#they said it was easier to learn to read music then I could learn guitar easier

[the-cookie-of-doom]

fun fact about me, I have a full drum kit and an electric guitar (neither of which I can play) and a very fancy keyboard that I can play, technically, but the only song I still remember is the Star Wars Theme

[jaetyun]

your biggest fan.

04. rodrick heffley

wc: roughly 1.4k ish

"my arms hurt"

"your arms always hurt" your insistent whines only prove to make eunseoks jaw tick in annoyance, wanting nothing more than to take the luggage in his hands and throw it at your face until you fall backwards. it would really funny too, he notes. "plus, you're the one that said you'd help in any way you could."

"i know i said that but i was thinking like, hanging out with anton in his studio all day" you huff, stopping halfway through the hallway to do a small hop, an attempt to readjust the box in your hands. "why'd i get the heavier shit? you literally work out" you're met with a teasing shrug, eunseok opening the door and holding it for you in a small token of pity. rather than a thank you, you reply with scrunching your face, sticking your tongue out in childish rebellion.

the two of you have been packing up the essentials in the house that doubled as their practice and resident hangout spot. the rest would be on the way eventually, though you were sure eunseok had sent them on random errands to delay the inevitable: you seeing sohee and wonbin.

it's not like you hadn't all hung out in this very house countless times, this being your childhood home eunseok inherited once college started. you've spent most of your formative years on the same couch you could spot even from outside the house (where you currently stood, box still in hands from being lost in thought and forgetting how heavy it is), watching a movie the boys had picked purely to watch your discomfort. when you weren't watching a movie, sometimes they'd sneak into the liquor cabinet, not allowing you to leave until you had tried some with them. or maybe the fonder memories were when they weren't being mean to you, like karaoke nights or when you watched them practice with the makeshift drums and guitar they had. the practices they had now were much more professional and definitely sounded better, but it was undeniable you were far more fond of the ones before they got big, back when their biggest problem was learning how to read music.

you were startled back to reality by eunseok finally having remorse, snatching the box from your hand and placing it carefully with the other necessities you were storing on the porch for easier delivery when shotaros big ass truck got there. you mumbled a thanks, crunching and releasing your fingers in tandem now that they're finally free, watching your brother silently nod before walking back inside first. he's definitely gotten softer since middle and high school, and the terrorizing brother who used your misery as entertainment had faded with puberty.

"i'm hungry" your complaining starts up again, following into the kitchen where you make a dramatic display of your tragedy by laying down on the island table. eunseok scoffs, placing a water bottle next to you mid tantrum. "the guys will be back in like 20 minutes with food, you can survive." at the reminder, you turn around so you're now on your stomach, swaying your feet in the air with a grin. your brother stares at you for a second, a mix of judgment and disgust overtaking his face. "dont go ignoring everyone else when he gets here. especially sohee, you barely glance his direction at this point. it's honestly really depressing to watch"

your eyebrows raise at this, glancing at your brother suspiciously. "you want me to pay attention to sohee? what did he bribe you with to get you to say that" you sigh out, fidgeting with the water bottle cap while speaking.

"you've known him longer, he misses his friend." he walks over, pinching your cheeks to coo at you before you're swatting his hand away. "eugh! i dunno what's infected your brain to be asking me to hang out with sohee when normally i'm not allowed in a 10 foot radius of your friends. need me to babysit him or something?" he rolls his eyes, taking a seat in one of the chairs while you still sat stomach down, your head now resting on your crossed arms. "he's not even the youngest. i just think you shouldn't be so googoo gaga over wonbin, it's weird."

as if on queue, the door swung open, bag of greasy fast food in antons hand while he did a sing song hum to signify he's home.

"yn get off the island! you're gross germs are gonna get on the food" shotaro nags, walking toward you while you slowly shuffle off. "you'd love it if you had my cooties, it'd the first time a woman gave you anything-" eunseok covers your mouth with his hand, using the momentum to push you back so he could take a peak inside the to-go bags. he made quick work of it, taking the wrapped burgers and handing it out to the regular buyers of that item.

once you got your requested order, you glanced at sohee, the words your brother said ringing in your head. looking around, you spotted wonbin after, eyes softening and feet about to work on autopilot before you blinked yourself back to reality. sohee was in the corner of the kitchen, resting against the counter seemingly in his own world. looking back at wonbin, it was clear he was occupied talking to anton while they surveyed the drinks and messed with them inside the carrier. after pausing for a moment, your feet begun to move again, walking toward the person you'd rather talk to.

"heehee" you hum, walking over to sohee who was inspecting his burger. he gave you a nod, a smile etching on his face even if his gaze immediately returned to the burger. "is it true you miss your ex bestie?" you tease, hands under your chin to frame your face while batting your eyelashes. he snickers, deciding to dismiss the burger entirely and now focusing on you. he nods in confirmation, the cheeky smile still on his face. "we never hang out anymore, alone or in a group"

your pose drops, sticking a tongue out at him. "well that's your fault for homie hopping to my brother" wonbin walks over to where you guys stood in the kitchen, drink in one hand while the other slides onto the counter next to sohee. "why're you guys hiding from us?" although it's clear there's humor in his voice, he gives sohee an unreadable expression before sohees rolling his eyes, gesturing to you. "she came over here to pick on me." your eyes widened, scared of making a bad impression on wonbin and him viewing you as anything other than the alluring gentle girl. "not true!" there sohee goes, setting operation loverboy back 15 steps.

"oh. well then leave him alone yn" you nod dumbly, an apologetic smile on your face. he returns the smile before turning back to sohee. "we're loading the truck right now, we could use the extra hands" he gives sohee, who is now also exchanging an expression you can't quite place, a hardy pat on his forearm before swiftly exiting. sohee sighs, taking one last bite out the mostly untouched burger before looking back at you. "well i'm glad you decided to join us on tour, i dunno about anyone else know i missed your company. make sure to say hi to shotaro and anton too" he finishes, now sliding off the counter and rolling up his sleeves while walking toward the front door. watching all the boys pile out, you sat there wordlessly. this was the first time you were truly gonna be surrounded by the band and only the band, and though you were more than happy to spent most of your time with wonbin it soon sunk in how everyone else would be there too. sohee seemed more excited to see you than even hiyyih, who was the president of your fanclub. shotaro and anton were the same as ever, adding to the group what the other three lacked in high school perfectly. though you joined purely for your quest with wonbin, it soon became clear this trip was about a lot more than you trying to win over your lover boy. it wasn't until your phone dinged that you had snapped back to reality, hand automatically going to your pocket to reply.

previous - masterlist - next

since your brother formed a band with his friends in high school, you've had a massive crush on the aloof and reserved wonbin. him never paying you mind never bothered you until they became famous, and now you have to share him with every other fangirl. now that they're on tour, it's the perfect opportunity to make wonbin realize he doesn't want to share you either.

taglist @jvngw0nlvr @tocupid @seunghancore @molensworld @starwonb1n @yizhoutv @yipyipmorals @gyehyeonist @icewons @renjuneoo @soobiverse @fae-renjun @nujeskz @woonagi-lemon @miy-svz @binoyu @ricecakeslove @i03jae @meowbini @https-yeonjun @snowyseungs @p-d1ddy @saranghoeforanton @secretiny @aloverga @potatosoulp1h @dimplewonie @taroddori i @suzayaaa @brachioswrld @flaminghotyourmom @haowonbins @kyusqult

[weswhoreland]

into my arms

wes borland x gn!reader

mature 1684 words read on ao3 based on this ask

You bonded over music.

That’s what had first drawn you to him, all those months ago. When you first moved into the apartment complex, you hadn’t known anyone. You weren’t a loner necessarily, but meeting people was a lot easier said than done. For weeks you kept to yourself. You went to work and came home, a familiar routine. A safe routine. You were friendly with your neighbors, but it never grew past that.

Then, you met Wes.

Your local record shop was a short walk from the complex. Once you discovered it, you couldn’t get enough. After work you’d often find yourself there, browsing through albums and window shopping. You were busying yourself doing exactly that, adding another CD to your stack when you heard a voice from behind you.

“Is that Murder Ballads?”

It startled you a little. Casual conversation wasn’t uncommon at the shop, but never directed at you. When you turned, you were face-to-face with a stranger. Tall, brown-eyed… and admittedly cute.

“Yeah,” you agreed. “I love Nick Cave.”

As it turned out, Wes did too. A lot. That wasn’t where the similarities in your music tastes ended, either. The two of you had started talking, and by the time you finally checked out with the cashier, an hour had passed.

After that, you and Wes were inseparable. As it turned out, he lived in your apartment complex, too. A different building, sure, but close enough that the two of you found yourselves spending a lot of time together. He was easy to talk to. And fun. Slowly, you learned more about him. Wes plays guitar, and he’s good at it too. He’s from Virginia. He has a brother, his dad’s a pastor… and he’s in a band.

A really good band.

That’s been your life for months. Slowly but surely, Wes has nudged his way into your routine. If you’re not alone with Wes, you’re with his bandmates. And if not with them… well, you’re wishing you were. Wes -- all of them, really -- have become such integral parts of your life. When you first met him in the record store, you wouldn't have imagined he'd become this important to you.

Not that you've told him that.

Tonight is like any other night. You and Wes are hanging out, passing the time away. The two of you have been listening to music, talking, watching movies… anything you can think of. It’s been a good night. Admittedly, you think, the two of you are just trying to soak up as much time together as you can. Because in a few days, Wes will be leaving on tour.

It won’t be forever, you keep reminding yourself. Still, that doesn’t change the fact that he’s leaving. It’s a good thing. This is his dream, and you want that for him. You want that for him more than anything. But… well. Over the last few months, he’s become one of your closest friends. And it might be selfish, but you don’t want him to leave. Once Wes and the guys leave, your life will go back to the way it was before. And, admittedly, you like seeing Wes every day. You like spending time with him, getting to know him, hearing him laugh. The thought of not seeing him for months…

Needless to say, you’re distracting yourself. Or trying to, at least. Anything to keep your mind off the fact that in a few days, things will be changing. Unfortunately, you’re learning that’s much easier said than done. The goal was to make dinner. Something the two of you could enjoy together… and admittedly, something that would help take your mind off things. That was the plan, until you realize what you need is higher than you can reach.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. It had to be something Wes put away. He’s always trying to be helpful, but sometimes he doesn’t remember that you’re not as tall as he is. You stand there in the kitchen, cabinet wide open as you stare up at it in annoyance. You don’t want to ask for help. Maybe it’s a pride thing, or maybe it’s just on principle. But…

“I’ve got it.”

You didn’t hear Wes come into the kitchen. Still, in an instant you feel him as he comes up behind you, stretching just enough to pluck the box from the top shelf. There’s the briefest moment where you can feel him brush against you. It shouldn’t send a chill down your spine, but it does. It also shouldn’t make your heart race.

You hear a soft thud as Wes gently sets the box he was reaching for on the counter. You turn to look at him. You should say something – thank him, maybe – but you can’t quite get the words out. Apparently, neither can Wes. The two of you stare at each other wordlessly, like two deer caught in the headlights. You need to say something, you desperately remind yourself. You need to–

Before your mind can fully process what’s happening, he kisses you.

His lips are soft, softer than you would expect. It's the first thing you realize once your mind returns to you, once your thoughts stop swirling incoherently. His lips are soft, his hands feel nice on your hips, and he's good at this. Very good. You barely have time to weigh your options before your mind's made up. You kiss him back, letting your own hands wander. You press his shirt up just enough to feel his soft skin beneath your fingertips, to feel his warmth against you. What are you doing? The question runs through your mind, but you can't bring yourself to care. Wes is your best friend, and you want to kiss him. And apparently, he wanted to kiss you, too.

When he finally pulls back, there’s a brief moment where the silence stretches between the two of you. It isn’t awkward – not really. You’re fairly certain your brain isn’t functioning well enough right now for it to be awkward. Instead, you’re just staring at him. You’re staring at him… and Wes is staring back.

Fuck, he kissed you. Your best friend kissed you… and you liked it.

A lot.

Finally, Wes lets out a little laugh. It’s hesitant, unsure. So unlike the man you’ve grown to know. Maybe he’s thinking the exact same thing you are right now.

“... Sorry.”

Wait. He’s apologizing? For what, kissing you? Before you can stop yourself, you’re laughing.

“Sorry?” You repeat.

Wes looks embarrassed. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to laugh, but you couldn’t help yourself. “Yeah,” he agrees. “... I don’t know. I’ve just been thinking about it for a while.”

... He's been thinking about it for a while?

“What?" You ask. "About kissing me?”

“Yeah.”

Well. That’s news to you. Sure, your feelings for Wes have festered for a while, no matter how hard you’d tried to stop them. But the fact that he feels the same way? It throws you for a loop, almost makes your head spin. Surely he's lying. He has to be. But--

Apparently, you’ve stayed silent for too long. Suddenly, Wes is scrambling to clarify himself.

“I’m not asking you to feel the same way,” Wes continues. “And if that made shit weird, I’m sorry. I just… I don’t know. I keep thinking about it. And – I don’t want to leave.”

He doesn’t want to leave. … Well. Isn’t that something? Because admittedly, you don't want him to leave either.

“Wes,” you start. “Stop. I do. Feel the same way, I mean.”

“... You do?”

“Yeah,” you agree. “I do. And… I don’t want you to go, either.”

It feels like a blasphemous confession, but it’s true. Even so, Wes almost looks relieved. Relieved that you feel the same way, that you also have hesitations about the tour. You could ask him to stay, you realize. You could ask him to forget all of that, to stay here, to build a life with you. But…

“I don’t want you to go,” you continue. “But you need to.”

“(Y/N)--”

“No,” you stop him. “I’m serious. You’re not missing out on this just for me.”

Wes looks like he wants to say something — to protest — but he doesn’t. Good, you think. He knows you. You don’t give up easily, especially when you’re right.

Finally, Wes lets out a breath.

“It won’t be forever,” he points out. “I’ll be back. And… you can visit?”

“Oh yeah?” You grin.

“Yeah,” he agrees.

Visit. That sounds…

Nice. It sounds really nice. You can picture it now, watching Wes and the guys play from the side stage. Your mind wanders a little, letting yourself picture Wes as he comes off stage, happy and smiling and exhilarated as he kisses you again--

Jesus, okay. You need to focus.

“I’d like that,” you say finally. “A lot.”

This feels… stupid. So stupid. Wes is your best friend, but having a friend who’s a rockstar and a boyfriend who’s a rockstar are completely different things. Are you ready for this? To commit yourself fully to a man who will spend so long away from home? You have no doubt in your mind that Limp Bizkit will make it big. They’ll make it big… and none of this will be easy. There will be times when it's hard, when both of you wonder if you made the right choice. You'll fight, you'll argue, maybe you'll say things you regret. But...

But, maybe none of that matters right now. Because you want this. It hits you suddenly that you want this with Wes. To be with him, no matter the obstacles. And if that means being apart for a few months... it's worth it. It's worth it, just to know that you'll be together again eventually.

Without another word, you pull Wes in for another kiss. You wish you could this forever, you realize. To kiss him forever, to hold him forever. And... there's something else you want. Something that, unfortunately, you'll have to drag him to the bedroom for.

You think dinner can wait.

[shecomesincolors]

Tagged by @britneyshakespeare nearly a month ago! Thank you, my dear, and apologies, as usual, for both the delay and the positively deranged length of my replies.

1. Are you named after anyone? Yes, I am! My namesake was my father’s granny, who raised him as a little boy while his parents finished medical school. The senior Helena lived to be 90 and I met her many times when I was a little girl. My other paternal great-grandmother never took it very well that she didn’t get a baby named after her, but I thank my lucky stars for that, because her name is… rather anachronistic and unflattering.

2. When was the last time you cried? I… don’t remember? It was definitely a long time ago. Not only have I been quite happy lately, but also one might say I’m rather stunted; by which I mean, whenever something upsets me, I’m more likely to be catatonic, or spend the night awake, than to cry about it. I don’t know what that says about me, but I’ve always been like this, lol

3. Do you have kids? Goodness, no! Sometimes I imagine I might when I’m a proper grown-up, but I am far too young for that now.

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot? I tend to modulate my speech according to my interlocutor, so I guess that depends on whom I’m talking to; I think I’m more likely to use deadpan, dry humor than sarcasm per se, though.

5. What sports do you play, or have played? Tennis, on doctor’s orders (this sounds like a ludicrously old-timey thing to say out of context, but when I was in my early teens my physician insisted I get some exercise, and tennis was the sport I hated the least; I am not athletic in the slightest and I still suck at it, but I do play it).

6. What’s the first thing you notice about people? I had to ponder this question for a while. I suppose I’m always inclined to look for something to like in anybody I ever meet; usually something that we have in common (it needn’t be something big; even a converging taste in shoes is enough for starting a conversation). This may be a bit narcissistic of me, but isn’t it easier to build a positive rapport with someone when you recognize something of yourself in them?

7. What’s your eye color? Dark brown, on the verge of black.

8. Scary movies or happy endings? When it comes to movies, I always prefer a comedy. That being said, I’ve been getting a taste for horror lately. I blame Rosemary’s Baby for pulling me into that rabbit hole.

9. Any special talents? I’m often told I can be very eloquent and persuasive, which is a useful skill to have as a law student. I also have a great affinity, and an above average facility, for learning languages (I am fluent in three, pretty decent at an additional two, and know a little bit of many others). Oh, and, not that anyone cares, but I’ve also got a good memory for literary quotes (this may be the worst party trick ever, but I can recite entire stanzas from Les Fleurs du Mal and Byron’s Don Juan)!

