#i got myself some hot chocolate so this should inspire me to write more <3 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kashimos-hajime · 4 years ago

Text

dear... whoever | b.b.

summary: a mandated series of long and short diary entries from the new head of R&D for Stark Industries.

WARNINGS: swearing, LOTS of fluff, mentions of drinking and sex and hospitals and guns, general fun and witty attitude, small angst, big jealousy, obviously au after civil war. everything after does not exist. pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader word count: 9.5k

a/n: written for @softbiker and 100% inspired by @sunmoonandbucky with the format. my prompt was let me love you by rita ora and i wrote it from the perspective the singer is singing it to rather than the actual singer. this was super fun to write. enjoy!

July 31/20

Dear…

Whoever is going to read this. So… me, in the future probably. So, it should be dear WHOMever, I think, but it sounds wrong.

Is it too cliché to say dear diary? I don’t know. After all, I don’t WANT to be writing this but unfortunately I am because it’s mandated. Apparently, the psychiatrist that works for Stark Industries thinks it’s necessary that I write down my feelings and show that I’ve adjusted to working part-time superhero, full-time head of Tony’s stupid R&D department.

Something about how that much stress can cause psychotic fractures in the worst case scenario.

Cute.

Anyway, I don’t know what to write. Currently, it’s 4:23AM. The only reason I’m awake is because I have trouble sleeping on the best night. I heard Barnes messing about and because I am the Hermit of the Rec Room Couch (catchy, I know), I can hear him just walking about.

What the hell is he even doing?

To be honest, I’ve never talked to Barnes besides the occasional greetings because he’s the sort to keep to himself, I guess, and, valid. I’m not saying it’s not, considering his history, but you know.

I think I’m a friendly person, and I’m bored. He’s eventually going to hear me writing noisily because of super-soldier hearing or whatever, so I might just get up and introduce myself.

Not that I’ve been working here for years, but whatever.

I’m really bored and hungry, honestly, so a trip to the kitchen would be considered normal (and warranted) in such circumstances.

Fuck it.

Time to make a new friend or die trying. If you never hear from me again, you’ll know why.

Aug. 1/20

Dear Jane,

I finally got the time to write in here and you may be wondering why I have named you. Well, after the conversation at roughly 4:30 AM, here are things that’ve changed in a disorganized list. None is more important than the other. I'm just writing what comes to my head.

One: Barnes said he doesn’t really let anyone call him James. I called him James once because I forgot. Profuse apologies followed. He said it was okay and didn’t mind me calling him that. Now, in my mind, I think he’s just saying this to be polite and really just wants me to call him Bucky but he seemed sincere. We’ll see how it goes.

Two: Barnes was awake because his cat woke him up. I didn’t even know he had a cat but it’s a gorgeous white cat named Alpine that Barnes carries around in his half-zipped up hoodies sometimes. It’s adorable. He’s super soft and friendly and I love him already. He showed me all the tricks Alpine could do. Amazing.

Three: Barnes’ favourite movie is the Godfather. Totally surprising there. Please tell me you understand sarcasm.

Four: He said he liked the name Jane when I told him what I was doing up and also in the rec room (couldn’t sleep, writing in my diary) and that I didn’t want to say “Dear diary”

“Why don’t you just give it a name?” he eloquently suggested and Jane was his answer to my question of “Which name?”

Five: Barnes, or James, I guess he is now, is my friend.

Six: We said we’d meet up at 4:30AM or earlier again because I told him I wanted to show him my s’mores dip recipe.

Seven: Wish me luck. Hope I don’t get murdered.

Eight: I think I might be in love with him.

Bye.

Aug. 5/20

Dear Jane,

In an effort to summarize what has happened in the past four days, I will open with the fact that James Buchana Barnes is the cutest motherfucker on the planet. He’s super old fashioned, but that’s a given. He opens the doors for me, offers to take my bags up, and in the past four days, we’ve met up at around midnight to just eat and chat. Then he walks me back to my room with a glass of water and I’m left fanning myself because it’s so sweet and he’s so sweet and OH, MY GOD, I am a child.

This feels like a crush. Like, butterflies in my stomach, self-conscious every time he looks at me, can’t stop staring, and wanting to impress him at every turn sort of crush.

AKA, a middle-school crush and I feel completely ridiculous but that is besides the point because he’s just the loveliest person.

Someone should tell him chivalry is dead. Steve thinks he’s just being sweet on me, and Sam says I should flash some ass just to get a rise out of him which would be funny. He’d look absolutely adorable blushing his head off.

We’ll see. I am considering it.

What else happened? I’m drawing a huge blank.

As explained in a previous entry, I was to show Barnes my s’mores dip recipe. Huge success. Crowd loved it. That’s how I learned he has a huge sweet tooth like me. Got an email from Pep about a board meeting which I ignored. If it’s really important, she’ll see me in person. Went swimming with Sam. We started planning Tony’s big Christmas party even though that’s MONTHS away.

But, you know. We’re so busy all the time, it might be worth it planning ahead.

As head of R&D, it’s vital to me that this goes well because they’re fun when they do go well, and a chaotic disaster when they don’t. Also, I have to find a date but details will follow.

I think that’s it.

If there’s more to follow, then I’ll just come back but there really isn’t.

Oh, Alpine found my room. He’s in here right now and he snores. It’s cute, just like his owner.

Okay, goodnight.

Aug. 7/20

Dear Jane,

Sam, James, and I went swimming.

Pro of the day: James is ripped and that man was GLISTENING.

Con of the day: I AM STUPID in front of hot ripped men.

Pro of the day: We got ice cream together. Strawberry for me, mango for James because he wants to try new flavours, and Sam ordered some monstrosity with vanilla ice cream, chocolate and raspberry syrups, and a bunch of banana slices. A swirl of whipped cream to finish it off. It looked like diabetes in a cup and that’s coming from me.

Con of the day: James used his thumb to wipe the ice cream off my lip and my brain short-circuited. Sam teased us about it, but James very stubbornly and convincingly said we’re just friends.

Con of the day x2: We are just friends and that is NOT going to change. I cannot explain how much my heart literally fell out of my body in disappointment.

God, and James and I are meeting up at 2AM tonight so he can show me this new stupid stuffed celerey recipe he learned.

It’s not stupid.

It’s really, REALLY cute he researched it.

This sucks.

Aug. 11/20

The worst day ever. I don’t want to talk about it but might as well make a note on it. More on it later, I guess.

Aug. 15/20

Dear Jane,

Sorry, I’m dramatic. Must get it from working with Tony for so many years.

Let’s just review what occurred on August 11, 2020, at approximately 3:23 in the afternoon.

I learned that James went out on a date. A DATE. From SAM. When James had ample opportunity to tell me at our regular meeting at witching hour over celery sticks.

EXCUSE ME? WHO IS THIS WOMAN?

I’m not even mad. I’m just angry that the man I became friends with only 2 weeks ago and caught feelings immediately for is seeing other people.

I sound like a raging bitch. I promise you, Jane, that I am not. I’m just the insanely jealous type.

No, I’m not.

God, what is happening to me and why does it have to be James.

I never get crushes and the instant I do, it’s for the most emotionally and physically unavailable person ON EARTH.

Also, work was work. I was distracted, drank soup from the canteen, and generally accomplished nothing. Alpine came for some snuggles while James was out. That’s the only good thing.

Thanks, universe.

Aug. 16/20

Dear Jane,

So, I brought up this mystery lady over homemade sundaes.

James seems pretty serious about her because he a) apologized for not telling because he wanted to keep it private and asked me not to tell anyone and b) has a second date with her later today.

Oh, GOD. There is no point to this.

Aug. 19/20

Dear Jane,

What’s the point of asking someone intimate, personal questions if not because you guys are best friends?

James called me his best friend today. He says he knows me, but if he did, he’d know I feel like throwing up whenever he’s around and that his stare burns through every layer of clothing until I feel like he just knows my secret.

I told him we’ve known each other less than a month, but he said something stupidly charming about “intuition” and feeling and that this feels right and how he knows he can tell me anything and that I was an easy person to talk to.

I should’ve been a shrink.

At least, my trip to Wakanda is going to give me distance. A solid two months of no one else but me, tech, and new faces. Going there to collaborate with Shuri is definitely exciting and taking up more space in my brain than James these days.

Maybe I’ll fall in love with some soldier over there because apparently, I’m catching feelings willy-nilly these days.

See you on the plane, Jane.

Aug. 23/20

Dear Jane,

On the quinjet, it’s fairly quiet. It’s one of the things I love about it. The silent yet soft engines that can lull me to sleep. We should be arriving in a few hours so I thought I’d write. I’m getting the hang of this, I think.

There's a press conference later, too, in the trip with the UN and it’s not that I can’t handle it, but that I could’ve done this in my sleep and wished Tony sent someone else. I hate the press, not gonna lie.

Anyway, this gives me time to be introspective.

Is it just me or James always Okay, is it just my imagination that whenever I try to get close to James, he just kinda pulls away? Not in a romantic way. I’m not stealing anyone’s man because girl code, but he won’t even let me just stand near him anymore. It’s like I have an infectious disease only transmitted through physical contact and it’s just weird.

I don’t know.

Before I left, he said he’d miss me and that we should keep in touch through calls (Obviously, I would) and that he hopes I won’t forget him.

So, you say those things but you won’t even let me even hug you?

You’re a manipulative asshole, Barnes.

Oct. 20/20

Dear Jane,

I am so sorry that it has taken so long for us to reunite.

In hindsight, I’m a fucking idiot.

I left you on the quinjet which went back to New York and a different quinjet came to pick me up. I came back like two days ago so these past few days have been spent searching for you.

James offered to help, and he seems normal again.

Weird. Guess he was just in a mood with the new girlfriend and adjusting to having me as a friend, too. Guys go through that, I guess.

In Wakanda, I did not, in fact, fall in love with a soldier or anything. I curse every day that I didn’t, trust me. I’m just as disappointed as you are because I just want to get over this stupid crush. For the two months I was gone, it was like I didn’t like James at all like that. Even during calls, I could pretend we were just two teammates keeping each other in the loop. He talked about his girlfriend, I listened, I explained science because he’s a nerd, and he asked questions like he was interested.

It was FINE.

Then, he was waiting for me when I came back to NYC and it slammed into me like Bruce in Hulk-mode.

James asked if I wanted to meet his girlfriend because she’d be coming around for the Halloween party anyway, and he thinks we’ll get along swimmingly.

He really said swimmingly. He is stuck in the wrong era, but we all knew that.

I said yes, to be polite.

Here’s to hoping she’s a vindictive bitch and I am justified in hating her entire being.

Oct. 22/20

Dear Jane,

I met her. She’s small and pretty and mature and normal.

If I wasn’t stupidly in my feelings about James, I’d love her, too.

She’d treat him right, give him a good home to come back to.

Best not to notice the people fighting beside you in that way, I guess.

Oct. 25/20

Dear Jane,

God is dead and NO ONE has eyes on the road.

Jesus isn’t even taking the wheel on this one.

It’s a fucking disaster.

I do not want to describe in every little detail the intricacies of dreaming about James Buchanan Barnes fucking my brains out, so I won’t, but this is for the record that it happened and how the fuck am I supposed to come back and see him in his probably gorgeous attempt at his recreation of Brendan Fraser from the Mummy AKA my favourite movie (which HE KNOWS THAT IT IS?? GOD, the audacity.)

Girlfriend (his girlfriend. “Girlfriend” is the name which she shall be henceforth known as in these entries because petty wins are all I have right now) is dressing as Rachel Weisz. Because “couples goals” or whatever.

I wouldn’t know. Sam and I are dressed up as sexy salt and pepper shakers (his idea, not mine) and he made me take the salt stick because I think he knows. Steve’s not dressing up because he’s more focused on handing out candy as Captain America.

Tony is… Tony. Iron Man and all that.

Anyway, I’m out of town in DC for a meeting with the Secretary of State for a few days, but I’ll be back in New York on the 30th so I’ll have a few hours to adjust to being around James again before he dons on that outfit that I know will be totally hot.

He called me his best friend again in his latest email.

Made me smile like an idiot, but I digress.

Nov. 1/20

Dear Jane,

Halloween was killer. Sam and I won best duo for costumes because we’re that good. Ate a lot of candy and it seems to be looking up.

I dunno. I didn’t mind James and Girlfriend on the couch that much in the after-party. Mostly stuck by Nat and Sharon and Tony. An ood trio, but a fun one nonetheless.

It was fun, but I still have to go to work no matter how many jello shots and vodka gummy bears consumed.

Wish me luck, not that I need it.

Why do you think Tony hired me?

Nov. 4/20

Dear Jane.

Natasha said I smile at James in a way that utterly betrays every emotion I want to hide in my chest.

Note to self: Don’t smile at James, or at his jokes, or at anything he ever does again. Avoid him. Put a stopper on this friendship.

Note to note to self: I can’t. He just makes me smile whenever he’s around and he’s always around. There’s no simpler way to put it.

I’m gonna try this hiatus thing, though. Distance myself a bit. We’ll see how it goes.

Nov. 13/20

Dear Jane,

Day nine of this hiatus business and it sucks. I miss my best friend.

We’re scheduled for a mission together, and we’re leaving tomorrow so I was going to have to talk to him during the briefing and the op either way.

Well, glad to know this didn’t work.

Nov. 15/20

Dear Jane,

Guess who just got fucking shot!

ME!

Guess even scumbags can’t take a holiday because some stupid arms dealer got a cheap shot on me while I was downloading their whole computer system and other tech mumbo-jumbo I am too high to write about.

James left a few hours ago with the rest of the team, but not before he got me a bunch of ice chips and said he was worried and that he hopes I get better soon. He even promised to get me some flowers to spruce up the room and to say my HEART went CRAZY is an understatement.

He came to my rescue, essentially, as soon as he heard I got pinned. He carried me to the quinjet the instant he cleared the area and stayed by my side the whole time even though the bleeding stopped and I was in good hands. He was just so protective, barking at doctors and nurses. It was embarrassing but also really, really sweet.

Is it weird of me to say that I want him to stay by my side forever?

I’ve never fallen in love before.

Is it always this fast and this hard? I feel like I’m crashing instead of gently and wonderfully falling. Everything is dumb and awful.

Is this what love is like? Because it hurts worse than getting shot because I think I’m going to vomit flowers or butterflies or something.

God, he’d never love me. We’re just friends and even though we have a lot in common, he’d never. It’s just too much of the past in the present or whatever.

Also, he has a girlfriend but it seems very surface-level. God, that makes me sound like a “one of the boys” type of girl who’s a bitch to one of the boy’s new girlfriends, but I don’t know. James told me they don’t really talk about the deep stuff like we do. But she makes him happy, I think.

In hindsight, one may ask what the deep stuff is.

More on that later. I’m tired.

God, why him?

I HATE THIS.

goodnight.

Nov. 16/20

Dear Jane,

James visited again today. He sat beside me and we talked until the nurses had to kick him out. He also brought the flowers.

I asked about Girlfriend casually. I said I liked her.

He said he did, too.

I don’t know why I think he’s lying. No, I do.

It’s because jealousy is the green-eyed bitch from highschool who still shows up in my life because she thinks she’s relevant to society.

That was mean. Unrequited love makes you mean. Side effect noted.

P.S. The deep stuff includes his past, his arm, his memory, his favourite colour. I dunno why that matters. It just does.

Nov. 17/20

Dear Jane,

Got out of the hospital today because of advanced technology and all that. Nothing’s left but a scar and residual soreness. James helped me to my room and said to call him if I had a problem.

I joked that he has a girlfriend and for some reason, he got really weird about it. It’s hard to describe. I dunno. Nat dropped by for popcorn and movies.

It’s 2:32AM. I’m wondering if he’s in the kitchen but I’m confined to bed rest so I don’t know. Also, Nat is asleep beside me and I don’t want to bother her.

Hopefully I can get up and move in a few days. Life is boring.

Nov. 24/20

Dear Jane,

Sorry we haven’t caught up in a moment. Work’s been hectic and I’ve been working overtime trying to make ends meet. Most days I’m in the office or lab, just trying to get enough things done so I can take time off come Christmas.

James stopped by tonight with Chinese takeout and some sweet buns.

He broke up with his girlfriend, too.

Guess that’s why he was being weird about it.

I tried being as casual as I could asking why, but he didn’t want to talk about it, so I asked why he came by. Couldn’t be for the company because when I’m in work mode, I just don’t talk and he knows that.

He said something about his arm feeling funny so I gave it a quick diagnostics check.

I think both of us knew his arm was feeling fine.

Everything is stupid, life is meaningless, and James’ lips are the prettiest shade of pink in the ugly lights of the lab.

I would very much like to have kissed him, but I didn’t.

Girl code.

It’ll probably be a while before I get another chance to actually have time and energy to write another diary entry. Christmas season’s coming close and Pepper is gonna need help with the party.

Yay, me.

Dec. 4/20

Dear Jane,

Morgan asked me in less eloquent words if I had a boyfriend (it was more like “You boyfriend?” But whatever. Who even taught her that word?) and I swear to GOD Nat could not make it anymore obvious looking at James.

Remind me to absolutely throttle her. I don’t care if she’s the infamous Black Widow. She has clearly never seen me hopped up on nothing but a negative amount of sleep and rage/embarrassment/spite/all of the above.

On another note, Pep asked if I was bringing a plus one for the party. I said I’d think about it. Normally I’d just take Sam but he has his eyes on someone at the VA and I like my friends getting laid so no go there.

Might just go alone. I don’t know.

Pep said I should take James, but I don’t really think she knows the truth about that situation. Luckily, Tony instantly rejected the idea and said he’d find me a date if I couldn’t.

Thank the universe for at least placing me in the close circle of the most well-known and richest man in the world because he also gave me his card and said go wild.

He knows me so well. I’m thinking about Christmas shopping when I have another free day, and I’ll pay for that with my own money, of course, but clothes shopping is a free market.

I cannot wait.

Dec. 12/20

Dear Jane,

I wish I could show you my haul, but I got so much stuff Happy had to drive to help me. Besides obvious gifts, I also managed to snag a gorgeous dress for the party.

Thoughts on black and gold?

I think it’s beautiful. Hopefully Nat and Sharon think so. We’re having a girls night tonight and showing off outfits, so that’s exciting.

James asked if we could meet up tonight.

I told him I had plans and he looked so downcast.

I dunno. Everything feels weird between us. Like we’re fine, we’re best friends still, but something’s changed when no one was looking. He’s single now. I guess that energy is different because I had gotten used to his energy with ex-Girlfriend.

I don’t exactly mind but it’s not ideal either. I miss summer. It’s much less complicated than winter. Winter, one has to worry about wind and chills and snows blocking roads, black ice, dry skin, freezing fingers.

Summer: there’s just a lot of sun, wind, bugs, and the vaguest notion of being bored.

Look, I love winter. It’s my favourite season. It’s quiet and gorgeous and dreamy, even though it gets dreary in New York. The snow falls slowly sometimes, Christmas is gorgeous here, and I’d rather be cold than sweating buckets, and there are no bugs to bother me. Also, it gives me a good reason to stay in the labs or in my room where it’s warm and toasty.

I just miss the relative simplicity when James and I were just strangers on the edge of being friends, which is, in retrospect, a selfish reason to like one season and hate another.

Well, some philosopher somewhere probably said something about humanity being selfish.

Dec. 16/20

Dear Jane,

T-minus nine days until the party.

No date in sight.

Maybe I’ll ask Anderson from HR. We had coffee together a few times and he’s nice. Good catch: smart, not too bad looking, and really nice. I’ll head down tomorrow and ask.

Alpine had purred when I told him my plan and headbutted my hand, so I guess I got the Alpine-Seal-of-Approval.

Dec. 17/20

Dear Jane,

Operation: Ask Anderson from HR to Tony’s Christmas Party failed. Granted, it could’ve been because that was a god awful title and that that name, in itself, prophesied catastrophic failure, but also because I was accosted by my best friend.

I wish I meant Sam.

Nope. James caught me in the elevator and we made small talk. Sounds fine, right? Then we turned the topic to the party. Talked about clothes and prospective celebrity appearances and drinks and food. Just about everything, so might as well turn to talks about dates, which meant I had to explain why I was in the elevator in the first place.

Going down to ask Anderson ended in James revealing that he didn’t have a date either.

He doesn’t know who Anderson is, which I thought would be the case, and he popped the question before the doors opened.

Notice how I said “didn't” have a date.

Guess who’s going to the party with James, clearly stated as friends, platonic soulmates, etc.?

Me.

Yippee.

Dec. 18/20

Dear Jane,

It’s 3:42AM and I’m in the rec room as usual. I was gonna not write here today but it normally helps me sleep to just write a bit, get what little thoughts are in my head out. Yeah.

I hear James in the kitchen talking to Alpine and it’s making me smile like an idiot.

Oh, shit, he knows I’m in here. He’s making milkshakes.

I am morally obligated by best friend duties to join him.

Goodnight, Jane.

Dec. 24/20

Dear Jane,

I’m not sleeping with James Buchanan Barnes tomorrow night.

This is a resolute promise. An early New Year’s resolution.

Dec. 25/20

Dear Jane,

Merry Christmas!

In between jovial festivities, I’ve finally found a little nook that’s quiet enough to write in. We opened presents, had a big family breakfast, went skating and just lounged around, and frankly, I’m exhausted. Need to recharge the old social battery.

Among the assortment of gifts is one that stands out to me. James got me a gift that said “Open When Alone” and I did before I started this entry and it was a fucking necklace. Like, a gorgeous one. It’s gold and thin and it feels wonderful. There’s a little cat paw charm on it and it’s so pretty because he has a matching bracelet for himself and I have still not yet recovered.

It’s just so sweet and it reminds me why I love him.

Yes, love has made me unbelievably sappy. I just heaved the biggest sigh in history.

Unfortunately, I have to go earlier tonight. To the party, as written in previous entries. I remember my oath of one-night celibacy and I intend on keeping it, despite how fucking endearing this gift was, because he said it best: we’re just friends. I’m not about to coerce my best friend into sleeping with me out of a piteous, unrequited love. That’s just gross.

You will either see me hungover tomorrow, or very drunk later tonight. It’s all very depending on how this night turns out.

Dec. 26/20

Dear Jane,

Fuck.

P.S. He REALLY does not mind me calling him James. Take that as dirtily or as clandestinely as you wish.

Dec. 27/20

Dear Jane,

I spent the entire day in bed with very pleasurable company.

I am SO GLAD we haven’t gotten called in because James doesn’t leave unless to go to sleep in his own bed or to eat, and I do NOT want to explain to the team that James fucked my brains out for two days straight because my heart is bursting.

He’s a good kisser. His lips are soft.

Intimate knowledge of that is now burned into my memory for future reference.

God, this is a dream come true. He doesn’t even question it, he just

It’s like I’m a goddess to him. He treats me like one, at least, and it’s like he’ll do anything I ask. And we act like it’s normal, too. Midnight trips to the kitchen included.

Best Christmas ever.

Dec. 28/20

Dear Jane,

I feel like I’m ignoring you but I’m also having the best sex of my life. He’s just… so fucking good and it’s a holiday and holy shit my mind is blown.

Love at first meeting isn’t real.

Well, maybe this one time, it was destiny.

Dec. 29/20

Dear Jane,

It isn’t just the sex, you know? It’s the pillowtalk, too. He just makes me laugh so much and everything is so easy between us and it feels real. Popcorn and chips in bed, some mojitos, just each other’s presence. It’s enough like that, you know?

Some quote about how the one you love should be both your lover and your best friend is in my head but I’m too lazy to look it up. James’ head is in my lap and he’s just reading while I’m writing and everything seems perfect.

He doesn’t ask what I’m writing because he knows it’s private and I trust him.

This is perfect.

I think I really am IN love with him.

Jan. 1/21

You know that cliché/tradition of New Year’s kisses?

WELL THEN.

Best (and worst) New Year’s ever. I’ll explain more later. I’m too tired and too angry and also sore and bruised.

See you when I’m not hungover.

Jan. 5/21

Dear Jane,

I’m finally stable enough to write.

In a crazy turn of events, Barnes and I got into a fight because of what happened after New Year’s Day’s events: I caught him leaving before I woke up and at first, curious questions ensued, and it wasn’t a fight but then it became one and I don’t even know how it happened. I wasn’t even mad. He just started being weird and I got annoyed and we tried and failed to keep our voices down. Luckily, my room is pretty soundproof.

Things just got out of hand and I feel like tearing my hair out. I wanna storm up to him and just yell some more.

Tony came into my room and didn’t say shit about my hickies and the fact that James is avoiding me like the plague. He gave me a really good hug, though and then gave me a few weeks off extra. I don’t know how he knows, but then again, it’s Tony.

He just said love’s tough sometimes.

Yeah, tell me about it.

I’m thinking about just taking a long vacation and disappearing. It seems like a good route to take at this point.

Jan. 6/21

Dear Jane,

James is looking at me right now as I write this. I wonder if I should look back or if he’s going to come up to me. We’ll see.

I’m only writing this so it seems like I’m busy. I’m running out of things to say, honestly. Can he just go? What’s the point in staring like that? What’s the point?

I could ask myself the same question. What’s the point in loving someone who’ll never love you? Yeah, he’s sleeping with me but he pulls away every time I try to do something more. Outside the bubble of my room and the small time frame of post-11PM to around 4:45AM, he acts like he’s allergic to intimacy.

It was never like that with ex-Girlfriend.

Maybe it’s something to do with me.

I don’t know, but he keeps looking and I want to get up and leave, but I won’t. I’m not gonna let him win.

Jan. 6/21

He didn’t. He just went out. Sam and Steve asked if I was okay because as soon as he left, I got up for the bathroom and screamed into a towel.

I don’t think either of them knows what’s going on, but they have a notion.

Jan. 9/21

Dear Jane,

He apologized. Still no explanation as to why, but it feels weird.

I told him I’m going on a vacation to Switzerland. Go skiing or something and asked if he wanted to come.

It was stupid to ask, but he said yes.

Shit.

Jan. 14/21

Dear Jane,

Switzerland is lovely.

No work is relaxing. Awkwardness between me and the other traveller on this vacation. Weather’s supposed to be nice when we get there. Sunny snow days, pretty mountains, other Swiss things.

No other comment.

Jan. 21/21

Dear Jane,

I lasted all of a week.

Yep, I slept with him again, and yes, he was back in his hotel bed come sunrise.

I dunno. I’m over it. We don’t apologize and hope everything gets back to normal because neither of us want to say anything to ruin it any further and we both have a major fear of the complicated. To be fair, he said he didn’t want to sleep with me if I was completely against it.

Also, I tried calling him Bucky at dinner like ex-Girlfriend (and everyone else) does and he made the most disgusted face.

He said, and I quote, “Bucky? When did I stop being James?”

I told him I was trying something out and he said it failed. Snarky bastard.

I guess if he’s still James, that must mean I’m still special.

That’s the Tony-inherited ego talking.

But it does make me exceptionally happy to play with the idea that I’m special to him. Best friend with convoluted benefits. Sounds like the title of a very long-winded self-help book that doesn’t really help much but that does sound like the story of my life so I can’t complain too much.

We’re going home in a few days.

I’ll probably sleep with him again. Bet Steve’s shield that I do.

Jan. 24/21

Dear Jane,

I get three Steve’s shields because I was right every single fucking day.

He’s like a habit I can’t quite kick and don’t really want to.

We snuggled afterwards last night. His arm was around my shoulders, we were naked, I was resting my head on his chest. For a moment, it felt like something couples do and then I fell asleep and woke up alone.

Quantum physics is easier to understand than this but I think we’re being mutually exclusive right now, so it’s almost dating.

I dunno. I don’t mind it anymore. It’s better than nothing.

Feb. 2/21

Dear Jane,

I’m absolutely miserable.

I’m still getting laid, but that’s not related. Correlation and causation or something.

Why is New York so dreary and when can everything just stop?

I don’t know. Winter is ending and now it’s in that awful transition phase between seasons and it’s mucky and rainy and disgusting. Tony got these limited edition ice cream flavours though so I’m gonna ask James if we can make milkshakes out of them or something.

He doesn’t like the muck either. That’s not really relevant, I guess.

Feb. 14/21

Dear Jane,

I got flowers and chocolate from the department because I think they can sense I’ve been in a bad mood since forever. Then, there was an anonymous delivery and inside was this gorgeous chain bracelet that matches the necklace sort of. I lied and told the department it was from Pepper.

What a wretched holiday.

Yours truly.

Feb. 18/21

Dear Jane,

Normally, when boys get their haircut, they look ugly for a day or two after.

Not James.

He got his hair cut shorter and he looks really good. Like unbelievably good. Short hair fits him just as much as long hair does.

No other observations.

Feb. 25/21

Dear Jane,

It was Morgan’s birthday party today. James came in one of those brown jackets with the sheepskin wool inside and he looked so good. We mainly stayed apart to prevent any dalliance because one does not disappear from the Madame Secretary’s birthday party and the team doesn’t really know what’s happening behind the scenes except for Nat and Tony, really.

