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dragonturtle2 · 2 months ago

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A predator will be attending Milwaukee Ponyville Ciderfest

Content warning: sexual abuse, self-harm, online harassment, and the propositioning of a minor

The person’s name is Kaitlin Hahn. Aka, SilverMoon, aka RainbowDashie5.0, aka rockcandypower43. [Addendum: aka Rainbowdashloverocks]

Earlier this year it came out that Kaitlin had prompted a 16-year-old for a sexual encounter. This was published in a compilation document posted online by a man with the username Reverend Shadow. He had compiled stories, screenshots, and links of people acting dangerously in the MLP community (and by extension the Furry and Sonic game community). The document went through several revisions and address changes, and you can read the non-Google doc version on Wordpress. You can just read the sections about Kaitlin, but the entire thing is useful.

https://revshadow.wordpress.com/the-document/8/#chapter-iii-part-i-kaitlin-s-error

The person who first told me about the document was Blackjack (John Bergeman). The events were also acknowledged to me as real by her boyfriend, Gage O’Laughlin. Gage has been my friend since college, and were former roommates and co-workers for years after graduation. Kaitlin has also admitted to what she has attempted with a minor in different formats. Kaitlin made a strange YouTube apology video, where she vaguely acknowledged she did something “extremely wrong” with a 16-year-old. As well as harassing an 11-year-old.

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Even the apology video was done shadily. It was set to private, and posted on her second more obscure YouTube channel. All so that fewer people would ever see her admitting fault. I only first saw it because someone shared the private link with me. The link that I’m sharing with you is just Reverend Shadow recording of it. (The original video was called “ I am willing to change.” The recording Reverend Shadow posted has a different, much more specific title). Her video came after the evidence about her was made public. A more immediate confession was when she got blocked by then-boyfriend Gage O'Laughlin (He’s unfortunately gotten back with her), she began messaging a friend of ours named Jared Miller Christian. She was begging him to convey her messages to Gage, begging Gage to unblock her, and admitting “I sent that thing to that 16-year-old because I was fucking horny.”

This is a well-known pattern of Kaitlin’s. Someone doesn’t want to talk to her, so she spams them with calls and messages. Then if she gets blocked, she begins spamming them on different services like Facebook, Discord, or even over games like Animal Crossing. If none of those get a response, she begins bothering a shared mutual to pass along a bunch of her messages. Kaitlin has been an abusive person for years. Nothing that would qualify getting banned from a convention or calling the police, but once the story dropped about how she wanted to have sex with a minor, everything that happened with her really illustrates how irrational she is. How little regard she has for other people.

Years before this story broke of propositioning a minor (and trying to cheat on her boyfriend Gage O'Laughlin again), we kicked her out of the Milwaukee Bronies group because she was a jerk to everyone, and threatened someone on Facebook. There was a dude who was selling a few plushies; Kaitlin offered money for one that WASN’T for sale. When the guy kept politely saying “no,” she threatened to call the police to his address for ‘false advertising.’ Plenty of people in Milwaukee Bronies can tell you that story, including our leaders.

On February 26th of 2024, John Bergeman (aka Blackjack, who has worked with Ciderfest very often) blocked her because she had been pestering him over something. She got so upset, she created a new group chat with him and Jared Christian, where she threatened to kill herself if Blackjack didn’t answer her phone calls. Jared then called me, because he was so freaked out. Someone had to call the nonemergency number, even if we had our doubts she would actually do anything. After this, she had to have a stint in a mental hospital. When she got picked up that night, it turned out neither of her parents knew where she was actually was at the time. Kaitlin‘s parents are divorced, and she is barred by Illinois law from living on her own. In actuality, she had been staying over at the house of a different, cheating on her boyfriend. (She also apparently tried convincing her sister, to join them). This lover had met her because he had been hired by her parents to drive her to work. He was mostly paid through subsidies granted by the state of Illinois. That used to be a job performed by her Gage, until he had to move back to his home state Wisconsin, and their relationship became long distance. These are screenshots from that night.

On June 10th, 2023, Simone Smudde and Matt Rypel were married. They are the leaders of Milwaukee Bronies, and everyone in the group got invited. Kaitlyn obviously wasn’t; Simone has said that before Kaitlyn was booted, she made Simone anxious just by being around her. Kaitlyn always hated being banned from group meetings, and generally hated it when Gage was spending time with anyone and it didn’t involve her. Gage gave me a lift in his car to the ceremony in Wisconsin, and we bunked at his parents’ house for the 22nd and 23rd. Throughout the 22nd, Kaitlyn kept calling him to demand he cancel his attendance, and leave me to figure a way there myself. Then on the 23rd, she threatened Gage and Blackjack to kill herself for attending the wedding without her. That all the Bronies wanted her dead. She also laid out some offensive remarks about the bride and groom. At the couples’ request, I will not be making those personal comments public. But they have been shared with the con staff.

These messages were being before and during the ceremony, and were then shared with me in deep exasperation during the dinner. I have not posted them in any particular order.

A few days later that June, Kaitlyn got hospitalized. She got on someone’s birthday party stream (on FaceTime, I think) and began stabbing herself with thumbtacks. Person C was attending that stream. Person C texted this information with Blackjack, who shared the screenshots of those texts with me. (I’m not using Person C’s name because I have not had the chance to reach out to them and ask their permission.)

As disturbing as this is, it wasn’t an actual attempt on her life. This was Kaitlyn being as alarming as she could be to punish the people she felt had wronged her. She tries to control people using guilt, alarm and anxiety. I first saw behavior in that same vein in 2021, a year into Gage first dating Kaitlyn, after he and I had moved into a new apartment together. For now I will not be going into detail out of respect for Gage's privacy and his own abuse. But it HAS been shared with Ciderfest. I know it's wishful thinking, but I do hope he listens to the advice of all his friends and family and cut her out of his life.

I never met her sister Lexi, but Kaitlin has been making her sister feel unsafe as well. Recently she told Lexi that if she didn’t do what Kaitlin wanted, Kaitlin would lie to Reverend Shadow to put Lexi’s name on the document naming sex predators & enablers. Fortunately, Kaitlin made this threat on a livestream, and he recorded it.

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Her sister I feel bad for, because she’s also disabled and doesn’t really have the ability to go anywhere else. One of the people I've talked to while creating this is Lexi’s confidant. Meanwhile, the parents are either unable or unwilling to do anything to restrain Kaitlin. I have spoken once with her father, Merlin Hahn, since I read about the allegations. It was on a phone call with Gage. Besides Merlin acknowledging that the events happened, he claimed that it wasn’t pedophilia. His excuse was that Kaitlin’s mental diagnosis made her like a middle schooler. I told him that besides that not sounding like something defensible, I asked why he accepted years of Kaitlin dating some men her age or older, and did not share a similar cognitive diagnosis. Men who he did not also consider middle schoolers. He did not have an answer.

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Everything I've wrote above was presented to the con staff on October 9th, and I was only told about the current decision to let her attend October 26th. And that was just because I asked. I was told "Royal Guard and leadership are very aware, are vigilant about it and handling. If they do show up and if they do cause ANY problems. Please let me or any Royal Guard know."

I had provided a link to where the story first broke, recorded conversations, as well as my experiences with Kaitlin Hahn over the years. I promised that "If anything I’ve given you seemed falsified, or too vague, please let me know so I can provide details, fix my error. I’m willing to do a video interview, or help set one up with someone else." The only reassurance I got was "Really they are being watched with a magnifying glass." But I don't get the point of a magnifying glass, or security camera, or some other looking device metaphor, when something obviously harmful has been observed, and no action is taken.

Kaitlin did not attend Whinney City 2024. I had mistakenly thought she was prohibited from coming by the convention itself. But actually, the reason she didn't come to Schaumburg is because Gage O'Laughlin was too angry with her to provide a ride or a room. A few months later, any misgivings Gage might still have he's chosen to ignore.

Kaitlin is still coming to Ciderfest. Just as she has in years past, and I'm sure plans to in the years to come. The thought process behind allowing her in seems like it treats the convention as some kind of vacuum, that what a person says and does outside of it doesn't matter for the people attending. Or that the people who run the con somehow don't have the right to alter anything. They won’t take real action unless something happens WITHIN the location and timeframe of the convention (or if Kaitlin dropped an extremely specific threat). I asked permission from Ciderfest if I could include the names of the staff members I spoke to about this, and I was not given permission. I can attest though that they were important people, and have a reputation for responsibility. While reaching out to con staff, I was repeatedly told how busy they were. If that affected the outcome of this decision, or stopped them for noticing Kaitlin's behavior in the first place, then I strongly recommend they reserve more of their time and effort for keeping congoers safe as possible. Of the people I've named in these events, most of them I have reached out to for permission to use their names. They never spoke to me about anyone from the con reaching out for their accounts, or confirmation of events.

No, I don't think Kaitlin is going to assault or touch anyone while the at the convention. I just firmly believe a person like this just shouldn't be allowed in our spaces. It feels gross on its own, being in the same room as someone like that. Parents bring their kids to this convention. But I also sincerely feel like this could lead to problems down the road. Letting unbalanced abusers walk around puts a veneer of normalcy on them, that lets them get closer to unsuspecting people. As for people who DO know about Kaitlin's abuses, this sets the precedent that these things won't be opposed, that the abuser won't lose any privileges. So other abusers won't feel apprehensive in acting this way, and victims won't feel like there's a point in speaking up and seeking help.

A person who does all this shouldn't get to be included in our convention community; not be given the same privileges, and not nearly the standard of trust given to the rest of us who've done nothing wrong. Feeling like we can open up to complete strangers, and feel safe, is part of what makes these conventions so wonderful. Regardless if Ciderfest/Whinney City don't take preventative action, I hope this information will prevent anyone from approaching this bully and predator unsuspectingly.

#ciderfest 2024 #predator alert #cw sex abuse #cw suicide threats #community alert #ciderfest #whinney city #MLP convention scene #Youtube

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queenoffantasyland · 1 year ago

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So about whatshisname…

First off, I will admit this is kind of an intense overshare to just dump onto Tumblr, but I’m a millennial with a lot of emotions and this is what we do. In order to protect a semblance of anonymity, I have changed names and kept locations vague. But I am pouring this all into a Google Doc because I have still been processing how in less than a year a person went from a mild acquaintance to one of the most important people in my life and then it only took another year for him to become somebody that I used to know. They say hindsight is 20/20, but it still feels like I can see the traffic light but the blurred sunbursts of colored lights obscure the path ahead of me necessitating another lens to see things clearly.

So as the dulcet tones of Julie Andrews remind me: the beginning is a very good place to start. Being social has not been my strong suit. From about 2nd grade to my early 20s I straight-up didn’t have friends. On multiple occasions I was told I was “too much” and between repeated rejection from friendships, a cross-country move, and 4 middle schools later I understood that there were people that would allow me to sit at their table for lunch but did not want to engage with me socially once the final bell rang. No sleepovers, no birthday parties, no “let’s go to the movies and then get Taco Bell.” Likewise, if making friends was this unattainable– dating or flirting with guys in my teen years was completely off the table. But I had given myself the hope that I just needed to move back to California and go to college, where I’d find my sitcom-like circle of friends and the perfect guy and be happy.

College at first gave me hope but it was very clear, very soon, that I was the seventh wheel in the group. I had social engagements that I went to now but I was only included as the roommate of the effervescent Vocal Performance major that could flirt with the best of ‘em. Fortunately, my roommate's shitty boyfriend went to church with Daphne, who ran in different social circles but also liked talking about pop culture and wasn’t put off by the intensity of receiving a Powerpoint of TV recommendations. We stayed “periodically texting each other” friends even as I left the university I was attending. Being away from family and in an environment where my worst impulses were fully unregulated, and my deep loneliness had not been solved by leaving my small town prompted my mental health to spiral downward. So my parents had me transfer to a college on the East Coast to live with my sister as a hail mary attempt getting me to fit the plan every boomer parent sets out for their daughter: focus on your grades, go to college, meet someone to marry, get a good job, get a house, etc. It was at this new college that I entered a deep depression that was truly the darkest time of my life. It became clear that higher education was not for me, and I moved back to California to live with my parents and work full-time.

The only thing keeping me from my darkest thoughts and helping me hold on during this period was finding my people in online fandom communities. Finding other women out there who thought about fictional characters as often and as in-depth as me was a lifeline. I found people just as moved by the power of stories and a good romance. We were of varying ages and lived in various time zones, but we were kindred spirits. People who didn’t just tolerate me talking about Felicity Smoak or Elizabeth Swann for hours on end, but found enjoyment from it. People who didn’t think I was “too intense” for saying that our friendship meant so much to me a few weeks into knowing each other. It was in this safe space, that I brought Daphne,my one sorta-kinda friend from college, into fandom and bonded to where she is now one of my very best friends. To this day, I have women that I meant through tumblr or Twitter that are my lifeline that make all the out-of-pocket nonsense that fandom brings worth it.

Now I have friends for the first time since I was ten. Awesome! Shouldn't I be dating though too? I should’ve had a kiss that was not a part of a high school play with a closted gay kid by now, right? And even that kiss I had to be the initiator. That’s what women in their early 20s do. Get on those apps, go on dates, have some epic first love or a string of comically regrettable boyfriends to laugh about when you are older. I guess. So I hop onto OkCupid and play the swiping game during my breaks at my mall retail job, and find a guy that is Christian, into movies, and cute enough. We message for about a week and he says we should go on a date: a movie and dinner. I’m about to get my “has gone on an actual date and isn’t a prudish spinster” badge! I drive an hour to a strip mall by where he lives and we see The Big Short and eat overpriced burgers at a nearby gastropub. It’s all going perfect. He walks me to my car after dinner and when I think he’s going in for a hug he kisses me. My cheeks are inflamed with an immediate blush. He’s going in for a second kiss, but I have no idea what to do so I hug him and give a cute little wave as I flee into my car to drive to Daphne’s apartment to freak out over the whole thing over a cup of Coldstone. This should be magical, right? Why does the feeling of his lips on mine feel about the same as the high school theater kiss? I wrote it off in my head that I wasn’t expecting the kiss and that’s why it had no spark. Fast forward to the end of the second date, watching Creed and dinner at PF Chang’s, that I realized while this guy was nice enough I wasn’t actually interested in him. I was interested in fitting in and not being the weirdo that’s never had a guy kiss them even into my twenties. Neither of those things are reason enough to keep dating a guy that is essentially a prop in my coming-of-age checklist, so I texted him that I didn’t think things were going to work out for a third date. After those two dates, I put dating on the backburner and prioritized other aspects of my life: mental health, repairing family relationships, trying to achieve a semblance of financial independence, etc. Granted there were enough fictional or celebrity crushes over the years that in addition to the purchase of my first vibrator, did confirm that I was indeed attracted to guys; but dating was never a focus.

So in building my career and being closer to family, I move back to Texas in fall of 2017 and start a new job. This is where I meet Jared. To paint a picture,my sports-averse self was attracted to him even when he was discussing football. One of my fandom friends asked if there were cute guys at the new job that caught my fancy, to which I replied “The only dude remotely attractive is my freaking trainer and that’s not an option.” Since I’ve valued building a reputation of professionalism, his role as a trainer and later to a manager precluded any of that initial attraction from growing into anything else (as if I could flirt or be confident to act on it at the time but that’s not the point). I packed those butterflies into a box and shoved that box into the attic– to the point that I’d forget that box existed. There was the time when he was back in my department and noted that he saw my Bumble profile, didn’t swipe right because he didn’t want to cross those lines, but commented that I have a nice profile. His respectfulness and professionalism mixed with a bit of a compliment made me remember that box of butterflies in the attic, and then promptly shoved it back in the rafters. Reign it in, girl.

Fast forward a few years and he’s back in the department I work in again as an interim while they look for a new person to fill the manager role. I’m in the interview process to potentially get that role, which means I can relax a little in my current position and not be laser-focused on making sales every second I’m at work and actually talk to people. It’s at this time that one of my coworkers gives me the 411 on Jared. You know those coworkers who have the magical ability to get everyone they talk to to divulge their entire life story? This was her. So it’s at this time that I learn that he’s a lot closer to my age than I thought he was, that he also had family in church leadership like me, we both like nerdy pop culture shit, and that he’s tired of “dating around” and “wants to find a wife”. Keep in mind that the company where I work is kinda weird in how they sorta encourage people to date, married couples to both work there, etc. With all this in mind, I decided to take my mind off of the job interview I did for the manager role by chatting with Jared. As we both look out the window I comment on the sunset, and he responds with an anecdote of how during the last time he worked in this department he’d take a picture of the sunset every evening and send it to his girlfriend at the time “This sunset is almost as beautiful as you.” Externally, I tease him about how corny but smooth that line is. Inside, I’m melting. It’s such a sweet little romantic gesture that I have never gotten to experience, I’ve just read it in fanfic. I excuse myself to go cry in the bathroom as the realization of just how much I’d love to experience something like that, and potentially experience that with Jared. And thus the rafters give way, the box falls down from the attic and breaks open to release those 4 year old butterflies.

