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thefanficmonster · 3 years

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Strictly Professional

Corpse Husband x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: HUMOR, Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: A slip of the tongue leads Corpse to make an unexpected confession which leads to him getting lectured by his best friend. That’s all you need to know, the rest shall unfold before your eyes.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your lovely request! I’m so sorry it’s been so long overdue but here it finally is and I really hope you come across it and read it. If so I hope you enjoy it! Love, Vy ❤

I’ve buried my head under my arms, resting it on my desk as my ears are still violated by the hollering coming from my headset. I don’t know what in me snapped out of nowhere or what caused the slip-up, but what matters is that it happened and now I’m in some hot water. I’m practically the soup everyone in this Discord call at the moment will be eating for dinner tonight, getting a real kick at my expense - some even having the audacity to be mad at me over it - ahem, Rae, ahem - but bottom line: I won’t live this down easily.

“Hey everyone! What did I miss?“ Sykkuno, who was running late and missed this entire debacle makes an appearance. If it were any other occasion, I’d be overjoyed to hear he’s finally joining us, but his question of what he had missed renders me only able to cringe and wait for my friends’ next move.

“Sykkuno!“ Rae exclaims ecstatically, “Oh, strap in, imma tell you what you missed...“

“No, you won’t tell him, Rae.“ Toast cuts her off, sounding uncharacteristically serious, especially when taken into account how hard he was laughing just a moment ago, “This is Corpse’s tale to tell, don’t spare him the shame of telling it one more time.“

And just when I thought this fucker would prove himself to be a true friend...

“Oof, this sounds serious...“ Sykkuno says to fill the silence I purposely let linger just so I don’t give these bullies the satisfaction of hearing my embarrassment all over again even though they inevitably will.

“It is...“ I sigh with a heavy heart, hiding my face in the palm of my hand, “It’s really bad and embarrassing and...I’d rather not retell it at all let alone for a second time, but here it goes...“ I inhale as much air as I can as a method of gaining confidence before I start talking, “So you know MGK and I made a song. Yeah well, we’re gonna be making a music video for it and I asked Rae to be in it. Thing is, I wanted to ask Y/N first. Buckle up, this is where it starts going downhill: ok so I went over to their place so we could just chit chat an marathon a few movies like we usually do over the weekends but I also wanted to bring up the whole ‘hey, wanna be in my music video’ thing but didn’t know how. Mind you, we were drinking beers this whole time, might’ve had a few too many actually. Ok, we definitely had a few too many, but back on track: as I was blabbering and stumbling over my words, nervous as all hell and unable to string the simple question inside my head, all Y/N did was tilt their head and smile at me. You know, the odd thing is it was a genuine smile, not a drunken grin like you’d expect from someone on their fourth beer bottle. And then, out of the blue, they had the audacity to hit me with: ‘You’re so cute’ and I just sat there frozen for a few seconds. I mean, my reaction was on point - who wouldn’t react like that if their crush told them they found them cute. Anyway - I was like ‘what?’ and then, out of an even bluer blue, they freaking kissed me. I nearly had a heart attack damn it!“

“And he never asked them to be in the DAYWALKER music video!“ Rae clearly couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“I didn’t get the time! I was out of there in the blink of an eye!“ I bark, feeling my face heating up with embarrassment and regret. God, I should never ask how stupid I can get because I keep surprising myself in the end with just how far my stupidity goes. It’s fucking insane.

“Oh God, poor Y/N.“ Sykkuno sighs, sounding only a tiny bit as though he’s about to laugh. I appreciate his self-control honestly, the rest of these fuckers were dying laughing as though our friends and my crush kissing me and me responding like I had an allergic reaction was the best joke to ever be told.

“Poor Y/N?“ I snap a little, “What about me?“

“Yeah, poor Y/N!“ Rae backs Sykkuno up, “Poor Y/N and poor me for the missed opportunity to me in a music video for a song of one of my best friends with another one of my best friends. Corpse, you better fix this!!“

“How?!“ I’m aware I sound desperate but I seriously wanna fix it just have no idea how to go about it. I mean, if this looney group of nine people over here don’t come up with a plan no one will so not all hope for me is dead just yet. Even if we all had only one braincell we’d still be able to figure it out - I mean, ten braincells ain’t as bad as it sounds. Truth be told, Y/N’s the real brain of the group and they’d most definitely be able to help me - so fuck the irony.

“Call them.“ Sykkuno suggests so casually as though it’s a no-brainer. I’d go as far as to say his nonchalance almost made me laugh. Has he forgotten who he’s talking to?

“No way.“ I turn that down real quick, unable to even imagine the course of that phone call without cringing.

“No, Sykkuno’s right, call them right here right now. Ask them to star in the music video and then swerve the conversation to that kiss.“ Charlie’s suddenly decided to join the torturing being preformed upon me over here.

“What will I even say? I have no idea what to tell them!“ I complain, aware that I sound like a tantrum-throwing toddler but it’s really not my fault.

“Corpse. Corpse dear, listen to me, follow each word I say really carefully, ok?“ Rae asks, her voice now pitched as though she’s addressing an actual child. Yeah, that’s her well-known way of mocking me. “How about you say the actual fucking words. You know: ‘Hey Y/N, MGK and I are making a music video for DAYWALKER, wanna be in it?’“

I sigh, clearly defeated.

I pull out my phone, muttering to the crowd I’m about to speak in front of to be quiet as I put the ringing call on speaker, sweating like a pig the whole time. The room has risen in temperature and this hoodie has thickened, providing more warmth that’s more suffocating than comforting when it’s a hundred degrees outside. Or when I’m about to talk to my crush after THAT incident.

“Hello?“ Y/N’s voice on the other side rips me from my thoughts’ grasp, reminding me I’m on a mission.

“Hey Y/N, what’s up?“ I reply a little too quickly. Not giving them the time to reply with anything, I continue: “Hey Y/N, MGK and I are making a music video for DAYWALKER, wanna be in it?“

DAMN IT WHY DID YOU HAVE TO SAY IT WORD FOR WORD?!?!

“Oh....“ They sound confused - and rightfully so - but then regain their composure finally, “I-I’d love to. Thanks for the opportunity, Corpse. I’m so happy you’ve made it so far. I’d be honored to be in the music video.“

Ok, that’s partial relief. Now - time for the second phase of this plan

“Uh....“ and there goes my whole vocabulary out the window, “You’re welcome.“

“Cool...cool...“ they mutter awkwardly, clearly looking for a way to end the call, “Um, by the way...this is strictly professional, right?“

No! No it’s not! Of course it isn’t! I’ve been head over heels for you for a year now, damn it!

“Of course, o-of course it is. No worries.“ I reply, once again, a little too quickly. Faster than I could’ve prevented it.

“Ok cool...well, text me the details....“ They once again trail off, hoping I’ll catch the hint.

And so I succumb.

“Will do.“ I sigh, “See ya.“

“See ya.“ They reply and hang up.

I’m left there staring at my phone screen with utter self-disappointment and frustration that’s so intense I cannot even express it in any way.

The whole lobby is at a loss of words too - all nine of them astonished by my stupidity. Fortunately though, Charlie is quick to pull himself together and speak up because God forbid Charlie ever falls speechless, then we’d be SERIOUSLY in danger.

“Corpse. You. Are. The. Biggest. Fucking. Idiot.“

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1ddiscourseoftheday · 3 years

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Wed 7 Apr ‘21

Louis left Tulum and went to Mexico City, and we got airport pics from both ends: the gathered fans were told by his bodyguard that they should keep their distance but that yes, pictures would be allowed. Thank you Louis! We got to see him a little for the first time in so long, in videos of him walking by (and getting ready to walk by) and blurry pics of him with his guitar, and Oli and Charlie- I’m excited to someday see the footage of whatever they’re working on. But for now, finally some proper pictures of the long long hair, or at least the below the hat part, all flippy and like...LONG! It’s on his SHOULDERS! Early pics had some interesting shadows around an elbow, prompting a flurry of NeW TaTtoO?? excitement, but when more pics were posted we could see that no, his elbow remains the same, false alarm. Once that tattoo kerfuffle died down the interest refocused on his shirt, which featured- a whole damn pile of skulls!

Louis went through a long phase of wearing skull shirts a while back, and the fact that it was during a period of a lot of very pointed t-shirt messages (and that he kept doing it more than ever despite knowing what we were reading into it) seemed to reinforce the theory that he did in fact mean things by it, and seeing him say yes to fan photos while wearing this shirt for the occasion… well! WELCOME BACK public Louis, we MISSED YOU! Yesterday’s shirt was for the band Obituary- is the band name a nod at the fact that Syco, generally considered to be the main target of previous skull shirts, is now dead and gone (rest in pieces assholes:))? Is Louis drawing attention to the livestream that band did a few days ago for their album ‘The End Complete’, and if so, is that also about Syco or about… something else? Inconclusive, but if we were meant to find their song “End It Now”, that can truly only be about one thing!! Am I to believe that SBB himself, Mr “I like to draw the fans’ attention to the lyrics of things” just, whoopsy, missed that! I mean, you would think every band on earth has lyrics about “ending it“ with the number of times he’s made that mistake, damn… he just never learns. Poor Louis, gosh how embarrassing! Lol. Anyway, I’ve seen people wondering lately what will happen when all the fans that have joined us in this time of lockdown and of no real contact with Louis will react when their version of Louis has to compete with the real one- and him barely being back at all but immediately reminding people that he is not a dad FFS feels like an excellent beginning, this should be good! BUCKLE IN friends! The real Louis is sooo much more fun than the boring made up one, just get ready to enjoy the chaotic energy and trying to keep up with him….

Oh also Louis liked a Snuts tweet about being underdogs as they fight to get the release week UK #1 for their new album, and a charity says they reached out to Louis AND LOTTIE to play in their celeb footie match PLEASE, HOW CUTE WOULD THAT BE? Come on Tomlinsons, say yes!

Liam has a big interview in Glamour to promote his BAFTAS performance! If *I* were doing the piece I would have really gone hard on the Two Liams angle of the performance (in which Liam will be accompanied by a hologram of himself) but alas they are boring and only interviewed one of him- maybe the part where he says “you're on stage, you're a certain type of person, and at home you're a certain type of person” sort of counts? The “that's always something I've really struggled with” makes it not so fun though, but that’s a Liam interview for ya; worrisome and makes you want to hug him a lot. “I didn't actually realize this for a long time, but I often give a little bit too much away,“ he says, and today is no exception. We catch up on the time since last we heard from him, when he told us he was going to take some well-earned time off and try to focus on writing new music; he continues to have difficulty with downtime unfortunately. Oh Liam, I do wish it were easier for you to take a break! He says, “I stopped working and I had a full, proper month off [and that was] really hard. And it was all a bit dark for me for a little bit... not being able to go anywhere, not being able to do anything. It really, really hit home. And I just found myself sat in the same place day in, day out. And I was like, okay, I really do not know what to do with myself” and “for me, learning to relax has always been quite a hard thing to do because I feel like if I'm not moving forward, then I must be going backwards.” He goes on to say “so, in a way it's kind of a blessing in disguise, as this has all kind of taught me to relax a little bit more. And to not be so worried about that, like the world is not going to fall over if I don't do something today,” and I wish I believed him, but that’s Liam’s way, to be like oh I need to add something upbeat and end on a cheerful note! So IDK. He also talks about drinking too much, at the beginning of lockdown especially, and how he’s dealt with it by getting back to working out and dieting. There’s nothing there that he hasn’t talked about before (he’s publicly addressed both his struggles with alcohol dependency and has talked a lot about his disordered eating though he hasn’t himself named it that) but after publication Glamour edited the piece to omit the part about his drinking-- I’m guessing the augmented reality app people didn’t feel it fit their ideal image (sigh). What that leaves is him saying how nice it was to be able to eat what he wanted during lockdown but that having the boundaries and rules in place of restricting his food again has made him feel better about himself, which if you ask me is still plenty distressing. Oh Liam :( <I’ve never wanted to hug someone so bad/ Spongebob meme> On a slightly more cheerful note, he tells us he feels supported and heard by a manager that he’s close to, and by Louis, and that those relationships are good for him (the interviewer does ask about Bear, but financee Maya is not mentioned even once in this article). The piece ends with a startling response to a comment about his upcoming performance: “I'll see you wherever you want me in your house, I guess.”

Niall posted about his Masters (golf) fantasy league and he was seen out and about! He was photographed in London driving a car the size of a house and on the street carrying one of his dozens of different reusable water bottles, with his hair floppy and down- is it a new haircut or just unstyled??- and shorts and little roundish shades. Hello Neil! There was a rumored sighting of Harry in London as well but no pics and like we know he’s there anyway so… shrug. And iHeart award nominations are up, and they’re pitting louies against harries, ouch. Will it be nasty (well when isn’t it even without this voted category, sigh), or will the louies simply steamroller everyone as per usual? Only time will tell, but if so harries can console themselves with their likely wins in the Male Artist of the Year, Best Lyrics (Adore You), and Song of the Year (WS) categories.

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cayenne-twilight · 3 years

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Professor Layton Iceberg Explanation

As I said in the tags of the original, the iceberg I made was a meme consisting of both real theories and satire/parodies/fandom memes. If anyone is interested, I can work on an unironic version that only has real theories.

Buckle in because this post is LONG and heavily saturated with lore and information.

Actual theories

Parallel universe 1960s where the world wars didn’t happen. There’s an unused file in Curious Village that shows the year as 1960 and the time machine from UF is set to 1973, ten years into the future. The series canonically takes place in an undefined time period (hence the technological inaccuracies and fantasy elements), but it’s based off the 60s. There’s more evidence but we don’t have time to go over every little thing. I linked my “no wars” theory below but TL;DR the outdated airplanes and underdeveloped medicine in the Layton series imply that the world wars may never have happened. https://cayenne-twilight.tumblr.com/post/632205992162099200/outofcontextdiscord-timegearremix-zonosils-war

The real meaning behind the statue in Future London. In UF, the purpose of the statue is to spark Layton and Luke’s conversation about their friendship. Luke is stressing out about moving overseas and sees himself and the professor in the story behind the statue, but in the bigger picture, Clive must have been the one to commission it. Some theorize that the little boy is Clive and the man is either his father or the professor. One idea I’ve seen is that Clive wishes he could be Luke for real, while another is that he wishes he died ten years ago, and another is that he’s literally terminally ill explaining why he doesn’t care about consequence. Personally, I think “the boy succumbed to his illness” refers to his mental illness seeing as he wanted the professor to save him from his madness as he saved him all those years ago.

True location of Monte D’Or. there are no deserts on the British isles to my knowledge, so it makes the most sense for Monte D’Or to be in Southwest USA where English is the default language, they have a desert, and there exists a city famous for flashy hotels, casinos, and entertainment. What makes it odd is that nobody ever mentions overseas travel, and all the major characters are from England.

Loosha’s origins are not explicitly explained if I remember correctly, but the implication was that her prehistoric (supposedly) species was sealed away along with the garden, allowing them to survive all the way to the time of LS until Loosha was the only one left. The garden provided a good habitat and protection from predators, and it’s logical that they’d slowly die out anyways, but there’s no explanation of any specific factors that led to Loosha being the last.

Beasley is not a bee I wrote a post about this one as well, but TL;DR Beasly lacks several defining bee traits whilst having several human ones. He is not human, yet, by definition, not a bee. It’s possible that he is the result of Dimitri’s testing, but whatever his untold story is, he remains an enigma of nature. https://cayenne-twilight.tumblr.com/post/632381715250282496/theory-beasly-isnt-a-bee

Subject 2’s identity is currently unknown. There is a subject one (parrot) and subject 3 (rabbit) so there has to be a second. For a long time, people suspected Beasly to be him seeing as he’s a bit of an amalgamation and definitely not a regular bee (see above). After the release of LMJ, though, people began to suspect Sherl, the intelligent hound who could speak to certain people but not others. That being said, it’s possible for one to be subject 4. Sherl’s memory of a bright flash matches up with subject 3’s memory of being electrocuted. They never explain why the animals were being experimented on, but it was probably Dimitri making sure the conditions of his machine were safe for humans before reliving the incident from ten years ago.

Lady Violet died from the plague from DB. There’s no evidence for this or anything, it’s just an idea. People say she died from the flu but I don’t remember them saying that in the game, at least the US version. Extending off my “no war” theory: it’s theorized that the Spanish Flu was spread by the travlelling soldiers, so if that’s true, it’s possible for the epidemic to have been averted for some decades. Maybe the Spanish Flu reached England later than in real life. The hole in this is that DB’s plague must’ve been close in time to 1918 while Violet’s death was much later, so it would’ve had to stick around.

Bill Hawks is working with Targent and Arthur Cantabella. There was a force in the shadows buying the time machine technology from Bill. Someone with a ton of money who helped him cover up a freak accident and get away with it completely, a feat that involved shady means like violence by hired thugs. Some theorize that it was Targent, seeking power over time in exchange for a little mafia magic. The Labarynthia project was sponsored by the UK government, so as the PM, Bill must’ve known about it. He probably supported dubiously ethical, high stakes (witch pun) psychological experiments like Cantabella’s and helped him stay in the shadows.

All the NPCs in St. Mystere and Folsense are dead. I make fun of this type of theory later, but they’re admittedly captivating. I’m pretty sure the canon in CV is that the villagers are Bruno and Augustus’s OCs that they made robots of and built a town around, but it’s more interesting to think that the village was there before, and the townspeople died of a plague and were replaced like Lady Violet. In Folsense, there really was a plague and they never explain the NPCs there. They’re either real people who appear way younger than they are due to hallucinations (even the ones who already look old ?), or they don’t exist at all, which is pretty spooky. This part of the story is a gaping plot hole. In a similar vein to CV, the edgy yet plausible theory is that they used to live in Folsense but died of the plague and now live on as hallucinations.

Hershel seeing everything as a puzzle is a coping mechanism for all his trauma. This was a joke but I thought about it for more than five seconds and it makes way too much sense.

Plot holes and unexplained questions that we like to overthink because it’s fun

The downfall of the Azran was vaguely explained in canon by people being so greedy that it lead to the civilization collapsing. It’s not a stretch to imagine that happening, but it would’ve been more interesting with a little more detail.

Layton and Luke are programmed to routinely forget how to walk. I didn’t know whether to list this in the joke section or not, but it’s odd that the characters actively participate in the walking tutorial (as opposed to showing a little memo to the player) as if they didn’t know how to before, especially when they go through this several times a year.

The truth behind Pavel. He’s simply a joke character who teleports, is a polyglot (sort of, at least he wants us to think he is) and is mega confused all the time. He’s a fun character to make crack theories about because of his cryptic nature that even he doesn’t seem to understand.

Miracle Mask deleted scenes. The first trailer for MM featured animations that were not in the final game. One was the Randall falling scene, except in a slightly different style than the one we know. Others were completely foreign, like Layton and Luke pacing across a theatre stage as if Layton’s about to expose someone with a dramatic point. Cut content and “could’ve beens” are always curious to think about.

Evan Barde: secret mastermind. Arianna and Tony’s dad is a mysterious character who died under mysterious circumstances. I think the canon is that his death was a genuine accident, but concept art of him making a creepy evil face suggests that maybe he originally had a larger role in the first drafts of LS than the finished game.

