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sevenkittensinatrenchcoat · 3 years

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Cats 1986 (and Others) vs. 2016

A post I made a few months ago comparing information gathered from interviews with different Cats casts has come up again recently and I’ve heard even more interviews since, so I want to add on to that a little and elaborate on the things I’ve already said.

CW: Some of the language regarding Demeter’s backstory is a bit darker than I’ve previously mentioned

So, I’ve now heard interviews from US Tours III, IV, and V, spanning from 1986 to 2012. They’re all Broadway-based, and the Broadway Revival went in a very different direction, but the three tours were all very similar to each other.

In both the tours and in 2016, the cast was sat down before rehearsals to hear the “story of Cats”. However, this meant two completely different things. The Tour casts were told the plot of the show, who their characters were and what they were meant to be doing. The 2016 was told the story of how the show Cats was created, how ALW had the idea and made a show out of it. No mention of the story and characters. This means that the Tour casts were given useful information for building their characters, while the 2016 cast got something that was interesting but did nothing to help them do their jobs in the present. More emphasis was put on the show’s legacy than on how to actually perform it. Trevor Nunn did the 2016 explaining, I believe, and it sounds like he was on an ego trip, talking about what he did instead of what the cast was supposed to do. Trevor Nunn is one of the few people who knows how the show works, so this is quite frustrating.

Though the Tour cast was given a whole story, most of them only remembered the perspectives of their own characters. The point of learning the plot was so that they knew what they were doing. It wasn’t supposed to matter to the audience. So, everyone mainly focused on their own jobs. But, everyone knew Demeter’s backstory, because it was the first thing they were told and it caught their attention. It almost became a meme that the first sentence of the plot was “Demeter was raped by Macavity”.

The story begins with Demeter having just escaped from Macavity. He kidnapped and raped her. Though she didn’t want it, she kind of enjoyed the sex, which messed with her head quite a bit. Bomba went through the exact same thing, but because she enjoyed it, she acts like the whole thing was nothing more than an annoyance. The two react to the same situation in different ways.

Jacob Brent was either given a toned down version of the story (he mentions kidnapping, but not rape), or he chose to give a toned down version to avoid the uncomfortable subject.

The 2016 knew that Macavity and Demeter had some sort of backstory, but they weren’t very clear on exactly what happened. They decided that they’d had an abusive relationship, but that the whole thing was consensual and there was no kidnapping, because the only element of this story that the audience can pick up without context is that there was some sort of sexual relationship between Macavity and Demeter, but she’s now afraid of him.

At least one cast member said that Macavity was a rapist, but she didn’t elaborate.

This messed with Demeter’s character far more than anyone expected. The rape element honestly isn’t necessary. Demeter and Macavity had some sort of sex, but it could’ve been consensual, with Demeter enjoying the sex but hating the man. That’s actually what Gillian Lynne seemed to have implied in interviews. However, the kidnapping part of the backstory is important, because it establishes the connection between Demeter and Grizabella. While hiding from Macavity, right before the story begins, Demeter sees Grizabella on the Bad Side of Town. Due to not being a Jellicle before this night, she doesn’t know who she is, and therefore has no bias against her. She just sees this woman living on the streets, humans wondering aloud why she isn’t dead, and felt sympathy for her.

So, when Grizabella appears at the ball and everyone hates her, Demeter wants to intervene, but she doesn’t want to upset her new friends. She came to the Jellicles for protection and is afraid of them rejecting her for siding with their enemy. Still, she tells the tribe what she knows about Griz, possibly trying to convince them to be nicer to her, but it doesn’t work and Demeter just starts following the crowd.

The lyrics Demeter sings, by themselves, are musical exposition that doesn’t imply sympathy. A line like “You’d really have thought she’d ought to be dead” sounds like it could be played as an insult. The words can either mean “I’m surprising the poor thing’s still alive in her condition” or “Why can’t the bitch fuck off and die already?”. Without the context of Demeter’s backstory, Kim Faure picked the latter, when with the context, it’s clearly meant to be the former. So, Demeter’s delivery of her lines in Glamour Cat in 2016 is venomous, almost sadistic.

Later on, towards the end of act one, 2016 Demeter reaches out to Grizabella like she does in most other versions, despite the earlier delivery. What made her change gears? I have no idea.

So, there was a lot of insight on Demeter. She’s the character with the most detailed backstory, making her the closest thing the show has to a protagonist.

Another character that gets a lot of attention, as he demands, is Tugger. Many Tugger actors were interviewed. I think he’s the favorite character of the host of the podcast. Different Tuggers from different eras responded to certain topics differently. Tuggers from the 1980s were unaware that Tugger was commonly interpreted as Not Straight and that Tuggoffelees is a thing. But, the more recent the show their from, the more they’re aware of and interested in the topic. The Tour V Tugger joined very late, during the last few years of the tour. He had access to the internet and could see what the fandom was up to. He played Tugger as ambiguously bi and, though he hadn’t thought of it at the time, liked the idea of the Tuggoffelees pairing. Tyler Hanes, 2016 Tugger, was the only one interviewed who played Tuggoffelees on purpose.

Tyler Hanes was very interesting. He watched the 1998 film while preparing for the role and didn’t seem to like it very much. He wanted his version of Tugger to be his own and avoided taking inspiration from any other version. John Partridge’s Tugger and Hanes’ Tugger being so different from each other might’ve been deliberate.

But, the choreography is what really messed with Tugger’s character. The host of the podcast mentioned Tugger’s pelvic thrusts and Hanes said that he wanted to do that sort of thing, but the new choreography removed all of it. He couldn’t make Tugger as horny or sexy as he wanted to. It was a key part of the character, but the choreography just wouldn’t let it happen. The result is that a bunch of queens fangirl over Tugger, but because Tugger’s defining trait in his number is being vain and obnoxious, the reason why he, of all toms, is considering the sexiest is completely lost. He’s just a dick to everyone (except Misto) and they love him anyway.

Other Tuggers do act like assholes during the number, but it’s not the focus. The lyrics are about Tugger being difficult, but the choreography, often to a comedic degree, isn’t about that. The message of Lynne’s choreography is that DESPITE Tugger being obnoxious, he’s a sex god and that’s what matters to his fans. Blankenbuehlers’s choreography mainly focuses on Tugger being obnoxious, which is a better match to the lyrics, but it makes the character less likable.

Also, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: The two most sexualized numbers are Tugger’s and Macavity’s. Tugger’s number is about a man being sexy. Macavity’s number has two women being sexy. Blankenbuehler redid Tugger’s number, toning down the sexuality, but he left Macavity alone completely, so it’s as sexual as it always is. Male sexuality needs to be toned down, but female sexuality is fine. This is what happens when a woman is replaced with a straight dude. I doubt it was done on purpose, but there was definitely some subconscious bias going on there.

The way the casts talk about the two choreographers is also different. Both of them are treated as the experts on the show, more like how a director is normally treated. But, how well they filled that role varied. Lynne could explain what every single move meant. Those who worked with her knew exactly what they were doing. Nobody has ever described any of Blankenbuehler’s choreography with the same detail. In numbers in 2016 that Blankenbuehler left alone, even without Lynne present at all, everything was clearly explained. Skimble actors, since Skimble’s number wasn’t altered much, describe people who’d worked with Lynne talking them through the choreography. No one talked about Blankenbuehler’s work like that. Every move of Lynne’s Jellicle Ball apparently represented something. Blankenbuehler’s Jellicle Ball looks fine, but there isn’t that level of detail.

The rehearsals of the the choreography were paced differently as well. 2016 was apparently put together in something of a hurry. Most Cats rehearsals begin with several days of the cast studying cats and learning how to move like them. 2016 devoted only a few hours to this. Gillian Lynne reportedly visited a rehearsal and was upset the none of the dancers knew how to move like cats. Cats has unique choreography in a unique cat-like style, but the 2016 team had no time to practice it, so they often come across as a bit too human. They’re talented human dancers, but they’re not very cat-like. Blankenbuehler’s choreography is often in a different, more modern urban style, that doesn’t seem like it was done with cat-like movement in mind.

I don’t hate Blankenbuehler. In behind the scenes stuff, he seems like a nice guy that the team liked working with. But, I don’t think he really understood what his role was. He was a choreographer and he did choreography. This would’ve been fine, even great for any other show, but not Cats.

Most modern musical theatre is based on opera. Characters sing about their feelings and that tells the story. The added element of dance takes the feelings of the song and amplifies them. The actors are emoting with their entire bodies in a larger-than-life way that creates an emotional intensity that audiences can empathize with. The music makes the audience feel what the characters are feeling in a way nothing else really can. Music is kind of magical. You hear a certain melody with certain instruments, and suddenly you’re happy, or sad, or angry.

This, by the way, is why going for realism in musicals is a terrible idea. Musicals don’t exist in physical reality. They exist on an emotional level that realism takes away from.

Cats rarely works like opera. The lyrics are mainly just adaptations of whimsical poems, so they don’t tell you much of anything. Memory, which features original lyrics and no dancing is an exception to this rule. In general, because they’re not dance roles, Grizabella and Old Deuteronomy have to use music and song lyrics to play their parts in the story. Jemima also does this whenever she does something connected to either one of them.

But, Cats is normally more of a ballet than an opera. Ballet tells a story purely through dance. Because the lyrics in Cats matter so rarely, it ends up working like a ballet, because the dance, unrelated to the poems, means something. It’s still a heightened reality where music invokes emotions and actors emote with their whole bodies, like in other musicals, but instead of the dance being an amplifier, it’s the storyteller.

ALW really liked a bunch of poems and wanted to put them to music. The result was a bunch of songs with a similar them but no real connection to each other. That works as a concept album, but Webber wanted a musical, an actual show where people danced to his concept album. He didn’t care about the story and didn’t expect anyone else to.

But, other people cared about the story. No one knew how to make a musical that’s not about something. Trevor Nunn added Memory and the storyline with Grizabella as an emotional centerpiece. There wasn’t a clear plot, but, on an emotional level, it now felt like something was actually happening. Gillian Lynne had no idea how to choreograph a musical about nothing, so she didn’t. She came up with her own interpretations of things and made the show about something. Several somethings, in fact. Victoria is going through puberty and discovering her sexuality. Demeter is recovering from an abusive sexual experience, with Bomba having a different attitude towards being in the same situation. The women in the story were given detailed story arcs that often revolved around their sexuality.

How sexuality is portrayed in Cats could be its own essay.

Anyway, Cats tells its story with a unique style of choreography. Because the choreographer is the story teller, Lynne had a lot of influence over the show. She was the one who knew all the details. Blankenbuehler was brought in to choreograph a show, like a normal job for him, not knowing what that would actually mean. He came in to have dance amplify the emotions in the song lyrics like in any other musical, not knowing that that’s impossible to do with Cats. The role of choreographer meant a level of knowledge and control that would normally belong to the director, composer, and lyricist. He didn’t realize that the show having any story at all depended on him.

So, he did stuff that looked cool, but didn’t tell the story, or that took the story in a direction that it wasn’t supposed to go. Tugger dancing in front of a giant mirror is funny in the moment, but that sort of narcissism, though funny, isn’t likable, and Tugger needs to be likable. He’s a major character and he helps save the day at the end by hyping up Misto. But, 2016 Tugger hypes up Misto because if feels like Misto is the only cat he truly respects. He has the same respect for Old Deuteronomy that the others have, but he doesn’t sound quite as sincere when he sings about him. He spends so much of his number antagonizing Munkustrap in particular that it’s hard to believe that he has any respect for him.

What can be learned from these interviews is that Blankenbuehler didn’t know what his job truly was and was there because someone important thought Cats would be more popular in 2016 if it was more like Hamilton and got the Hamilton guy to give it a make-over. Nunn was so proud of the show’s success that he neglected what made it successful in the first place, and the 2016 cast was rushed through rehearsals without proper instructions. Everyone tried their best, but they were all stuck.

For the most part, I blame whoever decided to have Blankenbuehler rechoreograph the show. Blankenbuehler did what he thought his job was and the cast did their jobs to the best of their ability. What really ruined Cats 2016 was an executive decision to fix something that wasn’t broken, believing if they made the Old Big Show more like the New Big Show, that would make people love it again. But Hamilton is no more like Cats than a cat is like a dog.

#cats 2016 #lots of cats tours #really long post #andy blankenbuehler is bad at cats #but it's not his fault #a cat is not a hamilton #gillian lynne #don't let her legacy die with her

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villainousshakespeare · 3 years

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Putting it Back Together Chapter 4

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Adam/OFC

Rated M (will probably change to E) - Grief, angst, eventual smut, mention of characters dead before the start of the story, blood, slow burn, touch starved

Summary: Since the death of his beloved Eve, Adam had been barely living, only alive due to a promise he made to her. Then one night he meets his new neighbor, a woman dealing with grief of her own. Will they help each other heal or drive each other crazy?

@yespolkadotkitty @just-the-hiddles @hopelessromanticspoonie @wine-and-whines @arch-venus25 @caffiend-queen @devilish–doll @enchantedbyhiddles @hiddlesholic @i-do-not-fangirl-i-fanwoman @kellatron55 @ladyoftheteaandblood @latent-thoughts @gorgeous1974 @maryxglz @myoxisbroken @nuggsmum @nildespirandum @pedeka @redfoxwritesstuff @sinfully-lustful-darling @vodka-and-some-sass @wrathkitty @kingtwhiddleston @wolfsmom1 @poetic-fiasco @shiningloki @dangertoozmanykids101 @bookworm-christina @thecutestlittlebunbunfairy @amwolowicz @delightfulheartdream @frostbitten-written @what-a-flammable-heart @tom-hlover @nonsensicalobsessions @myraiswack @loki-yoursaviourishere

This had not been part of his plan, Adam thought as he switched on a lamp and cringed at the disaster that was his livingroom. Instruments and musical equipment were strewn all over the place, wires and amps just waiting to trip the unwary or uncoordinated. Which, by everything he had observed so far, definitely included his companion.

"Sorry for the mess," he mumbled, clearing a path to the sofa with his foot.

"Don't be," Lilly smiled, looking around with avid interest. "It's exactly how I envisioned it!"

"Great," Adam rolled his eyes.

"Not that I've been envisioning it," she blurted out, face turning scarlet. "I just meant... well, if I thought about it at all, which I only did because I could hear you so clearly over here... and what with all the clattering around..."

"You expected it to be a wreck," he finished for her as he swept a collection of books off of the ancient sofa and onto the floor.

"It's cozy," she said lamely.

