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lizlet · 4 months

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2023, in bullet points

I find myself consumed by an assortment of random thoughts, as we reach the end of the year, and as the sun aims downward for one last sunset, I'm going to try sharing them... in the form of bullet points!

In January of 2023, I got to interview John Darnielle of The Mountain Goats, because he guest-starred on an episode of Poker Face and one of the cool things about working for a publication that's largely focused on music is that all I had to do to get his reps' info was ask a colleague. It was a good, fun interview, and he gave me his direct phone number in case I needed to ask him any follow-ups, and I actually did have something I needed to clarify. So I called him a second time, and during that second call, I told him the thing that I'd held back during that first interview, because I'm always on the fence about how much to say to people about how much I love their work: I told him how much I love the song "This Year," how I blast it every New Year's Eve and scream along in triumph, because it's so much easier to sing "I am gonna make it through this year if it kills me" on December 31st. I don't have a transcript of that second call, but I remember he took the compliment with practiced grace, saying something along the lines of "Thank you for saying that, because it means I know I did at least one thing with my time on this earth that helps people."

That's often what I think about, when measuring my accomplishments for the year — what are the things I did that made the world a slightly better place, on a big or large level?

I know I wrote a lot. Wrote stuff I was very proud of and wrote stuff I was less proud of, but sometimes that's what happens. Got into a good groove with Wren Graves at Consequence, who became my default editor early in the year and has proven to be annoyingly good at noticing when a piece could be better and pointing that out. It's good to have an editor who is a lovely and generous person and who also knows your flaws (like, for example, the fact that I maybe repeat words a little too often; if Wren were editing this, he'd send me back this paragraph with the word "good" in bold three times, and he would be right to do so).

Did a lot of interviews, even with the double strike shutting down a lot of opportunities, and checked a few people off the ol' bucket list. (I don't know why John Cho has eluded me for years, but achievement unlocked, thanks to The Afterparty Season 2.) It is still a bit baffling to the awkward-ass adolescent who lurks inside me that a significant part of my job is talking to famous people, and that I may be pretty good at it. (Sorry Wren.)

Hit my second anniversary at Consequence, an outlet that lets me get weird when the occasion calls for it and always offers up new challenges. (Got a couple of big challenges already in the works for January, which I'm doing my best not to think about until January 2nd.) It's a small but mighty team, and I'm happy to be working with them all.

Got elected to the position of secretary on the Television Critics Association board, which has also presented a wild new array of challenges, but the other board members are great and Winter Press Tour is on! ::knocks on any available wood nearby::

I tried as much as possible to be a person who says yes to things, especially if they might lead to wild new experiences. Saw more friends and more theater and live comedy than I have in years past, which makes me happy. (Especially when I can combine the friends WITH the theater and live comedy.)

Also got to spend a good amount of time with my family, who are cool people that I just genuinely enjoy spending time with. Even went on a gosh-darned vacation with them, to Ireland and Scotland, which was overall pretty magical. It's funny how when you're a kid, going on a bus trip to look at pretty scenery sounds very boring, and yet when you're an adult, that's just a really wonderful time.

Continued two streaks of approximately equal length: sobriety and daily usage of Duo Lingo. Both have been rewarding in their own unique ways.

Thanks in part to Duo Lingo, I learned how to type é and ü characters on a keyboard, which isn't a huge deal necessarily, but I have been typing on computers for nearly the entire span of my life (started around three or four years old) and so learning a new trick, after all this time, was pretty exciting. You go around thinking you know everything there is to know, and then you learn a new thing, and it makes you excited to find out what else there is to learn.

That's the energy I try to bring to every year, even a year like 2023, which on a global level was undeniably pretty garbage, especially the way it set the stage for 2024 being potentially worse. I donate money to big and small causes and take public transit whenever I can and only spend time on Elon Musk's Twitter when it's absolutely essential (someone has posted a link to an adorable cat video). I know I could be doing more. I hope I'm doing enough, and try to exceed "enough" when I can.

I had to take a break from writing this just now because I'm in the middle of my second-favorite New Year's Eve tradition: Doing laundry, so that when I get home after a casual hang tonight, I can curl up in my nice clean sheets and wake up like a big toasty cinnamon bun. Best way to start a new year, in my opinion.

While handling laundry, I've been watching The O.C., and it feels like a true portent of good things that my rewatch has brought me to the New Year's Eve episode, even though this means the arrival of Oliver, who I recall being Bad News.

Still, this reminds me to mention that the book I can't stop recommending to people right now is Ben McKenzie's Easy Money, a surprisingly fun read that left me almost feeling like I understand crypto (and definitely makes me think I understand the grotesque human cost of it).

That last bullet point also strongly indicates that I should try to read more books in 2024.

I'm writing this, like I write pretty much everything, in Evernote, and out of laziness I'm going to post it to Tumblr because that should be relatively easy, but I do want to write more personal stuff in the new year, and might look into setting up a new blog or (non-Substack) newsletter for such a purpose.

But I'm also continuing to work on novels — 500 words or so a day, every day I can, until it starts to add up to something. I've developed a lot of daily practices over the last two and a half years: I journal every morning, go running every other day, write my 500 words in the evenings after logging off work, and keep my Wordle and Duo Lingo streaks alive, amongst other things. And they all contribute to me feeling saner and stronger than I remember feeling during the worst periods of my life to date. Worse days may be coming. But I'm glad to be starting the new year with... well, with clean sheets, at the very least.

And before I go out for the night, I may jump around the apartment and sing.

Auld Lang Syne, bitches. Good luck to us all in 2024.

#in which our heroine #happy new year

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chierafied · 5 months

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December Drabbles Day 14 - All Downhill from Here

Read on AO3.

Banner fan art by the amazing @sayuri-liu

For Wiccan. The heart of our fandom. You’ve made it a home for all of us. 💖 Words and this silly little ficlet can’t begin to express my gratitude towards you and all your efforts and endless dedication to our ship over many, many years. Thank you, Wiccan. You’re the absolute best.

Prompt by Kriou90, thanks so much!

Day 14 - All Downhill from Here

The skiing instructor was perky and pink . Sesshoumaru wasn’t sure what to make of her and a part of him felt dubious. Especially of those bright pink pompoms of her hat, that matched the chunky-knit muffler wrapped three times around her neck. But the steady stream of cheerful chatter was taking his mind off from that nervous and peeved part that glowered in a dark corner of his brain.

Sesshoumaru hated learning new things. Or to be precise, he hated that awkward initial phase of learning something new; the part where he felt like a clueless, bumbling idiot. What he wanted was to excel but alas, to get to that point some bumbling around had to be endured.

Whatever could be said about his bubbly bubble-gum skiing instructor, she seemed to know her stuff. She’d guided him through getting the rental equipment and putting on the stiff and weird ski shoes. She’d given him an overview of the slopes. And dispensed such a wealth of tips and tricks on him that Sesshoumaru wasn’t able to remember them all.

And now they were standing on the top of the trainer slope, which looked like an anthill compared to the other ones. Sesshoumaru was starting to get nervous again.

"We're gonna practise the snowplough for a while," the skiing instructor told him with a bright smile. "Then we're going down all nice and easy and slow . We'll take all the time you need. And we're not going down until you're comfortable enough to try. Safety first, ok?"

Sesshomaru nodded, and the tightness in his throat eased, his shoulders relaxed the tiniest fraction at his instructor's reassurance.

"Great! I'll show you the snowplough now. It’s very simple."

Sesshoumaru watched raptly as the skiing instructor demonstrated the funny-looking pose.

"Now, your turn to try it out! Tails out, noses together. Make sure to leave a gap between your skis, though!"

Sesshoumaru tried to manoeuvre his skis into the right position. They still felt weird on his feet.

But his skiing instructor kept coaxing, encouraging and advising him. Gradually, his nervousness and awkwardness slipped away.

"I'm ready now," he informed her after a while.

"Great!" The instructor chirped. "Let's go down the hill! Remember to shift your weight to turn. And I'll be right behind you, so if you fall, I'll help you right back up."

That comment finally elicited an answering smile from Sesshoumaru. "All right. I'll be in your care."

What scattered crumbs of his nerves were left morphed into exhilaration as he made his way down the much too short slope. He might have been slow and his turns awkward, but the slide of the skis had been easy and smooth, the cold slap of wind in his face invigorating. At the bottom of the hill, Sesshoumaru turned to his instructor, grinning.

"I want to do that again. And go faster."

"That’s the spirit," she laughed. "Up we go!"

And so, they did.

Sesshoumaru loved every second of it, so much so that he stayed on the slope after his lesson concluded and he and his instructor parted ways.

He was almost reluctant to part with his skis when the time finally came to return them. The red-haired young man behind the counter accepted the skis and then slid a business card to him.

"Was supposed to give you this," he said and winked.

Sesshoumaru picked up the card. His eyebrow ached at the neat print of his ski instructor's name. Flipping the card over, he saw a handwritten phone number. And there, just underneath it, there was an intriguing addition in a looping scrawl.

"If you need instruction for the after-ski portion of the whole skiing experience, let me know. XO -Kagome"

Sesshoumaru grinned, thanked the young redhead, and pulled out his phone.

#sesskag #sesskag fan fiction #sesskag fanfiction #sesskag fic #sesskag december drabbles #chie writes #fic: sk

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twoidiotwriters1 · 1 year

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Copycat: Cryptomnesia —(Marvel Fem!Oc)

A/N: I know my promises feel empty but I PROMISE this story has a happy ending it’s gonna be so much worse first tho -Danny

Words: 1,354

Phase Five Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Listen to: ‘Oh My God’ -by Alec Benjamin

viii: Zero’s Last Mission

"It's simple," the guy, who introduced himself as Kazi, told her, "you stand there..." he pointed at the rooftop, "make sure no one comes after us."

Cat examined the earpiece he'd handed her and put it in her ear. "You're forgetting something."

Kazi gave her a thick envelope with money. "No mistakes or we'll take it back."

"You got it," she winked at him. "See you later. Hopefully not."