10. Where were you born? Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.

11. What are your hobbies? As I said, I enjoy learning languages (I’ve been teaching myself Russian and Yiddish since the pandemic; I can already form complete sentences and read simple texts, but I wouldn’t say I can actually speak them yet). I also read a lot of literature, some culture history and biographies and a bit of history, political economy, and philosophy. I like keeping up with current events, too (is “like” the right word for that? It may be more accurate to say that I feel obligated to do so). I watch some TV and movies, especially classics, and I’m always listening to music on my air pods when I’m out and on my headphones when I’m home (I own a record player, too, but that is for special occasions). Besides all that, I also really enjoy singing, but I only get instrumental accompaniment when I have guests over, or during choir practice (I wish I could play the guitar, or the piano, but I’ve always been too woefully uncoordinated for that).

12. Do you have any pets? Three rescue cats, the youngest of whom we rescued ourselves!

13. How tall are you? An embarrassing 1,6 meter (about 5’4’’ in Fahrenheit, or whatever the strange measurement unit it is you use in the USA), made worse by the fact I can’t stand to wear uncomfortable shoes that might make me taller.

14. Favorite subject in school? I attended Catholic school despite growing up in a very secular family (long story, lol) and I hated most of it. But my parents were mindful of making up for gaps in my and my sister’s education by enrolling us in several extracurriculars and getting us some private tutors, including a young English teacher I absolutely adored. She’s still one of my closest friends nowadays, even though she moved abroad almost five years ago.

15. Dream job? Heiress. Socialite. Queen consort. Patron of the arts.

Thanks again, Diana, I had a lot of fun with these! I’m tagging @fancycolours, @sneez, @bbbrianjones, @bilbao-song, @david-watts, @chaoticdesertdweller, and anyone else who wants to do this.

[wednesdaygurl]

I’ve had a couple of glasses of Wine and am checking out a Mitski KEXP session (never heard her before)

I remember reading that Mitski was a big influence on your learning guitar… I can see/hear it actually.

I’ve just deleted an essay of woe about my lack of creativity and “disliking my voice” etc

You’re welcome 😂

I guess I just want to ask… what advice do you have for a musician of 30+ years who can play… but cannot write without massive imposter syndrome and/or feeling like they have nothing to say.

I can honestly say that after discovering ‘Wednesday’ and ‘MJ Lenderman’ this year I’ve never been more inspired… yet frustrated as I still can’t find my lane.

Apologies for the ocean of overthinking

Dylan

Hmmmmmmmm!!

This is a big question and I think there are a lot of answers.

I think the answer for you will depend on what makes you feel gratified as a song writer. Would it be just the accomplishment of finishing a song and putting it to music?

cause in that case you don't have to write anything that makes some big statement. Just writing about your life, or a small moment, or even something about someone you made up can give you the motivation to keep writing. You could even put the story of someone you saw in a movie or television show to music if you have trouble finding a subject.

I think really leaning on your influences can be a nice way to ease into song writing too. Like, think about the songs you like and why you like them. Do you appreciate the simplicity of a Big Star song? Or want something weird and disjointed like an Unwound song?

And then do the same lyrically. Do you like the storytelling of a Tom T. Hall song? Or are you more into just goofing around lyrically like an Oasis song, or do you like more abstract lyricism? And then instead of making a copy cat version of their songs just take the little things you like and mash em together with pieces/stories from your own life.

I think a really fun way to think of something to write about is to take a story that you tell to friends at parties or that you would call a friend and tell them about if it happened to you today. "Birthday Song" is a good example of me doing that. I just really wanted to retell the story of my friend breaking his foot on acid. Got a bunch of new songs written like that also.

And then bigger thing to remember is to just take the pressure off yourself! Easier said than done, but just remember no ones looking over your shoulder and judging you for trying to figure out how to express yourself. And if anyone does give you shit.... that's lame as hell!!!!

Hope this helps!

[skautism]

ANSWER ALL THE EVEN NUMBER QUESTIONS ON THE ASK GAME YOU REBLOGGED!!! MWAHHAHAAHA!

(if u dont wanna do that thats ok lol just do like… 2-6… when i rb those posts i always lowkey wanna answer all the questions so i thought maybe u might enjoy this !)

WOOOO oh boy. ill skip the two i already answered (and fucking. misread)

what are 3 things you’d say shaped you into who you are?

im gonna only say happy things. having an art mom, my first internet friend ever who introduced me to vocaloid, and futurama

show us a picture of your handwriting?

3 films you could watch for the rest of your life and not get bored of?

newsies (1992), borderline forever, and ghostbusters :3

what’s an inside joke you have with your family or friends?

incorrectly weighing a package before shipping it so that the recipient has to pay the postage

what made you start your blog?

musicals lol

what’s the best and worst part of being online/a creator?

best: frieeeends :)/worst: strangers not knowing how to mind their damn business

what scares you the most and why?

death. do i need to explain that?

any reacquiring dreams?

mostly fucked up shit like getting sexually assaulted. also lots of getting lost. i only ever have recurring nightmares :/

tell a story about your childhood

my mom pierced my ears for me as a kid since the only option for a 6 year old in georgia at the time was claires and she doesnt like claires at all. we had to do each ear months apart because it hurt a lot and scared me. had to give in and do the other ear because my dads 2nd wife said one ear was tacky and they were about to have their wedding

would you say you’re an emotional person?

nooooooooooo the only place im vulnerable on is here

what do you consider to be romance?

longass walks together

what’s some good advice you want to share?

LEARN TO TOUCHTYPE

what are you doing right now?

about to get back to my fic draft yippeeeeeee

what’s something you’ve always wanted to do but maybe been to scared to do?

nothing really? its either "i dont care that im scared ill do it" or "yeah i dont want to do that i dont think id like it"

what do you think of when you hear the word “home”?

very silly but. wii and 3ds

if you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

we are removing my health problems

name 3 things that make you happy

writing, mario kart, trapeze

do you believe in ghosts and/or aliens?

both

favourite thing about the day?

sunny breeze :3

favourite things about the night?

its quieter and easier to walk around because theres less cars

are you a spiritual person?

i mean i believe in ghosts

say 3 things about someone you love

they make really cool music and are supportive of what i do without trying to force me into bullshit and make me really happy

say 3 things about someone you hate

he doesnt know how to actually take accountability for fucking up, hes a dick to my mom, and tried to force me off my meds when they were still working

what’s one thing you’re proud of yourself for?

im writing again! i thought i never would actually get the ideas and motivation back

fave season and why?

fall!!!!!! halloweeeeen and better weather and stepping on leaves and pinecones

fave colour and why?

purple. its pretty :)

any nicknames?

i have a few based on my real name but wont share them for obvious reasons lolol

what do you do when you’re sad?

jack off

what’s one thing that never fails to make you happy/happier?

card games

are you messy or organised?

extremely fucking messy

how many tabs do you have open right now?

13 on my laptop

any hobbies?

game collecting, playing video games, cd collecting, various art mediums including digital and traditional art and sewing/embroidery and knitting and linocut/blockprinting, obsessively reading tvtropes, bass, piano, guitar, saxophone, sudoku, solitaire, and writing fanfiction

any pet peeves?

people going "shhhh" it hurts my fucking ears SO BAD

do you trust easily?

yeah

are you an open book or do you have walls up?

walls up. i know that directly contradicts trusting easily its complicated

share a secret

id rather not

youtuber you’ve been obsessed with and why?

look at my pinned post and guess. and because i like video games and its funny and i like the characters

any bad habits?

vaping and also my ten billion ocd compulsions

[okaysional]

super hope u dont mind me replying, iv been checking back to read things ppl add bc i find it honestly fascinating. but i wanted to add some more ramblings to see if it resonates.

i dont See things in my mind, but like i said in the original ask, i can imagine and apple with enough detail to think of the condensation droplets on the crunchy skin, the way the speckles of colour are not solid [in the case of a red apple] if u look closely u can see the yellow and pink in between the brigth reds. the way the light reflects off the skin harshly, the texture of the stem coming out of the top. however i put myself at a 5. because no matter how much i am Conceptualising the apple in my mind, it is not at all visual.

when i think of a character i like, or an intricate design that i am Very fmailir with, i can imagine each individual component. i can think of what its like to hold even? i can imagine how much space it takes up in the world, but again, i am not SEEING it. when a guided mediation asks me to picture myself on a beach, i cannot. i can fall into the sense memory of sand beneath my body and sun on my skin but i see black behind my eyes.

and in speaking with people who claim other stages, i have very clearly asked if it is like a Picture, with actual visuals as if they are seeing it, and they say yes. i also know its different to SEEING because i have been under the influence of drugs and had it happen, and sometimes in the time between sleep and waking i am capable of conjuring images. which is kind of how iv confirmed that theres less about personal interpretation of what is SEEING vs CONCEPTUALISING [which is just the way i have come to describe it myself because that seems to make it easier for people to grasp what im asking] and an actual definite difference in the way minds work person to person

I also have ADHD, and a brain that zips about like a hummingbird, which can make it infinitely harder to focus when i want to do the conceptualising and often leads to the ideas not being permanent and flitting in and out or changing.

I saw another post once about imagining a ball on a table. then imagine a person walks up and tips the table and the ball rolls. and then the post asked, what did the person look like? what colour was the ball? how fast did the ball roll? did it fall off the table? if it did, did it bounce when it hit the ground? that test showed that people closer to 1 on the scale had these answers already there, they couldnt possibly imagine the scenario without having all of those things involved. And those closer to 5 had to go back and think or only conjured those details once asked. itrs truly fascinating to think about i love to learn things like this

i am also an artist [and a damn good one if u ask me] and i do it in spite of having head empty no visuals in my brain, but i also recognise sometimes that if i DID have visuals it would make my life marginally easier when i wanted to draw. but at the end of the day, even when u have a clear image in ur mind, the skill to get that from brain to canvas is another thing in itself. so i agree with u there that people can stop wirrying about having a black void in their head holding them back, i paint incredible shit on the regular with zip going on, so can anyone

heres another fun one for u, id heard a long time ago that when we think of music in our minds, that we are not hearing the music. but we hear what our inner voice would sound like mimicking those instruments. now this turned out to be true for me and i was like YOOOOO bc thats funny, my brains going "duff duff duff" making drum sounds and "twang twang" for guitars or whatever, but its MY VOICE. until i learned a friend of mine could play music in their head and hear it exact as if it were a CD. which blew my mind.

exceotionally fascinating stuff

might be an odd question, but i have a theory after noticing trends amongst artists iv known in my life and SO FAR it's rung true so im expanding sample size

IDK if u know what aphantasia is already so I'm including reference [forgive me if uv already spoken abt this also]

Where would u say u fit on the scale?

For me I cannot see an apple, I know I am supposed to, or I will see concepts of it [like how the flesh is shiny and holds water droplets but i do not SEE it nor can i hold a clear visual of anything in my mind for that matter it is always flashing IDEAS like components of a visual, never the whole thing]

I'm asking because of people I've asked about this, there's a quality of their art that [i dont know how to put into words WHY] reminds me of each other, and I'm wondering if u will give me the same answer they have because I am a curious little bastard

I'm pretty sure I'm 1? I think I might have one of those brains that operate mostly on visuals. I don't need to close my eyes to see the image in my mind, it just sort of "opens in a different window" and I'm looking at reality and the mental image simultaneously.

It's never a flat picture, I see a 3D model of sorts, and I can rotate it around, cut it into pieces, look "through it" to see it from outside and inside at the same time, and arrange it to different poses if it's a character. Sometimes when I'm drawing something, I imagine what it would feel like to touch it and hold it in my hands, and that helps me to figure out how to convey a better sense of volume and tangibility.

I also think in images (or, like, gifs?) and I've never had an internal monologue. It surprised me when I heard that some people actually have a narrator in their heads, I can't imagine what it's like.

It's not always fun though, sometimes I get pretty nasty intrusive thoughts and they come in forms of vivid and very unpleasant mental images. Like visiting a relative's grave and being hit with a crisp picture of their decomposing body. Or getting those "I could walk in front of that car/ jump down from here" call of the void thoughts and instantly getting a brain illustration of it playing out from an onlooker's point of view and what the aftermath would look like. They're most distressing when it's bad things happening to someone I care about, for example I have a really persistent one about accidentally slamming a door on my cat and seeing him crushed and dying.

Oddly enough it doesn't extend to all visual thinking. My mind's eye and visual memory work well, but I also have severe face blindness and practically nonexistent ability to form mental spatial maps of my surroundings.

[musicarenagh]

Katanak Blinds You With The 'Lights Of Tokyo' Growing up in a musical family has really influenced the creation of singer and songwriter Katanak. He started his music career as a drummer in a grunge band and has since then progressed to writing indie rock/pop which is quite bright and colorful. Although Katanak took some musical lessons, he felt that wasn’t really his style, he later adopted the act of playing by ear, and since then he has progressed in the musical world. His latest single ‘Lights of Tokyo’ is one of the songs that highlights the pleasurable moments in life. Lights of Tokyo is a feel-good song with explosive guitar riffs and a breathtaking drumline that transports the listener into another dimension. In a recent interview with Mister Styx of Musicarenagh, Katanak was asked about the main inspiration behind ‘Lights of Tokyo’ and this is what he said about the song; The song is about my mate who was in Tokyo and met someone one night. ‘Lights of Tokyo’ just summed up the brightness of the city night and where he was at the time. With this in mind, it makes clear sense why the song has a happy feel to it with awesome instrumentation. It’s an upbeat, modern indie pop/rock song that captures the excitement and energy of being in a foreign city, not being able to speak the language, and being swept up in that atmosphere of meeting someone new. Get the full story below while enjoying Lights of Tokyo Follow Katanak on Facebook Twitter Spotify Soundcloud Bandcamp Youtube Instagram Songkick Tiktok What is your stage name? I go by the name of Katanak. Is there a story behind your stage name? My real surname is Cattanach. It’s a Scottish surname, and people have trouble saying it or spelling it, so I tried to make it easier for people by spelling it phonetically. Where do you find inspiration? Mostly from my friends and some from my own life. Are you from a musical or artistic family? Both my father and uncle are in bands so I grew up with music in the family. Who inspired you to be a part of the music industry? My father and uncle. How did you learn to sing/write/to play? I did do lessons early on but lessons weren’t my preferred way to learn. They were too rigid. I ended up playing everything by ear and I still struggle reading music. [caption id="attachment_49424" align="alignnone" width="720"] I did do lessons early on but lessons weren’t my preferred way to learn.[/caption] What was the first concert that you ever went to and who did you see perform? Pete Murray How could you describe your music? Fun, energetic and colourful! Did your style evolve since the beginning of your career? I started as a drummer in a grunge band and I’ve progressed to writing indie rock/pop which is quite bright and colourful. So I would say yes, haha! Who do you see as your main competitor? I have no competitors, only people I can learn from. What are your interests outside of music? Who has time for interests outside music? I work full time, so my music is my interest and I have to fit it in music around everything else going on. If it wasn't a music career, what would you be doing? Not even worth thinking about! I need music to feed my soul. What is the biggest problem you have encountered in the journey of music? Having people discover my music. Only a very small portion of people are open to hearing new music and even getting radio play is hard because stations are so dependent on advertising dollars that they are quite open in saying ‘you won’t bring us any money’. It’s a very noisy world out there and the big companies keep pushing the bigger names. It’s easy to fall by the wayside. If you could change one thing in the music industry, what would it be? I’m sure a lot of people at my level would say the same thing. Paying artists more. There is a whole industry built around the artist’s music, from labels, streaming services, recording, mastering, PR,

managers, distributors, etc and they all get paid and the artist that writes the song takes the scraps that are left. None of that would exist if there was no music, so a little more recognition and the ability to be able to support ourselves financially, I think, isn’t too much to ask. Why did you choose this as the title of this project? The song is about my mate who was in Tokyo and met someone one night. ‘Lights of Tokyo’ just summed up the brightness of the city night and where he was at the time. https://open.spotify.com/artist/2Lpg4Eg7oujto0K2CPbHyc?si=HzQkei0lTP2-408T6_qLIw&dl_branch=1 What are your plans for the coming months? I’ve got an east coast tour planned and I’m also going more into the production side of music. I love sitting there and working out new things I can do to music. Anyone reading this, send me a dm and let’s chat about production. Do you have any artistic collaboration plans I’m working on production with an artist here in Australia and an artist by the name of Chvrli Blvck in London and I are going to be working on a project. What message would you like to give to your fans? Thank you so far to everyone who has taken the time to listen to my music and has recommended it to friends. Keep doing that as that helps big time! Follow on socials to keep up with what I’m doing and don’t be shy! DM me and let me know how you found my music.

[modelbus]

Anonymous asked:

hellooooooo

can I request a cc!Wilbur were he has a crush on the reader, they work in a library. And when signing the books back in, he leaves note for them.

Have a amazing day <3

I actually love this so much; I just couldn't stop smiling while writing this. I don't know if you meant that he admired from afar, but I took kind of a different route that I haven't seen before :D

Library Love

pairing: cc!Wilbur x Gn!Reader

The first time he comes in is like any other day.

