We made these memories for ourselves фанфик
We made these memories for ourselves фанфик
We made these memories for ourselves фанфик
For the Marathon Competition (Second Mile: FrankAlice) and the Chutes and Ladders Challenge (tradtion)
She’s eleven, and she can’t help but feel nervous as she marches forward with the other first years. A name is called, then another, and another.
Alice takes a deep breath. Frank nudges her. «Hey, lighten up,» he says gently. «It’s no big deal.»
«Right. Just the Sorting ceremony. The biggest moment in a first year’s life,» she says dryly.
Frank gives her hand a gentle squeeze, and somehow Alice finds the strength to move forward. The Sorting Hat falls over her head, and it takes only a few seconds before it yells «Gryffindor!»
Giddy and dizzy, Alice removes the hat and hurries to her new House table, watching as the ceremony continues.
She holds her breath. They’ve only known each over for a few hours, but she’s already grown quite fond of him. She can’t imagine him going anywhere else.
And it’s only when he sits beside her that she remembers to breathe again.
She’s thirteen, and she stretches out in the chair in front of the fireplace, watching the flames dance. It’s her favorite place, and even James and his little gang don’t try to take it from her.
«Thought I’d find you here,» Frank says, taking the chair next to her. «Get your permission slip signed?»
She looks over at him, brows raised. A smile plays at her lips. «What’s so perfect? Everyone has theirs,» she laughs.
«Because I was wondering if you’d like to go with me. On a date.»
Her heart flutters, and she feels silly. No one should have such an effect on her like that. And yet, she realizes that she doesn’t mind. «I’d like that,» she says, blushing.
She’s fifteen, and she can’t remember what her life was like before Frank. He’s become so much a part of her, like her lungs or her heart, that she can’t imagine being without him.
«Hey, don’t worry,» he says, kissing her nose. «She’s going to love you.»
Alice smiles, but it feels forced. She’s heard of his mother. Augusta Longbottom is supposed to be a difficult person to deal with.
«Ah, you must be Alice,» the older woman says as Frank guides Alice closer. «I’ve heard quite a lot about you.»
Alice gives a small bow of her head. «It’s nice to finally meet the woman who raised Frank to be such a wonderful man,» she says softly.
Augusta smiles warmly and pats Alice’s shoulder. «My dear, I did what I could. But I believe you’ve had a hand in his development, too.»
«He’s a good boy, Alice, but you make him better.»
She’s sixteen, and she doesn’t understand the ring in Frank’s hand. «What are you doing?»
«It’s tradition that this ring is passed along. It was my mother’s, and before that, her mother’s, and on for about four generations after that,» Frank says.
«I know we’re young. But with the war growing closer… Alice, I don’t want to live my life without you by my side. You’re my best friend and the love of my life. You’re everything to me, and I want to build a life with you. Will you marry me?»
And she doesn’t have to think about it for even a moment. She throws her arms around him, kissing him fiercely. «Of course.»
She’s seventeen when a second ring is added to her finger.
«You may kiss the bride.»
Frank pulls her close, and she feels those butterflies in her stomach. Really, they haven’t gone away since the moment she met him.
«I love you,» she whispers before his lips find hers.
She’s nineteen, and she holds his hand tightly, a smile on her lips.
«I’m going to be a father,» he whispers, a laugh on his voice.
Alice nods, holding him close. «We’re going to have a baby,» she confirms, giggling like a little girl. «We’re going to have a baby.»
She’s twenty and tired of being on desk duty. But Moody insists that a pregnant Auror shouldn’t be out on the streets. And she knows he’s right, but she feels so restless here, stuck staring at paperwork all day and worrying about her husband.
«Oh. Oh!» Alice cries at the sudden sharp pain.
«Alice? What’s wrong?» James asks.
«Frank. I need Frank. The baby’s coming!»
James grows pale as a ghost. «Now? That’s- That’s- Kingsley? John? Someone! We need Frank! And a midwife!»
«Get me home! I am not delivering my child at the Ministry!» she shrieks.
She’s twenty-one, and still amazes her how perfect her little boy is. «Mummy loves you, Neville,» she whispers, tucking the baby in, mesmerized by his tiny hands and feet. «Mummy loves you so much, my sweet boy.»
