#ig I’ll make a writing tag in the off chance I ever post more of my writing

[rainbowpufflez]

Bo got one singular note on his last post so here’s Gus and Lys’s breakup scenario he randomly wrote one day

It’s not like Augustine and Lysandre hadn’t had squabbles before. Little things tend to build up in relationships and sometimes things bother someone more than they usually would. But this was the first fight where things got heated. Where something was, different.

Augustine doesn’t remember how it started, what he must’ve said that caused Lysandre’s mood to shift. He remembers watching Lysandre’s muscles stiffen and his gaze go distant, brows furrowing down along with it. He remembers Lysandre making a snide remark, something that implied that Augustine was beneath him. And so it started.

Soon they were both yelling. While they both had issues communicating to each other what they needed, it had never gotten this bad before. They always found a way to calm themselves before exploding. However, they were past that point this time.

Words fell to the floor and meant nothing. Time seemed to stretch on for thousands of years between them. A never ending battle, where Augustine bared his horns in a defensive state and Lysandre squawking out shrilled calls in attempt of explanation.

“You don’t understand!”

Augustine remembers Lysandre choked out. When had they both started crying?

“Oh and how do I not understand?! Have I not been understanding?! Have I not loved you with all my heart and soul?!”

He replied with a harsh gesture back at himself. It felt like there was a ticking time bomb between them and it was on its last second.

Then it slipped out.

“Because I’d KILL for you Augustine. Because I’d DIE for you.”

The room went still.

Before Augustine even could process what was said, he shouted back.

“I NEVER asked you to do that.”

Lysandre took a step back, it seemed he realized what he said as his muscles stiffened again. And Augustine’s response only made it worse. He coiled into himself.

“Augustine, I-“

“Get out.”

He didn’t expect that response. He moved, still stiff. His talons were no longer ready for attack, instead they were opened palm out. A last attempt at solace.

“Augustine please I didn’t mean that—“

“I said get out.”

Augustine was still on defense. His hooves dug into the floor as he stood firm. He didn’t look at his counterpart. He just waited.

“Alright.” Lysandre eventually responded when he realized that it was futile to work it out now. “I’ll leave.”

There was a small shuffle, a collection of things. A bag, his keys, his coat. No words were spoken between the two as he made his way to the door.

As Lysandre reached the door he turned to face Augustine one last time. “Gus… I… I love—“

“Out.”

And so that was that. Lysandre’s brows furrowed down again at his words, not able to hide a bitter, hateful look. He gave a firm nod then swung open the door and left.

Augustine was left in silence in the middle of the room, holding himself in an attempt to not break down. But instead of mustering up any last remaining tears, or truly processing what Lysandre had said, he just felt a wave of exhaustion overcome him.

He found himself falling back on the couch, gripping at a throw pillow with a gaudy checkered design. A design Lysandre hated but he loved.

His energy drained, he found his eyes closing. And with the last remaining energy he wondered.

Had he always been that way?

[brutal-nemesis]

Yeehaw we gettin tagged by @whump-me​ (tyyyy) and posting 7 snippets from our writing (or wips but i am a wipless bastard atm 🤪) and i have decided to do some Silly Castys Moments (and also some Erebus stuff ig 🙄)

Warning for some gore probably it’s Nemi writing so yk but I’ll try to keep the really bad stuff outta here (there also some armputation and guy going crazy and starving to death over and over you know the drill)

1. Local silly guy does in fact regret it very much

“I don’t really want you, per se, but a certain…friend of yours.” Castys stiffened, and he heard a faint laugh. “I think you know who I’m talking about.”

“I really don’t. I’ve got a lot of friends, you know, and-” something slammed into the metal above him, cutting him off.

“Don’t play dumb with me; you know exactly who I’m talking about, and you’d better tell me where I can find him or I’ll make you regret it.”

“Please, do your worst. I already regret so many damn things so I don’t think another one on the pile will do much to me, to be honest,” Castys mused, wiggling against his bonds slightly.

2. The worst fmk in existence gets you stabbed

“Hey, guys, fuck, marry, kill for rice, pasta, and bread, go. I think for me, I gotta say fuck bread, marry rice, kill pasta. Don’t get me wrong, I love some noodles, some noods, but, like, man. Have you ever just, like, had some bread? Insane. I would fuck bread. I don’t wanna fuck anything, but boy I would fuck the bread. And rice, man, she’s so dependable, she’s always there for you. What I would want in a spouse if I wanted anything in a spouse. This game wasn’t really designed for me, and yet, here I am. So, c’mon, what’s it from you two? You’ve gotta have-Hey, Danny boy, got an opinion you’d like to share?” Castys smiled up at the man now standing in front of him.

Daniel rolled his eyes before putting his asshole face back on. “Just do something useful for once and hold this for me, vermin,” he said with a smile, lifting Castys’s shirt and gently sliding the knife he was holding into his abdomen. Castys just sighed, way too used to being stabbed to really care much about this.

3. Ripping your arm off but it’s a Phineas and Ferb reference (this one is probably the most gory of all the snippets fyi but it’s not too bad)

Sensing his chance, Castys grabbed the manacled wrist of his shredded arm with his good hand, bit down on the gag, and pulled. He couldn’t give up, couldn’t stop, not after enduring this much, he could feel his flesh tearing, sending out sparks of agony unlike anything he’d ever known, and he had to keep pulling, pulling and jerking and tearing and twisting and praying, praying that he could rip it off before he drowned again, which, hey, kind of a weird thing to want, not that he hadn’t had to amputate his own limbs before, but weird that it was happening again, and honestly, this hurt way more than the other times, but wasn’t that always the case-and fuck there was no way he was going to be able to just snap his bones like this, and he needed it to be completely severed, and there was no time, wedge it against the rocks and pull pull pull until there was a snap and a burst of unholy agony, so intense it almost smothered the relief, so fierce it made him forget he was drowning up until the moment his oxygen-starved brain lost consciousness.