You're behind the checkout counter, reading a book you had grabbed earlier. A huge perk of your job at the library meant that you could grab a book whenever. It was awesome! But you're reading, so absorbed that you almost miss the person approaching.

Luckily, you don't miss him. It was kind of hard to, actually. He was tall, had to be reaching over six foot. With brown hair and circular glasses perched on his nose, it was a bit hard not to think of him as at least a little bit attractive.

"Could I check out these books please?" He asked, eyes meeting yours for just a second before flicking away again.

"Of course." You replied. That was kind of your whole job, after all. "Do you have a library card?"

"No."

"They're free if you want one, makes it a lot easier to check out books."

Of course, it only worked if he came back. You'd definitely never seen him before so maybe this was a one-time thing.

After a moment, he nods slowly. "Sure, I'll take one."

Oh, wow. Normally people just gave a polite nod and didn't get one. This stranger wasn't too bad then.

"Great! You just have to fill out this paperwork." Upon seeing a grimace flicker through his face, you make a joke. "Don't be scared, there's no waiver."

To your surprise, your shitty joke makes him laugh. "Thank God. I'm not legally allowed to sign them after Disney World."

"What happened in Disney world?"

With a smile, he doesn't respond. Guess he was funny, too.

When he returns the paperwork, you give it a glance before filling out the details on the computer and printing his card. His books are added onto it, a strange mix of Greek mythology and historic composers.

"Here you go. The books are due back in two weeks. Any damages you can be fined for, and failure to return them will result in a fine."

"Don't worry, I'll be back." He promises, taking both the books and his card.

With that, he strides out of the library. Strange, to get a new face. Even stranger for it to be someone as cute as him.

As you go about the rest of your day, all you can think about is the name you entered on his card.

Wilbur.

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

Luckily for you, he kept coming back.

Each time you can't help but watch him as he wanders around the library, abandoning your book. Something about him just drew your eyes to him.

When he would eventually check out more books, you'd make an effort to have a conversation. It's how you got to know that he actually writes music and plays the guitar, how you learned that he's twenty-five. It's also how he learned about you.

Somehow he was effortlessly funny, but always managed to come off as shy. From the way he avoids your eyes, you almost thought him afraid of eye contact. Undeniably, he was charming. You'd be a liar if you said you didn't have a little bit of a crush on him.

Unfortunately for you, he was just a regular. A person with increasingly odd book choices (seriously, Pride and Prejudice and The Art of War?), destined for you to never see outside the confinement of the four walls of the library.

You did enjoy seeing him though. Perhaps too much for someone you didn't even have the number of. Well, that was a lie. He had written it down on the paperwork as required, but that felt too weird.

For now you contented yourself with looking up every time the door opened, hoping it was him. Eagerly awaiting the next time you could converse. Wilbur wasn't just a regular anymore, he was your favorite regular.

So, the second he walks in, it's not hard to notice something off about him. The smile he normally wore was gone, replaced by a nervous look. You hadn't seen him in almost two weeks, meaning he was just barely making the due date for his books.

For a guy who had been showing up three times a week for months, it had gotten you a little worried.

"Hey, Wil." You greet, automatically smiling just at the sight of him. "I was starting to think you were dead."

He shakes his head, mumbling something that you can't quite hear.

"Are you okay?" You ask, now getting worried.

Wilbur nods, setting the two books he holds on the counter.

"Gotta go." He quickly says, turning and rushing out.

You're left staring at the closing door, mouth open. What the hell? That wasn't normal at all. You close your eyes and think about what just occured.

He hadn't looked great, for starters. With messy hair and circles under his eyes, it was clear he lost sleep for some reason. The normally composed man had turned into a mess in two weeks.

Wait, he hadn't checked out any new books!

At least you knew he had to come back when he checked out books, but now there was nothing to force him to come back. You very well could never see him again.

Hopefully you were just jumping ahead and overthinking it though. Maybe he had gotten busy with whatever his job was or writing music. Maybe he was just too tired to uphold a conversation.

You reach forward and grab the first book, a collection of poems. You've never personally read this particular book, but he seemed to enjoy a lot of poetry. After checking it in, you place it on the book cart to shelve later.

His last book was another poetry book, one that you've actually read. It wasn't a long read, but it was quite good. When you pick it up a piece of lined notebook paper slips out from the thin pages.

Barely managing to grab it before it falls to the floor, you set the book back on the desk and unfold the paper. He had never left anything in a book before, but maybe this was important.

Eyes skimming through, trying your best not to invade his privacy, you almost miss the fact it's a letter. And not to anybody, but to you. He had written you a letter and left it in the book.

Now aware that it's meant for your eyes, you reread it. Carefully this time, soaking up each and every word.

I keep reading these poetry books to try and write a poem of my own to impress you into going on a date with me, but it's not working. My apologies if this is weird, but I just can't stop thinking about you. Ever since the moment I walked into the library, you've consumed my every thought to the point where I come back just for you. You're just I think I'm rambling. Sorry. Would you be interested in going on a date with me?

Wilbur

He was asking you on a date. Somehow, the letter, short and scrawled messily with crossed out words, was the most romantic thing you've ever read. From Shakespeare to Austen, nothing came close.

Suddenly his behavior all made sense. The way he rushed out, how he avoided your eyes. He was nervous!

The idea that you'd refuse is so ridiculous that you almost laugh. Searching for your phone, you're about to message him when you freeze.

The idiot didn't include his phone number.

[asshlyyyy]

Music of Love (Austin Butler x Reader)

I am killing it with these requests. I am just pumping them out like its no tomorrow. That being said, there are still many request that I have to work on. This is an anonymous ask, so, whomever you are... I hope you enjoy. 

I couldn’t think of a song, mostly because I was brain dead and wasn’t thinking much creatively... so, you get to pick your own song! Ain’t that fun? Anyways, its only mentioned once, but you can think of this song throughout the whole fic. 

Apparently I was supposed to post this tomorrow but- I fucking suck so that is my fault- Tomorrow’s post will be moved to Friday- I hope everyone has a great Thanksgiving if you are celebrating!

Masterlist

Pairing: Austin Butler x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Implied smut (aka implied sex) towards the end, spelling and grammatical errors most likely. 

Word Count: 1.3k

You have never been gifted with the musical trial. You couldn’t really grasp the understanding of playing an instrument. Sheet music was one of the most confusing things you have ever looked at… You could only understand when there were lyrics on them, and at that point, you only knew how to read the words. 

How many musical notes were there? Because when they are all combined together onto a piece of sheet music. Well, they all either looked the same, or they didn’t look alike whatsoever. From an early age, you just knew there was no way you could learn an instrument. 

Well, that was until you met Austin. He was talented in many ways you weren’t. For example, he could play the piano and guitar. He could probably play some other instruments, but these were the ones you knew the most of.

When he got the role of Elvis you saw him change. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but he put his heart and soul into this role. He knew how important it was to do good… and he did more than good. He did amazing. It was like he became Elvis himself. While the two of you will never know how the real Elvis was, due to your age, this movie gave people that.

You learned a thing or two while he constantly practiced. He played piano and guitar a bunch, even though he didn’t need to. He was already talented enough, he just wanted to pick up on how Elvis did those things. You can appreciate all the hard work he did. You just want him to take a break once in a while. 

However, when he was playing one of two instruments… you sat in with him. Sure, you didn’t really grasp what he was doing, but it was still nice. He tried to show you something once in a while, but you struggled the most with the piano. While you could learn simple nurse rhymes that used three keys… you couldn’t play a whole Elvis song as he could. 

When it came to the guitar, somehow it just made sense? You didn’t necessarily need to look at sheet music… you could just play it by ear. You weren’t exactly perfect like Austin was, but you picked it up. So, when he wasn’t home… you practiced.  You wanted to be able to surprise him one day. 

So, here you are currently. You sat on the couch in your shared home with Austin. You held his guitar in your arms. You were trying to perfect a song, but let's be honest… it was taking much longer than expected. It’s not like you thought it would be learned just like that… but you did want to finish it before he got home. 

You played this song repeatedly. In some parts, you had down… other parts you did not. Maybe you should have taken on a much easier song. Maybe like Black In Black. It had some hard moments, but towards the end, it was just a repeat. 

You let out a sigh and threw your head back. You put a pause on the song and rubbed your face. You didn’t know how you were going to finish this song today. Maybe you didn’t have to. You had plenty of other interviews and whatnot almost every day this week. You basically had till the end of the week. 

“What am I going to do?” You said softly and shook your head. You looked down at the clock and tossed your phone over to the side of the couch. You still had a few hours until Austin gets home. You could start dinner? Or, you can just keep pushing yourself. 

Let’s go with the second option. Because the sooner you finish this, the sooner it will be over, and you can surprise him. That sounded nice. You picked the guitar up and continue to play it… until you physically couldn’t anymore, or until Austin came home.

“Hey, sweetheart,” you jumped at the sound and turned quickly to spot Austin. What? What was he doing here? He wasn’t supposed to be home till much later. 

“Austin? What are you? Why are you home?” You asked confused as you pushed the guitar off to the side. 

“Because I’m done for the day, were you playing?” He asked as he walked around the couch so that he could join you. 

“What do you mean you’re done? It’s only two.” You told him. Austin looked at you confused and sat down beside you. He reached out and pushed a piece of story hair behind your ear. 

“It’s six,  Y/n.” Austin corrected you and caressed your cheek before he moved to fill your forehead. “Are you feeling sick?”

“No no, I must’ve just lost track of time. Last I checked… it was a bit passed two.” You told him. Austin nodded and pulled his hand away. 

“Have you eaten yet?” He asked as he reached for his phone. Most likely to go ahead and order something. 

“Not since lunchtime.” You told him. He hummed in response and nodded. He went ahead and typed away on his phone. You stood up and went to put the guitar away when Austin stopped you.

“Keep it here. I’ll help you,” Austin said as he looked up at you. You nodded and sat back down. You leaned into the couch and closed your eyes. “It’ll be here in forty to fifty minutes.”

“Thank you,” you said with a soft smile. Austin nodded and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“Now, what were you trying to play?” He asked as he picked up the guitar. You were trying to determine if you wanted to tell him the truth, or just lie to him and still keep the surprise. Then again, you never lied to Austin, and you didn’t want to start now. 

“I was going to learn how to play [song of choice] to surprise you… I got a few parts but… couldn’t figure out the rest.” You admitted. Austin smiled and wrapped an arm around you bringing you closer.

“That’s so cute and so hot at the same time.” You let out a laugh and shook your head. You slapped Austin’s chest and looked away. “I’m being serious! Do you know how often I dream of you playing guitar?”

‘Do I want to know?” You jokingly asked. Austin shook his head and pulled you onto his lap.

He positioned the guitar on your lap and held your hands under his. “I know that song by heart. Let me so you.” He said softly as he guided your fingers along the strings. You hummed against his chest and rested against his chest.

Austin started to sing the song softly behind you. Guiding your hands to create the perfect tune. Sure, you could count this as a win, but Austin helped you with the song. You knew one day you would learn the song completely… but for now… this was a nice change of pace.

After he finished the song he pressed a kiss against your neck. You hummed once more and turned to look at him. You just wanted him, and you could tell that he wanted you as well.

“How long until the food comes?” You asked.

“Forty to Fifty minutes.”

“That’s more than enough time,” you whispered and grabbed his face. You kissed him and lightly pulled at the ends of his hair. He placed the guitar off to the side and placed his hands on your waist. 

You just knew that the rest of the night was about to be heaven… You had Austin… and soon you would have his… gotta keep some things to the imagination. You’ll have your diner and yet again, you’ll have Austin. No matter what, when you were with Austin… you were in heaven.

Want to join my taglist? // Let me know If I spelt any wrong! I have updated my form for my taglist. You will be tagged under everything now in that selected fandom/person. Just makes my life easier.

Taglist: @babyhoneypresley, @mirandastuckinthe80s, @mommy-maia, @yagirlalexx, @alligator-person, @diorxmimi, @anangelwhodidntfall, @pumkiinpasties, @djconde58, @21bruhs, @girlblogger2002, @dollfaceyourfear, @homebodybirkin2003, @dark-as-love, @pandora-journey, @hsstylesrings, @4everrmore, @bewitched-tales, @butlersluvbot, @curatedbyemily, @gyomei-tiddies, @wandawiccan60, @re3kin, @passengerjett, @neepo, @vane28282, @emilykolchivans, @gothantoinette, @gruffle1, @annamarie16, @misacc08, @marchingicenotes7, @callthedarknessdown, @domaniquessidehoe, @gay-af-satan, @skinnypantsmcgee, @sassyblazecloud,  @lordandmistress, @nuo0n, @coldonexx, @adoreyouusugar​, @aliciaelle47, @danitheedanimal, @raefoxiegirl, @cobra-kaii, @rylee-durhxm, @crabat-the-queen, @austinbutlersgirlfriend, @hopefulinlove, @aradevil, @laperceval, @xcallmetaniax, @londonalozzy, @mslizziesblog, @gloomynigvts, @randompointlessbeauty, @nora-nexus-34, @jazmin2211, @kittenlittle24, @moonbird1507, @bobthefishiesworld, @cevans-winchester, @luckyevansstan, @noorreads, @normatural, @hauntedarchivesx, @thatcrazyfangirl22, @amiets2, @myguiltypleasures21, @poppet05, @xcallmetaniax, @fullmetal-falcon, @kaitaesupremacy, @rainydayz101, @asd-n-adhd-fox, @eliseinmemphis, @adaydreamaway08, @stitchattacks @vintagegirl50s60s70s80s, @dkayfixates, @fa1ryprincess222, @austinstyles

[stripteas3]

tewkesbury headcannons

hello everybody here are some headcannons for my favorite boy

not my gif!!

a/n: this is kinda gonna be set in a modern a/u bc it’s easier to work with and i am lazy🙏🙏

warnings: smoking!!!

okay, first things first, let’s get it out of the way, he’s so stylish.

he would def ask you to paint his nails and put makeup on him just to get a rise out of his grandma

he always gives you flowers because, tewkesbury is tewkesbury.

he loves, loves, LOVES. being called a pretty boy. especially when you add a ‘my’ before it. he melts.

he met you through enola and he thought you guys were dating at first so he was upset for a long time.

he loves jewelry, nothing fancy, cute little handmade bracelets and wire rings.

he loves music, and plays guitar.

you play drums so always talk about making a band.

he’s not really the jealous type, but when he is he usually just makes fun of the guy subtly. “did you get dressed in the dark?” and then he feels bad because, say it with me, tewkesbury is tewkesbury.

he loves going to rooftops and smoke, it’s relaxing to him.

he once invited you and it became your thing.

he once saw you braid your hair and he begged you to teach him, no arguing.

his favorite songs are love my way by the psychedelic furs, just like heaven by the cure, and under my thumb by the rolling stones.

why? because i said so?

he loves writing, so finding miscellaneous love letters is normal.

when he’s anxious he loves having you read to him

all he wants to be is the best boyfriend for you, nothing more

he really liked sour by olivia rodrigo, he cried to it even though he had never been heartbroken

he thinks you’re the most beautiful being to ever exist. and he makes sure you know it.

his kisses are so soft and tender, so so cute.

he loves how you mutually teach each other things.

he “never cared for his hair”, but you did. you loved it. could never keep your hands off of it.

he moves around a lot when you guys sleep, so waking up with no blanket on you isn’t strange.

he’s a little bratty toddler sometimes, but you’ve learned to live with it

at the end of the day, you guys are absolutely the cutest couple.

and he’s proud of it

he loves you

and you love him

[idamariaw]

A one-shot where you meet a british man, a bit clumsy for his own good sometimes but at least it brought him to you.

This is dedicated to @atlafan, Happy Birthday 🌸

The air was humid, warm and had a strong scent of your favourite jasmin bodywash as you carefully stepped out of the bathtub to continue to get ready for your date tonight. A date that you’ve been looking forward to all week and made it way easier to get through classes and exams, even though you didn’t know much about Harry yet. That was his name, Harry Styles.

You met him just over a month ago in the coffee shop near your apartment where you spend most off your afternoons to study or read, the earthy and warm environment having a calming effect and the staff always sweet. You were reading an article for your course in political science, Stevie Nicks ’Wild Heart’ playing with your notes and books neatly in a pile by your side as eveything sudden flew to the ground with a large thud. It startled you a bit and you took your headphones off to register what caused the mess while you heard a voice beneeth you along your dropped belongings,

”Shit! I-i’m so sorry. My guitar bag got stuck in the corner of your books, I really didn’t mean to.”

A mop of chocolate curls cought your eyes while speaking to you with his deep voice and keeping to apologize even though it didn’t matter, you knew it was an accident. After picking up your things he got up to his feet and you got the oppurtunity to really look at him now. Tall, broad build at the shoulders, skinny jeans with a button up in different patterns, curls to his chin and the most beautiful green eyes you’ve ever seen.

”I’m so fuckin’ clumsy, first time at this coffee shop and this happens.” Now you noticed he had an accent, a british one? Well if your cheeks weren’t burning before they sure were now.

”Oh no it’s okay! I promise. Accidents happen, i’m pretty clumsy myself so you’re not alone. I was getting zoned out on my work anyway so you helped me with that” You said with a smile to reasure you’re not irritated or anything.

”Thank you for trying to make me feel better, but your muffin got on the ground as well. Let me buy you another please?” He furrowed his eyebrows a bit and pouted his heartshaped lips and you just couldn’t say no.