Satisfied that he’s settled for the night, she returns to the living room where Frank has prepared a glass of wine for her. «You look exhausted,» he notes.
Alice laughs. «What was your first clue?» she teases.
She takes a sip before leaning her head against his shoulder. «It’s going to be a good night,» she sighs happily.
«Oh, dear,» a voice calls, and she turns, wand drawn.
«I really hate to bring the bad news,» Bellatrix says. «But you’re really not.»
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we made these memories for ourselves
xo_stardust720
Summary:
“Well,” he pauses. “I haven’t been kissed since before 1945, so really I think we’re in the same boat.”
Notes:
Written for Anna, who gave me this prompt: «Bucky’s first kiss since 1945 and Wanda’s first kiss ever.»
Had so much fun writing this one, darling. Hope it lives up to your expectations!
The first time he sees her, they’re in an underground parking lot, huddled in a corner and hidden from view of all the cameras. She steps out of the white van all clad in leather, her long hair flowing around her, and his breath hitches at the sight of her. Time stops, and sounds are muted. And all he could focus on, was her. He’s standing far off and away, rooted in his spot, their little tonka toy of a car in between him and everyone around him as if having something in the middle was a sign of protection.
He can’t stop staring at her.
His memories are hazy, and they’re coming back to him in bits and pieces like a jigsaw puzzle. It feels foreign, this sudden attraction to her… and it feels almost forbidden. He averts his gaze from her and tries to focus on what the game plan is. Now is not the time to be going around and checking out a woman that was at least ten years (or decades, depending on how you looked at it) younger than him, for god’s sake. As much as he tries to put it out of his mind though, his eyes keep moving back over to where she stands.
He can’t help it, he likes what he sees.
She saves him from being clawed out by Black Panther as he’s pinned to the wall, moments away from what looked to be certain death.
One second he’s trapped, and the next there’s a red glow surrounding the Prince of Wakanda, and then Bucky could only watch in disbelief as T’Challa is thrown backwards by an invisible force. He wishes he had time to thank her for saving him from being clawed out but things are hectic to say the least and debris is flying everywhere. This whole thing is a mess and it’s taking everything he has to survive.
Later, when he and Steve are escaping with the quinjet, he sees an opportunity to ask about the brunette girl. Steve was incredibly quiet as he flew them out of the airport and Bucky didn’t miss the distraught look on his friend’s face when they had their run-in with Romanoff only moments before as she let them escape. There’s something of a story there and it’s just another thing in a long list of things that has changed since 1945. The ladies in the 1940s had never paid much attention to Steve but waking up to this century had apparently changed all that.
“Are you sweet on her?”
He didn’t miss the way Steve straightened, his back was all rigid and his hands gripped the handles a tad tighter as he steered. “Sweet on who?”
“Agent Romanoff.” Bucky grinned as he watched the back of Steve’s neck flush red.
“There’s nothing between us, Buck. We’re teammates, comrades, friends.”
“Sure looked like something. There was more chemistry in one look between the two of you than the kiss you had with the blonde one.”
“Can we not talk about this right now?”
He chuckled. “Fine. Don’t think I won’t ask you about this later though.” Bucky fell silent for a moment, looking out the window as the clouds flew past them. “I don’t know if I’m worth all this Steve.”
And just like that, tension filled the air again.
“Do you think they’ll be alright?”
“I hope so,” Steve sighed. “They’re tough.”
“Some of them seem a little young to be fighting, don’t you think?” He asked casually.
“You mean Wanda?” Steve shook his head. “Yeah, she’s been through a lot. I don’t know where Stark found that spider-kid though.”
Bucky leaned back, smiling to himself having got what he wanted. His mind repeated her name, running it through his brain and memorizing it so that he wouldn’t forget it.
He thinks it’s the nicest name he’s heard in awhile.
