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hunnylagoon · 10 months

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Birthday Girl

A/N This is my first tumblr fic. I’m a retired Wattpad warrior, I only wrote this bc the Ellie tag is over diluted by smut, we need some angst and fluff to balance it out. My credentials are that I used to write Game of Thrones fanfic and I was blocked by Noah Beck on Twitter. Apologies in advance for any spelling errors or confusing sentences, bc I was high off my ass when I wrote this.

Summary

Jackson’s resident Baker works herself tirelessly to take care of everyone on their birthday and ensure they get something nice to brighten their special day but who is there to take care of her?

Birthdays are like brilliant gems in the kaleidoscope of time; they are the times when life's symphony crescendos into a celebration of its children. As the sun circles the earth once a year, we are given a day to celebrate our own journey, a day that whispers stories of victories, laughter, and the sweet notes of resiliency. You had always loved birthdays, who didn't? The look of joy on someone's face when they open a gift you spent weeks looking for, the uncontrollable smile and pure serotonin that took over even the grumpiest of people. Everyone had a special day designated to them, of course, it was a cause to celebrate.

You worked in the town bakery with very few other people, from five am to twelve pm on Monday to Friday every single week you were hustling around in a humid bakery, hell, you ran it like the navy. Every morning, walking into the bakery is like stepping into a fragrant paradise where time seems to slow down to the sound of ovens buzzing to life. The first two hours were just for you before you let anyone in, The comforting routine of donning a flour-dusted apron and tying back unruly hair precedes the artistry of crafting pastries and breads. The almost therapeutic rhythm of kneading, rolling, and shaping becomes second nature: the soft crack of eggs, the calculated pour of sugar, and the clouds of flour hovering in midair.

There wasn't much creative freedom while working in the Jackson bakery, it really just consisted of making dozens of bread loaves daily and then carting them over to the 'Barbecue Place' Which was once a restaurant though it had been refashioned into Jackson's mess hall. However, you were able to dabble in some fun and were able to make cupcakes daily and a large batch of miscellaneous pastries every Friday. The cupcakes were very dear to you, you had to beg Maria when you were thirteen to approve the idea and eventually, you were green-lit.

As you step into the bakery you are greeted by the creek of wooden planks which are a testament to decades of busy activity; the dance of innumerable bakers has worn away at their shiny surfaces. The aroma of baked goods still hovers in the air from the previous day and all the days that came before, taking you to a more peaceful time. Sunlight streams through old lace curtains, illuminating worn, mismatched tables and chairs that have served eager clients for centuries though they no longer serve guests in the bakery. Deeply patinated wooden shelves support a variety of ceramic jars, each containing a treasure trove of hidden ingredients. Fading photos and yellowed newspaper clippings decorate the walls, telling the story of the bakery's illustrious past. There are copper pots and pans strung like time capsules on strong hooks, and an old-fashioned cash register sits on the end of the counter past the empty glass displays, it no longer serves a purpose but you have fought bravely to keep it around as it makes you think of what life had been like before the world fell apart.

You look at a beat-up calendar on the walls, sitting in the place of an old picture frame that had been knocked down and shattered by none other than yourself when you were fourteen and had the bright idea of having you and your friend toss a bag of flour at each other to see who was strong enough to last longer in the odd game of catch. Surely, Ellie threw the five-pound bag a little too hard, you ducked to save yourself but it smashed into the framed photo of the family who ran the bakery before the apocalypse. It not only was smashed into little fragments but the bag of flour exploded and covered the dining room of the bakery as well as yourself in white powder, it looked like it had snowed inside. The calendar you were checking held the birthday of every person in Jackson, it was messy and hard to read as you usually had to cram several birthdays into a single day which was only a small square, it was hardly legible, there was almost no one else who could read it. Every day when you walked into the bakery, the first thing you did was check the calendar to find out whose birthday it was, then you began your bread dough or carried on with the sourdough started the day before, while the dough rose, you made cake batter, adjusting the recipe according to how many you had to make. After finishing work for the day or sometimes when you were midway through it, you would give each person a cupcake to celebrate their special day.

Even if no one else remembered their birthday, you were always there to make it a little bit better.

Today there were two birthdays on the calendar, Sean Casey, a man who was turning sixty. The second birthday marked down in the little square was yours.

That's what made that day so special, you were ecstatic to see what your friends had planned for you later. Last year Ellie promised that she would go above and beyond for your next birthday and you were going to hold her to that. There was already a nice start to your morning by having your dad wake you up with breakfast in bed which you found truly impressive as he usually slept in till at least ten, on top of that he had scavenged a stand mixer for the home. You grabbed your apron off of the hook putting it over your neck and tying it tight around your waist. Everyone had a couple of designated aprons to rotate through throughout the week, yours consisted of two plain white ones, a red gingham pattern, one of forest green, and another made of a fabric covered in hyacinth flowers, their colours diluted like paint. Today you wore the apron your father gave you last year on your birthday, it was your favourite colour and the neckline was embroidered to say '(y/n)s kitchen'. You could tell your dad did the embroidery himself, the stitches were loose and uneven in some areas while being extremely tight in others, that's why you loved it so much, it was the thought and care behind it.

With a gentle hand, you pulled each of your necessary ingredients along with equipment out to begin your day. You preheat the ovens and in the quiet pre-dawn hours, the bakery comes alive with the hushed sounds of industrial mixers. The heady scent of freshly milled flour dances in the air as you measure the precise alchemy of ingredients, your hands moving with practiced grace. Kneading the dough becomes repetitive, muscles working in harmony to transform a mound of humble ingredients into a soft elastic texture. As the dough rests and rises, the anticipation builds—the promise of crusty loaves and soft, pillowy interiors. You slipped the pans of dough into the industrial ovens, the heat attacking you the second you opened the door; making sure to place the pumpernickel, rye, sourdough, brioche and wheat loaves all sorted on different racks in the respective ovens.

By the time you put the loaves in ovens it had been two hours from when you began, even with preparation the day before and dough starters, it was a process. You quickly washed your hands before unlocking the door for Juno as well as anyone who wanted to come in to visit.

The clock read '7:09', because of the passthrough you were still able to look outside via the glass storefront, you could see people walking along the streets heading to whatever job they worked to contribute to the community, no one got paid, it was a commune after all, you couldn't imagine a world where everyone was so dependent on money and so obsessed with over-consumption. Part of you was waiting for one of those people to come in and wish you a happy birthday, but you shook the thoughts from your head.

You began to make the small portion for two of cupcake batter, remembering distinctly how four years ago you sat next to Sean at the Fourth of July party and he went on and on about how much he hated vanilla, it seemed like one of those crazy old man rants but you found delight in it. Never had you seen a man so passionate about cake flavouring. He said vanilla was nothing special, flavourless; you had come to learn that he was a chocolate man, every holiday event filling his pot belly with chocolate, when you had brought assorted sweets for a Christmas party he dove straight for the brownies. So it was easy for you to make up your mind on what flavour of cupcake to make.

After years of this cupcake tradition you had memorized each ratio to make, a double serving of chocolate batter consisting of 1/4 cup of flour, 2 1/2 tablespoons of white sugar, 1 tablespoon of unsweetened cocoa powder, 1/4 tablespoon of baking soda, a dash of salt, 2 tablespoons milk, two tablespoons canola oil, 1/4 tablespoon vanilla extract. You treated baking like it was a science and recipes were your formulas.

As for the frosting, you had a stockpile of plain buttercream that you took small servings from and flavoured according to said person's preference. All you had to do was whip it up and add some cocoa powder to make it fluffy and creamy again.

The bell above the doorway rang, signalling the arrival of someone, you looked up to see Maria. "Hey, there," You smiled, turning off the stand mixer so you could hear her.

"Hi, (y/n)," She greeted and you quickly wiped whatever was on your hands onto your apron before coming around to the service counter to speak with her. "I have something to ask of you."

"Yes?"

"I know you already do your little cupcake thing but we are throwing a surprise party tonight for Sean and I was hoping you could make a cake for him?"

You nod with a smile "Anything for the town chief."

"Great, then how about a simple vanilla cake?"

"Sean doesn't like vanilla," You answered quickly.

"Okay, well I trust you with it, his party starts at eight tonight in the town square and he's turning sixty so it's a big one, I'll see you there around then?"

"Definitely," You grinned at Maria, waiting for her to wish you a happy birthday and reveal that she was only pretending to forget but she didn't. She thanked you and walked out, leaving you in a flour-covered apron with a tinge of hurt in your heart. It wasn't like you weren't close with Maria, you had Thanksgiving at her house every year.

Nonetheless, it was only a blip in your soon-to-be perfect day. Just as you had frosted the two cupcakes, putting chocolate chips on Sean's and breaking half of a double fudge cookie and sticking it into the thick icing. Rainbow sprinkles cascade like confetti, adding a whimsical touch to the miniature confection. The bell rang again calling for your attention, this time you didn't leave the kitchen instead just moved to look at whoever it was by the passthrough.

"Hey, kiddo!" Tommy greeted, clad in a red flannel tucked into blue jeans. He walked into the bakery as comfortably as he would his home.

"Howdy, Tommy," You said, moving out of his sight for a quick moment to put the two cupcakes in the fridge to prevent the buttercream from prematurely melting.

"So, it's Sean's birthday today and I was wondering if you could bake a cake for his party-

"Maria was already in," You answered "Don't worry, I'm on it."

He smiled "Of course, you're always so on top of it," He leaned over the counter slightly, trying to get a look inside the kitchen via the passthrough "Say, have you got anything back there for me?" You opened the box of double fudge cookies you made the day before and scooted around the passthrough to hand him one, boots clattering on the ground. Tommy loved to visit the bakery as you always had a sweet treat for him and he would never get sick of the aromatic embrace of fresh bread. "Thanks, kiddo, I'll see you around."

This was the moment you were almost convinced that they were planning a surprise party for you, sure Maria could forget about your birthday, she was a busy lady but there was no way Tommy would. He was good buddies with your dad and was over at your place for beers a minimum of once a week. You always baked for him when he came over and he constantly joked about you trying to fatten him up.

The bell sounded again though you didn't bother to look up, you knew who it was by the time of the clock, Juno was starting her shift. As usual, she tied her mousy brown hair into a sleek ponytail then grabbed her apron and stuck a baseball cap on over her head so there was no chance of her hair coming loose. "Good morning," She walked into the kitchen, heading over to the sink to wash her hands.

"Mornin'," You answer.

She looks you up and down with a slight smile "You're wearing your favourite apron, must be a special day."

“Sure doesn't feel like it."

♡

Your birthday wasn’t panning out great but you didn't want to lose hope.

You had walked over to the greenhouses after your shift to find Sean, he loved the cupcake, he even hugged you which was nice albeit a little odd. You walked through town a bit after you had stopped and talked to everyone on the street for not a single one to say the words you've been pleading to hear all day. Taking it as defeat, you grabbed a sandwich for lunch from the mess hall and began the desolate walk home.

Nestled at the end of a peaceful, tree-lined street, the charming but battered house had a certain charm that cut through its worn yellow exterior. Tentacles of ivy wrapped about the crumbling outside walls, their green tones infusing the dilapidated building with a hint of the natural world's tenacity. The worn-out yet friendly doormat and weathered rocking chair on the porch told of years spent taking in the changing of the seasons. The wooden frames of the windows, adorned with faded drapes that seen innumerable sunsets, spoke tales of laughter and time passed.

The house's coziness unfolded inside like a time capsule, with worn-out rugs covering creaky floorboards and a fireplace in the living room that was adorned with vintage tiles that were mismatched and provided warmth in more ways than one. The rooms had a lived-in comfort despite the peeling wallpaper and chipped paint, and each mismatched piece of furniture seemed to tell a story of its own. Despite being tatty and ragged around the edges, the house exuded a calmness that invited guests to enjoy the beauty concealed in the flaws of a place that had aged gracefully and with character like most homes in Jackson. The living room was always your favourite, there was a spruce bookshelf pushed behind the gray, L-shaped couch, and the rug was once a maroon colour though it's clear that it's been well-loved over the years. Pillows and throw blankets were carelessly scattered over the couch from when you and your dad had watched '21 Jumpstreet' the night before, he kept saying it was a shame the outbreak happened before they got to make a second one, though many of the jokes didn't land with you, you loved to see your dad laugh so hard he snorted. The room was illuminated by a warm glow from the fairy lights overhead that your dad scavenged years prior, a small stack of books piled up on the coffee table which had been hand-crafted by Joel.

You popped 'Mean Girls' into the DVD player, just to have some background noise and went to the kitchen and started on Sean's cake. As much as you loved the bakery, you wanted to be somewhere a little more close to comfort.

As you measured each ingredient with care, you couldn't shake the bittersweet feeling that lingered in the air. Sifting the ingredients into the bowl, you had wished your father was home from patrol duty, all you really wanted was a hug but instead, you slaved away at a black forest complete with layers of moist sponge, decadent frosting, and a profusion of vibrant decorations.

As you delicately frosted the cake, your mind flitted between thoughts of the celebration and the poignant fact that everyone seemed to have overlooked your own special day. The kitchen, usually a sanctuary for you to escape to, now harboured the weight of unspoken emotions. Your heart, though excited for Sean to get a nice surprise on his Birthday, held an unnoticed longing for acknowledgment.

The aroma of the baking cake filled the kitchen, mingling with the scent of disappointment that you couldn't quite shake.

As the cake took shape, you couldn't help but think back to the calendar at the bakery, where the date circled in red seemed to mock you. Your own birthday, usually a day filled with surprises and the warmth of laughter, had slipped through the cracks of everyone's awareness. Though the night was still young and Ellie had said that she was planning something incredible.

Finally, nine was about to roll around, you changed into some clean clothes that hadn't yet carried the memories of your disappointing day, just a white top and some jeans. The sun had set, and your dad wouldn't be home for a good while so you walked over to the town square alone.

There was a table full of food and a long banner that read 'Happy Birthday Sean!' strung between two street lamps. There were twinkling fairy lights illuminating what would have otherwise been a dark night.

"There she is!" Tommy smiled, doing that awkward little dad jog over you. "Wow, that cake looks incredible, mind if I take it off your hands?"

"Go ahead," You held out the cakeboard. Tommy gingerly took it away from your grasp, his forearm underneath to support and his other hand held the side of the board for balance.

"I owe ya' kiddo," He winked before taking the cake away to show a group of adults.

You stood around awkwardly for a moment, unsure of what to do with yourself. You turned your attention to the moon, wanting to believe that it shined so very bright just for you, because the moon, unlike everyone else recalled how important this day was to you-

"SURPRISE!" Everyone erupted in cheers as Sean walked up to his party, his daughter had her arm linked with his. He had the biggest smile on his face it almost made you forgive everyone for forgetting because at least Sean got something thoughtful.

"Lord, I was thinking everyone forgot my birthday!" Sean laughed, pulling Tommy in for a hug.

"(y/n)!" Dina yelled, you turned your head to follow her voice. She was sitting at a long picnic table beneath an awning with some friends "Over here," She motioned for you to sit down and you obliged, taking a spot between Ellie and Laila. "What have you been up to? I feel like I haven't seen you all day."

"That's because you haven't," You said with an awkward smile. "I've just been baking, like always."

"You're always working so hard, I swear you live in that bakery and when you aren't in there your busy busting your ass around town to make sure everyone gets something on their birthday," Dina sat across from you and put a hand onto yours "You look out for everyone, but who's looking out for you?"

"My dad?" You glance at Ellie who isn't tuned into the conversation in the slightest, she has her arms crossed in front of her on the table and her head resting on them.

"Aw, that's sweet-" Kayla moves to look at you but in doing so, she spills a glass of juice onto you. "I'm so sorry," She slaps one hand over her mouth, her eyebrows furrowing. Kayla stood up from the table, her ginger curls rustling with the breeze "I'll get a cloth or something-

"Don't worry about it," I wave her off "It's just clothes, I'll grab some napkins." You push yourself away from the table, walking over to the table adorned with food, you see a small stack of Christmas themed napkins (it must've been hard for them to come by regular ones) and grab a handful, bunching them up in your hand in an attempt to soak up some of the juice that had already indefinitely stained your clothes.

You feel some eyes on you from the other side of the table, to look up and see Joel, he doesn't say anything though his lips are pressed together tight.

"You're back," You say, a spark of happiness rekindling inside of you "So my dad's back from patrol too?"

Joel nods "Too tuckered to come out, said he was just heading home," He uses tongs to put a couple cuts of chicken onto his plate "Oh and happy birthday, you've probably heard that a whole bunch already, lord, it's all your old man would talk about on our last couple of patrols."

"What did you say?" You look at him with furrowed eyebrows, unsure if he said what you really thought.

"I said happy birthday, shame you've stained your clothes on your birthday," He absentmindedly added some mashed potatoes onto his plate. The words hung in the air, a moment that transcended the boundaries of their usual exchanges. You, momentarily taken aback, met Joel's gaze. It was a simple, earnest wish, uttered with the spontaneity of someone who had remembered a small yet significant detail in the whirlwind of festivity.

"Thank you, Joel," You replied, your voice carrying a mix of surprise and gratitude. In that fleeting instant, the isolation that had surrounded her seemed to dissipate. A connection, however tenuous, had been forged in the acknowledgment of her existence amidst the collective celebration.

"No problem, kid, I'll see you around," He left with his plate leaving you to stand alone at the table. You continued to dab at the juice on your white top, and though you knew it wouldn't come out you proceeded to rub it; the best exchange of your day, no more than eight sentences suddenly turned from joy to frustration. The only two people who remembered your birthday were your dad and a fiftey-eight-year-old man who practically raised the girl you had spent years crushing on, not the girl herself, but her father figure. However, you thought, maybe if Joel remembered, Ellie had aswell and she actually did have something planned.

Amidst the lively chatter and laughter that reverberated through the night, you stood in the midst of flickering candles and colourful decorations, your eyes cast down to the ground. The atmosphere of celebration enveloped her, but a palpable sense of solitude hung in the air like a heavy mist settling upon your shoulders. It was a birthday party, yes, but not your own. Forgotten and overlooked, your heart echoed with a quiet ache, the irony of your situation casting a shadow over the festive scene.

The square was adorned with streamers and balloons, a tapestry of colours that seemed to dance in rhythm with the joyful voices around her. The community gathered, their faces lit by the warm glow of the fairy lights and street lamps, each one caught up in the merriment of the moment. Yet, for you, the celebration felt like a distant spectacle, a scene from which you were detached.

It was your birthday too—a fact that no one cared enough to recall. As Darla (Sean's daughter) calls guests toward a decadent cake adorned with candles, which you had made, you couldn't escape the bitter irony of the situation. You watched as the room erupted into a chorus of "Happy Birthday," the song meant for another soul, another moment of joy. You joined in, lips forming the familiar words, your voice harmonizing with the collective melody. But within the depths of your being, the celebration rang hollow, a stark contrast to the cheer that echoed around you.

Throughout the evening, you navigated the party with a forced smile, concealing the invisible weight of your emotions. Conversations buzzed like bees in your ears, no- it grated like a fork in a blender, but you found yourself on the outskirts—a silent observer amidst the numerous connections. The laughter that erupted like fireworks, the clinking of glasses, the embraces of old friends—it all seemed distant, an echo from another realm where she once belonged.

The party unfolded as a series of snapshots: a group photo with smiling faces, a toast to Sean, and the opening of gifts that weren't meant for you. Each moment, though vibrant and filled with the warmth of shared camaraderie, magnified the silence that enveloped your own celebration, forgotten and left to dissolve into the shadows.

As the night carried out, seeming like the celebration would never cease, you cut yourself a slice of cake, grabbing one of the half-melted candles that Sean had already blown out, they sat in a frosting-covered pile next to the cake. You took your favourite colour out of the rainbow assortment of candles and stuck it into the piece of black forest cake.

With your cake you sat back down by Ellie at the picnic table where she still returned to after conversing, everyone else had gotten up to dance. You reached for the lighter in your pocket and struck it to ignite, sparks flickered around the end of it, you struck it again and a flame arose, you carefully brought it to the wick of the partially melted candle.

The flickering flame cast a subtle glow as you made a silent wish for understanding, for the beauty found in selflessness, and for the recognition that sometimes the most meaningful celebrations are the ones we craft for others, even in the quiet echoes of our own unacknowledged birthdays. Ellie turned to look at you as the candle's flame danced in the darkness, before you could blow out the candle to solidify your wish a little girl climbed up onto the bench and blew it out, you looked at her and all she did was smile up at you, the gap in her teeth prominent, her deep chocolate hair braided so intricately you had to believe that it must've taken her mother hours.

