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bucky-hues · 3 years ago

Text

stucky fic recs

here are some stucky fic recs! as always, be sure to read the warnings for each fic <3

one shots

finding home | @thedamageofherdays

cap steve x modern bucky

After he is caught in a terrible rainstorm while hiking, Bucky is glad to find shelter at the cottage Steve shares with his daughter and his dog. Bucky ends up finding so much more than just a safe place to spend the night.

x | @dreadlockholiday

steve x bucky

Request: Bucky looking through a glossy magazine and saying something like "God, can you imagine being paid for just looking cute?" And without thought Steve replies, "you'd be a millionaire" and Bucky just blushes furiously while Steve's all like 😳 *oh no, I just said that out loud*

x | @dreadlockholiday (18+)

steve x bucky

Bucky finds his BFF Steve's sketchbook... and it's full of nothing but sketches of Bucky... naked.

sweethearts | @musette22

steve x bucky

Steve confesses his feelings to Bucky using sweethearts

my moon, my man | @musette22 (18+)

steve x bucky (modern au)

AU meet-cute. Strangers on a Train, but with less murder and more sexual tension.

make it till you fake it | AggressiveWhenStartled (AO3)

steve x bucky

“Ned,” Peter said, like a drowning man sighting land. “Ned. Captain America and the Winter Soldier are fake dating right now and it is the most painfully awkward and obvious thing I have ever seen, all of us want to die, Ned.”

things my heart used to know | Nightwing11 (AO3)

steve x bucky

In a world where soulmates can communicate telepathically with their partners, Steve Rogers has always had Bucky Barnes with him, a calming voice in a sea of turmoil. And, when Bucky falls off the train during World War II, Steve experiences deafening silence for the first time.

Now, after crashing a plane in the Arctic to save the world and being frozen for 70 years, Steve’s still trying to figure out how to live without Bucky there. His new friends are trying to help him adjust, to move on. And he thought he was doing better, he really did.

So, why is he suddenly hearing Bucky’s voice again?

catfish | @buckmebxrnes (18+)

steve x bucky (modern au)

Steve Rogers is a famous movie star, known for his role as Captain America. Bucky Barnes is a bored law student who drinks too much wine. Bucky gets on match.com to boost his confidence. What he doesn't expect is a guy using Steve Rogers' pictures on a dating profile. Bucky decides to mess with the guy. After all, what idiot uses Steve Rogers' pictures on a dating site?

Not like it's really him, right? Bucky may need more wine.

let's go have fun | @sebastanbucky

steve x bucky

“Nat wanted me to-” Nat clears her throat and he rolls his eyes. “I wanted to tell you something.” He looks at Steve with a look he hopes says ‘play along’. “Okay. What did you want to tell me?” Bucky has to take a deep breath to keep from laughing again, it helps with his performance as Nat nods encouragingly at him. “I’m gay.” He says, making his voice sound shaky and weak.

the way you came around | sokaless (AO3)

steve x bucky

After a while, Bucky says, “You know, this song sounds like it was written for you.” “That's funny,” Steve remarks. “I chose it because it reminded me of you.” Steve gives Bucky an iPod full of his favourite songs from the 21st century to help him deal with his nightmares. Bucky has a new mission- to find out who Steve is in love with, because there are a few too many unrequited love songs on that iPod.

stuck on you | wearing_tearing (AO3)

steve x bucky (modern au)

“Bucky? You don’t look so hot.”

Bucky makes a tiny little sound in the back of his throat, only to start coughing. Of course he doesn’t look hot. He’s sick and he’s dying and Steve obviously isn’t attracted to him.

you have the place next to my place | justanotherStonyfan (AO3)

cap steve x modern bucky

prompt: “We live in adjacent apartments and our bedrooms are on opposite sides of a very thin wall and one night I heard you crying and talked to you through the wall” AU

Captain America helps the Vet next door.

you’ve got (30) new matches | williamkaplans (AO3)

steve x bucky

When everyone finds out Steve's bi thanks to Bucky's recovering memories, Natasha kicks up her match-making into high gear. Steve has zero luck, but Natasha won't give up, especially when Sam (jokingly) suggests online dating. It isn't long before Steve finds someone, a someone who seems eerily familiar.

perfectly right wrong number | melonbutterfly (AO3)

cap steve x modern bucky

It all starts because Steve is too dumb to handle his smartphone.

A wrong number AU in which Bucky Barnes doesn't enter Steve's life (meaning: Bucky wasn't born until the eighties, but Steve is still Captain America) until Steve accidentally dials the wrong number. Wherein there is a lot of texting, some advice via Natasha and Darcy, a bit of pining, and a first date in an amusement park. Oh, and on top of being a disabled veteran, Bucky is a professional catwalker. Literally.

put your number in my phone | MacksDramaticShenanigans (AO3)

steve x bucky (modern au)

Steve tucks his phone back into his pocket and turns back to the computer. He only has to click a few times before he finds the link to the questionnaire and opens it, inputting the participant number before hitting next. The beginnings of the consent form fills the page, and all Steve has left to do now is wait for the participant— one James Barnes, according to the website— to show up.

Thankfully, Steve doesn’t end up having to wait very long. James Barnes shows up ten minutes early and knocks on the door before cracking it open and peeking in.

“Oh, hi,” he says, when he spots Steve sitting at the desk. He pushes the door open all the way and steps into the room just as Steve spins in the chair to face him.

“Um, I’m, uh, a bit early, but I’m here for the decision making study,” James continues, clear blue eyes flickering around the room before landing on Steve again. The skin between his eyebrows crinkles up a little, and god, Steve probably shouldn’t find his uncertainty as cute as he does. “Am I in the right place?”

wouldn’t it be nice | MacksDramaticShenanigans (AO3)

steve x bucky (modern au)

"You are never going to believe what just happened," Bucky bemoans, shaking his head. He's at Steve's side in a moment and doesn't bother to give any warning before he dramatically falls into Steve's lap. Steve just barely manages to save his book from getting squashed.

"What is it?" Steve asks, matching Bucky's dramatic tone. "What am I not going to believe?"

"I just got off the phone with Natasha," he starts. "She cancelled on me!" Bucky throws his arms up, nearly smacking Steve in the face in the process.

Steve carefully places his hand on Bucky's forearm and lowers it away from his face.

"You're kidding," he says, a frown curving onto his lips at the news.

"I wish I was," he sighs. Bucky presses his lips together into a disappointed line and deflates against the back of the couch, slinking down Steve's thighs a little. "Who goes to Coney Island alone? How pathetic is that?"

Steve snorts, earning a glare from Bucky, and pats Bucky's thigh. "Aw, don't be such a sourpuss, Buck," he says. "Who said anything about going alone?"

all jokes aside | darksknight (AO3)

steve x bucky

"Before we know it Banner’s gonna be makin’ insinuations.” (Everyone "jokes" about Steve and Bucky being in a relationship until, eventually, they admit that they are.)

barnes & rogers and the goddamn truth

steve x bucky (teacher au)

There are three well-known facts at Shield High:

1. The history teacher Mr. Barnes is a stone-cold terror, and it’s not even because he only has one arm. 2. The other history teacher, Mr. Rogers, is a mysterious enigma, and it’s something to do with the body of a Greek God and contradicting stories of his past. (They’re all rumours, anyway.) 3. Mr Barnes and Mr Rogers hate each other.

Bucky wouldn’t have it any other way.

in the shadows | DragonWannabe (AO3) (18+)

steve x bucky

Five times they thought they were almost caught, one time someone found out, and one time they didn't have to hide.

OR:

Bucky and Steve grew up in a time when people like them went to jail.

single and looking | Jaiden_S (AO3) (18+)

steve x bucky

"Bucky held his place with his index finger and turned the magazine over to check the date on the cover. It was brand new, just out this month. An unexpected cord of anxiety tightened in Bucky’s chest. Single and looking? Frantically, he flipped back to the article. What exactly was Steve looking for? According to the article, Steve’s dream girl should be intelligent, altruistic, well-versed in current events and have a wicked sense of humor. Oh, and he had a thing for high heels and red lipstick. Bucky’s stomach churned as he re-read the article. Was that really what Steve wanted? Make-up and stilettos?"

A slightly sappy tale of two utterly besotted super-soldiers who excel at miscommunication.

these american dreams (ain’t no white picket fences left for me) | kariye (AO3) (18+)

steve x bucky

In which Bucky has a house, a dog, an herb garden, and a serious case of insomnia. Welcome to Havensport, Indiana (population 8,294), where Tom’s Neighborhood Grocer stays open all night, little old ladies call the car shop to get their refrigerators repaired, and the heat of summer days and the length of summer nights can make you think that this perfect world will last forever.

i’ve been careless with a delicate man | paraxdisepink (AO3) (18+)

steve x bucky

Steve lets SHIELD think he and Bucky were boyfriends so they’ll let him see the Winter Soldier in medical.

knock on wood | 74days (AO3)

steve x bucky (modern au)

Steve Rogers lives a quiet, steady life, until his next door neighbour moves in and starts having incredibly energetic sex every night. All Steve wants is for him to move his bed away from the wall so the damn headboard doesn't knock a hole through his wall.

progressively bigger keys | spinawren (AO3)

steve x bucky

“A very little key will open a very heavy door.” ― Charles Dickens, Hunted Down

Steve and Bucky, it appears, have less need for a key and more use for a battering ram in trying to come out of the closet.

(The one where Steve tries to do one thing (one thing!) without causing a national ruckus, but the press are determined to see Bucky as Steve's best friend. And nothing more.)

stucky discover gay rights | Alicia_Borealis (AO3)

steve x bucky

“Then, why-” Steve stopped himself and looked at Bucky, who had tears rolling freely down his cheeks. “We’re- we’re not sick?”

“Wait, what?” Tony asked.

“Being a homosexual, it isn’t… wrong?”

The story of how Steve Roger's loved and lost Bucky, then how he got him back and then how he realised he was allowed to love him after all.

thursday nights with bucky barnes | Ellessey (AO3)

steve x bucky (modern au)

Steve has a comfortable, well-worn routine for his Thursday nights, until the old man who runs the laundromat breaks his hip.

Then Steve has Bucky instead.

to seek a nood-er world | jehans (AO3) (18+)

steve x bucky

Send noodz

Steve has been staring at his phone for the last six minutes, eyes narrowed so much they’re almost closed at this point, trying to figure out what the hell Bucky means. Noodz? What the fuck are noodz?

Listen, Steve is at least marginally aware of modern pop culture. He’s heard of nudes — not that nudes are exactly a modern invention; artists have been creating them for millennia — and he does know that people tend to misspell words to be cute or funny. They did that when he was young, too. Because time is a flat circle, apparently.

But, wait—does that mean…?

No. Not possible. Bucky isn’t asking Steve to send him…nudes.

Right?

tied ‘round your throat | sleepypercy (AO3) (18+)

police officer steve x serial killer bucky

Steve's a small-town police officer trying to track a serial killer who's been in Steve's bed the whole time.

much tattoo about nothing | Deisderium (AO3) (18+)

cap steve x modern bucky

Steve Rogers gets a lot of email requests, but never one like this: James Barnes wants to use his healing factor to practice tattoos.

Turns out tattoos give Steve boners.

the perfect man | Ellessey (AO3) (18+)

steve x bucky (modern au)

Setting up a dating profile is decidedly not in Bucky's skill-set, but against all odds he manages to connect with someone who makes the one-night stand he thought he wanted feel like not nearly enough.

kiss me and take off your clothes | steveandbucky (AO3) (18+)

steve x bucky (modern au)

Steve Rogers is dared to send a dick pic to a blog which critiques dick pics (run by none other than Bucky Barnes). Hilarity ensues.

i can’t dare to dream about you anymore | steveandbucky (AO3)

steve x bucky (modern au)

Steve considers himself to be a pretty open-minded guy, which is why he can't quite understand why he feels so uncomfortable whenever he sees his gay roommate kissing guys. He's not homophobic, but how else can he explain the way his stomach twists at the sight?

It takes him a while to catch on.

exam room b | steveandbucky (AO3)

modern steve x nurse bucky

“Wait, what do you mean he asked for me?”

“He asked if the cute male nurse with the ponytail was working today. I assume he meant you.”

kickstart my heart | Kalee60 (AO3) (18+)

doctor steve x modern bucky

Bucky’s Wednesday wasn’t off to a great start. Not only did he wake up in a hospital with his annoyed best friend staring down at him, his treating Doctor just happened to be way too familiar, and the reason for that was slightly mortifying.

With misunderstandings in the air, a snarky nurse who is a pain in his butt and the ugliest neck brace known to man attached to his body. There was no way his Wednesday was ever going to improve. Could it?

you make me feel.. | kalika_999 (AO3) (18+)

cap steve x modern bucky

All Steve wanted was to take a breather, decompress after a mission and go out for a jog in the rain. He wasn't expecting to hide out in a bookstore filled with new and used books or that the employee that worked there thought he was an absolute loser and didn't even realize he was insulting Captain America.

nothing in the world that could stop it | rainbow_nerds (AO3) (18+)

steve x bucky (modern au)

Bucky just wanted to send his best friend a picture of his cat being an idiot while he was taking a bath. Was it really his fault for forgetting the full length mirror right opposite the tub?

rescue me and hold me in your arms | 74days (AO3)

steve x bucky (modern au)

Bucky is on the worst date of his life, and what he really needs of for this waitress to get the message he's sending her with his mind to rescue him. She doesn't, but she does send someone to extract him from a night of torture...

odd ways | peterbparker (AO3)

steve x bucky (modern au)

“And it would have been an amazing night with my son if he wasn’t distracted by the hot guy on the other side of the room,” Sarah sighed, shaking her head. “He’s been looking over at you for the past fifteen minutes.”