The secret to how Paul and Des pull off their disguises is unclear and will remain unclear. There is no plausible explanation for their shape shifting. Unless Paul is just a little dude wearing a human suit like that one Wizard of Oz species and Des is the best quick-changer ever and hides his naturally feminine legs under his cloak.

Alfendi’s mom. When LBMR came out people scrambled to piece together who Hershel had a kid with, but there’s no way alfendi is his biological son. This happened with Kat as well and her biological parents turned out to be brand new characters, so I’m sure Al will get an adoption backstory if his arc continues, be his parents old major characters or nameless, faceless NPCs.

Granny Riddleton and Stachenscarfen are omnipotent deities. Idk which section this fits best under, but these two characters have some serious power. At first introduction, they’re implied to be robots, but they appear everywhere in later games. They follow the Professor wherever he goes and assist him on his adventures, GR collecting puzzles and housing them by some odd magic, and Stachen teaches you how to walk. They both introduce and supervise the gameplay. By extension, I guess this idea could apply to Albus as well in the prequels. GR and Stachen even had the power to appear in LMJ, something no major character could do. I consider them akin to the velvet room attendants from the Persona games.

Clive’s kill count is a vague subject in the game for the sake of keeping it PG. I don’t know if anyone’s ever mathematically estimated the damage he caused, and I sure don’t want to try, but the game appears to push the idea that he didn’t kill anyone at all, saying they stopped him in the nick of time and things like that, even though we watch him raze the city. If they ever want to bring him back post-time skip, I can see them twisting it so that the mobile fortress cutscene wasn’t a linear sequence of events, but instead a compilation of scenes over the course of hours so that London neighborhoods around him could be evacuated and have it make sense. Knowing Level-5, it’s more likely that they wouldn’t think this deep and do something more lazy, though.

Memes and references

Post-time skip Flora is real references the famous L is real theory from Super Mario 64. Like Luigi in SM64, Flora was also a highly anticipated character who didn’t appear in a new game, in this case LMJ or LMDA. In the end, Luigi did become real in the DS port so hopefully Flora is real will be realized as well.

Hershel can’t read is a veteran fandom meme referring to how in the first few games, especially Curious Village, Layton asks Luke to read every document out loud for him. Perhaps this was an exercise to improve Luke’s reading skills and independent thinking, or perhaps he was just too lazy or preoccupied to do it himself, but this grew into the joke that our genius Professor was actually illiterate this whole time.

Layton’s smash invitation is hidden in PLvsAA. It’s no secret that the fandom would kill a man to get the Professor into the smash brothers franchise. In PLvsAA one of the puzzle artworks features a goat eating a familiar white envelope with a red stamp, sparking the joke that either Layton or Wright got the invitation their respective fans desired, but it got lost along the way.

The science board is the mysteriously vague organization Don Paolo got kicked out of for the crime of being evil. It’s the epitome of liberal arts majors and art school graduates trying to bs their way around not knowing any science and failing miserably. “He was very good at all the sciences, but then the CEO of science told him to stop because he was using the power of science for evil science”. They do this again when “Dr. Stahngun” describes his time machine what with the soolha coils and whatnot.

Hoogland is death cult initiation is a parody of “Mario 64 is Freemason initiation” which is ridiculous, just like the creepy human sacrifice subplot of AL.

You can see the reflection of someone watching you in Aurora’s eye references the famous, creepy Talking Angela theory. In retrospect it would’ve been funnier if I said Angela instead of Aurora.

Every copy of Professor Layton is personalized references the famous “every copy of Super Mario 64 is personalized”

Clive’s fat ass in HD is a meme that originated from the announcement of UFHD, saying that half of the excited fans wanted to cry again while the other half were simply attracted to Clive. If we want to enter real bottom-section-of-the-iceberg-chart territory then let’s say Clive’s character has some sort of psychological siren properties that draw people to him like a magnet and/or Harry Styles.

Things I pulled out of my ass for shits and giggles

Infinite hint coin hack: I’m sure a tech savvy cheater could hack the game for infinite hint coins, but there’s no easy or interesting way. I don’t know why someone would do that though, considering a lot of the hints suck and there are puzzle guides on the internet.

Cringy, unused Randall villain monologue. This joke is derived from the actual scrapped MM content as well as deleted content being a popular element of iceberg charts, but it’s sadly not real. Would’ve been hilarious, though.

Last Specter Puzzle 031: Light Height tracks and records children’s intelligence level. It doesn’t, but it’s always fun to make fun of arguably THE most ridiculously difficult puzzle in the franchise. (Seriously, do they expect 7+ year olds to know trigonometry???)

Hershel struggles with tea addiction. Hershel from the games drinks tea in moderation, but the manga begs to differ. He has a tea set in the Laytonmobile, and an attempt at teatime while driving causes him to crash.

Folsense is a metaphor for Alzheimer’s. This is inspired by those edgy kids’ show theories where everyone’s in hell or something, but nobody has ever said this.

London Life is reality and the plot of the games is all in Luke’s head. That’s one way to fill every plot hole. How funny would it be if Luke made up crazy characters and stories based off his fellow townspeople Sharkboy and Lavagirl style. “This dude who lives in a castle and asks people to give him all their money for nothing in return is a vampire from 50 years ago involved in a tragic love story”.

Secret ending encoded into Tago’s Head Gymnastics. It’d be crazy if there was, and Dimitri would hound Tago for the secret to time travel. If you didn’t know, the Layton games started as an adaption of Akira Tago’s puzzle series, except they decided to add a story to make it more interesting and marketable.

Daily puzzles datamine your DS. I’m bad with technology but is it even possible to datamine a DS??? Idk, but I think my DS lite from 2008 is safe.

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no-brain-just-akutagawa · 2 years

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i am so curious now, how did aftg get you into bsd?

Oh my.

*record scratch*

You might be wondering how I ended up in this situation.

So it’s not like it grabbed me by an ankle and threw me right into bsd (however it would be just as fitting), but it set off the weirdest plan I’ve ever made. Buckle up, because by the end of this story, you will have lost some brain cells. Also a slight spoiler warning, though I won’t say any names. More under the cut, because it’s quite a long story actually.

So it all begins one random evening in June 2021. I’ve just finished heartstopper like 10 minutes ago and now I’m bored to the moon and back. I think well I’d like to read a book so I check my to-read-later list and there it is. All for the game. Alrigthy, now I’ll be set for at least 3 days, I think and start the first volume. I finish it at midnight, but I want more so I immediately start the second one. At 2 am I fall asleep. I wake up at like 10 am and I finish the second book. I take my dog on a walk, come back and start the third book. By this time my brain is 100% liquid, but it’s the most fun I’ve had in months. I take one more break for a late lunch and some shopping, come back home and finish the last book.

You might think it’s very random like girl why are you telling this story but it’s important for you to know I’ve never read a whole trilogy faster. Like 3 books in 26 hours?? Idk how people do it on a daily basis, I felt like my brain was done for it. So that was special and idk what kind of hormones my brain started producing but I was like I NEED MORE. But of course the trilogy was over and the extra materials weren’t all that interesting, and I ran out of fics to read in like a month. Yet I wasn’t going to give up on my endorfin rush (or whatever it was) so I was like I need to make a plan. Let’s do it strategically.

I made it my summer mission to find something that’ll give me the same emotional experience as aftg, which I call the Rush.

There were 4 important parts of this plan:

people seemed to be comparing this trilogy to anime like the whole industry, so I was like I should probably look for an anime (I’ve seen a few anime before so it wasn’t that big of a potential change)

exy is a sport, so maybe a sport anime? Something set in school?

there are lgbt+ themes, so maybe I’m just in a mood for an lgbt+ story (like always so nothing new there)

there’s mafia – funnily enough I said nah I had watched jojo part 5 before and it didn’t give me that rush, so why would another story with mafia do so (and look where I am now that’s irony, a literal irony)

And so my search began.

I started with a book and it wasn’t it. It was a good book but nowhere near the level of the Rush. Now I was sure it HAD TO be an anime. There was simply no other option (told you, no brain cells were used during this whole process). Funnily enough I went straight to jojo part 4 for idk what reason. Like idk what prompted me to go there but I did. Then I remembered I was supposed to be checking out some sport anime and I went for Haikyuu which gave me some rush but after finishing it wasn’t really lingering, so I continued my search while finishing jojo part 4. As I finished Haikyuu, my instagram began to be flooded by different fanarts and memes, and then I saw a fanart of Langa from sk8 the infinity (thanks algorithm, you did well) and I was like waaaait I've heard about this show. So I sat down to watch it and binged it in one sitting. And I thought yeah that’s it, that’s the Rush. But wait a minute, it’s too short, oh no the Rush is leaving me!!

Conclusion: I need something longer.

So I went back to jojo part 4, which again was a blast to watch (it made me appreciate jojo in all its quirkiness), and it reminded me that dio is a vampire and as you may know, I like vampires. This in turn reminded me that vanitas no carte was supposed to be coming out around this time. So I went to google vanitas no carte but as the first season was still ongoing I was like, you know what, I’ll wait until it finishes before deciding what to do with it. But instagram kept giving me spoilers and I saw people comparing gojo (from jjk, which I also watched in hope to get the Rush but as you can imagine it didn’t click this way) to vanitas and some dude called dazai who was from bsd. I was like hmm bsd reminds me of something else, but I’m a curious goose, so I went to google it, very scared, and it turned out that bsd is actually an anime about a detective agency and not what I expected it to be, and I was like… yeah whatever I don’t care, that's not what I'm looking for.

Now I was sure the rush was gone, I’ve been defeated by my own hubris. I flew too close to the sun and nothing was going to compare. So in that mood I went to tumblr to search for some franz kafka quotes because this man just always gets it. And then I see some people talking about a new chapter and I’m like a new chapter of what exactly?? Hasn’t kafka been dead for like 80 years or something?? A posthumous release? And what is an asagiri? A title? So a googled it and surprise, surprise! I see bsd AGAIN. I’m like you know what I don’t care anymore, people say that the characters are very pretty, so I might as well watch it just to forget about the failure that’s been my very-much-unhiged-with-zero-chance-of-working plan and then I'll go back to my search.

I turn on the first episode and I’m like waaait it’s actually good?? Like yeah silly, but way better than I expected and I feel the mutual understanding between me and Atsushi grow, so that's VERY GOOD. I see the opening and the ending at the end and I’m like oooh do they have any meaningful connections to the plot, because it seems like it? Who are these people? So instead of watching the second episode I decided to do a quick research consisting on going to the wiki and trying to figure out who is that emo dude that seems to take half of the ending for himself and who I'm probably not gonna like (jokes on me, oh jokes on me). And then I see his description with the undead written under the status. I’m like undead?? in what way?? So I start reading about him more and I see that he’s apparently a vampire. And I go WHOA NOBODY TOLD ME THERE ARE VAMPIRES HERE. And so I went back to watching bsd, the Rush came back and it’s been here ever since. I thought it was going to go away, so that's why I made this account to kinda keep myself busy not to lose it, but I still thought it was going to be lost again for some time. And now it’s still going strong and even has a friend in the form of the jojo part 6 Rush, so everything worked out perfectly in the end.

And that’s the story how my dumbest plan produced better results than I could have ever imagined.

And if you're wondering how long this mission lasted - 6 weeks. Literally 6 weeks.

[a quick info: all the things I mentioned are fantastic and I highly recommend them. Rush or no Rush, they are wonderful and I'm a fan of them all!]

#could I just say well it made me feel things so I watched a few anime to feel the same things instead of turning it into a life-changing #summer mission impossible type of deal? yeah sure #but where's the fun in that #also it's hysterical how some people are like vampires? in my bsd? I'm out and then I'm like OMG THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT I CAME HERE FOR #it really shows how different people have different tastes in fiction #I really like how in the end everything fell perfectly into place #and if you're thinking girl what were you on?? I'm always this chaotic with everything in life #sorry if this answer was too long haha #asks

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sanerontheinside · 2 years

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Shifting sands, sudden storms (title)

For the life of me, I don’t know if this was complete or not anymore. If complete, why still in draft form? If not, what was I thinking? Ah well.

I can, roughly speaking, date this ask. I remember doing the title prompt meme into March of 2018; I remember this because some witty anon submitted 10 titles in one ask and my poor brain shut down. (I’d informally set myself a goal of writing at least a short ficlet for every prompt, which was my first mistake. No shade on the anon either, they weren’t to know. But now I still have a file full of 40-41 titles for which I think one day I might write something.)

anyway this prompt is so old it tagged norcumi’s old blog, which tumblr [also] ate, so I’ve gone and edited that

Eeyyyyy, whaddup, this fic also decided to be part of the Mandalorian Sith ‘verse (which has also adopted another title prompt for ‘verse lore purposes, but that one—I have an idea for it, but I don’t necessarily know how to write the idea. yet.)

Y’all can definitely thank @norcumii for the fact that this fic is Jango&Shmi centric.

“All right, Quin, what do you want?” Obi-Wan drawled. If Quinlan was calling him, then clearly some mission had gone sour. Obi-Wan was still trying to shake off the last time he’d helped him out of trouble with Aayla. And wash the bitter aftertaste of glitteryl out of the back of his mouth.

Qui-Gon squeezed Obi-Wan’s shoulder as he shifted past him, leaving the cockpit to them for some semblance of privacy while he made tea in the ship’s small, but rather practical galley. He hadn’t enjoyed that jaunt into Twi’lek slave trade any more than Obi-Wan had.

“Look, um… It’s a touchy subject. Chancellor Valorum asked Master and me for a favour, he wanted us to take a look at the Trade Federation’s blockade around Naboo.”

“Thought the Senate was supposed to approve all the Jedi assignments now,” Obi-Wan probed carefully. It was a very recent ruling, at that, less than a month old.

“Yeah, hence the favour. We weren’t supposed to be there, and the Trade Federation—whoever’s running the company now grew a pair of gills or something. They blew up our ship, Ben. Then deployed an entire invasion force onto the planet.”

Obi-Wan winced. “Oh, that sounds like fun. What did they want with Naboo, anyway? They’re still fighting over the plasma trade?”

“Naboo’s holding up well, their new Queen—Amidala—well, it’s her first year of rule, but she doesn’t buckle under pressure. They tried to get her to sign a treaty that would make Naboo a protectorate of the Federation. We know how that goes…”

Obi-Wan snorted. “Right. So you got her out.”

“Jumped the blockade. The Naboo pilots are competent, but I miss outrunning smugglers with you and Garen, honest to Force. We got hit, took damage to the hyperdrive. Had to refit—on Tatooine, of all places.”

Obi-Wan grimaced. “Hutts.”

“Sand. Heat. Slaves. Pod races. Anyway, we found this kid, or I should say he found us. He helped us out—a lot—and he’s a blazing nova in the Force, Ben, I’m not kidding. He’s—no one’s ever seen anything like it. Tholme and I, we thought we could buy them out and take them back with us to Coruscant. I mean if you just met him—”

Obi-Wan sat forward sharply and dropped his feet to the floor. “So did you buy them out?”

“Just the kid,” Quin said, audibly deflating. “The owner’s deep in debt. He wouldn’t let the mom go for anything. But I can’t just think of leaving her there, without her son, even. Ben, you could—you and Qui-Gon, you could do something, couldn’t you?”

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow at the audio pickup, fairly sure Quin knew him well enough to hear even silent gestures by now. “What do you want us to do, burn the owner’s house down?”

Quinlan snorted. “Nah, he’s not a bad sort. Well, not the worst. Has faults like anyone else, Ben, you know how it goes. But if you could do anything for the mom… Shmi Skywalker, that’s her name.”

“And you’re sure the Council won’t give you funds for a good cause,” Obi-Wan prompted, but really it was just to confirm what he was sure he already knew.

“Nope. For a slave woman, Ben. She’s—Watto’s really deep in debt. He’d ask for a small fortune.”

Obi-Wan sighed and sat back, sensing Qui-Gon standing in the entry behind him. He knew their schedule and their situation even without asking, but Tatooine… “We can’t, right now,” he said, regretful. “We might know someone in the area, though. Maybe. It’ll be a little while, but we’ll let you know once we get it.”

“Thank you, Ben.” Quin’s relief and sincerity were heartfelt, almost broadcast in a physical wave from the speakers. “May the Force be with you both.”

“And you,” Obi-Wan answered, automatically, flipping the switch off.

There was a moment’s thoughtful silence. “Well,” Qui-Gon said. “Jango?”

“He’s—in the general vicinity of Tatooine,” Obi-Wan allowed.

“That is true. He’ll not want to miss a meeting with that client, however.”

“Why are we letting him do that, by the way?” Obi-Wan asked, watching Qui-Gon slip back into his seat with a sigh.

“It’s his choice,” Qui-Gon shrugged.

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

This sigh was longer and deeper. “What we know, Obi-Wan, is not enough. We don’t know what Dooku is planning; we suspect that he isn’t working alone, but is, rather, under someone’s control; we don’t know why he wants Fett, who would gladly kill my former Master with his bare hands if given the opportunity, for Galidraan. He must have had very compelling reason not to strangle Dooku on the spot.

“We don’t know nearly enough, Apprentice. It would be foolish to lose our lives by interfering, with what little we do know. We cannot help if we are dead.”

Obi-Wan’s lips thinned into a pale line. “I understand, Master. I worry that the cost will be… untenable.”

“So do I.” Qui-Gon reached across the space between them and grasped Obi-Wan’s shoulder, iron-gripped, yet reassuring still. “I have little gift in Foresight, unlike you, but even I sense a great disturbance in the future. It is nebulous, but every day less a likelihood than a certainty. You are right, Obi-Wan, but I fear our deaths will not prevent that cost, only add to it.”

Obi-Wan leaned into the hand on his shoulder, just a little. He’d take what comfort from it that he could get—hells, he’d bask in it, if only for a moment. “I’ll comm Jango,” he said quietly.

