#wow. okay. kind of wanted to just make a small piece to try and process what happened

[cent-scratchnsniff]

yeah. finally did day 50. my god .

[tanjamikaelson]

BEST FRIEND'S BROTHER - CHAPTER 3

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 3: | RUMOUR |

You sat cross-legged on your bed, earbuds in, music playing softly as you replayed the events of last night in your mind. Every time you thought about Rafe, a heat crept up your cheeks. The memory of his touch lingered, the way his fingers had moved against you, sending shivers through your body. It was intoxicating, the way he made you feel—wanted, desired. You had never felt anything like it before. The thought of it stirred something inside you, something you hadn’t been able to shake all day.

You were so lost in the memory that you didn’t hear the door burst open until Sarah’s voice cut through the air like a knife. “Y/N, is it true?”

Startled, you pulled out your earbuds, eyes snapping up to meet hers. “What?” you asked, still caught between your thoughts and the sudden reality of her presence. The look on her face—disappointment, anger—hit you like a punch to the gut.

“You slept with Rafe?!” The words exploded out of her, each syllable laced with betrayal.

Your heart dropped. “No, I didn’t,” you said quickly, shaking your head, but the hurt in her eyes didn’t waver.

“Then why is everybody talking about it?” Sarah’s arms were crossed tightly over her chest, her posture defensive and hurt. She wasn’t just your best friend—she was like a sister. And now, standing there, she looked at you like she didn’t know you at all.

You took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. “My ex showed up at the party,” you began, your voice steady but laced with frustration. “I told everyone what he did to me... how he cheated. And Rafe—he stepped in to protect me. My ex was jealous and started spreading rumors.”

Sarah’s expression softened, the anger fading just a bit as she processed your words. “And Rafe broke his nose,” she said, piecing together the bits of information she must have heard throughout the day.

“Yeah, he did,” you confirmed. “He didn’t let him disrespect me like that, in front of everyone.”

You could see the tension leaving her shoulders, the rigidness of her posture easing. “I guess it’s nice of Rafe to do that,” she muttered, almost begrudgingly.

A laugh bubbled up from your chest, unexpected and light. “Oh wow, I never thought I’d hear you say something nice about your brother.”

Sarah rolled her eyes but smiled, the last of the anger melting away. She sank onto the bed beside you, a sigh escaping her lips. “Hey, I didn’t say he was nice, just that what he did was.” Her tone was playful, but you could hear the undercurrent of relief.

You nodded, smiling at her. “Yeah, okay.”

But even as you joked, a small knot of guilt tightened in your chest. You hadn’t lied to Sarah, not completely. You and Rafe hadn’t slept together, but what had happened between you was still real, still intimate. And you couldn’t tell her, not yet. Maybe one day you’d find the words to explain, to make her understand, but not now. Now, the truth would only hurt her more.

“So, you want to go dress shopping tomorrow for midsummers?” Sarah asked, her voice casual, as if she was trying to push past the tension that had filled the room moments ago.

“Yeah, of course,” you replied, grateful for the change in subject, and for the opportunity to move forward.

Sarah smiled, the kind of smile that lit up her whole face, and for a moment, everything felt normal again. “Can’t wait.”

•°•°•°•°•°•

The next day, you arrived at Sarah’s house, excited for a day of dress shopping and distractions. You had spent most of the morning thinking about what you wanted to wear for the midsummer event, picturing yourself in all sorts of dresses, each one more beautiful than the last. But when you reached Sarah’s room, she wasn’t there. You called out her name, but the house was unusually quiet.

Confused, you made your way back downstairs, pausing when you saw Rafe lounging on the couch, his expression unreadable. “Hey, where’s Sarah?” you asked, trying to keep your voice light, though the disappointment of not finding your friend was creeping in.

Rafe shrugged, looking genuinely clueless. “I have no idea.”

“She told me yesterday to come so we could go shopping...” You trailed off, glancing around, wondering where she could be.

“Well, I haven’t seen her either,” Rafe said, then paused, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your stomach flip. “Can we talk? Privately?”

Your heart rate picked up, but you nodded. “Yeah, what’s up?”

Without another word, Rafe stood and grabbed your hand, pulling you gently but firmly up the stairs and into his room. The door clicked shut behind you, the sound somehow final, sealing you both in. He turned to face you, his eyes searching yours, his expression serious.

“About the other night...” Rafe began, his voice careful, as if he was testing the waters. “If I made you feel uncomfortable...”

You shook your head quickly, the words tumbling out before he could finish. “No, Rafe. You didn’t.” You took a breath, trying to find the right words. “I just don’t want Sarah to know. She almost found out the truth after my ex spread that rumor.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened, his expression hardening. “I know. He got what he deserved.”

You smiled, the memory of your ex writhing on the floor, blood streaming from his nose, bringing a dark satisfaction. “He did. I loved seeing him like that.”

Rafe’s lips curved into a smirk, his eyes lighting up. He was glad you felt the same way, glad that he hadn’t overstepped. Your gaze drifted around his room, and you noticed a baby blue suit hanging on the closet door, pristine and elegant.

“Nice suit,” you remarked, nodding towards it. “Are you wearing that to midsummers?”

Rafe glanced at the suit, then back at you, nodding. “Yeah. What are you wearing?”

You shrugged, the truth still hanging in the air between you. “I don’t know yet. I was supposed to go dress shopping with Sarah...” But as you said the words, an idea sparked in your mind, a way to match, to be connected without anyone knowing.

Before you could finish the thought, Rafe closed the space between you, his presence overwhelming. You felt the door press against your back, his body inches from yours. His gaze was intense, his voice low and steady as he spoke. “So... I would like that to happen again...” His words hung in the air, charged with the memory of what had transpired between you both at Kelce’s party.

Your heart skipped a beat. You knew exactly what he was referring to, and the thought of it made heat pool in your belly. You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “But not right now.”

Rafe cocked his head to the side, his eyes darkening with something that made your pulse quicken. “When?”

You shook your head, feeling the frustration build. “I don’t know. When Sarah’s not around.”

Rafe’s hand brushed against your arm, his touch featherlight, sending shivers down your spine. “She’s not here right now,” he reminded you, his smirk almost teasing.

“But she could come back any minute,” you countered, your voice a whisper, but filled with urgency.

Rafe sighed, the sound heavy with disappointment. “So you want us completely alone? We’re never completely alone.”

You sighed too, mirroring his frustration, feeling it thrum between you like a live wire. “I know, but we can figure something out.”

Rafe stepped back, his eyes narrowing slightly, his voice laced with annoyance. “Well, let me know when you do.” He turned away, his shoulders tense, his disappointment palpable.

You stood there, your back still pressed against the door, your heart racing. The tension between you was almost unbearable, and as he turned his back on you, a mix of emotions swirled inside you—desire, frustration, and the nagging guilt that came from keeping this secret from Sarah. You had to find a way to make this right, to figure out what you really wanted before everything spiraled out of control.

You fled from his room, your heart pounding, the walls feeling like they were closing in on you. You needed air, space—anything to clear your head. The intensity of Rafe’s gaze, the weight of his words, and the way your body responded to him had all been overwhelming. You could barely think straight as you made your way down the hallway, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts.

Rafe stood there, stunned, watching as you hurried out. He hadn’t expected you to leave like that, so abruptly, without a second glance. He felt a sharp pang in his chest, a strange mixture of frustration and confusion that he couldn’t quite place. His hands clenched into fists at his sides as he tried to process what had just happened. He hadn’t meant to push you away. Hell, he hadn’t even realized how much he wanted you to stay until he watched you walk out the door, leaving him alone with nothing but the echo of your presence. A bitter taste settled in his mouth as he replayed the last few moments over and over in his mind.

Why did you leave?

Rafe felt a surge of anger—at himself, mostly. He had been so close, so close to having you again, to feeling your warmth, to experiencing the high of being near you. The memory of the other night, the way your body had responded to his touch, was still fresh in his mind, burning like a brand against his skin. And now, standing alone in his room, he felt that heat turning into a gnawing ache. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply, trying to shake off the tension that coiled tightly in his chest. His thoughts were a chaotic mess—part of him wanted to chase after you, to drag you back into the room and make you stay until you understood how much he needed you. But another part, the one that knew he had already pushed too hard, told him to let you go, to give you the space you were clearly asking for.

Rafe’s jaw clenched as he replayed the conversation in his mind. He knew he could be intense—too intense, sometimes—but he couldn’t help it. Not when it came to you. There was something about you that drove him crazy, made him feel things he didn’t understand, things he didn’t want to admit even to himself.

He turned and punched the wall beside him, the sharp pain in his knuckles a welcome distraction from the turmoil inside his head. He didn’t know what to do with all the emotions swirling inside him—frustration, desire, a strange sense of vulnerability that he wasn’t used to feeling. You had gotten under his skin, and he didn’t know how to handle it.

Rafe let out a low, bitter laugh. He was angry—angry at himself for scaring you off, angry at the situation, angry at everything that kept him from having what he wanted. And what he wanted was you. Completely, without hesitation, without hiding.

He knew you were scared—scared of what being with him would mean, scared of how Sarah would react, scared of how this would change things between all of you. But he was scared, too, even if he’d never say it out loud. Scared of wanting you this much, scared of what it meant if you didn’t want him the same way.

Rafe stared at the door for a long moment, his chest heaving as he tried to rein in the storm of emotions crashing through him. He wanted to run after you, to pull you into his arms and tell you that he’d wait, that he’d do whatever it took to make this work. But he knew that right now, that wasn’t what you needed.

With a deep, shuddering breath, he turned away from the door, the frustration simmering under his skin like a live wire. He needed to cool off, to clear his head, to figure out how to fix this. Because he wasn’t ready to give up—not on you, not on what you could be together.

But for now, he’d have to let you go.

For now.

•°•°•°•°•°•

The warmth of sunset had started to settle over the open field, casting long shadows and soft light over everyone who had come out for the outdoor movie night. You found a spot on the grass with some friends, surrounded by laughter and the quiet hum of conversation as the film began. But as the movie dragged on, you found yourself losing interest, your thoughts drifting.

A glance around the crowd was all it took to pull you from your thoughts—you spotted Rafe a few feet away, sitting with Topper and Kelce. He didn’t look like he was enjoying the movie either, his elbow propped up on his knee, his cheek resting in his hand as he pouted at the screen. His presence seemed to fill the air around you, sending a small thrill through your chest.

You couldn’t help but notice when he eventually got up, his broad shoulders and confident stance drawing your attention like a magnet. Without really thinking, you rose to your feet and decided to follow him, weaving through the crowd.

Rafe led you around the back of the movie screen, and it didn’t take long to see what was happening. Rafe, Topper, and Kelce had cornered JJ and Pope, the tension crackling in the air. Before you could even process what was happening, punches were being thrown, and a brutal fight erupted between the kooks and pogues.

“Don’t do this, guys!” you yelled, but your voice was lost in the chaos, falling on deaf ears.

Suddenly, a flash of movement caught your eye. Kie appeared from nowhere, gripping JJ’s backpack with both hands as she swung it at Topper, landing a blow square against his back. “Let go of him, Topper! Fascist asshole!” she shouted, her voice carrying a mixture of fear and fury. Topper, unfazed, turned on her, yanking the bag out of her hands and tossing it aside as he tightened his grip on Pope.

Your gaze shifted to Rafe, who was busy landing a punch on JJ, while Kelce held him firmly, keeping him from fighting back. Kie, seeing this, leaped onto Topper’s back, clawing at him, trying desperately to pull him away from Pope.

The sight must have caught Rafe’s attention because he turned and immediately moved towards them. He grabbed Kie around the waist, pulling her off Topper effortlessly, her legs kicking out as she fought against him.

“Let go of me, Rafe!” she screamed, writhing in his grip.

“Stay out of this, Kiara. Okay?” Rafe’s voice was low, and cold, as he tossed her aside, sending her stumbling to the ground.

Your heart pounded as you watched Kie rummage through the backpack, her fingers closing around something. Your eyes widened as you realized it was a gun.

“Kie!” you called out, rushing over to grab her hand, panic filling your voice.

She looked up at you, her expression wild and unyielding, yanking her hand away. “Don’t!” she snapped, her tone sharp with desperation and anger. Then, without missing a beat, she stuffed the gun back into the bag, her hand now pulling out a lighter.

“Kie, stop!” you pleaded, but she pushed you back, her eyes blazing with a resolve you hadn’t seen in her before.

“Stop being on their side!” she shouted, her voice echoing over the scene. Without another word, she flicked the lighter and held it to the screen, setting it ablaze.

The next thing you knew, flames erupted, consuming the movie screen and casting an orange glow over the chaotic scene. It was a bold, desperate attempt to end the fight, and it worked.

The sudden blaze shocked everyone. For a moment, all movement stopped, the fire commanding everyone’s attention as it leaped and crackled against the night sky. The Kooks froze, stunned by the unexpected turn, their faces illuminated by the flames.

Rafe let out a dark laugh, the flicker of fire reflecting in his eyes. “Let’s go, Kelce,” he muttered, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. His gaze landed on you, still crouched on the ground, and his expression hardened slightly. Without hesitation, he strode over, reaching down to grab your arm, and pulling you up to your feet.

“You shouldn’t have tried to stop us,” he said, his voice laced with annoyance, though a flicker of something softer lay behind it.

“I don’t like it when there’s a fight,” you replied, brushing the dirt and grass off your clothes, but he wasn’t listening.

“They sank Topper’s boat and held a gun to his head,” Rafe explained his tone a mix of frustration and something darker. "We’re supposed to just let it slide?”

You stayed silent, knowing that arguing with him now would only make things worse. He nudged you forward, a light push urging you to start walking with him. As you moved forward, you felt his hand smack against your backside, making you stumble slightly in surprise.

When you glanced over your shoulder, he smirked, feigning innocence. "Your butt had dirt on it," he chuckled, but there was a gleam in his eye that suggested otherwise.

You rolled your eyes, but before you could respond, Rafe’s hand shot out, grabbing your arm and pulling you aside, away from prying eyes. You barely had a second to process before your back was pressed against a wall, his face inches from yours.

"Don’t roll your eyes at me," he warned, his voice low and dangerous.

"You’re annoying," you shot back, trying to mask the thrill that raced through you at his closeness.

A smirk spread across his face, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Oh, am I?” he murmured, his voice dripping with a playful edge. “Was I also annoying when I gave you an orgasm without asking for anything in return?”

Your pulse quickened, and you struggled to keep your composure. "No. You’re just annoying now," you muttered, trying to ignore the heat pooling inside you.

Rafe’s eyes darkened, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You’re annoying too, you know that?"

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “How so?”

His face darkened slightly, the playfulness turning into something more intense. “You rejected me earlier today when I wanted something more to happen,” he said, his tone holding a hint of frustration.

“It wasn’t like that—” you started to explain, but he cut you off, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke.

“But I bet you’d want another orgasm. wouldn’t you?” he whispered, his voice rough, sending a shiver down your spine.

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, you were speechless. Unable to hold back, you nodded slightly, the admission causing a flicker of amusement in his gaze. His hand slid along your thigh, pressing just enough to make you part your legs in response. He chuckled softly, his fingers skimming over the edge of your short dress, teasing you with a touch that was both gentle and maddeningly slow.

“Is that why you’re wearing this short dress?” he murmured, his fingers brushing along the edge of your panties. “You knew I would be here.”

“Rafe—” you breathed out, your voice shaky as his touch ignited a fire inside you.

He grinned, a smug glint in his eyes as he continued teasing you, his fingers brushing against the damp fabric of your panties. “Shit. Does this turn you on?” he asked, his voice low and amused.

You bit your lip, trying to stifle the moan building in your throat. His hand shifted, moving your panties to the side, his fingers slipping through your wet folds, making you whimper.

“Are you turned on because anyone could catch us?” he questioned, his voice rough, “Or do I just have that effect on you?”

“Both,” you answered quickly, barely able to contain yourself.

Rafe let out a quiet laugh, pleased by your neediness. His fingers moved with more purpose, sliding over your sensitive skin, his touch driving you closer to the edge. You clutched at his hand, desperate for him to keep going.

“This is the last time I’m giving you an orgasm without getting one in return,” he warned, his tone dark and possessive.

Rafe’s lips found your neck, and he began to leave a trail of heated kisses, making sure to leave a mark. You clung to him, your need for him overpowering any sense of caution. His hand moved expertly, and you felt yourself melting under his touch, gasping as he continued.

"Do you ever touch yourself while thinking of me?" he murmured, his breath sending shivers down your spine.

"Yes," you admitted, barely able to form the word.

He groaned softly, his own desire evident in the way he pressed against you, his breath hot against your skin. “I’d like to see that,” he murmured, his fingers speeding up, the pressure driving you closer to the brink.

The intensity in his gaze made your cheeks flush, and you could barely meet his eyes as he looked at you, his own filled with a fierce longing. You felt your resolve crumble as he kissed your neck again, his fingers working faster. The familiar tension built in your core, your breaths coming quicker as he guided you toward the edge. When your orgasm hit, you bit down on your lip to muffle your moans, your body going limp as the pleasure overtook you.

Rafe held you steady, his grip strong, and as your legs threatened to give out, he kept you from crumpling to the ground.

TAGS: @wearemadeofstardust0 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp

[show-us-kaidenshenandoah]

one of the worst things about re-runs on cable is that sometimes youll see a random episode that you remember, decide "eh, sure" to watching, and one of the details you were ignorant to before now (but not anymore) now haS A SEVERELY DIFFERENT MEANING to the point it makes you do a spit-take

anyway. feel free to share your recent "eYO WHAT" moment of At Least I Know Now; I May Be Shocked But I Cannot Blame Myself For What I Did Not Know That I Didn't Know Before regarding re-watching a piece of media that had some small or big pillar within your life (cable or not, tv show or not). would love to know other people's so i feel less inattentive for having entirely forgotten this or forgot to process this or whatever the most apt term is

i'll go first:

my parents have been watching various cop-shows of the Not-Comedic variety (meaning no "Psych" and no "Brooklyn-99", boo), and the tangential (fireman-shows, paramedics, forensics, etc) and/or their spin-offs, since i was like... 7 years old at the youngest? before i was in middle-school at any rate

and for a long fucking time (for good reason, look how many fucking episodes there are), their favorite go-to was "NCIS". the original one with Gibbs, not one of the spin-offs

and bc i had Muslim friends online, a few in my middle and high school classes, and a few also irl outside of school (who were also kind enough to teach me, which they didn't have to do; but i was very privileged that they did), i was at least moderately aware this show had a ton of loudly rampant anti-Muslim/anti-Middle East/etc propaganda. that's who The Big Bad tended to be. which is frustrating. but it was way harder for it to brainwash me as id inwardly groan that "i dont know enough about this topic to be an expert in any way, but i do know this show is so Islamophobic that i wouldn't be surprised if they made this vitriol up". so i do want to mention that is a very huge Problem Area here

so i knew this huge problem existed in the show. i knew i had blind-spots. but i thought i had a good general awareness of all the propaganda in "NCIS"

...i did not. otherwise, i wouldn't have an "i'll go first" to go first with

bc i always remembered that Ziva David was Jewish, but i never memorized nor before had the context to process what it meant that she was an Israeli Jewish person

bc, since the late 1800s to the early 1900s, Israel has been trying to colonize Palestine and actively commit genocide to the indigenous inhabitants of the lands that were once Palestine, killing Palestinians of all faiths, including Jewish and Muslim Palestinians. so. that detail about Ziva does inform her character, the narrative's message, and makes it all the more obvious what kind of propaganda this show is. bc. uh. i knew i should never trust "NCIS" beforehand bc of its Islamophobic propaganda. did not realize a sizable chunk of that was also in a venn-diagram style overlap with Zionism. wow. okay

and furthermore!! apparently! even though it is 2024!!! and both protestors and allies alike are doing their best to keep Palestine in the news as a ton of people try to fund more Palestinian families to get out of danger!! — it's JUST been announced the networks newest installment within the "NCIS" Connected Universes will be the Paramount+ exclusive spin-off "NCIS: Tony & Ziva". and i am absolutely not going to tell my parents about said annoucement bc wtf

(which anybody who wants to maybe Reblog/Reply/send an Ask to say "that's so mean of you to do your parents": shut the fuck up. alright? focus up. talk shit in meaningful ways instead, like to help donate to Palestinian families in need. okay? okay.)

anyway

(1) uh, sure, feel free to eventually boycott "NCIS: Tony & Ziva" when it comes out, but this show won't be dropping for a while and a half. sO PAY MORE ATTENTION TO THE MORE-PRESSING AND TIME-SENSITIVE THINGS BELOW PLS AND THANKS 🤗💗💕

and (2) feel free to reblog and potentially share your own "eYO WHAT" Didn't Know Back Then What I Didn't Know re-watch stories to better help engage with this post through the tumblr algorithim (all the better if youre funnier than me (shouldnt be hard lol) tho a comedic story isn't a necessity for engaging) and get these Palestinian families Go-Fund-Me accounts in front of people who can afford to donate

and (3)!! i looked for the most recent Go Fund Me link-collection post ive reblogged to have copied down into this post (as someone whose disabilities and lack of wealth means the best i can consistently do is reblog here/repost on tiktok, spread awareness in my irl life, and so on. i irregularly use social media due to how drained my disability + doctor appts make me. i am doing this purely to see if it can help, i do not want attention or to be used as a resource when i cannot reliably be one with my current health situation. instead of me, please go follow (and donate to!!) these families and follow this user to keep the cycle of information and aid going!!)

this vetted collection was originally posted here, by @seance

@anqer - From War to Education: Abdelrahman Resilient Journey

@fatma93gaza - Support Fatima's Family in Gaza After Heartbreaking Tragedy

@emanfamily - Donate to help my family live in peace

@basel-19951995 - Help me evacuate my family and rebuild a new start

@ayaalanqarsblog - Save Gaza: A Brighter Future for Aya and Her Family

@ashraf-family2 - Hope for Gaza: Support Ashraf's Family Rebuild Their Lives

under the read-more is me just Knowing The Internet Can Be Toxic and having further context (about my family + "NCIS") can help curb a few people somewhat. at least it gives me "the autistic sense of peace knowing i have fully explained myself"(TM) so i can more clearly go "that's an unproductive response of pure Bad Faith. blocked". however, i didn't want this post to be longer than it is so as itd have a better chance at ✨️engagement✨️ and $$$ if its not a # Long Post

here's my list of things that clarify some context of this post, but overall dont matter. and also adding any of them Above The Read More would make people less likely to interact and reblog than i already assume people will (bc i dont got a lot of followers lmao c'est la vie, long as i did my best to help), as people either hesitate to reblog or dont reblog Long Posts. so these were all originally a part of the Above The Read More narrative before i thought it overall better to move them down here since i already did not wanna delete them entirely

sorry for any misspellings, im dyslexic and am writing this casually from my phone

like it wasn't until the past 5 or 6 years that my parents got sick of re-watching the "NCIS" re-runs on cable? and i'm 27 as of writing this. so minus 6 years, and that means from sometime before i was in middle school up until i was 21, this was a regular and favorited re-watched show they'd tune in for new episodes of and re-runs of whenever they stumbled on it. and, due to said 5 or 6 years, it's recently accumulated to have been enough time where, if "NCIS" is on now, they aren't AS sick of it anymore? as in, it's not their #1 favorite anymore still, but they will watch it with mild apathy/contentment; especially if it's an episode they still remember the plotline of VS a new episode that they dont. but, overall, even when id be in the room but on my phone or in the next room over and doing my hw: this show was a consistent pillar of my life growing up, at least in the background if not further up close

and, bc i know certain irrational parts of the internet will get mad i ever even dared passively absorb this show: dont be mad at ME bc "NCIS" had funding and viewership, im not a network head nor did i make the choice to have Ziva be Israeli. hell, i couldn't control the TV and refuse to give them viewership; i was a minor, my mom and dad were in charge, and my dad especially let me know him wanting to watch a show mattered more than me not wanting to watch it. he wouldnt change the channel on his favorite show. and though there were times i was invested, and i do have good memories here and there with my parents watching these various shows on/off, i knew also to question every villain they had and do my best to unpack/analyze whatever congrument narrative that was in their show that alligned with a thought i had about Islam as a monolith that i couldn't source back to my Muslim friends or learning about Islam on my own time. im ultimately glad i learned so much from it in that way. and i think that is the better way to go-- to watch whatever, but unpack as needed when you realize your biases-- rather than proverbially "burn the books" of whatever media you dislike and/or deem problematic. which this show is definitely problematic. but im still glad i learned from it in the ways that i have, and that i can use my history with the show to trick the algorithm maybe and get these families some additional attention

my chronic memory loss symptom means i am naturally predisposed to not be able to consistently remember certain things, especially details about people that didn't have emotional weight to me or that didn't come up too often, sometimes including things like a friend's ancestry or ethnicity. but, uh, i guess either none of my past Muslim friends were Palestinian?? or else any that were? they did not have the vocabulary or bandwidth to explain Palestine's fraught history of being oppressed by Israel to me (fair enough)?? i know one of my current Muslim friends definitely is Palestinian, but we met when i was 23 or a bit older (aka: after my parents were already sick of "NCIS", so the show and Ziva David being Israeli didnt come up; we did not know each other during the height of me having Muslim friends in middle and high school kindly helping teach me a few things)

personally, all my Jewish friends are from high school or before. and apparently, i don't have their social media or else they maybe deleted/renamed their accounts bc im not finding them in my Following lists. so i have no idea if any were from Isn'tReal. but i assume not, out of wishful thinking if nothing else. friendly reminder that antisemitism isn't cool, period; and also that calling out Zionism =/= antisemitism

alright then. dont mind me, im just gonna hc that one of my favorite "NCIS" characters is now a Palestinian Jewish person out of spite now. bc that's fucked up, that they made her Israeli on top of all this Islamophobia. and Palestinian people of all faiths are being impacted by Israel, yes, but there absolutely is Islamophobia involved in this genocide. so, like, excuse me, im just gonna casually re-write her in my head; cognitive dissonance is a helluva drug bc, like, you know the thing you like is bad but, like, what if you imagine if it was good lmao rip

unrelated tangent, if anybody was curious: "Bones" has been my stand-out favorite of my parents' rotation. i related to Dr Brennan's autism-coding, the show had good dialog and was largely sincere despite its writers' early-2000s-caused questionable creative-decisions, i find its obvious absurdity funny (wh... why would a museuem ever agree to this, they do FBI crime-work next to dinosaur skeletons, this setting is ridiculous lmao), and it has been the closest to comedy my parents would watch. it's a fun time, with some must-skip episodes, yeah, but it's fun. in my free time, i have also watched "Psych" and "Brooklyn-99" though, and i like them! im not a big fan of cop-shows and its tangential forms regardless though. but yeah, i do not recommend "NCIS". it wore me down over the years, but i do not recommend it. for obvious reasons i have now already fully explained lol

the next bullet point below is the original full form of what i said about "the difference between a protestor versus an ally" before editing my rambling down so i didnt detrack from the post's actual point:

