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caesium-55 · 8 months ago

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—seven days. [ vi.iii ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

author's note: updating bc i love yall. lol jk i dont want to study for my engineering management long quiz yet. sum1 yell at me to start studying or smth.

tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @juky-ps @cassianswh0reeee @devotedlycrookeddonut @amberpanda99 @supermaxv1 @evie-119 @spideylovin @harianaswhore @formulaal

masterlist.

The Abu Dhabi Grand Prix 2021 is a little dramatic in Max’s opinion. Some would say controversial. A lot of restarts. The issue with the safety car. Hamilton and Verstappen goes neck to neck. 369.5 points to 369.5. In the end, Verstappen overtakes Hamilton and wins the 2021 World Drivers' Championship.

The team celebrates with him after winning and in the sea of Red Bull employees, Max searches for you.

He won! Max Verstappen won! He’s a WDC now! He finally made truth of the world he told you in 2019.

Kelly appears and kisses him square on the lips. Max sees you in his peripheral vision, pulling your ball cap lower on your face before turning around and leaving. He wants to call you but Kelly keeps him in place.

Max visits your hotel room later, all happy and he holds the canned bottle of beer to you when you open the door.

“I’m not the sour loser anymore.”

You smile at him and Max feels like he’s on top of the podium again.

“Told ya you’ll be champion one day. Congrats, champ. Very happy for you.”

Champ.

Max decides that he likes Champ over every name you call him.

2022

you: go to fucking sleep u degenerate gamer

you: its 3 in the morning you have a race at 8

max: youre not my mother

you: i am ur manager u ass

you: and i have ur mom’s cell no

you: i will fucking call her if ur stream doesn't turn offline in ten seconds

you: 10…

max: you wouldnt dare

you: 9…

He moves into a penthouse at the beginning of the year and purchases a jet, Dassault Falcon 900EX, to make the traveling easier. Flying commercial absolutely sucks, even first class.

When he mentions the money he spent; the penthouse rental cost, the price of the jet plus maintenance of the private plane service, you have stood up and went to the balcony to stare at the Monaco scenery to gather your thoughts. Max laughs as he watches your brain overheat. He tells security that you’re to be given an immediate pass into the building and his penthouse without the need of going through the strict security checks. He gives you a keycard that you barely use because you knock on the door every single time you come by. A month later, Kelly and Penelope move in and this is the beginning of the little family charade.

“What are you doing?”

“Is it not obvious?” you gesture to the iPad in your hand. “Readin’ a Lestappen fic in AO3.”

Max’s brows furrow.

“Lestappen?”

“The ship name between you and Charles. Lestappen. Leclerc, Verstappen, Lestappen,” you say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world and he’s stupid for even asking, waving your hand in a complicated flourish. “It’s good. Top-tier literature. Want me to send you the link?”

Max’s nose scrunches, “So there are people who ship me and Charles?”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Romantically?”

You nod, “Want the link?”

“Absolutely not.”

You shrug your shoulders.

“Your loss.”

Max wins P1 (as things should be) in Austin, Hamilton P2, and Leclerc P3. The team holds a private drinking party in the hotel bar. Max sits with Leclerc, whom he has invited, and Lando, who came with Daniel, and Daniel because he’s Daniel and he still gets a free pass in Red Bull parties even though he’s in McLaren now.

Daniel passes him a bottle of Heineken and Max searches for the bottle opener on the table but it's nowhere. He reaches for you, who sits on the neighboring table with the PR team. Max grabs the hem of your polo shirt sleeve and tugs slightly to get your attention. He opens his mouth to ask if you’ve seen the bottle opener but you got to moving, not even giving Max the chance to speak.

Without even interrupting your conversation with the PR people or even breaking eye contact with the person who is talking animatedly, you take the beer bottle from Max’s hand, toss a hand towel on top of it, then you use your teeth to remove the cap. It opens with a loud click. You wipe the rim of the bottle, pocketing the bottle cap, before returning the Heineken to Max.

Max looks at the Heineken bottle in his hand.

You know, Sophie, Max’s mother, always say that there's a certain type of intimacy existing when two people are able to communicate without the use of words. People associate intimacy with bare skins and basking in the fragility and vulnerability of a person, but intimacy goes deeper than mere nakedness and showing all the bare parts of you to the other person. Intimacy comes hand in hand with truth. When you admit your truth to the other person, that's intimacy. Her knowing his truth, his needs, without him telling her. That's another kind. If that's not the purest form of love then he does not know what is.

Charles pats his shoulder to pull him to reality.

At that moment, Max decides he’s an asshole because he just realized that he likes his manager after she opens his beer bottle and he has a fucking girlfriend now.

Max wins WDC for the second year in a row. Leclerc is at second and Perez at third. He’s on the top of the fucking world. Everything feels right now that he’s standing at the top.

His eyes search for you in the crowd but he doesn't find you. Only Kelly. He kisses Kelly, celebrates with the team, and visits you in your hotel room later with a cold can of beer in hand. It's a little past midnight, his watch tells him. You open the door seconds after Max knocks.

“Have you talked to Horner?” you ask, accepting the beer and opening it. The loud click when you open it feels satisfying in his ears.

You’ve changed out of the Red Bull polo now and instead, you wear a black shirt.

“No,” Max shakes his head.

“When will you?”

“Soon.”

That's the only truth he can offer. Because the bigger truth is this: Max doesn't want you going anywhere, not even the engineering team who works closely with him. He only wants you here, beside him, behind him, at all times.

One more year. One more year and he's going to tell Christian to move you to the engineering team. One more year to have you and he’ll let you go.

(That's what he told himself last year, too.)

“Okay,” you nod and it relieves Max that you’re not arguing with him about it. “Congrats, Champ.”

You don't fly with him to Monaco. You don't fly with the team either. Instead, you fly to Texas immediately straight from Abu Dhabi. Max calls you once in the middle of break to greet you happy holidays and you mail him his gift—a clay keychain figure of him. He adds it to his keys, sitting right next to the beaded keychain you gave him back in 2020 and a bottle opener keychain in 2021.

2023

“Should I break up with Kelly?”

Your head snaps up at a speed that should be considered a hazard, stunned. You give Max a look that can be translated as: Did the g-force finally catch up to your brain?

“What prompted this?” you question, slowly setting Max’s laptop aside. You’re working on fixing his laptop’s wifi connection while he’s getting his makeup done for the Heineken ad filming. Once the makeup artist deemed him done and left the room, he immediately took the chance to ask the question.

“Nothing,” he lies.

“I’ll throw away your laptop if you don't tell me the truth,” you threaten.

“It's just—” Max pauses. His mouth feels dry. He licks his lips before continuing, “It’s just… I don't know how to explain it. It feels like I don't love Kelly anymore.”

I think I love you, [Name].

“Aight,” you grab a monoblock chair and drag it until it's right beside Max’s chair and plop your ass down. You sigh deeply before your face schools into complete seriousness. “Can't believe I’m the one givin’ you this talk. Uh, Max, you see, in a relationship, you typically experience this period called the honeymoon phase.”

Max nods slowly. He doesn't know where you're trying to get at but he clings on each word that leaves your mouth.

“The honeymoon phase can last anywhere from months to years and when it's done, the strong feelings and infatuation you have for Kelly decreases and that's natural. This is the stage where your bond with Kelly is strengthened,” you explain. “It's not all sunshine and rainbows. It can get boring. But the love is still there. It's just…well, less intense than before.”

He wants to ask if this happened to you and Leo as well, but he bites his tongue and says a different thing instead, “You give advice like a relationship guru.”

“Baby, I have a long list of ex-lovers. Kelly’s your first girlfriend. You don't have a say.”

Your birthday is near. Daniel shares to Max that he’s buying you a new ball cap this year, signed by your favorite professional billiard player. Max needs to give you something better.

He thinks about the things you like. He makes a list. It's a short one.

Beer

A spot in the engineering team.

Your family

He cannot give number three. He cannot give what you already have. He can give you number two but he doesn't want to. He doesn't want you to be anything other than his manager. He can give you number one but it'll be very lame of him if he gives you beer for your birthday. What is better than Daniel’s gift? What would you like more than a ballcap?

Max calls his sister that evening.

“Shoes,” she says. “Oh wait, that's a little hard. You might get her shoe size wrong.”

“She’s size 7. In Euro, 37,” Max states a little too quickly and a little too sure.

“How did you know her shoe size?” Victoria wonders.

“I don't know. I just watch her feet?”

“So, you estimated her shoe size by watching her feet like a creep?”

“I watch her feet a normal amount, Victoria,” Max insists.

“Max, I can't even tell my husband’s shoe size even if I stare at his feet for hours.”

“Maybe you just suck at estimating measurements.”

Max ends up getting the shoes with Victoria’s help. Victoria gets too irritated with him midway because he is too indecisive. He thinks all the shoes that’s displayed do not suit you.

It's not even this difficult when he’s picking shoes to give Kelly. Normally, he just asks the saleswoman to show him the most expensive or the latest in their stock and he buys it, instructs the storespeople to wrap it up and make sure the brand shows because Kelly likes it when the brand is big and bright and attention-grabbing.

“If you think nothing’s pretty enough then go get a custom made shoe,” she advises and then sighs in exasperation. Victoria shakes her head at him. It's not supposed to be a serious suggestion but Max takes it to heart.

Instead of black, Max goes for white. You rarely go in white clothing but when you do, you become so beautiful that Max has to stop himself from kneeling down in front of you and risking everything.

It has pearls and diamonds and satin. All beautiful things that reminded Max of you. Max wants, no, needs to see you put them on. He’s the one who puts it in a box. White-colored with peach stickers and a peach-colored ribbon.

Max plans to give them to you after he wins the Miami Grand Prix. But your family arrives just as he’s about to retrieve it from his driver’s room.

Max meets your family. A family that consists of happy parents and three brothers. You are your family’s unica hija.

Julio [Last Name], your father, is a big man and his accent is thicker than yours and he doesn't call you by your name, only the most affectionate-sounding mija. He reminds Max of a giant teddy bear. A giant teddy bear who crushes rocks for a living.

Your mother, on the other hand, is a stern-looking woman. Sally, her name was. She’s short, compared to you and her sons and her husband.

You have three brothers. One older—you call him Damiano. Two younger—Rafael and Dominic. You are more your mother than your father, Max notices. Appearance-wise anyway. Damiano, too. Sharp-looking, both of you. Your sharpness makes you look charming whereas your Damiano’s sharpness makes him look intimidating. Your two younger brothers are carbon copies of your father, a little round and with kinder looking features.

“Papa, Mama, Bro one, two, and three, this is Max,” you introduce him, smiling widely and you're doing that smile where you’re showing too much gums and your eyes are shaped like crescents. Happiness looks good on you.

He lets out an oof sound when your father engulfs him in a hug. Max hears you exclaim: “Papa!”

Max laughs and waves his hand to tell you that the hug is fine and is very much welcomed.

“Congratulations, Maxwell!” Julio claps Max’s shoulders.

“Papa, please,” you shake your head at your father’s antics. “It's just Max.”

“Ya want to join us for [Name]’s birthday?” Julio invites. Max catches your eyes. You mouth a no but Max shrugs and says, “Sure.”

Max joins the family dinner. It's held in a Mexican restaurant somewhere downtown. Originally, your family reserved a table for ten. But Max has gone ahead and reserved the entire restaurant by paying upfront. You slap Max’s hand but Max laughs and says, “Happy Birthday [Name].”

Over dinner, Maxs learns that Rafael, Dominic, and Damiano are the biggest motosport fans so they all talk about Formula One and occasionally MotoGP. He finds out that they're a big fan of Marc Marquéz. Max tells them that he knows Marc personally and shares his experiences with the man. He promises to send them the man’s signatures. You tell him that he doesn't have to. He tells you that it's his pleasure.

Max listens in attentively as Julio narrates his amazing tales about his work experience. You laugh at the surprised Pikachu face Max makes when Julio is telling the entire table about the creepy call he responded to just the other month. You and your mother occasionally join in on the conversation but are more comfortable with listening to the boys.

Later, you stand up to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. Max stands from the table five minutes after you leave. He’s drunk too much soda so now he needs to take a piss.

“Are you okay?” Max asks as he catches you reapplying a layer of lipstick—a shade of nude rose—on the sink in front of the washroom.

You hold the lipstick in one hand but the other is holding your right arm, palm covering the word MANAGER printed on the sleeve of your Red Bull polo shirt like it's something to be ashamed about.

“Yeah.” A lie.

The rest of the night goes the way Max wants it. He almost wishes it won't end.

Kelly waits for him in his hotel room. She gives him a gift for winning P1. The shoe box in Max’s backpack remains untouched.

He’s got every country except Singapore, Saudi, and Azerbaijan under his belt. His third WDC is secure even if he loses Abu Dhabi, but Max is selfish. He still wants a P1 in Abu Dhabi so he fights and fights until no one can catch up because of how fast he was.

Kelly comes with him this time to watch him race and support him because it's the final race of the season and she also knows that Max is going to win WDC this year. P is over at her father right now so it's just the two of them.

“Babe!” Max looks up from his laptop. Kelly comes running in and Max’s eyes widened, horrified, when she sees that Kelly is holding it.

The white shoes.

Max stands abruptly. The laptop in his lap falls to the floor and shatters. He curses and crouches down to pick it up and save what he can save. When he looks up, Kelly is sitting on the bed now and is trying the shoes on. Max shoves the damaged laptop aside and strides towards her. He’ll deal with the laptop later.

“That's not—”

“Oh?” Kelly’s face morphs in confusion. “It doesn't fit.”

Kelly chuckles yet it sounds empty and dread pools in Max’s stomach.

“You bought me shoes many times already. There’s no way you’ll get my shoe size wrong.”

Max takes the shoes from her hand quickly and he puts them back carefully in the box.

“That's not for me,” Kelly states.

“It’s not for you,” Max echoes.

“Then who’s it for, Babe?”

Max doesn't answer. Instead, he avoids her gaze.

“Max Emilian Verstappen, who’s the shoes for?” Kelly is seething now.

For the first time in their two nearly three year long relationship, Max and Kelly get into a screaming argument. They get into arguments as all couples do, but never ones with screaming and crying and too much anger in one room.

“I can't go on like this anymore,” Kelly cries. “I can't. I let it go when you made me wait because you celebrated her birthday with her family. I let it go when you made her that crochet bag. I let it go when you bought a billiard table and brought it into our home because she likes playing billiards—”

“I tried breaking up with you!” Max roars and he sees Kelly flinch. “And you told me not to. You used Penelope so I wouldn't break up with you—”

“Do not even say my daughter's name—”

“It's true!” Max throws his hands in the air like a man gone mad. “I told you in fucking July that I think I’m losing feelings for you! You told me to not break up with you because Penelope already thinks of me as her father and it’ll break her heart if I kick you out of my house! I am NOT her father, Kel, her father’s Daniil! You only want me because I can give you everything you want! Money, pride, and a fucking father figure for your child!”

Kelly strikes his cheek. Sharp, fast, and strong. Max remains still in shock and stares ahead.

Kelly has officially become the second person in this world who has raised a hand at Max.

“I hate you,” Kelly utters it with so much intensity. “I hate you. We’re done.”

She leaves quickly.

Max’s phone buzzes.

you: hey champ. race is on in an hour n a half. u good to go?

max: yeah

max: i’ll be there soon

you: i’ll wait for u

max: you always do

Max races with the guilt that he's a cheating asshole. His mother will not be proud of it once she learns that her son has dated a girl and idiotically realized that he’s in love with his manager halfway through the relationship.

Despite the emotional turmoil that swirling inside him, Max takes P1 and becomes a third-time WDC. He celebrates with the team. You excuse yourself, saying you have something important to do, and Max doesn't bother asking you to stay because he knows he’ll visit you in your hotel room later with a cold can of beer. It’s become your ritual now.

He drinks with Daniel, Yuki, and Checo. Five bottles in, he spills everything. He pukes. It tastes disgusting. His world turns into a hazy blur. You came to his rescue because that's what you always do.

