#I doubt a Tumblr post is big enough to hold all of the text though lmao | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

leifygreeens · 2 years ago

Note

I know you said you might do this anyway, but what were the bachelorette's first impressions of the farmer? how did they all fall in love with them?

I had so many thoughts about this, and even though I cut out quite a bit—yes, it was worse than this—they’re still big. I actually had to rework the format because tumblr literally would not let me post the fucking text wall that was Maru's part, and then I couldn't have her part be formatted differently because that drove me insane. Jesus. Writing for Emily is still a little unfamiliar to me, and I think it reflects in my writing a little bit, but I hope I did her justice.

Bachelors are here.

Warnings: Scattered dialogue, self-doubt, and a little bit of thirst(Leah's fault, not mine), but mostly fluff. Mentions of injuries, blood, and the farmer being a reckless dumbass. Not proofread, please excuse any mistakes. Enjoy <3

Maru

Maru is extremely excited to meet you

Those farmlands have been sitting there for years, wasting away and falling apart with no one to care for them, and as a little girl she absolutely loved your grandpa

She was always interested in agriculture, and watching him work was never anything but interesting to her

She was heartbroken when he passed away, but because the farm belonged to your family after that, and there was a strict ‘no trespassing’ rule, she never got to visit

She could stand outside the gate, looking over the slowly deteriorating land, but never ever did she hop the fence

So the idea of the farmlands opening back up was a dream come true for her—the fact that someone was finally going to start caring for the land again filled her with so much joy

When she does finally meet you, that joy is confounded with curiosity

She can admit readily that she’s attracted to you, but she doesn’t get many opportunities to speak to you after the initial introductions, so it doesn’t go much deeper than that

You’re always so busy, and she doesn’t want to bother you, lest she distract you from your chores or responsibilities

But sometimes, you’ll come into town for your errands, and watching you flitting around with so much on your plate makes her hopeful for the future of the valley

She knows that your grandfather must be resting easy now, with the farm in your capable hands

Honestly, at first she thought you might fix up the farm enough to sell the land and make a dollar off of it, and then bounce

She’s relieved to know that you’re not doing that

And the more buildings you commission from Robin, the more excited she gets

There’s one time when she goes on a walk to take a break from a frustrating problem with one of her machines, and she ends up at the northern entrance of your farm

It’s greater than it ever was under your grandfather

The fields are full, there’s animal pens bursting with life, and you’re standing a little ways off, feeding your horse

You notice her, sensing her stare, and she’s terribly embarrassed at showing up without any invitation or warning—even if it was unintentional

But you grin, happy for the company, and usher her onto your property

She flicks open the gate, and the moment her feet touch the ground beyond the fence, she’s teleported back to her time as a toddler, when she would chase the chickens and watch your grandfather work

You’ve heard how close she was with him, and how much she looked up to him, so when she starts tearing up looking around the property, you lead her to your grandfather’s shrine

She kneels in front of the stone, holding her breath still in her chest to keep from sobbing

She’d never been able to visit the headstone before that moment, and seeing his name carved into the dark stone broke her heart

You give her permission to visit the farm whenever she likes, even when you’re not home, if ever she wants to visit him or take a break from everything

The farm is peaceful and beautiful, and she takes you up on the offer with a wet smile

She visits frequently after that, more often when she knows you’re home, but sometimes when you're not

One day in particular comes to mind: you’d run off to the desert for the day, for one reason or another

She was watching the animals disappear into their pens as the sun crept below the mountains when there was an otherworldly whirring sound by your home

When she spotted you behind your farmhouse, she almost fell apart

You were bruised, and there were shallow cuts in your skin where your clothes were torn—but there were also pieces of your clothing and hair that were dark like you’d been singed by flames

You caught sight of her, and smiled at her in relief

She helps you into the farmhouse with a hand around your hip, fully supporting you as you trudged up the front steps, and she's trying not to freak out

You collapse on the couch, too exhausted and sore to walk up the stairs to your bedroom

She does her best with what limited first aid supplies you have, but eventually you're all bandaged up and you look much better

But she’s terrified, though she knows that the likelihood of you dying on your couch is slim to none

While she’s bandaging a cut on your cheek, you realize that her hands are shaking terribly

Carefully, you reach up to hold her wrist, and she stops short

The air between you is charged with something new as you lock eyes

That's when it hits her.

But she’s afraid that if it isn’t reciprocated, you’ll stop letting her visit your grandfather and the farm, so she keeps that firmly to herself when you ask if she’s alright

She reassures you that she’s fine, just a little shaken, and that she’ll feel better if you let her finish

She stays over that night, keeping an eye on you from the other couch as you sleep—just for her peace of mind

You wake up and you’re better, but she still takes you to the clinic in the morning

Her dad gives her a lot of shit for spending the night at your place, but she doesn't let him get very far

It’s a little tense between them afterward, but she’s not having any of it—she might have his brains, but she got her mother’s spirit

You feel like shit for putting her through all of that though, and so you stay away from the caverns unless it’s strictly necessary

When it is necessary, you take a lot of food and warp totems with you, just in case—and staircases. Loooots of staircases

She’s grateful for that, but doesn’t know how much until a long while later

Her parents mentioned you after they got home from date night at Stardrop, and her whole world came crashing down

They told her that you looked terrible, and that you mentioned spending the day in the desert

she was out the door a moment later

Maru sprinted to town square, praying you were still at the saloon, and when she busted through the door, you were perched at the bar with a pint in your hand

You lifted up your head, and she really wished her parents could be more specific

You do look terrible, but not because you’re in bad shape—you’ve just got a nasty sunburn and the most horrendous bags under your eyes

Everyone is staring at her, because she never goes to the saloon, but she doesn’t care.

She’s so relieved that you’re okay.

You recognize the look on her face, pay for your tab without bothering to finish your drink, and pull her right back out the door

You walk her home, gently explaining that no, you did not go into the caverns today, you only went to the desert to pick up things from Sandy’s shop and for forage, and got sunburnt

"You don't owe me an explanation... It's none of my business anyway," Maru mumbles, but you shut her down with a hard look.

She can’t meet your eyes for fear of you seeing right through her

Her worry, her fear, her paranoia and the wild look in her eyes when she spotted you at the bar was all too honest

“You want it to be your business though, don’t you?”

She bites her lip hard, trying not to cry now that she knows she’s been found out

She nods, and then your hand is circling her wrist, and you’re pulling her into your chest

“I want it to be your business too.”

And if you feel her tears drip onto your clothed shoulder, you don’t mention it

Penny

Penny stopped in her tracks the first time she saw you

It was a few days after you’d arrived in Pelican Town, maybe the third or the fourth of Spring

She was dropping Jas off at home when she saw you chopping down trees in Cindersap with a worse-for-wear knapsack slung diagonally over your shoulders, stuffed full with wood and fiber

You were sweating, and panting, and part of her was concerned for your wellbeing, because in that moment she was sure you’d collapse right in the grass beside your ax

But then you wiped the sweat off of your forehead and felled a giant pine tree, in no time at all

She was going to stare some more, but then Jas yanked on Penny’s arm and asked her to walk her inside

Penny only barely managed to tear her gaze away from you to take Jas inside and drop her off

She’s not totally proud of it, and Marnie still teases her for it a little bit, but she rushed through dropping Jas off and was a little short with both of them in her eagerness to get back outside—but not to talk to you. Oh, no.

She was much too shy to do that

But she wanted to see you one more time before you left

Unfortunately by the time she escaped Marnie’s questioning stare, and all but tumbled out of the front door in her rush, you were already packed up and gone

You didn’t go to the egg festival (you were broke, and probably forgot about it in favor of clearing your farmlands)

The next time she got to take a look at you—a proper look, this time—was at the flower dance

You were walking around the meadow, introducing yourself to some, and familiarly greeting others

And when you introduced yourself to her, she nearly forgot her own name as you shook her hand

It had been four weeks since you moved to town, and your hands were calloused from the farm work you’d been busting your ass at since you arrived

But that was the only rough part about you

Everything else was soft and kind, and the way you said her name made butterflies erupt in her stomach

And the smile you gave her afterward was so pretty

She couldn’t forget the way your eyes crinkled at the edges as you bid her good luck during the dance and went on your way

And from then on, it felt like she was seeing you everywhere

Hearing about you from the other townsfolk, catching sight of you walking through town at least twice a day, and even getting a few opportunities to talk with you herself

And then her tiff with George happened, and she swears no one had ever been so quick to defend her—she was a little starstruck when you smiled softly at her after he was gone, and reassured her that what she did was kind and good-intended

You were always smiling at her like that, heartbreakingly gentle

When she apologized for the way her mom shouted at you after trying to help clean their trailer, when you ate her poor attempt at stir-fry without complaint, and especially when you showed up during her field trip with the kids in Cindersap

Clearly just out of the fields, dirt on your knees and mud on your boots, with the most breathtaking glitter in your eyes

Your skin was flushed from exertion, and she’s never seen anyone look attractive while sweating, yet there you stood, backlit by the early afternoon sun

And watching you interact with the kids was the cherry on top

She’s always wanted a big family, but no one in Pelican Town ever seemed like a good match for her—not in the long run, anyway

But she thinks you’re kind, and safe, and you have a natural energy that makes you easy to get along with

She’s well aware that she likes you, but she’s used to things not going her way, or being taken from her, so she resigns herself to an eternity of pining after you

She tries not to fantasize too much, because it’s a little embarrassing, and it hurts a little, but sometimes she can’t help but imagine what you might look like with a child bouncing on your hip

What you’d like for breakfast—how you’d like your eggs in the morning

She thinks about what domestic life with you would be like constantly

Shortly after Robin builds Penny and Pam their house, you show up on her doorstep

You asked Robin to keep it a secret, of course, so Penny doesn’t know it was you and still doesn’t

But she invites you in, too excited to show you everything to notice the stunning array of flowers clutched tightly behind your back

She insists on showing you around, and letting you check everything out

You both step into the kitchen, and she’s gesturing grandly at the dining space, practically squealing over the hand-embroidered tablecloth Granny Evelyn gave them as a housewarming gift

She spins around. “So? What do you think?”

And that’s when you finally reveal the bouquet behind your back

“I think these might look good on the table.”

She thinks you’re being kind, or that maybe you don’t know what those bouquets are for, because there’s just no way, right?

“Oh!—I’m sure we have a vase for these somewhere, just let me—”

You stop her with a careful hand on her wrist, barely gripping just in case you’ve read it all wrong and she wants to get away from you

“Penny. Do you… know what I’m asking you?”

And she does, but she’s in disbelief. There’s no way you’d want her too, right?

And now that she thinks about it, she could’ve sworn you were interested in Haley or Abigail, because, you know, obviously they’re both really pretty, but Haley’s family has money, and Abigail’s so much cooler than her—

“If I wanted them, would I be here, giving a bouquet to you?”

After you leave—because as romantic as you are, you’re still a busy person running a farm all by yourself—she puts the flowers on the table with the dopiest grin on her face

She flops into her bed and squeals into her pillow, the fluttering in her chest so strong she swears she could float away

She has trouble falling asleep that night, too busy thinking of your smile as she stares at the ceiling fan

Abigail

She’s determined to dislike you from the get-go no wonder her and Seb are friends

When she finally sees you, during an early spring trip to Pierre’s, she takes the sudden drop in her stomach as a sign that you’re bad news

Then you beat her at the egg hunt, and she’s in a sour mood for days

she will straight up refuse to leave her room if she knows you’re in the shop

Wednesday is her favorite day of the week, because she won’t have to see you

But of course you have the audacity to show up one day when she’s only just managed to get out of helping her mom with dinner

She’s getting her ass kicked in JotPK when you knock on her bedroom door

She doesn’t know why the hell you’re bothering her, and she’s suddenly embarrassed that you caught her right as she died, but then she gets an idea

She asks you to play in the hopes that you’re terrible at it so at least she’ll finally have proof that you’re not good at everything or perfect all the time

She half-hopes you say no, but then you’re sitting down and reaching for a controller, so she’s stuck with you

You make it past the first level without dying, while she gets killed within the first thirty seconds, because of fucking course

She’s halfway through thinking up a snarky barb when her mom calls for her

You set the controller down and smile at her, and then you’re reaching into your pocket

“I came over to give this to you. I found it in the mines, and it reminded me of you.”

You hand her the most opaque, gorgeous raw amethyst she’s ever seen

She has half a mind to ask why on earth you’d think about her, but then her mother is calling her again, more urgently the second time around, and you’re walking out within seconds

She stares at the amethyst for what feels like forever that night, thinking

She doesn’t get the opportunity to properly speak to you again until a week later

It’s raining, and she’s playing her flute, just basking in the whimsy feeling of the valley

She opens her eyes after a particularly long note to find you standing a few feet off, your fishing rod in hand

The rain is soaking you to the bone, with some of your hair stuck to the delicate skin of your throat, and she short-circuits

Her gut reaction is to get defensive and ask you what you’re doing, but you handle it with grace

You ask her what she was doing, and when she says she wanted to spend time alone, the recognition on your face is palpable

You nod, adjusting the strap of your backpack on your shoulder, but she stops you, saying some bullshit about how she doesn’t mind your company

Hasn’t she minded your company since you first showed up? Why is she lying??

But the surprise and hesitance clear on your face makes her feel… not nice

So she scoots over, gesturing vaguely to the space beside her

“You’re getting soaked. Come stand under the tree.”

What progress you made with her is quickly dashed when you pull out the mini harp—because why wouldn’t you also play an instrument?

She’s always been competitive, but she doesn’t understand why she’s so desperate to have something over you

Hearing about your trips in the mines from the other townies doesn’t help

Knowing you have the freedom to go wherever you like without any overbearing, old-school parents breathing down your neck, and the fact that you’re apparently in good standing with the two adventurers up at the guild, who speak to basically no one else?

One night her self-worth is particularly bad, and she runs off to the graveyard for some peace and quiet

Her dad is getting on her ass about “acting like a lady” more than usual and it’s been driving her up the wall

It rubs her the wrong way how no one bats an eye at the things you get up to, but everyone’s always getting on her case about acting “proper”

And of course you show up that night, too

Right in the middle of her break between drills, while she’s heaving and guzzling water

You appear out of seemingly nowhere, and the shriek she lets out is so fucking embarrassing

You don’t laugh at her for that, but she does see the mirth in your eyes when she says she was practicing her swordsmanship

As if the thought of her swinging a sword around is so funny to you

She snaps something about that, but then her entire world flips on its axis when you chuckle good-naturedly and make a joke about how pissy it must make Pierre, what with his old, dated-ass values

And then you ask if she’d ever like to practice with you—“I could use a sparring partner anyway”

And obviously Pierre catches you chatting in front of the headstones and nearly pops a blood vessel, and she’s irritated that you had to see them like that, but she’s caught totally off guard when you back her up and laugh at Pierre’s expense

“I know he’s your dad and all, so no disrespect to him, but fucking hell, the stick up his ass is massive”

That lightens her mood a bit, knowing that she has at least one more person who acknowledges that her parents are overbearing sometimes

Unfortunately for your patience, it takes a long time and a few sparring sessions before everything clicks into place for her

In the thick, humid heat of summer, she finally gets you down, her wooden sword pressed just below your jugular

The golden afternoon sunlight bounces off the sweat on your face, and it makes you glow beneath her

You give her a breathless smile, with an eager and impressed shimmer in your eyes, and suddenly, she understands

Every moment since you stepped off of the bus, she’s been pining after you

Desperate to have something over you, not because she wants to be better than you, per se, but because she wants to impress you

She cuts the session short, not glancing behind her even once as she all but sprints away from the farmlands

Once she’s home, she rushes into her room and locks herself inside, her face beet-red and sweaty from the run, and from you

The amethyst you gave her so long ago sits on her night stand, mocking her with its deep purple glow

And oh, she is so fucked.

Haley

She doesn’t share in the enthusiasm everyone has about you, and she honestly doesn’t really care that you’ve moved in

She has no interest in making friends with you—you’re always covered in dirt and sweat and she thinks it’s really strange gross

After you take Emily’s side over the couch cushions, she’s pretty bratty for a bit, and is convinced you have a crush on Emily in order to side with her

But if you give it a few weeks, she accepts that maybe that’s not true, given that your interactions with Emily don’t seem more than platonic

But there’s this one time, where you’re over to drop off some cloth or something, and she’s struggling with a jar in the kitchen

You open it for her without question, and when your hands brush against each other when you hand the jar back, Haley’s skin tingles

But then Emily is there and you’re leaving, so she doesn’t bother examining it further, content to move on with her life

That plan comes crashing down rather quickly though

A few weeks later while taking pictures at the beach, she notices her wrist is uncharacteristically barren

Immediate panic swells in her chest, and she spends thirty minutes pacing over the tiny dunes looking for her great-grandmother’s bracelet, not even caring when sand spills into her shoes and starts rubbing against her skin uncomfortably

She’s close to tears, paranoid and jerking her head this way and that at the slightest glimmer in the sand

Those thirty minutes pass, and she’s not found anything, and her tears start flowing freely

“Haley?”

She spins around, and sees you

She knows how eager you are to help everyone in town—you’re helping to fix up the old community center, all of the museum’s donation placards have your name on them, and every board request outside of Pierre’s rarely goes unanswered

Besides, you’ve helped George and Shane before, and surely she’s not as grouchy as they are, so maybe you’d be willing to help her, too?

She calls you over, and you immediately rush over at her tone

The concern on your face is enough to make a wave of fresh tears push forward, but she blinks them back desperately

Your hands are on her shoulders, squeezing softly as she tries not to cry

She resigns herself to never seeing her grandmother’s bracelet again, when your hands are leaving her skin

She feels cold immediately, even with the sun beating down on her neck

But then you start walking around, hunting for her lost jewelry with a focus unlike anything she’s ever seen, and the thought of you helping her when she’s been basically nothing but unkind makes her feel awful

Her tears get a new kick to them, clogging up her chest and making her sick to her stomach, when you’re calling out from across the beach

You rush over from Elliott’s shack, and she sees her bracelet glittering between your fingers as you hold it out

“Is this it?”

She doesn’t bother with a verbal response, grabbing the bracelet tightly in her own hand and flinging her arms around your shoulders to hug you close

She doesn’t think she’s imagining the blush on your face as you help her put the bracelet back on, and the way you hold her wrist before pulling away makes her burn

After that moment, she’s always noticing things about you

The little things you do that show how much you care for other people, how kind and compassionate you are—the way you have everyone wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even know it

She knows that’s not true, though—she knows that you can tell the effect you have on people, but she’s struck dumb by the fact that you never use that against them

You’re never manipulative, never inconsiderate, never anything but good and kind and she’s so fucking insecure because she’s always been bratty and selfish and shallow and there’s no way someone like you would ever like her back��Oh.

She wants you, but doesn’t think she deserves to, given how she treats people

She’s never really been one to wallow, though, so she springs to action immediately

She goes through her closet and donates half of her wardrobe, she starts doing her part to keep the house tidy, she smiles and waves at anyone she passes in town—she’s even started hanging out with Emily, and she’s having fun

After a few weeks, she realizes that now she’s motivated more by her relationships flourishing, instead of trying to impress you

But she can tell it’s making a difference with you, too, and that’s a nice plus

Especially when you’re both standing in Marnie’s pens, taking pictures with the cows, and you’re so gentle with her after she gets bucked off

You insist on walking her home, carrying her camera equipment for her and watching her closely for any discomfort or limping

She’s never felt so cared for, and she can’t think of anything else while she’s washing the mud off of herself

But you don’t ask her out until a little while later, probably sometime in Winter 2

You go into her house, and Emily sees the bouquet first, immediately knowing what it’s for and all but shoving you in the direction of the kitchen

Haley’s standing at the counter, making herself some peppermint coffee in her sleep clothes yes i’m bitter it’s not an in game item shut up, and maybe it’s not as romantic as you wanted it to be, but she just looks so cute and cozy that you ask anyway

She says yes, of course, and she can’t stop smiling long enough to drink her coffee, even after you’re gone and the flowers are sitting proudly on her vanity

Leah

Leah’s world isn’t really affected all that much when you show up in Pelican Town

She’s excited to see what you do with the farmlands, and she wouldn’t be opposed to having another friend besides Elliott, but she’s not going to bust her ass to make friends with you

She’s got bills to pay on an artist’s salary, and her days are filled with foraging and working on her art, so she busy

But the first time she meets you is when she’s walking to the spring onion patch for some late morning foraging

When she arrives, she’s disappointed to find that you’re already there, yanking the last of the spring onions out of the ground

Most of her money goes into paying her bills, so her diet mainly consists of food she’s foraged in Cindersap or around the valley

She depends a little too heavily on the onions during spring, so if there’s someone else in the valley who forages for food besides Linus, she’s got to rework her schedule to make sure she gets enough to eat

She’s in the middle of asking what you did before moving to Pelican Town when you pull a face and start digging through your bag

And then you’re dropping five of the largest ones into her basket

She’s surprised by it, and her gut reaction is to tell you ‘oh, you didn’t have to do that, I could’ve found something else’—but you’re not having any of it

You’re waving goodbye and traipsing off towards the tower, the sun beating down and making you gleam like gold

She shakes it off and walks home, caught off guard by how readily kind you are to someone you only just met

And your kindness doesn’t stop there

Sometimes she doesn’t have time between her art projects to go look for anything in Cindersap, so you take it upon yourself to get things for her too

And the only reason you overhear her heated phone conversation with Kel is because you’re dropping off forage for her

She starts doing the same for you, when your farm really takes off

She’s blown away by how much progress you’ve made, and she’s honestly a little jealous, but she can’t find it in herself to be bitter because you’re so wonderful all the time

Someone like you deserves a nice life like that, you know?

She’s inspired by you and your kindness, so much that she carves a sculpture for you

She doesn’t realize she has feelings for you when you display her sculpture on your porch, even though the feeling in her chest is overwhelming and fluttery

The moment she pieces everything together, it’s your fault

She’s trying to reach a fruit high up in the cherry blossom tree, already breathless from her continued efforts, when you appear out of thin air and scare the living daylights out of her

She looks up at the fruit longingly, and maybe if she jumps off of the trunk she can reach a little higher—

You lift her up like she weighs nothing, smiling kindly as she looks down at you in surprise

She’s sitting on your shoulder, your hands supporting her under her boots, and she plucks the fruit from the branch with a few twists

You let her down, snorting dryly when she comments on your strength, and she quickly uses her whittling knife to carve off a piece of the fruit for you

She holds it out for you to take, but you glance down at your hands with a frown

You got dirt on them from her shoes when you lifted her up, and you’re not totally jazzed at the idea of eating mud and dirt with your fruit

She thinks maybe you’ll stick your hands in the pond to rinse them off, but nope.

