#or perhaps even 10-20 seconds to write me a little message in the tags! A 'this is cool' is always nice!!

[septimus-heap]

I appreciate that there r people who don't care about getting reblogs and that's fine that's whatever but could they stop being so snooty about it

[kbstories]

impression//expression

“It’s not like Kirishima had come all this way to U.A. to immediately break the promise he made to himself upon arrival.

It’s just that Bakugou is as feral as they come, and the moment Kirishima recognizes it’s fear he felt crawling up his spine that day, he makes it his personal mission to face it head-on until it’s gone.”

(Or: Being friends with Bakugou Katsuki is anything but a linear experience. Kirishima Eijirou would have it no other way.)

Tags: Kirishima POV, Developing Friendships, Kamino Arc, Kidnapping & Aftermath, Hurt/Comfort, Bakugou Gets A Hug

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Content warning for kidnapping, aftermath of violence. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9.

***

Nitro!! (Baku 💣💥)

i’m gonna die (sent 19:08)

no seriously i’m this 👌🏻 close to losing it bro (sent 19:08)

aizawa’s voice is so zzzz and it’s like sir,, i’m begging,,,, (sent 19:09)

a little bit of energy. just a little bit (sent 19:09)

A nudge to his side, somewhat urgent.

shit brb (sent 19:10)

“Dude.”

Kirishima keeps his voice down to a hiss, shooting a glance at Aizawa’s turned back just in case. Hidden behind his pencil case, his phone shows Bakugou has read his messages – near-immediately, as always – before Kirishima locks the screen. His own face is reflected on sleek, innocent black.

Next to him, Kaminari is looking at him like he’s lost his mind. “Don’t dude me, dude”, he whispers back. “Texting in Aizawa’s class? D’you have a death wish?”

Next to Kaminari, Mina leans over her desk, clearly curious and uncaring of her notes crinkling quietly under her elbows. “You? Kiri, paragon of wholesomeness and sunshine, breaking the rules? Lemme guess, it’s because of Bakugou.”

Next to Mina, Sero joins the fray with a muted headshake. “So brave yet so reckless. Truly inspiring.”

“You can say that again. That guy’s scary, man.” That’s Kaminari again. He leans in conspiratorially, nodding at Kirishima’s phone. “You got Blasty’s number? How? He almost bit my head off when I invited him to the 1-A chat.”

“Uh, yeah? We’re besties. But guys…”

If they were anywhere else, Kirishima would let out a whine. All he wanted to do was keep himself awake by texting his bro, is that such a crime? Especially since Bakugou’s the only one of ‘em who is actually allowed out there, where the fun stuff is happening. It’s downright cruel to have a new challenge dangled in front of their eyes like the juiciest steak only to be dragged away to the equivalent of plain steamed broccoli. Or something.

Point is: Kirishima’s bored enough he could cry and Aizawa, bless his insomnia-plagued soul, is making it about a thousand times worse with his monotone mumbling while he continues to write whatever-the-fuck in chalk to illustrate his point.

Three mouths open simultaneously in what Kirishima knows will be a too-loud bout of teasing – a frantic gesture of his hand to shut up, shut up, shut up has identical grins bursting on his friends’ faces.

Grins that disappear the instant the familiar sense of Aizawa’s quirk washes over them. Uh oh.

Aizawa doesn’t even have to say anything. Not even a brief pause registers in his lecture yet Kirishima snaps to attention so hard his buttcheeks clench as he furiously scribbles down what’s on the board. Some sort of… diagram? (It’ll make sense later, Kirishima hopes. And if it doesn’t, there’s always his equally draconic tutor-slash-best-friend he can poke into helping him eventually.)

After a semester at U.A., everyone in 1-A is whipped enough that not a single word is breathed between them for a good fifteen minutes. Aizawa talks, they take notes.

Then the adrenaline wears off and Kirishima finds himself drifting once more, fingers automatically flicking the home button. There, over Crimson Riot’s confident grin, three new messages.

Nitro!! (Baku 💣💥)

pay attention (received 19:14)

ffs (received 19:14)

hope aizawa murdered your ass (received 19:16)

No surprises there. Well, the fact that Bakugou has deigned to reply just before a training exercise kind of is, and he even triple-texted which makes a sappy part of Kirishima’s brain think he must’ve rubbed off on him over the past months. The day Bakugou Katsuki discovers emojis can’t be far off now and it will be Kirishima’s greatest achievement to date.

He bites his lip to suppress an amused noise at that. Ignoring the incredulous stare from Kaminari to his right, Kirishima types.

Nitro!! (Baku 💣💥)

haha! i lived bitch (sent 19:32)

minus the bitch askdjfhsk sry (sent 19:32)

i’m just tired af lol (sent 19:32)

how’s things on ur end tho? (sent 19:34)

no asses left unkicked i’m sure (sent 19:34)

👊🏻💥💥 (sent 19:35)

Kirishima gets about a solid second to feel good about furthering his pro-emoji agenda before his phone is snatched away by rigid, white cloth. Wide-eyed, his gaze is met by a flat expression that exudes more exhaustion than any human should rightfully have to feel.

“Kirishima”, Aizawa says, as calm as ever. “How kind of you to lend me your attention.”

Lord have mercy. Whichever hell Aizawa is about to unleash on him, Kirishima will be in it for a while. And when that’s over, it’ll be Bakugou’s turn to have a field day with it.

Somehow, Kirishima is actually looking forward to that last part.

*

Then, a voice rings out in their heads. Aizawa jumps into motion. The villains strike.

Afterwards, all Kirishima can do is stand there and watch the forest burn. His phone is silent, held between fingers that won’t stop trembling no matter what he does. He unlocks, checks, locks, only to do it all over again a few minutes or seconds later.

Around him, everything is spinning out of control. Reality is too loud, too bright, already overwhelming where it waits to be acknowledged beyond the soothing green interface of his chat with Bakugou.

The messages are still there. Marked read until they aren’t, and Kirishima stares at that subtle difference like it’s the last thing tethering him to the ground. Blue tick, his best friend is fine. Grey tick–

Bakugou let Kirishima take a photo of him, once. Kirishima had complained about his profile picture being that creepy default silhouette, especially once they started texting on a daily basis. So Bakugou sighed and leaned over the tiny table of the café, his chin propped on one hand and his coffee in the other. He’d kept still just long enough for the shutter to go off and called him a clingy bastard right after.

In the soft morning light, there’d been something warm in his typical glare. It’s still there, tucked away in the top left corner of the screen. Fond, red eyes, looking straight at Kirishima ever since.

Higher and higher, the flames reach for the sky with greedy, cobalt fingers, bright enough to take the stars with them. And Bakugou?

Bakugou is gone.

*

Nitro!! (Baku 💣💥)

hey (sent 23:01)

it’s a long shot but (sent 23:03)

are u there? (sent 23:03)

these are going thru so ur phone is on and i thought (sent 23:08)

idk (sent 23:08)

please respond man (sent 23:37)

please (sent 23:58)

katsuki? (sent 00:40)

*

Nitro!! (Baku 💣💥)

fuck (sent 3:24)

*

Bakugou Katsuki

um (sent 6:13)

the pros asked for ur number to track it and stuff so i gave it to them (sent 6:13)

turns out almost nobody has it?? so like (sent 6:20)

if u want a new one after all this it’s on me (sent 6:21)

pls don’t be mad haha (sent 6:21)

fuck that actually (sent 7:05)

be as mad as u want baku (sent 7:06)

u can do whatever ok? when u come back (sent 7:09)

free pass. i won’t guard this time (sent 7:09)

just come back (sent 8:00)

they’re looking for u so u gotta come back (sent 8:02)

* 

Baku 💣💥

sry i just (sent 19:55)

ok still going thru (sent 19:55)

that’s good right? (sent 19:57)

i need it to be good (sent 20:05)

yeah (sent 20:06)

*

Baku 💣💥

it’s saturday (sent 2:33)

please be ok (sent 4:46)

i miss u (sent 5:00)

*

Baku 💣💥

we’re on our way katsuki (sent 12:45)

just hold on we’re coming for u (sending…)

wait (sending…)

oh (sending…)

*

Bakugou is quiet.

When all is said and done, injuries patched up and police statements given, Kirishima waits and Bakugou looks… tired. Small. Glancing back at the precinct with eyes a little too wide, a little too hesitant to truly belong to him.

Whatever he’s searching, if he finds it or not – Kirishima can only guess as Bakugou’s shoulders slump further and he mutters, “Let’s just go.”

In retrospect, he was probably talking to his parents. The Bakugous came for their son in a car as expensive as they come, white with chrome highlights and an interior clad entirely in tasteful, beige leather; it’s an aesthetic that’s the antithesis to Katsuki’s. Their expressions are full of love, though, brows drawn in concern carefully left unspoken. His father opens the back door for him first, going for his own in the front, while his mother ruffles Bakugou’s hair within the one-second-window he allows for the touch before shrugging it off.

“Welcome back, brat. We missed ya.”

Familiar phrases laden with far too much weight. From the outside in, it’s just that: Mildly exasperated parents picking up their kid after some school thing that dragged on into the night, or perhaps a late hangout with a friend. No one acknowledges the nightmare-ish three days they’ve left behind by the merit of time passing and the world spinning on and nothing else – the countless people injured or dead, an entire district torn asunder in a conflict much bigger than any of them, especially Bakugou.

Bakugou, who shuffles onto the backseat without saying much of anything. It’s only after Kirishima trails after him and Bakugou’s eyes meet his own over his shoulder that Kirishima realizes that’s what he’s doing.

Then Bakugou’s gaze softens and he kicks the door of the car open wider. “Um”, Kirishima pipes up, the noise of keys clinking together drawing his attention to one Bakugou Mitsuki. “Is it okay if I…?”

She snorts and ruffles his hair, too. “Kid, after what you did tonight, a ride home is the least I can do for ya. C’mon.”

Kirishima bows politely, a mumble of “Thanks, ma’am” waved away immediately. A moment later, Kirishima’s hand is being grabbed and he’s dragged inside. “Get a move on”, Bakugou mumbles, staring pointedly until Kirishima rights himself and digs for the seatbelt with his free hand. The click of the clasp snapping in is oddly loud in the ensuing silence.

It doesn’t last. The moment the engine purrs to life and the lights go off, a heavy guitar riff screeches from cleverly hidden speakers in perfect surround sound and Kirishima jumps. He’s the only one in the car to do so.

“Whoops, my bad”, says Bakugou’s mom as she turns the music down the slightest amount, her smirk – so familiar and yet not – clearly visible in the rear-view mirror. Next to her, Bakugou’s dad chuckles and shakes his head.

Bakugou himself is turned towards the window, the hand against his chin barely hiding the tiny smirk there. Kirishima lets him have it. Anything that’ll replace that lost expression from earlier is good in his books.

“So. Eijirou, right? Nice to finally meet ya.” Mrs. Bakugou checks in with him via the mirror. Her hand rests on the gear selector. “Where to? We’ll bring you home first. I’m sure your parents are worried.”

And oh fuck, Kirishima hasn’t even thought that far ahead yet. When he snuck out of the house a lifetime ago, all his mind was able to process was getting to Bakugou, saving Bakugou, bringing Bakugou back. As much as both his mothers are angels in their own right, they’re also easily worried and twice as buff as him. There haven’t been many occasions which called for them to throw down for their son but they totally would if given half the chance.

If they catch wind of even a fraction of what Kirishima got up to tonight, someone will have to pay. Kirishima’s willing to bet his most prized, limited-edition Crimson Riot figurine that that someone will end up being all of U.A., nationally famous pro heroes or not.

Before any of that can make it out of his mouth, Kirishima’s hand is squeezed and… Oh. Bakugou’s still holding it. Their skin isn’t touching; Kirishima’s sleeve has been pulled down to prevent that.

(It’s one of those things Bakugou does, tracking who and what gets in direct contact with his sweat and how to neutralize it in time. It makes Kirishima’s chest ache that, despite everything that happened, he is still aware of small things like that.)