The hand on his shoulder squeezed, and did not let go.

~~~~~~~~~

Jango roundly cursed the jetiise every chance he got—which would be every other breath, if he didn’t have to save it to make his way through the heat. The internal life support system of the beskar’gam was supposed to handle this sort of thing, but was barely keeping up with Tatooine’s suns. But it was midday, and Jango was the only idiot outside, so he supposed it was probably his own fault.

He really needed to get the enviro-controls updated. He could afford it now, anyway, and his target was a junk shop owner. If Jango’s luck held, someone at the shop might have experience with Mandalorian work, though he wasn’t really counting on that. The best he expected from this venture was to maybe scavenge a few reasonably functional replacement parts.

The junk shop itself wasn’t hard to find. It was a relief to be out of the Tatooine suns, though his HUD took a few seconds to adjust to the relative darkness within. At least that let up some of the pressure on the life support system.

It wouldn’t have surprised him if the shop were empty. Many desert settlements ran on a different schedule; new arrivals quickly learned to sleep through the hottest part of the day to escape heat stroke, burns, or excessive and dangerous dehydration. To add insult to injury, here the light of the suns was reflected back almost completely from the sands, and that could do irreparable damage to one’s eyes. Jango noticed a being or two whose species had adapted to thrive in such conditions, but they too had taken to the shelter of a dwelling or a cantina fairly quickly.

But he’d been told that the owner of the junkshop was in dire financial straits; it seemed a safe enough bet that he would find a slave working through what ordinarily might have been rest-hours.

When he finally caught sight of her, Jango had to bite back a litany of harsh curses in Jinn’s name.

Jango hadn’t known what this job was for. The dar’jetii had simply handed him a lump sum in mixed Cho Mar and Wupiupi dataries, then given him the name of a slave for purchase. Honestly, if he and Jinn hadn’t both been in the same arena at Galidraan, Jango might have considered pulling details out of the man at gunpoint. Who was this Shmi Skywalker? Why did her freedom come at such a cost? What the hell was Jinn asking him to do, really—start some sort of fresh war among the Tatooine Hutts? In which case Jinn and Kenobi could please handle it on their own, and thank you.

Now that he’d caught sight of her, Jango couldn’t have cared less. He knew her; met her after Galidraan, loaded up with the others from the arena in the hold of a ship too shabby for words, angry and injured and half-mad with grief for the loss of his clan.

Shmi has been the closest to a Healer that the slaves had on that ship, and Jango probably owed her his life.

He’d been staring too long. Shmi looked up, right at him, and Jango belatedly remembered what the beskar’gam looked like to those who’d never been on Mandalore before. It was a warrior’s suit of armour, and the sharp look in Shmi Skywalker’s eye was a wary one, certainly not a look of recognition.

“Choy? Stuta che poonoo mo azal?”1

Jango undid the seals and took off the helmet. “Excuse me. You wouldn’t happen to have updated processors for mobile life support systems?”

The look Shmi gave him was searching, and it pinned him in place for almost a moment too long before she broke away. Shmi carved a systematic path through the junkshop detritus, directed him over to something that actually looked like patches to mobile life support suits with a nonstop stream of available models for him to narrow down. It took a few tries, but he did find what he needed, and even a few spare parts that would never go amiss.

“I hadn’t thought you would have so much here of Mandalorian make,” he noted, a little surprised. “It’s fairly unique work.”

“It is,” Shmi agreed. “The previous owners of the parts you are holding now had a run of bad luck, and upset Gardulla. She doesn’t like cardsharps at her sabacc table.”

Jango frowned down at the parts he’d laid out on the worktable in front of him. “I’ll make a note of it.”

Not that he was here to play sabacc. He had more than enough money to get what he came here for. He just wanted to have a better grasp on the details before he went any further.

~~~~~~~~

Shmi had recognised him almost immediately. It was one of those things she knew with a bone-deep certainty, the way Ani used to tell her of certain things before they happened. They were just hints, but even his words seemed to hold a ring of fact to them, and it was up to Shmi to decipher future-fact from other kinds.

She’d been dreaming about Galidraan. Not, surprisingly, of the broken people who’d been brought aboard there, but of their burning, fierce warrior faces full of light. Shmi dreamt of Jango fighting alongside a tall man with flashing amber eyes that could be both terrifying and kind, and felt as though she should know him, too. But he hadn’t been on the ship with the others, so she supposed that would come to mean something in a peripheral, patient, dripping-cave-water sort of way.

But Jango’s purpose for calling on Watto’s shop was the variable her mild foresight could not account for. When a figure encased in that armour stepped in, Shmi’s first thought was that another bounty hunter had called to collect Watto’s debt to the Hutts. Never mind that the Hutts had already collected their due—the Hutts also never discouraged their ‘messengers’ from looting.

Instead, Jango had bought parts from the very armour worn by an ill-fated pair of previous messengers. (Shmi had been lucky enough to have Watto’s help, and between the two of them they’d made just enough noise to discourage the looters when they’d come to call. Gardulla anger had probably been a lucky stroke for Watto and Shmi; otherwise, they might have expected another attempt the next day.)

Shmi eyed the spread of parts and odd bits of circuitry, and wondered if he was going to fix all of it himself.

“Where are you staying?” Shmi asked. “At the hotel?”

Jango hesitated. “I have—my ship.”

“On the outskirts? Far to walk, with a semi-functional suit at best.”

Shmi offered him a place to sleep in her quarters, and latemeal, and assistance with reprogramming the suit’s computer besides. There was a storm coming, and in return for the stay he’d help her prepare meals for however long the storm raged, and cover the windows and cracks in the door. That was all the payment she needed.

Her home felt empty now, since she’d given Anakin to the Jedi. At least for one night, it might not seem so desolate. The Slave Row would gossip, she knew; but they would always talk, about everything, and offering a pallet to a freeman who couldn’t afford a hotel was not so unheard of.

Jango helped her prepare dinner and tea, and kept her talking. Shmi couldn’t recall how or when they’d gotten to the subject of family, but when she told him of her son, something eased in him. He became less a hunter, wound tight and wary, and a wistfulness crept into his gaze. Shmi knew that look, if she’d seen it rarely.

What of your own family? she wanted to ask, but caught the words back before they could emerge. She didn’t know what had happened to Jango before he’d been loaded up with the others on Galidraan, but Shmi was no fool, either. Jango Fett had never carried himself as anything other than a freeman-warrior, and his fever had left him plagued with horrors all too real not to be fresh and recent memory. She heard whispers from the other slaves, about the loss of an entire clan.

A son, he whispered softly, and Shmi wondered what this man was doing on here on Tatooine, earning a living as a bounty hunter on the dangerous fringes of civilisation. Of course, he wouldn’t say.

But there was a light in his eye that spoke of possibility, and that alone warmed Shmi’s heart.

Later that night, as she settled down to sleep in her room, exhausted, she heard the tell-tale scuff of quiet booted feet pass out through the door and onto the stairs, and caught a whiff of tabacc. Shmi wondered, briefly, what Jango was thinking of, before she drifted off to sleep.

The next day she woke to a sandstorm howling outside and sighed.

~~~~~~~~~~

After years of working with them, Jango was well aware that that Jinn and his quiet shadow weren’t really Jedi. He just didn’t feel like letting go of the suspicion, especially knowing who Jinn’s Master was. Still, Jango could probably acknowledge that it was mostly paranoia humming in his skull. Jinn’s reputation as a diplomat held fast in certain circles, but any association with the Order had eroded over the years.

Of course, Jinn still worked with Jedi, which never failed to set Jango’s teeth on edge when Jinn asked him for ‘help’. Most times, the man made sure Jango didn’t have to cross paths with members of the illustrious Order; and even when he did, Jango found himself working with the wilder sort, the jetiise who lived hard on the Outer Rim along with everyone else, or hovered just on the edge of completely cracked.

Perhaps it was telling that altogether there were few Jedi whom Jinn trusted. Jango could count them on one hand. There was the Weequay and his younger Twi’lek partner who’d been harrying slave traders for the last three decades, both looking every inch of Rim pirate. Then there was the Kiffar—Jango never wanted to be on his wrong side. They were all a bit rough around the edges, but Vos was a different kind of crazy.

Jango himself had a limited contract with Jinn, if one could even call it that. He agreed to help out Jinn on the basis of time spent together in a cell and a fighter arena on Galidraan, and Jinn had earned Jango’s respect on shaky ground. What struck him at the time was how Jinn had looked when Jango mentioned the woman Dooku had with him, Komari. Whatever damage Dooku had left Jinn with, that man understood the importance of family. Jango saw it in the way Qui-Gon looked after Obi-Wan, in the way Obi-Wan kept either an eye or an ear on Jinn; in the way the two fought, making space for each other like flowing water. These were people who understood that family was more than blood, more than shit guardians who were supposed to look after you.

Which was why, Jango thought, Qui-Gon knew exactly what had motivated Jango to accept Dooku’s offer. Kenobi had been furious, but Jango thought that was more incidental than directed at him personally. It wasn’t as though the idea of Count Dooku creating an army was a particularly savoury idea in any context.

But Dooku had come to Jango Fett with an offer, claiming that the soldiers would all be his clones. That made it Jango’s army.

Jango wanted his family back—the True Mandalorians, all of them. All those men and women who had been cut down on Galidraan decades ago. Part of him still wanted to rip out Dooku’s throat with his bare hands. But that ache for his family—that was so much stronger.

The clones… it wouldn’t be the same. It couldn’t be. Yes, Mandalorians were trained for to fight, prepared for anything. But those clones of himself—not only did was it strange to think about, millions of copies of Jango Fett, living apart from him—but he couldn’t put out of his mind the simple fact that these were men bred for slaughter. Jango would train them, yes; he would give them everything they needed to survive. But a cold certainty sat in his gut, that not a single one of these soldiers was meant to live past whatever war they’d been created for.

If Qui-Gon could sense what Jango wanted, what he intended to make of these clones, then he likely knew of their intended fates, as well. It wasn’t as though the dar’jetii was stupid. Obi-Wan, too: Jango couldn’t read the boy on his best days, but when he’d told them about Dooku’s offer he’d felt the air heat around the redhead, smelled ozone, and could have sworn he’d seen sparks fly about Jinn’s Apprentice while Jinn wasn’t looking. The entire time Kenobi’s face had been smooth with implacable calm. Jango had been, admittedly, quite impressed by that.

And a little turned on, but gods knew Jinn would have cut off something important if Jango had so much as thought of making a move. And that was if Kenobi didn’t get there first.

Dooku had, however, offered him a very impressive sum of money for the privilege of training Mandalorian warriors. Money was of a distant concern to Jango after family, but then, this was the kind of money that took care of everything. This was the kind of buy-a-moon retirement haul smugglers and thieves dreamed of—and only when high out of their heads on spice, at that.

It had almost been enough to keep him quiet, but in the end he hunted down the dar’jetiise anyway and told Jinn and Kenobi about it. He figured Jinn would probably like to know that Dooku was trying to manipulate Bando Gora business, anyway. Mostly, though, Jango had made up his mind when Dooku asked him to kill the new leader of Bando Gora. Hells, Jango hadn’t enjoyed telling Qui-Gon that his ‘sister’ was completely out of her skull on deathsticks, or that Komari was the power behind the sudden expansion of the deathstick trade.

~~~~~~~~~~

1Choy? Stuta che poonoo mo azal? = What? [Are you] looking for business or trouble?

Note: Azalus = dangerous or hazardous.

Huttese does not actually have a word for trouble, surprisingly. So, in the spirit of making your own: trooba is trouble, but azal quite specifically indicates you’re gonna get deadly trouble, or at least you’ll fucking hurt when I’m through with you, the fuck do you want with this shop?

Shmi could probably live up to that threat, even.

Trooba is a step above nuisance (hotshuh). Can also be used to cover anything from ‘expensive spice-dumping, tail-squishing smuggler’ to Sy Snootles. It’s also entirely possible it’s a borrowed or corrupted word from Basic.

#Jango Fett #Shmi Skywalker #Mandalorian!Qui-Gon #Mandalorian Sith 'verse #Qui-Gon Jinn #Obi-Wan Kenobi #Quinlan Vos #wild ficcage and au spawn #Anonymous #this prompt is so old it tagged norcumi’s old blog

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noa-nightingale · 3 years

Text

Queer Watcher 2020

I am looking back on this weird, not-so-wonderful year - and on the ways @wearewatcher made my 2020 so much more wonderful. Originally, I wanted to list all the highlights I could think of, but one of the things I am most grateful for is Watcher’s inclusion and support of LGBTQ+ folks. I am just one queer person but I know there are many more in this fandom.

So, this ended up being a list of things I, as a queer person, appreciate and enjoy, and I am so so happy that I can write this. Buckle up, I have Things to say, and it is going to be emotional.

Ryan’s Pride shoes. I sometimes wonder how many sales Converse owes him. I love my own pair btw.

“Look, all I’m sayin’ is, y’know, hey, uh, love everybody.” - Shane Madej, Gangly Puppet Freak. A PSA from the Weird/Wonderful Shakespeare Theatre vid, regarding bisexuality - he is so awkward with it lmao. Whole video has really great vibes too.

Steve/Stephanos.

Various tweets, including wishing us a happy Non-Binary People’s Day and a happy Trans Awareness week.

Ryan and Shane including their pronouns in their twitter bio. (Little things like this don’t go unnoticed, and they are very appreciated.)

Gay Oars! Ugh, my heart. Their first appearance totally caught me off guard, and I haven’t recovered since. (I also causes me no small amount of joy that the most romantic and tragic song of all time is called “Gore on the Shore”.) I could yell about my love for these guys all day. It is a beautiful thing that these characters exist.

Gay Oars, again - I knew they would show up and I still was not prepared. The song made me cry. I haven’t recovered from that one either. I love the progression from the first, tragic song to the second, joyful and loving song. I have so many emotions about these oars, I probably could make an entire list just for them. (Little fun fact: Even though the song made me cry, my first reaction to that episode was to go on tumblr and yell about it excitedly. Like, I was emotional but in an enthusiastic kind of way. The more difficult emotions hit me about four days later, for some reason. And then I sat in my room and cried my eyes out. Like, as much as I like being queer, sometimes it is just damn hard and the pain seems too much and you have been hurt over and over and don’t know if you can ever recover from it. And it is just really good to know that someone cares about your wellbeing as a queer person. Even if you have never spoken to that someone and he does not even know of your existence. And to be honest, I don’t always know how to deal with that. The kindness? The genuine allyship? I have no idea how to handle that, and it simultaneously heals and breaks my heart.)

Every time the words “his boyfriend” were uttered; I am especially thinking of Are You Scared here.

All the fan art Watcher inspired and continues to encourage and to support. There are many great artists in the fandom! And Watcher’s content inspires me to draw and create more myself! How wonderful!

Toxic masculinity who? It is nowhere to be found.

This... special kind of gentle and kind weirdness? It honestly had such a positive impact on me and the way I interact with other people and let them interact with me.

All of the wonderful people Watcher brought in. I am sure they will work with more amazing folks and I am really looking forward to that. Personally, I am hoping to see Eugene Lee Yang at some point. (Would be really happy to see Thomas Sanders too.)

Here’s What You Do. Just the whole podcast. It was such a delight.

I was hesitant to include this because I believe many of us have negative memories attached to it, and it was not a fun time for anyone (including the lovely people at Watcher themselves). But, yes, I am mentioning it: That one HWYD episode and the follow-up. I can only speak for myself, but the follow-up has an incredibly special place in my heart. To me, it is one of the most important videos Watcher has created. I watched it several times, I journaled about it extensively and it made me a better ally. Hell, I even showed it to my mother and one of my siblings (like, the entire video). I know it was a difficult thing to talk about but at this point: A HUGE thank you to Steven, Ryan, Katie and Shane for handling this in an absolutely fantastic way. I feel welcome and seen and appreciated, and in the end all I want is this: For people to genuinely give a shit about me as a queer person.

On a more lighthearted note, I enjoy it way too much that Ryan is able to say “LGBTQ” without stumbling over the letters. It seems like such a tiny thing but it brings me an unholy amount of joy.

The Professor. I don’t want to call him LGBTQ+ because that has not been confirmed as canon but he IS comfortable wearing clothes that are typically seen as “women’s clothing”, and as a trans/non-binary person I am kind of obligated to mention it.

I think I had an out of body experience when Ryan said “Oh thank you baby” to Steven in Too Many Spirits. Then I had to pause the episode to finish laughing. And then they brought it back in the next episode. Bless them.

Every time they/them pronouns were said.

The entire Hatshepsut PH episode. What can I say, I like it when gender norms/expectations/roles are broken. And even if we can’t call Hatshepsut trans by today’s standards, declaring yourself another gender has such power.

Without giving too many details: I had my struggles and problems in the past with Christianity and ~certain~ Christian people, and it is really good (and I mean REALLY good) to see someone whose faith and integrity are so interwoven and who is inspired by his faith to do good things and to do right by people. I obviously only know the things about his belief that Steven decides to put on the internet but what I’ve seen is almost healing to me, in a way. I am very grateful and happy that he is willing to educate others and to keep working on himself. Warms my heart.

The certainty with which these beautiful people call themselves allies.

Just... the general kindness and compassion, and the willingness to listen and to grow. I promise you, we notice and we love you for it.

I could have expanded on all of these points but I tried to keep this short.

And look. I don’t want to put anyone on a pedestal; that would not be fair. I am just immensely grateful for kind people who genuinely care and who genuinely try to do right by others and to bring joy to others.

And I know we like to have fun here but Watcher’s content is just a lot more than entertaining, meme-able fun (although it is that too, of course).

I had a blast with it this year and I am very much looking forward to the next year. I feel like I can’t adequately put into words the myriad of little (and not so little) ways these people have made my life better this year. Thank you from the bottom of my aroace, non-binary heart.

#watcher #steven lim #ryan bergara #shane madej

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flightofaqrow · 3 years

Text

YOUR CHARACTER IN FIVE QUOTES!

( repost, do not reblog. ) Tell us your favorite quotes from your character. Give us an idea of who they are by five things they’ve said.

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Alright, buckle up, I’m stealing this meme and repurposing it for my own use. Probably more than five, and including some quotes from others about him, though I’m going to try to keep it in groupings, and also not meant to be exhaustive of qrow’s character, but rather, to point out some very poignant lines that have effected my portrayal and... some possibly in an unpopular way compared to what I’ve seen in the fandom? I think Qrow Branwen is more complex than fitting the broody broken boi trope would give credit for (though he at least fits it as an overall stereotype).

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1) I’m absolutely sure Qrow had a rough start and transition from the tribe to ‘civilized society’, coupled with typical teenage hormones and mood swings, but generally, Beacon was a good time, and he sees himself as a good huntsman, and (though we may joke about it sometimes) he absolutely does not have an active nor passive death wish.

Yeah, yeah, I know he has a song all about how he self depreciates and carries shame, but that’s a theme of his attitude, not backed up to be every single aspect of his life by actual canon. Quite the contrary.

I don’t know where fndm gets the idea that he constantly lost his battles (especially to Raven) or was perpetually looked down on or stayed an angsty, broody teenager (who could never possibly have ever even breathed a single happy breath on his own without Summer??) all four years. As if school was hell and he never came into his own until STRQ was a graduated unit or something? If ever?

Leo tells Raven she and her brother are evenly matched. Raven herself - who takes pride in being stronger and more clever than others - describes them as a pair: “we were good.”

“you're talking to a member of the coolest team that graduated Beacon! ...we were pretty well known back in the day. ...hey, we looked good! and I have a number of inappropriate stories to back that up!”

“let me tell ya, these kids are way better than we were at their age. ...well, not better than me, specifically...”

“a professional huntsman like myself is expected to get results as soon as possible.”

The way Qrow talks about his past, as well as carrying a memento of team STRQ around with him, it’s very nostalgic for better times. The way he talks about his work, if not himself, can actually be to the point of being self-aggrandizing, instead of depreciating. He’s even able to admit that his dreaded semblance, Misfortune, “comes in handy in a fight.”

“lots of us thought you were just layin' low. eventually, we just came to accept that you were probably dead. but the stories about you, i based my weapon off of yours. i wanted to be as good as the Grimm Reaper.”

Qrow talks about himself as striving to be better. It seems he never really sees himself as reaching that standard, but it certainly implies he knows he’s not at the bottom - he had an ideal he wanted to reach and likely worked towards. Notice the use of “us” and “we” as well - he talks about himself as part of a group of larger huntsfolk circles. Who knows if this refers to students or licensed professionals or both, but this heavily, heavily implies that he was more than just a sad, outside loner, at least for a time; he chatted with others and traded stories about goings-on and missions and idols.

Somewhat related and leading into...