She blushes furiously when you lean forward and take the fruit into your mouth, straight out of her hand

Your lips brush her fingertips, and she gasps at the contact

You swallow and smile, and then you’re shrugging your backpack on and walking away like you totally didn’t just flip her world upside down and turn it inside out

It’s all she can think about from then on, no matter what you’re talking about or how brief your interactions are

She tries her best not to let it show, but it’s hard when you’re all she can think about, and all she wants to do is kiss those god awful lips of yours

She invites you to her art show in town, and you show up all dressed up for the occasion, with a glitter in your eyes she’s never seen before

Encouraging her once again, and for fucks’ sake would you please stop looking at her like that???? She’s about to give a speech to the whole town, she’s already nervous!

The show goes well—her sculptures were all sold, and Mayor Lewis even commissioned her for a Pelican Statue to put in the town square

Life’s going better than it has in a long time; her bills will be paid, and her confidence is through the roof

You’re walking her home after the show when you daringly thread your hands together

She looks at you in surprise, transfixed by the steady blush creeping down your neck and up to the tips of your ears

She squeezes your hand, a blush of her own spreading over her face that doesn’t go away even after you drop her off

She flops into bed with a dopey grin on her face, giggling uncontrollably and kicking her feet and holy fuck, she’s in her late twenties, why is she so giddy over holding hands???

It’s embarrassing, but no one is here with her anyway, so who cares?

She's too busy flying on cloud nine anyway, high on the fact that you like her too.

Emily

She’s practically foaming at the mouth to meet you LMFAO

She had a dream about a new farmer moving into Pelican Town a month before you even quit at Joja

So when the townspeople found out you claimed your grandfather’s farm, Emily was truthfully, impatient as hell

She tried to keep her mind busy so it didn’t occupy her every day, but it got harder to do the closer it got to your arrival date

And she swore there was something different in the air when you stepped off the bus

The egg festival was the first time she spoke to you, and she’s sure it must be destiny that you spoke to her first out of everyone in the square

Right off the bat she knew there was something different about you

The way you carried yourself, and how you looked at the world around you

There was wonder there, like you had only just started living

She got the opportunity to know why when you visited the saloon one night

It was slow, and she was busying herself by wiping out a few wine glasses when you walked in, fresh out of the mines

You looked worse for wear, but when she asked if you were alright, your mood was overwhelmingly positive

Exploring the mines was easier than working at Joja at least—or so you claimed

Given how often she hears about people feeling stuck and stagnant, she’s glad at least one person in Pelican Town is taking charge of their life and trying to be happy

But the longer you’re in the valley, the better everyone’s lives seem to be going

Pam has her job back again, the minecarts are working, and then the community center is up and running—all thanks to you

She finally understands why she was having dreams before you ever showed up when the Joja Mart closes down and gets remodeled into a gorgeous movie theater a few weeks later

Everywhere you go good fortune seems to follow—the trees sway toward you, the water calms in your presence, and the wind blows a little gentler, and now the community is finally rid of that terrible corporation’s presence

When she finally realizes that she likes you, there’s no catalyst—no special moment or anything

You’re not even there when it clicks

She’s in her room, sewing a new dress for Haley for Feast of the Winter Star Christmas, and her train of thought wanders to you

She thinks of the dreams, of your influence over the townspeople, over the flora and fauna, and she knows that it was destiny for you to move to Pelican Town and fix everything

But then she sets that aside, and thinks about you

Just you

The way you look after a day out in your fields, the sound of your laugh, the dedication you show in everything you do, and the compassion and thoughtfulness of your actions

Even when you’re not fixing up the town, or dropping off gifts to some townie or another, you’re a bright spot in the middle of the gloom—the eye of the storm

You’re safe, and she gets teared up thinking about you

She likes you so much

She’s immediately abandoning the dress in favor of busting out her tarot cards, because now she has to know for sure

Is it a waste of time? Is it for her to decide? Is it destiny?

She doesn’t know, and she needs to find out before it drives her insane, and then The Lovers and Two of Cups fall out of her deck

She’s confident that the universe is pointing her in your direction, and she’s not going to ignore those signs any longer

She’s on her way to Pierre’s, coin purse in hand and jingling with the gold she needs to seal her future with you, when you run smack into each other outside of her house

You both stumble, but while you right yourself without issue, she falls backward

You catch her just in time and drag her back to her feet, apologizing profusely for knocking her down, and seeing you in front of her with your arms carefully looped around her waist, well

She confesses on the spot

It’s awkward, she’s stuttering the whole time, and you’re wide eyed in surprise as she stumbles over her words

Eventually she trails off, her cheeks as red as her dress, when you smile softly, and hold up a bouquet

She didn’t even notice it in your hands, but seeing it now, how could she have possibly missed it?????

A little bummed that you bought the bouquet first, but then again, this is the universe we’re talking about, she can’t complain about its methods

Certainly not when you’re carefully kissing her cheek and placing the flowers in her hands

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olderthannetfic · 4 years ago

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Ah, I do see your points, anon. I'm not going to post all your asks publicly because if you really feel that unsafe, it's probably best not to have a bigass chunk of your text for people to analyze and try to guess your identity from. I think one of the best points you made is about how close to home it hits when the non-fave is not only your fave but is similar to you in some way like demographic. You're not wrong for having those emotions. I do wonder if they make it hard to see how some other people feel similarly embattled on other axes.

TBH, I think one of the big problems here is that the large aggregate patterns you're talking about are racist, but most individual fics and fans are not really the problem. It's hard to know how to talk about this or who to tell to "fix" it when we're looking at free, hobbyist art.

A lot of people's tastes are certainly formed by shitty society, but once they're formed, they don't change fast if at all. Asking someone to rewrite their libido is a big ask, yet tumblr does it all the time as though it's as simple as snapping your fingers.

This leaves me with the sense that a lot of tumblr is... like... the political lesbians of porn fic or something: desire is not real, only choosing based on logic and politics. Or maybe people are so asexual that they just don't understand the lizard brain's "YES!" at some porn things and complete indifference to others?

I don't think it's great if great swaths of people feel like bottom!Nicky is super hot and top!Nicky fundamentally isn't, but I also don't think they can necessarily just turn it off like flipping a switch.

(If someone reading this doesn't like their current tastes and wants to attempt to alter them, I do think it's possible. What you should do is line up a large slate of media that prominently features characters of the ethnicity or whatever that you don't find hot/interesting. These should be leads whose emotional development drives the plot and is supposed to be central to the audience's enjoyment of the media. Watch/read/etc. this media all the time. All. The. Time. Try out many pieces because you won't like every character or every show, and we're looking for genuine enjoyment, not the fandom equivalent of a pity fuck. Spend enough time on this, and your unconscious sense of who's hot and interesting will eventually shift somewhat. This is a project you should expect to take a few years.)

But I digress.

The one tweet thing is a very toxic pattern. If TOG fandom is doing that, guys, please try to be more conscious of holding the actors of color to a higher standard (or the women or whomever). I know this often comes from a place of paying more attention to our own and wanting to set a good standard, but the effect is that minorities can't fuck up ever while white dudes get infinite passes.

Okay, on to the fic thing... Gotta say, my instant reaction to that description is "Ooh!"--as it would be for the same scenario with the characters reversed. (Ships who start out trying to kill each other are my favorite! x1000 if they're resurrecting style immortals and they literally do.) I can see how it would feel like slamming into a brick wall if you aren't kinky in just the right way and you didn't know it was coming though.

Part of why I react so strongly to a lot of discourse that runs along these lines is that I am a naturally extremely kinky person. It's not so much about what I do (which as a deeply lazy person in a long distance relationship is essentially nothing), but it's absolutely how I'm wired.

And I can tell you that my quotidian experience in fandom is sharing something I don't even realize is a big deal only to have someone I like, respect, and trust react in horror and tell me that it's triggering and awful and should not be allowed in fandom spaces because it makes "people" unsafe. It's such an instant, kneejerk reaction they don't even realize I was sharing it because it spoke to the very core of me. Lesson learned, friend. Lesson learned.

That sounds a bit off topic, I know, but bear with me: The point of that anecdote is that it's pretty common for me to get people trying to raise my awareness of things I have already thought deeply about while denying my essential humanity and not even realizing. As a kinky person who likes to make my fave the top (and generally a conflicted sadist), this constant request to explain and justify is exhausting.

I doubt most of the top!Joe fans have this precise problem simply because people who make their fave the top are much less common in fandom than people who make their fave the bottom, but I see a similar pattern with fans who are just fundamentally wired for rape fantasies (one of the most common fantasies that exists) vs. fans who just don't get rape fantasies at all. Or substitute your BDSM/kinky/messed up fantasy trope of choice. Covertly radical feminist attitudes towards kink and power are on the rise in fandom, and as a naturally kinky person, boy do I notice it!

I know that it feels like crucial activism to share these insights about why the ratio of top!Joe is hurtful, and the pain you feel is real. But it's also the case that it's a big ask to want people to listen. (Not me. Obviously, I routinely choose to engage with discourse. I mean overall.) The reason for that is that you're only seeing a fraction of what they do or who they are, and you don't know how many previous people they've listened to how many previous times. It's a very different situation from someone whose job is making some major TV series or movie or something. That person does, in my opinion, owe you some amount of listening.

Now, I'm not saying no top Joe fan was ever a jerk. I'll bet they were. There's a tendency to be rude and to publicly air your schadenfreude when you feel like everyone has been yelling at you. What I am saying is that a lot of the problem here boils down to conflicting needs, and that means there isn't a good solution. It's a situation where people are genuinely hurt, but I don't necessarily agree that other people have harmed them.

I like that you did an actual count of the explicit fics, btw. It's good to look at the real numbers. I see too little of that in these situations. My off the cuff reaction is that 2/3 to 1/3 is not a bad ratio at all compared to many fandoms, but yeah, it definitely shows a strong trend, and that can be painful. (I have a fandom where I think there's maybe like 1 bottom so-and-so fic in the entire zine era fandom. One. It's pretty extreme.)

I guess my thinking here overall is: What is the practical solution? What are we hoping to gain? What is reasonable to ask of people?

And it can't be "Well, if they would just listen..." That's just a sneaky way of saying "If you haven't done it my way, it's because you haven't listened to me yet."

So the question I would ask of people is this:

What does a non-racist fic where Joe tops look like?

What does a non-racist sex pollen, dubcon, or even noncon fic where Joe tops look like?

And if you say the latter is impossible... well... sadists exist everywhere in the world. So do doms. So do people who prefer to top in a purely physical sense. People with rape fantasies where they're the rapist exist (people who are not actually rapists, I mean). None of this is restricted to any one group. We can't categorically say fic like that about Joe is coming from a place of racism without denying the fundamental humanity of kinky MENA people who'd want to make Joe like themselves or like their ideal partner. (Yes, I agree this won't be the majority of fic writers writing top!Joe, but this is a place to start for figuring out what the better version would look like.)

IDK, maybe you're that kinkster yourself, but your asks gave me the vibe that you don't really get the drive towards those darker kinds of fics and what might be motivating it besides stereotypes and shittiness.

If we can answer these kinds of questions, we can better critique the way people write what they write without telling them all of their taste is bad and they should just stop writing. Even if we think the latter is true, it isn't going to get us anywhere. Figuring out how to make Joe more multidimensional in the fic they already want to write or finding very specific wording that should be avoided might actually work.

Beyond that, the actions I think are productive would be running prompt fests, exchanges, or other events for bottom!Joe or for top!Joe where he's the main character and the fics are required to be from his POV. Themed collections and recs lists are great. (I've seen a bit of this going around in TOG fandom in the past, and that's an excellent approach! Keep it up!) Positive actions tend to work better here. Make more of what you want. Promote what you want to see.

I don't mean this in some fluffy magical thinking way: you aren't going to change that ratio radically just by the power of positivity. But I've seen this kind of thing play out in many, many fandoms, and going after the people who write what you don't like, even in a well-intentioned effort to educate and even in a polite, kind way doesn't do much. A few people feel guilty. A few feel defensive. A lot ignore you. The overall fic doesn't change. It's not a good use of your limited time and energy.

I'm off to look up that fic to see what I think of it in practice, but I'm going to post this before tumblr manages to eat it.

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nbrook29 · 4 years ago

Text

love you to the moon and to saturn

This is part 4 of my Sander in NYC ‘verse. I posted it on ao3, but recently I’ve also been posting my fics on tumblr so here it is 😌

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Warnings: mild sexual content

* * *

Saturday, 10:00

His sleep was anxious, mind too preoccupied with stress to allow him to get a proper rest. The wake up was even worse as mere seconds after he blinked the sleep away from his tired eyes the memories of last night crept back in, flooding him with worry and making his brain replay the argument over and over again like a broken cassette. And then he checked his phone only to find a string of messages and missed calls, all from Sander, causing his stomach to twist with nerves at what they were going to say.

His abrupt leaving had been a dick move and if Sander was pissed, Robbe knew he couldn’t blame him. So he stalled, finger barely swiping at the screen as he was unsure whether to unlock it and face the consequences or maybe throw the phone back on his bedside table and bury himself under the covers to wait for his courage to come back and for his nerves to settle.

Heaving a sigh, he chose option number one because it was the only rational one.

He tapped Sander’s photo, holding his breath without even registering it.

Two seconds later he knew.

He didn’t need to worry.

Sunday 13:00

Robbe hides another smile into his glass at the thought of yesterday’s evening, trying to focus on what Marie is saying. She’s talking animatedly about a guy she met at her new internship, hearts almost flowing out of her eyes as she swoons on the wooden stool and sips her black coffee. She’s the kind of girl who falls in love quickly and falls out of love just as quick. Across from where he’s sitting, he sees Fien and Lucas rolling their eyes at her exaggerated lovesick sighes making him snort in his marshmallow latte.

“Weren’t you obsessed with that lanky guy from Starbucks last week? What happened to him?”

Marie shrugs, tossing her long brown hair back from her shoulders. “I decided he was too old for me.”

“Didn’t you say he was 21?” Robbe interjects with amusement, remembering their group messenger chat he caught up with this morning.

“Exactly!”

They all start bickering about the appropriate age difference in relationships, Robbe watching them as he munches happily on one of the soggy marshmallows he fished out from his cup, trying not to giggle at Lucas’ scandalized face at Marie calling 21 old. Robbe knows from the many stories Lucas has shared so far that his own boyfriend is a senior at college so his reaction is even more entertaining because of that.

It feels good to be around them again, Robbe thinks to himself. He’s been canceling on them way too often those last few weeks and he still feels guilty about it. They’re a fun bunch, their bantery dynamic established since day one when they all chose the middle row to sit in during their morning classes, and then promptly spent half of it bonding over the outrageous occurrence that was the absence of a coffee shop on the campus. Not long after, Robbe also discovered that apart from the passion for filmmaking, they all also like skateboarding. After that, the rest was history.

They were for sure a nice distraction from Robbe’s intrusive thoughts in the beginning of the semester. He lucked out, finding his group, his people, so early on in his college journey. But at some point even their goofiness and honest attempts at cheering him up weren’t enough. Not since the news from Sander came that he’s staying in New York until February and since the thing with Jens.

Now, observing them from over his half-drunk coffee, lips twitching at some of the more creative but still lowkey insults Marie and Lucas throw at each other, he realizes he has really missed them. They’re like siblings, the two of them, constantly bickering and teasing one another, but it’s all good-natured and amusing to watch.

“Oh my god, let it go, children, for the love of god,” Fien cuts in abruptly, before turning her big expectant eyes on Robbe, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger and adding innocently, “I’d finally like to hear about Sobbe’s makeup.”

Heat rushes to Robbe’s cheeks and he scratches at the back of his neck, bashful all of a sudden. She’s the number one fangirl of his relationship, he has learned recently, but in a cute way, not creepy like Aaron sometimes used to be with his invasive questions. She always moans about being forever single, pouting at Robbe for some fluffy snippets and claiming in faux-seriousness that he owes it to the world to share them with others for being lucky enough to have a fairytale-like love story.

Robbe has never disclosed to them how unfairytale-like some of the details are because it’s not his story to tell. But he really likes her so he always indulges her, usually after a bit of teasing. And, sue him, but he’s proud of his relationship and the fact that he of all people can call Sander his boyfriend, so even if he brags a little, he thinks he has good reasons for it.

(He’s still kinda smug when he thinks about the time when he showed the three of them a photo of Sander, a pleased little smile on his face at their reactions and playful threats of stealing him for themselves.)

“Oh yeah, I wanna know too,” Marie agrees excitedly, scooting her chair closer to him. “You’ve been all smiley ever since you came over here so I’m guessing that hottie of yours did something right,” she ends on a teasing note, her waggling eyebrows leaving Robbe no doubts she expects some saucy details.

“Oh my god, stop,” he groans as he hides his face in his hands, his friends giggling at his embarrassment. “It wasn’t like that! We just… finally talked things out.”

Saturday, 18:00 (flashback to last night)

Robbe’s been gnawing on his bottom lip relentlessly, completely unaware, to the point it’s a few bites away from drawing blood. He can’t help but feel nervous, the cursor hovering over the 'accept' button as he's rolling his eyes on himself internally, telling himself to stop making a bigger deal out of this that it needs to be. There is a bit of embarrassment clouding his logical reasoning to be honest, embarrassment about his overreaction last night.

Was it an overreaction? He's still not completely sure, but it's not like avoiding the situation is going to magically fix everything between them. Even though he'd really like that. It feels so awkward to be in this position. Robbe doesn't know what the protocol here is. They bicker, quite often even. Fight a little too, stomping off out of each other’s room grumpily but only over stupid stuff, nothing like this.

He's walking on an unknown ground just hoping he's not going to make things worse. He desperately needs their dynamic back because he's already over it.

Not being able to share the most mundane every day stuff with each other over texts to joke about it, rile the other up or just vent about something stupid like their coffees not being hot enough on a given rainy morning sucks.

So he takes a deep breath and clicks on the button before he works himself into a never-ending second-guessing.

When Sander says a soft hi and smiles at him with the usual warmth in his eyes, something akin to relief courses through him from head to toe.

He gives him his own tentative smile and a short hi, pushing himself higher against the pillows. Before Sander can say anything more, he lets go of what has been weighing down on him the entire day.

“I’m sorry,” he starts, contrite. “About yesterday. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just logged off like that without explanation. And then ignore your messages,” he adds after a pause because that’s what he feels most guilty about. He knows he’d freak out if Sander just cut him off without giving him an opportunity to talk things out, would worry himself sick.

Sander looks conflicted, brows knitted together, like a part of him wants to reassure Robbe because it's in his nature, but the other part is genuinely hurt. Robbe doesn't want compassion. Not for that, because he knows he doesn’t deserve it. Causing Sander distress is the last thing he wants.

"Yeah, it did suck," he finally admits after a moment passes, and Robbe finds comfort in his honesty. It’s a good start. They won’t get anywhere with false niceties and pretending everything’s fine. Robbe tried pretending, yesterday and most of their calls before that, and it got them where they are now.

“I mean, I know you didn’t want to talk about your problems yesterday,” pausing, he scrunches up his nose a bit, “but maybe next time just don’t log off so abruptly so I know you’re okay?” his voice tilts on a hopeful note.

Robbe just nods, feeling shameful, hating that there’s not much more that he can do when he’s talking to him through his computer, and can’t exactly reach out to cuddle up to Sander’s side or kiss the underside of his jaw as a silent apology to then stay close for the rest of the evening as they heal together.

It’s frustrating and disheartening, but it affects them both the same amount and Robbe needs to remember that. Because the truth is, Sander didn’t exactly give him a legitimate reason to doubt him or to think he didn’t miss him. Those full of hurt eyes Sander gave him yesterday at the suggestion have been eating away at him all day.

Robbe just got swallowed by his own insecurities and let the little things that bothered him consume him all instead of, well. Communicating.

Sander was right yesterday. Of course he was.

He knows he has some more apologies to give.

“I’m also sorry for not telling you earlier how I felt,” he keeps pouring his heart out, “and for, you know, assuming you don’t miss me much, and-”

“Woah, hey,” Sander stops him before he can get himself deeper into the spiral. “Robbe, I fucked up too, don’t take it all on yourself.” He adjusts his laptop and Robbe can see his face clearer now, his eyes bloodshot and tired, a clear sign of a sleepless night, and the guilt clogs his throat even more now.

“I should have seen something wasn’t right.” When Robbe shakes his head and goes back to apologizing, Sander shoots him a pointed look that makes him shut up. “I should have, don’t deny it. You know, I took a long walk yesterday after you hung up, to clear my head, but also to get a perspective on our latest talks. And I felt so dumb for not realizing you were not doing okay.”

“Sander, I don’t expect you to read my mind,” Robbe tries to joke, but it falls flat even in his own ears. But he can’t bear those big regretful eyes on him. He doesn't deserve them.

“Baby, I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you the way you needed me to. Please tell me now? What’s been bothering you, hmm?”

Robbe scrubs his face trying to collect his thoughts, to find a concise way to get everything out of his chest, but he doesn’t know where to start.

“It may take a while.”

Sander makes a show of fluffing the pillow he placed against his back and getting himself more comfortable on his bed, sighing with contentment for a better effect.

“Look, I’m in my comfy clothes, got an energy drink on my nightstand, the computer battery is full and I told everyone I’m busy so they won’t nag me with anything. I’m all yours today.” He gives him an encouraging smile, fondness etched into every crevice of his face.

Robbe’s heart does a little skip at his words, Sander’s demeanor so comforting that he feels the last pieces of apprehension ebbing away, the need to vent overpowering the hesitation of showing his vulnerability.

“I think I just found myself overwhelmed with some things,” he admits quietly, picking at his nail, an absent-minded habit when he’s nervous, as he’s trying to find the right words. “A lot has changed in those last few months, almost all at once, and I kinda have trouble coping. And like,” he scoffs at himself, “I’m angry with myself ‘cause I should be enjoying most of it, being in college and majoring in something that I actually like, and it’s great, but I can’t help but focus on all the things that are different now, things that are not so great.”

Before continuing, he flicks his gaze to Sander for a second, only to then cast his eyes back to his lap. “The last two years with you were the happiest of my life, you know? After years of bullshit and constant misery and pretending to be somebody I wasn’t I-,” he sighs, bittersweet smile on his lips,”I finally found my person, you know?”

