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#my favourite tv show finished last week so I started doodling this before I even watched the last episode and then I’ve had a hell of a week
seagull-scribbles · 7 months
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I’m here
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shiteatinggrin · 4 years
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Hi, so this is my contribution to my first jilytober, I wrote some canon fic, it is kinda sad so I guess you could call this angst? I don’t know, I’m not that good at categorizing fic. Anyways, here is a love letter to James Potter from Lily Evans because he just died under her eyes. Wrote this fast, so I can’t vouch for the quality of this. This is almost 3k of Lily being a sap, so enjoy! Find it here on Ao3.
Bastard with a shit eating grin
Do you remember our first kiss? I can still feel the cold air of winter seeping through the walls of Greenhouse Number Three and you and I laughing together. It was not an unusual thing anymore, but some people could have been surprised, because we had had some big feuds over the years, the Dormitories Dashing and Destroying Disagreement, the Inflating Inner Ear Incident, the Flying Fiona Fight and the Severus Snape Saga consisting of the big highlights. However frustrating it was, we always had fun together, didn’t we?
Now we were falling in love dutifully without realising we had always been meant for each other in some way. I was all colors: glorious red hair, pink cheeks, pale green eyes and horrendously yellow socks. You were all teeth: shining smiles, arrogant smirking, belly-laughing in a silent room or grinding them in concentration for the task you were committing to (hyper-focusing on) at the moment.
‘Oi, Evans, can I copy your homework?’ You would say that practically every day.
‘How about a please, Potter? Might do you some good.’ You watched me smear some soil on my neck when I scratched it and said nothing. I discovered it in Transfiguration two hours later. Crazy how we can only remember the smallest details years later and the big things just go right over our heads. I could only ever remember the small details with you, because whatever we said to each other was never important, only the talking to you part was.
‘Oh Lily, dearest flower to my heart that I worship beyond any rainbow, might I please please please see your diligently done homework so that I can rewrite it because, being the idiot that I am, I was off gallivanting with Sirius yesterday instead of being a good student.’ You added pouts and made doe eyes for good measure as if I wouldn’t already have grabbed the moon from the sky’s grubby hands every night if you had asked it.
I would stifle a smile and put some piece of parchment in your extended hand without even looking, sometimes it was the homework if I was feeling generous, if I were more in a creative mood I might give you a stupid doodle or some kind of letter that would say something like: ‘Dear Prongs, you are an asshat. Looking forward to our rounds tonight so I can kick your ass in Gobstones. Now listen to Sprout, will you? Lily’ with a stupid heart over the i that basically meant PS: I love you. Finally, I’d say something like:
‘I would have laughed, but your head might inflate so much you’d have neck pain for a week.’
You let yourself smile then and continued to jest me, hoping to wrench a smile out of the beast (you always did it literally two minutes later, it is funny how easy it is to win when you give yourself such small tasks).
But that day, amazingly, we broke out of our routine.
At night we would always hang out together in the common room with our friends and slowly the people would fizzle out, having gone up to their dormitories and I would stay on the couch with the urge to kiss you with some dumb excuse not to leave on the tip of my tongue. I painted my nails or read some book or talked to you extensively about something I’d learned recently and you would listen with concentrated eyes and a much too easy smile.
Then you would start talking and when you started some story it would never finish, even now you can’t even recall something as simple as Harry’s first smile without going on for five full minutes without stopping. In these nights I would try to look like I wasn’t paying too much attention to you, like I was detached from everything pertaining to your person, but being young and in love doesn’t exactly give you the best skills in subtlety and so you would ask me if I was paying attention and I would blush and you would make some quip about redheads and their skins and everything would go back to normal.
And out of the blue, when I was talking about getting some sugar quills next time we were in Hogsmeade and how difficult the Ancient Runes paper was, you kissed me. Your hands flew to my hair and mine to cup your face and you pressed your body hard against mine. I’d never seen you so hungry for anything before, it seemed like you had been starving for a thousand years before our lips found each other. I had kissed three boys before you, and none of them could compare to the feeling of ecstasy of your mouth against mine. No one will ever compare to James Potter, right? That’s what you used to say in fourth year when you made a particular lucky goal in Quidditch or when you caught the Snitch in mid-air even though you were a Chaser and we were in Potions classf. Is it weird that I miss that?
I don’t think there ever was a time when I didn’t love you, all electric hair and much too quick brain and hundred stupid nicknames that didn’t mean anything unless you explained them in excruciating detail and you would smile too much and talk too loud and walk too fast and I wouldn’t feel so out of place with you because I did the exact same things. Petunia was always prim and proper and I always tried to be like her and please everyone but you taught me how to be myself and how to blossom into my personality without even knowing it. With you I’ve never been too much, I was always just enough.
Everything always came so easy to you, and I’ve always hated you for it. Now I think that I can’t appreciate enough how you could always share that with everyone around you, that incredible luck that could get you out of the worst of predicaments. I guess it all caught up to us today, but I don’t mind now. I’ll love you forever, come what may.
My heart is full of wanted posters of you: dead or alive.
I can’t remember the first time I’ve really noticed you, because you were always in the periphery, doing stupid things and getting in trouble and beaming for no reason at all and the memory of your presence was impossible to shake, but I still remember the first time we really became friends. We were fifteen by the lake and my best friend betrayed me under the glistening sun, the following day I had the worst grade in Transfiguration I’d ever gotten. You found me crying by a window on the fifth floor and apologized a hundred times (which I couldn’t have cared less at the moment), but you still went and talked to McGonagall and she agreed to let me retake the test in the afternoon and offered me a biscuit.
In seventh year, a girl told me that she was so jealous of the fact that I was the only one that could make James Potter change and mature. As if your life revolved around me. I thought of your sick father and the fact that Sirius had appeared on your front door one day and never left your house and with a twinge in my heart thought of the war coming and I couldn’t believe my ears. With all this going on, and she still thought you’d only change for a girl?
I’m not proud of this, but I might have shouted at her and maybe, perhaps I was the one that sent a silencing charm her way, but who could really tell? Not her, because her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth.
I wonder if I ever told you that. Probably, because you know everything interesting there is to know about me. You even know the most boring facts about me, because they amuse you just the same. You know I like peonies the best in spite of my name and that my first kiss was with Snape when I was eight, you know that I wiped my mouth right after and didn’t know yet what love was. You know that my favourite band is Hate Potion and that my guilty pleasure is Celestina Warbeck. You know that I wanted to name our son Harry because of a muggle TV show I used to watch with Petunia when I was seven on Saturday mornings and that when I fight my favorite charm is Expelliarmus. You were at my side when I killed my first (and last) Death Eater and that I cried for a week afterward. You comforted me for five hours when Marlene and her entire family were massacred in their own home, the same one where I had spent a good chunk of my summers to avoid Petunia. You know that I only ever paint my toenails blue and that my favorite flavour of ice cream is mint chocolate chip. You know all about my relationship with my sister and how she used to be my best friend and that we used to dance in bathing suits around the sprinkler and fake being witches to make potions out of mud and flowers and how she never forgave when this dream became true for me but not for her. You know all about my failed relationships, with Tuney, Sev and my ex-boyfriend who left me because he didn’t want to be associated with a muggleborn. You know I’m absolute shite at drawing and that I can’t dance to save my life and you laugh at me when I’m drunk and try to follow Peter’s choreography to some dumb song I don’t know. Last year, you helped paint flowers all over my bookcase because I wanted it to be unique and just mine.
When Harry was born, you refused to sleep for two days because he was so cute when he slept against your chest, but you finally fell asleep while cutting onions for dinner and I had to intervene.
One of my favourite things about you is that I have never seen anyone so full of life. You smile like nothing has ever gone wrong in your entire life and you are more loyal than any Hufflepuff I’ve ever seen, you would die for any of us in a heartbeat and we would do the same for you anytime. My love for you is so big I wonder how it even fits in our little house in Godric’s Hollow. You painted our walls burnt orange because you said it reminded you of my hair and I wonder if it is weird to fall in love with you even more over some colour choices. You complete me because as much as you are a complete idiot, you still recommend the best books and are smart enough to plan the best pranks, but too smug to make anyone else take the blame. You had always been my favourite person in the whole universe until Harry arrived, but he is so much like you that it is like meeting you at a much earlier age. He has the same laugh as you, you know?
I cannot believe how brave you are, because traditional courage requires you to go into battle and protect everyone you love like a lioness does her cubs, but you have found the energy to keep going even trapped in this house with an infant without being able to help your friends outside. You go everyday against your most basic instincts and you manage to have so much fun with us, but I see the tired bags under your eyes and the fact that you lose your train of thoughts sometimes and I know that you’re thinking about the war and the security of the boys, I know they are your family and it would kill you if one of them ever fell into battle, yet you never complain, yet you never lose hope. I love you so much my feeble heart can’t contain it all. My love for you is as inevitable as the blue of the sky, as the oxygen in our lungs, as the passage of time, I love you so much that when I see you it is like coming home, your wild hair and round glasses and mischievous eyes and soft voice and much too long limbs and wide chest and calloused hands and smile like an answer to all my problems.
No one has ever made me feel as secure as you and now I know I have to be strong for you, because you are the one that’s fallen, like a marionnette whose strings were cut. The coffee stain on the right arm of your shirt is the last thing I will see of you, or maybe it is a bit of your wild inky hair. I will never be able to look at the night sky the same.
I can hear him in the stairs, and all I can think about is you and Harry this morning, my two favourite people in the world, sat on the carpet and puffs of colour coming out of your wand, your laugh coming out of his mouth, one single tooth poking out, little chubby legs shaking from laughter, the wand you stupidly left on the carpet (the wand you didn’t care wasn’t in your hands because you didn’t care if you died, you just wanted us to live). Your last gift to me was the most precious of all: you gave me the time to say goodbye to Harry.
‘Mama loves you. Dada loves you, Harry.’ That is the only thing I find to say, because it is true and my heart is breaking, I can hear it thundering, collapsing like a dying star, you are dead, I will die, Harry has to live. I cannot withstand the thought.
I have never loved anyone better than the two of you. Apparently I never will, but at least I have known real love, the one that comes from daily life, that never dies because it is kept alive by stupid little things that make us who we are. Crazy how we only remember the little things and the big ones just go right over our heads.
I will remember the smallest things about you, like the little scar in your left eyebrow, the weird placement of your thumb on your wand, the feel of your skin against mine and the way it tanned in the summer while mine just became redder and redder, the sound of your laugh when Sirius said something funny and the way you always pushed your glasses up your nose with your middle finger, the way you sit in any chair like it’s a throne, the way you answered questions in class without raising your hand, the way you held a book open when you were reading it, your last day where you wanted to make pasta and I wanted steak, the way you would mess with your hair not because you thought it would make you look like you just stepped off your broom, but because you were nervous or restless. On your good days it would stand flatter on your head and I had to pass my hand through it because otherwise it just didn’t feel like you. You laughed too much when Sirius decided to read Crime and Punishment to Harry as a bedtime story and your son wouldn’t go to sleep. You would tell him stories of your childhood disguised as muggle magical adventures and I became a knight, Sirius a prince and Snape a dragon. You would call my cat Fiona the ginger cat, as if Fiona wasn’t enough and she needed an extra title. I guess she was royalty after all. You always tried to make me believe that she loved you more than me, even though I’d had her since I was eleven and you once made her fly across the common room just to annoy me.
