being part of ‘The Avengers’ sounded like
an exclusive and important job. All of a sudden, shops sold your face on
birthday cards, little figurines of you for children to play with, magazines
with your face disgustingly dolled up and photoshopped onto the front cover. People
aspired to be like you, their faces filled with admiration every time they saw
you. They called you a ‘hero’ and idolised you endlessly.
But you knew you were no hero. You were a
A hero was someone who went through pain
and still came out strong, not someone who is afraid of their own feelings. A hero
is someone who opposes evil, who resists darkness. A hero is someone like Bucky
You admired him not only because of his
impressive physical strength and his friendship with Captain America. You
admired him because he was broken, just like you. Yet, he still fought, trying to
get the world to see him for who he really was, not who he was forced to be for
God, you loved him, so damn much that it
hurt. It was hard not to, with his charming personality and stunning good
looks. He was always so sweet and kind, making your heart melt. He was one of
your closest friends, always there for you when you needed him. You were happy,
because Bucky was the light in your life, your safe haven.
It pained your heart to know he’d never be
You were nothing compared to Natalia
Romanova. Her fiery hair and sexy lips were enough to win any man over. Not to
mention her natural grace and sharp wit. Oh, and her large bosom.
You’ve seen the way they look at each
other. Longing, heated gazes thrown from opposite ends of the room, touches
that lasted a second too long, secretive smirks half hidden behind smouldering
eyes. It was obvious to anyone that they wanted each other, the not-so-subtle
signs were clear as day. Your co-workers only encouraged them, telling them to ‘stop
playing’ and ‘finally get together, dammit’.
How could you ever compete with the Black
These thoughts nagged at you as you
performed your daily activities. You tried your damn best at everything, you
really did. But she always seemed to be better than you in everything. Hit a
bullseye at the shooting range? She hits five. Lift a thirty-pound weight? She lifts
fifty. Gather required intel in one day? She does it in an hour.
You didn’t mean to envy her, but you really
couldn’t help it. Everyone you ever gave a damn about chose her, not you. It really got on your
nerves after a while.
Hence why you were currently swigging
straight from a bottle of Smirnoff at 1 am on the roof of the Avengers tower. A
mission was underway, once again finding information about a presumed HYDRA
base. The mission was delicate, requiring the agents to dress up ‘fancy’ and
attend an elaborate party hosted by a suspected HYDRA leader. You had eagerly
volunteered, hoping that this could be your chance to show that you were, in
fact, capable of acting like a dame. You were desperate to prove that you, too,
could be seductive. You were even more excited when you found that two avengers
would act as a ‘couple’ and attend the party. Your heart stuttered with joy
when you discovered that the designated male agent chosen was Bucky Barnes.
Your heart dropped to the floor and
shattered once again when you were told that the designated female agent would
Once again, that gaze was thrown across the
room, making a lump form in your throat. Of course. You should’ve known.
You would never be chosen for a mission
Pretending everything was alright was
harder than ever tonight. Pretending you didn’t care about them was even
The liquid in the half empty bottle sloshed
around as you took yet another long slurp, some alcohol escaping down your
chin, not that you cared. You didn’t care about anything anymore. You didn’t care
The sky was clear tonight, constellations
of stars twinkling at you happily, mocking you. Gazing up into the endless dark
blue void, you wondered if a world existed, just one world, in which you could
be truly happy…
Quiet footsteps interrupted your pathetic
daydream. Looking around, your insides plummeted with dread when you locked
gazes with the handsome supersoldier, who was still dressed in his smart,
this-outfit-kills-and-I-know-it clothes. Quickly grabbing the vodka and hiding
it beside you, you tore your gaze away from James’s caring eyes.
“Are you alright, (Y/n)?” He questioned,
slowly sitting down beside you. You shrugged nonchalantly in response.
“O’ course. Why wouldn’t I be?” You
replied, trying to appear casual.
Bucky sighed. “That”, he motioned to the
alcohol hidden beside you, “tells me otherwise. Now, what’s going on?”
You scoffed, your liquid friend making you
much bolder than you actually were.
”Nothing’s going on. And why do you even
Bucky frowned deeply at this, looking
straight into your eyes. “I care about you because you’re my friend, (Y/n).”
Ah, there it goes. That disgusting
“Yeah”, you answered, rolling your eyes. “That’s
all I am. Anyway, how’s Natasha doing? Is she just a friend as well?”
Bucky looked stunned. “What on earth are
you talking about, (Y/n)?! Of course she’s just a friend. Why would you think
You grabbed your bottle and took another
swig, eyes filling with hurt and longing.