"If you say so. Sorry I don't have anything to offer you except water to drink. I don't entertain. Ever."

"Water would be perfect," she smiled encouragingly at him, as though he were a toddler displaying acceptable manners in company.

Which, he supposed, was about right. Fuck, he wasn't even sure if the water here was potable. He had never drank any of it, of course. He only used the kitchen sink to wash the cordial glasses from which he drank his blood. Fetching a slightly larger cup that he had found in the cupboard when he moved in and giving it a quick clean, Adam let the water run for a few minutes to help clear out the pipes. It didn't look too contaminated; he hoped he was not about to poison her.

"Here," he walked back to the livingroom and thrust the glass into her hand. "No ice, freezer doesn't work."

"I'd say you should call the super, but I guess that doesn't work if you're the owner."

"It doesn't really bother me," he replied with a shrug. "I'll fix it myself eventually."

"After all, you don't have guests," she said impishly.

"Right."

"Perfectly drinkable," she judged after taking a sip from the cup.

"Good. Now, let me see if I can find that tape player."

That was what she was doing here, after all. Why his invitation had popped out he could not fathom, much less how he had ended up bringing her back here that very night. At least this way he could limit the time he spent with her, he supposed. It was already two in the morning; not long until the sun began to approach the horizon and he would be forced to show her the door whether he wanted to or not.

Glancing over to where she lounged on his sofa, he was not so sure what the decision would be on that one. Her legs, stretched out on the cushion, were quite shapely despite her petite stature, and the red top just invited one to run their hands over it to feel the silky material and the lush curves underneath. And then, of course, there was her neck, long and white and begging to be bitten.

Adam swallowed and turned away. He could not help but think of the last time he had had a mortal in his home, though it had not been this one. Ian, his supplier of instruments and all around procurer had been almost a friend, if a zombie could ever be thought so. He was sweet and harmless, and Adam had a genuine affection for him in a distant sort of way. It had been a horrid shock to walk into the room one night after sun set and see the young man sitting lifeless on the couch, blood drained from his body and drying on the face of Ava, Eve's feral sister.

Adam had always hated Ava, and that night had been the last straw. It was also the beginning of the end to life as he knew it. Within hours he had tossed her out on her skinny ass, disposed of poor Ian's body, and was on a flight with Eve to Tangier, where she was destined to drink tainted blood and die. All because Ava had sucked Ian dry. All the more reason to hate his late wife's bitch of a sister.

Still, looking at Lilly stretching herself out, he could understand a little better how Ian had come to die. Ava had whined to them about how cute he had been, how she couldn't resist. At the time he had scorned such a thing as a pathetic lack of self control. He still did to a large extent, but at last he knew the urge. Not just the urge to feed, an impulse they all shared, but an urge to take a human in such an intimate embrace. When Eve was alive it would never have occurred to him, he had had her for such connections, he needed no one else. Now though, alone and untouched for years, he longed to feel Lilly's smooth skin against his mouth, to hear her gasp and sigh as he ran his lips over her neck.

Not that he would ever drain her, of course. He was not such a monster. He would not even drink from her. To do so would expose his true nature, and that would mean relocating again, as well as putting her life in danger.

No, he would do her this one favor, and then he would return to seclusion. He would make sure that he left through the basement when absolutely necessary so that she did not hear him, would otherwise stay inside so that their paths would cease to cross. It would be better for them both.

"Here it is," he mumbled with satisfaction. "Give me a moment to set it up."

"Take your time," she said happily.

Glancing over, Adam saw that she had given up lounging and was now coiling up all of guitar cables into neat rounds. He had to admit that she did a good job - they were neither too tight so as to damage the wires nor too loose so as to unravel as soon as she walked away. With a shrug of his shoulders he allowed her to continue. The cables could use sorting, and he was certainly not inclined to the task.

"Sorry," she said with a blush as she caught him staring. "I warned you, I fidget. I seem to always need something to do with my hands."

He could think of several things she could do to keep her hands busy, he thought. God, what was wrong with him? Was he really so touch starved?

"Where's the tape?" he finally asked

She leapt up from where she had been sitting, breasts bouncing as she did, and almost reverently handed him the box containing her Grandmother's recordings. Adam turned back around, discreetly adjusting himself as he did. He carefully placed the spool in his machine, grateful for something to occupy him until he got himself under control.

After a short series of clicks and static while the tape began to unreel, a scratchy blare of a trumpet began to waft through the air, soon joined by a piano and soft brushes on drums. Adam was taken back to a different era. A time when he had circulated more among the general population of humans. Women wore dresses and hats, men suits and ties, and a sophisticated style permeated the music scene. He had forgotten how much he enjoyed that era, the end of the 40s and beginning of the 50s. Between his excitement at the recent technological advances and his nostalgia for the old days of the height of classical composition, Adam sometimes forgot the joy and sorrow, the feeling that jazz could evoke.

When the voice, low, smooth, and heavy with emotion, slid in like honey, he looked instinctively to Lilly. Her mouth was open, shaped with a hint of smile at the corners. Her eyes blinked quickly, struggling he was sure to hold back tears. This would be the first time, he supposed, that he had heard her Grandmother sing since she had died. Even without the connection to the woman, Adam himself was moved by the song. He was struck by how strong Lilly was being, listening and holding back her tears.

Moving one step towards her, Adam opened his arms. With a catch of indrawn breath Lilly took two steps of her own and for the second time buried her face against his chest. It was so different thought, he thought as his arms came around her. That first night on the roof, she had been some annoying zombie woman, pushing herself in where she was not wanted. Her blubbering all over him had been almost violent in the way she sobbed and clutched at him. Now, she simply melted against him, and he gently stroked her back as he rested his chin on the top of her head.

The song ended and another began, this one he remembered. It had been a huge hit, still was sung every so often, covered by lesser vocalists. Lilly's Grandmother was not one of those. She was a true artist.

"There's a somebody I'm longing to see, I hope that he turns out to be Someone to watch over me..."

As the music continued, Adam found himself swaying to it, bringing Lilly along with him. She was stiff at first in his arms when he began to dance with her, but when she realized what he was doing she relaxed and allowed herself to feel the rhythm. She would never be a natural dancer, and she was clearly still in her head, but there was something sweet about that. She tried so hard at everything. Tried to be strong, tried to keep busy, tried to learn, tried to be happy.

When was the last time he had been happy, Adam wondered. When was the last time he had even tried? Not since Eve, certainly. Before that, he was unsure. There were moments, of course, even at the end with her when he had been so. He loved her with an enduring passion. But he had been going through the motions for decades, shutting himself off from the world around him. Ian had been practically his only connection to it.

Pulling back a bit, he spun Lilly about and half smiled at her. It felt strange to smile even that much. Muscles he had not used in forever only half remembered how to work. He had always had a brooding nature, but of late it had become harsh even for him.

They kept dancing until the tape ended, adjusting to the tempo and style of each song. It felt so good to lose himself in someone else's music for a change. To hold someone, to connect with someone. She was right, what she had said earlier that night. Music required no discussion, no messy dialogue. You could just feel it, let it move through you. And where there was someone else there, someone who even if not a musician herself clearly had an ear and more to the point a soul for it, to share it with it could be a profound experience.

When at last the song ended, Adam and Lilly's eyes met and something deeper than a smile passed between them. It was sad and joyful and required no words. They both collapsed on the sofa, Adam pulling her into the crook of his arm as he sat sprawled and tired. Lilly's legs were curled under her and she rested her head against his chest. He could feel the rise and fall of breathing, fast at first from the exertion of dancing, begin to slow. It was some time later that he realized she had fallen asleep on him.

How strange, he thought, that she should be so comfortable with him that she could so easily drift off. He had perfected the art of scaring people off, and yet this tiny woman had tenaciously refused to be run off. She seemed to trust him, even, had shared something deeply personal with him.

The sun would be up soon. He should wake her, he knew. Yet, looking at how peaceful she looked he could not bring himself to do so. Gently, Adam slid out from beneath her, lowering her head down onto a convenient throw pillow. He foraged about until he found a blanket on an armchair and draped it over her, tucking her in. Lilly sighed and burrowed deeper into the sofa, a light sigh escaping her lips.

Taking one last look, he made sure the curtains were drawn, turned off the light, and headed to his bedroom. Things would go back to normal tomorrow; they had too. But let them both sleep peacefully today.

***

Lilly scrunched her eyes and stretched a bit, trying to wriggle away from a hard lump she could feel under her left side. What had she left on her bed that was poking into her with such insistency. Feeling under her blindly, she pulled out something long and wooden. A drumstick? How on earth had that ended up in her bed? And why did the mattress feel like velvet?

As she emerged from the fog of sleep, Lilly came to the sudden realization that she was not, in fact, in her own bed.

Sitting up, she felt a smile cross her face that was lit from within. Last night had been a good night. She had reconnected with some old friends, and maybe even made a new one. Twenty-four hours ago Lilly would have thought the possibility of a friendship with Adam a fantasy at best, delusion more likely. And yet he had approached her, he had accepted her invitation to the club, and he had issued an invitation of his own that led her back to his apartment.

Oh, not that Lilly was crazy enough to think that he meant anything more by it than friendship. She was not the type of woman that brooding musicians stayed up composing love songs for. She was the type who hounded them with her insistent chirping until they finally relented and occasionally allowed them inside, like the mangy cat you gave milk to once who would forever after haunted your door. She was fine with that, she told herself. He had been a friend when she needed one, lending her an arm to dance with and a shoulder to lean on when she needed it most.

He had also, it seemed from the blanket draped around her, tucked her in. Her grin widened. Despite how hard he tried to cultivate his grumpy persona, Adam had could not hide the sweet kindness in his nature from her any longer. She had felt it as he had held her last night, and later when they danced.

That had been something she would not soon forget. Lilly was too tense as a rule to be graceful, but Adam was such a strong leader that she had stopped worrying about his poor toes and let herself simply enjoy. His body had been a continuation of the music, feeling it to the tips of his fingers and the ends of his hair it seemed. All loose and yet firm where his hand lay on her back, he had guided her flawlessly, swaying to the sound.

All in all, it had been a far better send off for her grandmother than the stuffy funeral planned by her father. The old woman would have enjoyed last night, Lilly knew, and she would have enjoyed Adam. Beyond the shared love of music, his sharp tongue and kind heart would have been just to her liking.

Not wanting to send her mind down fruitless paths, Lilly stood up to get a better look at the room. It really was exactly how she had imagined it, if not more so. Every flat surface from the floor to the mismatched furniture was covered in instruments, sound equipment, mechanisms for which she had no names, and the odd notebook or staff paper. Three of the walls were covered in sound proofing foam, the third in an odd collection of portraits. Looking at them, Lilly found scientists, authors, artists, philosophers, all sorts of creative and intellectual types. She made a game of naming them all, only coming up blank on two (although three more were guesses), and trying to decipher meaning from who was present and who absent. Somewhere in there, she was sure, was the secret to his mind's inner working.

Part way through her perusal, Lilly realized that nature was calling. Assuming the layout to his home was similar to hers, she made her way as quietly as she could up the creaky staircase. Once at the top, she was greeted with a long hallway, three doors on each side.

The first door she tried opened into a room dominated by a large drum kit. Scattered about around it were a music store's worth of other percussive instruments. Some day, she thought, she would like to come back and play in here, to see if she could bang out some of her inner frustration. It must be as good as therapy in some ways!

As she opened the second door an avalanche of what she thought were rugs or tapestries of some sort threatened to come spilling out and bury her. She quickly leaned all of her weight against it to close it shut again, hoping she hadn't disturbed anything expensive and moved on to the third door.

Lilly forgot how to breath as she opened it. There, spread out on a large bed covered in pillows, lay Adam, completely naked.

Lilly knew she needed to quickly exit, closing the door behind her, but she could not seem to make her limbs obey her. If Michelangelo had wanted a model for his David, he could have used him, she thought. Adam lay on his stomach, face buried in a pillow. While this luckily or unfortunately (she could not decide) preserved some of his modesty, there was still quite a bit on display to appreciate.

Broad, well muscled shoulders and back gleamed pale, contrasting against the dark of his hair where it fell. His waist segued gorgeously into a pair of slender hips and - dear lord, there should be a law! - a perfectly firm and round ass that Lilly would have given her right hand to squeeze. Long, lean legs seemed to go on for days, and actually fell off the bed before reaching his gigantic feet. A mischievous part of Lilly felt the urge to reach out and tickle them, and she actively clasped her hands behind her back to keep from acting on this awful impulse.

Had she really tried to convince herself, just moments before, that she was perfectly happy to just be his friend? If so, she had been deluding herself. Oh, she would take what she could get, but Lilly knew in that moment that she would go to her grave ruined for anyone else.

As she stood staring unabashedly at him, Adam mumbled something incomprehensible into the pillow. Lilly started to make for the door, but his head turned towards her and she realized he was still asleep. Cautiously, she lingered a moment longer, watching as he reached out to the other side of the bed, as though searching for something not there.

"Eve," he said, clearly this time. "Baby, I miss you."

Someone had reached into Lilly's chest and crushed her heart between their fist.

She had no idea why it had never occurred to her that he might have a lover, or even a wife. He was beyond gorgeous, brilliantly talented, and obviously had money. Anyone would want him. Why should she assume that just because there was no woman here at this moment he was single?

And yet, clearly, she had. The raw emotion in his voice, the need as he called the woman's name had been all it took to destroy her heart.

Following the direction he was facing, Lilly realized that in this room of dirty laundry and bedding, one picture stood out like a beacon. Placed on the table next to the bed where it could clearly be seen was a photo of Adam and a woman of ethereal beauty. She was not "pretty" in a conventional way, but had something far beyond that. Almost as tall as he was, and perhaps even paler, she was stunning in a cream colored suite with yellow gold hair. Adam had his arms twined around her center, and looked at her with such love in his eyes that it was unmistakable.

Forgetting her need for the bathroom, Lilly bolted out of the room and down the stairs. She needed to get out of here. Away from the perfect man who she was afraid she had already fallen for and the perfect woman who was clearly everything Lilly was not. Including it now became clear, the one that Adam wanted.