↳ and both protestors and allies alike ("allies" being people who cannot protest for disability and/or safety reasons, but who do spread pro-Palestine news how/when they can and donate if/when it is possible for their wallets) are doing their best to keep Palestine in the news as a ton of people try to fund more Palestinian families to get out of danger!! [edit: i would be unsurprised if people disagreed with me that what i call "allies" is different than a "protestor". but i am keeping the term literal at the moment to give credit where credit is due for these organizers, influencers doing content and outreach to sponsor a family or multiple families, sit-out camp and walking-parade and curbside-standing protestors, and so on and so forth. however, my health and disability makes me specifically only capable of "ally" status; so maybe i am wrong and am doing some form of self-deprecation. i personally doubt it; i think im still right to internally have a dividing line made so literal like this. but i am open to the idea if nothing else. feel free to agree to disagree with my diction, i guess lol]

the next bullet point below is the original full form of what i said about anyone saying "that's so mean of you to do to your parents" before editing my rambling down so i didnt detrack from the post's actual point:

↳ (which anybody who wants to maybe Reblog/Reply/send an Ask to say "that's so mean of you to do your parents": shut the fuck up. okay? my parents don't have an interest in learning how to work streaming services anyway, it's fine. and my mom supports Palestine, so what i said is honestly hyperbole as she'd be down for our household to mostly-intentionally boycott the spin-off anyway. bc, yeah, its SO easily done for us since we dont have any streaming subscriptions, much less Paramount+ specifically. and my dad's early dementia makes his general stance unpredictable, bc it depends what he remembers is happening in the news/in politics, much less in Palestine specifically; he'll be "meh. okay" about being kept out of the loop. okay? focus up. talk shit in meaningful ways instead, like to help donate to Palestinian families in need. okay? okay.)

the next bullet point below is the original full form of what i said about "feel free to eventually boycott 'NCIS: Tony & Ziva' when it comes out" before editing my rambling down so i didnt detrack from the post's actual point:

↳ uh, sure, feel free to eventually boycott "NCIS: Tony & Ziva" when it comes out, since assumedly the networks are not going to ret-con that Ziva David is an Israeli Jewish person (which. her actress' wiki says she herself is neither Israeli or Jewish anyway, so literally no reason for anybody there to dig their heels in about this detail) and there's no reason for us to have ever had, much less have even more Zionism (+ likely still Islamaphobic) propaganda added to our current media landscape. but this show won't be dropping for a while and a half, sO PAY MORE ATTENTION TO THE MORE-PRESSING AND TIME-SENSITIVE [LINKS ABOVE THE READ MORE] PLS AND THANKS 🤗💗💕

the next bullet point below is the original full form of what i said about "here is why i am not a good person to follow to help you keep an eye on Palestine; go follow the families and the person who organized these links instead" before editing my rambling down so i didnt detrack from the post's actual point:

↳ (as someone whose disabilities and lack of wealth means the best i can consistently do is reblog here/repost on tiktok, spread awareness in my irl life, and so on. i irregularly use social media due to how drained i get. i do not have the luxury of energy, esp with all my diagnostic journey medical appointments further tiring me out, to make original posts on a regular basis like Palestinian families deserve and need from their regular backers. i thought of this post idea and worked on it on/off with the bits of energy i have had; i am doing this purely to see if it can help, i do not want attention or to be used as a resource when i cannot reliably be one with my current health situation. instead of me, please go follow these families and this user to keep the cycle going)

[heyclickadee]

It’s only been a month-and-a-half, but I finally got a chance to watch another episode of The Bad Batch for my rewatch. So! Long, rambling, mildly nonsensical thoughts on TBB, Season 1, Episode 2: “Cut and Run:”

1. This is one of the episodes my brother has seen—he’s seen up through episode 8—and he doesn’t like it. He told me that this is one of the “bad” episodes, but rewatching it I just…I can’t agree with that. It’s not a big action packed set piece, sure, but it doesn't have to be. It's a good little episode that succeeds at what it’s trying to do, and sets the stage for the story moving forward.

2. The FONDNESS on Echo’s face as he’s looking at Omega all tired out after going through the ship I CAN’T. Also, I love how the discussion Echo and Hunter have about Omega, and Echo asking what in the world they’re going to do with her, is the first bit we see of the way Hunter and Echo are going to bounce off of each other. Hunter makes decisions, Echo asks questions and prods at whether they’re the right decisions, Hunter bounces more ideas off of Echo, and so on. It’s a dynamic I adore and I’m excited to revisit more of it.

3. This is a random background thing, but clouds in the background as the Marauder lands near the Lawquane farm are stylistically different than the clouds are going to be later on in the series. They’re very painterly here, but later on they’re going to be a little more realistic. I think it’s just one of those things that developed over time. Maybe. I kind of want to keep my eye on it.

4. Speaking of clouds, it is kind of interesting that there is that thunderstorm that’s building a few minutes after they land, which Hunter notices, and then Cut mentions the storm that’s coming (referring to the Empire) later on, and then the storm thing doesn’t come up again later in the episode. It might just be one of those things where there was a scene that got cut after the boarding process, but they didn’t revise the earlier parts of the episode script, but I also want to keep my eye on the storm motif through the rest of the series to see if and when it comes up again, and if there’s any kind of pattern. There probably isn’t, buuuut this hiatus is going to go on for a while, so. Ya know.

5. JUST FEEL THE GRASS, THE DIRT, JUST LIKE SHE DREAMED THEY’D BEEEEEEEEEE

6. Okay, but, I genuinely love Omega’s reaction to stepping out of the ship onto Saleucami, and how it contrasts with the rest of the batch. They’re all on alert, business as usual, and Omega’s so, so excited to be there. She’s wowed by dirt. She’s never seen anything like it. I love the little detail of her taking a deep breath of the air on this new planet. She’s probably never smelled air that didn’t smell like salt and antiseptic (this is just me, but I sort of imagine Kamino smelling a little like a hospital). She’s never stood on ground that wasn’t plastoid or durasteel or whatever Kaminoan floors are made of. She’s probably never seen so much color in one place or had a chance to run after a space butterfly or do much of anything. She’s so small and everything is new and she’s so excited for this big new adventure and nothing bad had better ever happen to her (and now I'm crying in Star Wars).

7. Another background thing, but what are these?

What are these crops? Is this space corn? Corn that’s just one giant kernel? Orb corn? Corb? Wookieepedia doesn’t say (as far as I can tell) and I know this is silly, but I want to knooooooow.

8. Tech’s little smirk as he says, “Why not? We’re all deserters now,” to Echo gets me every single time. Man just does not care about breaking the rules.

9. Regarding the Lawquane’s booby trap: One, the way that Wrecker immediately starts blasting is just…I don’t know. There’s something sad about how jumpy he is. Second, is the booby trap to keep local wildlife away, like the nexu, or unwanted visitors who might be looking for Cut?

10. Suu looks AMAZING in her new outfit (I'll admit I didn't love the monokini and chaps look for her), and Cut. Cut. Why? Is your facial hair like this?

11. I love Cut and Suu. I love Cut and Suu so much. Healthiest couple in the entire galaxy far far away, I swear. And I love their silly matching pun names.

12. Wrecker is SO DANG HAPPY to see Jek and Shaeeah and they are so happy to see him I can't. Wrecker is so soft with kids. It kills me.

13. Jumping off of that, though, there's a wonderful little untold story here with the CF99 and the Lawquanes. Because they don't just know Cut, who they could have theoretically met before Cut deserted or before the war even started, they know the entire family. And they know the entire family well enough that Wrecker's "Uncle Wrecker" and that Cut immediately asks about Crosshair and why he's not there, knowing that the most logical answer is that he died; Hunter's one-on-one conversation with Suu is just as casual and familiar as his one-on-one conversations with Cut. I don't think it was Rex who introduced them, because Echo didn't know about Cut until this episode, and Echo's got a much longer and closer history with Rex than the rest of the batch have; if Rex didn't tell Echo about Cut, he probably didn't tell CF99 either, meaning that Hunter and the rest probably met the Lawquanes independently.

And, on the one hand, I neeeeeeeeeeeed to know how they all met. Did they meet Cut when they were cadets and then Suu later on and then both of them and their kids all together later on? Did they just wander across the Lawquane farm while stationed on Saleucami? Did Suu help train clones on Kamino (she's a really good shot, after all), and is that how she met Cut? Did she meet CF99 that way? Did they all collectively help Cut desert? But, on the other hand, I don't actually want to know the story. I like that these people have history to which we're not privy. It helps them exist outside the bounds of the story and feel a little more real.

14. It's nice that Echo practically jumps to ask about Rex after Cut brings him up. It sets up the way Echo's going to go off with Rex's group later on, sure, but I think the reason Echo gets so excited here is because this is the first indication he has that ANY of the other clones he knows escaped the programming they talked about last episode and left the Empire. And the fact that it's Rex specifically…. It's a little bit of hope and normalcy he can cling to in a pretty awful situation.

15. "Where's Crosshair?" "It's…complicated." Yeah, I'll say. (Exhibit A of Hunter having to be dragged kicking and screaming before he will talk about a n y t h i n g I am putting him in a salad spinner)

16. The way this first conversation in the Lawquane home goes from Crosshair, to Rex and the "behavioral implant" he brought up to Cut, and then directly to the inhibitor chips is interesting, because it kind reinforces what we already know about Crosshair's situation from episode one--that he has a chip, that it activated, that his chip was turned up to eleven--while also emphasizing the fact that the rest of the batch doesn't really know or understand what that means. Even Tech, who just kinda sussed out that the chips exist because obviously the Kaminoans modified clone behavior and obviously that's how they did it, and who absolutely suspected that Crosshair's behaviour in "Aftermath" had something to do with the programming (the way he looks up at Crosshair when he says he "can't be certain" that they're immune), doesn't seem to one-hundred percent get what it means and how little choice a clone with an active chip has.

17. Omega knows about the chips because she grew up in Nala Se's lab. I want to know what else she knows (because she knows a lot she doesn't talk about).

18. The writers/animators/board artists/showrunners absolutely nailed the way a kid who hasn't been around other kids much hesitates around them with Omega here.

19. Hunter smiling after Omega as she goes out to join the other kids and then being surprised to see Cut and Suu watching him be all fatherly gets me every time. I love how pretty much half the conversations they have with him are basically just, "You're a dad now! Congratulations!" "What? No, I'm not." "Sure. Keep telling yourself that."

20. Jumping off of that, this episode is absolutely crucial for Hunter's development. Half of the reason Hunter is the way he is through the rest of the series is because he spends this episode watching Cut and Suu (especially Cut) and everything Cut does, and then, when Omega stays with the bad batch at the end of the episode, spends the rest of the series desperately trying to be like Cut. And, in some ways, that's good. He's gentler with Omega, more understanding of the fact that she's a kid, trying to keep her out of danger and allow her to have a childhood, putting the family he still has first, trying to leave their old lives as soldiers behind as much as possible, etc. But when he inevitably fails to be Cut, or to be a parent the exact same way Cut is, because he's a different person and his situation is completely different than Cut's is, he starts shutting down, because he can't cope with the failure. And that runs headlong into the way he feels he's failed as a brother AND as a leader, and so by the time we get a few episodes into season two Hunter is deeply depressed and visibly unwell. (Hey, another parallel between Crosshair and Omega--Hunter probably feels like he's failed both of them.)

21. Another reason I'm going to take the word filler and put it on a shelf where people can't reach it as far as this episode is concerned is because this episode is the first time we get a hint of how the rise of the Empire is affecting regular people. Not clones, not jedi, not former republic officers, not Kaminoan politicians, not freedom fighters--just regular people trying to live their lives. The way that the Empire is setting up the chain code system, regulating travel, clamping down hard on remote planets and former separatist worlds (Saleucami changed hands several times over the course of the war), all told through the story of CF99 helping this one family escape and get to safety, is an important story to have early on.

22. Aaaaand jumping off of that, I love how Hunter's focus over the course of this episode shifts from laying low and learning how to hide to, "Okay fellas, we are getting Cut and Suu and the kids out of here even if we have to blast our way out." And I know Hunter's going to hesitate to help people out more and more as the series goes on, but this is a pattern we're going to continue to see. The bad batchers aren't really heroes in a traditional Star Wars sense; with the exception of Echo, who has to leave the group to do it, they're not fighting the empire head on or trying to overthrow tyranny, not directly. But they do help out in small ways, usually a person or a family at a time, usually helping them escape a bad situation, and that's not nothing in a galaxy where the empire exists. I sort of wonder if this isn't pointing to where the batch is ultimately going to end up. They might not be freedom fighters or rebels in the end the way Rex and Saw are. Maybe they'll just be focused on getting people--clones, families, maybe even surviving jedi--to safety. Maybe they help organize something like The Path. Maybe. I guess we'll see, eventually.

23. Oh gosh this is getting long. Are you surprised, though? (Still sorry, though. Not sorry enough to pare it down, but still sorry.)

24. The kids immediately go to Suu for help when the nexu attacks, and it's great. Also ECHO'S AND TECH'S FACES when Omega almost gets hurt and Wrecker asking if she's okay I love how much they already care about her 😭

25. The way Echo goes from being completely flabbergasted by Tech's plan to get the ship impounded on purpose, to being completely for it, to being real snarky about it once things start going wrong sends me every time. I mean. I know, I know we all joked about how Echo would disapprove of the riot race in "Faster" if he'd been there, but you know what? No. Hunter would have shut it down if he'd been there, but Echo? It would have gone like:

Tech: I will be the racer.

Echo: GOOD. FUCK 'EM UP, TECH.

Later on, during the race

Echo: This is suicide! I can't believe you thought this was a good idea, Tech!

Tech, calmly going 200 mph: You also thought it was a good idea, as I recall.

Echo: I think it would be a good idea for you to shut up!

Anyway, I love their banter.

26. So…Tech made enough counterfeit chain codes that there was one for Omega, meaning he knew Hunter planned for Omega to leave Saleucami with Cut and Suu, and that Echo may have known as well (even though Hunter clearly didn't include Wrecker in the conversation), and that he planned on taking the chain codes to Cut and Suu himself. Meaning that he was probably also planning on taking Omega with him when he took the chain codes over so that she could leave with them. And Omega ran off and took the chain codes to Cut and Suu before Tech could, of course, meaning that that didn't happen, but I really want to know how the conversation would have gone if Tech had had to tell Omega to come with him on the code run. I mean.

Tech: I will need Omega to accompany me to the departure site.

Omega: Me? Why? Do you need me to get into a crawl space on a super secret mission.

Tech: No. You need to be at the transport because you are leaving Saleucami with Cut and Suu.

Omega: Aaaaaand all of you, right?

Tech, who mentally signed the sibling adoption papers the second Omega said she wanted to sit with them in the cafeteria scene in "Aftermath" (I will die on this hill, he does not stop smiling at her after that): Nnooo….

Omega: ….

Tech: I assume Hunter told you.

Omega: starting to cry

Tech, on the comms: Hunter. Omega is crying, Hunter. She is upset about leaving. Hunter. What do I do? Hunter?

(This is probably, in retrospect, why Tech apparently didn't tell her, either.)

27. The poncho and the floppy hat was such a good look for Wrecker. (Also, the audacity of having Wrecker bonk his head on that pipe in the background. I know it's a funny reference to Jango doing it in AotC which is a funny reference to that one stormtrooper in A New Hope, but it still fills me with dread.)

28. Shout out to Cut and Suu. Cut's technically a wanted man, they're escaping Saleucami by the skin of their teeth, they're about to be refugees, they've got two kids to look out for already, they have an uncertain future, and when Hunter asks them to take Omega they're instantly okay with it. They're ready to take in another kid simply because that kid needs to be taken care of. And THEN they talk to that kid and ask what she wants (we don't see this happen, but it's heavily implied), take what that kid actually wants into account, and let her go back to where she wants to be. They are the best and I love them.

29. The character animation on Hunter during the scene where he tells Omega that she's going with the Lawquanes is so, so good. Just. The way he can hardly look at her, the surprise when Omega says she wants to stay with the batch, the way his face hardens when Omega looks back because he's trying to hold everything in and the way Omega interprets that as Hunter wanting her gone even though he absolutely wants her to stay and just thinks he's doing the best thing for her--I want to bake the character animators cinnamon rolls and give them all a million dollars each. (Also an aside--this fits into a pattern of Hunter often doing what he thinks is best for his family rather than doing what he wants, and what he thinks is best often being different than what might actually be best.)

30. Another silly aside, and I didn't notice this until this watch through as I was looking at Cut stand next to Mr. Dorito, but Cut kinda has a little bit of a tummy. He's not fat, but he's definitely a little thicker around the middle than, say, Rex or Howzer. He's got a bit of a dad bod and it's honestly really nice to see a person gain a little weight while living a life they chose and clearly love.

31. I'm. I'm feeling a certain kind of way about Omega immediately assuming that she did something wrong and that the rest of the batchers don't want her around because of it (it's not just Hunter--when Tech and Echo react a little tersely to her being on the Marauder when it gets impounded she seems to assume that they're angry with her even though they're not), and Hunter getting rid of her (from her perspective) is some kind of reaction to that or a punishment for it, and it's not a good sort of feeling. Especially in light of the theories that Nala Se sent Emerie to Hemlock for some reason. I'm also feeling a certain kind of way about Omega losing her brothers once already as a very small child and losing them again at the end of season two and almost losing them in this episode because Hunter tries to send her away and. Just. Let this kid have her family, please. (This is another narrative reason why Tech has to be alive, btw.) (Also, I love the way that Hunter apologizes back and says he's got a lot to learn when Omega tries to apologize for "messing up.") (Also also the way Omega looks at her headpiece after she takes it off, complicated emotions are happening and I am really interested in her relationship with Kamino.)

32. "If this is where you want to be, then this is where you'll stay." 😭😭😭 I'm screaming because. I mean. What Hunter tries to do in this episode is exactly what Crosshair tells him to do with Omega in "Return to Kamino." And, on paper, Crosshair's right; living with fugitives in constant danger isn't a good life for a child. But being with her brothers no matter what is what Omega wants, and, after "Cut and Run," Hunter never stops taking Omega's choice here into account.

[perpetual-fool]

Reym 1

First meeting -

   It is a cool autumn afternoon. Gray clouds overhead cast the mountainside in a soft light. Rain patters on the roof of a little pavilion hidden in the trees, overlooking the forested valley below. It's secluded and peaceful. I like being out in nature, but usually there's too many people, the rain keeps people away. I think that's why I've always found it so soothing. Though to some extent it might just be because it was always hot where I grew up. Regardless, the overlook is a nice place to sit and think. I came here to ponder the mysteries of music with a small instrument and a little notebook, but got lost in thought instead. I hear the approaching sound of the rain on an umbrella behind me, but don't have the will to tear myself away from my rumination. As footsteps begin on the concrete pad they abruptly stop.

   "Oh, uh, I didn't think anyone would be here," says a quiet voice from behind me. "Is it okay if I join you?"    "I guess." I take a moment and try to process it, fruitlessly. "Yeah, sure."

   I scoot to the edge of the bench to make room. They sit.

   "So um, are you okay?" they ask. "You don't look like you're just enjoying the view."    "No, I'm not. But you probably shouldn't talk to me. I don't get along with people. No offense."    "Do you mind if I do anyway? or would you prefer I leave you alone?"

   A wave of pain and longing washes through me as I consider the possibility of a human connection. I push it back down.

   "Sure. I don't really want to be alone, but it just doesn't work. Sorry, I'm pretty sure I make people uncomfortable, but I can't really do small talk."    "Wow, you've got some issues, huh?"    "Yeah."    "Well that's promising."    "What? why?"    "People need support to grow into their potential. So if you've fallen to pieces, then you still have your whole story ahead of you. And I'm getting to see it from the very beginning, maybe. Also," they continue, "if you don't get along with anyone, you must be particularly interesting."    "I have never heard anything like that."    "Well maybe that's what you're missing. I'm Reym, what should I call you?"

   I manage to pull my eyes away from the nothing in particular they were stuck on, glancing over. They're slender, with jet-black hair hanging just past their shoulders. And they're cute. I might've thought they were a girl if I hadn't heard their voice. Although something about them doesn't strike me as being feminine. I was going to try and keep them at a distance, but feelings get the better of me.

   "Arden."    "Nice to meet you, Arden. So what's your deal?"    "As a person? or the thing that's bothering me?"    "I'd like to hear both. Let's start with the former, that's probably important backstory. Oh, uh, if you don't mind."    "I don't mind, but you're awfully forward. How come?"    "Simple answer would be 'why not?', so I think really you're asking why am I not more reserved. That sound right?"    "Yeah."    "Well in that case, hmm." They think for a minute. "You seem safe. I mean, you wouldn't be warning me away if you were some kind of predator. And you seem pretty open, if reluctant. I think I could get something juicy out of you."    "Fair enough, I guess. But I mean, in general, how can you just approach people like this? They're unpredictable, dangerous."    "I have pepper spray. Though I've never had a problem with anyone trying to attack me or something."    "That's.. not what I mean, I guess. I don't know what I'm asking, don't worry about it."    "I think you mean, why am I not afraid of rejection?"    "I think so."    "Well, that's personal. Show me yours first and maybe I'll trust you enough to tell you."    "Alright." I begin, "So, as a person, I'm autistic, I have little to no affective empathy, and I need a lot more for things to 'make sense' to me. The last one is the most significant. It's like I am alone in an empty world. There is nothing there to understand, and no one in there to connect to. And I got hurt, a lot, figuring that out."    "Why are you so open about it if you got hurt so much?"    "Because it doesn't matter. No one to connect to means on one to hide from. Or, on the slim chance that there is someone in there, then I have nothing to lose by sharing. And uh.."    "Yeah?"    "..because monkey brain is stupid and I find you attractive."    "It's stupid to find me attractive?"    "No no, I mean, my perception of how likely a connection is is being skewed by the fact that I really want it to be true."    "Ah, m'kay. Interesting."

   They scoot closer.