So I got the manager job the next day, and have about 2 weeks before I start my new role giving me very little to do at work except chat with Jared on the days we are scheduled together. He gives me his phone number in case I need his help as I adjust to the new role. After a few strictly work related texts, an actual friendship begins to form as text conversations stray to movie trailer reactions and other light but fun topics. He finds reasons to pop by my department’s office to say hi even though we work nowhere near each other. It is in one of those chats that we talk and I see that his smile doesn’t reach his eyes, his normal charismatic and jovial demeanor is dimmed in a way that only someone also good at veiling sadness with a happy face can tell. The middle of shift is not the time or place to call him out on it, but that evening I texted Jared to check in and let him know I am here for him for more than reacting to the latest episode of Moon Knight. He opens up to me about things he’s been struggling with and we proceed to have a text conversation for the next four and a half hours– topics ranging from mental health struggles and past traumas to the “three fictional characters to describe me” meme and comedians we enjoyed.It was definitely a turning point, where I truly felt we were getting to know each other and really connect. The fact that my deepest friendships were made in text conversations or DMs on Twitter made it easy for me to open up and be my most authentic self. And as these Sunday night text conversations continued, I knew that my crush was moving beyond infatuation.

At the end of that summer, I went on vacation: a day at Disneyland and then a girls’ trip in Lake Tahoe with some of my closest friends made through the Olicity fandom. I was in my favorite place in the entire world, and I still couldn’t stop thinking of him. In the hundreds of times I've been to Disneyland I’ve looked at the couples holding hands, wearing coordinating outfits, or kissing during World of Color and wistfully thought “One day.” And now as I walked through the Happiest Place on Earth, I couldn’t help but think of what it would be like to share it with Jared. I wasn’t able to help myself from texting throughout the day sharing pics of Avengers Campus and Galaxy’s Edge. At the end of the day, I saw a Chewbacca pen in one of the shops on Main Street USA and just had to buy it for him. I gave a teaser text with the gift and he freaked out a little that I’d get him something because apparently he’s extraordinarily bad at receiving gifts which I just found even more endearing. Once in Tahoe, I had the opportunity to catch my ladies up with the whole situation. They totally shipped us and encouraged me to be bold and make a move– sometimes guys are dumb and you have to say you like them with a neon sign. I thought my particular brand of nerd flirting was not that subtle. I mean in the “three fictional characters to describe me” meme discussion I told him he was a mixture of Nick Miller, Han Solo, and Andrew Garfield Spider-Man, but I trusted my friends that were either married or had a serious boyfriend since this all was still very much uncharted waters for me. So while I knew I needed to be bold I wanted to invite him to a group setting where we could spend more time together outside of work before going on an outright date. When I got back from the girls’ trip, I invited him to my family’s Labor Day barbecue where he would basically meet my whole family and some of my sister’s friends from church to keep the whole thing still fairly lowkey. He was super stoked at the invite, since living hours away from family is rough on big holidays. He was a perfect gentleman and offered to pick me up to drive to my parents’ house together and offered to bring a bottle of wine to be a good guest. I informed neither me or my family drink (this will come up later) but that his presence was a gift unto itself. Before we walked into my parents’ house, I gave him the Chewbacca pen I got for him at Disneyland. His delighted laughter made my impulse buy totally worth it.

It was an amazing day. Good food, lots of laughter, and he fit in with my family so well. I had even warned my crazy aunt that I was bringing a guy that I was just friends with and to please be chill in hopes things could one day be more. Even she was on her best behavior, which made my mom joke if I could bring him every major holiday. It went literally perfectly. When it was time for him to go I had him drive me back to my apartment, even though as soon as he left I got in my car to go back to my parent’s house to gush about him with my mom and sister. Everyone loved him. He even texted a nice thank you for inviting him and that my family was so welcoming and he had a great time. I made the (only kind of a) joke with him about me separating my work and personal personas by being Maddison at work and Maddie with those who know and care about me, and that I enjoyed getting to be Maddie with him for a full day. To which he replied, he can see the difference and he really liked getting to know Maddie (with a blushing emoji at the end). At that point, I was far past a crush and this was becoming real feelings.

The following week, I was scrolling through Instagram and I got an ad for a string quartet concert playing movie scores from SciFi and Fantasy films being played in a candlelit venue. This was it. I literally couldn’t imagine a better first date for us. I talked about it with my friend in LA and she mentioned that these events sell out quickly so I should go ahead and get the tickets since they were relatively inexpensive. So with tickets already bought and after drafting the invite text and focus grouping it with like 8 different women to make sure I had the right levels of flirty but casual, I sent him an invite to the concert. He had the valid excuse of family being in town but in a second text asked if there were other dates. So hope was not lost yet at this point. I texted him the other dates but left the ball in his court. No word on the concert, but then he came over to my apartment to binge watch Andor. I ordered his favorite red velvet cake on DoorDash and as coached by my married friends I made the effort to gradually sit close together on the couch as each episode moved along. I distinctly remember being so frustrated that I couldn’t skip over the feelings confession part so we could just fast forward to cuddling on the couch watching this show because it just felt so right. Another night he texts me out of the blue that he’s taking stock of what’s good in his life and getting to know me and become friends with me is one of the best parts of his year. The happy tears come and it takes everything in me to not gush about how important he is to me and how much I care about him. We’re getting closer to the breaking point of my chill.

Shortly thereafter, our workplace is throwing this big annual party. My social battery was running low, so I left pretty early but as is our Sunday night tradition at this point I still text Jared before going to bed. He says the party was fun until it wasn't. His heart took a beating, but he’ll survive… he always does. I had never heard him sound this defeated and hurt before. My emotions are bubbling to the surface, but I have the good sense to text Daphne since she’s on the west coast time zone to figure out how to respond. I send her a truly embarrassing voice note of me sobbing and talking about how I hurt when he hurts and want to tell him how much I care about him and how he deserves so much better than people who would treat him poorly. And before I could truly embarrass myself and text all of this to him, Daphne tells me “Bitch, it’s 1am. Go to bed.” In the sanity of the morning, I can send a much more reserved “I’m so sorry. Sending hugs.” text instead of a geyser of emotion at, in hindsight, the worst timing possible. Things fall back into their rhythm, until one day I am in my car on my lunch break with my music library on shuffle and “Wrapped in Red” by Kelly Clarkson comes on. It’s October so arguably too soon for Christmas music, but I let it play because 1) that song is a bop and 2) the lyrics really start hitting.

I’ll never feel you

If I don’t tell you

This Christmas, I’m gonna risk it all

This Christmas, I’m not afraid to fall

So I’m at your door with nothing more

Than words I’ve never said

It’s at this point that I realize I am well past the point where I need to tell Jared how I feel so we both know where we stand. It’s no longer healthy for me to keep harboring these feelings to myself, and the next time there’s an emotional conversation I won’t have the restraint to keep it to myself. However, I don’t want to have this conversation at work and this is too big to have over text message even though that’d be infinitely easier. So conveniently another Marvel movie is coming out in theaters the following week. I ask him to the movie with a hint of flirtation but with platonic plausible deniability. He says yes. I get a little bolder and ask him to dinner beforehand, which he agrees and offers to pick me up from my apartment. Another good sign. One week, dozens of text conversations with friends talking through all the possibilities, and a hundred anxiety spirals later, and Monday night comes around. My outfit was meticulously planned– casual and in character with what I wear normally but the turtleneck has a cleavage cutout to bring a tasteful amount of “va va voom” . We keep mostly to small talk on the ride to the restaurant, and once we are seated the conversation deepens. I mention my limited dating history and get into topics previously mentioned in this essay. Jared opens up and reveals he was in a relationship that ended a few months ago abruptly with his girlfriend cheating on him with his close friend at the time. My heart sinks. I’m hurt he had to go through that, but I also know the result of the conversation I was planning for the car ride home is not going to have the result I want it to have. Fortunately, Wakanda Forever gave me plenty of excuses to cry in the theater. Regardless, the conversation still needs to be had so I start with confirming that the invite to the concert was me asking him out, and from there it all spills forth. The crush and friendship that developed to infatuation, that developed to real feelings, that I could see us being compatible and really working together, that he had everything I was looking for in a partner with the added bonus of majestic hair and being taller than me. I continued that even though he’s been dealing with a lot, it’s still my choice if I want to be there alongside him to shoulder those burdens. We are now pulled into the parking garage for my apartment. He reiterates that he is still processing all that he’s had to go through this year and that (this is a direct quote still seared into my soul) “if there’s a 5% chance that my baggage and what I’m going through could hurt you, I can’t take that risk.” I am doing all that I can not to burst into tears, and so to lighten the mood I say “Don’t read into the fact I got you a Christmas present, Etsy doesn’t do returns.” Which is a silly way to say I’ve been so head over heels for you I bought your Christmas present in fucking August, but I digress. He opens the car door, gives me a hug, and the thought isn’t lost on me that the first time I touch him is an ending not a beginning. And thus began my first true heartbreak.

Naturally, the following days made things worse somehow. I woke up feeling miserable and aching all over. At first I thought it was just a physical manifestation of my emotional turmoil, and forced myself to get out of bed with a pep talk of “You are a freaking professional and you’re not going to call out of work because a boy made you sad. Take a hot bath and pull yourself together.” Then after I proceeded to projectile vomit in the bathtub, I realized I actually had some kind of flu and did actually need to stay home. So I slept through most of Tuesday but was crying for most of the time I was awake. Of course this meant Wednesday was when I started my period, because adding period symptoms on to all of this is exactly what I need. Thus in a moment where I curled up on the floor, nose bleeding from blowing my nose too much, still crying, headache from all the crying, aches everywhere from the flu and Aunt Flo, and wallowing in self-pity that I got a little messy and made a “fishing for attention” post on my Close Friends instagram story. Just a quick slide with text about how I was sick of being sick and sick of crying all the fucking time. I’m not going to lie, I was (admittedly irrationally) irritated that I was feeling this miserable and he’s just getting to have a Wednesday. Lo and behold, I get a text from Jared: “Saw your IG story. How can I help?” – a level of obliviousness which nearly made me throw my phone across the room. At this point, I knew subtlety was not an option. I acknowledged that I had to stop reading between the lines and that he saw me as just a friend and that broke my heart–something I needed to process and he couldn’t help with.

I want to stress that I did not then nor do I now begrudge him for not returning romantic feelings towards me. He was not obligated to feel the same way. However, the bordering on overshare of feelings that I expressed made things abundantly clear where I stood on things and anything said or done at this point was regarded considering that mutual knowledge.

So here’s where the mixed signals began. He responds that he currently sees me as a friend and also he wasn’t ready for a relationship yet. Would he maybe see me differently when he is ready for a relationship? Who knows, it’s possible. And then some more stuff about how he’s sorry he caused me pain, blah blah blah. But my deluded hopeless romantic self still took the dangled maybe of who knows what will happen in the future and ran with it. “This is us at just six months of friendship, stay friends with him and we can be even closer once he heals from his cheating whore of an ex. Maybe if you get back on the bandwagon and lose weight you’ll look more like the girls he usually dates when he’s ready. This is all just bad timing, but maybe your story together isn’t done yet.” The last sentence was the only part of that spiral that was true. This is just a story that doesn’t have the original happy ending anticipated.

Meanwhile, our work Christmas party comes along and I have him pick me up because I’m a passenger princess who doesn’t like to drive outside of my 10 mile bubble but also to still keep the spark going and see where our friendship is at now. It’s a fun night of games and getting to know some of the other managers. There’s a solid group of friends in a similar age range as me that are actually really fun to hang out with. On the ride home, Jared talks about how it’s fun to see me come out of my shell and some of the others get to see me be “not as innocent as I appear”. He also talks about how the group of managers usually hang out on Sunday nights after work and that he’ll talk to the group to see if they’re cool with me joining the next time they go out. I’m honestly so excited at the prospect of a group of friends, I forget to spiral (at least until much later) about how that means our usual 9pm-1am Sunday night text convos must have been when he was out at a bar with friends and all that that implies.

Christmas comes along and he appreciates the thoughtful present I gave him of a coaster laser engraved with the design of his favorite football stadium and a homemade rice krispie treat. And since I gave him the heads up towards the end of Car Ride of Pain that I was getting him something, he had texted me earlier in December that after the hardest time searching he found the perfect present. On Christmas Eve, he shows up at my department on his day of PTO to give me my present. My coworkers are nosy so I wait until my lunch break to open it, which was smart because I teared up when I opened it. And it’s so thoughtful and sweet that I would’ve LOVED this gift as the first Christmas present from a boyfriend. I still love the gift but I’m also confused. So were my Twitter friends.

After Christmas I started hanging out with the group of managers and they were super chill and really welcoming. Towards the latter part of our first hang out there’s the round table topic of “what celebrity would want to have sex with? Man and woman.” One of the guys was debating between Henry Cavill and Jason Momoa and ended up picking Momoa. I joked “Solid pick. Momoa has more grabbable hair.” Jared and his stupid long hair turns to me and loudly says “Hmmmm. I’m learning some things about you.” I go red and my brain short circuits and I can’t think of a response beyond “Yep.” so that’s how I respond and leave it at that. AND THEN, he brings the topic back up after the “Made it home safe?” text, saying that he’s still thinking about my comment on grabbable hair. I quickly respond “So we’re going there?” trying to clarify what we are doing because this is decidedly not platonic. To which he replies, “I guess we are.” This time I did throw my phone across the room. Luckily, it landed in a to-be-folded pile of laundry. I typed and retyped a reply five times. Once my west coast friends got back to me that my idea to respond with “Everyone likes a hair grab. Why do you think I wear a high ponytail so often?” was too dirty, I decided to leave him “on read” and go to bed.

Meanwhile we still have long text conversations with serious topics like being broke af, and silly things like memes about Formula One racing (which I admittedly did get into to impress him but still legitimately enjoy it and have another friend to talk about it with). But now mixed with weirdly flirty stuff like “With the length of my hair right now, I look like Loki in Thor: Ragnarok when I get out of the shower”. Nerd flirting, but definitely flirting. Especially when I have admitted in a conversation when out with friends that I’ve read Tom Hiddleston/Reader fanfiction.

Then one day, I have a truly shitty and overwhelmingly stressful day at work. My parents were on vacation and my sister was on a work trip, so even after everything he was still next in line for who I wanted to talk to to process this. He talked me through the issue and how to best cope with it and then the conversation strayed. It was the first time since Car Ride of Pain that we actually acknowledged what was discussed. He was curious why I spoke to my feelings then. I discussed the times I wanted to bring it up earlier and he confirmed it was for the best that I did not then (especially the night of the big work party). He gave me advice about flirting on apps like Hinge and Bumble, it was kinda weird but I could use all the advice I could get. And then he offered another piece of “friendly advice”. To paraphrase, he recommended that I reconsider my decision not to drink alcohol and make sure I am doing it for me and not because of my upbringing; because guys on dates will worry that I don’t know how to relax and be loose around them if I do not have at least one drink on a date. He even admitted that he thought about what it would be like to date me but the fact that neither me or my family drinks was a problem because he could not see our lifestyles being compatible. Admittedly, my family does not drink for religious reasons. However, when I was old enough I knew I did not want to drink alcohol because of my poor impulse control regarding food and drink (even if that drink is Diet Dr Pepper). When I got to a restaurant, I don’t have a soda, I have seven. Consequently, I made the decision to not even open the door to drinking alcohol.

However, in a series of decisions I am embarrassed and genuinely not proud of, I took his words to heart and decided to experiment with alcohol. I framed it as wanting to build some confidence before I put myself back out there in the dating world, but really I wanted to show that I was fun and cool, and could live in his world. Had some spiked Simply Lemonade to test the waters which was not great but fine. Daphne recommended a rum and coke as a starter drink but when I tried it at home it was so gross that I had to brush my teeth three times after. And then when my friend group went out to our usual bar on Sunday night, I ordered the fruity drink the 22 year old in the group usually orders and inhaled it in about thirty seconds. So I got another. Trying to see what the buzz was really like, when really the biggest rush was the pleased look on his face when I ordered the second drink. In reality, alcohol just makes me sleepy (and want to cuddle but not exactly the venue for that). There was another work party that was BYOB and I brought some fruity Seagrams and when my boss commented this was the first of the parties that I drank at he joked that our friend group was corrupting me. Nearly a hundred bucks later, and the only thing close to a buzz was wanting to go to bed at 11pm one time, and I calculated that I didn’t actually enjoy alcohol at all. It finally dawned on me just how stupid drinking to impress a guy is, and just how terrible Jared’s advice was. That’s not the kind of advice you want from a potential romantic partner, and even more that’s not the kind of advice a good friend would give. In hindsight, I should’ve seen this straight away as a sign that this is not the kind of person to pursue nor the kind of person I should be friends with.

