#like I think they transitioned in the few months since I drew them

[fagbearentertainment]

[alquido]

long-ass king crimson post by person who knows nothing about music

recently started listening to king crimson's discography and i will use this blog to dump my thoughts about it

[i am by no means a music expert or even enthusiast. i just ended up enjoying my experience and typed this up without much organized thought. so, please excuse (or better yet, correct) me if i say anything potentially sacrilegious]

started at the 80s era first, since i a) loved matte kudasai and b) was admittedly intimidated by the 10+ minute songs in the earlier eras

discipline is probably my favorite overall kc album (for now). it has some of the weirdest songs i've ever listened to, and that creativity was its biggest appeal to me.

when i listened to matte kudasai a few months back, i was surprised by how laid back and slow it was, since i only knew kc from a few court tracks. i ended up loving it though; something about belew's voice, the lyrics, and the atmosphere really drew me in.

the way elephant talk is sung and its humorous tone is not something i expected from kc, but it's still an absolute bop. frame by frame was a pleasant listen, but the genius (of the desyncing riffs) only clicked in my head with a relisten (thanks yt comments section!).

i love indiscipline and thela hun ginjeet for how the lyrics are more narrated than sung, somehow it makes them hit harder for me. for thela hun ginjeet, all the instrumentation is just super frantic, i love that most of the lyrics is just a candid recording, it really does emit the vibes of an insane urban jungle.

sheltering sky is chill, ambient stuff isn't really my cup of tea but this one really highlights the drums used throughout this album. i've heard it's from indonesian gamelan, which i have heard a bit of before and it sounds extremely cool (apologies for the non-descript compliment here). discipline sounds so mesmerizing, mechanical and complicated like all the gears in a clock turning.

i listened to three of a perfect pair next, which i thought was a really interesting album because of the harsh differences between the two sides.

i cannot stop dancing to the left side. my head cannot stop replaying toapp, that chorus is addicting to think about and the guitars and bass do good work. model man and man with an open heart are short and pleasant jams in a similar vein to toapp, don't have much to say on them. sleepless, however, is bass heaven (especially the tony levin mix, i can't listen to the normal album version now). highly recommend listening with a good headset with nice bass settings, i felt like something was horribly missing when i used the treble-heavy airpods.

i didn't think much of nuages and industry, they felt like transitionary pieces to me (maybe they'll grow on me, i'm just not used to long ambient songs in rock). however, i do enjoy the vibe that industry gives as an introduction to the right side, like entering the atmosphere of a new, metal-filled wasteland of a planet. those vibes transition very well into dig me. there is something unsettling and dissonant about the instrumental and the lyrics, like looking in the mind of a deteriorating machine. and the chorus comes in like brief moments of lucidity until it starts sputtering out again. it's like a poem with an instrumental backing. great, awesome, everyone knows how i feel about narrated pieces.

no warning is another transitionary piece into larks 3. i had actually listened to larks 1-3 prior to listening to all of toapp, and honestly i liked them all for pretty different reasons. larks 1 blew me away with the nonexistent transition into hard guitar. jaw dropped when i heard that first time; it made for a very good first impression of the whole larks album. larks 2 is literally just the coolest math rock song ever, which is a genre i've listened a bit to before and immediately liked. larks 3 just sounds evil (in a good way) to me, from that hellish guitar intro and how frantic it and the drums sound. all cool songs, i like :)

i listened to most of red too, but i was distracted when i did so i don't remember most of what i felt about the tracks. i do know that i was immediately very impressed with red and fallen angel, but i didn't finish providence and didn't listen to starless until later. i had high expectations for starless, knowing how well-praised it was literally any time it's mentioned.

and you know what, starless is kinda insane. the intro is quiet and beautiful. the middle lulled me into this repetitive sense of security until bruford starts going crazy with the drums. then everyone else starts raising the energy and the mellotron comes in, which is when i realized that my patience has been rewarded, and that people were right when they said this was peak. my favorite part is the last minute, when they reprise the intro into the most glorious ending. i audibly said "what the actual fuck" when i finished listening, it was that good. now i get the whiplash between going from this to 80s crimson; while i like both, the direction is extremely different.

i still have a lot of tracks to go through as of now. i'll probably finish going through the larks album next since i already started, then actually listen to itcotck as a whole. this is absolutely cool stuff, i should get into more prog rock than whatever araki's handed on a platter to jojo fans. also my only current exposure to the kc fanbase being r/kingcrimsoncirclejerk is certainly a choice on my part, but to be fair some funny shit does come from there

tl;dr the more i look at it, the more i like it. i do think it's good. the fact is, no matter how closely i study it, no matter how i take it apart, no matter how i break it down, it remains consistent. i wish you were here to see it. I LIKE IT

[the-duckless-pond]

Oh god I am having such bad intrusive thoughts about moving my PC. It is a proper gaming one that cost like $3k and I have to go down one flight of stairs to my car and then up two flights of stairs to the new place. I bought a special padded moving case for it and anti static bags so that I can take out the components for transit but I keep having awful images of slipping down the stairs while carrying the bag and it breaking. It’s awful and incessant. And I’m out of my as needed anxiety med until the 18th of next month.

I texted my mom to ask if she would be the one to carry it and she said yes but now it’s like what if SHE trips and falls and not only the computer is broken but she hurts herself?? And I can’t discover anything to soothe the worry. It is so consuming that I am afraid to touch it so I had to take a break from playing ME3 until it passes (and I was about to start the final mission!)

Gah. This has been happening with so many things ever since I got triggered two weeks ago. I had to take my cat to the vet and I had thoughts about her escaping, and then the carrier breaking as I carried her and her getting lost, and then getting into a car crash where she dies. And then I found out the new place has a gas stove, and now I’m worried about gas leaks and explosions. So I had to buy gas meters and child locks. Not sure if those will help me yet. It’s all pretty miserable.

I’ve never officially been on medicine for my OCD, but maybe it’s time to ask for it? It’s been pretty well managed these past two or three years and I don’t talk about it a lot, but my support is minimal right now and I can’t go to therapy until after I get internet in the new place, and I’m kind of spiraling. I guess I’ll just try and tough it out and survive the move. The big worries are moving my PC and moving the cats, so once those are done it should get better. I’ll probably have some trouble leaving the apartment for a few days out of fear that the cats will escape and I don’t have a solution for that just yet. I drew a sign for my front door but I haven’t gotten it printed yet. Maybe I should order that now. I bet that would make me feel better. I can print off a little copy in the meantime and tape it up.

I am also really worried about my first grocery order there?? Like what if they leave it in the lobby and it gets stolen!!! Ugh. So many things to think about.

AND on top of it all I’m trying to quit smoking, and I have never wanted a cigarette more in my life than I have these past two weeks. I actually caved and bought a pack the other night, smoked three and then tossed it and put a patch on. I had a rough day that day. It was probably my last cigarette and it wasn’t even my lucky. Oh well. I was focused on throwing them out.

I guess all that to say that moving when you have a fuck ton of legally disabling mental illnesses is really tough? I don’t know where I’m going with this and my phone is about to die. I think the move will be good for me. I just have to get through the next few days.

[newpathwrites]

Series Masterlist Main Masterlist

III. Kindred Spirits (prequel)

Dank farrik - how could a kid so young cut so deeply and so profoundly and not even know it? Din was at a loss for words. He knew well the feeling that Jai was describing - just as he knew well the reason he became a bounty hunter. It was like this kid saw straight through the beskar to his very soul.

There was an opportunity here… to keep a kid too much like himself from making the same mistake. Preferring solitude was fine, but isolation was not the answer to this problem. Din had done that in his early years, and that existence was too lonely even for him.

Summary: Sometimes you need to be alone - and sometimes you just need a kindred spirit to keep you company for a while.

Note: Set pre-series. Jai is about 7-8ish years-old here and an old soul :-)

Warnings: Mild angst, discussion of isolation/alienation.

Read on AO3

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The last few weeks had felt like the longest of Din’s life thanks to a particularly difficult bounty, and all he desired at this moment was a soft mattress and a long sleep.  At least he had a hefty number of credits and much needed supplies for the covert to show for it.

His steps grew heavy as he approached the hidden entrance, allowing his exhaustion to settle in as the safe resting place grew near.  But the glint of light reflecting off metal just inside drew him back to attention.  He withdrew his blaster from its holster and approached the entrance slowly, ready to face down an awaiting attacker.  But as he silently moved through the opening, blaster trained in front of him, he breathed out a sigh of relief… quickly followed by trademark annoyance… at the sight of one of the foundlings sitting against the wall, fading daylight glinting off their armor.

“ Dank farrik ,” he muttered under his breath, reholstering the blaster.  “Jai, you know it’s not safe to come out here alone.  What were you thinking, verd’ika?”

The child looked up, surprised, having been lost in their own mind before the older Mandalorian’s scolding.  “I’m sorry, Beroya.  I just needed to be alone for a minute.  I'll go back.”

Well, Din was certainly familiar with wanting to be alone.  It was the primary reason he’d found himself the tribe’s sole provider of his own accord.  He and Jai were kindred spirits in that way, and he saw much of himself in the young foundling who was much more quiet and serious than the other children.  Din had sensed for quite some time that Jai didn’t fit in easily with the others, the mirror image of his own experience growing up in the tribe, and that recognition had created a bit of a soft spot for the child.

Jai had become more withdrawn in recent months, ever since they’d calmly spoken to the entire covert during a communal meeting, requesting that everyone refer to them using gender neutral terms and demonstrating an unusual level of maturity and courage for their age.  The armorer had decreed it so, gender traditionally being of little consequence among Mandalorians, and Jai’s request had been fully accepted and honored by all of the tribe’s members.  But clearly something was off with the child despite what outwardly appeared like a smooth transition.

Din sighed.  He was so tired, but Jai could use a friendly distraction from an adult who understood them better than most, and how Din wished that there had been someone watching out for him during those years.

Jai started to stand, hand braced against the wall as they began to lift off, but Din interjected.  “Hold on a minute.  I’ve got something for you.”  He rifled through his hidden pockets and compartments, finally pulling out a small deck of cards, brightly colored with various geometric patterns, handing them to Jai.  “I thought you’d like these.  They’re like the patterns you painted on your armor.”

Jai opened the deck, looking over the various colorful designs.  “These are really nice.  Thank you, Beroya.  I’ll head back now before I get in trouble.”  They started again to get up, but Din raised a hand to stop them, settling on the floor and groaning as his sore muscles finally found some relief.

“Those aren’t free, kid.  You need to play for them.”  Din groaned again as he stretched out his aching back.  “And when we’re done, you can go find someone to lift me off the floor.”

Jai giggled at the deadpan humor, finally breaking through their somber mood, and Din cracked a smile under the helmet in spite of himself.

They sorted the cards and played the first few rounds without saying much.  Din was unsurprised  to see that Jai’s skills had continued to improve since the last time they’d played together.  The kid was exceptionally smart, no doubt about that - probably better suited to strategy than combat, honestly, but entirely too young still to pass judgment on that front.

“Any particular reason you wanted to be alone, Jai?  You don’t have to tell me… but maybe I can help.”  Din tried his best to sound casual, not wanting to put Jai on the spot, and continued dealing cards.

Jai never looked up and replied nonchalantly despite the somewhat dramatic nature of their words.  “The other foundlings are different from me.  I always feel like I’m weird - even when everyone is being nice.  They just don’t understand - nobody does.”  Jai paused, reshuffling the deck.  “I hope I can be a beroya someday, like you.  Then I can be away from everyone as much as I want.”

Dank farrik - how could a kid so young cut so deeply and so profoundly and not even know it?  Din was at a loss for words.  He knew well the feeling that Jai was describing - just as he knew well the reason he became a bounty hunter.  It was like this kid saw straight through the beskar to his very soul.  

There was an opportunity here… to keep a kid too much like himself from making the same mistake.  Preferring solitude was fine, but isolation was not the answer to this problem.  Din had done that in his early years, and that existence was too lonely even for him.

“Did you know I was a foundling, verd’ika?” Din questioned.

Jai shrugged.  “I figured.”  Of course they did - smarty pants.

“Well, I came to the covert when I was about the age you are now.  It was a little strange because my parents… I think they were teachers of some sort… they taught me many things.  I could read and speak several languages… knew about different planets and cultures… understood pretty advanced mathematics for my age… things like that.”

Jai interrupted, a lover of learning, but always tempered by the demands of Mandalorian training.  “Beroya, you must have been the smartest foundling here!”

Din chuckled.  “Well, maybe, and those things have helped me a lot with bounty hunting, actually.  But they’re certainly not helpful when you’re wearing a full suit of armor for the first time at eight years-old, fighting against a foundling twice your size.”  Jai nodded in agreement knowingly.  “Anyway, I felt very different from the other kids.  We had nothing in common, and I always felt like I got thrown into this world where I didn’t belong.”

“Beroya,” Jai interjected with mock accusation.  “You’re trying to teach me something, aren’t you?”  Maker, this kid was too smart for their own good…

“Yes, Jai.  I’m trying to teach you something.” Din replied firmly.  “Look, I know it’s hard feeling like you don’t fit in, but we all have an important place here - you’ll figure out yours eventually just like I did, but hiding away from everyone isn’t the answer.  And anyway, I think there’s probably one person who understands you, a little bit at least, don’t you think?”

Jai smiled behind their visor.  “Yeah... I guess there is…”

They had continued playing as they talked, Jai absolutely decimating Din despite the older Mandalorian’s best efforts.

“Good work, verd’ika.  The cards are yours.  Let’s get back before they send a search party for you.”

While Jai gathered the deck, Din managed to pull himself back up to a standing position.  Stars , he couldn’t wait to take off the armor and get some sleep.

“Thank you for the cards, Beroya.”

“You’re welcome, Jai.”

Jai hesitated a moment and then rushed forward to wrap their arms around Din’s middle in a brief hug before running off toward the foundlings’ quarters.

Hmmm… Din thought.  Maybe we should play cards more often…

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Thanks for reading!

Next chapter

[uj453]

winter is coming 

21/12/2018 

0 Comments 

winter is coming... 

On the last day of my Vienna in this stint, or rather this semester, I went with a dear friend to an apartment just opposite a park. The park had a small urban garden project happening too, and there were basil plants in it. It was not as cold as it had been but there was quite a wind blowing through, and that was really chilly. We were planning to pick out the Basil leaves, letting other people’s labour bear us fruit, or rather bear us some spice. 

We were exact on time for our appointment, and over the next few minutes the plot thickened, our plans were going to be quashed it seemed. It had been quite something - these past few months and the last year overall for me. Same for my friend, in very different ways. We aren’t the closest of friends, and I won’t say too much for the fear of jinxing it, but having met her a couple of weeks back, we did hit it off. And I don’t think either of us were clear about how we both were there and cooking up plans like that. What we knew for certain in this moment was that it was sinking. 

And sinking it had been. Transitions are difficult, and however much of a nomadic person I might or might not be, with age it does become more and more difficult. No wonder this blog is now named with the number to a place which was home. It’s been a bit since I left that place, and have been yearning for for home since. It’s not yet been. But it has been quite a ride. 

House hunting, I met a person, who was working on a drone project at UN. We discussed the fucked up politics of United Nations, and despite his own UN project which revolved around drones in a country in Africa (that I hadn’t even heard about, and don’t even remember now) being an interesting one, how in the larger scheme of things, even that was fucked up. 

There was a flat I applied for which had 150 applicants (the chances were more difficult than the PhD program I am enrolled for!!! :O ). In another appointment, I met a couple of smokers, who were doing multiple rounds of interview for their flatshare, and the second round of interview (which I was shortlisted for... yayyyy!!) was basically having a joint with them (and was then rejected... blah!! well, the joint was so good, so i guess that counts for something. 

At a few places, I was told directly that I couldn’t have the place because I wasn’t a european, in some other ways, more subtler hints of racism were used - at least they were taking the effort. I met a person who was into japanese thingies, and had a rice cooker which had options of settings for the kind of rice that one wants to cook - sticky, balmy, i don't even remember the rest of the options. But she served me a lovely tea.

One had gone through a miscarriage, and her mother was detected with cancer, and wasn’t sure about living with her current flatmate, also because maybe if things went well with her new boyfriend, they might have been moving in together.

I met another one who drew me a bath the first day of my moving in, because there was a family emergency and after keeping my stuff there, I was just flying to India. And, then later after I was back I had come back, we went to a small intimate concert, we went to the christmas market, so on... 

My cousin who lives in Lille (in France), asked me what it meant when I said Austria is richer, and how does it translate and so on. We were also talking about how white Austria is and the society could be quite insular, and with the language barrier, it becomes more. I was telling her that the public transport system is great, they don't even bother having ticket checking machines on entries to metro or the tram or the bus or whatever. They just don’t bother.

But did I tell her that the public transport system in Vienna is completely accessible? Did I tell her that the cars stopped for people waiting on the crossing? And generally how life on the street becomes softer. I wonder if we discussed what it meant not to having ticket checking machines like in Paris. Did it mean that not regulating people flow like that, not disciplining the crowd like that, had some implication in the larger scheme of things? I don’t know if we discussed all this. But I was discussing with someone how is it good to be poorer in a richer country. And Vienna has a lot of that. It’s of course not easy for the poorest of poor, but when you are doing work like I do, and earn like I do, all the public services you can get is welcome and great. 

Being in such a weather is also something. I used to feel colder than it was, because I was also constantly told, that this wasn’t cold enough now, and that it will get colder. In anticipation, I would shiver. And had started talking like yeah, it ain’t that cold - it’s 1.5 degrees. hahahhahaha... Cold Vienna can get-in weather and otherwise. But the beggar near my academy U Bahn station always smiled and greeted me. I had just once given him something, and that day was something else itself - otherwise I really don’t break the rule. 

Another evening, a frustrated lonely one I was on the U Bahn by myself, and this old person came sat right opposite me and just smiled and me. He very obviously didn’t know english, but we did share that smile. When I got off, incidentally he also did, and then he turned to me and in the broken english said - have a good day and left. Made my day :) 

Last evening I went to the Kebab shop close to the academy. I had only once been there before but today went I asked for a falafel box, the place had become a chinese place!!! That guy said he kept switching between the two cuisines. And I don’t know why but he gave me a free extra beer, and a fortune cookie. My fortune cookie read ‘tonight destiny has something special planned for you’. Having gutted down two beers, and a noodle with crispy duck and teriyaki sauce, when my friend called in I was like let’s go for a drink. 

We went to a place called cafe benno. She apparently had a history at that place. And it was interesting how in a twisted way that cafe had had intersections with her life. Sometimes in ways in which she hadn't even gone there. And sometimes not reaching there was what was the cause of things. It was also very interesting that these happenings and non happenings were seen by my friend as ‘new beginnings’.

This evening we did reach, and there we met a couple at the bar, who were very intrigued by this indian man, who had long hair, beard, and ate beef!!! The one drink turned out to be a long one, and we reached back only by four! And here we were the next day, at this flat getting our plans shattered. I had earlier in the day gone to the library, where the librarian didn’t take a minute to process my request for having books for two extra straight months because I was traveling for research, instead of the scheduled month long issuals. That day things were supposed to go well, and fine, and not the crisis that we were caught in this moment. 

The street where the park was, the urban garden was called max winter plaza. The door of the apartment had a notice saying ‘winter is coming’ - a signage basically for the door NOT to be left open. It really felt like the winter was now coming. But maybe winter is not such a bad thing after all. Look at this landscape I am flying over - all snowed in.

Now, I can’t wait to come back in March, and see the story unfold. 

The Winter is surely coming, and it is NOT a bad thing at all. 

Maybe the summer will come soon too. 

Here’s to winters, summers, and cafe bennos... :) 

[poge-life]

Only 6 months~ Drew Starkey

Summary: After spending a lot of time with Drew, saying goodbye is a lot harder than you expected.

“Hello all my beautiful people! I hope you all are being safe right now and are doing well. It’s currently 9:45 in the morning and Drew is still sleeping. So, I thought since he’s leaving for Charleston again in two days, I’d make him some breakfast in bed.” You told the camera, walking into the kitchen of your apartment in L.A.

You had been a Youtuber for a few years, starting back your freshman year in college and it escalated to a few years later. Your channel consisted of vlogging and D.I.Ys. The most popular videos right now were of you and Drew and the ones of you and the cast.