4. Lmaoooo bitches trapped in a cell for like 200 years

Every three days. Thirst. Weakness. Dizziness. Death. Was it three days? Is that how long you could last without water? He tried to count, but the numbers got lost in the haze all too easily. There was no way to mark the stone, to keep track outside of his head, the blood wasn’t being washed off him anymore. He had nothing, nothing at all, just here and himself and the unyielding stone. The square of sunlight would move across the cell, the only motion to break the constancy of everything else. It was the same day repeated over and over and over and over and over and it was the same just the same nothing ever changed, ever, ever, it was the same-

Something wasn’t the same. The leather muzzle that had kept him silent for so long had been slowly rotting, and it finally fell off. For a moment he simply stared at it lying there on the ground, broken, dying, fading away. He opened his mouth for the first time in decades. And he screamed, because that thing got to rot away and disappear and he wouldn’t, he would always be here, hungry and thirsty and alone and trapped and alive and it wasn’t fair, not at all, and he screamed because it had been so long since he was able, he cried because it was all he could do.

5. Erebus’s iconic sit down protest ✨ (it does not accomplish anything in the end)

“You are coming with me. As of today you are my property, so you will do as I say. Resistance will only make things more difficult for you. So you will walk, or you will be dragged. Your choice.” Erebus initially felt a bolt of fear shoot through him, but looking down at her scrawny frame, he realized that she likely couldn’t carry out her threat.

Dragged? He’d like to see her try.

Erebus sat down on the ground and looked expectantly up at Neteri, one eyebrow raised. She huffed and narrowed her eyes. Planting her feet firmly on the ground, she tugged on the chain as hard as she could, but it did little more than make him lean forward. She sighed. “Okay, you have a point there.”

6. More Erebus and Neteri shenanigans because she’s right he’s being a drama queen

“You can’t just do that! That’s-you can’t just amputate my arm!”

“See, this is why I didn’t want to tell you. I knew you’d freak out.”

“Of-of course I’m freaking out! You want to cut off one of my limbs, for Drottkia’s sake!”

“I mean, yeah, but I’m going to give you a new one right away. So at the end of the day you’ll have the same number of arms you started with. It’s honestly not worth getting that worked up about.”

7. New phobia alert!! (warning for centipede on guy)

He felt it, it was on him, dozens of little legs pitter-pattering across his skin, crawling on him. “G-get it off. Neteri, please, please get it off.” It tickled the back of his neck, around the base of the section of skin she’d replaced. “What’s it doing Neteri plea-” she clamped a hand over his mouth, her thumb rubbing against his cheek as he whimpered.

“Shh, shh, you’re okay Erebus. I’m just seeing if it can connect to you, I promise I’ll take it off when I’m done.” Connect to him?! What-what did that mean-oh it had stopped crawling around it was just sitting there it was on his back what was it going to do to him what did connecting mean was it-Erebus felt a momentary pinch at the base of his neck, and suddenly his limbs starting moving, wriggling in the restraints all on their own. Neteri removed her hand from his mouth and looked down at him expectantly, her other hand still gripping his tightly even as his fingers twitched uncontrollably. “Are you doing that?”

“N-no I-I’m not moving I’m not doing that why are they doing that I can’t stop it is it doing that to me make it stop make it let go please-” Tears were streaming from Erebus’s eyes but he didn’t care he just wanted that thing off he wanted it gone he wanted control of his own body back he’d always had that even when he was tied up and strapped down he’d always had that-

And there we go hope that either a fun time on memory lane or at least made you laugh a little

Taggin uhhhh @galaxywhump @yet-another-heathen and @painsandconfusion (mainly because i know you will want to read the Castys content 💕)

[outerbankspreferences]

50 Wordless Ways to say I love you

Word Count: 1683

MASTERLIST SERIES MASTERLIST

A/N: Every time I sit down to write a shirt blurb it always turns out long. Every time I sit down to write a long blurb it always turns out long. I can’t seem to win. I’m always taking request, and message me if you wanted to get added to the tag list :)

#14. Singing and dancing to their favorite song.

  It was Madison Bailey’s birthday coming up and you had started a tradition last season on everyone birthday to make them a cake of their choice. You always loved baking and found it therapeutic and soothing. You and Madison were roommates while filming season two of the show, and you kicked her out of the apartment so you could surprise her.

You asked Drew to come over and help considering him, and Austin lived in the same building. In all honest, the two living in the same apartment worked out great for you because you had a huge crush on Drew. You had since you meet him at the beginning of filming season one. Your characters were love interest, and at first you didn’t know if the lines of acting were getting hazy, but you soon realized it wasn’t. You had some serious feelings for him, but you were too nervous he didn’t like you back.

 You were greasing the pans for the cake when you heard a knock on your door, and then was greeted by Drew. “What’s cooking good looking?” He laughed kissing the top of your head, giving you butterflies. “Only the best birthday cake in the entire world.” You said in a half serious tone, “where’s your partner in crime?” You asked looking for Austin. “Uh-he went to play basketball with JD, so just me and you are today. Is that okay?” He asked walking over to your speaker. A whole afternoon just to two of you, of course you were okay with that. “Yeah sure, did you download that playlist I showed you?” You asked, the two of you having similar taste in music.

 “Of course, I did, I don’t know how you find such good playlist.” He said turning on the music, “so how can I help?” “Well, do you know how to bake Drew?” You asked, have never done this with him before. “I would rate myself like a seven and a half out of ten” He said confident. “Okay, well why don’t you measure all the ingredients, and put them into these little bowls so I can post something cute to my Instagram and then we’ll get started.” You said handing him the recipe with the measurements.

 You preheated the oven and got the stuff together for the frosting. You prepped all the pipping bags and sprinkles in Madison favorite colors. “Did you get Madison something for her birthday?” Drew was the first to break the comfortable silence. “I did, I got her a gift certificate for a spa place for her and Mariah this weekend.” You told him proud of your gift. “Shit, I forgot to her something, I’ve so busy filming, do you know what she wants?” He asked. “Um- she broke her Bluetooth speaker last week, maybe get her that? That’s why we’ve been stuck using my crappy one.” You said laughing finishing get your stuff together. “Okay, are you done with the measuring?” You asked, looking over his shoulder. “You know that’s a good idea, do you want to come with me when we’re done this?�� He asked moving out the way so you could see he finished.