“He’s crashing at ours tonight”, Bakugou tells his parents rather gruffly. Still looking out the window like there’s nothing unusual about that at all, and Kirishima gapes at him in complete and utter surprise. Bakugou’s grip only tightens.

“Got a problem with that?”

Just like that, Kirishima finds himself able to process speech. “Nope! Not at all. Uh, that is– Mrs. Bakugou, Mr. Bakugou, can I?”

Bakugou’s parents look similarly caught off-guard. To their credit, they merely blink and look at each other, shrugging. Again, it’s the mother who speaks. “That’s Mitsuki and Masaru to you, kid. Let’s go home, then.”

And that’s that. They set off, the car’s movement a quiet thrum that’s drowned out by complicated drum solos and vocals barely scraping past outright growling. Any other day, Kirishima would’ve been ecstatic to finally get to meet the Bakugous. He’d hoard bits and pieces of knowledge about them – such as the fact that Katsuki’s taste in music runs in the family, what the hell – like a dragon does gold coins. The notion that Bakugou invited him to their first sleep-over ever would be the biggest treasure on that pile, for sure.

Because Bakugou Katsuki is anything if not cautious: with his quirk, with his time, with his trust. Because, after days of pacing his room and worrying himself sick and crying until exhaustion took him out, their plan worked.

They pulled it off, Bakugou is back and alive, and Kirishima’s allowed to stay by his side a little bit longer.

He’s here because Bakugou wants him to be and that… feels better than Kirishima can properly put into words. So, no, he doesn’t boast about it, he doesn’t have the energy to – but Kirishima notes and appreciates it nonetheless, relief forming a ball of warmth and light that radiates within him like a tiny sun got stuck between his lungs and his heart. Bit by bit, it melts the tension off Kirishima’s bones until all he can grasp is the steady presence of Bakugou’s hand in his and how heavy his eyelids feel.

Kirishima could sleep for a week straight and still crave a nap afterwards. Probably.

There’s something he has to do before he crashes, though. With a gentle squeeze, he frees his hand to grab his phone and winces at the dozens of unread messages and missed calls that greet him. Both the group he has with his family as well as the one for 1-A have been running hot most of the night, reducing his battery to a pitiful 12%.

Opening up the chat with his moms, Kirishima scrolls to the bottom of the increasingly worried barrage of texts and hesitates, his fingers hovering over the keypad. Once he starts typing, he’ll have about a minute before shit really hits the fan.

💪🏻Kirishima Power 💪🏻

guys i’m so sorry!!! (sent 21:58)

i know ur worried and stuff and i swear i’ll explain later ok?? (sent 21:58)

 just wanna let u know i’m safe!! staying over at baku’s tonight (sent 21:58)

he’s here and safe too (sent 21:58)

🙏🏻🙏🏻 (sent 21:59)

He pauses then, reading that last part over and over again. Safe. Safe, safe, safe. A smile cracks Kirishima’s lips apart and it remains there, steadfast through the flood of new messages rolling in.

*

Bakugou’s room is both everything Kirishima expected it to be and at the same time… not.

It’s huge, for one, the typical bed-wardrobe-desk setup expanded by a couch and a beanbag, a TV with a variety of game systems hooked up to it, a handful of shelves filled to the brim with books and manga and oh, a whole freaking drum set taking up a corner by itself. The walls are plastered with band posters and signed set lists and – less blatant but still there – the odd All Might merch Kirishima knows Bakugou would strangle him for mentioning, so he doesn’t.

What comes out of his mouth is: “Dude! I didn’t know you played drums. That’s so cool!”

Everything is kept in the triad of black-orange-green Kirishima recognizes from a certain hero costume. A few discarded shirts aside, it’s really tidy. So much so that Kirishima feels ashamed of the state of his own room just by seeing this.

The feeling is compounded by Bakugou picking up those shirts and throwing them in the hamper first thing, a quiet tch indicating he’s annoyed by it. Kirishima isn’t up to outing himself as an unrepentant walking mess in comparison – instead, he makes a beeline for the bookshelf with the manga, eyes drawn to a row of covers he’d recognize in a heartbeat.

“Wha– I’ve been looking for these for ages! They’re sold out every time I try to catch up on ‘em.”

A short glance at Bakugou is answered with a shrug and an eye-roll: It’s Bakugou-speak for do whatever the hell you want. Kirishima pulls out the volume he stopped at and leafs through it.

It’s meant as a distraction for Bakugou, a space for him to drop the put-together façade and breathe without people constantly fussing over him. It’s honestly what Kirishima would rather be doing right now (exploring his best bro’s room be damned) but it’s not what Bakugou needs. Well, what Kirishima thinks he needs.

It’s hard to get a read on him without the constant snark and pointed glares. With some dinner in their bellies and Bakugou’s parents now safely downstairs, the expression that fits nowhere on the Angry Bakugou Face catalogue is back. Kind of uncomfortable and so… absent.

Kirishima is really starting to hate that expression.

It’s entirely accidental that Kirishima actually gets into reading. One chapter turns to three, turns to five, and the troubles and worries whirling ever-tighter in his chest ease for a bit until–

Woosh. A soft, balled-up something knocks against the back of his head. Kirishima startles and almost drops the manga, a vaguely alarmed noise stopped short by the sight of Bakugou in sweats and a well-worn, black shirt. His hair is wet. Wild as ever. At Kirishima’s feet: A similar outfit including a towel.

“Bathroom’s that way. Leave your clothes out by the door, I got special detergent for the nitro. Shampoo and shit’s in the shower, there’s a toothbrush for you by the sink. Use it.”

Kirishima opens his mouth.

Bakugou sighs. “It’s just a fucking toothbrush, Kiri. Wreck it for all I care.”

Kirishima closes his mouth. He nods. His phone is quickly dug out of his pocket and set aside, then he slips out to shower.

A good fifteen minutes later, he opens the door to let out a gust of steam and sees his clothes are gone. The hallway is empty, half-lit by the light coming from downstairs. The Bakugous have been as nonchalant about their spontaneous guest as Bakugou himself; even so, Kirishima tries not to linger or make too much noise as he sneaks back to Bakugou’s room.

“Baku. I’m back.”

Bakugou gives him a grunt of acknowledgement from where he’s fitting some sheets over the couch, folded out to provide a decently sized bed. There’s a pillow and a pile of blankets next to him, wrapped in fresh linen as well. It’s unlikely he’s stopped doing stuff since Kirishima left and if he is about ready to crash in five to ten minutes, he can’t imagine how Bakugou is doing right now.

Y’know, the guy who just survived being kidnapped by Japan’s newest and most notorious villain menace. No amount of pretense can make that simple fact undone.

Kirishima pads over to help, the offer to take over already on his lips but– Too late. The last corner is already being tucked in and laid flat with grim-faced efficiency. Left with nothing else to do, Kirishima sits down on the very edge, eyes downcast and fingers fiddling with the hem of his borrowed shirt. There’s some sort of band logo on it, an English word written in that typical death-metal-font that looks like someone dumped a bunch of white sticks in a pile and called it a day.

It’s soft. A little loose and frayed around the edges.

“Hey, Baku?”

Taking the blankets, Bakugou dumps them in Kirishima’s lap. “Mh?” He makes to step away and Kirishima doesn’t think, just reaches out and catches the back of his shirt.

“Dude, seriously. Just… sit down for a minute. Please?”

And Bakugou… listens. He stops, he frowns at Kirishima for a moment like he’s trying to figure out what his deal is, he sighs like he’s been presented with the world’s most aggravating puzzle – and then he tells Kirishima to scooch. “What? I’m not gonna sit on the fucking floor”, he says.

Kirishima can’t keep the relief off his face as he gladly makes room on the couch, leaning against its arm and tucking his legs in. Once Bakugou has settled, cross-legged with an elbow propped on the backrest, Kirishima throws the blanket over both of ‘em. Might as well get comfortable while they still can.

“Okay.” He steels himself with a long, slow breath. “I know you hate this kinda thing and we’re both tired and… stuff. Still, though: Are you okay?”

Bakugou gives him a look, which– Okay, fair. It’s a dumb question with an obvious answer. Kirishima doesn’t back down, though, humming to buy himself some time to rephrase.

“Like… It’s fine if you’re not. Okay, I mean. And if you’d rather go the fuck to bed and not think about this for a while that’s fine, too. But that was pretty rough and you’ve been, um, quiet. And stuff. So, I’m kinda worried. Y’know?”

Kirishima pauses. A bit lower, he mumbles: “And I missed you. So yeah.”

At some point, he dropped his gaze to his hands, limp and useless in his lap. Kirishima swore not to be a coward anymore but it’s hard, to speak and ask about things in full awareness he has no fucking clue what he’s doing.

All he wants is for Bakugou to be okay. That’s all that matters, at the end of a day like this.

“I’m not”, Bakugou says, tentatively. Like he’s making up his mind as he goes. “I’m not gonna waste your time with ‘I’m fine’. I’m not. This shit’s fucked up.” And again he sighs, sounding so fucking tired Kirishima’s heart squeezes in sympathy.

“I haven’t slept in three fucking days; my shoulders are killing me from using my quirk and sitting chained to that stupid chair and whatever the fuck else. The League scouted me specifically because they thought I’d make a good villain and fuck them for that. Fuck them. But it’s just… It’s whatever. It doesn’t matter.”

Whatever Kirishima expected, it’s not that. He looks up and into Bakugou’s eyes and–

He can’t mean that, can he? Kirishima searches his face for evidence to the contrary, traces the tension around Bakugou’s mouth and the exhaustion smudged under his eyes and the line between his brows, growing deeper under Kirishima’s scrutiny. It all reads defeat. It hurts.

They won, right? A childish voice within Kirishima can’t help but cling to that even as he looks back down. They won, and things are supposed to get better when you win.

“People got hurt. People died, Kiri. Heroes, too.” Bakugou takes a shaky breath, a hand going to his hair and rubbing it roughly. “Fucking… Best Jeanist was there and nobody at the precinct wanted to tell me if he’s alive or dead or what. All of Kamino Ward is fucking gone and All Might–”

Bakugou’s voice cracks right down the middle and it hurts. Like there’s a beast tearing through Kirishima’s chest to rip out his heart and throw it to the floor, stubbornly beating as it bleeds out.

Kirishima wants to say something. Anything. All he can hear is Bakugou’s breathing but it’s all wrong, off-rhythm and thread-bare and upset, and any doubt what that means is erased as Bakugou’s hand clenches on the sheets and he sniffs, wet on the exhale.

“Baku–”

“Don’t. Kiri, don’t–”

He’s always been like that, ordering him around and demanding things when politeness dictates to ask for them instead. His tone is as close to pleading as Kirishima’s ever heard from Bakugou, though, and it twists him up inside to the point he feels distantly nauseous.

“Don’t look.” Bakugou isn’t supposed to sound like that. Not now, not ever. “Okay? Don’t f-fucking– Don’t look at me right now.”

“Okay”, Kirishima says. “I won’t.” His own voice is a mess as well, trembling all over the place. “I won’t, Nitro. I won’t.”

You’re safe, is what he wants to tell him. It’s okay, you’re safe now. That’s not what Bakugou is asking of him. Kirishima can’t stop himself from crying because it’s always been hard not to when the people he loves are doing it, but… He tries. For Bakugou, he’ll always try.

Through eyes heavily clouded by tears, he sees Bakugou’s hand tighten, knuckles going white and bloodless. Painfully tense, and Kirishima can’t stand the sight of that, either.

He shuffles a little closer to place his hand over that fist, careful to only touch the back of Bakugou’s hand. Kirishima whispers, “I’m here”, and Bakugou audibly swallows. He lets him slip his fingers in-between his own.

Holding on, just as he did in the car and when they met in mid-air, that desperate instance that decided whether he would make it out alive or not.

Bakugou holds on even as he breaks for good and his shoulders shake with his sobs. As he continues to breathe in gulps of air that sound strangled and desperate, through tears that leave a pattern of uneven dots on the blanket. By morning they will be gone without a trace: The sun will come up, the world will continue to travel around it, and time will reveal the road they walk on as they walk it, step by step by step.