”Oh and I’m Harry by the way, Harry Styles.”

After that you asked him to sit down with you and tried to give him a good impression of the shop although it’s caotic beggining. You learned that he actually was brittish, was majoring in English Literature, wrote music and sang covers with his band.

You met him every now and then the following weeks and after sharing a carrot cake with a latte a few days ago he finally got the courage to ask you what you thought about for weeks,

”Would you be willing to see me outside this coffee shop for dinner on Friday? Please?”

And here you were, freshly out the bath and in your closet looking for an outfit. It was early autumn and Harry said he’d pick you up at 6, so a leo printed long skirt and a sage green knitted sweather along with maroon converse and a bamboo knitted purse with some jewelry would work. A pretty little matching lace bralette and panties underneath just in case things would go that way. Just as you put on a layer of your strawberry flavoured lip gloss you heard the doorbell ring and your heart skipped a beat. You looked over yourself once more before getting your purse and rushed to the door.

There he stood, so good looking it almost made you angry, with his signature black skinny jeans, a black button up, brown boots, a tan coat and hair up in a bun.

”Hello darling, I’m sorry if i’m a tad early. These are for you by the way.” He came in for a hug and kissed your cheek as he handed you a bouquet of red roses and you got a chance to take in his strongly scented perfume that consumed your senses.

”No I was just ready so it’s okay! Wow thank you, i’ve never gotten flowers before. I’m just gonna put these in a vase and I’ll be right with you.” He furrowed his eyebrows a bit as he leaned against the treeshold.

”Really? Hm I’ll remember that then. I’ll just wait by the car, we’re going for a drive about 20 minutes away if that’s okay. Take your time darling.”

As said, he waited by the car and opened the door for you on the passenger side and then you were on you way.

”Can I have a guess at where we’re going? Dinner somewhere maybe?” You asked even though you didn’t really have any but you’ve always loved surprises and he didn’t even know that.

”Well you can guess darling but i’m not sure you’re gonna figure it out that easy. But yes, we will have dinner in a way.” He answered you with a crooked smirk, showcasting his dimples.

After the 20 minute drive he parked by a black steele double gate leading the way to something you were quite familiar with but haven’t visited in ages.

”The botanical garden?” You asked surprised while Harry opened the door for you to step out.

”Yeah, is that alright with you? I figured as you like the atmosphere at the coffee shop so much this could be nice.” He said a bit shyly.

”Are you kidding me? Ofcourse I love it, I used to be here as a kid with my parents a lot but haven’t been in ages!”

”Thank god, I got nervous there for a second. I’m just gonna get some things in the car but you can start walking up and I’ll meet you at the front.” He said as he started to pick some things out from the back.

You felt giddy and excited as you approach the building and started to walk up to the front like Harry told you. It was when you came to the entrance that you noticed it’s closed and locked. Did Harry know this? Then you felt a hand at the small of your back and the smell of his perfume announced his presens as you turned around and what you saw made you melt to a puddle inside. The guitarbag was secured aganist his back and in his arms he held a picnic basket with a blanket and filled with all kind of goods.

”An evening picnic at the botanical garden with some live music, can’t go wrong with that can we?” He said with a cheeky shrug even though you could sense the nerves in his eyes.

”Seriously? That’s so nice Harry, oh my god. It’s to much to be honest. But how do we get in? And is it even aloud?” You didn’t want to doubt him or his plans but you couldn’t help it as it was actually closed.

”Hm don’t need to doubt me darling. I know the owners son as I helped him with a poem analysis in our class so he owned me a favour.” He explanied as he fished up the key in his coatpocket and opened the door with ease.

The setting and environment was everything you remembered from when you were younger and visited this place, green and thriving plants and vegetation everywhere, even a little pond in the middle with a fountain. The ceiling was made of pure glass so you could clearly see the sky that began to darken and stars starting to shine through, it was breathtaking.

”I was thinking we could set up and get up these stairs close to the roof to we get the best view.” You heard Harry speak up as he lead the way up to a white spiral stair that got you to a spot near the roof to spread out everything and sit comfortably.

He really didn’t spare anything on the food or drink, a nice rosé wine, fruits and berries of all kinds and a fancy charcuterie board.

”Harry I hope you know that you didn’t really need to do so much for our date, a romcom with a burger and fries would have been just as nice. But I really appriciate this, thank you so much.” So said honestly because it was true, just being with him was more than enough.

”Thank you for being honest darling but it’s not to much. You deserve the effort and I want to show you how important this is for me, how important you are for me. Feed me a strawberry please? And do you have any song requests?” He said as he brought up the guitar from its bag.

”Maybe ’Leather and Lace’ by Stevie Nicks if you know that one?” You asked softly as you brought the strawberry to his pouty heartshaped lips and your throat got a bit dry when he hummed against the fruit as he took a bite.

”Mmh, thank you darling. And yes I know that one, a pretty big Stevie fan myself actually.”

He said as he started to play the strings on the guitar, the melody started to fill the garden and softly singing the lyrics made everything complete. It was almost like the man in front of you couldn’t be real with how perfect he looked.

”You’ve been staring at my lips quite a lot this evening.”He said taking out of your trance and making you blush down your neck.

”W-what? Oh i’m sorry Harry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable…” You started to explain yourself but he cut you off quickly,

”Shh, no darling it didn’t make me uncomforable at all. Come here please.” He made grabby hands at you as you sat opposite to him on the blanket so you could come up to his lap.

”I promise you it didn’t. I’ve been looking at you too you know, so beautiful today it makes my heart ache. So happy and thankful, proper cuite you are. Must have the sweetest mouth to. Would you let me have a taste?” He said as his fingers came to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and lips almost touching yours.

”Yes Harry please.” You almost whimpered against his mouth until you felt his lips softly pressing aganist yours. You shifted in his lap to wrap your fingers in the nape of his neck below the bun to deepen the kiss, Harry leaning back to take a breath.

”Tastes like strawberrys darling, gonna give me a toothache with this sweet mouth of yours.”

You continued to kiss for a while and as he moved down to your neck he felt you shift against him more and he got the courage to lay you down on the blanket and hover over you to get better acess to the rest of you.

”Can I take this off? Or will you be cold?” He asked while playing with the hem of your sweather.

”No I want it off please, I won’t be cold.” You barely finished the sentence before the sweather was off and Harry started to kiss from you neck down to the crease of your breasts.

”Smells like flowers darling, and so soft. Perfect tits you have.” His raspy voice sent a shudder down your core the same time as he carefully touched your breasts and started to kiss them through your lacy bralette.

”What’s this hm? A fuckin nipple piercing? Almost as if you’re tryin to kill me, fuck.” Oh yeah, you almost forgot about that one in your right nipple and he sucked and nipped at it as a man obsessed.

Being teased and played with for so long now made you whimper again and you tried to buck your hips into him for more friction now as you started to ache from your lower region.

Harry noticed this and made the decision to use this against his favor.

”Do you want my mouth somewhere else darling? Seems like your aching pretty bad. Or fingers maybe? Need you to talk to me.”

”Yes please, I want your mouth on me so bad. Please Harry.” If you weren’t so worked up you would feel embarassed for your neediness but you just couldn’t care right now.

”So polite, ofcourse I’ll give it to you. Anything you want, you’ll have. Can I take the skirt off?”

You nodded quickly and he got down so he was facing your core and budged up the skirt around your hips. He kissed your mound over your panties and looked up at you with a cheeky smirk.

”Matching knickers, hm? You’re flattering me darling, being so pretty for me.”

”I-i was just being hopeful…” You let out a breathy laugh at his observation feeling the blush creeping to your cheeks again.

”I was to if i’m being honest but I didn’t want to push you into anything, i’m so thankful that you let me see you like this but I really want to take these of as pretty as they may be and taste you properly. Smells so fuckin’ good I’m going insane.” He took the panties of and let out a low growl while spreading you open with his fingers and see how you were glistening from the wetness under the starlight. Going in for a long stripe with his tounge from your slit to your swollen nub, sucking and nibbling at it just the right way to make you give out a loud shaky moan. He continued playing with your clit with his tounge and lapping up all the sweetness he could get while he felt your legs starting to shake against his head and your moans only got louder.

”Making such pretty noices for me darling, keep going. Need to know that I make you feel good. Want my fingers as well while I play with your clit? Already so swollen for me.”

”Yes fuck i’m gonna cum soon, please Harry I want your fingers please…”It was all you could say before you felt two of his fingers press against your slit and tounge going back to your clit. Your hands found his hair and he let put a growl against you as you tugged on it harder than you intendent, small strais of hair coming out from the bun.

”You can cum darling, I’ve got you. Being so good for me and letting go like this. Sweetest pussy I’ve ever had, so so fucking good for me. Let me have it, please.” He continued to thrust his fingers as he said his dirty words and that sent you off the edge and gave you the most intense orgasm of your life. Small tears rolled down your cheeks and Harry kissed your inner thighs to help you come down. He licked his fingers clean and covered you again with the skirt, going up to face you and kiss your lips.

”Mmh, hi pretty girl. Felt good?” He asked nuzzling against your nose and stroking your cheek.

”Oh my god, yes. You’re literally perfect Harry, thank you.” You closed your eyes and cuddled into his side as he laid beside you looking up to the stars against the glass ceiling.

”No I’m not darling but thank you. What do you say about cleaning up and head over to mine, watch a movie and I can make you a cuppa? Sounds good?” He asked you before whispering quitly to himself ”And thank god for me being a clumsy fool.”

[capt-spooki3]

By The Witch's Grace

Route Unlocked: Wilbur

Chapter Four: One on One

A Sbi "choose your own story" fanfiction

Click here for story description

Warnings: cursing, description of anxiety, light angst, injuries, blood, talk of scars

4.7k words

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Y/n stepped down the stairs on the porch, they decided on going to see what Wilbur was doing since he was sitting next to the house. As they walked down the last step, they had turned to say hello to him but Wilbur had already hopped up with the guitar in hand and a big smile on his face when he saw them.

“Hey! Uh Y/n, good morning, I was going to ask if you could help teach me guitar?” He held the instrument up in his hands, gently like he was afraid to break it. “You seem like you’d be a good teacher.”

They looked him over and couldn’t help a smile and giggle at his gentleness.

“Yeah, I would love to teach you, here let’s go to the basement. I have my music books down there and we can get started teaching you some scales.” They offered to him, walking over to guide him to the lower doors on the home, and his eyes lit up as he followed them with excitement.

“I have to warn you though, it’s been a year or two since I’ve played anything, so I might not be as great of a teacher as you think.” They said while keeping the door held open for him to walk inside after them.

“You know more than me at least. I think that will make you a fine enough teacher” He spoke with an obvious smile in his voice, closing the door so he could follow after them and stopping only when Poppy ran up to him with a loud meow so he took a couple of moments to pet her. “I gotta go, sorry sweetie.”

Y/n jogged down the stairs, glancing back to see if Wilbur was behind but heard the soft meow of Poppy and figured he was giving her attention. They walked over to the bookcase filled with music books, all of them being hand-me-downs from the old woman from town that was practically their family now. She didn’t have any children of her own so Y/n simply took up the role for her so they inherited all of the music-related things they had. She was too busy to ever use it and happily gave it away when Y/n showed interest, but not before teaching them how to play.

They hummed while looking over the books, trying to find the one they knew had beginner information in it when Wilbur hurriedly joined them downstairs. They gave him a quick glance, seeing Poppy trailing right behind and tail held up high.

“Aww… she really likes you, Wilbur.”

He glanced back at the cat and smiled. “Yeah, well I really like…” He trailed off and slowly closed his mouth, clearly regretting the words he wanted to say. “Uhm, anyway, how do you... start learning this stuff?”

Y/n grabbed a book off the shelf and turned to face him, taking slow steps toward him as they flipped through pages and glanced over them. “Well, I watched my teacher play a few songs and had her teach me how to play the songs she did. That probably isn’t the best way to learn, but I think it worked pretty well.” They shut the book with a loud thump and extended it to him.

“If you want to learn chords and stuff first though, we can do that. Just whatever you think would be easiest for you to understand.”

He quickly set down the guitar to lean against a chair then took the book from them and opened it up, looking at the pages and trying to see if anything looked familiar or if it made any sense. Of course, it didn’t. It just looked like bunches of weird words and symbols that didn’t mean anything to him.

“I think… I’d like to hear you play.” He glanced up to meet their eyes then back to the book with a laugh. “‘Cause uh, this just looks like a mess of words.”

“Fair enough,” They started as they walked over to grab the guitar from beside him. “Honestly it took me a while to understand all that musical lingo too so I don’t blame you for wanting to start here.” They plopped down in the chair that was beside his and took the small wooden pick from between the strings on the neck of the instrument and strummed a couple of times before needing to tune a few strings.

Wilbur sat down, watching them for a moment before he focused on the book and read through a few pages while Y/n got the guitar in tune. They gave it a couple more strums before nodding their head in contentment with remembering how to get it in tune and situated it on their lap so they could play.

“Okay, I think I’m all ready. So the song I’m going to play is the first one I was taught. I can’t-” They laughed out of a bit of embarrassment, putting their fingers on the right strings. “I can’t remember who wrote it, but it was called Rounds. Now let’s see here...”

-

(cue Rounds by The Oh Hellos)

-

They strummed the chords, seeming a bit unconfident as they were afraid of messing up after not playing for so long. A good few times of repeating the same lines of music, they swayed slowly from side to side as they finally got into it.

They were so busy making sure they wouldn’t mess up that they didn’t notice Wilbur, who had long abandoned the book and was sitting as close to the side of the chair nearest to them to watch. He was leaned forward but slouched a bit since he was resting on his elbows though his eyes watched their hands move to make each new bit of sound. He didn’t miss the chance to sneak glances at their face while they were completely concentrated and not worried about him.

Y/n started to hum a soft tune along with the music, to which they didn’t even notice Wilbur softly joining in with a smile. Even as they hummed louder, loudening the strums as well, he remained undetected as he harmonized with them.

They changed the chords, dying it down, and stopped humming which indicated a change to the course of the song. They let out a breath before taking in a deep one and with the final two strums, they started.

“Am I still speaking?” They straightened and flicked their attention to Wilbur who sung the words along with them, he had a soft smile and a look of pure contentment. They couldn’t help but smile a little back at him, more in surprise than anything. They had to glance back to make sure their fingering was right but looked back at him to make sure it was really him singing with them.

“Yeah, I’m long in the wind.” He dipped his head down a bit, then looked away but continued to sing. “I’ll go on and on and on again, if my chest don't cave in.”

They cut the strum short with their palm and he looked back at them, confused. “You know this song!? There’s no way.”

“Oh really? Well, what about if I…” He averted his gaze, thinking for a moment before looking back to sing again. “Be the sun as my witness! Better prophets could pen. A thousand words for every chord I could ever begin.”

“No way…”

He giggled a little at their astonishment. “That’s my favorite verse.”

"Well, now you've gotta tell me where you learned that." Y/n eyed him with a smile before turning back to the guitar as they played over some of the later parts in the song, but still casting little glances as they waited for him to speak.

"One of the maids back at the castle actually, she was like a second mother after Kristen passed, she sang that song a lot. I helped clean clothes when I wasn't on duty or training." He explained, sitting up and leaning back in the chair but still watching Y/n. "I didn’t know there was music to it though, your humming kinda shot the memory back into me."

“So you know the whole thing?”

“I believe so, why?”

They stopped playing random chords and turned their body to him so he could fully see the guitar this time. “Let’s start again. Watch my hands okay?” With a smile at him, they looked back at the strings and started the song over again but with more confidence. They tapped their foot to the beat this playthrough of the song to keep themself in time.

They played through the song flawlessly, but Wilbur was unsatisfied as he didn’t have the chords down. So they played through it again and again. By the fourth time they ended the song, Wilbur was sitting crisscrossed in the chair, hands in his hair with a confused and completely lost look on his face from not retaining any of what they played enough to try for himself. Y/n laughed to themself and stood up, stretching their body from sitting in the same position for so long.

“Okay, I have an idea if you’re comfortable with it.” They looked down to him as he messed up his hair, smoothing it all down, and watched them curiously. “I can sit on the ground with you, so it’d be easier to help, and direct your hands. We can take it chord by chord, but it’s pretty repetitive so I think you’ll do good with it.”

“Absolutely because I am so lost. Like how do you memorize this stuff? I could never.” He said while moving off the chair to sit on the rug just under the chairs.

“You’ll get it, don't worry. I swear it’s not as hard as you might think once you play enough.” They sat down right in front of him and handed him the guitar. He took it slowly and held it awkwardly, obviously very unsure of how he should be holding it. Holding back on giggling, they scooted closer and guided his hands and the instrument to its proper placements then let him get comfortable with holding it.

“Ready?”

He glanced up at them then back down to his hands and the guitar, nodding a little bit. “Yeah… yeah, I think so.”

With that, they directed him on where to put his fingers for each chord and when he needed it, moved his hands themself or held their hand over his so he could get a feel on how to hold it. They were incredibly patient with him even with his ever so often apology for not being the fastest learner, he was trying hard to understand and remember how to play each chord they taught him. It got easier when they got into the system to teach him one chord then play the chords he knows to revise them all in a way. And after a while, he had all the needed notes down for the entire song.

“Wait, that's it? I did it?” Wilbur sat up straight and when they nodded, he gasped and smiled before moving closer so their knees were touching. “Okay, okay teach me how it goes, I’m ready!”