I really wanted to kiss him in front of our friends. I caught him staring a few times, and every time, the smile seemed to vanish off his face.

I’m lying in bed and it feels pretty empty.

It occurs to me that I’ve been in love for a pretty long time and I’m not even in a relationship with the guy.

Energy could’ve been devoted to so many other things and I’d hate being in love if it weren’t for the fact that it’s James.

Again, love making me sappy and all that.

Feb. 28/21

Dear Jane,

Jane is such a common name. Some would call it plain yet it means gift from God.

I wonder if James knew that.

Mar. 10/21

Dear Jane,

It’s James’ birthday. Birthday sex is a requirement and a desire. I also got him a gift which is a pair of new black Timbs. I hope he likes them. I’m excited for cake, I guess. Morgan did my makeup but I’m gonna have to wipe it off for the small little party tonight.

I think, ordinarily, I’d be in knots because it’s James’ birthday and I love him and he’s my best friend, but I just don’t know. March is fairly boring and contemplative and rainy. Work is work. Helen Cho did a presentation on her Cradle technology. Very cool.

Mar. 20/21

Dear Jane,

It’s raining and doesn’t feel like spring. Alpine vomited on my bed a few days ago because he’s not feeling well. James and I took him to the vet and he’s on antibiotics. Poor boy. He’s sleeping in the corner of my room right now while James is away on a mission. I think I’ll just work from my room for a bit until he’s feeling better.

Nothing much to report, which is why I didn’t write anything. The month passed by too quickly. James should be back by the end of the month. I miss him and not because of the sex. No one else who doesn’t work for me or pays me listens to me ramble on their own free will. Talking to screens just isn’t the same.

April 1/21

James got back really early this morning and I, by tradition, was awake. I sort of wish I wasn’t though. In true April Fool’s tradition, I made fun of him for being a day late to which he genuinely apologized. I told him to shower and get to sleep but he was in that mood where you’re so exhausted you’re wide awake.

James suggested we make really strong cocktails for each other as a celebration for an extraction mission completed successfully.

Who am I to say no to celebrating?

He really likes grapefruit juice so I made a REALLY strong Grapefruit Paloma. He made this really interesting drink that was purple and tasted like oranges and cranberries. A lot of blue curacao was in it so it was pretty bitter but it hit like a fucking truck which is probably why I didn’t understand anything he said at first.

He told me he loved me.

I think, somehow, he managed to get drunk after the Grapefruit Paloma and two more bottles of vodka. Don’t ask me how because Steve NEVER gets drunk. Maybe HYDRA-brand serum is faulty? I don’t know.

I asked if he knew what date it was. He laughed really loudly, said no, realized, stuttered apologies and then said it again.

It was the most perfect sound in the world and it was the best moment in recent history.

Or, the sickest practical joke.

Consensus not yet reached.

April 2/21

Dear Jane,

I asked if he remembered what happened yesterday morning.

He did not.

Sickest practical joke confirmed.

April 9/21

Dear Jane,

I’ve been avoiding writing because I’ve felt a whole lot of nothing. Everything is abysmal and James’ confession is all I can think about. Tony’s on my ass about slipping and he has half the mind to put me on paid leave until I get my shit together, both as the head of the department and as an agent.

Drunk words are sober thoughts, all that garbage.

I wish I could live my whole life drunk and honest. Maybe then I wouldn’t be in this situation where I’m stuck in eternal limbo with my best friend whom I’m in love with. Minus the drunk part.

Duty demands I return to this weathered journal until it’s finished so we’ll see. I might be back this month. Maybe not.

May 1/21

Dear Jane,

It rained a lot in April so now the flowers are blooming early. April showers bring May flowers. Guess it has some merit to it.

Limbo sucks. Its inescapable nature, its terrible facade of everything seeming fine when it really isn’t.

Of course, James still makes me smile, but nothing seems really okay when I let myself stop for a second.

I’m going out with Steve to a charity thing tomorrow. Should be a few hours worth of not thinking and free booze. Oh, and James and I made out in one of the quinjets after dinner today.

Felt weird considering we aren’t a couple, but it happened spontaneously as that is the nature of our relationship, it appears.

The cause also happens to be the cure of melancholy. Weird.

May 6/21

Dear Jane,

For context, it’s 5:23AM.

Went for a walk in Madison Square and then Central Park with James yesterday, although in my head it’s still today. We met up with Nat for some training at the gym. Got a bit mobbed by fans and the paps who asked if we were dating like we’re the tabloid’s biggest scoop.

We weren’t even holding hands, but I guess it’s just another reason why we shouldn’t be TOGETHER together in public.

We had another deep stuff talk again in bed after the usual business. I wanted to ask what this is between us and if he’s pursuing other options, because I’m not and I wanted to know if I should, but I also didn’t want to ruin the vibe.

He was in a good mood today, and seeing as sometimes he has nightmares, I thought it was best I don’t ruin it. He thinks I don’t notice but how do I not notice? He’s my best friend.

I kissed his cheek when he got up to leave and he kissed me goodbye on the lips.

I guess that means something.

May 17/21

Dear Jane,

In a moment of complete boredom, I listened to Imagine Dragons’ new album. It wasn’t too bad, to be honest, but Sharon thought it could’ve been better. Whatever.

May 22/21

Dear Jane,

Ran into ex-Girlfriend today. She still has that whole sunshine thing going on still. We had coffee and she asked if I got together with James yet.

I choked on my coffee and nearly died on the spot.

That’s how I learned that James apparently broke it off softly and ex-Girlfriend had, very wisely and knowingly, said that he should chase the apple of his eye before I (the apple) rotted alone and forgotten at the trunk of the tree. Or, as any sane person would say (and ex-Girlfriend DID say), get picked from the tree by another hand.

She said it was quite obvious that I was in love with James even months ago. She also thanked me for being so nice, anyway, and that it must’ve been difficult. What a fucking SAINT.

I set her up with a date with Steve because they have the same energy, honestly, and that’s going down on the 26th barring any emergencies.

Call me Cupid, but I think I just constructed the perfect match made in heaven.

Mentioned this meeting to James minus the apple detail. He asked if she was doing okay, which she was, and seemed glad for that. Between kisses and his sneaking hand beneath the covers, he also asked if there was anything else. Not really much to say on that front.

June 3/21

Dear Jane,

It’s starting to dry up consistently, now. It’s getting warmer, too. Sam brought me flowers and told me to at least turn the air-con on if I was gonna be stuck in the lab all day. Oh, the simplicities of summer are hopefully returning. Got out early and hung out with Morgan at the park in the evening.

It’s nice to hang out with someone so blissfully unaware with the stupidity of love. All Morgan cares about is grass and buttercups she grabs from the ground. She doesn’t have to worry about how to tell the guy she’s in love with that she loves him.

Oh, didn’t you hear? Nat said I should just buck the fuck up and tell him.

And Nat is scary when not listened to.

Much to brainstorm about.

June 14/21

Dear Jane,

Just here to brainstorm some ideas for future Stark Industries projects and thought I’d preface it with a small diary entry. Nothing really happened. Work’s catching up for some reason and bad guys are acting up. I’ve pulled a few all nighters, not gonna lie.

Really tired, but in a good, productive way. Haven’t thought much on the James front. Gonna have to focus on that after everything calms down.

June 20/21

Dear Jane,

It’s officially summer and yet today was awful with only subtle hints of being okay.

So much for simplicity.

In the evening, I read on the hammock on the balcony. No one really bothered me except James, but he’s never a bother.

Steve and ex-Girlfriend (who will now be reidentified as Girlfriend) are pretty cute, and she meshes well with the group. There’s nothing really awkward between her, James, or me, so I guess two people’s summers are going well. Bully for them.

Didn’t really eat. Was too busy working. James got me dinner. Didn’t feel right and just kept working. This whole agreement between us has been very flexible but we really need to fit in a session soon.

I’ll make it work somehow.

June 22/21

Dear Jane,

I got my wish and didn’t at the same time. We spent the whole day in the sheets (very blissfully relaxing) and I, stupidly and with very little sleep, let it slip.

In less elegant terms, I told him I loved him. It felt very real and genuine and very-out-of-a-movie, but his reaction was less so.

What did I say? Allergic to intimacy.

He tried to play it off as best friends and even that was uncomfortable, but I, very seriously and very foolishly, corrected him that “no, James Buchanan Barnes, I am IN LOVE with you.”

He left a few minutes ago, saying something about heading down to the gym, but I know he’s just trying to avoid me.

God, how am I so stupid?

June 25/21

Dear Jane,

I haven’t seen James in a few days. I thought he was avoiding me but turns out he’s out of the country. Something about protection for whatever dignitary is travelling at the end of the month. I don’t know.

I wasn’t assigned to that op so the details weren’t shared liberally. Sam just said it’d be a while during the ambassador’s entire stay. High threat level which is why the Avengers were contracted.

I just hope he stays safe. I know he probably took off to take his mind off things, but I don’t know how he’s focusing when all I can think of is those three little words.

I love you.

Seems so fake the more I hear it in my head, but his reaction was so real that I think I might’ve just irreversibly messed things up.

July 12/21

Dear Jane,

It’s been a hectic couple of weeks. If future me finds this with blotted words, it’s because I am indeed crying while writing this.

James was medically evac’ed last night and transferred back to New York. Helen Cho was flown in from her medical conference in Minnesota where she was showcasing the newest version of the Cradle.

There was an assasination attempt and James is fucked up bad.

Holy shit, I’m so scared. I’ve never been so scared in my life. It’s like an invisible demon has my heart in his claw-like hands and he’s squeezing with all his might. I think my heart might explode.

I just want to hold his hand but he’s so high risk no one’s allowed to see him right now.

The waiting room is too quiet. Steve’s holding on to Girlfriend’s hand so hard I think her bones are broken but she’s taking it like a champ. Nat’s pacing, slowly patting a sleeping Morgan who she’s carrying. Sam and Tony are talking about stuff.

It’s too quiet.

I’m so scared.

July 13/21

They got him into the Cradle. Thank God. I think I might cry some more out of relief, but he was conscious for a few minutes earlier and he’s stable now.

It’s really late at night but they extended privileges to me to stay with him so I’m just sitting here, writing. Listening to the Cradle do its thing and the monitors do theirs.

When he was conscious, I was with him. He said some stuff under his breath but the one thing I could make out was “I’m an idiot.”

Granted, he’s right. It was supposed to be Steve or Tony on that mission. You know, people with more defense op experience, but he had to go out and volunteer himself.

I feel sort of guilty.

It’s partially my fault, isn’t it?

I think I’ll try to tuck in for tonight. I wanna be awake when he wakes up, too.

July 14/21

Dear Jane,

James woke up today. He’s still in the Cradle (lots of internal damage spread throughout the body) but he’s conscious. He saw me and immediately tried to sit up which was sweet, but when he couldn’t, he just told me to come closer and then told me that he loved me.

I called him an idiot for running away. I told him he really scared me. I told him that I loved him so fucking much. I told him that I feel so guilty and he just held my face and said that it will never be my fault.

He’s so fucking romantic, even when he’s lying down with a wound being stitched closed live in front of my eyes.

Oh, and he kissed me. I don’t think I noticed how much I actually missed him until that moment.

I don’t know how to describe the feeling in my chest. It’s a mixture between super happy and super scared and super, super warm inside. Summer might be looking up.

July 18/21

Dear Jane,

We got home today. James is staying in my room. The team doesn’t say anything about it. We’re best friends, after all, but I think they’ve known for a long time that there’s something more. Some of them are just too polite to say so.

I won’t have much time to write over the next couple of days. James has to be kept on a strict, extremely healthy diet and medicine regime.

I don’t care. I’m just glad he’s home.

He’s kissing me a lot more, now. Alpine likes the fact that his two humans are now in the same room. He purrs so loudly, I can hear him from where he’s dozing, curled up underneath James’ chin. He (James) is resting after his second round of antibiotics for the day while I work from my room, and sometimes I catch myself looking back just to make sure he’s okay.

I’m going to go kiss him now.

Be right back.

July 21/21

Dear Jane,

It’s almost Nat’s birthday (the 26th). Super exciting. James is back on solids and I’m helping him around with walking. Even with the Cradle and the healing factor, he’s still super banged up, so it’s better safe than sorry.

We had a really long talk about love and stuff. It’s good to finally have it out in the open. It was mostly me talking about my side of things and he just nodded a lot. I know he was listening though.

We also kissed a lot, like seventeen year old couples who are heavy on the PDA, but within the privacy of my room. I dunno. I like the heat of his arms and the way he kisses the shell of my ear when he’s bored or it’s a commercial break.

It feels very natural.

I am very much in love with him.

I tell him that and he always looks skeptical, but whatever. He doesn’t have to say it back (I tell him that there’s no pressure) and he’ll get it through his thick skull eventually that he’s now stuck with me.

July 25/21

Dear Jane,

We made cookies in the early AM as tradition for the party tomorrow and I told him that I love him (again, but this time he didn’t run, nor has he the past few times. Fantastic).

While the cookies were baking, he explained everything on his side of the story: how he was scared to be vulnerable, how opening up to me is just different and new and scary and I get it. I really do. I know how it feels to think you don’t deserve good things and sabotage feels like the only way to save everyone from hurt.

He smiled a lot more after that. I guess he’s just glad I get it.

One day, I’ll successfully convince James that he deserves everything good this world has to offer.

Until then, I’ll just keep trying.

P.S. He said, with less hesitation than the first time, that he loves me, too. Best. Day. Ever.

P.P.S. The cookies are so good and I want to devour them all. I could barely stop James from eating all of them. Again: Best. Day. Ever.

July 26/21

Dear Jane,

In summary of today:

Happy birthday, Natasha.

James has been given the clear bill of health which is exciting. Also, I asked him about the Jane and gift of God thing.

He knew. “Intuition” and all that. He also said I looked “like a royal dame” in my swimsuit. Smug idiot just trying to be charming.

I love him and that’s the only reason it works.

Back to the festivities.

July 27/21

Dear Jane,

Good morning to you and to James who’s still in my bed at a ripe 6:23AM, fast asleep.

Progress. Now, back to sleep.

July 27/21

Dear Jane,

It’s now 9:49AM and James greeted me with orange juice and waffles. He said I was cute when I slept. Creep.

He also said he tried so many times to stay in my bed after, before we were like we are now, but he never could, and now he’s upset that he missed out on my cute sleeping/waking up for the day face every time he did so.

He is exceptionally cute when he’s pouting.

I think we’re officially boyfriend-girlfriend, but we’ll work out the semantics on that later. For now, it’s another summer day together. He suggested Chinese takeout for dinner because I have to go dip back into the lab later today to check on some samples.

I agreed and he kissed me in promise like it was our “thing.” I can’t stop smiling like an idiot.

Massive progress.

July 28/21

Dear Jane,

He told me I was the only one for him.

Also, he kissed me in front of our friends for the first time. Natasha yelled “FINALLY” and pushed us into the pool. Sam laughed and then I grabbed him and threw him into the pool. Ensuing: a water fight for the ages.

For a day: 10/10

July 31/21

Hey Jane,

I think I’m happy.

I’m sorry I ever doubted the effects of writing down my feelings.

James has a romantic trip to uptown planned for our first date and he said it’ll take the whole day so I thought I’d get this entry in the morning. I dunno. It’s really early and the happy thought was the first thing that came to my head.

Weird, but it’s a good weird.

See you in a bit.

517 notes · View notes

my-happy-little-bean · 5 years ago

Text

Do The Cooking By The Book

pairings: LAMP/CALM words: 6013 warnings: swearing, alcohol, implied panic attacks, small burn mention, general angst summary: patton bakes when he’s sad and nowadays, no amount of chewy chocolate chip cookies would be able to cover that up.

or: the five times patton bakes something for the others and the one time he can’t.

a/n- hello! welcome to part 2 of that series i mentioned before called ‘let’s indulge bean in their slightly low quality, very personal fics’ (maybe i should actually make this an actual series on ao3 lol) :’)

i have been having a bit of writer’s block between this patton/janus one shot and golden slumbers (there's just o n e more scene i need to figure out, trust me it's haunting my every move), so i decided to write a bit of a fresh warm up instead! and by warm up, i mean i started writing it in the beginning of july and it somehow spiralled into a big thing, like they always do :’)

inspired by my declining mental health and my unhealthy obsession with baking focaccia at 2 am :)

p.s – later there's a [1] that's supposed to be a footnote but the formatting just said no so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

read on ao3 ~

enjoy!

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

~ patton’s chewy chocolate chip cookies ~

ingredients:

2 3/4 cups all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon baking powder

1 teaspoon baking soda

0 teaspoon club soda

2 1/2 sticks unsalted butter, softened (or melted, like my heart around my honeybees <3)

1 3/4 cups packed dark brown sugar (must be working out ;) )

1/4 cup granulated sugar sugar, honey honey (except no honey :P)

2 large eggs, room temp.

2 teaspoons vanilla extract (and not any extra-ct ;) )

2 cups Virgil-esque chocolate chips*

*semi-sweet! ^v^

––

“Holy shit, Pat.”

Patton smiled, all toothy and wide. He was still standing beside the couch Roman was lounging on, holding up the tray with his pastel blue oven mitts.

“You like it?” he beamed. Roman nodded, scrambling over the armrest to grab another.

“Umfh, yeah,” Roman replied, crumbs spilling out of his mouth. “Ovfiously.”

“...What?”

Roman quickly swallowed and grinned sheepishly. “Sorry.”

Patton laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “No worries! I think it’s a- dough -able.”

“...If you weren’t holding cookies right now, I'd say that you suck. But you're holding cookies, so..."

There was a pause that Patton quickly filled with laughter, even if it suddenly felt like he was struggling to carry the sound out of his chest and into the air.

Luckily, Logan walked into the room before Patton could say anything that was affected by the spontaneous pang in his chest. His eyes lit up upon seeing him.

“Logan!” He cheerily dashed over to the other side of the room, holding up the tray to Logan’s face. “A treat for my smart cookie?”

Logan reeled back slightly to avoid getting hit by the edge of the tray. He pushed up his glasses.

“Ah, thank you, dear. But I do believe it is too early for copious amount of sugar consumption–”

“Just try one, cookie-tita,” Roman cut him off, “you and I know that you want one.”

Logan frowned at him over Patton’s shoulder, then looked back at Patton. He gave Logan the widest smile he could muster, which made him sigh.

“While Roman’s reference was a bit of a stretch–” He eyed the cookies one more time, then looked back at Patton– ”I suppose I will agree to half a cookie.”

“Goody!” Patton said brightly. “Or should I say, gooey?”

“You shouldn’t.”

Logan picked one cookie up and took a small bite. His eyes softened, which made Patton’s heart melt.

“...Oh sweet Einstein,” he muttered, grabbing one more cookie off the tray before making a beeline to the coffee machine in the kitchen. Patton just smiled to himself, admittedly a bit proud.

Before he turned around to go see if Logan needed help, he heard shuffling coming up beside him. He looked over and smiled.

“Virge! You’re awake!” Virgil pulled one side of his headphones up as Patton presented him the tray. “Cookie?”

“Uh, sure.” He took one and nodded when he had a few bites, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Thanks, Pat.”

“No problemo!” he chirped, wandering back to the living room. Virgil trailed behind him, now slipping his headphones around his neck.

“Did you bake these this morning?” Virgil asked as Patton set the tray on the coffee table in front of Roman, who readily lunged at it. Patton turned and smiled brightly at him.

“Yeah! I mean...it was technically morning, heh.”

Virgil blinked in that knowing way Patton was all too familiar with. Patton mentally cursed.

“What do you mean by technically–”

Before he could say anything else, Patton clapped his hands together.

“Well, I’m glad you all liked the cookies.” He tried not to think about how loud his own voice suddenly was. “Feel free to finish them!”

Roman frowned, mid-bite of his third cookie.

“Don’t you want any, sweetheart?"

“No no! I chip-ed in so much effort in baking them that I tired myself out, heh!” He faked a yawn. “I’ll just go to my room!”

Roman just laughed, stuffing another cookie in his mouth with a shrug. Logan wandered back from the kitchen, conjuring a book as he walked and nodding at Patton. He grabbed another cookie and sat on the couch beside Roman, leaning against his shoulder.

Virgil just looked at him as he left, eyes narrowed and steely.

They’re so perfect, Patton thought as he sunk out to go to his room, leaving the three of his boyfriends alone with a wave. Perfect just the way they are.

Without me.

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

~ ‘i got ya’ focaccia ~

ingredients:

for the garlic-infused mixture

1/2 cup extra-virgin, PG-rated olive oil

2-3 minced garlic cloves

0 garlic gloves (haha i’m hilarious)

1 tablespoon chopped fresh thyme or 1 teaspoon dried

1 tablespoon chopped fresh rosemary or 1 teaspoon dried

1/4 teaspoon fresh ground black pepper

for the bread

1 cup warm water

2 1/4 teaspoons active dry yeast (1 packet)

1/4 teaspoon honey honey, you are my candy girl–

2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt (maybe it’s wearing some nice clothes!) (sea what i did there? i’m funny, aren’t i?)

––

Virgil heard a soft ‘ shit ’ coming from the kitchen.

Don’t panic, it’s probably all fine, he thought, slowly walking towards the entrance to the kitchen. It’s totally not some burglar, ready to steal all our spices and blow them into my eye, making me blind. It can’t be, we’re not even real so how could there be a burglar–

As he neared the dimmed light coming from the kitchen, however, a quiet sob broke through his thoughts.

A chill ran through him. The sob was muffled, squeaky, and admittedly a bit pathetic in terms of how there was an attempt to cover it up. Almost like the sound a puppy would make when someone accidentally stepped on their paw.

All too familiar.

“Patton?” he murmured, turning on another light in the kitchen.

Patton was hunched over the counter space beside the oven, next to a saucepan on a burner; which was emitting a strong garlic and herb smell.

That wasn’t what Virgil was focusing on, though; but rather the way Patton held his hand close to his chest.

Patton spun around on his heel when his name left Virgil’s tongue, his eyes wide and glazed over, like a deer caught in headlights.

“Sh– Virgil! Hi!” He laughed nervously. “What are you doing here? It’s like, 2 am!”

Virgil dug his hands in his sweater pockets. “I’m always up at 2 am. What are you doing here?”

He watched as Patton’s smile forcefully tugged at the corners of his lips.

“I’m baking focaccia! Wanna join?”

There was a slight crack in his cheeriness. Virgil took a step closer.

“What happened to your hand?”

Patton looked down at it, then held up his index finger, which was slightly red.

“Just accidentally brushed up against the pan!” he chuckled. “It was still hot. ”

“How could you brush up against the pan,” Virgil deadpanned, hopping onto the kitchen island. “Roman’s asleep.”

Patton blushed as he ran his finger under cold water.

“Grab the flour and pour a cup of it in that bowl,” he said, shaking his hand dry and going back to the stove. “I think that the yeast and honey had enough time in the water. I’m just about done with the garlic stuff.”

“Okay, honey,” Virgil hummed, already scooping the flour in the measuring cup.

Patton turned to face him over his shoulder with a smile.

“Gosh, you get funnier at 2 am, kiddo.”

Virgil shrugged. “It’s easy to cater to your humour, babe. Though no one does it as good as you do.”

Patton’s blush intensified, and it made Virgil feel a little more at ease that he could still make him flustered like that.

“So really, Pat,” Virgil asked, stirring in the flour as Patton went over with a smaller cup of the garlic-infused mixture. “Why are you up so late baking focaccia of all things?”

A pause. Patton finished pouring in his cup before turning his back away, his head low.

“No reason!” he said brightly, though Virgil suddenly felt edges of darkness to each word. “I thought it’d be nice. Plus Roman loves my focaccia. Thought I could surprise him!”

A pause. Virgil wanted to press him more, but there was something about Patton’s cracked smile that advised him against it. He knew a warning when he saw one.

“He likes anything you bake him, babe,” he said instead, adding salt and the rest of the flour before beginning to knead the dough in the bowl. “You could bake him a frog and he’d be grateful.”

“Now Virge, I think you’re mixing the twins up again,” Patton giggled. Virgil smirked, even if he felt like he shouldn’t. There was such heavy air in the kitchen; a positive emotion wouldn’t last a second.

“You sure you’re okay, Patton?”

When Patton finally faced him, it felt like the air was sucked out of him. Now that he was standing under the light, he felt like he saw all of him more clearly. There were dried tear tracks running down his cheeks. Did he always have those? And under his eyes were bags of purple, dark and stormy; clear evidence that maybe Patton had been late-night baking before.

However, that broken smile was what haunted Virgil the most.

“I’m just peachy, Virge!” he chirped, conjuring up a towel and covering the bowl of dough Virgil probably over-kneaded. Patton’s eyes seemed to drill right into his own. “ Positive.”

Virgil numbly nodded as Patton clapped his hands.

“Well! Now we wait!” He smiled again at Virgil. “Want some coffee?”

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

~ mushy gushy marshmallows ~

ingredients:

marshmallow base

2 cups of sugar

1/4 cup corn syrup

1 cup water (1/2 for for dissolving gelatin)

7 tsp / 3 packets of gelatin

1/4 tsp salt

1 1/2 tsp of vanilla extract

dusting powder

1 cup confectioner’s sugar

1/2 cup cornstarch

*note to future patton: don’t make these, actually. they suck.

––

“Fuck!”

Logan heard the curse from the kitchen, lifting his head from his book and immediately smelling for any smoke.

“Patton?”

There was no smoke. Instead, just another string of curses. Logan sighed; it was not like the moral side to swear. But reprimanding him didn’t sound like a wise idea.

Instead, he set his book down on the coffee table in front of him and wandered to the kitchen.

“Is everything oka–”

He stopped mid-sentence and looked at the sight in front of him.

Surrounding him was a sugary mess, with many bowls of gelatin and water littering the entire counter. Logan could only assume they were failed attempts at whatever was being made today.

In the middle of this mess was Patton, holding the hand mixer up in the air with tears streaming down his face.

“...Let’s put the hand mixer down, shall we?”

Logan moved forward before Patton could even respond, slowly lowering his hand that held the mixer. Patton just sobbed, dropping it on the floor in defeat. Logan tried not to panic at the suddenly broken hand mixer. Logically, they could summon a new one. It was extra energy, sure, but it was fixable.

However, he wasn’t quite sure he could fix the sight in front of him.

“Is there something wrong, starlight?” he murmured, ushering Patton toward the kitchen table. Patton just sighed.

“It’s the stupid marshmallows.” Patton threw his apron onto the floor as he sat down. “I just don’t get what I’m doing wrong. I tried everything. And they– they just suck.”

Logan blinked, almost dumbfounded. In all the years he spent together with Patton, he had never seen him so distraught. Not even his arguably-worse decisions elicited a response similar to the frustration he was currently witnessing. Patton always wore a smile and carried on. Any mistake was just a mistake; nothing more to it.

So what was different here?

“I even tried summoning a candy thermometer,” Patton continued. Logan tried his best to be present, even if his worry was slowly overtaking all of his senses. “Those things are stupid! I thought–”

“Hey,” Logan finally said, cutting Patton off by holding his hands into his. “Let’s slow down for a minute, okay?”

When Patton looked up at him, his heart broke.

Patton’s eyes were glassy with tears, some kind of foreign look not too far behind his irises. The absence of his smile was even more unsettling.

He looked completely different; as if someone took one of the loves of his life and replaced him without even leaving a trace.

Suddenly, he was filled with what he only assumed was longing.

“Patton,” he said slowly, looking down at their intertwined hands, “please don’t worry about the marshmallows. They’re just marshmallows. Clearly there is something else that is–”

He cut himself off as he heard Patton’s breath hitch. When he looked up, there was a faraway look in his eyes.

And that was when it clicked. That foreign look…

It was fear. Fear and guilt, all wrapped up in one.

The face of someone who just got caught.

Patton quickly pulled his hands away from Logan’s, stumbling onto his feet and muttering something about cleaning up later under his breath as he sunk out.

Logan blinked, taken completely aback. He quickly re-evaluated every word he said that could have led to him leaving.

“They’re just marshmallows.”

Logan winced. Shit. Perhaps Patton was still in his ‘in his feelings phase; not his ‘in need of rational solution’ phase. He should have known better and now, Patton was further away from him than he was before.

Logan then thought about the guilt that struck Patton’s face before he could confront him; the fear in his eyes when Logan dared to dig a little deeper.

Patton wasn’t far away, actually.

Patton was just gone; and Logan didn’t know where to look to find him.

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

~drunken bitter butter rumcakes~

ingrdents:

for the cupcakes:

1 cup of choped picans

1/2 cup coconut flake

yellow cake mix, lots of it probs

some vanilla puddin apparently? i dont know why

eggs i dont care how much fuck it

1/2 milk

vegetable oil (optional cuz it sounds gros)

rum

for the bitter rum glaze:

some butter and sugar

more rum

rum

for the frosting

confictione confecion confectioniser’s powdered sugar

soft buttter

vanilla extract

rest of the bottl eof rum probably

––

It only took a crash from the kitchen for Roman to realize that Logan and Virgil were right: something was wrong with Patton.