Do you remember this morning? The last time you ever kissed me? You made me eggs and tea for breakfast and sang some Beatle song for me in the most off-key voice. You stole the bacon from my plate, laughing from across the dinner table. I was so happy because you were in a good mood today, you didn’t seem to feel so trapped and it was Halloween and you were trying to convince me to dress Harry up as a muggle magician, which I thought was the worst joke you’d ever made. You kissed me on the mouth and we settled on a pumpkin costume. Your lips tasted of stolen bacon and orange juice (you’ve never been much of a morning tea person).
I have never loved anyone better, and apparently I never will.
The house is so silent now that you are gone. All I can hear are my own ragged breaths. Harry seems to think this is some kind of game. He is all that we have left now. All that will ever be left of us. To love is to create, right? We have created the most beautiful person in the world, it should be the only thing that counts.
I love you. I could try to make this poetic, the love thing, but I think the most poetic way it can be is on its own. I don’t know any words more powerful than I love you. I love you and you are dead. I love you and I will die soon. I love our son and he will live. Life is as simple as that. I love you and soon we’ll be together again. Miss you already.
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musictrash0426 · 3 years
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Killing Stalking
 My name is Elizabeth Stevens, I’m 17 and it is one month until my senior year of highschool. Most of my friends are going crazy trying to plan out their futures. However, unlike my peers, I've known what I've wanted to be since I was 13. I want to be an artist, my parents fully support my decision which is nice. They have bought me plenty of professional quality supplies since my 14th birthday when they saw all the hard work I put into my art. I've even started selling prints of my work on Redbubble. I also have quite the following 
Overall I live in a pretty good neighbourhood. It has great people, including my best friend Kai who lives a few streets over. My family and I live in a pretty large house. It has three floors which is a little big if you ask me. There are only the three of us living here, me, mom and dad. But with that being said my parents gave me the entire basement on my 13th birthday. They also helped me set up every room down here the way I want. Not much has changed, even after being down here for four years..
When you come down the stairs you are greeted with my lounge area. Where  we have a couch, tv, game system, large bookshelf and some other things. Next we have my room where I have a fairly minimal look. I have a large bed, large dresser, a walk in closet, and my vanity where I do my makeup. The next room is probably my favourite; it's my art studio. Like I said my parents have supported me over the years so I have a lot of supplies. Honestly I couldn't be more grateful for them and everything they’ve given me. I have a full easel, desk, and a lot of supplies, markers, colour pencils, paint (water, acrylic, oils), alongside my new drawing tablet.
This morning when I got up, I went to my art room and started sketching. I've gotten into this habit as it helps me get into a creative mindset, along with getting into drawing for the day. Once I stop doodling I start to make a list of the things of supplies I had recently run out of. 
As I was about to leave, I asked my parents if they needed anything. My mom told me to get her a drink from Starbucks on my way home as she knows I’m planning on going there anyways. 
I get into my car and drive to the art store. Luckily this store is only 10 minutes from my house. I walk into the store and look for the supplies on my list. While going through the store, grabbing the things I needed, I decided I also wanted to try out a new paint while I was here. I got some winsor and newton acrylics in red, blue,yellow, sienna, black and white along with some mixing pallets. I also got a canvas as I want to make a large painting later. 
My mom texted me asking if I could pick up milk and eggs. So I ran into the supermarket and picked up the few things she wanted. I then went to starbucks, got both my parents, and myself a few drinks, and went home. 
I got out of my car balancing shopping bags on my arm,the drinks in my hand and I went inside. I put the milk and eggs in the fridge, gave my parents their drinks and made my way down to my art room to put my supplies away. I started brainstorming ideas of what I want to paint and I finally came up with a concept I liked. I open my sketchbook and I start to draw the rough copy of the picture before blowing it up on the canvas and painting it. While I am drawing out the picture I'm watching lavendertowne’s creepypastas series as it's one of my favourites on youtube. 
In my concentration, I lose track of time, and before I know it it’s 4:30 pm. My mom walks to my art room saying her and dad are going on a trip for the next week. So I get the house to myself, which is cool. I've been home alone before. “Elle, you can have Kai over to stay for the week if you want.” mom said. “Also I transferred some money into your account so you and Kai can just order some food if you guys get hungry.” 
“Thanks mom,” I say “ I love you.”
“Love you too sweetie.” 
I walk upstairs with mom as her and dad are about to leave. I hug them goodbye and tell them to have a safe trip. 
I decide to take mom up with her offer and invite Kai over for the week. Lately I haven't been wanting to be home alone. So I called him and he said he’d be over in 10 minutes. 
I grab a glass of water and wait, before I knew it there was a knock on my door and it was Kai. I give him a hug and he smiles. 
“It’s like we haven't seen each other in a while.” Kai teases me. We saw each other yesterday and I called him late last night because I just wanted to talk to someone. 
Kai has literally been my best friend since we were both in diapers. Our moms grew up together so it was bound to happen that we would too. He’s my biggest support system, he’s one of the only people who know how I got into art. I watched a lot of anime growing up, I still do, and the art style is what got me into wanting to be an artist. 
“Have you started a new piece yet?” Kai asked 
“Yeah I have! And I just finished the rough copy” I say.
“Can I watch you work on it?” 
“Of course you can silly,” I say with a grin. I show Kai the canvas to let him gauge what I’ve been working on. 
“It looks really good!” But his face saddens a little bit. “Are you doing alright?” I give him a confused look. “You tend to draw horror pieces when you're trying to get yourself into a better place.” 
Horror pieces are my favourite to draw. I don't have an explanation for it, but I've always liked them. Maybe it's because I loved horror shows growing up but who knows. I look back at all my works and Kai’s right. I tend to do these pictures more when I'm not the best headspace. 
“You really know me, at this point it's mostly subconscious” I laugh “I was also watching creepypasta videos so the idea could have come from that. Anyways, what do you think about it so far?” 
“I love it of course!” Kai says
I work on transferring it onto the canvas and after about 2 hours the pencil sketch is laid out. Once that's done we decide to go to the movies. We went and saw whatever Kai wanted to see. He picked some rom com which I wasn't mad at as I enjoy these types of movies. 
After the movie we went to a sushi place for dinner. I wasn't that hungry so I got the rest of mine to go. Then we went to the supermarket to get some candy and pop for tonight. We decided that we were going to stay up quite a bit of the night so I can work on my artwork and we can just talk about life and stuff. We pull into the parking lot and head inside. This store is open 24/7 so we have plenty of time to get our stuff, but still it is 11:30pm and something makes the air feel very eerie tonight. 
After walking around the store Kai and I look at eachother and we both feel like something is off because this uneasy feeling Kai and I hurry up and grab what we wanted. Kai and I decided to pick up Sour Patch Kids, gummy bears and some chips. We then went into the drink aisle where I picked out Dr. Pepper, and ginger ale. Kai picked out diet Pepsi and cream soda. We picked out the four flavours that we both love. We then decided to get a tub of cotton candy ice cream. As we were turning there was this lady who crashed her cart into ours as we were on our way to check out. I looked up and noticed that it was the same lady that had been in each aisle with us, which honestly didn’t make any sense as we just went to the isles we needed. 
We check out of the store and head back to the car. After putting everything in the trunk of the car, I look up and see the same woman still there. What the fuck?
“Hey Kai, can you take the cart back please?” He nods and I get into the car and lock it. 
I hear a knock that startles me and I look up. It was just Kai. I unlocked the door and he got in. “Wanna tell me why you had the door locked Elle?”
I look over and the woman gets into the car next to us oh great my horror brain made something out of nothing. She was also probably having a movie night with some of her friends.
“It’s nothing Kai, I think I’m just psyching myself out.”
“Okay.” With that we drove back to my place right in the nic of time too as it just started to rain. We shut off all the lights and lock the doors and windows upstairs. We head back down to my studio and I set up everything to begin painting.
I wanted something in the background while I was working so I put on Another. Kai and I have already watched it a few times but we didn’t want to start something new since I wouldn't be able to give it my full attention. Also it's a horror anime so it will put me in the mood for my painting.
I looked down at the outline I drew; it was a girl who had gone psychotic and had a knife in her hand. My plan is to add blood to her once the painting is completely dry, but first I start by painting the eyes. When they are finished they look very dead and already mentally gone inside. I take a break and lay my head on Kai’s shoulder.
“Tired?” he asks me.
“No, I just wanted a break.” We continue watching the anime after two more episodes. There was a bang of thunder and a flash of lightning, I looked out the small window and saw what looked to be a figure of a woman. I looked back to get a better look but she's gone. I must just be seeing things.
I brush it off then get back to my painting. About an hour later I finish painting the skin and I see another flash out of the corner of my eye. I think to myself how odd that is  because there was no thunder. I brushed it off as the volume of the show probably just covered the sound. I decided to be done with painting for the night, so we moved out into the lounge area and continued watching Another. There was another flash and in the window we saw her. The woman from the supermarket was in my window.We were going to call the cops then with another flash she's gone.
We decided we couldn't take anymore horror tonight so we put on Ouran Highschool Host Club a few hours later we were on the episode where a character named Tamaki was trying to figure out his friend Haruhi’s biggest fear. When we see a flash of lightning in the episode, it also flashes here, and we see her silhouette again and she vanishes with the lightning once more. 
Creeped out we went to my room and lay in bed, I cuddled into Kai because honestly I was shaking and needed comfort.
In the morning Kai and I woke up to banging on the door. I checked the time and it was 8:30 am. We got up and checked no one was there, but there was an envelope that said Elizabeth Steevens and Kai Kalua I brought it inside.
“Ummmm Kai?”
“Yeah?”
I turn the envelope to show him. We were both scared and didn't know what to do. We opened it and there were at least 40 photos of us, starting from when we were coming out of the movie. There were photos of us at the sushi restaurant, the grocery store, and the worst ones of all the ones that were taken looking into my house. Ones of us in my art room, in the lounge, and ones of us asleep in my bed.
Panicked, I call the police and they tell us to come down to the station. Since neither of us knew the woman's name they said there was nothing they could really do for us except to have us tell them if something else happens. Some help they were, I thought.
Kai and I went back to my studio and I continued working on the piece. This time our show of choice was Miria Nikki. As I was painting the hair I saw another flash and considering what happened last night we decided to go to my parents office and check the security cameras and lo and behold she's there on the property.
“Kai whats that in her hand?”