As much as you wanted to deck that little girl in the face for ruining your moment, you didn't because it would be wildly inappropriate. "Do you want this?" You sighed, holding out the plate to the girl, she smiled and nodded enthusiastically, taking the cake and scattering away "Hey, Ellie," You pushed back tears in your eyes, forcing a smile on your face "Got any plans later?"

“Yeah," She said, short

"Oh, what are they?"

"Not to sound like a cunt but I'm not really in the mood to talk, I had a shit patrol and all I want to do is go home, smoke a joint, watch a movie, maybe read a comic, and pass out on my couch, the only reason I'm here is that Dina dragged me out and Joel said I need to be more involved in the community."

Your smile dropped, you couldn't hold it in anymore, realizing that this wasn't the elaborate setup of a surprise party but Ellie genuinely forgot it was your birthday. "Are you serious?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Do you know what day it is?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you remember what's happening today?"

"It's Sean's birthday," She gestured to the party around her.

"You're fucking serious," Any amusement that had been in your tone was gone, replaced by a subtle anger boiling up inside of you

"Are you going to cry?" Ellie gave you a weird look "What are you so mad about?"

"I can't believe you," You laugh bitterly "Actually I can, this is so like you, I need to stop building it up in my head that you're going to surprise me with something great. But hey, at least you never fail to let me down."

"Jesus," She scoffed "There's always something going on with you, can you go one day without finding some irrational reason to be upset?"

"Irrational?"

"Yeah, irrational," She reiterated "You always come to me when something sets you off in the slightest then your problem becomes everyone else's. You're so fucking draining and I'm sick of it."

"Fuck you, I hope your comic catches fire from your joint and you burn your place down." You stand up from the bench, wiping tears away from your eyes. Your boots clattered against the cobblestone. You stormed past the dancers, some stopping to look at one another with concern. Dina leaves Jesse to ask Ellie what happened.

The walk home might've been the loneliest you had felt in your life, the harsh wind of the night bit at your nose. The feeling of the sticky juice soaking through your clothing was borderline unbearable, were just about ready to scream. There wasn't a single person out and about as everyone was either at the party or cozied up in their own homes.

Arriving at your doorstep, you fumbled with the handle, the metallic clink resonating in the quietude that enveloped the house. The door swung open, revealing the dimly lit foyer, still no surprise. Why do you still think there is going to be a party? No one is coming.

You wandered into the living room, the TV was lit with the options screen for 'Mean Girls' that you had put on hours earlier.

Sinking into the worn-out couch, You let the weight of the day wash over you. A single tear welled in your eye, and as it escaped, a floodgate of unshed sorrow burst open. The first teardrop traced a silent path down your cheek, leaving a glistening trail of heartache in its wake.

The tears you cried weren't silent and dainty but violent sobs that burned your throat each time you cried out. As you wept, it felt like someone had stabbed your gut with a thousand needles, you cried and cried, to no one in particular, maybe the moon glistening outside the window though the moon seemed to absorb your tears, offering no solace in return.

The soft tick of the clock on the wall echoed in the quiet room, marking the strike of midnight, your birthday had ended. There was no secret party or a prank where everyone was only playing an act, only the emptiness of the house echoed the howls soaked in your tears.

The oak staircase creaked, and your dad turned the corner, peering into the living room. "What's wrong, honey,?" He shook the sleep from his mind, focusing on what was important, he sat next to you on the sofa. "I thought you said you were going to be out all night with your friends?"

You shook your head, breathing shaky breaths alone, hardly able to get a word out "They forgot," You felt the harsh sting of desolation hit you all over again "Everyone forgot," You grabbed his grey t-shirt burying your face into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, cradling you gently like you were a child who had just scraped her knee not someone who had just turned nineteen, "Except for Joel, so be nice to him, please."

"I'm sorry, baby, it was probably just a mix-up," He rubbed one hand on your back to comfort you. "I should've been there with you, I'm so sorry."

You couldn't get the words out of your mouth, all you could manage was to shake in your father's arms with sobs until you cried yourself to sleep.

♡

"Happy birthday, Jasmine!" You smile brightly, presenting a lemon-raspberry cupcake to the woman. She was serving breakfast in the mess hall, the early morning light streaming through the many windows, blinding those trying to enjoy their meals.

"Aw, thank you, love" She took the cupcake "That's real sweet," She wore a hairnet, despite having short cropped hair. "I just realized I don't even know when your birthday is."

"It was yesterday, actually."

"Aww, how was it?" Jasmine smiled, her white teeth contrasting with her dark skin.

"It was nice, it was quiet too, I just spent it by myself."

A frown replaced Jasmine's smile and she lowered her tone "Did your friends drop the ball?"

You wave off her question "Oh no, loads of people remembered, I just wanted some time to myself, it was nice."

You could tell Jasmine didn't wholeheartedly believe you, she was at Sean's party last night and saw you rush out with tears building in your eyes "If you say so," She shrugged, taking a bite of her cupcake "This is really good."

"Thanks," A small smile plays on your lips.

"God bless you, sweetheart, you deserve the best." She said, every bit of truth behind her words. She took another bite of the cupcake, savouring the sweet and sour taste "And I mean that."

You were too caught up in conversation to notice Jesse ahead of you in the service line right away, he grabbed a glass and filled it with water from the dispenser, trying to play cool and not have your attention drawn to him. With a shaky hand, he put the glass on his tray and hurried over to the table where Ellie was eating with Dina. "Guys, something not that great just happened."

Ellie furrowed her eyebrows looking from Dina to Jesse "What?" She asked through a mouthful of scrambled eggs, she swallowed them down and spoke back up "Please tell us what terrible thing has happened in the time it took you to walk to the service line, get your food and come back?" Sarcasm dripped from her voice.

"We forgot (y/n)'s birthday," He said quickly, Ellie and Dina looked at each other with wide eyes, thinking back to the night before and the way they had both behaved. Dina was extremely ignorant and Ellie got into an argument with you, though Jesse didn't speak to you at all.

"We're awful friends," Dina says quietly, scraping her mind for any way they could salvage the situation and play it off like they hadn't forgotten. "We could change all of the calendars in town and make it seem like her birthday is actually today."

"Be serious, Dina," Jesse said, though he was considering her idea. "I think the only way we can fix this is by making it up to her."

"How would we do that? We can't make it up to her, she remembers every single person's birthday in this town and gives them a cupcake, even people she doesn't like, do you remember how she planned all of our birthday parties for the last four years and has never let us down?" Dina and Jesse nodded "And how we always scramble something together last minute? Like last year, we only remembered two days before and we threw her a subpar movie night, we watched Star Wars and she doesn't even like Star Wars."

Dina sucked air through her teeth "Yeah, not our best moment."

"You think?" Jesse asked, sarcastically. "And Ellie didn't make it any better by yelling at her yesterday!"

"You yelled at her? You told me you didn't yell at her," Dina whipped her head to look at Ellie, the smallest glimpse of judgment in her eyes. "Shh, she's coming!"

You were making your way to the exit lugging the cart that had held loaves of bread on it before you dropped them off to the kitchen, still in your flour-covered apron, hair pinned up messy, baby hairs flying away. Clad in jeans, a green T-shirt and beaten-up boots, clacking against the hardwood floor, you still looked beautiful to Ellie with red eyes and a puffy face from crying all night. "Watch this," Jesse murmured to the group before turning around and flagging you down. "Hey (y/n)!" He smiled brightly, his words catching your attention "Did you enjoy your birthday, yesterday?"

"Jesse, I know you heard me talking to Jasmine." You said and Ellie couldn't bear the disappointed look on your face. At that moment, the guilt hit her all at once. You had been the first kid her age that she warmed up to when she arrived in Jackson, trying your best to include her in everything. You invited her to hang out with your friends even though she didn't particularly get along with them, she went anyway because she just wanted to see you. On her birthday the previous year, you had scoped out an old comic store hours away just to bring her there for one day.

Jesse's smile fell and you had walked out the door before he had the chance to push a lie through his teeth. Last night's conversation echoed through Ellie's head over and over again, she cringed at the memory, god, why did she even say that?

Dina reached over the table and gave Ellie a harsh smack on the arm "Why did you even say that?!"

"Ow," She flinched, rubbing the spot that had been assaulted by Dina "What are you talking about?"

Dina looked at Ellie like she was just about ready to scream "What you said to her last night, what was going through your head?"

"Not much, apparently," Jesse answered for her, earning a death glare from the Auburn girl.

"I'll just apologize and it'll be water under the bridge," Ellie said, leaning back.

"That's not going to work," Dina replied quickly.

It, in fact, did not work. Ellie had shown up at the bakery where you promptly ignored her. "(y/n), I'm really sorry I forgot your birthday and said those things to you." Nothing Ellie said could get you to even look at her.

She had later stopped by your house, it was your dad who answered the door and Ellie sheepishly asked if you were home. He called for you to come down, the moment you saw Ellie, you shut the door in her face. There was no way she could defend herself, she couldn't say that she said those things because she had a bad day (even though she did), and that would just make her seem pathetic. She really wanted to say that she was scared of how much she liked you, she didn't want to ruin a good thing, you both had spent years playing the role of each other's best friend until Ellie started to distance herself from you and you ended up enwrapping yourself with work to distract yourself from the fact that she was drifting away.

Ellie didn't know what to do, if she didn't act fast, it would be too late and she was going to lose you.

♡

One week later

The sun was just beginning to set as you were already preparing to settle into bed and read a book, just about to change out of your floor-length sundress and into one of your dad's old shirts. However, your plans were interrupted when you heard your dad screaming downstairs, it was blood-curdling. You dropped everything, pulling your bedroom door open and rushing down the stairs, tripping on a step and stumbling before quickly regaining balance and moving with haste "Dad?" You called out, worry running through your head.

"SURPRISE!" People practically screeched, the volume so loud that you jolted back in fear. The chatter only grew as you looked around you and realized what was happening, this was your belated birthday party.

You were pulled in suddenly for a hug, squeezing you so tight you thought your eyes would pop out of your skull was Tommy "I'm so sorry, kiddo, I was being a real shithead on your birthday."

"It's okay," You choked out, nearly gasping for air. Much to your relief, he released you and you took a deep breath.

"Happy belated birthday!" Dina sang, placing a fat box in your arms. Many people followed after her, piling gifts on top of the initial one, you were quickly losing balance, so you stumbled into the living room and put the gifts onto the coffee table. There was so much life in the living room it was almost hard to believe that just a week before you had been crying alone, bathed in moonlight.

There were streamers strung throughout your house and odd dangly decorations that hung from the ceiling. Some balloons were taped to the walls while others bounced around the ground.

The lively hum of conversation, the clinking of glasses, and the melodic strains of birthday wishes filled the room as the party pulsated with energy. Colourful decorations adorned the walls, and the air was charged with the festive spirit.

You had the biggest smile on your face while everyone joked and jeered. Shoving their gifts into your face, trying to get you to open them first. It had made you forget about how awful your real birthday was, though you did try to dodge awkward apologies of people fumbling over their own words to make up excuses as to why they missed your real birthday.

"Happy birthday to you-" A voice began singing, and soon enough the entire crowd joined in, harmonizing into an off-key rendition of the birthday song. They made way for the person carrying the cake which had been none other than Ellie herself. The song ended off and Ellie placed the cake in front of you on the coffee table. "Make a wish."

You blew out all of the candles, and no punchable little girl around to steal your thunder, the room erupted into applause. The celebration continued with the living room becoming a dance floor, laughter echoing through the corridors, and conversations flowing freely. The cake itself reminded you of the embroidery your dad had done on your apron, it was sloppy and imperfect but you could tell it was made with love, the icing had been put on prematurely and had partially melted off the cake. It read 'Happy birthday' with 'Sorry for being a dick' written smaller beneath the first bit of text.

"Thank you, Ellie," You smiled softly up at her.

No one else was paying attention to you anymore, aside from those who wanted a slice of cake. Ellie nervously fumbled around with her hands "Do you want to dance?"

Ellie invited you to dance as the opening notes of the song floated through the air and she held out her hand. With a gentle smile, you accepted and you moved into the middle of the living room to form a makeshift dance floor. The soft aroma of fresh flowers blended with the scent of vanilla candles created an ambiance that enhanced the moment's sensory magic.

To the gentle beat of the song, your bodies moved in unison. Your hand settled comfortably on Ellie's shoulder, and her hand wrapped around your waist. Your bond transcended the material in the living room dance, an unspoken language of mutual feelings and unknown depths.

You both danced, recklessly, so much so that you were nearly a hazard for the swaying couples drifting around you, moving faster and not hurriedly as the tempo picked up. With each step, the living room's walls became silent witnesses to a romance that was developing on the plush carpet under their feet. The muted rustle of your clothing and the melodic notes of the music were all that could be heard to your ears.

The two of you took great pleasure in the dance's exuberance, laughing at the imperfect nature of it. In the noise of the living room, your eyes, locked in a dance of their own, spoke volumes. You were embraced by the dim lighting's vulnerability, which freed you from the burdens of the outside world to fully enjoy the moment.

Ellie guided you in a soft spin as the song went on, your moves were not fluid and elegant but Ellie could've sworn that looking into your eyes made it feel like there was liquid sunlight coursing through your veins

You and Ellie drew closer in the song's last moments, your bodies pressed together in an embrace that went beyond the material. As the last notes of the music faded, they held each other for an extra moment, relishing the warmth that they shared and the unspoken promises that danced between them. You wished that you could've stayed in Ellie's strong embrace for centuries.

You let go of Ellie, taking a step back with a smile, "Why didn't you tell me you were such a good dancer?" You tease, almost out of breath.

"I didn't know I was," She grinned, taking the sight of you in. Your cheeks were flushed and your hair had become messy, she thought you to be beautiful all the same, if not more. Her eyes raked over your body, your floor-length sundress and mismatched socks "And here I was thinking it was too late for sundresses."

"It's never too late, Ellie."

#ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #the last of us #slow burn #the last of us ellie #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams fluff #Ellie Williams X reader angst #angst #fluff #ellie x fem reader #mean!ellie #tlou #super slow burn

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chososchalupa · 7 months

Note

I LOVE UR BULLY MEGUMI X READER CAN I HAVE JEALOUS MEGUMI

Thank you sm <3 ! I wrote this super quickly so im so sorry if its not the best! I've had the worst writers block lately. Hope you like it!

Training / Megumi Fushiguro

No warnings, Megumi is jealous bc Toge exists basically. not proofread + wrote this when i was half asleep but i had the urge to write after not having any interest for like a week so here it is

WC - 595

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:

12:23

Seven minutes until class was over and you hadn’t heard from your boyfriend, Megumi, since 9:00 this morning.

✧.*

You had tried catching up with him after training was over but he had mumbled something about being busy and left. Your friends Toge and Maki watched as he gave you a small smile before turning and heading back toward the school.

“What was that about?” Maki asked as you walked back over to them

“Yeah, he’s usually attached to you after training?” Toge laughed, “Wonder if he’s going to check on Yuji, It’s not normal for him to miss training”

You nodded, it was unusual for Yuji to miss training but you remembered him talking about a mission Gojo had assigned him for today. You racked your brain for reasons Megumi could be acting odd today. You met up for breakfast as usual and he was fine, the two of you walked onto the field and everything was fine. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

✧.*

“Still haven't heard from Megs?” Nobara asked as the two of you walked out of your classroom

“Nothing. He hasn't even responded to my tex-” you stopped mid-sentence when you saw the spiky haired boy walk into the cafeteria. You said a quick apology to Nobara and ran towards Megumi.

“Megs! Wait up!” you called as you caught up to him, “What is your deal today? You haven't talked to me at all since training this morning”

“I’m fine” he responded, not looking up from his phone as he continued walking

“Did I do something wrong?” you asked

Megumi took a quick glance at you before responding with a simple, “No.”

You sighed in defeat, choosing to continue walking in silence beside him.

The two of you sat at a table alone, not speaking until Toge, Maki and Nobara sat down with you.

You noticed the quick glare Megumi threw towards Toge and then it hit you, the mornings training was different. You were usually paired with Nobara but since she skipped, Gojo had decided to pair you up with Toge and Megumi with Maki. You didn’t see the change as a big deal but Megumi must have felt otherwise.

You made small talk with your group of friends before excusing yourself and grabbing Megumi by the arm, forcing him to follow you out of the cafeteria.

“Is this about me being paired with Toge this morning? You know I didn't choose to be partners with him!” You crossed your arms as you looked up at Megumi.

He sighed before nodding, “I know, it's stupid. You just looked like you were having a lot of fun training with him. You guys spent more time joking around than you did actually training.”

You rolled your eyes before wrapping your arms around his waist, “So you’re saying you're jealous?”

Megumi returned the favor by wrapping his arms around you, “Shut up” he mumbled, kissing the top of your head.

“You have nothing to worry about, Megumi. Toge is a great friend but I love you and only you. Nobody could ever compare, especially not Inumaki” you giggled

Megumi pulled away after giving your head one last kiss, “I love you. I’m sorry for getting jealous, maybe I could make it up to you?”

You giggled at his question, “And how would you do that?”

“Let’s skip the rest of classes today and watch movies and cuddle in my room?”

You smiled brightly up at the dark haired boy before grabbing his hand, “What are we waiting for then? Let’s go!”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #megumi fushiguro #inumaki toge #megumi x reader #toge x reader #nobara kugisaki #maki zenin #jjk x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #jjk megumi #jjk fluff #megumi fluff

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bardic-tales · 2 months

Text

Tumblr Game: Heads Up. Seven Up.

Thank you so much for the tag, @oh-no-another-idea. I really enjoy the dialogue in your snippet.

Rules: Share the last 7 sentences you wrote.

This is from an upcoming short story that I am writing, featuring my Bianca Moore, my Nephilim character, and the Cult that is chasing her. My passion project is a huge dark fantasy that spans original and fandom content.

This is the first introduction of Bianca. I've been out of practice since I haven't really wrote anything worthwhile since last November. But I always believed that writing is like riding a bike. Your talent is always there. Just need to dust it off.

The sun sat low in the sky, as bands of oranges and reds blazed across the Heavens. A white mist slowly rolled over the hills and down into the valley, reaching out to the cars, houses, and trees like skeletal fingers seeking to squeeze the life out of the sleepy surroundings. Ever seeking the Destroyer of the Multiverse — or whatever that meant.

Bianca Moore sat in the middle of her bed and watched the scrambled lines on the blocked premium cable station, squinting to see the movie. She wanted to cover up with the itchy, beige wool blanket that was so thin that she shivered each chilly night, but the stains upon the thin material gave her pause. Who knew what caused the splotches of red and white?

From the tender age of ten, Bianca knew motels like this were not known for their stellar cleanliness.

Open Tag and Tag List (no pressure and soft tagging)

@writingpotato07 @worldstogetlostin @garthcelyn @wordsformysoul @thecorneroftheweirdone @eleanorawritesfantasy @cbolandwrites @rungojira @that-bi-chick-kaya @faelanvance @dogmomwrites @jjm-blogspot @justwriteyoudummy @violetcancerian @dragonthusiast @korblez @deadblvcknerd @aether-wasteland-s @captain-kraken

@residentdormouse @arrthurpendragon @arrthurpendragon @prehistoric-creatures @serenofroses

@megandaisy9 @asirensrage

@creativechaosqueen

#tumblr games #originals #original stories #original writing #writers on Tumblr #original works #writeblr originals #writeblr #wip: untitled #oc: bianca moore - original #fantasy worlds collide #fwc #fwc: original #fwc: snippet #bardic tales #bardic-tales

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twiceinadream · 2 years

Text

“Baby it’s cold outside.”

Requested: Nope

Prompt: Mina goes to S/O’s apartment but when it’s time to leave there is an announcement saying the roads are shut down due to the blizzard. So naturally they find a way to keep warm.

a/u: Long time no see, everyone! I’m so sorry I haven’t posted for the past few months but there’s just been so much happening in my life at the moment. It’s been awhile since I last wrote a serious piece for here so please bear with me as I get back into the swing of things. I hope you all enjoy my 3rd annual: Mina Christmas Prompt. Thank you all so much for 3.9k+ followers and for all the continued love and support. I love you guys!

