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the-rogue-mockingjay · 1 year

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Writer's end-of-year roundup, 2022! 🎉🎆

Despite the myriad hardships of the year for me - losing my old beagle, fighting doctors, a completely stupid amount of grief/loss, migraines and disability oh my! - it's actually been an amazingly productive and inspired year? I'm very proud! I completed the second draft of my first-ever longfic, which needs another round of editing or two before it's ready to be published, and I've discovered I LOVE editing. More than I love writing, actually????? Lots of people talk about the Dreaded Editing but for me, it was vastly easier than writing the first draft was LOL. I also did what I thought I would never do, which is create another Shepard, Morrigan Vesta, and I actually wrote mostly about her during NaNoWriMo this year. I'm finally getting the hang of how to give characters unique voices (or portray a canon character's voice accurately, which is something I used to be extremely hung up on). I can honestly say I've made a lot of progress both as a person and as a writer this year, and I'm finally starting to find my joy in writing again. Very exciting!

Taking a page out of @pikapeppa 's book in how to format this year's data- I love seeing your charts every year!! My own chart ended up being quite a bit messier, but that's probably because of how I tweaked it to fit my fics. I apologize deeply if the image quality gets butchered, I am not wise in the ways of battling Tumblr's nonsense

(HEY GUESS WHO FORGOT A FIC......the one I forgot is Marevera's Dream, which is a Wayfarer post-Ep 1 pre-Ep 2 WIP, and it clocks in at 1,174 words, making my actual total 60,486!!!!!)

*I forgot to note that In this darkness, on my own is a followup to A New and Dark Horizon.

60K........DUDE!!! I haven't written that much since junior high/I got my depression diagnosis in like 2016, so this is. Big!

New things I tried: For starters, I paced myself during NaNo instead of forcing myself to write every day like I did during NaNo 2020. And WOW was that a night-and-day difference! In 2020, I wrote about 20k and burned myself out so bad I couldn't write for another 6-8 months. This year, I wrote about 30k, and only sat down to write about half the days, successfully dodging burnout. I think that's a valuable lesson for me in what works for me, how to balance my desire to write with what I'm actually capable of that day, and how to work with my disability without letting it limit me.

I also wrote in first person for the first time in maaaaaany years, and while it's not as comfy as third person, it wasn't bad, and it was a good way to explore the different strengths of POVs.

And since my laptop had a fatal encounter with a cup of coffee last spring (RIP little buddy), I've gotten very comfy writing on my phone, which I had previously only done for Across the Sea and Part 1 & Part 3 of broken body built anew because I was bored/inspired during a long car ride LOL.

Fic I spent the most time on: Going Over Jordan, easy. I originally wrote it during NaNo 2020, then re-wrote it at some point during 2021 (time is a weird soup so I don't remember). And then I rewrote it AGAIN this year, edited the crap out of it, printed it, and will edit it again sometime in 2023. It's a fic that exists purely because I am at times a spiteful little goblin, and I had Opinions about the MEA main mission Hunting the Archon, i.e. I didn't agree with how Bioware wrote the companions' responses to Ryder's temporary death, and my Ryder is also an anxious neurodivergent wreck like myself, so I wanted to write how that mission would have actually gone with Brynja as Pathfinder. I wanted to highlight the relationships Brynja has with her friends (particularly Jaal), and I also just wanted her take on the mission in general, because it's not the same as what's in-game. I mean....a lot of people die gruesome deaths in that mission and you see the aftermath, you see the gutted and maimed corpses. There's a lot of horror inherent to what Bioware wrote for that mission, but they glossed over it big time. I wanted to fix that.

I'd like to have someone beta read it, but Andromeda is a niche market as it were, and I've never had anyone beta my work before, so that's honestly the biggest reason it's not published yet. It would benefit greatly from beta reading I think, but uh. I don't know how to make that happen. I'm gonna publish the dang thing in 2023 or 2024 at the latest, though, even if it kills me DGKLJDHLG.

Fic I spent the least time on: I can't say for certain, but it's probably the microfics. Those took only a couple hours. Aside from those, not counting WIPs, it'd most likely be Across the Sea, which I wrote on my phone while sitting on the kitchen floor.

Favorite thing I wrote: ALMOST ALL OF THEM. In all seriousness though, there are a few that have a special place in my heart, and the most important one is Across the Sea. I'd been wanting to explore how Marian processes/copes with Thane's death pretty much since the day I created her, but I never got around to putting any of it on paper until the time came for me to say goodbye to my dog, a 17yo beagle named Maggie we adopted in 2019, last February.

It was an absolutely hellish series of events just in those few days alone: I had a sleep study done which gave me the worst migraine of my life, I threw up in a random parking lot, went home and tried to sleep the migraine off, and was woken up a few hours later to my mom sitting on my bed and saying, quietly, "Maggie's dying". My migraine quit mattering at that point. I sat with her on the couch for hours, held her paw, petted her softly. My parents took turns sitting with her in the living room overnight.

Ultimately, she was just suffering so much for so long we had to take her to the vet. It was a weekend, so it was going to be hours before they opened. Maggie got up and stumbled to the kitchen, and she laid down in front of the door to the garage, and I just...sat with her. There was nothing I could do to help or save her, so I kept her company in her last hours. In the midst of moving and the uncertainty surrounding my health, my new disabilities, traumatizing doctor appointment after traumatizing doctor appointment, I was having to say goodbye to the greatest light and joy of my life a mere 6 months after we lost the dog we've had since I was 3 years old (a shih tzu named Reggie, who wore the pride of his breed like a royal mantle and never stopped carrying himself like a king, even when he didn't recognize us anymore).

Maybe it's silly to compare the loss of a dog to the loss of a lover, but...things just clicked in my brain. I wrote Across the Sea for and about Thane and Marian, yes, but it was for me and my beagle, too, in equal measure. Thane was terminally ill but even so he died quite unexpectedly (THANKS KAI LENG), and the same was true of Maggie. So it was....maybe it's a silly thought, but it was a vent piece. I understood my grief through the lens of Marian's, since hers was so much easier to tackle than my own in its huge overwhelming weight. I'm a very private person with big emotions, and my grief was - and is - a very personal thing. Something I needed to keep close to my chest, hidden, at the time. To write Marian's grief as I waited with Maggie for the inevitable, it was like I had a companion, a friend sitting with me in that grief. I understood Marian much better then.

So perhaps mechanically speaking, Across the Sea isn't my best piece (I'm honestly not certain where it ranks quality-wise), but it is....the writing equivalent of those pendants that carry your loved one's ashes, for me. And it's done quite well on AO3. Knowing that people have enjoyed this piece that is so precious to me and comes from a place of such deep sorrow...there is no greater honor I could ask for, I think. It's a fitting tribute to a character and franchise I love, that's gotten me through many hard times, and to the beagle that made the horrors of life worth living.

(Aside from that, my other favorites are broken body built anew (first trilogy piece), Going Over Jordan (first longfic), In this darkness on my own, Farewell to Arms, Des profondeurs dans la nuit, and the ME3 early game Morrilenko duology Never Enough/In the shadow of your heart.)

Favorite thing I read: Imma be real with you chief, I have.....not read much. Not as far as books go, anyway. But I've sure read some amazing fic and interactive fiction games!!

I reread a bunch of stuff, partly to examine the technical strengths of my fave writers and stories, and partly because hey, they're my favorite stories!! Off the top of my head, the pieces I reread were: Flotsam, Ain't Sentimental, and Loose Ends by @asaara-writes; Sorrow and Resistance by @/myrini; and while I didn't get the chance to reread/finish these like I'd hoped, A Lesson in Drowning by @theherocomplex, Where the Winds of Fortune Take Me and Lovers in a Dangerous Time by pikapeppa are bookmarked both on AO3 and in my brain for the same reasons as the shorter pieces

everything @coldshrugs has written in the past year or two. Both as a writer and as a reader, shorter form fiction is more accessible to my migraine-addled brain (I love reading long stuff but it's often migraine trigger T^T) and Azia's a MASTER of short fiction???? So much punch packed into such concise words!! Incredible clarity and emotional depth!!!! There are many writers on this site that I admire and respect greatly, and Azia is one of them

My favorite IF this year is 100% Wayfarer (@/idrellegames). I haven't been able to focus on it as much as I'd have liked, but the COMPLEXITY the DEPTH. I'm in awe of it and Idrelle. The scope of the project is so massive and the intrigue and depth of the story and characters is incredible to see, Idrelle is a one-person-army of a writer. It'd be easy to think that Wayfarer is made by a team, but nope! It's all the genius and dedication of Idrelle. Having followed Wayfarer from the beginning, the only words I can describe it is awe-inspiring

My writing goals are going in a separate post because this is about 19 times longer than I meant it to be DHFLJKDSLKJHG. If you've read this far, thank you so much!!!!!!! I know it probably got a little more personal and a little bit sadder than you were expecting, so thanks for sticking with me- and I don't blame you an ounce if you skim-read this or skipped some sections. It's a lot of words!

Happy New Year, everyone!! You guys make Tumblr great, and without the people I've met through this site, I would've missed out on not only tons of awesome media, but all y'all super cool folks and your blorbos!!! Keep on creating, everybody. Your stories, your art, your headcanons and metas and dumb jokes, you bring light into my life, and the lives of others. I want you to know that your works bring comfort and happiness to the life of one lost and drifting young woman...and I want to thank you for it, sincerely. I know for a fact I'm not the only person whose life is made better by your presence. The fact that we haven't met in-person doesn't lessen your impact by an ounce.

#rogue writes #writing roundup #tw animal death #yeah a lot of my titles are just random lyrics but hey i'm a very musical person lol

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alldayangst · 3 years

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gold rush (Tom Holland)

All of my fics are LGBT and PoC friendly. Inspired by gold rush by Taylor Swift. Everybody wants Tom, but you don’t like a gold rush. WC: 2.7K words.

“Y/N, I just wanted to say again, thank you for coming in today and doing this for us.” Tom’s dad, Dominic, said as he displaced papers across desks, earl grey swaying like an angry lake in his mug. Approaching footsteps hinted that the star of the show was soon to be hold. In other words, Tom was running behind.

The door creaked and light from the corridor crept through like Sun peeping through curtains of the Night. It refusing to shut after Tom budged and pushed was maybe divine punishment for him being so late, and maybe provided the bit of laughter you needed after rolling out of bed at 6am for this, for him. When the door eventually did close, Tom turned around and saw you in all your glory; much taller than he remembered, more assured than he’d imagined, and more gorgeous than drowned out and half forgotten memories of you could ever fabricate.

You and Tom ran in the same social circles, but hadn’t seen each other since Tom’s career imploded when you were both nineteen. As much as Tom felt he owed his heart and soul to the UK, he maintained an almost permanent fixture on the States. It started to feel like his trips back to England were in fact actual holiday. At one point, you were in love with Tom, but meeting became a constant battle of ‘here, not there’ and your heart grew tired of the duck and goose chase. The gravity of the situation was too much for you, whom hadn’t even tasted their twenties yet.

“Y/N!” Tom launched at you and held you in tight embrace. You let go of the hug, but he didn’t. And his dad watched on in momentary awe as you wrapped your arms around Tom once again, who breathed in every part of you with unwavering adoration.

“Tom!” You rubbed along his back as he hummed. “When I was told we were gonna have a ghost writer, I had no idea it was gonna be you.”

Tom and his dad (being an author) were collaborating on a book, a million dollar idea that’d been years in the making. Tom had stalled it, his dad told you out of simple insecurity. Now that the world was a stage, he was worried people would criticise his dyslexia with every line he wrote, that every stroke of his pen would reveal him as a rare type of monster that lacked intellect, he pondered that he wasn’t insightful enough in some way. His dad may have written a book about Tom outfaming him, but Tom felt like he’d always live in Dom’s shadow in this respect. Fresh from Oxford with an English Bachelor’s degree, Dom employed you to get grease on the gears to commence writing. Tom had always come out of his shell when you were around.

Your writing session lasted from 8 til noon, when Tom had promo with LadBible or Entertainment Weekly or whoever had bid the highest from his presence that day.

The door swung open and three men in all black and mics saddled around their waists called for and led Tom out of the room.

“Tom, session’s over. We need to get you to your BBC promo in 30 and we’re already running behind schedule.’ One cloaked Tom in a jacket you were sure was more expensive than your own home and another whispered something into a walkie talkie: “Holland is on the move. Check the back entrance is clear.” With that, Tom rose to his feet and left completely opposite of the way you came in. Without a word, no goodbye.

You and Dom left the building together around ten minutes later, where ten men with large cameras stood, lenses focused on you, glaring at you, not sure what to make of you. One of the men screams “Hey! You dating Tom Holland” and after that all you hear is clicks and all you see is bright flashing lights and Dom clenches your hand and leads you to your taxi cab.

The next time you see Tom is sooner than expected. The Hollands were hosting a last minute dinner party and you found yourself sitting opposite Tom, feeling his hard, hot and heavy gaze on you. The tension in the room was so thick not even a chainsaw cut through.

“Next topic,” You picked up a card from the deck and read it aloud. “Politics!” You said devilishly as you sip on what was left of the white wine in your cup, and now that your thought process is blurred; Tom’s longing gaze puts you at dismay.