   "And what is it that has you preoccupied, Arden?" They ask.    "That's a lot to get into. Are you sure you want to know? And I guess, why?"    "I'm a writer. Weird perspectives like yours open up new worlds of possibilities for me. So yes, I'm sure. If you don't mind."

   "I am losing my mind. I've been dealing with feeling like shit about everything I think and feel and do for most of my life. I'm inclined to say it started with my religious upbringing, they're pretty explicit about teaching you that you are inherently evil. But that's for the sake of manipulation, and all stick and no carrot doesn't work. If I wasn't a freak I would've been getting something in return for giving up my soul. I presume that would have been a sense of belonging. But 'not belonging' is not remotely limited to religion. Or inversely, it seems like pretty much everything people believe is a religion, really."    "How do you mean?"    "I feel what defines a 'religion' is a set of prescriptive beliefs. Enforced by, if nothing else, social ostracism. But there don't seem to be any beliefs that aren't like that. There's nothing that's actually open to discussion in a meaningful way. And there's no one who describes their beliefs in terms of 'Here's this thing I observed, and this is my guess as to why that happened'. It's religion all the way down. Or, there's no meaningful distinction between 'religion' and anything else that people believe."    "Huh."

   They pull out a little notebook from their jacket and write something down.

   "Please continue." They say.    "Okay, so. The thing is, despite feeling guilty about everything, I don't necessarily know what I did, or why it was wrong, and whether I actually even did it in one case. I've been trying to figure out what I'm doing wrong for most of my life and I just can't figure it out. Which has to mean belief does not work the way I thought it does. It's not like I saw that I did harm and felt about that, I felt bad first and my brain went looking for something to pin it on. Meaning, 'guilt' is just an instinctive reaction to perceived rejection. And more broadly, nothing I believe is actually real. More or less. My brain is just making up stories to match my feelings."    "Does that mean you're now an enlightened being who has transcended humanity?"    "Heh, no. That would be like 'transcending' hunger by figuring out that I just need food. And lack of 'food' was the problem in the first place."    "How is figuring out what you need 'losing your mind' though?"    "To get what I need I have to cheat. I accidentally ran across this trick. I imagine sharing a thing with someone else, listen to what they have to say. And then I imagine them sharing the thing with me, and see what I think about it. I mean, they're both 'what I think' but shuffling it around is enough to make my brain feel like I'm interacting with another person. But that feels intuitively revolting, just, wrong. And I don't want to believe that everything people are is just stimulus and response. I want to believe in truth and love and friendship. Even though, that never worked for me. Like, there were six different times I might've killed myself if things had gone a little bit differently. And it's hard to accept. Like, there was one instance where someone took my feeling bad as proof that I knew and understood what I'd done wrong. And it's really hard to not just believe them. It's easier for me to think I must be lying about everything than to think they're just wrong. But then, I've had people telling me I'm lying or making up excuses since before my earliest memories. I guess: if I don't change, it's going to kill me. But if I do change then I'll be ripping up by the roots everything it means to be a person."    "Ooh, heavy stuff. Assuming it is just stimulus and response, what's so hard about it?"    "Ambivalence, I guess. It feels like, or rather felt like, I can almost fit in. I mean, primarily the conflict is between my need to belong and my need for congruence, needing things to make sense. And so long as I don't dig too deeply, things almost seem to work. So long as I have gaps in my knowledge instead of conflicts, there's still hope."    "Could you maybe just not dig too deep?"    "No. I put things together too readily, it would be inevitable even if I don't go looking. And if I could avoid it then my need for congruence wouldn't be met. I never was happy, really."    "So it's just old memories holding you back?"    "I guess I.. yeah. 'Holding me back' though? What, like presuming this is progress?"    "It is, isn't it? I don't know where you're going, but clearly the old thing wasn't working for you."    "I can't argue with that. How do you deal with something like this though? The memories are already in there."    "Have you not changed how you feel about anything? Like, do you still feel guilty about masturbating or whatever?"    "Not as such. And yeah, I do. I know intellectually that the whole Christian taboo on recreational sex was probably instated after the black plague so that the Catholic church could recoup their numbers, but that doesn't help. I wasn't logically argued into it, I can't logically argue out of it."    "What about forming new memories?"    "Easier said than done, but I do have a little bit of experience with that. The new feeling doesn't just replace the old one, I'm stuck with both. I just end up with mixed feelings. Although.."    "Yes?"    "Lately I've been getting glimpses of things. It's fuzzy, but sort of like, if I can perceive a group's behavior as being entirely a function of social pressures then the judgment of the group becomes meaningless to me."    "Could you give me a hypothetical example?"    "..No. If I could then I wouldn't be stuck where I am. It's not coming out right."    "Do you know what's keeping you stuck?"    "It feels like my brain just doesn't want to look at it. Like it knows it's not going to like what it sees."    "Why not?"    "I think, consistency. Confronting this is like jumping off a cliff, and it really wants things to stay the same. Or at least, to not change too much too fast."    "Do you want to change?"    "Heh, well, mixed feelings. I have to. I haven't been coping well lately. I've been running on caffeine as soon as I wake up until the moment I can't stay awake anymore. And for the last two weeks at least there hasn't been a single day where I didn't drink. And it's not working. But, here's the solution. I just have to accept it. But I'm afraid."

   They scoot next to me.

   "Would it help to have company?"    "I don't know whether it would help, but I'd like that. Um," I hesitate, "I want to ask something. But I should ask if I can ask before I ask. But then asking if I can ask is as good as asking in itself."    "Why would you need to ask if you can ask?"    "I dunno, people get upset about it."    "Well I'm not exactly 'people', go for it."    "M-may I hold your hand?"    "Hehe, is that all?"

   They offer their hand. As I take it they weave their fingers between mine. I am overwhelmed with anxiety.

   "Is it stupid to feel insecure about something like this?"    "Maybe. Do you have some reason to think this would go poorly?"    "Yeah."    "And do you have some reason to think it would go well?"    "No."    "Then it doesn't sound stupid to me. How is it?"    "What, your hand?"    "Sure, I've had that hand for a long time you know, I'm quite fond of it."    "I'm not exactly a connoisseur of hands, but it's lovely."    "Aww, thanks."

   I take a moment take a moment to soak it all in; the view, the soothing rain, the warm body sitting next to me.

   "Alright, your turn. What's your deal, Reym? Shouldn't you be angry or disgusted with me by now?"    "I don't see why. But that's just your brain making things up, right? It happened, so you think that's how it supposed to be?"    "Yeah. I suppose so."    "Well maybe that's not how it should be. Maybe people just don't get you."    "I can't argue with the latter, but talking at the problem never helped. Okay I guess that part is more about me. S'yeah, tell me about you. If you're comfortable with that."    "There's not a whole lot to tell. I don't really get along with people either, they never quite follow what I'm getting at. And I kind of just.. don't try anymore."    "After all this, you're telling me you don't try?"    "I mean, I throw stuff out there just to see what I get back. But it's been a while since I really tried to communicate. People just don't see 'me', ya' know?"    "I can imagine."    "It's lonely."

   They squeeze my hand, I squeeze back.

   "How do you deal with it?"    "I just avoid thinking about it, get lost in my imagination."    "Does that actually work?"    "Mostly."    "What do you do when it doesn't?"    "I find somewhere quiet to sit and think."

   "Do you like what you're getting back?"    "Maybe. Do you still think I shouldn't talk to you?"    "I don't know. I'm not really thinking straight anymore."    "It doesn't really matter anyway, right?"    "I don't want to cause trouble for anyone else."    "Shouldn't that be their decision too?"    "I've never thought about it like that. Not that it would've come up, but everything has always been all my fault."    "You warned me, and it's not like you're hiding something, clearly. So whatever happens next is my fault, isn't it?"    "I don't know, I'm confused. I don't have a good way to phrase this, but I think I'd believe whatever how you treat me indicates I should."    "Yeah that is some terrible phrasing. Are you saying, if I act as though you are valuable to me, then you will believe you are valuable?"    "Yeah."    "And hypothetically, if I only acted that way when you were doing something for me, then you'd get your sense of self-worth from serving me?"    "Probably, yeah, if you could make that make sense."    "Is that something you should be telling someone you just met?"    "It's already happening whether I tell you or not. Really I think it's how people already work, that they generally just have enough reinforcement to keep them stable."    "It doesn't have to happen. I could leave you alone if you prefer that I don't interfere."    "..Please interfere."

   "Alright. I'll be gentle."    "Thanks."    "Unless you'd like me to be rough?"    "Hehh, I'm uh, really not ready for that conversation yet."    "Mm'kay. So then, Arden, what do you do when you're not having an existential crisis?"

   We keep chatting until the light fades and it gets too cold to stay, and walk back under my umbrella. We exchange contact information and promise to meet up later. On the drive home I feel like I'm floating. And that night I drift off to sleep feeling content in a way I've never known before.

[watchyourbluesturngolden]

howard stern

I'M BACK BESTIES!!!!! i'm not totally back to my normal writing, but I finally got through a whole piece! anyways I really liked this and i hope you do too :)

warnings: howard stern being a bitch, talk of weight & body image

word count: 2.1k

"Hello Harry, how are you doing today?"

"I'm well, thank you," Harry answered with a smile. He was on the Howard Stern Show, his first interview since Stevie had been born. He hadn't really wanted to; Howard was kind of a prick. Everyone knew this, but Jeff was convinced this was the right move. He said it would be good for Harry to get back into the swing of things, and no one else was available on short notice. In the end, Harry only agreed because you had pushed him to, reminding him it wouldn't be a very long interview and then he wouldn't have to interact with the abrasive man again for a long time.

"That's good to hear," Howard said. "How have you been these past couple months? Have you been getting anything done?"

"Not much that's music related, honestly," Harry laughed. "I've been busy with family things."

"Yeah, you've kind of been hiding away from the world for a while here, what's that about?"

"Well, as I'm sure you already know, my wonderful wife had a baby recently, so I've been pretty busy... just navigating the world of fatherhood." A smile crept onto his face at the mention of Stevie.

"That's a lot, isn't it? Babies are awful at that age," Howard chuckled.

"Uh- I wouldn't say awful," Harry's smile dropped a little and he sighed internally. He already knew how the rest of this interview would go: thinly veiled insults, questions that were way too personal, and having to pretend he didn't want to get up and walk out of the room. But he knew that wouldn't be a very good look for him, so he gritted his teeth and tried to think of happy things. Specifically, the fact that he would get to go home to his wife and baby in less than two hours. "She's a very sweet baby, we're completely in love with her."

"Yeah, sometimes they're cute, but mostly they just cry and wake you up in the night, don't they?" Howard asked smugly, as if he knew Harry's baby better than Harry did.

"Well, of course she wakes up in the night sometimes. She's hungry, can't blame her for wanting food, can I?" Harry asked, trying to speak lightly and with a smile, but he could feel his patience slipping. He was ready to go home and he was not in the mood to pretend to be happy when this man was clearly insulting his child.

"Sure, I just wish babies could be a bit less annoying when they want something."

Harry nodded, plastering a smile that hopefully looked real on his face.

"So, besides the annoying baby, how's the family? Everybody healthy over there?"

Harry nodded. "Everybody's happy and healthy. A little sleep deprived, of course, but we're managing well, i think. And by we, I mean Y/N. She's truly... just amazing. I have no idea how she does it- she's the one keeping everything together. There's no way I could do any of this without her."

"Yeah, she seems pretty great! I remember though, at first we were all a little uncertain about her. She's not exactly like the other women you have a history with, is she?"

"She's-" Harry started talking, but Howard cut him off.

"I just mean, we were used to seeing you with models and actresses and the like, so it was a bit of a shock to see you with one of us commoners, you know?"

Harry huffed a small laugh, still trying to sound polite. "When you love someone, that's all that matters."

"Right, of course, but don't you get bored sometimes? You stopped going out so much when you got with her, almost like she was keeping you captive or something," He laughed.

"Are you asking me if my wife forced me to stop hanging out with my friends?" Harry squinted at the man.

"No, of course not, but..." He leaned closer with a malicious gleam in his eye, like he was about to hear some big secret. "Did she?"

"No," Harry said firmly. "She did not."

"Okay, okay, if you say so," Howard put his hands up, but then he leaned in again and spoke in an exaggerated whisper. "Blink twice if you need help."

Harry played it off with a laugh, crossing his arms over his chest.

"He's good," Howard laughed loudly. "Anyways, let's move on. Since you two are supposedly so happy-" He paused again, as if he expected Harry to cut it and give some dramatic confession about how terrible his relationship was behind closed doors. Harry only raised his eyebrows, signaling him to continue talking. "Tell us about that. When did you two get married again?"

"Almost 2 years ago," Harry said with a smile. "Our anniversary is coming up, actually, it's in 3 weeks."

"Oh wow, you guys moved fast with the whole kid thing, huh?"

Harry nodded. "We both knew we wanted kids and were ready to have them, so... yeah."

"Yeah, no point wasting time, right? How was Y/N after having the baby- Stevie, right?"

"Yeah, her name is Stevie," Harry smiled. "She was good. Again, she's amazing for going through that. She's- i'm just so lucky to have her."

"Did she bounce back right away?"

"I'm sorry?" Harry's brow furrowed.

"You know, did she get her figure back fast? I know that's a big issue for some women," He laughed again.

"Are you-" All traces of Harry's smile were gone now.

"I just mean, I hope she's working to get rid of the baby weight," Howard said casually, as if his words weren't extremely rude. "Just to make sure she can fit into her old clothes!"

Harry cleared his throat. He knew he had to speak very carefully, since this was something you had been very self conscious about. "Well, the two of us are concerned with the new life she brought into the world, not some old clothes, but she looks as beautiful as ever. The amount of pressure women face to live up to certain standards is disgusting to me, and it's especially bad for new mothers. My wife just went through an incredible process, she grew an entire human being in 9 months, then went through labor and the delivery, and she's being told to worry about her figure? That's wrong."

"Right, right, of course," Howard smiled, but Harry could tell he was annoyed at how he couldn't be tricked into speaking badly about his wife.

"I'm really over the whole thing, honestly," Harry said. "And I'm not even the one going through it."

Howard laughed nervously, seeming to finally take the hint that Harry was uncomfortable and annoyed with the topic. "Let's talk about your latest movie, why don't we?"

Harry was closed off through the rest of the interview; anyone could see that. He laughed less, his arms stayed crossed, and his answers were short. He was professional, but it went no farther than that. There was no more playful joking or easy conversation, just Harry trying to get through the interview as fast as he could. When it finally came to a close after his final song, Harry couldn't pack up fast enough. He made sure to say a polite thanks and goodbye before he hurried out to his car.

He sighed deeply before picking up his phone to call you.

"Hi baby!" your happy voice came from the other end. That was good, he assumed that meant you hadn't listened to the interview yet.

"Hi love," he smiled, his mood already improving just from hearing your voice. "Did you listen to the interview?"

"I have been- I couldn't right at the beginning, Stevie was crying, but I caught the end. Why?"

"Why was she crying?" Harry ignored your question, instantly worrying about his baby.

"Sometimes babies cry for no reason, Harry. She's okay, I promise. Anyways, what's up with the interview?"

Harry sighed. "Just the normal for a Howard Stern interview- he asked some very personal and rude questions. Just prepare for that."

"What else is new?" You laughed. "Are you coming right home?"

"Yeah, unless you need anything?"

"Nope, I think I'm good. See you soon!"

"Love you, bye," Harry said, ending the call and starting the car to begin the drive home.

-----

"I'm home," Harry called, removing his coat as he walked in the door.

"We're in here," you responded, not moving from your spot on the couch where you were nursing Stevie.

Harry walked in, a small smile on his face as he looked at the two of you.

"Hi," He sighed, plopping down on the couch next to you.

"That bad, huh?" You asked, taking in his dejected tone.

He hummed in response, leaning his head on your shoulder. "Those interviews are... always something."

"Yeah, I only caught the end, but you sounded pretty upset. What did he say?"

"He just..." Harry shook his head. "I don't think you should listen to it."

You turned your head to look at him. "Why not?"

"He's just very rude and pushy, as always."

"Yeah, i figured, but I wanted to hear your songs," you argued with a small frown. "Did he say something really bad, or...?"

"He just makes some very impolite comments about you and our family."

"Oh," You nodded lightly. "I think I'll be okay, baby. I appreciate you trying to protect my feelings, but I'm used to it at this point, and I really couldn't care less about his opinion of me."

"Alright," he sighed. "If you're sure." He pulled out his phone, checking his email and going through some messages while you started the interview from the beginning. You could hear him grumbling under his breath and huffing every time Howard said something rude, but you ignored it, just laying a hand on his leg to calm him down.

By the time it was over, Harry was clearly not too happy. "I can't believe I went back on that show," he shook his head. "I'm never doing that again. I'm so sorry about what he said about you, I honestly should have just left-"

"It's okay," you cut him off with a smile. "Also, it was kind of hot to hear you get mad at him."

"Yeah?" He smiled back. "I thought I was very tame, actually. I wanted to say some other things, but I figured that wouldn't be a very good look for me."

"Right, but the way you attacked him but stayed professional... very hot," you laughed, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," He smiled, turning his head to kiss your cheek in return. "Is she done? I really need to hold her after the day I've had," He sighed dramatically, throwing his head back.

"I'm sure," you laughed, handing Stevie over to him and pulling your shirt back into place. "She's all yours."

"Hi baby," he cooed, holding her close to his chest. "I missed you so much."

Stevie yawned in response, cuddling into him.

"Oh, you missed me too?" He grinned. "See that? She missed me."

"She did," You agreed. "She was looking around when she heard your voice on the interview, she wanted to know where you were."

"I'm sorry," he pouted down at her. "I'll never go away again, and I'll never let the bad man be mean to you again."

"I don't think she's too upset about it, Harry," you laughed. "She is only 3 months old. She didn't exactly understand anything that went on."

"Excuse me," he said, looking very offended. "She may only be 3 months old, but she's very smart."

"Right, she's a genius baby, how could I forget?"

"I don't know," Harry shook his head at Stevie. "How could she forget how smart you are, hmm?"

Stevie yawned again, stretching her arms above her head.

"She's ready to take a nap," you said.

"Can I just hold her? I know it's not a good habit, to let her be held to sleep, but I don't want to put her down yet," Harry said, looking up with such pleading eyes, you couldn't possibly say no. Not like you would have said no anyways, but he didn't need to know that.

"Of course you can," you stood up, kissing his forehead before you turned away. "I'm gonna do the dishes, then we can watch something if you want."

"No, let me do those," he immediately protested.

"Harry, it's okay, I haven't done anything around the house since she was born-"

"And I'm not about to let you start now," he cut you off. "Come back here, please? Let's start that new show we were looking at the other night."

"Fine, but later I'm going to help you with the dishes."

"Fine," he smiled, agreeing with your compromise, even though you both knew he would argue later. "Now come back here."

[estrel]

for #spnprideweek day 1: coming out + flags

↳ summary: cas tells sam a secret that he hasn’t (really) told anybody else. surprisingly, sam has one too.  PRIDE series | gen, sam & cas | word count: 1.7k

[READ ON AO3]

Sam’s grimacing a little at the grease from the fries on Cas’ plate. Cas would usually make a comment, here, about Sam keeping his eyes on his own paper, or that it isn’t nearly as bad as the veggie burger sitting on his plate at Sam’s behest. This is the recompense, Cas wants to say, but his mouth is dry and no words are coming out even if he wants them to.

Accompanying the inability to speak is the twisting feeling in his gut that won’t even allow him to pick up the burger. The smell is too much, too, and Cas hates to admit it but it’s probably the grease, so he sits back a little against the peeling seat of the booth to calm his nerves.

It’s just Sam. He can do this. It’s only that this is the first time he’s telling anyone, and that definitely ups the stakes a little.

Well, that’s somewhat of a lie. Cas had told the nice woman at the grocery store check out last week when he’d seen her little pin on her work uniform and asked where he could get one. 

He hadn’t actually bought one, of course, but Cas eyed the small bin full of brightly colored pins on the way out, convincing himself it was stupid to get back in line again for something so small and inexpensive. Still, he’d thought about it on the drive back to the Bunker, and that night in his bed, and the full week following, up until now. 

Now, Sam was looking at him with concern, and wiping his mouth in that way that means he’s about to get serious.

“Is everything alright?” he asks, pointedly looking down at Cas’ loaded plate. He’d barely taken a bite, except for a few nibbles of his admittedly greasy fries. And it was weird because since becoming human, Cas' appetite had grown considerably, much to Dean's delight.

And—Dean. That's what this was all about, wasn't it? Sure, it was more than just Dean, it was all the humans that had made Cas' body ache like it hadn't before, had made him think of what it means to be in this vessel—his body—and be attracted to other...humans.

It was odd. In hindsight, things in Heaven had been so much easier in this regard. Cas had spent most of his life clueless to the capabilities of human attraction, and then he met Dean and it all came crashing down around him. Only then, Cas was ignoring it. He was facing the other way, because though he felt human, he wasn't. Not really.

But everything is different now.

Cas clears his throat.

"Well," he starts, "no. I am feeling what I believe you’d call...anxiety. My stomach hurts, I find I'm unable to eat, a-and my hands are—"

"Cas," Sam interrupts. Shaking. Cas' hands are shaking.

Sam's fully set his fork and knife down now, hands clasped together on the edge of the table. "Talk to me."

Cas licks his dry lips.

"It’s not...it isn’t a big deal, really,” and yet Cas can feel his heart hammering in his chest. He sucks in a breath. “But I’m, uh. I wanted to tell you that...I like men.”

Sam’s expression doesn’t change, but he blinks at Cas once from across the table.

“Okay.”

Cas raises an eyebrow, pulse slowing down a little with his next exhale. “Okay?”

Maybe it was that simple, and Cas was worrying over nothing. It’s just...this feels like it should be bigger. Earth-shattering. Like Sam should either hug him or tell him he never wants to speak to Cas again.

Instead, he just shrugs, picks up his fork and pushes bits of his salad around his plate.

But then Cas’ gaze moves to Sam’s face and...Sam’s frowning. Cas feels his heart thumping hard again, waiting for the ball to drop. It feels a little like when Dean sat him down to “talk,” right after he lost his powers, and, well. Cas knew how that had ended. He braces himself for the worst, schools his features to something more neutral.

“I’m,” Sam clears his throat, “I’m sorry you got nervous over all of that. I-I get that coming out is...” he laughs, “usually a bigger deal, but. You don’t have to worry with me, you know? I get it.”

That makes Cas pause. “You...do?”

Now Sam’s looking at him, eyes a little wide, but he works his jaw and gets the words out. “Yeah. Uh... well I guess now’s a good a time as any to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

The fork is set back down again. The bell over the diner door jingles. 

“In college...you know about Jess,” Sam says, jogging Cas’ memory. He knows, so he nods and Sam continues, “Well we uh. We actually met in a Gender Studies class. I thought, ‘pff, easy A,’ but it was actually way more complex than I originally thought, so she kind of...tutored me.” Cas raises an eyebrow, and Sam rolls his eyes.

“Actually tutored me. Whatever. Point is, I learned a lot—‘cause she was a great teacher—and...not just about the class, but about myself, too.” 

Cas nods slowly, beginning to catch Sam’s drift. “Okay...”

Despite his tone, Sam’s posture stiffens a little, like he’s uncomfortable, or not really used to this type of conversation. Cas does his best to relax into his seat to ease him, unfolding his arms.

“What I’m saying is,” Sam shrugs, “I’m...not...cis. Like, I don’t....I’m not um, a guy, I guess. Well, sort of. I’m non-binary.”

Cas is silent for a second, mulling it over in his head. Eventually it becomes long enough for Sam to say, “Uh...you know what? You can forget it, man—”

“No!” Cas says, almost knocking over his plate in the process. The silverware clatters as it falls onto the table, and Sam flinches a little. “I was just thinking...I want to apologize if anything I’ve said about your gender has ever made you uncomfortable, or if you—”

Sam’s out-facing palm makes Cas stutter to a stop. There’s a weird guilt settling in the pit of his stomach, and the anxiety that he’d thought was gone is back full force again. Cas tears off a piece of his napkin.

“Cas, dude. Calm down,” Sam laughs. He takes a deep breath, and Cas follows his lead. They breathe in and out together for a beat, and when Cas feels fairly calmer, Sam pushes both of their plates aside.

“There’s no need to apologize for something you couldn’t have known about,” he starts, shaking his head a little, “and you haven’t done anything wrong, either. I still use he and him pronouns, and sometimes they and them. And besides, it’s not like I go around telling people. Especially with, uh, the way I was raised...I’ve been hesitant, you know? It was great in college, people were really supportive when I told them. But then when I started hunting again...I don’t know. 