“I’ve seen the way you look at each other. Why
don’t you stop playing around and just fuck already?”
The brunet gasped, looking at you with a
mixture of shock and anger. “Do you really think I’m that type of person?
Nothing romantic, just purely sexual?”
You shrugged once again. “Well, the way you
shamelessly stare at her breasts brings that to mind, yes.”
Bucky ran his prosthetic hand through his
long hair. “That’s very offensive, (Y/n). Both to me and to Natasha. First of
all, I do not stare or want to fuck her, as you so nicely put it. And second,
Natasha is not the girl I want.”
Hearing this, your heart seemed to crush.
“Oh yeah?” You practically spat. “Then who
is? Wanda? Sharon? Or just a random whore?”
Bucky growled at this, getting up abruptly.
“You’re wasted, (Y/n). I’m not having this conversation with you when you’re
You got up as well, your legs slightly
shaky, a fact you chose to ignore. “Is that so, Barnes? Scared to admit who you
have the hots for?”
“Oh, for the love of…” Bucky spun you
around to face him, his piercing blue eyes blazing. “It’s you, alright, (Y/n)?!
It’s you! From the very start, it has always been you. You were always there
for me, you always made me feel human again.
I love you!”
You stood there, frozen, not daring to move
a muscle. You had sobered up quite fast at the yelling, and you couldn’t believe
what you were hearing. Bucky loved…you?
“Me?” You whispered, a single tear
trickling down your cheek. Bucky’s expression softened immediately, his arms
pulling you close to him.
“Yes, you”, he murmured. “No one makes me
feel like you do. You make me feel like life is worth it. You make me feel like
someone finally gives a shit. You may not believe this, but I love you.”
A choked sob left your throat. “I love you,
too.” You hoped to whatever God was out there that you weren’t dreaming, that
this wasn’t just some cruel figment of your own imagination.
Bucky smiled, gently brushing his large
hand over your cheek. Your breath got caught in your throat as he moved closer
to you, eyes moving down to glance at your lips. You froze, feeling his breaths
fan over your face and watching as brunet shut his eyes slowly and brushed his
lips over yours softly.
Getting over your shock quickly, you
gripped his neck and crashed his lips onto yours, shutting your eyes tightly as
stray tears fell down your lashes. You felt like you were finally able to breathe; as Bucky’s kisses were all you
needed to stay alive.
He loved you. James Buchanan Barnes loved
After all, there was a world in which you
could be happy. It seems that your spirit can be free at last.
Please leave feedback! As a writer, I am able to improve my works by knowing what people think. So please, feedback is appreciated :)
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soundtrack - kid bloom: i kissed a girl and she kissed me (x)
As you passed your fingertips idly across the crystal counter,
you raised the shot glass to your crimson stained lips, sinking the pellucid
liquid down in one gulp. You hoped the burn would somehow erase the ache that
had swelled up within you. Or at least helped you to forget its existence. Groaning,
you swiveled around in the high chair you’d perched yourself on the second you’d
entered the club. Leaning your back on the bar behind you, you casted eyes to
the pulsating waves that made up the crowd. Although you couldn’t even see them
as your vision was a spinning kaleidoscope of fuchsia and lavender lights.
Perhaps you’d taken one too many shots. But who fucking cares anyway. It’s not
like he did. If he did care, you
wouldn’t have found him fucking a complete stranger in your bed. On the night
of your anniversary.
You burst out in laughter at the sardonicism that
made up your life, tossing your head back and beaming at the white ceiling. The
couple seated a distance away from you throw you a speechless stare and after a
hushed hurried discussion between them, they collected their stuff to flee,
leaving empty glasses in their wake. You watched them go not bothered by their
reactions towards you at all.
“You know, if you’re gonna scare my customers away, I
think you should leave.”
The voice came from behind you. It’s low, deep even and
the speaker talks loud enough so that he can be heard over the earsplitting
music. You don’t bother to turn around. Keeping your eyes on the sea of people,
you simply replied, “I’m your customer too. It may be my fault that they left
or perhaps it was your shit service.”
“I make great drinks, thank you very fucking much and
I must have great service if I’m tolerating your ass here.”
You whirled around at this, slamming your glass on the
counter and gripping a tight hold on the marble to stop yourself from puking
all over the place. The bartender, and your current offender, raised one very
fine dark eyebrow at your antics, shaking his head slightly in disapproval.
“Shut up and get me another shot.”
“Can’t,” He shoot you a rueful smile, white teeth
glowing, and shrugs his slim shoulders in indifference. “You’ve had over
twelve. If I give you more, you might die from alcohol poisoning.”
