#god it's inconvenient that i had to be at work in 7 hours

[hyuneskkami]

03 ✦ I think i’m addicted to the title ‘you and me’ ! ༄.°

𝒽wang hyunjin x f!reader

masterlist . . . ✰

𓆩♡𓆪 𝒶n : my favourite chapter by far 🤭 kind of a fluffy chapter! def the longest in the series till rn too (I hate writing long chapters, please save me 🙏); anyway. the time has finally come fr! here’s your the ultimate climax chapter <333

𓆩♡𓆪 𝓌arnings + tags : mention of kissing , hand holding , talking about being a bottom/top , hands around neck , light neck biting (twice) , y/n trying to internally best-friend-zone hyunjin but it doesn’t work , oblivious idiots in love ;

𓆩♡𓆪 𝓌c : 1.05k

DAY #03 . . .

days merged into one another because all I did was go to school and prep school, nothing more and nothing less.

I internally even sobbed, realising that I hadn’t read any of my books for the past six months.

we got our test scores back an hour ago, leaving the results of a bet looming over my head. a bet I made with hyunjin. a bet, whose loser had to kiss someone.

I bet that hyunjin would score higher than I would, and he bet the opposite. loser has to kiss anyone the winner picks.

except, we weren’t serious about the consequences because he had gotten out of a pretty serious relationship just a couple of months ago, and I was… well, I hadn’t had my first kiss yet.

instead of reminding each other of the bet, hyunjin and I were holding hands under the table—which we did quite often because he said my hands were cold and he was ‘warming them up’—when, one of the days preceding halloween, the topic of being a ‘bottom’ or a ‘top’ came up in the class.

“I think you’d be a… bottom,” hyunjin whispered to me.

“duh,” I rolled my eyes.

“why? you like when the other person does all the work for you, don’tcha?”

“well, yeah,” I said, shrugging.

the conversation quickly moved on to what our type was.

“she needs to be as mentally unwell as I am,” hyunjin said. “and have the same sense of humour, too. a little shorter than me, and smart. like, book-smart as hell. oh, hopefully someone who goes to the same prep school so we could see each other a lot, you know?”

I nodded, thinking of any of the girls in our class who fit the criteria, but failed. I even tried to go out of the way and mentally scrolled through a list of girls from other prep school classes, and still turnd up with nothing.

“y/n, what about you?” he nudged my arm.

“mmm, obviously mentally unhinged, because if not, it’d be boring if they didn’t match my freak, right? also, they better be ready to hear out all the freaky fantasies i’ve collected after being a book girl for so many years. the list is unbelievably long,” I said, half-laughing. “I don’t really mind if they’re younger or older than I am, but I would never date anyone shorter than me.”

he laughed and nodded his head at me, his eyes crinkling. I was honoured to be one of the few people who saw this version of his smile—the kind that reaches his eyes.

classes ended earlier than usual—at 7:50, instead of 8:00 p.m., which is still relaxing—so we spent more time in the park near my house together, before hyunjin could leave.

“come on, i’ll walk you home. it’s getting a bit late,” he said, jumping up from his swing, and extending his hand.

I took it without a second thought, and we talked about everything that happened in our classes at school as we kept walking.

“oh my god,” I groaned, looking at the ‘out of service! sorry for the inconvenience!’ sign taped to the elevator. ugh.

“let’s go,” he said, happy to convert me to his staircase-is-better-than-elevators agenda, pulling me up the stairs immediately.

trailing behind him, I asked, suddenly curious, “what led you to conclude the fact that i’d be a bottom?”

when we reached the third floor, he waited a beat before pulling me towards the wall. he pushed me against it gently, and slowly wrapped his fingers around my throat, towering over me and staring down into my eyes. I looked away to the side in embarrassment, as my cheeks flushed.

a second later, he let go. “the fact that you liked that, i’m pretty sure, is proof enough, don’tcha think?”

I mumbled a ‘whatever’, and we kept walking up the stairs. from the corner of my eyes, I could see his mouth still moving, continuing conversation, but my mind kept straying to his lips. and his nose. and his eyes. oh my god, he was beautiful.

“remember our deal about letting me bite you?” he asked suddenly. I nodded. I always bit his finger to annoy him (as I did to my other friends, as well) and he bit back a remark of ‘you’re just begging for me to bite you too, huh?’ to which I cockily remember replying, ‘try it’.

I pulled up the sleeve of my jacket and pushed my hand towards him, assuming he’d bite my hand like I did to him, and get it over with.

instead, he pulled me by my outstretched hand towards the wall again. his hands rested around my neck and tilted my face to my side. he gently nipped at my neck, and I laughed softly.

“tickles,” I mumbled.

best friends, I reminded myself.

he let go, and we walked up another floor to reach mine.

before I could wave to him, he asked, “want another on the other side?”

I quietly took small steps towards him, and his warm fingers found their home on my cheek, tilting my face away slowly. he bit down on my other side for a lot longer than the first time.

I held in a whimper, this time.

best friends.

I was pressed in between the wall and his body. I plopped my head down onto his chest, trying to calm down my racing heart.

best friends, right?

we were both smiling a little and his hand rested against my heart.

“got that heart beating so fast, all for me?” he smirked. I stopped myself from rolling my eyes.

best friends, I had to keep reminding myself.

I mumbled a ‘good night, hyune,’ to him and walked out of the stairwell. he let me go, knowing my parents would get mad at me if I got home even a minute later than I was supposed to.

he smiled, wishing me a good night and walking down the stairs again.

the cheeky little bastard.

I continued cursing him out in my mind, as I unlaced my shoes and stepped into my house. still scolding him internally for nothing, I tried to calm down my racing heart and shaking legs.

best friends aren’t supposed to have this kind of effect on each other… right?

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[phie04]

inconvenience | g. clarke

Chapter 7: A Night Out to Remember

Summary: Noa takes a break and goes on a night out

Word Count: didn’t count it lol

Warnings: alcohol, swearing, George being a cunt

“You,” Arthur said, leaning over Noa, “need a night off, preferably tonight, and preferably clubbing.”

Noa grumbled and rolled her eyes, trying to shrug off Arthur from her shoulders.

“What I need is to finish this, have an early night and then get up tomorrow to work on the next part of this project.”

Chris, who had also let himself into Noa’s apartment slowly appeared in her field of vision, and started closing her laptop, even though she was still typing on it.

“Noa. You’re twenty two. Do what all other people your age are doing, go out clubbing - it’s Friday night, what’s one evening of fun going to do?”

She grimaced, putting her hand up to stop the lid from closing even more. “Knowing you guys, one evening of fun turns into an early morning of fun, and then a day of sleeping.”

“But you know that sleep feels so fucking good.” Chris said, poking her side. “Come on, please? You’ve been here for ages and still haven’t come out with us, cmon, you know how much fun it will be.”

The pair of guys both stared at Noa, doing their best puppy eyes. Noa glared at the two of them, before turning back to her work. Seeing as how her previous project had gone so well, she had then been given greater responsibilities on the new plans, which meant that she had to work twice as quickly to get it all done.

“Can’t, too much work.” She shot a quick apologetic smile to the two of them, before resuming her plans.

“Please Noa, you need a break, you’re going to burn yourself out.”

“Come on, you can film it too, your followers would love it.”

Since appearing on Bach and Arthur’s podcast, Noa had started a YouTube channel, uploading short videos - clips of her commuting, the world moving below her from her window, and small moments with the boys. The videos were never too long, most of them around five to ten minutes, but people seemed to enjoy them, and she had gained a somewhat healthy following.

“They love you, one of you two could film.”

“That’s not the- Noa, please. We want to spend time with you too.”

“You regularly spend time with me, you’re doing it right now.”

Chris snatched the laptop away from Noa, sprinting away as fast as his little legs could carry him. “YOU’RE COMING OUT AND THATS THE END OF IT!” He yelled, skittering into the hall and towards the elevator.

Noa threw her hands up in frustration, as well as defeat. “Fine! You win!”

“Wait, really?” Arthur asked, his face lighting up with excitement.

“Where are we going?”

“Our favourite, Coyote Ugly in Camden.”

Noa’s eyebrows raised. “You guys need to diversify your night outs.”

“You need to get changed, we’re leaving in half an hour.”

“Half an hour? Half an hour?” Noa spluttered, rising from her chair and frantically going into her bedroom, where she began to root through her wardrobe. “Thank you for the large amount of time you’ve given me to get ready.”

“I mean, you could have had an extra five minutes if you caved when we first asked.” Arthur shrugged, smiling sweetly.

Noa grabbed the item closest to her, which turned out to be a shin pad and flung it at Arthur’s head. He took that as his cue to leave.

noamurphy

liked by gkbarry_, georgeclarke and 23,492 others

noamurphy I have to take time off working apparently??? to go clubbing??? on a Friday????

comments open

bambinobecky thank god otherwise I feared you would never stop working

⮑ noamurphy committed to the grind ✍🏻

maxbalegde proper fitty x

⮑ noamurphy no you xx

chrismd10 are you finally ready

⮑ noamurphy can’t rush looking this good christopher

⮑ gkbarry_ she has a point Christopher

⮑ arthurnhill yeah Christopher

⮑ georgeclarke yeah Christopher

⮑ chrismd10 can you even walk in those

⮑ noamurphy yeah Christopher

user2 god she’s so pretty

⮑ user1 girlie is going to eat on the night out i fear

user3 George in the likes???? And comments???? What alternate universe am I in???

⮑ user4 REALLLLLLLL

“You know what?” Noa yelled over the blaring music to Chris and Arthur.

The five of them had safely made it to the club in Camden after a largely uneventful tube ride, aside from when an already tipsy ArthurTV nearly slid down the escalator handrail headfirst. Luckily, George had already grabbed his shoulders before he got any further away.

“What?”

“I’m actually enjoying myself, thanks for dragging me out!” She said, taking another swig of her drink - she wasn’t quite sure of what was in it, as Chris and George had ordered them from the bar, but nevertheless, she wouldn’t turn down a free drink.

“No worries, we’re doing this all the time!” An enthusiastic ArthurTV replied, throwing his arms around her shoulders.

“No we’re not, this is a one time special only!” She replied, gently lifting one of Arthur’s arms to loop it around George, so that she didn’t have to take the full weight of the already drunk adult.

George hadn’t been surprised when he was told that Noa had initially declined going out with them, and as much as he hated to, he had to give her credit. She was hardworking and dedicated, to say the least. - she had a better mindset and creativity than a few YouTubers he knew. And whilst she was crafting up building designs, she was filming and editing for her new and growing YouTube channel.

But what he didn’t expect was for her to appear at their door half an hour after Chris and Arthur disappeared to persuade her, wearing a black mini dress that hugged her figure perfectly. George hoped that she wouldn’t remember the way he stuttered when he first saw her, praying that she might have enough alcohol to make her forget it.

He really hoped she wouldn’t remember. He hated the idea that Noa’s presence would have any effect on him, because he really didn’t like her. George was sure of it. Didn’t like from the moment Chris and Arthur started talking about her, didn’t like her when she moved in.

So why, oh God why did she make his breath catch every time he looked at her, watching her dance effortlessly under the neon lights side by side with the Arthur’s.

As the night went on George felt himself gravitate more towards Noa, maybe it was the alcohol talking, but maybe he was starting to warm up to her. George let out a rare smile, glancing down at Noa across him, who was grinning, whilst shouting the lyrics to Cruel Summer, arm in arm with Chris.

“AND IT’S NEW! THE SHAPE OF YOUR BODY IT’S BLUE! THE FEELING I’VE GOT-“ Noa yelled, swaying to the music. Chris and Arthur were right, she definitely needed a break, and whilst maybe she would have preferred watching Lord of the Rings whilst eating an ungodly amount of popcorn, this wasn’t too bad. Though, to prevent a few in their group from having too much fun, the five decided to leave before it got too late, and then faced the arduous task of getting to the tube station with everyone in one piece.

“You’re a very attractive man…” ArthurTV slurred, holding himself up on George, which prompted him to burst out laughing at the odd outburst. “Why do you get zero women? Same goes for you Noa! Are you even dating someone?”

Noa giggled and swatted Arthur’s head. “No you idiot, you know this!” She said, skipping ahead of the pair, arm in arm with Arthur Hill.

“Well you should, y’know? George, Noa, date please and thank you.” He muttered, before turning to Chris. “Hobbit! Next weekend we get you a girlfriend!”

“How? Going to magic one into existence?” Noa teased, wiggling her fingers at the shorter man. “Scared off the Hinge date by talking about you know who too much?”

“You talked about Voldemort with a Hinge date?” Arthur screeched, pulling George into the road, trying to chase one of the light up Tuk-Tuks that was passing them.

“He means Shannon you idiot.” George chastised, pulling the brunet out of the road and harms way.

“Shannon? Fucking hell Chris, find another topic of interest.”

“Oh well fuck you lot too, and for your information Noa, it’s for a video, which I believed you agreed to help out with.”

Noa nodded sleepily, ruffling Chris’ permed hair. “Will do hobbit, will do.”

The more sober Arthur and George lead the other three into the unusually busy tube station, trying to keep everyone together as they made their to the platform.

“Hey, Arthur, we’re-we’re on a train platform,” Chris said, trying not to giggle. “New platform roulette, now?”

Noa tutted and rolled her eyes. “Doesn’t work on the tube stupid, only got like, two platforms to choose from. Need to do it at a bigger station.” She said, nodding her head enthusiastically.

Boarding the tube arm in arm, Noa collapsed next to Chris and Arthur, leaning her head on the latter’s shoulders, looking over to George and the other Arthur sitting across from them.

“Why does George hate me?” She mumbled, looking the man opposite her up and down. George was too busy on his phone to notice how Noa was gazing at him, but it wasn’t missed by the man sitting next to him.

“Huh?” Arthur mumbled, jolting awake.

“Never mind.”

“Okay.”

————————————•————————————

“Fuck.” Noa cursed, her hands covering her mouth as she spun round in the tube station, tears starting to fill her eyes. “Fuck.”

Everywhere she turned, she couldn’t spy the boys anywhere.

Panic started to creep in, as the horrific realisation began to set in, she was alone, at night, with a dead phone battery, in a part of London she didn’t know.

Noa hadn’t realised that she had been separted from the group when she stopped to complement a passing Hen Do, very taken in by the group of women all dressed as Greek Goddesses. It was about two minutes after she had started waffling about the influence of Hecate on Grecian architecture when one of the women asked her “where did those cute guys that you where with go?” did she realise that she had lost them.

Noa started chewing her thumbnail anxiously. She had no clue what to do. Whilst she had sobered up a bit, she still didn’t completely trust herself to make her way home by herself. She really wanted to cry, but she couldn’t let herself fall apart - all she had to do was think, and she could find a way out of this.