Cat sat on the ledge humming a song, she watched the men go inside the building, get the stuff, and go back to their truck. Far away from where she was, she caught a glimpse of Spider-man swinging across the city, she vaguely remembered patrolling with him for a few nights after moving into the Avengers tower.

It was funny, her time with Spider-man felt like a fever dream or a thing that'd happened a long, long time ago, but she'd worked with him last December, she remembered bits and pieces, she even had this crazy memory of him having two other heroes dress like him helping them out. He'd been a good friend at some point, she knew that much, but their paths had drifted apart.

He was a local hero, and there she was, a widely known agent but far from heroic. It should be noted that she was aware that the people she was helping weren't good. They had guns, and she hadn't seen the stuff they were transporting, but the less she knew the better, and at least it wasn't other people.

Cat wanted the night to be over, this was a low blow from Valentina, and possibly Yelena. They wanted her to know what kind of people had been paying for her services all those months so she couldn't feel free of guilt.

Cat tensed with an abrupt sensation of familiarity and talked to the others. "Someone's approaching, hurry up."

"Distract them."

"I'm afraid distracting won't do," she felt like her head was spinning. "This guy is pretty good at tracking down."

"Who is it?"

"Daredevil," she said, and her heart squeezed at the name. "You must be real shitty if he's here for you..."

Kazi urged his men into the truck. Daredevil was half a street away, he threw his baton keeping the back curtain of the truck open, and she had no choice but to act. Cat teleported and unstuck the weapon, then closed the curtain slamming it down.

She grabbed one of the guys on the truck and teleported him out, throwing him at the vigilante, she saw another guy run back to the truck's front and threw Daredevil's baton at his head, closing the door and muttering "Too slow".

"That was our driver!"

"Shut up," she hissed.

Cat turned on the ignition, she'd never driven anything that big except one of Tony's jets one time when she was helping out Spider-man.

"Turn right!"

Cat wrung the steering wheel, the vehicle tilted and one part of it bent a street light, but she didn't stop. "God, I hope I didn't kill anybody..."

"Have you done this before?"

"I can drive," she said grumpily.

"Not what I asked," Kazi yelped.

"You paid me to get your stuff out of the island and that's what I'm doing!"

"We lost two men!"

"What you need to worry about is them giving Daredevil the name of your boss, cause I bet he's after one man only and that's the rich guy that decided to get involved in organized crime—"

"LEFT! TURN LEFT!"

Cat drove like crazy until they reached the meeting spot. She teleported to the back, opening the curtain and urging Kazi and the other two guys to come and help her. She wasn't sure of how fast Matthew could be, but they had to leave soon.

"Mouse, any sightings of Daredevil?"

"Not yet."

"Tell me if you see him."

"Sure."

"That thing's like Iron Man's A.I?" One of the men pointed at her ear. "Where d'ya get it?"

"I made it."

The guy laughed. "Yeah sure, a government's bitch like you don't have the resources to do something like that."

Her eyes reflected the dim lights when she glared at him, he stumbled back. "An ass-for-brains like you would know that, right?"

"Hurry up!" Kazi intervened. "The ferry leaves in ten minutes!"

One of the guys took the truck away while Kazi and the man remaining climbed into the ferry to guard the cargo, stepping back to let her get in.

"Daredevil's entered the premises."

Cat backtracked. "Whatever you do, don't try to help. Leave him to me."

"But—"

"I don't wanna hear from you again."

Kazi didn't seem troubled by her orders. "Okay."

Copycat shifted into the guy that'd driven the truck away and waited. Daredevil showed up from the side, she drew out her gun and shot, the bullet scratched his helmet. Matthew jumped back, she tried to be as incompetent as possible without being too obvious.

Matt used his batons, and she did her best to keep him busy. He hit her in the face and the weapon made a loud metallic noise when it came into contact with her mask. ¡She was still wearing her mask! The woman kicked Daredevil and pressed the button on her earpiece, the sound of the nanotech folding on itself caught Matt's attention, and he tilted his head, lowering the weapons.

"Wha—"

Cat used her gun again, shooting at his feet several times to force him away from the dock, she just had to keep this up for another two or three minutes, enough so he couldn't get to the ferry. If she failed to get this done, they would give her more missions until they considered she could be released from her duties in a satisfactory way.

Matthew tried to disarm Copycat and made her drop the weapon twisting her wrist. With a loud, deep growl, she pulled out a pocket knife and got closer, aiming at Matthew's throat but moving slower than him so he could block the attack.

Daredevil used his arm to shield his face, then wrapped his hand around her throat, he wasn't holding back, and she was suffocating. Cat couldn't get away by teleporting or he'd know it was her, she searched the guy's mind to see if he knew self-defense but he was completely useless without a gun. She would have to cheat a little.

One of her hands —hairy ones that looked nothing like her real ones— reached out to take off Matt's helmet and the vigilante acted exactly as she'd expected, he threw her to the ground, then reached for her arm and twisted it on a weird angle.

Cat took a deep breath, and she pushed back to stand on both feet, using the top of her head to hit his chin and forcing him to let go. As she did, her shoulder popped out of place and she screamed.

The mutant looked at the ferry, already far from reach, and saw an opportunity to escape. She didn't wait to check if Matthew was okay, she hadn't heard any bones splintering except her own. The young woman could hear him chasing after her, but as soon as she reached a corner, she teleported back to her apartment.

Cat stumbled into the room with her arm tightly held against her. She startled Felix, who hissed at her and ran out of the room.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" She walked into the bathroom. "Fucking Matthew and his fucking need to get involved in fucking everything!" Cat looked at herself in the mirror, still in the body of a thirty-year-old man, and scowled at the sight.

"Mouse, a little help?"

"Grab your wrist and lift the arm in a straight line, pull forward as hard as you can, it should pop back in."

Cat needed to be brave for this one. "God really has a sense of humor, huh? Can't believe my own boyfriend did this—"

"You can pull now."

She pulled roughly, heard the bone popping back in place, and cried out a few more curses in the process. She shifted back to her normal self and pushed the brown curls away from her eyes. "D'you think Matthew knew it was me?"

"You were not wearing the suit, and you were also a man. Would be hard to recognize you."

"Not for a guy like him," she huffed, still rubbing her shoulder. "I gotta fix myself up before he comes..."

Next Chapter—>

Taglist.

@mikaelsonwhxrebae @ieatpanicattacksforlunch @jesuswasnotawhiteman @siriuslysirius1107 @greengarsstuff @itsyagirl01 @23victoria @espressopatronum454 @jkthinkstoomuch

#twoidiots writing #marvel #marvel fic #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #copycat fic

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problematicfanfics · 1 year

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alright i only just noticed you had a tumblr and felt obligated to say something so

i just want to say that i’m a huge fan of your writing and works, and have been for years. i first found out about your stuff back in november or december 2020 (??) a little bit after I Threw Glass At My Friend's Eyes and Now I'm On Probation was first published, since i had been absolutely in love with tombur at the time and scavenging the ao3 tag 24/7 to see if anything new came out, and i was instantly hooked. i have so much to say about it and no way to put it into words, but the whole general concept surrounding it is so interesting and alluring, everytime a new chapter was posted and i’d read right until the end and then it’d be stuck lingering in my mind for literal days on end. every cliffhanger that was left had me so excited for what was next, excited to see whether wilbur would finally be confronted or not. the fic meant and still means so much to me, it’s taken up so long of my life to the point that its probably something i’ll still remember even when i stop consuming poppy or mcyt content. i’ve been so obsessed with the fic that the song it’s based off of was quite literally my #1 song of 2021 all because of it, and was within my top 100 this year too. i’m legitemately grateful for you writing it, because it both got me into Destroy Boys and gave me so much joy for so long.

this is more an amalgamation of me rambling about how much it means to me, so i apologize about how cluttered and disorganized it is, but thank you for writing. your stuff has helped me with a lot of my life ♥️

i’m gonna cry. i hope u understand that i just finished the chapter today because of this. i literally wrote through a wake at church because of the motivation this gave me. is that bad? probably. but the entire family hated the guy anyways

thank you, you specifically as well as everyone who has stuck around, for, well… sticking around i guess. for leaving me comments, asks, messages, friend requests, texts (to those of u ik well), for motivating me.

it’s been over a YEAR since i updated. and even then, by april 2021, updates were very few and far between. so truly no NEW chapters have really come out and when they do it’s ~1,200 words every three months. but y’all still check in, and not only that, LEAVE COMMENTS. even though it’s been silence since october 23rd, 2021 (i missed oct 22 like an idiot last year AND this year), you guys come back. thank you. it’s been TWO YEARS since the release and i’m no where near done and i’m so sorry to any of you who care enough.

ー

but thank you everyone for checking in, offering help, reading, helping me brainstorm. thank you rad, even though we don’t talk much anymore i have u on snap and i still message u time to time. thank u fello, for being amazing and always supporting me, constantly my #1 supporter and lover. Tater, my love who i message at least once a week, idk where id be without u. and all those “anti”s from 2020 i still talk to to this day, i passed my psych test w a 67% 🦅‼️🙏

i’m blasted. this is long. i had a shit day today, with church and my family being a shit show, and this really made me pick up my head and do what i always do: say “fuck it, we ball” and keep moving on.

so fuck it, we ball, thank you anon.

ANYWAYS here’s some church shit from today i found funny

#problematicmcyt #poppytwt #problematic #problematictwt #askver #problematicfanfics #tombur #poppyblr #ver's serious discussions #point me to the nearest problematic pit stop pls

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lacharcutiere · 3 years

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falling so soft [sawamura daichi]

1k words

previous | masterlist | next ➪

part two of i’m gone i’m gone i’m gone miniseries. time zones suck. being too busy to facetime sucks. not getting to have him as your new years kiss sucks. distractions… actually, those might be okay. but that’s to be determined.