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disney-rapunzel-merida-vanellope · 3 years

Text

- cool opening credits omg 😳

- such a beautiful scenery. It’s like the bayou from princess and the frog right? So pretty

- loving the animation on the moon’s reflection

- the 2nd sequence began and I’m just thinking about how experimental and passionate about the art of animation this whole war era is till now. A great break from conventional storytelling and movie rules to give us fun short stories that idolize the medium of animation

- the teens sequence is so much fun. From the girl getting ready, to the car scene to the dance. Loved it. The animation is so fluid and versatile. The flipping page transitions, the teen’s portrayal, the drawing of props in real time, the different dances, the old cartoon style with those black dots or lashes for eyes i looooove it

- this 3rd sequence is very pretty but i get lost in thoughts when theres not much going on

- 4rd sequence. Idk what Americans see in this sport. It’s the most boring thing to me. Can’t wait for it to appear in chicken little 🥴 but at least the movie makes it entertaining with their goofiness

- dont know what these girls are fangirling about, every man in this sequence is ugly af

- honestly don’t understand what’s happening…. Isn’t Casey supposed to swing the bat? Why is the crowd mad at the orange guys? They want them dead???? But the Casey guy missed the shot??? What’s going on????

- Casey doesn’t even know how to play?? Why does he have fangirls then?? I give up on trying to understand this. The animation was full of personality but i didnt get the story. Next

- 5th sequence. Now ballet is much better!!! Me likey. Love the backgrounds so much. That heart gate at the beginning was gorgeous. Love the mix of life action with animation always always, this era is giving us so much of this. Gorgeous simple sequence

- 6th sequence. I HAVE WATCH THIS ONE 😯 The same art teachers that showed us fantasia in 5th grade for our “art with music” project also showed us this peter and the wolf sequence. We had a classmate named Sonia and Sonia being a duck in the movie was the joke of the day 😂

- every character having a different instrument is so clever. I love when animation and music are made for each other

- i dont remember the story at all LMAO

- sonia’s neck IS BROKEN 😭 I swear she just did a 360º back and forth no problem

- is the narrator in these war era movies always the same guy? Cause it sounds like it is

- this wold is scary AF 😭 NOT HIM BENDING PETER AND PETER JUST STANDING THERE 😭 WHY U LAUGHING COWARD SONIA?

- DID SHE JUST DIE

- the middle huntsman omg

- “oh happy day! I think I’ll say that again. Oh happy day!” SONIA IS DEAD “ everybody’s happy. Except the wolf” SONIA IS DEAD

- SHES ALIVE???? 💀 Those gates of heaven opened just to kick het back out

- wonder is my Sonia classmate is doing well

- 7th sequence. I love animation more abstract that is made for music so this one is fun. And the characters are literally musical instruments kkkkk

- 8th sequence. NOT ME CRYING OVER HATS IN LOVE AND THEIR SAD FORCED SEPARATION 😭

- The boy hat has such an expressive design, with the head hole being his mouth and the girl is just a hat with a face 😭 her eyes are also so non expressive kkkk she was crying but her eyes were bedroom eyes 😭

- this is giving major the blue umbrella by pixar vibes. I like this a lot

- love how we can recognize the type of character just by the hat’s design. Character design in non humans really gives everything away about the character just from the look

- 9th sequence. Finally will know what’s this whale’s story

- A singing cat not believing in a singing whale 😳

- this beginning is so good 💃🏻 loved the scientists denying and certifying it 😂

- from wanting to kill the whale to shutting the boss down cause the whale is giving a show 😂

- dont shoot the whale! I want him to live his dream and go on tour 😭

- why is the stereotype of opera singer a fat blonde woman with 2 braids?? Bonus if shes in a Viking costume

- MEPHISTO WAS IN MAKE MINE MUSIC ALL ALONG

-NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

- 😡

- At least he entered the kingdom of god

-SOLD OUT KKKKKKKKK

- Thats a gorgeous gate omg so pink and sparkly and in the clouds. My aesthetic

- id watch the next movie but someone decided to invent devices without the headphones holes so now I’m stuck with Bluetooth ones that run out of battery all the time 😒

- really cute movie. Loved the teens, hats and whale’s sequences the most

- again, why isn’t this on disney+? It would be much easier to watch it all in order there

#make mine music #disney #disney animation #watching every disney animation movie #disney marathon

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fiore-rosewood9 · 3 years

Note

✫ for Japan?

Unpopular headcanon about Japan? I actually have a few of them

NSFW AND SFW ahread.

Kiku draws manga in his free time and is a popular manga artist but he uses a penname.

I sometimes like to imagine that he exists as a real human being and has had a late night bar conversation with Himaruya and they are both drunk and he starts talking about how he is a country and talks about countries without even realizing. Himaruya takes a cab and walks home and get the brilliant idea about drawing a manga about humanoid countries vaguely inspired by what the mysterious man with black hair and dark brown eyes told him, even though he can't remember how his face looks

Kiku, Erszebet, Mei and Francis are what I call the - pervert quartet

They have secret meetings the four of them where they discuss manga and hentai. Even though Eliza and Mei like to discuss yaoi and fangirl over it more. Francis actually joined later and Eliza was hesitant for him to join since she knows how he is but is actually surprised when he acts like a normal human being and can have interesting conversations with everyone. Even though she dislikes him for many reasons, she did confess to him once that is he is charismatic. Kiku sends Francis a hentai manga Francis has ordered specifically and Francis repays in french sweets, especially macarons since they're Kiku's favourite. France and Japan have weird fascination with each other's cultures and tend to talk a lot to one another on phone. Usually Kiku hates phone calls but in his mind, Francis has extremely calming voice, it kinda puts him to sleep.

Kiku has drawn Hetalia related doujinshis and the other three group members know and so do other countries, like Alfred after he visited Kiku once and found Kiku accidentally drawing a lewd scene on his pad but he never talked to him about it, since such things embarass him, plus he also assumes that Kiku is overly nice goody two shoes and would blush, get embarassed and deny it. Plus he can't do it to him self because he still finds the topic of sex as awkward and thinks he would ruin his friendship with him and lose his respect.

Kiku's favourite era for fashion is actually the Taisho period which is from 1912 to 1926 and he thinks that people should pay more attention to it, because yes, the Edo and Meiji periods have their own unique beautiful style but the Taisho is so underrated.

Kiku loves to exercise and wakes up at 5:45 every day to run in his neighbourhood while listening to Babymetal.

Kiku loves to cosplay different characters and goes to anime festivals

Kiku isn't particularly a cat or a dog person but he has had a period where he took a bit too much pets and couldn't afford to look after them so he made it his goal to find them loving homes, which he did

Kiku suffers from being overly self aware of everything, which makes him stutter and paralyze when he has to talk. He tries to cope with it by bitting the inside of his cheek and breathing heavily but he is still not over his anxiety.

Kiku is one of the few people who actually recognizes Canada, that isn't Seychelles, France or America. England sometimes still mistakes Canada for America on a rare occasion, which hurts him.

I have heard some people headcanoning that Japan loves sushi and noodles and everything, but in my opinion his faovurite food is - Sukiyaki.

Kiku still sometimes goes to London to visit England and drink earl grey tea with him, but he really isn't sure what mister Kirkland means when he says that he saw magical creatures and ghosts in his house.

(This is a refrence to the hetalia CDs if you are wondering)

#hetalia #japan #aph japan #hws japan #kiku honda #hws #aph #fiore rosewood headcanons #unpopular headcanons #hetalia2021 #answering an ask #fiore rosewood answer

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seb-owns-these-tatas · 4 years

Text

Witcher Of The Night (Chapter 3)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

CHAPTER 2

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: Y/N seem to have woken up with a panic attack and with questions inside her head about on how she would come back to her world. Geralt may have said a solution to it, but it was rather difficult to achieve. Furthermore, it seems as if there was another thing difficult to attain as well which leaves him upset and frustrated with everything. No matter how you were out of place in Geralt's family, you couldn't help but still feel that peculiar warmth you wanted to feel forever.

Warnings: No modern references in this one except for fried chicken. Story title insertion! *wink wink nudge nudge* A lot of Jaskier, Geralt and Ciri banters and a soft but kinda rough Geralt in this one because of certain circumstances. THERE'S TENSION IF Y'ALL BE FEELING IT. AHONHONHON. Mention of Yennefer of Vengerberg in this one. Also explanation of portals and mention of potions used in the game. A lot of talking, less action. You’ll get your action and ANGST on the next chapterSSSSS!

Words: 6,570+ (LONGGGGGGG AF! I WAS SHOOKTH!)

A/N: Reader is between 5'1 or 5'. You can imagine a 4'11 one if you want to! I JUST REALIZED...HOW...SHE'LL....THEY'LL....ALRIGHT, GET WRECKED, READER! 😅🤣🤣

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE!

Taglist: @alyxkbrl @himarisolace @barkingbullfrog @ayamenimthiriel @hellodevilslittlesister @vania-marie @spookypeachx @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us @nympeth @missjenniferb (I couldn’t tag you bud! A different blog was popping out of the recommendation and it wasn’t your blog. Though, I’ll try again on the next update! Don’t worry!) @amirahiddleston @gabethelobster @dreaming-about-starfleet @uncoolcloudyhead @melaninstylezz

Disclaimer: PNG's used in edits are not mine even the GIF's too. However, the edits and oneshots are definitely from moi. Characters, places and said monsters aren't from moi as well. I’ve taken it from the games.

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

The sun's rays cascaded on your face. Smell of burned out Oak wood whiffed through the air and filled your senses as faded voices suddenly become apparent for no reason, or probably a reason for you to wake up from your uncomfortable sleeping position.

Was it the TV? You thought to yourself, scrunching your nose from the sun that hit your face and merely from the dust that was flying all over the place. As much as you've remembered, cleaning has been your habit at home and having a dirty apartment was unfamiliar.

The rays of the sun was suddenly hidden from a body who had to lean down to take a good look at your face. You've hardly squinted your eye to blur out the television in the background, shifting your head around and leaning fully on your forehead instead to avoid your cat named Jafar from sniffing your face.

"Princess Cirilla," Geralt deeply groused, his grim seeming to be felt by how brooding he had to put up; inches away from Jaskier and Cirilla who were close to you and around the table, watching you sleep like a baby.

The light blonde princess who had bright ocean blue eyes demanded with a soft kick to the ground, "But, Geralt!" she bellowed with a huff, "I wanna be her friend! You lads aren't fun to be with!"

"She won't stay long, Cirilla. She isn't from our world," Geralt droned and felt the enervation of not having his sleep last night. You were weeping like a toddler all night and his heightened senses weren't helping himself when he could hear those snuffles echoing as he shifted and turned all over on his side of the bed.

It was beyond terrible and utmost irksome.

His initial thought was to help a screaming lady sprinting in the middle of the woods and shoo her off when he's done killing the creature hunting her down. He didn't expect for her to live with them after he did so' just like how Ciri eventually landed on his hands for him to take care of. Amazingly, the adoption he had consist of an explanation, a royal offer from the kingdom of Cintra that involves the Law Of Surprise unlike with you; there was none. Not even a justification as to why you were there with them.

Saving Y/N didn't mean another adoption was up to claim and for him to protect with all his life.

Jaskier sat on the wooden chair in front of you as he deliberated and tried to understand your situation in his own creative wits, "You mean a Teleporter?"

Geralt shook his head, eyes narrowing as he looked at you from the side; assessing your whole ordeal and trying to get a gist of magic in your veins, "No, Jaskier." Howbeit, he'd felt none and it was frustrating the Witcher, "---She doesn't possess magic, I can sense it."

The bard shrugged and disregarded his opinions, giving Geralt a once over before focusing on your hair; momentarily plucking out a small leaf out of your hair which erupted a cock of Geralt's head as he watched Jaskier having no fraught from touching you.

"You know that senses of yours aren't exactly a hundred percent accurate when you've got kicked by a Kikimore and bitten by Ghouls,"

His expression was stoic, glowering before them both and especially from Jaskier's comment. Cirilla had her delicate fingers clasp together and over the side of her face as she admired your sleeping face, "She's so adorable while she sleeps!" she continued to cajole, "---Even a little shorter than me! Maybe she's my age and we can play!"

"She isn't," Geralt ceased her admiration and shook his head, beautiful gold eyes staring at your face that shifted and was now face front as to where he stood from afar, "How certain are you about that? You've only met her last night!"

Jaskier had his fist on his chin, deliberately looking at Geralt with that knowing look.

The Witcher lowly hummed in ponder. Focal point on your sleeping face with a stoic expression, trying to distinguish your length of life from the moment you were born, "Y/N must be in between the age of twenty to twenty-five,"

Cirilla had her eyebrows in a twist as she moved around to take a closer look at you again, a frown from the information that has been said, "But, she looks younger than her age!"

"Not at least in between ninety? or exactly a hundred? Like you, Geralt?" Jaskier added to the dispute. His query making Geralt sigh because he has been repeating the idea like a slow idiot.

"She doesn't possess some sorts of magic nor is she mutated, Bard."

"Maybe she possesses the power of immortality!"

He glared at the bard who gave him a shrug, Jaskier's face still dead beat from how his nap has been ruined prior to the night, but he had more sleep than Geralt did considering he wasn't a Witcher and had senses that not any normal human may possess.

"So her name is Y/N?! Why didn't you wake me up to welcome our visitor?!" The girl in a mint green Kirtle exclaimed, their voices finally coming to your senses and realizing that it wasn't your television nor was it your cat's breath on your face. You whimpered in an attempt to wake yourself up; yawning in the process and languidly bringing your head up for it to be bent at an angle with your arm on the table and fist on your temple.

"You were sleeping," Geralt began, resolving her dismay at the situation at hand, "--and there was a beast, Princess. It was hunting her down,"

"Oh, poor Y/N," Cirilla frowned a tighter one, eyeing you down and peeking from under your arm as she noticed the bruises on your face. She took a second before straightening her back, the braid she'd fixed never turning higgley-piggledy because of how tight and proper it was. A look of interest sent to the Witcher by the princess of Cintra herself and now the future queen ahead, "But, did you kill it, Geralt?"

Their voices seem to be recognizable, the two men of some sort and the kid's voice completely unfamiliar for you. Repetitive blinks full of fatigue before having the energy to sleepily place your chin on your fist, a blurry image of a youthful, lean body and a pretty face of a man sitting in front you coming clearer as you blinked again.

"Isn't it such a sight to wake up to your bruising face early in the morning, small rat."

Your face turned into a tight frown at the image sitting before you. The pillow of your lip jutting out in a pout when you've scanned the whole place and saw Geralt standing with a stern expression on his face, behind a kid who looked taller than you and extremely pretty.

The house even looked more old and primitive in the morning like you're currently living in history which made you groan to yourself because you haven't teleported back to your home as Jaskier said last night.

Great. Just great. You thought in the back of your mind before grumbling, "Can you...stab me with your sword right now?"