Sander mirrors his smile, but he’s frowning a little. “But you still have me,” he reminds him softly.

“I know, but it sucks when I can’t just, I don’t know, snuggle up you and forget about stuff. It’s all your fault, by the way, you’ve been too good to me and now I have withdrawal symptoms,” he pouts, and hears Sander chuckling on the other side of the screen.

“You have no idea how much I wish virtual hugs were a thing. And kisses, oh my god, kisses too. I’m so kiss-deprived. Once I finally get my hands on you, I won’t let you go for a week.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

For a short moment, Sander manages to bring a genuine smile on his face, but it quickly disappears when the reality sets back in. There are still almost four long months to get through. He watches Sander’s smile slipping off his face slowly and he knows they’re both thinking about it.

The boy sighs deeply. “You know, sometimes I feel like it was a mistake to-”

Robbe’s eyes snap to him. “No, no, no, don’t think that, it wasn’t a mistake. Please don’t feel guilty or something, that’s the last thing I want you to do,” he stresses. Sander still looks conflicted, and fuck, this is exactly what Robbe wanted to avoid.

“Hey, I’m serious. Look, you not being here is tough, but like I said, it’s just things piling up, changing. Shit like school work that has been piling up and me getting so stressed about the end-of-the-semester project because I still haven’t figured out the details. Plus people moving away, all of that makes it difficult for me to adjust. So don’t go thinking it’s because you’re the center of my universe or something,” he ends his rambling with a feigned-offended huff and Sander easily lets them slip into their usual banter.

“I’m not?! Wow, the things a guy finds out after being such a devoted and doting and loving boyfriend.” He wipes the imaginary tear, letting out a long-suffering sigh. “Such a menace, breaking my heart in half on this lovely Saturday afternoon.” He purses his lips in offence and Robbe is grateful for Sander’s attempt to lift the mood, trying to be upbeat.

He feels a tug in his chest thinking about how if Sander was here, he’d be tackling him to the nearest surface to shut him up with tickles and loud smooches and playful jabs in the sides and how they would make much more noise than necessary, acting like the rambunctious teens they are.

That’s going to have to wait too. But he discovers this thought doesn’t hurt as much as it would have yesterday because their conversation right now, this opportunity to vent and Sander’s texts last night, all of it makes him feel better, helps him see he’s not alone.

“I love you,” he blurts out all of a sudden, and it’s something he’s wanted to say since he read his heartfelt texts this morning that almost made him cry in relief.

Sander blinks a couple times, surprised, but then his previously playful face melts into such a fond look it makes Robbe blush like it was the first time he said it.

The I love you too comes right away, soft and quiet, like he’s telling a secret, and it’s heart-stoppingly precious.

To keep himself from drowning in fuzzy feelings, he shoots him a private little smile and steers the conversation back to his friends, telling him how it sucks that it’s they all now live away and how unexpectedly difficult it is to meet up. Robbe’s used to basically having everyone at arm-reach.

“We do video call, obviously, but you know, Milan is all loved up with Ralph in Amsterdam and not that keen on leaving their love nest and Zoe and Senne keep traveling between Genk and Ghent, which with Zoe’s coursework and internship is already a struggle. I don’t think they’re doing that well, actually,” he winces, remembering their last conversation.

If during freshman year somebody had told Robbe who his best friends were going to be, he’d looked at them as if they had grown two heads. Because for real, Jana’s new friend and her roommate? And school’s fuckboy?

But life’s funny like that sometimes. Moving into their apartment in his sophomore year has been one of the best decisions he’s ever made. His number one best decision is currently frowning at him from his dirty screen.

“Oh, that sucks. Do you think they’ll work it out?”

Robbe sighs deeply, propping his chin on the heel of his palm. “Senne has been thinking about finding a job in Genk so I hope so.”

Sander huffs a laugh suddenly, shaking his head. “Wow, I wish I was in his place and there were only 2 hours between us, instead of a whole ass ocean.”

“Yeah, I think once you’re back we’re gonna have a master's degree in that long distance bullshit,” Robbe smiles at him wistfully.

“Ugh, never again though. You’re not getting rid of me, it sucks without you, Robin.” He sounds so grumpy Robbe can’t help the short giggle that escapes him, but deep down he’s happy they both share that sentiment.

They’re staring at each other now, enjoying the moment before Sander shoots him a knowing look. “You haven’t mentioned Jens.”

That sobers him up enough for the fuzzy feelings to disappear from his stomach.

Jens. There’s not much to talk about really. And isn’t that a punch-in-a gut kind of truth considering it was his best friend? Isn’t it heartbreaking that Robbe didn’t even feel like fighting for that relationship and there’s a nagging voice in his head telling him that Jens didn’t either? Just a regular heated argument was enough to finally cut that last string, to put a stop to a friendship that had been hanging by a thread long before. Not that they had noticed.

He felt awful, afterwards. More alone than ever before. But deep down he knew it had only been a matter of time. He just wished Sander had been there to pick up the pieces.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Robbe winces, going back to apologizing once he translates his feelings to words the best he can, hoping he made Sander understand.

The boy pulls a face at him, eyes narrowed as he pretends to give him a stern look. “Enough with apologizing today, okay?” He waits until Robbe nods, albeit begrudgingly, because it’s in his second nature to keep saying sorry when he knows he messed up.

He nestles against his pillows to get more comfortable as he glances to the window, registering that sometime during their call it got completely dark outside, November days getting shorter still. He can feel tiredness starting to creep into his bones, the nervous anticipation before their call he had endured all day wearing him down significantly.

There are still some things he needs to get out of his chest and Sander coaxes them gently one by one, listening to him moaning and groaning about his school course load and how he thinks he’s not skilled enough to come up with interesting ideas and being quick to cut him off and reassure him when Robbe’s words get self-deprecating. He’s so attentive and so patient with him, not even an ounce of judgement in his eyes that Robbe feels the pressure and stress that have accumulated over the last few weeks finally letting go with each word he pours out.

When the conversation eventually steers to Robbe’s uni friends and he admits sheepishly that he kinda ghosted them lately, feeling too blue to go out and have fun, Sander interrupts him mid-sentence.

“You should reach out to them, tonight.”

At Robbe’s unsure look, he continues, “If they’re as cool as you made them out to be, I’m sure they’re gonna understand you needed some time to figure things out.”

He then proceeds to cover his ears and whistle, refusing to talk more until Robbe caves and shoots a text to the group chat, trying to keep it short, but explaining things along the way and making amends. Sander’s very pleased with his persuasion skills, beaming at him when Robbe reads him the replies he gets from Lucas, Marie and Fien, wearing a small smile himself as he rolls his eyes at Sander’s smug face.

Sander then asks about his mom and it’s so sweet because he always makes sure to ask, and Robbe falls for him even more each time he does. He’s a bit reluctant when Robbe tries to make him talk about his recent days, keeps saying this call is not about him, but he gives in before Robbe gets upset about it.

Watching his eyes light up with excitement when he talks about his classes works like a balm for Robbe’s yearning heart, Sander’s genuine happiness making his own struggles worth it. It’s a nice reminder that he’s there to make his dreams come true and that it’s everything Robbe has wished for him.

When Sander talks about shenanigans with his friends, Robbe recalls the TikTok video he watched some days ago.

“Nice Michael Jackson moves, by the way,” he comments, trying to sound innocent, but it ends up coming out a little coyishly as he bites at his finger to hide his smirk.

Confusion clouds Sander’s face but only for a second. Then, his lips stretch in a wide grin and he looks very pleased with the confession. “Have you been stalking me, Robin?”

Robbe shrugs, a picture of innocence as he keeps peeking at him from under his lashes. “I might’ve seen a video or two. They’re all so thirsty for you in the comments though,” he adds, putting a note of faux-jealousy in his voice. He quickly noticed that Sander’s new uni friend is semi-popular on the app so his videos always get a fair share of comments. Ever since Sander appeared in them, the hoard of the guy’s fans has been declaring their love for Robbe’s boyfriend under every video. They mostly make him laugh, but sometimes he’ll roll his eyes at some of the raunchier ones, possessiveness that he didn’t know he had activating in his brain.

He waits for Sander’s cocky comment, but to his utter delight, he blushes deep red and scoffs.

“Shut up, it’s so embarrassing,” hiding his face in his hands, he adds, “All of my friends have been teasing me about it constantly.”

“Aww, poor you, being fawned over must be such a hardship, how do you cope?”

“Oh I don’t know, smartass, you can tell me from experience ‘cause I saw those comments under your old vlogs.”

Robbe huffs a laugh. “They were nowhere near as detailed as yours!”

“What can I say, I’m irresistible,” Sander quips back and yeah, there he is, Robbe’s favorite (cocky) dork. “If I’d known you’re my TikTok fan, I’d have sent you those videos right away so you wouldn’t have to waste your time searching for them."

Robbe sighs. “They are a nice window to your life there,” he replies offhandedly, not even registering the implied double meaning to his words, but the immediate change in Sander’s amused expression makes him aware of the slip.

Fuck.

“So you noticed. That I’ve been texting you less.”

Robbe drops his gaze, pulling the cover further up his body, feeling awkward again. He doesn’t want to make a big deal out of this.

Sander shifts on his bed, scratching at his head. “I felt like I was too much, you know? I wanted to share every silly thing with you, but then, well, it was something Josh said that I should,” he waves vaguely trying to find the right words, “cut back on my ‘running commentary’ ‘cause it’s probably annoying.”

“Tell Josh he’s stupid,” Robbe cuts in with a huff, grumpily beating his pillow into submission to make it more comfortable.

The corners of Sander’s mouth twitch at his comment, but his face remains sheepish. “I think he was mostly joking, but it got stuck in my mind and made me question every message. In the end, I didn’t send like half of them,” he explains softly, voice colored with poorly hidden self-consciousness. “I didn’t want to give you the impression I don't have time for you, I’m sorry.”

And, fuck. They’re both idiots.

Sander’s brows shoot up when Robbe bursts into giggles out of the blue, clearly surprised with the reaction. But at this point, it feels like the only proper thing to do.

“So basically we could have avoided this whole bullshit if we just talk about all this sooner,” he groans at the realization, burying half on his face in his pillow to hide his heated face because he’s a little embarrassed he blew things out of proportion.

There’s a visible relief on Sander’s face too, eyes crinkling as he regards him with a dopey grin, and Robbe knows.

They’re gonna be fine.

“Here I thought we were masters of communication,” Sander sighs with a faux-disappointment, leaning back to smile at the ceiling. “Fuck, no more of assuming shit, what do you think?”

And that sounds like something Robbe can get behind one hundred percent, more than ready to leave their misunderstandings in the past and just do better. So he nods, chin digging into his collarbone uncomfortably with the position he’s lying in, but it doesn’t matter, he’s too preoccupied with staring at his happy face and swimming in his fuzzy feelings.

“Prepare yourself for an onslaught of photos and messages, I’m not messing around,” Sander warns, smiling at Robbe’s soft okay. “You know, just a few days ago I ended up at Pebble Beach, it was cold as all fucks, but the view was just,” he imitates an explosion over his head and Robbe giggles at his childlike enthusiasm. Then, Sander’s face softens and becomes a little sad. “That place is so romantic that it made me feel like shit without you there,” he sighs, and Robbe can relate. “I’ll take you there one day.”

“You’re gonna take me to New York?” Robbe asks, doubt lacing his voice as he cocks his brow which makes Sander scoff in indignance.

“Hell yeah! You don’t believe me? What do you think I’m doing here everyday? I’m scouting the best places for dates, finding the best skateparks and checking out all the museums so I can be the perfect guide for you!” Sander throws his hands, a duh expression on his face, but there’s a wide smile brewing on his lips letting Robbe know he’s not really offended or anything. And, honestly, Robbe just melts with his words.

“I can’t wait, baby,” he sighs dreamily, rubbing his cheek against his pillow as he gazes at him with what he’s sure is the softest look.

Sander narrows his eyes playfully from above the can of Redbull he’s been sipping on. “Don’t ever doubt I’m gonna go out of my way to impress you.”

Robbe blows him a kiss that morphs into a huge yawn, eyelids growing heavy, forcing him to blink repeatedly to stay away which prompts Sander to tease him a little about boring him, but it quickly dies out and he’s just looking at him fondly.

“You should go to sleep.” He ignores Robbe’s melodic neeees, giving him a stern look that was probably supposed to be intimidating, but he looks too amused to keep it up. Once Robbe gets his promise they will see each other tomorrow, Sander sends him several virtual kisses and goodnights before logging off.

Robbe falls asleep with Sander’s beaming face flowing through his mind.

The sleep that comes is unsurprisingly the calmest he’s had in weeks.

Sunday, 18:00

Sander: And?

Robbe: And what?

Sander: Was I right?

Robbe: About?

Sander: About your friends

Robbe: Kinda

Sander: So it means I was 😎

Robbe: :):):) yes

Sander: Thank you sander

Robbe: Thank you sander

Sander: See, you're so precious everybody's in love with you and forgive you in seconds

Robbe: 🙄

Robbe: Precious srsly?

Sander: So precious 🥰

Robbe: Omg

Sander: Haha

Robbe: We're good 😊

Robbe: But I don't think they are in love with me 😂

Sander: They better not be 🤨 I'll fight them all! 🗡💀🧟🤺

Robbe: Dork ❤

Robbe: I think they a little bit in love with u though 🤔

Robbe: They've been babbling all afternoon about how cute you are 🙄

Robbe: A g a i n *yawn*

Sander: They have good taste 🤷♂️

Robbe: Nah they just don't know your annoying habits so that's why

Sander: 😮 I don't have any how dare you badmouthing me like that

Robbe: 🥴

Robbe: You never wash your coffee cups right away so they lay around

Robbe: You always tickle me when you want sth

Robbe: You're full of corny jokes

Robbe: You eat my fries when I don't look

Robbe: You hog the covers

Robbe: And I still remember that Wednesday when you ate my last bag of chips 💔

Sander: Okay first of all

Sander: Wow

Sander: Don't hold back 🥺

Sander: Second of all

Sander: I THOUGHT THOSE CHIPS WERE MILAN'S I TOLD YOU!!!

Robbe: That's what they all say 💔

Sander: You're unfair, I thought I made up for that lil mistake 🍆

Robbe: Well you did 🙈 but I still remember 😝

Sander: Also you love my jokes

Sander: They're awesome 🤧

Robbe: I'm just messing around 😘😘

Sander: 🥰

Robbe: But I swear to god if I have to listen one more time to Marie waxing lyricals about your 'perfect moles' I'm gonna 🤮

Sander: What haha 😂

Robbe: I mean they are but like

Robbe: Chill girl he's not your man 🤨

Sander: That's right cause I'm your man 😏

Robbe: And don't you forget that

Thursday, 3:48

Soft knuckles brush his skin, body arching into the touch that turns his muscles into jelly and sends liquid fire rushing through him. He’s overheated in the best way possible, seeking out Sander’s tongue, but the boy denies him access, smirk well in place as he pulls back, green eyes cloudy from lust. He’s staring at him like he wants to eat him whole and Robbe almost whimpers, bones melting and lids closing when Sander takes the tender flesh of his neck between his teeth and bites at it ever so gently, but just enough to make Robbe see stars.

He sighs as he feels a ghost of touch on his nipple, Sander leaving a trail of kisses down his sternum as he’s moving so teasingly slow to his final destination, and he doesn’t even hesitate, spreading his legs wider around Sander’s hips in a blatant invitation, blushing hot pink when Sander sends him a fox-like grin, mouthing at his inner thigh.

The details get fuzzy for a few seconds, Robbe blinking rapidly to get his surroundings and finding himself on top of Sander, and there’s an inkling at the back of his brain telling him something’s messed up about the logistics here. He decides to ignore it, focusing back on the moment and Sander’s glistening, kiss-swollen lips, on his eyes transfixed on the place where they’re connected, and he leans down, his tongue sweeping over his Sander’s bottom lip before he starts pressing soft, spit-slick kisses into his mouth. He pushes Sander’s hands up over his head and intertwines their fingers, arching his back as he takes over, the rush of pleasure almost overwhelming him.

“Ohmygod, Sander,” Robbe breathes into his mouth. His hands are trailing all over Sander’s chest and stomach now, squeezing and rubbing almost like he’s his personal plaything.

It’s not long before Sander’s warm hands draw him back towards his chest, lips ghosting along Robbe’s, teasing, always teasing, but not granting permission to properly meet, making Robbe impatient and whine in desperation only for Sander to grin wickedly at him. He feels nails dragging along his spine, leaving goosebumps in their wake, stopping at his cheeks, massaging them to his heart content while Robbe can only pant, rocking back and forth and biting his bottom lip to keep from coming.

He’s an oversensitive, blissed out mess, trying to keep his eyes open to take a mental snapshot of Sander’s lust-blown pupils as they watch each other, Sander fucking him slowly and punching the prettiest sounds out of Robbe’s mouth.

Hips stuttering, he drops back down on his elbows to crash his lips against Sander’s, feeling his body tensing he’s so close and-

Eyes shot wide open, blinking harshly against the darkness of the room. His first instinct is to reach out to the other side of the bed, snuggle closer to the source of heat lying next to him, but his brain catches up with his hands quickly and he stops himself mid-reach, groaning as he flops back on the bed, disappointed. He kicks his covers down grumpily, letting cold air hit his overheated skin, frustrated and too awake to go to sleep now.

Fuck.

Thursday, 13:08

*photo attached*

Sander: Good morning x

Robbe: Heeyy sleepyhead 😘

Robbe: You look cute

Sander: I had very interesting dreams last night

Robbe: Oh yeah?

Sander: Yeah I'm still affected by them 😏

Robbe: Stop it I'm at a coffee shop with the guys!

Sander: I'll have to tell you about it tonight then 😈

Robbe: Can't wait 😘

Sander: Today at 16 my time right?

Robbe: Yep :)

Robbe: You know

Sander: Hmm?

Robbe: I might have some of those dreams too last night

Sander: 🥵🥵🥵

Sander: Do tell

Robbe: 🙈

Sander: Now I’m super intrigued 😈

Robbe: How about I tell you tonight

Robbe: With details

Robbe: Lots of them

Sander: Tonight can't come fast enough 😩

Sander: Looks like I will though 😏

Robbe: Omg you're such a dork 😂

Sander: Did it get u hot

Robbe: No wtf 😂

Sander: ☹🥺

Sander: Kay

Sander: I have to get up now

Sander: I'm late 🙄

Sander: Robin it's raining I don't wanna go out 😩

Robbe: Haha get your pretty ass out of bed and go be a good student!

Sander: Ugh fine 🙄

Sander: I love you ❤

Robbe: ❤

Sander: Hey no, not an emoji, tell me you love me ☹

Robbe: Haha

Sander: Come on

Robbe: 🤐

Sander: Robbe

Robbe: Gotta go 😌

Sander: Okay then 😔💔

Robbe: I love you too idiot ❤❤❤💯

Sander: Yesss 🥰

Sander: Hey that's my emoji 😏 so you like it after all

Robbe: 😂 go to class!!!

Sander: I'm going I'm going

Friday, 19:00

Robbe checks his phone for time again, not wanting to be late for his call with Sander, but there’s still about half an hour until he should get going. It’s been a pleasant evening and a while ago he would have never called any time of the day spent with his father ‘pleasant’, but there he is. Enjoying his dinner not only with him but also with his girlfriend of six months that he met in July when the first attempts to salvage the relationship with his dad have been made.

And it’s all because of Sander. The fact that he’s even here speaks volumes about his skill of persuasion. If it hadn’t been for his boyfriend, Robbe would have continued to stew in his own juices and ignored his dad.

“How is Sander doing? New York is a jungle.”

Robbe huffs a laugh. “He’s good, he fits in well in the city vibe. But, um, he needs to stay a bit longer, till February actually ‘cause the school postponed the art show.”

He goes for another bite, frown on his face at the mere reminder of the change of plans.

“You probably hate it, huh?” his father questions.

His only response is to throw him a duuuh look, making his dad snort.

“You should visit him.”

Robbe looks up from over his spaghetti, expecting to see his dad laughing or winking at him, but both him and Margaux are looking at him with unsuspecting smiles, like the suggestion is the most obvious thing in the world.

He exhales a short dad in a laugh, glancing at them back and forth. “I don’t have a spare several thousand euros lying around waiting to be spent on a trip to New York,” he explains, slight exasperation in his voice.

“Oh I don’t think you’d need that much, Robbe,” Margaux smiles at him as she puts away her fork and reaches for her phone. “A few months ago I was actually backpacking with my friend through the East Coast and, wait, let me check, I have everything saved on my AirBnB account.”

Robbe gets back to his dinner as she scrolls on her phone, trying to squish the building hope in his chest away because even if it’s cheaper than he thinks, there’s still no way he can afford it; his equipment and books for school have eaten all of his savings.

“There it is! Look,” she scoots her chair closer to him, his dad peeking at the phone from the other side. “We stayed in Brooklyn for 98$ a day for a double bed, in Bedford to be exact and the conditions were really nice, plus the train station was close by. I’m sure you could find something half as cheap since it’s just you and the room can be tiny, just to sleep really.”

“That’s a reasonable price, I think,” his dad joins in, and then proceeds to ask her questions about her other expenditures while in the city and the flight prices, debating whether it’s better to drive to Frankfurt and take a direct flight from there or maybe decide on a layover flight from Brussels.

They are so into the planning and discussing the best options that they both jump slightly when Robbe speaks again, clearly forgetting he’s sitting right next to them, a picture of confusion.

“Guys, guys, wait. It doesn’t matter if it’s 1500 euros, or even 1000 euros because that’s still a 1000 euros more than I have to spend on a trip anywhere.”

His dad is so enthralled into checking different flights that he barely raises his head from above his phone, replying offhandedly, “I’ll pay for it.”

And, okay, no. Robbe gapes at him like he grew two heads, spluttering, because hell no.

“No way, I won’t take your money, dad.”

His vehement tone finally makes his father properly regard him and he sighs after a second. “Robbe, please don’t treat it as an attempt to buy you or your feelings.”

Straight to the point, his dad, always has been. It definitely is one the reasons for his refusal, but it’s not only that.

Robbe takes a deep breath to calm down. “Look, dad, it’s still lots of money. I can’t-”

“I’m many things, but irresponsible with money I’m definitely not. So if I say that I can pay for it, it means that I can afford it and it won’t affect me.” He gives him a pointed look. Before Robbe can argue again, he continues. “We can treat it as your Christmas gift. And next year’s birthday gift. And last two Christmases gifts as well.”