“Who cares, maybe I want to die,” I remarked, staring openly
into his brown eyes. They widend in disbelief at your words, and concern pours
into them like a stormy sky setting lose a vicious downpour of rain.
“May I ask what exactly happened to you?”
Your gaze flickered to his white platinum hair, which
shimmers like violet under the florescent lights. For a moment you’re
mesmerized by it, then you look back at his face and wonder why he even cared
“Why?” You questioned back.
“Well, you’re drinking your liver to death, you look
extremely miserable and your eye makeup has wreaked havoc on your face. Plus
the dress you’re wearing looks way too elegant for this club.”
You snorted at his words, glancing down at the silver
dress you’d purchased for the anniversary dinner you thought you were going to
have. “Should I change my outfit then?”
“You could explain the story,” He retorted, resting
both hands onto the counter with an expectant look gracing his handsome face.
“Okay. I found my boyfriend of three years fucking his
co-worker in our bed. On our anniversary.”
The bartender takes a visible intake of air, eyebrows
hitting his hairline in astonishment. “Fuck man. That’s low.”
You rolled your eyes at his statement and turned your
gaze to the frosted bottle of Smirnoff behind him. “I know. Can I have another
“Absolutely not. Also, why the hell are you here and
not ripping his balls off?”
You look back him, startled at his blatant remark.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, any decent person who had just been cheated
on should be destroying their ex-partners lives – not drowning themselves in Smirnoff, which is shit vodka by the
You narrow your eyes at him, questioning how his brain
cells functioned. “How would you know that? Did somebody cheat on you?”
“Well,” He pauses, crooking his head to the side as a sly
smirk tugs at his lips. His platinum locks loosely fall onto his face. “I
wouldn’t say I’ve been cheated on. More like, I’m the cheater.”
You slapped him.
The sound echoed throughout the club and a few heads
turn in your direction but you didn’t care at all.
“Pigs,” You hissed at him, “You’re all pigs. How the
fuck do you think it feels when someone you love treats you like shit!” You hoisted
yourself up on trembling legs, blatantly ignoring the fact that they felt like
jello and you were horribly unstable in the high heels covering your feet.
“Hey! Hey! Calm down okay; it’s not that deep.” He exclaimed,
stretching his arms out to grab yours and keep you from toppling over. Large
hands enclosed themselves around your upper arms, warm and firm, not allowing
you to go.
“Don’t fucking touch-”
“Don’t hate the player, sweetheart, hate the game.”
You froze, turning into a solid block of ice at the
words that easily flow out of his mouth. Your own mouth dropped to the floor in
astonishment at his audacity. “How can you say that?” You demanded, looking
into his eyes, searching for some form of an answer within those deep waves of
All he does is shrug nonchalantly, not effected by
your reaction. “I’ve said that too many times now to feel anything.”
It takes you a moment to process what he’d just said,
your mind slowed down by the large amounts alcohol you’d taken. And then
everything sort of snaps into place.
“Get your fucking hands-”
“You know, instead of hating him, or the game, you
could learn how to play it.”
The bastard keeps on shocking you with everything he
“And who exactly is going to teach me how to break
hearts like glass?”
He shoots you a grin and his eyes obtain a sparkle
from seemly out of nowhere. “I could.”
But as he spoke, a surge of blackness blankets your
vision, leaving you stranded in a deep abyss and falling. Right into the arms
of a complete stranger.
a/n: hello! thank you for reading:) I will be posting the remaining parts of I could teach you soon (since two and three are already done). the soundtrack is currently my favorite song right now! tell me what you think about it :)) - fyra
Summary: Vilde and Eva fall in love (with a little help from Isak Valtersen) and it’s all set the the fresh tunes of female Australian musicians!
aka Vilde thinks she has an unrequited crush and and accidentally befriends Isak in the process
Notes: This is my first attempt at writing actual fanfic but it went well I think!! I love these two with all my heart and we always need more evilde content in the fandom (chapter 2 is already on the way). Massive thanks to @peggimartinelli and @icky-trump for being my betas you are angels <33
“I think that people are just confused because kosegruppa hasn’t been in the revue before, so they don’t really know what to expect, you see.” Vilde’s face glowed as she animatedly explained her newest plan to gain popularity for kosegruppa. She was sitting up at the head of her bed, a notebook full of neat sketches and carefully detailed notes laying in her lap. Eva lay beside her sprawled across the bed on her stomach, engrossed in her phone.
“That’s why we need to spread more information about the group, I think,” Vilde rambled, her voice climbing up in pitch ever so slightly as Eva remained focused on her phone, “Our goal is to spread love and kos to the other revue groups, and they need to know what that looks like so they don’t feel uncomfortable. I was thinking maybe some kosegruppa posters, or we could do an announcement at school. What do you think about that, Eva?”