 “I would love that.” You say grabbing your phone and taking a picture of Drew’s hard work, adding a cute filter before posting it to your Instagram. “You know she’s going to see your “Why are you posting that your IG story, she’ll know that’s what you’re making.” Drew said not understanding why you were taking a picture. “I know she’ll see it, that’s why I made cookies earlier. She’ll think I was making those and not her birthday cake.” You explained, grabbing some bowls to mix the stuff in. “Okay, you mix the wet ingredients together, and I’ll mix the dry and then we combine them together in the end.” You explained handing him bowl. “Why can’t we just mix everything in one bowl, you’re making more of mess.” He asked looking down at you, “uh-I don’t know, you just can’t. Those are the rules Andrew.” You responded sarcastically. “Oh god, not the full name. Remind me not to question your authority again.” He said shoving you shoulder playful.

 Drew loved to hear you say his full name, normally it was something he despised but not with you. He was excited when you offered for him and Austin to come over and help bake the cake. When you asked him the day before you told him the Austin was welcome too. Normally Madison would help you, but you didn’t want to ruin the surprise. He didn’t invite Austin though, wanting to spend as much time alone together as you could. He would take any chance he could whether it be running lines, watching a movie, carpooling to work.

 Everyone in the cast knew you guys had a thing for each other and encouraged the both of you to make a move, but nether of you did. Drew nor you ever thought you guys would have chance with each other. So, you guys would just spend time together, dancing around feelings, and awkward moments.

 As you guys finished mixing the ingredients together you poured the batter and put it into the oven. “Okay, that should take about twenty minutes to bake and then we can make the frosting while it’s cooling.” You said grabbing some of the dishes putting them in the dishwasher. “Who taught you how to bake?” Drew asked, curious on how the habit started. You smile thinking about your childhood. You turned around to face him, leaning against the counter. “My mom taught me. When I was kid, she used to bake all the time. If it weren’t someone’s birthday, she would say they’re ‘I love you’ cakes. I guess after that I always found joy in it. I know it’s kind of cliche girl thing, but”- “No I like that you do stuff like this, it’s not cliché.” Drew said cutting you off before you could bad mouth your favorite pass time.

 That’s when your favorite song on the playlist came on. Drew looked over at you, knowing it was your favorite. He loved seeing the light in eyes when ever it came on. “Ugh, I love this song” you say humming along to the words while looing at your phone. Drew got up from the chair he was sitting on, and grabbed your hand pulling you close to dance with him. “I know, that’s why I added it to the queue, come dance with me.” The two of you danced like idiots while you sang to the song. Drew spun you around, and you almost tripped and fell but he caught you, the two of you giggling. You looked into his eyes, the two of you close enough you could feel his breath on your face. ‘Just do it, kiss him’ you thought to yourself, and the next thing you know, you’re closing the small gap between you two.

 Drew was shocked at first, not believing he was kissing you. Your lips were softer than he had expected, and they tasted like raspberries, most likely from your lip balm. He placed his hands on your hips, pulling you closer kissing you back. You guys made out for a couple more minutes before you pulled away from lack of air. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me”- you started to stumble over your words when Drew leaned down and kissed you again. “it’s okay Y/N/N, I’ve been wanting to kiss you for while I just didn’t think you felt the same way for me.” He said with a little grin.

 You couldn’t believe you waited that long to show him how you felt, and now that you had you were glad, he felt the same way. “I was worried that you didn’t feel the same way, I didn’t want to make things awkward between us.” You said almost in whisper, a blush creeping on your cheeks. Drew leaned down and kissed you again, “of course I feel the same about you. How could I not? You’re such an amazing person.” His kind words causing a blush to form again. You hid you face in his chest, making him laugh.

 The two of you were pulled away from your conversation when the timer went off for the cake. “Oh, it’s ready!” Drew said rushing over to the oven taking the cakes out. “I’ll grab the stuff to start making the frost, and you can take the cakes out of the oven.” You directed. “Yes chef.” Drew saluted you in joking matter. Once he took the cakes out, you tested it with a knife to make sure it was cooked all the way through. You cut a bit off the top to make sure it tasted okay, giving a piece to Drew.

 Once you took a bit you immediately made a face, the cake tasted terrible. You looked at Drew trying to judge his reaction, laughing when he made the same face you did. “I don’t mean to be an asshole, but this taste terrible Y/N/N.” You grabbed the recipe off the counter and read the instruction. “I don’t understand I made this recipe a hundred times, it always turns out good. Three cups of flour, a teaspoon of vanilla, two teaspoons of salt, a”- “did you just say two teaspoons of salt?” Drew asked with wide eyes. “Yeah, why how much did you put in?” “Uh, well I though it meant tablespoon, so I put two tablespoons of salt.” He said rubbing the back of his neck cheeks turning red.

 You start to laugh at him, finding his embarrassment hilarious. “Oh, come on love it’s not that funny.” He says wrapping his arms around you from behind. “Don’t worry I can bake.” You say mocking him. “I guess Madison is getting a store-bought cake this year.” You say turning around kissing him. “At least I can kiss better then I can bake.” He said making the both of you laugh.

TAGLIST:

lemur46  

fttayla

drewstarkeysbitchh

[bucksbisexual]

don’t take away my breath too soon

also on ao3

part 1 / 2 (coming soon)

Summary: Sarawat had to win this game, he was sure of it.

Words: 1948

Tags: #First Kiss, #inspired by a scene in whyru ep12 !, #the bet exists but they don’t really give a fuck about it, #basically i wrote ep8 the way the gays wanted it, #just kidding i cant write for a living, #confident gay tine, #me vs writing tine as anything other than a confident gay, #ep9 who? i only know success

"Well, how about this?" Fong started. "If you win, my friend will post the love confession to your friend," Man smirked, "but if your team loses, your friend has to leave my friend alone," Fong said. "Deal?"

Tine didn't know why this was happening, but he didn't like it.