“What the big fat fuck- Noa is that you?” A wonderfully familiar Northern voice asked, causing Noa to spin on her heel, relief washing over her.

“Max?”

“Oh my god it is, I can’t believe this is how I meet you!” The excited blond yelled, tugging his boyfriend’s arm to embrace her.

“I’m so thankful you’re here you won’t believe it, I was out with the boys but I lost them and I’ve got no clue where I am and my phone is dead-“ She rambled, hugging him back.

Max’s jaw dropped. “George lost you? And didn’t stay here to look?”

“I mean it wasn’t just George, Chris and the Arthur’s were there too-“

“I can’t believe George lost you!” Max yelled, pulling his phone out. “I am going to send him many, many strongly worded messages.” He assured, pulling his phone out.

“Thanks Max, but could you maybe help me get home first?”

The blond pursed his lips and nodded, pulling her towards one of the platforms. “Of course, you look well fit too, can’t believe George left it this long to introduce us, and still he hasn’t really.”

“Yeah…” Noa agreed, smiling quickly at him. “I mean, George and I, we- we well-“

“Oh my god are you two fucking? I knew it- ANDREW I KNEW IT!” Max yelled, his jaw dropping to the floor.

“No no no- the opposite really, he actually hates me, or at least I’m pretty sure he does.”

“What the big fat fuck? But you’re gorgeous and funny? What?”

Noa blushed, batting her hand as she shrugged. “I don’t know, ever since I got here he hasn’t liked me.”

Max looked positively disgusted. “I am about to send many messages to him, and he won’t know what hit him.”

George sighed, setting his phone down on the kitchen counter. He looked across the kitchen, where Chris was pacing nervously on the phone to someone who worked at TFL, hoping they might have seen Noa.

“She’s with Max and Andrew, they found her, I think.”

“What?” Arthur asked, his head snapping up from his position on the sofa with the other Arthur. “Is she okay?” He asked, biting his lip nervously.

George shrugged. “I think so.”

Chris hung up the phone, going to join George at the kitchen counter. “You didn’t ask?”

“Max would’ve said if she wasn’t, so I guess she is.”

“Well, are they on their way back? Does she have her keys?”

“I don’t know.”

Chris had been panicking for nearly an hour about the whereabouts of his friend, lost in London, all because George was rushing to get the next tube home before ArthurTV got too zesty in public. He had called all the girls he knew in London in case they had heard anything, as well as his sister. He’d also tried to file a missing persons case, but apparently because she’d been gone less than a day, they couldn’t do anything.

He had stressed about everything that might have happened to Noa, along with the two Arthur’s. Part of him was terrified of the thought of having to tell her family the bad news, of something terrible that happened to her on his account.

So, when one of his best friends couldn’t care about her, he snapped.

“GEORGE! For once in your life give a shit! I don’t care that you’re not best friends with Noa, but you could at least care that she hasn’t been stabbed, or worse whilst alone in the tube station, which, was your fault!”

Chris was nearly shaking with anger, and he was a little happy at himself the way George looked at him in surprise.

“Chris-“

“George I’ve known Noa basically all my life, she is like a sister to me, and the fact that you don’t seem to care about that, is a massive fucking fuck you in my eyes.” Chris took a deep breath. “So, the second Noa gets back, I’m making sure she’s fine, then I’m going to sleep on her couch to make sure I don’t do anything stupid, and then I’m going to continue this conversation, when I’m fully sober and have had sleep. Sound good?”

George, who had practically gone into shock, simply nodded and gulped nervously.

The two Arthur’s couldn’t help but watch from the sofa, the pair of them exchanging glances. The room had descended into silence, which was broken a few minutes later by a knock on the door.

Chris practically ran across the room to throw the door open, and immediately pulled Noa into the tightest hug he could muster.

“I’m okay Chris, I’m okay.” She reassured, holding him close as the pair rocked back and forth.

“I was so worried.” He muttered, pulling back, so he could check her over for injuries.

“I was fine, Max and Andrew got me to the right tube station, and I’m here, all in one piece.”

Chris nodded, sighing in relief.

“Oh, yeah, can I stay round yours tonight?”

Noa nodded, even though she was slightly taken aback why. Though, after a glance into the apartment, seeing the sullen face of George staring sullenly at his phone, and the shocked but relieved faces of both Arthur’s, it didn’t take a genius to figure out what happened.

“Of course, go grab your stuff.”

The hangover wouldn’t be the only painful thing that they’d all have to endure tomorrow.

[cinnamontoastcrunch-15]

Are You a Festive Syrup Type of Guy?

This is an excerpt from chapter 2 of my Christmas fic for this year - Melt My Heart with a Peppermint Latte :)

Eventually, finally, the train pulls into his station.  

It’s a bigger relief than Sirius had expected it to be. As he steps off the train, some of the adrenaline that has been coursing through him for the past twelve hours starts to dissipate. It brings on a tiredness that is honestly really bloody inconvenient. 

As he starts his walk home, he pulls his phone out, trying to find a coffee shop open at 7 in the morning. Thankfully, there’s a small shop tucked away on his walk. It’s almost like the universe wants him to get some caffeine in his system. He glances around at the masses of Christmas lights adorning the streets. It’s too early for anyone to have gotten up and switched them on, much to Sirius’ delight. As much as he loves his small town, they have a terrible habit of forced cheeriness. It’s always a little painful. If he wants to get any work done, he’s going to have to hope to every possible god out there that the blaring Christmas music that is undoubtedly on his way won’t distract him from his project. 

He almost checks his phone again to find the coffee shop. That is, until he rounds a corner and finds himself practically blinded. 

One small section of the street is absolutely smothered in lights. A blend of blue, red and yellow. It’s like their sole wish is to blind every passerby. Strangely enough, though, the lights are completely static. He’s used to lights twinkling all the way across the street, like really disappointing strobe lights. These lights almost refuse to move. Sirius turns to look at the small building, reading their sign. 

Canvas Coffee. 

For the artists of tomorrow. 

Oh, fuck. 

They’re the coffee shop Sirius has been looking for. 

Still, his desire to be slightly more awake and aware than he currently is wins over his cynicism. That decided, he wanders over to the entrance and pushes open the door. 

The inside of the coffee shop may as well be the definition of ‘don’t judge a book by its cover.’ The lights are lower, almost making Sirius feel comfortable. The atmosphere is warm, calming. Sirius kind of wants to see it when the sun is shining through the vast bi-fold doors. He glances around at the sleek, artsy decor. There’s a wall dedicated to customer doodles, a mural adorning the wall behind the counter, and shelves selling both coffee grounds and art supplies. 

Sirius actually loves it. 

He turns his head, looking for whoever’s working. There’s nobody behind the counter, but when he looks to the other side, he spots him. A guy is standing on a step-ladder, reaching up and decorating a scarily big Christmas tree. 

“Oh, you fucker, just- just get on there!” He mutters to himself, and Sirius bites back an amused smile as he watches him lean in a fairly unsafe way to clip some decoration to the tree. He’s clearly only just started on the tree; it’s only got a single layer of tinsel and the ornament that he’s been fighting to attach. It also seems disgustingly out of place with the rest of the interior. 

It takes a second for Sirius to realise that he should probably let this guy know that he’s got a customer. 

“Uh… hi, sorry. Are you open?” 

The guy turns quickly, promptly tripping off the step-ladder. He stumbles for a second, much to Sirius’ amusement. He manages to catch himself, straightening up. He turns to Sirius and offers him a smile. His hair sits in slightly messy, light brown curls, his eyes almost amber under the warm lights. 

“Hi! Sorry, yeah, we are. I was just…” he gestures vaguely to the tree. “I don’t even know, actually.” As he moves past Sirius to go to the till, Sirius watches a golden retriever wearing a red vest tailing him. They both settle behind the counter, and Sirius moves to the counter. “What can I get for you?” Sirius quickly scans the menu. 

“Could I grab a latte with as many shots as you can physically get in there?” 

The guy chuckles, tapping his screen accordingly. 

“Got it.” He looks up, and SIrius can practically feel himself being surveyed carefully. “Are you a festive syrup kind of guy?” “Oh, God, no. No, I’m not.” 

“Ah, right. Hard no.” The card reader flashes, and Sirius taps his card accordingly. The guy turns, starting to maneuver around the coffee machine. “So,” he starts, pressing a button, “how come I’ve never seen you before? We don’t get many new customers.” 

“I’ve just gotten back from uni,” Sirius supplies. 

“Nice. What are you studying?” 

“Fine Arts.” 

The guy chuckles, lifting a metal jug and starting to heat the milk. 

“Fitting.” 

Sirius looks around the coffee shop. Huh. It really is. 

“What about you, then?” Sirius asks. 

“What about me?” 

“How come I’ve never seen you?” 

He turns and leans against the counter, swirling the jug in his hand casually. 

“I moved a year back,” he starts. He picks up the to-go cup, starting to pour. “My mate and I moved together for uni. I was really fucking dumb and didn’t save up during my gap year, so…” He gestures to the machine behind him. Sirius laughs, watching as the guy fastens a lid over the cup and hands it over. “We mostly get regulars here. You should probably come back so we don’t break that streak.” He has a smile creeping right onto Sirius’ face. 

“Right. Will do. I’m Sirius.” 

“Remus.” 

“See you around, Remus.” Sirius grabs his cup and walks out. 

[buckyarchives]

The Domestic Life Of Living With a Runaway Assassin [chapter one.]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x soulmate!reader

summary: you hate many things in life. You hate soulmates. You hate the avengers. You hate guns. You hate lost snorers and complicated relationships.

Bucky Barnes is associated with all of those things, yet you can find yourself hating him

W.c: 6.9k

Author note: did not think this was going to actually get notes. I forgot how bad my wiring was back then and going through and rewriting all of it is just. Ugh. I’m too lazy.

masterlist

Today was going down as the most inconvenient day ever. 

It was 10:30 pm, and you were sitting in some stupid coffee shop, the only one that had free Wi-Fii in your area because yours is down for the next 24 hours. The coffee tastes like shit because of-fucking-course it does. This place closes in 30 minutes and you have all that time to send in all your week's work to your boss, which is also due in 30 minutes. You weren't even going to think about the fact you spent all day having to listen to ongoing construction outside and having to run your roommate all around Queens to help her get comfy and organized at her dorm. 

You wanted to kick someone, honestly. 

As you tried your best to focus and very frantically type away at your keyboard. You were probably going to break your keyboard at some point tonight, either by typing too hard or just simply throwing it across the fucking room in a fit of rage. 

A woman, maybe in her mid-30s – if it matters, walks up to you and reminds you that the place closes in half an hour and gives you a free, pity coffee. Probably noticing the growing under eyes bags or seeing you yawn into your hand every 7 minutes, give or take. 

You had chugged the coffee and put everything you had into the next 20-something minutes and you sat back after your third look over everything to make sure you didn't miss any mistakes that could possibly get you fired. You were finally done and could go home. 

Closing your laptop and packing your shit up, you wave to the lovely lady probably waiting for you to leave so she can close up. But because nothing goes your way and New York is just the most wonderful place to live, especially with the avengers. You don't make it out the door before you hear rapid gunfire rattle your ears and suddenly you’re ducking beneath the first table you find. 

Your day could not get any worse, you thought.

Maybe you could have just crawled up in a ball and accepted your fate of being killed midst the 7th random gunfight of the month, you could even make it on the news! Nope, fate had other ideas and someone just has to save you. 

Your ears filter out everything besides the sound of gunfire, glass shattering, and people screaming and yelling. It's too fucking late for this. A firm hand grabs yours and before you can get whisked away and snatch your bag because your life is worth risking for your laptop and books. You swear you got whiplash from how fast you moved away from the scene, only seeing a black blur of a human in front of you. 

You regain your senses, most of them. After being pushed and crouched in a back alley behind the now-destroyed coffee shop, you hoped the lady was okay. catching your breath and hearing frantic shuffling next to you. A man, tall and built, dressed entirely in black with a plethora of weapons attached to his body. He glances at you for a moment and you think he looks familiar, maybe he was an Avenger. God, you hate the Avengers. His eyes continued to scan the dark area, before settling down next to you, eyes trained on one end of the ally. 

He has a messy mop of a head, you can't really see his eyes clearly but you definitely notice the insane-Robert-Pattinson's-batman-amounts of black eyeshadow around his eyes. He has a black mask on too. Okay, so edgy Avengers. Haven't heard of him on the news yet. Like you even watch the news. 

You must have been staring for a little too long and too hard because the mystery Avenger takes notice of it and his bushy eyebrows furrow at you, looking at you like you had personally offended him. Then, you notice his eyes and are a little, only a little, taken aback by their intense blueness and beauty of them. You barely notice what he says. “I'm sorry, you probably don't feel very safe with me.”

You scoff. “I don't even know who you are.”

The emo Avenger freezes and looks at you with wide eyes like you grew two heads. Or you were the crazy one between the two of you. “What?” you question him and he mumbled and sputtered under the mask. You motion for the mask, telling him to take it off. And he slowly rips it off his face, his very pink lips are parted and he's breathing hard and fast. 

“You.. what did you say, your words.”

Wait.

You have got to be fucking kidding me.

Your mouth falls open and you really want to kick something, or him. “You're my soulmate?” you said maybe a little too loud and it came out harsher than intended. He looks hurt by your tone and if it wasn't for the shock taking over your head, you would have felt bad. 

Today is the most inconvenient and the worst day of your life.

“Wow doll, you're the first person I've met that sounds disappointed to find their soulmate.” you ignore his comment and especially ignore the nickname, hoping that wouldn't stick. You wanted to go the fuck home. 

“Can I leave?”

Your soulmate narrowed his eyes at you. “No.”

“Why.” your eyes narrow back into his and just for a moment you realize you’re now in an impromptu staring contest with this man in some dirty back alley, hoping you don't get shot. “Listen, man, I have work tomorrow and I'd rather not get shot or dragged into some avengers bullshit.

He rolls his eyes, but you're not done. “I really don't like the Avengers. Seriously, you couldn't have chosen any other job? The number of cars I've seen the hulk throw and then miss–”

“I'm not an Avenger.” his bushy eyebrows furrow, plus the black war paint makes him look intimidating. If you weren't pissed,  you might have been a little scared. Only a little.

“You really don't know who I am?”

“Am I supposed to?” you fire back. The ego of this guy!

He sputtered for a moment, “No, I guess not.”

your back hits the brick wall, sigh to yourself, and slump back down. You made yourself small. Now nursing a monstrous headache.

A frustrated grunt comes from the dark brunette. “Ok, ok, ok, ok… I'm going to walk you home.”

“No.”

“Yes,” he says, you just realize you don't know his name. “You said it yourself, you don't want to get shot. I’ll make sure that you don’t.”

You were really tired, letting people win wasn't something you did often. You'll make an exception. You huff and blow some stray hair away from your face. “What's your name?”