Just because it’s meant to pass doesn’t make this moment any less real. Any less important. Kirishima sits there and listens to his best friend cry. He remembers days spent without him and the mad dash to save him. He thinks of dumb questions and obvious answers.

It’s hard to tell if this is one of them, so he gathers all his courage and asks: “Katsuki. Can I hug you?”

Just like last time, Bakugou doesn’t say anything. He laughs, a watery, humorless thing – and he pulls at Kirishima’s shirt to crush him to his chest. His arms wind around Kirishima’s neck, Bakugou’s face pressing against his hair where Kirishima won’t be able to see him.

It’s fine. Kirishima’s great at hugs; he can totally work with that. Clenching his eyes shut, he adjusts his grip around Bakugou’s waist so he can rub his back, following the bumps of his spine. Up and down, over and over. Bakugou goes boneless in their embrace, not about to let go anytime soon and neither will Kirishima.

Eventually, Kirishima tucks his head against Bakugou’s shoulder, blinking sleep from his eyes. Safe. He doesn’t fight the sharp-toothed smile on his lips. Bakugou mumbles, “Fucking sap”, nearly drowned out by their collective sniffling.

It sounds a whole lot like thank you. Kirishima’s smile only grows.

>>Chapter 5

[iwillruletheuniverse]

@bernuviels-inspiration tagged me to do my top 20 favourite albums. Thank you so much <3

1. Post Traumatic by Mike Shinoda (2018) This album have really helped me to deal with Chester’s passing. Even though I love all of the songs ‘Nothing Makes Sense Anymore’ and ‘Make It Up As I Go’ will always be my favourites.

2. Bury The Lies by Takida (2007) ‘Handlake Village’ always hits me in the feels. I wish the music video was still available to see on YouTube because that music video also always hit me so hard. I have no idea on why it was removed but I know the house in the video was for sale a few years ago (and yes I really wanted to buy it) so maybe that’s why. Never mind, I found the music video with another person’s voice: here. I also really love ‘Snypah’

3. Evanescence by Evanescence (2011) I had to choose their self titled album because of songs such as ‘Lost In Paradise’ and ‘Swimming Home’ I relate to those songs so much more now than I did when the album was released.

4. Dark Passion Play by Nightwish (2007) I saw the music video to ‘Amaranth’ on Tracklistan, a swedish music rating list. For years after, it was known as ‘the video with the angel’ because I completely forgot about the band who did it. It wasn’t until one day in school when someone played it in class that I heard it again. But my favourite song is ‘Cadence of Her Last Breath’

5. A Thousand Suns by Linkin Park (2010) I love this album so much, for that it is a ‘message of hope and love in a world filled with war and hate’

6. One More Light by Linkin Park (2017) Even though it’s hard to listen to the songs, I still find that it helps me. ‘Battle Symphony’ helped me realize it wasn’t my fault that my rabbit Rockstar died.

7. Dark Horse by Nickelback (2008) ‘Gotta Be Somebody’, I heard that song on the radio and the music video is amazing. I have cried so much to that song and it have helped me so much. Some days I can listen to it, most days I can’t. ‘I’d Come For You’ (the music video is about sexual assault) and ‘Never Gonna Be Alone’ (whose music video breaks my heart) will always feel like a hug. I even have the horseshoe on the cover as a tattoo.

8. Curb by Nickelback (1996) Released the day before I was born, either ‘Curb’ or ‘Little Friend’ was the first song I ever heard by Nickelback. I have no idea of where but when I was given the CD, I recognized I had heard those two songs before.

9. Life Starts Now by Three Days Grace (2009) With songs such as ‘Someone Who Cares’, ‘World So Cold’ and ‘Break’, I had to choose this album. The line ‘Everyone's got a place to be but there's no room for me’ in ‘Someone Who Cares’ will always stab me.

10. Dead by April by Dead by April (2009) Even though ‘Losing You’ and ‘Angels of Clariy’ meant a lot for me at the time this album was released, ‘Promise Me’ is my favourite song.

11. Sempiternal by Bring Me The Horizon (2013) ‘And The Snakes Start To Sing’ means alot to me.

12. The Black Parade by My Chemical Romance (2006) ‘Famous Last Words’ have helped me many times.

13. Holding Onto Strings Better Left To Fray by Seether (2011) When I, in May 2012, went to Florida to see Nickelback live, Seether was one of the bands that played first. Of all the three bands (yes three - Bush, Seether and My Darkest Days) that played before Nickelback, Seether became my favourite. I was amazed by the pictures they showed on the TV, pictures of creepy dolls. At the time I saw them in Florida, I thought I had never heard about them before, but when I came back from America, I found ‘Broken’, a song I had in fact heard before. My favourite songs from the album is ‘Pass Slowly’ and ‘Here And Now’

14. Body Talk Pt. 1 by Robyn (2010) My rabbit Tage loved that album. I took him out, had a notebook with me and wrote down how he reacted to different songs. His favourite song, and also mine is ‘Fembot’

15. Silver Moon by Donkeyboy (2012) I first heard ‘City Boy’ in school. I could see the music video over and over again but my favourite song on the album is ‘Darkest Night’

16. American Tragedy by Hollywood Undead (2011) ‘Been To Hell’, ‘Hear Me Now’ and ‘Coming Back Down’ are my favourites from this album. Most days I can only listen to ‘Coming Back Down’ if I listen to ‘New Divide’ by Linkin Park first (they’re placed like that in my playlist)

17. The Killer Angels by Civil War (2013) We always buy a magazine in Sweden called Sweden Rock Magazine and back in 2013, this CD was given for free if you bought the magazine. After five seconds, I was caught in a trance. The singer’s voice is amazing. He is no longer a member in the band though. ‘Rome Is Falling’ is my favourite although ‘Gettysburg’ and ‘I Will Rule The Universe’ (that’s how I named my tumblr) always gives me the chills.

18. Blurryface by Twenty One Pilots (2015) Even though I had heard about Twenty One Pilots before the release of this album, Blurryface opened my eyes, or should I write ears on open wide. My favourite songs is ‘Heavydirtysoul’ and ‘Hometown’

19. Twilight of The Gods by Bathory (1991) I listen to ‘Hammerheart’ on repeat in perhaps 2011/2012. It helped a lot. I find it very hard to listen to Bathory nowadays for reasons unknown to me. And it will be harder now, as my rabbit was named in honor of the singer.

20. The Unforgiving by Within Temptation (2011) ‘Lost’ is in my opinion the best song ever written. It’s so extremely powerful. ‘Stairway To The Skies’, the chorus gives me the chills every time I hear it.

This time I will tag people; feel free to do this if you want to, you don’t have to do it as I did if you don’t want to: @fantajikokoro, @beepppp, @lozzawomble, @youre-my-thoughts-at-3am, @stcktoyourgunsx, @every0ne-dies-alone, @buildyourcastleinthe-sky, @xoblxrryfxce

[avengerofyourheart]

Leave This Town Pt 10 (Mechanic!Bucky AU)

Characters: reader, Bucky, Tony Stark, Brock Rumlow. Steve, DumDum Dugan and Peter Parker mentioned.

Summary: After leaving the small town life behind, you’ve worked hard to make your dreams come true. When something unexpected brings you home, you’re brought back to the place where everything changed. Timing is everything and now there just might be a second chance with the man you left behind.

Song Inspiration: Angela by The Lumineers

Warnings: Fluff, mild angst. Mentions of death.

Word Count: 3.9k

Tags are at bottom (TAG LIST IS CLOSED I’M SORRY)

**This fic is for @bionic-buckyb ‘s 5K AU Writing Challenge**

A/N: Aaah!! I’m so excited about this part! :D Please let me know your thoughts, I always love to hear from you. <3

<<<Part Nine   Part Ten   Part Eleven>>> 

Leave This Town Series Masterlist

Full Masterlist

____________________________________________________

Previously:

“I’ll call you before I leave town,” you promised, wishing there was more you could guarantee him.

“Okay,” he replied, ducking his head into the car for one last lingering kiss.

You pulled out of the parking lot and glanced in the rearview mirror to see Bucky still standing there as he raised a hand in goodbye. But it didn’t feel like a farewell this time. Somehow, it felt like only the beginning.

_____________

“I’m still not sold on the ending,” your agent stated as he dropped your manuscript on his desk with a thump. He sat back in his chair while drumming fingers on the desktop next to his computer. “Casting is almost finished, they start filming in two weeks, and I don’t have a finished script.”

“You DO have a finished script, Tony. Just not the conclusion you want. I tried other endings and none of them seemed genuine. This ending is the most organic and it’s where the characters took me. You know how it is, sometimes they have a mind of their own,” you replied with a shrug.

He narrowed his eyes, stroking his well-manicured goatee. “You know you sound like a crazy person when you talk like that, right?”

You laughed. “Not to my fellow writers.”

“Didn’t you get my notes on the last edits?”

You looked away from the screen, lost in thought. “Hmm…the last edit email I got was from Pepper and there was nothing in there about altering the ending,” you said with a smirk.

“That sneaky little…” he trailed off with a shake of his head.

Another chuckle escaped you. “She liked the ending, didn’t she? That’s why she didn’t add your note,” you smiled triumphantly.

Tony shifted in his chair, hesitating. “That remains irrelevant. I am your agent and I say…”

“Please trust me on this, Tony,” you said quickly, interrupting him. “Using the sort of ending you want would mean a total rewrite and it would suck because I would hate it. This script is important to me and I don’t want to ruin it just because you want a predictable ending all tied up in a bow,” you said with conviction, standing your ground.

He leveled you with a supposedly intimidating gaze before slipping off his tinted glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine. You win. I’ll send it through to the director and producers, BUT…if they have a problem with it, we’re revisiting the subject,” he threatened through your iPad’s screen.

You beamed with a grateful smile. “You’re the best, you know that?”

“Yeah, whatever, just go be with your family. We’ll talk in a few days,” he replied, waving off your praise.

“Thanks, Tony,” you said, about to end the Skype call when Tony noticed something, leaning closer to the screen.

“Does Rogers know you had a poster of him in your room?” he teased, pointing to something behind you.

You paled slightly. “Goodbye, Tony,” you said forcefully before ending the call and setting your iPad aside.

Dropping your head in your hands, you slowly turned around and dared to look up only to see Steve Rogers in a superhero stance staring back at you. You’d forgotten all about it. Your childhood room was basically the same as it had been when you left two years ago. Now you were faced with Steve, along with several other movie star crushes plastered upon your walls, some of whom you had now met in person. Your first instinct was to be embarrassed, but honestly, they’d probably find it funny.

Glancing around the room, you took in all the small mementos and photos with memories tied to each one. It was a strange feeling to be back, but not a bad one. You never imagined you’d be having a conversation with your editor of two years in the room where back then your current reality was merely a pipe dream. It goes to show how far you had come.

Shaking your head, you climbed off the twin bed and got to your feet, straightening your skirt. You had settled on a black pencil skirt and a cream-colored blouse. Family was beginning to arrive, you gathered, hearing the murmurs of conversation below you. You stepped down the hall and descended the stairs to see faces turning your way. There were exclamations of “welcome home” and “you look great” and “I saw that movie of yours, it was way too violent”. You just smiled kindly and offered hugs. Family is family, no matter what.

Your mom came out of the kitchen and embraced you as well, even though she had seen you less than 20 minutes ago. Not that you minded. You were soaking up all the hugs and enjoying the limited time you had here. Heaven knows L.A. isn’t big on genuine hugs, more like handshakes or if you knew the person well, air kisses on each cheek.

Moving through the entryway, you finally made your way into the living room to see bouquets of flowers surrounding a large photo of your recently departed Uncle Nick. He may not have been a blood relative, but you still considered him family. He always had a bit of a scowl on his face, but deep down you knew he was a softy.

The funny thing was, no one really knew what he did for a living. He would disappear for months on end and then return as if nothing had happened, sometimes a little worse for the wear. He always came home with incredible stories to tell, though. Always telling harrowing tales of great adventures and daring escapes, as a child you hung on his every word. Now as an adult, you realized he may have been exaggerated slightly, but honestly, his stories were partly why you became obsessed with action films and story telling.

