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#also jokes on you i hit my toe on furniture all the time it literally does not faze me
bearbearbon · 11 months
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I get hit by Truck-kun, Now I'm screwed!: I don't like it here. It's cold, and wet, and in Historical Europe, and there's Yanderes everywhere.
You are, well technically, were a typical 21st century girl that fell into the rabbit hole of otome isekai manhwa while bored on a rainy Sunday afternoon—And you got hooked. You have read through anything you could get your sleep-deprived hands on, yes even the downright illiterate incoherent translations on some website that shall not be named because you were desperate to see what happens next. You were walking down the street just reading the latest chapter of your latest interest, really, just walking down some normal sidewalk to your nearest grocery store for an errand for your mother.
Then you heard someone scream, you turned to see that a truck speeding down the highway out of control—And problem is, it was headed straight towards you.
You should’ve moved or something. But you just stood there like a deer in headlights.
“Hey kid, get out of the way—!” Then it went dark.
.. … ….
“!”
You woke up. With a splitting headache but woke up and alive regardless. “I did just get hit by a truck..” you murmured, looking around your surroundings. Well this is odd. you thought to yourself getting up. ‘The hospital room is looking raaaather grand today...’ you realized, looking at the room you found yourself in. The large ceiling tall windows let in the sunlight, with velvet curtains as the stray rays reflected off the intricate furniture. All of it was screaming luxury, and expensive and then you started to fear for you and your wallet.
“Dang, I suuure hope the hospital bill won’t cost me returning my arms and legs.” you joked, laughing to yourself. Like an insane person. “Yeah, maybe the truck did help let some screws loose.” you admit to no one in particular as you wiggle your fingers and toes. Yep, perfect condition. Maybe you were better off crippled or dead—
You look around the room to find a mirror to inspect yourself in—to check if you really had to work till old age to pay back your debt. Ignoring the fact your head felt like it was gonna explode, you force yourself out of the soft covers on the cold floor. Strange… you felt a lot shorter than you remember. “Maybe the doctors really had to work on me.” you rationalized, dreading how much that’d cost you.
You carefully walk around the extravagant room, tip toe-ing lest you break any of the expensive looking decor, which could send you literal years into debt…. You better watch out for that aquamarine vase then. “Oof..!” you made a head dive barely catching it before it could shatter to a million sad little pieces on the ground. Along with your life savings. “Whew…”
You carefully put it back, making sure it won’t tumble and fall before sighing in relief—That is until you saw a big mirror mounted on the wall, perfectly mounted to flatter the room and make it look more spacious than it already is. The frame was intricate, warm golden and had designs that reminded you of rococo when you went down a rabbit hole of historical desig—you’re getting off topic...!
That being said, The problem wasn’t the mirror itself, no! Course not. The problem is what you saw in the mirror… You. “Is.. that me..?” you mumbled to yourself, startled and absolutely shell-shocked, oh I mean shell-shocked! When the girl mimicked your movements.
Oh.
Oh no.
You immediately paced around the room, pinching yourself, slapping yourself, looking around the room to see if things would get distorted if you looked hard enough. “Oh, no, no,no,nonononono—”
You were screwed, doomed even. To damnation.
Now you’ve read your fair share of manhwa, you even consider yourself an expert in the field. But you see… That's also the reason for your demise. You’ve read so many so many of them all the plots started to fuse together into one big amalgamation that you still eat up every time. You forget plot points, male love interests, you even forget the main characters’ own names! Defaulting to nicknames like ,the mc, black haired one, the prince etc. Ah.. to reap the consequences of your own hubris—You slap yourself back into focus mode.
So you currently have two cards against you:
A ) You were chucked into this world with no warning whatsoever at the hands of truck-kun B ) You don’t even know which story you are in, which plot, and what even happens to you because your brain cells just ate everything they could find their hands on.
“Well, technically I have another weakness… since I barely have ¼ of the average isekai mc’s IQ” Wow. way to go you are such an optimist.
Unfortunately for you, your little existential crisis was interrupted by a loud knock on the door. “My lady?” a voice calls out, noticeably female. And old. Probably a maid.
Shoot.
Masterlist
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miette-the-football · 3 years
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I want you to know that I hate you for ruining the chamber of secrets iconic post with your annoying comment. You should have preserved exactly as you found it. You suck and I really hope you lose your car keys or hit your smallest toe with the corner or a table.
You do know that you can remove reblogs from posts right? If you didn't want that comment you should have just reblogged it from someone who hadn't added anything to it. I add stuff like "omg I've only seen this in screenshots" to iconic posts all the time and if you don't like it get the fuck away from my blog.
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lotusss-flowerbomb · 4 years
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Liberator
Bucky x reader
Warnings: Smut, cream pie eating, cum swapping
A/N: My sis @bluestarego​ randomly came up with an idea for this chaise and her ideas are literally the bomb, so of course I had to write it. There is unprotected sex in this story. Remember, this is fiction, so in real life package the meat before a beat. Hope y’all enjoy!
Word Count: 4.7k [My baaaddd]
********
"Ayo, tin man, where you going?" Sam asked Bucky when he saw him grabbing his jacket.
"To the bookstore. I'm tired of sitting here." He hurried to the door.
"Hold on, I'll tag along this time. Maybe we can finally look at some furniture for this place. We'll be here for at least another four months." Sam laced his shoes and followed him out.
Bucky and Sam had been undercover on this mission 3 months and counting. Nobody seemed to notice them in the small southern town. Either that or no one really cared.
Sam had been going on and on about getting furniture for the house to be more comfortable, but Bucky knew he was full of shit. Tony had given them a bunch of cash and he just wanted to shop.
"You know, you've been down to this bookstore everyday this week... What's her name?" He inquired.
"What?" Bucky tried to keep from smiling, but it was almost impossible whenever he thought about you.
"Yeah okay, you can pretend if you want. She'd better be cute or I'm gonna clown you. Does she know you're half robot?"
"Sam..."
"Relax, I'm kidding," he laughed.
When they pulled into the lot, the men jumped out, but before Sam could open the door Bucky stopped him. 
"Please do not embarrass me." He said seriously. 
"Man, move, you do enough of that on your own," Sam brushed past him. 
"Welcome! I'll be up shortly," you yelled from the back. 
You put away the stack of papers that you were going through and exited the small office. 
"Hi, how may I — oh, Mr. Stan, how are you today?" You smiled. 
"Please, call me Sebastian," he smiled. "I'm good, how are you?" 
You heard some books hit the floor. When you both looked over there, Sam was clutching a rack trying to keep it from falling completely over. 
"Guess I should go help with that. Be right back," you walked off. 
Bucky rolled his eyes. He made busy pretending to look for a new book, but he was having a hard time ignoring your laughing at all of Sam's lame jokes. He finally walked over. 
"Are you done tearing up the store?" He asked. 
"I've already apologized to the lady, Mr. Stan," he teased. 
"Do you have any new recommendations for me today?" Bucky asked, completely ignoring Sam. 
"Oh, yeah, I was telling Anthony about this new thriller we got in today. The author is pretty new to the scene, but this will definitely put her on the map. I had a chance to read it before the book was officially released." You handed him one of the books from the rack. 
"But this is new, so I can't rent it." 
"I won't tell if you won't," you winked and walked away. 
"Are you gonna ask her out?" Sam asked. 
"Are you insane?" He rolled his eyes and followed behind you. 
He handed you the book to check out. He liked your store, because it was a little different from any bookstore he was used to. You sold books, but you also rented the older ones. New books couldn't be rented for six months, but you were always willing to do buybacks for the ones in good condition. 
"Oh, I remember you telling me that you were looking for new recipes. I thought you might like this," you grabbed a cookbook, scanned it and then handed it to him. 
"That's nice, maybe he could whip something up for you," Sam patted his shoulder. 
Bucky gave him another murder glare. 
You laughed at his expression. 
"Don't worry, Mr. Stan, it's fine if you don't want to." 
"No, it's not that I don't want to —" 
"So you do?" You cut him off. 
"I uhh…" he ran his fingers through his hair. "Give me two days to find something that I think you'll like." 
"Your phone?" You held out your hand. 
He handed it to you and you put your number in and gave it back to him. 
"So I'll see you Saturday?" You gave him his bag. 
"Yeah, I'll see you Saturday," he confirmed. "But only if you promise to call me Sebastian." 
"Promise," you chuckled. 
You waved goodbye to the two men and watched them leave. You waited until they were in the car and pulling out of the lot before you picked up your phone and called your best friend. 
"You'll never guess who I have a date with this Saturdayyyy," you sang. 
"Is that weird guy who wears a leather jacket and gloves even though it's hot outside?" She said sarcastically. 
"Yes!" You replied giddy and undeterred by her sarcasm. "You have to help me find something to wear. I also need you to do my nails please?" 
She was quiet for a moment and then she bit out, "Fine, but I think he's weird and if he tries anything you'd better not hesitate to pepper spray him." 
"He's not weird. He's just different and I'm ready to find out what it is." 
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Sam and Bucky walked through the furniture store. Bucky didn't know exactly what he was looking for, but he knew he wanted it to be nice for when you came over. 
He felt like every piece he liked looked really old. He may have been 100 years old, but he didn't have to let you know that.
His eyes were suddenly drawn to this odd looking chair. It was red leather with a high sloped back, a deep arc in the middle and the bottom was low with a slope. He read the tag; Liberator: $400, but who cares? Tony could afford it. 
"You thinking about getting this?" Sam asked, seemingly coming out of nowhere. 
"What do you think? You think this is something she'd like? Should we get a few of them for the front room?" 
"Nah, this should go in your room. I think she'll like it. She's young and this is a very modern piece of furniture." He advised. 
Bucky decided to trust Sam for once. He told the salesperson that he wanted that chaise. The poor girl's face turned a bright red and she was unable to look at him. He didn't pay too much attention to it, he was used to people shying away from his presence. 
The guys picked out the rest of the furniture and headed home. Bucky noticed that Sam was giggly. More so than normal. 
"What are you so happy about?" He asked. 
"Nothing man, a guy can't just feel joy? It's a good day, Buck, we finally got some furniture. You got a really nice chair. I'm happy." He tapped on the dashboard. 
"Why'd you bring up the chair?" Bucky squinted at him. 
"Because it's a nice chair. I like the chair. You know I'm all about relaxation." 
Bucky let it go. If he hated the chair once it was delivered, he'd simply return it. No big deal. 
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Bucky put the final touches on the meal he'd chosen to prepare for you. He garnished the plates, set them on the table and wiped his hands on the apron he was wearing. 
The doorbell rang. You were right on time. He gave the table a once over before coming to the door. 
"Hi," he greeted. 
"Hello there," you said. 
He just stood there and looked at you from head to toe. The white lace dress you wore hugged you perfectly at the top and flared at the waist. 
"Can I come in?" You asked, tearing him away from his thoughts. 
"Oh, yes, sorry. You look beautiful," he said as he walked you to the dining area. 
"So do you. I think the apron is my favorite part," you teased. 
He looked down and quickly removed the apron from around his waist. He blushed a little. You smiled at how cute he was. 
He pulled your chair out and pushed it in once you sat down and then took his seat. 
" It smells wonderful."
"Thank you, I tried something new tonight." 
Truthfully, everything was new for him. Bucky never did any of the cooking. That was usually Sam's thing. He only got the cookbooks to suggest things, but tonight he gave it try for you. 
You took a bite and tried to keep from gagging. You saw Bucky take a bite and immediately swallow. He didn't bother chewing it anymore. 
You took a sip of wine after you were finally able to swallow. 
"It's terrible," he said. 
"No, it's not bad at all," you absolutely lied. 
"I'll order us a pizza," he said and took your plate away. 
You just smiled at him. You didn't have the heart to tell him the food was gross, because he tried and that's what counts. 
You moved to the living room and he turned on the TV while you waited for the pizza. You noticed that he still wore a glove on his left hand and was sure to keep it away from you. You figured he was just a little shy about having a prosthetic arm. 
Once the pizza arrived, you put on some quirky movie and ate your dinner. 
"I'm sorry about this. I should've practiced the recipe a little more." 
"What? This is perfect," you told him. 
You talked with him a little. He told you that he grew up in Brooklyn. How he and Sam were college roommates and started a contracting business together.
You clung to his every word and listened without interrupting. 
"So, are you gonna give me a tour of the house?" You ask. 
"Oh, sure," he says. He slips your shoes off of your feet before walking with you hand in hand to the stairs. 
"It's not much, but this is our office space, that's Sam's room, bathroom and this is my room." He pointed. 
You flipped the switch on in the room. You were shocked and quickly walked over to the red leather chaise.
"You don't strike me as the type to have one of these," you ran your fingers over the cool leather. 
"Oh, yeah, I thought it was a very nice modern piece of furniture to have. Um, Sam actually talked me into it." 
"Did he now?" You smirked. 
"If you hate it, I can move it out of here. I won't force you to look at it," he rubbed his neck. 
"Come here," you reached out for him. 
He gave you his hand and you told him to sit down on the chair. You straddled his lap and moved your hips in a circular motion until you felt him getting hard. He rested his right hand on top of your ass and laid his head back. 
He had been so focused on his work that he'd forgotten how much he missed the feel of a woman. You leaned in close and put your lips to his ear. 
"Undo my dress," you whispered. 
He reached up and pulled the string of the bow ties on your shoulder. The thin material fell down and exposed your breasts. Your nipples immediately pebbled from the cool air. 
You scooted back a little and pulled at his shirt. 
" No," he grabbed your hands, "I um, maybe we shouldn't." 
"What's wrong?" You quiz. 
"Nothing, it's just that I…" He was lost for words. He didn't know how he would explain his arm without you freaking out. 
"Sebastian, I don't care that you have a prosthetic arm or hand. Whichever you hide under these long sleeved shirts and gloves." 
He inhaled and pressed his forehead to your chest. He was nervous. Now he remembered why it had been so long since he'd had a relationship or sex. 
"Hey," you lifted his head, "it's okay, we don't have to do this if you're uncomfortable." You kissed his lips. 
You felt his body relax as he exhaled slowly. First, he took off his glove. You ran your fingers over the shiny black metal. You then lifted the shirt a little, this time he didn't stop you. You pulled it over his head and tossed it aside. 
You lightly dragged your fingers down his neck until you reached where the metal connected to his shoulder. You traced your fingers over the lines of gold, before moving back to his scar. 
"It's connected to you, so is it fully functional?" You were curious. 
"It is," he replied. 
"That's pretty cool. The doctors must've put a lot of work and thought into this." 
"Yeah, much better than the first one I had after the war," he blurted. 
"Oh, you're a vet?" 
"Uh, yeah," he said after realizing his mistake. 
"What was your rank?" 
"Sergeant…" 
"Well, thank you for your service and sacrifice, Sergeant." You pressed your lips to his. 
He slipped his hands underneath your dress and squeezed your ass. The cool metal of his hand made your pussy clench. 
He slid a finger down your ass until he reached your folds. He rubbed your clit in a circular motion over the fabric of your thong. He moaned into your mouth when he pulled it aside and felt how wet you were getting. 
You broke the kiss, stood, unzipped his pants and pulled them down. His hard dick popped up and was at full attention. 
"Sss, ooh," you hissed as you wrapped your hand around him. 
Bucky laid back and closed his eyes. Your hands felt so good on him. You spit on his dick and rubbed it all around making sure it was coated. 
You lined him up with your opening before slowly sinking down on him. 
"Shit!" He had to brace himself and fight a mental battle, so that he wouldn't cum at this very moment. 
You were trying your best to take all of him, but he was stretching you wide and the pain was almost too much. 
Once he was able to get himself together he grabbed your hips and thrust into you. He pulled your dress over your head, so it wouldn't be in the way. 
You rolled your hips slowly and sped up as the pain turned into pleasure. You braced yourself on the balls of your feet and held to the head of the chair as best you could. 
"Bounce on this dick," he smacked your ass. 
You bounced up and down while he sucked a nipple into his mouth. He used his right hand to rub your clit. 
"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," you warned him. 
"Don't." He said and continued to rub. 
"Sebastian, I —" 
He grabbed you by the throat, "I said, no," he stuck his tongue in your mouth and continued to drive his hips upwards. 
He waited until you were right on the edge of your climax and then lifted you up. Your first instinct was to rub yourself to completion, but he stopped you. 
"I'm the only one who touches you from now on. Understand?" 
You nodded, but he wasn't satisfied. He wanted to hear you say it. 
"Yes, I understand," you said as you moved back, so he could stand. 
"Good, girl," he pulled you close to him and kissed you. 
He sat you down at the foot of the chair and dropped to his knees. You spread your legs wide and watched while he admired your pussy. Running his fingers up and down your slit. 
"Can I taste you?" 
"Yes," you moaned and laid back. 
Bucky sucked your clit into his mouth and licked you in circles. He was using his tongue to apply just the right amount of pressure to your clit. 
"You taste so good," he said. He spit on your pussy and rubbed it before sticking two fingers inside of you. 
He sucked your clit into his mouth and curled his fingers a little. 
"Ah! Fuck!" You screamed as you felt an orgasm building. 
He could feel you contracting around his fingers. Once again he kept going until you were almost there, then he pulled his fingers out and stopped sucking. 
"Why? Please!" You begged. 
"Ooh, that was only the second one and you're already begging? It's gonna be a long night, baby girl." He teased. 
He pulled you to the edge a little more, rubbed the head of his dick up and down your slit and then slid inside of you. 
You rolled your nipples in between your fingers while he fucked you. He couldn't take his eyes off of you. He'd wanted to feel you for so long. Ever since the day he wandered into your store and laid eyes on you. 
He pulled out of you and turned you on your stomach. This time switching his pace. He spread your ass cheeks apart and rolled his hips slowly as he watched his dick disappear inside of you. 
"Fuck!" He moaned as he felt himself losing control once again. 
He watched as you clawed at the chair. He could feel your pussy getting tighter and tighter. 
"Can I cum? Can I —" you were cut off by your own moans. Your body didn't wait for permission. 
He felt it. Your pussy gripped him tight and he exploded inside of you. His hips jerked as he gave you every last drop. 
He pulled out and dropped to his knees behind you. 
He smacked your ass, "Give it to me, push it out," he demanded. 
You pushed the cum mixture from your pussy and was shocked when you felt his mouth on you sucking it out. No man you'd ever been with had been so bold or comfortable. 
Once he was satisfied, he stood and turned you around to face him. He squeezed your cheeks together, so you'd open your mouth. You stuck your tongue out ready for what he was about to give. 
You were so fucking turned on, you grabbed his hand and slipped his fingers back into your pussy. 
He spit the cum into your mouth and then kissed you. Swirling his tongue around yours as he fingered you to another quick orgasm. 
He looked at his cum coated fingers and then licked them clean. You couldn't resist kissing him again and tasting yourself on his tongue. 
Bucky picked you up and carried you over to the bed. You didn't want to let him go, but you finally gave in. He walked to the bathroom and came back to clean you up and then himself. 
He got in bed with you and laid his head on your chest. You ran your fingers through his hair. So many nights he'd thought about this moment. So many nights he'd thought about just being closer to you. He wished he could stay with you forever. 
He sighed. 
"What's wrong?" You asked him. 
He sat up and looked at you, he wanted to tell you the truth, but he knew that he couldn't. It would put you in danger and he couldn't risk it. 
"Nothing, everything is perfect," he smiled. 
"You have beautiful eyes, they remind me of someone, but I have never been able to quite put my finger on it."
"Thank you," he kissed you again and turned away. 
You played with his hair until he fell asleep and then you slipped out quietly. 
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You were opening boxes and getting ready to stock a rack of magazines. You'd been doing well with keeping them out of the store, but a few of the teenagers kept asking and you finally caved. You let them know that you drew the line at tablets and that they were absolutely out of the question. 
You flipped through one of the fashion magazines and came across an article about Earth's mightiest heroes. You were skimming the article when you heard a knock at the door. You looked up to see Bucky waving at you. He was holding a cup holder with two coffees and a bag of donuts. 
"Hey," you greeted him. 
He returned your greeting with a soft kiss. You didn't think you could ever get tired of those kisses. 
"Doing some stocking?" 
"Yeah, I was taking a break and reading this article. I finally ordered some magazines for the kids," you picked it up and thumbed through the pages. 
Then he caught your eyes. There he was stretched across the page. The photo had a blue and purple tint to it and his hair was long, but it was most definitely him.
"You're Bucky Barnes," you said in disbelief. 
"What?" He seemed startled by your words. 
"This is you!" You shoved the magazine in his face. "I knew that you looked familiar. A freaking superhero?! You lied to me, Sebastian — Bucky, whatever your name is!" 
"No, it's not like that, I couldn't tell you." He tried to explain. "I'm on a mission. Sam and I, we're undercover." 
"Oh, you're on a mission, so get with a local to blend in a little better? Ugh! I knew you were too good to be true." You paced back and forth. 
"No, that's not true," he grabbed you, "my feelings for you are completely real."
You squinted at him, "Get off of me and get out, because you'd still be lying to me if you'd never gotten caught." You pushed him away and walked into your office slamming the door behind you. 
Bucky picked up the box of magazines and took them. If you recognized him someone else would too. He couldn't take that chance. 
He knew doing that stupid photo shoot would backfire. He didn't want to do it, but Steve and Sam talked him into it, because it was for a good cause. He knew they'd have to speed up their plans. 
He called Sam as he headed back to the house and let him know that they had to move in on the targets sooner rather than later. 
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You came out of your office once you were sure Bucky was gone. You looked around to see that he had taken the boxes. 
"Great now he's a liar and a klepto," you rolled your eyes. 
You heard the bell on the door and turned around thinking it was Bucky again, but it was just one of the people who ran the laundromat a few doors down. 
"Oh, hey, Austin," you looked at your watch, "is something wrong? You know I'm not open yet." 
He didn't say anything. He just kept stalking towards you. Your fight or flight kicked into gear and you made a dash for the door. He reached out and grabbed you, but you kneed him in the balls to escape. 
You didn't get very far before you were grabbed from behind. They put a bag over your head and threw you into the back of a car where they zip tied your hands in front of you. 
"Let me go! What do you want?!" You kicked and screamed. 
"Keep it up and I'll gag you… Maybe even with my cock," you heard one of them chuckle. 
You immediately calmed down. Last thing you wanted was that. 
"Please, if you want money you'll have to take me back to the store. I keep it in the safe." 
"Shut up, we won't tell you again." Austin said. 
"Austin, please tell me why you're doing this?" 
"Because your little boyfriend needs to be taught a lesson. Him and his friend have been causing trouble and it's bad for business. Unfortunately, sweetheart, you're collateral damage." 
They drove you for almost 20 minutes before they dragged you from the car and into a building. They took you inside, sat you down and bound you to a chair. 
"Call your boyfriend," one of his henchmen ordered. 
"How exactly am I supposed to do that with my hands tied, genius?" You sassed. 
He reached into your pocket and pulled up his name. You could hear the line ringing. 
"Can you at least take the bag off of my head?" You requested. 
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Bucky was fuming. He and Sam had followed the rest of Austin's gang to this warehouse. But when Austin himself pulled in, he had you. 
He thought it was odd that they were all coming out here, but now he sees that this is a set up. His phone was vibrating in his pocket. It was a call from you. 