Bucky choked on the mouthful of beer he had just taken.

“What?” he croaked. Things were starting to make a little more sense now.

“Right?” Sarah said, waving her hand towards her son. “He completely ignored my garden stories because he’s been making eyes at you so I decided to come over and introduce myself.”

series

rare is this love (keep it covered) | @musette22 (18+)

cap steve x modern bucky

It’s 2014. Captain America has been out of the ice for three years and is trudging along, saving the world and trying to get used to living in the future. Steve thinks he knows how the rest of his life is going to pan out – a life of duty, which he chose when he signed up to be Erskine’s science experiment. But then, he meets Bucky Barnes: the out-of-this-world-gorgeous mechanic and war vet, who turns Steve’s life upside down and makes him question everything he thought he knew. Slowly, Steve comes to realize there is more to life than duty and punching Nazis. Just one problem though: how on earth does a 96-year-old virgin who only just realized he may not be entirely straight make the transition from crush to relationship? Cue healthy amounts of self-doubt, awkward flirting, pretty blushing, existential crises, emotional growth, and maybe, possibly, a sexual awakening.

coming up easy | @musette22 (18+)

steve x bucky (modern au)

“Listen, I was just thinking,” Steve says, his face open, eyebrows raised in a tentatively hopeful expression. “Why don’t you come stay at my place for a while? I’ve got an office that I barely use, and a change of scenery might do you good, right? Help you beat that writer’s block?” With a crooked smile, he adds, “I promise I’m not a serial killer.”

While Bucky would normally crack a joke about how that’s exactly what a serial killer would say, right now, all he can do is blink at Steve in surprise, heart tripping over itself in his chest. Steve wants him to come and stay at his place. In Massachusetts. Just the two of them.

"Oh," Bucky croaks. "I- Wow."

“I mean, no pressure,” Steve says hastily. “Totally fine if you don’t wanna. I just thought I’d offer, in case it might help, y’know?”

“Yeah.” Bucky ignores the little voice in his head that sounds an awful lot Nat and Becca, telling him he’s setting himself up for heartbreak. “I mean, if you’re sure, that would be amazing.”

4 minute window | @cesperanza

steve x bucky

"Look, if they catch me," Bucky muttered, "they're either going to kill me or they're going to put me in a box with a little window and—Steve, I can't."

swapped | writeonclara (AO3)

steve x bucky (modern au)

if u wanted my number u couldve just asked

u didnt have to steal my whole phone ;)

Steve stared down at his phone, confused. He didn't recognize the number – except, oh wait, he really did. That was his number. On his phone.

He flipped the phone over, then slid one hand down his face. Not his phone.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

[stupid fucking] brooklyn hipster bros | relenaflanel (AO3)

steve x bucky (modern au)

Bucky's mother gives him an ultimatum. Bucky doesn't respond well.

All Barneses are stubborn assholes, Steve observes, as though he doesn't see the irony of calling someone else stubborn. Or an asshole.

And Bucky can't even deny he is a total asshole for lying to his mother about dating Steve just so he doesn't have to bring someone else to her wedding, but damn if he's not going to give the lie everything he has.

brought to brightness | eyres (AO3)

cap steve x modern bucky

Army veteran Bucky Barnes has fallen in love with Steve, a guy he met online a few months after he returned from Afghanistan. Only problem is, he doesn't know Steve's last name or even what he looks like.

When his sister helps him send his story into MTV's Catfish, he's hoping they can help him meet Steve or, at least, let him move on with his life if Steve isn't real. Little does he know, Steve and Captain America have more in common than just a first name.

slide to answer | relenaflanel (AO3)

steve x bucky (modern au)

"What do I do?” Steve appealed into the phone. “I’m freaking out.”

There was silence on the other end of the line. It lasted so long that Steve pulled the receiver away from his ear and frowned at it. Pay phones were old. Maybe this one wasn’t working despite the obvious dial tone when he picked up.

“Ok,” a stranger’s voice said over the phone. “First acknowledge the fact that you dialed the wrong number, but be quick about it because my cab is a few blocks away from my own plans and I’m about to drop some truth bombs on you.”

how to woo the winter soldier | writeonclara (AO3)

steve x bucky

“I think I’m ready to date again,” Steve said.

“What,” Natasha said.

“What?” Clint said, lowering his binoculars. He blinked at the dumbstruck look on the Captain’s face, then followed his gaze to where he was staring dopily at—at the Winter fucking Soldier.

“Steve, no,” Clint groaned.

Or: Steve courts the Winter Soldier.

all these things that i’ve done | @not-withoutyou

steve x bucky

Steve was the patron saint of waiting too long. Bucky was atoning for his sins. Maybe they’d both been forsaken, abandoned by the light. Maybe they’d find a way back to each other again.

Post civil war, if things had gone differently.

find a way (to make it back home) | belwrites (AO3) (18+)

steve x bucky (college au)

Fresh off a year abroad, Head Resident Assistant Steve Rogers finds his senior year of college to be full of changes, and he's not just talking about the growth spurt. He's more concerned with the fact that his best friend...isn't talking to him? Is dating his ex? May or may not be missing an arm?

In which Steve has no fucking clue what's going on, but he's trying, Bucky learns how to communicate with his best friend again, and everyone quietly panics about the future.

is it pretending if i already want you? | OhCaptainMyCaptain (AO3) (18+)

steve x bucky (modern au)

Based on prompt: Pretend Boyfriends AU where one of their families is always wondering why they're never in a relationship, so the other offers to pretend to be their boyfriend for some family event

the roommate | layersofart, Niitza (AO3)

cap steve x modern bucky

In which Steven G. Rogers, a.k.a. Captain America, gets a roommate. Who rapidly turns into his "roommate"—in the euphemistic sense of the word.

It takes SHIELD and the rest of the Avengers an absurd amount of time to notice.

dear mr. postman | odetteandodile (AO3)

steve x bucky (modern au)

Steve and Bucky revive an old friendship, get married (but totally just as friends, for reasons), and navigate a few of the many trials of the heart that come with falling in love with your best friend.

fate will play us out | steveandbucky (AO3) (18+)

cap steve x modern bucky

Bucky has landed himself a job with Stark Industries. He doesn't know yet that the job is actually being the PR manager for the Avengers.

Bucky has also started dating Steve Rogers. He also doesn't know yet that Steve is Captain America.

Bucky's life is about to get a whole lot more exciting.

the avengers hate club | notebooksandlaptops (AO3)

pop star steve x modern bucky

Bucky falls hopelessly for Steve and starts an Avengers hate club with the lead singer of the Avengers.

songbird | chicklette (AO3) (18+)

modern steve x musician bucky

At 43, James Barnes is a washed up old man. He’s got a dozen Grammys in the hall closet, an agent that can’t get him a deal, a decade-old case of writer’s block, a moody teen-aged daughter, and the gorgeous actress Natasha Romanova for an ex-wife. Well, one of them anyway. He’s a man who’s given up on finding joy in his life, and if it wasn’t for his kid, he’d have probably found a way to quit the world a long time ago.

Enter Steven Grant Rogers, struggling twenty-something, orphan, and someone who has no idea who Barnes is, other than some musician his mom liked a lot. The two men meet by accident, doing nothing more than passing the time in a quiet bar. But when a pap gets a shot of the two men embracing, Bucky takes it as a chance to finally come out as bisexual, and his agent makes him a proposition: Ten new songs and one very sweet boyfriend will get him a new record deal that will maybe, just maybe put him back on top.

Now all he has to do is write the songs, convince the kid, and not fall in love. Should be easy, right?

the right partner | LeeHan (AO3) (18+)

cap steve x ws bucky

Steve meets a beautiful man with a bright laugh on a sunny day in Italy. Captain America meets the elusive Winter Soldier moments later.

Date Bucky Barnes. Defeat the Winter Soldier. Bring down Hydra. How hard could it be?

#stucky fic #stucky fic recs #steve x bucky #steve rogers x bucky barnes #stucky #bucky barnes #steve rogers

141 notes · View notes

barry-j-blupjeans · 3 years ago

Note

Blupjeans and 5!!!

5. “are you flirting with me?”

(general/fluff prompt list - accepting!!)

((sometimes u just wrote 1k+ of blupjeans and their mental illnesses and that's ok))

If Barry was being honest, he had never been the best at keeping his thoughts to himself at inopportune times. It got better, with the ADHD pills. Today, unfortunately, he had forgotten to take them. Along with the rest of his meds. Today was a mess. He had been staring at his lab work for the last fifteen minutes, while Lup worked on something next to him. His mind was- wondering, at best, focusing on Lup, at worse.

Lup was so- gods, she was the best. Barry didn't have many friends before Lup and her brother showed up. To be honest, he didn't have many friends after they showed up, either, but once they had gotten past their differences, Barry had never met someone he liked more. Friendship-wise and, well, romantically.

Barry was- he was a walking disaster, in his humble opinion. Half the time he was running late to school, the other half he was there so early that school didn't start for at least a few hours. He was a good student, he had decent grades and he could function pretty well by himself most of the time. He liked to stay after school because getting work done at home just wasn't the same. He couldn't motivate himself there.

Most of his friends opted to go home. Lup liked to stay sometimes. Barry liked Lup. It all worked out.

He had thought... okay, well, he had thought he was being subtle about it. He thought he had been able to keep his act together pretty well, despite the fact he had had a crush on Lup for the last five years. Or more. Probably more.

His friends had broken the news... not so gently to him a few months ago. Meaning that Taako had literally hit him in the head with a book when he tried to bluff his way through "not liking Lup" and Magnus hadn't stopped laughing for a whole thirty minutes when he had insisted Lup "didn't like him back".

She did. Apparently. According to Lucretia and Magnus and Taako, who probably knew her the best out of all of them. Then he spent another thirty minutes listening to Taako bemoaning about having to put up with Lup's crush on Barry. Their little meeting had ended with them insisting that he make some kind of move with her because she probably wouldn't reject him.

He got word from Magnus that they had had the same exact conversation with Lup, too. They were both "too fucking stupid" to make a move on each other, though. Barry assured him that they would talk.

It had been... nearly six months.

And he forgot his ADHD pills today.

"Are you flirting with me?" Barry asked, breaking the silence of the otherwise empty lab room. Lup looked up from her work (AP physics, maybe-?) and stared at him. It took Barry's brain a second to catch up with what he had just said.

"Not right now!" he rushed on. "I- fuck, uh, I- okay, so. Taako and- they talked to me. A while ago and were like, "Hey, Barry, stop being so fucking dumb about liking Lup!" and I was like, "hey, that's none of your business!" and then Taako said you liked me too, but I was just like, y'know, that's Taako just trying to get me to do something stupid for- for a joke.

But they've all been like- weirdly insistent on it? Even Lucretia, who, uh- I don't think she or Magnus would do anything mean-spirited like this, most of the time, which makes me think they're being serious- not that Taako is mean spirited, he's just more-" Lup was staring at him. "...eccentric. With how he shows affection. Sorry."

Lup... wasn't staying anything. The grip she had on her pencil had loosened considerably and he watched as it fell onto her paper. He swallowed tight, panic seizing up in his chest. This was maybe- okay, this wasn't the best way to talk about it, yeah. She was- Fuck, okay, he-

"Sorry," Barry said, looking away finally, even though it still feel like her eyes were burning through him. "Right, sorry, I, uh, I should go, and-"

"Barry, wait," she said and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to cry. He also didn't take his anxiety meds this morning. What was the point of his fucking pill caddy if he didn't remember to take his pills-

"You're not fucking with me, are you?" she asked. "You really- uhm. You like me too?"

"Yeah," Barry choked out, eyes still shut. Was his heart pounding because of anxiety, or the tension, or- "I should go," he said again, standing up. He stood up, eyes trained to the ground, and Lup caught his arm.

"Deep breaths," she said and Barry sucked in a one that maybe was too deep. She let him sit back down, hand going from holding his wrist to holding his hand. He was sweating. Was that gross? That was probably gross.

"I forgot my pills this morning," Barry said, trying to make it sound like a joke.

"I know," Lup said. "You said during lunch. Babe- Barry, just focus on your breathing, okay?"

"Okay," Barry said, doing that. He shut his eyes again, but his mind was still jumping up and down at the fact that Lup was holding his hand. He didn't know why, she had held his hand many times before, especially when he was anxious. It was just- it was different now after he had actually confessed to her. Did she feel required to do this? He didn't want to make her uncomfortable.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" Barry asked, finally, finally looking at her. She was looking at him, too, carefully. That was her Thinking Face. Barry swallowed.

"No," she said. "I'm processing some things."

"Sorry," Barry started.

"No because of you," she assured him. "Well, I mean- it has to do with you, but in a good way. Taako told me that I was being stupid about... not telling you that I liked you. Because you liked me too? And I was being dumb?"

"You like me too?" Barry repeated. Lup let out a little breathless laugh, nodding.

"Yeah," she said, squeezing his hands.

"You're not fucking with me?" Barry asked, just to make sure. She smiled at him like the sun.

"Never with something like this, babe, I promise," Lup said. "I was... nervous. About telling you. Like I'm confident and badass and stuff-"

"Yeah," Barry agreed.

"But still got this little friend called abandonment issues, so, y'know- it's- it's hard to like... talk about feelings with people. Even if I know they probably won't, uh. Do anything bad, on purpose."

"I- I might screw up sometimes," Barry said honestly because it was true. "I'm trying my best to not fuck things up, I promise, but I... really like you, Lup."