Word Count: 1.4k

Category: NSFW and Fluff

Music played softly from your speakers as a newly decorated Christmas tree stood proudly in the corner of your living room as flurries of snow fell outside your window. However, the inside of your apartment was comfortably warm as you and Mina cuddled on the couch. A mug of cocoa in your guy’s hands as your girlfriend sat in between your legs, a blanket thrown over your legs as she buried her cold feet into the crook of your knee.

You tried your best to keep a straight face as she tried to thaw the ice blocks she called feet in your warmth. You made a mental note to buy her some warm socks for Christmas this year. Your chin rested on her shoulder as she read the book the two of you started together before a yawn cut off Mina’s elegant voice in the middle of her sentence. You couldn’t help but smile a little at how she looked when she was sleepy, you gingerly set your mug down on the coffee table beside you before taking Mina’s gently from her and placing it beside yours. You placed a soft kiss to your girlfriend’s cheek as you pulled her to lay back against you, her weight a comfortable presence above you as she nuzzled into your neck.

“Someone’s sleepy.” You teased softly as the Japanese woman turned so she was now on her stomach.

“Are you sleepy, Y/N-Chan?” Mina teased back as you shook your head with a light chuckle. Your girlfriend happened to glance at her watch when she sat up, “Aww, I’m sorry, Jagi. I have to go, the girls and I have a schedule tomorrow.”

You tried to not let her see your face drop. You knew how important her group and her fans were, and don’t get it wrong, you were her number one fan and the biggest support for her and the rest of girls - they came as a package deal after all. “Is it time already? I guess time flies when you’re having fun.”

Mina could see through you in an instant as she gently cupped your chin, “I know, I’m sorry I couldn’t stay longer, baby. We have a break coming up soon, then I’ll be all yours.” Your girlfriend brought you into a soft kiss as your arms snaked around her hips as hers wrapped around your neck. Neither of you wanted to part for air but you both eventually pulled away as your foreheads rested against each other’s, your breaths lingered between you when both your phones suddenly alarmed.

You both pulled away as you fished your phone out of your pocket as you read the alert that had just come out:

EMERGENCY ALERT

Blizzard Warning this area until further notice. Prepare. Avoid travel. Check media - NWS

You could barely contain the grin that was threatening to break out onto your lips, huffing out a laugh as you pulled your girlfriend back into your embrace, “I guess miracles really do exist.”

Mina rolled her eyes in amusement as she fought your hold, “I will not stand to be held captive!”

You quirked a brow before realization dawned on you, “Well get used to it, Minari. Looks like you're stranded here.”

The Japanese woman sighed dramatically, “What do you think my chances of making it back on my own?”

You chuckled as you listened to the song that was playing over your speakers, “Slim to none. Baby it’s cold outside.”

You and Mina held each other’s gaze for a second before bursting into laughter, “Wow, that was pretty corny, Y/N-ah.”

You shrugged as Mina took her place on the couch once again, but before she could get comfortable you pushed her onto her back and climbed above her, “You think so? Cause I had a whole plan of how I was gonna keep you warm. But if you think it was too corny, maybe I’ll…”

“No!” You held back an amused smirk as Mina blushed at her outburst, “I mean, please continue. I won’t try stopping whatever you have planned.”

You laughed lightly as you placed kisses along the edge of her jaw, “That’s what I thought.”

—

Mina’s bare chest heaved as you placed soft kisses up and down her inner thigh, teasing where her thigh met her pubic bone then back down. You could see her wetness glittering along her petalled folds as you continued to purposefully ignore it. Reveling in the frustrated groans above your head as your girlfriend squirmed under your lips, “Need something Minari?”

The Japanese woman glared at you as her fingernails dug into the couch cushions as a conflicted moan slipped out, “Please touch me.”

You raised an eyebrow, “I already am.”

She groaned loudly, “That’s not what I meant. Y’know that Y/N-ah.”

You smiled evilly as you stopped kissing her thighs to stare into her eyes, “I’m sorry. I think you’ll need to be more specific.”

Mina’s mouth fell open slightly as she closed her eyes, her head fell back against the arm rest as she spoke. Embarrassment was clear in her voice, “Pl..please touch my…pu..ah!” You took the opportunity to blow a cool stream of air directly onto her swollen folds as her legs jerked beside your head, “Please touch my pussy!”

A very satisfied smile spread onto your face as you let your tongue out to wet your lips, “Why didn’t you just say so, Minari.”

“Because I was…oh!” You cut your girlfriend off once again as you licked a line straight from her entrance to her clit as you flicked the bundle of nerves with the top of your tongue.

Mina’s fingers dig harder into the couch as her hips bucked slightly, you quickly looped your arms around her thighs to keep her from squirming too much as you continued your work between her legs. Your tongue continued lapping up her essence as you drank in the mix of sweet and slightly sour, humming to yourself as her juices continued to greet your tongue. You circled her entrance briefly before pushing the tip of your tongue inside, teasing her just a little bit longer before you pushed in further. You eagerly drank in the nectar spilling onto your palate as you bobbed your head into a rhythm.

Sensing that your girlfriend needed more, you reluctantly pulled away to both of your displeasure before you quickly moved up and captured her clit between your lips. The sensation felt like fire to Mina’s nerves as she moaned out loud frantically grasping for your free hand as she interlocked your guy’s fingers. You sucked the bundle into your mouth as your other hand trailed down to her entrance and you slowly slid a finger inside. You were met with next to no-resistance as your finger glided smoothly into her clenching passage, you gave a few more thrusts before adding a second then a third. Your girlfriend loved to feel the stretch as you pumped even harder into her, curling your fingers up to the rough, spongy spot that made her see stars.

Your usually quiet and conservative girlfriend became a moaning and screaming mess under you as you continued to lavish her in an onslaught of pleasure. Your arm was starting to burn and your jaw ached but there was no way you were gonna stop until she was satisfied. The bottom of your chin was wet with her arousal as you sucked harder, your finger drilling into her as her thighs clenched. Your head had become sandwiched between her powerful legs and you figured if this was how you went out, you would die happy. But you were pulled out of your reverie as Mina’s walls clenched down on your fingers then began pulsing as you continued thrusting.

A scream of ecstasy left your usually quiet girlfriend as she was thrown headlong into one of the most intense orgasms she’d ever experienced. As you continued thrusting your hand, a stream or three of her arousal shot out, surprising you as it wet your arm and face. Gradually you lessened your movements as you helped Mina ride out the rest of her release before pulling out. Your tongue quickly cleaned her up, careful to avoid her swollen clit when you felt the Japanese woman pull your hand, the one that had been inside her, to her lips as she cleaned her own juices off your finger.

A spike of arousal quickly filled your lower belly as you felt even hornier than you had been a second ago. A predatory smirk overtook your girlfriend’s beautiful features as mischief glinted in her eyes, “I think it’s my turn to give you a little surprise. Don’t you think so, Y/N-ah?”

You nodded dumbly as you refused to look away, “Yes, ma’am.”

Mina pulled you up into a kiss, her arousal on both of your tongues as she pulled you flush against her, “Good, I thought so too.”

#fortwice #twice #twice prompt #twice one shot #twice imagines #twice smut #twice fluff #myoui mina #twice mina #myoui mina x reader #i love you guys #twiceinadream

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solarishashernoseinabook · 7 months

Note

Yk, I was going to ask this in the comments, but then I thought, why not a nifty little ask?

Do you actually write all your stories by hand? And how does it work? Cuz personally I am always put off by the fact I like, don't write fast enough to be able to keep up with the sentences forming in my head, yk. And do you then retype the chapter after you've handwritten it? Genuinely curious as to why/if/.. you prefer doing it this way

I'm glad you asked! And I'm glad you asked as an ask, because this would be a weee bit long to go in a tumblr comment 😅

I handwrite most of my fics, yeah! Tho it's more of a hybrid model instead of strictly handwriting, then typing. I bounce between handwriting and typing based on if I'm having writer's block or not. If I get stuck when typing up a chapter, I save what I have, close down my computer, and pick up a notebook and start writing from the last point I remember. Not being able to refer back to what I've written previously means I'm not stuck agonising over it, and allows me to write more freely than if I was constantly going back to earlier paragraphs. If I get stuck when handwriting, I boot up my computer again and transcribe everything. Y'know that bit of writing advice that's like "if you have writer's block, your problem is actually half a page back"? Yeah, that's why I transcribe! The process of rereading my earlier writing lets me identify what's not working and how to fix it.

TRR2 is actually the first fic where the majority of it has been handwritten beforehand, because Angel bought me a gorgeous notebook to write it in (and he got me a second to continue with!). A good portion of every chapter so far has been handwritten, and some chapters were entirely handwritten before I transcribed them :D

Further reasons I like handwriting include...

...no longer worrying so much about making it "perfect", and letting a first draft just be a first draft Sometimes in the middle of writing a scene I'll realise it works better in another character's POV, or in another setting, or any number of things. Instead of going back and changing it, I make a note saying what the change is and then keep writing as though I've already made the change. That way it doesn't break up the flow of writing and I can continue on a roll! Similarly, if a line is wonky or weird, but I can't immediately think of a better one, I just write down the wonky line and continue. Without the ability to erase what I just wrote, I don't get bogged down making every line perfect, and usually when I go to transcribe it later I have a better idea of what to write

...it helps me be more considerate of my words Wait, isn't this a direct contradiction of what I just said? Let's pretend it isn't I also write slower than I type, which I find is a bonus! My brain keeps working on the words and scene while I write, and they can often end up more refined than if I was typing everything because I had more time to turn the words over in my brain. There's also just something about handwriting things that helps my brain remember them more

...it's way more versatile I can't type on phones - it's actively very uncomfortable for me (small hands yaaay). Unfortunately, this means if I'm not at a computer, typing anything more than a couple of sentences is a no-go. Notebooks are easy to carry, don't require an external power source, and I can easily curl up with them to write in the car, in bed, or outside (bonus: it's MUCH easier to see a notebook in direct sunlight than it is to try and make out words on a screen). It also means I can write at work without worrying about keystrokes being logged, people seeing what's on my screen, forgetting a USB, or - disaster of disasters - computers crashing and erasing my data

...purely autistic/aesthetic reasons :D Writing is a huge physical stim for me. Typing can be too depending on the keyboard I'm using, but writing with a pen on paper is remarkably calming in a way that very little else is. Also, notebooks pretty ❤

thanks for dealing with all that (and also giving me an excuse to ramble on for way too long :D)!

#asks #my writing

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mushiewrites · 1 year

Text

Roped In

halfway through lee!George week! I'm so excited with all the lil fics and ficlets and drabbles I've seen so far 🥺 I wrote this completely out of nowhere last night into today and I kind of love it??? I hope you enjoy! (shout out to @cayjno for basically writing the ending sentence bc I Could Not think 😇)

day 4 - a challenge / prompts found here!

(lee!George / ler!Dream / ler!Sapnap : 2.6K words)

“This is seriously all I have to do…?” George asked hesitantly, looking around while allowing Dream to adjust the leash to the birch tree branch above him. Sapnap yanked at the rope once the blonde took a step back, smiling with satisfaction when it didn’t budge an inch.

George stood almost on his tip toes, his right arm stretched above his head with his wrist attached to the short leash while his left arm crossed over his chest, hand curling around his upper ribs in order to have some kind of protection from the vulnerable position he was placed into.

“That’s it! Just stay like this for ten minutes and you win!” Dream nodded his head in confirmation, taking a step back and admiring the tie he used to keep the smaller boy in place. He too reached forward to pull on the rope, just to double check that George wasn’t going to escape any time soon.

The three were standing in a clearing of a mixed wood forest, surrounded by a handful of birch, oak, and dark oak trees. There was a slight breeze that passed every so often through the openings between the trees, causing goosebumps to rise along George’s skin, watching as they appeared quickly on the exposed arms. Though the sun was high in the sky, the trees created a blanket of shade, blocking the comforting heat from the sun’s rays from warming him up. He shivered slightly as he watched Sapnap let go of the rope, taking a step back to stand in line with Dream a few feet away.

“Win what though? This is dumb!” The elder watched as the two younger boy’s exchanged glances, small smiles plastered on their faces as they turned their attention back to him.

“Bragging rights?” Sapnap shrugged, giggling when Dream snorted at the reply. George rolled his eyes at that, adjusting his footing to stand more comfortably as he ran a hand through his hair with an exaggerated sigh.

“Bragging rights?! This is so stupid!”

“Okay, how about…Sapnap and I will do whatever you want for the rest of the day?” Dream squeaked when the youngest brunette elbowed him in the ribs at the suggestion, clearly not happy with the compromise but keeping his mouth shut anyway.

“...Fine. But, why do I have to be tied? Can’t I just hold my own arm up? You can just untie me, I’ll stay here!”

“No can do, Georgie! Besides, I don’t think you’d be able to keep your arm how we want it.” Dream stretched an arm out to poke at George’s very exposed right side, causing the elder to yelp and jump back as far as he could away from the offending hand. His eyes grew wide as he slowly understood the real reason for the challenge, quickly shaking his head and holding out his free arm in front of him.

“No! Noho no no, absolutely not. You’re nohohot doing this!” He felt the warmth from his cheeks spread to the tip of his nose as Dream and Sapnap began to giggle at the boy’s sudden realization, watching in horror as they both pulled out a vial of purple liquid from their pockets.

“Like we said, if you can last for ten minutes, then you win!” Sapnap reminded him, throwing a playful smirk at Dream before downing the contents of the bottle in his hand. A few seconds later, the youngest boy was nowhere to be seen. George felt his stomach drop as he realized the two had invisibility potions, only further confirming what the two had in store for him.

“How do I even lose?!” George questioned, switching his attention to the only one he could see.

“You block your spots with your free hand.” He spoke simply, as if it was the easiest task for George to complete in the world.

“D-Dream, come on. You can’t dohoho this!” George looked at Dream with his best puppy dog eyes, hoping to melt the blonde before he too drank the potion and temporarily disappeared. However, the attempt was useless, and Dream flashed him a bright smile before following in Sapnap’s footsteps and downing the potion in seconds.

“Nohoho! Come ohohon!” The older boy whined with a panicked giggle as he watched Dream wave to him before disappearing completely, making him twist and thrash and pull on the rope as much as he could. But much to his dismay, he wasn’t going anywhere.

George stood with his eyes squeezed shut and body tensed with anticipation, nervous giggles flying out of him every few seconds when he so much as felt the breeze of the wind. Everything had him on edge, and though at least two or three minutes had passed, nothing had happened. He was starting to believe the two had actually just played a prank on him and left when he felt a light jab on the left side of his neck, making him shriek and bring his shoulder up to cover the sensitive area.

“Stohohop!” George jumped away from the touch, only to jump right into a pair of waiting hands, feeling them dig into the ribs on his right side. He screamed out, leaning to the left, and finding himself in the same exact situation - waiting hands squeezed up and down the left of his torso, digging into his most sensitive ribs with precision. “Nohoho plehehease! This isn’t fahahair!”

“I think it’s plenty fair, actually.” Sapnap’s voice came from the right, feeling the fingers walk up under his arm and making him shoot his free hand to cover the spot. It was stopped by who he assumed was Dream, grabbing his left wrist and holding it up in the air as he too joined in on the assault on his very sensitive underarms.

“NAHAHAHA NO! NOHOHOT THEHEHERE NOT THERE!” George was screaming now, his laughter coming out high pitched and raspy, almost similar to Sapnap’s when he was held down and tickled silly. George was jumping in place, trying to move any way he could to escape the tickling hands but failing. No matter where he twisted, turned or stepped, the invisible hands never left his most ticklish spots.

“Not here? Not on your tickly little underarms, Georgie?” He felt Dream’s words pressed up against the shell of his ear, feeling the stubble tickle the sensitive skin there and falling into another fit of giggles. Sapnap had abandoned his place under George’s right arm to tickle along his tricep, making George yank hard at the rope and fight Dream’s grip on his left arm.

“S-SAHAHA- SAHAPNAP!” The brunette could feel tears pooling at the corner of his eyes as he continued to laugh and squirm between his two best friends. Dream moved his hand from under George’s arm down to his lower tummy, letting his hand slip under his shirt to trace his nails along the warm skin there. Sapnap continued to tickle over George’s triceps, now using a hand on each tricep with the help of Dream still holding his left arm in the air.

“THIHIS IS CHEHEHEATING!” George squealed out as Dream’s hand wandered down over his left hip bone, squeezing and digging into the dip there with his thumb like his life depended on it. George opened his eyes for the first time to blink away the tears that were welling up, expecting to see four hands torturing the life out of him but finding only bright green grass and hundreds of trees surrounding him.

“Alright, you have a point there, baby boy. Dream, drop his hand.” Sapnap was the one to speak, surprising George at the sudden kindness the younger boy was showing him. He took in a deep gasp of air as the two let up, Dream listening and letting go of George’s left hand. The two continued to giggle as they watched George frantically rub at the spots over his body that they had just tormented, trying desperately to rub away the ghost tickles through his wild laughter.

“Sohoho cruel!” George whined, feeling his face heat up before abandoning his attempts at getting rid of the tingles and opting to cover his face instead.

“We still have a minute left, kitten, you think you can do it?” Dream’s voice came from the left but lower than before, seemingly closer to the ground rather than towering over him like usual. The thought was quickly disbursed before he could think too much of it, hearing Sapnap chime in as well.

“Or do you wanna give up? Hm?”

“No! Nohoho way, I just gohohot tortured for like, nine minutes or whatever! Just…keep gohohoing! I’m winning thihis!”

He heard quiet giggles from the two boys, Sapnap’s voice now also sounding closer to the ground than before but not putting together what exactly was going on. All was revealed soon enough though, and he suddenly felt four hands digging into his overly sensitive thighs, ripping a scream from his throat before falling into hysterics.

“FUHUHUCK! N-NAHAHAHA PL-PLEHEHE-”

“Geez, Georgie, I always forget how bad your thighs are.” He barely heard Sapnap’s comment through his own laughter, highly aware that anyone within a hundred mile radius could probably hear his cackles with how loud they were.

“I know, truly one of the best spots on him. Right, baby?”

“STAHAHAHAP!”

To his surprise, the two did stop, changing their squeezing fingers into calming rubs with their palms on his thighs to help calm the ticklish electricity he was still feeling. George felt a hand wrap around his waist and recognized it as Dream’s, softly holding him up as he had gone limp just moments before due to the intensity of the tickling. Sapnap continued to rub the tingles out of his thighs while Dream worked on untying George’s wrist, still holding him up and speaking quietly about how great he had done handling the tickles.

His eyes were still closed when he heard the clinking of glass, cracking an eye open slowly to see the two boys slowly reappearing, seeming to have consumed a potion to wear off the invisibility potion quicker than it normally would have lasted. George stretched his arms out as he rubbed his own hand around his right wrist, feeling the rope marks on his skin and feeling his cheeks grow hotter at the memories from minutes ago.

“How are you doing, George?” Dream was the first to speak, gaining the attention from the elder and watching as he looked up at him with a dazed look on his face, clearly still recovering from the tickles. “Did we go too far?”

“Noho, but you’re both idiots.” George spoke quietly, fighting the smile that was quickly forming on his face but failing miserably. The three broke out into giggles at the ridiculousness of the situation, the younger two laughing harder when George leaned forward and shoved both of them hard in the shoulder, making them both stumble back slightly.

George’s giggles quickly turned to something sinister when his gaze landed on the rope in Dream’s hand, tapping it to get the other two to look at it and raising his eyebrows to signal what he wanted. He suddenly had a clear plan of what he wanted out of his end of the deal.

Sapnap looked up at Dream in confusion before staring down at the rope in the blonde’s hand, noticing that Dream’s face had turned a light shade of pink while he too stared at the object in his grasp.

“Well, go on then.” The two looked up at the elder as he spoke, both giving different reactions to the statement. Dream was biting his lip and visibly shifting his weight between his legs while Sapnap furrowed his brows together at the command from George.

“Go on what?!” Sapnap spat out, his scowl only growing as George began to laugh at the expressions of the two boys standing before him.

“You said you two have to do whatever I want if I win. And I did!” George smirked, taking a few steps forward and grabbing an end of the rope that was dangling from Dream’s hands, lifting it to slowly brush along the blonde’s chin to make him squeal and flinch back. “So, this is what I want. Get to tying, would you, Dreamie?”

“Wh-“

“NO?!”