He accepted the call and sat his phone down to look through his scope. 
"You can either let her go right now or I will kill every single one of you." He said calmly. 
"Sebastian," you cried. 
"It's okay, baby girl, I got you," he hung up. 
He let off two shots taking out the men who stood guard at the door. He took down the others as they came running from the building. 
"I'm in position," Sam said into his comms. 
Bucky jumped down from the tree he was in and moved in. He hoped you were safe. He never meant for this to happen to you. 
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You heard the shots. They were so loud and it seemed like all hell broke loose after. The men around you started shouting and then you heard the door slam. 
You rocked from side to side in the chair until it tipped over. You tried your best to get loose, but nothing was helping. You started to panic as the gunshots were getting closer. 
Fear and adrenaline took over and your ears began to ring. It seemed like the bag was keeping you from breathing as you started to hyperventilate. 
You started screaming when you heard the door get kicked open. You could feel the person cutting the tape away. You were gonna fight this time. They wouldn't get the opportunity to take you somewhere else. They'll kill you for sure. 
Once your hands were free you started swinging. 
"Stop!" Bucky yelled. "It's me—" 
You punched him in the eye. He could barely get a grip on you, but when he finally did, he snatched the bag off. 
"Y/N! It's me, calm down." He hugged you. 
You relaxed into his hold and sobbed into his neck. 
"They were gon-gonna kill m-me," you stuttered. 
"I never gave them the chance. You're safe now." 
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Weeks had gone by and nobody spoke a word about Austin or his mysterious disappearance. In fact, people seemed to celebrate the fact that he was gone. 
He'd been running a drug operation through the town and using his business as a front. Apparently, he had ties to Hydra, which is why Sam and Bucky were brought in to shut him down. 
You were back at your store and business resumed as normal. Bucky had left the same night of the incident. He didn't even say goodbye. He was too ashamed to face you. 
You heard the bell above the door and looked up from your phone. Your heart skipped a beat when those blue eyes stared back at you. 
"Hey," he waved. 
"I'm busy," you said and tried to walk away.
"Wait, please," he grabbed your arm, "please?" He asked a little softer. 
"I'm mad at you, you didn't even say goodbye!" 
"I know and I should have, but I was a punk and I want to make it right." He pleaded. 
"You have two minutes," you crossed your arms. 
He lifted you up on the counter and stood in front of you. It was very dramatic. 
"I'm James, but my friends call me Bucky. I'm 103 years old, but I spent most of those years frozen and brainwashed. I really did lose my arm in the war, but it was world war 2. I'm from Brooklyn and my favorite food is pizza." He said. "Oh and I fought in two alien wars, although it felt like only one, because I died in the first one and when I woke up 5 years had passed." 
"Hi, Bucky, nice to meet you." 
You pulled him in for a passionate kiss. He pulled away and pressed your forehead to his. 
"I'm sorry," he said. 
He helped you down and watched you lock the front door and switch your sign to closed. 
"If you're really sorry, you'll make it up to me," you grabbed his hand. 
He scooped you up and carried you to your office. He'd absolutely make it up to you with no problem. 
@titty-teetee​
@bluestarego​
@literaturefeen​
@fandomfavesss​
@angrythingstarlight​
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revelaare · 4 years
Text
Shit said in the Crimson Discord & VC, taken out of context part 2, (the sequel)
Big NSFW warning, probably
his meat slid off and then slid right back on
[PRONOUN] can punch me in my uterus and make a hammock out of my ovaries
it’s one of the worst fucking things i’ve ever heard, and i’ve heard someone literally shit their pants
they tagged me and my ass clenched
this man just said “I want to eat ur ass and then kiss you” ok buddy
a man with a plan
my grandpa is texting his hoes from his flip phone
god my lawyer was a hit but idk if she will be the chosen one or not
hello give me your toenails
i'll touch you in a non-weird way
he was in that movie with the people, he was the human.
i want her to brush my hair
If we have dick glasses they have to be of the highest quality for the best experience
i don't wanna watch that white nonsense
i would throat him like a fine wine
these millenials can't live without ac? back in my day we lived on the sun
yall better put those goats on a wheel, tell them to start running
he looks like a bitch
yes or no, u wud punch the light bulb out of thomas edisons wrinkly pruned hand and asked him if he believed in god
still has skin and a working body
i needed to wait until my voice changes
you thought i was snacking on joe biden’s savory meat stick
barack guckin oglizzy, oguckma, barack osugma, Joe choden, OglchnnngggHHHYynnUUUnnghhma
why did i have a dream that i was taking the lid off my car
false gods require wine, real gods require coochiefice
fettucine wet ass pussy
that was all you sent me. the picture of a raccoon and then nothing
it isn’t hate, it is ‘continuously let down by’.
i never went to school who science
i’m gunna go peer pressure my mum into a shot
thank you for furthering my career at hot topic
i will suck the ingrown hair off of him
it has huge jackman in it
i chomped on this eggshell, got my calcium in for the day
i will take you to touch the mango
i want to see all the big things
[PRONOUN] has collar bones so deep you could hook a clothing hanger into it
no asscheeks in fucking family chat you animals
he will eat you alive and suck out your intestines like its a spaghetti noodle
[NAMES]’s Tiggle Biddie’s
dropped acid, cried the whole night.
my stomach is hooping and hollering, i’m about to eat some sleep
you want my throatsac ??
please dont know me as the toenail eater
you have to keep the skin on one side while you eat the other, thats basic mango physics
i mean he is some good sasuage
calm down dick Hannibal
respectfully, what the fuck is this
tbf i only eat my steaks where they need tampons
you committed acts of culinary terrorism
does your refrigerator whimper and cower in the corner when you approach it. that's your fridge trying to use echo location to locate a safe space
thundercuck
i almost met Jesus, I almost got an autograph. Almost got a greatest hits signed album.
respectfully, are you smoking fucking crack?
my left testicle could play better than you
i’ll eat him with ketchup
son of a biscuit eating bulldog!
now it’s back to me sucking, all is right in the world.
holy fuck weasels.
holy fuck, weasels!
why does the bad guy look like the Statue of Liberty?
this is a man that sometimes willingly dresses like a lumberjack
and me, being an emotional cripple, must make jokes about this.
hey my name is [NAME] i'm **definitely** who i say i am
[NAME OR PRONOUN] offered a back massage by calling it the “tickle thing”
i love a man who puts his parents in a nursing home.
my brain is going to take a hot shower
wait have u seen steve harvey's coochie
if it were me i would simply not be pregnant
look im not about to be out here saying i love [NAME OR PRONOUN] feet, but i am about to be out here saying that their feet are some of the nicest feet i've seen in a long time
i named my cloyster renesmee
[NAME] was texting me from the bathtub
you’re pregnant? That’s unfortunate.
do I say dumb shit? Perhaps. Do I take ownership? Perhaps.
i pay for things in blissful ignorance
i am an emotional vagrant
i am an emotional fragrance
to make a long motherfucking story short...
this enchilada tastes like asshole and sadness
you are not an ugly bitch, you’re just a bitch
that’s not a nut shot, buddy.
i’m sad because i sucked the meat off of this pumpkin spice latte
i want to make a blanket out of his eyebrows
what are you disgracing my Christian eyes for?
he be looking at that dick like why does it go so much to the left?
I want her to record an audio book for me so I can fall asleep listening to her voice.
Can I lick you like an ice cream cone? Asking for science.
like you're out to lunch with your bromie and you're eating some rubens or something and you wistfully look over the rim of your sunglasses and just: You ever buss 2 fast
my accent is flaccid
timotay chalamaymay’s sweet ass
on the bright side mcallister’s gave me 3 pickle spears. Almost enough to make a whole pickle.
you think they came from the same mommy pickle?
HIS DOODLE IS OUT
i thot that meant [NAME] wanted to...doodle his noodle
i don’t use commas, i don't respect u enough, fuck ur reading comprehension.
does australia have seasons
i want someone to embalm my body with mcdonalds sprite
his hermione grangina
purrrr my last email
its lore locked beneath 30 layers. u can only understand it if uve had a near death experience
LET'S GET FUCKY
i wanna have the heart of a stoner
his man titties look like little tattooed pillows
SWIGGITY SWOOTY COMIN FOR THAT BOOTY
there were no cheeks to shake. nothing to clap. no noise to be had from her literal slices of wonderbread
u ever just fuck around and ur tits fart
put a lil mint leaf on it for authenticity
alright brother god bless may u be fertile
i feel like im being advocated for something i shouldnt be advocating for
and i am adam with my fat pendulous balls lol
i’m making whuppie with whoopie godberg
theodore tits fart rex
yeah man do u also have the third toe on ur shoulder
the green spaghetti monster is coming for me and i can't blame him
today i learned starfish do not poop
that was nothing compared to some other things I saw
listen I'd willingly watch [NAME/PRONOUN] in a cell for 24 hours. Imagine that sounded less creepy
i'd lick a dirty flip flop off her abs
i’m tempted to show you all the gravity defining boobs, maybe tomorrow
my brain is on vacation
good morning! i ate breakfast and im ready to go to bed
tape the titty in
ive unironically had nightmares with [NAME] in them
the peanut in the auditory canal
so far this feel all comfortable, does this all make sense?
i know it's kind of a schlep to get through
nail polish or no nail polish for the shower?
and then he saw those big tt honkerz... and it all went down hill from there
can y’all stop chanting curses in the chat my furniture is stuck on the ceiling
EH?! CIAO? HELLO??
in Russia this is not ok 
i can’t buy pants here on Sunday either
IT'S LIKE TWELVE THOUSAND DOLLARS TO EAT ON A SOGGY PANCAKE
imagine me going up to [NAME/PRONOUN] and being like i love the way ur flesh smells
in a supermarket. The sickly blue light where humans congregate. Animal human masses. Nameless faces. Whole lives boiled into generalized categories like "asshole who definitely does need 4 boxes of cheerios". Yout hink and realize while stabding in line u didnt grab the bag of frozen peas...but its 2 late
its truly the only picture that gives me pure joy
are weasels real
my work mum just messaged me the phrase "use your booty call wisely" with no context
"let's bring u to the mustache chair"
If you’re not doing coke under the coke sign what is the point?
6 notes · View notes
freddiesaysalright · 5 years
Text
Peace Like A River Part 1
A Gwilym Lee x Reader Story
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Summary: Reader is a stand up comic with a pretty dark past. She has a three new lights in her life: her daughter, Violet; her anonymous correspondent, Dear Friend; and Gwilym Lee. 
Word Count: 3.4K
Tag List: @psychosupernatural @someone-get-a-medic @bensrhapsody @deakyclicks If you’d like to be added, let me know!
A/N: Sorry this took so long! I had like the snippet of an idea for this and then needed more for a plot, but I think I’ve finally got it together lol. Hope y’all like it!
Part I here we go!!!
Grinning, you read over the letter once more from backstage. His words in that graceful, loopy handwriting warmed you from your heart to your toes. You sighed contentedly, stuffed the paper into your back pocket for luck, and waited for your cue.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage, Y/N Y/L/N!” the host cried. 
You shook out the last of your nerves and walked out on the stage, waving and grinning at the huge crowd that stood and applauded for you. You had never done a show for an audience this large and it was both intimidating and exhilarating. 
“Thank you!” you said, as you waited for them to stop cheering. “Thank you. Thank you all for coming. Really, I appreciate it because whenever I have to go out and do things, I think about killing myself.”
A nervous titter went through the crowd and you smiled again.
“Seriously, I do. I’ll think about killing myself over nothing. Like, the other day, I was in the car on my way home from the store and my sister called me and asked me to stop by her place and help her and her husband move furniture. And I actually thought ‘If I crashed my car right now and died, I wouldn’t have to go move any fucking furniture.’”
They laughed.
“It’s crazy, I know, but I casually think about it any time I’m even minorly inconvenienced. But what stops me from doing it - like, my next line of thought - is something equally meaningless. Like, in that scenario with my sister, the thing that held me back was like, I thought ‘But fuck, Bohemian Rhapsody is coming out in like two months and I really wanna see that.’”
A couple cheers came through the laughter and you smiled.
“Oh, we got some Queen fans in here tonight?” you said. 
More cheers.
“Yeah, cheer, clap, fuck yeah!”
A swell of shouts and whistles went through the crowd and you joined them.
“Fuck yeah, y’all were raised right,” you said when it settled down. “Queen is a great band. Just four sexy dudes making banger after banger. They’re legitimately my favorite band. I’m not gonna lie, they really got me through some shit, but we’ll come back to my trauma later.”
You paused for a small bit of laughter.
“Now normally, I don’t like when comedians talk about Queen. And by that, I mean, I don’t like it when comedians talk about Freddie Mercury,” you said. “And it’s not for some pretentious reason like they’re not real fans or something. It’s literally just that when people joke about Freddie Mercury, they joke about the same two things - his teeth and his sexuality - two extremely fucking boring things to joke about.”
You took a sip of water.
“Not only are they boring, they’re just rude. Like, these are things this man was born with and couldn’t change about himself - he had no control over that. What he did have control over - the fucking ridiculous lyrics of Under Pressure.”
A giggle went through them. You smiled.
“I’m serious. Have any of you ever looked up the lyrics to that song? Most of it doesn’t really bother me, it’s just those weird scat-like shit Freddie does between verses. Like, they have these great, meaningful lines followed by Freddie going ‘Um, bah, bah, bay.’ What the fuck?”
They laughed.
“That shit is in the official lyrics of that legendary song and I think about that every goddamn day. That and fucking ‘dee, dah, day - ok!’ Shit like that is how you know these dudes were on drugs. One of those guys came up with that, pitched it to four other people - if not more - and they all went ‘fuckin genius’ and bam! Under Pressure is one of the greatest hits of all time.”
They laughed harder.
“I guess I’m not as disturbed by that as I am by the fact that the people ate it up like they did. It’s one thing for those guys to say it’s genius, but then for us as the public to say it as well just fucks me up. The first time I heard that song I was like ‘what the cinnamon toast fuck am I listening to?’ Shit was weird.”
You took another drink as they laughed. 
“But honestly, I don’t understand why people go for Freddie’s sexuality when there are clearly much more roastable things to talk about. I don’t care how rich and famous he was, if you’re a straight white guy making fun of gay brown guy for being either or both of those things, you’re punching down, dude, and that’s not comedy, that’s just being an asshole.”
For that, they applauded. You continued on through your set, and this audience was great for you. They were responsive and you held their attention throughout. You were almost ready to close the show.
“I always like to end my shows with the most important person in my life,” you said. “I’ve talked about her already tonight, and she’s my daughter, Violet.”
The tech guys put a picture of her up on the projector behind you. You beamed at it. 
“That’s her. She’s three years old and she’s my everything. She’s the reason I get on stage and in front of cameras. She’s the real reason I don’t crash my car to get out of moving furniture.”
With one final laugh, you bid them goodnight. You took a little bow at the roar of applause and smiled widely. You said a few more thank yous before the spotlight dimmed and you walked off stage to the sound of cheering and clapping. It never ceased to amaze you how far you had come. 
Someone took the mic for you as your assistant approached. She was a recent hire, and something you initially resisted. But now that your name and brand had grown, you really did need the help. Her name was Stacy, and she was incredibly efficient. You liked her, as did Violet, which sold you on hiring her.
“Great show,” she said with a smile. “Vi is asleep in the green room. We’ve got a couple VIP guests for you to meet before we take you both back to the hotel.”
“Alright, lead the way,” you replied.
You followed her to another room backstage where you saw a group of men. Most of them had their back to you, but one face, you recognized. Gwilym Lee, who you considered a friend, even though you hadn’t spoken in a while.
Before you had really thrown yourself into standup, you did a bit of acting. You and Gwilym shot a pilot of a sitcom that unfortunately never aired, but while filming, you had become really close. You even felt like he was flirting with you a few times, but back then you were nowhere near ready to start a new relationship, so you’d kept things strictly platonic. Nowadays, you mostly liked each others pictures on Instagram as your main form of communication. But life was busy for both of you. You were on tour and he had gone on to films.
You started to smile but then froze when the man next to Gwilym turned his head. You grabbed Stacy’s arm harshly.
“Holy shit is that Brian May?” you wondered.
She chuckled. “Yeah! The VIP guests are Queen and the cast of Bohemian Rhapsody.”
“Shut the fuck up!” you cried. “Really?!”
“Yep,” she assured you. “Go on in and say hello.”
Your stomach dropped with nerves. Again, you shook yourself free of them and donned your stage personality. Slipping into that mask was where you were most comfortable. While you talked about the things you had endured in your comedy, there it was lighthearted, and you did not have to face it head on. You could throw a joke out and dodge it. 
“Well, hello!” you said brightly as you entered the room. 
They all turned eyes on you and smiled as you were introduced. Brian May and Roger Taylor were without a doubt the most thrilling to shake hands with, but Rami Malek, Joe Mazzello, and Ben Hardy were also exciting. When it came time to shake hands with Gwilym, you offered a warm, friendly smile. 
“It’s great to see you again,” you said. “It’s been two years or so now?”
“Just about,” he replied. “You were wonderful.”
“Thank you!”
“Gwil was the one who convinced us to come tonight,” Joe explained. “He said you were hilarious on set when you filmed before.”
“That’s sweet,” you replied. “It is a shame that show never took off, it was a good one.”
“I certainly loved it,” Gwilym said. 
You chatted with them for a bit. They all were calming to be around. Brian and Roger were complimentary of your bit about Under Pressure, which eased some of your nerves about the set. Even though you were, you didn’t feel like you were putting on a show for them. In minutes, it felt like they were your friends. 
The door opened shortly after and in walked Stacy, hand in hand with your very sleepy daughter. She clutched her stuffed dog close to her chest as she ran right to you and crawled into you lap. You wrapped your arms around her and held her close, kissing the top of her head. She eyed the guests warily. 
“What are you doing awake, sweetie?” you asked gently, stroking her hair. 
“She woke up for a little while,” Stacy explained. “I tried to get her back down but all she wanted was Mommy.”
You smiled. “That’s okay. You can have Mommy whenever you want her.”
She snuggled into your chest, turning her face away from the strangers. 
“You don’t want to say hello?” you wondered, and she shook her head. You looked at the guys. “Sorry. She’s kinda shy.”
“That’s alright,” said Brian. 
“She’s grown up,” Gwilym said. “Last time I saw her, she was just learning to walk.”
“Oh, yeah,” you remembered. “She actually walked right into you during a scene.”
You both chuckled at the memory.  
“The director was almost mad, but she was so cute,” he continued. 
He knelt down in front of you and gently touched her arm. She turned her face to just barely peek at him. 
“Hi, Violet,” he said sweetly, smiling at her. “It’s been a while.”
Her brow furrowed. 
“You were still a little baby,” you explained to her. “But you’ve met Gwilym before.”
She relaxed and looked between you and him. 
“Daddy?” she questioned. 
You stiffened and cleared your throat uncomfortably. Then shook your head. 
“No, baby,” you told her. “No Daddy.”
She pouted at you and then hid her face again. You looked apologetically at Gwilym, who shrugged it off. He started to get up, but hesitated to pick something up off the ground. It was your letter that had been in your pocket. He held it out to you. 
“Is this yours?” he asked. 
You quickly took it, your face flushing with embarrassment. Even though there was no way he knew what it was, you still felt really shy about the whole situation. 
“Yeah, thanks,” you said, not meeting his eyes as you stuffed it back into your pocket. 
“A letter?” he questioned. 
“Just some particularly touching fanmail,” you lied. 
“Not enough people write letters anymore in my opinion,” said Roger. 
“Why sit and write a letter when you can send a text?” Ben replied. “It’s much faster.”
“Yeah, but I sort of miss the anticipation involved in letter writing,” Brian said in agreement with his bandmate. 
You continued to visit with them as Violet slowly fell asleep again against you. For a while, you felt Gwilym’s eyes on you intensely. His expression was odd. It appeared he thought he knew something more about you. It made you shift in your seat a few times before at last, he seemed to let go of whatever question was burning in his mind. 
They visited for about another half hour before you really did need to get back to your hotel, and so did they. You said fond farewells to all of them, reassured them that you would see the movie, and then it came to Gwilym. 
“We’re in New York for a few days,” he said. “Let me know if you’d like to get coffee or something and catch up.”
“That would be great,” you replied with a smile. 
You gave him a side hug since you had Violet on your hip, sleeping soundly. Her stuffed dog slipped from her hand but Gwil caught it before it hit the ground and handed it to you. 
“Can’t have that,” he said lightly. 
“Thank you,” you returned, taking it. You looked at all of them. “Have a wonderful night, guys. It was so great chatting with you.”
They all bid you one final farewell. Gwilym was the last to leave and you shared a lingering look with him before he closed the door. You continued to stare at the spot where he disappeared, realizing now how much you had missed him these last couple years. 
“Ready to go to bed?” Stacy asked. 
With a yawn, you nodded, and she ordered an Uber to take all three of you back to the hotel you were staying in. It wasn’t far from the venue, since you would be doing three shows there this week before moving on Boston. Stacy eyed you with an odd smirk as you stared out the car window. Finally, you looked at her. 
“What is it?” you asked, a bit snappier than you intended. 
“You and Gwilym Lee seemed to have a little something going on,” she said with a sly smirk. 
You rolled your eyes. “We just knew each other a couple years ago. Besides, you know I’m...involved with someone.”
“Ah, right,” she said, rolling her eyes now. “The ever elusive Dear Friend.”
“Hey, if anyone’s elusive, it’s me,” you said. “I was the one who made the arrangement what it is.”
“Y/N, you write letters to some mystery man,” she replied. “He could be anyone. Gwilym Lee is a real person and right in front of you.” 
“Dear Friend is a real person,” you argued. “I’ve just never met him.”
“And yet you’re convinced he’s your soulmate,” she returned. “I just don’t get it. How can you fall in love with someone through paper?”
“You don’t understand,” you said. “You’ve never read his letters. He’s so...eloquent and smart. And I can be myself with him. I can share my deepest thoughts and desires without any fear of judgement. He does so with me as well. It’s a real connection. The strongest I’ve ever felt with anyone.”
“You don’t know anything real about each other,” she insisted. “Not your names, not your jobs, where you live-”
“Those things don’t matter,” you cut across her. “The real stuff is deeper than that. And that’s where Dear Friend and I meet.”
“Whatever,” she said dismissively, weary of having this discussion yet again. “You’ve got your family reunion on your last day in town. I suggest you find a man in person to go with you. If you show up without someone again, I think your mother will actually lose her mind.”
You considered this. She was right, your mother absolutely hounded you about your romantic life since Violet was born. You told her you weren’t ready since your marriage had left you so scarred. You didn’t tell her about Dear Friend, though, since you knew she could never understand something like that. Plus, you had only been corresponding for a year.  
“I think Gwilym would go with you,” Stacy said, nudging you with her elbow. 
“I was thinking more along the lines of hiring some actor to be my boyfriend,” you replied. “I don’t want to expose Gwilym to my family. He’s been nothing but nice to me.”
She chuckled. “At least take him up on the coffee. I really think you should explore your options in case this Dear Friend isn’t who he says he is.”
“I will take him up on the coffee,” you assured her. “But it’s not a date. In the meantime, find some poor struggling actor to go with me and get my mother off my back.”