“Okay! Okay,” They stopped to giggle and thought for a second to make sure they told him the right notes.

The song slowly came together, it was slower than it should be played and he messed up quite a bit but none of it discouraged him. Wilbur never once got frustrated and would just silently correct himself and look for affirmation that he did well. And once he got comfortable with the song and played through it completely, Y/n sang softly to put it all together. Needless to say, he got distracted by them and when he tried to recover, fumbled with the strings and grew flustered by his obvious nervousness. 

He let out a soft sigh, staring at the strings and very clearly thinking or seeming like he wanted to speak.

“Are you okay?” They leaned down to get into his view to which he looked at them and back at the guitar, smiling with a little laugh.

“Yeah, yeah I was just thinking… you know if you were a musical term, I think melody would fit you best.”

“You think?” He nodded confidently. “Well explain then, why would I be the melody?”

“Well truthfully, you just remind me of music. Like the parts of it that can be addicting but also more soothing than anything else, even the part of it that moves you to your core.” He met their eyes, holding the contact as he tipped his head to the side. “Yeah… just the embodiment of music. But if you were to fit somewhere specifically it would be the melody.”

They opened their mouth to ask him another question so he could talk about this more, but the sound of the front door opening and closing caught both of their attention with Phil’s voice following after.

“Y/n? Wilbur?”

“Down here!” Y/n called, leaning back to look over at the stairs. Phil made his way down the stairs and stalled as he looked over the scene of the two but just smiled.

“Hey, I’m going to start cooking. You two take a break and come help me, alright?” He told them before heading back up the stairs. Poppy, who had been fast asleep in one of the plush chairs, had perked up when hearing Phil and jumped off and ran past Y/n and Wilbur to follow him upstairs. They both put away the couple of things they got out before walking upstairs and to the kitchen.

“But seriously Wilbur, you’re doing really well. You kept going strong no matter how many times you messed up. I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you Y/n, maybe I’ll get better than you.” He teased, shoving them lightly with his shoulder and earning a shove right back before they walked ahead of him to see Phil. He was already busy dicing an onion with some meat already cooking.

Phil looked back when the two approached him but quickly turned back to watch his hands. “What were you two up to? It looked like you were teaching Wilbur guitar.”

“They were and I have to say,” Wilbur leaned on the counter beside Phil. “I think I’m doing pretty well. In all honesty, I think I might be a melomaniac.” He looked over at Y/n and looked them up and down with a smile, but turned back to Phil and talked about whenever he found interesting from learning to play the guitar as if what he did never happened. 

-

“Come on, just look through it with me please!!” Wilbur begged Y/n, walking around in front of them to stop them from walking out the door as he held a thick book in hand.

The whole morning he had been trying to get Y/n to tell him what their favorite song was and as soon as he got the dreaded ‘I don’t know’ he raced to find the biggest music book he could so they could find one to show him. They were supposed to go practice magic with Phil as soon as they were done eating and didn’t want to leave him waiting any longer than they had to.

“I’m sorry, I can’t right now. Look I will once I’m done I promise!” They pushed his arm gently to get him to move, but all they got was a pout out of him. They rolled their eyes and sighed, taking a step back. “Okay um, I remember a song in one of those books. It was one of my favorites to play. Uh, one of the lines was… ‘days fade into a watercolor blur’ but I can't remember the name right now, can I go?”

“Yes! Absolutely, thank you my melody, I hope your magic lessons go well!” He patted their back before he raced off past them and assumably down to the basement, leaving them very caught off guard.

“Melody..?” They stood there thinking for a moment, but shook it off and headed out of the door to find Phil. He said he’d be sitting with the chickens that morning so obviously, that was their first place to look. Just as expected, he was sitting in the dirt with a rooster in his lap and a few of the rooster’s hens hanging around. Phil glanced up and when noticing Y/n he smiled and waved them over.

“Hey! Sorry, I meant to be here sooner but Wilbur was insistent that I show him my favorite song from my music books.” They explained, walking slower when they neared Phil as to not disturb the chickens and sat down in front of him.

He chuckled and watched the rooster as he pets him. “That’s quite alright mate. He’s really taken a  liking to you, I’m sure you’ve already been able to tell though.” He just smiled fondly, taking in a deep breath. “He never has been one for keeping his feelings hidden away, just like with Sally, the poor boy wears his heart on his sleeve. I bet he doesn’t even realize, he probably thinks he’s being so sly.”

Y/n laughed a little bit at his assessment. Phil was spot on, but after raising someone it wouldn’t be too hard to know all about them. They reached out when a hen came out to them and stroked the side of her face with their finger. “He’s sweet though, I didn’t expect him to be so eager to take up all my time.”

“Well…” They looked up at Phil when he trailed off then followed his eyes when he looked over to the house. They then noticed Technoblade sitting beside the house, obviously meditating. “In case you get tired of Will, you can always go give Techno some company. I think he’d like your presence.” Turning back to Phil, he watched them with a hopeful expression but dropped it when they just stared at him. He slowly got up, giving the rooster time to hop off his lap.

“You don’t have to for my sake, I just think it would do him good to have a partner- er uh-” He stopped, fumbling over words a little bit. “I mean- like a friend. A companion. But choose who you wish! I’m not picking sides here.” A blatant lie. They couldn’t help but laugh at him.

Y/n stood up, assuming Phil wanted to move somewhere else. “Of course, Of course. I think it would be hard to get tired of him though.” They watched the hen they were giving attention peck around on the ground near their feet. “He’s giving me a new found passion for music because of his excitement towards it, it’s refreshing.”

He chuckled softly, walking past them and patting their shoulder. They turned to follow him and stayed quiet while they walked slightly behind him but at his side. He stopped at the tree line and looked in, seeming a bit lost in thought, and turned to them after a moment.

“Y/n, would you mind telling me about the eye?”

They went quiet, not sure how to respond as the light heartedness of the situation was stripped from them at the mention. Instead, they looked down at the necklace which forever hung around their neck. At this point, it felt more like something chaining them down than a tool to help them be a better mage like they hoped it would be. “Where do I even start?” They tried to laugh off the lump rising in their throat but looking up and meeting Phil’s worried expression just made tears prick their eyes. He took a step closer to them, but they took a few back in response. “No, no I’m fine just… I’m okay.” They kept their eyes on the ground, sniffling as they felt a tear run down their cheek.

“Mate, we don’t have to talk about it if it’s hard to.” Phil said softly, keeping his distance from them.

“It just… made me realize how afraid it made me. It's…” They looked up suddenly, still having tears in their eyes. “Phil, it’s taken over me. It’s- it’s possessed me! I was so scared when it happened. I mean it has only happened twice but what happens when it does again!? I don’t- I-I don’t know…” Their breaths got caught in their throat and they took short shuddering gasps trying their hardest to contain it and not break down. Not here, not in front of someone they just started to know and trust. They felt their legs start to get weak and their vision was nothing but a blur from the tears.

Phil grabbed ahold of their arms and they met his eyes, now noticing how hard they were breathing. He pulled them in and hugged them tightly to which they held onto him, using him as a solid form to help them ground themself again. They mumbled small things about how scary it was to wake up halfway down their forest path to town and how they could feel the evilness of the eye right before it took over. He stayed quiet and listened to them, rubbing their back slowly once they had calmed down a little.

They took a deep breath and rested their forehead against his shoulder. Finally releasing a little bit of the pent-up fear and anxiety that was building up around the eye had lifted the static that festered in their chest. “Phil…” Y/n said quietly as they slowly pulled away from him though they kept their eyes averted away. “Is there anything I can do to get rid of this?”

“I…” He started but trailed off. It was clear he was clueless, still, he cleared his throat and reached over to rub their arm comfortingly. “I’ll figure something out. I promise.” They looked back at him and he smiled at them which finally earned a small smile in return. “Do you still want to learn some magic? I know some music-related spells.” When their eyes lit up a bit, he chuckled and took a seat on the ground, ushering them to join him.

Y/n spent most of the day outside with Phil. He taught them little spells and tricks to incorporate magic into their music, he sang a few songs as a way to show them and it turned out he had a rather nice voice. A few times when they got caught up in emotions, he offered fatherly advice and joked with them to lighten the mood. He was quickly growing to be like the father they never had… or at least remembered having. It was until he was in the middle of meditating with them that Tommy came up to them, he was dirty and holding onto his forearm with a bit of blood that was seeping through his fingers. Y/n saw him first as they opened an eye when hearing footsteps approaching them. He kept his eyes on the ground, clearly trying to make it seem like he didn’t have tears in his eyes.

They jumped up and ran over to him, startling Phil who finally noticed his son. “Oh, Tommy what happened!?” They reached over to look at his arm, he pulled away at first and they looked at him. He met their eyes and sniffled again, finally letting his arm go to show them a deep cut that was actively bleeding. “Oh my gosh, are you okay? You’re not hurt anywhere else are you?” They asked him while taking off the cloth they were using as a belt and wrapped it around his arm to help maintain the bleeding and checked him over right after. Phil was beside them now, looking Tommy over while he stared at the ground.

“I didn’t think the sheep could actually be that scary, I-” He hiccuped a little, squeezing his eyes shut to stop himself from crying more but they fell anyway. It seemed that getting hurt overwhelmed him. Phil brushed some of his hair back and softly consoled him to calm him down. It took a moment, but he started talking again. “I was messing with them and tried getting on one’s back, it bucked me off and that upset a few of them and they ran at me. I was running away and tried jumping over the fence and that… obviously didn’t go well for me.”

“Aw… yeah it’s barbed wire. Let’s get you inside, I can help you clean this-”

“It’ll take too long, it’ll get infected if we let it be.” Phil butted in and moved Y/n’s hands off of Tommy’s arm. He undid the cloth that was thoroughly bloody now and gave it back to Y/n. He gently put his hand over the cut and kept it there as it glowed a soft white, within no time he took it away and the wound had closed up enough that it wasn’t open. “You’ll still need to clean it but-”

“Oooh! It’s been forever since you’ve done that, that was so cool!” Tommy said excitedly, his eyes and nose were still a little red from crying, but he was smiling and looking at Phil with bright eyes like he wasn’t upset just a second ago. “Can you do that again?”

“Wha- no! You’d have to get hurt again for me to do that- and do not go get trampled by the sheep or some shit.” He sighed, lightly laughing. “You little shit- are you alright though? You’re not hurt anywhere else right?”

Tommy shook his head and looked down at his arm, wiping away some of the half-dried blood that only smeared more from the blood on his hand. “I probably have some bruises, but now I just smell like shit.” Phil laughed and went around him, patting his back and pushing him forward to get him to start walking back to the house to which Y/n followed right beside.

Techno seemed to know something was up as he put down the wooden staff he was training with and hurried over to the three of them. “Did something happen?” He immediately noticed the blood on Tommy and grabbed his shoulder to stop him and looked him over.

“He’s fine, mate, don’t worry. I healed him up, he’s okay.” Phil said in a hurry to cure Techno’s worry. 

“Haha yeah bitch, now I’ll have a badass scar like you.” Tommy said with a smug look, but Techno just rolled his eyes and gave him a little shove.

“It’s only badass if you have a cool story behind it.” He corrected and held his head up to look down at his brother. “What’s your super cool story behind it?”

Tommy puffed his chest out and stood tall to try and seem as big as Technoblade. “Yeah, well I had to fight off all the sheep in the pastu-”

“Okay! Nope, inside with you!” Y/n grabbed his arm and pulled him away and toward the steps of the porch. “You two can continue your little… whatever this is inside, you need to get cleaned up.”

He groaned and made a face at them. “Yeah okay, MOM.” He snickered and rushed inside with Phil following after with a smile. They followed the two, watching Techno jog over to grab the staff he left before he started walking back to the house.

Y/n grabbed herbs and soap once they got into the house and helped Tommy clean himself up before they sent him off to bathe. They washed the blood off of their belt the best they could before they went back downstairs to put away their things by themself before hearing a knock on the wall. Turning around, there was Wilbur beside the stairs watching them.

“Hey there.” He started with a bit of a smile and walked over to them to watch where they were putting everything. “Um, once you’re done, want to come see what I’ve learned today?” He watched them expectantly and they couldn’t help a smile. They reached into a barrel and pulled out two apples, throwing one to him without warning though he still caught it.

“Yeah, let’s go. Bet you’re still not as good as me.” They walked past him and nudged him with their shoulder playfully. He chuckled and followed behind with a poke to their arm.

“Mmm yeah we’ll see about that, won’t we”

___________________________________________

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[blackamethyst04]

Guitar Lessons

Eddie Munson X Female reader.

NSFW/Smut

(Storyline: You are a experiment much like el. however, very different. You can read minds and feel forgets emotions. An empath. You met Eddie at RadioShack where you worked and became friends. You joined his club and began to hand out with him a lot. You spent most of your time talking about music, while smoking and drinking. You asked him to teach you how to play guitar. You and Eddie became pretty flirtatious and have gotten really close to romance, but Eddie seems to cut his emotions off and pretend it never happened.)

After me and Eddie grew closer and smoked together more often, I seemed pretty comfortable. The area started to smell way better due to me getting bored and deep cleaning. As the thunder crashed outside which was joined by a rain shower, I continued to attempt to play the guitar. I was comfortable wearing an oversized shirt and some bight shorts. It kinda looked like I wasn't wearing anything under the shirt from the size of the damn thing. Usually we'd play D&D. But today, why not learn how to play guitar.To be honest all I learned was what not to do, since Eddie was not a very good teacher. I groaned in frustration.

"Oh My God! This is so stupid!"

I groaned. Putting his guitar be side me. Eddie quickly grabbed it.

"Hey! It's not stupid!"

He said dusting his guitar off.

"Well then I'm too stupid to figure it out."

I said. He sighed.

"No, you almost got it, you're just not holding it right. Here, stand up. Try again."

He said. I sighed dramatically and stood up. I held the guitar, of course completely wrong again. I gave him a look of annoyance. Not with him, but with myself. He stood up.

"No, here."

He said as he stood behind me peering over my shoulder so he can see it from the right point of view. He placed his hands on mine, slowly directing them to the right areas. I could slightly hear his breathing and heart beat. He glided my hands across the notes.

"See, now you got it."

He said, his tone was patient and quiet. We turned and faced each other. We seemed to stare at each other for way to long his hair slightly tickling my neck. My heartbeat picked up. We began to move closer, before Eddie turned away and stood back in front of me.

"Now you try."

He said leaning on the wall in front if me. I stood there for a second, before I looked down. Eddie had his arms crossed.

"Oh uh....okay."

I said. As I strummed the guitar I smiled.

"I did it!"

I said happily. I noticed Eddie seemed, zoned out. Starting at me, or behind me.

"Eddie? You okay?"

I asked. He looked up shaking himself off.

"Oh, yea. Good job. Now that you can properly hold it. Let's try another thing. Try to do multiple cords at once."

He said as he grabbed a blunt from his pocket Along with his lighter. He then lit the blunt and took a puff. I then tried the cords. It started off okay, but then I decided to mess it up on purpose. I don't know why, but I wanted his attention. I then looked at Eddie for reassurance, and he took another puff of his blunt, blowing the smoke into my face, before he sat it down in an ashtray and walked to me. His sleeves were rolled up, his watch perfectly showing, along with his rings shining in the light. The chain in his pants clanging. I looked down at the guitar.

"Sweetheart,"

He started, he then placed his finger under my chin pulling it up to look at him. His dark brown eyes matching mine. For some reason I felt all tingly.

"If you're gonna fake messing up for my benefit at least don't make it obvious,"

He continued, before sitting down on the couch.

"But, I can still help you. You just have to stay focused."

As I watched him sit I seemed to stare at him. He leaned back in the couch and tapped his lap.

"Come on, sit. It will be easier to help your movements this way."

I looked at him, and then sat down and on his lap. He grabbed my hands and placed them in the guitar once more, setting his own on top.

"Now, follow my movements."

He said. He began to slide his hands on mine, leading my to play the correct sound.

"See. It's not hard."

He said, looking at me. Holy hell. This man had me. I then did it on my own. He gave me a smile.

"Good girl."

He said. I turned to him. We then leaned into each other, kissing. He pulled away slowly and looked at me for a little longer.

"That's enough guitar lessons for the night."

He said, breaking away from me. He got up and grabbed the guitar walking to his room and putting it back. I followed after him.

"What's wrong? Did I do something wrong?"

I asked. As we walked to the kitchen. He turned to me.

"No, not at all. I just think you practiced enough."

"Eddie why do you do this?"

"Do what?"

"It's like, you kiss me or make an advance towards me and I let you, and then you just leave. Do you not want this."

"No Y/N, It's the exact opposite!"

"What do you want from me?"

"Trust me I want a lot."

"Eddie, Please. You've been leading me on and then stepping out."

"As I said I'm not good with feelings Y/N."

"Well… I can help with that! What are you feeling?"

"You already know that answer. You can read minds and emotions!"

"No Eddie, I don't know. I don't know what you want or what you're feelings are because I don't wanna invade your head."

"Y/N please."

"Eddie! Just tell me what you want! Just say it!"

"You! I want you, I want all of you! I love you! And...that's the problem.

Eddie said. He turned and walked away. I crossed my arms.

"I love you too okay! But it doesn't feel like-"

"Y/N I love you! And I don't know how to handle it!"

"Well if you love me so much, fucking act like it!"