“I don’t know,”
I looked closer and saw that it was a knife. We once again called the police and this time they came, but hearing a car must have scared her. They came inside and asked to watch the cameras with us. Only this time she was at the back door that's connected to the kitchen and of course I happened to leave it unlocked…
“Oh Elizabeth, Kai, come out come out wherever you are..” The woman sang out menacingly. Her voice rang through the house loudly causing me to look to one of the officers for advice
He nods for Kai and I walk out.
“There you two are,”
“Do we know you?” I ask, genuinely confused as to who this woman is.
“Yeah I don't know who you are either.” Kai said just as confused.
“I'm Chloe. I am in your art class.” She says.
We were both confused; we don’t remember having ever seen her before. Our art class had six people in it, us two, three other of our friends and some weird girl who doesn't talk to anybody.
“... you’re the weird girl in our class aren’t you?” Kai questions.
“What did you call me?” She asked with a defensive tone.
“What did you expect him to say, you literally refuse to talk to us. Then whenever the teacher praises my work, you get angry. Besides who goes around taking pictures of people in their own house! That is fucking creepy.” I say
“I get angry because you always get the spotlight! Give someone else a turn.”
“Elle gets the attention because she actually shows her artwork, you just sit in the back of the class and do nothing. If you want attention why ignore us when we try talking to you? What is your problem? And why do you have a knife?” You can tell Kai is starting to lose patience with the situation, as his questions get increasingly aggressive.
“So I can get rid of my competition,” she smiles sweetly.
“What competition? There is no competition Chloe” I ask 
“What competition? I have liked Kai forever!” Chloe says frustrated, slightly getting closer to the two of them with the knife.
Kai puts one hand out towards her, while using the other to pull me back with him a couple steps, creating distance between her and I before he speaks again.“I will never like you. Besides there is only one person I like, and hate to break it to sweetheart but it's not you.” This makes me curious who Kai was referring to.
“Then who is it then?” she asks angrily
That's when Kai kissed me. I kissed him back, albeit slightly flustered. This caused Chloe to become enraged, she came towards us with the knife and that's when the cops came out and told her to put the knife down. She complied and dropped the knife as she didn’t realize that the police were here. 
One of the two cops took her away as the other came and told us they were going to hold her and do a mental assessment on her. He also checked to see if Kai and I were okay. After we tell him we are he also leaves, leaving Kai and I alone to deal with this new revelation.
“Do you actually like me? Or were you just saying that to get her to stop…” anxious about the answer since I have liked Kai for a while, but didn't want to make things awkward with him.
“Elle I have liked you for a while but I didn't want to lose you.” Kai says as he pulls me closer to him.
I don't know how to respond, all my mind was telling me was ‘kiss him’. I pull him in by his shoulders to another kiss, quickly dispelling doubts either of us had. Kai placed his hands on my waist and melted into it. He pulls away and leans his forehead against mine, just holding me. For the first time in a few days I felt safe.
“Kai?” I ask in a quiet tone almost a whisper.
“Yeah sweetheart?” 
“Can you stay while my parents are gone?” I don’t feel safe enough to be home alone, and you wanted to stay in the comfort that he gave you.
“Of course I can angel.”
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kumeko · 4 years
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A/N: I’m having fun writing this. Part 3 of the  @marveltrumpshate fic I wrote for @wombatking
Summary: There was something luxurious about waking up at 7:30am, to an empty room, with an empty bathroom, and the kitchen all to herself. Kitty hit the jackpot.
There was something luxurious about waking up at 7:30am. Absolutely luxurious. Kitty wanted nothing more than to sprawl over her bed, languidly stretching before she finally rolled off. Unfortunately, her right leg was a dead weight to all of this, so she had to settle for lazily yawning and spreading her arms above her. The birds had been awake for hours, her dormmates equally so, and she had the most glorious sleep. She hadn’t even noticed when Rogue had left for training, her roommate for once not waking her up with her extensive morning prep.
 For a girl who claimed that she didn’t care what others thought of her, she spent an awfully long time in front of the mirror. Kitty chuckled at the thought. Rogue was full of strange contradictions and the more she learned, the more she liked. It was strange to think that at one point they’d fought like cats and dogs.
 Well, if Kitty were honest, they still fought sometimes now, but they always made up after.
It was harder than she expected, to get off the bed. Her leg felt weird, her movements even more so—her legs didn’t feel in sync, her left far too light and quick, her right too slow and heavy. Walking was a strange hop and dance. Dressing even more so. She half-wished she had Velcro pants, like the ones Spike used for his stupid “my pants ripped off!” joke. The only problem was that they were ugly. On the bright side, she was more than used to putting a little pain in for her fashion.
 As she passed by a window, she caught sight of Jean and Amara running through the obstacle course, sweaty and tired. “Glad that’s not me,” she murmured, grinning as she stepped into the for-once-empty bathroom.
 She’d been wrong. The best part of her broken leg wasn’t sleeping in, it was the fact that there was no rush. No one knocked on the door, asking her to get out. Kitty didn’t have to bounce impatiently on her feet, waiting for the door to open so she could rush in. Nope, the bathroom was all hers, for however long she wanted.
 So was the kitchen, so was the tv—if she’d realized how good it was, she’d have broken her leg ages ago. Maybe in six weeks she could break the other one. Chewing on a piece of toast, she idly flipped through the channels. News, weather, Say Yes to the Dress, Psycho—
 “Ready to go?” Scott said, suddenly appearing behind her.
 Kitty almost dropped her toast, surprised.  Instinctively, she turned off the TV, flushing a bright red. “I, that—” She wasn’t even sure why she was feeling flustered. This was fine! Technically allowed! No one expected otherwise!
 Yet it was one thing to relax when no one was around, and another to do it in front of her slightly sweaty housemate. Scott’s hair might be carefully combed, but his skin still had a light sheen to it from all the exercise. Noticing her stare, he cocked his head. “What’s wrong?”
 He’d always been a slightly dense brick. Fighting back her embarrassment, Kitty scarfed down her toast and stood up. “N-nothing. Let’s go.”
 “Alright then. I pulled my car up front, so just slip in.” Scott picked up her backpack and slung it over his shoulder. “You know, instead of a reality show, you should try watching the news.”
 If Kitty could have, she would have stomped to the car.
 -x-
 “Hey girl!” Kitty got no other warning before a pair of slightly tanned arms wrapped around her neck, hugging her tight. Tabitha pressed her cheek against Kitty’s, her messy hair tickling her neck. As usual, her perfume was as loud as she was. “Heard you got hurt.”
 “Tabitha!” Kitty laughed, leaning into her friend. She’d been getting lonely anyways, sitting in the playground as she was. Kurt had gone to get lunch and unfortunately the track team wasn’t practicing, so she couldn’t even stare at them. “Did Amara tell you?”
 “Didn’t have to, I have eyes.” Tabitha let go and rested her hands on her hips. “I hear Blue is now two for two for training accidents?”
 “It was my fault this time, not his.” Kitty rubbed her neck sheepishly. To be honest, the other time hadn’t been entirely his fault either—Tabitha had a little to do with it. Gesturing at her leg, she explained, “I broke my leg, so now I’ve got that ugly thing.”
 “I know training sucks, but I didn’t think you’d go that far to get out.” Tabitha whistled as she saw the cast. “Damn, that’s clunky.”
 “I know, right! It’s like I have snowpants or something.” Kitty rapped on the top of her cast. “It’s so thick! I don’t want to know what’ll smell like after all of this heat.”
 “You’re lucky it isn’t summer, or you’d be roasting in it.” Tabitha scrunched her nose, her lips curling with disgust. “Broke my arm once, on a job, and not only was I utterly useless after, I reeked like Toad.”
 “Seriously?” Kitty didn’t have to ask to know what sort of ‘job’ she was referring to. Wincing, she looked at her cast again. Tabitha had to be exaggerating, right? “It’s not that bad, right? I can’t get it off for six weeks. I don’t want to deal with smell on top of everything.”
 “Just spray some perfume on it.” Tabitha winked. She mimed spraying it on. “Works like a charm.”
 “Eww.” Kitty glared at the offending cast, her heart sinking. Just how stinky could the thing get? She groaned. “So either I smell like Toad or a flowershop.”
 “Hey, the choice is yours.” Tabitha grinned, shrugging. “I bet Logan won’t like either smell.”
 “I don’t think Rogue or Kurt will like it either.”  Resigning herself to her fate, she hoped they’d still hang around her after six weeks were up.
 “Cheer up, it’s not that bad. You get a lot of sympathy goodies.” Tabitha crouched next to the cast, a marker in hand. She started doodling something, just out of Kitty’s sight. “People open doors for you, give you seats, sometimes even food—”
 “You shouldn’t eat things strangers give you,” Kitty warned, worried about that last one. Sometimes, she was amazed Tabitha made it to high school. More often, though, she was impressed the school hadn’t burned to the ground multiple times, considering her short temper. “And what’re you drawing?”
 “You’ll see!” Tabitha replied cheekily, her brow furrowed as she finished her masterpiece.
 Kitty rolled her eyes. “Fine, keep your secrets.”
 “I’m pretty good at that, ask anyone.” Tabitha smirked up at her. “How’re the geeks taking this? Bet Logan ain’t happy.”
 “They’re like, the only bad part.” Kitty grimaced, remembering Scott’s lectures. And she had to get a ride from him for the next six weeks—her mornings were going to be so ruined. “I swear, Scott and Jean won’t shut up about it, and Logan’s just counting down the days till he can make me suffer again.”
 Tabitha stood up now, laughing. “Sounds like ‘em.” Hand on her hip, she gave her a wry look. “Honestly, you should just ditch that whole scene and join me. It might not be the best place to stay, but it’s the funnest.”
 There was absolutely no way Kitty was staying in that rundown house the brotherhood claimed was ‘livable’. She’d been there a handful of times, and each time she wasn’t sure how the place hadn’t been torn down. At the very least, it had to be filled with lice or something. “I’m not that desperate.”
 “Yet.” Tabitha pocketed her marker and waved before waltzing away. “Lemme know if you change your mind.”
 “Not happening!” Kitty laughed, watching as a garbage bin exploded.
 -x-
 Kitty lay on her bed, examining her cast by her tablelamp light. It was, perhaps, the first time she’d gotten to use that thing without having to cram for a test or something. Today was actually full of firsts—she finished her homework without having to rush, she had dinner on time, and hey, she saw an episode of her favourite drama on time instead of catching a rerun.
 Even now, she was lying in her bed, at 11pm, and not bone-tired for once. Across the room, Rogue snored lightly as she slept, too tired from training to complain about the light. The house was utterly silent at that this time and if it weren’t for the lights-out rules, she’d have snuck around to see just how different the house was at night.
 For now, she bent over her cast, running her fingers along the different signatures she’d collected. After Tabitha had signed it, the rest of her friends popped in, one after another, all ready to make a mark. The once white cast was now a collage of signatures and messages. Rogue had written her name in purple ink, with nothing else added to it, and Kitty couldn’t figure out if it was because she didn’t have anything she wanted to write, or if it was because she was too embarrassed to put anything.