They meet up with Natasha in Wakanda and they form a plan to break the others out of prison. Bucky can see the tension between Steve and Natasha… can see the stolen glances that the other misses when they think the other isn’t looking. It’s the kind of tension that oozes chemistry and only a good romp in between the sheets can cure it. There’s something between them that anyone with eyes can see as plain as day even if they won’t admit it. He wonders if either of them have admitted it to themselves yet. At any rate, it’s amusing to watch… seeing Stevie all flustered around a pretty dame. He’s come a long way since 1945 and he’s able to hide his emotions relatively well now but Bucky can still see how deeply Steve blushes whenever Romanoff smiles at him. One just has to look closely.
Breaking into the underwater prison took almost no effort at all for the three of them. Though his metal arm was gone, Bucky was still able to hold his own punching out guards left and right with relative ease. Years of fighting had been programmed into him and it felt almost automatic, the way he moved. He wasn’t sure if this was a good thing or not, but it was what it was. Evidently, fighting with one arm was no problem for the Winter Soldier.
Nothing could’ve prepared him for the rage he felt at the sight of Wanda sitting almost lifelessly against the wall, wrapped in her straight jacket. Her hair was hanging limply off her face and her skin looked dull, pale… and there was just no other word to describe her. She looked lifeless, like she had given up and had resigned herself to her fate. It was a far cry from the adamant and determined young woman fighting for her freedom only weeks before. Whatever they had subjected her to in this prison had damaged her.
He knows his place though, and stands back and watches as Steve races forward to free her from her cell. He’s off to the side, watching as the rest of the team comes forward towards them… but he can’t help but glance back every now and then to see if she’s alright. She’s limp as Steve tears off her straight jacket and picks her up.
Their eyes meet as Steve moves forward with her in his arms, and again, Bucky feels that foreign spark of attraction like he did when he first saw her at the airport.
For a split second, her eyes seemed to regain their sparkle as they connected with his and he smiles at her without realizing it. And then it’s chaos again as alarms are blaring and they focus on getting out without any casualties.
“Are you sure about this?”
He can tell Steve is upset by his decision, but Bucky can’t bring himself to change his mind for Steve’s sake. It’s the first choice he’s made for himself in seventy-five years and it feels like a good one. The right one. “I can’t trust my own mind.”
There was a moment of silence between the two of them and he averts his gaze to avoid looking at the disappointed look on Steve’s face. Once upon a time, it had been Bucky taking care of Steve (dumbass never knew when to run away from a fight…) and now, the role reversal was apparent. He’s not sure how he’ll ever be able to repay his friend for everything he’s done for him. What he went through. What he sacrificed.
“So until they can figure out how to get this stuff out of my head, I think going back under is the best thing. For everybody.”
Steve sighs and it makes Bucky smile because he knows that Steve understands where he’s coming from and no more words are needed. He makes himself comfy and as the glass lowers, he sees something out of the corner of his eye that catches his attention.
She’s peeking in from where she stands at the doorway, watching with a speculative look in her eyes. She looks beautiful, almost like an angel with the sunlight streaming in from the windows behind her encasing her in its glow, and Bucky’s smile widens as he closes his eyes. His last image of the world, is her coming to stand beside Steve, and what a wonderful sight it was.
He goes to sleep.
It feels as if he’s floating, weightless in a sea of darkness. It kind of feels like he’s dreaming except it’s pitch black everywhere he turns. Bucky isn’t sure where he is and it’s kind of hard to explain, but he feels relaxed and comforted. Safe.
The scene changes and suddenly he’s standing in what looks to be Central Park. It was his favorite place to be when he was a kid and if he looks carefully, he can almost visualize him and Steve as ten year olds running around the trees, playing tag. The gentle breeze on his skin feels like silk, and the smells of sizzling hot dogs in the air makes his stomach growl. The sun was shining so brightly down on him that he can’t help but tip his face up towards it to soak it all in, and he’s warm… so warm.
It’s the most amazing feeling.
He can’t remember the last time he felt like this.
His heart leaps because he recognizes her voice right away. They’ve barely talked, never really had a conversation (this is probably the first) but he would know her voice anywhere, he thinks. He turns and Wanda is standing there, smiling at him. His heart is still beating just as rapidly, but it’s for an entirely different reason now. She looks good; tanned, as if she’s spent time outdoors recently and she definitely looks a lot happier than the last time he’d seen her. He takes a step towards her and smiles back. “Hey,” he pauses. “Is this real?”