Robbe thinks about the packages he received from his father those holidays, and how he sent them back without even opening. Then, it definitely felt like buying his affection.

“You’ve been doing good at school, got into the university you wanted, you’ve been more responsible those last few years that I could’ve ever asked from you. Then you worked during the summer because you were adamant about paying for school stuff yourself. I think you earn it, Robbe. If you don’t want to go for other reasons, then that’s fine, but if it’s just about the money, please let me give you this.”

“New York is the kind of place everyone should visit at least one,” Margaux says gently. She has a warm smile that immediately made Robbe like her, despite really trying not to for obvious reasons. “And I think Sander would love for you to come visit too.”

Robbe has been torn before she spoke, but the mention of Sander reminds him of their videocall a while back, Sander telling him about places he was going to show him one day, being his guide and taking him to his favorite spots in the city. He can see it all vividly now when the opportunity is at his fingertips, can’t stop the excitement filling his body at the thought of seeing Sander before that dreadful February, even though he’s still now sure what to do.

While he’s been lost in his thoughts, trying to come to some conclusion, Margaux has been typing away at her phone. “Dates around Christmas are very expensive, but what would you say about, let’s say, December 8th? Til December 17th?”

Robbe wouldn’t even consider Christmas because there’s no way he would leave his mom alone for the holidays, but… the dates Margaux offered seem kinda perfect. His main project is due on December 4th so he wouldn’t have to worry about that and it’d be fine if he missed classes for those several days. Completely unaware, he finds himself making plans in his head before he even made a decision to accept his father’s money, but when his eyes snap to his dad’s, the small smile he gives him lets him know he already knows Robbe’s answer.

December 7th, 22:00

His excitement has been uncontainable the entire day, making him so giddy he had to cancel his regular call with Sander because his boyfriend would figure him out in seconds. And that’s the last thing he wants.

He’s still in shock that he somehow managed to keep it from him, planning a surprise in his head ever since he agreed to his dad’s help and working extra hard at uni to afford missing those 8 days of school. There’s apparently been one close call when Younes almost spilled the beans to Sander during their Zoom, but thank god for Yasmina who managed to effortlessly salvage the secret, improvising and coming up with an easy lie, leaving him unsuspicious of any ploy going on.

And Robbe just. He just can’t wait. He’s been counting hours since last week, his lips yearning to be kissed by his favorite person, body pining for touch and caress.

Lost in the dreams of their reunion, Robbe’s startled by a ping from his phone, lips stretching in a wide smile when he sees a notification from Sander’s instagram. He opens it, curious, melting when he’s greeted with a graffiti sign saying ENKEL LIEFDE, Sander’s style easily recognizable to him. Underneath, there’s a heart and his own handle and that shit never fails to make Robbe heart stutter. There’s a DM from Sander waiting for him as well, the same photo, but Sander’s caption says The High Line needed its own version of my love declaration for you, but unfortunately I couldn’t find enough space for a redo of your gorgeous face Robin :( So I did this :) You like it?

He replies with a bunch of red hearts, likes the post and adds another heart in a comment because there’s never too many of those. Then he flops back on his bed, a smile glued to his face.

Nineteen hours.

#wtfock

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comfy-whumpee · 5 years ago

Text

Whumping Safely 101

Many people in this community have mental health problems, face various types of discrimination, and have complicated relationships with some parts or types of whump. In particular, I aim this at people who care about the experience of survivors and others with triggers – partially because I am an abuse survivor who often flirts with triggering content as part of my love of whump.

Keeping your blog safe is difficult, takes effort, and is never a perfect process. But as the community grows and grows, it’s really important that we hold ourselves to a high standard. I would argue that this is a responsibility of all content creators, but especially those of us in the messy playground of whump.

I’ve got three sections in here: content warnings, writing with care, and community interaction. I’ve tried to make it navigable. It’s about 1.8k words. Shorter than a lot of drabbles! I welcome good-faith criticism on this topic and further questions on my own views.

Content Warnings

The biggest responsibility, in my opinion, is empowering your reader to make their own decision on whether they want to expose themselves to your writing. This also happens to be by far the easiest way to help people whump safely.

What to warn

This is a big and ever-changing topic. Some things you should warn for as a rule of thumb are anything NSFW, pet whump and box boy whump, drugs and alcohol, medical and hospital content, graphic gore, intimate partner violence, and animal harm. It can be tricky to draw the line of what counts – what needs a warning? If you’re in doubt, just warn it anyway. It doesn’t hurt.

If someone requests a trigger be warned for, even if it’s something that feels obscure or tame, show compassion and agree to the request. This is someone who cares enough about being able to read your writing that they wrote in! They want to be able to read it and enjoy it. You’re being complimented.

Otherwise, look at what other blogs tag for. You’ll see some variation in styles and levels of detail, but it’s a good way to gauge what people think is warn-worthy, when we’re often writing stuff that would already be R-rated in mainstream media.

The easiest way to make sure people don’t see your triggering content is to use a cut. Tumblr is not a very functional website and likes to delete cuts, but a cursory check of your posted content will usually tell you whether it’s worked. With asks, cuts are very spotty, so don’t be afraid to post an ask response separately with a screengrab of the original question. People often then respond to the ask itself with a link to the post, especially if it’s a whole drabble. Tumblr is weird and bad so just do your best.

Content notices

I.e., a quick summary before the drabble, usually in bold, to state what will be coming. I like to distinguish between using content notes (CN) and trigger warnings (TW) to indicate severity. Others might use the old phrase ‘dead dove do not eat’ to indicate this is a heavy piece, and often you will see qualifiers like ‘intense’, ‘mild’, ‘mention’, ‘referenced’ (i.e. it is discussed but not actively happening), and ‘implied’ (as the opposite of ‘explicit’). I’ve also seen a couple of people use ‘vibes’, which is a really nice way of demonstrating that it’s there, but not the focus. A quick paragraph like this, or just a line, lets people make a quick risk assessment on their reading.

This is also important if you’re sending in asks or requests to people. If you want to ask about something triggering, send an inquiry first about whether the blog is okay to hear it.

Tagging

Tagging is a chore, but it’s your primary way of warning people about your content. The main benefit of tagging is that you can be as detailed as you want, because can be tagging for content in general, not just triggers.

In a best case scenario, you’d tag the kind of whump you’re doing, tag triggers, tag characters, and even your ‘verses, because tagging is your index for your blog. If you tag reliably, you help your future self and your readers find stuff, and you also make your blog really dang safe. People who have unusual triggers can blacklist tags, and will pick up on your content tags to help them.

Don’t just tag your own writing. Tag your reblogs, tag your prompts, tag your asks. Yes, edit your asks to add the tags. Tag your images and gifs. Tag your images as images and your gifs as gifs.

If you aren’t up for detailed tagging for whatever reason, just tag for triggering content, and add stuff to that list if you’re asked to. My usual technique is to make a mental note of tags while I’m formatting and editing before posting.

Be aware that your first five tags will be used in search results. If you’re using tags that are associated with kink too, such as ‘shibari’, you might want to rethink your tag order if you don’t want interaction from those blogs. Also think about what tags might come up in non-whump contexts, such as ‘collar’ or ‘PTSD’. Some tactics for getting around this I’ve seen are adding ‘whump’ after the content or writing the tags in past tense (i.e., ‘collared’).

It is also a good idea to watch out for when you might be reblogging something whumpy that is intended as kink / porn / fetish, especially in images. Tagging these as spicy / nsfw / kink is a sensible move.

Writing with Care

Okay, now for the harder stuff.

I mean here to lay out some guidelines for how to write in a way that helps your reader build good faith. This is a much more nuanced topic, and it’s different for everyone. There will always be differing opinions on what should and shouldn’t be written about, what a good depiction of a sensitive topic is, and how to discuss that topic. I tried to strip this back into absolute basics that I hope we can all agree on.

Maybe your whump involves abuse. Maybe it’s gaslighting. Maybe it’s severe mental health problems, or addiction, or slavery, or you write about or analogise real-world issues. Whump deals with the dark stuff, and that’s a big part of its appeal. But don’t ever forget you’re writing the dark stuff.

(Try to) Know what you’re doing

Some of us play fast and loose with plots, medical accuracy, worldbuilding, and other things that get in the way of the pain we crave. This is all well and good, but when we start using whump that speaks true to people’s lived experiences, we shouldn’t be careless with it. I’m particularly talking about things that get represented poorly in mainstream media, such as abusive relationships, issues around marginalisation, mental illness and disability.

Be critical of media that you’ve consumed. Think about how its depicted things that you want to depict in turn. Look for opinions on fictional representations of those issues. Be aware that you might be more ignorant of things than you realise.

Look at how others are writing these issues, particularly if they’re writing from a perspective different to yours. If you haven’t personally experienced what you’re writing about, e.g., if you don’t have PTSD and you want to depict a character who does, seek out stuff written from or with experience. Listen to the experts.

If you’re looking for stuff about representation specifically, I recommend this collection of posts about ‘Braving Diversity’ cultivated by Writing With Colour, who are in themselves a fantastic resource for this topic, and have recommendations for other blogs that deal with intersecting issues.

Listen to others

Missteps are inevitable. Nobody is perfect. If constructive criticism is offered, that’s also a compliment to your writing. Someone read your work and thought about it, and thought you’d care about improving it. They’re offering themselves as a resource for helping you see your work in a new light.

Criticism is hard and sometimes hurtful, but even if we don’t think it’s accurate, there’s often a grain of truth in it. If someone tells you that your writing is harmful, think about why they’ve said that, not whether or not they’re correct. This is an opinion! Opinions are subjective! But what drove someone to send that in?

You don’t have to respond to all your criticism and definitely don’t respond straight away. Being respectful to those who are trying to help you means taking the time to consider it properly. Sometimes, they don’t need a response. Others, you might want to learn more about what they think before deciding. You might have already discussed the topic, in which case, you might just want to reblog your previous posts.

If it’s sent in bad faith or is outright hateful, you’re well within your rights to just delete it and move on. You might get the same criticism over and over again, and that’s exhausting, and you don’t have to retrace your steps for everyone.

But if it’s new, even if it puts your hackles up, you can always stop and wonder why someone felt that strongly about your work.

Take a step back

One of my better-known characters is a pet whumper who conditioned his victim to adore and depend on him. It’s not always easy to represent how deeply messed up that is within the text – though I think that’s part of the challenge – but in meta-commentary, I am always describing him as a creeptastic bastard lacking compassion and self-reflection. I hope to always give the reader the confidence that I know just how wrong it is.

This is a really simple thing you can do just to give readers good faith in you. Show that you know what you’re writing is dark and messed up. Show your understanding for the issues you’re handling and that they’re complicated. It might seem self-evident, but when you’re writing the really dark stuff, or unhealthy relationships, or institutionalised whump, you can inadvertently create the impression that you just think it’s fun. The fact that it’s fiction does not automatically absolve you. Show that you care about doing it right.

Community Interaction

I’m going to keep this one short and sweet because I will almost entirely be preaching to the choir here.

Be polite to others. Imagine saying what you’re saying to their face.

Don’t send anon hate. Just don’t. If you can send criticism off anon, do so.

Nobody is obligated to interact with you.

Nobody is obligated to monitor their own reader base.

If someone says do not interact, do not interact.

If someone says do not interact, why they’ve said that is none of your business.

You don’t need to spread the word about someone’s bad politics.

Ask yourself if your input is needed, or if what you’ve said has already been said.

You don’t have to take a side.

Take care of yourself. Take breaks. Remind yourself that whump is a small part of the world.

That’s all from me, folks. Stay safe.

#discourse...adjacent?#whump community #whump etiquette

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nade2308 · 4 years ago

Note

For the Drabble thingy

5 Bruised - Jack Dalton

No pressure though

I think Nade and the concept of a drabble aren't on the same planet. I finished the thing. Hope you like this @starryhc. As for the inspiration for this story, awhile back I saw a post on Tumblr where there was a deleted scene from the 1x01 script where Jack worked as a stunt double on a movie set and we are blaming this fic on my dream brain requesting this as the reason for the bruises. Hope it's what you had in mind when you asked, Starry . The "drabble" is under the cut.

Jack let his kid take his fill by looking him up and down. Jack knew that he looked a little bit worse for wear, but that was normal in their line of work. This time however, it was from something else. And judging by the way Mac was eyeing him, he didn't manage to hide it well.

(Next time, I'm asking for Boze and his special make up).

It had been two months since they saw each other last. And Jack didn't know how he went two months without contact. But it was what Mac asked of him. Some time to rest and reflect. And Jack had so many objections to that... but he swallowed them and agreed. What else there was to be done? His kid needed time, and contrary to popular opinion, Jack wasn't going to push and hover. He knew when to back down when he wasn't needed.

The ugly doubts reared their heads as soon as they touched down in the States, though. Why was Mac asking for some time to himself? He never did before, why now? Mac was also never been shot within an inch of his life and his girlfriend was killed in the same night so Jack reasoned with that. He knew about people and having to start over when they had a brush with death and some decisions they made in the aftermath of their near-death experience. Jack just learned to deal with it. As always. When Mac called him out of the blue at 1am and asked if he could come over, Jack was ecstatic to say in the least. He didn't even stop to think of the reason. Maybe Mac wasn't still coming back from his reflection phase and it was just something he needed Jack to do.

Whatever it was, in hindsight he should have realized that Mac would notice. And he did.

"Jack. What happened?"

"Eh, it's nothing. Just... perks of the job is all."

Jack tried for a smile, but it fell flat.

"What job? Jack, were you in the field without me?"

The question slammed like a freight train into Jack and he had to actually grab something to steady himself, which turned out to be Mac's forearm.

"Whoa, Jack, easy there."

The grip he had on Mac was strong and through the fog in his head Jack was thinking how it'd leave a bruise, the kid bruised so easily he was always having these small bruises from banging himself on doorknobs and table edges. But now these bruises were going to be from Jack, because Jack wasn't able to keep himself steady another way, and that was when Mac appeared in his line of sight and Jack realized he wasn't breathing right.

"Jack, you've got to breathe. Just, follow my lead, okay?"

Jack tried to nod, but he couldn't, he was so far gone in the panic that all he could do was squeeze Mac's arm harder. He couldn't move, he couldn't breathe, the phantom pain at the back of his head, the nasty concussion it left in its wake.

He watched as Mac winced when he took a deep breath and suddenly Jack wasn't in his apartment, but at the edge of the lake, performing CPR on his partner, oh God, it's so cold...

...

When Jack next came to, he was lying on his couch. He had no idea how he got there, but he realized Mac's thigh was under his head and he jumped with a startle. Then promptly fell back to the softness of his partner's body because his body seized in pain. The actor on that set that insisted on doing his own stunts did a number on him. His bruises had bruises.

And judging by the way he stilled and didn't breathe for a few seconds, and Mac's gasp, Mac definitely noticed.

"I'm going to assume that that did not come from a mission."

"You know I'm off rota until you are back to the field, hoss. I ain't goin' out there unless it's with you. We had a deal, remember?"

"I'm sorry. Sorry I shut you out."

"It's okay. You needed time. I get it."

"I shouldn't have."

"No hard feelings."

"I feel like you are hurt because I wasn't there to stop you from doing whatever reckless thing you did. Jack."

"I was a stunt double on a movie set. Thank God tonight was the final scene and now I can rest."

Jack groaned and any other time he'd be embarrassed that he buried his head in Mac's thigh to hide, but he was tired, hurting and if his mind wasn't playing tricks on him, he had a panic attack, which in his books was definitely something to warrant that kind of behavior.

Besides, Mac could always kick him if he didn't want that.

"Where are you hurt?" Mac's small voice asked and Jack wanted to deflect, but he could detect the hint of worry in the kid's voice so he decided to be honest.

"Where am I not hurt is the question you should be asking. That little punk ass kid that insists on filming his own stunts that we worked with did a number on me. I think I even have a bruise on my butt, dude."

Mac chuckled above him and Jack fist pumped on the inside. He was carefully maneuvered into a sitting position next and - yep, that was definitely a big bruise on his butt.

"Let me see?"

Mac was asking him to see the bruises, that much was clear. And his voice brooked no arguments so Jack took off his t-shirt and realized just how stiff his shoulders were.

God, I am getting old.

Jack let Mac take his fill, he didn't have to see the way he looked to know he suffered a beating. He felt every bruise and every pull on the skin. If he was being honest... it kinda felt like he got what he deserved after what he let happen to Mac and Nikki in Italy. Finding Mac floating in lake Como was one of his worst nightmares come true.

Cold fingers touched his skin and he recoiled, before he realized it was Mac and then he forced himself to relax. Mac needed to make sure that he was okay, and Jack was going to let him.

"Jesus, Jack, this is a beating, not a stunt."

"You should see the other guy."

"Jack."

"It's okay, Mac. I've had worse."

"It doesn't make this hurt any less. C'mon, let's get you to bed. I'll get you some ice."

Jack wanted to protest, how he was going to take care of himself on his own, but Mac needed to see to it that Jack was going to be okay and Jack was going to let him.

"Okay."

Mac, true to his word, settled him into bed and brought ice packs that he MacGyvered into sticking around so as to none of them should hold them in the hurt places. Jack groaned as the cold from the ice seeped into the bruises, but after a while it became a background sensation and he relaxed.

"Thanks, Mac."

"Don't mention it."

They sat in silence for a few moments but Jack needed to know.

"Mac, why are you here? Not that I don't want you here, I'm more than happy to have you here."

"I realized that I was hurting myself and you by keeping a distance. I was caught in the anger and grief about what happened with Nikki and me... being shot. On your watch. I realized that you are pretty much beating yourself up over what happened and decided to stop some of that train of that.

"What I didn't anticipate is you literally beating yourself up. Now that's some quality punishment for things you are not guilty of."

Jack didn't dare look up at Mac, it was enough that Mac knew what Jack was doing.

Talk about self destruction... him and Mac had a lot in common in that department.

"It wasn't your fault. I should have said that before."

"It's-"

"God help me if you say "it's okay". It's not, Jack. I pushed you away. It was as if I was telling you that you pulled the trigger."

Jack winced. Was this kid going to expose all his inner thoughts tonight?

"Sorry, that didn't come out right. Listen, Jack, I'm sorry. It wasn't okay that I pushed you away. It shouldn't be okay that you accept the guilt so easily. You were hurt, too. Remember?"

Jack nodded.

"I'm sorry, too."

They were both dealing with a loss of a friend (lover in Mac's case) and what happened in Italy in different ways. But it looked like they weren't going to do it each by themselves after tonight.

"Can I stay?"

Jack was brought out of his musings and looked at Mac. Really looked at him. The kid looked pale, his cheeks gaunt and he was clutching his left shoulder.

"Huh?"

"Can I stay? I'm... My shoulder is hurting and I have some of my things here so... well I should probably text Bozer and tell him I'm-"

"Of course you can stay."

"Great, uh... let me just go and grab my phone, I left it on the table. And I'll take these now."

Jack shuddered as Mac removed the ice packs, now melted.

"I'll get you a shirt."

A moment later Mac left a shirt on the bed as he went to presumably text Bozer. And Jack smiled when he saw it was one of his old Army t-shirts, loose and comfy. Jack changed into a loose pair of sweatpants and got under the covers, careful not to press too much on the worst bruises. He was going to be sore in the morning.

Mac re-entered Jack's room and Jack could tell he wanted to say something, but was kinda frozen in the middle of the room.

He raised the covers and tapped on the other half of the bed.

"C'mere, hoss. Let's get some sleep."

"I can... I can sleep in the guest room? I could roll over and hurt you, you know how I can get."

"Nonsense. Come in here."

"Okay."

"I think we both need this, so it's a win-win situation."

Mac smiled and as he settled in, he gravitated towards Jack that pulled him to his side.

"I'm so sorry I worried you earlier." Jack could feel the tears prickle at the corners of his eyes.

"It's okay, Jack. I'm just glad I was around."

Jack nodded in agreement and closed his eyes. They could deal with everything else in the morning. He was wiped.

"Good night, Mac."

"Good night, Jack."

#100 drabble challenge #drabble #writing #my writing #my fic #fan fic #prompt number 5 #bruises #tw: panic attack #1x01 filler #jack dalton #angus macgyver #macgyver #macgyver 2016

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thedreadvampy · 4 years ago

Note

this is kind of a Hot Take (and rlly long) so don't feel pressured to post this

also no one cancel thedreadvampy over posting this ask if she does these are my beliefs and not necessarily hers kthx

I'm honestly really uncertain why people are so militant about aphobia on this site. like obviously aphobes are Not Nice People and it's good to be against their shitty beliefs. But I've been on this site for ~5 years and I have never, in my memory, seen an aphobe (with the few exception of like. literal nazis but their main label isn't aphobe). I have seen a lot of people who were then harassed/cancelled being called aphobes in addition to a lot of other things like (homophobic, racist, abusive, etc) but as far as I bothered to figure out, the label of aphobe came from one specific phrase they used or one post they reblogged (though I can't be bothered to Deep Research so I genuinely don't know on this one).

(I have seen casual acephobia in my own personal life. however, that is not Tumblr.)

I have seen scores of posts along the lines of "aphobes are bad" "aphobes dni" etc etc.

Maybe it's just who I follow, but it seems like there's a lot more anti-aphobe sentiment than aphobes. Which is good! It's the goal! However, I think it's possible that that anti-aphobe sentiment has not become "look how few aphobes there are! yay!" it's "there are hidden aphobes all around us and you have to interrogate everyone to know who to ostracize"

You're a fairly popular figure in the mechs/tma fandoms and the thing about Tumblr is that it hates popular figures. And more than that, you're visible, so a) people will see if you answer a bunch of questions about ace things, and b) you exist in everyone's brains more than little blogs.

to be clear. to be absolutely crystal 100% clear: I am not saying that people got together and went "let's interrogate all the popular blogs so we can pretend theyre acephobic and have fun bullying people," I'm saying it's possible that what was once a positive emotion, "we don't tolerate intolerant people" has possibly, in some people, morphed into a fear that intolerant people are hiding all around them. And frankly, that fear can be understandable (not right, not kind, but understandable), especially if they face hate irl and their only outlet for emotion is tumblr. shit, Tumblr is one of my emotional outlets.