The two let out protests of confusion and terror, only sending George further into his laughing fit.

“I’d do what I was told if I were you, Dream.” George leaned forward and stood on his tip toes, mumbling against Dream’s ear and making him giggle out a high pitched squeak. The brunette took a step back and watched as Dream slowly turned towards Sapnap, mumbling a tiny “I’m sorry, Sap!” before grabbing onto his wrist and pulling him to his chest.

“Good boy, Dreamie.” The elder commented, stepping forward and running his fingers through the blonde waves before taking the rope from Dream’s free hand and beginning to tie Sapnap’s wrists together with it. Dream let out a quiet whine and allowed his eyes to shut at the motion, feeling butterflies rising in his tummy as his cheeks grew an even brighter pink at the praise.

“H-Hehehey! We didn’t tie both of your wrists, we only tied one!” Sapnap cried out in panic, trying but failing to pull his arms from Dream and George’s hold. George just giggled at the complaint, shrugging his shoulders as he pulled the knot tight, making sure Sapnap was truly trapped in the ties.

“Okay, and? You both agreed to do whatever I want. And I decided I want both wrists tied. Sorry, Sappy!” George moved his right hand from Sapnap’s wrist to ruffle his hair, similar to how he had pet Dream just moments ago but getting an angered reaction instead of a melty one.

“But I- MMM?!” Sapnap was ready to let out another round of complaints when he felt a small hand slap over his mouth, stopping the words and making him growl instead at George’s quick thinking.

“Dream, you know what to do.” Though the sentence was aimed at Dream, George didn’t break eye contact with the squirmy boy in Dream’s arms, giggling when Sapnap squealed as Dream raised his arms as high as they would go. Sapnap looked down at the ground, seeing himself teetering on his tiptoes, just as they’d made George do earlier in their little challenge. His gaze met George’s once again, eyes widening when the Brit held up his free hand and menacingly wiggled his fingers in front of his face.

“Any last words?” George giggled, removing the hand from over Sapnap’s lips and laughing harder when he immediately growled in response.

“Fuck you!”

“Wrong answer.” George stated simply, smirking at the smaller boy before reaching forward and digging into Sapnap’s upper ribs.

Sapnap’s raspy laughter bounced off the trees as George tickled him silly, not stopping until the younger boy apologized for everything and anything George saw fit. He complained, thrashed and fought as much as he could, but his strength was nothing against the devastatingly ticklish attack his two best friends made him endure. And considering the fact that Sapnap had a lot to answer for, he had to endure the torture for much longer than he anticipated.

It was only after he collapsed in Dream’s arms, giggling breathlessly and apologizing over and over again (for what, he wasn’t sure anymore) that the two finally showed him mercy.

#lee!george #ler!dream #ler!sapnap #invisibility potion ooooooooooo #i love this trope sm #mushies lee!george week #mushie fics #mcyt tickle #my stuff

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elejah-wonderland · 9 months

Text

_elejah au

Love is in the Air

_a tvd fanfic_Part 2

a/n: I am already in Valentine's Day mood...hence this story...lol

Hope you'll enjoy it.

It's a light-hearted love story.

xoxo

Like clockwork, Elena was up at six and showered quickly, underwent her morning beauty regime, and packed most of her casual clothing. She then looked at the book and picking it up from the night stand. "All right, Elijah Mikaelson or Smith, whatever you like to call yourself nowadays. Hope you can write as good as you can dance."

She then whipped the book in the suitcase. Though they had met just this once so many years ago in Mystic Falls, this man left a mark, though she had only met him for the day.

She now took her phone and called Jo.

"Yes, I am at cafe acriss road. I thought you'd sleep a bit linger" Jo said as she picked up the call.

"I just want to get out of here. Ok. I will see you in five." Elena said before she hung up.

She now picked up her bag, slipping her phone in and looked around to check once more if she had everything.

"Ok. I think that's it." the brunette muttered to herself and then rolling her suitcase behind her, she got out.

In New York, Elijah finished getting dressed and walked out of his apartment rolling his suitcase behind him. In the taxi cab to J. F. K Airport, he fumbled with his phone, opening Elena's instagram. He looked at her picture she had posted about the last day of her movie shoot. He looked at her photo, transfixed, his mind travelling back to the night after his sister's college designer debu night.

Flashback

"Dance?" - Elijah said as he came up to Elena, who had just waved bye to her friend Caroline, scampering away with her boyfriend.

"What?" Elena looked surprised at this question without innuendos.

"Would you like to dance? Unless you don't dance - well, can I buy you a drink? I feel that this morning I intruded on you -"

"Yes, I'd like to dance" Elena now cut in mid-sentence.

The band played the Kings of Leon's 'Closer' as Elijah's hand slid around the brunettes back, taking her hand in his, smoothly sway and turn to the rhythm of the song. He found himself lost in a gaze as their eyes met. Elijah smiled at Elena, who smiled shyly at him. Rhythm of their bodies danced slowly with the music. He twirled her around, dipping her as he had lean forward closer to her at one moment. Staring at the beauty before him, his breathing became shallow and his heart had suddenly felt vivacious inside his chest.

Stranded in this spooky town

Stoplight is swaying and the phone lines are down

Floor is crackling cold

She took my heart, I think she took my soul

With the moon I run

Far from the carnage of the fiery sun

...

Over the years, every time he had heard this song, he remembered that one moment. Like the song said it felt like this woman took his heart and his soul, as that same heart of his was like a ghost ever since that evening.

Elijah swiped the phone closed. He took a note book out, and wrote a few notes for his new book.

Flashback

Two years back

"Who is Angel really?" Camille, Elijah's editor asked as she sat down on her desk chair.

"No one particular. I've just invented a character." Elijah fibbed. He knew all too well, who the heroine was.

"The book is amazing and it is going to print immediately. This will be a smash. It has everything, suspense, mystery, erotica. I am amazed that you have not thought of historical genre before." the blonde said.

"I thought that everyone is into murder mysteries." Elijah said.

"Well, your series of CSI detective Ross, was gripping, but this one will make it into a block-buster."

"All right. If you say so."- Elijah said and continued-"Is there anything else you need."

"I will talk to Gia about the whole promotion thing - well, you know it all"

"Yeah." Elijah nodded and got up.

"Erm- I just wanted to say sorry about your divorce."

"Thank you- but - it's not a big deal - Hayley and I had already separated - just didn't post it on any of tge social media." Elijah said.

"I know - but I thought that maybe you will get back together." Camille said.

"No. We've actually never really been compatible - it just took me a long time to realize that." Elijah said and turned the subject around to ask about if he would have a meeting with Gia.

"I'll call you when I speak to her." Camille said.

In Florence, Italy

"A fiat 500" Elena said as Jo now handed her the key cars over.

"You're apartment is in the old part of Rome, and the roads are quite narrow, and trust me you will be grateful to have such a small car."

"Oh - I love it. It's perfect. I want the ultimate Italian experience. Thank you." Elena said smiling."I hope it's red"

"It's a red one - yes. I don't know why the rented car always has to be red"

"It's to do with ladybugs - and good luck," Elena explained, and now sipped down the rest of her cappuccino,"ok- I am so ready. Can I ask you one last favour?"

"What?"

"A week without any phone calls and - about this new movie - I'd like to put money in it " Elena said.

"You want to co-produce it?" Jo said a tad bit surprised.

"I read the reviews and - the prologue - I have a feeling this will be huge."

"You got it. Right. Have a great time- and I hope you really enjoy yourself. And don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Elena raised and eyebrow at her friend as to say Please- do I ever do anything that is crazy?! And Jo nodded a little with a chuckle. The two women now hugged and Elena went away.

Though she had travelled extensive through Europe, visiting France and Paris numerous times, as well as Spain, and Portugal, the Netherlands, Belgium, Denmark, Iceland, Greece, also North Italy, somehow she had never had the time or moment to go to the eternal city. And since her college days in Mystic Falls, she was forever pumped up to go to the heart of the most romantic places on the planet. There was one more thing that had a particular reason she wanted to see it. Being a huge fan of vintage movies, she admired the most divine actresses the big screen had ever seen. It was Audrey Hepburn. She had even played Holly Golightly on London's West End.

Three hours later, after a steady drive down from Florence, she arrived. Already, as she drove in, the whole feel of the busy city, it's ancient vibe, made her feel like she entered a world where old met new. Unlike any other places, this one gave her a jolt of adrenaline in the tired and somewhat weary soul of hers.

Flashback

A year ago

Paris, France

"Here is to me - lucky in everything but love." Elena said and sipped down the champagne.

"Oh, come on, 'Lena" Caroline said, "Kaleb is the one - you should just so go for it. I mean he is the sweetest."

"Yes, he is sweet and lovely - but -huh- I don't feel - you know the fire - like I did with Elijah Oh, God - and we have just danced- we didn't even kiss"

"You are forever thinking of p 'EM dance thing' - God, Lena that was a thousand years ago -will you forever compare all the guys to something that never happened." Caroline shook her head.

"I need more Champagne" Elena said and waved to the waiter to bring her another glass.

"You have this dream-like thing in your head about this - and you have to stop it."

"Says you, who talks nothing about how love is fire and walking on clouds." Elena reminded her friend about her own views about love, romance and couples.

"Touché," Caroline now said,"but, seriously, Lena - you had this one dance- he left and he most probably never thought twice about it. Have you forgotten that Rebekah told me that he got married a year later."

"Yes. I didn't say that I pine after him or think what if - I am just saying that - Oh, God - I am actually thinking what if, aren't I?" Elena sighed, her eyes shining as if she finally had an epiphany.

"Yep. What if - Rebekah didn't pull him away, and what if - the next day you were not offered the role that kick started your whole career- and you jetted off to L.A. - what if - what if - but you can't live with what ifs." Caroline said.

"I know. Ok. Today is the day that I will officially forget the 'EM dance thing'" Elena said, but her heart fibbed.

Now, she walked into the apartment on the last floor. It was a cute, quaint little apartment. It was exactly what she wanted. She put her case down and went out on the little terrace, her gaze smiling at the sun dancing on the rooftops of the bustling city. Refreshing herself a bit, a minute later, she was out, and lost herself in the cobble-stoned labyrinth.

Meanwhile in Stefan Salvatore's Apartment

Elijah's phone rang and he picked it up from the nightstand, "Hello"

"Hey," Stefan said,"sorry - you're still asleep?"

"Hey- ah, I am- well - so jet-legged- and I worked when I got here - already got two chapters down," Elijah replied rubbing his eyes,"what time is it?"

"8 p.m." Stefan said, adding,"go back to sleep. We can talk tomorrow."

"No. Need to get up. Anyway - all is good. How are you?"

"We are fine. Damon says hi. If you have time pop to Amsterdam one weekend, you are more than welcome" Stefan said.

"Yeah- I'll do that. Thank you so much for this. It's not that I could not afford an apartment, but -"

"I know, you wanted a home-like feel, and I told you that it's not a problem. We are best friends - and stop thanking me. Ok. I got to go. Talk in a couple of days - a friend of mine, Stella has managed to get you to the Roman Historical Institution, to the archives that are closed to the public. She will give you a call."

"OMG- thank you." Elijah moved to the terrace.

"Hey- seriously, you don't need to thank me" Stefan said.

"Right. Say hi to everyone and we'll talk later. I need a pizza and a good glass of red."

"Down the street in Campo di Fiore, there is a great old-new bar, I can recommend. I don't know if you remember it - it had that Audrey Hepburn poster on the wall" Stefan reminded his friend.

"Yes, I do. Why do you say new bar?"

"The old guy died and his son redesigned it a bit, but it is still the same place, food is still good and the wine is even better." Stefan explained.

"I will definitely check it out."

And with that their conversation ended, both hanging up.

Elijah showered and changed. As he said, he was ready for something to eat, and he made his way down to the bar, he and Stefan hung out so often when he came to visit right after his separation, two years back.

The streets of the old part were bustling and though it had rained a tad bit, everything still looked so sparkly and inviting, with dancing cobbles under the feet, made Elijah feel like he was at home already, like there was an everlasting theatre on display as he walked through the labyrinth of the ancient streets.

And in his head he was writing out scenes for his book.

Plunging into the bar the next moment, with his imagination in full flow of the next chapter, his eyes, and his heart stopped still as they descended on Elena sitting by the large window.

_to be continued

#elejah #elena gilbert #elijah mikaelson #alternative universe #tvd imagines #elena and elijah #fanfiction #part 2 #love is in the air

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wolfsbanesbite · 6 months

Note

1 and 11 for the writer ask 😊❤️

1. Last sentence you wrote

Um.

That's awkward. I sadly barely write these days (fandom shift plus writers block 😕) I guess you can have a bit of my Simi 50 Shades au? Idk if I should publish it so it's been something I've jotted down now and again.

“Yeah it's easy. Just walk up and interview the richest guy in the city, absolutely easy.” Sebastian snorts, shaking his head.

“Hey if anyone can do it, it's you. You have a way with words. It must be all that Austen you're studying.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes. “Funny. Literature is not just all Austen.”

“Pretty sure it is. I did see that copy of Pride and Prejudice on your desk.” Jenson grins.

“That was a present from Fernando.” Sebastian’s cheeks go pink. It was no secret Fernando wanted to go out with Sebastian. It's just that Sebastian was slow on the uptake.

“Mmm honestly Seb just kiss him.” Jenson teases.

Sebastian just grabs the folder and shakes his head. “You're incorrigible. I'm going now.”

“Good luck!” Jenson calls out as Sebastian leaves the apartment.

2. WIP I want to finish.

I really want to finish the Pups au with @kyoukai-kanata !

#simi #sebastian vettel #kimi raikkonen #my fic

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heartshapedbubble · 2 years

Text

YOU GUYS WOULDN'T BELIEVE WHAT I JUST FINISHED⁉️⁉️

(jokes aside this chapter is heavy and when i say heavy i mean HEAVY it's the heaviest chapter ive wrote for now please read the tws and take care mwah)

childhood friends, a d.m. fanfic🐍// chapter 3

TW // descriptions and mentions of abuse, death, blood n gore (can get graphic so be careful), gender of reader not specified, sulphur hater community gonna go wild after this one, im inconsistent as fuck with the writing and the lore god save us, no proofreading we die like men, literally angst/trauma then fluff then i proceed to wreck incredible trauma upon desire, put your seatbelts on for the last part because oooh boy, teen desire angst mhm, desire needs therapy, me when i ignore the canon (sigma)

-------------------------------------------------------

A crumpled diary entry, the sides messily torn off and a lot of words aggressively scribbled over. The handwriting starts off neat and in a posh cursive, yet as the writing progresses, it turns to a manic, almost deranged shaky hand, a mix of unfinished sentences and unknown keywords, the paper wobbly and the ink blotchy due to the fact that it was sodden with the author's tears. The date is unreadable.

Today, it's my 17th birthday.

Today, it's also 6-years-and-something of my confinement inside the house. I stopped keeping serious track of time a while ago - I realized that thinking of it made me feel even worse than usual.

I still clearly remember the day when it all started. When i started descending into madness as all of my thoughts began to be blocked off one by one by hardcover books and the well-maintained white walls - I still harboured the fading pink scar on my palm. Yet, the worst scars were the ones on my psyche. They were like scabs - instead of forgetting what happened and letting myself heal, I did the exact opposite. I kept tearing apart the healed wound, reliving what I knew I should forget and what I can't fix. It fueled me, such bland and dull anger. I would scream, shout, dig my nails an inch deep into my skin upon the resurfacing memory, shunning my younger and my current self, while being fully aware I could never escape the situation nor now nor then. It's the worst kind of anger, the one that both riles you up and leaves your chest aching at the same time. It's not even the anger - it's the feeling of inevitable helplessness that you try so hard to hide. Beneath my thin veil of teenage angst and aggressive outbursts, I knew what i truly was. I saw the real me every night, hearing myself break down the second I locked myself in my room.

Even if he took my freedom, even if we had dinner together, even if I spent 10 hours a day studying thick textbooks that he spent thousands on, I could never see him as "dad". He never was one to begin with, so his countless attempts to make me consider him one were fruitless. I quickly forgot the burning feeling on my hand when he first hit me since he quickly resorted to physical violence as time went by. Cursed him under my breath as he passed by? You could bet his hand was tangled in my hair and my head was about to become one with the cupboard. Yelled back at him as we went for a walk together? His hand clenched my wrist with all its might and I felt like my bones could burst through my fingertips with each second he held it.

I looked out the window as I recalled. It was a sunny day, the beautiful flowers reaching over the fence from the neighbor's - their - garden. I opened the windows to soak up the sweet scent of lavender and lilac that the wind rolled over and waved around from side to side, north to south, east to west. As I savored the fresh fragrance, I caught a glimpse of my face in the surface of the glass. Two bright blue beads staring back at me and my uncombed hair framing my face. Nothing much has changed in my appearance, except my once chubby face thinning and sharpening with time and my shoulders growing wider. I was never lucky with my teeth, though - one of my canines grew over the incisors and made it look like a clumpy fang of sorts, as if I took a sucker punch to the jaw. It was a big insecurity of mine present even when I was a child and would spend hours in front of the mirror sometimes, making grimaces and running my tongue again and again over the bulging mass of teeth. I've kind of started ignoring it while growing up, but I can't say it's something I like about myself either.

After getting dressed, I headed towards my father's office. The hallway of our villa was long and quite plain for such a big, fancy house. Most gilded decorative motifs on the cupboards faded and a lot of paintings were removed, leaving behind rectangular grayish stains and nail holes. My footsteps were now muffled by the thick dark blue carpet spreading itself from the entrance to the small altar at the end of the hallway. "Altar" is how my father calls it, yet to me it was just a worn-out vanity with empty photo frames scattered on the desk, its drawers locked and the mirror dirty. I swore I saw him inspecting something in front of it, but maybe I was just imagining things.

At 11 a.m. I was already knocking at his door and inhaling the smell of printer paper, disgustingly expensive coffee and polished wood. Although the sun was shining and the window was open, he remained sat at the edge of his table, the shadows looming not over him, but with him. Knowing what follows next, I went and sat myself across the table. As I pulled my chair closer to the edge, I heard him whisper:

"No no no, come sit over here. We're going to do it a bit...differently today."

Not moving a bit, he just nodded towards a leather chair to his right. Taking my time, I scooted over to him and forced myself to look into his eyes.

"Did you eat today?"

"Not yet. I kind of slept over."

"That's no good." He stared into the textured glass of the cabinet door. As I grew up he started to get worse at talking to me. Eventually, my daily visits to his office became unavoidable small talks.

"Your exams?"

"What's with them?"

"You passed all of them?"

"Yeah."

"Wonderful to hear. Great." It was, as always, insincere. Whenever he complimented me there wasn't a change of tone or mood, he said it just as flatly as he said everything else. In fact, he kind of treated it like a chore.

"What's next?"

"Hm?"

"I mean, what's next after high school? I already passed everything in advance. Am I going to receive college education at home?"

It seems like that triggered a spark in him - he leaned forward, our faces now at equal height.

"I actually wanted to talk to you about that today. I already thought about that and, well, the answer is quite clear. You'll be inheriting my business."

And that's when it hit me - at that moment, I realized that in my 17 years of age I never thought about what my father does for a living. He had a lot of fancily-dressed people over often and he was rich, so it was clear to me that his job paid well. What he worked on, I never researched. When I was younger, I used to lay down on the staircase and watch over him from behind the balusters. I saw his men bring in various oil paintings, collections of coins and stamps, marble busts of emperors and philosophpers, ceramic medallions and other artistic pieces that I thought of as simply luxurious and over-the-top decoration. What I do remember clearly, though, is that whenever the two of us would go outside together he had to run some errands in the museums or galleries. From my cut-up memory I deduced that my father was some sort of curator.

"What business? You never really... talked about your job. Besides, you're not that old! I don't understand why you would retire at fifty-something. And even with my advanced education, I don't think I have the qualifications."

"Showing you the ropes is the easiest part."

"I barely just finished high school. You really do have high expectations for me, huh?"

"Why wouldn't I? You're my son, after all. Everything is already planned out."

"But your career is already quite great. Why drop it now during the golden years?" I realized mid sentence that I was treading on scarily thin ice. One badly formed statement and my shirt collar is going to be in his hands. Sulphur had his tolerance and his boundaries, and once they were stepped over a few too many times, things could get ugly. Very, very ugly. I was no exception to this.