“Fuck!” Harry exploded, and you hear their mother hiss. “Fuck I hate politics, there’s no making it out alive!” he remarked as he drummed on the table cloth, drunken excitement brewing a new energy in the room.

You go on like this for hours until dinner party is dinner party no more. And while Dom, Nikki and all of Tom’s siblings have chosen to exit stage left, it’s 1am and you and Tom have yet to leave the scene.

Tom sets down your deck of debate cards in favour of a genuine moment.

“What are you doing these days, Y/N?” Tom’s not looking at you, he’s looking at your knee as he rubs circles on it. You want to look down there too, see what he finds so intriguing; but you decide against it in fear you might spontaneously combust. You don’t know if this moment’s supposed to be intimate or innocent and you’re not sure if you want to find out.

So you put up a wall.

“I should be asking you the same thing, Holland.” You say sarcastically. “What have you been doing these days? I haven’t seen you around.” Your eyebrows scrunched up together but you’ve got a big, idiot grin on your face that’s more than telling. Tom giggles at your facetiousness.

Tom scratches his head in mock thought. He never clocks out, always putting on a show. “I don’t know - uh.” You’re laughing before Tom has even told the punchline, ‘cause I guess anything’s funny when it’s said by the one you love.”I’m kind of -” He snatches an old Spiderman comic off the floor. “I’m kinda doing this acting thing at the moment. Playing, y’know, this guy.”

“Well I wish you better luck in the future.” Tom has stopped rubbing circles but instead places his two hands on your knees as you rock back in laughter.

“I’m serious, Y/N. What do you do now?”

“Um.” You suddenly forgot your entire career as Tom, with no shade of subtlety, stares right into your soul. “I got my degree. I write like little stories, y’know? Have you ever heard of folklore?”

Tom shook his head.

“They’re like these little, old beautiful myths. And I write them for a living. And if I’m lucky, they get published in The Times. If I’m even luckier, I get to work with my old best friend - ” You feel your world stop temporarily as you call Tom your ‘best friend’ and you pause for all of 0.3 seconds to register Tom’s reaction but his face doesn’t flinch. “-Writing a book with him and his dad.” And that makes Tom smile. So he doesn’t have to tell you he missed you, you just know.

‘Undivided appearance’ and ‘undivided attention’ don’t necessarily mean the same thing in Hollywood as they do in real life, and you learn that the hard way in your writing session.

Tom may have been sat right next to you, but he was miles away. He was doing press with Cosmo, who hadn’t stopped tagging him with blue hearts on his Instagram, Twitter and Snapchat stories, causing his phone to go off every two seconds. You looked at the phone and then at him who then got the hint and put it on silent. Then there was a knock on the door. Tom rushed to open it, expecting that Dom had sent down a food delivery to egg you on finishing this chapter. You rehashed his childhood like a million times - in fact, you were part of it - so when it came to writing the parts that hurt, where you took a more supporting role in his life, you needed his help. The fact is, the knock at the door had come from one of Tom’s men (Tom liked to call him Man In Black no. 3) who hadn’t said as much as a ‘hi’ before he made his announcement. “Tom, you’re on the line with Cosmo in 10.” The man stepped back and pulled out his walkie talkie, “Holland knows he’s on the line with Cosmo at 10.” And then continued to pace around the hallway.

Cosmo called as he said they would and you almost felt for. second like tom might enjoy an entertainment magazine’s company more than yours. The interviewer made glaring comments and passive flirts at Tom who just blushed and chuckled and sipped his water like the woman on the phone calling him ‘hot’ was just too much to handle. At one point, she says: “What must it be like to grow up that beautiful, Tom? With your hair falling into place like dominoes.” You’re not expecting it when Tom tilts the phone so you’re in view. “Well I’m with the most beautiful being on Earth right now so..” Tom looks at you as if to ask ‘is this okay?” and you know it’s too late for these kind of questions, because that moment is headline fodder, so you smile not to make him feel bad for opening Pandora’s box. But Tom is merciless and likes to rub salt in the wound. “This is Y/N! Y/N’s helping me write the book with my Dad! We go way back.” He covers his mouth as soon as he says it. “Shit! They’re not supposed to know about the book yet.”

This is the moment, you think, where you believe when they say your first love is the one you never let go.

And you can’t think of anything purer than the love you have for him.

Tom thinks being on land is boring. He likes being strung from chords 30 feet in the air, and drowning in despair through scenes of emotional turmoil. You want to tell him you’re an arrow from Cupid’s bow about to reach him, but you couldn’t recover from the splinters if Tom shut you down. After all, Tom was a gold rush. A treasure that everyone had discovered but nobody owned. How precious is a jewel that anybody could take home with them?

Tom had invited you to a visit to Brighton with him, a city near the coast, for some inspiration on writing his section of the book.

You accepted. And because you did, you found yourself at the beginning of the end, on Tom’s boat in Brighton. “We don’t have to talk about the book right now.” Tom throws a stack of blue tinted paper on the floor. His dyslexia meant that spelling and reading was so much easier when done on blue pages, and you could only guess that was the reason the body of water around you brought him so much peace. So when you saw that something might compromise your best boy’s happiness, you point it out. To give Tom a little bit of time to exit before things got ugly.

“Tom, I see someone in the bushes.”

“Yeah. It’s a pap.” Tom mumbled nonchalantly.

“They’re here to get pictures of me,” He turned to face you. “and you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, the fans ship us. Think we’d be a good couple after that Cosmo stunt. We would have been a good couple when we were like, 18.” He laughs.

“Huh, yeah.” You look down.

“The best one around.” And you can’t tell if he’s serious.

You rip off one of his blue sheets. “I’m coming. I got hit with inspo.” And you trail to a different section of the boat. A very obvious click of the camera from a shrub nearby coaxes your pen to write without a second thought, How is he so accustomed to this? Fake private moments, protected by sheer glass curtains?

You scrunched your paper, well his paper, into a ball.

Your mind had turned his life into folklore. You weren’t sure if that was crossing a line, so you just put the ball into your bag and hide it until he hits you with the spark again.

“Let me see it.” Tom says.

“No.”

“You ran off to write it and won’t let me see it?”

You held your bag at your hip in defence. “No, Tom. Drop it.”

Tom’s face drops a little bit, but then he reaches into his own bag and reveals a deck of your debate cards. “I know what will cheer you up, good ol’ Y/N.” He sets a card on the wooden table between you two.

“Do you believe in a higher power?”

You toyed with the pendant around your neck which revealed your faith. “Do you?”

“I don’t. But I believe in soulmates.”

You look to the left to really ponder on what Tom is saying, and a paparazzis captures another photo of you in the corner of your eye.

“And you don’t think there’s a higher power that manufactures our souls to make our soulmates?”

Tom feigns a scowl. “That’s ridiculous.”

You scoffed. “How very contrarian of you.”

“What the fuck does that mean.”

“It means you contradict yourself, Thomas.” You laugh as he holds his chest in fake hurt.

“Are you implying I’m anything less than perfect?”

“Never.”

Never. Because you didn’t believe that to be true.

“Good. Cause you’d have to be punished.” Tom picks you up and throws you in the water below before jumping in with you.

On your way home you stop at the yours and Tom’s writing booth, scavenging through your bag to drop off Tom’s notepad, some scrunched up blue and white papers you and Tom thought could still help you write his book. You’d made an addition to your love-hazed scribblings about Tom and reckon you’d die if he found it. You managed to throw the other in the water, excusing yourself with “It’s utterly awful.”, to which you and Tom agreed you wouldn’t throw any more paper in the ocean cause the poor fish already had it hard enough.

You and Tom had a session the next day. Tom was excited for the day, and you could tell because he’d given his phone to one of his big babysitters for the time he had you.

“I think that’s all of yours.” You and Tom made a business out of unscrunching your paper balls to see if they had any useful ideas. You were certain you reached the end of Tom’s. All of his notes had ‘T.H’ written on the back in big and were scribed on blue paper. When it came to your little ‘secret admirer’ notes you weren’t worried - you had an English degree and were quick to think on your feet and was ready to make something up when it came to opening it.

“No, this one’s mine.” He’s confident, so you let him have it. He goes to pick up your tea and then realises it’s nowhere near warm, and was the one you made for yourself when you crept in yesterday evening. Tom has a smile on his face, and then he doesn’t. Before he goes to read it aloud, his eyes tell you he’s reading it again and again and again. “At dinner parties, I’ll call you out on your contrarian shit, and the coastal towns we wondered round will never see a love as pure as it.”

The look on Tom’s face gives you the splinters. He tries to look at you but you know he can’t. You don’t blame him. You can’t look at him either. “I really thought this was a good friendship.”

You hum and nod your head in agreement, pull your lips into a thin straight line as streaks of tears abandon your eyes. This was worse than Tom rubbing salt in your wounds. He’s rubbing dirt in your painful fucking gashes and you are reminded of why this didn’t work before, why it will never be.

And you wouldn’t dare to dream about him anymore.

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i-am-a-mes · 4 years

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Blueberry Chapter 2

Summary: Y/N is fresh out of college with a small job at a newspaper, when she meets Chris Evans. They start a Sugar Daddy/Sugar baby relationship and try to navigate through their feelings, desires and personal obstacles.

Warning: Angst, anxiety, not so confident reader, shitty roommate, swearing

Parring: AU Chris Evans x female plus size reader

A/N: Hi there. So this is my first Chris Evans fic. It’s still a WIP and don’t really have that much of a plan with it. It will be a fluffy, angsty, smutty adventure spiced with some Sugar Daddy, Ddlg and D/s elements. But don’t expect that from the get go though. It’s a slow burn in some elements. I hope you enjoy it and feel free to leave a comment and share!

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Blueberry Masterlist

Chapter Two:

Next day at work in my tiny cubicle I sat typing in dear Helen’s answers while trying to cancel out my coworker’s noise and talking across the desk and half walls.

When my lunch break came around I sat at a corner with an apple and a cup of water.

Getting all the nutrients today.

As I scrolled on my phone, I overheard some of the girls from the entertainment department talking loudly by the coffee machine.

“Have you seen him?” One I recognized as being Lola, head writer of the gossip column.

A young girl standing before her with sandy beach coloured hair shaking her head at the question.

“OMG! He is absolutely gorgeous! He is one of the most desirable bachelors in the city.” She made big eyes at the blond girl and filled her cup with coffee “Let’s go see if we can get a look at the priced stallion” She winked and they both left in a giggle fit.

Soon there was nothing left of my lunch besides the scrapped apple core, and I gathered my things and made my way back towards my wonderful joy-filled cubicle - *Insert eyeroll here*

Just as I turned the corner towards my spot, I saw Lola and a few other women standing around, giggling and whispering.

Jesus Christ! Is this high school all over again?

“What is going on over there?” Jasper, my coworker and fellow aspiring journalist, popped their head over the wall that separated our work stations and nodded toward the flock of crazed women.

I shrugged and leaned my head on the wall. “I don’t know. Something about some hotshot coming to the office. Lola was very hooked on the.. What did she call him.. Right: “Priced stallion” I air quoted and soon we both busted out laughing.

We looked at the group and I turned my back towards them and kept small talking with Jasper.

Suddenly they exclaimed “Holy shit! That is one hunk of a man!” I rolled my eyes “Come on Jasper, be serious” “I am.. Take a look for yourself”

I turned around with a huff leaving my lips, and as soon as my eyes landed on him my mouth dropped. I recognized those blue eyes and broad shoulders. It was Blueberry Chris.

SHIT!

I quickly faced Jasper again with wide eyes, and in a matter of seconds placed my butt in my chair keeping my head down.

Please don’t let him have seen me!

“Y/N what is going on? What is happening?” Jasper looked utterly confused by my behavior

“Nothing, I don’t know what you are talking about! I just need to get this done by today!” the words fell rapidly out of my mouth as I tried to type away on my computer.

“Oh shit, he is coming over here!” Jasper just managed to whisper before they too placed themself in their chair. My heart was beating faster and faster.

No, no, no! Please don’t come over here!

“Ahem… “ A soft cough came from the top of my left wall. I very slowly looked up, and there they were. Those goddamn blue eyes. It should be a crime having such blue eyes! I looked at him and tried to act casual.. Big emphasis on TRIED!

“Uhm hello there…”

“Hi.. “ Chris stood leaning over the wall to my station with a smirk on his plush lips “What a wonderful surprise”

“Well.. “ *GULP*”..surprise..!” I gestured out with my arms with a pink blush sweeping across my face.

“So.. wh…what are.. Uhm.. you doing here?” I barely spoke up as my eyes darted from his face and to my keyboard.

“Just here helping with some legal matters regarding the company that owns this newspaper” A small smile grazing his lips, before he leaned down over the wall and said in a low, sultry voice “But I can also provide some blueberry muffins if you still want some” before winking at me and flashing those perfect teeth.

OH MY GOD!

I visibly gulped as I peeked up at him saucer-eyed, feeling like I was being drawn in by some unknown power that was his very essence.

“Oh.. sure. I would love some”

Okay, who is this girl flirting?… I think that’s what I’m doing, with this man!