^ if u got the ronny cheng reference lol i love u 👽 anyway, i did not plan that last bit out but,, THE PLOT THICKENS hehehe:)) also oops for having this up 2 hours late lol i totally forgot to queue it

JST: japanese standard time (GMT +9). EST: eastern standard time (GMT -5). EDT: eastern daylight time (GMT -4). man i hate daylight savings time why do we have to switch between the two, hopefully no one notices if i fucked up the math but if u do pls just ignore it <3

tings // fluff, lil bit of soft angst // i swear this søng is abøut eating øut my best friend’s pussy - cøzybøy // dm, ask or comment to be added to the taglist ! minors dni.

☾𓆙𓂻

— MOVE-IN DAY: 29 AUGUST 2021. 08:14 EDT.

your roommate is a talkative, ever-energetic, pretty half-russian girl named alya. she's from new jersey, you learn, just across the river. the two of you are a good match in energy, and she's easy to talk to. you'd chatted a couple times before over instagram, and the tiny bit of japanese she knew combined with your functional knowledge of english has made for conversations that flow easily from subject to subject.

you tell her about daichi, show her pictures of the two of you together from graduation, the summer—whatever you can find. she immediately loves the two of you together, excitement seeming ready to bubble over at how cute you must be, and you need to remind her over and over that you're just friends with him for now.

— 16 NOVEMBER, 2021. 10:23 EST.

according to the new york natives, this year's first snowfall is early. usually, alya tells you, it doesn't snow before thanksgiving.

— CHRISTMAS CARDS, DECEMBER 2021

from daichi (written 16th december, received 22nd december. opened on christmas day, 00:03 eastern standard time.)

from you (written 12th december, received 18th december. opened as soon as it arrived, 17:14 japan standard time.)

— 18TH DECEMBER, 2021. 23:03 JST, 09:03 EST.

you wake up to your phone buzzing on your bedside table, rubbing your face groggily as you fumble for it and see who it is.

“of course you’re still my favorite,” is the first thing he says as soon as you accept the call. and then, “oh shit, did i wake you up? i’m so sorry—“

you cut him off with a sleepy laugh, assuring him that no, it’s okay, for him you don’t mind.

"d'you get the card yet?" he sounds so excited, almost childlike; it's adorable, and you can't help but laugh some more.

"i did," you say, "but i'm saving it. i'm gonna open it on christmas."

he snorts. "i say open it now. i opened yours as soon as i saw it."

"yeah, but i'm talking to you now, i wanna save it so i have new things to hear from you even if you can't call."

"who says i won't call?"

"no one, but just in case."

— CHRISTMAS DAY 2021. 00:12 EST, 14:12 JST.

daichi's about to second guess calling you when he remembers you never go to bed early if you can help it, and especially not while you're off school. and, speak of the devil, his phone rings right then.

"hey." it's dim in your room, but he can hear the smile in your voice and that's all he needs.

"hey."

"i opened your card."

"did you, now?"

"mhm." you must be in bed; he can hear you nuzzling down into a downy comforter and yawning. it's adorable. "i miss you."

"i miss you, too."

there's silence on your end of the line for a while, save for breathing and blankets shifting around, and daichi takes it as his cue. "get some sleep," he tells you, "i can call you again tomorrow."

he hears you sigh—such a pretty sound—and then you speak again, barely above a whisper. "daichi?"

"hm?"

"can you just... stay on for a bit? just, like, until i'm asleep?"

and he laughs a little, but (unbeknownst to you, passed out within the next few minutes) he doesn't hang up for another hour.

— NEW YEAR’S EVE 2022. 23:58 JST, 09:58 EST.

he calls you just in time for the beginning of the new year (at least, where he is). it’s funny, you point out, how for thirteen hours you’ll be living in two different years. time zones are a bitch.

— 23:55 EST, 13:55 JST.

“welcome to 2022,” he says with a laugh when he picks up the phone. “‘s been pretty uneventful so far.”

— 16 FEBRUARY 2022. 09:55 EST.

a guy in your calc class comes up to you after a lecture and asks you if you’re single.

he’s not unattractive, and he’s smart. you’ve chatted a couple times and he’s always been easy to talk to. he’s funny, and he’s an international student from japan, too. you don’t know what to say at first; you wonder what daichi would want you to say. but you remember, you’re just friends for now.

you tell tōru yes.

— 11:03 EST, 01:03 JST.

feeling unbelievably guilty as you wait for your phone to ring while sitting on a bench outside the dining hall, you wonder what you're even supposed to tell him. that there's someone else? that you want to try seeing other people? how can you soften the blow without sounding like you're trying to make excuses for yourself? and it's not like your heart isn't still set on him and him only, but how can you possibly convince daichi of that?

so you're incredibly surprised to find out that daichi almost... doesn't mind. you don't miss the way his voice tenses up a little after you tell him, but you know that whatever he says, he's always honest with you. he even almost laughs at you for how stressed you seem.

"friends, remember? 's okay. it doesn't mean you can't see other people, just that we can tell each other whatever. and that i'll support you."

"you're not jealous?"

he pauses for a second, thinking, before saying, "i mean, honestly? i am, i guess." he stops again and you don't say anything, almost afraid. "but whatever we are, if you're happy, then it's okay. and tōru's a good guy." he huffs a short laugh. "if he were a shitty person, that'd be a very different story."

that's another surprise to you; apparently he and tōru were at least somewhat acquainted with one another. volleyball, daichi tells you.

small world.

☾𓆙𓂻

when you finally end the call, realizing how late it is in japan and that he must be needing to go to bed, you can't tell whether you feel less guilty knowing that he doesn't think you're in the wrong, or more guilty knowing that he's willing to sacrifice his wants for yours.

taglist: @sakruisin-thru @softetsurou @oligbia

#haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu series #sawamura daichi #daichi x reader angst #daichi x reader fluff #daichi sawamura #daichi x reader #i’m gone i’m gone i’m gone #OH SHIT????#THE PLOT THICKENS >:))))#ignore this tag but #t*ru o**k*a

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darkacademicfrom2021 · 3 years

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The Adventures of Silvertongue and Olive

<<Previous part Masterlist Next part>>

A/N: I'm planning on making them travel to Midgard often, but I wanted to start by Argentina because I'm from there :) I accept requests if you want your place to be visited by them.

7 - It takes two to mischief

“I’m very bored”, said Loki, sitting backwards on the library’s velvet couch. He was hanging from the armrest and his hair touched the floor. Olive wondered how his face wasn’t red yet. He didn’t take his eyes off the book, and answered in a monotone voice,

“I’m aware”.

They stayed comfortably silent for a while, letting the sun set outside until the only glimmer to illuminate Olive’s book was the crisping flames of the chimney. It was so cold, Olive’s nose was pink and his fingers were numb. He reached closer to the fire, and suppressed a shiver. Loki brought a blanket over his shoulders, rubbing his hands over Olive’s arms and shoulders, making friction to warm him up.

“How are you not freezing?”, he laughed, and Loki shrugged his shoulders.

“We could go somewhere warm, what do you say?”.

“Like where?”.

“You never visited Midgard, yes? In some parts the air boils there”.

“I’ve visited once, it was snowing. Pure ice. Antarctic, I think”, he recalled. Loki made a map appear and Olive reached to see too. He pointed, “right here”.

“It’s almost December there. Do you want hot hot? Or slightly hot?”.

“Not too much. I hate being sticky”.

“Let’s see some Latin America parts. I’ve already visited Mexico, Colombia… some other parts, but those two were very, very hot. We could go to Chile. Or Uruguay. Or Argentina. It’s hot, but not infernally hot. What do you think?”.

“I say roll the dice”.

Loki and Olive finally decided on Argentina. They sneaked out of the Palace around midnight and asked -begged- Heimdall to not tell anyone where they were going. Frigga had grounded them the morning after Thor’s second bachelor party, when she walked in Loki’s chambers to see the three princes barely breathing. She could drown in the mead’s scent that their snorings emmanated, and called it enough for a while. Passing the thousand and still needing to be grounded. Big boys, already! Let the joyless set in and learn a lesson. But of course they would not let “the joyless” set in.

They not only stayed the night, but also enjoyed it to the best. Drank fernet con coca until their brains buzzed, walked through some cities and pranked people with the python. The sun rised and the heat increased. Loki started to feel lightheaded, dizzy, and out of breath.

“Are you alright?”, asked Olive, very worried. Loki seemed terrible.

“Of course. Now, come, I want you to try this thing. It’s not alcoholic and it’s like a really bitter tea, with a metal straw, and you drink it until it makes a funny sound. And now that I remember, we haven’t eaten anything yet”.

“It’s fine, I think we should get going. You seem…”.

“We should try their meat. They have this tradition where they do asados, which means roasted meat. It actually only means roasted, but you roast mainly cow. Do you eat meat?”.

“Not really. Vanir don’t eat meat, and…”.

“It’s okay, you can put vegetables on it too. Let’s go, we can make some friends on the journey. I know a Mariana who can help us make it. She’s such a sweetheart, and so intense. I can barely manage spanish, I studied it for fifteen years. We’re gonna need Allspeak. Do you have it?”.

“Can you breathe? You look pale”.

“I told you I’m fine”.

They met Mariana and her baby, ate and drank, danced, walked around, and laughed the whole day. Not even once, they remembered they had to go back to the Palace at some point.

Heimdall sweated buckets, seeing how they watched bad movies and karaoked with Midgardians, while Frigga panicked over the disappearance of both of the young princes. She knew they escaped the night, but, why weren’t they back yet? Heimdall promised he wouldn’t say a word, but Frigga insisted more and more, and he finally gave in. He couldn’t lie to his Queen, and Loki was in quite a state.

Meanwhile, they went to the centre of Buenos Aires and visited some theatres with parodic adaptations of Shakespeare, and walked through a famous trade fair of the city, where they selled the most expensive handicraft objects they’ve ever seen.

Most things were made out of leather, but, according to Loki, nothing compared the magnificent asgardian leather, so he promised Olive to visit some other trade fair from Asgard. Although he did buy some Mafalda comics and a very pretty knife set, with the wood of the handle carved meticulously. He thought it was very well done, so he buyed the whole stand. The seller man barely passed out. They came back to Mariana’s place after a few hours because Olive insisted Loki needed to rest somewhere with AC.

