#and all the publications actually make me stupider. nevertheless it's good for the resume

[ephemeral-winter]

tis the season for renewing my professional org memberships and i'm sorry but the society for american archivists is out of their minds. every other org i'm part of has very low fees for new professionals/people in my salary range/people under 30, and altogether those things won't cost me more than $100. the SAA wants over two hundred american dollars from me. absolutely not

[ghostofasecretary]

feelings sorting

how am i feeling? stressed. numb. overwhelmed. bad.

how does my body feel? floaty, cold, stiff. the floating started *after* i took my emergency anxiety meds, which is. annoying.

ok. put on socks and a jacket; that might start to help.

i haven't watered my plants in three weeks. been longer since i vacuumed, also.

haven't sent an email i need to send or a texted someone back.

i am so, so--i feel like i've just failed and failed and failed, and not just in a general "not getting what i wanted at the times i wanted it" way but in a daily "i haven't been eating food or giving myself tea or keeping my promises to myself that i would *do things to make my life better*" way.

ok. watered the plants.

i keep thinking "i want to give up" and i don't know what i mean by that. what do you mean, you want to give up? i mean i'm tired of picking myself up off the ground over and over again at both literal and metaphorical expense to fling myself at things that don't love me back. i mean i want to go to grad school but i DON'T want to tell my recommenders "haha yeah i got into [extremely prestigious institution] but didn't go because i'm too poor to afford it and too unimpressive to win the lottery that still calls itself merit-based." i mean i don't understand why i'm so tired all the time, and why doing the things i love scares me, and why studying is so hard, and why applying myself is so hard, and i keep sitting still for hours and hours and days and days and my whole WEEK went by and i hardly NOTICED because each day was the same. more or less. somehow.

Thursday feels like it didn't happen.

i don't want to skip poetry this week but i didn't prepare a single thing i was meant to and there's no point to it if i haven't prepared because i don't have the vocab i need to do this shit casually and anyways i'm past the point of doing stuff casually, i'm better at this than i used to be, i'm meant to be better

i'm so tired of myself.

backing out is easy, right? it's meant to be easy? "Hey, So sorry but I didn't make time for this thing that makes my life feel worthwhile this week, this passion project I've spent years on, the thing I feel like actually makes me interesting and knowledgeable enough to justify being a dumbass in other areas"--wow, it's nice to speak freely

i can tell i'm being crazy. i don't care. not saying it will only make me more crazy and less productive/capable of getting what i want/trapped in a cycle of Avoidance for things that Feel Bad.

my jaw's tense, my mouth's burnt, my throat is dry. drink some water. write an email.

i have, in fact, been pretty damn diligent about pursuing my goals for years. let's just--fucking--a bad month does not ruin you. a bad day does not ruin you. it's embarassing not to be prepared! it feels bad! i don't like it! nevertheless if i had the resources to be prepared i would be, and as i am not it is fair to assume i lack the resources, and my priority should be *getting* said resources so i don't *explode and die.* as it were.

placing this much weight upon my academics, on *not looking stupid,* is also very embarassing, but to be cringe is to be human and i'm stuck with myself.

listen. babe. do you think you can do poetry today? no. okay. that's fine. go communicate that like an adult.

(if i'd been that diligent wouldn't it have worked? if i'd been that diligent wouldn't i fucking have my goddamn life in order right now? ...does everyone you know who's worked hard have their just desserts for it, babe? does ANYONE? ask any of your mentors who are winning and they'll tell you it's at least half luck. privilege matters, your work matters, your character matters, and also sometimes people luck out and sometimes they don't.)

god this is excruciating.

EMAIL SENT.

i'm gonna resume this in a bit, i think, but i don't want to lost this so i'm gonna post it

ok. back at it. person texted.

i think the anxiety meds were a good call. talking to myself in public was also a good call. i wish i'd done this earlier but there's many things i might wish different and so instead i'll just be glad to be alive and moving.

i need to eat. and i need to start my grad school apps and email my recommenders politely, with respect and decency, without tearing myself down. firstly because tearing yourself down in front of others puts them in an uncomfortable position, and secondly because if you don't speak of yourself with respect you are doing an unkindness unto yourself.

oh, and i got an email about Job Onboarding. yay. (i have a job now btw, Go Me. that's not nothing. that was a significant source of stress for months and tackling it took a week, two on the outside, and soon i'll be making money and socializing more which is good for the monkey brain and improving my baseline levels of stress.)

plan:

- go to the bathroom oh my god

- eat + do dishes

- ~~account set-up~~

- schedule other job stuff

- vacuum the second half of the room

- grad school list; make/re-activate accounts; make spreadsheet of required docs and list of people to email

- make + eat dinner

- i would LIKE to a) catch up on my cards, b) Knit, and c) listen to my audiobook. and i'd like to do these things on purpose for fun. go me. let's try. if you don't get through all of Grad School List that's okay but PLEASE start in on it

(previously in q: what's up with mystery package from hell (figure out commute during lunch, change list if needed) (actually i do not care) (sent email, no response))

head hurty. back and body aches. how about i make some tea before i finish vacuuming.

update: i did not finish tea before vacuuming. i did not even start tea. things are Off The Floor which is good, but On My Bed which is less good. need to put the vacuum up also. blargh.

mystery mail situation is resolved thanks to the power of emails! huzzah.

3 hours 40 minutes after taking my anxiety meds i feel, uh, A Big Headache. tired in a drained way. i have a few things on my list left (*start* grad school shenanigizing, put up vacuum, make tea, make food (is banana bread + yogurt + fruit + seeds an adequate dinner, who knows not me. probably not given what else i've eaten lately. hush), eat food, Do Relaxation). i feel i have been more effective than i have been at improving my circumstances. i've been meaning to vacuum for actual weeks, and i managed to reorganize my bookshelf and put up some new books that have been languishing on the floor for two weeks in the process. i went through some very annoying job stuff that furthers my goal of making, like, Any Money At All this month! cancelling poetry today was fine actually. all my conversations with people were positive. i am kind of pleased with myself.

i think i may try some grad school bullshit now and THEN do upstairs taskz and then have a chill evening. maybe i will even vidya game, who knows. okay? okay!

evening update: i love approaching baking like it's cooking. instead of using a real recipe i used my two old bananas + 2 remaining carrots + bread like ingredients in quantities approximately similar in ratio and measure both to about three other recipes. it'll be a bit before i know how it tastes as it needs to cool but i'm quite pleased by the appearance, at least!