“My dad...uh. I tried telling him, once. Didn’t go too well, so I didn’t try it again. I think that’s why Dean...” he shakes his head, frowning down at the table again. “It wasn’t easy, growing up the way we did. You could probably understand that.”

Cas nods. Under the table, his napkin is shredded into bits. 

“I do. I think, in a way, I also understand being trans.” Sam jerks their head up, intrigued. 

“Angels...we don’t experience gender the same way humans do. In fact, the concept is entirely nonexistent in Heaven. So, when we take vessels...”

“You’re essentially defining yourself,” Sam says in awe. It makes Cas smile to see them back in their element, leaning forward a little to listen better. “I never thought about it that way, not really.”

Cas shrugs. “I’m not sure all of my siblings did, either. Many chose according to which vessel would best suit them and their form. That was definitely a factor in me choosing Jimmy, but I also found the thought of looking like a human man...greatly appealing.”

Sam’s nodding now, gaze darting to different parts of the table. Cas knows that means they’re mentally crafting an essay right about now, or thinking of what books in the Bunker might further help in their research about it.

“Wow,” he says, “that’s—I mean. Wow, Cas. Thanks for telling me that. And uh, the other thing.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

There’s a comfortable silence between them now, and Cas takes it as an opportunity to sip from his slightly-melted iced tea. 

“So,” Sam starts again slowly, “have you told Dean?”

Cas sucks in another deep breath, and Sam nods. “Yeah,” he says, “me neither.”

It surprises Cas a little that Sam hasn’t told him, and he expresses that with an inquiring eyebrow. 

Sam purses his lips and dodges the unspoken question. “Dean’s not a bad guy. You probably know that better than anyone except me. You know he’d still love you if you told him.”

Cas’ heart pounds at the mention of the word. When Sam notices, he feels his ears begin to heat with a blush. 

“Oh,” Sam smiles, “that. I figured. For a while now, but I didn’t wanna say anything.”

Cas tries to will away the heat on his face. He doesn’t say anything, so Sam leaves it be.

The waitress gives them a worried look when she brings the check, eyeing their barely touched plates. They both smile apologetically, insisting that their food was “great” when she whisks it away.

On their way back home, Cas asks if Sam can stop at the store. They don’t ask anything more than, “we need groceries that bad?” and Cas dips inside. He knows this is just like any other grocery run—going in and out as quick as possible with the things they need—yet his heart hammers all the same when he stops in front of the bin near the door. The same employee from last week is working on lane six, and he’s sure to check out at that one with his goods. She gives him a knowing smile.

Cas flops into the passenger seat, a little out of breath.

“That was fast,” Sam starts to say, before noticing Cas’ lack of grocery bags. “Dude. What d’you buy, air?”

Instead, Cas brandishes two brightly colored pins. Sam tentatively takes the yellow, white, purple, and black one, eyes wide.

“For me?” they ask.

Cas smiles, running his thumb over the rainbow one in his hand. 

“For both of us,” he says.

[@spnprideweek]

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Maeve//i don't belong, and my beloved, neither do you

Request: Could you please do something else with Maeve? Perhaps something where reader works with Maeve on an English project and she's surprised that they have so much in common. She realizes she has feelings for her somehow after that? Sorry that's sort of rubbish, have a swell day/night.

hey! what’s up everybody! i hope everyone is well, and i hope you like this!! title is from ‘the lakes’ by taylor swift! 

- English projects are never fun 

- I mean, who finds constant stress and a deadline that’s always far too close fun?

- Nobody

- That’s who

- Well apart from Mrs Jones

- Your year 9 English teacher who made every minute of her classes a living hell

- And who mysteriously went missing half way through the year after having a screaming match with a fellow English teacher

- When she was supposed to be teaching you Romeo & Juliet. 

- One day she was accusing Miss Newman of being a terrible teacher and purposefully bumping up students grades so she looked better 

- And the next day both her and Miss Newman were gone 

- And you only got a replacement teacher when you moved into year 10

- Right now though 

- Its seems Miss Sands is going through some stuff 

- Because not only did she give you an assignment on Friday with a deadline of Monday 

- She also chose your partners instead of letting you choose your own

- Which is why you’re stood outside of Maeve’s in the pouring rain

- On a frankly miserable Saturday morning 

- It seems the weather knew exactly what sort of weekend you were facing 

- And decided to make it even worse. 

- By the third knock 

- You’re about to give up 

- The curtains are still drawn 

- And you’ve seen more movement in a graveyard 

- Plus

- You kind of already assumed you would be doing the project alone 

- Maeve Wiley was known for being very...

- ...independant 

- And group projects are no different 

- You actually think she may be more independent during group projects

- So as soon as Miss Sands paired you together 

- You knew 

- You were 99% sure that 

- You’d do your thing

- She’d do hers 

- And then five minutes before the presentation 

- You would figure out a way to connect the two.

- Anywayyyy

- While daydreaming about a time when you won’t have any assignments 

- And making awkward, accidental eye contact with Maeve’s neighbours 

- The door in front of you opens 

- Simultaneously giving you a fright and almost knocking you out

- She yawns and scratches the top of her head 

- ‘what are you doing here?’ 

- She sounds both tired and annoyed and you blink at her a few times before answering 

- ‘er - i - the project. for english.’ 

- It takes her a few seconds to process what you’ve said 

- But when she does 

- She looks even more miserable than she did five seconds ago

- And you brace yourself for a long weekend 

- She sighs and rolls her eyes 

- Before slowly opening the door properly and letting you in

- You feel slightly nervous as you walk in 

- But you really have no idea why

- It’s not like she’s a complete stranger 

- But then again 

- She’s not exactly a friend 

- ‘don’t worry, i’ve hidden the drugs. i don’t really like to share anyway.’ 

- ‘what?’ you ask confused and she rolls her eyes again 

- She huffs and crosses her arms before nodding to the slightly messy living room

- ‘i get it. we’re a bunch of benefit fraud chavs that do nothing but drink and smoke all day.’ 

- ‘that’s not what i was thinkin-’ 

- ‘sure it wasn’t.’ she rolls her eyes and you stare down at the floor. ‘i need to get changed so make yourself at home I suppose.’ 

- She walks into what you assume is her bedroom and slams the door behind her 

- Leaving you to stand awkwardly in the middle of the living room

- It’s small and slightly cramped 

- And most people would say that all the stuff makes it look busy 

- But to you 

- It’s wonderful 

- It’s filled with stories and memories 

- Some self explanatory 

- Some slightly more bizarre 

- Like the wonky blue and yellow clay swan living on the coffee table 

- You really want to know the story behind it 

- But decide it might be a little early in your partnership to start asking about her attachment to a half swan, half moth looking ornament

- So instead you pick up a pile of books on the dining table and move them onto the floor 

- You can hear Maeve opening and closing drawers while humming a familiar tune 

- And you feel yourself relax slightly as you place your laptop and books where the books were previously sat 

- Even if it does feel like you’re using all of your braincells to try and figure out where you’ve heard it before 

- ‘wow, do you actually trust me around that?’ 

- ‘what?’ you stop humming and look up at her 

- She looks between you and the laptop, staring at you expectantly 

- ‘oh no. i mean of course i do.’ you blush and she shakes her head before sitting opposite you 

- ‘so what do we know about women in fiction?’ 

- ‘historically they are written as either a femme fatalle type or some sort of innocent angelic being.’ 

- ‘they still are’ 

- ‘true’ you agree and flick through your textbook

- ‘why don’t we write about that then?’ 

- ‘what? how we’re still depressingly far back in the equality movement, despite being told otherwise?’ 

- She stares at you for a few seconds 

- A mixture of shock and surprise 

- Before nodding 

- And smiling 

- An actual genuine smile 

- You didn’t even know she could do that 

- Well you did 

- Of course you did 

- But you just haven’t seen it a lot 

- Usually when you see Maeve 

- She’s either mad, grumpy or very, very, very angry

- But her smiling 

- Puts a smile on your face 

- And this was definitely not where you thought this was going 

- ‘yeah...that’ 

- ‘okay.’ you shrug. ‘you can do classic literature because i know you prefer them and i’ll cover modern works.’

- ‘how do you know i prefer classics?’ 

- ‘the pile of books’ you nod towards the floor and she follows your gaze, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. ‘they’re all ripped and folded. you either love them or really, really hate them’ 

- ‘okay’ she eyes you suspiciously as you focus on your laptop 

- And you can feel your cheeks heat up under her gaze 

- However as quickly as they were there 

- They disappear 

- And the two of you fall into a surprisingly comfortable silence. 

- After about half an hour 

- Maeve stops what she’s doing to stretch 

- ‘is it okay if i play some music?’ 

- ‘sure, it’s your place. do what you want...as long as its not awful’ 

- ‘and what constitutes as awful?’ she asks, a smirk playing on her lips

- ‘well’ 

- And with that one question 

- Your entire day disappears in front of you 

- Laptops and books are closed and long forgotten 

- And instead you talk about music and movies 

- Books and plays 

- Characters that you love and hate 

- And the fact that her favourite character is the one you hate the most 

- She makes you lunch while you debate between movies and books and which adaptations are good

- And which ones should never have been made

- And you clean up and apologise profusely after a stray cushion (possibly thrown by you) ends up knocking the pan over 

- Surprisingly 

- She finds it quite funny 

- And you let out a relieved sigh

- Soon the sun goes down on another day 

- And you’ve barely written two paragraphs done between you

- ‘do you want to stay?’ she asks while your putting your jacket on

- If she’d asked you that this morning 

- You would have thought she had lost it 

- But now it feels almost inevitable 

- And you feel genuinely lucky to be asked 

- Not many people get to know Maeve 

- The real her 

- And that last person she told all of this to broke her heart 

- Very publicly 

- And she told herself she would never let herself be that vulnerable with someone ever again

- But this just feels right 

- For some reason you feel right 

- She feels safe with you 

- And part of her hates herself for it 

- But then again 

- She hates herself for not getting to know you sooner

- She feels far too attached to you 

- And it’s barely been twelve hours 

- You of course agree to stay 

- Shocking yourself and her 

- And while she sorts to sofa out 

- You excuse yourself to the bathroom 

- Under the pretences of telling your parents where you are 

- It takes two seconds to text them 

- And the other 28 to ask yourself 

- What the fuck are you doing? 

- Why are you agreeing to this? 

- Why do you feel like this? 

- What are you feeling?

- Who knows?

- Not you 

- Great 

- Now you’ve been in the bathroom for a suspicious amount of time 

- Just get it together, Y/n

- It’s just a study sleepover 

- Maeve gives you a questioning look as you leave 

- ‘you know how mums are. always worrying about where you are and what you’re doing’ 

- ‘i wouldn’t actually’ she shrugs and your eyes widen 

- ‘oh shit, sorry. i’m so sorry. god, i’m an idiot.’

- ‘it’s fine’ she forces a laugh and you wince. ‘i got you an extra duvet and little women is ready to watch so i can show you that the book is better’ 

- ‘that’s not what i said and you know it’ 

- ‘i’m sorry. i can’t hear you over the sound of me being 100% right and you being 100% wrong.’ 

- ‘you may be good at english, but you suck at maths’ 

- The next day you wake up to the sun shining through the curtains 

- And a clump of Maeve’s hair in your mouth 

- You splutter and cough and wake her up quickly 

- And she jumps away from you and smacks her head of the table 

- The two of you ended up moving the blankets to the floor while watching Pride and Prejudice 

- And neither of you bothered to move back 

- Maeve yawns and scratches her head

- Exposing a small part of her stomach and you feel yourself become a little breathless 

- ‘are you okay?’ 

- ‘ye-yeah’ you nod and she eyes you suspiciously 

- ‘whatever’ she shrugs and starts making breakfast 

- You watch as she pours to bowls of cereal

- Giving you the last of the milk 

- And for a second you’re a little worried as to how she knew you liked it 

- But then you remember that she also likes it and you had a whole discussion about the best and worst types of cereal at 2am 

- And half way through breakfast 

- You remember the original reason you’re here 

- And both of you curse loudly 

- Before rushing to finish eating 

-You get half way through your project 

- When Maeve asks if you want to go out for a bit 

- And well 

- She doesn’t need to ask you twice 

- And by the time you come back 

- The feeling you had last night returns 

- And has settled in your stomach 

- For the foreseeable future it seems 

- It makes you feel both light and heavy at the same time 

- And when you look at her 

- You feel dizzy 

- So you rush to finish the project 

- So you can go home and pretend nothing has changed 

- And yeah 

- With the need to leave 

- You get the rest of the assignment done fairly quickly 

- But you end up leaving feeling more confused about Maeve as you did when you started this 

- Maybe Miss Sands was right about a weekend project 

- Any longer and you would have gone insane trying to figure out whatever the hell this is 

- You just have to get through tomorrow and then you’ll be okay 

- Everything will go back to normal 

- You and Maeve can go back to being neutral to each other

- And you won’t have to deal with all of these confusing feelings that have decided to make an appearance for some reason 

- Wellll

- Turns out Miss Sands was wrong 

- A weekend is not enough time 

- And the first few presentations are awful 

- To put it nicely 

- So you spend the next week in a permanent confused state 

- Confused as to why you start looking for Maeve whenever you enter a room

- Confused as to why your heart skips a beat whenever you hear her laugh 

- Confused as to why you never want her stop talking in class 

- Even if the bell has rung and it’s lunch 

- Confused to why you keep looking for excuses to go over to see her 

- Despite your assignment being long done 

- And even more confused as to why you feel anxious when you’re waiting for her to answer the door

- The next Monday rolls around both painfully slowly and far too quickly 

- And while you wait for Ola and Danny to finish their presentation 

- Your hands shake with anxiety while your grip your papers 

- Maeve reaches over the table and gives them a reassuring squeeze 

- But it just makes them shake more and she slowly pulls back 

- Your turn can’t come quick enough 

- But then it’s over far too quickly 

- And you slump back down in your seat disappointed 

- Despite Miss Sands’ praise 

- Because it’s over 

- You no longer have an excuse to hang out with her 

- You never talked before 

- So why do you care about after 

- But there’s so much about her that you want to know

- Like the weird swan/moth hybrid 

- And the ugly plate that sits on top of the bookshelf 

- You want to be part of these stories 

- You want to be able to point to these things and say

- ‘yeah, i know exactly why that is special to you’ 

- You want to be the reason to add to this random collection of stuff 

- You want her to smile when she looks at them because they’ll remind her of you 

- You want her to smile when she looks at you 

- ‘y/n? are you okay?’ she asks making you jump 

- The classroom is now empty and you didn’t even notice the bell go 

- ‘ye-yeah’ you nod and grab your bag

- ‘are you sure?’ she grabs your arm forcing you turn around 

- ‘whats the weird swan thing on your coffee table?’ you ask and she furrows her eyebrows at you. ‘it’s just i saw it when i first came over and i really want to know the story behind it’ 

- ‘oh. aimee went through a pottery phase last year and that was the only thing she made that didn’t have a hole in it.’

- ‘and the plate?’ 

- ‘birthday present from my neighbours’ 

- ‘they got you a plate?’ 

- ‘yeah, they don’t have any kids’ 

- ‘clearly’ 

- Silence fills the room and you stare at the peeling posters behind her head 

- You can feel Maeve move closer to you and your breath hitches when she stops a few centimetres in front of you 

- She grabs your hand and squeezes it again 

- And your heartbeat increases 

- ‘y/n?’ 

- ‘yeah?’ 

- ‘i’m really, really confused right now. like more confused that i have ever been in my life. but what i do know, is that if i watch you walk out of that door without saying anything first, then i’d regret it for the rest of my life. i’ve only ever felt like this about boys before, but now i feel this and more about you and i have no idea where it’s come from or what i need to do, but i do know i need to tell you. because otherwise, it wouldn’t be fair for either of us’ she whispers and you stare at her wide eyed 

- ‘can i kiss you?’ she asks and you nod your head quickly 

- Slowly she leans in

- Her eye flutter closed and you follow 

- Your lips brush over hers 

- Her hands wrap around you waist to pull you close

- And then your lips connect 

- And you feel everything change 

- She kisses you slowly 

- And when you pull away you both feel breathless 

- Her cheeks are bright red 

- And there’s a shy smile playing on her lips as she looks at you bashfully

- And all of a sudden you feel really grateful for Miss Sands and her personal issues 

- Although you really hope they are resolved now 

- For your sake as well as hers

support my writing! if you want! 

[daenqyu]

heather | kaminari denki

— gif isn’t mine !! credits go to @misakachan

pairing: kaminari x fem!reader | platonic!kirishima x fem!reader

genre: LOTS of angst, some comfort(?)

summary: kaminari had been oblivious to your feelings for years now, and at first it was okay, you didn’t mind hiding them. until you noticed the way he looked at her and suddenly, it wasn’t okay anymore.

warnings: swearing

word count: 5.6k

a/n: this is my first time writing and posting for a bnha character so i really hope you guys like it <3 i usually don’t write angst, but i couldn’t stop thinking about this and decided to write it down and i’m very happy with how it turned out.

« i still remember third of december

me in your sweater, you said it looked better

on me, than it did you, only if you knew

how much i liked you »

YOUR whole body trembled thanks to the coldness surrounding you, the snow decorating the floor and trees being a clear sign that winter had already begun in japan. you hugged your arms in a poor attempt to provide yourself some kind of heath, only to be met with the feeling of your cold hands. out of all the days you could’ve forgotten your jacket, it had to be on one of the coldest days of december. profanities fell from your lips as you tried your best to endure the pain until the bus came, but you were sure you would pass out by then. or maybe you were exaggerating.

the bus stop wasn’t that far away from your house, maybe if you ran you could get your jacket and get back on time to catch the bus. you checked your phone to see the time, a groan leaving your lips as you realized that was going to be practically impossible. if you left now, by the time you came back the bus would be long gone. dammit, why do i have to forget everything?

“well well, look who we have here.” your ears perked up as soon as you heard the male’s voice, a small smile making its way to your lips.

kaminari made his way over to you, both hands on his pockets as he returned the smile, making the butterflies in your stomach go crazy. the smile didn't falter until he took note of your current state. his eyes widened with concern and his hands worked fast to take his jacket off.

“denki, what are you doing?” confusion was evident on your face, but that didn’t stop the blonde from wrapping you up in the warm material.

you blushed from the sudden proximity, his face just inches away as he finished zipping up the piece of clothing. it didn’t take long before his cologne filled your nostrils and you basked in the comfort it gave you; it smelled like home. kaminari’s smile returned to his face when he saw your body visibly relax at the newfound heath, even though goosebumps began to form on his skin by the sudden change of temperature. he could handle being cold for a few hours.

“there, now you won’t die of hypothermia.”

“but what about you?”

he shrugged, tilting his head to the side before answering, “it’s fine, it looks better on you anyways.”

you knew he probably meant it in a friendly way, but you couldn’t help the way your heart skipped a beat at the compliment. suddenly you felt all warm inside, and it wasn’t because of the jacket. but rather the effect your best friend had on you.

right.

the smile slowly disappeared from your face, replaced with a hurt expression instead.

that’s all we are.

realization dawned upon you quickly and you scolded yourself for almost believing something so irrational and overall stupid. but as he nudged your arm with his elbow and started talking to you about a new video game that had come out that exact same day, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he did so, you allowed yourself to hold on to that fantasy a little longer. after all, dreaming didn’t hurt anyone right?

and so, you spent the whole ride to school envisioning an universe in which kaminari returned your feelings for him. an universe in which he loved you just as much as you loved him and you didn’t have to worry about anything, because at least you had him. an universe in which you didn’t have to overthink every little thing he did, wondering whether or not he actually meant it or if he was being his usual flirty self. an universe in which you were able to call him yours.

when school ended and you found yourself at the bus station once again, with kaminari next to you, you began to take off the jacket, having it worn all day and deciding it was time to give it back. but kaminari’s hands stopped you, hovering on top of yours, before you could finish unzipping it. you looked at him questioningly, trying your best to ignore the erratic beating of your heart and the electricity you felt right where your hands were touching.

“you can keep it.” his words confused you even more.

“what? no. it’s your jacket, you’ll get cold and besides it’s-”

“oh please don’t act like you don’t love wearing my clothes.” his tone was teasing, yet knowingly eyes scanned your face and you looked away, a hint of blush across your cheeks.

“whatever, but don’t expect to get it back.” kaminari laughed, his hands leaving your own and you had to hold back from taking it and interlacing your fingers together.

as you parted ways, walking in opposite directions to head back to your houses after a long day at school, you hugged yourself for the second time that day. this time, actually being able to feel warm. both inside and out.

—

« but I watch your eyes

as she walks by

what a sight for sore eyes

brighter than the blue sky

she’s got you mesmerized

while I die »

YOU and kaminari told each other everything, well at least most things. so it didn’t surprise you when he started rambling about yet another girl. don’t get me wrong, you loved him to death, but you had to admit that the boy could be quite unlucky with the ladies, much to own your luck that is. but this time was different and you both knew it. you noticed it in the way he smiled whenever he talked about her, how he was able to light up from just hearing her name, and most importantly, the way he looked at her. and you immediately knew. because it was the same way you looked at him.

she was your classmate and friend, and you could totally understand why kaminari was so smitten with her. she was funny, smart, caring, beautiful; in other words everything you weren’t. and while it’s true you knew it was bad to be envious of people, specially your friends, you simply couldn’t not wish to be her. i mean come on, not only did she have an awesome quirk you had no chance of competing against, she also had the boy you loved wrapped around her finger and she wasn’t even aware of it.

“and then when he was about to- denki, are you even listening?” he wasn’t, but you didn’t want to admit that.

“hm? oh sorry! what were you saying?” his pretty amber eyes looked at you for only a split second, before going back to admire the dark purpled haired girl.

jirou stood a few feet away from you guys, talking and laughing with sero and mina. you could feel your heart slowly breaking as you saw kaminari’s lips curl into a small smile when she briefly looked at him, waving at him in the process. and of course you didn’t miss the way she blushed.

“ah it’s nothing important anyways.”

“hey y/n, do you think i should ask jirou out?”

oh.

you were pretty certain you stopped breathing once your brain registered his words. how could he be so oblivious?! you had been friends since fucking middle school and you were supposed to believe that he never once noticed how hopelessly in love you were with him? did you not show it enough? were you that bad at displaying your love for people? or was he just ridiculously dumb? you desperately hoped it was the latter, because deep down a part of you still believed that there was a possibility for you two. that an us could be possible if you just showed him how serious you were about him.

but the rational part of you was screaming at you to stop being so damn stupid, to finally open your eyes and realize kaminari didn’t and would never reciprocate your feelings. that you were hoping for the impossible to happen, that you were preparing yourself for absolute heartbreak if you thought for a second he would choose you over her. and while you wanted nothing more than to yell at him for being so dense, for not seeing that you were right there, you simply couldn’t. so you went with the safer option.

“y-yeah, you should. i’m sure she’ll say yes.” you were able to muster a smile, and despite the lump in your throat, you feel happiness surge through you as he turns around and gives you a big smile.

“you think so? but what if she says no?”

“any girl would be lucky to have you, denki. you’re sweet, cool, and funny. what more could a girl ask for?” you were only half joking, but of course he didn’t notice.

“well if you say it like that it just sounds like you have a crush on me.” he winked at you and you swore you were about to pass out. not only because of the wink, but because of his sudden implication. (which was a fact)

“you wish,” you snort to make it seem more real, and it seems to work because kaminari’s now pouting at you. “now go get em’ tiger.”

“please don’t say that again.”

“wow okay, cold.”

he stood up, taking a deep breath before walking over to jirou, starting off with a joke as he leaned down on her desk and, as much as she tried to stifle it, a loud laugh escaped her. apparently kaminari’s charm didn’t only work on you. but oh how you wished it did because that way you would be the one getting asked out right now, not her. quite frankly, you would give anything to have him look at you the way he was looking at her right now, as if she was some mystical creature. or better yet, as if he was under some kind of love spell that made him unable to look at anyone else like that.

from the other corner of the classroom, a certain red haired guy looked at you with pity in his eyes, but also concern. he made his way to you, sitting down in kaminari’s previous spot. you sent him a, clearly fake, smile when you noticed it was none other than kirishima, one of your best friends. but he saw right through that.

“hey,” his voice was soft and low, he didn’t exactly want the whole class to know about what was going on. “are you okay?”

you gulped, but still nodded. “of course, why wouldn’t i be?” another fake smile.

“don’t give me that bullshit y/n. you don’t need to lie to me.” that was all you needed to hear before dropping the act, your smile quickly being replaced with a frown and kirishima’s heart hurt for you.