Loki’s cheeks became redder, his lips were completely dry and he sweated so much, he had to drink more mate to avoid dehydration. Though, the hot beverage seemed to only make him worse. Olive was trying to throw wind at him, but his nature magic worked better on Vanaheim, and the wind was too soft and maybe even a little warm. Mariana was losing her mind. How could a God get so sick from a little hot weather?

Frigga landed on Mariana’s terrace and the Bifrost left a mark all over her garden. When AllMother broke into the place, not as angered as worried, the princes swallowed hard, knowing damn well how terrible a punishment from her could be.

“Mother”, whispered Loki, hiding his bad state, “we’re terribly sorry”.

“Loki, for the Norns, how many times must I repeat myself? You can’t be in such warm places, you faint! The healers said your pressure is too low for this!”, she hissed, and grabbed both of them by the arms, looking up to Heimdall to take them back.

“Chau, Mariana, ¡nos vemos la próxima!”, he said without using Allspeak, and she laughed at his rough accent. “Gracias por todo, muy amable”.

“Vuelvan cuando quieran”, she answered, and Frigga gruntled.

“Forget it, they’re not coming back anytime soon”.

Loki winked at her. They were so coming back.

(Taglist: @lucywrites02, @louieboo87, @the-departed-potato, @jesuswasnotawhiteman, @idontknow296, @beksib, @spythoschei, @geekwritersworld, @whatafuckingdumbass, @mysticunicorn7 @shadowolf993, @joscelyn02, @t00-pi, @selfship-mishaps, @sallymagnoliaposts, @deadgirl88, @enderslove)

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magniloquent-raven · 4 years

Note

Number 73 "take mine" I'm thinking jacket sharing with Harringrove (either offering the jacket) if you have time!! 💖 💖

so. it’s not jacket sharing, i hope that’s okay!! and it’s actually a sequel to your first prompt? @bambixxblue and i were talking about a fix-it sequel where billy comes back and im weak for fix-its so i ended up with this. it’s. angsty. but also. soft? idk, i hope u like it anyway!!

basically the premise is billy and hopper were both in russia and had to break out together. posted on ao3

—-

Max turned seventeen three weeks ago. It’s hard to keep track of the days sometimes but Billy’s pretty sure he’s right. It’s hard to wrap his brain around Max being seventeen. When he pictures her in his head she’s still a bratty twelve-year-old with skinned knees who doesn’t know when to shut her mouth.

He tells Hop. Tells him about the birthdays he was there for, wonders about the ones he wasn’t. Cries a little too. Funny how easy it is to do that now. It used to be an ordeal, would burn and claw at him until he broke. He’s too exhausted for that nowadays, lets his tears fall unfettered and ignores the shame that still sneaks up on him when he does.

They have to be quiet, always afraid of being caught again. Billy’s constantly looking over his shoulder, jumping at shadows. It’s stupid to risk it, for something so trivial, but he can’t stop the words from spilling out.

“You miss her.” It’s not a question. Hop doesn’t ask that kind of shit, he just knows. Which is why Billy doesn’t respond. Doesn’t have to.

He pats Billy’s shoulder awkwardly. It’s the clumsy kind of affection a father is supposed to offer and it sets Billy off again, tears dripping down his nose and cutting streaks through the dirt smeared on his cheeks.

They’re holed up in an abandoned warehouse this time. Waiting. Always waiting. The plan is to stow away in the next cargo hold with enough space but in the meantime they’re fugitives, laying low wherever they can find empty, forgotten places.

Hop tells him about El while they wait. Billy’s heard most of his stories by now, but he listens anyway. Listens to the wobble in his voice as he talks about teaching El to read, hears the question under it all, about whether he’ll ever see her again.

Billy wishes he had an answer.

The first time Billy set foot in Hawkins, Indiana, he was seventeen, angry and wanting nothing more than to be anywhere else.

It’s three days after his twenty-second birthday the second time. An icy December evening, dark and windy. He’s exhausted. He hasn’t eaten in two days. He’s a patchwork tapestry of scars that weren’t there before, a battered effigy of the person he used to be, cobbled together with scraps of what he could salvage.

Hawkins is the same unremarkable, rinky-dink town it always was. Seeing it again is a relief and a punch in the gut all at once. It’s all he’s wanted for three years, but it’s terrifying.

They end up in Loch Nora, of all places. The Byers’ old house was empty, and going too far into town is risky.

It doesn’t feel real. Standing on Steve Harrington’s front porch, suddenly all too aware of the layer of sweat and grime on his skin. This place is too clean, too quiet. Peaceful, in a way that can’t be true.

Billy chews on his thumbnail, stands behind Hopper while he bangs on the door. There are no cars in the driveway, which means at the very least Steve’s parents won’t answer the door. But there’s no guarantee that Steve even lives here anymore.

He’s getting antsy, glancing around, heart pounding.

Then the door swings open.

Billy is seventeen, half-drunk and stinking like beer, colder than he’ll let on because fucking Indiana and its shitty weather, wiping the drool from his chin when he spots him across a room, already half in love by the time he’s clambered over a couch to get a closer look.

He blinks. He’s twenty-two, pale and shivering, thumbnail still between his teeth, and Steve Harrington’s doe eyes still make him weak in the knees.

Steve’s hair is longer, brushing his shoulders, but other than that he doesn’t look any different. Except that he isn’t looking at Billy with thinly veiled contempt or anger.

“Hey, kid.” Hopper says. “Gonna let us inside, or what?”

Steve is silent. Staring, lips parted. One hand still on the doorknob, the other slack at his side. He sways dangerously, and Billy tenses, prepared to catch him if he falls over. He doesn’t, but Billy’s still itching to touch him.

“Am I dreaming?” Steve blurts, looking dazed, unable to decide who to look at and ending up unfocused and hazy.

Yeah, it’s me, don’t cream your pants. The memory feels like someone else’s. A lifetime ago.

Billy bites down on his lip, battling an inexplicable, and slightly hysterical, urge to laugh.

“Dream about me often, Harrington?” Billy says, because apparently it takes more than nearly dying and spending three years as a fugitive to get over his inability to keep his mouth shut around pretty boys (or one in particular). Though now his voice comes out soft, quiet, betraying genuine sentiment. He’s not sure if that’s better or worse than the armor of taunts he used to cover that shit up with.

Probably worse.

Steve’s looking at him. Only him. Billy had almost forgotten how addictive that is. He watches Steve’s mouth open and close, tracks the way one corner curls up a little when he lets out a little disbelieving huff that isn’t quite a laugh. “More than you’d think,” he murmurs.

And Billy’s brain shuts off. There are a thousand questions stuck up there, but he can’t get a single one of them out because he’s too busy trying to get past, more than you’d think, echoing through his head in surround sound.

He’s startled out of his Steve-induced haze by Hopper’s pointed cough.

It seems like he’s not the only one, because Steve visibly flinches, “Right, shit,” he stammers, “Get—uh, get inside.” He ushers them in, glancing around, checking the street behind them.

The Harrington residence is one of those big fancy houses with more rooms than anyone could possibly need, but that means multiple bathrooms so Steve (as politely as possible) tells them they can both shower whenever they feel like it. And he fusses. A lot. All nervous hands clutching his elbows and teeth worrying at the inside of his cheek, eyes darting between Billy and Hopper like he’s sure they’ll vanish any second and never have been there at all.

Billy isn’t sure how to deal with it, so he avoids his eyes. Then misses looking at him.

An hour later they’re all in the kitchen. Billy keeps plucking at the sleeve of his borrowed sweatshirt, trying to keep calm. It’s too much, all at once. His skin feels raw, weird and tight. The overhead light is too bright, and the smell of Steve on everything is making him lightheaded. The soft detergent scent from his clothes, the shampoo Billy used when he showered (his hair is a lot longer than it used to be, it took forever to detangle it all).

Steve makes some calls. It’s late, too late to be calling people’s houses but he does it anyway.

Not long after, the front door bursts open.

Max is taller than he remembers. Rougher around the edges. Her hair is a choppy mess, auburn waves sticking out in every direction, curling around her ears, and there’s the sharp glimmer of silver in one lobe. She’s wearing a jean jacket with a torn elbow.

And she’s crying, messy and red-eyed, not bothering to wipe the snot from her nose.

“Where. The fuck. Have you been?” she sobs, shoulders shaking, and she practically trips forward in her hurry to throw her arms around Billy’s neck.

He opens his mouth. Closes it again. Feels unsteady, like he’ll fall to pieces if he moves wrong.

“I’m here now,” is all he can manage. She doesn’t need to hear about military hospitals and Russian prisons, about being kept in a cell, wondering if he’d ever see sunlight again… She doesn’t need that right now. Hell, he’s not ready to talk about it. Might never be.

He hugs her back, torn between wanting to squeeze as hard as he can, make sure she’s real, and being terrified of breaking her.

She still uses that shitty coconut-scented soap, and that’s what shatters him. He’s crying into her shoulder, clutching the back of her jacket. He used to dwarf her, remembers her being tiny and fragile, despite her fierceness, yet now she’s supporting his weight while he buckles.

They’ve never actually hugged before, he realizes, and that realization opens a door he wishes he could’ve left closed a little longer.

Guilt. Like undertow, pulling him back to harsh reality, cold steel gripping his heart, weighing it down. He should’ve been better. Treated her better. And now she’s here, crying like she actually missed him, and he doesn’t deserve it.

He pulls away, wiping the back of his hand across his eyes.

She’s still looking at him, hands on his shoulders, a wobbly smile on her face.

Billy is overwhelmed again. It must show, because suddenly Steve is at Max’s side, eyes gentle and his soft mouth pinched in a frown, “Max. Maybe give him some space.”

She clenches her jaw, probably physically holding back an argument, and nods, stepping back despite the reluctance written all over her face.