 Feel better soon, Honey, Kurt had written in blue ink, and Kitty smiled as she pressed her fingers on the pink heart he’d drawn beside his name. It was utterly cheesy, but she liked that about Kurt.
 There was a picture of a grumpy Logan next to Spike’s name, and Kitty covered her mouth to muffle her laughter. He was a terrible artist, and that only made it funnier. Logan was either a furious hedgehog or he was some new evolution of a bear. Definitely not human, at the very least.
 Finally finished with all the easy to read signatures, Kitty leaned forward and strained her neck to see what was on the back of her cast. More importantly, to see what Tabitha had spent so long drawing. Biting her tongue and squinting, she could just make out the picture.
 It was a dick.
 Of course it was. She flopped back on her bed, and silently swore revenge.
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jamesbvck · 6 years
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change your mind | three
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (Modern AU, High School!Bucky) Summary: Senior Year: the last year to be a somebody or a nobody. A chance to fall in love, ace that final exam and make memories. After a terrible first impression, Bucky makes it his mission to fix the mistake he made with the new girl. Will they get their chance? Warnings: swearing, fluff A/N: Let’s break the ice, shall we? :D Feedback in encouraged!
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The nippy November weather swooped in too suddenly. The morning walk to school was now accompanied with frosty grass and biting winds. The leaves were beginning to dwindle from the branches of the trees, collecting in large piles on sidewalks and in front yards. It was perfect that the cafeteria was open before first period so you could grab something warm to drink and a muffin then head to class. The cooler weather also gave you an excuse to wear your big comfy sweaters too. It felt like you were wrapped up in a blanket every day.
Upon arriving at school you made a B-line to the cafeteria. There were a few students sitting at a table scribbling in last minute assignments before the bell rang. You walked into the separate small food room and grabbed a paper cup, filling it with hot chocolate and capping it with a lid. To your surprise the pastries were of low quantity and there weren’t any banana chocolate chip muffins left. There must have been a rush earlier. Nothing else looked too appealing, so you gave the cashier two dollars before heading to your locker. You stripped off your jacket, hanging it up along with your backpack. The warning bell rang and you took your history books before locking up.
You weaved through peers to enter Pierce’s classroom, ducking out of the way as one of the boys in your class attempted to toss a balled up piece of paper into the trash while claiming he was Steph Curry, shooting a three. Placed in the middle of your desk was an untouched, fresh banana chocolate chip muffin. You tipped your head, eyes moving to see Bucky at his spot next to yours. His textbook was open along with his notebook and he was jotting down some words. He had his own muffin and a bottle of orange juice in front of him. Slowly you approached the desks, taking the muffin and sat down.
“It was the last one in the caf, figured I’d get it for you before it was taken.”
Bucky didn’t look up from his work, messily scratching out a few words before continuing on. You set your books down and nodded. “How’d you know this was the kind I liked?” You asked.
“It’s the only one with a purple wrapper. They colour code the different flavours,” Bucky finally looked to you, sleepy half smile lining his lips. “Blue is blueberry for obvious reasons.” He used the end of his pen to point to his breakfast item.
You nodded, flipping open your notebook to a fresh page. “Not to mention you’ve gotten that muffin every day for the last two weeks.” Bucky added a moment after.
The second bell rang and Pierce sharply walked into class. The door closed leaving two students stranded in the hallway and ultimately a detention for ‘being late.’ Pierce never seemed to give kids much of a second chance which made him more terrifying than he already was. You weren’t sure how you made it two months in. It wasn’t that his class was difficult, it was more of actually paying attention and writing shit down because the tests and pop quizzes were always so unexpected.
Silently you peeled off the wrapper as Pierce began his class for the day: World War 2, Cause and Effect. The class felt never-ending. You doodled on the margins of your notebook, half day dreaming and mostly trying not to nod off in fear of the wrath you would incur. Bucky stayed rather mute as well, only poking you when you hadn’t finished your muffin and he was clearly still hungry. He happily took the rest and inhaled it within two seconds.
“You will pair up and choose a topic from the list being passed around,” Pierce handed the girl in the front row a stack of papers and she handed them behind her to go around the room. “Tomorrow you will tell me your partner and topic, one topic per pair. Then you will write an 1500 word, double spaced one sided essay about said topic, cause and effect. How did this certain situation affect America during this time?”
You took the paper and handed the rest over to Bucky. There was a list: Propaganda, Art, Clothing, Women in Warfare, it went on in two columns. The bell rang for the end of class with Pierce instructing everyone to pick up their last test that had been marked. You packed up and rose, finding yours at the front table easily. A ninety-two percent was more than enough for you considering you thought you botched the long answer.
Barely down the hallway, a hand caught your elbow and twisted you back. “Be my partner.”
“What? No way.” You shook off Bucky’s hand, shaking your head.
“Come on, you’re like the second smartest person in class.”
Your brows rose. “Who’s the first?”
“Me,” Bucky said in an obvious tone. He flipped his test around to show you his ninety-six percent grade in red marker. You rolled your eyes. “So you know I’m not gonna flake on you.”
Bucky had a point. At least you could maybe get this done in an efficient amount of time. And you already knew him, you didn’t have to make awkward conversation with someone else.
“Fine,” you caved. “We’re doing Propaganda.”
“Cool by me. We can start on it after school if you want, no practice today and we can finish before the weekend.” Bucky proposed.
“Got yearbook with Peggy but after?”
He agreed, “Yeah, sure. I gotta watch my sisters so you can come over.”
Your stomach flipped with immediate nerves. His house? A library wasn’t suitable? Then again was he really going to drag his sisters to the library? That’d most likely be worse. So you nodded, mindlessly agreeing even though there was caution coursing through you.
You parted for second period and joined Steve in English Lit. He shared a lemon loaf his mother had made with you which was beyond delicious. Hey, at least there were more treats to calm your overthinking and Coulson’s class was a breeze anyway.
Your phone buzzed in the middle of class, a new text message popping up on the screen. Unknown number but you had a hunch. You turned your phone to Steve who confirmed your suspicion.
“Sam have your number?” He asked, you nodded. “Probably gave it to Buck. They have second period together.”
“Bucky and I are partners for a history project.”
Steve’s left brow shot up. “Really?” His voice trailed as if he wanted to say some more but he refrained.
“Really, really.” You punched in Bucky’s name as an new contact, swiping to open the text.
Bucky Barnes: 1423 Westmount Blvd. Bucky Barnes: Figured that’d be helpful.
Your eyes rolled, typing back.
You: Damn was hoping to use a phone book for reverse search.
You watched as the tiny blue checkmark popped up in the corner of your message. Bucky had his read receipts on.
Bucky Barnes: Do those still exist?
It was unclear how you got trapped in a ten minute text conversation about phone books, but it happened. Mr Coulson politely asked you to put your phone away which you obliged and apologized. You zipped your phone in your pencil case, feeling it vibrate against the desk with another reply from Bucky.
Your nerves continued to flourish in your stomach throughout the day. Yearbook motored on by organizing the pictures from school events and Peggy had you designing layouts for Thanksgiving and Christmas. You were one of the last ones in the room with Peter Parker finishing printing his high resolution photos.
“Those look great, Pete.” You scanned over some scattered pictures on the desks. “You have a talent.”
He laughed softly, awkwardly. “Uh, thanks! Think these are some of my favourite, too.”
You brushed aside a few seeing a couple snapshots of Becca Barnes. You smiled, recalling how Peggy said Peter had a crush. “Don’t stay too late.” You told him, heaving your backpack onto your shoulders.
Peter waved as you left the room, starting your journey to Westmount Boulevard. The walk was a little farther than you believed, definitely your full exercise for the week. You looked up and down the street as you walked. The houses were a little bigger than your neighbourhood but it was nothing like where Tony Stark resided. You counted the house numbers before walking up neatly laid stepping stones to the dark wooden door of the colonial home. The garden was immaculate and Bucky’s Jeep sat in the long driveway. You stood on the porch, breathing in before knocking three times. There was shuffling on the other side, the lock twisting and door opening. Bucky stood with a granola bar in hand, chewing.
“Hi,” he mumbled, sliding away shoes to the side with his foot. He was in sweatpants and a basic navy shirt, opposed to his jeans and green shirt from earlier in the day.
You stepped inside and removed your shoes and coat. Bucky took it and placed it over the banister of the stairs. You only got a quick glimpse of the Barnes home but it was like looking in a home magazine; rustic yet contemporary. It was perfect but did feel well lived in.
You followed Bucky upstairs. Passing by the first bedroom the walls were lavender and there were two beds on either side of the room. The second room had music coming from it and the B on the door definitely indicated Becca was behind the closed door. There was a master on the other side of the hall and finally Bucky’s in the back. He pushed opened the door revealing a rather tidy bedroom. He had some posters, a TV on a dresser and a PS4 connected with a game in pause. His desk next to the window had papers, books and his laptop. Bucky left the door half open, sinking down into his desk chair.
“Kinda glad you chose propaganda. Did a project on it in the tenth grade, too.” Bucky swivelled around to log into his computer.
You slid off your backpack, still a little uneasy being in the house. Realistically there was nothing to fret about yet you couldn’t help but feel out of place. You moved and sat on the end of his bed, unzipping your bag and took out what you needed.
“So,” you finally spoke. “I guess we should start with what is propaganda and how was it conveyed to the public.”
“Radio, television, leaflets, posters,” Bucky listed. “It portrayed a way Americans should think and see of the war, a way to persuade opinions.”
You wrote as Bucky rambled. Surprisingly it was good enough to form a base of the essay hitting basic points and facts. He pulled up Victory Poster images and Careless Talk counterparts; know about the war, help your husbands, brothers and sons, talk about the war yet be cautious of spies. He knew a lot of stuff. You had moved to sit on the floor, back pressed against the bed as you used your knees to hold up your notebook and write. This was going way more smoothly than you could have imagined.
Bucky faced you, feet up on his bed as a footrest. He tossed a hand exercise ball up into the air and caught it a few times. He stopped, glancing over to the door. You followed his gaze seeing a smaller human hovering just outside in the hallway.
“Come here, Jules.”
The door was pushed opened slightly more revealing the littlest Barnes. Her dark hair waved down just past her shoulders, eyes sharp blue just like Bucky’s. She had her math workbook hugged to her chest and a pencil in hand. She looked sweet but shy and suddenly you felt bad for making her feel like that in her own home. She eyed you closely while she crossed the room to her brother.
“This is Julia,” Bucky introduced. “My most normal and favourite sister.” He proceeded to introduce you and Julia gave a wave before showing Bucky her math homework she needed help with. “I’m going to help her with this for a sec.”
It really wasn’t an issue. If it were you, you’d choose to help an angel face like Julia before anything else. You slid your textbook to yourself, flipping through the pages.