[actuallysaiyan]

Hot Love(Jiraiya x Fem!Reader)

Word count: 1,443 Pairings: Jiraiya x Fem!Reader Warnings: Slight smut, oral sex Summary: Reader has been pining for Jiraiya since she first met him when she was a genin. He’s always had his eyes on Tsunade, until Tsunade plans a mission for both of them and tries to set them up. When Jiraiya sees reader naked for the first time, he can’t believe how blind he’s been all these years...

For years, you always felt like you trailed behind the three legendary sannin. You were a few years younger than them, and both Orochimaru and Jiraiya saw you as a bother when you were a child. Tsunade was the only person who actually decided to take you under her wing, and she trained you good. You grew up admiring all three of them, but truth be told, you were absolutely smitten with Jiraiya. Even if he saw you as a bother and a nuisance for years, you couldn’t help the way you felt.

And now, years later and you’re all grown up, you still had those feelings for Jiraiya. These days he was way too busy with his books to think of you as a nuisance, and Tsunade was now Hokage. You were just a jounin, spending your days training your own team and shaping up the future shinobi. You were proud of yourself, but you always wondered what your life would be like if you had pursued Jiraiya.

One day, you found yourself in Tsunade’s office with Jiraiya by your side. The years had been very good to him, as he grew to become a very handsome and sexy older man. You couldn’t help yourself by checking him out a little as Tsunade explained to you the mission you both would be going on. Tsunade was sending you and Jiraiya to a small village to gather some intel for her about the Akatsuki. You didn’t mind that at all; in fact, you were hoping to get a little alone time with Jiraiya.

Unfortunately, the first part of the mission didn’t go as planned. Jiraiya basically ignored you as he continued to plan ideas for his next book and was quiet almost the whole way to the village. You tried your best to keep your frustrations to yourself, but you weren’t sure how long you could keep your secret feelings to yourself. It was driving you mad, and you thought for sure that finally, you were going to be able to tell Jiraiya how you truly felt.

“Don’t you think this mission is a little silly for both of us to be going on? It just doesn’t seem like Tsunade to send both of her most trusted friends and some of the best shinobi in the village to go on a simple intel mission.” You said, trying to pull Jiraiya from his perverted thoughts.

“Hmmm...maybe. But I think she trusts us the most, so it would make sense to send us. She’s got a lot on her mind lately…” Jiraiya says, and he mutters something under his breath that you don’t quite catch.

Once you get to the village, Jiraiya suggests that you both go check into the inn that Tsunade has made reservations for. You are a little annoyed by this point, but you do like the idea of retiring for the evening. You notice that there’s a sign that says there’s an onsen at the inn, so you perk up a little.

The hostess shows you to your room, and you’re not surprised to find that you’re rooming with Jiraiya. You’re a little ticked off now, but you decide to go soak in the hot springs. Your emotions hang heavy on your heart as you watch Jiraiya start flirting with some of the women at the inn. It hurts, but you don’t want to show it. You’ve got way too much pride.

In the hot springs, you are surprised to find that the women’s side is completely deserted. You’re a little relieved to have some peace and quiet, but you’re still meditating over your feelings. You wanted this to be a chance to get close to Jiraiya after all the years you spent apart, but it looks like it wasn’t going to happen after all.

Sighing, you get undressed and sit in the hot water. It feels so good on your sore muscles. You couldn’t help but admit that you were getting old, and you weren’t as spry as you used to be. It was a little embarrassing, but you knew you were still an attractive woman.

Jiraiya, on his side of the onsen, was getting undressed as well. He was very confused to find the place deserted. Nevertheless, he figures he’ll be able to peep on the women without any interruptions from the other men. This made him that much more excited, so he slinks over to a small hole in the wall. He chuckles to himself as he prepares to get an eyeful of gorgeous, young women.

Instead, he’s shocked to see you sitting alone in the hot water. You slowly get up, adjusting your position. Jiraiya can feel his blood pressure start to skyrocket, and he’s having to hold his nose so it won’t bleed. Jiraiya can’t believe how gorgeous you are; since when did you grow into such a sexy person? He’s been so blind with all these younger girls that he’s completely ignored what’s been in front of him.

He sits in the water, trying to compose himself. It’s the first time he’s seen you naked, and he fucking loves it. You’re curvy, and slinky and your legs are so long, and your tits are huge!!! What a jackpot!

Jiraiya decides to get another eyeful, and this time, you know he’s watching. You can hear his heavy breathing and nervous chuckling, so you decided to give him the eyeful he wants.

With your hands on your tits, you squeeze them together and start massaging your own body. You blow a kiss towards Jiraiya and the old man almost has a heart attack. You can hear him panting and wheezing, trying not to have another crazy nosebleed. He hears the door to your side slide open, and he’s a little disappointed he didn’t get to see more from you…

...when you show up on his side, wearing only a small towel. Jiraiya clutches his chest, backing up towards the end of the hot springs. You throw your towel away, swaying into the water as you approach him. Finally, you have his attention.

“Y-y/n, what are you doing here?” he asks, trying to be a little nonchalant.

You just walk right up to him and press your lips to his, not answering his question at all. Your hips grind into his, earning a groan from the older man. He’s rock hard and ready to fuck you, but you want to tease him just a little longer. Jiraiya pulls away from the kiss and he growls.

“How long have you been hiding this body from me?” he demands to know. He knows he’s been stupid about not noticing you earlier, but growing up together made it a little weird between you two.

“Since you never cared to pay attention to me and only had eyes for Tsuna,” you explain, tracing your fingers over the scars on his chest.

“I’ve been an idiot this whole time then,” he says, smirking at you.

You both resume your kiss, this time his tongue slides into your mouth. You can feel a warmth bloom in the pit of your stomach as you grind against him harder, hoping to find some relief from this sexual tension.

Without warning, Jiraiya places you on the edge of the hot springs. He leans in so that his face is at the same level as your sopping, wet pussy. Jiraiya groans as he smells your juices, and this is what spurs him on to start devouring you like a starved man.