Max is so dumb for taking so long in realizing that he's in love with you. It's always been you. You and your dumb considerate attitude and your snarky personality and your crude mouth. He never realized how horrifyingly enormous his desire for you is until its right there in front of him with its mouth wide open, ready to swallow him whole.

you: landed

you: thanks for the jet

you: talk soon gotta get to papa 1st

max: ok

max: stay safe

max: your dad will be alright dont worry

you: i hope so

It has been seven days since the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, three days since you left Monaco, two days since your last conversation in Instagram, and a day before Max flies to Belgium to celebrate the holidays with his mother and sister and his sister’s family.

max: are you okay?

max: just landed in belgium

max: mum and vic says hi

max: hey it's been a week now

max: is your dad okay?

max: im worried

max: call me soon please

max: happy holidays

max: or merry christmas

max: whatever you celebrate there in america

max: yeah i greeted a little too early

max: you didn't answer my call

max: im friends with logan now by the way

max: we talk at times

max: im trying to get him into sim racing

max: maybe it'll help him improve

max: happy holidays

max: i called your cell

max: you know christian just told me something funny

max: he sent an email this morning with a list of candidates for my 2024 manager

max: he said you resigned

max: very funny

max: please tell me you didn't

#max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #f1 imagines #manager!reader #mv33 x reader #mv1 #mv1 x reader #mv33

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syntheticavenger · 1 month ago

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Mr. March (teaser)

Someone asked if I would ever write a Bucky spin off from Mr. July and after some thought (and a small window of time to myself) I was able to do it!

I'm calling it a teaser because I don't know how this will be received but if you like it, please let me know!

Alpha! Bucky Barnes x Omega! Female Reader

Word Count: 1.5K

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Language but pretty tame as it's world building.

Summary | Making fun of a friend for his new found fame is one thing, falling for a rule following librarian while balancing his own rise of attention is another.

Libraries have always been his little indulgence. He’ll never say it out loud – the stigma is enough for him to be laughed at and Bucky really doesn’t want to break any jaws. It was his comfort when his mother brought him and his sister to check out books, reading so many in a short time that his mother started to quiz him to make sure he wasn’t just flipping through the pages. He could get lost in books, transported to other worlds with a few sentences on a page, the long bookshelves going on for miles at a time, people around him engrossed in particular passages in the easy silence. Time seemed to slow in that space and when the world was moving too quickly, he found himself following the same path that he’d memorized as a child, opening the doors, the comfortable, soft hum of people just being settling around him.

Steve is off working his second job as the maintenance man in the building, a job that he finds helpful, because Steve has and always been a helper, even if it means he gets less sleep with always being on call. When he’s not working full time with his construction job and the other job on the side, he’s taking art classes, sketch books and pencils askew on the kitchen table – a welcome sight when Bucky gets home from work because it means that Steve finally has had some time to himself.

For now though, Bucky browses the fiction aisle, fingers running over the spines of books before he stops at a familiar author. It’s been years since he’s read this particular author, pulling the book out of its place. It’s a murder mystery, enough to pique his interest, flipping through a few pages to get the cadence and if it will hold his interest.

He’s five pages in when he closes it, tucking it under his arm, searching for another and then another before he’s got four books in his hands, maneuvering his way through the people who are doing the same, engrossed in a particular paragraph or flipping through the pages.

By the time he reaches the counter, he breathes a sigh of relief, almost embarrassed for the reprieve. A little calendar shoot for charity has been quietly building momentum, the radio station he regularly tunes into giving away five signed calendars, each one he remembers signing with Steve and the other ten that were featured. Being celebrated for just a designation is odd, something he knows is a privileged take seeing as he’s at the top of the hierarchy. Whatever it is, it’s enough to get him stopped in the grocery store, the local coffee shop that used to know his order by heart because the whispers became louder, the stares got bolder and while he’d be lying that he didn’t like the attention, the conversation of his physique got boring to talk about.

Besides, he got more fun out of seeing Steve turn bright red when people would recognize them. There’s something so innocent about a big, burly man blushing when he’s asked for his autograph.

“I can help you over here,” comes a voice to his right, breaking his thought of what Steve ordered for dinner.

He doesn’t have to get close to already nearly taste your scent – notes of caramel, peach and a hint of jasmine. But at the sight of you, he can’t help but blink twice at you, taking you all.

An Omega, unbothered by his presence, your stern expression and gaze at a loud teenage boy who is talking with his friend who instantly quiets down when he realizes you’re looking at him. It’s a commanding presence you have, something he doesn’t see too often with Omegas but there’s nothing wrong with being surprised.

Even in a place like this.

“Library card?” you ask, Bucky placing it in your hand.

With a quick swipe, he observes you reading the screen, a frown on your pretty mouth. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a bright red warning at the top.

“You have an overdue book, James,” you inform him, turning the monitor toward him. “It’s been out for over three years.”

He doesn’t miss a beat, knowing exactly where the book is. It’s still on his nightstand, a good read he’ll repeat at least one more time this year. He passed at least two more copies while he was looking for more books, so it isn’t like it’s the only one in the entire library.

“I can bring it back when I bring these back,” he counters, seeing you shake your head with authority.

“Library policy means we can’t let you check these out,” you answer, pulling the books toward you as he hears himself scoff loudly before he realizes what he’s done.

Still, he likes the candid reaction he gets from his audacity, your polished demeanor finally cracking. He knows it’s not the nicest thing to do, especially when you’re just doing your job but it’s refreshing to see an Omega sticking to her principles, even if he’s a little inconvenienced.

Or a lot, depending on if you’ll change your mind.

“You can’t be serious.”

Your frown tells him otherwise.

“Why can’t I? It’s policy,” you remind him.

“If it was such a big deal, why didn’t I get a notice? Three years have gone by for a twenty-year-old book that you clearly didn’t miss.”

Your mouth tightens at his response. It’s obvious you don’t agree with his reasoning.

“We sent notices and clearly they’ve been ignored. How you’ve been allowed to continue to check out books with this hold is beyond me.”

“Maybe I’ve been lucky with the other librarians.”

Your eyebrows furrow at his comment. It hits a nerve, your back straightening, his gaze on your sweater that gives him a perfect glance of your mating gland, unblemished and slightly covered when you shift to focus on him.

“Been,” you rush out, your hand on the stack of books. “As in past tense. I can’t let you check out any other books until you return that one.”

“So let me get this straight,” Bucky says with irritation laced in his tone, mostly surprised you haven’t cut him a break. “You want me to go home, search for a book that I’ve had for three years, bring it back so that I can borrow these.”

“As I’ve explained, yes.”

He wants to laugh, seeing your strained politeness as you swallow. It’s not nice to push your buttons, his mother taught him better than that but damn if he doesn’t like the way you’re struggling with losing your cool.

“Fine. Can you put a hold on those for me?”

It feels like a big imposition, the way you exhale slightly, your lips pursed as a few moments tick by. There’s still no one behind him so you have all the time in the world to make a decision. Quite honestly he would stand here for hours just with the back and forth. He’s never had someone match his energy and for the short amount of time he’s interacted with you, he realizes you must be new because he definitely would have noticed you before.

“I can hold them for a day. After that, they go back on the shelves.”

He shakes his head at your final offer, seeing your shoulders tense up, as if you’re waiting for an argument.

“You run a tight ship. Does Janet know you’re this strict?”

At the mention of Janet, the head librarian, you say nothing but he sees the quick glance behind your shoulder, the woman somewhere in the building. Not that he would tell her about this interaction.

It’ll be his little secret.

“Rules are rules, James. I don’t make them.”

Bucky straightens, running his tongue over his teeth, your mouth-watering scent enough of a consolation prize for him to return.

“I get it. You’re the enforcer. And it’s Bucky,” he says, holding his hand out for his library card.

For a moment, he can tell you’re frazzled, looking down at his palm in confusion. He can tell his scent has some sort of effect on you as he clears his throat.

“Did you need anything else?” you ask.

“My library card.”

Almost as if you’re shaken out of your stupor, his library card is slapped into his hand, turning your back on him as you place the books on the back counter with a note.

“I’ll be here tomorrow if you want to come to the counter,” you offer politely, Bucky placing the card in his wallet. “I hope you’re able to find the book.”

“It’s not lost,” he tells you casually, seeing your mouth part slightly in shock. “But I’ll be back tomorrow.”

He gives you a nod, moving away from the counter, your scent still lingering when he makes his way outside and back outside.

You may have called him James, but the note says Mr. March.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #a/b/o fic #alpha bucky barnes

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wileys-russo · 10 months ago

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childhood sweethearts (13) II a.russo x reader

playlist one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve

childhood sweethearts (13) II a.russo x reader

the next few weeks seemed to pass by in a blur and before you knew it you'd blinked and it was the end of the month already.

you and alessia went from only texting when you needed something to texting every day, and then calling most nights if you weren't together, speaking about everything and nothing for hours, stomachs often aching from how hard you'd make one another laugh.

you appreciated the way she seemed genuinely interested in your job, asking questions and listening along intently as you recounted your days.

it surprised you to learn that if she wasn't a footballer she might have pursued teaching, though some of the horror stories you'd spun her about your time at uni and on placement steered her well away from that.

your heart warmed seeing how good she was with the kids when she did the friday football program, well all of the arsenal girls were, and with the program a raging success an agreement had been made between the arsenal academy and the school to offer discounted holiday programs for during the break.

you'd gone to see every single one of her games since the last, alessia's heart bursting to see you sat up with her family every weekend with her jersey on and her last name across your shoulders cheering her on just like old times.

and you were even learning to actually enjoy the game, though thats not to say you still wouldn't groan and complain when alessia would flick on a premier league game to watch after dinner occasionally.

her brothers had relentlessly teased her for it but she brushed them off, trying not to take to heart the jokes that if she didn't lock you down soon someone else might beat her to it.

neither of you had dared to broach that conversation just yet.

her mum was thrilled to see how close the two of you had become again, her parents picking you up most games or taking you out for a drink with them all beforehand, and always inviting you to family dinners afterwards.

and in turn your own mum insisted on both of your families coming together again like old times, and it filled you with joy to see how much time she spent with carol once more.

with the short distance between both of your apartments it seemed to become a routine of sorts that every couple of days one of you would drop by to see the other.

nights were spent taking turns cooking for one another, watching movies or sometimes just talking for hours until you'd both realise the time and need to hurry back home.

alessia had been wanting to ask you to stay the night for a little while now, but not wanting to push things too early on and just enjoying your company in anyway she could she'd hold her tongue every time you'd start to pack your things back up to leave.

but you'd always be sure to walk one another home which inevitably ended in the two of you kissing goodnight, and unbeknownst to alessia every single time you did you had to hold your own tongue not to ask her to stay.

you were yet to put a label on anything, and most of your 'dates' seemed to consist of cosy nights in, nothing super fancy or high maintenance.

you'd not clocked any sort of issue with it either, having known the girl for years it seemed almost silly to even feel the need to go out, much preferring how comfortable the two of you were around one another now you were both clearly trying to get things back on track.

well you didn't see an issue, not until rory opened her mouth one afternoon.

"wait you've not gone out? watching movies together or cooking dinner isn't a date!" your best friend rolled her eyes from where she lounged on your bed, having come over to help you with your quarterly closet clean out.

"anything can be a date if its with the right person!" you argued, holding up a dress to your body as her eyes narrowed and she pointed to the keep pile. "maybe once you're actually dating, but last time i checked the two of you were still dancing around that big question!" you blushed a little at her words and threw a cardigan at her.

"oh this is cute! can i have this?" you chuckled but nodded as she dropped it into the 'rory' pile which you knew was mainly the only reason she'd offered her 'help'.

"but anyway. if its classed as a 'date' it needs to be a bit more than just the two of you lounging about one of your apartments, thats just hanging out and one could argue that would be something strictly platonic!" rory pointed as you sighed at her dramatics.

"we make out, thats not platonic." you shot back with a glare as she ooohed. "and do you braid each others hair and swap secrets too?" the girl cooed as you threw a heel at her head causing her to shriek.

"sorry ro and how many relationships have you been in? oh just one? shut up!" you flipped her off and turned back to your clothes. "okay if anything its because i am in a long term committed happy and healthy relationship i can call this behavior out." rory started, pushing herself to sit up more.

"the two of you are acting like a) just best friends hanging out, or b) an old married couple. neither of which i know you want to be! you're both in your early twenties you should be going out and spending time together doing fun stuff! not curled up watching the same movies you've loved since you were teenagers. at least go to the cinema and see something so you leave the house!" rory tossed a pillow at you which you side stepped.

"so what i should ask her out to do something then?" you asked with a small frown, playing with the sleeves of your hoodie, which was actually alessia's hoodie. "yes! do exactly that. not that i can really blame you for not wanting to go anywhere super public with her but theres loads of stuff you can do to get around that." rory shrugged.

"what do you mean you can't blame me for not wanting to go anywhere super public with her?" you questioned with an air of confusion. "well because she's a fucking celebrity you head case!" rory laughed at you.

that took you off guard as you paused your sorting, moving to take a seat on the edge of the bed with a frown. "well shes not really a celebrity, shes not like an actor or anything." you challenged more so for your own sake.

"please! elite athletes can be just as famous as actors or singers or whatever, if anything even more so because they're more relatable to the general public. for god sakes she's won the euros and made the finals of a world cup you idiot!" another pillow smacked you in the side of the head as you shot the girl a glare.

"she also does sponsorships, ads, she's a branded athlete with adidas, she has a management agency, she's on a professional contract with a huge salary no doubt, and she plays on a global stage for fucking england!" rory ticked off on her fingers with a scoff.

"well yeah but-" you fell quiet at that, head ticking over as it dawned on you that rory was right. "come on just look at her instagram! as if you don't notice the thousands of people obsessing over her." rory chuckled pulling out her phone.

"i hardly use it! case in point you have to text me to like your posts." you rolled your eyes as rory moved to lay down shoving her phone in your face.

"see? she's got like nearly a million followers and look at how many people interact with her posts. she probably gets like a hundrd dm's a day of randoms asking her out, maybe even from other celebrities!" rory laughed nudging her shoulder into you.

"see she met david fucking beckham and it looks like he's the fan in the picture!" rory gasped clicking into one of alessia's more recent posts.

you knew rory didn't mean anything bad by all of this but as you scrolled through the hundreds on hundreds of comments on alessia's posts you chest tightened with an uncomfortable anxiety you'd not felt before.

"god and then theres tiktok and twitter and whatever else. i liked one video about less and it took me days to get rid of the edits of her on my feed." rory shook her head with a grin, grabbing back her phone off you and switching apps.

"see?" she searched up alessias name on tiktok and your eyes widened even further as she scrolled through the hundreds of edits. "jesus christ she is a celebrity." you exhaled, pushing rorys phone away and collapsing onto your back, moving so your head rested on your best friends thigh.

"well duh, what did you think? she's that same little ten year old playing for the school team with all the boys?" "no! i hadn't really thought about it is all. to me she's just...well she's just alessia."

"and that is very sweet of you but also very naive. i don't know how i'd cope if jack was getting that many girls in his comments, thank god he's just a measly banker." rory joked but at her teasing words you felt a stabbing sensation at your chest.

"but hey what have you got to worry about? all they can do is wish, you've already got the girl." rory shrugged tapping on your forehead as you simply hummed, caught up in your head.

did you have nothing to worry about?

you looked up from the pan of vegetables you were frying off hearing a knock at your door, lowering the heat and quickly washing your hands.

"hi lessi." you greeted the blonde as you pulled open the door, stepping aside as she hurried in, the weather below zero this week as she shivered.

"hello, aren't you a sight for sore eyes." alessia sighed happily, your lips meeting sweetly as she pulled your body into hers. "mm no one more." the blonde grinned pecking your lips a few more times making you smile.

"dinners almost done. how was training?" you left her to unravel herself from her many layers as you returned to the kitchen, hearing her join you shortly after.

"this morning? yeah it was good! nutmegged leah like ten times, she was fuming." alessia grinned taking a seat at the bench. "thats when you kick it through someones legs right?" you asked, moving the sauce off the heat.

"sure is, look whose learning. maybe we can get you into a sunday league team next!" alessia winked teasingly as you playfully rolled your eyes. "yeah you'd love that wouldn't you." you grabbed her out a bottle of water from the fridge.

"then i had a shoot this afternoon for adidas, that was fun. i just get awkward in front of the camera but the photographer was really nice!" alessia shrugged casually, taking a long swig of water as you hummed, that weird feeling from yesterday returning as you tried to push it away.

"one to ten, how hungry?" you questioned, two bowls in front of you as you grabbed the rice, having made a stir fry.

"mmm like a six? had a late lunch, some meeting with some magazine about some article. luca said we probably won't go forward with it, they've got a reputation for twisting peoples words to create drama that isn't there." alessia recounted as you again only hummed, a slight frown on your face as you dished up.

"thank you gorgeous." the taller girl leaned in to kiss you in appreciation as you handed her the bowl, eyebrows furrowing a little as you turned your head so her lips met your cheek instead.

brushing it off assuming you were probably just tired after a long week she followed after you into the living room. "no!" you warned as she went to sit on the lounge, lowering herself instead to the floor with a roll of her eyes.