“I’m on it,” she assured you, already looking through her phone to get started. 
You reached the hotel at last. You took Violet to your room, bidding Stacy goodnight as she went to her room next door. You tucked your daughter into bed and kissed her on the forehead before heading over the desk. You pulled out the letter from Dear Friend that was still in your pocket and read it once more. Then you pulled out your stationery and pen to begin your reply. You were halfway through your letter when you remembered Gwilym. 
You opened your phone and pulled up his number, which you had from your days of being coworkers. You opened up a text to send to him and found yourself blanking on what to say. You had written paragraphs to Dear Friend, but when it came to asking someone to get a simple cup of coffee, you had no idea how to phrase it. It made you all the more certain Dear Friend was your person. Words came easily when talking to him. 
You went with your stage personality. You sent a casual, “Is tomorrow too soon for that coffee?” with a silly emoji. Then you returned to your letter. Gwilym texted back almost right away and suggested meeting around nine in the morning, which you agreed to. Then you finished writing your letter and sealed it in an envelope for Stacy to send off in the morning. 
The letters always took some time. One thing you knew about Dear Friend was that he was from the UK. The PO box you sent the letters to was in London, but you could also tell from the way he spelled things. You often teased each other about these differences. So of course, they took longer to send and receive. But, you agreed with Brian May that the anticipation of getting one was one of the most exciting parts of the experience. 
Another benefit of him being across the pond meant that your opportunities to meet were few. In fact, you hadn’t had one since you started writing. It was a bit of a relief. You knew you loved Dear Friend, but keeping him at arm’s (well, ocean’s) length felt safest. And after your brutal marriage to Violet’s father, Henry, being safe was of top priority for you. And yet, the desire to be with Dear Friend grew daily. It just terrified you to face the reality of it. 
The next morning, you dropped the letter and Violet off with Stacy while you went to meet up with Gwilym. You went to a local coffee shop and ordered. You paid, and he protested, but you insisted, and assured him that he could get it next time. You grabbed a table and started talking. You told him you were still living in Los Angeles and that you were mostly doing shows out in California. You tended to avoid New York, since Henry and his friends and family were still there and he was still an NYPD officer. You couldn’t avoid it on tour, though, nor your family reunion. You told Gwilym about the reunion, but not the part about you ex-husband. 
“You’re hiring someone?” he asked, baffled. “A stranger?”
“Yeah,” you said. “Some guy that was rejected from Broadway or something. I’ll pay him, and we’ll come up with a story for my mother, and then the next time I see her I’ll tell her how we tragically broke up.”
“That’s ridiculous,” he said with a laugh. “I’ll do it for you.”
You blinked. “You really don’t have to-”
“I don’t mind,” he said. “We’re friends. I know meeting strange men is difficult for you.”
Gwilym knew that Henry had abused you because you talked about it in your sets. You never got into gruesome detail, although you had confessed a few things to Dear Friend. You talked on stage about not dating because of what you had been through. It was extremely kind of Gwilym to offer this, and you weren’t sure how you could thank him. Your comedian mask slipped on again. 
“I’m not sure I can afford your rates, Mr. Lee,” you teased. 
“How much was my coffee?” he returned. 
“Five dollars,” you told him. 
“Well, it turns out, for friends, I offer a discounted price of five dollars,” he joked. “So, consider it payment for the coffee.”
Your brow furrowed. “Are you sure about this?”
“Really, it’s fine,” he reassured you. “It’s just one day.”
“I can’t tell you how grateful I am,” you said, seriously. 
He raised a curious eyebrow at your tone. 
“I mean, it’s just one of the nicest things,” you continued, blushing once again under his gaze. “You’re a very generous person, Gwilym.”
“Perhaps,” he said. “Or you’re just still getting used to kindness.”
You smiled, unwilling to go any deeper. 
“Let’s chalk it up to a combination of both,” you said lightly. 
You finished your coffees and headed to the door. He had to go to an interview and you were going to take Violet around the city since the weather was nice. As you hugged goodbye, you smiled up at him. 
“See you Saturday?” you asked. 
“Saturday,” he affirmed.
209 notes · View notes
midnightelite · 4 years
Text
A Witch’s Guide to Pillow Forts: The Barrette Method
Me and @solstilla​ co-wrote a cute little one-shot for you guys!
He can battle Slytherins, he can face Death Eaters, he can even look Voldemort in the eye and defy him. But he can not stand thunderstorms. Fluff fic!
You can read it on AO3 or FFN
The rain was pounding on the roof of James and Lily’s brand new apartment-their first apartment they’d ever owned together. Hopefully, it would be one of many. Lily lay surrounded by cool air and the smell of James and Sirius’s apartment as it still lingered on the furniture. It was familiar and comforting; the perfect combination filled her heart with the feeling of home, slowly lulling her to the brink of sleep. Between moving out of her parents’ home, helping Sirius and James pack up their old apartment, and unloading boxes from the rental van her father had gotten her, Lily was absolutely knackered.
She vaguely heard the front door open and close, and the sound pulled her back to reality. James had just returned from Sirius’s new flat! Her face lit up as James entered the room, scrambling up from her spot on the sofa and bounding into his arms. Lily smiled up into his eyes, going on her toes to press her lips to his. James ducked before their lips met, a small smirk gracing his features before he pulled her into a tight hug.
“You were gone entirely too long. I missed you,” she whispered, burying her face into his shoulder. “You owe me James time tonight. Do you hear me?“ Lily tilted her head back to look up at him, her nose bumping his with how close they were.
“Oh isn’t someone getting overly attached now that we live together? If you’re lucky, you’ll get some James time.” He pressed a kiss to her nose and pulled back, starting to walk away. 
“James!” she squealed, taking hold of his hand so he wouldn’t go too far. “You missed!” Lily tugged him closer with their conjoined hands, batting her lashes up at the dark-haired boy. 
“Actually, I’m pretty sure I hit my mark.” He winked before turning and leaving the room.
She watched him leave, her lips parting in surprise. What was he up to? James had never rejected a kiss from her, and while she could tell he wasn’t upset, Lily knew he was up to something. She heard the shower in their downstairs bathroom turn on and huffed before sitting back on the sofa. Fine. Two could play at that game. 
As the minutes ticked on, Lily got lost in the sound of the rain hitting the window pane. It reminded her of how much Petunia and her enjoyed rainy days when they were younger. Memories came flooding back, memories of laughter and togetherness, and simpler times. 
Petunia raced in, holding a pile of blankets in her hands. “Lily! Come help me hang these!” Lily looked up from where she sat. She stood up to grab a blanket from Petunia and once she started building, she copied Tuney’s precise work. The two worked tirelessly to perfect their own little blanket castle. Bed sheets flung over the armchairs and clipped onto each other with Lily’s barrettes. The barrettes were the most important part. Not only did using the many different color barrettes the girls had introduce decoration to their design, it was crucial to the structural integrity. With the barrettes in place, their castle was looking good. After the two sisters made sufficient progress on the walls of the structure, they switched to the interior, laying down every pillow and cushion they could find along the floor in front of the sofa. Quilts and fuzzy blankets draped over the tops of the cushions so the cracks in between the pillows wouldn’t be as noticeable, but they were lacking the right amount to fully snuggle underneath. Their mother must have heard them complaining, for moments later she would usually stroll in carrying a heap of fuzzy blankets.
 When their masterpiece was finally finished, Petunia would crawl inside carrying a torch with her. Lily, on the other hand, found it much more important to bring their favorite fairy tales with them. Although it sometimes took some begging, Tuney would read those treasured stories of fairies, unicorns, and even wizards! Weaving entire worlds around battles and romance with the thunder crashing down around them. A little later on their parents would usually join them, taking over the storytelling so that both girls could snuggle close together.  With the fireplace lit just outside their own little fortress, their imaginations filled with wonders beyond belief, and their parents by their sides, little Lily had never been more at peace. 
The rain was picking up outside, but Lily didn’t notice the sound until the boom of thunder forced her back to the present. 
Thump. 
Well that wasn’t thunder. The sound seemed to originate from the bathroom, so she stood to investigate when James came barreling into their living room donning nothing but a towel hastily tied around his hips. Lily’s eyes scanned him up and down. He hadn’t even dried off yet.
“Where’s the fire?” 
“What do you mean fire? My life was at risk! Showering during a lightning storm? Do you want to be a widow?” He tried to hide the panic in his eyes, passing it off as a joke. He failed miserably, if Lily’s stifled laughter was anything to consider. At least she was kind enough to try to hide it. 
“James, deer, we’re not even engaged.” Lily slipped her hand into his, squeezing gently. 
“We already have three children,” James said in such a matter-of-fact voice Lily had to wrack her brain to remember when she was ever pregnant. “Considering how Sirius, Peter and Remus act, and all.” He added. That made more sense. “I feel like we are basically married at this point. Which means me dying would make you a widow.” 
Lily snorted. “Right. Well the storm isn’t going to kill yo-” Another crash of thunder echoed outside, and he couldn’t help the jump his body decided was appropriate given the circumstance. And that’s when it hit her. “Oh my gosh, you’re scared.” 
“Me? Scared? Absolutely not! I literally dueled Slytherin students in the corridor. I faced Death Eaters just last week! I looked Voldemort in the eye and told him no. This is just weather Lily. Please pull yourself together and stop projecting.” He hoped the tremor wasn’t evident in his voice. 
Lily couldn’t help but grin, watching her boyfriend as she leaned against the back of the sofa. James was visibly trying not to squirm under her penetrative gaze. She knew this was nothing compared to his daily life, but he was still at least a little bit scared. How was it possible for one man to be so adorable? 
“Hmm. Right. Okay, I’ll stop projecting,” Before Lily could continue her thought, another boom shook the house. This time even Lily had to admit she was a bit startled, but James...James was a whole other story. The color from his face drained and you could see the anxiety behind his eyes. 
 She shot him a knowing look, her eyes speaking for her. “Fess up, buttercup.” 
“OkaywhenIlivedwithmyparentsyoucouldn’treallyhearorseeanythingfrommyroomandthenwhenImovedinwithSiriushealwaysdistractedmebylettingloosemysnitchormakingmeplaywizard’schessuntilIdidn’tnoticethestormanymore!” James mumbled incomprehensibly.
“What?” Lily shook her head. “I got like half of that. James, love, it’s me. You can tell me anything. You know that.”
James took a deep breath. “I am a bit afraid, okay? I didn't notice as a kid when I lived with my parents. The house was so big the sound never really carried in. I did notice very much when I moved in with Sirius, but he was always good at distracting me! Now…” James’s eyes fell toward the ground. He looked defeated. 
“Now you need a distraction,” Lily finished, nodding her head. Everyone had their thing. Lily had spiders. James had thunderstorms. Honestly, it was a bit relieving to see someone usually so strong and fearless have simple fears like this. But she wasn’t going to let what happened earlier just slip by without a proper response. 
She smirked, tilting her head to the side. Her fingers found their way into her red locks, twirling a strand playfully. “And your wife isn’t a distraction enough?” She pouted her lips, looking up at him with the biggest doe eyes James Potter had ever seen. 
His eyebrows disappeared behind his damp hair. Lowering his voice, the corners of his lips quirked up.  “You are more than enough a distraction” James leaned in to meet her lips.
Perfect. Right where she wanted him. She let him linger right in front of her, so close they were almost touching. Almost. 
“I have a better idea,” her lips quirked up at the corners, reminiscent of the man standing in front of her. James’s eyebrows rose momentarily before he began to wiggle them. She had to suppress a laugh and waited a few seconds, letting him hang on the edge. James lingered just on the precipice of seduction before Lily changed her demeanor entirely. Just as he made a move to close off any space between them, she turned her head quickly so his advance landed on her cheek instead. He may have wanted a kiss on the lips, but he would have to, what were his words? He would have to be pretty lucky to make that mark.  “James,” Lily said in a sugary sweet tone, “I was going to suggest we make a blanket and pillow fort, what kind of woman do you take me for?” She placed her hand over her heart to complete the dramatic remark. 
Lily watched as about a dozen different emotions flashed across his face in only a matter of seconds before settling on something a bit more guarded. “I am so sorry if I have dishonored you. I thought I was fulfilling your wishes. I hope you do go easy on me.” 
He knew just what heart strings he was tugging on, but Lily was not going to dwell on that or her plan would completely crumble. “Yeah, okay, Mr. Darcy, now go get changed. Also while you’re up there, can you look through the box in our room for extra blankets?” James flashed his signature sideways grin at her, back to his normal self. 
“As you wish.” James swept into a deep bow before turning and heading up the stairs towards their bedroom. 
“That’s from The Princess Bride!” Lily called after him. Though he was already in their bedroom, she still heard his laughter carry down the stairs. She smiled to herself, wondering how she ever got so lucky to have James as her boyfriend. Not that she would ever say that aloud. He doesn’t need a bigger head. While he was preoccupied, she busied herself with pulling the cushions off the couch to prepare for the inside of their fortress. Just like when she was a kid. Grabbing her wand off the coffee table beside the sofa, Lily shot a couple sparks into the fireplace: a skill she didn’t have as a kid. She tucked it into her hair for easy access, just in case she would need it inside the fort. 
The thud thud thud thud of James bounding down the stairs caught her off guard. She popped her head up, squealing at the sight of him. James’s tower of blankets peaked over his head. Only his fleece pajama bottoms from Euphemia distinguished him as a human as opposed to a blanket monster. 
“How many blankets does a full grown woman need?” She could hear the jest in his tone. He then unceremoniously dropped the blankets into a pile on the now cushionless sofa. 
“I get cold.” Lily rubbed her hands together in excitement, overlooking their supplies. 
“Yeah well, considering the circumstances I don’t think you’ll need this many blankets. I am the human equivalent of a heater.” That pulled her away from her plans for a moment, looking up at him with glee on her face. 
“Maybe, if you’re lucky tonight,” she repeated the phrase from earlier, quirking one eyebrow at him. 
“With the amount of blankets you have, my deer,  you may need to be the lucky one. I’ll be just fine.” Lily rolled her eyes at the wink he sent her way, and took his hand so he could stand next to her and overlook their supplies together.  How his arm made its way around her waist, she wasn’t quite sure. Lily gave in just a bit, leaning into his side. 
After a moment of reflection, Lily set to work by draping blankets over the sofa to build the foundation of the external walls. James quickly followed suit. 
“Hey, love, can you get the chairs from the dining room?” She pointed, scratching her head as she built the pillow fort in her mind. Something was missing, but she couldn’t place her finger on what exactly. 
“Of course, Master Lily.” James made to bow again, so Lily threw a cushion at his head. Which he promptly caught before dropping it and leaving the room with way too much of a skip in his step. Damn those Quidditch reflexes. 
James brought in the first two chairs, acting as if he was returning from some great battle with his pride in holding one on either side of him. Pretending she didn’t notice her show-off of a boyfriend, Lily kept focused on the sheets. Only when he returned and set down the last two chairs did she look up. 
“What’s next, my princess?”
“It’s queen, actually.” The smile he shot her was bright enough to light up the whole planet, completely and utterly blinding. Queen. She and Petunia would pretend their pillow forts were castles. Her smile turned bittersweet, to which James scrambled to sit beside her. 
Lily blinked at his gesture. Poor James was all worried over nothing. Sitting up a little straighter, Lily took his hands in her own. “James, have I ever told you about what me and Tuney would do on rainy days?” James shook his head. She took a deep breath and continued on. 
“Before I knew about magic, Tuney and I were best friends. I’m pretty sure I mentioned that?” She looked at him for affirmation. He nodded his head. “When it was storming bad, I’d always get a little bit scared, but Tuney always knew that getting my hands busy would keep my mind off what was raging on outside. She would run and grab all the extra blankets and sheets from our linen closet and we would build fortressesses.
“At first, they were small, but as we grew they would take over the entire living room. We would spend most of the day constructing them.” Lily laughed, looking around their new living room. It seemed such a tall order now. “Building the walls with different sheets and blankets, padding the inside with sofa cushions and pillows. Then when we were done, we liked to pretend they were our castles and we were princesses like from the fairytales. I would always bring our favorite stories in and she would create magical worlds filled with every creature imaginable. I would completely forget about the storm raging around us. Eventually as it got later, my mum and dad joined us, and would take over the storytelling. We would end up camping out in the living room, falling asleep after cuddles and bedtime stories. Sometimes Dad would wake us up with cinnamon hot cocoa.” A quiet laugh escaped through her lips. “It’s funny, I was scared, but these are some of my fondest memories.”
Lily looked up from her lap a little misty eyed, that same bittersweet look from before gracing her features. James leaned over to kiss the one tear that slipped down her cheek away. She pulled him closer into a tight hug. Although claps of thunder sounded outside, she didn’t even feel him flinch. 
As the silence settled James blurted out,“Have I ever mentioned I love you?” Lily rolled her eyes in exasperation. What a sap, right? She kissed his cheek and pulled him up from the floor. 
“Hmmm….I don't recall. It doesn’t sound familiar. What was it again?” Lily’s eyes crinkled as he tackled her with a bunch of kisses all over her face.Catching herself with one hand, the other landed on his chest, and she gave him a gentle push to create more space between them, much to the disappointment of both parties, so that they could return their focus to the task at hand.
“Hey, I’d say you’re thoroughly distracted, but this fort still needs some work, so get back to it!” 
James stood at attention and saluted. The two lovebirds began setting the chairs a good distance apart, smiles blossomed on their faces as they worked in comfortable silence. They graduated to padding the inside with the cushions. As they were nearing the end, the draped blankets just weren't staying in place like they should. They kept slipping down from where they hung them. It hit her like a ton of bricks: she'd forgotten the most important part!
“Hold up!” She darted towards the stairs, the biggest, goofiest grin on her face. James was left to catch the end of the blanket she’d dropped when she left. “I know just what we need to finish this off!” 
 Lily raced up the stairs, towards the bedroom, on a mission to acquire her secret ingredient. The mahogany nightstand’s top drawer had been claimed as their junk drawer, slowly filling up with odds and ends from both Lily and James over time. During this move, the junk seemed to accumulate much faster. She tugged open the drawer harshly, excited to get back to her project with James when she spotted it. A little blue velvet box. 
Her breath hitched. What was this doing in the junk drawer? If Lily’s heart hammered any faster she was afraid it was going to explode. Now she needed the distraction. She reached a shaky hand out and grabbed the box. Why was this in the junk drawer? 
This better not be what she thought it was. 
Still debating if she should open it or not, she jumped at the sound of James’s voice. It was incomprehensible over the blood pumping in her ears. 
“What?” She didn’t turn around, focusing on the feeling of the velvet box moving between her fingers. Why was this in the junk drawer? 
“Lils? Are you okay? I thought you knew what you were grabbing, want me to come up and help you find it?” 
“No!” she yelped, far too fast of a response. Far too panicked. Just as she heard James scramble up to check on her, she spotted the barrettes, snagged them before racing down to see her boyfriend before he could find her at the junk drawer. 
Why would you put a ring box in the junk drawer? 
“Hi,” she breathed, moving to wave her hand but realizing she was still holding the box! She smiled sheepishly, quickly hiding the box behind her back. 
“Hey…” James narrowed, his eyes, leaning to the side to try and see just what Lily was holding. 
“Found the barrettes,” she said, holding up her other hand. Like a magician, the idea of distraction would work.. Right? Lily laid the hand with the barrettes on his shoulder, giving him a nudge to turn around and move towards the living room again. 
Another thunderclap and this time he truly has no reaction at all. Well at least she managed to keep his mind off the storm. Lily tried for a reassuring smile, giving his shoulder another nudge. He was silent, but he actually turned around and went down the stairs.
Said silence lasted a lifetime. Finally, he whipped around with a blazing look in his eyes. She was not off the hook. Perhaps if she decided to start the conversation, she could gauge his reaction. 
“Funny story...So I found the strangest thing while looking for my barrettes upstairs…” Lily unfolded her hand to show him the small velvet box. “Any idea why this was in the junk drawer?” 
The color drained from James’s face as he realized what she’d discovered. Lily could practically hear his internal monologue.
 Okay so I have two options here: pretend I have no idea what she is talking about, or fess up. Though the former is looking more appealing at the moment because she does not seem happy. Oh god. What if she isn’t happy? What if she doesn’t want to marry me? What if- 
“James, do you not plan to use this?” She decided to go easy on him seeing the doubt and fear creep into his face. He really was an open book, at least to her. The longer they were together, the more fluent in James Potter she became. 
“I-uh planned to use it eventually?” 
“It was in our junk drawer,” Lily deadpanned.  
 “I was kinda hoping it would get buried and you wouldn’t notice…” His hand flew up to his hair in an attempt to subdue the wince creeping onto his features. 
“How long have you had this, James?” Instead of looking at him, she was entirely focused on the blue box. She hadn’t even opened it yet.  
“Uh.. Do you want the truth? Or like an answer that will make you comfortable?” His hand still had yet to leave his locks alone. 
Despite the whirlwind inside her, Lily managed to choke out a laugh, dragging his hand from his hair and into her own.
“The truth, please.” 
“So you remember that time you came over and met my parents for the first time?” Lily nodded. Of course. She’d been so nervous, and Euphemia and Fleamont had treated her as if she was the daughter they’d never had. “Christmas break, seventh year?” A smile tugged at Lily’s cheeks. 
“You made me cookies the muggle way and burnt them to a crisp. I remember.” James let out a little chuckle.
“Well Mum loved you, and after you left she told me, ‘You better marry that girl James,’ and gave me the ring.” He took the box from her still outstretched hand, hesitating for just a moment before kneeling in front of her. Inside the box was an ornate ring, with a gold band and emeralds instead of diamonds.
“Lily, I knew from the moment I met you that you were it for me. Although, it was nice to hear Mum felt similarly. This was my grandmum’s engagement ring; her and my grandfather were married for seventy-six years. Mum said it would bring us good luck, and really, what I was trying to get at before I got side tracked with the ring’s history is...You have bewitched me body and soul. You are the greatest adventure I’ve had thus far, and I do not wish for it to end.” 
Lily dropped the barrettes she had been gripping so tightly,  covering her mouth with her hand as she felt the prickle of wetness start to form in her eyes. 
“I love you. I want to wake up next to you every morning and kiss you goodnight-if I’m lucky-every evening. I want this to be only the first of the many, many places we live together. I want to travel the world with you. I want to win this war with you by my side. I want to explore new places, new things with you, only with you. 
I want to start a family with you. I want to grow old with you. I want to live every waking moment with you by my side. And it would be the greatest honour of my life, if you, Lily Marie Evans, would agree to be my wife. ” 
Lily’s lips quivered, tears slipping down her cheeks as she looked down at him. She slipped down to his level and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Yes,” she breathed. “Yes, yes, a hundred million times, yes. James Potter, I want to marry you.” 
James stood, his arms snaking around Lily’s waist and spinning her with him, snug against his chest. Lily squealed, hugging James tighter, as her tears turned into laughter. He spun her around and around until they both were dizzy. When he eventually placed her back on the ground, Lily refused to let go. Whether it was due to affection or the room spinning was still up in the air. All she knew was she’d never felt this way before. Never in her life had Lily experienced this much joy, this much peace. Not even those nights camping in her living room. He was her home, and she his.  