He laps at your weeping cunt like his life depends on it, while you tug at his long white locks of hair. You pull him more into your pussy, whining and whimpering as he starts to finger you. You’re both unaware that you are in public at the moment, and you can feel the coil in your stomach start to become tighter. You’re so pent up with sexual energy that you’re going to cum very soon...and very hard.

“Ahem!” you hear from the door, and both you and Jiraiya break apart. You jump into the onsen to try and hide your naked body from the hostess, who is looking at both of you with a playfully scolding look.

“Please, leave the affections for the bedroom. The onsen can be hard to clean if you were to…” she says, and then she leaves you guys to get dressed.

Jiraiya is laughing, and you can’t help but chuckle a little. Then, he pulls you in for another kiss.

“How about we take this to our room?” Jiraiya asks, and you agree.

Finally, you had his attention.

[staarshines]

It’s Not All Roses Chapter 1: astra (HighSchool!AU) || P.D.

| It’s Not All Roses Masterlist |

Warnings: cursing

Word Count: 3.1k

Excerpt: “Meet Rey! She’s in our english class, remember?” You can’t believe it for a minute—Wait, was this Poe’s doing? No, he was walking up the stairs with you… You look around, seeing him walk into the row from the other side. What the hell were the odds?

[A/N]: i haven’t been on here for months but we don’t talk about that❤️ also, the pandemic doesn’t exist here. bonne lecture.

Your Sour Patch Kids and Sprite, Finn’s Milky Way and Gatorade… You look over the items in your hands once more, hurrying through the crowds of kids masked in orange and white, proudly showing off Amidala-Skywalker High School’s colors; a stark contrast to the crowd bathed in red and black on the other side of the podium.

You mentally curse yourself for even wanting to come to the Homecoming game between Amidala-Skywalker and Geonosis High—dragging Finn along with you on top of that.

If Homecoming was this overhyped, you were going to be pissed.

Lost in thought, you unavoidably manage to run into someone, wincing when you hear the crack of your Sprite can hit the ground and open.

“My bad.”

You look back up to see a cute guy looking back at you with apologetic eyes, grinning, while his wild chocolate-colored curls frame his face.

“No, you’re good. It was my fault for running into you.”

“Nah, that was me. Got a little too focused on the game.” Both of you erupt into awkward laughter, bending down to pick up the snacks now lying on the ground. “I’m Poe, by the way.”

You look up once more, breath hitching in your throat because of how close you are to him—had you moved five inches closer, your lips would be pressed flush up against his. Your cheeks heat up at the thought and you forget how to speak for a few moments, watching him hold back a smirk.

This fucker knew exactly—

“I’m Y/N,” you quickly blurt out, flashing him a quick smile and grabbing the candy and sports drink, noticing another Sprite can that Poe hadn’t picked up. “I think that’s yours.”

“No, that one’s yours.”

“Even if it is mine, I ran into you, so you should have it.”

“Honestly? I was hoping you’d say that. Rey would kill me if I didn’t come back with her Sprite.” You chuckle and nod, standing up and smiling when he motions for you to go up the steps first.

You’re thinking about where you’ve seen him on the way up to your row, realizing that he was the one who pranked a girl—you’re guessing Rey?—in your english class by removing her headphones from her laptop’s jack while she was in the bathroom. Mr. Kenobi nearly fell out of his seat when he heard “WAP” blaring at full volume.

Needless to say, she was not happy.

You slide into the row Finn is sitting in, throwing him his candy and the Gatorade bottle—the latter of which he nearly doesn’t catch, which would’ve resulted in it hitting the brunette next to him.

“Y/N! Meet Rey! She’s in our english class, remember?” You can’t believe it for a minute—Wait, was this Poe’s doing? No, he was walking up the stairs with you… You look around, seeing him walk into the row from the other side.

What the hell were the odds?

You then remember that Finn and Rey are watching you look around like a madman, snapping you back to the situation of introductions and small-talk at hand.

“Right! The girl who—”

“Whose music blared in a dead-silent classroom in the middle of our english class? Yeah, that’s me.” You chuckle slightly, nodding to her and sitting down. Poe’s gaze catches your eye and he quirks an eyebrow, tilting his head.

What are you doing here?

A quick tilt of your head in Finn’s direction, then the game’s direction. Watching the game, apparently.

Raised eyebrows and the hint of a smirk. You following me?

An eyeroll and a bit-back smile. Oh yeah, definitely.

He shrugs with a smile on his face and sits down next to Rey, and you stifle a chuckle when you see her snatch the Sprite and Airheads from him, cracking the can open.

“What, do you two know each other?” It takes you a second to realize Finn’s question is directed at you and Poe.

“I mean kinda, we just ran into each other a while ago. Oh, that’s Poe. Poe, Finn, Finn, Poe.” They exchange warm smiles but nothing more.

“Well, I promise I’m not aiding him in anything,” Rey reads your mind, winking and eliciting a giggle from you. You look over to find him scrolling through his phone, earning a slight frown from you as you resume your normal position and pop a Sour Patch Kid into your mouth, mindlessly watching the game go on. Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you lazily pull it out, checking the notification.

      Instagram Poe Dam(n)eron (@damndameron) has requested to follow you.

        You look over at him once again, finding him now watching the game. Hm, so we’re playing this game? All right. Opening the app, you accept his request and click on his profile, a bit surprised when you see that he’s private—he pegged you as the type of guy to have a public account. Nevertheless, you hit “Follow”, waiting a few moments before refreshing and seeing that he’s accepted, giving you full access to his profile.

You see about four posts and a few story highlights, but nothing out of the ordinary. You click on his most recent post, scrolling past the beach, a hot tub at a cabin, a picture of him and Rey at Pike’s Peak—was she his girlfriend?—and lastly, a picture of someone who you guessed was his mother and him as a baby. He’s standing on her feet in what looks like their living room and you can tell that they’re dancing, a grin frozen on his mom’s face while Poe flashes a toothy smile—his dad must’ve taken the picture. It was dated November 21, posted almost one year ago. Curious, you click on the comments and start reading through them.

kare_kun_ Thinking about all of you.

r.skywalker you'll always be her flyboy, poe.

snapwexley01 she’d be so proud of you, man.

j_pava  Wish she was still here with us. Stay strong, Poe.