“So, Drew prefers tea on days he’s not filming so I’m gonna make some green tea and then I’m gonna start breakfast”

The video then transitioned to you drinking your coffee and scrolling through your phone. The next clip was of you standing by the stove.

“I’m just gonna do something simple; bacon, with toasted english muffins, eggs and maybe if there’s enough time, either a smoothie or a protein shake.”

It panned to you placing the bacon in the pan and cracking an egg into the pan next to it. It sped through the process, as you always did when you made food, stopping when you picked up your dog.

“This is Padfoot.” You smiled, showing off the black weiner dog, “he’s about four months old and he’s the love of my life. Just kidding. He likes Drew more than me. Which is fine because I like Drew too.”

“Breakfast is just about done. I think I heard the bathroom door so I think he’s up and it’s just in time.” You smiled at the camera

You quickly ran to your shared bedroom, placing the camera on your dresser, making sure you could see the door and the bed before making your way back to the kitchen, putting everything on a tray, and then making your way back to your room once again.

Drew was sat up against the headboard, phone in hand while the other was messing with his hair. He looked up at the sound of your footsteps and a smile made its way across his face.

“What’s this?”

“Well,” you started, sitting down on the bed, careful not to drop the tray, “you’re leaving again and you do so much for me, I figured I’d make today all about you.”

Drews heart melted at your words. He placed his phone down and leaned forward to place a kiss on your cheek before placing one on your lips.

“You’re the best, babe.”

Drew took the tray from you as you moved to grab the camera, “Safe to say, he liked the surprise.”

“Course I did!” Drew called, causing you to smile at him.

Drew was usually very private about his life but when it came to you and filming, he really didn’t mind it. Mainly because it was only for a few minutes of his life on camera.

“Well, I’m gonna let him eat breakfast and then I’m gonna hop in the shower and get ready for the day, so I’ll see you guys in a bit.”

“Thank you, baby. Seriously.” Drew smiled, “I appreciate you so much.”

You placed a kiss on his cheek before making your way to the bathroom to shower.

“What’s on the agenda for today?” Drew asked, stepping into the closet as you did your makeup.

“Was thinking we could go run some errands real quick and then grab lunch?”

“Sounds good to me.” he replied

Drew was quite blessed to have you in his life. He actually met you through Madelyn. She had brought you to set one day because you were going to school for TV and Film production and wanted to talk to Jonas about assisting him on set.

You got along well with the class but you and Drew hit it off really well. Considering he was the only one to have gone to college and actually majored in Film Production. So, he was interested right away.

Shortly after Madelyn brought you to set, you got invited to outings with them. Which then turned into quarantining with them to eventually you and Drew making it official.

Drew was an absolute sweetheart. He never did anything to make you uncomfortable. You guys always did date night once a week. Either going to dinner or Drew would make dinner for the two of you.

You even tagged along with him last summer when he went camping with his brother, Lilah and her boyfriend, Nick, and a few other people. Although, you mainly third wheeled with him and Nick. A bromance that no one could compete with.

You knew he was more stressed about this season with him being a main character. Which meant, more time filming, late night shoots, and less phone calls and facetime.

So, you decided to repay the favor by making the day all about him.

“Oo, look at you, Mr Handsome.” You teased, leaning against the door as you watched Drew button up his shirt.

Drew rolled his eyes but had a smile on his face nonetheless, “Me? Look at you.”

You had on a black long sleeve crop-top with a cheetah print skirt, paired with doc martens.

“Hurry up,” you clapped, “We have a schedule to maintain, Joseph.”

Drew narrowed his eyes at you at the use of his first name, “Yeah, keep that up babe. Real cute.”

You gave him a cheeky grin as you turned to grab your phone and wallet, “Just saying your name, babe.”

“You remember what happened last time you called me that, don’t you?” He asked, brushing past you to grab his watch off the nightstand.

You narrowed your eyes as you looked at him over your shoulder, heat rushing up your neck, “Touche, Starkey. Touche.”

Drew just sent you a wink as you both made your way out of the apartment.

You guys ran a few last minute errands for anything he might need in Charleston; longsleeves, toiletries, etc.

You had been looking forward to lunch all morning and Drew could tell by the way you practically tucked and rolled before he could even bring the car to a complete stop, laughing as he watched you rush into the restaurant, making his way after you.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, placing a kiss on your head as you answered Madelyn’s snapchats, waiting for the hostess. He grabbed your hand as you both followed after her, leading you out to the patio.

“It’s gonna be weird,”You started,”not having you around for 6 months.”

Drew gave your hand a squeeze as he sent you a smile, “You have a break coming up with school and I know Jonas won’t have a problem with you visiting. Madelyn still gives me shit over me seeing you more than her.”

You let out a laugh as you shook your head over your crazy best friend, “Believe me, Mads doesn’t let me forget either.”

“I’m really glad Madelyn brought you to set that day.” Drew sent you a smile, a loving look in his eyes.

Your heart swelled with love as you knew you looked at him the same way, “I am too.”

“Who knew I could get your attention by majoring in film production.” You teased. Drew let out a chuckle, rolling his eyes at you, “what can I say? An educated woman who has the same interests as me will most definitely get my attention.”

You just rolled your eyes as the waiter came up to the table.

The next two days went by in a flash. It was currently 6:30 in the morning and you were currently on your way to the airport, holding Drew’s hand as he sat in the passenger seat.

You guys were meeting Chase, Rudy, JD, Austin, and Maddie squared at the airport. Where you wouldn’t see them again for six months.

Drew turned to you with a smile on his face, “it’ll only be a few weeks before you get to come out and see me again.”

You nodded as you gave his hand a squeeze, not trusting your voice right now. He bright your hand up to his mouth to place a kiss on the back of it.

You watched with tears in your eyes as Drew was at baggage check, making sure everything was okay with his bags. Madison was saying goodbye to Marian and they were both having a hard time .

You sniffled as Drew made his way back over to you. He pulled you tight against him as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

You couldn’t help the tears that fell down your cheeks as you buried your face in his neck.

Drew placed a kiss on the side off your head as he pulled away, wiping the tears off your face, “Don’t cry. We’ll still facetime and you’ll come out on your breaks and I’m sure I can come see you when I have time off.”

You nodded, sniffling again as Drew placed a kiss on your forehead before placing his lips on yours.

“Alright, Joseph ,” Madelyn spoke, causing the two of you to pull apart, “Lemme hug her. You see her all the time.”

You let out a laugh as you turned to pull Madelyn into a hug, “Love you babe.”

“Love you too, Maddy.” You mumbled

Next was Madison, “Make sure Madddy isn’t too reckless.”

Madison let out a laugh as she squeezed you tighter, “We’ll see, babe.”

Rudy all but yanked out of Madison’s embrace, wrapping his arms around your head as you wrapped yours around his waist, “Try not to be too crazy, Rudes.”

“That’s like asking me to stop breathing, (y/n/n)” Rudy laughed, causing you to giggle.

JD and Chase both pulled you into a hug, “Try not to break anything,okay?”

JD let out a groan as he pulled away, “You put one hole in a wall…”

You let out a laugh as Austin made his way over to you, “C’mere.”

You wrapped your arms around him as he held you tight, “look after him, okay?”

You and Austin got close due to him and Drew being best friends and he was like a brother to you.

“You know I will.” Austin mumbled, pulling away from you

The P.A. system announced their flight was boarding and you turned to Drew.

He opened his arms and you all but threw yourself at him. Drew squeezed you tight as you pressed a kiss to his neck.

“I love you, Drew.” You mumbled, pulling away from him. Drew looked down at you as he pushed your hair behind your ear, “I love you too.”

He gave you one last kiss before pulling away. He grabbed his backpack before following after the group, Austin patting him on the back as they made their way to their gate, Mariah making her way over to you.

“We’ll be okay.” She said as you nodded, “Only a few weeks to go.”

[theartingace]

Okay, so a Reddit post got me wondering about centaurs and nursing. Do centaurs develop dual sets of mammary glands on both halves of their bodies? If they do, which set do baby centaurs nurse from? Is it a matter of using one set for one stage of development, then switching to the other after a point? Is it difficult to hold a toddlertaur against their human-type chest for feedings, or are there sling wraps that help with that when your infant becomes a gangly and fussy toddler?

I answered this WAAAY back, years ago now I guess lol and I initially was going to stick with the thought I had there (which was human-chest for newborns and babies in ‘arms’, horse udder for older tots running around until weaning age) but actually, the more I thought/drew it out the more I’m thinking they would just use the human chest to nurse.

If they’re already keeping them in a sling for most of the first few weeks to month and nursing conveniently from there, and since centaur babies are born more precocious than human infants I imagine they only nurse for as little as 3-6 months like horses before they tend to move to normal foods. So it doesn’t seem worth the hormonal mess it seems like it would be to transition to the horse udder for such a short period, especially when mom can just come down to bab’s level for a cuddle.

Also i realized humans don’t have long snouts to make getting to horse udders in any way convenient. So just kneeling for a fussy baby seems way easier lol

[aire-writes]

@raise-a-glass-2-freedom1776

Minors do not interact!

(rules page found here)

-This isn't beta read-

(This is likely going to get a 2nd chapter but I’m not feelin it right now, sorry UuU”)

You sat there waiting for Heisenberg to finish his work day after day. When he would come up he would shower, sit down, eat whatever you put in front of him and most often he would just flop down onto the bed you shared and fall asleep. You would sleep beside him, or at least to, he takes up so much of the bed some nights you would just get up and set up another place to sleep. It happens so often now that you just made an entire other bed for you to sleep in.

Your chest ached more and more as each day passed. Heisenberg wouldn’t even kiss you anymore. He would just come up from work shower, eat, and sleep. Does he even notice that you don’t sleep with him anymore? You do everything for this man and he just ignores you? You know he forbid you from entering the factory but, honestly, fuck that bitch, he owes you.

You threw open the metal doors to find him standing in front of a forge pouring molten metal into a mold. He turns to you with a murderous look on his face which quickly transitions to surprise and then to annoyance.

“I told you to stay up stairs!”

“You know what else you told me, Heisenberg?” You raised your voice, clearly challenging him for dominance. His face switched back to surprise and then to confusion. You only challenge him when he’s done something wrong… and he doesn’t know what it is he’s done this time.

You stand there arms crossed waiting for him to reply. “Well?”

“I uh… I, um..” His voice trailed off into something so soft if you weren’t listening to him you never would have heard it. You cross the room to stand before him with the stern look of ‘figure out what you’ve done or we are going to have a problem’

The level of big dick energy you give off is enough to have Heisenberg back up against the forge and place his hands on it to keep from being shoved into the worst of it.

You take his glasses off and toss them to the floor staring daggers into his eyes. In the quietest and most threatening demand he has ever heard in his life you ask him again, “What else have you told me, Heisenberg?”

You could tell the cogs in his brain are TURNING trying to figure it out. What it is that has you so pissed off that you would come down here and fucking CHALLENGE HIM?

He’s your alpha, the both of you are bonded! You listen to each other, you care for one another, you- “Oh shit.” It starts to hit him.

How many days in a row has he worked?

How many days in a row has he showered, eaten, and gone straight to sleep?

How many days in a row has he woken up without you?

He thought you had woken up before him and set off to do your work but, you sleep in compared to him.

‘Oh no’ he thought and everything completely clicked for him.

“Look” he moved his hands to your waist and tried to lead you back but you shoved his hands away from you while never breaking eye contact.

How many days in a row had turned into weeks?

Oh no, he has no idea how long he’s been doing this to you. Oh shit...

“Five” You said, your voice echoed off the walls.

“What?” His brow lifted and descended into a frown “Wha-”

“Four”

Oh shit, your counting down, what happens whe-

“Three”

His hands shoot to your shoulders “I’m sorry!” “Two”

Oh shit, oh no, you're- no-no-no-no-no-no!!

“On-” “I LOVE YOU” He roared over you before you could finish your countdown. He didn’t know what would happen at the end of it and didn’t want to find out.

“I love you, I do. I just got caught up in my work for a while. I’ll make it up to you. Whatever you want.” He tried to let his hands smooth down your posture into a more submissive stance. You wouldn’t budge for a second. The anger in your eyes never faltered.

“Tell me how long it's been since you last said that to me.”

Oh shit, oh no, he really needed a calendar. He thought about saying three weeks but that sounded far too long… right?

“It's been three whole weeks” He side-stepped away from you and into open space. He lift his arms towards the heaven to signal defeat and turned back to look at you and- oh shit, oh shit, oh SHIT, oh-FUCKING-NO.

Your ENTIRE body was seething with anger, he could smell the betrayal you felt through your scent. ‘Holy shit’ he thought to himself, ‘how long-’

“Three weeks?!" Your voice bounded off the walls "Try three months!” The way your voice wavered towards the end broke whatever cocky airs he was planning to put on to get out of being in trouble. There is no way for him to escape and he knew he didn’t deserve to escape. What was he supposed to say to fix this, where does he begin?

He lowered his arms towards you and forcibly drew you into a hug. You tried to escape from him but he wouldn’t let you. If he let you go he was afraid you would abandon him. Three months, he had lost himself for three months and you took care of him every day without so much as a thank you or even a kiss good night. The grip around you tightened while he placed a hand on the back of your head.

“I’m so sorry.” He whispered into your ear softly. He took in as much of your scent as he could, trying his best to take note of it and trying to figure out how he undo what he’s done. Placing his hands back onto your shoulders he gently guides you away from his body “I'm so sorry, I’ve deprived you of my love and affection for so long.” His cocky attitude was back but it was clear he had an objective and he planned to meet it.

“I can’t imagine how you did it.” He let you go and walked around the room, setting things upright on tables, putting tools in boxes, and papers in stacks. “But you did. You survived three entire months with a man child.” You scoffed at him. “That's an admirable thing to do.” He kept picking up the room as he spoke. “Something like that can’t go unrewarded.” Both arms swept across an old bed causing a mess to spread across the floor.

The way he used both arms to gesture towards you to get in the bed almost made you forget to actually look AT the bed. It was covered in all types of stains and now that you are paying attention to your surroundings you think… you think you can smell it from here!

You cross your arms again and look at him in disbelief, the confidence in his posture cracked for a moment and came back only to falter once more when he looked at what he was asking you to lay on.

“Alright!” He had one hand raised in his defense, like he was trying to keep a predator from devouring him. “You head up the stairs, I’ll shower and meet you up there.”

You aren’t going to let him set his own punishment.

“You’re making dinner tonight and every night for the next few weeks. You aren’t going to come back to work until I say so and we are going to sit down and set a schedule. You can only work so many hours a day and you WILL take a day off each week to spend with me. You are absolutely not allowed to enter into the factory on said day no matter what. Is this understood?” He looked at you in disbelief, you aren’t going to falter on any of these conditions and he can tell.

“Okay” he hung his head down low letting it gently bob up and down “sounds fair to me. Now, will you head up the stairs? I promise to shower and make us dinner.”

“Fine.” He let out a sigh of relief when those metal doors shut behind you.

[sasa-gay-yo]

Levi Gives You A Promise Ring

Request / Summary:  Levi worried about reader before a scouting mission (maybe they were hurt in the last one or something), and to make him feel better about it he gives reader a promise ring?

Timeline: Pre-Season 1 

Warnings: some swearin’ and suggested NSFW 

Art Credits: AoT 

He had called you into his office to try and convince you to stay back for today’s expedition. Walking to that dark, stuffy office, you were thinking about the numerous arguments you could give him that would make your place on the expedition team solid. You were a squadron leader. You were one of the best fighters that the Scouts had currently. Levi couldn’t hold you back just because you two had a relationship. How was he supposed to assign you to his elite squad next week when he can’t even let you go on a simple expedition?

However, you knew why he was worried about letting you go today. Last expedition you were injured by an abnormal. A new recruit was shellshocked by seeing his first titan and was easily grabbed off of his horse and body thrown towards the titan’s mouth like a snack. You swung through, shoving the boy out of the way, and your ODM line was caught by the titan. If you were to survive, you’d have to cut one of the wires and fall about forty feet to the ground. Levi watched helplessly as your body fell, but not before you sliced into the titan’s ankles.

Miche was the first one to reach you and pull the abnormal’s dead, limp body off of you. Levi came next, frowning at the fact that you were laughing at your bad fortune. The new recruit was also looking at you like you were crazy, and Levi made them run laps for that after their return. Levi, not able to show care in public, watched helplessly as Miche took you on his horse and cared for you until they returned from the expedition. Miche had done Levi’s job. In the HQ’s makeshift hospital, he watched as Hange wrapped feet after feet of bandages around your middle. Broken ribs and a sprained ankle and wrist. Still, he couldn’t come near you while Hange and Erwin were laughing at your jokes. He just had to sit back and watch the others care for you. At that moment, he decided that you wouldn’t be joining them for next months expedition, but he hadn’t told you of his decision yet. He couldn’t live like that. Always having to watch your risk your life for any member of the Scout’s while he sat on the sidelines.

You, now with a healed ankle and wrist and only a few bruises left on your abdomen, were about to get him to change his mind.

You knocked on his door and a grunt from inside signaled he knew it was you. You opened the door and slid in, closing it behind you. By the way he was sitting in the chair, you knew he was Captain Levi to you right now. Not the man who likes his shoulders massaged after hard training ODM with the new recruits.

“Squad Leader (Y/L/N), thank you for coming on such short notice.” You wanted to roll your eyes at his formality, but you knew that it would give him a reason to actually bar you from the expedition.

“Captain,” you let out, short and sweet so he knew how you were feeling about this meeting. He didn’t smile or smirk at you like he usually did with your sass, he just stared straight ahead thinking. Over and over in his head, he was replaying the image of you falling from the titan hands, your body bounding off the ground on impact. If only you listened to him when he said that it wasn’t your job to save the recruits, then you two wouldn’t be in this position. You crossed your arms, waiting for him to respond.

“I don’t think it to be wise for you to go on this expedition with your injuries still fresh.” He was bullshitting you. If your injuries were still fresh, why did he have you in his bed the day prior? He didn’t care about your injuries when his fingers left bruises on your hips. His secret marks of passion.

“With all due respect, Captain, my injuries have healed, and I’ve been cleared by Hange. I think medical knowledge outweighs your concern. Are you going to not let Petra go on this expedition too when she was injured recently?” He drew his eyebrows in with annoyance, one hand going to rub his temple. Why couldn’t you just listen to him, so he didn’t have to worry about you?

“(Y/F/N) can you just sit out this one, please? Everyone would understand why. There’s no reason to-“

“I thought you said you would never give me preferential treatment, Captain.” Little did he know, his actions when you were injured stung your heart. Even if he felt the need to hide your relationship, that doesn’t mean he can’t care for you as a worried Captain. He just stood there, watching Miche carry you on his horse, no protest or quick jabs of insults. Even when it was only Hange and Erwin, the two people who were already suspicious of you two, he barely looked or responded to your yelps of pain. He would only visit you once a week for five minutes, weary of the others who lay in the cots around you. It hurt you that you were visited by that new recruit whom you hadn’t know existed till you saved him more than your boyfriend, who you’ve known for five years. And now, after all of that, he’s showing whatever kind of concern this is by barring you from the mission?

“Are you upset with me for caring about you?” He had completely transitioned from Captain back into your Levi, but you wouldn’t let him have this moment. Your arms were crossed, jaw clench, and your eyes were boring holes into him. These were all the telltale signs that you were angry, having studied them in secret for years.

“You have no consistency, Captain.” He sighed this time, knowing now exactly what you were talking about. Did you really believe he felt no remorse? That he wasn’t fighting inside himself to go and grab you from Miche’s arms? To put the bandages on you himself since Hange was causing you even more pain with her incompetence?

“You know I cannot express my care for you under the watch of the others. Not only is it for privacy, but your safety could be at risk.” This time you rolled your eyes, loud and clear. He doubted so many of your abilities.

“My ability to defend myself shouldn’t be a problem, Captain, and your ability to just show a little care for me as a fellow soldier shouldn’t either. You can patch up Petra’s wounds, but as soon as I’m hurt, your hands don’t work anymore, it seems.” He slammed his fist against the table at the mentioned of Petra’s name. Why is it always Petra? Oh, yes, besides the fact that she told you that she had feelings for the Captain, why was it her?