“I’m sorry,” Billy says, barely louder than a whisper. Then he can’t stop himself from saying it, again and again, gaze fixed on the floor, tears still dripping down his chin. He has to bite his lip hard enough to draw blood to finally stem the tide of apologies. He squeezes his eyes shut, tries to will the world away.

“Billy.” Steve’s voice is soft. He has a nice voice, so Billy focuses on it, through all the angry buzzing in his ears. “Billy, I need you to nod if you’re listening.” He doesn’t want to, he wants to curl up and fucking die, anything but be a person right now because everything hurts and there isn’t enough air in this room and— “Billy?”

He bows his head, twitches, it’s barely a nod but it’s all he’s got.

“Okay, good. Can I touch your hand?”

Billy’s heart stutters, aches. He’s having a hard time concentrating through the burn in the back of his throat, the static drowning out his thoughts. He nods again.

Steve’s fingers are gentle, pulling Billy’s hand from where it had tangled in his hair. He hadn’t noticed the fingernails digging into his scalp until Steve took one of his hands away. It ends up pressed against something warm, soft material under his fingers, moving slow—oh. His hand is on Steve’s chest.

“Can you breathe with me? Concentrate on me, okay?”

He does.

Steve’s cradling his hand. He’s got callouses along the top of his palm, barely there but present. He’s breathing deep, calm and steady. But despite his outward demeanour his heart is racing, Billy can feel it through his shirt. He curls his fingers into the sensation, fingertips digging in as far as he can push them.

Billy almost forgets to breathe he’s so fixated on Steve’s heartbeat.

It does its job either way though, because exhaustion is starting to hit him as the static recedes. He sags, relaxes. Every muscle in his body feels leaden.

He opens his eyes, squints against the sudden light.

He’s almost afraid to look up. Afraid of being judged, of triggering another episode, so fucking terrified, all the time—

“Billy?”

His fingers twitch reflexively, tightening his grip on Steve’s polo.

“You good?” His voice is still so soft, and so close it hurts.

It takes several long moments for Billy to collect himself. Then he looks up.

Max is hovering, standing behind Steve with wide eyes, her worry palpable. Hopper looks grim, but then again, he kind of always does. He’s a respectable distance away, watching. And Steve… Steve is right there still, holding Billy’s hand and looking at him like he cares, doe eyes shining, fixed on Billy’s face.

“I’m okay,” Billy says, voice rough. He sounds like hell, but they all visibly relax anyway.

The room is silent for too long after that. It feels tense in a distant way, like it would be awkward if Billy had the energy to care, was awake enough to feel anything but vaguely fuzzy. He’s still got a handful of shirt and doesn’t plan on letting go any time soon. Steve’s the only thing keeping him upright, and he hasn’t let go either.

“Did… did I do something wrong?” Max asks, her voice is small and tremulous and cuts right through Billy.

“No!” he’s quick to cut in, “No. Max. It’s…” Billy trembles, stutters to a stop. He has no idea how to explain, even to himself, let alone Max. Steve squeezes his hand. His stomach flips. “It’s not your fault.”

She doesn’t look like she believes him, but she doesn’t argue. He wishes he could make it better, but he’s got no idea how.

“We should all get some sleep,” Steve says.

And that’s that. His tone brooks no argument, even in a room full of stubborn assholes. Apparently, the past few years have given Steve time to hone his babysitting skills. Or maybe they’re all just as exhausted as Billy is.

There’s some squabbling about sleeping arrangements though.

Everyone insists Hopper take the master bedroom, Steve says his parents won’t know or care, his old friends did worse than sleep in that bed. They all poke at him until he relents and trudges off, bidding them a quiet goodnight.

Then Billy says he’ll take the couch and both Steve and Max yell at him.

Billy rolls his eyes. “It’s fine, guys,” he mutters. He’s not about to make Max sleep on the weird little couch (he’s done enough to her already) and putting Steve out in his own house would be shitty. “It’s not like I haven’t slept on worse.” He winces as he says it, realizing as the words come out of his mouth that it’s probably the wrong thing to say. It was meant as a reassurance, that he would in fact be fine with the couch, because at least it’s clean and warm, but all it does is make Max look sad and put a little wrinkle between Steve’s eyebrows.

“I’ve slept on this couch before,” Max says, a stubborn tilt to her jaw, “I’ll take it.”

Steve scoffs at that, “You complain every time you have to sleep on that couch, Max. Take the guest bed. Billy can take mine.” His fingers tense when he says it, and Billy realizes they’re still holding hands. His hand slipped from Steve’s shirt while they were bullying Hopper into taking the master suite, but Steve has yet to let go.

And… suddenly he wants nothing more than to sleep in Steve’s bed. But. “Only if you come with me,” he blurts.

Which is really not how he should have said that, but it’s out there now.

“Oh my god,” he hears Max mutter.

His whole head feels like it’s on fire. “Shit. I—I mean—”

“Okay,” Steve says hurriedly, then clears his throat, “Yeah. That. That works. Uh. Okay.” He’s glancing at Max awkwardly, nervous, but she just rolls her eyes. Billy barely notices her do it, too busy looking at Steve, his heart hammering.

“Steve, it’s okay. I’m—” It’s her turn to look uncertain, but it’s only for a second. “Me and El are dating. We’ve been trying to figure out how to tell everyone, and—yeah. Anyway. I’m not going to judge you, or whatever.”

Well, that was not at all what Billy was expecting. He takes a moment to worry about both of them, be terrified of what would happen to them if someone found out. Then he remembers that El can kill people with her brain and Max once threatened to castrate him with a spiked bat. The knot of anxiety doesn’t dissipate but he’s freaking out less.

“How long has that been going on?” Steve asks, sounding more bemused than anything.

Max turns pink, and it’s kind of fascinating to watch. She’s flustered. That’s adorable. “Since, um. Since April.”

“Happy for you, kid,” Billy says. And he means it. He barely knows El, in theory, but really. The kid’s been in his head. He could recite every story Hopper’s told him about her from memory. He died protecting her.

He knows her well enough to know she’s good for Max, and he loves Max enough to want her to have good things.

She grins, bright and real. Billy’s fairly certain he’s never seen her that happy before, and his heart clenches.

“I’m not sure who I’m supposed to give the shovel talk to here,” Steve says, more to himself than anything.

Billy snickers, and tugs on Steve’s hand, “Like you could take either of them.”

Steve steps closer, looking faux-offended, “I’ll have you know I won a fight once.”

“Yeah, three years ago. You’re a has-been, Harrington,” Max chimes in.

“Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

“I’m seventeen, dingus.”

“You’ve been spending too much time with Robin.”

He missed them so much. Missed something he, if he’s being honest with himself, never really had in the first place. They both hated his guts before, and he… he was a mess. Still is. Just a different kind now. But being here, being part of this, is something he always on some level wanted and…

“Oh my god, Billy, are you okay?” Max asks, concern bleeding into her voice.

He’s crying again, smiles through the tears. “Yeah. Yeah I am.”

#steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove #harringrove fic #a raven's writing desk #i kind of want more to this #like #el didn't even SHOW P #UP*#but it's almost 2am #rn #and #this is already so long lmao

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writer-or-whatever · 6 years

Note

I'm the anom from the Coffee one, your fic was sweet and amazing thank you very much Rory/Paris: Rory tries to be more sophisticated in one the Weller galas for Paris sake with hilarious results.

Hi, yes, I saw this and was like I know what I’m gonna do and then I proceeded to write all 3,253 words of it instead of reading my middle age lit for tomorrow because i really was not in the mood for old English, tbh.

Also, just a note, I may have taken the “with hilarious results” and sort of… chucked that bit out the window. I really didn’t mean to; I had a nice, funny, fluffly, fic planned out and then I got to writing it and I was about three quarters of the way done writing it and I was like what if, instead, I have angst and so I did.

Oops.

Anyway, enjoy (or cry your heart out, either way):

[Read on AO3 or FFN]

“Grandma, could I talk to you for a minute?” It was an odd request, not because Rory and her grandmother didn’t get along, but because she hadn’t once, in the two years of Friday Night Dinners, ever asked to talk to either of her grandparents alone. That was usually her mother’s thing, and, at least with Lorelai, it never meant anything good. Her grandmother, however, didn’t ask questions, merely nodded and followed Rory into her grandfather’s study, the closest private space she could think of.

“Rory, is everything alright?” Her grandmother looked concerned, and Rory felt kind of bad for worrying her over something that wasn’t even a problem. Well, something that wasn’t a huge problem, anyway. Just the little issue of her secret girlfriend asking her to come to her family’s super important, super formal, Hanukkah celebration that she had absolutely no idea how to act for.

No big deal, not at all.

“Everything’s fine, Grandma. I was just wondering if maybe you could help me with something?”

“Of course, Rory, but why are you asking me in here and not at the dinner table if nothing is wrong?” Ah, just another aspect of the problem at hand: not only did Lorelai not know that she was dating Paris, but she would be mocked endlessly if she knew that Rory wanted grandma’s help to act like a proper lady and impress Paris’s family, even if they didn’t know that Rory was their daughter’s girlfriend.

“Well, see, a friend from school invited me to an event and I don’t really know how to act at those sorts of things and I thought that you would know but you know mom, she’d mock my desire to learn about proper etiquette until the day she dies, possibly longer. You know how mom is when she sets her mind to something, nothing will stop her, not even death and-”

Emily interrupted her rambling before it could go on for too long, “Say no more, I completely understand. Now this even, when is it?” Her grandma’s interest was clearly piqued now that there was a chance to teach Rory something that was clearly important to her without Lorelai. The fact that it was about etiquette, Emily Gilmore’s specialty, just made it that much better.

“It’s on the seventh.”

“The seventh? Well, that doesn’t leave us much time, but it’ll be alright. So, who invited you to this, again?”

“Just a friend from school.” Rory really, really, hoped that she wouldn’t push any further because they were treading on dangerous ground here as it was.