"it was one time." the blonde huffed with a pout as you handed her a small handful of napkins, having knocked over a bowl of soup all over your lounge last week. "one time was enough." you smiled taking a seat beside her.

"get a dining table then and we wouldn't have this problem." alessia pinched your cheek as you mocked her and flicked on the tv. "less!" you complained as she plucked the remote from your fingers, flipping channels.

"nooo." you groaned in realization as she put on a mens game, manchester united playing against some other team you didn't know, only recognising the familiar uniform of the russo's childhood team.

"yesss." alessia mocked happily, sighing as she placed a mouthful of stir fry in. "this is really really good, thank you baby." the girl kissed your cheek again as a comfortable silence fell between the two of you as you ate.

it was during this time that alessia picked up maybe there was something going on with you. normally you'd spend the entire game either making comments, asking questions, complaining about how long halves were or teasing her for 'yelling at the players like they can hear you'.

but long after the two of you had finished eating you were still quiet, eyes not even on the tv as you seemed a little lost in your own world. "hey." you snapped out of it as a warm hand squeezed your knee, looking up into a pair of concerned bright blue orbs.

"you alright?" alessia asked, hand still on your knee as you nodded. "i'm fine babe." you forced a tight lipped smile, gently pushing off her hand and grabbing your empty bowls. alessia watched you go with a frown, now almost certain something was going on for you.

initially she didn't want to force it out of you, but as you both sat up on the sofa now and you subtly shuffled a little further away from her alessia couldn't hold her tongue any longer.

"you don't want to finish it? they're up by two!" you frowned at her as she turned the tv off, turning her body to face you. "i know you said you're fine, but i can tell somethings up." alessia started, reaching out for you as you flinched away.

"see! have i done something?" the girl asked as worry flashed across her face and you shook your head. "no no its just-" you struggled to get out your words, groaning and dragging your hands down your face.

"fucking rory." you muttered cursing out your best friend for causing this swirling sea of doubt in your mind. "you're fucking rory?" alessia misunderstood, pulling her hands back with a frown as again you shook your head.

"no! god no, disgusting." you pulled a face of disgust as alessia breathed out in relief. "its not something you've done, well not...directly?" you winced as the frown returned to the strikers face. "i don't understand."

"okay, well can i ask you something?" "of course." "do you consider yourself a celebrity?"

"thats...a loaded question." alessia exhaled as she thought it over. "i don't personally think about myself in that way but i can see why i'd be perceived that way." alessia answered after a moment to contemplate.

"but why do you ask?" alessia asked both concerned and curious as to where this was coming from. "its stupid." you huffed, falling down onto your back as alessia grabbed your ankles, pulling your legs to rest over your lap, relaxing when you made no move to pull away.

"if its bothering you its not stupid, please." the striker requested softly as you sighed. "well rory was talking to me about how its weird we don't ever go out on dates, and then she made some comment about understanding why i wouldn't want to because you're a celebrity." you paused as alessia nodded for you to continue.

"then she showed me your instagram and tiktok and there was just so many comments and i promise i don't dismiss any of your achievements but i guess i never really took a moment to realise just how many other people appreciated them too." you frowned as everything rolled through your mind.

"see! its stupid. of course you're going to get thousands of comments and fans and edits, you're an international football superstar." you threw your hands up, cheeks burning up a little.

"you jealous of all the fangirls love?" alessia teased as insecurity flashed across your face and she quickly realised that was the wrong thing to say.

"hey no i'm sorry, look at me." soft hands grabbed yours and tugged you to sit up. "first of all, its not stupid." alessia promised sincerely, eyes not leaving yours.

"but it is something we have to speak about, and probably should have already spoken about." alessia sighed in realisation, taking your hands into hers again. "social media is...complicated. people think they know me or i owe them something just because im a public figure." alessia started with a frown.

"every little thing i post gets picked apart whether its of me, a holiday, a place, a friend, my family, anything. people find out which cafes i go to for coffee and show up there hoping to see me, follow me to restaurants when i post im out eating with friends, take sneaky videos when im out in public and post them. it can get very invasive and a lot of people have no concept of privacy or boundaries!" alessia warned as you nodded slowly.

"so i guess if we..." alessia gestured between the two of you with a wince as you nodded to show you understood what she was saying. "...then thats something you'll have to know is there. its not going away, if anything the more tournaments i play in, ads i do, sponsors i get, interviews, articles, club trophies, the attention and the fans and the eyes will grow." alessia spoke firmly, still keeping a hold on your hands.

"but i'm not trying to scare you, i just need you to know that its there. i would always do my best to protect you but some things are out of my hands and out of my control, i can't stop what people think, post, say, much as i wish i could." alessia sighed, bringing your hand up to her mouth to kiss your palm.

"please say something." alessia laughed but it was clearly full of nerves, her face falling as you gently pulled your hands out of hers. "its just, this is all very new. i know you're still you, but i guess the thought of having thousands of people all watching everything you do and picking it apart or obsessing over you and wanting you in comments is overwhelming." you admitted, biting your bottom lip as alessia nodded.

"i know. it overwhelms me too but i promise like you said i'm still me, none of this changes that. and if anything ever bothers you like this please just come talk to me about it, i will always listen." alessia promised, relief flooding her body as took her hands again.

"thank you. i'm sorry for being a downer!" you smiled apologetically as the blonde hurriedly shook her head. "never. but you also did raise another very good point!" alessia started as you tilted your head curiously.

"as much as i love our dinners and movies, we've not really been out on a proper date. so can i please take you out on friday night? i'll be at the school for the program anyway so we could go out right after or we could come back and get ready or we could-" you cut her off as you pressed your lips to hers, silencing her worried rambles.

"i'd love to go out on friday lessi."

"someones popular today." you bumped your shoulder into alessias as she broke away from your students who'd been clinging to her all afternoon, leah now running a game as she started to break them up into smaller groups.

"i like kids but i do not know how you deal with all the questions! an angel of patience." alessia sighed bumping you back with a smile. "just an angel in general." you teased, catching the girls eyes quickly flicker down to your lips momentarily.

"excuse me miss russo we are in a professional environment, behave yourself." you warned, kissing her cheek quickly when no one was looking and walking off to calm a small argument which had broken out over team names.

"saw that russo." the smile couldn't even be wiped off alessia's face at katies teasing, the irishwoman standing where you previously had as she poked and prodded at the younger girl.

"so when are you bringing your girlfriend to a team night out then?" katie sung out with a grin. "she's not my girlfriend." alessia sighed, smile dropping as katie frowned. "oh, well no one to blame but yourself there. i see the way she looks at you! smitten." the girl clapped her on the back.

"i want to its just, we've got a complicated history." alessia mumbled with a frown. "ah! who doesn't. all ya can do is not repeat past mistakes. i know none of my exes would turn up to a bar to come pick me up wasted out of nowhere!" katie reminded as alessia winced recalling that night.

"god don't remind me, never again." alessia exhaled with a shake of her head. "well then get your girl russo! you'll never know until ya ask." katie shrugged.

"we're going out tonight, i'm gonna take her to that little darts bar its pretty quiet and i think i freaked her out the other day with the whole thousands of fans thing." alessia then explained the conversation you'd had.

"mm yeah, not something i can offer ya any advice on there less. i've always dated the famous ones!" katie winked jokingly, jogging off as the whistle blew.

"did i hear darts bar tonight? i'll tell the girls!" alessia's head whipped around as beth stood behind her, racing off toward leah before alessia could say another word, the girl throwing her head back with a groan.

"alessia! you're on our team!" she was snapped out of it by small hands gripping at her shorts and shirt, tugging her onto the field as she met your eyes on the other side of the oval, a smile sent her way before you returned to your conversation with your coworker.

it wasn't for another hour that alessia was finally able to track you down alone again, and by this time beth had spread the word and the plan was made, far too late for alessia to say a word as katie gave her a sympathetic look.

"hey! can we talk for a second?" you looked up from speaking with chloe, wishing her a good weekend as she walked off and you nodded, gesturing for her to follow after you back into your classroom.

"did you drive here?" you asked as alessia took a seat on top of one of the desks as you started to pack up yours. "no leah gave me a lift."

"perfect, i'll drop you home and then we can get ready separately. i assume you'll want to drive tonight though?" you smiled teasingly, it being no surprise that alessia preferred to be the driver of the two of you.

"look about tonight-" alessia started, watching as you paused, worry flashing across your face for a moment. "i'm not cancelling." the blonde was quick to assure you as you visibly relaxed a litte.

"we just might need to change the plan? beth kind of overheard me talking to katie about it and then assumed it was a group thing and invited a bunch of the girls and its hardly a date if my entire team is there too and-" alessia started to ramble.

"less!" you cut her off as her face blushed red. "i don't mind if the others are there, really. i know you were excited to show me this place, maybe we could just get dinner somewhere else together and then meet them there later?" you suggested as her face lit up.

"yes! god your mind is brilliant." the striker pushed herself up off the desk, her body suddenly pressing yours against your own desk. "well they don't just pay me for my good looks here." you teased, again catching her eyes flicker down to your lips.

"we're still in a professional environment." alessia stated as if to remind herself more than you. "mm i guess i'm off the clock now, its after four." you grinned, hands falling to clasp either side of her face.

"you know i never thought i'd be kissing a teacher in a classroom." alessia tutted, lips curling into a smile as you let out a laugh. "didn't realise this was something you were into? didn't peg you as someone with a teacher kink." you teased, closing the gap between the two of you.

"only if the teacher is you." alessia mumbled against your lips, hands squeezing your hips as you let out a small laugh, pulling away and hugging her tightly, chin resting on her shoulder.

"i'm gonna miss when this program is over. next term its dancing instead of football!" you groaned quietly, feeling her body vibrate with laughter against yours.

"are you trying to dance with me right now?" you laughed as she started to sway the two of you back and forth. "yeah can't you hear the music? would be rude not to." alessia accused sarcastically, pulling you forward a little and taking your hand.

"i seem to remember you used to be a terrible dancer, two left feet." you grinned as she adjusted your hands, one interlocking with hers as the other rested on your hip, yours on the small of her back.

"hey thats not true!" alessia huffed, eyebrows furrowing in offence. "yes it was, remember when you tried to learn the tango to win a bet and-" you were cut off as her lips pressed against yours again. "we promised never to speak of that again." the girl warned mid kiss, starting to dance with you again.

"oh less!" you winced as suddenly she stepped on your foot, eyes widening as she let go of you and stepped back, but her foot catching on the desk she went flying to the ground.

like a domino effect as her body smacked into one of the desks it toppled over, taking down the entire row as alessia winced each time one hit the ground. a moment of silence passed before your body dropped down to the floor, clutching your stomach as waves of laughter ran through you.

"its not funny!" alessia groaned, though after a moment even she couldn't hold back her laughter, the two of you eventually laid down on the floor unable to stop, wiping away small tears which formed as you tried to calm down.

"oh wow, did your students do that?" alessia gasped as she looked up and saw the galaxy of stars all over the roof once the two of you finally calmed a little.

"no i did, makes it way easier to get them to calm down after lunch sometimes. i turn all the lights off and draw the blinds, then i get them all to pick a star and stand under it, close their eyes count to ten and make a wish for the future. works nearly every time!" you smiled fondly, alessia stealing a glance at you.

"its cool the school lets you decorate like this, i wish our classrooms were this colourful and lively. i might have actually paid attention!" alessia shrugged as you kicked her gently. "you did pay attention, just to my work so you could copy off of it." you poked her with a smirk.

"they give us some freedom just no budget, almost all of this is self funded." you explained as alessia's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "wait really?"

"yeah, a lot of the stuff needed to actually run a cohesive program isn't deemed as so. like name tags, the reading books, plants, most of the stationary, the posters, all bought by me. then activities like when we have snacks on movie days, end of term pizza parties, none of thats covered by the department either." you shrugged as if it was no big deal.

"wait so you personally buy all that stuff?" alessia asked in disbelief as you nodded. "well yeah, just because the department doesn't think these kids need this stuff doesn't mean they don't deserve it. a public school education shouldn't set them back on resources and opportunities compared to a private one just because of money, i like to think im doing my bit to mend the gap when i can." you looked back up to the ceiling with a smile.

"what was that for?" you laughed as alessia quickly pecked your lips. "because teachers deserve more money. but i can't help that so i figured a kiss was the next best thing!" alessia grinned cheekily as you grabbed her shirt, pulling her mouth back to meet yours again.

though as she pushed herself up and moved to hover over you, you leapt away from one another at the sound of someone clearing their throat.

but both of you sighed in relief as you realised it was only leah who stood with a smirk and a bunch of flowers in her hand. "sorry to interrupt. but less left these in my car and i wouldn't want to steal them from their rightful recipient." leah spoke as the striker hurried to her feet.

a silent conversation seeming to be had between the two blondes through a series of facial expressions alessia accepted the flowers and leah sent you a smile before leaving, closing the door after her.

"for you." alessia blushed bright red as you stood, accepting them with your own cheeks tinted rosy pink. "they're beautiful." you swooned, placing them on your desk and pulling her into a tight hug.

"well beautiful girls deserve beautiful things."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

fourteen

#alessia russo x reader #engwnt #alessia russo #woso community #woso imagine #woso blurbs #woso fanfics #woso #woso x reader

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jensettermandu · 5 months ago

Text

vampire - aeri uchinaga

genre; angst, fluff (not much), sfw

pairing; giselle x female reader

content; unhealthy relationship; poor communication, 'i can fix her' - aeri, 'hot and cold' - y/n, arguments, jealousy, and toxicity in general. 6th member of lsfm, 01' liner.

synopsis; aeri can't help but feel like she's in a relationship with a vampire the way her girlfriend bleeds her dry, but she also can't help but continue to feed into all of her whims and desires despite it feeling like she isn't getting a drop of blood back.

wc; 7.6k+

songs; big city blues - lil peep , risqué - cute is what we aim for , tragic girl - weezer , candles - juice wrld , your favourite dress - lil peep/lil tracy

masterlist

“I missed you,”

Aeri expected to hear the same words back, but she should have known better, however, Y/n was impossible to read most of the time. It had been over a year yet Aeri felt like she was at times still on the same page as when she first talked to the girl.

Y/N was impossible to learn because she changed more than the weather. Her girlfriend was hard to love, but even harder to understand for anyone, yet Aeri was putting her whole heart on the line and would always take a leap of faith for Y/n. There was no transparency to her, but there were cracks at times.

It wasn’t Y/n that messed up, but Aeri saying these words of affection after longing for someone she viewed as her other half. She shouldn’t have said that she had been longing after her. It wasn’t even metaphorical; a wall dropped down between them and Y/n was no longer in her arms.

“Yeah well, you wouldn’t miss me so much if you decided to spend more time with me.”

She forgot how cold the nights could get at times, especially when they weren’t in each other’s arms. The days ran busy and nights were used to suffice exhaustion and she knew that she had spent less time with her girlfriend. Y/n was high-maintenance as her friends had told her; Y/n’s friends included.

It didn’t help that they both lived in dorms and it did limit them at times.

Y/n was also hot and cold.

Their meetings felt almost like secret affairs which Y/n would complain about now and then. The quiet–in Aeri’s opinion serene and intimate–rendezvous after dark with just them and no one else around as they would walk along the sidewalks, talking, gazing, sharing a bond and intimacy.

The wind somewhat howled as it blew from the corner of the apartment building’s rounding. Aeri had yet to move as she watched Y/n’s slim figure walking away from her, the only small light being the one from the girl’s phone.

How much sacrifice was love worth?

Aeri wasn’t going to put a limit now; she was ready to go until she dropped dead with no heart left to keep her alive because Y/n had consumed it all; blood and flesh because she was aware of how selfish the girl could be. She could hand her her heart, but Y/n would grab her whole and rip her to shreds to fulfil her hunger; with Aeri possibly getting something back.

It didn’t end there because Y/n would then spit her right back out.

It was what she wanted in the end; for Y/n to just want her too, no matter how she wanted her as long as she did even if the girl didn’t want her after.

Could she blame Y/n? No. She was aware that her girlfriend had been through a lot, that it all led to walls being put up and that whenever something was off the smallest amount; new walls dropped. Aeri was willing to sacrifice for her love; she was stuck with the mentality of being able to help Y/n.

One step forward could at times mean ten steps backwards though.

It had been a long day, she should have been back in the dorm, sleeping, they were still promoting their new album. Aeri was drained as it was, but she was offering herself for Y/n’s sake.