He chuckled as he leaned back up, straightening his cufflinks and began turning his back to make his way out of the office, but not before he said in a whisper “then you better check your messages, sweetheart”

Flustered I took out my phone to see a reply from Blueberry Chris. Just as I looked up to answer him, he was gone. I slowly rose to see him, but only caught his smile before the elevator door closed. I let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding and slumped down in my seat with a huff.

What is my life right now?!

I quickly grabbed my phone again to open the message, and saw the timestamp being just after my lunch break which is why I hadn’t seen it.

Hello there,

Well you are in luck, because I run a very exclusive service that only caters to beautiful girls named Y/N who drink tea in oversized cups.

I can provide the tasty treats for the small price of one dinner.

/CH

My fingers hovered the keyboard on my phone, as Jasper came into my booth. “So you need to get talking woman!” and poked me repeatedly on my shoulder.

“Right right.. Calm down” I said in a semi whisper. I then proceeded to tell them all about yesterday and the meeting of Chris in the coffeeshop.

“Wow. It’s something out of a romance novel! You sooo have to go on a date with him!”

“But I don’t go on dates.. And especially not guys like that. He is sooo astronomically out of my league. And on an entirely different note.. I don’t have clothes appropriate for a date!” I fell forward on my desk hiding my head between my arms and let out a nervous laugh.

“Listen..” Jasper laid a hand softly on my shoulder “I know YOU don’t think you could get a man like that, but between you and me.. “ I raised an eyebrow to look at them sceptically “you deserve a man like that and he is lucky to get the chance to date such a wonderful woman as you” They smiled genuinely at me with a glimmer in their eyes.

“You only say that because you want to live vicariously through my chaotic dating life”

“True.. it’s so boring when you have had a partner for 5 years…So do it for me nonetheless? And if it goes to utter shit you can blame me”

I pretended to think hard about it before a small smirk came over my lips.

“There’s my girl.. So answer the hunk and let’s get to planning” I shook my head as I pulled up the message app.

So that sounds like a fair deal. When and where does this transaction take place? And are there any specifications?

/Y/N

“Okay! I did it! Oh fuck!” I looked up to the ceiling before looking at Jasper who sported a wicked grin. “YES!” We giggled together before deciding to try to work for the last couple of hours.

When 4 o’clock finally rolled around and it was time to pack up my stuff for the day, I grabbed my phone to place in my backpack, and saw an answer from Chris. I quickly opened it while gnawing on the cuticles on my thumb.

Be ready Friday at 7.30 pm and wear something nice. I will pick you up. Then you shall receive a most delicious dessert ;)

/CH

Butterflies immediately began floating around in my stomach, and a big grin appeared on my lips.

I got a date with Chris Evans on Friday. Holy shit!

The next couple of days flew by much faster than I could keep up. Besides the piles of answers of Helen’s answers I had to get through, a bunch of other small edit jobs landed on my desk and the wonderful task of cleaning and reorganizing some of the archives. I really hated that I didn’t get any bigger jobs, not even a proper writing assignment.

But there wasn’t any opening at any other magazine, newspaper or publishing company. So I just had to bear with it for a while longer. I was beginning to look for a second job, to help pay my bills and maybe start a little nesting egg, but as I kept getting these stupid small completely irrelevent jobs, I wouldn’t have time for a second job.

All these thoughts hung over me and clouded my mind as I walked home. I didn’t have any money for the bus today, but the weather was nice despite being a little chilly. As my stress levels rose by each step and the thought of another night eating cereal, I felt my phone vibrate. I stopped and plucked it out from my jacket pocket.

Message from Blueberry Chris

OH SHIT! I forgot all about that! What day is it?! What time is it?! Shit shit shit

My mind went into overdrive as I opened the text

Can’t wait for tonight sweetheart. See you in an hour.

/CH

I stopped in my tracks and frantically looked at the clock. SHIT! 1 hour till our date! How could I forget!? I began running home, being slightly comforted that I was only a few blocks from home, so my not-so-up-to-par stamina could keep up. As I darted through the door of my apartment, Allie yelled after me. “HEY! Y/N! Hold up!” I came to a halt just before I reached my door, and slowly turned around. “Yes Allie” I said mildly out of breath.

“What’s with you? Finally beginning to exercise? Good for you” Before I could interrupt her she continued.

“Rent is up.. I need the 500 dollars now” She made at motion with her hand to signal “give me”

“What? 500? But I thought it wasn’t due till next week. I haven’t got my pay yet, and isn’t it usually 150?” I was defeated and even more stressed.

“Yeah well, I need them tonight and it’s up because the electric bill is up” She chewed on her gum while looking clearly annoyed with me.

“But I barely spend any on electricity. It’s Craig that’s using….”

“Don’t talk about my boyfriend! Why are you concerned with him? In love with him or something?” She mocked me.

“God no! I’m just saying….”

“Just get me the money tonight. Alright? Or do you need to find a new place to stay?!” She took one step in my direction and crossed her arms making me back up against my door. “No no.. I’ll get you the money, Allie. Promise”

“Good!” She swung her hair over her shoulder and walked towards her room where music was blaring.

Quickly, I escaped into the safety of my room and let out a shaky breath.

What am I supposed to do now?! I don’t have 500 dollars!

I sank to my knees and cradled my face in my hands letting out a sob. I was interrupted by *Be our guest* song ringing from my phone, and without looking picked up.

“Hello… “ my voice small and low-

“Soooo are you ready for tonight?” Jasper’s upbeat voice boomed through.

SHIT! I forgot again!

“Uhm yeah… sure” A sniffle left me which Jasper caught on to.

“Hey.. what’s the matter? Did Dream-boy cancel on you?”

“No! I just.. Allie.. You know, it doesn’t matter. To be honest I forgot all about it!”

“WHAT?!” They almost screeched through the phone.

“Well.. It’s been a week okay? With the extra work and Allie being Allie.. I think I should just cancel!” I exclaimed with a defeated sigh.

“Are you crazy, woman?! A date with that man is just what you need! Get your mind on something else for a change. Get a break from everyday life”

“Maybe.. I only got.. “I checked the time..”Fuck, 45 minutes!”

“Then get your ass in gear! Take a shower, shave… because you never know” They teased

“OMG! Jass!” I laughed at their joke and could feel the anxiety letting go just a little bit.

“And you grab that black dress you got. Let your hair down and do simple makeup”

“Yes sir!” I saluted in mock which made us both laugh.

“But seriously Y/N. Do it. It would be good for you. And if all else fails, you got a free dinner out of it”

“I don’t expect him to pay, Jasper”

“Whatever. Get your butt in gear and we’ll talk when you’re back home”

After I hung up I took the deepest breath of my life and got to work.

40 minutes later I was ready. Almost. When I was doing the final touches and applying my lipstick (a subtle pink nude that just so happened to be my only lipstick) I suddenly had a thought.

Wait.. I never gave Chris my address. How will he know where to pick me up?

I quickly grabbed my phone and began texting him

Hello there…

Just remembered I never gave you my address. So maybe we could just meet at the restaurant?

/Y/N

After I pressed send, I began collecting my things in my only decent evening kind of bag, a little black sling bag that just had room for my phone, wallet, keys and lipstick, and despite being a thrift find with wear and tare it still looked quite good. In fact when I looked in my mirror I thought I turned out quite presentable, all things considered. My dress was a black fitted dress that ended just above the knee, with ¾ sleeves and a somewhat low v-neck. The shoes are not too short and not too tall, red stiletto and my hair hanging loose and framing my face. As Jasper had instructed I had kept the makeup light: A black winged eyeliner and subtle blush over a light foundation and the nude lips to complete the look.

Damn girl, you cleaned up good!

*DING* A message came through my phone

Blueberry Chris:

No need sweetheart. ;) I got my ways

/CH

I didn’t quite get what he meant and as I was about to answer him the door phone rang. I whipped my head up and went into the living room, but not before Allie was answering it.

“Uhm hello?”

“Yes, This is Chris. Is Y/N there?” Chris’ voice boomed over the speaker.

“Who is this?” Allie asked in shock.

“I’m Chris and I’m here to pick up Y/N”

I ran over to the speaker and pushed Allie to the side.

“Yes, I’m here. Uhm.. I–I’ll be right down” Quickly I pulled on my jacket and tried to avoid Allie’s stare.

“Who is that? Are you going on a date? EW! Who in their right mind would go out with you?” She laughed and gave me the elevator look “Aw you really tried didn’t you”

Don’t listen to her, just get out!

“Well.. uhm… bye.. “

I went out the door and was already down the first couple of steps before the door closed after me. I stopped and took a breath before continuing my descent down the 1 million stairs.

When I finally got to the door, with a heart beating because of anxiety and a very poorly resting heart rate, I saw Chris’ silhouette outside

Well no turning back now

Taglist:

@thejemersoninferno

#Chris Evans #chris evans au #chris evans fanfiction #daddy chris evans #chris evans smut #CEvans #captain america #Avengers #MCU #blueberryfic #chris evans x reader

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emachinescat · 3 years

Text

Way Back Wednesday #1

Welcome to Way Back Wednesday! Every Wednesday, I am delving into my past as a fanfic writer and reflecting on and sharing one of my stories… starting from the very beginning, 16 years ago, when I was a 14-year-old kid discovering her love for fandom. ❤️

Today’s story is…

An Unlikely Team

American Dragon: Jake Long & Kim Possible

Summary: Monkey Fist and Huntsman have teamed up in order to defeat their respective foes. With Monkey Ninjas, goblins, dragons, nacos, spy gear, magic potion, secrets, regrets, and tears, no one is going to escape from this situation without changing somehow.

Rating: G

Chapters: 18 | Words: 12,353

Year Published: 2005 | My age: 14

Relationships: Jake Long/Rose | Huntsgirl | Characters: Jake Long, Ron Stoppable, Kim Possible, Monkey Fist, Huntsman, Rose | Huntsgirl, Lao Shi, Fu Dog

AO3 Tags: Crossover, Suspense, Humor

My reflections on and "review" of the story are after the break! :)

Oh, wow. It was an adventure coming back to this story! It marked a lot of firsts for me - my first crossover, my first story above 10k words, my first chapter fic. I don't remember a whole lot about my writing process back then, or about the circumstances of writing this story. I was 14, and a lot has happened since then. I do remember that I was still coming off the review-high from my first story, and that I had no idea what I was doing, not really. And it kind of shows.

I guess I should go ahead and say that this story, like the last one, isn't bad. I mean, the plot, if a bit simple and contrived, makes sense and moves along fairly well, and the characters (except for Rose, but we'll get to her in a minute) are pretty well portrayed, and grammatically, there were no glaring errors that I could see. It was interesting enough; it has been probably a decade or more since I last opened this story, but it still managed to hold my attention well enough, I suppose. It has some very positive reviews (and some critical ones), so I must have done something right.

But I've got to go over the issues with this story. Most of them I think are just hilarious. I'd been writing since I was five, but I was new to this kind of storytelling and still trying to find my voice as a writer. Once again, it shows.

Okay, so first, there's the plot itself - super simple, very contrived, and kind of weird. Huntsman and Monkey Fist team up so that M can help H capture and unmask the American Dragon, and in return, H will give M a talisman that will "undoubtedly" make him the Ultimate Monkey Master? Sure, seems legit, I guess.

Then there's the fact that I had to end every chapter - or nearly every chapter - with a cliffhanger, even if it didn't warrant one. I was dying laughing because most chapters would end with a character saying something hopeful to another character, but then muttering under their breath something grim and suspenseful. For example: "'Let us go. Jake's life is depending on us. He is alive for now...' and then he added almost inaudibly, 'but not for long...'" It's hilarious, and I wish I could remember if I was trying to be edgy or just ensure readers would come back, or if I thought being ominous was a hallmark of good writing. Also, the chapters were overall very short. I think I just wrote however much I felt like writing and then posted. Of course, I was having to post between school and the Boys & Girls Club where my mom worked (and being grounded, like a lot), so I guess I just wrote what and when I could.

Some of the dialogue's a bit clunky, and I had a weird thing with time limits. They capture Jake, and then they have to send Huntsgirl out to get a potion that will make him human because they forgot (???) this very important part of the plan for some reason. She says something along the lines of, "My Huntstick will transport me to the magical black market almost instantly. I'll be back within an hour." That doesn't add up, unless she's going to spend an hour haggling with the seller. Then she gets back, amps up the whole evil villain plot, and then adds, "Oh, yeah, it'll take 30 minutes for this potion to take effect." So she and the baddies just stand there for half an hour watching Jake slowly turn from dragon to human. Then when he's been poisoned (another weird plot contrivance), Lao Shi says, "If we don't give him the antidote in 30 seconds, he'll die!" I suppose I did set the scene, whether intentionally or not, by having a clock ticking in the background, but the way that all of the characters seem to have such an acute knowledge and understanding of time is just weird to me.

The only aspect of this story to actually bother me is the disservice I did to Rose's character. In the show, she's portrayed as a pretty strong protagonist-by-day/antagonist-by-night, but in my story, she's pitiful. I don't know if I just consumed a lot of media with weak female characters or what, but it's super cringey how emotional and weak she's portrayed as once she finds out the truth about Jake. She cries, which is fine, but then girlfriend just up and faints! She cries some more, begs Jake to forgive her, acting like she'll never be able to live with herself or forgive herself if he doesn't, then gets mad at him when he needs a little time to process that the girl he has a crush on is also the girl who's been trying to kill him. Then as soon as he apologizes for... being traumatized, I guess? she turns around and starts spouting off stuff about never being able to forgive herself if he'd died or something. I apologize most deeply to her character.