He pauses, “Bucky.”

“Well, Bucky.” you bring yourself to your feet. “You bring me safely home, quickly with no little side quest. That's it. And then you turn around and don't come back to my place.” you grab a hold of his hand to drag him along but you're met with cold, hard, metal. He flinches out of his skin, and metal. Your eyes travel up his arm. 

“You’re an amputee?”

Bucky looks confused. “What?”

“Nevermind.” you shook your head and continued to drag him along to your apartment. You were so ready to go the fuck to bed. You hoped this walk home wasn't painful, but when do you get what you want?

Bucky was confused. Your pace matched his as you walked side by side to your apartment. The gentle wind brushed against his skin and flew through his brown locks. He was walking next to his soulmate. You were his soulmate and it seemed you wanted nothing to do with him. 

Bucky knew very well he was way out of his time but he couldn't come up with a coherent answer to why. Was this new generation against the universe? Was this some weird trend? Unless you lied to him and did know who the winter soldier was, that would make sense. But, you seemed pretty persistent that you did, in fact, not know him (which the more he thought about it– he felt good that you didn't know). You must not read the paper, or watch the news. You thought he was a goddamn avenger!

He glances over to you, your lips. You were chewing on your bottom lip. It was painted red. You look beautiful with the dim yellow street light shining down on your face. “Don't do that.”

Bucky's voice is soft and gentle. He doesn't recognize it.

Your eyes trail to him. “Do what?” you ask

“That.” Bucky pauses in his spot on the sidewalk, takes a few steps towards you and he brings his flesh hand up to your mouth, slowly grazing his thumb across your split lip. “Don't chew so hard on your lip like that. I'm sure it hurts.”

Bucky's eyes are trained onto your lips, he doesn't dare look up at your eyes. But you are staring at him with widened eyes. You felt like you were on fire.

Too close. You pull away. “Okay, this is my apartment. Bye, Bucky.” 

And just like that, you're quickly walking into your apartment lobby, you glance back at him and give Bucky a sincere smile before leaving his sights. Bucky stood there feeling like an idiot, completely forgetting any government or hydra issues he was dealing with earlier.

Bucky was going to walk away but his intrusive, no,  protective – as he would describe it – thoughts took over. He jogged to the other side of the building, hoping he would be able to figure out which apartment you lived in without going too far. He saw a light turn on and noticed a figure walking by, your figure. This wasn't stalking, no. Bucky was just making sure you made it to your home, safe and sound, he was just looking out for his soulmate. As he should. So, not stalking. And maybe, if bucky only really needed it, he would remember that window so he could pay you a visit. Not stalking you, he just cares about you. For some reason.

Bucky can hear Steve calling him a punk in the back of his head. He missed steve.

On the other end, you dragged yourself into your apartment and dropped your bag the moment you reached your room. Not caring to clean yourself up you flopped on your bed, with a long and painful groan. You felt a small weight down on your bed and you turned your head to see our cat sitting down next to your head. 

You smile and bring your hand to pet his head. “My savior. You are the only man I need.”

A soft purr vibrates from the felines, followed by a meow.

You sigh. “You're right. I need a shower.” 

Your mind wandered in the shower, as the water trickled down your body you couldn't help but bring your hand to your shoulder blade. Your finger traced around the words on your back. Your lip tug at your bottom lip. You nibbled at the already raw skin. Don't do that. You could practically feel the warmth of his hand on your face as your mind flashes back to when he was standing so close to you just moments ago. 

Bucky. There was no way you were going to let him haunt your head now. You turned the warm water off and grabbed your towel in annoyance. Drying yourself off and heading the fuck to bed. Praying that maybe when you wake up this whole day would be a dream. No soulmates, no getting shot at, and absolutely no getting flustered outside your apartment by someone you met an hour ago. 

–

 Bucky couldn't wait to see you again. He has been on the run from Hydra and Steve Rogers for too long; bucky had a hint on who would find him first. One night everything got to be too much. Parts of what hydra did to him are still very much a part of him, it was tearing him apart. It was getting harder and harder to diffrerencate what was bucky, the winter soldier, or this third feeling of pure absence of someone he didn’t know yet. He needed someone, anyone. He needed you.

You heard someone call for your name, they kept shaking you. You just wanted peaceful sleep goddamn it. You needed it. You rustled in your bed sheets, waving your hand at your roommate. She said your name again, and again, and again and ag–

“What!” you look over to see her, barely, in the dark of the room. “I'm trying to sleep!”

“There is someone in our living room.” she barely whispers.

Oh. “are you sure?” you squint at her. You don't know if she can even see you clearly enough.

“Yes.” another scared whisper.

What does a person around here have to do to get a full night's sleep for fuck sake? 

Your eyes practically roll to the back of your head. Pulling back the covers and throwing your phone at your roommate. “Call 911 if I scream or take longer than I should.” you grab the metal bat in the corner of your room.

 The fucker that decided to rob you tonight picked the wrong house, knowing the amount of pent-up rage you had; you were sure you could knock out fucking Capitan America if you wanted. Just imagine your boss's face. You sigh, loud and hard footsteps echoed through your apartment. Rounding a corner and pulling the bat high up and–

Cling!

You braced for impact. You don't get it. You look up at whoever, whatever you hit. “You!”

You are angrier than you were when interrupted from your sleep. What is he doing here? In the middle of your living room, at least he's not wearing his stupid, edgy superhero get-up. Just normal clothing and a baseball cap, but you could see the outline of a gun through his jacket. 

“Can you put the bat down?” Bucky’s holding the bat, stopping you from landing a hit to his head. 

“No. what are you doing in my living room.”

His face scrunches. Pulling the bat down and yanking it from your hands. That fake arm of his was stronger than you expected. Bucky lets out a pained sigh, “I don't know but will you just listen to me and not hit me, please?”

You feel bad. “Maybe.”

Bucky looks at you and you swear he looks like he’s going to cry. The moonlight shining through your windows makes his face look sharper, defining his features more. You think maybe this is a dream because he looks really good. Bucky looks at you like you are his whole world, or maybe you will be someday soon. “I just…”

You’re quiet, you listening to him. Bucky realizes that maybe he will cry tonight. “I just need to talk to someone, anyone. Be with someone right now or… or…” he trails off, not wanting to think about what else could happen.

you feel terrible. “Do you not have someone else than a soulmate you've only known for an hour?” you joke, but he looks at you like it's definitely not a joke. Bucky's eyes are trained on the floor as he shakes his head.

His head jerks up when your roommate walks into the room. “Do I still call 911?”

“No!.” you and bucky yelled at the same time. Eyes snapping to each other after the syllable left your mouth, eyebrows furrowed and spite heavy on your face. Whilst Bucky looked one wrong move away from a nervous breakdown. Weird dude.

You motion to your roommate to tell her to go back to bed but before you can get any words out she’s shoving past you to get too bucky. “Wait.. are you... I’ve seen you on the news.” her hand raises to her face to cover her gaping mouth. Her eyes go wide and she suddenly looks like a ghost. “Oh, my god.”

What the fuck. “Seriously, jasmine go back to bed and stop gawking at my soulmate.”

She shouts your name like your mother would when you started cussing. “You are not serious. Do you know who this is.” her pointer finger goes towards bucky aggressively. Bucky looks panicked, you wonder why but based on this mood earlier; it was best to ask questions later. It was time to play dutiful soulmate. 

“Look, jas.” you grab her by the shoulders. “I don’t know and I don’t care. Just go to bed, please?” you guide– no, drag her out of the room and give her a final nudge away, despite her weird shouts about a winter something. You couldn’t care to listen.

“I’m sorry about her. She gets paranoid.” you release a breath you forgot you were holding, followed by a plop of the couch. Bucky settles awkwardly next to you. “You really shouldn’t go breaking into people's houses, buck.”

Bucky gets whiplash at the nickname, his mind goes to Steve and suddenly he feels out of place. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, you barely hear him. “I should go, this was stupid.” Bucky goes to get up and head toward the fire escape again but you’re quick, grabbing his wrist. Bucky could have pulled away from you if he wanted, but he crumbled under your touch. Bucky holds his breath like he’s going to drown.

Bucky’s days kinda blend together. He likes routine, but there was no routine to have when you're doing what he does. You met him two weeks ago, it felt a lot more than that, or less. He couldn't tell but your touch made him feel like everything was so far away, he caught his breath for the first time in weeks. 

Bucky thought about spilling it all out, his past, his everything. But that would defeat the purpose of coming here. That talk could wait. “I'm sorry that you got me as a soulmate.”

You smack your lips and scoff. “As your body should say– uh, somewhere.” you wave your hands dramatically, “I don't even know who you are. Nothing to be sorry for, yet.”

His lip quirks up. “Except scare your roommate half to death.”

“Maybe wouldn't have happened if you used the doors.” you smile at him, Bucky’s sure he wouldn't be able to see it without the soft light of the moon shining on your face. And maybe it's just his super soldier-enhanced senses, either way, he’s soaking it up like it's the only time he’ll ever see it. 

“Doors aren’t really my thing.”

You scoff. “I'm not sure what that means but, at least go through my window next time.”

“Noted.”

“And knock!”

His lip quirk turns into a small grin. “Also noted.”

Bucky glances over at you, you’re biting your lip again. He wants to kiss you. He settles for pulling your chewed lip from under your teeth before it bleeds, just as he did that night outside your apartment. You smile, thinking that maybe you'll let him stay around for a while.

You realize that Bucky didn't walk you to your door that night, and didn't even make it inside the building. Your eyes furrow, and confusion and… amusement fills your body. “So did you stalk me the past few weeks or did you just kindly ask my landlord which unit I lived in?”

He pauses, hoping you wouldn't ask about that. “I wasn't stalking you, I just notice things.” 

You laugh out loud, and he's caught off guard by how nice it sounds ringing in his ears. “That's literally what a stalker would say.”

“I'm serious, I've been busy doing stuff these past weeks.” Bucky tried to reassure you he wasn't camping out on the roof of the building across your window like an actual stalker would. You haven't decided if you were going to believe him. You just laugh because you feel weirdly good with him in your presence. You curse to yourself, why did the universe always have to be right?

You don't care to respond so Bucky continues. “So you're not going to ask me about what your roommate was talking about.” he turns his head to look at you. He can practically see the gears turning in your head, and he gulps. 

You shake your head, eyes trained on whatever is in front of you. “Nah.” you look at him.

Bucky thinks you're the most interesting person he's met in a long time. He’ll test the waters. “What if I'm dangerous.” he narrows his eyes at you.

You narrow yours back at him. “If you're not going to kill me or you're not an avenger, I'm not too worried.”

“What do you have against the avengers?”

You groan. “It's a long story, but they are the reason I don't watch the news and why my roommate is a paranoid freak.”

Oh. so you really don't watch the news. Bucky thinks. He feels guilty when he feels a sort of relief go through his body, followed by more panic realizing he had to explain everything to you soon. Not now though, god no, not now. Maybe he could get by with not telling you at all. Bucky mentally punches himself in the face, no that wouldn't be right. Plus he was sure your roommate would babble to you about how badly the news painted him. Maybe him telling you first would be a better idea. 

“Have you ever heard of the winter soldier?”

-

The golden rays of the sun showed down onto Bucky's face, he looked over to the window hearing the loud bustling of city life below him. Your curtains are brown with white detailing. Bucky shifted on your living room couch, he gauges his mind for the memories of last night. Everything was still all so hazy. 

What day was it? Oh, last night. He tried, really, to get out the truth to you. Fumbling over his words and trying to even remember who he was, it was too much. But you, a god-given gift, told him he was too tired to talk, gave him water, and sent him off to bed on your couch. 

“You can give me your tragic backstory tomorrow, get some sleep weirdo.” you had said to him before literally pushing him onto your very comfortable couch, before returning to your room for the night.

Bucky didn't sleep, he felt oddly safe and comfortable. But he couldn't sleep. Honestly, he was close to dozing off before your roommate had woken up just before sunrise to quietly go off to work, he assumed. Bucky couldn't tell what time it was, he was guessing it was probably around 5 or 6 am. He ought to get up soon and leave. Should he leave without saying something to you? Is that rude? He was sure you'd be okay with getting him out of your hair, he was already enough of a problem to people around him. Bucky gets up to grab his boots.

“Did you even sleep?” Bucky flinches, confused as to how easy it was for you to sneak up on him. He looks up and sees you leaning against a wall, assuming you just woke up. You're still dressed in comfortable clothing, your sweater falling down, giving him a full view of your collarbone. Your skin glows in the soft sunlight. Bucky shook his head in response.

You hum, your feet shuffling across the wooden floor as you make your way into the kitchen. You start making your coffee and Bucky follows. His eyes go to the table, is he intruding if he just sits down? He stands in the doorway and watches you make your drink. You turn to bucky with an oversized mug in hand, deadpanned. “Can't believe I'm soulmates with a stalker. Sit down.” 

You motion to the seat next to you. “Not a stalker.” bucky mumbled, and you scoff.

“You want something to drink? I got tea, coffee, juice, anything your heart desires.”

Bucky pauses. “Water?” 

“Boring.” your eyes roll and you grab a bottle of water from behind you. Handing it to him, his finger brushes against yours. Bucky’s eyes dart to see your reaction, but nothing.

You get comfortable in your chair and open up your phone. Bucky is still sitting across from you, glancing between the door, window, and his water. He tries to look anywhere but at you. You quickly notice, a smart-ass comment comes to mind but you decide against it. Keeping the comfortable silence going for now.

You glance at Bucky, noticing the way his hair was still a mess from whatever he was doing last night. Quickly you realize this is the first time you've seen him in natural daylight, his eyes are beautiful and his usually dark hair looks closer to a light brunette. You could imagine going out on a date with him if he wasn't so dark and broody, but doesn't that just add to the appeal? Maybe.

You set your coffee down. “So…” trailing off, bucky finally makes eye contact with you. “You want to try again?”

Bucky's eyebrows furrow. 

“I still haven't told me who the winter soldier is and it's taking everything in me to not use the internet.” you wave your phone around in the air before setting it down next to your coffee. Bucky purses his lip. “But, I respect you and wouldn't do that.”

Bucky's eyes are trained on the table, his mind trying to find any starting point for this. Should he just tell you about hydra? Start from the beginning with the 40s, fuck, he barely remembers any of that. He's not good with words anymore.

“Can I just…” he pauses, tapping his finger on the wooden table. “Show you?”

It was a bad idea, a really bad idea. Bucky told you that but you'd instead not question him why, bucky wasn't going to elaborate on that either. With both Hydra, the US government, and Steve Rogers looking for him, being in public wasn't the safest. Especially at such a hotspot for Captain America bootlickers and history nerds. 

After many lazy complaints from you, you and bucky made your way out of your apartment together. Bucky wore the best casual disguise he could conjure up, and you and he stood in front of the Smithsonian museum.