The biggest story of his life, though, was still a mystery. According to your mom, Uncle Nick’s body couldn’t even be release because of “security reasons”, so there was no burial this weekend. Instead, tonight was an informal, intimate gathering and tomorrow was the official memorial at the church.

Difficult as it was to unplug and turn off that part of your brain that wanted to fixate on everything you needed to be doing back in L.A., you did your best to be in the moment and stay focused on what was important. In fact, the only reason you had to check in with Tony was because you had been unintentionally ignoring his messages the past few days. You could blame that on the lack of both cell service and wifi, and perhaps also a handsome mechanic who never failed to put a smile on your face whenever he popped into your mind. Which was fairly often, to be honest.

Someone tapped you on the shoulder then, bringing you out of your thoughts, and you turned to see Maria’s kind face. She asked about L.A. and wondered if you had a chance to use the hair kit she had gifted you before you left town. You were actually able to say yes, smiling at the memory of running your fingers through Bucky’s chestnut locks in that motel bathroom. You didn’t mention that part to her, though. She brought you up to speed on the hair salon and her growing kids. One last embrace and she let you go as the next person caught your attention.

The evening was exhausting and emotionally draining, a few tears falling when stories of Nick were shared. As you ascended the stairs and got ready for bed at the end of the night, your thoughts swirled around the word “home”. It’s not always just the place you live, and although family can also help make that distinction, another phrase continued to resurface in your mind: Home is where the heart is. Somehow, without even meaning to, there’s a chance you had left your heart in a small town four hours east of where you stood. What that meant for your future, you really couldn’t say just yet.

_________________

The memorial service was lovely. Nick Fury was a private man, but each person whose life he touched had a story about him. There were tears as well as laughter, keeping his spirit alive with each memory shared. There was a luncheon afterward and nearly everyone in town showed up. You saw one familiar face across the room and headed his way, then slugging the man’s arm as you came to his side.

“Ow! What was that for?” Brock exclaimed, clutching his ‘injury’. “You know this is a memorial service, right? Isn’t violence frowned upon?”

“So is selling cars with the knowledge that it has a cracked radiator, dillweed,” you retaliated with a hard look. You had gone to high school with Brock, so your interactions tended to involve childish insults. He always was a bit of a shady character.

He at least had the decency to look a little guilty. “Y/N, I…”

“Forget it,” you cut him off, softening your tone slightly. “You’re lucky it worked in my favor. BUT. If you do that to anyone else, I’ll hunt you down, Rumlow. You hear me?” you threatened, holding his gaze.

His mouth gaped open to speak, but he then just nodded.

“Okay, then,” you answered, then walking away as quickly as you came.

After the memorial service on Saturday you stayed one last night with your mom, but then had to fly out Sunday to start your work week. So badly you wished you could have made the drive again and run back into Bucky’s arms, but you knew it would be even harder to say goodbye with such short a time together.

You called him from the airport, making him promise to keep his phone on him from now on and to charge it each night. Apparently, he had a bad habit of letting it die and forgetting about it for days on end in the past. There was so much you wanted to say, but you knew that now you could say it all over time. You were in it for the long haul.  

Soaring through the sky at 35,000 feet, you looked down and tried to imagine that you could see the tiny dot of a town just off the highway with part of you wishing you were there. As the clouds parted, you thought back on the small towns you had spent the past few days in and realized that you now had a soft spot for them despite trying so hard to leave them not too long ago. After all, your memories lined the walls of a house filled with family in one of them and now your heart resided in another.

_________________

Four Months Later

“I know that a cliffhanger is just a matter of speech but sometimes it can be literal, I mean that’s how that term came to be, right?” you asked out loud, which was slightly odd, considering you were alone.

You were deep into one of your writing sessions, but got stuck on a plot point so you decided to talk it out. Sometimes just voicing your thoughts to an empty room would shake another idea loose enough to move forward.

“Okay, so an actual cliff…but how does he get there….is it near water? Where did I put the location notes?” you continued to mutter, scanning your plot board for the information you sought. Just then, your phone chirped indicating a text message. Usually, you would silence your phone while writing or even leave it in a different room, but when you were waiting to hear from Bucky, you muted everyone except him.

Picking up, you saw the message and grinned.

Hey doll. Writing ok?

Bucky’s texting abilities had improved quite a bit, considering sometimes that was the only way you got to talk. Phone calls were harder to pin down, especially when you were on a deadline.

Pretty good. How’s the shop?

Slow today. Package 4 me?

You squealed then, hurrying to peck out a reply.

Yes! It came!! Don’t open yet, please! A few more hours of work and I’ll call.

10?

Perfect.

You glanced at the clock to see it was about 4:30pm your time and he was 2 hours ahead, so that gave you some time to write and eventually eat something before you could call him. Now with something to look forward, your conviction was renewed as you stared at your notes and dove back in to writing with a smile on your face.

_____________

“Hey, gorgeous. It’s really good to hear your voice. It’s been what, a week?” Bucky asked, his husky voice coming through the phone. You might have woken him, but you knew he didn’t mind. Neither of you wanted to miss out on a single moment of your time together, limited as it was.

“Hi, handsome. I know, it’s been too long. I’m sorry, this script, though! Ugh!!” you groaned dramatically, falling backwards onto your comfy couch away from your writing room. You tried to separate your work and home life, even though they often occurred under the same roof.

He chuckled under his breath. “It’s okay, babe. I understand. So what’s this about a package?” he asked, intrigued.

Straightening up in your seat, you squealed again in excitement. You’d had this planned for weeks and now he could finally see it for himself. “Okay, so go ahead and open it, but I don’t want you to think it’s a needlessly expensive thing cause it’s not. I mean, it’s just as much a gift to me as it is to you,” you vaguely explained as you heard the sounds of packing tape being severed with most likely the pocket knife Bucky kept handy at all times.

“Okay?” he answered, confused, until you heard the rustling of paper stop. “You bought me a…Apple?”

“Yes, it’s an iPad from Apple, just like mine. And before you say that it’s too much and that I shouldn’t have, first of all, I didn’t. It was in a grab bag at a swanky party a while back. And yes, I should have, and you will agree once you see what it can do. Also you got a really good deal on wifi for the next few months, thanks to Clint’s cousin. He set it up.”

He huffed out a sigh, resigned. “Well, I guess I can’t argue then, can I? So what do I do with it?”

“Okay. So, the round button in the middle should be at the bottom. The on button will be at the top, so click that and the screen should light up.”

He did as you instructed and then followed your directions to swipe to the right, unlocking the device. You set it up so he didn’t have to enter a security code. Best to keep it simple. He then pressed a finger on the small icon of an “S” in a blue circle as you requested, followed by selecting the words ‘sign in’. Smiling, you pressed the call button on your own iPad and heard the echo of the tell-tale ringing through your phone.

“What the…is that…?” you heard Bucky’s confused voice until his handsome face came into focus.

“Hi, there, Sexy,” you cooed, grinning at your boyfriend through the camera before hanging up your phone, which was no longer necessary.

“Y/N? Oh wow…you’re right, this is the best gift ever,” he beamed at you with those favorite eye wrinkles of his making an appearance. “Thank you so much, babe.”

“You’re so welcome, hot stuff. I thought you’d like a little more face time,” you smirked, wiggling your eyebrows.

He laughed at that, the iPad shaking in his grasp before his expression became serious. “God, I miss you, doll.”

He shifted on the couch up to sitting and raised the camera to eye level. Bucky looked as attractive as ever, even with the faint couch pattern on his right cheek. He must have fallen asleep watching another movie that you had recommended. Movies gave you more to talk about besides how much you missed each other, plus Bucky loved that you were sharing one of your passions with him. Luckily Darcy was a great resource for movies.

“I miss you, too,” you uttered with a sad smile that then brightened. “However…part of why I wanted to video chat was because I want to ask you something face to face. Ready?”

“Ask away.”

“Well, you remember that project I was working on a few months ago?” He nodded in response and you continued. “Oddly enough, the shoot went smoothly and post-production is coming to an end ahead of schedule. It’s an Indie film, lower budget, but with a few higher profile stars and some of that Stark publicity magic, it’s actually getting some attention.”

“That’s great, Y/N!” he responded, genuinely excited for you. “You haven’t told me much about it, though. Keeping things under wraps still?”

“Actually…” you began, “that’s because I want you to experience it firsthand. With me. The premiere is in six weeks and it would mean the world to me if you came, Buck.”

“Um…wow,” he uttered, eyes wide in shock. “You want me to visit you in L.A.? Is this a whole red carpet thing, cause I…”

“No, no,” you interrupted. “I mean, yes, there will be a red carpet, but I’m not at all obligated to show up that way. We could arrive quietly and leave right after, if you want. I know it sounds like a big ordeal, but this movie is important to me and all I want is to have you next to me. That’s all.”

He paused to consider. “I don’t know. The shop…”

“…is doing great now, you said it yourself. DumDum can handle things for a few days and Peter is a great help, right? This gives you enough time to square things away and let them know about anything that might come up if you’re gone. I can fly you in, but if you’re not comfortable with that, you could make the drive. Please, Bucky?” You knew you were in the territory of almost begging, but this was a big step to take for Bucky. It was important that he knew you had thought of everything and while you would take no for an answer, you definitely didn’t want to.

You saw him stare off into the distance, scrubbing a hand over his whiskered face before responding.

“Okay.”

“What?” you cried out, rising to your feet. “Really? You’ll come?”

“Of course, doll. You’ve made the trip out here a few times now and I should meet you half way, too. I’ll admit, I’m nervous about it, but I want to support you. Yes, I’ll be there. And I’ll make the drive. I could use a little wind in my hair, I suppose,” he said, unleashing that devilishly handsome grin.  

A high-pitched squeal escaped from you again, nearly losing your grip on your iPad as you danced about the living room. Bucky’s laughter rang out through your device. And he was right, you had made two trips out to see him twice since you reconnected. Now you were ecstatic he would be heading your way soon.

“Okay, okay,” you settled back on the couch, having finally contained yourself. “So I have a plan…”

_______________

5 Weeks Later

The gift of being able to Skype face to face became part of your weekly routine as often as possible. You started a tradition of cooking and eating dinner together as you Skyped, even coordinating having the same meal at times. You were trying to cook more healthy meals at home and rely less on takeout.

It just felt good to talk, continuing to get to know each other and feel that comfort of having someone to come home to, even if it was only through a screen. After a while, you needed a bit more than talk. You couldn’t help it, though. Things eventually escalated to more risqué behavior as you shared intimate moments alone, but together, when all you wanted was to be in his arms.

Thankfully, the wait was almost over. Through the past month, you had been planning Bucky’s trip out to come and see you for the premiere you were so excited to show him your home and the most beautiful parts of the city.

Back when you were just starting out, sharing a small apartment with roommates was the ideal scenario. You were barely squeaking by at times to pay rent and expenses as you worked odd jobs. Even after you had sold your first script, it took months before you actually saw any money. Once you had a more steady income and royalties, you were still frugal and saved most of what you made. On rare occasions, you would splurge on a stylist and hair and makeup team just for the night when a big event came up that you were asked to attend.

Your one big purchase was a down payment on a gorgeous condo in Malibu with a breathtaking view of the ocean on one side and the Los Angeles valley on the other. You needed the peace and quiet for writing and you had earned it. Steve had actually helped you move in a few months before you headed home unexpectedly and that was when everything changed. You had heard through mutual friends that he was doing really well, working steadily and even dating someone. Steve deserved that happiness and you wished him nothing but the best. He had been so good to you and even had encouraged you to try again with Bucky. You would be forever grateful to Steve for that.

Puttering around the kitchen as you made dinner, you couldn’t stop yourself from glancing at the clock every few minutes. You had heard from Bucky while on the road and he should be arriving within the hour. Your heart sped up a little, imagining Bucky driving through the streets of the city you now called home as the distance between you all but disappeared. He had made the drive in good time, stopping where you had recommended as you remembered the first time you headed this way.