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2) At least around this blog, Qrow does not have an inferiority complex because of Raven.

Does he have some internalized shame about being soft that he can’t quite shake? A few insecurities about being unwanted compared to her natural leadership and competence? Yes. Does he consciously view himself as lesser than her? No.

Also... he’s not co-dependent on her. To a degree, for while? Yeah, there was probably an unhealthy reliance going on there. But Qrow and Raven establish themselves with their own identities at some point, they’d have to, to chose different paths so stubbornly. There’s a rift there, eventually, if not always having been at odds in some ways and comfort in others.

“Raven's got an interesting way of looking at the world that I don't particularly agree with. [The weak die, the strong live. Those are the rules.]”

“...they were killers and thieves.”

We are shown that the twins were raised with this weak/strong dichotomy. Raven bought into it, but Qrow explicitly separates himself from that belief. Shown again when he mocks Raven with, “because that was your rule, right?”

He believes in true family, he believes in protecting the weak, he believes in doing good, he believes in standing up for what’s right. He may not like being emotionally vulnerable, but he shows softness and kindness to others, and for as much as he likes his flourish when fighting, he also isn’t afraid to look an absolute fool either.

He is shown de-escalating conflict time and again, even if he also falls back into violent, defensive patterns at times, too. He resents Raven for the choices she made, and as far as I interpret, thinks she’s the lesser one for running away and abandoning her family and her mission. (Meanwhile, she thinks the same of him for turning his back on the tribe.)

He all but spits on the tribe’s way of life, is willing to attack them outright to get the Spring Maiden. Why would he judge himself by those standards any longer? No, he lives by his own code, a huntsman’s code, and even has some pride in that. It’s why he can call Clover out on it. It’s why he folds when Robyn holds him to it.

It’s why it hurts when he finds out what gave him more meaning, aligned more with his own heart, than the tribe’s dogma may not actually have any purpose at all...

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3) There’s so much to unpack here:

“No one wanted me... I was cursed... I gave my life to you because you gave me a place in this world... I thought I was finally doing some good... Meeting you... was the worst luck of my life...”

No one wanted him? I believe this means the tribe, maybe even Raven, maybe trying to make friends, but no one until Oz? Does this include STRQ? I have trouble reconciling that one with everything else we’re shown. I still maintain he was part of bigger circles, but we get confirmation that these were probably fleeting or superficial. He knew people and was known, but no one stuck around. Also more confirmation of his values. Gave me a place sounds like so much more than refocusing to me. It’s not gave me a direction, not told me what to do, it’s took who i am and gave that person a place to thrive - despite the bad that comes with - to work towards something better. Just like he always wanted.

But then he backtracks. What is it he regrets? We do know how he likes to go into dramatic hyperbole about these things when he’s upset. [eg. “we’re not family anymore.” “i shouldn’t have come. i shouldn’t have let any of you come.” “we can kill the man who put us here.” “gone. like everybody else.”] (I love that crwby lets their characters do it. we all say things we don’t mean in the moment, give voice to those intrusive thoughts.)

I’ve talked before about how I picture him having flashes of all the lives he could have had instead. Would he have gone back with Raven and at least still had her? Would he just have been a normal huntsman defending people from Grimm without the crushing extra knowledge? Might he have been able to have a relationship or family of his own had he not signed up for the vagabond spy life? Does he just resent losing Summer and Raven because of how things went down? We don’t know, and I think the point is that he probably doesn’t either, but the weight of sacrificing all those alternatives and putting so much faith in Ozpin, stacking so much of his life’s work and identity on being part of the inner circle, comes crashing down on him all at once.

also quite fitting...

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4) "Nice place to raise a family. ...If you're ...into that sort of thing."

This is from his World of Remnant narration, talking about Patch, but it hits so damn hard. The softness and warmth in the first half of the statement, followed by the harsh need to qualify it in regards to his own outlook... We learn all we need to know about his opinion of the subject.

We see the conflict right there - the possibility of such a thing brings a wholesome lilt to his voice, yet he implies that it’s not something he personally intends to pursue. Is that because he doesn’t want it or because he thinks he can’t or shouldn’t have it? I don’t think that’s clear, and he may not know either.

At the very least, I fall into the camp of him believing he doesn’t want it. Combine that with the fact that he does pick up that spy life, which makes keeping his distance a necessity, and makes settling down near impossible, and then he definitely knows it’s not in the cards for him.

So I think it ultimately falls somewhere between. Why would he make the commitment to being a lone spy if he had dreams of love and a family? ...But then why would he resent making the sacrifice of that possibility later if he didn’t?

Having his nieces around probably softened him up to the idea, but he’d already made his decision by that point. He’s also solid and generally happy with his choices at the point it would most matter. He’s married to his job. He’s fulfilling his missions well, in well-suited ways for his strengths and flaws. He has his nieces around as a balm on any sort of biological clock. He has his purpose with Oz. Until he doesn’t.

This is an incredibly long-winded way of restating that one of the headcanon hills I do stand to die on is: Gray-romantic Qrow.

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5) “some people are just born unlucky... my semblance isn't like most - it's not exactly something i... do.”

I am constantly confused by the amount of people trying to do character analysis around Misfortune and Qrow based on standard semblance lore, when he has yet again stated explicitly to the contrary. We all have carte blanche ya’ll. We can do whatever we want with this, because he’s already told us his semblance breaks the rules.

My full headcanon for it is here and my opinion about the direction I hope it takes is here but tl;dr

Unless we learn otherwise, there are very, very few ways I believe Misfortune is a reflection of Qrow’s soul, if at all. This is from the first headcanon, but it’s worth restating, because it’s important to me, aaand fits the theme of pulling in some quotes from other characters:

Everyone likes to quote Ren and his description of someone’s personality being incorporated into a semblance. I don’t buy it for qrow. Here’s the FULL quote: “A common philosophy is that a warrior’s Semblance is a part of who they are. Some say your personality and character can define your Semblance while some claim that it is the other way around. Of course, there are still many who don’t see a connection at all.”

So unless we find out otherwise I will also die on the hill that qrow is an example of the middle part. Qrow’s personality/soul has nothing to do with why his semblance is what it is, but being forced to grow up and live with Misfortune has defined him tremendously.

OKAY, there are some smaller quick ones, but I’ll stick to my five points like I promised at least, and maybe do a lesser version some other time. :]

#qrow branwen #* legends and stories; some of them true; some made up = meta *#* hey don't get mad cause i'm right = headcanon *#long post tw

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oddlyhale · 3 years

Text

As much as I begin to see the horrors of RWBY fndm and how crazed BB fans can be, there'll probably be no comparison to the psychotics I had to deal with in the HH fndm.

While I can totally find myself being tolerant with all RWBY ships, there's something territorial when it comes to HH ships. It's a different beast on its own, especially with the popular artists that can and will control their fanbase.

Boy do I have a tale of 2020 that had me deal with the mental gymnastics these wild shippers put me through. The sheer hypocrisy, the fear fans had of standing up to them, the collective harassment.

In a synopsis, before we start:

Hi, my name is Hale.

Alfa and Alex are probably the most psychotic people I’ve ever met when it comes to my online daily life. I used to think my ex-friends were the bane of my existence, but Alfa and Alex started making me think just how angelic my exes were in comparison.

So let’s begin.

When I first met the Double AAs, it was Alex first (awhile back in late-June 2020 during Vaggie Week) but it was indirect. I was on my Instagram when I was tagged by a random user in something Alex had drawn. This was when I first saw the kill art of Vaggie. I was so upset that I had yelled at this random user for tagging me, as well as showing it via screencap on my twitter, as a warning to never do this to me to my followers. Keep in mind, I had censored Alex’s name from the screencap, not the random user.

However, Alex saw this somehow and became hysterical, thinking I was targeting him for what he drew. This caused an uproar of his fans to come attack me, and it did cause me to become scared and get away from my account. Alfa decided to insert herself into the mix, but I didn’t care enough for her to say anything. It was mostly Alex and how much he was “scared” and cried about the “fandom being so hateful and scary.” He went private for a while I believe, but Alfa was still going hard at me and sending more of her fans to come harass me.

If Alex ever says he is a strong and brave man, don’t believe him. He fears the HH fandom.

Anyhow, after Alfa’s fans had done their best to gaslight me, I didn’t give in. In fact, I made amends with the random user that tagged me. Somehow they assumed I would like the art of Vaggie being killed, which was childish to even believe in. Nonetheless, I forgave them, and we moved on from there.

But even when we both resolved this together, Alfa and Alex decided that it would be fun to make this “kill Vaggie art” a meme, or trend. With their huge followings combined, they were able to get their artist fans to join in and start creating so much hate art of Vaggie. Many of them drew her head being cut off, mutilated, raped and cheated on.

Alfa and Alex adore gaslighting the hell out of people. While they draw such hideous things, they will go ahead and say, “but it’s just fiction, it’s not real,” and call you psychotic for even caring so much about their bad behaviour. I can only imagine what Alfa’s husband goes through everyday since Alfa loves to make people second-guess themselves often.

Keep in mind, Alfa and Alex are the same people who will cry and shake when their fictional ship is invalidated and written out. They often wish nothing good for Viv and her team that are providing these ungrateful children with the show and content they so badly want. It shows you just how privileged they had grown up as children, doesn’t it?

This wasn’t fun, it was horrible. I didn’t realize just how many toxic people existed in the HH fandom until this “trend” began to spread.

But the funny thing that I'll never forget is how apeshit Alfa went when I had the audacity to draw Alastor plus sized. She accused me of being a pedophile, supporting MAPs. Even though she leans towards being pro-ship (likes incest, OK with lolicon, will condone drawing necophilia.) But me? Having the sheer audacity of drawing Alastor fat? It burned her so bad.

As well, this was being pushed on the VAs during a small livestream. The chat wouldn’t stop asking, “what do you think of the Vaggie kill art going around?” Of course the VAs ignored these questions, but it was really rude to even ask these things. Especially when Vaggie’s VA was in the same livestream.

But then this trend was proven to be a lie, by Alex’s own words. He dropped the ball in a one-off conversation with an anti that “he only created this to get back at the Chaggie shippers.” So retroactively, this trend was worthless.

What also began to start becoming obvious was that Alfa was too afraid to do anything on her own, and thus, she will recruit some darlings to defend her. Alfa seems to have more defenders than she has any confidence to defend herself, and when she has no choice but to stand up for herself, she will buckle and hide. She is weak, is what I had learnt.

I decided to just ignore Alex and Alfa as much as I could. With a friend though, I was given updates of what was happening on the Double AAs’ side in the meantime, and it’s amazing to see just how vile they can be with their own fans and haters. Especially with their new puppy named Salty. (I think that’s their name, another weak ass bitch.)

As months went by, the major event that stirred from the AA camp was when they were harassing Pastel Sky. This would be where the big reveal of just how horrible the AAs and their friends truly are, when they have nobody to harass except for kids. HH has a wide audience of children involved in this fandom, hence why many other artists keep saying we should try to be good examples for them, and keep them safe. But not for the AAs.

Pastel was ruthlessly attacked by them and it was all unwarranted. What they were angry about was that Pastel had the nerve to have negative opinions when it came to AAs, and they broke their own rule of “don’t like then block.” Even Galactic Potatoes (Spuds) would go out of their way, again, to gaslight Pastel into believing that what attacks she received on Twitter was allowed, because Pastel was asking for it. Spuds is well-known to gaslight, a thing they had learnt from the AAs quite often.

Pastel was a minor at the time, and it really doesn’t matter if Pastel was just 17. I don’t care if Pastel was only 17 and that “well she’s almost 18,” because regardless of age, harassment is not the answer. Follow by that, fighting with minors is actually fucking stupid and braindead. Spuds tried very hard to justify why attacks were OK, and that Pastel “should learn” how to grow up. I then learnt that Spuds went into hiding afterwards.

That was until the Double AAs’ discord chats were exposed, showing that they were practically mouth-watering at Pastel’s pain, romanticizing her apparent abuse and trying to convince each other how her punishment on Twitter was correct. Even one (I believe was Jay because he loves me and wants me back) wished that I would die. This would be the third time he asked me to die indirectly, which justifies my points on how toxic and abusive they are.

This entire event seemed to have unraveled a new wave of truths, and it’s sad to know it had to take a literal minor to have their masks fall off.

In 2021, Alex was exposed to be a thief. Stealing commission money for “stress pills.” If Alex is on a path of drug addiction, I hope it’s not the case. That’s a terrible place to be, and hopefully he’ll be clean and grow up for once. I still don’t care enough about Alfa, after now knowing all she is, is just a dramatic housewife with nothing better to do in her life. Perhaps if they just got jobs instead of stealing money from fans, they’d be leading well-productive lives.

From what I understand, many of the toxic fans of the Double AAs have either dropped HH fandom, or have deleted their accounts. Good, I hope they stay gone. The fandom deserves better, not trash.

Needless to say, the best advice I can give to those in the HH fandom that come facing the Double AAs is to not be afraid of them.

Over time, once you get used to their behaviour, you come to realize that this is their default. They’re not likable, they’re not nice, and they aren’t appreciative of one singular thing you do for them (hence Alex stealing from his own fans.)

It’s their M.O., they are just that cruel. So don’t fear them, but challenge their behaviour. Don’t stoop to their level of wanting to draw hateful art, though, that will fuel them. Talking down to them like their idiots always works like a charm.

Anyways, thanks for reading.

If anybody from the Double AAs’ camp ever finds this and reads it, I just wanna say that you are doing a great job, sweety. Thanks for proving me right by the new year. I appreciate the honesty for once. It only took you a year, just think of what other things you’ll do in the next year.

#hazbin hotel #fndm critical #personal story #mature topics ahead #tw

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mishervellous · 3 years

Note

fiona plssss 💕✨😌

mel my love! 🥰🥰 you gave me a tough cookie didn’t you? this is a continuation of the other character breakdown ask—turns out I had a breakdown writing this 😮‍💨

FIONA MY BELOVED — AN ESSAY

How I feel about this character

okay buckle up you’re in for a ride my dear. hi I’m Paola and I am in love with Fiona Gallagher. everything started one uneventful day back in 2014, I was watching a pilot for this series—Shameless, have you heard of it? and these big, fierce brown eyes stuck with me from day 1 and never left me ever since. now that the Joycean intro is over, let me tell you: I love Fiona’s spirit so much. she is the definition of selfless—so much so that even when the authors clearly wanted us to disagree with what she was doing I was like BUT SHE DESERVES THIS!!! she gave all of herself to her kids and she deserves nice things too!!! (although that storyarc was Ian vs Fiona so let me tell you I was conflicted and my brain was mush). you just gotta love her. she’s so intense and loving and badass I don’t think I can convey how much admiration I have for her—how much love I’ve had for every single one of her storylines. even the fucked up ones! even when she was lost and fucking up left and right, I was always rooting for her because, again, she deserves it. she’s amazing, she’s incredible cue the Lady Gaga meme I LOVE HER SO MUCH 🥺🥺🥺

All the people I ship romantically with this character

there’s this character nobody ever talks about in Shameless—her name is…Paola I think? not the PO, that’s Paula; I’m talking about Paola. yeah I ship Fiona with her so much omg

no ok dnsosnsk you know that meme I’d make her better/worse? I’D MAKE HER HAPPY GRRRR I don’t think I ship her with anyone!! I think she’s too good for every single person on this planet, let alone the people she got with during her time on the show. yuck! but if I have to say someone, here’s my toxic opinions quota for the day: Jimmy/Steve/Jack/Andrew/Jennifer whatever his name is? yeah. I kinda ship them. A LITTLE BIT don’t judge me 😔

My unpopular opinion about this character

that she did nothing wrong ever? like I am the chairman for the Ian Gallagher Never Hurt Anyone committee but even with him I have some nooo sweetie ahah 💙💙 what are you doing ahah you’re so sexy noo moments, but with Fiona? if we forget the Liam storyarc (because that’s not even on the table of things that could be excused, of course), I don’t think she ever did anything out of spite/with bad intentions. I’m a simp I know ssshhh

My non-romantic OTP for this character

ok hear me out. Fiona/V. I mean it’s kinda obvious lmao those two are amazing as standalone characters and together, duh, but I just love their dynamic so much. just two best judies supporting each other through everything no big deal. I remember when they had an argument/didn’t talk with each other for whatever reason I would look at the screen like this 🥺 until they made up lol THE definition of BFF girlpower girlboss gatekeep gaslight gorgeous gals!!

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

this is gonna be the same answer for every character: NO S11 HERE. no!!! NO! forget about that. and HOS? LALALA I CAN’T HEAR YOU THAT NEVER HAPPENED LALALA. I wish they’d given her more credit. I wish she’d stuck around more. I wish she’d teared up at Ian’s wedding like the mom she was and is to him. I wish they’d loved her as much as she loved them unconditionally; I wish they’d want the best for her like she gave all of them the best of herself for so long (I am, in fact, crying rn)

#sorry this got way too deep #and way too long #but you know how it is here #fiona my sun my one my everything #pomeldoro 🍅#💙💙💙💙#ask gamez #ask

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sophxwithers · 3 years

Text

Dolores chapter thoughts

I love a good meme reaction but for my chapter 4 reaction it just doesn’t quite feel right because of the subject matter 🤷‍♀️

So instead I’m just going to ramble my thoughts instead. I’ve got a lot to say so buckle up...

For some reason babies have the softest spot in my heart (I’m far too broody for a girl my age 🤦‍♀️) so I of course got super excited about a baby storyline and then Dolores was written so perfectly I just fell in love with her instantly. So her death hit hard. I cried, properly wept, that first read and still blub like a baby today. I’d never been so affected by a choices chapter and at first I was annoyed that something meant to be escapism and fun had caused me so much pain but then I just sat back and recognised how incredibly important this chapter was.

Let’s be honest so many players are pretty young, myself included, and haven’t been exposed to those issues yet so this was an incredible use of the platform choices has to educate their players on some of the more tragic aspects of life. A power I wish they used more often because it’s part of what made open heart so special. It also shows players those darker sides of life as a doctor and added a whole new depth to the story and its characters. It’s relatively easy to write a fun friendship or a steamy romance but to be able to write such a tragic death in a realistic and beautiful way is something that takes real talent and just round of applause to the oph 1 writers 👏

It’s also the prime example of how to favour an LI. Dolores is an Ethan centric storyline and it does have the extra impact for those romancing him that I wish we got to experience with all LIs. However Dolores’s story is still incredibly impactful without Ethan and the development of his character works on a platonic level. Let’s normalise non romantic connections! I’m sure this chapter has faults but I’ve never seen any major widespread complaints about it and considering this fandom can never agree on anything that says a lot. If you’re going to prioritise Ethan and make his stories more developed then at least make the issues relevant to every player and this storyline is a perfect example of what to do! The Harper storyline is not

When I get down about the train wreck of a book that is book 3 I think back to chapter 4 because that’s when I realised open heart was something special. To me it’s the best chapter they’ve ever written.

I’ve refrained from simping too much for Ethan in this post but this chapter was when I truly fell for him, seeing that more human and vulnerable side and going through that loss together was too much for me to ignore. I was in love and there really was no going back. And I could cry over them falling asleep together all day. So we’re blaming this chapter for the amount this man has taken over my life 😂

Okay thank you for coming to my ted talk. If you’ve read all of this wow, props to you! Basically I love this chapter if that wasn’t made clear and we haven’t even got started on the other scenes. K bye love you all 🥰

#oph book club #book 1 replay

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btschooseafic · 3 years

Text

Hey you, what’s your dream?

