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thestarrynightslover · 3 years

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The One He Got Right

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Word count: 2,700

Warnings: None. Just a crazy amount of fluff.

Summary: Jay and (y/n) have been dating for several months now, so, when his birthday comes up, the reader wants to throw him a surprise party.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the One Chicago shows, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: Fluffy happy jay is my religion, that's all I'm gonna say. Also, I feel like the One Chicago universe could have a lot of surprise parties, so, if they won't give it to us, let's just indulge ourselves, right?

As always, I hope it doesn’t suck too bad and, please, feel free to give me feedback!

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

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“You know, babe, I was hoping you’d be able to get the Thursday off so that we could go out and have some fun, or just stay in and cuddle. You can choose.” Jay said whilst caressing your feet in his lap.

“While that does sound good, I’m not sure I can convince my boss to give me the time off on such short notice, Jay.” You confessed with a tired sigh. “But what’s so special about Thursday for Voight to give you a day off anyway? You didn’t mention any big cases lately…” You asked your boyfriend, not missing how he started to uncomfortably shift his position on the couch.

“Uh, he said I should take the day to myself because it’s my birthday. That’s why I was hoping-”

“What???” You asked him, sitting up straight, already buzzing with excitement. “It’s your birthday in four days and you didn’t tell me???” Jay just looked at you like you were crazy.

“Well, I’m telling you now. Besides, it’s not that big of a deal. I just figured that since I’m getting a rare day off, I’d spend it with the person I love…” He tried to sound nonchalant, but you knew what game he was playing. And, honestly, you didn’t really care, because you’d always loved birthdays and holidays in general. So, if you had a chance at being with Jay throughout his, you’d take it.

“Not that big of a deal? Who are you? The Grinch? Of course, it’s a big deal, babe!” Your excitement was almost tangible. “So, tell me, what is it you want us to do, hum? Is there gonna be a party? Wait a second, have you been party-planning without me this whole time?” Your boyfriend couldn’t understand how went from too grinny to too offended in two seconds like that.

“What? Party? No! No! Not at all, baby! I really just thought we could spend some quality time together, you know, without the possibility of me getting called in at any minute…" He told you and, all of the sudden, he looked exhausted, making you feel stupid for bombarding him with your craziness like that.

"Oh, okay… Look, I'm sorry I freaked out, babe. It's just that you're such an amazing boyfriend – and everything else, really –, so, when you said it's your birthday… Let me do something?" You asked, with what you considered to be your sweetest smile. At that, Jay started chuckling lightly.

"Well, I could let you do something, but your company is already gonna be much more than just something. And that's all I could possibly want from you, princess." How could you even try to resist that man?

"Okay. Then, uh, I'll get the day off, no matter what, but… I'm still doing something!" You said with a wicked smile.

"Oh, God. Fine, just don't exaggerate, okay?" Hearing that, you gave him a look.

"Right, right. Note to self: don't exaggerate." At that point, Jay decided to just give in, which was the best he could do, since your plan was already shaping up in your head. It was going to be a long four days…

The next morning, after leaving Jay’s place, you started calling people while walking to work. The first on your list was Herrmann because there was no party without a venue. And what better venue for your boyfriend’s birthday celebration than the very place where he liked to spend so much time?

“Hi, (y/n/n)! How you doing?” Christopher asked with his usual excited voice.

“Hey, Chirs! I’m great, how are you? And how are Cindy and the kids?” First things first: to convince the petty man to let you use his bar like that, you were gonna need to be your most charming self.

“Ah, we’re all good too, thanks for asking, kid! Listen, uh, how’s everything between you and Halstead? He hasn’t shown up at Molly’s in a while…” Normally that would have gotten you worried, but this time you knew that it was because of the demanding case his unit had closed last week and then because of how he was trying to spend most of his crazy free hours with you.

“Everything’s fine, really. The thing is that he’d been a little too busy with Intelligence’s latest case and then he was a bit tired in his free time, so we’d just spend the nights in… But thank you for the concern, Chris!” By that point of your relationship with Jay, you’d met pretty much everyone who hung out at the first responders’ bar (at least everyone who was friends with your boyfriend), and it was fair to say that they all had a lot of appreciation for you. Herrmann, for example, was always trying to look after you. Treating you like a daughter. And, as sweet as that was, you were about to use it to get him to give up Molly’s for the party. “So, um, you mentioned that we haven’t been to Molly’s much lately… How’s the business going?”

“Ah, (y/n/n), look at you! Always worrying about other people! The business is going well! But you know how these things are… Could always be better.” He told you, in that very Herrmann way, always thinking ahead and making growth plans.

“Yeah… Well, you know, Jay always tells me about how much he loves it there… How much that place and the people in it, especially you, mean to him…” You threw your bait. It wasn’t exactly true, but it wasn’t exactly a lie either. You knew how much all of that meant to Jay, he never even had to tell you about it.

“Really?” You could practically hear Herrmann’s grin through the phone. “I hope he knows that we all at 51, hell, at Molly’s, see him as family too! He’s such a good kid... ” Perfect. It was now or never.

“Speaking of him knowing how much he means to us, as you know that his birthday is coming up on Thursday, I was-”

“What??? His birthday? I, I, I, ah, I didn’t know that…” Another perfect strike for you.

“Well, then I guess that makes it a bit weird for me to ask you what I was about to…” God, it was moments like this that made you think that you could've been an actress.

“No! What?! Not at all, what was it?”

“I was wondering if you could give Molly’s up for a surprise party I wanna throw for him...” You said, ripping the band-aid off, with your fingers crossed that the guilt-trip you tried to put him on would work its magic.

“Oh!” If only you could see him now! Split between wanting to show Jay how much he cared and the projections of how much he’d lose giving Molly’s up like that. “You know what? To the hell with it! Jay was one of our first regular customers and got us rid of that scumbag Arthur, so yeah! We’re doing that for him!” You wanted to scream at how perfectly your plan had worked out, but you stopped yourself as Herrmann said (for no one’s surprise): “But I’m not giving any free drinks to anyone!”

“Okay, okay, Chris.” You said laughing. “What you’re doing is enough help already! Thank you so much!”

“Nah, don’t worry about it! Just wish everyone would appreciate my gestures as much as you do, instead of complaining that I should be doing more…” At that point, you were laughing your ass off, as you couldn’t keep it inside any longer.

“Okay, then I’ll let you know when and who’s gonna need the keys to set up the decoration and stuff.” You said whilst brushing the tears away from your eyes.

“Alright, (y/n/n), I gotta go now, but I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Yeah, talk soon. Bye.” One down, some more to go.

And that's how you spent your morning: completely ignoring your work, in between calls to put Jay's surprise party in motion. You put Stella, Severide, and whoever else wanted to help them in charge of the drinks. Sylvie and Chloe were on the cake. Adam and Kevin were taking care of the food, duly supervised by Kim and Hailey, as you knew they couldn't be trusted to not eat anything before the time. You let Maggie and Ethan in charge of the decoration, along with any more help they could get at Med. And Will and Platt were going to contact Jay's other friends. You were on the tricky assignment of keeping your boyfriend in the dark about all of that until it was Thursday night. While, also, overseeing everyone's work, because, well, you were the organizer!

To say that there were many bumps along the short period of time you had until the party was stating the obvious. Several times during those three days you got calls from Will, panicking over the fact that, every time he saw his brother, he felt an urge to scream 'Surprise!!!'. Seriously, after this party, Jay Halstead just couldn't let you out of his life, because the amount of energy it took to keep yourself from murdering his older brother... It was a clear show of love.

Still, everything went well and there were no murders. The Thursday morning came as quickly as you knew it would and, thankfully, everyone had their parts of the plan pretty much done. Which meant it was your time to shine: operation keep-the-detective-from-detecting had begun!

“So, today’s the day. Are you gonna tell me what is it that we’re doing?” Jay asked you with a soft smile on his lips.

“Yes, of course, detective. But only after we get you a proper birthday breakfast!” You told Jay while pulling him out of the apartment to go to this diner you knew he loved. When you got there, the orders were already waiting for you at your favorite table, and, being the silly bean he is, your boyfriend got pretty impressed by it.

“But, what?! How did you get them to do this? I thought they never took orders over the phone!”

“And they never do!” You confirmed with a wink, trying to hold back the laughter. Not that you could keep it inside any longer when his eyes landed on the personalized birthday wishes written on the pancakes. As much as he liked to act like a tough guy most of the time, at that moment he couldn’t help but let out his inner excited little boy.

“Oh my God! This is amazing! It’s so cute!” He beamed brightly.

“I know, I know. Now eat your breakfast, birthday boy!” You ordered with a fake look of annoyance on your face. But instead of just digging in on the food, like you’d told him to, he leaned in from across the table to press a sweet kiss to your lips.

“The day barely even started and I already know that this is gonna be one of the best birthdays of my life!” He told you, as a genuinely happy smile took over his features.

“Well, then I’m glad I can be of service.” You said, and, like that, the day passed by. You wandered, hand-in-hand, the streets of a rare sunny Chicago, had lunch by the Riverwalk, went to the movie theater, and, finally, back to his place.

“Okay, today was amazing! But, I gotta admit, I’m a bit tired… So what do you say we open a bottle of wine, order some Italian, and cuddle our way into the night, hum?” Jay asked, already sitting on the couch with his phone in hand.

“I say a big colossal no!” Hearing that, he looked at you super confused. “Because I already told Will that we were gonna meet him for a couple of beers at Molly’s.” Instead of just sighing and standing up like you thought he’d do, your boyfriend narrowed his eyes to you, in a way that showed he got suspicious of something. “What?”

“We’re gonna meet Will at Molly’s? On my birthday?”

“Yeah, why?”

“No, nothing. It’s just that, coming from you and Will on my birthday,” shit! He emphasized the birthday part again, “that doesn’t sound like just a meetup for beers at Molly’s, that’s all.” Damn it, a thousand times damn it! Why did he have to be so good? And that stupid cocky smile he had on right now was still gonna be the death of you. Before you even said anything, you knew it wasn’t gonna be very convincing, given how useless your brain seemed to be at the moment. So you could only hope that he’d turn a blind eye and just go along with it when you said:

“Well, it is just a meetup at Molly’s. And, if you must know, I only agreed to it because Will spent all day blowing up my phone with texts, saying that I stole his baby brother from him on a date that you two should always spend together.” You lied, trying to put up an annoyed façade.

“Ah, well, if that’s the case, then let’s just stay here and ignore our phones.” Jay suggested with a shrug. He knew you were lying, damn it!

“No!” You answered a bit too quickly. “We, uh, we can’t do that! Because, first of all, it would be very douchy and, second, Will would be mad at me forever, and that can’t happen if I have any hopes of ever becoming a Halstead.” You didn’t even realize what you’d just said, until after it came out, but then it was too late to go back. He glued his eyes on you immediately, while you tried to hide your blushing face with your hands. “I can’t believe that I really just said that out loud.” You sorta-whispered shyly, never uncovering your face.

“Me neither…” He confessed with a huge grin, also going to remove your hands off your face with his. “Baby, I know I don’t say this much, because, as you know, words aren’t really my strongest suit, but I love you. And I, too, have real high hopes that you’ll become a Halstead someday.” He told you, making your eyes tear up.

“I love you too, babe.” You barely let it out before he pulled you in for a warm loving kiss.

“So, you say that a lot in your head, hum?” He asked with a smug smirk on his lips.

“Shut up, let’s just go.” You grunted, trying hard not to blush again.

“Do we really have to, though? You know Will doesn’t get to decide anything between us.” Jay tried to reason with you, apparently forgetting about his suspicions.

“I know, but we’re not bailing on him like this, Jay.” At that, he gave you an annoyed pouting look but eventually gave it up and headed to the bar with you.

Before you got out of the cab, you managed to, discretely, shoot Will a quick text, to let everyone know that you’d arrived. That way, as soon as Jay opened the door, letting you in first as usual, the mini crowd of guests shouted:

“Surprise!!!!!” You couldn’t help but break up in laughter when your boyfriend almost jumped back outside after the scare. Jay Halstead, the man who was always prepared for anything, got completely caught by surprise this time.

“Oh my God, guys, what the hell?” He asked with a shocked expression that just made everyone in the bar laugh hard, as they started reaching out to hug him and say their birthday wishes.

In the midst of all that, Jay saw you smiling shyly on a corner and immediately knew who was the mastermind behind it all. That made him think of how, when you came into his life, you were like a sunshine ray that never darkened, making his hardest days easier and better. And you were even more now.

Jay Halstead had definitely made a lot of wrong, shitty, decisions throughout his life. On both personal and professional levels, they’d gotten him a lot of heartache. But dating you was for sure the one he got right.

#fanfiction #fanfic #imagines #one shot #one chicago #one chicago fanfiction #chicago pd #chicago pd fanfiction #jay halstead #baby jay #will halstead #christopher herrmann #fluff #jay halstead fanfiction #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead x y/n #jay halstead x you #surprise party #jay halstead fluff

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stylesnews · 3 years

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“Feeling good in my skin/ I just keep on dancing,” Harry Styles sings in his latest single, “Treat People With Kindness.” And in the song’s exuberant music video -- which has garnered 17 million YouTube views and counting since its debut on New Year’s Day -- he does just that: Wearing a sequined jacket and bow tie, he chassés, spins and flutters jazz hands like an MGM musical star (with a little help from his equally debonair partner, Fleabag’s Phoebe Waller-Bridge).

Styles shot the video in early 2019 after several weeks of training with choreographer Paul Roberts, a collaborator since his One Direction days. “I think somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew this could be something special,” says Roberts, a veteran stage director and choreographer who’s worked on videos and tours for the likes of Sam Smith, Katy Perry, Diana Ross, and the Spice Girls (their Spiceworld stadium tour).

Watching the explosive fan reaction to Styles’s little known dance talents -- including from the Spice Girls, who've “sent lovely messages" about the video -- Roberts says it seems like "Treat People With Kindness" arrived at the precise right moment. “Most people’s comments are, ‘I’ve not felt that happy for three and a half minutes in a long time,’ or ‘I smiled from ear to ear the whole way through.’ It’s a positive light.”

He spoke to Billboard about Styles’ intensive training process -- and why he wouldn’t be surprised to see him dancing onstage again.

There’s been one pretty overwhelming reaction to this video: “This is the guy who was in the group that insisted they couldn’t dance?!” Did you expect this kind of reaction to Harry dancing? I’ve been with Harry for 10 years: I was with the One Direction boys from the beginning the whole way through their career before they took the hiatus, and they always made a very conscious decision that they didn’t want choreography as part of their brand -- but they did want a kind of disheveled organization in order to allow the cameras and the lighting to stand a chance in terms of presenting them in the best manner possible.

What was very evident to me was that all five of them, and then it obviously became four, they’ve all got their own magic. The only time I’ve experienced that was when I worked with the Spice Girls. I always knew that they had special skills aside from what they were in One Direction, whether it was movement, songwriting, being able to handle the business side of things. For such young lads they were very astute and very decisive. So, getting together with Harry -- he’s a bit of an alchemist, is Harry. Everything he turns his hand to turns to gold. Where did the initial dance-centric concept come from? Harry and the directors, Ben and Gabe [Turner], sent me a video link to the Nicholas Brothers scene from Stormy Weather and Harry asked me, "How long do you think it would take to dance like this?" I was like, "OK, are you being serious?" "Yeah, I’m being serious."

That is probably one of the most standout dance sequences ever captured on film -- so I knew we were aiming high. I said, "Why don’t we go into a studio and let’s workshop some choreography, some moves, some short sequences, and see what your ability is, see how we can tailor this to make you look the best you can possibly look." Obviously it would take some investment in terms of rehearsal and commitment, I told him it would be mentally and physically exhausting, but I thought, "My God yeah, let’s do it; this will be an adventure."

How long did the whole process take? We started in mid-January 2019, and we rehearsed and workshopped for about four to five weeks before the shoot, every day. Both Harry and Phoebe had other things going on, so, for instance, Phoebe was working on the new Bond movie in Canada, so I sent my assistant to Canada to work with her. I stayed in the U.K. with Harry, and then we went to L.A. where Harry shot two more videos, for “Watermelon Sugar” and “Falling.”

What was the process in the studio like with Harry? We didn’t even use his [vocal] track to begin with -- we used different big band songs, some contemporary alternative music. It was just about finding his [movement] language first and foremost. Then we developed the choreography and sent it to the directors, who gave us feedback. We enhanced the work a bit more, and then once we had some really solid sequences, Ben and Gabe storyboarded the scenes against the timeline of the music.

At this point Harry and Phoebe were still working separately, and then we joined forces in London, where we really started to refine these sequences of choreography we’d developed, trying to find the finesse and the style, almost making sense of the movement for them so they felt they had a dancer’s way of working the movement through the body. You’ve worked with a wide variety of artists, many of whom aren’t dancers first. How do you find, as you put it, the “language” of movement that makes sense for each of them as individuals?

I think the general answer is really communicating -- listening and understanding what the artist’s desire is. And also collaborating, so you don’t get too lost in yourself as a choreographer. What looks good on you might not transcend to the artist, or even necessarily the dancers.

With Harry, what was important within the language of the choreography was that it felt joyful and had personality. Him and Phoebe, with the work she’s done with Fleabag, you associate them and what they do with a sense of style, a real confidence, but at the heart of it it’s entertainment. And with the amount of time and budget we had, which was such a luxury in this day and age, we wanted to do something that pushed both of them out of their comfort zones. We tried to make it as athletic as possible but without compromising them as artists and becoming too comedic. We wanted it to be a bit quaint and cute in places, but we definitely didn’t want it to be thought of as nonsensical or silly.

Harry’s movement in the video is so crisp and precise, even his hands and arm extension look very dancerly. Did that come through a lot of specific work with you? As a songwriter and artist, for Harry it’s about detail, about pushing yourself to be the best. He’s always got questions: "Why are we doing that? Should we be doing this?" We got to a point during the rehearsal period where I brought in a ballet teacher, really to just get Harry and Phoebe to open themselves up from behind their shoulder blades, have an idea of extension, the lines that extend from your center all the way to the tip of your finger. I’d be saying, “Your arms Harry, your arm line!” Asking him to push his shoulders down, lift his carriage up, extend through his breast. And when he hit those lines, he’d be like, “Oh yeah, that feels different.” It’s funny: We spent a couple days apart -- he had to go off and do a gig somewhere -- and I was like, “I hope you’re rehearsing when you’ve got some downtime, dude!” And he sent me a picture in the gym with his arms in the most beautiful balletic arm line! I was like, "Yes, by George, you’ve got it!" Besides the Nicholas Brothers, did you have any particular dance references in mind for the feel of the choreography? I just delved into the MGM archives. Obviously [Fred] Astaire and [Gene] Kelly, the two greats -- especially with Astaire, we loved how sometimes it seems so effortless yet a bit throwaway, not totally totally perfect always. We enjoyed the moments from him of “I’ll just do a bit of this,” “I’ll just walk off camera left,” the dropping in and out of movement. We loved the duet “Moses Supposes” from Singin’ in the Rain, for Gene Kelly and Donald O’Connor -- we loved the camaraderie between them, which felt a bit goofball at times, and just that wry smile, the look to the left, knowing your partner is there and has got your back. It feels fizzy, it feels joyful.

And yes, there was a massive core of MGM-ism, but at the same time an absolute huge dollop of Harry-and-Phoebe-ism. It was important to us to feel a bit more contemporary, so again we stay true to Harry and Phoebe as artists. Has Harry indicated any interest in dancing more going forward?

We had a conversation back at the end of the summer about how much we enjoyed the process, and I know he was doing another project where choreography was involved, so we were just talking about it and how he felt. Coming from where he came from to what he was about to do, he felt he could be pushed even further. I don’t know if he got the bug, or if it’s just the way he is as a person, very inquisitive and wanting to keep elevating himself. There’s now been some talk on social media that it can’t be long before Harry does Broadway. What do you think?

I mean, I think with Harry Styles, anything is possible, is it not? I mean, I’m sure because he’s tasted the dance, he’ll inject that along the line in his career. It won’t necessarily be out-and-out dancing, but I guess it’s a bit like Bowie used to do, isn’t it? It’s the showmanship and presentation of the performance. Who knows? He’s just so open-minded and open-hearted — and because he’s so open it allows the universe to come back at him and he’s able to do anything he sets his mind to.