Turning on some music, you focused on the recipe before you and tried to distract yourself from the ticking clock. A short while later, you heard the rumble of a car’s engine getting louder, but not one you recognized. Turning off the stove, you walked to the window overlooking the street to see a sleek black car parked in your driveway. When you saw who stepped out of the driver’s seat, you lost all composure. Tearing down the steps to the first floor and then throwing open your front door, you rushed across the lawn in your bare feet before launching yourself into his arms.

Bucky caught you easily as you wrapped arms around his neck and legs around his waist, your lips finding his in a furiously passionate kiss, conveying all the pent-up emotions between you. You both muttered sweet nothings to each other without breaking contact, finally releasing your legs to stand when you realized you were giving your neighbors quite the show and they might get more of one if you didn’t take a step back.

“Hi. You made it,” you said with a laugh, beaming.

“I did,” he said with a chuckle. “Made good time, too. Just couldn’t wait any longer to get to you,” he admitted, capturing your lips in another kiss.

Breaking apart, you finally took in the vehicle that had brought him here with a wide smile. “Is that what I think it is?”

He smirked then, turning towards the car but keeping an arm around your waist. “Yup. The Impala.”

________________

Part 11>>>

__________________________________________________________

**cue Impala gif and screaming** That’s exactly what I wrote when I finished this part. haha!! OH my gosh, I’m still so taken with this story. I hope you are, too. I have two more parts planned, I think! I love you guys and every single word you send my way. Thank you for going on this journey with me. You’re the best! :)

Permanent Tag List and LTT Tag list are CLOSED. I’M SORRY. 

Permanent Tags: 

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[yeaharrys]

Finding Finley / Chapter Three

“Oh Finley, when was the last time you seriously dated someone? You’re almost 24, I’m just trying to jump start something!”

“Wow, I didn’t know being 23 and single is a crime now.”

For Finley O'Connor, love comes second, much to her mother’s dismay. For Harry Styles, life couldn’t revolve without love. When the pair are set up on a blind date, they make a pact to help each other get the thing that is apparently missing from their lives. But how long will it take for them to realise what truly is missing?

A story about being 23, blind dates, and finding who you truly are.

read on wattpad or read on tumblr

Chapter Three: The Friend Request

Saturday mornings were my favourite. It was my one of my only chances of being completely alone in my flat and therefore one of my only chances of solitude. So, despite the fact that I rolled into bed in a drunken state not long after midnight after walking home from the station, I still forced my tired self out of bed when my alarm chirped at 7am.

In theory, having a flatmate seems like an awesome idea. You have someone to split rent and bills costs, someone to help with the household chores, someone to come home to. In practice, however, it's not so simple. Alice was my flatmate, and calling her intense would be putting it lightly. I found her advertisement for a flatmate in the local paper and on a whim decided to follow up on it. The flat was great, good location and spacious. I signed on to the one year lease with her almost immediately. This is something I would come to regret in the following weeks.

Alice was a clean freak. A no-food-in-the-bedroom, no-drinks-without-a-coaster, no-items-in-the-cupboard-without-a-label type of clean freak. And while it was endearing at first, five months later and I was almost always on edge when I was at home. One thing out of place, and Alice would be shooting me daggers and making my life all that much crappier for the rest of the week. So, that's why I came to cherish Saturday mornings. Alice always worked the Saturday morning shift at one of the local cafés so that meant I had until 12pm to relax around the flat before going to hole myself up in my room for the rest of the week, the only relatively Alice-free zone.

I shuffled into the immaculately clean kitchen and grabbed the loaf of sliced bread from the freezer (labelled WHOLEGRAIN, EXP: 18 SEP 2017) and threw two pieces into the toaster before boiling some water. A good cup of tea would immediately scrub the hazy state my mind was currently in. Whilst I wasn't hungover, the shots last night meant I woke up with a small ache in the back of my head. The lack of sleep probably didn't help either.

Once my tea was sufficiently brewed and my toast coated in peanut butter (EXP: 11 JAN 2018), I settled myself on the lounge and pulled up my laptop. The real reason I loved Saturday mornings so much was that it was one of my only peaceful, distraction-free times to write. Script writing to be specific. It started as a topic of interest when I began to expand my film watching horizons as a teen, and three elective classes at uni later had me hooked. I was completely enamoured with the fact that every great movie started with a great script. Whilst it was just a hobby, I couldn't help but love crafting and blocking out scenes of my wildest imaginations. And whilst writing had become an important part of my life, I preferred to keep my hobby on the down low. This made those few hours of being home alone all that more precious. These past few weeks I had been re-working my own version of How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. After spending a lonely Friday night watching it on Netflix I was struck with inspiration and decided to take the characters into my own hands.

Whilst munching on my toast, I clicked through and deleted any unimportant emails, checked my iMessage as I couldn't be bothered getting my phone from my bedside table and logged onto Facebook. I made it a point to check my social media, mainly as my mum insisted on tagging me in as many posts as possible and if I didn't promptly reply I would have a phone call from her asking why I was ignoring her.

This morning there was only 2 notifications. And, to my surprise, a friend request. I clicked on the illuminated red (1) and audibly laughed when I saw who it was. Harry Styles. I pressed accept without hesitation, and against better judgement, clicked onto his profile.

I caught myself smiling as his full profile loaded up. His profile picture featured him grinning cheekily at the camera, his arm thrown around a boy with blonde hair who was gripping a pint of beer. I scrolled down his page, various photos and posts littering his wall. I saw the same three or four faces cropping up with Harry, it definitely looked like he had a close knit group of friends.

I had scrolled all the way back to 2014 when I saw a picture of Harry with a girl. A quick glance at who was tagged confirmed that it was Isabel. Gorgeous was an understatement. Her hair, a light shade of brown with a perfect amount of golden highlights, was cascading down over one of her shoulders. She was wearing a simple red dress, but on her it looked tailor made. It was a candid shot, both of them looking into each others eyes with their faces split into laughing grins. You could feel the love radiating from them both just from looking at the photo. It was almost hard to believe that two years later they would be broken up.

I was just about to close the tab when a message box popped up at the bottom of the page. I almost spilt my tea when I saw who it was, like he knew I had just spent the past 20 minutes thoroughly combing through his Facebook profile.

Harry Styles: well hello there, early riser

I chuckled to myself, my fingers hovering over the keys as I formulated a response.

Finley O'Connor: hello stranger. same can be said to you, i'm surprised you are awake after all those shots

Harry Styles: you may be shocked to hear that i can actually handle my alcohol

Harry Styles: i was almost afraid you weren't going to accept my friend request

Finley O'Connor: i'll be honest, i almost didn't accept based on the fact that you had already found my profile without me even telling you my full name last night. stalker abilities on point?

Harry Styles: hahahaha

Harry Styles: i will also be honest, i knew your last name before we even met last night. your aunty basically gave my mum your birth certificate lol

Harry Styles: i also may have stalked you on fb before last night. felt like i shouldnt add you until i met you though, didn't want to be a creep

Finley O'Connor: ah, so that's how you knew who i was when i walked in last night. creep status has definitely achieved

Harry Styles: oh don't act like you havent just been stalking my profile

Harry Styles: i know i have on yours. did you enjoy tea at the langham last month?

I laughed. At least I felt a little better about my shameless Facebook stalking.

Finley O'Connor: omg

Finley O'Connor: how do i block people on facebook???

Finley O'Connor: just kidding. i scrolled back to 2014 so beat that

I decided to move from the lounge to my favourite writing spot, the dining table. At this time of the morning, the sun was always at the perfect angle to warm my back as I typed away. I settled into the chair, opening up the Word Doc containing my work in progress. Before I could type a word though, the Facebook message tone blipped.

Harry Styles: find anything interesting?

I contemplated for a moment whether I should mention the Isabel photo. Considering how candid Harry ended up being about his relationship last night, I figured it wasn't unapproachable territory.

Finley O'Connor: yes, actually. an old photo of you and isabel

I stared expectantly at the small chat box, waiting for the dots to appear to signify he was responding. The seconds ticked by and I began chewing my lip. Perhaps a wrong move? I clicked back to my half written script, trying not to fixate on something so small. However, when the message tone pinged again a couple minutes later, I scrambled to click back to the page.

Harry Styles: yeah there's still a few photos scattered through there, ones she hasn't deleted yet anyways

I didn't know how to respond. I could sense it was still a touchy subject, not that I blamed him. But, he ended up responding for me.

Harry Styles: speaking of....

Harry Styles: we're you serious about what you suggested last night? i know we were both a little tipsy...

I raised my eyebrows. I had forgotten about the drunken pact we had made on the Croydon platform late last night. I actually had some second-hand embarrassment from the idea I had hatched, why did I even think it was a good idea?

Finley O'Connor: oh that pact thing? we don't actually have to do that lol. just a bit of a laugh you know

Harry Styles: what?? no i already have someone in mind to set you up with

Now it was my turn to delay a response. Was he being serious? Was this something I should actually involve myself into? I mean, I had met Harry once and all of the sudden I'm supposed to trust his taste in men for me? And on top of that, he's supposed to trust me to help him win back his ex-girlfriend? I was half-wishing I could've just kept my drunken mouth shut last night.

Harry Styles: hello?? fin?????

Finley O'Connor: i mean.... if you're really serious about it, then sure

I hoped I wasn't going to live to regret this.

Harry Styles: brilliant

Harry Styles: wanna grab a coffee? discuss logistics??

My eyes flickered over to the time displayed in the top left hand corner of my laptop. It had just ticked past 8am, meaning I had 4 hours of non-Alice time ahead of me. Coffee would cut into that. I sighed as I clicked back over to my half-written script, my eyes skimming over the last few lines I had typed out. I guess I could miss my writing session for one week.

Finley O'Connor: have somewhere in mind?

apologies for a short chapter, i decided to split it up, hopefully this wasn’t too boring for you?? let me know your thoughts! thanks for reading :)

[goldenscript]

wips tag.

i was tagged by @workofteaguk and @wonhopes to share my works in progress, since it’s really no surprise that i have ten million wips but enjoy these ones i’ve been working on so far i thought i’d share with everyone else what i have cooking up so far! also, thank you guys for tagging me (”: <333

title: i hate you, (but of course) i love you pairing: jeon jungkook | reader genre: exes au, fluff, humor, a dash of angst status: currently standing at 4.3k, probably about 80% done. i have two more section to write with lots more bickering between the two. (((: preview: —

“—What the fuck?” he says, finally getting a proper look at the silver on both of their wrists. His head still pounds at the sudden thought, but he suddenly recalls the pair of handcuffs that Jin was swinging around last night. They weren’t anything special, but the older man was flaunting them around with his own brand of drunken smugness. It was a rare first to see his older friend with a such a bold pair of items but an even rarer to see him so piss-drunk. How did he—

“Shut the fuck up,” he hears Y/N grumble. Without another second, you begin to turn away from him before the yank at both of their wrists stops further movement. “Ow! What the—”

“Take my wrist apart, why dontcha,” he grumbles back, attempting to yank you back to your back position. “I’d appreciate keeping it, thank you very much.”

He barely blinks his eye by the time you shoot right up in the bed, clutching your head as you turn to him in disbelief. “What the fuck?! Jeon, what did you do?”

“Me?!” he says, wincing at his own volume. “I’m innocent, I just woke up handcuffed to Chewbacca. Thanks for asking.”

“Chewbacca… this brat,” you scoff, giving his arm a shove while clutching the top of your head with the other.

“I didn’t do this,” he answers your unsaid question, feeling his heart pound. Like old times, only frustration seemed to come with you. “Maybe one of the guys did it or somethin’.”

“Fuck, I’m never drinking at the same party as you again,” you groan, shooting him another look before your head slammed back onto his pillow. “And I’m definitely going to kill Jin for bringing these stupid things, too.”

Then, it hit him and his own groaning and head-slamming ensued—god, why the fuck did he agree to a drinking competition with you?

(more wips under the cut~) 

title: chatroom confessions pairing: jeon jungkook | reader genre: childhood rivals au, fluff, some angst status: at about 4.1k, only 20% done. i have the outline finished, i just need to go on with the act of writing this thing. preview: —

The next time you log on, he’s on.