“Y/n, I’m not in the mood to run after you tonight.” Her tone was somewhere between pleading yet firm, walking a thin line because she knew what the wrong type of tone led to.

“As if I could expect that from you.” She barely caught it and shoved her hands into her pants pockets, refusing to follow.

Her eyes stuck on the girl who was taking long yet languid steps, dressed in a black skirt, ripped tights, white tank top with a zip-up that was sliding down her shoulder. Aeri’s zip-up hoodie as she stood in just her t-shirt after giving it to Y/n.

How long did she stand still? Fighting the urge so she wouldn’t run after Y/n like she always did. It was as if something was pulling her after the girl, perhaps the invincible collar that Y/n had on her while at the same time, she tried to fight against its every tug.

She remembered what truly had pulled her towards the girl, to begin with, and what tied her to Y/n. It was physical attraction when she first saw her, then came the attraction after seeing how similar they were in interests to aesthetics and at last, she spoke to the girl and realised that she would fall.

She did.

Aeri walked right after Y/n because she wasn’t going to limit her love for the girl. There was no love without pain, right? Y/n was worth getting hurt for, she was sure that she could mend what was shattered inside her girlfriend, but it would only be possible if she followed her even if it was blindly.

“Okay wait.” She gave in at last as she took a few long strides towards her girlfriend, slipping her hand into Y/n’s. Maybe those constant texts and calls weren’t enough throughout the days; she could do more than text and call.

Her fingers intertwined with Y/n’s who looked at her with her piercing gaze, the one that devoured Aeri from the outside. However, it would eat long enough until she was consumed whole.

“I wanna take you on a date, I have a day off Monday.” She could make it up, she always did even if she wasn’t sure if there was much she had to make up for. Aeri would still do it for Y/n. It wasn’t like she could do much about her schedule, but there was always a way to give more than she already had.

She refused to let Y/n slip through her fingers.

The wall was still there and she knew that she needed to make up for it to come back down. Y/n would be distant, it would be cold, again, until those icebergs melted.

Y/n looked uninterested, her eyes vacant and Aeri always tried to occupy them. To fit into Y/n’s gaze, to reflect in her eyes and to feel seen. At times she wondered if Y/n’s heart at least sped up at times because of her, if it was even beating to begin with. How did someone manage to be so cold yet magnetise like a warm fire?

She reached her hand up to the girl’s face as the wind blew, fixing the loose strands of layered hair. “Fine–” She pursed her lips as Y/n moved her face away and dropped her hand. It did ache, it did make a fear run across her spine; how much did she mess up this time? When would she pushed away far enough by Y/n to lose her? Why was she always so apprehensive around Y/n? “I still want to go home, I’m tired.”

What had it been? 30 minutes since they met up? Aeri spent more time getting to the place together with getting back than she had spent with her girlfriend. It was still worth it. Those 30 minutes with Y/n were worth it. She had grown to realise that it was better to take whatever she got at times.

She had missed the girl in the end after the distance between them due to work.

“Y/n,” Aeri started as they stood face to face, Y/n’s gaze didn’t falter while hers had to wander away every three seconds. “I’m sorry, I promise to make it up to you.”

“I know. You promise each time.”

She swallowed down the heaviness of not being able to take care of Y/n like she wanted to and always tried to. She was only able to speculate what could be going through Y/n’s head at the moment or ever for that matter. It felt like she had never been let inside; it wasn’t a feeling, it was the truth. That was why she clutched the small crumbs dearly.

“I’m for real this time.”

“I’m aware.”

An awkwardness fell upon her, knowing that she made more promises than she could handle. She at times had to cancel because of work. She still made up every time, yet every time it still got distant from Y/n’s side.

“Are you mad?”

“No.” That meant yes, she knew that much about her girlfriend. Aeri would say that she was thankful that Y/n’s manager pulled over by the curb, saving her from any more opportunities to mess up again.

She couldn’t just let her go like that, “I love you,” she reminded and for a moment she hesitated. Aeri leaned in and got the cheek turned to her which she settled for. “Yeah, love you.” The words felt thrown and she was fully aware that Y/n was mad at her despite all her efforts to see her amidst her busy schedule as the car drove off.

“Awh, that’s so cute.” Yunjin cooed, being quicker to the gift by Y/n’s makeup spot than the girl herself. The other girl walked around Yunjin and took her seat in the makeup chair as the green room was starting to crowd.

A cute black bat plushie, Y/n rolled her eyes, her hands reached for the small envelope stuck to it together with a blood-red rose. She opened it, somewhat already expecting what would be said. Aeri often sent her gifts, but the older tended to send them more often on these occasions.

‘I’m packed today, but I fixed everything for you, I will call you when I get home. Love you <3’

Aeri’s care was overwhelming and Y/n couldn’t figure out if she was overcaring, overdoing it just to fool her or if it was out of genuine care and love. It only filled up the balloon of anxiety and distrust towards her girlfriend instead of doing the opposite for Y/n. What were her intentions? People always had ulterior motives, didn’t they? Was anyone just nice to be nice?

Y/n knew what love was.

“What did it say?” Yunjin’s curiosity never subsided as she found herself more nosy than Y/n would deem acceptable.

“The same.” She mumbled, haphazardly handing the note to her side and the girl beside her took it.

“I think it’s the thought that counts, she could have just sent a text.”

Why would Aeri go out of her way? It only made Y/n run more leery.

It wasn’t the same words every time, but each time she wouldn’t be able to talk throughout the days she sent gifts and other things. Was it to make up for it? Y/n had no clue.

Y/n would prefer a short text over the care.

She reached for the plushie and looked over her shoulder at the glimpse of a shadow that passed them. “Eunchae–” The girl was cut short by Yunjin who grabbed hold of the plushie, catching the rose that was about to fall.

“No, you can’t just give it away.” She clicked her tongue and grabbed the stuff, the note included before she turned around and handed it over to a passing manager who would bring it to the car.

Yunjin was close with Aeri; she was the one who gave her Y/n’s number and was there when they first met as it was disguised as a casual hangout. She was the one who without Y/n’s knowledge possibly slipped up and mentioned that Y/n was high maintenance, but would also draw back despite wanting care. It was an accident. All in all, she was always there for Y/n as her friend.

“It’s only a matter of time until she retreats and leaves me to grasp for crumbs. It’s always the same.” Y/n muttered, looking over her nails, trying not to give into the overwhelming emotions that continued to fill the balloon every day. There was a reason to let Aeri close, but not too close, too close meant that she could hurt her if she let all the walls down.

“Why not talk to her about it then?” Y/n’s eyes moved up and looked in the mirror at Sakura’s voice who sat down on the chair beside her. They carefully moved to Yunjin for reassurance of what she thought about those words, but all she got was an unfortunate nod of agreement.

“About what?”

“Your insecurities, fears, the fact that you’ve had terrible experiences with your previous partners.” Yunjin started to list the things, not beating around the bush, however, her tone held genuine care and compassion to try and help her friend.

“So she can use it against me?” Was the first thing that came to Y/n’s mind at the suggestion, making the two older girls share a look; it wasn’t as easy as they wished it was. Y/n too wished it was easier, but when she found warmth and comfort behind cold walls, it was hard to let them down. If something happened before, what reassured her that it wouldn’t happen again?

Just because it was Aeri, didn’t mean that it couldn’t happen. Y/n was aware that she could never completely know someone; never 100% and that she would always have to trust her for her words. The issue was that Y/n couldn’t do that; trust gestures or words.

“Why would she do that?” Sakura genuinely questioned and Y/n got up from her seat at the call of her manager about food; yet another gesture of Aeri to make sure that she ate.

“I already regret telling any of you anything at all.” The girl honestly spoke as the help only got overwhelming because it left her in more conflict.

“That’s not very nice of you.” She pushed past Yunjin, ignoring her further complaints about being hurt as she grabbed Kazuha to eat with her instead.

Not let Aeri close enough to hurt her.

Aeri sighed and tossed her phone to the side, trying to figure out what she did wrong this time. At this point, she was close to believing that she possibly sent the wrong type of food to the girl. It was ridiculous and she was painfully aware of it yet she did nothing about it, but continued trying.

She couldn’t help the fact that she cared, being fully aware that Y/n wanted her to care even if it left her misled because of how Y/n also pushed her away.

The darkness in her room was lit up as she got a notification and she blindly reached for her phone.

: stuck at practice, let’s talk later

: ok, lemme know when you’re back

: Love you, take care and don’t push yourself too far

She watched as the message was read, but she got nothing sent back which elicited a groan from between her lips. The guessing game was impossible to win; did Y/n want her to care or not? Did she want an ‘I love you’ or not? If she did and Aeri didn’t send it to her she would grow cold, but if she didn’t want it and she still sent it, Aeri felt like a fool.

This was the girlfriend she wanted, this was the girlfriend she fed her every drop of blood to the way she sucked her dry and left her with no energy.

With the phone resting on her chest she stared at the dark ceiling, it was nearing midnight and all she wanted to do was talk on the phone with Y/n until she would doze off. All she wanted to do was make sure that Y/n wasn’t overworking herself and that she was fine, but she didn’t want to be too much at the moment. Aeri figured that Y/n needed her space after the staleness that grew after they saw each other.

In the end, guessing was all that she could do.

She was snapped out of it when the door opened, saving her from the overthinking that always turned melancholic.

Y/n learned that she could probably stare at the messages with her girlfriends for hours as she waited for an answer. It was past midnight and she was in the car with Chaewon who she had stayed behind with.

It had been a good ten minutes since she texted Aeri.

She didn’t have the time to reply earlier; at least that was her excuse to make herself seem less cold. It left her guilty otherwise because she did care, but how did she show that without having to be vulnerable? Without having to let her girlfriend closer?

Ten minutes of waiting for an answer.

Ten minutes too long.

She left the chat and opened her socials. The girl sunk into her seat, biting the nail of her thumb as she felt that green garden growing inside her. Aeri wasn’t obliged to be live on Instagram with Minjeong, ignoring her texts or at least not answering them. She didn’t like feeling jealous, it always made her melt into a miserable puddle that had no clue how to express it because of the susceptibility it made her feel.

She hated that one person was able to affect her this much. That one person was able to hurt her at any moment. That something this small could affect her at times.

At least an answer would make her feel better, but Aeri seemed too busy with her friend. Was it because she had accidentally let Aeri past too many walls? Her fingers wouldn’t be trembling from overwhelming emotions if she had kept her at arm's length. It meant that she had let her closer than she dared.

Grief turned to anger and Y/n could only blame herself for being vulnerable enough to get hurt by this. To get hurt in the first place.

Aeri knew that she was in shambles when Y/n hadn’t replied to her texts, she replied exactly 15 minutes later, and all her calls had led to the automated voicemail. She had gone to bed, barely able to sleep, without any goodnight or I love you, and there hadn’t been any answers in the morning either.

Her last hope had been Yunjin. Her schedule had come to an end at around 7 P.M. With still no answer from her girlfriend, she called Yunjin. Even though it wasn’t the first time that she had been ignored for hours, it still left her worried each time.

It somewhat irked Aeri to hear that Y/n had been at the company building the whole day and didn’t have more than the practice that ended at noon. It irked her that she had been ignoring Aeri without letting her know why, all she knew was that she somehow messed up. How? When? What was it? What did she do? She had to guess, again.

What irked her the most after her call with Yunjin was that Y/n was with Kazuha.

She wouldn’t have minded if she had at least gotten a single reply.

It wasn’t something she could help, but she had always been the slightest bit jealous when it came to Kazuha. Oh how much she hated it, to be jealous of someone who was Y/n’s group member. However, she felt like she had every right to hate it and be pissed about the proximity of Y/n and Kazuha’s relationship.

What was she angry about while sitting in the back of the car? That green mixed with red, angry about how the girl was always there when Aeri messed up and was always the one comforting her girlfriend. Someone had to, that someone should be Aeri, but instead, whenever she wanted to apologise, make up for it, and be there for Y/n…Kazuha was somehow always already there, witnessing Aeri at her worst while soothing Y/n, making it look like she only knew how to hurt and mess up.

Far from the truth. She hoped. Aeri had managed to grow insecure as their relationship progressed; regressed would be a better term.

What hurt the most was that deep down she was aware that Y/n possibly didn’t trust her enough to find comfort in her.

All she wanted was for Y/n to open up to her. All she got was drained while watching her girlfriend open up to someone else about the problems of their relationship, but never to her. She had tried to bring them up, but it had always been a one-sided conversation.

“Does she think that I’m enough? I get shut out when I mess up, I get shut out when she opens up…I’m honestly so confused at times.” Aeri frowned, unsure where she got the urge to suddenly start spilling out her feelings to Yunjin. There had been a heavy feeling in her chest, she wanted to be perfect for Y/n, to care for her and love her.

“I’m not even sure how I messed up this time.” She somewhat exclaimed in exhaustion, her voice leaving that timid whisper-like tone, with her arms gesturing outwards before falling to her sides.

Aeri sighed to gather herself and not get too emotional, knowing well that Y/n and love were a sensitive topic for her because she loved her so much that she couldn’t love more. It was frustrating enough that she couldn’t show it in any more ways.

She stared at the metal doors of the elevator they were in and looked to her side as Yunjin squeezed her shoulder to comfort her.

“I don’t think it’s that.” Yunjin shortly replied, sounding like she may had an idea what it would be.

Aeri raised her eyebrows in question at the words. Yunjin looked off to the side at the numbers that went up about to reach the floor. She clicked her tongue and heaved a sigh–probably not in the position to make statements–she knew what it was in the end.

“It’s not because you mess up that she distances herself—” Yunjin started and took the first steps towards the doors that had slid open as she quietly finished, “it’s because you don’t.”

Aeri has put up with it, she had been standing in Y/n’s burning home despite being far from fireproof. She put up with the pain for Y/n, willing to stand in what was her home that was burning; Y/n’s whole world was on fire. Aeri wanted to put it out and help her see that just because the inside of a home was up in flames: it didn’t mean that everything outside of it was burning to the ground too.

It seemed to have a different outcome and her not messing up, showing how much love there was, only made the fire ablaze and out of control.

She wasn’t going to stop though.

A long pause came—a silence that no one breached for the next few seconds—when Yunjin opened the door to the room where Y/n was. Kazuha included of course.

Jealousy bubbled inside her, Aeri never wanted to be that type, but it was impossible when it came to Y/n. The small couch was occupied by the two, Y/n’s legs thrown over Kazuha’s and they barely made an effort to look at them until Yunjin called for the younger.

She felt stupid, but her heart knew what it felt and why it hurt, why it made her feel sick. She had too many feelings for Y/n to not feel like a part of her would rot every time she got jealous. It was ugly in the end, but she couldn’t help it when she saw someone she tried everything for open up within seconds to someone who wasn’t her.

She bunched up the material of her jacket as she watched Y/n lift her head from Kazuha’s shoulder who unwrapped her arms from around her waist. Her eyes fell on Y/n who was already looking back at her and amongst all this, at least her presence was acknowledged and not ignored, Aeri already felt foolish enough.

The door closed after they left and Y/n leaned back on the couch, crossing her legs as she looked at her nails while picking at them. She knew what was wrong, she knew that Aeri would show up at some point, however, she had hoped that she wouldn’t because it would be easier to stay upset. To blame her for something (anything) and push her away for it even if Y/n had wanted nothing more than to spend a day with the girl who sat down on the other end of the couch.

Arms distance was still better, wasn’t it?

“Why do you treat me like–” Aeri started but stopped, her lips pursed and she took in a breath, deciding to consider her words first. With a sigh she averted her gaze towards her girlfriend, barely being able to feel her presence because of the walls that the girl had put between them.

Was she supposed to get on her knees and beg for forgiveness? Was Aeri supposed to let Y/n tug her closer by the collar she had on her like always? To give in the way she always did. She had been patient for so long and nothing was working, the only thing she wanted was for it to work. It wouldn’t, not if she kept avoiding everything wrong for Y/n’s sake if she ignored it because Y/n didn’t want to ever talk about it.

She had been doing everything for the girl, but nothing for their relationship to actually work out like it should.

“I don’t like how close you two are at times,” Aeri admitted, deciding to be truthful, to be open about the ugliness that didn’t have to be there if they only talked about it.

She for the first time in the one year they had been together brought up a problem without beating around the bush; Y/n always ran away from all problems, especially if she tried to talk about them and it made Aeri look like a terrible person.

“It was fine for you to be all over Minjeong on live though, I wasn’t comfortable with that.” In contrast to Aeri’s calm tone, Y/n spat venom at her. She could see the walls growing taller by the second as it started right after she brought it up. It was always the same, nothing changed yet it always hurt no matter how used she was to it.