“this sucks,” you say under your breath, looking away towards their direction only to see kaminari playing with one of jirou’s earphone jacks, which obviously made the pain in your chest worsen. “i just want him to look at me the same way he looks at her,” tears began to sting at the corners of your eyes. “is that too much to ask for?” you asked no one in particular as you looked up to kirishima.

“it’s not, but you’ll be okay,” without thinking it twice, he hugged you and you didn’t fight back, instead welcoming the warmth his chest provided you and resting your head against one of his shoulders. “you know he doesn’t know y/n, if he did i’m sure things would be different.”

“i know, but it’s fine. i just want him to be happy.”

even if it’s not with me.

but you don’t say that, preferring to just stay on kirishima’s arms a little longer while trying to ignore the two love birds giggling behind you, your heart breaking more and more each time you heard kaminari’s sweet words. because they weren’t for you, they were for her.

—

« why would you ever kiss me?

i’m not even half as pretty

you gave her your sweater

it’s just polyester

but you like her better

wish i were heather »

HIDING your emotions was something you mastered pretty well by now. you spent years keeping your feelings for kaminari to yourself and you didn’t mind at all; you had come to terms with the fact that this crush was probably one sided a long time ago. so, why did you suddenly felt the need to tell him? it never bothered you, but now, after having to see him every day making heart eyes at her and hear him talk about how cool she was, you thought maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. you just wanted him to have the option; he deserved to know right? or maybe you were just hoping that he would choose you over her. just like you would choose him over anyone in a heartbeat.

but to be honest, you didn’t know what you would do with yourself if he didn’t. if he chose her over you while knowing you loved him too. what if she meant more to him than you did? what if he thought you were outright weird and things became awkward? what if your friendship wasn’t as special as you thought it was? you shook your head, hands coming up to your temples to try and get rid of some of the tension. no, that couldn’t be. you knew he loved you...at least as a friend.

it had been 2 months already since kaminari and jirou started talking. they weren’t oficial yet, but you accidentally overheard her conversation with yaoyorozu a few days ago and heard her complaining about how she wished he finally made a move on her. that somehow relieved you because at least they hadn’t gotten physical yet, but at the same time you wondered if you were being a bad friend by thinking that. maybe you were, but you couldn’t help it. i mean you liked the boy for fucks sake, it was understandable that you weren’t exactly hoping for them to pounce on each other.

“where’s denki?” kirishima asked as he caught up with you in the hallway, both of you making your way to the new dorms.

“don’t know, he left before i could even ask him.” you tried your best to sound neutral, but you knew you didn’t do a good job when you heard kirishima sighing. however, much to your liking, he stayed quiet and didn’t say anything about it, changing the topic to today’s events.

you were grateful to have him; he was the only one who knew about your crush on kaminari and the only one who was able to take your mind off things even for just a little while. soon enough you found yourself laughing by his side as he talked about bakugou’s weird antics and how hot-headed he could be at times, which you had experienced firsthand.

“he was all like ‘hey shitty hair, if you’re not gonna do a good work then fuck off!’ like man calm down, i didn’t even do anything.” you giggled at his accurate impersonation of the angry blonde. shaking your head as you looked up, noticing you were already at the dorms building.

you squinted your eyes when you saw two people standing right in front of the main entrance, but couldn’t make out their faces thanks to the long distance. yet the closer you got, the better you could see them. and once your eyes focused on the couple completely, everything stopped.

it was them.

they were kissing.

right in front of you.

his arms were wrapped around her waist, holding her close to him as if he never wanted to let her go, and her own were wrapped around his neck, caressing his soft blonde hair which you loved to ruffle whenever he laid down on your lap.

they looked so beautiful, straight out of a cheesy romcom movie. the sun was beginning to set and its rays reflected on their skin perfectly, making them look golden. and in that precise moment you realized just how beautiful jirou was and how much she complimented kaminari in every sense of the word. could it be that they were made for each other?

before you knew it, a single tear rolled down your cheek, and you weakly smiled at kirishima when he opened his mouth to try and comfort you, yet no words seemed to come out. because he knew that no matter what he said, the damage was already done. the couple hadn’t even noticed you two, too immersed in their own little world as they giggled and made their way inside, all while holding each other’s hands.

“they make a good couple, don’t they?” you fixed your eyes on your shoes, holding back the sobs that desperately wanted to escape you.

“y/n…” kirishima’s tone was sad, mostly because he didn’t know what to do, but also because he understood perfectly the pain you were going through. he had been experiencing it for a while now.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, kiri.” you sent him another smile, but right when you started walking towards the entrance he managed to see the tears falling down your cheeks as you bit down on your lower lip.

and somehow, that kiss proved to you that you could never beat her, that she had won over kaminari’s heart. something you could never do.

—

« watch as she stands with her holding your hand

put your arm 'round her shoulder, 

now I'm getting colder

but how could I hate her? 

she’s such an angel

but then again, kinda wish she were dead »

PEOPLE often say one’s happiness shouldn’t relay on others and you had always been a firm believer of that, knowing that people were unpredictable and that they could change at any moment given. so it was only reasonable that you made yourself happy, without needing to depend on other people, yet that didn’t really add up with your current situation. it made you look like a hypocrite.

ever since jirou and kaminari started dating, you had been spending less and less time together. the only time you could have him all to yourself was when you occasionally paired up during training and even then you didn’t really talk much. you were happy everything had worked out for them, and you loved to see kaminari happy, but it hurt you. it hurt so much, to the point that sometimes it was hard to get out of bed. 

you missed your best friend. and you knew it was selfish, but did it even matter at this point? did he he notice how you talked less and less? how you barely smiled anymore? of course he didn’t. he was too busy looking at her anyways, too busy going on dates and learning how to play the guitar just for her. his girlfriend. 

and as much as you wanted to hate them both, you didn’t have it in you. why would you? because they were happy and in love? you weren’t that desperate. but sometimes, as you watched her throw her head back while she laughed at something kaminari said, you wished he had never met her. you wished you never came to UA in the first place, that way they wouldn’t have met and you would probably still have your best friend by your side. no. even if he hadn’t met her, you knew he would never go for a girl like you.

these past few months had been hell for you, you barely left your room unless it was for school, your eating habits couldn’t have gotten any worse, and you weren’t getting any sleep, too busy crying your eyes out as you wondered what the hell you did wrong. and you knew what you were doing wasn’t healthy, but a part of you wished that something really bad happened to you just so kaminari would pay attention to you again. but he didn’t.

today was one of those days, you didn’t feel like getting up your bed just to watch a dumb movie with your classmates, and possible have to witness jirou and kaminari being all lovey dovey right in front of you. the thought alone was enough to make you roll your eyes, scoffing at how much the pair loved PDA. 

“come on y/n! it’ll be so fun.” kirishima was currently trying to convince you to go watch a movie with the rest of class 1-A in the common room, but as expected you denied his invitation. “even bakugou is going!” 

“then you’ll be more than fine without me.” 

“i’ll miss you tho.” he gave you puppy eyes and you groaned, placing your pillow over your face.

“since when are you so cheesy?”

“stop trying to change the subject,” a frustrated sigh left his lips, and you lowered your pillow to look at him. he was sitting down on the floor with his legs crossed, a frown evident on his face. “i know you don’t wanna talk about it, but you can’t keep on like this y/n.” you flinched slightly at his serious tone.

“i know,” this time it was you who sighed, weighing your options in your head. you knew kirishima was right and he was trying his best to make you feel better, so the least you could do was make him some company. “okay fine,” his head turned in your direction, looking at you hopefully. “i’ll go, but it better be a good movie.” 

“yes! you won’t regret it, i promise. and if at some point you wanna leave, then we’ll leave, but you have to at least try.” your heart swelled at his consideration; he was too sweet to you and you didn’t deserve it at all.

“you don’t have to do that, kiri.”

“but i want to. i know it’s not easy, so i’m proud of you for doing this.” his words made a lump appear in your throat. maybe you were being overly sensitive, but hearing him say that meant a lot.

it wasn’t long before the clock striked 9PM and everyone started making their way to the common room, chatting happily as they sat down and got everything ready for the night. you watched as people started to take a seat, whether it was on the couches or on the floor, and you started to get a bit anxious when you noticed kaminari walking down the stairs, but jirou was nowhere to be seen. thankfully.

as much as you tried to not let him have an effect on you, your heart still skipped a beat whenever you saw him. it was truly inevitable, but what you hated the most was knowing you had no effect on him whatsoever. 

before you could look away and hide from his view, kaminari spotted you. he sent you a big smile, waving his hand before walking over to where you stood. ok, calm down act normal. it’s just denki. you tried to calm yourself down, but your breath hitched in your throat when you suddenly felt his arms engulf you in a tight hug, your arms slowly coming up to his neck to return the gesture. you would be lying if you said you hadn’t miss this feeling. the feeling of being home again. 

but it ended way too fast for your liking.

“hey you! we haven’t hung out in a while, i miss you.” 

because you’re too busy with your girlfriend, asshole. 

“yeah sorry about that, i’ve been kinda busy i guess.” your tone was off and he noticed, but he brushed it off. maybe she’s tired.

“then what are you doing tomorrow? we can go to the mall or wherever you want to.” your head quickly shot up, looking at him with nothing but hope in your eyes.

“really?”

“of course! we need to have some bestie time.” the wink he sent you was playful, but your lips still curved into a smile from hearing him saying he wanted to spend time with you.

“then maybe we can go to this new-”

“hey babe i saved you a seat,” out of the blue, jirou appeared right next to kaminari, slipping her hand into his. and your heart clenched when you noticed he held it back tightly. “oh, hi y/n!” she sent you a warm, genuine smile, and you felt so bad for wanting her to feel your pain. 

“hi jirou.” 

“i was just telling y/n about how we should hang out.” you frowned at him, is he inviting her? 

“oh? where did you plan on going?” 

“i told her she should pick.”

“well that sounds even more fun, any ideas?”

“actually i just remembered i got some homework to finish.” it was a lie, but you didn’t have it in you to third wheel on what was supposed to be a date with your best friend.

“what?” kaminari asked you, not understanding you sudden change in attitude.

“yeah, maybe next time tho.” he wanted to ask what was wrong, but as he opened his mouth to do so, you saw kirishima walking towards the common room with bakugou and took that as your cue to leave the awkward encounter. 

“well that was weird.” he mumbled to himself and jirou looked at him questioningly, wondering what he meant.

“hm? what was that babe?” the blonde shook his head, convincing himself he was probably overthinking things. he placed his arm around his girlfriend’s shoulder before walking over to one of the couches. to be more precise, the couch in front of yours. 

you sat beside kirishima, your leg bouncing up and down anxiously as you waited for iida to finally play the goddamn movie so you had something else to pay attention to instead of them. kirishima quickly noticed the unusual movement and was about to ask you what was wrong, but once he saw where your gaze was locked on, it didn’t take him long to put two and two together. 

he knew better than to ask you in front of everyone if you were okay, so he just gave your knee a light squeeze, which you highly appreciated and let him know so by smiling at him. after a few minutes that felt like eternity, iida played the movie and told everyone to not make any unnecessary noises and be considerate of your classmates which made you scoff slightly. 

twenty minutes into the movie and everything was going great so far. you had actually managed to get immersed in the plot and found yourself leaning your head against kirishima’s shoulder to get a better view, but also because the effect of not having a stable sleeping schedule was dawning on you. however, just when you thought you were about to fall asleep on your friend’s comfortable shoulder, you heard some giggles. you opened your eyes slowly, frowning when you saw kaminari leaving small kisses on jirou’s neck. your heart felt like it was being stabbed for the hundredth time and you tried to ignore them and just focus on the tv screen. you really tried to remain calm, to keep up your act just as you had done all this months, but you lost it when you heard those three damn words leave his lips.

“i love you.”

it was low, barely even audible, but you heard it. you heard it loud and clear. and just like that, with your heart losing every last bit of hope it had, you stood up from your seat abruptly, making everyone look at you, before making your way upstairs without saying another word. all of your classmates looked between them, not only confused, but also concerned. 

“oi shitty hair,” bakugou spoke from his place next to kirishima, who looked at him with an eyebrow raised. “go check up on her.” he muttered and kirishima only nodded before walking upstairs to follow you.

bakugou’s words worried kaminari even more, was there something going on with you that he didn’t know about? was that why you were acting so weird earlier? no way, you told him everything. you were best friends after all...right? and with that question on his mind, he couldn’t focus on the movie or his girlfriend anymore.

you walked towards your room silently, even though you wanted nothing more than to scream and fight someone. you wanted, no, needed to let all of your pent up frustration out. you had been patient enough, putting his happiness before your own for years now, and while you knew it wasn’t his fault at all, you wanted to be mad at him about something. you wanted him to understand that this wasn’t fair, that you could be good for him if he gave you the chance, that you wouldn’t be a waste of his time, but the only thing that was coming out of you were tears.

angry tears stained your face as they furiously ran down your cheeks, reminding you of all the sleepless nights you spent alone, crying your heart out to no one but yourself. you stood in front of your room, hand reaching out to the door’s knob to open it and spend yet another night wondering why the hell you weren’t enough. but a hand stopped you.

kirishima’s grip on your forearm was gentle, but firm enough to let you know he wasn’t going anywhere, and somehow, his touch made you want to cry even more. you tried to push him away, telling him that you were perfectly fine, yet your bloodshot eyes told a whole different story. and as much as you kicked and screamed, kirishima knew the last thing you needed was to be alone.

“let go!” seeing that holding your arms had no effect on you whatsoever, he tried a different approach. his strong arms hugged you to his chest, and, as much as you wanted to deny it, you found comfort in them. “i said let me go, kirishima.” 

“no. y/n listen to me. you need to stop bottling all your feelings up, nothing good will come out of that,” you finally started to relax, breathing heavily as you listened to his words. “it doesn’t matter if you talk, cry, or scream, but you need to voice out how you feel. if it’s not to him, then tell me. i’m always ready to listen.” his voice was so gentle, so soft, yet it held so much emotion and honesty. 

more tears fell down your cheeks as you gripped kirishima’s shirt tightly against your fingers, your face hiding comfortably on his chest. 

“i can’t take this anymore kiri,” you started talking and kirishima was quick to hug you a little tighter, one of his hands rubbing small circles on the small of your back. “i miss him so much, i miss my best friend. and i want him to be happy, i really do, but why must his happiness cause me so much pain?” a sob racked through your whole body after hearing yourself say those words, the ones you never thought you’d voice out to someone. “at first it was fine and i didn’t mind that much, but now? we barely even talk anymore, and when we do it’s always small talk. and we used to talk for hours about everything and anything, we would never get bored when we were together. now it’s like i don’t even exist to him except for when he seems to have some time to spare. did our friendship meant shit to him? because fuck i wasted years of my life loving someone who can’t even notice how much i’ve been struggling.” 

by this point your tears had stained kirishima’s shirt almost completely, but he couldn’t give less of a fuck about that. all that mattered was you and only you. the only thought on his mind was how he was gonna make you feel better. so he held you in his arms a little longer, hoping that somehow his actions could express everything he felt. his free hand came up to caress your hair while he shushed you softly, rocking you two back and forth. 

that’s how the night ended. 

you, with your heart broken in a million pieces, longing for the person who made you feel this way. because you knew you would always love him, maybe even more than you loved yourself. you knew that no matter how much you tried to hate him, you could never even get close to feeling anything but pure adoration for the boy. and if having him in your life implied having to handle all this heartache and hurt, then maybe you could endure it. because for him it was all worth it. 

and a certain redhead with all his feelings caught in his throat. he wanted nothing more than to scream at you for not noticing he understood completely how you felt, way more than you imagined, yet he knew that you would always only have eyes for him. but perhaps that was okay. if the only way to be close to you was comforting you because you loved a guy who was too dense to see what he had in front of him, then so be it. in the end it was all worth it for you.

[ptergwen]

the best gifts are unexpected

w/c: 1.6k

summary: you sort of end up with two secret santa’s this year

a/n: this is another random idea i had that i actually really love? plus it’s a christmas one and christmas is this week which is insane wow :/ happy reading y’all

━━━ ☆彡*. ｡

“ok, who wants to go first?” betty asks the group and shakes her present around.

everyone agreed to do secret santa at your mini christmas party. it was ned’s idea, which is why you’re all in a circle on his living room carpet with mystery boxes in front of you. you picked names out of a beanie mj was wearing so it would be fair. all you know is that you’re peter’s secret santa. the rest surprisingly stayed secret.

it’s a surprise because some people in the group are terrible at keeping things to themselves.

flash holds his gift bag up in the air before anyone else can answer. “me!” he quickly pulls the wrapped box out and starts ripping the paper off. betty watches on with a proud smile. she tries to cover her mouth, but you already saw. that crosses one pairing off the list. flash gasps when he sees what it is.

she got him a spider-man pop figure. it’s one of his newest suits, too. peter will definitely be blushing if you look over at him right now.

“this is so sick! he’s gonna go under my pillow.” flash grins and taps the clear spot that shows him. “why, so you can say you slept with spider-man?” mj snorts at her own joke. she’s next to you, so you elbow her side. she winces and shoots you a glare. peter smiles to himself.

“no, so he can keep me safe at night,” flash says a little too seriously. the circle goes quiet for long enough to be awkward. he puts the box behind him with an eye roll. “whatever. who had me?” betty raises her hand, beaming at her success. flash nods. “nice. thanks.” “you’re very welcome,” she says in a sing song voice.

you can feel someone’s eyes on you. you turn your head, and it happens to be peter’s. he shifts his attention back to ned the second you make eye contact. that’s odd. then again, peter is always odd.

next is ned since you’re going in order. he’s excited to open up the cardboard box until he realizes there’s nothing in it. his face scrunches in confusion. he ends up picks something up and squinting at it.

“it’s a... piece of paper?” he eyes everyone suspiciously. “turn it over, buddy,” mj says under her breath. ned hears her and does. grinning, he holds the paper to his heart. “no way! this is, like, all i ever need!” “what is it?” you furrow your eyebrows with a small smile.

“a subscription to disney plus!” you direct your smile to mj. you’re impressed. she shrugs and pulls a knee up to her chest. “dude, they have so much star wars stuff on there,” peter chimes in. ned gives his best friend a knowing look. “can you sleep over?” “nerds,” mj mumbles to you. “let them have their moment,” you defend.

betty goes after ned. she’s probably the happiest of all of you to open her gift. she texted everyone her wishlist at least three times, so it has to be something good. based on the way she squeals, it is. it’s this new eyeshadow palette from sephora she’s been wanting.

“oh my god, shut up! i love it!” she carefully puts it down and bounces up on her knees. “whoever got me this, i have to give you a hug.” peter is the one who opens up his arms. she scoots over to him on her knees, practically tackling him. he chuckles and hugs her back. “thank you so much, peter!” “of course.”

you try to laugh along with everyone else, but something stops you. it’s a green monster, and not the grinch. you’re jealous. mj just has to pick up on it. she pats your back, a smirk pulling at her lips. “relax, mrs. parker. it’s nothing.” scowling, you scoot away from her. “don’t call me that.”

“your turn, y/n,” betty chirps, sitting back down next to you. you unenthusiastically sit your heavy present in your lap. everyone watches you slowly peel the wrapping paper off, mj fake yawning. “take your time,” flash comments. “guys, come on,” peter says for you.

you perk up when your gift is finally open. you’d always thought it would be cool to have a record player. no one ever got you one before because you “didn’t need it.” apparently, the music sounds the same as it would in your earbuds. you can actually find out if that’s true now.

plus, you have something else to do during break. lots of record shopping.

“wait, seriously?” you pout at the group and set the record player down in front of you. “i’ve wanted one of these for so long. thank you.” “i got you.” ned smiles and reaches over betty to give you a fist bump. mj goes next.

she gets a book that goes inside the criminal mind from flash. he says his search history probably got him on a few watchlists.

peter is last to open his present from you. you’ve been anxious for him to open it since you added it to your cart. anxious in a good way because you’re positive he’ll like it. he’ll hopefully like you also.

he already knows you’re his secret santa since the rest of the group went. mj scoots back so you can see him while he opens it. you catch a wink from her. peter grins at the bow you put on it and sticks it on his shirt for now. you watch his whole face light up as he finishes unwrapping it.

he’s kind of amazing at photography. he takes it as an elective and practices whenever he has time. you’ve even done little photoshoots on his phone for fun. midtown lets him use a camera with pretty good quality and all the important functions. but, peter’s style is more vintage.

that’s why you got him a polaroid camera. some film for it, too.

“woah, y/n.” peter looks from the box to you. “this is so awesome. it’s a lot cooler than anything i have,” he breathes out a laugh, licking his lips. “i think it’s... my favorite present.” “ever?” you laugh. “ever,” he confirms, reaching for your hand. your heart is thumping in your ears. he squeezes your hand in his. it earns an “aw” from ned and betty in unison.

“thank you isn’t even enough. you have no idea,” peter says for only you to hear. you squeeze his hand back with a small smile. “yes it is. take some good pictures for me.” “i will,” he agrees after a few seconds. something is on his mind. mj moves up again before you can ask what it is, which also makes you drop his hand.

“dessert time,” she announces and rubs her hands together. she’s oblivious to the look of disappointment on your face. flash points at her. “someone get those sugar cookies.” “i’ll go,” ned volunteers, about to stand. peter shoots up from his spot instead. “no, i can do it. you pick a movie to watch later.”

he nudges your shoulder. “y/n, could you help me?” ned makes a face at him. “you know, we need plates and everything,” peter quickly covers up. it’s a good enough explanation for him to focus on logging into disney plus. you take the hint and get to your feet. “yeah, let’s go.”

you follow peter into the kitchen, everyone else giving ned movie suggestions. peter checks behind him to make sure no one is looking. he relaxes after that and leans back against the counter. you stand next to him, closer than usual. he’s not mad about that.

“i feel like we’ve barely talked all night,” peter murmurs and stares down at his feet. you press your lips together. “that’s cuz we haven’t.” “let’s fix that.” he taps your foot with his playfully, getting a laugh out of you. “hey.” “hi,” you say back. “thanks again for the camera. i can’t wait to set it up.” the smile is clear in his voice.

“i’m really happy you like it. i thought you would,” you admit, leaning into him slightly. he welcomes it. “i, uh, actually got a little something for you,” he starts and reaches behind him. your heart is beating out of control again. so is his, but you don’t know that. “aw, peter. you did?”

“it’s... it’s kinda stupid. i’m not sure you even want it-“ “i’ll take anything if it’s from you,” you cut off the rambling he’s about to do. he nods and pulls whatever it is out of his pocket. it goes from behind his back to over your heads. you look up and see mistletoe.

peter moves so he’s in front of you. his face is only inches from yours now, your eyes landing on his lips. he takes the same hand he was holding earlier, lacing your fingers together. “can i kiss you?” he checks, his voice soft. you wind an arm around his neck. “please.”

he presses his lips to yours so lightly, your eyes fluttering shut. it’s so sweet and so long overdue. you tug him closer so the kiss deepens. leaning his head forward, he drops the mistletoe and wraps his other arm around your waist. you’re back against the counter with him hovering over you.

your lips move easily against each other’s like it’s natural for you.

“peter and y/n, what’s taking so-“ mj turns her head and sees you two kissing. “oh, okay!” she cheers, betty glancing curiously. “get it, y/n!” ned and flash join in next. they all holler at you while you kiss. it becomes too funny, and you have to pull away so you can both laugh.

giggling, you bring one of your hands down to the bow peter left on his shirt. you pull on it. “i think you’re my favorite present.” “ever?” he repeats what you said earlier and nudges your nose. his lips brush yours in the process. “ever.”

[fruitcoops]

Hi!! So I was listening to paper rings by Taylor Swift today and the lyric 'I like shiny things but I'd marry you with paper rings' made me think of coops and o'knutzy. Could you write a prompt about this?! <3

This song is so perfect for Coops and it’s the best way to start of the long-awaited wedding series! Yay! Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!

Combined with:

1. Domestic Coops

2. Remus making fun of Sirius’ initials

3. Sirius trying to make Remus moan while he’s on the phone with his folks

4. From @colored-rain: Taking Hattie to the vet

TW for mild smutty content, taking a pet to the vet, and the inherent stress of wedding planning

I: Six Weeks Before the Wedding

“Where are we even going to do this?” Sirius asked, running a hand through his hair.

Remus shook his head silently, pressing his forehead into the wooden edge of the table. “What if we elope?”

“Celeste would skin us both.”