He clicked his tongue. "Everything has its own reason. It's not important for you to know why, and all you need to do is sit up straight and get your hands on this opportunity. You know well how many grubby little hands would fight tooth and nail just for a shabby position in my field. You should be more grateful and tone down your curiosity a bit."

"If it's not important, then I assume it's not harmful either. Is there any problem with me knowing why?"

"Stop being so nosy." He murmured.

He suddenly got up and shut the half-open window.

"Do not question my actions. I am your elder, and elders ought to be respected. Soon, you'll be sitting in my office chair, signing papers and sorting them instead of me. Phone calls and documents. It's everything you can get hang of in a minute. Now, shut your mouth and go to your room. You're free until tommorrow. 11 a.m. as usual."

I didn't go to my room. I didn't even flinch when he spit his venomous insults at me. Instead, I sat perfectly still, my eyes still locked with his.

"You sound very disturbed. What is it that is so unimportant that you don't want to tell me?"

This was the sentence that made Sulphur Mélodis snap.

"Listen to me Desire, listen to me!" He growled as his enormous hands reached for my neck. I writhed and fought back and even bit, but as long as his hands were choking me, he had absolute control.

"Let me go, you fucking jackass!" I spat into his face, fueling his anger even more. It worked counterproductively - he pulled me closer and closer.

"Listen. I don't have much time left. It's not important. You just have to-"

"JUST TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED, FOR FUCK'S SAKE!"

His voice became quieter. I could hear him breathe heavily between each word.

"It's them. They're onto me. Turned their backs on me. Backstabbed me. Once they find me, I'm dead meat."

"Who?"

"Them. The superiors. They decided I'm not good enough for them anymore. They can't benefit from me anymore. They think I'm a traitor. I fucked up. I fucked up so bad, Desire. They know where I live. Who I am. What I do. They know about you. They won't spare you if you get in their way."

"Wha... what will they do?"

"The worst thing you can imagine. Listen. I'm their primary target. As long as they get me down, they're going to be satisfied. If they break into the villa, hide somewhere. Stay quiet and once they leave, get out and lock yourself into the house. Take over my business with a nickname or something. A codename. Whatever. You have the butlers to assist you. They're already informed."

My stomach knotted. I felt sick.

"When? What? Why? I- how?"

"It could happen in a week. In a month. Eliminate me outside the house. Poison me. Stab me. Electrocute me."

He gulped, and for the first time in my life I saw something in his eyes. It wasn't guilt or sadness, it was fear. Pure, unfiltered fear seeping out of this giant of a man. If he wasn't who he was, I'd pity him.

"Listen. There is a boy. Out there. Waiting for you. He might arrive in a week or so. Take care of him. Take care of yourself. Teach him well. I trained you your entire life for this moment. You are the perfect heir. My perfect ... mirror image."

"What boy? Please! Tell me more! I need to know!" I couldn't let all the things I needed to know die with this man, the man who made my house a birdcage.

"PLEASE! Tell me about him! Tell me about my mother! Who are they?"

There were so many questions and too little time for answers. Looking at him in that pathetic, vulnerable state, I could feel sorry for that man. I really could. But such strong emotions were torn away from me with his own hands, being in the way of his idea of the "perfect heir". It was a fleeting rush of love before I looked at him again and remembered who he really was.

"Your b-"

That were his last words whispered to me, before his brains splattered across my shirt, his blood flowed down my legs, his entire weight rested upon me. His lifeless corpse, a bullet carefully aimed and shot through the window, a fatal hit to the head. I never returned back to his cabinet after that day. Locked and in eternal darkness, the body of Sulphur Mélodis rot and bled for years, the blood melting into the wooden planks and the bullet resting in his skull forever - like a pearl inside an oyster.

The boy was staring at an invisible dot on the wall. He was thinking. He slowly bit his thumb, and then, hesitatingly, looked up at me.

"Is dad here?"

It was hard to look at him. The same silvery lock of hair, the same greyish-black eyes. He reminded me so much of him, but he was softer, still somehow radiating childhood innocence out of the features I grew to hate.

"No. Dad is gone."

He bit his thumb again. A habit since infancy, I supposed.

"And mom?"

"I... there isn't a mom. I never met my mom. She left when I was young."

"I hope she was a good mom. I had a good mom when I was at the orphanage. She used to scold me for reading books at night under faint light, though. She said it's because I was hurting my eyes and that I would go blind."

"Oh. That sounds... nice."

"Was dad good? I don't remember much about him."

I didn't want to trouble him with my own burden at such a young age, so I just waved my hand. "It's not important. He's not here with us anymore, anyway."

"What's your name? I forgot to ask you. Sorry."

"Desire. Yours?"

"Saphir. Apparently my dad gave me my name. I guess he likes giving odd names."

"...I guess."

I didn't know how to talk to him. He was well spoken, for sure, but prone to zoning out and thinking all by himself. He reminded me of myself when I was his age - it made everything hurt even more.

"What are we going to do now?"

"Well, I don't know. I can make you a room up there. I'm not that good at cooking either, but I have recipe books up there. And a butler."

"It's okay. You'll do a great job." His hand reached out for mine. I couldn't help it but feel incredible love for the little guy at that moment. Such a small gesture, but it placed him close to my heart. I've never met my half-brother before, but even with such polarizing emotions at first it felt like I knew him for a long time.

The butlers and maids greeted the two of us as we sat by the dining table. Instead of sitting on opposing sides like I did with my father, we sat right by each other.

I got reminded of them. My friend. At least used to be, for a month or so. It has been years since we met. I tried to push them out of my mind to make place for everything else that my father considered more important, but they never really left. It was an unstable relationship - to appeal to my father I villainized them, yet when it was too much to take I idealized their childish, innocent kind of love they selflessly embraced me with. And even considering the fact that they were living in the house right next to mine, I never built up the courage to knock on their door again.

"So at that orphanage... what did you exactly do?"

"Ooh. Lots of stuff. Played around, did some basic schooling. I also practiced some martial arts. A lot of it, actually."

"Ah. Interesting. I did lots of studying here when I was your age. I even did fencing."

"That's so cool! This villa house thing is huge, it looks quite pleasant."

"Cool". They flashed in front of my eyes immediately. I looked at my little brother, lost in thought and silently staring at the cook dicing the vegetables. A melty embodiment of all the good and bad people I knew, I grew to love him unconditionally and try my best to give him the childhood I lost.

The following paper is messier and wobblier than the other two. After inspecting it better, it becomes obvious that this one was torn away and was part of the first paper. Yet, it was crumpled in a ball and thrown in the corner of the room - just behind the writing desk. Did the author simply not like the way they wrote it, or was it too much for them to process?

He laid motionless in front of me. His bloodshot eyes were unfocused and his jaw was relaxed. He was all mine, and I could do whatever I wanted with him. Step on his skull again and again. Bash his head with his own cane and ruin his face with its silver tip. Slice his chest open. His organs were still in tact - I could donate them. Do a good deed.

As I headed for the cane, everything flashed right in front of me. Everything I forgot, was forgetting and will forget. What I should have and shouldn't have forgotten.

The bruised palm. The bruised knee. The bruised arm - the bruised everything.

I remembered how he found out my ankles were weak and wobbly. Whenever I did poorly during our study session he'd quickly sweep my feet with the cane and watch me helplessly fall down the flight of stairs. It brought him so much laughter that he started to do it even when I did well. When I cried and held onto his coat to get up again, he'd push me again until I got up on my own.

I remembered him holding the blade by my leg as I practiced my handwriting. The second my lettering got wobbly he'd push it into my skin, and if I cried he'd push it even deeper.

I remembered that the second my hair grew long enough, he used it to yank me towards him when I tried to run away from him. He pulled me so hard that I felt like my scalp was bleeding.

I remembered when he sliced my cheek with a razor in rage, all because I wanted to ask him a simple question. It took months for the scar to fully fade.

I remembered him grabbing a pair of scissors during one of our worst arguments, trying to snip at my skin.

I remembered him violently banging on my door for hours when I ran away from him and locked myself inside my room.

I remembered reading medicine books self initiatively because plasters weren't effective anymore.

I remembered wrapping the cuts with paper tissues and tape when I ran out of gauze.

I remembered too much.

I threw my abuser's cane at the wall, ran to my room and cried, cried like never before. Even when I made sure he wasn't breathing anymore, I couldn't muster up the courage to get into a one-sided fight against his cold, dead body. Freed from my shackles, I remained a coward.

#identity v #idv #idv headcanons #identity v headcanons #idv fanfic #idv imagines #joseph idv #idv joseph #truth and inference #photographer idv #idv photographer #joseph identity v #identity v joseph #joseph desaulnier #idv dm #identity v photographer #desire melodis #saphir melodis

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shiningstardan · 5 months

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During the process of writing fanfictions, do you have a creative block or are you able to flow a story easily?

☆ A S K T I M E ! ! !

Well... Imma try to reply to the best of my abilities. But first context:

I have come just come out from a 5-year writing pause. I won't call it a block because 5 years ago I didn't have much interest in writing, I just wrote 5 fics but didn't think much of it and even dropped one of those.

So, what have I done now that is so different and has gotten my juices flowing?

I have established some rules

1. I will not write for others.

What does this mean? I will not write expecting kudos, bookmarks or reviews. So I don't place my writing motivation on feedback, some people get writers block because they don't feel appreciated. It's hurtful but you gotta remember that you also write because you love this character and the fandoms. I've always been kind of a lone wolf irl so, I gotta conduct the same mentality on online spaces.

2. I will find what I need out of the fics I'm writing and write that

I have been investing a lot of time thinking in Naruto for example. What do I need from this story that I never got?

Hyuga lore & politics

Konoha 13 interactions

Re-imagining of the time skipped between the OG series and Shippuden.

The fact that naruto talks friendship to everybody but he only cares about 1 friend, so I need him to interact with the other.

Knowing I need this I have started writing fics using prompts that may help my inspiration. Created character profiles to know who is friends with who besides what we are told in canon. Taken advantage of certain fandom patterns, there are some headcanons that have become universal.

For example: Somehow, somewhere a fan decided that in fanfic Hinata's grandfather is called either Hideo / Hideto and the rest of the fandom just rolled with it! which brings me to my next point~

3. I don't have to start from scratch.

If you feel that you are inspired by an image, headcanon, just roll with it. Don't feel pressure to come out with "original ideas" all the time, that's exhausting. I personally love when authors reference things, so maybe you said that a character likes the color red and you repeat that in a different way every fic you have, maybe through clothes, maybe through food, maybe through objects. A nod is always welcomed.

4. I can work on something else or abandon your idea

If you are stuck with an idea you can

Sleep on it and check it later

Outline it and move on. You can write 4 or 5 sentences about what you want to happen in that section and then you can come up with the details for the scene and write something else.

Not work on it anymore, maybe you can recycle what you wrote for another project (that's how I wrote Happy Valentine's Day, I didn't want to star from scratch so I reused the first portion from a discarded idea)

5. Length doesn't define you

I'm currently writing a 20k+ fic. This is my first time writing this much and it's scary AF. I thought it would be a 2k max, because I don't have a really good imagination. In the past I have mainly written works under 1k and even a 40 part drabble pieces (if you know the technical definition drabbles are 100 words exactly). So up until now I had just written relatively short works.

Challenge yourself to write short, write a haiku, a drabble, some flash fiction (250 w) or something under 500. Just a page.

Any writing is good writing.

6. Workshop it

Talk about your story and the ideas you want to explore with a friend (that includes me now, just so you know. Whether it is an annonymous ask or a direct message, my ask box will always be open for fanfic questions, even if it's a different fandom or ship I personally don't gravitate to).

7. Educate Yourself

This last few months I have discovered that english and spanish are formatted totally different in terms of punctuation.

I have also wanted to learn more about creative writing so I watch some Lectures

That being said I think I write slowly, but enjoy it nonetheless.

#answered asks

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farahsamboolents · 1 year

Text

WIP Wednesday Weekend

i got tagged (ish? i'm counting it :P) by @shares-a-vest in this, and a) i forever wanna share what i'm writing, i genuinely LOVE these tag games and b) maybe the yay squishy feelings from people interacting w my post will unfuck my writers block, so IM DOIN IT YAAA

Rules:

In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can’t share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

My WIPS:

On The Mundane (Sarge Series)

LET'S DO THE TIME LOOP AGAIN

Broken Crown

The Will Camping Fic (Sarge Series)

The "what if Eddie was only on the periphery of S4?"

Snippet: so this one was actually supposed to be for a birthday... in may... but the writers block did the writers block thing, and also chronic illness and other life stuff, blah blah blah. anyway, Deanna, look away. Anyhow so this is from the "On The Mundane" fic, which is really just a collection of mundane lil one shots from my Sarge Series :) Y'know, the kind of thing that isn't gon be big enough to be a fic fic, but lil minor updates on their lives. Here ya go:

“Hey, I heard a loud noise. You okay in here, dude?” He said.

“Just peachy!” Said Robin, trying not to voice the irritation she felt.

“Is Steve okay?”

Robin froze.

“I heard the window, man, you know you guys don’t have to hide from me, right? I’m cool.” Argyle frowned. “You don’t think I’m like, a prude or anything, right? I’m not gonna tell anybody’s mom.”

“Uh. No. There’s just nobody here, just me and the open window, because it’s cold, I mean hot, my room was just stuffy, so I wanted the window open to make it colder. That’s all.”

“But I heard the fire escape?”

“Neighbour has a fat cat.”

“We’re not allowed to have pets.”

“We’re also not allowed to smoke weed.”

Argyle shrugged, turning back around. “Show me the fat cat next time, I wanna pet it.”

“I’ll try. It’s shy.”

He closed the door closed behind him.

Robin rolled to her side and peered underneath the bed, meeting Vickie’s sparkling eyes and shining smile.

Ta-daaaaaaaa okay this was fun, I tag @dreamwatch (thank u for tagging me last time), @eddiequinns, and @atmilliways :D and also anyone else who wants to do it, i genuinely love love love these things.

#fanfic #stranger things #rovickie #stranger things vickie #stranger things fanfiction #amboolents originals #robin and argyle are roommates in my sarge series if yall are confused btw lol #Amboolents Fic

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loneberry · 2 years

Text

--Anne Carson, from Men in the Off Hours

October 11

Packing for travels, I run into the same problem: what books shall I bring? Of course I always bring too many. I pick up Anne Carson’s Men in the Off Hours. Uncanny – it opens with a meditation on time, Woolf, and Thucydides on war – it echoes all the military podcast I listen to lately, discussions of what territory Ukraine will re-capture before winter, whether Russia will rebuild its forces during the lull, where the defense line will settle when the rasputitsa--when the muddy season--sets in. In war, everything is divided into “…before winter” and “…after winter.” Meanwhile, I stare at the vases of zinnias, cosmos, and nasturtiums on my table, which I grew from seed. (Woolfian time.) The magenta cosmos had just started blooming. So many buds. How full my vases will be! Then one day (yesterday) I come home from the office and they're gone. All the plants have been uprooted to clear the way for construction on the fence.

I flip to the last pages of Men in the Off Hours. There's a meditation on Woolf's diaries, which Carson read right after her mother died. She quotes the last line Woolf wrote in her diary before committing suicide:

"L. is doing the rhododendrons."

Yes I remember intensely puzzling over that blunt sentence while walking to the grocery store in Somerville, MA: the rhododendrons were blooming. How many there were on my block! "One of my least favorite flowers..." I once blurted out to Alex. Then, feeling suddenly ashamed of my prejudicial attitude, I recanted (sort of): "It's not that I don't like them--I just don't like them as much as other flowers." Why so opinionated on floral matters? A psychologist would say, the lower the stakes of a particular issue, the more fervently people will stake out a position (what is the proper direction to install a roll of toilet paper??).

My thoughts flit from my dislike of rhododendrons to a vision of Leonard on his knees in the garden, "doing the rhododendrons." It was the last written observation wrung from Woolf's ruffled mind. It bothers me that with suicides I can't pinpoint the exact moment the thought--the decision to die--takes possession of the bedeviled brain. Was it before or after 'L. is doing the rhododendrons'? The last words of the dead always vibrate with prognosticatory significance--therein must be a clue.

What did C google before jumping into the river?

Things like:

Suckdog (but she hated Lisa Carver!!) Turgid fetus (so her suicide is a return to the womb...)

Why am I so disturbed by the facticity of Woolf's last sentence? Because it shows no hint of the death wish she harbored? It reveals the doubleness of people, how desperately compartmentalized we all are, wearing the mask of someone who wants to live, opaque even to ourselves, to our diaries.

But I won't let it go. Death must be augured by the last sentence. When I was walking, mentally turning over my dislike of rhododendrons, my thoughts drifted to the character Rhoda in Woolf's novel The Waves. Yes, Woolf's fate was sealed when she wrote the water suicide and named her "Rhoda." That's the meaning of the rhododendrons, isn't it? (They all die in spring...)

I'm always working myself up into meaning knots this way: Rhoda/rhododendrons, a preternatural feeling reading Anne Carson, how she seems to puzzle over the same problems that consume my thoughts: the mystery of Emily Dickinson's master letters, Catallus's scatological poetry and ambivalent conception of love, Woolfian time, the feminine and watery being, Sappho's philosophy of desire, war, grief, "how vanished everyone is." The crossed-out foaming waters. I brought Men in the Off Hours with me and promptly devoured it on the plane. [Did not know that after I landed, I would spend hours walking the Berlin streets with Al Burian, who was shell-shocked with grief after the recent death of his mother. Did not mention what I had just read on the plane, though we did discuss Woolf, as I was wearing my t-shirt of The Waves to Sylvia's dinner party...]

#anne carson #woolf #viriginia woolf #flowers #the waves #men in the off hours #suicide #death #war #water #oceanic feeling #rhododendrons #time #literature #poetry

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saffronwritings · 2 years

Text

Tananka’s Awful Brownies

A Tsukishima College AU Oneshot

A/N: I wrote this one a while ago and wanted to break up between what I post next, hopefully something soon, this writers block got me feeling a sorta way. Everyone is aged up and there is mentioning of injesting thc. So warning? idk how it works lol. Enjoy~

“Tsuki, you should come to Tanaka’s party with Yamaguchi and I.” You said to your best friend who was laying down on your bed, reading one of his books. You were getting ready for the party by curling your hair just how you liked. It was rare for you to get dolled up but you were feeling yourself tonight. “I’ll pass.” He muttered without missing a beat. A groan left your lips, but you should have known better. Getting Tsukishima to agree to go to a party with you was like pulling teeth. “When was the last time you actually went out and had fun?” You shot at him while glaring at him through your vanity mirror. However, he didn’t notice because he hadn’t broken his concentration on the pages of the book he was holding. “I don’t need to go out to have fun, Y/N.” He answered in a matter of factly tone of voice.

You let out a huff of frustration and just continued to finish curling your hair for the party. You and Tsukishima’s friendship was natural and normal. While you two had the same sense of humor and tended to mock one another, you felt very comfortable around each other. Enough so that you could do mundane tasks with the other just vibing and doing their own thing. Most of the time, it would be a surprise if either of you were found without the other. Practically attached at the hips and the world's most dynamic duo. You both had brash personalities and honestly is what keeps the two of you as friends. There was never any sugar coating and was purely honest, even when the honesty was brutal.

“Fine, be a loser and don’t go. However, you can’t stay at my place.” You mentioned as you went to get up to find clothes to change into. “Why not?” He asked with a raised eyebrow. It wouldn’t be the first time he stayed in the vacancy of your apartment. There were plenty of times where he would just sit in your room or living room waiting for you to get back from your college classes. It got to the point where you had even offered for him to move in with you, however, he refused every time. So to continue avoiding his annoying, I waited forever for you to get back’s, you had just made him a spare key.

He never overstepped his boundaries and even was courteous to let you know most of the times that he was either on his way over, or was waiting for you after class. “I don’t want to come home and you make fun of me if I come back drunk.” You countered from your closet, sifting through your different clothes. “I would do that regardless if I was here or not.” He countered and you could almost hear the coy smirk that was forming on his lips. You ignored his comment and finally made a decision on your outfit. Grabbing things off hangers, you made your way over to the bathroom in your room. “Whatever, Kei. If I come home and you make fun of me, I’ll just lay on you.” You sighed out of annoyance.