Poe insisted you come with him to the party. He claimed that you “hide in your dark depressing dorm room for too long” and needed some “good ol’ college partying”. You refused, but he kept bothering you about it. You knew that he’d continue to annoy you if you continued to say no. So you agreed. So here you were nursing a bottle of Smirnoff ice being a complete wallflower. The house was starting to get really hot and the music was making your head pound. You wanted to get out of here.
“Y/N! There you are! My besterestest friend!” Poe slurred.
You held your hands out to balance him, “Are you drunk?”
Poe hiccuped, “Whaaat? Noooo. I’ve only had, uh, this many drinks!” He held up both hands showing ten fingers.
You sighed, “You’re drunk, Poe.”
He waved your comment off, “Nah!” He grabbed your hand and started pulling you towards the crowd of sweaty, dancing people, “Dance with me!”
“Poe, I really don’t-”
“One dance. That’s all. Pleeeaaaase?” Poe held his hands together and gave you his best puppy eyed expression.
You sighed, “Fine.”
The fast upbeat music faded and turned into a slow love jam. Poe pulled you close and held you by the hips. Your own hands rested on his shoulders. Poe was just staring at you. You looked at him curiously, “What?”
“Will you marry me?”
You chuckled, “Are you high?”
Poe shrugged, “High on love, maybe.”
“Sure you are, buddy.”
“No, it’s true, Y/N. I love you.”
You said nothing back to him and sighed. You hoped that his feelings were true. You just wished it hadn’t come out when Poe was drunk.
I deleted this before cuz I was a pusseh, but now I decided to do it again. Because I just had 4 shots of vodka, 2 8oz bottles of Smirnoff and horchata rum. I’m scared of standing up. ANYWAYS!
What is your (nick)name and your URL Where are you from? What Nationality are you? PRONOUNCE THE FOLLOWING WORDS:Noctis
Lucis Caelum, Gladiolus Amicitia, Ignis Stupeo Scientia, Prompto
Argentum, The Regalia, Eos, Chocobos, Daemons, and Ardyn Izunia Who are your favorite characters: Who are your least favorite characters: What was your favorite dish: CHOOSE A CHARACTER AND ANSWER: What would they do if they found a lost child? END AUDIO POST WITH A SIMPLE MESSAGE!
This is my first Eddsworld fanfic, so I allow me to apologize in advance if I the characters come out as OOC. Because i got so many positive reviews on fanfic.net i decided to put it here as well. Anyway, enjoy!
Tom x Tord fic
swayed clumsily from side to side, his non-existent eyes blinking to
try and fade away his blurry vision. Using his hand, he felt around his
desk, as if searching for something. He mumbled incoherent curses under
his breath after a while of fumbling around in the dark and failing at
finding the object he is looking for.
Eventually his hand manages
to wrap around the glass cylinder of a Smirnoff bottle. Lifting up to
his mouth he chugged it, nearly downing the entire bottle in one swing.
He brought the bottle back down, using his sleeve to wipe the remains
left around his lips. He burped and groaned, feeling stuffed with the
It’s been three months since him, Matt and Edd moved
to their new apartment, and things have been going on as usual. Most of
the time anyway. Ever since Tord’s betrayal, with the giant robot and
all, Tom has been getting a little restless. And it annoyed him beyond
belief because he couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out why.
he had to guess is because of the fair chance that Tord could come
back. Matt and Edd are worried about this chance being genuine, but Tom
knew better. And if the red commie actually dared to show his ugly face
near them again, he’ll handle it. Just like last time; Tom thought to
himself, feeling smug.
Tom was interrupted from his thoughts when
he hears the doorbell ring. He groans in annoyance. He really doesn’t
want to leave the comfort of his armchair, but he sighs and gets up
anyways. He clumsily makes his way over to the front door, drunk out of
his mind, and barely comprehendible. He leans against one of the walls
for support, belching, and shakes the doorknob, trying to open it.
several, drunkenly attempts, he opens the door. In front of him stands a
man, he can’t see him very well with his blurry vision. He only makes
out a blue outfit, messy brown hair and a cigar poking out of his mouth.
Tom is not sure if it’s his drunk mind playing tricks on him, but is
the guy wearing an eyepatch?
“Letter for you, sir!” The man announced. He reached out, presenting a letter towards Tom.
slowly blinked, not comprehending what was currently going on at first.