“I wasn’t all over her, plus we were live, obviously I will be a bit closer and you know it yourself Y/n. We are in the same industry.” Her fingers threaded through her hair, sighing at the emotions that were bubbling inside her chest. “What I don’t understand is why you would be so close to her when no cameras or fans are watching. I get it, but there is a limit even between friends.” In the end, Aeri wouldn’t mind, but it was a bit too much for her to be comfortable with it.

It could be mistaken; Kazuha could be mistaken for Y/n’s girlfriend and Aeri for her friend.

Y/n could feel the walls closing in on her, she had always found comfort in the walls she put up. These walls were ones that Aeri was pushing past and it was all closing in on her, leaving her with no room to breathe. All she needed was a way out before it would become overwhelming and she would be unable to breathe. Aeri was getting too close–arm's length, she was past that–and Y/n wanted to run, but her feet were stuck to the ground.

“Maybe because my girlfriend doesn’t have the time to give me what I need. I needed to talk to you, I wanted to be with you—” All her defences went up as she tried her best to crawl into her shell of safety in case Aeri managed to crumble her walls. “You were too busy being on a live you weren’t obliged to be part of.” The girl scoffed out, in disbelief.

Y/n hated how gently the girl was doing it, that she wasn’t wrecking them like everyone else had always done. All those times her walls were forcefully broken down and she was wrecked together with those walls. Why couldn’t Aeri wreck all her walls and her like the rest? Why couldn’t she hurt her and be familiar?

It made red lights go off in Y/n’s head as she stood up from the couch. One thing in mind: Aeri was coming in softly and would wreck her, ruin her worse than anyone else had managed to do because she would have Y/n in her arms when doing it. She would get close enough for it to hurt more than anyone had been able to hurt her because she would be on the inside.

Love had turned into logic for Y/n; this was like a trojan horse.

“You were too busy taking care of someone else, someone who you see every day.”

“I’m always there for you though, I just happened to be away from my phone for a few minutes and you made it a big deal.” She reasoned, watching the girl anxiously pull on the sleeves of her sweater. Even if the girl was a closed and locked book, Aeri could read Y/n when it came to certain things. She took her time to analyse the small details on the outside and the tiny peeks she got on the inside.

Enough to know that everything was burning on the inside. Enough to know that Y/n was doing everything to turn it around and make it easier for herself to push away Aeri again.

“Why do you invalidate my feelings, Aeri? You don’t know what I felt or what I feel and when I try to tell you about it, you say it’s the opposite.”

And she knew enough to know that it would start draining her again. Aeri didn’t want to fight with Y/n so she caved before she even managed to start. She felt like Y/n’s marionette, however, she was fully aware of how she was controlled and bent to her master’s every whim and desires.

“Hey–” She clicked her tongue and grabbed hold of Y/n’s hand, gently pulling the girl over to her. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like your feelings aren’t valid, they are and always will be.” It came with ease, to give into Y/n came naturally to her as she pulled the girl to sit down beside her on the couch. “I shouldn’t have said that.” She continued, being okay with being wrong as long as Y/n was there.

Y/n couldn’t determine whether or not she liked that Aeri gave in the way she did. She expected her to fight, to drill on until Y/n couldn’t defend herself until she was destroyed. No matter how much her mind told her to run, her heart melted as she got pulled into a hug. It was an embrace she had always needed from someone who was more than a friend, even if it was scary it was comforting.

It was hard to distinguish whether it was excitement or fear that she felt at the moment, but she loved the feeling. She loved Aeri.

Aeri rested her chin on Y/n’s shoulder, pulling her closer at the tickling feeling of the girl’s breath hitting her neck who ended up in her lap, sitting sideways. Her eyes glanced down and she intertwined her fingers with Y/n’s, caressing the smooth skin with the tenderness she had for her. This was all she wanted.

“I love you, Y/n.” She reminded her that all that she did in the end was love and care for her.

It followed with a small silence as she stared ahead at the empty wall, she wasn’t worried because she knew where Y/n’s heart lay. Not necessarily fully in her hands, but she could touch it with her fingertips and feel its pulse.

“I love you,” Y/n loved her even if she had yet to fully trust her.

Aeri lifted her chin as Y/n pulled back and she looked up at the girl in her lap, her hand caressing the small of her back. It was these moments where there were cracks in Y/n’s walls and it made Aeri’s heart speed up at the vulnerability she could see in Y/n’s eyes. It sped up because of the relief knowing it was possible to delicately get past those walls, but it also sped up in fear; knowing it was only a matter of time before that one step forward would end up with ten steps back.

She untangled her fingers and moved her hand over to Y/n’s face who this time didn’t pull away, but leaned in as she pushed aside her hair before cradling her cheek in her palm. Their eyes met, Y/n’s fingers fiddled with the baby hairs at her nape, her arms loosely around her shoulders.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?” She asked, not wanting to feel her chest tighten at the girl turning her cheek again. Her eyes glanced down at the full lips, the girl’s tongue coming out and poking at the corner of her glossy lips.

A mere ghost brushed past her lips when Y/n leaned closer before letting Aeri close the little space left between them. Y/n couldn’t deny that she loved how Aeri kissed her, how she held her, how she took care of her, and how tender and filled with love it all was. She loved how it made her heart go into a crescendo.

Yet Aeri cared too much—she had always been caring and it wasn’t obnoxiously so, but giving an abused dog a treat won't make it trust the person, it won’t probably touch it in fear that it is used to deceive to be able to hurt it after. It made the treat it so much wanted turn obnoxious.

She traced patterns over her back as they pulled away, fingers playing with Y/n’s hair as she admired her face from close, missing her girlfriend because she never felt like she truly got her. That distance strained them and made it difficult to stay warm in the cold.

“I just want this to work out.” It was a small whisper as if saying it too loud would harm them, but it harmed everything anyway. She could feel the mood shift in how Y/n’s body got less relaxed in her hold.

“It is working out, there’s no need to bring it up,” Y/n argued, liking it when they were like this. When they were in a spot where she could have Aeri right there whenever she wanted, but also put space between them whenever she wanted. It had worked so far; at least Y/n liked to think it did because it worked for her.

She wasn’t selfish enough to not notice that it was only working in her favour, that Aeri always gave in while suffering. However, she had been selfish enough to keep at it; to fill her needs and then disappear when Aeri offered a bit too much and she knew that she had to give something in return. To let her guard down.

“You’re choosing ignorance, Y/n. I don’t want that.” It was hurting Y/n as much as it did Aeri who didn’t want the girl to hurt when they chose ignorance. Aeri frowned and Y/n was slipping through her fingers again and the heat turned into cold as the girl moved away from her. She watched Y/n who placed her head in her palms, elbows resting on her knees while she took deep breaths.

“Why can’t you just choose to be ignorant for once too?” She wasn’t taken aback when Y/n snapped at her. The warmth was gone from her eyes and they were once again filled with that vacancy and anger to this time.

She knew where this was heading. ‘It’s not because you mess up that she distances herself, it’s because you don’t.’ She was aware of how Y/n always twisted everything until Aeri was stuck in a corner where she could only mess up because of the pressure of being put in that situation, to begin with. It was draining her; how long could she take this? How long could she put up with it out of pure love?

“Why do you always have to make things so complicated for no reason?” Her girlfriend continued as she looked at Aeri in disbelief.

It hurt when she only wanted the best for Y/n, for them, but maybe she didn’t know what the best was.

“I’m doing it for a reason, I’m doing it because I care about you, I love you and want the best for you, for us and we can’t have that if—”

Y/n stood up in frustration, cutting her girlfriend off, and not letting her finish. She didn’t know what to do with all that love and care she received so all that she could think of was to turn it away; to block it out. It made everything crawl inside her out of fear and Aeri did everything but understand that.

“What do you want me to do?” The girl exclaimed, turning around and gesturing with her arms that then fell to her sides with a thud. The anxiety was filling the room from the heaving breaths for air, from the way she paced and tugged at her clothes; nothing was helping her grasp reality as the thoughts were getting too overwhelming. “I can’t help that I don’t want to jump into your open arms no matter how much reassurance of a safe fall I get. It doesn’t work like that, Aeri.”

Aeri’s love and care were overwhelming and Y/n hated that she couldn’t appreciate it the way it should be appreciated. She loved that she got it, but hated it once it lasted a second too long because she felt how it slowly melted everything she had built over the years.

It had been a year of Aeri standing with open arms. Her world felt like it was falling apart, but her desire and love for Y/n stayed strong and it was the only thing keeping her together. Trying to save Y/n was killing her and soon enough it would be too late and she would fall into Y/n’s burning world and end up just like the girl.

Love was worth the sacrifice.

“It doesn’t work like this either!” Her voice went up and she never raised it, Aeri never could when it came to the girl in front of her, but she was desperate. Her hands clutched onto the material of her jeans as she stared up at Y/n with tears in her eyes. It was frustrating as she was trying everything and kept being proven over and over that there was nothing she could do.

Yet it wasn’t enough to stop her from trying.

“I get that it can be hard to trust someone, Y/n.” She calmed her tone, huffing as she leaned back against the couch and took in a deep breath to stop the uncomfortable prickling in her nose. When did it get so frustrating? Has it always been this draining to be with Y/n? But she loved her. How hard could love get at this point?

It went silent aside from Y/n’s anxious pacing, which was anxiety-inducing for Aeri, it was silent. Aeri stared down at her lap and she could feel how the tears were floating in her eyes. She was ready to start grieving the loss of someone who she still had; she had already started crying because she knew that she lost Y/n once again.

All she wanted was Y/n. Her fingers were restless as she pulled on the material of her bottoms, pouting, pursing her lips, huffing, blinking, swallowing (with pain), and clearing her throat. She was doing everything to not cry; it would only scare Y/n away further, wouldn’t it? To show that she meant so much that she could make Aeri cry.

She could suppress it; just for Y/n.

She could fix it. Fix them, fix Y/n, fix herself, and overall fix everything. There was a lot of fixing, but there was still enough left of her to do it, she could use whatever energy she had even if it would end with her collapsing from exhaustion. She would give her every drop for Y/n.

“But why can’t we just try to make it work.” She mumbled and with the words dropped tears, and with quick reflex, she caught them with the sleeve of her jacket and snivelled. It was choking her, the way her heart pushed to her throat and left it to hurt, it all hurt and left a faint tremble. Aeri looked up at Y/n, her vulnerability was something she couldn’t hide unlike the girl in front of her who stopped at last.

Was it wrong to cry because she felt bad for Y/n? The girl didn’t deserve to be in pain behind all those walls in her opinion. Y/n wasn’t doing anything wrong even if it seemed like it; she was just badly hurt and that wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t her fault that she didn’t want to be hurt again.

It wasn’t Y/n’s fault that it was hard to go back to the person she used to be, knowing that that person she used to be had died at the hands of someone who wasn’t deserving of Y/n. Someone who wrecked her home and set it on fire.

“It is working until you bring it up.” Y/n knew how to suck her tears up as her gaze bore into Aeri’s soul, the tears from her girlfriend a sign of the drainage she caused. It wasn’t intentional; it tore her knowing that she was breaking Aeri’s heart, someone she loved, but she had to put her heart first.

She had learned that love wasn’t worth putting first.

Aeri exhaled, wiping her eyes again, using her sleeves while barely shaking her head. “It’s not working and this is the proof, Y/n. We wouldn’t be arguing about it if it all was fine. You said it yourself that you’re being ignorant. I’m willing to take it slow, I want to help you, but I can’t when you close off.” Even after all this time–a year–she was willing to give it more time. To give Y/n all the time she needed.

“I don’t need your fixing, Aeri. I’m fine with the way things are, the way I am.” Y/n bellowed with anger, too stubborn to change her ways, too stubborn not to put herself first despite wanting Aeri. Too stubborn not to put walls around her heart no matter how much it tried to beat free from the chains just for Aeri. It was a conflict she was facing; not with Aeri, but with herself.

“You’re obviously, lying–” Aeri knew Y/n enough from the outside to know, but she had taken in as much as she could from those small cracks that could at times appear in Y/n’s walls. It was enough to let her know that Y/n wanted to love but was scared.

“I’m not lying, I’m–”

“Yes, you are! You get defensive, you close up, and you ignore me. How is that fine to you or me?” Aeri exclaimed, abruptly getting up from the couch with a harsh wipe to her dewy eyes that couldn’t help but shed at the discomfort of her heart aching.

Y/n scowled, gripping onto the sleeves of her sweater. “I’m done.” She stated the words firmly and her jaw clenched to the point where it hurt just to not tear up.

However, Aeri wasn’t done, she grabbed hold of Y/n’s closed fist, but with tenderness, because despite the anger there was no room for brutality in her love for Y/n. There was no room for hurt, however, it was harder than it sounded to prove it to someone who had only seen the love that came with nothing but havoc and brutality.

“You always are when it gets hard yet it’s fine the way it is?”

“Fuck off, Aeri.” She exhaled as Y/n left her hold, leaving her to silently wipe at her tears in the now-empty room. Those tears that she would be wiping for the next few days if not weeks. There was no one else to do it for her. No one to mend her heart because even if Y/n left, it was still with her; aching at the distance that made her feel weak and sick.

Aeri didn’t say more, she didn’t do anything more, she didn’t chase, not at the moment; this wasn’t the first time Y/n was done with her. It was an endless cycle with her girlfriend–temporarily ex-girlfriend now–and she knew that she had to wait a few days or weeks until she could pull Y/n back in and show her that she loved her, that there was love for her, that it could all work out if she let Aeri in.

She was, in the end, willing to sacrifice for her love.

masterlist

#aespa imagines #aespa giselle x reader #giselle x reader #aeri uchinaga x reader #aeri x reader #giselle imagines #giselle x fem reader #aespa x reader #fanfic #girl group imagines

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sl-ut · 8 months ago

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sweet dreams

ended up having a baby dream during my nap and thought it would be a v cute burb concept for my sweet cliches series

set in this universe!

abby noticed that something was wrong with her girlfriend almost immediately after she returned from her morning run. she had, of course, left quite early and had been very careful not to wake her cranky pants gf up, but started questioning what she might have done to piss her off already when they hadn't even truly spoken a word.

y/n was in the kitchen when she got back, mixing herself an iced coffee and barely even responding to abby as she came over to kiss her good morning. abby shrugged it off, thinking she was still too tired, but when she rejected her invite to join her in the shower????? that's when she knew something was up.

she spent fifteen minutes in the shower, taking the extra time under the piping hot water to think it over. she knew it wasn't about her leaving a mess before she left; abby was the neat freak in the relationship, so it was usually her getting annoyed by clutter, not the other way around. they'd been on good terms last night, they had even found time in both of their busy schedules that allowed them some spare time to get it on...was it not good? abby thought she'd seen the telltale signs- the whimpers, the heaving chest, the swelling nail marks on her back... she'd never seen y/n fake it before, so she wasn't sure what she wasn't picking up on. unless... what if she had only ever seen her fake it???

then abby goes into panic mode. she finishes her routine as quick as she can (under ten minutes, our low maintenance queen!) and rushes out to find her girl curled up on the couch under a fluffy blanket, not even glancing her at abby as she took up the space next to her.

"what's going on in that pretty head of yours? and don't say nothing."

the girl frowned before she stubbornly responded, "nothing."

"did i do something wrong?"

"no."

"then what's the matter? i don't like to see you so down."

"it's stupid."

abby scooted closer, pulling her girl onto her lap, "i could never think that anything to do with you is stupid. please tell me."

"fine, but you have to promise you won't laugh."

abby rolled her pretty blue eyes, "on my own life, i promise i won't laugh."

the girl let out a deep sigh before she mumbled something under her breath.

"gonna need you to speak up for me there, baby."

"i had a dream that i was pregnant and then i had our baby, and we lived in a cute little house with a dog and we were so happy..." she sniffled, "and then i woke up and none of it was real."

abby was silent for a moment before a small smile and chuckle began to crack through her forced serious expression.

"abby!" y/n slapped her arm when she finally broke out in full laughter, "you promised!"

"i'm sorry baby," she held her tighter to her chest to keep her from moving away and began to rock her, "i'm sorry. that was just so cute, if i didn't laugh i was gonna cry."

"i miss our baby."

abby was in her last year of med school, and thanks to her big beautiful brain (and her trust fund), she was remotely debt free. the two had already discussed their plans to start looking for a house in a nice neighbourhood as soon as abby graduated and got a permanent placement somewhere, but the discussion of kids had sort of been sidelined up until now.

the blonde shook her head, "i can't wait to meet our baby. just give me a year, and then we'll start making that dream come true."

y/n beamed with happiness, curling into her girlfriend's beefy arms, "i can't wait to carry your baby."