"I really like you too, Barry," Lup said. "Can I- I don't know if I wanna, uhm. Y'know. Kiss you yet. But can we... try a date. Maybe?"

"If you want!" Barry said. "I- whenever's good with me, I just- I mean, preferably on a day when I remember to take my meds, but-"

"Yeah," Lup said. "Yeah, of course, babe, just- I'll text you the dets, later. Is that okay?"

"Yeah," Barry said. "That's- that's great, yeah!"

"And can we... not tell anyone yet," Lup said, finally looking away from him. "I mean, like- I don't want to fuck things up and then have to tell everyone everything went badly. Not that I think it'll go badly."

"No, I- I get that," Barry said, nodding. He squeezed her hand. His heart was doing a little dance in his chest. "I really do, Lup, I understand. We can talk about like... conditions and stuff now, or-?"

"On the date," Lup said, "would be better, I think. I've still got math shit to figure out."

She looked over at her homework with disdain. Barry's brain kicked back into gear.

"Oh yeah," he said, looking down at the genetics worksheet he had. "I- this slipped my mind, my bad."

#lup #barry bluejeans #blupjeans #mine #asks #sgrumby #ise cube writing #ft barry and lup with literally every mental illness I have /j

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omegas-spaghettios · 3 years ago

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An open letter to Kylo Ren and Bo-Katan fans, from a Crosshair fan

Very light TW, mentions that I was at one point depressed and anxious, no more detail past that but I did want to give a fair warning.

I want to start off by saying that I'm not happy I had to learn this lesson from experience and am pretty embarrassed about some of what I have said to y'all, but I want to admit that is how it went just to be authentic, you know?

Being a fan of Crosshair has been hard on this site. Now it isn't a "real problem" so don't come at me with that, but it still really sucks to want to go talk about a character you love and get hit with waves of negativity. Especially after the release of S1E15 of TBB, I have been called a Nazi so many times and it's so frustrating. Crosshair is a villainous figure. He has done awful things. I don't agree with him. But i see the best in him and hope he can achieve it. Now undoubtedly some fans of him have been awful, saying that he is 100% right in EVERYTHING and that he truly is superior. It's been so frustrating to see that minority of our little corner of our community get spotlighted and blown up to represent us all.

I have historically not been kind to you guys. Kylo not as much but especially Bo fans, you can go back to posts the day of Mando Season 2 finale and probably find me saying some really rude stuff about Bo, going through the tag and just going off on any positive post about her and being so rude to her fans. And then with Kylo fans I did judge you all for the longest time, doing what I have hated being done to me, seeing the worst of you guys and assigning it to everyone.

Bo, Kylo, and Cross have all done some undeniably awful things, but a lot of Cross fans acknowledge that and still hold him accountable in our heads, we agree that he needed to be stunned and that his rhetoric is harmful. And I'm sure many of you fans acknowledge that Bo indeed helped the organization that killed her sister and was out of line with Kenobi, that Kylo did indeed kill 6 planets, like we all know these things but I try to see the good and believe in Cross, and I never extended that to you guys.

A few months ago I was really down and realized that part of it was how negative I am. Now, this doesn't work for everyone with depression or anxiety, I just was feeling desperate because nothing was working, so i tried to just be positive about something. Again, this doesn't work for everyone and everyone's path is different, if someone tells you you HAVE to do one specific thing to get better than they're dumb. Anyway, I looked for something I hated in my life that I can try and change with little consequence, and I ended up on Bo. I watched all of her episodes in TCW, Rebels, and Mando with the explicit goal of trying to love her. Now I never did get to love her, but I think she's really cool and is a flawed character just like every prequel era character and that she is a definite positive in Star Wars.

So after a reblog I got on a post from @sleepyowlet bemoaning the hate for Crosshair fans that said Kylo fans got this too, it clicked for me. This isn't just a Crosshair fan thing, fandom arbitrarily picks villains who you are "allowed" to like and absolutely just harass you if you don't pick the "right" ones. It's so frustrating seeing Anakin, Maul, Thrawn, and Kallus getting love on this site for YEARS then loving my character gets me attacked, and that's probably how all of you have felt and I am so, so sorry that I contributed to that.

This has sucked but this is just my way to try and make someone a bit happier from all of this. So Kylo and Bo fans? You guys are awesome

#star wars #the bad batch #tbb #the clone wars #tcw #rebels #the mandalorian #mando #the force awakens #tfa #the last jedi #tlj #the rise of skywalker #tros #crosshair #ct 9904 #kylo ren #ben solo #bo katan kryze

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lnlii-archive · 3 years ago

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I think a lot about the asexuality label and what would have happened to me if I'd surrounded myself in worse of an internet echo chamber. Eventually wanting to explore liking girls is what got me out but what if I had surrounded myself with messages of 'it's okay not to want sex ever' i might never have done that. I wouldn't have had my adventures kissing girls all over campus and, moreover, because I'd never have tried girls, I'd also never have had the courage to try boys. I still think about how magical it felt the first time a girl put her hands on my bare back, and I still remember the first time I asked a girl out and planned a cute date for us, and I still remember the recoil and then the intrigue the first time a boy put his tongue in my mouth, and I still remember the way my stomach swooped the first time I made a boy moan 'I wanna be inside you so bad.'

Like it's horrifying because always in my head, even when I pictured myself as 'ace', my version of myself in my head was a bit roguish and flirty. Winks and muttered asides. And now that I'm older and I've had a relationship and I've had sex I've realized just how massively important sex is to me and how enriching sexual attraction is to my life, and sex to a healthy romance. Like to me it's really healing. It's a way that I feel really safe, and when choosing who I'm going to date it factors decently into who I actually let take me out. I like people who like sex, because that vision of myself in my head WAS me! It wasn't some dumb fantasy, it was a truer, non traumatized version of my struggling to break free!

It's really scary to think about because for me, I was a late bloomer, so I assumed since I didn't care about romance at 17 that that meant I was ace. I took the internet explanations for why I was obsessed with writing fanfiction centered on romance. 'Oh you can be ace and still like romance' etc etc. Even when I started masturbating I still accepted those explanations. That I could touch myself to pictures of a woman's thighs and still be ace. The ace label encouraged my cognitive dissonance and delayed my recovery from my trauma, and delayed my realizing I was bisexual.

People love to move the goalposts so they can belong to something and fit in their desired group but listen. If you experience the swoopy stomach thing, you're not asexual. If you masturbate, you're not asexual. If you get wet talking to someone, you're not asexual. If your heart beats faster in a good way around someone, you're not asexual. Not being asexual doesn't mean you're ready for sex! I know i wasn't ready for sex when I started feeling sexual attraction. But like it's important to just leave that door open so that one day, if you want to, you can walk through.

Like I think we really need to start a discussion on how harmful pushing these labels are. I saw a young adult book, targeted towards fucking 12-16 year olds, called 'ACE' on gr...like at what point are we going to acknowledge that all these microlabels are ultimately just benefiting the retailers that can use them to manufacture more garb they can sell to confused teens under the guise of self actualization and activism. And you can't compare it to past teen fads etc because if you were a scene kid in that day you went to concerts, if you were a prep you had bonfires in your parents yard, if you were a geek the computers kinda sucked so you still had to go to the arcade. And none of those identifiers were associated with missing out on like a core part of the human experience, nor did they encourage kids to lock themselves in their rooms and embrace social anxiety and internet addiction (who might I have been if I'd never seen a YouTube video of a young, attractive British man bemoaning his social awkwardness to an audience of millions?). None of the last generation's social niches are similar to a 12 year old proudly declaring she never wants to date or have sex and all the missed experiences that follow. When you keep repeating that stuff to yourself you believe it to be true even if eventually your gut is pulling you in another direction. You'll say no to the co-ed party with the awkward game of spin the bottle, you'll avoid school dances, you'll say no to dates, and you'll misread that twinge of regret after saying no as a twinge of anxiety brought about by 'allo' culture, and eventually 'allo' culture WILL give you anxiety. My god not to be That Guy but internet microlabel culture is making kids miss out on formative experiences in their lives and unless the internet blows up tomorrow it'll continue into adulthood. These people will grow up bitter, resentful, adult children because they were told that putting themselves in a box early was how to discover themselves, when really it prevents that very thing.

#my post #personal #digital society

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jaeminlore · 5 years ago

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If The Moon Tells You Something | Taeyong

summary: if the moon tells you something, believe it.

words: 4.1k+

category: jack frost au, rise of the guardians references and easter eggs, taeyong is a cutie, also inspired by my ocs raven, bc i love him

Fairy lights are strung across your headboard. They keep slipping off of the left corner, though, because your window is wide open. Winter hasn't been kind to your university's campus at all. Snow has been pelting the ground since the early morning.

Wind howls through the open window, rattling the pane and sending your thin, white curtains to billow out.

"This is ridiculous," you mutter. You head toward the pane and struggle to push it down, wondering why your house has to be so old; so finicky in extreme weather. Soon, your upper body is shivering from you leaning outside to brush away some of the heavy snow that had accumulated around the pane.

You can see the edge of your roof from your uncomfortable stretching. Snow falls onto your face as if it had been kicked off, so you wonder if there's an owl or a squirrel trying to make a small home for the night.

Instead, a boy peaks over. He smiles.

You shriek and back into your room, scraping your back on the wooden pane. "Ow," you bemoan quietly.

Hesitantly, you peak back out and are startled once again to see that the boy has — assumedly — jumped down to the awning just under your window. "Hello!" He greets, as if he is nothing but a casual passerby on the streets.

His dark locks are covered in white frost, and his lips are a blueish-purple. His eyelashes seem to be completely covered with icy snow. When he blinks at you, some of the melted ice trails from his eyelashes down his pale cheeks.

To you, he looks ethereal. Almost too beautiful to be human. It unnerves you, even more than him showing up unannounced in the middle of the night. "What— Who are you?"

He smiles, teeth sparkling. The air turns white when he talks. "I'm Taeyong."

You furrow your brows. "Are you trying to be Jack Frost or something? Because I'm pretty sure he doesn't scare people just before they're going to sleep!"

Taeyong is sitting cross-legged beneath your window. His elbows are perched on the sill and his chin is rested upon his palms. "Jack Frost is just a pseudonym. Like John Doe. I've been out all night doing icicle runs."

"What are icicle runs?"

"It's where I run across everyone's roof and leave icicles in my wake. It's a vital part of winter, you know." He says it so seriously, and his brown eyes glint with nothing but sincerity.

"So the legends are real?" you manage to breathe out, teeth beginning to chatter.

He laughs, and it sounds to be the warmest thing about him. "Am I going to start nipping at your nose? Maybe." He reaches out and pokes your nose.

You scrunch up your face as the chilliness spreads throughout your body. "Why don't you go bother someone else?"

Taeyong pauses. He looks almost sad. "Not many people can see me, you know? Usually just children. Really smart children who believe in myths adults struggle so hard to understand. Maybe the belief has never outgrown you."

You blink. "Maybe not."

"So I'm bothering you for now." The corners of his eyes crinkle.

You think of your assignment. An art piece on something you strongly believe in. Something abstract and realistic at the same time. Something that makes people think. Something that makes people believe what you do.

Usually, you'd be up to your chest in anxiety over such a large project, especially with it being due over winter break. However, you're snowed in this winter break, with no flights going in or out for a few days. You and your family decided it would be smart to refund the tickets and try for spring break instead.

The thought of spending the holidays alone, without your family, breaks your heart.

All this to say that you're nearly done with your project, since there's nothing better to do besides wallow around in your dorm or snoop through your absent roommates secret candy stash.

You're a bit at odds right now, wondering if the boy in front of you is real, or merely a fatigue-induced mirage crafted up from your extensive research on mythical legends and other things the majority of people tend to believe — at least to an extent.

"I'm real," the boy says. He drops into your dorm, and as soon as his bare feet hit the linoleum, a thin sheet of ice ripples across your floor, breaking apart like lightening bolts. It almost looks as if your floor is now a frozen lake, cracking to reveal the cold depths beneath. "At least, to you."

"So you're just a figment of my imagination?" You rubs your eyes. Once, twice. Then you blink. "You're still here."

"I'm not a figment of anything," he laughs. His eyes crinkle at the sides and there's a certain purity that seems to escape him in that moment. "I'm a guardian. I'm real. But only people who believe can see me."

"I didn't know I believed that much," you mumble to yourself.

A chill creeps down your spine, making you jolt in shock. You spin around, and Taeyong is just behind you, his pointer finger pressed between your shoulder blades.

"This is crazy," he whispers, more to himself than to you. "Not many people believe in Jack Frost, you know. Especially not adults."

"I'm barely an adult," you compensate. "I'm a college student. It's not like I have no wonder left in me."

Taeyong cocks his head to the side. Then he grins. His lip draw upwards into a wide, joyful expression. His eyebrows knit together, and you notice very briefly, that his eyes shine a certain hue of blue in the light. "Wonder. What a wonderful thing, huh?"

"I suppose."

Taeyong leaps back outside, and that's when you notice he isn't standing on anything. He's flying; floating in mid air with no foothold or handle anywhere.

You rush to the window and lean out, eyelids squinted as you try to catch a glimpse of him before the wind takes him away.

For a moment, you notice that he now has a staff in his hand. A long, hooked staff that resembles a gnarled tree branch of some sort. He holds it up, points it at the sky, and then he's gone.

And in his place, snowflakes fall.

"Do you believe in Jack Frost?" You ask your professor the next day. You're sitting with the old man outside on one of the many picnic tables around the campus. He's enjoying his own peaceful lunch break.

