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heavenfell-au · 20 days

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✦ Memory Lane contest results ✦

First off, I want to thank the people that partook in the contest ! I can hardly imagine having to pick only one scene from my own story, so kudos to each one of you for managing to do it !

Now, without further ado, here's the first submission that was submitted on Discord, realized by Arplenoon !

« TW: Blood, injury, disturbing imagery

I got into Undertale and read Heavenfell back around 2020 and early 2021. There were a lot of things that happened to me in that time that deeply hurt me, separate from the anxiety of the pandemic, but probably had been brought on by it's pressures. Needless to say, I was having it rough. Abandoned, stalked and harassed by my former friends, I let my mind escape into Undertale AUs. Undertale AUs let me forget about myself. Going to work was hard. I'd sit in the breakroom, curled up, trying not to let my thoughts consume me- and often failing. It was during that time, huddled in one of the bigger chairs at work, I read Heavenfell every day for a week.

It was cathartic for me, and helped me process a lot of what I was going through. Even though I wasn't anywhere close to the same situation Frisk found themself in, the scenes where they spiraled in thoughts about their life on the surface resonated with me- Because that was me, tormented by the same demons. Someone knew what I was going through, and I wasn't alone.

I can confidently say that because of that I'm still here today.

Thank you. »

I can already tell you that this hits hard. You've selected a scene from Their Wings that hits very close to home, and I absolutely adore the way you've depicted Frisk's torments, which each bone digging into them carved with words that the ghosts of their past said, cutting them through and through. I love the fact that those bones, along with the vivid red of their clothes, blood and their soul tearing apart pop out against the darkness that surrounds them, all that that giant skeletal hands are craddling them in their palms, giving the sensation that they're at the mercy of death itself as they scream in absolute despair, or in that case, Sans if not both of the skeleton brothers. I really appreciate that we can also see the remnants of Flowey, illustrated here, reminding us the impact of his loss in the story, that he was Frisk's guardian but also their best friend, leaving them stranded in their time of need. There are so many little details here and there that tell about that specific part of Frisk's story, making such an impactful delivery of the message, alongside with the silhouettes that haunt them in their turmoil, ever so faded and yet, very present.

For the technique, it's an amazing artpiece made with watercolors. It's such a difficult media for me to handle, and it's always so mesmerizing to see you realize one of them, and this time, having to handle with so many shades of black. I wish I had an ounce of patience and technique that you have when handling that medium, making me all the more admirative of your craft. The execution is great, for the colors are vibrant against the deep shades of black, and I'm always admirative of people that are able to use that paint type without their paper curling, which requires some type of preparation and knowledge ! The result of this gorgeous illustration, with that particular attention to the red and white colors clashing with the deep black makes it absolutely chilling and nerve-wracking, even more so with how well you illustrated Frisk's agony. You could almost hear their screams. Gorgeous, I'm devouring this work of art. It is delicious.

Next submission is from Cao-the-Dreamer on Tumblr !

« « More like “Adorable Dog” for me ! » you said.

My entry for #HeavenfellContest2024 by @heavenfell-au ! I choose the scene in chapter 15 (Sweet Brothers), where Frisk meets A.D. :3 Whenever I think of Their Wings, it is the first scene that comes to my mind. Is it because I love animals? Because it was a moment of fluff and peace amidst Frisk's painful journey? I think it's both. And yes, the dog is adorable <3

I've been working with shadow puppets for a while now, and I decided to try my hand with Eowyn's characters. I really liked the result! (I've been inspired by Michel Ocelot's works) :3

Here is le théâtre d'ombre in broad daylight: »

You know what ? Seeing your submission made me smile so much ! A.D is such a good pupper and I'm so glad it got to get the spotlight ! (badumtss)

It is such a lovely take on their proper encounter, and the way you portrayed it is so simple, yet so effective and I absolutely love it, for it provides that vision of their bonding experience, as A.D remembered what Frisk did to save its life, and was willing to give them a chance in return. And the way they're staring deep into each other's gaze is so precious and tender, you know what the energy it gives me ? How to train your Dragon vibes, with Hiccup and Toothless having that very unique and special bond. That's what it makes me think of, and the fact that you picked that very tiny scene, for the reasons you mentioned, I'm fucking tearing up at this. I just adore your portrayal of their friendship, and how you selected a simple moment of peace and love in that dark and painful story of Their Wings.

You know what else amazed me ? The medium you used for your submission ! I love how you took the risk to use another type of media, to experience with shadow puppets. Looking back at Michel Ocelot's work, I can definitely see the inspiration, and it's such a nice way to make a tribute to another amazing artist ! I have never experimented with shadow puppets myself, to be honest, I've never thought of it being an option, and that submission was a very pleasant surprise ! I'm very happy you got to choose that medium, despite your drawing talents, I absolutely love people trying out things and taking the risk in a contest itself even ! As I stated above, it is even moreso unique, and the execution is fantastic. The simplicity makes it all the more enjoyable, for such a simple scene, putting all the energy into the characters and the formation of their friendship, all put together thanks to the light source that gives into that intimate atmosphere. Plus, I can tell that while it is a simple looking result, it must have taken a lot of time having to carve and assemble all the pieces together, without counting the measuring, the placements and the light play. Un grand bravo for this artwork, it definitely lingered on my mind for the rest of the day when I've laid my eyes on it.

Last submission by victenSam !

youtube

« The illustration in Chapter 5 – Sweet Trap was one the first scenes that stuck with me, I enjoy the happy vibes. I brought it to life with minor dramatic liberties taken to spice up this short cutscene while still maintaining the overall feel. A paragraph done old-school video-game style, all recorded within a game engine. A happy moment that preludes the turning point of the story.

Reading through Heavenfell felt really inspiring to me. They really put it all in not just the writing, but in all the illustrations, character designs and singing. Not to mention how they’re rocking it in 3D modelling outside Heavenfell as well! This sincere multimedia externalization brought into the fan-work amazed me and helped me give myself a bit of a push to keep pursuing and learning things to hone my own craft. Unfortunately, due to the nature of both game development and making, it became quite a solitary effort on my part. And so, as both a way to honor their work and apply what I’ve been learning, I decided to make a game related entry within the schedule and theme of this contest. I honestly didn’t think I could pull something like this off; I’m glad I tried and I’m happy with the results.

There’s modelling, texturing, sound design, music, coding and directing all creatively put together only by myself just for this piece of animation. I leaned a lot of new things and tested whole new methods and theories in the making of the cutscene. I could go into a lot of details on how every element came together, but I’ll leave that open for any questions that come my way to avoid huge tangents. I hope you all enjoy this little piece of memory. »

Wow.

Just... Wow.

For sure, that one got me gobsmacked. And if the previous submission hadn't gotten me smiling like an idiot, I found myself in absolute awe and I hardly repressed the giggle at the end ! I was breathtaken by the pressing atmosphere until the very moment that those two friends finally let go of the fear and laughed it out, finding myself to do the same, letting go of a breath that I hadn't realized I had stuck in my throat. The fact that you've taken so much time to not just illustrate, but make an entire animation had me floored !! It definitely reminded me of that one illustration that I made myself about that specific scene where Flowey and Frisk were laughing in relief, laying in the snow. That was such a nice little reference, and that made me smile even more! That was a very interesting scene that you picked, all the more heartbreaking knowing what comes afterwards, and that makes me cherish that moment all the more. There was so much nostalgy that I felt there, even felt myself mourning all over again, that was a very strange experience, but I welcome it. Thank you so much for showing Flowey the love he deserved <3

Oh god, there's so much to tell. It is truly a work of art. There's so many mediums put into play there, as you said, there was modeling, there was texturing, sound design and music, and even coding. I also can imagine the storyboard to create the scenes, and all of those details that we happen to forget at times, just so you can render a cutscene of my written story. Truly, I was not only floored by the story telling through your eyes, but by the amount of work you put into this ! It was an amazing surprise to see that kind of work appear for this contest, you're a very talented content creator and this animation is proof of it, knowing that it was made in a game mechanic mind. I lack the words to say how good the technique is for it exceeds anything that I ever imagined. Watching it over and over again, I keep hoping that someday, you get to make an entire game, or even to be hired because there's an incredible potential in you ! It's inspiring seeing how much of your blood and sweat were put into this in record time, I could never hope to do anything like that myself, making me all the more admirative. My best kudos to you, Sam, and thank you for honouring my work this way. <3

That's all for the submissions for Memory Lane. I'm extremely glad that you three had participated, though it feels unfair now to judge your creations when there were only so many participants, which made it harder for me to make decisions, as curious as it is. I've been wondering whether I just let go of the Prize system to give you all the same one, but it kind of goes against a contest, doesn't it ? So I'll still announce the results. Know that each one of your creations made me feel a certain type of way, and I cherished every single one of them. For different reasons, you all deserved the first place, but rules being the rules, I had to be realistic, which is why the importance of technique was there.

So comes to third place, Arplenoon, with his heart-wrenching painting !

To the second place comes Cao the Dreamer, with a very moving shadow puppet !

And the first place goes to victenSAM with his breathtaking cutscene !!

Since I wanted to thank you personally for giving my contest a chance, you all will have an extra in your prizes, as a way to find a middle ground with my prior tug of war <3 Thank you so much for the amount of love you gave to this project. I'll come in contact with you so we can discuss the prize shipping and all the like !

I'll also be reblogging the artpieces posted on tumblr for everyone to enjoy !

#HeavenfellContest2024 #Memory Lane #heavenfell #heavenfell au #gift #arplenoon #cao-the-dreamer #victenSAM #contest results #their wings

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random-mailbox · 1 year

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Random-Mailbox's Favorite Sailor Moon Fics - Week 21 - Huddle for Warmth

This week’s post has a very loose interpretation of the theme of “Huddle for Warmth”, in actuality this is more of a “It is cold, there is snow, so this counts!” type of collection of stories - both multi-chapters and one-shots. Since it is the last week of January and it is below freezing where I am, this seemed fitting.

As always, my apologies in advance for spoiling some of these for you (Fic Titles are linked to either FFN or AO3 entries).

Icebreaker - @linlamont

Minako, being Minako, decides to “help” and sends Usagi and Mamoru to a secluded cabin in the mountains by themselves to try and figure out what they mean to each other, now that they have recovered their memories of the past life. As they work together to cook and keep warm, they try to find a new precarious balance, while dealing with their anxieties and insecurities.

Chills - Secrets10

Serena can’t seem to warm up after getting hit with a Youma attack. This is compounded by her leaving her keys at home while her family is out. Darien finds her bawling outside the arcade and offers to take her to his place to help warm up.

Quality Time in the Cold - Prince_Endymion (Star_Bun)

In this cute one-shot, Usagi and Mamoru enjoy a walk in the first snow of the season in companionable silence.

Snow Bunny - @shnuggletea

In this non-senshi AU short story, a trip out to a ski resort orchestrated by Minako and Motoki forces Mamoru to confront his feelings for Usagi, with Seyia and Beryl acting as foils.

A Magical Boy in Maine - @caelenath

Disclaimer - this story is not complete (but a new chapter went up last week!) and I am making an exception in including it in the series for two reasons: the "huddle together for warmth" part is already published and the way @caelenath writes psychometry is probably one of my favorite interpretations across the fandom.

Mamoru gets invited to spend American Thanksgiving with his friend's family up in Maine. This leads to a weekend of food, cultural immersion, and letting people see glimpses of his alter-ego by being way too good at snowball fights. Except he keeps getting flashes of something, and he can't figure out if they are premonitions or visions of his past life.

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This is the last post for January, and when it came time to decide on themes for February, trying to sort it out by committee did not work as well as I had hoped. There are too many cute possible posts that could be done for the "month of love". After narrowing down the 2 weeks I wanted to do for sure, @caelenath suggested I put the rest of the possibilities that were discussed into a top hat and draw them at random (which I thought was super fitting for a Sailor Moon related fic rec list!). The only snag? I did not own a top hat. Cue googling, searching Amazon to see if I can get it delivered in time, going to multiple party / costume stores and making employees check the warehouse and tops of racks because the system said they have 23! (with my husband rolling his eyes at me the entire time but fully supporting my endeavor). Without further ado, here is what we are doing in February:

Here are the links to the previous Tumblr posts in these series to explore more amazing works based on different themes - make sure to check them out if you haven't had a chance! (Click on title name to go to the post) - I will keep updating the list every week as new posts come up:

Week 1 - Groundhog Day

Week 2 - Established Relationships

Week 3 - Sex Positivity

Week 4 - Unfinished Stories

Week 5 - Darker Stories

Week 6 - Potions 🧪

Week 7 - Reveals

Week 8 - 👻Halloween🎃

Week 9 - Wrong Perceptions

Week 10 - Non-Senshi AU

Week 11 - In-Progress Fics

Week 12 - Mutual Pining

Week 13 - Enemies to Lovers

Week 14 - Slow Burn

Week 15 - Christmas Part 1 - Ugly Christmas Sweaters and Santa!

Week 16 - Christmas Part 2

Week 17 - New Years

Week 18 - High School AU

Week 19 - Slice of Life

Week 20 - Coffeeshop AU

#sailor moon #fic rec #fic list #usagi x mamoru #huddling for warmth #snow #top hat #my penmanship sucks

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queen-scribbles · 10 months

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"22. falling asleep on the other’s shoulder" for Emiri?

Sand

(another entry for the "Kana joins Emiri's crew" AU, and fic-length pining and sweetness ahoy!)

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The soft crunch of footsteps on the sound alerted Emiri to approaching company. She stifled a sigh. It was hard enough to get a moment truly alone on the ship; she’d really been hoping for some uninterrupted solitude while they were ashore to resupply. Apparently, halfway down a beach in the middle of the night wasn’t even going to do the trick.

“Emiri? Is something wrong?” Kana. His gentle baritone had her toes curling in the sand.

“No more than usual,” she said softly, her chin pressing drawn-up knees as she stared out to where the Mercy bobbed offshore. “Just trying to clear my head.”

He gave a small chuckle. “If I may, this seems an odd location, given your feelings on the sea.”

Emiri snorted. “You’re not wrong.” Crashing surf did nothing to soothe her as it did for some. “Only place to get away from the chatter of camp.”

Kana hummed in understanding. “Then I shall leave-”

“No.” Emiri turned his way, thoughts tripping a little over the worry that had been too fast, too raw. “I- You don’t have to.”

His smile at that lit his whole face. “As long as you’re sure? I’d hate to intrude, just wanted to make sure you’re alright.”

“‘Preciate it,” she said. “And I’m sure. I... don’t mind your chatter.”

That made him chuckle again as he joined her. He was barefoot like her, she noted, and had his trousers rolled to midcalf so they didn’t drag in the sand. He sat close enough she could feel the warmth of his presence but a courteous, narrow gap remained between their shoulders.

Kana was silent for several minutes--impressive for him--listening to the ocean and letting her sort her thoughts before he spoke. “Is it something particular bothering you, Emiri? Any trouble we can help assuage?”

Emiri smiled as she shook her head. “Nothing. Just... everything.” She cringed a little at how nonsensical that sounded, but he seemed to take her meaning, so she rolled on. “I’m trying to help so many people, Kana. My friends, kith I’ve met here...” she started tracing patterns in the sand between them. “The gods themselves.”

“It is a lot to carry,” he said softly, doodling a sun and waves near her own random lines. “You know we’re always ready to help.”

She nodded. “I know. I’m lucky in my friends.” From Edér digging her out of her wrecked fortress and chasing his god for her without hesitation and Aloth gently cleaning glass shards from her feet after a god-chat, to Xoti shyly offering a lantern as nightlight if she wanted and Kana’s own impulsive detour from his planned journey to join her, she was very lucky in her friends. “Some of it only I can do, though.” She flashed a wobbly attempt at a smile. “Figures that now I don’t have nightmares and memories keeping me from sleep, the anxiety of what’s riding on me has stepped in to fill the gap.”

Kana cocked his head at her. “You aren’t sleeping again?” His fingers stilled in the sand.

“Most nights are fine,” Emiri said hastily. “But there have been a few recently where I couldn’t stop thinking about... everything.”

He offered a sympathetic smile. “Responsibilities more numerous than the sand?”

She exhaled a soft, wry chuckle. “Feels like it sometimes. And it’s not just the length of the list, it’s figuring how to prioritize them. What can we take care of on the way to a ‘bigger’ problem? What do we need to look into before a lead dries up or danger strikes? And looming over all of it is the gods’ charge to stop Eothas.” She hesitated, shoving her toes deeper into the sand as she whispered, “Even if part of me wants to let him, after what...”

She let the words trail off but could feel his gaze on her as she stared at her sand-dusted feet. Considering the implication of her words, what to say in response.

“Aloth mentioned it was bad,” he finally murmured, resting a hand on her arm. “He also said the details were yours to share if you chose.”

Of course he did. A small, grateful smile tugged Emiri’s lips, even as a breeze tugged at her hair. But this was Kana. “The godlike... we’re not just marked by the gods.” She sighed, the soft glow of her crescent dimming slightly. “We hold a small piece of them, their essence, in our soul. If... if they feel the need, to face a threat” --like Eothas--”they can... reclaim that essence to boost their power, and, well.” She dug a harsh, narrow line through the sand. “There’s a lot of us.”

Kana squeezed her hand. She hadn’t noticed his drifting down her arm, fingers intertwining with hers as she spoke. The gentle pressure made her heart skip a beat. “With dire consequences for the godlike, I take it?”

“Consumed in the process,” Emiri confirmed through gritted teeth, the same anger as the initial revelation beginning to spark in her gut. Her free hand dug into the beach. “They don’t care, it’s a necessary step for the greater good, no matter how many die.” She flicked her hand up, scattering grains the breeze carried away. “We’re sand to them, Kana. Miniscule and beneath their concern no matter how numerous. A small sacrifice to burn thousands of us if the resulting slag of glass makes a useful weapon.”

Her chest ached as the festering words spilled forth. Berath’s Chime reacting to the bitter sentiment, maybe. Her own disappointment the gods were the same now as when she’d cried for help and been met with silence. She hadn’t brought this up with anyone; not Aloth, not Edér, no one. And maybe it was unfair to dump on Kana when they were getting ready to part ways. The thought stirred a fresh ache in her chest.

“Emiri.” Kana squeezed her hand again, more firmly this time. “That is indeed a terrible burden for you to shoulder.”

She gave him an apologetic look, trying to smile. “Sorry for putting it on you...” she mumbled, staring at the ground as the breeze picked up.

“I feel I should be apologizing,” he said, just as quiet, “for not being there to support you when you first... learned.”

“Well, it was the middle of the night.” Emiri gave a wobbly laugh, shaking sand off her fingers so she could attempt brushing loose hair out of her face. “And I know you sleep like a rock. Aloth helped. And I needed time to work through it before talking with anyone else.” She sighed. “I’m just tired, Kana. Tired of restless nights, tired of impossible demands, tired of everything being on me, tired of always being a resource.”

The gods were no better than her former pirate masters in that regard.

“You aren’t,” Kana said, tone more serious and firm than she could remember ever hearing from him. He turned to face her, gently interposing his hand to brush sand off her temple and tuck her hair back for her. “Not to us. To us you are a marvel of kindness and caring and strength born of a life harder than any should have to endure. You are creative” --his thumb dipped back from where their hands were still clasped to brush one of her bracelets--”and determined, and have a sweet tooth to rival my own.” He winked, barely visible in the glow of her crescent. “Along with a fondness for all things fluffy, furred, scaled, or quilled.”

Emiri managed a shaky smile in answer to his lightening tone. “But not feathered.”

Kana chucked and squeezed her hand. “Yes, you have the good sense to make that exception.”

She actually giggled. “What is with you and your sister’s bird, anyway?”

“A tale for another evening,” he demurred, shifting in the sand, and she wasn’t sure if the deflection was embarrassment or concern for her. A beat, then, “Your friends all love you, Emiri. We’re always grateful for your willingness to help when we need, but are more than happy to return the favor.”

“I know.” She let her head rest against his shoulder. “My problems just always seem to be so... big.”

“Do I need to remind you the effort you put forth helping me find the Tanvii ora toa?” Kana asked with a wry laugh.

“Chasing a god across half the known world feels a little bigger,” Emiri retorted lightly. They lapsed into silence, and the weariness she’d thought a background issue started tugging more insistently. “I don’t really mean it, you know,” she said around a small yawn. “‘bout not stopping Eothas. Might be tempting, but whatever I think about the gods, I do worry about the fallout for kith...”

Kana hummed an acknowledgement. “You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t. And that’s why we follow, why we trust your judgement. B’cause you are you. And no matter how much a god tries to siphon from your soul, that still shines through.”

She gave his hand a light squeeze. “Thanks, Kana.”

Part of her thought about rousing enough to go find a real bed if she was finally going to sleep. But the languor was settling in, she was surprisingly comfortable, and Kana didn’t seem to mind. He was humming a sea shanty as she drifted off, their hands still loosely tangled together.

He let her sleep til the tide came in, roused her with an apologetic smile, swept her up in his arms when shifting sand and lingering exhaustion made her stumble. Emiri mumbled half-asleep protest when his first steps staggered, but Kana shushed her as he found his footing and headed back toward--she assumed--their friends.

She had enough time to think ‘far be it from me to protest’ before sleep came for her again.

Her last thought before succumbing, however, was that the sand still clinging to her would be a pain to get out of her sheets.

#queens fic #touch prompts #emiri #kana rua #pillars of eternity #hoo boy i definitely have to let her have him after this #at least in the au #i know how i'd do it too :3

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wispexists · 1 year

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P5R PMD AU because i am insane!!!

So I have many a thought in my head and with Spike Chunsoft dangling the idea of a new Mystery Dungeon entry in front of my face this past week I have more thoughts. Especially about the Mystery Dungeon AU's I create with every fandom I join.

So um Persona 5 PMD au (with some visuals).

Also this will contain major spoilers for Persona 5 Royal and Pokémon Super Mystery Dungeon.

First, this is a rewrite of PMD Super, because I will not write a new story for this and also because I always see Explorers get the crossover au/rewrite treatment (as it should tbh) and we gotta switch it up!! Now with the main plot not really changing we can jump into the characters.

1. The Heros

The hero role is filled both by Akira Kurusu and Goro Akechi, both being human and both losing their memories respectfully after being isekai'd into a foreign world. These bitches gay, so I think it's funny to throw them into another god killing situation.

The role stays true to the plot, get chased by Beheeyem, get adopted, join the guild, etc. it would just have more banter between characters in between.

Akira:

At first you may think, "Wouldn't Zorua fit better? Isn't that the black and red trickster Pokémon that fits the overall aesthetic really well? Wouldn't it have been cool for an Akiren that could summon fake illusion personas???" Because I thought the same things until I realized I cannot draw Zorua!

I also think even though Floragato doesn't really fit aesthetically, it fits in every other aspect of joker persona. Silly little jester cat.

I also thought Zorua would be too much of an awkward fit in the group just, vibes man, he's too small. Once you see my other picks you'll get it. You get silly little jester cat take it or leave it.

Goro:

STUPID BIRD!! THE CHOICE IS OBVIOUS!! FUCKIN,, CROW MAN!! CORVISQUIRE SWEEP!!

I also made him shiny because it matches his color pallete. Literally easiest decision in the world. I was originally going to go with rookidee but again, too small.

2. The partner

You thought these bitches were doing this shit alone?? NO!! THEY NEED A SILLY FRIEND!! WHO ELSE TO PUT IN THE ROLE OF THE WEIRD ADOPTED ORPHAN THAN WEIRD ADOPTED ORPHAN FUTABA SAKURA!! Also going forward no other character is human, very important pmd shit.

Futaba:

Similarly to the p5 plot, Futaba is still grieving her mom while getting adopted by Sojiro. Wakaba died in an "unfortunate accident" while doing research for a guild on the grass continent. The last thing left in Futaba's possession is her harmony scarf. Unlike p5, Futaba didn't actually see her mom die since she was in Serene Village while her mom was doing research. She still somewhat blames herself for her mother's death but is motivated to find the truth behind it.

Futaba's social anxiety would prevent her from joining a proper exploration team, until of course she gets two new neighbors that are reminded of someone in her and feel obligated to help (THE HEROS FROM BEFORE IN CASE YOU DIDNT GET THAT). Also in Super, the partner doesn't join a team because everyone fucking hates them and I thought wow! That's way too mean! And not in character!! So I changed that.

Anyways JOLTIK FUTABA, SMALL CREATURE. The only one allowed to be teeny tiny.

I originally was planning to go with a Dewpider since I knew for a fact that I wanted her to be a bug type but then I saw Joltik and thought "wow, this bitch has so much mischievous energy" and it stuck.

She'd probably run a support build of some kind in preparation to be backup.

3. Nuzleafs replacement

Takuto Maruki.

If you thought anyone but him I would tell you to replay Super Mystery Dungeon BECAUSE I THINK IT FITS SO WELL.

Also because it's weird that Nuzleaf was like unemployed, I also made Maruki Audinos replacement as the school nurse. He can be in a weird cult and work at the school at the same time.

Yes Maruki is the one who sends our protagonists to hell! After his childhood friend Rumi never truly recovered from an accident, Maruki turned to the help of Yveltal, believing that the limbo-like state is better than suffering for a lifetime. This happiness can be easily achieved if only he had a human that could destroy the barrier on Revelation Mountain, then their plan would be foolproof..

Also important to note that actualization doesn't exist because personas and the metaverse wouldn't exist in Pokémon.

FURRET MARUKI SHAKES YOU. His ass looks normal until he STABS YOU IN THE BACK!!

4. Classmates

Ok I got a little burnt out at this point so I don't have references for these ones but the gist is they're literally just the Shujin guys. None of them would join the exploration team (sorry :() but they would still get little side stories. I also tried to match certain characters with their metaverse powers as a little silly.

Ann: Braixen. Literally makes so much sense. Strong girlboss fire wizard like get it queen!! Fuck yeah!

Ryuji: Luxio but specifically with rivalry instead of intimidate purely because it's funny.

Makoto: Houndour. Honestly went with this because of vibes and also because she counters and covers Haru's weaknesses because I am a Makoharu stan frfr.

Haru: Galarian Ponyta. See Makoto.

Mishima: Please suggest a Pokémon for Mishima. I do not have one.

Shiho: also up for suggestions

Sumire: Eevee. Since actualization doesn't exist, she still knows she's Sumire, but is still strongly advised by Maruki to follow in her sisters footsteps considering she trained her entire life as a performer, why shatter your dreams and pursue something that has the chance to bring you pain? Specifically replaces Espurr in this au since she's being manipulated by Maruki.

Yusuke: Alolan Vulpix. Not part of the school, he lives in Lively Town with Madarame, but he gets included on this list because I have no where else to put him.

Morgana: Purrloin. Isn't in this story like at all because he got arrested for crime. Thought I'd include him anyways.

5. Extra thoughts

I have a few more characters that I know for sure are going to be here. Every change of heart is going to happen but they would most likely get arrested instead (cause no metaverse).

This really is just a self-indulgent mashup of P5 and PMD. The characters still generally keep their arcs even if they aren't as important, the overall plot is just that of PMD Super.