The last comment makes it all click into place, and you feel a pang in your heart. He’d lost his mom. How long ago? He was maybe four years old in that picture. You suddenly feel so empathetic that all you want to do is give him a hug—he was a momma’s boy; you could read it right off his face. You keep the date in mind: November 21st.

“Well, we won.” You look up in a daze to see that the clock was 6 seconds away from halftime, the score being 31-9 in Amidala-Skywalker’s favor.

“How do you kick someone’s ass that badly?” you ask with a sort of wince even though you were on the triumphant side, clicking your phone shut.

“Like that, apparently,” Poe remarks, just before the halftime buzzer rings. “You guys wanna get out of here and go to the baseball fields or something? It’s a lot less noisy but you can still hear the game’s commentary.” You’re a bit surprised at his proposal, seeing as you four just met, but you’re definitely not opposed.

“Why not?” Finn responds, shrugging his shoulders. You four get up and leave the row, nearly getting trampled in the number of kids leaving their seats to either go get food or leave the game entirely.

“C’mon, flyboy, you’re gonna get lost!” Rey yells from behind you. Flyboy. Wonder where he got that nickname.

“Oh my God, please— He did not!” you laugh, clapping a hand over your mouth while giving Poe a disbelieving look.

It’s pitch black outside now and you four are bathed in the floodlights of the baseball stadium, sitting on the grass just by home base.

“There’s fight, there’s flight, then there’s complete idiocy. Guess which one Poe has programmed into his DNA.” Poe narrows his eyes at Rey, throwing Finn’s empty Gatorade bottle at her which she catches with ease.

“It’s not my fault I wasn’t thinking—”

“Thank you for admitting that.”

“—I was panicked! There was a s’more in my hand and I just threw it in the other direction!”

“While not thinking that the bear would come after you for more,” you add, watching him huff, seeing a hint of a pout on his face. “Remind me never to go anywhere near the woods with you.”

“I like her already,” Rey remarks, to which you crack a smile.

“How long have you two been dating?” you try to crack the question as casually as possible, but let’s face it: the anticipation is eating away at you. To your surprise, they both burst out in laughter—so they’re not together?

“Oh my God, I wouldn’t date Poe in a million years. I couldn’t handle being that much impulse control for him—He’s already a liability as my best friend,” Rey laughs, shaking her head.

“I— Rude. But honestly, I wouldn’t date you either. You don’t know how to have fun,” he exaggerates the statement with his hands. You smile at their banter, a bit surprised at their relationship’s similarity to yours and Finn’s. “How long have you two been dating?”

“We’re most definitely not dating,” Finn chuckles, earning a slap to the shoulder from you.

“No need to act like you’d never date me! Remember the kiss on the playground in third grade?” you ask sarcastically, the memory bringing back a bout of nostalgia.

“That was third grade! And I was dared to do it!” You laugh, throwing an arm around him.

“I mean Finn, you seem pretty passionate about making sure she knows you don’t like her,” Poe winks, earning a fake gag from Finn.

“Oh, please. She’s like my sister.”

“Literally,” you add. “I’m pretty sure I saw you more than I saw my own parents during my childhood.”

“You, Ben, Han, and Leia, yeah,” he nods.

“Ben, Han, and Leia..?”

“Ben’s our best friend. The three of us practically grew up together with Han and Leia—his parents.”

“Han and Leia like—Dr. Solo and Dr. Organa? The ones who teach at the school?” You nod, answering Poe’s question. “I don’t think they’re married—are they divorced?”

“Never got married,” Finn explains. “Just two best friends who had a one-night stand and actually stayed civil with each other after learning about the pregnancy. They raised Ben together—and us, too, basically.”

“I miss him,” you murmur. “Why’d his stupid ass have to want to go to that college prep school way over in New York, anyway?”

“Probably just to make Han and Leia proud after all they’ve done. Mark my words, he’ll be back here in a year or two. You don’t get the high school experience at a prep school.”

“Are you talking about First Order Preparatory, the big one in New York?” Rey interjects. “That’s not a boarding school last I checked.”

“Nah, he’s living over there with his Uncle Luke. I mean, we FaceTime and all, but it’s just not the sa—”

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Poe, she’s coming over here.” Both Poe and Rey scramble to get up, leaving you and Finn to do the same while you steal a glance behind yourself, trying to see who Rey is talking about.

“Run,” Poe whispers in a panicked tone; Rey grabs his arm before he can take off.

“We’re not running, genius!” she hisses, looking behind you once more. You turn around, finally spotting a blonde wearing an orange shirt and white shorts, stripes of white paint just under her eyes. “We’re walking away. Quickly. Very quickly.” You turn around, finding them nodding to you and Finn; the four of you begin in the opposite direction from whoever the blondie was.

“Who are we r—walking very quickly away from?” you ask, keeping up at a brisk pace.

“Zorii Bliss. She’s been after Poe ever since fifth grade,” Rey explains, picking up her pace.

“Just tell her you’re not interested. Simple,” you mutter, arching an eyebrow.

“You think I haven’t tried? What was this summer, the seventh time I’ve turned her down?” Poe groans, and you suddenly feel terrible. They were actually running from this girl who’d been after them for five years. Couldn’t you get a restraining order or something? “She’s been with five guys—”

“Six,” Rey corrects.

“—six guys in the past four months. All she does is play them then blame them, all while still somehow looking like the victim. The Smoky Mountains trip we were just talking about—the bear and the s’mores? You don’t know how hard she tried to get in on that trip.”

“Sheesh,” Finn starts, “someone needs to—”

“Poe!” you hear someone, presumably Zorii, call out from behind you four.

“—get the hint,” Finn mutters, and the four of you turn around to find her just maybe fifty feet away. What the fuck, did she run to catch up or something?

“Hide me,” you hear Poe whisper, and before you can ask how, he’s already crouched behind you, arms around your waist.

“Long time no see,” she calls out, sauntering now. Aw c’mon, how about you run like you were doing before? Look all desperate for the cameras?

“What—She knows you’re here!”

“But I’m not.”

“Yes you are!”

“Nope.” You start to argue with him but then stop, realizing he really didn’t want to see her.