I don't think it's bad to engage with these people in good faith, or to answer questions, but I think it's possible that some of them are coming from the "intolerant people are hiding all around us and must be ferreted out" kind of perspective instead of a "hey I wanna check that this person isn't an intolerant asshole before following/supporting them" or "I want to engage with a person who may be ignorant" (I'm not attempting to imply that you're ignorant). Im not saying "not answer their questions" this is just, like, my opinion. I'm not making a lot of actionable statements here.

that's my whole Hot Take, hopefully I made some kind of sense, I just honestly feel kind of mad on your behalf that you have to go thru an interrogation to be Not Tumblr Cancelled. If people were generally having a nuanced discussion then that would be fine but you've already stated several times that ace/aspec people are valid and deserve love and respect etc etc. which as an aspec person makes me feel that your blog is safe for me, and I don't feel the need to play 20 Questions Are You Sure You Aren't An Aphobe

I don't know how much of this I entirely agree with and I refuse to think

(not about this. just in general. today I refuse to think)

my main response to this is:

a) I think my confusion is I have less than 1500 followers I think I always assumed the You Are Now A Public Figure People Have Opinions On mark had to be higher than that but this appears to have been a totally incorrect assumption

b) I don't feel like. a threat of Cancellation except inasmuch as I don't want Kofi to eventually get any kind of kickback if I turn out to be or people understand me to be a shitty person. I didn't ask for a platform or do anything to deserve it, if I get distressed it's largely just that I don't want to be a shitty person! and I have a whole thing about. I don't ever feel secure in my ability to say I'm NOT being shitty so like if enough people start saying AH RUTH THEDREADVAMPY IS A GARBAGE PERSON I definitely do stay wondering if they're right even if I think my position is morally defensible. like I'm very easy to get into a spiral of I think that's highly defensible but maybe I'm just in denial/trying to cover my ass/self-justifying so I can avoid accountability/etc. like this is a thing and it's why I'm very uncomfortable with absolutism, a lot of my family in my experience have a phenomenal capacity for denial and for rewriting reality into something they Fully Believe despite all the evidence, and so I'm really conscious of the possibility that I'm doing that and I wouldn't. know about it. it's a really really powerful subconscious force and that's been like. a big fear point for me my whole life. that I could be being a cunt and be obviously being a cunt and be so deep in denial that it just doesn't register at all. this is like. the thing I fear most. So I DO want people to tell me if I'm being a dick because the only way I can 100% know I'm not just in denial is if I can trust people to call me in, but I really, really, really struggle with when people say I'm being a dick and I disagree, not because they're harassing me necessarily but just because it really sends me into a spiral of doubting my own ability to be sure about like, anything. at all. it's a whole unreality thing which is, uh, it's MINE to deal with, it's not something I would want to put on other people, but it very much does affect my responses and I didn't mean to write this but hey, no therapy last week and it shows.

oh also c) on reflection I don't agree that there's very little aphobia on Tumblr (although as I've said I'm not ace or aro so my opinion should hold little weight) but I do think that there's a lack of give and take, not just in aphobia stuff but also in general, in these kinds of conversations, like sometimes yeah people are actively hateful but I don't think there's any room for misunderstanding, poor phrasing, or questioning, and I understand that that's coming from a really genuine place of pain and devaluation of aro/ace experiences but I also think people jump straight to assuming active malice very fast, and often explicitly consider "actively not stating an opinion" to be an offence on the level of "actively staying a harmful opinion," which I think is unhelpful. like. we learn by listening, there are times in my life where I would have been lying at the time to agree unconditionally with something like "I think we should believe survivors" (I was a 2000s teen who hung out with 4channers) but I also was conscious of the harm that it would do to publicly debate from the perspective that No We Shouldn't Believe Survivors, so you know I waited and I listened and I thought about it and ultimately I came to a position I could say with my chest. but like. The online social more that you Have to have an opinion and I Have to hear it to prove that you have the Right opinion is. uncomfortable to me to say the least. I don't think it gives you much room to learn and improve, especially given that everything on the internet is permanent and often treated as if it forever reflects your current beliefs. like I have changed my opinions So Much since I was 16 and if someone went back through a tag on my blog to Prove My Bad Opinions they could paint pretty much any picture they wanted with 12 years of changing opinions.

anyway yeah like. no I don't fully agree with this ask but I appreciate the alternate perspective. I also did not mean to write another wall of text I'm just very much In A Brain Hole today and sometimes words Just Happen.

#i don't want this to pop up in Discourse tags that will double ruin my brain off scrolling experience #but i do want people to be able to filter this stuff out #I'm gonna go wiiiiiiith #thedreadvampy adiscourse #so I'll try to tag everything surrounding the question of aphobia and me with that #no gonnae tag my general depression posting with it though that's just What This Blog Exists For

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orions-nebula · 5 years ago

Text

I’m Ready Now (1) Steve Rogers x Reader.

Summary: You don’t remember when you started falling in love with Steve. What you do know is that with each year that passed by you fell even more in love with him. Despite the years of friendship and special nights spent together, there were constant mixed signal tossed left and right which made you doubt. One day everything changes and you find yourself going through a major life altering moment.

Warnings: Curse words, mentions of panic attacks & anxiety nothing too bad, maybe a bit of fluff? Word count: 2,837

Here’s the Prologue, if you would like to read it. :)

IMPORTANT A/N: Hey you guys, I just wanted to let you that Tumblr is not posting my content under the tags. I learned that many people are having the same problem. I tagged you here if you like the prologue that I posted. I hope you guys do not mind me tagging you, but if you do have an issue with this please let me know and I will remove you from the tags.

I would also GREATLY appreciate it if you guys re-blogged my story since it will be the only way I can get it out there until Tumblr fixes the problem with the tags, but if you don’t want to, you don’t have to you have to. :) Fingers crossed so that this all clears out soon!!! Regardless, I hope you enjoy Part 1.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- You’ve been pinning over him for a while now. How could you not? You fell in love with the man who hid behind a mask of confidence in hopes of hiding the uncertainty, the loss of love, the anger, rancor, and bitterness of what the world had done to him.

Yet, it wasn’t always like that. Not in the beginning.

You had just been officially cleared by Fury to become an Avenger. You had passed all your educational, psychological, physical, and combat tests with flying colors. You worked hard for it, training every day and every night. In one way or another. Expanding your mind and body to become the best version of yourself. At the end it paid off, you were the only agent out of the hundreds that had signed up for the same position. A position in the Avengers team.

It had been your second month at the Tower as an Avenger when Steve Rogers came back from his three-month-long mission. It was the following day when you were introduced to him. He whispered a simple hello and kept to himself. Which you didn’t take personally. To be honest you didn’t care. Everyone was wrapped around his little finer, fawning over him like he was an ethereal being. Just seeing how everyone practically worshiped the floor he walked on made you feel mad. It was the same floor you walked on and so did everyone else! He got so much special treatment and attention it was ridiculous, which annoyed you to no end.

Why did he get special treatment? Was it because he was 'Captain America?' All the women practically threw themselves at him and for what? Just because he was deemed good looking and ‘hot’? What made him so special? Was it the fact that he’s a super solider and saved the world multiple times? Because Black Widow didn’t have any powers, neither did Hawkeye or the Falcon and they also saved the world many times. Or is it because people feel respect or maybe it was pity? Who knows, you certainly didn’t know. It wasn’t until the eight-month, after you met Steve, that something changed. It’s as if there was a switch that had been turned on which caused Steve to act friendlier towards you. And for some reason that had a minor effect on you.

It was your day off when you decided to visit the tower. Even though you had your own living space at the Compound you chose to live out in the city, in a nice upper Manhattan apartment. You just wanted some control over your own life, away from the superhero life.

It had been about a week since you last saw the gang, since you hadn’t been called in for any missions. On the eight day of your “mini-vacation” you decided to visit everyone.

As you drove to the Compound you smiled to yourself. You felt excited to see your friends, more like family. You were thankful that you got along with everyone. You had fit in perfectly and everyone loved you. How could they not? You were sweet, caring, silly, thoughtful, and always willing to help.

Steve for some reason was very reserved around you. He didn’t talk to you or joked around with you the way he did with the rest of the team. The most interaction you two shared were simple nods and quiet hellos.

Tony, however, adored you. You were one of the very few that was able to put up with. On the contrary, you sometimes encouraged him to be sillier and crazier, which he loved, because he knew that he could be his true self around you, and if he ever took it too far you would let him know. Most importantly you were there for him whenever he had a panic attack or when his anxiety spiked.

The closer you got to the compound the faster your fingers drummed against the steering wheel.

Your mind drifted to your favorite girl friend, Natasha, who you quickly saw as an older sister. You hoped to spend some quality time with her.

Natasha was happy to finally have another girl on the team. She and Wanda could only control the boys so much. Plus, having another girl made girls night more fun.

You smiled in excitement as you finally reached the compound. Once you parked your car in the garage you made your way inside, scanned yourself in and walked to the elevators. After scanning your handprint into the pad you asked Friday to take you to the common room and kitchen that was specifically for the Avengers.

“Of course, Miss (L/N).”

“Thanks Friday.” You said as you stepped out and walked towards the couch.

That’s where you saw Natasha perched on top of the couch sipping on a glass of red wine, watching The Umbrella Academy.

“Hey! I thought we were going to watch the show together! Nat!”

“Eew, what are you doing here?” She faked gagged.

“Wow I see I’m not welcomed, Romanoff.” You smirked.

“It’s nice to know you got my text.”

“I didn’t know you sent a text…”

“No wonder. I had already told everyone you probably wouldn’t make it tonight since you never replied, but I’m glad you were able to make it.” She smiled softly at you.

“I haven’t been on my phone. I’m sorry.” You replied sheepishly.

“Don’t apologize, it’s okay, just figured you were busy with something or maybe someone?” She winked at you as she continued sipping on her wine.

You gasped, ready to explain yourself when Steve popped his head from the kitchen and to your surprise greeted you in a chipper tone.

“Y/N! Hey! What are you doing here? Nat said you weren’t coming tonight.”

“Oh, um yeah, I didn’t realize you guys had something going on. Didn’t check my phone. I was just stopping by to say hello.”

“Well come take a seat. Dinner is almost ready. Sam is cooking tonight.” He smiled at you.

You smiled back at Steve and followed him into the dining room that connected to the kitchen. When you walked in you saw Sam stirring something in a pot.

“Hey Sam.”

“Eeeey (Nickname)! Look who finally decided to show up!”

When he turned around you snorted. He was wearing the most ridiculous apron you had ever seen that read “Kiss the Chef.”

He saw you looking at his apron and wiggled his eyebrows, “Wanna give me a kiss me? Come on, I’ll even let you give me as many kisses as you want.”

You burst out laughing, shaking your head, “you wish Samuel. You wish.” He stuck his tongue out at you and went back to stirring.

Steve turned to you and offered you a seat, pulling the chair out letting you sit and then pushing it back in.

“Thank you, Steve.” You smiled softly at him.

“Of course. Now, what can I get you to drink? Water, wine, some juice?”

“Water is just fine, thank you.”

“Awwwh, look at that! Aren’t you guys just cute?” Tony smirked as he stepped in the kitchen and sat down, looking between you and Steve.

His comment had taken you by surprise, but you just ignored it while Steve rolled his eyes and got you a glass of water.

Tony turned to you and raised an eyebrow. “So sweet cheeks, where you been all week?”

“I’ve been home, cleaning, reading, and um, doing a bit of volunteering.” You looked up to Steve and thanked him as he sat the glass of water in front of you.

“I’m going to round up everyone for dinner,” Steve said as he started walking out of the kitchen.

Tony waved him off and continued eyeing you. “Volunteering? No hot dates? Come on (Y/N), what are you? Eighty?”

“Well Mr. Starky some of us like to spend our free time in different ways. Not all of us need to have wild sex and get drunk to have a good time.”

Tony pursed his lips at your comment, “never call me that again sweet cheeks.” But then he smirked. “Maybe you can take old Rogers with you next time. God knows you both need a date.”

You tried not blushing at his comment, but you definitely couldn’t hold in after the follow-up comment Tony made.

“Now that I think about it, you guys would make a cute couple. Don’t you think so Wilson?”

You interrupted Sam before he could speak, “Okaaay, that’s enough of that.”

You stood up and started setting the table as a distraction, while Sam and Tony kept on making jokes. You didn’t want to admit it but what Tony said made you feel flustered for some unknown reason.

That night, as you drove back to your apartment, your thoughts drifted to what Tony said about Steve and you.

Me and Steve? Ha! I doubt it, I’m probably not even his type. You thought to yourself.

From that night you decided to ignore whatever that was. And you did, you didn’t think about it not, not again until a couple of months later.

Tony had invited you, and Steve to dinner. You were celebrating your first year as an Avenger. You had just placed your drink orders when Tony turned to you.

“I’m sorry sweet cheeks, but I promise you that once everyone gets back, we’ll throw you a big ass party! Something better than tonight.”

Everyone was either on a mission or away for some important event. You knew that Nat, Sam, Wanda, and Vision were away on a mission in Argentina. Clint flew back home to his family when he got an emergency call, apparently his son fell off a tree and broke his leg. Bruce was called to India, where he previously worked before joining the Avengers, to help train some of the doctors and nurses that were interning while giving their time as volunteers. And Thor was off-world.

That left you, Tony, and Steve by yourselves. Tony, not passing up an opportunity to celebrate or spend money, decided to take you out to dinner. He invited Steve along since he was at the Compound as well.

“Are you kidding me? This place is awesome! When I said I wanted sushi I mean from like Sushi Yasaka not freaking Masa!” You quietly, but gratefully, explained.

“Well you deserve the best. As a matter of fact, let’s start planning! What theme would you like it to be? You name it and I’ll pay it.” You laughed at the silly motto Tony came up with.

“It’s okay Tony, you don’t have to throw a big party. I wouldn’t mind if it was just us, the team celebrating. You know, something simple and private?”

“Awwh come on (Nickname)! That’s no fun, live a little.” Tony complained as you shook your head at him.

“Tony,” Steve warned.

“I appreciate it Tony. Like I said, I rather it be just the nine of us. Plus, I wouldn’t want to spend it with anyone else.

Steve looked at you and showed his gratitude, “I know I don’t say it often, but uh, you’re a valuable asset to the team. You brought a new dynamic to the team and you not only have our backs out in the field but in our everyday lives as well. We’re very lucky to have you (Y/N). Thank you for everything.”

“That’s, that’s sweet of you Steve. Thank you.”

“Yeah (Nickname), you know we love you and whatever you want or need, we got you,” Tony said as he gave you a side hug.

“Whatever you need (Y/N).” Steve reiterated as he reached for your hand, giving it a light squeeze.

You smiled at him, looking straight into his eyes, and that was the first time you noticed how clear and blue they were. Full of comfort and admiration. Or maybe it was respect? It made you feel calm, as if you could drown in depths of the calming waters.

After the drinks were brought out and the first appetizers were set down, you all began joking. Sharing all sorts of funny and embarrassing memories. The night progressed with a lot of drinking and pictures being sent to the team from Tony, in hopes of making the others feel jealous of your night out.

The check was brought out and paid for, but not without Steve insisting he and Tony should split. Only to have Tony fire back, “Come on Rogers, I invited so I’m paying. Plus, I’m a multi-billionaire, I like showing off.”

Steve shook his head as you all stood up to head over the valet area. Once you were all inside Tony’s R8, you couldn’t help but express your gratitude.

“Thank you, you guys. Don’t tell the rest of the team, especially Natasha, but I’m happy we got to spend time, just the three us.” It was at that moment Steve turned to look at you and for some reason you got that feeling, again! That queasy feeling.

Why did he keep looking at you like that? And why did it keep making you feel that way? Most importantly, why did he start acknowledging you all of a sudden when just three months ago he practically gave you the cold shoulder?

You probably should have turned away from him but you couldn’t help it, so you just kept staring at Steve. Mesmerized by how beautiful he looked, with the New York lights dancing off those beautiful azure eyes.

No. You thought to yourself, but that was easier said than done.

You guessed it was in that night when you started to see Steve in a different light. His smiles brought you warmth and his laughter made your day brighter, but you knew that he wasn’t showing his true self. His façade he put it to reserve his heart just made you yearn to get to know him.

In truth, you never saw him as Captain America, nor as the perfect image of Freedom that represents all of America. You always saw him as just a man who needed to be in control of everything, but you soon realized that there was more to him. More to him than what people painted him to be. You kept telling yourself that he never opened up to you in the first place, but you also never tried to reach out either.

The more you observed him and hanged out around him, the more you got to learn about him. He didn’t need to tell you anything, but you saw how hard he tried to hide his pain, his struggles, and the PTDS he suffered from.

That’s when you decided you would try to get to know him. The real him that no one knows about. You decided you would do your best to see him smile, just to see him feel the warmth he is so deserving of.

Which how you found yourself asking him if he was alright. “Steve, are you sure? You can trust me you know. I’ll always have your back, just like you said you would for me.”

“I- I don’t, ugh. Sam was supposed to be here, well should have been here, but he called away on a mission. We, uh more like he was helping me look for Bucky. I just got a new trail leading to Bucky and I can’t, I-” Steve exhaled frustratedly.

“Hey. Steve, take a deep breath, it’s okay. We’re talking about Sargent Barnes, right?” Steve simply nodded at your question. “Okay. I’ll help you. Just tell me what you need me to do.” Steve looked up at you with optimism in his eyes.

“Are you sure? I know you had plans today to see your friend, I don’t-”

“Steve, seriously it’s not a problem at all. Bucky is important to you, he’s your family. And we do whatever we can for our family. I’ll just call my friend and let her know I can’t make it today. Give me one second.”

You walked towards the back of the room dialing your friend, while Steve watched you intently. “Hey Karen, I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to make it today. Something important came up.”

Steve felt a slight tug in his chest at hearing your words, something important came up. Important. You were so willing to help him, despite not knowing Bucky, despite him never talking to you about Bucky. You pushed aside your plans and your friend just to help him find his friend.

Had you always been this kind? This caring? How had he missed it?

“Ready?”

“I’m ready. T-thank you.” Steve said, trying not to let his emotions get to him. Finding Bucky meant a lot to him, he was his brother, and here you were doing something that meant a lot to Steve. Here you were ready to help him find his brother.

Steve smiled at you, grabbed you by the hand, and pulled in for a tight hug.

Yup. Easier said than done.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Part 2

A/N: I’m sorry for any mistakes I tried my best to fix any typos and whatnot. I also wanted to let you guys know that I’m working from home, so I will try my very best to update at least every other day and if I can’t then every 2-3 days.

Again, thank you for actually reading my story!

TAGS: @sourpatchspinster @crist1216 @deadlymistress24 @foulfashionstreetstylekitty @elena-chat @vougueworthy-barnes @agirlwhoneedalittlelovingtonight @donner5822 @brokenrogerz @petlaufeyson @marisathewonder @steve-barry-damon-logan @tfandtws @clogger101 @insertwittystatement-here @unapologeticallymimi @strangelycami @jessyballet @miovanci @overpretty @capcapcapsicle @queenie70 @iamwarrenspeace @wisesharkpersonazonk @shannon124 @captainamericathot @lallyj11 @lucyshea @kazumilein @milea @loudmoviesondeanwinchester @darcytown @iheartsebastianstan @supernaturallover2002 @novaya-model @kawairinrin @lovely-geek @ballerinafairyprincess @swatson06 @haley24689 @hobisgenie @jules-1999 @sicparvismagnaxi @okcowboys84 @fisherbrookphotos @myforeveryoungblog @pixievengeance97 @fancyharry @laic2299 @blackcatfamilia @littlechillies @delicioussteverogers @12345nothing42 @goblinshark1e

#steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers reader insert #captain america #captain america x reader #captain america imagine #captain america reader insert #captain rogers #marvel's avengers #marvel steve rogers #marvel #mcu steve rogers

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lady-divine-writes · 5 years ago

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Serendipity (Rated PG13)

Summary: Aziraphale’s best friend Tracy sets him up on a blind date, but the man who shows up isn’t what he expects. (4351 words)

Notes: Written for the @ineffable-valentines prompt ‘perfect date’ and inspired by a post I saw @miraworos reblog on tumblr, which happened to be the exact premise of a story I had written a long time ago for another fandom. So I brushed it off, re-sculpted it, and voila. I hope y'all like it <3 Human au

Read on AO3.

“So … how’re the crepes treating you? Are they everything you dreamed they’d be?”

“Oh my yes! They’re absolute Heaven!”

“They should be. This place is famous for them.”

“Good, because they’re my favorite.”

“I know. That’s why I brought you here. More wine?”

“That depends … are you trying to get me drunk?” Playful blue eyes, twinkling above cheeks darkening from baby pink to dusty rose, meet seductive liquid gold.

Lush lips split into a devilish grin. “Maybe.”

Those blue eyes dip down to those inviting lips and linger there, lost in a daydream of mouths meeting, tongues sweeping, kisses traveling, caressing pale skin … “Well, at least you’re honest about it.”

Wine pours. Glasses clink and the robust red sipped. Fingers snap, and like magic, another bottle of wine appears.

“Now,” the devilish lips ask, “where was I?”

“You heard something in your walls?”

“Oh yes. For days I’m hearing scritch-scritch-scritch, and the pattering of tiny feet on my marble floors morning and night, like little ghosts wearing tap shoes puttering about my flat.”

“Ooo! That’s spooky!”

Subtle shrug. “Don’t bother me. I like spooky. Big spooky fan me. So I look and look. but I can’t find where it’s coming from. And I mean, I look everywhere …”

Aziraphale covers his mouth and giggles, blown away by how drawn in he’s become to this story. Reuben is such a dynamic storyteller. Aziraphale feels like he’s there with him, searching his house for the mysterious scratching that’s plagued him day and night, shivers as his description of them runs its nails delightfully up his spine. For good or bad, Aziraphale is invested now, even though the events of this tale are over and resolved. Reuben pauses his story; chuckles shyly, too; while Aziraphale waits patiently to hear the rest of the saga.

“To make a long story short, I take apart the entire wall unit, and finally I find the culprit – the cutest family of white rats I have ever seen! Momma had made a nest in the insulation and had babies! Five of them! I couldn’t believe it!”

“Oh no!” The tips of a mouth turn down as those shivers make a return trip. “I don’t personally fancy rats. What did you do?”

“The only thing I could do.” Reuben takes a sip of his wine – a 2014 Bogle Petite Sirah. It sounded so scrummy when Reuben ordered it, Aziraphale couldn’t help himself. He had to have a glass, too. And Reuben was not wrong. Its dense blueberry and blackberry flavors compliment the crepes exquisitely. The alcohol doesn’t overwhelm the palette, but it’s racy enough to bring color to Aziraphale’s cheeks. “I adopted her. Named her Rogue.”