"trust me," abby chuckled, "i can't wait to put a baby in you. i bet i'll get it to stick first try, but i'm all about consistency. i'm thinking five nights a week minimum."

both girls giggled at abby's joke, snuggling closer together in a peaceful silence before y/n finally spoke up once more.

"abs... you know you can't actually get me pregnant, right? i mean, you're in medical school for god's sake."

#reader insert #x reader #imagines #lesbian #abby anderson #abby anderson imagine #abby anderson x reader #abby tlou #abby anderson x you #college!abby anderson

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sl-walker · 1 month ago

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Emergency Commissions

So, I have been unemployed since July and then Thursday night, a buck in rut decided to leap in front of my poor little Cobalt. She absolutely saved my son and I by taking the brunt of the impact, but obviously, she's not going anywhere anytime soon. I might be able to save her and do intend to try -- I've had her for almost ten years and almost 100K miles, and have been utterly faithful in my maintenance; I love this car dearly and she clearly loved us right back the other night by absorbing the impact of a gigantic whitetail -- but that's not going to be something that happens quickly.

In the meantime, I need a car. Despite being unemployed, the scrimping and saving and the help of family has netted me about 3500 I can put towards one. Unfortunately, even beaters these days tend to go for more than that. I have a job prospect I'm waiting to hear back from, but no guarantees.

So, in order to raise funds, I'm offering emergency portrait commissions.

The caveat is that they'll be pencil only, bust only portraits, because those are the ones I can do quickest and easiest. As for price: Pay what you think is fair. It takes me between an hour and two hours, usually, to do a pencil portrait depending on how elaborate you want it. I also typically don't take payment before the work is complete, so you could shaft me pretty severely, but I'd like to believe better of people than that. (I will be pretty hurt if someone sends me $5 or $10 for a portrait that takes me two hours, though, ngl.)

I can draw humans and humanoids, though the more elaborate, the longer it'll probably take. Love doing OCs for people. I'm less sure if I can do animals or furries, but I'd probably be willing to give it a shot if I have good references. Some examples of my pencil stuff:

Anyway, DM me here or find me on D*scord at sl_walker if you're interested! And please do feel free to signal boost.

(ETA: I'll also be posting new nails by my wife soon, too!)

#emergency commissions

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theminecraftbee · 1 year ago

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Once again, Zedaph finds himself outside the closed gates of the Deep Frost Citadel, tapping his feet with annoyance. Honestly, by now you’d think the stupid thing would understand Zedaph always gets his way, when it comes to Tango, but no, Tango’s stupid base keeps trying to stop him.

“I told you, I’m not here to negotiate, I’m here to pick up my friend,” Zedaph says irritably. The gates of the base don’t respond, and don’t open. “I have a very important nap to be taking, I’ll have you know, and I will not be stopped by… by base chicanery!”

There’s a deep, rolling growl from somewhere in the bowls of the citadel. It sounds like ravagers.

“Oh, don’t you threaten me, you know I’ll run around and die in there all you want as soon as it’s ready. Not even afraid, am I? You’ve had your taste of the good old Zed flesh, but no sir, you aren’t getting me today. The high-voltage wires were a good trick last time I came to bother Tango, I admit, but it won’t work again!”

Another rumbling growl. Zedaph huffs. It would certainly be nice if Decked Out spoke in human to him, so he wouldn’t have to keep guessing. Even sheep would be better—Tango may have an affinity for beasts, but Zedaph only has an affinity if the beasts are also silly.

He makes an educated guess. “Yes, yes, I know you’ve ‘eaten him’ or whatever. Well I’ll have you know that Tangos have more nutritional value after watching me take a very important nap. And also dying. Its enriching. You like enriched Tango—okay, okay, that wasn’t the complaint, geez, you don’t have to shout at me. At this rate I’ll just use my pickaxe to break through the door, and then what will you do, huh? Nothing. You’ll do nothing, because you’re a big stupid building in the ground, and Tango was my friend first.”

A rumble.

“Haha, yeah, take that. We’ve been friends for years. You might be his magnum opus, but you’ve never made him sign a custom body pillow with your beautiful face on it, have you? That is the bond of men! No base can do anything about that.”

A louder rumble. Zedaph feels what he thinks is supposed to be fear and desire to wander into the depths and die or something silly like that. Zedaph isn’t certain, because it’s not as important as Zedvancements. This is one of Zedaph’s special abilities: if it’s not as important as whatever he’s doing right now, he’s very good at ignoring it until it becomes important. So, like, the Citadel is trying to lure him to his death, but that’s less important than taking a very deadly nap while Tango watches with horrified awe, so he’ll just ignore it until later.

Works every time.

“Listen, I’ll bring him back in one piece! Have I ever lied about that? I never do. He always comes right back to work, even when I do distract him, and he’s chipper again, right? I barely even disrupt things. Not that you could do anything if I did, of course, you hunk of stone and ice.”

Zedaph stares at the closed doors for a bit longer. He thinks this is about when anyone else would either die on the spot, or run away screaming, or maybe just come in and feed themselves to a ravager, but the that’s because the other hermits very frequently don’t have anything better to do than to get caught up in other people’s nonsense, in Zed’s experience.

Zedaph simply has so much nonsense of his own that he can out-stubborn even Tango’s base. Like he said: a special talent.

Slowly, as though greatly reluctant, the gates open.

“Thank you, geez! Was that so hard?”

Zedaph stomps through to the hidden access door of the Decked Out maintenance tunnels, grabbing one of the supplemental oxygen masks as he does. He sighs as he realizes that Tango, once again, has forgotten he needs to breathe. Hopefully, the fact Zedaph is currently keenly aware of needing to breathe on account of planning to not do that ten times in a row does not remind Tango.

He finds Tango taking a nap tangled in some high-voltage redstone lines. This time, Zedaph knows better than to touch them. It had been a mite embarrassing the last time. “Tango! Hey, Tango!”

“Wuh?” says Tango, eloquently. “I’m up, I’m up, level three’s almost done I swear—”

“Tango, get up, I have bedroom tricks to show you!” Zedaph says.

“I’m up! Zed? Oh hey! What are you doing all the way out here?”

“I told you. It’s urgent, Tango, urgent. I have bedroom tricks only you can assist me with.”

“Well, that’s a good time I wasn’t expecting,” Tango says.

“No, you idiot! Get your head out of the gutter, and come on! I have things to do!”

“Okay, Zedaph, geez, geez, lemme just—”

“I’ve already asked your stupid base,” Zedaph says. “It’s fine. Now, get out of those wires before I get shocked or something, and we’re going to go have fun.”

Tango slowly uncoils himself. “Right. I’ll get ready and—” Zedaph whips a pair of sunglasses out of his pocket. Tango pauses before smiling brightly. “Oh, you’re the best.”

“I really am,” agrees Zed, and he grabs his best friend’s hand and leads him out of the Deep Frost Citadel to show off his latest contraption. He turns around and sticks his tongue out for good measure at the base as they go. Hah. Take that. The best. There’s no beating it.

And there’s no keeping him away from Tango. Zedaph guarantees it.

#hermitcraft #zedaph #tangotek #tango tek #I. can’t remember if I tag with the space or not I think I’ve used both. whoops #a bee fic #anyway in the continuing saga of ‘tango is a little possessed slash eaten’: zedaph #because zedaph is the exception to many things when it comes to tango #and the rule of ‘tango doesn’t leave without permission’ is one of them.#(and besides. that’s how it’s always worked when zed’s isolating himself; may as well return the favor to tango.)

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filmmakerdreamst · 11 months ago

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P.J.Hogan's 'Peter Pan' is still an underrated masterpiece 20 years later

Peter Pan is a live-action fantasy adventure film directed by P. J. Hogan that reimagines the classic story of Peter and Wendy. The screenplay was written by P. J. Hogan and Michael Goldenberg and was released in cinemas in December 2003. The screenplay is based on the 1904 play Peter Pan, or The Boy Who Wouldn’t Grow Upand the classic novel Peter Pan by J.M.Barrie, which was originally published under the title Peter and Wendy.

The film tells the story of a young Edwardian girl, Wendy Darling (Rachel Hurd-Wood) and her two younger brothers John and Michael. On the night she is told she must grow up, a wild, fairy-like boy called Peter Pan (Jeremy Sumpter) flies into her room with his high-maintenance fairy Tinkerbell. When he learns that she tells stories, he whisks Wendy and her two brothers away to a magical Island called Neverland — where you supposedly don’t “grow up” — so that she can mother his henchmen, the Lost Boys. There she fights pirates led by the evil Captain Hook (Jason Isaacs), meets mermaids, dances with fairies, falls in love and grows up.

I have strong family connections tied to Peter and Wendy and J.M.Barrie. My great, great uncle Nico was one of the sons of Sylvia Llewelyn Davies'. He and his other brothers "the Lost Boys" were adopted by J.M.Barrie; which ultimately inspired him to write Peter Pan. Nico’s daughter Laura — my cousin — who I met for the first time a few years ago, told me that she was flown to Australia for the filming of P.J. Hogan’s Peter Pan because she was J.M.Barrie’s goddaughter. She told me that she was thrilled with the cast, especially Jason Isaacs, who played Captain Hook and Mr Darling. She also mentioned that Jeremy Sumpter, who played Peter Pan, was a lovely boy. However, she said she was very surprised and sad that the film wasn’t a big success as she really liked what they did with the story. I have loved the fairytale of Peter Pan from a young age, and learning that I am literally part of the family that inspired the story was very exciting and I’ve only begun to internalise it more as I’ve grown older.

When I was in my mid-twenties, I was diagnosed with a high level of Autism. One of my main symptoms was labelled “ageless”, which in simple terms means that one half of me is still a child that I can’t mentally leave behind. I can’t do many things that most adults can do, such as pay bills, drive a car, look after my own well being etc. I flap my hands when I get excited. I bounce. I sometimes speak in a baby voice. I overcommit to things I enjoy. I admit that it was hard to come to terms with the diagnosis when I first received it. But over time, I’ve come to believe that the two can coexist in a healthy way. I believe that I am an adult who is able to develop and grow while still carrying the child within me, and that this is not seen as a bad thing. I think Peter and Wendy can be seen as a reflection of that.

I was first introduced to P.J. Hogan’s Peter Pan a few years after it was released (I was maybe nine or ten years old), and I absolutely loved it. It wasn’t only one of my favourite film adaptations, but one of my favourite movies of all time. What surprised me most about the film at that age was how dark and gruesome it was, and full of this underlying sexual tension that I hadn’t expected at all from Peter Pan. Even today, this film still has a special place in my heart. It is made with so much passion and love for the original text that I can automatically put myself back into the story. After watching the film again as an adult, I almost immediately opened my copy of Peter and Wendy and started reading. I would even go so far as to say that I prefer the film to the book. However, part of me wishes that the age rating had been set much higher, as the dark and gruesome moments were some of the strongest parts of the film adaptation. This is possibly why some critics and viewers had difficulty categorising the film at the time.

However, I often consider P.J.Hogan’s Peter Pan to be the same equivalent as Joe Wright’s Pride and Prejudice. (which came out a few years later in 2005, starring Keira Knightley and Matthew Macfadyen). The film moves at the same dreamlike pace. It is light, dark, colourful and deeply romantic.

I also often prefer P.J.Hogan’s Peter Pan to the 1953 Disney Animation of the same name, even though it’s the version I grew up with and liked. I find it much less straightforward and innocent. Also, the 2003 film is much closer to the original source material, which I loved reading as a teenager, and to J.M.Barrie’s original vision. The film manages to reflect the same intellectual subtext and depth of the novel while retaining the whimsy and magic.

Magical Realism

Peter Pan was a perfect blend of fantasy and realism. A lot of media these days focus too much on “realism” and make their sets and CGI look bland and washed out. It’s a common myth these days that no one likes whimsy anymore; it’s somehow seen as too childish. As a result, much of the magic of fantasy is lost. But in this Peter Pan, a lot of colour was used in the set design and cinematography. Everything was so brightly and colourfully lit. Most fantasy films these days, including the new live-action adaptation of Peter Pan and Wendy on Disney+, are all so gloomy and dark. You almost have to light up the screen to make out the actors’ facial expressions or what’s happening in the scene. But this film understands that a viewer who watches fantasy wants to be swept away, but also wants a certain amount of believability. Although the film contained a good amount of darkness, it did not shy away from being cartoonish either (which I think was partly inspired by the Disney animation), i.e. characters blushing or bouncing on the clouds.

The design of Neverland was breathtaking. I think the CGI, although criticised by some, made the island and creatures look more dreamy and fairytale-like. It was a good combination of CGI for the landscapes and real backdrops for the jungle, so there was enough magic and believability to transport the viewer into the story. A bright colour palette was used for the landscapes, while down-to-earth colours such as browns and greens were used on the ground, such as in “The Lost Boys Hide” under the tree, to give a sense of realism. The costume department also reflected this, from the majestic reds and blacks of the pirates, to the earthly colours of blue and red for the Native Americans, to the natural greens and browns of the Lost boys. I noticed that the colours in Neverland were used as a contrast to the Edwardian London back home, which is realistic but dull compared to the island.

One aspect I liked was that the lighting on Neverland always changed depending on the mood of the scene- unlike the naturalistic lighting on Earth. It was almost as if the island was a living being. For example, when there was a fight on the ship, the lighting was red. When Peter took Wendy to the mermaids, who were scary and frightening, the lighting was dark and blue. This created a surrealistic atmosphere, almost like a fever dream or a kind of nightmare.

Sometimes the environment changed depending on Peter Pan’s mood in the respective scene. I particularly liked how Peter Pan influenced the weather on Neverland. Just his mere presence when he flew to the island changed the entire atmosphere in an instant. His feelings also determined whether it was summer or winter. In other words, its suggested in the film that the longer he has been there, the more the island has become a part of him, so that he can no longer leave it. It’s almost as if the island has transformed him into a magical being.

The exuberant musical score by James Newton Howard: I’ll never forget that. I think that was one of the first movies I saw where I actively noticed the music because it was so brilliant. Even today, the “Flying” soundtrack still gives me goosebumps. It perfectly encapsulates the whimsy, joy and imagination of Peter and Wendy. I loved that there were always different variations. One of my favourite pieces from the movie is ‘Fairy Dance’, which starts off cheerfully and moves up and down depending on the characters’ conflict/what they’re saying in the scene.

Cast

The cast of this film adaptation was magnificent. The look of all the actors not only matched the book description, but also the mood, especially with the Darling family. One of the standouts was Olivia Williams as Mrs Darling. She captured the gentleness of the character perfectly. I also loved the new addition of Aunt Millicent, played by Lynn Redgrave. She fitted into the story so well that I was surprised not to find her in the novel. She had the perfect amount of ridiculousness and hilarity that suited J.M.Barrie’s style.

One particular member of the cast we can probably all agree on that was perfect, was Jason Isaacs, who played both Wendy’s father Mr Darling and Captain Hook. He was certainly a star in this film for sure. I just can not think of anyone who could play him better, especially in a live-action film adaptation. He was particularly good in the role of Captain Hook. When I first saw the film as a child, I did not know that Captain Hook and Mr Darling were played by the same person until my dad pointed it out to me because he was so good. I loved how they portrayed Wendy’s dad as shy and reserved, as opposed to Captain Hook who was flamboyant and sinister. Mirror versions of each other in different realities — that’s a common theme throughout the film. As Captain Hook, Jason Isaacs perfectly captured the essence of viciousness, deviousness and brutality that was necessary for the character. But also the deep loneliness and frustration behind it all. I have seen a quote that was supposedly cut from the film (and never should have been) that provides so much context for his hatred of Peter Pan:

“Imagine a lion in a cage and into that cage flies a butterfly. If the lion was free, it would pay no heed to such creature. But the lion is not free…and so the butterfly drives him slowly insane.” — Captain Hook

They did a really good job of showing how Peter Pan and Captain Hook are mirror images of each other. Peter Pan is a child who secretly wants to be an adult, while Captain Hook is an adult who secretly wants to be a child. Both fight each other for different reasons, but the goal is the same. For example, there is a great scene towards the end where Captain Hook uses his wits to defeat Peter in a fight. Here it becomes clear that there is deep symbolism for the inevitability of adulthood and the loss of childhood. Jason Isaacs really showed off his acting talent here. I liked that he wasn’t portrayed as a “dumb villain”, which he easily could have been.