A while after the drinking debacle, Jared has been radio silent for a long time. When we interact at work on occasion, he’s noticeably distant and acting kind of weird. My instinct was telling me to reach out to him just to check that everything’s ok given his previous mental health struggles and also that he still has me (at this point in time) as a friend. Then he shows up to the Sunday night hangout for the first time in forever. A decent chunk of my friend group is chronically and comically late, so it’s me, Jared, and one of the managers with his girlfriend. Jared had stepped away for a phone call earlier in the evening for a while which was… weird, but I still ignored instincts. Then all of a sudden, I look in Jared’s direction and can’t help but see he has a picture of a girl on his lockscreen that is usually some car-related pic. At this point, I really thought I had fully moved on and was okay with being just friends. Even to the point that I was comfortable being frank with him in talking about the time period where I was halfway in love with him. But seeing the photo of the girl, and the fact that he never even dropped a text to make me aware he was dating somebody, made old wounds fresh again. I waved for the waitress to get my check and then it was a race against the clock to not start sobbing in the middle of this bar in front of my friends who know nothing about my history with Jared at this point. Literally as soon as I get my debit card back and sign the receipt, I walk as fast as I can without running to get out of my car and the tears come the instant I make it through the door. It really is a less than pleasant experience to finally be able to relate to Taylor Swift lyrics but he wasn't mine to lose and I really had been living the past several months for the hope of it all. And now that hope is shattered. He was ready to date again, and once again it was not me that he wanted. My romantic dream had always been that I would find someone that really got to know me, and would then decide that they wanted more of me in their life. Once again that did not happen. I opened myself to him in so many ways: the dark thoughts, the imperfections, my hyperfixations and the weird sense of humor that follows, and it was not a package he was interested in. So I cried and I cried that night and mourned the hope of what could have been because it wasn’t going to happen.

So let's see how being 1000% platonic friends with Jared goes. I’m at over 6,000 words in this saga and it’s 2am so I’m going to be more concise in this part. I get an awesome career opportunity to take more responsibility and have a chance to develop a team and demonstrate my leadership skills to senior management. My family and the majority of my friends were super excited for me. I explain the change to Jared and he goes “Huh. That’s an interesting choice.” And in that moment I couldn’t tell which hurt more: him not thinking that I’m going to be great at this and expressing that he’s excited for me or the fact that apparently I still value his opinion of me so damn much. Then it’s July and I’m making plans to celebrate my 30th birthday. In one of our many long text conversations, I had opened up to him about not have friends growing up and then even when I made friends they were long distance, so I was so excited to not just enjoy the festivities of a milestone birthday but be able to have a birthday with friends present that care about me and are happy to celebrate me. So I send the text to the group chat 3 weeks in advance (enough time to make plans around but not so far ahead people forget) with info for a birthday dinner at a nearby restaurant and then potentially seeing Barbie. I even made sure to schedule it after everyone’s shift would be over to ensure as many people as possible could come. Everyone begins to reply that they are coming, including Jared, and then two days later I get a “sorry I can’t go” text without further explanation. And from that point he basically dropped out of my life.

It was then the realization that I had avoided for a while hit. Some of my friends had said throughout all of this that he was putting me on a shelf but being nice enough about so he could always come back later when he needed the ego boost. I didn’t want to believe it and rationalized that couldn’t be the case because my long distance friends never met him and only knew half of the equation. But I now realize how right they were. Jared was going through a shitty time in his life when he got close to me, and in every conversation I complimented him.This made the pattern for him to talk to me when he was feeling down and my unconditional support and adoration made him feel better, and even after the feelings conversation that occurred in the Car Ride of Pain he could keep this pattern going with the tiniest bit of flirting. Then his life got better from the previous year, he’s no longer experiencing professional burnout and got himself a girlfriend again– making no need to go through the effort of maintaining a friendship with me.

So why write nearly 7000 words about this now? Well, it's definitely been a catharsis to be able to let this all out. But the catharsis was mainly needed, because I have been able to ignore all the hurt from July and the 18 months prior by simply not being around him and now I have a mandatory meeting where I see him once a week and have to act all cheery and professional.

On its own a birthday party does seem like a silly thing to end a friendship over, but it really was the straw that broke the camel’s back. It was now clear, especially after writing all of this out, that as much as I had thought about him, paid attention to every detail of every conversation, etc. that he did not hold our conversations and our friendship in a remotely similar level of regard. Plainly, I deserve better from people I consider a friend. But in order to heal from the end of a friendship, I have to acknowledge that this all happened and it was a very important part of my life for some time.

Now that it’s written down, he can be just a story. An anecdote to note the end of my twenties. He can be one of the managers that works on the first floor and is neighbors with my boss and one of my friends. That’s it and that’s okay.

The End

#personal essay #not sure if oversharing on tumblr is the smartest move but here we go

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heeracha · 3 years ago

Text

[ screw dms/texts. let's talk in gdocs! ] — s. jake

content/warning(s): college bf!jake x gn!reader, title's pretty self-explanatory, whipped bf!jake, fluff <3,, also, unproof read :P

wc: 0.6k

note: ,,,,yes, i was procrastinating on what i should be doing. but anyway, tysm for 200 followers AAAAAAAAAA <3

you grin goofily as your eyes remain on the screen of your laptop which was opened in the google docs site, waiting for your partner and boyfriend to see what you did. you could just honestly picture boyfriend!jake sighing, scratching his head as he sees what you did with the file. but of course, jake is one whipped guy for you, so he will eventually laugh at it, anyway.

jake is one for doing the work as fast as possible, but he knows you would always goof around when using google docs. but if you both use microsoft word, it's more hassle than the other, so he had to pick the former. since, you two were partnered for the thesis research (which is also the cause of the semester long relationship), you both have a reason to spend more time together. but not now, since jake had something else for another subject.

what did you do anyway? oh, nothing. you just put a picture of jake in the file, under the third related literature with a doodle saying 'i may not be lang leav who writes poetry about love, but all i know is i love this guy so much <3' with heart doodles around his face... and drawing cat nose and ears.

within a minute, you see jake typing under your—as you'd like to call it—"masterpiece".

baby, i love you, too but focus on your work.

soon, jake erases his message along with your "masterpiece" as he continues to work on his part. but of course, you're stubborn. you were honestly not in the mood to work yet, being the big procrastinator that you are, so.. yes, you started to type in another message, somewhere near where jake is typing—but not on the actual part where he is typing, so you wouldn't mess it up.

how's your day? :>

jake laughs as he sees it, typing in that he's okay and asking how's your day in return. of course, jake knows you're not in the mood, so he expected a long answer from you, which you did. you told him how the day went from the moment you woke up to now, talking to him through google docs (which is cool in your opinion. dms, texts, etc. are overrated!).

after an hour of jake letting you procrastinate, he calls you through facetime and immediately, he was greeted with your pouting face to which he laughed. "baby, i know you're still lazy to do our work, but let's get this done so we can talk all night, deal?" he says and without removing the pout from your lips, you nod to which he laughed at (i swear, the man is whipped for you. everything you do is cute in his eyes).

"this way, you won't get distracted, okay? i'm watching you." jake says and you chuckle lightly.

"you sound like an fbi agent." you say to which jake laughs. you start doing your work, trying to do it fast, wanting to just talk and spend time with your boyfriend. within an hour and half of working, jake stands up from his spot.

"i'll be back. i'm just going to the restroom." jake says and you hum, smiling lightly. you keep working and to your surprise, the file shifts and you let out a surprised sound as you scroll up, wondering what happened.

you find yourself smiling at what jake did. he added a meme of the famous duck plushie, holding a trophy (but what seems like a doll goblet in reality) with a heart pasted on it, saying 'you won my heart' on the side.

proud of you, baby. love you. <3

#I WANT A COLLEGE BOYFRIEND WHO WOULD TALK TO ME THROUGH GOOGLE DOCS #enhypen imagines #enhypen reactions #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #jake imagines #jake scenarios #jake reactions #jake fluff #jake x reader

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secretsandwriting · 3 years ago

Text

So I’m testing some new things out with this so you guys will have to tell me what you think!

I’ve also come to the conclusion that while Timothee isn’t my favorte celebrity I like writing for him.

Also, I have no idea how movie premieres work so this is really just a guess and could be completely wrong.

Word Count - 1609

Beta Read - by google docs

Navigating through the crowded streets of New York was getting to be something you were good at. Moving there had definitely been a culture shock but after getting used to it, it was pretty nice. But now, you needed to get coffee and work on your French for one of your classes.

Ordering and setting yourself up, you started the assigned video and prayed it would make sense and you wouldn’t have to add another hour or two of study to your already full schedule. But as fate would have it, it sounded like gibberish.

Restarting the video to try again, you were pulled out of your studies by a burning sensation going down your arm. Pulling out your headphones you looked down at your arm to brown soaking into the sleeve.

“I’m so sorry!” The guy in front of you looked familiar but due to his mask it took a moment for it to sink in. Timothee Chalamet. He was an actor, but that wasn’t important. What was important? He knew french.

“That’s not important. Do you have any free time right now? I know you know french and I need to learn it and this makes no sense and it’s due in two hours.” You definitely caught him off guard, but he checked his phone.

“I have an hour.” He pulled a chair over and you handed him one of your earbuds. For the next hour he helped you, he was a lot better than the video your teacher had given you.

“Here,” he handed you a slip of paper. “If you need more help just text me and I’ll help when I can.”

“Thank you! With your help, I’ll at least pass.” He laughed and you said your goodbyes before he went on his way and you worked on finishing the rest of your homework.

While you worked, you didn’t notice the girls in the corner watching you with their phones out and slightly pointed at you.

The next day, you almost regretted asking Timothee for help when you woke up to your phone being blown up by friends and social media. There were multiple pictures of you and Timothee as well as multiple dating theories. One of the notifications stood out, Timothee had messaged you on Instagram.

You didn’t really talk until your next assignment came and you texted him about it. Together you decided to meet at one of the libraries. This time you knew that you would be spending time with a celebrity and people would notice so you made sure you at least looked alive. That way if there were pictures posted online at least you wouldn’t look like too much of a mess. Apparently Timothee noticed.

“You look nice.”

“Well, the chances of pictures being taken are pretty big so I at least want to look alive and not like I just rolled out of bed.” He snorted and you chatted for a few minutes before getting to work.

This time it was a bigger assignment so it took a few hours instead of one. But it didn’t seem to be so long, it felt like time had flown by and it was finished immediately. Timothee was interesting, you two could have fun but when needed it could be serious.

So when you split ways and Timothee started texting you an hour later, you didn’t feel like he was trying anything. It just felt like you were talking to a friend you had known for years. Then, you had plans to hang out two days later when he was free. The plan was to got to a park and play with kids and act like a kid, simply to feel like you didn’t have so much on your plate and could just have fun for an afternoon.

The interview he asked you about, was before you were meeting to go to a park and act like you were children, not adults who had jobs and college. But that was the plan, and exactly what you did.

The two of you ended up chasing each other until all the other kids at the park wanted to play with the two of you. The parents watched the two of you close when you played with them but that was to be expected.

Timothee was good with kids. Not just good, amazing. All the little girls were absolutely in love with him while all the boys were amazed by how strong he was.

However, as most people know. Kids have no filter, therefore they ask any question that comes to their brain. Hence the 30 different times you had to tell them that you weren’t dating and you were just friends having fun. Some of the parents seemed to think so too, one of them basically told you.

“Thank you for playing with Maggie, she had a blast and she’ll probably sleep well tonight.” The lady looked relieved at the thought. “You and your boyfriend would be good with kids if you decide to have them.”

“He’s not my boyfriend. We just met a month ago and we just came here to have some fun.” She nodded but you could tell she didn’t believe you. Trying to ignore what she said you turned and went back to playing with the kids.

It was after two hours of playing different games, the two of you decided that you were out of energy. Timothee offered getting a meal and you agreed. And that’s how you ended up in a Mcdonalds.

For the next few months, you would meet up for assignments or just to hang out. The press had a hayday with it but after a while it was easy to ignore and then it became more fun to do funny poses every once in a while.

Then he had to go work on a movie so your contact was left to text, phone calls, and facetime. It worked but it wasn’t as good as meeting in person. He still helped with your french until the semester was over part way through his movie.

“Timmy!!! I passed!!!” You held up your phone to the camera on your computer so he could see through his screen. It was amazing and you owed it all to him. Last semester you had barely passed and that had been with 4 times the amount of studying then you had done today. Timothee was godsent.

“Yes! You did it!” You celebrated for a little bit before he got serious. “Y/n, since you passed I know what we can do to celebrate. When this is over, you should come as my plus one to the movie premiere.”

“The movie premiere?!” He nodded, you could see how nervous he was in his eyes. “I have one question.” He nodded, waiting for you to ask. “What am I supposed to wear.” He snorted.

“I’ll talk with my manager and see what he says.” So that was the plan. You kept talking with him, but now it was less about school and more for the fun of it.

When the movie premiere came close Timothee got an answer to your question. Though he almost seemed hesitant to tell you.

“You just have to go get measured and go to a few fittings. The brand making my suit is making you a matching dress.” You would be matching with Timothee sure, you were going as his plus one, or date depending on who you ask. But brand? This dress sounded like it was going to cost more than your college tuition.

“Ok, when and where do I need to go?” He gave you his manager’s private number so you talk straight with him and get all the details. Little did you know, that that was the beginning of the storm.

Somehow it got out that you were going with Timothee and even getting matching outfits. Soon, your phone was being blown up by people trying to get details and even shows asking you to come on and talk about it. Timothee’s manager called you and offered to be your manager until this all calmed down, mostly because this affected Timothee but the offer was still appreciated and accepted.

He texted you a link and told you to post it in all of your public social media bios titled ‘Manager’s contact’. While it wasn’t something most celebrities did, you had just been dragged into this. It would start as a base line until things were figured out.

Through this mess, Timothee kept apologizing even when you said it was ok and it wasn’t the worst thing that could happen. You thought the manager would be enough but then you ended up sharing Timothee’s booking agent too. Apparently everyone wanted to talk with you.

A few days after agreeing, you learned that the episode would be realised a week before the premiere, but hopefully it would go well. You were also told that Timothee would be doing the interview with you which made you feel a lot better.

Timothee came back the day before you had to fly to California so you were going to let him take the day to rest because frankly it was a lot, but he showed up at your door with his suitcase. He hadn’t even gone home.

“Timmy! What are you doing he-” He cut you off.

“Can I kiss you?” What? That wasn’t what you expected. While you stood there staring at him completely confused, he started shifting around a little bit and playing with his hands.

“Yeah.” That’s all it took for him to get his confidence back.

Request:

Hey, I really love your writing.

Can I request something with Thimothée Chalamet? Maybe like they meet at a coffee shop and he accidentally spills his coffee on her and then they become friends and they progressively fall in love with each other? If you can’t I understand.

Thank you 🤍

#timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet x y/n #timothee chalamet x you #timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet

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hot-wiings · 4 years ago

Text

The One Where After His Recovery, Tensei Iida realizes Life Is To Precious And Short.

Requested By: Wattpad User

Edited: 1-13-2021

"You can do it!"

You yelled out to Tensei Iida from the top of a hill. It wasn't very steep, it was a slow gradual incline. He was at the bottom of the hill in his wheelchair trying to push himself up alone. This was all part of his long recovery from the attack on him in Hosu. The attack that left him crippled. The attack that forced him to take early retirement.

He knew was never going to get his ability to walk back, he had given up on that long before his younger brother got Recovery Girl, his school nurse, to try and help him. Tensei knew how her quirk worked, and if the best of the best, the woman with the greatest medic type quirk couldn't heal him, nothing would.

"Tensei, babe! You got this!"

Tensei tried to push on the handles attached to the wheels of his chair and push up the hill. He knew he’d never get his walk back, all he could do now was work on adjusting to his new life. Adjust to wheelchairs, adjust to never using his legs again, adjust to getting taken care of for the rest of his life. He tried but it was futile, going uphill was just so hard on his own. He wasn’t there yet, wasn’t strong enough yet.

He hated this. He absolutely hated this. He hated depending on you. You were giving everything up for him. You barely worked anymore, you were always with him. You ran around and did errands for him. You went grocery shopping, you did his laundry, you did his dishes, you helped him get in the bath, and you wheeled him around. You were constantly accommodating your schedule and life for him. He was sick of it. You were his girlfriend, not his caretaker. He hated helplessly watching as people had to accommodate him, but he hated it most watching you give up everything.

"I can't do it! Can we find a smaller hill?!"

You jogged down the hill with a smile on your face. Why were you always smiling? Didn't you realize what a burden he was? How awful your life was going to be constantly taking care of him? You’d started to hate him, and your sex life wasn't going to be what it used to be.

"I don't see why you're in such a rush to push yourself around. The doctor said it’s going to take time to get used to it, besides we live together, I'm always gonna be there to help you. Getting sick of me already?"

You grabbed the handles on the top of Tensei’s wheelchair and turned him around. Further away from the hill he couldn't get over and closer towards the busy streets of Japan. Tensei clenched his fists as he tried to answer you. You'd been together since high school, years of your relationship taught him that there were going to be ups and downs, it taught him he needed to be honest above all else. He wanted to be honest, he wanted to tell you how much of a burden he was, but he didn't want to lose you. Not after all these years, not after how much you meant to him.

"I don't want to always depend on you. I... I don't like this. I don't like you always pushing me around, you should be focusing on your career. If I just push myself, then I’d be able to get groceries on my own, I could go run the errands instead."

"Don't say it like that."

You pushed the wheelchair up to a busy road and pressed the button on the street lamp. You walked in front of the chair and squatted down so you could talk to Tensei on a more equal level. You grabbed onto his hands as your eyes met and you gave Tensei a warm smile.