“True. Oh, god, my dad would cry if we did that.” Remus slid down in his seat and stared up with sad eyes. “Can’t we just be married already?”

“I could get tinfoil from the kitchen and just…” Sirius mimed wrapping it around his ring finger and Remus snorted.

“Baby, I would marry you with paper rings, but I think we want them to last.”

“You like shiny things!”

“I do, that doesn’t mean I want tinfoil on my hand for the rest of my life,” Remus laughed, pulling him in for a quick kiss. “Alright, let’s go through our list again. We agreed on small, right?”

“Just the team and families. We still want it to be outside?”

“Yep.” Remus checked off two boxes on the piece of paper they had been grappling with for the past four days. “Rings have already been ordered?”

“I’m doing that this afternoon. What kind of cake do we want?”

“Uhhh…an edible one?” Remus shrugged. “I don’t have a huge preference. Chocolate is really good but all the ones from the store are spongy.”

“Wow, an edible cake, so original,” Sirius teased. “We can ask Celeste what she thinks.”

“Good plan.” He paused for a moment. “Where outside will we do it? We need an actual venue. I think people would be upset if we just had a wedding in a public park.”

“The media would be all over it, too.” Sirius scrunched his nose up in thought just as their timer went off and both sighed as they headed for the door. “It’s going to be hard to focus on practice when we know next to nothing about the wedding we’ve been planning for over six months.”

“We’re disasters.”

II: Four Weeks Before the Wedding

“We’re not putting that on the cards.”

“Why not?” Sirius frowned and looked down at the mock-up invitation. “It’s our initials. It’s cute.”

Remus blinked at him. “Sirius. Your initials.”

“Do you not want my initials on our joint wedding invitation?”

“I would love to have your initials on our joint wedding invitation, except for the part where it’s the same acronym as ‘son of a bitch’.”

Sirius paused, then groaned and put his hands over his face. “Fuck, I forgot about that.”

“You forgot your own initials?”

“I forgot the son of a bitch thing!”

“Okay, I clearly don’t tease you enough for that,” Remus snickered, wrapping an arm around his waist to kiss his cheek. “Alright, attempt number eight is a bust.”

III: Three Weeks Before the Wedding

Sirius ran his fingers gently through Remus’ hair, feeling him shift in the darkness. “What’s on your mind, mon amour?”

“Are we changing our last names?”

“Did we…not discuss that?” Sirius wracked his brain, but it was so exhausted from wedding topics that he came up empty.

“I don’t think so.” Remus scooted around so he was on his side, facing Sirius. “Both our names are super connected to our jobs. Plus, Lupin-Black might be a little long for jerseys.”

“I’d rather not go through the whole name-change process.” There was a beat of quiet. “Though I do like the sound of Sirius Lupin.”

Remus’ breath audibly caught and he leaned closer to Sirius, nuzzling against his shoulder. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

IV: Eighteen Days Before the Wedding

Remus’ back hit the mattress with a soft bounce that was quickly stilled by Sirius’ weight pressing him down by the hips, his mouth skimming along all the right places on Remus’ neck. “Yes,” he hissed as Sirius ground down, their bare chests bumping together. He dipped his hands beneath the waistband of Sirius’ sweats and he shivered, nipping the hinge of his jaw.

“Wait,” Sirius gasped, pulling back to straddle Remus’ waist.

“What? Is this a flamingo moment?” Remus panted, still buzzing with arousal.

“Did we invite your parents to the wedding?”

Remus stared at him in disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

“I don’t think we did.”

“Sirius, you are literally about to—holy fuck, did we invite my parents?”

“I don’t know!”

Remus groaned and let his head fall back against the pillows before tapping Sirius’ hip and swinging his legs over the edge of the mattress. He grabbed his phone off the nightstand and dialed his mother’s number, taking a few deep breaths to collect himself as it rang.

“Hello?”

“Hey, mom, how’s it going?”

“Oh, it’s going fine out here. How’s wedding planning?” Hope asked. Remus could hear her smiling.

“That’s what I’m calling about, actually. Did you—” He bit his lip as Sirius’ fingertips trailed up his thigh. “Uh, did you get an invitation?”

Hope was silent for a moment, save for a few rustling sounds. “Now that you mention it, I don’t think so. Lyall! Honey, did Re send us a wedding invitation?” There was a low humming noise as his father responded. “He says we didn’t get one.”

Remus winced. “Sorry about that. I can text you the details, if you want.”

“Will you mail one as well? I want to put it in our memory box.”

Sirius’ hand slid further along Remus’ leg, growing closer to his inner thigh by the second and doing nothing to quell his frayed nerves. “Yeah—yeah, mom, we totally can.”

“Are you alright? You sound a bit out of breath.”

“Hattie was running around and being a little crazy.” Remus covered the speaker with his hand and turned to glare at Sirius, who grinned and kissed his cheekbone.

“Okay,” Hope sounded skeptical. “So you’re not getting sick or anything?”

“Nope. Healthy as a horse.” The last word came out a little breathless as Sirius licked a stripe up his neck and bit down on the junction to his shoulder, making Remus’ eyes flutter closed. He smacked Sirius’ hand halfheartedly and felt him grin.

“How’s Sirius doing?”

“Fine, he’s fine. We’re a little stressed with the wedding planning and everything, but things are good here.” Really good, he thought as the heel of Sirius’ hand pressed down just next to his dick. He swallowed down a moan and squeezed his eyes shut. “Alright, I’ll text the details to you this afternoon love you mom bye.”

“Love you t—”

A millisecond after the call ended, Remus slammed his phone into the nightstand and pushed Sirius into the sheets, bracketing his face with his elbows. “What the fuck was that?”

“I’m just keeping things interesting.” Sirius tugged his lower lip between his teeth and smirked, which really left Remus with only one option: kissing him senseless until he couldn’t even remember his own name.

V: Three Days Before the Wedding

Sirius’ leg bounced up and down nervously and he gripped Remus’ hand as they waited in the lobby of the vet’s office. “She’ll be okay.” His voice was noticeably higher than usual and he cleared his throat. “She’ll be fine. It’s just a cough.” A cough that’s been going on for four and a half days.

Remus hummed his agreement, though he hadn’t stopped twisting Hattie’s leash in his hands since they arrived. “Just a cough. Probably a cold, or—or something like that.”

The doors ahead opened and both of them stood as Hattie trotted out next to the vet tech, who looked rather amused. “What’s wrong with her?” Sirius asked, scanning her for any signs of illness. “Is she alright?”

“She is a very talented actress,” the vet said, rubbing Hattie behind the ears. She whined pitifully and cuddled into Sirius’ side. “Have you two been busy lately?”

“We’re planning for our wedding.” Remus looked as confused as Sirius felt. “Why?”

“Because Miss Hattie here is one of the healthiest, snuggliest dogs I’ve ever seen.”

“But she was coughing.”

“She was faking.” The vet knelt next to her and petted down her back, raising an eyebrow. “Weren’t you, munchkin?”

“Hattie!” Sirius exclaimed, torn between relief and shock. “You little monster!”

Remus frowned and tapped her forehead lightly as he slid her leash on over her head. “We were so worried about you! Why would you do that?”

“She’s probably been sulking because you’re busy with wedding stuff,” the vet said with a smile. “Quite the drama queen you’ve got there.”

“Tell me about it,” Sirius huffed as he kissed her head. “Don’t ever do that again, young lady. You’re in big trouble when we get home.”

“Thank you for your help,” Remus said, shaking the vet’s hand. “We really appreciate it and we’re so sorry for wasting your time.”

“Are you kidding? She was the best part of my day,” he laughed. “All the other techs can’t stop talking about Hattie cuddles now. Have a good one, you three.”

+1: The Lions, the Media, and the Locker Room

Word spread like wildfire in media circles, and the rumor mill had never worked harder once news of the Black-Lupin wedding came out.

Naturally, the Lions decided to have a little fun with it.

“Pots! Pots, what can you tell us about Black and Lupin’s wedding?” Four different microphones were shoved into his personal space, but James put on his best confused face.

“What wedding?”

A wave of murmuring spread through the reporters. “So you weren’t invited to Sirius Black and Remus Lupin’s wedding?”

“There’s a wedding?”

Across the room, two other interviewers mobbed Thomas Walker in his stall. “Talker, do you know anything about Black and Lupin’s wedding?”

“Who?” he asked with a perfect act of innocence.

“Sirius Black and Remus Lupin.”

He bit his lip. “I don’t think I know them, sorry. Are they fans?”

“Talkie!” Remus tossed him a towel from the adjacent stall, and he caught it with a grin.

“Heads up, Loops!” Talker threw it right back and headed toward the ice baths with a wink to the cameras. “Good chat, guys.”

One of the interviewers muttered under their breath and hurried over to Pascal, who was still unlacing his skates. “Dumo, when is the wedding between Sirius Black and Remus Lupin?”

Dumo frowned. “Quoi?”

“The wedding. You were invited, yes?”

“Desole, je ne parle pas l’anglais,” he said regretfully. “C��est un…wedding?”

“Yes, the wedding between your teammates.”

“These words, I don’t know them.” His French accent was almost comically thick as he shook his head. “Desole.”

Out of view of the cameras, Sirius gave him a thumbs-up and reached over to high-five Pots.

[anxioussweasley]

hi! so i saw you were asking for requests so could i please request a fluff fred au with prompts 9 and 19 from the fluff part of the list? like reader and fred aren't dating but everyone knows they love each other and fred and reader kinda confess to each other while reader braids freds hair (he has it long like in goblet of fire)? some best friends to lovers kinda thing 🥺 thank you in advance, i love your writing!!

Braiding sessions and confessions

9. “Will you braid my hair?”

19. “We’d be a cute couple, don’t you think?”

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, unedited

Word count: 2.1k

Masterlist

A/n: Thank you for the request love! I really hope you like this, sorry I didn’t edit it lol.

“Well, hello love,” Fred greets as he sits next to you in the great hall. His twin following on the other side of the table, sitting across from him. As Fred gets settled he puts his arm around you, pulling you closer to him.

“Hi Fred,” you mumble as you lay your head on his shoulder. Tired from the long night you spent doing assignments so you wouldn’t have any to do over the weekend.

“You two are gross y’know that?” George rolls his eyes, letting out a small chuckle when you and his twin's faces blush over. Fred retracted his arm from you to flip his brother off and you hurriedly sat up straight again.

“Oh shove off George, I know you're as emotionally stunted as a mandrake root but it is completely normal for friends to be affectionate,” Fred jokes, putting his arm back around you.

George only rolls his eyes, muttering under his breath, “yeah whatever you say.” His sarcasm radiating off of him.

You just giggle at the boy's antics, before turning back to fixing your breakfast plate.

As you fix your breakfast plate you try to reach across the table to grab the pitcher of pumpkin juice, but before your hand can clasp around the handle, Fred is reaching out and snatching it up with little effort. The boy gives you a warm smile, muttering an “I’ve got it,” before grabbing your cup and filling it up, placing it back down in front of you and filling his own cup.

“Thanks Freddie,” you smile shyly, reaching out for the cup and taking a sip. Small gestures like these were starting to confuse you. Fred was your best friend, so why did your heart flutter when he put his arm around you, or filled your cup for you, or winked at you, or sat by you, or looked at you, or basically existed in the same room as you. Well, you knew why… you just didn’t want to realize it yet.

“Aw what a cute couple,” George teased.

“George, I mean it. Shove. Off,”

“Are you going to hogsmeade today?” George directed at you, while shoving a piece of toast in his mouth.

“I’m not sure. Why?” You answered him, quirking your eyebrow at the question.

“Well, you see,” George started, Fred’s face already becoming hot with embarrassment, “Freddie here got caught while we were pranking filch last night. So he’s been banned from the trip. So I was just curious.” George gives you a knowing look, understanding that even if going to hogsmeade was your greatest wish in life, you would stay at hogwarts for Fred.

“George has already decided he’s going without me, and although I would love to just seek out, McGonagall said if I get caught she’ll be forced to kick me off the quidditch team. So I figured I’d just stay here and relax,” Fred informed. Hoping more than anything that you would offer to stay with him. The truth is he could easily sneak to Hogsmeade, but the idea of spending the day alone with you sounded much more appealing.

“I’ll stay here with you, if you want,” you suggested, heart warming at the thought of spending the day alone with Fred.

“Oh wow I never saw that coming,” George joked, his tongue laced with sarcasm. “You two should just admit you're in love already. You're so obvious even oblivious little ronnikens knows!” George exclaims making a big hand gesture down the table to Ron. Ron sits up straight, his mouth full of eggs, “what?” He questions looking between the three of you. Noticing how close you and Fred are sitting and the blush on your faces he quickly processes what George had said. “Oh, yeah, you two should get a room,” the younger ginger teases before going back to stuffing his face with breakfast. Fred glares at the younger boy for a minute as George quickly finishes his plate and leaves the great hall with Lee Jordan, before you or Fred can respond to his smug remark

A moment passes as you and Fred watch George leave and then you burst into a fit of giggles, “your brother is a real git sometimes.” Fred let out a loud laugh at that, nodding his head.

The two of you continued to eat breakfast, sitting shoulder to shoulder, laughing and joking. After a particularly loud laugh from you at one of Fred’s jokes, you looked around quickly to see if you had caught anyone’s attention. You noticed a group of girls glaring at you, and before you could brush it off as thinking you were annoying, you noticed they weren’t so much glaring at you as they were glaring at Fred’s arm around you. It had happened before. Girls glaring at you and Fred’s closeness, starting jealous rumors about you and Fred’s relationship. You have even had girls rudely ask if you were dating Fred, and when you promptly answer ‘no’, sweetly ask you to put in a good word for them. Despite your growing familiarity with the girls jealous stares. You started to feel uncomfortable as you looked back down at the table, unconsciously scooting away from Fred.

Fred noticed your sudden change in demeanor, glaring in the direction you were just looking, being met with the smug faces of a group of girls. Fred’s frown deepened before turning back to you and lightly bumping your shoulder with his arm. “Let’s get out of here, yeah?” His voice was soft, contrasting the glare he sent the group of girls over your shoulder.

“Yeah.” You answered quickly with a small nod. Fred stood up then, and offered his hand out to you, helping you off the bench and slinging his arm back around you as he led you to the Gryffindor common room.

“Sorry about all that,” Fred mumbled as you two strolled through the halls of hogwarts. He hated all the unwanted attention you got from being his friend. He knew his popularity among their peers, particularly their female peers, was a downside to your friendship with him.

“It’s not your fault, actually I’m starting to get used to it, I mean it’s been like this ever since you joined the quidditch team and got away with pranking Snape,” you giggle slightly at the memory of seeing the greasy professor in pink robes.

“You shouldn’t have to deal with it,” Fred sighed, “I mean we’re not- '' Fred”

paused, honestly saddened by what he was planning to say. “I guess, well, we’re not even together. They should leave you alone.” He finished, shaking his head, to hide his blushed cheeks behind his hair.

“It’s okay Freddie. really. Honestly I’m more concerned about how long your hairs getting,” you joke trying to lighten the mood.

Fred laughs, giving you a smug smirk, “oh, don’t act like you don’t like it.”

“Trust me, love,” you giggle, “I don’t like it.” You try to finish your statement with a straight face but are unable to control your giggles.

“You wound me,” Fred joked dramatically, holding his hands up over his heart. Well you thought he was being dramatic, really he moved his hands to his chest because his heart felt like it was about to explode at you calling him love.

“Oh, I’m sorry, didn’t mean to bruise your ego there,” you taunt before softening your voice and saying, “I’m just kidding Fred, I do like your hair long, it suits you.”

Fred's face broke into a wide grin as he thanked you before suggesting that the two of you go hang out in his dorm considering that the common room was possessed by a very loud group of first and second years playing exploding snaps.

You and Fred made it up to the dorm room in comfortable silence, the two of you making yourselves comfortable on his bed. Fred pulled out one of the twins' inventions fiddling with it as you mindlessly braided a small piece of your hair.

Fred couldn’t help but let his eyes drift to you, he knew his brother was right, you and him act like you loved each other. Fred knew he loved you, but what if you didn’t love him? He could never risk losing your friendship over something like that. Could never risk losing you, no matter how much he wanted you to know how he felt. He watched you silently hoping you wouldn’t notice as you focused on braiding your hair.

“Ginny use to ask us to do that,” Fred murmured with a chuckle.

“What? Braid her hair?” You answered your own question.

Fred nodded scooting closer to you. “Yeah, all of us tried to learn how, George was good at it, I got the hang of it eventually but Bill was the best, Charlie was okay at it, Percy could do like the special kind. French braiding? Is that what it’s called?” You nodded. “Ron couldn't get the hang of it to save his life, not that he really wanted to.” Fred smiled warmly at the memories of when Bill tried to teach him how to braid Ginny's hair when she asked him. “I don’t even remember how anymore.”

“It’s sweet that you all tried to learn for your sister,” you said as you finished the small braid in your hair.

“Yeah I guess. Will you braid my hair?” Fred mumbled, as he realized that his hair now might be long enough for it.

A big smile spread across your face as you sat up. “Of course Freddie, come here,” you patted the place on the bed in front of you, Fred moving to sit there with his back towards you.

You ran your hands through his hair checking for tangles. “Your hair is so soft,” you giggle, in awe of how soft the ginger's hair was. As you braided Fred’s hair you started humming softly. A warm feeling spreading through you as you realized just how much you wanted to be like this all the time. You wanted to tell Fred how you felt, but you didn’t know how.

Fred was having the same tug of war in his mind. A shiver running down his spine each time your skin brushed his. He loved the feeling of your hands in his hair, he loved having you in his room, in his bed, just being close to you.

“Thanks for doing this Y/n,” Fred mumbled tiredly, your hands softly braiding his hair and the soft humming of your voice making him sleepy. “I’m sorry about my brother earlier by the way, and the girls in the great hall.”

“I already told you it's okay Freddie. And your brother was just teasing,” you answered.

“Yeah but he was right though. We’d be a cute couple, don’t you think?” The words had escaped Fred’s mouth before he could even process what he was saying. His heart dropped to his stomach when you quickly pulled your hands away from his hair.

He sat up straight, quickly turning to you, to gauge your reaction. When his eyes landed on you, you were staring back at him with wide eyes. “You- you think we’d be a cute couple?” You whispered breathless.

When Fred realized that your initial reaction was not automatic rejection, the sinking feeling in his stomach lessened as he decided to summon all the courage he had. “Yeah, I really do. Y/n, George was right when he said I loved you.”

You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know what to think. Fred was your best friend and you were in love with him, and here he is confessing to you. You didn’t snap out of your awe until you registered a sad disheartened look crossing Fred’s face. You cursed yourself for being quiet for too long. So you reached out your hands, cupping Fred’s face and bringing him closer to you. “I love you too, Freddie.” And with that you crashed your lips on his.

After the kiss Fred asked you to be his girlfriend, and after you happily accepted, you finished braiding his hair. The two of you lounged around his dorm for the rest of the day holding each other and wishing you hadn’t waited so long to confess.

“I knew it!” George yelled as he entered the room finding you and Fred snuggled up on Fred’s bed. Lee laughed at George’s loud remark. “I swear if you two look me in the eye now and say you're just friends I’m going to lose it!” George exclaimed, making everyone in the room laugh.

“We’re not just friends.”

[cloudybarnes]

Birthday Presents | S.S

Pairing: Stefan Salvatore x reader

Summary: Stefan hasn't seen his two best friends y/n and Lexi for years. Upon his return to Mystic Falls (set in season 1), Lexi and Y/n decide to surprise him for his birthday.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: none

Masterlist

A/N: this will not follow exactly how Lexi met up with Stefan for his birthday!

✰  ✰  ✰

You couldn't stop the grin that was eating up your face as you packed your small bag. Lexi stood leaning on the doorway, watching you with a smirk. "I don't see why you're even packing. We could just get new clothes when we get to Mystic Falls."

You shook your head, still smiling, and turned to her. You zipped your bag shut, and sauntered over to her. When you were close enough, you poked her nose. "You silly goose, I'm not packing clothes. These are for Stefan's birthday." You placed your bag down and unzipped it, crouching to open the flap and show her what you packed. "A framed picture of the three of us from 1948, the first letter I wrote to him in the war, a framed photo of him, Damon and I, and this," you pulled out a dangling sword pendant.

Lexi gasped, crouching down next to you. "You didn't." She grabbed the necklace from you and very gently examined it. "There's no way you could have found this. I watched Stefan throw it into the ocean during one of his ripper phases. Is it a dupe?"

You smirked and lifted the matching one you wore out from under your shirt. Grasping the necklace back from Lexi, you held them side by side, and looked at her expectantly. "Come on, put yours here, too."

She grabbed hold on the tiny sword that was dangling around her neck, and brought it closer to the other two. When placed together, the tips of the swords linked from a magnetic pull, and changed colors. Lexi laughed, "Oh my god, this is amazing. How did you ever find it?"

You shrugged, zipping your bag and standing up to leave. "After Stefan threw it into the ocean, I just swam down for it. Honestly, I forgot I had put it in my box for when he was back to normal, so now his lost friendship necklace is a birthday present."

Lexi shook her head a grinned, slinging her arm over my shoulder. "You're amazing, you know that?"

You chuckled, "Yes, but keep reminding me; it inflates my ego."

She cackled, and shoved your shoulder away from her. In a flash, the two of you started on your run to Mystic Falls.

Once you arrived in Mystic Falls, your first place to look was the old Salvatore Boarding House. At the front door, you turned to Lexi. "We aren't actually going to knock, are we?"

She chuckled, "Hell no. I say we give Stefan a scare. Nothing like lurking vampires to get your blood pumping, right?"

You smirked. Lexi and you together were a devilishly good combination. You get into trouble, pull pranks, and just have a load of fun. "Let's do it."

You silently opened the door of the boarding house, and used your vampire hearing to locate those inside. You could hear Stefan talking, and after waiting a few seconds, you heard the sounds of his brother Damon arguing with him.

You snickered, and Lexi rolled her eyes at the sounds of them bickering. You set your bag down in the living room, and motioned up the stairs for Lexi and you to get up with the Salvatores.

You used my super speed to get up the steps and into Stefan's room where the brothers stood. Lexi trailed behind you. Without them seeing, you sped in between them so they could just make out the flash of someone running by. Then, you hid behind a dresser waiting for your time to come out again.

"Looks like we have company, brother." Damon stated, looking around the room wide-eyed. "Guess your rant will have to wait."

Lexi sped behind Damon, causing him to spin around, trying to see her.

Stefan growled, "Show yourself! Quit playing games and come out."

His eyes scanned the room, as Damon not-so-stealthily grabbed a wooden stake and threw it to Stefan.

You rolled your eyes and super sped up to Stefan, pushing him back against the wall, pinning the hand of his that held the stake against the wall. You grinned as he took in the sight of me, "Hello, Stefan."

His eyes were wide, but his smile was even wider. "Y/n," he breathed out.

Next to him on the wall, Lexi pinned Damon, hitting his head in the process. "Ugh," Damon groaned in pain, "and Lexi."

You giggled, releasing Stefan from the wall so you could give him a hug. "Happy Birthday, Stefan! Lexi and I missed you and wanted to celebrate together."

Lexi released Damon, and you stepped out of Stefan's hug so he could greet her as well.

Damon came up to you and lightly punched your shoulder. "Finally decided to come pay us a visit, Y/n?"

You grinned, and jokingly slapped him upside the head before pulling him into a hug as well. "Yeah, yeah. A girl's got a life, Damon. I've been really busy these last few years."

Damon chuckled as you pulled back and walked over to Stefan to give him a light punch in the shoulder. "I missed you, dude. It's been too long since I've actually been able to come with Lexi and celebrate with you."

Stefan grinned, "Yeah, finally you decide to pay your best friend a visit."

Damon shook his head, "Are we sure Y/n is really here to see you, Stefan? I mean, we all know she likes me more than she likes you."

You rolled your eyes, "Sure, Damon. That's why in 1942 I pushed you off that cliff; cause you're my favorite Salvatore." You teased with a light smile.

Damon chuckled, "knew it."

"Anyway," Lexi grinned, "Stefan, because it is your birthday, we're spending the entire day together!"

You perked up, "Oh! I also got some things for you for your birthday."

Stefan groaned, smiling. "You didn't have to get anything for me, Y/n/n. Just you two being here is good enough."

Lexi scoffed, "Yeah, right. Y/n, go get the presents."

You giggled and super sped out to the living room and back, returning with your bag in hand. "Okay, I didn't have time to wrap anything, so just close your eyes and I'll place things in your hand one at a time."