Yes, he hadn't told his friends that Sarawat had already kissed him twice and they basically confessed to each other after not being able to stand being far from each other for three days, but, even then, they had no saying in his relationship with Sarawat. The same Sarawat that had only been looking at him ever since they got there and who Tine thought his eyes were telling him that no bet would stop him, not that Tine wanted him to.

"I think," Sarawat spoke, "your friend here is going to have to prepare a sweet love confession."

Tine wanted to punch his face, but instead, he shot a glance at Sarawat, sighed and left.

He'd deal with his friends later. For now, he had a pillow to scream at waiting back home.

-------

Almost a whole week had passed since then and Tine's friends mentioned their bet in almost all their conversations and, to be honest, Tine was nothing but tired of it.

They were going to Jae Tun's bar after finishing their last class and, of course, the bet was mentioned. His friends started talking about how good the Engineering football team was and how Political Science's football team had no chance against them and blah, blah, blah. Tine didn't care, he had heard this at least 25 times since he greeted them that same morning, and he was really fucking tired.

"Guys, I'm going to the bathroom. Don't wait for me, I'll catch up to you later," Tine announced, trying to get away from hearing the same arguments for the 26th time in less than 24 hours.

"Sure, do we order for you?" Peuk asked.

"No need," Tine smiled and left to the bathroom. Thankfully they weren't that far away from the university building so he could take his time before turning to the conversation he had heard for way too many times.

Tine started thinking, did the bet really matter? He knew that some stupid bet wouldn't stop Sarawat or would slow down his heart whenever Sarawat came too close to him. He wasn't ready to confess his love for Sarawat to the whole world and less when there were thousands of Sarawat fans that would pay for his head the moment he did. But, on the other hand, Tine was ready to tell Sarawat he liked him, because, yes, he did. It had taken him two kisses and some time, but he liked Sarawat. He liked his stupid perfect hair and his stupid collection of sandals he wore everywhere instead of normal shoes and his stupid flirting attempts than definitely did not make him blush every time and his stupid eyes that sparkled whenever he talked about music and his stupid lips, the ones he had dreamt about for weeks and had wished of tasting all of his life.

He was stupidly in love with Sarawat and since Tine didn't want to risk losing Sarawat over some dumb bet, he had to make sure he didn't lose.

As he got closer to the bathroom, he saw someone sitting on the floor grabbing his side in what looked like pain. Tine, worried, walked faster to see if the person was seriously injured, only for worry to completely wash over him.

"Wat?"

Tine heard a sniff and hurried over to where Sarawat was sitting, with a sweaty face and a drop of blood coming from his lip. The sight broke Tine's heart, who could do this to him?

"What happened?" Sarawat didn't respond and Tine gently touched his chin and made Sarawat look at him. Tine tried to find the answer in his eyes but Sarawat lowered down his head. Since it looked like there wouldn't be an answer any time soon, Tine decided to take Sarawat home so he could at least take care of his wounds somewhere safe.

"Can you get up? Does it hurt that much?" Tine put Sarawat's arm around his shoulder and tried lifting him up, only for Sarawat to kneel in pain and shake his head.

"It hurts," his voice was full of pain and Tine promised himself he would punch whoever did this to Sarawat.

"Let's try getting up slowly. We can test if you can walk and if not, I can take you home on my back," Sarawat looked at him like he was nuts.

"You realise I'll break your back if you do, right?"

"I do cheerleading, dumbass, I can easily carry you. You're not even heavy to begin with," Ever since he had started cheerleading, P'Fang's strict training had movitaved Tine to start working out and he had definitely stronger arms and legs than when he first started university a few months ago.

Sarawat didn't answer and instead tried getting up again. Tine lowered his arm to grab Sarawat's hip and without much effort got him on his feet.

"Try taking some steps. Don't worry, I got you," Tine's tone was so sweet his ears blushed a bit. Thankfully if Sarawat noticed, Tine didn't see any reactions.

"Don't wanna," Sarawat said cutely and, wait, was he pouting?

Tine couldn't believe him. Was he flirting with him when less than 5 minutes ago he was sitting all alone crying and in pain? He truly was in love with a dumbass.

"C'mon saraleo, just try. If you truly can't, I'll carry you home."

Sarawat pouted again and Tine's heart almost couldn't take it. How could he look cute even like this? This world was unfair.

Tine sighed. He had weaknesses and, according to his accelerating heart, this was one of them.

"Fine, I'll carry you." Tine moved the arm he had around Sarawat's hip and, lowering himself a bit, he turned his back to Sarawat.

Just as he expected, Sarawat was a light weight in his back. He seriously needed to eat more, Tine was worried that with everything going in the music club and his classes, Sarawat skipped meals and didn't eat enough.

They were probably halfway there when Tine's legs complained. Look, in his defense, he skipped a few leg days because he hated the stiffness from the day after. It eventually came back to him when his legs started hurting and he decided they should sit and rest for a few minutes until his legs didn't hurt as much.

Once they were both seated, Tine noticed he had tissues in his pocket and he washed off some of the blood in Sarawat's lip.

"Who did this to you?" Tine asked, hoping he'd finally get an answer. Sarawat looked away from Tine.

"The same group as before," as what?! "just because their girlfriends liked my IG posts." That's really stupid. "What a stupid reason."

Only Sarawat's soft voice made Tine control himself and not scream at Sarawat, "you've been hit before? How is it that I'm getting to know about this just now?"

"I didn't want you to worry," Sarawat looked into his eyes and Tine almost got hooked on them, had it not been for the blood coming out of his lip again.

He patted the tissue against the side of his lips, careful to not hurt him, "Who is worried about you? I'm just afraid you will die young, that's all. You have to tell me from now on whenever you have a problem. Get it?"

Sarawat looked down. "Got it."

Tine softly patted the tissue again.

"It's okay," Sarawat grabbed his hand, "you can stop."

Tine looked at their hands and then at Sarawat, only to find him looking at the tissue in his hand.

"It's not that bad," Sarawat took a deep breath.

And he rested his head on Tine's shoulder.