Virgil had been the first one to express his concern, and it was right on the day Patton baked them all cookies. Patton had since baked many more cookies; which for some reason, only intensified his worry. Roman didn’t think much of it at first. Virgil, bless his soul, always held a bit of his paranoia close to his chest. Plus, Patton’s cookies were the best! There wasn’t much to complain about. A few days later, Virgil mentioned something weird about Patton’s focaccia; but even that admittedly didn’t raise any concern from Roman.

It was when Logan mentioned the marshmallow incident that Roman knew something might be off.

The two had warned him that going to the kitchen late at night could possibly bring some less than ideal sights, but that only drew Roman closer; like a beautiful moth attracted to light. If Patton was truly upset, Roman had to be there! He knew that the others didn’t know much about navigating the small crises Patton would have every now and then, but Roman did! It was Patton, after all! Roman had experience — and he just had to play it by the book.

But when he finally walked into the kitchen upon hearing the source of the crash, he was greeted with something he never quite saw before.

Patton was on the ground, holding a long, glass bottle by its neck and a bowl—with all its contents—was splattered on the floor beside him.

Roman stood there, almost dumbfounded. Patton didn’t even realize he was there before he looked up and blinked a few times.

Then, Patton started to cry.

“Oh, sunshine,” Roman murmured, sitting next to him on the floor. The strong stench of alcohol filled the air beside Patton, and Roman saw a glimpse of a rum label on the bottle. It was half empty.

“M’sorry,” Patton mumbled under his breath, immediately resting his head on Roman. “Didn’t–” He hiccuped– ”Didn’t mean to make noise.”

“Shh, mi amor, it’s okay.” Roman stroked his hair slowly, going through the familiar motions of comforting his boyfriend. “I understand. Let me help you, okay?”

Another sob wracked through Patton’s body.

“I– I don’t deserve your help.” The words came out in a slur. Roman had a slight feeling that Patton didn’t use all the rum in his bottle for baking.

“Nonsense! Of course you deserve help,” Roman whispered, twirling a strand of his hair. “I’m here to help you. I always am.”

Patton leaned into the touch, though the weight of his head seemed heavier than usual; like he was unintentionally pressing himself onto Roman, limp against his shoulders.

“S’fine,” he said after a few more teary hiccups, trying to push himself onto his feet. “Gotta– gotta finish cupcakes. Tryna new recipe.”

Roman frowned. “The cupcakes can wait until tomorrow, Patton; I’m going to bring you to bed and clean up–”

“No!”

Roman jumped at the sheer volume of Patton’s voice, suddenly nervous that he’d wake the rest of them up.

I can handle this myself, he thought. I always have been able to, this isn’t different.

“No, I don’t– I don’t need your help.” Patton stumbled up to his feet, leaning his arms on the kitchen counter like it was a life raft. He buried his head in his hands. “I don’t need your help, I don’t need anyone’s help, I just need– I just need to finish this, then–”

“Darling, I don’t think–”

“No thinkin!” He pushed his index finger onto Roman’s lips. “No thinking, that’s for Logan. Tonight, we’re not thinking of anything– not thinking about anything anymore.”

Roman was taken aback.

“Patton, we can continue,” he said gently, “but only if you sit down first and let me grab you some water, okay?”

Patton lifted his head to face Roman, his eyes red from the tears.

“Why do you take care of me?” he suddenly asked, his voice a small whimper. Roman froze as he continued. “Why do– why do any of you care?”

“Patton, I–”

“I don’t do my fucking job right anyway,” Patton hissed. “I’m– I’m broken junk in Thomas’ brain! I can’t even do the right and wrong thing, I can’t– I can’t make him happy. I can’t make you guys happy– ‘n I love you guys! God, I can’t even make stupid cupcakes–”

“None of that is true, Pat,” Roman tried to protest. “You make us extremely happy, you make me– ”

“You’re a liar!” Patton cried, turning on his heel to stare at Roman, whose heart dropped. “You’re– you’re a fucking liar, Roman.”

The air suddenly felt too thick for both of them to be breathing. Patton must have noticed that because as soon as the words left his tongue, he covered his mouth with his hands with teary eyes.

“...Patton, please sit down. You’re not thinking straight.”

“M’not–”

“I know.” Roman tried to keep his voice levelled as he spoke. “Just...just sit down, okay? We’re going to talk it all through.”

Patton just stared at him blankly for what seemed like an eternity before finally speaking up.

“I’m sorry.”

And before Roman could plead for him one last time, Patton sunk out, the bottle of rum still in his hand.

Roman blinked at the spot Patton once stood in, all shaky and teary like he was facing an inky, twisted nightmare. His words echoed in his head and while Roman knew it was best not to take it all to heart, he still felt the sting of each curse.

What kind of a hero was he?

He then looked at the splattered mixture on the floor and sighed. It looked a lot like cake mix. And if there was rum in that, it probably would’ve been good. A shame, really.

His eyes then spotted a book on the kitchen counter, open to a page that had a bit of rum on it judging by the smell. Roman frowned, going over to grab it. He closed it to look at the cover.

It seemed to be Patton’s recipe book, judging by the baking-themed stickers littering the blue cover. When he opened it, he was greeted with pages of ingredients and instructions to make some of Patton’s signature baked goods. The first few pages made Roman smile; there were puns besides some of the ingredients and even cheesy references to him, Logan, and Virgil. It seemed very Patton-esque.

But as he went further through the pages, the tone seemed to shift. There was an absence of puns for one of the recipes, and Roman knew he could’ve at least hit a few. And when he got further than that, he just stopped writing measurements all together. The rum cupcake recipe, which seemed like a recent entry, was barely decipherable.

He flipped back a few pages and saw words scratched out; sentences that didn’t belong in a typical cookie recipe. And the corners of some of the pages were crisp, as if water dried on them over time.

Roman’s breath hitched as he closed the book. Something was wrong, and for the first time he didn’t know what to do.

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

~ whats good-berry muffins ~

ingredients

who

cares

theyre

just

stupid

muffins

berries, probably

––

“Roman, he did not mean what he said,” Logan said as Roman paced in front of him. “Perhaps you caught him at a bad time.”

“A bad time?” Virgil echoed incredulously, turning around on the couch to face Logan. “Dude, he was wasted. That’s not a bad time, that’s a ‘code red’ time.”

“Besides, shouldn’t you be advocating for intervention, lo -ve of my life?” Roman asked, still pacing. “You seemed pretty upset about the now-called ‘marshmallow incident’.”

Virgil gave Logan a look and Logan looked down, almost embarrassed.

“...I have since realized that my actions were not ideal, but that is to no fault of my own. Holding guilt does no good, and neither does intervening when one does not want to be...intervened upon.”

“Okay first off, even Janus lies more subtly than that.” Logan didn’t make eye contact with him, but stiffened at Virgil’s words. “And second of all, Patton needs support. We’re supposed to be there for him – not just waiting for the most dire sign. The plane is crashing, Logan; you can’t just put your seatbelt on and wait. You have to do something.”

“Actually, if an airplane is crashing and you are instructed to put your seatbelts on, it is of your best interest that you–”

“For Odin’s sake,” Roman groaned. “I love you, my nerd in shining armour; but you got to learn what a metaphor is.”

Logan fell quiet as Roman continued.

“We need to do something. This isn't a typical Patton dilemma. And I know he doesn’t want to talk about it just out of the blue so we can’t confront him. We have to figure out a way for him to trust us.”

“He loves us,” Virgil grumbled, though hints of anxiety singed the edges of his words. “Shouldn’t the trust be there already?”

“Virgil, he loves us an infinite amount,” Logan said reassuringly, finally settling back into the chair. He pushed up his glasses. “In fact, he probably loves us too much to want to worry us or cause us any emotional strain.”

“But it wouldn’t cause us– well, whatever you said!” Virgil protested. He slumped over, his elbows pressed into his thighs. He looked defeated. “I just want to help him. I can’t stand seeing him like this.”

“I know, stormcloud,” Roman murmured, sitting down beside us. “But...but we can do this. Together. We always have and now, we will.”

Logan nodded, tapping his shoulder so Virgil could rest against it.

“Roman is correct. Besides, we do not even have to confront him. Perhaps confrontation is where part of this issue stems from. The trust is there, we just have to remind him that we are willing to, given that we are his partners. We just need to make a comfortable environment for–”

Suddenly, Virgil felt a small tug in his chest; as if something was pulling him downwards. His eyes widened and his breath hitched at the sensation. He knew where it was coming from.

“Guys, it’s Patton. Something’s wrong.”

In a flash, he sunk out, Logan and Roman soon following suit. Roman pulled out his sword just in case.

When they rose, they found themselves in Patton’s room; though it was less bright than usual. The fairy lights were flickering and swaying against the walls and the frames were all askew. It looked as if it was struggling to keep itself together.

And in the middle of the room was Patton, on the floor and tugging at his hair as he cried, heaving into each sob. Surrounding him were boxes of half-summoned muffin mix, as well as some sugar slowly fading out of existence. In front of him was his recipe book, tearstained and ripped at the edges.

Virgil immediately went to Patton’s side, scooping him up into his arms. Patton made no effort to protest, his body still clenched up from all the energy he was spending summoning the ingredients into his room. In the corner of his eye, he could even see the beginnings of what would be an oven.

“Patton,” Virgil heard Logan breathe out, still standing in the same spot behind them, almost in shock. “You are spending too much energy summoning all these things, your room nor your form cannot handle it. Why don’t you just go to the kitchen?”

Patton sobbed even more, tugging at his hair and curling up into Virgil’s chest. Virgil looked up at Logan over Patton’s hunched shoulders and just shook his head, his eyes flickering between him and Patton.

Logan then made a small ‘o’ shape with his mouth, slowly approaching the two on the floor and sitting cross-legged beside him. He made an attempt to lower Patton’s hands from his hair. Eventually, it turned into him rubbing small circles in Patton’s back with the palm of his hand, softly whispering “it’s okay” under his breath as he moved closer to him and Virgil.

Roman dropped his sword onto the floor and followed suit, grabbing a fluffy blanket from Patton’s bed and going behind his three boyfriends, laying the blanket over their shoulders as if he was shielding them from the unstable room surrounding them. He hovered over their shoulders for a while before kneeling down and hugging all three of them.

And as the ingredients slowly disappeared around them, the room began to fix itself. Patton could breathe a bit slower now, yet the others curled up into him like the warm blanket they were surrounded by.

Eventually, Patton realized that he was no longer crying; yet everyone stayed.

And then, Patton fell asleep; and they stayed for that too.

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

~ Don’t Forget-ti That We Love You Funfetti Cake* ~

Ingredients:

For the cake

1 and 2/3 cup (210g) all-purpose flour

1/2 teaspoon baking powder

1/4 teaspoon baking soda (because so-da one for us!) [1]

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 cup (1 stick or 115 g) unsalted butter, melted

3/4 cup (150g) granulated sugar

1/4 cup (50g) packed light brown sugar

1 large egg

1/4 cup (60g) yogurt

3/4 cup (180ml) milk

1 Tablespoon (15ml) pure vanilla extract

2/3 cup (90g) sprinkles (nonpareils not recommended**)

For the buttercream

1 cup (2 sticks or 230g) unsalted butter, softened to room temperature

3–4 cups (360-480g) confectioners’ sugar

1/4 cup (60ml) heavy cream

2 and 1/2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract

salt, to taste

*Virgil actually came up with this and thinks its so lame so thats why that’s the name LOL ~ Roman

[1] Roman wrote this pun but I am making the executive decision to retract this comment from the original script because it is not a necessary part of the recipe.

**can you tell that lo was the one who wrote the recipe ~ v

––

Patton tried his hardest to fight the pull coming from the kitchen.

It’s been a few days since the others found him in his room after his failed ‘bake muffins in isolation’ mission and Patton hadn’t dared to bake since. After all, if that incident wasn’t a good enough warning, the other times they found him in the kitchen were. He couldn’t let them see him like this again, what ‘this’ was.

The others thought they knew he was upset about something, but Patton didn’t know how to tell them that he didn't even know what he was feeling. He wasn’t upset, he wasn’t stressed; he was just feeling every feeling, all at once.

And he didn’t know what to do.

Baking was the only thing he could do when he felt like this. He longed to see a smile on Virgil’s face; to watch Logan actually eat and enjoy it rather than talking about how it didn’t matter that they ate; to laugh as Roman scarfed all of it down and ask for the recipe. The recipe book was actually going to be Roman’s gift for their anniversary. It made his heart ache even more knowing that it wasn’t good enough for him anymore.

When he felt everything or nothing at all, he would just bake and watch as the people he loved were filled with joy; and Patton, selfish as it is, would bask in the sunlight they radiated. If he kept baking and kept making them happy? Well, their light could never disappear.

But then, it did.

And Patton couldn’t bear to stand in the darkness of that kitchen anymore.

Still, the tugging persisted. Patton secretly hoped that him pitying himself would guilt whatever force was summoning him to the kitchen into giving up its pursuit.

Patton sighed, tugging the strings of his cat hoodie a little tighter so that the hood with wrap around his head. Maybe if he didn’t show his face, no one would see that he had been crying for an hour or so.

When he sunk out, he was met with a warmly-lit kitchen and a small cake in the middle of the dining table.

Patton frowned, walking towards it curiously. It was a very...rustic cake, if rustic still meant ‘messy’ in baking terms. The icing was a bit rough around the edges and he felt like the writing in icing was supposed to say “WE ❤ U” but the heart looked a bit like...well, Patton didn’t want to say.

Still, it was rather cute. There was a small plate beside it with a fork and a slice of the cake, dots of sprinkles baked into it. Patton smiled; it seemed to be a funfetti cake! His favourite!

Patton took a bite out of the cake without really thinking about it, his smile only growing at the sweet taste.

That was when he saw the book.

It laid neatly beside the plate, open to a page he didn’t quite remember writing. On it were various scribbles of bright red ink mixed with blue ink, along with a note written in pencil at the bottom of the page. He recognized the handwriting immediately as he picked up the book and began to tear up.

“Virgil, if he does not want to be summoned you cannot–”

Patton looked up from the book and saw Logan and Virgil suddenly at the entrance to the kitchen, stopped in their tracks with their eyes wide. They stared at each other for a brief moment before Virgil huffed, breaking the silence.

“See, Lo?” He kissed Logan's cheek and went on his tip-toes to ruffle his hair, much to Logan’s dismay. “Patton always comes down for cake.”

Patton dropped the book on the table and went over to sweep the two in a big hug, warm and tight and filled with love. Virgil fell quiet, but hugged back as Logan chuckled, patting Patton’s back.

“I sincerely hope the cake is to your standards, Patton,” he said as he pulled back. “I know that the aesthetics are not...well, they are not ideal; Roman spent so much time planning that he forgot to take into account the amount of time we’d actually have–”

“Logan?” Patton said, his voice still scratchy from being close to tears. “I love you. It’s perfect.”

Logan smiled brightly, the light from it almost blinding Patton.

“You guys didn’t have to bake for me!” Patton rubbed at his eyes with a small laugh. “I know baking a cake is no easy task, especially a funfetti cake!”

Virgil shrugged. “Logan led most of it. I kinda just made sure the kitchen didn’t explode. You know how those two can get."

Patton giggled. “Of course.”

“Roman should be on his way shortly,” Logan said, pushing up his glasses. “He is acquiring a few blankets and pillows from his room.”

Patton perked up at the thought. Roman’s blankets were made of the softest, most delicate velvet. The idea made his chest warm up.

“You guys did all of this for me?” Patton asked, his voice small.

“Of course we did, Pat.” Virgil held Patton’s hand and kissed it softly. “We love you. And we want to be here for you; even in the less-than-ideal times. You would do the same for us.”

“But we do not expect you to dwell on your emotions if you do not feel comfortable doing so,” Logan continued as he went over to the dining room to grab the cake. “If you would like, we can watch Disney movies and eat cake and provide a distraction. However, we want to reassure you that we are here to listen to whatever is troubling you, so whenever you feel comfortable, please do not hesitate to reach out.” He paused. "We do not have to find a solution right now. We can metaphorically 'sit in the feelings' for a while."

Patton smiled as Logan arrived at his and Virgil’s side. He kissed Patton’s shoulder softly before making his way to the living room, where Patton could hear Roman rambling about what movie would be the best to watch; and he heard Logan’s rebuttals come after.

And walking out of the kitchen and into the living room could only be described as a slow-moving blur. Patton watched as Roman spotted him and swept him up into a big hug, startling Virgil who was later brought into the hug as well. He watched as Logan gave them an amused smile, patting the blankets Roman arranged under a pillow fort in front of the TV, the opening to Tangled—Patton’s favourite—playing on the screen.

“I love you guys,” Patton murmured as he sat in the middle of the pillow fort, a plate with cake in front of him. Logan sat beside him with a nod, kissing his head as he summoned four forks with a smile. Roman and Virgil found their way somehow into the tangled mess of each other, cuddling against Logan and Patton until they were the closest humans, or sides, could ever get.

And no one complained when Patton paused the movie when Eugene got stabbed, crying a bit and telling them about how that scene sort of reminded him about what he felt the night before. No one left when Patton began to spiral a bit from that and sob into his cake, finally admitting to them his thoughts and how he had just been feeling everything.

And then, everyone stayed; even after that.

425 notes · View notes

elsanna-shenanigans · 3 years ago

Text

August Contest Submission #18: The Concrete Rose

Words: ca. 5,500 Setting: mAU Lemon: No CW: Angst, brief Hansanna

October 12, 2019

From the second Elsa saw her roommate, she knew she would become her muse.

Douglas Academy of the Arts produced hundreds of graduates every year already with an astounding, artistic reputation. Anyone that had a future in the arts ran through Douglas Academy first. But that prestige came at a price, success at all costs meant that almost everyone was cold and cutthroat; no one was a classmate, everyone was competition.

It was a mantra that all the students bought into except for two people: Elsa and her roommate Anna. From a simple handshake and a peace offering in the form of a chocolate bar (“The vending machine accidentally gave me two, how lucky is that?!”), Anna stood out from everyone else in Elsa’s eyes.

They became quick friends despite how drastically different they were. Elsa was reserved and stayed in her head a lot, Anna loved people and spoke every thought that came to her. Elsa was constantly second-guessing her decisions and had a keen eye for details, Anna was more impulsive and loved seeing the bigger picture. Elsa was a sculptor who kept her works secret until they were finished, Anna was a dancer who would always post videos of her practicing for her latest performance.

The one thing they had in common was their need to support the other.

One day well into their first semester, Anna barged into Elsa’s room with a flyer that she’d gotten in almost all her classes: an advertisement for the 3-D Art Showcase in three weeks. “You’re doing this, right?” she asks, pushing the flyer in front of Elsa’s face. “You’re entering a thingie into the thing?”

Elsa plucked the flyer out of Anna’s hands and turned back around in her chair, “Not a chance. I heard first years get eaten alive at these showcases, I’ll wait until next year.”

“Oh come on! You’d kick so much ass if you entered something. Remember that clay canary you made me?” Anna pressed her palms against Elsa’s shoulders, which almost knocked the pencil out of the unexpecting sculptor’s hands.

Elsa shook her head, “That was different. I’d have to make like… something fancy and intricate if I want to even be considered for the showcase.”

“Well, can’t you at least try? Please?” Anna slid her hands down so she could wrap her arms around Elsa’s shoulders from behind. “I can help you just like you helped me while I was rehearsing my first interpretive dance.”

It took a while for Elsa to get used to Anna’s touchiness, but she learned to accept it. This was just another thing that added to Anna’s eclectic personality, and besides Elsa was a big fan of the rosemary body wash she was using. “Anna, all I did was press play on your speaker.”

“Which helped out a lot!” Anna assured her. “You know how much energy I could have wasted doing that myself?”

“… not a lot?”

“Just think about joining, okay? Knowing you, I bet you probably have like five ideas running through your head and when you pick one, I’ll do whatever I can to help turn that idea into something concrete.”

Well if thinking about it was all that Anna was asking her to do, then Elsa could do that. Less commitment that way. And she was right, of course, there were five ideas floating around in Elsa’s mind but none of them she could latch on to and say that that was the one to work on. “Alright fine,” she said after a dramatically heavy sigh, “I’ll think about it.”

“That’s my girl! Oh shit, I’m gonna be late for rehearsal!” Anna sprinted out of Elsa’s room to grab her dancing shoes. Before slamming their shared door shut, she said, “If you eat my spaghetti, I’ll kill you!”

November 5, 2019

There was something that Anna told her that day which stuck with Elsa much more than she thought it would.

Turning an idea into something concrete.

What if she sculpted something out of concrete? It was a near guarantee that a lot of the sculptors entering the showcase would be using clay, recycled metals, or wood; using concrete would probably help her stand out and better her chances of being picked. After a researching how to make this work, and some choice words of encouragement and dancing from Anna, Elsa set to work getting everything she needed for her crazy idea.

There was still, of course, one glaring problem: What was she going to sculpt?

Her answer came to her during Anna’s first performance of the semester. It was an interpretive dance that told the story of a young gladiator fighting for the freedom of his sister who was enslaved by a vindictive landowner. Her ability to tell this story without words (not even in the song she chose) wowed the audience and inspired Elsa as she waited for every beat of the story she’d seen Anna tell maybe a hundred times in their dorm.

Elsa decided to recreate one of the poses Anna did where she jumped in the air and punched her arm out like she was thrusting a spear into an unseen adversary. It was a painstaking process that tested her dexterity and her patience even more so, she shut herself in her room until it was finished. In the end, the sculpture was much smaller than she wanted it to be because she underestimated how much concrete mix she actually needed. And a piece of Anna’s skirt chipped off because it refused to stick to the wire mesh. Still, overall she was very impressed with herself.

And so it seemed was the showcase committee, because she was given one of the last remaining spots on the showcase floor.

Elsa somehow found a way to keep Anna from seeing it beforehand, so when she went with her roommate to the showcase, her reaction was genuine.

Anna gasped, “Holy shit, is this me?! She’s so pretty!”

Everyone in the building looked at them with judgmental glares, especially the judges. Elsa didn’t mind all that much, she wasn’t expecting to take a ribbon home, this was more about proving she could hang with Douglas’ best and to thank Anna for supporting her these past few months.

“I ran out of time to add details to the face, so I kept it blank,” Elsa explained. “I hope it doesn’t look too creepy.”

Anna shook her head, “No, I love it! It’s like… it fits so much with Henry’s character, the gladiator I mean. He presents himself as this nobody that could be anybody, like Henry is just a faceless idea, but he stands for justice and integrity, which can speak to anyone.”

Elsa smiled, her heart fluttering from the feeling of being understood. “I’m glad you were able to see that. I think I’ll steal that explanation when the judges come over.”

“Fine, but if you win a ribbon then you’re buying me dinner. For believing in you and for being your muse.”

“Pssh, you are not my muse.” How in the world did Anna already know that?

Anna squeezed Elsa’s shoulders and smiled, her eyes seeing right past Elsa’s thin resistance. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Michaelangelo.”

The judges came around a few minutes later to ask her some questions and write notes on their clipboards. Anna wanted to talk her roommate up so badly but settled on providing moral support right next to Elsa as she answered the questions concisely and with the professionalism that got her into Douglas Academy in the first place.

She didn’t win a ribbon, but decided to take Anna out to dinner anyway.

December 26, 2019

“I think concrete should be your thing,” Anna said before taking another long sip of her hot chocolate.

“My thing?” Elsa asked.

“Yeah, like the thing that makes you stand out from everyone else. The thing you’re known for. Da Vinci had his inventions and paintings, Degas painted ballet dancers, you could be the concrete rose.”

Elsa chuckled, “Concrete rose? That sounds more like you than it sounds like me.”

Anna gasped, “Why Ms. Elsa, you best be careful or I might just take that as a compliment.”

“Uhh you should because it was.” Elsa gently kicked her foot forward to keep the front porch swinging. They drank their hot chocolates in silence, relishing in that post-Christmas bliss. Elsa’s family was always a little more dysfunctional around the holidays, but when Anna told her she’d be spending her Christmas in the dorms she knew that couldn’t happen. Her best friend deserved a real Christmas for the first time in forever.

When their mugs were empty, Anna spoke again, “Thank you for letting me come with you. I… maybe I would have felt a little lonelier this Christmas. And I’m happy that I’m not.”

“Anna, you’re my best friend- heck, you’re like the sister I never had. I can’t leave my sister hanging, you know?” The confession is so raw and unusual for Elsa that it doesn’t feel right coming from her lips at first, but the more this moment sat the better it felt.

She looked to Anna, her red cheeks were a sign that the cold was finally getting to her. “I had a lot of foster siblings growing up… none of them liked me all that much.”

“Well that’s their loss.”

“Thank you, Elsa. Really. Everything you do means a lot to me, I hope you know that.”

Elsa smiled and tapped her shoe against Anna’s, “Everything you do means a lot to me too.”

Anna brought the empty mug back to her lips. “So, if we’re sisters, does that mean I get to steal your clothes and burst into your room to tell you stupid nonsense?”

“You mean you don’t already do that now?” The force that Anna pushed her with almost sent Elsa off the porch swing.

October 21, 2020

Elsa and Anna complemented each other’s strengths in a way neither of them ever expected. The 3-D showcases happened four times a year, and Elsa entered every one of them with the support of Anna. There were also four major dance performances throughout the year, and Anna entered every one of them with Elsa’s support.

Anna had taken second place for interpretive dancing at the last competition, but Elsa was still looking for her first major win. She felt confident, however, in her entry for the upcoming showcase.

“I mean I love it of course, but it’s ambitious,” Anna said while looking over Elsa’s sketch. “How are you gonna carve out the bird and the cage at the same time?”

“I was thinking of making the cage and bird separate, and then putting them together,” Elsa answered. “If I get the dimensions right, I can hammer some nails underneath the cage so it stays put.”

“Hmm, alright well you sound like you know what you’re doing.” Anna handed back the sketch. “And I’m gonna support you a hundred percent. No matter what.”

“I know you will,” Elsa said while putting her arm around Anna’s shoulder. “… I think this is the one.”

“I think so too,” Anna said proudly. “And when you come back with a ribbon-”

“You’re buying me dinner.”

Anna gasped and wriggled out of her best friend’s arm, “Rude!”

Elsa rolled her eyes, “Oh please, half my budget is spent feeding you. I’m sure you can afford to buy me dinner one time.”

She saw the gears turning in Anna’s mind, trying to come up with a rebuttal, but in the end she groaned and said, “Fine, I’ll take your bum ass out for dinner, sis.”

Elsa worked harder than she ever had before, inspired once again from seeing Anna’s latest performance. It was a soliloquy in dance form, about a bird who’d spent their entire life on the move and in the hands of many owners, but never once being allowed out of its cage. It paralleled Anna’s life story: the foster child from New York who was only getting her first taste of freedom now. She paid special attention to the bird’s eyes, wanting them to emulate the longing and ambition she saw in her best friend.

The process resulted in a lot of tiny cuts and a couple of sleepless nights, but it was all worth it in the end. She won second place at the showcase.

True to her word, Anna took her out for dinner that very night on the condition that Elsa wear the obnoxiously huge, red ribbon. They had to stick it on her shirt with a safety pin. “Alright, where does Madame Second Place want to go for dinner?” Anna asked, dressed in an adorable skirt and blouse combo.

“I was kinda joking, you know?” Elsa said. “You don’t actually have to buy me dinner.”

“Oh please, you can’t get cold feet now. I mean you’re already wearing the ribbon, that’s like… I don’t know, it’s like when your high school prom date puts the corsage on you. It’s official, no backing out.”

Elsa raised an eyebrow, “What so you’re my prom date now?”

Anna pursed her lips, “Well maybe not for prom, it’s too late for that. But I’ll be your date if you want me to.”

That answer leaves Elsa speechless.

“Ooh, I know where we can go!” Anna added before Elsa could finish catching up to the millions of thoughts running through her mind. “There’s this really good Mexican place downtown. I heard they sell this burrito that’s the size of your forearm, and I have long forearms so I wanna see that. Sound good?”

Elsa blinked and said absently, “Yeah, let’s go.” They walked side by side to Anna’s car, all the while Elsa pretended she wasn’t seeing her best friend in a brand new light.

May 15, 2020

It’s a scary feeling to know that you’re in love with your best friend. Even scarier when you’ve considered them your sister for almost two years now. It’s like being strapped in to the world’s best roller coaster against your will. Sometimes it’s exhilarating and you think maybe this isn’t so bad, but most of the time you’re screaming and want to get off.

Elsa’s been on the same damn ride for months now and it hasn’t gotten any easier. But she’s accepted it, which is something she never expected.

All of Anna’s errant touches, her smiles and glances, and even just the way she says “we”… Elsa has second-guessed each and every single one of her behaviors. And yes, she would probably stop overthinking if she’d just talk to Anna but she doesn’t know how. It’s hard enough trying to have a regular conversation with her now, it’s nearly impossible approaching her with a talk about their feelings.