“Oh no. Whatever will I do.” He dramatically said, making you roll your eyes. You had finished putting the finishing touches to your makeup and hair before stepping out into view. “Without being the biggest asshole in the world, how do I look?” You asked but didn’t hold out hope for him to not respond sarcastically. “But how will I retain my title if I don-” He started to say while sitting up but when he caught a glimpse of you he stopped his sentence all together.

Your hair was actually styled cutely to frame your face, your makeup was natural but enough to highlight all your best features. You were wearing a cute black and white plaid patterned mini skirt that hugged your hips well. You were wearing a basic tshirt that had the words “Self-love” laid across the front, but you had it tucked into your skirt to really highlight your frame. Not only that, but you were wearing your favorite black platform boots that made you just a few inches taller. This was the first time in a while that Tsukishima had seen you this dolled up. He was left breathless at how effortlessly stunning you looked.

“Hello? Earth to Tsuki?” You said in an annoyed tone, waiting for your best friend to say something. He shook his head from his intrusive thoughts and laid back down. “You look fine.” He said, trying to focus back on his book. “Just fine? Ugh, you suck, Kei.” You groaned before going over to your vanity to grab your phone. “Yamaguchi is here to pick me up, stay if you want, but like I said, if I come home drunk expect me to just flop on you.” You stated while grabbing your bag. “Wait, Yamaguchi is already here?” Tsukishima asked, getting up suddenly from your bed.

“Yeah? I told you he was on the way before I started to do my hair. I barely had enough time to get ready.” You explained, ignoring the fact he was moving across your room. “Well, it’d be a shame for us to keep him waiting.” He said, grabbing his jacket from your desk chair. You stopped dead in your tracks and looked up at your best friend. “Wait, you’re coming?” You asked dumbfounded, almost getting too excited. “Someone has to look after your dumb drunk ass. Yamaguchi is going to get distracted and god forbid something happened to you. I can’t have that on my conscience.” He explained, yawning in the process.

You weren’t going to fight him on the topic, instead, you quickly gathered your things, grabbed his arm and headed out of your apartment. Yamaguchi was almost just as excited to see Tsukishima trailing after you from your apartment complex. “Tsuki, are you coming?” Yamaguchi asked after rolling down the window. “Only to keep Y/N out of trouble.” He griped, rolling his eyes. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he refused to let you leave the apartment looking that good and having any of the guys at this college party get any ideas. He knew Tanaka wasn’t the bad type of guy, but he didn’t trust others.

The two of you got into the back of Yamaguchi’s car and rode in silence to Tanaka’s house party. He rented out the place with Nishinoya, Yamamoto, and a few other volleyball students. Which led him to throwing regular parties that you attended frequently. Yamaguchi finally agreed to go with you, and now you were having your best friend attend the party with you. As Yamaguchi pulled the car up to the house you could hear the music blaring from the road. “Great. This is going to be such a headache.” Tsuki grumbled, but you were still smiling ear to ear.

You all got out of the car and headed up to the house. When you entered you were immediately met with loud music and the smell of alcohol lingering in the air. Tsukishima scrunched his nose at both. “Loosen up a bit, Tsuki.” You yelled and made your way through the crowd. “Y/N-san! You made it!” Tanaka shouted from the DJ Table. He walked over and enveloped you in a hug. “Wouldn’t miss it Tanaka!” You yelled back over the loud music, returning the hug. You broke from the hug to look at an annoyed Tsuki who had been trailing behind you. “No fucking way, you got Shittyshima to finally come along?” Teased the upperclassman but had a wide smile on his face.

Tsukishima had only frowned at his statement. “Only to watch after my two dumb friends.” He replied in his usual monotone voice. You rolled your eyes at his attitude. If he was going to be such a sour puss what was the point of him coming? Was he going to be a stick in the mud the entire time you were here? Tanaka had wrapped an arm around Tsuki’s shoulder and directed him over to the kitchen. “Here, let me get you a beer man.” Tanaka stated, his voice not as loud in the kitchen where the music wasn’t as loud. “No thanks. I’m not here to drink.” He responded just as quickly as the words left Tanaka’s lips.

“Don’t be such a Debbie downer, Tsukishima. One beer isn’t going to kill you, if you drink it you drink it, if you don’t you don’t.” Tanaka shrugged, handing him a bottled beer before disappearing back into the crowd of people. Tsukishima had already lost your small self in the crowd of people. A sigh left his lips as he looked down at the beverage that Tanaka was insistent on him drinking. “So stupid.” He muttered before putting it down on the counter. It was littered with different snacks and drinks. However, his eye caught the tray of brownies that was laid by the chips. It was barely touched, but his sweet-tooth got the better of him and he helped himself to one of them.

He slowly munched on the large piece and made a face after swallowing it. It left a strange after taste in his mouth and looked at another one to see if they were burnt on the bottom. However, he noted that if it was burnt the bottom would have been crunchy. These were soft and moist, so there was no chance that they were burnt. Maybe his taste buds were off, so he ate the one he had picked up to check if it was burnt. Still, the brownie had a strange taste to it. He almost wished he had drank the beer instead of eating the gross brownies. Tanaka had come back into the kitchen to grab a plate full of different snacks. “Who brought the brownies to the party?” Tsuki had asked with a disdainful look in his eyes.

“I made them, why?” Tanaka questioned with a raised eyebrow. Tanaka looked at the two different plates of brownies. “They taste awful.” Tsukishima said, grabbing a bottle of water before exiting the kitchen to find you. The music was almost louder going back out into the crowd. He had recognized the song playing, only because you had played it multiple times while studying. Tsuki’s eyes scanned the room in attempts to find you and low and behold there you were dancing to one of your favorite songs. You were dancing with a few of your female classmates, and you already looked like you had a few drinks. Your face was flushed not just from the alcohol but from dancing.

He made his way over to you and admired the way you seemed to not care that you were dancing your little heart out. However, before you could catch a glimpse of him, he dodged his way over to a wall to lean against. He chugged a bit of his water to hopefully get the taste of Tanaka’s awful brownies out of his mouth. His face still was scrunched in disgust with the lingering aftertaste. You had finally turned in the direction of which he was standing and you smiled his way. His heart warmed at your action, but he instead raised an eyebrow towards you. You motioned your hand for him to come join you on the dance floor. He crossed his arms into an X and you frowned at him momentarily before shrugging and going back to your dancing. You were still blurting the lyrics out while dancing. “Am I falling in love with the one that could break my heart? Oh no, I was doin' better alone, but when you said, "Hello'' I know that was the end of it all. I should've stayed at home 'cause now there ain't no letting you go. Am I falling in love with the one that could break my heart?” You sang the final lyrics, almost looking at Tsuki the entire time.

With a playful smile, you rushed over to the tall boy once the song was over. “Are you having fun?” You shouted over the music. He winced from your obliviousness to sound levels at the moment. “Tanaka made some nasty tasting brownies. Who lets him cook?” He asked you, since you were more frequent to these parties. You quirked your own eyebrow up at his question, not sure what he was talking about. “Forget it.” He said, rolling his eyes. “You’re just picky with your sweets.” You mocked him while rolling your eyes. He was about to retaliate your teasing but when another song started, a squeal left your lips and you rushed back out into the crowd of dancing college students. A small smile quipped up on his lips as he saw you get so excited about the song currently playing.

He felt like he had been watching you dance forever. The song felt like it was playing on repeat and it was never going to end. Baby don't worry, you are my only. You won't be lonely, even if the sky is falling down. You'll be my only, no need to worry. Baby are you down, down, down, down, down? The song had kept repeating over and over. You were swaying your hips and dancing very in sync with the longest song he had ever heard. Maybe it was an extended version due to the party setting? What a silly tactic for musicians. Tsuki thought to himself. He looked away from you for a split second only to come back to seeing Nishinoya now dancing with you.

A frown had formed on his face to see Nishinoya getting up close to you like that. You weren’t doing anything in attempts to get the short skunk haired boy away from you. You were giggling and dancing stupidly to match Nishinoya’s silliness. You had always found Nishinoya amusing, especially since he hit on almost every girl in his class regardless of how many times he got shot down. He was an immaculate dancer and you had fun dancing with him whenever you came to these parties. When he swayed left, you had swayed right and vice versa, and you kept doing it to the beat of the song. It was a silly little thing you had going on. He had taken your hand and spun you around playfully making another giggle escape your lips.

You had only downed one of your solo cups and you were just floating happily. Even though you kind of felt bad that Tsukishima was seemingly bored out of his mind. He had just been leaning against a nearby wall, watching you and Yamaguchi having fun dancing. Nishinoya finished dancing out the song with you, giving you a wide smile before dancing off to a different girl. You rolled your eyes at his child-like antics and continued to groove to the songs that were playing. Once you felt like your heart was going to explode, you had stepped off the dance floor to see how your grump of a best friend was doing.

“Yo, Tsukishima, Y/N, wanna step outside and sit for a minute with us?” Tanaka offered. before you could say anything to your best friend. You had noticed Yamamoto was behind him. You looked to Tsuki for a coy response but he only shook his head. You grabbed his hand as if you were afraid he would bail on you, leaving you to deal with Tanaka’s bad humor alone. Tsukishima had leaned down to you while the two of you were walking to the back porch and had asked, “Didn’t it feel like those songs were playing forever?”. You looked back at him with a weird look and shook your head no, making him frown.

You followed Tanaka and Yamamoto out the sliding back door onto the furnished patio. You had plopped yourself onto the cushioned two seater and patted the seat next to you for Tsuki to sit next to you. He ignored you and just leaned up against the house near the sliding door. You huffed and pouted to your best friend before turning back to Tanaka. You figured he was annoyed with you for dragging him to this party that he was having no fun at. Tanaka and Yamamoto were talking back and forth about the new female manager for the volleyball team. You had nothing to contribute to the conversation but you were just glad to get outside into the cooler air.

There were a few people lingering in the backyard, probably to also escape the heat of the over-populated house. Some of them were in the inground pool that was below the patio deck. The music still reached out here so you could still hear the songs coursing through the party. You were honestly surprised that the boys didn’t have connected speakers outside, but at the same time you were glad they didn’t. You were able to relax for a moment without having to worry about shouting over not only over all those people, but the music as well.

You happily listened to the two boys gush about their crush on the new manager for a few minutes. Every now and then, you’d glance up at the spaced out Tsukishima and shoot him a smile. He’d return it with a small one before returning back to his spaced out state. You were about to get up and go talk to him, before the sliding door quickly flew open and Nishinoya was running at full speed with a boogie board in hand before jumping onto it to slide down the steps. He was doing great before he face planted at the bottom into the grass. Tanaka was laughing his ass off and you asked him if he was okay. Nishinoya had only given a thumbs up before jumping back up and undressing down to his boxers and jumping into the pool. A few other boys had followed Nishinoya in suit - disturbing those who were just lounging in the pool.

You hadn’t even noticed Tsukishima stalking over to sit next to you. “Hey,” He started, making you jump a bit. You held a hand to your heart and took a few deep breaths before looking at him. “What’s up Kei?” You asked, smiling at him. “Do you think that Nishinoya’s one brain cell bounces around his skull like a windows screen saver and when it finally bounces perfectly in the corner he experiences a legitimate coherent thought?” he spewed out.You, Tanaka, and Yamamoto had become quiet for a moment's time, you blinking a few times at what you just heard Tsukishima say. That was, before Tanaka burst out laughing at his statement. “Dude you are so right!!” Tanaka laughed out, gasping out for air.

“I knew something was off with you dude! I know my brownies are fucking bomb, but I guess I didn’t realize Noya had taken the spiked brownies out of the oven.” He laughed out. You whipped your head at Tanaka’s statement with bewildered eyes. “Excuse me?” You asked, looking back and forth between your best friend and the host of the party. “I’m pretty sure your best friend here had some edibles, my dude.” He laughed more, tears leaving his eye from how hard he was losing it. “Tsuki, how high are you?” You asked when you turned back to your best friend. He stared at you for a moment, raising an eyebrow at you. “I’m not high, you’re just short.” He responded after taking a moment to take your question into consideration. Tanaka stopped laughing for a moment before losing it all over again. He quickly got up from his seat to go over to the railing. “Yo! Nishinoya!! We got Shittyshima high!!!” He yelled out to the small boy. “WHAT?!” Noya shouted back out from the pool. “Yo Tanaka, two of the baseball students are fighting in here.” A lanky boy shouted from the doorway of his house. “Damn it, not again, Yamamoto, come help.” He groaned, excusing himself to break up the fight going on inside the house.

You were amused to see your best friend who was usually so strung up on everything, so relaxed. He looked at you and seemed disgruntled. “Are you okay, Kei?” You asked, turning to face your best friend. “Do you think there are parallel universes in which Nishinoya is both tall and smart?” He blurted out. A laugh escaped your lips as you shook your head to his silly thought. “That would mean there would be a universe where I’m short and nicer to people.” He sneered with a frown on his face. “I think you’re nice regardless.” You laughed, making him look at you with a fixed expression on his face that you couldn’t place.

The song had changed to the famous Katy Perry song that was really popular on Tik Tok. A smile spread across Tsuki’s face that you registered as amusement. “Let’s have a contest.” He suggested, making you raise an eyebrow. You were interested in what he was about to suggest, but you would have never guessed what he said next. “Let’s do the TikTok challenge to this song. Sing only the choruses to each other seriously without breaking eye contact but still make eye contact in between choruses, first one to smile or break eye contact loses. We start at the first chorus.”

A small laugh left your lips, but you accepted his challenge. You were going to have so much fun teasing him with this later when he finally sobered up. The song was nearing its first chorus and you straightened your back and cleared your mind in order to be able to do this with a straight face. You closed your eyes and let out a long breath before the lyrics started. Just because it's over doesn't mean it's really over, and if I think it over, maybe you'll be coming over again, and I'll have to get over you all over again. You both sang, both with a serious face. However, inside you were dying to laugh because you don’t know how to take this challenge with your best friend seriously, especially since you knew he was so high.

However, when the chorus was over and the next verse came on, you felt him intently staring at you. It was as if he was staring into your soul, like really looking at you for the first time in a long time. You felt your cheeks redden at his intense gaze at you, his eyes softly looking at you. The next chorus was coming up and you prepared yourself not to laugh at the silliness that was this challenge. You both succeeded the second chorus as well and you did everything not to look away from Kei. “What on earth did I just stumble across?” Nishinoya’s voice pulled you out of your intense focus.

“Mind your own business Nishinoya.” Tsukishima hissed, but didn’t break his gaze at you. Nishinoya muttered something before heading back into the house and closed the sliding door behind him. The two of you could still hear the blaring song through the closed door; Thought we kissed goodbye, thought we meant this time was the last, but I guess it's never really over. Thought we drew the line right through you and I - can't keep going back, I guess it's never really over. The pre chorus sang, and it seemed as if you and Tsukishima were drifting towards one another. You had noticed that the two of you were very close to each other’s face. Kei’s eyes still bored into your own and finally you had to break eye contact when he flashed his signature smirk at you.

You felt your face immediately flushing hot and you tried to not to think too far into what just happened. However, you didn’t get a chance to register your thoughts because Tsukishima had gripped your chin between his fingers and forced you to look at him. You were breathless with his actions and you noticed his eyes glance down to your lips before flicking back to your eyes. “I win.” He breathed, with a shit eating grin. You silently nodded, feeling dizzy from everything going on and from how close your faces were to each other.. “Hey Y/N?” You heard Yamaguchi called from the sliding door. You broke away from Kei’s grip in a frazzled state to look over at your other friend.

Yamaguchi had raised an eyebrow to the two of you but had a smirk on his face. “The cops were called because of the noise level and the fight that broke out. Do you want me to take you and Tsuki home?” He asked, the smile still etched onto his face. Tadashi had often teased you and Tsuki about dating from time to time. Tsuki always mentioned he would never date his gross friend or some backhand comment. You had told Tadashi in confidence of your growing feelings for your best friend, and he promised to keep it strictly between the two of you. You had always figured your feelings were one-sided but with how the night was going, you weren’t so sure anymore. However, catching Tsuki basically almost kissing you, made the boy wiggle his eyebrows at you.

“Yeah, that would be nice.” You blurted out, standing up and grabbing Tsuki’s wrist to pull him up from the chair. The three of you had trailed to Yamaguchi’s car after saying your goodbyes to the boys hosting the party. Tanaka was still laughing about how Tsukishima had eaten some of the weed brownies. You told them you’d text them to let them know when you all made it home. You climbed into the back seat again and Tsuki had taken the initiative to lay down on your lap and scrunch himself into the backseat. “That has to be way too uncomfortable for you, Kei. You’re too tall for that.” You said running a hand through his messy blonde hair. “I’m fine.” He said, looking up at you with his intense brown eyes. He said he was fine but he looked super crumpled in Tadashi’s small vehicle.

The ride back home was quiet as Tsukishima just let you play with his hair, while humming the Katy Perry song from the party. When you reached your apartment complex, Yamaguchi asked if you wanted him to take Tsukishima home. You looked down at Tsuki who had seemed relaxed and calm. While you knew Yamaguchi would take care of him, you wanted to be extra sure that in case he started to get paranoid, you were there to take care of him. Even though Tsuki would gripe about it, he would have done the same for you. You said your goodbyes to Tadashi and made it up to your apartment with no problems. “Do you know the real reason I went to this party with you tonight?” Kei asked once you had locked the door to your apartment.

“What's that?” You asked, amused that he even brought this up. “You looked too good all dolled up and god forbid I wasn’t there and some undeserving guy started flirting with you. Hell I almost wanted to shoo away that annoying Nishinoya.” He started ranting. You narrowed your eyes at him. You had gone to plenty of parties before today, what made this one so different in his eyes? And did he just admit he was jealous that you were dancing like a goon with Nishinoya? “Kei, I don’t understand what you’re saying. Maybe it’s the weed brownies talking. We can discuss this in the morning.” You told him, going to set up the couch for him. Before you could walk away from him though he grabbed onto your wrist.

“Y/N. If I have to be blunt, I will be.” He stated in a serious tone. Your face flushed again at his direct nature. “What do you mean?” You questioned him, surely he had to be messing with you. Maybe he thought you were drunk and even in his hazed state he was still determined to mess you with, that being the nature of your friendship. However, before you could say anything else, Kei had put his hand behind your neck and pulled you into his own lips. It wasn’t forceful like you had always imagined it to be, he was soft when it came to you. While the two of you may have always roasted each other, you always knew it was in a playful manner. Anytime he knew he took it too far he would always come and apologize to you, whether directly or indirectly. However, you pushed him away from you though and put some distance between the two of you, even though this is everything you could have ever wanted. A frown quickly formed on his face, taking note of your reaction to his actions. “Ah, I overstepped my boundaries, I see.” He muttered, going to turn away from you. “Stop messing with me, Kei! I’m not drunk! I don’t know what you think you are doing, but this isn’t funny.” You managed to squeak out. It took him a few seconds to recognize what you were going on about. Then a small laugh rumbled out of his throat. “Oh, you are too much sometimes, Y/N.” He laughed, before stalking back over to you.

He cupped your face in his hands and made you look at him. “Drunk, high, sober. It does not matter, because I am absolutely smitten for you. You make me want to do ridiculous things like dance with you at parties, you make me want to tell stupid jokes to get you to smile and laugh. Have I hidden my feelings for you way too long? Absolutely. However, seeing how flustered you got with me tonight, I had a feeling that maybe you liked me the same way I’ve liked you. So I’m taking this chance, even if I’m a bit hazy, to finally conquer this fear of mine.” He admitted to you, making your heart skip a beat. When you hadn’t said anything to him, he continued on his little rant. “I was jealous that maybe you would have found some other guy to come home with tonight. So I went to this party to hopefully keep me in the forefront of your mind.” He continued and when you looked up at him you could see the blush rising to his cheeks.

“I realized, I don’t want you to be happy with anyone else, but with me. I want you to myself, and if that is selfish then I want to be selfish for once.” He grumbled, realizing he sounded like a middle schooler and turning away embarrassed. You stayed quiet in shock for a few moments, really reeling in the fact that your best friend, whom you’ve had feelings for, was admitting that he had those same feelings for you. “You’re not messing with me?” You once again asked in a hushed tone. “My god, you idiot. Do I have to spell it out? I like you, hell maybe I even love you, but don’t press your luck. I still gotta sort out my own emotions.” He stated, not as confident as before. A smile spread across your cheeks at his confession.