There were also some great performances among the adults. Most notable was Richard Briers as the ‘pirate’’ Smee. But the child actors, especially the lost boys, really held the movie together. Their solid performances made it so believable that the island was ruled by children. I loved Theodore Chester as Slightly. He was very charming and funny in that role.

Another member of the cast I thought was brilliant was Carsen Grey, an indigenous actress of Haida descent, who played Princess Tiger Lily. I liked that they let her speak her ancestral language, Mohican, in this film. Although this film came out in the early 2000s, it is the only version of Peter and Wendy in which Native Americans are neither erased nor white-washed even though the representation is far from great. Considering how they’re treated in the novel, it’s perhaps for the best overall that they limited some of their scenes. However, I liked how firey she was in this adaptation and not the damsel in distress she was portrayed as in the Disney animation. I think it was a wise decision to cut the infatuation she had with Peter Pan, as it was really just one line in the book that would have added unnecessary drama, and all in all, it would have fallen short if all the female characters were jealous of each other.

They also downplayed Tinkerbell’s jealousy in this regard, portraying it more as her trying to protect Peter Pan’s youth from romantic advances, as hinted at in the novel, and also being sad that Wendy is attracting all of Peter Pan’s attention. Ludivine Sagnier has, in my opinion, succeeded well in making Tinkerbell equally repulsive and endearing, as befits the character.

Wendy Darling

Rachel Hurd-Wood was the perfect cast for the role of Wendy Darling.I was actually surprised to learn that this was her first film role ever, because she was a natural. She effortlessly possessed the same caring nature and charm that makes Wendy so endearing. She is exactly how I imagine the character when I read the story. When people talk about Peter and Wendy, they always mention Tinkerbell, Pan or Hook, but personally I am always drawn to Wendy. She is the real heroine of the story. After all, she was the main reason for Peter to bring her and her brothers to Neverland.

What always amazes me about Wendy’s role in the story is the fact that Wendy literally doesn’t spend much time being a “child” in the time she spends in Neverland. When she’s not escaping death at the hands of mermaids or pirates, she acts as a mother to the ‘lost boys’ and her brothers. She asks herself what she really wants from life. In comparison, she was allowed to behave more like a child at home in Edwardian London. Neverland is not a place where you never grow up. It’s the place where she chooses to grow up. Many people have described Neverland as a manifestation of Wendy’s subconscious as a result of trauma, and I’ve never found that to be more true in this adaptation.

One of the reasons why I think P.J. Hogan’s Peter Pan is the best adaptation of the novel is the fact that the film revolves around Wendy’s coming of age. I loved that they expanded on her love of storytelling and also gave her a tomboyish streak. Instead of just being on the sidelines, she’s able to get involved and fight pirates while retaining many of her feminine traits such as her maternal instincts and romantic feelings for Peter. She makes mistakes and sometimes gets dragged into things she knows she shouldn’t do. But in the end, she triumphs.

In many film adaptations of Peter and Wendy that I have seen, Wendy is either only present in passing or not at all. Characters like Peter Pan, Captain Hook and Tinkerbell always take centre stage, which I think is a strange decision as they are part of Wendy’s story and not the other way around. Peter Pan is meant to metaphorically represent the childhood she does not want to give up (which is why the character is always played by a woman in the original play, as he is a mirror image of Wendy). And Captain Hook (J.M.Barrie also wanted him to be played by the same actor as Mr Darling) represents the dark side of her father, or rather what she imagines adulthood to be. This is particularly emphasised in this film adaptation because he is an important factor in her being told to grow up. The father, the concept of adulthood, and Peter Pan, her childhood, are at constant war with each other.

“You’re not supposed to be like Peter, who kept every good and bad aspect of being a child and can’t tell right from wrong. You’re not supposed to be Hook, either. He let go of everything childish and loving about him and became bitter and evil..You’re supposed to fall in the middle, to hold onto the things about childhood that make it beautiful — the wonder, the imagination, the innocence — while still growing up and learning morality and responsibility. You’re not supposed to be Hook. You’re not supposed to be Peter Pan. You’re supposed to be Wendy Darling.” — @maybe-this-time

The 2023 film Peter Pan and Wendy took a different approach, by making Wendy a kind of powerhouse who always saved the day and outshone Peter Pan overall. In my opinion, the 2003 film adaptation emphasised very well that Wendy really is the yin and yang. She's allowed to be romantic, be rescued by others and at the same time determine her own destiny and stand up for herself. Because that’s what her journey in the adaptation is all about. She is pressured by all the adults in her life to grow up. She allows herself to be seduced with the prospect of an eternal childhood by Peter Pan. Then she realises that it is not self-fulfilling. She is tempted by Captain Hook with the concept of adulthood. And finally, she finds a balance between these two extremes on her own terms. By the end of the film, Wendy has made her peace with growing up while still remaining a child at heart. That requires a certain mental strength that we should all strive for.

Peter Pan and Wendy Darling

In most adaptations of Peter and Wendy, such as Hook and Syfy’s Neverland, the focus is on the title character Peter. In the more recent film adaptation Peter Pan and Wendy, the focus is on Wendy. This film adaptation of Peter and Wendy, on the other hand, sticks more closely to the original source material, as the story focuses on Peter and Wendy’s relationship. This is perhaps the reason why I always hesitate when I watch other adaptations, because these two characters are supposed to go together. It’s definitely a relationship that can be portrayed in all sorts of ways because they are symbolically the same person.

Although there is no romance between Peter and Wendy in either the original novel or the play, Wendy quickly develops romantic feelings for Peter which, as a prepubescent child, he does not consciously reciprocate as he has no concept of love other than that of a mother’s. Although Peter cares deeply for her, he ultimately only longs for her to be the maternal figure that is missing in his life. One could go into the symbolism that Peter and Wendy are one and the same, and that this is an expression of Wendy learning to love herself. But in a literal sense, J.M.Barrie had unintentionally created this very strong potential between the two characters. And I personally feel if your'e going to make an adaptation of Peter and Wendy that potential needs to be explored in some way, even if it’s not necessarily romantic.

Hogan recognised this potential and developed the romantic elements, e.g. ‘the “thimble” from the novel, into a very real and tangible plot. In other adaptations, Peter and Wendy’s relationship is rather one-sided. But in P.J. Hogan’s film adaptation, however, it is not at all. Over the course of the film, Peter and Wendy fall deeply in love with each other.

Rachel Hurd-Wood and Jeremy Sumpter had a remarkable on-screen chemistry for young actors, which helped give the adaptation its own identity. Whenever they interacted on screen as Peter and Wendy, it was — like the glittering pixie dust of Tinkerbell — simply magical. The off-screen chemistry between the two definitely helped make the romance so believable as well. When I was younger, I didn’t like romantic subplots in family films. I personally found that they clogged up the main plot because the “romance” tended to be very one-dimensional- but Peter and Wendy in the 2003 film version were simply enchanting.

In the original novel, J.M.Barrie alludes to the possibility of a romance between the two. In the film adaptation, they go all out. Their love story was written so beautifully and profoundly, while staying true to the original text and J.M.Barrie’s themes. This made the conflict hinted at in the novel of “staying in Neverland with Peter or growing up on Earth with Wendy” even more poignant and relevant, because in reality there was only ever one option. They couldn’t find a way to have both. That made the ending even more “heartbreaking” for me as a child, because even though they had the chance to be happy together, she couldn’t give up on growing up to stay. And he couldn’t give up being a child to leave, even though it was a natural progression for him.

Peter Pan

Jeremy Sumpter delivered a fantastic performance as Peter Pan. Not only did he perfectly match the illustrations, but he also managed to perfectly capture the essence of the charismatic, mischievous little boy from the novel. What’s more, of all the versions I have seen so far, he is by far the most accurate, right down to the clothes made of skeleton leaves, the dirty fingernails, the feral mannerisms, the traumatised soul behind the charm and the downright creepy insinuations. By today’s standards, you could almost take Peter Pan for a grown man who consciously decides not to behave like this.

However, when I watch the film again as an adult, I can now understand why he has reservations about growing up in Edwardian England and would rather remain a “child” in Neverland forever. As Peter says in the film, “Would they send me to school? And then to an office?” I feel like most of us today have so many choices as we get older, but back then it was much more limited. The choices were very restricted in that “heterosexist” environment. You could only be a certain thing, and it was much harder to hold on to the pleasures of life. I can now also understand the initial reactions of Michael and John to Peter: He must have seemed scandalous to people at the time. His bright colours, his inappropriate clothing and his behaviour are repulsive to the boys, but Wendy is immediately fascinated and attracted. I think it was a deliberate choice that he is the only character with an American accent to set him apart from the rest of the cast; to emphasise the wildness of the character and his non-conformity to the people of Edwardian London.

Another small aspect I liked was the suggestion that the Lost Boys, although they lived with Peter and obeyed his commands, lived in constant fear of him and did not worship him as in other adaptations. (A fear that is justified as Peter tries to kill them more than once in the film). What the 2003 film adaptation captured perfectly about Peter's character was: how terrible of a person he really is. Peter Pan is a hero when he goes on adventures and fights pirates. You could argue — via the quote “Leave Hook to me” (which Peter says to her in the film) — that Peter is Wendy’s split self who can fight her father (Captain Hook) for her, just like antibodies do with germs when we can’t handle them ourselves.

However, when it comes to understanding emotions, caring about others, even his henchmen, the Lost Boys, and doing anything that inconveniences him, Peter Pan is possibly as bad as Captain Hook. This makes Wendy’s decision to leave him all the more powerful. Although she was initially seduced by his adventurous life, she soon realises that his “life” of joy and adventure is not fulfilling at all. Because in reality, there is no real joy. There is no real adventure. In reality, his life is empty because it is not earned. In addition, she realises that she is gradually losing her memory of the outside world, including her parents - a sign that she is “slowly awakening from the dream”. This leads Wendy to realise that she wants more than what he can give her in Neverland (e.g. romantic love) and decides to leave. Being alive means feeling, accepting and growing. However, as long as Peter remains a boy, he can never truly be alive. Peter Pan conveyed this important message, whereas earlier film adaptations, including the Disney animation, did not.

One of the reasons why good adaptations of Peter and Wendy are so hard to come by, especially in this day and age, is not only because they adapt a performative story that exists in layers of subtext. They also work with a protagonist who doesn’t change. Who doesn’t develop in any way, neither negatively nor positively. Not even just physically, but also mentally. (Even Eli from Let the Right One In, the child vampire, changes in the course of the story). At the end of day, Peter Pan is ultimately there to serve someone else’s story. It works in a fairy tale format. But it doesn’t usually translate very well to the screen because it often leads to one-dimensional storytelling. Even if it seems so natural, it doesn’t come naturally.

However, this adaptation allows Peter Pan to grow. The writers expanded on the small aspect from the book, which is the moment when Wendy enters Peter’s life; he begins to feel emotions. Not just love. But anger. Fear. Sadness. Pain. Disgust. And above all: self-awareness. Almost like a version of puberty in condensed time, as if the change suddenly caught up with his body. When Wendy brings this up, Peter immediately rejects it out of fear. I think most of us can all relate to this when we were in the midst of growing into a young adult. We experience feelings that are scary and new, that we can’t yet fully understand or even want to. For Peter Pan, falling in love is exactly what he is afraid of: growing up and no longer being a child. This adds to an interesting conflict that arises between the two when she asks him to leave with her.

“The thing about Peter Pan is, he’s a coward. Had the chance of a lifetime and he bottled it. Just fucked off back to Neverland. All alone, forever he was, by his own hand. Poor old Wendy, she had to grow old without him.” — Skins, 6x07 “Alo”

In the original novel, the reason Wendy can’t take Peter Pan with her (apart from the fact that he refuses to grow up) is the same reason Lyra in His Dark Materials can’t take Pan — the animal manifestation of her soul — on the boat to the land of the dead. She has to split in order to grow up and leave a part of herself behind. She can’t keep both in order to move on. But that does not mean I always agree with the ending either. In which Peter remains a child and takes Wendy’s future descendants to Neverland and back to look after him. It leaves an icky aftertaste, but at least it fits in with the story J.M. Barrie wanted to tell.

Even though the adaptation conveys the same message, that Peter Pan is the manifestation of Wendy’s youth, even to the end. In this version of Peter Pan, that is no longer the case. By the end of the film, the way he holds himself is different. The way he looks wistfully through the open window and solemnly says, “To live would be an awfully big adventure,” : a sign of self-awareness, while Wendy happily reunites with her family. So much so that Tinkerbell has to pull him by the hair to stop him from joining them and reconsidering his decision. Peter is now old enough to know that he loves Wendy. Maybe he’s also mature enough to know what he’s missing, but he knows he can’t have her the way he wants, so he does the most selfless thing he’s ever done in the whole film by letting her go.

There is no such conflict at the end of the 1953 Disney animated film. Peter Pan is described by Wendy as “wonderful”. In reality, everyone else gets their happy ending, except him, because he deliberately chooses not to. Peter Pan very much turns himself into a tragic figure because he is afraid of the most natural thing in the world. He is afraid of life. And I feel like this version of the story knew that and expressed it strongly, which makes me conflicted now as an adult. I’ve seen endings like this before, where two people fall in love but do not end up together because they grow apart or they are both interested in different things, and it’s very important to reach those points in different ways. It very much reflects real life and is also reminiscent of first love. How that love never really fades. It reminds you of simple times, even when you’ve grown up and moved on. That a part of you is still at that age when you look back on it. These endings happen because people grow — which Peter Pan does not.

“Peter in the books lives in oblivious tragedy. He may suspect that he’s not fully happy, but he tends to forget about it… yet this Peter doesn’t… Wendy leaving him and growing up to be a wife of another man is his unhappy thought…It’s the loss of innocence since Peter could not forget this…It’s the process of growing up…all but confirms that Peter’s character arc in the film is one of accepting the fact he too must grow up to be happy.” — @rex-shadao

And I think that’s the real reason why his character is both the strongest and the weakest part of the adaptation. The writers didn’t make it clear enough that Peter Pan forgets in their version of the character. In the novel, Peter Pan forgets everything automatically, which is why he can exist in this limbo of childhood and not go mad. However, as mentioned earlier, this version of Peter Pan is old enough to remember and, more importantly, to feel. Even though he is the closest to J.M. Barrie’s original vision, unlike his counterpart in the book, he is capable of evolving. That’s why the ending sometimes feels strange to me as an adult.

It was hard to say why I had a strange feeling at first, but I realised that a lot of my mixed feelings stemmed from having seen the film adaptation fresh after reading the novel. Since Peter Pan fully reciprocates Wendy’s love in this version, he ends up being a different character than in the book, which is why I now disagree with them keeping the original ending instead of having him grow up with Wendy. It would symbolise that childhood can co-exist with adulthood, that you don’t have to leave a part of yourself behind. That you can be your true and complete self if you find the balance between the two extremes.

The original ending still works however, in all its bittersweetness. I know what it means and understand what it stands for. Wendy basically says goodbye to her childhood and promises never to forget it. There’s a reason it made such an impression on me when I was younger. It could just be because I’m trying to pick up all the pieces of my broken heart from the floor. But personally, as an adult, I just find it weaker compared to the novel. Sometimes I like to imagine an ending to this version of the story where Peter Pan comes back, having quickly realised that he has outgrown Neverland, but doesn’t meet Wendy again until they are both much older, at a time when Wendy is coming to terms with womanhood and the idea of marriage. Or she even meets his real earth counterpart (if we were to delve into the psychology of Neverland being Wendy’s dream). And their relationship is subjected to the natural test of time and growth.

Peter Pan is an almost perfect adaptation. It matches the humour, the tone and the vision of J.M.Barrie. But I can certainly understand why the film didn’t do so well at the box office. In the month it was released, there was an unfair amount of competition, namely the film Lord of the Rings — The Return of the King. And as an adult, I can now understand why it’s not the film people think of or remember when it comes to Peter Pan adaptations. And it’s not just because it doesn’t fit the elfish, jolly trickster persona that Disney has created.

The film adaptation suffers more from what it doesn’t do — such as maintaining a stable tone and consistent editing — than from what it does. It’s one of those films that would have benefited from being much longer. That way, the inconsistent tone and some of the rushed parts of the adaptation would be much more balanced. It feels like it was missing an extra twenty minutes. For example, the film is narrated by an older version of Wendy, but without the deleted ending where it becomes properly clear that it’s her telling the story to tie everything together, the ending feels a little abrupt. Say what you will about Tim Burton’s adaptation of the Series of Unfortunate Events, but the audience could see where the film’s narration was coming from the whole time. I think if they knew the alternate ending wasn’t going to work (that scene is a classic example of something working well in the novel but not in the film), they should have removed the narrator altogether with the deleted ending and adjusted the film accordingly. They should have extended some scenes so that parts of the film weren’t rushed, such as the introduction, and the story would have been left more up to interpretation as there was no voiceover throughout.