And even so, she’s accepted the fact that she’s fallen in love with her best friend. For the past two years, they’ve been nearly inseparable, there’s no one in the world she knows better or cares about more than Anna. Falling in love with her felt almost inevitable.

But did Anna feel the same way? Well, she’d find out soon.

For the last 3-D showcase of their second year, Elsa had been working on a particularly special project. It didn’t have to do specifically with Anna’s last performance, but it was dedicated to her nonetheless.

Rising from a slab of concrete, she sculpted out a finely detailed rose, complete with a realistic crack where the stem breaks out and defined petals spiraling into the rosebud. It represented Anna’s ability to grow and flourish from a life of a constantly uncertain home life and rough nights on the streets.

At the base of the concrete slab, she wrote ‘For Anna, for everything’. When Anna notices the inscription, that’s when Elsa would tell her how she feels.

She shut herself out from the world for a particularly long time; Anna only saw her when they were walking to classes together, and even then Elsa remained tight-lipped so as to not spoil the surprise. Her patience had to be rewarded, she figured, or else this would have all been for nothing.

When the showcase finally arrived, Elsa waited anxiously for Anna to show up. She said she would be running late because she needed to meet someone, but that was fine because it gave Elsa more time to figure out what she’d say to the judges. Which in turn helped keep her from pacing around the showcase floor like a lonely, lovesick puppy.

When the judges came, she defended the lack of complex expression and vibrancy of her piece by quoting Henry David Thoreau’s opinion on simplicity. And she covered the etching with her hand because that was one question she’d rather not answer just yet. At least not to them. The judges looked impressed with her answers and one of them even mentioned that she had a knack for giving life to her sculptures. The high from that compliment should have lasted her throughout the entire day, but it was shot down almost immediately.

When the judges left, she saw Anna walking towards her. But she wasn’t alone, she was with a guy.

And they were holding hands.

“I’m so sorry I’m late, I was waiting for this guy to get his fucking shoes on.” Anna patted the guy’s chest with a coy smile. He was tall, proper, and with fashionably thick sideburns. The way he wore his t-shirt and jeans looked awkward, as if he was ripped straight from a 19th century portrait and was forced to wear modern clothes to blend in.

“Hey in my defense, I didn’t know I was going to the showcase until you texted me like half an hour ago,” he said while wrapping her arm around Anna’s shoulders.

“Lies. And propaganda.” Anna turned to Elsa with a softer smile on her lips, which was just another hit to Elsa’s already bruising heart. “Again, I’m sorry I was late but I figured it was time for you two to meet. Elsa, this is Hans. We’ve been dating for a month now.”

A month?

A… a month.

Elsa’s doing her best to remain polite and cordial, but it’s hard when her entire body feels like it’s crumbling onto the floor. She extends a hand out anyway, wincing when Hans takes it with more strength than she’s expecting. “It-It’s nice to meet you, Hans. Anna’s lucky to have you around.” The words come out of her mouth like a rejected poison.

Anna talked some more, so did Hans, and maybe Elsa nodded and smiled when she needed to, but for the life of her she couldn’t tell you what the hell they talked about. When it came time for the… couple to examine Elsa’s sculpture, Anna beamed at her with that same pride that was on her face since day one and Hans said she did a good job. Elsa kept her hand over the inscription the entire time.

She won another second place ribbon. When Anna noticed the inscription, Elsa said it was a thank you for being a wonderful friend. Each word felt like pulling teeth.

September 4, 2020

They met at the campus coffee shop while Elsa was isolating herself. Ironically, Anna was going there to get a hot chocolate to surprise Elsa.

She brought Anna and Hans together.

It was a very lonely summer for Elsa. Since Hans lived in New Jersey, it wasn’t that hard for him to visit Anna whenever he wanted, which is exactly what he did. They spent almost every moment of the summer together, and while Elsa pretended to be happy with getting texts, the occasional phone call, and a surprise weekend visit from her best friend, none of it could stop the constant ache in her heart.

Move-in day for their third year was especially brutal, she unpacked absentmindedly while listening to Anna and Hans joke around and kiss when they thought she wasn’t looking. She tried all summer to let go of the feelings for Anna and to just be happy for her, but it felt like the more she tried, the more she held on.

“Alright, that’s the last box.” Anna wiped her hands on her jeans and looked at Elsa and then at Hans. “Let me just change out of this gross, sweaty shirt and we can get something to eat?”

“Of course, babe.” Hans kissed her and walked out of the girls’ dorm, Elsa finally let go of the breath she’d held since they started moving their stuff in.

“You’re coming with us, right?” Anna asked.

Elsa wasn’t expecting her to to talk to her, and she had to take a second for her mouth to catch up with her mind. “Uh no that’s okay,” she finally replied. “You two enjoy yourself, I want to unpack all of my stuff before I eat.”

Anna raised an eyebrow, “Are you sure? If you’re worried about being a third wheel, trust me it’s not gonna be like that.”

Elsa tapped her fingers on the stacked boxes in front of her. “No, I’m just not hungry yet. That’s all.”

“Well… alright, but I’ll bring you back some food and I won’t take no for an answer.” Anna peeled off her shirt and disappeared in her room to find a new one. From somewhere inside the room, she added, “We’ll hang out sometime soon okay? Just the two of us.”

October 1, 2020

'Sometime soon’ turned out to be nearly a month later. It wasn’t for lack of trying, but with the third year at Douglas being notoriously difficult, they needed to spend a little more time adjusting to the bigger workload and busier schedules. And any free time Anna did have was taken up by Hans…

Elsa continued to pretend to be okay, and she actually relished how busy their third year was going to be because it gave her something else to think about. A six-page essay on contour ate up time she was going to spend thinking about the sexual innuendo Hans was 'accidentally’ adding to him and Anna’s conversations.

The busy times couldn’t last forever, though, and Anna and Elsa finally found some time to spend together- just the two of them- one night on top of one of Douglas’ parking garages. It was a place they’d gone to many times just to get away from the staunch air of pressure and competition in every corner of every building underneath them. This was a place for them to breathe, a home away from a home away from home.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around as much lately,” Anna said, breaking the silence from their lack of conversation. “It’s just that this is the first relationship I’ve been in and… I don’t know, it’s exciting and new. Not that things aren’t like that with you, it’s just-”

“Anna, you don’t have to apologize. Whatever time I get to spend with you is just fine.” Elsa bites her tongue before she can say that she still wishes she had more time with Anna.

“I just don’t want you to feel like I’m neglecting you, that’s all.”

“Well, you’re not, so it’s okay. I’m okay.”

“Okay…” Anna scooted closer to her, their bare elbows touching made the nerves in Elsa’s arm tingle and send shockwaves through her entire body. “Sooooo, you want to know what I’m doing for my next performance? You know, so you can start figuring out what you’re gonna do for the showcase.”

Elsa looked away, “I don't… I think I’m gonna skip the showcase this time.” She wanted to say she was going to skip the showcase this year, but that would have set off too many alarms in Anna’s head. She could deal with the one alarm she saw going off behind her best friend’s eyes.

“How come?” she asked.

“It just looks like it’s gonna be a real busy year, and I think I need to focus on getting through it. Once I can do that, then I can start thinking about sculpting again.”

“I… see.” Anna looked out across the campus. “And that’s the only reason?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?” Elsa wondered if there was something she said, or some visible part of her full of pain that she’d forgotten to cover up.

Anna shrugged, “No reason. Just wondering.”

Elsa didn’t have it in her to pry, so she also went back to looking at the buzzing nightlife of Douglas Academy. With luck, they wouldn’t have to address this ever again.

November 30, 2020

Luck remained on Elsa’s side for nearly two months, and then they returned from Thanksgiving Break. Anna had declined her invitation to spend Thanksgiving with her, and instead she spent it with Hans’ family. Who, as it turned out, was exceptionally rich.

Anna spent a good hour gushing over their massive house with the hot tubs (plural) and rooms as big as their whole dorm, and then talked about all the people that were there for Thanksgiving dinner and how amazing the food was. Knowing Anna’s struggles, Elsa tried to remain supportive while she gushed over Hans and his family and his really nice house. And then she said something that should have remained a thought.

“Sounds like you dodged a bullet not joining me for Thanksgiving.”

Anna pounced on that out-of-character remark immediately. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Gosh, what could she say that wouldn’t sound passive-aggressive? Elsa decided on, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by that. I’m really glad you had a good time on break.”

For a second, that looked like it would work. And then Anna closed her eyes and sighed, “Oh god… you don’t like Hans.”

Elsa didn’t say anything, which is the worst thing she could have said.

“Elsa, we’ve been going out for months now. Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I…I guess I…”

Anna sighed and waved her hand, “Never mind, I guess it doesn’t matter. Look, I like you both so I don’t want things to feel awkward or whatever. What can I do to help? I want you to like Hans so that things don’t suck between us.”

There’s nothing Anna needed to do, this was a problem that Elsa had to deal with on her own. That’s what she wanted to say to her best friend. But instead, there was another disconnect between her brain and her mouth and she said something that was bound to make things worse, “You don’t even know why I don’t like him.”

Anna nodded, “You’re right. So why don't you like him?”

Elsa wrung her hands together, “Anna, we shouldn’t talk about this.”

“What? But you’re the one that brought it up.”

“I know, but it’s just not… this won’t end well.”

“Is this one of those things where the protective older sister hates every guy her sister dates and thinks that no one’s good enough for her?”

“No,” Elsa replied. And under her breath, she muttered, “I wish.”

“Elsa, we’re the only two people in your room. I heard that.” She scooted across the bed to get closer to Elsa, their fingers nearly touching were enough for Elsa to feel like her arm was on fire. “Just… tell me what’s wrong. Please?”

Though it felt like the wrong thing to do, Elsa pulled her hand away. “I don’t know if I can,” she replied. “Can we drop it please? For now?”

“… okay.”

December 13, 2020

This was the longest time Elsa and Anna had gone without talking to each other. Sure, they were polite and fake when Hans was hanging out in their dorm, and they still said good morning and whatnot to each other, but they hadn’t made an effort to really talk to each other in two weeks.

Knowing this was her fault, Elsa set out to craft an apology to Anna. After deciding on recreating the canary she made her during their first year, this time in concrete, she went to work quickly on creating the mesh outline for it. One night, during this process, she heard a knock on her door. A knock that could only belong to one person.

She took a deep breath and then opened her door. “Hey Anna,” she said far too generically.

“Do you love me?”

Elsa tensed up so much she almost tore her doorknob off. Any answer would have been a good one, but instead she remained frozen in silence.

“Hans and I had a fight and he said…well I mean he thought that… areyou in love with me?”

Still as a statue, much like the concrete rose Anna’s holding in her hand, Elsa somehow found her voice long enough to say, “Anna, I didn't…”

Anna nodded, and in the darkness of their shared loft Elsa could finally see that her best friend had been crying recently. “I should have known. I’m sorry.” She walked away, pressing the concrete rose closer to her chest, and disappeared into her room.

January 20, 2021

Though their relationship had hit an all-time low, Elsa felt it was wrong not going to Anna’s performance. She still very much wanted to support her best friend even if they still weren’t talking all that much. But Anna smiled at her the other day and that… gave Elsa hope somehow? Either way, it was enough to get her to stop being a coward and show up to the performance.

She arrived at the auditorium just in time to see Anna walk on to the stage, but not with enough time to find a seat. So she stood by the entrance awkwardly as the music began playing through the speakers. What conspired for the next five minutes was the most poignant expression of heartbreak and longing that Elsa had ever seen in dance form.

It started off as a simple ballroom dance, and though Anna had no partner you wouldn’t realize it in the way she moved. But her mystery partner continued to pull away no matter how many times Anna chased after them. When the partner disappeared, Anna continued to dance alone and while her moves were perfect and calculated, she let her posture slump with every break in the song. By the end, she’s nearly dragging herself along the floor hoping to make it to the end of the song, all the while reaching out for someone. Something. The song ends with her laying on the floor breathing heavily and the audience erupting in applause.

And for the first time in a very long time, Elsa felt a jolt of inspiration.

February 15, 2021

Elsa sat by the base of her sculpture. The judges had come to talk to her long ago and spectators were slowly trickling out of the building, but she couldn’t leave yet. In fact, she’d wait all night long for Anna if she had to. The note she left underneath Anna’s door even said so.

This had to be the fastest yet most detailed sculpture she’d ever created and there were no doubts as to what inspired her. Time continued to tick away, and Elsa continued to sit.

Finally, after an eternity, she saw the familiar silhouette of her best friend walking through the door. She was wearing the same skirt and blouse that made Elsa fall in love with her in the first place.

Quietly, Anna closed the gap until they were a couple of feet apart. “I got your note,” she said softly.

Elsa nodded, “I watched your performance.”

“Oh, I… I’m sorry. I didn’t see you.”

“I was in the back of the auditorium. But it was beautiful, I’ve never seen anyone move like you do. I’ve never seen anyone express heartbreak like you did.” Elsa wrung her hands together, “I’m sorry if this is inappropriate, but did you and Hans…”

Anna nodded, “A couple of months ago, actually. But my performance, it… wasn’t about him.”

“It wasn’t?”

“No, it…” Anna took her first glimpse at Elsa’s sculpture and it completely threw her off. “Oh my god.”

Immortalized in concrete was Anna in a stunning ball gown, her face content while she swayed in the arms of her dance partner. Except unlike the gladiator sculpture, Anna’s partner was completely visible.

And it was Elsa.

“I know it’s a little forward, but it didn’t feel right having you dance alone,” Elsa replied. And with much less confidence, she added, “Is that okay?”

Anna looked at her, confusion settled on her face. But then that confusion chipped away slowly but surely until a beautiful smile was seen in its place. “It’s perfect,” Anna replied, “Y-you did it again.”

Elsa blushed, “Well, I do have a pretty wonderful muse.”

“Well, I think that muse owes you dinner. What do you say?” Anna reached out her hand, eyes telling her that this was what she wanted.

“She doesn’t owe me anything.” Elsa took her hand and a lovely, warm feeling enveloped her. “But I’d be glad to go with her.”

Anna squeezed her hand and said, “Then it’s a date.”

Elsa’s sculpture won first place that day.

#elsanna #submission #august 2021 contest #prompt: flowers

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theydontknowaboutusimagines · 4 years ago

Text

This Christmas - A Harry Styles Christmas Series (Part 8)

Two life long friends. Secretly in love. Home for the holidays. Will they risk everything by telling the other how they feel? Or will they spend another year loving from afar?

Read these first

Prologue Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

The next morning you woke up with the sun blaring through the window and your head feeling like a heavy paperweight. You looked over, seeing and hearing a sleeping Harry. He was the only person you knew who snored like that while sleeping on their stomach. You giggled softly before rolling over onto his back.

He let out a humpfh sound before going back to sleep.

“Haarrryyy,” you whispered into his ear.

Nothing.

“Harry, wake up,” you whispered again.

Again nothing.

You smirked getting an idea before bouncing up and down, “Harry, wake up.”

“Seriously?” He groaned, reaching back for you.

You giggled, “Yay, you’re up.”

“And you need a mint,” he joked, pushing your head away.

“I don’t doubt that,” you said. “I got pretty bad last night.”

“I’ve seen worse,” he said.

You sighed laying back down beside him.

“Hey,” he said, placing his hand on top of yours. “Are we… okay?”

You nodded,”Yeah, we are,” you smiled.

“Good,” he smiled, kissing the top of your head. “So, how do you feel about going out for breakfast?”

“I’d love to, but I need to get some writing done,” you sighed.

“But you have to eat,” he said. “And you’re hungover, so how much writing will you actually be getting done.”

“You’re a bad influence, Styles,” you pointed at him.

“So, I take that is a yes on getting breakfast?” He smirked.

“Yes,” you laughed.

After a hot shower, a change of clothes, and popping some aspirin, you two were walking your way to the cafe down the street. Harry smirked, grabbing your hand as you were walking. You smiled, picking your hands up and wrapping his arm around your shoulder. He laughed, leaning down to kiss you.

“Thank god you brushed your teeth,” he smirked.

“Fuck you,” you laughed, pushing him away, while you walked forward.

“Aw come on, babe,” he laughed, running after you.

You smirked as you picked up your pace.

“Oh, so it’s going to be like that, huh?” Harry laughed.

Next thing you knew you felt arms around you and a huge weight jumping onto your back.

“Bloody hell are you trying to kill me?” You groaned.

“Nope,” Harry smirked, popping the p.

You rolled your eyes as you walked forward trying to carry Harry to the cafe. When you got there, you pushed him off of you.

“I expect a massage later,” you told him.

“Gladly,” he smirked.

The two of you walked into the cafe and you smiled at the decorations.

“I love that they still decorate like this,” you said. “I remember when I was little I thought this was the North Pole.”

“Well, you were a weird one,” Harry said.

“Remind me why I agreed to this breakfast?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Because you love me and want to spend time with me,” he said, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

“Or it’s because you promised me free food,” you smirked.

“I wouldn’t put it past you,” he laughed.

You giggled kissing his cheek before sitting down at the table. You looked over the menu, ordering the same thing you’ve been ordering since you were little.

“We need to do something Christmassy,” you said. “It’s almost Christmas and I feel like we haven’t done much.”

“Well, what do you want to do?” He asked.

“Hm, I don’t know,” you said. “Why don’t you surprise me.”

“Challenge accepted,” he smiled.

Once you two were finished eating, you grabbed some hot chocolate to go. Instead of going back home, you two went to the local park for a walk. You smiled wrapping your arm around his waist as the two of you walked through the trail.

“So, I have a confession to make,” you said.

“Uh-oh,” he said. “Do I need to sit down for this?”

“No,” you laughed. “Do you remember when you mentioned how the main love interests reminded you… of well… you?”

“Yeah,” he said, looking at you.

“Weeellll,” you said. “You’re not exactly wrong with that.”

“I knew it!” He pointed at you. “I fucking knew it!”

“Yes, yes, you were right,” you rolled your eyes. “Are you mad?”

“What? No,” he said. “But I am a little worried about having to live up to those expectations,” he laughed.”

“There are no expectations,” you smiled. “Because nothing else could live up to having the real thing.”

“Sooooo, what you’re saying is, is you prefer me,” he smirked.

“I do,” you smiled.

Harry moved a strand of hair out of your face before leaning down to give you a kiss.

You stared at the page in front of you. Watching the cursor blink while you contemplated what to write next. You could picture it perfectly in your head but the words just weren’t coming out. Groaning you pushed yourself away from your desk, pacing around the tiny little space while you gathered your thoughts.

After about ten minutes, you finally felt some inspiration and the words were flowing out in buckets. You ended up finishing the chapter and quickly realized you had less than five chapters left in the book. You looked at the calendar and made a note to yourself to be finished by Christmas Eve. You could do it, you just might have some late nights ahead.

Speaking of late nights, you realized how dark it was outside and that your stomach was alerting you, you needed food. You shut your laptop, grabbed your coat, and walked towards the house. There weren’t many lights on when you walked inside, except for the kitchen.

“Hello?” You asked, looking around. “Is anyone here?”

“In here!” Harry called out from the pantry.

You giggled making your way over to him, standing in the doorway, “Um… hey, what are you doing?”

“I’m cooking dinner for us,” he smiled. “Mum went out with your Mum for dinner, so we have the house to ourselves.”

“Really?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Yep,” he smiled.

“Not sure if this is a good thing or bad thing,” you laughed.

“What do you mean?” He asked, pulling ingredients off the shelf.

“Because with your Mum and my Mum together, you do realize they’re going to be talking about us the entire, right?” You asked. “I’m pretty sure they’ve been planning our wedding for years.”

“Oh god, you’re right,” he groaned.

“Well, on the bright side, at least we can suffer together,” you giggled.

He laughed, “That is true.”

“So, do you need any help?” You asked.

“If you’re offering,” he smiled.

“Of course,” you said.

He smiled and handed you the vegetables to chop as he got everything else ready.

“Getting any writing done?” He asked.

“Took a little bit, but I did,” you smile. “I have only five chapters left to write!”

“That’s amazing,” he smiled. “When you finish, we’re going to celebrate.”

“And let me guess, by celebrate you mean let you read it?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to it,” he joked.

You rolled your eyes, “Again we’ll see.”

Once dinner was in your bellies and the dishes were in the dishwasher, the next activity was baking cookies.

“Is this part of your Christmas surprise?” You asked.

“Not necessarily,” he smirked. “I’ve got a bigger surprise for that.”

“Now, I’m intrigued,” you said. “Can I get a little more of a hint?”

“No, not going to happen,” he said.

“But why?” You whined.

“Because it wouldn’t be a surprise,” he said in a duhh tone.

“Oh… you mean like this,” you smirked, flicking flour in his face.

He gasped, looking over at you. “Excuse you.”

“Oops,” you said, innocently.

“Oh, oops my ass,” he said, taking a handful of flour and throwing it in your face.

You gasped looking over at him as you wiped flour off your face, “Oh, it’s so fucking on, now,” you said, grabbing whatever you could to throw at him.

“Shit,” he laughed, grabbing what was left and throwing it at you.

The next ten minutes is filled with shouts, squeals, and running around throwing various cookie ingredients at the other. Finally, you two declare a truce, when you notice the mess in the kitchen.

“Anne’s going to kill you,” you joked.

“Me? I didn’t throw the flour at myself!” He laughed.

“Yeah, but she likes me more than you,” you shrugged.

“I wish I could deny that, but unfortunately it’s true,” he sighed.

You giggled, “Why don’t we clean ourselves up first and then we’ll worry about the kitchen.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure there’s sprinkles in my ear,” he laughed.

The two of you headed up to the bathroom, where Harry got each of you a towel out of the linen closet.

“You can take a shower in this one and I’ll head to the other,” he said. “I can let you borrow some clothes, so you don’t have to go out just to change.”

“Or…” you said.

“Or what?” He asked.

“We could… um… share uh… bath or whatever,” you said.

Harry’s eyes widen at your proposal, “Uh…”

“Wow, um… yeah… let’s just forget I said anything. Totally stupid,” you said quickly.

“No, it’s not,” he said, taking your hand in his. “Are you sure… I don't want you to think…”

“We’re both grown adults,” you said. “As long as you’re okay with it, I’m okay with it.”

“Um… okay, I’ll start the water,” he said.

“Okay,” you nodded.

The next several minutes were filled with silence. It was a bit awkward at first, but it really came down to nervousness. Normally, you weren’t so bold and forth coming this early in a relationship, or whatever it was you and Harry were at the moment, but there was something about being with him that made you feel comfortable. And yes, you both agreed on taking things slow, but this felt… right. It felt natural.

You slipped off your clothes leaving them in a pile on the floor before getting into the tub. Neither one of you glanced at the other, not wanting to make the other feel uncomfortable. Whenever he was in the tub with you, you finally turned around to face him at the opposite end.

“This is nice,” He smiled. “It’s been ages since I’ve soaked in the tub.”

“Alone or with company?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Both,” he said.

“Hmm,” you said. “You should really do this more often. Soaking in hot water really relaxes me.”

“Alone or with company?” He mocked.

“Depends on who the company is,” you smirked.

He leaned over, sloshing water with his movements, reaching for your hand, “Well, I would hope from now on, I’d be the only one keeping you company,” he smirked.

“Hmm… I could definitely arrange that,” you giggled.

“Good,” he said, pulling you closer to him, a tug on his lips.

Lacing your finger with his, you looked up in his eyes, “Whenever I’m with you… it feels… I don’t know… it just feels like no time has passed, but then it also feels like so much time has passed.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” he whispered, looking down at you.

Your lips formed a smile as you placed your hands on his cheeks before pressing your lips against his. The kiss was gentle and sweet as his hands ran over your naked back. In that moment, you felt the most intimacy you’ve ever felt with anyone. Your heart was almost ready to burst out of your chest and you knew that there would no longer be anymore going slow because your heart was finally ready to open up to him.

Before anything got too hot and heavy, a step you two were more than wanting to take, but thought better of waiting, you both got out of the tub, drying off before getting dressed. After you two laid in his bed, wrapped in each other’s arms, fingers laced together. Neither of you really said anything, being there was enough. Christmas music played from Harry’s phone as he softly sang the lyrics to you.

You smiled, snuggling yourself closer to him. You were on the verge of falling asleep, but you ignored it, wanting to savor every second of this.

And when you two finally were ready to give into your heavy eyelids, you heard an angry voice call out, “HARRY EDWARD STYLES! YOU BETTER GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE!”

Both of you shot up in the bed looking at each other, “Shit! The Kitchen!”

Well, it was good while it lasted.

What are some Christmassy Activities/ things should they do? Let me know! :)

#Harry Styles Fanfictions #Harry Styles Imagines #Harry Styles Fan fics #Harry Styles Fanfiction #Harry Styles Fanfics #Harry Styles fan fiction #Harry Styles Christmas Series

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wintersilentdinners · 4 years ago

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Writerly Ephemera

Thank you so much for tagging me @amywaterwings I love all of your fics so much, and it was so cool to get to see the little pieces of you that ended up in them.

I could describe the challenge in my own words, but I think Amy put it so beautifully:

The idea (and I hope I understand it!) is Writerly Ephemera, which is a word for when we add little bits of ourselves to our writing, scattering memories and places and phrases and things into our stories. The game is to find five examples of this, of YOU, in your writing and show everyone.

This seemed impossible at first, but soon I had so many examples that it was difficult to pick! My 5 examples are below the cut!

1. In Simon and the Phantoms, there's a reference that hasn't come yet (you're getting a sneak peek!) that is so embarrassing. I was a huge One Direction fan growing up (ok, still am, ngl) and the best way I could think to describe an excited crowd was a 1D concert. People were always screeching, not just because the music was good (the attractive band members helped....)

We get to the instrumental break, and Baz picks up his violin again. He sounds incredible, as usual, and all the girls in the crowd scream like this is a fucking One Direction concert (although I have to admit that I see where they’re coming from).

2. In the sweetest con, the ice cream shop is based on the best ice cream experience I've ever had. My friend and I went to see our mutual friend's dance recital, but rather than go out with everyone afterwards, she took me to this ice cream stand on the side of the road. It was delicious, and the vibes were off the charts.

His ice cream shop is quite literally on the side of the road. It’s as though we’ve left the town altogether and ended up on some strange, way-back roads. The store itself is circular, with curved windows along the front. The white walls stand out in the darkness, as does the bright neon sign, which reads EBB’S ICE CREAM, topped with a picture of a banana split. Despite it being in the middle of nowhere, the parking lot is full. Teenagers are sprawled out in the grassy area surrounding the place, enjoying their dessert or just laying in the grass.

It also should be noted that my entire evermore series comes from my deep love for Taylor Swift. (and Dana's encouragement)

3. My Carry On Countdown Day 26 last year, Does he know you can move it like that?, is based on another One Direction song. (That's so embarrassing.) I'm a bit of a wild dancer. I just kinda flail around and my body takes over. It's not good, but it's entertaining. The basis of the One Direction song "Does he know" is does your boyfriend know you're such a sexy dancer, but I thought oh gosh if that happened to me it'd be 'does he know you are such a wacky dancer. I decided Simon dances the same way.

That’s when I see it. A flash of golden hair, oscillating wildly on the dance floor. The mob spreads out, and suddenly the wild dancer is in the center. I can just about see them from where I’m leaning against the bar. They’re doing this weird motion with their arms where they criss cross them in and out, making an x to the beat, and their legs have a mind of their own. Half jumping, half shuffling, it seems they’ll go wherever the beat takes them. I’m surprisingly envious of this person. I wish I had their ease, their comfort in their own skin. They look ridiculous, sure, but they also look like they’re having fun. Somewhere deep down in my cold heart, I love having fun. As the song ends, the crowd starts cheering, and the mystery dancer turns my way. That’s when I get a good glimpse of them. Golden curls, moles I can spot from here, a ragged old t-shirt and jeans. Simon fucking Snow. I need to get out of this bar.

4. Another Carry On Countdown, Day 28, keep shining on. My most favorite Christmas tradition is driving around neighborhoods with my mom, looking at other people's light displays. We always get hot chocolate and listen to music, and it just feels so magical. On top of that, "Christmas Lights" by Coldplay has always been one of my favorite songs ever. I was a dramatic kid, so it appealed to me so much.

If we drive around for one more minute, I think I might be sick. “Remind me why we’re driving in circles right now when I could be in my pyjamas,” I grumble. “I’ve almost found the house, I promise!” Shepard calls from the front seat. “This better be worth it.” Simon takes my hand and scoots to the middle of the backseat. “Besides, it’s Christmas Eve Eve Eve , Baz. You have to get in the spirit!” he says. I just roll my eyes, pressing my face to the cool window. I have to admit, the houses are really pretty. It feels like every house on this street is lit up brightly with gaudy Christmas lights. There are blow-up snowmen and Father Christmases on roofs. It’s almost comforting.

5. I gave Baz my Fleetwood Mac obsession in Sing Me to Sleep. Like me, Baz gets it from his mother. I always loved "Landslide" as a kid because my mom would play it just for me in the car. She'd cry when she sang, but I never knew why. Now, I know what it's like to connect to the song as you grow older. I made Simon defend "Silver Springs" because it is one of their best songs. Both of these songs would be played from her CD of The Dance, which was a live recording of the band in the 90s.