#harry styles #jan21 #paul roberts #billboard #article #tpwkmv

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dwellordream · 3 years

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“If parents and commentators were sometimes concerned about the safety of middle-class girls in city streets, however, they were increasingly concerned about the moral implications of ‘‘good’’ girls taking to walking the streets in such numbers. Fears of precociousness not only encouraged parents to postpone discussions of menarche, they also created a reactionary challenge— too late—to girls’ social freedoms. European observers had commented on the relative freedom of American girls from the routine restraints imposed on European girls for much of the century.

In his 1840 opus Democracy in America, Alexis de Tocqueville noted the early emancipation of the American young woman from maternal control. ‘‘She has scarcely ceased to be a child when she already thinks for herself, speaks with freedom, and acts on her own impulse. . . . The vices and dangers of society are early revealed to her; as she sees them clearly, she views them without illusion and braves them without fear, for she is full of reliance on her own strength, and her confidence seems to be shared by all around her.’’

With the expansion of northeastern cities following the Civil War, and the increasing presence of middle-class girls unregulated in the streets, a range of commentators began publicly to reconsider that confidence. One of the first broadsides in a newly intensified public debate about the character of ‘‘the girl’’ came from Britain and the pen of a journalist and clergyman’s daughter. Eliza Lynn Linton’s essay was notable in part because of its description of a modern type, not limited to one class.

‘‘The Girl of the Period’’ was published as a pamphlet in Britain in 1868, sold forty thousand copies from a single publisher, and first ignited a controversy there. Linton’s British ‘‘girl’’—in future debates known simply as the ‘‘G.O.P.’’—was loud, brassy, and disrespectful. She had traded in purity and ‘‘delicacy of perception’’ for the slang and the conspicuousness of the demimonde. Linton went on: ‘‘The Girl of the Period is a creature who dyes her hair and paints her face, as the first article of her personal religion—a creature whose sole idea of life is fun; whose sole aim is unbounded luxury; and whose dress is the chief object of such thought and intellect as she possesses.’’

Linton’s ‘‘G.O.P.’’ was ‘‘far too fast and flourishing’’ to listen to her parents, ‘‘indifferent’’ to duty, ‘‘useless’’ at home, and dedicated to the pursuit of money. Henry James, who later made the character of the American girl a subject of his fiction, reviewed Linton’s pamphlet in the Nation. He began by denying its relevance to the United States.

‘‘The American reader will be struck by the remoteness and strangeness of the writer’s tone and allusions. He will see that the society which makes these papers even hypothetically—hyperbolically—possible is quite another society from that of New York and Boston. American life, whatever may be said, is still a far simpler process than the domestic system of England.’’ In contrast to Linton’s portrait ‘‘of youthful Jezebels with plastered faces and lascivious eyes,’’ James offered the ‘‘large number of very pretty and, on the whole, very fresh-looking girls’’ of Boston or New York, ‘‘dressed in various degrees of the prevailing fashion.’’

James’s use of the term girl to refer to wholesome and respectable teenage females was an early instance of its contemporary usage. No sooner had James denied any comparison, though, than he began to warm to the task of finding similarities. He found American girls excessively devoted to the idea of being well dressed, which had ‘‘a sacred and absolute meaning.’’

A girl of fashion ‘‘is undeniably a very artificial and composite creature, and doubtless not an especially edifying spectacle. . . . She has, moreover, great composure and impenetrability of aspect. She practices a sort of half-cynical indifference to the beholder (we speak of the extreme cases). Accustomed to walk alone in the streets of a great city, and to be looked at by all sorts of people, she has acquired an unshrinking directness of gaze. She is the least bit hard.’’

James’s novel The Awkward Age (1899) took up the consequences of the ‘‘exposure’’ in public of British girls for their marriage prospects. As much as James admired the independence of ‘‘the American girl’’ (always to be considered as part of American elite), his hypersensitive self was shocked by the toughness of her exterior. Several years later another literary figure entered the debate over the impact of modernity on middle-class American girls.

Louisa May Alcott acknowledged Linton’s influence in the preface to her book An Old-Fashioned Girl (1872), a tale of a simple, affectionate country girl of fourteen who goes to live with a sophisticated and unhappy friend, a fashionable girl of the city. ‘‘The ‘Old-Fashioned Girl’ is not intended as a perfect model, but as a possible improvement upon the Girl of the Period, who seems sorrowfully ignorant or ashamed of the good old fashions which made woman truly beautiful and honored, and through her, render home what it should be,—a happy place, where parents and children, brothers and sisters, learn to love and know and help one another.’’

Readers first meet Alcott’s heroine Polly when Tom, the brother of the family, arrives at the train station to pick up his sister’s friend and lights in error on a passenger who might pass for a G.O.P. She is in gorgeous array, with ‘‘a flapping of sashes, scallops, ruffles, curls, and feathers.’’ The passenger, ‘‘a breezy stranger,’’ eyes Tom with a ‘‘cool stare that utterly quenched him.’’

Just as he is gathering his forces to initiate conversation, up runs our heroine, ‘‘a fresh-faced little girl, . . . with her hand out, and a half shy, half-merry look in her blue eyes.’’ Like Little Women, published several years before, An Old-Fashioned Girl celebrates the beauty of girls’ devotion to home and family and their rejection of the material, selfish world of the modern city. A comparison of titles, however, suggests an important difference in the implications of the two books for female adolescence.

In contrast to Little Women, An Old-Fashioned Girl encourages girls to hold on to their status as children, rather than embracing too early the roles and manners of women. The problem of the urban sisters Fanny and little Maud in Alcott’s novel is their precociousness. Fanny explains to Polly, ‘‘You are fourteen; and we consider ourselves young ladies at that age.’’ Alcott, in contrast, describes Polly as a ‘‘fresh-faced little girl.’’

In fact, the family’s grandmother suggests that her own granddaughters scarcely were ever children. ‘‘’You mustn’t mind my staring, dear,’ said Madam, softly pinching her rosy cheek. ‘I haven’t seen a little girl for so long, it does my old eyes good to look at you.’’’ Her own granddaughters, she explains, are ‘‘not what you call little girls. Fan has been a young lady this two years, and Maud is a spoiled baby.’’

Even Maud, at the age of six, has the accoutrements of maturity in the form of calling cards, crimping pins, and a ‘‘box of dainty gloves.’’ Alcott explains that Maud ‘‘belonged to a ‘set’ also; and these mites of five and six had ‘their’ parties, receptions, and promenades, as well as their elders, and the chief idea of their little lives seemed to be to ape the fashionable follies they should have been too innocent to understand.’’ Alcott is so concerned with demonstrating the folly of precociousness that she turns fifteen- or sixteen-year-old Polly’s interest in the attractive son of the family into an object lesson.

‘‘Polly shut her door hard, and felt ready to cry with vexation, that her pleasure should be spoilt by such a silly idea; for, of all the silly freaks of this fast age, that of little people playing at love is about the silliest.’’ Alcott’s fear of precociousness cuts such a wide swathe that she admits little distinction between the pairing off of six-year-olds and the infatuation of teenagers.

The explanation for the precociousness of girls is their involvement in a new peer culture, facilitated and expanded by attending school. When Polly asks Fanny why she spends so much time getting dressed just to go to school, Fanny responds, ‘‘All the girls do; and it’s proper, for you never know who you may meet. I’m going to walk, after my lessons, so I wish you’d wear your best hat and sack.’’ In Alcott’s novel the custom of walking, encouraged to provide girls with appropriate exercise, appears as a vapid excuse for socializing, especially in contrast with the health of children’s play.

Polly scorns it. ‘‘To dress up and parade certain streets for an hour every day, to stand talking in doorways, or drive out in a fine carriage, was not the sort of exercise she liked. . . . At home, Polly ran and rode, coasted and skated, jumped rope and raked hay, worked in her garden and rowed her boat; so no wonder she longed for something more lively than a daily promenade with a flock of giddy girls.’’ It is the strength of urban peer culture which leads to the unhealthiness and unhappiness—and the unlovableness—of the bored and fashionable Fanny.

Other commentators as well attacked the danger of precociousness in the rearing of girls. Washington Gladden, liberal clergyman and promoter of the social gospel, was persuaded in 1880 to provide advice for girls in St. Nicholas to complement an earlier article for boys. He censured ‘‘a too early initiation into the excitements and frivolities of what is called society. It was formerly the rule for girls to wait until their school-days were over before they made their appearance in fashionable society. At what age, let us inquire, does the average young lady of our cities now make her debut?’’ Like Alcott, Gladden dipped down into the early years to see the onset of preciousness. ‘‘From my observations, I should answer at about the age of three. They are not older than that when they begin to go to children’s parties, for which they are dressed as elaborately as they would be for a fancy ball.’’

If Gladden focused on the social folly of children forced into early maturity, for Mary Virginia Terhune the practice was evil: ‘‘We sin in allowing the fears, hopes and flutters of nubility to obtrude, even in imagination, upon this most susceptible stage of the formative period. There is vulgar violence in the excitation of coy tremors and coquettish projects in the mind of one who is as yet incapable of comprehending the meaning or tendency of the novel emotions.’’

Employing the earthy, agrarian metaphors which were one way of objectifying girls’ maturation, Terhune expounded, ‘‘Premature bloom is imperfection, too often deformity. Forced fruits lack the flavor of the summer’s prime, the beauty and richness of seasonableness.’’ If Henry James felt that girls were becoming hard from their exposure in the city streets, Terhune and others feared that they were becoming blemished or prematurely soft—a different kind of distortion of the ‘‘girl crop’’ that was everyone’s property.

The allure of city streets was only part of the story, though. Critics cautioned that weakening family ties helped to push girls into the streets. In Alcott’s accounting, and in the ongoing debate over the Girl of the Period, the declining authority of parents played an important role in the dissipation of girls. Alcott’s fashionable fictional family is headed by an absent father and an invalid mother.

Mr. Shaw is ‘‘a busy man, so intent on getting rich that he had no time to enjoy what he already possessed.’’ He has a habit of lecturing his son ‘‘and letting the girls do just as they like[].’’ Mrs. Shaw is ‘‘a pale, nervous women,’’ an invalid, defined by needs rather than by her ability to give. The family might meet for dinner, but after eating ‘‘they all [go] about their own affairs.’’ Whatever else was to blame, there was no question that the ‘‘girl problem’’ was in part the problem of urban parents losing control over their daughters.

When Washington Gladden addressed the problem of girls, he titled his article ‘‘A Talk with Girls and Their Mothers’’ because he felt the problem lay with both. The commandment that children should obey their parents, he asserted, was disregarded by both mothers and teenage daughters. ‘‘The girl of thirteen regards herself as her own mistress; she is already a woman in her own estimation, and has a right to do as she pleases.’’

Despite his strenuous support elsewhere for longer and more vigorous walking for girls, Gladden could not countenance the freedom of girls in the city streets. ‘‘This habit of running loose, of constantly seeking the street for amusement, and even of making chance acquaintances there, is practiced by some of the girls of our good families, and it is not at all pleasant to see them on the public thoroughfares, and to witness their hoydenish ways. . . . The delicate bloom of maiden modesty is soiled by too much familiarity with the public streets of a city, and a kind of boldness is acquired which is not becoming in a woman.’’

Gladden’s worry for the ‘‘delicate bloom of maiden modesty’’ reflected a legitimate concern for how girls’ culture was being influenced by urban freedom. An article published in Ladies’ Home Journal in 1884 took a different tone in reporting on ‘‘an epidemic’’ of disappearances of girls: ‘‘One doesn’t bring up a chubby baby girl to bang upon a grand piano, outdress other girls and graduate with nuns’ veiling and sixteen hired bouquets, to have some dark night bring a rascal and a rope-ladder to steal her away just when she is getting big enough to do the marketing and darn her father’s socks. . . . The sympathy of the entire world goes out to the bereaved owners of these pretty girls, spirited away.’’ Despite its glib and knowing tone, itself a radical break from the earnest, idealist rhetoric which usually accompanied such discussions, the article had a strong message for mothers:

‘‘The fact is, the mothers of to-day do not exercise enough maternal authority and vigilance over their daughters. . . . Female chums call for them to spend the night, and who they meet while absent from the home circle mothers never know.’’ The pull of ‘‘chums’’ drawing girls away from their mothers’ households was a far cry from the idealized intergenerational domestic world promoted by advisers. A signed article republished from the Congregationalist in 1889 explored the distance between domestic ideal and urban reality.

Mrs. J. G. Fraser titled her piece ‘‘Our Lost Girls’’ and subtitled it ‘‘A Mother Sadly Regrets That She Can Not Have the Training of Her Daughter.’’ Fraser exclaimed, ‘‘Alas! just as our daughters are entering their teens, or before, we discover that we have lost them. Where have they gone?’’ Her answer was clear. ‘‘It is a fact that the average girl is restless unless she can visit or receive visits from some young lady friend most of the time.’’ Such chores as a daughter might have ‘‘are hurried through with unseemly haste, to the end that she may leave home as soon as possible.’’

Informed by the dictates of domesticity, Fraser knew what her maternal role should be: ‘‘Sympathetic companionship, little seeds of counsel dropped wisely here and there, a knowledge of what the girls are thinking about and what they are interested in; a wise ignoring of some girlish follies—all these are needed.’’ But there was one problem in applying techniques of domestic influence.

If they could help it, girls were probably not at home to listen to their mothers’ advice. Fraser uttered a complaint with a contemporary ring. ‘‘Our homes should not be simply boarding houses where our children eat and sleep, but dwelling places where they are to spend most of their time out of school hours.’’ If they were to sustain the culture of the ‘‘old-fashioned girl,’’ mothers must take their daughters back from the streets and from the friends they promenaded with there.

Girls who appeared in public and walked the streets were historically ‘‘public women,’’ prostitutes. What distinguished the debates of the 1870s and 1880s was that they were not about prostitutes but instead about a more broadly defined and owned group of daughters. Not distinguished by class or profession, the G.O.P. was not a fallen ‘‘other’’ but instead a creature of modernity, created by the industrial city.

When Henry James, Louisa May Alcott, Ladies’ Home Journal, and St. Nicholas wrote about girls, they were talking about their own daughters, or nieces, or grandchildren, or the daughters of their friends and colleagues. Mrs. J. G. Fraser, of course, most literally seems to have been writing about her daughter. In contrast with later discussions about ‘‘the girl problem,’’ these late-Victorian debates were explicitly not focused on working or shopgirls. Instead, such discussions hit closer to home, often debating the impact of modern culture on Our Girls, as an advice book published in 1871 was entitled.

These girls might even be considered to belong to an urban elite. Louisa May Alcott’s Fanny differs from her country friend because she is a girl of fashion, whose parents can afford to buy her the new offerings of urban dry goods stores. When Kate Tannatt Woods excoriated the rude and showy ‘‘Manners in Public’’ of a certain young concertgoer, she characterized her explicitly: ‘‘Sallie Ducats, whose father is a celebrated statesman, and whose mother bore a grand old name prior to her marriage.’’

The conduct of Sallie (spelled in the French fashion) and her friends sets a bad standard for other girls: ‘‘Their heavy steps and bustling noise disturbed the entire [concert] audience. . . . This was not all. They removed their wraps with much parade and noise, raised their seats and let them fall again, and then, after some further maneuvers, produced some bon-bons which they proceeded to eat with evident relish. During the entire concert they whispered, giggled, looked about, and made comments on people about them.’’ Woods concluded by asking: ‘‘What is to be done when young women belonging to our so-called ‘best families’ are guilty of such conduct?’’

…When pundits debated the status of the American girl, they were not likely to be referring to domestic servants or factory operatives; they were more likely to be referring to American schoolgirls, despite their distinct minority status. The debate over the conduct of the American girl gained an edge of urgency because of the class standing of the girls now out in public. At the same time, that urgency helped to create a more broadly defined and collectively owned group of girls.

If advice givers needed to vouch for the respectability of schoolgirls, however, they could still remain disturbed by some of the after-hour implications of school attendance, especially at the more suspect public schools. The Ladies’ Home Journal’s glib answer to the question ‘‘Why Girls Disappear’’ blamed mothers but indirectly it blamed school, too. ‘‘School-girls here have been seen year in and year out being joined on a certain corner by rakish-looking boys who carried their books.’’

Another article in the same magazine the next year lambasted the dangerous influence of the roller-skating rink on schoolgirls as well. Under the title ‘‘Flirting Girls,’’ the writer noted that ‘‘school girls in great numbers frequent these pleasure resorts and emulate each other in picking up the greatest number of gentlemen acquaintances. So large is this class of chance acquaintances, that the girls in our public schools already recognize these men by a slang term, a humorous but pitiful term, when one thinks of the underlying fact. These ‘pick-ups’ are not obtained in the skating rink alone but are made on the sidewalk with a bow, a smile, a word, or in a horse car or at a baseball match or at the theatre.’’ The outcry of concern over the modern girl focused on middle-class girls, and the impact of a range of social developments—school among them—which were breaking down the authority of parents, the strength of the home, and the domination of traditional morality.”

- Jane H. Hunter, “Friendship, Fun, and the City Streets.” in How Young Ladies Became Girls: The Victorian Origins of American Girlhood

#cities #gender #victorian #history #american #class #jane h. hunter #how young ladies became girls

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kingstylesdaily · 3 years

Text

How Harry Styles Found His Inner Dancer For 'Treat People With Kindness'

He spoke to Billboard about Styles’ intensive training process -- and why he wouldn’t be surprised to see him dancing onstage again.

At the end of the “Watermelon Sugar” shoot, he wrapped, got in his car, came to the dance studio and we rehearsed into the night. Knowing how short a time you sometimes get with artists even for really big performances, I thought the rehearsals would dilute and we’d lose momentum, but both Phoebe and Harry were so committed. What was the process in the studio like with Harry? We didn’t even use his [vocal] track to begin with -- we used different big band songs, some contemporary alternative music. It was just about finding his [movement] language first and foremost. Then we developed the choreography and sent it to the directors, who gave us feedback. We enhanced the work a bit more, and then once we had some really solid sequences, Ben and Gabe storyboarded the scenes against the timeline of the music.

via billboard.com

#kingstylesdaily #Harry Styles #hs: tpwk #January 2021 #hs: news

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lyracasstuff · 3 years

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Heya!! I actually just found your blog and I would like to say how amazing your writing it! Aaaa it's so cute and you seem very sweet!! <3

I came here to ask for a idv match up! I'm a female, she/her, I'm bi but I do have a preference towards men. Also, I don't mind a survivor or hunter!! Whatever you feel like atm dear. I'm very energetic when you get me in the right mood!! I love baking and editing! I also quite like photography. I'm a very loving person but can get cold if I feel bad so it's a bad habit TwT. I do give lots of compliments to people and it may seem like i like them but I just really like pointing out nice things about people. I love hugs and kisses especially!! I love it if my s/o could give me attention but not too much yknow? Like i want them to be happy with their life with me and their life outside of our relationship. Umm I hope that's enough!! Thank you for making your blog! It is very nice!! You're doing great!! I appreciate you <3 (ps. Make sure to eat and drink enough~)

Thank you for caring about my health dearie~ Honestly,, I could also say the same for you..(｡･ω･｡)

And I'm quite glad that you enjoy reading my blog posts! It means quite a lot for me whenever I hear people enjoying my blog as much as I enjoy writing them..( ´ ▽ ` )

After much thinking,, I've decided to match you up with...

Joseph Desaulnier!!📷

Let's first address the big elephant in the room: Photography..（・∀・）

Since the both of you love photography,, I can most *definitely* imagine you two taking pictures of scenery found in the manor..

As well as *some* of the silly things that happen outside of matches.. Although,, it's more on your end than Joseph's..

However,, I must also remind you that you WILL be bombarded with questions partaining to your "equipment"..(｡･ω･｡)

Whether it'd be a modern HD camera or your smartphone,, it's safe to assume that Joseph will be VERY much curious about these "equipment" that you have brought from the "future" ((even though we call it anything *but* from the future..))

"Are you telling me that this camera of yours can capture pictures instantly??? With just a simple press of a button??? Then, does that mean you won't have to stand for long periods of time to take your picture???"

((Fun fact: the first cameras that were patented require you to stand for long periods of time to take your picture which explains why plenty of the pictures during the Victorian Era were people staying in one position like standing..))

"This "smartphone" can ALSO capture pictures?? Would you mind showing me how, ma chérie??"

"The quality of the pictures are ABSOLUTELY DIVINE! From what time period must you be to access this kind of machinery, ma chérie???"

I highly suggest that you study your equipment thoroughly because Joseph *will* be asking questions about your photography equipment..

Well,, that and Joseph will *literally* fumble with *every* single nook and cranny of said equipment where he might actually break something on accident..

Which is rare for the gentlemanly and disciplined Joseph,, however we ARE talking about one of his biggest passions here..╮(─▽─)╭

Another topic here that is perhaps connected somehow is editing!!（⌒▽⌒）

Joseph is quite astonished when you told him one time that photos can be tweaked from your time period..