James stared down at his fiancée-his fiancée!-  in total adoration. His thumb rubbed along her cheek in a tender caress. 
“I feel pretty lucky tonight, James.”  He smirked, and pressed his lips to hers briefly. Lily met his eyes, glancing towards the ring box to which he happily slid the ring onto her finger.
“Have I ever mentioned I love you?” Lily whispered, a smile far too similar to James’s signature lopsided grin toying on her lips. 
“Hmmm….I don't recall. It doesn’t sound familiar. What was it again?” Lily threw her head back in laughter, pulling him in close for a passionate kiss. Only when they both were breathless did she pull away. “Why don’t we make good use of that fort we built?” 
His lips brushed against hers ever so slightly. “I suppose I do feel lucky.” 
Lily and James disappeared behind the entrance to their dilapidating castle, the barrettes lay on the ground forgotten. 
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mermaidxatxheart · 5 years
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Here in Your Arms
A/N: I know it’s been a long, long time since I’ve posted anything of my own. I’ve been writing, just collecting them. A part of me worries that they’re not good enough, but another part is just so damn tired from work that I literally don’t want to do anything. So, if you’re still following me, and still reading my stuff, I really appreciate you-you have no idea how much that means to me. And if you’re still reading, please comment or message me and just let me know what you think of it. That goes a long way to restore my mental health. 
Also, this story is loosely based/inspired by the song Here in Your Arms by HelloGoodbye. if you haven’t heard it, you should.
Pairing: Bucky x reader
Summary: The weekly dance at the town hall has arrived and Bucky is desperate for another chance to dance with you. (1940′s Bucky because I was in a mood that day.)
Word Count: 1667
Warnings: a small amount of mild violence and some drunkenness, maaaaaaybe language but I don’t think there’s anything too terrible.
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Here in Your Arms
“Come on, dance with me.” Bucky pleads, that boyish grin tugging at his perfect mouth. 
 “I’ve already danced with you, Bucky. You’re not next on my dance card. And you’re not the guy after that or the guy after that.” You laugh, pushing his arm away.
 “How many guys are on that thing?” He asks in mock offense.
 “A lot, I’m a fantastic dancer, I’ll have you know.” You raise your chin, sticking your nose in the air.
 “Oh, come on, doll. I can’t go home tonight knowing I only had one dance with you.” He sighs, running a hand through his messy hair. 
 The song changes into something soft and slow, one of your favorites. The trumpet plays softly through the chords, and you would love to take him up on his offer, but your card is full and he already had his turn. 
You can see the boy behind him, trying to edge his way in front of the big man, glasses tilting crooked on his nose, face red and pockmarked. He’s scrawny and uncoordinated and you just know he’s going to step on your toes, but it wouldn’t be fair.
 “Sorry, Buck.” You tell him, stepping around his outstretched hand. “Maybe I’ll save the last one for you if you’re lucky.” You grin with a cheeky wink. He places his big hand over his heart, closing his eyes as though you’ve wounded him. 
 “I’m counting on it, doll.” He says in your ear as you pass.
 You were right, he steps on your toes with every move. His hands sit awkwardly on your waist as if he’s afraid to get too close. The nervous, sweaty heat of them leaks through your clothes and it’s uncomfortable, but he’s sweet. 
 You try to make conversation, but it’s too loud without having to scream over the band.
 “That’s no way to dance with a woman.” A rough voice says in your ear, and pushing your partner away. You glare up at the intruder to see Brock Rumlow, resident jerk. 
 He grabs your wrist and yanks you roughly into his chest. You push back away from him, trying to free yourself from his handsy grasp. 
 “Let me go, Brock!” You shout, trying to twist your hand out of his.
 “I’ll show you how to dance with a woman, you little punk.” He smirks, pulling you off balance and against him. 
 “I really think you should let her go, Rumlow.” A familiar voice says to your right. You look up to see Bucky’s best friend, Steve, followed closely by a few of their other friends. 
 “Oh yeah, Rogers? And what do you plan on doing about it?” Rumlow snarls.
 “Kicking your ass, for a start.” Bucky says on your left. 
 Rumlow twists, pulling you off balance again and you nearly fall into Bucky. “Barnes.” He mutters.
 Bucky makes a face and cringes back. “You’re drunk, Brock. Let the lady go, and find somewhere to sleep it off. You’re outnumbered and, more importantly, outmatched here. Do the smart thing.” He crosses his impressive arms as Brock glowers before throwing your wrist at Bucky, flinging it away from him roughly. 
 Bucky catches it in his ever-gentle hands before it hits him in the face and waits as his school rival stalks away through the crowd. He presses a soft kiss to the inside of your wrist and your face flushes brilliantly. 
 “Finish your dance, doll.” He says, turning you back to the scrawny man. He steps towards your partner, who visibly winces as if he’s expecting to be hit. 
 Bucky simply whispers something in his ear before he leaves, Steve and crew following. Your partner steps forward, hand snaking further around your waist, holding you closer.
 He still steps on your toes, but it feels slightly less like grade-schoolers dancing and more like a pair of adults. 
 The song ends and you step apart. You smile at him and kiss his cheek. “Thanks for the dance.”
 You turn away to walk off the dance floor but not before you see him smile and blush. You set your card on the punch table and head for the door to pick up your coat. 
 “Leaving already?” Bucky asks from behind you. 
 “Not in the mood for the crowd anymore. It’s been spoiled.” You take your coat off the hanger and he removes it from your hand.
 “How’s your wrist?” He asks, turning you so your back is to him.
 “Won’t have to cut it off any time soon, if that’s what you’re asking.” You grin as you slide your arms into the sleeves.
 “Oh, that’s good. I like it where it is.” He chuckles. You turn back to see his friends with him. “Mind if we walk you home?” He asks, suddenly seeming a little nervous.
 “I was actually hoping you would. I’m sure Brock is nearby and now he’s in a mood for a fight.”
 Bucky grumbles, pulling on his own jacket. “I hate that guy.”
 Steve opens the door to the hall for you and you smile up at him. “Thanks, Stevie.” 
 You walk down the front steps and Bucky wraps his arm around your shoulders, holding you close against the cold winter air. 
 You were right to have them walk you home. Brock is waiting down the block, sour and pissed. 
 “Hey, Barnes!” He calls, pushing himself out of the alleyway shadows. 
 Bucky groans quietly. You can feel it rumble in his chest. “Go home, Rumlow.” He says, quickening his pace slightly. 
 “I’m waiting for that ass-kicking you were promising. Or are you too much of a coward?” He taunts.
 You feel Bucky pause and you grab his hand. “He’s drunk and he has a big mouth. He’s goading you.” You warn and he looks down at you, a spark in his eyes.
 “Don’t I know it.” He mutters.
 “Maybe your whore over there would be better off with a real man! I have a few back at my place, we can pass her around and see who she likes best.” 
 You whirl around and lunge at him, ready to slap him, but arms wrap around your waist, holding you back. It takes you a second too long to realize that it can’t be Bucky, he’s already halfway to the drunk man. You glance back and realize it’s Steve.
 “Let me go.”
 “Let Bucky handle this.”
 “You wanna say that again? Say it to my face.” Bucky growls.
 “Your whore-“ Rumlow starts and Bucky’s fist swings lightning fast. It collides with Rumlow’s jaw, sending him staggering back a few steps. He collapses on the ground, off-balance and so very drunk.
 “If you ever insult her again, I’ll kill you. Understand me? Stay away from her.” He spits, kicking him hard and sending him rolling into the gutter.
 Steve relaxes his grip on you and you roll your eyes. “I could have taken him.” You mutter as Bucky reaches you. 
 “Of that, I have no doubt, doll.” He grins. You don’t miss the way he stuffs his hand into his pocket, pulling you close with the other.
 “What was your plan, if I might ask?” Steve looks at you.
 “Same as Bucky.” You shrug and Steve grins.
 “Maybe I should have let her. That would have been a sight to behold.”
 Bucky shoves him, but this is playful-joking between friends.
 You reach your front door and you turn to Bucky. “Can I talk to you for a little bit? Or do you boys have plans?”
 “I can come inside.” He says, his voice lifting a little in his eagerness to say yes.
 You grin to yourself and unlock the door as he shoos his friends away. You shrug out of your coat, hanging it up and kicking off your heels with the toes.
 “Want a drink?” You ask, watching not so subtly as he peels off his coat.
 “No, thanks. Was there anything, in particular, you wanted to talk about? Or are you just eager to get to know me that well?”
 “I owe you my last dance. And I figure since you saved me twice, I could at least keep my word.” You say, feeling nervous all of a sudden.
 “Won’t your parents be mad when they come home to find me here so late?” He asks.
 “Nancy and Joseph are out of town for Christmas. I couldn’t go, so I have the place to myself. You can stay as long as you want.” You tell him, your heart pounding nervously at the words. You mean them, you want him to stay, but you aren’t even a couple. 
 “Alright.” He smiles softly, pulling off his shoes. “Can I use your bathroom?” He asks.
 “Just down the hall.” You point and he steps in that direction. 
 You move through the parlor into the living room and you turn on the white Christmas lights on the tree. You dim the rest of the lights in the room so you’re left with the soft glow from the tree. You move the furniture out of the way and turn on the radio, softly playing Glenn Miller. 
 You close your eyes, letting the music move your body. You sway back and forth, your hands aloft as though you’re holding onto a partner.
 And then all of a sudden, he’s there, filling your arms. You feel more solid with him so close, safe and warm in his arms. You start in surprise at first, your eyes opening as you look up to see his face, his beautiful smile looking down at you. 
 You shift, your hands intertwining and held close to your bodies, your head against his chest and his mouth resting on the top of your head.
 He holds you close for a long time, just moving to the music before he finally speaks.
 “I like it here, in your arms.” He says softly.
 You smile into his shirt. “Funny, I was just thinking the same thing.”
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Baby, It’s Cold Outside (Next Chapter)
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155 notes · View notes
ajokeformur-ray · 4 years
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For the match up, I’m about 5’2 with brown hair and blue eyes. I like to write and sing, and I’m currently in school studying for a psychology degree. I love to help people, and I like to think that I’m kind and considerate of others. As for my work, I’m currently employed at McDonald’s (which is the absolute worst), and I freaking love Disney. Anything Disney related, I am there for. I’m also kinda shy around others, but if you’re willing to listen, I’ll talk your ear off.
Arthur // word count: 952
You’re 5′2 and Arthur is 5′8. This means several things: he is going to make short jokes so often you end up rolling your eyes with a fond smile on your face; he is going to rest his chin on the crown of your head when you’re hugging, his nose buried in your hair so that he can just take all of in and know that you’re real and alive and here. It also means that he’s going to be very protective of you, almost overly so, because you’re small which means you’re more vulnerable and he gets to really be someone worthy of protecting another person. It can come across as annoying sometimes, especially when he wants to know who that person was that you waved at in the street, but it comes from a huge place of love. Once, he stopped dead in the doorway when he saw you standing on a rickety old chair in the kitchen that was way past its prime. His heart pounding, he came up behind you and swooped you into his arms, taking you off the chair. He pulled you in and out for a spin, dancing with you, to disguise the way his heart was pounding but the way his eyes were blown wide with panic gave him away. Do him a favour and kiss him until he’s calm, please. You nearly gave the poor man a heart attack. He later went and fetched whatever you were after, thoughts of him coming into the kitchen to see you battered and bruised filling his mind and almost triggering a laughing fit. To this day he swears he’s never felt so scared in his life.
You’re creative and I feel like Arthur would sometimes run jokes by you, a pen between his teeth and a cigarette in his hand while he reads out the jokes; watching you carefully just to see your reactions. It’s the punchlines that he agonises over; and if you don’t react exactly as he wants you to - full bodied laughter because he adores that sound coming from you, it’s like music to his ears and he never wants to go even five minutes without it - then he’d think the punchline wrong and he’d fiercely scribble it out, mumbling to himself as he rethinks it again and again and - 
You’re studying for a psychology degree and Arthur is so proud of you. He’s your biggest supporter and there’s nothing he wouldn’t do to show you that. He would be the most ideal motivator going, and he never had the chance to get any serious education, having left when he was in tenth grade, and so for you he would want you to do your best so that you can have a more comfortable future than the one he can offer you. There are definite insecurities that rear their ugly heads here, but he pushes them down, pushes them back. He doesn’t want to damage your thoughts of him, he doesn’t want to give you a reason to leave him (the silly man never quite manages to understand that you’re not ever going to leave him). 
You’re kind and you work hard and you help people and this is probably how you met Arthur. He was jumped by some kids and you rushed to his aid, helping him up. You took him to his workplace and explained what happened, you took him back to his place and patched him up. You were strangers but that day was a seed of love planted deep within your minds. It grew quickly, naturally with little to no effort on your part, and before you knew it, the man you knew was Carnival and Arthur and then he was Joker and you knew that you were ruined for any other man for the rest of your life. You couldn’t complain, though, not when you were loved so hard that Arthur could cry just from looking at you.
Coming home to you already in his apartment, wrapped up in blankets with your favourite drink beside you on the coffee table and a mug of tea already made for Arthur (the loud noises of the lift down the hallway always announced his arrival for you so that you could get ready to greet him; it took Arthur months to figure out how you always seemed to know that he was on the way home and when he did figure it out, he started taking the stairs sometimes just so he could surprise you) watching a Disney film is the best part of Arthur’s day and he always flicks the lights off on his way to you, toeing his shoes off, shrugging his yellow hoodie off and letting it hit the ground without a care, and throwing himself down beside you. If you’re a hugger, then you’re in his arms immediately. And if not, then you settle into your own ways of showing affection and he melts into it.
You’re both kinda shy so this relationship was the slow burn to end all slow burns. But Arthur was fixated on you, his eyes never straying from your face, and you fell into the pattern of talking to him. Sometimes when the voices in his head are too loud, Arthur asks you to talk. To just talk. He doesn’t care about what, he just wants to hear your voice. With his head on your chest so he can hear your heartbeat, your fingers in his hair and your voice, your scent, your touch surrounding him, his worries and stresses melt away like ice in the sun; remnants remain but they’re lessened by your presence in his harsh life.
Joker // word count: 1, 129.
Contains some violence, mentions of sexual teasing (no details, it’s literally just a mention).
Joker wouldn’t crack short jokes but he’d definitely use nicknames which allude to your height; ‘short stack’, ‘short stuff’, ‘short cake’, ‘baby doll’ are just some of the few he’ll use. He keeps your personal boundaries and limits in mind, though, and he knows what is and isn’t okay. Just like Arthur (the man he is at his core didn’t change), he would have a heart attack if he ever walked in on you climbing on furniture trying to reach something. “I know you said you’ve fallen for me, doll,” hands grab your waist and with surprising strength does he lift you off the chair and into his arms, “But I would appreciate it if you didn’t try to re-enact it. Feet on the ground, okay?” The way he’s hugging you means you can feel his heart pounding against your chest and you almost feel guilty. Almost. From that point on does he resume his old habit of always getting things down for you; there’s room for sexual teasing here if you’re into that. He’ll be even more protective of you than Arthur, though this has less to do with your height and perceived increased vulnerability and more to do with the fact that he’s someone now (though he was always someone that you noticed, no one else ever did), a man with enemies. He has to protect you now, because if he lost you then he truly will have lost everything and if you think he’s dangerous now then he would be even more so without you keeping him where he is. If anyone ever found out about you and tried to hurt you, well… there wouldn’t even be any teeth left for them to be identified with. The one who dares in this instance doesn’t win and all of Gotham would know that they tried to hurt Joker’s only ace.
You’re creative and between your singing and Joker’s dancing, why, you have a performance! You come home sometimes from a long day of studying and working and you’ll see Joker dancing to the natural music inside his soul, his body moving with such graceful yet somehow stilted movements as he pushes through the air like it’s water; the music something you can’t hear but you can feel it. In these moments are you closer to who Joker is at his core. Similarly, whether you’re shy or not about singing in front of other people, Joker would sincerely compliment you each and every time he hears you and he’s not satisfied until you’re blushing and stammering out a thank you - if you aren’t barely able to speak then Joker didn’t say the right thing and he’s gotta try again and again until you are. Let him have his games; you have your own to play.
While Joker is supportive of your studies, he cares more about the feelings you get from a good grade, from a successfully completed assignment, than he does from the fact that you’re actually completing a degree. As such, he wouldn’t be as supportive as Arthur was, but he would care more about your personal feelings and he’d be the biggest enabler for not doing work. Where Arthur would tell you to take breaks, to make sure you eat something, and he’d reward you with cuddles and hugs and kisses (if you’re into that), Joker would shrug and tell you that you don’t have to work if you don’t want to. Sometimes it’s better to just not work. Still, when it’s serious and you’re stressing over an assignment, he makes a game out of it: one paragraph of your assignment is one kiss which leaves your toes curling in your socks. And when you finish that draft, well… you’re smart enough to know how this game is played (if you’re not into that then there’s definitely another treasured reward of yours which he uses to get you to do the work; the quicker you’re done, the more time Joker gets your undivided attention for).
As far as Joker is concerned, you’re the only good thing left in the world. You’re kind and considerate and you help people. You’re a ray of sunshine in the rainy, stormy and gritty city of Gotham and Joker is very protective of you. Very. He’s got power over his situation and his circumstances now and like I said, he’s the biggest enabler, so if you wanted to quit your job and let Joker provide for you, then that’s what he would encourage; truthfully, he’d want you to rely wholly on him so that he can treat you like the member of royalty that you are. He’s a busy man so knowing that you’re gonna be waiting for him at home just fills him with so much love and it motivates his own work ethic. Whereas he used to live to work, now it’s the other way around and he works so that he can live a full life with you and treat you the way you deserve to be. 
You love anything Disney and so when Joker has cracked one too many height jokes or he was out for just a bit longer than he promised (read: he said he would be back by midnight but he didn’t come home until 4 AM leaving you panicking on the bathroom floor because this is the 80s so there was no way for you to contact him and what if he’s hurt or dead), he would gift you with that latest merch that you’ve been eyeing - don’t ask how he got his hands on it, don’t ask where he got it from and don’t pay attention to that stray red fleck on his waistcoat. Just say thank you and kiss him so hard that he doesn’t notice that tear slide down your cheek. 
Joker finds your shyness adorable. He loves nothing more than seeing if he can make you blush as deep a red as his suit and sometimes he holds up his sleeve to your face and compares the colours as easily as one chooses a paint for the living room by looking at swatches. He’d grin smugly each and every time it only makes you blush deeper. “That’s an interesting shade of red on you... I wonder what else can make you blush so prettily?”. He loves listening to you talk, too. Coming home to you in the way that he used to is still the most soothing thing he can think of and he loves nothing more than knowing that you still love him, that you’re still there for him. Joker never forgets devotion like that and he’s content to spend the rest of your lives together showing you how grateful he is that you’re staying.
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vernonfielding · 4 years
Text
Ain’t no one that can touch me
Story No. 7 of my Season 7 Countdown Project.
Summary: “I actually feel like I need a little bit more time to readjust.”
Jake meets Enigma. Takes place at the end of Kicks. (Read on AO3.)
Gina can see through the peephole that Jake is Not Okay, but when she swings the door open she says, “Girl, you can’t just show up unannounced when someone’s just had a baby” as she waves him inside. Jake ducks his head, sheepish, and alarms are going off in Gina’s head because Jake does not do sheepish.
She heads back to her couch, which has basically become her bed and her dining table and her kitchen and her entire friggin’ life over the past nine days. Enigma’s already fussing in her arms, rooting around for a boob, and Gina reaches for the leopard-print nursing shawl Terry and Sharon got her – it was a registry item, but she was still pleasantly surprised – as she settles back down into her nest of blankets and pillows. Jake’s hovering at the edge of the living room, eyes all over the place except on the baby. But he must sense Gina watching him because he looks up just as she’s pulling up her sweatshirt and drawing the baby to her breast.
“Gina!”
“It’s called feeding my baby, loser. Sit down and get over yourself,” she says, and drapes the shawl like a curtain over her chest.
Jake hasn’t been to see her since the baby was born, and honestly, Gina gets it. She saw him, briefly, the day he got home – long enough to hold him too-tight against her enormous belly and stroke a hand through his greasy hair and tell him his beard was gross but weirdly hot at the same time – and then later that night she went into labor. Anyway, she knows he’s had a lot on his mind. And it’s not like Enigma is remotely interesting at this point. Jake could probably wait a year or two to meet her and it wouldn’t make any difference to anyone.
Still – Jake is literally her oldest friend, he’s basically a brother, and Gina literally just experienced the miracle of birth and nearly died doing it because Jesus Christ, that shit is no joke. She realizes, now that he’s sitting across from her, perched on the edge of the armchair like he’s ready to bolt any second, that she needs him to meet her kid. And also, Jake needs it too. He looks like crap, all droopy-eyed and droopy-haired and frowning.
“Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” Gina says. She winces as Enigma clamps down rather harder than necessary. The baby took to nursing like a champ, and Gina’s nipples are having a hard time keeping up.
Jake rubs the back of his neck and Gina knows it’s bad. “I, uh. Had kind of a rough day.”
Gina nods and doesn’t press it. Everyone’s been keeping her up on the work gossip. She knows he’s two days back and already assigned himself desk duty.
“Where’s, uh-” Jake hesitates, looks around the living room.
“Milton’s helping dig wells or something in Northern Canada,” Gina says.
“He’s- wells?”
“Or something.”
“Cool cool cool cool.” Jake finally looks back at her, gaze dropping to the bulge of baby under her shawl and not meeting her eyes. “Are you okay, on your own? I mean, you have a baby.”
“Good detecting, detective,” Gina says, catching the flash of a smile, there and gone, on Jake’s face. “Nah, Iggy and I are good. Honestly, all we do right now is eat and sleep and shit – and I mean we, as in both of us. I’ve got my bodega guy leaving food at the door every other day so I don’t even have to put on pants.”
“And yet, here you are, all pantsed up,” Jake says, nodding to her sweats-clad legs.
“It’s like I knew you were coming,” Gina says, and there’s that split-second smile again.
Gina realizes the baby’s stopped eating, is now just nuzzling at her boob, so she pulls her off and burps her, already economical in her movements, passing this tiny creature from one arm to the other and throwing her over her shoulder like a sack of (tiny, precious) potatoes. She can tell Jake is deliberately looking away, though she’s not entirely sure why.
“C’mon,” she says, pushing herself up off the couch with a heartfelt groan.
Jake gets up, fluid and graceful like he’s trying to annoy her. “Where are we going?”
“The nursery. You’re changing a diaper.”
+++
Jake sputters behind her down the short hall to the baby’s room, which of course is just Gina’s room but with a bassinet on one side of the bed. Almost all of the baby furniture and supplies are stacked up against a wall, still in their boxes. So far they haven’t needed them and Gina hates putting together furniture, it’s so menial and she’s bad at it and she hates being bad at things.
She kneels and lays the baby on the changing pad spread out on the floor, and motions for Jake to join her.
“I don’t-”
“Quiet. I’ll walk you through it,” Gina says, and she does.