“Aw, that’s cute.” Christ, even her voice was insufferable. She looked like a bitch, too.

You really just wanted to punch her in the face.

“What do you want, exactly?”

“Who are you, his girlfriend? Funny, Poe hasn’t really ever dated anyone.” She shuffles a bit to the side and you copy her footwork to guard Poe, watching her raise her eyebrows and laugh in disbelief. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“And you didn’t answer mine,” you quip smoothly, hearing Finn quickly stifle a laugh from beside you. She gives Finn a dirty look, and you swear you’re about to drag her from her hair right now. “What do you want?”

“I just came over to say hi to Poe since we didn’t get to meet too much over the summer,” she shrugs. “Zorii Bliss.” You don’t respond, waiting for her to make her exit. “Aren’t you going to introduce yourself?”

“Couldn’t be more bothered to.” Rey sucks in a sharp breath and you’re worried that you’ve crossed some sort of line, but your stance doesn’t waver. She rolls her eyes and blows a kiss to Poe before turning on her heel and walking away—you’re sure she’s swaying her hips on purpose.

“Damn,” Poe murmurs, getting up from behind you. “You really said ‘no, bitch’ to her.” You laugh a little bit at his statement, shaking your head.

“She just really pissed me off. Hopefully that taught her a lesson and she’ll leave you alone now.”

“We can hope. I nearly fought her in the middle school parking lot once.” Finn raises his eyebrows at Rey but you just nod impressedly.

“Y’know, we should take a picture so we have something to post on Instagram,” Poe suggests. “I haven’t posted for a while.” He’s actually one of the boys who cares about his Instagram? Respect.

“Yeah, neither have I.” You shush Finn before he can start to whine about taking pictures, but Rey seems to have the same reaction as him. “Aw, c’mon you guys, it’s just one picture.”

“Fine,” Finn drawls. “Just one.”

“Maybe two,” you add with a giggle, watching him shake his head as you pull out your phone, opening the camera. “Okay, any ideas on where we should set it? Because the four of us sure as hell aren’t fitting in a square if I take a selfie.”

“If you have a popsocket, you can try to hook it inside the diamonds of the fence.”

“Good idea, flyboy,” you test the nickname out, watching his reaction closely to determine whether you’re crossing a line. He smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling up, so you breathe a sigh of relief.

After having set your phone up on the fence—“You’re taking too long. Let me do it.” “Finn, you’re not going to have any more luck than I am.” (He, in fact, didn’t)—you press the shutter button and quickly run back to the four, throwing an arm around Finn and watching Rey neck Poe, earning a laugh from you. It’s a bit too late when you realize the picture’s already been taken, and it takes about three minutes for you both to coax Finn and Rey into taking another one. The second one turns out almost perfect, though, seeming like one of those cliché VSCO pictures that everyone posts around this time.

“Numbers,” you state simply, handing your phone to Rey. She starts adding her contact information, taking a quick selfie for her contact picture and then handing the phone off to Poe. “And give me your Instagram handles, too. I’ll tag you guys when I post.”

“You already have mine,” Poe remarks while not looking up from the phone, and you’re sure that you’re the only one who can hear the slight smugness in his voice. He hands your phone back to you and you see that he’s set the picture of his annoyed face after Rey necking him as his contact photo, which makes you giggle a bit.

After you’d sent them the pictures—Poe had named the groupchat “the avengers”, which sparked a conversation about Marvel (Finn and Poe were arguing over the best Avenger right now)—you edited the pictures slightly to make them better, uploading them to Instagram with the caption, “no friendship is an accident.”.

You four were now walking out of school boundaries towards your neighborhood—yet another thing you four discovered you had in common—but you were lost in the stars, hearing traces of the current conversation on hand (something about Asgard and the Tesseract).

“Hey. Snap out of it.” Poe snaps his fingers in front of your face and you blink, shaking your head and looking back at him.

“Huh? Sorry.”

“Staring at the stars?” he asks, looking up at the sky himself.

“Yeah. Found Ursa Major and Cassiopeia,” you point out, watching him genuinely look for the constellations, humming when he sees them too. “You like stargazing?”

“I do, actually. Have a telescope in my room and everything.”

“Oh?” You’re stepping in stride with him, completely forgetting about the other two who are also with you.

“Yeah. Y’know… you need a nickname.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“I dunno, I just think…” he looks up at the sky then back at you, grinning as if he’s figured something out. “Astra.”

“Astra?” you ask, recognizing the word to be Greek for “star”.

“Astra,” he confirms, nodding. You raise an eyebrow, but you can’t deny that you like it.

“Well, it’s not terrible.” You were understating. You kind of loved it.

“I’ll take that as a win.”

Masterlist

All taglists are open! Send me an ask or a message :)

Permanent: @becausewhyknotme, @criminal-cookies, @theladyoffangorn, @officialtonystarkprotectionsquad, @justmebeingtheweirdmeiam, @fantasticcopeaglepasta, @talk-geek-to-me, @letsmellowjello, @thescarletknight2014, @bbluespiritzuko, @brooklynsmorales, @marvel-dameron, @marvelinsanity​, @softly-sad, @yourbucky084, @mcolbz14

Star Wars: @kittyofalltrades​, @arkofblake​, @m1rkw00dpr1ncess​, @propertyofdindjarin​, @coldbreadbouquetworld​, @melvls​, @waatermelon-sugaar​, @thedevilwearsbeskar​

Poe Dameron: @yougottakeeponkeepinon​, @poe-damnnn-eron​, @lapilark​, @peterhollandkait​, @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol​, @twomoonstwosuns​, @writefightandflightclub​, @lady-sloan, @poes-stardust​, @legamelo​, @xremember-me-notx​, @imtheoutgoingsidekick-baby​, @yourbucky084​, @agents-assemble​, @asianravenpuff​, @daydreamerinadazedworld​

“It’s Not All Roses” Taglist: @marvelous-capsicle​, @fishswimbetterunderwater​, @r2fucku, @missmadwoman​

[feynavaley]

Can you write a ficlet where America is jealous of Cuba for how much he hangs out with Canada?

I hope this is close to what you wanted! 😊 (I actually think Canada still spends more time with America than with Cuba, but well... America doesn’t like sharing.)