Stefan rolled his eyes, but complied. Once his eyes were shut, and his hands were outstretched, you placed the first gift in his hands.

Opening his eyes, he saw the framed photo of him, Lexi, and you. Stefan stood in the middle of you two with his tailored suit. You and Lexi stood wearing old dresses, and matching hats. Your hair was perfectly curled to the style of the 40s.

"Wow," Stefan gasped. "I can't believe you have this picture, thank you so much, Y/n."

Lexi peered over his shoulder to look at it. "Wow, we looked so posh in the 40s, Y/n."

You smiled, "Yeah we did. And you're welcome, Stefan. Now close your eyes again; I have a few more gifts for you."

He closed his eyes once more, and you put the framed photo of you, him, and Damon in his hands. This peeked Damon's interest, because he was now the one to look over Stefan's shoulder.

"Well would you look at that." Damon sighed.

Stefan looked at the picture and smiled sadly. Things must not be going so well with Damon, especially after that arguing you walked in on. "This is great, Y/n. It's nice to look back and see us all when things were simpler."

You nodded, "I'm glad you like them, but I have two more gifts for you, which I think you'll like more than the photos."

You giddily handed him the first letter you wrote to him before he even had the chance to close his eyes.

"The first letter you wrote to me when I went off to war." Stefan stated, amazed. "How do you even have this? I thought it got burned up in battle."

You grinned, "Have more faith in me, Stefan. You know I never lose important things."

"Brother, read it to us. I want to know what Y/n said while you were away." Damon said, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall.

Stefan looked at me, seemingly remembering what you had written on that sheet of paper. "Are you all right with me sharing this?"

You nodded, "Of course. It's your letter, you can do what you like with it." You smiled. Lexi came over and wrapped her arm around your shoulder, placing her head on yours. Seems like she remembers what you wrote on this as well.

"Okay then," Stefan cleared his throat and began reading.

"My Dearest Stefan,

We have not been a part from one another since before our initial meet, so you may be able to see how this is effecting me. I truly miss your presence more than anything the world has to offer. Your smile, your laugh, your wit, and your charm are all missing from my life, and I do not wish for it to be that way. I do not want to ever see another time we are not with each other. Alas, I sided with Lexi on the decision to send you off in search of finding your self, or I would be right beside you.

Lexi and I are taking care of Damon for you. (More so me; you know how Lexi feels of him). I will do my best to make sure he is someone you can depend on for when you return. If I am unsuccessful, and Damon is still Damon, you will at least have Lexi and I for the rest of eternity. (While I do think the time I am spending with Damon is helping, he is still ruthless. I will do my best to show him humanity and kindness before your return).

Though I do thoroughly enjoy my time spent with Damon, I tremendously miss my favorite Salvatore man. Lexi is great company as well, but she does not make me feel the way you do, Stefan. My heart aches to be with you again, and maybe when that day comes I will be able to confess how I feel. I am counting down the days til we meet again. For now, I leave you with this letter, and a piece of my love.

Yours,

Y/n Y/l/n"

A faded lipstick mark is left on the bottom of the stained paper.

Damon hummed, "Intense. I like the talk of me, though I thought you were spending time with me because you liked me."

You giggled, "I do like you Damon. You're a good friend when you want to be, and the time I spent with you while Stefan was away made my days more fun. I was never forced to spend time with you, Damon. You were my friend, not my experiment."

He smirked, "I know, I was messing with you. Now how about we talk about that little love confession at the end of your letter? I take it Stefan didn't feel the same? I don't recall you two ever getting together."

You rolled your eyes, "We just never brought it up when he came back."

Stefan lightly smiled at you, "we can talk about the letter later. Let's see my last present, yeah?"

You grinned and looked to Lexi who smiled back at you. "Okay, but you actually have to close your eyes this time. This is the one I've been waiting to give to you."

Stefan playfully rolled his eyes, but still shut them and held his hands out.

You giggled as you placed the sword necklace into his hands. When he opened his eyes and saw what it was, Stefan gasped.

He started slowly shaking his head, looking from the necklace, to you, to Lexi, then back to the necklace. "There's no way. There is literally no way this is my necklace from 1874. I, I threw it into the ocean. How did you get this?"

You smirked, and grabbed it from him. You walked over and stood behind him to fastened it around his neck. "I told you Stefan, I never lose things that are important."

Taking out your necklace that dangled under your shirt, you motioned Lexi to come over. She grinned and pranced over to us so we stood in a close triangle. You stretched yours out and touched tips with both of theirs. The metal sword tips stuck together, and the necklaces started to glow different colors.

Pulling yours back, you looked at Stefan who couldn't stop the grin from eating up his face.

You giggled, "I take it you like your birthday gifts?"

Stefan didn't respond. He instead pulled you into a tight hug and whispered in your ear. "These are amazing, Y/n. You're amazing; I can't believe you're here and you brought all of this back for me."

He pulled away and stared into your eyes. With your  super hearing, you noticed Lexi and Damon leaving the room.

"I never did get to address your letter. I was scared to talk about it when I got back home in fear of your mind being changed." Stefan lightly smiled.

You stared up at him, your heart beating. Stefan definitely heard your heart rate pick up because he chuckled. "I still have feelings for you, Stefan. I know not seeing each other for a little while may have put a strain on our relationship, but I feel as if we never parted."

He grinned, "I feel the same way. I've loved you since you first said hello to me, Y/n, and I'd be a fool to turn you away now that I finally have my chance to be with you."

You giggled, "Technically you had a chance back when you came home from war, but I'll let it slide."

Stefan playfully rolled his eyes and cradled your cheeks in his warm hands, "Good. That means I can do this."

Stefan confidently closed the distance between your lips. You eyes fluttered shut as you felt the soft touch of Stefan's lips. You trailed your fingers up to his hair and got lost in the moment. Kissing Stefan was like riding on top of clouds. He was soft and light with his kiss. It was confident but not overbearing.

Out of breath, you pulled back from him, but kept your faces close by resting your forehead on his. Your eyes slowly opened and saw his already staring back at you.

He grinned, "I think that was my favorite present of them all."

[kpop-stan23-writes]

old money seonghwa

another case of me reading this post by @warmau and being inspired! btw, if you enjoy brilliantly clever bullet aus you should definitely give skye a follow.

read san's part here and mingi’s part here

group: ateez member: seonghwa genre: fluff? rich boy au word count: 1.5k warnings: a few curse words. the note is a little suggestive pairing: seonghwa x gn!reader

note: the seonghwa i portray here definitely isn't the type of seonghwa who would hover over you while dressed in a three piece suit and you're wearing nothing but one of his vintage watches but i figure hey, maybe he can grow into that seonghwa

heir to a trust fund that has been getting richer by the decade

only knows other trust fund babies

appears cold and standoffish to the general public but that's really only because he doesn't know how to interact with people not in the top 1%

(secretly very awkward)

only wears high end luxury brands and old, vintage watches that have been in his family for generations

gets driven around in a limo with windows tinted black

perfect gentleman

has never once in his life forgotten his manners because they were practically beaten into him since he could walk

everybody in the upper class loves him because they think he's perfect: perfect manners, perfect looks, perfect bank account

and that's okay

it's the only life he's known, after all

until he meets you

it's your friend's birthday, and their rich other half has given you some money to pick out something

you're frugal, having grown up modestly, and knowing your friend's taste, found something they'll adore for a fraction of the money their s/o gave you

you're standing in front of a jewelry store when your friend surprises you and all but drags you into the store

you roll your eyes but follow, listening to them say that you should go ahead and spend the spare change *wink wink*

seonghwa is already inside, searching for a suitable gift for his mother's own birthday

he looks up when he hears a salesperson greet the newcomers

and immediately tells the saleswoman helping him to bag everything you look at

her eyes widen at the request but nods and hurries away to inform the others

you're none the wiser, eyeing the lovely jewelry and ignoring your friend as they try to convince you that their s/o wouldn't mind if you spent the money on yourself, since you've already gotten the birthday gift *wink wink*

your friend does find a little something as a birthday gift to themselves and you follow them to the cashier

three large bags are placed on the counter and you and your friend share a look

"i only purchased this," your friend says

"oh no these are yours," the cashier says, looking directly at you

"but i didn't--i can't--"

"oh they're on seonghwa's tab. he's just over there"

your head whips around just in time to see the retreating back of a tall figure

you look back at the three large bags filled to the brim each with neatly wrapped boxes

"how much..."

your friend nearly chokes when the cashier hands over the bill

you don't dare look yourself, just stare at the empty entry where this seonghwa disppeared

your friend fills you in about the park seonghwa as you walk to your car, arms heavy with the unexpected gifts

with every fact your friend tells you, you feel yourself grow more and more confused

this man has everything he could ever want, and you assume that includes his fill of attractive suitors of the same class

so who are you? just a random stranger who happened to stop by a high-end jewelry store way out of your price range

when your friend's s/o hears about what happened, they're just as shocked as you

because park seonghwa spending oodles on a perfect stranger? what has the world come to

you try going back to the jewelry store to return the jewels, but they tell you they can't process a refund without the original card

so you convince your friend's s/o to give you the address to seonghwa's penthouse apartment, because now you get a chance to demand an explanation as well

stepping out of the cab with your arms full of bags with the expensive name splashed across in big bold letters makes you feel sorely out of place

because wow what a building

the lobby, while small, has tall ceilings, and the marble floors make every step you take echo

the woman behind the counter is in a simple black dress that still looks like it costs more than several months of your salary put together and you fidget nervously in your ripped jeans and scuffed shoes

the woman looks down her nose at you even though you're standing over her and for a moment you're at a loss as to what to say

the longer you stand there, though, the more foolish you feel, and you hate feeling foolish, so quickly you're just mad you're in this situation to begin with

you drop the heavy bags on the smooth wood counter and say "let seonghwa know i'm here to return the jewelry"

"and what's your name?"

"he'll know who it is"

she looks like she's ready to argue, but you just turn your back to her, leaning against the counter and tapping your foot obnoxiously loudly in a way that makes it obvious you won't leave until she's given seonghwa your message

she huffs but picks up the phone

she relays your message in a tone that clearly says she doesn't believe a word you say and you have to fight a smirk when you notice her eyes widen in surprise at seonghwa's response

she clears her throat and passes you a key board and tells you to use it to get to the penthouse floor

you take the card and gather your bags and march toward the elevators

frustration is still coursing through your veins when the elevator doors open directly into seonghwa's living room, so you don't notice that wow the pictures you've found online of park seonghwa don't do him justice

instead you march fearlessly up to him, drop the bags on the large leather sofa, and cross your arms over your chest

"what exactly are these for?"

you are prepared for all sorts of reactions, ranging from disbelief to anger

what you weren't expecting was the ever-cool, every-confident park seonghwa to burn holes in his slippers, rub the back of his neck uncertainly, and say questioningly, "they're for you?"

you're so shocked at his response that you're rendered dumb

this is not the park seonghwa you were expecting

he's looking at you now, his dark eyes wide (you know the look he gets, the galaxy-filled boba-eyed look) and look as innocent as a calf

any anger you had at being put in this ridiculous situation leaves you immediately and now you're feeling as awkward and uncertain as he appears to be

you clear your throat and gesture to the bags and explain that no one could possibly wear that many jewels in one lifetime

he seems confused and you suddenly wonder if he's ever seen the women in his life wear a piece of jewelry more than once

"look it's a really sweet and kind gesture," you say quickly, "but it's simply too much. can you please return these?"

seonghwa just nods and you're left standing in front of each other awkwardly

you finally bow and scurry away, but are then left hanging out to dry because where the hell is that elevator and why didn't it just stay on the top floor when you got out??

your friend and their s/o pesters you about how it went but you just wave them off because you're guessing you've seen a side of park seonghwa no one has ever seen before and it feels strangely intimate and you feel strangely protective

you keep an eye out for him in the news, now, though, and can't get over how put-together and suave he looks on camera

it makes you almost wish you could get to know the seonghwa you saw

but you're from completely different worlds, shop at completely different stores, and after all he only spotted you out of chance

what you aren't expecting is to see him at your friend's birthday party just two weeks later

because their s/o is hosting the event, it's black tie required, and with your friend's help you clean up well

you're also there before the other guests, helping the s/o as a second host

so as you're making the rounds of the guests, you stop in your tracks when you spot park seonghwa

damn he looks really good in a suit

and for a moment you see the cool, distant park seonghwa in the flesh

but as soon as your eyes meet, his gaze warms and is that a hint of a blush on his cheeks?

you straighten your shoulders because dammit you will be a good second host and greet all the guests like you're supposed to

you finally make your way to seonghwa and thank him for attending your friend's birthday party

"i never caught your name," he says before you can run away

you stop in your tracks and just stare at him now because he really bought those things without even knowing your name? seeing him at your friend's party you thought maybe he recognized you through their s/o but he really couldn’t have picked you out of a lineup?

he shifts under your unblinking gaze and you quickly clear your throat and introduce yourself properly

he smiles a little and you swear you hear him say "pretty. it suits you" under his breath

but you heard wrong, right?

you finally manage to flee when you hear your name called and you quickly bow before scurrying away

seonghwa is left in a daze the rest of the evening, your pretty name going around and around in his head

the end?

[roger-that-cap]

jack pendleton

summary: moving into an apartment to get away from your last relationship was fun all fun and games until you met your extremely attractive across-the-hall neighbor, who makes awesome cookies and even better novels.

author!bucky x reader

warnings: no legitimate warnings besides swearing, it kind of moves just a weensie bit fast but i think it’s cute, minimal angst, I WROTE THIS IN ONE DAY and that is a warning tbh so expect mistakes in this hunk a junk-

word count: 6.2k!

Searching for your new apartment was a terribly long and boring process, but even you couldn’t deny that finally moving in was heavenly. 

It was the first thing that you did by yourself after having a mutual break up with your boyfriend, and you would be damned if it felt anything but good. He confessed to you that he had fallen in love with a man that he met online. Not only that, but an Italian man that he was teaching English to over a website. He was brave enough to tell you as soon as he realized that he loved the man, so the heartbreak was minimal. 

You never told him, but honestly, you sort of respected him for that. So, with your hidden respect and gratitude, you wished him well and knew that you were going to be the one to find a new place. 

 So there you stood, right in front of your new place with a singular box in your arms, all the others in the smallest U-Haul available to rent that you drove there. You stared at your door for a moment, which read an embroidered C7, and then you fiddled with your keys to unlock it.  

  You had a lot of work to do. 

§§§

By the end of the fourth day, mostly all of your things were put away. You didn’t think you had much to begin with, but unpacking made you realize that you had more than you thought. So with your ambitious mind, you got everything done on your own, even the decorations that you had at your last appointment were on the walls. 

 By the seventh day, it was starting to feel like home again. And that called for a celebration. You got your purse and your car keys, your mind already in the shopping mall. 

  As you stepped out of your door, the door directly across from yours opened too. You didn’t pay them much mind besides flashing a smile and turning around to lock your own door, not even looking at whoever it was properly enough to see them. But when you did, you definitely did. 

 A man with long, brown hair and clear blue eyes was staring at you like a deer in the headlights, and you would have thought that he mistook you for a celebrity if it weren’t for the wrinkle of confusion on his forehead. The first thought that came to your mind was that he was as stiff as a board, and that it was almost comical. The second thought that came to your mind was that this man was very handsome, despite the way that he was looking at you like you had just said the dumbest thing known to man. 

 “Um, hello,” you said, not even having to be loud because you were just a few feet apart. You were tempted to be a smartass and say something rude about his incessant staring, but instead, you reminded yourself that you were going to have to deal with the consequences of your smart remark later on. Humiliation and awkwardness every time you saw him was not what you wanted. “Have a good day.” 

  You turned to your left and walked down the stairs, thankful that you lived on the edge of the hall and could just run down some steps to get away from whatever that “encounter” was. 

§§§

The mall was utterly packed, but that didn’t matter to you at all. You were there to browse for something that was going to make you even happier after your move, and a few people in line weren’t going to bother you. You went in and out of clothing stores, buying a few things here and there, and then on your way out, you passed by a bookstore. 

  You liked books, you really did. But you were avoiding that store like the plague. For you to go into a bookstore with so many options available, you knew that the safest route for your budget was to know what you were getting from the second you walked in. You stood in front of it for a second, debating on going in without looking online beforehand or just coming back another day. Your own feet answered the question for you, and then you were entering the huge book store.

 The shelves were high and wide and sturdy, dark brown and creating isles. Fantasy, Young Adult, Spiritual, Languages. The genres went as far as you could see. And that meant that if you weren’t wise, you could be buying a book from every aisle.

  You counted the number of shelves, seeing that there were almost thirty as far as you knew, and then took out the two dice that you took with you everywhere, for reasons like this. You were indecisive, and two little cubes with black dots on them were as sure as it could get. They were your Decision Dice. They had never steered you wrong before, and today wouldn’t be the day. You were going to roll twice, and if the sum was a number less than ten, then you would multiply it by two, which was your lucky number.  You liked to make things difficult. 

You saw a woman staring at you with cautious eyes as you bent down and shook your closed hand, and you heard her chuckle when she saw the two little cubes roll out of your palm. 

  “Four,” you murmured once you saw three dots on one and one on the other. You picked them up and shook your hand again. “Three. That makes seven, and seven times two makes aisle fourteen.” You picked up the dice (that you would never admit came from your grandpa’s set of Yahtzee) and walked past the still laughing woman in the science fiction aisle.  

  Of course, aisle fourteen was the aisle that you probably had the least business in. Romance. You almost walked away and went for the fifteenth instead, but then what would the point in rolling be? What would stop you from denying the Decision Dice in later situations? You sighed for a second after your own dramatics and looked the shelves up and down, trying to find a title that grabbed you. 

 You walked up and down the aisle, slowly combing through until you saw a book on the bottom shelf by some Jack Pendleton. You frowned. It wasn’t often that you saw men’s names in the romance section, and when you did, you hardly liked what they wrote. The love interest was always flat or too out there to be believable. The female love interest in men’s books always had to be “not like other girls”, and it was worn out. For some reason, you reached down for it anyway, ready to see what you had already seen a million times before. 

  What you really ended up seeing shocked you. 

It was about a man who served in the army oversees and came back an amputee, and became locked in a love triangle between his physical therapist and his best friend, all the while dealing with his sexuality. 

  That was a lot of man versus self. You wanted it. 

You stood up and without second thought walked to the counter, handing the cashier the book and getting out your credit card. 

§§§

You cracked open the book the second you threw your fast food trash away in your trash can. You made yourself comfortable on your little couch and put some light music on in the background, just so that it wouldn’t be completely silent. You didn’t do well with silence at all. 

 It took all of four pages for Jack Pendleton to surprise you again. His writing style was gorgeous and smooth, and you cold tell that he meant every word that was printed on the pages. His diction was brilliant, his descriptions even better. He didn’t give too much or too little, and you were already falling in love with it. 

  The main character, Elijah, was likeable but flawed. Within the first thirty pages, you could already sense that he was gaining feelings that he didn’t even know about for his best friend, Will, who wasn’t named until about forty pages at Elijah’ first physical therapy appointment. Will hadn’t even shown up yet. 

You had blown through nearly half the book when you realized that it was eleven at night, and that you had work the next morning. You swore to yourself and put a smaller piece of paper in your book this time, looking at it longingly and patting it on the spine before leaving it on the small coffee table. 

§§§

Work was horrible. It was boring, and you spent the whole first part of your day with a man who was mad at you specifically because you ran out of a special type of shoe that he needed to wear the next day. The store that you worked at wasn’t even really a shoe store. Then, he asked to see the manager. You were the shift manager. He got so pissed that he threw a hanger at you and stormed out, and all you could do was laugh. 

 You were so tired of retail, it wasn’t even funny. 

 You were a little more than a hundred and twenty pages in when there was a knock on your door, and it came right as you were about t flip the page. You resisted the urge to scream, completely and utterly fed up with the public for the day. There was no use in trying to ignore the knocking that already yanked your mind out of the fictional world, and so you left the book on your couch, sticking a piece of paper in it quickly to save your page. 

You swung the door open, expecting to find someone who wanted you to fill out a survey or maybe even someone from maintenance making sure that everything was okay with your apartment. You certainly didn’t expect to see your beautiful neighbor with a pie in his gloved hands and a pink flush on his face. 

  He spoke first. “Hi, I live across the floor,” he pointed towards the door that you knew he lived behind. “I was just coming to bring you a welcoming gift.”  

  You were stunned. The man who stared you down and didn’t even say a word to you was at your door with what looked like a homemade pie, and wow, was that a turn of events. It was something straight out of that cheesy romance section that you were in at the bookstore. “Wow, thank you. You made that?”

  The pink on his cheeks graduated to scarlet. “I-yeah, I did.” 

You couldn’t contain the grin that stretched onto your face. “That’s really kind of you, thank you. I’m sure I’ll love it.” You gently took it from his hands and smiled up at him. 

  “It’s also an apology, for staring at you like that when you were leaving.” You noticed his subtle accent and fought the urge to swoon. He was so adorably shy. “No one’s lived in this one for years, and I didn’t notice you moving in. Kinda scared me.” 

 “You didn’t see the moving truck?” You asked teasingly.

You saw the small grimace on his face, and your smile faltered. “I don’t really go outside much,” he said vaguely, and you felt that you hit a nerve. 

  You shrugged with the pie still in your hands, lips turning upwards at him. “It’s okay, I don’t, either.” 

  You were both smiling now. 

“Well, um,” he started to say, and you nodded your head at him, already knowing that he was about to go. “I have to finish something. I’ll see you later?” 

 “There’s a pretty good chance that you will,” you said, and he gave an awkward wave before turning around and walking away, right into his apartment without another look back. You cursed softly when he shut his door, and you looked down at the pie. 

You didn’t even get his name.

§§§

You realized after five days of nothing (and cleaning out the pan of delicious pie by yourself) that you weren’t going to see your neighbor by chance. You hoped that you would, more than you hoped for anything else before. But he was right. He didn’t go outside much. The doors in the building were all so loud that it was nearly impossible not to hear them opening or shutting, and you never heard his once. 

You had to do it yourself. Somehow, you needed to figure out how to see him again without it being incredibly weird, but you had a plan. In your eyes, it was pretty foolproof. Your mom’s chicken parmesan could never go wrong, and everyone liked to eat. You went to the grocery store without even having to roll the Decision Dice and got started on it the second you got home.

***

When it was done, there was a thin line of sweat on your forehead. You put a note to yourself in your head that the kitchen got insanely hot when you cooked, and you vowed to remember it next time. You took off your fancy apron and the chef’s hat that you wore for fun when you cooked and set it on the countertop. Now, the hard part came.

How were you supposed to get brave enough to bring a plate over to his place? Were you supposed to hope that he hadn’t eaten yet? Or, were you supposed to let him in to eat? Shit, that sounded too much like a date.

With all those thoughts in mind, you walked up to his door, C6, and knocked on it. You realized last minute that you forgot the plate on the table, so dinner was over at your apartment by default unless you did an awkward dash across the hall. The sound of boots coming towards the door were loud and clear, and then the door opened, barely giving you enough time to swallow your anxieties. You got a panging irrational fear that he wouldn’t remember you, but were relieved when he smiled down at you.

“Hi,” you said, sounding more like a telemarketer than a neighbor. “I made chicken parmesan.” It was silent for a few seconds as you both tried to make sense of what was happening, and you kicked yourself on the inside. “I made a plate for you because um, I wanted to thank you for the pie. It was really good.”

His face lit up, and it was like you were given a new burst of life and hope simultaneously. “Oh, thank you! That’s really sweet, thank you,” he repeated, his words getting slightly jumbled up the more and more he spoke. He was so cute. 

You realized that the both of you were just staring at each other, standing with smiles that were increasingly leaning towards more than polite by the second. “I can, uh, bring it to your door if you want.”

“I can come over, if that makes it easier.” Both sentences were spoken at the same time, and it caused you both to apologize once again at the same time. “No, no, I’ll come back with you,” he said when you two finally spoke your own sentences. 

You tilted your head. You were sure that he was shy, you could have bet money on him wanting to eat alone. “Are you sure?”

“Of course,” he gave you a small smile and stepped out of his apartment, and suddenly, you were aware of how he smelled like a bakery. Flower, sugar, apples, cinnamon, the whole nine. Your eyes widened when you smelled more of it when he shut his door. It smelled amazing. You didn’t want to be greedy, but whatever he had in there, you wanted a slice. 

   Your apartment smelled good, but in the opposite way. It smelled like sauce and spices and chicken, like a good kitchen. You almost laughed when you saw his eyes widen after he caught a whiff. His eyes scanned the table that was already set up for one, and he saw all the food in the middle and only grew more surprised. 