And that about wraps it up for now! If you made it this far, I love you, mwah. Also please please please send any questions because I am writing this in the middle of the night and I KNOW I probably missed something and I really just want to share this silly au. Thank you for reading!

#persona 5 #pokemon mystery dungeon #persona 5 royal #p5 pmd au #au #crossover #pokemon #pokemon super mystery dungeon #my art #long post #this took two hours to write

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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walks-the-ages · 2 years

Note

The link to easier to run still doesn't seem to work (for me at least)... idk, would you consider posting the fic on your blog maybe? You don't have to, of course

Here's the link to it on A03 since FF.n isn't cooperating, for anyone that wants to leave a comment.

Full fic under readmore, since it's pretty "short" as far as my chapters go :)

Copied directly from a03 so the summary's here too.

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Season 4 AU: What if Marinette had actually run away from home, to become Ladybug full time?

Well. A lot can happen from one small divergence in the timeline...

Friends and family deal with the loss of their loved one, Gabriel Agreste has one competent bone in his body, Adrien tries to pull his usual stunts, and Marinette embarks on a journey of self-discovery while dealing with memory issues, superheroing, Guardian duties, depression, anxiety and...

...voices in her head? (Plural!Marinette)

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Notes:

Adrien stans, leave. turn away. if you try to leave dumb essays in my comments about how wooby baby uwu Adrien is you will literally just be laughed at and deleted. you have all the fanfiction in the world you could be reading instead of my fic that is clearly tagged as adrien critical. If you keep reading after this, you only have yourself to be mad at.

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Marinette couldn't sleep.

For long minutes, she stared at her skylight, watching the lights of cars move across her ceiling, distorted into eerie lines that crawled across her walls like ghosts.

She tried to distract herself by counting the lights as they slid over the foot of her bed and up the wall to vanish again, but nothing could distract her from the dark thoughts in her head.

Rolling over to her side, Marinette didn't need to fumble for her phone; she'd been staring at the darkness on the inside of her eyelids long before she'd finally opened them up to look at the dark walls. Her eyes had long since adjusted to the night's gloom, and the white charger cord that was plugged into her grey phone stood out like a silver beacon.

Unplugging her phone and turning the screen towards her, Marinette hit the power button and squinted against the glare as the numbers blinded her:

3:56 am

Dragging her thumb down the screen, Marinette tried to turn the brightness down, but it was already at the minimum setting.

Resolved to being overwhelmed by the dimmest of lights, Marinette looked at the red lights tracing across the foot of her bed and knew she couldn't stand lying in bed for another three hours before she had to get up for school.

Sitting up, Marinette pushed her blanket down to the foot of her bed, balled it up, and chucked it down over the side of the bed rail, so it landed next her ladder with a soft thwump.

Climbing down the ladder, Marinette scooped up her blanket and slung it under her desk, into the corner. Retrieving her diary from it's rudimentary lock box, Marinette double checked that the Miracle Box was secure and that only a kwami could see it, then stooped down, and crawled underneath her desk.

Pulling the blanket up over her head and wrapping it around her like a cocoon, Marinette settled into the cramped spaced in the corner, feeling more grounded.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Marinette opened up her diary, turned her phone screen towards it, and hit the power button. Light flooded out, illuminating the blue-lined pages, and the handwritten text within it. It was set to tomorrow's date, still blank, waiting for her to fill it in the next night.

But Marinette did not pull out the glitter pen that was slotted in the back cover and begin to write a new entry; instead, she flipped the pages backwards.

Back through time, seeing each date pass her by, certain phrases and sentences jumped out of the coded text that only she could decipher, as bold in the text as it was branded in her mind, going backwards, just snippets from much larger entries:

Two days ago:

Chat Noir. Just. Won't. Stop. I can still feel lips against mine, no matter what I do to scrub it away. He did it again, but in front of a crowd this time. My mind went blank, and I punched him, but he just joked with the crowd that I was embarrassed with PDA. I feel sick.

Luka was there, and he doesn't know it's me, and we're not even together, but that just makes it worse. I felt like I betrayed him, and I didn't even want it to happen. He was the only one that tried to stand up to Chat Noir and tell him to leave me alone, but Chat Noir just laughed again and told him to mind his own business.

I left before Chat Noir could do anything else, especially when I saw Luka was trying to come up to me. If he tried to comfort me, I would have broken down right there and told him everything. I got away before everyone saw me cry, but now I just can't stop. The kwami have tried to cheer me up but I just can't stop crying. Why? Why does it hurt so much?

Four days ago,

Chat Noir kissed me. After I had just finished telling him, again , to stop. Why won't he stop? I yelled at him and pushed him away, but he just laughed at me. I think I had an anxiety attack because I literally don't remember anything after that, except 'waking up' at home, standing in the shower.

Five days ago,

I broke up with Luka.

I got an F on the test at school.

Why does everything have to go wrong? Does the universe hate me?

I can't stop crying.

A week ago,

I'm getting really worried now. I thought I was just being more forgetful than normal because of stress, but this isn't normal. This is getting really, really bad. I keep… blacking out. I have hours at a time that are just… gone. First I'm in class and then I 'wake up' later, but I'm on a rooftop, and apparently I fought an akuma, but don't remember it at all? I checked the Ladyblog but it didn't mention the akuma having memory powers… Chat Noir was being snippity again, I guess I said something to him that he didn't like, because he was being really sarcastic and pouty about us not being a couple again. Good fucking riddance, maybe it'll stick this time, maybe he'll finally stop, and leave me alone.

Ten days ago:

I'm confused, apparently me and Luka arranged to go to the museum together today? He came to pick me up and we had a really nice time, I thought he was surprising me, but when we got to the Grande Halle de la Villette, he asked me where my ticket was, and when I asked him what he meant, Tikki snuck it into my hand. Apparently it's been in my wallet all month. It was fascinating to learn about and see Tutankhamen and learn about his life, but I was distracted, wondering how I could have forgotten we had this date planned. It's the last time Tutankhamen will be on exhibit outside of Egypt, and it's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I'm glad I'm old enough to appreciate it, I just don't understand why I can't remember planning it, no matter how hard I try.

Twelve days ago,

I totally forgot we had a project due today. Ms. Bustier is going to let me do a make-up essay, but I'll be marked down a letter grade. My overall grades have dropped from As to barely Cs, I can't afford to lose more points! My life is way too complicated right now, I barely have time for anything between hero duties, family, friends and school, and apparently I can't even keep up with school! What else have I missed?

Mom and Dad grounded me for the next two days, no hanging out with friends until my homework is done, but Mom is helping me with the essay, so at least I can focus. I don't want to disappoint them. Dad wanted to ground me for three, but Mom said something about important plans on Tuesday they could never make me miss. I wanted to ask what they were talking about, but got distracted.

Two weeks ago,

I totally skipped out on Luka today! I feel so bad, we were hanging out at his house, but then the news came on with an emergency alert about an akuma and I came up with the lamest excuse to leave! It's so embarrassing, I had to tell him I had cramps, but he didn't get grossed out or awkward, he just said Juleka has supplies in the bathroom and offered to get me a hot water bottle, and he understood if I wanted to go home. That made me feel even worse about lying.

I just wish I didn't have to deal with all these secrets! I just want to tell him the truth, I know I can trust him, he's proven that as Viperion, but… I don't want to put him in more danger than he already is. I couldn't stand to see him hurt.

Marinette read backwards through her diary, flipping through the pages, confirming with her own eyes, her own hand-written accounts of events that…. Just didn't exist in her diary. She never wrote down that she made plans with Luka to visit the museum the day they apparently planned it, when she flipped back to the date that the school project was apparently handed out, she hadn't mentioned it at all on the list of homework she included each day.

And she was meticulous about writing everything down each night, and even throughout the day! It was how she had always organized her life, for years now!

So why did she suddenly have these gaps in her memory, and nothing in her diary to show for it?

At least she knew she wasn't somehow imagining it.

There was no diary entry she could have reread, no sticky note taped to her school binder, no record at all of any of her missed time.

If it hadn't been obvious that her loved ones had experienced the lost time, Marinette might have seriously considered that an akuma had put a spell over the city⏤ but no one else had lost time.

That meant it was only Marinette effected.

And she had only noticed problems with her memory after Master Fu had transferred his title of Guardian to her.

Had… Had Master Fu done the ritual wrong? He himself had admitted he wasn't a true Guardian, didn't really know the proper teachings, had gotten some scraps of vague knowledge and then had to improvise for a hundred years⏤ not to mention he had been under attack, at the point of defeat, when he transferred his Guardianship.

Was Marinette going to start losing all of her memories because she wasn't a real, proper Guardian? Because a spell had gone wrong? Because…

Because…

Because another adult had proven once again she couldn't rely on them, on anyone to protect her?

Tears fell down Mariette's face as she slowly flipped back to the most current page, the one she had filled in, right before she tried to go to bed at 10:26pm, already yesterday as the sun was going to rise in a scant few hours.

The entry was the shortest she had ever written.

I don't know how much longer I can do this.

#Walks writes #Plural! Marinette #ml #Miraculous Ladybug #Marinette dupain-cheng #Adrien salt #chat noir salt #Marinette deserves better #ml fanfiction #fanfiction #please feel free to reblog

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bookwyrminspiration · 2 years

Text

Shattered Upside Down

A kotlc wings au: masterpost here

Chapter 35: History Written in Fatality

word count: 8.1k

chapter summary: Sophie continues to read and learns what, exactly, happened in the village she now calls home.

warnings: mentions of mass death and anxiety in the past, injuries ( a continuation of last chapter essentially)

taglist: @cosmogyral-cleo @axels-corner @cadence-talle @ahecktonoffandomsinoneblog @milesspidermanmorales @loverofallthingssmart @cowboypossume @jolieharkness @wings-of-hell-and-beyond @shellyseashell @blossomjenniie @akotlcblog @imaramennoodle @panic-at-the-multi-fandom-chaos @dragonwinnie-kotlc @solreefs @fintan-pyren @jazzanddaydreams @xanadaus @sa-divine

-ao3 link here or read below

A figure in an embellished red cloak, that’s who this gnome had seen, had spoken to.

Someone who wanted to fix the world, to cure the monsters, to return the surface to what it once was, though he’d been at fault for its demise. Whatever goal he’d desperately chased fell short, and in creating them had created their destruction.

So he sought recompense in an innocent gnomish village, requesting their assistance.

Murad knew exactly where the gnomish village was; he’d been there. However he’d found it, if this recount was true, he’d been there, heels thudding against the same wood hers did.

He and Fintan, they’d talked about the village; Fintan had said he’d always wanted to find the place, see what happened.

She’d mistakenly thought that if he wanted to find it, that meant they hadn’t already. That it was still a mystery to them.

But what if they’d known all along?

Pausing, she flipped through the remaining pages, all the entries she had yet to read, heart dreading everything she’d find. There was too much left to tell, to say. So much yet to learn about what happened, because that’s what she needed to know. What happened between the beginning and the end.

Because she already knew the end to this story.

It ended in claws and death, in tragedy and futile wishes.

Yet here she was, pulling herself closer in, trying to decide if it was better to get attached and mourn, feel the ache in honor of this gnome’s memory, or to stay distanced and save herself the hurt. If she even could.

The pause gave her a moment to take in her surroundings, to see that she couldn’t see, the sun disappeared. Her focus had been enough to keep her from noticing, but now as she squinted at the page, it’d be impossible to ignore how difficult it was to read with only faint moonlight.

She’d need a light source; there was no way she was sleeping tonight, not with these answers at her fingertips.

Murad had something to do with the village; she couldn’t stop now.

“If only he’d left moonjars or something,” she grumbled, rummaging through the drawers on either side of the desk, coming up empty. There weren’t many places things could be stored; she’d lived here for long enough that she thought she had a pretty good idea of what was here, and that didn’t include any light sources.

After only a minute of careless bumbling around the room, peering on shelves as if something would magically materialize just for her, she gave it up.

Debating with herself for a moment, she grabbed the diary, trying to keep her footsteps gentle as she crept out into the night.

Stars burned above, winking and blinking their patterns as the moonlight illuminated just enough of the bridges that she could cross the bridges without worrying about falling off, as if she even could. If only that light was enough to read by.

Leaves rustled faintly in the breeze of the otherwise still night, an entirely different scene from the monsters the gnomes had described in their account, the dangers nighttime brought. Sophie’s working theory had something to do with a light sensitivity for some of the monsters--that creature Murad had put her in an enclosure with had been so sensitive any light was too much; it wouldn’t be that far of a leap to think there were others just like it that would only emerge at night.

But she couldn’t hear them. Now that it was the ten of them here--twelve if you counted Linh’s dragons--it was silent. Nothing growling or clawing at the earth below. Was that Maruca’s work? Had she driven them far enough back with her territorial streak? Or were they too like them to attract the interest of anything nearby?

As she stalled, another sound joined the medley.

Wind stirred the pollen on her skin as Wylie settled to the ground next to her, rolling his shoulders as he found his balance, offering her a small smile.

“Hello,” he said by way of greeting, though he didn’t look at her. His eyes were focused somewhere in the distance, and she had a feeling it was the exact place she was heading.

“I…hello to you, too, I guess. Where did--how…” she trailed off. She hadn’t even heard him approaching until he was already there, hadn’t thought anyone else was awake at this hour besides the person she was on her way to steal some light from.

Wylie scratched at the back of his neck, averting his eyes. “Sorry about that. Couldn’t sleep. Something felt off again, and then I heard you start moving around and thought ‘that’s it,’ so I followed. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Sophie waved it off, hugging the diary to her chest as she started walking again; Wylie often served as pleasant company--after they’d made their amends, that was--and it would definitely help to have someone to talk to as she sifted through the horrors one gnome had inscribed.

She wasn’t sure how much more she could take, but there weren’t any other options.

The only other polyglot in their group would be spending the night grieving his mother with conflicting memories, and she didn’t even know if Tam or Linh had picked up on any gnomish when living in the neutral territories. And if they had, would it have been written? If they’d learned anything, it was most likely spoken, and that wouldn’t help.

So this task came down to her, and now that she’d started there was no way she could rest without finishing.

“Where are we going?” he asked, falling into step behind her, playing with the edge of his sleeves as he looked around, walking carefully.

“Dex’s house.”

“What for?”

“...a light,” she admitted, feeling her cheeks heat. What a strange and mundane reason to be moving about in the middle of the night.

Wylie hesitated a moment before continuing, processing. “A light?”

Sophie held up the diary so he could see it over her shoulder. “It’s too dark to read and my house doesn’t have any lights. Dex is the only person I’d expect to be awake at this time; he’s had trouble sleeping on the same schedule as everyone else ever since the big facility catastrophe. So I was going to ask him.”

Wylie hummed back at her instead of responding, and they passed by the rest of the empty houses on the way in silence, the telltale glow of lights up ahead. Curtains closed, warm color still spilled into the night air from his quirky abode, exactly as she’d hoped for. She’d have to ask him what he used for light so she could borrow them sometime.

Not that she’d ever need to be up in the middle of the night reading horror stories in diaries ever again, but it was nice to be prepared.

Remembering the last time she’d burst into Dex’s space without knocking, Sophie rapped her knuckles against the door, tugging on her eyelashes a few times as she waited before forcing herself to drop her hands. Her wings buzzed against her will, betraying her nerves.

After a moment, the door swung open, Tam squinting into the darkness as the light from inside spilled over their faces.

“Oh! I--hello--why are you here?” Sophie sputtered, unsure which of the many things suddenly crowding into her head to say.

“Why are you here?” he shot back, stepping back so they could come in, Wylie nodding his thanks as he took the door.

This time her face stayed blissfully cool as she said, “Lights. My house doesn’t have any and I can’t see.”

Tam snorted. “You’re telling me. If I stepped outside I’d end up walking off the bridges and falling to my death. I don’t know what actual bats are like, but however those elixirs mixed with my shade DNA gave me shit eyesight in the dark.”

“Is that why you’re here?” Wylie asked. “For the lights?”

“The lights? No, Dex is the only one consistently up at this time, so I hang around from time to time. Help him with his gadgets.”

As they spoke, they started moving again, the three of them crowded into the narrow front work room of Dex’s house and making their way towards the main room. That was where she and Dex had had their little sleep over, where she’d woken up the morning Maruca shared her secret.

“Hey,” was all Dex said by way of greeting as they filed into the room, Tam falling back into a chair he must’ve been sitting in before they arrived, right next to Dex. Wylie claimed a beanbag chair in the opposite corner, leaving Sophie to take the couch Dex had slept on.

His hands were busy, fiddling with some sort of cube disassembled--or being assembled?--in his lap, looking as though he hadn’t moved from that position in quite a white. He’d sunk into his seat. [make sure furniture is matching prior descriptions?

Sophie tried to guess what it was by observation alone but gave up. “What are you doing?”

“Making explosives and things,” he responded, absentmindedly. “Hold this.” He handed some confusing curled piece of metal to Tam, who obediently held it, picking up another piece he must’ve set down to come open the door.

“...Explosives? Why?” The gnome’s diary was momentarily forgotten as possibilities and questions circled through her mind. Were there monsters nearby? The violent kind? Was he helping Maruca keep the area clear? How potent were they? Was this a normal thing he did and she’d been paying abysmal attention?

He shrugged slightly. “If we’re taking Phoenix, the organization, head on, then I think we’re going to need more than just half a plan and hope. Figured it was best to start stockpiling now so I don’t have to crunch later.”

She didn’t have an answer to that and let the conversation drift away from her instead.

Leaning back, careful with her wings as she settled into the seat, her fingers tapped against the cover of the diary as she steeled herself. She wanted to read it--no, she wanted to know what had happened. She didn’t want to read the diary, not in the slightest. Dread coiled thick and slimy in her lungs, wrapping itself around her heart and squeezing tight. If Keefe were here, he’d take a step back to get away from her, away from the feeling.

But Keefe wasn’t here, and she had a diary to read.

As she mentally prepared herself, she paid little attention to what the others were doing. Tam was helping align the pieces Dex had asked him to hold, and Wylie had gotten up to help, poking his head back into the entry room to look for something.

Glancing at the mounted light sources on the wall, little bulbs full of coils that looked nothing at all like human lightbulbs, she flipped to where she’d left off, hoping whatever she learned about the village, about what Murad had done, wouldn’t be worse than what she was already imagining.

....................

Day 35:

The village discussed the matter for hours, bringing question upon question to the strange visitor. I do not know if he has spoken to anyone directly the way he spoke to me, but despite my confusion over who he is and how he has survived, we have agreed to help. Nature has its ways, but everyone needs a helping hand from time to time. It is how we flourish.

If there is a chance to help cure these ailing animals and restore the balance we once knew, we will take it. His dedication offers a promise of hope we would have never expected to find when we set out on our journey. Who could fault us for taking it?

He was grateful when we shared the news with him, and then began the task of arranging the specifics of what he would need. Of course he could not undertake such a momentous task on his own, and would need space for his people within the village. This is a reasonable request, so we intend to adapt spaces and furniture to the needs of those like him in a more permanent manner; when he stayed the night a few days ago, he rested upon a hastily constructed hammock, which will not suffice for longer than brief use. Beds, chairs, and all the like should be in order soon.

Everyone is buzzing about, preparing for this shift. We had thought ourselves only to be survivors, living as best we could with all that has transpired. But now we take an active role, one we never dared dream could be possible. We had resigned ourselves to decades and centuries of this new life, expanding our homes among the trees as nature found her own solution. But now we will be a part of it and ease this suffering.

My name is being called. I am needed. My notes will either grow sparse as I am otherwise occupied in the coming days, or more detailed as more happens.

....................

Yes. They’d said yes. Murad had asked and the gnomes had said yes and she couldn’t even blame them because she would’ve done the same thing. They didn’t know who he was, didn’t know the context, didn’t know who he allied himself with and what he was willing to sacrifice to get what he wanted.

What did he want? In her brief time knowing him she’d learned so little, only that she hated him and wanted nothing to do with him. That he had been the one to save the Neverseen from extinction, at least in his mind. That he’d been in the first facility they’d failed to topple and then he was in another, and that he was always always always connected to Phoenix, that scared little girl.

He’d showed up in their village all polite, asking questions and claiming he wanted to save the world. That he had a plan. That he needed help. Of course they’d say yes. Who wouldn’t? He was unsettling, but he could easily put on a nice facade. That must’ve been what he was doing, coercing them into helping.

But what ulterior motive did he have living with the gnomes, asking for their help?

....................

Day 38:

Forgive my shaky penmanship this entry, for I have been caught off guard and it is outside my control. There has been a development.

He and his have moved into the altered homes, all equipped with more appropriate furniture for their needs and stature, the shift simple. There were materials aplenty, the forest providing more than we required. There are perhaps a dozen of his people now living here and I know the names of none. The only one that stands out is a little girl, who must be the child of one of those who now reside with us. They all have his stature, and they all bear a gravity upon their complexion that is most unsettling.

They know the enormity of their task and its importance upon the world, so I pay it little mind. My own complexion must mirror theirs at times, listening to the sounds of creature below, as the growls and howling reach out ears.

I have yet to learn who they are, all of them except for one.

I did not know they were in an alliance. Had I known that this was one of the people he intended to recruit, or already had, I wouldn’t have agreed to anything in the first place. I wouldn’t have deigned to speak a word to him.

I wish to have nothing to do with Fintan Pyren nor anyone in relation with him.

He must’ve knowingly omitted this information upon our discussions, for who could have Fintan Pyren in their arsenal and mention it none? He must’ve known it would break all deals and contact we would make with him, for there are few names spoken with as much vitriol as his.

No one has forgotten the fear that colored each song as we sang in hopes of recovery, waiting and hoping that those infected would be well again, and the trees would flourish once more.

No one has forgotten that it was Fintan Pyren who coerced the ogre king to unleash the plague.

The complete recovery we found does not absolve him, and I can hardly stand to look at him even in the years since. And look at him I’ve tried; he is here among us now and I cannot help trailing him with my eyes, ever waiting for a spark to burn this place into the ground.

He has done nothing since arriving, spoken to no one--not even those he arrived with--only a slight smile on his face to hint that he knows and can feel the hostility in the air all directed towards him. I think it gives him a sickly satisfaction to rile us so, but I will not disrespect those who suffered at his hands with any feigned stoicism.

Before I devolve too heavily into this hatred of an enemy so close, I must also note that there is something…peculiar about him. Not the flames, nor the disregard for life if it suits him, but he appears different in a way I cannot yet identify. He stares into the forest, eyes moving back and forth, for long minutes at a time when there is nothing there. His posture as he walks is slow and he holds his body strangely, as if bruised and nursing the wound. It is clear he attempts to hide it to an extent, but my eyes are too sharp for him to escape.

Assisting in the movement of materials from his people, the sleeve of his shirt slipped from his wrist and the faintest hint of a wound appeared for a moment before the fabric covered the sight once more. I cannot determine what it is, but it appeared to be dry and patchy, coated in a soothing cream. It was only in that one area I saw, but perhaps it is hidden beneath the rest of his clothing.

Knowing not what it came from nor what it entails, I can only make guesses as to what it is and how. But it pains him, or at least irritates.

I am almost ashamed to admit it, but the thought of his suffering brings me a sense of satisfaction, for if anyone deserves retribution, it is Fintan Pyren.

Yet despite our hatred, he is here. And we are desperate.

There will come a time when these woven walls will not be enough to protect us, or where they will falter and we will become the targets instead. I believe our closeness with the forests of the world aids in hiding our presence, but we cannot rely on that.

We have discussed, and for the sake of those who come after us, for the sake of the animals suffering below us, and for the sake of helping because we should, we have agreed to enter a temporary truce with Fintan Pyren and his associates.

For though his presence is a stain on those around him, he has a history of results, and we can prioritize when it matters.

And right now, it matters.

....................

Ears ringing as the room bobbed and distorted like she’d just spent an hour flailing around in a roller coaster, Sophie set the book in her lap, pressing her fingers to her face to rub at her eyes, trying to control her breathing.

They’d said yes. The gnomes had said yes. Murad had asked for their help and they’d said yes, then they’d found out he was working with Fintan and they still said yes.

All because they wanted to save the environment, protect the forest, rescue and care for the animals more than they needed to hate him.

It was either the most idiotic or selfless decision she’d ever heard anyone make. Maybe both.

“Everything good over there?” Dex called from across the room, though it took her a minute to process the words as her mind ran over everything.

“Mmhmm,” she managed, sighing as she leaned back in the chair. Part of her brain attempted desperately to pull her under and let her rest, trying to hold onto to the kind-of normal sleep schedule she’d managed to create for herself in the months after they’d defeated the Neverseen. It’d taken enough work to get to where she was now, able to actually fall asleep in a reasonable amount of time at the appropriate time of day. That part of her was loath to ignore the call in case it set her back.

But the louder part of her knew that any setback was worth it, even if she didn’t like what she heard.

“That sound doesn’t sound good at all--what are you even reading?” Tam asked, interrupting himself. “Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”

Sophie shook her head. “It cannot.”

“Nice avoiding the first question.”

“I…” she started, cheeks burning. “Well. It’s--fine.” She had no reason to keep it secret, and she’d been planning on sharing what she learned with everyone so they were all better informed, but if she shared things too early then people had questions and she’d be fielding them until she actually finished.

Plus, they all looked so content sitting in a huddle together, Dex’s inventions-in-progress organized before them as they collaborated. She hated to disturb that.

Wylie made an expectant face, waiting in the silence as she continued to say nothing.

“You’re all so stubborn,” she mumbled, hugging her arms to her chest for comfort, wings buzzing behind her with nerves. “It’s the diary I found in my house, the gnome’s diary. I…whoever wrote it seemed to keep track of a lot, so I’m reading it to learn what happened here. Why this place is abandoned, where they went. We know they’re gone, but we don’t know what happened so…I’m trying to find out to see if anything will help.”

“Have you found anything?” Dex asked, furrowing his brow as he delicately attached something or another in his current project.

“...Yeah.” She didn’t elaborate.

“Are you going to share what it is?”

“Not yet. I will, but only once I’m done. Because everyone is going to have questions and it’s….it’s a lot. So I’ll finish reading--it’s in gnomish, so there isn’t exactly anyone else who can right now--and then I’ll share it. Because everything is mixed in with all the other parts of daily life, things like tending to gardens and issues with weather, things like that.”

“Everything? What does everything entail? Actually wait, no, don’t answer that. I have a different question,” Wylie started, wings shifting smoothly behind him as he shook himself off to refocus. “Are you okay?”

Sophie startled, blinking a few times before the question sunk in. Was she okay? She hadn’t stopped to consider whether or not she was, instead pushing it aside because this took priority, but of course her friends would step in and make sure she wouldn’t forget. How could she with their brows creased like that, their arms crossed, hands falling at their sides like they wanted to reach out but didn’t know if they should. Even Dex had set down his work-in-progress to look for her answer.

“No,” she finally whispered, covering her face with her hands. “There’s so much happening and I don’t know what we’re going to do. We’re going to figure it out, and we’re going to win. But I don’t know how, and I don’t know what it’ll cost. If we’ll be able to pay the price.”

Silence flooded the room until footsteps crossed the rug, a hand settling on her shoulder; she lowered her hands.