"You're not a burden, so don't act like it. I like running around and doing errands for you. We live together, and groceries are a need for us both so don't act like it's some inconvenience."

You stood back up and stretched out your body, tired limbs stretching as you arched your back. Pushing Tensei could get tiring sometimes, but only because you lacked the muscles to push all his body mass around.

"As for my career, I'm a writer. It can done from home."

"You're a news writer. You need to be out in the streets, reporting news. Not on the couch, editing your college's work from a shared google docs document. They get all the credit, and you don't."

You crossed your arms and huffed at your boyfriend. He was being stupid. Stupid and unfair. After all the years you'd been together, after junior high and high school, after college and getting your first jobs. He should've known by now how much he meant to you. He should've known how important and priceless to you he was. He should've known you weren't letting him go, crippled or not.

"I am a news writer, but news gets boring very quickly. Maybe I’ll write a book instead. 'Love For Dummies', how is that for a title?"

"Just because you've been in a long stable relationship doesn't mean you can write that. People who switch jobs like that are unhappy."

"I’m referring to you, you dumbass!"

You and Tensei had begun yelling at each other, heatedly pointing and scowling, not even caring that citizens and bystanders were staring at you. In your heat of rage, you had stomped your foot and stepped on a pebble. It knocked you off balance and you began to slip back into the busy road. Without thinking, Tensei used his hands and with all his might he pushed his chair forward, grabbed your shirt, and pulled you onto him before rolling backward.

"You're so dumb. Are you trying to die or just get crippled like me? You should've taken the back streets, you could've ride."

"I slipped, it was an accident, I'm sorry."

Your body felt uncomfortable being sprawled out on top of Tensei haphazardly. You felt like you were crushing his legs, but you knew he couldn't feel them anyway. Your little sniffles drew Tensei’s attention to you.

"Hey, don't cry. I'm sorry, you’re not dumb."

"It’s not that, I just... You think I'm unhappy with you?"

Tensei ran his fingers through your hair, and you tried to hold back your tears. It just hurt. It hurt knowing that your partner felt so hopeless and feeling so fruitless, and you couldn't do anything.

"I know you're unhappy, you just don’t realize it yet. There are so many news breaks that happened the past few weeks, and you couldn’t catch any of them because you were with me. You’re missing out on your dreams, you’re gonna realize it after all your opportunity is gone and you'll be so unhappy."

"You're so wrong. I'm not gonna be unhappy. I'll never be unhappy with you. I only ever became a news writer because you became a hero. It’s so stupid, I know, but after you told me you were going to be a hero I decided to be a news writer. That way, even if we broke up, I’d still be able to chase after you. I don’t care what kind of life it is, I want you Tensei. Tensei, you were my first love, and I’ll be damned if anyone but you is my last."

You tried to pull yourself up off of Tensei, sure your added weight must be hurting him somehow despite not having legs, but he wrapped his arms around you to keep you there.

"I wasn't planning on asking you this, but it appeared to me that life is short. Will you marry me?"

"Yes, yes. God yes. A million times yes. We're gonna have your brother as the best man, and we'll invite your old coworkers, and god, we have to tell your mom, she's gonna be so excite-"

Tensei presses his lips against yours frantically, you both smile into the kiss and pull apart before erupting in laughter. You were completely oblivious from the forming crowd. Oblivious to the people, the people who recognised Tensei Iida, the newly retired Ingenium. Oblivious to the crowd holding up their phones and recording your near death proposal, all that mattered was each other.

"Let's go home first, okay? Then we can start planning."

404 notes · View notes

eternally-writing · 4 years ago

Text

chain reaction 02 | jjk

genre: fluff and angst

rating: PG

pairing: Jungkook x reader

theme: college!au , enemies to lovers, series

word count: 4.6k

warnings: light swearing

synopsis: A semester with your mortal enemy, Jeon Jungkook, as your lab partner was bound to be an experience to remember.

banner by me!

read part 1 here!

If you want to be tagged in future parts, send me an ask!

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

When you had imagined what Jeon Jungkook’s apartment would look like, you had definitely thought it would look something like an evil lair (except messy, because Jungkook definitely struck you as the messy type).

However, upon stepping into his surprisingly well-finished apartment, you found the exact opposite case. Before this, you had planned to make a ton of jokes based on whatever you would find in Jungkook’s apartment. And the truth was, you still could.

Jeon Jungkook was an absolute neat freak. You watched the way he subtly shuddered as a fleck of dirt from your shoes travelled off of his doormat and you took note of how his kitchen counter was so clean you could probably eat directly off of it (which was especially rare from someone in college). If he had a roommate, there was no trace of him right now, as the apartment pretty much looked like a showhome.

“I didn’t know you were such a clean freak, Jeon,” you said with a smirk.

For the first time, you saw Jeon Jungkook look the slightest bit timid.

“I like to keep things tidy, I guess,” he said while rubbing the back of his neck with his right hand.

He gestured for you to enter his quaint but somehow spacious living room as he sped to the kitchen to grab you a glass of water (he may not like you, but he’d be damned by his mother if she found out he let a guest into his place without giving them a beverage).

You had a very clear game plan when it came to entering Jeon Jungkook’s apartment: Enter. Talk about the project (and nothing else). Grab the chemistry notes from the class you missed on Monday. Leave.

It definitely seemed like an easy peasy 4 step plan - except that all seemed to flow out the window once you saw the photo Jungkook kept on his coffee table. From what you could decipher, it looked like a high school aged Jungkook in a music studio, right in front of the mic, with some of his friends around him. You had never seen Jungkook smile as big as he was in that picture, and it even managed to pull at your heartstrings.

Before you could open your mouth to ask about it, Jungkook had already come over to you and slammed the picture to be face down on the table, leaving smiley high school Jungkook out of sight.

“An invitation into my apartment isn’t an invitation into my private life, Y/N. Don’t get it twisted.” he said coldly, dropping the glass of water hashly onto a coaster by the picture frame.

To be fair, you kind of deserved that (and looking into Jungkook’s personal life definitely wasn’t part of your 4 step plan to seeing him today), but he didn’t have to be that mean. As a peace offering you moved as far away from the photo frame as you could.

“Let’s just get this over with, Jeon. I have a pilates class in an hour on the other side of campus.”

Now Jungkook couldn't pass up that opportunity to make a joke.

“Pilates, mmm.” He let out an overexaggerated moan to make his point.

“ Think you can slip my number to the hot girls there Y/N,” said Jungkook with a smirk.

“In your dreams Jeon. You’re lucky if any girls will still want your number if you fail organic chemistry, which is what you’re going to do if we don’t work on this project.”

“I think you’re forgetting Y/N.” he said as he bent down, bringing his lips to your ear - “if I go down I’m taking you with me sunshine”.

Ignoring how his close proximity to you was making your heart race (it was probably due to anger, right??), you jumped away from him and pulled out your macbook.

“Our group contract is due tomorrow so let’s just finish that up and then I’ll be out of your hair okay?” you said with an air of desperation and potentially sexual frustration.

For the most part, you and Jungkook worked in silence besides the occasional sound of you typing or clearing your throat. Looking at the live google doc in front of you and the progress you both were making, you were starting to think that working with Jungkook might not be the worst thing in the world.

Jeon Jungkook and Y/N L/N : CHEM 251 LAB PRESENTATION CONTRACT

Topic - Green Chemistry

1. Answer all communication from your partner (emails, messages) within 24 hours

2. Complete all portions of assignments at least 1 day before it is due.

3. Any changes to your availability should be communicated to your partner.

4. Y/N will handle the background literature and introduction of the presentation.

5. Jungkook will look for future applications of Green Chemistry and direct applications of course material in the field of Green Chemistry.

6. Don’t fall in love with your partner.

As soon as you saw Jungkook type the last point on the document, you glared at him beside you on the couch.

“Seriously Jeon? I forgot you have the mindset of a 13 year old boy,” you muttered as he looked at you cockily.

You took a deep breath as your internal monologue started to run:

Okay, Y/N. you’re not here to let Jeon Jungkook mess with you. 3 strikes and you’re out of here - there’s no reason to need to keep up with his bullshit (especially since at least the first part of your project was over).

Jungkook had then had to add more rules to your group contract.

7. Y/N will give out Jungkook’s number to any hot girl at her pilates class.

You groaned and hastily deleted off the document.

That was strike 1 for Jungkook. 3 strikes and he’s out.

Jungkook was still relentless in his attacks.

“Seriously though Y/N, do you really not think I’m attractive at all? You really don’t want a piece of this?,” he said as he wiggled his eyebrows and gestured to his body all too suggestively.

“Cut it out Jeon, I’m not dealing with your shit today,” you hissed, your eyes shooting metaphorical lasers into Jungkook.

Strike 2: He’s getting close.

“C’mon Y/N, what’s the chance that you’ll ever be able to bag someone as hot as me. I mean, look at me and look at you!”

Strike 3: you were DONE with Jeon Jungkook today.

Not even stopping to put on your shoes fully, you took one last glance back at him before you walked out the door.

“Fuck you, Jeon Jungkook.”

The glass of water he got you sat untouched on his coffee table, drops of water spilling onto the photo frame beside it due to his apartment shaking from you slamming his door.

Mirroring the new droplets on his coffee table, you found tears starting to drop across your face as well.

--♡--

Even though you loved your chemistry lecture, you’re not sure why chemistry labs had such a bad vibe to you. The most obvious explanation for this would be having Jeon Jungkook as a lab partner (especially after your last meeting, the situation speaks for itself). But what could be is probably at least part of the reason is because of what happened in your first year 8AM chem lab. After getting through a grueling 3 hour titration (that you messed up and got no results for in the end), you walked back to your dorm to find your (now ex) boyfriend Jimin in bed with your roommate, Soomi.

Needless to stay you left that day with one less friend, no boyfriend (and you had also gotten 16/30 on that lab… yikes), so chemistry labs did leave a little bit of a bad taste in your mouth.

It had been months since that incident, but even after getting a new lease and cutting any ties you remotely had to Jimin, you still carried the insecurity that Jimin instilled in you by cheating on you with someone who you thought of as a sister.

You had yet to run into Jimin against post-breakup, and had managed to successfully avoid him, until now.

“Y/N?”

You knew that voice all too well. Turning around, you were met with the sight of your ex, Jimin. As if that wasn’t bad enough, as you looked him over you noticed your old roommate, Soomi, hanging off of his arm. You had no clue that they were still together (you had lost all contact with anyone remotely related to Jimin), and somehow seeing them together hurt you even more.

Jimin looked even prettier than you had last remembered him; his prince-like hair shone in the afternoon sun, his charming smile seemed even brighter. Knowing Jimin was still with Soomi made you feel that he didn’t even feel a pang of regret for cheating on you, like he didn’t need to take some time by himself to reflect (like you definitely did) or stop to grieve your relationship. From your point of view, it seemed like you never even mattered to Jimin.

You suddenly felt self conscious of everything under the judgmental gazes of Jimin and Soomi. Those baby hairs that you didn’t bother to pin down with a bobby pin this morning now felt like they were sticking straight out of your head and the pimple that was poking through your concealer on your forehead suddenly felt like a volcano. In your mind, compared to Soomi, you looked like a hot mess.

Your brain was on autopilot for all the small-talk you made with the two of them, and you didn’t snap out of your trance until you heard these words from Jimin.

“I only wish the best for you Y/N”

You internally scoffed at this statement. Who the fuck was Park Jimin to say that he “wishes the best for you”. You took months to get over him and the hurtful words he said to you. Every mean comment and snarky comparisons he made to you felt like it was tattooed onto your skin and stuck with you forever. But now he was standing in front of you like nothing was wrong?

In a different world, you probably would’ve slapped Jimin across the face. But instead you rose above like your mom taught you to.

“You as well Jimin.” you said courtly with a nod, trying to stop the tears that were pricking at your eyes from escaping your tear ducts.

After receiving a small nod from Jimin as a response, you turned around as if you had somewhere to be (in reality, you didn’t have class for another 2 hours).

Getting as far away from Jimin was all you could think about at the moment, and you moved as far as your legs could take you in whatever direction you thought would take you out of your college’s quad, even as the tears falling from your eyes blurred your vision.

You didn’t know how to feel. You had imagined what seeing Jimin for the first time after the break up would look like; maybe he would grovel at his knees and beg to have you back (it’s not that you wanted to date him again or that you had feelings for him, but it would feel nice to feel wanted), maybe you would just throw a drink in his face and walk away like a bad bitch, maybe you could’ve flashed a new boyfriend in front of his face.

All of a sudden your phone started to ring. Your first fear (and somewhat hope) was that it would be Jimin calling you, but little did you know that it was something so much worse.

Incoming Call: Jeon Boy

“as if this day couldn’t get any worse,” you thought to yourself as you pressed decline. You had yet to talk to Jungkook since that day at his apartment (you didn’t even call to congratulate him on his

Incoming Call: Jeon Boy

You groaned and hit the decline but at the speed of lightning again.

Incoming Call: Jeon Boy

Seriously, could this guy not take a hint? You were tempted to turn your phone off all together, but settled for hitting the decline button again.

Incoming Call: Jeon Boy

You realized that for whatever reason, Jungkook was not giving up, so you either had to answer him or listen to your ringtone of “Love Killa” by Monday X play every 10 seconds. Praying that your voice wouldn’t betray you, you took a deep (albeit shaky) breath and tried your best to wipe your tears before clicking “answer”.

“Look Jeon, I’m - uh - sorry but I really can’t do this right now okay? I’ll call you later.” you choked out, your voice obviously wavering as you tried to be as professional as possible.

Before you could press the “end call button” you heard Jungkook’s concerned voice through the speakers.

“Y/N, wait, you don’t sound too good. Are you okay?”

Ah yes, “are you okay” - probably the most loaded question a person could ever ask.

You probably could’ve kept it together if he had asked any other question, but his “are you ok” truly pulled at your heartstrings.

You felt your chest tightening but you tried your best to help the feeling subside. You had yet to show weakness about how Jimin had affected you to anyone, and you sure as hell weren’t going to start with Jeon Jungkook. Clutching at your chest and taking a few deep breaths in an effort to calm your racing heart, you continued on.

“Is that genuine concern I’m hearing from you Jeon? Be careful, you’re losing your bad boy persona,” you said as you tried to make a joke to distract him.

“Y/N, no. I’m serious. are. you. okay.”

You couldn’t handle it anymore. Sobs broke free from your chest and you heaved into the phone, your whimpers and whines striking Jungkook on the other side of the phone.

“I, I can’t- I just-“

The words barely broke through your sobs. Your chest was tightening and you could barely hear Jungkook through the ringing in your ears.

“Y/N where are you, I’m coming’” said Jungkook. You could hear the jingling of his car keys and the rustling of him putting on shoes.

As if mother nature felt your pain, the rain started pouring down on you at the same time.

You barely got out any more words to Jungkook, but he didn’t hang up on you. He just kept whispering comforting phrases, trying to calm you down from afar as you could hear his car engine roaring in the background (in another world, you definitely would’ve yelled at him for using his phone while driving). You barely even registered that Jungkook was there at all. Every memory of you and Jimin seemed to reopen like a fresh wound, and you couldn’t feel anything except the pain. All you could do was sit on a random curb by the edge of campus, your wails probably reaching the sorority houses nearby.

You felt broken. The sound of the thunder overhead mixed with your cries as the rain pelted you, soaking your thin sweatshirt. You don’t know how much time passed there. In your head, it felt like time was frozen, while for Jungkook it felt like he was wasting hours zooming through campus (he truly was zooming - a month later he found out that he had accumulated 3 speeding tickets trying to find you, but he would never tell you that).

“Oh, sunshine,” he murmured, voice laced with pity and concern as he pulled over his car on the curb in front of you.

You and Jungkook hadn’t even said a word to each other since the feud at his apartment, and you had absolutely zero clue how he even managed to figure out where you were through your jumbled phone call. But all you knew is that right now you needed him. You needed someone to give you a bit of comfort, and Jungkook was somehow here to do that for you. Despite everything between you twom you couldn’t hide the feeling of relief that ran through your body as you looked up and saw Jungkook in front of you.

Coming to your side, Jungkook crouched beside you.

“Jungkook”, you wept as he pulled you into his chest. It was probably one of the first times you had actually addressed him by his first name, which came as a surprise to him.

Holding you closer, Jungkook couldn’t help but feel protective over you. He couldn’t help but hurt with you as he saw your fragile figure shaking in his arms.

“You’re gonna be okay now Y/N, okay? I’m here. I’m here for you. I’m not going anywhere.”

And in that moment, on a dirty curbside off campus, you weren’t Jeon boy and little miss sunshine, mortal enemies and chemistry lab partners. Instead, you were just Jeon Jungkook and Y/N., and nothing else seemed to matter at the moment.