“Kind of.” Wanda raises her hands and sparks of red flows from her fingertips. The scenery changes again and now they’re standing on a beach in Mexico. He’s dressed in a t-shirt and swimming trunks and he’s never been so happy to have waves from the ocean lapping at his feet. “We’re inside your head.”
“So I’m still under?”
“How are you here?”
Wanda smiles. “I’m still learning the limits of my powers but I have now discovered how to communicate with people’s subconsciousness.” She waves her hand and a few beach towels appear on the sand for them to settle on. “Steve was worried.”
“He asked you to check up on me?”
“Yes… and well,” she hesitates before looking up at him shyly. “I wanted to see for myself if you were alright.”
Bucky grins. This is the best thing he’s heard in such a long time. He shrugs and lays back onto his towel. “Can’t hurt anyone while asleep.”
Wanda shifts closer and Bucky looks over at her. She’s biting her lip as if she’s almost afraid to ask him something but goes ahead with it anyway. Bucky appreciates her boldness. “Actually, I wanted to ask that if it’s alright with you, I think I can help remove the hold that Hydra has on your mind.”
He sits up so fast, that a wave of dizziness hits him and he has to take deep breaths to help it pass. He stares at Wanda. “Are you serious?”
She sucks in a breath, but nods. “Yes, I think so.”
She looks thoughtful and shakes her head slowly. “I believe I can help shield your mind so that you won’t feel any pain. I can create places for us to explore.”
He studies her, wondering if she can suddenly hear how fast his heart is beating at this very moment. What she’s offering to do for him seems almost like a dream come true. He can feel hope blooming within him at her very words. “Well… as long as you don’t overextend yourself too much, sure. Feel free to root around in my brain.”
She smiles and time stops. Her smile is so bright and wide, and her hands clasp together at her chest and it’s clear that she’s delighted with his response.
It makes him glad that he said yes.
True to her word, when Wanda said he wouldn’t feel any pain, she meant it.
Well, not really.
What Wanda actually meant was that he wouldn’t feel any actual physical pain. Emotional scars were another story altogether, but Bucky supposed that he would’ve had to deal with the emotional fallout of his past sooner or later. She suspected that the words to trigger the Winter Soldier were connected to certain memories and in order to free him, they would have to go through and unroot each one carefully. They started with the last of the trigger words… Wanda explained that perhaps working backwards would probably be easiest and he saw no reason to go against her. It was crazy how much he trusted her already, when he didn’t really know her. Though, if Steve vouched for someone, he would’ve accepted it without question too.
This trigger was fairly easy to suss out, he thought. The last moment of him being truly himself. The last moment before his old identity perished. The last moment before Bucky Barnes disappeared and the Winter Soldier emerged. It’s painful, the memories that are up rooted with every step they take to get rid of Hydra’s control… and yet, he begins to feel like himself again. He can never go back to the man he used to be, but he can make do with the best he has.
And it’s enough for him.
Wanda listens. And never once does he feel judgement coming from her. She listens with a sympathetic ear and here, he begins to learn more about her. He learns of the events of Ultron and her hand in helping out the enemy before switching sides. She gets it, and he’s grateful that he can confide in her. It’s different than confiding in Steve… Steve would take on the guilt when he shouldn’t and go out of his way to try and make things better, when sometimes it should be left well enough alone.
He likes this, spending time with Wanda.
He craves her company more and more.
Steve comes to visit.
“Heard you and Romanoff are dancing around your feelings for each other,” he teases.
Steve rolls his eyes. “Wanda is becoming too nosy for her own good,” he grumbles, goodnaturedly. “Always meddling and can’t leave well enough alone.”
“Hey, if I were awake, I’d be helping her,” Bucky laughs. “You were always hopeless around women.”
Steve shrugs. “Nat is so stubborn,” he mutters. “But I’ll win her over, I will.”
They’re sitting on the patio of some restaurant with a couple of beers on a table in front of them and a plate of steaming hot wings for them to munch on. Just two guys, sitting and contemplating life. He can’t help but wonder if this is what would’ve happened had their lives turned out differently. Bucky finds that he likes this new confident version of Steve. And he’s thankful that he has the chance to sit here with his oldest friend, his best friend.