———

Missing Piece

Alfred stretched himself with a sigh, straining his back until he felt something pop.

“Another day, another job done!” he complimented himself as he stood up from the chair.

In truth, it was only lunchtime – the conference would resume in two hours. Nevertheless, Alfred thought that he deserved some praises, world conferences were always so stressful! And that one had been particularly bad, with everybody trying to undermine him at every turn. It was high time to do something fun and brighten his day.

Fortunately, Alfred knew exactly how to accomplish that. Whistling under his breath, he sauntered towards the hall.

His objective was exactly where he would have expected him to be, fidgeting on his feet next to the door.

Alfred’s lips opened into a small smile. Matthew didn’t look as dejected as he often did during conferences, he wasn’t hunched over himself as if he wanted to disappear. However, Alfred knew how hard being in such a high-stress and crowded environment was on his little brother. He would surely welcome a break – and even more, he would welcome Alfred’s company.

“Hey, Mattie!”

Hearing the greeting, his brother turned and reciprocated with a nod and a smile. Alfred’s mood was already soaring. Conferences were boring and often felt like a useless waste of time, but making his brother happy? That was the opposite of useless, it was an accomplishment that always made Alfred feel better.

“So, how hungry are you? I saw a burger joint not far from here that looked quite promising, I think we should give it a try and—”

“For lunch?” Matthew interrupted him, his forehead furrowed.

Alfred rolled his eyes internally. He didn’t understand why his brother would always be so surprised that he wanted to spend some time with him – they were brothers, for crying out loud! – but he had enough experience to know he couldn’t change that. Besides, he couldn’t deny that the way Matthew’s eyes lit up any time he realized Alfred wanted to include him was quite gratifying…

“Of course! It’s lunchtime now, so we’re having lunch!”

As he was accustomed to doing, Alfred grabbed Matthew’s forearm to steer him towards the door – only to be met with unexpected resistance.

“Oh! Al, I’m sorry, you didn’t tell me anything about having lunch together this morning…”

Alfred frowned at the apologetic tone in his brother’s voice and gave his arm another tug.

“Well yeah, I don’t see what—”

“So I’ve already made plans,” Matthew concluded. His free hand rose to detach Alfred’s fingers from his forearm, gently but with firmness.

“You have other plans?”

That didn’t sound like Matthew at all. Maybe it was some sort of joke… but Matthew looked serious, even if not regretful enough.

“Uh, yeah. I’m really sorry about this… If you want we can have dinner together, but right now I’m going with Carlos and— ah, there he is. See you later!”

Without wasting another second, Matthew walked towards the approaching figure of Cuba. Alfred was left staring at them, his mouth agape.

This has to be a joke…

But Matthew greeted Cuba with warmth, a genuine smile on his face. His voice was lively, his eyes bright… Alfred couldn’t believe his eyes.

Yet, as he witnessed the two walk outsides and then down the main stairs, the situation didn’t change. Matthew even threw his head back and laughed at something Cuba said.

Something unpleasantly bitter stirred inside Alfred’s stomach. He was the only one who made Matthew laugh with such abandon, that was just… wrong.

Not to mention, Matthew would never look so at ease with somebody he didn’t know well. Whatever… that was, it had to have been going on for a while now.

Trying to ignore the cold ball growing in his chest, Alfred grabbed his phone and scrolled through Instagram. He had never even thought about following Cuba, but he was sure that somebody like Romano did… and true to his prediction, there was Cuba’s profile. It was public, too. Without thinking, Alfred clicked on it.

The first swipe down was like a punch to the chest. Not even ten pictures in, and there was already one of him and Matthew at some beach, smiling in front of the sea. Matthew looked a bit bashful as he always did in front of the camera, but his shoulders weren’t tense and his eyes were bright. No matter what he would have liked to pretend, Alfred was aware that that smile was genuine.

Even worse, it wasn’t the only one picture. With growing dread, Alfred kept scrolling down and was met with several similar scenarios: once again at the beach, in the snow, even at a festival… the location changed, but Matthew was always there. His rident face settled inside Alfred’s stomach with the weight of a rock.

An alien, unpleasantly cold feeling coiled inside his chest.

That fool! Cuba’s going to hurt him, Matthew can’t trust somebody like that!

…Even though Matthew clearly did. Moreover, that had to be going on for years – Alfred wasn’t stupid. If something bad had to happen, it would have already.

Still… there was something unfair in that. Matthew spending so much time with somebody else as well… his brother having his own friend should be something good. But there were so many pictures… Alfred should have been in them.

The bitterness on his tongue tasted like loss.

(word count: 901)

[bramblingstories-blog]

We’re Bad People

Word Count: 3077

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, old people falling down

Summary: Bucky is drawn to Y/N for some reason he can’t explain. He loses her, finds her, and then has to figure out what she’s laughing at. 

A/N: So, this is my first ever fanfic, sorry if it sucks and sorry if the grammar/syntax isn’t consistent. I just had a thought and had to get it out. 

Something’s wrong with her. Must be.

That was what went through Bucky’s mind the first time he saw her. It was 5 AM on a Sunday in the middle of summer in NYC, and - even for the city that never sleeps - no one who had a good Saturday night was up at 5 AM. The only people out were fellow joggers and the occasional walk-of-shamer, but the joggers were, well, jogging, so they went to bed early because they knew they would be jogging at 5 AM on a Sunday; and the walk-of-shamers didn’t usually go through the park. And, they didn’t usually sit on a park bench with a book they didn’t seem to be reading. And, they weren’t wearing jeans, a tank top, and a bright red scarf. 

So, she wasn’t jogging and she wasn’t doing the walk of shame. If she’s not going to bed early in order to jog, she could be taking advantage of the ample nightlife NYC has to offer, but if she had done that, she’d probably be doing the walk of shame. Which means this cute girl sitting on a park bench at 5 AM on a Sunday in the middle of summer in the city clearly didn’t have anything or anyone occupying her Saturday nights and that was just so inconceivable that someone that cute wouldn’t have plans on a Saturday night that the only possible explanation was that she was even weirder than he was.

That thought was actually almost comforting to him, as he jogged right past her and then promptly stopped thinking about her.

“Oh my God!”