Tam stood next to her and after a moment, opened his arms, an invitation. She took it.

Standing, she wrapped her arms around him, his own settling gently on her back, careful to avoid touching her wings. She had no such reservations; his weren’t delicate like hers. Holding on tight, she rested her forehead on his shoulder, trying to keep her breathing even.

More footsteps sounded and more arms joined the hug, the four of them all in one confusing entanglement in the middle of the night, the world silent around them as she gathered herself back together, blinking away the burning in her eyes.

After a while, she relaxed her grip, stepping back, avoiding looking back at all the eyes looking at her as she cleared her throat. “Thanks for that. Sorry. It’s just a lot. Everything with Phoenix and Keefe…it’s just a lot,” she repeated, her tongue awkward in her mouth.

“Are you sure with all that you’re up to reading that diary right now? It can’t end well, not with your reaction so far and…you know…this place being abandoned,” Dex trailed off, folding his arms over his chest.

She thought it over for a moment, but expressing the burden, even if she didn’t explain it, had helped. “Yeah. Yeah I’ll be okay. I mean it,” she emphasized as they made doubting faces at her.

“Okay,” was all Tam said with a nod, turning away to go back to what he was doing, trusting her judgment, trusting her to be honest with them. The others followed suit and she found herself sinking back into her chair, lining up almost perfectly with the butt imprint she’d left.

She flipped open the diary to where she’d left off and hoped history would rewrite itself by the time she read it, hoping for a change in a story already signed with such finality.

....................

Day 41:

Work has begun. Our temporary visitors have established themselves in their houses around the village, though now with hindsight it may have been more prudent to sequester them close together with one another. Instead, they are intermingled with us. We thought it no concern when altering our buildings, as we hadn’t realized those who would inhabit them aligned themselves with Fintan Pyren.

Fintan Pyren and the man in the red cloak. It is now that I realize I still don’t know his name; he hasn’t shared it and now we do not want to know. It is our new goal to endure this partnership until the goal of revitalizing the forest and curing the animals comes to fruition.

That brings me back to the work that has begun.

I do not understand what they are doing, but I cannot deny that whatever is happening, it is doing something. For today I saw one of the animals--from afar, of course, but closer than I have ever been safely near before.

Fintan Pyren and his companion used the space we cleared over a month ago, and it was truly a frightening spectacle to watch. As much as I despise the two of them, the thought of watching them mauled to death by whatever lives below us still makes me ill. Not out of concern for them, but of the cruelty of the act itself.

I needn't have worried, for they returned unharmed.

More so, they returned unharmed after close proximity with one of the affected animals.

You understand me correctly. They were breaths away, and yet returned unharmed. I suppose I should elaborate; my awe is no reason to forego my duties.

It was not both of them standing close, that was only Fintan Pyren. The other in the red cloak climbed into a nearby tree with reachable branches once the animal approached. He was out of harm's way yet had the clearest view of anyone. We watched from the bridges up above as best we could, though the distance remained vast. The child was nearby the entire time, watching from the bridge with a manner of curiosity I would not have expected from one like her; up close the vibrant red of her curls is shocking, as endearing as those dresses she likes to wear.

That is not the matter I mean to focus on, however.

Fintan Pyren stood alone within the clearing as their test began, though I do not know what they are testing. The animal was wretched, the poor thing. Its teeth were most crooked in a way that must’ve made it painful to bite down, and the skin around its claws had been rubbed raw and red, as though the claws themselves did not fit into its body. It crept forward on all four legs, bones shifting beneath the skin and illuminating its patchy color, perhaps from sun exposure, perhaps from prior injuries. It looked ready to fall apart on itself, and hungry.

Life cannot be easy for a creature such as that.

It made a noise from the back of its throat, one that had those of us on the bridge taking a step back, though we could not avert our eyes. That noise is one you hear before carnage.

Stretching its limbs out to make itself appear larger, it growled once more, taunting, ready to pounce

And yet Fintan Pyren made no movement, eyes only watching the creature as his death stalked closer.

It is difficult to believe what happened next, so sure were we that we were to be witnesses to his last moments.

But as it finally made to charge, he reached out his hand--not in preparation for any flame, but instead as though to touch it. As he did, his sleeve fell down once more and I could envision in my mind the patchy skin I had glimpse. Even from a distance we swore that, for a moment, a fire burned within his skin, visible beneath the patches.

Some part of me recoiled from it almost instinctively, though I do not understand why.

And then the creature recoiled suddenly, as though struck. It quieted, and slowed its approach, bowing its head with a whimper. It was like it transformed, one moment an uncontrollable, dangerous beast intent on ripping its prey to shreds, and the next it was docile as a pet.

Only then did Fintan Pyren move, taking a step closer until he indeed did touch it, placing his open palm atop the affected animal’s head, holding it there for a moment until he backed away again and the animal turned, crawling away back into the forest, and if it had a tail I swear it would’ve been between its legs.

I don’t know what this means for their plan or how they have achieved what I watched transpire, but I know that history was just made in the clearing outside my home. Never before has an affected animal reacted or interacted with anyone with such manner of poise without fatality, of that I am certain. I heard enough tales from those still living underground to know that much.

Could their goal truly be achievable? I expected observation and notation from those living here now, not for them to throw themselves into interactions with such expediency. I believe their plan to be more complex and further in motion than they have otherwise indicated, but they would know that such a display today would clue the rest of us in on whatever it may be.

So why still choose to proceed? Is their goal so important it matters not who knows anymore? Or do they believe us unable to do anything about it given how remote and cut off our location? I cannot be certain, but I do know that there is something I do not know.

And I intend to find it out.

....................

Fintan had touched one of the monsters? That was months before Sophie and her friends had run away from the Underground and found they could co-exist. And the only reason they’d been able to do so, though they didn’t know it at the time, was because they were part monster themselves.

So how did Fintan do it?

She could envision the clearing in her mind with perfect detail, had looked around the place a little when waking up beside Wylie. Fintan Pyren, an elf, had stood there and touched a monster without it tearing him to shreds.

It didn’t make any sense. It didn’t match any of the things she knew about that time.

Was he a monster, too? Was he like her and her friends? She’d seen his back, had seen the scars and marrs and cracks and stumps, had seen the wings that had never grown. The gnome had mentioned patchy skin on his arm, but when she’d seen Fintan it had spread a significantly further than just an arm. Was more hidden beneath his shirt that the gnome couldn’t see?

What kind of observation involved touching a monster? What kinds of tests were they performing?

What had Fintan done in that clearing?

....................

Day 43:

It is a good thing there is no one else reading these notes, for they would not believe what I am about to write. It is as unbelievable as it was to be found in the forest despite our isolating and for them to bring Fintan Pyren here, to a gnomish settlement.

Everything seems to center around him now. Whatever he has planned, this Murad, for I have finally learned his name, it has everything to do with Fintan Pyren. I can see them talking in quiet voices, though I know not of what. Perhaps it is in one of those conversations that they came to the conclusion to try what they have today.

Never before have I locked my door, for it doesn’t even have a lock, but today I moved a chair in front of it as some measure of defense, for he has brought an animal into the village.

Not just any animal, but one of the affected. A part of me is shamed by my fear and desire to stay away from it, for I pride myself on an open nature and respect for those suffering. But a louder part of me recognizes that these animals are not well and cannot be trusted to be safe. I fear for those who tread near them, as cautious as they are, it takes no time at all to end a life, and while we may be returned to the earth and flourish as we take on the change, we have no desire to do so prematurely. I fear especially for that girl, though I haven’t spoken with her. She is brash and bold enough I have no doubt she’d approach the animal.

It is the same animal he touched a few days before, the one we have seen him return to. This one seems to be a trial run to see if whatever they are attempting will be successful. They have not shared the extent of their plans with us, only asked for space in which to work near to the forest. Those they’ve brought with them trade with us amicable smiles and polite waves, trying to stay out of our way as much as we try to stay out of theirs.

But overlap is inevitable. We see their descent to the forest floor and we see him reach out to touch the same animal again and again, as though centuries of domestication have taken place in days.

When he returns we sometimes cross paths and I can see the thick sheen of sweat on Fintan Pyren’s brow that he wipes away. I can see the skin on his arm has grown more discolored, and patchy, and it appears he has been scratching at it for a great many lines run over the area. Whatever he is doing requires a great deal of energy on his part, and I do not know if it is sustainable.

For the sake of all of us, I hope, for once, that he is successful.

....................

Day 47:

There is another now. Completely distinct from the first, this new creature is instead covered in fur rather than bald skin, and about half the size. Its head still goes up to the height of an elf, but it is still smaller. This one, too, was brought up by Fintan Pyren.

Is he domesticating them? I cannot tell, but I can think of no other explanation. And yet such a process should not be so quick, especially after the history of violence and uncontrollability we have witnessed. The Ruewens would not have left their pastures so frightfully if there was such an obvious solution. I may not have ever met the pair myself, but I hear others speak of how committed they are, the care they give those under their jurisdiction. They would not have left unless every other option had been exhausted, so Fintan Pyren must be doing something unknown to the other elves.

I will figure it out, but it proves to be difficult. There is no sign of anything physical when I cross paths with him. He has no device with him, no restraints or treats for the animals the way I’ve seen other rowdy animals dealt with. It is just him alone in that clearing, all the people now living here assembling to watch and take notes. The child moves closer to the edge of the bridge each time and I fear one day she will walk right off. He must relish the attention.

Some trick of the mind it must be, some variation of an elven talent. That is the theory I am currently working with to explain how nothing changes, similar to how some elves read minds and emotions. No one else can see anything transpire, and yet something happens. The comparison seems too similar to be dismissed, but there are aspects that don’t quite fit.

He is a pyrokinetic, as they call them. With his dangerous command of flames, there should be nothing else he is capable of. I myself haven’t spent very long around elves, but our species are so interwoven I cannot help but know a few things. One of those things is that elves do not have more than one ability. Exceptions to this are incredibly rare and appear only alongside a specific second ability. The only exception to this exception to the rule is the moonlark, who I’ve only heard stories about. They say she has more than she knows what to do with, but that it is the result of interference with nature. Even then, she was a child when she gained her additional abilities.

Fintan Pyren is not a child. He should be far outside the age range for gaining more, and even if he had a second, it would not be whatever it is he is doing now. This is something entirely new.

But there is something my mind keeps focusing on. If the moonlark was able to defy so many expectations and rules of her species because of the changes made to her, what is keeping Fintan Pyren from attempting the same?

....................

Sophie’s stomach dropped, her tongue turning sour and thick as she stared at the words, at the entry, at the implications. The thought of being compared to Fintan Pyren…they were nothing alike, was what she wanted to say, to scream at this gnome who didn’t even know her.

This gnome had only heard of her, who were they to say Fintan was anything like her?

But then a pained face floated into her mind, tears dried on his face as she told him that it was exactly that that made villains so scary. Because they were more like us than we ever wanted them to be.

Having to acknowledge that everyone was in the grey area, that you couldn’t just label someone as black or white because you wanted to. Everything was complicated; you couldn’t escape that.

And the gnome wasn’t even saying that she and Fintan were doing the same things, and that’s what mattress: her actions. They were theorizing that the way Fintan was interacting with the monsters could’ve been a new ability, and that maybe the way he could have another was if he was genetically different like her.

But…that didn’t make any sense.

All of her extra abilities had been a part of her from the beginning, even if she hadn’t manifested them yet. She couldn’t just add another to suit her needs. Everything was already determined by her genetics, even if they were altered.

Fintan couldn’t just pick up another ability; they didn’t work like that. The gnome’s theory held weight for someone who wouldn’t know everything about weird extra abilities, but Sophie knew more than almost everyone with all her experience.

You couldn’t give yourself a new one.

So then the question was…what was Fintan doing with those animals? Being able to approach them, to make them docile, enough that he brought them into the village?

She’d never seen anything like that before.

Wait.

She’d never seen anything like that.

She’d never seen Fintan in control of any of the creatures, had never seen them docile enough near him that he could touch them. The only ones she’d ever seen him close to without attacking it was Phoenix’s monster, who listened to Phoenix, and Marella’s dragon, which had been gravely injured at the time.

How had he gone from touching them to never being near them?

A horrible, horrible feeling settled itself in the back of her mind. He hadn’t shown any sign of being able to control them now…but if he once had…

“You’re making a face and it is not a good face,” Tam said out of nowhere, sudden enough that she flinched as she turned to look at him. She could see as he registered her expression, whatever it was making the scrunched up look on his face fade away as his heart rate picked up, paling as he leaned forward, about to say something when Wylie beat him to it.

“What happened?”

Sophie swallowed, mouth dry. “I think I figured out how the village died.”

....................

Day 51:

The nighttime noises have returned. They had quieted for days, growing lesser and lesser each night since Fintan Pyren first stood in that clearing until they disappeared entirely. As the moon illuminated our little village in the trees, you could hear the sounds of the birds, the hushed whisper of wind in the trees, hear the songs of the flower petals as they fell to the forest floor.

Those peaceful nights are no more.

Now there are howls and groaning, the trees shaking as claws are dragged through the bark. I fear to look over the edge, lest I scare myself out of my mind, but I cannot stand not knowing even more. So this night I peered down in the darkness; it was hard to make out in the shadows, but the animals from the forest seem to be anxious, moving about and with more fanfare than they have before.

Fintan Pyren stirs and turns in his sleep, enough that I can hear it through the walls as I walk by, his incessant muttering and shaking breaths unsettling enough I always walk faster when I’m near.

I do not like to be close to him, but I cannot deny that in order to learn anything that is going on I must observe him. His companion, Murad, proves to be unhelpful. His face is in a constant state of passivity; I believe there to be nothing on this earth that can inspire a genuine expression from him. He only watches, speaks in hushed tones, and makes notes.

It is as though whatever he is doing has taken up so much of his attention and is so important that he cannot spare the time to experience anything else. The smiles and laughter I overhear sound too loud, as though they have escaped him in a moment of weakness as he loses his careful manner. I fear whatever he has endured to make him so scrupulous with his presentation.

Entirely the opposite is Fintan Pyren. More than restless sleep, he has fallen out of his careful aloofness. Perhaps Murad has stolen it from him. No more does he walk through the village as though he is full of secrets and revelry. There are no more quiet smiles and amused reactions when he sees the faces we make when he is near.

Now it is as though he has no consideration for anything but making it through the day. He walks stiffly, and when he thinks no one is looking, because no one ever notices my attention, he pauses and sways where he stands. His fingers tighten on the railings as he pushes himself forward, acting as though he is making his last stand at each moment.

All color has faded from his skin, and even now his clothing is not enough to hide whatever is the matter. The scratches he inflicts upon himself and the dry discoloration have spread out of his sleeves, out of the top of his collar. No one says a word but everyone has seen; we all wonder what, exactly, is wrong with him.

Ah. Pardon the ink smear on the page. I flinched at a particularly close howl in the night. I feel as though these animals want something, so strange is their behavior. But there is nothing that I can do about it. I know not what they want or how to keep them under control.

If they even are still under control.

....................

Day 53:

I am a fool for writing at a time like this. I should be running. I should escape. But there is nowhere to escape to. I know not where to go nor how I would do so.

They are screaming just outside the door. I have hidden myself in the corner beside the bed, hoping that if I crouch small enough I will go unnoticed and overlooked. It is a space small enough that I didn’t even know it was here when I rushed through the door.

He has lost control. He has lost control and now the animals are here.

They learned how to climb on their own.

The noises grew and grew each night and when the sun set on this day Fintan Pyren finally collapsed. His skin clammy as his eyes rolled back, patchy skin on display, broken and cracked, whatever attempt he was making at saving the world to make it his own falling into pieces.

Maybe I’m remembering wrong. Maybe the he panic of the moment makes the memory different in my mind. But I could’ve sworn the thud of his body hitting the ground made the animals all laugh. For it was in the same instant that his head hit the wood that the howls and monstrous screams began.

And then chaos.

They came from the edges of the village, all descending towards the center, all towards Fintan Pyren. There was no reason, no calm, nothing but blood lust in their eyes. Death and rebirth is the way of nature but this was not natural. This was uncontrolled violence.

I fled. I turned and ran as the screams grew, trying to tell those I passed to do the same, to find somewhere safe.

Nowhere is safe. Even the scratch of my pen against the paper is dangerous. What if they hear it? But how could they with all the commotion outside.

I keep writing because I don’t know what else to do. What is there left to say?

Fintan Pyren collapsed and I haven’t a clue where Murad is and there are creatures tearing the village apart. Tearing my friends apart.

It is oh so easy to say that we should not have agreed to help them. That of course it would end in ruin. But I cannot help but be proud of my people for making the choice to try and help these animals, even at this expense.

We tried. We failed. But we tried.

Oh. I can hear a voice above all the others. It’s that little girl, the one with the bright curls. She’s calling out. I must find her. I must help her.

I will make note if I can so we are remembered.

....................

Sophie’s fingers trembled as she skimmed her fingers over the page, afraid to turn it. If there was no addition, no continuation, then she’d just read this gnome’s last words. But if there was more, then that gnome had been subjected to more, to worse.

She turned the page.

There was a final note, but in entirely different handwriting.

If you are reading this, do not let Murad know that you have found it.

She recognized that handwriting. It was the same as the note she’d washed down the drain from Fintan Pyren.

Next to it was a small, shaky little bee drawn, bulbous and soft, quite similar to a certain stuffed animal she’d found alongside this diary. And she knew exactly who had drawn it.

Phoenix.

#kotlc wings au #shattered upside down #quil's quill #kotlc fanfic #i hope you like lore because that is. that is all of this #also sorry (not) for comparing this chapter to twilight in the ao3 notes #but like. i'm right so #anyway have fun!!

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frostironfudge · 2 years

Text

Sparkle - Bucky Barnes (one shot)

Summary: this is my entry for @pellucid-constellations 's #loveletterswritingchallenge i sincerely enjoyed writing this, it was so much of fun to come up with a story that left me all fuzzy and happy.

Pairing: bestfriend!bucky x plus size female!reader (set in an AU)

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Sharon Carter, Brock Rumlow, Natasha Romanoff, Winnie Barnes, Rebecca Barnes

Warnings: fluff, angst, recount of bullying comments experienced by the reader, mentions of fatphobic comments, fluff, mentions of anxiety attacks, swearing, mutual pining, no smut, sam and natasha have the braincell in the two friendships. please note if any of this triggers you please do not read. you are responsible for the media you consume.

A.N: this is my first time writing a plus sized reader, being plus sized i've always wanted to explore writing for a reader who looks like me, i hope i've done well, if not i will strive to improve my writing so please be kind, thank you. that being said, i am immensely proud of what i have written.

Word Count: 8432

dividers are by the lovely @firefly-graphics

masterlist // Ao3

seven.

‘dear y/n,

your sparkle pens are really pretty

i will share my new crayons if you share your sparkle pens.

-bucky’

‘dear bucky,

i want the blue crayon, you pick a sparkle colour, i will share it with you

-y/n’

‘dear sparkle,

i want the purple sparkle, because its your favourite, i wanna be your favourite too.

-bucky’

‘dear bucky,

you are my favourite.

and you can have the purple sparkle.

-sparkle’

‘dear sparkle,

i think we are going to be best friends.

-bucky’

‘dear bucky,

i think so too.

-sparkle’

Fifteen.

“what do you mean you are moving away?” You ask, confusion laces through your features.

“It means I have to go to a new city, my dad got a new job, they gave him a fancy house. Sparkle I don’t want to move.” Bucky is looking sullen, his blue eyes hold a sadness that is slowly seeping into his heart with every minute that passes.

It is slowly sinking in what is going to happen, he has go leave everything here, his childhood home, the mini play house at the backyard, this swing set you both have been sitting on since time began, and you.

“Will you come back, Bucky?” You wonder, not being able to fathom or imagine not having Bucky next to you, everything you both did you did together.

From filling the backpack of Brock Rumlow with whipped cream because he was bullying the younger kids on the block to stealing freshly baked cookies from the counter and confusing your mother on her number of cookies count.

Hiding in the small room you both discovered behind his wardrobe, eating snacks and possibly talking to a ghost lurking in the shadows.

Bucky and you were both skeptical about the ghost, so what if the chocolate was moved right when you said the ghost should move it?

Bucky’s eyes refocus onto your hunched over form, as you wrote something on a piece of paper. He’d miss this exchanging of notes between the two of you.

Folding the paper you hand it over, heart cracking as realisation dawns upon you when you watch Winnie Barnes and your mother put the last of the kitchen appliances into their boxes.

Winnie gestures for Bucky to come back inside. Bucky’s fingers tighten around your little note.

He takes one glance at you, trying to remember you so he doesn’t forget he’s so scared to forget.

He won’t but it scares him, so much.

You watch as he returns back inside, leaving you on the swing set. You look down at the indented grass.

Would the earth ever cover up the memories that your tiny pairs of feet created upon her?

Or would these indents serve as your only reminder?

Later that night when everyone else is asleep in the half empty home.

Bucky pulls out the note from his pocket, smoothening the paper against his duvet the white paper glows yellow in the lamp light.

‘dear bucky,

please don’t forget about me,

you’re going to make new friends, you’re going to have an amazing time there, you will have fun and the house will be nice, i could come visit maybe, or you could, we can write letters?

you’re my best friend, i love you.

i miss you already.

-sparkle’

His bright blue eyes settle on the small picture frame on his bedside that houses his favourite picture of the two of you, simultaneously having broken the same tooth and holding up the evidence with gleeful toothless smiles in anticipation for the tooth fairy.

Bucky wiped his cheek when he felt something warm, the salty tears finding him, why does that stupid fancy house have to be far away from all that he wants?

<><><><><>

“Why does he have to go mum? Bucky can stay with us, he can take my room!” You offer for the umpteenth time since your return.

“Baby, we spoke about this, his dad has a job offer and it will be good for them, Bucky will be happy and—,”

“NO! He isn’t happy none of you want to listen.” You scream at her.

Your mom’s gaze softens, she sits down on the couch, tucking your hair back,

“Are you sad that James has to leave?” She wonders, you nod, lip wobbling.

“I know it can be a lot to handle right now, you and James are both very brave and such good kids that you are listening to us, but baby this is something that will help their family. Do you understand? It will be good for them. It will be a lot to go through, but sweetheart they need this change.” You mom holds both your hands between her palms.

“But he will forget me, I, Mum he’s my best friend, my only friend.” You can’t stop the tears now, the fear of losing Bucky and him possibly forgetting who you are coursing rampant through you.

“Oh sweetheart, best-friends never forget each other, no matter the distance no matter if they speak regularly or not.” She gently wipes your tears away, kissing your cheek.

You retreat to your room, laying head down on the bed and letting more tears pour out.

Nineteen.

You stare at the calendar, hanging by your desk, if you could you would burn a hole through today’s date.

Barnes’ moving in day.

Those four words stare at you, mockingly. Four and a half years ago he moved away, ripping your duo apart.

Countless letters, left without reply, not a reply even to the funny birthday card you sent, so you stopped writing after nine months of radio silence.

Maybe he did forget you.

<><><><><><>

Month 1

‘Dear Bucky,

I hope you’ve moved in fully now, i miss you. Watching pixar movies without you does not feel right.

How is the weather there? Mom told me it is much more warmer and does not rain as often.

Have you gone to school yet? I hope you have fun there, write back soon.

-Sparkle.’

Month 4

‘Dear Bucky,

happy sixteenth birthday!

i know we had planned those star shaped candles like that one movie so i found them! I’ll ask mum to tell your mum to take a picture, i found two sets of candles so i’m keeping one for myself and i exchanged the blue and purple.

i miss you.

i hope school is easier, still sucks here, remember i told you Rumlow tried to steal lunch money last month? He tried it again, i threw my chocolate milk on his head.

You would have laughed so much.

Though I regret it because I didn’t have an extra chocolate milk. You would have kept an extra one for me. I miss laughing with you.

i love you bucky.

Hope you write back soon.

-sparkle.’

Month 5

‘Dear Bucky,

I sent in that story I wrote! I’ll tell you if I won or not, Rumlow is being a dickhead. Don’t tell Winnie I taught you the word dickhead or I’ll tell her the f word is what you taught me.

-Sparkle’

‘Dear Bucky,

I won second place!, I’m sending a snippet from the paper! Do you remember? This is about the chocolate moving ghost in your room.

Are there any ghosts in your new room?

Write soon, I miss you and your handwriting.

-Sparkle.’

<><><><><>

Winnie and your mom spoke every two weeks on the phone, you would catch tail ends of the conversations.

As did Bucky, he would stand behind the kitchen entryway, to eavesdrop;

“I know, I’ve tried talking to him about it, I know Y/N’s upset, I’m so sorry. I’ll try speaking to him again. Oh, I won’t. I’ll see if he will, oh and yes did you catch the episode,”

Bucky tuned out his mother’s words retreating to his room he had gone out to grab the mail, little did he know he was holding your last letter from the mailbox.

He sighed as his fingers traced over the envelope, the paper too familiar under his fingertips.

He glanced at the purple candle in his pen holder cup.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to reply, he just couldn’t bring himself to do so, he met people at his school. Friends now who were in a similar situation as him.

They all said friends forget or they don’t write back, its easier rather than being hurt over losing a friend. A best friend.

Bucky looked at the stack of letters he attempted to write back to you.

‘Dear Sparkle,

I don’t like it here, they closest theatre is an hour away and Pixar without you just sucks.

It has been a week, i got your letter, people at school say long distance friendships don’t last and people forget each other.

We aren’t like that. We are best friends, we won’t forget each other. I am scared that it might happen, but it won’t right?

- Bucky’

Bucky sighs, turning the letter around in his hands, as his gaze falls onto the birthday envelope he made for you.

‘Dear Sparkle,

I’m sending a blue candle, you won’t believe it they just had one purple and blue candle remaining! You know just like the movie? when you make a wish can you wish for me to come back?

i’m going to ask if i can visit.

i miss you so much, sparkle.

-Bucky’

Bucky puts on a brave face, your letter feeling heavy in his hands, he opens the envelope and unfolds your twelfth letter to him, it has been nine months, he hasn’t sent out the letters nor did he come on the phone when his mom would urge him.

Month 9

‘Dear Bucky, Barnes,’

Bucky’s stomach took a tumble, you only called him Barnes when you were mad at him.

‘It has been hard, I don’t know how much mum told your mum. Dad well, just things fuck.

Things haven’t been that great since you left, mum says that things have gotten better for your family, i’m glad to hear that but i still miss you, you haven’t returned any of my letters and it probably is annoying you or maybe you forgot about me, i hope your new friends are great and school goes well for you. I’m not trying to imply that you should feel bad or guilty or that you should feel guilty, its just, it was nice to have a friend? Now I don’t.

It has gotten hard here for several reasons, i don’t want to bore you, if you are even reading the letters.

on my birthday i used the blue candle on a cupcake, i wished you would come back. I don’t think that will come true. Remember the cupcakes we baked with your mum? I used that recipe.

I don’t think I will be writing anymore, I don’t want to bother you or remind you of things that you may have forgotten. or wanted to forget.

still love you bucky, you’re my best friend.

- Sparkle Y/N.’