Then I started listening to The Dance, my comfort album. It reminds me of driving in the car with my mother before she passed. She would always cry to “Landslide,” but neither of us ever acknowledged it. Now Snow is in my apartment, mentioning how he loves Fleetwood Mac and defending the honor of “Silver Springs.” I’m not quite sure what to do with myself, if I’m honest. I keep going back and forth between loathing and something weirdly close to yearning.

THAT GOT TO BE SO LONG! Sorry!! I just love telling stories. I'd love to see your examples, if you're comfortable sharing! I'll tag just a few: @snowybank @seducing-a-vampire @ninemagicks @aristocratic-otter @palimpsessed and anyone else who feels inspired :)

#tag games #my writing #it me

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thesunnyshow · 4 years ago

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Name: Ezralia Vali, but all my friends call me Elv

Writing Blog URL(s): @ezralia-writes (@haylo4ever was my OG writing account 5 years ago)

Age: 19

Nationality: Asian American

Languages: English and un poco Espanol

Star Sign: Aries

MBTI: INFJ

Favorite color: As of now, red

Favorite food: Pasta

Favorite movie: The Golden Compass, but Howl’s Moving Castle and The Girl Who Leapt Through Time are close choices too

Favorite ice cream flavor: Vanilla with chocolate syrup or caramel

Favorite animal: Narwhals

Go-to karaoke song: Uh, Who Do You Love (Monsta X)

Dream job (whether you have a job or not): TBH, my dream job is being a manager/CEO of a tech job (realistically) or a backup dancer for kpop groups (unrealistically)

Coffee or tea? What are you ordering? Neither, hot coco (coffee in the future to keep me sane)

If you could have one superpower, what would you choose? Mind-read

If you could visit a historical era, which would you choose? Sengoku Japanese period or in England when kings and queens were bloody powerful

If you could restart your life, knowing what you do now, would you? Yes

Would you rather fight 100 chicken-sized horses or one horse-sized chicken? 100 chicken-sized horses

If you were a trope in a teen high school movie, what would you have been? Please, I wanna be in the nerdy girl and jock romance but honestly, I’m probably just the side, hermit character.

Do you believe in aliens/supernatural creatures? Yes but I know they don’t exist

Fun fact about yourself that not everyone would know? Uh, I talk a lot about myself but I have trypophobia - there should not be holes in things that are supposed to be whole.

What fandom(s) do you write for? As of now, I write for BTS, GOT7, NCT, Monsta X, and Stray Kids

When did you post your first piece? May 26, 2020 (Dec 7, 2014 was my OG post on ff.net haha)

Do you write fluff/angst/crack/general/smut, combo, etc? Why? I write fluff, angst (lots), and sometimes crack. While I can rec some awesome smuts, I don’t feel comfortable writing explicit smut as of yet, although I will elude to some smexy time. I do have a WIP that I will one day write that will definitely include smut because it’s part of the story.

Do you write OCs, X Readers, Ships...etc? I have some OG OCs and my starter fics on Tumblr were third-person female reader. However, recent works include x you (reader) and I find that really fun and easier to write! I don’t really write any ships for Kpop.

Why did you decide to write for Tumblr? Having read so many awesome works on Tumblr made me want to write and hopefully have other readers experience the same feelings I do when I read that great piece. However, my original goal was just to write for Monsta X since there aren’t a whole lot of fics for them but also because I have too many ideas running in my mind. Lastly, I just write for myself.

What inspires you to write? The groups I write for, other things I read (like mangas and/or shows), and especially songs!

What genres/AUs do you enjoy writing the most? I write best fluff for established relationships because otherwise it’s all just angst, which is a lot of fun to write while keeping it not too toxic unless stated otherwise for plot. I also love silly fics for giggles. As for Au’s I enjoy regular day to day life with a spin or fantasy based Au’s.

What do you hope your readers take away from your work? I hope they just feel a strong emotion - depending on the genre. I hope that they get to the end and find all the nuances I try to sprinkle throughout the story hinting to clues or plot devices. That’s always what I try to aim for.

What do you do when you hit a rough spot creatively? Cry. Jokes aside, I take a break/breather to refocus and take time for myself. I also read professional works to take my mind off things or get inspired.

What is your favorite work and why? Your most successful? My personal favorite of my published works would be my Han Jisung x reader, Promise. It was my first kpop fic and a gift to my friend. I think it’s a hallmark of my return to writing and I look forward to publishing more of my favorite plots! My most successful is Spiderling, a Jeon Jungkook x reader fic, not surprised at all that my first official BTS fic would be the most popular one of my current works haha.

Who is your favorite person to write about? Honestly, I have so many ideas for Changkyun haha. I feel like he’s totally boyfriend material and can fit different roles from a total fratboy to a soft boyfriend. But I’m trying to expand both my writing and pairings and it’s a fun challenge to write for the different boys.

Do you think there’s a difference between writing fanfiction vs. completely original prose? I actually do! In my honest opinion, fanfiction is work about an already established character/person/universe. It’s easier for me to think up ideas for characters already prepped because I personally get lost in the details already of thinking up terms/universes to place the story in. I have a character that’s already established and people know about without having to elaborate on those finer details.

What do you think makes a good story? Proper formatting goes a long way. While I don’t judge on grammar and spelling mistakes, it is a much smoother read if people follow basic narrative-writing skills. I feel like anyone who can embody their own style and ideas (without being discriminatory or mean), then they’ve really got me hooked.

What is your writing process like? A mess. I know a lot of people outline, and I try that sometimes. But, normally I just get straight into writing what I’ve brainstormed, maybe adding some notes for future events here and there. If I get tied up at a certain part, I make a messy line break and start another scene.

Would you ever repurpose a fic into a completely original story? Yes. Funnily enough though, I repurpose my original storylines for fics, but if I could, I would write an original story.

What tropes do you love, and what tropes can’t you stand? I can’t stand cliches but I WILL cry over them if they’re well-written and/or have a spin on them. So, ultimately I’m down for anything. Enemy to lovers isn’t always my favorite but @gukyi does a great job, since that’s her renowned trope.

How much would you say audience feedback/engagement means to you? A lot! I have a few lovely mootz that always have something nice to say, but I would love more reader interaction! Of course, I’m a newer writer and haven’t blown up so it is to be expected that I’m a little lonely right now. I hope that’s not a long-term thing.

What has been one of the biggest factors of your success (of any size)? Who I write for. I hate to be blunt about it, but certain members and/or groups truly are more popular which is a shame at times. Plus, interacting with more mootz and authors as well as joining discord chats and networks helps by meeting new people who will interact with you and your content.

Do you think fanfic writers get unfairly judged? Yes, at times and with certain topics. We all know people will go on anon and tear anyone down for whatever reason.

Do you think art can be a medium for change? Definitely! Writing for the public,(especially fanfic and reader-based fics) especially in these times, means you have to adapt and adhere to the ever-changing times. We have a role to play in how people perceive things, whether that’s regarding an IRL person or how we view others with representation.

Do you ever feel there are times when you’re writing for others, rather than yourself? Huh, as of now, I feel like I’m writing for myself. Without a lot of interaction, I don’t feel pressure. I do want to write for other groups, but as of now I’m trying to pick up speed with certain groups. I have a lot of WIPs, so we will see where I end up.

Do you ever feel like people have misunderstood you or your writing at times? Not that I know of, haha.

Do your offline friends/loved ones know you write for Tumblr? No, haha.

What is one thing you wish you could tell your followers? I love you!

Do you have any advice for aspiring writers who might be too scared to put themselves out there? Don’t be afraid! It’s scary, but the worst that can happen is not writing!

Are there any times when you regret joining Tumblr? HAahaha, only because the site’s interaction roles have drastically dropped and a lot of the features suck. But the people I’ve met… priceless. I love them all and a lot have impacted my life so positively.

Do you have any mutuals who have been particularly formative/supportive in your Tumblr journey? Yes! All of them!

Pick a quote to end your interview with:

Stan yourself first! <3

#@ezralia-writes #@haylo4ever #thesunnyshow #featured author #episode 42 #bts #got7 #nct #monsta x #stray kids

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inthewild-flowers · 5 years ago

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fic masterlist!

This is a masterlist of all my fics. Most of them can be found on AO3, although there is a Tumblr Drabble section at the end.

I’ll be updating this every time I post a new fic/finish posting a multi chapter fic. Enjoy!

Oneshots

Weak In The Knees

Rating: General Audiences

Ship(s): Remus Lupin/Sirius Black

Word Count: 575

Summary: Kind of just a whole lot of Wolfstar fluff. There's dancing involved.

Other: Maybe a muggle au?? I’m not entirely sure tbh, pretty cute if I do say so myself, the title comes from the Serena Ryder song weak in the knees.

Bright Yellow Ducks

Rating: General Audiences

Ship(s): James Potter/Lily Evans, background Sirius Black/Remus Lupin

Word Count: 2114

Summary: Lily works at a corner store, and one day the Marauders walk in on a quest for ice cream.

Other: Muggle au, I’m pretty sure it was based on a post I saw but I wrote it a few years ago so I’m honestly not sure

Earth Angel

Rating: General Audiences

Ship(s): Sirius Black/Remus Lupin

Word Count: 674

Summary: I love fics where Remus is just an absolute angel, so here’s my version of that. Sirius has a crush on the cute guy who works at the bakery in his neighbourhood and finally get a chance to talk to him.

Other: Remus works at a bakery au, I wrote this after reading The London Underground Book Of Love by Children_of_the_Shadows on AO3 (absolutely would recommend, it’s amazing) and it’s probably one of my favourite fics I’ve written, the title is from the song Earth Angel by The Penguins

Gilderoy Lockhart Is A Dick (But His Dickery Has Some Interesting Consequences)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Ship(s): Remus Lupin/Sirius Black, background James Potter/Lily Evans

Word Count: 2699

Summary: When Remus finds out Gilderoy is cheating on him, the next thing he has to do is find out who he's cheating with. And if that person happens to be Sirius Black, well, Remus is okay with that. Based off of the joke me and my sister have about Legend of Korra: both of Mako's girlfriends leave him for each other.

Other: Muggle au, funny, crack fic, way more sex jokes than I usually write but it fits with the whole vibe of this fic

Text Me

Rating: General Audiences

Ship(s): Remus Lupin/Sirius Black

Word Count: 566

Summary: Written for girlwithacrown’s finish this fic challenge. My take on the second half of “Remus is a bookstore owner and Sirius comes in looking for a book during coronavirus lockdown” (might wanna read her first half tho lol).

Other: Here is @girlwithacrown ‘s first half of the fic, and here is her collection with the other fics that people wrote for their own versions of the second half!

Padfoot Won’t Leave

Rating: General Audiences

Ship(s): Remus Lupin/Sirius Black

Word Count: 2453

Summary: At the end of Harry's third year, Remus and Sirius have a plan to get Harry away from the Dursleys.

Other: crack fic, I tried my best to make it funny, someone sent a post to the wolf star games 2020 discord that said that there aren't enough “Sirius makes himself at home at the Dursley’s house because there’s nothing they can do to make him leave” fics and then we as a group decided to fix that. Here’s the collection of fics we wrote for it! :)

Rooftop Ramblings

Rating: General Audiences

Ship(s): Aziraphale/Crowley

Word Count: 526

Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley share a cigarette on a rooftop, and wish that things could be different.

Other: pining, the whole plot is literally just pining, written for a dtiys based on this art by @whiteleyfoster

yoga (sirius’s way)

Rating: General Audiences

Ship(s): Remus/Sirius

Word Count: 1043

Summary: Remus decides to start doing yoga to get some exercise during quarantine, and naturally, Sirius wants to try as well.

Other: Quarantine fic!!, domestic fluff, inspired by this art by @gaeilgelupin

two bros, going on a brocation, five feet apart cause they’re not gay

Rating: General Audiences

Ship(s): Remus/Sirius

Word Count: 1927

Summary: In which Sirius takes Remus on a surprise Christmas vacation

Other: Christmas fic!!, so much fluff, :))

🎶 Remus is a swearwolf 🎶

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Ship(s): Remus/Sirius, James/Lily/Regulus

Word Count: 2694

Summary: Regulus sighed. “Come on, Sirius, let’s get you off this thing and then you’ll feel better.” They pried Sirius’s hands off the bar and helped him out of the rollercoaster, where he stood for a moment on shaky legs, clutching Regulus’s arm.“I’m going to get some mint chocolate,” he declared once his legs had regained some of their strength, “and then we’re going to the haunted house and I’m getting my revenge.”

Other: A sequel to ice ice baby by @pan-and-ready-to-stan, 90% banter, a LOT of swearing, fluff

would it kill you if we kissed

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Ship(s): Remus/Sirius

Word Count: 1741

Summary: Sirius leaned his head against the window and let his eyes flutter shut. Maybe if he slept, some of the horrible things would go away. Maybe if he slept, he would wake up to find that he was just on a normal road trip with one of his best friends. Maybe if he slept, he could forget the reason he was here at all.

Other: hurt/comfort, and also getting together!! bc I love get together fics :)

(i thought) i knew you

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Ship(s): Remus/Sirius

Word Count: 1432

Summary: Sometimes Sirius thinks that he might be okay. That maybe he’ll make it through this. He’s broken up with people before, hasn’t he? He’s been heartbroken before, and he’s always made it through. He’s survived so many things in his life that it seems silly that this would be the thing to break him.

Other: oh boy is there angst, that’s it that’s the fic just angst, there is a hopeful ending though??, there’s some super vague sort of references to self harm but it doesn’t like. happen

Got It

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Ship(s): Remus/Sirius

Word Count: 2859

Summary: Remus pushed down the butterflies in his stomach and accepted the vape when Sirius offered it, inhaling deeply and pointedly not thinking about how Sirius’s lips had been there just moments before. This was the closest Remus would ever get to kissing him. No, he told himself sternly, don’t think about that. It didn’t work. It never did.

Other: texting, fluff fluff fluffity fluff, getting together, written for marauders pride fanzine

in a cottage on a cliffside

Rating: General Audiences

Ship(s): Remus Lupin/Sirius Black

Word Count: 2865

Summary: “Are you cold?” Remus asked. “I’ve got another blanket somewhere…” he trailed off, looking at Sirius expectantly. Sirius shook his head.

“I’m fine.” he smiled again, then took another sip of his tea. He made the same face as before. It was adorable.

“Why are you here?” Remus asked. Sirius blinked at him.

“I wanted to see you.

Other: this was a birthday present for a friend, its fluff and a bit of pining and just generally soft :)) also a get together fic

The Year Remus Lupin Made Friends

Rating: General Audiences

Ship(s): Remus Lupin/Sirius Black

Word Count: 3546

Summary: James was sixteen years old, and it was summertime. Sirius and Pete were staying with him, Pete for a week, Sirius for the whole summer and hopefully every holiday after it too. James wanted to play quidditch, but the risk of being seen by muggles was too high, and his parents wouldn’t allow it. James was also very stubborn. His parents should have known to keep a closer eye on the boys, but some things can’t be helped. Here is what happened:

Other: written for a discord server secret santa. very marauders friendship focused, but also wolfstar at the end :))

In the dark and in the dusty sunlight

Rating: General Audiences

Ship(s): Sirius Black/Remus Lupin

Word Count: 1099

Summary: “I thought we were past such formalities, Lord Lupin.”“Indeed we are, Sirius, but it did feel right in the moment. You know,” Remus gave him an appraising look, and Sirius shivered, “you look rather like a painting, lying there like that.”“My dear Remus, we know very well that I am a work of art.”Remus laughed. “Yes, that has been well established.” He took off his hat and placed it on a table, then crossed over to the windows. “May I?” he asked, gesturing to the curtains.

yall its gay historical pining thats it thats the summary

Other: its just,,,, a period drama. thats it. I wrote a scene from a period drama just for the pining.

Multi Chapter Fics

Love At First Hot Chocolate

Rating: General Audiences

Ship(s): Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, background James Potter/Lily Evans

Chapter/Word Count: 5 chapters, 5069 words

Summary: 18 year old Remus Lupin works at Starbucks. He hates it. He hates that he has to talk to people and be nice. He hates making coffee (although he doesn't mind the hot chocolate). But one day, Sirius Black walks in. For Remus, it's love at first sight. But does Sirius feel the same way?

Other: Muggle au, sort of a coffeeshop au in that they meet at a coffeeshop but otherwise it’s not it there much, fluff, might have been inspired by a post I saw a few years ago about Remus working at a coffeeshop and always getting Sirius’s name wrong?? But again, I wrote this a few years ago and don’t really remember lol

I Hope That I Don’t Fall In Love With You

Rating: General Audiences

Ship(s): Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, James Potter/Lily Evans

Chapter/Word count: 2 chapters, 1431 words

Summary: James is getting married, and Sirius worries that he won't get to see his best friend anymore. One night, he vents his feelings to a cute stranger at a pub, who happens to be in a similar situation.

Other: Muggle au, title from the Tom Waits song I Hope That I Don’t Fall In Love With You

If You Want To Buy Me Flowers

Rating: General Audiences

Ship(s): Sirius Black/Remus Lupin

Chapter/Word Count: 3 chapters, 1499 words

Summary: Remus owns a flower shop. Sirius is breaking up with his boyfriend using flower language.

Other: Muggle au, Remus is a florist au, inspired by a post I saw about flower meanings, title from the song Two Princes by Spin Doctor

Don’t Shoot The Messenger

Rating: General Audiences

Ship(s): Remus Lupin/Sirius Black, James Potter/Lily Evans, Alice (I don’t know her last name)/Frank Longbottom

Chapter/Word Count: 16 chapters, 13,192 words

Summary: Ever since his first year at Hogwarts, Remus Lupin has been exchanging messages with someone on a bathroom stall. Neither of them know who the other one is, and now that they're graduating soon, they want to find out.

Other: Muggle au, modern au, Remus isn't part of the Marauders au, a bit of texting

Love Through The Ages

Rating: General Audiences

Ship(s): Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, some vague background James Potter/Lily Evans

Chapter/Word Count: 4 chapters, 2213 words

Summary: Remus finds a love letter that Sirius wrote to him two centuries previously and never sent.

Other: They’re vampires au, I guess technically muggle au??, fluff, love letters, confessions, inspired by this post by @kayvsworld

“No, Sirius, tying the stems of flowers together will NOT make a flower crown”

Rating: General Audiences

Ship(s): Remus Lupin/Sirius Black

Chapter/Word Count: 4/4 chapters, 4247 words

Summary: In which Sirius can’t make a flower crown, Remus thinks Sirius might be flirting, and James has no clue what’s going on.

Other: so much fluff, oblivious James, inspired by this art that I love a lot by @girlwithacrown

Hogwarts, 1993

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences (this may change, I don’t have the fic planned out at all, so it could end up with a G rating, but I’ve rated it T just to be safe)

Ship(s): Remus Lupin/Sirius Black

Chapter/Word Count: 7/? chapters, 7248 words as of October 4 2020

Summary: When Sirius escapes Azkaban and goes to Hogwarts, instead of lurking around as the Grim like a FOOL, he decides to seek help from an old friend.

Other: I don't have any warnings for this one yet, but I’ll put them in if necessary. I’ll be posting the chapters as I write them, and I’ll try to make sure it doesn’t take too long.

the doc was called halloween babeyy

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Ship(s): Remus Lupin/Sirius Black, James Potter/Lily Evans

Chapter/Word Count: 6 chapters, 1240 words

Summary: a self indulgent halloween fic with pumpkin shenanigans, meet cutes, and texting.

“They’re battle scars,” Remus repeated. “And you can’t call him just ‘pumpkin’ anymore, his official title is the PumpKing and he requires it to be used at all times.” Remus finished carving out the last scar, and picked up the sharpie to draw the outline of a crown near the top of the pumpkin. One he was satisfied, he picked up his knife and started cutting along the lines.“In that case,” James said, “Mine’s the PumPeasant and he looks like this because of a childhood disease.”

Other: ‘tis all fluff :))

a very (in)effective seduction

Rating: General Audiences

Ship(s): Remus Lupin/Sirius Black

Chapter/Word Count: 10/? chapters, 9557 words

Summary: In which Sirius decides that it's time to seduce Moony. Yes, he has a list

Other: written for girlwithacrown and kidovna’s blissember chirstmas prompts! get together, fluff, etc.

Note: I will finish this eventually, but I was struggling a lot with writing it, so it may take some time. I do have it sort of planned out, and once I have the motivation to write it again it shouldn’t take too long to finish :))

dreaming of you

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Ship(s): Remus Lupin/Sirius Black, Dorcas Meadowes/Marlene McKinnon

Chapter/Word Count: 6/? chapters, 4932 words

Summary:

french bitch: I have arrived

french bitch: paris has gained a resident and he is magnificent

sweet sweet moony: paris is usually referred to as she

french bitch: HOW DARE

Jimmy: he does have a point tho

or: Sirius is in france on his study abroad year, remus is pining, and James and Peter are enjoying the chaos

Other: texting, fluff, theres eventually gonna be wolfstar and dorlene and either jily or jegulily I haven’t decided yet

You Hold The Key To My Heart

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Ship(s): Remus Lupin/Sirius Black, James Potter/Lily Evans/Regulus Black

Chapter/Word Count: 38 chapters, 26 049 words

Summary: Sirius threw himself on his bed, not caring about how he must be wrinkling his clothes. In fact, he relished the idea. At least his parents would have a reason to be angry with him today. He stayed there, thinking about soft curls and a sweet face that he barely caught a glimpse of, until the sun was shining directly through his window and James arrived to help him dress for dinner.

Or, a victorian au in which Remus is a gardener, Sirius is a dramatic rich kid, and they fall in love.

Other: I wrote this for the 2020 wolfstar games. it’s mainly fluff, but I also got to indulge my love of historical things which was amazing :D

Series

Dan’s cute & short wolfstar fics with no plot that make them happy to write :)

Rating: General Audiences

Ship(s): Remus Lupin/Sirius Black

Number of works: 4

Complete: No

Works in the series:

Goodnight Moony - Remus doesn’t want to go to bed. Sirius thinks Remus should go to bed. 201 words.

Snow - It’s literally just Remus and Sirius enjoying the snow, that’s it, that’s the fic, please enjoy. 124 words.

I Just Called To Say I love You - Sirius calls Remus the night before a big exam. 174 words.

Lupin Can’t Sing - Please read the title to the tune of “lupin can’t sing, lupin can’t sing, lupin cannot sing!” from AVPS. Remus is drunk and trying really really hard at karaoke. 409 words.

Ruby Tuesday - Remus and Sirius cuddle and listen to Ruby Tuesday. It's very cute, if I do say so myself. 259 words.

HP Pride Month 2020!!

Rating: General Audiences

Ship(s): Remus Lupin/Sirius Black, Lily Evans/James Potter

Number of works: 4

Complete: Yes

Other: All the fics in this series were written for @girlwithacrown ‘s HP pride month prompts, and you can find other fics written for those prompts in her collection on AO3!

Works in the series:

Coming Out - Remus and Sirius decide to tell their friends they're dating. 1035 words.

Flag - Sirius and James make unique additions to their pride flags, and at the pride parade they see two other people with matching flags. 1126 words.

Family - Sirius runs away from home. 898 words.

Healing - Remus's dog gets hurt, and the vet is way hotter than Remus was prepared for. Sirius may or may not have Ted from Schitt's Creek vibes. It was mostly unintentional. 1012 words.

Working Title: Summertime

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Ship(s): Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, James Potter/Lily Evans

Number of Works: 2

Complete: No

Works in the series:

Forgiveness & Friendship - The summer after sixth year (and The Prank, you know which one. The one with Snape. And Remus.), Sirius shows up on James's doorstep. 13 chapters, 4437 words

Mischief & Matchmaking - The marauders (+ Lily) are spending a few weeks at James’s house, and oh boy is there a lot of sexual tension there. Peter decides to do something about it. Featuring: shenanigans and three separate tropes cause why not. 17/17 chapters and 6772 words.

dan?? writing angst?? it’s more likely than you’d think

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Ship(s): Remus Lupin/Sirius Black

Number of Works: 3

Complete: No

Works in the series:

stardust is easily lost - He kisses him because he loves him, because loving Sirius is a habit he’s never been able to break, not in school when he thought loving Sirius would kill him, and not now when he thinks that Sirius might kill them all. It keeps him up at night sometimes.

cascade - Teaching at Hogwarts is equal parts wonderful and miserable. He loves his students, but some days he looks at them and he sees himself, happy and carefree, with his best friends at his side. Those days are the hardest.

the death of a star - And sometimes, Sirius almost seems like his old self again. Sometimes, his mischievous grin that Remus remembers all too well will appear on his face, and he’ll lean over and whisper a snide comment in Remus’s ear, and Remus will have to try to stifle a laugh.

Other: yall this is angst, there is major character death, its A Lot, theyre also down in the Tumblr drabbles section & their titles are all variations of “angst babeyyy”

dan is a) yearning and b) obsessed with dorlene and bookstores

Rating: General Audiences and Teen and Up Audiences

Ship(s): Marlene McKinnon/Dorcas Meadowes

Number of Works: 3

Complete: No

Works in the series:

1. Walking In a Winter Wonderland – As they skated, Marlene couldn’t take her eyes off of Dorcas. She knew that they were holding a conversation somehow or other––about Dorcas’s job at the bookstore, she was fairly certain––but her brain was on autopilot as she watched the lights dance across Dorcas’s face, lighting up the night like miniature stars.

2. adventures pertaining to love actually (and also shrek) – The woman shook her head solemnly, but a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “You absolutely cannot.”They grinned at each other for a moment, then the woman’s eyes flicked up to the clock on the wall and she swore. “I’ve got to go. It was nice talking to you! And you’ll have to tell me what you think of that movie if you watch it!”“I will!” Dorcas called after her, and the woman waved as she hurried out the door.Well. She sure hoped that Love Actually was on Netflix. (note: this one is set before the first fic in the series)

3. it can't be hard to find a present right?? (wrong) – “What’cha got there?” Frank flopped into the chair beside Dorcas and took a sip of his coffee, eyeing the mess of yarn on her lap with curiosity.

“It’s not weird to make her a scarf, is it?”

“...to make who a scarf?”

“You know exactly who I’m talking about.”

Other: yeah im just being generally fluffy and self indulgent here, enjoy! :))

Tumblr Drabbles

“It’s three in the morning” - jegulus

“This is the opposite of what I told you to do!” - wolfstar

“Do you have a ride home?” - wolfstar

“Come cuddle” - wolfstar

“I am home” - dorlene

“I’m getting married? Since when were you choosing my future spouse?” - wolfstar

“Another bad date?” - jily

James and Remus being very very chaotic bros

24 hour diner au - wolfstar

they have the same favourite chair - wolfstar

Sirius loses Remus’s present (and James helps him look) – wolfstar

when she wears YOUR flannel shirt - dorlene

when you can’t choose just one snuggly blanket so you wrap up in all of them - the marauders

angst babeyyyyyyyyy - first war wolfstar

2 angst 2 babeyyyyyyyyy - poa wolfstar

angst babeyyyy 3.0 - ootp sorta wolfstar

high school/college minifest day 1: back to school - wolfstar

high school/college minifest day 2: detention - wolfstar

remus has whipped cream on his face and sirius canNOT handle it - wolfstar

hufflepuff remus who makes friends with the marauders - wolfstar

dorcas is hurt and marlene is taking care of her - dorlene

remus is a lil shit (back hugs prompt) - wolfstar

just friends booty shorts - James and sirius

night at the museum au - wolfstar and jily

#fic masterlist #wolfstar fics #jily fics #jegulily fics #dorlene fics #fic recs #James potter #lily evans #peter pettigrew #remus lupin #regulus black #marlene mckinnon #dorcas meadowes #marauders fic

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danyka-fendyr · 5 years ago

Text

Wildfire - 1

Chapter 1: Bibbity Boggarty Boo

Should I have been writing the next chapter of Absence of Good? Yes. Should I definitely have been trying to write a Reylo oneshot I said I would write weeks ago? Oh, absolutely. But instead I got inspired to start a whole new series based off of Harry Potter, and so here we are. Sometimes I just have to follow where the inspiration leads, and if the several different Reylo drafts just aren’t working out, a George Weasley fic is what happens apparently. Anyway sorry to literally all of my followers who did not ask for this.

Taglist: @dreamwritesimagines @rhabakoli

Wordcount: 2501

Warnings: Death. Themes of war. Abuse of power. Injury/gore.

Magic is a tricky thing. It is alive in its own way, not a tool but a force, unstoppable and scarcely controllable, wild and bright. If you are lucky enough to see it, to touch it, to have it run through your veins and into your children’s, you can maybe understand something of the untamable nature of magic. It has been argued that magic does not choose, but that it is only transferred, passed down through those of the purest blood. But…over the years, you have come to see different. Much as the wand chooses the witch, you are inclined to believe magic chooses the witch as well, and doesn’t have much to say as far as blood goes.