The question was sent to the Witcher despite of staring fully on the table. You didn't hear an answer from him as per usual and felt your anxiety rising through your head in agitation like a lighter sparking the gas. It's travelling too fast that you haven't realized the panic shooting wildly.

"I'm still here," you bawled, "I'm still here," and repeated over and over like a dinosaur jumping on rocks whenever google doesn't have internet. The panic was beginning to boil, making your fingers tremble in apprehension as you've struggled to keep in place on your seat, your feet on the ground shaking from the worry. Both hands gripping on your roots as you began to bawl out because you couldn't scream out all your frustrations because that's not how you roll, "I've already slept, I thought I'll be waking up in my apartment already,"

Cirilla took a step back when you've started crying, looking over at Geralt to ask what was happening. Both men together were contemplating as to what was happening as the Bard reluctantly and very slowly stood up as his gaze was fixated on you who kept on mumbling in whispers. He ran behind Geralt like you were a possessed woman and actually thinking you were casting a spell because of how fast you were mumbling your feelings out loud, sounding incomprehensible to the ears of everyone except for Geralt.

Jaskier stood behind Geralt like a kitten shielding behind his mother, "Geralt! I told you! She's a sorceress! One like Yennefer! This is probably why you're fond of her!"

Cirilla examined your state and tried understanding what was happening, her nerves also unsettling about the fact that maybe you were possessed by black magic. Though, she doubt it because you should've attacked everyone already.

Hence, there you were in your own seat. Bawling your eyes out like a toddler who had been left by her parents.

"Geralt? Is she okay?" the pretty child questioned Geralt who stood behind her with a distant look on his face.

His eyes narrowed on you, continuing his perusal. He was trying to fathom what was running inside those mind of yours and when a tear fell and another sniff coming from your side of the cavern, he knew it. A slight turn of his head and his silent thoughts of understanding as he had seen you freaking out and crying like last night; he knew what was happening.

"She's...panicking. Utterly harmless, Jaskier. Just like how humans do unless you aren't actually one," Geralt nonchalantly informed the bard who was hiding behind his towering form. He watched you roughly wipe your tears with the back of your clothed hand; his sweater that was awfully big for you and continued to rant while he narrowed his eyes as your focus was now on the knife set on an empty soiled plate that Jaskier has left.

"I just wanna go home!"

His forehead creased to the extent of trying to figure you out. Shoulders slumping as he breathed out a ragged curse beneath his breath to further his dissatisfaction of your next move.

"Y/N!"

You were fast enough to grab onto the sharpened knife, aiming it to the sensitive portion of your neck. However, not fast enough for the Witcher to even let it happen.

The knife in your hand wasn't even lifted halfway for Geralt to know what you were going to do. He'd seen a lot of bloodshed and known enough people who wanted for their blood to drop out of their hands. It only took two steps for him to construct his onslaught before you've even tried to slit your throat before them.

Your choice of weapon has been sheathed away from you. The tall, brooding, brawny Witcher slightly bending you on the table as he pulled the knife away from your neck with just a grip that didn't even earned him a sweat. It was like taking candy from a baby. Yet, you were pretty much struggling a lot from his strength as you tried wrenching your wrist off his hold with Geralt hunching down before you and never letting go.

Those gold eyes were a charm against the rays of the sun cascading his face. Your faces close from each other and you can see the chagrin and fury swirling in his eyes rather than those plain, apathetic glimmer set in his eyes with a warmth you couldn't express. With that only being seen and stared at, you knew he was furious.

The scary witcher was losing his temper.

"Let me go, Geralt." you firmly stated, voice wavering and sounding small like you were being hunted by a cheetah. Geralt held his scowl better than he had to when he has seen you the first time and it wasn't faltering.

You tried wrenching your wrist away from the Witcher, but he pulled it back with no remorse. Keeping you in place as he seethed; Aurum eyes momentarily taking a glimpse of your dry, chapped lips that were inches apart before settling those peepers on yours again and he wanted to groan out loud for the unsettling emotion he was having, "I would like to see you try, Midget."

Geralt held your wrist tighter around his fingers because you were moving, though; the simple action was enough for you to stop and never even think about doing it again. The strength that he was using was not enough to inflict pain. "I don't need another person's blood on my hands,"

Some of his dirt-ivory colored hair fell on his face as he continued to fume. Expression thoroughly livid as he said those words like it was burnt till dust, a history that should've been left forgotten but was now relived because of your forsaken act.

His warm breath hit your face and you couldn't move at all, like you were powerless and utter putty in his hands. You've heard a grumble vibrated out of his chest before snatching the knife off your fingers and quickly retreating from his position with a frustrated hum, leaving you exhaling out a breath you didn't know you were holding since he has grabbed onto you.

"Wha-what if dying is the only way to bring me back," you've tried to keep yourself in tact despite of the fast beating of your heart and the anomalous heat travelling all over your body. You shook the feeling off with a shake of your head as you continued; looking at Jaskier and Cirilla, avoiding the presence of the man who has been playing with your mind and human heart, "---I've slept, tried everything and still woke up in your house,"

The declaration sounded weak; completely despairing as you've seen Geralt saunter back to where he has been standing before you even tried to slit yourself alive. A tight moue that twisted his features from the act that has happened; filling utter disappointment as the rough crease of his wrinkles wanted to say.

But, he chose to stay silent rather than let out those emotions he was battling with.

You were completely an unorthodox to him. A picture he couldn't see and never wanted to even touch but hoped to imagine.

"I can feel you, I can touch everyone, I can feel sadness, despair, happiness, pain and a lot more," he felt your eyes on him as the first word has been said before reluctantly sharing gazes at the other two who were breathing when you've continued your articulation.

Nevertheless, the act that has happened made Jaskier and Cirilla's breaths hitch because they couldn't believe that it just happened in front of them like it was nothing.

It looked like Geralt has handled the situation well and you were suddenly okay. Just like that. A peculiarity of an event that they couldn't understand.

You've straightened your back and held your hopes high, dubiously taking a trek till you were in front of the people who were nice enough to give you shelter despite of not knowing you from the start; with a goodwill to even save you from an Alghoul that appeared out of nowhere when you should've died already when Geralt wouldn't have jumped into the picture.

But, no. You were still alive and you didn't know if it was a good thing or a bad thing as the protection came with a fair trade to be living in the world that they were in. A world where you still believed was in earth because of how human they appeared and felt. The only fragment that could keep you in doubt was the monsters that emerges out of nowhere and the magic that these people have been saying. A magic that can't be seen with the naked eye because you haven't seen a supernatural phenomenon yet.

Geralt gave a gravelly hum once you've settled your short self before him, the height differences apparent to the perspective of people. Geralt had his Herculean body in an assertive stance, broad-shoulders poised as you peered up at him with forlorn, the upset frown etched upon your face and he couldn't help but breath through his nose to compose himself.

"I need to go back, I gotta go back. Aren't you a witcher? Can't you cast a spell and help me?"

Jaskier and Cirilla had their forehead creased as they stared at the two. The beautiful child completely unaware of where you originated. She was deep in thought, thinking you came from any of the kingdom or if you were mutated as well just like Geralt because as been said by the witcher, you didn't belong in their world.

The man with glowing Aurum eyes sighed, "Witchers..don't work that way," he claimed with a slant of his head, eyeing you with gall and a slight pacified demeanor after losing his patience a while ago, "---I slaughter beasts, not brew the Fillet of a fenny snake with an eye of a newt nor cast a spell while mixing tons of shit in a cauldron like you thought I was,"

His disclosure was enough to make your heart fail from having faith again. It seems like every darn time he opens those luscious damn lips of him leaves you in a crestfallen shape or he just seems like the type to not give you hope with positive things like this which is why he was failing no matter if he wanted to give comfort.

You've washed your face with your hands in frustration, the fear rising for the second time this day and felt Geralt's heated stare on you, eyes shining in baffling fascination no matter how phlegmatic he wanted to appear. You can just see it in his eyes and it was odd because you've remembered how you couldn't read him like a book the night before, yet here you were; understanding how he tries to interact with you.

"Then, who can help me? Is there a portal or some sort?"

His eyes looked away for a moment; deeply dwelling a thought inside his head. "Sorcerers create portals of natural phenomena and places that actually exist," the Witcher began roughly, voice utmost in the lowest timbre he could ever do and it almost made your body vibrate from his pitch, "---However, most sorcerers can only link portals to the world they're familiar with and that occurs in having the same witchcraft that a certain world creates," Geralt landed his bright eyes on you as he continued to ponder. An inevitable glower stamping his face as he went on with more information and a tight grimace, "---we aren't exactly certain about your world. But, the contingencies of casting a portal that should've been left untouched can cause upheaval or chaos not just to both worlds, but to the natural habitat and the future as well,"

Your frown was cut short, changing into an ample amount of confusion because of his explanation. Simply to say, the chances of creating a portal will jeopardize not just their world, but also earth as well. If you'll be wanting to cast a portal, there was a great amount of risk ahead.

Geralt continued his vouch, still engrossed at looking you in the eye like he wanted you to melt into a puddle. Your traitor of a heart skipping a beat as you've avoided his eyes and looked elsewhere, "---Which definitely leaves insignificance as to why you're lost in our world when there was no witchery encompassing that earth you call your kingdom,"

"So, there's no hope then?" you pointed out, sapless.

"It takes risks, Midget." Geralt lowly enunciated, the gravel in his voice seeming coherent as he mentioned the nickname he calls you. He looked to the ground, mind wandering off Wonderland as a scowl began to form again, like the next thing he wanted to say should've been kept and not mentioned ever again, "---And a very powerful sorcerer,"

Jaskier's ears perked at that, speculating and trying to involve himself with the topic at hand, his tongue waiting to be moved and for words to be told for reiteration, "Or sorceress," the bard boasted with a tone that made the witcher hiss back at him with contempt.

"Yennefer of Vengerberg could do the job well or some of her associates," the bard jested with a soft push of his elbow to Geralt's ribs, though it didn't even made him flinch. His nose flared back at him, giving him the stink eye before cussing him beneath his breath.

"Fuck off, Bard."

Cirilla ignored their laser eyes and tried to join in the conversation, "Who is Yennefer? I've been asking this since the last two last years!" she pondered, hesitantly raising her hand as if asking the teacher if it was time for her to spit out questions.

"Someone you shouldn't know, Cirilla,"

So, there was really hope. Even only a fourty-five percent of that aspiration you needed for your heart to be filled with faith. You nodded to yourself in understanding, leaving those other questions inside your head and asked straight to the point, "Who is Yennefer?"

Jaskier stepped a foot close, officially involving himself in the conversation with a smug grin on his face. His hands on his hips as he revealed with no shame, "Geralt's long lost love,"

Geralt had to close his eyes to calm himself down from the bard who kept on interjecting in the talk with you.

The princess of Cintra huffed, stomping a foot on the ground as she fixated her gaze at the huge trunk of a man who seemed to be having a moment of meditation, "You didn't tell me you had a lover!"

"Not anymore," Geralt grumbled more so to himself as the crowd asked questions after questions and served their opinions on a buffet plate; open for everyone to hear.

You innocently cast a look to his face. He could also feel your eyes on him and when he'd fluttered them open; it was completely pure for his irksome heart to fall in tranquil, "She's the one of the most powerful sorceress I know," he subtly breathed in your scent, masking himself with it as he tries to remember it in the back of his mind. Becoming familiar to the strong scent that makes his thoughts go in a haywire. A sharp, palpable and fresh scent that he ought and needed to ingurgitate straightaway. Lemon with a hint of peony; definitely different from the scent that Yennefer had, Lilac and Gooseberries. "---Maybe the only one who could create an enigma of a portal," the witcher more so than grumbled, face twisting in a way that made you look up at him in question because he seemed to be in pain, "Then? What are we waiting for? We should find her!"

The mere mention of a person who could help you leave their world quickly placed a warm beam lifting your lips, a sight that Geralt has been struggling to forget since last night. His eyes wandered off elsewhere, missing the catch of your bright filled ones as his nose scrunched from how overwhelming it was to be close to you.

"That's the problem," he gurgled before taking a step back, hissing beneath his breath because of how he was starting to become frustrated again, "---she's nowhere to be found," before turning his back away from you with a grumble.

You watched him walk away from you, embracing all his negativity and feeling your heart plummet because he was acting far from the welcoming man last night. It was like it has never been him that was offering to cover your wounds as he knelt in front of you, all the more; giving you a small smile despite of it not being his forte in doing so.

He was unconventional to you. A book you've definitely wanted to read, yet difficult to understand because the words were such a complex for the naked eye. Geralt was rare and a kind you've never encountered. Literally.

Nonetheless, his presence was intriguing and definitely inveigling.

"I have no hope then," you've thought to yourself, hearing Cirilla and Jaskier banter over something about the sorceress that ignited Geralt's change of heart.

"I'm hungry," Cirilla stressed towards the Bard who was now holding his Lute and plucking with the strings like he was forming another one of his epics inside his head. The bard ignored her and gave Geralt a once over who was on the other end of the cavern, opening wooden cabinets which had all different kinds of concoctions that certainly a normal human cannot take because of how toxic it was and how it was only forbidden and restricted for Witchers.

Cirilla threw a hissy fit, blowing out a breath of agitation and hunger because she was famished. You studied the child and noticed she was a little taller than you no matter how she should've been small. As you've tried to eye-ball her height, she seems to be in between five foot four or five foot three. "What's your name, kid?"

She narrowed her eyes on Jaskier who began to tread to where the Witcher is, "Cirilla," the princess honestly voiced out, palm on her stomach as it grumbled a sound that says she was starving so much.

Cirilla turned her heel to look at you, better than having Geralt stand before you because he was giving you stiff neck from being a tall, brooding man. She eyed you in question and you gave her a sincere smile, waggling your brows at the princess, "I can make food if you want?"

Princess Cirilla jumped on her feet like a child being given candy, clapping her hands in excitement, "Great! A mother figure other than a pair of boys! Geralt and Jaskier make the nastiest food they can ever cook," she jeered with a puff of her breath. Her eyes twinkled in felicity.