Now, on one hand,, he is amused as he sometimes *does* struggle with getting the perfect picture when the environment around him just isn't having it..

But he also can't fathom the idea of people actually editing their photos so much that sometimes,, the unedited version looks far too different than the edited version...

When I say that,, I specifically mean people who probably use photoshop just a *bit* too much..(^_^;)

Not that there is anything wrong about it as everyone knows.. After all,, sometimes we just use it solely for entertainment by making weird, abstract collages of people..

((Like photoshopping a bunch of characters from different fandoms to make some sort of crack-crossover movie poster..╮(─▽─)╭))

It just that Joseph prefers less edited photos as he believes that a photo can shine on it's own when it's taken skillfully..

((Another fun fact: Based from what I can gather, the French in the 1800s preferred a more natural look, which is evident by their choices in makeup like powder for the face or some simple rouge for the lips and cheeks.. Of course,, we are excluding the hair as we all know that big, elaborate wigs were all the rage in this era..))

In fact,, he might even throw a *little* shade towards photos that are super edited...(◎_◎;)

Pls tell him to calm down and not insult people who do something similar to that.. It'll only escelate and get worse in the future..

Okay,, now that we've discussed those, I think we shall head on over to other things, don't you think??（・∀・）

Another reason as to why I paired you with Joseph is because of your upbeat and loving energy!!（〜^∇^)〜🧡

Joseph's life before the manor was already pretty gloomy, and it hasn't really improved when he got into the manor..

So your very energetic and affectionate nature will surely bring in some lost warmth to his life!!（＞ｙ＜）

Although,, please be patient with him for at least a little while.. After all, him *suddenly* receiving love and attention is a bit overwhelming for him to process all at once..╮(─▽─)╭

When he *does* gets used to it, he appreciates it very much..(∩_∩)

With that being said however,, he is still quite disciplined about the time that you two spend together AND the time that you two spend seperately from each other so you won't have to worry about having your boundaries being meshed together..（・∀・）

On the topic of affections,, Joseph will actually be a bit shocked to hear you dish out compliments to everyone in the manor.. And quite frankly,, as well as everyone else that you complimented

((Listen,, we're talking about the Victorian Era,, where modesty is highlighted as a core value..))

I'll be honest in saying that for a split-second,, Joseph *might've* actually thought of you as a flirtatious person

So when you explained to him that that's just how you are and that you just like to point out nice things about other people,, he's confused..(^_^;)

"Wait, but you complimented Mike's juggling act. Shouldn't that mean that you would like to court him??"

"Didn't you tell Victor that you thought he was sweet?? Pardon me for asking this, but are you... Interested in him, ma chérie?"

You're going to have to explain to him that just because you like a certain aspect of a person,, that doesn't mean you actually like them AS A WHOLE...

He may or not have demanded that you bake for him the next time that you two will have your afternoon tea together..(⌒_⌒;)

It's his "apology gift" as he puts it...

Okay,, I know I said that Joseph absolutely appreciates your loving side,, but he also *adores* your more "colder" side..

And no,, it's not because he's a masochist..(｡･ω･｡)

See, as much as Joseph relishes in the feeling of protecting someone he cares/loves.. Even he can admit that sometimes,, it gets too exhausting when your partner is the *literal definition* of a walking doormat..

I don't know about you,, but I kind of picture Joseph as someone who wants to have a partner that, at the *very least*,, can stand on their own two feet.. It gives Joseph a sense of pride,, see???

In conclusion,, I personally think that you and Joseph would work wonders for each other!! Different in your personalities, but united through the same common interest of photography.. I'd say its a decent balance of "opposites attract" and "similarities attract"..

🎞📷🎞📷🎞📷🎞📷🎞📷🎞📷🎞📷🎞📷

Author's note: On the topic of people photoshopping the heck out of their photos.. DON'T HARRASS/BULLY/INSULT THEM PLEASE!!! I will be blunt in saying that I frankly do not care whatever your intentions were, because when you strip said intentions away from the grand scheme of things,,

All that's left is a situation where someone insulted/bullied/harassed another person just for editing their photos a bit too much..

And when you put it like that,, wouldn't you agree that it sounds idiotic? Because in all honesty, it is..(¬_¬) After all,, those photos won't be affecting you much in the long run now,, would they??

And even if you said that you did it with good intentions, the way you acted upon these "intentions" was poorly done when it could've been handled *much* more efficiently...

So in short,, pls don't harrass anyone that you know that does these to their photos, it's not only for their sake but also yours..( ´ ▽ ` )

I apologize for ranting like that,, however I feel as though these types of situations are completely meaningless AND avoidable had it not been for the people that continue to stick their fingers into others' honeyjars.. So I personally as though it needs to be said.. Again, sorry if this rant is a bit unsettling and a bit "rough on the edges"..(⌒_⌒;)

Well that's about it.. Until next time,, I'll see you all in my next post!!ヾ(＠^∇^＠)ノ💚

#identity v #identity v imagines #identity v headcanons #identity v x reader #identity v photographer #identity v joseph #idv #idv headcanons #idv x reader #idv imagines #idv hcs #idv photographer #idv joseph #joseph desaulnier #joseph desaulnier x reader #joseph desaulniers x reader #idv matchups

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tsuumu · 4 years

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saw that requests were open and😳😳 how ab fluffy best to lovers with iwaizumi or suga? like they are best friends and seem to always be touching each other in some way like hand on waist or knees touching etc. and confession happens and maybe... just maybe... kiss... if this doesnt fickle your pickle or you feel uncomfortable then feel free to ignore! your writing is great thank you for considering🥺🥺

hi anon, thank you so much for requesting! i’ve been doing requests when i feel like them (apparently 4:28am is the perfect time to start drafting this in my mind) so i apologise for how late it is!

i’ve also decided to split this into two parts, the first being sugawara and the second iwaizumi! i love rambling about cute conventional plotlines like this so there was no way both wouldn’t be excessively long put together.

part two will be linked here when i get round to it!

enjoy!

y’know, people actually do wonder if the two of you are somehow joined to one another in some bizarre manner. it’s practically impossible to see either of you away from the other for an extended period of time. and it’s not creepy, or weird. it’s ridiculously wholesome. they only enquire because both you and koushi take that classic ‘best friend’ trope to a whole other level.

it’s sweet. sickeningly so.

we’re talking after-school dates at the prettiest little cafe just off the side of the main road. it’s barely a ten minute walk, not that you’d notice seeing as the time is filled with consistent, care-free conversations between the two of you. koushi practically begs you to come with him whenever you’re free. you’ve both dubbed it your super secret spot, since other students don’t come so often or probably even know it’s there. his teammates ask him from time to time, where exactly the two of you go. it’s usually because you’re chortling amongst yourselves about some passage of prior conversation, or beaming unanimously over the sheer deliciousness of the pastries there, made fresh.

but koushi never tells. oh no. he wants it to be ‘our spot’ as he likes to call it. you think he’s just being funny and poke his arm whenever he mentions it, agreeing jokingly that he’s not allowed to take anybody else there but you.

you needn’t worry, he wouldn’t dream of it.

he’s always early when you do go, waiting for you by the school gates. and it’s crazy, the wave of comfort that washes over you the second you lay your eyes on the boy, it’s something you can’t experience with just anybody.

you have had your fears when it comes to finishing your third year, since your sights are set on finding employment deep in the heart of tokyo, koushi on the other hand, prefers the domesticity of the urban life. he’s perfectly at home where he stands. and you love that for him, you want him to be happy, truly, but the thought of having to bid the boy farewell seems incomprehensible. like you’ve offended yourself for even contemplating the prospect.

no, you’ve never actually brought up the subject with him. it’s a little early and all too much to say out loud. plus, what if you do and he’s completely nonchalant about it? you’re practically dreading the months as they pass, wondering if sheer luck will allow your friendship to continue with such potency whilst he’s totally oblivious and dismissive when you do get round to it! oh, god. you hate it. you hate that you’re overthinking the entire thing.

you know you’re short circuiting over something so pointless, trains exist, you’ll have the funds and means of transportation... but is it? losing someone who fills your day up is like losing part of yourself. you can already imagine what it’d be like alone, going to other bistros and constantly comparing them to that one. and how lonely you’ll be. how desperate to tell him everything that happens to you. how work goes, if you’re feeling homesick. you know he’ll call you often because he cares too much not to, which you’re thankful for, but it’s not the same. he won’t be here, he won’t be there to touch you like he does now, to keep you safe.

a gulp later and you’re totally fixated on the warmth koushi emits. you’d be grieving without it.

“lost?” a light brush of your forehead rids you of your thoughts.

“hm?”

he’s lightly plucking at the strands of hair hovering above you, focusing briefly. there’s a small speck of dust that’s been caught. after a few unsuccessful attempts, he manages to get it out.

well he mutters that he’s unsuccessful, but really, he’s finding inconspicuous excuses to feel how soft your hair is against the back of his palm.

“lost you for a second there.” he replies, before shifting back, blowing the dust from his fingertip. “everything okay?”

you feel so regretful daydreaming about him in front of his face, and it’s not even that, it’s the fact you’re with him right now, right this moment. you know that time is slipping and yet you’re wasting it mulling over pessimistic thoughts of the future.

“mm. i’m alright, sorry. thank you, by the way.”

“don’t thank me.” he picks up the dainty little cup and you study the floral patterns carefully, you recognize this one. well, you’re familiar with most of them now. if one would ever end up breaking, you’d probably know, since they’re so unique in their respective decorations and there’s only a few. koushi is extra careful with it, free hand slotted under the base of the cup. it’s elegant. he’s pretty when he drinks.

actually, you were thinking about all of that because he’d brought up graduation, his match with against shiratorizawa had gone down splendidly, no doubt even he was shocked they’d made it to nationals. koushi had often lamented to you about being karasuno’s substitute setter, though he admires kageyama plenty and knows what was best for the team. he’s awfully good at putting others first, even if he really wants to play. that’s what you’d concluded. soon after nationals, comes the end of the academic year. too soon, way too soon.

that awful feeling rises up again.

his hands stretch across the table, gently engulfing yours, and it’s lovely, really, how comfortable you are with one another. how instantly calming he is.

“you’ll come to watch us play, right?”

“i always come, silly. i wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

you’ve never seen him so happy.

the evening he rushed to you straight out of the coach, breathless, telling you they’d won. it was like he was able to shine even brighter than he already did. and for a moment, you looked at him—really looked— and you wished you could’ve captured that moment, in all its glory, forever.

koushi. too good to be real, aren’t you?

you are listening, you swear to god you are. everything he says processes but realisation is eating you alive. you don’t think you can live without him. oh, you sound so flimsy, so pitiful and maybe you are. destably so. you’re too selfish for your own good.

but he’s still holding onto you, still careful with his grasp, but with the way his thumb skirts ever so gently across the ridge of your hand, he has no intentions of letting go just yet. you don’t want him to. you’d like to stay like this a while longer.

but it’s late and he’s exhausted from practice, especially now he’s doing twice the amount for nationals. he insists that even if he isn’t on the main roster, he’ll be needed. a team needs absolutely everybody to function properly.

so when he pays for you yet again, chair scraping slightly on the wooden planks of flooring to leave, your heart is caught in your throat, drenched in feeling like it’s the last time you’ll ever see him.

of course you follow him out, politely thanking the old lady who runs the cafe on your way. his feet are planted just steps away from the entrance, gaze to the sky, a flurry of darkness and escaping slithers of light. of course he’s smiling.

part of you wants to hit his arm, ask him how he could possibly be relaxed, stretching his arms lime that when you’re on the verge of losing it. but he hasn’t looked at you yet. when he does, he’ll know.

it doesn’t vanish, that affability that accompanies his grin, even when a look of concern is etched all over his face. it’s still so radiant. koushi doesn’t know how to be unkind. but he knows how to blind you.

“why are you crying?”

there he is again, thumb smearing at the tears that’ve barely slipped. you’re crying without realising. you were fine moments ago but now you’re sobbing so hard it’s difficult to breathe out. there’s nothing empty about it, they’re infuriatingly real, like you’ve already lost him. like he’s walked down the road, waved to you one last time and died.

suddenly there’s a million things you want to say to him, and another three years won’t be near enough to get them all out.

it’ll be too hard to explain over text, or call, too late too.

“ko-oushi..” you tremble out, and he knows you won’t be able to explain. he’s okay with that. just forgive yourself for now and he’ll walk you home. you don’t like to cry. you cry a lot but it never gets easier. he doesn’t mind, though. he likes how big your heart is, even if you insist it’s awful. what does worry him, though, is that someday someone might mistake it for weakness. you don’t deserve to know what true heartbreak feels like.

so, his hand’s in yours, consoling you like one would a child, always dabbing at those tears and telling you things will be alright. koushi knows that you’ll tell him when you’re ready, especially if it’s something that’s upset you this much.

“i don’t want to graduate.” is all you think to come up with, which is a blatant lie. you do want to. all you do is talk about how much you do, but you don’t want to graduate from him.

his response is a little tentative at first.

“why?”

“because.. i’ll go away. i’ll go far away and i’ll miss you.”

he’s deathly quiet, it’s terrifying.

“and if i miss you i’ll keep missing you until i can’t stand it anymore, koushi.” you ramble on, utterly humiliated that you’re confessing just how deep your dependency on him is. but you can’t stop. you don’t have time to. “i hate life. i hate that i can’t see a future without you. i don’t want to drag you back or control you in any way but god, i think i need you.”

you’re not quite sure what this is. is this.. a heated tangent, a sob-fest to a confidante, a guilt-ridden confession from an obsessive maniac? you hadn’t actually thought about what you wanted or would gain from telling him all this. perhaps it’d been bottled too long, longer than you were conscious of and this was the only resort left to release it. he’ll probably end up hating you by the time you’re done strangling out the last few words, deem you insane and ask you to seek some sort of professional help, knowing him, he’d help you find it.

it doesn’t matter. you’re talking and talking and talking, tripping unattractively over phrases and you have no intentions of stopping. not even to breathe, not like you have been anyway. you can’t even look at him whilst you parade yourself like this.

that’s alright with him. he really loves the sound of your voice.

he’s listening. he swears to god he is, but all he can think about is how happy you’ve made him. how he’d never leave you lonely.

but how could he ever convince you? unlike you, koushi isn’t the best with words. he’ll nod for hours and hours as you pour your heart out over something, and still come up empty. really, he doesn’t know what he wants either. he has ideas of the next few years, but he hasn’t even addressed the fact you’d be absent in all of it. you don’t know it, but he’s so used to you he’s practically filled you into his future automatically.

still, you’re talking, not too sure what you’re even saying anymore. and neither does he if he’s completely honest, but he’s too fond of you to mention it.

but he does it. he places his hand on the nape of your neck and kisses you.

he promises it’s not to be rude, or because he’s not interested in whatever it is you’re trying to say. but because he’s wanted to do this for ages. would it be overly dramatic to say the first time he lay his eyes on you? maybe. it wouldn’t be too far from the truth.

oh, god. he’s really kissing you.

he’s sweet tasting and nothing like you could’ve ever imagined. and believe you, you’d thought about it quite a bit. the way he’d feel against you. you’d never admit to anybody that you’d fantasied about this, feeling his tongue flutter over the seam of your mouth, hands dipping gently into the flesh of you as he tightens his hold on your waist.

why couldn’t you have accepted earlier you were fucking head over heels for him?

and of course he likes you back! he calls you his! he takes you on dates and touches you and has eyes for only you. how thick were you?

it’s alright.

at least you’ve gotten there eventually.

though a few months too late, you’re kissing him in the middle of your hometown, and he’s whispering against your lips that you won’t be losing him anytime soon.

#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu #hq #sugawara fic #sugawara x reader #sugawara headcanons #sugawara hcs #sugawara fluff

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hlupdate · 3 years

Link

He spoke to Billboard about Styles’ intensive training process -- and why he wouldn’t be surprised to see him dancing onstage again.

There’s been one pretty overwhelming reaction to this video: “This is the guy who was in the group that insisted they couldn’t dance?!” Did you expect this kind of reaction to Harry dancing?

I’ve been with Harry for 10 years: I was with the One Direction boys from the beginning the whole way through their career before they took the hiatus, and they always made a very conscious decision that they didn’t want choreography as part of their brand -- but they did want a kind of disheveled organization in order to allow the cameras and the lighting to stand a chance in terms of presenting them in the best manner possible.

Where did the initial dance-centric concept come from?

Harry and the directors, Ben and Gabe [Turner], sent me a video link to the Nicholas Brothers scene from Stormy Weather and Harry asked me, "How long do you think it would take to dance like this?" I was like, "OK, are you being serious?" "Yeah, I’m being serious."

How long did the whole process take?

We started in mid-January 2019, and we rehearsed and workshopped for about four to five weeks before the shoot, every day. Both Harry and Phoebe had other things going on, so, for instance, Phoebe was working on the new Bond movie in Canada, so I sent my assistant to Canada to work with her. I stayed in the U.K. with Harry, and then we went to L.A. where Harry shot two more videos, for “Watermelon Sugar” and “Falling.”

#harry styles #articles #tpwk #120121

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radramblog · 3 years

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Radiohead Retrospective Part 6: I try to sing along but I get it all wrong (‘CAUSE I’M NOT)

I don’t have as much to say about the lead-in to Hail to the Thief, much like I didn’t have much to say about that for Amnesiac. There isn’t as earth-shattering a shift as Kid A, and there isn’t a big story like with The Bends or OK Computer.

Hail to the Thief was (probably) the first batch of music Radiohead recorded after the sessions that produced Kid A/Amnesiac, meaning they had the full breadth of that experience to work with. What we received as a result was somewhat of a fusion of the electronic/jazz-influences of those albums and the rockier stuff of the band’s past.

Now I’ve heard a fair few complaints that this album is too long. That’s probably fair, it’s their longest album, with a total of 14 tracks, meaning it does kinda drag on a bit. Thom Yorke apparently agrees, seeing as he put out an alternative tracklist in ’08 (link) missing four songs. At the same time, I’m going to pull Death of the Author on this one, because as much as I’ve seen people complain that there’s too many songs on this, nobody ever seems to get along with which ones they’d cut- let alone people wanting to pull B-sides in the mix.

But we’re getting ahead of ourselves there, aren’t we? Suppose I should just talk about the fucking album.

We begin this record, like all Radiohead records, with studio chatter. Wait, what the fuck? Yeah, it’s quiet but it’s there. Why not, right?

2+2=5 is a lovely little banger to open on. Unquestionably a rock song, it features a very slow and quiet (and heavily panned) first half before just fucking exploding in the latter half. It genuinely might be the most aggressive track the band has put out, a manic cascade of energy and breathy falsetto that’s genuinely headbangable. It’s also a fun thing to try and read the lyrics for, since the booklet the album comes with gives up for this bit and just goes “eezeepeezee NOT” or something along that line.

Oh yeah, that’s actually something worth bringing up. Neither Kid A nor Amnesiac had lyric booklets, deliberately obscuring the actual words to the songs, to the point where people had pretty wide interpretations of what they actually were. Considering the incompleteness of 2+2=5’s entry in it’s booklet, perhaps similar occurred with that. I’m still unsure if the subtitle of this post is actually the real lyrics.

Most people, I think, read the name of this track and just kind of assume it’s about 1984, the book boomers bring up whenever their freedumbs are impinged upon. And it’s not not about 1984, but there are extremely specific political references as well- Hail to the Thief, title of the album and line in the track, is a quote regarding the U.S. President of the time, George W Bush, who lost the popular vote but won the electoral college- something that sounds awfully familiar to those of us living in 2021. “January has April Showers” similarly refers to the unseasonable weather of Bush’s inauguration.

The last thing I’d like to bring up before we finally move onto the second track is that every single song in this album has a subtitle- for 2+2=5, it’s (The Lukewarm). According to Yorke, it’s a reference to Dante’s Inferno- the Lukewarm being the people around the edge of hell, damned due to their passive indifference- the kind of people the song’s lyric, “you have not been paying attention”, is referring to. I’m literally learning these meanings now, so we’ll see how many are worth bringing up.

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Perhaps fortunately for my word count, Sit Down. Stand Up (yes the full stop/period is part of the title) (that’s not the subtitle) doesn’t have quite as much going on. Though it does have a video, for some reason. It’s a sort of repetitive trance of lyrics set to an electronic percussion, distant piano, and….I don’t know what other instrument is making those light dings. A xylophone? Interestingly, much like 2+2=5, it’s one that builds slowly into a chaotic finish, the raving of that track reflected in the almost cold mania of the raindrops the raindrops the raindrops the raindrops the raindrops……. It’s a decent enough song, but I legitimately cannot imagine listening to it ever outside the context of this album. Which is weird, because I definitely remember doing so when I was younger.