Oh, I just realized I haven't really discussed the Kim Possible side of things, mostly because it's pretty cut and dry. Those characters all seemed to be, well, in character. I especially feel I had Ron down to a T. It was also really funny the way I had Huntsman and Monkey Fist constantly arguing even through their alliance. The fight scenes, with Kim and with Jake, are very minimal. They're usually one step above just saying, "They fought." On that note, there's not a whole lot of detail or description, but a lot of dialogue. I definitely could have expanded more on the world to make the crossover feel more complete.

All that (mostly light-hearted) criticism aside, it was fun to get to go back and read this, and if you think you'd be interested, be my guest. It's a cute little read, and important to me because it marked the second step in my fan-fiction journey.

Next week, we'll be taking a look at one of the cringiest things I've ever written - yikes!

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ziamhaze · 5 years

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Why Zayn Malik is the walking embodiment of a Ravenclaw: a doctoral thesis

now if any of you know me you know that I would sell my soul for a quality written hp au, but one thing that’s been a constant for me when starting a fic is the question of whether or not the writer will categorize zayn as a ravenclaw or a slytherin (there’s no other option besides these two). Well I’m here to hopefully end that century long debate and give it to you straight (not quick): zain javadd malik is UNQUESTIONABLY a ravenclaw.

brace yourselves. - also you should right click open links in new tabs for evidence/best experience-

ok, so like niall, I think a lot of people associate zayn with surface qualities and truth be told I don't blame them because unless you take the time to get to know who he is beyond the small talk in interviews and making sure liam didn't fall off the stage half the time, I can totally see why people put him in slytherin - stereo typically moody, mysterious, and loves to cause ruckus with louis.

HOWEVER, people need to look into the quietness and notice that he's not sitting there like a hufflepuff and taking what's being said as is, even though he does get talked over a lot, he's making sure that if he has something to say, it's because he's got everyone's opinions and a full picture of all arguments/facts before he's giving his witty two sense and that's even if he feels overly moved to express that ‘no, you're all wrong it's actually this’ or ‘well you've forgot about this pov’. but make sure you know your place bc even if you directly talk to him about something he may not talk to you about it bc he's a reserved ravenclaw, not willing to openly talk like most social gryffindors or not so humble slytherins would. It's rare that he's actually saying something to brag about himself or talk about himself because that's neither here nor there and most of the time he won't even speak up about the previously mentioned things bc as a true ravenclaw, he knows what’s right and he doesn't need to boast about it like a slytherin; he's confident enough in his own intelligence - sometimes misconstrued as ravenclaw arrogance! but is it really? bc if you're right you're right.

let's also talk about his antics with louis (and the occasional harry - also see: VERY rare liam occurrences). yes, using one's wit to their advantage is textbook slytherin, which is why zayn can share this trait, but also notice who's instigating the pranks (correct answer: louis) and how zayn would carry them out. always calculated, always waiting to hear instructions fully instead of running full force ahead with it all bc 'you guys are fucking idiots if you think I'm going to do this and run the risk of getting caught - take the time to plan this shit out and make it worth while. I'm not gonna half ass a prank, if they're gonna cry, they're gonna bawl.'

how about his love for english? a typical ravenclaw characteristic? perhaps, but it's so important to see how he views the world through the wording and thoughts/philosophies of othersin order to influence his own being. I’m dizzy on how much he speaks in interviews about how much he wants to go back to school and do a proper english degree, wanting to learn beyond the books he can buy on his own. be careful though! zayn will say what he thinks and believes no matter what!!! so while he loves english and the words (such a shame he wasn’t allowed to speak more about urdu and his culture while in the band), and the books he reads, it's how he compartmentalizes that alongside his own beliefs and thoughts that makes his favouritism notable. also slight note at how he values intelligence in others and seeks that out from there. Need I use his quote on education: “one of the most important things you can have”. I mean, that in itself should be enough for this post.

moving on to his confusing loyalty! I've yet to see zayn categorized as a gryffindor or hufflepuff, but many overlook his soft nature and caring side - ziall anyone?? it's innate for him to be caring towards those he loves. let's not forget that "zayn wears his heart on his sleeve" bc HE DOES! as caring as a hufflepuff and as loyal as a gryffindor, but what sets him apart is his raging ability to cut off people or stop contact with them after a while because they've done him wrong (if they listened to him the first time or actually paid attention to what he said then they wouldn't be in this situation) and no, I'm not just referring to post 1D zayn mess. and no, I do not agree with the statement that zayn can do no wrong - though as a ravenclaw he might disagree with you on that bc when he’s in his element he’s always right. it's important to also note that sometimes he just needs a nudge, he hasn't forgotten about you, he's just bad at texting back - cue the on and off liam friendship post band break up. It's clear when it comes to some old interviews that he cares about these people but let's not forget that he has a temper and can let that sometimes cloud his judgement. now would be a good time to ask if anyone knows if he has a new manager yet after that fiasco.

can we back track a second on his need for personal space to think and caring nature because of it? self proclaimed introvert, I think a lot of people misconstrue what they saw of him in the band as temperamental and stuck up, when in reality he was simply someone who enjoyed the banter with others until he needed to go away and rejuvenate by himself for a little bit (tbt toddler zayn who needed to play with his toys by himself for a while after being around too many people). are there introverts in every house? without a doubt, however they’re most commonly found in ravenclaw, specifically the core trait of needing to gather their barrings and recharge before going back to join in on the fun. you see, unlike best mate slytherin louis, zayn mostly holds back his bitterness from the others, making sure that he doesn’t say anything that might hurt them too badly - something that I greatly attribute to him knowing when he needs to go away for a bit before getting annoyed. those of you who know, know. soft zayn hours are intense! honing in on his own needs of space to establish a calm demeanor in order to give others the attention and care he thinks they AND THEIR THOUGHTS deserve (namely crinkly eyed leeyum). you’ll know it when you see it: the chin hook hugs, back rubs, and closed mouth smiles scream ‘I appreciate you and am here in the moment’. it’s here where he shares a lot of caring (even if he mistakes what’s going on as something he actually needs to be concerned about but better safe than sorry!), nurturing traits with hufflepuffs. having this social awareness also allows for him to clock important info that others might think he’s overlooking by not speaking - a ravenclaw? as if.

speaking of personal space, we got a glimpse into his house from TIU documentary, but his solo interviews have given us a chance to read (and if we’re lucky, see) how he transforms his houses into his own sanctuary. now, each house can debate on their own about the purpose of their common room to instill an element of comfort and while no, zayn doesn’t publicly have a library or reading nook like a typical ravenclaw might have, I think a PERSONAL ART/GRAFFITI ROOM SUFFICES. we’ll get to his art later, trust me. there are other spaces documented too though: his pirate theme shed in the backyard, tepee, room made up of entirely collaged walls in his old LA house, and let’s not forget about how strongly he felt towards the old tour bus that he felt compelled to get a tattoo reminder (#zouis). his need to make a sanctuary out of any space he inhabits for longer than a week confirms how important individual comfort is to him and again, how in touch with this he is (I see a good debate here on whether or not this could be a hufflepuff trait as well). little boy from bradford who’s smashing it buying his Mum and family a house?? wants them to have that comfort too!!! the “gift” was also probably one of his most humble moments ever documented, so let’s not forget he’s a lil humble ravenclaw

and what would a zayn ravenclaw analysis be without picasso!zayn? ravenclaw's are not only intelligent - please note that I didn't use the word smart bc there IS a difference to them - but they're also creative, both in the conventional and unconventional sense. Of course we know of zayn's killer high notes (ask if me if I'm over the high note in If I Got You. hint: I'm not) and drawing abilities (zayn, will you draw a picture of me? no, I don't liek you) but it's the passion and WHAT IT IS that he's singing and drawing that matters. yes, comics, album sticker packs, very bland 'A' for a certain band member - but note the enthusiasm and NEED to talk about ‘who Harry? tell them WHO drew that A tattoo for you!’ ‘you, it was you zayn.’ SMUG AF SMILE and tell me what other topic zayn talks about with that much enthusiasm and outspokenness other than liam payne. there are many instances however where someone (usually brother niall) needs to coax him out to actually display this individualistic personality and I’m not gonna hide the link in the underlines this time because it’s SO IMPORTANT to watch this video of him wanting to sing drake (note the complete opposite genre of their published music) but nervous on getting lost in himself bc ‘don’t start something if you don’t want me to finish it’ and Niall knows this. liam knows this the most, but niall’s outward with it and literally has to softly start siNGING IN ORDER FOR ZAYN TO KNOW ‘YOU’RE NOT IN THIS ALONE AND OTHERS WILL APPRECIATE WHAT YOU CARE ABOUT TOO, LOOK LIAM WILL EVEN BEATBOX FOR YOU’. EXTREMELY CONFIDENT IN HIS ELEMENT. don’t mistake that for 24/7 slytherin confidence. in fact, pause. ravenclaw’s when in their element will have surging confidence and might boast to the level of slytherin’s but they’ll wait for the right moment to show you up and pay attention because when they do they can get very competitive. was him getting a tattoo first out of the band at age 16 something worth overlooking? absolutely not! by now I’ll personally hand deliver you an award if you can give me an accurate count of his ink, but hello??? is this artistry? duh. is this him saying what’s important to him in art form? warmer. are these passionate things he cares about but sometimes won’t find necessary to speak about out loud? on fire! another shameless you-must-look-at-this-post link HERE of me talking to him about his art in the midst of 5,000 screaming girls who all wanted to talk about his looks. LOOK. AT. HIS. APPRECIATION! WHO HE IS AND OTHERS RECOGNIZING THAT BASED ON HOW HE PROJECTS HIMSELF IS SO IMPORTANT TO ZAYNIE. Look, if zayn’s not authentic to himself or exuding individuality then even he would tell you that he’s failing himself. we can see this also in his fashion choices (there have been a few questionable moments, but over all, ace outfits). nowadays harry tends to get a lot more in your face fashion press, but do I need to pull out receipts on how many best dressed lists zayn has been on SOLELY because he thinks outside the box and doesn’t give a fuck? listen to me when I say that ravenclaw’s will die without originality/individuality and the ability to take control of theirs

perfect segue to his exit of the band. was it bc of mental health issues, I mean yeah, he’s written such, but were those spurred on bc he didn’t have his space to be an individual and do his own thing? obviously. and before anyone says anything about him taking control of his future being an ‘I don’t take bs and will stand up for it’ decision as a slytherin trait, let me remind you how long it took him to actually do it. imo a slytherin would have stood up from the start if they were that unhappy about it. again, he looked at things from all angles for a long enough time to be able to understand what was going on before doing something he’d regret. sadly if it did affect his mental health that much maybe he took a little too long in making the decision but ‘we do it all for the fans’ and while I appreciated that, I also appreciated him writing an entire song about wanting to take off clothes and the love of being pushed up against the wall soooooooooooo. his songwriting skills: they're definitely getting there, but the amount of songs (TWENTY SEVEN) he felt he NEEDED to put on Icarus Falls because he didn't want to just let those stories NOT be told, it was IMPERATIVE that people hear those thoughts stuck in his head. unfortunately his tongue got the best of him - as it does for most ravenclaws! - and his passion did not catch up with his patience, so now many won't even get my previous IIGY high note reference bc of the sales flop that was Z2 - something spurred on by him calling out the record label for not letting him release it. can they be blamed though, because zayn, again, the ravenclaw poster boy, allegedly doesn't want to do promo for his music because to him it's not about the sales, instead, the music. should. speak. for. itself! ‘if 10 people listen, cool. if 10 million people listen, also cool, but I'd rather 10 people ACTUALLY LISTEN and appreciate the art versus 10 million people listening bc I look good in an interview’ and if that doesn't say artistic ravenclaw passion, idk what does

#zayn malik #zayn #ravenclaw #ziam #ziall #zouis #hp #harry potter #zayn masterpost #sorta #ok this took me sooooo long so pls take a look!#ravenclaw zayn #mine #my words #zen

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fizzyxcustard · 5 years

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Just To Let Go (4)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Masterlist here

Full fic on AO3 here

Fandom: Real Person Fiction (Richard Armitage)

Summary: You and Richard Armitage are best friends and during a meeting in London, the two of you find that your relationship takes a very serious turn. You are terrified of letting yourself go and loving Richard, despite knowing deep down that you adore him. Your insecurity is keeping you both from being together, and you also find pictures online of the two of you in public. Richard begs you to accompany him in New York and make the move, but will you overcome it all and finally find your strength?