“Do you think I don’t feel pain when you’re injured?! Is that it? You don’t think I care about you?!” Now, all formality was off. You were yelling. Hopefully, someone didn’t walk by and ruin Levi’s want for privacy. It was a possibility to, seeing that the expedition is supposed to depart soon.

“If you care you have a funny way of showing it, Levi! Not doing anything when I get injured, not visiting me, not tending to my wounds, only to order me to not go on the expedition?! You know my squad needs me, so you’re being selfish now, but how come you can only be selfish behind this door, huh?” You pointed to the wood behind you, the one you were about to walk out of and slam in his face. It infuriated you that he thought he could assert his control over you like this. If he showed you one ounce of concern while you were hurt or in the medical barracks, maybe, just maybe, you would let him. You would stay behind, sleeping in his fresh sheets, and rest a bit longer. But now, it seemed he was only concerned about you because he was in pain.

He stood up slowly from his desk, eyes still on his fist which connected with the wood.

“How dare you think I don’t care about you. Do you know how much I wanted to go to you? How I wanted to rip those bandaged out of Hange’s hands and do it myself? How I wanted to kill that new recruit for not only causing you harm, but for visiting you and talking about you during training?  I’m suffering inside because I can only hold you at night. I can’t sleep when you’re not with me! Do you know how many days of unrest I got while you stayed in the barracks? I want to tell everyone. I want to get up on that damn table in the lunch hall and announce to your little fucking fan club that you’re mine, goddamn it! But I can’t. You know why? I care about you too much to let the Royal Government put a target on your back because of me! To let everyone know that you’re Captain Levi’s would let those who want to kill me know the same. There’s so many in the Underground who I know would jump at the chance to hurt me, and I’m not ready to let you live through my past mistakes. I’m not ready to let you get hurt in front of me while the only thing I can do is stand and watch!” He was breathing heavy at this point, and you had your hand on your heart. It was beating fast at this sudden burst of emotion. You weren’t used to this Levi. Only in your shared bed would he show a glimpse of what the demons he was truly fighting inside, but now he yelled it loud enough that it Erwin was in his office, he would have heard all of Levi’s soliloquy. The last line. That last line wasn’t about his past or the Underground. That last line was about the expeditions. About watching you fall to the ground before his eyes, the titan falling on top of you.

His breathing hadn’t stabilized, and you couldn’t see his face to know how he was feeling. You couldn’t get a glimpse into what he was thinking.

“Levi,” you said, your voice soft. Had you known all of this previously, this problem wouldn’t have occurred. If only he told you about how you felt, and only if you told him your frustrations with his displays of emotion. Your problems were always about communication. Levi didn’t know how to communicate love to anyone.

“Do you know how many times that scene replays in my mind? You falling? Your body smacking into the ground, rolling as the titan falls on top of you? Over and over. Erwin knows about our relationship because he heard me yell for you when it happened. I shouted my name for you.” Your eyes widened, remembering hearing that. Hearing the name that he gave you behind closed doors be announced over the battlefield. The name that signified his private love for you. The name he never used around anyone, for it being too revealing of his emotion. You thought it was your mind playing tricks on you then. There was no way that the man who turned a cold shoulder to you had shouted that out of the battlefield.

“Erwin knows.” It wasn’t a question, but more of a confirmation to you. Confirming that Levi had told someone on his own accord, even if it was because of a mess up. Someone knew about your relationship, and it lightened some metaphorical load on your shoulders. Erwin knew. The Commander knew and he had a whole month to tell you two that it was against the rules for officers to have certain relationships with each other on the pretense of nepotism. That meant he didn’t care, or rather, he approved.

“I wanted to give you something, at a different time and in a different setting, but I don’t think I can let you leave today without it.” That made you lighten up even more. He was letting you go on the expedition.

“What is it?” He opened the top draw of his desk and dug into it, walking over to you with something in his palm. When he opened his palm, there lie a small circle of green jade. Your heart sped up again, not knowing what this was for.

“Levi…?” You asked breathlessly. You two had only been dating for a few months, so it couldn’t have been that, but you’ve almost never gotten a gift like this from him. It was always tea or some chocolates he brought back from meetings in Mitras. One day, he brought back clothes for you, and you had to tell everyone you bought it in Trost, fighting back to the urge to brag about Levi’s care for you. However, this ring, whatever it was meant for, this wasn’t just something you could lie about or hide in your dresser drawer.

“I read about this in a book. The main character wanted to give something to the person he loved, just so they knew how deep it was. Its a promise. A promise to love you. To care for you. As long as I’m alive. No matter how cold I seem to be on the outside, I care for you. I care so much it hurts. And… and if you’re ever in a situation when you’re doubting me, like the one we are in now, then you have this,” he held it up for you to look at, before grabbing you hand and slipping it on. The jade felt cold against your finger, but you were surprised at the sung fit. Your eyes teared up.

“Levi, it beautiful,” was all you could breathe out. You were on cloud nine, receiving this gift of devotion, but also having him say it out loud. The shouts of the past fifteen minutes had faded in your memory with one touch of this jade. He linked his fingers in yours, holding your hand up so he could see and feel the jade on your finger. He marveled at it too, something inside of his tightening at the thought of a ring on your finger. A ring he had given you.

“I promise to be by your side forever, (Y/F/N).” You looked up at him this time, wiping the tears from the corner of your eyes. Never had anyone in their lives devoted themselves to you like Levi just had. Instead of responding verbally, you pulled his face in, kissing him in the middle of his office. His grip tightened on your hand as you did this, allowing you to feel the passion run throughout your whole body.

A knock at the door had broke you two apart, but your hands were still connected. Erwin’s head popped in slowly, knowing that he might walk into to something very different. He’d seen you stalk off to Levi’s office in a huff, ordering some cadet to hitch your horse for you. Yet, he saw that your hands were connected, and when Levi didn’t push you away from him, hands still together for Erwin to see, your smile radiated enough for Erwin to feel his effects. Good. He needed his two best fighters to be happy again.

“Hurry up, you two. We’re leaving and it’s going to be obvious who’s missing soon.” You were the first to let go, knowing that you’d probably have to feign some innocence for the others. The fan club Levi had mentioned liked to know your every move so they could cater to it. You decided that walking down with Erwin was probably the best bet at secrecy and so you bid Levi a smile goodbye before walking out into the hallway with the Commander.

“I didn’t know he told you, Erwin.” The blonde man huffed once in laughter, looking down at your hand. He recognized that ring, Levi quickly confining with the man about relationship advice. Erwin wouldn’t tell you, it wasn’t his place, but Levi was as eager to finally have someone to talk about your relationship with.

“It was due to a mistake, but yes, he told me. He threatened me as well. A very bold move for a subordinate.” You knew he was only joking, and you lifted your hand up to cover your laugh, imagining Erwin punishing Levi of all people for that.

“I’m sorry on his behalf, Commander.” You reached the door out into the field, everyone getting lined up in their formation to leave. Somehow, Levi was already there, sitting on top of his horse with that same neutral expression. When he saw you and Erwin walk out, it didn’t change at all, but this time it left no sting like it had previous.

“No worries, Squad Leader (Y/L/N). I’m glad the ring fits, he was worried about that.” The wicked smirk that broke across your face was confirmation to Levi that Erwin had told you something about their secret conversations about you. He glared at the blonde as he climbed up on the horse next to him.

“I moved Squad Leader (Y/L/N)’s camp closer up in the middle so you won’t have to worry, Captain.” Erwin purposely said that out loud, the others around them trying to pretend they didn’t hear their Commander’s words. Levi’s glared intensified and he gripped the reigns. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw you mount your horse, only thirty feet away from him.

“Why would I care, Commander? Good for them. Now when they mess up, they can have us to back up their asses,” Levi growled out, trying to make it sound as harsh as possible. That made the others around stop listening, hearing a normal response from their Captain.

“I’m glad it fit, Captain,” Erwin said lowly, starting his horse to walk up to the front of the formation to give a rousing speech. Levi’s expression softened a bit, but he looked forward, testing out angles that made sure you were always in his periphery.

“I am too, Commander.”

Masterlist

[whisperlullaby]

Team-Building

Pairing: Bucky x Reader x Sam

Words: 2369

Warnings: Smut (18+only), oral (f and m receiving), threesome, explicit language

Summary: You are an HR receptionist lucky enough to be around each time Sam and Bucky come in to attend their mediation sessions. They want to apologize for making you stay late one night. 

A/N: Written for my lovely @river-soul read over and confirmed it’s not trash by @syntheticavenger Gifs by @navybrat817​ Minors please DO NOT INTERACT. This is my first time writing a threesome so be kind with feedback! If I missed any warnings let me know and PLEASE enjoy.

The ticking of the clock seemed to get louder as you become more impatient at the fact you were still at work well past closing. As an HR receptionist, it was your responsibility to process the paperwork involved in Steve giving Sam the shield. You had been working tirelessly, trying to get everything in order, and yet you couldn’t seem to get that last signature needed to finalize the transition. The bickering between Sam and Bucky was holding everything up. They had to go to HR at least once a day if not more to meet with the staff mediator, Emma. You were tasked with locking up the office and you couldn’t very well do that while there were people still in the building, no matter how tempting. Finally, you heard to door click open and each person filed out.

“Now, gentlemen, I hope this can be our last meeting.” Emma sighed, “Just try to find some common ground. Maybe find a hobby or activity you can do together. Kind of like team building.”

You chuckled listening to Emma. She was a complete angel coming in multiple times a day just to field the laundry list of complaints against the duo for their behavior. Your laughing drew in the attention of the pair and as Emma left, they stopped at your desk.

“Hey, there sugar what are you doing here so late?” Sam cocked his eyebrow leaning on your desk.

“Well, Sam there are these two idiots who keep getting into shit with the rest of the team and have late end-of-the-day mediations. Guess who can’t close up the office until those sessions end, and everyone leaves the building?” You teased.

“Doll, I don’t think it’s nice to call Emma an idiot. Sam sure, but Emma? She’s a saint. Has to put up with that asshole.” Bucky gestured to Sam with a smirk.

You couldn’t help but laugh. You have known Sam and Bucky for a few months now since they started coming into HR for their mediation. At first, it was polite hello’s given before they bickered their way out of the office. Soon they began to hang over your desk as you finished up tasks and walked you to your car almost nightly. Sam would occasionally bring you your favorite coffee, and as if to one-up him, Bucky would bring you your favorite flowers. He would tell you they would last much longer than some silly coffee. 

They stayed close to your desk as you went about locking up, watching you closely and sharing knowing glances. You squinted your eyes suspiciously at the two of them and when you finally managed to shoo them out of the building to lock up, they followed you to your car.

“So, any plans tonight?” Sam asked throwing his arm around your shoulders.

“Just going home, ordering take out, and drinking copious amounts of wine. What about you guys? Gonna find out if you have any hobby’s in common?” You laugh, shrugging off Sam’s shoulder as Bucky grabbed your hand.

“Oh I don’t think Sam and I have much in common outside of enjoying your company.” Bucky brought your hand to his face and gave it a kiss. “How about you let us treat you to dinner?”

You smiled at Bucky and looked over at Sam who could hardly contain his amusement. 

“If you guys behave. I’m not about to referee a fight between the two of you. It’s been a long enough week as it is.”

“Don’t worry honey, we’ll be on our best behavior and who knows. Maybe you’ll let us eat out with you more often.” Sam gave you a cheeky grin.

You gave Sam a confused look, “Right, except we’re eating in. I’ve had enough of people I just want a relaxing night at home.”

“Don’t worry doll, we’ll help you relax.” Bucky winked at you.

You gave them your address and told them to give you an hour. After you picked up more wine at the liquor store, you sent Sam a text to pick up the food and headed back home. When you got home you frantically ran around and cleaned up as best as you could. You changed into some shorts and a tank top just in time to hear knocking at your door. Pulling it open revealed Sam and Bucky leaning against the door jam holding bags of Chinese food. 

“Jeeze guys did you order enough food?” You stepped aside letting them in.

Sam planted a kiss on your forehead and went into the kitchen. “Gotta make sure we get your energy up after you had to deal with two of the most exhausting people all week.”

Bucky followed Sam after pulling you into a hug.”Sam, I think I said earlier that it’s not nice to talk about Emma like that when all she’s trying to do is help you.”

You went into the kitchen to pull wine glasses down from the top shelf. Normally when it was just you, you would drink directly from the bottle. Why dirty another dish? As you reached up on your tiptoes you felt your tanktop slide up your body. After struggling to try to reach the glasses, you felt a warm hand on your exposed hip and a heavy body press behind you.

“If you needed help reaching something honey you could have just asked,” Sam whispered low in your ear as he grabbed the glasses and placed them next to you on the counter.

He released your hip and turned to grab the wine. You were still facing the counter trying to slow your breathing. When you turned around you were face to face with Bucky as he reached behind you to grab the glasses. 

“We kind of need the glasses doll, or are you hoarding them all for yourself?” Bucky leaned forward, caging you against the counter. You heard the faint clinking of the glasses as Bucky grabbed them never once breaking eye contact with you.

“Um yeah, you guys help yourselves I’ll be right back.” 

You ran into the bathroom and splashed water on your face. You had to be imagining things, right? Sam and Bucky who came to professional couples counseling weekly were in your home and getting very close. Did they notice how you looked at them each time they came into the office? You had to have been caught staring at Sam’s ass on more than one occasion with the amount you did it. You lost count of the number of times you had to have Bucky repeat what he just said because you got lost in the low gravel of his voice. The jig was up. They were definitely onto you and they were going to tease you mercilessly for it, you were sure of it.

When you came out of the bathroom Sam and Bucky were in the kitchen speaking in hushed tones. At the creek of the floor under you, they snapped their attention in your direction. They slowly started making their way over to you, their eyes glued to your body.

“Oh sweetheart, were we making you uncomfortable?” Bucky smirked.

“I know Bucky can be intimidating but you didn’t have to go getting all wet on his account.” Sam gestured to your chest.

You tilted your head in confusion and looked down. When you splashed the water on your face you must have overdone it seeing as the entire front of your shirt was soaked through, putting your nipples on full display.

“I am so sorry,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest, “I’m going to go put on a dry shirt I’ll be right back.”

You ran into your bedroom and quickly sifted through the drawers to find another shirt to wear. As you took off the offensive tank top you heard the door to your room creak open and saw Sam and Bucky watching you.

“You know sugar, Emma had told us to find something we had in common. Something we could do together that we both enjoyed. Called it ‘team-building’,” Sam walked over to you and brushed his fingers over your cheek. 

“We thought she was out of her mind suggesting it. What could we possibly have in common?” Bucky moved behind you, circling his arms around your hips pressing soft kisses into your neck. 

Sam brought his finger under your chin and lifted your head to meet his warm brown eyes.

“We finally figured it out. We have you in common. We can’t stop thinking about you and we’ve noticed how you look at us. You want us too right?”

You let out a small whine and nodded, “Yes, I can’t stop thinking about you two.” Bucky smiled into your neck. “Yeah doll? When do you think about us? When you touch yourself?”

His warm breath on your neck made you shiver. Your nipples pebbled and Sam brought his hands to your chest, gently massaging the soft skin. You moaned at the sensation and Sam pinched your nipples intensifying the feeling.

“I think the tin man asked you a question honey, why don’t you answer him?” Sam cooed.

Bucky growled at the statement and you could feel your arousal pool in your panties. 

“Yes,” you whimpered, “I touch myself when I think of you two.”

Sam hooked his fingers in the hem of your shorts pulling them down along with your underwear, leaving you completely bare to the two men. Bucky gripped your wrists and moved them down to your core. 

“Show us how you touch yourself doll.” Bucky placed nips and kisses along your shoulder.

You started making slow circles on your clit, throwing your head back into Bucky’s chest. You dip one finger inside your wet channel slowly, sighing with relief. As you continue your ministrations Bucky moves his hands over your breast groping them. You were about to add another finger when you felt Sam grip your wrist pulling your hand away from your core. You looked down at him to watch as he took your fingers into his mouth to suck them clean.

“You taste so good, honey.” Sam hummed before he gripped the back of your thigh and lifted it over his shoulder. He held your ass as he pressed his face into your dripping core licking a stripe straight to your clit. He sucked on the bundle of nerves while Bucky continued to leave marks on your neck. Sam added two fingers into you and expertly stroked your sweet spot.

“Come on doll, fall apart for Sam. Cum for him so I can make you scream my name next.” Bucky pinched your nipples and your orgasm rushed through you. 

Sam worked you through your orgasm licking up all your release. When he stood up he stripped off his shirt exposing his chiseled torso. He removed his pants letting his hardened cock slap his stomach. Bucky released you as Sam moved forward to capture your lips in a tender kiss. You could hear more clothes dropping to the ground and when you turned your head Bucky was on full display, the metal of his arm glimmering in the moonlight. Bucky smoothed his hand across your cheek tilting your face to meet his for a soft kiss. Pushing Sam away from you, Bucky guided you to the bed to lay you down.

“I can’t wait anymore sweetheart I have to feel you around my cock” Bucky lined himself up. Before he could push in, you felt the bed dip and saw Sam stroking himself next to you. You licked your lips and reached for him. Before you reached him, Bucky flipped you on all fours and guided your hips back, his length slowly spearing you. You moaned at the full sensation as Bucky bottomed out stilling for a moment.

Sam positioned himself in front of you, “Come on sugar, I want to see what that mouth can do.” 

You opened your mouth and licked the pre-cum off before wrapping your lips around his length and hollowing out your cheeks. Sam pushed himself in until you felt him touch the back of your throat, causing you to gag slightly as he moaned.

“Sam, do that again, she squeezed the shit out of me.” Bucky smacked your ass causing you to move forward taking in more of Sam, humming with satisfaction.

“Shit, I’ll do that again if you keep that up. The mouth on her feels like heaven” 

Bucky started thrusting in and out of you ravenously. Each time your hips met, you took Sam deeper down your throat, drool running out of your mouth coating his cock. Sam pulled your hair causing you to whimper, the sound only spurred both men on. Bucky brought his metal hand down to your clit, pinching it. 

“You gonna be a good girl and cum for me doll? Make a mess of my cock.”

You nodded and Sam groaned pinching one of your nipples.

“Fuck sugar, you’re gonna make me cum. Can I cum down your throat?”

You hummed with approval as Sam fucked your throat. You felt hot ropes fill your mouth and you tried to make sure you took everything Sam had to give you. Bucky continued to fuck you as your own orgasm hit you causing you to cry out his name. His hips stuttered as he reached his own release.

“Told ya she’d be screaming my name bird brain.” Bucky teased as you fell onto the mattress.

“Well, that’s because her mouth was full and our girl knows better than to talk with her mouth full, isn’t that right honey.” Sam brushed your hair out of your face and kissed your cheek.

You hummed in contentment completely fucked out. Bucky got up to get a washcloth to clean you up as Sam soothed his fingers down your back. 

“You hungry doll? We did get enough food for a small army and I know you’re gonna need your energy.” Bucky stated nonchalantly. 

You sat up and looked at Bucky with your eyebrows pinched together.

“Why would I need my energy?”

Sam pulled you to his chest, “Oh honey, you didn’t think that was the only round did you?”

[you-didnt-see-that-cuming]

Mirror’s Image | Javier Peña x Reader

Summary: Being with Javier feels like paradise. Being fucked against a mirror by Javier feels like euphoria.

Rated: E

Word Count: 2.7k

AO3 Link

Masterlist

A/N: I’ve been on my loving pedro bullshit again so here is some mirror sex with javier peña

When working as a DEA agent in Colombia, there were rarely ever moments that called for celebration. However, the raid based on information that Y/N had spent countless hours and sleepless nights collecting and deciphering was definitely one of those moments. Several tons of cocaine, crates of firearms, and multiple high-ranking and very wanted narcos had been seized with no casualties, along with new information about how Escobar was smuggling things in and out of Colombia. 

Even Carillo, who rarely ever smiled, had seen all the work Y/N had put into organizing the raid and was hiding a grin when he announced a celebratory dinner at a bar down the street from the embassy. Y/N was heading back to the police cruisers for a ride back to the embassy when Javier appeared suddenly at her side, his voice low and his hand sliding into her back pocket. 