Track 3 is Sail To The Moon, a lullaby or ballad or sorts, a calm after the storm that is the previous track. Quite literally, considering it’s repeated lyric. And also literally, in that it was actually written for Thom’s son at the time. The subtitle, (Brush the Cobwebs Out of the Sky) evokes a very literal interpretation of the song’s title, which doesn’t actually reflect the lyrics.

Sail To The Moon is, as any good lullaby should be, utterly soothing. It’s calm, with Thom’s vocals just drifting across the piano, loose guitar, and percussion like a low tide. This is one of those songs I’ve come around to much more with time, because I distinctly remember skipping this a lot. You’ll find I’ve listened to this album a fair few times, though the section between 2+2=5 and Go To Sleep is one I skipped a fair bit, I think.

Backdrifts is a heavily electronic song that apparently in part predates Kid A and Amnesiac, which is kind of interesting- we’ll see a bit more of that later. As a track, it’s kind of spacy- the synth instrumental feels like something out of an eerie sci-fi film, if you notched the tempo up a bit.

Backdrifts is also the first song where I can see the “too long” argument come in. Not for the album (though I believe it’s one of the ones the alternate tracklist leaves out), but the song itself- I’m not sure this is a song that needs to be the second longest on the album (and only by a second). It’s fine, but considering what it comes off and what follows it, it’s in a bit of an awkward spot.

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Go To Sleep is another one that kinda took me a while to get. I always heard it as being one of the top tracks on the thing, but it never really clicked with me for a while. I suppose I’ve never been massive on purely acoustic-guitar-led affairs? With age, though, I’ve better appreciated the depth the song has. Possibly the folkiest song the band has, it might have taken me getting into R.E.M. to recognize what the song is.

And the song is good!

But unfortunately for Go To Sleep, Where I End and You Begin is my favourite Radiohead track.

Holy shit, this song sounds so fucking sick. That percussion, that bassline, those fucking Ondes Martenot babyyyy. The song is spacey and ethereal, but tied down by the more traditional elements of the instrumentation. The fantastical lyricism tying into very real themes of personal boundaries, how they define how people interact, and how when they fail, things tend to go badly- “There’ll be no more lies, I will eat you alive”. It’s just an absolute fucking track.

I don’t think I can possibly explain why I like this song so much. Opinions and favourites are kind of like that. But it just speaks to me. The hyper-fuzzed out guitar soloing in the bridge, the loneliness of the second verse, it’s just incredible.

Also it possibly references Optimistic with the lyrics which is cool! I also like that song a lot.

The subtitle, (The Sky Is Falling In), is something I’ve not been able to find a reference for regarding it’s meaning, but since I like the song so much, I’m going to do some interpreting. If we assume the song is about boundaries in a relationship, it’s clear that the final lyrics are the utter devastation after those boundaries are breached. But “The Sky Is Falling In” fits better with the third verse, what with the house falling into the sea- the tipping point has broken, the household (or, the house) is in freefall, the sky is falling with it. But that’s just my opinion, man.

Still with me? We’re not even halfway.

We Suck Young Blood can best be described as off-kilter, perhaps even deliberately out of tempo. A very pointed use of handclaps, typically a part of substantially more energetic tracks than the dirge this song presents. I’m sure this isn’t what the song is about, but at face value the lyrics read like some sort of social service run by vampires- give us your young blood, and we’ll make things better for you. In a way, it’s kind of fun, silly even. I suppose the claps help with that. The track is otherwise just, melancholic- slow, piano-y, even the sudden pickup barely lasts- though I always forget it’s there, making it kind of a surprise every time. Like, oh shit, we’re going somewhere for a bit, I need to put my seatbelt back on- ah never mind it’s over (and then the song keeps going for a while).

We come now to The Gloaming, the song that was originally going to be the title track for the album. They changed it, apparently, because it got rejected- too gloomy, apparently. According to Wikipedia, a fair few of the subtitles from the album’s tracks also came from proposed names for the album proper.

The song itself is also pretty gloomy, as it happens. Apparently, it’s literally about the rise of fascism, so fair enough. An electronic track, with many a repetition, feeling uneasy and cold the whole way through (making the subtitle, Softly Open our Mouths in the Cold, pretty apt). It feels almost minimalistic at times, without especially many lines running through it- and without a big crescendo like many to most of these songs have, it feels somewhat lifeless- a deliberate choice, no doubt.

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Oh shit, are we up to There There? We are! God this song fucks. Those opening drums are iconic, not to mention the way it layers onto itself. And the video! Eerie horror at its finest.

Like, I know Where I End and You Begin is my favourite song on this album unquestionably. But there is no doubt in my mind that There There is the best song on the album.

Good enough that I don’t have anything really interesting to say about it? Like many songs on this album, it’s got a big old crescendo, but the build is just so smooth, and the climax is just such a swelling. “We are accidents waiting to happen” is such a powerful lyric, and it’s hardly the only one on the song. A comment I’ve seen about the song describes the guitar as akin to laughter, a mood I can definitely see in the track itself.

Anyway the song ended so I guess I gotta move on.

I Will is kind of an interesting case. It’s unquestionably one of the most emotional songs on the album, considering it was written about a U.S. bombing of a shelter that wiped out 408 innocent people, and that’s fucking horrifying (S.O.P. for the Army it seems). It’s short, and…well it’s not sweet, but it is tragic and haunting.

It’s also a song that went through variation on variation before finally appearing on this album. Early live performances date to 5 whole years before Hail to the Thief, and considering the bombing was in 1991, it was probably written well before then. Versions of this track are kind of everywhere as a result- one early version was eventually chopped up and reproduced into Like Spinning Plates on Amnesiac- reconstructions of the process are available on citizeninsane.eu- or they were, at least, because apparently that site’s embeds relied on Flash.

I do particularly want to highlight the Los Angeles version of the song, which was a b-side on 2+2=5 (and also was on the Com Lag EP), because it’s a fuller version of the track- not necessarily better, but the full band is involved, making it a much different experience.

Track 11, A Punchup At A Wedding, has become somewhat of a meme on the Radiohead subreddit. Mostly it’s a result of the opening lyric, literally “No” 42 times over. The subtitle, for reference, is also all “No”s. On a similarly lighter note, the track is apparently a result of the band stumbling upon just a needlessly scathing review of one of their live shows, making it one of the few Radiohead tracks I could confidently say is about one person in particular. With all the second person, the lyrics probably wouldn’t be out of place on an early Linkin Park track (whether that’s an insult or not, I’ll leave as an exercise to the reader).

The slow, almost marchlike rhythm of the song well suits the tone of the lyrics, and to be clear, the tone is pretty much “Man, what the fuck is wrong with you?” and the emotions that come with being torn down by someone who doesn’t know you or really recognise what they’re doing. I suppose it’s refreshing for the metaphor to be this obvious for once. It’s a pretty decent song, piano-driven like many a song on the album, which means theoretically if I ever relearn the instrument I could play it. Maybe.

Myxomatosis, while a pretty fucked up disease, is an absolutely excellent song. If 2+2=5 is the heaviest rock song on the album, Myxomatosis is the heaviest electronic song on it. The lyricism is incredibly dark, unsettling and violent, suiting the harsh buzzing synth line. They say fuck in this one! And the way the entire song save percussion drops for the key line (I don’t know why I feel so tongue-tied/skinned alive) is so excellent. Interestingly, said line also appears word-for-word in Cuttooth, a B-side from Amnesiac, though the mood is profoundly different.

I suspect the song being named Myxomatosis and being pretty clearly about public perception and fame should give you a hint as to how the band views the media and the world of the rich and famous- the subtitle, (Judge, Jury, & Executioner), certainly adds to that. Thom sounds a mix of hesitant, confused, disgusted, and frustrated on the track, and it works incredibly well.

We’re finally on to the penultimate track, Scatterbrain. And I’m going to be honest, I don’t know what this one’s about. I’m out of patience to figure out what Genius is going on about, though it’s fairly incomplete for this track anyway. It’s relatively simple, for a Radiohead track, and pretty enough, but I can see why people don’t tend to like this one as much. I distinctly remember it being bottom of the list or close to it on a subreddit poll at some point (might have been above We Suck Young Blood, which I don’t agree with).

Scatterbrain kind of just has the problem of being a pretty decent album track, right between two of my favourite songs on the album. Which is awkward as always.

Our final song is A Wolf at the Door, and talk about a closer. Thom has described it as like waking up from a nightmare and finding out reality is worse, which is both relatable and upsetting. The song is grim, with confusing imagery in the verses leading to a desperately emotional chorus about someone’s children being fucking ransomed. Also, a bridge with more Nos than A Punchup at a Wedding, where are your No (x105) memes Reddit, get it fucking together!

The lyrics of the verses in A Wolf at the Door have a swaying flow to them that’s almost rap-like, especially since the falsetto that Thom usually sings in around this time is completely absent from them. This makes it one of the few rap-ish songs I’ve actually tried to perform, and I’d probably be pretty okay if I didn’t keep forgetting bits.

The song is just, frustration (verse 1), desperation (chorus), anger/frustration (verse 2), and back to desperation (chorus) again, which doesn’t quite fit the stages of grief cleanly, but that’s probably fine. The final vocalisation of the song (and thereby the album) feels almost like a sorrowful howl, which makes less sense the more I think about the imagery and intent of the lyrics, so maybe just ignore that actually. There is just so much imagery packed into this track, especially in the second verse, that listing it out is pointless- but it all just clicks so well, into this deluge of frustration and madness carried along by that instrumental that just seems to get lower and lower forever.

Anyway that’s the whole album, isn’t it? I’m going to keep this outro brief, because we’re approaching 3000 words at this point, but I think that fact says it all. There’s a lot of Hail to the Thief, but it never really misses per se. It has less great songs, but no bad ones. I’d argue my own biases probably cloud my judgement, but even if some of the tracks are more forgettable, the highs are so high for me that it easily stands among the band’s best.

Unfortunately, not everyone agrees with me. But that’s fine, this is my opinion, the rest of the world is allowed to be wrong.

A lot of things would happen between Hail to the Thief’s release in 2003 and the followup, In Rainbows, in 2007. But that’s ultimately a story for another day. A week from today, to be precise.

See you then?

#ramble #music #radiohead #hail to the thief

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vanaera · 5 years

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Of Cliches and Romcom Tropes

Synopsis | You find yourself literally living a classic Romcom trope by being the nerdy introvert in love with her unexpected friend, Kim Taehyung, your university’s golden theater boy and campus heartthrob. It only turns more disgustingly cliché when you learn he part-times as a prince actor in the same carnival where you work as a ticket booth attendant. Trusting on the clichés you’ve watched in numerous Romcom films, you embark on a plan to get your crush to like you back this Halloween. Pairing | prince actor!taehyung x ticket booth attendant!oc Genre | So much fluff, slight angst, humor that’s close to being crack Wordcount | 10,184 AU | Carnival Prompt | “You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on.” – “I bet you tell everyone that.” Warnings | None A/N | This is for @foreverpark’s Halloween Writing Challenge! It’s my first time joining a challenge like this so thank you so much Sarah for giving me an opportunity to experience this! For my hons out there, here’s my Halloween fic for you! Please also check out Sarah’s fics and the other fics for this challenge, they’re all great! Happy reading!

At every start of success story speeches, there is a ninety percent probability you will hear “Fake it ‘til you make it.” How Mark managed to chance upon an idea of an app, How Sarah snagged the director position she dreamed of, how introverted Kim developed progressive networks–it is an imperative that saying will pop out in every single one of these stories. Well, except yours, because it’s the other way around in your life. At times “Fake it ‘til you make it’ does makes a cut, but in most of your major life events where you desperately wished for it to work, it doesn’t really work. You know because you’ve long tried to fake you’re so invested in your part-time job, only for you to cry out at night that you didn’t want to do it anymore.

Sitting on an uncomfortable stool with a small fan on your right as reprieve from the heat, you spend most of your day with cramped legs inputting number of tickets sold, handing over ticket stubs, becoming an instant customer service attendant, and smiling through clenched teeth at the people that stop by your booth. Working the most boring job in the carnival is not something you can fake to enjoy until you make enough savings for your college tuition. That is, until Kim Taehyung came.

“Wonder boy” is an extreme understatement to describe that guy. Kim Taehyung is cute and has a model-esque body and his voice sounds so nice when he’s in his prince costume entertaining the kids who enter the Fairytale Land booth. Okay, maybe you’ve been staring at him too long than you’re supposed to when you’re at work. But in your defense, you’ve known Kim Taehyung long before you discovered he also part-times at the Enchanted Carnival–long enough for you to harbor a massive, embarrassing crush on the boy.

Kim Taehyung studies in the same university as you and you first saw him the day you didn’t attend your history class just so you can prepare for your midterms in the said subject–the irony of college students’ philosophy. That day, you just entered a classroom you frequent for study purposes, knowing it will be empty during your history period. Except for that day because the moment you pushed open the door, a stable vibrato echoing within the rooms’ walls halts in an awkward coughing fit.

Your anxiety-driven nerves immediately take over you. “Uhh, I’m sorry I just barged in I didn’t mean to interrupt you–”

“No, it’s o-okay,” the boy coughs, hitting his chest repeatedly. “I was just su-surprised.”

“I’m really sorry for interrupting you,” you take a step back, your hand grasping for the knob. “Continue on, I’ll just find another room–”

“No, it’s okay, you can share the room with me.”

“A-are you sure?” you squint, still rooted at the door. “You don’t have like, a class in here or something? You have a projector set up on the teacher’s desk.”

“Nah, it’s just my prop when I do my final runs.” He walks to the projector and flips down its lens cover. A picture of a wooden fort set in what looks like cobble-stoned streets of 18th century France flashes on the white board. “See?” The boy turns to you, grinning. “I’m cutting just like you. No pressure, mate. Stay.”

“B-but you’re practicing, I may distract you.”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind some audience–unless, you get distracted from studying by music, then I’ll go and find–”

“No, it’s okay,” you chuckle. “I don’t get distracted by music. I love music. Actually, I like listening to songs while I study so yeah, go on.” You set your papers on the nearest seat and plop down.

“You do?” The boy asks and you find yourself smiling at his beaming face. You’ve never seen someone who smiles so bright like him on a constant-interaction basis.

“Yeah, I do. By the way, what are you singing for?”

“Oh yeah,” the boy scratches his nape, reds forming on the tips of his ears. “uh, this is for my Drama club. I’m still in the application process and we have this task to play and perform as a theater character tomorrow Friday. I wanted to do Jean Valjean from Les Miserables.”

“Wow, that’s great,” you smile, “actually I’m studying for my History midterms, so yeah, your practice is very timely. You can be my background music,” you chuckle, “to give me the better feel of what I will be crying over later back at my home.”

Taehyung laughs and you chuckle before going back on your own devices. An hour and a half passes with you flipping furiously through your reviewer in time with the instrumentals behind Taehyung’s velvet voice. When the bell rings and the afternoon class scheduled in the room starts to form a mini clique outside, you scramble out the door with a mess of papers pressed to your chest and a new name to mull over during your breaks: Kim Taehyung.

Unlike what you predicted, that encounter was not the last you will have with the theater boy. You had a couple of classes with him in the next semester and he sat next to you in each lectures. You also became partners for a pair project in your Communication Theories class. Kim Taehyung became a regular presence in your college life that at the end of your sophomore year, you knew his dream of becoming a theater actor, all his likes, dislikes and insecurities, and even his secrets he said his friends knew none of like “Y/N, do you know I used to dream of becoming a Disney prince? Not used to, actually I still low-key dream of playing Shang from Mulan just so I can sing ‘Make a Man Out of You.’” You never imagined you would hit up such a friendship with someone who’s the total polar opposite of you. Taehyung’s a social butterfly while you hate going out of your house. He knows almost three-fourth of the total population in the university with him getting to manage nine clubs while still maintaining his academics. In total contrast to you who never got to join any organizations, too afraid of making commitments you neither can fulfill nor prioritize over staying at home and reading your fiction books. Not to say Taehyung’s on the top of the strata with his handsome looks, blessed physique, impressive talent, and wide range of friends. While you’re someone who easily blends with the crowd’s background noise, with nothing too much to offer but a small group of friends and a fascination for critiquing movies–especially those that are really bad.

You guess that people say, “Opposites attract” for a reason because when you and Taehyung move on to sophomore year, you find yourself crushing hard on the boy. However for you, the attraction is definitely going to be one-sided. You’re sure of it because how can Taehyung ever like you back? You’re the epitome of average-ness that you even became the stepping stone for the girls who want to snag a date with Taehyung. Of course you wouldn’t let Taehyung miss out on cute girls he can probably date when he can have any girl he wish to be with. And, you’re too chicken to act out even a hint of your feelings for him. Clammy hands, jumpy heart, and equipped with an instinct to run to the opposite hall when you so much as glance at Taehyung’s approaching figure, you are sure he will be the death of you. Everything turns worse when you learn he part-times this summer break in the same carnival you work pathetically.

“Yo, Y/N, you work here, too?” Taehyung nears you, clad in a white polo dangerously unbuttoned down his chest, navy trousers that cinches his narrow hips, and brown combat boots. He is also wearing an unbuttoned red military jacket, its shoulder pads making his shoulders look broader than they’d ever been. A rich red cape embellished with golden details flows behind him, complementing the gold tassels on his jacket and his golden crown that makes him look impossibly more ethereal. He fucking looks like a brunet Howl from Howl’s Moving Castle.

You consciously glance down at your outfit: sweat-stained purple polo shirt with Enchanted Carnival’s logo embroidered on its breast pocket, tucked in generic black slacks that doesn’t fit you well. When you reach up to tuck the stray strand of hair that escapes your ponytail, you’re reminded you’re still wearing the silly mandatory headband with pink bunny ears. Your face feels oily, your hair’s unwashed, and you just remembered you’re not wearing any makeup on. Great, you fucking look like all college students’ worst job nightmare.

“Hey, you’re still there?”

“Ye-yeah, uh, hi, Tae,” you smile awkwardly, snatching your headband off and hiding it behind your back. You tried to make yourself look less embarrassing but it backfired when all short strands of your hair messily spill down to your cheeks. You smile wider. Okay, this is the worst day ever.

“I didn’t know you’re also working here,” Taehyung says.

“Umm, yeah. I forgot to tell you, I’m sorry–”

“No, no, no, it’s okay!” Taehyung waves his hands, laughing. “In fact this is great!”

“Great?” You want to jump off from a cliff right on.

Taehyung remains oblivious in your self-pity and just grins. “Yeah, it means I get to see you everyday even when we’re outside uni!”

“We do see each other outside uni. I tutored you for six months straight in the library.”

“Yeah, but I mean, it’s nice we get to be co-workers. It’s good to have a familiar face around so work wouldn’t be so boring. Say, Y/N, why don’t we have lunch at the cafeteria later? I have so many to tell you and–”

“Yah, Kim Taehyung! You’re up next, what are you doing outside?” you glance behind your friend and see Jimin, dressed in the same uniform as you minus the silly headband, wildly waving for the boy in front of you. When Jimin notices you, he breaks into a smile, “Oh, hi, Y/N,” and then he returns to his agenda. “Taehyung come here quickly! The batch of kids is nearing the Princess’ Castle, boss is gonna chew us out if you didn’t get back to the booth in three!”

Taehyung sighs and looks at you with shoulders drooped. “I have to go back now. Guess, I’ll see you later?”

“Okay, later, then. Have fun, Tae,” you wave at him with a smile.

When you head back for your booth, you cross your fingers and hope you don’t see him later. How can the universe do you this dirty by placing him so near you right when you are at your worst?

At the end of the day, you learn the universe just does you dirty for the hell of it. Taehyung bounds your way for lunch break in his prince costume, grinning stupidly just when you’re about to sneak off to the comfort rooms. Nevertheless, you accept the lemons life is giving you and decide to relish in your crush’s presence as you joke over lunch. You just didn’t expect that day will start an unannounced routine with Taehyung eating lunch with you and him walking you home after your shifts for the rest of your summer break. The seemingly grey area in your friendship with Taehyung turns more mind-boggling when the man keeps up with the routine even after the summer break has ended, with you two continuing your part-time jobs at the carnival every weekend.