Tine's heart was not going to make it.

Oh my god, this boy is going to be the death of me.

"It's way better like this, the pain is gone," Tine truly hoped Sarawat couldn't hear his heartbeat from his shoulder as he hugged his arm because he would not survive the teasing.

"What's with you?" his voice was barely a murmur.

No answer came from Sarawat for a few seconds and then, he grabbed his boob.

What the fuck.

He couldn't even question what just happened before Sarawat answered him, "You just healed me."

"You're such a pervert," Sarawat just smiled at him and Tine couldn't even pretend he was mad or fight the smile in his lips, he looked too cute like that.

"Now I don't mind getting beaten up more often if it means I'll have you here to heal me."

Sarawat truly didn't have any empathy for Tine's heart.

"What if I get attacked when I leave my house tomorrow? Can you... sleep over at my place tonight?" Sarawat looked so innocent Tine almost accepted immediatly, but he remembered he didn't have any of his clothes or basic necessities with him and his friends were still waiting for him.

"I don't have anything with me, though."

"It's okay, you can wear my clothes." Tine wondered if sleeping in Sarawat's clothes and being surrounded by his scent would make him like him more. Probably yes. "You can even use my toothbrush, I don't care."

Tine sighed. He wasn't going to give up, wasn't he?

"Fine, I'll stay," Sarawat rested his head on his shoulder again with a big smile. "But I will go home to get my things, I don't want to use your disgusting toothbrush."

"Yes babe," Sarawat said in the cutest way possible and Tine's ears blushed.

"Dickhead," Sarawat chuckled and turned to look at Tine.

"Do you still have my football jersey?"

"Yeah, I'll give it back to you when I come back from-"

"No need, I have another one at home. But I do want you to wear it and cheer for me at the game, will you?" Sarawat's puppy eyes were too much for Tine and he forced himself to look away. He shouldn't look this cute with a bruise in his face. "If you come wearing my jersey and football shorts, I will have enough strength to beat Engineering."

Tine couldn't help but smile at Sarawat's expression. I'm so in love with this stupid boy. "Why do I need to do that, huh?"

The smile that flourished afterwards was one Tine hoped Sarawat didn't see.

"Let's get going, it's getting dark and I still need to go home to get my things," Tine put his hand on Sarawat's knee.

Sarawat looked between Tine's hand and his eyes, "I already told you you can use my things, I don't mind."

Tine rose up, "But I do, so get up or else I won't carry you home and you will have to go there in your miserable state."

"Carry me, pretty please?" Sarawat used that cute tone again from before and Tine damned not having thick skin because he felt his cheeks burning. He was sure Sarawat had seen his effect on him and avoided looking at his direction.

"Hm." Sarawat got up by himself and Tine lowered himself so Sarawat could get up. They didn't have that much of a height difference but Tine didn't want him to get hurt by jumping or whatever.

Thankfully, they got to Sarawat's home in one piece and Sarawat decided to shower as soon as he arrived, so Tine left him a post-it note saying he was going home to get everything he needed and left Sarawat's.

[writings-andstuff]

Coincidences Part I (Bucky x Reader)

Okay, so this is me attempting at one of those “I texted you by accident and we ended up talking and I actually think you’re a pretty decent human being” tropes. I don’t know how it’s going to work out because this is the first time I’m doing something like this, but I dunno.  Maybe it’ll be cool. 

Anyways. 

Without further ado: Happy Reading!

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Modern AU if that’s what its called)

Words: 4259

Warnings: I mean, swearing a little. But none other than that. 

Excerpt:  Blowing a sigh through your nose, you realize you probably should just leave it alone and not answer at all. Then again, you are slightly curious to at least find out who texted you. They obviously thought they were talking to someone else, so it couldn’t hurt to maybe steer them in a different direction. Maybe.

*After writing this first part, I have determined that this is going to have to be a multi-part fic. Yeah. This got away from me, but I’m gonna try to post the parts in succession. 

Tagging: @langinator @beccaanne814-blog @fairchild21 

Series Tags: @melanie451 @sebstanwassup @colagirl5 @winenighthoe @hillrich @gotnotfeature

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New Message from: Unknown

3:32 p.m hey u still wanna get that drink sometime? 

You stare at your phone in confusion. What the hell? Last you could remember, you hadn’t given any stranger your phone number, and you certainly hadn’t agreed to any drinks. 

Blowing a sigh through your nose, you realize you probably should just leave it alone and not answer at all. Then again, you are slightly curious to at least find out who texted you. They obviously thought they were talking to someone else, so it couldn’t hurt to maybe steer them in a different direction. Maybe.

You glance at the clock perched above the doorway to the kitchen. It’s after 3:30 so, technically, you aren’t due for a break for another half hour. The diner is pretty quiet, though, so maybe it won’t hurt to just slip out for a little bit. 

The door to the kitchen creaks as you open it, throwing your apron up onto the hook and casting a frown at Nat, who is sitting on a stool, scrolling through her phone. Man, is she lucky that the manager had to take the day off. At the griddle toward the back, Wanda is humming as she flips a grilled cheese. 

“I’m taking my break early,” you declare to your friends. Nat barely acknowledges you, nodding once and making you want to pull her phone from her hands and hide it from her. Ever since she’d begun dating Clint, she’d been stuck to her phone like glue to paper. You raise a solitary eyebrow. 

Wanda turns from her grilled cheese and leans against the counter. “It’s early.”

You nod. “I know, but it’s dead out there.”

“Pete?”

You smile. “Of course.” 

Peter Parker had been coming into the diner a few days a week after school to do his homework and pick up dinner for his aunt after his uncle died. It happened so often, that the manager actually offered him a job, but he declined, saying that he already had one and that he didn’t want to spend any more time away from his Aunt May than he already did. 

Wanda turns back to the griddle and pulls the grilled cheese from it with her spatula. She sticks the grilled cheese in a foam container and closes it. 

“Is that for him?” you ask. Wanda simply nods, walking over to the desert display and cutting a piece of cheesecake off, putting it in another, smaller container, and putting both in a bag. 