“So, what’s going on with you and Wanda?”
Bucky grins just at the mention of Wanda and doesn’t bother to deny that he’s attracted to her. “Nothing yet, gotta fix my brain first.”
“You always did have a thing for brunettes.”
“Our lives are weird.”
Steve laughs as he sips his beer. “Ain’t that the truth.”
“If you could go back in time and stop this from ever happening to you, would you?”
Wanda’s question stumps him for a moment but it doesn’t take him long to figure out his answer. “Well, I wouldn’t wish this on anyone, but shit happens for a reason. So even if I could go back and change my past, I wouldn’t.”
She looks at him curiously. “Why not?”
Bucky feels his heart flipping over in his chest as he looks over at her. “Well, I wouldn’t be sitting here with you otherwise.”
He adores the way her face lights up at his words.
He loves her. And he can see that in her eyes, she feels the same.
“When I wake up, I’m going to take you out on a date,” he tells her confidently.
She raises an eyebrow. “Think you’re sure of yourself, do you?”
He doesn’t miss the way her eyes sparkle and he grins. He hasn’t felt this happy in such a long time. “Nah,” he shakes his head. “Just hoping I’m that lucky. And if it goes well, maybe you’ll let me kiss you at the end of it.”
Wanda tosses her hair over her shoulder and looks over at him with an unsure expression on her face. For a split second, he thinks that maybe he’s being too presumptuous and forward. And then-
“I’ve never been kissed before, you know.”
He stops and stares at her, because… really? How was that possible?
Wanda shrugs but doesn’t really elaborate. He likes that there are still so many things he has left to learn about her. He’s looking forward to discovering every single one. Can’t wait for it, actually.
“Well,” he pauses. “I haven’t been kissed since before 1945, so really I think we’re in the same boat.”
She laughs and then hums in agreement.
And as it turns out, Wanda is the one to kiss him first.
Bucky isn’t complaining.
As far as kisses go, this one is pretty spectacular.
Notes:
Comments and kudos are appreciated! 😀
We made these memories for ourselves фанфик
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How come falling in love with the person he hated most was so easy?
Who the hell did this guy think he was? How could he stand there on the pavement, gorgeous and beautiful, and make Harry fall back into a swirl of desire, when fifteen minutes ago he made his skin prickle with hurt? God, he hated him. He wanted to bash his face into bits. The problem was that more than that, he wanted to kiss him. Between the two options, he would instantaneously choose the second.
A mortal enemies with benefits story with a touch of football, lust, and family drama.
The Unbelievers Story from Harry’s point of view.
We Made These Memories for Ourselves →
Breath held, Harry squints his eyes open and focuses on the first stick. A blue line. Harry breathes out an unsteady breath. He’s pretty sure he read that one blue line is a negative, but he fishes the box from the bottom of the pile just to make sure.
“Negative,” he confirms, voice echoing around the small room. “Next.”
Now that he’s feeling a little less shaky, he scans the rest of the tests at once, is met with a headache-inducing mixture of pink plus signs and blue double lines. His heart rate picks up until it’s pounding triple-time in the base of his throat and the pit of his stomach, thundering in his ears and throbbing in his temples. He flips over the rest of the boxes slowly, but he knows what they’re going to say before he even looks.
[or, Louis is a footballer, Harry owns a bakery, and they’re having a baby.]
We made these memories for ourselves.
Всем знакомы строки песни «куда уходит детство, в какие города?» Проживая шестнадцатый февраль моей жизни, меня посетило необычное ощущение. Оно явилось ко мне довольно неожиданно, как тучи среди ясного неба – и сразу же исчезло; однако после него я поверглась в глубокие раздумья. Возможно, причиной моей внезапной эйфории были исключительно физиологические недомогания, связанные c недостатком сна и отдыха, что способствовало возникновению неких галлюцинаций. Или же вследствие этого, количество каких-либо химикатов в моём организме увеличилось, и я на время погрузилась в страну неистового счастья и спокойствия. Но погружение в мир, которого я давно не помнила, пробудило во мне радость и тихое умиление.