Julia sat on Bucky’s lap, showing him the fractions she had to calculate. You couldn’t help but watch for a few moments. Bucky was a natural teacher explaining to her the numerators and denominators, and how to simplify the equations.
“How many times does two go into two?” Bucky asked.
“One.” Julia’s voice was soft and small.
“Right! And how many twos go into six?”
Julia took a moment and used her fingers to do quick math. “Three.”
Bucky picked up her pencil and scribbled down some numbers. “So it’s one over three. Do you wanna do another one?”
She nodded and they proceeded to practice two more equations before Julia felt confident enough to continue on her own. Bucky promised that after dinner he’d look over the rest of her work although he was certain all the answers would be correct. She hopped off his lap, the tiniest satisfied smile on her face.
She skipped to the door before turning back around. “Can I go get a cookie?” She asked Bucky.
“Only if Abby doesn’t see, and bring us one.”
Julia nodded frantically before taking off down the hall and stairs. You laughed lightly, turning back to look at Bucky.
“How old is she?” You asked.
“Ten,” he replied. “She’s a little shy at first but she’s great. A funny kid.”
“Abby is your other sister?”
He nodded. “She must be in the den or something. She just turned thirteen and she’s been arguing with my parents how she should have her own room like Becca.”
Julia was dashing back into the room in no time. She handed you a chocolate chip cookie and one to Bucky as well. “She didn’t see!” Julia mumbled through cookie bites. Her and Bucky exchanged a high five before she was bustling out of the room again.
Perhaps you sized Bucky up too quickly, or maybe there were two sides to him. There was the Bucky that pulled you out of the haunted house when you were scared, the guy who bought you a damn muffin and helped his little sister with homework. But then there was the other Bucky, the drunk side who was a douche and the athlete that knew he was hot shit at school. You couldn’t decipher him, he was a puzzle.
“Mommy’s home!” Julia called out. You could hear her feet stamp down on the steps as she ran downstairs again. Bucky glanced towards the door again and you felt the nerves return to your body.
“I should go. I think we have enough stuff that I can start an outline.” You mumbled, closing your books and shoved them into your bag. You’d only been there just over an hour but there was progress made.
Bucky shook his head, “You don’t have to go.”
You turned your back to him, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “I’ll do the outline then we can finish it another night.”
A quiet sigh breathed from behind you. Bucky had stood up to walk you downstairs. “Can’t do tomorrow. How about after the game on Friday?”
“You sure? Won’t you be tired?”
He shrugged. “Rather get it done before the weekend so I can just sleep it away.”
“Okay.”
Bucky grazed your arm as he went by you, opening the door and headed downstairs. You followed him, gripping the strap of your bag tightly. There were groceries being carried in by helper Julia and you caught a glance at what must have been Abby in the kitchen unbagging the groceries. Bucky handed you your coat as you slipped on your shoes. He stuck his feet in some sneakers and walked outside with you. The hatch back of a silver SUV was open, Bucky’s mother handling a few bags.
“I got ‘em, ma.” Bucky swooped in and scooped up the rest of the bags she had.
You stood off to the side watching the mother and son for a moment. Awkward was an understatement. Did you just keep on walking and not say anything? No, that was rude. Did you offer to help? It looked like Bucky had everything taken care of just fine. Your weight shifted from leg to leg, gnawing on the inside of your cheek.
“Hey, uh, ma. This is my friend,” Bucky hesitantly introduce you to his mother. She poked her head out from behind him, beaming with delight. She was short, maybe five foot four, soft brown long hair that framed her face pleasantly. She had those eyes, those blue ones that could brighten a day just looking at them. “We’re doing a history project together.”
You stuck out your hand to shake, polite smile on your lips. Instead Mrs Barnes pulled you in for a hug, surprising you but it was comforting and not as weird as you thought it’d be. She had beautiful smelling perfume on, something warm and appropriate for the winter weather approaching.
“It’s so nice to meet you, dear.” Mrs Barnes greeted.
“It’s nice to meet you too, Mrs Barnes.”
“Winifred.” She corrected. “No need to be so formal. Mrs Barnes is my mother-in-law.” Winifred took a moment to look you over like an exam, assessing you from head to toe. “James, she is absolutely stunning.”
Bucky grimaced, adjusting the bags in his hand. “I’m going to take these inside. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
You nodded, saying bye to him. “I have to go, but it was really nice meeting you, Winifred. Your house is lovely.”
“Come back any time. I usually make too much food for dinner since usually one of the boys are over. It’d be nice to have a new face in the house.”  Winifred squeezed your arm gently, giving another friendly smile. You said thank you, telling her to have a good evening then started your trek home.
You missed your mother when you got home, already off to work. A note was left from her on the stove saying there was shepherd’s pie being kept warm in the oven with a few hearts and a smiley face on the sticky note. You pulled the casserole dish out and spooned yourself a piece, taking it up to your room for the night. Idly you ate and typed up an outline, though your thoughts reflected at your short time at the Barnes residence. It stuck with you how Bucky dropped everything to help Julia and then without being asked assisted his mother with the groceries. It was small things but nice.
You laid back in bed after showering and changing into cozy clothes, snuggling up under the blanket. You grabbed your phone off of the bedside table, tapping on the text message icon.
You: So… James?
You barely flipped to another application before seeing the drop down message with a reply.
Bucky Barnes: Yeah. Bucky Barnes: Did you think my name was legit Bucky? You: Could have been. Frank Zappa literally named his daughters Moon Unit and Diva Muffin. Bucky Barnes: Don’t think Bucky is that extreme.
You: Guess not…
You watched as the three dots popped up on the screen for a few moments then disappeared with another few seconds passing by. There was dead air in the conversation, or lack thereof. Truthfully Bucky didn’t need to reply back. School was in the morning, he was probably going to go to sleep soon anyway. Then the dots appeared again.
Bucky Barnes: My mom made more cookies. She said I gotta bring you some tomorrow and share some with the guys. Think she made like three batches.
You smiled.
You: Winifred Barnes, MVP.
You wondered if Bucky laughed or not. It was cheesy but it was nice of his mother to go out of her way to bake for his friends. Friend, you thought. He had called you his friend earlier. Were you even considered that? Your mind spun, too deep of thoughts for your tired brain. You texted Bucky saying you were going to sleep, plugging your phone in and set your alarm. Bucky replied; simple yet sweet.
Bucky Barnes: Goodnight :)
Peggy was smart and brought a blanket to the football game on Friday. You were both bundled up in jackets and shivering from the wind that crossed the field. Natasha had went to the food stand to grab some warm drinks for the three of you. The game was tied and you wondered how in the world the boys played in such crisp conditions. You could see your breath.
Natasha returned and handed you and Peggy hot chocolate pulling the blanket over her legs too. “There are scouts here tonight.”
“How do you know?” Peggy questioned.
“Overheard Sam’s mom talking in line.”
You glanced behind you, searching the bleachers. That was good news for the boys; a scholarship would be incredible. Everyone blended together and a scout probably would have wanted to fit into the crowd instead of being a distraction. You turned back as the offensive line came on. Steve had everyone huddled up to direct a play before breaking and getting into formation. They got a five yard gain, Steve calling another play shortly after.
You watched intently as the ball was snapped back to Steve. He scanned the field looking for an open man. Bucky was blocked and Sam couldn’t get a man off him. Steve went left, faking a throw in hopes someone could get free. Then out from the right a giant lineman tackled Steve, sacking him flat on his back. The crowd gasped, Peggy was immediately on her feet as Steve was motionless. Bucky broke through players, helmet off as he went to Steve, taking a knee beside him and a coach came onto the field.
Your own heart started to quicken at the sight. Natasha eyes were wide and alarmed. Clint was shoving at a few guys on the opposing team which caused a few shouts from dads at the stands. Sam was having a stern conversation with one of the referees, clearly not getting the answers he was looking for. Another minute passed. Bucky gripped onto Steve’s hand and slowly pulled him up to his feet.
“What is he doing? Is he staying in?” Peggy asked, slightly frantic.
Bucky patted Steve’s chest, swirls of breath coming from the both of them like they were laughing about something. Steve readjusted his helmet, calling back his team. Cheers erupted from the spectators as their Valhalla quarterback was back in the game. Peggy sat back down, still tense but there was a big smile of relief on her face. You looped your arm through hers, squeezing lightly for support.
Down to the last two minutes of the fourth quarter, the Panthers were only up by three. It was crucial to keep possession of the ball and let the time dwindle down. There was tension in the atmosphere. Your eyes darted to the scoreboard and back to the field. Time ticked and small plays were made. A quick timeout was called to regroup and gain focus. Encouraging cheers rang out, clapping and hollering. You felt nervous, this would be a big win and they would be first for the playoffs. You clapped along as Nat and Peggy did. The players took their positions, less than a minute left of play. They could run the clock but it was worth a shot to go for it, 30 yards to the end zone. The ball snapped back to Steve. Bucky was open and Steve drilled the pass to him. Bucky effortlessly caught it, feet motoring. Voices got louder, your heart rate increased hoping for a successful play. Bucky reached the 5 yard mark going to dive in— then a hit. He was taken down by an opposing player. Bucky reached out for the ball to cross the line and from your angle, it looked to be a touchdown.
The crowd was an exploding volcano; the bleachers shaking. You grinned, clapping excitedly at the unbelievable play. But that was it, it was unbelievable as the referee waved it off. The mood quickly shifted from happiness to boos and foul mouths. Your brows furrowed, looking to Peggy who was just as puzzled. Bucky had rolled back onto his feet and invaded the ref’s personal space. You could see him arguing, heated by the official call on the field. He was robbed.
Sam guided Bucky away from the situation, attempting to ease him down. Parents were outraged, the coach was having his own words with another ref but it seemed to be settled. The Panthers still won but it wasn’t the great ending they were looking for.
There was a hum of chatter as people descended from the stands. The little football town was in quite the uproar. You parted from Peggy and Natasha, having told Bucky you’d wait by his car. If he was in a bad mood, maybe it wasn’t best to finish the project now. You sat yourself on the edge of the Jeep’s bumper, shivering as you waited. You watched the parking lot empty of cars until there were only about seven left. Maybe you should have waited inside the school, he seemed to be taking longer than normal. Players retreated from the doors but none were Bucky yet. Your nose was cold and fingers nearly numb.
Bucky appeared a few moments later, head down, hair wet, and a slow pace. You stood up, fidgeting your fingers. A man approached Bucky causing him to stop and adjust the strap of his gym bag on his shoulder. They shook hands and the man began to converse with Bucky, handing him a business card. That must have been a scout. It had to have been. The man patted Bucky’s shoulder, another handshake before he went on his way. Bucky scanned the card for a moment before coming towards you.
“How long have you been standing out here?” He asked. “It’s cold.”
“Yeah, well, I wasn’t running around a field for over an hour,” you said. Bucky unlocked the doors, tossing his bag into the backseat. You climbed into the front of his car taking note of the leather seats and the pristine interior. The car even still had that brand new smell.