--♡--

To your surprise (and the surprise of anyone else who knows you), you and Jungkook had not been stepping on each other’s toes as much. What had started out as extreme, extreme dislike had turned into a mild dislike (maybe even a very slight enjoyment of his presence, although you weren't about to admit that anytime soon). And of course, you both refuse to acknowledge the “Jimin incident” that had occurred a week ago and you both refuse to believe that it may have had something to do with you and Jungkook not hating each other. Your emails stopped being signed off with “do your part Jeon, or else” and instead now usually started with “Hey Jeon!” and “Thanks, Y/N”

That brought you here, in your apartment on a Friday night, eating old pizza in an old sweatshirt, no bra, and some comfy shorts that had definitely been through the wash one too many times. Researching for your chemistry project, you chuckled at how much of a londer you would look to an outsider. Sending off the articles you found on Green Chemistry to Jungkook, you closed out the email with some casual pleasantries and then turned to continue rewatching episodes of your favourite kdrama. You definitely weren’t expecting a response from Jungkook until Monday. You were sure that someone like him was at a frat party (was he even in a frat? You had no idea). Either way, Jungkook probably was lounging around in some party house with like 6 girls on his arms, while you were doing quite the opposite.

Surprisingly, Jungkook was actually doing quite a similar thing to you. Instead of watching kdramas, he was watching Iron Man (for what was probably the 50th time), and was huddled under a makeship blanket fort like a child and scrolling through reddit. Don’t be mistaken though, Jeon Jungkook was definitely a partier, but he also knew when he needed to give his head (and liver) a break.

He saw his phone chime with a gmail notification. He took a brief scroll through the articles you had sent over to him (those were definitely work for another day since there was no way he could digest academic jargon without at least 3 cups of coffee in him), but he was pleasantly surprised with what you had come up with.

At the same time, the Facebook tab he had open on his Macbook also lit up.

It’s Y/N L/N’s birthday today! Leave a message on her wall to celebrate!

Jungkook’s jaw dropped.

It was your birthday and you were sending him chemistry research papers?? Jungkook chuckled because he could already think of 1000 bad jokes to make fun of you, but he also felt some other feeling that he couldn’t quite place.

Jungkook’s mother had always taught him that it was important to celebrate birthdays, and that is was bad luck that it was He wasn’t sure if it was just a farce that his mother had come up with to make sure that he still attended those family-wide facetime birthday celebrations once he went to college, but either way, he still believed it to some extent.

He had no clue why he was doing this, or how he even got here, but somehow Jungkook found himself in sweatpants and a hoodie in front of your apartment door at 10pm on a Friday night, cake in tow in one hand, his other hand out ready to knock on your door.

On the other side of the door, you were equally astonished. It almost felt like you were seeing a hallucination, as if your email to Jungkook had somehow summoned him to your door. You couldn’t help but rub your eyes in disbelief, just to make sure he was actually there.

“Jungkook?”

Bashful Jungkook seemed to make an appearance again as he tapped his feet in anxiety. And before he could stop himself, words were already tumbling from his mouth”

“Happy birthday?” he said as a question , posing it as if he didn’t know whether facebook was just playing a prank on him (which he honestly didn’t know). “Can I come in?”

You didn’t even really know how to process this situation, but all you could mutter was a “uh, thank you?” in a similar inquirable tone and gesture for him to step into your apartment. If Jeon Jungkook showed up at your door at 10pm on a Friday night, he probably deserved to be heard out.

“You can make yourself comfortable on the couch. Sorry, I wasn’t expecting company otherwise I would have cleaned up a bit.” You were sure that Jungkook’s neat freak brain was probably frying itself into overdrive based on the empty now-empty pizza box sitting on your coffee table and stray utensils and crumbs on your kitchen counter. You felt a little embarrassed that he had to see this.

Mirroring Jungkook’s hospitality last time you were at his place, you brought him a glass of water and hoped that this evening would go a LOT better than the last time you and Jungkook were alone together in an apartment.

Jungkook’s cake was still held in his hands. It was a little cake from the 24/7 cafe on campus; he could only find one that said “happy” with little sunflowers and smiles, so hopefully the “birthday” part of it was implied.

“I, um, I brought cake - for you. I mean your birthday.”

You sat down across from him.

“Oh you didn’t have to Jungkook, uh that’s really nice but you didn’t have to do that,” you said as you leaned further away from the cake, as if it was an item that scared you. “I’m not big on birthdays anyways, just usually me chilling in my apartment!”

However, Jungkook was not planning on taking no as an answer. He tried his best to plead with you, but was still getting nowhere.

“you… you have to do it for my mom!” he said as he thrust the cake even closer to your face.

You tilted your head in confusion at his statement.

“I mean uh-, my mom says that it’s bad luck if you don’t blow out candles on cake on your birthday and that if you don’t do it then you won’t live to your next birthday. And um- i know we’re not friends Y/N but I’d rather see you alive next year”.

Jungkook tried to look as nonchalant and cool as possible, and when he realized his statement was a little too thoughtful he followed it up with a “i mean you could do whatever you want i don’t care it doesn’t matter to me”.

You were beginning to like this side of Jungkook, the one that was more thoughtful than he was a selfish, inconsiderate dude.

Taking the cake softly from his hands, you muttered a soft “thank you”. At this point Jungkook didn’t know whether you took it from his hands to throw it on the ground or actually use it for its intended purpose. As you leaned over to grab the lighter by your candles on your coffee table, Jungkook let out a breath of relief.

Throwing open the cake box, you lit the candle in the cake and stared patiently in front of it.

“Well Jungkook, I believe if I am going to be blowing out candles there should be singing too, no?” You joked with a silly smile on your face.

Knowing he had no way out of this (and to be honest, he secretly wanted to anyways), he began to sing.

You had never heard a more beautiful rendition of happy birthday in your life. Jungkook turned the most mundane song, one that you didn’t have many happy memories with, into a tune that made your heart start to swell with joy. You wished the song was longer, because as he stopped to sing you wanted nothing more than for him to keep going.

“Make a wish, Y/N” , he whispered.

You didn’t know what to wish for. There were a lot of things that needed to be fixed in the world, and lots of things that you needed too (like a new toothbrush, or the experience of true love). It seemed fitting that since you were only blowing out these candles because of Jungkook, you should at least dedicate the wish to him. So all you wished for was for you and Jungkook to get along just like you were in this moment.

You looked up at Jungkook from the cake, and from there all you could say was a sincere “thank you”.

The moment was all too sincere, and you and Jungkook could feel the atmosphere shift to one that was all too intimate and friendly for your relationship. As moving away from a hot flame, you both picked up your phones and mumbled excuses to move away from the situation.

Jungkook was the first to break the ice again.

“I don’t know how good this cake is going to be, the expiry date was at least a week and a half ago”

“Well Jeon Jungkook, if you brought an expired cake into my apartment, it feels like a right of passage that you have to try this cake with me.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from picking up a piece of cake on a fork and shoving it into his mouth. Immediately, his face scrounged up in disgust, and you could pretty much see him gag.

“That cream is… very creamy to stay the least,” he said as he thickly swallowed it down, grimacing the whole time.

His expression made you chuckle. There was something about the way his naturally fluffy hair seemed to move as he swayed like a piece of seaweed on your couch (a mannerism that you had picked up on quite quickly), that made you feel warm inside.

“Considering me sacrificing myself to this cake as a birthday present to you, Y/N”

The laugh that bubbled out of your chest almost made that gross cake worth it to Jungkook. And some words of sincerity slipped out before you could hold them in.

“Best birthday present ever, Jungkook, thank you.

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

Taglist: @apollukee , @mrcleanheichou , @monvieesdaebak

If you want to be tagged, please send me an ask!

If you liked what you read, please interact/follow! Thank you for reading♡

- Emily

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deus-ex-knoxina · 4 years ago

Note

Headcanon prompt: twinyards tie for salutatorian when they graduate. What are their speeches??

this all happens on the same google doc andrew, draft 1: college is the weirdest mcfucking time of your life. gang members won't stop trying to talk to you, you semi-voluntarily wear orange, and at the end of it all you get a piece of paper and absolutely no real world skills why the fuck did we sign up for this

aaron, draft 1, composed independently from andrew's: college is the weirdest mcfucking time of your life. you just want to get through it, get into med school, and maybe not be completely broke. instead you find yourself in the middle of a turf war, your twin's boyfriend keeps interrupting your study time to interrogate you about your family, and to top it all off, you have to wake up before 6 am every single goddamn day. and that’s just sophomore year

andrew, draft 2: fuck this i'm out aaron can be valedictorian

aaron, draft 2: i don't want to be fucking valedictorian if you get up there and half-ass something then anything i say will automatically sound like the word of god

andrew, draft 3: fuck you i can sound like the word of god if i want to

aaron, draft 3: ohohohoho strong words from the man who was about to quit and let me do all the work

andrew, draft 4: hello, everyone. i would like to take this moment to congratulate all of you on your achievement. you have successfully crammed into four years what i decided to do in five. and yet i'm the one leaving here with a seven-digit salary to play sports and not use a single thing from my degree for the rest of my life. sounds like you all made the wrong choice. in your next life, be a jock, but only if you're good at it

aaron, draft 4: was that your attempt at sounding like the word of god? because it fucking sucked andrew, draft 5: let's see you do any better then

aaron, draft 5: good afternoon. i know a lot of you are probably surprised to see a student athlete up here-- when did i have time to even take classes, much less do well in them? honestly, i'm surprised too. but that just goes to show that beating the odds is less about you and more about the people around you. for instance, my brother has an eidetic memory and effortlessly succeeds in all of his classes and now he's going to go play stickball until he gets hit in the face during a game one day and dies. it's fucking awful. my grade point average is entirely driven by spite and i really struggled to not include that detail in my med school applications. thank you very much

andrew, draft 6: i am truly stunned that i am up here addressing you today. i have overcome so many obstacles on my way to being named salutatorian of this year's graduating class. for instance, i fucking hate school

aaron, draft 6: for anybody out there who doesn't know if they have what it takes to succeed, just know this: it's entirely possible that you do, but maybe success won't make you happy. maybe success always has a flip side. like if you're named salutatorian but so is your twin brother who hasn’t studied since before he was old enough to buy alcohol

eventually andrew gives up, refuses to give a speech, and ghostwrites aaron’s for him

#birl celebrates 400 #twinyards #aftg #send me prompts to crackify!!

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purekesseltrash · 4 years ago

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My Fic List

Whelp, decided I should do one of these. I have mostly written for Hockey RPF and BNHA, as you have likely already seen!

My BNHA Fics

Bury Them Deep

- “Shouji Mezou's entire life has revolved around being a goalie and playing hockey since he was five years old. After being drafted in the third round in the NHL, Shouji has two more years of college before moving on to playing professional hockey like he's always wanted. Or at least like he always thought he wanted. An injury that ends his season throws him into a tailspin, forcing him to take a look at his life and how he is going to live it, especially after meeting his fascinating new goth history tutor.”

(This bad bitch is 81k total and is chock full of my red hot hockey takes and midwestern references. I love it very much and it is a sweet baby.)

The Rooftop Necromancy series AKA my black metal band AU:

Downhill from Here

- “ Hizashi just wants to tour the country with his best friends with their metal band in their shitty van like they've been planning for years. He'd successfully hidden his crush on one of them for years, after all, he would definitely be able to make this work and keep things fun and uncomplicated. Until Aizawa decided to start acting weird. “

(In which I take you all on a nostalgic trip to 2006-2008 metal culture and you can see the black metal love song that my dumb ass wrote.)

The Perfect Mistake

- “ It wasn't as though Hizashi had planned on breaking up with his boyfriend while they were on tour in a tiny cargo van with no room and no peace. He would have much rather preferred to do it when they were home and he could easily go and crawl back into his mom's basement. But he didn't have a choice. “

(As relationships tend to do, theirs goes through problems.)

Rooftop Necromancy

-"He’d even ended up leaning into the crowd when someone’s elbow had connected solidly with his nose and thrown him back. They’d gone quiet as Hizashi got himself up to his feet, ripped off his now bloody ‘Within Temptations’ tshirt from 2004, whipped his hair back from his face and screamed, “That’s what I’m FUCKING talking about.” into the mic.

They went wild for it, cheering as blood ran down his nose, past his mouth and dripped onto the stage, leaving him feeling like an otherworldly monster performing an occult ritual. Metal, he thought dazedly to himself, why in the fuck had he ever stopped doing metal."

(I hyperfocused so hard at the idea of Mic as a metal head that I wrote this in seven straight hours and WROTE THROUGH THE ATTEMPTED COUP ON DEMOCRACY WITHOUT KNOWING IT. It’s a bit rough, but it’s got some good parts and it spawned the whole damn series.)

Hands Up

- "But of course he had, they had always been able to read each other and what they meant. That had often been their problem, if he was going to be honest."

(In which they figure their shit out. Basically it was written when I was thinking alot about how my own mental health had evolved through the years. It’s basically the story of two people who are both very good for each other and also very bad and how they deal with that. It’s probably the most personally meaningful thing I’ve ever written.)

The other BNHA fics:

Waking Up With Ghosts

-"Hizashi opened his eyes to a world that belonged to ghosts. His headphones were gone and the gray, grimy world that he felt more than saw was muffled and still. This was bad, he hazily thought."

In which we follow Hizashi shortly after the events of 296. How he's found, how he finds out and how he has to tell.”

(I fished this one out of the garbage of my Google Docs because I’d written most of it and forgotten about it. I dragged it out, prettied it up a little and threw it up on AO3. It is by far my most well read BNHA fic, go figure.)

Leave Her Johnny

-”Captain Hizashi Yamada has combed the Seven Seas looking for the elusive smuggler Eraserhead. He has spent years searching for him, tracking his movements and trying to anticipate where he would be next. But he had never considered what would happen when he finally found him. “

(I wrote a paragraph of this and was immediately like ‘I MUST CREATE THIS’. I take some chances writing wise in this as the whole thing is done in a Victorian Era ish style of writing. But I think it’s effective and the ending is likely one of the best that I’ve ever managed. I’m proud of it.)

Gold Rush

-”"That earned him a laugh and Mashirao’s smile made something in his chest ache, something that made him want to hurt. Why had he ever left?

“I’m really not,” Mashirao was saying but Shinsou just shook his head and kissed him once, twice and wished he could take the sunny afternoon and make it stay forever. Make it stay forever like Mashirao somehow had, while the neighborhood had adjusted without Hitoshi’s permission.

“You are,” he said, “And I love it.”

I love you, he should have said. But as Mashirao’s eyes softened and the blonde pushed him back against the bed, Hitoshi knew he didn’t need to say it."

(You know how sometimes you listen to a Death Cab for Cutie song about gentrification over and over until a fic comes out? Because that’s basically what happened here.)

Black Sun

‘"But then he remembered the way that Shouji had eaten the night after, one hand curled into his hair as he hung back in the corner. Shouji hid when something was wrong, like a wounded cat trying to find a dark place to either live or die and he was being released tomorrow. Now was the time to push or he’d find Shouji right back on his bed, staring at nothing."

Something happened to Shouji on the beach. Tokoyami is sure of it.‘

(Aaaaaand Death Cab for Cutie strikes again. But heyo, my first published ShouToko and it is SOFTTTTT)

In the Far and Mighty West

Mic came closer and despite himself, Shouta could not find it in him to feel afraid. “You won’t understand, not really. I’ll try, though. I’m like Pecos Bill or Paul Bunyan or a jackalope or that fish that your friend caught that he swears he brought in but that you’ve never seen proof of. I’m the herd of dogies moving sweet and steady in the right direction, I’m no stragglers to worry about, I’m that perfect dog that’s there to keep them in line. I’m that group of good friends that you would kill for, I’m the woman who you’re dying to come home to, I’m that promised home of milk and honey. I’m Mic.”

Shouta stared at him dazedly and licked his lips, feeling drunk and stupid as he stared at the man. “You’re… magic?”

“I suppose you could call me that.”

(Cowboy!Erasermic. Inspired heavily by American Gods and my own love of folk heroes.)

In Your Violence

- “'Mezou frowned, eyes narrowing. “Are you trying to say that you’re scared that I’ll be killed by having faith in you?”

“It would be in your best interest to stay away from me,” Fumikage finally said, his voice falling flat and quiet. “I am destined to be a monster.”

'Mezou gets the call he fears, the one that says that Fumikage has lost control again. But this time it's different, in more ways than one.”

(I listened to Silence by Marshmello until I went insane in this is the result. Featuring some of my super depressing headcanons about Shouji! But it’s not awful.)

My hockey fics that I still like:

Hufflepuff Halfwit

- ““Zhenya, the wind is coming from the west, I will not remind you again. You shut that window before the house stinks of factories!” She snapped and Geno stared at the owl as though maybe it would know what to do. But instead, it had given a little hoot and wiggled inside, only to drop it’s letter on the counter.

He turned his head very slowly back to look at his mother, who had suddenly gone very quiet. “It… just showed up, Mama. And um. It brought a letter.” He waited again, looked back at the owl who had begun to nose at the pirozhkis in interest and then looked back at his mother with the best puppy dog eyes he had ever attempted. “Can I keep it?”

(This is a part of my hockey/Harry Potter au that still legitimately haunts my dreams. It’s basically a Sid/Geno in Hogwarts but I really love the world building I got to do with Koldovstoretz, the Russian school of wizardry. Don’t read ‘On the Word of a Slytherin’ though, I’m not as proud of that one.)

The Prince

- “What the fuck.” Matt breathed out, sitting back heavily onto his hotel bed as he stared at his phone.