Bucky couldn’t read the paper anymore, the colours blended together before he blinked his tears away. Your handwriting just a muddled blur of ink. You’re saying goodbye to him, you’re hurting and he just added to it.

“Bucky?” Winnie Barnes enters her child’s room, brows furrowed in worry as his shoulders shake.

“She won’t write anymore.” Is all he says, turning around to hug his mother.

“Oh sweetheart, she is hurt, you haven’t written back, I know you have unsent letters,” She pulls away from him, running a hand through his hair and wiping his tears.

“Why don’t you send one? She is having a hard time at home. It will cheer her up.” Winnie offers, Bucky shakes his head.

“James…”

“Mum they don’t last these friendships all my friends here are just,” Bucky lets out an exasperated sigh.

“James Barnes.” His mom uses her warning tone.

“Y/N has been your best friend since you both were in diapers. You write her a letter and send it over, I know it is hard, I know it hurts you too, but I can’t watch you let this friendship fade away. Understood? It will be her choice if she wants to write back and you have to respect that.”

Bucky nods going to his desk and bringing out a pen and paper. Winnie pats his head, smiling at him as he begins writing what he wants to say to you.

Nineteen.

Bucky looks sullen, they’re moving back, couldn’t get the old house house three down from yours but they got the one right next to your home.

He wanted to be mad at you for not responding to his letter but he never held it against you, maybe he was too late.

“Bucky?” Winnie looks at him through the rearview mirror, she had taken over driving the remaining leg of the journey. They were going to stay at your house and that had him on edge.

“Yeah Ma?” He meets her gaze, knowing she probably caught onto his nerves. He had taken the semester off from university his dad’s untimely demise had left an aching hole between his family. They were healing but Bucky felt lost.

“It will be okay, between you both.” She assures him, then gazes at Rebecca who is fast asleep in the passenger seat.

“I hope so.” He says, fiddling with his jacket.

<><><><><>

You made cupcakes, the very ones you had learned to make from Winnie, you had spoken to her after you decided to stop the letters, she wasn’t angry as you had expected. She knew Bucky had messed up and had told you about his letter. You never read it. Just looking at it made your burst into tears.

So you tucked it away in the box labelled Sparkle and Bucky, where you stored away the trinkets collected till age fifteen and his unopened letter.

You pulled your thoughts away and onto the upcoming months you were visiting a publication expo due to the deferral year you took from university. Independently writing for a magazine, running your own blog of micro poetry and pieces was doing okayish.

However an internship with an independent publication house made you realise working in this industry is where you would thrive.

The car coming to a halt outside had your mother squeal and run out, then two squeals could be heard followed by laughter. You went up to the door, eyes on Winnie and your mother, a clicking sound made you look at the source.

Bucky brought the camera down from covering his face, as he grinned admiring the two best friends, his hair longer and he seemed much more taller and you notice how much more bigger his biceps have gotten.

“Oh, Y/N!” Winnie calls you with glee, “Look at you! All grown up the pictures you mother sent do no justice to how beautiful you are,” She bounds up at steps arms outstretched you smile with a blush warming your cheeks.

“You’re too kind.” You mumble, you know your features are sweet but the weight you’ve gained along the way would at times make you think otherwise.

“Oh nonsense.” She dismisses your attempt to take the compliment, “Beautiful.” She tucks your hair back, placing a kiss to your cheek.

Rebecca follows her mom giving you a kiss on the cheek and a warm sleepy hug.

“Okay you can go crash in my room.” You laugh as she yawns out a thank you, swiftly making her way upstairs.

Bucky is unloading the bags, you put your hands in the back pocket of your jeans contemplating.

The mothers share a look, “Y/N why don’t you go help James?” Your mom says, you shoot her a look, Winnie pulls her inside before you can catch onto their little planning.

Bucky hits his head on the trunk door when he sees you stand next to him.

“Shit,” He rubs his head, looking at you, pausing as he takes in your appearance. You feel small under his towering form, you both don’t say anything for a while just standing there, awkwardly.

What do you even say to your long lost best friend?

“I’m sorry.” Bucky verbal vomits the apology without thinking, you raise an eyebrow, “For um, for putting your mum and you through all this trouble.” He gestures around with his hand.

“Oh, um not really a problem.” You shrug and move to grab a bag from the trunk.

“Um, that is my camera equipment…” Bucky looks the bag with such admiration, you’re almost scared to put it back down.

“I can be careful… If you want to switch no problem…” You offer the bag and he switches. The trip back to the house is silent.

Some how both of you still manage to walk in sync.

Winnie tells you the major chunk of things are coming with the movers tomorrow as you and Bucky settle around the dining table with mugs of coffee.

“Bucky, mum tells me you’re into photography now?” Your mom smiles fondly at the boy in front of her, she did pinch his cheeks moments ago and Bucky knew she would do it again. He grinned.

“I am, yes, I run my own blog, did a few indie band shoots for their Instagram pages, also covered a friend’s wedding.”

Bucky talks animately and you find yourself smiling as he speaks fondly about his passion, blue eyes filled with pride and joy.

“Oh and this is the best thing that happened in a while.” Bucky pulls out his phone, “I have a friend, they have huge writing blog posted one of my photographs and held a competition and god the entries are all so great especially this one.” Bucky loads the comment.

“Wait a second, Y/N what is your blog’s name?” Your mom looks at you, your eyes widen in panic as realisation hits, Bucky reads the blog’s name and you nod.

“Holy shit, Sparkle! You’ve written such great stuff, I practically broke my phone reading and scrolling! I even showed Rebecca and Ma, god you’re talented and you even won that competition, Sparkle, damn—,” Bucky’s excited chatter stops when he realises he used your nickname and revealed the fact he read your letters.

“Excuse me.” Is all you say before running up to your room, voice on the verge of tears, Bucky stays in his seat, head in his palms.

“Just give her sometime.” Your mum assures him giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

“Don’t think she will give me more…” He takes a deep breath, “Should I?” He asks the two insightful women, they shake their heads.

“After dinner, I’ll send you both to pick up groceries then you can speak.” Winnie high fives her best friend.

Bucky looks between the pair questioningly and decides he wont wait, he grabs a notepad from his bag as he makes his way to the guest room.

‘dear sparkle y/n,

i’m sorry, i’m an idiot.

though i stand by it, your pieces are beautiful.

-bucky.’

He slips the note under your door and retreats to his designated room opposite to yours before you decide to slide it out.

Dinner passes by wordlessly on your part, only answering yes and no when spoken to directly. Bucky hopes to coax laughter out of you, so he tries making jokes but when you don’t respond to them he keeps quiet.

“Sweetheart, would you run to the store? We want to start the move earlier so a few groceries should be better bought earlier.” Your mom requests as you finish drying the dishes with Rebecca.

“Okay.” You take a once over of your appearance, deciding to keep wearing the superhero shirt and shorts.

“Do you have a list?” You ask Winnie who nods, Bucky is helping put away the dishes, so you think at least he may not tag along.

Winnie hands it to you, sheepishly smiling at the length of the list, “I know it is a lot but,”

“No, No, don’t worry about it. I-if I can’t find something I’ll let you know.” You look up at her, biting your bottom lip, Bucky looks at you as you shift from one foot to the other. You never did enjoy the task he recalls.

You smile at her, the prospect of the night drive is appealing.

“Oh Bucky has my card so he can tag along with you.” Winnie adds just as you grab your cardigan and purse, so much for enjoying the drive.

Bucky wonders if your shoulders stiffen because you’re uncomfortable. He almost backs out; trusting you with the pin of the card.

“Oh sure.” you say heading out the door to your car.

Bucky looks at the three women, they give him a thumbs up each. He wonders how much luck would he need to repair his friendship with you.

You’re waiting in the car, head on the wheel, “Just groceries, you don’t have to talk.” you mutter trying to soothe yourself.

Bucky opens the door and you straighten up too quickly, hitting your head on the lowered visor which snaps it back up with a thunk, “Ow.”

“You okay?” Bucky looks worried as you rub your head, the light in the car showing him your tinted cheeks, he chuckles.

“Are you laughing at me?” You ask, he pales.

“No-no I just, I hit my head in the afternoon and now you did… It reminded me of,” Bucky’s smile returns,

“The museum?” You laugh at the memory, both of you took a tumble down the steps to the museum getting scrapes on your knees, the injuries placed same but received at different hours.

Your smile doesn’t fade as you pull onto the road driving to the 24 hour store fifteen minutes away a comfortable silence takes over which is only broken by the light songs on the radio.

Bucky finds himself taking in your appearance, you have changed so little yet so much he thinks, the way you hold yourself with more confidence, when you aren’t worrying about how things are between the two of you.

Your laughter still the same that shines through him, the sound making him laugh even more than what the joke would be, god he missed you.

You could feel his eyes on you, you tug the shorts down, skin bunching as the hem tightens when you sit. A little self consciousness flooding through you.

Bucky notices the movement, his eyes trail over your thighs and he wonders briefly how they would feel wrapped around him if he lifted you up in a hug like before.

You are in the milk aisle when you hear the familiar snickers, Bucky was on the other end finding the flavoured yogurts Rebecca requested on text.

“I never knew cows came to inspect the milk.” Sharon Carter laughs, you roll your eyes a fake pleasantry smile on your face.

“Sharon, always a pleasure.” You turn back to grabbing the milk you need putting it into the cart.

Bucky’s eyebrows furrow when a taller man joins the blonde you were speaking to, he feels something off. He quickly grabs the selected boxes of yogurt and walks over.

You try moving forward when Brock Rumlow stops your cart. Great.

“Oh come on a deferral, just say the university has no space to accommodate your size.” Rumlow gives a hearty chuckle as Bucky’s jaw clenches.

“I thought I recognised the scared little bully.” Bucky says placing the items in the cart then standing next to you, “Was is shaving cream in your bag or was it whipped cream?” He reminds Brock who clenches his hand into a fist.

“Barnes?” Rumlow asks, Bucky nods.

“Oh this is rich,” Rumlow looks at you, you pale.

“Was it not his letter you roamed around with?” He asks, then Sharon smirks.

“Oh I remember! Oh Bucky they called me a fat pig, Oh Bucky I miss you.” She makes mocking smooching noises and you wince recalling their harsh words.

Bucky’s hand clenches on the cart’s handle.

“How did your universities accept bullies? Or did you get rejected since your bigheadedness take up more space than they could accommodate?” Bucky asks, pushing the cart harshly into Rumlow who moves giving way to move to the next aisle.

As you pass by them, “Fatty got left all alone and weak, if you hear her it sounds like a pig’s squeak.” Sharon belts out the old rhyme they came up with in school, you pause, Bucky is about to go punch Brock and you stop him, turning around with a bottle of chocolate milk in hand.

The two bullies don’t see it coming when you empty the entire one litre bottle on their heads as they are turned away. Both turn very slowly. Bucky pulls you back, both abandoning the cart and running through the aisles with Brock hot on your heels.

Bucky looks at you unable to help his laughter at what you did, you laugh with him and you both feel like you are twelve running away from Brock once again. Bucky leads you behind the frozen food aisle, pressing you against the wall and him facing you. The dry ice smell cascades around your senses.

Both of you breathing hard, Bucky feels the steady rise of your chest against his own, he looks down at you, you look up at him and his breath catches god your eyes hold that same sparkle that gave you your nickname when you both were seven.

His heartaches at how long it has been since he saw you happy with him there as witness.

When you look up at Bucky you didn’t understand the expression on his face it, it seemed as though longing muddled with happiness?

Your eyes flicker to his lips, parted to catch his breath. You dismiss the thought but not before it makes you blush. You look away to his hand still intertwined with yours, making you smile.

Bucky’s free hand twitches, wanting you to look back into his blue eyes.

“Where are you two?” Brock’s voice is close, Bucky and you slip back backing away quietly.

“Brock let it go, my dress is stained. Ugh.” Sharon complains much to your relief.

You both peek out from the aisle, sighing as the coast is clear.

You look at Bucky during the walk back to the abandoned cart his gaze is upon you, when your eyes meet, his lip twitches and you both break into a fit of giggles. Bucky wipes the tears from his eyes and you try to even out your breathing as the laughter calms down.

You take inventory of the cart frowning that you used the last bottle of chocolate milk for your plan, till an outstretched arm holds a smaller chocolate milk bottle in your vision.

Bucky has a small smile gracing his lips, azure eyes full of hope, “Saved you a bottle.”

Adoration courses through you and so does the love you hold for Bucky which had been tucked away.

You raise your arms and engulf him in a hug, Bucky is taken aback but quickly wraps his arms around you. Sighing as the ache on his heart is slowly fading into nothingness.

“I’m sorry I never wrote back, sparkle.” Bucky whispers, stroking your hair, the scent of vanilla grounding him.

“I’m sorry I didn’t read your letter. I was so mad at you.” You whisper back, tightening the hug.

“Rightfully so.” Bucky pulls away to look at you, you’re crying too, “God, I wish I could have been there, written back, you went through all this shit. I’m so sorry, sparkle.”

“It, its not okay but I think we can try again? Our friendship?” You look at him hopeful, he smiles, nodding and pulling you into a bear hug.

Bucky sniffles, “I did, I did write replies, when we unpack tomorrow, I’ll show you the letters.”

When you check into the hotel three months later, you furrow your eyebrows when the receptionist hands a letter addressed to you.

Smiling as you recognise Bucky’s handwriting you open it in the elevator too excited,

‘Dear Sparkle,

good luck on your first publishing exhibition/expo/experience you’re going to learn so much and beat all the people outta their seats, i kind of buttered up your mom to give me the address of your hotel.

i wanted us to start writing letters again, it has been something we did and shared and only if you’re comfortable then you can write back if it is difficult then we can stick to texts and sending memes.

i miss you, college is going okay, been about two weeks since i left home, god i still can’t believe the chocolate piece moved. do you think the ghost it latched to one of us?

love you sparkle, send me pictures from the trip.

-bucky’

You grin holding the letter to your chest as you walk into the room you share with the other intern at your work place.

Immediately you start writing a reply on the hotel stationary.

<><><><><><><>

Bucky sighs entering his apartment, who told him to major in journalism and history? Though being a photo journalist is something he wants to do dearly just the path of education is seemingly harder today.

He received your texts, smiling as he read how excited you were for everything going on at the publication expo, endless goofy pictures you sent him made his heart swell with adoration. It had been 4 days since he knows you received his letter.

He’s laughing while replying to the picture you sent him of an apple just lying underneath a traffic light, no idea why you both find it funny.

“Whose got Broody Barnes all happy?” Sam Wilson his room-mate says walking into the hall, dropping a stack of envelopes onto the table.

“Sparkle.” Bucky says, looking at a surprised Sam.

“The Sparkle?” Sam enquires, leaning over the couch and trying to peek at the texts.

“Yes.” Bucky locks the phone and Sam pouts, “Oh come on.”

“By the way there is some mail for you.” Sam informs, Bucky eagerly grabs the stack, sifting through and landing on the envelope bearing his name in your writing.

He quickly opens it, excitement flooding through his being.

‘Dear Bucky,

i can’t believe how you pulled off having the letter here before me, i read it in the elevator. I miss you too. i think the ghost moves around our neighbourhood.

i’m glad to hear college is going well, though i think doing a double major may be hard, i believe in you and your capability to get through it.

i think i might go ahead with the double major as well, I took a year’s deferral so, I don’t really know how will it go.

i’m proud of you.

love you too buck i’m sending you a picture as i write.

-sparkle.

ps. waiting for your next letter.’

Bucky can’t wipe the grin off of his face.

twenty three.

‘dear sparkle,

my recruitment week starts next week, i’m so nervous.

i really wish you were here. i know i can call you but it just won’t be the same.

all these questions are swirling in my mind, what if i do not get the placement i want? what if the internships i did were the wrong choice? what if my grades aren’t impressive?

you would know what to say, could you just give my interviews for me?

fuck, sparkle i don’t even know what pictures to put in my portfolio.

what kind of photographer does not know his strongest pictures?

i hope your exam week is going well, also you’re going to win that creative writing competiton that you’re worried about, send your piece to me so i can read it over, if you need an objective opinion? but i’m biased towards you. you will win it.

sorry to dump this on you, i know you’ve had a busy and hard week.

will you be visiting home for break? i might be depending on how the recruitment goes. maybe we could co-ordinate flights?

i miss you.

-bucky.’

You read Bucky’s letter on the night of exam week being over, most of the classes are done for the semester, an idea pops up in your head and you call your mom then Rebecca to get Bucky’s roommate’s number.

When Sam receives you at the train station and you can finally understand why Bucky trusts him immensely, Sam has this comforting aura that radiates warmth and safety, for a minute you wonder if Rutgers makes everyone go hard at the gym and wear more form sitting outfits because like damn, Sam.

“So whats with the nickname Sparkle?” Sam ponders never getting an answer out of his friend.

“No idea, Bucky gave it to me.” You shrug, realising you never really asked the question yourself.

“Oh come on, he won’t tell me either.” Sam whines, as he helps you with your bag into the elevator, you can only offer a sympathetic smile, “I’m as clueless as you buddy.” You pat his back.

“So you’re at Yale?” He asks as the two of you walk down the hallway.

“Yes, Psychology and English major. What do you study?”

“Aerospace Engineering.” Sam says with a grin.

“Wait you’re like smart, smart.” You comment.

Sam’s booming laughter infects you as you join in.

“Please say that in front of Bucky.” He requests and you grin nodding.

Sam opens the door carefully, when he knows for sure Bucky is in his room he lets you in and guides you to Bucky’s door.

“Good Luck.” He whispers backing away to take the video as you requested.

You raise your hand and knock, you can hear shuffling on the other side and a shirtless toned chest is what you are at eye level with, you gulp.

“What is it Sam—Sparkle?” Bucky blinks multiple times rapidly, “You, you’re here? I must be dreaming.” He says, and you hesitantly reach out to poke his arm.

“Hi.” You grin at him, Bucky’s jaw drops and he picks you up, making you wrap your legs around his waist as he twirls you around, you squeal holding onto him tightly.

“Bucky! Don’t you will—,” You try not to put too much weight on him, but he’s twirling you up like nothing.

“Doll, don’t say a word, I can do several push-ups with you sitting on me.” Bucky’s blue eyes find yours and they are shining bright, his cheeks are flushed with how much he is grinning.

“I know Mr. I can bench press triple digits.” Bucky’s helped you immensely to let go of the comments, he always only brought you resources to help you, checked in on your progress with your mental health. Never pushed you to do something you were uncomfortable with, he made sure you would have mental health check ins regularly. He caught on to your traits for being in an overload before you did.

The way the months went after you both cleared the air were a blur, as though the four years of the move never formed a deep ravine of hurt and despair. The entire moving in process was cathartic for the two of you, finally communicating and rebuilding the bridge over the gap that formed.

Bucky lets you down gently, pulling you back in for a hug. His woodsy pine scent mingling with the vanilla of your lotion, makes you feel right at home.

“What are you doing here?” Bucky’s surprise returns.

“Well somebody wanted to surprise somebody and I coordinated it.” Sam hands your phone back while he points from you to Bucky.

“Thanks Sam,” You grin at him.

“Anytime sweetheart.” Sam winks at you and you giggle.

Bucky’s eyebrows furrow, are you two flirting?

“I have an early day catch you both tomorrow.” Sam gives you another wink and departs to his room.

“You’re really here.” Bucky shakes his head in disbelief, hugging you tightly again, your warmth grounding him, the way you just fit into his arms like you belong there.

You bask in the warmth he provides, feeling his steady heartbeat, you could just stay this way.

Both Bucky and you stiffen slightly at the thoughts, pulling away.

“I am, now I believe you were having trouble with your portfolio.” You try to say teasingly, keeping your eyes on his face, bags under his eyes indicate his lack of sleep.

You hesitantly raise your hand to trace over his cheek, Bucky leans into your touch, shoulders relaxing in the relief he finds by your gesture.

<><><><><>

Bucky feels your fingertips lingering on his cheek even as you both are sprawled across his room’s floor, the photographs in transparent folders as you think over how to make up this segregation for the portfolio.

“Have you made a digital folder?” You wonder as your hands inch towards the picture of Winnie and your mom from the day they met again after years.

You could feel the warmth and love in the picture.

“All the pictures are coded so the ones in the physical one can go in a digital one which are watermarked.” Bucky runs his palm across his face, scratching over his scruff.

“Okay how about, I pick up a stack of pictures, show you each and then you say yes or no without a second thought.” The idea sparks inside you and you think it can work.

“We can try that yeah,” Bucky straightens up, ready to do this, he watches you pick up the stack of local events he covered.

You hold up one where the marathon winner crosses the finish line, half leapt up in the air, they just realise and have tears in their eyes mid air.

Bucky nods, “Yes.” He grins at you this would work.

And it did, an hour later you had ten pictures each in various categories that gave a good sense of Bucky and his body of work.

As you zip up the file with a yawn, Bucky’s gaze softens you came in right after your exams without break for him.

“Hey sleepyhead, take the bed I’ll take the couch.” Bucky chuckles as your half asleep gaze meets him.

“What? No, you need sleep, I’ll take the couch.” You protest, Bucky places both his hands on his hips, looking too much like Winnie Barnes before she would scold their duo.

“Sparkle.” He warns, you quickly take a picture on your phone.

“Bucky, you look exactly like your mom before she would scold us.” You break out into giggles at his mortified expression.

“Sparkle.” He whines, trying to grab your phone away from you to delete it.

Currently you’re pinned under him arms extended up to stop him from getting your phone.

“Sparkle I just want to check the time.” He feigns innocence.

“Bucky you have a clock right there.” You point out, huffing.

“In London!” He defends.

“Use your own phone.”

“Yours is nicer.” Bucky huffs, he nods as he decides to tickle you.

You pale as you realise what is he planning.

“No.” You warn trying to scramble away before he begins.

“Oh no, no, no,” Bucky pins down your hands in one of his and his free hand begins tickling your sides as you squeal and try to break away.

Bucky has a million dollar smile as your phone drops out of your grip but he just enjoys having you laugh and squeal, your skin is so soft and warm and god he just wants to kiss you, he pauses the thought taking him by surprise.

Your face is inches away from his, you’re breathing hard but still laughing up at him, arching away from him and you are flush against his now shirt clad chest.

Bucky’s face moves closer, you look at him, then down to his lips, your mind flashes back to the grocery store aisle. His lips are so close his breath fans across your face, you close your eyes.

The doorbell rings and you open your eyes, Bucky looks into yours searching for something, he wonders if he should continue before answering the door. You bite your lip, wondering if he regrets it, the next ring of the doorbell has you both scramble up to grab the late night chinese take out.

<><><><><><><>

‘dear Bucky,

god i feel stupid writing this after six months of that moment in your room.

i can’t outright ask you, it just feels, it feels different between us? not in a bad way, fuck, did we fuck up? why didn’t we just kiss? it feels so right being in your arms and having you in mine. as though, as though we were made for each other?

why can’t i just tell you that i am in love with you, i am in love with my best friend, probably have been for the longest time and i wished we would have kissed in the grocery aisle.

you would think i would know what the right fucking words are? being a writer and all but i don’t have them. at all. i just know four that only make sense—

Bucky, I love you.

I’ve written countless letters to you and yet writing this one seems to be the biggest task even though what i want to say to you is so very simple.

I want to tell you in person, I want to say the words, to you in front of everyone.

I just I worry what if what if i lose you?

I’ve written countless lines about love and yet I don’t know if this is enough, if these scattered words, that i’m scrambling to put together to make some coherence out of are even making sense?

I wishfully think that maybe, maybe you love me too, in the same way, its so selfish of me, hoping praying that my best friend is in love with me as well.

If you do not feel the same wat then just forget about this, I, I don’t know just, don’t stop being my best friend please. it is selfish of me to put this on you and still want you in my life but, i lost you once i can’t i can’t lose you again.

-Sparkle.’

You groan, this letter sounds and looks so stupid. Zero readability. Zero continuity, clarity, ugh.

You turn the page over placing it on the papers in front of you as your room-mate Natasha walks in,

“Are you going to tell him you are in love with him or is that love letter not happening? Of all the important things to write in a letter neither of you do that.” She sits down on the table, shuffling the papers to make space.

“He doesn’t love me, love me.” You object and Nat smacks your arm.

“He took the midnight train to here because you were having an anxiety attack. He stayed on call while he took a two hour train ride and then held you till you finally slept after a four day non sleep fest. He stayed till he knew you were absolutely fine and only then did he leave. I don’t know any best friend that would do that.” She lists the points on her fingers.

“Nat,” You start, she holds up a hand.

“Will you lose him if you tell him?” Her expression unreadable.

“I don’t know.” You answer honestly.

“Will telling him how you feel make you feel better?”

“Nat, I don’t know I want to yell that I love him but, I’m scared I’ll lose him as my best friend, that can’t happen again.”

Natasha pulls you close, as you sniffle.

“You should tell him, I know from the way he looks at you.” She reassures you.

“If this backfires I will stop talking to you.” You warn her, as she smiles.

“Send the letter.” She prompts.

“No, I’m, I’m going to give it to him the next day of his graduation.” You decide, the entire family would be there so if anything went sideways you would not be missed.

Graduation.

Bucky spots you sitting on the bleachers between your mom and his, they made a whole trip out of it deciding to stay for a few days, he waves at you all before settling into his designated chair, his phone chimes.

Sam: man you have to tell her.

Bucky: Sam will you just drop it.

Sam: no i will not, if you don’t tell her i will ask her out.

Bucky glares at the phone turning to locate Sam’s smug grin.

Sam looks down typing as Bucky’s phone chimes again.

Sam: she will still be your best friend, even if she doesn’t love you the same way, which is impossible because that entire weekend she wouldn’t take her eyes off of you.

Sam attaches a picture he sneaked of Bucky being on the phone in the kitchen and you looking fondly at Bucky, he could clearly see the red tinge on your cheeks.

Bucky: fine i’ll tell her today, but if this backfires…

Sam: I will be on the receiving end of James Barnes’ Trademark Glare for eternity.

Bucky: Worse.

Sam: just tell her you love her then you will hug me because she loves you too

Bucky turns his phone silent as the Dean begins the opening statements, the entire event is a blur and Bucky finds your smiling gaze when he takes his degree in his hands. All of you are cheering so hard for him he feels elated and accomplished.

As Sam and he wait for the crowd to disperse so they can introduce each other’s families, you run upto Bucky and hug him.

“Congratulations.” You kiss his cheek, Bucky feels his skin warm at the gesture.

“Thank you, Sparkle.” He keeps his arm around you as the Barnes and Wilson’s approach the cleared area as well.

Winnie Barnes instantly pulls Sam into a warm hug and pinches his cheek, where as Sam’s nephews AJ and Cass run up to Bucky, he bends down to pull them into a hug.

They ring choruses of congratulations all around and Sam and Bucky both can’t let go of their elated mood. During dinner you notice Sam gesturing with his head to Bucky, and Bucky shaking his head and narrowing his eyes. When you catch Sam’s eye he quickly looks away.

“Is everything okay?” You whisper to Bucky.

“Ye-yeah, Sparkle.” Bucky is caught off guard and he wishes Sam would be discreet.

You nod, not really satisfied and worrying if something is amiss.