He simply glanced down at the letter and back up at the man’s face. His
brain eventually processed the information, and Tom sluggish stretched
his arm forward to take the letter from him. Without further word, just a
few gibberish grumbles under Tom’s breath, he turned around and slammed
Tom made his way back to his cherished armchair and
fell back in his seat with a sigh of content. He looked over the letter
more closely, his vision smudging the tiny letters containing the
address on it. His eyes finally focused, and he could make out a red wax
stamp with a strange symbol on it. He couldn’t exactly make it out, but
it looked strangely familiar.
He rips the letter open and takes
out the content inside. A dumb piece of paper. Tom groaned in
disappointment. He was hoping it was candy. Tom was almost inclined to
crumple up the paper in a ball and toss it in the trash, and he was
about to do so when his curiosity peaked. Who would send him a letter?
In 2016? He didn’t even know letters still existed! Who uses mail in
His curiosity got the best of him and he turned over the
letter and read the contents inside. Although, it was major struggle for
him and his drunk state. He could barely make out the tiny letters.
were probably not expecting it, especially considering our rivalry, but
I thought you should know; after all, I don’t even know myself if we’ll
ever see each other again, although I sincerely hope so.
the good old days? Where we would simply hate each other? Bickering and
name calling like a couple of little kids? I guess over time our hatred
for each other evolved into something more than intended to.
how you doing? Not that I care. What about Matt and Edd? How are they
handling my inevitable betrayal? You and I both knew all along it was
going to happen. That’s what intrigued me most about you Tom. You could
read me. You always suspected me of something, thought you weren’t
exactly sure what, I guess you finally got your answer in the end. But I
was always curious as to why you never mentioned your doubts about me
to the others. Any particular reason?
As of me, things
have been going… I would say fine just to shove it in your face and fell
smug about it, but that would be a complete lie. Thanks to our… little
rivalry; I had a complete make-over. So I suppose my left side is my
better side from now on. Quite a shame really, I liked my right side the
best. And normally it would be so easy to just dump all the blame on
you for what happened to me, but I am very well aware of my own actions
and it was my carelessness that led you to pierce a harpoon through my
robot. That doesn’t mean I forgive you, if anything that gives me more
reason to go after you for revenge, but I know it’s not “entirely” your
You think you’re so clever, don’t you Tom? You
probably brag about your “victory” against me so openly to the others.
Well, I sort of admire that about you. You are the perfect nemesis, and I
couldn’t ask for a better one indeed. But I guarantee you that the next
time we meet, and there WILL be a next time, you may not be as
Enjoy the calm before the storm while it
lasts, Tom. I need some time to recover handle some things and then I’ll
extract my revenge upon you. Jeg elsker deg, Tom. Until we meet again,
old friend. Ha det!
the letter multiple times, trying to process the information contained.
Suddenly, in a fraction of a moment of clarity his mind cleared up just
enough for him to finally understand. Tom narrowed his eyes down at the
letter in pure hatred. Tord’s betrayal shook Edd and Matt hard, but Tom
knew from the start he was bad news. The two of them never seen each
other eye to eye. Probably because Tom doesn’t actually have any eyes,
but that’s beside the point.
So, the commie bastard finally
decided to come into contact with them; correction, him. Which is plenty
weird in of itself. Think he can boast and brag about taking him down.
Tom laughed at the silliness of it all. Well, if Tord thinks he can
intimidate him with this petty attempt of a threat, he had another thing
coming for him.
Tom fumbled around his desk using his hands. He
grabbed a clean sheet of paper and a pen. He giggled, as if in insane
delight. He looked down at the paper and began to write down furiously.
He stopped for a moment in mid-writing to take another swig of his
Smirnoff, accidentally spilling over the paper and smudging some of the
words. Tom groaned in annoyance but shrugged the incident off,
continuing to write down in the now wet piece of paper.
again, contemplating what else to write. He bit down the end of the pen
deep in thought. After a little while of thinking Tom went back on
writing. As he was doing so, Tom would occasionally glance back at
Tord’s letter. Upon closer inspection he noticed the foreign sentence
neatly written near the end. Jeg elsker deg. What does it even mean? His
drunken mind thought.
Obviously it was something in the commie’s
native language, Norwegian, but despite knowing Tord for years Tom knows
not a single thing of Norwegian. Tom knew he could easily just google
it and find out the meaning of the sentence, but his drunk state of mind
doesn’t allow him to think clearly. Instead, Tom deduced the meaning
behind it by analyzing the letter once again. Knowing Tord himself it probably means screw you, or something along these lines. Tom thought. Well, right back at yah buddy.
laughed as he finished writing the letter down. He sealed it shut
inside the envelope and went off to post and mail back. He slipped the envelope inside his mail box with a wide sloppy grin. Tom takes another
swig of Smirnoff, emptying the bottle. As he headed back home he laughed
out loud. If only he could film the bastard’s reaction once he read his
letter. Tom felt proud of himself at that moment. That will show him!
is sitting back behind his desk, lounging in his big comfortable chair.