“You never saw me do that,” she warns you, as she walks toward the door to the kitchen, bag in hand. There’s a challenge in her tone that you’re definitely not going to indulge. 

You look around the room with a thoughtful expression on your face, before landing back on her with a questioning tilt of the head and knit brows. “I never saw you do what?”

She grins at you and pushes through the door with her back, turning expertly just as the door is about to open fully, and holding it with her elbow as she walks out. 

When you turn back, Nat’s finally looking up and away from her phone. 

“Look who decided to join us,” you joke, walking forward toward the back exit. 

“She’s a softie,” Nat says, looking through the window at Wanda, who is handing a grinning Pete the bag with a finger to her lips. “She knows she’s going to have to pay for that, right?”

You shrug. “The kid’s been through a lot, and everyone loves cheesecake.”

“Not me,” Nat says, looking up at you where you stand to her right. 

“You’re weird,” you shrug a single shoulder. “I’ll be back.”

You make it about halfway down the hall before Nat calls out for you again. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

You don’t answer. Nat wouldn’t answer a strange text message. Nat wouldn’t even acknowledge said text message. Maybe you shouldn’t either. But the curiosity is killing you. Forget the cat, it has nine lives. You don’t, and if you don’t find out who this is, you’re going to die. Definitely. 

It’s obviously not going to be anyone you know, because the number is unknown, and part of you knows that. The irrational part of you is winning out, though, and you can’t help it. Don’t want to. 

It takes another ten minutes of contemplation, of writing and re-writing a text, to actually get to the point where you say, “Fuck it,” and send it off. 

3:48 p.m Uh. who is this 

Damn, you forgot a question mark. Should you send one? No, double texting is weird. Then again—

Your phone buzzes in your hand and you frown down at it. The sun is too bright right now and your phone screen looks more like a mirror than an open message. You cup your hand above your eyes, against your eyebrows, to block the sun and squint at the screen until you’re sure you can possibly make out the words in the little gray bubble on the screen. 

3:49 p.m its james

You suck in a breath. James. You definitely don’t know a James. Does he think you know him? Probably, or he wouldn’t be asking about getting that drink. Obviously, it was an aforementioned thing, but not with you. 

Another few minutes of quiet contemplation in which you figure out what you should say, landing on something neutral and truthful.

3:54 p.m I don’t know any James’

Shit. Is he gonna know that the apostrophe means that you don’t know any people named James, plural? What if he thinks it’s a typo? That’s two typos in a row—

Your phone buzzes again and you narrow your eyes at his response.

3:55 p.m we met at that cafe a few weeks ago and you gave me your number

Nope, never happened. And you’re going to tell him so. 

3:57 p.m i think i’d remember if i met someone in a cafe and gave them my number. Any chance you got a false one?

The response is immediate and arrogant. 

3:57 p.m no chance

For a moment, you’re not sure what to say to that. Should you call him out on his arrogance? Should you just stop talking to him altogether? Should you keep trying to convince him that you definitely never met him in some weird cafe?

The last one sounds best, but it is a stranger—you’ll never meet him—and you really wanna call him on his shit. 

3:59 p.m big talk for a guy who most definitely got a fake number

This time, the response takes a few minutes, as if he’s had to read it a few times and then formulate a response. You smile to yourself, convinced you won that one and then confused because when did this turn into a competition? You never get to call people out like that because you’re always too scared of the repercussions, so you usually just keep your mouth shut. But a stranger through a phone is different waters altogether. 

4:04 p.m so…ur not dot?

It took him five minutes to say that? 

4:04 p.m no

4:05 p.m then…who r u?

Should you do it? Should you tell him your name? Based on the area code, he lives around you, which is weirdly coincidental. There’s always a chance this is a scam or something, but he does seem pretty confused. It took him five minutes to figure out he’d been duped and you were telling the truth, so…. 

There’s also always the off chance that he’s been in the diner and has seen you. 

Then again, he might never see you or meet you. It’s Brooklyn. A pretty big place to just randomly run into a person you accidentally texted. Still, you don’t want to give him your real name. You do what any sane person would do: you give him your middle name.

4:08 p.m Y/M/N

4:09 p.m oh thank god

You frown.

4:09 p.m ?

4:10 p.m u r a girl, right?

4:10 p.m i kno you didn’t just assume my gender

Fuck, the w is missing from know. Oh well. This one must have him stumped again, because his response doesn’t come for long enough that you think he’s busy or something, until it comes in. 

4:16 p.m uh, no?

4:17 p.m Relax. I am. And you’re a guy, I presume?

4:18 p.m look whos assuming now

You’re slightly offended that your joke just backfired so badly. You inwardly cringe and look back down at your phone, breath ghosting over the screen in the frigid air. Damn, you forgot your coat inside. Wiping the condensation off the screen from your frozen breath, you quickly type back. 

4:20 p.m Certainly not me. I’m presuming. Different. Also, what girl has the name James?

4:20 p.m Jamie

4:21 p.m different

4:21 p.m touche. im a dude

You’re indifferent about the answer, but you realize why he was a little freaked out at the possibility of you being a guy: the first thing he’d texted you had been asking you out for drinks. Then again, now you were assuming sexuality. But he had thought he’d been asking out someone named Dot, and that seems like a pretty feminine name. 

Ugh. Your head hurts.

You sigh, unsure of what to say next. Turns out, you don’t have to think about it too much because he texts you a moment later. A double text.

4:23 p.m sorry if this is wierd. yknow. txting a stranger

You’re smiling, and at first you’re not sure why, until you realize it’s because he’s misspelled weird. As much as you don’t want to be annoying, you can’t let it go. 

4:23 p.m weird*

4:24 p.m ohhh we have a grammar nazi

4:24 p.m i don’t know what you’re talking about

4:25 p.m you just corrected me

4:25 p.m totally didn’t. I was echoing you

4:26 p.m what about the * 

4:26 p.m autocorrect

4:27 p.m mhmm sure and I was born in 1917

4:28 p.m man you’re old

4:29 p.m srryy duno wht u sid cant see thu my catarcs

It’s at this point that you’re covering your mouth with a freezing hand, laughing your ass off. This James, whoever he is, is hilarious. You grin at the screen as you type your answer, before noting the time. You’ve got to get back to work. At this point, you have been talking to James for almost an hour, give or take ten minutes or so. 