You, however, have nothing to do, and this is his last day of work until after winter break is over. You're beginning to think last night was just a strange dream, and you need someone to back you up. Therefore, your art professor.

He's one of those jolly old men who look like a mix between a mad scientist and Santa Claus. Professor Joyce, for instance, has a short white beard and bushy eyebrows that just nearly cover his friendly brown eyes. Currently, he is wearing khaki shorts and hiking boots, leaving his calves exposed to the harsh incoming winter. He's munching on carrot sticks, pondering your question with a ruddy smile. "Why? Has someone nipped at your nose?"

"Not exactly," you say, struggling to laugh at the joke that has him in mild stitches. "It's just... he's in Christmas songs, and he has like, ten movies named after him. I just wonder where the legend came from, and if it's real."

"I suppose all legends are real as long as there is belief. Who is to say that what exists in your head is not just as real as what is right in front of you? The entire system of belief begins with faith; the ability to believe what isn't seen."

"Yes, but say you did see something. Something most people don't believe in. How do you know that it wasn't a dream?"

"What did you see?" Professor Joyce narrows his eyes at you.

"Nothing," you speak quickly. "Nothing. I'm sure of it."

You wish him happy holidays, and let the man finish his lunch in peace. On your walk back to the dorm, you realize just how empty the campus is once students begin to return home. Only a few classes are left before break officially begins tomorrow, and only a few people are staying over break.

You wish you had followed your roommates lead and took your flight a week early. Lots of students had done that, after reading the weather reports and deciding it was smarter to simply miss a few classes rather than miss their entire winter break.

But no, you were dumb enough to think the storm would simply cease rather than get worse. Now you're stuck on campus looking like a fool, while only a few others mill around, matching your dismal mood.

You walk up the steps to your dorm building. The steps are coated in a thin sheen of ice, and the moment your sneaker sole steps on the last step, you slip and fall backwards. You close your eyes and brace for the impact of steps against your back, when you fall into someone's arms instead. Someone's very thin, cold arms.

"Woah there, better watch your step."

You jolt, jump out of the boy's arms and turn around. "Taeyong?" Hesitantly, you reach out and touch his hoodie-clad chest, surprised to feel solid muscle beneath it. You had half-expected your hand to fall right through.

"Questioning your beliefs again?" His voice is quiet; there's small smile on his face that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm real, y'know."

You ignore him and continue to head towards your dorm. However, instead of taking the hint, Taeyong walks alongside you, steps spritely. Once you reach your door and stop, taking out your keycard, he stops too, and leans against his staff, simply watching you. "How interesting," he murmurs.

You avoid his gaze and push into your room. "What?"

"You don't want to believe in me, yet you do. That's not usually how it works."

"I don't believe in Jack Frost," you say. You notice the way the light dims behind his kind eyes, and for a moment you wish you could take it back. "But you're here. You're in front of me, and I can't say you aren't real, because it's obvious you are."

Taeyong raises his eyebrows. "I suppose. But I'm only visible to you because you believed beforehand. So you're lying to me."

"I'm not," you say. "I don't believe in fairytales."

"Hmm," Taeyong hums. He skips towards your desk and finds your laptop, open to your last researching topic before you went to take a walk. "The Legend of Jack Frost. You believe in me."

His sing-song voice irritates you only mildly. "I don't," you insist. "I'm studying you. It's for... its for an art project."

"An art project," Taeyong settles his arms across his chest. "So I'm your muse then."

"No," you say.

"Of a sorts."

"Of a sorts," you grit out. "But I was just looking you up after last night. I wasn't planning on you returning."

"And why not?" Taeyong pouts, leaning against his staff again. "You're the only one who believes in me for, like, miles. I want to hang out with you."

"Well, I have work to do, so if you're staying, stay quietly."

"I will!" Taeyong leaps onto your roommates bed and crosses his legs. Frost trails across the mattress and up the headboard. It creeps up the wall and covers the poster of your roommate's celebrity crush. "I promise."

"Okay." You resolve that even if he is just a figment of your imagination, you should still work on your project. You pull up your design page and begin brainstorming. There are many things you believe in, but none strong enough to convince others to believe as well. Nothing comes to mind, so you sit in front of your laptop screen, chewing on the end of your stylus.

You shiver.

"Sorry," Taeyong finally speaks up. "That's the unfortunate side of being my friend: it's always cold."

You grab your blanket off of your bed and wrap it around your shoulders, eyeing the small man as he sits still, just as you asked. He looks preoccupied, touching each polaroid on your roommate's wall and turning it to frost. You wonder briefly how much lasting damage that will have on the picture. But, then again, if he isn't real, then the pictures are fine. "Who said we were friends?"

"Aren't we?" Taeyong smiles lazily. "You believe in me, and I'm starting to believe in you. That's what friends do."

"You're "starting" to believe in me?" You make air quotes. "Why wouldn't you believe in me? I'm a human. I'm real."

"I'm real," Taeyong says simply. "I'm immortal, but I'm real."

"You're not in my history book," you say.

"You're not in mine," Taeyong sticks his tongue out childishly. "But I'm in that book."

He points to the shelf on your wall. There's a book there, one given to you by your great aunt, a long time ago. It's a book passed down through generations, with legends from different cultures. Saint Nicholas, the Easter Bunny, the Sandman, The Boogeyman, The Tooth Fairy, and of course, Jack Frost. Other myths like yetis and leprechauns and the fae... anything children tend to believe in.

Anything you believe in. Or, used to believe in. Things that seem so childish when spoken aloud. Because you can't go out for drinks and discuss fairy circles. You can't leave cookies out for Santa when your roommate will laugh at you for it. You can't hide a tooth under your pillow out of fear that one morning it might still be there.

"That's from when I was a child," you say. "It's more for nostalgia than anything else."

Taeyong hums and drifts over to it, leaving a chill in his wake. He grasps the book and opens it up, He begins to leaf through it. "Usually, one who doesn't believe doesn't write notes on the things they don't believe in."

You feel your neck heat up as Taeyong trails his finger down your notes. "Why, just last year, you stuck your wisdom teeth beneath your pillow. Why would you do that if you don't believe?"

"I–" You take time to answer. "I'm not supposed to–"

"Not supposed to believe? Not supposed to have fun?" Taeyong looks concerned, closing the book and leaning in close. His face is just in front of yours, and his breath is cold against your cheeks. "Why not?"

You shrug and look away. "I don't know. It's different when you become an adult. People look at you weird if you believe in stuff like that."

"What about angels and demons and ghosts and gods?" Taeyong says, "Don't adults believe in them?"

"Those are different." You sit at your desk and put your head in your hands. "Those aren't just debate topics. They bring hope of an afterlife; of something more meaningful than life itself."

"And we don't?" Taeyong sits on your desk and closes your laptop. He leans onto his palm and circles the rim of your mug. "We don't bring hope?"

"Not to adults. Not when you start thinking about what life really means."

"What about to you?" Taeyong asks. His eyes are blown out, brown in color, but that familiar icy blue returns, creeping into his irises. He finally blinks, and frost drifts down his cheeks. "Do we bring hope to you?"

You suck in a breath and stare at him. "Yes. You do."

Taeyong doesn't return for two days, and you truly start to think he's found someone else who believes much more than you. You imagine that your heart, or soul, or wherever the belief is stored, is rather dim compared to the schoolchildren across town.

You stay on your bed, tossing a stress ball into the air and catching it, over and over again. The wind howls outside, rattling your window into opening, but you're too sad to close it. Christmas Eve is only a week away, and all flights in and out are still cancelled. The snow isn't letting up either, so you don't even want to risk walking out of your dorm.

You sigh and close your eyes. "I can't believe I'm saying this," you whisper into the empty room. "But Jack Frost, if you're near, could you come visit me?"

The wind whistles louder, and your window slams shut.

You jolt up, eyeing the window. "What the–"

"You called?" Taeyong is the in your doorway, leaning on his staff. He has a sort of shit-eating grin on his face. "I knew it wouldn't take long before you missed me."

You avoid his eyes and pick at the hem of your sweater sleeves. "I'm just... lonely here. That's all. I don't miss you, per se."

"I think you missed me." Taeyong says. His eyes shine with mirth and just as the room gets colder, you feel warmth flood your veins.

You don't deny it. "Come distract me from my project. I'm too upset to do anything productive."

You fall back down onto your bed, scooting sideways until your shoulder is pressing against the wall.

Taeyong lays down beside you. He conjures up a snowball, and begins to throw it up in the air, in the same speed that you throw your stress ball. "Distract you, huh?"

"Yeah. Anything."

"Hmm, should I tell you about me? How I came to be?"

"Yes, please," you set the stress ball down and turn on your side. You focus on Taeyong's side profile: his sharp jawline and the boyish slope of his nose. His eyelashes are still covered in frost, in an ethereal way that makes you think of snowflakes against a windowpane.

"My name is Jack Frost. How do I know that? The moon told me so. But that was all he ever told me. And that was a long, long time ago..."

Taeyong leaves after his story, but he comes around every so often after that, if just to tell you hello and ask about your project. You're still stumped, but it's easier to feel creative when he's around, so you mostly doodle sketches of him.

He continues his story every night, adding on as he remembers. You illustrate his stories, drawing rough sketches of the way he describes the elves and the easter bunny.

With each night your wonder grows, and you end up begging him to stay, if just to finish the story sooner.

Taeyong finally does finish it, the day before Christmas Eve, and you've hung onto every word. "So Pitch was defeated?"

"Yeah," Taeyong says. "I mean, as long as there is fear, he'll exist. But as long as there is belief, so will we."

He smiles at you, and you wonder if he's always been this handsome.

Christmas Eve is spent FaceTiming your family, and leaving them hints about what you've bought them. You even watch a movie with them through the screen, and you feel a lot better than you did before. They reassure you that Christmas in Springtime is most definitely a thing, and not something they made up on the spot.

You feel a bit better about spending Christmas alone.

Well, not alone. Realistically, all the other students who got snowed in will more than likely gather in the cafeteria tomorrow for cold pizza and a small gift exchange with the professors that also stayed over.

But you'll feel alone. No one you know is snowed in, and you've still got your project to complete.

You know exactly what you want to believe in now, even if your professor or peers might laugh at you.

With the radio playing a low hum of holiday music, you begin to sketch a rough outline of your project onto your tablet screen.

Your window rattles again.

You smile to yourself. "Come in, Taeyong."

You feel him before you see him by the cold frost that creeps across the windowpane and over to your feet, uncovered by your blanket. You shiver, and Taeyong finally makes himself known.

He stands beside your chair, watching you work. "It's me," His voice brightens. He leans down until his chest brushes against your shoulder.

Warmth spreads through your body just as quickly as the cold chill his skin brings. His chilly breath brushes against the shell of your ear, and you do your best not to let it distract you as you show him your project. "Yeah."

"Why?" Taeyong's voice has a sudden softness to it you haven't heard before.

"Because..." You trail off, wondering if its appropriate to tell an immortal guardian that you have a crush on him. It most certainly is, but Taeyong's eyes are a beautiful mix of brown and blue, and his eyelashes are a pretty cream color, mesmerizing as they fall against his opaque skin. "Because you're what I believe in most."

With Taeyong so close, you can hear his breath catch in his throat. "You admitted it," he whispers. "Like, properly."

"No sense telling myself any different," you conclude.

Taeyong doesn't answer; doesn't move, so you turn your head to check his reaction.

You heart lurches in your chest when you realize hes already looking at you. Your nose bumps against his. A chill spreads across your face, opposing Taeyong's cheeks, now rosy with a sort of frost bitten warmth one receives after coming into the house after a long day of playing in the snow.

You focus on his eyes. The reflection of the fairy lights behind the two of you flicker in his eyes, along with an emotion you can't name.

It disappears just as quickly, and it's replaced by a sort of serene glow. His gaze drifts down your face, landing on your lips. You bite your bottom lip nervously, and he watches action.

His hand, on your shoulder suddenly, like he's just decided he needs to steady himself. "I've never felt this warm before," he whispers.

"Does it hurt?" your lips brush against his, and there’s a jolt down your spine from how cold his lips are.

"Not really," he says, eyes closing. "It's nice. It makes me feel close to you. I want to be close to you."

His voice gets softer as he continues; the vulnerability fills your heart with affection.

"Taeyong," you hum, "you can kiss me."

Something like an expression of thanks escapes Taeyong's lips in the form of a sigh. He kisses you, lips cold and chapped against your smooth ones.

His hand stays on your shoulder, but it drifts slowly towards your neck. His nimble fingers play against the seam of your collar, and every time he accidentally grazes you skin, he pushes closer. Closer, until his chest is flushed against yours and your desk chair rolls back, breaking the two of you apart in a fit of laughter.

"Taeyong." You stand up and rest your palm against his chest. "Come here."

Taeyong nods, eyes on you the entire time while you turn him and push him towards the bed. He sits on the end almost obediently and looks up at you, eyes starry and wide.

You move your body between his spread legs and cup his face. You let the pad of your thumb brush across his jaw, cold and smooth. "You're really pretty," you say.

Taeyong blinks up at you. His lips, pale and purple, curl up into a smile. His eyebrows furrow, like he's unsure. "Really?"

You want to tell him that he's a snowflake personified. He's the sunlight on a patch of snow and the way a child lights up when a snowball in thrown. He's the cheer of a snow day and the cold nip at your shoulders when you open the front door.

You can't say it, not right now, so you bend down and kiss him again, allowing your mouth to melt against his.