Bucky turned on the engine and cranked up the heat. You began to dethaw.
“Was that man a scout?” You looked at him.
Bucky nodded, handing you the business card. On it was the Stanford University logo, along with the man’s name and title. “Wow,” You murmured. “This guy came all the way from California?”
“I guess.” Bucky didn’t really seem too interested in it, at least not right now.
You read the card again, then looked back at Bucky. “I’m sorry about the end of the game. It was a clear touchdown.”
“That ref hates me anyway,” Bucky shifted the car into reverse. “His kid plays for another school and we got into it one game last season. Kind of ended in a fight.”
“Kind of?” You inquired.
Bucky half smiled. “Yeah, kind of,” he pulled out into the main room, turning left. “We’re going to your place. I’d rather not be in a house with four thirteen year old girls. Abby’s having a sleepover with her friends.”
You nodded. You weren’t in the mood to be questioned either so it was a good idea. Bucky seemed to know where he was going. Obviously he knew were Peggy lived, so essentially he knew where you lived. You continued to hold onto the small rectangular card between your fingers, soaking in the heat and watched the road. Bucky parked next to the curb, grabbing his backpack from behind his seat. You hopped out and walked to your front door, unlocking it and going inside. It was much more homey now; less boxes and pictures hung. Bucky closed the door behind him, heeling off his shoes.
“No one home?”
“My mom’s working a double shift at the hospital. Apparently two nurses called in sick.” You told him.
“Your dad?”
You stopped halfway to the kitchen. The topic of your parents hadn’t really come up before. And truthfully it wasn’t important. “Haven’t seen him since I was eight. Said he had to go out to the store one night and didn’t come back.” You found your footing again, going to the fridge.
“Shit, I’m sorry.” Bucky frowned.
“Doesn’t matter.” You handed Bucky a can of Coke and gave a half hearted smile. “Popcorn?”
Textbooks, notebooks and loose papers were scattered across your bed. You sat near the end, legs crossed with some printouts, highlighting important information. Bucky was sitting up against the headboard, typing away on your laptop using the outline as a guide. You and Bucky worked well together, you thought. You’d suggest something but Bucky would take it to another level of expertise. Surprisingly he was pretty good with written word.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” Bucky leaned forward and grabbed a few pieces of popcorn.
“What did you say to Steve to get him back on his feet? The hit looked pretty bad.”
Bucky chewed and swallowed. “Told him that Peggy was already halfway across the field and she was gonna beat his ass if he didn’t get up. He just got the wind knocked out of him.”
You smiled, laughing softly. “She was worried.”
“Yeah I saw her standing there. He’s alright, though.”
You sighed softly, sorting through pieces of paper. You snuck a peek at him. His eyes scanned the computer screen, deleting and retyping a sentence a few times. His face was concentrated, mind lost in a deep thought. You thought back to that scout again, and the business card. It was on your desk. You wanted to ask Bucky what he thought about it; did he have other offers? Did he want to go pro?
Maybe you’d ask another time.
“Starin’ at me?” He lightly teased.
You shook your head. “No—uh, was trying to think of how the conclusion should go.”
Bucky hummed, placing the laptop beside him as he rubbed his eyes. It was a little after midnight, it had been a longer game due to all the commotions, so you didn’t get home close to 10:30. You moved away some of the books and papers, crawling over and settling next to him, pulling the computer to your lap. The document  was already at six pages double spaced typed up. Editing still needed to be done and a works cited page, MLA format. You could do that on the weekend and hand it in on Monday.
“How does it look?” Bucky asked.
You hit the down key to scroll through. “Good, well, to me at least. Who knows what the hell Pierce will think.”
“He likes you, so he’ll like it,” he shrugged. “Me? Not so much.”
“I feel like there’s a story.” You saved the document, closing the laptop and put it aside.
Bucky had his eyes closed, head tilted back against the wall. It looked like he could pass out any minute. “Sometimes authority figures and I don’t get on too well. Tenth grade, Clint convinced me to skip third with him and I went along. The class I skipped was Pierce’s. We went back for fourth and he caught us coming back in and reamed us, brought us down to Principal Fury’s office. I said some shit that I probably shouldn’t have, talked some shit about how Pierce couldn’t even teach. Landed a three week’s worth of detention and probation on football. Wasn’t even failing his class.”
You listened, trying to imagine it and you could see if very clearly. It was apparent Bucky had a mouth on him, you had witnessed it at the party, him and Tony’s short squabble and tonight at the game when he got into the ref’s face.
“And now you’re back in his class.” You murmured.
“Karma, she’s a damn bitch.”
The corners of your lips tugged upwards as you dug your feet under the blanket. Bucky was first and then somehow, before you could even comprehend, you were out like a light. It was a solid snooze until the AM. The sun peeked through the curtains, a breeze rattling the windows. You rested on your side, nose touching Bucky’s arm that was draped over yours while he laid on his back. Wrists kissed and fingertips grazed.
This was… nice. He was warm.
Bucky’s phone aggressively vibrated against the mattress three times. For a moment he was still, lost in slumber until it occurred again. His fingers became vacant from yours, now only a memory as he slipped his phone out of his pocket. Slowly you peeled one eye open, vision blurred but you could make sense of Sam’s name and three text messages. You blinked a few times and Bucky opened the texts.
Sam Wilson: Guess who just saved your ass, yet again. Sam Wilson: That’s right, I did. Now you owe me 3 pizzas. Count ‘em: 3. Sam Wilson: Poor Winifred was worried sick, James.
Your insides rattled with silent laughter at Sam’s sass. Bucky ran his hand over his face, simply typing back a ‘yeah, yeah thanks’ to Sam. Then there was a follow up.
Sam Wilson: Where are you?
A low and slow exhale came from Bucky’s chest. His fingers hovered for a long while over the letters. Your eye shut quickly when he turned his head to look at you and you prayed he still thought you were sleeping. He was still for a moment, and from what you could tell he discard the conversation and locked his phone. Gently he pulled himself up into a sitting position, combing his fingers through his hair. Both feet set on the ground and he was hunched over. You rolled onto your back, stretching out as you normally would in the morning and yawned.  
You had an urge, unsure if it was good or not, to reach out and pull Bucky back down. Just for a minute or two, yet you resisted. This had been an accident with both of you falling asleep.
“I should go,” Bucky barely looked over his shoulder. His voice was sleepy, a little dry in the throat.
“Do you want breakfast?” Your words came out before you could process anything. You didn’t sound desperate for him to stay, he didn’t need to stay. But… it was nice having someone there. You sat yourself up wanting to bury your face in your hands. “Say no, it’s okay.”
“I don’t really want to say no.” He admitted.
You got off the bed, straightening out your shirt and grabbed some sweatpants off your floor by your desk and your phone. “Pancakes. I’ll make pancakes,” you told him, trailing out the room backwards. “Bathroom’s here, by the way.” You pointed to a door just outside your room before disappearing downstairs. You changed in the downstairs bathroom, rinsing your face with water.
Your feet padded against the cool tiles of the kitchen floor. You opened the pantry and took out the pancake mix, retrieving eggs and milk out of the fridge. There was water running from upstairs and you breathed in deeply.
So, now Bucky had been in your house. Not just that but in your room, on your bed, slept right fucking beside you. It was fine, like you said an accident and accidents happened. Yet here you were now in your kitchen mixing together pancake batter for breakfast. You didn’t owe him breakfast. It felt like your head was going to explode.
You had a few pancakes made by the time Bucky came down. He had his backpack packed up and his jacket, placing them against the kitchen table. “Do you need help?”
“No, I’m okay.” You kept your back to him, flipping over a pancake.
The legs of one of the chairs scraped the floor and he sat down. There was silence; a sizzling frying pan and the wind continuing to howl outside. You wouldn’t categorize it as awkward but it was definitely some form of that. You were quiet, Bucky was mute scrolling through his phone to keep himself occupied. You weren’t sure if you should say anything. Was there really anything to say?
Once there was an good stack on the first plate, you brought it to him along with a fork and knife, and the syrup. Juice options were fruit punch, apple and orange but you already knew he’d go for orange so you poured him a glass.
“You’re like my ma,” Bucky said. “Always making sure everyone has what they need before they eat.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“Don’t see how it could be a bad thing.”
You finished making breakfast, taking the seat across from him. He cut into the stack, having four layers of pancakes stabbed onto his fork and shovelled it into his mouth. He was an athlete, he probably ate way more than the average human. Bucky still looked tired. He did say he’d sleep the weekend away so maybe he’d go and do that.
“I’ll finish the the end and conclusion and send it to you.” You told him. It was only fair since he mainly typed the entire essay last night.
“You sure?” Bucky set down his fork and looked at you from across the table. You nodded. He held your gaze as he took a long sip of orange juice. “Alright.”
Nerves. There were nerves erupting in the pit of your stomach, a pang but not like the one you had felt before. It wasn’t gut wrenching and painful, but it was still enough to make you wince. You phone vibrated against the table and you quickly picked it up.
Peggy Carter: Is that… Bucky’s car on the side of the road?
Oh fuck.
You dismissed the text and left your phone to the side. That text could be dealt with when the person in question wasn’t in the same room as you.
Bucky cleared his plate of food and got up, rinsing the plate and left it in the sink as you instructed him to. He was slow to pick up his bag and coat almost hesitating. You could tell he wanted to say something due to his pinched brows and lost eyes. You walked with him to the door, leaning against the wall while he tied his shoes.
“See you on Monday at school?” He asked.
You nodded, “Not sure where’d else I’d be.”
He flashed a smile, teeth and all. You pulled open the door for him and watched him go to his car. You stood with the door open until his car was on and he waved. Your hand rose, fingers wiggling with him driving on by. You closed the door, locking and leaned your forehead against the wood with closed eyes. You felt yourself sink and grow sad at the departure. Why? Why now? Just because you learned about him didn’t mean shit. It didn’t, it really just… You were lonely. Lonely in a house while your mother was at work and your friends all had other things to do.
You were lonely as you crawled back into bed seeing the creases of where he laid, and his fragrance still lingered. You tucked yourself under the blankets, pulling them up to your chin.
Lonely, you thought. You had been lonely from years, starting new schools, meeting new faces that all blurred together.