It’s not even the same time as before.Your clock reads 8:03 PM right now.

But there it is, the little green symbol besides his username. The sight is foreboding, practically beckoning you to click the user and say something, anything.

You find some bravery in tapping on the icon, your fingers already tapping away—

[8:06 PM] peachy-keen: I don’t know or care if this is Jungkook or not but come clean already

Unfortunately, you can’t even find the rest of your courage to press send. You want to say something at the least. But what?

Do I say? ‘Hey, Y/N here. Remember me from 6th grade? Yeah, you totally crushed my little grade school heart.’ Or ‘Hey, is this Jungkook or was this one of Lisa’s friends fucking with me?’ Or-

You don’t even have a moment to finish your thought when a ding! emits from your laptop’s speakers.

[8:07 PM] blue_seagull: long time, no see

You blink, letting out a shaky breath before typing up an immediate response. Here goes nothing.

[8:07 PM] peachy-keen: uh, yeah

[8:08 PM] blue_seagull: Still don’t think it’s me?

[8:08 PM] peachy-keen: No

[8:09 PM] blue_seagull: How can I prove it?

[8:09 PM] peachy-keen: I’d have to see your face.

[8:10 PM] blue_seagull: [photo.jpg sent]

The photo looks relatively like the Jungkook you remember from the vaguest parts of your mind. As begrudging as you are to admit to the fact, he’s actually quite handsome. His mop of dark hair sitting atop his forehead is no longer the same bowl cut like seven years ago. His features have definitely filled out too. Even his smile has become even nicer than you remember. And it isn’t completely foreign anyway.

You’ve seen a photo or two from mutual friends’ Instagram photos, but you’re still not completely sold in this case. In this day and age, this could be that same person catfishing as Jungkook. You’re about to type something along those lines in your response, but you erase it and laugh after reading his next message.

[8:11 PM] blue_seagull: I’m gonna take a guess and say you think the picture is a catfish

[8:11 PM] peachy-keen: duh.

[8:11 PM] blue_seagull: okay, skype me then

[8:12 PM] blue_seagull: guk_0901

Perhaps it’s dangerous to do something like this. Skyping some complete stranger and all. But then again, it was dangerous to chat with a complete stranger too. It isn’t like there’s much to lose at this point. You heave out a sigh, shrugging your shoulders and mutter something along the lines of “Fuck it” before you give him your response.  

[8:15 PM] peachy-keen: Sure, whatever.

Once you’re logged into your Skype account, you type in the username that “Jungkook” has provided you. The icon is a different photo than the one he sent you, but it’s still the same boy. Just that observation alone makes you realize just how nervous you are. Of course, this is expected. You’re actually not sure what’s going to come from this call. You don’t even know if you’ll actually be seeing Jungkook or someone else from your old elementary school.

A part of you prays it’s him, but another part doesn’t just for the sake of your own feelings. Way too many things happened back then.

At least I’ll be able to get some answers out of it… right?

You press the call icon, watching as the rings come to a halt after the first two chimes and Jeon Jungkook appears on the screen of your laptop.

Again, he’s the first one to speak. This time an almost all-knowing smile curves on his smiles as he says, “Believe me yet?”

You’re actually left a little baffled at this moment. Your lips parting slightly to say words, your mind’s racing a million miles per hour, before you say something, “Um… yeah…” You pause for a moment, calming yourself as you suddenly recollect the intent of why you logged on in the first place, “You have some explaining to do.”

He lets out a soft chuckle, his features softening as he nods, “I figured.”

title: where the lines overlap. pairing: jeon jungkook | reader, park jimin | reader genre: band au + romance, angst status: standing at 2.1k, 2% done. LOL. it’s a series i have in the works, so bear with me. i’m trying to get it done right. preview: —

a year and a half ago.

You wanted to get far, far away from everything so you ran.

At that point, you were sure you had run off a good five blocks from the cursed music building, allowing your lungs to collapse and expand in random intervals. It felt like everything had collapsed around you, and perhaps it did in many respects. What the fuck could you do? Go with it? Let yourself shed the weights of your own band mates after all the blood, sweat, and tears you all spent trying to get to where you were?

That thought alone had you shaking your head, running a shaky palm through your locks as you searched for solace somewhere. It had to be there right? Or did it even exist there at all?

You couldn’t even fathom where you were because this was nowhere close to the five blocks you spent sightseeing with everyone else. You didn’t see the other music buildings or the small corner convenience stores that proved their worth during strenuous practices leaving you and the others drained—was it that hard to be perfect, after all?

Bang’s face flashed across your mind, his disappointment at the lack of practice earlier that day. There’s a deep set frown etched into his weathered skin, eyes narrowed as Yoongi tried to reason your way through the mess and how it became slits when you dared defending your mint-haired companion. The older man grunted, “Fix this; whatever the hell it is. Just fix it.” So, you ran after another screaming match with Jungkook.

You just ran the moment you could because what else could you do?

Bang was mad, Jungkook was mad, Taehyung was confused, and Yoongi was watching it unfold like a spectator, and you? You were confused, scared, and you needed air.

Fuck—, you wheezed, plopping down by the end of the path. At this point, you didn’t even care for the dirt that stained your jeans or the funny looks you received from passersby. You didn’t really care for anything right then. You just wanted your heart to stop trying to escape your chest.

You felt your phone vibrate against your leg, but you didn’t even bother looking at it. Instead you tried to familiarize yourself with the view before you. There was a cluster of vendors offering goods, all sorts of kebabs, milk teas, and even sweet creams; all of them without a care in the world. You saw an arcade filling up with children shrieking for money and for a turn on the machines. Behind you, there was a food shop, wafting the distilled air with fresh soup and customers filling the air with chatter and inquiries. It was all busy, all moving forward, and there you were, suspended in time like a ghostly spectator because like many times before you were just a nameless face.

The sky was a bright blue hue, cerulean really, with wisps of clouds peeking between passing intervals as they seemed to move while everyone else remained still down below. You could feel the sun beat against your slick skin, clinging to you like a second layer as you found your erratic heart calming down.

What you see before you was normalcy, tranquility. Things you wish you had again.

You rose from your spot, giving the scene a final once over before you willed your legs to move up the incline toward the cliff that hung over the rest of the city. There was something therapeutic in all of this though you hardly believed you deserved any relief knowing the things you knew. By the time you felt yourself stop and rest against the burning metal beneath your elbows, you were still thinking.

Dammit. Closing your eyes, you tried to will the pressing thoughts away. I should tell him shouldn’t I?

But if you did, you’d risk more than just the sake of your relationship. You’d risk his dream. The only dream that Jungkook has ever had, and you’d be the one to rip it away from him. You hoped he’d find his own aspirations… out of everyone, you didn’t think you could do that. You pushed him to do this after all.

You said aloud, hearing the hoarse edges, “Fuck—” 

You swore you heard something off to your right but when you braved a look around you, it was just an unwelcome sight of visitors beneath the safety of a gazebo. It was just a family, celebrating amongst themselves. They thankfully paid you no attention, opting for the fascinations of their own food and devices than some random girl trying to figure out what her next move was.

I could just lea—

You heard your phone ring this time, vibrating against your back pocket and interrupting the daring thought—whether you actually appreciated it or feared it was still beyond you. Rather than thinking further, you decided to pull out the plastic device, hoping to God it wasn’t Jungkook.

It wasn’t, so you slid your fingertip across the screen to answer.

You released out a deep breath, “Yoongi—”

“—Lemme guess you ran off to clear your thoughts?” He wouldn’t sound worried to anyone, straight tone and all, but you heard the edge in his voice.

“I did.”

“He’s worried, y’know,” It made the reality of the situation wash over you, taking its hold on you as you tried to wrestle with the next set of words waiting to part your lips—

“I’m going to leave the city.”

“Y/N,” There was a deeper edge to his voice, a warning laced between the syllables of your own name, “where are you?”

“Enjoying the view.”

title: beneath the surface pairing: kim taehyung | reader genre: ??? status: outline is 75% done and i have barely less than 1k written so that’s maybe 1.5% done. preview: —

With the door shut tight behind you, you’re given a choice between two options: stay awake and talk about the kiss or pretend to sleep and deal with it tomorrow. Because out of all people, you know that Kim Taehyung would breach the topic no matter what as it was in his very nature go for what was uncomfortable even if he had a hard time doing this himself; and, as much as you’d like to do this, to debunk whatever happened in that split second where all you could taste was the cherry Coke on his lips, you can’t bring yourself to do it. Especially not when your mind is whirling about in discordant thoughts all seemingly screaming for more when you should be doing no such thing.

It happened. It was just the heat of the moment. You turn on your side and lean your head onto your arm. Now stop thinking about it.

But it’s like your brain wants to taunt you with a reminder of what just passed: all that plays is the close proximity of Taehyung’s visage a hair’s breadth from yours, his deep, chocolate brown eyes soft from the reminiscing over a distant past that the two of you once shared together, back when times were simpler—at least as simple as college could get—when all you two ever worried about was midterms and final examinations and the Final Reckoning enacted by your parents at the end of each school year, while the scent of mint and sugar fanned across your features. Just sitting beside him, knees brushing against one another and feeling the heat radiating from his lean body, you felt your heart thundering and your mind swimming with two simple words: Kiss him. Then you did and he did too. And it’s all that remains burned into your mind, because holy fuck we kissed.     

You find yourself recalling the day when you doodled the simple cloud to him, embellishing it with his username in hopes that it would give him strength to follow his dreams like you were following yours, and you see the way he lit up and pulled you in tight. The thick scent of eucalyptus shrouded you, and yet you enjoyed every moment of it, allowing it all to put you at ease despite the fire burning in your own heart. It’s the same feeling now, burning even brighter and hotter, because under these pretenses, you actually have no fucking clue what overcame you or him to do it. All you know is you felt something with the brunet, perhaps nostalgia or connection in ways that seemed to date back to high school all tightening around your own better judgement.

It’s wrong. I shouldn’t—

Hearing a knock at the door, your heart damn near jumps out of your chest but tension soon expels from your body. All you do is stay in place as the doorknob jiggles and footsteps make its way behind you.

“Y/N?” Taehyung whispers, leaning over the bed frame. When you don’t reply and all he can see are your shut eyes, he lets out a deep sigh. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow then.”

The certainty that he would leave the room is soon dispelled the moment you hear him shuffle onto your side of the bed albeit the arrival comes after a few moments—you’re almost certain he stopped by your desk—when he grabs onto the edge of your comforter and pulls it over your legs and onto your torso. He’s careful not to touch any parts, his warm touch only grazing your shoulders as he covers you. All the while, he’s humming a song—one you’re unfamiliar with—that soothes your mind.

“Good night, Y/N… sweet dreams.”