Warnings: Bad language, sexual references, angst, insecurity

Pairings: Richard Armitage x Fem!Reader

Comments/Notes: Originally posted under fizzy-custard as an imagine with no official story title. Now condensed into 4 parts. If you wish to be added to any character, series or fandom tag lists, message me or send an ask. Thank you @tigereyesf for requesting the final part of this fic...which I forgot to post as I felt everyone has lost interest. This is for you! ;)

Follow Forever tag list: @himoverflowers @shikin83 @theincaprincess @deepestfirefun @nowiloveandwilllove @houseofrahl @mynameisnoneya1991@blankdblank @captainrainbowpanda @cd1242 @c-s-stars @thorins-magnificent-ass @patanghill17 @trees-and-ink @inumorph @leah-halliwell92 @msjava1972 @bespectacled-bunny @ghostlyandee @raindancer2004 @dottiechan @captain-almighty @hobbitlover23 @catthefearless @epicallychrissy @nelswp @adaliamalfoy @spn-obsession @armitageadoration @peneigh-dzredfohl @here2have-fun @xxbyimm @greendragonette @littlebird54 @thophil2941btw @princessoferebor94 @banlaochranda @wilhelmyna @gabrieleaquaman @rachel1959 @serpensortia06 @rcrispina @kategorically-challenged @tigereyesf @jumpingmanatee @alae-megallen @tschrist1 @inlovewithamantwicemyage @aspiringtranslator

Richard was watching as each person walked through the arrivals area at JFK airport. He smiled as families were reunited, couples embraced and friends met for the first time in years, or maybe for the first time. He held a rose in his hand, waiting for you. The rest of the roses, all three bouquets, were back at the apartment, arranged on the bed for you with a bottle of wine and two accompanying glasses.

He checked his watch as the dozens of passengers disappeared through the terminal and off towards their final destinations, and then he looked up at the arrivals board. Your flight had definitely landed: United Airlines from London Heathrow came in at midday.

Richard saw an immigration officer walk past and enquired as to whether the plane you had been scheduled to board had landed. The officer, a middle aged, white haired man, grunted, saying that it had and walked on. Surely the officers wouldn’t have had any issues with your visa and entry, so you being detained was highly unlikely.

Back in England and you had resorted to calling upon your parents for help and you were temporarily living with them until you could get yourself back up on your feet. Your mother had already told you how much of an idiot you were for giving up your job and home for a man you had only just gotten into a relationship with.

Two days before you were due to join Richard and you had been messaged by an ex-colleague from the cinema you had just resigned from, with a link to an online article. The article had shown pictures of you and Richard walking hand in hand down a London street, both of you completely unawares to any photographer in the area. But the worst part had been all the degrading comments you had read beneath, slating you for being with Richard and calling you very disgusting names like ‘dog’ and ‘ugly bitch’. You knew these were just jealous fans, but the comments had cut you deep, re-rooting all the insecurity that you felt you were just putting to bed.

The comments kept playing through your mind as you slept, when you showered, when you ate, and in the end you had decided against joining Richard. But you were a coward and couldn’t be up front and tell him.

Around early evening of the day you were due to land in New York, you looked up at the clock, knowing that it would be time your flight would land and Richard would be in arrivals waiting for you. Your father was too busy watching a quiz programme to even be concerned with your worries, and your mother was taking a nap after an overnight shift at the local hospital where she worked as a nurse.

Your phone began to vibrate on the coffee table so you grabbed it and disappeared into your room. Your heart hammered painfully as you saw his name across the screen in large letters.

“Where are you?” he asked, sounding frantic as you accepted the call.

“I never got on the plane, Rich,” you told him, the pain in your chest rising upwards so you began sobbing.

“W....wha? I’m stood in ARRIVALS WAITING FOR YOU!” he shouted down the phone. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me? What’s going on? I can’t keep this up!”

“Well, you don’t have to,” you snapped back at him. “Thank all your wonderful, dedicated fans for this.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Richard growled.

You closed your eyes and exhaled, gathering your thoughts as much as you could from the fog that had descended on you. “Photos were published online of us, and some of the comments made against me were disgusting. I’ve never been called anything like that by people who KNOW me, let alone people I’ve never met before. I can’t stand that.”

“Why should anyone else’s opinion matter?” Richard’s voice had lowered in volume, but the frustration was deepening. This was when you knew he was at his worst; he didn’t shout, but his voice became a quiet growl. “You’re playing me around now, and I can’t carry on like this with you, not knowing what’s going on and when you’re going to break up with me next. I mean, come on, you’ve sold your stuff and moved out. Where are you now?”

“I’m with my mom and dad.”

“Who you don’t get on with?” Richard almost mocked. “You gave up your job and flat to now let this stupidity get to you.”

“Why is it stupidity?” you argued.

“I have this every day of my life. My name and my job are dragged through shit by critics and God knows who else. You’ve got to learn to get over it. And I know that’s easy for me to say, but you need to stand against it and go for what you love in life. That’s if you love me...”

“You know I do,” you whispered, tears falling down your face. “I love you more than anything.”

“Then you need to focus on me, on our future, and fuck everyone else.”

***

Those horrible, degrading comments that Richard’s fans had put online about you still raced through your mind. You would lie in bed, constantly sifting through the words, wondering if they were right. Your relationship with Richard was still on the brink of breaking down due to the fact that you would not agree to go to New York.

Richard had been on the phone with you again, and it was now a week since you had been scheduled to meet up with him at JFK airport. He slumped down on the bed and sighed in exasperation; he was tired, frustrated and didn’t know how long he could continue fighting for you.

Each day that passed, that you were physically absent, and it became harder for Richard to function. The brief taste he had had of you back in England had left him hungry for more, pining for you more than ever. In meetings regarding an upcoming play he was considering, and Richard was distracted, slipping into daydreams, imagining you saying ‘yes’ and finally coming to New York to be with him.

He looked at the large wine stain in the carpet where he had smashed a bottle of wine against the wall a week earlier in a fit of rage once he had returned to his apartment, without you. The roses had been stuffed away in the rubbish as tears had fallen down his face, and his hands bled from thorns digging into his flesh.

And things now were still no better with you. Your whole relationship was hanging by a tiny thread, threatening to tear apart at any moment. It was barely even a relationship, and had only been anything remotely like what it should have been for a handful of days.

In bed you let your mind think of wherever Richard was. All you could feel were his hands on you, him inside you, and his lips slipping over every inch of you. You had never been so wanted, cherished and needed. Richard treated you right in every way a person should be in a relationship. The truth was this, you adored him, loved him more than you had ever loved anyone before, and it was all scaring you. You had put your fear aside once, giving in, and now those hateful comments were plaguing you. There was no one you could tell, apart from your parents. Richard’s career was always something you kept quiet; when you were both friends, you only said that he worked in London and New York to other people, never elaborating on the details.

All you had done was consider your own feelings, never Richard’s. Everything, so far, had been about you. You looked at your clock and saw it was nearly midnight, so it would be evening for Richard. You had already text a few times that day, passing the usual pleasantries to each other, but with tension lingering behind your words.

You picked up your phone and let it call out to him. Within half a dozen rings and he answered.

“Hi,” he said softly. You could sense a smile behind the greeting, as though you could hear it pouring down the phone line.

“I’m sorry if I’ve bothered you, Rich,” you apologised, pulling yourself up in bed.

“You never bother me,” he replied. “I’m just glad you called. I...erm, miss you so much.”

“I miss you, too,” you said, closing your eyes. You squeezed your lips together and tried to push the painful lump in your throat away. “I lie awake at night and I want to be next to you. I imagine how it all felt when we slept together.”

You heard Richard’s light chuckle down the phone. “Then come out to me. I’d come to you but I have so many meetings to finalise my contract for the upcoming play.”

“So you’ve decided to do it?” you asked.

“Don’t dodge what we were talking about. I know you. Come out to me.”

The more you heard his voice, and the way it pleaded for you, and the easier it was for him to break your resolve. All you wanted was to feel him, see him and be wrapped up in his arms.

“Alright, and it’ll be a definite this time,” you promised.

***

You laughed as Richard called you just as you were sat at the airport gate, waiting to board your United Airlines flight to JFK airport. “Are you sure you’re boarding this time?” he asked, chuckling. Then two minutes later into the conversation he playfully interrupted you and asked again.

“Oh, shut up, you daft idiot,” you laughed back at him. The tension and frustration that had lain between you both the last couple of weeks had dissipated, leaving peace, happiness and excitement in its place. Your interaction with Richard had become what it once was: playful banter, heart to heart conversations and philosophical debate. Usually the philosophical debate came from a book that Richard had been reading, and you had no idea what he was talking about, but would try your best to keep up.

Suddenly a voice came over the tannoy. “Welcome to this United, non-stop flight to JFK International Airport. All business passengers and Star Alliance card holders are now welcome to board.”

“Boarding is starting,” you told Richard. “I should land at around two, and hopefully the queue through border control will be quick.”

“I can’t wait to see you,” he replied with a sigh. “I love you. Safe journey, angel. I’ll be waiting in arrivals for you.”

“I love you, too,” you told him, meaning each word.

The flight seemed so long, so much longer than seven hours. However, this was only your second ever flight. Normally Richard came to you in London, and the only other time you had flown was when you had gone on holiday to Spain in your teens with your parents, and hated every minute of it. The take off was the exiting part but once you were in the air, you felt the tension in your muscles at every tiny bump. The loud sound of the engines did not ease your nerves either. The landing was even worse; you braced yourself for the whole descent, feeling as if you were crashing.

Finally you were on the ground and you saw the terminal. You followed everyone out, holding your large weekender bag with your valuables in. The sights and sounds were completely alien to you, but the thought of being with Richard again meant that you didn’t concentrate on the new environment as much as you should have.

Immigration was swift despite the long queues; an officer asked you a couple of questions regarding your entry clearance which showed up against your passport. You gave Richard’s address where you would be staying, and explained you were coming to join your partner. Then you had your fingerprints taken. The officer stamped your passport, smiled, and allowed you to go.

Next you collected your large suitcase from the carousel and began your walk to the main arrivals area where friends, family and taxi drivers waited.

Your heart began to race and you felt the butterflies hit your stomach as you walked through the vast terminal towards the exit. You walked through the door, exhaling loudly, and then you saw him.

The butterflies flapped viciously and you laughed, dashing towards him. You never noticed the large bouquet of roses in his hand as he grabbed you tight and kissed you, not caring who was watching.

You looked at him for a couple of seconds and brushed your hand down his cheek, feeling his beard beneath your touch. “This is it, Rich. I’m yours,” you whispered.

Fin.

#Richard armitage #fanfiction #real person fanfiction #writing #final part #just to let go #Richard armitage x fem!reader #Richard armitage x you #Richard armitage x reader #Richard x reader #Richard x fem!reader #Richard x you

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sillyxkittyy · 5 years

Text

Paper Hearts || Chapter 1

Summary: TJ Kippen had never been one for expressing his feelings. When his English teacher asks him to write a poem about something he loves, he’s immediately filled with panic. However, he strangely finds the inspiration when he sees himself constantly thinking about a certain brown haired boy. Maybe writing about his emotions will make him realize how he truly feels about his best friend.

Word Count: 4250

Note: i finally got myself to write and publish this! an idea i’ve had at the back of my mind for months njshsgsgs and here it is! my first ever tyrus fic too hehe. it’s a long chapter, but i hope it’s worth it! <3