His cold fingers grip the bottom of your shirt. He tugs you down: closer, closer, closer until the two of you are lying down, legs tangled together.

Taeyong stops to lean his forehead against yours, breath chalky in the warm air of the dorm. "I think I can hold off the snow long enough for you to fly over."

"What?" you sit up. "Taeyong, really? You'd do that?"

Taeyong nods, still lying down. He's smiling up at you, like you're something magnificent in a light he's never seen before. In reality you are just you, and there's a painting of him in the background, more beautiful then he's ever perceived himself to be. "As long as you promise to come back, where I — and a few extra weeks of winter — will be waiting."

#nct au #nct fluff #nct angst #nct scenario #nct scenarios #taeyong au #taeyong fluff #taeyong angst #taeyong scenario #taeyong scenarios #destwrites

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anastasiaskarsgard · 5 years ago

Text

CR NEWS Bill

Maybe if I just ignore them, they’ll go away. After five minutes, I decide this probably isn’t the best plan. Especially since they can literally see me through the window.

“MOTHERFUCKERS!” I yell as I swing open the door and my PR team hustles inside, nearly knocking my drink out of my hand.

“Are you really drunk at 10am on a Tuesday?” Melissa the lead PR tyrant asks me.

“Two guesses, first one doesn’t count. And for your information .... yes.” I giggle. I keep a steady buzz on the daily.

“What happens today?” A short red head I haven’t seen before demands.

“Who the fuck are you?” I snap.

She blushes and lowers her eyes. Good.

“Be nice! This is Mandy. She’s new, and I’m sure you remember Tristain, Melissa says gesturing towards her slim British assistant.

“So why are you here? As great as it is to catch up, I was trying to be a degenerate and you’re fucking it all up with the judging.” I say as I light a cigarette and head out to the backyard.

It’s a nice day so I think I’ll swim.

“You have that interview in three hours with CR News. The guy interviewing you is really hot too.”

I strip nude and hear Mandy gasp. I turn around and wink at her before diving in the pool. When I come back up Melissa and Mandy are whisper arguing while tristain picks at his nails.

“Has she never seen a naked woman before? I’m told I’m one of the best, so you’re welcome Mandy.”

“Girl you are out of control.” Tristain chuckles.

Mandy storms outside as Melissa turns to me, hands on hips “what did I say about nudity.”

“We are not in public.”

“Let’s add on that you can’t get nude in front of anyone you just met.”

“There goes my sex life.”

“You’re impossible! We are here to make sure you’re ready, on time and sober. That last little stunt you pulled can’t happen again.”

Of course she’s referring to the award show i went to last week in a see through dress. Considering I’m a Victoria’s Secret model, I thought showing everyone my underwear was ideal, but some of the other companies I model for weren’t as enthusiastic.

“Do you seriously think I’d go on a news program in something see through?”

She raises an eyebrow at me and smirks. “We brought you some beautiful outfits to choose from and Tristain is ready to do your hair and make-up. You just need to relax and —“

“Be you��re good little Barbie.” I roll my eyes but allow them to lead me in my house and get me all ready.

CR news is supposedly a new up and coming show. It’s mainly focused on men I think but I’m not positive. I’ve honestly never watched it. I’ve heard that the interviewer is pretty unpredictable and gorgeous which is intriguing.

We are all loaded in the limo, on our way to the studio when I realize Tristain is a liar...

“Where’s the booze? You said there was hella liquor in here, is there like a trick door or..”

“Baby girl, you’re gonna be sober for this interview. Well. Soberish.”

“I thought you were my boy blue? What happened to us? When did it fall apart?” I tease. I’m not really mad, I get it, but dammit, I really don’t have anything to take the edge off?

We pull up to the studio and my stomach is in knots. I drink for my social anxiety. Although I am supposedly one of the most beautiful women in the world, and I parade around nude like it’s nothing, it’s all overcompensating for being afraid of meeting new people. I know it’s ridiculous, but that doesn’t change how nervous I feel.

I get out and follow everyone inside, where I’m taken to a dressing room. Hair and make up people are in there waiting, but I’m already all ready so they just do a once over and tell me I have an hour till everything starts.

“This is why I’m never on time, let alone early.” I bemoan my predicament.

A cute little girl is there looking at me like I’m Jesus, so I say hi and she begins to tear up.

“Oh my god sweetie! Why are you crying?” I say as I make my way over to her and open my arms for a hug. I hate seeing people cry. “Was someone mean to you?”

“No, I just can’t believe it’s you! I am your biggest fan. I think you’re so beautiful, but all the charity work you do is so important and the media tries to make you out like this hot mess but you just don’t care what anyone thinks of you and that’s so inspiring for so many girls out there!” She says as she falls into my arms, clinging to me like a magnet.

See shit like this is why I need a drink. I can never let my fans down complaining about anxiety. When I first got in the business, one of the party girls took me under her wing and we went out, and I was so nervous I got drunk. Of course it was all captured by the paparazzi and I was forever dubbed a wild child. But somehow I am an inspiration and an expert at giving no fucks, which I do standby. so I just maintain that image, eventhough most of the time I’m terrified. Therefore I’ve been drunk pretty steady since last March. Well not drunk, buzzed. I try not to get drunk cuz then I do the dumbest shit, and a lot of it involves nudity.

“You are the cutest sweetest thing! Thank you! That seriously means a lot! Do you want some pictures or autographs?”

“Oh my gosh! Please?”

“Turn on your Instagram and we will make a story.” I mean I have an hour, might as well. The poor girl looks like she’s gonna faint. “You know what? Hair and make up, you’re here. Do her, so she looks her best and then we’ll make a cute video!”

Hair and make up shrug their shoulders and sit the girl down and get to work.

“I need a drink!” I moan.

“Water, coffee, tea, juice-“ one of the assistants starts rattling off.

“I’ll take juice if you’ve got some vodka.” I tell her, and can literally see her judging me. Yuck!

“I’m sorry but we are a smoke free, alcohol free, drug free facility. We judge sinful vices very harshly here.” She states snarkyly.

I turn around and fix my coldest glare on her, and it doesn’t take her more than a few seconds to excuse herself. Probably gonna go tell on me to my babysitters.

“My big brother probably has some.” The fangirl suggests. “He’s just two doors down on the right.”

“Ooh. Think he’ll take pity on me? What’s his name?”

She looks at me like I’m kidding, but it’s pretty clear by my clueless face, I’m serious.

“He’s Bill Skarsgard. He’s interviewing you. I’ll text him.”

She pulls her phone out and texts him, and almost immediately replies. “He says come to his room real quick.”

“Oh my God! I’m your biggest fan now.” I smile at her and quickly make my way to his door and knock. I didn’t want to be seen going in the room with him, so I wasn’t really thinking about meeting him as much as getting out of the hall. When the door opened, I rushed through and closed it, when I am sll of a sudden all too aware of the best looking motherfucker I have ever seen in my life. I’m at least six foot in these heels and he’s still a considerable amount taller than me. He smells really nice but his god damn face is almost upsetting. He’s got the greenest eyes and sharp angles from the best bone structure like he’s the damn model. His angular features are contrasted by some of the softest looking puffy lips and the cutest nose I’ve ever seen.

Before I realize what I’m doing, I reach up and boop him on the nose “boop.” OH. MY. GOD. What have I done?

He blushes and smiles and oh my fuck he’s got dimples. We just stand there smiling and staring at each other like complete assholes but my mind has been overloaded with all his fucking hotness, so I got nothing.

His phone beeps and snaps us out of our awkward staring contest. “Thank you for being so nice to Valerie. You have no clue how excited she was to meet you.”

I still got nothing. I’m looking at his hands and then back up to his face. He was big pretty hands and I wish I was in them.

“Is belvedere ok?” He asks me holding up a brand new big bottle of vodka.

I nod and watch him walk over to a little bar area and make two drinks with his beautiful big hands. They wrap around the bottle and it almost looks as though it’s not the large size bottle but it is. He puts ice in the glass and fills it half way. He walks confidently over to me, and I feel like my legs are going to give out, but I don’t show it. I’m an expert at faking self assuredness. He hands me the drink and holds it up. “Let’s make a toast to new funny beginnings. Cheers!”

I clink my glass to his and then down all the vodka in one shot. He raises his eyebrows and chuckles, taking my glass and refilling it. He hands it back to me expectantly and I take a polite sip. “Just had to take the edge off.”

“She speaks! I was getting nervous you didn’t know how to be anything but adorable.”

“That’s my job. Your job requires talking.” I want to slap myself. I sound so rude and dumb but he seems to be amused with my reply.

“Valid point. I must say though, I’m surprised. From how the media makes you out to be, I was expecting a hurricane.”

“I guess that makes you a shitty weather man then.” God damn you liquid courage, and bless you. He’s actually blushing.

“I knew it was going to be a hot one.”

“Did you now?”

“Mmhmm.” He says as he lowers his face and looks through lidded eyes at me.

Then he bites his lip and slowly releases the damn thing and for the first time in my life, I think I wanna suck a dick. Don’t get me wrong, ive done that plenty of times, but to be nice. Never have I ever thought “I wanna choke on this guys cock’ until today. I feel my face heating up as he closes the distance between us and puts his hand on my cheek locking his eyes with mine.

A little voice in the back of my head warns me that being this attracted to someone is not great but I ignore it. Fuck it.

“You are so fucking beautiful.” He breathes seductively. He sets down his drink and pulls me close, pressing his body against me. “Now we cant mess up how perfect you look or hair and make up will kill me, but when we are done with that interview, we are coming back in here and it’s gonna be really really wet.”

Gif : @billksarsgard

#bill skarsgard #billy skarsgard #bill skarsgård #anchorman bill #bill drabble #my writing

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kinsbin · 7 years ago

Text

Period Pains [McXeen]

Title: Period Pains WC: 1,712 A/N: Self Insert, Period Talk

Summary: Xena’s period comes around and it’s never fun. Jesse McCree, who hates to see her in any sort of discomfort, will do his best to make her as happy and comfortable as possible.

A/N: I’M ON MY PERIOD AND DYING. So I wrote a oneshot on McCree comforting me through it ;v;

Xena groaned as she curled herself up into a ball on the couch, the sounds of whatever baking show Food Network was blasting on repeat drowning itself against the fabric of the pillows she had built around her. The fabric and position did little to calm the pulsating and churning of her uterus as it shed itself of its internal lining. Periods were rare for her. Daily stress and anxiety always assured that the months between each one were few and far between. Three or four would pass before her body decided it was time to spill itself out against her will, but, when it did it unleashed all those months of pent up discomfort in a solid, lengthy week or two of non stop bloodshed.

Another fierce cramp assaulted her body, causing sweat to pile up as she groaned into the pillow and twirled to readjust to a more comfortable position so that the pain would grow more dim. It persisted as she knew it would. She gritted her teeth, as she always did.

The sound of soft footsteps echoed. Spurs clinking against tile and into carpet as Jesse’s heavy movements announced his arrival back to their home. Though her heart craved to greet him with a hug and kisses, her body refused each movement she tried to offer it and kept her cemented on the couch, rolling to her side with a pained huff.

She heard Jesse enter the room and startle, hurrying to her side and leaning down so he was in her field of vision. His brown eyes swam with worry, hat and serape still on to indicate the first thing he had done when he entered was look for her instead of going to take them off. It warmed her heart to know that. Well, it would have if the pain had not been overwhelmingly annoying in that moment. A soft groan escaped her lips as she pouted grumpily up at her boyfriend.

“Darlin’? Everything alright?” His voice conveyed careful worry as his hand reached out, placing itself onto her head and rubbing soothingly at her messed up locks. Xena whined and leaned into it, shutting her eyes tight as another cramp overflowed against her uterus.

“Noooooo,” She bemoaned instantly, “It’s not alright. I’m DYING, Jesse. Let me rot into the couch in peace.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at the dramatic words she exasperated before reaching up to remove his hat and place it down on the nearby coffee table. Brushing a stray hair to the side of his face, he quirked an eyebrow. “Oh that so? Better prepare a mighty’ fine funeral for ya then. Ya wanted a gold-plated coffin right.”

“Sarcophagus,” She corrected, “I want a full-on Egyptian burial. If you don’t put my important organs in canopic jars as homage to the gods who will judge me in the afterlife, I will come back from the dead to haunt your ass so hard.”

“Organs in jars, got it.” He confirmed with a nod. She groaned again and buried her face away from him.

“Seriously, though, it is my organs. I have my period finally. Just started today.”

“Oh, I see,” He nodded carefully and let his hand trail down her body. When it reached her back, it gave her spine and shoulder blades a careful, gentle pressure as he massaged her. Xena’s body shook at first, back tensing with dislike at the feeling of being touched so impromptu, but the pressure relieved the pain of her swelling muscles and, soon, she relaxed into the movements. Soft noises fell from between her lips as he continued his ministrations, leaning against the couch as she slowly uncurled herself from the ball she had been pushing into further and further. “Anythin’ you want me to do to help you out, Honeysuckle?”

The nickname softened Xena’s rigidly pained heart enough for her to chuff out a laugh. Peeking out from the pillow she was buried in, she gave Jesse a reassuring smile. As best as one could be through the pain of it, that was.

“I’ll be okay, Cowboy,” She responded reassuringly, “It’s only this bad the first couple days, I’ll live through it...Ugh, I do need more pads, though....And I would kill a man for Huevos Rancheros. Or fries. Or both. Oh man beans and fries….”