As he turns off the lights and shuts the door behind him, you feel yourself basking in the scent of eucalyptus and drifting to sleep with a smile curved on your lips, Good night Tae… sweet dreams.

i tag: @sugaspen @jamlessness @jungnoir (idc if other ppl tagged u, i’ma still tag u) @taechubs

{ of course, you don’t have to do this!! but if you do (this goes out to anyone reading this far), feel free to tag me!!! }

[dovesdanceatdusk]

Ooh, tag game. Thanks, @littlesistersam​ for tagging me. :) 

THE LAST:

1. Drink: Lemonade  2. Phone call: Mom 3. text message: Ah! Thank you!! 4. song you listened to: “Brick Ballades - Houston Street” by Toshihiko Sahashi 5. time you cried: uh . . . hmm. Last time I remember crying, I saw the aftermath from the Manchester bombing on the news. ( ._.) 6. dated someone twice: Kind of. Well, it depends. First time we hinted it was a date even though we weren’t official; second time was an official date. I guess if it was officially dated someone twice, the answer would be no. Same person. Didn’t date him after that.  7. kissed someone and regretted it: NBK 8. been cheated on: Can’t confirm that. Maybe? No? 9. lost someone special: Yes.  10. been depressed: mmhmm 11. gotten drunk and thrown up: Oh yeah. LIST 3 FAVOURITE COLOURS: 12-14. Sky Blue, Lilac, Wine Red (or Berry depending on the person) IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU: 15. made new friends: Yep. Also reunited with old friends recently so, hooray! 16. fallen out of love: Nope. Haven’t fallen in love with anyone last year. 17. laughed until you cried: Ha! Yes! Laughed until I cried, made squeaky sounds, laid down on my side, and had an asthma attack. Good times, my friend. Good times.  18. found out someone was talking about you: Yep. *sighs*  19. met someone who changed you: I think there have been a few people in the last year that changed me in some way. Subtle. Opened my world view, led me to challenge my perspective. That kind of thing. So, yep.  20. found out who your friends are: Sadly, yes. But there is good in that. I also found out who stuck around. Hooray for good friends! 21. kissed someone on your Facebook list: Nope. See no. 7. GENERAL: 22. how many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: Percentage-wise, about 90%.  23. do you have any pets: Yep. An algae eater, a catfish, and a guinea pig.  24. do you want to change your name: Nah, I like my name. 25. what did you do for your last birthday: Fought allergies. Drew a little bit. Talked on the phone with my sister. Replied back to relatives’ birthday wishes. Pondered about being another year older. Oh, realizing my grandmother is two months younger than Freddie Mercury. Yet that fact didn’t blow my mind until this past Wednesday? Regardless, pretty chill birthday. 26. what time did you wake up: 9:15 . . . ish? In the morning. 27. what were you doing at midnight last night: Tumblr, wrote a few words for two WIPs, researched. Watched Beat Bobby Flay because I am weak when it comes to cooking competition shows. Listened to some music. Uhhhh . . . that’s all I remember.  28. name something you can’t wait for: 1) Go to a comic con, 2) Move forward and leave the past in the past. 3) Get to a better state in life, even though there are no guarantees and life is a cycle of ups and downs. 4) A decent movie about immortals that isn’t about vampires and superheroes, and isn’t a reboot of the Highlander series (stop rebooting films that didn’t need to come back in the present time, Hollywood). 5) Rare planetary alignment when parallel universes are thin enough you can see through to the other side. No, sorry about that, I could wait for 5. I mean, think about the cosmic consequences of blending universes. Or not. Really don’t know the consequences because I wouldn’t (don’t) know which universe would blend with ours.  29. when was the last time you saw your mom: Few hours ago. 31. what are you listening to right now: Nothing, music-wise. Concentrating on this. Other sounds? The ceiling fan. Laptop sounds; cooling pad hums. Plane flying overhead. Crickets chirping.  32. have you ever talked to a person named tom: Oddly no. Have talked to a handful of Tims and Timothys though. Perhaps this is the life where I do not talk to a Tom or Thomas? Oh, carp, wait a minute. Never mind. Yes, I have talked to a person named Tom. Old neighbor. He moved away a while back. Wow, okay. Brain, you a doing me a disservice.  33. something that is getting on your nerves: Setting off fireworks at three in the morning. Humidity raising temperatures up to hell adjacent discomfort. Ah, Hell heat. We’re almost there.  34. most visited website: ahahaha Tumblr. 38. hair colour: Black . . . ish? Dark brown. 39. long or short hair: Long. 40. do you have a crush on someone: Nope. 41. what do you like about yourself: I like figuring out puzzles. Also like I can still find something wonderful and surprising in the mundane. Find fun in the little things.  42. piercings: Earlobes.  43. blood type: I used to know (donated blood a while back and the American Red Cross gave me my blood donor card), but then my doctor confused me years later by telling me I have another blood type so . . . 50% chance one of those sources are right. Don’t know which one. Guess that’s a mystery to solve in the future.  44. nickname: I have one, but I rather not say. It does start with an “M.” 46. zodiac: Cancer 47. pronous: She/her 48. favourite tv show: Don’t have a favorite. Off the bat, I like Fargo, Stranger Things, Stargate SG-1, Preacher, Masterchef, Project Runway, Sense8, Voltron: LD, Mr. Robot, Fringe . . . there’s more, but I can’t think of them right now. Pretty sure I’m going to watch SPN until the end, so that’s a given.  49. tattoos: None. 50. right or left handed: Right handed. Used to be left handed when I was a kid but my grandma insisted I be taught to write with my right.   51. surgery: Nope. 53. sport: More like exercise. Walking, random dancing when no one’s home. Other than that, nope. 55. vacation: Travel stayed in the U.S., along the east coast. Want to go to New Zealand, Canada, Vermont, Japan . . . there are more, I’m sure.  56. pair of trainers: This is shoes, yes? I’m going to assume it’s shoes. Nike. Off brand shoes that are just as good as Nike.  MORE GENERAL 57. eating: Nothing right now.  58. drinking: Water.  59. i’m about to: Reply to another ask game.  61. waiting for: Nothing at the moment.  62. want: To figure out what I want to create next.  63. get married: Nah, not right now.  64. career: I want to go into publishing one day. Off the record, I want to create - painting and drawing mostly.  WHICH IS BETTER 65. hugs or kisses: Ooh, hugs. 66. lips or eyes: Eyes 67. shorter or taller: Taller 68. older or younger: Doesn’t matter. Both are good. 70. nice arms or nice stomach: Nice stomach. 72. hook up or relationship: Relationship 73. troublemaker or hesitant: Both. HAVE YOU EVER: 74. kissed a stranger: Nope. 75. drank hard liquor: Yep.  76. lost glasses/contact lenses: Yep. 77. turned someone down: Yeah.  78. sex on the first date: Nope.  79. broken someone’s heart: Pretty sure I had.  80. had your heart broken: Yes. 81. been arrested: Nope. 82. cried when someone died: Oh yeah. 83. fallen for a friend: Yep. Didn’t help I’m demi, so. DO YOU BELIEVE IN: 84. yourself: I try to. Nowadays, it’s easier to believe in myself, but it took a long time to get where I am now.  85. miracles: Yes.  86. love at first sight: For some people, yes. Otherwise, no.  87. santa claus: When I was a kid.  88. kiss on the first date: No. 89. angels: Not sure.  OTHER: 90. current best friend’s name: Julie. 91. eye colour: Brown.  92. favourite movie: Don’t have a favorite. Recent movie I enjoyed watching: Get Out. Wonder Woman. Ahhhhh . . . . that’s all I can think of right now. 

I tag anyone who wants to do this!

[danwritestuff]

tagged by @sparkiewrites​​ 

rules: answer these 85 statements and tag 20 people. ...you’d think i know 20 people here buuuut @viirgowrites @rjwrites @allywritestuff @amywriteswords @darklingsea @yonduuude @ashlaaaywrites @proserpinewrites​ 

the last

1. drink: water, i think

2. phone call: with my boyfriend about how my drunken family at a farewell dinner thing is insufferable.

3. text message: think i sent a msg to my friend to have fun at his rp game session?

4. song you listened to: future friends by superfruit

5. time you cried: I cried when I was drunk af and I thought about leaving my bf behind and then how drunk I am.

6. dated someone twice: you mean the same person two times or like was in a relationship with them, broke up and then started dating again? this is very confusing.

7. kissed someone and regretted it: ehhh not really.

8. been cheated on: never? 

9. lost someone special: thankfully not, i’d like to think. but i really fucked up one time and ruined a friendship with someone. 

10. been depressed: um. every single second of existence?

11. gotten drunk and thrown up: i went to get drinks with my high school friends and we had four different kinds of drinks and i died.

3 favourite colours

12. grey

13. skyblue

14. green

in the last year have you

15. made new friends: surprisingly yes

16. fallen out of love: kinda?

17. laughed until you cried: i rarely do that so no

18. found out someone was talking about you: not really cuz i don’t pay attention to shits like that

19. met someone who changed you: yep.

20. found out who your friends are: idek what that means. like who’s your “real” friends? perhaps?

21. kissed someone on your Facebook list:  technically two of them, i think?

general

22. how many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: except like one or two, most of them. but there are random guy from mexico who added me.

23. do you have any pets: my family lives with two cats, one of whom is sleeping next to me rn.

24. do you want to change your name: eh?? not really?

25. what did you do for your last birthday: went to a meeting with my competition team and then had a breakfast for dinner with my boyfriend.

26. what time did you wake up: 6:30 am today... and then after brief nap in the car, around 5 pm i think?

27. what were you doing at midnight last night: playing mobile game and talking to bf.

28. name something you can’t wait for: sweet release of death? being financially independent?

29. when was the last time you saw your mom: like, an hour ago, at living room.

31. what are you listening to right now:  future friends by superfruit

32. have you ever talked to a person named tom: uhh......... i don’t think so.

33. something that is getting on your nerves: virtually everything... but if i have to pick, bigotry, arrogance, myself, little noises when i try to sleep.

34. most visited website: tumblr and youtube, prob. 

35. hair colour: black, mostly, but in some lights it looks dark brown i think?

36. long or short hair: short. can’t stand long hair.

37. do you have a crush on someone: does my bf count?

38. what do you like about yourself: i’m a cat person.

39. piercings: nah dude

40. blood type: AB?

41. nickname: Dan (technically a nickname cuz it’s an English name i picked), Danny boy (obviously) Danio, Dan the man, DanDan, DJ... stuff like that.

42. relationship status: taken... not for long tho?

43. zodiac: aquarius

44. pronouns: he/him

45. favourite tv show: can’t really list it all here but rn i’m watching Killjoys, Archer and Brooklyn Nine-Nine, Crazy Ex-Girlfriend. Also love Friends, Scrubs, Justified, Elementary, Jane the Virgin

46. tattoos: I WANT ONE OR TEN

47. right or left handed: right, but for some stuff i prefer left for some weird reason. i can also write on my left hand, kinda

48. surgery: a lot

50. sport: i don’t understand the question. is video game a sport?

51. vacation: i went to a fancy camp stuff (the tent had an A/C) with my lgbt group folks last week.

52. pair of trainers: uh........ idt you mean two gym trainers or like... pokemon, so i’m just gonna skip.

53. eating: what does this question even mean? i eat when i’m hungry, but i think it can be annoying

54. drinking: coffee?

55. I’m about to: probably should sleep.

56. waiting for: death

57. want: financial independence, master’s (and hopefully doctor’s) degree

58. get married: sure? don’t think how that’s gonna be possible but

59. career: i’m trying to be a human rights law scholar/activist. maybe a professor too?

This or That

60. hugs or kisses: ew hugs. kiss if we’re gonna have sex?

61. lips or eyes: eyes

62. shorter or taller: taller

63. older or younger: i don’t mind age

64. nice arms or nice stomach: i... honestly don’t know. what does “nice stomach” even mean cuz like, you mean good digestive system? 

65. hookup or relationship: both

66. troublemaker or hesitant: idt those two are mutually exclusive... but hesitant i guess

HAVE YOU EVER:

67. kissed a stranger: well... are they strangers if you hook up with them

68. drank hard liquor: sadly i have

69. lost glasses/contact lenses: um. once a year or so. last time it was cuz my bf ate it.

70. turned someone down: i don’t have a standard but like... sometimes it’s just weird.

71. sex on the first date: most of the time, actually.

73. had your heart broken: you mean living?

74. been arrested: nah i’m a law abiding citizen

75. cried when someone died: i’ve never had someone closed to me passing away.

76. fallen for a friend: sadly, yeah.

DO YOU BELIEVE IN:

77. yourself: nah.

78. miracles: i don’t like to rely on them, so no.

79. love at first sight: nah, but you can be attracted to someone at first sight.

80. santa claus: nah. not since like 10?

81. kiss on the first date: um... it happens so i guess i believe in its existence?

82. angels: nah.

OTHER:

84. eye colour: dark brown. it looks like black i think.

85. favourite movie: not much of a movie person... i enjoyed Freier Fall.

[gyrlversion]

Democrats offer divergent takes on impeachment and other top takeaways from CNNs town halls

But Sen. Amy Klobuchar took a much more cautious approach, saying she would wait to see what happens in the House, where impeachment proceedings originate. And Sen. Bernie Sanders said he worries an effort to impeach Trump would distract voters from Democratic policy priorities headed into the 2020 election.