Eddie froze and turned to me, he then stormed towards me picking me up and setting me on the counter, gripping my thigh tightly.

"I do act like it."

He said calmly, still gripping my thigh. I bit my lip, he kept dark eye contact. It was almost scary. His grip was so tight that if he didn’t let go, my thigh would be bruised.

"E-Eddie you're hurting me."

I said. He quickly let go of my thigh,

"I'm sorry."

He replied. I looked at him before I kissed him again. He quickly held my cheek pulling me into a deeper kiss, his hand on my side. I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. He picked me up pulling me to the bedroom the storm getting louder. He laid me on the bed and began to undress, as I pulled my bottoms off, pulling from the kiss for just a moment. Eddie gripped my throat pulling me back into a rough and sloppy kiss. Holy shit he had a good grip, his rings digging into my neck, not to hard tho. He than slammed into me aggressively, I let out a whimper of pain and pleasure. I gripped him tightly as I rolled on top of him. Bouncing on him. He gripped my hips, the bed creaking with every movement.

“Oh god-“

Eddie managed to call out. Pulling his head back. I gripped his chin forcing him to look at me. He tightened his grip around my hips, digging his nails into my flesh, causing me to let out an ungodly moan of pleasure.

"Fuck- Don't Slow down Princess."

He whimpered. His moans picking up. It's so hot, so rough. I couldn't help myself, I picked up my pace causing him to turn into a moaning mess, Whining even. No matter how much he tried to hold back he couldn't. Whimpering through the action. I never knew he could be turned so submissive.

"I feel so soft...Y/N-"

He got out. I kinda enjoyed this. Why did I enjoy this. He pulled me down stopping me for a moment so he could catch his breath. I have so much power over him. As he let me go I continued, losing his grip which he quickly tried to get back moaning. I slowed down before stopping. This didn't seem to go over well. I didn't want to force him to keep going. He gripped me tighter. He was enjoying this.

"Fuck, I'm yours...I promise I'll be yours and only yours. Please...please don't stop."

He begged. I smirked, as I went even harder gripping his shoulders. I can't keep this up, I'm gonna lose it. It feels so. So good. I could feel him getting more tense, more sloppy, more sweaty. I looked at him.

"I can't,  no no no, please not yet..."

He pleaded. I slowed down, kissing him. He gripped my ass forcing me to keep my pace. I moaned loudly.

"E-Eddie!"

I moaned. Our breathing got even harsher. Faster, then slower, then faster. I couldn't last this long, I'm surprised he could.

"I can't...hold it"

I groaned.

"Shh, Shh just a little bit longer please...I'm so close please!"

He whimpered. I nodded continuing. I'm starting to overstimulate and shake. I couldn't do it anymore, I ended up, my legs shaking. He moaned loudly as I did.

"N-no I can't...I-Damn it...please!"

He said as he pushed me off of him and coming all over my shirt. He panted like a dog. I shakily pulled off the shirt throwing it to the side.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I just, I lost control for a second"

Eddie whimpered. I laid beside him snuggling against him. I shushed him as we snuggled together.

"We should...make ourselves official..."

Eddie said.

"Aw, Is the Eddie Munson asking me to be his girlfriend?"

I mocked.

"Yea...if that's okay."

He said, I kissed him.

"That sounds fun."

I said. He gave me a light kiss on the forehead. As we snuggled closer pulling the covers over us then we fell straight to sleep. The storm calming.

[randomshyperson]

Wanda Maximoff/Reader - Land of Thieves - #ChapterFour

Read on AO3 (EN) ///// Ler no AO3 (PT)

Summary: When you were a child, you swore that no matter how high the reward in your head, she could always count on you. Life as an outlaw in the west is not easy, but you believe that train robberies are still easier than asking a pretty girl to dance. Land of Thieves, also know as your love story with Wanda Maximoff in the Wild West.

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit violence

Words so far: +19,998k (did not include this chapter)

Marks: @mionemymind​

When you return to the campfire, you laugh at the image of Bucky trying to learn to play guitar with Maria. He sounds like a disaster, squeezing the strings hard, or following the instructions in a way that is completely contrary to what she tells him. Maria however seems to be a very patient teacher, and when you sit around the campfire, you both exchange a knowledgeable look, where you were thanking her for the time with Carol

Nat hands you a beer, and remembering the three glasses of whiskey you had earlier, you grimace at her, saying that any more and you would be tripping. She laughs and says that your drunk version could entertain the party.

You spend several minutes talking and laughing, Pietro joins you shortly afterwards, bringing dominoes. He tries to hint that you should borrow your new set of cards, but you just signal that he was forbidden to mention poker to you indefinitely. Nat wins two games in a row, laughing when you and Pietro let out a grumble of dissatisfaction, and then Pietro hints that she was cheating, which makes her angry enough to try to hit him with the board. You get up to get more beer, laughing lightly as you leave your bickering friends behind.

You should be used to the habit of your gaze always searching for Wanda when she's not in your line of sight, but you always mentally reprimand yourself for doing so. You imagine that you used to disguise it better, seeing the look of malice that Thor casts when he sees you clearly looking for something. You think about disguising it, pretending that you had dropped something, but honestly, what's the point of pretending. He raises his glass in one direction, signaling the corner near Steve's tent, and you finally find it. Wanda and Monica are working together to set up Bucky's old radio, you realize as you watch them carry a small table with the piece of equipment on top.

Taking a long sip of your beer, you allow yourself to admire Wanda for the seconds it takes you to reach her. You remember how beautiful she looked in her dress, but you can't help thinking how irresistible she looks in her usual clothes, work pants and standard shirt, the suspenders hanging loosely against her waist, while the spurs attached to her boot scuff lightly on the grass as she walks. You don't think much about it, but you notice the open buttons of her shirt, her collarbone exposed. You imagine that she might have felt hot after searching for the radio in the warehouse wagon, and you know that if she needs it, you will offer her your coat.

Wanda smiles at you when she sees you coming close, you shyly reciprocate.

- We thought we might dance a bit. - She says as soon as you reach her. Monica approaches with batteries in her hands.

- I'll be happy to look. - You joke, and Wanda looks at you with a mixture of seriousness and amusement.

- No way, the birthday girl dances with everyone. - She warns, raising a finger at you. You laugh, and feeling very confident after all that drinking, you don't think much and start letting the words flow out of your mouth.

- I just wanted to dance with you. - You confess amidst a smile, Wanda looks surprised, but smiles with a slightly flushed face. The sound of the radio catches both of your attention, breaking the moment.

The sound attracts other members of the gang, and before long they are almost all - with the exception of Maria and Thor, who seem engaged in a very heated debate about the best breeds of horse - together in the area of Steve's stall.

- Does anyone have a choice of music? - Monica asks as she fiddles with the buttons on the radio, turning up the volume, the sound is pleasantly loud in the room

- Anything that you can dance to. - Pietro suggested, and when the first sounds of the chosen melody began, he excitedly took Nat by the hand. She laughed, pushing him lightly by the shoulders.

- It's not polite to pull a lady along, boy! - You heard her say. - Ask if I want to dance first.

- Would you like to dance with me, Natasha? - Pietro asked, bowing dramatically, as if he were making a reference. Nat laughed.

- Of course not, go bother the other ladies. - She denied this humorously, and Pietro pretended to be offended. He walked towards Monica and held out his hand, repeating the invitation in a gentler manner. The woman smiled before accepting, and as their dance began, others soon joined in. You watched fondly as Bucky pushed his shoulder against Steve's slightly, an amused expression on his face. Steve put the beer on the counter and extended his hand to his friend, who accepted, and they began to dance. Peggy invited Potts, and they joined the group. Nat walked over to you and Wanda, a mischievous smile on her face. You were about to offer to dance with her, but she was quick to say.

- I'll take this. - She said as she grabbed the beer you were carrying.

- Are you sure you don't want to...

- You know very well that I don't dance. - She interrupts you. - Besides, you're both dying to dance together.

Nat winked at you before walking away, and you felt your face heat up. Turning to Wanda, you found her already looking at you. You smiled and she offered her hand to you, inviting you to dance. You shifted your weight between your feet before accepting.

- I can't dance, Wands. - You whisper as you come closer. Wanda just smiles at you tenderly.

-Follow my lead then. - She answers in the same tone, interlacing your hands. With her other hand, she grabs your free forearm, bringing it up to her own shoulder, showing you where to place it. You begin to look down at your own feet in anticipation, and Wanda places a finger on your chin, slowly lifting your face to make you look into her eyes. - You must look into your partner's eyes.

- But what if I step on your feet? - you ask half breathless at the intensity of her gaze.

- Don't worry, darling. Just breathe. - She assures you, and you feel her hand around your waist. 

And then her body moves, and you focus on following. You count your steps mentally, and try to focus on not stepping on Wanda's feet. It is very hard to concentrate on anything with emerald eyes staring at you with intensity, and the smell of Wanda that seems to overpower all your senses. You are nervous, and your body is tense. You feel guilty as you notice Wanda's frown due to your posture.

- Relax, Y/N. - She whispers tenderly. - It's just me.

You smile, but find it difficult to obey as you look at her. So you lean your face against your hand on Wanda's shoulder. You miss seeing her face, but the position is also very good. She brings your bodies a little closer together, and you get used to the warmth of having her so close with ease. You stay like this, rocking together in an almost hug, your hands intertwined as the hand on your back goes down a little, and you let your gaze wander around.

If you thought you were dancing too close together, those thoughts vanish the moment you see Steve and Bucky, so tightly glued together that there is no space between their bodies. Monica and Pietro seem to be the only ones who are dancing further apart, yet they are very close. As the melody comes to an end, you hear the other members laughing, and Pietro goes towards the radio to change the music while you slowly separate from Wanda. She doesn't let go of your hand, however, and nods for you to follow her. You let yourself be pulled in the opposite direction from the hut area, to a more secluded corner among the trees. As you exit, Nat gives you a mischievous look that makes you blush.

When you were completely hidden from the rest of the camp, Wanda stopped, she looked nervous, shifting her weight between her feet as she let go of your hand. You looked at her curiously.

- I wanted to give you your present. - Wanda said, looking around as if searching for something. She bent down quickly to grab something behind a broken log.

She walked over to you with a mischievous expression. She handed over the package, and maybe it was the alcohol, but you found her fingers lingering on yours as she did so.

A dark wooden box was placed in your hands, and you frowned curiously, wondering what was inside. In fact, the box was so beautiful that you would be very pleased if it were empty.

You opened the clasp, holding your breath in surprise as you noticed the contents. A revolver gleamed against your eyes. You knew very well what kind. It was the Lemat revolver you had wanted to buy on your one and only trip to Saint Denis with Wanda and Pietro. You joked that one day you would have enough money for weapons like that, without having to steal, as your gaze lingered on the item. You never imagined that Wanda would remember this. 

With the tips of your finger, you touched the details that were drawn into the metal of the gun, smiling as you noticed the figure of a wolf carved into the tip. The lone wolf was your nickname as a child, Steve used to call you that whenever you were angry and you needed to travel, you always walked several meters ahead of him, like "a lone wolf".

Feeling your emotions too close to overpowering you, you swallowed the urge to cry as you felt overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment, how much attention Wanda had on you to think about the present. The redhead seemed anxious to know if you had enjoyed it, but you kept your face impassive as you looked at her. 

You stowed the gun back in its case, and held it in one hand while reaching down with the other for your old revolver hanging from your waistband. Removing the gun from its holster, you checked that it was properly locked before throwing it on the grass. Wanda watched you intently, frowning slightly in confusion, but you didn't speak. 

In no hurry, you removed your new gun from the box, taking one last look at it before putting it in its holster. Getting used to the weight as you closed your eyes for a moment.

Then you bent down quietly, and put the box down, finally looking at Wanda. She blinked at you in anticipation, and you bit your lip as you ran your gaze across her face. Your mind racing on so many possibilities of how you could return the gift. The thoughts were innocent at first, but you would blame the alcohol for the direction they took next.

- Did you like it? - She asked without holding back, and you sighed without answering, which seemed to make her insecure.

- I'm thinking about how to repay something like that. - You answered mysteriously, and Wanda let out a nervous laugh, clearly affected by the intensity of your eyes.

- You don't have to. - She says, but you only disagree with a nod, and then she holds her breath as you approach. 

- I want to. - You speak in a low tone, and when your faces are inches apart, you can only stare at her mouth. - Good girls should be rewarded.

You almost stumble with shock when Pietro's voice interrupts the moment. He mumbles apologies as you turn away from Wanda, but then you really begin to understand what he said:

- He's here. Stephen is back! - He cheerfully affirms by waving for you two to go back to the camp. He runs towards the tents, and you turn to Wanda, but she just looks at you intensely, coming up to you and giving you a quick kiss on the corner of your cheek, very close to your mouth, before running after her brother.

You rush to grab the box and the pistol at your feet before running after them.

With Stephen's sudden return to the gang, everyone's mood seemed to improve considerably. And you felt much better knowing that he would treat Bruce, since he had always been the camp doctor.

It has been three days since you almost kissed Wanda in the forest in thanks for the gun you got as a gift. Every time you remember it you feel a wave of shame fill your body, and maybe a little guilt, for having been careless enough to drink to the point of ignoring the minimum of common sense. With this feeling, you had spent the last few days accepting all sorts of camp tasks, to keep yourself busy and unavailable as much as possible to talk about what had occurred. At every moment when your gaze met Wanda's, whether it was between carrying hay to the horse area, or during meals, you made sure to look away while you found a way to escape somewhere else.

As the date approached for the bank heist to take place, you could almost touch in the air the anxiety of those who would participate. Fortunately Thor was back in business and insisted that he would participate in the ambush. Bucky had already secured all the necessary weaponry, and Peggy confirmed that she was working with the final tweaks of the plan. Pietro and Nat went to Valentine the day before and discovered that the workers from the oil plant were all already in town, which seemed to be the last missing piece of the plan. Things seemed to be conspiring in your favor when it came to avoiding Wanda, since she had been as busy as you are, and had not even returned from the buffalo hunt she went on together with Thor and Stephen. 

In the late afternoon, you returned to your tent feeling exhausted from having spent all day organizing the ammunition wagon, as one of your punishments for the Limpany shooting. Bucky was kind enough to sit next to you while he cleaned some weapons, and when he was done, he practiced a bit of guitar playing.

You threw yourself on the bed, groaning against the pillow. Fortunately, your shoulder was practically healed by now, and you didn't need any more bandages. You heard someone huffing in the doorway, so you opened one of your eyes lazily, and caught sight of Nat standing in the doorway with her arms crossed and a suggestive look on her face.

- You know, I'm surprised at how well you're holding up. - She says, and you close your eyes, too tired to puzzle. Seeing your lack of interest, she gives you a wry smile, thinking how stubborn you are when you want to be. - I thought you would only last a day.

- I don't know what you're talking about. - Your voice was muffled against the pillow, but you kept your eyes closed and your face against the fabric. It was so soft.

- In fact, Pietro and I bet that you wouldn't go two days without talking to each other. I'm only bringing this up because I'm losing the bet. - You felt your stomach turn when you finally understood what she said. But not wanting to give her the taste of being right, you just let out an impatient grunt against the pillow, which made Nat laugh instead of pushing her away. - Pietro bet that you would be stubborn enough to hold out until Wanda pushed you off your horse, but I thought you wouldn't go two days without talking to the redhead. You know I don't like to lose.

- Nobody likes to lose. - You retorted. - That's the whole point of betting. 

She stood with her arms crossed as you lifted your face from the bed, and then you adjusted yourself to sit up on the mattress. Seeing your tired expression, Nat assumed a worried look.

- What is happening to you?

You thought you were going to cry. But you only smoothed your hair and gave her a sad smile. She closed your tent and sat down beside you on the bed.

- I almost kissed her on my birthday. - You confess with a lost look in your eyes.

- Isn't that a good thing?

- I was drunk. - You retorted. - I can't believe I was going to grab her in the middle of the forest. That's so scary.

Nat watched you sink your face in your hands, and she began to play with your hair, trying to calm you down.

- You talk as if you were some unknown drunk who chased Wanda into the woods. - She says in an almost amused tone. - I really don't understand how your head comes to such conclusions.

- I just didn't want it to be like that. - You say, moving your fingers nervously. - I don't know what I really wanted. Maybe I wanted it to be special.

- My God, you are so corny. - Nat sneered, but there was no malice in her tone. She braided your hair loosely, and then held out your hand. - I really think that you two are made for each other. And that no matter where it happens or how, Wanda will enjoy your first kiss. 

- And you say that I'm the one who's corny. - You joke, and Nat nudges your shoulder lightly, laughing softly. 

- Oh, but you are indeed. - She replies. - I always thought that you've been secretly dating for years.

You groaned uncomfortably, Nat laughed at your expression.

- I brought something for you. - She says after a moment of silence. Only then you notice that she was carrying something in her pants pocket, and she moves on the bed to pick it up. She hands you a holster. - I hear you have two revolvers now. You can have my extra case.

You smiled, thanking her. Nat whispered a " Don't mention it" before kissing you on the forehead and leaving. Without getting out of bed, you reached for your belt hanging from the chair on your desk and slipped the holster you had earned onto the front of the bed. You were happy to know that you could carry two weapons now. 

Putting your belt back on the chair, you yawned, deciding to get some sleep.