She unwraps the blanket that’s bound loosely around the baby, then tells Jake to unsnap the crotch of the onesie – “Are you allowed to say ‘crotch’ about a baby?” Jake says, and she tells him that her child will only be taught the appropriate words, no dumbass made-up ones – and gather the baby’s ankles in one hand and lift.
She hands him a fresh diaper to slide under the old one, then passes him the wipes, one at a time, and reminds him to be thorough. She tells him to make sure the new diaper is nice and secure, tighter than he’d think it should be, because the last thing anyone wants is a blowout. When he’s finished snapping the onesie back in place he looks up at her, wide-eyed and triumphant, and she grins at him and says, “You did it, kiddo.”
She wraps up Iggy in her swaddling blanket again and leans against the end of the bed, and Jake gets up and hands her pillows and grabs one for himself, and they make themselves comfortable, right there on the floor. When Jake’s settled, she hands him the baby and he gets real close to her, makes Jake-faces at her – scrunched up eyebrows, tongue sticking out all askew – while Iggy blinks up at him slow and milk-groggy.
Gina tells him about the birth, about how brave and amazing she was. “You have no idea, Jacob,” she says, and he nods and says, “John McClane should’ve been a woman” and it’s true, he should have.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” Jake says, tucking the blanket back around the baby’s feet where she’s managed to kick herself free. He’s sitting cross-legged and he’s kicked off his shoes. His socks aren’t matching.
Gina doesn’t know what he’s referring to but she doesn’t think it’s the birth, because obviously he wasn’t expected there. She says, “It’s cool, boo,” and she means, ‘It’s not your fault,’ because duh.
They talk about Previous Babies They Have Known, which includes the kids Gina used to babysit when they were freshmen and sophomores in high school and Jake would sometimes come over and not-help. From there it’s an easy segue to reminiscing about their shared childhood, and when Iggy starts fussing and Gina takes her back to nurse again, Jake doesn’t looked panicked this time, just stretches his legs out in front of him and curls his toes.
Gina passes the baby back when she’s done, and she drapes a burp cloth over Jake’s shoulder and shifts Iggy so she’s sitting up in Jake’s arms, curled up into his chest. She coaches Jake on burping – to use the ball of his hand, to hit her harder than he thinks he should because she’s not as fragile as she looks.
“She’s resilient,” Gina says, enunciating, and she doesn’t meet Jake’s eyes when he looks up at her.
Jake thwacks her on the back, twice, and Iggy’s burp is loud and meaty, echoing off the bedroom walls. Jake barks a startled laugh and Gina says, “That’s my girl.”
Jake’s still laughing, only when Gina looks back at him, she sees that no, he’s crying now, his hand rubbing slow circles over the baby’s back, his nose pressed into the feathery hair on her head, and his body shaking. His eyes are closed, tears spilling down his cheeks already.
Gina moves to sit beside him, beside her baby who is soft and gentle and smells so nice. She lets Jake have this, for a little while.
End Notes:
Title is from IHOP (Bash Brothers).
I don’t think we know exactly when Gina had her baby, but if my math is correct it must have been sometime just before or just after Jake and Rosa got out of prison (I really, really hope it was after, because the alternative is seriously way too sad).
This story was a way for me to explore two topics: one, Jake’s troubles bouncing back after prison, and two, the first time he meets Enigma. I was hoping to get across that it would be a weird and overwhelming, but hopefully life-affirming, experience for Jake to meet this baby so soon after going through what must have been the darkest time in his life.
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millicent231-watt · 5 years
Text
(Free! Scenario) He Confesses
A/N: Got a request or an idea? Leave it below in the comments!
Y/N = Your name
H/C = Hair Colour
F/C = Favorite Colour
F/B = Favourite Book
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Haru (His POV)
I pull my head out of the pool as my hand hit the wall. "Good job, Haru-chan!" I hear Makoto say to me as he holds his hand out to me. I turn around and continue to swim. I hear him sigh and walk off. Am I really gonna do this? I think to myself before I stop in the middle of the pool. "Huh? Haru?" Makoto asks as a droplet of water falls from my bangs. "Makoto..." I say as I turn to him. "I need your help with something." I say as I push myself out of the pool. "Huh? Sure, let's go back to my house." He says as he hands me a towel. "HAAARUUUU-CHAAAN!" I hear someone yell from the rooftop of the school. I jump and look to see her, waving from the rooftop. I look away and hear Makoto chuckle. "I'm guessing she's what you need help with." He says. I chuck the towel over my head and walk into the locker room, the towel covering some of my face.
Time Skip
"You just need to substitute this number for that." I say as I point out and help Makoto, in return for helping me. "Oh, yeah! I remember learning that!" He says as he finishes it. "So..." He says as he places his pen down and looks at me. "What's up?" He asks and I feel my cheeks heating up just at the thought of her. I quickly look away and he chuckles. "Let me guess, you want help confessing to Y/N-chan, correct?" I nod my head and the room falls silent for a second. "What about a note? I mean, I've heard it's easier to write down your feelings than saying them. " He says and I widen my eyes. Why haven't I thought of that before?! "You should be getting back, it's getting kinda late." I nod and grab my things, walking out the front door with him. "Thank you for your help." I say. "No worries! Let me know what happens." He says and I walk up the stairs to my house. I'll write it today and give it to her tomorrow...no backing out this time.
Time Skip
"HARU-CHAN!" I hear her yell out to me as she runs at me with open arms. She was wearing a sailor swimsuit under her coat. She jumps into a hug and giggles. "Thank you for inviting me to the beach." She says as she lets go. "No problem." She suddenly grabs my arm and looks up at me. "Ne, Haru-chan, let's go swimming!" She says as he eyes sparkle, the exact same way that made me fall for her. "I...I was gonna ask if you wanted to get some ice-cream first..." I say with a blush. "Eh! Really?!" She asks and I nod. "YAY!" She says before pulling me along to the ice-cream vendor. "What would you two like?" the friendly old man asks, and by ‘old man’ I mean he was like 70. "Haru-chan, can I get one of those?!" Y/N asks me and I nod. She giggles as the man hands her the ice-cream. "What about you young man?" He asks and I shake my head. "I don't really want any." I say and he nods. "That'll be $3.00" I hand him the money. I walk Y/N over to a bench on the beach, somewhere that we would be alone. As we walk past a bunch of elderly couples I, and I'm sure Y/N too, could hear them commenting on 'what a cute couple we were'. I glance at the beautiful girl next to me and see her smile with a small blush on her cheeks. "I...it seems as everyone thinks that we're a couple Haru-chan..." She laughs nervously and sits down on the bench. "Y/N." I say as I get the note ready. "Hm? What's this?" She asks as I hand it to her. "Just... read it at home, alright? I have to go now, I promised to help Makoto with Ran and Ren." I say as I stand up. "Ah! Haru!" She says as she grabs my wrist. "Th...thank you for inviting me out here and buying me ice-cream. I'll read your note tonight and talk to you tomorrow at school, I promise." She says and I nod before walking home. I hope you won't hate me afterwards.
Time Skip
I sigh and walk out to the pool. I haven't seen Y/N at all today...I hope I haven't tainted our friendship. I open the door from the change rooms and see Y/N standing at the side of the pool with the note in her hand. She turns her head to me and I hold my breath as the wind blows her beautiful H/C hair back. "Haru...this isn't a joke is it?" She says with sad eyes. I shake my head and face the ground. I hear her school shoes hitting the concrete as she walked closer. But then......she hugs me. "Don't worry me like that, baka! I thought it was something so much more serious!" She pushes off and lifts my head to look at her. "I was wondering why you were ignoring me lately, I thought you found out how I felt. Turns out we felt the same." She says with a soft smile, soft blush and a few tears at the corner of her eyes. Her hands find their way to my cheeks as she cups my face. "I love you, baka." She says, and for the first time in a long time, I smiled. I hug her softly and rest my chin on her head.
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Makoto (Your POV)
"Onee-chan!" Ran and Ren yell as they run up to my legs, hugging them tightly. "Hey, guys." I say with a smile. "Oh, you're here Y/N-chan." I hear my tutor/friend say. "Hello, Mako-chan. Thank you for offering to tutor me." I say with a bow. "No worries, you're too cute to say no to." He says making me blush a little. "Come on, let's go to my room." He says with his famous smile and I blush even more. I'm going into his room?! C...calm down Y/N it's just for tutoring. I follow him upstairs and sit down at his desk. "Can you get your work out while I get some drinks for us?" He asks and I nod, grabbing my (subject you are bad at) work out of my bag. Something catches my attention. A diary? I pick it up and giggle. It's kinda girly...but cute. I think before the door was opened. "Y/N I've got the...what are you doing with that?" He asks and I smirk. "I didn't know you had such a feminine side Mako-chan." I tease. "Where did you find that?!" He asks as he runs towards me to grab it. "Let's see here." I say as I jump up and stand on the chair, out of his reach. I open it and begin reading. "Dear diary, today I saw Y/N again today! She was wearing a(n) F/C bow in her hair, she looked really cute. I know I shouldn't be so happy, I see her every day at school but I can't help it, I...." I freeze up as I read the words 'I love her so much.' Makoto couldn't even think of anything to say. He just stood there stuttering, trying to find something to say. "Makoto..." I say as I look down at him. "I'm sorry Y/N." He says. "C...can you close your eyes for a second?" I ask and he hesitates before closing them. I lean down and quickly place a kiss on his cheek. I pull away as his eyes open in shock. I turn my head and blush. "Y...Y/N wha-" "Tell me sooner next time... I spent months just trying to gather the courage to ask you to tutor me..." I say before he hugs me happily, burrowing his face in my stomach as I stood on the chair. He looks up at me with a smile and a blush. "I've never been so happy about you being nosey!" He says with a laugh and I pat his head with a soft smile. "Makoto...can you say it?" I ask and he picks me up, softly placing me on the ground and kissing my forehead. "I love you Y/N." I smile even wider and rest my head on his chest.
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Nagisa (Your POV)
A/N: This is a little different than the others
Nagisa Hazuki. The bubbly, energetic second-year boy. Also, the boy that continues to randomly say pick-up lines to me. Don't get me wrong, I don't NOT like it but...it's a little embarrassing. "Hey Y/N-chan!" I hear him yell and I turn around only to get a flash in my eyes. "C...can you tell me next time you wanna take a photo of me?" I say and he laughs. "Sorry, I just want to show my mom what my next girlfriend looks like." He says with a wink before running off. I sigh and lean against the wall of the school hall. "I wished you'd just say it already..."
His POV
"Rei-chan! I did it again! I think she liked this one!" I yell as I run up to my friend. "I did the camera one!" I say with a toothy grin. "You should just tell her straight out Nagisa-kun." He says and I shake my head. "I can't! What happens if she rejects me?!" I yell and someone puts their hand on my shoulder. "Just tell her Nagisa. I'm sure it'll be fine." Mako-chan says and I sigh. "I don't want to...I might lose her friendship..." I say as I hang my head, but quickly lift it up as I hear my phone beep. I open up my messages and see one from Y/N.
[Hey. Could we meet at the park tonight after school? I need to talk to you. Y/N]
"S...sorry guys. I have to go!" I text back and close my phone, running home after the bell went a few minutes later.
Your POV
I sigh and wait for Nagisa on the park bench near my house. "You're like my little toe because I'm going to bang you on every piece of furniture in my home." I hear someone whisper in my ear and I jump up in surprise. "N...NAGISA?!" I yell in surprise as he pisses himself laughing. N...not literally! "W...why would you do that? I thought it was some pedophile or something!" I say as I hit his arm. "So...sorry, I couldn't help it!" He says and I sigh. "What's with the sudden sexual pick-up line anywho?" I ask and he blushes. "N...no reason. I just couldn't think of anything else..." He says. I giggle and nod. "Alright, let me try." I say as I think of something before putting my hand on his upper arm. "Are you from China? Cause I'm China fuck." I say with a smirk before I kiss his cheek and remove my hand. "Maybe next time don't say so many pick-up lines unless you want to go out with the person. Love ya babe." I say before I walk back home and leave him there, blushing and confused. I later received a text from him saying:
[W...we're dating now right?☺]
I giggle and text back.
[Yes 💟 and you better fulfil your promise of banging me on every piece of furniture 😉😘 Love ya babe😋]
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Rei (His POV)
I run my finger across the books on the shelf, trying to find my favourite book of ALL TIME. I use the weekend to study and buy some books from the second-hand bookstore. I get to the 'science fiction' area before something catches my eye. I see Y/N standing on her tippy toes, trying to reach a book that was too high for her to reach. I walk over and reach up, grabbing the book and handing it to her. "Thank you. Oh, it's you Ryugazaki-kun." Y/N says. "I didn't expect to see you here, Y/N. What are you doing here?" I ask and she shrugs. "Oh, you know, hunting elephants." She says with a smile. "I'm actually here looking for a book that my friend accidentally spilt tea on. F/B. I really liked it as well." She says with a pout. "Anyway, I thought I might have a look at the other books while I was here. Do you have any suggestions?" She asks and I nod. "Do you have any specific genre of book you like?" I ask and she shrugs. "Not really. Oh, shoot! I forgot I had to meet my mom!" She says as she looks at her phone. "Ryugazaki-kun! Could I come around to your house later and we can continue to talk there? I really gotta go right now, see you later Rei!" She says before running to the cash register, buying the book I handed her and running out the door. Rei? Why did you call me that all of a sudden?
Time Skip
"Rei!" I hear someone say as they run up behind me. "Y/N?" I ask and she smiles while catching her breath. "Hey." She pants. "I didn't know you were gonna be done so fast." I say and she smiles. "I forgot, it's next week." She laughs nervously. "So, let's get going!" She says happily before jumping and hugging my arm tightly. "Wh...what was that?" She asks as she looks into the dark empty street behind us. "I...I don't know." I say as I try to remain as calm as possible. "W...well, I don't feel like sticking around to find out, so can we go to your house please?" She asks desperately as she tugs on my arm. I sigh and nod. "Alright." I say as she begins following closely next to me while I walk home.
"Y/N-CHAN! REI-CHAN!" I hear someone yell and I turn to the voice. "What are you doing out here Nagisa-kun?" I ask as, usually, he has a curfew and bedtime. "I was just going home after a walk. Hey! How about we go home altogether?" He asks. "That could be fun. Let's do it Rei!" Y/N says as she looks at me hopingly. "Oh ho, I didn't know you told her Rei-chan. She must like you too." Nagisa-kun says with a smirk and I feel my face heating up. "I...I don't know what you're talking about." I stutter and Nagisa grabs my arm and mimics Y/N, only slightly differently. "Let's do it Rei! I can't wait anymore. You've made me wait sooooo loooong." I push him off. "Stop that. Y/N would never do such a thing." "Really?" Nagisa-kun says as he points to Y/N. I look down at her and her face was flushed red, her eyes wide open and she was shaking. "Y/N?" I ask. "I...Is that true Rei? Do you l...like me?" She asks and I turn to Nagisa angrily, but he was nodding. He was trying to help me. "Y...yes..." I say sadly, knowing she was going to reject someone like me. "M....me too. I...I likeyouto!" She spits out quickly before hugging me tightly. “I...I like you to...” She says quietly. "See? I told you it would be fine Rei-chan!" Nagisa says with a wink.
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"Brrr, can we go now? I'm freezing out here." Y/N says as she moves up under my arm to get some warmth. "Yeah, you coming?" I ask Nagisa and he nods his head. "Yep!" We quickly make our way to the last train of the night and make our way home. Y/N fell asleep on my shoulder almost as soon as we sat down.
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Rin (Your POV)
"Oi!" I yell out as I see a bunch of older kids picking on a small boy. "Oh, is this your 'mommy'?" They ask the boy. "Y...Y/N, don't." Kou says as I walk up to them and tap their shoulder. They turn around and I land a solid hit right on their 'leaders' nose. "You're gonna pay for that!" The other two yell before charging at me. I quickly dodge and take them down as well. I sigh, dust of my hands and kneel down to the little boy's height. "Are you okay?" I ask with a smile and he nods before hugging me tightly. "Th...thank you..." He stutters and I rub the back of his head. "No problem. Where's your mother?" I ask as I stand up and grab his hand. "I...I don't know..." He whimpers. "Kou, we can't just leave him here." I say as I turn to her, but she was talking to her brother, who had suddenly shown up. He kept making side glances at me but when he realised he was caught he flinched and quickly looked the other way. "Rin." I say as I walk up to them. "O...oh h..hey Y/N..." He stutters and I grab his ear. "You're ears are red Rin." I inform him before he quickly swipes me off and quickly looks away. I feel a tug on my arm and look down. "A...are you gonna help me look for my mama?" The little boy asks sadly. I smile and pick him up. "Yes, can you tell me what she looks like?" I ask and he begins describing his mother. "Oh, I think I saw her ealier." Rin says. "Really?!" The little boy asks happily, earning a nod from the friendly shark. "Well then, lead the way Sharkboy." I tease and her blushes again before flicking my forehead.
Time Skip
"Mama!" The little boy yells out happily as he points this his mother who was looking around the shopping centre for him. She quickly turns her head and gasps before running over to us. "James!" She says happily and I hand him over. "Oh, I was so worried!" She says while kissing his forehead. "Thank you! Thank you so much!" She says to us. I smile and bow. "No worries. He was outside in the alley getting attacked by some high schoolers. Don't worry, they're taken care of." I say and she covers her mouth. "Oh, my poor baby." She says as she hugs her little boy tighter. "Thank you two, again." She says before we wave and turn to walk away. "Onee-san!" The little boy yells out. I turn and see him running up to my leg. "Thank you! Bye bye!" He says and I hug him back. "Bye." I say and he giggles before running back to his mother and grabbing her hand and walking away. "Come on Y/N." Rin says and I run after him. "When's the next swim meet? I was hoping we could go to the new café on the main street." I say and he shrugs. "I don't know but...I think we should stop hanging out." He says and I stop walking. "Why?" I ask as my heart cracks. He just hides his face from my sight. I sigh and clench my fists. "This isn't fair...I didn't even tell you yet and you're throwing me away." I say. "I'm not throwing you away I just...I..." I look up at him and see his sad face. "You are...if you're gonna throw me away, at least let me do one more thing." I say and he nods. I quickly walk towards him and grab his face before kissing him, feeling tears run down my cheeks. I jump and pull away in surprise as he wraps his arms around me. "Wha...what are you doing?" I ask as he holds me close. "Taking back what I said." He says. "I didn't think you liked me back and I couldn't take it anymore, so it was selfish of me to decide that for the both of us." I smile and hug him back. "I love you too Rin." I say giggling at his blushing face.
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Sousuke (His POV)
"Sousuke!" I hear her yell out, causing me to turn to her voice. As my eyes land on her, they widen and a small heat began to crawl up to my cheeks. "Y...You look good Y/N." I say in awe and she blushes. "Thanks, Sousuke." She says before looking down shyly. She was so cute like this. "Let's go, shall we?" I ask and she nods her head. I smile and begin walking with her to the cinema.
Time Skip
"That was such a good movie! Did you like it Sousuke?" Y/N asks happily as she skips along beside me. "Surprisingly, yeah. I didn't think I would to be honest." I ask with a chuckle as we walk along the beach. "Well, you picked it. If you didn't think you'd like it, then why'd you pick it?" She asks and I shrug. "Who knows. Maybe I thought you would like it." I say and she smiles with another small blush. "W...Well, it's good that we both enjoyed it then." She says before shivering, making me look at her in worry. "You alright?" I ask and she nods. "Y...Yeah, just a little cold." She laughs nervously and I take off my hoodie. "Souske? What are you doing?" She asks as I wrap the jacket around her shoulders. "You're gonna freeze if you don't warm up. So you can take my jacket." I say and she smiles. "Thank you, but won't you get cold now?" She asks and I shake my head. "Nah, I can handle it. I've got long sleeves on." I answer and she smiles before pulling my jacket tighter around her. As we walked, just talking about nonsense, I gasped at one point as she brushed up against me. "S...Sorry, you're just...really warm..." She hums as she pushed up against me, making her way under my arm. "Come on. Let's get you home, yeah?" I ask and she nods tiredly before we begin to walk back to her house.
"Hey, Sousuke?" She asks quietly, as we stop outside of her house, making me hum in question. "Do you like me?" She asks and I  freeze. How did she find out?! "W...Why would you think-" "Rin told me..." She tells me and I sigh. "Do you want me to leave?" I ask, taking my arm from her shoulder and crossing my arms. "N...No, I just-" "You just what? You just wanna be friends? You just want me to forget about you? Well, guess what, it's not gonna happen." I yell bitterly and taking a few deep breaths. The only thing that snapped me from my trance was when I saw my jacket slipping off of Y/N's shoulders. She was staring at me in shock with tears flowing down her face.
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"W...Wait, Y/N, I-" "Do you like me?" She repeats and I stare at her. "Y...Yeah..." I answer before she picks up my jacket and walks closer. "Here." She says, handing it over and allowing me to take it. "You don't want this anymore?" I ask, my heart slowly breaking. "No, I've got something else to keep me warm." She says with a smile before walking closer to me and hugging me tightly. "Y...Y/N?" I ask in shock as she looks up at me. "I love you too." She says and I gasp before smiling. I wrap my arms around her gently and rub her back. "I'm glad..." I say before the door was opened. "Y/N-Oh, Souske-kun. I didn't know you would be here...um, I'll let you two be. Come inside when you're ready, sweetie." Y/N's (choose the parent you want) says before smiling and walking back inside. Y/N giggles, sounding like music to my ears, before kissing my cheek and walking towards the door. "Bye Sousuke~ I'll see you tomorrow?" She asks with a smile and I nod. "You bet. I'll come to pick you up after school and we'll go to the city." I say before she smiles and nods. "Bye Y/N." I say with a satisfied smile as she waves and closes the door. I sigh happily before turning to walk back to school so I could sleep.
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\\Outgoing encrypted text: @skywxrpxd
Hey,
I’m guessing that understandably you probably don’t want to hear from me in any way shape or form, but I owe you an apology. So…buckle up, I guess. Or don’t and delete this message. Or burn it or something. I dunno. I feel like if someone could figure out how to burn digitally encrypted data you’d be the one to do it.
Now that the stalling is out of the way-
I’m sorry.
Tut mir leid.
Just as a heads up I’m putting all of this down via stream-of-consciousness, so if I’m all over the place sorry about that too?
I guess I should try to find a starting point.
You know how there’s that ‘oh-no second’ before the pain registers after you stub a ped tip or run your shin guard into the corner of a piece of furniture?
That’s how it was after I kissed you.
Although I guess the furniture metaphor kinda falls short. It was more that moment before the thermonuclear warhead drops. And you can see it happening in slow motion, but there’s nothing you can really do but think, ‘Wow. I went an’ done did bad on this one.’
See, there was this split-second immediately after I did that to you where even dense, stupid me realized ‘Oh. That was a bad decision.’ Only even then it hadn’t fully percolated just on how many levels I had fucked up. Not yet. I mean, again, I could tell that I fucked up, but it wasn’t after I talked to TC about it, and after I had some time to think about it, that I really, ya know, got it. The whole of it and the magnitude of the awfulness of what I had done. He definitely helped me realize some of the finer points of where I messed up beyond the obvious.