Pairing: platonic!oc x ot7

Details: manager!oc, predebut/idolverse, partial BTS World!verse

Summary: The boys start filming vlogs.

Warnings: This is a fictional story based on real events. The characters presented here are not the same as their real life counterparts. [Masterlist]

Track 15: First log

Video Phone- Beyoncé ft. Lady Gaga, William Burke

“On your video phone (Make a cameo)

Tape me on your video phone (I can handle you)”

December 2012

“Okay, well, that takes care of the budget section of our meeting,” Aviva said, looking up from her papers. Jimin and Taehyung were playing some kind of hand game. Jin was watching something on his phone. Yoongi and Jungkook were napping on Jin’s shoulders. Namjoon was slumped over a bit and wearing sunglasses indoors, so she was pretty sure he was sleeping as well. Hoseok had been in the bathroom for over ten minutes now, but she was going to give him the benefit of the doubt and say he was really constipated or something. She let out a long breath. “Seriously, guys?”

“Hmmm?” Jin looked up at her, smiling innocently. “I’ll wash the dishes in the morning.” Aviva rubbed her temples.

“Yeah, you said that already. We already finished the cleaning schedule.”

“Oh.” He blinked at her. “Then… what were we talking about?” He looked at Taehyung and Jimin, who shrugged.

“The budget,” she said. “Which you might’ve known if you had actually been paying attention to me instead of playing on your phone.” Jin’s smile turned a little sheepish. “Ah, but you three get credit for staying awake at least.”

“I’m awake,” Yoongi said. Jin jolted.

“Aish.” He rubbed his chest. “Min Yoongi-yah, don’t scare me like that!”

“Boo,” Yoongi muttered, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. He looked at Aviva, his gaze suddenly so alert it made her blush. He smirked. “I’ll work on a grocery budget with hyung so you don’t have to.”

“Thanks, Yoongi-yah.” She let out a breath of relief. “That would be a big help. Now, let’s wake the others up, cause they actually really need to hear this next part.”

“Hmm.” He kicked Namjoon’s shoulder. “Joon, wake up.”

“Wh-what?” Namjoon sat up straight and looked around. “Why’s it so dark in here?”

The others snickered.

“Maybe these?” Tae suggested, stealing his sunglasses and putting them on his face instead. “Wow, yeah, these are dark. How do you see in these things?”

“I’ll wake Jungkookie up,” Jimin offered, springing up and shoving the youngest boy. “Kookie, time to wake up!” Jungkook just groaned.

“He’s so cute,” Jin cooed, cradling him under his arm.

“JK, if you don’t wake up right now, I’m going to take a picture of Jin-oppa cradling you like a baby and send it to Jen,” Aviva threatened.

Jungkook sat up abruptly, nearly knocking his head into Jin’s.

“I’m awake! Don’t do it!”

“Blackmail?” Yoongi raised an eyebrow at her.

“The tricky part is, she’d probably think it was really cute,” Aviva admitted.

“Yeah, but cute in what way?” Jungkook thought aloud. “Probably not the right way…”

“What’d I miss?” Hoseok asked, walking back into the room.

“Doesn’t matter,” Aviva said. “Everybody else missed it as well…” She paused as Yoongi caught her eye. “…With the exception of Yoongi-oppa who gets a gold star.” Yoongi smiled smugly.

“Kinky,” Hoseok said appreciatively. Aviva blinked at him.

“…How?”

“I don’t want to know,” Yoongi said, waving his hand as Hoseok opened his mouth again. Hoseok shrugged.

“Anyway,” Aviva said loudly. “Special announcement—Youtube finally gave us permission for an official channel, so I’d like for you all to start posting vlogs.” They blinked at her. “Video logs.”

“Logs…” Jungkook stared at her uncertainly.

“Just talk to the camera,” Aviva said. “About what you did today, or what your hopes for the future are.” Namjoon grimaced, shaking his head. “Joon, I know you like to write silly raps just for fun sometimes, maybe you could record one of those? I could edit them in sort of a meme format, and that should attract some viewership.” Understanding passed over Jungkook’s face. Aviva pointed at Jimin and Hoseok. “And you two can post routines that wouldn’t be spoiling any original content.”

“Ah, like, coming soon, Bangtan boys,” Hoseok said the last part in a surprisingly deep voice. Aviva blinked.

“Hobi, you ever considered voice acting?”

“Eh?”

She shook her head. “But I’m getting sidetracked… anyway, I’d like you each to get me a video by the end of the week.”

“The end of the week!” Jungkook repeated worriedly.

“It doesn’t have to be anything special,” she told him. “Just be sure to record it in the studio, there’s the best soundproofing in there.”

“Beep—Wrong,” Taehyung said. “It’s the Bangtan Room, not the studio!”

“I’ll call it the Bangtan Room if you actually pay attention during next week’s meeting,” Aviva offered. Taehyung rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“You drive a hard bargain, manager-noona.”

She sighed.

“But, who would want to know what we do all day?” Jimin wondered.

“Come to think of it, I’m not comfortable in front of the camera… I’m not sure I can do it,” Jungkook thought.

“I could be in the background out of the shot to keep you company,” Aviva offered. He frowned at her.

“Yeah, I think that would only make it worse.”

“Jungkook-ah, you’re going to be an idol, get used to it,” Yoongi said bluntly. Jungkook grimaced. “Unless you want to be treated like a baby forever?”

“No.” Jungkook’s brow furrowed.

“Don’t worry,” Jin said. “I’ll show you how to do it. Watch and learn!”

“…What, now?” Jungkook wondered, as no one moved.

“Ah… maybe tomorrow,” Jin thought.

“Okay.” Aviva gave him a thumb’s up. “Let’s meet at the studio around this time tomorrow and see how it’s going.” Jin smiled nervously. “Yoongi-oppa, text me some kind of treat you want and I’ll bring it for you.”

“Hmm, now I kind of want to know what Hobi thought a gold star meant,” Yoongi said thoughtfully. Hoseok opened his mouth again.

“Nope.” Aviva made an X with her arms.

‘Have you decided what you want?’ Aviva texted Yoongi first thing in the morning before she even got out of bed.

‘…I wanna eat meat.’

‘You always do! But remember the budget…’

‘right. ㅠ.ㅠ ok. Can I be exempt from logs for the next couple of weeks? I can do a product review of the new soundboard that I’m getting, but it hasn’t come yet.’

‘Ok. The viewers will miss out on your cute face, though,’ she texted before she thought too much about it. She froze. Shit.

‘Shut up >//<, u r the cute one.’

She laughed. ‘No, it definitely you. Just look at that emoji usage!’

‘u text like my grandma.’

‘u live like a grandpa.’

‘I see, so we match well together~’

She laughed again. It wouldn’t be too bad if not everyone got a log out this week. As long as two of three members posted something, that would be good. But was that really enough of a treat for Yoongi? She hadn’t done any baking in a while, and if she did something with ingredients she already had, it wouldn’t break the budget.

‘Do you like sweet things?’ She texted, and then got up to get dressed and start the day. Her phone buzzed. She finished getting dressed and looked at it.

‘d(^_^)b Duh. ♡.♡ Check the name.’

‘I thought it had something to do with basketball?’

‘…It does. I was just… guess I’ve spent too much time with hyung. ^^; ’

Aviva snorted.

That morning, Hoseok had somehow convinced Yoongi to join him at a nearby basketball court. They were shooting hoops, and Hoseok was frustrated, because Yoongi was winning, even though he kept taking breaks to look at his phone. He kept smiling at it, and at one point Hoseok even thought he blushed, although that might’ve been from the exercise.

“Who are you texting with?” He wanted to know.

“Your mom,” Yoongi said, without looking at him. Hoseok whipped at his ass with his sweat towel. Yoongi attempted to fight back, but Hoseok caught the towel, holding it as he smirked.

“Ah. I bet it’s Avi-yah.” He leaned over closer, trying to get a look at Yoongi’s phone screen. “What did she say that made you blush like that? Or was it a naughty photo?”

“That would be sexual harassment, technically, I think,” he said, twisting away from Hoseok, trying to keep his phone hidden. “Since she’s our manager.”

“Not if it’s totally consensual,” Hoseok thought, grabbing at the phone. Yoongi finally just shoved his phone in his bag.

“Let’s go back to the dorm and shower before she gets there,” he said.

“You don’t want her to see you all sweaty and messy?” Hoseok teased. Yoongi shot him a weird look.

“She’s seen me after dance practice plenty of times.”

“Ah, right.”

They walked out of the court, continuing down the street towards the dorm.

“Anyway, she doesn’t seem like the type,” Yoongi said, so quietly Hoseok almost didn’t hear him.

“To want to see you sweaty?” He wondered, confused. Yoongi rolled his eyes.

“To take pictures like that.”

Hoseok blinked. “Eh? You were still thinking about that?” Hoseok grinned. Yoongi was definitely blushing this time. “It’s always the quiet ones. Like, I bet you’re pretty kinky.”

“Depends who I’m with,” he said honestly.

“Ah.” Hoseok nodded. “You’re a switch.” Yoongi stared at him.

“…Can I consensually murder you?”

“What? No! How would that even…” Hoseok stopped suddenly as a familiar car pulled up alongside them.

The window rolled down and Aviva waved at them.

“Morning, boys. Need a lift?”

“Sure!” Hoseok said, going to open the passenger seat door.

“Ah, no, I have stuff on the seat,” she told him. “Sit in the back.”

“Okay, okay.” They got in the back. “What’s on the seat?” He wondered, trying to lean forward to see.

“Buckle your seatbelt, Hobi,” she ordered.

“I got it.” Yoongi buckled him in.

“…They’re cookies I made for Yoongi-oppa,” she said quietly. Yoongi blinked, and then a smile spread over his face.

“What? Hyung doesn’t deserve cookies,” Hoseok protested. “He threatened to murder me!”

“Yeah, cause he was saying dirty stuff about you again, Siljangnim,” Yoongi told her, without even hesitating. Hoseok gasped.

“Aish, you tattletale! Seriously?”

“While I appreciate you trying to defend my honor, or whatever, oppa, don’t murder him, that would be too much paperwork. Anyway, that stuff doesn’t bother me,” Aviva said. Yoongi and Hoseok looked at each other, and then her.

“Wait, really?” Yoongi said. “Why?”

“I grew up with Soonyoung, so I’ve been kind of… desensitized to that stuff?”

“Ah.” Both boys nodded. “That’s why your reactions are so amusing,” Hoseok figured. Aviva made a face.

“You know, both her and Taehyungie have said that before, I don’t get what I’m doing that’s so amusing.”

“Hmmm. Well, it’s similar to the satisfaction I feel when get Yoongi-yah or Tae Tae to react to things,” Hoseok told her. “They’ve got good poker faces, but they’re marshmallows on the inside.”

“Yeah,” Aviva agreed. “Cause he’s Suga.” Hoseok laughed as Yoongi groaned, a hint of a smile on his lips.

Later in the Bangtan Room, Jin was dressed oddly formal, in a suit.

“Seokjin-oppa,” Aviva started, but Hoseok interrupted her, pressing his finger to her lips.

“Shush. Just let enjoy the view for a moment.” He paused, tilting his head. “Eh, the moment has passed—why such a plain suit? That cut and color? So boring…”

“More importantly,” Aviva said. “Jin-oppa, you don’t have to do this in front of us, if it’s stressing you out too much.”

“Ha ha, of course not! I’m not stressed at all,” Jin said. “Why would you think that?”

“You’re standing as stiff as a board!” Aviva said.

“So…” Jin brushed his hair away from his face, ignoring her. “I’m going to do a three-line poem using my name.”

Aviva stared at him as he recited. “I don’t get it... did I lose something in translation?”

“No,” Hoseok told her. “It’s just not funny.”

“Yah!” Jin said, finally breaking from his robotic stance. “What do you mean?”

“It wasn’t fun at all,” Jungkook agreed, his nose wrinkling as he smiled slightly.

“It was hilarious,” Jimin disagreed. “But maybe not for the right reasons.”

“I’ve been thinking about the concept for these logs, but… do you think three-line poems are the right direction?” Namjoon wondered, tapping his chin.

“Not to mention the suit…” Yoongi added.

“Right?” Hoseok agreed.

“Is it too much?” Jin touched his lapel nervously. “I thought it would show I’m taking it seriously.”

“Aw, Jin-oppa, I really do appreciate the thought…” Aviva smiled at him gently. He smiled back at her. “But you should change.” He pouted.

“What about Tae?” Jin wondered as she started shepherding him out of the room. “He’s just been whispering into the mic!”

Aviva shrugged.

“Eh, some people like that kind of thing.”

That night, Aviva had just gotten home when her phone rang. It was Jin.

She answered. “Yes?”

“Ah, Aviva-yah? I was wondering, well, I think I need to get more used to being in front of a camera, so, I thought… maybe you could take some pictures of me?”

“…Like a photo shoot?”

“Did somebody say photo shoot?” Soonyoung wondered, popping up from the couch.

“Ah, it’s Jin-oppa,” Aviva told her.

“Oh? That oppa? Can you put him on speaker?”

“Um, oppa, do you mind if I put you on speaker?” Aviva asked him. “Soonyoung-ah wants to be included.”

“S-Soonyoung-ah?” He repeated. “Um… okay, sure.”

“Alright.” Aviva hit a button. “You’re on speaker. I think I know where she’s going with this, by the way. Soonie’s always liked dressing people up and taking pictures of them.”

“Well, yeah,” Soonyoung said. “It’s fun. But you never played with me!”

“I don’t like having my picture taken, and I don’t really like dressing up either, you know that,” Aviva said.

“Anyway, it would be fun to have such a handsome model,” Soonyoung thought.

“H-Handsome?” Jin said. “You’re too kind.” Aviva squinted at her phone, wondering at Jin’s sudden change in personality.

“You don’t mind people dressing you up, do you, Jin-oppa?” Soonyoung purred. “Since you’re gonna be an idol soon, hmmm?”

“Ah, no, I don’t mind,” Jin said, sounding like he wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

“Great!” Soonyoung said. “I’ve got some free time on my hands, so why don’t you meet me in the morning, that’s when the light will be best—ooh, ask Hobi to pick out a few outfits for you to bring, he’s good at that.”

“Okay, the ladies have arrived!” Soonyoung sang loudly, as they entered the dorm the next morning. She looked around. “Where is my model?”

“Ah, Soonyoung-noona,” Jimin smiled at her sleepily. He was still in his pajamas, sitting on the couch and playing a game on his phone, by the looks of it. “I heard there’s a photoshoot happening? Jin-hyung is in the kitchen, as usual.” Jimin pointed in the correct direction.

“Thanks, cutie.” Soonyoung leaned over and kissed his cheek before continuing on to the kitchen. Jimin’s face turned red.

“W-what?”

“…You haven’t really interacted with her much, have you?” Aviva realized.

“Ah, no, I’ve only met her a few times.”

Aviva nodded. “You get used to it,” she told him. Jimin looked doubtful. “Is Namjoon-ah in there too? He said he needed something.” Jimin nodded.

In the kitchen, Namjoon’s spoonful of cereal was frozen halfway to his mouth.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He said, eyes wide as he looked at Soonyoung.

“Joonie, I don’t remember saying you could address me so informally,” Soonyoung said, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Soonyoung-ssi,” Namjoon amended, putting his spoon down like he’d lost his appetite. “Could you please tell me... what the hell are you doing here?”

“Didn’t you hear me yesterday?” Hoseok wondered. “Jin-hyung’s having a photo shoot.” Namjoon’s eyebrows went up.

“With her?” He pointed at Soonyoung. Hoseok nodded. Namjoon patted the frozen stiff Jin on the shoulder. “Good luck, hyung. You’re gonna need it.”

Soon Soonyoung had left with Jin, somehow conscripting Jimin to help her, with Hoseok volunteering to go along.

“Do you think Jin-oppa has a crush on Soonie?” Aviva wondered as she sat with Namjoon, Jungkook, and Yoongi in the studio room. Jungkook and Yoongi were looking through a free-use video library for good meme clips to add Namjoon’s more serious than expected rap encouraging voting.

“What?” Namjoon stared at Aviva.

“She is hot,” Yoongi said, blunt as ever.

“Well…” Namjoon looked hesitantly at Aviva.

“She’s hot. She knows it, I know it, we all know it,” Aviva said, unconcerned.

“I guess,” Namjoon agreed reluctantly. “But I didn’t think Jin-hyung was the type to go for just looks.” He looked worriedly at Aviva again.

“It’s fine. I love her, including her personality, but I know she scares a lot of people,” Aviva said. Jungkook grimaced.

“She is a little scary.”

“Some people are into that,” Yoongi pointed out.

Jungkook’s eyes widened. “Jin-hyung is like that? Really?”

“We don’t know that,” Namjoon said, waving his hand. “And I never said I was scared of her.” Everyone looked at him in disbelief. “Okay, maybe I am a little scared of her…” Yoongi patted him on the shoulder.

“It takes a brave man to admit his fear,” he said. Namjoon smiled at him. “Which means Kookie is braver than you.” Namjoon frowned. Jungkook laughed. “Anyway, can we stop talking about this and get back to your video? I’m bored.”

As far as any of them could tell, Jin had survived the photo shoot. He was very quiet when he got back, but definitely more relaxed.

“These are actually great,” Namjoon admitted reluctantly, clicking through the photos of Jin on the studio desktop.

“Right?” Tae agreed. “The lighting and composition are gorgeous.”

“And the way she directs your eye to all these little details you’d normally miss is so cool,” Jungkook commented.

“…Did you both take photography in school?” Namjoon wondered.

“A bit!” Tae said.

“No.” Jungkook shook his head. “Just a personal interest.”

“Ah, you guys are constantly impressing me,” Namjoon said, patting both their heads at the same time. Tae smiled. Jungkook blushed.

“Okay,” Aviva said, walking into the room. “I got Jin-oppa to eat something and then sent him to bed.”

“Eat what?” Tae wondered.

“I picked fried chicken up as a treat,” Avi told them. “It’s in my office.”

“What?” Jungkook’s eyes widened. “Why didn’t you tell us earlier? It’s all gonna be gone.” He and Taehyung sped out of the room, though Namjoon stayed in his seat, frowning. Aviva sat next to him in Jungkook’s abandoned chair.

“Are you sure he’s alright?” Namjoon asked her.

Aviva nodded. “It’s just the Soonyoung after affect. I have seen it in many of her… um, objects of affections, over the years, even suffered it myself a couple of times.”

“What do you mean?”

“Hmm. She pays so much attention to you, it gets overwhelming,” Aviva explained. “It feels like she’s breaking you down and building you back up again stronger. She probably would’ve been a good manager… but she’s always been more interested in the technical side of things. She picked a broken old PS3 up off the street the other day and fixed it.” Namjoon made an impressed noise. “Don’t tell the boys, I don’t want them showing up at my apartment to play it at weird hours.”

“Got it,” he said.