Bucky glances over to you, a reasonably confused look plastered on your face. “Why are we at a museum?”

“Just follow me and don't draw attention to yourself, please?”

Instead, You roll your eyes and go ahead of him. “Stalker activity.” bucky hears you mumble before he follows you into the front door.

“What are you showing me, stalker.” bucky walks side by side with you, your presence is comforting in the crowded area. He noticed a group of elementary kids walking around, probably on a field trip.

“Stop calling me that.” he mumbled, “Captain America exhibit.”

Bucky looks at your hand, he could grab it. Only so he doesn't lose you in the crowd, just to keep you safe. Not because he wants to hold in, not because the quick graze of skin this morning left him wondering what it would feel like to hold you. Bucky decides against it and keeps walking.

“Isn't Captain America the like co-leader of the avengers or something?” you ask, bucky just shrugs? You see the large blown-up screens of steve roger and roll your eyes. 

Bucky's eyes lock on his memorial tribute. “Don't freak out and you can ask me questions after we leave.” 

Your face is littered with confusion again as you look at him, but you nod and turn to where he's looking at. 

“..Best friends since childhood, James ‘bucky’ Barnes and steven rogers were inseparable on both schoolyard and battlefield…” the voice spoke, highlighting a memorial on bucky. Your eyes widen after realizing the bucky standing next to you was the one talked about.

Your eyes travel to the photos of Bucky. One standing next to Steve Rogers with big smiles plastered on their faces, and one of just him. His hair is shorter and he looks much younger. There is a shine in his eyes you don't see now, a bright look that hadn't been snuffed out yet. Bucky watches you as you process the information given to you, watching for any negative or even mad emotions. You lean closer, reading the sign. Bucky was from Brooklyn, a sergeant in the military, he had 3 sisters and he was born in 1917 and he died in 1945. Well, obviously he didn't actually die, more like presumed dead.

“That's…you?”

bucky nodded slowly, eyes trained on the photo of him. He couldn't even recognize himself anymore.

Bucky scans the area, looking for anyone that may have recognized him. he lets out a very shaky breath. “Okay, we've been here too long let's go.” he really wanted to grab your hand on the way out. You don't look at him on the way out. God, did he ruin this already? He wants to punch himself.

You both make it outside, the cold morning wind gives you whiplash. It feels good. You turn to look at bucky and he kinda looks like he's going to have a mental breakdown, you don't blame him. What you just saw explains so much yet, leaves you with more questions than before. You don't think. You grab his flesh hand in hopes of being some comfort, praying that it doesn't make it worse. It doesn't. Bucky doesn't flinch this time but feels his heart jump out of his chest. 

“Are you done with being outside or can we go somewhere?” bucky gives you a nervous and almost… pained look. “It's safe, hidden away and I know the owner,” you reassure him. Bucky reluctantly nods. I'll go anywhere with you as long as you keep holding my hand. And with that, you drag him through new york to your favorite-less-likely-to-get-shot-up coffee shop. It's small, always empty and the owner is an actual sweetheart. 

The bells ring as you waltz in, bucky very close behind you, still holding your hand like a lost child. “Gary! Honey I'm home!” you shout with a wide, playful grin on your face, bucky gives a sigh of relief after noticing that it was indeed empty today. 

An older man comes out from the back, along with a girl who looks like she should be in high school behind him. You wave and give him a warm smile, leaning over the counter slightly, “the usual, please?” you glance back to bucky, “.. and a water?”

You turn to bucky. “Sit anywhere, I”ll be right over in a second.” 

He hums, releasing him from your grasp and suddenly he feels a little empty and more awkward than before. He goes to the table in the farthest corner. Front door. Window. Back door. You. he checks off the list and settles against the wall.

You grin. “How’ve you been holding up, old man.” you tease. 

Gary, the owner. A wonderful and long-time friend of yours. When you first moved to new york years ago this was the first place you went to. You became a regular and you watches workers come and go, you came here when you needed quiet to work or sometimes just to snag a free drink from Gary since he just adored you so much. 

His niece, Emma, was in high school now and worked here for the past year. You would help her study during her breaks and in return, free coffee, and pastries. She was a good baker. You didn't have family here in the city so they were the closest you were going to get to anything like it.

“Not too much, dear.” Gary gave you a warm smile, his eyes squinting. He glances over at bucky in the corner. He laughs “Got a pretty paranoid date over there, I can see his eyes hitting all the exits.”

You scoff, not expecting any less from him. “Not a date, but sadly my soulmate.”

“Finally!” Gary’s eyes light up, and you give him an annoyed look. “Oh be happy about it! Emma won't stop nagging about how she hasn't found hers yet.”

“Have not!” you hear the girl shout from across the bar. You laugh and shake your head. 

Gary hands you your drinks and you bid him a quick bye, knowing he’ll just go back to his crossword puzzles in the back. Heading back over to sit next to bucky and hopefully find out he's not a zombie that's been raised from the dead.

“Your water, sergeant.” you joke, praying it doesn't hit a bad spot. Bucky was surprised by the name, he can't remember the last time someone called him that. His body feels weird.

You don't speak for a moment. You sip at your drink, hoping it will kick it as you didn't get your needed caffeine intake for the day as bucky was dragging you out the door to the museum.

You look at him through your eyelashes, he still looks like he's going to break down any second. 

“Are you a zombie?” 

“What?”

You set the cup down. “You died. So you must be a zombie. I can't believe I'm soulmates with a stalker zombie.”

Bucky's lip quirks up. You're such a dork, he thinks. He almost laughs, it more or less came out as an amused scoff. “I'm not a zombie, I didn't die.”

“Museums these days… always spreading fake information,” you mumble into your cup, taking a quick sip. Bucky smiles, slightly.

“No, I…” bucky trails off, you keep up with the jokes yet you give him a comforting, understanding look. “I fell off a train in the war, I was supposed to die.” bucky catches his breath, talking shouldn't be this hard. “I didn’t, Hydra found me and put me on ice.”

Your eyes perk up in understanding, “like Captain America, right? So why are you on the run then?” bucky looks down, and both of your hands are cupped around your drink. He wants to grab it.

“I'm not Captain America, I did a lot of bad things when Hydra had me. I killed…” Bucky trails off, and memories of Hydra came back to him. All he hears is the sound of guns, and all the blood, he can still smell it. The electricity buzzed in his head as Hydra did their best to strip everything from him, take everything out of him, and then put it back in. bucky can see it all.

You grab his hand and it stops, he just feels you. Your hands are so warm and he wants to cry suddenly. “You don't have to tell me, I do know about Hydra. They did fucked up shit, I know. I'm sure whatever you had to do, wasn't your fault.”

You lean in. too close. your hand raises to his face and you wipe away a stray tear. Had he been crying? 

Bucky lets out an unsteady breath. He can do this, you deserve an explanation. Bucky repeats in his head. He squeezes your hand gently. “They turned me into an assassin, they gave me a mission, and… I did it. I didnt know who I was before, but I didn’t... I didn’t know anything. I just knew my target.”

Your eyes are focused on him. “They had me on ice for most of it, like steve, that's why I don't remember anything. It's all so… foggy. I was sent on a mission and when I completed it I got put back under.”

“And when they needed me again, they'd just bring me back up again.”

“Like I was leftover food for them.”

You don't speak, you didnt dare to right now. Bucky's eyes were filled with anxiety as he watched you process the information. Your eyes fell, and you fiddled with your coffee cup. He saw you bite your lip again, he wanted to remind you not to. But the comment was lost in his throat. Bucky felt sick.

Say something. Please.

Your eyes glance at the silver metal shining between the cuff of his jacket and glove, something shines in your eyes, Bucky’s not quick enough to catch it before you're looking down again. Bucky is now convinced he ruined things on the first day of actually knowing you. He feels like he's going to throw up. Bucky is uncomfortable in his seat and suddenly the fresh warm air of the cafe makes him feel like he's suffocating. He goes to leave and never looks back, but your quicker this time. Grabbing his metal wrist before he gets the chance to stand. Bucky doesn't flinch this time.

“Buck, sit down.” you look at him now. “I don't hate you, calm down.”

He gulps. “You're scared of me though.”

“No.”

Bucky blinks at you, once, twice. “Why. I've killed so many-”

“Don't do that, bucky.” you shook your head at him. “Don't do that to yourself. I'm not dumb, you were a prisoner of war, a victim. You had no choice.”

A victim… he hadn't heard that word be used to describe him. 

Bucky's throat goes dry. His leg bounces under the table, he can't look at you. Bucky's eyes dart to the clock. Tick, tick, tick… the door. The other door. He feels trapped. 

You whisper, “bucky.”

Your name is the only thing that manages to escape Bucky’s lips. He sniffles, “Listen, I’m sor-”

“Hey, guys! Everything okay over here?”

 Emma's cheering voice interrupts Bucky, you both flinch back and your hand retracts from Bucky’s hand. He feels cold. Bucky's cold hand wipes away any extra tears left. You mumble a quick response, and a few thank you’s and she left a muffin in front of you. Bucky hears her footsteps receding. He should have heard her coming up, when did he get so useless? That could have been an enemy and, boom. He's dead. 

You push the blueberry muffin in front of bucky. “You like blueberries?” bucky looks at you, the muffin, back to you. Your lips are in a straight line, but your eyes are smiling. 

“Plums.”

You were caught off-guard. “What?”

“I like plums.”

You hum in response and split the muffin in two. One for you and one for bucky.

The next hour is mostly silent, bucky ordered a coffee of your recommendation. Well, more like you ordered it for him and guilt-tripped him into drinking it. It was sweet. You ordered another large cup and bucky takes a mental note to make you drink more water in the future. Your hands grasp your coffee and a book, he wants to hold it again. He wonders what it would feel like to hold you, all of you. 

He looks at the crossword puzzles you stole from the back for him. How could he possibly do a crossword puzzle when you're sitting in front of him? Bucky would glance up at you and he'd catch you looking at him, he looks away, and vice versa. Bucky is not shy, but sometimes he just gets nervous. How could you not? I mean, just look at you.

Your book falls from your grasp. “I don't want to intrude, but you are my stalker so I think I'm allowed to just a little.” bucky rolls his eyes. Your tone turns more serious  “Just tell me if I am intruding though…”

Bucky doesn't respond and lets you speak. You're hoping you are not going into a sensitive area. “How did you get out… is that why you're on the run?”

Bucky inhales sharply. His eyes flutter. A simple no was all he could push out. You don't know bucky well, but the look he's sporting is enough for you to stop asking any more questions. 

The clock reads 9:30. Shit.

“Fuck. work, I forgot about work.” you stand from your chair abruptly, the wooden chairs scraping against the floor. “I- we gotta go.”

I have nowhere to go, bucky thinks quickly. Before standing up with you, he doesn't say anything.

Grabbing both of your cups and chucking them in the trash, before returning the books to the counter. Bucky just stands there awkwardly, watching you. You notice and mumble a quick, “stalker” under your breath. Bucky pushes back a small grin. You gab his metal hand, covered by a glove, and push something into his hand. a key?

Bucky's eyebrows furrow but before he can get anything out. “You can't possibly think I’ll feel good knowing my soulmate is out on the run, probably sleeping behind some dumpster like a raccoon?”

“My roommate doesn't get home till tomorrow, and use the door his time!”

And with that, you’re speed-walking out, a soft jingle from the door as it closes. Bucky stands dumbfounded in the middle of the cafe as he blankly stares at the key in his gloved palm. His legs feel like jello. A soft cough from behind bucky brings him back to earth, it's the old man.

“Don't break their heart, I may be old and..” the old man, you said his name was Gary, looks bucky up and down. “...you may be big, but I'm sure I got a good right hook in here somewhere.”

Bucky feels warm and normal. Like he was a 15-year-old boy meeting his date's dad again. Bucky nods.

“I promise I will keep ‘em safe.”

tag list; @i-l-y-3000 @ivywasmaroon @waywardcrow @alana4610 @ozwriterchick @slytherinambitious @wintermischief

[redswaberkez]

ok so its been more than a month since my graphic screen is arrived and bein used almost every day for 6-12 hours its time to do a lil review under the cut

(obligatory warning for longreads my english is a crap and yada yada) my bby boaris (kabanchik) cintiq 16'. (old one from 2020) I bought the tablet for a loot of reasons, Very Reasonable ones and not so reasonable too LMAO. Earned money with blood and sweat (literally💥) ANYWAY. Tablet's size is perfect for my needs, not way too small, not way too big, the screen workspace is the same with my old laptop (give or take few mm) This cintiq isnt from manufactor, its used before tablet from someone else in 'from the assembly line' condition. As soon as tab arrived i immediately ordered a ptotective film to prevent the appearance of The Hole. You what im talking about.

I was afraid that it would be extremely inconvenient for me to work with it and that the purchase would generally be unsuccessful, because before ONCE IN MY LIFE 7 yrs ago i had an experience w cintiq 24' and it wasnt really comfortable then. AND i had always used a regular plain tablet. BUT NOOOPE everything is PERFECT and i love it.

PROS!! - brain loves to see what u are actually drawing. Its easier to control every single move and stroke therefore it drastically buffs your skill. The progress of it development i mean. U have to get used to it. the tablet itself wont give u a 'make my skill insane button' u have to WORK ON IT obviously. (says the one who've been stuck in cps for a month straight OUGH) - it works as another monitor. so u can do whatever u wish using two of them. or u can just buy random tablet screen and use it as a SINGLE monitor lmaooo. -doesnt overheat (my main display overheats noticeably thank god i dont need to place my arm over it). -uses one single thicc cable which divides into three at the end (usb hdmi and power cables) - thin, from 1cm to 1,5cm +-, wheights somewhere 1,5kgs, has small stand legs which gives it ahh +- 30 degrees tilt angle. U can travel with the tablet but it needs pc or laptop to be connected with. -i havent seen its guts but i bet the circuits are...fine... i hope so.. at least if it wont overheat then the circuits wont burn down.. makes sense.. yeah.... -I also didnt notice any problems with drivers or connection for this month. u just turn ur pc on and ready to go.