I understand why you were so angry at me. Everything you said…everything you accused me of-
I get it. I understand. And… I dunno, even if I wasn’t thinking of things in that way, or really thinking at all, I… agree? Well, I’m not saying that I was actively trying to do any of the things I think you thought I was trying to do, but I a hundred percent can see how it looked that way. And that’s the thing that matters, right?
Prowl once told me perception can be reality, and I get that a little better now.
None of it was me getting tired of TC and looking for something new, but… I made him worry that that’s what it was. That’s not what I was trying to do, and I didn’t see things like that, but that doesn’t matter because that’s what I made him feel.
That’s what I made you feel? On top of a buncha other not great things.
I need to back up for a bit.
I want to at least say that, no. I wasn’t put up to anything by the Autobots. I wasn’t following orders. I am perfectly capable of being stupid all on my own. My mistakes were mine.
Not that you have any reason to trust me anymore, I just wanted to let you know that everything I had done, both at that point and beforehand, and every interaction we’ve ever had… It wasn’t all part of some long-con, insidious Autobot plot to compromise you. Or TC. 
Literally, it’s all just been me being a massive idiot, floundering along as I figure everything out on the fly. Because apparently, I’m an inexperienced, self-destructive moron who doesn’t know anything, and to compensate, I make things up as I go to my own detriment.
I don’t want you to think that I was ordered to do anything because that’s not true. I also don’t want you to think that because in some way shape of form, to me at least, that makes it sound like I’m not a hundred percent responsible for my choices. Which is wrong. I am.
My choices were mine and mine alone. Every step. Talking to you. Wanting to keep talking to you even though I shouldn’t just because of faction shit alone let alone anything else. Wanting to hang out with you. Wanting a back and forth where things weren’t all vitriol and death threats, but instead, I dunno... Holiday slag and pretending not be a soldier for a bit.
None of that was a lie, because I’m selfish like that. I wanted those things even though I’m not supposed to. 
Kissing you was my choice. I wasn’t put up to it. That insensitive, stupid decision was mine alone.
I am absolutely a hundred percent to blame for my own bad decisions. Nothing was planned, everything was literally just me making things up as I go, fucking up along the way, and no one else is responsible for any of it.
I don’t plan things. I improvise, and do, and I push, and I push, and I push, toeing the line, and then I have the gall to be shocked when things go wrong.
I didn’t communicate what I was about to do. Or ask properly? I didn’t say , ‘Hey Skywarp, is it okay if I do this specific thing?’ Or use my slagging words? That would have been the smart thing, right? Because then you could have said no, or you could’ve hit me sooner. Or better yet, I could have done nothing. I could’ve reigned in a bad impulse. I shouldn’t have done anything at all. But would’ve, could’ve should’ve rights?
But I got scared that maybe I was starting to like you in the same way that I like TC, and that was terrifying…but you’re right. That’s still awful. I’m awful and I handled it in the worst possible way I think.
I shouldn’t have done anything, but I did do something, and I’m sorry. I can’t take it back.
I wasn’t trying to, but again, it doesn’t matter because I hurt you, I think.
Even if I didn’t see any of it in the context you perceived things, and even if in my head I never had any intention to hide things from anyone, what difference does that even make? I made TC afraid that maybe I was tiring of him, and I think maybe I made you feel like I was using you? And it doesn’t matter that that’s not what I was trying to do at all. All that matters is the fact that you felt that way, right? That he felt that way?
Hurt and betrayed?
Literally the shittiest two-birds-one-stone scenario, and it took me a fraction of a second.
Because that’s not okay. That’s so not okay, especially when you’re supposed to care about someone. But even if you don’t believe me, I want to let you know that that I wasn’t trying to hurt you, or use you, or fool you. That’s not what I was trying to do. I just…I got scared. I got scared that I was going down the same slagging dusty road I had been down once before, because again all of this…including everything with TC…in the grand scope of the entirety of my life, is new. That doesn’t justify anything, but- I don’t know where I’m going with this.
As previously established, I’m an idiot.
And since I’m an idiot, and since it’s honesty hour, the truth of it is I like you. That much I already knew even though I pretended I didn’t. Which is stupid, because actions speak louder than words right?
I like…liked hanging out with you. I liked the silly conversations, and the stupid jokes, and I like how your head works, and the fact that you have something you believe in. Because you get some of how my head works, and not just the rapid-fire-jokes parts of it. You know what it’s like to have everyone look at you like you’re a vapid, one-dimensional idiot, even if that’s not it. There’s depth there. I can see what all the fond and good things that TC would tell me about are.
And I got scared because I didn’t want it to be the same.
You asked me if I thought this was fun, right? TC? You? It’s not. Being afraid to fight someone who’s supposed to be my enemy because I don’t want to hurt them is not fun.
I know I already said this before, and it fell flat then, but with TC… with TC nothing was planned. It snuck up on me. Harassing him like a good little Autobot turned to talking. To conversations. To understanding him and wanting to know more about him, and caring about him, and before I knew it I was defying my commander and ruining everyone’s trust in me, including my own brother’s, to go get him. I don’t regret that. I’ll never regret that. Maybe how a lot of it was handled, yeah, but in that case every impulsive decision I ever made for him was worth it.
Because he was an exception to a long-standing rule.
None of that was Thundercracker’s fault. That was me. Again, that was my decision, and I’m sorry for what that did to you too.
Then there was you, and I was scared that everything with you was too like everything before. Primus, I’m not trying to shift any blame toward you even a little bit, because this is all because of things in my own head. But again: here’s someone who’s supposed to be my enemy, and I apparently go and decide that in some capacity I like them. I wanted to know what it was. In what capacity. And In my head, in that moment, it made sense because then I thought if I could figure out what it was then I could… I dunno, talk to TC about it. Talk to you about it. Figure it out, or maybe see if it was nothing at all. Figure out what the hell to do? If anything? Or nothing. I don’t-
I was stupid. I was stupid, and thoughtless, and I wasn’t thinking about how…cruel that was.
You were right.
You were right because at that moment I wasn’t thinking about anything or anyone outside of my own impulsiveness. I wasn’t thinking about how he’d feel. Or how you’d feel. Or the slag timing of everything, and how things are between both of you with your trine…. Your trine bond just fell apart and I was so…. callous. Seriously, now is when I go and pull this bullshit? I was so concerned with my own worries, that I think I just assumed that everything was in a vacuum that would just work out regardless of the answer I found for myself and that was thoughtless and selfish. It didn’t occur to me how awful and cruel that was. In my head, in what little I spent thinking about anything before I just went and did. I thought-
I don’t know what I thought.
It probably sounds like I’m just… rationalizing and trying to make excuses but I’m not trying to do that. Then again, I wasn’t trying to be as awful as I had been and look at everything now.
So, in summary. I was in the wrong. I messed up. It doesn’t slagging matter what my intentions were in the end. That’s no excuse.
That’s no excuse.
Dafür gibt es keine Entschuldigung.
Dafür gibt es keine Entschuldigung, und es tut mir zutiefst und aufrichtig leid.
You were right. That wasn’t loving him enough. And for all I’m trying to claim that it was because I was worried I liked you, that wasn’t fair to you either. You were right to be angry, and disgusted with me, and to be honest I get it. 
Because that’s what I feel towards myself.
It…It wasn’t the same as with Thundercracker. I don’t know entirely what answer I got, but at the very least I know that, and I think at the core of it all-
-I think I wanted to be your friend.
But that doesn’t mean that I’m somehow entitled to you liking me back in any capacity. Or that you automatically would be cool with anything I did. Especially after doing something so stupid.
Everything was already fragile....
If anything, I feel like if there was even the remotest chance of cultivating some vaguely friendship shaped thing, I went and shattered it against a wall in a moment of selfish thoughtlessness, didn’t I? And you know what?
That’s my fault. That’s all me, and I’ll live with it.
Although maybe that was a stupid, selfish thing to have wanted too.
So….
I don’t know why I’m trying to do this. Or what I’m trying to accomplish.
Still felt I owed an apology.
I hurt him. And I hurt you.  
I’m not trying to rationalize, or make excuses, because it doesn’t matter what the ‘why’ was in my head. That doesn’t make any of it, somehow, acceptable or right. It’s not. It’s not it’s not it’s not-
It’s not an excuse and I understand how…terrible it was of me to do that. Just the timing of everything alone was cruel. I wasn’t clear on what I was about to do. I didn’t give TC any kind of heads up or discuss it with him first. I didn’t communicate anything. I just assumed.
So, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for making you question my intentions. I’m sorry for making you question my intentions with Thundercracker because even if he doesn’t talk about it, and even if you didn’t much, I know he’s still important to you.  I’m sorry that I... betrayed both of you in some way. And if it earned me resentment from either of you, there’s no one to blame but me.
I didn’t want to hurt you.
I didn’t mean to hurt you.
Tut mir Leid, ich wollte dir nicht wehtun.
But I did.
You had every right to be angry with me.
You have every right to hate me.
Both of you deserved better.
You deserved better,
So…. I guess that’s it.
I’m not expecting a response back. You don’t owe me that.
Knowing you owe an apology isn’t synonymous with being entitled to forgiveness.
Just…
I’m so sorry.
It’ll never be enough, but I’m sorry. It doesn’t fix anything. I can’t fix the things I broke.
But I’m sorry.
-Sides
//end encrypted text.
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rewolfaekilerom · 3 years
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dear diary #1
//NOTE: This was originally posted to Wordpress on 05.16.2021//
I didn’t post last week because I was busy having a life. There, I said it.
Honestly, my explanation (I’m big on explanations but not excuses these days) for why I didn’t write anything last week is that I didn’t have anything to say and I didn’t feel like taking the time to think of something to say.
Or maybe I just wanted to marinate in the joy of finishing back-to-back viewings of Ginny and Georgia.
In any case, over the past few weeks I’ve been idly brainstorming my next post, but I’ve really only come up with a hodge podge of different ideas about random things that couldn’t sustain their own full posts but that still interest me. I thought that a simple solution would be to group these things into a diary-like post where I take my usual babbling to a new level.
Off we go.
When 2021 started, I decided to set myself a few goals–resolutions, if you will. I’ve never set resolutions before (well, not really), so I figured I’d be pretty bad at setting them and even worse at keeping them. Honestly, though, I think I’ve done a pretty fair job of both–all things considered.
Let me back up a step, though, to explain why this was the year that I finally decided to set some resolutions. 2020 was quite a year for everyone, so I think that’s a fairly simple explanation. The more complicated explanation is that 2020 was a year of massive transition for me. I’ve never thought about it that way before, but I think it’s actually pretty accurate.
I started 2020 with absolutely no sense of where I’d be–literally, figuratively, whatever–after the fifth month. I knew that my contract for my then-current job would end in May and that I probably wouldn’t find a similar contract there, so I’d need to find work somewhere else. I should clarify that I 100% wasn’t upset about the prospect of finding different work; I liked that job, but it wasn’t for me, if that makes sense. Having that job and doing the day-to-day of it proved to me that it wasn’t the type of work I wanted to do for the rest of my life, so that May end-date was a welcome one. See, I spent all of grad school feeling a bit torn between two paths: one was the expected path, the path everyone seemed to idealize and expect good students to follow; the other path was certainly not uncharted, but it was a path that was less idealized by admin and faculty. I felt torn between doing what I thought was expected of me as a good student and doing what I really wanted to do–the thing I’d sort of secretly come to love during my master’s and continuing throughout the PhD. Spoiler: that second thing is the thing I’m doing now, and I think I’m pretty happy doing it.
That one-year position gave me a chance to glimpse at what that first path, that expected path, would be. It was fine, and I understand why some people idealize it, but it wasn’t for me. I worked 12-hour days 7 days a week. I didn’t take vacations and I felt guilty when I so much as took an afternoon or morning off to spend time with friends or family. The guilt was constant. I also felt incompetent 90% of the time. The guilt and the imposter syndrome was too much, especially because I knew I shouldn’t feel either. That made me feel even more guilty, so I just worked more and harder. Frankly, that summarizes my experience in grad school a bit, and it explains why I didn’t really have hobbies or do anything other that work. I like to joke that the reason I worked so relentlessly during grad school wasn’t because I’m one of the smart ones; it’s because I’m one of the dumb ones trying to look like a smart one. That’s probably not true, either, but I really am a bit of a workhorse when it gets down to it.
So, 2020: a transition year. I spent the first few months of the year (and the last few months of the previous year) applying for jobs. I had also spend the previous winter/spring (of 2019) applying for jobs. That’s obviously how I ended up with that one-year position. Well, that’s actually a longer story, but I’ll save it for another time.
When the pandemic hit the US in March 2020, I was in the middle of a few job searches. I probably had 20 job applications out, and I was actively involved in 3 or so searches. The pandemic set off a domino effect that resulted in all but a few of those searches being cancelled. My mom has described it as me standing in a hallway filled with open doors and watching as each of those doors slams shut, one by one. I was lucky, really, because one of the few doors that stayed open was the door I’d hoped would stay open. It was the door that was me-shaped; the door and I fit one another perfectly, and it let me pass through. I know how lucky I am. I appreciate how lucky I am.
I got my perfect fit. Excellent! But that also meant that I had about two weeks to move halfway across the country. Literally. I was interviewing for this job in March and April. I heard that I’d got the job on May 1, and the offer letter came by May 11. By May 17, I had found a new apartment in a new state, booked movers, started packing, and gave away my couch; I was also in the process of sorting out utilities in the new place and all the other stuff that goes along with moving. Dad drove out to me on May 24 to help with the movers. I moved into my new place during the second or third week of June, if I remember correctly. Bug and I spent around a week or two living at my parents’ house before my stuff arrived at my new place. I started work on June 1, so some of that had to happen in my parents’ dining room while I was in the middle of moving.
The move was fast. SO FAST. I basically moved in two weeks–in the gap between one job ending and the next one starting. During that time, I said socially distanced goodbyes to friends, learned that Bug has a heart murmur (we’ve since been to a cardiologist and still don’t know what it means, if anything), and packed and moved my entire apartment for the second time in a year. Bug has been with me for just under two years and we’ve lived in three different places together. It’s pretty wild. Oh, and I learned a new job. My training lasted one month–most of June 2020. By July, it was all me running the show. Wild.
The thing no one really tells you about moving during a pandemic is that everything takes longer. Summer 2020 was also the summer of protests against systemic racism and police violence in the US. The moving truck with my stuff drove through, I think, 4 or so cities while they were having massive protests. My stuff took about two weeks to arrive, which wasn’t a big deal compared to the other, much bigger things going on in the world. I just think it’s fascinating that my stuff went so many placed without me. Once it arrived, I managed to unpack pretty quickly, but any new furniture I bought took so much time to arrive because the pandemic shut down a lot of factories. For instance, I ordered my couch at the beginning of July, I think, and I’m pretty sure I didn’t have it until September. The salesperson didn’t even tell me it would take that long, so figuring that out was another huge ordeal. Oh, and when it finally arrived, only half of it came. I had to wait a week for the other half to come because . . . they only ordered me one half of a couch. Who only wants half of a sectional couch???
Transition #3 of 2020, then, was getting settled into this new life.
These three massive transitions happening all in one year was a lot. The first two happened pretty close together, and they were pretty high stakes. The third one was high stakes, too, but I knew it would take longer, so the pressure was less immediate. Even so, my anxiety was off the charts by the end of the year. I also felt a bit aimless because I didn’t have my old, familiar routines of my previous life and the pandemic made it a bit hard to establish familiar ones in my new place. I knew that the new routines I had established were temporary, but I didn’t know how long that “temporary” would last. I also wasn’t consumed with work 24/7. I definitely work more than 9-5, 7 days a week, but I work nowhere close to what I had been working in my previous job. It’s more like 9-5, 5 days a week with some hours sometimes in the evening on weekdays and maybe some hours on weekends if I want to deal with something instead of letting it go for the next business day. It works really well for me. I’m not sure I’d like a normal office job; I like the stability and flexibility of this job. I also do a million different things, which keeps me invested and on my toes, which I like.
In any case, though, I felt a bit aimless by the end of 2020 and a bit anxious because the main events of my life were pretty much focused around work. My parents visit regularly, and I have Bug, but all I really did was work and sleep.
My resolutions, I decided, were the way I’d change that. They were my way of fleshing out my life and making sure I didn’t live to work instead of working to live, if that makes sense. I thought they’d be a good way to channel my nervous/anxious energy, be productive, and challenge myself. I wanted to use my brain in different ways and tire myself out so I’d go to sleep feeling like I’d accomplished more in a day.
The thing I disliked about that expected career path was that it tended to transform the people who followed it into the jobs they do. They become their job, and their job becomes their sole source of their identities. I wanted to make sure I was more than the sum of what I did to make money, and I thought resolutions would be the way to make sure I was a person who did things other than work. I can be a bit of a work-a-holic, I guess, and I wanted frivolous activities to decompress and be a human and relax. I also needed an answer for when people asked, “oh, what are your hobbies?”
My advisor once asked me “what do you do?” And I genuinely struggled to answer him. One of my friends overheard the conversation, and we laughed hysterically about it afterward because I said the first thing that came to mind at the time–swimming. I swam competitively in high school, but I was never good. I swam competitively because I liked being in the water and the team was a way for me to get in a pool for free. My coach knew that’s why I was there, so he let me go through the motions of being on the team but also relegated me to operating stop watches and calculating points during meets. When my advisor asked me that question, though, I hadn’t swam like that for years, and I hadn’t really swam for exercise in a long time either. It was just the first thing that came to mind as a hobby I would possibly like to do if I had the time to have a hobby.
I had hobbies in high school, though. I painted pretty regularly. I also did swim team. I listened to music constantly. I crafted. I read for fun like my life depended on it. I watched TV. I did normal teenager things and then some. During college and grad school, my hobby time dried up a bit. Or, rather, that time went to other things. I listened to less music, I exercised less, I read for work so didn’t do it for fun, and I stopped doing most crafts. I picked up other hobbies that filled in the gaps, though. I did my nails in some pretty wild designs, and I did some crocheting when I found the time. But it was always “when I found the time.” I crammed me time into the gaps between being too tired to work anymore and being too keyed up to fall asleep.
Halfway through the PhD, and after one particularly bad semester where I think I gained 30 points in cheesy bread from one class alone, I decided I needed to change things because “me time” had ceased to exist. So, I set aside one hour of free time a day to exercise. I lost 30 pounds and gained a bit of confidence. Or maybe self-respect is a better term? I’m not sure what would be a good word for what I gained, but it was something. I started to feel entitled to my time. That one hour a day evolved into a dream of having nights and weekends to myself. I clung desperately to the possibility of living a “normal” life that entailed not feeling guilty for enjoying free time and not being “on” all the time. I crammed that one hour of me-time at the gym wherever I could. I started going to the gym at midday because that’s when I could fit it in during those first few months. After that, I would get up at 6am to go to the gym and then straight to my office, where I’d have breakfast and then work until 6 or 7pm. Once I got Bug, I shifted that schedule to be home more; I still exercised, but I worked from home way more often. Having her forced me to turn off and focus on her needs. She’s trained herself to come into my office at 5 and meow at me until I close the computer and go into the living room with her.
My new job afforded me the time to not be at work all the time. It afforded me freedom to leave work at work and to use my brain to do other things. But because I’d let those “other things” disappear from my life over the past decade, I didn’t really have anything to fill that time except with worrying, which probably was my only hobby for a few years.
Flip to the beginning of 2021, and I’d had enough of being anxious all the time. I was worrying constantly about things that weren’t worth worry about. I was worrying about things I couldn’t change, which is something I learned years ago isn’t worth it (I’m nothing if not sensible with my worrying), and I was worrying instead of doing something about the things I could change.
I was ambitious but also reasonable in drawing up my list of resolutions:
Watercolor-a-day
Listen to more music
Appreciate life, and maybe work on anxiety
Read for fun more
Write/journal more
Learn to crochet doilies
Play more video games
Lost some weight by eating better and maybe exercising when it’s safe
Socialize more–when it’s safe.
Honestly, I’ve stuck to that list. The watercolor-a-day thing lasted about a month, but I have been doing visual arts more often. A few times a month I’ll paint or make a card for someone or do something like that.
Listening to music has been one of the biggest challenges, believe it or not. As I mentioned, I used to be an avid music listener. In high school, I was a bit like Lane in Gilmore Girls. I devoured music and had an extensive catalog of songs and artists. I listened to a wide variety of genres and was up-to-date on trends. I was constantly discovering new artists and genres–most were new to me but had been around for a while, but I was also familiar with top 40 hits. I’ve tried to remedy this a bit by listening to the charts on Spotify, and I’ve found some curated lists that have allowed me to find new artists. I’m just struggling to remember to turn on music when I’m casually living my life. I listen to music when I can while I work, but the work I do makes it hard to concentrate when music is playing. I think this is just something I need to try harder at. I keep meaning to buy a radio, but I just want to buy other things instead.
This blog was my way of journaling more and finding an outlet for reading for fun more. It was also my way of exercising that part of my brain that is creative with words, which has been a positive experience. It’s also making me feel more appreciative for life because it’s a space where I can be reflective. I can see myself writing a sentence that’s whiny and I can think about why I’m whining and not just appreciating what I have. Trust me, I see every whine in infinitely more detail than anyone else does. I’m my best critic, so I don’t need any help.
I’ve also flitted around a bit between hobbies. I’ve tried on and off to learn a new language. I started with Czech but decided that German would be more useful for work. I actually started writing this post to procrastinate looking at German grammar lessons. I’m a bit off of the German-learning thing right now.
I’m also off of video games for the moment. I play ACNH pretty regularly, but I had also been playing BotW and New Pokemon Snap. BotW stresses me out so much that I’ve considered throwing it out. I don’t like killing things. I thought there’d be more exploration. ACNH has gotten a little dull, though I still play and am eagerly awaiting the 2.0 update–whenever that comes. NPS is great; I just have other things I’d rather do.
Those “other things” consist primarily of crocheting. This is a skill my mom taught me as a tween or teenager, probably sometime after I’d outgrown summer camp but was too young to just . . . spend the summer hanging around or working. She’s incredibly crafty, but crochet isn’t her thing. I’m pretty sure she learned it from an aunt or her mom but has always done other sorts of crafts. A lot of the other women in our family were avid crocheters, though. We have bags of doilies and table runners with crocheted lace trim that are absolutely gorgeous. During the summer between my MA and PhD, I made an afghan out of granny squares. I still have it and love it. I crocheted a tiny bear for my high-school boyfriend before he moved across the country; I’m not sure he really appreciated how much work it took, and I wish I kept it for myself because it was well made–I didn’t even use a pattern. I also picked up cross stitch and embroidery during grad school because it was cheap and fairly easy to pick up every few months for a crafting party. But crocheting is something I love doing.
I wanted to get back into crocheting, though, because I wanted to make a new afghan and to decorate my apartment with things I’ve made. I haven’t started the new afghan because I’ve been trying to decide on colors, but I have been crocheting doilies. This was something I hadn’t done before, but they’re really fun to make. They’re tough and they require way more concentration than crocheting a scarf, but they really are “ta-da” objects. They require so much skill and precision. They’re works of art, really. Making a doily is a mediative experience, honestly. They require so much concentration that all the other worries have to disappear to make room in your brain for remembering stitches and figuring out how to make the pattern work by interpreting the (often shorthand and simplistic) instructions. My first few really weren’t great, but I’ll blame the patterns. I’ve since started finding patterns from the 1950s that are excellent. A lot of the newer patterns have wacky stitches that the pattern’s designer has come up with but doesn’t explain clearly. The patterns from the 1950s and earlier rely on basic stitches with one or two unique stitches thrown in.