“You have no idea how sexy you looked pointing a gun and shouting orders hermosa, I almost took you right then and there,” he whispered, leaning closer so that only she could hear him. Y/N could feel her cheeks heat and a spark tugging deep in her stomach. The two of them had been secretly seeing each other for over a year, not even clueing Murphy in on what they were behind closed doors. 

“Javier! What if someone sees us?” Y/N whispered harshly, although she wished she could lean into him and finally feel his hands on her properly after the long day they had had. His hands were always warm and soft against her skin, a juxtaposition from his perfectly calloused fingertips that would leave marks on her sides for weeks. The thought of him holding her up against the wall, bruising her thighs as he drew orgasm after orgasm from her was enough to make her feel an even more powerful surge of sparks in her abdomen. 

“Don’t worry hermosa, I’ll have you all to myself tonight,” Javier leaned into her neck and lightly bit down on the edge of her earlobe, sending shivers down her spine and intensifying the sparks in her core. Her eyes fluttered shut as Javier pulled away, walking in the opposite direction as if nothing had happened, a confident swagger in his gait. 

Y/N had to bite her lip to keep from moaning, now frustrated and wanting a certain someone between her legs, and it wasn’t until Carillo’s voice startled her out of her thoughts that Y/N took her eyes off of Javier and his immaculate frame. 

“You alright there Y/N? I thought you’d be heading back to get ready for tonight?” Carillo was an intimidating man, his shoulders and chest broad and a no-nonsense sort of look that was plastered on his face at all times. 

“Oh! Yes, um, I was just distracted for a moment, yes I’m heading back right now, I think I’m going to take a shower and get all of this grime off of me,” Y/N chuckled nervously before she rushed into one of the cruisers getting ready to leave for the embassy. She still had a couple hours before she had to arrive at the time Carillo had given everyone, and although Carillo was a stickler for punctuality, Y/N would still have time to unwind in the shower and prepare for the night. After all, if she wanted to spend the night with Javier like he had teased her earlier, she might as well make it worth her while. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N’s shower was the first time that she had been able to fully relax over the past few months. Almost all of her time had been spent pouring over evidence and tracking down witnesses and information, so the steam was a welcome treat for her aching muscles. Y/N stood beneath the rainfall setting of her shower, slowly kneading at the knots in her shoulders. She hadn’t realized just how long it had been since she had done something as indulgent as taking a hot shower for longer than 20 minutes. Her only true indulgence had been Javier’s company whenever they decided to spend the night together. After a long shower that was desperately needed, it didn’t take long to finish getting ready and begin the drive to the bar. 

It wasn’t a long drive, only about 10 minutes, but it gave Y/N the opportunity to listen to the radio and reflect. So much had happened within the two years that she had been working with the DEA in Colombia. The first 10 months or so had been filled with helping Javier and Murphy on cases, all while dealing with dangerous narcos and dodging the flirtatious advances of Javier. 

It wasn’t until Y/N had gotten shot in the stomach on one of their assignments that Javier had realized that the reason why he hadn’t been frequenting the best brothels of Bogota for the past couple months was because of Y/N. Only 4 weeks later, the two had begun secretly seeing each other after work, meeting up at restaurants where no one they knew could run into them. 