It was his turn to laugh as she slowly uncurled herself from her pained hiding and spread out before him, rolled onto her back as she looked up at him with tired eyes. He took the chance to reach out and brush her hair from her face. She leaned into his touch, eyes fluttering shut as she enjoyed the warmth of his human hand against her face. There was a fondness in his gaze that she didn’t see behind her closed lids, a soft thrum of electric love firing itself from warm brown eyes and onto her form. Even like this, writhing and complaining, she was the cutest damn thing he had ever seen. If he didn’t know better, he would have picked her up and laid her on top of him. But, he was a smart man when need be, and moving his girl away from any position she felt comfortable in was a dangerous gamble.

Instead, he leaned down closer, placing a loving kiss against her lips which she returned once the shock of the action wore away from her.

“You sit tight, Honeysuckle,” Jesse whispered once he separated himself from her, “And let ol’ McCree handle the errands, alright? Pads and Huevos coming right up for ya.”

“Jesseeee,” Xena whined worriedly, “You really don’t have to! I’m just complaining. You just got home and going back out is dumb and-”

“Hush your mouth, it ain’t no trouble,” He rebuttled with a gentle flick to a stray strand of hair against her head, smile bright on his face, “‘sides, ain’t nothing I wouldn’t do for ya, darlin. You know that, right?”

Her blush was warm on her face, matching the shade of her brilliant red hair as she buried her face back into the pillow she had been occupying. Through it, however, there was a muffled ‘okay’ that McCree could just understand. With a nod, he pick his hat up from where he left it and slid it back on his head. Xena called a soft ‘thank-you’ to him in the midst of her goodbye, and Jesse just turned to flash her a wink and a grin before disappearing once again out the door.

He came back a little around an hour later. Xena had found a more comfortable sitting position up and against the couch, a pillow tucked over her abdomen that she could curl around as she shut her eyes to listen to the commentary of the video she was watching. The channel had shifted from Food Network to what appeared to be the Discovery Channel, the ocean sparkling in the screen while a british man narrated over its wonders. She heard the door unlock and turned to look in the direction.

Jesse popped in, grinning triumphantly as he tended to do when a simple, domestic errand was completed. He loved doing them, especially for Xena. It made them feel normal. Like a family. Something he longed for but could never get. Not until he had met her, at least. Now there she was, wrapped up on their shared couch smiling brightly at him as he entered the room with his plastic bag of drugstore loot and takeout boxes. The smell of eggs, beans, and handmade tortillas filled Xena’s nostrils, making her mouth water.

Jesse put down the bags as well as a large beverage container.

“I forgot to ask what type of uh-products?-” He looked confused at the words for a moment, “You used so I kinda got a bunch of ‘em just to make sure I didn’t screw it up. There’s also Advil and that chocolate-covered biscuit treat ya like.” He takes the time to set down the takeout bag next to the soda and smiles, “One thing I didn’t mess up though! Huevos Rancheros from your favorite lil’ Mexican joint a few blocks away. Complete with Dr. Pepper.”

Xena simply stared at all of the items strewn out before her, eyes wide with shock at the lengths to which Jesse had gone in the span of an hour to ensure her comfort. Seeing her awed look, Jesse shifted in his spot from next to her, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“Is everything alright, Honeysuckle?”

“Huh? Oh! Yes, yes its-!” She smiled and laughed, turning to face him before reaching out to envelope him into a tight hug, wrapping her arms around him to drag him down with her into it. Jesse huffed in shock before laughing and returning the hug, pressing a kiss to the shoulder his face was buried in.

“It’s more amazing than I could ever imagine, Jesse. Thank-you so much for all of this,” She whispered to him with a soft sigh, “You really didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to,” He murmured, moving away from the hug to kiss her forehead gently, nuzzling himself against her hairline as he took in the scent of her soft lavender. His large arms wrapped around her to bring her into his lap, pulling them close together so he could feel her warmth. She giggled against him and sighed, shutting her eyes as the safety of his large frame encompassed her.

“What did I do to deserve such a great boyfriend…” she murmured in wonder.

“You deserve the world, Honeysuckle.” He returned, kissing her again before placing her down with a chuckle, “Now, how about we enjoy that food, hm? Wanna watch a movie?”

“Yeah...can we watch Tombstone?”

“Read my mind as always! I’ll put it on.”

As Jesse stood, a soft touch stopped him. Turning to see what else she needed, Xena’s face lit up like a beautiful string of fairy lights as she looked at him, causing a blush to spread against Jesse’s cheeks as she chewed on her lip before leaning forward to kiss his hand.

“I love you, thanks.”

And he couldn't help the grin that spread against his lips.

“I love you to, Honeysuckle.”

#self insert #self ship #selfinsert #selfship #KaiCree #kinley writes

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sincerely-sophie-soliliquie-blog · 6 years ago

Text

It’s a celebration

Life can be so bleak sometime - so gray and icky and stale. So this year, I’m resolving to find more reasons to celebrate. Does that mean hosting more craft nights and movie nights and vegan potlucks with my roommates? Oh, 100%. Does it mean making a big fuss about Fridays and trivia night triumphs and new months and years and moon cycles? Absolutely. But it also means celebrating the good choices I make each day rather than bemoaning the less-than-good ones.

And on this, the first day of a brand new year, I gotta say I fucking killed it. Especially considering how hideously, horribly low I’ve felt the last few weeks (months).

So here’s all the shit I did right today, because there’s nothing wrong with patting yourself on the back.

- Woke up at 7:45 to the one and only alarm I set. I changed the alarm tone to wind chimes and I gotta say, it made a huge difference. I’m proud of myself for choosing to get up and stay up.

- Opened all of my blinds first thing in the morning and let the natural light in. No more hibernating. No more hiding.

- Let my pooches out and fed them breakfast instead of holing up in my room and passing off the responsibility to someone else.

- Started the book Ben and I agreed to read together, from afar (The Shipping News, Annie Proulx). He reached the first stopping point we decided upon weeks ago, and I kept making excuses not to participate in this thing that I knew would make me feel good. And it really, really did make me feel good.

- Made my bed and tidied up my room. The book I’m reading about anxiety (First, We Make the Beast Beautiful, Sarah Wilson) recommended I try making my bed each day, as does pretty much everyone else. So I did the damn thing.

- Rolled out my yoga mat and did a 35 minute morning flow with my mom. It’s been too long since I did that, which seems especially dumb since I am fully aware of how much yoga helps me and how much better I feel when I practice consistently.

- Followed through with the plans I made with my friends last night, and even coordinated logistics with a group text. Eating tacos with my best friends from high school sure felt like a celebration.

- Didn’t beat myself up when I chose to order a taco with cheese despite my intention to recommit to mindful eating this year. I enjoyed my food and mentally recommitted afterward, promising myself I would be more intentional in my choice of nourishment when dinner came around. And I freaking was.

- Shared good conversation over a lavender latte with my friends after lunch instead of allowing the bad habit of plopping down in front of a screen, or our respective screens, in the same room.

- Ventured to the grocery store with Allie to purchase fresh ingredients for a healthy meal, despite the anxiety a trip to an oversized super market generally causes me.

- Cooked fresh, yummy Thai quinoa bowls for my whole family. We chopped veggies, plated the food in a pretty way, the whole deal. Putting time, energy, and effort into nourishing myself and the people I love was definitely a win.

- Baked magical vegan pumpkin chocolate chip buns (cookies? bread?), just because. Spending time in the kitchen, both cooking and cleaning up, felt important today - like something I need to be doing way, way more of. Also, I’m really looking forward to having one for breakfast tomorrow with my coffee. Looking forward to stuff feels great.

- Ended a day well spent with the most magical bubble bath of my life. In the dark, with a candle, a cup of tea, and a new album to listen to. I’m not sure why I’ve never actually brought a candle into the tub before but it was a game changer. I felt truly and deservedly relaxed for the first time in a long time.

- Took my medication. I really thought about not taking it, but I told myself to be quiet and then took it anyway.

- Sat down to write this.

#anxiety diary #depression diary #ocd diary

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victorianwallpapers · 8 years ago

Text

Happy Endings For Everybody!

“Nothing But A Happy Ending” Endings

(Super Long Post)

Because apparently Moffat and Gatiss can't write their way to a decent finish with literally both hands and a map...

I tried to pick longer fics, and while there is drama and angst in many of them, I tried to keep the fics with at least hopeful endings and in this case, have tried to avoid total AU's. Small world changes I've included but completely different settings have been excluded. Also have avoided WIPs.

Gen-Fic/Non-Pairing

The Green Blade

verity burns

Rated T, 75 k

As a serial killer hits the headlines, the police are out of their depth and the next victim is out of time. With faith in Sherlock Holmes at all time low, this is a case which will push loyalties to the limit.

Friendship only, lovely case fic for those of you who enjoy that.

Here Be Dragons

Winter_of_our_Discontent

Rated T, 16 k

Sherlock is Merlin, powerful, immortal, and bored out of his skull (both of them) waiting for King Arthur's return. John, on the other hand, is completely average. Sure, he's had odd dreams his whole life, and a bit of an obsession with Stonehenge, and now ravens are visiting him...but he's still a completely ordinary bloke. Really.

The King has returned, and London wakes.

Sort of Pre-Slash, I suppose, but a very enjoyable read if you like mythology.

Johnny Blue-Eyes

navigatio

Rated T, 87 k

A burglar with a conscience sends DI Lestrade something obtained in a break-in: a box of homemade videotapes recorded by a paedophile with his victims. Sgt Donovan, assigned to the case, thinks a child featured in one of the videos looks familiar...

Lovely John and Sherlock friendship in a very intense case fic, with a very nice supportive Mary, and one of the best depictions of Sally Donovan that I've ever encountered. This was incredibly depressing to read, but very well written.

Sympathy for the Devil And Mycroft Holmes

scifigrl47

Rated G, 17 k

Mycroft has always protected his younger brother, but there are some things he just can't control. Sherlock's relationship with John Watson is one of them. That doesn't mean that he's not going to try, but in the end, sometimes Sherlock makes his own choices.

And John Watson might just be a match for Mycroft when it comes to protecting Sherlock.

Can be read as friendship or pre-slash, I think, and I love any good Mycroft-centric story :)

Johnlock (of various ratings)

The Adventure of the Consulting Woman

DancingGrimm

Rated E, 39 k

“So the plan is, you have until Saturday night to make that,” he pointed at Sherlock, “look and act convincingly like a woman, so she can go and be a damsel in distress and in doing so trap a serial murderer. Have I got that right?”

This is how you write a good OC. I wanted to be Kristen's friend and have coffee together. Features John and Sherlock pranking Anderson, John getting uncomfortably in-touch with his angry side, and a Sherlock in drag – for a case, of course. Believably written case included.

Against the Rest of the World

SilentAuror

Rated E, 151 k

Sherlock has been away from London for nine hundred and twelve days and counting, and has no idea what sort of reception to expect when he finally returns. Post-Reichenbach.

This is the fic you should be reading if you crave some action-adventure and suspense in your reading. The relationship is uncertain...until it isn't, if you know what I mean. Also: Mycroft is a very good big brother.

All the Rest (of What I Want)

philalethia

Rated E, 68 k

After being invalided home from Afghanistan, John takes his therapist's advice and tries to meet people online. Specifically, he joins a fetish site, where he ends up interacting with a man called SH who keeps paying him money to perform odd tasks and seems very keen to take care of him.

Basically: slow-build daddy kink.

Hoooo-boy. Let's see, how many of my favorite things are in this story? Daddy kink, an insecure and socially awkward Sherlock, John Watson's filthy fucking mouth, bossy bottom John, generous use of sex toys, begging. What more could you possibly ask for in your smut?

Anytime

SilentAuror

Rated E, 17 k

Sherlock blinks and attempts to focus. There is a little too much vodka in his veins at the moment and it's having an unfortunate effect on his brain and retinas both. There are two Johns sitting across from him, and both of them are frowning at him.

“You're drunk,” the Johns tell him.

Sherlock blinks some more. “Says the man with Mrs Hudson's doily on his head.”

Lots of drunk sex on various surfaces, and I'm-not-gay-John trying not to give himself away. P.S. John is not actually as dumb as he looks here.

As long as it takes

PlainJane

Rated E, 14 k

Anything Sherlock wants. All night. No strings attached.

Smut, smut, smut, smut. Tasty tasty smut.

At the Edge of Desire

philalethia

Rated E, 16 k

While helping John move back in to the flat, Sherlock discovers a strap-on among John's things. He finds the discovery considerably difficult to move past.

Sherlock is so awkward and insecure throughout this entire fic, I honestly...if you want smut that makes you laugh, this is it.

Between each beat are words unsaid

darcylindbergh / hudders-and-hiddles

Rated T, 107 k

On their wedding night, John and Sherlock gift each other with the things they each said when the other could not hear, the things they each put down where the other could not see: a collection of writings that illustrate the way their love for one another has grown over the years.

You can see through the back-and-forth letters how long and how tenderly John and Sherlock have loved each other in this fic. So much angst! But the ending is very satisfying.

Cicatrice, Or: The Ornaments of Forgetting

hitlikehammers

Rated E, 16 k

In order to survive, to protect, to save his mind from the distraction, to spare his heart the ache, Sherlock deletes John Watson.

Sherlock deletes John Watson.

And then he comes back home.

A beautifully painful exploration behind how Sherlock's mind palace works, and the pain of John missing him. Happy ending, I swear!

Command Structure

221b_hound

Rated E, 49 k

Sherlock Holmes returns from his hunt to destroy Moriarty's network. He comes home to John, and at long last they start this thing between them that couldn't begin while Moriarty threatened them.

But Sherlock has returned fractured and suffering anxiety attacks. He thinks he needs discipline – the whip – to help him focus and be strong. But his problems are deeper and run back to a childhood of neglect.