“It only took you eating some edibles for you to finally admit that you like me? Gosh, if I knew that I would have asked Tanaka to make me some earlier.” You teased, making him roll his eyes. “You know what, forget everything I just said, I take it all back.” He teased back, making you pout. He took the opportunity to kiss you once again, making you a flustered mess once more. However, you happily reciprocated the kiss back. “However, I guess it's not all that bad, getting teased by you.” He uttered in a soft voice once he pulled away from the kiss. You nodded your head, as you started towards your bedroom.

“Do I still have to sleep on the couch?” Tsukishima asked in a low voice, his cheeks still tinted red at his subtle but direct question. “Absolutely not, get your tall ass in my bed now so I can cuddle you.” You laughed while shaking your head. “With pleasure.” He answered, trailing behind you with a smile embedded on his face. Maybe going to parties with you, wasn’t all the bad after all. (But, he knew never to touch any brownies ever again, especially if they were made by Tanaka.)

#tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima x y/n #tsukishima drabbles #tsukishima fic #haikyu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #tsukishima kei one shot #kei tsukishima

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intrepidacious · 2 years

Text

not even a little

summary: The problem of living with Bucky is that he makes it impossible not to fall in love with him. Even though you could list several hundred reasons why it’s a bad idea. And you have.

pairing: roommate!bucky barnes x reader

word count: 5.7k

warnings: pining idiots in love, slightly questionable roomie behaviour, simultaneously the softest and cockiest bucky i've written so far, blink and you miss it throwing shade at iron fist

please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

a/n: this is my very late submission for kathie's (@pellucid-constellations) love letters writing challenge <3 thank you for this lovely idea, writing this was a challenge indeed but that is, as they say, a me problem. also huge shoutout to @barnesafterglow and @sweetascanbee, this really and truly would still not be done without you. love you both 💛

masterlist | read on ao3

You’re screwed. You know that you’re screwed.

Surely, there’s a rule book for these kinds of situations, and rule number one tells you in big, blinking neon letters that you should absolutely, under no circumstances, not ever fall in love with your roommate. Especially not if he also happens to be your best friend.

And yet.

Trouble is that Bucky Barnes is the type of guy that makes it very, very difficult not to fall for him.

Honestly, you should have known better when Nat had suggested the two of you move in together, that night at the bar right after college, “since you’re both new in town and all”. You’d almost spat your drink in her face when she waved him over to where you were sitting, because there was no way in hell a man called James looked like that.

“Friends call me Bucky, actually,” he’d said, a smirk on his lips that went straight to your core.

Natasha glanced between the two of you with that smug look of hers, and you shot her a warning glare because she knew. She knew from the moment you awkwardly shook Bucky’s hand that he was gonna mean trouble for you, with his leather jacket and his blue eyes and his fucking horrible tendency to be both suave and sheepish within the same sentence.

So how are you supposed to say no after that?

It’s so easy to grow close to him, too. Way too easy. You fall into a routine with such effortlessness it has you wonder how you've ever managed without him at all. Grocery runs after work and movie nights on tired Friday evenings, conversations that would be nonsensical to anyone eavesdropping, dreary-eyed breakfast at 2 p.m. Quickly, it becomes difficult to remember a time in your life that didn’t include Bucky.

Needless to say, it’s a struggle.

Thankfully, you come up with a brilliant plan about a month into your new living arrangement. Or rather, your friends do.

“You should kill him.”

“Darcy!”

“What?” Darcy tucks into her mozzarella sticks. “We’d claim temporary insanity in court, if he’s that hot, there’s no way the jury wouldn’t understand.”

“You’d make an awful lawyer,” Colleen says drily, continuing to pat your head awkwardly.

Darcy raises one impeccable eyebrow. “Got some better idea to save Y/N from Barnes’ death grip, buzzkill?”

“Remember before I broke up with Danny?”

You snort at the visceral shudder that goes through Darcy. “Those were the dark days.”

“Hah.” Colleen rolls her eyes. “Anyway. I wrote down every single time he did something that pissed me off, and whenever I felt myself falling into old habits, I went over the list. Worked like a charm. I was over him like that.” She snaps her fingers.

“And thus, another national holiday was born,” Darcy says, clinking her bottle against Colleen’s. “May we always commemorate Independrandce Day to remind ourselves that bad times don’t last.”

“All the things that piss me off?” you ask doubtfully. “I want my crush to go away, not make my apartment unbearable to live in.”

“Just try it for a while, then,” Colleen shrugs. “If it doesn’t work, you can still resort to physical violence. There’s an open spot in my Thursday class.”

You’re busy Thursdays.

It’s almost surprising how little time passes until you need to take your friend’s advice. You’re just headed into the kitchen to grab a snack before you leave for work when you screech to a halt.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Bucky turns around slowly, having the audacity to look confused even as he’s still holding the bottle. “Having a drink?”

“Of milk?” you say, trying not to actually gag. He’s lucky you’re not a milk-sharing household or you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from going off.

“Gotta keep my bones strong.” There’s a glint in his eye as he says it, too, because at this point he already knows exactly how to rile you up. He loves seeing you explode.

This time, though, you won’t give him the satisfaction.

Slowly, an empty smile on your face, you pull out your phone. Bucky, you are an actual horrible disgusting psychopath, you type with a forced sense of serenity. who tf drinks milk straight from the bottle.

You feel strangely better after that and another deep breath.

“I’m gonna go now,” you tell him a bit too sharply and turn on your heels. You’ll get food on your way.

It quickly turns into a habit. Every time he does something small that would normally set you off, you open your notes app and write it out, instead. It helps at least somewhat to stop romanticizing your situation. Level things out a little.

Because the truth is, Bucky Barnes absolutely aggravates you sometimes, and it’s good to remind yourself of those times when he’s once again wandering around the apartment in nothing but his sweatpants.

“Jesus, Buck,” you say, slumping down on the couch a few feet away from him. “Would it kill you to wear a shirt every once in a while?”

“It’s like a hundred degrees in here,” Bucky whines, not moving from where he’s reading.

“So? You don’t see me strip naked.”

His smile is lazy, but his eyes sparkle with amusement as he turns his page. “I know, and it’s a shame.”

“Fuck off, Barnes.” Your cheeks are on fire and you can only hope he can’t tell. “Nat’s gonna be here in five minutes.”

“Okay,” he says, not moving an inch.

You stare at him incredulously. “Can you please put some clothes on?”

“I am wearing clothes,” Bucky states dryly. “Besides, Nat won’t mind.”

“Dot might,” you mumble, but he ignores you. Not that you expected him to; his on-again, off-again relationship has been a topic of contention for a while now, and not because of you.

Truly, you’ve been doing a lot better lately, keeping a lid on your feelings. Which is why you’re able to look at him and his naked torso and his arms and be completely fine. Really. You pull your gaze to the book he’s holding and frown.

“Is that mine?”

Bucky finally glances at you, looking almost bashful. “You said it was good.”

You blink in surprise. You did say that, but not to him. You remember telling Colleen how much you loved it the last time you were facetiming in the living room while Bucky was perched at the kitchen counter with a bored, absent expression on his face as he silently scrolled through something on his phone.

The fact that he listened makes you choose to ignore that he’s definitely going to ruin the spine if he keeps holding the book like that.

“How do you like it?” you ask, voice slightly higher than usual.

“It’s great.” His smile returns, and you will never be sick of him looking like that, looking at you like that. So content.

The doorbell wakes you from your trance with a start.

Bucky sighs quietly as he carefully places a bookmark between the pages and gets up from the couch, rolling his shoulders. You watch him as he shuffles away to his room without another word, sweat making the hair stick to his neck. It takes you another moment to stand up yourself.

You pull out your phone as you wait for Nat to get upstairs, hesitating for a moment before you open your notes app. The feeling in your stomach uncoils.

***

There are days, despite your best efforts, that you still let yourself hope. Like when Bucky makes enough pancakes for dinner to feed an entire football team and you talk about the book he’s borrowed over maple syrup and jam until it’s eleven at night. Or when you’re out with your mutual group of friends and his gaze always finds yours after he’s made a joke, as if to gage your reaction, as if to make sure to catch a spark of amusement in your eyes.

Other times, like right now, you simply don’t have the time to question your relationship too much.

While the prospect of your upcoming promotion is great, it leaves you with an almost insurmountable pile of work that’s to be done as soon as possible, and the long hours make you putter around the apartment like a zombie. Thankfully, Bucky’s been avoiding you while you’re in this state, spending his days at Dot’s, or at Steve’s. You’re sure he’s told you at some point, but you don’t really remember.

You’ve set up your little work space in the living room, because it’s the only room with proper light in it. Most of your time is spent on the couch, noise-canceling headphones on and trying to focus on what feels like seven different projects at once. You miss feeling the sun on your skin.

As you’re trying to get your eyes to focus on the numbers and nonsensical reports flickering over your laptop screen, you notice movement in your peripheral vision. You flinch, pulling off your headphones, and then blink.

Bucky freezes mid turn, clearly not having expected you to notice him. “Sorry,” he says. “I just got home.”

Your stare remains fixed on the table. Your favorite mug is filled to the brim with tea, placed delicately on the previously empty coaster next to your pile of books.

“You looked like you needed it,” he continues, and your heart swells.

“Thank you,” you mumble and he shrugs.

“Dinner should be here in twenty, if you want some.”

You nod, watching the steam curl when he leaves you to your reports again. Strange, how easy it is to suddenly overthink a cup of tea.

You wait a couple of minutes for it to cool, then take a tentative sip. Your nose scrunches up.

He’s oversteeped it to the point of no return.

Still, you find yourself drinking most of it, because for some reason you can’t bring yourself to just pour it down the drain. It’s like you can’t quite let go of the gesture.

When the week is finally over, you both sit on the fire escape with a drink in your hands and breathe in the cool early night air. There’s undone dishes and at least three machines’ worth of laundry and a thousand other things demanding your attention, but for now, for this one evening, you’re finally content to do absolutely nothing and do it guilt-free.

It’s nice to just sit next to each other in utter silence as you watch the people below hurry along home through the traffic. The streets smell like spilled gasoline and the very last fringes of summer. The sun is setting at a deliciously lazy pace.

Bucky nudges you and points to the other side of the street. You coo as you watch the corgi waddle around the corner, almost itching for your phone to take a picture. Instead, you look up.

The sky looks beautiful, as if someone had softly smudged the deepest blue ink while it was still drying and dabbed the most glorious shades of pink and orange at the edges. A plane goes by overhead, blinking and leaving a trail of gray across the vast firmament.

“You know,” you say, leaning your head against the wall. “When I was little, I used to think these clouds were made of cotton candy.”

Bucky doesn’t laugh, but you feel the smile radiating from him without even turning. It’s like that, between you. Random thoughts are never weird. Only there to be outweirded.

“I used to think the moon was made of cheese,” he offers tonight.

You do laugh, then, short and loud. When you meet his eyes again, they’re the color of the darkest parts of the sky, and the look on his face is indescribable. Almost like surprise. It sends a chill through you.

“What?” you say, and he shakes his head.

A car alarm goes off in the distance, and you avert your gaze again, pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders. Bucky’s phone vibrates with a message, but he doesn’t duck inside like you expect him to. Instead, you both sit there until the sun has fully disappeared, and something seems to settle.

It’s a setback that follows you well into the next year.

“I vote arsen or arsenic,” Darcy says. “You have insurance, right?”

She reaches over to grab your phone, swiftly entering the pincode with that set frown of hers as if she’s trying to hack into the pentagon again.

“I doubt they cover homicide,” you deadpan.

“Manslaughter, actually” she reads from your phone. “In the first degree. Ow!” She rubs her shin.

“Who are we getting rid of?” Natasha asks, sliding back into the booth next to you.

“No one,” you say at the same time as Darcy says, “Barnes, duh.” You give her a sharp look. She sticks her tongue out at you.

Nat bumps her shoulder against yours. “How long has it been, coming up two years in June?”

“Shut up,” you murmur, taking another sip of your milkshake. “Darce, what are you doing with my phone?”

“Well, I’m done googling, I wanna see if you actually made that list.”

“What list?” Natasha asks.

“Okay, give me that.” You try to grab your phone back, but Darcy snatches it out of your reach quickly.

“Come on, you never tell me these things anymore,” Darcy complains and continues scrolling. “We used to have so much fun! Does he snore? Does he leave his socks all over the floor? I have a need to know!”

“And it’s making you rhyme, too.”

She’s still dodging your efforts to get your phone back while she’s talking. Natasha watches both of you in amusement, eating her cheesy fries.

“Hah!” Darcy exclaims and your heart drops. “I knew it, he seems like the type to break a spine. I can always tell.”

“Darcy,” you say warningly.

She gasps theatrically. “He killed Fernadette? You said it was an accident!”

“Plants die, Darce, it’s not a big deal.”

In the moment of her outraged distraction, Nat plucks your phone from her hands. She scrolls down once, smirks, and finally hands it back to you. “Change your passcode, WikiLeaks.”

You throw the phone back in your bag resolutely, cheeks burning.

Darcy pouts. “I didn’t even get to the good stuff.”

“You know,” Natasha says, dipping her fry into the melting whipped cream on your shake. “Some of this stuff you should probably tell him.”

“It’s fine,” you say through gritted teeth. “I’m fine. We’re both still alive, aren’t we?”

“Only because you’re boring,” Darcy rolls her eyes.

Natasha lifts her glass. “To two years’ survival in June,” she grins innocently at you.

As you clink your glasses together, there’s something in her eyes that makes you feel like you’re toasting an ultimatum.

***

It’s irrevocably over with Dot when Bucky officially breaks up with her the day before Valentine’s, which is a bit extreme even by your standards, and you’ve never liked Dot.

Matter of fact, it would have made the list anyway, but all the more so when he decides to wreck your following evening as well in the process.

Being eternally single, you’d planned a nice, relaxing night home alone with a movie and some takeout to keep you from obsessively refreshing Instagram as a way to torture yourself. Cozy, quiet, totally not alone forever.

Instead, you now have a sullen-faced Bucky to contend with.

“If you’re gonna be moping all night, you can do it in your room,” you finally snap after he’s complained about your choice of food, the candle you wanted to burn in the living room, and how you decided to eat the giant box of chocolates you’d treated yourself to.

“I’m not,” Bucky says mopingly.

You roll your eyes. “Seriously, you couldn’t have chosen literally any other day of the year to break things off with her? There are a lot of them, you know.”

Bucky throws a pile of chocolate wrappers at you. You retaliate with a pillow to his face.

There’s a second for you to laugh at his expression, when he’s still too stunned to react, before the pillow comes flying back to hit you in the temple and you almost fall off the couch with a shriek.

“Aren’t you supposed to be nice to me?” Bucky asks, grabbing a pillow in each hand to use as defense.

“Pretty sure that’s a dumpee privilege,” you say, mimicking what he’s doing.

You stare at each other for a second, then Bucky throws one of the pillows he’s holding at your head. It lands on the floor as you block it with your own, taking the unlit candle down with it. You smack another of your pillows at his face.

Finally, there’s a little glint in his eye again. “I thought you didn’t like her.”

“Doesn’t mean she deserves to be dumped on February thirteenth,” you say. The second pillow misses and Bucky’s grin turns feline. Shit.

Slowly, you put one foot on the floor, Bucky watching your every move. You can see the pillow on the floor out of the corner of your eye.

You dart towards it and Bucky throws his second pillow. You duck. Your chocolates go flying to the ground, scattering everywhere. Both of you grab the floor pillow at the same time, struggling for it.

“Dickhead,” you gasp, thinking of your nice ruined chocolates. You twist to wrangle the pillow out of his grasp, but in doing so stumble. Bucky, to his credit, tries to stop your fall, but you only take him down with you, landing uncomfortably on top of each other on the couch.

Your breath hitches when you feel his weight on you, closer to him than you’ve ever dared before. There’s something in the depths of his eyes that makes it very hard to have a single coherent thought.

“Maybe,” Bucky says, and there’s a tiny crack in his voice as if he knows it, too, “I was sick of pretending.”

Time seems to freeze. He doesn’t move, and his face doesn’t change as he looks at you, not really. It’s just Bucky. Just … everything.

You can feel heat rising.

The doorbell saves you from embarrassing yourself further. You can hear Bucky cursing under his breath as you gently shove him off you and hurry to the door, your heart still thundering.

It’s a moment you keep replaying in your mind obsessively even weeks later, as if remembering it as often as possible would change the outcome at all. Would stop your food from arriving at that exact moment, and instead …

Going down that line of thought is a dangerous game, especially now that you’ve seen the freckle next to his mouth up close, delicately placed there like a dimple, like it was painted with the softest brush. It begs to be kissed.

Sam’s voice calling your name snaps you back to the present and you lock your phone, sharply turning on your heel and almost spilling the buckets of popcorn you’re precariously holding in one arm while attempting to balance the nachos with the other.

“Isn’t that a lot of snacks for four people?” Bucky asks, taking some of the stuff off you.

You don’t meet his eye and frown instead. “Why four people?”

“Nat just sent a text,” Sam says, his arm still around Misty’s waist. “Apparently Steve’s got a cold and they’re staying home.”

And with Joaquín still in Mexico and Darcy running so late at work she’d meet you at the bar later, your group of eight had just been reduced to a date with a plus two. Wonderful.

“Did you only get salty?” Bucky asks, already eating as you make your way to your seats.

“Of course not,” you say, keeping the second bucket out of his reach. “But we’re sharing these. Every time I trust you with the popcorn they’re mysteriously gone ten minutes into the movie.”

“Ain’t no mystery about it,” Bucky says. “Gimme some.”

“No!” You sit down between him and Sam. “You can wait until the trailer show at least.”

“That might be hours! I could starve by then!” He looks at you with his saddest puppy dog eyes, and it might have worked on you, too, had you not had this exact discussion several times before. “Please?”

You cross your arms over the bucket so that he won’t just reach over. “Nope.”

Sam grins. “You got a ruthless one there, Buck.”

The lights go down before anyone can notice the slight twitch in your expression.

Bucky does make it all the way through the trailer show before he starts shifting in his seat, softly tugging at your sleeve. You keep staring at the screen.

“Come on, sweets,” he whispers and you swear you feel all the hairs in your neck stand up. You don’t turn your head or move your arms. He leans over until his head is basically on your shoulder, his knee nudging yours, his hand sneaking for the bucket in your lap.

“The popcorn. Stays. With me,” you hiss. You’re tempted to slap his fingers away, but you find yourself completely immobilized.

“You said you’d share,” Bucky says into your ear. His entire arm is pressed against yours now, and it takes everything in you not to tremble. “Just let me have what’s mine.”

You can only hope no one will ask you about any particulars of the movie later on.

***

You don’t expect it all to fall apart so soon after that.

“Well,” Darcy says as the five of you huddle underneath the tiny awning in front of the bar. “I sure am glad I still came out tonight.”

It’s pouring down in buckets, the wind tearing at your jackets, the sky pitch black. The nearest subway station is a seven minute walk away, and you share a total of two umbrellas between you, one of them snatched from the lost and found box at Luke’s.

“Any of us going in the same direction?” Misty asks, opening her own umbrella. Sam takes it out of her hand to cover them both.

“Not really,” you answer, looking at Bucky. “Uber?”

He nods. “My phone’s empty, though.”

“Jesus, why isn’t this working?”

You snort, unlocking your phone without looking and pressing it into Bucky’s hand before hurrying to assist Darcy in her fight with the lent umbrella. “You need to hold it against the wind. Seriously, for someone with two PhDs—”

It finally snaps open, cutting off Darcy’s cussing. Her glasses are already blurred with raindrops.

“Well,” Sam says. “We’d offer to wait with you, but I don’t think this is gonna get better any time soon, so …”

“Just go,” you reassure him. “I’m sure we won’t be long, either. Right, Buck?”

“I don’t know,” he says, and the unexpected iciness in his tone makes you turn around slowly.

You have never seen this kind of look on his face, that coldness skewing his beautiful features into an ugly mask. In his eyes, there’s nothing, not even a trace of the fondness that swirled in them less than a minute ago. Your heart drops.

“Are you alright?” you ask softly.

“Great,” he says brusquely, shoving your phone back in your hand. “In fact, I think I might go on a walk.”

And without a word of goodbye, without a second glance, Bucky walks out into the opened floodgates.

For a moment, none of you can do anything but gape after him in disbelief. He doesn’t turn when you call his name, doesn’t seem to hear it at all. His hair is wet through immediately, sticking heavily to his neck, but it’s like he doesn’t notice the rain, his hands shoved into his pockets as he turns a corner and disappears out of your sight.