Bucky takes note of your worried expression and leans in,

“Sparkle, I promise its nothing to worry about, Sam’s just stressing over his internship.” He assures, taking your hand in his and rubbing soothing circles.

“You sure you aren’t covering up something thats bothering you?” You raise an eyebrow at him, he shakes his head.

“No, I would tell you if it was, promise.” He smiles.

“Oh um I have my next letter with me I’ll give it to you tomorrow.” You say no idea why are you putting yourself in this position.

“Why not today?” Bucky furrows his eyebrows.

“Well because if I sent it by post it would reach tomorrow.” You shrug hoping your voice does not waiver.

“Well I want to read it today.” He presses on,

“Bucky, no today is about you.” You defend.

“Yes and that letter is addressed to me. Come on it’ll be my graduation gift.” He juts out his bottom lip making a puppy eyed face.

You sigh, handing it to him, his smile looking at the envelope is worth bringing forth your humiliation a day ahead.

Bucky opens the envelope, eager to know your thoughts, when his smile falters you feel your heart sink down into the pits of the marina trench.

There is a silence that slowly takes over the table, as they notice you looking at Bucky with tears in your eyes and Bucky reading the letter.

Bucky can’t say anything emotions caught in his throat, he really wished he would have kissed you in the grocery store too.

He can’t believe it you love him too.

Bucky, I love you.

The words burn into his memory, etched upon his heart and he looks up at you tears in his eyes as well.

“I’m sorry, I should not have—,” You begin your apology,

“Sparkle, Sparkle, I love you too.” He cuts you off, watching as you take his words in and your sadden expression turns into elation.

“About damn time.” Sam mutters.

As Bucky grins cupping your cheek and finally having your lips on his own.

There is a chorus of awes around the dinner table that just makes both of you grin in the kiss, both of you blushing as you pull away.

Bucky wraps his arm around you as your head rests on his shoulder, he kisses your forehead, with an unspoken promise of forever.

Bucky, age sixteen.

‘Dear Sparkle,

I got the letter where you said you won’t write anymore, it broke me, i cannot get through a day without my mind making me search for you in the crowd.

i know i’ve been an idiot, dickhead if you will. I cannot lose you. I cannot lose my best friend, do you know why i call you sparkle? it is not because of those sparkle pens you had, its because, when you looked at me when i was seven there was this sparkle in your eye and I just had to know you.

Because someone with that much radiance around her had to be the biggest source of happiness right? and you were and still are.

i won’t mind if you throw this letter without reading.actually i will feel horrible, that

i was so stupid to get into what the people at school said that friendships fade so there is no point in trying to keep them.

i hope you can forgive me, should i send the other unsent letters too? maybe i should, but if you want to then only i will, i, i’m so sorry for what is going on at home, mom won’t tell me, do you want me to call? I’ll ask mom to let me talk to you next time she speaks to your mom.

sparkle please forgive me, i know this is my own doing, i’m an idiot but i’m your idiot best friend.

nine months of no responses and i’m asking for you to not be mad at me, i’m asking for a miracle, but that won’t happen will it? hope it does.

i love you

i miss you so much it hurts, i know it hurts you too.

-bucky.’

----x----

531 notes · View notes

mikkokomori · 1 year

Text

Memory Entry - 1/3

Aubrey's Mistake

=======================

How long has it been?

How long has she been mourning the death of Mari?

She didn't know.

It felt like years, yet barely any time has passed since her funeral. The lone piece of paper hanging there read DECEMBER– only two and a half months.

Aubrey lamented.

Two and a half months.

Two and a half months had passed, and no one had come to comfort her. Her mother mourned– though not on the death of Aubrey's older sister figure.

Aubrey would watch as her mother sat alone at the dinner table, the beer bottles beginning to accumulate on the side. Only a mop of hair lay on the table, the probability of her passed out from drinking too much was very likely.

Aubrey looked at the plushie in her hands; its purple pigment seemed to have been sucked out as she sat in the dull living room. Mr. Plantegg brought her no comfort as it had before. No warmth came from it.

Lifeless.

Dull.

Aubrey stared at it for a very long time.

No one came to comfort her. Was she the one who had to seek it out then?

Her small hands gripped at the sides of Mr. Plantegg, trembling before setting it down on the couch.

No.

No, she can't hurt him. He's her favorite plushie.

Aubrey sighed.

She'll go see Basil. He's always been there, way before she met the others.

He'll understand, she thought.

He won't mind.

____

The walk to his house felt suffocating.

It'll be okay soon.

He'll make everything better.

He'll hold my hand through this, just like always.

Thoughts floated in her head as she finally walked down the path to his door. It stood lifeless, yet there was a warmth emanating from it, a warmth she yearned as the vibrancy of the house's colors glowed under the afternoon sun.

Basil has always been there for me.

Aubrey stood in front of the door for several minutes. She breathed in.

Basil always makes things better. He's kind. He's always cared about me. He's always comforted me.

The door creaked open. Aubrey took a step back.

It was Basil.

"Basil!" Aubrey immediately exclaimed in an awfully cheerful tone. "I was just coming to see you!"

Basil seemed to jump as he looked at her with surprise. A somber expression lay on his face once he realized it was Aubrey, a small smile on his face.

"Oh… Hi Aubrey! Did you need something?"

Need something… is he busy?

"Well, I was wondering if maybe we could hang out today?" A hint of hopefulness in her voice. "U-unless… if you're busy right now..?"

Basil blinked for a few seconds before hesitantly nodding.

"N-no no, it's fine. I was…" going to go over to Sunny's house. "...going to go out…for a walk…"

Aubrey nodded solemnly.

She knew already. Ever since Mari's death, Basil has been going to Sunny's place every day. She always saw him leaving the boys house– it wasn't a secret to her.

"Is it okay if I come in?"

"....sure."

He opened the door wider for her, taking a few steps back to allow for some space between them as she entered.

Aubrey's eyes looked around his house, the familiar comfort of it all relaxing her tense shoulders. Despite having been here countless times, she couldn't help but feel the burst of pleasantness everytime she entered. A home away from home.

"What…do you want to do?"

Aubrey turned to look at her friend who had spoken, watching as he slipped off the shoes he had just put on and setting them back on its rack.

"Hmm, well, is it ok if we could just talk? Y'know, like we do all the time!" Aubrey clumsily slid off her own shoes, handing them to the ever polite blond as he set them on the rack as well. "...maybe we could also look at your photo album in the meantime?"

Basil paused for a moment.

"Ah… um… I don't– I don't have the photo album with me right now. I left it…somewhere else…"

She raised an eyebrow. Why didn't he want to bring up that he visits Sunny's house?

"Oh… ok! That's- that's fine!"

"Mhm…" Basil turned to head to the kitchen. "Do you want something to drink? A glass of lemonade? Or just some water?"

Aubrey hummed. "Some lemonade would be nice. Can I have it with those cute straws you always get? Hehe…"

Basil fondly chuckled before nodding, opening a cupboard where the colorful straws sat there in a pretty flower cup. He observed through them for a second before taking out a nice pastel pink one.

"You can take a seat wherever, unless you want to go to my room?"

"Hmhmm… let's go to your room!"

"Ok then, I'll be with you in a second!"

With a nod and a bounce to her step, Aubrey headed down the small corridor to where his room was at. The green door stood there along with another, only a hanging plant separating the two.

Aubrey ripped her eyes away from looking at it.

Touching the cool doorknob, she twisted the handle and opened the door, revealing her friend's bedroom; neat and tidy, with some plants here and there and a bookshelf near his bed. A room that Aubrey couldn't help but envy a little, seeing as it was much cuter than hers.

Feeling bad about sitting on the nicely made bed, she decided to seat herself on the carpet. It wasn't dirty. It was clean, as if it had been washed recently.

She patiently waited for Basil.

He came in a minute later with a platter of sandwiches.

"I thought you'd like something to snack on while we talked… i-if that's okay with you…"

The boy's shy attempt at making her comfortable made Aubrey jump.

"O-oh! Yes, it's okay!"

They both quietly talked to each other, Aubrey drinking out of her glass of lemonade happily as Basil nibbled off a bit of the sandwich slice he had been eating.

A question gnawed at Aubrey's mind.

"Hey… um–" Aubrey began. "So… lately I've been seeing you at Sunny's house…"

Basil visibly tensed at that.

"A-and it's not like– like it's a bad thing! Really!" She said in a panic, a poor attempt at calming him. "Well– I just– I wanted to know why, exactly, you visit him so often now…"

Basil stared at her, his soft blue eyes seeming to dull at the question.

"... No reason…"

Aubrey's hand twitched.

Basil continued to awkwardly nibble at the sandwich's edge.

"Basil…"

"It's nothing, Aubrey."

"..........."

She huffed.

"I just– I don't understand why–"

"Aubrey, please don't-"

"Don't what? Basil, you never talk to me anymore!"

Basil looked at her, his eyes widened in shock at her sudden yelling.

"Sorry, it's just–" Aubrey set down the now empty glass cup harshly on the carpet. "I– it's just– listen! Ever since Mari's funeral, you never talk to anyone!"

A growing frustration ignited in her.

"Every time I see you, you– you're always at Sunny's place! And when you're not, you just– magically become too busy to talk to me! What is so important that you won't spend time with me anymore?"

Basil remained quiet.

Aubrey continued.

"It's Sunny, isn't it? It's always been Sunny for you– ever since you met him, it's always him..! Basil, I've always been there for you way before you even met him– so what is it about him that you would rather comfort him instead of me?! Why do you always visit him instead of me? Why do you–"

"AUBREY!"

The mentioned girl gasped as she saw Basil's unrestrained anger burst through his usual kind demeanor.

The phone on his nightstand began to ring. The boy took in a deep breath as he stood up, walking over to answer it.

"Hello? Ms. Kaneko?"

Aubrey quietly waited.

"Yes? Oh! Oh… y-yes of course… I'll head over… huh?"

She looked up, staring at Basil's turned back.

"...no– no, I…I'm not busy right now."

Shock.

He wasn't busy right now?

But then what of her?

Despite everything, he'd still choose the other boy over her?

"... Y-yes ma'am– I mean-! Ahaha… sorry… I'll… be there in a few minutes. B-bye..!"

Click.

He stood still for what seemed several seconds.

And then he turned his head.

"Do you want to know why I visit him so much?"

Aubrey tensed as the once gentle and caring eyes suddenly turned icy and cold, a hidden anger behind them.

"Everytime I leave, his mother has been calling me to ask when I'll be back– because Sunny is always having panic attacks and vomiting his food out when I'm not there! You may not understand, but I do! Sunny can't handle everything going on, can't handle being alone– you of all people should know that!"

She meekly lowered her head.

"Aubrey, you realize that Mari was Sunny's sister, right? If– if anything, you should know that the one who's suffering the most is him! Of course, you don't seem to understand that! You only care about your own comfort, all while ignoring that everyone else, that we, are also mourning over her! You're not the only one who misses her, Aubrey!"

The boy walked past her, opening the door to his bedroom.

"If you're going to attack Sunny over the fact that I'm trying my best to look after him, then I'm sorry, but you can leave now. I'm not going to let you hurt someone I care about when you won't even acknowledge that he's hurting too."

"B-Basil–" Aubrey called out in panic. "I-I just– I didn't– I–!!"

"....Please leave. Ms. Kaneko just called me to tell me Sunny woke up, and I can't keep both of them waiting."

Aubrey's mouth moved, trying to form a sentence–

And yet nothing came out.

She left Basil's house in defeat, with their relationship barely held by a thin string.

#ANXIETY AU - Memory Entries #ANXIETY AU #omori aubrey #omori basil #omori spoilers #omori #mikos art #mikkos writing #miko panta

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xxblackballoonxx · 2 years

Text

Electric: Chapter 9

Modern John Shelby AU

This fic is being posted simultaneously on FanFiction.net and Ao3. Classy smut warning beginning with Chapter 5.

J&Gem Chats 8 Chapter 8 J&Gem Chats 9 Chapter 10

Electric

Chapter 9: Smitten

A few weeks later on a Monday morning, Gemma sat on her couch listening to a new record she was reviewing. John was heading down to London for a few days with Finn for their monthly trip and Gemma had spent the previous night at the Shelby house. John had walked her home, buying her breakfast on the way, and walking her up to her flat door.

“I don’t want to go.” John said as he held her waist, distracting her from unlocking the door.

Gemma dropped her bag just inside the door and set her takeaway and a large iced tea on a small entry table. She turned back and John kissed her, backing her against the doorframe, she gave in to how much she wanted it. He held her face with both hands, and she hooked her fingers in his belt loops, needing to be as close as possible.

John finally pulled back, smiling with satisfaction at the look on her face.

“I know you don’t want to go, but it’s just a few days, then you’ll be back home, with Charlie to visit.” Gemma said as she felt her legs steady underneath her.

“Call me if you need anything?” John replied, suddenly feeling unsure.

“How about we just call each other every night?” Gemma responded, touching his face.

John nodded and took her hand in his, putting her fingers to his lips, and then hugged her tightly. She held the back of his neck and closed her eyes. His cologne was already burned into her memory.

“Let me know when you get in, ok? And I’ll see you when you get back, J.” Gemma said as she looked up at John.

“I will. Talk to you soon, love.” John replied.

He touched her face once more and smiled at her before heading back down the stairs. Gemma felt light headed for a few minutes. Every moment with John seemed to deepen what was between them, and it felt like there was no limit to what could be.

Gemma came back to the present and was making a few notes about the record when her phone rang.

“In London already?” Gemma joked as she answered the call.

“Finn’s running behind. Come say goodbye again?” John asked.

Gemma had felt his anxiety come on a few days before, he was nervous about leaving her behind. Not because he was attached (which, he was, and she was), but because of the accident and all the anxiety that came with it. He worried that something would happen to Gemma, that something would become between them, that he would lose her. She understood why he was nervous, and she had tried to subtly address his fears.

“I can do that, babe. Be there soon.” Gemma said gently and hung up.

15 minutes later she entered the back door of The Garrison with the key John had given her over the weekend, along with a key to the Shelby house. An “in case” moment in which the gravity of their relationship started to become really real. They had been spending every night together, alternating between his house and her flat.

She always knew that when the truly right guy came along, she’d know it and go with it. This was that situation, John was that guy. And she felt like she understood him more than any other person she’d ever met. She could read every look, every thought, every mood.

Gemma found John stacking together printed pages on his desk, sliding them into a folder and then into his backpack. He looked up and smiled. He knew his request had been ridiculous, he’d just seen her a few hours before, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t anxious about leaving her behind. And it meant everything to him that she knew that, and was there to take some of that anxiety away.

“Come here.” John said quietly, sitting back in his chair and turning towards her.

Gemma walked over and he ran his hands up her legs, settling at her waist. She held his gaze as she reached out to run a hand through his hair and then trailed her fingers down his neck.

“It’s going to be ok, John.” She stated, her voice calm and gentle.

He nodded and leaned his head into her chest, closing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths. It had been so long since he’d cared this much for someone, outside his family. It was scary to him.

“We’ll talk tonight, and every day while you’re there. Think of what it will be like when you’re back, all that foreplay.” Gemma joked and she felt him laugh against her.

They stayed that way for a few minutes, John wrapping his arms around her waist, Gemma rubbing the back of his head, whispering to him.

Neither of them noticed Finn pause at the office door. He knew John had been nervous this morning, pacing as he packed his bag. He realized now that Gemma knew exactly why his brother was feeling that way, and the way she addressed it was kind of beautiful to see. Finn snuck his phone out of his pocket and took a photo of the two of them, lost in their own world.

He quietly walked back to the back door, opening it and then closing it loudly.

“That must be Finn.” John mumbled, his head still against Gemma’s chest.

“Drive safe, ok? I’ll talk to you later, J.” Gemma said upbeat as he lifted his head and stood up.

“Miss you already, love.” John replied and kissed her quickly.

“Gemma! Came to say goodbye to me? Missed ya this morning.” Finn joked.

“I was hoping you’d stay behind and cook for me, Finny. I guess I’ll just have to do takeaways till you come back.” Gemma said dramatically as she hugged Finn.

She watched both brothers smile back at her and knew her life was in exactly the right place and the right time.

************************************************************************

The Eden club was getting closer to opening day, and John was, quite frankly, looking forward to the project being done. It had dragged on for a year longer than anyone expected, and he could only listen to Tommy drone on about the endless details for so long. John preferred action, which is why owning The Garrison suited him. It was established, he ran it well, and it was a known local spot. Opening a new club in London, and one with longevity, was not easy under any circumstances. But as their first major venue in the city, it would be even harder.

By Tuesday afternoon, John was bored out of his mind. Finn had managed to escape somehow, probably using the youngest sibling charm he had, while the rest of them were stuck at Shelby Company Limited headquarters. After Ada insisted on a break, John found himself sitting outside on the terrace, trying to clear his mind. Which kept lingering back to Birmingham and Gemma.

John grinned at his phone screen and then groaned at the thought of how long it would be until they could actually do said things together. He’d have Charlie from Thursday to Sunday, and knowing how kids were, he didn’t want to mess around with having Charlie find them in a compromising position. Gemma had already mentioned it and how horrified she’d be, to which he laughed at the expression on her face and agreed. Any sleepovers with kids in the house meant literally sleeping. And maybe a few make out sessions.

“That Gemma?” Ada asked, noticing her brother’s smile.

“It is. She’s going to come by Friday night for dinner, meet Charlie, see how it goes.” John replied.

“Well, I’m sure they’ll get along. When are you going to bring her down here? I’m quite jealous that even Tommy’s met her.”

“That wasn’t planned and you know it. I was thinking the week the Eden opens, I’d like to invite her.”

“You sure you’re ok with the date of the launch and how it falls?” Ada asked in concern.

Tommy and Lizzie had set a soft launch date the Saturday before the official opening. Tommy had carefully pointed out that the soft launch date fell just two days after Will’s due date, which the entire family knew was not only a sacred and rough day for John, but a tough week altogether.

“I appreciate that Tommy thought about it and left it up to me. I’m hoping this year it’ll be different. Gemma offered to do whatever I want that day, and I’m thinking it would be nice to spend it quietly with her and then drive down Friday afternoon or something. I just can’t believe it’s been ten years already.” John replied, lost in his thoughts.

Ada reached out and took her brother’s hand, squeezing it gently. While Tommy, Arthur, and Freddie had seen the worst that John had gone through, they had been reeling with their own grief and guilt. Ada was the one who saw just how dark John had gone in the early days, and between taking care of Freddie, holding John together, and her university classes, she’d given less time to Arthur, but especially Tommy. She knew it wasn’t really her fault, but she had long felt partially responsible for how much Tommy had changed in the years since.

“I think that you should do whatever you want, John. And if that’s to come to the opening, great. If you don’t feel up to it, don’t do it. Either way, you and Gemma have a place in my home whenever you want to visit, whether that’s for work or not. Tommy will get over it.” Ada stated.

John nodded and squeezed her hand back. For all of their bickering, especially as kids, they’d always had each other’s backs.

************************************************************************

Later that night, John settled himself in bed and picked up his phone, calling Gemma.

“Hey, you.” Gemma greeted him.

“Hi, love. How was your day?”

“It was good. How about yours?”

“Some things to fill you in on when I’m back. Right now, I just want to listen to your voice. Are you in bed?”

“I am.” Gemma replied, grinning to herself.

“Tell me what you’re wearing.” John joked, but was also totally serious.

“Your shirt that you left here.”

“Just that?”

“Just your shirt. Absolutely nothing else.”

John closed his eyes at the thought, and imagined that he was next to her. He felt himself harden at the idea, his shirt covering her otherwise naked body.

“What are you thinking about, John?”

“About you, wearing my shirt, alone in bed. Touching your bare skin, sliding my hand up your hip. Kissing you.” John breathed out, eyes still closed.

“Touch yourself.” Gemma said quietly over the phone, her own hand moving down.

“Fuck, Gem.” John whispered back as he pushed his boxers down and wrapped his hand around his hard shaft.

“I thought about you all day, J. Especially that night in my living room chair, and how I want to do that again, soon.”

John moaned quietly and listened to Gemma, imagining she was touching him. He heard her breath speed up on the other side of the line and moved his hand faster, thinking about her doing the same. Wanting each other too much to wait.

Smitten.

************************************************************************

By the time Friday afternoon rolled around, John was beyond ready to see Gemma. Finn was at band practice and John had been playing with Charlie, waiting on Gemma’s arrival. The doorbell rang and John had stop himself from sprinting to the door.

Gemma grinned as John opened the door with a huge smile to match. Without speaking, she threw her arms around his neck as he picked her up and kissed her, laughing as she shrieked with surprise.

“I missed you, darlin’.” John whispered into her hair as he hugged her again.

“I missed you, too. I missed your hugs the most.” Gemma replied, and John hugged her tighter.

“Just my hugs? Nothing else?” John said back, smirking.

“Please. You know I missed all of you.” Gemma replied, glancing down and looking back up into his shocked face.

Gemma laughed and walked into the house, John closing the door behind her. He led her into the living room, where Charlie sat on the floor with an old train set.

“Charlie, this is my good friend, Gemma.” John said.

“Hi, Gemma. Uncle Johnny, is Gemma your girlfriend?” Charlie asked, in the honest way that only kids do.

“Yes, Charlie, Gemma is my girlfriend.” John replied, laughing.

“Hi, Charlie. I heard you like Legos. I brought you something.” Gemma replied.

She pulled out a Lego set and Charlie jumped with excitement.

“That’s a brand new one! Can we open it now?” He yelled.

John nodded and the three of them sat on the floor, Gemma and John watching as Charlie carefully opened the box and started pulling out the instructions and bagged pieces. John reached over and squeezed Gemma’s hand and smiled at her. Her gesture meant a lot to him.

The trio worked on the set for awhile and then John excused him to start dinner. He was making one of Charlie’s favorites when he visited, homemade mac and cheese and fish fingers. John could hear the conversation from the living room as he worked.

“How’s school going?” Gemma asked Charlie, helping him build a figure.

“It’s ok, I guess. I like my classes but I only have one friend, Sean.” Charlie replied, his voice a little sad.

“School can be tough sometimes, you’ll find your way though. I have an idea. You could have your mom or dad ask your teacher if you could set up a Lego club. Then you’ll meet a whole group of your classmates who like the same thing, you know? That would be fun, right?” Gemma suggested.

“That would be fun! Thanks, Gemma! Could we have a Lego club at home, too? Karl could join, and you and Uncle Johnny, and Uncle Finn, and maybe Uncle Freddie and Aunt Ada and Uncle Arthur. Maybe Daddy would join, too.” Charlie said, his voice trailing off as he mentioned his dad.

“I bet your dad would be the first to join, buddy. You should ask him tonight when you call home.” Gemma responded and Charlie smiled at her happily.

John had moved towards the living room to listen to the conversation and watched as Gemma guided Charlie through the next part of the instructions. John felt himself fall even harder for her in that moment.

************************************************************************

Later that night, after John had put Charlie to bed in the spare room next to Finn’s, he locked up the house and went up to find Gemma. She was sitting in his bed, reading, with the TV on. He kissed the top of her head and changed into pajamas, knowing she was watching him and not reading anymore at all. He laid down sideways on his bed and put his head in her lap.

“He finally fell asleep?” Gemma asked, as she ran her hand through his hair.

“Finally. I haven’t see him hyped up that much since he ate an entire carton of ice cream last year. You really got him going with the Legos.” John replied, laughing.

“He’s a sweet kid, I really like him. And he loves you so much. You and Finn.” Gemma commented, she had enjoyed watching both brothers dote on their nephew.

“He likes you, too. I guess you just have a hold over Shelby men.” John mused, pulling her other hand into his.

They sat in contented silence for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts.

“Do you want to watch a movie? Since this is a PG night and all?” John said, silently kicking himself for his own rule.

“Sure, though I’m hoping the movie doesn’t have to be PG.” Gemma responded and John laughed again.

“Nah, love. We can watch whatever you want. I just want to be here with you.”

John turned his head to look up at Gemma and she traced her finger down his cheek and across his lips. Her eyes locked with his, and he felt a flash of something, like this could be the rest of his life. In this room, in this house, with his girl, forever. Gemma picked up on the same feeling in his gaze, smiled softly, and then reached for the remote.

Forever.

************************************************************************

By Sunday, Gemma and Charlie were the best of friends. They held hands on the way to The Yard, where they were meeting Arthur and Uncle Charlie for lunch before John drove Charlie back home. Finn and John walked behind, listening to the two in front chatter about the animated movie they’d watched the night before.

“I’m glad Gemma’s sharing some of the chatter box burden.” Finn commented quietly as John snorted trying to hold in laughter.

There was no doubt that when Charlie was around close family, he opened up. Which is why they all worried about him a bit in the school he attended, he didn’t seem to be making many friends or really enjoying it. But, then, not all kids did enjoy school, though John knew Charlie was incredibly smart and did like his classes.

All during lunch, Charlie begged Gemma to drive back with them to London. She agreed, as long as his uncles thought it was ok. This would be stepping into Tommy Shelby’s territory, and she deferred to his brothers on that. They all looked at each other, contemplating.

“Clearly, with Gemma being vice president of the Lego club, she should be going on this trip to meet their first member, Tommy Shelby.” Arthur finally proclaimed, which made them all laugh.

A few hours later, John strapped Charlie into his seat in the back, with Gemma next to him. Finn had privately begged Gemma to take the backseat role on the way down, needing a break from the non-stop chatter he’d gotten on the way up.

Halfway through the drive, Charlie fell asleep, Gemma carefully wrapping her arm around his shoulder so he could lean his head against her. John caught her eye in the rearview mirror, smiling at her. She could feel something shift, like a piece of her settled into place, as he watched her a moment more.

John carried a still sleeping Charlie into the apartment building, Finn and Gemma close behind with Charlie’s belongings. Finn was reminded of himself as a young boy, with John taking care of him every day, his own son lost forever. Sometimes that realization would hit Finn so hard it would make his breath catch.

Charlie woke up in the elevator but clung to John, who held him tightly and rubbed his back. Every moment Gemma had spent with the two of them only reminded her of how John would be an amazing father, he practically already had been to Finn. He was kind and caring, affectionate and observant. He seemed to genuinely understand children, and Gemma had caught herself daydreaming more than once about what it would be like, to have kids with John. And that wasn’t even something she had thought she wanted. Until now.

“Charlie, my darling! You’re home!” Grace said happily as she opened the penthouse door.

Charlie smiled at her as John transferred him to her arms and the two hugged. John, Finn, and Gemma followed them into the living room, where Tommy stood near a large corner sofa.

“Hi, son.” Tommy greeted Charlie, rubbing his head.

“Hi, Daddy. I had the best time, can I go back soon?” Charlie replied, his energy picking up again.

“You can go back whenever your uncles say you can, maybe next month, yeah?” Tommy replied, taking Charlie from Grace and hugging him.

It was the first sign of gentleness in Tommy that Gemma had seen, and she could see why Charlie both loved and revered his father. He knew that he held a special place in Tommy’s heart.

“We haven’t officially met yet, Gemma. I’m obviously Grace, Charlie’s mum and Tommy’s wife.” Grace said, holding out her hand to Gemma.