She gave you a big wide grin when you've pondered in thought as to what was easy to make in medieval age; questions numbered inside your head and asking no one in particular if their world had chicken? flour? or bread flour, if they didn't have one? Condiments or any kind of spices for taste. Their time had to have chickens and so, you wanted a modern kind of dish to help yourself as well despite of living like in the past, "I can make you fried chicken, if you want? That is, if you can get me chicken,"

"What is a fried chicken?" she'll definitely love it, you thought because she was a child. Seeing her smile go bright just from hearing it made you heart coo; or it was simply a new image rather than those scowls you have been seeing since the morning has started so the kid had a soft spot in your heart. "An unhealthy dish, but definitely scrumptious,"

You turned your head towards the men who were a little bit far from where you both stood, they were talking in silence and that was completely pristine than the banters you've heard non-stop last night, "---And also a healthy viand for these boys you have,"

Jaskier continued plucking on his Lute, strumming random notes as he hummed inside his head, he gave you and Cirilla a glimpse as the bard watched you both interact with each other like you were both long lost friends, like a natural bond slowly being created, "Maybe this cuckoo of a maiden isn't actually bad to have around," he decreed with a look of sympathy. Turning his head to look at Geralt who seemed to have a furious staring contest with his potions.

"---You should help her, Geralt."

The Witcher languidly blinked, partially shutting the wooden cabinet closed and noting that he was deficient of Cat elixir, a concoction to help him grant sight in total darkness, some Black Blood and Fiend concoction that helps him increases the amount of weight that he can carry without being overburdened. Geralt sighed at Jaskier's confession.

"Do I have a choice?" he gurgled back at the bard.

"Won't a djinn help?"

Geralt gave Jaskier a once over before taking a glimpse of you and Ciri who were now sitting on the table, chatting about certain things that can entertain the princess. Jaskier finally had the tune he wanted, a simple catchy tune but different from his song about Witchers. It just had the same style, "I've already took it down into consideration," the bard hummed, completely intrigued and gave him a look, "We can take risks,"

Jaskier ceased himself from humming, the voices of women giggling in the background coming along in their conversation. The ambiance changing into a lighter tone from the moment you came into their cavern. A thorough spin of the world like it was changing in the different kind of path; it was like seeing a new color for the rainbow that has been added to complete the beauty of it all.

You just had that specific effect that could create allurement to the world wherever you're in. Hence, that was probably your magic.

"But, are you willing to take it, Witcher?"

He was taken aback by the question, a question even asked as a question inside his head. Was he really willing to take the risk in helping this midget? another person on his hand to protect and help? Will it not slip apart due to unfortunate circumstances? Geralt calmly breathed through his nose, his facial features slackening when he'd seen Cirilla's eyes twinkling again despite of what she has been through. "I've been through hell and maybe even deeper than that. Probably already met the devil with it,"

Geralt slanted his head in a way to adore the image right in front of him; though with a face that seemed to be lackadaisical, "---This woman hasn't experienced what I have, not even the slightest and I don't want her to," he suddenly admitted, "---I have no thought as to what curse has this woman been cast upon,"

Jaskier nodded in comprehension and ruth for you; pretty blue eyes admiring the sight before him and Geralt, "Seems quite an unfortunate path,"

"Evil is evil," The Witcher added as a matter of fact, "---Lesser, greater or even stronger," a subtle pause to catch his breath as he eyed you beaming back at what Cirilla has said before he continued, "---She hasn't shielded herself from it, nor does she have an amulet with her; like she was sent here for a reason. She's bound for ill-fate because we're in a world full of animosity and mayhem," Geralt trailed off when you've rummaged for the things in the pocket of your short that was neatly folded on the side of the table.

You've shown Cirilla a small beautiful transparent ball that had rainbow color stars inside. It was a lucky charm for you and it has been given as a gift from your mother back in earth.

"Do you know Jacks and Stones, Cirilla?"

Cirilla's ears perk at that, a perplexed expression written on her face. "The game doesn't ring a bell, Y/N."

Once Cirilla has seen you grabbed onto the small stones on the space below their window and tried to play on your own, her forehead creasing seemed to relax and a look of elation and familiarity run through her face, "I think I actually know it! Isn't it Knucklebones?"

You've caught the ball and the small stone in one hand with no sweat. She eyed the ball and the stones scattered around the table, her eyes gleaming a lot more than she ever did. "I think so! But, here's the catch! Loser gets a slap on the forehead with a finger and the Winner gets two drumsticks of my special fried chicken,"

"---Oh, you're on, Y/N! I'm great at Knucklebones!" she challenged as she abruptly stood on the table, looking right back at Geralt and Jaskier who were already looking in fascination.

Cirilla demanded in blithe. A big, bright smile shining her face, "Geralt, we need chicken! Catch us one!"

At the mention of that, Geralt couldn't help but repeatedly blink at the wishes from the princess; catching him off-guard. Jaskier couldn't help but send a shit-eating grin to the Witcher who had his brows in another kind of twist, his face wanting to wince but he ceased to.

"I'm a Witcher, not a farmer," he deeply mumbled with a sigh. Cirilla blew a breath, her hands on her hips as she sassed, "Aren't you a butcher of Blaviken? Or do they just call you that?"

The Witcher's forehead creased at the mention of one of his monikers. He didn't want anymore retorts because the princess would drop down more comments for the argument that will last for hours till end just for her demands to be taken into account. Thus, which is why; Geralt was shrewd enough to end her pleading with submission.

"Fine,"

He thought that would be the end of everybody's demand when you've suddenly stood up on your seat and waved a hand to get his attention. Geralt gave you a look of query and with a little bit of tenderness in his eyes that you could undeniably feel no matter how stoic his expressions were. You cleared your throat, grinning back at him like a Cheshire cat.

"Can I come with you? Please?"

"No, midget." He strained, the lackadaisical tone lacing at the end of his tongue. His answer was fast and prudent, entirely against the idea.

You just wanted to be familiar with their world when you'll be staying in it for days, maybe even months or badly for years because of how you didn't know the portal they were saying. All you knew on how to transport was cars, airplanes, boats, bikes and even walking would do the job. But, not with magic and scientific luck.

You pouted back at The Witcher, heart falling from the rejection. Sending him the most pitiful look in your eyes and hoping you weren't looking like a waggling goose before them, "Pleaseee, Geralt? I wanna wander in the woods! Be familiar with the place especially that I've probably going to take time before I go back home," pause. "After Cirilla and I play and know who wins and loses,"

Geralt huffed to himself, an incoherent one as he deeply sighed. Jaskier could hear him from where he stood as he adjusted the leather hoop of his Loot across his shoulder, his witcher of a friend's jaw clenching like he was thinking about it deeply. Before granting permission in the end because of how you were giving him those Hirikka eyes; as said by his inner thoughts out in the back.

"Fine,"

The bard wanted anything but to cough out loud from that submission. Jaskier gave him a double-take. An evident look of surprise in his eyes as he turned his soles to point a finger at the Witcher. Geralt was quick enough to shake his head and slap his finger away with the back of his hand.

"Don't...even start, Bard."

"It's been a day and this small rat already has you wrapped around her finger!" he whisper-yelled at his friend, excitement and jest sparking his nerves which got him grinning like the devil.

Geralt glared at the mischievous bard grinning back at him with the knowing look that they can only both understand, "When will you bloody shut up?"

"When I don't have the voice to poetically sing my wonderful epics," Jaskier scoffed, crossing his arms on top of his Lute with that mocking glint in his eyes. The Witcher smirked back at Jaskier, spitting out a particular jest that could get him back-paddling, "Guess I'll need a travel companion in finding another Djinn,”

Jaskier blinked in surprise, taking a step back as he shook his head and had a hand on his hip while the other was wiggling in the air to express his negations, "Oh no no no, Witcher! Keep me out of your heroic attempts of gathering some kind of genie! I am done!" the bard ridiculed as he took hesitant steps back, slowly and slyly taking off before Geralt carries him on his shoulders to purposefully tag him along in finding another Djinn, "I figured playing this jacks and stones with Cirilla and Y/N will be much better instead,"

Jaskier halted from his silent, sneaky egress. Giving both women a glimpse who were playing behind him, "A BARD WISHES TO JOIN YOUR WONDERFUL ADVENTURE, LASSIES!"

He snapped his head back at Geralt who simple wore a crooked smile and a look of mockery filling his perfectly chiseled face, "Off you go, Witcher of the night," the rascal waved him off, a gloaty banter being thrown back to the smug witcher, "I have also yet to create another knightly epic for an intriguing love story that is bound to unfold in the far north of Kaedwan,"

Thusly, Geralt's crooked smile was rapid to fall. His face masking in condemnation when Jaskier began to strum his lute and with a tune that would probably haunt his friend as he tried to sleep through the night.

"Doeful eyes like a dear~ Seems like a Witcher who couldn't bear~,"

Jaskier's singing has made history through different places in the continent and he was never wrong with the epics he'd been orally singing out around which is why this new song he was forming to create would either be a complete disaster, a mere tell-tale or a myth that was bound to end up in the vast veracity of the epic told.

IT’S ALL FUN AND HAPPY NOW. BUT, Y’ALL WILL SEE THE WRATH OF ANGST WHEN THE CHAPTER GOES FURTHER!

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moonasheschevalier · 4 years

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As Sesskagu shipper I must say that it would be amazing if somehow Kagura reincarnated as human and became the mother of twins.

But that discourse over Rin's being a mother is just hilarious.

Stop harrassing people who ship adult Rin with Sesshoumaru.

First of all, do you people got any, at least a single manga frame/anime shot where Rin calls Sesshoumaru her dad? Or Sesshoumaru's calling Rin his daughter? Ofc not. Something like this never happened.

More important Sesshoumaru never was depicted as a pedophile, and I remind you all, that he also traveled with Kohaku too.

Stop calling Rin a kid. She was a kid, but she's human, she's growing up and getting older.

If the cd drama was about the proposal it didn't mean that Rin and Sess engaged right after.

You all consider Sesshoumaru behave like a grown up man, but he and Inuyasha mentally and visually were depicted like what, teens? Those two and other characters were growing up with the audience.

Don't forget that whatever happened in the manga happened in the Feudal Japan. Life at that time was a nightmare, and it was well depicted in the Inuyasha's manga/anime.

I shall remind you, that the age of marriage in Feudal Japan was way more under 15-16 yo, so if Sesshoumaru proposed by the time Rin was about that age, it would be considered as something normal? If Kagome would took Rin to our Era, than yeah, at this time and within the modern society probably it all could be different. But we're talking about the Feudal Japan Era. So stop.

I also remind you that Kagome, 15-16yo girl ended up with Inuyasha, 100yo+ halfdemon but nobody cared, nobody called that pedophilia.

Again, the life at that time in Feudal Japan was a nightmare. Imagine being an orphan who lived and died in the village where you were hated and bullied and then you were rescued and brought back to life 2 times by literally a god, a good spirit, kami, for who time is something that doesn't matter, but your life matters so much they literally are ready to sacrifice everything for you. Someone who is perfect, a hero in your eyes. Just look how every second Inuyasha's fangirl of teens age (and older) is thirsty for Sesshoumaru. So for the whole goddamn army of fangirls it is okay to fall in love with the fictional character but for another fictional character of the same age or at older age it is... a no-no?

Lmao!

As I said, neither Rin or Sesshoumaru ever called each other daugther or father, so stop with the "he was like a daaad to her" crap. Prove me with manga shots that I'm wrong. Until the official info comes out cut it out.

If people ship Sesshoumaru with adult Rin - it is okay.

She never was his daughter. Not by blood or by the bond.

He never was attracted to her romantically or sexually.

She never was attracted to him romantically or sexually.

Because she was a kid before. But.

She can't stay a kid FOREVER.

She grows up and she might develop some feelings for Sesshoumaru later. Can't blame her, he's probably one of the most handsome demons in Inuyasha. And I literally can't blame him for falling in love in the future with the girl who is like the sun??? I doubt that there might even be any other woman who can be closer to Sess, closer than/as close as Kagura or older Rin.

Stop saying that Sesshoumaru was buying Rin's love with gifts like pedophile do.

Rin's an orphan. She had no money, nothing. And Sesshoumaru was responcible for saving a human. Just imagine saving someone and leaving them to die cuz they are homeless/orphans/have no money. Remember he got her a kimono dress as a gift? Even now a real well made kimono's costs as the whole new car. I doubt tho that she would ever sell any gift from Sesshoumaru. But it's something that may help her if she's in trouble when he's not around.

Having one of the most powerful demons as your husband in Feudal Japan means a way better life. The life better than any human empress can have.

As long as it isn't Inuyasha's mom...

Stop saying that by that logic Sess might be a pedo in waiting. As I said, it was never confirmed or shown that he was sexually/romantically attracted to Rin when she was a kid. In cd drama he is talking to older Rin, which indicates that he probably developed feelings for her later. It also might be that she has some feelings too, tho it's not clear for who. Rin and Sessomaru don't live in our Era, they live in feudal Japan. Also, neither Kagome or Jaken are disgussed or unhappy in the cd drama when they hear Sesshoumaru, and Kagome called it a proposal after all. Kagome.

Finally, the time Rin and Sesshoumaru spend together. They probably spent a year together at max. All the time after that she spent with humans, Kagome, Miroku, Sango and the rest. Probably, Sesshoumaru and Rin spent even less time together, less than a year? Wow, that's soooooooo much time to develop father-daughter relationship... no, actually it's not. Way not enough time. By that time Kagome and Inuyasha, Miroku and Sango already are good parents figures for Rin??

Sesshoumaru becomes Rin's ward, guardian, but no dictionary will tell you that it means becoming a father.

A ward, a guardian, a knight in the shining armor.

I don't understand the other half of people here who whenever see male/female relationship call them father and daughter especially when it's never confirmed or their type of relationship is completely different???

Sure, you don't have to ship everything in a romantic way, but as long as whatever you say isn't confirmed officially by mangaka/studio can some people calm down and leave Sessrin shippers, those who ship Sess and adult Rin alone?

As also a Kakasaku shipper I already said this once:

These aren't the relationships about a pedophile and a child. Go, read Genji Monogatari, read how the Prince was a reason why beatiful woman dies and then the prince takes care of her daughter with the thoughts to raise her as his perfect future wife. Now that's gross, even the girl understood that - the authoress depicted too well how awfull the life of women was back at that time.

So, you if see people shipping adult and a kid - seems like those people got a problem.

But if you are against somebody shipping two adults - then it's you who's got a problem. Deserve an instant block.

P. S.

So yeah, whoever reblogs answer this with "imagine shipping/justifying that in 2k20" go do something better with your life, honestly. Scream whatever you want but shipping two adults means shipping two adults. If you still gonna rant how my point of view is ruining your daddy-dauther headcanons which by some strange logic some people consider as something official, canon material without any proof than idk... get help.