“You adopted wild rats!?”

“Turns out - not wild. After a little investigating, I found out that momma rat had belonged to a neighbor who moved out a week ago. They couldn’t bring the rat with them, or they didn’t want to, so they set her loose in the garden downstairs. She ended up getting back in somehow.” Reuben runs his index finger around the rim of his glass. “It may sound bonkers but I admire Rogue. I really do. Abandoned by the family she thought would love and take care of her, she fights and struggles to find a safe place to have her brood, which ends up being the place she was cast out from. I couldn’t just put her on the street.” He sighs, a fond but sad smile crossing his lips. “Reminds me a bit of my mum, to tell you the truth - the unforgiving life she had raising me and my sisters after our father left …”

Aziraphale gasps, that confession wrapping around his heart and giving it a solid tug. He could listen to Reuben talk all night. But he’s not just a great storyteller. He happens to be sweet, funny, attractive (God is he attractive! But, of course, Aziraphale has always been a sucker for hazel eyes like his, with flecks of gold that brighten the irises when the alcohol flows or the lighting is right). And as if that wasn’t enough, he works at one of the most successful (and philanthropic) firms in the city. But he doesn’t wear his wealth on his sleeve, doesn’t flaunt it like a selling point. His shirt is vintage, the wine he ordered costs $20 a bottle, and he came here on the tube. Personality, modesty, good looks, environmentally conscious, a stable career … Aziraphale sighs. In his opinion, Reuben is close to the perfect guy, and this blind date is going swimmingly!

Too bad it isn’t his.

“Oh Reuben …” Lorelei – Reuben’s date – blots her eyes with her napkin. She reaches across the table to touch his hand. Reuben’s eyes flick towards the touch and he smiles brighter.

Oh yeah, Aziraphale thinks, raising his glass and finishing the last of his Sirah. They’re having a fabulous night.

Aziraphale pulls out his pocket watch and checks the time.

9:45.

He’s been sitting at the table next to theirs for over an hour, waiting for his own Reuben to appear. Aziraphale figured out thirty minutes ago that his blind date wasn’t coming. He’s gotten no texts, no calls, no apologies, no explanation why. Reuben and Lorelei might have a glowing future together, but his date for the evening is definitely a bust. The wait staff knows it, too. Every time the waitress stops by, offering to refill his water glass, it’s with a sympathetic smile. She’s long since stopped asking him if he wants to pack up what’s left of his crepes to go.

What’s left.

That’s a joke.

It’s pretty much the whole order.

He lost his appetite a long time ago.

Aziraphale reaches for his cell phone but stops with his hand on his pocket. He’s not going to be that guy. He’s not going to send another text. He’s not going to give this man an easy out, refuses to give him the benefit of the doubt and say, “Well, I guess you got caught up. Text me back and we can reschedule for another time.”

Aziraphale is done.

He just wishes he knew why.

Why doesn’t dating work out for him?

He’s not a bad guy, if he does say so himself. He’s reasonably attractive (at least, he’s always thought so). He owns his own small business, even if it doesn’t necessarily turn a profit, but money isn’t something he needs to worry about anyway. He’s doing what he loves, therefore he’s living the dream.

He’s not asking for much. He’s not looking for the perfect man, just a nice one. One who might share some of his interests like theater, food, music, wine, food, books … food. But on the whole, he wants to find a man who wants to spend time with him, get to know him, who maybe isn’t ashamed of doing cutesy, romantic things, like hold the door open for him, pull his chair out for him, offer him half his desert the way Reuben did with Lorelei.

Reuben.

Aziraphale peeks back over at the happy couple.

As Reuben stares into Lorelei’s eyes and signals for the check, Aziraphale knows that he needs to face facts and be done with this. His roommate Tracy has, yet again, succeeded in finding him a date that’s not interested in actually dating.

Where does she even find these guys?

More to the point, why hasn’t he learned to say no to her?

Unfortunately, he won’t get to gripe to her about it until Monday when she comes back from some spiritualist retreat she went on with their friend Anathema, so Aziraphale has a long, lonely weekend of reading Oscar Wilde and drinking (Irish) cocoa to look forward to until then.

Aziraphale takes one last sip of the lukewarm water in his overfilled glass and decides to ask for the check. He feels awful. He may have ordered a full meal but he’s barely touched it. Plus, even though he’s done his best to be as polite as possible, he has wasted over an hour of their time occupying a table that could have been made available to other paying customers on this busy Friday night.

He prays he has a forgettable face. On the off chance he ever comes in here again, he wouldn’t want them spitting in his food.

He looks around the dining room in search of his waitress – a lovely young red-head with freckles across the bridge of her nose and a permanent pout. He doesn’t see her, but spots a man rushing towards his table – a tall, remarkably handsome man dressed all in black and wearing designer sunglasses (indoors!); cheeks flushed as if he’s been running in the cold; a warm, inviting smile aimed his way.

“Hey there, handsome. Sorry I’m so late,” the man says, pulling out a chair, spinning it around, and straddling it across from Aziraphale in a move that makes Aziraphale’s breath catch. “I wish I could say I was stuck behind a seven car pile-up or something, but I really have no exciting excuse. Not that the M25 isn’t a bitch at this hour, but I didn’t take it so, again, no excuse.”

The man smiles at Aziraphale, waiting for him to laugh at his joke. Aziraphale looks suspiciously back, turning his head left and right, searching for an explanation.

“I … I’m sorry,” he says, addressing the man, mostly through side-eye glances. “Are you are you … looking for me?”

“Yes.” The man extends an arm across the table. “I’m your date for the evening. I’m Tracy’s friend Gabriel.”

“You?” Aziraphale raises an eyebrow. “You’re Gabriel?”

The man’s smile becomes wider in a tense sort of way. “Yes, I am.”

Aziraphale looks left and right again, obviously skeptical.

The man folds his hand on the table and sighs.

“Look, Aziraphale, I know I was supposed to be here at a quarter to nine, and I know you’ve probably called and texted a hundred times. I’m really, really sorry.” He looks down at his thumbs, fidgeting as he speaks. “I know this is going to sound lame, but I got caught up at work, and then my car ran empty. I wanted to call you, but I left my phone at the office.” The man sighs again, deeper, the air leaving his body causing him to flatten a bit. “This has been a pretty shite day, all things considered, and I was really looking forward to this date tonight. I would like the opportunity to make it up to you.” The man looks at Aziraphale from behind dark lenses, a sincere expression of regret on his face, eyes peeking over the frames pleading for a second chance.

Hazel eyes, with so many gold flecks crowding in they practically shine.

“Will you let me try?”

Aziraphale is stunned to silence. He doesn’t quite believe that Gabriel ever intended on showing up at all. But then, why is he here? Did some other plans he made fall through? Did he feel guilty about blowing Aziraphale off and turn around at the last minute? Aziraphale knows he has every right to leave - stand up, say goodbye, and go on his merry way. But Gabriel did show up – the first of three blind dates to even bother – so maybe Aziraphale should give him a chance.

He’s mulling it over when he catches sight of the man staring at him, a flirty smile on his lips that Aziraphale can’t help find alluring.

“Please?” the man mouths, the hands he’d folded on the table finding their way up to his chin to aid in his begging. “Please?”

Aziraphale rolls his eyes to pry his gaze away from the man’s mouth. “Alright. It sounds like you had a hard day. I can’t fault you for that.” The man looks relieved. His smile turns slightly impish, and Aziraphale finds himself giggling without meaning to. “Why don’t we have a nibble and get to know one another?”

Gabriel smacks his hand on the table in triumph. “Great!” he says, reclining back on the chair like a large snake relaxing in the sun. “Thank you! I promise, you won’t regret it!”

A hint of a smirk twists Aziraphale’s mouth at the corners as his waitress makes a sudden and unexpected appearance. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, my dear. You have a bit of time to make up for.”

***

“So my mate rings me up, and he’s screaming …” Gabriel gestures with his hands as he gets more into the story he’s telling, and Aziraphale watches, utterly captivated. If Aziraphale thought Reuben was a good storyteller, it’s only because he hadn’t met this man yet. “He’s straight yelling, “They’re everywhere! They’re everywhere! And it’s bloodcurdling, ya know? Like straight out of a horror movie. And I’m trying to pretend I have no idea what he’s talking about …” He pauses to catch his breath in the middle of a laugh while Aziraphale, already in tears, pictures Gabriel sitting at home, listening to his friend Ligur yelling while trying to make out like he has no idea what the man is on about. “And I’m just like, “Calm down, buddy.” But at home, I’m biting my fist trying not to blow my cover. And the next thing I know - bzzt.”

Aziraphale sobers slightly, his eyebrows shooting up. “Bzzt? What does that mean? Bzzt?”

“Bzzt as in the line goes dead. And on my end, the world might as well’ve stopped spinning because I knew what happened.”

“And what did happen?” Aziraphale asks, on the edge of his seat.

“They’d destroyed it! The rats! Those furry little buggers, they managed to knock out the phone system! And not just in my neck of the woods, but the whole of London!”

Aziraphale’s eyes go wide. “That was you!?”

Gabriel points to himself proudly. “That was me! All because …”

“All because you fed a rat!?”

“All because I fed a rat!” Gabriel guffaws so loudly, other diners turn their way to make sure he’s not choking.

“I remember that day!” Aziraphale says, but not too upset since he’s not all that fond of his cell phone. Necessary evil in his opinion. Tracy made him get it so he could field calls from potential suitors. But Tracy, who spends hours on the phone talking to her fiance, was livid!

It gives Aziraphale no small measure of satisfaction to say he now knows the man who inconvenienced her.

“I didn’t know its whole family lived in the building! Extendeds and all! I thought it was just one rat!”

“And what happened to them?”

“Exterminator, I guess,” Gabriel says with a hint of regret in his voice. “Rats are smart, though. Resilient, too. I’m hoping they got away.”

His story brings to Aziraphale’s mind Reuben’s story about the rat in his walls. He looks towards the table where he and his date were sitting, but a new couple has taken their place.

Huh, he thinks. Wonder when they left?

Aziraphale, having ordered a second glass of wine, takes a healthy sip, but the buzz he gets from the alcohol is nothing compared to the one he already has from this date with Gabriel.

“I have to say,” Aziraphale says as the laughter dies down, “I was a little wary about being set up. I mean, you hear so many stories. Best case scenario, you find your soulmate. Worst case, you wind up in the boot of someone’s car. But this is going so well!”

“Yeah. Yeah, it is,” Gabriel agrees, becoming suddenly quiet.

“I’ve never met a real live Pied Piper before!”

Gabriel laughs, but it’s not like before - not as effervescent and carefree. Aziraphale looks down at the empty plates on the table, at the stray pieces of crepes and deviled eggs they’d ended up splitting, not a single full bite left. As it turned out, they both ordered really well. Aziraphale didn’t think it was possible for two things to be so compatible.

He was wrong, pleasantly so.

“I know you had a rotten day but thank you for showing up. This was probably the most perfect blind date ever.” Aziraphale watches Gabriel, concerned that his attention seems to be slipping away.

Before he gets to comment, Gabriel beats him to it.

“Aziraphale, I have a confession to make.”

Aziraphale feels the butterflies that have been dancing in his stomach during dinner drop dead, as if hit by a sudden frost.

“Yes, Gabriel?”

“I …”

“Crowley! Hey! Fancy seeing you here, ya old bastard!”

Aziraphale’s attention pulls to the left, to a man with white hair and dark eyes heading their way. No, Aziraphale amends. He’s going to go past them, to a table on their right since neither of them are named Crowley. Aziraphale peeks at the handful of tables there, but no one seems to notice the man calling over their heads.

No one named Crowley is responding to his call.

He is sort of making a scene. Maybe this Crowley is trying to ignore him?

But the man coming their way seems completely focused on Gabriel.

Aziraphale looks to Gabriel, staring down at his plate and concentrating on it, as if praying this man, whoever he is, will pass them by.

Who could it be to him to elicit such a reaction, especially when it’s obvious he’s got the wrong man?

“Gabriel?” Aziraphale says, worried that perhaps something they ate soured his stomach. “Is there something the matter?”

Gabriel closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Aziraphale, I …”

“Crowley!” The man comes right up to their table and claps a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder, hard enough to make him flinch. “How long has it been, huh? Two months? Three?”

Gabriel sighs. He turns to the man looming over him and smiles the strained smile of a man about to commit a murder. “Hastur! Buddy! What a pleasant surprise!”

“Yeah.” The man chuckles. “You look like it is.”

“I thought you were vacationing down under.”

“Well, I’m back now. Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” he asks, taking no time cutting to the chase.

“Aziraphale,” Gabriel … no, Crowley … says, doing everything in his power to avoid the full intensity of Aziraphale’s confused gaze, “I’d like to introduce you to Hastur. He’s … uh … an old friend of mine from school. Hastur, this is Aziraphale. He’s my … date for the evening.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Hastur says, extending a hand. Aziraphale takes it and gives it a shake. It’s cold from the outdoors but not unpleasant. Hastur, on the whole, isn’t being impolite. He’s just oblivious.

As is Aziraphale.

“I’ve been tellin’ this asshat for years now he needs to get off his high horse and start dating again. Nice to see he finally took my advice.”

“Yeah, well, now that I have, why don’t you make yourself scarce so Aziraphale and I can continue?” Crowley grumbles, shooting Hastur several venom-filled glares.

“A’right, a’right,” he says, putting his hands up in defense, “don’t mind me. Just headin’ to the bar anyhow. Ring me up later, Crowley. We’ll go out for a few. Maybe your friend can come with us.”

“Will do.”

“You gentlemen have a nice night.” He bumps Crowley with his hip, winks at Aziraphale, then turns on his heel and heads for the bar.

The silence he leaves behind at Aziraphale and Crowley’s table is so thick, it could suffocate a wild boar.

Aziraphale clears his throat first. “So …”

Crowley follows, a bit softer. “So …”

“Tell me the truth,” Aziraphale says, too emotionally charged to keep frustration from cracking his voice.

“And if you don’t like what you hear?” Crowley looks at Aziraphale’s hands worrying his napkin, as if he’s longing to reach across the table and take one. “Are you going to leave?”

“I’m going to leave anyway. I just want to know who I’m calling the cops on when I get outside.”

“Don’t do that. I’m harmless. I promise.”

“Who are you?”

“Well … as you probably already know, my name isn’t Gabriel,” he says, finally removing his glasses and setting them aside. “It’s Crowley. Anthony Crowley. And I wasn’t your blind date. I’m not the man your friend set you up with.”

Aziraphale moves the napkin to his lap and smooths it, giving himself something other than Crowley to look at.

“To tell you the truth, I had a feeling,” he confesses. “I mean, you don’t seem like the type of man my friend would usually set me up with.”

“What kind of men does she usually set you up with?”

Aziraphale chuckles. “I don’t know. They don’t tend to show up.” Crowley growls, shakes his head in disgust. Aziraphale is flattered by his reaction. But he has to ask, “I don’t understand why? Why did you do this?”

“I stopped in for a drink and I saw you sitting at this table, waiting for your date.” Crowley grins. “I have to admit, I thought you were a looker, so I kept looking. I heard you talking to the waitress, making jokes. You sounded like a nice guy. You told her how your friend set you up, how excited you were. Then I heard you calling, saw you texting, and waiting and waiting and …"

“And you took pity on me,” Aziraphale says, embarrassment wearing a pit in his stomach.

“No, I was angry! I was angry that some dumb fuck got the chance to have a date with such a great seeming guy like you and he bailed. Opportunities like that don’t come by all the time and he threw his away. But I saw an opportunity and I took it. And no matter what you think about me now, I’m glad I did. Because you’re great. You’re really great. And I hope that you’ll forgive me and let me take you out on a real first date.”

The table becomes quiet again - Crowley watching Aziraphale, Aziraphale looking at his lap. The whole restaurant seems to have gone silent, as if everyone around them who has listened to them laugh and talk and watched them share their meal is waiting to see what Aziraphale is going to say. From somewhere off toward the kitchen door, Crowley thinks he sees a few of the waitresses peeking around a corner, watching their table a little too intensely.

“What else was a lie?” Aziraphale asks. “Everything you said over dinner, was any of that true?”

“All of it,” Crowley says. “Everything I said about living in Mayfair, owning a Bentley, taking a permanent gap year, working as a nanny for kicks, being an obnoxious trust fund baby, tormenting my friends with a rat army … here … wait …” Crowley opens his jacket and reaches into his pocket, pulling out his phone. He touches the screen, swipes it a few times, then hands it to Aziraphale. “Take a look. Granted I’ve only had this since the recent iPhone hit the bricks, but I’ve got a few pictures on it that should back me up. My Bentley, my flat, a few of my plants …” Crowley ticks photos off as Aziraphale flips through them. “There should even be one or two of the rats. Ligur sent them to me before he ran screaming.” Crowley snickers in such an off-handed way, Aziraphale can’t help believing him. And speak of the devil, next photo up is of a work station covered in black rats rooting through the works and apparently sending London skidding back to the dark ages.

Maybe Aziraphale just wants to believe him, but as far as he’s concerned, Crowley is telling the truth.

“I … I don’t know,” Aziraphale says, handing the phone back.

“What?” Crowley asks, his expression of newly kindled hope falling off his face. “What don’t you know?”

“Yes, you’re telling the truth, but …”

“But …”

“I don’t know anything about you. Not really.”

“Fair enough,” Crowley says, slipping his phone back in his pocket. “But can I ask you a question?”

“I guess.”

“What did you know about Gabriel before you showed up here to meet him?”

“Well, I …” Aziraphale sits there with his mouth open, expecting words to come out that don’t exist, because he didn’t know anything about Gabriel. Not even what he looked like. Tracy told him that she showed Gabriel a picture of him, and that Gabriel would know him when he saw him. But other than that, all he had was Tracy’s assurance that they would work well together. In reality, Gabriel could have stopped by at some point, caught Aziraphale waiting for him, didn’t like what he saw, then turned around and left, and Aziraphale would have never known.

But Crowley on the other hand - Aziraphale has been talking to Crowley all through dinner. Provided he’s telling the truth, Aziraphale knows more about him than he does his best friend, and they used to room together.

“Okay,” he concedes. “You’ve got me. Alright, Crowley. Sure. I would love to go on a real first date with you.”

Crowley reaches his hand across the table and Aziraphale takes it, suddenly recalling the look in Reuben’s eye before he signaled for the check.

Crowley has a similar look.

He raises his hand for the check.

But after not seeing her for most of their meal, their waitress walks over and puts two glass flutes down. Then she pours each man a glass of champagne from a bottle Aziraphale is certain costs more than their meal.

“Uh, waitress?” Crowley calls to the woman before she can walk away.

“Yes, sir?”

“What’s this?” he asks, perplexed by the sudden appearance of alcohol.

“It’s champagne,” she says, as if that isn’t apparent. “The house special.”

“But we didn’t order champagne” Aziraphale points out.

“I know,” she says with a wink. “It’s on the house. Enjoy it. Take all the time you need …”

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #ineffable valentines #ineffable husbands #anthony j crowley #aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale

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lily-of-the-eyrie · 5 years ago

Text

💭 Monro/Gist HCs

Yeah ok so Tumblr’s tag limit isn’t big enough to hold my ambition and cropped out some of my rambling, meaning I have been forced to finally consider using a text post to house my HCs rather than solely relying on the tag allotments of my images

So here I am

Some more of what it says on the tin:

The Colonel is a light sleeper, but he sleeps more soundly leaning against Gist (which only happens if they’re out in the field and regular sleeping arrangements are a distant dream). To the Colonel’s credit, he claims that it was, indeed, comfortable.

Gist has the honour of being the Colonel’s oldest friend and closest ally in the colonies, and true to this, he seems to have a sixth sense when it comes to telling if something is bothering the man. He wouldn’t force the issue immediately—the Colonel innately dislikes being fussed over—and trusts the older Templar enough to ask for his help when he feels it’s the right time to. Still, this isn’t a foolproof method, and Gist sees the Colonel indulging in his habit of clearly trying to take on more than he can manage, he will interfere.

Gist is loud, and the Colonel likes that the way it is. When it comes to dispositions, the Colonel tends to...mull over the gloomier stuff when things get dark (a lot of thinking does that to you), but when in comes Gist with his voice like the summer sun, it’s hard to keep brooding for long.

The Colonel never fails to gently chastise Gist when he’s being too rowdy, and, to be honest, Gist doesn’t mind. It’s his way of moderating his more...destructive side, and he knows it. It could be that he was being overly enthusiastic about starting a fight, or that he was being too attached to his drink—if he feels the Colonel tugging at his lead, he listens and gives way.

Still, Gist does love a good banter, and the Colonel isn’t about to change that. Monro probably responds to most of his cheekiness by inwardly rolling his eyes, but sometimes Gist catches him from just the right angle, and the Colonel for all his calm couldn’t resist chuckling at his sass. That never gets old.

Throughout 1757, after the Colonel decided he was going to try spare Shay’s life by advocating for letting him join the Order, he sometimes has doubts about whether the ex-Assassin could really change—if Shay discovers that he’s a Templar, would he still be so friendly with him? (After all, his Brotherhood had killed Finnegan Jr., who had also tried to be good but was unfortunately still a Templar—a fact that Johnson and his anti-Assassin crew would never let him forget) Gist, though, had no such doubts; he’d been right by his Captain’s side for the whole year long, and knew with complete certainty that if ever the Colonel found himself in danger, Shay would come running to him right away, allegiances be damned. Gist’s intuition is barely every wrong, and he assures the Colonel he can bet his life on it. (Gist wore the most smug “I told you so” face for a few days after Fort William Henry, and the Colonel can’t quite say he found it the slightest bit annoying)

After the raid at Albany and the Colonel’s funeral, Gist had to admit he feels a bit...off-balance. With Monro no longer around to rein in his less sympathetic urges, he feels it’s once again easy to get lost. Of course, he couldn’t quite lose his grip on things when he still has his Captain to serve (a full Templar now, look at him), but when Shay feels uneasy about having to kill Adéwalé, a good man in a war that had killed so very many good men, he feels a little bad about immediately framing it as a necessary evil—and for slipping down that vengeful slope so effortlessly. In their kind of war, it’s hard not to wind up feeling bitter.