“Someone whose family you want to impress by showing them that you’re a proper Gilmore? A boy you like, perhaps? Of course her grandmother would push, it’s Emily Gilmore, she’s the queen of pushing for information.

“Something like that.” There, hopefully Rory provided just enough to placate her grandmother’s need for information without actually confirming if there was a boy, which there most certainly was not.

“Alright, well, I’m glad you’ve moved on from that Dean, clearly to someone more suitable since they attend Chilton. How about you come over here a few days this week and we’ll have you all ready for next Sunday in no time.” With that, her grandmother lead the way back into the dining room, quick as you please, leaving behind a slightly grim looking Rory who could only nod her head and think about how, if her grandmother found out about who all this was for, she might actually prefer Dean.

Back at the table, she came face to face with a very curious Lorelai Gilmore, to whom she could offer no sturdy excuse for her talk to grandma.

“So, what was that,” she waved her hand between Rory and Emily, “all about?”

“Oh, you know, just asking grandma if I could come over here a couple of days next week and get a ride to the Hartford Library to get some books for school.” She could tell, before the entire excuse was even out of her mouth, that it would not hold up against her mother.

“What’s wrong with Stars Hollow’s library?”

“They don’t have the book I need, I looked.”

“And what book is that?”

Oh boy.

“I, uh, don’t remember off the top of my head.”

“You, Rory Gilmore, girl who actually likes school and studies for more hours than she sleeps, don’t remember something about school? About books?!” Her mom was in fine form tonight, both dramatic and relentless about something Rory would much rather not talk about.

Great.

“Well, I can’t be perfect all the time, right? Give someone else a chance, eh?” She could tell her mother wasn’t buying it, but, thank God, her grandfather changed the subject to his upcoming business trip to Utah. Her mom went with it, asking what else could there possibly be to insure in Utah other than cows, but Rory knew that this interrogation was far from over.

Mid-afternoon on Sunday the seventh of December found Rory in her grandmother’s house hiding in the kitchen on the phone with Paris. It’d been nine days of hiding etiquette lessons with her grandmother from her mother and hiding the person that was the reason for said lessons from her grandmother. Frankly, it was exhausting and Rory just really wanted to see Paris, formal event and etiquette be damned.

“I can’t believe you accepted her offer.” Paris was laughing at her, which, if it were anyone else trapped in the Gilmore house hiding from Emily and her personal stylist, she would be laughing too. But, it was Rory and Rory would just like some support from her girlfriend, thank you very much.

“Well, to be fair, when she offered it was less like an offer and more like an order.”

“You’re going to show up here looking like a proper seventy year old woman.” Paris was still laughing. “Oh, this is going to be great. You’ll really liven up my spirits; it’s the perfect Hanukkah gift.”

“Keep it up and I’ll bring her along to give you a last minute makeover. Then we’ll match. Won’t that be fun?” Paris stopped laughing, she was pretty sure Rory was serious.

“You’re not serious about that are you?” Oh, she did think Rory was serious.

“As a heart attack.” She still sounded serious, but just barely.

“I take it back,” and, with those words, Rory let out the laughter she had been holding in since she first threatened Paris with an old lady makeover. “Are you laughing, Gilmore?”

“I might be.” Not even two seconds after those words left her mouth, her grandma came into the kitchen. “Uh, gotta go, talk to you later,” and then she hung up on Paris, a thing that was basically a cardinal sin in the guide to dealing with Paris Geller.

“Who was that on the phone?” Her grandmother was looking at her with that look, the one that meant that she knew that Rory was talking to “the gentleman,” as she’d taken to calling the nonexistent boy that Rory was doing all this for.

“Just Paris, I needed to double check about the pages for the reading for history is all.” It wasn’t completely untrue, it was Paris on the phone, just not for information on the history reading.

“I see,” her grandmother said in a way that made Rory fairly certain that she believed that Rory was telling her it was Paris as a cover but didn’t want to pry, “well, now that you’ve cleared that up let’s finish getting you ready, shall we?”

When Rory left her grandparents’ house, she looked like an illustration pulled straight out of a modern retelling of Cinderella, tiara and all. She cannot believe she let her grandmother dress her like this, but there was nothing for it now. She approached the Geller’s house, which made the Gilmore residence look like a humble home in comparison, and rang the doorbell, secretly hoping that the butterflies in her stomach would take flight and take her with them. She was so nervous, what if Mr and Mrs. Geller didn’t like her? After all, they were not the most affectionate people in the world. What if they found out about her and Paris? What if Rory embarrassed herself? There was so much that could go wrong. Thank God the maid answered the door, took her coat, and ushered her inside.

She wasn’t even ten steps into the house when a hand grabbed her from one of the closets in the foyer and pulled her in.

“What the hell?! Let go of me,” She was yelling and twisting away from the hands that were on her arms in the dark closet.

“Gilmore, chill the fuck out. And stop yelling.” It was Paris. Of course it was. She came to see her in her own house at her invitation and she was still getting pulled into closets.

“Oh, hi.” She turned to face what assumed was Paris’s face, though it was too dark to see anything.

“Hi,” She flipped the light on as she said it, revealing the two of them and about four coats in the small space.

The butterflies were back, but this time it wasn’t because Rory was nervous, it was because Paris was fucking gorgeous. “You look nice,” she reached up to grab Paris’s hands from where they rested on her upper arms.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” not only did Paris look nice, but Rory really wanted to kiss her. Unfortunately, Paris chose tonight to actually wear a lipstick that would be very noticable if it were both smudged and on Rory.

“You do too, not at all like a grandmother.” Paris was smiling when she said it, very clearly holding back a laugh over Rory’s early hysterics over being turned into an old lady by her grandmother’s stylist.

“Thank you,” Rory did a little curtsey as she said it, just adding to the princess illusion.

“My very own princess charming, what do you know,” And Paris was leaning in, and, yeah, lipstick be damned because they were kissing and Rory was fairly certain that it was magical and that fact had nothing at all to do with her fairytale appearance and everything to do with the fact that it was Paris that she was kissing, being in love will do that to you. Not that Rory was in love with Paris or anything. Or, at least, not that she’d admit. Yet.

When they broke for air, Rory decided that she needed to point out the flaw in their kissing plan, “What are the odds that we’ll be able to make it to a bathroom to fix this,” she gestured to her lipstick smeared mouth, “without running into anyone and outing ourselves?”

“Very high, the maid knows and there’s a bathroom that’s for the staff three doors down from this one. She’ll give us a knock when all the other guests are here,” and, with her worries cleared up, they were back to kissing.

This lasted for about five more minutes before there was a knock on the closet door, clearly from the maid, since Paris pulled away and straightened up. “After you, her majesty, your public awaits.”

“Har de har har,” but Rory followed Paris out of the closet and into the bathroom anyway.

They got cleaned up and slipped into the midst of the party without anyone noticing, much to Rory’s relief. It wasn’t that difficult of a night, she remember to stand up straight, which fork was used for the salad, and how to politely exit a conversation every time someone asked her if she, a nice young lady, was seeing anyone.

It was all going fine, or at least it was, until the other guests had left and it was just Paris and her parents.

She was going to leave with everyone else, but Paris had asked her to stay for the lighting of the last candle on the Menorah, something that she typically just did with her family. It obviously meant a lot to Paris that Rory be there, and, if she was honest, it meant a lot to Rory to have been asked to stay. They lit the candle, followed the traditions, and everything was fine. Her parents were leaving, on their way to their separate wings of the house, when it happened. Paris turned to her and whispered, “I love you, thank you for coming. And thank you for staying.”

Rory was just about to return the sentiments when, faster than Rory would think possible for the large man, Mr. Geller was there and he was not happy. “What did you say? You love her? She’s a girl, Paris. You were raised better than this. You were raised to bring greatness upon the Geller name, not shame.”

“She’s not bringing shame, Mr.Geller. She’s being who she is, someone who is wonderful and ambitious and driven and intelligent and you should be ashamed of yourself for thinking such a thing, let alone saying it to your own daughter on a night that is supposed to be special and about celebration.” Rory couldn’t help it, she jumped to Paris’s defense, snapping and merciless, even though she knew Paris was completely capable of defending herself.

“It is a shame and she is not welcome in this house until she realizes it.” He turned away, resolute and hard in his decision, while Paris’s mother simply looked on.

“Good. There’s nothing here for me anyway, with parents that love their family name and money than they ever could me.” Paris was angry, and she certainly sounded it, but Rory could also see from the set of her jaw that she was moments away from crying.

“Let’s go, Par. Come home with me.” Rory’s arm was around Paris and guiding her over to the door where they both got their coats and a kiss on the forehead from Paris’s nanny, who Paris promised to call tomorrow.

They drove to Stars Hollow in silence, Rory driving Paris’s car and Paris glaring resolutely out of the passenger side window.

When they pulled up to Rory’s house, Paris finally spoke, “So, how are we going to play this? Poor Paris needed a night away from her parents so she’s spending the night at her friend, Rory’s, house?” Paris basically spat the word friend with more venom than she’d ever heard her use before, even back in their sophomore year when they were enemies and Paris didn’t spend a free minute not tormenting Rory.

“No. I’m going to tell her. I’m going to go in there and say ‘mom, this is my girlfriend, Paris, whom you’ve met, and I love her very much and she’s had a very rough night, can she please crash here?”

“You love me?” The hard edge left Paris’s voice, leaving a soft vulnerable whisper in its wake.

“Yeah, I do. And I’m so sorry that your parents are such homophobic assholes and I know that this won’t make up for it, but I do and I want you to know that.” Just as the last word left her mouth, Paris was kissing her, and it was salty and wet and sad, but it was Paris.

“Okay, then,” Rory said, getting out of the car and heading around to Paris’s side to open her door, “let’s do this, shall we?”

When they got into the Gilmore household, it was dark, but there were lights and sounds coming from the living room, so the tv was clearly on. And, when in the Gilmore house, where you can find a movie, you can find Lorelai, so the two girls made their way into the living room, divesting themselves of their heels in the process.