“It’s nice to meet you, Grace. We had a great time with Charlie. You have a beautiful home.” Gemma replied, taking in the floor to ceiling view of London on two sides of the living room.

“Will you stay for dinner?” Grace asked.

“Frances always makes enough for an army.” Tommy chimed in, referring to their longtime housekeeper.

John looked at Gemma who shrugged slightly and took his hand. She was in if he was in.

“Sure, that’d be great.” John replied and Charlie beamed with happiness.

Charlie dragged Finn off to his room and Tommy pulled out some papers that he needed John to sign. Grace watched curiously as John sat down, but held Gemma’s hand over his shoulder. They seemed so in sync already.

“Gemma, why don’t I give you a tour while these two talk business? Make it quick, please, Tommy? It is Sunday after all.” Grace said airily, and Tommy smiled at her.

Gemma rubbed John’s shoulder and he squeezed her hand before she walked towards Grace, letting her hand linger on John’s back for a moment. Grace showed her the full penthouse, talking design decisions and future plans, before they settled in the kitchen.

“John seems quite smitten with you.” Grace commented with a smile as she poured Gemma a glass of champagne.

“Well, the feeling is mutual.” Gemma replied, smiling back shyly.

She understood John’s wariness around Grace. She seemed trustworthy and honest, but there was something about her that wasn’t quite right. Something that seemed slightly off. But, she was Charlie’s mother, and Gemma had to respect the way she had raised her son to be such a lovely little boy.

Both Grace and Tommy noticed throughout dinner how close John and Gemma had become, they had their own language. John watched Gemma speak with every part of his body turned towards her, and Gemma would gently touch his hand or arm whenever she said his name.

Finn noticed Grace and Tommy watching John and Gemma, and tried to clock whatever was being passed between his second oldest brother and his wife. When it came down to it, he had never totally trusted Grace either.

Later, as they drove home through the setting sun, John reached over to take Gemma’s hand, almost as a reflex. Finn sat in the back, watching as the two of them smiled at each other before John turned his focus once again to the road. Finn casually took out his phone and snapped a photo of their hands linked, resting against the middle console of John’s Audi. He knew he was witnessing the beginning of something epic.

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ohbuckie · 3 years

Text

from the mind of bucky barnes;

diary entries & blog posts (bassist!bucky au)

series

TW: abuse

❝ I see my dad everywhere I go. ❞

❝ I catch him in my reflection when I pass by shop windows. He appears in my bedroom mirror before I’ve styled my hair, and at the dive bar down the street when I’m drunkenly fixing my collar or wiping lipstick off of my neck. He’s been dead for three years and he still follows me around. Still criticizes me for things he’s always done. I drink too much, I smoke too much, I get high too much. I look too much like him.

I got my first tattoo on my seventeenth birthday. I pierced my nose and bleached my hair and became addicted to looking like myself. I put chains in my belt loops and bought clunky boots at Goodwill, and I stopped being compared to him completely.

I was only George’s son when I fought other guys in the locker room, or when the cops called my parents after tapping on my foggy car window with a flashlight while I was on a “study date,” or when I disobeyed my mother after she told me to clean my bedroom.

I did not cry for him when he died. Not a single tear stained my brand new tie, even when the casket was open and he was unrecognizable because his face was clean-shaven and his hair was styled. I could only think about how I wanted to spit on him. I wanted to laugh at him. I wanted to rub it in his face that I was alive and he wasn’t. It was all I had on him, really.

I am still not a better man than he.

My sister was crying into my shoulder the entire time. I was upset at her then, but I’m not now. I would have liked a dad, too. I should have held her tighter. She was just a kid.

I hadn’t met my now-girlfriend at that point, but now that I have, she is angry for me. She drives me to the cemetery after I get drunk on the back porch of my mother’s house so that I can kick dirt onto the stone that he’s buried underneath. She sits beside me and rubs my back while I break down and collapse beneath the weight of my own shoulders because none of this can be reversed.

I will drag it behind me for the rest of my life, and the trail that it leaves in the dirt will wipe away my footprints and I will be memorialized not for what I’ve done but for what he did to me. I fear that I’m drowning in this disgusting legacy, whether I want to or not. This is not a part of my story, it’s a part of his. He is the subject. I refuse to be.

I don’t care that it made me stronger, like my mother once told me over a cup of tea after one of my countless, brutal anxiety attacks. I don’t think it’s true—I don’t believe that I’m stronger in any capacity—but even if I am, I didn’t want to be. I shouldn’t have needed to be. ❞

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan smut #bucky barnes fluff #sebastian stan fluff #blogposts #bassist bucky

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wangxianficrecs · 3 years

Text

Follower Recs

~*~

Hello Mojo, hope you're doing well and that you had a good break! I wanted to signal boost the MDZS May Diaspora event collection on AO3, and point out my favorite fic from there: 归心似箭 | Longing to Go Home by dragongirlG! It's both tender and bittersweet and it features such mature writing. The author got some hate for it when it initially got posted so I wanted to counter that and give it some love instead! [Who would do such a thing?! @dragongirlg-fics I’m sorry that happened to you, and here, have *so many hugs!* I’ll try to do a thing just for the diaspora event, but meanwhile, I’ll just treat this as a follower rec.]

归心似箭 | Longing to Go Home

by dragongirlG (M, 8k, wangxian)

Summary: The destruction of the Yin Tiger Seal does not kill Wei Wuxian; it ages him instead. He takes shelter in a cave expecting to die, but instead he lives, slowly learning to embrace life with each new day.

Thirteen years later, a young man with a Lan forehead ribbon stumbles into the cave. His name is Lan Sizhui.

~*~

Hi Momjo!!! I recently read the most *adorable* fic, and I loved it so much that it dragged me out of seclusion (read: social anxiety cave) to rec it. It's called 'Covered in Bees' by ScarlettStorm in which the Cloud Recesses is an apiary, and Wei Wuxian has suddenly found himself host to a swarm of bees. ~ @akyra-talanoa

Covered in Bees

by ScarlettStorm (T, 8k, wangxian)

Summary: “Cloud Reccesses Apiary,” says a toneless, deep masculine voice, with zero question in it. Wei Ying doesn’t care, because whoever possesses that voice is probably going to come save him from bees like a fucking hero while wearing like, a suit of armor. That’s what you wear to catch bees, right?

“I have like, so many bees outside my front door right now,” he says, mouth running out ahead of him before he can even begin to think about reining it in. “It’s like a sandstorm of bees out there. There are so many bees. I got out of my car and there were just bees and I don’t want these bees. Do you want these bees? Please tell me you will come get these bees. I can’t leave my house and I have enough food for maybe a week but then I’m gonna have to learn how to cook dry beans and no one wants that, especially not me.” Wei Ying runs out of air, takes a breath, and belatedly adds, “My name is Wei Ying. Hi.”

Or: The beekeeping AU that no one asked for.

~*~

Hi, you are a bless to this fandom. Your blog feels like a library, so thoroughly arranged and always within hand reach. [Thank you, wow!] Recently, I was going through Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn is a Wēn tag and came across a fanfic, it has 3 chapters till now and is so intriguing that i thought to recommend it to you. I don't know if I can recommend or if you have already checked the story, The legendary Phoenix and his Dragon by Devipriya. I am in love with this story. I hope you will enjoy it too, do check it out

The legendary Phoenix and his Dragon

by Devipriya (T, 7k, wangxian)

Summary: Wen Wuxian, the essence of who he is, he is a naughty child, a prankster, an enchanting dizi player, a graceful dancer, an irresistible lover, a truly valiant warrior, a ruthless vanquisher of his foes, a man who left a broken heart in every home, an astute statesman and kingmaker, a thorough gentleman, a righteous individual of the highest order, and the most colorful incarnation.

He has been seen, perceived, understood and experienced in many different ways by different people. Different people saw different facets of who he is. For some, he is God. For some, he is a crook. For some, he is a lover. For some, he is a fighter. He is so many things.

But the phoenix, seen from the eyes of time was just a playful man. A man who plays with his awareness, with his imagination, with his memory, with his life, with his death. An individual who does not just dance with somebody. He dances with life. He dances with his enemy, He dances with the one he loves, He dances even at the moment of his death.

To taste an essence of who is Wen Wuxian, be with me in the journey of exploration, NO! playful exploration of life of a playful man.

~*~

Hi! Thanks for running this blog, it's helped me find so many fics. For your next follower recs post, I wanted to rec "This love like a flood, a fire, a fear" by natcat5. Its summary is vague (which I suspect is why it isn't better known) but it is a beautiful retelling of canon from LWJ's POV with slight canon divergence. I love the author's characterization of him and the prose is gorgeous. It is easily my favorite fic in the entire fandom, and I don't say that lightly. ~ @nyanja14

This love like a flood, a fire, a fear

by natcat5 (M, 57k, wangxian, lan wangji & lan xichen)

Summary: “I will love you as misfortune loves orphans, as fire loves innocence, and as justice loves to sit and watch everything go wrong.” - Lemony Snicket

~*~

i came to this ask to rec this baseball one called "Waiting for Spring" by thievinghippo on ao3. It somehow made me care about baseball soooo 'nough said ~ @scifikimmi

Waiting for Spring

by thievinghippo (E, 131, wangxian)

Summary: “It is a well-known fact across the major leagues that one does not smack Lan Wangji’s ass.”

Wei Wuxian rolls his eyes. Everyone smacks everyone’s ass in baseball. It’s how the game is played. Lan Wangji does not get to be exempt from this most sacred of baseball traditions.

Wei Wuxian will make sure of that.

Or, a Major League Baseball AU

~*~

hi mojo! i wanted to rec Something Good by boxoftheskyking (a loose sound of music/canon divergence au) and also MDZS: The Golden Engine by iffervescent (immortal wangxian modern au where they gotta solve a mystery and save china, featuring jiang cheng/lan xichen)

Something Good

by boxoftheskyking (T, 43k, wangxian)

Summary: "That Wei Wuxian, you know he used to be such a promising cultivator. Head Disciple of the Jiang Clan, can you believe it? You see, juniors, the punishment for traveling the path of demonic cultivation. No golden core, not so much as a whisper of spiritual power."

As a punishment for real and imagined crimes, Wei Wuxian is sentenced to work at Cloud Recesses as the lowest of servants. When a surprising reassignment lands him with eleven children to care for, everything changes again.

A Sound of Music AU

MDZS: The Golden Engine

by iffervescent (E, 82k, wangxian, xicheng)

Summary: In the modern era, immortals Lan Zhan and Wei Wuxian return to Gusu. New evil and old friends + new friends and old evils.

~*~

Hi Mojo! First of all let me just tell you that you are amazing and this blog is like a gift from the gods! Bless you and your endless patience and hard work. [Oh, thank you so much!] I know that you have just accepted follower recs and I have missed miserably but I still wanted to write and bring attention to a writer by the pseudo Xiao_Hua on ao3, I think they are quite good and I just recently found the account with so much content. If you do have the time to check them out, I'd rec catfish, my fox or the red ribbon.

The Red Ribbon

by Xiao_Hua (M, 21k, wangxian, TGCF crossover)

Summary: Wei WuXian died but not before saving HanGuang-Jun and A-Yuan, leaving so much more behind than just his ribbon.

My Fox

by Xiao_Hua (E, 13k, wangxian)

Summary: Once he headed to YiLing that all changed for him. His priorities have been mingled with and ordered in complete disarray even without him noticing as he was left heavily influenced by a creature.

Or one where Lan WangJi is a dragon-spirit and he finds his mate in the form of a fox.

Catfish

by Xiao_Hua (E, 15k, wangxian)

Summary: Wei WuXian has a common sense that believes it has a nine-to-five job while Lan WangJi finds that incredibly hot.

Or one where two catfish realise that neither of them truly catfished.

~*~

Hi Mojo i'm recommending this amazing fic it is called song of joys and regrets. it's a time travel AU it's amazing. And your Blog is a Godsend Thank you! [Aw, you’re so sweet!] ~ @highgoddess

Song of Joy and Regrets

by HelloKitten (not rated, 59k, wangxian, WIP)

Summary: The Archery competition at Qishan this year has hit a snag. As the Sects face the wrongs perpetrated by their future selves, Wei Wuxian finds himself adopted by half of the cultivation world who are determined to save him from himself.

Baby Wangxian suffers. Adult Wangxian's job here is done.

"I'm starting to see a pattern to all his plans..." "Do they all involve him being bait?" "Yes" came deadpanned responses.

~*~

Here’s a 2021 Reverse Big Bang entry, in time for Father’s Day; [Oops, my bad, sorry!] Under a Blanket of Black Wings, by ChaoticAndrogynous (#31398395); LWJ, recuperating from the 33 lashes, tells A-Yuan a series of fairytales about a heroic monster and the brave little boy he befriended. Vampire! WWX (in the framing story as well as the story-within-the-story); happy ending.

Under a Blanket of Black Wings

by ChaoticAndrogynous (T, 19k, wangxian)

Summary: Lan Wangji tells A-Yuan a bedtime story about a beautiful monster and the brave little boy who was his friend. Thirteen years later, the monster returns.

~*~

Hello Mojo! Have you read ‘Key Differences’ by Pupeez4eva? Its a MDZS!WWX meets CQL!WWX and its really good! [It’s on my list!]

Key Differences

by pupeez4eva (T, 6k, wangxian)

Summary: “I don’t understand,” Wei Wuxian said, while his alternate self continued to stare at him with almost a look of hurt in his eyes. There was longing in there too, which Wei Wuxian would have easily recognised if he paid enough attention. “How could you not get together, after everything. What even went on in the Guanyin Temple if you didn’t confess?”

“The Guanyin Temple,” Wei Ying repeated incredulously. “You’re asking me if I confessed at — honestly, a lot went on that day. It was a life and death situation. There was no confessing.”

Wei Wuxian stared at him, appalled.

(Wherein Wei Wuxian ends up meeting an alternate version of himself who, much to his horror, never married Lan Wangji. Obviously he has to do something to fix this).

~*~

Hey Mojo i would recommend this fanfic if you already haven’t, it’s called “ take me back to a time “ by DizziDreams. It’s sooooo good

take me back to a time

by DizziDreams (T, 144k, wangxian, 3zun)

Summary: Wei Ying has a lot on his plate right now.

It’s finals week -- which isn’t so bad. He’s never had to study much to do well in classes. But that just means that things are that much more tense with Jiang Cheng, who, as far as Wei Ying can tell, only takes study breaks long enough to glare at Wei Ying where he sits on the couch playing video games.

It’s not studies that have Wei Ying stressed out. It’s everything else. It’s the recruitment for the research trial he’s coordinating. It’s jiejie and her impending marriage to His Royal Douchebag Jin Zixuan. It’s the volunteer work at the palliative care facility. It’s Wen Ning’s worsening condition. It’s Wen Qing working herself thin to care for her brother and Wen Yuan. It’s the way Wen Yuan never seems to have enough food.

So, yeah. There’s enough on Wei Ying’s plate already, meaning it’s not entirely welcome when he comes home and finds a man standing in his bedroom. A man in extravagant white robes, a ribbon tied around his forehead, long hair gathered into a topknot, fist clutching a sword at his side, who asks him, “Where am I?”

~*~

Idk if this has already been rec’d (I’ve been off the grid for a while now), but there’s this absolutely incredible fic called Restitution by an anon on ao3 people should definitely check out!

this one?

on restitution

by Anonymous (M, 78k, wangxian, jin ling & wei wuxian, lan sizhui & wei wuxian, WIP)

Summary: When Wei Wuxian regains consciousness, he is in a bed. A real, proper bed, not the slab he called a bed in his cave in the Burial Mounds.

Jiang Cheng is glowering above him.

Wei Wuxian doesn't die during the siege of the Burial Mounds. Rather, he is captured in secret and confined at Lotus Pier. Things change accordingly.

~*~

Hi momjo! I feel like every time I come to your blog there's twenty more new and amazing fics for me to read. Thank you for everything you do for this fandom! [Thank you, sweetie! And yes, I think there ARE 20 new fics every day out there in the fandom. It’s amazing!] Today I come bearing my own rec to you. I've recently read this and it's IMO one of the best fics out there. It's called Lapsteel by carriecmoney and it's a modern stormchaser AU featuring country songs and coming home. ~ @manaika-chan

Lapsteel

by carriecmoney (T, 42k, wangxian)

Summary: Now and then, I think about you now and then...

It's been thirteen years since Wei Ying ran for the prairies, leaving behind a family in shambles and a secret on the Pacific wind. What happens when the storm he swirled catches up to him?

Modern AU with country music star Lan Zhan, stormchaser Wei Ying, and shared crossroads.

~*~

#wangxian fic rec #follower recs #wangxian #mdzs #the untamed #follower rec #I HAVEN'T READ THESE YET

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taestefully-in-luv · 3 years

Text

The Island | KTH (Two)

Summary: You’re just two strangers waking up in a room on a lonely island where a company in the business of love has placed you. They believe that thanks to their in depth research you two are destined soulmates. What happens when your ‘soulmate’ and you want nothing to do with each other but falling in love is the only way to leave?

Pairing: Taehyung x Female reader

Genre: strangers to lovers, very slight enemies to lovers, soulmates au, roommate au, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, slight crack, and drama.

Word Count: 10.4k

Warnings: swearing

Notes: Hi everyone! Here’s ch2 of the new story, hope you guys like it. let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, or send an ask if just want to chat!:)

Taglist: @ggukkieland @monvieesdaebak @707sblog @peacedreamer14 @dopedreamfireparty @everythingnamjoon @taebae19 @typicalgenzworld @mooniyooni

Previous --- Next

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You don’t think you have ever been this bitter in your life—and you have a few things you can be bitter about. You could honestly make a list. But this? This is the ultimate bitterness and you hate it. It is driving you absolutely nuts! You’re alone with a man on an island…that’s lonely enough, right? Well, said man doesn’t even want to talk to you…that makes it ten—no, a million times more lonely. And you have every right to be bitter about that. So, yes maybe you are being a little petty when guys do interact.

It’s not like you are trying to purposely be petty, no, it’s not like that. You just can’t help your smart ass mouth or how childish you can become. Taehyung doesn’t seem to mind completely though, he just has his own smart ass comments or he becomes childish himself. It’s a horrible mix! Neither of you win! And you always want to have the last word but with Taehyung as your opponent it’s almost impossible.

“Maybe if you weren’t always following me, they would have sent us home by now.” Taehyung states bitterly as he puts his slice of bread on top of his now made sandwich.

“I’m not following you.” You roll your eyes, “I have to eat too.”

“You can’t wait until I’m done?”

“You look pretty done to me…” You point at his sandwich and he scoffs.

“I still have to eat it.”

“Eat in your room for all I care.”

You and Taehyung are getting along just fine…maybe not swimmingly but like, fine. It’s been a couple weeks and you have mostly stayed out of one another’s way but it’s moments like this that you end up interacting.

“I think I’ll eat at the table, thanks.” He grabs his sandwich and makes his way to the dining room table, sitting down with a thump. He aggressively picks up his sandwich and takes a bite while showing you a smart ass smile.

“Fantastic,” you state, “Me too.” You finish pouring milk into your cereal bowl and set it back inside the fridge. You dramatically make your way over to the table as well, giving him a wide grin as you sit down in front of him. You slightly slam your bowl down on the table, some milk dribbling over the edge of the bowl and Taehyung snarls.

“Great, you’re making a fucking mess.”

“If you went up and ate in you room you would have no idea about this mess.”

“But you still would have made this mess?”

“Ignorance is bliss, Taehyung.”

“You’re such a…” he stops, setting his lips into a firm line and you lean your head forward, clearly curious about what you are.

“Such a…?” you blink at him repeatedly and his lips curve upward into a charming smile.

“A fucking brat.” Taehyung grabs his sandwich again and takes an obnoxious bite while grinning and you give him your best annoyed eye roll.

Okay, maybe a little less than fine. This company has got it all wrong! All. Fucking. Wrong. You two are barely getting along! It’s just eye roll after eye roll, smart ass comment after smart ass comment. That’s it. That’s the relationship. Taehyung barely spares you a glance throughout the day. You do your own thing and he does his. You won’t lie though…you are curious what he gets up to…the last week he has left the house and doesn’t come back until sunset…and he comes back sweaty and exhausted.

You want to ask what he does, you do, you really do. But something tells you he wouldn’t even tell you even if you begged. And you’re not about to beg for this asshole.

So, you guys keep to yourselves save the occasional breakfast/lunch/dinner run in. While he does god knows what, you have also been trying to keep yourself busy. You have recently learned to cook a couple meals, nothing too fancy but you feel proud. You play a lot of games, read a lot of books and watch a lot of movies.

But to put it simple—You’re bored. Fucking bored. You miss human interaction. You hate to say it but your food run ins are mostly on purpose at this point…you just want someone to chit chat with for a few moments even if its unpleasant conversation—because hey! At least it’s conversation.

You and Taehyung eat in silence after your little convo, he and you share strange eye contact…you call it strange because it’s more like he glares at you and you glare at him. Your eyes never leave one another. You feel like he’s trying to cast like, black magic on you, maybe something where if he glares enough you will burst into flames. You assume this because that’s exactly what you’re doing.

“Stop looking at me.” Taehyung finishes his last bite, wiping his mouth clean with a napkin.

“You stop looking at me.” You fire back and he sighs, folding his arms across his chest.

“Why would I look at you?”

“Why would I look at you?” you mock, shoving a spoonful of cereal into your mouth and Taehyung squints at you.

“Oh yeah, real mature y/n.” His lips curl inward and he relaxes his arms at his sides as he stands from the table.

“I’m going to my room now.”

“You literally don’t have to announce everything you do.” You raise the bowl to your lips and drink back the leftover milk. You don’t want to look at Taehyung’s expression, you know you’re being ruder than usual. You’re just bitter. Yeah, pretty god damn bitter. You hear Taehyung release a long breath, and you’re starting to think he’s right, maybe you are a brat.

“Goodnight y/n.” he says much softer than you were expecting.

Yeah, maybe you are a brat.

~~~~~~

You’re snuggled up on the living room sofa, the TV plays some cartoon movie you found on the shelf (obviously one of his picks). The movie is on a low volume as you have a book in your hands. You just started it this morning and you have not put it down, it’s called The Roommate, a funny and sexy novel. Too bad your own roommate is nowhere near funny nor sexy. Okay, maybe he’s a little sexy. But his attitude is the opposite of sexy so therefore he isn’t sexy. Yeah, totally. Whatever you have to say to yourself, right? It’s evening now and you’re almost done with the book, you have hardly taken a break from reading. This reminds you of your last memories before the island…the night before you were…kidnapped. Yeah, kidnapped. That’s how you would describe it.

The night before you were like this…snuggled on your sofa in your parent’s house…

“All I’m saying is it doesn’t seem like you’re trying that hard to—”

“Honey, relax.” Your dad cuts in. Your mom is going on and on again about how you still haven’t found another job.

“Relax? Our daughter suddenly left her job and moved back to town!” Your mother throws her hands up, “And she won’t even tell us why!”

You sit here, your knees to your chest as you read your book. You try your best to ignore your mother…you two have rarely ever seen eye to eye. If you told her why you “quit” your previous job and why you had to move back home she would probably find a way to blame you.

“She will tell us when she’s ready.” You hear your dad whisper to your mother. “Don’t push her, you know that makes it worse…”

You can’t help but nibble on your lips, starting to feel the anxiety build. You try to focus on the words on the pages in front of you but they’re beginning to become blurred.

“Oh what is she 5 years old? You treat her like a child! She’s an adult she can handle a little confrontation.”

Your eyes lose focus on the words in front of you, instead all you see is blurred vision thanks to the tears that try to visit.

“I’ll be going to sleep now.” You announce, closing your book and setting it on the end table next to the sofa. “Goodnight.” You grab your phone and stand from your place on the couch. Thankfully, your dad offers a soft ‘goodnight sweetie’ and your mom just nods her head.

You make your way down the hall to your bedroom, opening and closing the door quickly. You lean back on the bedroom door and sigh out, blinking away any tears that tried to appear. You won’t cry. Not again. You feel your phone buzz in your hand, startling you. You unlock your phone to see who messaged you when you see it lit up with a notification from him. You feel your whole world collapsing. Why the fuck is he messaging you?

You stare at your books pages, in deep thought as you recall your last night before the island. You don’t want to remember honestly. You shake your head, ridding yourself of your thoughts when the side door opens in the kitchen. It’s Taehyung. He’s sweaty and clearly exhausted again…what the hell does he do outside for so many hours?

“Hi.” You say, looking up at him from your book. Wait. Why did you greet him?

“Hi…?” Taehyung is just as surprised as you are, with his wide eyes and open mouth. He scrunches his brows together as he eyes you. He gives you a small wave, confusion written all over his face as he begins walking through the entry way and heading upstairs.

You sit here embarrassed as hell. Why did you say hi? And why was your voice so high pitched? You turn red, redder than you probably can imagine. You drop your face in your book and groan, wishing you didn’t say something as simple as ‘hi’.

You have to remind yourself you two aren’t talking. That your roommate here at Casa de la Trapped, isn’t looking to become buddy buddy with you. Which sucks because you are human, you know, a social creature. What’s the harm in becoming friends? Sure you two banter, but you can tell he isn’t a bad guy. You just don’t get any bad vibes from him, in fact sometimes it seems like he’s forcing himself to be closed off.

You try to go back to your book when you hear a faint yelp from upstairs. Did Taehyung just kind of…scream? You sit here with your book, your ears in the direction of the stairs trying to listen for any indication that something is wrong. But it’s silent. You decide to go back to your book when you hear the noise of Taehyung running down the stairs. He is out of breath by the time he reaches you, standing next to the sofa.

You quite literally choke on your spit when you see him. This boy just don’t give a damn, huh? He’s standing here, trying his best to breathe evenly with nothing but a dark red towel hanging lowly around his hips. You gulp at the sight of him. You knew he probably had a nice body but you were not expecting this. His strong build surprises you, his soft, caramel skin glows even in this lighting and his muscles flex with every movement.

“Uh,” you begin, setting your book down again, “Can I help you?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.” Taehyung rushes to say, he sounds much different than usual. His voice is usually calm and deep but right now it’s panicked like a child.

“With what?”

“There’s a spider in the shower, I need you to take care of it.”

“You want me to kill a spider for you?”

“Kill?” Taehyung brings a hand to his chest, a shocked expression on his face. “All life is precious, y/n.” he pouts. “Just get it and take it outside.”

You tilt your head and try not to laugh as you look at him…he looks bothered, that’s for sure. But god, what a baby. Can’t even take care of a small bug by himself.

“Fine. Show me where it’s at.” You rise from the couch, pointing at the direction of the stairs.

“Yes, yes. I’ll lead the way!” Taehyung walks quickly. He makes his way upstairs with you following right behind him. He leads you into the bathroom when he brings back the shower curtain to show you the spider.

“Well?” you ask expectantly. “Where is it?”

Taehyung turns to face you, his face as white as a ghost.

“It was just here, I swear.”

You roll your eyes as you fight back a grin.

“Sure, Taehyung. Are you sure you weren’t just trying to show off your body?” you shamelessly drag your eyes down his body and he goes red.

“W-Why—why would I do that?” he murmurs out, “Plus, I am sure you’ve already imagined what I look like without clothes.” He recovers quickly, a smirk making its way on his face.

“Not likely.” You say nonchalantly. “Well, if there’s no bug—”

“Wait! You don’t expect me to use this shower still, do you?” He looks panicked again, like a small child.

“Uh, yes?”

“The spider could be lurking anywhere! Let me use your shower.” He suggests, loving his own idea. You on the other hand, do not love his idea.

“Nah.”

“Nah?”

“Yeah, nah.”

“y/n…” He whines, “Please. I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” You raise a brow, a small smirk creeping on your face. “Okay, have breakfast with me tomorrow. And you actually have to talk to me.”

“y/n…” he warns. “You know we shouldn’t do that.”

“And I want 5 facts about you.” You stand your ground, your hands on your hips as you speak. “And I’ll give you 3 about me.”

“How is that even fair?”

“I’m the rule maker here, Taehyung.” You narrow your eyes at him, “Get used to it.”

Taehyung walks closer to you, his breaths reaching your skin.

“Oh y/n.” Taehyung’s voice goes low, “I definitely make the rules.” There’s a moment of strange tension as he stares down at you…then he’s speaking again. “If you only give 3 then I only give 3. That’s the deal.”

You stare up into his dark eyes and you struggle to swallow your own spit, he might only have a few inches over you but maybe they are a little intimidating.

“F-Fine. Use my shower.” You step out of his way and gesture towards your room. “See you at breakfast tomorrow.” You wink.

Taehyung rolls his eyes but this time it almost seemed playful and not overly dramatic. You don’t want to get your hopes up but when he’s not being closed off and frankly, rude, he’s really not that bad.

“Don’t get used to these types of deals.” Taehyung throws over his shoulder as he walks to your room. “Basically, don’t get used to me.” He says a little quieter, but you still hear him and you frown.

“Like, I would want to!” you yell out.

Taehyung does not want to leave this shower, ever. He’s almost kind of bitter that he let you have this room! You get the awesome rain shower and he’s stuck with some plain, basic shower head in the guest bathroom. He eyes all the different bottles that sit on the shelves inside the shower, these must be all the bottles you use in your real life, he thinks. He grabs the shampoo and opens it to sniff it. He’s never gotten close enough to you that he can smell your hair but man, this is what you smell like? Delicious. He squirts a generous amount of the shampoo in his palm with an evil glint in his eye and massages it into his scalp. Whoops, did he just use your shampoo? Oh well. He rinses his hair out and uses your conditioner as well, but he doesn’t stop there. He uses your body wash too! It smells divine and its making his skin so soft.

Taehyung just knows that him using your shit would bother you, he just gets that vibe. And he’s not sure why but riling you up is quite fun. Taehyung turns the water off and grabs his towel and starts drying off…he steps out on to the shower mat and eyes the room as he dries himself. He sees you organized all your lotions and whatever other products onto the sinks counter top, he sees how empty “his side” of the sink is. It previously held all his belongings that he had moved into his bathroom—the guest bathroom.

“Are you almost done in there?” He hears you knocking on the door. “I want to take a shower before bed!”

“Yeah, yeah.” He whispers out, “Hold on!”

Taehyung wraps the towel around his hips again and goes towards the bathroom door, he stops to check himself out in the mirror before opening the door.

“I’m all done, cry baby.” He rolls his eyes and you secretly hope they get stuck like that for how much he does it.

“Me, the cry baby? You wouldn’t even use your own show—”

“—anyway, bathroom is all yours.” He breezes past you, but stops before exiting the bedroom. “Um…” he turns around, “See you in the morning.” And then he’s walking out.