You have to admit, your break flew by faster than any of your breaks ever had. 

4:30 p.m alright mr. cat arcs. I have to get back to work. it was strangely fun talking to you

4:31 p.m wats tht deery

Just to piss him off:

4:31 p.m dearie*

4:31 p.m oH its on, grammar nazi

4:32 p.m look who’s suddenly been cured of his cataracts*

The next text isn’t a message but a picture—a screenshot to be precise. He’s saved your number to his phone with the contact name Gramar Nazi. You laugh, but there’s a strange, excited feeling in your chest that makes you grin stupidly.

He’s saved your number to his phone. Does this mean he’s going to text you again? Does he want to? If you’re being honest, you want him to. 

Still grinning like an idiot, hands numb from the cold, you save his number to your contacts as Mr. Catarcs and take a screenshot of it. 

4:34 p.m grammar* 

Then you send him the screenshot of his contact. 

4:35 p.m lol see u later grammar nazi

The door behind you swings open and Nat’s standing there, frown on her face. You let your phone drop to your side as she knits her brows at you.

“You forgot your coat,” she says, as if that isn’t obvious enough. “Also, your half hour break was up half an hour ago. The dinner rush is going to start soon.”

You nod. “Yeah, I know. I’ll be in in a sec.”

Her frown deepens, if that’s even possible, and she tilts her head at the phone in your hand, still open to the message between you and James. She nods at it.

“Who’re you talking to?”

“No one.”

She eyes you suspiciously but doesn’t say anything, opting to prop the door open with the wooden wedge. You totally forgot to put that in when you came out here. It’s a good thing Nat came to get you or you’d have to walk all the way around to the front. 

Finally, Nat retreats back into the relative warmth of the diner. 

You shoot a really quick text back to James before entering the establishment:

4:38 p.m later cat arcs

4:38 p.m wah

You laugh, but don’t respond as you walk down the back hall toward the kitchen. What are you getting yourself into? Who knows, but he’s funny, and everyone knows you need a little more funny in your life. So you push your phone into your back pocket and pull your apron over your head, trying to rid your mind of James and failing miserably. 

When you finally get home after switching out with the graveyard shift, you’re exhausted and ready to just fall into bed. 

Instead, you peel off your clothes—which smell unpleasantly of french fry grease and coffee—and shower away the diner stink. It’s while you’re getting yourself dressed again that you remember James. You’d been so busy that he’d been pushed to the back of your mind during the dinner rush and hadn’t re-appeared since. Until now. 

You sigh and pull on a pair of leggings and a T-shirt before checking the clock. 8:08 p.m. Perfect. 

You grab the only other key on the key rack in the kitchen and exit your apartment, locking the door and walking a few steps down the hall to the apartment next door. 

Unlocking the door, you don’t even check to see if he’s home and opt instead to collapse onto his couch. Sure enough, you hear a deep voice down the hall talking on the phone. He doesn’t even know you’re here. 

You met Steve Rogers—what was it?—two years ago? Probably somewhere around there. The two of you were just out of college and just beginning to live on your own. Steve, who had moved in a few weeks before you, had helped you unpack almost all of your boxes. You’d gone on to learn that he was an art major starting his own studio and that he had lived in Brooklyn his whole life. After finishing college, he’d decided to move out into an apartment not too far from his childhood home.  

You couldn’t say the same thing. You’d lived your whole life in Manhattan, with its annoying cabs and its bright lights. Miss it desperately. 

It takes Steve at least five more minutes to come out into the main living room, still on the phone. 

“—g deal.” A pause. He makes his way into the kitchen, barefoot and wearing sweats. He still hasn’t seen you. “I’m sure it’s not, Buck. You’re overreacting.” Another pause. Now that he’s in the kitchen, he’s facing the counter, which faces the couch. 

His eyes widen when he finally sets eyes on you and he frowns, mouthing, “What’re you doing here?” 

You shrug and mouth back, “Bored.”

He smiles and waits for Bucky to finish talking to him over the phone. “Y/N’s here.” Pause. “Yeah.” Pause. He pulls the phone away from his cheek for a moment to address you. “Bucky wants to know if you enjoy breaking and entering.” Of course he knows you’ve just waltzed in unannounced; you’ve done it before.

You scoff and hold a hand to your chest in mock offense. “I’m offended! It’s not breaking and entering if I have a key,” you say holding up said shiny item. It glints in the poor lighting of the apartment. 

Steve repeats what you said back to Bucky, who says something else. “No, I’m not—” a deep sigh. “Fine.” He looks at you again. “Bucky wants to know what you’d do if I was ‘with someone’?”

You raise your eyebrows. “Like Peggy?”

Steve blushes almost imperceptibly, but you catch it, and he nods once. 

You shrug. “Leave.”

“Leave,” Steve parrots to Bucky, who must say something on the other line that Steve doesn’t like, because he shakes his head vigorously, despite the fact that Bucky can’t see him. “You’re gross, Buck.” 

You tilt your head. 

“Bucky wants to—”

Groaning, you pull yourself up from the couch, walk into the kitchen, and pluck the phone from Steve without giving him a chance to protest. 

The line crackles for a moment, as if Bucky has been driving and has just gone under a tunnel, but it clears up in another moment, and you breathe into the receiver. 

“That was annoying,” you say. “What does Bucky wanna tell me?”

Bucky laughs. “Bucky would like to know if you enjoy stealing his best friend.”

You look up at a very worried Steve. “He’s my best friend too.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, Steve smiles at you and turns to put a filter in the coffee machine. You grab the coffee from the cupboard and hand it to Steve as Bucky replies. 

“I knew him first,” is his retort. 

“First is the worst,” you rebut, grabbing a few mugs from the drying board and retreating to the couch again. “Second is the best.”