CONS. - ur neck is bout to die if u gonna work like me cuz its tilt is only 30 degs (u can buy a normal stand tho. or a monitor bracket and stop torturing urself). SHRIMP POSTURE CHEEEECK. - it doesn't have buttons like my tablet had. Its a taste preference honestly. for someone its a pros for me its a cons. EASILY COUNTERS BY it might seem crazy what im bout to say A KEYBOARD. you just need to get used to it. again. - should i even mention the price? ofc its a con. since mine is a former usage one it was a lil cheaper than usually. but I knew what I was buying ((WACOM)) so i aint complaining now. - small really small con: sometimes cps wont react to pen button clicks but ig its even a program problem than tablets (easily counters by pressing space button one time). its really just a biiit annoying and nothing special. It works great all of the time. - THE PEN TIP WEARS OFF WITH FIRST COSMIC VELOCITY. ig its affected by protective film (its matte). counters by TITAN PEN TIP (plus now its a weapon if u are brave enough) -due to its protective matte film there is a small insignificant diffs between two screens but its not really this big. At least between mine displays. Diff btw my old laptop screen colors and tablet is fucking HUGE (lap is a 12 yrs old veteran have some respect🙄) - OK OK OK LAST LITTLE NIGGLE. Since I play shooters like valorant and...cs.. and move my hand powerfully across the table, I HAD to look for *that very specific place* for the tablet so that everything would be perRRRFECT by millimeters (ocd moment)

notable mention that takes a special place in my heart

wait while we talk to your displays 😥😥😥😥 omg..... cried....died.... my sons...

thats all i can say for now

[fearowkenya]

Winds of Change

Chapter 5: Something in the Air

Shuuji knows something is amiss when he catches Syakomon let out an almost imperceptible sigh of relief. He’s lucky that the viscous surface of Syakomon’s slimy green body betrays her—the quiver of the otherwise silent exhale sends a faint, wobbly shockwave across her skin, and she jiggles ever so slightly in her shell, as though somebody’s just set down a cautious bowl of lime-flavored jello.

Supposedly, the worst is over, but Shuuji can't shake the feeling that there's something the Kemonogami aren't telling him.

ao3 link in source , extended end-of-chapter author's notes under the cut!

oh BOY the editing situation was a doozy. granted, i was also busy with work, but even then this chapter needed a TON of reworking, much much more than chapter 4 did. like i said on ao3, it got to the point where this chapter was so long that i had to split it in two.

i also mentioned that this chapter marks the beginning of the second half of this fic. chapters 1-4 make up part one, which i'd summarize as "how did we get here?", and then from 5-8, the focus will be "what happens next?". it helped a LOT to recontextualize chapters 5-7 (now 5-8) as an answer to chapters 1-4, and i think it'll make editing easier going forward; i have much more direction now and a better idea of what needs to be expanded on and what needs to be cut.

unfortunately, like i said, i had to omit a lot of saki-centric stuff. she is the scariest character for me to write, and i think i need to progress more thru my replay of truthful before i feel confident enough to write from her perspective. it works out anyway, because the part i cut had shuuji taking a very passive role and just observing interactions between saki and floramon, and it felt very drawn-out and unnecessary. this is my favorite cut segment tho

im really hoping to be able to figure out what an aoi-miu-saki dynamic looks like as i get more comfortable writing the three of them. i think it could be really fun. also i think it would be so funny if miu and saki bring out a mischievous side of aoi that would otherwise not exist. much to think about.

anyway. another challenge i had with editing this chapter was the topography of the beach area the group hangs out at before moving on to the shopping district and apartment complex. for some reason i was convinced the rocky beach area was like.. up on a cliffside? but then i looked at the map and got REAL confused. the beach is super super narrow, and that was really inconvenient when i needed shuuji to be somewhere relatively out of the way, where he could have a conversation with agumon that takuma cannot hear, while still being able to see takuma. so thats why i spent an hour and change squinting at the tiniest png of the map and reorganizing where people spend their time

if my handwriting is illegible (from left to right) (oh my god now that ive added the image to the post its a nightmare. idk why im even posting it. lord. im not sure opening it in a new tab will help) factory residential area shopping district woods near shopping district minoru up here group rests here waterway exit from shaft here instead; rest of waterway rock w/ supplies hill down from the waterway shuuji rests here pt 6 argument happens here aoi & ryo here in ch4 (this is where they were keeping watch) miyuki here

i didnt make many changes; mostly i just moved people around. the one thing that i DID change though was the placement of the waterway entrance. i have NO IDEA why the game has it in the middle of the fucking ocean. like i know theres a tunnel there, but surely the entrance to that tunnel isn't underwater right? i then poured another hour and change learning about waterways, trying to figure out where it made the most sense to put the exit before remembering that it doesn't matter because the digital world doesn't play by human world rules. oops! it was still super interesting though! please look up 'tokyo g-cans' if you ever get the chance, its fucking fascinating. if i ever go back to japan id like to go down there, maybe.

obligatory commentary about the map:

oh my god it seems too big for what we actually see but im not a cartographer so i dont know for sure

the shopping district/apartment complex is visible from the beach but i feel like it shouldn't be: on the map it looks like it's on a cliff face while from the beach it looks like it's shore level

i've been reading half the green patches as dense tree cover but now that i think about it, that might just be open grassland. oops. it's all trees now.

i wish we could go to the sandy beach areas to the north and east ends of the island!!! that could've been fun!

i really appreciate that the second island is shaped vaguely like a beluga

in other news, agumon was much easier to write than i was worried he would be, and it was nice to work out how he felt about what happened in the waterway. one thing ive noticed about agumon on a second truthful run is that he and takuma are equally awful about pushing down their own feelings for the sake of the ones of their friends. a lot of the others seem to view agumon as the guy who is always Staying Silly , no thoughts head empty. while i DO think that that's a genuine part of his personality, i think it also happens sometimes that he uses that image to downplay his concerns.

my favorite part to write this chapter was labramon's dialogue at the end. and also baby stats. baby stats was the ONE THING i REFUSED to cut. non-negotiable. it's been in my notes since the beginning and digimon survived all edits of this chapter, and i was DETERMINED to keep it.

all right im getting sleepy and i want to post this chapter and then go to bed. as usual please dont be afraid to leave a comment, i looooove finding out people's favorite parts, and im still curious about your Gamer Theories, especially now that i think what i'm foreshadowing is becoming clearer and clearer >:3c

couldn't tell you for sure when ch6 will be out. ideally it won't involve as much editing as ch5, but it's hard to say. thank you for reading, and i'll be back as soon as i can!

[minisugakoobies]

K, F, M:

-Long distance boyfriend Koo that face-times you at all hours. As inconvenient it is, he can always sense when you need him.

-Best friend's little bro San that isn't afraid to always show you extra attention and be there for you, including just laying on the floor with you when you've had a rough day.

-Sarcastic, cheeky stranger Minho that vocalizes your frustration with the homemade cat treats always being sold out. Pays an arm and a leg for a special batch and gives you half of a treat because he's a dick and wants you to come back to him for more.

Can't I marry them all???

*sighs* Fine.

I'm gonna marry bff's little bro Sannie. Cuddles 24/7. Plus I bet he'd let me use his chest as a pillow when we're lying on the floor.

Ok… possibly surprising pick here… but I'm gonna fuck Minho. I just… I'm weak for a sarcastic man, especially one who's gonna make me work for his attention/affections. God help me.

So that leaves… I can't even type it 😭 It's purely a geography thing! I've done long distance and it sucks so much… ugh, don't look at me!

[astridthevalkyrie]

trauma dump so my dad and i work in the same company right. he sits about twenty feet away from me (yeah it's fantastic i don't wanna jump out the window somtimes at all) but anyways today he comes over to my desk and in english and loud enough that my colleagues could hear he's like "your shower is clogged you need to fix it!" and a. my sisters and i have been telling him this for weeks so the fact that he is acting like he didn't know shows how little he actually listens to us and b. he only knows now bc since her bathroom is being painted my mother took a shower in ours and inconveniences only matter when it's inconveniences for them and c. he could have said this QUIETLY or in URDU and it would be fine but no apparently asking for respect in the workspace is too much to ask for so i told him "can you be a little less condescending about it?" and he got even more peeved and said he wasn't being condescending and was just telling me to clean out the clog (something i didn't even realize i could do like i didn't know i could lift the thing in the shower bc it looks screwed on and he's never told me this before) so i was like "okay whatever" and he walked away and i KNOW at least one of my colleagues overheard bc he joked something like "that sounded serious" so um. and yesterday my mom randomly got pissed at my sister and told me to stop teaching her to blame everything on my mother and i didn't wanna fight so i just said kay and tried to keep the mood positive with my mother because who am i if i'm not playing emotional support eldest daughter all the time and my dad heard the sound of conflict and went into the basement like the bystander and enabler he is!! anyways i have started another keigo fic that will most likely flop as well but idc because i'm having fun writing for him but i'm not having fun at home and i still lack the energy to find a therapist especially bc i know i'd have to pay for it out of pocket and i'd hear it from my parents (SEPARATELY ffs) that they don't think i need therapy but my sister has had trichotillomania for years and they're only now kinda seriously registering her into therapy after being told my several different doctors to do that because she has a fucking ANXIOUS TICK and they just don't see the correlation they don't see why she would have that and my mom keeps calling her crazy as though the woman doesn't have a barrage of mental health issues that she just refuses to address she has a therapist that she chooses not to talk to she takes depression pills she has meltdowns but it's oooover the second anyone else feels an emotion and now (and always) i'm being told that i'm teaching my sister to hate her and disobey her like BABE!!!! you are UNLIKEABLE and there is a reason no one in the house wants to spend time with you!!!! i'm already in this one stupid class that my parents pushed me into that i don't wanna get into but it's so annoying bc it takes up at least two hours aside from my 7:30 to 5 pm shift which if i go into office means i have to catch a 6 am train and be back at like 6:30 pm so i always push myself to stay up as late as i can to get some alone time where i can relax and then i wake up miserable and i push goals for myself to eat healthier and exercise bc i've gained weight even though everyone says i look like i don't eat (i don't) my mom will just randomly make a comment like "i can see your stomach poking out" or some SHIT like that and she's constantly trying to get me to drink her goddamn disgusting homemade mint water that will make my skin clearer and brighter but i like my brown skin and i'm not SELF HATING like some people! and she keeps bugging me to text the lady from this matchmaking service she enrolled me into but i do not WANT to because none of those men will like me because i god forbid put in my bio that i have ideals that i will not budge from and that i am a feminist and i need someone who will respect that i'm allowed to have as much freedom as them and desi men can't stomach that shit so. and my grandma uncle and his two kids are visiting this

(hit the character block limit) weekend and i have to make it into a fun game for my sister to always be around him and interact with everyone bc if me or her try to refill our social batteries in our rooms or interact with EACH OTHER instead of everyone else my mother will think it's the equivalent of stripping naked in front of everyone despite how she embarrasses us every fucking CHANCE she gets especially around her family and my grandma is back to living with us for at least a few months after this which means she'll sleep in my bed which means she'll use my pillows and take up half the bed and every time this happens my CHRONIC BACK PAIN FORGOT ABOUT THAT acts up more than usual so i'm considering sleeping downstairs but i tend to get anxious when i do that i'm just hoping it doesn't happen this time bc i'd rather be depressed as shit instead of anxious and anxiety scares me so bad i get into my own head so easily and i hate taking meds apparently i need vitamin d pills for the rest of my life and taking them makes me feel sick and i don't drink water no matter how hard i try bc the more i drink the more sick i feel and sometimes i go days without drinking water and sometimes i don't eat and sometimes i'm starving but after a single bite i'm full and somehow i'm still gaining weight and i can't expect anyone to care about this constantly because i'm no one's goddamn concern or burden anyways today i'm feeling really introspective and i want to sit with my feelings for a bit but i can't because once i get home (in the train right now) i have to have a one on one meeting with my course instructor and i miss acting but at the same time every time i think of it i think of that horrible incident a few months ago where i agreed to be in the ensemble of wizard of oz and the experience was so bad and the people were so awful and i was the only woc there and they treated me like dirt under their shoe and every time we had a show to put on i felt ill from how miserable i was and now i'm scared all my acting experiences will all be like this and i'm so tired i want to be held and comforted and i want someone to allow me to cry without telling me to cheer up and i want to stop being so nervous every time i meet someone new and i want my skin to be clearer and i want to be healthier and i want my mother to stop abusing me and i want to just sleep in for a whole day and have no one bother me and i want to answer all these asks in my inbox because some are more than a year old and i feel so bad and i go back to school in the fall and i'll be working full time and i can't even say well i guess i had a good break year because i didn't i was working the whole time and i'm almost always around one parent and i want to write without my wrists feeling pain and i want everyone to leave me alone.

[huntingthehaggis]

your sasuke in sasuke vs the united shinobi nations is so girl on period core (me) and i think that’s beautiful . every time he makes yet anthoer horrible decision i feel so seen . validated even. naruto is the confused but supportive boyfriend . the mood swings. the mental breakdown over the zip & naruto comforting him without any idea of what is going on. the wild baby fever. the subsequent running away from problems (getting the apartment) which followed ten seconds after the baby fever. the shaking crying sobbing throwing up at the smallest inconvenience. the pajamas at all times 24/7 “Sasuke spent the evening sulking. Unfortunately for him, his sulking wasn’t altogether distinguishable from his regular temperament. The subtleties seemed to be lost on Naruto” i laughed so much. “Instead he cried for half an hour, got up to run a bath, discovered the hot water was out again, sat in the two inches of lukewarm water and cried some more, read a few chapters of Icha Icha Paradise, and hauled himself back out of the now-stone-cold bath to doze fitfully for an hour or so on the couch.” so freaking accurate. and i know that his behavior is mostly bc a) he’s dramatic and b) the phycological devastation of having your entire family massacred by your brother but he’s a princess to me. a babygirl even. thank you so much. now every time i have period cramps i imagine projecting them onto him and i feel 10 times better . ur doing gods work. the way you write narusasu is so god tier. Thank you .

jndaskasjdjksakjdnsjas this conceptualization had literally never occurred to me but you're soooooooo right. thank you for enlightening me.