I’ve also started making crocheted things for friends. So far, I’ve made a Jiji doll (from Kiki’s Delivery Service) for one friend and a Baby Yoda for another friend. I like making things for friends because it’s a personal touch. I think it means so much that you took the time to make something rather than just buying it. It’s also a good way to make sure you’re giving someone something they don’t already have.
I’m on a bit of a crochet kick right now, but my focus on hobbies has gone through phases over the past few months. For a few weeks at a time I might be really eager to play video games, and then a few weeks later I’ll be focused exclusively on crocheting. Other times, all I want to do is paint. I was sewing for a while, too, but fabric is expensive. Crocheting is a nice middle-ground between working with my hands and my mind and not spending too much money. It isn’t too difficult to find pretty good yarn, and it’s not that expensive either.
So, all that is to say that 2021 has been a fuller, more grounded year so far. We’re still in the middle of a pandemic, and life is far from normal. I have a routine, but it’s a temporary one that I know will have to change eventually. That alone is difficult, but it’s also been helpful to know that some parts of my routine will stay the same even after the pandemic ends. The hobbies and me time don’t have to go away when the pandemic ends. Some of the time I devote to them may get shifted to new hobbies–I might even make new friends in this new place! But they’ll still be there. I can still set aside Thursday nights for making doilies, and I can have Saturdays for watching TV, if I want. There’s a sense of calm that comes with that knowledge. I’m glad I decided to make some resolutions this year, and I’m especially glad that those resolutions are accomplishing the things I’d hoped they would accomplish.
Oh, and I’ve been watching iZombie lately. It’s like Veronica Mars meets Dexter meets Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Warm Bodies. 10/10 recommend.
Okay, that’s enough for now.
XOXO, you know.
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gukyi · 6 years
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tripping over ourselves | jsw
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⇒ summary: jeong sewoon is your best friend. he also happens to be a vampire. you’re no expert with vampires, but there must be something about his immortality that keeps drawing you to him. no way is it just his cute personality on its own.
⇒ vampire!au, friends to lovers!au
⇒ pairing: jeong sewoon x reader
⇒ word count: 4k
⇒ warnings: blood mention (it’s a vampire au, i don’t know what else you were expecting)
⇒ a/n: happy birthday to the baddest bitch i know, @sihyun !!!! i love u so much and i wanted to do something special for ur birthday, so here this monstrosity is!!!!! i could make this authors note like 4k long if i wanted to bc i love u so much. on a side note, me writing for a pd101 boy is kind of a one time thing. soz.
There’s a lifeless, colorless bird on your windowsill, and it’s the first thing you notice when you step inside your shared apartment. The poor thing’s had the life drained right out of it; decaying, rotting scent wafting through the room. It almost looks peaceful, really, collapsed on its side like it just conked out after a very long flight, feathers fluttering softly in the breeze that runs through the flat.
Well, at least Sewoon had the decency to open the window to get the smell out.
Dead animals are a surprisingly common occurrence in whatever fucked-up household you live in, though you made the executive decision a while ago to restrict the animals that Sewoon treks in to just birds of flight. No penguins, tragically, and also no rodents. Dead birds are a little less gross than dead rats. You see enough of those already whenever you walk down the sidewalk of the city center.
You sigh, seeing this as only a minor inconvenience at best, and drop your backpack to your feet, letting it hit the wall beside it. Once that damn heavy thing is off of your shoulders, you make a beeline for his room, storming towards it and trying not to pay too much attention to the lifeless creature on the windowsill. The less you worry about it, the better. If you spent your entire life stressing over the fact that sometimes Sewoon has to kill birds to live, then you’d never get anything done.
“Sewoon?” You ask, a little peeved, not even bothering to knock on his closed door and instead just barging inside. “I thought we discussed—”
Sewoon looks up like a deer in the headlights, eyes wide as the light from the hallway illuminates a bit of his figure. His room is pitch black otherwise, every part of it hidden in the shadows, including himself. His eyes are a blazing shade of red, a stark signal that he’s just fed. In a little, they’ll fade back to a casual mahogany shade. Something a little less… obvious. There’s a thin trail of blood from his bottom lip to his chin, little drops falling onto his sheets.
“You’re kidding me,” you immediately say, crossing your arms over your chest as you take in the sight in front of you. “Don’t tell me you’ve been batting around in the dark while I was in class.”
“I have,” Sewoon says, grinning guiltily. “But not by much. I just haven’t fed in a while, I got a bit desperate. Didn’t want you to come home to see me freaking out in the living room, getting blood stains all over the furniture.”
You chuckle, stifling a much bigger laugh. “You do that even when I am home.”
“But I try to avoid it when you’re not, just so you don’t scream at me when you get back,” he insists, eyes pleading. God, they always fucking work on you. Vamps with soft hearts are a deadly combination. No pun intended.
“I’ll scream at you any time.”
“Like now?” He asks, wincing. He knows he’s in some minorly deep shit now.
“Like now,” you confirm, walking into his dark room and pulling him from his bed by his shirt collar, holding onto it tightly as you drag him outside. “I thought we discussed the dead bird shit, man,” you say, exasperated. “What the hell is this?”
“The dead bird shit.”
“Exactly. When did you even have the time to feed off of it?” You ask, pushing the boy backwards, making him stumble over his feet, dazed. You peer out the window, squinting at the moon behind the skyscrapers. “The sun barely set an hour ago.”
“I was really hungry,” Sewoon admits, and from the way his eyes are still ignited in red hot flames and the blood on his chin is still fresh, you know he’s telling the truth. “It’s been tough.”
“Don’t you work the night shift at the hospital?” You remind him. Typically, this type of incident isn’t an issue, just because Sewoon kind of has an endless supply of human blood whenever he goes in for his internship. It’s a win-win situation most of the time, really. Sewoon gets his blood and he doesn’t have to come in contact with the sun, which—while it will not kill him—will give him a particularly gnarly sunburn on the skin where exposed. Vamp perks. Or not, you suppose.
“They’ve given me more work this past week,” Sewoon sighs, collapsing onto the couch as you get a paper towel to shove the bird out of the window. Couldn’t he have just done this on his own? “I haven’t had the time to feed.”
“God, I hate it when you’re all responsible and productive. It makes me feel so awful,” you tell him, rolling your eyes as you move his feet off of the couch so you can sit next to him. “You’re literally going to live forever. You have all the time in the world to be productive and responsible. Me? I’m gonna die.”
“Not soon, I hope,” Sewoon says, sitting up and leaning on your shoulder. “Nobody else understands my vampire ways like you do.”
“I’ve had to deal with you my entire life. Vamp or not, you’re stuck with me.”
Sewoon rests his chin on your shoulder and grins your way, a tired, hazy smile, and he shows off his blood-stained fangs in the process. They are, admittedly, very cute for a vampire, endearing and surprisingly fitting for him. It’s like he was just made to be a vamp. You can’t help but send a smile his way, not when it’s late in the evening and time feels delicate and slow. You reach a hand up and wipe away the blood on his chin with your thumb, letting it stain your skin and leave his skin pale in return.
“I’d rather live the rest of my days alone than with someone that isn’t you,” Sewoon says, and the line that resides between platonic and romantic affection is practically moot at this point, a nonsense concept that shouldn’t try to separate relationships into black and white. Every interaction with him that you have is platonic, but it could also be romantic if you wanted it to be.
The question is: Do you want it to be romantic? Does he?
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Sewoon’s favorite season is winter. By a very long shot. It used to be summer, but that was before he turned, before he realized that he literally always has to walk around outside covered from head to toe, unless he was looking for some intense sunburn to go along with those awful shorts of his. Now, when the seasons change and he gets to bundle up under layers upon layers of sweaters and coats and scarves, he thrives.
You quite like the colder months too, but maybe that’s just because Sewoon always looks so adorable with that bright orange puffer jacket on over four different sweaters. Like the coziest, bright orange marshmallow in the world. He’s always had a particularly cold body, even when you two were children. Not even being turned into a vamp could change that.
“You look like you’d rather die than let your skin touch the sun,” you’re commenting as the two of you get ready to go out on the town. It’s shopping season (it’s always shopping season, really), and you’re also meeting up with one of his friends at a little winter music festival in the square.
“Isn’t that kind of the point of being a vamp?” Sewoon asks as he zips up that obnoxious orange coat of his. He fishes his only pair of gloves out from the pockets of the jacket, tugging them on before turning to attack his scarf. It takes you guys almost five minutes to get from saying that you’ll leave now to actually leaving. It’s always him.
You laugh. “Sun versus Sewoon, who will come out on top?” You declare in your best wrestling commentator voice.
Sewoon smiles to himself, little white fangs peering out from his closed mouth, meeting his soft pink bottom lip. “Sun, definitely. I’d be toast.”
“Ba dum tss,” you say, noting his probably-intentional pun and grabbing your bag and opening the door, the universal signal for hurry the fuck up, let’s go before it’s tomorrow already. Sewoon gets the message and speeds up the process of putting on his boots before scurrying to join you as you make your way down the hallway.
“Are you looking forward to this music thing?” He asks as you reach the lobby. “The one that Donghyun invited us to?”
You shrug, bracing yourself for the biting wind as you leave your complex. “I guess. I’m not looking forward to standing in the cold for God-knows how long.”
“You just gotta toughen up,” Sewoon says, reaching an arm around you and tugging you close into his side. “I’ll warm you up.”
“You’re a fucking vampire. You wouldn’t warm up even if you stood in flames,” you say, frowning.
“I tried to be hospitable and welcoming and romantic and you shoot me down, once again,” Sewoon says, shaking his head in disapproval. “Stop being so realistic all of the time. It ruins the mood.”
“That’s my job.”
“Ah, yes,” Sewoon nods, chuckling to himself heartily as the two of you make your way along the sidewalks to get to the town center, “Professional Mood Ruiner. Very prestigious title. You should put that on your resumé.”
“I’ll put it right next to Vampire Moral Support,” you joke, grinning his way and shivering from the cold. He tightens his hold on you, coat warming you up in place of the body heat that he no longer possesses.
“Yes, you do that.”
Donghyun is already there when you and Sewoon finally reach the festival stage, munching on some ridiculously unhealthy thing he probably got from a food truck nearby. He turns his head, mouth filled with food, and spots the two of you huddled together to shield yourselves from the cold as you walk over to him.
“How the hell are you wearing short sleeves?” You ask, brows furrowed. “It’s winter.”
“It’s not that cold, you guys are just weak,” Donghyun retorts, making Sewoon roll his eyes. Sometimes, when he does that, you get a little worried that those brown contacts are going to dislodge themselves and reveal the red underneath. “Look, I got us a really good spot near the front.”
“Whose smartass idea was it to have a winter music festival outside,” you mutter to yourself as you and Sewoon situate yourselves together next to Donghyun, who’s already distracted and paying little to no attention to you.
Even so, the crowd is sizeable and also getting very hype over the performing artists, Donghyun included. No wonder he’s wearing some goddamn short sleeves—the body heat he must be producing with all of that obnoxious jumping is probably warming him right up. Meanwhile, you and Sewoon are just casually standing together, swaying back and forth to the rhythm of the music. You probably look like the damn softest couple in the world, hardly even dancing to the upbeat song and all bundled up together, but neither of you are protesting. Sewoon’s always been quite comfy.
Sewoon turns to smile at you when the song changes, the shadow from his cap cast over his face as his fangs gleam in front of you. Vampires have never been so damn cute, or maybe Sewoon’s just an outlier. The one adorable vamp in the population of evil, rude ones. Of course, no wonder he’s ended up with you.
When the show ends, Donghyun rushes up to the two of you from where he was standing near the stage—you hadn’t even realized he had somehow moved—an alarming amount of sweat staining his shirt from all of the excitement. Only Donghyun would fucking somehow manage to start sweating while outside in the middle of a cold winter’s day. He looks absolutely spent, to put it gently, hair matted and panting like a dog.
“Wow, have you guys even moved?” Donghyun asks the two of you in shock. “It’s like you guys have roots growing into the ground, trapping you here.”
“I think we’re quite comfortable, don’t you?” Sewoon says confidently, wrapping his arms even tighter around your body as he grins towards you, nearly knocking into your forehead with that goddamn cap of his. You nod in response, though under this thick jacket, you’re not really sure if anyone noticed.
Donghyun puts a hand up to wave off Sewoon’s words. “Whatever. You guys can keep being soft here as the crowd leaves. I’m out. Catch you later?”
He doesn’t give either of you time to respond to his posed question and suggest another date  for meeting up, just bounces off as if the weather doesn’t affect him whatsoever, skipping away like a child.
“There’s that nice coffee shop nearby,” you remember, not wanting to go back to your apartment just yet. “Wanna go?”
Sewoon nods happily, releasing you from his embrace as the two of you head in the direction of your next destination. On the way, his fingers fiddle with yours, playing a little game in between your bodies until he eventually coaxes you into just holding his hand like normal people do.
Neither of you are really quite normal.
Stepping into the steamy little corner shop, your ears and nose heat up from the sudden change in temperature, making you shiver from the contrast. You know Sewoon experiences no such sensation, but you don’t really think he minds not having that human quality anymore. Not when your shivering is just another excuse for him to wrap his body around you like a fucking hot dog bun, or something. You eventually have to force him off of you—because with his overbearing body on top of all the heat from this coffee and your own outerwear, you feel like you’re about to melt into a pile of lava right on the hardwood floor—but he doesn’t leave you alone without a teasing little smile, one that is so terribly Sewoon of him.
“Black coffee with absolutely no flavor, how intense of you,” you comment as the two of you wander over to where you can pick up your drinks. In your best rugged, bearded lumberjack voice, you say, “Only real men waste five bucks on coffee that has no taste.”
“Oh, shut up, you know why I got it,” Sewoon says, nudging your side as he rolls your eyes, fake sick of your taunting. “Besides, it tastes better than whatever sugar-filled tea you got yourself.”
“Like you know what my very, very delicious peach green tea tastes like. With your taste buds, everything just tastes like blood, to you,” you retort.
“You got me there,” Sewoon says, pointing a finger gun your way as the barista hands you your drinks.
You migrate over to an empty couch, sitting with your legs pressed up against each others to warm up even further.
“Did you like today’s thing?” Sewoon asks, taking a sip of his coffee and not even flinching when the beverage (probably) burns his tongue. Oh, the life of a vamp.
“It was alright, I guess,” you reply. shrugging. You don’t have the invincible tongue that Sewoon does, so you refrain from drinking your tea for a little longer. “I probably would have enjoyed it more if it weren’t cold and if Donghyun weren’t so… Donghyun.”
Sewoon chuckles at your description of his friend. “That’s the most relatable thing I’ve ever heard.” Another sip. “I quite liked it, actually.”
“Really? You could hear the music under all these damn layers?”
Sewoon pouts, not appreciating your humor despite the fact that you’re absolutely hilarious. “Yes, and I enjoyed it. Makes me want to go home and experiment with my own guitar, see what I can come up with.”
“Oh, please don’t,” you say, brows downturned as you finally work up the courage to have a bit of your drink. Tastes perfect. “Your experimenting isn’t as welcome as you think it is.”
“I am a great singer, thank you,” Sewoon says, playfully affronted.
“Yeah, but you’re not necessarily a good ‘let me just strum random notes on my guitar and see if something sounds nice’ person,” you respond. You don’t know how many times you’ve come home from class to hear Sewoon stringing together some awful sounding melody, woken up in the middle of the night to some obnoxious guitaring from the room beside yours because he sleeps during the day.
Sewoon laughs at your rebuttal, too smitten to come up with his own comeback. “I was hoping you’d like it, that’s why I invited you to it.”
You chuckle. “Ah, geez, thanks. Thought I was just invited because I’m your sad mortal roommate.”
“That too,” Sewoon jokes, earning a gasp and a light smack on the shoulder from you. “I’m kidding. I really did think you’d like it, though. Was considering taking you out to another festival like this one when it gets a bit warmer.”
You narrow your eyes, taking a hesitant and drawn-out sip of your tea. “Did Donghyun set you up to do this?”
“No! All me. Thought we could go together, do some festival-y type things and listen to good music,” Sewoon says, grinning and hopeful.
It sounds suspiciously like a date to your ears, but you suppose that friends can have dates. Very romantic-sounding dates. Sewoon’s playing some sort of game here, but you’re not sure if you ever read the instruction manual, so you’re kind of just bullshitting your way through it. But a date—romantic, platonic, pathetic, whatever—with Sewoon is something you find you can never really resist.
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One plus side to your best friend-slash-vamp being your long-term uni roommate is the fact that the both of you are typically awake at the same time. This can mostly be chalked up to your absolute shit sleeping schedule and the fact that he has to try and be as awake as he can during the night, since he can’t really do much besides mope in a dark room with the blinds drawn when it’s day.
Truth be told, even before Sewoon turned, he always had kind of a terrible sleeping schedule, always calling you up in high school at three in the morning to go and have some ridiculous escapade in the local park, go to a gas station convenience store and buy an obscene amount of chips before pigging out on the sidewalk. Sewoon really was just meant to be a vampire. Hardly anything changed—other than his unyielding need for blood—when he was bitten. Jeong Sewoon is still Jeong Sewoon, fangs or not, and you are still his best friend, vamp qualities and all.
He doesn’t have his internship this week—something about overstaffing and boring patients and shift cuts that you didn’t pay much attention to—and he doesn’t have class either because he takes it online (so he can do it at night), so he’s kind of just… always at home. Always. To be quite frank, you don’t really like leaving Sewoon at home alone. Not that he’s been known to you to throw massive parties or constantly bring home one-night stands (in fact, he never does the latter), but this whole vampire thing is still a bit new to the both of you. There could always be this one weird trait that could pop out of nowhere and burn the whole damn complex down, and you don’t like taking that chance.
The relationship you have with him is a little weird. You’re not necessarily his caretaker, because he knows how to deal with his own shit most of the time, but you’re also not just his best friend-slash-roommate that just so conveniently happened to want to share an apartment with him. There’s this peculiar mix of friend, guardian, guide, and another thing you don’t like putting a name to.
That thing that makes you think that half of the time there’s some romantic connotation with whatever the hell you’re doing with Sewoon. Whatever it is.
At least you can go to class with peace of mind, knowing that Sewoon typically just keeps himself busy when you’re not there with naps, schoolwork, or that beat-up old guitar that drives you nuts. The one that makes him hiss at you when you try to touch it.
You come home on a Friday night to one of the nicest scenes you think you’ve ever seen in the history of your friendship with Sewoon. Candles are lit all around the living space (you didn’t even know you owned candles) and there are Christmas lights decorating the walls. Sewoon sits on the couch, not a dead animal in sight, curled up in several layers of blankets and duvets and sheets, and a DVD case rests on your coffee table.
“The hell is this?” You ask, mostly in awe as you look around, dropping your bag onto the floor beside you.
“Movie night, except I took the liberty of setting the mood,” Sewoon says, clearly proud of his work.
“What movie are we watching?” You ask in disbelief, settling in on the couch next to him.
“Zootopia,” Sewoon says as he presses a couple of buttons on the remote, bringing the two of you to the loading screen.
“Wow, very romantic. Animals walking on two feet, damn, it just gets you,” you comment sarcastically.
“Leave me alone, I know we both like this movie, so we’re watching it.”
“You know me so well,” you mutter as you let your head rest in the crook of his neck, heaps of blankets covering your bodies.
Surprisingly enough, the movie goes on perfectly and without any interruptions from Sewoon, who is notorious for pausing the movie every five minutes to say something. He just lets his arm tug you in closer as you snuggle together on your sad little couch in this homely apartment. Sewoon always laughs at the worst parts, though, and typically you’re just a little annoyed by the timing but tonight, you can’t help but relish in the sound of his giggles, heart racing when they begin and dropping when they end.
You’d be a fool to not notice the definite romantic aura this entire movie night possesses, from the candles to the blankets to the fairy lights. Even so, you swear to yourself that you’re just friends, that maybe Sewoon’s doing all of this just for fun because you guys are just friends and you’ve always been just friends and that’s how you think you’ll always be. Friends do this type of stuff for their friends? Right?
You’re almost half-asleep by the time the movie draws to a close, Shakira’s voice fading out as Sewoon lowers the volume.
“Sleepy?” He asks, voice thick with tiredness himself.
“Just a little,” you say, trying to hide it even though you know he can see right through you. “What was all of this for, anyway, Sewoon?”
Sewoon blushes a little, eyes glowing a dark burgundy in the candlelight. You’ve never seen them this shade before. “Just a thing for you.”
“For me?”
“Yeah, can’t you tell? I care about you a lot, Y/N. I never want you to leave my side,” Sewoon hums softly, and you have no idea what he’s going to say next, what else he’ll do to sweep you off your feet, until he presses his lips to yours.
This is easily the most lighthearted kiss you’ve ever had, no teeth or tongue, just a child’s playground kiss. Just his lips on yours. It makes you gasp ever so slightly, but immediately you melt into the feeling, smiling on his lips.
“So, how about it?” Sewoon asks, beaming and hopeful and promising. He’ll give you the world if it means your happiness. “Will you accept my very cheesy confession?”
You laugh into your hand, almost too in shock to say anything. Almost. “You’re such a soft vamp, Sewoon, but of course. Always. It’s always been you, Sewoon.”
Grinning in the candlelight, his fangs have never looked better.
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Welcome to another profile on Behind the Screens, giving you personal insight on who your favorite creators are and what they do when they aren’t wowing you with their creative ability.
On this profile, we’ll learn more about Tagan, also known in our pack as ThiamFresh or CaptainMintyFresh. The author of Airplanes, Sweet Talking, and a plethora of other Thiam prompts and stories, Tagan shares bits about her life, her writing process, her ideal road trip buddy, and her tips for creating tension-filled relationships.
Hi, Tagan! Let’s start off simple. Using a sentence, where the word count is either equal to or less than the number of letters in your two favorite Teen Wolf characters’ name, tell us about yourself. 
Theo Raeken + Derek Hale = 19: I’m Tagan. Love to write and act. I have a terrible sense of humour. Generally an accident prone mess. 
Talking about Teen Wolf characters, which five characters would be on your Ultimate Paintball/Laser Tag team and why? 
Theo, Malia, Allison, Liam, Stiles. Right, so I want Theo because like boy’s a master tactician/manipulator and he’s ruthless. Boy would 100% shoot 10 year olds to win and that’s the kind of person I want on my paintball team. Malia, again, she would have no qualms about just decimating the other team. Allison because she is an amazing shot; her role would be stealthing her way through the field to take people out/sniping everyone else while the ‘ground team’ does the closer stuff. Liam because he’s athletic and competitive. Stiles because he’s good at coming up with plans, plus...you know..he’d be really good bait for the other team.
Omg he would be! Now, before those characters blessed us with their existence, we found love and OTPs in other ones. What would you say were your first ships, way back in the day?