#Inuyasha #Anti Sessrin bs #Sessrin

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brooklynboysficrecs · 4 years

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Ria’s Top 10 Shrinkyclinks Fics

I will admit this isn’t my preferred AU -- I won’t immediately jump on a fic just because it’s pre-serum Steve and WS Bucky. I gotta like the plot, or the premise, or be really, really intrigued by the tags, but to be fair, that’s how I am with everything that isn’t Modern Bucky and Cap Steve, so. That being said, I have read some truly fantastic shrinkyclinks stories, and I do very much love Steven “Fight Me” Rogers at his scrappiest. And these fics also tend to feature protective!Bucky which is another personal favorite of mine. Oh, but also: shrinkyclinks generally refers to pre-serum Steve with actual Winter Soldier Bucky, but a lot of people use the tag just to imply body types, and when they say WS Bucky they mean he’s all huge and muscled and sometimes has a metal arm, though that isn’t required. That’s the definition I’m going with as well, so hopefully nothing’s confusing!

1. If Wishing Made It So by leveragehunters. Before I get into anything about the actual fic, let me say this: leveragehunters is probably my favorite stucky writer. Like, hands-down, I read almost everything they write, and they’re big into fantasy stories, which is a great bonus for me personally. So, so, so many good shrinkyclinks fics by them (Even Underneath the Waves, a mermaid AU that features equal amounts of pre- and post-serum Steve, and A-mage-ing Grace with mage Steve are two of my other favorites, and they would’ve been on the list, but I try not to put more than one story per author, ya know? And IWMIS kinda wins out above the others for me, so). This story features jinn!Bucky who finds himself in the baffled hands of Steve Rogers, who is perfectly prickly and stubborn and good. Bucky’s got a terrible past with humans in general (and Hydra in particular, what a shocker) that he and Steve have to overcome as their relationship progresses, but that progression is frankly beautiful to watch unfold. I come back to this story time and time again because of how much I love these versions of Steve and Bucky getting to know one another, learning to trust each other, supporting each other through the worst the world has to throw at them. Plus, there’s a few more stories in this series if you get as hooked as I am, which is always great!!

2. Roots Have Grown by AustinB. I remember reading this and just... completely feeling what Bucky is going through. Not everything -- he’s an agoraphobic veteran, and I can’t relate to either of those, really, but he’s so... awkward about his crush on Steve. And that’s -- that’s relatable to me. But it’s precious, really, how he tries to help Steve even though he’s afraid to actually meet him initially; he becomes Steve’s sort of... anonymous benefactor? Guardian angel with money? Like, it’s definitely a sugar daddy type deal originally but I doubt Bucky would describe it like that. I don’t know, it’s cute, though, and I loved seeing Bucky opening up to Steve as they became closer.

3. Through The Woods by VenusMonstrosa, alby_mangroves. Okay, hear me out: werewolves. I fucking love werewolves in fiction; I mean, not really the romance novels you’ll see in the grocery store, but. Werewolf mythology is one of my favorite things, so seeing it in fanfiction almost always manages to lure me in. And I was so not disappointed with this story! Steve’s living alone in a cabin in the woods, which of course sounds like the opening to a horror movie, but here it leads to love. Werewolf Bucky is both charming and terrifying, to a degree, he’s a wolf, but he and Steve are fantastic together. This is another story that goes in on the trust aspect of their relationship and I for one am a big fan of that. There’s some violence, minor character death and the like, but it’s definitely not undeserved so. If you can handle that (and the sex, because there is sex in this) then I highly recommend this one!

4. The Joy of Little Things by obsessivereader, Sealcat. And so we move from werewolves to dragons. Yup. Dragons. Another of my beloved mythical creatures that I obsessed over when I was kid. Bucky’s capable of shifting into a human in this, but primarily he’s a big ol’ dragon that surprisingly doesn’t want to eat the scrawny sacrifice from the local village. Steve ends up working for Bucky, instead, and from there hilarity ensues. Steve’s obviously wary of Bucky, but Bucky isn’t at all what he’d been expecting, and they grow closer the longer Steve’s staying in Bucky’s caves. There are a couple of stories with Dragon!Bucky, but this is my personal favorite; it’s cute and heart-warming and, well. I just really like it.

5. I Just Want to Love You in My Own Language by agetwellcard, inediblesushi. So this one has Cap!Bucky (Bucky!Cap?) but again, sometimes it’s more about how Bucky looks rather than his role as the Winter Soldier. Anyway, I remember my biggest take away from this story was how adorable Bucky was in his quest to win the affections of sassy Nurse Steve, who patches him up after missions and is probably playing hard to get. Bucky uses terrible pick-up lines, absolutely awful, and he is completely unashamed of that fact. Which is, as I said, adorable. Steve, initially, does not agree with my assessment, but he gets there eventually. After some requisite drama, of course.

6. Tint & Shade by forestofbabel. Oh, god, this one hurt me, I remember that pretty clearly. Bucky is the Winter Soldier in this, and Steve is a 21st century art therapist who just so happens to resemble his late grandfather, Captain Joseph Rogers, who fought in -- you guessed it -- WWII. Like I said in the intro, if I really like the premise of something I’ll usually read it regardless of the configuration of pre-/post-serum Steve and pre-serum/WS Bucky, and this was definitely one of the fics I got into for that reason. Having actual WS Bucky interact with a modern pre-serum Steve is always interesting, given how much they don’t have in common, generally (there isn’t even really the veteran status that modern Bucky sometimes has in fics), and it’s a journey to see how and why they connect. Having Steve resemble his WWII era grandfather caught my attention, and the fic itself made me grateful that I decided to go for it in the first place. This is another one where is trust is key to their relationship, considering the mental/emotional state Bucky is in at the beginning. Very good story overall!

7. Fourth Floor by dirtybinary, mithborien, picoalloe. So dirtybinary has written some amazing stucky fics, which is why I was so excited when I saw this being posted initially (a few years ago, but still). There’s magic! Mystery! Suspense! Some NatSharon! Looking this over, I’m wondering if I should’ve saved it for the Urban Fantasy list I wanna do (and If Wishing Made It So, if I’m being honest) but I do like it for the shrinkyclinks list. The writing is great, the characterization of Steve and Bucky is great, and like, they live in what is essentially a magical apartment complex, so what’s better than that?

8. my heart tells me you are lonely, too by FanGirling. Alright, so I read this one as it was being published, and the slow burn about killed me. You know, in a good way, though. Bucky lives in Steve and his mother’s apartment building, trying to figure out where to go with his life now that he’s broken free of Hydra and gotten his autonomy back. He’s obviously wary, skittish, but he takes a liking to Sarah Rogers when she reaches out to befriend him, surprised anyone wants to be near him let alone take the time to get to know him. Steve... is not so easily sold on Bucky. And I’m not gonna spoil anything here, but the shit these two go through is intense, and I cried a lot during this fic, sometimes out of frustration because they’re both ridiculous about their feelings (of course Bucky’s fears are valid, the man has been through literal hell, but also I was internally screaming a little as Bucky continually talked himself out of getting closer to Steve.) I wanted to wrap the both of them in about thirty blankets for pretty much the entire length of the fic. God. They’re just -- they’re so incredibly sweet in this one, once they work past their issues (Bucky and Steve are both more than a little messed up from their respective circumstances, but they make it work). Mind the tags on this one, also, especially because there is a chapter that deals with attempted sexual assault against Steve (obviously not with Bucky!), but Bucky handles the situation before anything truly nasty happens, that I can promise.

9. Local Raccoon Befriends Angry Chihuahua by charlesdk. This is yet another author I really love; they have a fantastic farmer!Steve/Modern!WS!Bucky story that I love to bits, as well as other great fics. But anyway, this one. The title sold me the second I saw it, honestly, I can’t even pretend that wasn’t the deciding factor in me reading this. I don’t think I can really do any better than the summary in explaining why I recommend it; feisty tiny Steve and lovestruck grumpy Bucky are a winning combination in my book. This one does feature the boys dealing with homophobia and ableism, though I can’t recall how severe it is. So I’d just mind the tags, and if you’re alright with them, thoroughly enjoy this story.

10. The Road to Hell is Paved with Tony’s Good Intentions by pinlilli. Bucky as a mail-order Russian bride. That’s the detail that pretty much demanded I click on this fic, and oh my god, it was even better than I ever could’ve expected. Tony, in a bid to help Steve get over his awful ex-boyfriend (fuck Brock Rumlow in every universe, honestly), literally orders him a husband -- in the form of beefy James Barnes, who is a fucking gem and I will not hear one bad word against him. He does chores, it’s lovely and adorable, and you will definitely fall just as hard as Steve does. There’s some canon-typical violence in this one that relates to James’ past, but nothing super graphic as far as I remember. Again, Rumlow is a dick and should be treated as such, but he’s hardly the most important part of this fic and I urge everyone to take a look at it if they’re as intrigued by Bucky being a mail-order husband as I was.

#stucky #stevebucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #captain america #winter soldier #chris evans #sebastian stan #fic rec #shrinkyclinks #top 10

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blessed-but-distressed · 4 years

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#FindEmmaSwanAFriend

Feeling left behind by her more successful, settled friends, Emma Swan moves to Scotland on a whim. Sure, she’s winning at Instagram, but something is still missing from her new life. Fortunately, her friends back home are on it. #FindEmmaSwanAFriend goes viral. Enter Killian Jones, reluctant columnist, who is on the hunt for his newest subject, and may just have found her. CS AU

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also on ff.net and ao3

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Tagging: @katie-dub , @wholockgal , @kat2609 , @whovianlunatic, @optomisticgirl, @ladyciaramiggles, @the-lady-of-misthaven, @emmaswanchoosesyou, @ilovemesomekillianjones, @biancaros3, @cigarettes-and-scotch-whisky, @ms-babs-gordon @ab-normality, @andiirivera, @fangirl-till-it-hurts, @onceuponaprincessworld , @natascha-remi-ronin, @kiwistreetswan and whoever else asks me.

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A/N: Part 2 of 2. Surprise, bitch. Bet you thought you’d seen the last of me!

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Killian

How do you feel about improv? ES

Trepidatious. KJ

What if I told you some random just gave me last minute tickets to a Jane Austen inspired improv drag show, and I have a spare? ES

Curiosity alone compels me to say yes. Pleasance? KJ

George Square. ES

Thank fuck. I forgot my umbrella. KJ

If Killian had any sense, he'd approach the month of August the same way Robin did every year. Which mostly amounted to renting his house out to a troupe of Hungarian acrobats for extortionate sums of money and taking off for the south of France, thus avoiding the whole sorry spectacle.

A privilege reserved for those not living out of their older brother's spare room. Nor stuck writing Fringe reviews for his ailing periodical.

He thought his latest was his best yet.

Do you value your time? Your money? Your life? Then walk, don't run, as far from this act as you can. No one this incompetent should be wielding chainsaws, let alone juggling them. I may have been the only one-handed man at the preview, but with this shambolic spectacle set to run for the rest of the week, I expect I won't be the last. 0 stars.

Liam had accused him of being deliberately cruel, but he hadn't seen the show firsthand. The phrase 'culpable and reckless conduct' came to mind. His review went up online, unchallenged.

To his great surprise, his favourite show so far had been the improv show Emma had dragged him along to. It had all the subtle snark and invariable romance of Austen's classic novels, with the added benefit of Emma nearly passing out from laughing so hard. That alone would have justified his five star review, but the cherry on the cake had been when the man dressed as the elderley Dowager had picked August out from the crowd, and made him part of the act.

Killian generally condemned the casual cruelty of audience participation. Indeed, he lived in constant fear of it at every show he reviewed. But when it came for a certain novelist, he found his views on the matter suddenly rather... fluid.

Try as he might, he couldn't see what Emma saw in the man. What hidden virtues he possessed that had provoked such a ferocious loyalty. Killian wasn't stupid enough to voice such thoughts, of course, but that hadn't stopped him trying to figure it out.

The opportunity to continue this study was surely the only reason he'd opened an unsolicited DM from the man himself, when he should have been watching a Swedish comedy troupe send up classic films in a series of skits.

We have a mutual friend in need. How's your schedule looking uhhh… now?

Killian looked back to the stage. He couldn't be sure, but he thought the red streamers might signify blood. They were either up to Carrie or Jaws.

Trouble? Killian typed back.

Emma. The next message read.

We're in a bar in Leith and things have gotten a little… messy.

Killian checked the time. Barely past one in the afternoon. And fucking Leith? That didn't bode well. But at the same time, his review of the show was supposed to be online within the hour.

With a growing sense of unease, he typed out his reply. Which pub?

***

Stepping into The Marksman on Duke Street was not unlike stepping back in time. More precisely, to somewhere smack dab in middle of the Thatcher era, when Leith was a byword for deprivation and whatever comes after heroin chic. It was charmless, grimy and depressing, and Killian might've never understood the appeal until he caught the sign in the window. It opened at 6am.

Trying to avoid the abject stares of the locals, Killian found his quarry sat at the end of the bar on mismatching stools. Emma slumped forward, her face hidden, but August turned around swiftly at his approach, the alarm in his eyes quickly giving way to recognition.

"Oh thank god." August swept off his barstool, his relief so palpable that Killian thought he might hug him. He didn't look well. Thoroughly debauched, if one might say so, and in desperate need of a bath.

"Nice place," Killian remarked drily. "A bit off the beaten path…"

August pinched the bridge of his nose, looking weary. Or… wearier. "It's been a long night. And morning." He glanced back to where Emma sat propped by the bar, apparently still completely unaware of his absence, and drew closer, his voice lowering.

"You know that Graham guy?"

Killian couldn't explain it, but something inside his chest caught. Like flint striking steel. "Aye," he growled, not liking where this was headed.

"Married," August supplied, without preamble. "She didn't know. No one knew. She ran into them holding hands in the Tron. Matching wedding bands. The whole bit. So she threw her beer in his face and called it a day, right? But this morning, no, yesterday morning, the wife showed up. At the apartment. Emma's apartment."

Killian's fist clenched by his side.

"Yeeaah. It got pretty heated. Long story short, it's been a day and a half. I don't even remember how we got here. I'm not sure I even know exactly where here is. I have to be on a train at 4 to King's Cross or my publisher is going to sue my ass. Now, I can trust you? To get her home safely? You look at her like you're half a drink away from belting out Jessie's Girl at any given moment. I didn't imagine that, did I?"

Of all the places to grudgingly admit his feelings, not least in confidence to this man he wasn't sure he even liked, The Marksman was not the venue he would have chosen. And yet.