‘This is Henrik.’ The text read. ‘I would like to meet you. I will book a room in Pittsburgh at your convenience. Let me know what time will work for you.’ -

(Listen, it’s Henrik Lundqvist/Matt Murray smut, I feel like that is novel and interesting and worth your attention. I wax poetic on goalies in this, as you do.)

The Zoo of Toronto

- “No one missed it when a massive porcupine had shuffled in between the reporters with a single minded focus, pushing media away until it was able to grip onto Phil’s suit pants and try to pull itself up. He hadn’t been able to do more then besides pick the animal up before it could shred his pants to shreds and walk out of the locker room before the decision had been made with the Toronto media.

Phil Kessel was guilty.”

(Not gonna lie, this is probably my favorite of the hockey fics I’ve written. And it’s Phil/Carl, which is never found anymore but it was a good pairing.)

#my writing

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scabopolis · 4 years ago

Note

Omg congrats on 600 followers! Honestly any fake dating with Jonah x Amy would be amazing, although I love number 44 and/or 48 on your Google Docs <333

This is my first Jonah x Amy fic and I offer two caveats: 1) I’m still not sure if there is a particular vibe people who read for this pairing preferring, so...here we are, and 2) I have only made it through 4x12 of Superstore but am pretty familiar w/ what happens the rest of the series.

Prompt: “You know we’re not actually dating, so why did you propose to me in front of my family?” / “I’m sorry, I panicked.” --- Title: the scene of the complication Fandom: Superstore Pairing: Jonah/Amy Other Characters: My crippling insecurity writing for a new fandom, sleep soft mornings, dumbs being dumb (but, like in a cute way) Additional Tags: friends to lovers (or idiots to friends to lovers??), fake dating shenanigans, alternative universe where Amy’s HS pregnancy test was negative and she and Jonah met in college Word Count: ~2,100 ---

It started with a chance meeting ten years ago, and somehow it’s brought Amy Sosa here: awake in her childhood room with Jonah Simms beside her, sleeping off upwards of half a dozen tequila shots. Maybe she shouldn’t be surprised. She knew that day they met in the lecture hall that Jonah was a person who would make her life exceedingly more complicated.

And ten years later, here they are, practically leaving complicated behind in the rear view mirror.

(“What are two hopes and one fear you have for your first lecture on your first day of college?” the guy sitting to her right asks.

Amy doesn’t answer at first but this stranger just waits for her, all blinking, bright eyes and freshman eagerness. It’s barely morning. Is this her life now?

“Hope one,” she says, holding up a finger, “that I’d sit next to someone quiet. Hope two,” she holds up another, “that no one would talk to me before I managed to find coffee.” She holds up a third finger. “And this moment right here is what I feared.”

For some reason, her shortness delights him. His smile is open and affectionate, and he nods in appreciation.

“Noted.”

And Amy fully intends to never speak to this wide-eyed panda boy ever again, but then their General Psychology professor informs the class that the person they’re sitting next to will be their assignment partner for the semester.

The next lecture her partner – his name is Jonah, she learns – brings her a cup of coffee and doesn’t speak a word until she takes a long sip.

Complicated.)

Jonah snuffles in his sleep, his eyelids fluttering slightly. His hair is doing that thing it does when he’s hot or drunk or has run a hand through it too many times, where a single lock of hair hangs in the middle of his forehead. Amy resists the very real urge to brush it away. Because, yeah, she has those kinds of thoughts a lot and they also make things complicated. They’re friends. Maybe even best-friends, but definitely not ‘tenderly brush a lock of your hair away’ friends.

Do those kinds of friends even exist?

Jonah stirs again, and now that it’s clear he’s actually waking up, Amy reaches for her phone and opens Candy Crush. The last thing she needs is to get caught staring at him like some weird stalker.

“Oh, god,” he groans, his voice scratchy. He stretches out with another groan, his foot bumping against Amy’s as he does. Rather than move away, he kind of just rests it there on top of hers. And this is something she is all too familiar with. Drunk and/or hungover Jonah is yet another complication. More accurately, his propensity to cuddle indiscriminately is a very real complication.

“I need—” Amy reaches for the glass of water on her night stand and hands it to Jonah, stopping him mid-thought. “Do you have—?” She hands him two ibuprofen. “Thank you,” he says.

“You’re welcome.” She looks back at her phone.

Jonah swallows the two pills and drinks the entire glass of water, and then lays back down, curling slightly into Amy’s side.

“I made so many mistakes last night,” he says.

“I’m aware. As are your 80 Instagram followers.”

“I liveblogged it?”

“And tagged everything with the hashtag ‘best noche ever.’” He groans again and turns his face into Amy’s side. She sets her phone back on the nightstand. “What got into you?”

“Your dad is intimidating.”

“My dad?”

“Yes. Your dad. And then he and your brother kept pouring me shots—”

“I knew this had Eric’s fingerprints all over it.”

“Well, it was kind of my fault, too.”

She frowns. “What do you mean?” Jonah doesn’t answer and Amy kicks him under the covers. He looks up at her. His eyes are red-rimmed but also so sleepy and soft. Complicated. “Jonah.”

“They kept asking me questions. About you and me. And I was so worried I’d say something wrong, I kept taking shots to avoid answering.”

“You could have found me.”

“I know, but—” he trails off.

“But what?”

“I want them to like me.”

“Oh, Jonah.” She gives in and brushes the lock of hair off his forehead, and he looks up at her. “They’ve known you for 10 years. They’re never going to like you.”

“Thanks, I feel so much better.”

“I do have one more question.”

“Okay.”

“You know we’re not actually dating. Right?”

He closes his eyes and nods. “No. Yeah. I know.”

“So why did you propose to me in front of my family?”

“I panicked.”

“Panicked?”

“Your dad asked what my intentions were, and there were just so many shots.

“And that’s why you shouted ‘I intend to marry her!’?”

Jonah flips the comforter over his head. “I just got wrapped up in it all.” His words are muffled from under the comforter.

She’s glad for the moment of respite, with Jonah unable to see her. If Amy didn’t want things to careen so off track, she probably shouldn’t have agreed to let him come to her dad’s retirement party as her fake boyfriend.

(“I don’t see what the problem is,” Jonah says, spooning more cashew chicken onto his plate. “You don’t still have feelings for Adam, do you?”

“No. No. God no,” she says. “Absolutely not.”

“Alright. I’m clear on the no.”

“It’s just the last time I saw him— Well, you know.”

“I recall, yes.”

And he does. Jonah knows all about Amy’s high school boyfriend. The one she liked but never quite loved. The one she broke up with when the pregnancy test came back negative. The one she slept with again the summer after their senior year of college.

(An event that occurred in no small part because Jonah was dating Mindy and the two of them were talking about moving in together. Maybe moving to the west coast together and Amy realized there was a very real possibility she was going to be left behind.

Jonah doesn’t know that part of the story.)

Adam is also the guy who thought having sex in her childhood bedroom meant Amy wanted to get back together. He’s the guy bringing his very beautiful fiancée to her dad’s retirement party. Because he’s also somehow the guy who still helps her dad with home improvement projects. And Amy is just Amy – the one who doesn’t visit St. Louis enough, and is using her very expensive liberal arts degree to work as a survey researcher for Cloud9, meaning she’s basically paid to manipulate shoppers.

And, not that it should matter, but she’s also very single. Has been for a while now.

She mostly blames the man stealing chow mein from her plate for that. She blocks Jonah’s chopsticks with hers, and a piece of cabbage goes flying.

“Stop that,” she says.

“You’re not eating it.”

“I’m too annoyed to eat.”

“If you only ate when you weren’t annoyed you’d starve.”

“I hate you.”

She pushes the chow mein around her plate. God, when she thinks about it, this really is Jonah’s fault. If she could just find a way to get over this stupid, dumb, little crush that has creeped up – without her permission, mind you! – then maybe she could actually—

“I could do it,” Jonah says, interrupting her thought spiral.

“Do what?”

“Go with you to your dad’s retirement party. Be your fake boyfriend.”

“You think that’s a good idea?”

“I think it’s a great idea. Besides, I am very close to getting your dad to like me.”

“He’ll never like you.”

“It’s not that I didn’t like the painting—”

“—How would this even work?” she asks, cutting him off.

“I don’t know,” he says. “I think we act like we normally do, but maybe you can hold my hand and be nice to me.”

“Eww.”

Jonah smiles around a large bite of cashew chicken. She really needs to stop hanging out with him so much – he’s become immune to her insults. It’s rude.

And him as her fake boyfriend is a terrible idea. Truly awful. If Amy is looking to get over her crush and make things between her and Jonah less complicated, there are better ways to do it.

Except.

Except she kind of wants to.

“Okay. Let’s do it,” she says.

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” she says decisively. “But if you try and kiss me, I’ll cut your lips off.”

“That seems like a proportionate response.”)

“So, to be clear, I told you kissing wasn’t allowed, and you thought that left proposals on the table?”

He groans again from under the comforter. It’s a little sad and a lot pathetic. Poor guy.

She pats the comforter in the area of what she hopes is his shoulder. As annoyed as she is at having to untangle these threads, it’s not his fault. Not really. She knows her family is relentless. Amy slides down and flips the comforter over her head as well.

Jonah rolls over onto his side to face her. Amy does the same.

“It was better than Adam’s proposal.”

“Adam proposed?”

Amy nods. “Ish. If I remember correctly he said, ‘I’ll marry you if I have to.’”

“Yikes.”

“Right?” It’s cozy under this blanket. Intimate even. “You did say some nice things. Even if they came out kind of slurred.”

“Amy—”

“Sexy, huh?”

“I really didn’t mean to shout that to all of your dad’s—”

“Because it’s not true?”

“No!” Jonah winces and Amy isn’t sure if it’s ‘I have a hangover’ induced or ‘I am revealing too much’ induced. “It’s true. Of course it’s true. You are very, you know.”

“Sexy on a completely objective level? Or, are you saying that you, yourself, Jonah Simms, think I’m sexy?” Jonah goes completely still. Amy isn’t even sure he’s breathing. It’s entirely uncharacteristic and a little unnerving. She pokes his cheek. “Are you blushing?”

“Big time, yeah.”

That does enough to break the tension under their blanket enclave, both of them laughing, at first awkwardly and then more genuine. Once they stop to catch their breath, Amy notices they’ve shifted closer together.

This would be the perfect moment to flee from the scene of the complication. But the complications don’t seem so terrible at this specific moment. She blames that lock of hair of his.

“How long have you held this opinion?” Jonah frowns at Amy’s question. “Regarding my sexiness?” she clarifies.

“Amy—”

“What?”

“What are you doing?”

“I just want to—”

“Really? You really want to have this conversation?”

Jonah stresses the ‘you’ and Amy knows why he does. There isn’t a topic or feeling that is off-limits to Jonah – he’d happily discuss every feeling he’s ever had. It’s her. It’s always her.

Their faces are so close they’re practically sharing the same pillow. It takes no effort at all for Amy to close the distance between them, lightly brushing her lips against his. As quick as it began it’s over, and even in the dim light under the comforter, Amy can see Jonah’s eyes blown wide. She’s sure she looks just as shocked and she’s the one who did it.

“You said if I kissed you you’d cut off my lips.”

“Which is why I kissed you.”

“Oh,” he nods. “Makes sense.” Jonah taps out a slow but erratic rhythm against the side of his leg. She just knows he’s trying to stop himself from verbalizing every single thought in his head. “To be clear, was that a friendship kiss, or—”

So Amy kisses him again. This time Jonah recovers quickly from his shock, winding a hand into her hair, his palm cupping the back of her head. It’s just unbelievably good.

“Okay,” Jonah says, his voice unsteady as he pulls away. “That answers that.” He traces her jaw with his thumb. “Any chance we could do it some more?”

Amy rolls onto her back, putting some distance between them. “I don’t think so.”

“Wait. What?”

“Your breath is awful.”

Jonah breathes into his hand and sniffs it to confirm. “What if I brush my teeth?”

Amy sighs, long and exasperated. “I suppose that would be—”

Jonah is out of the bed in seconds, scrambling for his overnight bag, and Amy presses her lips together to hide her smile. From the way Jonah smiles, soft and delighted as he backs out of the room, she isn’t fooling anyone.

So far past the point of complicated, she thinks, her heart still racing. But then again, maybe complications that make her feel like this are okay.

#simmosa fanfic #superstore fanfic #jonah x amy #jonah simms #amy sosa #amy dubanowski #I hope you like it anon!#first fic for a new fandom is always the most nerve wracking!#why is that?#p: jonah x amy #c: jonah simms #c: amy sosa #tv: superstore #otp: fresh start #Anonymous #never stories

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raysofcrosby · 4 years ago

Text

CHANCES – M. TKACHUK

requested: yes | no

warning(s): none that i can think of.

word count: 5,066

listened to: chances by the backstreet boys

inspiration: mixed luggage au [ i can’t find the og au-prompt masterlist, but if this is your au idea, lemme know and i’ll link you for credit (: ]

authors note: listen– i don’t know what it is, but i’ve literally been on a tkachuk thing lately. like, i used to despise this little curly-headed gremlin, but now??? it’s all hearteyes motherfucker. this is purely a writing to help me get back into the writing groove again after these last six months of nothing– so i might be a lil rusty. anyway, i hope you enjoy <3333

I’m sorry Y/N, but if you’re not here in the next 5 minutes I need to keep going.

That text haunted you– it was all you could think about the moment you got off of your flight. The uber your sister had ordered for you was close to canceling– all because there were too many planes taxiing on the airstrip and your stupid flight ended up circling in the air for thirty minutes. If this were any other airport, no doubt you’d be screwed. Luckily though, you knew good ole St. Louis Lambert International like the back of your hand. So getting from point A to point luggage claim would be no problem at all. The only delay would be the luggage getting put out onto the carousel.

Which of course, did prove to be the problem at hand.

You were the first one from your flight at the carousel and hoped to be gone before any disgruntled passengers you managed to bump into, could show up. Unfortunately for you, just as the bags were being loaded onto the carousel, your fellow passengers were arriving too– more than a few giving you a look that would normally result in you rolling your eyes in response. Yet, your focus wasn’t on them, it was glued to the small carousel door, keeping an eye out for your suitcase.

Teal bag with a grey handle. Teal bag with a grey handle. Teal bag with a grey handle. Teal bag with a grey hand–

“Ah-ha!” You smiled, catching eye of your suitcase and rushing to meet it instead of letting it eventually make its way to you. You grabbed the suitcase and extended the handle to drag it away, already walking towards the exit.

One minute.

You had one minute to catch your uber before they left you and you hoped and prayed that luck was on your side and the black Toyota Corolla just happened to be parked near the door you chose to exit from. The warm summer air of the Missouri summer weather practically smacked you in the face and it fit wasn’t for the awning covering the pick-up zone, you would have no doubt been blinded by the sun too.

“Oh, thank God,” you sighed, catching sight of a black Toyota Corolla that your sister said to find, parked just six cars down to your left. You sped walked to the uber, coming to a stop at the window and waving at the driver, catching her attention. “I’m so, so sorry I’m late.”

The woman, probably in her early 60’s gave you a friendly smile instead of the scowl you were expecting. “Are you Y/N?”

“Yes ma’am,” you replied, nodding.

“Go ahead and put your suitcase in the trunk, it’s opened for you.”

You walked to the trunk and lifted it open, placing your suitcase inside before closing it and walking to the back passenger door, getting into the backseat. “Again, I’m so sorry for making you wait. We had to circle in the air for 30 minutes because of the traffic on the airstrip and,” you exhaled, relaxing back into your seat. “I’m so sorry.”

She laughed, pulling away from the airport. “It’s no problem sweetheart. I saw your reply. I was going to give you a little extra time. I know how hectic airports could be. Especially this time of the year. Everyone’s traveling for vacation.”

“Yeah, I think I might have accidentally elbowed one too many people trying to get to luggage claim.”

“Are you visiting or coming home?”

“Coming home…kind of,” you laughed, staring out the window at your hometown. “I actually just graduated from college a few weeks ago, so my roommates and I rented a house on the Jersey Shore to celebrate. But, my sister is getting married tomorrow, so that’s why I’m back.” You looked back towards her, laughing softly to yourself. “But then come September, I’ll actually be moving to Calgary for a new job and to get my Masters.”

“So a lot of traveling, I see.”

You took a deep breath and sighed, nodding. “Yeah, but I’m glad to be able to spend all of this time with my friends and family before I start working. Especially since I’ll be moving so far away.”

“It sounds like a great time,” she smiled, looking at me through the rearview mirror. “I’m a sucker for weddings, why don’t you tell me about it?”

Normally, you weren’t one to talk a lot whenever you and your friends would take Ubers downtown on the weekends– but this driver was sweet and you found yourself talking nonstop as she drove you towards your final destination. After all, she didn’t abandon you at the airport like you thought she would.

The car ride to your parents' place went by a lot faster than you thought it would and it was all thanks to Mrs. Sheila, your lovely uber driver. Whom, you learned, started driving after she lost her husband late last year. Her kids lived out of state and once they went back home after those first few weeks, she wanted to find something to do to keep herself busy and get herself out of the house– so, she became an uber driver.