[influencermagazineuk]

Nicki Minaj Apologizes to Fans as Co-op Live Show Postponed at Last Minute After Star's Arrest

Shawn Grant, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons Nicki Minaj’s concert at the Co-op Live arena in Manchester was abruptly postponed, disappointing thousands of fans who had gathered to see the star perform. The postponement came after Minaj, 41, was arrested at Amsterdam's Schiphol Airport on suspicion of possessing soft drugs. The American rapper, known for her hits like "Starships" and "Super Bass," was held by Dutch authorities just hours before her scheduled performance. Minaj later took to social media to apologize to her fans after finally arriving in Manchester late on Saturday night. On X, she posted, "Thank you to everyone who prayed for me today. May God cover you and all that is connected to you. May you be blessed beyond your imagination. Please please please accept my deepest & most sincere apologies." Despite the star's detention, fans were initially let into the indoor venue on Saturday evening. A post on the arena's X account at around 5:15 pm informed attendees that the general admission and premium doors for Minaj’s show would now open at 7:00 pm. Minaj was released from custody just before 9 pm, but she faced a fine for "illegally exporting soft drugs from the Netherlands to another country," according to Dutch police. Even with her release, Minaj could not make it to Manchester in time for the concert. Early on Sunday, she posted a live stream on Instagram from central Manchester, showing a crowd of fans gathered in the street below. Promoters Live Nation announced that the gig would be rescheduled, assuring fans that their tickets would remain valid for the new date, which would be announced as soon as possible. The statement read, "Despite Nicki's best efforts to explore every possible avenue to make tonight's show happen, the events of today have made it impossible. We are deeply disappointed by the inconvenience this has caused." Minaj also shared details of her arrest on X and Instagram, claiming that customs officials at Schiphol Airport found drugs in her luggage. "They said they found weed," she wrote, adding that the authorities "took my luggage without consent" and were trying to prevent her from reaching Manchester. She pointed out the irony of being detained in Amsterdam, a city known for its lenient marijuana laws, stating, "This is Amsterdam btw, where weed is legal." The star also posted a video apparently showing an airport official requesting her to have her luggage checked. She expressed frustration with the delay, noting, "It's a 45 minute to an hour flight. So they're probably trying to stall for about 4 hours." She later added, "Now they said I have to go 5 mins away to make a statement about my security to the police precinct." Robert van Kapel, a spokesman for the Royal Netherlands Marechaussee military police, confirmed the arrest to Sky News' US partner network NBC News, stating, "We can confirm that we have arrested a 41-year-old American woman at Schiphol Airport because of possession of soft drugs." The postponement left many fans disheartened. Charu, a self-described "die-hard Nicki fan" who traveled from Liverpool, expressed her disappointment, saying, "My sister and I had been looking forward to this for months. I'm in the middle of taking my medical school exams and had been working around this day." She noted that many fans had traveled from various parts of the UK and even Ireland, spending significant amounts on travel and accommodation. "People around us said they'd traveled from Ireland and Scotland, paid for hotels for the night in Manchester, which is not cheap. So the fact that tickets will be refunded or still valid for another concert doesn't really put into perspective the time and money that we have all spent on this night." Charu mentioned that the announcement about the postponement came around 9:30 pm, which felt disrespectful to the fans' time and efforts. She observed that many concert-goers were "sobbing" after the news broke and expressed skepticism about being able to attend the rescheduled concert due to potential conflicts with work, travel expenses, and other commitments. Minaj’s Pink Friday 2 World Tour is set to continue with performances in Birmingham on Sunday and at London’s O2 arena next Tuesday. She is also scheduled to perform in Glasgow on Wednesday, followed by another show at the Co-op Live in Manchester on Thursday. The newly opened £365m Co-op Live arena, the UK's largest indoor entertainment venue, has faced several challenges since its launch. Despite setbacks, the venue finally opened for live music on May 14 with a performance by Manchester rock band Elbow. However, ongoing issues with the building's ventilation system have caused several delays and cancellations of other scheduled performances. Read the full article

[didisabitch]

having child alters can be such a burden.

i never realized how much of my personality they encompassed, no one really talks abt how much your life completely fucking shifts when you find out you have DID and other people have been popping their heads out for years in situations they shouldn’t have.

before i realized i had child alters they were still rearing their heads in the same ugly, breakdown way. maybe it’s good, that i know where the breakdowns come from now, or maybe it makes no difference. i don’t know

they are named Aiden and Alice, my child alters. Aiden’s age is more...flexible, I guess? Where I feel like his standard age that he is most typically at is probably around 13/14, but he regresses very easily. And Alice is like 6/7 but regresses a bit also, sometimes. (Both are he/him).

I love them dearly, or at least i am trying to. and my fiance also says he loves them dearly but to me, they’re just a burden

of course they’ve always been here, but they are very emotionally needy/their behaviors when unknown to be a child alter would come across as a very, very clingy partner in a relationship. but now that my fiance knows they exist and doesn’t mind being around them sometimes i (the host) feel like they pop their heads out way too fucking often and take advantage of that kindness

my fiance has did too, and before that was established he was the sub/baby in the relationship and i was the dom/daddy and I feel like Aiden and Alice feeling more emboldened to try and front, or control my emotions etc have impacted my ability to be the person i wanted for him. the person i fought to be for so long but i never truly was more than a sad crying 7-year-old so scared of being hated or abandoned. don’t get me wrong, i am still his dom in a lot of ways but also Aiden and Alice end up requiring a lot of emotional caring out of him sometimes, similar to what one would expect for a sfw little space dom. not to even mention my Eugene Fitzherbert fictive, who is annoyingly a fucking switch despite the fact that i really, really didn’t want him to be that.

i just wanted to be a big, strong man, always be the one to take care of my fiance and have low support needs. the hard dom that hardly needed anything from his sub ever except cuddles and kisses. because he deserves to be supported, he deserves to be just a sub like i know he truly wants, and we knew he was a system first, etc. i just wanted to be everything that I wasn’t for him and i tried so hard to fit the mold of what i thought would be best for him. to be honest i should have known i was lying to him about i/us overall being a switch. because that’s what i honest to god am, as the host i am dom-leaning but for the people in my head it varies. some of my alters like Ian, Liam and Cass (which is also my name, but I mean my Tangled fictive Cass) are hard doms. and like, the kids are kids so they aren’t necessarily a sub or anything but like i said, they are definitely a big source of the behavior that is really needy and acts more on the romantic neediness side of things sometimes especially when they’re impacting my behavior or co-conning and i didn’t fucking know or want them there

i hate that i’m not really a dom, and i hate that my kids like to rear their heads at any small inconvenience, i am really trying to work on both of those things i just wish i could be a better dom for my sweetie, or that my fucking hard dom alters would come out more and kick the children away

everyone says i’m mean for how much i hate the kids, and that they’re just kids, but it’s true and i wish they didn’t exist and i wish i could just be the good dom i want to be and hide all my submissive tendencies from him, i tried to for so long and all it ended up doing was costing us a fuck ton because i went crazy trying to be a hard dom, i just wish it’s what i was for him

and he’s in class right now and the kids have been crying screaming since he left an hour ago i sometimes really just wish i could fucking integrate them or get rid of them i hate them so fucking much

fucking burdens

[aquoteamusetheword]

67 Stitches Later

 “Adversity is an uninvited, unwanted friend in the hands of an all-knowing God whose purpose is to wean us of our self-dependency and pride.” ~ Chip Ingram

 11/11/2013

 The Accident

 Around 5:30 pm I was carrying a large frame with broken glass. Despite my training and better judgment, I was not paying attention to what I was doing. I leaned back to answer a question and the staples that I should not have trusted to hold the glass gave way and a 3' x 12" piece of glass fell into my forearm. I screamed, not in pain, but because I saw it happening and could do nothing to stop it. I knew it was pretty bad. The staff handed me a wad of paper towels, we headed for the kitchen and they dialed 911. I was holding my arm above my head; there was a lot of blood but not a severed-artery amount of blood. My hand was tightening up, but all my fingers and my thumb worked. I took a second, thanked God for my calm, lack of injury, lack of pain and asked Him to comfort our staff. It was in slow motion! Like a car wreck. Alice (a staff member) called Leigh and was very calm. I talked to Leigh and thought I was pretty calm. I told her I would call her when I was situated and knew my destination. 

The Ambulance

The EMTs got me into the ambulance and informed me that North Fulton was the best choice for care. I called Leigh back and told her not to be in any hurry because I was sure it would take hours and for her to go ahead and attend her "Women at the Well" meeting and that I would call later. She said okay, that she loved me and to call her soon. When I got off the phone, Mark, (a mountain of a tattooed EMT man) said, "I am not trying to scare you but you sure are calm. That’s a bad cut." He was concerned that I was going into shock. I informed him that I had prayed and that I was in no pain, my hand still worked and if it was really bad the lights would be on and we would be darting in and out of traffic and running red lights. He laughed and his phone rang. His ring tone was Brandon Heath’s "Give Me Your Eyes.” I told him that was cool because I was part of a group of men that had just done life together this year and that song was the epitome of the prayer I asked them to pray for me. That I would see people as God sees them, not for what they do that angers or inconveniences me. That I would see their pain and offer unconditional love before I offer judgment. He asked if he could pray that prayer now as well as a prayer for my comfort and healing. It was an awesome prayer. He told me that he had grown up in church but fell away in his teens and college. After becoming an EMT, God started working on his heart. He would respond to gunshot wounds, domestic violence, drug overdoses, fatal car accidents, etc... He knew that if he was going to be the last person that someone saw on this earth that he had to be prepared to be God's hands and mouth. He is now involved in a church and leads a bible study with other EMTs. I prayed for him and his ministry. Time had flown by; we were at the hospital and I was not even thinking about my arm!

The Hospital

I was admitted at 6:15pm. The RN administered Dilaudid for pain and told me the doctor would be in shortly. I called Leigh, she was on her way (not the first time she knew not to listen to me) and she told me that our friends Lynn and Tom were on their way. She had been very busy. Our friend Barry’s men’s group was meeting when Leigh texted him, and they all prayed for me.  All of Leigh’s "Women at the Well" were praying for me.  Our small group was praying for me. It was unbelievable and very humbling. The doc came in and told me no phone calls during surgery. I told Leigh bye and he went to work. He was funny and had a bit of a potty mouth. Lynn and Tom arrived and sat through the sewing up process. Lynn smiled, held my hand and comforted me.  Tom occupied the doc with SEC football talk. Time flew by again. We were discharged before 7:30! Leigh was stuck in traffic so we filled the prescription and met her in Buckhead. 

Home 

The next morning, Jenni brought banana nut bread. Elizabeth came over to show Leigh signs to look for during my healing and how to dress the wound. My phone and Leigh’s phone were constantly going off with calls and texts from countless people throughout the day. Peggy and Roc brought homemade potato soup, Mikie's Big Burger provided veggie wraps, Carol made veggie burgers. My Dad called multiple times to check on me with concern and compassion in his voice. It goes on and on and on ....

 Conclusion

Sometimes God uses something like accidents to slow us down and show us how many people care about and love us. I was and still am humbled and honored by the outpouring of compassion and concern. I had no pain outside of what I would call discomfort. Everything that I needed was provided. Looking back, He walked with me every step of the way. I praise God that I see it in this light and give Him all of the honor, glory and praise.

Philippians 1:3, Ephesians 1:16, Philemon 1:4

[tanoraqui]

Of the Golden Horde

An Account of the Daughters of Finrod and Amarië, Their Names and Temperaments. For @finweanladiesweek​ a couple hours late for Day 4 - Later Generations. I definitely mis-conjugated and mis-translated everything; please don’t judge.

[polished version on AO3!]

1. Nolórwë (Q) / Nolorben (S) - (one who is) wise heart (for Andreth Saelind, “wise heart”)

Nolórwë is firstborn, and it is said that when her father first held her, he said thoughtfully—after a considerable amount of cooing and beaming—“Now that I’m meeting her properly, ‘Ingoldë’ doesn’t seem quite right…but I still find myself loathe to break all tradition…”

“Isn’t it my traditional right to name her Ingoldë?” Amarië asked from her bed.

“I thought you wanted to do the fin name,” said Finrod, sitting beside her with their babe in his arms.

“I do want to do the fin name,” Amarië admitted. “What’s the point of marrying into the House of Finwë if I don’t get to give at least my firstborn child a politically loaded name about their hair?” She reached over and ran an admiring hand over their brand-new daughter’s soft head. “Look at it…feel it… It’s like corn silk.”

After some more cooing, mutual congratulation, and contemplating and complaining that Nerdanel has ruined naming one’s child “prettiest baby” for everyone, their discussion returned to the matter of names for the wise.

“Ingoldiel,” Finrod ideated as the yet-unnamed headbutted her mother’s breast with vague concept that it was important. “Nolalissë, Noleth… Nolnor, Nolonárë, Nolonárwen…”

“Would you like,” Amarië said, with the mix of gentleness and wry amusement known best to loving wives, “to simply name her Nolórwë and invite her to remember Andreth Saelind with you, instead of pretending to be subtle about it?”

Finrod looked to her with great affection, for well she knew his heart.

Nolorwë, named Findaranel by her mother (Finwë/hair princess; S: Finriel), grew up to be an eminent scholar among the Noldor and Vanyar, and took no small part in the Great Debates of the Third Age. Among her family and friends, however. she is best known for:

Being right about 99% of the time about absolutely everything (positive (sometimes begrudgingly))

Knowing it (negative)

Being the only person who could consistently command the silence, attention, and at least potential obedience of all her younger sisters with one absolutely ear-piercing whistle. (An eldest sister of 5-7, often traveling and even more often left to babysit, must develop what techniques she can)

2. Mínakánis (Q) / Mingoneth (S) - eager-to-go/start chieftain (f) (for Barahir, “fiery/eager lord/master”)

“Oh! She’s a biter!” Finrod is said to have said in delight of his second daughter.

“I hope not too much!” Amarië laughed and held out her hands. “Give her back, she’s hungry.”

“Mínakánis you shall be,” Finrod informed his eager daughter, as he reluctantly but dutifully returned her to her mother’s arms. He tickled her toes until they curled up. “Would you leap into a swamp to save a foolish lord from a bunch of nasty orcs? Yes you would! I think you would!”

Had Mínakánis been born seven hundred years earlier, she would’ve stood in the Great Square of Tirion at the start of a seemingly endless night and thought with two and a half of her uncles that Fëanáro was an ass and possibly mad as well, but he did have a point about the attraction of strange new lands to explore, to be free in, to conquer and defend with deeds of legend. She would have crossed the Ice and likely died in the Dagor Bragollach.

Fortunately, though to her sometimes-frustration, she was born in the early Second Age. Of her parents’ lives of itinerant diplomacy, itinerant appealed to her and diplomacy did not; from an early age she was skilled at sneaking out of parties to get muddy, climb trees, and generally frustrate her older sister to no end. Later, she toyed with the Hunt of Oromë, the Races of Nessa, the Trials of Tulkas… The last suited her best, though still she felt stifled at times. She was more skilled with a sword than many veterans of Beleriand. She just wanted to be useful with it.

For many centuries, Mínakánis split her time between the training yards and the life of a sailor, soon captain among her Telerin cousins. She traded with Númenor until it was forbidden on both sides, and then she smuggled for many more years. She flirted with Ossë in his fiercest tempers.

She was happiest of all when the world Changed and Valinor’s new, tangential location set it more on the barrier between Without and Within—giving its people a duty, should they accept it, of guarding the latter from the former. The Greatest Evil is kept out by the guard of the Valar, but there are pettier dark and dangerous things that gnaw at the edges of the world, sometimes from both sides. Most who live in Valinor these days live in the untroubled peace they were once promised, but others pace the borders on guard under the leadership of the Warrior, or ride out with the Hunt when on rare occasion the Tulkandil need backup. Love not the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for their glory; but only that which they defend, say the wise - but there are some who can love both. Mínakánis is one such a warrior - and she still does sail, don’t get me wrong. She just fights a lot more sea monsters.