“You can’t hear it,” Bucky replies, his voice higher than usual in the phone. Everyone, you think, sounds higher-pitched in the phone. It’s gotta be some sorta known fact or something. A scientific fact. Gotta be. “—but I’m sticking my tongue out at you.”

You poke your tongue out from between your lips and are extremely grateful that Steve has his back to you to prepare the coffee. “Me too.”

“Are you two done?” Steve says in the background as you stand again and sit on one of the stools on the other side of the counter. 

“What’s he want?” Bucky asks. 

“Wants to know if we’re done talking,” you repeat. “Think he misses his hubby.”

On the other end of the line, Bucky cracks up, laughing so loud that someone yells something—toward him, you guess—that you can’t make out. Bucky clears his throat and whispers, “Bye, Y/N. Gimme back my man.”

You laugh as Steve sets a cup of coffee in front of you, made just the way you like it. “Bye, Buck. See you later.”

Handing over the phone, you blow on the surface of your coffee, watching as Steve takes the phone, slotting it between his shoulder and ear, and gingerly brings his coffee over to the counter you’re sitting at. “Yeah,” he says to Bucky. “Yeah, I know. I’ll get on it, promise.” Break. “See you tomorrow. Night, Buck.”

A few seconds later, he hangs up the phone and turns his attention toward you. “You have work tomorrow?”

He’s talking about your other job, the one you went to college for: editing. You work at a low-budget publishing company and you spend all day reading over articles on topics you couldn’t care less about for grammatical mistakes. It’s your job during the week, but because it’s low-budget, you also work at the diner. Graveyard shift Tuesdays and Thursdays, regular shift Saturdays and Sundays. 

Mondays are your days off of everything, and today is Sunday. 

“Yeah,” you agree. “I took off Friday, so I figured I’d make it up by working tomorrow.”

Steve sips his coffee and then gives you an apologetic look. “At least it’ll be worth it.”

“Yeah,” you scoff. “Go out clubbing with you, Peggy, Bucky, Sam, and Wanda. Cause I’m really a club-going type of person.”

Steve’s sympathetic look makes you feel sort of bad for snapping. “I know. I’d rather be home painting or something, but Peggy and Bucky think it’s a good idea, and Sam was all for it, so.” He takes another sip of his coffee. You haven’t touched yours yet. Too hot. “You said Wanda’s coming? Guess Nat and Clint are—”

“Going out,” you nod, finishing for him. “And Bruce and Stark?”

“Some science thing down at the plant,” he sums up and you shake your head. 

“Geeks,” you scoff. 

“Geeks,” Steve agrees with a nod. 

You end up talking to Steve for another hour before leaving. When you get back to your apartment, you hang the keys on their respective hooks in the kitchen and grab your phone from the counter before making your way to your room. 

You undress and get into your pj’s before getting into bed and lying on your side, clicking your phone open. 

There are four notifications waiting for you when you open it. The oldest is a Snap from Nat: 8:12 p.m. The next one is a message from Wanda, the preview reading something about the time for Friday: 8:31 p.m. Third is a message from your mom asking how work was and if you want her to drop off pasta for you tomorrow night: 8:54 p.m. The last one is—

New Message from Mr. Catarcs at 9:18 p.m.

Against your better judgement, you open that one first. 

9:18 p.m i was wondering why u were so familiar and i figured out that it’s cuz u remind me of this girl i kno

10:03 p.m oh?

You open your other messages while you wait for an answer from him. Nat’s Snap is a pic of the sign outside of the diner—the chalkboard one—before she took it in, with the specials written in the manager’s handwriting. It’s colorful as hell and sports the worst drawing of a chicken you’ve ever seen sitting right next to the words Chicken Marsala. How had you missed that earlier? 

You giggle and send one back, covering the camera with your thumb and writing ‘Wow’ in the black screen with red ink and some of those a-okay hand emojis. 

Still no answer from James. It is now 10:06. 

You tell your mother that you would love some pasta for tomorrow night, and ask her if she could send over a little more than usual so you could share it with Steve since he loves her cooking so much. 

Still no answer. 

It’s while you’re in the middle of telling Wanda that you’re going to pick her up around 7 on Friday night that your phone buzzes with a new message from James. You quickly send off the message to Wanda and click on the message from Mr. Catarcs at the top of your screen. 

10:12 p.m yeh uve got the same attitude as her

10:13 p.m that a good thing?

10:15 p.m depends

10:15 p.m on?

10:15 p.m what ur like in person

You’re not sure what to do with that, so you let it sit for a little while before answering. 

10:18 p.m guess you’ll have to get to know me better before that happens. need to make sure you’re not a serial killer or something

10:19 p.m im not a serial killer. r u?

10:20 p.m not as far as I know

10:21 p.m as far as uknow? what? u got smth to tell me

10:22 p.m definitely not

10:23 p.m unconvinced ur gonna have to try harder

You laugh. 

10:24 p.m nah its fun to think about you wondering if i’m a jeffrey dahmer wannabe

10:25 p.m im scared

10:25 p.m certainly you’re not scared of lil ol’ me

10:26 p.m certainly not

10:27 p.m i can feel the sarcasm all the way over here

There are a few minutes of radio silence during which you think that you haven’t had a conversation this entertaining in a long time. It’s fun talking to James, and it makes you both slightly nervous and very excited to see what happens. It’s that edge-of-your-seat, staying-up-even-though-you’re-exhausted-to-answer-a-text feeling. It feels like high school. You grin down at your black phone screen and wait for it to buzz. A few seconds later, it does, with an incoming text from Mr. Catarcs.

10:31 p.m its fun talking to u grammar nazi

10:31 p.m you too, mr. catarcs

10:32 p.m im gunna get u to use txt lingo

10:32 p.m yeah right. good luck

10:33 p.m just wait. ill do it. dont need luck. ive got skill

10:33 p.m LOL. i repeat: good luck

10:33 p.m mad skillz

10:34 p.m good night catarcs

10:35 p.m u forgot a comma

10:35 p.m you*

10:36 p.m just u wait. imma do it. gnight grammar nazi