That night, Aviva stayed in the studio to watch the vlogs on the desktop. Guilt stabbed at her chest when she saw Tae’s video in the queue. She should’ve told him what was said in that marketing meeting as soon as she saw him, but she knew it would hurt him. She was hoping to fight it somehow. Maybe if he’d made a really cute video it would convince the marketing team to retract their decision?

She clicked play, watching Tae excitedly brag about all the business cards various talent agencies had given him. There were some big names in there. Aviva leaned back in the chair, trying to untangle her feelings—the ones that came to the top were pride and possessiveness. She was proud that others saw how brightly Tae could shine, but she wanted to be the one to show everyone that light. But wasn’t that selfish? If she really wanted him to reach his dreams, shouldn’t she encourage him to strive forward, even if that meant alongside someone else...?

She sat back up, watching the video as Tae happily told the camera that he was already taken, and started making the cards into paper cranes. She smiled slightly.

“Manager-noona!”

She jumped as she felt someone’s hands on her shoulders.

“Kim Taehyung-ssi, are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“Nope.” He was grinning. “But the guys don’t fall for that anymore, so you’re my best target!” She glared at him. He poked her cheek and cooed. “Even your glare is adorable!” She sighed, running her hand through her hair. She stared up at him, wondering how to break the news. He bit his lip, his playful expression turning into something she couldn’t read. “Ah, manager, why are you looking at me like that? That’s no fair!”

“Did you get taller?” She wondered absentmindedly, thinking she was having to crane her neck more than usual to look at him.

“Did I?” He wondered. “Stand up.” He took her hands in his, pulling her to her feet. Then he measured the distance from his head to hers and nodded thoughtfully. “The height gap has changed. It appears you’re correct, I am taller.” He smiled. “You’re so tiny, manager!”

“I’m really not...” Aviva automatically hugged her arms over her stomach.

“Well, maybe not all parts of you are small...” Tae glanced briefly at her chest and then blushed, moving his gaze to the ceiling. “But they are parts of you, and together they make up someone beautiful.” He booped her on the nose. “And cute.”

“I don’t agree, but thank you for the compliment,” she said stiffly.

Taehyung frowned. “I don’t do empty compliments.”

“I know. I have told you I admire your sincerity, Taehyungie.”

“Hmmm. You know, Jiminie doesn’t think he’s cute sometimes too, which is ridiculous, because he always is!” He tilted his head. “And I know I’m good looking, but sometimes people call me beautiful, like a few of those agents giving me business cards...” He pointed to himself on the screen. “And I’m not so sure how I feel about that.”

“Do you not want to be called beautiful?” Aviva wondered.

“I don’t know. Do you think I am?”

“Yes,” she said honestly.

He smiled. “Well, that makes me feel good, even if I’m not sure that’s exactly how I see myself... because you don’t give empty compliments either. Isn’t it amazing, noona, that no one sees things the same? You see me differently than I see myself when I look in the mirror. It’s like a painting, or a poem—we’re all art up to each other’s interpretation. I want to know more about how you see me, and I want to tell you more about how I see you.”

Aviva stared at him for a moment and then shook her head. “Tae, you are special, I’m sorry I can’t put it into such pretty, cheesy words as you do. There’s something else I have to tell you, and I don’t know where to start…”

“Would this help?” He held a crane out to her, which was made out of one of the biggest entertainment companies in the country. She swallowed. “I want to make a set of one hundred, but I want you to have the first one.”

“Are you planning on getting a hundred more offers?” Aviva wondered.

“Eh, maybe, if people keep calling me pretty,” he joked. He pointed at the video. “Will you post my video first?”

“I... I can’t,” she told him apologetically.

His brow furrowed. “Why not?”

She took a deep breath. “There was a marketing meeting earlier and they said, well, they want you to be a secret member.”

“Secret member?” He repeated.

“They don’t want to announce you until later. They know you’ll do well with the intended demographic and they’re hoping you’ll have even more of an impact if you come as a surprise,” she explained.

“I see...” He said slowly.

“So I’m not allowed to post any images of you online, but... I can fight it, if you want me to, Tae.”

He blinked at her. “Why would you do that?”

“Because you’re just as important a member of this group as any of the others, and I don’t want you to feel left out,” she said.

He smiled, a little sadly. “Thank you for offering, but I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble with your sunbaenims.” He wrapped his arms around her. “I’ll make it through.”

Instead of Tae’s video, Aviva launched the official Bangtan Youtube account with Namjoon’s ‘get out there and vote!’ rap as the first post.

The next day she launched their twitter page after talking to them about what kind of message they wanted to open with:

'What’s up! This is BTS. We’re finally officially opening our BTS Twitter~ *Clap Clap Clap* We will upload more weird and fun things that one could have only imagined about before our debut…’

Next was Soundcloud, which she opened with a solo song adaptations by Rap Monster and Suga.

To wrap up the year, all of the boys recorded a Christmas diss track together (except for Hoseok who was visiting family for the holidays). They called out themselves, Big Hit, Bang-PD, even Aviva.

“When do I ever sleep?” She wondered, glancing over the lyrics as they gathered in the studio.

“Well, we told you it was a diss track,” Namjoon said slowly.

“Besides, blame Jungkookie,” Jimin said. “He wrote that part.” Jungkook and Aviva squinted at each other.

“You need to sleep more,” he told her pointedly.

“That’s not what you make it sound like!” She argued. “You make it sound like I’m at home sleeping while you work to death!”

“Aish, just post the video already before we all grow old and die,” Yoongi groaned.

Although only Jin and Rap Monster were featured in the Youtube video Aviva and Yoongi did the editing for, Tae was still excited to hear his voice in the background. Aviva returned his warm hug and tried not to think too much about the glow of pride for the first posts wearing off and leaving them only with the strain of hard work.

#bts #fanfiction #kim taehyung #min yoongi #jung hoseok #bts x oc #bts world #idolverse #manager!oc #bts predebut #ot7

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kayluh1915 · 3 years

Text

Beautiful People

Paring(s): Pedro Pascal/Female Reader

Words: 5,378

Warnings: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Disorder, Medication Discussions, Insecurities, and Panic Attacks.

You and Pedro have been secretly dating for a few months now after a chance meeting. You both agreed that it was time to reveal your relationship to the public and chose to do so by accompanying him at The Oscars, but your anxiety does a great job of making you think that you don't deserve it.

DISCLAIMER!

This story is based on the song Beautiful People by Ed Sheeran & Khalid, but this IS NOT a songfic. It just gave me this vibe of Pedro walking down the red carpet with someone who doesn't quite feel like they belong and he comforts her by saying he doesn't really belong either and proceeds to list why they're better off because of it. I dunno, It just sounded sweet.

As always, comments are welcomed and encouraged.

You can also follow me on Twitter if you'd like. My life is boring, but I might be able to make you laugh if I’m lucky.

Enjoy!

(PS: Pepe is a real person. He was my Spanish teacher my first semester of college... and yes, he really went to Cincinnati every Friday to gamble)

Read on AO3

My Masterlist

The frigid February air was like icicles on your skin, sending a full-blown shiver down your spine as you hurried out of the Science building and towards the dining hall. It was nearly noon and you’ve had only had a banana and a bottle of water this morning, so lunch sounded pretty great right about now… maybe a cup of hot cocoa as well.

The dining hall was about a three-minute walk from the Science building, more than enough time for the cold to seep through the layers of your coat and deep into your bones. The possibility of a cup of cocoa turned into an inevitability, you running for the hot beverage machine as soon as your student ID was swiped.

You sat at your usual spot, hanging your backpack on the back of the chair before taking a greedy sip of the hot drink. The warmth was a godsend, the sugary beverage warming your icy hands with a pleasant hum tumbling from your lips.

“You make noises like that in bed?” Someone asked, snapping you out of your warming daze. It was your roommate and closest friend, Lauren. You snorted at her remark, almost spitting out a sip of your drink.

“I thought you had Spanish class at noon?”

“Nah. It’s Friday, remember?”

“Oh yeah, gambling day.” Like you, Lauren was a music student. It was how you had met nearly four years ago. Like most music students, you both used the extra humanities credits you had earned in high school to bail you out of the required foreign language credit until university. You were doing fairly well so far, but it was because you had a decent teacher. She wasn’t the best, but she was alright.

Lauren’s was just… something else.

On the first day of class, he told his students to call him “Pepe” because he didn’t do the “formal shit.” He also said that there would never be a class on Friday’s because he goes up to Cincinnati to gamble with his buddies. Why he didn’t just put down that his classes were only on Monday and Wednesday were beyond you.

“Yeah. Whatever, though right?” Lauren continued. “I’m not complaining about one less day of class.” You smirked mischievously.

“No, but your Spanish is…” Lauren scoffed, only causing you to laugh harder into your cup.

“Bitch, you shut the fuck up. You can’t speak the damn language either.” You shrugged.

“You’re not wrong, but at least I’m learning more than you are with Pepe.” Lauren groaned.

“Fuck you. Come on, let’s grab some grub.” You stood up and grabbed your backpack, throwing away your empty drink cup to grab something to eat. You settled on your usual favorite and sat back down with Lauren who had somehow already made it halfway through her plate.

“God, slow down.” You teased as you hung your backpack back on the chair.

“I didn’t eat breakfast this morning. Cut a bitch a break.” You shook your head, digging into your own plate, but at a much slower pace. You both sat in comfortable silence, enjoying your meals as the indecent chatter of the surrounding students and meme music playing from the jukebox continued on.

“So,” Lauren said, breaking the silence as she sat down her drink. “What are you doing this weekend?” You froze at her question but played it off the best you could. Any hint of hesitation would send her into a frenzy of questions that you weren’t prepared to answer.

“I’m going in to see Mom. Maybe stop by my Mamaw’s too.” Lauren’s shoulders slumped.

“Damn, that’s too bad. Devon invited us over to his Oscar watch party tomorrow night. Figured you might want to come along since you’re into that sort of thing.”

You swallowed hard at the mention of The Oscars. Just play it cool… don’t. fucking. panic.

“Normally I would, but it’s been a while since I’ve seen Mom. You know how she gets when I don’t come to visit for a while.” Lauren nodded her head in understanding, knowing full well of how your Mom was after living with you for two years.

Little did she know that you had just seen your mother last weekend.

“I understand, boo. I’ll let him know you can’t make it. When are you leaving?”

“As soon as I’m done here. I packed my stuff this morning so I could just go. Trying to beat the traffic as much as possible.” She nodded in understanding.

“Well, I hope you have a good time with your Mom. Say hi to her for me, will you?” You internally sighed a breath in relief. How your big mouth managed to keep him a secret all this time let alone this was beyond you, but you managed to pull it off somehow.

“Yeah, sure.”

After you finished eating, you hugged Lauren goodbye and went back to your dorm long enough to drop off the books you didn’t need and pick up your suitcase. You went through your mental checklist one last time and locked your door behind you as you left.

You unlocked your car and threw your stuff into the backseat, making your way towards the interstate as soon as you left the college.

Home was about a two or three-hour drive down south, but where you were really going was about a 40-minute drive north. You put on some music as you cruise down the interstate, your nervousness slowly increasing the closer you got to your destination.

Your hands shook on the steering wheel, you bounced your left knee furiously, and you were biting your lip… pretty hard. You thought about reaching into your purse for the “take as needed” anxiety medication your psychiatrist prescribed you but decided to hold off on it a little longer. Maybe it’d taper off when you got to the airport.

It didn’t.

You had flown before, but that had been years ago when your micro home town had some kind of festival thing and gave free airplane rides. This commercial airline stuff was something entirely new to you which was already nerve wreaking, but the unexpected bustle of such a smaller airport made it worse.

Weeks before when you first booked the flight to Los Angles, you did as much research as possible to make sure that you knew the “norms” and guidelines of all the airports you were going to since there were no direct flights available. You were as prepared as anyone could be, but you were still extremely nervous and all the foot traffic only made it worse.

You went through security without any qualms and took a seat to wait for your flight to begin boarding. You pulled out your phone and texted your Mom and Lauren before someone walked up to you in your peripheral.

“Excuse, miss?” You looked up from your phone to come face to face with an older gentleman. He looked to be in his early 50’s with salt and peppered hair and a kind smile. He asked you your name and you confirmed with a nod.

“Sorry to disturb you, but your private flight is prepared to depart whenever you’re ready, Miss.”

...Excuse you, what?

“P-Private flight? But I-... I paid for an American Airlines flight.” The man nodded.

“Yes, but Mr. Pascal has sent a private jet to retrieve you. He was fairly insistent to make sure that you boarded.” You sighed heavily. You told him that a two-stop economy flight that you paid for was more than fine, but the thought of you doing anything like a normal person seemed to bother him for some reason.

“Okay. I-I guess I’m ready to go then.” The man smiled.

“Of course, Miss. May I take your bags for you?” You hesitated.

You had never been waited on like this before and you weren’t quite sure how to feel or respond to it. You were perfectly capable of carrying your own stuff and this guy probably wasn’t getting paid enough to carry some lucky college student’s stuff, but was it rude to say no even if you did so in a polite manner? So, you just agreed and handed him over your suitcase and backpack.

You followed him outside and over to a small commercial jet, a woman who looked to be around her mid 30’s standing right by the entrance of the aircraft.

“Welcome aboard, Miss. I’m Kendall Bishop and I’m your captain for today. If you’ll go ahead and take a seat and buckle your seat belt, we’ll depart shortly. I do ask, however, that you remain seated and keep your seat belt fastened until Mr. Clements informs you that it is safe to move about the cabin. Do you have any questions for me before we begin our descent?”

You smiled politely at her and shook your head.

Upon entering the cabin, you were at a complete loss for words. It was easily the fanciest thing you’d ever seen. Leather seats, stocked alcohol shelves, an endless assortment of snacks, a TV, even a fucking bed of all things. The man, Mr. Clements you assumed, gestured towards the seat closest to you. You sat down and buckled your seat belt like you were told to do.

Mr. Clements then reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope, gesturing for you to take it.

“Mr. Pascal requested I hand this to you as soon as you board.” You took the envelope out of his hands, looking down at it with a curious gaze. On the back of it had your name scribbled onto it in familiar handwriting. You’d know it anywhere after reading so many letters from him.

“Please enjoy your flight and let us know if there’s anything we can do for you.” You thanked him with another nod, turning the envelope around and tearing it open. The plane prepared to take off as you read.

Mi Abeja,

I know you wanted and paid for a normal flight, but the academy offered to fly you to me privately last second. I was going to ask you if you were okay with it, but you were in class and your phone was off and I had to let them know something before my table read this morning. You work and study so hard and deserve to be pampered so I told them yes. They reimbursed what you paid for your ticket and I’ll give that to you once you get here.

I hope the unexpected change didn’t spike your anxiety too much. I know you’re nervous about this whole thing to begin with and I probably just made it worse. I’m sorry if I did.

I’ll be there to pick you up as soon as you land at LAX.

Love you,

Pedro. <3 <3

Your heart soared at his words, leaning back in your seat and looking out of the nearby window just in time to watch the plane lift up from the runway.

________________________

Four hours later, Mr. Clements informed you that you would be landing shortly. Your heart leaped up in your chest as you put your phone back into your backpack and fastened your seat belt.

It had been a few weeks since you’d last seen him and you were nearly vibrating with excitement by the time the wheels touched down on the runway. Mr. Clements offered to take your things again. You still weren’t sure if it was rude to turn him down or not and you didn’t want to ask and risk looking like a moron, so you agreed and handed over your backpack.

The captain opened up the door and exchanged pleasantries with you as you stepped off the plane, but you barely heard her over the pounding of your own heart. As soon as you looked up from the ramp, you saw him. He was there just like he promised he’d be, standing by his car and wearing his favorite pair of sunglasses all while smiling at you with that blinding smile.

Your sneakers barely touched the tarmac before you were sprinting for him. He held out his arms for you and made a small sound when you collided with him, wrapping your arms around his neck and laying your head on his chest. One of his hands caressed the back of your head, holding you to him tightly as the other one held on to your waist.

“I’ve missed you so much, Abeja.” He muttered against the crown of your head. You let go of him long enough to reach up and kiss him, tangling your hand into his dark curls. “Did you have a good flight?” He asked after you pulled away.

“I did. I was a little nervous at first, but I’m okay now.” Pedro gave you a saddened look.

“I’m sorry. I know it was unexpected and didn’t mean to hike you up, I just figured yo-” You put your hand over his mouth.

“It wasn’t your fault, Pedro. I’m just… not used to this… any of it.” He placed a gentle kiss to your fingers, taking your wrist into his hand and gently taking it off of his mouth.

“Please tell me you at least ate something.“ You nodded.

“I ate with Lauren before I left for the airport. She actually invited me to an Oscar watch party this guy named Devon is hosting. I played it cool just like we practiced, but it took everything in me not to freak out.” Pedro giggled, pressing a kiss to your nose.

“Isn’t she in for a surprise?” You barely smiled, nodding gently. You’ve been trying not to think about it, but the idea of you being on display to the entire world made your stomach churn and your knees weak. You were just a first-generation college student from the middle of nowhere, yet here you are in the arms of Pedro Pascal about to walk down the runway of the most prestigious award show in less than 24 hours.

“... Yeah.” You eventually answered. Pedro noticed the change in your demeanor and frowned, placing a kiss on the wrist he was still holding and caressing it gently with his thumb.

“We don’t have to go through with this if you don’t want to, you know? We can always go with plan B.” You shook your head vigorously.

“No, no, no! I-I want people to know… I just… all so new.” Pedro smiled at you sympathetically, brushing a stray piece of hair away from your face.

“Just promise you’ll let me know if it ever becomes too much for you. I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.” You look up into his mocha gaze, the butterflies in your stomach making you forget about your self-doubt if only for a few seconds.

“I promise.”

________________________

That evening you were curled up with Pedro in the hotel bed, empty take-out containers discarded onto the nearby nightstand as you watched The Shining together. He was fully engrossed in the movie, his fingers idly playing with your hair. You had tried to focus on the movie. You really did, but you’ve seen the damn thing a million times. Laughing at memes on Reddit sounded more appealing so that’s what you were doing.

“You know, I really miss you when you’re not with me.” Pedro said after a while. You looked up from your phone and up at his face.

“I miss you too. Music school sucks and I can’t cuddle Lauren… well, I can but it would be awkward.” Pedro laughed, caressing your cheek with his knuckle.

“Tomorrow, our stylists will be here around noon. I know you’re going to be nervous all day and will probably avoid eating, so I’m going to make sure you get up with me and eat a proper breakfast.” You groaned quietly.

“You won’t let me sleep in? Even on a Saturday?” You fake-pouted. Pedro tapped your nose gently with his finger.

“Not when tomorrow is such an important day. I don’t want you nervous on an empty stomach.” You both went back to what you were doing for a minute.

“You did bring your medication, didn’t you?” You hesitated before nodding.

“Yes.”

“Good. You’ll have something in case it gets too intense. Getting you to take it will be another story, though.” You didn’t say anything, favoring instead to raise up from your reclined position to swing your leg over his waist to straddle him. His hands instantly went to your hips, gently caressing them with his large hands.

“You’re so beautiful, Abeja.” He said after a while of looking you over and running his hands over your body. You smiled at him and leaned down to give him a kiss. It was pretty standard as far as kisses go, but when you pulled away you were both looking at one another with a fiery intent and slowly went back in for another. This one searing and far more passionate.