John Watson is prepared to be Sherlock's Captain, but he's a doctor, too. His command style isn't about pain and subjugation. It's about care and responsibility: and those concepts go in both directions in Captain Watson's command structure.

Flavors of D/s, but this fic details a lot of the service/care aspects and throws out the punishment – with good reason. Emotional and painful. Explores the neglect and coldness experienced by both Holmes brothers, and the ways in which their parents alienated them from each other.

Common Tongues: Unassuming Brilliance

jinglebell

John may be predictably average in most things, but there are a handful of areas in which he knows he is uncommonly skilled. He can make a great cup of tea, for one. He's also good at patching folks up, putting bullets precisely where he wants them, and listening.

The one skill that John is perhaps most exceptional in, though, is language. John is a polyglot. Umm...getting turned on by a partner with foreign language skills? Yes please!

Cooperative Principle

bendingsignpost

Rated E, 56 k

As the newest instructor at St Bart's, John has been explicitly warned to never do Sherlock Holmes any favors. Too bad the sex is so good.

This is admittedly just a giant work of angst and porn. Sherlock is so slyly seductive in John's eyes that you keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, not realizing what's actually going on until the moment comes. Stay all the way through the end because you get the feeling that they're both pretty okay in the last chapter.

A Cure For Boredom

emmagrant01

Rated E, 81 k

They'd never talked about sex in the year they'd known each other. Well, that wasn't quite correct: Sherlock had never said a word about sex; John had bemoaned his personal dearth of it on many occasions.

Do I need to tell people about this anymore? It's pretty famous by now. The fic when you want smut now, but also want slow burn at the same time (I have no idea how that works, it just does).

Dear John series

wendymarlowe

Rated E, 30 k

Podfic! By bagofthumbs

Also in Spanish

With Sherlock dead, John eventually (under duress) makes a profile on an online dating site. And falls into a long-distance relationship with an enigmatic partner who reminds him of Sherlock in all the right ways. (Hint it turns out to be Sherlock.)

A sexy fic that tries to explore Sherlock and John's relationship backgrounds – and will have you sweating with anxiety about John's reaction the whole time.

echoes through time

chellefic

Rated E, 21 k

Mummy sends a trunk from the Holmes cottage in Sussex to 221B. Its contents after the way John and Sherlock see themselves and one another. A brilliantly-written crossover with the ACD version of Sherlock, very sexy and sweet.

Electrical Pink Hand Grenade

BeautifulFiction

Rated E, 67 k

Podfic! By sevenpercent

Also in Russian and French

“If Sherlock's brain is a hard drive, then these attack are an electro-magnetic pulse.” Sherlock Holmes does not do anything by half, not even a migraine. It falls to John to witness one of the greatest minds he has ever known tear itself apart, and he must do his best to help Sherlock pick up the pieces.

Sick!fic done right! I especially love Sherlock's weird pain-induced descriptions of his surroundings.

Flash Bang

mydwynter

Rated E, 27 k

The fantasy is so affecting it pulls a whimper from John's throat.

From whimper to bang. Brighter than the sun.

An emotional exploration of John realizing what he wants from his flatmate.

Gifts from the Sea series

patternofdefiance

Rated E, 19 k

One of the few fics I've ever see that contains all of the following: consensual tentacle porn, interspecies sex, and mating pheromones.

Gold Rush

ShirleyCarlton

Rated E, 71 k

John has divorced Mary and pops round to 221B one evening to find Sherlock in the middle of a case. As Sherlock tries to find the identity of a young woman's stalker, John realizes he can no longer deny his feelings for Sherlock – which then, to their befuddlement, turn out to be mutual. Shy kisses and tentative embraces ensue. But will Sherlock be able to cast off a shadow from his past that he thinks might prevent John from wanting to stay?

Yay for cool, interesting cases! Good references to ACD, too! No Mary, no Moriarty, and John deals well with Sherlock's anxiety and jealous insecurity.

A good old-fashioned happy ending

darcylindbergh

Rated E, 32 k

Podfic! By Lockedinjohnlock

And Sherlock stands there, in the middle of a Christmas market as John hums along to Silent Night, John's hand warm in his with fingertips a little gritty from the cinnamon-sugar doused churros they'd shared, and thinks, oh, that's-that's an idea, isn't it?

For Christmas this year, Sherlock wants to get John something special: something every fairytale deserves.

The softest, fluffiest thing you could possibly imagine, including Sherlock proposing at Christmas.

The Ground Beneath Your Feet

Chryse

Rated E, 68 k

Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure.

This story is filled with bittersweet angst and ends in a hopeful, happy ending. I won't spoil the rest for you.

Hitting the Water at Sixty Miles an Hour

what_alchemy

Rated E, 30 k

“You love your mother, Sherlock?”

John watched the muscles in Sherlock's jaw jump. He nodded in one sharp jerk.

“Then we're going to her party and making her happy.” John let out a resigned sigh. “As a ruddy couple, you bastard.”

Fake relationship, Mummy Holmes, and the Holmes brothers being enormous insufferable gits.

HOT DOLPHIN SEX series

cwb

Rated E, 47 k

Far from being about dolphin sex or honestly...dolphins at all, this is what happens when a great author writes Evil!Mary, and an incredibly competent John who tries to take ownership of his life.

Hounds

quietasasleepingarmy

Rated E, 21 k

Sherlock enlists John's help with a case that falls far beyond his area of expertise.

Very creepy case-fic with John realizing that his jealous and protectiveness aren't entirely platonic. Also you gotta love John going badass on the villain.

How Long?

Camerasparring

Rated E, 23 k

Not long after meeting John, Sherlock receives an email from an old acquaintance. Unfortunately, Sherlock has neglected to tell anyone he was once married. Past Sherlock/Sebastian Wilkes, emotional abuse Internalized homophobia and terrible terrible sex (none of this involves John). Sebastian is a dick and no one is surprised.

If nobody speaks of remarkable things

darcylindbergh

Rated E, 34 k

Maybe that was why: you only get the one miracle.

This fic is basically agony, but only in the best of ways.

In A Changing Age

allonsys_girl

Rated E, 15 k

Sherlock wakes up in the 19th century, with no idea how he got there.

A beautiful and tender crossover with ACD/TAB Victorian Holmes. Very slow and lovely.

Just a Kiss

emmagrant01

Rated E, 19 k

Five times John and Sherlock kissed because of a case and one time they kissed for real.

A cute adventure featuring a very BAMF John and somewhat clueless Sherlock.

Kill a Mockingbird

GwendolynnFiction

Rated T, 134 k

John had found perhaps the only way to bring Sherlock home from his self-imposed exile after TRF. He is abducted and tortured at the hands of Moriarty's contingency plan. Sherlock hears that John has disappeared and must ally with Lestrade, Donovan, and Scotland Yard to get him home.

This story is the essential definition of BAMF!John, and also shows Sherlock dealing with the very real and terrible consequences of his decisions.

Lock & Key series – can be read individually or all together

221b_hound

Rated E, 58 k

Just love and kink, my friends.

The Military Kink series

Silent Auror

Rated E, 29 k

A sweet and sexy two-part series flavored with Sherlock of the every-body-loves-a-soldier variety and watching his Captain give orders.

The Moonlight and the Frost

CaitlinFairchild

Rated E, 77 k

Podfic! By Lockedinjohnlock

“And once again, you think you know what's best for me.”

John rises from the chair, the anger and frustration and hurt overwhelming him, bursting out of every pore, and he doesn't even know for sure if it's Sherlock he's angry at, really, but the only reason he tied himself to Mary in the first place is because the person he really loved left him behind, and the woman he married once sat in the shadows above a darkened swimming pool and aimed a sniper rifle at his heart and later shot his best friend in cold blood and cuckolded him and just gave birth to a child that wasn't his and right now he just can't do this, he just fucking can't do this anymore.

This is how you write John suffering. This story is painful to read, and not recommended if you like Mary, but the ending is hopeful and the two men seem much more healed by the story's finish.

My Phone's on Vibrate For You

misslucyjane

Sherlock texts all the time. Today's different.

Flirty and very sexy, but not too angsty. Just enough sexual tension.

The napoleon

darcylindbergh

Rated E, 24 k

Halloween, 1989: John and Sherlock both have big plans for the night, but some serial killers have the worst possible time.

Fun and sexy adventure set on Halloween. Mycroft is not impressed with your shit.

Nature and Nurture

earlgreytea68

Rated M, 203 k

Podfic! By AxeMeAboutAxinomancy

The British Government accidentally clones Sherlock Holmes. Which brings a baby to 221B Baker Street.

A slower burn fic where John and Sherlock do this whole relationship thing in reverse. Move in, have baby, fall in love, get married. (Also Oliver is god damn adorable).

Never Change a Running System

Lorelei_Lee

Rated E, 54 k

Sherlock discovers his sexuality – with far-reaching consequences for John.

“John I would be grateful if you would stop staring at my penis,” Sherlock remarked into the gaping silence, without removing his empty gaze from the window.

The doctor, caught out, couldn't do anything other than swallow, loudly and with difficulty. “Believe me...you couldn't be any more grateful than me.”

A fun romp of sexual tension, smut, and comedy of errors.

The One You Win

TheUniverseWillSing

Rated G, 17 k

In which a homeless child follows Sherlock home one day, and he isn't as heartless as one might think.

The FLUFFIEST, CUTEST FUCKING- okay, okay, I'm fine. Married Johnlock and a cute little girl who loves science that Sherlock becomes hopelessly attached to.

The Progress of Sherlock Holmes

ivyblossom

Rated E, 62 k

Podfic! By cellardoor

“I had,” he said “come to an entirely erroneous conclusion, my dear Watson, how dangerous it always is to reason from insufficient data.”

- Arthur Conan Doyle, The Adventure of the Speckled Band

Or: “Wow, Mycroft, You Are Such An Unrepentant Dick”. Mary is not a villain, but also just not terribly nice, either.

Read Our Futures in the Rising Steam

xzombiekittenx Rated E, 22 k

An unknown killer begins kidnapping and vivisecting men who bear a strong resemblance to one John Watson. Lestrade wants both John and a newly-resurrected Sherlock as far away from the case as possible – and not just because Sherlock is the Met's prime suspect. But this is a case that Sherlock, still feeling out the limits of John's grief and his own guilt, can't just ignore. Very possessive Sherlock, TW for references to sexual assault and torture. Points for a well-featured Donovan!

Scotland series

snorklepie

Rated E, 303 k

Podfic! By Lockedinjohnlock

The third part of this series is still incomplete, but read the first two if you haven't already! This series really does have everything I love about fiction in general, never mind in Sherlock. Lovingly written smut, suspense, a well-crafted and interesting mystery, murder, secrets, lies, interesting side characters, humor, and life-or-death situations. The podfic by Lockedinjohnlock is terrific and if you listen, please dear god give her and snorklepie some love. I have no idea how she managed to switch between so many accents and I covet her gift jealously.

Shadows on the Wall

AraSigyrn

Rated T, 18 k

Podfic! By Lunchee

Also in Spanish.

John came back from Afghanistan psychic.

One of the best magical realism stories out there, in my opinion.

Shallow Grave

SilentAuror

Rated E, 31 k

Starts as Sherlock's plane is taking off at the end of His Last Vow. When he finds out that Moriarty is alive and that he's being recalled from his mission, Sherlock decides that he should have told John how he felt before he left. So he walks off the plane and kisses him.

Wow. Possibly the only fic that has ever made me feel sorry for Moriarty. Mary is not a good girl here.

Small Screen Valentino

DancingGrimm

Rated E, 43 k

“Oh God,” John breathed, horrified.

It took a lot to horrify John H. Watson. Worried now, Sherlock got up and stepped around the table, only to be foiled when John quickly turned the laptop so he couldn't see the screen.

“John, what is it? What did she do?”

“She put a video online...oh God...”

“What? What sort of video?”

“Our video, Sherlock! One that she and I made!”

Poor John. It really is very uncomfortable seeing him so embarrassed and ashamed of this and the real reveal over it is very sweet. And Sherlock trying to help and battling his curiosity is quite sweet.

Sonatina in G Minor

SilentAuror

Rated E, 22 k

John has come back to Baker Street, but Sherlock doesn't understand the strange tension between them, even after he begins teaching John to play the violin at John's request...

A lovely slow build to the romance with music and a sort-of case melded in the middle.

Spoiled Kitty series

philalethia

Rated E, 20 k

Stories featuring pet play scenarios in which Sherlock is John's treasured pet.

Very hot if you like D/s and pet play, for the kinkier among you. Do read story tags, some feature different aspects of the dynamic. Both men are clearly more into the caretaking portions of power play and neither are too interested in the punishment portion.

State of Flux

Atiki

Rated E, 24 k

John's marriage is over and he is finally back home (i.e. at Baker Street, where he belongs). Sherlock is awfully insecure and John is awfully hesitant, and they're both awkward idiots, of course, but they figure it out. Many First Times happen.

Honestly who the hell doesn't know this fic at this point?

Stick to the Script

thisisforyou

Rated E, 43 k

Maybe Sherlock should have guessed that asking John to pretend to tie him to the bed and shag him through the headboard – for a case – wasn't such an intelligent idea. Or, the one in which a femme fatale murder causes Sherlock and John to role-play sex. Repeatedly.

Not only grade-A kink, but one of the more odd and interesting cases in this fic.

Stood in History

philalethia

Rated E, 18 k

He discovered the ring in John's sock drawer.

It all went a bit downhill from there.