Here’s the link on AO3: x

~~~~~~~~~~

Tick, tick. Tick, tock. The clock was slowly moving its arrows through the numbers as the seconds went by. One second, then another, and another. How could TJ focus on his English class if the clock was basically the loudest thing in existence? He tapped his pencil against his desk as he tried to concentrate on what his teacher was saying. He’s always hated that teacher and he was honestly dreading any second passing by, because he knew that he would soon get an assignment and that he’d hate it. His mind kept wandering elsewhere, there was just so much going on in his head right now.

He shifted his gaze around the classroom, analyzing every poster on the walls, every student desperately trying to listen, every shuffling of papers. It seemed like the only times he needed to not get distracted, every little thing caught his attention. He looked back at the clock; exactly one minute had passed. It took him a lot not to groan out loud. It infuriated him how slowly time seemed to pass. How he just wanted this class to be over so he could leave and have lunch. He could feel his stomach twisting, seemingly begging for food. The taping of his pencil just got louder. With the hand that wasn’t holding the pencil, TJ opened his notebook, attempting to at least look like he was reviewing his notes, in case the teacher looked in his direction. He knew he could just ask his friends later to repeat the teacher’s words, but he still wanted to try and listen on his own. Today was not the right day, it seemed. As he went over his own handwriting, that people had always accused of being unreadable but that he still managed to understand, he spotted a small smiley face that had been drawn at the corner of his book, and he couldn’t help but smile at that. Cyrus has drawn that smiley that time they had studied together in TJ’s room. He clearly remembered that day; he had complained about English class, and how the recent assignments were basically killing his grades, and Cyrus had given him encouraging words while he drew that smiley. ‘That smiley is for hope. Whenever you feel down in English class, may it remind you that I believe in you’ he had told him. The words repeated in his head over and over. ‘I believe in you’ almost no one had ever said that to him. He’s always said that it didn’t bother him, and it didn’t, but getting told every once in a while felt nice, especially from Cyrus, though he’d never admit that out loud. He cherished both his friendship with him and all their moments together. He always felt at peace and comfortable whenever he was around Cyrus. He held onto what they had, because he didn’t know what he would do if the other boy were to leave him. That was his biggest fear, whenever they hung out; he was afraid that he’d mess up so bad one day that Cyrus wouldn’t want to talk to him anymore, and that he’d lose him for good. Of course, Cyrus wasn’t his only friend, but TJ did consider him as his best friend- even if the other maybe didn’t consider him as his. Cyrus was probably one of the only person ever who had never really been afraid of him. He was so used to having people fear him that when he first met him, he was certain that he would do the same. However, he never did. He never looked at him with disdain, he never treated him like a bad guy; he treated him like a normal human being, even if he was mean to Buffy. Cyrus was cautious and iffy at first, but he had soon become more confident around him, and had tried to be his friend. TJ didn’t know how or why that happened, but he was grateful for it, truly. There really was no one Cyrus wouldn’t give a chance to. It was the other boy’s optimism, and the fact the he still wasn’t giving up on him that had drawn TJ to him. And even though he would never admit out loud, he had gotten pretty attached to the smaller boy as well. He was a dork, yes, but he was kind, and compassionate, and he had the cutest smile. TJ would honestly do anything to see Cyrus’ smile, the way his nose crinkled, the way his eyes sparkled, and just simply knowing he was happy; it made him feel things he couldn’t describe.

He suddenly started shaking his head vigorously, snapping himself out of his thoughts. He really had to stop doing that, letting his mind wander to places it shouldn’t. It started off with a simple smiley, and now he was thinking about Cyrus’ smile. He hadn’t even realized that he was smiling fondly, and he immediately forced himself to stop when he did. He tried to ignore the growing burning feeling in his chest.

“Now, students” the teacher finally spoke, gaining practically everyone’s attention. TJ had never been so relieved to hear the teacher speak, although he was still dreading what was coming next. “I’m gonna stop talking to myself now” she said in a jokingly tone, chuckling a bit, because she definitely knew that no one was paying attention to her at this point. “... and I’m gonna announce the next assignment! I know you guys are dying to know what it is” TJ could practically feel the stressful atmosphere that was suddenly reigning in the classroom. It was as if every student had had the same thought, just praying it won’t be as bad as they thought it would be. The teacher seemed to know that all too well, because she paused, as to give dramatic effect.

“Your next assignment will be to write a poem!” She exclaimed and almost immediately, a collective groan could be heard in the class. She seemed to expecting that because she chuckled to herself again. Meanwhile, TJ would be lying if he said that he hadn’t joined in the groaning. If there was one thing he hated, it was poems. They were already boring to read, in his opinion so writing them would be a pain, he could already feel it. He didn’t want to write something where he had to be careful to make certain words rime, where he had to be meticulous with each sentence he used, and worst of all, he hated writing about his emotions. Already, he disliked talking about them, much less writing about them. He didn’t know what words to use to explain them, and he honestly didn’t think it was necessary for people to know exactly what’s going on in his head, or in his heart. Heck, sometimes, he didn’t know himself. He covered his head with his hands and lowered them towards the desk.

“Now, I am aware that these news absolutely thrill you, but I do not ask you to start it right away. However, I did want to at least mention it so you can start thinking about it, and know what’s to come. We’re going to work on that in class a bit, but I still want you to start to think about your subject” she finally said as the bell rang. A lot of students were quick to leave the classroom, while TJ slowly rose his head from the desk. He had the irresistible urge to bang his head against the table, but he resisted, judging it would just be unnecessary pain. He simply started distractingly shoving his books in his bag, groaning to himself. He wanted to forget about the assignment for now, but it seemed be the only thing he could think about. What would he even write about? He honestly had no clue, and it stressed him a lot more than he’d like to admit. What was he even passionate about? Basketball? No, he couldn’t write about that, everyone expected him to. He didn’t want people to think he was a one dimensional guy obsessed with basketball, because he was way more than that. Part of him wanted to surprise his peers, but the other part of him thought it would just be too much work. Sighing to himself, he finally took his bag and walked out of the classroom. As he made his way to his locker, he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering elsewhere. He was completely lost in his thoughts as he opened his locker door. TJ had his head inside when he suddenly felt someone wrap their arm around him. He lifted his head, only to see a familiar face with one of the prettiest smile. It was enough to lift his spirits a bit and a wide smile appeared on his face.

“Cy, hey!” He greeted Cyrus, who was still hugging him. The other boy pulled away and stood next to him, looking like he was jumping on the spot. He didn’t know why he was such in a good mood, but it was infectious. For a second, TJ almost forgot about his worries.

“Hey! How was your morning?” He had that twinkle in his eyes that TJ loved so much. He didn’t know if it was a common thing, or this only happened to Cyrus, but he treasured it dearly. It just made his eyes even more beautiful.

“It was alright.” He shrugged a bit, shuffling through his locker to trade some of his books. “Not too thrilled about the English assignment, though” he admitted with a slight grimace. Cyrus suddenly lit up at that.

“Oh, you’ve heard about that, huh? Everyone is complaining about it, but personally I’m excited” he really was too cute, talking like that. He would be able to make anyone happy about an important assignment with that smile. He also made it really hard for TJ not to be distracted. He turned to face him, rolling his eyes playfully.

“Well, not everyone had been blessed with good writing skills like you” he simply replied with a slight smile. He swore that the laughter that came out of Cyrus’ mouth could have killed him instantly, if it was possible. It didn’t matter how many times he’s heard it, each time, he felt like he would melt. Cyrus nudged him, and even if it didn’t hurt him, TJ couldn’t help but rub his arm.

“Oh, hush, you. My writing isn’t that good” the smaller boy scoffed as TJ closed his locker door. The two boys started to walk towards the cafeteria.

“Are you kidding? Your writing is amazing, Cy, dont say that” TJ gave him a small smile and he couldn’t tell if it was his imagination, or if Cyrus’ cheeks had suddenly taken a slightly darker tone.

“Aww, that’s sweet. Well, either way, I have plenty of ideas for the poem. I’ve even made a list” he glanced over at TJ. “Do you have any?” Just that question felt like a slap to the face, mainly because it reminded him why it stressed him so much. It kind of brought him back to the reality of his situation.

“Not... exactly? I uh- have thought about it a bit but nothing really inspires me” it was probably obvious how discouraged he was because Cyrus nudged him again, a reassuring smile on his face.

“Hey, you’ll find it, don’t worry. You’ll find your muse eventually, I’m sure of it. And if not, I can still help you.” TJ met his gaze, and he could feel his heartbeat accelerating for a reason he couldn’t explain. He gulped a bit and nodded before smiling.

“Thanks. You’re the best” they arrived in the cafeteria, and TJ went to go put himself in line to go get his food. To his surprise, Cyrus was following him still.

“Don’t you have a lunchbox?”

“Yeah, I do, but I still want to wait in line with you. I mean, if you don’t mind, of course” for the second time, TJ felt like his heartbeat was accelerating in his chest. He shoved his hands in his pockets, shrugging with a slight smile.

“No, of course I don’t mind” this made him happier than he could explain. Everything was always better with Cyrus around, and the wait would definitely seem shorter if he stayed. Suddenly, the other boy’s face lit up again, as if he had just remembered something.

“Hey, did you get your math test back? I heard a lot of people got theirs, and I’m curious” the look in his eyes showed such excitement, it took TJ everything not to smile. He attempted to show an upset expression.

“I did, actually... I only got...” he paused for a bit, and a frown appeared on Cyrus’ face. “... a B-“ he finished with a wide grin. If he could forever capture the way Cyrus’ facial expression changed at that moment, it would. It made his stomach feel all weird inside, but he tried to ignore that.

“A B-?! Oh my gosh, TJ!” Cyrus immediately squealed. A few people turned their head at the scream, but he didn’t seem to notice as he wrapped TJ in for a hug. It wasn’t a bro hug this time; it was an actual hug. He squeezed him tightly, and it took TJ by surprise at first, though he quickly got over that and hugged him back. He felt like he could melt in the spot. Some would be quick to call TJ tough, but here he was, completely melting after a hug. Cyrus pulled away a bit to look at him and smile.

“I’m so proud of you” he added softly, and TJ could’ve sworn that his heart had skipped a beat or two. Their faces were quite close, more than usual, and he caught himself staring for almost a split second, before he cleared his throat and blushed.

“T-thank you. That means a lot” it meant a lot more than he’d allow himself to say out loud, that was for sure. To him, it meant the entire world coming from Cyrus, as if his words had this magical effect on him. “Though it was mostly because of you helping me”

“No, it’s not! Sure, I may have helped, but you did the exam. You’re smart, you know. You should be proud” classic Cyrus, always finding the words to make him speechless for a few seconds. It flattered him so much to hear him talk so positively about him. TJ knew that his cheeks were darker now. For a second, it was like TJ had trouble finding his words and speak. He cleared his throat.

“You’re too kind, thank you” Cyrus grinned and nodded as he went back to standing next to him. “So that means you’re going to be there at Friday’s game?”

“Yup! I’m probably gonna start on the game” he managed to utter with a slight smile. He didn’t know why he was nervous all of a sudden.

“Great! I’m gonna be cheering you on from the bleachers. Louder than everyone else too. I’m definitely gonna stand out” he grinned widely. TJ just smiled a bit. ‘You could be the most silent person in the crowd, and you’d still stand out to me’ he caught himself thinking, but he quickly brushed that thought off. It was finally his turn to take his food, and he advanced, putting plates on his tray as Cyrus started rambling. He could honestly hear him talk for hours on end without getting tired of it, there was a way in which he spoke that was almost hypnotic. Cyrus often told him how he avoided to ramble because people tended to get annoyed or cut him off, but TJ had always assured him that he could do it at any time with him. It somehow relaxed him to hear him talk like that. Besides, Cyrus was always fascinating to listen to. TJ would do anything to see him as excited like that. He glanced over at him, and he had that sparkle in his eyes again. He was gesturing a lot, but it just made it look more charming. He stood in front of the cash register as he paid for his food. As they started to walk away, Cyrus suddenly stopped talking.

“Oh, sorry, I was rambling, wasn’t I?” He inquired, his shoulder lowering. TJ glanced over at him again, and nodded, though with a smile.

“Yeah, you were. But it’s okay, I like listening to you talk” that sentence seemed to take Cyrus by surprise, because his eyes widened.

“Really?”

“Yeah, really” he met Cyrus’ gaze and smiled wider. The small boy only returned his smile, playing with the straps of his lunchbox as he continued to walk.

“Aw, thank you. You’re probably the only one so... it means a lot” the look in Cyrus’ eyes softened, and TJ could feel that warm feeling in his stomach only growing even more. He almost felt sick, but somehow, it wasn’t unpleasant. He couldn’t even explain what he was feeling or why, and it was starting to bother him- and maybe worry him as well. He was the first one to gaze away as they arrived at their usual table. The rest of the gang was already there, with Buffy and Andi sitting on one side while Amber and Jonah sat on the other. Cyrus went to sit next to Buffy and TJ went to sit across him, next to Amber. Everyone started eagerly with each other, but TJ couldn’t bring himself to listen to any of the conversations. He just played with the food in his plate with his fork, completely out of it. No matter what he did, he couldn’t get rid of the knots in his stomach, or slow down his heartbeat. It was unbearable, and he wished he could just suppress his feelings, for once. He only gazed up when he heard Cyrus laugh. It truly was one of his favourite things in the world, and he caught himself smiling a bit. He was brought back to reality when he felt someone smack him on the arm. He whipped his head rubbing his arm.