Convincing Professor Binns of that in the longest essay you had ever been assigned would be considerably more work. The professor could be a bit archaic as far as muggleborn rights went, which was all the more infuriating for you as a muggleborn. However, the man was dead, so you felt you had to give him a certain amount of credit for even still grading papers and teaching class, half-hearted prejudice aside. Binns’ refusal to throw hands with Malfoy, while not perhaps relatable, was at least understandable. You also often found it difficult to feel any amount of passion or human emotion sometimes.

“I just want to go to sleep,” you groaned.

“Awww, is little Y/N tired?”

Fred Weasley cooed over you, clearly unaware of how dangerously close he would be to death if you just had slightly more energy. That being said, you didn’t have slightly more energy, so maybe this was strategically advantageous for him. Nobody ever accused the Weasley twins of being stupid. Well, except for you sometimes.

“Don’t mess with me right now Weasley.”

“Oh no Georgie, she’s using my last name.”

“Our last name, Freddie. Maybe she was talking to me. Y/N dear, which one of us were you talking to?”

“Yes.” Your voice was slightly muffled from where you had just leaned forward into the table, carefully avoiding your freshly inked parchment.

“Well now, that’s not very nice. What did I do?”

“I’m sick and I have the world’s longest paper to write from Binns and I am in turns hot and cold which means the fire is both my best friend and actual Satan.” Also we are on the verge of war. Also the Dark Lord is back. Also there is a pink toad trying to run Hogwarts like a dictatorship. “I’m not in the mood to be messed with.”

You glanced up tiredly, ready to give a baleful glare, only to find a concerned looking George Weasley. Fred hovered behind him, his face also worried as he took in your red nose, watery eyes and miserable countenance.

“Love, why haven’t you gone to the hospital wing?” George asked.

“Because I can’t bring myself to drag my way all the way through this stupid castle just to get a freaking Pepper Up potion. In short, I’m lazy.”

You patted the couch next to you, gesturing for him to sit down so that at the very least he could give you that concerned look in comfort. He sat like he was on pins and needles, which you shouldn’t have been surprised by.

As long as you had known him, George Weasley had never been one not to take action. Fred got much of the credit for being the idea man, but the truth was that if George Weasley wasn’t moving he was dying inside. He was also just a tad bit protective, especially of you.

You attributed this to the fact that when you were a sweet, innocent muggleborn first year you may have lost your temper and managed to completely eviscerate Marcus Flint without ever laying a finger on him. Not that it was hard to emotionally damage a 13-year-old boy with teeth that jacked up. Anyway, Marcus had decided to go for a less pacifistic method of revenge and George Weasley had swooped in to rescue you, Fred in tow. It didn’t take long to become friends with the guys who had saved you from the hospital wing.

You leaned into his side, sniffling quietly, only to have him launch up and swiftly be replaced by Fred trying to prevent you from falling over.

“I’ll be right back,” George said, a determined look on his face and no explanation on his lips.

You raised an eyebrow at Fred. “So, should I expect him back in 5 minutes or 3 hours?”

“I bet you a chocolate frog he’s back in 5 minutes.” Fred grinned.

“That’s not fair. You always win bets about George.”

“I wonder why.”

You rolled your eyes before resuming staring at the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room, its warm flames licking the faded brick, staining it soot black, Death Eater black. These days it seemed like everything in your head came back to Death Eaters. And if it wasn’t Death Eaters, it was Umbridge.

You had to admit to being petrified by Umbridge. It wasn’t that she didn’t make you angry. She did. But you also knew what she did to students who misbehaved, had seen the scars settling into Harry Potter’s hand, had once even caught George trying to hide blood from you.

“Georgie, what’s that?” You stopped him on his way up to the dorms.

You were up late studying, and it was well past the hours any decent human being should be awake. You were up though, trying to puzzle out a potions assignment and meeting with very little success. George, apparently, was also up, and clutching his sleeve in a very odd, suspicious fashion.

“It’s nothing. Shouldn’t you be asleep?” He turned away from you, framing the arm in question in shadow.

“Did you hurt yourself working on new products again?” You asked, crossing the room to inspect his arm. You pushed the sleeve back, chatting as you went. “You really have to be more careful. I know there’s a lot of demand, but you can’t put your health at risk just fo-”

You gave a small gasp when you saw the words scrawled into his arm, blood still fresh, jagged little bits of skin speckled with red darker than his hair, more ominous. I must not make mischief.

“Who did this to you?” You knew the answer, but you had to ask.

“Really, it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it, Y/N. Go to bed.”

He tried to pull his arm out of your grasp, but you held on, careful not to hurt him. Gently, you edged a single finger around the clean skin surrounding the wound. Your other hand had found its way into his, fingers lacing together in your horror, tears in your eyes.

She shouldn’t be allowed to do this to him. No one should be allowed to do this to him. This shouldn’t happen to good people like George Weasley. He didn’t deserve it.

“Hey,” he said softly, wiping a tear off your cheek. “It’s alrigh’ love, I’m fine. Just a flesh wound.”

“We should uh..” You took a shaky breath. “We should clean it up.”

You lead him over to the couch, leaving him to wait while you headed to your room and grabbed some spare bandages and ointment from a first-aid kit your mother insisted you take to Hogwarts with you every year.

“We’ll have you better in no time,” You promised with false cheer.

“Pepper Up potion!” George announced triumphantly. “Fred and I use it all the time when we’re testing products. We’ll have you better in no time.”

You had more reason to be afraid of Umbridge than just what you had seen though. The truth was that while you tended to be docile as a lamb when people attacked you, you didn’t like it when people attacked the people you loved. You had gone after Umbridge and paid the price in long sleeves and muggle makeup, but some mean, dark, spiteful thing inside of you said that every detention was worth it despite the pain.

You couldn’t let the twins know though. If George saw the words carved into the back of your hand and up your arm in your own loops and swirls he would have a fit.

I must not be a know-it-all.

You knocked back the potion quickly, shaking your head vigorously as it burned through you.

“I swear muggle alcohol has nothing on that crap,” You muttered.

“Hey, don’t complain. I just magically cured you of all your ails.”

You snorted lightly, grinning up at him. It was true though. Your stuffed nose and wheezing breaths were gone, replaced by perfect health, more or less.

“My hero,” you said.

“My angel.”

You blushed, shaking your head at him. Always so dramatic, the Weasley twins. Speaking of drama, some seemed to have found its way to you now.

Neville Longbottom ricocheted down the stairs, his face white with terror, as blank as a muggle who’d seen a ghost. If it were any other student, you might have been terrified, but Neville was somewhat more prone to bouts of fright. You stood calmly, smoothing out your robes and reaching casually for your wand.

“You alright there Neville?”

“B-b-boggart,” the boy stuttered.

“Don’t you worry Neville, Y/N will get it sorted. Never seen anyone cast a better riddikulus charm, myself,” Fred said.

“You give me too much credit, Fred.” You were already heading up the steps of the boy’s dormitory though, confident in your ability.

You could hear George speculating on how it must have gone missing from some closet in the deeper reaches of the castle. There were so many nooks and crannies in Hogwarts that there was always at least one boggart somewhere, even if you never saw it. Wand at the ready, you opened the door to Neville’s dorm, knowing exactly what to expect. Except you didn’t find what you expected.

You pulled in a deep breath, legs shaking as you stared at what was before you. It was supposed to be you tied up or in a straight jacket or just generally somehow trapped, your worst fear. Or it had been your worst fear, before you went to war.

His red hair was plastered to his pale face, blank eyes staring. All the light and mischief sucked right out of them. You fell to your knees just outside of the circle of blood pooling around his body, and a choked noise came out of your throat, the only sound you could make.

One of the boys must have heard you, because you vaguely registered Neville calling up to ask if you were okay. You couldn’t answer though, transfixed by the sight before you. You knew you were supposed to riddikulus it, but you couldn’t move.

At some point, the boys must have come up the stairs, because you heard a quiet voice behind you mutter, “Bloody…”

You thought it might have been Fred, but you weren’t sure.

“Come on, angel.”

George’s soft voice filtered through the cold mist that had a grip on your mind, his hands gripping your arms, gently but firmly lifting you back up to your feet. With a flick of his wand, he cast the charm, breaking the boggart’s spell over you as his dead body turned to a comically fake version of the same picture, ketchup and all.

An arm over your shoulders, George steered you away from the dorm as you tried to process the shock of what you’d just seen.

“I never…It wasn’t…It used to be…”

“I know,” George said. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain.”

You shook your head. “Last spring…last spring it was just me being trapped.”

George pulled you closer into his side, and you realized that hot tears were falling out of your eyes and onto his uniform.

“A lot’s changed since last spring,” he said. “It’s alright though. I’m here. Everything is fine.”

You realized with a grateful start that George was leading you back to your own room so that you didn’t have to cry in front of everybody in the common room, shielding your body with his own. The stairs appeared to accept your unspoken desire for him to be here as permission enough as he lead you up them without a hitch.

“It won’t stay fine though,” you managed to work out.

“I’ll still be here then,” he said.

“You can’t promise that.”

“I can. No matter what angel, I can guarantee you one thing. You and I, we’re going to stick together.” He opened the door to your dorm room, blissfully empty as most of Gryffindor tower was out on the first winter weekend with clear skies you’d had in a while. “And Freddie, of course.”

“I thought that was a given,” you joked.

“There she is,” George said, watching you smile a little as you took a seat on your bed.

“It’s just been a little…harder lately.” You defended your tears. “With everything we know and what the ministry’s doing and the Order and Umbridge’s de-”

You cut yourself off, quickly revising your choice of words. “Umbridge’s devastating ability to make me want to kill her.”

George laughed. “Don’t let her hear you say that. She’d probably call it high treason against the ministry or something. Say you were in cahoots with You Know Who.”

“Ugh. You Know Boo is more like it. Never met a bigger buzzkill than the Dark Lord.”

“Technically we’ve both had the good fortune not to meet him yet.” George leaned against one of the posters of your bed.

“We will eventually. Then I can tell everybody whether or not Harry was making it all up.”

George stiffened. “You think he’s lying?”

“Yeah, kinda. I mean, a guy with no nose? He had to have made that part up. There’s no way the big baddie doesn’t have a nose. Harry’s just yanking our chain.”

He burst out laughing, sparks flying from his chocolate eyes.

“It would be a good laugh too, wouldn’t it?”

“Oh, the best. Positively historic.”

“Oi, Georgie!” Fred’s voice bellowed up from the common room. “What are you two doing up there? Don’t make me call Minnie!”

You heard a chorus of laughter from the common room and groaned.

“Could you please ask him to stop convincing the school we’re dating?”

“I’ve asked, but you know Fred. He can be…”

“Stubborn?”

“An independent thinker.”

You huffed another laugh. “Okay, well you better get down there before he gets everybody to start independently thinking some very inappropriate things about us. I have a reputation to keep, you know.”

“Reputation as a stick in the mud, when we’re not around.”

“You love it. I’ll see you at dinner?”

“See you at dinner.”

You watched his scarlet head of hair disappear down the hall, moving like wildfire with each step, and grinned to yourself. You supposed if they were going to spread wildfire rumors about anyone, it would be George Weasley.

#harry potter #george weasley #fred weasley #george weasley fic #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley series #harry potter fic #harry potter series

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hailene · 5 years ago

Text

Perfect Imperfection (3)

Perfect Imperfection| part three (final)

Characters: Jaemin x female lead, Chenle x female lead (the girl will go by the name of Aeri)

Genre: fluff, angst, writer!au, highschool!au

Word count: 5.9 K

Summary: Aeri is a the teenager who writes. Finding inspiration in anything surrounds her, her ideas go wild once she meets the perfect character, Na Jaemin. As a writer becomes obsessive with their favourite character, Aeri grows a weird passion for the bright boy. However, she's so focused on painting Jaemin as perfectly as possible, that she ignores the furry of fiery hair that takes her to night walks and shows her secret places around the town. Despite knowing everything, she forgets that playing with fire means getting burnt. And that sometimes, when we remember to stop, it's too late.

part one 》part two 》part three

There is one thing I might never understand about Zhong Chenle: how even though I am used to analyzing people in silence and figuring out by myself which type of character they are in this big story called life, I haven't figured out who he really is, despite the fact that I've known him for a while now.

And this confusion sticks with me even as he leads me back in the coffee shop we left a few minutes ago.

"Why are we here again?" I ask as he gestures me to sit at the same table, near the window.

I do so, moving quite slowly and trying to figure out why he's doing this.

"I'm sorry." He says but his face didn't look as sorrowful as his words.

"Maybe." I wave him off, slightly annoyed at the memory of his words.

"But," he continues "as the lucky soul who got to peek through your notebook, I must let you know stuff."

I look at him, my eyebrows furrowed in both annoyance and confusion.

"Such as?"

"Such as the fact that you're being obvious and the only reason why the others haven't figured out you have something for Jaemin is because they're close to both of you. It's easy for me though." He shrugs.

"No, the only reason why you know that is because you read it." I snap but he looks unfazed.

He blinks a few times as if I was shooting bullets at him but he was melting them all.

"Why Jaemin?" He asks and I look at him for quite a few seconds before saying:

"You're unbelievable... thought you've figured out I never let anybody ever get in my business when it comes to writing."

He shrugs again.

"I have," he says "but I think I might help you."

"I don't need your help, Chenle." I say but my voice comes out softer than I wanted it to.

"Maybe." He smiles. "But if you're only ever going to write Jaemin's portrayal, you won't ever get a story done... stories need action, right?"

I don't say anything, too annoyed at his control over the situation to come up with any kind of witty remark.

"He needs to make you feel in some certain way for you to be able to write about him... those shivers that you feel whenever he smiles at you are far from enough, honey."

I frown at the last word but as I let my brain process the information, I realize that deep down, he's right. All I have been doing has been writing about Jaemin and creating fake scenarios in my head that never seemed to actually be good enough to be written.

"So what do you suggest?" I ask trying to sound uninterested.

He smiles and I realize I didn't sound enough uninterested.

"Well, we can start with his dark-like-night coffee," he says "so you can get in the mood, you know?"

***

Weeks and months pass like this, my encounters with Chenle being more and more frequent, to the point Hyuck asked me if there was something going on between us. There wasn't. Little did everybody know how big of a help Chenle was to me in writing about the story of Jaemin's character. He was telling me stuff that the older boy was saying at the basketball trainments and little gestures of his, but he was also discretely pinching me whenever my starring was too obvious while we hung out together. The other day, we exchanged notes during class and I was trying so hard to contain my laughter as I was really close to getting detention. He's also made a habit out of sending me memes at ungodly hours, ruining my sleeping schedule, but they were so funny that I couldn't regret it.

Walking out of school, I bump into somebody taller than me, making me slightly stumble backwards.

"I'm so sor-... Jaemin?" I say as I look at the hazelnut-haired boy who looked just as surprised as I was.

We haven't had the chance to see each other in a while and I was genuinely happy to see him now, my heart jumping in my chest, like a bird in a cage. We end up going for coffee as it was almost weekend and none of us had too many assignments to do. We order the usual, hot chocolate for me and iced americano with 2.5 extra shots of espresso for Jaemin- drink which, by the way, tasted even more bitter than it looked like.

We chat for a while, more like making conversation than actually talking about important things, maybe that was also because I was too aware of his presence and of the way the warm lights in the coffee shop made his eyes sparkle.

"Aeri, there's something I wanted to ask you." He says at some point. "I've been thinking about this and I think you're the perfect person to ask for help from... that, of course, if you want to."

"Go ahead." I say, gesturing him to say whatever he has to say.

He shifts a bit in his seat, something a bit unusual for Jaemin, but I let it slide.

"My mom is having this fancy relatives and close friends reunion at our house next weekend and she asked me to bring a friend... she meant to bring my girlfriend, but since I don't have one..."

"So you want me to be your fake girlfriend for a day?" I ask, a bit taken aback by his idea.

He gives me one of his charming smiles and I mentally curse at him for being so annoyingly attractive and for making my heart flutter this much.

"Uh... yeah." He says. "But it's completely fine if you don't want to, it's a stupid idea anyway, I should've-..."

"I'll do it." I say, avoiding my gaze. His mouth goes slightly agape but he slightly shakes his head, in order to get back to his senses.

"Have you just said you...?"

I chuckle my anxiety away.

"Yeah, it's not big deal anyway." I smile.

It is, actually. A huge deal.

"That's... that's great!" He smiles, his face lighting up once again. "I can't thank you enough, Aeri."

"Nah, that's alright." I smile. "So, how fancy should I dress?"

***

A fun fair was the last place I expected we'd go to when Chenle texted me he'd pick me up in 10 minutes. Yet here we were, my notebook stuffed in my bag alongside some pens and a bottle of water. I didn't really like this kind of places but I didn't want to let Chenle know it, he seemed too excited and for once, I didn't want to ruin that.

After a few rides on Chenle's favourite machines, he gets us a double sized cotton candy, both of us deciding it was time to simply sit on a bench and catch our breath. I open my notebook and write down a few words about how fascinated the roller coaster rides made me feel but how I regret screaming the whole time because now my throat was sore. It wasn't that bad. However, I was far from enjoying this whole thing as much as Chenle. The sparks in his eyes seemed to shine even brighter than the colourful neon lights in the amusement park and that was such a pretty sight to see.

"So," he begins, stuffing a piece of pink cotton candy in his mouth "how do you feel?"

I shrug as I write some words in my notebook.

"I don't really know, I think the last ride has brainwashed me." I say and he laughs, some people walking by turning their heads towards the fiery-haired boy.

Because even his laugh was brighter than the whole park.

"Such a shame." He shakes his head. "Did you like it though?"

"Enough much to make me write some pretty cool stuff in here." I say pointing towards my notebook.

He smiles fondly and I feel sparkles of happiness fluttering in my chest at the sight of his bright smile. I should've grown used to it by now, I get to see it every time he takes me places, it's like he's my personal guide (even though the furthest we've been was some opening in the close proximity of our town) and he enjoys his job so much. But I can't seem to get used to how happy these trips make me feel. I note down some words, slowly drifting away from the reality surrounding me. However, Chenle's words make their way to me, making me flinch slightly.

"Have you decided on his name?" He asks and I smile.

"Yeah," I answer "Jem... it's pretty much short from Jaemin but you can also take it as 'gem' which makes me think of bright lights and sparkles and... basically Jaemin..."

A small smile makes its way up to my lifs as I lower my head, as if trying to hide from Chenle, but there was nothing to hide anymore.

"That's a nice idea." I hear him saying. "I guess it can work."

I nod.

"Thanks... you know, you're really helping me a lot in all of this."

It's his turn to nod, with a sweet smile plastered on his lips.

"Yeah," he whispers after I no longer pay attention to him "I guess I am."

***

"You did what?"

"I know you've heard it from the first time and I would sincerely appreciate if you guys stopped acting like deaf grandpas." I say folding my arms over my chest. "Plus it's not such a big deal."

"Yeah, it's only for a day." Yeji adds from the other corner of the room.

"Wait, you knew?" Jeno asks turning to her but she simply shrugs.

"You're still coming to the study night, right?" Chenle asks and I cam literally feel myself mentally face palming in that moment.

"N-no, Chenle, I'm so so sorry! It's at the same night with Jaemin's..."

"That's okay." He says simply and for a while, the thought that he's not mad soothes me.

Chenle is never mad.

"You guys are acting all shocked when the poor girl is meeting Nana's family and she has nothing to wear." Yeji rolls her eyes and I chuckle, despair clearly written across Jeno's face.

"Please don't tell me-"

"Hell yeah, we're going shopping." Yeji smiles devilishly and I can basically see Jeno's soul leaving his body like in the cartoons.

"And you guys are coming." I add, looking at Jeno, Chenle and Renjun, all of them looking devastated by the flash news that we're going to the mall.

"Actually... I can't, I have something else to do for the rest of the day... " Chenle says.

"Oh no, Zhong, you're not running away." Yeji says standing up but he smiles and for a second, I see a dash of exhaustion on his face.

But Chenle is never exhausted.

"It's not like that, Yeji. I'm sorry, I'll see you guys, later."

And with that, he leaves the gym, silence floating in the air for a few seconds, maybe because none of us has ever seen Chenle being so serious. So unlike his usual self.

And then it clicks to me. Chenle is never mad. He is silent. And when Zhong Chenle is silent, the end of the world might as well be close.

***

The fancy party was far from being what I had expected, the atmosphere was far from being as dense as I'd thought it would be. Jaemin's mom was a sweetheart and her eyes sparkled with happiness when she saw me, almost the same way as Jaemin's eyes light up when he's excited about something. The other guests were actually really nice and so unlike the gossip-lover kind of old people that I had imagined.

One of mrs. Na's friends excused herself in order to answer a call while we were talking about the career as a novelist (fun fact: she was miss Kang's aunt and she seemed to share the passion for writing with her niece) and Jaemin suddenly showed up near me, making me slightly flinch.

"Everything alright?" He asks and I nod with a genuine smile on my face.

"To be honest I didn't really expect to enjoy this evening so much." I say.

He smiles and looks at me with his warm glimmering eyes and for a second time seems to stop and the background music, the chatter and the laughter seem to fade away.

"Aw look at them, they're so cute together!" I hear the lady I was talking to earlier saying.

Another woman which I recognize as being Jaemin's grandmother stares at us in awe and I feel my cheeks heating up. I smile awkwardly as I feel Jaemin's hand sneaking up over my shoulders and pulling me closer to him, breath hitching in my throat.

"Yeah, she's the cutest." He says smiling and I slowly lift my head to look at him, searching for any kind of humour on his face.

Did he really say that? Or was I dreaming?

He looks down at my face and the closeness of our faces makes my eyes slightly widen. Maybe he figures it out, because a sweet grin makes its way up to his lips and I feel my cheeks getting hot once again.

"Excuse us for a second..." Jaemin says without taking his eyes off me and pulls me by my left wrist towards the backyard of his house.

We leave the ladies chuckling and giving each other suggestive looks and honestly, I wasn't so sure how I was feeling about that. Once we arrive in the backyard, he lets go of my wrist and looks at me with the same sweet smile that made my knees turn to jelly a few minutes ago. However, I decide to gather up my courage and stand tall because my walls couldn't be broken down so easy, so fast. I needed my cover to be able to write about him. I needed to keep myself in the position of the observer. I couldn't step in the action or things could've gone bad.

"What was that about?" I ask crossing my arms over my chest.

His smile widens as he steps closer to me.

"What did you want it to be?" He asks in a lower tone and my eyes slightly widen again.

This is not Jem. Jem would never act like this.

He chuckles at the sight of my face.

"Nothing, don't worry, Aeri." He says smiling. "There's somebody I don't wanna hurt."

"Whom?" I ask confused.

His smile fades slightly, a glint of surprise crossing his face.

"Somebody who cares deeply about you." He smiles.

I shake my head after my brain proceeds his words.

"No way, Jem, Jeno is my best friend-..."

"I wasn't talking about him." He still smiles, despite the seriousness of the conversation and I can't help but mentally curse at him for making me feel so torn.

Who could possibly care about me so deeply that me and Jaemin being a thing could hurt them?

"Why did you bring me here?" His smile widens once again and he looks at the ground for a second, before looking into my eyes once again.

"To thank you. Like really thank you, if you weren't here, I would probably be sitting in the living room and listening to my uncle's stories about his first car."

I laugh.

"That's alright, I'll always be here if you need anything." I smile.

He shakes his head.

"You shouldn't." He says with a tint of bitterness in his voice.

"Why is that?" I ask.

He looks at me for a few seconds, giving me enough time to admire his perfect features.

"Children, we're serving the cake now!" Jaemin's mom says from behind us and I flinch in surprise.

"We're coming!" Jaemin gestures her and I look at him, disappointed that I might never get my answer.

Sensing that, he simply smiles again.

"Take care of yourself, Aeri."

He says before we get in the house once again.

***

"It was insane. Honestly. I didn't know he would be so similar to the way I created Jem. It was ethereal, the way he looked screamed prince, I swear..." I say as I lay tiredly in my bed, a long sigh leaving my mouth. "And his mom was a total sweetheart, her cooking skills were incredible, for real. I wonder if Jaemin is as good at cooking as his mother. That would certainly be a huge plus to his character to be honest."

The boy sitting on my desk chair doesn't say anything and I roll in my bed to look at him.

"Don't you think so?" I ask as I hug one of my pillows.

The fiery-haired boy looks at me, his eyes lacking the usual glint of happiness that they always seemed to hold. Maybe he was tired after a day of school, as I was too.

"I guess." He sighs. "If it was good enough to make you write, that's nice."

"Yeah, it was... but like, it was more than enough," I say. "I didn't feel like I was playing a role, I felt like I belonged there."

"Don't lose yourself in the story, Aeri." He says on a concerned tone and I sit in my bed, legs crossed, still holding my pillow.

"I won't, but this..." I begin "this is no longer a story, Chenle, this is my reality, Jaemin might-..."

"No, Jem might, Aeri... not Jaemin." He says while standing up. "You have been so obsessed with writing about Jaemin that you forgot which version is real."

"I... didn't forget, what are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the fact that you should probably stop thinking about Jaemin as your superhero, because he's not Jem." He sighs.

"But-..."

"There is nothing dramatic about Jaemin for you to romanticize, okay?" He says, with a glint of exhaustion in his eyes.

"I'm not romanticizing anything, just because I like Jaemin, it doesn't mean I-..." I stop in midsentence when I realize what I've just said.

Despite the fact that I should be comfortable around Chenle, somehow this topic seems sensitive and definitely not a good choice to talk about now.

"You're not in love with Jaemin, Aeri." He says with bitterness. "You're in love with a lie."

I frown and stand up, crossing arms over my chest.

"And you're saying this because you know so much about how love works." I snap back and he simply shrugs, picking up his back-pack.

"Not your problem." He mutters.

"Hey... hey, I thought you'd at least understand if I told you I had feelings for Jaemin!" I say, feeling rage taking over me at the sudden change in his behavior.

Chenle never rises his voice. Chenle is never grumpy. Chenle is never exhausted. When he is mad, he is silent. Or ignorant. He stops in his tracks and for a second I feel like I might've said the wrong thing, which has never happened to me before around him.

"You thought wrong." He says. "I don't understand you at all."

"Do you really think-..." But before I can finish my question, Chenle leaves my room with big steps, without paying attention to my words.

"Chenle, wait-..." I run after him but before I can catch up, I hear the entrance door slamming and I know he's already gone.

I scream in frustration, as if it could bring him back. He won't come back, I know that for some reason. However, I can't help but be bothered by what has just happened between us because it felt unfair to me. He was unfair to me. He was supposed to support me in this, not tell me what I feel and what I don't.

And maybe there was something more than frustration, something that I didn't want to admit to myself, because I simply didn't want to feel like a bitch, something that made me fall on my knees and cry after my throat went dry from so much screaming. It felt like I'd lost Chenle. But it felt like I had lost a part of myself as well.

***

A few weeks have passed and to be honest, the one I've spent my time the most with has been Donghyuck. Jeno was busy with Yeji since they were (finally) officially dating, Renjun was traveling somewhere in Europe for a school exchange and there was no way I could talk to Chenle. I simply couldn't. Jaemin's mom invited me over for dinner tonight and I felt terrible that I had to decline. It wasn't that I didn't want to go, it was just that I couldn't bring myself to do it, I was feeling guilty for some reason.

That's why I asked Jaemin to meet me after classes today.

"I'm so sorry." I say, looking at the steaming hot chocolate in front of me.

"Don't worry about it." Jaemin smiles. "Mom will understand, that's literally the last thing you should be thinking about now."

I sigh and take a sip from my hot chocolate, hissing when it burns my tongue.

"Are you okay?" I hear Jaemin asking and I wave it off.

"It's just a burn, not even that bad." I mutter.

He chuckles with a spark of bitterness, only making my feeling of guilt grow.

"I wasn't talking about that." He smiles. "I was talking about how you feel."

I look at him, trying to ignore the pang in my chest and the constant feeling that I'm suffocating. I should be alright, I should be happy that I get to hang out with Jaemin. So why am I not?

"Jaemin, why... why did you say that I shouldn't be there for you?" I ask and his smile doesn't even fade.

"Because -..." He pauses and sighs, thinking.

"I... like you." I say out of the blue and I avoid my gaze, without necessarily waiting for a response. "Or at least, that's what... I think..."

I hear him sighing and I look at him once again.

"My mom used to tell me" he begins "that she fell in love with dad because he made her feel alive." He smiles and averts his gaze, looking out of the window of the café for a few seconds.

Then, he looks at me again.

"That's the definition that I've had about love my whole life... and I've started to believe in it more and more lately. But Aeri..."

He gives me one of his sweet smiles, but this time, it is filled with concern.

"...I don't think I'm the one who makes you feel alive."

And that was when I realized that truly, he was not. Because I wasn't sad that I'd been turned down.

I was thankful.

***

Today was the first day of judging for the writing contest and I was disappointed to see that none of the works that I've been given to judge was even close to my expectations. Renjun had warned me that none of the contestants would come close to my talent, but I laughed it off, asking him to stop with the sweet talk. My expectations weren't high, they were decent, but nothing seemed to get me interested. Nothing seemed to make me want to read further and so the whole time felt dull to me.