But Javier had promised that once Y/N had gotten her big break on a case, they would go together to HR and officially fill out the paperwork stating that they were a couple. Y/N had just gotten her big break on a case. She knew that the raid wouldn’t be the only thing that she would be celebrating that night.

~~~~~~~~~~

After a couple of drinks, everyone seemed to have loosened up and were engaged in loud conversation with one another. Y/N, however, kept glancing over to Javier, who was seated next to her. He always looked attractive, but Y/N could practically feel the sex appeal that was coming off of him in waves. He was wearing a button up with the top few buttons left open, revealing his smooth, tanned chest. She didn’t blame the lingering eyes of other women in the bar, after all, she had been one of them not too long ago. 

So far, they had been careful about any public displays of affection, but after the stunt that Javier had pulled back at the raid, Y/N decided to throw all caution to the wind. Carefully, she placed her hand on his knee under the table. She could feel how he tensed slightly under her touch before relaxing again. Y/N waited a few moments before she began slowly running her fingers up his thigh, taking her time to draw flowing patterns like vines.

It wasn’t until she was only a few inches away from his groin when his hand suddenly seized her wrist. He leaned in close, just as he had done at the raid, but this time there was an edge to his voice, like he was straining to get the words out. 

“What do you think you’re doing hermosa?” his words were almost like a growl with how deep his voice had gotten. 

Y/N blinked innocently at him, an expression that did not match what she was attempting to do with her hands. 

“What do you mean, Javi?” a smile was starting to spread across her face at Javier’s raised eyebrow. His grip tightened slightly around her wrist before he released her, standing up abruptly. Pulling an almost empty pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, he stalked off towards the back door of the bar, presumably to smoke in the back alley. 

Y/N had certainly gotten a reaction from him, he was always so… responsive beneath her touch. She would pay for it later though, a thought that had her mouth watering and her thighs clenching together. Recalling the memory of his face between her thighs or her front pressed against the balcony window as he pounded into her from behind, teasing her and forcing her over the edge more times than she could count was enough to make her desperate for his touch. 

Y/N waited until the song that was playing over the speakers had begun transitioning into the next before she stood to follow him. Y/N knew where to go, the door to the back alley was in the service hallway next to the bathrooms, a trip she had taken multiple times before for various drunken smoke breaks.

She almost had no time to react when she was suddenly pulled into one of the bathrooms and pushed up against the door, forcing the air out of her lungs. Javier’s mouth was on her neck within seconds, tracing the line of her jaw and down to her shoulder.

“Querida, you have no idea what you do to me, do you?” he murmured, his lips still tracing her neck. 

“Mmm, why don’t you show me, mi amor?

Javier’s lips were on hers within seconds, his hands roaming across her body like he couldn’t get enough of her touch and the feeling of her skin beneath his fingertips. 

Y/N couldn’t help but moan, Javier tasted of his usual whiskey and cigarettes, a combination that was always intoxicating to her. He wasted no time in beginning to unbutton the buttons of her blouse, trying to rid her of as much clothing as possible so that he could touch more of her. 

Their kiss quickly became frenzied, both of them chasing a high that only the other could give. Within moments, Javier’s hands were on Y/N’s waist, turning her around and pressing her up against the mirror covered wall.

“Look at how perfect you look for me querida, looking like a fucking angel for me,” Javier’s voice was deep and raspy as he mouthed kisses over her neck, slowly and with purpose.

Y/N used her arms to brace herself against the mirror, looking at her reflection through her lashes. She looked absolutely wrecked, her hair was a mess, lips puffy, and the heaving of her chest from her panting was on full display. Javier stood behind her, giving open mouth kisses to her neck as his large hands traveled up her abdomen, squeezing one of her breasts in his hand. 

“Look at how beautiful you look for me, hermosa,” his voice now a low growl that sent shivers down her spine. 

“Javi, please! Do something, I- I need you to touch me,” Y/N was pliable beneath his touch, she could feel his cock gliding over her folds, teasing her as she arched her back. 

Without warning, Javier thrust forward, sheathing himself within her in one, swift movement, forcing a gasp from her lips. He stilled for only a moment before setting a punishing pace. Each thrust drove deeper and harder into Y/N, slowly pulling her apart and driving all rationale from her. 

Y/N moaned as she watched their reflection in the mirror, her breasts bouncing with every thrust, the glimpse of Javier’s curls from behind her shoulder, the indentations of her waist where his fingers held her, and the way his cock looked every time he entered her. All of it made her stomach spark in arousal. 

With one particularly hard thrust, Y/N let out a cry, her arms giving out and her body pressing up against the cold mirror. She could see the condensation building from their gasping moans and the heat of their bodies. 

“Oh my god, Javier, r-right there, fuck-” a broken moan escaped her lips as he continued fucking into her, his fingers coming to grasp her thigh roughly.

“You like that princess? You like how I fuck you?” Javier growled, his hand pressing even deeper into the flesh of her thighs and waist.

“Yes, oh my god, yes!” Y/N’s moans echoed slightly off of the tiled walls. “God you feel so good, don’t stop Javi,”

“Always look like a fucking vision on my cock, don’t you? Always feel so fucking good for me, because you are all mine,” he said, biting down on her shoulder. A thin sheen of sweat was layered over Javier’s beautiful, tanned, olive skin, emphasizing the flexing of his muscles with every movement.

With his right hand, Javier threaded his fingers through her hair, grasping it in a vice-like hold at the back of her head, and roughly pulled her up so that they made eye contact through the mirror, Y/N’s mouth falling open in arousal at his actions. 

“Look at how gorgeous you look for me, coming apart on my cock,” Javi had a smirk on his face, like he knew that she was completely at his mercy. “You like it when I fuck you like this? In the bathroom while everyone thinks you’re out smoking?”

Y/N couldn’t even attempt to answer properly, her mind too clouded with euphoria and the building of her orgasm, each rigorous thrust pushing her further over the edge. 

“Come on, answer me amado, you like being fucked like this?” Javier’s brought his hand down in a firm slap to Y/N’s ass, drawing a shocked yelp from her lips. 

“Yes! Yes, I love it Javi, please I- I’m going to cum, don’t stop!”

It only took a few more thrusts before Javier’s hips began stuttering and losing their steady rhythm.

“Where do you want me querida?” he asked, his voice a husky whisper in her ear.

“Inside, please I want you inside me Javi,” her voice was a breathy moan, a sound which always drove Javier over the edge. 

Y/N’s orgasm washed over her, her vision temporarily going white from the euphoria she was experiencing. Only moments later, Javier’s low moan registered next to her ear as he came, filling her up with his cum. 

Javier was still pressed to Y/N’s back, both of them panting as they tried to catch their breaths.

“You always look so beautiful after I fuck you, mi alma, I swear its like you were sculpted by the gods,” Javier mumbled as he pressed gentle kisses to her shoulder, just like he always did after he made her fall apart beneath his touch. Y/N loved this Javi, this was the Javi who woke up early on the weekends to go to the farmers market to get fresh fruit for her, the Javi who danced slowly with her in his living room to his old vinyls, the Javi who no one else but she got to see. 

“Mmm, you always take such good care of me, amado,” Y/N was met with a soft grunt as Javier wrapped his arms around her midsection, pulling her even closer to his body. 

“I’m going to show you just how well I can take care of you tonight, after all, you deserve to be worshipped,” he said as he continued pressing kisses to wherever he could reach. Javier had always been soft and gentle after sex, after years of meaningless sex with informants and prostitutes, he craved the caring touch he only got when he was with Y/N. 

A comfortable silence passed between them before Javier slowly pulled out, his cum slowly beginning to drip down Y/N’s thighs. Y/N barely registered that Javier had taken a damp paper towel and was cleaning up the mess he had left inside her. 

Y/N turned, leaning back against the mirror to watch Javier as he began getting redressed. Only a moment later, he began redressing Y/N, tenderly moving her body to put on her blouse and skirt. 

Y/N hummed, her hand coming up to caress Javier’s cheek lovingly.

“See? Like I said, always taking such good care of me,”

A longing look crossed over Javier’s eyes before he took her face in his hands, pulling her into a slow, passionate kiss. When they finally parted from their sweet embrace, Javier rested his forehead against hers, letting his eyes flutter closed in content and happiness.

“Te amo, mi alma,”

“Te amo, Javier,”

[itsallyscorner]

I don’t know if it’s too much to ask, but when you’re done with all your requests, can you please do a part 2 of getting to know you?❤️

Hello darling!💕 Thank you for the request and I’m so sorry it took me so long; I was waiting for Cherry to come out to write this and I also have time to finally write. I hope you like it!💕 *CHERRY SPOLIERS*

A/n: Hello my loves! I just wanted to say that these kind of fics are the closest I will get to writing for Cherry. I will not be writing about the characters in the story, I will only be writing about the filming process, working with Tom, etc. Now that I mentioned that, I wanted to let you all know that this is going to be a bit more of a happier fic! I see a lot of people writing about the hard parts of filming Cherry so I thought why not have a little fun one? I’m sure they had some laughs on set, I briefly remember Ciara and Tom mentioning it. But yeah that’s all, enjoy the fic! Ally xx

💌.

I’m Really Happy You’re Here

(GIF @thollandgifs )

Tom watched you from a distance. From where he was, he could hear the sound of your bubbly laugh and see that bright smile on your face. Your smile was contagious. The way your eyes crinkled at the ends and how your smile squished into your cheeks was something he’s grown fond of over the past eight weeks. Though the difference from the previous weeks was that your cheeks were fuller and the bleak expressions of Emily did not shadow your face anymore.

The last eight weeks of filming have been rough. Both on you and him, along with the rest of the cast and crew. Having to begin filming with the ‘Dope Life’ section of the movie was not a pleasant way of starting a months long project. He felt drained after every shoot, spending his time on set crying, kicking, and screaming. Not to mention he was also starving himself to enhance the ‘druggy’ look on his features. After those eight weeks they had to transition into the part of Cherry’s life where he’s falling in love with Emily. The transition from being an addict to becoming a lovesick college student was a tricky one for Tom. The sudden switch in the film’s dynamic, made Tom doubt himself. From the intense scenes and screaming to being all loving and sweet, he was self-conscious that he was not doing enough. Though you were quick to debunk his doubts. You kept your promise of being there for him and gave him the freedom to be vulnerable. You didn’t judge him, you listened to him ramble and understood the struggles he was facing. Because of this, you helped him through the transition of druggy to lovesick college student. 

It wasn’t hard to act like he was falling in love you. You have been so supportive and patient with him during the previous weeks that he’s grown to adore you. On and off set you made sure he knew you were not only his co-worker but his friend. When he had a rough day, you were there to pick him up. Or that one time when he had a bit of a panic attack and you were instantly by his side to guide him out of it. There were many reasons as to why you are so dear to him, he could have gone on for days listing them. But overall, it was your lovable nature that lured him in since the very beginning he’s met you.

He felt like Cherry in that one scene you guys shot in the classroom. The one where he’s gazing at Emily and admiring her features. Except you didn’t stare back at him, instead you were having a very animated conversation with your makeup artist and one of the stylists. You were dressed in Emily’s clothes, white stockings, a jean skirt, and that cherry pink jacket with flowers embroidered onto it. He thought you looked so adorable and carefree kicking around leaves with your brown ankle boots and playfully swinging your arms around. Tom felt his lips unconsciously twitch upwards at the sight of you.

Harry, who had been eyeing his older brother, nudged him roughly. Tom whips around to look at him, sending him a glare for rudely interrupting his train of thought.

“What?” Tom hissed.

Harry smirked, motioning to you, “(Y/n) looks really pretty today.” Tom distinctly squints an eye at Harry before looking over his shoulder. The glare for his brother softening once you come into view.

“I mean, doesn’t she always? She’s a beautiful woman.”

“And you’re absolutely whipped.” Harry remarked with a smug grin on his face.

“So I can’t call someone beautiful without being absolutely whipped for them now?” Tom retorted crossing his arms. Harry raised his hands up defensively, “You can mate, chill. I’m just saying that because you’re literally staring at her with a stupid love haze in your eyes.”

“No I’m not.” Tom scoffed, hoping to get his brother off his case. Harry stared at him blankly and rolled his eyes, “Whatever, they want you on your mark.”

The filming location was a secluded park located somewhere in Cleveland. The park was set up to appear as a cemetery, gray gravestones were placed on the ground and gothic statues scattered the place. The scene was supposed to be a meaningful one for Cherry and Emily. Emily was going to be telling Cherry about her abusive father and he was going to tell her he loved her.

Tom sat on the grass and leaned against the stone statue where his mark was located. He looked around his surroundings in curiosity. A few feet away from him was the crew, the Russos, and a tent that sheltered the monitors. He breathed in, wallowing in the crisp air of Cleveland’s autumn weather. It was a bit chilly, but not to the point where you were shivering and left with chattering teeth. The vintage looking jacket he was given and the black beanie on his head was enough to keep him warm. His eyes continued to wander around the park, shifting along the trees and studying the clusters of yellow and orange.

“Hey you.” Your gentle voice breaks through the quiet murmurs of nature and the crew surrounding him. Tom’s eyes instantly set themselves upon your figure, their focus on you and only you. The trees and cameras behind you faded in the background. His gaze followed your figure as you moved to sit beside him.

“Hey.” His voice is soft making you hum in response. Being the gentleman he was, Tom held out his hand to help you sit on the ground. You quietly thank him. He watches as you rest your head against the stone and shut your eyes.

“Still sleepy?” He chuckles nudging your shoulder. You giggle along, lazily nodding. Your eyes open again and he’s met with your stunning (eye color) orbs. They were bright and filled with joy even though you were clearly tired.

You turn your head to the side to face him, “I barely got any sleep last night.”

Tom’s brows drew together in concern, “Why didn’t you get any sleep?”

“I may or may not have watched The Nun by myself last night.” You cringed. Tom let out a dramatic gasp, “Darling, why would you do that to yourself?”

“I was bored and I couldn’t find anything else to watch. I thought watching a horror movie would be a good idea, but I was wrong.” You explained, shaking your head at yourself. You breathed out a laugh, remembering how terrified you were the night before.

Tom joined you, also shaking his head. “Why didn’t you ask Harry and I to join? We could’ve watched it for movie night. Then you wouldn’t have to be alone and you’d have two body guards to protect you from the scary nun.” He teased you poking your side. You squeaked and swatted his finger away.

“You guys were going out for dinner. I thought you might want to have some quality time with your brother.” You stifled a yawn, your nose scrunching after, making Tom pout at your sleepy state. He glanced in front of him to see everyone still occupied in side conversations. The Russos were haunched behind the tent discussing things about the scene.

Tom turns back to you and motions to his lap. You give him a questioning look. You glance at his lap, not completely understanding him. Tom followed your stare, realizing that you were probably getting the wrong message.

“Oh! No—I meant that you could sleep on my lap or something. I don’t think we’re gonna start filming for a few more minutes, so I thought you might want to squeeze in a little nap.” He explained, words jumbling together in panic. Your heart swelled at how sweet Tom was.

The two of you were silent, staring at each other before bursting out in laughter. Tom squeezed his eyes shut, fingers holding his temples, “God, I’m sorry, that was embarrassing.”

You chuckled resting your head on his shoulder, “It’s okay, you had good intentions.” When your laughs die down, you look up at him. “Does your offer for the nap still stand? I think I can use it.”

“Of course it does.” Tom shifts so there’s space on his thigh for you to rest your head on. He helps you lay down, fixing your hair so it’s not in your face. He leaves a hand to play with the strands, mesmerized at how luscious it was. He notices that he’s probably invading your space and pulls his hand away, apologizing.

You make a noise of disagreement, pulling his hand back. “It’s ok, feels nice.” You mumble, eyes closing and a content expression on your face. Tom played with your hair; being careful to not tangle any strands or pull on them too hard. He couldn’t help but study your features. To name a few, he took the time to memorize the way your lashes brushed against your cheeks, the shape of your nose, and the curve of your lips. Your lips. They looked remarkably soft and had a tint of pink to them. Tom found his eyes flickering down at your lips the most than your other features.

He was so caught up in admiring you that he didn’t notice the words coming out of his mouth.

“I’m really happy you’re here.”

Your eyes snap open dancing with amusement. A toothy grin forms on your mouth.

“Did you just quote the movie?” You question him, referring to the previous scene you were both shooting a couple of days ago. Tom becomes flustered, the blood rushing to his fair cheeks.

“Yes, shut up.” He muttered, bouncing his thigh, causing your head to loll to the side. You giggle elbowing his stomach. “Well were you practicing your lines? ‘Cause they’re for the wrong scene, Tommy.” You tease him.

Tom playfully rolls his eyes and looks down at you. His hands were still tangled in your hair, the soft strands like silk in between his fingers. “No, I know that—but I’m serious. I’m really happy you’re here with me. I know I’ve told you this so many times but I can’t imagine filming this movie with anyone else. And you’ve been so loyal and trusting, I feel so comfortable with you. You’ve always had my back and I’m really thankful for that. So thank you for—being you.”

You give him a lopsided grin, “You know, you don’t have to always thank me. We made a promise to always have each other’s back. I’m one to keep my word but at the same time you’re my friend, Tom. I’m not being nice to fulfill a promise, I genuinely care about you.” Tom beams while you continue.

“It honestly goes both ways, I should also be thanking you. The beginning of filming was very taxing and somehow you’ve made it bearable for me to come into work not worrying about losing my shit on everyone. So thank you, Tom.” You finish, reaching out to interlock your fingers with his free hand.

Tom sighs happily, “I guess we’re just happy to have each other, huh?”

“Yeah.” You agree, eyes trained on the way his giant hand enveloped yours. A peaceful silence lays upon the both of you. The melody of birds chirping and the sound of Tom’s breathing fill the air as you drift off to sleep.

Bonus:

Tom feels your hand loosen in his grip, your interlocked fingers resting on your stomach. He felt your stomach steadily raising up and down to the pace of your breathing. His hands remained where they were; one playing with your hair and the other holding one of your hands.

Joe approaches the both of you, gesturing to the position you and Tom were in. Though you were unaware, napping on Tom’s lap.

“Is this how you guys want to film the scene? We were gonna have you sitting beside each other instead.” Joe stood above you and Tom with his hands on his hips.

“I think this is actually better—don’t get me wrong, sitting beside each other and cuddling is pretty affectionate. But I think having someone rest their head on your lap is another level of intimacy.” Tom reasoned. He wanted to extend the amount of time you could ‘nap’ but he also thought the scene would be much better if your head was cradled on his lap. Personally, he believed it would show the audience how comfortable Cherry and Emily were with each other.

Joe nods his head, “Yeah, I get what you mean. I think I like that better, to be honest. What do you think, (Y/n)? Is Tom’s lap comfortable enough for you to shoot a few scenes on?” Joe asks, teasing you towards the end. He’s met with no response. He raises a brow at you, “Is she asleep?”

“Yup, long night.” Tom chuckled, running his hand through your hair soothingly.

Joe chuckles as well, “Is she all good though?”

“Oh, she’s fine. She just watched The Nun by herself and couldn’t catch any sleep after.” Tom reassured him.

“Ahh, alright.” Joe snickers, moving to make his way back to the crew. “She’s got a good 10 to 15 minutes to squeeze in a nap, monitors are acting up.”

“Gotcha’ boss.” Tom mentally notes, resuming to bask in the nature around him and your presence.

Tags:

Tom Holland Taglist

↪︎ @lovableparker @aprettyfleur @sunwardsss @dummiesshort @thotforcriminalminds @cuddlykoala101 @itstaskeen @whoslili @white-wolf1940 @tomsirishgirlx @roseke @kaylans-imagines @spideyspeaches @xxstrangegirlxxx @slutforsebstan

General Taglist

↪︎ @quxxnxfhxll @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @thegirlwiththediary @agustdowney

[lingthusiasm]

Transcript Lingthusiasm Episode 54: How linguists figure out the grammar of a language

This is a transcript for Lingthusiasm Episode 54: How linguists figure out the grammar of a language. It’s been lightly edited for readability. Listen to the episode here or wherever you get your podcasts. Links to studies mentioned and further reading can be found on the Episode 54 show notes page.

[Music]

Gretchen: Welcome to Lingthusiasm, a podcast that’s enthusiastic about linguistics! I’m Gretchen McCulloch.

Lauren: I’m Lauren Gawne. Today we’re getting enthusiastic about how grammars come into existence. But first, we are doing a liveshow in April. We will be doing a liveshow recording on the internet so that we can all be in the same place at the same time on Saturday the 24th of April, Eastern Daylight Savings Time in North America, which will be early on a Sunday morning for us here Australia.

Gretchen: That’ll be 6:00 p.m. for me on Eastern Daylight Time. We will include a link to a time zone converter so you can figure out when that is for you.

Lauren: We’ll be doing the whole show about backchanneling, which is all those ways that you –

Gretchen: Mm-hmm.

Lauren: – actively listen to someone as they’re talking. Thank you for that excellent backchanneling, Gretchen. Something I think a lot about in our era of lots of video calls and online chats.

Gretchen: You can’t see me, but I’m doing a thumbs up right now.

Lauren: Excellent backchanneling.

Gretchen: These are some kinds of backchanneling. We’re gonna be talking about lots more. I think it’s fun to do a liveshow about backchanneling because it means that you get to backchannel in the chat while the show’s going on and chat with each other. That’ll be fun. We’re running the ticketing of the show through Patreon. If you’re a patron, you’ll automatically get a link to the liveshow to join. If you’d like to become a patron, you can also do that to get access to the liveshow stream.

Lauren: Patrons also get access to our recent bonus episode on reduplication as well as 48 other bonus episodes because we have almost 50 now.

Gretchen: That’s a lot! Lots of Lingthusiasm for patrons, which helps keep the show running.

Lauren: Our liveshow is part of LingFest, while will be taking place across the last week of April, which is an online series of events about linguistics. You can find out more about LingFest at lingcomm.org/lingfest.

Gretchen: That’s “comm” with two Ms as in “communication.” Speaking of LingComm, if you’re interested in communicating linguistics to broader audiences, you can also join the LingComm conference, which is a conference for practitioners of linguistics communication such as ourselves and many other cool LingCommers to learn from each other and help produce more interesting and engaging materials for all of you.

Lauren: LingComm, the conference, is taking place online the week of April the 19th.

Gretchen: You can also go to lingcomm.org/conference to see the schedule and other details there.

Lauren: That’s “comm” with two Ms.

[Music]

Gretchen: Lauren, how many people would you say you know who have written a grammar of a language?

Lauren: Hmm, okay, well, both my PhD supervisors. I’d say half the people in the department that I current work in. I have written a grammar of a language. This is a perfectly common activity among my professional cohort. I assume it’s a thing most people do and know about, so we don’t really have to explain it for this episode at all. This is fine.

Gretchen: [Laughs] Yeah, I would say that at least several of the people that I went to grad school with – not necessarily at my university – people I knew from conferences, professors that I knew – one professor I knew had her grammar come out the same year that her baby came out, and she posted a photo of the grammar and the baby, which were about the same size, on Facebook after that happened. It was really cute.

Lauren: Grammars definitely take longer than nine months to gestate. I can definitely confirm that.

Gretchen: I have not written a grammar. So, when someone’s going about writing a grammar, what – okay, here’s a language. There isn’t a grammar written or the grammar that’s written of it is not adequate. What do I do to start?

Lauren: What you’re talking about is taking all of the amazing complexity of how humans use language and finding the rules that reoccur within a particular language and then finding a way of articulating that concisely in written form in a grammar so that, by the end, you’ve worked through most of the common features you find in this language – all of the variations and irregularities – and you’ve put that into some kind of readable book format for other people to then learn about how the grammar of this language works. That is the overarching aim of this endeavour.

Gretchen: I’ve consulted grammars in the process of doing linguistics. I have the Cambridge Grammar of the English Language sitting on my desk. When I was in grad school, I spent a lot of time consulting Valentine (2001)’s grammar of Nishnaabemwin. There are grammars that I’ve consulted. They’re 1,000 pages, 2,000 pages long. Sometimes you’ve got a really massive grammar. Sometimes you get a shorter sketch grammar. They have certain similarities in the structure and the types of things that people cover in a grammar.

Lauren: Absolutely. You tend to start, traditionally, with smaller bits and work upwards. You’re likely to find a description, if it’s a spoken language, of the sound system or, if it’s a signed language, of the hand shape and body space phonology at the beginning of the book and then work up to word-level – you probably expect if a language has adjectives, a section on adjectives, which we’ve talked about before.

Gretchen: We have talked a little bit about adjectives.

Lauren: And then if you’re look at sentence-level stuff, like asking a question, how you do that, it happens at the level of the sentence, that tends to be more towards the end. You’re going from smaller bits up to bigger bits. It really depends on the tradition. We talked about lumpers and splitters before. If you like to split things down, a grammar is great because you can have so many sub-headings. I remember reading the rules for one set of grammars where it was like, “Please do not go beyond five layers of headings,” and I was like, “That’s actually quite a challenge.”

Gretchen: Because you have your chapter level headings, and then you’re like, “Oh, okay, if this chapter’s about verbs, you’ve got this type of verbs and those type of verbs – within the transitive verbs, you’ve got this type of verbs and those type of verbs,” and so on and so forth.