“Hey, what the hell?” He glared at Amber, because even if he didn’t see her, there was no doubt that she was the one who had hit him. His twin sister simply chuckled.

“You had zoned out, I just brought you back to Earth, dork” she hit his arm again, and he rolled his eyes. He then noticed that everyone was looking at him.

“You okay, TJ? You barely touched your food” Jonah pointed out. TJ glanced down at his plate; it was practically full. He gave a small smile and nodded.

“Hmm, yeah, I’m fine. Just tired, is all” he brushed it off, and no one asked more questions. He knew that Amber wasn’t buying it, but she didn’t anything, for the moment. Meanwhile, Cyrus had a skeptic look on his face but he stayed quiet. TJ felt himself flush as he just sank in his chair. Time seemed to pass by slowly until the bell rang, announcing the end of lunch. Soon, he was back at his locker, trying to get his bag out. He still felt all weird and fuzzy inside, and he swore, it seemed to get worse by the second. He barely noticed that Cyrus had walked up to him was standing next to his locker.

“Hey” TJ almost jumped up when he heard his voice. He glanced up, and seeing him again, especially in that lightning, made his heart race. He looked down and tried to get his bag, who was now stuck, out.

“Hey” he wanted to come up with a more elaborate answer but he couldn’t. He felt like his heart was about to burst out of his chest. There was a silence, for a few seconds, in which TJ avoided to look up at Cyrus. Finally, the other boy spoke again.

“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” He expected that kind of answer, especially from Cyrus. He knew, the seconds he had seen his face at the table, earlier, that he hadn’t bought his excuse. He also knew, when he gazed over at him again, that he still hadn’t, and that he was maybe a bit concerned. TJ finally managed to pull his bag out of his locker and he stood up before putting in on his back.

“I know” he smiled softly. “And I’m grateful for that, really. It’s nothing to worry about, okay? I’m just tired and have a lot on my mind, no biggie” well, it wasn’t a lie, really. He just hadn’t specified what he was thinking about. Cyrus didn’t look reassured.

“But you didn’t eat”

“I wasn’t really hungry. Don’t worry, Amber will probably force me to eat later anyways” he chuckled at that, and Cyrus finally managed to smile. He nodded.

“Okay. I believe you then” he seemed a bit relieved. “I was a bit worried”

“I know you were” of course he was, it was Cyrus. He was always worried about others’ wellbeing. It was one of the things he liked best about him. “But I’m fine, I promise” or at least he hoped he was. TJ gave the other boy a smile, mirroring his expression. He took his math textbook and was about to close his locker when Cyrus stopped him.

“Oh, you added more pictures on your locker door!” He was practically squealing and TJ couldn’t help but smile. He had taken the habit of sticking a few pictures in his locker, just for fun. When he was having a bad day, he could just look at them and instantly feel better. He had a picture of himself with each of his friends, one picture of his sister alone, and an additional picture of him and Cyrus. The latter was probably what had caught Cyrus’ attention, because it wasn’t there before. TJ had found it accidentally in his things the other day, and it had made him so happy, he had hung it here.

“Yeah, I did. Thought you’d probably recognize them.” The smile on his face grew fond as he observed Cyrus’ reaction. A grin appeared on the other boy’s face.

“Oh my gosh, it’s a picture of that time we went to the arcade and I beat you at that basketball game!” He remembered that day all too well; it was like engraved in his memory. He and Cyrus often went out to hang out, sometimes with the others, sometimes just the two of them. They had gone to the arcade, and TJ had challenged Cyrus to play a basketball mini game. ‘That’s unfair! You’re definitely gonna win’ Cyrus had whined. Turned out, he hadn’t, which had taken the other boy by surprise. TJ hadn’t even let him win; he had just been distracted. He remembered how he couldn’t keep his focus on the ball, and how he kept stealing glances at Cyrus. Plus, he’d always miss his shots whenever Cyrus would laugh when he would miss his own shots, or whenever he would encourage him. It was a bit frustrating, to say the least, not because he was embarrassed that Cyrus had beat him, but because he knew he could’ve done better than that. However, Cyrus’ proud grin that and his excitement each time he mentioned it made it all worth it.

“Yeah, yeah it is. You beat me fair and square. It was fun” he chuckled slightly. “And it got me to prove that you’re not as bad as you think as basketball”

“Oh hush” Cyrus shook his head. “I wasn’t that good”

“Well, you did beat the captain of the basketball team, so I’d say you’re pretty good” TJ grinned at that, and Cyrus laughed a bit.

“Alright, alright, maybe you’re right. We should have a rematch one day- you know, you can get your chance to beat me” he crossed his arms amusingly, smiling brightly. TJ just stared at him distractingly, nodding.

“Yeah, yeah, we definitely should” there is was again, that weird feeling he couldn’t explain. That feeling that made him feel safe, but frightened him at the same time. That feeling that he only seemed to have around Cyrus. That feeling that he had tried so hard to get rid, but in vain. He felt like he would get lost in Cyrus’ eyes, but he didn’t allow himself to, and he gazed away. He wished he could just forget he was feeling anything. He cleared his throat, willing to change the subject before he did or said anything he would regret. Cyrus beat him to it, though.

“Hey, do you want to come with me to my History class? My teacher wants to talk to me and I don’t want to go alone” he admitted sheepishly, laughing awkwardly. TJ looked up at him, but he avoided his gaze.

“Sure” he couldn’t formulate a better answer than that, even if he wanted to. They started walking, and all TJ could do was grip at his math book tightly. So many thoughts went through his head, and his heart was going crazy, especially right now, so close to Cyrus, who’s shoulder kept brushing against his. He didn’t quite know what was happening with him, but he did know that, one way or another, he was definitely screwed.

#andi mack #tyrus #my writing #paper hearts #andi mack fic #i finally did it!! i’m so proud!

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b0blegum · 6 years

Text

Game On (a request)

Author: b0blegum

Pairing: Monsta X x Reader (or more to Minhyuk x Reader too)

Rating: PG!

WARNING: Bullying

Genre: fluff?

Status: more than 1 part possible

Okay, it is a requested fic. I was at first really confused on how to make a bullying story, so again, i changed plot more than five times lmao and ended up with this one, which i think the most proper to be published.

And since i already write the trigger warning for this fic, i hope those who are underage and easily triggered with any forms of bullying will scroll this post through and enjoy yourself looking at silly videos or photos of our boys, Monsta X.

Hope you like it!

“You okay?” The blonde haired guy on the screen worriedly asked when he noticed something in your upper arms.

“Of– course. Why did you even ask, Hyukkie?” You awkwardly laughed. Not to him, but to yourself.

“That. I saw… your upper arm. That’s not you experimenting with make up again, isn’t it?” He brought his face closer to the camera.

“N–o. Why would I put make up on my arm, you silly?” Subtly, you tried to hide the blueish-purple mark he meant by rubbing it.

“Well, you did do that on your thigh, once.” He answered quickly.

“That’s for halloween, for God’s sake, Minhyuk.”

“Whoa– no need to be angry, (y/n)! I’m just saying.” He chuckled. “I remembered. Completely that it was for halloween, even though you ended up staying at the dorm, right?” You rolled your eyes at him and flattened your lips.

“Yes.” You answered lazily. “Oh, by the way, Minhyuk. Can we talk again later? I am soo hungry that I really need to eat something.”

“What time is it there?” The blonde looked like he’s looking at the small numbers on the upper right side of his laptop. “Here’s 1 pm so there must be–“

“Eight.” You saw him your cute Gudetama bedside clock. “How many time do I have to say this, Grandpa? I am 17 hours behind. I am from the past. You’re from the future.” You joked.

“Stop calling me grandpa, will you!” He scoffed. “You’re the one who always forgot about everything, including my birthday, which I have it every year.” He teased.

“Whatever, Minhyuk.” Rolling your eyes, you lowered the screen a bit. “Alright. I really have to go. Bye for now?”

“Bye, (y/n). I miss you!” The boy smiled brightly, but you just replied him with a short by before closing your laptop screen.

Sighing deeply, you looked at the reflection of yourself on the mirror you placed next to the door. A horrible mark that was too visible to anyone not to notice, took your attention.

“Concealer won’t help anymore.” You lulled your head back as you rubbed the still stinging bruise.

Breaking the silence in your dorm room, your phone vibrated. It was a text from your bestest best-friend, Lee Minhyuk. The blonde guy who just hung up on you on Skype.

What’re you cooking? Suddenly I feel hungry… but Kihyun is not home L

You closed your eyes for a couple of second, leaving the chat unreplied before you scrolled through your photos, looking for an old cooking picture to send it to him.

[PIC_1312]

There u go. The usual. The quickest. Because I have group meeting in an hour.

The chat was immediately read by him and in no second, a new chat is coming in.

Again?? Are you not fed up eating spaghetti?? Don’t you have side dishes in your fridge?? Meat?? Don’t you miss korean food??

Yes. Yes you do miss korean food. Yes you do want to eat foods from the place you spent years of your childhood in, but it’s just you’re either too tired to cook them or just too busy with college’s assignments.

Ignoring Minhyuk’s chat. You limped onto your bed and about to curled into a cocoon under your fluffy blanket when a loud knocking sound startled you.

“God.” You clenched your fist. Already know who was coming.

“I know you’re in there. Open up quick, turtle!” You sighed hearing her shrill voice.

“On my way.” You whispered. You didn’t want to shout back, because if that happened, the bruises is not going to be visible in your arm and legs, but also some other place on your body.

Opening the door, you tried to look as strong as you could. As if you didn’t have a tennis ball sized of bruises.

“I ran out of foods and my friends will be coming over tonight.” The girl who shared the same hometown with you looked at you intensely into your eyes. “I need 50 dollars.”

“Fifty?” Your eyes widened as you involuntarily let out a word from your mouth.

“Come on. Clock is ticking and I am waiting. You know I hate waiting and I know you know what will happen if you keep me waiting.” She leaned on the door frame with her arms crossed on her chest.

Biting your lower lip, you turned around to find your wallet.

There was only one bill left in it. Two twenty dollar bills and a ten dollar bill. “This is what I have left for this month.” You whispered.

Walked back to the door, you put a pitiful expression. “I ran out of money. Sorry.”

The girl scoffed and shook her head. “You know what I hate more than waiting?” she waited for your silent answer. “A liar.”

She barged into your room and began to looking for the thing she wanted. She walked straight to your desk, where she saw your wallet and immediately looked inside. “Oh, yes! You really don’t have money, do you?” She pulled out your last 50 dollars and threw your wallet.

“Pl–ease! That’s my last 50 dollars! Please, I don’t have anymore money, i’m begging you!” You began to cry, when she immediately shut you up by covering your mouth.

“Shut up! Don’t be so loud, you moron!” She said in a low voice, uncovered your mouth.

“Please–“ you kneeled down and keep begging at her.

“I’m saving for a trip to Vegas, because my dad won’t lend me the money. So, I keep all my allowance and i’m still taking this.” She stepped forward before she turned around and lowered yourself to the same level with you. “And this is for a liar.” Without mercy, she slapped your cheek, leaving a prominent red mark that made you squinted your eye due to the stinging feels. “Thanks, bitch!”

You dragged yourself, leaning to the nearest wall behind you, sobbing while covering the still red mark on your face.

This was not the first time she did this kind of thing to you. This happened since a year ago. Ever since you accidentally spilled some curry sauce on her t-shirt. But later you knew it was not the sauce on her t-shirt that made her mad, but coincidentally, she got dumped by her boyfriend and that day was actually her birthday, so… she just need a place to let out her anger and there was suddenly the unlucky you, tripped with your own shoelace and spilled some sauce. Fortunately, this girl you spilled the sauce on was hell popular, since her dad is running on entertainment business and she often hung out with lots of celebrities and you, unfortunately just a girl who left your hometown to get a better education, but didn’t manage to made lots of friends because of how how shy you are around new people. So, the girl successfully took advantage of that and made you as miserable as ever.

Your room was dark. Yes— you intentionally did that. You just wanted to be in a complete silence for awhile while sobbing under your blanket and thinking what did you do to deserve all this bullying.

You always were shy in back in those school days where you were still in Korea, but no one really bullied you— well, now you thought it was because Minhyuk was always there to stepped up in front of you and that he always was a cheerful mischievous little boy, so anyone would want to become friends with him. But now that he was miles away and was a popular kpop group member, you know he can’t always be there for you anymore.

Your phone vibrated, breaking the silence between you and you. Grabbing your phone, you looked at the screen.

Hyukkie

6 Missed Call

You got 10 texts from Hyukkie

Quickly you turned off your phone and put it back on your nightstand.

Lying to him was better than telling things that have happened since you moved to the dorm and started college. You just didn’t want him to worry and want him to only focus on his work.

Days passed. Yes, you passed the rest of the month with the money you found between the pages of your book. It’s only 20 dollars but enough to fed you for two weeks by buying cheap instant noodles.

Joey, the korean-american girl who bullied you, didn’t show up at your dorm nor bullied you at campus, you didn’t know why, but that was rarely happened.

Throwing your books on the bed, you sat on your desk, flipping the screen of your laptop.

Just as soon as your Skype status turned into Available, an incoming call is up.

“Hiiiiiii!” It’s the blonde guy again.

“You’re at the company?” You asked, noticing the background. It was the practice room.

“A simple hi would do, but yeah, i’m at the company. We just finished rehearsing.” He threw himself on the couch and made himself comfortable.

“You must be tired.” You nodded.

“I am.” He put one arm behind his head. “(Y/n), actually there’s something I need to tell you.”

“And… what is that? You looked serious, i’m scared.” You chuckled.

“You know I have a month worth of free time until we begin again preparing for comeback,”

“Yes and?”

“Well, Jooheon told me that we should go to LA,”

“Seriously? Are you guys really going?” You became pretty excited and suddenly you heard Jooheon singing at the back, something that has the word LA in it.

“We… bought the tickets and—“

“Oh my God! When?” You almost jumped out of your chair from this great news.