Truth be told, your set-up with Taehyung is a blessing in disguise. He may see you greasy-faced, constantly suffering at work, and daily pissed at your cramped station with poor ventilation but at least you get to see the man you fell in love with everyday. Not just the Taehyung who’s the campus crush and the talented actor every kid in the carnival loves. But the Taehyung who stays up with you until three in the morning talking about what you want for yourselves, who genuinely laughs at your puns and memes everyone else finds corny, and who tells you he’s enjoying himself in his job because finally, he gets to act like a Disney prince.

So when you find yourself only falling for Taehyung deeper, getting over him becomes the last resort in your to-do list. You start to let yourself get ahead of you and assume that maybe, just maybe, there is a chance Taehyung likes you back. Or else he wouldn’t do all those things with you with his stare lingering on your face, and his hand brushing against your own on multiple occasions you swear are not conjured up by your lovesick heart. Right?

With the Halloween season closing in and your part-time contracts at the carnival nearing its end, you are compelled to finally make a move on Taehyung. The carnival is the only place where your social and visual gap matters the least. You’re going to get an answer from him before this perfect chance expires. All you have to do now is have courage for the things you’re about to do and you pray that this time, the universe lets you successfully fake it ‘til you make it.

***

Plan 1: The Makeover Montage

You’ve watched enough Romcom films to know that a good makeover montage creates an obvious statement that a woman is about to claim her man. And so, you started making your wallet cry and your fingers ache by splurging on cosmetic brands and watching YouTube makeup tutorials. You’re proud of yourself when by the time Monday rolls in, you are confident you can pull off the cat wing and coral peach color scheme you learnt in exchange of sleep-deprived nights.

You wait by your locker and glance at your watch. 7:48 A.M. Great, just in time. You look down on your outfit: a white ruffled blouse tucked in a pink and yellow plaid skirt. Spending three hours planning today’s outfit was totally worth it, you mentally pat yourself.

Three minutes pass and then the bell chimes. You stand up straight and crane your neck to look for your target. Amy from History, Dave from Economics, Amanda from the College Secretary’s Office, Jimin from Arts and the Enchanted Carnival–There! Kim Taehyung.

Taehyung catches your eye and waves at you. He whispers something to Jimin before he bounds toward you. “Hi, Y/N. Didn’t know you’re an early bird now. I thought your first class today is later at eleven thirty?”

“U-um, I have so-something to pass to Ms. Terry at the Department of Arts and Communication,” you laugh awkwardly.

“Oh is that so? Wait,” Taehyung looks at you, eyes wide. “Is it a homework I may have forgotten to do at home?”

“N-no! There’s no homework! It’s just uh–a follow-up on a project!”

“A project? Did Ms. Terry announce any project? I’m sorry, I’m just confused because we take her class together and–”

“It’s a personal project!” you interject with a grin. “I…uh, I’ve been working on it since last month. I forgot to tell you about it, but it’s not much, just a collection of…news clippings.”

“News clippings, hmm, that sounds interesting. Tell me about it at lunch, I will go ahead now to my first period,” Taehyung steps back and makes a salute, his alternative of a goodbye wave to you. “Good luck with your project!”

“Wa-wait, Tae!”

Taehyung halts in his steps and looks at you. “Why? Is something wrong?”

“I–uh, did you notice anything new today?”

“New?” Tehyung tilts his head. “Is it a new promo for the diner we frequent?”

“Uhh, no.”

“Umm,” Taehyung bites his lip, “is it a new movie you sent to me in our Discord?”

“Uh, also no. And, I will gush about a movie first to you in person before I send it to our Discord.”

“Oh, right,” Taehyung chuckles. “Is it a new book then?”

“No.”

“New supplies in the bookstore you love?”

“No.”

“A new flavor of coffee in the vending machine?”

“No.

“A new–”

“Goddamn it, Taehyung, you know what, just go to your class,” you purse your lips and Taehyung gawks at you.

“W-why? Did I say something wrong, Y/N?”

“No, it’s just, you’re so obliviou–UGH!”

“‘Obliviou-ugh?’” Taehyung looks more confused than ever he’s been in his life.

You take in deep breath and take it as a signal for you to retreat. “Don’t mind me it’s just my mood swing!” you holler as you turn your back and walk fast to the exit. Following-up with a faint “See you later!” to the bewildered boy by the time you step out the hallway.

After what happened today, you guess Taehyung won’t easily notice your makeover with just one encounter. You decided to keep it consistent for the rest of the week, waking up earlier to curl your hair and apply makeup before going to your classes. And every day you kept trying something new – a change of shade in the lip gloss, a swipe of a bolder eye shadow, a shift from preppy to sophisticated clothing styles–Taehyung still fails to notice anything. Even when you turn up for your shift in the carnival with full-on makeup for the very first time, Taehyung just passes you by with his usual demeanor.

“Hi, Y/N!”

“Hi Tae!” You cringe at how chirpy you sound. “Umm, you look exceptionally good today!”

“Yeah?” Taehyung looks at his clothes, the same Howl costume he always wears in his shift. “Well, I look like this everytime in my shift so thanks?”

“But, have you noticed anything new today?” you bat your mascara-laden lashes for emphasis.

“New?” Taehyung leans closer to you and this time you feel your heart pounding in suspense. Of course he’ll notice it now, you never wear this much makeup at work–

“Oh, your ID lace!” Taehyung snaps his fingers, grinning. “Right, you changed your ID lace, how can I miss out on it? You always complain about the neon orange you used to have and now it’s black just like how you always want.”

You balk at him. “Uhh, it’s still the ones provided by the staff. They just changed the color.”

“Yeah, isn’t that great? You’ve always wanted a black ID lace! Remember when you used to tell me you’re gonna file a petition to change the neon orange lace to black? It’s finally black!” Taehyung claps you on the back and then makes his signature salute. “See ya later at lunch Y/N. And congrats to the ID lace!”

You poke your cheek with your tongue in annoyance. You’ve done such a good job perfecting your makeup and all he notices is just your ID lace?! What the motherfucking–

Okay, maybe Taehyung doesn’t get makeover montages. You cross Plan 1 out and step up to Plan 2.

Plan 2: The Assertive Approach

If Taehyung can’t notice physical changes, maybe this time, he can notice behavioral changes. In the films you have watched, you’ve seen countless protagonists be successful in catching the eye of their love interests by changing their flirting style. You’ve always dreamt of becoming like Julia Roberts in her hit romance films: confident, bold, and unafraid to make the first move. So this time, you get to finally be the woman of your dreams and you hope she can also entice the man inside your heart.

You started your metamorphosis by sitting closer to Taehyung during lectures, leaning closely to him whenever he’s talking with you, closing the space between your faces with a mere inch of breath. You also let your hands do the speaking for you whenever you walk home from work, masking the frequent brushing of your fingers against his, an obvious open invitation for him to hold your hand, seemingly accidental. But whatever you do, Taehyung still can’t get any hint. He’ll just smile at you and proceed to what he’s doing without even a waver in his tone.

Fueled with desperation, you decide to cross the boundary from subtle to blatant assertion in your lunch break with Taehyung.

“Today’s a pretty beat day,” Taehyung remarks, taking off his sweaty cape. “Some teens decided to not go with the usual flow of the booth and visit the stops in reverse. I felt sorry for Jimin. He looked so stressed manhandling each teen out of the booth and giving them a stricter run-over of the booth’s rules.”

“Yeah?” You slide closer next to his seat and cross your legs. “Then what about you, did the teens made fun of you? I heard from Seokjin that Lisa almost broke down when they poked around her unicorn costume.”

“I’m glad I’m the last stop. Jimin already entered the booth when the kids made the ruckus at Lisa’s stop.” Taehyung sighs, running his hand through his damp fringes. “I couldn’t imagine myself dealing with such troublesome people. If I were in Lisa’s place, I would have already been screaming at them for being bastards at such a young age. It’s a relief, it didn’t happen. I would have lost this job.”

“I’m glad, too, you didn’t get hurt.” You lean towards him, resting your head against his shoulder. You felt him stiffen in his seat and you smile. “I would have been so worried, you know. I don’t know what I will do,” you grab his hand, intertwine it with yours, and look up at him, “if I don’t see you around here anymore.”

“Really?” Taehyung turns to you and you nod. He smiles. “Thanks, Y/N, for your concern. I would feel the same if you were to experience that. Oh, we should probably eat now, our food’s getting cold.” Taehyung immediately detaches his fingers from yours, leaving you gaping in your seat.

Your lunch proceeds like usual and the awkward hand-holding you pulled off was never brought up again. Like Plan 1, you kept Plan 2 consistent for the week. However, Taehyung still remains painfully oblivious.

Plan 2 is unsuccessful so you cross it out and decide it’s time to take your game to the full notch.

Plan 3: The Vixen’s Touch

If Taehyung can’t recognize physical and behavioral changes, he cannot miss out on a temptation handed over on a silver platter. Plan 3 is the ultimate overkill. No one can resist the seductive vixen. You already braved through doing a Julia-Roberts-character. Going for the longest mile with Megan Fox shouldn’t be a problem. This is probably just your ego talking but you’re not gonna let the smallest bit of shame creep in to you now. Not now, when you’re putting all your cards on the table for Taehyung’s heart. This is all or nothing.

You see, the Vixen’s Touch is the epitome of all Romcoms’ super power move. Just one scene is enough to turn the tables around and let the heroine achieve whatever outcome she desires. However, such great power comes numerous setbacks. One can only do a vixen move once and never more because if it’s overdone, it will lose it’s mystery, charm, and power–everything that makes it an effective Romcom move. So, you planned your Vixen Touch meticulously.

You can’t do a Megan-Fox-move at school because you’ll attract too much attention, especially with Taehyung who’s already at the spotlight of social interactions. Instead, you will pull it off in the carnival, where you can have your crush all to yourself without worrying about ambitious bitches intruding your scenario. You’ll enter the Fairy Tale booth during your break time and sneak to the backstage from the “Authorized Personnel Only” door on the left of the second stop. From there, you will do Lisa’s advice to take a right turn and then a left. It will lead to a connecting hallway that ends with the red curtains behind the Princess’ Castle. There, you’ll surprise Taehyung, who’s waiting for the princess’ cue, with a tingling touch against his spine and a sexy and breathy, “Hi, Tae.” Taehyung will be shocked and you’ll close the gap between the two of you. With the dark setting and the seemingly scandalous set-up, the thrilling mood will compel you to lean towards him and he will close his eyes and interlock his lips with yours in a passionate kiss. If you make it fast to the connecting hallway, you will have enough alone time with Taehyung before the batch of people even reaches the third stop from the princess’ castle. You grin to yourself. Your plan has never been this perfect.

Weekdays pass with you continuing your Assertive Approach. Taehyung’s still clueless, making the transition to Plan 3 much more thrilling. When Saturday finally rolls in, you set your game-est face on.

It’s a week before Enchanted Carnival’s Halloween Party, which means the management is lenient on the part-timers’ work uniforms. After all, you only have one week left before you end your contracts. And so, you pull out your fanciest casual outfit–a little red dress with off-shoulder sleeves, partnered with fishnet stockings that go well with your black combat boots. You also perfected your makeup: eyebrows on-fleek, cat wings on-point, deep brown smoky eyes, and blood-red lips. To top off your look, you put on a thin, black choker. You smile at yourself. You did a good job making yourself look hot. You know it’s not just your ego talking because when you arrive at the ticket booth, Jimin compliments your look.

“Yo, Y/N, I never knew you could look this pretty,” Jimin grins at you.

"You also look good today,“ you return, taking note of how well his striped buttondown fits his frame. “I didn’t know today is leg day,” you add, admiring how his ripped jeans accentuate his legs you never knew were this muscular.

Jimin smiles, “Say it for yourself, Y/N. You look a solid twelve.” He rocks on the balls of his feet back and forth. “I guess the management did a good job letting us wear our casual clothes. You don’t know how bad I wanted to take off our horrendous uniform whenever we work.”

“That’s…highly inappropriate but I guess you do you,” you point finger guns at him. Jimin chuckles and waves goodbye to you, heading for the Fairy Tale booth. You seat yourself in your work station. Today’s a good start. You hope your luck continues until break time.

Lunch passes by and so far everything’s a breeze. You haven’t seen Taehyung today, probably caught up with the kids who frequent his booth in large batches as Halloween approaches close. Nevertheless, it’s good news. Your surprise will totally knock him off his feet.

The clock chimes two. Seokjin comes over and takes over the ticket booth as you take your break. It’s show time.

Just like your plan, you head for the Fairy Tale booth in quick strides. Lisa manages the entrance to their booth today and she lets you in without any ado, already used to you and Taehyung crossing to and fro your respective booths. Greeting Val, the Elfen soldier of the first stop and Yeji, the mermaid from the second stop, you head for the “Authorized Personnel Only” door and push it open. It leads to a darkly-lit hallway with a heavily carpeted flooring. You follow Lisa’s tips, taking a right turn and a left. True to her word, the connecting hallway ends with the thick red curtains. And there in the corner, is your dream man facing the curtains and waiting for his signal. You don’t hear any clamor of people nearing the Princess’ Castle, even the faintest of chatter inaudible. You thank the universe for this luck. You made it in time.

The seconds seem to slow down into minutes as you stepped closer to Taehyung. Your heart pounds loud and fast against your ears. This is it. You’ll finally make Taehyung realize you have your heart laid out for him. And if you’re lucky, he will also give his to you today.

With a mere foot left between you two, you reach out for him.

“Hey, Taehyung–”

“What the fuck–”

Everything happens too fast. Instead of Taehyung’s surprised face, a hard punch straight to your nose is what greets you. Intense pain spreads over your senses and you reel over, feeling your entire face on fire.

"Oh my fucking, God, I’m sorry! Oh my God, Y/N, I didn’t see you–are you alright?!“ Taehyung catches your arms as you stagger backwards, pulling you to your feet to prevent you from falling.

You nod and waved dismiss-ally to his panicked state.

Just right then, you feel something wet trickle down your lips.

"Oh my God, Y/N, you’re bleeding!” Taehyung screams and he immediately leads you to a chair propped on the corner. He frantically pulls out tissues on the table nearby and dabs the wetness that seeps on your skin. “Shit, what are you even doing here?! I thought you were a ghost, I’m so sorry I punched you!”

You’re too dazed to register everything that has happened and your lack of response causes Taehyung to panic more.

"Fuck, Y/N, I’m so, so, sorry! Oh my God, this is all my fault. Just sit right there, I’ll call for help!“ Taehyung rushes to the end of the hallway and you hear him scream for Jimin. Pounding footsteps follow and then it’s not just Taehyung fussing over you, but also Jimin.

"Do you think it’s broken?” Taehyung asks Jimin, voice trembling.

"I don’t think so. She’s not bleeding that much. Taehyung, relax, I already called for first aid–”

"How can I relax when Y/N’s in pain?! Which I inflicted on her! You know what, let’s call the ambulance!–”

This is not what you planned for. This is not how you imagined you will spend your last shift at the carnival with Taehyung.

Wetness trickles down your cheeks and before Taehyung can rush over and wipe your tears away, the Carnival’s first aid team has already barged in and crowded over you.

You were led to the small clinic of the carnival where you were given a tissue to stick in your nose. The physician told you your nose was luckily not broken and your body has just undergone shock. Once the bleeding has stopped, you’re good to go. Seokjin also called you he already informed your boss about what happened, telling you he’ll take over your shift and you’re now free to go home. The next few minutes pass in silence and you sink further onto the foldable bed. However, the universe decides it’s not yet done fucking up your day when the door opens with a loud bang and there stands Taehyung, huffing and drenched in sweat.

"I’m sorry I only got here now. Boss scolded me for what I did to you,“ Taehyung sighs deeply as he sits on the chair next to you, leaning his elbows on your bed. “I’m really sorry, Y/N. All of this wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t overreact.”

"I-it’s okay, Tae. You didn’t know I was there.“

"What are you even doing at our booth? Much more creeping in the dark?”

You bit your lip and look away. “It’s my break, it’s just,” you sigh, “I thought of surprising you today and well, it didn’t go as well as I planned it.”

"Plan? For what? Is there something we’re supposed to celebrate today?“

You turn back to Taehyung and meet his eyes. His eyes are focused on your face, waiting for your answer.

Well, maybe not all Romcom cliches work just like how they appear to be in movies. Maybe not all romantic gestures need to be grand in order to convey the sincerity of one’s feelings. Maybe it could be as simple like this– two people staring at each other in a clinic, uncaring of the world happening beyond your little bubble.

And as you stare at Taehyung’s face and see the reflection of yourself through his eyes, confused and tired, you decide it’s time for you to finally say it. No more orchestrated pretenses. No more intricate plans.

"Today is our last day in our work and I wanted to surprise you by finally being true to my feelings. I no longer look at you as a friend, Taehyung. I’m in love with you.”

Taehyung doesn’t reply. He just stares at you. You slowly feel the air getting squeezed out of your lungs, and it’s not just because of your stuffed nostril. Another beat of silence passes and then Taehyung’s face falls as he gapes at you, confused, shocked, and for a moment you see disappointment flash across his face. “W-what? Y/N, when did you-I, I don’t know what to say, I-why now?”

You bite your lip, feeling the tears well in your eyes. “Why not now, Taehyung?”

"Because–” Taehyung sighs and he purses his lips, dragging a hand over his face. “Y/N, you’re my friend, but I–”

"You know what, Taehyung, I get it,“ you turn your back on him, tasting blood on your lips from biting too hard to keep the tears at bay. You won’t cry because of him and in front of him at the same time. He doesn’t get to see you this weak. “You can leave me now.”

"But, Y/N, I–”

"Does punching me in the face not enough for you?! Just leave!“

You hear Taehyung sigh. The mattress of the bed puffs up again as the weight leaves. A faint “I’m sorry” resounds in the stifling silence. When the door closes with a soft click, the tears finally fall.

You stifle your broken sobs on your pillow.

***

You’re back in your old cycle: Eat, sleep, study, and lie low at the background. You steered clear from Taehyung in your classes, seating far away from your usual seat. You neither stopped by his locker in the mornings, nor waited for him in front of your own locker for lunch. You even went as far as avoiding your common friends, the thought of people asking about what happened between you and Taehyung makes you reel back to the embarrassment and disappointment of that day.

As much as you wanted to hate Taehyung, you find it hard to admit that every single thing that has gone wrong points back to you. You assuming anything more than what you already have with him, you doing outrageously unnecessary things for him, you bending yourself backwards in your desperation for him – it has always been yourself.

You tried to stay as identical to the background as you can be, away from Taehyung and anything that is associated with him. Because as much as you feel like an empty vessel for every single day, you cannot find it in yourself to erase Taehyung from your mind. Even when his last words with you kept on re-opening the wounds you’ve been trying hard to stitch back together. And, you can’t have that. You can’t run back to him and let him kick you back to the curb. It’s time for you to learn your lesson.

But no matter how successful you were the past days in running from Taehyung, you know you cannot avoid him forever. Especially when Enchanted Carnival has required the part-timers to attend their annual Halloween Party tomorrow, arranged by their permanent staff. After all, it’s the day you’ll terminate your contract and receive your last salary for your job.

You have never sorely regretted your past decisions like this before. You’re love-fool state of mind back then has induced you to buy an expensive costume. A fancy dress that has a carnation pink rayon bodice and full skirt, layered with delicate purple cotton voilewhich looks like soft rose petals that perfectly cinch the waist. It has long, glittered see-through sleeves that ruffle at the end of your arm, and it is adorned with golden intricate curvilinear details that go around the bust area and matches the golden flower belt on the waist. It even came with a faux golden crown with a short pink veil attached to the back. Yes, you fucking bought a princess bride costume just to match with Taehyung’s usual work attire because of course, Taehyung will come looking like a Disney prince. And now that everything you planned has gone downhill, the excitement is over and the only thing you feel is bitterness and a desperate wish to get things done and over with.

You reached the carnival at seven and by that time, the party is in full swing. Enchanted Carnival looks like a cirque-esque other-world. Small Jack o’ Lanterns replaced the usual light bulbs to light the carnival in an alluring tangerine glow. Signboards of “Happy Halloweens” range from small cutouts that hung from the poles, to gigantic illustrations pasted right on the walls of the some stalls. Pumpkin and ghost-shaped candies were sold at almost every corner and the people that pass by, carnival staff or not, embody the fantasy and surrealism of the carnival. You’ve seen pirates, sirens, faeries, and even witty realistic horror such as Jung Hoseok, the roller coaster attendant, wearing casual jeans and shirt with electric bills pasted on his chest and back.

“Hey, Y/N! I thought you weren’t coming.” You look to your left and see Lisa in a No Face costume. Seokjin follows close behind, dressed like Sokka from Avatar: The Last Airbender.