Oh dear. Sherlock anticipates John's proposal and has increasingly large meltdowns thereafter.

Synapses

theshopislocal

Rated E, 52 k

“Thrice”

“Yes.”

John blinks. Shakes his head. Blinks again. “Thhhhrice.”

“Yes.”

Is my mouth moving right n- “Thrice in your entire life?”

“Yess, John,” Sherlock growls, hissing like a snake grabbed by the tail. “Thrice, three times, twice more than once and once more than twice, a veritable triptych of onanism. Thrice.”

John discovers that Sherlock has only had an orgasm three times in his life and he finds this very interesting for some reason. Sherlock struggles with the aftermath of his time away from London and his repressed sexual urges, aided (or not?) by John. ANGST

This Doesn't Feel Like Falling

Dark3Star

Rated E, 148 k

When he fell from St. Bart's Sherlock knew he loved John Watson. John couldn't love him back (or so he thinks). Now that he's back from the dead things are back to normal...sort of. When a serial killer targets increasing high profile gay couples Sherlock is on the case. With a, possibly ill-advised, plan Sherlock and John go undercover as a gay couple to uncover the truth. Fake relationship, slow burn-ish with a very nice attached case fic. Does feature homophobic themes and graphic depictions of violence, as well as a few smutty scenes.

Vena Cava

SilentAuror

Rated E, 27 k

Sherlock has been shot in the chest; John has been shot in the heart. Though everything is broken, they do their best to heal the wounds that Mary left on them both.

Mary-as-villian story that appropriately addresses the anguish John feels at his friend's near death.

Wars We Fought, Things We're Not

blueink3

Rated M, 55 k

“Oh come, John. Could be fun,” Mycroft taunts, accompanied by an eyebrow arch he's gotten far too good at. “Besides, it's not as if it's your first time pretending to be a couple.”

Five months after John's world has fallen apart, Mycroft sends the consulting detective and his doctor on a case that neither is prepared for.

I'm a huge sucker for well-nuanced side characters and good casefics, and this delivers on both. Bonus cute baby and gut-wrenching emotional turmoil, as well as all-encompassing sexual tension. Mm-mm.

A Waste of Breath

Chryse

Rated E, 95 k

Podfic! By Aranel_Parmadil and Consulting_Smartass

John had always assumed Sherlock was uninterested, untouchable, married to his work. He was wrong on all counts. But when Sherlock embarks on a relationship, John worries that he is in over his head...and this time he might be right.

Features Sherlock/Sebastian Moran. John grows slowly into his love for Sherlock but the affection is obvious even in the beginning. His patience and fondness shine through every chapter. This is one of my favorites, and John's steadily growing concern for Sherlock's safety kept me on the edge of my seat.

What Did You Think About series

Chryse

Rated E, 30 k

Podfic! By Aranel_Parmadil

A series of excellent smut with an ending twist I definitely would not have guessed was coming.

The White Lotuses

SilentAuror

Rated E, 20 k

Podfic by Lockedinjohnlock

One day John realizes that he just isn't where he belongs, which is back at Baker Street with Sherlock. So he goes back and Sherlock, in his own way, courts him. Romance. A nice romantic-tension filled slow-burn story with some beautiful Hindu imagery thrown in.

Your Perfect Offering

CaitlinFairchild

Rated E, 44 k

“Sherlock,” John continues, careful and quiet. “I've seen your back. I know you were hurt. I don't want to pry, I don't want to cause you discomfort but...I'm starting to think something else happened there. In Serbia.”

Sherlock rolls away and sits up on the edge of the bed, his back to John.

“A great many things happened in Serbia,” he says, flat and remote. “None of them were pleasant.”

This shows a very painful and realistic view of trying to help someone you care about past a traumatic experience, while dealing with the hard frustration of feeling them push you away. Happy ending, I swear.

Mystrade

The Least of All Possible Mistakes

rageprufrock

Rated M, 118 k

Podfic! By Lazulus

If ever a people deserved tasering it's Holmeses.

Featuring an excellent Fem!Lestrade, this may literally be my favorite story in the whole fandom. I come back to it again and again, because it’s beauty is profound, but simple and comforting. Hilariously funny, witty, charming, and frank, I highly recommend getting the podfic if you aren't trying to read this on mobile. Also has a very emotional and well-written female friendship between Fem!Lestrade and Anthea. If you don't love this, I honestly don't know what to do for you.

So Full of Light

mydwynter

Rated E, 20 k

It seemed that Lestrade's salt-and-pepper hair grew in the same on his face as it did on his head. His beard was bristly, patchy, viscerally appealing in a way that had little to do with aesthetics and more to do with masculine sensuality. Mycroft stood rapt, conjuring up the rough brush of the beard against his lips without having moved an inch. His apprehension dropped away, lost behind a painful stab of want.

Christmas, when he and Lestrade had both been strong-armed into growing beards for a cause, proved to be the turning point for the whole desperate, shattering, uncomfortable scenario.

Or “Mycroft has the same crush on Lestrade that we do”. Also, if picturing Rupert Graves and Mark Gatiss with beards doesn't do it for you, I seriously can't help you.

Unlikely Connections We Make

Linpatootie

Rated E, 31 k

Greg's life has gone to the dogs. In a spectacular show of really bad judgment he tries to improve things by hitting on Mycroft Holmes.

This is just...really cute? And sweet? One of the best just plain old feel-good fics.

#sherlock #fic rec #v recs

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chriswhitewolf · 4 years ago

Text

Okay so this is really only because it occurred to me earlier today, and it's relevant to the issue of Transphobia in our society.

I will start by saying that I am not Transgender, I am CIS, and that this is something that happened to me that I feel works as a relation point for other CIS people who don't really understand the feeling of being in the wrong gendered body.

It was July or August of 2016, and fifteen year old me was on vacation with my family. My parents (mom and dad) and three brothers and I were staying at a remote cabin in the woods somewhere in California. I was starting 10th grade in a few weeks, and was excited to be in a new building (my district had 9th graders in the jr high building).

I was on a short hike with my mom through the woods around the cabin, when I brought up this topic. I told my mom that, after having spent almost a full year internally debating this (does it matter? What are the reprocussions of this?), I was going to start going by my middle name as opposed to my first. And of course, my mom asked why.

I explained that "Sydney" (my first name, which I had always gone by) didn't feel...right. It didn't feel like who I was, and it honestly caused some discomfort to me. My middle name, however, was the opposite. It fit, and I felt more like a Christine than I ever had a Sydney. There was a few moments of silence as we walked through the trees, before my mom responded.

"We've already registered you for school," she said, "So you'll have to inform your teachers of the change personally."

I beamed. So what if I had to tell each of my teachers on the first day of class that I went by Christine. I WENT BY CHRISTINE. That's what mattered, and having that be a reality was like finally having the sun rise after a lifetime of just the moon. My mom and I finished our hike and returned to the cabin where the rest of our family was. Because I suffered very severe anxiety disorders, my mom helped me break the news to everyone else.

At that time, my bothers were 17, 16, and 11. Other than my explaining again that Christine was just who I was, and Sydney didn't feel right or comfortable, that was that. Of course, we acknowledged that none of us would suddenly switch and never call me Sydney again, but I said as long as everyone tried to remember, and didn't get angry when I (or another family member) gently corrected the name, it was just fine.

So, a few months later I'm in the middle of first semester of my Sophomore year of high school. I'd told all my friends, teachers, and any classmates who didn't know, that I was Christine, not Sydney. For the majority, everyone was very kind and took the news in stride. One of my friends, upon hearing the news, immediately swore to not mistake my name. Was absolutely certain he wouldn't mess up and call my Sydney, because that's not who I was. (I thought it was funny, but he went like four months before slipping !once!, And then bemoaning his mistake and apologizing overly much)

Discussions among my friends became riddled with myself or someone else correcting a friend who used my dead name. If I didn't catch the slip up quickly enough, another friend would jump in and calmly go "Christine", to which the speaker would then respond "Right, Christine, sorry" and continue.

But there was one friend (not a great friend, really), who was adamantly against the change. I couldn't understand why it was such a big deal to him that I use my given first name. This friend, just a while after I told him and everyone of the change, came up to me in private and demanded, yes, DEMANDED, that I give him a valid reason for changing it.

Now, aside from the overall "Sydney is uncomfortable and Christine is who I am" (which he said was not valid), the reason for my name change was INCREDIBLY personal. I think there are maybe four people, besides myself, who know the story behind that reason. I informed said friend that Christine was just right, it was me, and Sydney simply wasn't anymore.

He did not take that well. He told me, and I'm paraphrasing here, I mean it's been four years, "If you can't give me a valid reason, then I refuse to call you Christine. You ARE Sydney."

I was mad, of course, and disappointed in him, and also felt rather violated. What right does he have to my msot personal moments and stories? Why should I be expected to share a very vulnerable and personal experience with him before he is expected to address me as I am?

I brushed the issue off, and started avoiding him more. Every time we did talk, be it alone or in a group, he would outright refuse to use my preferred name, which I'd been going by for almost half a year at this point. So I talked to him less, and he slowly became less integrated in my close group of trusted, genuine friends.

Then he went a step further.

It was in the school cafeteria one morning, about fifteen-twenty minutes before first bell, and one friend of mine, Caleb, who wasn't really close to me but was very kind, was introducing his new friend to our group. My closest friends were there, as was the not-friend who refused to use my preferred name. As Caleb introduced this new girl to me, I held out my hand with a smile, and shook her hand as I introduced myself.

"I'm Christine, it's nice to meet you!"

She responded likewise with her name, when not-friend pushed his way between our handshake with these words, which I will never forget.

"She's not Christine. She THINKS she's Christine. She's Sydney."

Like da fu?? I'm sorry, but I spend a full YEAR debating on how people might react to the name change and agonizing over not wanting to be yelled at or ridiculed for it, and I've now been using my name for half a year. Sydney is my dead name, it's not my name. But here you are, with your stuck up attitude and ludicrous ideas on your entitlement into my personal life, interrupting my introduction to inform this new friend that I changed my name, SIX MONTHS AGO, and that Sydney is my dead name.

And I know this is long af, but here's another short thing from that year to think on. I was in band class when a boy, who I'd never talked to and who's reputation wasn't great, came up to me as we were putting our instruments away. In short, he clarified that Christine was not my name at birth, and then asked,

"Isn't that disrespectful to your parents? Changing the name they gave you?"

But he said it in this "I'm right and you're being dumb and rude" tone. To diffuse the situation, I responded with two things.

First, I told him it was my life, my name, and I had no obligation to my parents, who chose my name before I had become who I was. They chose a name that had no basis on who I was as a person.

Second, I was unnecessarily kind in telling him that Christine was, in fact, my given middle name, and that my parents had no issue and had never had issue with me using it, because they understood that I was my own person, not their puppet. (I didn't actually add that puppet part cause that would've been very passive agressive and might've started a verbal fight.)

But here's my point. If you were born with a name that, as you grew, you started to hate. A name that made you uncomfortable every time someone called you by it, wouldn't you want, and actually need, to change that name?

Would you willingly choose to go by a name that sent a cold chill of 'ick' down your spine everytime you were called it? For life?

Probably not. If you were that disturbed, that uncomfortable, with this name, you'd feel like you had to change it for your own sake, sanity, and comfort/happiness.

That's how I see Transgender people as feeling. Again, I don't have personal experience with being Transgender, and this is just my understanding of that feeling.

But can you image, that you were so uncomfortable with your name that you change it to something that doesn't set off those feelings, only to have like half of everyone you meet (parable statistics here, don't quote that as a transphobe number) tell you that you can't use that name because it wasn't the one you were given as a two-hour-old infant?

Can you imagine how you'd feel if you went through life with people screaming at you that you are not your chosen name? That you are and will always be the name you were given at birth? That you have no right to ask or expect people to give you the basic decency of using a name that doesn't make you feel gross in most senses of the word?

That's what's happening in our society with Transphobia. People are out here on social media and in the streets, screaming at people that they are not themselves and cannot be themselves, because that wasn't who other adults decided they were at birth?

The child was like two hours old, it couldn't even SEE. Babies do not actually have the ability to see things that aren't very, very close to their faces until a good while after they're born. (I believe the number was about two weeks, but I'm not sure and don't want to research it just for this.)

But totally different people, who are not this person and at the time had no knowledge of who this person really was, gave the infant a name that, *gasp*, they don't absolutely love twenty years later.

That Trans person was born with a genetic code that gave them a kind of genitalia before they were even born. They couldn't see, they couldn't think, they'd never even taken a breath. They were, by complete chance, given that specific chromosome set. That doesn't mean they'll grow up to be that chromosome, or to be defined by that, or to not be incredibly uncomfortable being referred to as that gender.

They know they weren't born male or female, that's why they transition. They're perfectly aware that they will never be biologically the gender they associate as. A Transwoman knows she will never have been born a woman.

She's still a woman. Same for Transmen.

Just because they aren't the same as you, or they don't believe and feel and think the way you think they should, doesn't mean they aren't right. You aren't them, you don't know them. You can never know what it's like for them, to be them.

You can't pretened to know someone better than they know themselves just because their beliefs don't match yours. Stop telling Trans people, or any LGBTQ+ people, who they can and can't be. You aren't them, you don't know them, and you. Don't. Own. Them.

You cannot control them. They aren't your property, and they aren't your puppet.

They are themselves. And if you can't handle living in a world where every single person doesn't agree with you perfectly, then that's on you for being a jerk.

We are not meant to be the same, nor are we meant to agree on everything. That's the POINT, y'all.

Don't be a dick.

This has been a PSA.

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