Lauren: Then you’ve got the irregularities. They might need their own subset. You can go from – the table of contents, you can get this big picture and then go down and down and down into the different sections. The grammar that I wrote of Lamjung Yolmo was a sketch grammar, so it’s only a couple of hundred pages. It makes sure to knock over – it would be very weird to have nothing about nouns in a language that very obviously has nouns – but it doesn’t go into the deep level of detail on some things that a longer grammar gets to. There’s always more to be done as well.

Gretchen: Any grammar is gonna be incomplete – even these massive doorstop-sized grammars. You’re gonna leave some stuff out where you’re a speaker and you’re like, “I know this,” but you don’t necessarily include it in a grammar. I’ve also read, in grad school – I don’t remember what language it was of – but I picked up this grammar that was written in, like, I wanna say maybe the 70s or 80s. There was clearly some sort of fad for doing this very abstract schematic thing of sentences or verbs or something. It didn’t have any complete sentences or complete verbs just written there. It drew them all on this diagram that I have never encountered before or since where everything was piece-able together. I was like, “Oh, wow. You’re participating in some sort of grammatical tradition that I’m just not aware of here.”

Lauren: I mean, I think the important thing is that grammars are written by humans, and humans are trained by other humans within particular traditions. I remember when I was building my sketch grammar, it was while I was also working on my thesis because I was looking specifically at evidentials, but you can’t know what’s happening with evidentiality without understanding how verbs work and how verbs relate to other parts of the sentence. And then I realised I was accidentally on my way to writing out the bones of the grammar of Lamjung Yolmo.

Gretchen: Sometimes you just accidentally write a grammar.

Lauren: That is how I accidentally started and very deliberately finished writing that sketch grammar. But I remember talking to my supervisors. One of them found it quite unusual that I wanted to include the methodology in my grammar. I wanted to explain specifically who I’d worked with, what I’d recorded, what kinds of elicitation I’d used. That wasn’t in that supervisor’s grammar tradition, but it was something I wanted to include.

Gretchen: A lot of grammars aren’t gonna include the gestures of the language or something, which I know is one of your things that you enjoy.

Lauren: Yes. There are traditions that do focus more on narrative structure, and you might find more about the structure of narratives in a grammar, and others that focus more on verb structure. There’s a very brief few pages on phonetics and then a really massive chapter on verbs. It’s sometimes because the language has lots of really fun, complex things happening with the verbs, but sometimes it’s just because that’s what that person was interested in.

Gretchen: This person was a verb fan.

Lauren: Yeah.

Gretchen: Some parts, you know, it’d be pretty hard to do a grammar without doing some level of phonology at the beginning. But, yeah, what level of pragmatic stuff at the end, discourse stuff, or like, “How do people of this language talk to children?” or something like that – that might not be in a grammar.

Lauren: I’m doing a paper with a colleague on onomatopoeia at the moment. Some grammars will have a separate section on that. Because it’s not as central to every single sentence as, say, nouns and verbs can be for a lot of languages, it doesn’t tend to crop up as its own specific subsection in a lot of grammars.

Gretchen: Which doesn’t necessarily mean that language doesn’t have onomatopoeia. It’s just that it didn’t get the focused attention that got put there.

Lauren: This is always the question that you have while reading a grammar, right. It’s about what makes it in, but it’s also what doesn’t. Sometimes things don’t make it in because of trends or because of what people are focusing on or sometimes just because they’re important but incredibly low-frequency things that happen. Or if someone is doing fieldwork, and they come into a community as a man, they might spend a lot of time around other men and recording a particular variety. That’s where the methodology was really important for me to make clear why I was making choices. Also, the title of a grammar – I find it really interesting whether people say, “The Grammar of” or “A Grammar of.” I, very consciously, called it, “A Grammar” or “A Sketch Grammar of Lamjung Yolmo” because this is just my analysis and my take. Other people might come to exactly the same data with different conclusions. Or they might be way more into adjectives than I am, and that section is way more fleshed out in someone else’s analysis.

Gretchen: That’s an interesting side effect, as you were saying about, okay, well, if we wanna look at onomatopoeia in a bunch of languages, or if you wanna look at any sort of thing whether it’s verbs or sounds or handshapes or something in a bunch of different languages, okay, how can – if you’re making those beautiful graphs like are in the WALS database, which we’ve mentioned before, or if you’re gonna write a Wikipedia article about like, “Here’s how this language works,” or “Here’s how this phenomenon works,” the grammars turn into this input material of what gets cited there.

Lauren: Those big overviews are often built up from these grammars of different languages. That’s where having structures that are easy for people to access in the table of contents becomes really easy because, just as a human writing the grammar, there’s another human reading that grammar to put into those databases.

Gretchen: Dictionaries are often a very collaborative project where you have a bunch of people contributing words or contributing entries. You can say, “Okay, you need to take care of the letter P and see what’s going on here.” But a grammar is often written by one person, and so it reflects that one person.

Lauren: Almost, like the very overwhelming majority of the time, it’s people who aren’t members of that community. It’s a linguist who’s trained as a linguist and then come into this community and often built incredibly long-term, deep relationships with those communities and speak the language but not always. I know I’m kind of – it’s very easy to over-problematise something you do and spend a lot of time thinking about but, again, it’s worth remembering while reading a grammar.

Gretchen: Right. And what types of things you think are interesting, what types of things you think are novel or worth drawing attention to, or what types of things you think are common is a function of what you’ve been exposed to from a grammatical tradition. I’ve been thinking a lot about this question of “What do we put in a grammar” and “How is a grammar constructed by the societal context in which it’s written” because I’ve been reading this book called, Grammar West to East, by Edward McDonald. The subtitle is “The Investigation of Linguistic Meaning in European and Chinese Traditions.”

Lauren: Cool.

Gretchen: I will say, at the beginning, this is an academic book. It is a monograph. If you don’t have a background in linguistics, you’ll find it fairly dense going, potentially. But, as someone who does, it’s really interesting.

Lauren: Awesome! Pick out the anecdotes for us.

Gretchen: One of the first observations that it makes – and, when you think about this, it’s totally true – is that – so the European grammatical tradition is based on Latin and Greek. Latin and Greek are languages where you do a lot of changing the endings on words – sometimes the prefixes, but often the endings – on words to make them do grammatical things. The European grammatical tradition is a lot about making tables of all of the different ways that a word can inflect and being like, “Well, it does this and it does this,” and giving names to the different sorts of groupings and patterns that you find out of that.

Lauren: Which is great, but doing those things, it makes it a little bit confusing sometimes when you apply it to a language like English that doesn’t have the same ending changes, but we give them the same labels. That’s because the analysis of English is very much in that Latin tradition.

Gretchen: It’s inherited from the Latin tradition. There’s a pedagogical motivation for some of this because Latin and Greek were not just the languages that started out analysing themselves, although they were that as well, but they were also considered prestigious languages that you needed to learn. So, a lot of the grammatical analysis of Greek and especially Latin were in terms of how to teach them to speakers of other European languages. And it’s like, “Here’s a bunch of endings, and you need to learn them, and you need to learn what they correspond to and what their function is.”

Lauren: Right.

Gretchen: What’s interesting is that the grammar of Chinese is different from that. They don’t do endings. What they do instead is you have things that have a grammatical function, but they’re considered to have the same status as full words. And so, the Chinese grammatical tradition is concerned with looking at those particles that have grammatical functions but are hard to write definitions of and cataloguing them and figuring out what’s going on with them and grouping them into groups. There are some words in the European tradition that are invariant – they’re often all lumped together in “adjectives” – words like “often,” or “always,” or something like that, which are – they just look like that all the time. They don’t have endings like the verbs and the nouns do. The Latin tradition grammarians didn’t care about those words, and they were really into the endings. The Chinese grammarians were really interested in, first of all, this fundamental duality between words that had a meaning to them, had what they called, “full words,” and words that were only for their grammatical function, what they called, “empty words.”

Lauren: That is a great metaphor. I like it.

Gretchen: Also, because culturally they were really interested in dualities, you know, the sun and the moon, and the full words and the empty words, and having a nice, mirrored duality was really appealing to them for aesthetic reasons in the same way that the European grammatical tradition is often descended from the rhetorical tradition because they were really interested in the aesthetics of rhetoric when it came to doing that sort of analysis. What your culture’s into aesthetically brings forth, okay, what are we trying to explain this. So, both of these are sort of ancient history, you know. Around 2,000 years ago they were the beginnings of this doing their own analysis grammatical traditions. You get this really interesting descriptive grammar that was published in 1898 by China’s first grammarian, Ma Jianzhong, called, Mr Ma’s Compleat Grammar, which I think is great.

Lauren: That is an excellent late-1800s name of a book.

Gretchen: It is exactly of a particular era. It’s “compleat,” E-A-T, not E-T-E, which is just –

Lauren: Perfect.

Gretchen: He was a native speaker of Chinese who had also been educated by Jesuits in French, and so he had exposure to both the French and the Chinese grammatical traditions. He writes this grammar where he distinguishes between full and empty words the way that the Chinese had – introduced these particles to be these “empty words” – but he also further subdivides the full words into the lexical categories that Europeans had been doing, which are verbs and nouns and so on. This distinction between verbs and nouns and so on was really important to the Europeans because verbs and nouns have different types of endings. You know whether something’s a verb or a noun because the endings are all different because this is a really endings-based grammatical system. The modern linguistic conception of how languages and their structures work is, to a certain extent, a hybrid of that because these full and empty grammatical categories is now reflected in what linguists call, “content words” and “function words.”

Lauren: Yes.

Gretchen: You have words like, “dog,” and “cat,” and “run,” and “see,” and stuff like that where you can actually write a definition, and then you have your grammatical words like “of,” and “is,” and “to,” and stuff, which just have this grammatical function. So, this category that’s still really relevant in modern linguistics is there in one country’s grammatical tradition, but also modern linguistics does also still talk about “nouns” and “verbs.”

Lauren: Absolutely.

Gretchen: The history of the contact between these two grammatical traditions and how they figured out how to adapt things to each other is an interesting way of looking at what is it that we think of as important when we’re trying to write a grammar of a particular language or we’re trying to do grammar. A lot of ancient grammar traditions were really concerned with describing one very prestigious, golden-age language – or one or two – you’ve gotta write your grammar of Latin or of Greek or of Old Chinese because that’s the one everyone thinks is fancy. And the local vernacular that ordinary peoples talk, like, no, no one’s gonna write a grammar of that. It’s a very interesting way of thinking about, okay, what were people concerned about and how did those interests derive from the structure of the language or languages that they were familiar with.

Lauren: This book sounds so great, but I wonder if actually the title of it should be, “Grammars from East to West,” because if we look where our modern tradition of writing grammars in Europe is, it’s very much motivated by those Latin grammars and grammarians of old, but it’s also very influenced by Paṇini and the Sanskrit grammarian tradition that is two-and-a-half, three thousand years old as well.

Gretchen: One of the things that I was thinking about reading this, being like, “Wow!” – I knew some of the stuff about the European tradition, not all of it, but I didn’t know most of the stuff about ancient China – thinking, “I know that there was a really interesting grammatical tradition going on in India, like, right between these two major geographical regions.” There’s a bunch of stuff going on in Arabic as well, at a slightly later time. Can I have a book that writes about all four of these, please, in comparison to each other?

Lauren: Yeah. I know very little about the Arabic tradition. Most linguists at least know the name “Paṇini” That first N has a little dot under it in English, so it has a kind of palatalised vibe, but it also means his name is great. I know more than one university that has the “Paṇini Café and Sandwich Shop” because that’s a great multilingual pun to use.

Gretchen: Who can resist a pun? I learned a bit about the Arabic grammatical tradition when I was taking a bit of Arabic in undergrad. There are a whole bunch of things that that grammatical tradition does also in the tradition of “We’re going to look at our language and catalogue it in exhaustive detail and figure out exactly what’s going on in it.” One of the things that I remember was that there’s an exhaustive catalysation of what they call the “binyan,” which are the templates that you can slot your three-consonant roots into, and how you put the vowels in between them that mean all of these different things.

Lauren: Because Arabic is very interested in what happens in shifting the vowels of the language rather than what happens at the end of a word like the Latin tradition.

Gretchen: It’s very relevant in Arabic all of the different things you can do with the vowels in between them and whether, maybe, you double a consonant in a particular context or you put this vowel here or that vowel there. The classic tri-consonantal root that everybody cites is K-T-B, /k/-/t/-/b/, which has to do with books and writing. “Kitab” is “a book,” and “kutub” is “books,” and “maktab is “office,” and “kataba” is “He writes.” You can do all sorts of things with those three consonants and how you arrange the vowels between them. There’s an abstract way of representing “Here’s what the patterns are” with a template verb that you can show all the patterns with and going through and exhaustively cataloguing the patterns. This is the exciting thing to do if you’re an ancient Arabic grammarian. I’m excited by just thinking about it. But that’s very much influenced by the structure of the language. I don’t know as much about what Paṇini was doing except for the fact that he gets cited in a lot of Intro Linguistics classes as the first grammarian.

Lauren: Part of why he gets cited a lot is because he’s excellent. I’ll talk about that. I think part of why as well is that Paṇini synthesized and brought together everything that had been happening in the Sanskrit grammar tradition. Sanskrit is kind of like the Indian linguistic area equivalent of Latin, which is that it was the language of sacred texts and religion. It’s a language that is still handed down. People still learn Sanskrit in the way they learn Latin. But in that area, languages like Hindi and Nepali, the Indo-Aryan languages, are all later siblings and children of Sanskrit. It’s a very convenient analogy to Latin to draw with Sanskrit. I think, also, the motivation for thinking a lot about the language came from a theological attempt within Hinduism to understand truth through language and understand how language works. It was one of the core areas of study within the larger religious tradition. So, that was the motivation. But Paṇini – we know his name. We know not too much else about him except that he wrote at least two-and-a-half thousand years ago. He synthesized this work, and he name drops ten other people whose work he draws on. We’ve lost the record of all of their work. I think he’s excellent. That’s not in dispute. But it’s also just a convenient prominence he receives through being the kind of earliest record we have when the work was going on for thousands of years behand.

Gretchen: The person whose manuscript survives with his name attached to it.

Lauren: Absolutely. A very convenient way to appear to be very excellent is just to have none of the foundational work you draw on exist still.

Gretchen: No. This is like the Library of Alexandria all over again.

Lauren: What made Paṇini’s approach really distinct – and distinct from what was happening with those learner-driven motivations for analysing Latin – is that there was a logical progress to how he set out his description of Sanskrit. Similar to what we talked about with modern grammars where you start with the base elements of the sound system and then build up to words and parts of words. If something goes on a word after another bit, so you’ll describe the earlier bits first and build outwards. It’s this logical order and progression.

Gretchen: In a very real sense, the order that Paṇini devised over 2,500 years ago is reflected in the order of the grammar that you wrote a few years ago?

Lauren: It’s absolutely not an accident. The early 20th Century linguists like Saussure, Franz Bopp, where directly reading Paṇini and going, “This guy was doing this stuff thousands of years before we started thinking about it” and were directly influenced by Paṇini’s approach to thinking about how the language worked and thinking about it very descriptively. This is why he’s known as the first grammarian within even the Western tradition because he was like, “Look, there’s these words and they have these histories, but actually, the important thing is that we think about how the words are being used by people now.” The funny thing is he wrote that about what we now think of as Classic Sanskrit. People have not moved on from thinking about Classical Sanskrit in that way, and it’s become a learning tool, but –

Gretchen: We should all just be speaking Classical Sanskrit.

Lauren: The motivation is exactly the same motivation we use in a descriptive grammar now. It’s not about setting out the rules of a language and how it has to work, it reflects how a linguist has analysed that people are using that system.

Gretchen: I think that’s one of the things that comes up when we talk about a grammar is, particularly because grammar in the Western tradition is associated with Latin, and, okay, you’re learning about the grammar of English only so that you can translation Latin into English better rather than learning about the grammar of English as an object of its own study. This translates into, “Okay, well, what if we made the grammar of English more like Latin because that would obviously be better.” That’s where this secondary meaning of “grammar” as, you know, “Thou shalt not split an infinitive,” does – because in Latin an infinitive is all just one word. You can’t split it. It’s just one word.

Lauren: You can’t split it.

Gretchen: This idea that grammar is a tool to beat people over the head with comes from this, “Well, you’ve got to learn this language in school because this is how you’re gonna access all these classical texts that you are supposed to access, and you need to do it a certain way because it’s dead now, and it’s not evolving, and so you’re just learning to do this very particular thing,” that’s where this additional connotation of grammar as a stick to beat people over the head with comes in.

Lauren: That’s that very Latin tradition that we still have.

Gretchen: And it’s not only English that had a grammar as a tool to stay in touch with a lost golden age. This is also what they were doing in ancient Chinese of like, here’s this older thing. One of the other interesting things that I learned about the Chinese grammatical tradition, in particular with the writing system – because the writing system in Chinese can obscure different pronunciations – you could have a poem that you could still read in the written sense that’s very old but, for a modern reader, it doesn’t necessarily rhyme. At a certain point, when they were doing more historical linguistics, they realised, “Oh, this poem actually rhymed back in the day.” The pronunciation has changed so much that we weren’t really thinking about it because the characters look the same, but it actually used to rhyme, which sometimes shows up when you’re reading Shakespeare or something, and it’s got “thrown” and “drown” or something. Like, “Wait, those probably were supposed to rhyme based on where they are in this poem.” You can use that to reconstruct what was going on.

Lauren: It can feel a bit anxiety-provoking about committing an analysis to paper because you are pinning a butterfly for a moment in time. People are still speaking the language, and it moves on. As long as you don’t think of the descriptive grammar as anything more canonical and authoritative than people’s actual intuitions, that’s an important thing to remember. Especially if you’re working with a grammar that’s more than a few generations old, it may be that the person didn’t quite capture what people were doing. It may be that the language has changed again.

Gretchen: Another thing that I found really interesting about “What are the ideas that people were thinking about at the time” – so this is from Grammar West to East again. The author points out that when Chinese characters first became known in Europe, it was late 16th Century and, in Europe, for unrelated reasons, the idea of a universal language was the hot philosophical topic. You had people like John Wilkins, who ultimately created Roget’s Thesaurus, but he was really just trying to make a universal taxonomy for understanding the world, he ended up making quite a nice thesaurus but not with making a universal way of understanding the world. What was actually going on in China at the time was that Classical Chinese was a scholarly and diplomatic lingua franca of the East Asian region. It was acquired as a learned language in the different parts of those regions. The Chinese words were given a local pronunciation. So, children in different parts of China would learn to read using a literary register of the local dialect, and there wasn’t the idea of a standard spoken language for the whole country. That’s a modern innovation. This is a situation that was a lot like Latin in Europe at the time. But Europe, you know, “Oh, you learn Latin in school so that you can do the literary thing.” But European scholars misunderstood the situation and thought that this meant that Chinese characters were interpretable by speakers of any language without them being based on one language, even though they were very much based on an ancestral language of the region.

Lauren: Oh dear. And their obsession with universality that they came to this very functional but still based on a language thing. Oh dear. I see exactly where this is going. That’s not good.

Gretchen: Also, they did the same thing with the Egyptian hieroglyphs, which had not yet been deciphered yet. They were like, “Guys, we found it! We found the universal language of ideas, and it’s not tied to a particular language!”

Lauren: Not translated adds an extra air of mystery.

Gretchen: European scholars thought this was great. Francis Bacon thought this was amazing. It’s interesting to see not just, okay, here’s this thing that was going on in China at the time, which is interesting, but also, here’s how these things get reflected and refracted, whether that’s the Europeans approaching Chinese grammar as maybe this is a thing that’s universal or this Chinese grammarian, Mr Ma, looking at it and saying, “Okay, how can I merge these two grammatical traditions of the full words versus the empty words?”, and then also “What if I have nouns and adjectives and stuff?”, and “How could I group them in ways that make sense for the grammar of the language?” Everyone’s bringing their own preconceived notions to this space.

Lauren: I think the descriptive grammar has really figured itself out as a genre in the 20th Century. A lot of the discussion around how to make sure people aren’t just bringing themselves to it has been to widen the scope of what gets included. One really big influence has been the idea that you need to have the grammar, but it has to be presented alongside the wordlists because the grammar just tells you the rules not which words go in which places and also a collection of texts that are broken down and translated so that people can access what’s happening in narratives. That solves a little bit of that what gets included problem.

Gretchen: Because somebody could always go back and look at the text again and say, “Well, what if I interpreted them differently or wrote this grammar differently based on what I can see here in this longer thing?”

Lauren: Yeah. “The author didn’t get around to a section on the use of particles in narratives, but there’s enough texts here I can see what’s happening.” This little trio of publications is sometimes known as the “Boasian trinity,” which sounds a little bit more pompous and religious than it actually is, but it’s part of this expanding what gets included.

Gretchen: This is after Boas, whose first name I have forgotten.

Lauren: Franz Boas.

Gretchen: Franz? Franz Boas. He was one of the early grammarians in this descriptive and comparative tradition where it’s not just, okay, every intellectual in this one country or this one society is devoting themselves to this one language but, “Oh, what if we looked at lots of languages? What if we compared them?” This goes along with the colonial project of like, “What if we went and conquered some people?”

Lauren: Yes, there’s a lot of scientific rationalism happening here.

Gretchen: This is not entirely unproblematic either. It is interesting how the forms of the grammars start shifting when it stops being this sort of seeking this one language of like, “Oh, everything descends from Greek” or “Everything descends from Sanskrit.” Even the Europeans, at a certain point, when they encountered Sanskrit, were like, “Oh, everything must descend from Sanskrit,” and said, “Okay, well, what if we realised that we can’t actually know what the first language was? This is lost in the midst of time,” and figured out “What can we know about relationships and what is the possibility space for what are different things that languages do?”

Lauren: I mean, I think it’s also worth pointing out a lot of 20th Century language description has happened to try and translate religious texts and political documents and that is a subset of problematic colonisation within the grammatical tradition.

Gretchen: The longest text that’s been written down in a lot of languages is the Bible, which has all sorts of really weird consequences when you start using those parallel texts as the input for something like machine translation because you can have machine translation systems start spitting out things that sound like religious prophecies because they’re just regurgitation versions of that Bible input, which is pretty weird.

Lauren: Such a weird consequence of a weird set of earlier decisions.

Gretchen: Exactly. Here was this earlier decision that maybe this was even a religious text that was created 100 years ago by some missionary, but it’s the longest text that’s available in this language, and the grammar is more or less accurate – and yet. It wasn’t trying to record the stories and the oral histories of the people who actually spoke that language that they cared about themselves, it was trying to introduce this foreign religion to them.

Lauren: Again, it’s one of those things that is hard to avoid and so it’s just important to be aware of when you’re looking at some grammars. They may have a lot of Christian religious texts. It doesn’t necessarily reflect the religion of the speakers so much as the religion of the person doing the documentation.

Gretchen: Going back to that theme of grammars that are made by people and sometimes people’s agendas for making a grammar is –