“Uh, yeah–I mean,” you clear your throat “how can I not come when I get to be paid at the end of the night?”

“Yeah, that’s the spirit,” Seokjin chuckles. “The salary is my only motivation when I lost a bet to Yeji and agreed to dress like…this.”

“Hey, Sokka’s not bad!” Lisa frowns. “Avatar: The Last Airbender is the best show ever and Sokka’s like a perfect ten.”

“Yeah, but it would have been better if you know,” Seokjin huffs, “I get to be Toph. So I can finally un-see Hoseok’s stupid’s antics, especially his dumb electric-bill costume tonight. It doesn’t get to be low-cost, witty, and funny all at the same time. It’s unfair.”

You laugh, feeling your jaw hurt a little from smiling so wide. It’s been a while since you smiled, with the past days spent crying and moping around in your room. You’re grateful for Lisa and Seokjin who tried to cheer you up throughout the night, distracting you from thoughts that revolve around Taehyung by pulling you into ride after ride, playing games in stall after stall, and stuffing your mouths with delicious treats.

You were having the best night of your life, until you find your group stopping in front of a booth – The 13th House.

You turn to Lisa. “Hey, you didn’t tell me a horror booth is included in our itinerary.”

“Because I don’t need to,” Lisa grins. “Horror booths are a classic! How can Halloween be Halloween without some spook?”

“Right, and relax Y/N,” Seokjin says, “It’s not like we’re gonna leave you. And trust me, it’s not that scary. I already visited this booth to prank Jungkook. Too bad I was unsuccessful that time with Jungkook already immune to jumpscares from manning the effects and all.”

Except it is scary. The 13th House is the only booth you didn’t dare to visit during your entire work period. Your remember how your legs turned to jelly the first time you saw its front: An old gothic mansion with dilapidated walls and broken windows, its wooden main door covered in bloody handprints, and its gray, dry lawn surrounded by amputated body parts. You know all of it were just manmade but it doesn’t lessen the creeps you get when every detail and props are fashioned too realistically.

Nevertheless, you went along with Lisa and Seokjin and get your ticket-bracelets scanned by the booth marshal. Even if you feel like running away the moment you hear the loud, sinister creak of the main door when you start for the first stop, you stood your ground and wear your big girl game face on. It’s your last night in the carnival, might as well do everything you were never able to do before.

The first half of your trip in the booth were somehow a smooth ride. Although you almost jumped at the scream of the bloody Victorian bride from the first stop, almost backed out on the second stop because of the swinging headless knight, and almost cried on the spot because of the wailing man with its guts ripped apart from the third stop, you’re still far from getting scared out of your wits.

That is, until you reach the middle stop.

The fourth stop required you to do an easy escape-room task with a ghost kid guiding you through a fake Ouija board session. You quickly finished the activity and the wooden walls shifted to reveal a small passageway with thick hanging cobwebs. Lisa leads the way and you find yourself gripping her hand and Seokjin’s tighter as you enter a dark hallway lit only by torches fastened to gray, blood-splattered walls.

And then, out of nowhere, foreign hands cover your eyes. You scream and thrash around but your suffering is only momentary when you find yourself back in the hallway with no looming figures behind your back. Okay, maybe it’s just part of the booth experience–Wait. Where’s Lisa and Seokjin?

“Lisa! Seokjin!” You call for your friends’s names. They were just with you earlier. You were holding their hands for Christ’s sake! “Where are you, guys?! This is NOT funny!” You bite your lip and wring your hands in anxiety. “Guys, I swear to God, this is not fun–”

The lights of the torches flicker. The background music starts to grow louder, and eerier as it now plays with Latin incantations. And then there’s a loud bang.

The lights were blown out. The blood-splattered designs on the walls turn neon. And, the rest of the hallway goes complete dark-out.

“Holy shit!” You run, straight ahead. Heart pounding loud on your ears, you don’t think anymore and just run. Surely, there will be some end to this hallway, right?

Except there’s none, because a forked path greets you just right when you thought the hallway is getting too long. The two paths stare at you, the neon designs on their walls starts to get disturbing with child-like drawings of disfigured people and morbid beasts.

You slump on the ground. This is a complete nightmare. You wish you didn’t go with Lisa and Seokjin. You wish you didn’t let your loneliness get to you and spent the whole week crying about your crush who doesn’t like you. Because now you’re trapped in this hellish booth and you’re gonna die alone and pathetic. You didn’t even get to experience at least the “moving on” happy ending alternative of Romcom films. You didn’t –

Just right then, there’s a flash of light from the end of the left path. A second later, a voice echoes loud. You didn’t understand a word from the echo. Hell, you’re not even sure if it’s from a human. But at least it seems to have a light that is nothing part of 13th House’s props. Before thinking twice, you’re already running toward the direction of the light. You run and run and never dared to stop. The light’s getting near, you’re gonna get help soon! You won’t have to die alone because you’re gonna get out of here and–

Light blinds you.

"Ahh!“

"What the fuck-! I’m sorry!”

You feel the light on your face dim down. And the moment you bring down your raised hands, you can’t seem to speak.

"YN?“

Taehyung stands in front of you, flashlight in hand, and looking handsome as always. But, it’s not his presence that makes your heart still. Enchanted Carnival’s purple polo shirt, generic black slacks, and the silly headband with blue rabbit ears atop his head–Taehyung’s wearing the carnival’s ticket booth uniform.

And Taehyung’s jaw is ajar seemingly for all the same reason. Pink princess gown and glittering princess crown–you were an open book to him now.

"You…you’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

All of a sudden, everything that has happened in the last weeks comes back to you and you feel your eyes stinging with tears as the dam of bitterness floods your chest. “I bet you tell everyone that,” you scoff, “since you’re such a disgusting flirt.”

Taehyung’s mouth hangs in shock, “Di-disgusting flirt? You’re the only one I told you that!”

You stand back to your feet and meet his eyes with a steely glare. “I find it hard to believe that, Kim. Especially your type of guys.”

Your eyes seem to do tricks to you when you see Taehyung wince at your tone, but that wasn’t for long because Taehyung now sounds defensive. "What are my type of guys?“

You scowled. "The type who leads on girls and cruelly rejects them after they’re done playing with them.”

"What rejection are you talking about? I did not reject you! How could you-“

"What else could your reaction mean when I told you I love you?!”

"I was trying to move on from you, okay!“ Taehyung screams. "And that day, you just–dropped the bomb like that. How do you expect me to react huh? Especially, when I fucking spent one year trying to make you realize I see you more than as a friend and you just ignore me as if my feelings don’t matter to you. And then, when I finally decide to move on from you, you act weird for a couple of weeks. And out of nowhere you’re telling me you love me. How can I even react properly? You didn’t even wait for me to process things,” Taehyung’s voice breaks, “You just up and go and shut me out!”

"W-what?“

"I liked you, Y/N. For so long. And you never turned my way–you wave off my advances as if they mean nothing to you, you keep on setting me up with other girls, and you run away from me whenever I so much glance at you. You don’t even let me see you properly when we’re at school. You hide from me and run away as if you’re gonna die just by being with me. And last week, you’re suddenly telling me you love me? So, how can I be a disgusting flirt when you’re the one who’s sending me mixed signals?!”

"Mixed signals?“ you frown. "For the past year I’ve been your friend Tae, I tried to love you in my own way. I stayed up late with you as you told me all your problems. I’ve been there with you in whatever shenanigans you thought of. I spent almost every break I fucking have with you talking about whatever we want. They are blatant signals, Taehyung! So I’m sorry if I have to hide or run away sometimes, because if you didn’t fucking know, we don’t belong in the same world.”

“What do you mean we don’t belong in the same world? Fucking hell, Y/N, you’re not an alien–”

“In your world, I am! In your world, you are the star, the life of the party. People who belong in your world live their fucking fantastic lives as the star of their own stories. They achieve their dreams, they get whatever they want, people look up at them for being so great. But, people like me? We spend our fucking lives looking into your world from the outside. Pathetic side characters of their own pathetic lives. People just pass us by, some even run over us. No one even remembers our fucking name. So, even if these don’t matter when I look at you, I can only love you from afar because people will look at us and all these shits will come back for me.”

“Jesus Christ,” Taehyung huffs, carding a hand through his hair in frustration. “There are no worlds separating you from me because people are just different! And these differences cannot dictate who should belong with who because guess what? We’re the only ones who can let other people in or out of their lives. So can you just stop for a second and see that there’s nothing that actually separates you from me? I thought you would already know this by now since we’ve been friends for so long.”

You feel tears blurring your eyes and you look away from him. “But still, that’s not enough to explain all the shits that’s happened this past week. Okay, we may be different and I tried to express my feelings in my own way. But I tried to change it up, Tae. I worked so hard to pattern my advances to every Romcom clichés and of course they all went wrong when it came to you.”

“W-wrong? Y/N, what Romcom cliches–”

“The cheesiest Romcom clichés!” You snap. “You know, the makeover montage, the Julia Roberts’ Assertive Approach, the Megan Fox Vixen Touch. You were telling me how oblivious I were to your advances but you never fucking noticed how I changed up my advances just for you. You ignored how I dressed up pretty-to-the-tip for you. Even after I came to you and blatantly asked you if you noticed something new. You don’t take the cue when I freaking hand over my feelings for you in a silver platter. Hell, you even punched me in the face when I tried to be sexy!”

“God, can you let it go? I already said I’m sorry!” Taehyung huffs and you look down on your feet. Taehyung sighs, “I was trying to move on from you during those weeks you’ve acted really, really weird. So obviously, I will be very confused. Secondly, Y/N,” Taehyung sighs, “Romcom clichés are called like that because they only happen and work the way they are portrayed to work, in Romcoms. Romcom is a film genre. Sure, they may reflect some aspects of reality, but Y/N, they are planned out, manipulated in a controlled environment. They’re not your life. Life doesn’t work that way.”

“I’m sorry, I just–” you bite your lip but it’s not enough to prevent a tear slip from your eyes. “This is my first time feeling like this and I don’t know what to do. I absolutely have no fucking idea what I should do next and I–I’m just so sorry for dragging these shits up and made our lives messier than it should be. I’m sorry for probably making you feel guilty about yourself for this past week I ignored you like the plague. I’m sorry for being so stupid, I just–I’m so sorry, Tae!” your voice breaks at the end and before you know it, your tears have already consumed you to the ground.

"Oh shit Y/N, don’t cry.” Taehyung panics as he kneels next to you. You shield your face from him with your hands, but Taehyung pries them away and cups your face in his large, warm hands. You feel the pads of his fingers wipe away your tears and when you look up at him, Taehyung’s face is too close to yours. Too close that you can practically see the deep, dark circles under his eyes despite the darkness. The thought that you caused him this made you tear up more.

Taehyung goes frantic. “Y/N, do-don’t cry. Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry. Y/N, I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry–”

“C-can you just h-hug me?”

“O-okay,” Taehyung hesitantly loops his arms around your shaking frame. “Thi-this is fine with me.”

You close your eyes and lean on your friend’s chest. You don’t care if Taehyung’s shirt get wet with your tears. He’s partly at fault for making you cry. But still, you squeak out a muffled. “Thank you, Tae.”

Taehyung hums. “It’s okay.”

Amid this night’s horror and breakdown, silence, for the first time in a while, envelops you in comfort. Even with no words, Taehyung easily dries away the tears. He just pats your back and rubs soothing circles on your tensed muscles, leaning closer to you when you hug him tighter.

“I hate fighting with you, Tae.”

Taehyung turns his head closer to yours. “Are we already fighting?”

“W-well yeah,” you hiccup. “Somehow.”

“Okay…Next time we’ll understand each other better so we don’t need to have unnecessary fights like this, okay?”

“Okay,” you mutter. You sink deeper into Taehyung’s arms and he holds you tighter in his embrace.

Even if you can’t see his face, you know Taehyung’s smiling.

It doesn’t take long for your sobs to die down that you’re now slowly disentangling yourself from him.

“Are you okay now?”

“Y-yeah. Thank you.” You lean your back against the wall and Taehyung sits next to you. You look at him and he smiles at you. For a moment you stay like that, staring into his eyes, falling deep in the little world you’re sharing with him. And then, it hits you. Taehyung’s still here. Even after you blurt out every insecurity and self-doubt you have that others may find petty and invaluable, Taehyung’s still here. Even after he voiced out his disappointment of you and things you’ve done him wrong, Taehyung hasn’t walked out. He didn’t run away, he didn’t leave you. Taehyung stayed.

And so, you take the cue the universe is giving you and put all your cards on the table again. You cross your fingers as you ask the question that has plagued your mind ever since Taehyung confessed he has long liked you. "Tae, Ha-have you already moved on from me?”

Taehyung sighs and for a second, you don’t breathe. But, you don’t have to hold it for long because when Taehyung looks at you again, a soft smile is on his face. “Unfortunately, no. Because even after all the shits you put me through, you still occupy my heart–and mind.”

“S-so, can I kiss you?”

“I’m the one who’s supposed to say that, but, ye-yeah you can kiss me. Anything for you, Y/N.”

You close your eyes and lean forward. Your lips meet his in a soft peck and everything suddenly stops. You don’t feel the perspiration on your back from all the running in the booth. You don’t think about the dust and dirt soiling your dress. All you could feel was Taehyung’s soft lips. All you could taste is the sweetness from the crumbs of cherry tart left on his lips. All that fills you nose is Taehyung’s smell that’s so naturally his and his ocean mist spray you gifted him on his birthday. All you could hear is the loud pounding of your heart, and even with your eyes closed, Taehyung’s face is all you could see. And, you can’t think of anything but Taehyung–him and him alone.

The world suddenly moves again when Taehyung leans deeper and interlocks his lips with yours. You immediately let your heart take over. You mold yourself closer to him, kissing him with every ardor you’ve kept locked in yourself for so long. You fist his shirt and Taehyung caresses your cheeks and puts his hand on the back of your neck as he kisses you deeper. You loop your arms around his neck and return the vigor of his kiss. Teeth bumping, fingers reaching and clutching onto anything, sloppy interlocking of lips–you don’t care. Even if you have your first kiss in a gloomy, creepy horror booth, nothing else mattered but the boy in front of you. Taehyung’s here and he’s finally in your arms. You don’t have to long for him from afar anymore because now he’s here with you and he’s not leaving you. He’s finally yours.

The same thought probably runs into Taehyung as you feel him grin into your lips before kissing you again. And even when the creepy background music of the booth starts again, you can only focus on the gentle way Taehyung’s thumbs coursed over your cheeks while tenderly pecks your lips as your kiss comes into a close.

As you draw back a little to look at your friend, your crush, and now your lover, Kim Taehyung, in the hideous purple uniform you used to wear in the ticket booth with silly rabbit ears perched atop his hazel locks, you can’t help but smile. Taehyung may be the center of the world while you watch him from the side, but at the end of the day, he’s right. You’re just two people who are happy being with each other. There’s no boundaries, no walls separating him from you and you from him. You just have to see him for what he is and take the leap. You don’t need to re-enact Romcom clichés just to bring him towards you because he’s never been away from you from the start.

Taehyung leans his forehead on yours and smiles. “I love you, Y/N. I’ve waited for so long for this.”

“Me too,” you grin, “And, I love you too, Tae.”

Taehyung chuckles and presses another peck on your lips.

Just right then, you can feel a vibrant white light on your face.

“Yo, lovebirds, are you finally together?”

You turn to the direction of the voice and it’s Jimin. Behind him are Lisa and Seokjin, walking from the right pathway while making kissy faces at you.

It all clicks in: Lisa and Seokjin hanging out with you, leading you to the 13th House, and disappearing like smoke the moment you reached the longest hallway of the booth. It’s to get you alone with Taehyung and finally talk everything out before you leave your part-time jobs.

You frown at your friends. But, before you can voice out how can they just up and leave you like that, Taehyung beats you to it.

“Jimin, you bastard! You pushed me towards the backstage passageway, shoved a flashlight into my hand, and just left me in the middle of this fucking scary booth. Is this how you treat your best bud?!”

Jimin laughs. “But at least you got the girl!”

“Yeah,” Lisa says. “Watching you two stupidly tiptoe around each other for so long started to make me sick.”

“And we know you two can’t sort out your stupidity alone, so we decided to give you a little push.” Seokjin looks at Taehyung. “Quite literally in your case.”

Taehyung scowls and opens his mouth but Jimin cuts him to it.

“Thank me later, lover boy. It’s time we get out of this booth. Jungkook’s gonna piss me out for practically renting the 4th stop without paying.” Jimin heads to the right path where he came from. “So let’s take our exit now so you two can finally ride together into the sunset.” He turns to you and Taehyung and smirks, “Well, literally and figuratively.”

Taehung attempts to hit him but Jimin scampers away and hollers, “You’re welcome, bro. And you too, Y/N!” Lisa and Seokjin laugh as they follow Jimin, leaving you and Taehyung walking at the back.

Taehyung turns to you. “So…are you free tomorrow? I realized I haven’t taken you to a date yet. Like, a date date”

“Yeah, I’m free. But, where will we go?”

Taehyung rubs his nape. “Well, I don’t know yet…I’m sorry I asked you when I don’t have any plans yet, I just want to be with you tomorrow–”

“It’s okay,” you smile. “We can meet at the carnival, then.”

“The carnival?”

“Yeah. Not as the prince and the ticketbooth attendant or vice versa. Just Taehyung and Y/N.”

Taehyung smiles. “I would like that. Pick you up at your house on five?”

“That’s alright with me,” you lean into his arm and look up at him, “boyfriend.”

Taehyung blushes and you giggle. You let him hold your hand as you make your way out of the horror booth to spend the rest of Enchanted Carnival’s Halloween Party with a salary waiting for you, happy and giddy, and most importantly, in love.

In every success story, there is a ninety percent probability you will hear “Fake it ‘til you make it.” Sometimes, it worked out for you, but most of the time, it didn’t. Like how you tried to use this tactic to get your crush to like you, your plans don’t usually go the way you expect them. But it’s okay, because life doesn’t work that way. It took you stressful planning days, frustrating reactions, and tearful nights for you to realize that life is not always a stage where people can just “fake” everything ‘til the script is fulfilled. Roles can be changed and mistakes can happen. What’s important is: You may have not “fake it ‘til you make it,” but at least you worked for it ‘til you made it.

A/N pt. 2 | I wrote this fic after having a massive eureka moment and I haven’t edited this out yet because it’s 2 A.M. and we die like brave men here. Anyway, planning this story was really a challenge! This is the first time I tried this AU so I researched stuff and had to like, fix and re-fix some of my plot points as I write through. Second, I wanted to incorporate the adorable prompt in a completely unexpected way so I hope it did what I intended for it to do. Also, I enjoyed making up the names of the Romcom clichés OC used. They are literal Romcom clichés but I can’t find what they’re officially called (aside from Makeover Montage) so I just made the rest up AHHAHAH. I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it!

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sammysdewysensitiveeyes · 4 years

Text

Pyro and writing (more headcanons that no one asked for, because Pyro the writer is one of my favorite character traits of his that Marvel constantly neglects)

-Overall, his writing is good, but not much more than that. If he puts in a lot of effort, it can be great, if he’s rushing, it drops down to terrible. All his books have a few moments of really good writing, showing the potential that he has, and also moments of really dreadful writing. As long as he gets paid and people are entertained, he’s satisfied, although he does get frustrated when he knows a scene isn’t flowing well, and he doesn’t have the time or skill to fix it. It’s difficult to make a living as a writer (and frankly, he wants money), so he tends to bang things out quickly and publish as much as possible. His Marvel bio says that his books were widely read around the English-speaking world, so I’m guessing that he was at least somewhat popular. Like, he wasn’t at a Stephen King or Danielle Steel level, but people at least knew his name.

-It’s never been clear to me whether his identity as Pyro was publicly known, but I’m thinking it must have been. If it wasn’t revealed after the Brotherhood went to jail for the first time, surely it would have been revealed after he died saving Kelly, completely out of costume. I’d imagine it was a mind-fuck for fans who read his books. Apparently he was still writing and publishing during the Freedom Force era, so either the general public didn’t know, or being a mutant terrorist didn’t lose him any readers.

-He willed the rights for any future royalties to Avalanche when he died. That didn’t amount to much at the time, but his work became popular again after he died, and publishers re-printed several titles to make a quick buck. Avalanche wound up with a tidy sum that he used to buy his bar.