 “You did all of this yourself?” 

You didn’t think it was a big deal. You knew how to plate food and you knew how to cook it fine, but it wasn’t too special, in your opinion. It was second nature because of your mother, but you could always go for a nice compliment. “Yeah, I have fun cooking.”

  “It looks amazing,” he said softly, and you smiled at him. 

“Let’s hope it tastes as good.” 

It felt oddly domestic. You got his plate for him and watched him make his first because he was the guest, and you warned him about touching the hot pan, even though he didn’t seem worried about it with his gloves on. You asked him if he wanted wine, water, or soda, and he got his own glass of water after saying that he felt bad making you do it. By the time you sat down and started twirling your fork in your spaghetti, you were starving. 

 You heard him take his first bite more than you saw him do it. “Holy-” he put his hand in front of his mouth. “You made this here?” 

You laughed. “Mhm.” 

“Are you a chef, or something?”

You were flattered. “No, but my mother is,” and man, was she a cook. She could cook anything and make it taste good if you gave her a flame. Always, she had pressured you into knowing how to make a meal, because making a meal meant providing for yourself and everyone else in your family. You watched him cut into a piece of chicken and put it in his mouth, smiling when he gave you the “food look”. “She taught me everything I know.” 

“Well, I’m about to call her and thank her,” he joked, and you giggled, twirling your own fork and getting some spaghetti in your mouth. You tilted your head. It was pretty good. 

  “And what about you? You can bake,” and there he was, all shy again, and you loved it. “Where did you learn?” 

“My father’s a baker,” he said, and a slow smile spread across your face. 

“Well, would you look at that,” you said, nodding your head in thought. He smiled back. 

 “Would you look at that.” 

For a second, just like the two of you had done many times before, you were stuck in a world where there wasn’t anything else, not even the food. It was just his smile and yours, and the fact that somehow both of you knew that the moment was genuine. 

  “I’m so sorry, what’s your name?” He blurted, and you frowned. 

“My name?” A flame of embarrassment and shame shot through you. You were fawning over a man that you didn’t even know the name of yet. You sister would be disgusted with you. “Oh, have we really not said our names yet?” 

 “I guess not...” he said, voice trailing off at the end. 

“Well, good thing names aren’t that important.” 

He gave you an intrigued look. “Names aren’t important?”

“They can be, but sometimes they don’t mean a thing. You can learn so much about someone before learning their name, and when you do, nothing changes what you already know. I cook and I like spending money in book stores, and you bake and stay inside. That doesn’t change after we learn names.” 

 He looked like he had just reached cloud nine. “You like books?”

“Of course I do,” you said, and your eyes trailed over to the book that was sitting on your couch. “I actually took that little name bit from what I learned from a book, so I won’t take credit for that.” 

  “What book was so in depth and interested with names?”

“I don’t even think that the main focus was the name, I think it was the opposite. His name didn’t matter because all that mattered were the emotions that came with him.” You took a second to think. “And I also think that saying his name made it real for the main character, so the dude’s name didn’t come up until he was in mid conversation.” 

  At first, you were worried that you lost him. But you hadn’t. “He was in love with this person?” 

“Madly. But he was his best friend.” You were so excited. You were really talking to a man who liked to read? And one who liked to analyze what he read? This must have been heaven. “For a while, all we hear about is how amazing the person is that he fell in love with and about how he struggled with loving him because he was a man. We knew everything about him before his name was even said and before he was even present, and that’s probably what I like most so far about the book.” 

   Through your rambling, you failed to notice that he was looking more and more panicked. “Um, what’s the book called?” 

   “Here, I’ll just go get it,” you said, standing up and walking over to your couch, pulling it off and walking over to him. You set the book down, and watched his eyes grow so wide that he looked cartoonish. “Have you read it?” 

  He blinked at the cover. “Y-yeah, I’ve read it.” He looked at his watch, swore so emptily that you swore it was acting, and then gave you an apologetic look. “Um, I have to go. I’m sorry.”

  So, you did scare him off. You hid your frown with a polite smile, and tried to remind yourself that even though it felt like one, it wasn’t a date. It was you paying him back for making you something in his own kitchen. “Oh, alright. I hope you liked it.” 

 Maybe he heard something in your voice that you didn’t, because he stopped frantically putting his jacket on to look you in the eyes. “It was amazing, I mean that. And it was very sweet, thank you.”

  This is crashing and burning. What the hell happened? It was going so well! “Well, I’ll see you later,” you called out, and you watched him wash his own plate with a shocked look on your face. “Thanks,” you whispered, and he nodded at you, a tight smile on his face as he wrapped a gloved hand around the doorknob and left. 

***

Maybe you hadn’t scared him away, after all. 

You had full intentions of leaving him alone until he came to you, if it was ever even going to happen. You only left for work and debated on finding something simple to bake for him to extend another olive branch, but then you decided that you would let the universe control what happened, if anything was even meant to happen in the first place. There was a knock on your door, and there he was, with a pan of cupcakes that had blue icing perfectly swirled on top. 

  Alright, so you hadn’t. 

He gave you the cutest smile, and you couldn’t help but to give one back. “Hi, I’m Bucky.” You gave him your name, too. 

From then on, you two were practically attached at the hip. If you weren’t at work, he was over with you, watching a movie and talking about foreshadowing or how good the book version would have been if it came first. He was also one of the only people you knew who had actually read Tarzan, and you got a kick out of it. You got so close that you even met his little quartet of friends, Steve, Natasha, and Sam, who all liked you after the first meeting. You fit in with them like a glove. 

 Speaking of... “Why do you wear gloves?” You had asked him one day, and he stiffened up like a board. 

“I get cold easily on my hands,” he explained coolly, and you let it go. 

There were little things about him that you questioned every time after he went back home. You questioned how he never left his apartment but made enough money to keep it. You asked yourself how he was so busy in there, and what exactly he did. You wondered why he got so funny when you mentioned the book, and how nervous he was to talk about it when you finally finished it. All of those things slightly worried you, but they had nothing on the one, huge thought that loomed over all the others. 

 You were falling hard and fast for Bucky Barnes. A part of you could admit that you were already on the ground. 

  If started off slowly. You admired his mind and his smile and the way that his eyes shined when he taught you how to bake a perfect cake without all the fancy, expensive supplies. You loved the way that his cheeks glowed when you complimented him or touched his hair or his nose. You loved that he started calling you “darling” and the way that his Brooklyn accent left out the last letter. You loved the way that things with him already felt so natural, like you cooking dinner and him helping you wash and dry dishes after. You were in for the long haul before you could even reach for the door handle of the speeding car, and you didn’t really want to. 

   There was a knock on your door out of courtesy, and you called out for him to let himself in. You were way past knocking, but he was polite. You were tapping away at the keys on your laptop, humming to yourself as you looked into Jack Pendleton. 

  “Watcha doin’, darlin’?” He set down the items you two needed for homemade lasagna and his father’s recipe for some simple pumpkin bread on the counter. 

“I’m trying to find more books by Jack Pendleton,” you muttered, sighing when nothing else came up. “I can’t find anything.”

 “Why do you like that book so much, anyway?” You were far too into your laptop to hear the tremor in his voice. 

 “Because it was raw, and real, and it hurt my feelings.” 

Oh, and it had. Bucky witnessed the result of you finishing the book first hand. He walked in right as you got the first sob out and looked like he wanted to sink into the floor, but he came to you anyway. How were you supposed to know that the therapist, an equally important person in the main character’s life, was going to pass away not even days after he and Will got their happiness? 

  You remembered how he held you the whole time, and that for some reason, he whispered a very heartfelt, “I’m sorry.” 

  “If it hurt you so much, why would you want to read something by him again?” 

“It was brilliant, that’s why, cowboy.” You said, looking up and pointing at him with your fancy little stylus. He broke out into a smile at the name, like he always did. You called him that one time because you caught him watching The Longest Ride, and it stuck. 

  There was a stretched, tense moment as the sound of your typing filled the room. “I don’t think he has anything else out right now, darlin’.” 

“And how would you know, rancher?” 

He gave you that same deer in headlights stare that he gave you when he first saw you in the hall, only less confused. Then he sighed. “What’s in a name, anyway?” 

 You rolled your eyes, but you both knew that you were on the edge of laughing. You could never be serious with him. He was just so full of light. “You’re not going to get me quoting Shakespeare right now, I just asked you a dire question.” 

 He inhaled deeply, his face already boasting a rich scarlet. “How would you feel if I told you that I wrote that book?”

  Your world crumbled beneath your feet. You knew he wasn’t lying, because you knew that he had no reason to lie. His aversion to talking about Jack Pendleton and everything surrounding it made you believe what he told you right as you heard it. You gasped, and then saw him grimace. “Bucky, Jack stole your work?” 

  His face fell. “What?”

“Have you taken legal action yet?” 

  “No,” he said slowly, and then he took in another deep breath, preparing from something. “I don’t need to, because I am Jack.” He said slowly, a small and guarded smile resting on his face. You noticed that he looked the least comfortable you had ever seen him. “It’s a pen name.” 

  Different kinds of humiliation were coming in large, mean waves, and you bit your lip to prevent from talking. You had really gushed over a book right in front of the author the whole time? It was so horrible and embarrassing that you couldn’t even stop thinking about it. You felt like an idiot. “Why didn’t you tell me to stop talking?” 

There was a quick, hesitant intake of breath between the both of you. “Because I don’t want anyone that I know in real life to know about that.” 

You froze. There was no way that he was implying that what was in the book actually happened, right? 

 He took off both of his gloves, and beneath one of them was a silver appendage, very clearly a prosthetic. He was breathing heavily, like he had just lifted a weight off of his chest that was double his own size. You looked at it with a wild expression of your own, trying to make sense of what was happening. 

 “Almost everything in that book really happened.” You closed your mouth. “Some things are exaggerated, but nearly everything happened. Elijah is based off of me.” 

  Oh, fuck. That meant that he was actually bisexual, that he actually fell in love with his best friend, that he actually got his arm amputated after getting a grenade launched at him. His therapist actually died. You had no idea what to say. “I’m so sorry.” 

 “The main thing that didn’t really happen was the semi-happy ending for Elijah and Will. He and I broke up years ago. This all happened years ago.” Your heart broke again for him. “I put it under a fake name because it’s something very personal to me, but I felt like it should have been shared. Thought that it would maybe help some other kid who was going through it.” 

You knew exactly what it was. You had gone through it yourself. If you had read the book when you were much younger, you were sure that you would have been able to find some sort of peace in the turmoil that you caused yourself. Now, you were much better, and you loved the fact that you were part of the LGBT community, but that didn’t mean that the book didn’t mean something to you. 

The book was so raw that you should have known that it was real. There wasn’t a word that didn’t mean something, not a sentence that wasn’t thought out. It was such heavy material with realistic ups and down that you caught yourself relating with Elijah, not knowing that the real “Elijah” was right in front of you the whole time.

“But, um, I write science fiction under my real name, though.” You were too busy thinking about how you gushed about someone’s actual life story, and how that someone just so happened to be your super cute neighbor that you fell in love with. You gushed about his terribly sad life story right in front of him. “That’s why I’m always inside. I’m a hermit writer.” 

You didn’t even get into the science fiction aspect of the conversation. “I would have never read it in front of you or talked about it in front of you if I knew that, I swear.” 

“I know.” He slowly took his jacket off, and then you were seeing his arms in all their glory. It truly was a beautiful prosthetic, and from how much he used his hands, you knew that it was reliable and practical. “I just needed to tell you that.” 

You could sense his unease, and it made you feel wrong. It felt like you were taking steps back. “If this is about you being bisexual, I don’t care about that. That would never bother me.” 

 For the first time since his confession, there was a ghost of a smile on his face. “I know. And I know you are, too.”

“Really?”

“I’ve seen the bookshelf in your room. No straight person reads that many books written by and for the community. And you cuff some of your jeans.” You shrugged, a small smirk on your face. He got you there. “I need to tell you something else.” 

You didn’t know if you were ready for it, but if he was, then there was no way that you were going to stop him. “Of course, go ahead.” 

“First, I should start off with telling you again that all of that,” he pointed towards her computer, “was about eleven years ago. I’m not healing, not recovering, none of that. Yeah, I’m sad about my therapist every once in a while, but I don’t feel anything for the man that Will is based off of anymore. That’s all gone.”

You swore at yourself for feeling butterflies of hope. You squashed them all down and made yourself pay full attention to Bucky, even though your mind was starting to have stupid little fantasies about picnic and stargazing with him. This is what you got for reading romance novels. “Okay, Buck.”

“I’m telling you all of this because I’m pretty sure that I’m in love with you.” Your mouth hung open, and before you could even get a word out, he was all over it again. “I have been for a while now, and I think now is the best time to tell you.” There was a pause for you to cut in, but you couldn’t form a word. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way or if you’re weirded out by my story-” 

“I love you too.” You blurted, watching his face become shocked. “I’ve been dying to tell you that, you know?” 

He sputtered, trying his hardest to form a coherent sentence. “Now I know.” 

You felt a smile slide onto your face as both of your racing hearts stilled to a normal, content rate. In that moment, you swore that if someone came and checked, that your heartbeats were alternating, taking energy from each other to make one long beat. You just, clicked.

“It- none of that bothers you at all?”

“If anything, I feel bad. I feel like I intruded.”

He scoffed. “You didn’t intrude, Y/N, I’m the one who published it.”

“I’m going to hug you now,” you warned, and then you two met each other half way. Your face was in his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. You smiled when you felt him gently brush your forehead with his lips, and all felt right.

You stood there together for what felt like forever but two seconds all the same, swaying a bit subconsciously. “Are you- are you sure about being okay with all of this? I know it’s a lot. And I just kind of sprung it on you.”

There he was. The shy Bucky. You knew that he could be insecure, and you knew that he was insecure about being that way. But luckily, you felt for him so much that you could assure him for the rest of both of your days with no complaints. If it took a thousand times a day for Bucky Barnes to know that you loved him and Jack Pendleton and Elijah Harris, you would do it two thousand times.

 “Out of all the books in the store, I unknowingly chose yours.” Your voice was shaky, but you meant every word you said and were about to say. “And out of all the people in the world, I intentionally, without doubt choose you.” 

***

If someone had asked you three years ago where you thought you were going to be in life in the same amount of time, you would have told them that you were probably still going to be working in retail. That wasn’t the case at all.

  Your mother gave you a loan when Bucky persuaded you to take your talent and passion for cooking and turn it into a business. You had a medium sized restaurant that you let your mother in on, and you cooked side by side often times. It felt just like it did when you were back in the kitchen of your childhood home, but now you were getting paid for it, quite a bit. 

  Across the street from your restaurant was a bookstore that held a number of books that were written by Bucky yourself, but your favorite by far was the cook book that was technically a baking book, full of all of the recipes that he felt like giving away. 

  You didn’t expect any of that to happen within three years, at all. But what you hoped to happen most of all did, and it was proven by the simple diamond on your finger that Bucky had given you. You wanted him to think that you were surprised when he popped the question, but you weren’t. 

  After all, you could see the outline of the box that he carried for three weeks straight. 

[adam-banks2024]

Bliss

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: Adam steals you during a long study session to go play some hockey like the good old days.

The scent of parchment paper filled the Great Hall, along with that of fresh ink. You could see it shine on the paper if you were seated directly in front of a tall window. The most light comes through during sunrise and sunset, but at the time I’m studying, I wasn’t there during those hours. 

It was almost noon on a Saturday, but here I am, studying. These tables were a place I usually enjoyed, mostly because of the large quantities of food, but it soon had become the place that gave me migraines and a strong urge to doze off every now and then. 

Ever since I started my sixth year, the advanced potions class had turned into a monstrosity that I wasn’t sure I could handle. At first, it started with a few trips to the hall every month. Then it turned into weeks...and now I’m studying during most of my free time. 

I can’t understand why I’m struggling with this class in particular. In all of my other classes, I’m performing above average. Apparently, I just can’t get the hang of “the art that is potion-making.” God, if I hear one more uninspiring word from Snape I might jump from the Ravenclaw tower.

At this point I had been studying for at least four hours now, and I hadn’t even eaten anything that would resemble breakfast. Unless two stale crackers count. The best part about the whole situation is that I had only managed to memorize the ingredients of one potion in my whole time studying. One. So, still, I must persist. Because I do not want to spend a study hall with Snape. I let my grade fall once and suddenly I found out how awkward and unsettling an hour with the professor was. It’s not like he would even help me. He just told me to read from the book and stared at me the whole time. As much as I hate to admit it, having no time to relax was better than spending any extra time with Snape than I had to

As I reached across the table for more ink, a separate hand was already there. 

“Hey.”

 A long, dark robe hung from his shoulders, and a green and grey scarf was loosely wrapped around his neck. His cheeks and nose had a blush, while the rest of his face appeared icy. He carried a bag with him that had unorganized papers going every which way. 

“Oh hey, Adam. How’ve you been?”

Adam passed the vial to me and I dipped my quill. He put his belongings on the table and sat on the bench. 

“Pretty good. You?” He ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm the mess. 

“Eh. I’ve been better.” My voice was laced with tiredness and a pang of hunger. Nothing that would have been noticed, though. 

He paused for a moment and then spoke again. “What’s wrong, Snape got you down because he couldn’t meet for a study session?” 

I snorted. Me missing Snape? Yeah, sure, in his dreams. It took me a few seconds to compose myself before I responded. “No. Quite the opposite actually.” Adam hummed in response and gave a small laugh. 

Once the noise subsided there was an awkward pause. I was waiting for him to respond, and I honestly didn’t know what to say. I hadn’t had a decent conversation with the kid since the beginning of fifth year. Now we’re almost done with our sixth. I decided that maybe if I returned to my studies, he’d take that as an opportunity to drop the conversation. 

I hadn’t even gotten the chance to open my book before he cleared his throat. “Gosh, I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.” He leaned his arm against the table and rested his head in his palm, fingers twiddling with the feather of my quill. 

I sighed, slouching in the process. “Yeah. Social interaction has been foreign to me.” 

Adam moved his other arm to the table, resting his head in both hands now. “Well I’m glad that you were just studying and not being torn apart by the whomping willow.” 

“Haha, yeah. I think I would prefer the willow.” We both laughed, knowing that potions class was hell. Well, I assumed that he thought it was hell. 

“Ahh, don’t say that.” It looked as though he was trying to think of what words to say. Mouth opening and closing, eyes darting everywhere. He must have pieced together what he wanted to say.  “You should join me and the guys for some skating.” I shrugged my shoulders, not answering. I knew that if I entertained the idea at all then I wouldn’t be productive the rest of the day, so I decided to read over my notes to get my mind off the subject. Still, Adam persisted. “Maybe take away some of your stress?” I paused. A break sounded really nice, but could I really afford one right now, or even have enough energy? 

“I don’t know, Adam. I have an exam on Tuesday.” 

Adam stood up and walked around the table with a childlike bounce in his step. “C’mon, y/n, it’ll be fun. Just like old times.” Now he was sitting right beside me, his lip now forming a pout.

 “Well...I guess skating for an hour or two couldn’t hurt. What time were you thinking?” He pulled me up. “Right now!”

All of my belongings were still in the hall, but I don’t think Adam had any regard for that. He seemed extremely excited that I had agreed to go skating with him. Well, and other people. Obviously. It’s not like it was just an invitation with him. They probably just needed an extra player so the teams were even. Whatever the case, I was glad to leave my studies for a few hours. 

We earned glares from the portraits as we ran through the west wing haphazardly, bumping each other as we went. Giggling filled the air and it was just like it was a year ago. There was no awkwardness, no distance. It was like we had stayed in touch the whole time we were apart. I’ll have to make a mental note to not let that distance between Adam and I grow again. 

“So, this is where I leave you.” I smiled at him as I turned to enter the Hufflepuff common room. “Well, for a moment. I don’t really want to get yelled at for being in  another house.” Adam shifted his feet.

“Oh. lighten up, cake eater.” He didn’t say anything, just stared at me. “Okay fine. If you’re that much of a stickler to the rules, you can stay out here.” He gave a sheepish grin.

As I walked up the stairs to my dorm, I wondered how that kid was even in Slytherin. He follows the rules, he’s super kind, and he brightens the room. Then again, you find tons of kids who break their house’s stereotypes. 

I ended the thought as I reached to grab a coat, scarf, and my skates. It had been at least half a year since I used them, so there was no doubt that I would be a little rusty when I got back on the ice. Once I was all bundled up, I made my way back to the hall where I found an Adam Banks standing in the same position that I had left him.

He gave a small smirk as I exited. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

He hooked his arm through my arm and started to tow me to the frozen lake that was above the Slytherin common room. A blush drew to my cheeks, but I wrote it off as the scarf I adorned. Thankfully he didn’t notice. He was so focused on getting to the makeshift rink that I don’t think anything could have phased him. Not even Dumbledore in a bright, pink dress. 

The trek was long, but there wasn’t a lot of snow, so that made the trip more enjoyable. As we neared the lake, I could see the other guys in the distance. I could only make out Connie and Guy because they were holding hands, but there were four other people that I couldn’t see out on the rink. 

“Who’s all gonna be there today?” I looked up at Adam. The blush on his nose was even darker now because of the cold.

“Umm, Charlie. He had the idea in the first place. Averman wanted to come too. I think Connie and Guy. And then we asked Julie and Goldberg so we had goalies.” He smiled as he spoke, his love for hockey apparent.

Adam and I had played together when we were first years, but we hadn’t really known each other then. That’s where I first learned how to even skate. While I was still getting the bearings, Adam was already an extremely skilled player. When we were closer he used to tease me about it all the time, but he eventually stopped, and then just stopped talking to me all together. Maybe that’s why I’m so excited to go skating with him. After all, there’s no better feeling than reconnecting with an old friend.

The lake was pretty bare aside from two makeshift goals on the ice, and a few benches on either side. There weren’t any blue or red lines that we would have for actual games. Just plain ice. 

“And you’re sure the lake is frozen enough?” Images of me falling through into the chilly water invaded my mind. 

Adam shrugged his bag from his shoulder, “I’m a hundred percent sure. And if I’m not, I personally allow you to punch me.”

I rolled my eyes as I started to sit on one of the benches, putting a skate on. “Wow. how convincing.” He didn’t respond, so I just laced up my skates. Looking at the other people skating around, I wasn’t so sure how good I was gonna be. It had been at least three years since I’d really played a game of hockey, and you could clearly tell that these people practiced consistently. 

I stood up once I laced my other skate, and started to make my way to the ice. Much to my surprise, my balance wasn’t awful. I could successfully skate and stop without much effort. There were still times where I would wobble or need to regain my balance, but I should be able to hold my own. 

Adam brought me a stick and nudged my shoulder. I almost tripped, but I caught myself before anything else could happen. 

“You’re real funny, Banks.” I spoke through gritted teeth, still struggling to stay afoot. He offered both of his hands out to help me gain my bearings again. To my surprise, he started skating backwards, pulling me forward. I laughed, “where are we going?”

I could see Adam’s breath as he laughed with me. “To play, silly goose.” An amused expression was painted on his face while speaking, and he gave a big smile after. I started to skate with him instead of just letting him drag me along. After a moment, he just stopped. Because physics exists, I kept sliding and bumped into him. I almost fell but Adam grabbed me by the elbows before I could drop to the ice.

When he pulled me up, our faces were only an inch or two apart. The world around me seemed to fade until it was just Adam. Neither of us had said a word, we just stood there. Staring at each other. It was in that moment when I realized the blades of my skates were slipping on the ice. I didn’t really know why, because the lake was definitely frozen over, like Adam had said. It might have been because my knees had locked

Then I noticed the slight tug on my arms. I realised I was being pulled, not slipping. I was being moved at such a tiny rate that it was almost unnoticeable. Almost. As I neared Adam’s chest, I simply stopped breathing. My heartbeat sped, and I slowly started to lose my hearing. This feeling that I was only now feeling, had it been there the whole day? At the table, running through the hall, walking to the lake. Was it there the whole time? I was just to blind to have seen it. All of the time Adam and I had spent before we lost touch, was the feeling there too? 

Once there was no more room between him and I, Adam started to part his lips. My stomach was instantly in knots, and my mind preparing myself for the moments that were to come. Nothing else was said, and Adam closed his eyes. With no hesitation, he closed the gap between us, and pressed his lips against mine. 

There were no fireworks. No sparks, no pits in my stomach. Just pure bliss, as I kissed the boy that I met in fifth year.