He was managing some paper work involving his scientific research, the
giant robot, his soldier’s files amongst other boring stuff. He sighed
in boredom. If there is one thing he had to complain about being the
leader of an evil organization is all of the paper work he had to do. On
the bright side, at least his arm doesn’t hurt as much from writing all
the time. Tord chuckled with dry humor, glancing at his new, robotic
arm. Regards from his last encounter with Tom.
Speaking of the
eyeless jackass, Tord couldn’t help but wonder how he reacted to his
letter. He didn’t know the why, but in the morning he found himself
missing the presence of the rude, blue hoodie man. So to try and get rid
of that feeling he wrote him a letter and requested for Paul, one of
his soldiers, to deliver it for him. Now, instead of turning his
attention back to his work, like he should, Tord is feeling rather
antsy. He knows better than to get his hopes up. In fact, Tord wouldn’t
be surprised at all if Tom immediately tossed his letter into the
garbage after ripping it in tiny little pieces.
A knock on his
door interrupted his thoughts. “Come in.” Tord commanded, looking up
from his paper work to glance at the door expectantly.
entered the room at his leader’s permission. He saluted him and Tord
walked up to him. “At ease, soldier.” He said, allowing Paul to stop the
motion. “Mission report.” He ordered, wanting to get right down to
business, so that the anxious feeling in the pit of his stomach can
finally fade away.
“Sir, the mission went along exactly as
planned, sir!” Paul reported, not making direct eye contact with the
leader. After the incident with the giant robot, none of the soldiers
dare to look at their leader straight in his eyes. Or rather… eye.
“And?” Tord pressed forward after a moment’s of silence, yearning to know more details.
the letter was delivered to subject Tom as you have ordered, sir!” Paul
went on. “I waited to see his next course of action. It seems he wrote a
return letter addressed to you, sir!”
Tord barely caught what
Paul just said and was about to ask him to repeat himself when Paul
stretched his arms forward, displaying the letter. Almost hesitant, Tord
gulped and took the letter from him, glancing at it curiously. “Well
done, soldier.” He praised. “You’re dismissed.”
Paul nodded and
saluted once more before leaving the room. Tord turned around to sit
back behind his desk, his eye wide in surprise. Out of all the scenarios
he had imagined would happen, Tord thought a reply was the least
probable one. But, here it is.
Sitting back in his chair Tord
analyzed the envelope. It wasn’t properly sealed and it was rather
crunched up. Tord moved to open it and take out the letter from inside
but his hand stopped. He hesitated. Tord didn’t want to admit it, but he
was afraid at what might be written. Pathetic. Here he is, the
almighty red leader, commander of an entire organization, soon leader
of the whole world, and he is afraid of facing the reply letter from an
Tord mentally face palmed at the scenario and
sighed. He quickly decided to get it over and done with as soon as
possible and just ripped out the letter from inside. Bringing it to his
face so he may look at it closer, he immediately detected the stench of
alcohol in the letter, and a huge splash mark. The letters were all
smudged, messy and incoherent. Tord chuckled. Same old Thomas. No doubt
he was completely wasted while writing this.
The words are all
smudged and misspelled. Tord grit his teeth in frustration as he read
and re-read the letter over and over, trying to comprehend it.
Eventually he managed to make it out. Of course he had to correct the
various grammar errors, but he did it.
sure do have a lot of guts by writing to me with this pathetic threat
after I beat you and your stupid giant robot. You think you can scare us
with some petty threats? If that’s the case, I only have one thing to
say in return to you: JEG ELSKER DEG TORD!
you’re so cool with your smooth, fancy shiny hair of yours? You guessed
wrong! You’re not cool, you’re handsome! And those gray eyes of yours?
Well, they suck. I can’t stop looking at them and it makes me annoyed. I
always hated the color red, but for some reason I think it looks good
Whatever menacing plan you got in store for us,
BRING IT ON! I can’t wait to see you again so I can brag about how much
better we are off without you, despite the fact that I resorted to heavy
drinking again since you’ve been gone. Until next time, commie!
Signed: Your good old nemesis, Thomas!