- Pyro has a generally realistic and easy-going attitude about his own writing. He thinks it’s at least decent writing, but he knows it’s not anything fantastic or ground-breaking. He’s read the reviews tearing him apart, he knows he’s generally thought of as popcorn, fluff reading (and he’s okay with that), he’ll cheerfully refer to himself as a hack. But he does get annoyed if someone keeps harping on him as a bad writer, especially if that same person is claiming that writing is easy, like “Any idiot can bang out a romance novel.” At that point, he turns to, “Oh really? How many books have you published? How many books have you even written? Oh, zero? You’ve written no books at all? Then kindly shut the fuck up.”

-He gets similarly annoyed when people disparage the romance genre as being trashy or shallow, especially since there are plenty of popular thriller/mystery/horror/spy novels that Pyro thinks are equally terrible, but those genres don’t have the same bad reputation that romance does. He argues that romance is just like any other genre - a lot of it is terrible, some of it is complex and beautifully written. And even if it is terrible, who cares? Even the terrible stuff serves its purpose. He usually doesn’t try to defend the genre with his own work (he knows he’s not winning any battles there), but he’s got a few favorite authors that he’ll bring up. He does read romance on his down time, he genuinely enjoys it.

-There are a few authors he absolutely fan-boys over, but I don’t know enough about romance as a genre to name specific names. Once, long ago, one of his favorite authors wrote a moderately favorable review of one of his books, and he literally jumped around his living room from sheer joy. He cut the review out and framed it.

-He always writes straight romance, because that’s the largest market and biggest potential seller. His heroines are always women, and he writes entirely from their perspective. He’ll claim that it’s because most of his readers are women, but it also leaves an element of separation between him and the character, which makes it a lot easier to project all his issues into the story. Which he does do, quite frequently. Sometimes he tries to write gay male romance, just private stories for himself, but it always feels too personal. He does start sticking same-sex relationships into his books, though, just in the background. He couldn’t be too overt without losing some of his readers (at the time that he was writing), but he’d slip in little hints.

-He writes a lot about characters having to hide aspects of their identity, which is his way of dealing with both the mutant thing and the gay thing. One of his heroines is a white-passing WOC, and her experiences listening to white characters say horribly racist things is very much based on Pyro listening to friends and co-workers say terrible things about mutants. Of course, it’s rather problematic for him to use race in this way, but he’s definitely got some problematic tropes in his writing. He doesn’t mean to use it as a metaphor, just an.....emotional outlet.

-Speaking of problematic, given the time period that Pyro was writing, I think some of his travel articles definitely lean a bit Orientalist. There’s nothing overtly or consciously racist, he has a great deal of respect and appreciation for the countries and the cultures that he’s visiting. But he plays up the image of “exotic” and “mysterious” Asia, especially in his earliest articles, because he’s desperate to catch readers’ attention and keep them interested. If someone brought it up to him now, he’d probably angrily deny it....but he’d also wince re-reading some of his early stuff. “Yeah, okay, that’s a bit over the top there.” He gets much better about it later.

-He puts a lot of self-deprecating humor into his travel articles. He tends to naturally be something of a braggart and exaggerate when he tells stories, but if he writes about himself as a sophisticated world traveler having wild adventures, he’d sound like Gilderoy Lockheart a complete prat. And Australia’s tendency towards Tall Poppy Syndrome would probably make his work unpopular. So he puts in a lot of his own stupid mistakes, and presents himself as an adventurer who’s also a bit of a silly ass, bumbling his way through a culture that he doesn’t fully understand. The events he depicts are mostly true, if exaggerated, but he tends to omit any mysterious occurrences involving fire. Can’t have that, can we?

- He loves the idea of fan fiction. He was writing fan fiction as a child without knowing the term for it. And fan fiction of his own work? He is flattered and delighted. Of course, he does get rather frustrated when fan fiction depicts his horrible Sebastian-insert as a sympathetic character, but he’ll grit his teeth and put up with it. Because he’s just so happy that someone liked his work enough to want to write their own version.

#pyro #st. john allerdyce #I have too many thoughts about pyro #someone has to actually care about the character if duggan won't

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guessmonsta · 4 years

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YOUR BOKUTO + KUROO WINGMAN FIC WAS SO FUNNY!!!! I was literally laughing the whole way through. The way you write is so funny and wholesome I can't get enough of it. If it's possible, can you please please please do a part two to the Bokuto fic? I just wanna see him fall in love, that's all. Thank you so much!

If you read ANY of my college AU fics involving Bokuto, Kuroo, or Tendou, you know that I made them all friends. They need to be friends, I don’t even care what you say or what you believe. Tendou was cheated from being in the third gym, period. He’s stupid and lovely and has stupid crazy hair and would be best friends with Kuroo and Bokuto instantly. Also this is stupid long, and for what? And for what? I’ll probably end up doing part three too??? And that's being a slut for Bokuto.

Also here’s part one

Bokuto stared blankly at his phone screen, almost expecting something to happen without him putting the work in.

Her contact stared back at him, reading, “__”, with a bunch of heart emojis after her name. He would never admit that he put the hearts there himself, though. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to gain out of just staring at her phone number, his phone wasn’t going to text her itself. To be honest, Bokuto hadn’t created a mental plan past talking to her in the cafe that Saturday,and he sure as hell never expected her to give him her number. He wasn’t even sure how long he was supposed to wait before he texted her. It was Monday morning, had he waited too long? Did she forget about him all together? Does she even want him to text her?

Bokuto shook his head and sighed, then set his phone face flat on the dining hall table. His friend, Satori, looked up at him, and cocked an eyebrow.

“Somebody’s got his panties in a twist today.” Satori hummed, setting his own phone down in the same fashion.

“You think I wear panties?”

Satori stared at him dumbfounded, then scrunched his face. Choosing to ignore it, he took a jab at his fruit salad, then chuckled.

“Is it that girl?”

“Wait, how do you know?”

“You say this as if Kuroo didn’t post a three minute long video to his snapchat story about spitting up iced coffee everywhere in public.” Satori laughed.

“Drama queen.” Bokuto sighed. “I just really don’t know how to talk to girls.”

“You?” Satori cocked his eyebrow again. “You don’t know how to talk to girls?”

“Nope.”

“Damn.” Satori chuckled again. “See, I was under the notion that you were a popular Pretty Boy in high school. I mean, look at you,” Satori’s eyes scanned Bokuto up and down, then he winked. “You’re like the universal standard for male attractiveness.”

“I mean, I guess, but,” Bokuto sighed. Getting dejected over nothing wasn’t his plan for this morning, but Satori knew how to handle it. “When I was in high school I never really put a lot of thought into dating girls. Like yeah, I had a couple girlfriends here and there, but, like, volleyball was my real girl, you know?”

Satori shot Bokuto a stank face, then shook his head.

“You mean to tell me in high school, in your prime, you could have gotten any girl you wanted and you were the asshole who turned girls down because volleyball came first? Wo-ow, what a problem you have.”

“I know! I know. Now that’s my problem. If I had paid more attention to my relationships in high school then maybe texting this girl wouldn’t be so hard.” Bokuto shrugged. Maybe Satori didn’t know how to handle it all that well, because all he could offer was a confused stank face.

“Listen, you and I both know that you’re hot. If she gave you her number, then she’s obviously into you. Just shoot you shot.”

“But I don’t play basketball, Satori!” Bokuto groaned. “And what am I even supposed to say? “Hey remember those two idiots who came in and spit up everywhere? Hi!”

“Yes! Literally that’s exactly what you should say!”

“But should I?”

“God have mercy! You’re hopeless!” Satori sighed dramatically, then flinged a grape off of his plastic fork at Bokuto’s face. Bokuto winced, then ate the grape to spite him. “Oh, and you better get moving, your practice starts in ten minu-utes.”

Bokuto looked back at his phone, and realized it was 9:50. If he had texted __ now, he would be thinking about her replying all throughout practice. If he had waited to text her until later, he would be thinking about what to say the entire time anyway. It was a lose lose situation for silly little Bokuto in love, he realized. He finished his waffles in a hurry, gave Satori a quick, harsh, and unexpected bro-hug, then jogged off to practice.

By the time practice was over, Bokuto was sweaty, tired, and couldn’t stop thinking about __. He knew that Kuroo had been watching him all throughout practice, especially when he cackled when he missed a very direct hit on the cleanest set he had ever seen. Kuroo took a seat next to him on the bench, wiped his forehead with a rag, then snapped it against Bokuto’s arm.

“Ow!” Bokuto jumped, grabbing the towel from Kuroo’s hands then wiping it against Kuroo’s ass as he attempted to jump up and run away. Kuroo cackled again, something he seemed to be doing a lot lately. Bokuto’s crush was a free ticket to Comedy Central for Kuroo.

“Satori texted me and told me you were a pain in the ass at breakfast.”

“Did he actually?” Bokuto whined.

“No.” Kuroo chucked. “But he didn’t have to tell me you were having a crisis for me to know that you’re having a crisis.”

“You know me that well, bro?”

“Always, bro.” Kuroo held one hand over his heart, then pat Bokuto on the back. “But you gotta text her.”

“O-okay, o-okay fi-ine.” Bokuto sighed. “What do I even say?”

“Listen, just because I’m charming and handsome doesn’t mean that I can carry your entire relationship for you and that lovely little barista.” Kuroo shrugged. “Just be yourself. She obviously likes you.”

Bokuto whipped his phone out of his pocket, and it automatically opened to __’s contact. Kuroo’s cheeks puffed up into a laugh, then he wheezed, again. Maybe Bokuto had to stop being so obvious.

Bokuto clicked the message icon, and quickly, without even thinking, typed-

Hey __! It’s Owlboy Sexyman from the cafe Saturday. How are you!

And he sent it. Without a second thought. He sighed, then set his phone down on the bench.

Before Kuroo could even ask him what he sent, he heard his phone chime. Bokuto gasped, then Kuroo gasped, and Bokuto leaped for his phone.

Hey Bokuto!

I was starting to think you didn’t see my number on the cup lmao

“She remembers my name!” Bokuto beamed. “She remembers my name, Kuroo! Oh my god!”

Bokuto jumped up from the bench, and turned his screen to Kuroo.

“Oh my god, dude, stop, stop, I can’t read the message, you’re jumping too much.” Kuroo laughed. “What did she say!”

Bokuto tossed his phone at Kuroo, then clapped his hands together into a praying motion.

Kuroo read the messages, then cocked an eyebrow.

“Du-ude.”

“Du-ude!” Bokuto couldn’t stop beaming.

“Bokuto, where the hell was this energy during practice!” An older teammate shouted at him, then laughed. Bokuto ignored this statement completely. Once he got the ball moving, it was going to keep its momentum.

Later at his dorm, Bokuto sat on his bed with his phone in his hands. He felt like he looked like his little sister. She used to spend all day in her room snapchatting boys and trying to find the perfect lighting to take pictures of herself. He never really understood it, but as he was sitting here waiting for a text back from __, he felt that same energy.

He had never really liked a girl this much ever before in his life. He wasn’t even sure what it was. What went from a small admiration over how beautiful and sweet she looked behind the counter at the cafe turned into a full blown admiration after his minute long conversation with her. Everything about her was just so cool, so collected, she made him feel the same way volleyball made him feel, how he felt when he saw a cute dog when he was out on a jog. She was the first day of summer and waking up on Christmas morning. He could feel his excitement for her vibrate all the way to his fingertips.

You remembered my name!

Of course I do! You and your friend literally made my entire day on Saturday, haha.

I went back to my dorm and told my roommates the whole story lmao

Do you go to Todai?

Yeah! I’m in my first year. What about you?

Me too!

Sucks I’ve never seen you around.

Todai is so big I feel like if you see somebody once you never see them again.

I’ll keep a look out for you tho ;)

Where do you dorm?

I’m in Komaba on the 20th floor :(

I love the view but some days the elevators are full so I have to take the stairs and it’s terrible

I’m at Komaba too!

But on the fourth floor haha

I guess it’s a nice workout though

I haven’t been doing much exercise since volleyball ended in high school

Do you still play?

Yeah, Kuroo and I are on the schools team

Kuroo is the guy who spit everywhere

Kuroo’s a legend

I thank him for his service

And that's seriously super cool. I wasn’t good enough to play for college, haha.

I miss it though

Well, if you were busy playing volleyball, you wouldn’t have anytime to be the cutest barista ever

As soon as Bokuto sent the message, he regretted it. Was that really all he had to say to her?

Omg, awh, don’t flatter me

We should meet up! What are you up to right now?

Bokuto felt his face flush a thousand degrees. He had no idea how to contain his excitement around her, let alone his obvious crush. A small giggle escaped him as he typed back.

I’m honestly doing nothing but texting you in my dorm right now.

Me too, haha

We should go get food or something together!

My next class isn’t till 3

Before Bokuto could even ask her what her room number was, he found himself running up sixteen flights of stairs to meet her. Where this sudden adrenaline came from, he had no idea, and if any of the older guys on the team saw him, they would tease him more about not using this energy in practice. Once he reached the twentieth floor, he was breathless. The whole thing gave him flashbacks to running to meet Kuroo a couple days before. All he wanted right now was to see her.

He looked down at his phone, then typed a quick,

What's your dorm number?

I’m in room 2016 :)

Two seconds later, Bokuto found himself standing in front of the door, and knocking lightly. He heard something crash from the inside, and a small string of mumbled curses. When the door opened up in front of him, his heart skipped three beats when his eyes met hers.

She was significantly shorter than him, by a foot, if he was guessing right. Her hair was down and cascaded over her shoulders, something he hadn’t seen before. Somehow, she was even prettier with her hair down than she was worth it pulled back for work. Pretty __ eyes blinked once, twice, and a small, confused smile parted into a laugh.

“How the hell did you get up here this quick?” She chuckled, motioning for him to step inside the dorm. “Are you secretly superman and you’re not telling me?”

“If I told you I ran up here before I asked for your room number, would that be weird?” He sighed. He was still a little bit breathless, but the last thing he wanted was to lose his composure. She took a seat on her desk chair, and spun herself around in a circle before stopping and shaking her head.

“Nah, I’ll take it. I don’t like superman anyway. Now, if you had said Thor, that’s a different story.” She giggled. “You didn’t have to sprint up here you know. I could’ve met you in the dining hall.”

Bokuto honestly hadn’t even realized that was an option, even though it was much more realistic. He hadn’t even realized he was standing in the prettiest girl in the world’s bedroom until his eyes met hers again.

Oh god, and she was so pretty. He could hear Kuroo and Satori mocking him in the back of his head as he stared at her pushing herself into another circle in her desk chair.

“I know I didn’t have to.” He said, his voice almost cracking. “But I figured you’d like it.” Smooth recovery.

“Honestly?” She shrugged, “I can’t say somebody has ever ran up sixteen flights of stairs for me, so yeah. I take it as an honor”

__ then stood up, then led Bokuto out of her dorm.

“We can take the elevator down this time.”

“Thank god.” Bokuto sighed. “No offense, but 32 flights of stairs isn’t worth it for anyone.”

“Hey, I get it. Three flights of stairs isn’t worth it for me, so you’re already breaking a record.”

At the dining hall, they just talked about little things. Where they went to high school, what they were majoring in, their favorite animal, which both happened to be dogs, and what type of dogs they liked. They shared funny stories from high school, like the time Kuroo accidentally swallowed a beetle at training camp, and she told a shocking story about the “accident” at her own school. He was so interested in talking to her that he forgot that he was supposed to be eating, and he never forgets about that.

Their relationship was obviously flirtatious, but Bokuto couldn’t tell if she was flirting with him in the way Kuroo flirted with people, or in a way where she actually liked him. In bed that night, the last thing he thought about was her sitting across from him in the dining hall, and he had a feeling his mind would replay her face for a while.

#Bokuto Koutarou #bokuto koutarou x reader #haikyuu!! imagines #haikyuu!! scenarios #haikyuu!!#reader insert #haikyuu!! headcanons

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allegra-writes · 5 years

Text

Peter Parker cute Alphabet:

Hi! Could I please please please get a cute and a NSFW alphabet with Peter? Thanks! 💕

Ok, I actually had to do a little research for this one, I haven’t seen one in so long that I couldn’t remember exactly how they worked. (Update, I want to thank @padfootagain because this genius prompts come from her amazing mind, like, seriously THANK YOU 💓)And I never wrote smut before so you’ll probably gonna have to give me some time to do the NSFW one. Anyway, here’s our Cute Alphabet with the cutest Avenger:

Affection: What are those little things they do to show you that they love you?

He never let’s you forget that he loves you. He’s so excited that you are his girlfriend that he’s the most caring boyfriend in the planet, always holding your hand, always kissing your cheeks or your hands, always texting you random facts and memes he thinks you’ll find interesting or funny. He’s always making sure you’re safe too, and has the most care with his secret identity because now he has too much to loose if an enemy finds out who he really is. He simply can’t afford someone tracing you back to him and endangering you. Especially after what Mysterio did. Luckily everyone wrote it off as fake news but he takes extra measures now anyway.

Birthday: What do they do to celebrate your birthday? What is the thing you need to do to make them happy on their birthday? Are they good at giving gifts?

He’s the very first to wish you a happy birthday, knocking on your bedroom window shortly after midnight, rainbow cupcake with a single candle on his hands. He also gives you a very personal, special gift, like that hard to get book he knows you been looking everywhere for, or a very rare pigment for your art, or an original vintage Polaroid camera. He shows he truly knows you and listens to you with his gifts, he’s not one for generic gifts like perfume or jewelry (thought he did gave you a letter P pendant one Christmas that he got on Etsy, and you wear it all the time).

To make him happy on his birthday you don’t really have to do a lot, but you do anyway. You call Pepper Stark to let her know it’s Peter’s birthday and the both of you organize the best surprise party ever, with all of the remaining Avengers and of course his new “siblings” Harley and Morgan. Even Nebula shows up, because she wants to get to know the kid Tony Stark told her so much about when they were stranded on that ship (she actually thinks Peter is Tony’s biological son and Pepper doesn’t seem inclined on correcting that assumption any time soon)

Cuddles: Do they like to cuddle? Big spoon? Little spoon?

He loves to cuddle, he absolutely loves it. Whether it be while watching a movie on his couch, or lying together in your bed, he loves to wrap his arms around you. He likes to toy with the idea to keep you there forever, safe in his arms, away from the world and all its dangers.

Dating: What are they like on their first date? And those after that?

The first date was a terrible. It was a complete disaster. He had tried so hard to impress you: He had borrowed money and made reservation at some trendy french restaurant, picked you up in one of the cars Tony Stark had left him and showed up in a tux. Not that he looked bad in that tux, but you were definitely underdressed in your sundress and leather jacket. None of you even knew what any item in the menu was, and things were painfully akward.

In the end you both had ditch the restaurant and gone to a vintage Arcade to play 80’s videogames and eat burgers.

From that day on, he relaxed and you guys only go on dates that you really enjoy: Picnics at the park, stargazing trips, visits to the planetarium, and you even have plans for the San Diego Comic-Con next year.

Evolution: How fast does your relationship evolves? Weeks, months, years?

You are both young and, let’s face it, a little reckless, so things get very intense very fast. But there’s no going back now, he wants you in his life forever, you both are all in.

Flirting: Do they flirt a lot?

He’s not the smoothest of flirts but he doesn’t need to, he already owns your heart. And to be honest, you love the way you can still get him all flustered when you send a flirtatious smile and a wink his way.

Generosity: When they’re with you, is it about you or about them?

You are his princess, his Queen, his love, his everything. He is absolutely amazed by the fact that you love him back, he can’t believe his luck, can’t believe you’re his. So of course it’s all about you: He loves opening doors for you, carrying things for you, wrapping you up in his jacket when you’re cold… And when you both are alone, well, everything is still about you. More than ever.

Honey: Do they use pet names? What’s their favourite for you and for themselves?

He mostly calls you babe, sometimes princess, but he secretly loves when someone at the Avengers Tower calls you “Spider-girl” the most.

Isolation: How do they react when they are away from you?

He loathes it. Absolutely hates it. He misses you like crazy when he’s away in missions or when you are and he’s not with you. He hates not knowing if you’re safe, he hates not being able to hear your voice.

But the angst of the separation makes the reunion all the sweetest. To finally have you in his arms feels like coming home, like being where he really belongs.

Jealousy: Are they jealous? How do they react if you are jealous?

He tries not to be, but sometimes he can’t help it. It was worse when you weren’t together, because he knew you had a bit of a crush on Dr. Strange, and it used to kill him. He still doesn’t really likes when he is around. That’s actually how he told you that he liked you: He had gotten so mad with jealousy that you guys had fought. Badly. Things had gotten out of control and he ended up confessing his feelings for you in the middle of a yelling match.

You hate it but he actually loves when you get jealous, you looked hot as hell when you get mad and he loves that fire within you. Loves that he is the reason it ignites and burns.