You didn’t want to be lonely...
bucky list: @buckychrist @bvcks @lila-bard @stanclub @stardustparker @buckybarnesppreciationsociety@sweetwaterprincess @demongirl0913 @queenlydias @dontpanc @ohkingsteve @kingsebstan  @cauraphernelia @yourwonderbelle @beauty-who-doesnt-need-a-beast @bleedlikerubies @fallenaristocat @bubblybuckybarnes @solarbarnes @my-world97 @mystic-scripture @ragnarokbarnes @kali-rambles @pao-prazz @thorins-queen-of-erebor @eventyyr @abbadontherisingqueen @lovinglokiforever @justasimpleassbitch @red-wallflowers @brooklynightsky @hellaqueerangelofthelord @yknott81 @rvmanova @blame-the-russo-bros @buckybarneshairpullingkink @laurfangirl424
CYM *tags open*: @villainsaremorerelatable @akamaiden @sofreakinmanyfandoms @smolbeanthings  @noshitstark @memory-of-a-goldfish @lizfawn @moonstruckhargrove @pizzabarnes@moonbeambucky @csigeoblue @sgtbookybarnes @marco-hvittyvik 
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i-r-a · 6 years
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October Favorites
Sex and the city -  The American romantic comedy every girl should watch at least once. Funny as it may seem to some, I adore this tv show. It's obviously not a "heavy", full of educational facts tv show, but it's exactly what you need when you have 20 minutes of free time and need a cheer-me-up fest. It's funny, smart and changes your perception on a lot of things you wouldn't expect it to. I do have to want that it's a very sexual tv show meant for adults and therefore if you're under 18 I don't recommend this for you..yet.  Stranger Things-  Also known as the show everyone has been blabbing about for the past 4 days. Season 2 came out October 27th and I had watched all of it by October 28th. Although this season starts slow, it definitely reaches its peak later on. I adore the characters and their personalities, the cinematography and above all the way so many values like those of true friendship, trust, family and love are displayed in such a beautiful way, and the actors are all incredible [especially the kids] The Deep Skin YT channel- I discovered this channel thanks to Orion and Britenelle's video on it and since then I can fearlessly say it has been one of my favourite channels on Youtube. Their videos are so raw and beautiful and they show how messy and complicated humans are and how complicated their relationships are. It's so refreshing to see people express their feelings to someone else so honestly in front of a camera and you can very often see yourself in someone else and recognise your habits, mistakes and behavioural patterns in general. 
The way he looks-  A 2014 Brazilian coming-of-age romantic drama film I've recommended to more than 10 friends this past month. The story is so beautiful and not your typical kind of romance at all. The cinematography is ideal for the vibe of the film overall and the portrayal of the character's emotions is so refreshing. Out of the numerous movies I've watched this month, this one definitely belonged to those that stood out. 
You are a badass- I bought this book last summer but hadn't bothered reading it till this month. It only took me two days to read the whole thing because if there's one thing this book will do to you it's make you thirsty for improvement. It really does motivate you to change the way you view life and your perception on a lot of things. If you're going to chose one book out of all the books in this section, I insist it should be this one. 
The class by Eric Segal- I'm not going to lie; I'm only halfway through this book. I bought this book on a market for 1€ and picked it up a few days ago and I find myself unable to put it down. It's witty, smart and so well-written. The depiction of the characters' personalities, the contrast in their way of thinking as well as the differences in their background, all come together to create one of those novels you wish you could finish in one sitting. 
Licor 43 and milk- My friend Antonia is the one to blame for my addiction to this combo. I stayed over at her place one night and we had this while having a long 5 a.m conversation at the balcony about the mess in our heads, the weight of our thoughts and consciousness, the universe and so on and.... that's when my addiction was born. If you're under the legal drinking age this is definitely not for you but for all my fellow responsible adults here, this is heaven. The milk can either be hot or cold; it tastes amazing either way. But since winter is around the corner, warm up the (soy or other non-dairy) milk for the perfect warm drink on a cold fall/winter night.
Soy Milk cappuccino- Since I bought a Nespresso coffee machine, this has become part of my daily morning routine along-sides washing my face and brushing my teeth. I live in Italy so I obviously drink way more coffee than I should and you might think I'm exaggerating when I say this but I can't leave the house if I haven't had my soy cap. If you don't have a coffee machine at home, it's time to explore your neighbourhood to discover the best coffee place that can provide you with your daily coffee-intake at any moment because nothing screams productive evening more than a cup of hot coffee.
Broke girl breakfast- Bred with ricotta and raspberries ; aka the "broke girl" breakfast. Buy a fresh baguette and some toppings like jam, (vegan) butter, fruit and share it with your friends. We all know what being young and broke is and we all get that sometimes your budget just doesn't support fancy brunch in "instagram-looking" cafes, and that's okay! Go to the supermarket with your friends, put some change together and treat yourselves to a "broke-girl" breakfast at the park. 
 @lisasaysgah - LSG is a clothing brand I discovered through Instagram. Feminine, carefully crafted and stylish, this is definitely one of my favourite brands at the moment. The focus they give to creativity and to giving new designers and independent voices a place to express is beautiful. Definitely a brand to check out! [ their stories a lot of times show behind- the- scenes clips that are very interesting]  @francescodaprile - I love surrounding myself with people that inspire me, and my friend Francesco is definitely one of them. He went through one of those crises everyone goes through at some point and deleted a lot of stuff from his Instagram but his account is still very inspiring. He's one of the people that really have an eye for art and that value true aesthetics and find beauty in everything they see. 
@paigemaccready - Where do I begin with this amazing lady. She's the girl behind many of the beautiful photos you guys might have seen on the Messy Heads mag and she's the girl with one of my favourite Instagram accounts at the moment. Her photos, in contrast to the majority of photos prevailing on social media at the moment, are very raw, natural and truly capture a moment with all its emotions. Definitely someone to check out if you feel like you need an inspiration boost for your photos. 
Hoops- An obsession that started in August and has carried on till now for me has been hoops. I initially didn't want to invest in a good pair because I didn't know if I'll be feeling the vibe but I think it's time I bought some quality ones cause this is definitely not a short phase. I adore the sexy, feminine but still sassy vibe they give to every look. 
Plaid pants/skirts/jackets- If I hadn't disappeared from social media, this would be one of the things you'd know about; my newfound love for plaid pants, skirts and blazers. Plaid pants, leather jacket, red lips and messy hair has been my October uniform and will probably continue to be. A pattern that can be worn in so many different ways, so many different styles and so many different occasions, I definitely recommend you bring some plaid in your life. 
Red-  my colour of the year in all aspects and definitely my colour of the month when it comes to outfits. A couple weeks back I thrifted this red blazer I can't get enough of and before that I bought this red mini skirt that's the definition of sexy and before that I got this red sweater and so on. Nothing screams classy, sexy and cool more than a red blazer with matching pants or skirt and nothing screams more Ira than red lips and bed head all day long. 
Monochrome outfits- All red (see previous point), all yellow (pastel yellow), all nudes, all white and all pink have been my go-to look for this month. I've even done some almost total plaid looks but I always break those down with a white tee to avoid crossing the line. Monochrome looks are the easiest way to look classy, stylish and still not cry in front of your wardrobe to put them together. The easy solution to when you're running late but still need to look cool and you know.. somewhat presentable. 
Disposable film cameras- I've been shooting film for quite a while now and if you couldn't tell, I adore it. Since I got my first film camera and learned how to use it, I can't remember what life was like without it. Disposable cameras are a different feeling however. Besides them being perfect for parties, trips and generally occasions when you don't feel like carrying your camera around, their built in flash and unique vibe makes them irreplaceable and very fun to play around with. 
Bullet journals- I've been bullet journaling for more than a year now and I adore it. You can obviously buy a journal that's already prepared for you but there's something really soothing and satisfying about making it yourself. You can add doodles, customise it to any special needs and channel your creativity while being productive and organising your life at the same time. Just be careful not to fall for the "fake sense of organisation" trap and focus too much on making your task lists look pretty and not focus enough on actually getting stuff  done. 
L’Enfant Visionnaire Stickers - If you live in Milan here's a challenge: find the L'Enfant Visionnaire stickers around town and dm us a photo; we are taking over the city. After so many of you requested it, you will soon be able to find them on our online store and order them with free international shipping! 
Photo albums- Three words: magic of print. I've never been the person to print photos before but after a small project I did this summer I decided I would print photos more often and start keeping photo albums. It might sound really lame and maybe a bit pretentious but belonging in a generation that has everything available at its fingertips - only with a touch of a screen- you really start appreciating things like photo albums, vinyls, magazines and books. Maybe our world is still not ready to give up on the smell of books, the glossy printed pictures that decorate our rooms and are hidden in journals and memory boxes, and the crackling sound of a vinyl. Not yet. 
Learning how to use software on your own - Last month I gave myself InDesign classes and this month I’m focusing on video editing! Stop making excuses for yourself and go learn the things you’ve been wanting to learn for forever. You don’t need someone to teach you how to use photoshop, you just need will to learn and the program installed on your laptop.
Duolingo - Living with people from all over the world sparks your interest for a lot of things, one of which is definitely languages. Living in a foreign country Duolingo is certainly a way to practice and improve the country's language (which in my case is Italian) but it's also an amazing way to learn the basics of a new language and improve your vocabulary. Not only am I using this to train my long-gone french, I'm also starting to learn some Turkish and German on it. 
Walking everywhere - As someone living in Milan without a car (or a driving license for that matter) I have to renew my public transport card every month. This month, I decided I wouldn't.  I obviously bought tickets a couple of times, when I had to go places that were too far to walk to or I just needed to save time, but on an every-day basis, I decided my only form of transport would be walking - and sometimes biking-. Putting your headphones on and walking around is one feeling but walking around and actually paying attention to what is happening in your surroundings is another. Next time you walk somewhere leave your headphones at home and try to be present at the moment. 
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dahdah-rigeru · 7 years
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Thank you @jazthespazz for asking me~You are the best! I will certainly keep on answering your questions, you are such a sweetie~ (●っゝω・)っ~☆
How tall are you?: 164cm~
What colour and style is your hair?: It is naturally dark brown (as dark as my soul) but I dyed it twice in reddish purple and I washed it out a lot so it just has a mild shade of red under direct light now. I have side bang (since primary 3) and my hair is straight and waist-length at the moment.
What colour are your eyes?: Dark brown too (what a surprise!) Seriously it is so dark that I have trouble finding my pupils.
Do you wear glasses?: Sometimes. I don’t really need them but it is allergy season here now so I do always have a pair with me.
Do you have braces?:No~ Everybody around me and I know that I probably should have braces but nah, ain’t nobody get time (and money) for that.
What is your fashion style?: 20% of the time I attempt to dress in forest girl style, another 20% I look like I am going to pick up a fight. 40% of the time I don’t feel like dressing up so much so I let my cats pick up my outfit. And the rest of the time is pajama time~ And from time to time I also try too hard and fail so Noka Taihei is indeed my bro.
Any freckles/moles/beauty marks?: I have two moles on the left side of my cheek bone and another one on the corner of my left eye.
When were you born?: 2nd of May~~
How old are you?: 19 yo. Yeah, I know, way older to be a protagonist in anime 😭
Where do you live?: Hong Kong~
Do you have siblings?: Yes! I have a younger brother who is one year younger than me and a younger sister who was born when I was 7.
Do you go to school?:I am in college now and KIDS DON’T BELIEVE THOSE LIARS THIS IS JUST ANOTHER HELL.