3. Maranwetar (Q) / Manatar (S) - queen of destiny (for Turin "Turambar", "master of fate")

“Pityalaurë, the playpen is not going to move or open,” Amarië called across the open kitchen. “Perhaps you could just play with your blocks until dinner is ready?”

Her third daughter stood back up on her wobbly, 18-month-old legs; glared at Amarië through the playpen’s sheer-cloth wall, and charged the wall again with the determination of a bull. And fell down again.

“Have you still not named her?” asked Finduilas, sipping wine and stirring soup while Amarië basted the chicken.

“At this rate, I think we’re going to call her ‘Pityalaurë,” Elenwë teased, sipping wine at the table and stirring nothing at all. “It’s His Majesty who’s still dithering.”

Amarië flicked a gibbet at her good-naturedly.

“Finrod keeps hoping to recognize someone in her,” she explained to her great-niece. “Not that he needs to, to love her - you’ve seen how all these girls have him wrapped around their fingers! But now that he’s named two for remembrance, he so wants to keep it up - but ‘it needs to be right,’ you know.” She quoted wryly.

She watched her daughter get to her feet again, stare in determination at the playpen wall, duck her head, and backup a couple feet, kicking aside soft blocks, in order to get a better running head start.

She didn’t seem to be having fun, per se, but she also wasn’t crying or even bored. On her third child, and with dinner to get ready before her husband and the older girls got back from their hike, Amarië knew that this was a solid win.

Pityalaurë rebounded and fell down again. It was a very sturdy playpen. She got up once more, visibly more determined than ever.

Finduilas watched with an odd expression on her face.

“Have you considered ‘Thurineth’?” she asked. “That is, ‘Folissë’...or maybe Edainelwen...”

Manatar was, of course, eventually named for one of Túrin’s more impressive titles, albeit with an optimistic twist. Don’t let the Finwëan ancestry fool you: she gets that stone-wall stubbornness directly from her mother.  

(A brief aside on Amarië of the Vanyar: when word came of Findaráto’s death, Amarië’s mother waited a few polite days and then said gently, “Maybe this is for the best, really... You can move on. To someone less...Doomed.” The next night, Amarië arrived at the royal palace in Tirion with a suitcase, asked dry-eyed if she could stay, and more or less appointed herself Arafinwë’s assistant secretary, and later aide-de-camp. Finrod - firmly calling himself ‘Finrod - was re-embodied before the War, but not allowed to join the Host; they eloped a few hours before she sailed east. She reconciled with her parents when she got home 50-odd years later.)

Manatar was the first of the “Golden Horde” to give her parents a grandchild. First a wild possum when she was thirteen years old (the elf equivalent of about six), and later an actual elven child. Which she did not find in the woods. Really.

I’m not sure where she and her wife settled down - it was in a community that doesn’t exist yet in the First Age or earlier, I think. Somewhere with a lot of Returned and/or Sailed Sindar, maybe (thus she uses a Sindarin name). Wherever it is, there’s some sort of farm, and it’s where all her far-flung sisters come home to for the holidays. 

4. Mothername: Tindómiel (Q) / Tinúviel (S) - nightingale (lit: daughter of twilight)  Fathername: Veryawendë (Q) / Berenwen (S) - bold maiden 

It is said that when they first beheld their fourth daughter together, wrinkled of face and dark blond of hair, Finrod was struck by recognition of temperament and by vague but certain foresight of great deeds, and said immediately, “Berenwen”; and Amarië was struck for the first time by true mother’s foresight, a vision of Song in a dark place and irrevocable change in the world, and she said at the same time, “Tinúviel.”

They looked at each other. They looked down at their daughter in Amarië’s arms, wrinkled of face and dark blond of hair. They looked at each other again.

“Oh wow,” said Amarië. “She’s going to fuck up so much. In a good way, I hope.”

“Are you okay?” Finrod asked, now struck suddenly by the founding anxiety of the House of Finwë. “I mean, are you feeling well? You’re not– That was a longer labor than usual, but you’re a normal amount of tired from it, right? Proportionately? You didn’t - I didn’t pour any more energy into this child than the others, and I didn’t notice you - ”

“I’m not disproportionately weary and I’m not going anywhere, Ingoldo,” Amarië promised, and leaned up to kiss him gently on the forehead. Then she leaned down to press an even softer kiss to Tinúviel’s soft fuzz. “Not without you and all our girls, not ever.”

It is not known at the time of this writing what Tinúviel Berenwen will do to irrevocably change the world. She was not involved in the Fall of Númenor. She did not participate much in the Great Debates of the Third Age - not the posting of the Ninety-Five Theses, not the Diet of Valimar, not the Excommunication of Melian and all that followed. (She did take part in a few experimental Oaths, but she had nothing to do with the Return of the House of Fëanor - not that anyone but Findis really did). She did not even sneak off to Middle Earth to participate in the Quest of the Ring, though she did think about it.

She did quite a lot of jewelcraft, actually, though she tended to avoid working with captured light. She specialized in single-gem statues carved such that the light reflected off and within them made them seem to move. She also Sang, and this, she managed to find her own voice in, though she still preferred not to do it in public.

(It occurs to me that Tinúviel Tindómiel and Celebrimbor get along fantastically once he re-embodies in the early Third Age).

Personally, my money is on Tindómiel being the one to figure out how the Eldar can physically leave Arda, probably in ships that sail the Void. But that would require me to figure out the metaphysics of outer space in Éa, and I’m not doing that right now. I do not, for the record, think they could stop being tied to Arda. I just think maybe they could get away for a while.

(There’s nothing like being named “Tinúviel Berenwen” to make you desperate to escape absolutely everything and everyone you grew up with, and all their expectations.)

5. Satarissë (Q) / Sadeth (S) - trusty follower/loyal companion [feminine] (for Beor, "vassal")

It is said that when Finrod Felagund, Friend of Men, first held and fully beheld his fifth daughter with the insight for which he was known, he spoke with joy and satisfaction and a little relief: “There you are, old friend.” 

Satarissë’s sisters have complained that she’s Dad’s favorite because she reminds him of his favorite Man. This is almost certainly untrue. Satarissë’s sisters have complained that she’s Dad’s favorite, and everyone else’s to boot, because she’s the baby of the family (for several millennia). This is probably true.

Like her namesake, Satarissë was a loyal friend, a daring leader, and more politically savvy than most people give her credit for - until they learned better. She was everyone’s favorite charming, golden, sweetest babiest princess. She learned from Great-Aunt Lalwen (though Lalwen was as much the Hostess (and Spymaster) of Barad Eithel as she was the Royal Gem of Tirion, now; somehow they averaged out to Lady of Tol Eressëa). She learned from her parents, especially Finrod - and the reason all these kids grew up as the children of itinerant diplomats is that...

At the end of the War of Wrath, when the Host of the West returned to the ever-Amanyar and the Doomed began to return by ship and re-embodiment, and more and more elves began to sail to the promised land... Between his initial repentance and his leadership and valor in the War, Arafinwë was generally respected among all factions. Eärwen had spent most of the War standing on decks, docks, and the very edges of shore and smoothing the way between Teleri and Noldor, Vanyar and Falathrim, Maiar and Avari and Edain, and she, too, was well-regarded. Lalwen knew everyone who was anyone in Beleriand and everyone who was still alive by the end, and they knew her. And there were others among all the peoples of the Quendi who are commonly respected, liked, and skilled enough at diplomacy to make up for the fact that nobody else was, in this suddenly created melting pot of PTSD and unresolved grudges.

But only one person was a blessedly returned crown prince of the Noldor-who-stayed and a respected, often beloved former king of the Noldor-who-left and a lord by grandparentage and marriage of the Vanyar and a returned-and-forgiven prince of the Teleri and a well-known, esteemed friend and ally of every faction of the Beleriandrim, and by nature and honed talent a maker of strange friends, weaver of alliances, and welcomer of weary, perhaps morally dubious refugees...and that was Finrod. So, yeah, they did a lot of traveling, mostly to put out metaphorical and sometimes literal fires - and because it was fun. Traveling is almost always fun, especially with an ever-increasing horde (hoard) of cheerfully energetic, all very blond children.

...the sweetest, babiest, everything-to-everyone-est of whom is Satarissë! And she has a lot to live up to - her oldest sister was a respected loremaster by the age of 200, her second-oldest was beloved of the Warrior, third was Maranwetar whom everyone liked without any effort on her part, fourth was freaking Tinúviel, who was soon a master crafter to boot - and her mother had been part of the final party to confront Morgoth, for fuck’s sake! While all Satarissë was good at was charm and politics, and on a good day, rhetoric. So she ruthlessly leveraged being beloved Finrod’s most beloved daughter into...whatever seemed like a good idea at the time, mostly. Getting a vast bridge built between two mountain cities. Settling newly re-embodied Avari into new homes without disrupting their new neighbors. Studying and testing various forms of government on a small scale until she was ready to convince everyone to create a parliament of the Noldor to better represent the interests of the later-born - and when that started to fall apart in a millennia or so, a multi-branch governmental structure; and 800 years after that...

Even into the Fourth Age, Tirion-upon-Túna remains the center of Elvish government in Valinor, or at least the hotspot for (those who enjoy) political infighting, so Satarissë spends 60% of her time there - but the remaining 40% keeping up the family tradition of itinerant diplomacy. She is the only person who has ever successfully challenged Fingolfin for political rule of the Noldor. She is the only person who’s ever come close to winning the High Kingship from Arafinwë on grounds of genuine campaigning, rather than “this person invented an awesome thing; lets let them lead ceremonies for a century.” Arafinwë was briefly ecstatically hopeful, not to mention grandpaternally proud, until he beat her in a mild landslide the following election. (Quoth Lalwen: “Sorry, Ara, but Satyë wants it too much. No one sensible trusts her to manage if something went horrifically wrong.”)

One of Arafinwë’s significant contributions to ongoing peace in Tirion and all of Eldamar is that he periodically locks his brother and his granddaughter in a room together with a variety of competitive board games, card decks, and about a week’s worth of food and water. Starting a few centuries into the Fourth Age, he locks Maedhros in with them as well. This is exactly why people keep electing him High King, obviously.

6-7. Ambalaura (Q) / Amgloer (S) - golden heads

Thalanis (Q) / Thaleth (S) - dauntless, steadfast, heroic woman (for Húrin Thalion)

Thandanis (Q) / Thandeth (S) - shield woman (for Huor, no less steadfast, no less great in guarding that terrible retreat)

Elenwë returned from Mandos just after the Exile was lifted. She left her husband behind, and many friends, but many friends were waiting in the land of the living, and her daughter. She spent much of the next several millennia on Tol Eressëa with Idril (who happily handled much of the practical management, while Lalwen kept people from killing each other), and when she wasn’t there, she was often touring with Finrod and Amarië. They were only too happy to have her, being best friends of old, and always needing an extra pair of hands to manage the Golden Horde (of which Idril was 100% honorarily part). 

Eventually Turgon caught up with them, however, late in the Second Age...and with the dawn of the Third Age, the four of them finally got around to carrying out the plan they’d hatched back when they were all young together in the Light of Trees: friendship-inducing simultaneous pregnancies and births, just like Finrod and Turgon’s parents did! Twice the babies, twice the fun!

Now, the people of Valinor, very much including the Noldor, know a reprise when they’re watching one unfold, even if it’s an ironically happy one. (They’re much more used to echoed tragedy.) So multiple people warned Amarië, while she was pregnant with her sixth child, “You’d better not be having twins. I swear to Vana, you’d better not be having twins.”

“It’s very rude how everyone thinks I’d upstage you like that,” Amarië would complain later to Elenwë. “Anyway, we’re having twins jointly, aren’t we?”

They were. They really were. The Vanyar had a small population when they left Cuviënen and, while they grew, they never grew as much as the Noldor, Teleri, or anyone else; certainly when Amarië and Elenwë were born, everyone was still related to everyone else. Those two specifically are second cousins once removed - so the babies both came out with bright golden hair, blue-grey Finwëan eyes, the nose of Amarië’s great-grandmother who was Elenwë’s great-aunt...

Their births were staggered by a few weeks, just as Finrod & Turgon’s and later Galadriel & Aredhel’s had been, in case something went wrong and recovery time was needed. But from the first shared days of their shared lives, the Ambalaura were inseparable - each never happier than when the other was near; each rarely happy when the other was not. Per tradition firmly established, they were father-named after Turgon’s friends now lost to the Gift of Men, themselves brothers - and as soon as they had will and wit to be clever, both girls dedicated themselves, with great sense of mischief, to making sure nobody could remember who was which. Or at least, who came from which parents. They dressed alike. They spoke alike. They slept in each other’s beds, sometimes together, sometimes swapping houses.

They were joyful. They roamed the countryside freely and laughed even more freely - even though the countryside was a little more dangerous than it used to be, with the Changing of the World. So they took up spears at need, though only ever on the edges of the Hunt - they had little true wildness in their hearts, just a lack of fear so long as they fought back to back.

All their older sisters were long-since grown, most like aunts than sisters. Manatar had children of her own, also grown. Satarissë was getting locked in a room with Great-Uncle Fingolfin and a Monopoly board again (a game from lost Thargelion). In Valimar, Nolorë debated with friends over honey wine about the ethics of the Sinking of Númenor and what, if anything, ought be done about it.

But everyone still knew a reprise when they saw it. So they called the twins, daughters of both Finrod and Amarië and Turgon and Elenwë, Ambalaura; and Nerdanel added statues of them arm in arm to the royal garden (to which she added statues every time the House of Finwë got a new member). And there was peace, and great friends remembered with joy, in Valinor.

[snowflakeanimelover]

Light And Dark(FNAF Security Breach) Part 9

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12

Think you’re missing a part? Please look here.

Tag list is CLOSED.

Tag List: @lacunaanonymoused  @fatherfigurefreddy @teddydumpster @butterflykiisies @bloodsweatandcannibals @kebabra @jack-morrison @simpcity-com @thelovebuggs @kitty-page @transwolfie @liar-liar13 @zyphrr @probablygonnahurtsomebody @gipsyd @starlightdust-dreamergalaxy @black-veil-chemicalz @maryclanders @necromantiste @resortalia @yourpoin @plaguerat44 @sakura-chandaneko @callmegkiddo-original

Usernames that I am not able to tag(I Apologize for the inconvenience): @lilpaa, @hahaitiedyouup, @slowdancingwithseokjin, @blanktide, @snclom

If you have any questions about this story, please comment on this post here. I am working on a Q&A post.

———

It’s not very often to see Vanessa smile. If anything, she keeps a frown on her face almost all the time. Unless she eats a food she likes, or she puts on a fake smile for children. Other than that, you see her growling at people she hates the most when they pass by. I’m just glad she doesn’t growl at me. It might just be because I’m her new favorite Night Guard partner. But I’m sure as hell ain’t happy about it.