Kisses: Lots of them? Peppering ones? Languid ones?… What about your first kiss?

He’s always peppering you with kisses, but he always asks for permission before deepening them. Sometimes vocally, asking you if he can kiss you, and sometimes in more subtle ways, nibbling or licking on your bottom lip. You love that about him, the way he never takes you for granted, not even in the smallest of ways.

Light up: What do they do to make you feel better after a rough day? How can you lighten their mood?

There’s nothing Peter Parker wouldn’t do for you. And if that means doing back flips, or some silly dance or even singing something to put a smile on your face after a long day, so be it.

You don’t really have to do a lot to make him smile, just giving him a hug, a kiss or simply being you usually makes things a lot better

Nurse: How do they take care of you when you’re sick? How do they behave when they are sick?

If you have a cold, he shows up at your door with soup, if you have a sore throat, he gets you ice cream. And if you are on your period, he gets you obscene amounts of chocolate, heating pads, Aleve or anything you need. He was raised by May, after all, so he doesn’t get spooked or grossed out by periods.

He doesn’t really get sick himself, thanks to his special metabolism. But he does get hurt sometimes. Or his senses get overload. At those times he holds you tight and buries his face in your chest cause your smell soothes him, the feeling of you in his arms grounds him to something solid and real, and the sound of your heart beating helps him focus and drown out the pandemonium of noise of such a big city like New York.

Objects: Are there any object, song, place that have a particular meaning for them or for the two of you as a couple?

Sometimes the weight of the world, of being the next Tony Stark, of being an Avenger gets to be a little too much. He gets so insecure, so full of doubt and self deprecation…

On those such times you sing to him, often to sleep. And it’s always the same tune: “Something just like this” by Coldplay. Not because you don’t think him worthy of being a hero or anything like that, but to remind him that you didn’t fall in love with Spider-Man or the next Tony Stark, but with Peter Parker, and that’s all you need him to be. In time, that becomes your song.

Partners: Are they looking for flings, one-night stands, partners to be with until their last breath? What makes them fall for you?

He wasn’t expecting to fall for you. He wasn’t expecting to fall for anyone, really. Things with MJ had just fallen apart because of what Quentin Beck tried to do to him, and he couldn’t endanger her. And to be honest, he was still mourning Tony. In conclusion, he was in a very dark place and wasn’t really thinking about girls. Like, at all. But one day, you showed up. A pretty girl in a pretty dress, but with combat boots on your feet. Fitting for a walking contradiction like you, so kind but with a smart mouth on you, to use effortlessly on the people that annoyed you. You countered all of his quick remarks readily with one of your own. So out of his league, but somehow you had like him back.

No, he definitely wasn’t looking for somebody. But now he’s got you, and he’s never letting you go. He’s going to marry you one day, he knows that in his bones.

Quarrels: How is it to have a fight with them? What do they do to make you forgive them? What do you need to do to make them forgive you?

It’s not often that you fight, which makes it all the worse when it happens. Usually it has something to do with his whole self-sacrificing-brooding-hero-“you’d-be-safer-without-me” thing. The first time you didn’t understand what was going on so you had let him leave you, without putting up a fight, cause you had thought he simply didn’t love you anymore. That one didn’t last because when you tracked his suit (your very own messed up version of social media stalking), you realized he had been following you around to make sure you were safe. You realized then two things: First, he still loved you and second, you both needed to learn a thing or two about healthy boundaries.

Ever since then, every time he tried to pull something like that again, you weren’t afraid to call him out on his BS, even if you could never really stay mad at him. Not when he looks at you with those big brown puppy dog eyes. And if those eyes happen to be red rimmed, you are done for.

But who could blame you? You are only human after all. And even while he does have super powers, you know your tears are his kryptonite.

Rings: How do they propose? The wedding? The honeymoon?

The first time the thought hits him, it leaves him breathless. You guys were just lying on his couch, watching some silly Syfy channel movie about sharks on space, when he looked up at you from his position with his head resting on your lap. You looked so beautiful in the blue light from the TV, so domestic dressed up in one of his old hoodies, and the two little words came to his mind, unbridled: “Marry me”.

The next few weeks, it just won’t leave him alone. At random moments, having lunch or studying together, walking down the street or making love, it would just play on repeat inside his head, like a prayer: “Marry me. Marry me. Marry me”, and it would take all of his will power to not blurt the words out loud.

He knows May would just freak out so he goes to Pepper, who instead of lecturing him about being too young to get married like he expected, smiles, takes off her own engagement ring and places it on his hand, telling him, “Tony had this ring for years before giving it to me. Don’t make the same mistake”. She helps him plan the perfect proposal, that of course goes to hell when the green goblin attacks the city and almost gets the better of him. Luckily you were able to sneak up on the bastard from behind and managed to knock him unconscious with a Shield issued taser.

You were so brave, so perfect, this time he can’t contain himself.

“Marry me”

You blinked, “I might have to asked my boyfriend what he has to say about that”

“Don’t. Let’s run away together tonight.” He pulled the bottom half of his mask up and then pulled you into a kiss that had the little crowd of onlookers watching the fight cheering and whistling.

And that’s the story of how you and Peter eloped to Las Vegas.

Secrets: Do they keep secrets from you and how do they react when they learn that you’ve been hiding something from them?

Well, the begining of your relationship wasn’t exactly… Forthright.

Of course he hadn’t told you he was Spider-Man, even if he was shit at keeping it secret, always disappearing, always hanging out with Pepper Stark and Happy Hogan, always getting so jumpy anytime you mentioned Spider-Man. Between that and the new bruises you found almost every night littering his body - That were gone the next morning- it wasn’t really that hard to make the connection.

You hadn’t even need to confront him about it, you just had kissed him and bid him goodbye with a “Go get them, Spider-Man” the next time he had tried to use some half baked excuse to stood you up in the middle of a movie date at your place.

“Wha- that’s not… I’m not- I’m not Spider-Man!” He had tried to scoff dismissively, what of course was completely ruined by him tripping out of your second floor window and landing on the sidewalk without a scratch.

So yeah, he wouldn’t really hold it against you if you were to keep something from him, besides, he trusts you anyway.

Tease: Do they like to tease you? How much humour is there in your relationship?

There is a lot of fun and laughs in your relationship, but he’s not much of a tease, if anything, you are the teaser of the two. However, you need to be careful because he is after all the sassiest avenger and his quick wit can outmatch your own if the need arises.

Voicing: How hard is it for them to talk about their feelings? How do they tell you that they love you for the first time?

He’s not exactly a closed off person, but he’s not the best communicator either. The things that are really important, that really affect him or make him vulnerable, he often bottles up until they get to be too much and and then get blurted out.

That’s how he told you that he loved you for the first time: He had gotten jealous, and though he didn’t mean to, he ended up making a scene. And if there is one thing that you hate with a passion, that’s jealous and controlling people. So, of course you had fought back. The discussion quickly got out of control and he ended up yelling “Because I’m in love with you, that’s why!” at you in the middle of the fight.

U-turns: What can transform your relationship in a good or bad way (what makes them confess their feelings or scares them off)?

That’s it basically: Strong emotions. Strong jealousy had cause him to confess his feelings and strong fear for your safety was the thing that almost drove him away from you. He was always very emotional when making decisions, and that’s probably the reason why they often blow up on his face.

Luckily you are a little more logical, a little more cool headed to balance his more impassionate personality. Waking up: What is it like to wake up by their side? He usually wakes up first, so normally you are arisen by strong arms tightening around you, soft, reverent caresses on your naked back or arms, or sweet nothings whispered at your hair when he thinks you’re still deeply asleep. Once your eyes flutter open, he would always try to convince you to stay in bed just a little longer. He likes to pretend that there’s no world outside your bed, only you and him. If he could, he would keep you forever there, safe in his arms Yielding: What do you have to do to convince them to do what you want? You are his weakness and you know it. It took you a while, but by now you are perfectly aware that he would do whatever you ask of him. You have him wrapped around your little finger. Zoo: Could they have a pet with you? What kind of pet? Peter Parker might be the only person in the world who is actually a bigger softy than you. Once, your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man busted a pit-bull fighting ring, and after beating every human involved pretty nastily (could anyone really blame him?) He called the dog rescue, to help the poor, terrified, abused animals. The worst part were the puppies these monsters seemed to be already training for battle. He tried to remain strong, he really did, but there was this one puppy, smaller than the others, not aggressive in the slightest, cowering behind the crates. He was tiny, but already covered in scars, because, apparently he was the dog they used so the others would… practice. Very slowly, he was able to approach and grab him, but whenever someone from the rescue tried to take him, it would start crying again, looking at Peter with the saddest eyes. Eyes that were the same color as yours. It simply broke his heart. He couldn’t possibly part with it. So he didn’t. The next morning, you woke up to a still exhausted boyfriend for the first time ever not cuddling up to you, but to the smallest, cutest dog you had ever seen. That morning, you fell in love with Peter all over again, and with your new puppy for the very first time. You named him “Spidey”, in honor of the outstanding man who had saved his life.

#peter parker imagine #peter parker imagines #peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker fanfic #peter parker reader fanfiction #cute peter parker #tom Holland x reader #tom holland cute

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cyb-by-lang · 4 years

Text

Cosmic Escape Velocity

Did a little bit of writing in the whole YYH situation thing! It’s silly. It also takes place during Hell Year in its own branch timeline.

Kei.

Yeah?

I suspect your personal fate and fortune may be… Isobu paused, clearly trying to come up with a single word that would sum up the disaster of Kei’s life. All of his tails swayed uncertainly in her mind.

Unlikely? Hilariously broken? Kei’s suggestions, as always, went over like a fleet of lead balloons. She didn’t react at all when Isobu mentally swatted at her with those tails in irritation, keeping her hands behind her back in perfect parade rest.

We are standing in the office of a thousand-year-old spiritual being that has a pacifier in his mouth, said Isobu, angling his palms as far up as they’d go without breaking his not-at-all-physical shell. He just didn’t have the limb rotation range. I am not sure there is a way to sum up this latest catastrophe without stretching the language.

Kei shifted her weight from her right foot to her left. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with just screaming.

I do not scream, Isobu huffed.

Too much dignity?

Not enough lung.

It was Kei’s turn to roll her eyes as subtly as she could.

“Are you even listening?” asked the baby, standing up in his chair to loom as far as he could over the top of his desk. The two mountains of paperwork to each side of him did not care, and in fact made him look even smaller. Despite the added weight of his spiritual energy—not chakra, as had been specified a few minutes ago—Kei didn’t take him much more seriously.

Look, she had the equivalent of a nuclear reactor implanted in her chest through spiritual surgery. There was only so much comparison to make.

Still, what Kei actually said was, “Of course, Koenma-sama. Sorry for the interruption.”

The baby sat back in his chair, frowning around his pacifier. “Then as I was saying, I can’t send you back to your starting point.” As Kei’s hopes for a quick resolution took a dive, he went on, “Going by your spiritual signature, you arrived from a world that has a different wave pattern from our own. Forcing your way through during convergence must have cost tremendous amounts of energy—”

Well, it wasn’t like I passed out in a bush on purpose, Kei thought despairingly, silently cursing her circumstances for the umpteenth time. Koenma’s attendants had picked her up, dusted her off, and plopped her in front of their boss with barely any time to react.

“—but once the intersection period passes, that cost skyrockets. By a factor of a hundred.” Koenma laced his pudgy baby fingers together as far in front of his face as they’d reach, a contemplative look crossing his expression as he observed her. “How well do you understand the concept of a leyline?”

Kei considered. Then she unfolded her arms and brought her hand to her chin, to facilitate her thinking. It was probably a placebo effect, but it made her feel better. “I don’t know if you’re going for the ‘weak point in reality’ or the ‘source of magic’ version, but I think I get the basic idea.”

She’d only read enough fantasy novels to fill her entire brain with tropes.

Koenma stared at her with his eyes narrowed almost to slits, as though trying to decide if she was being facetious or not. “Well, you must have found a leyline from your home world at the exact moment the waveforms met. And whether you knew it would happen or not, using any kind of spiritual energy near something that volatile has…consequences.”

Of the wormhole kind, Kei thought.

Your luck is atrocious.

“But this is no time to give up hope,” Koenma said firmly, wagging one finger. “Your world’s wavelength is appreciably short by human standards! The best time for sending you home could be anywhere in the next year to the next four. It’s certainly better than the half-century for some worlds. Some others haven’t come back in my entire lifetime!”

Kei shot a mental glare at Isobu. You were saying?

I stand corrected. It is worse.

Kei took a careful, meditative breath to steel her nerves. No time for freaking out. She could have her moment of wordless panic when she could find a corner to cry in without being observed. Even the emotional deadening of the last few months couldn’t stand up to this. “I see.”

Koenma’s face scrunched into a frown. If it was ever going to be less strange hearing fully-formed sentence coming out of that face, Kei didn’t imagine it’d be any time soon. Then: “In the meantime, would you like to have a job?”

Kei’s thoughts screeched to a halt. “I’m sorry?”

“It’s not the same as a solution; just a stopgap,” Koenma explained patiently. “But if I understand humans, it’s better to have something to keep your hands busy than to sit around in despair until a miracle falls into your lap.”

“What kind of job?” Kei asked, careful to keep the suspicion from seeping into her voice. She’d had more than enough contracts go bad in the midst of her long deployment to learn a little caution. Sensei filtered what he could, but now Kei was out of his reach.

And she hadn’t said no, so Koenma leaned forward in his seat with full lecture mode engaged. “I have a new spirit detective—a boy a few years younger than you—undergoing training to improve his combat skills. But while he’s busy getting whipped into shape, I don’t have anyone to handle his workload.” Koenma’s half-hidden eyes gleamed. “Are you interested?”

“What does the job entail?” Kei asked, as most of her sense of humor dropped right out of her body. Even if she didn’t know where she was, some things never changed. It wouldn’t be her first time being hired halfway through a contract, though it was always at Sensei’s discretion. There had to be a reason why a person whose agents had found her in a bush under a purple sky, in the land of the dead, thought she would be useful for his purposes.

Koenma replied, “In your case, it mostly means completing any minor missions he can’t. Stamping out trouble caused by apparitions of all kinds, but especially demons. Your duties will change after he returns.”

Something in the back of Kei’s head started itching, like a thought she’d forgotten sometime over the last seventeen years. The blanket of emotional exhaustion was too thick to avoid smothering it.

I will look for it.

Thanks.

Kei’s gaze roved slowly around the room, from the stacks of paperwork to the employer offering her busy work. “Let me read and edit the contract before I sign anything. I’d also like any reference material you have on apparitions, and maybe an assistant if you have one to spare.”

Something in Koenma’s expression softened, at least as far as Kei could tell. Babies did not have terribly suitable faces for adult emotions. “I’ll send for Ayame-san. She’ll also be your contact if you do decide to take me up on this offer.”

“Thank you, Koenma-sama,” Kei said, because it didn’t hurt to be polite to a god who administered the afterlife. Sure, Kei was a little corporeal to be a resident, but that could always change.

Kei barely paid attention as the oni attendants bustled around the pastel office and eventually escorted her out into a waiting room. While blue- or red-skinned humanoids registered as unusual, the sheer number of them running around like headless chickens cut down on the unfamiliarity quickly. They were just barely clambering up the slope on the uncanny valley in their tiger-skin loincloths, and most of them ignored her presence entirely.

I wonder if that is a self-preservation instinct.

If any of them can tell you’re here, it is. Kei, sitting in an armchair no more comfortable than those plastic abominations in a waiting room at a hospital, mostly let the world pass her by. Do you think anyone’s realized we’re gone?

I doubt the nearest jōnin has, Isobu muttered resentfully. Then, more thoughtfully, he said, The crane might have.

Kei’s hand shot to her mouth before she’d even articulated her thoughts. Using her kunai would be more sanitary, but hell, she was in the land of the dead. She bit down on her knuckle with one canine, drawing blood for the contract. Then her hands flew through the hand signs with barely enough time to name them: Boar, Dog, Bird, Monkey, Ram.

For a split second after she slammed her hand into the nearby coffee table, Kei’s nerves jangled with fear. What if this doesn’t work? What if I do this wrong and Tsuruya gets hurt—

Chakra-derived ink spread across the wood in a familiar pattern. Sure, the drain behind the technique was an order of magnitude higher than anything she’d expected. And sure, that usually meant bad things, and she was probably breaking several interworld rules in one fell swoop.

But Kei didn’t care.

Because, amid the sudden burst of white chakra smoke and the terrified screaming of oni office workers, she heard a familiar voice say, “Keisuke-sama? Did you call for me?”

Tsuruya beat her wings once, sending paperwork flying through the air along with the rapidly dissipating smoke, much to the dismay of the oni audience as the flailed after their disrupted files. Once she could see, she jerked her dark head to see Kei better with one eye, then the other. Then she folded her huge wings against her sides and bowed low.

Kei launched herself out of the chair and hugged Tsuruya’s three-meter bulk with enough force that her crane companion let out a startled honking noise.

“I missed you too,” Tsuruya said once she regained her balance, dropping her beak to rest against Kei’s back. Her wing looped around Kei, shielding them both with metal-edged feathers. “Though if you do not mind my asking, where are we?”

Kei said, “Probably the afterlife?” but was so muffled by her summoned friend’s feathers that she didn’t get a response.

“My apologies, but I do not think I caught what you said,” Tsuruya said. When this, too, failed to incite an audible response, Tsuruya changed tactics.

“Ow!”

By hitting Kei in the head with her beak, just like old times.

It was at this point in Tsuruya’s fussing that they were interrupted by a polite cough. Kei kept one arm slung around Tsuruya’s neck as the two of them turned to face the interloper.

A dark-haired woman stood amid the chaos of the oni attendants’ panic, expression placid. She wore a black kimono and carried a centimeter-thick stack of paper bound neatly with gold thread, along with an oar strapped to her back.

She bowed.

“Can I help you…?” Kei prompted, after managing a half-assed bow despite her stance.

“Ayame, Gekkō-san. I have your contract.” When she straightened, Ayame added, “If you’ll come this way, there is a side room where we can discuss terms in private.”

“Are you helping represent my interest or those of the spirit world?” Kei kept the obligatory lawyer joke tucked well inside her skull.

“I only want to help both parties come to a compromise.”

Well, that was helpful. “Thank you, Ayame-san. Please lead the way.”

-----

An hour later, Koenma received the modified contract and began to read it, while Tsuruya, Kei, and Ayame all stood around. Of the three, only Ayame seemed perfectly in place.

Ten minutes after that, the oni outside his office were startled to hear a cry of “How many thousand yen per month?!”

Kei stared down his fury with patience born of entirely too long spent alone and nail-biting desperation. “I’m still human. I’ll need to pay rent, buy food, and obtain supplies while living in whichever city I need to cover. And I know what my expertise is worth.”

Koenma gaped at her for a moment longer, only avoiding the goldfish impression by dint of his pacifier, then glared down at the contact. As he perused it with increasing fervor, he muttered under his breath.

Kei caught the words “unbelievable” and “never in my life” and “not made of money.”

Over Koenma’s shoulder, Ayame smiled faintly.

“FINE!” Koenma burst out at last, throwing down his fountain pen in defeat after almost fifteen minutes of desperate rereading. “It’s legally sound, and you have a point about living world expenses. But when the call comes, you need to be ready to fight! Is that clear?”

Kei bowed in full shinobi style, dropping to one knee with her head angled toward the floor. Koenma didn’t need to know she was hiding a smile for, however tangentially, managing to frustrate a god. “Of course, Koenma-sama.”

Oh, he may regret that.

“Then get out of my office! Ayame, show her how to get everything organized so she can start as soon as possible!”

Ayame swept Kei and Tsuruya out of the room amid the god-child’s impending tantrum. While Kei sat sidesaddle on Ayame’s oar as they took flight, Tsuruya pumped her huge wings and trailed in their slipstream with deceptive ease.

“I look forward to working with you, Ayame-san,” Kei said, though even she wasn’t sure how sincere she was. “Please take care of me.”

Still, Ayame replied, “Like one of our own, Keisuke-san.”

It wasn’t until they’d landed in some human city that Kei realized, however belatedly, that she’d never told anyone her name. And that to be in the spirit world meant she’d been separated from her real body. Which was, of course, also lying in a bush.

All she could say to that, once she was again on her own two feet, was, “Well, that figures.”

Dead twice she could remember, and all she got out of it was a job.

#catch your breath fanfic #crossover #yuyu hakusho #keisuke gekko #isobu #tsuruya #koenma #cosmic escape velocity

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