Pedro groaned deep in his throat as your tongues collide, the kiss deepening far beyond your original intent.

You weren’t complaining.

________________________

Pedro’s alarm going off scared the living hell out of you. You had been awake since 4 am, trying your best to go back to sleep, but it just never happened. When you finally gave up around 6:30, you grabbed your backpack and sat at the desk the hotel provided and did your weekend homework. You hadn’t realized that you were that engrossed in it until his alarm buzzed you out of it.

He groaned quietly and reached over to silence it, rolling back over and reaching out to the other side of the bed looking for you. When he noticed that you were gone, he raised up from the sheets and looked around the room. His hair was an absolute nightmare, sticking up in various directions as he stretched out his back and yawned loudly.

“Thought you wanted to sleep in.” He teased after he found you at the desk.

“You said you were going to wake me up early. Figured I might get some work done.” Concern then donned on his brow.

“Honey, how long have you been up?”

“Not long,” you lie. “I wanted to get some work done so I just got up at my usual time.” Pedro got out of bed and padded over to you, rubbing your shoulders and placing a kiss atop your head.

“You work too hard. You should take a break while you can.” You lolled your head back, Pedro’s hands rubbing your shoulders feeling absolutely amazing.

“I’ll do whatever you say as long as you keep doing that.” He laughed, kissing your cheek and heading to the bathroom.

________________________

You didn’t want to question the professional, you really didn’t. But after the third layer of concealer, you just had to.

“That’s a lot of concealer.” The makeup artist laughed.

“I know, I’m sorry. Use some cream for those bags next time and I promise you won’t need as much.”

You didn’t speak after that, allowing the hair and makeup artist to finish you up while they gossiped back and forth with each other. They made other side comments like that to you here and there. They weren’t necessarily rude so you couldn’t really say anything, but they did little for your already rock-bottom self-esteem.

The artist put a dark shade of lipstick on your lips, making a triumphant noise when she finished.

“Didn’t have the best canvas, but you look fabulous sweetheart! Smile with your mouth closed and you’ll be a knockout!” The makeup artist and hairstylist gathered up their things, leaving you sitting there in your robe staring at the floor and hoping they leave fast.

When they finally left, you got up from the bed and walked over to the full-bodied mirror. You showed your teeth and started looking over them. You never thought they looked too bad. Sure, they were crooked and had some spacing, but they were okay. Braces were expensive and playing a brass instrument with braces is a death sentence for lips.

What if you were wrong about them looking okay all this time? Maybe you should have taken out that loan and a semester off to fix your teeth…

Your stylist came in shortly after. He was quieter than the others had been and much nicer which you were thankful for as you changed into the white dress they had picked for you. When you came out, the stylist smiled and hooped.

“You look gorgeous!” You finished off your look with matching jewelry and a clutch purse, sitting down on the bed to put on your heels.

“It took me forever to find a pair of acceptable wedges for you, sweetheart. I don’t know why you didn’t just tough it out for one night, but hey. I get it. Country girls don’t like heels and that’s okay! It worked out.”

Again, not necessarily rude… but damn.

________________________

You were waiting in the lobby for Pedro to come out, bouncing your leg nervously and trying to remember not to touch your eyes or bite your lip because of the makeup. When you saw him step off the elevator, your breath caught in your throat. His hair was slicked back and his facial hair neatly trimmed, the black velvet suit hugging his broad shoulders perfectly.

“Wow…” He muttered, looking you up and down. “You look absolutely stunning, Abeja.”

“You don’t look so bad yourself.” You replied, playing with his bow tie.

“Hey, hey, no. Don’t touch it. I don’t know how to tie it back if it comes loose.” You laughed and shook your head.

“Fine… I’ll unwrap my present later.” Pedro’s own breath caught as you winked up at him. He cleared his throat and composed himself, offering you his arm.

“Ready?” You swallowed and nodded, taking his arm for him to escort you.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.”

________________________

You were in line for the red carpet, the flashing cameras of the paparazzi already blinding and you were still pretty far back. Your stomach churned, a wave of nausea rising up but nothing happening. Pedro took your shaking hand into his and squeezed it gently.

“You okay?” He asked, noticing how tense you were and only grew worse the closer you got.

“... fine.”

“Plan B’s still an option if you need it, Abeja. You have your medicine you can take too.” You shook your head, looking back at him to flash him a smile.

“I’m good.” You could tell that he didn’t buy your bullshit. Not even for a moment. He didn’t say anything, though, opting only to lift your hand and press a kiss to the back of it.

“I’ll be right there beside you the entire time, honey. If at any point you feel uncomfortable or need to leave, you let me know.” You nodded at him, accepting a kiss from him before looking back out the window of the limo.

Your turn came up way sooner than you would have liked, the greeter opening up the limo door as soon as the car stopped and allowing Pedro to step out into the public eye. The photographers went nuts, the flashing lights and screams from fans intimidating you more than you thought they would.

What the fuck were you thinking? You’re just some tired ass music student. You don’t belong here with all these people.

You almost chickened out and stayed in the car but when Pedro turned towards you and offered his hand you took it anyway even though your mind was screaming for you not to. Just the gentle touch of his calloused hand on yours grounded you enough to carefully step out of the limo, making sure that nothing happens to your dress.

You could hear the sounds of the crowd die down for a moment as they all started muttering to themselves. Your hand was shaking in Pedro’s larger one, the photographers gasping as soon as they saw your face. They started taking pictures faster than they ever had. The bombardment of flashing lights blinded you for a moment, but you adjusted to them quickly.

Pedro let go of your hand and put it on your back, gently leading you where you’re supposed to go.

“Okay?” He asked as he wrapped his arm around you and brought you close. You nodded. You weren’t comfortable in the slightest, but it wasn’t the worst thing ever. While both of you posed for pictures, people from the group of photographers said a lot of things to both of you. Some were kind, others were funny and got a good laugh out of you. There were also a few who were very rude, but they had been pushed aside by the others.

Overall, it wasn’t nearly as bad as you were expecting… but you were glad it was over.

________________________

You were standing aside checking your phone while Pedro did an interview with some of the press. He had offered you to be with him, but the red carpet had been more than enough fame for you. Your phone was on “do not disturb” mode, but you could still see all the notifications coming in. Your Mom, Dad, Lauren, and other friends bombarding you with messages basically asking what the fuck. You didn’t have the time to reply, so you didn’t open any of them.

Once Pedro was done with his interviews, he escorted you into the main hall where he introduced you to some of his friends and colleagues along the way. You considered it an honor to meet the people most only ever dreamed of, but you knew you didn’t deserve it. Someone else should be here, not you.

When you found your seats, Pedro offered you his hand. You took it and allowed him to seat you before he took his next to you and wrapped his arm around the back of the seat. The show started shortly after.

________________________

“And the Oscar goes to…” You held onto Pedro’s hand tightly as they opened up the envelope, your shaking hands encased in his. He had told you when he had been nominated that he didn’t expect to win it, but you could tell he had some hope as he tensely watched them read the card.

“Pedro Pascal.” You jumped up with Pedro, hugging him tightly as the audience broke out in cheers.

“You deserve it!” You told him, breaking away to give him a quick kiss. You watched him run up stage and accept the golden statue, walking up to the microphone with a few chuckles as he looked over the award.

“Wow, this is uhhh… this is incredible. Truly amazing.” He started. “I’d like to thank the Academy for this honor, my Mom and Dad who worked hard to raise me right and who supported me. My brother and two sisters for being there for me, mi Abeja for loving me unconditionally, and just… so many others. There are so many people in my life who have helped me get to this milestone and if I were to thank all of you, we’d be here all night. I love you all so very much and this truly… a dream come true. Thank you.

The crowd stands up and cheers loudly. You wanted to, but you were too busy trying to make sure your makeup doesn’t run down your face with a tissue from your clutch. Eventually, you give up trying and decide to go to the bathroom just to make sure everything still looks fine.

Your makeup looked just as flawless as it had before. You wish you would have known that the artist had used waterproof makeup so you could’ve properly celebrated Pedro’s achievement, but oh well. While you were there, you decided to use the bathroom. You didn’t have to go that bad, but might as well take care of it while you’re here.

While you were relieving yourself, you heard two other women come in.

“-ld for her. He needs to settle down with someone like us and around his age. Not some college student.” You froze solid when they realized that they were talking about you.

“I know. She isn’t even that pretty. Did you see her teeth? Do they not have braces where she comes from?”

“For real. Her body’s not that great either. Looks like she comes straight from the shack or something.”

“Wonder if that’s where he found her?” They both giggle.

“Either way, she doesn’t belong here.” You knew they were right, but you just couldn’t bare to listen anymore, pulling your underwear back up and fixing your dress after you flush the toilet.

You then run out of the bathroom, not even looking to see who the women were. It didn’t matter, though. They were right. You should have never came here and you couldn’t stay any longer.

You walked back to your seat and gently tugged on Pedro’s sleeve.

“C-Can we go… Please?” You ask, your voice shaking just as much as your hands. Pedro got up instantly when he saw the look on your face, grabbing his trophy, coat and your clutch. He didn’t ask questions as he placed his hand to the small of your back and began to escort you out of the theater.

By the time you got back into the limo you felt like you couldn’t breathe. The voices around you sounding like water as your vision became black around the edges. Oh God, is this what feels lie to die? You couldn’t die. Not now! You had so much to do, so much t-

Something extremely cold suddenly touched your face, the blackness around your vision fading slightly as you looked up to whoever had put something so damn cold on you.

You were instantly met with the warm eyes of your boyfriend, concern laced on his brow as he gently dabbed a cold washcloth over your face. You could see his mouth moving, but you couldn’t make out what he was saying over the pounding of your heart, but it eventually calmed down enough to where you could begin to hear him.

“There we go, bee… that’s it sweetheart. Nice and easy.” Your breathing slowly calmed down, Pedro cradling you in his arms as your panic attack faded.

“I should have never come here…” You muttered. “I don’t belong here. All these fancy dresses, the flashing cameras, nice cars… I don’t deserve any of this.” Pedro placed a kiss to your forehead.

“Don’t say things like that, Abeja. You deserve this just as much as anyone. And as far as not belonging, trust me when I say I don’t either. And, frankly, I’m fine with that. All of these designer clothes, the mindless gossip, the broken homes, being surrounded by so many but still alone? That’s not really a life worth living. The world of Beautiful People is a lonely life, one that I would rather not live.”

You wasn’t sure what to say, so you just didn’t say anything, curling up as close as you could to him.

He made you take a dose of your anxiety medication when you got back to the hotel, taking it with a swig of water before laying down and curling up close to him. You laid your head on his shoulder, the sounds of his breathing and the gentle feeling of his hand caressing your own shoulder lulling you.

Right before you doze off, you heard him say:

“No matter what any of them has said, you’re perfect the way you are and deserve everything.”

________________________

You wake up the next morning still wrapped up in his arms. You lay there for a while just talking and enjoying one another’s company before he finally got up to use the bathroom.

You reach for your phone on the nightstand, turning off “do not disturb” mode for the first time since yesterday afternoon.

Your phone was overloaded. Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat, everywhere was flooded. You didn’t even know where to begin.

Eventually, you just give up trying to put a dent into anything and returned Lauren’s list of missed calls. She answered on the second ring.

“You tell me every little detail, you sneaky bitch. And I mean everything!”

#kayla's ramblings #pedro pascal #reader insert #my fanfiction #beautiful people

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sunmoonandeddie · 5 years

Text

thanks for the memories

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 3,002

summary: Bucky’s lived a long life.

warnings: Some h*ckin’ words. Angst with a happy ending.

a/n: So like. This is kinda short. At least it feels like it is. It’s also an idea from that fake fic ask meme I did. But I cried writing this. Let me know what you think!

Bucky took a deep breath as he came to a stop. The trek became harder and harder to make every week, but nothing short of death could stop him from coming. A bouquet of red roses hung from his hand. The same flowers he brought every time.

“Hi, angel,” he said, his voice cracking. It was the first time he’d spoken in a few days.

After all, his children and his friends were dead. He didn’t have the energy to make friends with the new members of the Avengers or anyone else. The most human interaction he got nowadays was when his grandkids called once a week to catch up.

But there was no one he wanted to talk to except for you.

It frustrated him, that he didn’t have the strength to make it more than once a week anymore. He used to come every day. Sometimes more. It was his favorite place in the world.

It had concerned Sam when he was still alive. But he didn’t know you. He didn’t understand like Steve had before he’d died.

And now here he was, finally catching up with all of his loved ones. His skin had wrinkled, his hearing had partially gone. His bones ached with every step he took.

The head stone in front of him didn’t give him an answer, but it didn’t need to. He could feel your presence even just standing here. It was the only place the voices in his head went quiet and he could just be.

Knowing that it would be a pain to get up later, he eased himself down onto the soft grass. His joints creaked painfully as he moved to rest against the head stone. Running his fingers across the weathered stone, he read your name out loud. “You know, I’m still mad that they didn’t give you my last name,” he said with a faint chuckle. “But I guess the government doesn’t recognize elopements in Austria.” The early winter wind brought a chill with it that went straight to his bones. Seasons nowadays just weren’t like they used to be. “Doesn’t matter. You’re still Mrs. Barnes to me.”

If he focused enough, he could picture you sitting next to him. You’d have that pretty green dress that you’d worn for him when all the soldiers and nurses got to go out dancing. Your hair had been perfectly curled, left unpinned for once. It was nice to see you out of your uniform.

“I wish you were here,” he said, tears springing to his eyes. “I feel so alone. Stevie’s gone, Sam’s gone. Nat’s gone.” He picked at one of the roses in the bouquet, tearing off the petals absentmindedly. “Even the kids are gone.”

His beautiful children. He’d never dated another woman, never got married. But after he’d retired as an active member of the Avengers and took on a position as a trainer, he’d finally gotten to settle down. The questions about his mental stability had been answered, and he’d been declared fit to raise a child.

It was then that he adopted Brienne, Alexei, Poppy, Mateo, and Eliza. His little war orphans. There’d been more that he’d fostered, giving them a home until they found their forever family.

It had been years since they’d died, leaving him with five more permanent holes in his heart.

Their children, his grandchildren, had all scattered around the globe, chasing their dreams and settling down. They all called at least once a week, visiting several times a year, but still.

“Sometimes I wish I’d never gotten that stupid serum,” he said as he looked out over the head stones that surrounded him.

He’d had to fight to have you buried in Brooklyn. You were originally buried in your hometown, but your family had agreed to have you moved to the city after he’d explained the situation to them. You were buried with the rest of the Barnes. His mother and father were buried in the plot to your left, and his sister, Rebecca, was buried in the plot to your right.

And when he died, he’d be buried right next to you as your husband.

“I keep asking myself why I survived the serum and you didn’t,” he murmured, his clouded blue eyes drifting up to the dreary September sky. You always did love the rain. You told him it brought new beginnings. It washed away the wrongs from before. “I think the only reason I’ve lived this long is for our kids. So I could find them and take care of them. Give them a home just like we always wanted to.”

“Bucky?”

“Yeah, angel?” He was sitting in a dirty cell with twenty other men, but he was only paying attention to you. You were being held in the cage right next to his, and the bars were far enough apart that he could slip his hand through to hold your hand. His thumb brushed over the little band on your left hand ring finger. It was covered in dirt and grime from being stuck in this prison for who knows how long now, the diamond unable to shine.

You hated it. You hated that your ring was dirty. And sure, it wasn’t much. Bucky had never had a lot of money, and he’d spent what he had on this little ring at a jewelry store in Vienna when they’d passed through a few months before.

It was there in Vienna that you two had found a little chapel and officially became a married couple, despite your families not being there and the priest not understanding English. Dum Dum ended up translating for them, and they’d left the church as Mr. and Mrs. Barnes.

“There’s gonna be a lot of kids without families after this,” you whispered, a melancholy in your voice that he only heard when you two were alone. You didn’t like the men seeing you upset, said it wasn’t fitting of a nurse. I’m supposed to be the one making all y’all feel better, Bucky, you’d said months ago when he’d asked why. The other men in the cell were asleep, and you’d finally been able to let down your mask.

He hummed, leaning his head against the cold bars, trying to get as close to you as possible. The sweet smell of your shampoo was long gone. “Yeah.”

“Can we… I think…” You swallowed as you tried to find the right words. “When you bring me home to Brooklyn, can we adopt a bunch of them?”

“Yeah?” He said, sitting up a little straighter as a smile tugged at his lips. The first in days. “You wanna have a bunch of little babies runnin’ around?”

And your smile was so sweet and so real that his heart just melted. “Wanna have a family with you, Buck.” You reached up to run your fingers through his greasy hair. “We’ll have a little house with a big yard and a porch, so we can watch all of ‘em run around. And I’ll finally get to meet Steve, and we’ll have him over for dinner every week.”

His heart swelled as the picture formed in his mind. He could see it so clearly. It was so close but so far away.

You two just had to survive this damn war.

“I’ll give you all the little babies you want,” he said with a warm smile. “We’ll singlehandedly raise all of Europe’s war orphans.”

The two of you froze as you heard the door opening. There were several sets of footsteps and the jingling of keys, and he knew what was about to happen next.

He could only hope that they were there for him this time, and not you.

“No… No, no, no,” you whimpered as you clutched onto his hand tighter than before. You were still so weak from when they’d taken you for the experiments the day before, and you knew it was only a matter of time before they came for Bucky again, but you just wanted to scream and kick and fight until they left him alone.

He’d already gone through the injections twice before you even went once. You’d seen how he’d changed. He’d come back bigger, more muscular. He healed quicker from the little scratches that came from sleeping on a concrete floor. He didn’t require as much food and water as before.

You, however… You just seemed to get weaker and weaker with each injection. No matter how much of his food that he gave you, it didn’t seem to help.

The group of men appeared before you, unlocking the cell to reach in and grab him. He didn’t bother to fight them, knowing that they would only threaten you to get him to comply.

But you clung to his hand, screaming at the men as you tried to hang on. The other soldiers were waking to your protests, growing more alert as they realized what was happening.

“LET HIM GO!” You shouted at them, your throat growing hoarse. Tears streamed down your cheeks, revealing your skin underneath the dirt that covered you. “STOP IT!”

If Bucky wasn’t so terrified of what was at the end of the hall, he would wax poetic about how you were still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen even while sobbing your eyes out.

The cry you let out when his hand was torn from yours was so guttural and raw it made several of the men flinch back. You were standing on shaky legs, your knees threatening to buckle the longer that you stood. Your arm was reaching through the spaces between the bars despite the fact that he was way out of reach and almost out of sight. “BUCKY!”

He kept trying to look back at you, wanting to savor the image of you so that he could keep it in his mind until this round of injections was over. He was happy to see Morita moving to comfort you, helping you back down to the ground to keep you from hurting yourself.

Maybe he’d think of your wedding day instead, and the way you sounded when you told him you loved him.

Yeah. That sounded better than thinking of you crying over him. He’d think of that.

Bucky wasn’t sure how long he’d sat out in the cemetery, drifting in and out of his memories.

He’d lived a long life. A good one, despite the fact that there were some pretty rough chunks.

The only thing that he regretted was that he wasn’t able to do more to help you. He hadn’t been able to stop those HYDRA dicks from injecting you with the serum. It had been too much for your body to handle, a stronger version of what they’d given him. They’d thought that you’d need more as a woman, according to Howard Stark.