“Uhm… tomorrow.”

“You must be kidding me. Why so suddenly?” Your eyes widened at this another unexpected surprise.

“Because we missed hanging out with you and want to see you really soon!”

“Ugh, so cheesy.” You rolled your eyes.

“Unnie, i miss you so much!” The youngest stole Minhyuk’s phone and started acting cute. Yes, he always called you unnie because you told him once that he was like a sister to you.

“I miss you too, sis. Oh my God are you guys really coming?”

“Is that I.M I see on the screen?” A girly voice startled you that made you quickly force closed your laptop.

Turning back, you’re just as shock as the girl who stood at your wide opened door. “E—h,”

“Was that I.M? Do you know them? Personally?” She walked in, eyes locked on your now closed laptop.

“They– uh it wasn’t him. I don’t— you know I.M?” You curiously asked.

Joey shook her head subtly, “Wait, so that really was I.M? From Monsta X?” She asked again. “You know them?”

“Joey, I need you to get out of my room, please.” You said. Hiding your laptop behind you. You never said more than a word to her before and this was the first time you did it. Right after you finished the sentence, you remembered that she’d be mad and started to bully you again.

“Wait, hold on. Just tell me the truth. You do or do not know Monsta X, personally?” She asked again, emphasizing the last word.

Both of you were silent for couple of seconds before you finally nodding slowly.

“Holy shit!” She held her own head, as if it was going to burst anytime soon. “I should tell the girls. Oh my God!”

She repeated Oh My God multiple times, while you just stood before her, looking at her in surprise, when suddenly, the idea popped up in your head.

“Jo, you do know Monsta X?” You carefully asked.

“Of course! They’re like the hottest boygroup nowadays, duh?”

“They’re coming to LA tomorrow.” You smirked, already sure that your idea will be a success. Joey’s eyes widened as if it was about to popped out of its sockets.

“Are you kidding me?”

“I’m just as surprised as you are, but I can make you meet them.”

“Holy fuck.” She covered her mouth. “How? Oh my God.”

“But you need to do one thing in return.”

“Yes, of course. Anything, you name it, i’ll give it.”

“Stop bullying me.”

Joey suddenly stop squealing and raised one of her eyebrow.

“That, I cannot do.” She turned into her usual self in less than a second. “You deserved to be bullied, excuse me, miss.” She turned around quickly and immediately left your room.

You were left in disbelief. You were wrong when you thought giving her a free pass to meet Monsta X would stop her from bullying you.

“Ugh, I hate my life!” You slammed the door before you jumped onto your bed.

Hyukkie, i’m sorry something came up. I had to go, so I hung up.

You replied his text that was received ten minutes ago, right after you roughly flipped down the screen.

Alrighty, we know you’re busy with college, (y/n) ;)

Oh, anywayyyyyyyyy

[PIC_5621]

WE’RE DONE PACKING! Can’t wait to see you!

You smiled as you look at the picture he sent you. Seven luggages ready to be carried far away from South Korea.

I’m stoked! See you boys!

p.s don’t forget to tell Changkyun to bring his milk. Baby should have enough milk on board

You hit the send button.

“It was 5 PM, the boys should’ve arrived already three hours earlier, but why none of them were replying to my texts?” You tapped your phone screen, waiting for at least one of them reply to your text when suddenly, one text did appear.

(Y/n)! Come down! We’re waiting at the bench near the entrance door.

It was from Minhyuk. Finally.

Entrance door?

You squinted your eyes.

Your dorm! We’re down here. Come on!

In just a second after you read his text, you grabbed your jacket and rushing down. And yes, seven beautiful boys whom you really missed were there.

“Hey, boys.” You greeted them with a big smile plastered on your face. All of them greeted you back and immediately gave you a hug one by one. “How’s the flight?”

“As always. Tiring.” Wonho fixed his beanie.

“By the way, (y/n), why did you never tell us that you have such cool friends?” Jooheon put his arm around your neck.

“Friends?” You repeated.

“Cool and beautiful.” Hyungwon added. “Speaking of the angels itself…” He shot his eyes passed you. Turning around, you were more than surprised to see who was walking.

“Sorry, to keep you waiting. There was line, so…” Joey smiled to all of the boys. “There you go.” She and her friends immediately gave them a refreshing americano. “Oh, (y/n). You’re finally here!” She hanged her arm around your neck. “Where were you? I tried knocking on your door.”

“U– uh,” you startled.

“Anyway, have you guys had lunch? I mean proper lunch, because I know airplane foods suck.” Joey took a step closer to the boys.

“Well, funny because we were about to ask you guys to join us and (y/n) for lunch,” Shownu collu answered. “So are you guys free?”

Joey looked at her friends, she was deadass smiling so bright, but was clever enough to change into a normal one.

“Of course we are plus, we know some good restaurants around here. So why don’t we go right now?” Joey led. Everyone was smiling, excited to explore LA without having a tour the next day.

“(Y/n),” Joey walked back to you. “You told me if you meet me with them, I have to stop bullying you, right? So why don’t we make another deal?”

“What is it?”

“Whoever stole their heart, is winning. If I win, I won’t stop bully you, but if you win, well, you got what you always wanted.”

You replied with a silence.

Winning their hearts? Is she kidding? I mean, I am friends with them for years. Is she killing herself?

“Deal.” You answered confidently.

“Well then,” she smirked. “Game on.”

#monsta x #monsta x fic #monsta x fanfics #monsta x fanfic #monsta x fanfictions #monsta x fanfiction #shownu #wonho #kihyun #jooheon #minhyuk #hyungwon #changkyun #i.m #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfictions

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pendragonfics · 7 years

Text

Ninety-Ninth

Paring: Steve Rogers/Reader

Tags: female reader, female pronouns, receptionist reader, Fourth of July, basically a Steve birthday fic nobody requested and I wrote anyways, fluff.

Summary: It's one day until the fourth day of July, and that means two things. America turns red, white and blue, and your boyfriend Steve Rogers celebrates his birthday.

Word Count: 1,700

Current Date: 2017-07-04

To say that you’d been planning this ahead of time was an understatement. When Sharon told you that she’d heard that Steve didn’t like celebrating his birthday, you made sure to get in there and do it. Namely, do it right. As a receptionist, you had superpowers of your own – to sense when people were thinking of doing things even before they did them, your customer service voice that could divert even the angriest of people from their sinister plans. Working behind a desk was your life, but since moving in with the Captain America, he’d become that title. Apart from all the press on every detail of your lives, and the worry of being targets from enemies of the state/Avengers, it was a daydream come true.

But back to what really matters. Planning the perfect birthday…for months. But it was the day before, and still zilch.

You’d heard from Vision that Steve preferred not to be around loud noises (observing people happened to be a habit of the android he’d never shaken off from his days as JARVIS), and Tony mentioned once over brunch with Pepper that if Steve could go anywhere for his birthday than the Smithsonian he’d buy out a local charity and donate a million dollars to it too. So, that was your plan: no loud noises. No Smithsonian. No lavish things that would make America’s golden boy shy away and disappear into the night.

But it still didn’t give you many options. It left you staring at your notepad beside the computer at your desk at Stark Tower, frowning over how many times you’d scribbled out the things that you’d ruminated, and then redacted.

“Looks like whatever’s causing that is giving you a headache,” Natasha gives a small smile, and peers over the desk to see your notepad. “Good. It’s not a phone. I would’ve asked if you were having relationship troubles, but it’s more like…Ferris wheel?” The redheaded assassin frowns too. “What are you using that for?”

You shake your head. “Birthday ideas.”

“Ah,” She nods knowingly. “That backfired on me too. I planned the party in ’12, he hated it. Of course, everyone was Ukrainian, or didn’t speak English.” She laughs, recalling it. “Made for an awkward taxi ride home.”

“Well, I’ll be sure not to take him to any restaurants like that,” you make a note.

Natasha shakes her head. “Oh no, it wasn’t a restaurant. It was at an old friend’s house.”

Saving the day, Dr Bruce Banner enters the foyer, with files in his hands. He often came down with important things to send away to science journal publishers, or letters for his long-distance fiancé Betty in Virginia. When he wasn’t being green on missions with your Steve, or hidden away in his lab, he often had afternoon tea with you. He never failed to bring a new exotic tea to share.

“Dr Banner!” you grin, standing to accept the parcel he holds. “If you were turning ninety-nine, and didn’t like to celebrate it, what you do to celebrate?”

The scientist frowns, but hands you the files. Pausing, he runs a hand through his curls, and widens his eyes. Struck with an idea, he blurts, “When Betty didn’t want to make a big deal about the big three-oh, I bought a bottle of champagne, a rent-a-movie, but we only watched half of The Great Gatsby when power cut off.”

Natasha laughs. “Only because you forgot pay.”

Bruce shakes his head. “Only because I’d been away on a mission for almost a month! You can’t just call up the power company when you’re undercover in southern Mongolia.”

You nod, considering it. “Might pay my power bill, but that’s worthwhile. Thank you, Dr Banner.”

At this, FRIDAY alerts you on incoming people to Stark Tower. While it’s wonderful having an Avengers base in upstate New York (yes, it was confidential material, and yes, you were in on the know), it was nice being located where you could walk five minutes and buy a coffee, or ten and be home in your studio apartment. But your Irish-lilted AI (and quite frankly, a rival for the position of receptionist when you were rendered useless) alerted you of arrivals, and at this, you shoved the notepad under the desk, away in the draw.

“Hey there, Shellhead, Capsicle,” she greets, smirking.

Tony rolls his eyes. “It’s normal if I nickname everything I touch, but with you, it’s plain mean, Widow.” He walks up to her, punching her arm playfully. He’s a great man, Mr. Stark. Quite frankly, the man is slightly misunderstood, needs a good night’s sleep, and less access to alcohol than he has. But you’re not his mother. “_______! How’s my favourite paper-pusher?”

You shake your head at the title, “I’m your only paper-pusher.” Beside him, Steve stands there, hands in pockets. You wonder if Tony has just dragged him around New York while he looks at cufflinks or something, because he looked kind of down. “You still on for our lunch plans, Steve?” you ask him.

He nods. “Sure thing.”

---

When lunch comes around (which takes too long a time from when you last spoke to Steve) you have your food in your lunch bag, brought from home, and head up to the roof level. Tony only allowed the both of you to eat up there when he realised it was the chance to play matchmaker, back when the both of you were just strangers to one another who seemed to get their blush on when near one another. Stark was yet to rescind that privilege, and you both took advantage of it. Eating in a fancy restaurant? Anyone could do that with their boyfriend. But eating on the roof of the Stark Tower? Fan-friggin’-tastic.

“Any talk in your office?” Steve wonders, sitting down on your usual bench. He’s got a sandwich, probably bought at the deli down the way.

You shake your head, but then remember, “The old delivery guy, Stan has been replaced. I think his daughter just gave birth, and he’s off to New Jersey to meet his grandson.”

Steve nods. “That’s nice. I’ll be sure to tell him congratulations when I see him next time.”

Unwrapping your lunch, you nod, and add, “What about you? What’s the gossip with the Avengers?” You take a bite of your homemade burrito, and add, “Nothing confidential. I don’t want to be fired.”

Steve laughs, shuffling closer to you on the bench so your shoulders touch. “I taught Thor and Bucky how the icemaker worked, but it ended up with Buck just putting vodka in it.” He chuckles. “I don’t think any of the people who’ve had ice in the last day can drive for at least a week.”

You snort, almost spluttering your burrito onto the floor. “Oh gosh! That backfired!”

Steve grins. “It’s okay. I might have had something to do with it.”

Nuzzling your head into his side to hide your smile, you laugh at that remark. Of course, he did. Everyone believed that Steven Grant Rogers was an angel wrapped up in a flag and American ideals. He sure as hell wasn’t. He liked to ride his motorcycle fast, and ignore orders from Fury, and most of all, stand up when people could not for themselves. If anything about the current politics was anything to say for itself, he would fight everyone until there was equality for everyone. It was a good thing you had Pepper and S.H.I.E.L.D. alter his itinerary many times to avoid The White House.

“You coming to mine for dinner tonight?” You ask Steve.

He nods, looking from the New York City skyline to you with the same look in his eyes one might have if at the Grand Canyon for the first time. “Sure. You’re cooking, or me?”

You consider it. “I was thinking takeout. How do you feel about pizza?”

Steve beams. “Won’t miss it for the world.”

---

Dinner goes well, and so does desert (some frozen yoghurt you had stashed in the back of your freezer) and you’re asleep by nine, snuggled together on the bed watching one of those movies the TV channels plays by random. But when daybreak breaks over the city, the alarm clock, still set to go off at 7:00AM sharp, plays the daily news broadcast.

“Goo-ood morning New York! It’s me, Ralph, here with Sammi for a fantastic, fine Fourth of July Tuesday here in New York. It’s going to be a great day of 73, I can tell you – with highs of 83, and some cloud. Here’s Sam for the news update –,” before Ralph can go on, you slap your hand over the alarm, and turn to face Steve.

His eyes are fluttering open, showing the baby-blues that you love so dearly. “Morning,” you whisper, leaning across the sheets close enough to see the few freckles on his skin. “Happy birthday, Stevie.”

A small smile stretches on his face, remembering what the date was. “Happy birthday, America,” he whispers back, his arms moving to hold you against his bare, warm chest. “I’d bet you’ve got something planned for me today. I saw you talking with Sharon.”

“I talked to a lot of people,” you shake your head, and add, “But no. No plans. It’s all up to you, Mr. America.” You kiss him on the tip of his nose, and then on the cheek. “Unless your plans are to stay in bed and snuggle a while.”

Steve grins, and holds you tighter. “Sounds like I’m going with that plan, doll.”

You smile, sighing into his chest. To say that you’d been planning this ahead of time was an understatement; it’s been in the works for ages. But when it came to it, it wasn’t just a date. It wasn’t just a birthday. It was Steve’s birthday, and if asked, you’d say that Steve was your world. For sure. And how he spent his birthday was completely, and utterly up to him.

“I love you,” he grins, going to kiss your cheek.

“I love you too,” you smile, and move your head so he catches your lips instead.

#steve rogers #steven grant rogers #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers/reader #captain america x reader #captain america fanfic #marvel x reader #marvel fanfic #avengers #avengers x reader #chaotic--lovely #pendragonfics #Female reader

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