PS: I’ll be waiting for you.
was left speechless, and he felt a light tinge of pink flourishing upon
his cheeks as he read and re-read the letter multiple times. But he was
not imagining it, or misunderstood it in anyway. This is all written
down by Tom’s own hand. Of course, Tord immediately concluded this is
all a result of Tom’s wasted mind. But he couldn’t help but secretly
wish that at least a small portion of these words could possibly be
What’s even more interesting is that Tom actually managed to
copy (albeit rather clumsily) one of the sentences he used in his own
letter. The Norwegian sentence he used: Jeg elsker deg. Tord couldn’t
help the smile that stretched across his face as he re-read that passage
in the letter. If he had to guess, Tom probably thought the phrase
meant something insulting. Tord chuckled. If only he had search on
google for the meaning behind it.
In actuality, the phrase in his
own letter was a dumb decision. Tord wasn’t even sure why he wrote it.
He wants to slap himself for his carelessness. He’s been feeling rather
strange since the incident with the robot. Tord would often find himself
thinking of Tom. At first, he thought it was out of pure hatred for the
Jehovah’s Witness; for standing on his way, foiling his plans,
destroying the robot and scarring half of his face permanently. But the
more he thought about Tom, the more the feeling inside his stomach grew.
He didn’t know for certain if it was indeed attraction he felt for Tom,
but Tord doesn’t know how else to put it. He still hates him after all;
a part of him does anyway. So he thought that perhaps to alleviate the
feeling he would admit it to Tom. Of course, he would write in his
native language so Tom wouldn’t know what it meant right away, but it
was still a big risk considering he could’ve just searched the meaning
on the internet. But thankfully, luck is on his side and Tom did not
suspect a thing.
Tord looked over the letter once more with a
small smile. He knows Tom was not in his right state of mind when
writing this, but Tord neatly folded the messy letter and tucked in the
chest pocket of his blue uniform regardless of that fact.
went back to his paper work, feeling much better now, he remembered a
program he saw a little while. A documentary about alcohol and its
effects. The drunken letter reminded Tord of the program, and he
suddenly remembered one of the lines said by the narrator: “A drunk
mind speaks a sober heart.” Tord paused in his work, contemplating the
phrase tossed in his sub-consciousness. He glanced down at the pocket
where the letter was stored with curiosity. Could it be…?
promised you a date night, he did not expect he would end up having to cancel
last minute. In his defense, he is the CEO of his company and that title comes
with so much responsibility, including picking up the paperwork of his co-CEO
due tomorrow because he was out sick.
sorry babe. I thought I would get all of this finished but it honestly,” Jay
paused, looking at the mountain of paper he still has to go over. “It looks
like I’m going to be here a bit longer.”
on the other end of the line, you were looking forward to date night. It’s been
a while since the two of you had time alone. For Jay it was the next artist,
next song, music video and promotions. You on the other hand was busy with
paperwork, ever since you moved to your own practice there were more paperwork
than patients and it did nothing to lessen the stress.
fine,” you say, trying to brush it off, putting on a tone that you hoped would
instill assurance knowing Jay would feel so guilty about this. “Rain check?”
okay but listen davekat humanstuck popstar AU. Dave is like a kesha-level troll in that a lot of his music is glitzy and ironic but he’s actually super talented, cares a lot about his fans, and dresses with like g-dragon level absurdity, with a lot of gender-fuckery and biting social commentary if you’re listening close enough. kanaya is one of his designers, and she hits up karkat to be her date to a red carpet event because rose is busy, and karkat is some little hipster nerd who only listens to like the national and bon iver, so he has never heard any of dave’s music or seen his videos.
there’s an afterparty in some penthouse, and karkat hates everybody there and hates the fancy liquor, so he just goes out onto balcony to get some air, and finds this blond dude with smudged eyeliner fucking around on his phone and drinking Smirnoff out of the bottle all by himself all “its a clusterfuck in there shit gives me anxiety” and karkat just chills with this deadpan weirdo for hours not knowing he’s the dude the party is for
Tom trudges back into his and Thompson’s home and makes a beeline for the liquor cabinet. He doesn’t get it, what was he supposed to say to Drinks? He doesn’t understand how people work! He didn’t mean to hurt him! He growls in frustration, punching the wall next to the cabinet.
He reaches for smirnoff and changes his mind last second, grabbing a bottle of moonshine instead. He might not understand but the booze does.
He walks to his bedroom with the moonshine and a bottle of smirnoff. Maybe he should take a page out of Drinks’ book for a bit and just…
Summary: In which Tom walks in on Tord in the shower and he’s completely unfazed.
Notes: just one of those “one of them walks in on the other in the shower AU.”