It seemed like a weekend, you thought as you took a sip of coffee, which you almost spit out when you tasted the bitterness. Saloons weren't exactly the best place to get drinks like this, and since you were avoiding alcohol, it was either bitter coffee or water. You began to think that water was the better option.

Steve had sent you to Valentine to get uniforms from the factory, or more accurately, steal uniforms. Peggy had made one last adjustment to the plan, and you found out that you would need to infiltrate the factory if you wanted information about the safe where the money was going to be. Pietro would be the one to infiltrate the place, and since he was the fastest rider, he would have to get out of there as fast as he could to let Peggy know which was the correct safe. You weren't going to start any unnecessary gunfire, so anything that could be done in silence, would be.

You had been waiting for the two clearly inebriated men to finish playing to follow them, and that had been for about two hours. You sighed without patience, and then walked over to the table, trying to sound as friendly as possible when you joined the game. 

If you bankrupted them in the game, they would have no choice but to leave the table, you thought as you received your cards from the dealer. 

You played carefully but objectively, remembering all the tactics that Fury taught you. In less than an hour of play, you had already defeated one of them. But because you were too focused on the game, you didn't notice the threatening posture the loser assumed. 

When you finally defeated the second one, the men were not the slightest bit pleased. You stumbled backwards when one of them pushed you against the counter. 

- I don't like being robbed, girl. - Said the brown-haired man, he had a threatening expression on his face, and you felt quite intimate as he had a knife pressed to your throat.

-A bad loser I see. - You sneer, and he blinks angrily. But then there is a gun pointed at the man's forehead and the grip of the knife on your throat loosens. The bartender doesn't seem willing to witness a murder in his bar. You know his name is Tom, and you thank him softly when he asks the men to leave the bar. But your relief is short-lived, for as you walk out, they are waiting for you outside.

- I want my money back, whore! - One of them shouts and you take a few steps back, your boots clattering in the mud of the road.

- Come on fellas, I won fair and square. - You try to argue, and then you see the man draw his knife at you again. Impatient, you lower your hand to the holster, and the other man imitates the movement. You had no intention of ending up in a duel when you woke up this morning, but here you were.

The man with the knife stepped aside, clearing the shooting area for his friend. You let out a sigh, your hand gripping the revolver. Your gaze focused on the man in front of you, a few steps away. It was a risky duel, and you hoped he was as bad at aiming as he was at poker. 

A moment passed, and then you grabbed your gun and fired. Fortunately, faster than your opponent, who fell to the ground with a thud. The other man was in a state of shock as you stood there, smoke billowing from the tip of your revolver. You barely had time to normalize your breathing when the other man lunged at you with knife in hand. You fired twice, and watched the expression of pure shock as he staggered back, and then fell over dead. You felt a slight burning sensation on your cheek, indicating that he had cut you, but you barely had time to process the two murders when you felt yourself being pulled away. 

Valentine's sheriff seemed more interested in showing service than actually helping anyone, and he didn't believe or care that it might have been self-defense when he threw you into one of the jail cells, which was only a few yards from the saloon.

There was only one other man in the jail, locked up in the cell across from yours. An arrogant-looking lady called the sheriff through the back doors, and he left you two alone. You tried to see where your guns were kept, but could not.

- He keeps them inside that cabinet, on the top shelf. - The man said, and you turned your face toward him. - And the key to the cells is near the door.

- Steve is going to kill me. - You grumble before sitting down on the floor, your legs stretched out on the ground.

You both remain silent for several moments, until the sheriff returns. He has a lipstick stain on his shirt, and you roll your eyes.

- Wilson, great news for you. - says the sheriff walking to the cell opposite yours. The prisoner has a serious look on his face. - I finally got a carriage for Sisika, they will pick you up tomorrow morning.

Wilson ducked his head and clenched his fists, while the sheriff let out a wicked chuckle. 

- If I'm lucky, they'll take you too, cutie. - Said the sheriff looking at you, but you didn't bother to answer.

You tried not to panic at the thought of a federal penitentiary. You hated having to depend on anyone, but you really hoped that your friends would notice your absence and come to your aid.

Looking at your fellow prisoner, you avoided feeling sorry for the downcast expression he acquired, after all you didn't know what he had done to be here. Still, you sympathized with him; it wasn't easy to receive news like that.

Trying to get some idea of what to do, you closed your eyes, burying your head in your knees. But in the end, you just fell asleep.

You dreamed of long red hair, and woke in a jolt, banging your head against the small shelf that held the cell bed. Massaging the spot, you looked forward, surprised to see Wilson signaling you to be quiet.

You ran your gaze around and widened your eyes as you noticed the figure of Monica, silently stealing the key to the cell. The sheriff was too distracted by her cleavage to notice, and you really hated this man with each passing second. Monica pretended to laugh, holding the sheriff's arm, and finally grabbing the key. She asked the officer to go somewhere more private, that she would like to show him something, and when he took her to the backdoors, she handed the cell key to you through the bars.

Quickly freeing yourself, you ran to the weapons locker, looking for your holster. Duly armed, you turned toward Wilson's cell.

- I hope I don't regret this. - You grumble as you release him. He nods in thanks, shaking your hand. And then he runs to the gun cabinet and grabs what you believe to be his.

You hear a noise and both of you turn toward the back door. Through the window you can see Monica struggling with the sheriff, who seems to want to force a kiss. You feel your chest bubbling with anger and rush outside. Before you can do anything, someone shoots the sheriff, who falls to the ground.

You walk over to Monica, who assures you that she is fine, just a little out of shape from being out of a fight for so long. You hug her in thanks before you run away from the scene, she points out where the horses are, and you are surprised to notice that Wilson is still with you.

- My name is Sam. - The man says. - I have nowhere to go.

You and Monica exchange a look, and then she offers her hand to help him get on her own horse. 

- Steve will take care of this. - She says before you ride out of town. 

When you arrive, you let out an exclamation that makes Monica and Sam look at you curiously.

- I didn't get the fucking uniform. - You say, and Monica looks at you with a mischievous smile. She reaches into her own horse's saddlebag and pulls out the folded uniform set. 

- It's easier to steal when they're dead. - She comments, and you look at her with a mixture of pride and surprise. You think that she and Pietro really are made for each other, blessed sticky fingers.

As they enter, you assure the others that you were fine, and you discover that Monica just told them that you had had complications and needed some help. She tells you that she overheard two merchants leaving Valentine commenting on the shooting while she was hunting rabbits, and when she told the rest of the camp, she didn't mention that you might have been shot. 

When the others see Sam, they seem apprehensive about having a stranger in camp, but Steve asks to talk to him privately in his tent. You knew that he would invite Sam to join you as soon as he knew that he helped Monica.

You walk back to your tent, immediately wanting to take a shower. Then your exit is blocked by Wanda looking quite annoyed. You take a step back, shocked by the sudden presence.

- You are avoiding me. - she accuses, looking hurt. Honestly, you don't feel much like having this conversation right now, and considering that you almost died a few hours ago, you just want to take a shower.

- I've just been busy. - You retort, holding her gaze.

- Why are you lying?

You bite your tongue hard to avoid smiling. Wanda is ridiculously beautiful, it's so unfair that you can't get annoyed with her. Completely oblivious to your internal conflict, she has an accusing expression, but the glint in her eyes shows that she is upset, hurt that you are lying to her so blatantly.

- Look, I almost died twice today and was arrested, I would like to take a shower before embarking on another conflict.

Her expression changed to concern.

- What do you mean you almost died? - She questioned and her gaze ran over your face, and when she noticed the dried wound upon your cheek, she raised her hand quickly, her touch electrifying your whole body at the same speed that made you relax more than any hot bath. - What happened?

- I won at poker. - You joked, fighting the urge to close your eyes at her touch. Wanda frowned and lowered her hands. - It was a misunderstanding. Monica saved my ass and now I'm here. 

- You don't seem to be telling me anything anymore. - She said with a serious look on her face, and you swallowed hard, guilt clutching your stomach. And you spent too long thinking about what to say, that you miss your chance. Wanda gave you one last hurt look, before saying, "Have a nice bath," and left your tent. You kept staring for minutes at where you saw her last.

You were very angry when you returned to your room, mumbling disconnected words as you threw yourself on your bed, resisting the urge to scream into your pillow. You had the choice of getting up and apologizing, explaining to Wanda that you just felt insecure, or staying in your bed and whining, so of course you didn't get up.

Refusing to cry, you tried to look for something to do that would get the image of Wanda's hurt look out of your head. You thought about cleaning your weapons, but then you remembered that one of them was the revolver you had received as a gift, so you gave up the idea.

Running your eyes around the room, you tried to find something else, your eyes lingered on your bedside table, a picture of you, Wanda, Pietro, Monica and Nat, when you were younger, and Steve insisted that he would like to have a picture of the camp kids. You must have been about ten years old, and you were dressed in your best clothes, a bandage on your forehead covering up a fight wound.Pietro had one arm on your shoulders and one on Wanda's, he had a toothless smile on his face, his front baby teeth had fallen out shortly before that photo.  Nat and Monica were the tallest, and stood one at each end. Even though it was black and white, you remembered the blue jacket that you yourself had stolen as a present for Nat. 

You looked away from the photo quickly, letting out an impatient sigh. Even trying, you couldn't stop thinking about Wanda, the marks of her presence all over your life. You decided it was best to look for something to do outside your tent.

You noticed Doctor Stephen coming out of Bruce's tent when you left yours. He looked happy, and you felt your chest fill with hope that Bruce was better.

Walking over to Stephen, you greeted him. 

- Ah, look at you, Y/N. - He replied as he put away his medical equipment inside his own tent. - You're growing up fast.

You looked down at the ground blankly.

- I guess so. 

Stephen finished arranging his own things, and when he turned to you, he signaled for you to accompany him to the campfire area.

- You seem to want to ask me something. - He says as he sits down, pouring himself a coffee pen, which was always available at the campfire.

- I just wanted to see how Bruce was doing. 

- Much better. - he says. - Soon he will return to his duties and I will go back to Saint Denis.

You nodded, slightly disappointed that Stephen was leaving, but glad that Bruce was better. They shared the role of camp doctor, but Stephen hardly ever stayed with you, saying he had business of his own to attend to in Saint Denis. You, Wanda and Pietro were the only ones who knew that he had a family waiting for him there.

- But I feel that's not what you want to talk about. - He says after a moment, and you frown. At your expression, he lets out a giggle, and puts his mug down, turning to you with a gentle expression. - You can ask me about Wanda.

You blink, looking away. Stephen was like a mentor to Wanda, and you imagined it would be awkward, to say the least, to talk to him about it. But knowing that he had just returned from a hunt with her and Thor, he had probably noticed something in her behavior, being the observer that he is.

- I think I might have hurt her. - You say, and he nods slightly.

- I thought she looked more angry than hurt. - He says almost in a mocking tone, and you run your hands through your hair.

- Hurt or angry, I fucked up. 

- That is true.

Stephen's tone is playful, and you smile while rolling your eyes. He had always been more relaxed about this kind of subject than you are. 

- Wanda has mentioned that you are avoiding her. - he says after a moment. - She was... distracted during the hunt.

- Yeah, I was running away. - You grumble, looking down at the ground feeling embarrassed. He lets out a sigh, and reaches his hand out to your knee.

- I know how much you care about her, child. - he says. - Ever since you were little, you've been inseparable. So I don't understand your hesitation.

You let out a sad sigh, trying to smile at Stephen.

- I don't think I am what she deserves. - You confess and he frowns. You keep talking, believing that if you don't say things now, you won't say them anymore. - I just... She's so incredible. She' s so strong and so smart, and so so good. She deserves someone who can give her more than a tent on the ground or a campfire. 

Stephen raises his hand to lift your face, making you look at him.

- Do you really believe that? - He asks seriously, but his eyes are tender. He doesn't wait for you to answer. - Listen to me for a moment, will you? I won't speak for Wanda, I never could. What I can assure you is that you are an extraordinary young woman. You are brave and admirably loyal. And most important, is the way you love Wanda with vehemence and devotion. There is no one who deserves her more than you.

You nodded, feeling the tears streaming down your face. Stephen smiled, and wiped them away, moving closer to place a kiss on your forehead. 

- I don't want to hear you say things like that about yourself, okay? - He asks in a serious tone, and waits for you to agree. 

- I promise I won't. - You say, and he nudges you lightly on the nose, making you laugh before turning away, going back to drinking his coffee. He takes a sip, and you are silent for a moment, before he holds up his finger as if he has an idea, and turns to you, with an expression somewhere between humorous and serious.

- Now try to apologize to Wanda. She gets very annoyed when she is mad at you.

You laugh lightly, but then realize that he is telling you to do this now. He continues to stare at you, and you sigh before standing up. Stephen lifts his pen lightly wishing you good luck and you turn toward Wanda's tent.

But your steps are interrupted by Nat, who has a concerned expression on her face. You frown, but she just signals for you to follow her towards Steve's tent.

- We have a problem. - Steve announces as soon as you arrive, he is leaning both hands against the center table, a map stretched out in front of him. 

- What's wrong? - you ask, and then feel nervous as you notice Wanda standing at the other end of the tent next to Pietro. You look away quickly.

- The O'Driscolls are drunk idiots, that's the problem. - Steve replied, looking stressed. He apologized a second later for his harsh manner, and then he straightened his posture. - Peggy just got back from town, she found out that some O'Driscolls were killed at the oil plant, trying to steal masonry titles. One of them was drunk enough to tell them that they were planning to steal the money from the land purchase.

- Oh, shit. - You grumbled. - Any chance this won't get to Stark?

- Unfortunately it already has. - Steve replied with his arms crossed. - The mess happened two days ago. And the local guards sent a carriage to Saint Denis the same day. Peggy spoke to our contact at the bank, and Stark cancelled the deposit.

- Will he no longer buy the land? - you asked.

- Oh, he is. Only the money will be transferred by train. - Steve clarified, and then he took a pen and started to draw a route on the map on the table. - Which means that we are going to change the route completely.

- At least now we are not going to break into a bank. - Nat remarked softly to you, and you smiled at her. 

- We will have two chances to access the money. - Steve explained as he finished scratching out the map. You notice that he also circles two points. - Stark will bring the money in a carriage that will leave his estate somewhere in the Cumberland Forest, but no one knows from where exactly. Besides, he has his own personal guard, and even if we could find out where his house is, it would still be a pain in the ass to get in there. 

- I imagine that this carriage will be extremely well protected too. - Pietro commented, and Steve just nodded in agreement.

- Our first option is a bit risky, but it might work if we were fast enough. - Steve said. - When Stark negotiates the purchase, he will need to show the money to the real estate agents, and the safe will either be inside one of the carriages for the seller to confirm the amount, or the safe will be carried to one of the factory rooms for counting. 

- If we try to steal the safe from inside the factory, we will face twice as many guns. - Said Nat with crossed arms, Steve nodded in agreement.

- Exactly, Natasha. Our only advantage would be for Pietro to infiltrate as an employee and get us inside quietly.

- Not a chance! - You say, and Steve frowns. - You won't send Pietro alone. One mistake and he would have more than a hundred guns pointed at him. It's too dangerous.

Pietro stared at you in slight surprise, looking embarrassed that you had stood up to Steve for him. Wanda had a look in her eyes that you couldn't decipher.

- Yes, you're right. - Steve said after a moment. - We only have one other option left then. We'll steal the money when it's transferred to the train.

- Train? - asks Maria from the other corner of the tent. - But there are no stations in the area.

- Ah, yes. But everything works for those who have money. - Bucky said with irony. Steve smiled before explaining: 

- Stark has asked that the checkpoint in the Heartlands area be reactivated. It's near the factories, and they're going to take the safe by carriage there. - He marked on the map the location. - The train will only stop here and then go straight to Saint Denis.

- We always end up stealing a train. - You whispered to Nat, who smiled with amusement.

- We don't know how many guards will board the train, however, the number will be smaller than if we take on all the guards at the factory plus Stark's guards.

- Let's go over the final arrangement of the plan then. - Peggy announced. - We're going to need more people to stay on board, especially now that we're going to jump on a moving train. - Peggy explained with a light irony that drew laughter from everyone. She took a small notebook from her jacket, where you guessed she had organized the names and functions, before speaking again. - Steve and I ride together to the meeting point in the negotiation area, where we will be able to see Stark's carriage on its way. Thor and Bucky stand further away, each in a different direction, to signal if there is another guard formation. Meanwhile, Nat and Monica stand guard at the location where we will board the train. Y/N, Pietro and Wanda wait a little ahead, to signal when the train is coming and you find the ideal spot to jump off without being seen by the guards. We will ride to you as soon as the train leaves.

- Does anyone have any questions? - said Steve looking at everyone. You were going over the plan mentally so you didn't say anything.

- When we get on the train, who will take care of our horses? - asked Nat, leaning slightly against you.

- Actually, I suggest you split up the mounts. It will be faster to call the horses back if you have fewer. We can have them follow the train as well.  - Peggy said, and then she pointed her fingers around the gang members, as if she were counting. - Let's see, me, Bucky, Steve and Thor will be on our own horses. Nat and Monica can ride together, and so can the twins. 

- I guess that's all. - Steve announced. - Rest, and avoid alcohol tonight. We'll ride tomorrow.

You began to feel slightly anxious as soon as you left the tent. Changing plans on the eve of a strike was a very dangerous thing. Nat put an arm around your shoulders, while you walked outside.

- Ready to rob a train, old friend? - she said in a playful and ironic tone, you laughed.