Это состояние бесконечной радости, тепла и спокойствия. Когда всё тебе в удовольствие, и ты просыпаешься утром с желанием жить и познавать всё вокруг, а не с мыслями о том, как бы поскорее заснуть, чтобы весь этот кошмар скорее закончился. С сумасшедшей волей к жизни – когда на повседневные поступки тебя толкает не железная необходимость или страх, а искреннее желание познавать всё вокруг. Когда тебе плевать, засыпаешь ли ты на холодной скамейке в парке или же после горячего душа в чистой и мягкой постели. Тут совершенно не важно, как у тебя обстоят дела, и в какой ситуации ты находишься – всё равно ты точно будешь уверен, что скоро все непременно наладится. Также детство это источник безграничной любви. Когда улыбка и крепкие объятья мамы лучшее лекарство от всех невзгод, а нежный поцелуй отца в макушку окружает тебя атмосферой защиты и уюта. Чаще всего такое состояние называют счастьем.
Поэтому у большинства людей подобные ощущения ассоциируются именно с детством – временем, когда никто ничего от тебя не ждал, а мир казался таким добрым и приветливым. Поэтому многие пытаются искать счастье там, где раньше им было хорошо – будь то старая школа, город, в котором были проведены лучшие годы или увлечения, без которых раньше не могли прожить и дня. Да я и сама часто ловлю себя на том, что иногда катаясь на качелях, я представляю, что мне снова 6 лет и я хочу вновь получить те же яркие эмоции, которые я когда-то испытывала, но вскоре осознаю, что дело-то вовсе не в качелях, а во мне.
Это мимолетное счастье мы сохраним в детских фотографиях, где оживают наши воспоминания, где наши глаза распахнуты, сердца открыты и невредимы, а время осталось замороженным.
Находясь, на пороге взрослой жизни, я могу видеть лишь медленно уходящий поезд моего детства, ярко раскрашенный во все цвета радуги. Рано или поздно, все вырастают, но самое главное, взрослея, не утратить те семена добра, которые вкладывали в нас родители, бабушки, дедушки, учителя, ведь детство это то, что мы со временем теряем, но навсегда сохраняем в себе.
Текст песни Ed Sheeran – Photograph
[Ed Sheeran]
Loving can hurt, loving can hurt sometimes
But it’s the only thing that I know
When it gets hard, you know it can get hard sometimes
It’s the only thing that makes us feel alive
[Ed Sheeran]
We keep this love in a photograph
We made these memories for ourselves
Where our eyes are never closing
Our hearts were never broken
And time’s forever frozen, still
[Ed Sheeran]
So you can keep me
Inside the pocket of your ripped jeans
Holding me close until our eyes meet
You won’t ever be alone, wait for me to come home
[Ed Sheeran]
Loving can heal, loving can mend your soul
And it’s the only thing that I know
I swear it will get easier, remember that with every piece of ya
And it’s the only thing to take with us when we die
[Ed Sheeran]
We keep this love in a photograph
We made these memories for ourselves
Where our eyes are never closing
Our hearts were never broken
And time’s forever frozen, still
[Ed Sheeran]
So you can keep me
Inside the pocket of your ripped jeans
Holding me close until our eyes meet
You won’t ever be alone
And if you hurt me, that’s okay baby
Only words bleed inside these pages
You just hold me
And I won’t ever let you go
Wait for me to come home
Wait for me to come home
Wait for me to come home
Wait for me to come home
[Ed Sheeran]
Oh you can fit me
Inside the necklace you got when you were sixteen
Next to your heartbeat where I should be
Keep it deep within your soul
And if you hurt me, that’s okay baby
Only words bleed inside these pages
You just hold me
And I won’t ever let you go
[Ed Sheeran]
When I’m away, I will remember how you kissed me
Under the lamppost back on Sixth street
Hearing you whisper through the phone
Wait for me to come home
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В песне рассказывается о попытке людей сохранить свою любовь на картинке, чтобы красота их романа оставалась с ними навсегда.
Эдвард Кристофер Ширан — британский поп-музыкант и актёр. Первый коммерческий успех пришёл к нему в июне 2011 года благодаря синглу «The A Team», занявшему третье место в британском чарте.