~~~~~~

You made eggs, bacon, pancakes, and have fresh fruit in a bowl all set up on the dining room table. For some reason you are too nervous to call out for Taehyung and let him know that breakfast is ready…you know, 30 minutes ago. You just patiently wait, sitting here tapping your fingers against the wooden table.

Another 20 minutes pass by when you hear faint footsteps from upstairs…he must now just be getting up, you think. You rush to reheat up some of the food before he makes his way downstairs. You set the bacon, eggs and pancakes back down on the table and make yourself busy like you haven’t just been waiting for almost an hour.

Taehyung finally walks through the kitchen, his face evident with sleep and his hair sticking out in all directions. He blinks at you lazily before his eyes widen in panic.

“B-Breakfast. I forgot—”

“It’s okay, I just finished.” You cut him off with a strained smile. “I see you like to sleep in.”

“Most days, yeah. Because I go to bed so late.” He admits sheepishly. Then he smirks. “Can that be fact number 1?”

“I’ll allow it.”

“Oh, you’ll allow it? How gracious of you.” Taehyung takes a seat at the dining room table and he starts with grabbing two pancakes from the pile and setting them down on his plate.

“You cooked all of this?” He asks, surprised.

“No, the other people who live here did it.” You deadpan.

“Always a smart ass.” He says while pouring syrup all over his pancakes, “Aren’t you going to sit down?”

“Right…” you make your way to the table and take a seat in front of him. You start with some pancakes as well, waiting for him to finish with the syrup so you can pour your own generous amount. He notices you waiting, his eyes finding yours and the corner of his mouth twitches into a sort of half smile. He slides the syrup across the table and your hand goes out to grab it, your fingers touching his.

“S-Sorry.”

“Sorry.”

You both get out at the same time. You stare at one another for another few seconds before Taehyung rolls his eyes,

“Big deal, our fingers touched. No need to get weird.” He chuckles, and you feel your heart feel all fucking weird.

“Anyway,” you clear your throat, “What’s fact number 2?”

Taehyung takes a bite of his pancakes and moans into the syrupy mess, his eyes finding yours again.

“Oh? You’re greedy for information.”

“I’m a little greedy.” You admit, “So?”

“Fact number 2…I’m almost 5’11.”

“So you’re 5’10. Just say you’re 5’10.”

“But I’m not just 5’10. Because I am almost 5’11.” He groans, “Can’t you just humor me here?”

“Okay Mister 5’11.” You laugh, “My fact number 2 is that I have one older sister.”

Taehyung nods his head, remembering the picture of you and some other girl that you looks a lot like you.

“I see.” He swallows his food, “So you’re the baby of your family?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, I can tell.” He smirks at you, “You have that baby of the family vibe.”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” you give him a curious look and he looks at you like you can’t be serious.

“Because you’re…you know,” he gestures towards you with a knowing look and you scoff.

“No, I don’t know.”

“Brat.” He states simply. “Because you’re a brat.”

“Whatever.” You grab for some eggs and bacon, and Taehyung does the same.

“So, what’s fact number 3?” you ask, piling some eggs onto your plate.

“Already want the last fact? We are barely just eating.” Taehyung points out. He shovels some eggs onto his own plate once you are done, and sticks a piece of bacon into his mouth.

“Greedy, remember?” you remind him with a smirk. “So?”

“I’m sure you already gathered this but…I’m an aspiring musician.”

“I figured you were…that, or an artist.”

“Art is just a really fun hobby for me.” He admits. He loves to paint but singing and making music is where his true passion lies.

“What’s your last fact?” he stuffs his face with another piece of bacon, you watch him as he eats the crispy meat.

“Umm…” you look up at the ceiling as you think, “I used to think I looked bad in sun glasses but then I got over that…so now I buy any cool, funky sunglasses I can find.”

“That’s a really random fact.” Taehyung chuckles, “I like cool, funky sunglasses too.”

“Wow, are you saying we actually have something in common?” you tease, bringing a forkful of eggs to your mouth.

“Don’t get used to it.” He says dryly. “Since we said all of our facts, I guess I can go now.”

“You’re not going to finish your food? Taehyung…” you place your hands on the table. “They’re not going to assume just because we are talking that we are falling in love for Christ’s sake.”

“Don’t want to give them any ideas.” Taehyung says a bit harshly. Your face falls into a frown and you stand from the table.

“You can finish your food. I’ll leave.”

Taehyung blinks up at you and opens his mouth to say something but he remains quiet. You shake your head at him and walk off into the living room. If he wants to continue this “Little to no interaction” thing then so be it!

Taehyung sits here with his appetite lost. He holds his fork in his hand out in front of him and attempts to cut into his pancakes when he just gives up. He drops the fork onto the table and sighs out.

“y/n…” he calls out but you ignore him. “y/n!”

“Don’t talk to me.” You say with as much attitude you can muster and Taehyung silently mocks your words. He grabs his fork and aggressively cuts into his pancakes and takes a bite.

“Fine by me!” He yells out with his mouth full.

“You’re so annoying!” You groan and Taehyung silently mocks your words again but you can’t see him.

“And you’re a brat!” He says stuffing his mouth with another slice of pancake.

Great. For a moment there you thought you two could almost get along but he is set on this bullshit of not talking. You walk to the shelves in the living room and choose a new book, another romance novel. You take a seat on the couch, and curl up into a blanket. Taehyung can do whatever he wants! You’re going to enjoy your book and forget all about his annoying ass.

~~~~~~

Taehyung is finally dressed into some shorts and a sleeveless shirt as he makes his way out of the house. He is going to continue working on his little…project. You are probably wondering what he gets up to everyday, he thinks.

He is working on building a raft. He wants to escape this island but he doesn’t know how to build a fucking raft and this company didn’t necessarily give him the tools to escape. But he’s figuring it out. He is quite literally breaking tree branches and going from there. But it is taking time but apparently he has all the time in the world. 3 months? 6 months? A year or even more? He releases a long breath as he walks the path to where his “raft” is. If anything it’s just nice to get out of the house and breathe the island air. This whole thing kind of just gives him something to do and he knows this may not really work but he’s got to try. He’s a man of action after all.

He finally sees his “raft” chilling against a tree close to the beach and he walks up to it. Already feeling frustrated just looking at the pathetic thing. He has to make it big enough for two people…he isn’t an asshole, he doesn’t plan on escaping by himself, leaving you here.

He goes to his knees and holds it up, he feels his frustrations bubble over and he throws it to the ground. How the hell is he supposed to escape with this shitty thing?

He slams his eyes shut and sinks into the sand. He wants to go home. Things aren’t easy here…he can’t sleep. He is surprised he’s eating as much as he is, and he has mostly bad interactions with you. And he knows that it’s his fault. But he knows this is for the best but he can tell it’s not what you want. To be honest, this is actually really hard for him. He tries to come off as cold and closed off so you won’t take an interest in him but he’s dying! He wants to talk to you too! He is probably one of the most social of his friends! He has a lot of friends and he loves talking and hanging with them.

Taehyung feels his eyes become wet with hot tears and he grits he teeth together in irritation. He wishes he was home with his friends, with his family, with the girl he likes. He misses everyone so bad. He knows the night you two were “kidnapped” was the last day of the year, meaning they started this experiment January 1. He recalls his last few nights before the island…it was his birthday.

“No! I want him to open my present first!” Jimin whines and Taehyung can’t help the wide grin that adorns his face.

They’re all out at a bar, the music is loud and the alcohol is nonstop. Taehyung is surrounded by his closest friends, plus Hana—the girl Taehyung has been crushing on for the last year. She brought along a couple of her friends to this night out of celebration.

“He can open whoever’s he wants first…which is mine, right?” Jungkook hands Taehyung a box and Taehyung chuckles.

“Just for that, your two are going last.” Taehyung says, “How about I open Namjoon’s first since he planned this night?”

Namjoon gives the other two boys a cocky grin as he hands Taehyung a bag.

“Can I go after Namjoon?” Hana’s sweet voice is heard over the blaring music. She looks absolutely gorgeous tonight, her pink dress doing her a million favors. Not that she needs the favors, she’s always gorgeous.

“Y-Yeah.” Taehyung blushes, “But you didn’t have to get me anything…”

“Really? You practically yelled at us when you thought we weren’t getting you anything.” Jimin playfully comments.

“Shut up dude.” Taehyung grits out, “Anyway, let’s see what Joonie got me.”

The night went on, the music got louder, the alcohol kept on coming. Taehyung is so happy. Everything is perfect. He doesn’t think anything can ruin his good mood.

“Want to dance with me?” Hana’s words leave her pretty, pink lips and Taehyung finds himself nodding yes before he can even register what she said. He would literally do anything she wanted.

“Then come.” She waves him over with her small, manicured hand.

Hana and Taehyung end up on the dance floor for quite some time…he’s too drunk to be nervous like he usually is. His large hands grip at her tiny waist as he brings her in closer, she lightly moans when she feels his hard body against her.

“We should talk.” Hana breathes out, “About us.”

Taehyung’s eyes go wide, panic starting to make its way into his body.

“What about us?”

Hana chuckles lightly, she goes on her tip toes and places a soft, sweet kiss against Taehyung’s lips.

“Nothing bad, I promise.” She takes his hand and leads him outside the bar, out to a little patio. Taehyung has a huge smile on his face as he follows her outside…it’s not the first time they’ve kissed but he still can’t get used to it.

“You like me right?” she asks, pointing to herself. She’s got that sweet smile and Taehyung feels his nerves spiking.

“Yes.” He finally breathes out.

“Good. Because I like you too.” She admits, she closes her eyes for a moment, Taehyung spots the golden eye shadow that is painted over her lids. She opens her eyes again and he spots a sadness in them.

“But…” she begins and Taehyung feels his smile fade.

“But what?”

“No…it’s nothing.” She clears her throat, “You should take me on a date. And soon.” She giggles. Taehyung feels his smile grow and he nods his head.

“I would love to. We can—”

“Hey Tae!” Hobi’s voice cuts him off, “Yoongi says he just got off work and is on his way!!” He cheers happily. Taehyung turns to face Hobi and gives him a thumbs up before he’s spinning back around to Hana.

“Let’s go inside. We can discuss more on our date.” She smiles, taking his hand again.

“Sure.” Taehyung grins, his stomach doing a million flips. “Let’s go!”

Taehyung feels a few tears escape his closed eye lids as he sits in the sand. It’s too early to be in this state, Taehyung thinks. But alas, he can’t help it. He misses his life. This island put his life on complete hold. What if he’s stuck here for a year? Would Hana wait for him? It’s not like he’s expecting her to…but he thinks he would wait for her.

He stands to his feet, wiping his face of any leftover tears and he begins working for the day. He finds new trees with branches that would be easy to cut down and he resumes his little project. Hours and Hours go by and Taehyung is sitting on the beach’s sand and staring out at the water. He’s tired, he’s sweaty and he’s hungry.

Taehyung starts making his way back to the house now that the sun is setting. It’s pretty orange glow sets a relaxing mood and Taehyung feels grateful. He walks up to the side door that leads to the kitchen and watches you from the window. You look calm as usual and he feels himself feeling frustrated all over again…how are you so calm? He was having a meltdown on the beach earlier and here you are cooking dinner with a small smile on your face. He doesn’t understand you. Does this whole situation not bother you? No…he knows it has to bother you but how are you able to be so relaxed about it?

He opens the door and walks inside, startling you. You bring a hand to your heart when you see him but then visibly relax after a moment or two.

“You scared me.”

“Sorry.” He mumbles lamely. And then he’s walking up the stairs leaving you to your lonesome.

~~~~~

Month: 1

It’s been a month. A whole month! It seems Taehyung has gotten even more distant with you…no major interactions since you two had breakfast together. He keeps his comments to you brief in passing and he barely makes eye contact. You’re fed up. You’re lonely. You need interaction and you can’t always cater to him! He can suck it up for once and do what you want.

Feeling brave, you give yourself a pep talk in your bathroom mirror. That’s right, you are going to just go for it! You are going to demand that he hang out with you. You fix your hair in the mirror and nod to yourself. Yeah, you got this. You exit your room and stroll down the hall to his bedroom, once you are standing in front of it you lean your head against the door, your ear lying flat against it as you try to listen for him. The room sounds pretty quiet…maybe he’s sleeping? No, no. You’re just trying to find an excuse not to do this, aren’t you? Ugh, pathetic.

You raise your fist up and begin knocking on his door. You’re left with silence…you’re being ignored. So you knock again. And again. And ag—

“What?!” Taehyung swings open the door, revealing that he was indeed maybe sleeping. His hair is doing that funny thing where it sticks out in every direction and his eyes are barely open.

“This better be important.” He huffs out.

Suddenly, you feel a wave of shyness wash over you. You feel kind of bad you interrupted his nap…but you got to stay strong.

“Please hang out with me.” You blurt out.

“Huh?” Taehyung looks at you as if you’re crazy. “Not happening.” He quickly says.

“Just play a game with me, or maybe we could watch that movie…”

“I don’t want to do anything with you.” He raises his voice just the slightest and you flinch.

“Yeah? You think I want to do things with you? Like you specifically? Hell no! But I just want to do something damn it!” you flail your arms up, and breathe out heavily. “I am so fucking tired of always being by myself, it’s literally driving me insane.” You admit, you look off to the side as tears threaten to wet your eyes. “I am alone every single day. It has been a month, Taehyung? Did you know that? You’ve left me lonely for an entire month! I am going fucking crazy!” you bring your hands to your hips, “I have tried learning to cook all these god damn recipes as a way to distract myself but dude, I don’t even like cooking. I read all day too…I have all these imaginary book friends and that’s where I meet my social needs, isn’t that insane? Oh my god, I am going insane. And you?! How are you okay?!”

Taehyung is left speechless at your rant. He realizes that this loneliness is really getting to you…he admits he isn’t much better. But he kind of likes that you’re beginning to spiral. Is that mean?

“W-What game?” he juts out his bottom lip as his eyes slide to the side.

You stare at him with wide eyes as your chest heaves. You screw your eyes closed, and bring a hand to your head.

“What game?” you open your eyes to look at him, “That’s all you have to say?”

“What game y/n?”

You glare at him, huffing out deep breaths trying to calm yourself.

“Mortal Kombat.” You spit out, “I really want to kick your ass.”

Your fingers work the buttons on the controller as you test out every god damn combo you can…and damn it is working because you are on fire.

“You could have warned me that you actually know how to play…” Taehyung pouts.

“You should have just taken my word for it, you loser.” You continue to kick his ass in the game, you are pretty good at pretending his character is actually him.

“One more game, y/n.” Taehyung begs, “I will beat you!”

“You haven’t won even one match, Taehyung. Just admit you suck.” You chuckle darkly.

You press a few more buttons until you see the word ‘Fatality’ grace your screen, you stand up in excitement yelling out your victory, you laugh like a god damn maniac and he can’t help but chuckle. Taehyung throws his controller to the ground and pouts dramatically.

“I know what will make you feel better.” You turn to face him, calming down.

“Nothing will heal this wound, y/n.” He states, throwing the sofa’s designated blanket over his body.

“How about we watch that movie you like so much?” you offer with a smile but Taehyung goes stiff at your question.

“I think we should just call it for the day…” he looks awkwardly to the side and you slump your shoulders.

“Oh…okay.”

“Listen…it’s not you—”

“Just stop.” You hold your hand up, “You want nothing to do with me, I get it.”

“y/n…” Taehyung looks down at his hands…he does feel bad. It’s not like he didn’t have fun with you just now. He just wishes this was all different.

“I’ll be in my room—”

“Teach me how to make one of the recipes you learned.” He cuts in.

“What?” you ask, completely off guard. “What?” you repeat.

“I said,” Taehyung breathes out, “Teach me how to make one of the recipes you learned.” He’s not just trying to be nice…he’s also, you know, hungry.

You hate yourself because you light up like the sun almost immediately. You wish you were strong and you could tell him to fuck off but instead you become the god damn sun from how brightly you shine.

“Really?” you ask with the most hopeful eyes.

“Yeah.” Taehyung laughs, “Really.”

“You mean…you want to actually spend time with me?” you ask bluntly.

“I guess you can put it that way if it makes you feel better.” Taehyung rolls his eyes, but it’s in that playful way you only ever get to see so often.

“It does make me feel better actually.”

“Well, then.” He stands up and motions his hand towards the kitchen. “Shall we?”

“Are you going to be annoying the whole time?” you ask, “Or will you be serious about learning?”

“God, woman.” He rolls his eyes again. “I hope I annoy the shit out of you.”

“Oh, you already do.” You gesture for him to go to the kitchen first.

“You haven’t seen anything yet.”

“Somehow I believe you.” This time it’s your turn for the dramatic eye roll. “Now come on.”

“Oh my god. You aren’t even listening!” you yell out over Taehyung’s nonstop humming and whistling.

“I truly believe cooking is like an art, you know?” he continues to whistle some made up tune, “These instructions are like…a guide but you can kind of do what you…” he makes a fist with his hand and shakes it in front of his face. “… you want.” He finishes. “Yeah, these are more like suggestions.”

“Can we please just follow the directions.” You deadpan. “I want this to taste the way it’s supposed to!”

“You’re no fun.” Taehyung says nonchalantly. “Cooking should be fun.”

“Cooking is so we can eat.”

“These dumplings are going to taste fine, y/n.” He assures you with a grin.

“You say that but…” you look at his pile of failed dumplings. “But…” you show him with your hand the absolute mess he’s made.

“Your point?” He raises a single brow and you scoff. There’s no way he is serious, absolutely no way.

You notice Taehyung is staring at you, his eyes look everywhere but your eyes and you start to feel nervous under his gaze. He has one of those dark, intense gazes that you just can’t shake off your mind.

“What?” you finally ask. “Something on my face?” you joke.

“Actually, yes.” He blurts out. “So much flour.”

“Oh.” You start to turn red with embarrassment, “Where? Here?” you point to various spots on your face with a towel and he just shakes his head.

“No, there.” He points but you still miss it.

“Just clean it off me!”

“You want me to touch you?”

“Yes, please touch me.” Then your eyes expand in size. “Wait, that sounds wrong.”

“You have a dirty mind, y/n.” Taehyung shakes his head again, “You’re just all kinds of dirty.”

“Oh my god, stop.” You look at him with your flustered as hell face, your face is probably redder than ever and it feels so fucking hot.

“Here.” Taehyung grabs the towel from your hands and begins wiping your face clean. “Your face isn’t dirty anymore.” He pulls his hand back, “But your mind still is, huh?”

“Will you just shut up?”

“Will you just shut up?” he mocks how you usually would and you roll your eyes. Hard.

“Doesn’t feel good does it?” He teases, “Getting a taste of your own medicine.”

“Can we please just focus on this recipe?”

“Fine.” He breathes out, “Except I will ignore this recipe completely and do what I think my ancestors want me to do. They whisper in my ear that these need more garlic.”

“You are so annoying.”

“Okay, I get it, Taehyung.”

You reach behind you and untie your apron and place it on its hook by the pantry. You walk over to the dining room table and take a seat.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Taehyung quirks a brow as you rest your head on the table.

“Resting. Letting you do all the work. You can cook from now on. I give up.”

Taehyung shakes his pointer finger at you and walks your way.

“Oh no, no, no.” he grabs on to your arm and begins dragging you up. “This was your idea so we are cooking together.”

“Uh, actually this was your idea.”

“Oh.” Taehyung’s mouth hangs open as he realizes how true that is. “Not one of my better ideas…” he admits.

“Oh? Do you usually have good ideas?” You make your snarky comment and Taehyung let’s go of your arm.

“Usually the best.” He says, a cocky smile making its way on his stupidly handsome face.

“I don’t believe that for a second.”

“Well, you don’t know me.”

“Oh? And whose fault is that?” You jab at him and he visibly deflates.

“You know 3 things about me actually.” He gives you a half smile.

“All I remember is that you’re almost 5’11.”

“Well, that one was the most important. So your head is in the right place.”

Taehyung doesn’t realize it because you didn’t say anything but his face is full of flour as well. You stare up at him and start to laugh. Taehyung looks at you, confused. An adorable pout forms on his lips as he begs you to tell him what’s so funny.

“Your face.” You point at him and his fingers go to touch his skin.

“Clean me.” He commands. “I cleaned you, it’s only fair.” He points out.

You nod your head and walk towards the counter to grab the towel, Taehyung follows closely behind you. You turn around quickly and your chest bumps into his.

“Oh sorry.” He says while scratching the back of his neck, “I got too close.”

You nod lamely, but neither of you step back. Maybe expecting the other to do it? You decide to ignore that and you reach up to clean his face. He has flour everywhere. No joke. This dude is messy. You kind of laugh as you wipe his face clean, he can’t help but laugh too. His breath mingling with yours as you two giggle.

“We are kind of a mess.” He admits, his tone is soft—almost shy. You slow down the patting on his skin and you gaze into his eyes for a moment. They’re dark. They’re powerful. You feel yourself getting lost in the moment when Taehyung clears his throat and you bring your hand back down.

“There.” You say, “All done.”

“Should we finish cooking?” Taehyung grins down at you.

“I don’t know, what do your ancestors say?”