"I'm seriously going to hit you with a basketball if you keep zoning out any longer." I hear Hyuck saying and I sigh.

"Sorry, I was just... thinking." I say.

"Yeah, I know, the same way you have been doing for the past 16 days, 12 hours and... almost 37 minutes." He says checking his smartwatch.

I roll my eyes and sigh once again.

"I have to finish marking the essays for the writing contest by Thursday and I'm so not in the mood for that." I mutter closing my eyes in exhaustion.

I have been unable to write anything worth reading ever since I fought with Chenle and somehow, everything I've been doing ever since then feels wrong and incomplete. All I can do is focus on judging for the writing contest, even though I couldn't find a real motivation for that anymore either.

"Aeri?" I turn my head to my right and see miss Kang looking at me with her warm smile.

She was wearing a blue silk dress, her dark hair falling nicely in waves on her shoulders. Miss Kang was one of the nicest people I'd ever met and one of the only people ever who could understand my passion for writing. That was one of the reasons why I loved her.

"Oh, hello, miss!" I say standing up from my desk, slightly stumbling on my feet.

"Careful there." She chuckles. "Okay so I believe you're close to finishing your marking these days, but I wanted to show you this essay that came in my set. I'm not pressuring you or anything, I just you to mark this one too. I guess you'll figure out why I'm asking you to do this too. Is that alright with you?" She asks handing me a paper, probably a copy of the essay she has mentioned.

"Of course." I nod, taking the paper.

"That's great." She says smiling widely. "I'll see you later!"

She leaves the class as smoothly as she has entered and as soon as she does that, Donghyuck tries to snatch the paper from my hands.

"No way, nobody is reading these outside the judges, sweetie." I tell him and he rolls his eyes in annoyance.

"Fine, dumbass, as you say..."

The curiosity makes me unable to wait until I get home so after my English class, I take the paper from my backpack and unfold it, taking in the amount of words scribbled on the paper, with a handwriting that felt awfully familiar to me.

"If we run fast enough, maybe time won't be able to catch up with us..."

I lose myself in the words of the essay, being weirdly intrigued by every single line, unlike anything that I had read before while judging.

"...there are so many ways we can see the world and we don't even need to choose one, everyday is a new chance to rewrite it all from a new point of view. We can be whatever we want to be..."

It was speaking to me, weirdly, it felt like it was written for me, I could feel it on a different level and that was scaring me more than anything. Every word, every line, every feeling put on this paper, it all felt familiar. As if I've experienced it too.

"...but after all, we're just going on roller coaster rides, where lights blend and everything shines, where problems fade and we almost lose ourselves. That's alright- because even though the thrill will wash away her memory of me, her eyes will still sparkle. And that's enough, because like that, even time would stop to admire her beauty."

I stare at the piece of paper in my shaking hands, trying to run away from the realization that was becoming clearer and clearer in my head. The handwriting, the lines, the way all the words seemed to be made to be put together like that. It was perfect. But the essay was talking about so much imperfections that lives, our lives had in common. It was a twisted combination of feelings and memories and wild nights spent in funfairs and aquariums, in cafes and libraries, nowhere and everywhere at the same time.

I stand up, taking my back-pack and heading home. I had to finish marking essays and I had to do that now.

***

"Miss, I am sorry, but I can't grade this essay." I say showing miss Kang the paper she gave me a few days ago.

She smiles and not even the cold lights from the empty classroom we were in could take her warmth away.

"I won't ask why. I was actually more curious about your opinion on it, compared to the rest of the essays."

I look at her in exasperation, then at the damned piece of paper.

"It's good.... Actually, no, it's..." I sigh "It's more than good, it's amazing, it speaks so fluently and it shows so many feelings that the reader might even feel like part of it all, it takes you in, casting a spell on your mind and when you finish it, it spits you back to the reality and it just... breaks your heart..." I say, my voice cracking at the end, but miss Kang chooses to ignore it, nodding in agreement instead.

"I asked you to read this because the other judges and I have been thinking to give this essay the first place." She explains. "So what do you think?"

I feel tears stinging my eyes. Experiences that I have felt, things I have been through, put on paper, are getting the first place.

"I-I guess that's the best choice..."

"Aeri?"

I look at her and she smiles sadly.

"Do you know the other reason why I asked you to read this?" She asks softly and I shake my head. "It's because... I saw a small part of you in it, a tint of your writing style in it, a spark of your aura. Something... something that made me believe you'd connect with this better than anybody."

I turn my head away in order to wipe my tears away. The pain in my chest was almost suffocating and all I wanted to do was run home and cry my eyes dry under a blanket.

"I think I was right." She says and I sniff slightly, trying to ignore the effect that the essay has had over me.

And it wasn't just the essay. It was its owner as well.

I find myself walking towards the basketball pitch, hoping that I could find whoever I was looking for. If I was in love with Jaemin, my heart wouldn't hurt this much right now. If I had feelings for anybody else, I wouldn't feel like somebody ripped my chest open. How could I be wrong, how could I possibly be wrong, when I am so used to analyzing everybody around me and foresee all the possible cases? How could I lie to myself like this?

A basket ball rolls down to my feet and I pick it up, looking in front of me, only to be met with the sight of a mess of a fiery hair, staring back at me. I feel tears stinging my eyes and I step towards him, leaving only two steps between him and I. After inhaling deeply, I throw him the ball and he catches it perfectly, with his incontestable basketball skills. He dribbles it a few times and I could've sworn my heart was beating almost as loud as the thumps of the ball.

"Why did you write that?" I ask silently, trying to look into his eyes.

He wasn't confused. He knew all too well what I was talking about and that only made more tears gather behind my eyes. I knew I couldn't be wrong. Not this time. Not regarding this.

"I felt like it." He answers, shrugging and I feel like screaming, frustrated at the fact that he can control his emotions so well, unlike me.

"You felt like it? You f-felt like it, Chenle?" I let out a small whimper. "You wrote about all of that just because you felt like it?"

He shrugs and I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself. I was the wrong one and still I was the one asking for explanation from him when it should be the other way.

"I... Miss Kang asked me to read your essay because she thought it's the best one out of the whole competition. She asked me to grade it. I... I couldn't." I sigh. "Maybe I'm selfish to find myself in it so much but... I do? All the late night walks and evenings spent in fun fairs or reading comics on the floor of the library... we d-did that, didn't we? We did all of those, hell we did much more... w-why couldn't I understand earlier..."

"You confessed to Jaemin." He speaks and my eyes widen.

Of course Jaemin told him.

"There was... nothing to confess." I say softly. "I thought I had feelings for him, but... I guess you were right. It has never been him."

He looks at me and sighs, before diverting his gaze.

"Look, Aeri, it's really not my business, I shouldn't have said those things,but..." He sighs, shaking his head. "Thank you for reading my essay-..."

"Chenle!"

He looks at me, a little bit startled by my loud voice.

"A-All this time..." I start "it has been you." I sniff. "Not Jaemin, not Jem, not any other imaginary prince charming, not anybody else. It has always been just you. You... make me feel so happy and... and alive... I have always taken you for granted and realized how important you were to me just after you left... B-Because I'm freaking stupid a-and... all I know is to create scenarios in my head and drown in them until I can no longer tell what's fantasy and what's real."

He looks at me but I can't figure out his expression because of the amount of tears in my eyes.

"I am s-so sorry, Chenle." I try to say but my voice comes out as a whisper. “You have all t-the rights to hate m-me...”

"I wrote that because you inspire me to always do better and never give up on my dreams, you... you work so hard for yours and you..." he lets out a heavy breath. "You make me feel. Everything. I think... that's how I could write that essay, I was thinking about you the whole time. All the feelings that I put in it... you made me feel them. Aeri..."

I look at him, quickly wiping the tears that were rolling on my cheeks already.

"I'm in love with you."

I feel myself taking a deep breath and letting out the sobs that I have swallowed for so long. I feel two arms engulfing me into a warm hug and the familiar scent of soap and mint taking over my senses. I bury my head in Chenle's chest as he caresses my back gently as if I was a frightened cat. I wasn't far from being one though.

"Is it that bad?" He asks gently and I chuckle but it comes out more as a chocked sob and Chenle laughs.

Loud, bright, genuinely. Exactly how I love him.

"Okay gross, you're ruining his T-shirt, crybaby." I hear Hyuck saying behind me and my friends' laughter following after.

"You're next, fucker!" I say in a dry voice and Chenle laughs once again.

He was not perfect. He was far from being perfect. But somehow all the imperfections that were part of him made him be perfect in my eyes. He was more than what I deserved to get and I was more than thankful to the heavens for dragging him into my life. I had always tried to be perfect, to write, to act, to speak perfectly. But he has showed me that there's beauty in imperfection. There is perfection in imperfection.

And he is the living proof for that.

~The End~

A/N: It’s been SO long, I am so sorry! Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this lil story. Thank you so much for reading it, it really means a lot to me!♥ I would like to write short stories like this one in the future as well, what would you guys want to read about?

hailene x

#nct fanfic #NCT #nctdream #nct angst #jaemin #chenle #Jeno #renjun #JISUNG #kpop #highschool #haechan #donghyuck #fanfiction #angst #writer #au

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kjack89 · 5 years ago

Text

Remember When it Rained

Inspired by @deboracabral‘s incredible animation, which evoked so much softness from me that I knew I had to try to write it out. It’s an ill-fitting tribute for such incredible art, but it’s what I’ve got.

“Hey.”

Enjolras startled at the unexpected greeting and Grantaire raised his hands, laughing lightly. “Sorry,” he said. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” He crossed over to where Enjolras was leaning against the door, watching the rain fall steadily outside. “What are you doing up?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Enjolras said, taking a sip from the coffee mug he cradled in both hands.

Grantaire gave him a look. “I’m sure the caffeine at this time of night — or, well, morning, I guess — has absolutely nothing to do with that.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “It’s hot chocolate, but in case you forget, I used to be able to down coffee at all hours of the night and still get a full night’s sleep.”

Grantaire made a disbelieving noise and casually snatched the mug from Enjolras, taking a sip before informing him dryly, “Only if we’re counting a full night’s sleep as three hours now.”

For a moment, it looked like Enjolras might argue with that, but instead he just laughed lightly and took the mug back from Grantaire. “There’s more in the kitchen, you know,” he said, and Grantaire brightened, turning instantly to head back inside, clearly in search of a mug of his own. “And fine, you may have a point. But back in the day I used to actually be able to make it through on three hours of sleep.”

“Well, that and righteous fury,” Grantaire called from the kitchen, and Enjolras rolled his eyes again, though he couldn’t help but smile softly. “Besides, back in the day, I used to be able to survive on a lot less than that, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“How could I forget,” Enjolras murmured, staring out at the rain again.

Grantaire took up the position across from him, intentionally or otherwise mirroring his posture as they both stared at the rain, sipping their hot chocolate. “Do you ever miss it?” he asked suddenly, and Enjolras glanced over at him, startled.

“Miss what?”

Grantaire shrugged. “The good old days, I guess.”

Enjolras shrugged as well, his smile fading slightly. “I don’t know,” he said, after a long moment. “I don’t know if I’ve really thought about it much.”

Though Grantaire nodded, his expression darkened slightly. “I can’t help but think about it,” he said, his voice low. “Being back here…”

He trailed off and Enjolras nodded, staring down into his mug. “It’s been awhile,” he acknowledged. “Since we were in this house, and since—”

“Since we were both up at ass o’clock at night, watching the rain together?” Grantaire supplied, with a slightly wry smile. “Yeah. Exactly my point.” He ran his fingers lightly against the notches in the wood grain of the doorjamb. “I still can’t believe you’re selling this place.”

“I have no use for it,” Enjolras said quietly, but with a steely edge to his voice. “Besides, say what you will about the good old days but that’s never what this house was for me.”

Grantaire looked at him carefully. “Were there any happy memories for you here?”

Enjolras shook his head, looking out at the rain again. “I’m sure there were,” he said finally, after silence stretched between them. “But they’ve been overshadowed, by, y’know.”

“Yeah,” Grantaire said. “I know.”

Again, both men sipped their hot chocolate, and again, it was Grantaire who interrupted the quiet. “I always think of you when it rains,” he said, with a small smile.

Enjolras gave him a look. “If this is about to turn into some kind of metaphor—” he started warningly, and Grantaire just laughed and shook his head.

“No, it’s rather literal,” he said with another laugh. “Remember that night that we were at the Musain until, God, it must’ve been 3 o’clock in the morning at least?”

Enjolras shook his head, the corners of his mouth twitching toward a smile. “If memory serves, that was about every other week, so you’ll have to be more specific.”

Grantaire grinned, looking at Enjolras as if seeing him the way they were back then. “You were cramming for something — not for school, I don’t think, so some kind of protest, maybe? Or rally. You were trying to memorize a bunch of talking points but it wasn’t going well. You kept getting distracted.”

“And I’m certain you had absolutely nothing to do with that,” Enjolras said, just a little sourly, and Grantaire’s grin widened.

“Me? Perish the thought.” He took another sip of hot chocolate, staring off into the distance, the smile on his face turning fond. “God, you were so mad that you couldn’t get the statistics you were trying to memorize down. So you huffed that you might as well just go home and I, of course, magnanimously offered to walk you—”

“I’m sure there was nothing in it for you,” Enjolras muttered, and Grantaire ignored him.

“—And then about halfway back, it was like the sky opened. It started downpouring and there you were, hopping mad, in the middle of the street, absolutely drenched, your notecards turning to mush in your hands—”

Enjolras shook his head slowly, his eyes widening in recollection. “Oh my God, I forgot about that,” he said with a soft laugh. “There I was, soaking wet, and you had the nerve to start laughing at me.”

Grantaire laughed again, the bright sound even louder than usual in the quiet room. “Well, I couldn’t help myself,” he said, grinning. “You looked like a drowned rat. And then you actually squinted up at the sky as if you were about to fight Thor or Zeus or Mother Nature herself—”

“But instead, you kissed me.”

Grantaire half-smiled. “Yeah,” he said. “It might’ve been a bit of a cliche, but kissing you in the pouring rain was probably the best moment of my life to that point.”

Enjolras made a small noise of agreement as he sipped his hot chocolate. “I know you probably won’t believe me,” he said, “but it was one of the best moments of my life as well.”

“Really?” Grantaire asked mildly, though it looked like he was trying not to grin.

“Well, to that point anyway,” Enjolras said. “And pretty quickly usurped, if memory serves, by us stumbling back here and taking off all our clothes and—”

“And here I thought this place held no happy memories for you.”

Enjolras’s smile faded. “The only happy memories I ever had here were with you,” he said quietly. “You know that.”

Grantaire nodded, looking out at the rain again. “Yeah,” he said. “I guess I do.”

Enjolras examined him closely for a moment before asking. “You get why I need to sell it, right?”

“Of course,” Grantaire said instantly. “This hasn’t been your home in a very long time, and I know that.”

“But you still want me to hold on to it.”

Enjolras didn’t pitch it as a question and Grantaire sighed. “For as many unhappy memories as you may have here, all of my memories from here are happy. And I just — I don’t want to let go of that. Not yet.”

“Really.” Enjolras’s tone was incredulous. “Every memory you have here is a happy one. Really?”

“Well—”

“Including the one Christmas when my father told us to leave and never come back, that our ‘lifestyle’ wasn’t welcome under his roof?”

Enjolras’s voice was full of barely-restrained anger, even after all the years that had passed, and Grantaire shook his head. “Of course that wasn’t a happy memory, so to speak,” he said, “but the part afterwards, you have to admit, was pretty gratifying.”

“Which part?” Enjolras asked.

Grantaire grinned. “The part where you told him that we’d been enjoying our ‘lifestyle’ under his roof for months now, sometimes several times a day,” he said. “Mainly because I’ll never forget the look on your dad’s face.”

Even Enjolras had to smile slightly at that memory, even if his own smile was somewhat grim. “Ok, I’ll grant you that,” he allowed.

“Besides, it was the first time you ever fought for me.”

Enjolras frowned slightly at him. “What do you mean?” he asked.

Grantaire shrugged, looking a little embarrassed. “I never wanted to be one of your causes, and thankfully, you got that out of your system pretty quickly, but that moment — that was when I knew that you thought I was something worth fighting for. Not as a cause, but just because, well…”

He trailed off and Enjolras nodded slowly. “Because I loved you.”

“Yeah,” Grantaire said, draining his cup of hot chocolate. “That.”

He turned as if to head back inside but Enjolras caught his wrist, holding him in place. “You and I have a lot of history here,” he said quietly. “So I get why you don’t want me to sell my parent’s house. But it will always be their house. And the moments that you and I shared here—”

“I get it,” Grantaire said, but Enjolras shook his head and determinedly ignored the interruption.

“The moments that you and I shared here are just that, moments. But the life that you and I built together is not in this house. It’s in our home on the other side of the city, and in a thousand other places where we share so many more happy memories than the ones here, and me selling this house does nothing to take that away from us.” He reached out to twine his fingers with Grantaire’s, to lift Grantaire’s hand to his lips so he could press a kiss to the silver band Grantaire wore on his left ring finger, identical to the one on Enjolras’s. “I may have grown up in this house but the only growing that matters to me is the way you and I have grown together.”

Grantaire nodded, a small, soft smile lifting the corners of his mouth. “I know,” he said, leaning in to kiss Enjolras lightly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Enjolras let go of Grantaire’s hand to instead wrap an arm around Grantaire’s waist, pulling him close, and Grantaire rested his head lightly against Enjolras’s shoulder as they both watched the rain fall. “I still think we should find a way to bring it with us,” Grantaire said.

He didn’t need to look at Enjolras to feel the man roll his eyes. “We’re not bringing it with us,” Enjolras said dismissively.

“But since you’ve burned all your baby pictures, that growth chart notched in the doorjamb is the only proof I have that you were a child once,” Grantaire protested, with enough of a laugh in his voice to show he wasn’t serious.

Enjolras kissed the top of Grantaire’s head. “We’re not bringing it with us,” he repeated firmly.

“Fine,” Grantaire muttered. “Spoilsport.”

“But if it’ll make you feel better, come morning, I’ll let you take a picture of me with the stupid growth chart,” Enjolras continued, and Grantaire let out a happy gasp.

“Seriously? Hang on, I’m gonna get my phone before you change your mind.”

He thrust his empty mug into Enjolras’s hand and sped off, leaving Enjolras to splutter after him, “I said in the morning, not right now!”

Grantaire returned in what had to have been record time, beaming. “No, it has to be now,” he said, gesturing for Enjolras to pose next to the notches meticulously marked in the wood of the doorjamb along with the corresponding age he’d been at each mark. “Now is the perfect moment, with the rain in the background.”

“You and I have very different definitions of perfect,” Enjolras muttered, forcing a smile for the camera and blinking owlishly after the flash left him temporarily blinded.

“See?” Grantaire said, showing him the picture on his phone. “Perfect.”

Enjolras glanced critically at the picture, at his bedhead and rumpled clothes and slippers, at the bemused expression he wore in the picture and in the moment looking at it. “I’m not entirely sure I’d call it perfect—”

“Your last memory here,” Grantaire interrupted, with a soft smile on his face. “Now it’ll always be a happy one.”

Enjolras swallowed against the sudden emotion that welled in his chest. “Well,” he said, a little gruffly, “you’re not wrong about that.” He pulled Grantaire to him and kissed him again. “Thank you.”

“I love you,” Grantaire told him, and Enjolras kissed him once more.

“I know,” he said. “And I’m so glad we get to spend the rest of our lives making memories together.”

Grantaire’s grin was almost blinding as he whispered, “Sap.”

“Says the man who wanted to make my last memory here happy.”

“Fair enough,” Grantaire said, still grinning, and he took a step away from Enjolras and held out his hand expectantly. “Now c’mon. Let’s go back to bed.”

Enjolras didn’t hesitate, taking Grantaire’s hand and letting Grantaire pull him away from the doorway and the memories they had shared there, the rain still falling steadily as night faded slowly into morning, with new memories soon to follow.

#enjolras x grantaire #exr #enjoltaire #enjolras #grantaire #modern au #fanfiction #les miserables #that animation just made me very soft and a little melancholy but in a good way so i just word vomited sorry #they are soft and i am soft

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8makes1cheese · 5 years ago

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Mr. Handsome Stranger

Pairing: Yeosang X Reader

Tags: cursing, shitty attempts at comedy, fluff

Words: 1.7k

A/N: YAY my first fic! Go easy on me HEHehehe... ahem. ANyways, I hope it’s decent. The Ateez boys deserve more love and Atinys need more content dammit. Even if it’s my shitty writing hahahaHA. I promise to (try) to get better with my writing. Like seriously I feel like this is so shitty, but I’m having some blocks on ideas and having trouble starting stories. Also If I didn’t decide to just post this, nothing was going to be posted. ALSO, gotta give credit where credit is due of course, I got the inspiration for this story here. Well, enjoy?

"Okay, deep breathes. In and out. Inhale...exhale." I was currently parked curbside waiting for the time to hit noon. I had a job interview at my local library and was in the process of trying to psych myself up and calm my nerves at the same time. I glanced at the clock on my dashboard and it read 11:02 A.M. They like it when you show up early right? It shows that your punctual and responsible and shit. I rolled my eyes at myself. Why the hell did I show up so early?

I wanted this job so bad. Working at this library has always been a dream of mine. They also have never had an open position here for years. Sure, you could volunteer your time here, but it has always been the same women working here for more than a decade. One of the ladies is good friends with my mother and knew that I would jump at the chance to land a job at my favorite place in town. I sighed and looked at the clock again. 11:06. I whined to myself and turned the heater on in my car. If I wasn't going to woman up and get my ass out of this vehicle, I might as well get cozy since I seem to be too chicken shit to hang out in the building I've spent the majority of my life in. I know I could just go in and browse through the isles of books before my interview. All the librarians know me by name, I know all of theirs. Like my mother and Thalia, my mothers friend who works at the library, said when they told me about the job opening, I'm guaranteed to get it. But, I still have anxiety and it seems like one of my favorite things to do is worry and assume the worse. I wrapped my cardigan tighter around me and turned up my heater. It was definitely a cold one today. It wasn't raining just yet, but the sky was steely gray with storm clouds. It was pretty calming actually, my favorite weather was stormy weather and grabbing a hot chocolate from the neighboring cafe and snuggling up in the warm library was sounding so good right now. Yes, keep thinking that way, maybe it'll actually get you to get the hell out of this car. As I was convincing myself that a hot chocolate sounded perfect a car pulled up and parked behind me. I didn't pay much attention to it, at least not until the person who was driving the car got out of it. I herd the door slam shut and glanced at my side-view mirror. Well, shit. The man that had exited the car was probably one of the most beautiful men I had ever seen. His hair was light brown. Dark blonde? Light brown. Whatever, you know what I mean. He had on a silky looking dark brown button up tucked into black skinny jeans and a black suit jacket to complete the ensemble. A simple black string wrapped around his throat. Damn, he has no business looking that good. I chuckled to myself. Thirsty bitch. I watched as he pointed his key fob at his car to lock his door and started walking to my side of the car. Wonder where he- My eyes widened and my heart sped up for a second when he stopped at my car door. What is he...? He turned his body towards me and bent over slightly looking right into my car window. I started to freak out when I remembered. Wait, my windows are tinted... holy shit, he can't see me. I smirked, enjoying a better look at this handsome man. It seemed like he decided to stop and use my car window as a mirror to check himself out. I observed him as he straightened out his shirt and ran his fingers through is hair. Damn, he looks even better up close. He seemed to have a bit of a nervous air about him. Maybe an important meeting? Maybe a ...date? I was tempted to roll down the window and scare the pants off him. (Oh, Mister Handsome Stranger with no pants...okay (y/n) get your mind out of the gutter for once.) And so I did. The look he had was absolutely priceless when he noticed the window start to roll down. Shock and embarrassment were written all over his perfect face. I plastered on a giant grin as most of my face became visible. He opened and closed his mouth a few times like a fishy Adonis and before he could say anything, I somehow had the confidence to say, "Don't worry, you look really good. Honestly you are unnaturally beautiful for a man. Like, seriously, you're prettier than my sister; and trust me, she's so pretty that she got a acting gig for a commercial advertising medicine for genital warts.", but you know, I have absolutely no confidence in myself to get a job that I'm almost guaranteed to get. Mister Handsome Strangers face turned red and he started busting up laughing. Oh no, your laugh sounds as beautiful as you are. "Thank you, I think I should take that as a compliment?" He said through his laughter. Jesus Fucking Christ, your voice sounds even better. "Oh yeah, it's definitely a compliment." Once he caught his breath he cleared his throat he scratched the back of his neck. "I'm really sorry." he told me. "I had no idea someone was in the car- your car. I-I mean- I didn't know you were in..." he stuttered out. I chuckled as his cheeks became just a little pinker. "It's alright really. My windows are obviously tinted so nobody would be able to tell that I'm just sitting in my car being a creep." He slightly smiled at me. "Why are you just sitting in your car being a creep?" he asked. Is he really starting a conversation with me? I glanced at the clock on my dash. 11:14. "Oh. I'm sorry." He let out a nervous chuckle. "I'm probably keeping you from something, and also being a creep I guess just randomly asking why your in your own car. I should-" "NO! I-I mean, no, it's okay. I just have a job interview at the library at noon and I was just making sure I wasn't going to be late for it." I let out a small breathy laugh and rubbed my hands on the steering wheel. His shoulders looked like they lost most of their tension and he sent a small smile my way. "Well your awfully early. Don't want to make them think your too eager now do you?" I snorted. "Well I haven't even entered the building yet. I have to leave the car for them to think that now don't I?" He grinned at me. "I guess that's true." Your smile is giving me heart palpitations. I took a deep breath as discreetly as I could. Bad Idea. Holy shit, he smells like heaven. "SO STRANGER-" Dear Gods, could you have been any louder!? "Ahem- so, you look dressed for some sort of occasion." His eyes widened and he had the look like he just remembered something. "O-oh, right, I'm-" He coughed into his balled up fist. "I-uh I have a... blind date at noon." I raised my eyebrow at him then grinned. "Well your awfully early. Don't want to make them think your too eager now do you?" I could tell he tried to suppress a grin and he rolled his eyes. "Ah, but I haven't even entered the building. I have to be in the cafe for anyone to think that now don't I?" I laughed and he laughed along, when we both calmed down he told me that him and his blind date were actually supposed to meet at 11:00 but that she was running late and texted him before he left and that she'll be at the cafe a little before noon. He took his phone out of his pocket, glanced at it, and sighed. He looked almost.. disappointed. "I should probably head in, just in case she gets here a little early." I nodded a little too enthusiastically. Don't make your disappointment obvious. You have literally known this man for like 20 minutes. "Well, I hope you have a fantastic time on your date, who knows, maybe she'll be the one." I winked at him and immediately regretted it. By the Gods, why are you so lame. That was so damn cringey. My cringey-ness seemed to go over his head as he softly smiled at me and said, "And I hope you get this job. You're going to do great in the interview. Make sure to tell them about your sister that was in that genital warts commercial, you'll get the job for sure with that." This boy is making my cheeks hurt with all the smiling he's making me do. "I'll be sure to lead with that. It was nice to meet you..." He held his hand just outside my car window. "Yeosang." I took his hand in mine and softly shook it. I want to hold your hand forever. "Yeosang..I'm (y/n)." "(y/n)...it was a pleasure to meet you too." he said softly. My name sounds incredible coming from you, please say it again. He smiled at me and backed away, walking around my car to get to the sidewalk and making his way into the cafe that was neighbors with the library. I watched Yeosang enter the cafe and I took a deep breath. It wasn't often that I met someone that was literally perfect. I rested my head against the seats head rest (I mean that is what it is for right?) and closed my eyes for a moment. I couldn't believe I struck up a conversation (If you could even call it that.) with a random stranger. I don't do that. Why did I do that? I opened my eyes and looked at the clock. 11:34. If I have the confidence to do that, then dammit, I have the confidence to kill this interview. An interview that I'M GUARANTEED to kill in the first place, but still. I shut my car off and grabbed my phone and wallet from my center console. I exited the car and smiled at my future place of work. Alright, lets do this shit.

A/N pt2: spEAKING OF PT.2, I wanna do a pt. 2 to this? I’m still unsure of this story but I immediately had a idea of how to continue this as I was spell checking through it? So yeah. Hope you liked it <3 Anyone reading this, feel free to shoot me a request! I could always use new ideas and inspiration to keep me going. Have a good day/night~

#ateez #kang yeosang #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #kang yeosang x reader #yeosang x reader #ateez scenarios #yeosang au #ateez au #yeosang fluff #ateez fluff #ateez fanfiction #kang yeosang fic #kpop fanfiction #kpop fluff #it's been a while bear with me #pretty much just me going on about how perfect yeosang is #and he's not even my bias wtf

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superthiccthighssavelives · 5 years ago

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Give Me a Try Chapter 14

Surprise, surprise, Next chapter already! I made you all wait so long, I figured I would just post as I go along.instead of waiting at set times. Please enjoy.