I’m not sure if this counts but Ant and Dec? I thought they were married but if not, then Monica and Chandler or Spike and Buffy. The first fanfiction I read was for Dramione.
And, how did you land in the Thiam Family? What about Theo x Liam drew you in?
I really liked their scenes in 6A (And some of the scenes in 5 but honestly, I hated five as a whole and watched it out of duty more than anything so I just didn’t have the enthusiasm to get into a ship.) Theo was the first bit of 6A that i actually really liked and a lot of that was just down to his sass and a lot of it was directed at Liam. And then the car key scene had me cackling with laughter. There scenes were just..fun in a way the rest of the season lacked, at least to me. So I was pretty invested in their whole dynamic and then there was ‘Being the bait’ and ‘do you know how to ride a horse’ and I was pretty sold. I went to search for Thiam content then but didn’t find any so just went back to writing the fics for other fandoms I was doing then and didn’t really mind.
But then 6B came out and the second I saw Theo on screen I was thinking “wow i can’t wait for him to see Liam and realised I was a bit more sold on them than I had planned to be and so I searched the tag again and went onto AO3 and read the few fics there but there really weren’t many. 
I’d gotten stuck on all the fics I was doing for other fandoms and so put up a request for prompts and Thiamkey gave me a bunch of headcanons and prompts and then people seemed to like them and started sending them in and then I just...talked to people and they were all lovely and we had all this amazing content coming out every week from the show and more people climbed aboard the ship. More fics being written, more prompts being sent.
Honestly, i just wanted to dip my toe in the water, write a fic or two while I waited for other people to write their own but then i suddenly found myself up to my neck in Thiam and not regretting a second of it.
Let’s jump into writing. Before we dive into the Thiam pool, if your writing process was a person, describe him or her. What does he or she do? Wear? Listen to?
My writing process as a person would probably be a toddler in a room full of toys but instead of playing with them, she just hiding under furniture and has five different conversations with five different imaginary friends at one time. She’s messy, with chocolate ice cream smeared over her face and her hair tangled into nots. She has no real idea about what’s happening but is excited none-the-less. Will have constant tantrums and cry then be excitedly squealing in the next second. ACDC would be playing in the background.
And your writing Kryptonite? How do you fight it?
Procrastination. I’m really bad at focusing on any one thing. Like, if i’m watching a new episode of a show, I’ll play solitaire in the corner of the screen because otherwise, I’m too unfocused to be focused. If that makes any sense. So when I’m writing I have to have a conversation open with someone or have just done a puzzle or something that’s fried my brain a bit so I can focus on writing, but I often end up getting too focused on the other thing and not getting any writing done.
As for how to fight it, I honestly have no idea? I just kinda flit around and hope for the best.
Well, clearly it works for you, so cheers! Do you write novels or short stories about original characters, as well? If so, can you share one you’re particularly passionate about?
Yes i dooo :) I write books. So I’ve written three so far and have like 12 in the works. (There’s a YA series in there which is why there’s so many) um..I’m not sure what i’m particularly proud of so i’m just pasting the first scene I found in my emails which is a scene from a zombie book I wrote called Autumn
Autumn Excerpt:
Sometimes I could forget, for a moment. When the sun was high in the sky and we were strolling through an open field. Weapons held loose in hand, rucksacks tossed over single shoulders. When we were throwing a bottle of water between us, talking about now pointless things, sharing stories and silly jokes. Laughs etched onto our faces as we'd forget all about it. About the past months and the horror we've seen, the people we've lost.
But then a stray would stumble into the field or we’d hear a distant scream and it would come rushing back. Hands quickly going back to locked tightly arrowed our weapons, smiles slipping from our faces.There were also times I couldn't forget, not even for a second. When we lay on rough roof tops, looking up at the dark sky willing to sleep, to get lost in a dream but I could hear it, the scratching of nails against brick, the snap of teeth hitting together and the low, guttural moans. At these times I’d think, this will be the last sound I ever hear. The huffing of the dead, the wet slapping and slurping as they tore and chewed on flesh.
On these nights I’d try to comfort myself, Say that that nightmare sound wouldn't be what I heard, I prayed for a gunshot, dreamed of that rather than the sounds bellow me. Because, these days, you go out one of two ways and a gunshot was everyone's silver lining.
When you mentioned YA series, my back straightened haha. What’s the title of your series? A synopsis for what it’d be about?
Oh god, so the longest one I have to find a new title to because it’s called Gifted and is about people with superpowers and now there’s that The Gifted show out about people with powers so that’s a bit awkward.
Me and my friend wrote a webseries when we were like 14/15 and although we only filmed a tiny bit of it, we actually had the whole thing planned out. Three seasons, 40 episodes and when we stopped working on it I was like “dude can i turn this into a book series?” and he was like “Yeah go ahead.” So I started writing a bit of it.
Gifted follows the story of three childhood friends as they get powers and deal with all the usual coming of age stuff while getting caught up with other people with powers. The first book will be done in alternating POV between the three friends, but that will slowly expand to incorporate the more important characters met along the way.
There’s lots of whump, teenagers dealing with depression and PTSD.  Basically i tried to write a new fairly light hearted story about kids coming of age and dealing with typical super power problems, but then accidentally put them through the ringer and turned it into a mass of character study and angst.
Final question before the barrage of Thiam questions lol. Characters often find themselves in situations they aren’t sure they can get themselves out of. When was the last time you were in a place like that and what did you do? 
The last time I found myself in a situation I couldn’t get out of was this summer and I cried a lot and then made scathing jokes to the reasons I couldn’t get out of the situation with a sunny smile that left the situations unaware that I was trying to figure out how to word a letter that told the situations they need never situate themselves anywhere near me ever again. (I have yet to send those letters.)
Wow, yeah, I’ve been there before. I hope you find the strength/courage to send those letters one day. Since we’re talking about personal experiences, would you say that any of your life has poured over into your Thiam writing?
The only one I can currently think of is the scene in Sweet Talking where Theo’s tired and listening to Liam, Mason and Corey hang out and thinking about how he’ll never really fit in.
My brother had a bunch of friends round before I wrote that chapter, or at least that part of that chapter. I moved away from my home town/all my friends (there’s literally 1 friend but whatever) 3 years ago and haven’t made any friends since. My brother keeps telling me his friends can be my friends but I‘m always the odd man out and it’s just really lonely so I was definitely channeling some inner loneliness into that.
Let’s say you could escape it all and venture on a major Airplanes-esque road trip. Who would you take (real or fictional)? Where would you go? And what is one shenanigan the two of you would run into?
The Queen. I just think it’d be really funny, not to mention you could get in like everywhere for free.
Honestly I think if the queen wasn’t available, I’d want to go with @thiamfanartlove. We’ve only been talking a little while, but we get on really well and I feel like we’d be equally ready to do a bunch of dumb stuff on our journey. I’d want to go around Europe. Hit up @thiamkey on the way and a few other people. 
We would 100% get into a fight at some point because neither of us have any chill. Like, someone would insult one of us and the other would just be down to fight and then it would turn into an all out brawl with us against the world. (We would lose, but it’d be a good story, at least.)
Truth. And one story we’d demand all the details on. You’ve talked a lot about some trivia, inspirations and spoilers for Airplanes in your livestream, which are linked here. So, my questions to you are more about the technique side of your writing, since it’s always amazing to learn from you all.  
You incorporate great character studies into your stories. What would you say are some tricks you use to portray what your characters are thinking?
I think, just finding a way to resonate with the character you’re writing. Even if it’s a character you think you have nothing in common with, I promise you somewhere there’s a memory you have that fits something they’ve felt. 
Liam’s POV was really weird to me at the start of airplanes so I chose to focus on something I could personally understand. Which was the need for freedom but anxiety at what it might cost the other people if you take it and that..kind of self hatred for the anger issues and wishing everything could change. You find a common thread and write that and soon enough you find yourself understanding the character, even in situations or with feelings you’ve never personally been affected by.
I don’t know if that makes any sense? But basically yeah, find common ground and that one scene you can write and then work from there.
And, the tension between your characters. How do you build that tension when it comes to relationships to avoid the instalove phenomenon?
ANGST! I dunno, the easiest way for me to slow down the instalove is the characters being more preoccupied with other stuff than their love lives. I think just..keeping it as real as possible. In my personal experience, love at first sight is rare. You can’t fall in love with someone until you know them so a lot of it is just..giving the characters these little moments that bring them closer together, making them have those conversations that you’d have with your best friend and just slowly drawing closer and closer together as you get more comfortable. Especially in Airplanes when it first starts Liam’s in a pretty bad place mentally. He’s really drained and feeling the weight of everything he’s been through so his mind was just so far away from romance that it seemed wrong to have him noticing any feelings for Theo until he was a bit happier and had healed a bit. Not to mention all the baggage the two have.
Having a character go through that process of questioning their sexuality is fun as well. I mean, Liam so far in canon has been written as straight and that’s a lot of fun to play with because you have that whole realisation process where he has to figure out that what he feels for Theo isn’t entirely platonic and that it’s different from how he feels about Mason or any of the other guys in the show and that can be a really challenging thing to do. Not even in the ‘Oh coming out is scary’ way just in the heteronormative straight until proven otherwise sort of way.
I mean i’m Bi and that took me like...21 years to realise? And it wasn’t that I didn’t have little crushes on girls before it was just I’d never noticed them for what they were. For me the only reason it clicked was because I realised I was Asexual and that my ‘well I don’t want to bone a girl so I’m not gay’ was kinda pointless thing when I realised that I didn’t even want to bone guys. It was just what was expected. Once I took that away and sat down and thought about it, it was suddenly very clear to me. But most characters won’t have that specific nudge so it can be a fairly long road.
Just, to stop instalove think about what they’re going through, think about how you fall in love because the realisation may be instant but the build up is usually gradual. You notice it in one dumb moment but to actually get there, you have a long list of bits where you get to know the other person and you deal with your own personal issues and stuff.
For building tension, it’s again just building up that relationship. You start off small with touches that make the heart speed up before they’re more comfortable and grow closer. Honestly, the best way is just to focus on the friendship first and the romantic relationship second because then you get the familiarity and that’s when you can start having your characters realise there’s something else there and that suddenly makes all these little touches a lot more terrifying and confusing as they try to figure out what it means. 
That’s perfect though. And the gritty realization that most people have about those they’ve fallen in love with since they’ve usually gotten close to that person by that point is terrifying and emotional, so I can now see where that tension comes from! Anything else you’d like to say, in general. The floor is all yours.
Umm okay. I am always accepting prompts but it willlllll take me a while to get to them because i have quite a few and don’t really go chronologically but more where the inspiration hits and sometimes, like with airplanes, that’s my own story rather than a prompt but my ask box is always always open for more prompts.
Upcoming works, I have no idea. Right now, I just want to finish airplanes and then see where I go after that. I do want to play around in the airplanes universe a little bit more after the fic is done with, delving into Theo’s POV for some of the missing scenes and I also might do a short pack scene where you have everyone realise Theo and Liam are gone in the morning in Idaho.
The reason I like sharing my work is because I like the idea that maybe I can help someone and maybe that sounds dumb--but to me--reading is a major escapism technique. I used it a lot when I was younger and this fic and the comments I’ve gotten have just made me so insanely happy because it seems like, maybe for a few people, I’ve reached my goal in helping someone through a bad day or to relax and just forget their worries for a while. And that’s the whole reason I like writing and that’s the first time I’ve ever really felt that and I literally cried when someone told me my updates helped their shitty week before because...that’s the whole reason I want to get into writing or acting as a career and to see I’d achieved that goal was just awesome.
If you’ve sent me a nice message on tumblr and I haven’t replied, it’s not because I didn’t read it or I don’t like it or whatever you might think. It’s because i’m a hoarder and now have a folder wth screen shots of all the nice messages in it, so that I can look at them when I’m having a nice day.
Really, I just want to say that I see everything you guys send or make or comment and I appreciate every single one and just thank you. Life’s been tough for me lately but getting to write for a fandom as accepting and kind as this one is really really amazing and your messages have picked me up when I’ve felt worthless so many times. Just keep being awesome Thiam fandom! And thank you for being so welcoming and supportive of everyone that joins.
Aww thank you! We’re so happy to have you in our fandom and to have Airplanes, your prompts, and other stories. I, and others have shared the same sentiment, agree with you that this fandom is amazing and so supportive of one another that it almost seems surreal! So, go us, lovely pack! 
To finish us off, what’s next for you? Both in life and in the writing world?
For life, I’m hoping to get some acting roles for student films and stuff. Get myself a laptop so I can write more and a camera (eventually) so I can film the scripts I’ve wrote. I also want to send some of my books to publishers and generally try to make a life for myself out of the two things I love doing.
I have a bunch of books I’m working on and I really want to finish writing my YA series because it seems like it could be quite fun once I get a bit more into it.
With that, BTS presents ThiamFresh to you! As always, you can keep the conversation going; respond to any of her thoughts, ask more questions, send a prompt, or simply swing by for a chat with Tagan anytime. To dive into her works, check out both her AO3 and Tumblr. 
Tumblr: thiamfresh
AO3: captainmintyfresh
Ask Box: thiamfresh ask
A huge thank you to Tagan for being so open to answering our questions and sharing her tips on character stories and building tension. 
Some great news, for everyone who enjoys this series, we’ve decided to run Behind the Screens every Thursday. And, we’d love your help in doing it! 
Have a Thiam Creator you fan over, from any platform (AO3, Tumblr, Wattpad, Instagram, FFN, etc). Please send us their names. Bonus points if you include any questions you’re dying to ask them. Likewise, if you as the creator, would like to be a part of the Behind the Screens series, give us a shout too! We’d love to get to know you, as well.
Hasta Luego!
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thecheekybrunette · 7 years
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Honestly, I actually like having a lot of information about something before I really get into it. So please, hit me with everything you've got, I really don't mind giant walls of text. :) BTS fandom introduction anon
tOkay, kid, well I guess I’ll give you a run down on each of my babies (MY BABIES). I am just gonna give a quick run down, but like... these are my perceptions, so some people might see them differently. And I am sure they see themselves somewhat differently. So. Take everything with a grain of salt. 
Seokjin/Jin: Seokjin is the oldest member of the group. At his most basic level, he’s known for liking the color pink, telling dad jokes, and being bad at dancing (though he’s gotten much better!). Fans of Seokjin tend to really love and support Seokjin, almost aggressively so, because he isn’t given many lines. And by many lines, I mean any lines. So it’s really hard to be a Jin fan, which is unfair because he’s great. Like, he’s head visual, so he’s the most objectively hot (lately people have been calling him “Mr. Worldwide Handsome” because of a response to an interview question about all the attention he got at the Magenta Carpet). He does a really good job caring for the younger members. He’s the one who drove Jungkook to high school in the mornings, and Jimin has called him “mom” on multiple occasions. Also, he loves food. Like, first, he makes videos called “Eat Jin” where he just records himself eating. But also he’s a great cook. And like... he’s the kind of cook where it’s really intuition based. I feel like most Asian cooking isn’t really about recipes and more about feeling it out? But I’m still impressed during the rare opportunity I get to see him cook. He’s often shipped with Namjoon? And it’s like probably the most mutually agreed on ship, like I don’t know if it’s the most popular, but I don’t think anyone adamantly has ever disagreed with it. 
Yoongi/Suga: Okay, so Yoongi used to be my bias wrecker, and if anyone knows me, they know I’m loyal as hell to my biases, but like... I keep going back and forth between Yoongi and Namjoon because they’re both so great. But okay, so the thing about Yoongi is first, he’s an amazing rapper. I think Namjoon is more lyrically gifted, but I think Yoongi has a much better delivery if I’m being honest. You don’t have to understand what he’s saying to know how he’s feeling. His mixtape is straight bars, like fuck. Which is wild because Yoongi typically isn’t very expressive? He usually looks tired or bored, and he sounds tired or bored, all while giving these impressive one-liners. He’s got a dry, sarcastic sense of humor, that I’m obsessed with. He also is one of those people who acts grumpy when they’re secretly having a great time? So, like, a good moment of this was once the boys were all in Malaysia, and Yoongi was alone with the camera talking about the trip, saying all these good things like, “I really like it here. Did you know Malaysia doesn’t have any natural disasters? I think I will take my parents here.” And then as soon as other people shows up, he’s like, “Ugh, I guess it’s okay here, it’s not any better than any other resort I’ve been to.” LIKE WE ALL KNOW YOU’RE FULL OF BULLSHIT, YOONGI. He also cheats really blatantly during games. But he’s also super responsible? Like he watches over the money in the first Bon Voyage series. And he’s had to suffer a lot for his music. And he’s secretly the cutest little peanut ever, and you should love him, he deserves it.Also, he ships himself with Hoseok, so you should support their wonderful romance (I’m being a dweeb, but Yoongi really does make a big deal about it.)
Namjoon/Rap Monster/RM: My current bias wrecker. The love of my life. The leader of BTS. Namjoon is really lyrically gifted. He plays a big role in making most of BTS’s music. He has a baller mixtape. But I’m not here to talk about the musical genius that is Kim Namjoon (because I could go on for days). No. I need to talk about how big of a dork, Namjoon is. Because first, this kid is unbelievably klutzy. recently, he wasn’t able to dance in a concert because he stubbed his toe on a piece of hotel furniture and ripped off his pinkie toenail. Idiot. Also, I once watched him attempt to put on sunglasses and break them on his face. Just shattered them apart in his hands. He breaks everything he picks up. He breaks everything he leaves alone. He breaks the world. Once, he tried to cut an onion and did such a bad job that as a segment on a variety show, they asked him to cut an onion for the camera. Jin and Jimin had to step in to make sure he didn’t cut his fingers off. God bless. Also, okay, as the leader, he is so sweet about trying his best for the other members. He’s also not well known for dancing, but just like Jin, he’s doing much better! He and Jin usually get teased for having a relationship similar to a married couple. Also he was an underground rapper (so was Yoongi!) before BTS. Also he’s really obsessed with Ryan from Kakao! 
Hoseok/J-Hope/Hobi: I personally feel like Hoseok might be the most underrated member of BTS. Like... Jin doesn’t get recognition by the company, but I don’t feel like Hoseok gets recognition from the fans? But it’s more quiet. Idk. BOTH DESERVE MORE LOVE AND ATTENTION. ALL OF THEM DESERVE MORE LOVE AND ATTENTION. But okay, so that being said, Hoseok is the head dancer in BTS. He makes a lot of choreography decisions, and he’s also known as the “mood maker” of BTS, which is probably true. Like, Hoseok visibly cheers up the other members and he’s really vocal about supporting them, which is so cute. But when he’s mad, his mouth makes a triangle, and everyone is on edge. But because he’s usually pretty upbeat, he’s part of what’s called the “Sunshine Line” which is like... Hoseok, Taehyung, and Jimin, and it’s just the most smiley members of BTS. He’s also just like... so nice. And so funny. And I can’t emphasize how upbeat he is. Like fall in love with him, it’s easy. Also!!! He is same-age friends with Namjoon!!! And I just! Love! Their friendship! Please! Appreciate it! 
Jimin: Okay, the most precious wonderful, amazing boy in this world. Like, he has the cutest little baby hands, and the cutest little smile eyes, and the cutest little face. He’s short and he used to have super chubby cheeks, and he’s just an angel sent to us from above. (But also, don’t let him fool you, he’s kind of quick to be snappy or grumpy, and also he’s fast to make an innuendo or naughty joke, God bless. A demon in disguise.) Jimin used to be really insecure, and he’s still hard on himself. He also seems extroverted? And he talks a lot with the members, so I think it seems like he’s really outgoing, but you’ll see in interview and even on stage sometimes, he’s much shyer. He’s very nervous about performing, but does a bomb ass job, and like you’ll be surprised by how sexy this boy can be. Also he’s a phenomenal dancer and vocalist! 10/10 on both fronts.Also so you know in advance: Jimin used to love bothering Jungkook, and calling his name, and babying him, and being annoying. So a lot of people ship them together. But Jimin and Taehyung are also really close and same-age friends, so people ship them together. And people ship Taehyung and Jungkook together, so that’s a hot mess, and sometimes fans can get really angry about it. My advice if you want to ship within BTS is to ship everything, be impartial, and avoid the drama because it’s not worth it, especially when they’re all obviously close and best friends and none of them are actually dating. Also Yoongi/Jimin is a very popular pairing. It’s everywhere, but I don’t see it as much as some other people do? (But like I said, I multi-ship everything, so I’m not here to tell you it’s not a good ship. They all are. They’re all close, they’re all best friends, this is just for fun, and anything works.) 
Taehyung/V: THE VERY REASON I BREATHE. I THINK ABOUT HIM WHEN I’M AWAKE. WHEN I’M ASLEEP. ALL OF THE TIME. ALL OF THE TIME FOREVER. FOREVER AND EVER AND EVER AND EVER AND EVER AND EVER AND EVER. Okay, so Taehyung is the best, but he’s often gets distracted. When he’s talking or listening, you can literally see him stop paying attention and losing his place in the conversation. He makes weird comparisons. He finds weird things and carries them around. He’s a little out there, but in a really... eccentric, eclectic way? His style is super indicative of that. He’s into loud florals and cutting edge men’s fashion (but also he sometimes comes to events having just rolled out of bed in inside-out pants, so there’s that). Also he’s funny. Also he’s nice. Also he’s a cute little muffin, a muffin, a muffin, my baby. He’s really into jazz (he likes Chet Baker), and art (specifically Vincent Van Gogh and photography), and he’s learning to draw, and he’s a great actor who recently had a role in a K-Drama!I find myself having a difficult even talking about him because I’m too obsessed with him, so I’m just going to move on. But he’s really social, he makes lots of friends, and he’s both quiet and loud, like he has different personalities. Also if Taehyung starts crying, Jungkook will start crying, so watch out for that. (And Taehyung is kind of a crier, but to be fair, he’s having a crazy year.)
Jungkook: Head vocalist. Golden maknae. He’s the youngest of the group, and he’s bizarrely good at everything? Like once he had to take up archery for like... this little K-Pop olympics thing, and he got two bullseyes and one just outside the middle ring, like it was insane. He just picks up crap and is immediately good at it. He might be the youngest in the group, but he really likes acting older. Like, his favorite thing in the world (I CAN SEE IT IN HIS EYES) is when he beats the older boys at something and gets to give them a punishment, like I see you, Jungkook, I know you. I’m not sure if you follow me because you know BTS, but like... I think of him as Oikawa. Super talented. Super annoying. But even as I say that, he’s just... really objectively attractive. He’s also really adorable. He’s got little bunny teeth everyone says? So they’ll call him a bunny. He’s also usually everyone’s first favorite in BTS because he’s so good looking, and so good at everything, and has so many lines. But! It won’t take you long to realize he is a massive dweeb. He is really shy. He’s a muscle pig, he’s so strong. But like he’s dumb. Ugh. And he loves bowling? Like what a loser. I hate him. (But that’s a lie and I love him, I just refuse to admit it.) (But actually he says the cutest little things. Like once in this bon voyage episode, he was just like “I like this sweatshirt” and “I like hamburgers” and he just had all these happy things to say and he was holding hands with everyone, and like... a happy Jungkook is unreasonably adorable.) 
Okay, I need to stop talking, I hope this was in some way useful. 
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