Tom knew he wasn’t that good of a person. He doesn’t go to church on Sundays, sniff flowers, pet kittens, or kiss babies. Yup, he wasn’t good, but he sure as hell wasn’t bad either. And as far he knows, only bad people get bad karma. So why, why, he asked himself for the hundredth time, on earth was he doing in Matt’s dorm looking for a goddamn bracelet.
“Oh please Tom?” He said in a mocking tone. “It was a special bracelet that Matt made for me!” He imitated Edd’s voice while rolling his eyes and making faces. He slammed another desk drawer shut, seeing that it’s filled with nothing but condoms. “Honestly-”
He knew he brought this upon himself, and that he only had himself to blame, but god, he can’t help but feel a little annoyed at Edd and Matt for making him do this.
Like it wasn’t enough he had to deal with the PDA those two keep showing. Like it wasn’t enough they kept him wide awake at three in the morning because of the sounds they were both making that he never ever wants to hear again. Like it wasn’t enough he was dragged to every single one of their dates, even though he said no like a million times. No, apparently it’s not, because the two of them have mastered the art of pouting, puppy dog eyes, and bribery. How could he say no to a bottle of Smirnoff and a box of pizza all to himself, right?
“I swear to God, if they make me do shit like this again, I am definitely switching dorms with that Mark guy.” He scowls at an ashtray on a desk at the far end. He was just about to rummage through the dirty hamper in the corner when he suddenly heard the unmistakable sound of running water hitting ceramic tiles.
He froze on the spot, and swore that he felt his heart stop. He turned to the bathroom door, and stared for five, still seconds, before his train of thought went working again.
Nobody could be here, he thought with a smug grin. Matt said so himself. His roommates were out. Paul was out with Patryk, Jon was visiting his parents, and that devil in a red hoodie- what was his name? Turd? No, it was Tord -always went for a nightly jog at around eight p.m. and it was now eight o’ ten.
The only way he knows this is because he passes by Tom whenever he walked home sloppy drunk from the bar down town and offer him a smirk and a snarky remark. And on special days, like when he would be in a good mood, he would even pester Tom about how he should join him in his night jog instead of drowning in alcohol, and which Tom would always respond with: “Fuck off.” earning a low laugh from Tord every single time.
So nobody could be in the shower, right? It just means that Matt left it running, and by extension, that means he has to turn it off. It’s the least he could do for the guy who put him in this situation.
He straightens himself, head high and shoulders back, and stomps right over to the bathroom door and swings it wide open. “Seriously, how careless can you ge-”
“hva i helvete?!”
Oh, butter biscuits.
He blinks three times and lets his jaw hang low before his brain registers what happened and who he just walked in on taking a shower and ends up stuttering. “I- what’re you- why were you- I- you!”
When Tom had swung the door open, Tord jumped- like actually jumped- in shock and ended up slipping on the wet bathroom floor on his, mind you, very naked ass.
And while a part of Tom was nagging him about how he shouldn’t stare, a part of him was busy doing exactly just that. From the beads of water slowly making their way down his toned abs, down to the light trail of hair, to very pronounced ‘v’ of his hipbones, up to his toned chest and prominent collar bones-which, a part of Tom thinks he can practically live in because wow -and broad shoulders. Light brown hair that was normally styled up, droops down to the back of his ears and just a little above his sharp jawline and-
Not now, gay thoughts.
Tord’s intense gaze was enough to snap Tom back to his senses, making him stumble back and grab the towel hanging on the railing to his left. He tosses to it Tord, shielding his eyes right after.
“I’m so sorry I- I didn’t- I thought- oh God-” Tom continues to stutter as Tord got back up on his feet, not taking his eyes off the smaller man, and he doesn’t even wrap the towel around his waist. He just just holds it in front of himself, barely covering his body parts from the waist down.
“Don’t you know it’s rude to stare?” Tord says all too cockily. “I always knew were in to me.”
“I wasn’t staring,” Tom states, meeting Tord’s eyes meekly, making the blush in his cheeks grow redder. The taller man smirks, and at that point Tom was just praying for the ground to swallow him whole. He did have to admit, the temptation to look down there, and the rest of his body, was so damn hard to resist.
“Okay then,” Tord smirks, making Tom raise an eyebrow. “if you weren’t staring before, how about now?” He winks, waits a few seconds until Tom had that confused look on his face, and then drops the towel. It was enough to send Tom running off with his face flushed red and his heart pounding in his ears. “I’m buying you a drink tomorrow, Tom!” Tord laughs as Tom stumbles out of their dorm.
He couldn’t help but smile at the fact that Tord knew his name despite the fact that he hasn’t properly introduced himself yet, which means that maybe- just maybe -he was into him too, even just a little. He walks back to his room with a smile on his face as he was greeted by Edd.