#⟪Headcanon Hour 💭⟫#⟪✠ The Virginian Rite ✠⟫#⟪✠ Honour and Loyalty ✠⟫#...yeaaah ok that got a bit dark at the end but #all in all Rogue is a total tragedy so honestly is anyone surprised 😂#but ok my point is that these two had been through a /lot/ of shit and they fought their way through it /together/#and das hot

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dreams-madeof-strawberrylemonade · 5 years ago

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Bad Moon Rising - Part 1

Warnings: none Word count: 1.2 K+ (rest of the chapters are longer, I pinky promise) A/N: Finally here comes the first part of this series!! I am both so nervous and excited about this! It is my first time posting on Tumblr a x O.C. fic and I really don’t know how will it be received. Any suggestions, critiques, comments and reactions are welcome :) The photos and GIFs that I use are not mine. Credits go to the owners.

To be added to the taglist, DM me or send me an ask!

Sam Kiszka x O.C. [Jane Morrison]

Bad Moon Rising Masterpost // Fanfiction Masterpost

She was sitting on a low chair, her bare feet touching the soft and fluffy carpet. In front of her was a large mirror and as she stared into it, she could see herself dressed in the white dress with detailed fine embroideries on the upper part. She could see the tears, infused with a light grey color from the mascara and leaving a visible trail down her rosy cheeks. The tip of her nose was red and her hands were shaky.

If you would’ve presented this picture to anyone without telling them the context, they’d assume the good thing – that she is crying tears of happiness on her wedding day, not believing that she is now going to start her new life alongside the love of her life. The reality though, was much grimmer than that. Her tears weren’t joyful, on the contrary, they were tears of pure pain coming from her pure and innocent soul. She couldn’t believe this was the reality and what could’ve been probably the happiest day of her life, quickly turned into the day of complete heartbreak, sadness and doubts about everything she has ever done and said.

She was still waiting for someone to come in and tell her it has all been a big misunderstanding or a really bad joke, but nobody did that. She couldn’t believe that she had been so blind in the years that passed, so blind she didn’t see that her fiancé, her soon-to-be husband, has been cheating on her for over two years. She has been so in love with him that she accepted every pathetic and half-assed excuse only for the sake of sleeping peacefully at night knowing that she was in love with somebody who felt the same way about her.

Her hair was now messy and all over her face and her makeup was ruined, but there wasn’t an occasion to look pretty for anymore, so that didn’t present such a big problem… She was still waiting for him to come in and apologize. A simple apology would’ve done the trick. In the state she was in right now, she would’ve most likely even accept it and beg him to get married after all and put the past behind them.

She seemed to be yearning. Desperately yearning for love.

A faint knock on the door interrupted her sobs for a brief moment and her head peeked out of her hands. She looked in the mirror, locking eyes with the boy walking inside.

“Jesus… Jane,” he whispers as he sees her red eyes and stained cheeks and rushed to her.

Jane couldn’t hold it in for another second, so she burst in sobs once again. This betrayal of her loved one hurt even more than any physical wound or any other lie. She told him she loved him and he told her that he loved her as well. Every single night. He lied straight to her face for almost two years.

His hand softly touched Jane’s back, drawing small circles. He wanted to hug her close to his chest and tell her that everything is going to be fine, but he couldn’t. He didn’t want to prey on her weakness. He genuinely cared for her ever since they were little kids and he saw her move in the house next to his. It was truly painful even for him to see her in this state and he didn’t even know what could’ve happened to get her like this. He only came there in a hurry after a very cryptic text of hers.

“Sam,” she whispered between loud sobs. She was embarrassed that she let him see her this way, even though as kids, he saw far worse things than her sobbing. “I’m going to be sick,” she continues after gulping loudly.

Sam’s whole body tensed up. He never knew what to do in these situations, but he tried to keep his calm. At least one of them had to be calm enough and take rational decisions and this time, this responsibility came to him.

“Okay, come on, sit up slowly,” he says firm, as if trying to convince himself he’s doing it the right way. He put an arm around her shoulders, supporting her while standing up. His eyes looked around the room they were in, quickly finding what he needed – a bathroom.

Sam caressed Jane’s back while he carried her towards the bathroom. He could feel her frail body in his arms. Her whole body was shaking. He was afraid he’d break her if he squeezed her shoulder a litter harder to offer her extra support. He was also afraid to ask what had happened, he didn’t want to trigger another crying-until-sick episode.

Sam opened the door to the bathroom and before he could react in any way, Jane threw herself on the floor and started sobbing again, hiding her face in her hands. Sam kneeled in front of her and took one of her hands in his.

He didn’t know what to say nor what to do, so he simply stood there and looked at the floor in silence. Whilst Sam considered himself a fool for not doing anything, Jane was overly thankful for his presence. He didn’t need him to say or do anything, he just wanted him to be there. She wanted him to be there because he was the only person she could put her trust in right now.

“Sam, I need to throw up,” Jane admitted. She felt stupid for bringing Sam all the way there only to sit by her side and the thing she just said didn’t make her feel any better about her decision to ask him to come there.

Sam hurriedly took Jane’s hair in his hands and tied it in a messy ponytail using his elastic. Her hair was so soft against his fingertips. His guess was that she had washed it that morning. It was supposed to be her wedding day, after all.

“Alone,” she whispered. Her voice sounded rather hoarse, as she tensed up.

Sam nodded. “Knock or say something if you need help.”

Sam walked outside and waited patiently. He looked around the room with creamy orange walls. The color was kind of aggressive in normal daylight, but at sunrise and sunset it looked pretty. He would know this because he came here so many times before, to help Jane choose her dress and make small adjustments to it.

It hurt him to let her go and marry someone and probably never see her again, but he wanted her to be happy. As long as she was happy, he was happy.

Jane eventually came stumbling out of the bathroom with a serious look on her face. Her eyes were bloodshot and red, glitter from her eyeshadow was smeared all over her face and the mascara the tears carried still stained her cheeks. But something in her eyes and in her attitude changed. Of course the pain was still there, but while she was busy throwing up she realized that it’s no use crying over the asshole of a fiancé and it was time to go out there and live her life.

She gazed in Sam’s direction, who had a worried look on his face, but a look from Jane was enough for Sam to understand everything. He saw the pain in her eyes and the wish to get revenge which was overshadowed by her kindness and peaceful spirit. Sam understood.

New times were coming their way.

Tags: @myownparadise96, @satans-helper, @jeordinevankiszka, @littlegeekwonder, @songbirdkisses, @pomegranatecurses, @angelstraightfr0mhell, @freeeshavacadoo, @karrotkate, @mountainofthesunn, @bigthighsandstupidguys

#greta van fleet #greta van fleet fanfiction #gvf #gvf fic #gvf fanfic #sam kiszka #sam kiszka x oc #bad moon rising #fic #fanfiction #writing #josh kiszka #jake kiszka #danny wagner #series #oc #oc series #sam kiszka series

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wackygoofball · 6 years ago

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Gwenspiration: The Wacky Version Vol. 3 - The Moodboards

So, here I go again parading myself and tooting like there is no tomorrow.

As people still brave enough to follow me on Tumblr will know, I do a lot of moodboards, or at least I call them such. Others call them collages or storyboards or pictures with random text. Either way, for me, moodboards became a neat tool to somehow capture story ideas not yet anywhere near a level that I could write fic about them - or serve as inspirations for fics I am actually writing.

And it gives me opportunity to hoard unhealthy amounts of Gwen and Nik pics, in the name of moodboards. And science. And stuff. Whoozah!

So yeah, in this post, I want to share some of my personal favorites. A lot of them actually, because I can’t decide, really.

I will start off with a group of moodboards which took inspiration from the Marvel universe, since the Marvel universe was my gateway into the more active parts of fandom.

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An all-time fave is the Iron Man AU... I mean, what not to love about a JB AU with Jaime as sassy Tony Stark and Brienne as the not-taking any shit from you army doctor, am I right? But yeah, seriously, Jaime *is* the Tony Stark of the GOT universe, and I can’t be convinced otherwise. And neither should be you.

Also, the Iron Man suits just totally fit the color scheme for both, which made creating the moodboards all the better for me. Jaime and Brienne were made for armor, now in medieval or modern times, let’s not kid ourselves.

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Another Marvel fave has got to be Captain Westeros. Because if there is a female GOT Version of Steve Rogers, it’s gotta be Brienne of fuckin’ Tarth. This one is really close to my heart because it gave me a lot of feels coming up with plot bunnies for it, and the tragedy of those two people missing each other in time over and over again, always trying to protect one another, only to end up on opposite sides because of the machinations of others... *sigh*

And I mean, one guy loses an arm. The other is blond and strong... I don’t make the rules but this delivers me enough material to re-imagine this as a JB AU... so yeah, I do kinda make the rules after all. Anyway.

Since I realized that this post’s gonna get even looooonger, I decided to make a cut here and put the rest below, so not to have you scrolling for five hours.

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Although it’s not the most popular moodboard amongst my followers (you brave people, I can’t parade you enough for staying through the madness lol), I really, really love that Fantastic Four moodboard and the concept behind it. And I just know a lot of effort went into making Valyrian Steel Brienne, which took all of my three computer editing skillz brain cells. But yeah, here again, I liked to play with the idea of them not admitting to their love until shit hits the fan and then they hide behind that because... drama, angst, feels, pining, yadda.

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And we go from Marvel to DC little quick. Because Brienne is, most certainly, a Wonder Woman. Nuf said.

Now, let’s move on to other big movie franchises that give me all the JB feels:

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Jurassic Park (aka Valyrian Park) evidently holds a special place in my heart because JB fighting dinosaur-dragon hybrids and kicking ass while being disbelieving about what was bred out in Valyria thanks to some certain someones to rescue Brienne’s adoptive daughter Arya is just... a thing? For me anyway.

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More down memory lane, I don’t know how often I watched the LOTR movies, suffice to say it was a lot a lot. We had the extended versions DVDs of the first two and basically it was the one thing to watch when nothing was on (which was the case a lot). Either way. JB in MIddle Earth long after the days of Frodo et al. - why? Because I just loved the idea (and aesthetic) of Jaime as a ranger and Brienne as a knight of Gondor working in disguise. And Hobbipod. I mean, Pod as a Hobbit. Come the fuck on. And Tyrion as an asshole wizard. What could possibly go wrong? This moodboard was very time-consuming as I had to do a lot of edits (pointy ears, tiny up people, smudge Brienne’s face on a lot of Boromir and Faramir images, smudge Jaime’s face on a lot of Aragorn images, you name it). So yeah. No matter its popularity... I dig it. Despite not having read the books yet (I know, shocking), I continue to ogle at the idea and go like: Must. Write. But. Must. Resist. Either way. Mood.

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So yeah, I grew up watching these movies a lot, too (I grew up watching a lot of TV, period). And when Gwen was cast as Captain Phasma, I got a lot of JB juices flowing as a result. Mehe. I found it was a fun idea to play with, to basically *kill* Phasma so *Brienne* can come into play and assume her identity. And a rundown Jedi!Jaime who’s lost faith in himself and everything else safe for his partner in crime/resistance is just... I needz. So you gotta cope with it. I still adore this concept a lot even if others may not. :)

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This one’s just... gah. Feels. And I really liked the color scheme lol. And I watched Horse Whisperer A LOT. Because of feels. And horses. And Honor is a horse and he deserved better than be barbecued at Highgarden, dammit.

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The No Reservations AU definitely has to be in this post because I live for this dynamic. Brienne taking care of the girls, not knowing how, though, constantly doubting herself while always trying to be perfect and composed, not just in life but on the job as well. And Jaime being the laid-back guy who’s just a darn good chef but may carry his own baggage of problems that keep him from his happy ending story is just... mah jam.

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This one was a lot of fun to do because you don’t really think about Erin Brockovich when you say Brienne of Tarth in terms of character. But when you scratch away the boob jokes and the differences in where they come from, what you find are two hard-working women who fight for justice, so I found that close enough. And it was excuse enough for me to go down the lane of biker!Jaime because... dayum.

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Music and Lyrics is an all-time guilty pleasure romcom of mine. It’s so light and easy and I kind of love how everyone is basically a bunch of awkward losers. All the more perfect for Jaime as a singer (we need that in our lives after the infamous video Nik was in to sing to us about global warming...) and Brienne as the unexpectedly gifted songwriter. What I like about the moodboard per se is how the color scheme turned out because it’s all warm and bright and... makes me happy.

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Very much in contrast to the former stands this one. I still love the overall mood of it and I dig the story idea because I dug both The Prestige and The Illustionist because they presented something dark yet very different, which made it all the more appealing to put into a moodboard for me. While not the most well-known moodboard of mine, I keep going back to it time and time again to basically lust at all the illusions and magic and drama. And blue butterflies.

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What is there not to love about a Pacific Rim AU for JB, am I right? Right?! JB ain’t just compatible when it comes to the Drift, yo, that’s all I’m gonna say. Reasons why I like the moodboard a lot is that it’s very different, flashy colors, gigantic robots, and I was mostly alright with how the edits turned out. It is tough to get images that fit the angles, yo.

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Jumping back in time once more, I really adore this one even though it’s not one of my popular moodboards. I dug the fusion of elements from Cinderella Man while granting Brienne as the female lead more space to develop as a character and make her a badass sniper nurse who is about to get her doctor’s degree. And Jaime doing anything to make it work because he owes her a debt (and his love) by boxing his way to their shared life is just... nice.

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Another supposedly lesser known moodboard is this one, though I really adore it for its premise and the amount of work I put into it (all the giffing and moodboarding). I also found use for that image of Gwen with what looks like the veil of a nun, which was probably what had me inspired in the first place lol. The plot bunnies revolve less around Se7en and more the novel El ùltimo Catón (2001) because it has a nun solving a mystery revolving around Dante’s works. But Se7en gives us the Seven, which is a delicious parallel too hard to ignore. For me at least. If only I knew how to write crime, dammit.

Now, to move more into the serial (smooth transition from serial killer to serial TV shows, I know, I know) way of life, here is some moodboards inspired by TV shows (although some have since gotten movies which I also took inspiration from... yadda):

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Childhood memory galore. I spent many weekends watching The A-Team with the whole family. When the movie came out, I was happy about the feels it gave me (and the “you spin my head right round” scene still cracks me up more often than it should). Either way. I found it absolutely necessary for Jaime to be Face, for Tyrion to be Hannibal, for Bronn to be B.A. and cuss at everyone and everything and Brienne giving us the strangest genderbend of a Howling Mad Murdock. It added some angst, which I always need because I am a thirsty hoe for it. In case no one noticed yet. Ha.

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This one is very remotely inspired by The Bletchley Circle and the Imitation Game (because both feature encryption and one features Charles Dance already, yo.) I just really dug the idea of Brienne being so good at this because she is such a straight thinker but being underestimated because “she a woman.” And of course her not being done just encoding messages but getting into action, very much to the dismay of the stupid soldier wanting to defend the bae from harm. What could possibly go wrong? Right. A lot.

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Then. Elementary. Let me count the ways in which I love that show... ALL THE WAYS. And I really dig it as a JB AU. I have so many thoughts and feelings, I can’t even begin to tell you. I especially had my fun basically making Jaime Sherlock without making him really Sherlock because that guy was the one who taught him how to be an investigator before disappearing and fucking up his life for bad. And Brienne as the army doctor turned sober companion turned private investigator turned love interest is just too delicious to ignore.

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Pants down I mean hands down, this may be the actual favorite (currently) amongst them all for the plain reason that I also grew up watching that series and still watch it and keep obsessing about it. Ever since Discovery launched and has since given me both joy and grief, I found myself intrigued by the premise of a JB Star Trek AU where Brienne would be standing *with* the Klingons during the war around the time Discovery takes place, and Captain Jaime Lannister having lost far too much to this war already to truly trust anyone, even less so a woman who ran to the Klingons, for what it seems.

You would not believe how many ideas I have for a fic based on it. You wouldn’t believe that I basically have a sequel to that fic already in mind. And you would definitely believe, knowing me, that I am nowhere near writing that fic. But a fangirl can dream and moodboard, right? The moodboard was such a fun way of going about it, not only for the edits but because I could sneak some secret Klingon messages in there. :)

Now, on to the last part, which are the moodboards not inspired by movies or TV shows primarily but really just spewed out of my wacky, wacky brain:

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This has a special place in my heart because it combines military and the traumas it comes with for JB and.... the aesthetic of farming. And both finding a kind of peace they didn’t know they were looking for as they struggle to adjust and find their way back “to normal” after the horrors they have both seen in war. And did I mention the aesthetic? And Jaime in plaid? All dirty and sweaty? Do I have to say more?

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Why this one? Because it combines angst and romance and falling in love twice because DESTINY. And paintings. I love me my artist AUs. So that was my go at it, combining it with the “mystery” to be uncovered about what history Jaime and Brienne actually share as he tries to put his memories back together. Also. This moodboard gave me opportunity to try out new filters and create JB paintings. :)

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This one’s gotta be on the list since I also added the Horse Whisperer. Now it’s Dog Whisperer Jaime and Brienne who won’t give up on her dog who’s seen some shit in the warzone (as did she, but Brienne will put it all aside for her doggish best buddy, of course). While it’s not a very popular moodboard of mine, I really enjoy the premise of it and how the dynamics can so easily change between the two of them if you see it in comparison to the Horse Whisperer AU. Also. I just really think Jaime is a total pet person.

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Another lesser known moodboard, I’d assume, but I really dug the premise of it (still do), and it was intriguing to do some edits to make Jaime’s hand *truly* golden lol. With people having developed strange mutations which aren’t nearly as much fun as they are in Fantastic Four AUs. What I liked about it was the idea that Brienne would have a kind of mutation/ability that links to the mind, since she is such a physically strong fighter that she may rather rely on that than on her own mind, fearing that she cannot control that with discipline the same way she can train her body with it. What unites the two is their strong wish to protect the people in their care, in a world on the verge of collapse forcing two unexpected allies together (okay, I totally expected it, but they didn’t). Either way. Much love for this one. :)

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Aaaand the last one (not of all the ones I made but the ones I picked for Gwenspiration). I really, really, really adore this one because I was so happy with how the aesthetic turned out and how the colors all match. And I dig the premise. Like holy moly do I dig it deep. Jaime and Brienne both serving in military, but on different fronts, and almost accidentally ending up writing each other letters? I mean... the PINING. And Brienne having to decipher Jaime’s chickenscratch. Yeah no, but for real. I just love the idea so much. That they are both committed to the cause while also yearning for a home, for peaceful times, for sweet, sweet love. And them meeting up and acting like stupid teenagers, only for drama to keep hitting because. It’s eh me angsty Wacky.

Either way. I dig the premises of a lot of my moodboards (in fact... basically all of them or else I wouldn’t be making them, I guess). I spared you listing all of them, though I listed a whole damn lot already. Moodboards are an awesome means for me personally to visualize and (re-)imagine. And since quite a few people seem to continue to be onboard with them, I am all the happier to keep making them.

That’s all for today.

Much love! ♥♥♥

*flies away*

#gwenspiration #jaime x brienne #jaime lannister #brienne of tarth #game of thrones #wacky tries moodboards #and talks about them a lot

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girlgrouptrash101 · 6 years ago

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Eunbi (IZ*ONE) as Your Girlfriend

Request: “Hi! May I request Eunbi as your gf imagine pls?”

A/N: Are you even a wiz*one if you don’t remember the iconic “Kwon Eun Bi Cross!”

- C

Kwon Eunbi?? The best girlfriend ever?? I think so

As soon as she starts dating you, you become her #1 priority

Texts you every hour of every day to make sure that her baby is thriving!

If she finds out you skipped a meal she will drop everything and come to your house and cook you the tastiest meal you’ve ever eaten

and she will watch and make sure that you eat every last bite.

Eunbi is really serious about your relationship, she wouldn’t date someone she didn’t think she was going to stay with for a long time

Really chill about dates until it comes to anniversaries

then she will go all out, turning up at your door in the sexiest dress along with a reservation for an incredibly high-class restaurant

Otherwise, her favourite place is with you in her arms while you lay on the couch and binge the latest series that Eunbi wanted you guys to watch together

Her favourite way to cuddle you is when she pulls you onto her lap, one hand wrapped around your waist, and the other softly caressing your thigh

Eunbi also loves when you sit in her lap because she has easy access to kiss you whenever she wants to

an outstanding kisser

and the thing is, she knOws it too, and she picks up on every little thing that drives you crazy so she knows how to please you, even more, the next time

Late night walks, hand in hand, talking about things you’re too afraid to talk about with anyone else

Eunbi listens to every word that comes out of your mouth, no matter how dumb

especially when you’re sharing your insecurities and worries with her, because she wants to be the one you can depend on no matter what challenges you happen to face in life

She also trusts you completely, because she believes there’s no real connection without trust.

There’s never a dull moment with Eunbi though

no matter how caring she is, she’s just naturally a crackhead that comes out with the dumbest things when you least expect them

so many inside jokes

y’all could just be out shopping when Eunbi sees something that reminds her of one of your jokes, and then the next minute the both of you are howling with laughter, the tears streaming down your face as you clenched your sides, the moment just way too funny for either of you to handle

Complains about her members' antics even though you know she loves them endlessly

Also, it makes her heart flutter when she sees you and her members interacting because it’s all the people she loves so much getting along so well and she just <3333

Whenever she’s stressed out, all you have to do is hold her close and play with her hair the way she likes it to get her to calm down.

No one else is ever able to keep her calm and collected the way you do though, and she appreciates it so much

She makes such a good impression on your parents that they’re asking when you’re getting married though they’ve only known her for like ten minutes

Always looks like she’s jumped straight out of a girlfriend material Tumblr post because miss Eunbi is the definition of girlfriend material

especially when she’s lookin all cute, wrapped up in your hoodie and giving you a shy smile as you compliment her endlessly

Eunbi said ‘I love you’ first, but she still got so red and flustered when you said it back

promise rings because you know that you’re made for one another

can I get an uwu? can I please get an uwu??

NSFW From Here:

Another thigh queen

one time you were sitting on your bed, waiting for some big surprised that Eunbi said she’d planned for you

and she came in wearing all black lingerie - garter belts, stockings, lace, all of it.

Followed by a lap dance that had your head spinning faster than it ever had before

She’s amazing with her tongue and she doesn’t doubt her skills, your reactions are enough to let her know how good she is

nothing sounds better to her than you desperately moaning out her name, just desperately begging for her to push you over the edge the way you needed her to.