It’s midnight at the entrance of the Pizzaplex. Vanessa and I’s meeting spot, to be exact. Half of the time, my ears went deaf to her directions for the night as I stared at her smile with fear. It wasn’t a happy-that-you’re-my-new-partner smile. It felt more like a I-can’t-wait-to-see-what-you-go-through-tonight smile. Especially when she’s the only one who knows about the Moondrop incident.

Towards the end of her words, I managed to pitch my ears in to ignore that creepy smile. 

“And don’t go into the basement floors. Pass Parts and Services.” She says.

I cock my head with furrowed brows. “Parts and services? Where’s that?” I ask her. I remember seeing the Parts and Services bins laying around, but never had I actually been there. 

“You don’t know where that is?”

I shake my head. “I work at Daycare, Vanessa. “I let out a halfheartedly laugh.

“Well, it’s just under the stage. Use your map if you have to.” She points at the Fazwatch she gave me during her speech. It wraps tightly around my wrist. I glance down at it with a frown. Bless her heart for making sure I didn’t get lost, but also curse her heart for making me feel like a child. She then walks off and leaves me alone in the lobby.

— — —

An hour of walking around has passed. There wasn’t anything too alarming so far. And by too alarming, I mean almost getting heart attacks by accidentally running into security bots and making them set off an alarm. 

But what really caught my eyes were the security bots roaming around. There was way more than we usually have at night. I was curious about the crazy amount. A security bot at almost every corner and space of this giant building.

I put myself against a wall as a security bot runs by with a flashlight. I grab my walkie talkie and press the button that calls Vanessa. A noise to grab her attention. But a few minutes of me continuously pressing the button, I never received an answer. Only buzzing interference came through. 

“Weird…” I say aloud, putting the walkie talkie away. Maybe we were too far apart.

“Gregory…” A robotic voice stops me from moving away from the wall. It sounded way too familiar, so I turned the corner to see if I was right.

And I was. Glamrock Chica was slumped, walking around the building as she called out for this…Gregory. Who is Gregory? And why are the animatronics roaming around? Did Scott program them to walk around and didn’t tell me or Vanessa?

I decided it was best to ask Glamrock Chica for the answers. 

But something bumping into me makes me yelp in shock, frozen on the spot. I turn quickly, finding a boy with tanned skin looking up at me. 

A boy ran into me. A child is in the building at closing time and ran into me. Ran into me. And I am a Night Guard. 

“Oh my god!” I blurt out, making the child flinch. “What…what are you doing here?! Are you lost?” I try to ask the child. I probably wasn’t helping him stay calm from my yelling. 

The boy didn’t say anything, slowly backing away from me. Before I could stop him, the boy turns and runs off. “Wait!” I call for the child, running after him. I couldn’t run very fast with my pencil skirt. Vanessa has mentioned something to me on the first night with her for me to wear pants next time. I must’ve forgotten about that, since I wore a skirt again. I am so used to wearing a nice office looking outfit for my job, that I didn’t think about wearing pants for this Night Guard job.

I follow the boy throughout the building, calling out to him over and over. As I went through a door the child went through, it turned out to be a closet. He ran into a dead end.

The door shuts behind me as I block it from him. “Would you calm down, please?” I gasp out from all of the running. 

“F-Freddy, please help! I’m stuck!” The boy calls out. He had his wrist up close to his mouth to speak to it. I was about to question why he called out Freddy when the Fazwatch the boy is wearing makes a buzzing sound. 

“Gregory? Are you alright?” Freddy’s voice comes through the watch.

“Freddy?” I ask aloud, surprised to hear him through the watch. His voice is programmed into the Fazwatch’s, but those weren’t the words he’s supposed to say in the watch. The boy’s terrified eyes glance up at me. 

“(Y/N)?” Freddy says after a beat of silence.

“Yes! Freddy, what is going on? Who is this boy?” 

“Oh. This is Gregory! I’ve been helping him through the night.” He says almost excitedly. “Gregory, this is (Y/N). You can trust her.”

The boy, Gregory, looks up at me one more time. Within seconds, he had his hands clutching onto my button-down shirt with glossy eyes. “Please! You have to help Freddy!”

[snimeat]

Wait. Sorry, but I read your tags and you have dyscalculia? I didn't even think it has a name, I thought it was part of the dyslexia chain of disorders... Which it is! But I didn't know it had a name! I can't believe someone has the same type of inconvenient bullshit as me! Tho, I'm guessing mine is much lighter, since I'm actually pretty good at math. With a lot of checking and people triple checking for me, and struggling with a line of an equation for like an hour before I can comprehend how simple it is in reality. Same with letters tho. The brain sometimes not comprehending what is visually presented and convincing itself it is wrong, when in fact it isn't. Words appearing out of nowhere in the middle of sentences when writing. Or words changing shapes and meanings as you read them, so you have to re-read a few times until your brain understands it. Fun times, sorry, I got into it.

I can't differentiate between 7 and 9 what's the quirk you got from it? XD I know it ain't funny, but I got excited! I mean, if this makes you uncomfortable to talk about, absolutely ignore this please ☀️

oh don’t worry, it’s part of the tumblrcore experience to read tags lmao.

but i do actually, i was also diagnosed quite late i was fourteen at the time. and boy, the struggles i had with it was huge and still is. i didn’t know it was in the same chain as dyslexia but thinking of it now, makes a lot of sense. nice to know a fellow dyscalculic too, i’ve never met anyone either. i don’t think i can define mine as lighter since it was one of the main source of anxiety for me growing up lmao. i just god, i suffered with the bare minimum when it comes to math. even the simplest of problems is difficult for me. i have trouble helping my almost 10 year old sister with her math stuff, to give you an example. i just run from it in any given circumstance. i think i do also double, triple check any calculations i do. i even take a step further and do it at least five times to make sure and my mind sometimes still goes “are you actually sure it’s correct?” and proceeds to count at least two or three more times to be sure, even when i have a calculator with me. my main struggle is forgetting the numbers i’m seeing, exchanging them, i have trouble telling the difference between thousands and millions and whatever else gets too may zeros or too many numbers, basically anything after 900 gets hard for me. it also affects my left and right, cannot get it right for the life of me. reading old clocks takes a few minutes lmao. but truly exchanging things was one of the main issues for me, and i wouldn’t even realise it. it was like my brain couldn’t see the mistake unless someone helped me get there. hm, what else?

< > these two symbols? trust me, i still don’t remember them to this day, i would have to use a visual written explanation to remember which one was which and i still would take a bit of time to get there because it’s just confusing to me. i never had trouble with letters necessarily, i don’t remember rn anyway. those math problems that required you to get an answer after seeing something like “matt has two apples and karen has whatever blah blah blah” i just couldn’t do it. geometric math was my deathbed. pythagora’s theorems HOLY FUCKING HELL my most hated back then. my brain would shut down and not work at all. the multiplication table thing? i swear to god unless it’s two or five (counting on my fingers btw) i can’t do it. it’s like i see math and i think i get it but i don’t, not really. it makes no sense in my brain, i can’t seem to grasp it fully. and it’s so frustrating. i could complain about my brain’s lack of understanding for a lifetime, okay?! 🤣

[taytrashmouth]

Make out to breakup

Steve Harrington x female Hopper-reader

Season 3 breakup

As amazing as your relationship with Steve was, it was sort of an unspoken thing that you had to breakup. You were both distant and working long hours, with Steve at scoops in the daytime and you working as the host at the hideout at nighttime you barely saw each other.

You loved Steve with everything you had but a part of you couldn’t help but feel you had more fun as friends.

You had known Steve from age 3 till 7 in preschool, then your dad, the chief of police (Jim Hopper) and your mom moved away to start a new life, a three years later your parents had a new baby (Sarah) , your little sister. Who was your favorite person in the whole world….when she was six she got cancer and by age seven she had passed.

Your mom moved out, leaving you with hop. She said she couldn’t even look at you anymore after Sarah because you brought back all the memories.

You had cried and screamed you were both sad and angry and your dad started drinking, at 17 you and your dad moved back to Hawkins for your last two years of school and to get away from that house, that empty home, a shell of what was.

You had reunited with Steve after a decade of being gone, and you liked him, but he was dating Nancy Wheeler. You kept to yourself mostly, books, sketches and phone calls with Steve were what kept you busy.

That was until you had gone looking for Dustin Henderson (the young boy you were babysitting) as he had disappeared. You had been all over town and the last stop was the Byers residence, a very beat up Steve had arrived at the same time looking to apologize to Jonathan.

You both got roped into fighting inter dimensional beings, steve had saved you from a demogorgon that night.

You were best friends for a long time until 1984 when Nancy broke Steve’s heart at Tina’s Halloween party, he had driven you home both of you slightly tipsy.

He had teared up as he pulled into his driveway.

“Steve?” You had called in a soft, caring tone.

He turned to you.

You just looked him dead in the eye before your eyes found their way to glancing at his soft lips.

He had moved forward before turning away.

“God we can’t do this!” He sighed.

You frowned

“Steve I like you.” You let out just loud enough so he could hear. “I always have I just- you were with Nance so-“ you rambled a little.

“Am, present tense, I am with nance.” He corrected.

“Steve…I don’t think you are.” You sighed, remembering what he had told you she said. Bullshit bullshit bullshit

“I am! And you can’t like me! I-I have a girlfriend and-“ he yelled and stumbled over his words which made you flinch. “God I mean- I-I like you too, there I said it! And I was doing just fine before you came back to Hawkins! Just fine with Nancy wheeler!” He yelled.

“God I’m so sorry for the inconvenience! Do you think it’s easy for me!? To see you with her?! I mean when I left I asked you to call me…I gave you the number-I-you never called steve.” The yelling had turned to crying and you felt so vulnerable and stupid.

“I didn’t call because I didn’t think you needed me.” He mumbled.

“I was away for ten years….and I didn’t have a single friend, and for ten years I waited for that phone call.” You cried staring at steve while he looked at his knees.

You shook your head with a sigh and got out of the car, you walked home that night and cried for a long while before falling asleep. Steve had cursed himself and replayed your words in his head over and over, he didn’t sleep.

The next few days consisted of being stuck with steve while helping Dustin, Lucas and max fight some demodogs, steve had saved you from one with his bat once again.

You tried to return the favor by saving Steve from billy Hargrove’s punches but you ended up getting knocked out yourself and having earned a black eye.

Once the evil had blown over you had helped El your new sister that you’d been hiding(who reminded you a lot of Sarah) get ready for the snowball, you let her wear the dress you never got to wear to your snowball because you had moved just before.

After being bored at the dance, supervising El with hopper you saw Steve drop off Dustin and he pulled up next to you and your dad asking if he could take you for a ride, awkwardly shaking hoppers hand. He reluctantly agreed.

The drive was silent for a long time.

“Question game?” Steve spoke up, it had been your thing when you were young asking questions to each other back and forth for hours.

You nodded.

“Who’s the biggest douchebag in the world?” Steve looked at you as he parked next to lovers lake.

“Oh easy, steve the hair Harrington.” You had answered flatly.

He sighed.

“I’m sorry.” He said, but you could tell he meant it, really really meant it, about the phone call that never came, about being an ass in general, his outburst, everything.

“I’m sorry too.” I half smiled.

It was quiet for a moment.

“The worst ice cream flavor?” You spoke up, steve smiled, he knew you had forgiven him.

“Mint.” He shrugged

“No way! I love mint it’s totally pistachio.” I laughed.

“I love pistachio!” He exclaimed, offended.

“Gross.” We both let out in unison and ended up laughing for longer than we should’ve but it was nice.

“Okay okay, weirdest place you’ve ever had sex?” Steve asked.

You looked down. “I don’t know…” you mumbled.

“Oh come on you’ve gotta have one like mine is with Rebecca Linn, she was crazy y/n! Insane! Not only was she extremely kinky but I mean we had sex in her neighbors empty swimming pool while they were home….and they caught us!” Steve exclaimed.

You laughed a little shocked.

“Shit.” You smiled.

“Shit.” He nodded.

“Ummm, worst social experience you’ve ever had?” You asked. 

“You didn’t answer mine.” Steve frowned.

You felt your face get hot and you became flustered looking at your lap.

“I’ve never had sex.” You said just above a whisper.

“Oh…okay umm….fine that’s okay, then weirdest place you’ve ever made out.” Steve answered, he didn’t seem that phased.

You could almost feel the pink that had spread onto your face, feeling embarrassed.

“I’ve never really kissed anyone either…” you stated.

“Not even a peck?”

You shook your head. “Nope I’m a virgin in all aspects.” You awkwardly laughed.

Steve had an unreadable expression on his face, he looked almost baffled, or like he was thinking about something important.

“Look I know it’s weird I ju-“ your rambling was interrupted when his lips met yours, soft but passionate.

He slowly pulled away. “Well that’s a start.” He whispered and he kissed you again, more passionate this time.

And after you had gotten separate jobs and Steve was struggling to find a university, and his dad was on his back, while you had your dad constantly complaining about Steve and Mike (els boyfriend) you began to drift apart.

And as much as you liked her and hated to admit it you were jealous of robin, just slightly. You saw how they laughed and got on with each other.

All this lead to now, you, Steve, robin, Dustin and Erica trapped in a Russian elevator, miles and miles underground.

You were lying staring at the hundreds of miles of empty space on top of the elevator as Steve climbed up the ladder.

“What are you doing up here?” Steve whispered.

“Hoping this thing doesn’t start moving or I’m screwed.” You joked, sitting up as he sat in front of you, knees touching.

“Are you okay?” He asks, keeping a hushed tone through the conversation, not wanting to wake the others.

“I guess so.” You shrugged.

After a long silence you spoke up.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“This isn’t working is it?” The words came out like vomit, bitter and feeling so real now that they were out floating in the air.

He thought for a moment. “I don’t think so.” He answered and you both sighed.

“I’m sorry.” You half-smiled, tearing up a little.

“Yeah me too.” He was the same, tears brewing in his eyes with his lips turned up in an almost sad way.

You had closed your eyes which caused a tear to fall.

“God you’re making me cry too.” He sniffed, and you both laughed through a few slow tears.

You helped him wipe his cheeks and stared at each other.

“I love you.” He almost sang with the soft smile you had fallen in love with in the first place.

“I love you too.” You mimicked with a sweet smile that made him feel on top of the world each time he saw it.

“One last kiss?” You asked.

“One last kiss.” He nodded.

He placed a warm hand on your cheek and pulled you in, kissing you softly and passionately just like your first kiss had been. Your hand was in his hair on on his cheek as you both pulled away. You rubbed his cheek with your thumb.

“Goodbye.” You had smiled weakly.

“Bye n/n.” He returned the expression.

He lay down and you put your head on his chest staying like this for one last night, holding each other, taking deep breaths.

You were both sad, sad at the loss, the memories that somehow seemed slightly less important all of a sudden. But happy that you could start fresh, find the right people.