"There's very little I wouldn't do for that woman."

He was caught by surprise when the man launched forward and kissed him on the cheek, more still when he went back for the other cheek. August grinned enormously, grasping Killian by the shoulders. "Welcome to the family! Please don't fuck it up." And then consulting his phone, "I really need to go."

August made short work of the rest of his goodbyes, pulling Emma into fierce hug from behind, whispering something into her ear as he let her go. Then, with a wink in Killian's direction and a kiss blown at the nearest crusty Leither, he picked up his messenger bag and fled onto the street.

Steeling himself after that prologue, Killian turned back to where Emma sat by the bar, unseeing reddened eyes peeking out from under a tangle of blonde hair. He pulled out August's vacated stool, and took a seat.

"Swan," he began, with an imaginary tip of his cap.

"Jones," she replied, her voice flatter than he'd ever heard it.

"Of all the gin joints…"

She grimaced. Though her frown was so pronounced already, it didn't make much of a change. "We don't talk about the gin."

"At least tell me it was the good stuff."

She tried to smile, but the action seemed to cause her pain. "Don't do that. Don't be nice to me right now."

"Why not? You're not the villain in this story."

A small noise escaped her, half laugh, half sob. "Sure feels like it."

"No, that's the supermarket gin talking. We've talked about this. Nothing good ever came from a clear spirit at 35p a measure."

She sank further forward in her seat, her forehead resting against the bar top. "Don't be cute. Please just leave me alone to die," she mumbled.

He couldn't resist tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, making sure she could see him. "I'm not going to do that. I have a duty of care."

"Why? Because you'd have to find someone else to write a column about?"

"No," he replied levelly. "Because you're my best friend."

That had her lifting her head off the bar, albeit wincing as she did so. "I thought Robin was your best friend?"

He tapped his chin. "No, it's definitely you."

She considered that. Though how much of her internal brain processes had survived the pickling process over the last 24 hours, Killian couldn't be certain.

Of course, it was at that moment their bartender appeared, a middle aged woman with an ill-fitting polo shirt and bright green acrylic nails she drummed against the bar top. "Another top up, hen?" She didn't even glance at Killian.

He put his hand over Emma's glass. "Actually, I'm afraid we're on our way out."

Their server didn't much like that, a hand finding her hip. "Well that's up for the lass to decide, no?"

"It's okay, Tracy," Emma said, managing a consoling smile. "He's a friend. Are we all settled up?"

"We are." She gave Killian a cool once over. "Friend, you say? Mind you keep it that way. Looks like nothing but trouble to me. And you still raw after the last one. Liars and cheats, the lot of them."

Killian thought to take offence, but Emma already had him by the arm, pulling him off his stool. "Thanks, Tracy. Can you call me a cab?"

***

Getting her into the cab took some doing, not least because she had to pause twice to throw up in the gutter, and the first guy had driven off. Fair play to him. Thankfully by the time the second cab arrived Emma's stomach had settled, and she spent the drive curled harmlessly against Killian's side.

"Your lassie alright?" the cabbie asked, as Killian half lifted, half dragged her from the backseat out onto the gravel driveway. "You need a hand?"

It was a testament to how preoccupied he was that Killian didn't even stop to consider that might've been a crack about his prosthetic until Emma was already inside and passed out on his bed.

He texted Elsa first. A simple heads up.

There's an unconscious woman in the house. Don't freak out. KJ

It went about as well as you'd expect.

At least he had sisterly back up when he broke the news to Liam that he wasn't getting his review.

Needless to say, by the time Emma raised her groggy head from his pillow, the house was no longer silent, and it was no longer still. Elsa had insisted on rushing home, and boyish shrieks permeated the air, punctuated by the usual crashing and banging.

Killian sat in his one armchair, an ugly monstrosity of purple velvet which had been forbidden from the rest of the house, sipping his tea as she came awake. It took some time. One eyelid slithered open. Then the other. Never both at the same time.

"Do I want to know why someone is screaming in the next room?" Her voice was scratchy, and he motioned towards the glass of water by the bedside.

"Nephews," Killian said by way of explanation, as she crawled forward to grasp the glass in both hands, shaking with the effort.

She took a long draught, surveying her surroundings. He wondered how much she remembered from the last two days, if anything. If she even remembered his arrival at The Marksman, or August's leaving. She examined the ornate cornices, and floating beams. The collection of spent paperbacks stacked by the bed and the shabby, unmatched furniture.

"Your house. Your room?"

"My room," he confirmed. "We have guest rooms, but they're upstairs. And quite frankly, just getting you this far was nightmare enough. You're heavier than you look."

He earned a pillow to the face for that remark. It still smelled of her, which in her current state, wasn't much of a testimonial.

"Shower?" he ventured.

"Please," she said, rolling over until she could place both feet on the floor.

"Second door on the right. Elsa left some things out. Towels. Fancy shampoo. Paracetamol," he added with a waggle of his eyebrows. "Should be a set of clothes too."

She cringed. "Elsa knows I'm here?"

"Sorry. It's a new house rule of theirs. Radical honesty. Elsa knows you're having a rough time of it, and are convalescing. But that is the extent of her knowledge. Whether that remains the case, is entirely up to you."

"Right."

"Oh," he said, smacking his forehead. He scrabbled around on top of his dresser, before presenting her with a wooden triangle.

She took it automatically, seeming annoyed at herself for doing so. "Uh, thanks?"

"The bathroom door doesn't have a lock on it. Best wedge it under the door. Trust me when I say, you don't want Lachie walking in on you in the altogether. It's stressful for all involved."

"Good tip," she said, with a ghost of a smile.

She edged past him awkwardly to the door, her bare feet silent on the carpet. She'd already slipped into the hallway when her head appeared back around the door.

"Killian?"

"Aye?"

"I'm horrendously hungover so you probably can't tell, but I appreciate, uh…" she waved the wedge around vaguely. "All this."

"Swan?"

"Yeah?"

"I mean this in the nicest possible way, but please do shut up," he said with a wink. "Also, you're taking me out for pancakes after, so don't be too long."

Her eyes narrowed. "Oh, am I just?"

"You are indeed. Best thing for a gin hangover, in my limited experience. And it was very generous of you to offer."

"Very generous," she agreed, dubiously. "And Killian?

"Aye?"

"You're so full of shit. But... I do love pancakes. And one more thing?"

"Hmm?"

She kicked a toe into the carpet, eyes evasive. "You're sort of my best friend, too." Then she disappeared back behind the door, leaving Killian slack jawed.

***

He'd nearly finished two chapters of his book by the time Emma returned from her trip to the bathroom, shower soft and minty fresh.

"Better?" he asked, putting the novel aside.

"Much," she agreed. "Though full disclosure, I think I just used a $300 tube of lotion, and I kinda smell like a baby Porsche."

"The very best kind of Porsche," Killian assured her, offering her his prosthetic to take. "They're terrors once they hit the teenage years. Shall we?"

They crossed Bruntsfield Links just after sunset, the sky still streaked with pink and orange. He'd always loved summers in Scotland, that neverending twilight. It almost made shivering through six months of winter worthwhile. He was so busy admiring the scene, he nearly missed it when Emma detached herself from his arm, stopping in her tracks.

"Emma?"

She was standing entirely still, her eyes shut.

"Are you alright, love?"

Her eyes flickered open, almost surprised to see him still standing there. "Sorry, just… cataloguing."

"Cataloguing," Killian repeated, deadpan.

"Yeah, smartass," she said, walking forward to loop her arm under his again. "Cataloguing. Sometimes I forget, but this-" she indicated the kaleidoscope sky, the green-gold expanse of grass disappearing into the distant smudge that was Arthur's Seat, the group of laughing teenagers nearby trying to finish their mini golf game before they lost the light, "-Sometimes I still have to pinch myself."

She didn't elaborate, and Killian found himself oddly lost for words. He just reached over to squeeze her hand, and led her back towards the city lights.

For the time of year, they got lucky. The line was short, and it wasn't long before they were led to a red vinyl booth, complete with its very own mini jukebox. They both stared at it for a good minute before Emma fished a spare pound out of her pocket, and dropped it onto the table between them. "Your call. I'm going to the bathroom. Anything but Don't Stop Believin'."

Lord help him, but he thought he might love her.

He settled for a less foreboding tune, which morphed into another, then another, before he was fishing out his own coins to keep the party going. If he didn't know her any better, he might've thought she'd done a runner on him. Fortunately, he did know her better. Or at least, he was starting to.

She came back just in time for the guitar solo in The Chain, her I'm-bearing-up smile indicating she was doing nothing of the sort.

"Ruby texted," she explained, taking her seat opposite him. "About twenty times. She wouldn't stop until I FaceTimed her. I miss anything?"

"Just side one of Rumours. And your drink order." He indicated the glass of fizzy orange liquid in front of her.

She wrinkled her nose. "Fanta?"

"Irn-Bru. Best hangover cure there is."

She cast him a doubtful look.

"I'm serious. There's been studies."

"Oh well, if there's been studies." She slid the glass minutely closer, but didn't partake. Instead she watched as Killian lifted his own glass, and made a face.

He lowered his glass. "What?"

"Nothing. Just thinking about how I'm never drinking again. I didn't even know they served beer here."

"They do, but this is Dry Ginger."

She raised an eyebrow. "Ginger ale? You?"

Killian shrugged. "It's something I'm trying. Like a cleanse. But instead of drinking juice and doing yoga, I drink post-mix dry ginger and be less of a twat."

"Sobriety." Emma slapped her hand against the table. "I wish I'd thought of that. But I've barely seen you, when did you decide this?"

"Roughly…" he counted back the days, "43 days ago." When I thought I'd lost your friendship forever. But he didn't have to say it. From the look on her face, she already knew the significance.

"Huh." Emma sat back in her seat, absorbing that. But if she was planning on expanding on that thought, she was saved by the arrival of their waitress, who was all too eager to expound on the daily specials.

By the time they were alone again, Emma had cracked and was halfway through her Irn-Bru.

"I mean, it's not repellent…" she offered, by way of grudging approval.

"Trust me, it works." And then because he felt like they'd danced around it long enough, "So do you want to talk about it?"

She set down her glass, letting her fingers trace along the edge of the table top. "Nope. But somehow I feel like we're going to anyway."

"It was only about eight hours ago you wanted me to leave you to die in Leith's most depressing pub. I feel like it warrants at least a conversation."

She grimaced at the memory. Or perhaps where the memories ought to have been. It was hard for him to be sure.

"I fell in love with a married woman once. If you're worried about my judgement, you needn't be."

He wasn't quite sure where it had come from. This sudden urge to talk about Milah. But it was how they'd always operated, wasn't it? If he wanted Emma to take down her walls, he had to offer up a few bricks from his own. Well, this was more of a boulder, really, but at least he had her attention.

She snorted. "I wasn't in love with Graham."

"So what's the problem?"

"Because," she reasoned, tears springing into her eyes. "It's just so fucking mortifying. To be played for a fool, again. I thought I was smarter than that. I thought I could just, I don't know, flirt with a cute, intelligent guy and feel good about myself for five fucking seconds without it ending with his wife beating down my door demanding to know if I'd fucked her husband!"

She'd gotten a little loud towards the end there, with more than a few wary eyes glancing their way. Killian quickly stood up, and made his way over to her side of the booth, slipping in beside her. It was a tight fit, but it did succeed in sheltering her from most of the stares.

"Alright, so he's a tosser."

Another snort.

"Liam's bookie knows a guy. I could make a few calls?"

She shot him a sideways glance. "Don't tempt me right now. I just feel so stupid. But like, in an angry way."

"You're not stupid for being taken in by him. It's not a weakness to want to see the best in people, Emma. In fact, considering how many people in your life have disappointed you, myself included, I'd say it's pretty bloody brave."

Emma shook her head. "Is it though? I saw red flags. Even from the start he was kind of flaky. I wasn't even sure if I really liked him. It just appealed to my vanity, that he seemed to like me. So don't I deserve this? Just a little?"

"No." Killian wasn't sure where the vehemence came from, but he could feel it, welling up. "No, you don't deserve to be lied to, and dragged into the middle of someone else's messed up marriage without your knowledge or consent. No, you don't deserve being made to feel like the side-piece. You're not the side-piece. You're the heroine. And he's just a fucking wanker. What you deserve..." He looked up to see their server approaching the table, platters piled high with maple syrup topped goodness. He shot Emma a smile. "What you deserve, is pancakes."

***

It would've been remiss of him not to foot the bill, after his earlier declaration about her deserving pancakes, so there'd been a little bit of an argument about that as they wended their way down Clerk Street in the growing darkness. That Emma could argue about not paying for the pancakes he'd goaded her into in the first place, was a testament to the healing powers of Irn-Bru and a triple stack. No truly hungover person would have committed to such a futile battle.

But when they arrived at the beginning of her street, Emma stopped arguing and grabbed a hold of Killian's arm, pulling him up short.

She was shaking her hands out, like she was fighting off an attack of nerves, and Killian was instantly on the defensive. "Swan?"

She stopped when he said her name, plastering on what seemed to him a rather brittle smile. "Hey. Sorry. I'm just wondering, would you do me a favour?"

He had to chuckle at that. "Swan, if the last twelve hours have proven anything, it's that yes, I am available for favours. Unless of course they involve you paying me back for the pancakes. Because I'm afraid I'm rather immovable on that front."

"Great. So umm… Ruby has this theory."

"Ruby has a theory?" he repeated, hoping at some point, things would start making sense. "What manner of… theory?"

"Oh, god this is so stupid," she said, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I'm just going to say it. I'm just going to come right out and say it: I want you to kiss me."

Something very violent was happening inside Killian's chest, a feeling which was neither happiness, nor disappointment, but a crushing combination of the two. He felt hot and cold. He felt light-headed.

"You want-" he started.

Emma's eyes were screwed shut, as if bracing for a blow. Or in this case, the fallout. She already had regrets. And more than that, it had been Ruby's idea. But why would Ruby…?

Of course.

The best way to get over a man, was to get under a new one. Wasn't that the old adage?

It wasn't about him. It wasn't about them.

No, she'd been clear. I want you to kiss me. She'd chosen him. She trusted him to be the one to soothe her wounded pride. Maybe she'd hoped it would be him. Maybe he was just the most convenient option. In any case, the wondering would certainly kill him.

But not as much as going through with it.

He reached out and took her hand, waiting until she opened her eyes. By Christ, people weren't supposed to look so beautiful by yellow street light. It wasn't scientific. And yet.