Lauren: A different endpoint.

Gretchen: It’s less about like, “Oh, I want to help this language be taught in schools and support its speakers in their own goals” and more “I wanna impose my goals on the speakers.”

Lauren: I think another important change that has happened across the 20th Century in terms of grammars is the increasing availability of recording equipment and, therefore, the ability to make recordings of the language as a fourth part of that three-part collection of what’s important when documenting a language.

Gretchen: There are some really interesting ancient recording technologies like the wax cylinders that were used –

Lauren: You say, “ancient,” but you mean, like, 150 years ago.

Gretchen: Yeah, not ancient compared to Paṇini.

Lauren: Not Paṇini ancient, just, it’s really that the story of the 20th Century descriptive tradition is the story of embracing these recording methods.

Gretchen: There was a really cool thing where they had these old, cracked wax cylinders, I think it was in the Smithsonian, and they couldn’t put them on a machine to read them because, obviously, the needle would stumble over the cracks. It’s kind of like a record.

Lauren: They just fall apart.

Gretchen: Picture it as a tall record with all the lines tall rather than a flat record. But it was cracked, so they couldn’t put it in the thing, and they eventually figured out a way with lasers to read the recordings. I got to hear, you know, here’s a song in this language that hasn’t been heard for 100 years because the cylinder cracked. If it’s online, I’ll try to find a link to it.

Lauren: With recording technology, early on, and even for some linguists, it’s mostly about doing recordings so you can go back and listen yourself and really identify that you’re correctly analysing structures. But I think the more exciting thing is that it lets you really observe more people using language in more natural ways. The “Can you say this?”, “Can you say that?”, “Does that sound grammatical?” way of eliciting stuff can lead to an unusual way of approaching the language, but really drawing on people singing songs and telling stories not only makes for a richer, more realistic grammatical description that allows you to see those fuzzier, more complicated bits of language, but it also means that you can make those recordings available for speakers who are interested in going back to an oral history of the language for people who might come in the future and go, “Ah, you didn’t look at the way people’s prosody goes up and down and their intonation changes in stories. I’m gonna look at that, and I have access to these recordings.” I think this is where grammars are more exciting as we integrate more of that richness of actual language and bringing the people who speak the language back into real prominence within the grammar document.

Gretchen: Yeah. Because there is a certain way of writing a grammar which is very old which just assumes that whatever bits you have about “Here’s how this language works,” that information just exists at this abstract level, and it’s not necessarily tied to particular speakers or particular communities, and saying, “Oh, it would be good to give credit to the speakers who were saying this, or to identify this is a particular way that a language is spoken in a particular region,” or “Here’s something that’s going on here.” There have been some initiatives to do things like pair people who are trying to revitalise their languages with linguists to try to understand what’s going on in some of these older grammars because they can be hard to decipher without the special training. The one that I’m familiar with is Breath of Life.

Lauren: There are the Paper and Talk Workshops in Australia as well where you’re coming full circle and making sure that you give people the tools that they need to access the materials about their own language because you can make grammars for many reasons, and we’ve discussed some of them but, at the end of the day, the most important reason to me is that speakers of a language can access the materials that were created for that language.

Gretchen: I think when we look at the multi-thousand-year-old history of making grammars and the very different sorts of questions that people had about language thousands of years ago, I find it very humbling because we can think about what are the questions that people might be asking in another thousand years, and how can we make things that would help with that?

[Music]

Lauren: For more Lingthusiasm and links to all the things mentioned in this episode, go to lingthusiasm.com. You can listen to us on Apple Podcasts, Google Podcasts, Spotify, SoundCloud, YouTube, or wherever else you get your podcasts. You can follow @Lingthusiasm on Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, and Tumblr. You can get IPA scarves, schwa pins, and other Lingthusiasm merch at lingthusiasm.com/merch. I tweet and blog as Superlinguo.

Gretchen: I can be found at @GretchenAMcC on Twitter, my blog is AllThingsLinguistic.com, and my book about internet language is called Because Internet. Have you listened to all the Lingthusiasm episodes and you wish there were more? You can get access to 49 bonus episodes to listen to right now at patreon.com/lingthusiasm or follow the links from our website. Patrons also get access to our Discord chatroom to talk with other linguistics fans and other rewards, as well as helping keep the show ad-free. Recent bonus topics include reduplication, Q&A with a lexicographer, and a Q&A with the two of us in honour of our 100th episode. Can’t afford to pledge? That’s okay, too. We also really appreciate it if you can recommend Lingthusiasm to anyone who needs a little more linguistics in their life.

Lauren: Our Senior Producer is Claire Gawne, our Editorial Producer is Sarah Dopierala, and our music is “Ancient City” by The Triangles.

Gretchen: Stay lingthusiastic!

[Music]

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.

[taetaespeaches]

“Wait, I’m nervous.”

taehyung x reader (or oc) genre: fluff word count: 1.9K

a/n: Ok, lovelies, here is just pure wholesome fluff with Tae and Peaches. They are in their own little world again, of course, and they are just feeling real in love at this point lol. Very loosely based on ‘invisible string’ by taylor swift. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading! :))

p.s. if you want the playlist Tae makes in this, here you are. 

HIS hands were gorgeous as he dragged the pen across the page, etching lines to form an abstract piece straight from his vibrant mind to the drawing pad. The diner, one you were well acquainted with, was relatively empty, only a few other patrons besides you and your boyfriend as you awaited your best friends’ arrival.

Jimin and his girlfriend were unsurprisingly late, and as you waited, Taehyung suddenly stopped drawing, reaching for his phone that was attached to a set of earbuds from his pocket. Holding the left bud out to you, he positioned the right one into his ear.

“I made you a playlist,” he smiled softly, a tinge of bashfulness evident in his features. Your lips curving up happily, you eagerly put the earbud into place.

“Show me,” you told him in excitement, Taehyung chuckling as he started the first song, ‘Make Out in My Car’ by Moses Sumney and Sufjan Stevens. Your boyfriend leaned over to you, leaving a sweet kiss to your shoulder before sitting back upright, returning to the drawing pad.

As you took in the lyrics, Taehyung continued sketching the simple but interesting image, you watching ever stroke of the ink. The lyrics entering your mind reminded you of the shift in yours and Taehyung’s relationship, as you skirted the lines of friendship and romance, fighting yourselves, trying not to fall in love with each other despite desperately wanting to love one another fully.

I’m not trying to go to bed with you

I just wanna make out in my car

And though I’m dying to fall in love with you

I just wanna make out in my car.

Despite the public setting, as you sat with your boyfriend listening to the music only you two could hear, it felt as though you and Taehyung were sitting in a moment of time separate from reality, isolated from the other patrons and kitchen staff. A space that was made for you.

When Taehyung entered your life, he came unannounced, all his youthful vibrancy interrupting your daily routine and changing everything forever. He was eccentric, radiating an array of colors that everyone saw, and you fell in love with them easily. If someone were to ask you what your favorite color was, you’d reply with whatever color is shining from him today. The inner-child within Taehyung inspired you, reminding you of the little girl inside yourself.

As the days turned into weeks, building up to months and accumulating into years, Taehyung was still by your side. You’d watched each other grow up, make mistakes, achieve goals. It’s not that Taehyung completed you, or you him, but life, within your little world, just seemed a little less worth living without him in it.

The song ending, Frank Ocean’s version of ‘Moon River’ started playing, you resting your head on Tae’s shoulder as you allowed the music to penetrate your heart.

My dream maker, my heartbreaker

Wherever you’re goin’, I’m goin’ the same.

How true that was. The man beside you was the one person who could both make your dreams come true, but held all the power to shatter your heart, but regardless, you were going with him wherever he went.

The song had a slow fade out, providing a nice transition into the next tune, ‘Early’ by Joy Crookes and Jafaris. The lyrics portrayed a relationship that is either doomed or is meant to be and meant to last. Much like how you and Taehyung viewed your relationship. The fear of failing as a unit plagued you for years until you and Taehyung mutually decided to take the risk.

I’m crossing borders of this friendship

You’re turning water into wine

I can’t believe it

Because, what if it works? You recalled asking him that very questioning, both of you choosing to throw caution into the wind, telling yourselves you were destined. You were either going to last forever, or it was going to crumble in front of your eyes, and you were both still aware of the risk that came with giving into your feelings. But you both decided it was worth the risk. He was worth it.

My ride or die

And I cross my heart

This is where we start when you walk my way

Left the baggage on the floor

You want us and we want more

Don’t you know I open door when you walk my way?

Lifting your head from Taehyung’s shoulder, his eyes drifted from the sketch to you, you smiling softly, matching his fond grin. “Is it ok?” He asked.

“The drawing or the playlist?” You asked, bringing your hand to his face to stroke his cheek with your knuckles.

“Uh,” he looked at the drawing for a split second before lifting his eyes to you again. “Both.”

“Both are great, baby,” you complimented. “You know what you’re doing,” you grinned, Taehyung chuckling.

“With the playlist?” He asked knowingly, both of you understanding the storyline of the songs he chose. You nodded, leaning toward Taehyung, the man dropping his head to gently rest his forehead against yours. “I can’t believe it,” he sang along with the song, moving his head a little bit to go along with the groove, you giggling at the cute action.

“Out of all the places I could have been that day,” you commented, Taehyung’s eyebrows raising as he pulled back a bit to allow his eyes to travel your face. “We could have so easily missed each other.”

“That’s crazy to think about,” he let out a breathy chuckle, his eyes falling to your hand that was resting atop his thigh. “I mean, I guess everyone we come across happens by chance, but not everyone ends up meaning so much,” he noted thoughtfully, you smiling at the comment.

As the song came to an end, Bruno Major’s ‘Easily’ starting, Taehyung wrapped his hand gently around your wrist. “If either of us had been walking by there just a few minutes, or maybe even seconds later or earlier, we would have missed each other completely,” your boyfriend realized, setting your hand on the tabletop.

Coming and going

Inside out and back to front

Oh, tangled and messy

That’s how we’ve always been and we’ll always be

And that’s alright with me

Just because it won’t come easily

Doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try.

The song added to the story line, bringing you back to the fights and the jealousy, the falling out and ignoring each other, only to always end up back together. You couldn’t quit each other, and you didn’t want to. Taehyung was the easiest yet most complicated relationship you’d ever had, and he probably always would be.

Bringing the pen to your skin, you watched as Taehyung drew a little heart on the inner edge of your wrist. “You’re cute,” you smiled, Taehyung flashing you his stunning boxy beam. The smile you’d never tire of seeing.

“Don’t look,” he told you as he prepared to add to his drawing. “I mean it,” he smiled wider, you mimicking the expression as you covered your eyes with your free hand.

Anticipating the touch of the pen against your skin, you spread your fingers apart, finding a glaring Taehyung staring at you through the slits between your digits.

“No peeking,” he whined with a giggle, you chuckling as you apologized.

“Ok, I’m sorry, I won’t peek, do your thing,” you told him recovering your eyes.

“I knew you’d do that,” he complained as the pen touched your wrist, moving over your veins.

“I promise I won’t again,” you giggled, Tae letting out a huff of feigned frustration. When ‘Easily’ ended, Ella Fitzgerald’s voice soothed through the earbud, singing ‘In A Sentimental Mood’. Your lips formed into a soft smile at the song, swaying your body gently as Taehyung completed his work on your arm.

“You can look now,” he told you, you tentatively pulling your hand from your face, looking into Tae’s warm brown orbs.

“Yeah?” You asked, not wanting to jump the gun and ruin his surprise. The man immediately turned your hand over so your wrist was against the table, you frowning at him.

“Wait,” he smiled bashfully, “I’m nervous.”

“Nervous?” You asked in surprise, smiling at him. “Why? What did you draw on me?”

Taehyung giggled cutely, his eyes shaped in crescents, his smile wide and boyish, the man looking adorable as ever. “Nothing,” he said with the innocence only your boyfriend could convey.  

“Why are you nervous, Dearest?” You asked again, nearly cooing at how cute he was. Just as you were preparing to turn your wrist over, a knock on the outside of the window next to your booth startled you both, you and Taehyung jumping as your eyes darted to the noise, spotting your best friend standing with Jimin as they waved dorkily at you.

“Jesus,” you huffed, clutching your racing heart, Taehyung immediately letting out a noise of complaint. “I forgot they were even coming,” you commented, Tae letting out a low chuckle at the comment.

The surprise intrusion made you forget the ink on your wrist for a moment until you re-registered the song humming in your ear.

Rose petals seem to fall

It’s all I could dream to call you mine

My heart’s a lighter thing

Since you made this night a thing divine

The lyrics resonated so deeply with how you felt toward Taehyung, you found yourself rotating your arm to view the addition on your wrist, the air leaving your lungs for a moment as your heart skipped a beat, then pounding several times quickly to catch up.

Next to the heart he drew were the words, I’m in love with you.

Taehyung’s lips appeared near your ear, their soft plumpness just barely grazing your skin. “It’s true, Peaches,” he told you, making you turn to face him as Ella Fitzgerald continued to sing to you both, the song coming to a close.

In a sentimental mood

I’m within a world so heavenly

For I never dreamt that you’d

Be loving sentimental me.

Leaning toward Taehyung, you kissed him with intent and passion and love. So much love. It wasn’t the first time he had told you he loved you, or you him, but it was the first I’m in love with you, and it was definitely the first since the terms of your relationship had changed. You were both very careful in skirting around the word “love” since you crossed the line of friendship.

Your hands were on both sides of his face, his gripping your wrists as his thumb brushed over the confession he scribbled on your skin.

“I’m in love with you,” you mumbled against his lips. “I’m so in love with you,” you told him again before falling back into the kiss, though Tae’s widening smile, which caused you to smile, made the kiss a bit harder to maintain.

“Jeez, you two, we’re in a public restaurant,” your friend suddenly spoke as she scooted into the booth, Jimin following behind her. Separating from Tae, you rested the top of your head against his chin, your boyfriend wrapping his arms around your body, holding you to him as he placed a kiss to your hair.

“Whatever, we’re in love,” Taehyung dismissed the girl, Jimin smiling widely at the scene.

In love. You were. And you couldn’t help but be beyond thankful that you decided to take the leap of faith with Taehyung. Because in that moment, it was absolutely the right decision. You were meant to find Tae, and love him with all of you. Your paths weren’t simply meant to cross. They were meant to meet and become one. You had no doubts. And you were in love.

[kissinginkitchens]

You Bring Me Home—Chapter Two: Where the Heart Is

a/n: Thank you so much for all of the love you have shown to part one! I’m so glad to see that you’re enjoying YBMH so far, the story is just getting started. I hope you’ll stick around for the full thing, so without further ado, here’s chapter two! As always, my inbox is open so feel free to come chat with me when you have finished this part :) Much love, Mel <3

Pairing: Hawai'i!Harry x Original Character

Warnings: swearing, mentions of drug use

Word Count: 5.1k

read part one here

The phone screen flickers to life at the touch of Harry’s finger, flashing the exact same time that it had the last time he checked, though it feels like hours have passed since then. He sighs at the disappointing revelation and turns his phone over so that the screen meets the aged wood of the piano where it rests. In all honesty, Harry has no idea why he agreed to the interview in the first place. He had skillfully dodged the hundreds of requests for an exclusive tell-all following the untimely split of One Direction and successfully avoided the prying eyes of the general public for several months. So why had he indulged the first request from a girl he hardly knew without so much as a blink? The answer seemed a frustrating mystery to him, but to anyone else, the fluttering in his stomach when he caught a glimpse of her yellow Ford Bronco pulling up to the studio and the way he instinctively raked a hand through his hair gave the answer away.

“I know I’m late, I’m sorry!” Alani apologizes, emerging from the car with a notebook nestled under her arm and a smoothie in each hand. She closes the door with her hip before making a beeline to the studio entrance where Harry stands, his right shoulder leaning against the doorframe with the same stoic expression Alani recognizes as his signature look.

“I had to get my sister to cover for me at the café and then I got lost because Google sent me to a Napua restaurant instead of the recording studio,” she rambles in an attempted continuation of her apology. “But anyway, this is for you. A peace offering and a thank you for doing this.”

Harry gingerly takes the green smoothie from her outstretched hand and offers a curt nod in response before ushering her inside.Alani pushes her sunglasses up and settles them into her windswept waves, trailing behind Harry and taking in the space. In one corner across the room, she notices a couple of brightly colored tapestries thumbtacked to the wall with a microphone stand perched in the center, all encased behind a screen of plexiglass. The adjacent wall is lined with guitars all standing at attention and glimmering, despite the dim lighting. Harry stops at the doorway of another room with a couch and a coffee table, the floor littered with wires and pieces of crumpled paper. He motions Alani to step inside and then clears his throat, which catches the attention of two other long-haired men chatting with amused expressions on their faces.

“Sorry lads,” Harry crosses his arms with eyes glued to the floor to avoid their questioning stares. “‘Fraid I have to intrude. Can we have this room?” 

One of the men grins behind a full beard,  popping a peanut M&M into his mouth before standing. “Sure thing, boss man. Let’s bounce, Rowland.”

The other man, also bearded but smaller in stature with a thin, pointed nose nods silently. He continues twirling two drumsticks between his fingers and points one of them at Harry in passing. Alani offers polite smiles at the both of them, and a quiet “thank you” falls from her lips as they exit without another word. Harry closes the door behind them and gestures to the couch, which she takes as her cue to sit.

“I like the uniform,” Alani smiles, gesturing to her hair as a comment on the fact that the three men all share similar lengths and styles.

“Thanks,” is all Harry says, taking a seat across from hers and clearly dismissing her attempt at humor.

To pacify the urge to fill the uncomfortable silence, Alani sips her strawberry smoothie and steals a glance through her eyelashes at Harry who is doing the same. She clears her throat after a minute and sets the drink on the table in front of her; a notebook takes its place on her lap.

“Thank you again for doing this, I really appreciate it,” Alani offers while digging through her bag for her phone. “I’m gonna record this on voice notes, just for the sake of quoting you accurately.”

“Sure,” Harry replies, occupying his gaze with the condensation trickling from the cup onto his fading black jeans. 

Dry retorts from everyone else, especially customers, have little effect on the way Alani conducts herself.  But every short comment from Harry, or lack thereof, makes her feel like a bug under a microscope. She settles her phone onto the coffee table and takes a deep breath to calm the trembling that spreads from her chest into her fingers and toes.

“So first, I wanted to ask about your time in Hawai’i. Are you enjoying it so far?” Alani poses the question lightly, hoping to open him up just enough to extract the story that she’s really looking for.

“It’s nice,” Harry nods, finally meeting her expectant stare. When she doesn’t respond for a beat, he clears his throat and adds on to the statement. “Weather’s good,”

Alani musters a half-hearted smile and glances down at the questions on her page. This is going to take for-fucking-ever, she sighs.

“Is that what drew you here—vacation? Getting away?” 

“Yeah, pretty much,”

The row of guitars behind the singer catches her attention suddenly and guides the next question.

“And to write or.. record?”

Harry shifts in his seat, calculating his response carefully. “Both,”

“Solo stuff?”

Alani watches as he takes a slow sip of his smoothie and crosses his legs, an action which tells her that she’s struck a dead end. Or, at the very least, a door that she hasn’t gained his trust to open yet.

“You were with One Direction for half a decade,” She recovers. “Constantly releasing new music and touring. But now you’re here, doing neither, and haven’t done so for almost a year. What is that transition like?” Alani isn’t sure if Harry will answer when she poses the question, but to her surprise he meets her gaze and nods, as if to say that he accepts the inquiry.

“It’s different than anything I’ve ever done, for sure,” he starts slowly. It’d be a lie to say that he hasn’t given the breakup and, subsequently, his future outside of the band much thought. He thinks about it every day, especially his bandmates and their supportive fans. That much he has been able to unpack privately, but the rest of it—the sudden need to escape and write new music— is still something he can’t quite put into words, so he leans into the nostalgia and hopes it’ll suffice.

“Like you said, it’s been non-stop for the past five years, so I guess it is a bit jarring to come to a sudden halt after so much momentum. Obviously, it’s nice to have the time off, but I love putting out music and touring it. I wouldn’t trade that for anything,”

Alani is grateful to have more than a couple of words of material, despite the fact that it doesn’t really answer the question or tell her anything new about the man sitting crossed legged and closed off in front of her. Looking through her notes, Alani selects another question and embarks on a new angle.

“You were really young when all of that began,” she starts, thinking about how she could never have left her family and home at just 16. Hell, she was 22 and still figuring it out. Hopefully, if all things went well with this interview and Rolling Stone, she would finally find the opportunity to do it. “Do you ever think about where you would be if you hadn’t auditioned for X-Factor?”

Harry knows that she’s playing it safe, trying to feel him out and test the buttons she can push. He also knows that he’s being difficult, much more so than usual due to his nerves. So with an unfamiliar pang in his chest, he decides to relent the tiniest bit.

“Well, I’m starting to think maybe I could’ve been a professional surfer,” he offers matter-of-factly which makes Alani flash an amused grin. Harry’s sudden humor makes the room a bit less suffocating for the both of them and she’s grateful for it.

“Surfing, huh? This I have to see.” she  quips back, suddenly trying to picture him ditching the black skinny jeans for a wetsuit.

He nods with a faint smirk. “Maybe you will.” 

Alani meets his gaze with a shy smile of her own and her eyes fall to his lips for a brief second. The almost imperceptible action sends another foreign jolt through Harry’s chest. She opens her mouth to resume questioning when a loud bang startles them both and causes Harry to spin in his seat, looking through the glass window of the sound booth.

“Sorry!” A man with short, blonde hair and a fading tie dye shirt laughs while lifting the tipped over drum cymbals. “Don’t mind us!”

The two men from earlier straggle in behind and poorly conceal their own fits of laughter. Harry flashes his middle finger briefly, mouthing something that Alani can’t see but knows is undoubtedly rude. She suppresses a giggle and sneaks a glance at her phone, which indicates only a few minutes worth of dialogue. When she lifts her head, the door opens and the blonde man peeks his head in.

“Hello,” he greets with an extended hand before entering and taking a seat next to Alani on the couch. “Tom Hull, or Kid Harpoon...or just Tom, whatever you like best,” 

 She accepts his hand eagerly, not missing the way Harry pinches the bridge of his nose in her peripheral vision. “Mahealani Hale, or just Alani. Nice to meet you,”

“Wow, beautiful name,” Tom compliments. “Sorry to interrupt, I didn’t realize you had company, H,”

“She was just—”

“I’m writing about-” The two speak at the same time, making brief eye contact before Harry turns his attention back to Tom.

“Did you need something?” He asks. Tom’s eyes dart between Harry and Alani before he clears his throat and reclines in his seat.

“Just dropping by to see if you wanted to go for lunch...” he trails off, which Alani takes as a cue to start gathering her belongings.

“Kind of busy here,” Harry offers with a glance back at the girl seated awkwardly across from him. “Another time,”

At this, Tom turns to Alani and ignores his friend’s protests. “Alani, do you eat lunch?”

Before responding, she casts an apprehensive glimpse at Harry who has suddenly become very intrigued by the drink in his lap, purposefully avoiding her eyes.

“Uh.. well yeah, but I don’t-”

“Great! Have lunch with us,”

“Mate—” Harry speaks up.

Tom grins, shrugging. “What? You plan on starving the poor girl?”

“I really can’t, but thank you for the offer,” Alani explains with a sheepish smile, standing and slinging her bag over her shoulder. “It was really nice to meet you Tom. And thank you again, Harry, I’ll see you around.”

The musician watches her shuffle out of the sound booth quietly and turns his attention back at Tom, who sits with an incredulous look on his face.

“What the hell’s wrong with you?” He asks, standing. “Go after her, dickhead!”

“It’s not like that she’s-”

“I really don’t give a fuck about your excuses, go!”

Harry scoffs and rolls his eyes, looking out the window as Alani slips through the front door.

She fishes her keys out of her bag and sighs when a familiar voice says her name.

“Alani!” Harry calls from the doorway, shielding his eyes from the afternoon sun. He makes his way down the steps and over to the driver’s side where she  ghosts the key over the ignition. 

“Come have lunch...please?” 

“It’s okay,” she purses her lips together politely. “I don’t wanna get in the way,”

Harry catches his lower lip between his teeth and runs a hand through his hair, choosing his next words thoughtfully. 

“No, you’re not—you won’t,” he starts. “I would really like it if you joined us for lunch, especially since our time got interrupted. Please, let me make it up to you.”

Alani can’t help the way her stomach flips at the words “our time” that fall from his lips and she finds herself nodding in agreement before her mind has had a chance to intervene. 

She makes her way to the passenger seat of the Range Rover parked behind the studio, which she learns is where all of Harry’s entourage keeps their vehicles. A variety of brightly colored vintage cars are neatly parked, and it amuses her that Harry skips all of them, instead going straight for the black SUV with darkly tinted windows. At least he’s consistent,  she smirks. As Alani climbs into the car, she is met by the warmth of Harry’s scent—something woodsy and vanilla— and the fact that she recognizes it makes her heart pound.