“What’s wrong with him?” Sam asks, and even though you understand why the question is directed at you, it feels like an accusation.

“I don’t know, I—”

It’s then that you glance at your phone, still opened to your notes app, and your stomach plummets again as you read your own angry, frustrated words. I actually hate you, you know that? Hells even wrong with you.

Your vision blurs.

You want to vomit, vomit or cry or both, but there’s no time.

“Take this,” you say to Darcy, pushing your phone and bag into her startled hands before you run. The wind and rain whip in your face, but you don’t care.

You have to find Bucky. You have to tell him that this is all a misunderstanding, a terrible, terrible error.

Youre such a fucking idiot.

Your boots splash water in all directions as they hit the pavement. Slow. You’re too slow. “Bucky!”

This was a mistake. I shouldve never moved in with you.

When you reach the corner of the street, Bucky is long gone.

***

You’re not sure how long you stand there in the rain before they catch up with you, huddling you between them and their two umbrellas until you stop crying long enough to get into the car they’ve called for you.

Darcy climbs into the seat beside you, and by the look on her face you can tell that this time, she’s read the entire thing.

She doesn’t say anything about it, for once keeping her mouth shut as she fishes for your keys and lets you both into the empty apartment. She’s offered to take you to her place for the night, but you shook your head so vehemently at the thought you got dizzy with it.

Maybe he’d come home. Maybe there’s still a chance to clear this thing up.

But his shoes aren’t there when you stumble through the door, and it’s cold in here. As cold as the look in Bucky’s eyes had been.

Darcy forces you into the shower, and when you get back out, there’s a steaming cup of tea waiting in your favorite mug. Of course, she still doesn’t quite understand why that only makes you cry again.

“I fucked up, didn’t I?” you whisper as she wraps her arms around you.

There’s a long pause before Darcy says, “He’s got no clue what he’s walking away from.”

You don’t plan on moving from the couch, so you get Darcy to agree to use your bed for the night. She seems hesitant to leave you, even if it’s just down the hall. You stay where you are, half-seated and huddled in the patchwork blanket Bucky’s mom had sent from Shelbyville. It smells like dust and homemade cookies.

The hours seem to tick by ever so slowly, and the only noises you hear are those of the city. You doze off every now and then, for no more than a couple of minutes at a time, your head turned towards the hall.

It’s very, very early in the morning when the soft click of the front door wakes you. The rain has reduced to a drizzle, the first hesitant rays of sunshine glimmering through.

“Bucky?” you call out quietly. His steps halt for a moment, as if he’s not expected you to be here, but he comes in anyway.

He looks terrible. The rain has molten off the terrible cold mask, but his expression underneath is even worse. He doesn’t meet your eye, doesn’t even acknowledge you sitting there as he walks past you, his dark circles not quite hiding the shattered, matted blue of his eyes.

He doesn’t react to your saying his name again, and the bathroom door closes behind him before you can get up.

You stand there, unsure what to do next, how to make him look at you, talk to you again. You’re still standing there, twisting your phone between your hands, when he comes out of the bathroom again only to vanish into his bedroom without so much as a glance at you.

Two minutes, you decide. You’d give him two minutes to get dressed and sit down.

The eternity of that time span seemingly flies by, and you make yourself move.

“Bucky?” you say quietly, putting your palm against his door.

Of course, he doesn’t answer. He’s not pacing, either, like he usually does when he’s upset, but in this case, you’re not sure if that’s better or worse. Swallowing hard, you open the door.

Bucky’s sitting on the edge of the bed, as if he’s been waiting for you, his head leaning heavy against his arms. He looks terribly small like this.

“Hi,” you whisper, awkwardly. Your face feels like it’s about to melt off. “Can we talk?”

He lifts his head slowly, as if each degree it takes costs too much energy. When he finally looks at you, it almost makes you flinch.

There’s a sadness inside them, mixed with tiredness, that you’ve only caught in your own reflection.

For a long moment, you just stare at each other, before Bucky finally says, “Do you want me to move out?”

Of all the things you expected, this is not one of them. Particularly not with this hoarseness in his voice.

“I want to explain,” you say, taking a tentative step closer.

Bucky huffs a dry breath, pressing the palm of his hand to his eye. “I think it’s pretty self-explanatory that you think I’m the ‘biggest pain in the ass the world has ever seen’.”

You cross your arms in front of your chest to keep them from shaking. “I know I wrote that, but I—Colleen said I should—that it would help.”

“Help what?”

“Make it easier,” you say, so, so quietly, but he still hears you.

“And did it?”

You shake your head slowly, uncrossing your arms. “It pretty much backfired.” You unlock your phone again. “You see, I was supposed to write down all the things you did that made me crazy, but at some point … at some point I started adding the things that made me crazy about you.”

Nothing but confusion in Bucky’s eyes as he stares at you, then at your phone. “What are you saying?” he asks softly.

You close your eyes. “You should continue reading.”

Your hands are trembling so hard now he has to take the phone from your hands to make out any of the words. The silence that follows is unbearable, but you don’t dare look at him. So you talk.

“Like, remember when you went to IKEA with Steve and I couldn’t come with you, so you got me one of those shark plushies and a whole almond cake?” You can’t help but chuckle, even though you don’t feel like it. “I tried reading into that for so long, if it was his idea or if I just got stuck in your mind.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything, so you continue, still not opening your eyes.

“Or when Dot used to stay over and you’d make me an extra batch of waffles to make sure I wouldn’t feel left out. Or when we stayed up until 4 to make those Christmas cookies, even though it was September?”

He huffs again. “I broke up with her that day.”

You do look at him, then. “No, you didn’t.”

Bucky’s still staring at the list on your phone. “I brought her the last of her stuff before Valentine’s Day. I don’t think it’d hit her before then, that she could be nasty about it all now.”

His eyes are very blue again when he turns them towards you, clear and focused entirely on you. It’s hard to keep your knees from buckling.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

And there it is. The question that’s been haunting you for almost two years now, that’s been unspoken in Natasha’s gaze and in Darcy’s hug, even though they knew the answer.

Because you’re a coward.

“You’re my best friend, Buck,” you say quietly, your eyes burning. “I just didn’t … I don’t want to lose that.”

“Hey.” He stands in front of you before you even notice him moving, his hands cupping your face and turning it towards his. A shuddering breath falls from your lips. “You,” Bucky continues, “could never, ever do anything to lose me.”

“I almost did today,” you whisper and his face falls.

“I’m sorry I ran away.”

You shake your head and he pulls you into an embrace. His hair is still damp, but soft from his shower. He doesn’t smell like city rain, only the way he always does. As if it all had never happened.

And when he finally draws back to look at you with that glint in his eye, hands still loosely gripping your waist, it almost feels like a bad dream.

“So,” he says, and the cadence in his voice makes your heart stutter. You inadvertently move backwards, out of his grasp, and a wicked grin appears on Bucky’s lips. It’s impossible to look away. “She ‘didn’t deserve me’, huh?”

“She didn’t,” you say warily, watching him. He takes a step closer and you retreat.

“At least she never ‘wanted to burn all my shirts’.”

“And how would you know?” He’s still coming closer. “Just because no one’s done it …” You trail off.

Bucky hums. “No one’s ever told me my eyes ‘look criminal in this light’, either. Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“Bad,” you say, wincing as you bump into his dresser. “So bad.”

He’s very close to you now, his arms trapping you on both sides, towering over you. Your eyes flit between his own and his lips. That freckle.

The look on his face reminds you of late evenings on a fire escape.

Bucky’s nose bumps against yours, once, twice, as if testing the waters. You don’t think you can breathe. His eyes are so dark when he looks at you, the longing suddenly bursting through the surface, and you realize you’ve both been pretending for far too long.

His brows are knitted slightly, contemplative, as if he’s trying to commit you to memory. If he weren’t standing so close, you’d be shaking.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmurs, and the words explode into a million butterflies in your stomach. “You did get stuck in my head.”

And then he kisses you.

The rain stops.

thank you so much for reading!! please don't forget to leave a comment or a reblog if you enjoyed this 💛 if you want to see more of my writing, check out my masterlist or follow @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications!!

#loveletterswritingchallenge #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfic #not even a little

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multifandombitxh · 2 years

Text

Two Years Late (Ch. 2)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Series Genre: Friends to Enemies to Lovers

Chapter Genre: Angst

Chapter Warnings: brief mention of death, depictions of violence/blood, bullying(? Eddie mean lol), PTSD flashback

Chapter one: X

Tag list: @soapbar99 @avengersmarauders @senkobingus

A/N: I'm so glad some of you liked this series!! I've been working on it for a bit now so I hope you all enjoy future chapters. If you'd like me to add to to the tag list pls let me know ♥️♥️

Edit: I wanted to clarify I wrote this BEFORE vol. 2 came out, just as an FYI!

Chapter 2: In Your Dreams

"I think you're overthinking this," Robin said over her shoulder as she organized a row of tapes. "I mean, honestly, you had a crush on him once, right? It's normal to have dreams about your crush."

"I haven't thought of him in years, Robin," You sighed, "And it wasn't a dream, it was a nightmare, and he died."

The nightmare in question was why you swore not to sleep again until you physically couldn't fight it anymore. It came to you just as you had fallen asleep the previous night, tearing you back out of your rest immediately. It was hard to recall, but based on what you hadn't blocked out, the Demogorgon attacked Eddie in the dream.

Robin shrugged and turned to face you, leaning her back against the shelves behind her. "If it bothers you so much, why don't you just, I dunno, talk to him?"

"I mean, for starters, he hates my guts," You scoffed, "If I told him I had a dream where he died, he'll think I'm a psycho. Besides, I wouldn't even know when I could talk to him."

Robin finished organizing the tapes and turned on her heel to face you again, a sparkle in her eye. "You know, I heard there's this old, rickety picnic table out behind the track field where people meet Eddie to do drugs deals after school. Maybe you could meet him there."

"Yeah, right," You laughed, "Like he'd talk to me if I showed up there. He'd probably run for the hills if he saw me waiting to do business with him."

"You say 'do business' like it's dirty," Robin chuckled, "Like you're gonna meet him behind the school to give him a bl-"

"Don't finish that sentence," Steve warned, whipping his head around the corner and pointing a finger at Robin. "Do not. Finish. That sentence."

Robin threw her hands up defensively. "Quit eavesdropping!"

"The last thing I wanna hear while I'm trying to work is you two knuckleheads talking about Y/N and Eddie 'the freak' Munson doing God knows what behind the school," Steve said, looking between the both of you with a stern expression on his face. "Got it?"

You both agreed in monotonous voices to no longer speak on the subject. Once Steve was done giving you deadly looks and had returned to his own work, Robin leaned in and cupped her hands around your ear.

"Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing," She whispered, "I hear he still talks about you all the time."

"God, not you too," You groaned, "That's what Mike and Dustin kept saying when I drove them home the other day."

"It's the truth!" She whisper-yelled, "So I think you should do yourself a favor, and go meet him. School should be out soon anyway."

"Wait," You said, "Shouldn't you be in school?"

Robin shrugged. "I have study hall for my last period, so I get scheduled at this time a lot. Besides, not the point, quit trying to redirect!"

You pinched the bridge of your nose and squeezed your eyes shut, taking a deep breath. "You're not gonna stop telling me to do it until I do, are you?"

"You know I won't."

"Whatever," You said, rolling your eyes. You fished inside your bag and pulled out your keys, hoping to drop the subject for good. "Did you still wanna hang out and watch Gremlins tonight?"

Robin clapped her hands together a few times, grinning ear to ear. "Yes, absolutely I do, yes, please. I need a break from this shit hole and homework desperately."

"Cool," You said with a smile and a nod, "I'll see you then."

Robin gave you a high five and you left the video store, looking forward to spending some time with her later. Since you hadn't been sleeping well for the last few weeks, you and Robin couldn't seem to agree on a time to have a movie night. Every time she asked about it, you always had to reschedule so you could catch up on sleep.

Not that you ever did.

As you hopped in your car, you thought back to your dream from the night before. It only came to you in fragments now, so all you could really recall was dark, black water, a crimson sky, and the Demogorgon rising from the water to attack Eddie. As you thought more about it, more and more of it came back as you drove to the high school. Your breathing became uneven as you remembered holding Eddie's hand on the edge of the water, staring into his eyes just before everything went dark. Your heart skipped a beat and you tried to clear your head enough to focus on driving.

When you arrived at Hawkins High, class wasn't quite out yet, so you sat in your car for a minute to prepare yourself. Did you really want to do this? You couldn't be sure. Part of you was excited to see him again, while another part of you wanted to throw up at the thought. It was hard to tell which part of you was winning, but either way, you had a bad case of butterflies that wasn't going away any time soon.

Gathering your courage you exited your car, locking it behind you and taking long strides toward the track field. Thankfully the field was vacant, allowing you to sneak down into the woods unnoticed. Your breath formed little clouds in the cold air, making you shiver and zip up your jacket. Brown and orange leaves littered the ground and crunched under your feet as you walked into what you were sure was going to be an absolute disaster of a meet-up.

If he even showed up, of course.

The further you went into the woods, you realized you could hear voices in the distance. You slowed your steps as you approached the voices to avoid revealing yourself. The clearing came into view and sure enough, Eddie was sitting at the old picnic table across from someone in a green and white letterman jacket. You decided to hide behind a nearby tree while the conversation progressed. All you could really hear was Eddie blabbing about "pure bliss in minutes".

Drugs. He was talking about drugs.

Fueled by rage you moved from your hiding spot and into the clearing, staring down the student and folding your arms over your chest. He stared back at you, his cheeks burning bright red and his mouth falling open a bit. Next he began to stutter as Eddie droned on about whatever drug he was trying to sell, digging himself into a deeper hole. When he finally noticed his little customer was staring off into the distance behind him, Eddie turned and his shoulders dropped at the sight of you.

"Y/N-"

"Go home now and I won't tell your parents I saw you here," You said to the kid, setting your jaw. It was an empty threat- you'd never seen that kid in your life, let alone his parents- but it was enough to scare him.

"Y-you wouldn't do that," The kid said, immediately beginning to shake and turning to Eddie. "M-my parents can't know about this, they'll never let me s-stay on the team! She w-wouldn't do that, right, man?"

"You really wanna take that risk?" You asked, shifting your weight.

Eddie gave the kid a nod, gesturing for him to leave as he closed the metal lunch box in front of him. "We can do this another time, k?"

With that, the kid began gathering his things, quickly sprinting from the clearing, not that you were paying attention to him anymore. Your focus was locked on Eddie, who stood from the table, seething. His chest was rising and falling quickly, and you took note of the rings that decorated his tightly closed fists.

"You had no right to do that," He said, his voice shaky from adrenaline. He was taking slow, precise steps toward you, but you held your ground.

"And you have no right selling drugs to children," You said with a shrug, "I'm not the bad guy here, Ed. Targeting the young and vulnerable now, huh? I guess I shouldn't be surprised, you were always really good at being manipulative-"

Before you could keep grilling him, he grabbed you by the shoulders and shoved you backwards until your back hit the base of a tree, the impact softened by your thick jacket. Still, the air left your lungs as he pinned you against the rough bark, a dark look in his eye. Eyes that were still so pretty, a lovely shade of warm sienna in the autumn evening.

Even when he was looking at you like he wanted to murder you where you stood.

"I'm warning you," He muttered, his grip tightening on your shoulders. "If you tell anyone about this-"

"You'll what, Munson?" You challenged, "Not to burst your weird little bubble, but you don't fucking scare me anymore."

Eddie seemed taken aback by your words, his expression faltering and switching from murderous rage to remorse. It didn't last long before he pushed off of you, moving back over the to picnic table and covering his mouth with his hand. You watched him carefully as he lowered himself onto the bench, his back facing you. The chain attached to his tattered jeans clanked loudly against the old wood.

"What are you even doing here?" He asked finally.

You shrugged and slowly walked over to the table, crossing to the side opposite of Eddie to take a seat. "Honestly, I just had to ask you something."

"Oh, Christ," He said with an irritated laugh, "That's it?"

"It was an important question!"

Eddie crossed his arms over his chest and looked you up and down, his lower lip pulled between his teeth. "Well?"

"Okay, I know it sounds weird, but have you, um," You started, "Have you been having, like, weird dreams lately?"

"What?" Eddie asked, unable to hold back his laughter. "That's your important question?"

"Just answer it," You said, losing your patience.

"Jesus, you're pushy. No, I have not been having 'weird dreams'," He said, using air quotes. "Why? Are you trying to curse me in my sleep or something?"

You chewed your lower lip and considered telling him the truth. The thing was, if you did, there was no way he would ever believe a word of it. He already hated your guts, there was no reason for him to believe that you were attacked by an inter-dimensional demon two years ago and now you had vivid nightmares about it every single night.

Lowering your gaze, you shook your head and anxiously toyed with the sleeve of your jacket, pulling at the discolored Sherpa lining on the cuff. "It's nothing, forget I even asked."

"Seriously?" Eddie scoffed, "You said it was an important question! You interrupted a deal for this? God, you really haven't changed one bit, you still love making everything about yourself."

Sadness and anger mingled in your heart, making your chest tighten. How wrong he was, you thought, considering it was really about his safety more than it was your own. If he was having the dreams, too, you would know it meant something was wrong. But it was just you. In a way, that brought at least some relief.

"You know," Eddie went on, wetting his lips. "I used to think you were so cool, like, the coolest person I knew. Then you started hanging out with those assholes, and I realized I was wrong about you."

"You were always wrong about me, Eddie," You said, "Just not in the ways you think you were. Besides, you sell drugs to 'those assholes' now, so I don't think you're in a position to be judging my choices."

With that, you rose from your seat and started to make your escape. You made it to the track field, but Eddie was hot on your heels, grabbing you by the wrist and forcing you to a halt. You stopped in place, shooting him a deadly glare. When you tried to rip your hand away, he held on tighter, pulling you closer in the process.

"What the hell happened to you?" He asked, "You didn't used to be like this."

Unprompted memories of hundreds of saliva-covered fangs adorning a gaping mouth flashed through your mind, a low, gutteral growl accompanying the image. Bodies surrounded by pools of blood and carnage followed suit, making you shiver. For the second time you considered confessing to Eddie what happened to you back at Hawkins Lab, but your gut told you to do otherwise. If Eddie wasn't tied up in Brenner's mess, you wanted to keep it that way.

"I grew up, Eddie," You answered, swallowing hard. "I grew up, and the real world sucks. What happened to me is none of your business."

"Oh come on," Eddie groaned, "I answered your question, didn't I? I gave you the benefit of the doubt, why can't you do the same?"

"Let it go, Eddie," You warned. You fought against his hold which prompted him to grab at your other wrist, holding them both up in front of you. Struggle as you did, he was a lot stronger than he looked. You were closer now, the gap between your bodies smaller than before, so it was a lot harder to avoid eye contact, but you found a way.

"Did someone hurt you?" He asked, to which you responded by shaking your head. "Y/N, I'm serious, if someone did something to you-"

More images of splattered blood and desperate screams clouded your mind.

"-I need you to tell me-"

"You won't believe me!"

Eddie released your wrists and let them fall to your sides, one of his hands coming to rest near your elbow. "I might."

"Why do you even care?" You asked, laughing through tears that threatened to spill out. "You never gave a shit about anything except that stupid game-"

"Hey," Eddie interrupted sternly, both hands on your elbows now. "I always cared. I never stopped caring."

"Bullshit," You spat, "If you cared, you would've been there for me, and you weren't. You can't act like how you treated me was okay. You were my best friend and you gave up on that, not me."

Eddie's mouth fell open as if he had something to say, but clamped shut after a moment. He averted his gaze from you, looking up at the sky and closing his eyes while taking a deep breath, as if he was contemplating something. You pulled out of his grip and took a step back, watching as his head fell forward and he placed his hands on his hips.

The bell rang noisily behind you, startling you both. Not long after, students began slowly filing out from the doors, laughter and shouting filling the air. You turned back to Eddie, who was awkwardly scratching the back of his head and still avoiding your gaze.

"Are we done here?" He asked, clearing his throat. "I have shit to do."

"Yeah," You replied, "We're done here."

#i have two more chapters ready after this one #pls let me know if theyre wanted :)#i have worked so hard on this series lol #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson angst #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #tw blood #tw gore #tw drugs #mywriting #q

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