Bucky’s head snapped up, He ran in this park at 5 AM on Sundays because it was nearly devoid of all other people at that time, so to hear a woman yell “Oh my God!” was - pardon the phrase - unheard of. 

He stopped his morning jog and looked around for the source. It didn’t take long for him to find it. A cute girl was sitting on the park bench just up the path from him and she seemed to be the source of the disturbance. He could not see what or who had caused her to shout, though. However, since no once seemed to be in imminent danger, he resumed his jog; and, as he ran past her on the bench, he realized she was yelling - out loud and in public - at the book she was reading. 

He also noticed it was the same girl from last week. The one who doesn’t have anything to do on weekends. The one who yells at books and wears a bright red scarf.

Yeah, definitely a weird one.

“Guess she’s not here today....”

“Who?”

He hadn’t realized he’d said that out loud. That was supposed to be a thought said with his inside voice to his own brain, not with his outside voice to his friend, but, Steve was looking expectant so he had to say something now.

“There’s usually a girl on that bench up there on Sunday mornings. She always has a book with her, but I’ve only seen her actually reading it once. She mostly just stares off or zones out. She wears this obnoxiously red scarf.”

“Why is anyone out at this time of morning just to sit on a park bench and not read?” Steve quirked an eyebrow.

“Beats me, man, I think she’s probably crazy.”

“And yet you know her Sunday morning routine, her reading habits, and her fashion accessory choices.” Steve was smirking now. The punk.

“I know what you’re insinuating, but....” Bucky’s word’s died in his throat.

“But what?”

She was there. In the park. On a bench. With a book. She had moved up the path by one bench because her bench was occupied by an older gentleman this morning, but she was still there. Still not reading the book she always brought. But she wasn’t wearing her red scarf. Her scarf today was thicker to accommodate the autumn chill. And it was green.

“But I don’t know her fashion accessory choices like you think,” said Bucky, while nodding in her direction to point her out to Steve.

Steve had no tact and turned to blatantly stare at her, which would’ve been fine if she had been reading that stupid book. But, since she almost never did, she saw him staring at her and waved at them as they passed. Bucky averted his gaze and pretended they hadn’t been talking about her. Steve waved back.

“She’s cute. You should talk to her sometime.”

“You’ve decided to set me up with the only person in this whole city who might actually be weirder than me. Great.”

Steve chuckled and they continued on their way.

It was a game now. Every Sunday at 5 AM Bucky went for a run. And, every Sunday at 5 AM, he made a bet with himself. Would she be there? Would she be reading or staring off? What color would her scarf be?

He slowly realized over the last three or four months of this little game that the person who he hadn’t thought twice about has now come to occupy his thoughts for the entirety of his Sunday mornings and most of his time throughout the week is spent either analyzing mission reports or trying to derive meaning from the different colors of scarves she wore each week. He had convinced himself that the red scarf was her “reading scarf” when she actually attempted to read that book, the purple one would be for when she was happy, and the green one was when she was sad. He had completely arbitrarily designated these colors to these meanings, as he had no way of knowing anything at all about her mental state when choosing or wearing said scarves. 

As he arrived at the park for his run this morning, he decided she was happy, so the purple scarf. The book would be in her lap, but it wouldn’t be open, and she would be on her usual bench. He told himself this time he would actually try to read the title of this book she carried with her but never read. A new insight into the is cute but weird girl. 

He would lose all of the bets he made with himself that morning though. He wouldn’t learn the name of the book and he wouldn’t know what color scarf she was wearing, and since he couldn’t see her scarf he couldn’t decide if she was happy or sad. 

Because, this Sunday morning, at 5 AM, she wasn’t on her bench. She wasn’t on the next bench or the one up the path. In fact, Bucky ran his route twice just to check every bench in case she’d had a late start that morning but it was no use. 

She wasn’t there.

He’d told himself to let it go. That it didn’t matter. That he’d never actually met the girl, so he couldn’t be worried about her. That was ridiculous. 

Ridiculous or not, he failed in his efforts to talk himself out of thinking about her, though. He’d even asked F.R.I.D.A.Y. to search for her, but since he had nothing to search but “cute, girl, park” he got no useful results. Steve had pointed out that it was November in New York and that it was probably too cold for her to keep getting up before the sun to only sit on a park bench and stare. That was the most logical explanation. Bucky didn’t buy it.

So, he kept jogging the same route every Sunday at 5 AM waiting for her to come back and not knowing what he would do if she did.

It was just after 5 AM on the Sunday before Christmas. Bucky was jogging his usual route through the park and coming up on her bench. She wasn’t there, of course. She hadn’t been there for at least a month. He had decided it meant that she now had something or someone to do on weekends, so of course she would stop coming to the park. That thought made him a bit sad and gave him a twinge of something he could only classify as jealousy. He acknowledged that was completely irrational though, since he couldn’t be jealous of a woman he had never met spending time with someone other than him, when the most he had ever seen her was for 10 seconds as he ran past her on Sunday mornings nearly two months ago. It was insane. Nevertheless, he was almost jealous.

It was while he was contemplating a new name for his almost-jealousy -- jealousy adjacent? -- that he heard it. Someone had shrieked. The sound had come from his right, probably on the other side of the tall hedges. He stopped in his tracks and listened hard. It now sounded like someone was... sobbing? He waited and as the sound died down he decided it was nothing and he should continue his jog. But, just as he turned to run, the person shrieked again, and that’s when he remembered that there was a lake on the other side of those hedges. A frozen lake on a cold morning in December with someone screaming and/or crying? That couldn’t be good. His instincts kicked in and he started to fight his way through the hedge. But, when he got to the other side, it was not what he expected. 

It was her.

She was doubled over on a bench. If the hedge hadn’t been there, she would be back to back with her bench. And she was... sobbing? No. The sound he had mistaking for crying before was actually her... laughing? Yes, she was laughing so hard she wasn’t really making sound, and she couldn’t breathe. He had interpreted that choking sound as distress, but we was clearly wrong. She was having a great time, though he had no idea what had made her laugh this hard. 

He had no time to think about that, though, because she had straightened up and realized that a strange man had just materialized out of a bush and was staring at her. She looked shocked to say the least, and he owed her an explanation.

However, all that came out of his mouth was, “It’s you!”