“Hey, Rory, how was the thing?” Her mom was very caught up in the movie, Casablanca, and hadn’t yet looked at Rory and so she didn’t see Paris, either.

“Not so great.”

“No? Nothing a little classic love triangle can’t fix.” She was still absorbed in the movie, despite having seen it approximately one thousand times.

“Not this time, mom.” That got Lorelai’s attention, alright, because, in the world according to Lorelai Gilmore, there was very little that could not be fixed by Casablanca. She was clearly surprised to see Paris standing there in her living room along with Rory, both of them disheveled and clearly upset.

“What happened?” She made her way off the couch and over to the two girls, Rick and Ilsa completely forgotten.

“Um, well, I went to the party at Paris’s, like I said, and it was fine until after everyone else left. I stayed to watch them light the Menorah because Paris asked me to and then, well, her parents found out about me.”

“Found out that you were there? Didn’t they invite you? Strange people, those Gellers.” At any other time, Rory really would have appreciated her mother’s attempt to make light, but not tonight.

“No. They found out that I am Paris’s girlfriend.” There, she said it. Now all that was left was to see how it went over.

“Girlfriend? Like friend who is a girl or…”

“The or option. Girlfriend as in hold hands, kiss, go on dates, kind of girlfriend.”

“Okay. So they found that out and what? They weren’t happy with it?” Lorelai sounded like she was teetering on the edge of the dangerous kind of angry that she only got when someone did something to hurt her kid, which, in a way, the Gellers definitely did.

“Definitely not.” Rory wasn’t really sure how much more Paris wanted her to say.

“They kicked me out.” Paris, apparently, had no qualms about telling Lorelai the whole thing now that it had been established that she didn’t care about the fact that they weren’t straight and were very much together.

“What’s your address, again, Paris? Tomorrow I’m going to go over there and give them a piece of my mind, I think. In the meantime, you’re more than welcome to stay here.”

Rory couldn’t help it, she practically leapt forward to hug her mother and whispered, “thanks, mom” into the embrace. Hugging one girl clearly wasn’t enough for Lorelai, since she pulled Paris into a hug as well.

Later that night, when Paris had gone to bed in her bed because Rory wouldn’t let her take the couch, Lorelai sat down on the arm of the couch by where Rory’s feet where, as she lay sprawled out on the couch under about four hundred blankets. “So, is this why you and Dean didn’t work out? I thought it was about Jess, but was it because you don’t like boys?” Her mom was quiet, something rare for her, which meant that she was trying to really understand, not make light.

“No. Dean and didn’t work out because I had feelings for someone else, but it wasn’t Jess. It was Paris.” She took a deep breath, “I really did love him, you know. I just wanted him to be happy, but, after a while, I wanted to be happy too. I hated hurting him, but it wasn’t because of Jess. I mean Jess is a great friend but that’s really all he is.”

“So, you like boys and girls?”

“Pretty much.”

“How lucky for you.”

“What?” She didn’t expect her mom to be made about it but lucky? What the hell was that supposed to mean?

“You’ve got twice as many fish in the sea, kid.”

“Oh my god.”

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#ask response #rose writes #Rory/Paris #rory/paris fic #Gilmore Girls #gilmore girls fic

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hwanwooyoung · 2 years

Note

hello chey! santa here! 🎅 i'm so sorry for being mia for days, i had an unusually busy week and was very, very tired 😖 but i'm slowly coming back too life!

yay happy to hear the semester ended! how long is your break? and why do you regret studying digital communications? no need to reply if you don't want to talk about it, of course! i studied polish philology, focused mostly on 19th and 20th century literature :)

hahaha i don't do headers, making them is too exhausting and i'm never satisfied. but yours is awesome so no need to change it! i get so attached to icons it's actually funny. i rarely change them because i think "oh no, if i get a new one, i will no longer have this one 😭😭" i'm a baby who won't eat a cookie because there'll be no cookie 😐

i'm actually allergic both to cats and dogs... 🤦 so i'm on meds all the time 😬 but i've had cats since i was a toddler and i intend to have them till the day i die 🥲 i just hope allergy won't be the cause of my demise 😆

omg artist of the month... that'd be almost too amazing 😖 hopefully one day!!! all it takes is a bit of luck 👍

my wrapped was honestly so weird this year...again. some of my fave songs weren't even in the top 100 while a few which i didn't even remember/like much were... but at least my top artists made sense unlike last year 🤔 i've no clue how they count it all... but it's fun so who cares 😂

and i actually rarely remember when/how i get into groups/find biases. it's usually more of a process, i guess? i don't realize until i'm head over heels and it's too late to run 😆

ah, okay, enough babbling. how was your weekend? did you celebrate the end of the semester or did you just pass out? no judging, both options are valid 😂 and do you have any plans for your break? i mean, we're in the pandemic but a break is a break! 😉 we have snow here but apparently it's gonna get warmer for xmas which is a bit of a shame 🥲

anyway, i'm sending warm hugs!

santa 🎅

ANON I'M SORRY I REALIZED I FORGOT TO REPLY OH NOOO 😭😭😭 i'm sorry to keep you waiting 🥺

how has your week been? is everything okay? have you been keeping hydrated and eating well? 🥺🥺🥺

my break just started about a week ago!! so far it's been kinda okay... been going out with some friends and making some gifsets... forgetting to reply to messages... 👀 i have a really bad habit of not replying so i apologize for that >< ooh i don't really regret the course, i just kind of regret going to uni as a whole... but then again idrk what i would be doing if i wasn't in uni

oooh philology! first time i heard of the word :O very interesting! do you like that course? 🥰

that analogy "i'm a baby who won't eat a cookie because there will be no cookie" is SO CUTE. and also very relatable >< same though... i would keep the cookie there for as long as possible until someone eats it and i regret not eating it in the first place :'))) but that's totally fine that you don't have a header! it does take a lot of time to make, i agree >< that's why i haven't changed it in months <3

I GET YOU!!!! it's okay we can be allergic together </3

*manifesting oneus artist of the month december 2021*

spotify wrapped is very weird >< and also doesn't take into account the newer songs T~T if they kept collecting data till like late november, LUNA would probably be in my top 10 😭😭😭 but alas ><

i totally get you!! the process is a thing <3 for lack of better words

i did pass out after my last assignment, but then i've been rewatching a childhood show and making more gifs :D (or attempting to). i hope your week has treated you well 🥺🥺

do you have any plans for the holidays? i'm just gonna visit my family for christmas!!

#igm.ask #anonymous #oneusanta 🎅🏼

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http-lottae · 6 years

Text

Stay At Home W/ Taehyung

Genre|type: fluffs , cutesies , skinships , minor m

( ps ; m does not mean masochist . it means mature rated hehehe )

Roles: !Taehyung!Boyfriend x !YN!Girlfriend

🌹🍷✨🌹🍷✨ Enjoy 🌹🍷✨🌹🍷✨

You were on the bed , fully dress in your lace-stripped black nightgown . You heard your alarm clock chiming away its sound on the table near your bed and the last sound you remembered was the night before , when you and your boyfriend , Taehyung had an intimate moment together . The sun glimmered right before your eyes and you sighed . You rubbed your eye and whine continously , knowing the fact that your alarm woke you up on a Saturday . A larger frame hovered over you and you felt the heaviness that was resting on your body . Your vision was semi-blurry and all you can see was your boyfriends' neckline . You lifted your head closer to him , leaving soft kisses .

" Babe -- Y/N ah , I'm trying to snooze the alarm here "

You ignored him , continue to kiss his neck . Your arms wrapped around him even tighter . His weight was resisting you for a moment and finally , he managed to hit the 'snooze' button . He groaned and framed you in , scanning every single features on your face . His thumb slowly caressed your cheeks . Your vision was still in a fog yet you can see his outline framing over you and you laughed ear to ear .

" You're a lil teaser huh babe ? Yesterday wasn't enough for you ? "

Taehyung lowered himself and smooched your face , leaving you pouting . He got up , stretching his limbs and wear his cover-ups . You angled yourself to his direction .

" Boo ... Where ya going ? "

" I am going to make us breakfast .... YEYYERSSS ! "

" YEYYERSSS ... Sounds good ! "

Letting the boyfriend aside , you yawned and flipped yourself to the opposite side . Your eyes met with the calender hung against your work-board . You squinted and noticed a big red circle around a date , 30th of December and it was written ' Vantes' Bornday ' with cute illustrations that made it even more obvious . You woke up , wide awake .

" OH heck no ! OMG ! "

From downstairs , your boyfriend asked you if there's anything wrong and you shouted back without hesitation , with a big ' No ' . You rushed out of your bed and tore out the page . You literally have forgotten that the next day , after Saturday , was your boyfriends' birthday . You had mixed emotions of nervousness , panic and excitement . You danced on your toes and squeal .

" Omgggg I'm so excited ! What to do , what to buy , WHAT TO PREPARE ? "

You then , messed up your hair in frustration .

" Urghh , but I should've have planned what to do in advance ! Owhhh , I'm so disappointed with myself ! Oh no Y/N , your boyfriend's gonna hate you for sure ! "

The air from downstairs began to flow into your room and you know that your breakfast was ready to be served . You took a deep breath and calm yourself down . You then tied your hair into a bun and put on your glasses before you went down for your meal .

" Ah ... Still in your nightgown huh ? "

He grinned and was pleased , seeing you being all lustful-yet-cute with your nightgown , bun and glasses . He approached you , slowly grabbing your waist and buried his face in your shoulder . You felt soft pecks on your neck .

" Hey hey , boo ... I have not eaten my breakfast . You too ! "

You 'glide' yourself out from Taehyungs' arm . Instead , you grabbed his hand and led him back to the kitchen counter .

" Will do that soon but now , lets eat ! Thanks for the food boo "

He cooed by nodding . He then raked his neck to cover up his embarrassment and desperation for you . Lets be real , he was crazy about you .

After you had your meal , washed the dishes and cleared up the mess your boyfriend has created , you rushed up without even saying a word to him . He was concerned about you acting a little strange after he heard your screaming while he cooked breakfast earlier on . You heard footsteps and acting even more panicky than you used to .