Despite its weaknesses, P.J.Hogan’s Peter Pan is still an underrated masterpiece 20 years later. It is an irresistible film that captivates and warms the heart. The film adaptation has certainly stood the test of time, staying true to the original while adding its own flavour to the story. It is full of magic, wonder and heart. It was clearly made by people who loved the origins of the story and explored where they came from, while also digging deep into the text to reshape the character arcs in a fresh and meaningful way. They succeed in capturing J.M.Barrie’s original message, which is that growing up is a natural progression of life, but that doesn’t mean leaving childhood behind entirely. That it is important to maintain a healthy balance between the two: Taking responsibility while appreciating the joys of life. From the vibrant colour palette to the goosebump-inducing music to the solid performances and gorgeous chemistry between Jeremy Sumpter and Rachel Hurd-Wood, my love for this adaptation will never end, no matter how old I am.

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a-writing-otter · 2 months ago

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WIP Wednesday

“I can’t believe you fucked that old man.”

Bill’s head snaps up so quickly from where it was inside of the air duct that he smacks it on the metal internals. When he reappears cursing and rubbing at his head, there’s dust bunnies in his hair and clinging to his eyelashes.

“You can’t believe I what?”

“You fucked that old man,” Red repeats, feet up on the counter as she lazily reads something called “Lumberjack Layabouts Weekly.”

“I—“ And Bill lets out a grunt as he comes down from the ladder to slam his hands on the counter and lean into her space. The action does little to phase her other than make her look up.

“Neither of those things are right!”

Red takes a second to turn the page of her magazine, but doesn’t look away from Bill.

“That’s not what I heard.”

Bill’s eyes roll back into his skull for a second. He thinks of what he was told to do both by the therapium and Question Mark’s fiancée: deep breaths in and deep breaths out, count to ten, don’t visualize throttling them no matter how fucking annoying these fleshbags are.

“First of all, I’m older than him,” he begins, like that’s the important part.

“You don’t look it.”

“That’s because I take good care of myself.” Which is only partially true.

When the Axolotl and the entire therapism decided Bill’s methods of rehabilitation weren’t working, they’d sent him here. To hell.

…to earth.

Stripped of his powers, they’d shoved him into a meat suit that was an “appropriate approximation of his natural form” (Bill resents that statement entirely, but the appearance has grow on him). The dark skin and golden eyes are quite a contrast coupled with the golden hair offset by strays strands of grey or white hair. Melody has helped him figure out how to wash and maintain it, which is far more maintenance than he was expecting after watching Ford for years barely do anything more than occasionally wash it and wake up. Bill’s currently picking dust bunnies out of an individual lock, throwing them into the trashcan by the counter (like hell is he sweeping up in this damned place more than he has to).

He has it on good authority that this is a desirable fleshbag form, both from the open way that people compliment him and the way people stared. …he’s getting used to the staring and has stopped threatening to flay people alive who let their eyes linger too long.

Question Mark calls it progress; Bill calls it not wanting to see that haunted, barely contained disappointment on Melody’s face again. She is simultaneously the kindest and cruelest person he’s met on this plane. In spite of literally everyone’s reservations about Bill being on the same plane as the rest of these humans, she’d been willing to hear him out, offer him accommodations here at the Mystery Shack, and even provide a job if he could behave.

She also detailed to him with a sunshiney smile and no insignificant amount of knife waving that if Bill started anything, anything looking like world domination under her roof, not even the Axolotl would be able to save him.

If nothing else, she’s done more than a little to earn his respect and compliance than anyone else in this entire reality.

So, he’d gotten used to people staring and it doesn’t bother him.

At least, until one particular person started staring.

“Second of all, I didn’t—“ And he looks around, makes sure no hide or hair of thirteen year-old menace can be seen before he continues, “—fuck Sixer.”

Red closes the magazine entirely and shifts to take her feet off the counter and lean on it with her arms folded—this is what she’d wanted to hear.

“I heard Stan caught you two in the bathroom.”

Bill clears his throat and starts back up the ladder to avoid having to look at Red even as he feels something warm in his face.

“Stan doesn’t know what he saw.”

Red lets out a raucous laugh that makes Bill wince and wrinkle his nose as he sticks his head back in the vent to continue clearing it out.

“I heard that you two also got into a fistfight at dinner before that. Weird foreplay, but I can respect it.”

Everyone, mostly Question Mark and Shooting Star, have insisted on family dinners since both sets of Pines twins returned to Gravity Falls. And, somehow, Bill gets lumped into that because he sleeps in the Shack (specifically, the sofa in the living room because everywhere else is off-limits). It’s been three weeks and most everything has been simpatico, Shooting Star was the fastest to warm up after her initial talk too of “unspeakable horrors” she’ll unleash on him if he steps a toe out of line. The fact that he’s powerless seems to make her willing to humor him.

…also something about him looking like a wet rat? And it was a good thing? Bill didn’t ask. Or, rather, he had asked and she brushed him off and because he knew Stanley will flay him alive if he lays a finger on either niece or nephew, he let it go.

Pine Tree has been a lot more hesitant in his behavior, sure, but he’s recently started being in the same room with Bill and musing aloud in ways that Bill knows are directed at him without talking to him. Pine Tree will state something stupid about the state of the town and when Bill corrects him, he’ll scribble it down, go silent, then rinse and repeat.

Stan has been… well, they were avoiding each other without problem. The closest they get to a conversation is when they’re both sitting in the living room after everyone else has gone to bed and before Stan goes to his bed and Bill passes out on the sofa. Their talk is a roundabout back and forth about complaining about what’s on the television and saying there’s “never anything good on”. Occasionally Bill will liken something on the screen to something he’s seen on television in other dimensions, Stan will grunted, and then they go back to silence.

They’ve also worked out a system where they’re allies in their silent agreement to watch The Duchess Approves as long as no one else finds out about it.

…and then there’s Ford.

They haven’t been in the same room as each other outside of dinner even remotely. Bill doesn’t look at him, Ford doesn’t acknowledge him, and it’s fine.

It’s fine.

It doesn’t bother him even a little that Ford won’t even look at him, won’t talk to him. Doesn’t bother him that when Bill does talk, he rolls his eyes. It doesn’t bother him either that Ford gets up every time Bill enters the room even for a moment. It’s not like he cares about the asshole or wants to see him. It’s fine for Bill.

Fine, fine, fine, fine, fine.

And because it is so fine, he’s not sure what exactly caused him to get mouthy with Sixer the night before.

Ford had made some inane comment and Bill couldn’t help but correct him. Over a trillion years in the multiverse, he knows when he’s right about something.

Ford bit back.

And Bill argued against.

It’d devolved into a petty back-and-forth, both of them digging their claws in places it shouldn’t go without caring for the carnage it spread.

It ended when Bill called Ford “my shining star” like this was just a philosophical disagreement thirty-one years prior.

He shouldn’t have done that.

The next thing Bill knew, he and Ford were rolling on the ground, fists flying and snarling at one another. Ford caught him in the nose, Bill punched him in the mouth, both of them scratching and pulling hair like a pair of animals.

It took Stanley and Soos both to pull them apart, both of them still swinging until they were forced to calm down.

After that, Bill had left his unfinished dinner to sit on the roof and wait out everyone else’s dinner. It was only because the blood wouldn’t stop flowing from his nose while the blood on his knuckles had dried uncomfortably to the point he kept accidentally ripping it when he flexed his hand that convinced him to go downstairs.

He’s still figuring out this whole human thing and, yeah, he was fumbling with the tape and his nose was dripping all over everything and he was fighting not to get it on the stupid sweater he got from Shooting Star and—

That’s how Ford found him.

There were no words as he crowded into the small bathroom with him, took off his gloves, and started to doctor Bill.

Neither of them say that there’s something familiar about this, them being together while cleaning up blood and puss and setting bones, usually injuries inflicted on Ford by Bill. There’s probably something funny about the idea of it being the other way around now.

They’re both too tired or embarrassed to say anything for awhile, but then Ford makes an innocuous statement that raises Bill’s hackles and there goes the peace. Then they’re shoving and pushing into a wall, Bill effectively having Ford cornered against it, chest-to-chest, spitting in each other’s faces, and then—

Then they were decidedly not fighting.

“Yeah, well, Fordsy is a know-it-all prick who doesn’t actually know everything,” Bill defends. “He started the fight.”

“That’s not what I heard,” Red replies in a singsong voice.

“And who’s telling you this?!”

“Don’t worry about it.” Red goes quiet for a moment, but he knows she’s still staring at him. “Did you two really make out though?”

Bill is quiet, can’t quite find the words he wants to say about this. Was his tongue in Ford’s mouth? Yes. Were Ford’s hands in his hair? Also yes. Did Stan walk in while Bill’s hand was halfway down the front of Ford’s pants? Regrettably.

“It was a… heat of the moment thing.”

“Wow. I mean, I knew you two were something back then, but I figured you two had, you know, moved past that.”

Bill doesn’t respond for awhile, leaning back to sweep the dust into the garbage bag he’s holding.

“So did I.”

#gravity falls #gf #billford #bill cipher #wendy courderoy #WIP Wednesday #my writing #the redemption and subsequent death of bill cipher #uhhhh so I’m actually trying to write a multi-chapter fic #I don’t know how long this is going to last but i have this whole story outlined #and parts of if written out #i have this entire fist chapter done and i just need to tweak it and fill it out a little more #it’s over 6k so I’m kind of impressed?#handyman au #the book of bill #tbob

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heich0e · 2 years ago

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"you can't eat blueberries for dinner."

the berry pinched between your thumb and forefinger pauses just at the threshold of your parted lips, your eyes flickering up to the man before you who watches you with his hands on his hips. you hold eye contact as you pop it into your mouth, something almost smug in the deliberate maintenance of his stare.

"god gave me free will and a chequing account, so actually i can do whatever i want."

rintarou doesn't find this funny–he does actually, but he refuses to give you the satisfaction of knowing that–and his expression stays passive as he watches you pop another little blue fruit into your waiting mouth. he continues to stare, and you continue to eat (ignoring him) until finally he sighs and shuffles away.

you have very little time to appreciate your victory before you hear a racket coming from the kitchen.

you wouldn't consider yourself a particularly intrusive person, by nature. you're generally happy to live and let live, especially when it comes to your longterm, live-in boyfriend: oftentimes it's better not knowing what suna's up to, for your own sanity. but your nosiness, and his noisiness, soon gets the better of you, and you shuffle over to the kitchen with your little bowl of blueberries in tow.

"what are you doing?" you ask, watching as rintarou rifles through the refrigerator in a crouch. there's something very primitive about his stance, hunter-gatherer even–though you know enough about him to know that were he a hunter-gatherer he'd be unlikely to survive a winter.

suna rises from his stoop with a strange assortment of ingredients in his arms, none of which really go together, and he looks at you proudly.

"i'm making you dinner."

you scrunch up your nose.

"uhhhhh-" you draw out the noise as your brain struggles for a proper response. "i'm not hungry."

he might even have believed you, if you hadn't popped a handful of blueberries into your mouth just after saying it.

rintarou drops his armful of ingredients onto the counter, looking at you pointedly.

"you can't eat blueberries for dinner," he repeats his earlier point firmly.

"why not?" you parry petulantly.

"blueberries aren't a meal. they're a fruit."

"they have antioxidants. they're anti-aging."

suna pinches the bridge of his nose and breathes out a long, aggrieved breath. "you're the most pro-aging thing in my life."

you waggle a finger at him accusatorially. "don't blame me for your grey hairs. if anything blame atsumu–he beat me to you by like three years."

rintarou places his palms flat on the counter and leans towards you on the other side. "baby, let me make you dinner."

he's changed his tactic now, playing a different angle in his effort to persuade you. he's softened his tone, lets his lashes flutter in a demure blink, his lower lip pouts slightly. in any other argument it may have been enough to sway you.

there's just one problem:

suna rintarou cannot cook to save his own life.

this is not to say that rintarou can't feed himself, or relies on you to take care of him in that regard. suna's happy to eat whatever he manages to scrape (or singe) together for his own consumption, and does it without complaint. it's just that, in all the time the two of you've been together, you can count on your own ten fingers the number of times he's made a meal that could be considered edible (and that's under relatively lenient terms.)

it really only becomes an issue at times like these.

"rin," you start, choosing your words very carefully, "i'm really not that hungry."

"it's the first night all week you've been home in time for dinner," he argues, "shouldn't you eat a real meal?"

he's not necessarily wrong–much to your eternal dismay. you've been working late all week, and it's the first evening you've made it home while the sun is still up, let alone at an hour that could be considered a normal meal-time. but as a result of your long work days, you're left with no energy to even think about what you might want to eat, let alone prepare something. even just ordering takeout seems too involved for the meagre amount of brainpower you have.

ergo, blueberries.

"i'm too tired," you say, your shoulders slumping slightly. you set your (mostly eaten) bowl of blueberries down on the countertop in front of you.

suna watches your body language shift, sees the visible deflation of your frame. he approaches you, slinking up alongside and pressing himself into you, an arm snaking around your waist. it's comforting, protective even. it makes you feel nice.

suna tugs you into him a little bit further, and you don't have the energy (or the desire) to fight him off. you let him pull you into his arms, burrowing your face in the front of his t-shirt, and you feel his palms brushing comfortingly along your back.

"long week?" he murmurs into the top of your hair after a moment of letting him hold you. you nod as much as you can, squished against his chest. his hands stop patting along your spine, and (mortifyingly) you let out an involuntary sound of displeasure, he chuckles lightly and then resumes the motions, swaying you gently while he's at it.

it's kind of nice, just letting him hold you like that.

you might even call it romantic if you could ever consider yourself so sentimental.

emphasis on might though, because your stomach chooses that exact moment to rumble, shattering any semblance of ambiance that may have existed.

rintarou laughs, really laughs, when it happens. it's the kind of laugh where you know if you were to look at him his teeth would be bared and his eyes would be crinkling, his head tipped back in his mirth. but you don't look up at him, instead you groan and press your face even further into his chest to hide your shame.

suna's arms wrap around your waist, squeezing you tightly before hoisting you up–still laughing as he plunks you down onto the kitchen counter right between his forgotten ingredients and your abandoned blueberries, slotting himself between your legs.

he takes your chin in his hand and tilts your face up to meet his, your nose scrunched up in embarrassed indignity. he kisses your cheek, but he's grinning, so you mostly just feel the press of his teeth.

"at least one part of you is honest," he teases.

you can't really even argue with him, given the circumstances.

suna steps away for a moment, reaching up to the top of the refrigerator and snatching the stack of takeout menus to nagano's finest(-ish) eating establishments (at least within 6 blocks) that the two of you have collected over the years. he fans them out between his fingers and totes them over to you, slipping back between your thighs and holding them up in front of your nose.

"pick one," he says.

"rin, i'm too tired to-"

"just pick a menu and i'll do the rest," he assures you gently. "i'll order, pick up, and hand deliver it right to you on that couch,"–he nods his head over your shoulder in the direction of your living room–"all you have to do is pick one."

you peer at him for a moment, a little shocked–a little moved–by his thoughtfulness.

you place a hand over his and gently lower the fan of takeout menus between you, craning up to press your mouth to his. he seems a little bit surprised by the gesture, but happily reciprocates, parting his lips against your own and tilting his head to deepen the kiss.

you pull away before anything gets too heated, plucking a menu at random from his hand.

"this one," you say, clearing your throat and looking away coyly, a heat prickling through your cheeks.

rintarou laughs lightly, taking the menu you've chosen with a nod. he kisses your cheek again.

"whatever you want," he agrees, turning the menu over to see which restaurant you've chosen for your evening's meal.

"you're being really nice to me," you say to him quietly, appreciatively, as close to proper thanks as the two of you usually ever get.

he lifts his gaze from the menu to peek at you.

"duh," he replies, "i love you."

the heat in your cheeks intensifies, and you can't blame the feeling in your stomach on a pang of hunger.

you can't help but laugh at how plainly he says it.

"besides," he goes on to add, setting the menu down under his palm on the kitchen counter, dipping down until the two of you are nose to nose and your lips are almost brushing, "i'm getting dinner, so that means you're responsible for dessert."

#suna x reader #suna x you #suna rintarou x reader #suna rintarou x you #suna rintarou #suna drabble #hq drabble #hq writing #writing

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