They also split on whether people currently in prison should be allowed to vote. Sanders argued that they should — even as he acknowledged CNN’s Chris Cuomo’s point that critics would accuse him of supporting the Boston Marathon bomber’s rights. Harris didn’t oppose Sanders’ argument, saying that “we can have that conversation.”

Here are the top takeaways from each candidate’s hour-long appearance:

Riding the caution lane

Perhaps more than any other Democratic candidate, Klobuchar has staked out the moderate lane in this crowded race for the party’s nomination in 2020. That was immediately evident in her CNN town hall Monday night when she essentially declined to answer questions about whether the Mueller report offered grounds to impeach President Donald Trump.

In her dodge, she said Trump should be held accountable and called some of his behavior detailed in the report “appalling,” but wasn’t exactly clear about what the consequences should be — beyond congressional hearings and bringing Mueller before the Senate to testify.

Klobuchar noted that impeachment originates in the House, and that the Senate’s role is that of a jury. In measured tones, she noted that she is waiting to see all the evidence as a former prosecutor, and said Americans could see justice through the varied investigations that continue into Trump’s conduct. Closing the loop, she said the third way to hold Trump accountable “is by defeating him in the 2020 election — and I believe I can do that.”

She won’t win the hearts of the most ardent (and enraged) Democratic activists with that answer, but she’s staking out a position that would put her on safer ground with independents and moderates who will be key in the general election.

‘I have to be straight with you’

Klobuchar continued to tack to the center when she cast college tuition and student loan debt forgiveness proposals from other candidates as unrealistic.

Instead, she offered a narrower set of proposals, including expanding Pell Grants, allowing students to refinance their loans and pushing for free community college.

“I wish I could staple a free college diploma under every one of your chairs. I do. Don’t look. It’s not there,” she told the audience in New Hampshire. “I wish I could do that, but I have to be straight with you and tell you the truth.”

Purple state cred

Klobuchar highlighted her history of winning big in a purple state — including last year, when she said she won 40 of the counties that Trump had won in 2016 when he came within two percentage points of victory in Minnesota. She said she earned voters’ trust by “going not just where it’s comfortable, but where it’s uncomfortable” — including farms and small-town cafes.

The approach makes sense: Polls have consistently shown Democratic primary voters are much more focused on their candidates’ electability than they have been in previous presidential races.

But does it inspire?

“Every single time I have run, I have won every single congressional district in my state, including Michele Bachmann’s, OK?” Klobuchar said.

When the comment was met by silence, she coaxed out applause by adding: “That’s when you guys are supposed to cheer, OK?”

Tackling that student loan price tag

With her sweeping student loan forgiveness proposal, Warren is making a strong play for young voters who Vermont Sen. Bernie Sanders won over during the 2016 election.

If the response the Massachusetts senator got at CNN’s town hall with young voters was a good barometer, it’s going over very well so far with students. “This is about opportunity for everyone,” she said to applause Monday night.

But the bigger question for Warren going forward is whether she can defend the stunning $1.25 trillion price tag of the proposal. She offered a pretty clean, understandable explanation of how she would do that Monday night by detailing one of the first policies she rolled out: the “wealth tax” or the “ultra-millionaire’s tax.” She explained that it’s “two cents on every dollar of the great fortunes above $50 million dollars. So your 50 millionth and first dollar, you have to pay two cents on all the dollars after that.”

“Here’s the stunning part,” she said. “If we put that two cent wealth tax in place on the 75,000 largest fortunes in this country — two cents — we can do universal child care for every baby, zero to five, universal pre-K, universal college, and knock back the student loan burden for 95% of our students and still have nearly a trillion dollars left over.”

‘That’s what girls do’

Asked how she’d overcome the barrage of sexism that faced Hillary Clinton in 2016 and could await a female nominee against Trump in 2020, Warren recounted her decision to run against Republican then-Sen. Scott Brown in 2012 — a race many Democrats who urged Warren to run thought she was likely to lose.

“All I can say is, Democrats, get a better message,” she said.

Warren said that every time she saw a little girl while on the campaign trail, she kneeled to talk to them. “I would say ‘hi, my name is Elizabeth, and I’m running for Senate because that’s what girls do,'” she said. Then she asked the girls to pinky-promise they’d remember it. She’s used the same line as a presidential candidate.

Warren said women face similar headwinds as presidential candidates.

“One might say you persist,” she said. “Organize, build a grassroots movement, fight for working people. And that’s how I’m going to be the first woman elected president of the United States.”

Warren defends call to impeach Trump

Warren made waves last week as the first Democratic presidential candidate to call for impeachment proceedings after the release of Mueller’s report on the Russia probe. On Monday, she pushed back against Democrats who have argued now — 18 months from another presidential election — isn’t the time for Trump’s impeachment.

“There is no political inconvenience exception to the United States Constitution,” she said.

The Massachusetts senator argued that “if any other human being in this country had done what’s documented in the Mueller report, they would be arrested and put in jail.” She said how lawmakers react to the Mueller report will affect the health of American democracy during future presidencies, too.

And, she said, there isn’t much left to investigate.

“If you’ve actually read the Mueller report, it’s all laid out there. It’s not like it’s going to take a long time to figure that out. It’s there,” Warren said. “It’s got the footnotes, it’s got the points, it connects directly to the law. But this really is fundamentally: I took an oath to uphold the Constitution of the United States and so did everybody else in the Senate and in the House.”

Warren also said she thinks the Department of Justice position that indictments cannot be brought against sitting presidents is “wrong.”

Giving the Boston Bomber the vote

As criminal justice has moved to the forefront of the increasingly progressive Democratic agenda, there are some proposals that middle America may find hard to swallow — and Vermont Sen. Bernie Sanders tackled one of them Monday night.

A student asked whether he really believed that incarcerated Americans should be allowed to vote, including the Boston Marathon bomber. Showing Democrats the kind of direct, straightforward rhetoric that helped him win over so many voters in 2016, he answered with an unequivocal yes.

The Vermont senator said he wants to see America have the highest voter turnout on earth, and part of that is preserving the right to vote even for the most “terrible people.”

“If somebody commits a serious crime — sexual assault, murder — they’re going to be punished. They may be in jail for 10 years, 20 years, 50 years, their whole lives. That’s what happens when you commit a serious crime,” Sanders said. “But I think the right to vote is inherent to our democracy. Yes, even for terrible people, because once you start chipping away and you say, ‘Well, that guy committed a terrible crime; not going to let him vote. Well, that person did that; not going to let that person vote. You’re running down a slippery slope.”

CNN’s Chris Cuomo noted that Sanders was essentially writing a 30-second opposition ad against himself “by saying you think the Boston Marathon bomber should vote.”

“Well, Chris,” Sanders answered, “I think I have written many 30-second opposition ads throughout my life. This will be just another one.”

‘Rightfully criticized’ on foreign policy

Sanders conceded that his decades of consistency on economic issues does not extend to his approach on foreign policy.

“I was rightfully criticized the last time around because I didn’t pay as much attention as I might,” Sanders said. “The economy issues, whether people have health care and whether they have decent paying jobs and deal with climate change is enormously important but we have to look at the United States’ role in the world as well.”

He specifically pointed to Yemen and the recent passage of the War Powers Act, a bipartisan effort led by Sanders in partnership with GOP Utah Sen. Mike Lee that was ultimately vetoed by Trump.

“Probably a few years ago I would not have been as involved as I have recently been in demanding and helping in the Senate to pass a resolution to get the United States out of the Saudi-led intervention in Yemen,” Sanders said.

Caution on impeaching Trump

Sanders rang notes of caution on Democrats pursuing Trump’s impeachment, just an hour after Massachusetts Sen. Elizabeth Warren argued forcefully for it.

“Here is my concern: At the end of the day, what is most important to me is to see that Donald Trump is not reelected President and I intend to do everything I can to make sure that that doesn’t happen,” Sanders said.

“But if for the next year all the Congress is talking about is ‘Trump, Trump, Trump,’ and ‘Mueller, Mueller, Mueller’ and we’re not talking about health care and raising the minimum wage to a living wage and we’re not talking about climate change and sexism and racism and homophobia and the issues that concern ordinary Americans — I worry that works to Trump’s advantage,” he said.

Sanders said there should be a “thorough investigation” of Trump’s actions in the House and the Senate, but that he won’t hold his breath for Senate Republicans to probe the president.

Harris backs impeachment

Harris delivered her clearest answer yet on how Democrats should proceed after Mueller’s report on the Russia probe was revealed.

“I believe Congress should take the steps towards impeachment,” she said.

Harris said Mueller’s investigation had produced evidence that Trump and his administration have “engaged in obstruction of justice.”

The California Democrat added that she is a “realist” who has watched Senate Republicans defend Trump, and said Democrats must be “realistic about what might be the end result. But that doesn’t mean the process shouldn’t take place.”

It was the clearest answer yet on impeachment from Harris, who has previously said her focus was on getting Mueller to testify before Congress. She joins Warren in calling for impeachment proceedings to go forward.

‘We should have that conversation’

Voters listening to Harris’ CNN town hall in New Hampshire might have noticed a go-to phrase for everything that falls into her “maybe” basket: “Let’s have that conversation” or “I believe we should have that conversation.”

Harris gave that answer Monday night to questions about whether she’d give the vote to the most heinous criminals, like the Boston Marathon bomber, who are incarcerated. And whether she’d like to see 16-year-olds get the right to vote. Oh, and also reparations.

Harris said she supports Rep. Sheila Jackson Lee’s bill to study reparations. But then she was pressed by CNN anchor Don Lemon: “Senator, yes or no, do you support financial reparations?”

“I support that we study that,” she replied. “We should study it and see.” In other words, let’s have that conversation.

Short on policy?

Buttigieg’s campaign website is missing a policy section — an omission that CNN’s Anderson Cooper pointed out is glaring after Sen. Elizabeth Warren of Massachusetts, in particular, had delved deep into policy specifics earlier Monday night.

Buttigieg responded that while policy is important, Democrats need to communicate their values without drowning voters in “minutiae.”

“I’ve been pretty clear where I stand on major issues,” he said, citing “Medicare for All” as an example.

“We’ll continue to roll out specific policy proposals, too,” he said. “But I also think it’s important we don’t drown people in minutiae before we’ve vindicated the values that animate our policies. We go right to the policy proposals and we expect people to be able to figure out what our values must be from that.”

“I expect it will be very easy to tell where I stand on every policy issue of our time. But I’m going to take time to lay that out, rather than competing strictly on the theoretical elements of the proposals themselves,” he said.

Buttigieg also said he planned to soon unveil a tool that would make it possible for people to pull up videos of him discussing specific policies and issues by entering a search word or phrase on his website. Minutes later, that feature was live.

“We’re in the second week of my campaign being official and we’ll continue building our website accordingly, too,” he said.

A break from Sanders on prisoners voting

Buttigieg said prisoners should not be allowed to vote. “While incarcerated? No, I don’t think so,” the South Bend mayor said.

His position was a break from Sanders, who had advocated voting rights for incarcerated Americans, and Harris.

“I do believe that when you are out — when you have served your sentence — part of being restored to society is that you are part of the political life of this nation,” Buttigieg said. “And one of the things that needs to be restored is your right to vote.”

But, Buttigieg said, those convicted of felonies and imprisoned have to forfeit their rights. “It does not make sense to have an exception for the right to vote,” he said.

Buttigieg backs Trump’s impeachment

Buttigieg backed impeaching Trump in the wake of Mueller’s report, saying the President has “made it pretty clear that he deserves impeachment.”

But Buttigieg also signaled that he won’t be pushing Trump’s impeachment on the campaign trail.

“I’m also going to leave it to the House and the Senate to figure that out,” he said. “My role in the process is trying to relegate Trumpism to the dustbin of history, and I think there’s no more decisive way to do that — especially to get Republicans to abandon this kind of deal with the devil they made — than to have just an absolute thumping at the ballot box for what it represents.”

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