“You can connect your phone,” Harry nods to the stereo as he buckles his seatbelt. “To the Bluetooth, I mean, if you’d like.”

 “Really?” she asks, brow raised in mild disbelief.

“Only if you play something good,” he teases with a stony expression, adjusting the sunglasses on the bridge of his nose. Alani takes that as a challenge, scrolling through various playlists as Harry peels away onto the main road. Over the speakers, the beginning of “Don’t Worry Baby” by The Beach Boys surrounds the two of them. 

“Is this to your liking, my liege?” Alani poses in an exaggerated British accent that makes Harry cringe, though the small grin on his face gives away his endearment.

“Yes, but please don’t do that accent ever again,” 

“So you admit it, you’re the one with the accent,” she wiggles her brows, eyes peeling away  from the view out her window to Harry in the driver’s seat.

“If it’ll get you to never do that one again, sure,” “Dunno, love,” she continues, watching the coast shimmer under the afternoon sun. “Think  it kinda suits me,”

Harry shakes his head and checks the rearview mirror to make sure that he hasn’t lost Tom, Mitch, and Jeff in the car trailing behind.

“What’s it like?” Alani questions, studying the perfect slope of his pointed nose and strawberry pout.

“What’s what like?”

“England,”

Harry thinks for a second, recalling his London flat, lunches with his mum and sister, the streets of Trafalgar Square, and Abbey Road. 

“Rainy,” is all he says.

Alani scoffs, which draws  his attention over to where she lounges in his passenger seat, sitting comfortably as if it was exactly where she belonged. “That’s all?”

“What?” He questions, though he knows exactly what she means and is perfectly aware of his own stubbornness.

“Just seems like... I don’t know, such a generic description for a place you consider home,”

Harry mulls her response over, the word “home” especially catching his interest. It’s a strange concept in his mind because while, yes, England is where he has spent the majority of his life and where the people he loves most reside, he has never truly felt connected to just one place. And after spending his formative years traveling the world, who could blame him?

“It’s... safe,” he tries again, attempting to verbalize what he’s feeling. “When I’m there, I mean, I feel safe. Like I don’t have to be anyone or do anything specific, I can just... be. No expectations,”

Alani lets Harry’s words sit between them for a moment, sensing that there is still more he wants to say. When she doesn’t respond after a minute,  he continues in an effort to clarify and fill the lull in the conversation.

“I used to think that London was just a starting point and that if I could make it to LA, it would mean that I had really made it, and I would feel more at home there,” he continues, slow and calculated. “But I dunno... when I’m there it still feels like an extended holiday,  like I’m just buying time until I leave for the next place. London doesn’t feel like that, feels much more constant... so yeah, I guess it is home,” 

As if she had read his mind earlier, Alani adds on. “Not to mention that’s where your family is, I’m assuming,” 

Harry nods, once again thinking of his mum and sister. The image of their beaming faces  brings the shadow of a dimple to his cheek.  “Yeah,”

“What’s your family like?” She continues, truly interested and forgetting for a moment about the article she still has to write.

“Kind of small, I guess. S’really just my sister and my mum, but they’re,” Harry pauses, searching for the right words, “They’re the best. My mum’s probably the kindest woman I’ve ever met. Feel pretty lucky with that one, considering what a pest I was as a child,” he chuckles lightly and it’s a sound that Alani hadn’t heard up to this point, but one she knows she’ll replay in her mind over and over again.

“Gem’s pretty patient too—and brilliant, always the studious one,” he adds finally, a dreamy look on his face that Alani much prefers to the stoic one he always dons. .

“Ah yes, there’s always one,” she nods, catching the quirked brow he offers in response.

“Oh yeah? Are you the one in your family?” 

“I guess so. School just seemed to come easily to me,”

“And what made you want to study journalism?” He questions, stopping to let a woman and her toddler cross.

Alani thinks about it for a moment while twirling a strand of fabric from the hem of her ripped shorts around her finger. 

“I’ve always loved to write, ever since I was really little— like short stories and stuff. And I don’t know, I guess I like the idea of traveling and seeking out a story, too.”

Harry nods understandingly, pulling up to a curb across the street from a restaurant that Alani has frequented. It’s relatively empty at Pineapples for a summer afternoon, though most tourists don’t stray too far from the beaches, so Hilo maintains a healthy local population at all times. The pair climb out of the car and Alani makes her way to the rear where the rest of the group has parked. One of the men from earlier greets her with an outstretched hand while Harry chats with the other two that emerge.

“Hi I’m Jeff, it’s nice to meet you.” He smiles warmly,  pushing his sunglasses into his hair. 

“Alani. It’s nice to meet you, Jeff,”

“Sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to be rude by not saying hi it’s just-”

Alani dismisses his concern with a wave of her hand. “Oh don’t worry about it! I was kind of nervous then, too. I don’t know if he told you, but I’m interviewing Harry,”

“Oh, right! Yeah, he did mention that I think,” Jeff recalls, “Which magazine are you with?”

“None.” Yet, Alani thinks, her mind wandering to the Rolling Stone rejection letter. “It’s for a class, I’m a journalism major. Harry was just being nice and agreed to let me write about his music,”

Jeff nods. “Got it. You know, he’s not normally this serious. Just got a lot on his mind but he’ll loosen up,” he explains quietly just as Alani and Harry’s eyes meet. She quickly averts her gaze back to the kind, bearded man standing before her.

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.” she smiles appreciatively.

“Where’s Jeffrey?” Harry speaks up, catching her attention. She looks back to Jeff, confused, before he shakes his head.

“Other Jeff, his manager.” He explains.

“Probably already inside, he said he’d meet us here.” Mitch pipes up.

With that, the rest of the crew head into the restaurant while Alani stays a few steps behind to follow their lead.

“Y’okay?” Harry asks, shuffling along beside her.

Alani startles slightly at his unexpected presence, but relaxes as their strides fall into sync.

“Yeah, thanks. And thank you for the invite, too.” She offers, the corners of her mouth upturned softly.  Harry responds with a tight-lipped smile of his own and clears his throat before holding the door open for her.

In the far corner of the restaurant near the open balcony, Harry’s manager Jeff waves the group over to the table he saved. Everyone exchanges greetings and settles into their seats, the two at the end facing each other remain open for Alani and Harry.

“Jeff, this is..Mahealani, did I get that right?” Tom gestures to Alani for approval.

She nods and waves. “Yes, but you can just call me Alani,”

“Nice to meet you,” Jeff calls from the other end of the table, glancing over to Harry in search of  an explanation for her presence.

“I’m writing a piece about Harry and his music,” Alani offers. “But I’d love to talk to all of you, if you have a chance.”

Jeff nods, still shooting Harry a knowing look. “Yeah, sure thing.” 

The two Jeffs, Tom, and Mitch engage in their own conversations, mostly inside jokes that go over Alani’s head. Harry watches, silent for most of the interaction and barely engaging the girl seated across from him, though he is overwhelmingly aware of her presence. When the server comes to take their order, warmth floods to Alani’s cheeks.

“Alani, hey!” the tall server greets, flashing a handsome, pearly-white smile. “Long time, no see. You’re looking good as always,”

“Mahalo, David. You look good, as well,” She smiles politely, catching onto the way that Harry sits a little straighter in her peripheral vision. David still pays no regard to the rest of the table, but his gaze momentarily flickers over Harry and sizes him up before returning to Alani.

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t realize you were on a date,” he apologizes, which makes Alani’s eyes bulge  and Mitch snicker beside her. 

“Oh no, we’re not—“

“He’s just—” Alani and Harry speak at the same time, eyes darting to one another before she explains.

“I’m... working on something—an article,” she says, and David nods understandingly.

“Oh...right. Big-shot reporter, I almost forgot,” David teases in a snide way that makes Harry’s blood boil with annoyance. “Anyways, what can I get you all? The usual for you, right Alani?”

She nods curtly while the rest of the group take turns ordering. After the server has gone,  Harry notices a shift in her easy-going demeanor and decides that it’s his turn to break the ice.

“Come here often then?” He poses gently, taking a sip of his lemonade.

Her lips press into a tight line as her eyes wander to the other patrons. “Yeah, kinda,”

“Asshole ex-boyfriend ruined that, I’m guessing?”

Alani lets out an amused breath and shakes her head.

“He’s not my ex. I mean we went out, like, once in high school... and maybe a handful of times in college but that’s it, really,” 

Harry studies the uneasiness in her expression trying, and failing, to understand what she’s holding back.

“Seems like you dodged a bullet,” he confides, leaning in. Alani’s eyes meet his and her pursed lips ease into a small grin, which Harry mirrors with a simper of his own. As he rests his smooth chin in his palm, she notices a large, healing scab along the underside of his forearm, and her brows furrow.

“How’d that happen?” Alani asks.

“He jumped out a window,” Mitch intervenes. “Though to be fair, he was high,”

Harry shoots a deathly glare at Mitch and turns back to Alani. “It was a one-time thing.”

“It was shrooms,” Mitch replies with an amused smirk.

“Hardcore,” Alani giggles lightly. 

Mitch swirls the straw in his mimosa with his index finger while extending a pinky at Alani. “You do drugs?”

She shrugs, taking a sip of her Mai Tai. “Smoked weed a few times, though not enough to consider myself a pothead, I guess,”

Mitch snorts and steals a glance at Harry. “Pot makes our boy sleepy, and hungry. Alcohol makes him giggly. Shrooms get him buzzed just right,”

Harry’s cheeks flush and he averts his gaze past Alani where families and visitors roam the streets outside. 

“Jumping out a window’s  ‘just right’? I’d hate to see what going overboard looks like.” she teases, watching the blush of embarrassment creep across the bridge of Harry’s nose and cheeks.

“Keeps things interesting.” Mitch shrugs, turning back to Jeff to join his previous conversation.

 Alani feels a strange sense of endearment wash over her at the thought of a giggly Harry, dimples replacing a deeply furrowed brow. In the short time she’d known and served him at the café, she’d only ever seen him reserved—polite, at best. Alani had hoped that interviewing Harry would provide some insight into his mysterious background, but she didn’t imagine that she would want to know more than what could be penned in her article. In the few minutes spent mingling with him and his friends, she began to think that maybe there was something worth getting to know, not just professionally, but before she can give it a second thought, David returns with their food.

“Thanks, Derek.” Harry says, flashing a facetious grin at David who stands confused for a second before sauntering back to the kitchen. Alani laughs, quickly clasping a hand over her mouth, and Harry’s stomach flips at the sound. He immediately wishes he knew what else he could do to hear it again.

Alani scrapes the last bits of potato off her plate and leans back in her seat, patting her growing food baby. 

“I’m thinking of naming mine Oliver, you?” She sighs contentedly. 

“Anne, after my mum,” he quips back, pulling out his wallet.

Alani reaches into her bag for her own, but Harry shakes his head and speaks up. “Don’t worry about it, ‘s on me,”

“Oh, no Harry you really don’t have to—”

“I don’t mind,” he shrugs, slipping his card onto the small clipboard attached to their receipts.

“Thank you,” Alani smiles, feeling warmth spread through her limbs, but she assumes that it’s mostly due to the rum in her system.

Harry pushes a lock of hair behind his ear and returns the wallet to his back pocket without another word. While there is no alcohol coursing through his blood, he refuses to believe that the burning in his cheeks has anything to do with the girl seated before him.

Alani climbs back into the passenger’s seat of the SUV while Harry settles behind the wheel. He braces his right hand behind the headrest of her seat and skillfully reverses, only becoming aware of their proximity when he turns back to switch gears. Alani peels her eyes from his and focuses on finding a playlist for their journey back to the studio, her mind racing as she clicks shuffle. Harry’s arm retreats, much to Alani’s disappointment, and his ears perk up when he hears the familiar chimes at the beginning of Fleetwood Mac’s “Everywhere”.

“‘S a good one,” Harry breaks the silence, tapping on the steering wheel. “Christine always says it’s her favorite,”

“Christine...McVie?” Alani questions with an eyebrow quirked. “You know Christine McVie?”

“Kind of,” he shrugs, the corners of his lips twitching into a smirk.

“Do you know Stevie Nicks?”

“Yeah. She lives in London,”

“Holy shit!” Alani marvels, covering her mouth in excitement.

Harry chuckles lightly, stealing a glance over at Alani still processing the news. “Big fan?” 

She whips her head away from the window and scoffs. “Massive. Named my car Stevie, actually,”

“Hardcore,” Harry teases, echoing her own comment about his psychedelic escapades.

“Yes, Mr. Spider-Man. In my own right, I suppose it is hardcore,” Alani retorts.

“I thought  Spider-Man climbed buildings. Don’t think he jumped out of them.”

“I’m sure he’s done his fair share of both.”

The two drive down the coast for a while without a word, Harry drumming against the steering wheel as the song dies out while Alani soaks in the view outside her window. Suddenly, she reaches over and taps him on the arm, drawing him out of his reverie. 

“Turn right up there!”

“Why?” Harry asks, already putting his blinker on. 

Alani doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t need to. Harry saw it just seconds after turning into the lookout and it left him breathless. The car comes to a stop and Alani wastes no time unbuckling her seatbelt and stepping into the humid air, Harry close behind. Before them, the biggest rainbow either of them had ever seen shimmers in the high afternoon sun like a wall of unbelievable vibrant hues. Harry had never seen one this close, he felt as though he could reach out and feel each color slip through his fingers. 

“Are you making a wish?” Alani asks reverently, as if raising her voice too loud will spook it away. 

“I thought that was for shooting stars,”

“We’re literally staring face to face with a rainbow and you’re gonna argue with me about the logistics of a wish?”

“Okay, okay,” he relents, grinning to himself as his eyes flutter close. 

Harry takes a deep breath and searches his brain for something, anything, but there is only one word pounding in his mind. He doesn’t know why it stood out to him when Alani first said it, but it struck a chord within him that hasn’t stopped reverberating, so it must mean something. Harry swallows the lump forming at the back of his throat and releases the breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. When his eyes flutter open again, he steals a peek through the corner of his eye at the girl beside him and then fixes his gaze back on the rainbow. 

“S’quite big, innit?” He remarks, breaking the reverent silence. 

Alani snorts and shakes her head, turning on her heel back to the car. 

“You’re so eloquent. Can’t wait to hear what lyrical gems are hiding in your new album,”

“Heyyy,” Harry pouts, climbing behind the wheel. “Who said anything about an album?” 

As they peel away from the lookout, Harry can sense something has shifted in the atmosphere, though he can’t quite put his finger on it. He opts to ignore it and poses a lighthearted question instead. 

“What’d you wish for?”

Alani narrows her eyes playfully. “You’re not supposed to tell. It won’t come true.”

Harry hums, trying to imagine what she could possibly wish for that would require such secrecy, but his thoughts wander back to the singular word that has haunted his mind since it left her lips. 

Home.

Next Chapter

[trans-advice]

Excerpt from “Transgender History” (2017) by Susan Stryker (“Chapter 3: Trans Liberation”)

[...]

Stonewall:

Meanwhile, across the continent [from San Francisco, California, USA], another important center of transgender activism was taking shape in New York City [New York, USA], where, not coincidentally, Harry Benjamin maintained his primary medical practice. In 1968, Mario Martino, a female-to-male transsexual, founded Labyrinth, the first organization in the United States devoted specifically to the needs of transgender men. Martino and his wife, who both worked in the health care field, helped other transsexual men navigate their way through the often-confusing maze of transgender-oriented medical services just then beginning to emerge, which (despite being funded primarily by Reed Erickson) were geared more toward the needs of transgenderwomen than transgender men. Labyrinth was not a political organization but rather one that aimed to help individuals make the often-difficult transition from one social gender to another.

Far overshadowing the quiet work of Martino’s Labyrinth Foundation, however, were the dramatic events of June 1969 at the Stonewall Inn, a bar in New York’s Greenwich Village. The “Stonewall Riots” have been mythologized as the origin of the gay liberation movement, and there is a great deal of truth in that characterization, but—as we have seen—gay, transgender, and gender-nonconforming people had been engaging in militant protest and collective actions against social oppression for at least a decade by that time. Stonewall stands out as the biggest and most consequential example of a kind of event that was becoming increasingly common, rather than as a unique occurrence. By 1969, as a result of many years of social upheaval and political agitation, large numbers of people who were socially marginalized because of their sexual orientation or gender identity, especially younger people who were part of the Baby Boomer generation, were drawn to the idea of “gay revolution” and were primed for any event that would set such a movement off. The Stonewall Riots provided that very spark, and they inspired the formation of Gay Liberation Front groups in big cities, progressive towns, and college campuses all across the United States. Ever since the summer of 1969, various groups of people who identify with the people who participated in the rioting have argued about what actually happened, what the riot’s underlying causes were, who participated in it, and what the movements that point back to Stonewall as an important part of their own history have in common with one another.

Although Greenwich Village was not as economically down-and-out as San Francisco’s Tenderloin, it was nevertheless a part of the city that appealed to the same sorts of people who resisted at Cooper Do-Nut, Dewey’s, and Compton’s Cafeteria: drag queens, hustlers, gender nonconformists of many varieties, gay men, lesbians, and countercultural types who simply “dug the scene.” The Stonewall Inn was a small, shabby, Mafia-run bar (as were many of the gay-oriented bars in New York back in the days when being gay or cross-dressing were crimes). It drew a racially mixed crowd and was popular mainly for its location on Christopher Street near Sheridan Square, where many gay men “cruised” for casual sex, and because it featured go-go boys, cheap beer, a good jukebox, and a crowded dance floor. Then as now, there was a lively street scene in the bar’s vicinity, one that drew young and racially mixed queer folk from through the region most weekend nights. Police raids were relatively frequent (usually when the bar was slow to make its payoffs to corrupt cops) and relatively routine and uneventful. Once the bribes were sorted out, the bar would reopen, often on the same night. But in the muggy, early morning hours of Saturday, June 28, 1969, events departed from the familiar script when the squad cars pulled up outside the Stonewall Inn.

[Source text Inserts “Sidebar: Radical Transsexual” here]

A large crowd of people gathered on the street as police began arresting workers and patrons and escorting them out of the bar and into the waiting police wagons. Some people in the crowd started throwing coins at the police officers, taunting them for taking “payola.” Eyewitness accounts of what happened next differ in their particulars, but some witnesses claim a transmasculine person resisted police attempts to put them in the police wagon, while others noted that African American and Puerto Rican members of the crowd—many of them street queens, feminine gay men, transgender women, or gender-nonconforming youth—grew increasingly angry as they watched their “sisters” being arrested and escalated the level of opposition to the police. Both stories might well be true. Sylvia Rivera, a transgender woman who came to play an important role in subsequent transgender political history, long maintained that, after she was jabbed by a police baton, she threw the beer bottle that tipped the crowd’s mood from mockery to collective resistance. In any case, the targeting of gender-nonconforming people, people of color, and poor people during a police action fits the usual patterns of police behavior in such situations.

Bottles, rocks, and other heavy objects were soon being hurled at the police, who, in retaliation, began grabbing people from the crowd and beating them.Weekend partiers and residents in the heavily gay neighborhood quickly swelledthe ranks of the crowd to more than two thousand people, and the outnumberedpolice barricaded themselves inside the Stonewall Inn and called for reinforcements. Outside, rioters used an uprooted parking meter as a batteringram to try to break down the bar’s door, while other members of the crowdattempted to throw a Molotov cocktail inside to drive the police back into the streets. Tactical Patrol Force officers arrived on the scene in an attempt to contain the growing disturbance, which nevertheless continued for hours until dissipating before dawn. That night, thousands of people regrouped at the Stonewall Inn to protest. When the police arrived to break up the assembled crowd, street fighting even more violent than that of the night before ensued. One particularly memorable sight amid the melee was a line of drag queens, arms linked, dancing a can-can and singing campy, improvised songs that mocked the police and their inability to regain control of the situation: “We are the Stonewall girls / We wear our hair in curls / We always dress with flair / We wear clean underwear / We wear our dungarees / Above our nellie knees.” Minor skirmishes and protest rallies continued throughout the next few days before finally dying down. By that time, however, untold thousands of people had been galvanized into political action.

Sidebar: Radical Transsexual

Suzy Cooke was a young hippie from upstate New York who lived in a commune in Berkeley, California, when she started transitioning from male to female in 1969. She came out as a bisexual transsexual in the context of the radical counterculture.

I was facing being called back up for the draft. I had already been called up once and had just gone in and played crazy with them the year before. But that was just an excuse. I had also been doing a lot of acid and really working things out. And then December 31, 1968, I took something—I don’t really know what it was—but everything just collapsed. I said, “This simply cannot go on.” To the people that I lived with, I said, “I don’t care if you hate me, but I’m just going to have to do something. I’m going to have to work it out over the next couple of months, and that it doesn’t matter if you reject me, I just have to do it.”

As it was, the people in my commune took it very well. I introduced the cross-dressing a few days later as a way of avoiding the draft. And they were just taken aback at how much just putting on the clothes made me into a girl. I mean, hardly any makeup. A little blush, a little shadow, some gloss, the right clothes, padding. I passed. I passed really easily in public. This is like a few months before Stonewall. And by this point I was dressing up often enough that people were used to seeing it.

I was wallowing in the happiness of having a lot of friends. Here I was being accepted, this kinda cool/sorta goofy hippie kid. I was being accepted by all these heavy radicals. I had been rejected by my parental family, and I had never found a family at college, and now here I was with this family of like eight people all surrounding me. And as it turned out, even some of the girls that I had slept with were thinking that this was really cool. All the girls would donate clothes to me. I really had not been expecting this. I had been expecting rejection, I really had been. And I was really very pleased and surprised. Because I thought that if I did this then I was going to have to go off and live with the queens. And I didn’t.

Stonewall’s Transgender Legacy:

Within a month of the Stonewall Riots, gay activists inspired by the events in Greenwich Village formed the Gay Liberation Front (GLF), which modeled itself on radical Third World liberation and anti-imperialist movements. The GLF spread quickly through activist networks in the student and antiwar movements, primarily among white young people of middle-class origin. Almost as quickly as it formed, however, divisions appeared within the GLF, primarily taking aim at the movement’s domination by white men and its perceived marginalization of women, working-class people, people of color, and trans people. People with more liberal, less radical politics soon organized as the Gay Activists Alliance (GAA), which aimed to reform laws rather than foment revolution. Many lesbians redirected their energy toward radical feminism and the women’s movement. And trans people, after early involvement in the GLF (and being explicitly excluded from the GAA’s agenda), quickly came to feel that they did not have a welcome place in the movement they had done much to inspire. As a consequence, they soon formed their own organizations.

In 1970, Sylvia Rivera and another Stonewall regular, Marsha P. Johnson, established STAR—Street Transvestite Action Revolutionaries. Their primary goal was to help street kids stay out of jail, or get out of jail, and to find food, clothing, and a place to live. They opened STAR House, an overtly politicized version of the “house” culture that already characterized black and Latino queer kinship networks, where dozens of trans youth could count on a free and safe place to sleep. Rivera and Johnson, as “house mothers,” would hustle to pay the rent, while their “children” would scrounge for food. Their goal was to educate and protect the younger people who were coming into the kind of life they themselves led—they even dreamed of establishing a school for kids who’d never learned to read and write because their formal education was interrupted by discrimination and bullying. Some STAR members, particularly Rivera, were also active in the Young Lords, a revolutionary Puerto Rican youth organization. One of the first times the STAR banner was flown in public was at a mass demonstration against police repression organized by the Young Lords in East Harlem in 1970, in which STAR participated as a group. STAR House lasted for only two or three years and inspired a few short-lived imitators in other cities, but its legacy lives on even now.

A few other transgender groups formed in New York in the early 1970s. A trans woman named Judy Bowen organized two extremely short-lived groups: Transvestites and Transsexuals (TAT) in 1970 and Transsexuals Anonymous in 1971. More significant was the Queens’ Liberation Front (QLF), founded by drag queen Lee Brewster and heterosexual transvestite Bunny Eisenhower. The QLF formed in part to resist the erasure of drag and trans visibility in the first Christopher Street Liberation Day march, which commemorated the Stonewall Riots and is now an annual event held in New York on the last Sunday in June. In many other cities, this weekend has become the traditional date to celebrate LGBTQ Pride. The formation of the QLF demonstrates how quickly the gay liberation movement started to push aside some of the very people who had the greatest stake in militant resistance at Stonewall. QLF members participated in that first Christopher Street Liberation Day march and were involved in several other political campaigns through the next few years—including wearing drag while lobbying state legislators in Albany. QLF’s most lasting contribution, however, was the publication of Drag Queen magazine (later simply Drag), which had the best coverage of transgender news and politics in the United States, and which offered fascinating glimpses of trans life and activism outside the major coastal cities. In New York, QLF founder Lee Brewster’s private business, Lee’s Mardi Gras Boutique, was a gathering place for segments of the city’s transgender community well into the 1990s.