If he thought she was freaked out by a stranger crawling through a bush, she was doubly freaked out by that same stranger essentially declaring he had crawled through said bush looking for her. 

“I mean, I just, I haven’t seen you for so long I thought you’d stopped coming, but now... here you are!”

Her eyes got wider with every word he said. He was only making it worse. If he hadn’t been giving off a stalker vibe before, he certainly was now.

“No! I mean, not that I know when you come to the park and when you don’t it’s just... I got used to seeing you. On my jogs! I run in the park and I run past you, that’s why I see you all the time and you haven’t been on my route for like two months so I thought you’d stopped coming because I hadn’t seen you nothing weird I’m not stalking you I promise...” He couldn’t stop talking. 

“Okay, well, can you tell me why you ran through a bush to find me if you’re not stalking me?” It was the first time he’d heard her voice and it was not what he had expected. For whatever reason, he had given her a high-pitched, girly voice when he thought of her in his mind, but her real voice was deeper than he’d thought. Warm and sultry. He could listen to it all day.

“Right, about that, I uhhhhh.... I heard you laughing?”

“Oh God, I have such an ugly laugh. You must’ve thought someone was dying.”

He blushed and looked away. He didn’t want to tell her, but that is exactly what he had thought.

“I’m Y/N, what’s your name? Or should I just stick with “Not Stalker”?”

He chuckled, “Bucky, I’m, uh, my friends call me Bucky.”

“Well, Bucky, why don’t you join me on this lovely bench, I’ve got something to show you.”

He blushed again, this was not at all how he had imagined meeting her. Not that he had been fantasizing about meeting her but... okay yes he had, and this was not how it had gone in his head.

“Alright, see the pond?” He nodded. “So, on the other side of the pond, there’s a sidewalk path. It loops around that pond and branches off into those trees back there.”

“Right, I used to jog that route, but the tree branches that overhang the sidewalk are too low and I didn’t want to duck so I started running on the other side over here,” Bucky elaborated. 

“Well then, you’ll be glad you made that decision, because some of your fellow joggers were not that smart. At the T intersection where the straight path into the trees meets the circle around the pond there happens to be a large patch of ice that not a single person sees before it’s too late.”

Just then, a woman wearing an all pink tracksuit with pink mittens, pink earmuffs, and a pink scarf came out of the trees and headed straight for that very intersection.

“She’s really booking it,” Y/N’s voice hitched in laughter already, “she’s gonna eat it hard in 3...2...1...”

The pink lady seamed to be running just fine until she wasn’t anymore. All of a sudden, her legs flew out in front of her. She hung in the air like a cartoon character who just realized they’d walked off a cliff before landing hard on her ass and spinning around until she was backwards and had slid a good three feet down the path.

Y/N let out a shriek and doubled over in a fit of laughter. Bucky lost it as well and let out a great big belly laugh. The two of them were nearly in tears over it.

They sat together and watched four more people slip and fall on the ice. Laughing together on this park bench, it felt like they had known each other for ages, not the mere minutes it had actually been. Bucky finally asked, and it turns out the book is only there so she can have something to pretend to do while she people-watched in the park. Apparently, she made up stories in her head for every walk-of-shamer that passed, but thought it was creepy to just stare at them, so she brought a book to make it less weird. He’d also been wrong about the scarves. The green was for when she was happy. The purple was just because she liked purple. 

She was definitely a weird one. But he liked her brand of weird. 

He was about to ask if she made up stories for the joggers as well when he spotted them.

“Oh my god, it’s a whole gaggle!” Bucky was just a little too excited about the group of a dozen or so senior citizens making their way towards the ice patch.

“A gaggle? You call a group of old people a gaggle? Like geese?” Y/N was already chuckling and they were still 10 yards from the ice.

“Bucky shrugged, not even looking at her, his eyes glued to the group of unsuspecting grandparents about to encounter the ice, “It’s shorter than saying, “a group of old people” and it evokes feelings of waddling and squawking which can apply to both geese and grandpa, so yes. Oh! Here we go!”

The first two had found the ice. The woman had slowed down and managed to maintain her balance, slipping only a bit. But, she’d turned around to warn the rest of her companions and that’s when the man with her grabbed her arm to stabilize himself and that action took them both down. Adding insult to injury, she hadn’t been fast enough with her warning, so the next four people all slipped and fell on top of the two already on the ground. In 30 seconds all but one of them had fallen victim to the ice patch.

Bucky had let out a huge bark of laughter before ducking his head in his hands. Y/N had shrieked and then snorted and eventually was laughing so hard she couldn’t breathe. After a minute or so, they realized that this gaggle of grandparents were struggling to get up and felt guilty for laughing at them. Bucky and Y/N started to go over to help, but were still giggling a little bit to themselves.

“This is bad, Bucky, we can’t be laughing when we get to them.” Y/N was trying to sternly talk herself into not giggling. It was not working.

Bucky was struggling himself, “You’re right, it’s not funny. These poor people have fallen and they can’t get up.”

Bucky and Y/N made eye contact. And burst out laughing. Again. 

“Are we bad people?” Y/N asked while wiping away tears from laughing so hard.

Bucky couldn’t answer her because he was too busy gritting his teeth to stop himself from breaking into yet another fit of giggles.

They got to the gaggle and carefully helped them up and sent them on their way. The lovely seniors had all said how nice and sweet the “young couple” was, presumably because they hadn’t heard the peals of laughter coming from either of them across the pond only minutes before. 

Y/N and Bucky stood in the snow by the ice patch and watched the seniors jog off into the trees. Just as they turned to head back across the pond to their bench, a voice rang out from the other side of the path.

“Bucky! There you are! I’ve been looking for y-”

And with that, Steve ran smack dab into the ice pact and busted his ass right in front of Y/N and Bucky. Y/N couldn’t breathe from laughing so hard and Bucky barked out a big belly laugh so loud it surprised Steve. He hadn’t heard Bucky laugh like that in a long time.

Y/N and Bucky were crying with laughter when Y/N tried to apologize to Steve. “I’m sorry!” Laugh, “It’s just - “ snort - 

Bucky sighed, took a deep breath, and finished her sentence for her.

“We’re bad people.”

[cliffordsprague-blog]

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