“They say you’re a smart ass.”

~~~~~~

“Do you think we could…we could do this again?” You and Taehyung are standing outside your bedroom door. Why did Taehyung walk you all the way to your door? The world may never know.

“Do what exactly?” he asks as he sways back and forth in front of you

“Play a game…or cook dinner…or you know just hang out.”

“Maybe… once a week we can play a game or watch a movie or something…” he gets out awkwardly.

“Wow, you’ll grace me with your presence once a week?” you roll your eyes, “How generous of you.”

“Listen…” Taehyung looks at you more seriously, “I know social contact is important for like, our mental health or whatever. But we shouldn’t push it.”

“You’re so…”

“I’m so what?” Taehyung steps forward and you gulp.

“So unfair.” You whisper. Taehyung bows his head down, he feels like he is shrinking. Because you’re right, he is being totally unfair. But he thinks this is the right move, the smart move.

“Y/n…” he sighs, “I’m doing this so we can leave.”

“And what if your little strategy isn’t working? It’s been a month Taehyung.” You point out, “And we’re still here.”

“I know, I know. Jesus, woman.” He breathes out, his dark eyes finding yours. “Look, they will get bored with us.”

“How can you be so sure?” you step forward. “What if we aren’t boring to them?” you whisper, your eyes staying on his.

“That’s why we should interact as little as possible.”

“Taehyung. No offense. But do you really think I want to interact with you?” you spit out, “I just need something, anything. I just need someone.” You step closer, “And you happen to be the only person here.”

Taehyung’s brows pinch together as he looks down at you, a frown decorating his face. He…he doesn’t want to be hurt by that.

“Once a week y/n. That’s all I can offer you.” He steps closer to you, his feet bumping into yours, “Don’t get greedy on me.”

You tilt your head up and chuckle,

“I told you I’m greedy though.” Your eyes stay on his, his piercing gaze causing you to shudder but you don’t break contact and neither does he. He’s challenging you, you can feel it. His eyes begin to narrow as he stares down at you, you wonder what he is thinking. He sighs out, his breath hitting your face and you blink up at him. You’re about to say something, anything when his tongue darts out to wet his lips. You mean to keep your eyes on his eyes, you really do but you don’t. You hate yourself for dropping your gaze down to his lips. He smirks as realization hits him.

“Goodnight y/n.” He says, his voice so deep and low it catches you off guard. Then he’s stepping away from you and heading towards his room, leaving you at your door. You release the longest, shakiest breath as you watch him disappear.

You open the door to your bedroom and walk inside, you wish you could yell out in frustration. You wish you could scream into your pillow and know for sure he can’t hear you. You wish you weren’t here.

You change into some sleep clothes and slide into bed. You pull the blanket up to your nose and kick your legs dramatically. This guy is so annoying! Why can’t he just not care and live life normally so you can be normal too! Listen, you aren’t fucking thrilled about this either. But you’re handling it a lot better than he is. Why is that…? Why are you handling this so well? Maybe it’s because your real life is a fucking mess and this truly is the vacation you needed. You know, you know how pathetic that sounds.

You close your eyes and try to sleep but memories of your real life keep hitting you. You hate this. You hate all of this. You’re lonely. You’re all alone. In this this life on the island but also in your real life. You’re so fucking alone. You feel tears prick your eyes and you let yourself quietly sob for who knows how long. You wish you had someone to lean on…just in general. But you lost all of your friends at work…you lost your boyfriend…you only have your parents and even they are fed up with you.

After crying tears after tears you decide you’re thirsty. You tip toe out of bed and make your way downstairs…the house is so quiet and dark. It’s relaxing and also depressing. You finally make it to the kitchen when you scream bloody murder. Sitting in the dark at the dining room table is Taehyung.

“Wow, y/n. It’s not next week yet.” He jokes. You quickly turn on the dining room light and look at him like he’s insane.

“You fucking scared me!” you exclaim loudly, “And why are you awake?”

“I have trouble sleeping…” he admits, he scratches the back of his neck and gives you a sheepish grin. “What about you?”

You step closer to the table and Taehyung’s eyes slightly expand. He notices your swollen eyes and puffy lips. Had you been crying?

“Hey…are you okay?” he whispers out, standing from his chair.

“Don’t act like you care so suddenly.” Your eyes slide to the side, “I’m fine.”

Taehyung looks down, guilt burying itself into his body. He looks up at you and tries to speak but he doesn’t know what to say.

“I just came down for some water.” You tell him. “That’s all.” You walk over to the fridge for the pitcher of cold water then you walk to the cabinet and try to grab a glass from the top shelf but you struggle. You huff out and close your eyes in frustration when you feel Taehyung’s chest on your back.

“I’ll grab it for you.” He says softly. He reaches for a glass and hands it to you, you take it from him and offer him a small thanks.

“See? That’s something only people who are almost 5’11 could do.” He teases and you look at him with a serious expression. You look down at your feet and sigh out before you let a giggle slip between your lips.

“Goodnight Taehyung.” You look up to study his face, and you see his smile fade.

“What?” you ask.

“Once a day.” He says. “We can hang out once a day. But that’s it.”

You feel your heart do something funny…you feel your tummy doing something weird too. You feel your entire chest get hit with a wave of….something.

“It’s fine, Taehyung.” You finally say after a quiet moment, “I don’t want to push you.”

“This isn’t for you.” He smiles, “I think I need the social contact too.”

“Well, no fucking duh.” You state with the roll of your eyes. “We can’t isolate ourselves…it’s so unhealthy.”

“I get it.” He breathes out, “So, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“And every day after that until we’re out of this place.”

~~~~~~~~

The next couple of days you and Taehyung play some games or watch a movie together, just doing at least one activity a day. Just like he said you two would. Admittingly you do feel better about this arrangement. Not talking at all was a pain in the ass and terribly lonely. Sometimes Taehyung will come to the living room and play a game by himself while you read, just sharing a space without really talking, even after he did his one activity with you. You hate to admit how much you like that he does that.

It’s not like you want to get to know him specifically…but you would like to sort of know the person you are living with…that makes sense, right? It’s not him! It’s just that he’s the only person here…and you want a friend. Yes, you can admit you want a friend. You aren’t going to fall in love with the dude…you just want someone to talk to and hang out with. God, is that such a crime? Plus, you’re in no place for love. If the company truly knows you, with their “research” and all then they should know you are not ready for any type of romantic relationship.

You lay here on the couch, your legs hung over the arm of it while you stare up at the ceiling. It’s hot out today and this house happens to come with a lovely pool. The ocean is scary so no beach for you…but pool? Yes. You lay here, wondering what Taehyung is up to. He went out again today like he usually does, you wonder if you can ask him about it now…now that you guys aren’t on total terrible terms. Nah, you will wait a little longer before you ask. Instead, you rise from the sofa and head upstairs to change into a swim suit.

You have a lot of options, to be honest. This place did not lack on the clothing items! You decide on a simple dark green bikini, you try it on and decide you like the way it looks. A lot actually. Have you lost some weight? You guess the lack of fast food options has made you a little slimmer, and the amount of fresh food that’s available here. Plus you started lightly working out in the home gym, sweating a storm.

You head back downstairs and go to the back where the absolutely lovely porch is located…it’s a whole wooden deck. With a glamorous pool in the center and a hot tub off to the side. You wish you really lived in a place like this—not here, specifically. (For obvious reasons) You shrug off the towel that’s wrapped protectively over your body and make your way to the pool. You don’t know what you’re being self-conscious for…Taehyung doesn’t usually come back until sunset and it’s barely the afternoon.

You dip your toes in the water first…it’s pretty chilly but you handle it, dipping your body further and further into the water. You shiver just a bit before dunking your head underneath, letting the water consume you. You stay underwater, opening your eyes and staring at the blue nothingness.

“I love you.” He says for the first time, making you float on air. You knew he was going to say it soon, you could feel it but you were not expecting it here.

You two are sitting at Cozy Coffee, your favorite place to relax and read and write. You are in the middle of writing a very intriguing sentence when your fingers stop typing in reaction to his confession.

“You what?” you ask, a small smile adorning your face. “You love me?”

“Yes.” He reaches for your hand across the table, “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

“I had a feeling.” You tease. “But I…”

“You don’t have to say it yet if you aren’t ready,” he squeezes your hand, “I can wait.”

“No!” you squeeze his hand back, “I…love you too.” You admit softly.

He brings his hand back, folding his hands together out in front of him and sighs out, his breaths escaping him softly.

“These past 6 months with you y/n…” he begins, “Have been the most wonderful.”

“They have been pretty nice, haven’t they?” you smirk. “Tell me your favorite part?”

“Any part where you’re naked, for sure.” He laughs and you gasp.

“Hey! Behave.” You warn with a smile and he keeps laughing.

“I’m serious, this is the best relationship I have ever had. You’re definitely the best girlfriend…all these other girls have been crazy.”

You frown at that, “Why crazy?”

“Ugh, you know how women can get.”

You don’t like the way he said that, you feel your smile twist into another frown.

“What do you mean?”

“It doesn’t matter. Because you aren’t like that. You’re different.”

You smile again, once again feeling special with his praise.

“Different how?”

“Jeez, you ask a lot of questions.” He half jokes. “I don’t know, you just are.”

The water is starting to sting your eyes as you continue to hold your breath, memories flooding you. This water isn’t the only thing trying to drown you. You finally squeeze your eyes shut and swim up to the surface, gasping for air once you reach it. You breathe out heavily as you try to catch a breath, your wet hair dripping down your just as wet face. You swim to the edge of the pool and lift yourself up on the ledge and sit with your legs still in the water.

Why do you have to think of him?

After an hour or so that passes and plenty of sun later you decide you’ve had enough of the day outside. You stand to your feet and grab your towel and dry off, draping the towel over your right arm. You’re still pretty wet you admit, but nothing crazy. You head for the house, walking through the back door. Once you enter the house the cool AC hits you, causing you to shiver but you decide a warm shower will solve this. You turn the corner in the hall to head upstairs when your body slams into another body. You run into Taehyung hard causing you to tumble over and fall on top of him.

Taehyung yelps out when he makes contact with you, his body falling to the hard tiled floor and he winces. You fall on top of him, your chest smooshing his face. Yeah, your boobs in his face. That’s what that fucking means. Your wet boobs in his sweaty face.

“What the hell?” Taehyung mumbles between your breasts, “Get off me.”

You’re quick to try to scramble off his body, your hands landing in all the wrong places as you try to lift yourself. He groans loudly when you make contact with his lower hips and his hands go to grab your wrists trying to stop you from moving around so much.

“Chill, chill.” He breathes out slowly, still holding on to your wrists. He makes his way out from beneath you and pulls you up by the wrists.

“I wasn’t this sweaty before you ran into me…” Taehyung observes, “How wet are you?”

“I wasn’t this wet until running into you. How fucking sweaty are you?!”

“Fair.” Taehyung says with a smirk, then he’s blinking at you. “You went swimming today?” he eyes you up and down and you immediately feel insecure under his intense gaze.

“Uh, yeah.” You take the towel that’s draped around your arm and go to cover yourself with it.

“Why are you getting shy now?” as sly smile draws itself on Taehyung’s face. “You didn’t seem this shy just a moment ago with your tits in my face?” he questions with a low voice.

“Oh my god, can we not bring that up?” you begin to blush and you hate yourself for it.

“Why not?”

“It was an accident first of all. There will never be a time again where my boobs are in your face.”

“Oh you’re making the company sad.” Taehyung pouts.

“Shut up.” You roll your eyes and Taehyung laughs. His laughter dies down though when he shamelessly eyes you again.

“Green is my favorite color.” He says while walking past you and heading upstairs.

You stand here, embarrassed as fucking usual. Your whole body warming up and you don’t even feel that cold AC any longer. You breathe in and breathe out. Taehyung is not making this stay very easy, is he?

~~~~~~

Month: 2

“Don’t you use that blue shell!” You scream at the air around you, your eyes concentrating on the screen ahead.

Taehyung smirks, working his fingers on the controller. God, he can really move his fingers. Wait, why the hell would you think that?

“Don’t tell me what to do!”

You are both totally immersed in your game, the finish line in sight. You jump to your feet in rushed excitement as the finish line is soon approaching. You need this win to tie with him on your ongoing competition in Mario Kart. You’re both oh so close, the anticipation rising. Like, honestly you might shit yourself. Taehyung also leaps to his feet, joining you at your side. Now you are both screaming at the screen, your throats will totally pay for this later. You are jumping up and down, yelling at one another , slamming your fingers on the controllers, harshly pressing down on the accelerator button. You can see it. Its literally right in front of you! AND you are ahead of him! The finish line! Your screams getting louder and louder…when…you are graced with a black screen.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” You yell in unison.

You turn to face Taehyung, the one you hate the most right now. Your eyes dark and your voice low.

“What did you do?”

“ME? I didn’t do anything!” He says accusingly.

“You must have! You knew I was going to win—”

“First of all, we don’t know that.” He cuts you off all matter of fact. So annoying.

You look at him incredulously.

“THAT’S IT! I’m going to strangle you!” Before you can take a step towards him to you know, kill him, the screen turns a bright white, catching your attention. Lucky dude. Your focus now on the screen, you look at it with your head tilted to the side. There are black letters at the top of the screen and you decide to read out loud whatever this caption says.

“Re…Request?” your eyes scan the word slowly. “Oh. Oh shit,” Your eyes go wide, you turn to face Taehyung, his expression mirroring your own. You had completely, like completely forgot about the ‘Requests’. It has been a couple months of silence so how could you not forget? You wonder if this company is finally ready to move …this…along. Whatever this is.

Only seconds pass before more black words appear on the screen. Your eyes stay on Taehyung though, too nervous to read what comes next.

Taehyung must realize you have no intention on reading anymore because he exhales deeply and faces the screen.

“Okay, here goes…” he begins, “The two subjects must…”

#bts #bts fluff #bts smut #bts angst #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #taehyung fanfic #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst

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youarejesting · 3 years

Text

Sly like a... ? Part 27

[Full Masterlist] Beta: n/a (at the moment) Rating: All (Marked Chapters 18+) Pairing: Hybrid!BTS x FailedHybrid!Reader Genre: Hybrid au, fluff, action, adventure, angst, drama, slice of life. Some marked chapters will contain mature/smut scenes, BUT they will not have plot in those scenes and are 100% skippable without losing your place in the story.

Summary: Human’s strive to be better, faster and stronger looking to animal DNA. Thus Hybrids are born. As the rise for designer and Pedigree Hybrids increase, so do the failed attempts. There is one species scientists are unsuccessful in creating, but, folklore says they have been here all along, hiding and blending in with the humans for many millennia. How clever they are.

[First] [Prev] [Next]

It had been a while since you stepped into Jimin’s work, that didn’t stop you from entering the place with a flash of your government card. Time may have passed but the odd plant or new coat of paint wouldn’t slow you down, it was like muscle memory. Your feet always knew where to go, navigating you like a GPS, your location, Jimin.

There was a certain level of sureness you held when it came to Jimin. Like magnets, you knew you could always find him. He was your longest friend. Silently hoping that he still continued to be your longest friend. Being without Jimin was like living without a limb. He was just there all the time. You didn’t know how to cope if for some reason he just disappeared.

Knocking on the door to his office you heard a tired affirmation of entry and you pushed open the door. The room gave him away. He had slept in his office last night, allowing the air to fill with his comforting scent. “You didn’t come home?” You whispered sitting across from him.

Jimin’s office was on the third floor and had a small view of a park. The sunlight would warm the office in the afternoon and you had caught Jimin sleeping on multiple occasions at his desk. He however looked cold, the clouds preventing the office from feeling its usual warmth. “We have had fights but you always came back or called. This time you didn’t?”

“I thought I shouldn’t chase something that isn’t there,” Jimin tossed the small chicken salad into the waste paper basket under the desk. His eyes kissed red and swollen. He had been crying all night. Dejected was his form, and somehow it felt worse than if he was angry.

“Jimin, I care about you a lot,” You whispered, watching him scoff as he sorted his papers. Your hands clutching the bottom of your dress hoping to control your fear. Fighting over one secret wasn’t how you wanted any of this to go and you would fight through your anxiety to clear the air. “I am figuring out that I haven’t been very professional and I am working on that. I also think I can’t live without you. I dream of my future and you are there, all the boys are there and I am scared alright, there is so much insecurity and uncertainty. I want to be a family, all of us. I don’t want to lose you.”

“I don’t think I can stay. If I am honest it is because I love you, I am in love with you and have been madly in love with you. I can’t remember the moment I fell, but I fell. It’s hard to see you with the other hybrids, to smell their scent on you sometimes drives me mad and I want to remove it.” Jimin ran a frustrated hand through his hair and looked at his hands playing with his rings.

“I don’t know how to be around you without wanting to be with you. I saw a future with you and it was only recently that I realised you saw your future differently.” He walked around the desk taking your hand, squeezing it tightly. “I won’t leave you because I can’t live without you either, but I can’t stay. I need to pull away.”

You hadn’t felt the tears until Jimin brushed them away with his thumbs, “Don’t cry.”

“So, you are giving up before you even try?” Asking the calico hybrid, the bite in your tone was anger at your stupidity, “I am dumb. I have been focused on starting this hybrid program since I can remember and have never thought about a real relationship and before you even ask, before you even confess and try to court me. You are just going to give up?”

“What do you want me to do?” He asked sadly, “If you ask me to, I will stay. but please if it isn’t going to happen don’t. I can’t take this heartbreak again. Don’t play with my feelings.”

“I want you to decide, I can’t tell you if we will be together or not, but we can try,” You expressed your utter confusion. None of your feelings made sense. You wanted him but was it because you wanted him, or you wanted love. Was it because you wanted it or because you knew he wanted it. Was it because you loved him, or because you were in love with him?

“I think it’s best if you think about it and give me some time.” He walked back behind his desk.

“How much time, you leave and maybe I might fall in love with one of the boys, or all of them,” You threatened, “You want a chance I can give you one but running away Jimin isn’t going to have opportunities falling in your lap, you are giving away opportunities to others.”

Jimin growled, throwing his chair and gripping his desk. “You are going to be the death of me. Yes. I want a chance,” He walked huffed shoulders tense and eyes locked on yours. “I want as many chances as you will give me, I want to prove how much I love you, I want to show you.”

Similar to Yoongi’s love languages, Jimin also enjoyed physical touch but where the tiger was satisfied with simply being in your company, the calico preferred words of affirmation. He didn’t understand or accept anything unless it could be confirmed. Scared to get hurt until you could definitely confirm he would have a chance.

This was his chance, you stood up walking to the edge of his desk. “Jimin, I want you to kiss me,” he turned, sweeping his lean muscular arms around your waist pressing you against the cabinet. Lips crashing against yours with unbridled passion, aggressive yet not overbearing. Jimin knew you, he knew exactly what you wanted at that moment and he didn’t hold back. His hands clutched your waist bunching up the fabric of your dress, as yours gripped his hair. Some small portion of your heart knew about these feelings shared between you but they were always overlooked and the opportunities had been missed.

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jisungsjheekies · 3 years

Text

When Paths Collide

Pairing: Lee Sangyeon x Female reader

Genre: Royal! au, fluff

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: None

Requested: No

A/N: This is the first piece I’ve written in a year so I hope you enjoy. Also, if you see any errors, pretend you didn’t lol

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

When you’d agreed to your best friend’s idea of having you participate alongside her in the annual ball, you didn’t think anything of it, knowing her parents would never allow it. After all, you weren’t of royal blood. But this was Chae you were talking about here and what the Princess wants, the Princess gets. Besides, who were you even kidding? The King and Queen had always treated you as their own, having practically grown up in the castle after you’d lost your parents at the age of seven and had been raised by your very poor aunt. So when Chae delivered the news to you, you froze in panic, unable to think of any possible excuse of why you couldn’t do it.

All of that leading up to this very moment with you and Chae surrounded by dozens of people who worked tediously to prepare you for the night ahead. Unbeknownst to you, a gown had been made in your honor, considering this was your first official ball, and you swore right there that you’d never seen anything more beautiful in life. But it was expensive, like worth more money than you could ever imagine, and even you weren’t sure you trusted it being in your possession.

“What do you think?” Your best friend appeared next to you, her flawless figure adorned in an elegant egyptian blue gown with silver embellishments covering her bust.

You took a deep breath, which had been rather difficult considering your waist was squeezed rather tightly within the corset, and glanced quickly between your best friend and the dress. “It’s…it’s..yeah.”

Her brows furrowed. “Do you not like it?” Chae asked you, sounding a bit disappointed. Quickly waving your hands to reassure her that’s not what you’d meant, you ended up sighing.

“I love it, I really do. I just don’t think it’s…me?” Your voice cracking towards the end as your nerves began to creep through. Without a word, Chae reached for the dress and walked to stand behind you, turning your figure to face the mirror as she draped the dress across your front.

The two of you standing in that position oddly made it appear as if you were the princess with Chae being the friend. Given the situation, you would’ve laughed. As if you’d ever experience this lifestyle yourself.

“My dearest best friend, with all due respect, you’re an idiot.”

A member of the royal staff was quick to scold Chae’s choice of wording but she simply paid no mind as a smile stretched across her features. She was beautiful, absolutely stunning, and with a smile as infectious as that, you couldn’t help but mimic her.

“You were born to wear this dress and quite frankly, I’m a smidge jealous considering I’m the one supposed to be seeking out my “prince” but you’re going to steal all the attention away.” Chae winked teasingly as she wiggled her brows towards your reflection in the mirror.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head at her spluttering nonsense. Like seriously, who in their right mind would even so much as glance at her when Chae was the princess.

Gesturing for you to get dressed, Chae squeezed your shoulder for reassurance before turning and continuing on with her preparations for the night ahead.

Meanwhile, you remained in front of the mirror, staring at your reflection as you continued to hold the dress in front of your body. The emerald green gown would definitely compliment your lighter skin tone, there's no doubt about it, but you’d never worn anything that extravagant before and it intimidated you. But there was no backing out now. And with that in mind, you moved to finally, and very carefully, put the dress on, admittedly struggling with the zipper at first before eventually getting it zipped all the way up.

Exhaling deeply, the process had been more exhausting than it should have. Adjusting the sleeves that hung loosely off your shoulders, your gaze captured your reflection in the mirror, your jaw falling agape just slightly.

It was you, obviously, but it didn’t feel like it was you. Your reflection almost unrecognizable as you studied yourself in the elegant gown. And yet, something felt familiar about the situation. Maybe it had been all those years of you and Chae playing dress up in all her princess gowns and now here you were.

“All rea--”, You quickly turned to face Chae, who immediately stopped dead in her tracks, gawking at you. Beginning to grow insecure at the way she stared intensely at you, you cleared your throat awkwardly to grab her attention.

Chae blinked rapidly, coming back to her senses before jokingly wiping fake tears away, adding a sniffle here and there for extra effect. “They grow up so fast.” Ignoring the way your cheeks tinted pink, you rolled your eyes and turned to look at yourself in the mirror, Chae moving to stand beside you.

You smiled softly at each other. Sixteen wonderful years of friendship the two of you have had. Through thick and thin, all your hardships and successes, your loyalty to each other never frayed. And now here you were, side by side, for yet another big moment in your lives. Obviously more so for Chae than you, but that was against the point.

She must have been thinking the same when she reached for your hand, turning her body in your direction and said, “Together.”

“Together,” you repeated, squeezing her hand.

✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The royal staff guided you and Chae through the corridors, the faint sound of music filling your eyes from a distance, the music growing louder as you drew closer. Your nerves escalated the moment you all halted amongst the entry doors. The muffled music from behind the doors was all you could bring yourself to focus on as the staff informed Chae that she and you were the last to arrive and ushered for the two of you to enter as they placed themselves on each side of the door, ready to accompany you.

It wasn’t uncommon for Chae to arrive late to events, as the King and Queen weren’t overly harsh on her, something that still surprises you till this day. The same goes for Chae’s brother, Sangyeon, or so you’ve been told. Though you really wouldn’t know for yourself considering the two of you, in the sixteen years you’ve spent with the royal family, had never officially met. It was an odd fact that occurred to you but you’d never thought too much into it before.

Straightening out any wrinkles upon her dress, Chae braced herself in front of the door, waiting for the right moment. She no longer grew nervous for these events as she’s spent her entire life doing this, however you have not, and Chae immediately recognized the way your breathing picked up and you began to bounce on your feet that you were slowly being overcome with anxiety.

“Together, I promise. I won’t leave your side.” Chae quickly reached for your hand, giving it a squeeze and immediately, your shoulders dropped in relief as you took a deep breath, watching as Chae motioned the staff to open the doors.

With one last squeeze, you dropped hands and straightened your back, having watched Chae perform the same motion many times throughout your friendship. You may not have been the part, but for Chae’s sake, you sure were going to fake it.

“Introducing”, right away the music lowered as conversations throughout the crowd came to a halt, everyone’s attention turning towards the grand stairwell. “Princess Chae and Lady Y/N.”

You had attended a few royal balls before but now that you were being put in the spotlight for the first time, you struggled to comprehend just how many people there were. And every single one of them were staring at the two of you.

Applauds erupted throughout the ballroom as Chae curtsied, you quickly followed in her lead, before straightening your backs once again and presented the guests with a smile. In the next moment, the two of you began to descend the grand stairwell as every pair of eyes remained glued to your figures. It was nerve wracking to say the least, even though you knew they were mostly watching the princess, you didn’t want to draw any attention to yourself by making a mistake.

Taking slow and cautious steps, you began to scan the room before you, guests smiling widely as they watched their beautiful princess. The gaze of the King and Queen caught your eye, a look of warmth and love on each of their faces as they watched their daughter and you, someone who they consider a daughter, become the center of attention. Your smile grew even wider as the Queen gently placed her hand over her heart, something she always tended to do to let you know she was there for you. The thought made your heart swell.

Nearing the bottom of the stairwell, you continued to study the crowd of guests when a shiver ran through your body. The peculiar feeling of someone staring at you engulfed you and your eyes became a bit more frantic. There were an innumerable amount of guests, of course there was at least someone looking at you but you couldn’t shake the feeling.

In one moment, you were searching the crowd, trying your hardest not to trip over your own feet, and in the next, you were frozen in place, your eyes locked with the man who now stood alongside the King and Queen, realization hitting you like a freight train.

Sangyeon.

Another shiver spread throughout your body as your vision turned white, seconds later a distant memory emerged before your eyes.

You stood before the closed doors, alone, as you patiently waited. The distinct melody of Liszt’s 6 Consolations filled your ears as you braced yourself, shoulders back and head held high. The doors swung agape, with one foot after the other, you sauntered forward as everyone began to applaud, for their Princess had arrived.

Hands gripping each side of your gown, you performed a curtsy before straightening your figure and beginning to descend the stairwell. Guests would bow respectively as you passed, nodding your head in acknowledgment as you wandered through the crowd. Your gaze landed upon your brother, conversing with a man who’s back faced you.

As you drew closer, your brother glanced over the man’s shoulder and smiled at you, excusing himself momentarily from the conversation as he focused his attention on you. You had not had a moment to glance over the man as your brother positioned himself directly between the two of you. Wrapping his hands around yours, he held them tightly together and said, “My dear sister, you look absolutely beautiful tonight.” He pulled you in close before leaning into your ear and whispered teasingly, “But not as beautiful as me.” You wrinkled your nose, shaking your head in amusement before your brother regained his composure, but not before quickly shooting you a wink. After clearing his throat, your brother began to speak. “If I may, I’d like to introduce you to a good friend of mine.”

Stepping aside, you finally received the chance to see the face of the man your brother had been speaking to before you’d interrupted. “Princess Y/N, meet Sangyeon.”

Sangyeon stepped forward, bowing respectively before you. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet your acquaintance, Princess.” Sangyeon reached for your hand, ever so gently placing a kiss upon the kiss and smiled. A shiver ran through you as goosebumps arose. Your cheeks turned a subtle shade of pink at the way he gazed into your eyes.

“The pleasure is all mine, Sangyeon.”

Blinking swiftly as the image vanished, you returned to your senses. Finding yourself still on the stairwell with Chae only a step or two ahead of you, you’d discovered that it had only been a few seconds when the vision hit you but it had felt like an eternity. Your feet refused to move, still weighed down from whatever had just happened, that is, until you locked eyes with him again and noticed that he wore an expression that matched yours.

Realization seemed to hit the both of you at once and you watched as he began to propel his way through the massive amount of guests, spluttering out apologizes here and there. Meanwhile, your cursed that your feet could not move faster as you hurried down the remainder of the stairwell, catching up to Chae, the two of you reaching the bottom together but you didn’t stop moving, not even when Chae called out to you, confusion evident in her voice.

Guests glanced in your direction as you frantically weaved your way through, but otherwise, continued to watch the princess. You were bound to get lost in the crowd as you stood on the tips of your toes, trying to catch any glimpse of him but found nothing. A hand enclosed around your wrist just as you were about to hustle your way through once more and you halted in your tracks, your head turning at such a rapid pace, you could’ve given yourself whiplash.

Gently, Sangyeon tugged on your wrist, urging you to face him. Time seemed to stop as neither of you spoke a word, your eyes remaining locked with one another. Slowly, he shifted his grip from your wrist and clasped your hand in his. Without breaking eye contact, he carefully lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss upon it just as goosebumps appeared on your skin. His eyes sparkled underneath the chandeliers as his lips lifted faintly in a fond smile. He felt it too. You couldn’t bring yourself to move or even speak as the Prince bowed before you. This caught nearby guests' attention and when Sangyeon stood straight, he pulled you close enough for only your ears to hear and whispered.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet your acquaintance, Princess.”

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