" Babe , what's wrong ? "

He noticed you being frozen and sat beside you . He tapped lightly on your thigh to wake you back up from whatever thought you were having .

" I-- ah "

" Y/N-ah . Spill it . What is it ? "

You hug Taehyungs' waist , buried your face without giving any notice and he was lost for words .

" I AM VERY SORRY , I FORGOT TOMORROW IS YOUR BIRTHDAY AND I DIDN'T BUY YOU ANYTHING , I'M A HORRIBLE GIRLFRIEND I DONT DE-...... "

" Hey hey Y/N ! Just chill oh my god and no no.... it's not your fault . Why would I find a fault in that ? Like just because you forget bout my birthday and I'm gonna die ? No babe , you're wrong "

He caressed your hair to reassure you that he was alright with it . You let go of your arm around him and looked at his reaction .

" You sure about that ? "

Your face was flushed and your spontaneous pout on the lips tickled Taehyung . He laughed , nearly tearing out . He offered his hands , gestured you with his eye to intertwine yours' with his . He cleared his throat and replied .

" Y/N-ah , from the bottom of my heart , your presence has already made a huge impact for me and having you right in front of my eyes every single day had made me very satisfied and feel like I'm on top of the world , I swear to you on that ! "

His word brought you to Cloud 9 and everything was hazy . He hugged you tightly and you cooled down . His warmth was the best and that's all that matters . He lets you go and asked .

" It's like 12 . Do you wanna go out for shopping or somethin or playing around at home all day ? "

" I guess it's nice to stay at home and do activities together .... To be honest , I'm kinda lazy to go out . Plus you said you don't mind not getting presents so I thought , you know .... "

You response shyly and he cooed , showing off his boxy smile .

" All right Princess what shall we do today ? "

He bowed to you playfully , take your hand and leave a peck on it . You giggled and stood up to bow back . You and Taehyung looked at each other for a moment . You began to smirk and tap his shoulder .

" You're it ! "

" Woah stop right there ! Where'cha going off to ?! "

Everything went well and the atmosphere in the house was lively . You both played monopoly , do sketches , karaokes etc . It was all 'funsies pansies' and you did not realised the time flew by very quickly . The sun sets and created silhouette upon the living rooms' furniture . You and your boyfriend were in a 'cuddling mode' on the couch . His hands massaged gently on your back while he soft smooches your entire face . You never felt safer until you had him in your life , rather , to be your pillow for life !

" Oh ! "

You burst the bubble between the both of you and looked around only to realise that the day has gone darker . You sat back up , wearing back your glasses and pulled your boyfriend to do likewise .

" Hold on , lemme prepare the bath "

Taehyung grabbed your waist from behind to stop you . He looked all mushed up and petty because he doesn't want to let go of you . You shook your head in disagreement and flicked his forehead with your finger .

" OWH ! Urgh , baby don't go yet ! Nuuuu "

" Hey , I gotta prepare the bath . You'll be smelly and I do not want to be sleeping with you , if you are one ! "

He groaned and rolled his eye . He grabbed the remote control and switched on the television . You sighed and went up to prepare bath . You were done and stripped . You grab a towel and wrapped it around your body like a burrito . You then called him to come up and have a dip in the bathtub . As always , seeing you with nearly nothing on you , made him gulped a bolus of saliva . He took off his overalls and dipped . He let out a sigh of relaxation when the water and bubbles started to warm him up . You nodded with satisfaction and you unwrapped your towel . Your boyfriend watched you with his jaw open as if he never seen you naked before . Droplets of sweat trailed down your body and to your curves , leaving him breathless . You noticed him and he quickly turned his head .

" I ... Yo-you are v-very pretty ... "

He stammered . You smiled , taking off your glasses and dipped in comfortably infront of your boyfriend , where your back was facing him . He wrapped his arm around your waist , closing his eye , laying his chin on your shoulder and he hummed to the song , you and him created . You listened to him , never said a word . You took his hand and observing it . Slender , long and veiny . You kissed the knuckles and intertwines yours with his once again .

After a great bath , filled with singing , bubble play and cuddling , both of you stepped out from the bathtub smelling fresh . You put back your glasses and wrapped yourself with your towel . Taehyung was waiting for you on the bed with a towel wrapped wround his waist-down . You walked out of the bathroom , drying up your hair where you see your boyfriend acting all pouty and cute .

" Awww lil boo boo want his mama to dry him up huh ? "

" Yesh mama "

You sat on the bed and dry his hair thoroughly . After awhile of drying each others' up , you walked towards your closet to pick up a casual wear for the night . A cuddly light pastel blue sweatshirt with a logo ' I hearts Candy ' was your choice and short black leggings to finish off the look . You tied your hair into a ponytail and you were all set for the night ! Taehyung on the other hand , he picked out a fabric green top and black sweatpants . For a bonus , he took out his fake glasses from the drawer to match with you . He spins around to show you off the look .

" How do you like it babe , I look nerdy like you right now "

" Hmph ! Very funny ! HA HA HA "

You folded your arms and acted cranky towards him . He knew , once you gave out that tone and folding your arms like that , he need to do something about it quickly . He lowered himself infront of you , arms wide open , ready to hug you .

" C'mon Mama ! C'mon , come to Papa "

Your looked at him , lips pouted and hesitantly moved slightly closer to him . He carried you like a small child and you squeaked a little .

" Gotcha . Now hold on tight ! "

" TAEHYUNG ! LET GO OF ME ! I ALREADY SAID MANY TIMES I'M SCARED THAT I FALL AN-.... "

" I got ya babe , don't worry "

You held him tightly , relying on his movement , hoping that there's no accidents along the way . He walked the both of you down to the living room and settled you down on the couch . He goes to the kitchen and grab a few snacks . You watched his every steps . He came back , satisfied and offered you snacks .

" Y/N-ah it's going to be 9:30 pm and there's a movie going to be screen anytime soon ! "

" Ouh , ok then "

You shifted closer to him , clinging your arms with his and watch the movie . 45 minutes have passed and you realised that Taehyung has finish all the snacks and you decided to grab a refill so that he could enjoy the movie with ease . You were in the kitchen at the moment and you were thirsty . You decided to drink something cold and hence , looking through your fridge . You took a bottle of Sprite and there were 3 cupcakes in between the condiments . The cupcakes were bought the day before , when you were out with your boyfriend but you decided to keep the leftovers for a few days to come . You had an idea .

' Mhmm , I think this is the only way to celebrate his birthday '

You thought to yourself .

" MAMA !!! WHERESHH MY SHNACKSHH !!! "

He babied his voice while his eyes were glued to the screen . You closed the fridges' door , snacks in your arms and you walked briskly to the couch . You laid down the snacks in front of him and you sat down , positioned yourself as comfortably as possible . You took a gulp on your drink and thirst was quenched . Taehyung seemingly to be enjoying the movie and he got very laid back by resting his head on your lap while munching down on the snacks .

" HAHAHA did he just say ' LETS TACO ABOUT IT ' ?!?! Omg Greg IS SOOOO SIMILAR TO HYUNG !!! VERY GOOD AT PUNS AAHAHAAH "

You facepalm when you heard the pun . You had enough with Seokjin hyungs' puns and when your boyfriend pointed it out , you were not showing any interest at all . His eyes were still glued to the screen and you sighed . Nothing is more interesting than the comical silly movie he was watching at the moment and all you could do was patting his head and playing with his hair . The movie had finally ended . You look at the wall clock . It was already 11 pm .

" Finally ! "

You shook your head in disappointment for dealing with so much of unnecessary puns during the screen time . Taehyung playfully clapped to show his pleasing .

" NOW THAT'S AN OSCAR ! "

You made a poker face , thinking why this movie deserved an Oscar . The movie ain't good in the first place anyways . You sighed , stood up and stretched your body to release the cramps . You cleaned up the mess and you told your boyfriend to settle himself before going up to bed . He abide your instruction . 10 minutes have passed and you finished cleaning . You opened up the fridge and wondered .

" Wew..... Mmm ..... should I .... bring the cupcake up right now or exactly 12 am ? "

" Babe ! Are you alright with the cleaning !? "

You closed the fridge fast and cooed to his question . You re-tied your hair and ran up to your room , only to see your boyfriend at the balcony , staring into the sky . You panted and adjusted your glasses . You took a deep breath and decided to sneak up behind him . You ' hug-attack ' him .

" Hello ! I know you were sneaking behind me Y/N "

" Aww man , how did you know ? "

" You were running like an elephant . It's not like I couldn't hear you babe "

He swiftly walked right under your arm and hugged you from behind . He cradled you , swaying you side to side to comfort you before you could even scold him . You playfully hit his chest using the back of your head and whined throughout the cradling .

" Yeah yeah , I'm shorry okie , I'm sho sho shorry hmm ? "

He babied his tone once again but this time , to apologise . You nodded and rested your head on him . He began to sing a part from Magic Shop .

" So show me .... "

" I'll show you .... "

Both of you sang a few songs after that and time just passed by . You and Taehyung were back inside the room and on bed . Your boyfriend was playing his game on the laptop while you were scrolling Tumblr . When you were scrolling , your phone calender notified you about his birthday .

' 12 am ; Taehyungs' Birthday ! '

You paused for a moment and look at your boyfriend . You took a big gulp , get out of bed and you ran out . He was following after you and you widen your steps even further . You managed to take out a cupcake from the fridge , a candle and a lighter from the nearest drawer . The situation was getting alarming and you decided to celebrate the birthday at the kitchen table . Before he could even call your name , you switched off the main switch and your whole house became pitch black . You muted yourself and waiting for his replies or reaction .

" Babe .... Y/N , where are you ? Don't do this to me , we can talk bout it together alright ? "

#fanfic #bts fluff #cute #taehyung #kim taehyung #pg #imagine #imagines #bts #bts v #bts jungkook #bts suga #bts jimin #bts namjoon #bts seokjin #bts jhope

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