Walking into your parents' house, you were greeted with empty echos of your footsteps. Your parents were still at work and wouldn’t be home until just a little before the rehearsal dinner tonight. Your brother, well, as far as you knew, he had absolutely nothing going on, so you didn’t know why he wasn’t around. If anyone was guaranteed to be home, it was your sister. She was the one who ordered your uber and had them take you here, so she was more than well aware of what time you’d be arriving home.

“Hello?” You called out, leaving your suitcase by the door and making your way to the living room. “Char, are you here?”

“Is that my favorite sister?” You heard her voice call out from upstairs. Looking up, you could see her rounding the hallway corner, carrying a closed laundry basket full of, no doubt, stuff for tonight’s bridal party sleepover.

“I’m your only sister,” you laughed as she made her way down the staircase.

“Unless you count all of the times we got bored and turned Nick into Nikki,” she giggled, reaching the end of the staircase and putting the basket down before stepping forward and hugging you. “How was the flight?”

“It was great up until our 30 minutes of circling in the air,” you laughed, pulling away from the hug. “Where’s my dear brother?”

“Working out with some friends. We probably won’t see him until tonight.”

“Nothing says welcome home like being greeted to an empty house.”

“Excuse you, I was here to greet you.” She laughed, picking the basket back up. “But if you really want to be upset, you should see all of the packed boxes in your room.”

“I leave in three months! Why are they packing me up now?” You gasped, acting dramatically.

“Nick and dad are planning on transforming it into some kind of training room or something.”

“But they–“

“Already took over the garage? Yeah, I know and mom is pissed.”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing the handle of your suitcase again. “He literally told the Blues that he was going back to Michigan in the fall to try and win a championship. Why the hell are they even treating him like he’s already a hall of famer?”

“Perks of being the youngest, not to mention dad’s only son,” she laughed, looking at the door. “Ready to head to the Airbnb?”

“Can we get food first?” You asked, dragging your suitcase along. “I’m starving.”

She laughed as you held the door open for her. “Good, because we’re most definitely getting food before we go and take a nap.”

You laughed, walking out of the house with her and then closing and locking the door behind you. “I knew we were related.”

Lunch and a nap turned out to be exactly what you needed. The two of you had stopped at a subway to get some food before driving over to the Airbnb that you, your sister and the rest of the bridesmaids would be staying for the night.

It was a beautiful three-bedroom, modernized cottage that looked like it was stripped directly from the pages of a fairytale book. It was tucked away, just off to the side in the backyard of a beautiful colonial house, whose farm would tomorrow be transformed into a whimsical fairytale wedding location. The men would be getting ready in the house, while the women would be getting ready in the cute cottage. Sort of like a secret getaway paradise before the wedding.

When you got back with your food, your sister took you on a tour of the property while the wedding planners and staff were setting up all of the bigger decorations for tomorrow. You were off at school during the entire planning process, only ever seeing every one of her ideas in pictures. The only things you were able to take part in, were the dress shopping and her bachelorette party since they were both held at a time you were on a fall break from school. Besides being there for those two things, the only other thing you helped with– was the proposal.

Colton has been in your life for as long as you could remember. He and Charlotte have been best friends since Pre-K. It was the cliché friends to lovers kind of story that was told time after time– but in theirs, there were no other people in it. It was just them. There were no other boyfriends or girlfriends, no other crushes– from the very beginning, they were it for each other. They were each other's first everything– kiss, date, girlfriend/boyfriend, time– in their love story, they had found their one great love…all before they turned five.

Wherever Charlotte was, there was Colton– they were stuck like glue and your parents loved it. It was their friendship that brought both of your families together to the relationship that you all had now. Your families were best friends, all because of their relationship. You often took vacations together, spent holidays together, hell, you and Colton’s middle brother, Mason, even had joint birthday parties– as did your two younger siblings, Nick and Addie. Your families even try to go as far as to dropping hints that all three kids should date.

Colton and Charlotte. You and Mason. Nick and Addie– all the same age and practically family already.

It was perfect.

Until you and Mason tried to date in the tenth-grade and realized that kissing the person you’ve shared every birthday party with, used to take baths with and shared every key moment growing up– wasn’t all that great. In fact, it was weird. So the two of you remained as the almost black sheep of the families, especially since Nick and Addie were headed down the same path as Charlotte and Colton. They started dating in eighth-grade– like Colton and Charlotte– and have maintained a healthy and strong relationship to now, even long-distance, when they’ll both be sophomores in college in the fall, Addie at the University of Missouri and Nick playing hockey at the University of Michigan.

You and Mason were there, always making jokes about how it runs in the family but skipped a generation. Never letting your siblings live it down that the two of you will be the ones to break the cycle. Funny how you two were also the ones who played the biggest roles in Charlotte’s engagement.

Both of your dads are huge St. Louis Blues fans. So naturally, they tried to rub that off onto their children. And it worked, all except for you. You tolerated the blues, but never really adopted hockey as your favorite sport. You understood it, watched it whenever you never had a choice– but like your mom, you gravitated more towards football and adopted her hometown team as your own– the Pittsburgh Steelers.

Colton and Charlotte, however, were both diehard Blues fans from day one. There were even pictures to prove it. They even went to a game on both their first ‘supervised’ date and ‘unsupervised’ date. So, when the Blues were making a run for the Stanley Cup– it was imminent for your families to attend at least one game. You and Mason did everything in your power to get the Blues attention. You emailed anyone and everyone who worked in their front office, you spammed their social media accounts– anything and everything to get their attention so you could share their story and Colton’s plan.

And at game four it all came to life. Charlotte was ‘randomly’ selected to participate in an intermission event after the first period where she’d be blindfolded and needed to walk along the ice to find Louie after collecting ‘Blues momentos’ along the way. The Blues had played the short slideshow of Colton and Charlotte that you and Mason had sent them, as they introduced her to the crowd. Unbeknownst to her, both of our families were on the ice with her, standing behind her while she was blindfolded. You and the other three siblings were scattered in front of her, each holding a single rose.

The Blues staff member helped her walk along the ice and the moment that she took a flower from someone, they needed to go back to where she started, which was where Colton was standing with the ring in his pocket. The four of you each had a sign, that when held up together read ‘Will you marry me?’ Once Charlotte neared Louie, he cut the distance to just by center ice where all of you were waiting. And when she found Louie, the entire crowd had erupted into cheers as she took off her blindfold, all smiles until she turned around to see the signs and Colton on one knee.

She said yes. The Blues won. The proposal went viral and your families were given a box to game seven where the Blues won the Stanley Cup.

All in a day's work between the two middle siblings, and one that led you all to this moment– the wedding tomorrow. Where Colton, who was already like a big brother yo you, would officially, pretty much become your big brother.

“Y/N,” your sister said, shaking your arm. “Y/N, get up. We’ve got like 45 minutes to get ready for dinner before we have to leave and no offense, but you need to shower.”

“Your lucky that you’re getting married tomorrow or I’d kill you,” you mumbled into the pillow, taking a deep breath and exhaling before pushing yourself up. “Can you charge my phone for me? I won’t take too long, just need to rinse off and I’ll be back.”

“In your backpack?” She asked as you walked out of the room.

“Mhhm, small front pocket. The charger is with it.”

You walked out of the room and into the connected bathroom, closing the door behind you before walking towards the shower and turning on the water. Your nap was more than enough to help you make it through dinner. You hadn’t thought that you were even that tired, but the moment you laid down to relax after eating your sandwich– you were absolutely knocked out.

To be fair though, you had spent the last two weeks partying it up on the beach with your college roommates, trying to relive every moment from your last four years of partying, downing booze, and making out with any attractive guy who caught your eye. You know what they say, no rest for the wicked– and boy, oh boy, were the wicked actions of shotgunning beers with strangers in the hot summer jersey sun, coming back to haunt you.

At least you got one hell of a tan and more memories to last you a lifetime, out of it all.

You turned off the shower before you stepped out and wrapped a towel around your body, then wrapping your hair up in a second towel. You walked out of the bathroom and back to the bedroom, only to find it empty. "Hey, Char?"

"In the living room...er, kitchen, I guess!"

You walked out of the bedroom and into the living room to see Charlotte sitting at the kitchen counter, a make-up mirror propped up in front of her and hot curling iron in her hand. "Why are you doing your hair in the kitchen?"

"You were in the bathroom and the lighting is lacking in the bedroom." She let a curl, fall from the iron and turned to you. "What's up?"

"Well, for one, the bathroom is free," you laughed, looking around. "And two, I was wondering where you put my suitcase? It was in the room and now it's not."

"No," she dragged out her reply, focusing on wrapping another piece of hair around the iron before averting her eyes towards the door. "You left it by the front door. Never brought it in."

You turned towards the front door and sure enough, right there not even three feet away from the door...was your suitcase. "Awesome, thanks!" You said, walking over and tugging on the handle, extending it out before walking back to the room. "And my phone?"

"Charging in the kitchen. It was dead by the way."

"Great," you huffed, walking into the bedroom and over to the bed. You lifted up the suitcase, letting it plop down onto the bed and exhaled a deep breath. It was a lot heavier than you thought it was. But maybe your body was just tired from traveling and last night's final night out.

You caught a glimpse of the alarm clock that was set up on the bedside table and saw that your getting ready time was vastly starting to dwindle. So, not thinking anything more of the heavy suitcase, you unzipped the zipper and threw the cover back, ready to grab the romper you had placed directly on top, just so it wouldn't get wrinkled. You stared down at the contents of the suitcase, quickly grabbing the cover and shutting it again.

Okay, maybe you were imagining things.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, exhaling, and then opening your eyes and opening the suitcase again.

No, you definitely weren't imagining things.

The same spike ball netting was still staring you right in the face. Surrounding it, were three spike balls and a crumbled up bag that was supposed to house the set. Beneath it, a bunch of crumpled up clothes and other things.

"No," you shut the suitcase again, repeating the same steps: close your eyes, take a breath, hope you're dreaming, open your eyes and then the suitcase, only to be disappointed. "No, no– oh my God, this can't be happening. Charlotte!!"

You heard her footsteps echo off of the wooden floor as she made her way to the bedroom, half of her hair curled and set. "What?"

"This isn't my suitcase."

"Of course it is," she scoffed. "Colton and I got you that big traveling set for graduation, and that," she pointed at the suitcase, "is it."

"No, it's not," You opened the suitcase and reached in, grabbing the first thing you felt and holding it up to show her. "See? Not mine!"

"Y/N," her eyes widened before she started to laugh. "You might want to put those down."

"It's just the spike ball bag, it's not big–" you turned to see what you were holding and sure enough, it was not the spike ball bag you thought you had picked up. It was a pair of Ant-Man boxers, and it was unknown whether or not they were clean or not. "Ah, ew!" You tossed them back into the suitcase, wiping your hand on your towel. "Ew, ew, ew, I just touched a stranger's dirty underwear."

"You don't know if they were dirty."

"You don't know if they were clean!" You argued back, looking around the handle for an identification tag. "This definitely isn't mine. My travel tag isn't on the handle."

"Who uses a travel tag?" She laughed, shaking her head.

"Me," you turned towards the suitcase, slamming it shut and zipping it. "I use a travel tag, so if my luggage gets lost or switched, they can contact me. It's common travel knowledge."

She sighed, walking over towards the suitcase and unzipping the two pockets on top, looking in and shaking her head. "Nothing hidden in those pockets. Did you think to go through the rest of the suitcase? Maybe they have a tag in there."

"And risk touching another pair of possibly dirty boxers and God knows what else? No thanks," you zipped up the suitcase and picked it up, placing it back onto the ground. "I'm doomed. That suitcase had all of the clothes that I took to Jersey, in it. It had my outfit and makeup for tonight."

"I have something you can borrow," she walked over to the closet, opening it to reveal it was empty besides two dresses hanging up. "And I've got make-up and whatever your little heart desires for your hair."

"Your wedding present was in there too," you sighed, walking over to the closet. "Which one?"

"This." She held out the rose-colored dress, handing the hanger to you. "You can get away with no bra and I can give you a pair of underwear from the new pack I bought this morning–"

"Why would you buy new underwear?" You asked, taking the dress.

"In case of emergencies," she closed the closet and turned back to you, nodding. "Which, this is. Unopened pack in that laundry basket I was carrying, feel free to take a pair and keep them. As for shoes...you're kind of on your own on that one."

You sighed, defeated as she walked out of the bedroom, leaving you to get dressed. You unwrapped the towel around your hair, letting it drop onto the floor as the towel wrapped around your body went with it. You took the dress off of the hanger and untied the straps, lifting the dress over your head and tugging it down. Your mind was going over every detail of just how you picked up the wrong suitcase. Fair, it was a dead-ringer for the suitcase you took with you to Jersey, but even you should have known to realize that there was no bright red luggage tag hanging on the side handle. And it was all you could do but hope that whoever picked up your suitcase thinking it was theirs, would at least call or text.

"Oh shit," you said, holding onto the straps that hung down on the side, trying to tie them in the back. "Charlotte! My phone!"

You ran out into the living room to see her now finishing up her make-up at the counter, turning to you with wide eyes. "Okay one, sit down and let me brush your hair," she stood up and grabbed your wrist, bringing you over to counter and sitting you down. "And two, your phone is right there."

"If they figured out our luggage was switched, they'd call! My luggage tag!" You reached across the counter, grabbing your phone and turning it over to see that the screen was still black. "Oh come on, my phone wasn't that dead!"

Charlotte tugged you back and started to brush your hair, not bothering to go slow. "I plugged it in the moment you went to take a shower, just give it a few seconds."

If looks could kill, your phone would be nowhere ready to turn on. You were glaring at the screen as if pure intimidation would turn it on. This could go one of two ways:

1) This person left your suitcase in the dark abyss that is lost luggage at the airport.

2) Like you, they didn't realize that they had grabbed the wrong luggage until they went to open it and they'll find your luggage tag and call you.

"Ah!" You yelled, jumping out of the chair as your phone lit up. You leaned over the counter, your heart racing as Charlotte tried to keep brushing your hair. "Come on, come on, come on..."

"Right there," Charlotte said, pointing at your screen as a text message notification popped up on the screen from an unknown number. "That has to be them!"

"Oh thank God," you sighed, thumb ready to swipe the message open. "Oh...yikes."

"Uh," Charlotte laughed as the two of you continued to watch your messages pour in, at least 5 coming in from the unknown number, along with three phone calls. "Yikes indeed, I guess they're panicking just as much as you are."

You swiped on the notifications, unlocking your phone, and going to the message.

unknown: hi y/n i think you grabbed the wrong suitcase...

unknown: yeah, uh, you most definitely grabbed the wrong suitcase.

unknown: is there any way we can switch in the next 30 minutes before i reach my house?

unknown: ok, so i'm sorry for the spam texts and calls...but this is kind of urgent.

unknown: like life or death.

"Life or death?" Charlotte asked, looking at you with a raised eyebrow. "What the hell was in that suitcase?"

"Spike ball and dirty clothes," you replied, shrugging. Your eyes went wide before you turned back to her. "What if they're a drug smuggler and there are drugs in there?"

She opened her mouth to speak before looking down at your phone, nodding. "Now's your chance to find out. Look who's calling."

You looked back down at your phone to see the unknown number flash on your screen. You looked back at her, shaking your head. "You answer it."

"Your luggage, you answer it," she laughed, pulling back segments of your hair to tie back. "But put it on speaker, I'm curious what the drug dealer sounds like."

You shoved your elbow back, avoiding her as you nervously slid your thumb across the screen, answering the call and pressing the speaker button. "Hello?"

"Oh thank God," the unknown called sighed, clearing his throat. "Sorry for the spam calls, I've just been panicking."

"Yeah, I’m sorry...my phone died," you replied, looking at Charlotte as your voice dwindled off.

"The suitcase," she mouthed, nodding her head back towards the room.

"Oh, the suitcase!" You said, almost a little too excited. You cleared your throat, calming yourself down. "I most definitely have your suitcase...maybe."

"Well I have yours," you could hear rustling in the background. "Y/N L/N, right?"

"Yep, that's me," you looked at Charlotte again, shaking your head. "Sorry to kind of do this...but how do I know I have your suitcase? I mean, what if I grabbed someone else's and you grabbed mine and there's three of us in this and–"

Charlotte smacked your back lightly with the back of the brushed, shaking her head as the voice on the other side of the phone laughed. "Um, shit," he coughed, smacking his lips. "Uh well, there should be a spike ball set in there. If not, then I left it at Johnny's. Otherwise, it's just clothes."

"Congratulations," you laughed, leaning back into the chair. "I've got your suitcase."

"Oh thank God, I was really worried there for a second," they replied. "Is there any chance we can exchange them soon?"

"Okay, so about that," you sighed, biting the inside of your cheek. "I kind of have a wedding rehearsal and dinner to go to in 20 minutes...and I don't think that will be over with till about...two hours from now. Is that okay?"

There was silence on the other side and you couldn't help but feel horrible at the fact that you were keeping this stranger away from his luggage and that he had to keep yours until then. "My family and I are going to dinner in two hours, reservation and all."

"Where at?" You spoke before your brain could even catch up with what your mouth was doing. "I'm sorry that was creepy."