What kind of student are you?: I tend to distance myself from those popular kids. They kinda see me as the hardworking type but I just wanna chill and avoid the crowd. I am very focused in class but you bet I can screw myself up in every exam. I can give a brilliant presentation but can’t help with my trembling limbs. Also I am one of the Going Home Club and I am already tired before the first lesson starts. Oh yes,I am the one who hide in changing room from PE lessons. I guess I am pretty normal?
What are your favourite TV shows?: I watch mostly anime and Japanese TV shows these days. I don’t actually have some all-time favorites or just I can’t remember any now……here is a list of anime that I have watched at least twice and still want to revise (does this count as cheating?😂): Monthly Girls’ Nozaki-kun, Barakamon, All Out!!, My Hero Academia, Silver Spoon, Mushishi, Gintama and Daily Lives of High School Boys. I also love watching some of the very old Hong Kong TV shows(Those are the gold. Now they are mostly tawdry 😞)
Favourite pastime?: staring into space……eating, reading, doodling, talking to my cats, annoying everyone in the house. I also like to go for a long walk (so long that I end up two to three regions away from where I start. I like walking but it is a kind of once in a year thing cuz I just don’t wanna go out). I write and fantasize all the time. Or just check out what’s on my social media feed.
What is your dream job?: I used to wish to be a fashion designer when I was in kindergarten. And then a marine biologist when I was in primary school. During my last year in high school I wanted to retire already. And now I want to be a translator.
Would you like to get married one day; if so, where?: it comes to my mind recently that I don’t really need a marriage in my life to feel completed. But if I am going to get married one day, I imagine it to be in a small church or under the sea or in an aquarium.
Would you like kids one day?: Nah. I don’t see myself as a great parent. I’d like to sponsor a few though.
Girly girl or tomboy?: I am somewhere in between? Idk. I think both are cool too.
Do you like shopping?: I like window shopping and check for the same product on online stores. (I am the worst aren’t I?😂😂) I like to shop for groceries, stationery and books. I also enjoy spending the only 10 dollars in my pocket for some beautiful thing that I want but I don’t need. But shopping for cosmetic products/clothes in actual stores is just too much pressure for me 😖😫
What countries have you visited so far?: China, Japan, Thailand and Canada~ I really want to go to Germany and Sri Lanka!
What’s the scariest nightmare you’ve had?: It is a looooong story. So in primary 3, my teacher gave me a wind chime as an award for some competitions. I was so happy and hung it on the doorknob of my room. I then had the worst nightmare in my life that night, in which I just keep seeing a girl wearing a white dress with her pale skin shedding everywhere like the dried, old paint on a wall popping out of the blue. She looked kinda like those doll the family have in Japan to celebrate the Hinamatsuri, which is my deepest darkest fear……And the worst part is that after I woke up, there is a few seconds I saw the girl on my windsill, chuckling at me behind her white sleeve and quickly hide into the pile of clutter. Later that day I heard from my mum that in feng shui, they believed that wind chimes could bring bad dreams and bad luck to the house.                                                                                                           Whoa, long story. Thank u if you finish reading them and sorry if I scared you 😂😂. I also dreamt about losing one of my family members and my parents getting a divorce, and I always end up crying when I wake up. But still, nothing beat this.
Do you have enemies?: Sometimes I am too busy to care about how the others feels, so I wouldn’t be surprise if I have any that I don’t know.
Do you have a s/o?: Nah~
If not, do you want one?: Having someone to be annoying to couldn’t be anything bad, right?
Are you open about your feelings?: I am slow 24/7. So most of the time only the shallowest, most instant feelings could get their way out of my mouth. I also am not good at expressing myself, sometimes I even ignore my true feelings that later on take me a whole week to figure out. So I guess I am not really open?
What’s your family like?: Chaotic good. We usually interact like friends but when something serious comes up, we will be so damn serious.
Would you date someone your family didn’t approve?: I can barely imagine this situation since my mum and dad are quite open and believe in my choice (After all they did sort of start dating without 100% approval of their respective families) and my siblings don’t really care. But still, there is something they can’t accept. I will certainly rethink about the situation, but I guess I will eventually continue the relation if I can’t see anything wrong about it.
Any pet peeves?: Leftover food in the sink after washing dishes. People letting their belongings take the seat instead of another person. Noise. Trouble.
Do you believe in astrology?: Yes! I used to be obsessed with it until everyone now is obsessed with it. It annoys me when someone refers their fault or other’s success to their zodiac signs.
Jaz!!! We are of the same height!!!(   ・ω・)ノ☆・゚::゚Isn’t that a miracle????
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auntiegilli · 7 years
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I had a chat with My Dog Sighs today and I came away inspired.   I asked him about how he got into art.  He was ‘the kid who could always doodle and draw‘ and remembers drawing a pike fish at the age of seven and getting his only ‘gold star’ at school.  In the early days it was recognition that fuelled his continued enthusiasm for art whether it was painting his leather jacket or painting UV backdrops at raves.  He was the friend who was asked to draw and paint for his friends.
He came to street art late (in his 30’s) after already having a career.  ‘Dad told me to get a proper job so I had become a primary school teacher, I had my first child growing up and I discovered the Worcester Collective (A New York blog about street art).  It was the first place that documented street art and I stayed up all night reading it’.  He had forayed into the art gallery world in his twenty’s approaching all galleries within a two hundred mile radius ‘I had a go at it bur fell on my arse’ he joked.
The thing for him about the street artists was that they ‘Weren’t trying to make money, they were just getting their work out on the street’.  He points me in the direction of the TedX talk he did in April last year which gives a real insight into the lost and found inspirational journey of how he started the Free Art Fridays movement.
What I find wonderful about the video is his infectious inspiration.  You can see and feel his empathy and kindness in talking about finding the time to look – and that in those times when we feel most lost we can find something, a catalyst to find, rediscover or energise us to follow our dreams.  In the video he talks about the feeling of being lost when ‘you have your head down physically and metaphorically – you stare at the floor.  Now if at that point you can begin to look for the interesting, the beautiful there is a joy in seeing the world in a whole new way.  The smallest most insignificant things can change the way you think’.  For him the catalyst was seeing a stencil of a rat on his way into London in 2002.  ‘This stencilled rat made me completely reassess what art is and what being an artist is’.
As an artist he wanted to make people feel as inspired as he was the day he discovered the rat, and from there Free art on Fridays was born.  He always caught the train on Fridays and was teaching alliteration to primary school children.  He started by leaving paintings and sharing them on Flickr (as it was the days before Facebook and Instagram).  What is wonderful is his concern that that might be considered littering and so found pieces of rubbish (timber, cardboard, bottle tops) painted on it and then put it back where he found it.  Taking ‘the lost, the unwanted, the rejected and make it into something worth finding’. Before finding his trademark can ‘I’m the guy who makes emotional connections with baked bean tins.’
Other artists started approaching him creating their own Free Art Fridays – sharing and exchanging work which has now risen to 1,000 Free Art Communities over 7 continents.
 ‘When you are brave enough to be lost then there are others out there who are willing to follow you and share the journey with you’.
His real breakthrough happened when the BBC’s Culture Show did a feature on him.  He had just started doing the work on cans that he talks about in the TedX talk above.  From seeing him on TV Pure Evil contacted him ‘I didn’t know him and the gallery asked me to send up a couple of the cans  they sold as they were going on the wall and I was invited to do a solo show.’  This was a testing time as he had a new baby, was teaching full time but his show of twenty cans sold out.   He says he had spent ten years ‘putting work out for shits and giggles’ and then he was discovered.  He still puts work out on most Fridays. Here is one of two pieces he put out at Glastonbury last month.
Bristol’s Upfest is a very special place for him.  He was thrilled to be invited to the second Upfest – at that time to paint a 4ft by 4ft board.  At that time it was mostly graffiti and stencil artists.  He says he felt somewhat intimidated when he turned up with his paint brushes.  Early inspirations from him were London Police,  Adam Neate,  Snub Fark. With his own art background having been rejected by the galleries in his twenties what resonated for him about these artists was when ‘they stepped back and talked about their work, they seemed to be doing it all so seriously, being in love with what they did,  and talking in high art terms about ‘line and flow and composition’.   What he found surprising about his fellow artists at the time was  ‘They wanted to twist everybody’s existence, to make them stop, to get people to question their existence’, and what he realised  was ‘You and your own effort can effect people’s lives, and I think that is really incredible’.
Continuing about what is important to him about his art today he said ‘When you create it it’s personal, you get lost in the colours, the shapes, the forms and lines.’  He says what he finds fascinating when he steps back from his works and listens to other people seeing his work and ‘putting their own spin on it and finding their own meaning.  I always try to include a story in my head – but just because they find a story that is not mine does not make it not right’.  About his inspiration he continues ‘I think you are always inspired by the piece you have just done – that moves you towards the next one.  You finish a piece and step back and think “the next one I will change the eyelashes”, you see the mistakes.’   He tells me of a quote he likes about inspiration ‘Inspiration exists, but it has to see you working’.  He is an artist with a strong work ethic and works nearly every day even when they are not productive.  ‘Sometimes the accidents can lead to a new body of work.’  Of his (now iconic) eyes he said ‘The eye came by as a happy accident, I wondered what would happen if I just focussed on eyes – which I continued till my eyes coming out of everyone’s ears four years later.’
I asked him about what he has coming up this year.  ‘I’m working on a real cool project with a local brewery next week.  Six local artists given free reign with no restrictions on words just the art.  So it will be a six pack of six different artists.‘
He will also be going up to Coventry later in the month where the Transport Museum has invited fourteen artists to paint cars in a quirky exhibition Cartists: Reimagining the Car.
Post Upfest he has two major shows – the first at Art Basel Miami and then a solo show in Chicago in January 2018.
I asked him about what was so special for him about Bristol’s Upfest ‘It gave me my first opportunity to painting in public. I have been every year apart from my wedding anniversary last year.  It is great to see old favourites, and the juxtaposition of seeing the work of the guys who paint on ten story walls along with the artists painting a board or wall for the very first time and knowing how intimidated some of them will feel.  It’s a great buzz and a great mix of artists where everyone is welcome’.
This year you can find his collaborative work with Snub23 at LILIT.  About the collaboration he says ‘Snub invited me to China earlier this year – it was hardcore.  I’ve always respected his isometric paintings.  Not quite sure what we will be doing yet as we are both scribbling,  but it will be something that is recognisable as both of us and inspired by our China trip.  We both work fast so if people want to come and see us we are just there on the Saturday.’
See the man who inspired a movement at Upfest (remember if you want to see him work he’ll be there on Saturday!)
Upfest Saturday 29, Sunday 30 Monday 31 July 2017
Upfest Festival Map
My Dog Sighs website
          Upfest 2017 – My Dog Sighs – the guy who makes emotional attachments with baked bean tins. I had a chat with My Dog Sighs today and I came away inspired.   I asked him about how he got into art.  
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