@linseykalynn @alyss–in–wonderland @primaba11erina @autumnslovex

Chapter 14 - Excuses

I realize I was being irrational, crazy even. I mean, who has a fit over ice cream? I don’t know why he affects me so much, or why I keep running into him. It’s some weird, sick joke. Like I need another distraction, I need to focus. Yeah yeah yeah, I keep saying that don’t I?

I didn’t even look to see what I grabbed before I rushed off and threw my childish tantrum. Now I’m stuck with raspberry ripple, and goddamnit, I hate raspberry. I need to get this article finished, so I can get him off my mind, for good. And I did just that. The article, not the latter. Unfortunately.

I spent a few days busy at work, as usual, I asserted myself for once, and had a meeting with Noreen and Justin. I wanted them to know I appreciated everything they’ve done for me, and I am happy to continue, but I need to know that there’s room for me to grow. I ranted, raved, and pleaded my case for more meaty work. I knew being an intern, there wasn’t much of a guarantee in anything. They talked to Melanie, and she agreed to a meeting with me. Again, I went over everything, I practiced everything I wanted to say so many times in the mirror, I knew it by heart.

Melanie seemed impressed, she deemed my article regarding the play, and the interview, worthy of being published, and assigned me a probationary column, about art, lifestyle, small events. I could not have been more excited. It not only gave me a chance to show off my writing, but to be able to get out more and enjoy the culture and happenings around my neighborhood.

My weekends were finally a bit more relaxing. I took a walk down the street, to a cafe I’ve passed many times, it looked cozy enough to relax and get some work done, and scribble down some ideas and plan out some events to hit up.

I was enjoying some music filling up my ears, eating a bagel, scouring facebook and the local lifestyle paper for goings-on, jotting them down in my calendar, when my eyes met with his. Seriously? Is he stalking me? I thought maybe he came to find me about the article, but that isn’t out until next month, closer to the opening of the play.

I guess I should be glad he hasn’t come talk to me. I wonder why. I mean, I don’t know what I mean. His smile was distracting me, even if it wasn’t directed at me, but some fluttery girl babbling on to him. I got nosy, and had to take a pass by. She was asking him out. I tried to seem oblivious, still with my earbuds in, but the music had stopped. I felt a painful twist in my stomach hearing her speak and seeing the smile plastered on his face. I’m chalking it up to the cream cheese on the bagel. Or the coffee. Coffee never agreed with me.

I felt strange. I just wanted to bolt. I couldn’t be there. I made a detour back to my table and escaped as fast as I could. I didn’t want to stick around for the outcome.

My Saturday afternoon seemed a wash. I went home, and just sat on my futon staring at the wall. I don’t know why I feel like this. Yes I do. I just don’t want to admit it. I fought it with every single molecule inside me. I made excuses to myself, I’m probably going crazy. I needed some social interaction. I took a nap instead.

I felt slightly better when I woke up, I made myself a real meal, I took a shower, and without even thinking I was getting dressed for a night out. My neglected eyeshadow palettes were put to use. I almost didn’t recognize myself, I don’t know if that was a good or bad thing. I remembered a band with a cult following was playing tonight a few blocks away, besides enjoying some music, I could collect some article info. A few drinks wouldn’t hurt either.

The band was decent, typical alt-rock, nothing to write home about. I never considered myself a music snob, but I tended to sway toward the more obscure and unique. I threw back a couple drinks, jotted down my thoughts, and felt a strange loneliness. I looked at my phone, but realized I didn’t really have any friends here, or anywhere really. My friend in the states was so busy, we barely spoke. I don’t know if I could consider my work colleagues friends? Maybe. But I don’t think I could text them just to gossip.

I did chat with a few of the band’s fans, getting their thoughts and what they liked so much about them. They were sweet, and after a few minutes, I decided I'd hit my threshold for the night and carried myself back home.

I was hoping I’d be tired enough to sleep, but no dice. I picked up my abandoned sketch book and hoped for inspiration. The last thing I had attempted were hands. His hands. Sigh.

I spent the rest of the weekend watching old black and white movies, and eating too many snacks.

Having a column was pretty awesome, I’m not gonna lie, even if I haven’t had anything published yet. I was given enough freedom and time to get things together, so the lesser time making phone calls and yelling at people, the better. But that also freed up time to think more. Not so sure that was a good idea.

I ventured to a bookstore to see about finding some inspiration for my sketching. That would at least curb the thinking/feeling nonsense going on. All the books I needed were, of course, on the highest top shelf. I wasn’t tall by any means, and there was no ladder in sight, nor anyone to ask for help. I took it upon myself to do a little climbing, only the bottom shelf, standing on the very tips of my toes, my arm stretched as far as it would go, my short fingers trying to just reach a corner to pull it down.

I felt my legs start to shake, I was extending myself too much, I tried to clutch onto anything in my grasp. Before I could hit the floor, something, or someone, had caught me.

“Oh god, thank....” I shouldn’t be surprised, really. He must be stalking me.

“You.”

“Me.”

“Are you stalking me?”

He chuckled, shaking his head, obviously amused.

“Sweetheart, don’t flatter yourself.”

“Funny, I see you everywhere I go.”

“How do I know you’re not stalking me?”

My eyes rolled involuntarily. His smile was starting to get on my nerves.

“Sure, I have absolutely nothing better to do than follow a…” I didn’t want to finish the sentence, because I really had nothing to say. My annoyance had no reason, not really. His presence just gets to me, and he totally knows it. He’s so, so, so...UGH!

His eyebrows were raised, an expectant look on his face, waiting. “A what?”

I shook my head. My mouth was closed, my eyes just boring into his.

His gaze didn’t break either. It seemed like an eternity. The book I was so desperately reaching for was in his hands, tightly gripped.

“Can I please have that book?” I tried to use my most calm voice, even though inside I wanted to yet again, throw another tantrum.

“Only if you tell me what I apparently am, I am dying to know, come on then, out with it” He was definitely still entertained, his sly, irksome, stupid smile still spread across his face.

“Ugh! You’re so infuriating!” I couldn’t do this anymore, these feelings were getting stronger, and I wasn’t entirely sure if I wanted to choke him or throw myself at him. Maybe a little of both. The kiss flashed in my mind, and my eyes moved to his lips. I felt hot. I needed air. I couldn’t look away. My mouth watered. If I didn’t force myself out of here, this situation...I have to go.

I turned on my heel, attempting to just leave. I was caught by his hand gripping my arm. It set me on fire. Just that small touch. Fuck.

I turned, facing him again, unsure of what was about to happen.

He handed me the book, nodded and walked away.

Why did I feel so disappointed?

Chapter 1 - The London Underground

Chapter 2 - Theater

Chapter 3 - The Agenda

Chapter 4 - The Shoot

Chapter 5 - Back to Business

Chapter 5 ½ - Sketchy

Chapter 6 - Tired

Chapter 7 - Drinks

Chapter 8 - Temptation

Chapter 9 - Close®

Chapter 10 - The Interview

Chapter 11 - Strange Birds

Chapter 12 - Exhaustion

Chapter 13 - Mint Chocolate Chip

#Give me a try #taron egerton fic #taron x you #taron egerton imagine #taron egerton #taron egerton x reader #Self Insert #reader insert #fanfiction #fanfic #writing

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cyncity2000 · 5 years ago

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73 questions tag! tysm @goodlesson , can’t say i’ve ever had anything like this before but hey it’s not like I have anything better to do rn 😅

answers under the cut! i tag @rene-royale @teenager-confused-tired @sawafilmtoday @onedoesnotsimplystormthebastille if you feel like it, but no pressure bc this is a LOT and took me a couple days to finish lol

on a scale of 1-10, how excited are you about life right now? um. could be worse, could be better?? so 5.

describe yourself in a hashtag? no. twitter and all its shitty hashtags can go to hell.

if you could do a love scene with anyone, who would it be? weird question. nobody?? i wouldn’t want to??

if your life was a musical, what would the marquee say? not to be all dan smith on main but like...’come to this please’

what’s one thing people don’t know about you? uhhhh idk. i’m very open about most aspects of my personality i’d say

what’s your wake up ritual? stay in bed as long as possible and then YEET at maximum speed so i don’t waste the day

what’s your go to bed ritual? tell myself i should go to bed. pick up my phone instead. regret it in the morning.

what’s your favorite time of day? 2pm or 9-10pm

your go to for having a good laugh? macdoesit or drawfee videos on youtube. truly the best.

dream country to visit? i wanna go back to england and france, also i’d love to visit literally anywhere i could

what’s the biggest surprise you’ve ever had? falling in love with my college roommate probably,, didn’t see THAT coming

heels or flats/sneakers? bitch i’m 5′10″ with size 12.5 feet. converse.

vintage or new? vintage looks cool. i am not cool. so new.

who do you want to write your obituary? idk man i don’t wanna think about that now???

style icon? if you knew me irl you’d know style is not a word in my vocabulary

what are three things you cannot live without? my cat, my friends/gf, and my cd collection

what’s one ingredient you put in everything? i do not bake or cook, the real world is going to kill me immediately

what 3 people living or dead would you want to make dinner for? i’d be too stressed to make food for people but i’d love to like. go OUT for dinner with...dodie, dallon weekes, and pj liguori. they’re all just cool people i follow and i wanna know what they’re LIKE.

what’s your biggest fear in life? failure due to lack of confidence, motivation and direction in life :)))

window or aisle seat? i’d say window but i am long boi so aisle is usually nicer unless i trip someone by accident

what’s your current tv obsession? still supernatural, also brooklyn 99

favorite app? tumblr :D

secret talent? despite my crippling procrastination issues i’ve almost always been a straight-A student 🤷‍♀️

most adventurous thing you’ve ever done in your life? drove myself two hours to a concert in february, or maybe the time i did a really hard ropes course or went to the badlands?

how would you define yourself in three words? introverted, distracted, nerdy

favorite piece of clothing you own? maybe my waterparks sweatshirt bc i had a dream last night that i donated it and then went back to the store to buy it back lmao so subconsciously i must really like it

a must have clothing item that everyone should have? you gotta have that one pair of black jeans that goes with anything imo

a superpower you would want? flying. it’s the only recurring dream i’ve ever had and it’s my only answer ever

what’s inspiring you in life right now? all the people doing big or little things to help. the ones doing instagram lives or sending money or supplies to people in need or just giving me more faith in humanity

best piece of advice you’ve received? can’t remember any. why doesn’t anyone give me good advice

best advice you’d give your teenage self? do your laundry on time. don’t wear...whatever that was to school. just wash ur fuckin clothes. also don’t let it bother you that you’re single the whole time. you’ll get there.

a book everyone should read? they both die at the end by adam silvera. you WILL cry. but you will love it.

what would you like to be remembered for? i have no idea. being a non-shitty person at least.

how do you define beauty? happiness.

what do you love most about your body? idk being tall is kinda nice

best way to take a rest/decompress? get a blanket. comfy clothes. my cat. put headphones on. put some music on or watch youtube.

favorite place to view art? on tumblr and instagram! i follow soo many wonderful artists it’s great

if your life was a song, what would the title be? Oh No (What Is She Doing Now?)

if you could master one instrument, what would it be? piano or guitar. i suck at both and if i could be good at ONE i’d be happy

if you had a tattoo, where would it be? been thinking about this tbh. somewhere on my arm definitely but idk where D:

dolphins or koalas? dolphins!!

what’s your spirit animal? a cat?

best gift you’ve ever received? for christmas my sister bought me a cute lil box meant for displaying concert tickets and it was the most thoughtful thing ever. also the AMAZING studio headphones i’m currently using that my mom got me like three years ago for christmas

best gift you’ve given? probably when i bought me and my best friend tickets to see the Sherlock S4 finale in a movie theater

what’s your favorite board game? cards against humanity, one night ultimate werewolf/alien, settlers of catan

what’s your favorite color? porpleee 💜

least favorite color? hmm they’re all valid except for like. puke green.

diamond or pearls? neither lol

drugstore makeup or designer? neither 😜

blow-dry or air-dry? blow-dry but i never do bc it takes y e a r s

pilates or yoga? yoga!

coffee or tea? both but only hot tea or frozen coffee

what’s the weirdest word in the english language? thanks to tumblr the word ‘defenestrate’ has entered my vocabulary and I do not regret it

dark chocolate or milk chocolate? either. chocolate is chocolate 🍫

stairs or elevators? tbh stairs, i’m just a lazy bitch

summer or winter? winter. cold > hot

you are stuck on an island, you can pick one food to eat forever without getting tired of it, what would you eat? i’d still get tired of it :( i need that variety!!

a dessert you don’t like? none. dessert is dessert and it is all valid if i can eat it

a skill you’re working on mastering? writing, working from home, playing the guitar

best thing to happen to you today? currently watching mike gross play old brobecks tunes :’) he also just saw my comment yay

worst thing to happen to you today? i had cheesecake for lunch. sounds good but it’s the only thing i’ve had today besides a piece of chocolate and my body is Not Happy

best compliment you’ve ever received? someone on fanfiction dot net once left me a comment saying they’d almost cried at my story and called me “a true writer” and it’s honestly one of the only thing that keeps me writing...i’m still mad they weren’t signed in so I’ll never be able to thank them for it.

favorite smell? lemon, cookies, fresh-cut grass

hugs or kisses? hugs!!

if you made a documentary, would it be about? somethin gay probably

last piece of content you consumed that made you cry? honestly...probably “who the fuck is keith” fjadskljfd

lipstick or lipgloss? like peyton said chapstick is the only valid answer

sweet or savory? depends how i’m feelin, love both

girl crush? besides the obvious one (my girlfriend), honestly not many? there’s this one girl i follow on insta who’s big in the panic! fandom and jESUS SHE’S SO PRETTY. also the girl who plays kaia in supernatural is CUUUTE

how do you know you’re in love? has only happened to me once but for me...i already loved her platonically for months and then suddenly one day i was like oh. why am i getting the urge to kiss you rn. oh no.

a song you can listen to on repeat? anything by idkhow or bastille. never gets old.

if you could switch lives with someone for a day, who would it be? not to copy peyton but i would love to know what goes on inside my cat’s head

what are you most excited for about this time in your life? next semester of college!! i got into a super-competitive dorm and i’m gonna have my own room and live with nine other people and gahh i’m just so excited to be chaotic with all my friends again and meet new people :’)

#tag games #this was fun!!#many interesting q's here

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writers-hes · 5 years ago

Text

five years.

hello! here is the first part of a five part series called “five years”. it’s inspired by an article i read in the new york times. i really recommend/suggest you read it here.

five years -- year 0.

in which harry and you meet for the first time.

WARNING: unedited.

contains: fluff !

----------

“Danny!” Harry yelled as he saw one of his mates from his English classes. Harry was currently a psychology student, set to graduate in a few months. He was well known around the campus for being loud and kind to everyone. He was a part of humanitarian orgs and liked coffee a lot. He was usually hanging out at The Bean, a small coffee shop near uni. To him, The Bean was his second home. In fact, Angela, the pretty barista already knew his usual order. Harry tried to ask her out on a date and they went out for one date only to realise that it was weird, seeing as they treated each other like how siblings do.

“Hey, Harry! Nice to see you,” Danny greeted back. Danny was Harry’s classmate in a couple of his Psychology classes. He was tall and lanky. He had shiny black hair that he dyes every other month. He wore thick-rimmed glasses because of his bad vision. He was also Harry’s best friend in uni. He and Harry liked to study together because Danny always had the complete notes and Harry always had something else to say that would make the subject easier to understand fro Danny.

“I already ordered myself some coffee, by the way.” Harry said as he motioned to his glass tumbler. “You can go ahead and order something that you like I’ll wait out here,” he added. Danny nodded and walked towards Angela. He ordered two cups of coffee—one caramel latte and one homemade milk tea. He paid and waited for his orders and went back to his table with Harry.

“Uh, is someone else coming?” Harry asked as soon as he saw two reusable glasses of caffeine.

“Oh, yeah. I’m sorry I forgot to tell you, H. My friend is coming over. She’s a Lit major and she’s picking up some of the books she lent Zo,” Danny said. He laid the milk tea down and took out three books from his backpack, all collections of poetry from Charles Bukowksi, Oscar Wilde, and Ocean Vuong.

“So you buy her a drink, huh?” Harry teased, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Nah, not really. It was Zo who told me to buy her a drink,” Danny rolled his eyes. “He didn’t even give me some money for it,” he grumbled.

“Don’t worry, Dan. I’m sure you’ll get something else later!” Harry joked and laughed. Zo was Danny’s boyfriend for two years. He was also taking up Lit and met Danny through one of their English classes.

“Shut up, Harry!”

———

“Say, what time is Zo’s friend coming over?” Harry asked. It’s been forty-seven minutes since Danny arrived. The ice from the tea Danny got her condensed. Harry stared at the layer of water separated from the layer of milk and tea.

“Uh, not sure,” Danny said, looking up from his notes. “I told her that I’ll be here for the whole day and she said that she’ll be here after she’s done with her classes.” Harry nodded and went back to reading his notes. He wondered who could it be. Zo and Danny never really mentioned that friend…perhaps they were new? It’s not like Harry loved to be nosey—it’s because the milk tea was starting to deteriorate and it’s so damn annoying.

“So, are you letting her drink that?” he said, pointing at perfectly good drink forty five minutes ago.

“Don’t know. Might drink it myself. You can have it if you like, I’ll get her a new drink.” Just then, Danny’s phone let out a ‘ping’. “Ah, she’s outside. I’ll just text her to come in here,” Danny said, typing for a few seconds on his phone. The door opened seconds later and there was you.

You jogged on to where Danny was sat. “I’m sorry I made you wait, Dan! I had to stop by one of my professors to submit my classmates’ papers,” you breathed.

“It’s alright, misery,” Danny chuckled. “Oh, by the way! This is Harry,” he said, motioning Harry who was already looking at you. You smiled uncomfortably. “Harry, this is y/n, but Zo calls her ‘misery’,”

“Why did you submit your classmates’ papers?” Harry asked.

“Oh, I’m the beadle for my creative writing class,” you replied.

“Where are you going to next?” Danny asked.

“Oh, I’m going to Kismet to study,” you tell him.

“Kismet is closed, didn’t you hear? They’ve been doing some renovations. You should study here instead,” Harry interjected. “Besides, Danny got you a drink from Zo,”

“Oh, uh—is that okay?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry about him,” Danny replied. You take a seat beside Danny and in front of Harry.

“Thanks for the drink, by the way. I’m sorry I’m late,” you whispered to Danny while leaning on his shoulder. You took the cold glass of tea and mixed the water with what Danny really paid for. You took a sip and finished it in seconds, to avoid the tea getting more watery.

You loved to wear sweaters even on summers. You loved to have your hair tied up so your hair wouldn’t get in the way of your clear-rimmed glasses. You had poor eyesight and a bad back. You liked tea and coffee but loved hot cocoa the best. You’re the sweet day on a hot summer. You were welcoming and warm.

“By the way, it was nice meeting you, y/n.” Harry said from across the table.

———

Harry never really saw you after your encounter even though you saw him all the time. You just knew when he was near. He never left your mind ever since you met him at The Bean more than a week ago. You were always watching out for him and the possibility of him bumping into you and saying “hi” made you more alive than caffeine. What was with that curly haired boy?

“So, I heard Kismet is finally open…” Zo said. You just finished one of your classes together and had a four hour vacant.

“Ah, can we go there please? I miss my rose latte,” you pouted.

“It’s not even that good. You just order it because it makes you feel like a Tumblr girl,” Zo chuckled.

“Hey! Not true. I really like the taste! It’s not that sweet and not that strong either,” you retorted while bumping your sides with him.

“You know who would like it? Harry. You met him, yeah?”

“Yeah. I still feel a guilty for making him and Danny wait. Please tell them I’m sorry,” you pouted. Zo smiled at your sincerity. He knew that Harry and Danny didn’t mind—they were literally the most patient people he ever met. Well, not so much for Harry but he’s good enough.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the campus, Harry was rushing to get to one of his majors. He had his textbooks and iPad in hand while speed walking to the designated room. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he mumbled repeatedly. He couldn’t believe he didn’t notice the time. He was too busy catching up with some of his friends from high school who visited. He was zooming past the corridor when he heard a loud ‘hey’. He turned around and saw you with one of his dear friends, Zo, behind him. He lost balance and fell on his butt, his iPad and books lading on the floor.

“Harry!” Zo gasped as he jogged to Harry. “What happened?”

“Was rushing to my psych class and lost balance,” he huffed. You jogged towards the scene and started picking up what fell down.

“Here you go,” you smiled as you waited for Harry to get back up on his feet. He took his stuff from you. He was so red and you couldn’t help but chuckle a little.

“What are you laughing at?” he asked.

“You’re so red! Are you sure you’re alright?” you asked.

“Yeah…happens to me all the time,” he mutters. He looks at his wrist watch and sighed. “gotta go! Say hi to Danny for me, Zo! And it was nice seeing you again, y/n!” he said as he shuffled and power-walked to his next room.

Harry couldn’t believe it. Before he could even ask for your number, you saw him falling down like a wuss. How will you think he’s cool now? It’s not like he fell in a cool way. He groaned and slowly treaded in front of the class room. He entered and thanked the universe because the professor wasn’t there yet. He sat in his usual seat and opened his iPad and got his Pencil when he received a text from one of his mates, Louis.

Louis Tomlindaughter: oi! u wanna go down to niall’s for the viewing party?????

harry: Can’t. I have to study for a major exam tomorrow.

Louis Tomlindaughter: nerd! next time if you say no im gonna go there my fuckin self and drag u smh !

harry: Sorry. Maybe next time.

Louis Tomlindaughter: alright then but if u dont get a good grade in ur exam im gonna tell y/n how dumb u are ! hehehe 🤭

Louis knew that Harry had a crush on you. Right after he met you, he met up with Louis and Zayn for some burgers. He couldn’t stop gushing about how warm and nice you were. He didn’t stop talking about how you offered him half of your chocolate chip cookie. He also didn’t stop talking about how pretty you looked that time in your baggy sweater and clear-rimmed glasses. Louis never really knew you or bothered to. Zayn and you knew each other because you would aways see each other at Kismet. It seemed like you and Harry ran in the same social circle but you just never really met. He didn’t even wanna go to class anymore. He just wanted to go to you so you can finally talk to him without the interruption of academics. When you were at The Bean, you barely looked at each other, too busy studying and highlighting notes. He sighed.

Danny: hey are you going 2 niall’s viewing party l8r???

hairstyles: No. I have a major exam tomorrow.

Danny: u can study w zo! im leaving him alone tonight and u know how he is. he loves study dates because it makes him focus

hairstyles: Oh? Alright. I’ll text him.

cimmamom roll harry: Hey, Zo. I heard you’re studying tonight. Can I come?

Zo: SURE

cimmamom roll harry: Cool. What time and where?

Zo: KISMET AT 7PM !!!

cimmamom roll harry: Okay. See you then! x

Harry really wanted to go to Niall’s viewing party. It was the premier of Stranger Things 3 and he wanted nothing more that to watch it with his friends. However, time didn’t permit him because he had to study. He was so tired, only functioning when there’s caffeine around. The Bean was basically his second home and although he never tried it at Kismet because he was too afraid to try something new, he was looking forward to it.

7 p.m. came quickly and he was outside Kismet, a brown and white coffee place. The decorations were mostly made up of different wood and burlap. The accents were black and the paint was white. There were also little succulents and cactuses littering the shop from the windowsills to the high tables. He opened the door and heard the bells chime. He looked for Zo only to find you sitting at a brown solo couch. Harry decided to go to you first.

“Hey, y/n, right?”

You looked up from your textbook to find the curly haired boy that never seemed to leave your mind.

“Yeah. Hi, Harry,” you smile at him. It seemed like butterflies erupted in Harry’s stomach when you said his name. Your accent made his name sound better.

“Uh, are you going to study with Zo?” he asked. You noticed how slow he talked. He mumbled his words and his accent was thick.

“Well, I was supposed to. But he said he wouldn’t be able to go in the last minute,” you tell him.

“Is it alright if I study with you, then? Was supposed to study with Zo too but I suppose that’s not gonna happen tonight,” He was really hoping that you would say yes.

“Sure! No problem. Just lay your stuff on the table and I’ll watch you stuff while you order,” you tell him, motioning on the empty chair in front of you. Harry nodded and did what you told him too. he said thanks before leaving to get his order.

Zo: thnx me l8er harry ;)

Meanwhile, Harry was freaking out when he saw Zo’s text. He didn’t know he would be alone with you. Sure, Zo and Danny was doing him a favour and all that but—wait. How did Zo and Danny knew he was crushing on you?

“Hello! What may I get for you today?” a blue-haired girl asked Harry once he was in front of the cashier.

“Hi,” he looked at the girl’s name tag, “Rue. What are your crowd favourites here?”

“Well, we got a lot! We have rose latte, apricot tea with aloe vera, grape cheezo tea, brown sugar milk, condensed milk coffee, and ca phe sua. I personally like the brown sugar milk and rose latte. The rose latte is our signature drink,” Rue informed.

“I’ll have that, yeah. Large. I’ll also get two herb and and tomato linguine, please. With buttered bread and extra cheese, yeah?”

“That will be…5.50 for the latte and then…25 flat for the pasta.” Rue said. Harry handed his credit card to Rue and told her to take something for a tip. Rue declined, telling him that it was fine—he was also a student and he didn’t have to. He opted for some loose cash from his pockets instead and put it into the tip jar. Rue thanked him repeatedly before he left the station to go back to where you sat and wait for his orders.

“I hope you haven’t had dinner yet,” he said as soon as he settled himself on the comfy couch.

“Oh, no. Not yet, why?” you asked.

“Because I got you some pasta. It would be foolish of me to get two pastas of the same kind, yeah?”

“Well, maybe you really like the pasta. Who am I to judge?” you teased.

“Not really a pasta man. More of a steak man myself,” he mentioned.

“Ugh. I would kill for a steak right after the exams,” you told him. The past week, you have’t been eating full meals because of how busy you were. Caffeine and instant ramen was your go-to. if you were lucky, you would be able to make a quick stop to McDonald’s and get some nuggets.

Harry’s orders arrived soon after and you thanked him as he handed the red sauced pasta to you.

“So, what are you studying?” he asked you.

“Not really studying but our final project is to compare two complete different poets together,” you told him.

“Oh? Who did you pick?”

“Bukowski and Wilde. I really love Bukowski and he was my major influence in all of my poems,” you told him.

“I don’t really know him that much but I stumbled upon one of his works before. I think it was Into the Arms of Another? It had those words but I remembered liking it a lot,”

“Out of the Arm of One Love, you mean?” you corrected. “It’s actually one of his more famous works if I’m not mistaken but yeah, I love that poem too,”

“Who’s your favourite poet?” he asked you.

“I really love Virginia Wolfe, Maya Angelou, Ocean Vuong…but for me, Bukowski would always take the cake. The way he writes his poetry is so direct and sad. The emotions are very violent and I just really love him,” you gushed.

He smiled at you. What was with you that pulled him? Is it your intellect? Or is it because you were so damn beautiful?

“If it’s okay with you…can you show me more of his works?” he asked you. Harry surprised himself. He never really liked reading but he was suddenly so interested in what you were interested in. For you, the stranger he met two weeks ago, he was willing to read some poetry so he wouldn’t look like such a dummy. He never really liked changing for other people but what was with you?

“Yeah, of course! You can have my number. We can talk to each other there,” you told him. You wrote your number on a scrap paper and gave it to Harry. You surprised yourself. You never did this to other guys so what was with this lanky boy with good fashion taste? He took the paper from your hands and the soft touch of your skin to his was a shot of electricity between the both of you. You both immediately pulled away, shocked.

“Erm, yeah, thanks,” he muttered. you immediately go back to the books you were reading and he opening his psychology textbook. He fished for his pencil case inside his bag. He took his pink highlighter and started to highlight terms. You sat in awkward silence for a little bit but it soon turned into a peaceful silence. You may have talked less but you were enjoying each others’ company.

The cafe soon announced its last call. It was nearing midnight so you both packed up your things. You walked outside the cafe with him in silence.

“Hey, y/n?”

“Mmm…?”

“Where do you live? I’ll take you,” he told you.

“Oh, it’s fine. You don’t need to do anything,” you told him.

“I insist.”

You informed him your address and just like in the cafe, you walked in peaceful silence until you reach your building.

“Here I am,” you announced. “Thanks for the pasta, bye the way.”

“It’s nothing. Hey, you said you would kill for a steak after finals, right? Why don’t I take you out then?” he asked. You smiled at him and nodded. You hugged him and ran to your flat. What was with that curly haired boy with perfect posture?

Harry arrived at his soon after, wondering what the hell was with the girl with bad posture? You wore a pink sweater on your ‘study date’ so Harry painted his nails pink.

#harry #Harry Styles #harrystyles #harry styles fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfiic #fluff #college #styles #fluffy #first date #first meeting

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