Which was just complete bullshit. You were the strongest person he’d ever met.

He hadn’t been allowed to go home with your body. He hadn’t gotten to meet anyone from your family until after he’d broken out of HYDRA’s control back in 2014.

And now, over a century later, he was ready to rest.

Truthfully, he’d been ready for rest for a long time, but the serum had kept him from dying.

But he could feel the end coming closer. It was his time.

He didn’t even have the energy to get up and go back to his empty house.

A bit of sun broke through the clouds, warming his face. It was almost like a sign. You were there. You were ready to receive him with open arms.

He leaned his head back against the headstone, shivering as his bald spot rested against the cool marble. “Whenever you want me, angel. I’m ready.”

The next day, Jamie sighed into the phone as she climbed out of her car, heading into the cemetery. “No, he wasn’t at home. I told him I was gonna be coming today. Maybe he forgot.”

As much as she hated to admit it, despite the super soldier serum that had kept him alive so long, her grandfather was growing older. His strength had been the first to go, followed by his hearing. It wouldn’t be too much of a shock if he’d started to lose his memory, too.

God, she hoped not. As much as her grandfather loved her and her siblings and cousins, she knew that his memories of you were what kept him going. His loving wife, torn from him too soon, that wanted to create your own family with him.

And even though none of them had ever gotten to meet you, Jamie’s mom and aunts and uncles all said that you were their mother.

“I’m at the cemetery now,” she said as she headed for the Barnes’s family plots. Her cousin, named after you, was supposed to be coming to visit with her tomorrow. “I don’t—” She broke off as she spotted him, breaking into a run. “Grandpa?!”

Jamie could hear her cousin’s voice shouting through the phone, demanding to know what was going on, but she let it fall to the ground as she sank to her knees.

James Buchanan Barnes was dead at two hundred and fourteen years old.

He was resting peacefully against your head stone, the red roses he always brought hanging limply from his hand.

He looked… at peace. The tension that had always resided in his shoulders had dissipated.

He was at rest.

“Buck?”

Bucky hummed, his eyes still closed as he began to stir.

A familiar giggle filled the air. “Bucky!”

A giggle he hadn’t heard in almost two centuries.

His limbs felt heavy in the best way as he shifted, the mattress beneath him cool. The sheets twisted around him, keeping him warm without stifling him.

“My love…” A soft touch along his cheek, a caress that he’d dreamt about every night. Dainty fingers that used to be calloused from the hard work of war. “It’s time to wake up.”

Bucky’s eyes slowly fluttered open, the soft light of the room somehow not making him recoil in shock.

“There he is.”

His eyes popped open as he realized that you were leaning over him. The prettiest smile he’d ever seen was painted on your lips. Lips he’d spent hours kissing. “Angel? You’re… You’re…”

You simply nodded, shushing him as you urged him to relax. “I’m here. I’m here. It’s okay.”

“You look just as gorgeous as you did back in forty-three,” he croaked. The smile he was rewarded with warmed him down to his toes, calming his soul in a way he hadn’t felt since the war. He pushed himself up suddenly, blue eyes wide. “There was never anyone else. Only you.”

“I know, I know,” you reassured him, pushing his hair back. “I wouldn’t have been upset with you if there was. All I ever wanted was for you to be happy.”

“Couldn’t ever look at another gal that way,” he said, leaning his forehead against yours. “Not when I’d already found the love of my life. No one could ever compare to you.”

Your laugh was teary as you pressed your lips to his tentatively, almost like you were scared to. “I’ve waited so long for you. I’ve missed you so much.”

Bucky swallowed around the lump in his throat as his fingers threaded through your hair, pulling you in for another searing kiss. Neither of you noticed that you were crying until you tasted the salty tears on your lips. “I’ve missed you, too.” He sniffled. “All I ever wanted to do was make you proud.”

“Silly boy,” you whispered, nose nudging against his. “That’s all you’ve ever done. You gave me children even when I couldn’t be there to help raise them.”

His brows furrowed as he looked around the room, realizing that it was the master bedroom of his house in Brooklyn. It was decorated differently, but definitely still his house. “Is this…”

Nodding, you slipped out of the bed, holding your hand out for him to take. “I’ve been waiting for you here since forty-three.”

He took your hand without hesitation, allowing you to pull him out of the bed and out the bedroom door. A fondness creeped into his smile as he saw the photos lining the halls. Pictures of you and your family, of your children, of him. Never before seen photos of you with the kids.

“Come on, my love,” you said, already two steps down the staircase. Your eyes were bright as you stared up at him. “We’ve got people waiting for us.”

The fourth stair from the bottom still creaked, and it was then that he realized the body he was in. His hands were young again. His muscles didn’t strain with every step. His bones didn’t creak.

He was young again.

“Yes, you have your hair back,” you teased, reading his mind like you always did. Your voice was clear as a bell, the best thing he’d heard in decades.

His heart caught in his throat as you pulled him towards the back door, the sound of voices growing louder. “Are…”

Opening up the back door in the kitchen, you revealed all of his friends and family that he’d lost over the years. Alexei and Eliza were playing a pickup game of football with Sam, Peter, and the Howling Commandos. Steve was manning the grill, chatting with his father and Mateo about who knows what. Natasha was sharing a plate of fresh strawberries with Poppy. Peggy was standing off to the side with his mother, Rebecca, and Brienne like it was just a random Sunday.

There were so many others that he thought he’d lost over the years. Loved ones he never thought he’d see again.

His eyes pricked with fresh tears as your hand slipped into his, squeezing. A reassurance that you were there by his side.

And you’d never leave it again.

#bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction

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vennilavee · 4 years

Text

The Countdown

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: you and bucky have a small fight before a mission during the holidays and you’re both irked at each other.

Warnings: cursing, alcohol

Word Count: 2791

A/N: inspired by s1e14 of the oc titled ‘the countdown’. i only watched the first season, but i always thought the new year’s kiss moment was beautiful. i listened to dice by finley quaye a lot while writing this (also found this song on the same episode of the oc)

_______________________________________________________________________

“You were supposed to be home for the holidays! And for the new year!” You say, irritation stewing in your belly. You cross your arms and shift your weight to your right side.

“I was home for Christmas! Doesn’t that count for something?” Bucky retorts.

“Neither of us even celebrate Christmas like that…”

“So? I was still here!”

“We were supposed to ring in the new decade together!”

“So what would you have me do? Tell the world to pause just because you want a New Year’s kiss?”

“Well, excuse me for wanting to start the new year and the new decade with my boyfriend! I guess I’m asking for too much from you, huh?”

“I guess you are!”

You roll your eyes so far to the back of your head that you are certain you can see the whites of your skull. You look away from him, so he can’t see the hurt in your chest. Why is he so nonchalant about it? Doesn’t it mean as much to him as it does to you?

Evidently not.

“Whatever. Have fun. Be safe I guess. Don’t get too injured. I won’t help you with anything more than bruised knuckles.”

I love you, you stupid idiot.

Bucky lets out a chuckle despite himself. He’s already dressed in his tactical suit, buckles and velcro done and all. You knew he had to go, but damn, would it kill him to look a little sad about leaving you for over a week and missing New Year's Eve and New Year's Day with you?

You can hear Sam calling for him out in the kitchen of your apartment.

“Well, I guess you’ve gotta go,” You shrug, “Have fun on your trip. You guys are going to Bali, right?”

“Don’t be like that,” Bucky murmurs, a faint cloud forming in his normally clear eyes.

“Enjoy your beers and your Mai-Tais, Samuel,” You call out, narrowing your eyes at Bucky.

“Leave me outta it, baby girl,” Sam replies.

You hand Bucky his black duffel, trying to thrust it at him and failing because of how heavy it was. He quirks his lips in amusement but falters when you send him a searing glare.

“I’ll see ya when I see ya,” Bucky says. You’re about ready to bite his head off. Why can’t he see it? Why can’t he feel it the way you do?

“Yeah. See ya when I see ya,” You echo, trying to swallow the lump in your throat.

***

“‘See ya when I see ya?’ That was the saddest string of words in the English language I’ve ever heard,” Sam says, thumping Bucky on the back of his head.

“Oh really? Thanks for your opinion,” Bucky snarks, “She knew I had to go!”

“So? She’s allowed to not be happy about it.”

Bucky silences him with a glare and Sam rolls his eyes.

“Y’all are both some idiots.”

***

Bucky hadn’t even kissed you goodbye or told you he was going to miss you. The thought that he wouldn’t miss you leaves you motionless and in tears.

Does he still love you? Does he even like you? How could he look at you like that, like you were annoying him? As if he didn’t love you more than life itself, as if he didn’t spend every night falling asleep to your soft, rhythmic breaths? As if his crevices didn’t match yours, as if his stormy blue didn’t seek your brown warmth?

Had he even looked at you like that? As if you were an annoyance to quell?

He hadn’t kissed you. He hadn’t said goodbye to you.

You can’t help but wonder- is he thinking about you?

***

You haven’t sent Bucky a single text, emoji, meme or photo. It’s been four days since Bucky said ‘he’d see ya when he sees ya’, and the words (or lack thereof) rattle in his mind mercilessly.

They could replace Hydra’s trigger words, he thinks darkly.

But you hadn’t even kissed him goodbye or told him you would miss him. He can’t get your sad, brown eyes out of his mind or the way you had folded in on yourself with your arms twisted together like vines after you had handed him your duffle bag.

He’s half expecting you to dump his stuff out in front of your apartment, indicating that you’re through with him and the darkness and the missions and the waiting and just… all of it.

You deserve better, he tells Sam grimly as they are staking out a Hydra base in the middle of Mount Batur in Bali. Bucky can’t help but think that Hydra is incredibly stupid for building a new base in such a heavy tourist location. But maybe they needed a change in scenery.

Sam had sent Bucky a glare, as if to say ‘is this really the best time?’

Bucky sighs, “Why was that so dramatic? ‘I’ll see you when I see you? Seriously? God, I want to electrocute myself every time I remember that I said that.”

“Tell Zemo that. He’ll be more than happy to fulfill that wish of yours,” Sam snorts.

“I miss her,” Bucky whines, “I’m so stupid, Sam.”

“So tell her,” Sam says simply with a small smile, “Including that last part. Multiple times.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t even kiss her or say goodbye. I’m the worst. But I wouldn’t blame her. If she wanted to go, I mean. I feel like I’m too much and not enough at the same time,” Bucky confesses softly, anxiety filling his voice.

“Sounds like you both need to sit down and talk. But before that, just call her-”

Bucky’s already calling you, eyes automatically searching for your name and the star emoji next to it. International fees be damned.

“I didn’t mean right now!”

***

You’re absent-mindedly scrolling on your phone, the blue light from the screen keeping your mind stimulated despite the fatigue behind your eyes. It’s 3:12 AM, you’re sleeping on Bucky’s side of the bed and you miss him. You wonder what he’s doing- is he safe? Is Sam safe? Is he protected? Does he know that you love him?

You can’t believe you let him go without saying goodbye, without a kiss, without telling him you loved him. You just said ‘you’d see him when you see him’. Well, in your defense, he said it first.

Hovering over his name, you contemplate calling him. Nah. He’s probably busy.

But he always told you he’d never be too busy for you. And that was true- you had called him a few times in the middle of anxiety attacks, or during a bout of insomnia- just to name a few instances. Despite the fact that he had been in the crux of a mission, fighting people off, dodging bullets left and right… He had tucked his cell phone in the crook of his neck and ear to calm you down in his low, comforting voice. You had been able to hear the rhythmic beats of his footsteps, with the occasional yell as he told you about his day, told you to follow his breaths, and listed the things he liked and loved about you. His voice was your favorite melody, a melody that fills you up with warmth and familiarity.

You sigh and stare at the ceiling before feeling the buzz of a phone call in the palm of your hand.

Bucky’s name with a yellow heart emoji, along with a photo of both of you pops up on your phone and you accept the call quickly, butterflies strumming in your belly.

“Hi,” You say breathlessly.

“Hi,” Bucky says, sounding equally as breathless. You can hear Sam yelling at him for being distracted, you can hear commotion, glass breaking and doors slamming. But it’s all background noise.

“Are you okay?” You ask, “It’s like… 8 AM over there. Early morning Hydra base break in?”

“Yeah. I haven’t even had a coffee yet, can you believe it?”

“Those Hydra guys won’t know what hit ‘em,” You chuckle.

There’s a beat of silence between both of you.

“Hey… I’m sorry I left things so weird before I left. I’ll see ya when I see ya? Who the fuck says that,” Bucky mutters and smiles when you laugh, “I miss you, I’m sorry I won’t be there to start the new year with you, sweetheart. I’m such an idiot. And I’m sorry I made you feel so small.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye to you,” You whisper, “I miss you, I always do.”

“I know, honey. I always do, too,” Bucky murmurs, closely evading a punch to the stomach and a kick to the shins, “Save a kiss for me, will ya?”

Bucky groans when he gets punched in the nose and you wince at the cracking sound.

“Ouch, that didn’t sound so good,” You remark, “Come back to me in one piece, will ya?”

“I will,” Bucky promises, “I gotta bring you out here someday. You’d love it.”

“I think I would, too. Bali looks beautiful. We’d both get nice and tan on those pretty beaches.”

“You’re already tan,” Bucky snorts, “You’d get that nice, bronzed glow.”

“And don’t you forget it,” You yawn widely.

“Get some rest, honey,” Bucky murmurs. You hear a muffled explosion in the background and somehow you still yawn.

“Be careful out there, sweetheart,” You reply mildly and then after a second, “I’ll see ya when I see ya.”

“Stop making fun of me,” Bucky whines and you laugh.

“Goodnight, honey.”

***

Specks of gold sit on the walls of your friend’s apartment, glittering at every turn of your head. It’s simple, paired with a large balloon of a bottle of Moet champagne, with smaller balloons coming out of the opening of the bottle. Strings of pale yellow fairy lights line the ceilings of the apartment, casting a slight glow on everyone in attendance.

Your friends have outdone themselves this year. They had asked for your recommendations on decorations, which had been your duty. So truly, you had outdone yourself this year. There is a station for champagne bottles chilling in buckets of ice and champagne flutes. And another station of liquor, mixers and solo cups to drink out of, as well as finger foods and snacks. It had been a potluck style party and everyone brought different entrees to have for dinner.

You had objected to the red solo cups- “We can afford to drink out of something nicer than red solo cups!”

And the subsequent retort- “And who’s going to wash all the glasses, huh?”

So the red solo cups stayed and you tried your best to not think about how out of place they looked with all of the gold and glitter. Everyone was wearing a mix of black, silver, gold or burgundy. And you? You were wearing a silk, olive green camisole, black pants and a black blazer with a glittery finish to it. Golden teardrops hang on your earlobes, swishing with every turn of your head and a necklace that Bucky had bought you sits along on the column of your throat. You had left your chunky heels at the door- of course you wanted to show off your New Year’s manicure and pedicure to your friends.

Several rounds of games go by- Cards Against Humanity, What do you Meme, and of course, beer pong and flip cup and then more food and drink. It’s about thirty minutes to midnight and you haven’t heard from Bucky in a few hours. You had sent him photos of yourself getting ready, selfies with your friends and of the decorations. All of the texts say that they’ve been delivered. But maybe he’s busy.

You’re starting to feel the sting a little bit when couples start to get cozy with one another, some cuddling subtly and some cuddling not so subtly. You check your phone once more, wondering where in the world Bucky could be. At least you have the solace that he’s safe- he had told you that everything was okay, they had gotten the information they needed. Him and Sam were safe.

Sticking your phone in the back pocket of your pants and fixing yourself a mixed drink, you rally everyone together for toasts to end the decade off. With Bucky burning brightly in the back of your mind.

***

You call Bucky at 11:56 PM. You’re not sure where he is, if he’ll even have cell reception, but you do it anyway. He doesn’t answer and you go straight to voicemail. It’s 11:58 PM by the time you decide to leave him a voicemail.

“Hi,” You begin, “Um… It’s probably already next year where you are, right? Happy new year, honey. To many more new years, new adventures and new… everything. I’ll text you in the morning, miss you, love you.”

With your heart feeling a little lighter, you join your friends in the living room to watch the countdown live. You don’t notice that one of your friends has disappeared and another one has a sly look on her face when she glances over to you.

***

Bucky is sweating bullets. He’s been running around the city for the last hour, from one edge to another. Sam and Bucky had finished up their mission late on the day before New Year’s Eve and Bucky thought it would be cute to surprise you before midnight on New Year’s day.

But of course, their quinjet had had a few technical difficulties, they had run into some trouble, and it had taken them behind schedule a few hours.

So now, Bucky is currently sprinting to Williamsburg from the subway station because the subway car going to Brooklyn is currently out of service for the next forty-five minutes.

Just his luck. This is the most stressed Bucky has probably ever been.

***

It’s 11:56 PM when Bucky feels his phone vibrating. He quickly checks who it is, silencing it when he sees that it’s you calling. Bucky is currently running up twelve flights of stairs to get to your friend’s apartment building. The elevator was taking far too long, and Bucky was far too impatient to wait.

To the twelfth floor he goes.

Bucky hears his phone buzzing again, but just for a second. It’s a voicemail and he’s certain it’s from you. His heart sputters for a moment at the thought of you missing him. As it always does.

Just two more floors to go. Sam would mock him for how long it’s taking him to get to the twelfth floor.

With wide eyes and his chest heaving, he sprints down the corridor to apartment number 12-303. He has to make it, he has to get to you before…

Ten!

Apartment 12-295 is on his right.

Nine!

Apartment 12-299…

Eight!

Apartment 12-301…

Much to his relief, the door to apartment 12-303 is unlocked. He had texted your friends hours ago, asking them to please leave the door unlocked. At least that had gone according to plan.

Your friends peek over to see him at the doorway and each give him a smug smile. Your back is facing away from him as you’re watching the countdown on the television screen. You turn your head a fraction, looking over your shoulder to call out for everyone to come watch the countdown, and then you see him.

You gasp loudly, hands over your mouth in complete surprise. Your heart is singing for him, begging you to to join him. You’re tethered to him, feet moving of their own accord. Time stops for a moment, the faint sounds of the seconds counting down were nothing but static in your ears. All you can see is Bucky. Bucky who had done who knows what to make this special for you.

Bucky’s right in front of you with a small smile. He pulls you to him, not wasting a second before pressing his lips to yours just as the raucous cheers of happy new year go off around them. It’s just Bucky and you standing there with his hands cupping your cheeks and your hands light on his wrists. Glitter and confetti gently falls on his shoulders and your dark hair, giving you a crown of sparkles. Your soul is aflame, and you’re unable to keep yourself from smiling into the kiss.

He pulls away with bitten lips and rests his forehead against yours. He pulls a speck of confetti from your nose and kisses you once more.

“Happy new year’s, honey,” Bucky murmurs.

“Happy new year’s, baby,” You say, kissing his chin, “Thank you for doin’ this for me.”

“I told ya,” Bucky grins, lopsided and your favorite, “Told ya I’d see ya when I see ya.”

***

tags: @coal000 @hootyhoobuckaroo @buckyforbreakfast @lesqui @amethyst-dreams-and-candy-canes @sergeantbarnescaptainrogers @whothehellisbucky

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky fluff

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