Unnie kink

records videos of her getting herself off and sends them to you knowing they’ll make you crack and that you’ll be begging her to come fuck you

spanks you if you misbehave

if she ever gets jealous, she takes it out on you during sex

likes using a strap on, but she prefers it when you come around her fingers

hits your G-spot perfectly with every thrust, she really is that bitch

always teases you, especially when she’s finished an intense dance practice and she comes back all hot and sweaty, sending you winks and dropping hints so you’ll hopefully join her in the shower

Her motherly sides do still come into play during and after sex

she babies you afterwards, kissing over where she bit or marked you, holding you close and whispering sweet nothings as you fall asleep in her arms

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theway-itwas · 5 years ago

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20200317

i write many notes about her. some people journal, and i write little tidbits of what i’m feeling when i’m feeling it, sort of as a log to keep track of what i’m feeling about her.

it’s been two months, and then some. it still hurts, but it’s more a stinging feeling now. it’s different, not at all how i expected it to feel at this point in time. with everything going on i have felt and pondered many things, gone into the depths of myself and uncovered secrets about myself i never knew existed. it’s fulfilling to see myself reach a potential i didn’t know i could reach.

i still think she’s going to come back, and i’m almost confident she will. this feeling, this intuitive gut knowing that she will return is hard to shake. it has to account for something, it’s not for nothing. there’s a reason the signs keep popping up, there’s a reason for everything, and i am starting to piece them together and understand exactly what it is i need to do.

she pulls me back in right when i feel like it’s my time to walk away. like saturday night/sunday morning, when we watched parasite and facetimed until 5 in the morning out of the blue. all saturday i was crying over her, and that very night she messaged me. we had a fun conversation, then talked throughout the night. and then it was back to normal, back to reality. she stopped talking to me again.

i doubt she understands just how much it meant to me. that night was great, it resurfaced a lot of feelings i’d pushed deep down, and it made me realize yet again that it’s still her. it’s going to be her for a while, and that i am confident that for her it will eventually be me too. it couldn’t mean nothing, it can’t mean nothing. i know in my soul that it meant something to her like it meant to me.

and with that, i want to explain some of the things in my notes. i kind of just want to write, but didn’t know what to write independently, so i figured i’d go into detail for myself.

“i remember staring at your eyes and memorizing the color because i didn’t want to forget.” inspired by my main tumblr, and encapsulating how it felt to look into her ‘boba ball’ eyes and never want to see anything else ever again.

“la citta di smeraldo” the truth untold by bts. it made me think of how i was when we were ~together~, the story reminded me of myself. i hated myself then, i’m getting better now.

“the nights i’ll grow not to remember, but you, i will never forget.” it’s the truth. the individual nights have started to fade, and soon enough they’ll all be forgotten memories. but her, she will always be a part of me. she will stay in my head forever.

“i was desperately looking for happy songs to listen to when i realized that the playlist i made for you was filled with them. good news is, i can listen to it without crying. bad news is, every song is still about you.” that one speaks for itself. i wrote that before she unfollowed the playlist, which made it harder to listen to. but it remains true still. every song is about her, even if it hurts to daydream when i listen to them.

“once i realized that i deserved better, and that i was capable of giving myself everything you could not, i was happier. that’s funny, isn’t it? how i’m happy and i am learning to love myself now that you’re out of the picture. things without you used to be so hard, now they’re getting easier day by day, and you’re just not that special anymore.” this one is funny because it was so incredibly short-lived. that was a great week, but i was trying to deny how i felt. i accept it now, and i allow myself to feel these things for her knowing it is for good reason and it will get better someday.

“i don’t think you understand how much i need you, were you really just a waste of all those nights? i don’t think the stars aligned so i can’t have you, is the universe really that unkind?” song lyrics i wrote for sydney, but that i altered a bit to fit izzy. they fit so much more in this situation.

“there’s not a song sad enough.” i revisit this one, mentally, a lot. when i first saw that she was talking to someone else, and that she confessed to them and it went well, this was my immediate reaction. no song was sad enough to match how i felt. i was destroyed.

“everybody’s blind when the view’s amazing.” stay by post malone. i still love that song, and it’s true. rose colored glasses are a dangerous thing.

“i don’t follows fighting for a lost cause, feels like even drifting we’re just off course” fomo by eden. the best song off of no future, and it was my simping song for a while.

“she says i’m no good with my hands but i’d hold up the whole sky for her” 2020 by eden. again, lyrics that somehow explain what i could never.

“i begged you to tell me to turn around, but all i heard was silence. maybe it was me who should’ve told you to turn around, but maybe neither of us was meant to. so, we continue with our backs to each other as if our paths hadn’t just crossed, as if our lives weren’t changed forever, yet not as if we’d never be the same without each other.” i wrote that one after watching portrait of a lady on fire. like call me by your name, the ending of that movie resonated differently with me, and i took the portrait concept and my own experience with her and mixed them together to write a little paragraph.

“you could have told me to go to hell and, if that’s what you wanted, i would’ve done it without hesitation.” after rewatching faking it, a similar line that liam said was on my mind for many days. karma told him to go to hell, and he replied “fine, i’ll go to hell if that’s what you want” and it made me really think, that’s exactly how i feel about izzy.

“distracting myself works for a while but i always end up here.” self explanatory. i was probably more upset than usual when i wrote that.

“i think things should be easier from now on. thank you for giving me the closure i needed, and i hope the future is bright for both of us--individually and together.” i wrote that after she texted me about the tik tok i made about her and we talked things out. it’s funny because i really thought things would be easier. things got so much harder, and i was visibly upset the few days after that. that night kind of did nothing but make me want her more, especially after she’d said she thinks about me every day and basically said moving on was hard. the fact that she had to move on at all made me rethink everything i ever thought about her because that means it was real, and she forced herself to give it up.

“it’s times like these when you remember just how temporary everything is.” just me reminiscing on november and december.

“nothing has felt right since you left.” it’s true. things have felt off, like it wasn’t supposed to happen.

“being closer to you makes it worse. it’s still you, it will always be you, and for you it will never be me and that is the most frustrating reality that i can’t face.” we were talking quite a bit then, and i wasn’t confident in the thought that she would come back quite yet.

“i may not be okay yet, but i’m closer than i was yesterday.” every day i get closer to being more okay, but healing is inconsistent, and sometimes things get harder again.

“right when i think i’ve gotten far enough, you pull me back in again.” she probably texted me asking if i was okay again, as she often does. maybe it was when i asked her if she was okay. sometimes i think it’s just her excuse to talk to me.

“i just want to relive those days over and over again. i want that feeling again, i want you and i’m desperately trying to show you that but you just don’t care and it’s killing me. everything changed when you left and i’m trying to figure myself out but it hurts having to do that without you. i don’t even know why i’m making such a big deal out of such a short time but i can’t help it and i feel pulled in two directions because i can’t decide whether to let you go or to hold onto hope because both paths seem equally as plausible and both are hurting me more than i can take. i feel weak and defeated. i feel like i have no control and that i have no choice but to sit here and do nothing as things fall apart. thanks to you, i am defeated.” it was true then, less so now. i feel like holding onto hope is way more plausible now, but i did feel defeated.

“it doesn’t even feel anymore. it’s just nothing, waves of nothingness when i think of you.” i don’t even remember what exactly evoked this response but clearly i was upset.

“i both don’t want to talk to you and only want to talk to you. it’s a mixture of pushing you away and pulling you in. every time i try to walk, something happens and it feels like i get pulled back. i just want to be free from you, free to be happy without you and be happy for you. please allow me to do that.” little did i know there was trouble in paradise.

“i’ve never had a choice. everyone else has always chosen for me, you chose for me, i didn’t have a say in it. how is that fair?” i just felt so helpless and defeated.

“yesterday i was crying over you and trying to forget about you. last night i was on facetime with you until 4:30 in the morning. you did it again, you pulled me back in.” self-explanatory. this time was different though, it cemented many things.

“maybe you should set me free, maybe i don’t really want you to” this love by camila cabello. pretty much sums up every feeling i’ve had since january 5th.

that’s it for the notes.

i am trying to forgive. i realized today that the universe, spirit is sending me the sign that i must forgive before i can get what i want. i can’t have her until i forgive her, really truly forgive her for leaving me. they sent me her knowing this was a lesson i had to learn. i can’t have what i want unless i forgive everyone, including myself. i need to forgive the world and love every aspect of it to finally prosper and get an abundance of what i want. i see that now. so, i will work on forgiveness. i will nurture my wounds.

this will be my physical speaking of it. i am working on myself, doing healthy things and actually going through with it. every day i want to go on long walks, to sit and meditate at that table i found today. i want to be everything i have always wanted to be and i am doing things to help myself achieve that.

the spirituality and intuition i am tapping into lately feels amazing. i understand the things around me, and i see the beauty in all things. i’ve gotten into tarot, astrology, meditation, manifestation, and all that good stuff lately. it feels good. i like growing into this new person. it feels like a new chapter, in all the best ways.

rae, as in valkyrae, said it regarding her breakup with michael recently. “just because we aren’t in each other’s chapter nine doesn’t mean we can’t be in each other’s chapter fifteen”.

and with that, i think izzy and i need(ed) this time apart to work on ourselves. i think we both need to forgive, and we both need to grow in order to be perfect for each other. i think there is a deep soul connection, i think she might be my soulmate, and i see now the importance of spending time apart so we can fall back together.

all is going to work out. everything is going to be okay. i see that now.

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gia2o · 6 years ago

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Because tumblr is my safe place, I have been writing on here a lot to vent. As we all know, social medias like Instagram and Facebook, everyone tries to portray their life to be this perfect, idealistic dream. And to be honest, I don’t really mind that. Those places have people on there that you know in person. Some people on there you do feel comfortable enough to tell them every little thing that goes on in your life. But for the most part, nearly all those people have no business knowing every itty gritty detail that goes on in your life. Some people are not to be trusted with that information. There are people out there that will use things you don’t want to be used against you, against you. Some of the things I see on there make it seem like people are just asking to be blackmailed, arrested or get someone arrested. It’s insane. I mean, people in the internet world do that enough already with whatever information they can gather from you already. Even made up information. But someone trying to offend you on tumblr and sending a few uncalled for messages your way because they disagree with what you post about or their jealous of you or whatever the reason may be; that to me is way more preferable than people I know in real life knowing all of my weaknesses and using that to hurt me in a way a stranger online just can’t. But on that note, I realize because I can’t vent anywhere else like I vent on tumblr, I realize I have been doing the opposite on this site than I have anywhere else. I write some of my darkest and depressing thoughts on here as if I never live a good moment. And because of how off putting I find other social media, I hardly post on the others anymore, so my writing has just been really dark, lonely, depressing stuff with no happy medium that includes some of the good I go through as well. So I decided to mention some of the things lately that I’m going through that are the things I think of that help me sleep at night, rather than the things that keep me up.

My birthday just passed recently and so many of my friends (more than I expected) hit me up to spend time with me and to take me out. I went out for drinks, celebrated Halloween. My family and I spent time together as well. And in the meanwhile, the relationship I have with my brother is one I wouldn’t trade or give up for anything. There is nothing and nobody that comes before him now. That really is a good feeling. It’s something I should have been doing long ago but I made some choices in the past without realizing the damaging consequences. But, because I have the amazing brother that I do and because he sees my efforts to repair rather than continuing to destroy, he has forgiven me. He invites me to go out with him and his friends and I actually go. He can count on me being there and he knows he has his sister back. When he’s out working and goes to grab a bite after to bring home, he calls me now to see if I want anything. He does everything to show me that he thinks about me and that he wants to make me happy. He is showing me that as long as I am who I really am and that I stop being a selfish junkie that only comes around when I need something, he will do whatever he can for me because he knows now that I have his back too. That he can call me and ask me for help and advice and I’m there. Right that instant. That I will always answer his calls and texts. He no longer has to second guess. My friends as well. I have given myself time to allow myself to have fun. To let these people that really care about me in. I am so blessed to have the friends I have. Friends that are doing great things with their life. That are good examples. That are either going to college or are just getting started with their careers. Friends that still make time for me in their busy schedules because they love me. Everytime these handful of people and I hang out, which is getting more and more often as the weeks carry on, I can’t help but think, “I did a great job choosing my friends.” All the friends I have now are friends I made in middle school or early high school. Friends that are no doubt going to be here for the long run. Life long friends that have stuck around even after I’ve disappointed them time and time again. And even though I know they will be here in the future regardless if I make mistakes, they make me not want to make those same mistakes that pushed them away in the first place again. I want to hold on to what I have because it’s so precious. One of my best friends is getting married in April and I get to be her bridesmaid. She’s getting married in Texas and I get to fly out and be there for her on her big day. I’m wanted there and that to me speaks volumes. My other best friend that will be there too, from Northern California will be right there by my side as well. A friend that has been by my side more than anyone ever has. And my other best friend, who also lives up North, now has a baby. And she wants me to a part of this littles girls life. She wants her daughter to call me “auntie”. My best guy friend who I have no romantic interest in, but is such a gentleman towards me, does everything he can to show me how I should be treated when I do get in a romantic relationship. He never calls me names. He never puts me down. He never looks at me as if I’m less than him because I’m a woman. Never. He opens doors. Treats me. And he’s just simply amazing. Any girl that ends up with him in the long run will be truly blessed. And he is the one that introduced me to so many of my close friends that are still local. Almost all of his friends that he has had as long or longer than I have been around, he has introduced me too and I have never in my life met a better fitting group of people to have myself be apart of. They are all trustworthy, reliable, fun, instrumental folks. Folks, that have found there way to my own best friend list. I never thought it would be possible to have this many close friends. I say I keep my circle small but I really don’t have to because all of these people are so amazing. I can’t believe I get to

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worshippingmendes-blog · 7 years ago

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Marked By Love - Looking good

sorry for the wait but I hope you’ll enjoy!

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 MASTERLIST

Plop.

That was the only sound that echoed through the small bathroom as he dropped his phone in the toilet. Shawn had gotten over thousands of dm’s from his picture, but only one of them stood out. And a quick look at her account had confirmed his suspicions, it was her.

The moment of shock had caused him to loosen his grip on his phone, only to see it slide out of his large hand and into the water.

“Oh fuck” he mumbled as he rolled up his sleeves and bent down. His face twisted in disgust as he finally got a hold of it, and quickly fished it up. He held it with his pointer finger and his thumb as he walked out from the bathroom, placing the soaked phone on the counter as he grabbed the rice.

“Man, what happened?” A fairly drunk Brian giggled.

Shawn shot him a death stare and mumbled a short answer.

“I dropped it into the toilet”

“You did what?”

Now it was Andrew’s time to comment on the situation and Shawn rolled his eyes.

“She sent me a message and I dropped my fucking phone into the toilet! And I really need to answer her but I can’t!”

Geoff tried to suffocate a laughter that was bubbling up inside of him at the sight of the anxious twenty-year old.

Andrew sent him a look before turning back to Shawn, who was now almost laying, spread out over the kitchen counter. It was a sight to be seen. His tall legs standing steadily on the floor while his upper body rested on the table.

“Why don’t you just use mine?”

Shawn’s head shot up and he looked at Andrew with a hopeful look in his eyes.

“Really?”

Andrew gave him a smile and handed over his phone and Shawn could almost kiss the man for saving him.

“Thank you!”

Shawn sat down on the side of the couch and quickly logged himself into Instagram, sending a few angry looks to the bowl with rice that contained his phone.

His account was blowing up from fans who wondered who the mystery woman was, to people claiming it was them. He couldn’t do anything but roll his eyes at the fame desperate girls.

As he found her message, he doubted for a second. He stared at the screen for a minute, seeing his own reflection stare back at him. This was crazy, he had wanted her for so long and now that he finally found her he didn’t even have the guts to text her back. Taking a deep breath, he accepted the message and began typing something. As he pressed send a smile made its way onto his lips.

He felt his friends buring stare on him and he gave them a confused look.

“What?”

Geoff let out a small laugh before taking another sip of his beer.

“You’re so fucked”

A relieved sigh escaped your lips as you put your bags down on the floor. They were filled to the rim with books and papers from school and were a lot to carry on one’s shoulders. Three weeks. Then you would be free.

You had big plans for your summer, including many different festivals, a vacation ,and staying up until sunrise. All were things you could not wait to be able to do again.

“Hello?” You yelled into the seemingly empty apartment and as expected the only thing that you heard back was the echo of your own voice.

With a happy whimper you melted down in the comfortable couch. Your eyelids were heavy and you fought the desire to let the sleep consume you. With a yawn you grabbed your phone and scrolled through tumblr. Reading some feedback on your latest writing and answering some asks you soon found yourself scrolling down the new posts. It was filled with pictures of Shawn, the picture. You couldn’t help but feel a little proud as you read the hundreds of comments of confused people trying to figure out what was going on.

Going into instagram, you saw the little blue arrow having a small ‘1’ over itself, and your heart skipped a beat. By the time you had gone into your dm’s, it was about to beat out of your chest. Your fingers were shaky as you pressed on the chat, reading the message a certain Shawn Mendes had sent you. You. Of all the millions and millions of girls that worshipped him on the daily it was your mark that was placed on his godlike body.

You read the message over and over again as a blush creeped its way onto your cheeks and you felt like you were walking on clouds.

“Not as good as it looks on you”

It was as the tiredness had washed away and you were now wide awake. A small green dot on his profile picture showed that he was online right now and you thought about what to write back. You weren’t the best when it came to flirting with normal guys, and what the hell do you write to your idol of years back? The tip of your tongue rested in the corner of your mouth as you concentrated on writing. You wrote a message, and erased it, wrote another one, and erased that too. A frustrated sigh left your lips after the fifth erasing.

Then something popped into your head, and you quickly pressed send. No going back now.

“I didn’t know you were so observant”

A smile came over his face as he read your message and he was quick to reply. But not too quick. He was sure to wait a few minutes before writing back to avoid sounding, you know, like you were the only thing running through that pretty mind of his.

“I guess there’s a lot you don’t know about me then”

Your stomach did a flip as you read the little grey bubble. He was certainly flirting with you, at least that’s what you hoped. So you decided to be bold

“Oh, I think I know most of it”

Shawn nearly choked on his drink, getting the attention of the rest of the boys who looked at him with confusion written in their eyes.

“You okay there Mendes?”

Shawn nodded as he was coughing, holding his thumb up to show that he was okay.

The conversation continued through the night, and even if you were running on last night’s five hours of sleep, you had never felt more awake.

Shawn’s friends had left hours ago, not seeing the point in hanging around when he was clearly busy with other things. But they were happy for him, knew how much he craved someone. Or something.

It was 3am when Shawn asked if you could share numbers instead and you had gladly accepted his offer. The conversation had picked up on text message from there and you texted back and forth for another hours, too caught up in the moment, the feeling, to even think about sleep.

Shawn walked around his apartment, now with his functioning phone, in his hands and a toothy smile on his face. That smile had been there for so long that his cheeks hurt, but still he never wanted it to go away. She was just as he had imagined her to be, maybe almost better. And even though he had only talked to her for a couple hours, it felt like they where old friends. His phone vibrated and he was quick to unlock it.

“Can I show you something?”

He replied with a short “of course”, growing curious over whatever she wanted to show him. A minute later he got a pictures sent to him. It was a photo of her arm, more exactly her wrist, and on it there was a small rose. The same rose he had on his ankle. The same rose he had seen on so many of his fans before, but this was different. This was a girl he had fallen so headlessly in love with, and the confirmation that she felt the same, was enough to make him let out a scream of happiness and run around his apartment like a little kid on christmas morning.

“Wow, that does look a lot better on you than on me”

You let out an excited giggle at his response and you realized really how screwed you were for him.

“Oh stop it, it looks better on you. Everything looks good on you”

He was grateful that she couldn’t see him where he was sitting with his cheeks as red as her nail polish.

“LOL thank you ;)?”

“You’re welcome, you know i’m right”

“Haha, we’ll see about that!! Now I want to know something about you, since you apparently already know everything about me”

“Alright, what do you want to know?”

You woke up by the sun shining through your blinds, the broken one that you had told yourself you were going to fix for the last three months. You stretched out on your king sized bed and let out a yawn, thinking back to the night before. A smile was growing on your face at only the thought of him, the guy you had fantasized about for three years, was actually talking to you, and not just in a fanfiction. The two of you had talked until you saw the sun rise and he was like no guy you had ever met before. So sweet and so caring, funny but also sarcastic at times, he had it all. For some reason you felt so comfortable talking to him, like you could tell him everything that was going through your mind or just about why pasta is the greatest thing ever invented. It just felt right.

A quick look on your phone showed that it was already 11am and you got out of your bed with a sigh. Holding your phone in a firm grip as you reached the bathroom, thinking about Shawn’s story about how he dropped his into the toilet, you made sure that the lid was down. Brushing your teeth and hair, and applying a little mascara to your tired eyes, you decided to go out for lunch. There was no point in eating breakfast at this time, and you felt like treating yourself.

As you locked the door to your apartment, your phone lit up. Putting the keys into your purse, you read the text. The text from him.

“Goodmorning!! I’m tired”

The three words was enough to lighten up your entire mood and you walked on clouds to the elevator, where you sent him a text back, that was going to make him feel just the same.

You had three things you needed to do. Eat lunch, return two books to the library and go look for a new dress. The library thing was the first thing to get crossed over considering that it was located only down the street from your apartment. Your plan was to go get a dress right after, but the aggressive sounds your stomach ḿade left you changing the order.

Arriving at your favorite sushi place, you let out a happy sigh as you saw the bright colored signs in front of it. It was located next to a 24h- gym and that had made their opening hours pretty generous and as a college student, you appreciated that. The familiar bell made a soft sound as you entered the small restaurant and the workers welcomed you happily. You ordered the same thing as you always did and you gave them a smile as they handed you the plate.

You turned around to go find a place to sit but accidentally bumped into a tall guy behind you. The soya sauce spilled all over his grey shirt and wanted to sink under the ground and disappear.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I-I’m so clumsy I-” You started and looked up to face him for the first time when a familiar pair of brown eyes met yours.

Shawn. He was dressed in a a pair of black gym shorts and a tight shirt, like he was just coming from the gym. His curls were pulled back with a headband, a heaband you had made at least five appreciation posts for. He towered over you, and you realized that you never actually understood how tall he really was.

He looked just as surprised as you did, and you stood there as two fools just staring at each other. He shot you a sly grin that made your cheeks hot as he looked down on his shirt.

“So, do you really think I look good in this?”

Taglist ( send an ask if you want to be added/removed): @nervousroses @t-i-n-y-d-i-n-o @oyesmendes @justmesadgirl @wronglanesassholeshawn @yourwonderbelle @hunshawnmendes @ultrunning @myownplacex @maryjanerose @thinkaholicer @musiic-is @vnv21

#shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes #shawn mendes fandom #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes blurb #marked by love

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