- Always. - You replied in the same tone. Nat waved you goodnight before leaving towards her tent, and you were walking towards yours, but then you bit your lip and turned on your heel, heading towards Pietro and Wanda's tent.

Pietro had just come in when you arrived, and Wanda was already sitting on her bed. He smiled at you.

- Honey, have you come to wish me good luck? - He teased, throwing his arms around you. You pushed him away, making him laugh.

- I wanted to...

- Oh, I know just what you wanted. - He interrupted, pretending to be hurt as he raised a hand to his chest, dramatizing. - I am so dedicated to this friendship and you don't even come to see me or say good night!

You frown with mock amusement, watching Pietro pretend to have a crying face. He pushes you slightly to get out of the tent.

- I want a divorce, Y/N. - He announces dramatically. - You may have Wanda, but the house is mine!

You hold back a laugh as you nudge him in the chest. He just laughs and turns around, walking toward the fire.

A smile plays on Wanda's lips as you turn around, you take a deep breath before entering the tent, and then you sit down on Pietro's bed, facing the redhead. She looks down at the floor, and you let your gaze wander over her face.

It takes a moment, but Wanda finally looks into your eyes, and you hold her gaze. As you look at each other, you feel your heart race, but you don't mind.

- Hi. - You sigh breathlessly after a moment. Wanda's gaze wavers.

- Hi. - She says without smiling, her gaze falls back to the ground.

You bite the inside of your cheek, but before you can think of what to say next, Wanda speaks again, her expression serious.

- Thank you for standing up for Pietro. - You blink in confusion, but Wanda continues. - About the situation at the factory.

- No problem. - Your voice comes out a little hoarse, and you cough before you speak again. - I don't think they'd make him go by himself anyway.

- Still, thank you. - she says, and you nod. Wanda moves her hands nervously. - Do you want anything, I'm going to sleep already…

- I want to apologize. - You interrupt her, and she looks at you quickly. You look away for a second, feeling embarrassed. But knowing that apologies should be made with an eye to the eye, you take a deep breath and face her. - Wanda, I'm sorry I avoided you these days.

- You really admitted it. - She grumbled, looking surprised and hurt. You swallowed hard.

- I was afraid. - You confessed, and she looked at you with confusion. - I thought I had crossed a line with you. But I'm not afraid anymore. Well, I'm still scared, because this is new, but okay, it's a good feeling…

You started to ramble and Wanda let out a giggle, and then she lunged at you, hugging you, and shutting you up. In your shock, you fell off the bed on your knees, but you kept hugging each other.

- Please don't keep things from me. - She asked in a low tone, mumbling against your hair. You nodded in agreement, squeezing her in your arms before you pulled away. - Will you tell me why you were avoiding me? - She asked looking at you curiously, and even a little defiantly, as if checking to see if you would keep hiding things from her. You bit your lower lip, blushing, and bowed your head in agreement.

- I thought I was crossing a line with you that day in the forest. - You mumbled without looking at her. Wanda frowned, blushing slightly.

- You were going to kiss me, right? - she asked in a whisper. Your heart raced, but you nodded in agreement. Wanda looked down at the floor, a shy smile on her lips. - I would have liked that.

You felt your face heat up at the confession, but smiled, looking at Wanda. It took a moment for her to meet your gaze, her face flushed, but when she did, you felt your stomach turn with nervousness.

- Look, I hate to interrupt the couple's reconciliation, but I have a train to rob tomorrow. - Pietro's voice broke the moment completely, and you almost fell back in astonishment when you noticed Pietro standing at the entrance of the tent, with a mischievous smile. 

- Perfect timing as always. - You grumbled as you got up from the floor, reaching out to help Wanda. Pietro came into the room next, pushing you lightly as he threw himself on his own bed. You let out a grumble of dissatisfaction.

- I told you I'd keep the house. - He teased last, and you tugged on his pillow, causing him to let out an indignant exclamation, but you were quick to throw the object against his face with mock amusement.

- Good night, sweetheart. - You retorted, quickly pulling away to keep him from hitting you with the pillow. You laughed as you left the room. Wanda hurried after you and you were surprised to see her following you out. 

Outside, at the entrance to her cabin, Wanda waited until you turned toward her, and then she stepped closer to you, putting her hands on your neck, and pulling your face toward her. She met your lips in a firm but soft kiss. 

You staggered back in surprise, closing your eyes. Your whole body throbbed, but before you could respond, she pulled away. 

- Goodnight. - she whispered in a husky tone, before turning back to her own cabin.

You stood there for a few seconds, unable to process exactly what had happened, the sensation of Wanda's lips against yours tingling in your mouth. A good few minutes passed before you returned to your own tent, a foolish smile on your lips.

[calpalirwin]

Better Now

Summary: Putting yourself back out there after a heartbreak is never easy, but you and Ashton are learning that it’s worth it.

A/N: Big thanks to @jessalyn-jpeg​ for listening to me cry over Taylor Acorn songs while I figured out how to combine her latest releases into 1 fic.

Word Count: 2.6k

And away, and away we go!

__

Aside from the composition book that lay open on the coffee table, the recording room was empty. Face contorting in curious confusion, Ashton picked it up, thinking one of his bandmates had left it behind. But as he caught a glance at the words sprawled across the lined pages in black inked handwriting he didn’t recognize he knew he should have closed it. Songwriting was a very personal thing, and he would hate for anyone to find his own songbook lying around and read the contents. But the words jumped out at him, and he found himself taking a seat, still holding the notebook open in his hands.

“And no one comes to save you, you learn to save yourself. The world, it just keeps going on while you’re going through hell. No, it’s not all that it’s cut out to be. ‘Cuz you can’t hide behind the silver screen. Love ain’t like the movies.”

“Jesus…” he whispered to himself.

“Excuse me?” a female voice asked from the doorway, and Ashton jumped, snapping the notebook shut.

“Uh…” he stuttered, staring at the woman with her hair messily thrown up, dressed casually in jeans and a tank top, a tired but wild look in her bright eyes. “Hi. Can I help you?”

She adjusted the guitar case strap on her shoulder. “Uh, I hope so? A notebook? Standard composition notebook. Black and white colored. Probably impossible to distinguish from any other black and white standard composition notebook. I know, super helpful description. You haven’t happened to see one lying around here, have you?”

“Like this?” Ashton asked, flashing the notebook in his hand.

“It would look exactly like that!” she brightened. Then, her smile faltered. “But that one’s probably yours, isn’t it?”

“Uh, actually no. It was on the coffee table when I came in. I, uh, thought it might be one of my bandmates, but it’s not their handwriting.”

“Oh, so you read it?” she asked. No anger or embarrassment. Just clarifying a fact.

Ashton rubbed at the back of his neck. “Sorry… I didn’t read a lot. Just enough to realize the handwriting was different.” He held out the notebook to her for her to take. “It’s uh, good by the way. Whatever you’re working on. Relatable.”

“Thanks,” she said, taking the notebook from him and flipping through the pages to confirm that it was in fact hers. “I really need to keep better track of my shit… Thanks for finding it.”

“Yeah, ‘course. And sorry again for reading bits of it.”

She waved a hand at his apology. “Oh, it’s fine. My fault for leaving it lying around. Sorry you can relate to it.”

Ashton shrugged. “Heartbreak: part of the standard human experience. Some of your lyrics actually remind me of a song my band put out once years ago. At the time I considered myself lucky to not be able to relate to it. But seeing yours… which is far more poetic than anything four teenage boys could come up with… I’m glad for songs like that. Makes you feel a little less alone in the drowning.”

“Yeah, I’m hoping this helps me at least start to tread water again. How long ago was the heartbreak for you?” she asked, then shook her head. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that. I should probably be going anyway. Let you get back to your shit, and go off to deal with mine.”

Ashton chuckled. “Nah, it’s fine. It’s been about four months for me. So still recent enough to sting like a bitch.”

She smiled and laughed a bit at his words, but there was a sadness to both. “Two and a half months for me. So just enough to actually drag myself out of my bedroom.”

“And down to a studio where some jackass reads your most personal feelings. Awesome…”

There was a bit more realness to her laugh this time around. “Honestly, not a problem. It’s meant for people to hear, you know?”

“I suppose that’s true. I’m Ashton, by the way.”

“Y/N.”

“Good luck with the song, Y/N. Feel better soon, yeah?”

“Thanks. You too.” She turned to head out of the room, before pausing and turning back around. “What was that song? The one your band made that you couldn’t relate to at the time?”

Ashton’s cheeks turned pink. “Oh. You don’t wanna hear that one, trust me. Cringey teenage attempt at being emo punk.”

“Damn… Emo punk is my favorite.”

Against his better judgement, Ashton pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Alright,” he gave in, pulling up the song. “But you’re not allowed to make fun of me. Like I said, this was years ago.”

Y/N held out her pinky finger. “No judgement, swear.”

Ashton linked his own pinky with hers, and hit play. For the next three and a half minutes he watched her carefully as she stood there with her eyes closed, nodding her head along with the beat. On one hand, he was glad her eyes were closed because it meant that she couldn’t see him watching her, or see his embarrassment. But on the other hand it meant that he had no clue what she was thinking. He hit pause before it could replay again. “Like I said, some of your lyrics have a similar feeling,” he said with a shrug.

She opened her eyes as she nodded. “Yeah, I see what you mean. About thinking you’re getting the fairytale movie ending one second, and the next the ending is anything but happily ever after. Was one of those solos you?”

He shook his head. “Nah. I’m the drummer. So-”

“Lots of back up,” she interrupted with a knowing nod. “Is it because you don’t sing at all? Or just out of convenience?”

“Mostly convenience. In our earlier days we used to split up singing pretty evenly. And then we all got more comfortable in our roles. But I still sing from time to time in more than a back up way.”

“That’s cool. And I bet it makes recording stuff and everything so much easier. I have to do a lot of borrowing or outsourcing to get all the sounds I want.”

“Not in a band, huh?”

“Nope. Just your regular solo artist.”

“That’s gotta get lonely.”

“It can be. But it also means making things in my vision, and not having to compromise on that.”

“Well, if you ever need someone to lay down some drum tracks, or just some company so you’re not drowning alone, I’m here most of the time.”

She nodded, understanding what he wasn’t saying about an intrinsic need to stay out of the house as much as humanly possible. Away from the memories that haunted every aspect of being awake. “Thanks, Ashton,” she said, once again turning to leave, but found herself turning back towards him, another question on her lips. “Do you mind if I ask you something personal?”

“Go for it.”

“What’s the hardest part of breaking up? Of trying to move on, and feel like yourself again?”

“Honestly? Waking up, and seeing that empty side of the bed. Hits you like a freight train all over again. That kind of overwhelming sense of dread that you’re never gonna feel normal again.”

“But then you get up, and try anyway, hoping that today it hurts just a little bit less than it did yesterday.”

“But it doesn’t, and you start to lose hope that the pain will ever stop.”

“That’s the hardest part.”

“The fuckin’ worst. But hey. It can’t suck forever. Or, that’s what I keep telling myself anyway. That’s what finally gets me out of bed.”

“And hey! Maybe I'll get a hit song out of it in the process, too.” She feigned a smile, flashing her notebook.

“Oh, that’ll be a hit, no question about it.”

“Thanks. For uh… well everything, I guess. See you around, Ashton.”

“Good luck, Y/N.”

~~~

Y/N eventually did get the courage to ask Ashton for both his company and musical help, on a day when she found it harder than normal to get up out of bed.

She trudged her way into the studio, spotting him watching a coffee pot in the common living area. “Oh, hey,” he smiled warmly as she pulled open the fridge. “Making a fresh pot if you want any.”

She shook her head, grabbing a water bottle and taking a few sips from it. “Can I get your help today?” she asked in a low whisper, hoping to hide the wobble in her tone.

“Yeah, of course. Everything alright?”

She shook her head again, then wordlessly left for her recording room.

“So, what’s up?” Ashton asked when he found her a few moments later, cup of coffee in hand.

“You’re not allowed to judge me for any vulnerability today.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good. Because this verse is gonna be really hard for me to record.”

He nodded, taking a seat while she set up behind a microphone. A soft guitar track started playing, and when she took a breath, Ashton prepared himself for lyrics of her most recent break up. So when her soft voice started singing, “ ‘Cuz after my dad died, even though she never let us see her cry, my mom was broken inside, ‘cause she just lost her best friend. Why don’t they prepare you for that? When the picture perfect life you had goes black,” to say he was shocked was a bit of an understatement.

There was a click of the track, and the guitar stopped, the headphones settling around her neck. “I’m sorry about your dad,” he spoke up softly. “I- that’s gotta be rough.”

“Most of the time it’s a dull ache. A small hum I can ignore if I don’t focus on it. But there’s a few days where the pain is all fresh, like I’m learning the news again for the first time. A shock to the system.”

“I like the juxtaposition of it all. Most of the time when people think of love gone wrong, or ending before we’re ready, it’s the break up. Because the alternative… it’s…”

“Unfathomable.”

“Yeah. It’s a pain that I can’t imagine, that’s for sure.”

“Lucky you.”

He chuckled slightly. “Nah. Not in the way you think. My own experience is fucked, but in the other direction. He left and never gave a shit.”

“That’s rough.”

“It was, yeah. I guess the small benefit is that I was too young to remember him leaving. So for me, he’s always been gone. Haven’t ever known anything different.”

“See, I’m grateful that I at least have my memories of my dad. Even if he’s been gone longer than I had him. But it’s like a double-edged sword. The memories bring some peace. But it also fuckin’ sucks that they’ll never be anything more than that. That I don’t get new ones.”

“Well, I dunno if talking about him helps you at all. But if you want to, you can.”

“You don’t mind? I don’t wanna bore you, or make you jealous.”

He patted the empty spot on the couch next to him. “C’mon, you asked for my help. Let me help.”

She gave a small laugh before moving to sit next to him. “Remember, you’re not allowed to judge me for being vulnerable.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He listened as stories of her childhood fell from her lips. He offered her up the box of tissues on the coffee table when her words got choked, and would gently prompt her into continuing when she stopped to apologize. He provided her with stories of his own childhood when her own stories grew too painful to share, confiding in her the way she was confiding in him. And when the sun started to cast long shadows across the room, maybe not a lot of work had been done when it came to her song, but Ashton had helped her nonetheless, and both of them felt a little lighter than they had been in a while.

~~~

Help in the form of company was given with much less hesitance after that, with Y/N and Ashton seeking each other out with regularity. Some days would be spent with the two barely exchanging a word as they played out various melodies, or wrote new lyrics. Other days were filled with endless chatter as they shared ideas they had, and provided ideas on how to overcome any blocks in creativity, or just swapped more stories. And other days still, he would help her work on her song.

When Y/N finally finished her song, Ashton was the first person she thought of to share it with, dragging him excitedly into the room with her. “Jesus, this is the happiest I think I’ve ever seen you,” he teased with a giggle.

“Do you wanna hear the song or not?” she asked.

“It’s done?”

“It’s done!”

“Well, hit play! C’mon!”

For three and a half minutes they stood in the middle of the recording room while her song blasted from the speakers. 

“Well?” she asked expectantly when silence overtook them once more. Then, more quizzically, “Why are you staring at me like that?”

He had an amazed smile on his face, dimples cratering his cheeks, and a soft shine in his eyes. “Staring at you like what?” he asked in response.

“Like you wanna… I dunno… kiss me or something…”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips. Then the soft look was melting away into confusion. “Cuz sometimes I think I want to.”

“And other times?”

“I talk myself down because I’m not sure what I want, or what I feel. We’re both still getting over people who caused us a lot of damage. And I don’t always feel like I’m ready to think about starting a relationship with someone new. But I also know that I’m never going to be ready until I actually start doing it. And I really like the friendship we’ve built the past couple of months. I feel more like me when I’m around you. Like, not only am I no longer drowning, I can actually feel the bottom. But I don’t know if those feelings come from being around someone who can relate to what I’m going through right now, like some weird trauma bond. Or if it’s real “I like you’ feelings. And it’s not fair to you for me to not know.”

She nodded, both understanding what he was saying, and what he wasn’t saying. “What if I kiss you instead?”

“Please, don’t.”

“Because you’re scared we’ll hurt each other? Ash, if we don’t at least try, then we’re never gonna know what’s real and what’s not.”

“It’s partially that. But also… If we end up kissing… I’m not going to want to stop.”

“Then you better not be a lousy kisser.”

~~~

7 Months Later

Ashton got a small flash of deja vu as he saw the black and white composition book lying open, the beginnings of a song scribbled across one of the pages. “Just another hopeless broken heart cliche. And all my fairytale ambitions, I just watched them wash away.”

“Y/N?” he called out, curious to learn where this song was going, and also where his girlfriend could be hiding. “Babe?”

“But it’s too late for sorry baby, even if you’ve changed. I’m not letting myself break down, count me out. Oh, I’m better now,” her voice sang softly as it came down the hallway with her, a black pen twirling between her fingers. She paused as she spotted him standing there with her notebook, a smile lighting up her face. “Hey, you.”

“Hey,” he matched her smile, handing her the notebook and pressing a kiss to her head. “That’s nice. Whatever you were just singing. What inspired this one?”

“Just reflecting a bit on this past year,” she told him, as she quickly wrote what she’d been singing in the notebook before the lyrics left her head.

“Feeling a lot better these days, huh?”

“Better than I’ve ever been.”

__

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