He laughed and you felt a little flutter feeling in your stomach. "No, it's fine. I think we're going to Maggiano's in–"

"In the Westfield town center?" Your eyes widened as Charlotte placed the brush down on the counter behind you, looking at you with a smile. "We're going to Pieology in the Westfield town center!"

"Pieology for a wedding rehearsal dinner? Sounds like my kind of party," he laughed. "So, do you just want to exchange then? When I get there and you're leaving?"

"Sounds perfect!"

"Great! So I'll just, text you when I get there and I promise I won't forget the suitcase."

"Okay, I'll see you then."

"All right, bye, Y/N!"

"Bye!" You hung up the call and Charlotte leaned against the counter a smile on her face. "What?"

"He sounded cute." She stuck placed the extra bobby pins she didn't need, onto the counter. "Maybe he can be your date for my wedding."

"Not this again," you groaned, getting out of the chair. "For the last time, I don't need a date. Besides, this guy is a total stranger– I don't even know his name!"

"You can learn it later," she laughed, wiggling her eyebrows. "Either way, do your makeup quickly because we need to leave in ten."

She walked off towards the bedroom the two of you had claimed and you sighed, sitting back down into your seat, grabbing her mascara, blush, and golden liquid shimmer eyeshadow. It was the best you could do for now, until you got all of your stuff back from this stranger. As you applied the eyeshadow, you couldn't get Charlotte's comment out of your head. She was right, he did sound cute. But who's to say that he's not a total creep? Or that he's even your age? He could be in his 40's or even barely cruising 18. And then stood the real issue, you didn't even know his name.

Your phone screen lit up once again and you looked away from the mirror, seeing that you had another text from the unknown number. You furrowed your eyebrows and unlocked your phone, opening his text.

unknown: my name is matt, by the way 😊

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk oneshot #nhl imagine #nhl one shot #hockey imagine #hockey oneshot #hockey writing #nhl writing #calgary flames oneshot #calgary flames imagine #calgary flames writing #matthew tkachuk writing #calgary flames #my writing

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bqstqnbruin · 4 years ago

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See you soon

So the Cale blurb turned out differently than I anticipated once I started writing but like, whatever, I think you’ll like this better. It’s also like a three page google doc, so I’m not sure if this counts as a blurb or not, but oh well.

Warning that there’s mentions of quaratine (indirectly) since this takes place the night of the NHL awards.

Flashbacks are in italics.

I hope you like it!

_________________

“And the winner of the 2019-2020 Calder Memorial Trophy is,” the announcer says, you glued to the TV as you prayed you would hear his name, “Cale Makar!”

You start screaming to your parents that Cale won, jumping up and down as your boyfriend’s face appeared on your TV screen for him to talk about how happy and honored he was that he won the award for the league’s best rookie. As soon as the awards were done, you had planned to Facetime with each other, and now there was even more reason to celebrate.

You wish you were there with him; he was home in Calgary and you were back in Springfield, Massachusetts, home from school because of the pandemic, 9 hours away from him by plane, on the other side of the continent. “Tell him congrats for us, sweetie,” your mom tells you, kissing your cheek before you head off to your room to call Cale.

As soon as his face appears on your computer screen, rosey cheeks and all, your heart skipped a beat. You had been videochatting as much as you could, but with him playing in the bubble in Edmonton, the calls were much less frequent than either of you had wanted them to be.

“Hey, baby,” he says, in a soft, kind voice.

“Hey veggie boy,” you call him the nickname you had been calling him since you met.

Everytime you see him, you can’t help but think about that night you met.

You were at a party in the Southwest area of UMass during your freshman year, not really wanting to be there, but dragged out by your roommate and the other guys and girls on your floor in one of the Orchard Hill dorms. Not a big party person, you were off to the side, nursing the drink your roommate forced in your hands upon arrival, watching the scene of drunk college students unfold around you.

“Not much of a party person, either?” you hear someone ask you, taking your attention away from the two girls owning two guys in a game of beer pong. You look to see Cale Makar, the freshman on the hockey team everyone was excited for. Hockey East was arguably one of the biggest and best college hockey conferences, at least in your opinion, and hearing someone like Cale had committed to your school was exciting. You thought you would see him play on the ice; UMass had thirty thousand undergraduate students, what were the chances of meeting him?

“Nah, not really. It’s more fun to watch.” You introduce yourselves, trying to play it cool on the boy you were already forming a crush on. You spent the night thinking up the backstories of the people around you. Whoever came up with the most absurd one would buy breakfast off campus the next morning.

“Y/N?” you hear Cale ask, bringing you out of your memory and back to reality. “Are you alright? You look upset.”

Looking at your own face on the screen, you hadn’t realized the smile that was on your face when he first picked up was gone, tears starting to form in your eyes. “Yeah, I’m just thinking.”

“About what?”

“The night we met. How far you’ve come,” you tell him, “How far away you are.”

His smile fades away as well, sadness covering his face, practically forcing the tears down your cheeks. You hated that you were making him sad, especially since he just won an award. “I miss you so much,” he whispers, sounding like he was choking back a sob as well.

“I miss you, too,” you manage to let out. “But, hey, babe, you won the fucking Calder! I’m so proud of you. You deserved it.”

A small smile returns to his face. “Thanks, baby. Did you hear me thanking you?”

You chuckle, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “I was too busy screaming to pay attention,” you admit. “The Avs have already posted a video, so I’ll watch it when we’re off.”

You two spend hours catching up on life since the last time you talked to each other a week ago. You had just started your senior year at school, counting down the days before you could graduate and move to Denver to be with Cale, like you had been talking about the last three years.

The night Cale came back from the Frozen Four game in Buffalo was heartbreaking. It was one of the first nights he didn’t want to talk about hockey, coming to your room and getting into your bed without saying a word to you or any of your suitemates. You had seen him after a tough loss before, but he was never like this. It was never them getting shut out in the national championship.

“Colorado wants me to start playing with them in the rest of their playoff run,” he finally says, running his hands through your hair as you try to concentrate on the readings you had to do for your class the next morning.

You were used to him travelling for games, but that was with him living in Massachusetts, not in Colorado. “Oh,” you let out, not sure what else to say. “When are you going to join them?”

“I sign the contract tomorrow, and they have a game the next day.”

You sit up, pulling yourself off his chest to look at him, “Tomorrow?”

He doesn’t look at you, fidgeting with your sheets instead. “Yeah. I want to go, but,” he stops looking up at you and taking your face in his hands. He runs the pads of his thumbs on your cheeks, you reaching up to touch his hands, “I don’t want to leave you.”

“Cale, you have to. If they want you, this is your dream. I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, but will I be?” he asks, a small laugh escaping his lips. “I love you,” he says, pulling you in for a kiss. It was soft, sweet, you could tell he felt bad about leaving you. It was the possibility of being your last kiss for who knows only how long that made him kiss you with urgency.

When he finally pulls away, he keeps his forehead pressed against yours. “I’ll still see you when you play in Boston; it’s only two hours away. And, we can call, we can text, or snapchat, or Facetime; we have each other in our pockets at all times,” you try to reassure him, wiping the tears from his cheeks.

“When you graduate, will you move to Denver, or wherever I’m playing?”

“You think we’ll still be together by then? That’s two more years.”

“I hope so. I don’t plan on stopping loving you.”

“Hey, Cale,” you ask him after sitting there just working, him watching you in the background like he used to when you were still at school together, “Will I like Denver? When I move out there?”

A smile forms on his face at the idea of you two finally being together again. “Yeah. You’ll love it. I do, at least. But it’ll be even better when you’re there. I can’t believe I haven’t been able to see you since May,” he says, looking off to the side as if to not let you see him cry.

“I know,” you swallow another bout of tears coming on, “But, hey, I’ll be moving out there in June. That’ll go by so fast,” you tell him, excited at the prospect of seeing him in person again.

“You promise?”

“I mean, I can’t control how you perceive time,” you joke, smiling at the sight of him throwing his head back in laughter. “But I have to watch some video lectures for class, so I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you soon?”

“Tomorrow?” he asks, excited by your nodding in agreement. “I love you. I’ll see you soon.”

#cale makar #cale makar imagine #colorado avalanche #colorado avalanche imagine #avalanche #avalanche imagine #nhl #nhl imagine #hockey #hockey imagine

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shieldwinter · 4 years ago

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Stucky Fic Rec [Part Three]

Part Three of the fic rec coming at you! Sorry for it coming so late in the day - I was finishing up reading a fic that I wanted to add to this part! I do only add fics that I’ve read, and enjoyed, to this rec so (once again) there will be few, if any, ABO and Shrinkyclink fics! As always; I will provide the Google Doc link where I update the rec regularly, but if you’d prefer it formatted here on tumblr, it is under the cut! If you want to recommend fics, go for it!

Google Doc Link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/10wqr5s-CzkFzLidQgt-y4-cjudHWwVeVPWCedMjK7t0/edit

Don’t Leave Me Asunder

Word Count: 31.1k Rating: Teen and Up Notable Tags: Shrunkyclunks, Veteran!Bucky, Amputee!Bucky Warnings: None Synopsis: Like many other war veterans, Bucky Barnes is alone. He doesn't talk to his family, he has no friends and his only human interactions are with his cleaning crew from Avengers Tower. Plagued by nightmares and pain, he lives each day in isolation. Until the Avengers bring their fight at home and Bucky gets to meet the famous Captain America. To his surprise, both their lives change forever after that.

Far Strayed

Word Count: 18.3k Rating: Mature Notable Tags: Post CACW, Pre Infinity War Warnings: None Synopsis: “They’re not going to stop coming after me,” Bucky tells Steve, somewhere in the air above Siberia. “Let them come,” Steve replies, furious still. After Siberia, instead of seeking refuge in Wakanda, Bucky and Steve go on the run.

All My Chances Again

Word Count: 20.6k Rating: Explicit Notable Tags: Time Travel, Endgame Fix-It Warnings: Smut Synopsis: I love him, Steve thinks into the spiraling ether; I love him; let me tell him. Give me the chance to set that one thing right. If I can’t rest for saving him, let me give him all of me and hope that it’s enough. Or; Steve gets lost in the time matrix, and begs for an out. Seems confession is good for the soul—or so he hopes.

I, Barnes

Word Count: 76.7k Rating: Explicit Notable Tags: Bi!Steve, Bi!Bucky, Period-Typical Homophobia Warnings: Heavy Smut, Talk of Suicide, Non-Consenual Vouyerism, Panic Attacks Synopsis: When Steve finally finds Bucky and brings him home to New York, their reunion doesn't go as planned. Bucky disappears into the bowels of the tower, avoiding Steve at all costs. Bucky believes himself to be broken beyond repair, unworthy of any contact with Steve Rogers. But having finally gotten a taste of being around Steve again, Bucky can't just leave - he needs Steve. In ways he believes prove he's a monster unfit to live.

If Steve Rogers Were Your Boyfriend

Word Count: 70.2k Rating: Mature Notable Tags: Cafe!AU, Barista!Steve, Author!Bucky Warnings: Abusive Relationship (not Steve and Bucky) Synopsis: When he's not editing a magazine he truly loathes or navigating a rocky relationship he truly doesn't deserve, Bucky Barnes writes a fantasy romance column with an unexpectedly loyal internet following about the barista at his favorite cafe. Barista Boyfriend makes these other worlds bearable, but the real world dreamboat isn’t remotely involved; Steve Rogers is just a muse. Everyone loves the column. And it definitely isn’t killing Bucky very gently in 500 word increments, not in the slightest. What kind of a writer can't keep fact and fiction straight? James Fuckin' Barnes, that's who.

Love Me Tender

Word Count: 13.1k Rating: Teen and Up Notable Tags: Canon Divergence Warnings: None Synopsis: Steve is captured by Hydra, who for lack of any other containment options, activate the Winter Soldier and order the man to "take care of Captain America". They really should have been more specific. - OR: Taking care of Captain America is a task that the Soldier's body seems to remember how to do, even if he doesn't understand why.

Falling Back on Forever

Word Count: 24k Rating: Explicit Notable Tags: Revenge Road Trip, Identity Porn Warnings: Smut Synopsis: Bucky falls from the train in 1945. Steve jumps right after him. The Winter Soldier and the Midnight Patriot are the world's most feared duo, serving HYDRA and leaving a trail of bodies a mile wide behind them. But then they remember.

Wishes and Words

Word Count: 48.2k Rating: Explicit Notable Tags: Fantasy!AU, Prince!Steve Warnings: Smut, Past Torture Synopsis: Life is going great until the day Bucky Barnes finds Crown Prince Steven Grant bleeding out on his lands. Then it only gets better.

How Bucky Barnes Won His Second Pulitzer

Word Count: 11.6k Rating: General Audience Notable Tags: Shrunkyclunks, Protective Steve Warnings: None Synopsis: It isn’t like him and Steve go out frequently. Sometimes he’ll stop by Bucky’s apartment and they’ll binge watch tv shows, or Steve will tell him stories from ‘back in the day’. They’ve only gone out in public two or three times and it was merely quick runs to get coffee, or more popcorn. So Bucky really doesn’t understand where this Hydra asshole is coming from when he says: “The reason we took you is because we know the Captain will come running right into our trap.” (aka: bucky is an award winning journalist who really doesn't appreciate being used as bait for a beefed up, spandex-clad super soldier.)

Maybe This Christmas

Word Count: 24.8k Rating: Teen and Up Notable Tags: Shrunkyclunks, Christmas Warnings: None Synopsis: Bucky’s not going home for Christmas. But it’s fine. He’s spending Christmas alone in his apartment, but it’s cool. He’s not feeling up to seeing his family after his accident anyway, plus he has to work. He’s totally fine with it. But then he runs into Steve, literally, and suddenly his Christmas isn’t looking so empty after all.

6 Avenue Local

Word Count: 10.6k Rating: Teen and Up Notable Tags: No Powers!AU, Veteran!Bucky, Graphic Designer!Steve Warnings: None Synopsis: It takes a moment for Steve to add up the features on the man in front of him: those blue-grey eyes, a cleft chin, high cheekbones. Sure, he's older, dirtier, taller, but there's only one person Steve knew who looked like that. "Bucky?" he asks. "Bucky Barnes?" It's been so long since he's said that name out loud. "Yeah, I..." Bucky pauses. "Oh fuck," he says. "I missed my stop." Steve smiles. “Wanna get a burger?” he asks, noting the happy coincidence that Bucky Barnes, of all the people in New York, fell asleep in the same subway car that Steve would walk into, and missed his stop. “Sure,” Bucky says with a shrug. “I could eat.”

Kingdom Come

Word Count: 8.2k Rating: Teen and Up Notable Tags: Missions Gone Wrong, Angst w/ Happy Ending Warnings: Near Death Experience Synopsis: “It’s too late, Steve,” Bucky’s voice across the comm is flat, layered with static. “The deadlock’s irreversible. S’the only way.” Steve knows what nearly dying feels like; knows it better than most, and this—those words, that voice, this impossible burning that courses through him like the serum in reverse, this. This is so much worse than nearly.

Just Me, You, and These Shitty Cigarettes

Word Count: 39.8k Rating: Explicit Notable Tags: Modern!AU, Veteran!Bucky, Barista!Bucky, Artist!Steve Warnings: Smut, Dubious Consent Synopsis: Steve Rogers is pretty sure Natasha's new roommate is trying to kill him. Which he wouldn't mind considering he's been helplessly in love with him since they were thirteen.

Where All Roads Lead

Word Count: 46.1k Rating: Explicit Notable Tags: Shrunkyclunks, Time Travel, Historian!Bucky Warnings: Smut Synopsis: When Steve Rogers inadvertently touches a relic in the course of a mission gone sideways during WWII, he’s catapulted seventy years into the future. Before he's even sure where he's ended up, his search for help puts him in contact with Bucky Barnes, a historian and college professor who has built a career around studying Captain America. With Bucky's help, Steve means to find out how exactly he ended up in 2017, and solve the bigger mystery of how to get home. There's just one problem. The closer they get to their goal, the less certain Steve is that he wants to go home.

Énoument

Word Count: 77.9k Rating: Mature Notable Tags: Shrunkyclunks, Meet-Cute Warnings: Smut Synopsis: When Steve first met Sergeant James Barnes during the New York invasion, he flipped Steve off for calling him a civilian, then roundhouse kicked an alien in the face. They haven't stopped talking to each other ever since, and Steve thought it was normal for him to latch onto the first person who befriended him after coming out of the ice. Nope, turns out he was just pining.

Closed Book

Word Count: 38.8k Rating: Explicit Notable Tags: Amnesia Warnings: Smut Synopsis: Bucky woke up with a headache, a mouth that tasted like something had died in it, and hands-down, swear-to-god, the most beautiful man he had ever seen asleep in his lap. Bucky was also, he realized after a moment, strapped down to a hospital bed with about six different monitors making unsynced, equally piercing, beeps. Beyond that he couldn’t quite see—there was a hideous floral curtain pulled around the bed, and while he could just make out figures moving in the room beyond it, the pattern made his head pound even worse the longer he looked at it. So. That was concerning.

#stucky #stucky fic rec #stucky fic #stevebucky #stevebucky fic #starbucks #wintersheild #steve rogers #bucky barnes #captain america #the winter soldier

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