"No."

Now it was her turn to look like someone had punched her in the stomach.

"Oh." She made to release her hand from his, but he held firm. In fact, he pulled her closer, just a little.

"No, I'm not going to kiss your bruised pride back into place. Because I promise you, it's going to heal just fine on its own. You don't need a kiss from me or anyone to remind you what you're worth. You never have. It's one of my favourite things about you. Understand?"

Her reply was a little choked up when it came. "Got it."

She gravitated closer, her eyes shining, and he felt like he was losing his mind. He was certainly losing his nerve. He settled instead for raising her hand to his lips, brushing a soft kiss across her knuckles.

"That's one for the road."

He released her then, though nearly every part of his was screaming at him to do the opposite. Thankfully, she looked just as shaken as he felt. He nearly twisted his ankle in a gutter trying to put a little distance between them. And then he had one perfect surge of stupid confidence, and turned back to face her. She was still standing under the streetlight where he'd left her, looking oddly incomplete.

"Will you do me a favour, Swan?" he called out.

She held up her hands in a helpless shrug. "Sure."

"When the time is right, ask me again."

Then with his heart hammering a million miles a minute, he turned away and slipped into the adjoining street, and back into the night.

#cs ff #cs au #findemmaswanafriend #the emotional return #been a while...

61 notes · View notes

jimimn · 3 years

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HI ITS ME WHO'S NOT OVER JJK BLONDE SELFIE AND WILL NEVER BE -💫

HELLLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO <33333333

HONESTLY ITS THE WAY YOH SAY SUCH NICE THINGS AND I DISAPPEAR FOR DAYS ON END BECAUSE INCONSISTENCY BLEEDS INTO EVERY CORNER OF MY LIFE FNEKALKD BUT I'M GETTING DONE WITH MY FIRST LEG OF EXAMS ON MONDAY SO YAY TO THAT!! OKAY I THINK WE'LL MOVE SLOWLY WITH BABY STEPS JUNGKOOK DROPPED SOME SELCAS JIMIN DROPPED SOME SELCAS IN THE WORDS OF THE LEGENDARY JEON JUNGKOOK ALL WE NEED NOW IS "together..BAM!" (THAT'S LITERALLY ONE OF MY FAVORITE MOMENTS EVER THE WAY HE SAYS IT 🤧)

YES IN THIS HOUSE WE SCREAM OVER JIMIN'S DISRESPECT HE IS THE PARAGON OF A MULTI-FACETED MAN THAT HAS US WRAPPED AROUND HIS FINGER. THE AUDACITY 😤

CHANEL X JIMIN LETS MAKE IT HAPPEN AND OMG THAT SELFIE THAT DROPPED?? SIR???? WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL?? I MEAN YES BH SAID LET'S DROP SELFIES IN BULK BUT THAT ONE PICTURE OF HIM IN BLACK(GREY? I DONT KNOW FHSKKAJF) WITH THE SHIRTS UNBUTTONED!!! THEM COLLARBONES ARE FREE AND THEY'RE THRIVING IN THE OPEN IN THAT ONE. ALSO HIS LIPS ARE SO PRETTY. OH GOD LITERALLY HE HAS THAT COCKY SMIRK ON HIS FACE WHEN HE KNOWS HE DOES HOT BOY SHIT LIKE SHUT UP OK YOU CANT DO THAT JAIL FOR U NDNSLSKAJJW

SUCH A FUCKING TEASE THATS RIGHT!! EVEN STRAIGHT MEN?? BRO LIKE HOW DO YOU HAVE ALL GENDERS JUST TRIPPING OVER THEMSELVES FOR YOU IT'S INSANE AND OMG MISS SHIVI HAVE YOU SEEN THAT ONE CLIP IN WHICH JIMIN HOLDS HIS GAZE WITH THESE MEN WHO LOOK AT HIM (i think it was bon voyage?) and when they cross each other he JUST SMIRKS AND RUNS HIS HAND THROUGH HIS HAIR LIKE YEAH OK ALEXA PLAY I'M SEXY AND I KNOW IT. AND YES I'LL LISTEN TO EVERYTHING YOU HAVE TO SAY ANYTIME 💗💗

12PM KST IS THE HOLY HOUR I TELL YOU ALTHOUGH I REMEMBER WAITING THE NIGHT BEFORE BE CAME OUT WAITING FOR SOMETHING TO COME AND BH WAS JUST LIKE "yea...no" OMG THAT'S AWESOME YOUR COUSIN'S VISITING YOU

HHFJDOSO YEAH IT'S BEEN A WHILE SINCE THEY DID THE JUMP ALTHOUGHHHH I'M POSITIVE THEY'LL DO SMTH COOL LIKE THAT IN THEIR CONCERTS BECAUSE THEIR PERFORMANCE QUALITY IS JUST.. THROUGH THE ROOF IT'S CRAZY!! WHEN THE PERFORM WINGS?? LIKE HOLY SHIT NO CHOREO NO POSITIONS JUST BTS RUNNING AROUND THE STAGE MAKING THE CROWD GO FERAL I LOVE EVERY WINGS PERFORMANCE SO MUCH MY SEROTONIN LEVELS ARE ALWAYS AT A HIGH THEN. OOHH MY GODDD BS&T IS REALLY THAT BITCH!!!! WHO'S DOING IT LIKE HER TODAY NO ONE IS EXACTLY. AND NOOOO I TOTALLY GET IT WE THINK ON THE SAME WAVELENGTH THAT ACCIDENT HAS THE SAME EFFECT ON ME. IF ONLY YOU'D TOLD ME THEN IN 2016 THAT THAT ACCIDENT WAS THE START OF SO MANY I'D BE PREPARED FOR EVERYTHING THAT FOLLOWED (see: him basically stripping himself that one serendipity performance. holy shit.)

FOR REAL THO CHRISTMAS LOVE DROPPED OUT OF NOWHERE AND DO YOU REMEMBER JIMIN SAYINF uUH iM nOt wORkInG oN a SoLo SoNg aT ThE mOmEnT heHe LIKE ALL MEN DO IS LIE OK AT THIS POINT. BYE. YES TAEHYUNG DID WARN US BUT ARMYS (LIKE MYSELF) PUT THEIR CLOWN WIGS ON AND THOUGHT IT WAS KTH1 LMAO. OMG I HOPE YOU DON'T SLEEP THROUGH ANY OF THEIR UPCOMING SONG RELEASES BUT I'M SURE IT'S THE BEST FEELING TO WAKE UP TO CHECK YOUR NOTIFS AND SEE "Big Hit Labels" BECAUSE THAT'S HOW YOU KNOW IT'S GOING TO BE FIREEE. DUDE SERIOUSLY I NEED JIMIN TO GO LIVE AGAIN (although we've been well fed by namjoon for now🤧😌💗) LIKE THAT ONE YT LIVE WHERE HE SAID "O...M...G" SHUT UP STOP BEING SO CUTE I'M DHJSWLIFJWKALS

LMAO OKAY YEAH THAT'S VALID YOUR BLOG THEME IS BASICALLY ✨jimin✨ AND I LOVE THAT IT REALLY GRAVITATED ME AND YOUR URL OH MY GODDDDDDDDDDD YOUR BRAINNN 💆‍♀️💆‍♀️💆‍♀️💆‍♀️💆‍♀️

YES YES YES JIMIN IS SO PERFECT AND THE SOCK DOODLESSS 😭😭😭 oooo so when did you get into giffing? how did you start? BROOOOO YOUR URL'S ORIGIN STORY. I LOVE IT WOW YES IT'S DEFINITELY GOT THE REQUIRED ✨pazzaz✨

NOOO OMG THIS URL IS YOUR BRAND LIKE YOU'RE A LEGEND ON ARMYBLR I LOVE IT SO MUCH. BUT STILL!! IT'S YOUR CHOICE AT THE END 💖

OMG QUARANTINE DID IT'S ONE GOOD JOB AND GOT YOU INTO BANGTAN YAY. OMG YOU AND MISS LIFEGOESMON ARE FRIENDSS??? LEGENDS INTERACTING THIS IS SO COOL. LMAO THE PARADIGM SHIFT YOU MUST'VE FELT FROM LISTENING TO STAY GOLD (WHICH BTW THE MV...THE LITERAL CUTEST OH GOD THE LITTLE DOG AND JIMIN'S LITTLE SMILES DHSJAOWO) TO THEN GOING TO BST IN WHICH JIMIN IS BASICALLY STRIPPING AND JUNGKOOK IS UPSIDE DOWN LMAOOO. YES BS&T HAS EVERYONE HOOKED THE POWERRRR. YOU FALLING DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE WITH YOUR FRIEND'S ASSISTANCE OH GOD THIS IS SO CUTE 💓 EVERYTHING ABOUT THEM 🥺🥺🥺

AAAAH OKAY MY STORY ISN'T AS INTERESTING AS YOURS IS BUT IN 2016 BASICALLY ALL I KNEW OF KPOP WAS GANGNAM STYLE AND WASNT WILLING TO CUANGE THAT PERCEPTION (FOOL BEHAVIOUR I TELL YOU) AND WAS TOO BUSY OBSESSING OVER ONE DIRECTION'S REUNION AND SO ONE NIGHT (THE NIGHT BEFORE JIMIN'S BIRTHDAY 🤧🤧) I JUST STUMBLED UPON THEIR BS&T TEARS MV AND I HEARD IT AND I WAS LIKE OMG!! THIS IS THAT SUPER ADDICTIVE SONG THAT I'D HEARD SOMEWHERE AND IT JUST SPIRALLED FROM THERE I REMEMBER SEEING JIMIN AND BEING LIKE 👀👀👀👀 WHO IS HE I LIKE HIM AND JUST HIS AURA DREW ME IN SOOO MUCH AND WHEN I WAS GETTING INTO THEM I REMEMBER WRITING THEIR NAMES IN MY NOTES TO SEE IF I COULD REMEMBER 🤧 AND I STILL HAVE THAT NOTE FROM 4+ YEARS AGO 💓 AND YEAH BASICALLY SEEING THEM DO ALL THE MUSIC SHOWS AND STUFF AT THE TIME WAS SO COOOL AND MIND YOU BH DIDN'T HAVE SUBS FOR BANGTAN BOMBS THEN SO WENT ON THESE SKETCHY DAILYMOTION TYPE SITES LOOKING FOR ALL THE CONTENT I COULD CHURN OUT LMAO

AND YES!! COURTESY OF YOU I DID WATCH SOME RUN EPS!! I WATCHED THEIR CANADA ONES SPEAKING OF WHICH I LOOOVE THAT PART WHERE THEY'RE DOING THAT SONG GUESSING THING IN THE MORNING AND JIMIN SAYS "are you cold?" 🥺🥺 TO TAE AND HUGS HIM URRHRHEHSJSJSH AND I ALSO SAW THE ONES WITH THE PUPPIES GODDDDD I LOVE THE PUPPIES ONE SO MUCH LITERALLY JUNGKOOK AND HIS DOG (MIRI?) OH MY GOD THAT LIL FLUFFER AND ADAM IS MY ICON WITH HOW HE JUST DID HIS OWN THING LMAO.

BUT ANYWAY!! DO YOU HAVE A FAVE ERA?? LIKE DO YOU EVER LOOK AT THEM AND GO "Damn I wish I was a fan then" BECAUSE HONESTLY I WISH I HAD STANNED THEM IN THEIR DOPE ERA BUT I DON'T THINK I WOULD HAVE SURVIVED JIMIN THEN DHKSOWID-💫

FOR THE UMPTEENTH TIME!!!!!!! ITS OKAY!!!!!!!! I TOTALLY TOTALLY UNDERSTAND!!!!! AND YAYYYYY CONGRATS I HOPE THE FIRST LEG OF EXAMS WENT WELL <333333 AND OH MY GOD you’re gonna make me cry with the together baam goddddddd same one of my fave moments and jimin’s giggles after that 😭😭😭😭 my babies <3 :((((

that..... black suit selca....... that opened button...... like open one more dear sir who’s stopping you... just do it <33333 YEAH he totally needs to shut up with his i know im hot side it just kills me every single time 😭😭😭😭😭

LISTEN THAT BV3 MOMENT S H O O K ME OKAY????? THOSE GUYS LOOKED AT HIM AND HE WAS SO FUCKING SMUG ABOUT IT (AND HE SHOULD BE) AND THE WAY HE LICKED HIS LIPS AND RAN HIS HANDS THROUGH HIS HAIR????? LIKE HE KNOWS HE HAS EVERY SINGLE PERSON; NO MATTER WHAT GENDER; WRAPPED AROUND HIS LIL PINKY LIKE THAT???????

OH MY GOD ME TOO I LOVEEEEEEEEEEE THE WINGS STAGE AND WATCHING THEM HAVE SO MUCH FUN IS JUST SO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND I ALSO ABSOLUTELY LOVVVEEE THEIR ENERGY DURING THE SY TOUR MEDLEY WITH IDOL AND BAEPSAE AND FIRE AND DOPE ZSXDFGFCHGVJBHJN THEY JUST LOSE THEMSELVES IN THE CROWD AND THE MUSIC AND ITS JUST SO FUCKING SURREAL TO WATCH HOW MUCH THEY ENJOY DOING WHAT THEY DO!!!!! kinda makes me want to find that happiness and passion in whatever i do in my professional life <3 and LISTEN jimin said the break the soul commentary THAT HE COULD DO SERENDIPITY SHIRTLESS TOO. THE AUDACITY. HE SAID THAT WITH HIS WHOLE CHEST.

YOU KNWO WHAT I THINK JIMIN WON’T GIVE US A HINT BEFORE DROPPING PJM1. HE’LL JUST DROP IT ONE FINE DAY OUT OF NOWHERE LIKE HE DROPPED PROMISE AND CHRISTMAS LOVE (i wasn’t here when he dropped promise but i read that on twitter sdfghjkl) AND NO PLS NO I DO N O T WANT TO SLEEP THROUGH JJK1 OR KTH1 OR PJM1 OR KSJ1 OR NAMGI MIXTAPE 3 OR HOBI MIXTAPE 2 OR ANYTHING BASICALLY YOU GET IT i had slept through dynamite cb because i had NO CLUE that they were gonna drop it at 1pm kst rather than 12 am kst. i was under the impression that since they dropped all the teaser pictures and the teaser itself as 12 am kst, the mv will drop at 12 am kst too. and I woke up like two hours after the mv dropped (which was almost noon my time) and i felt like A FUCKING FOOL AND I JUST 😭😭😭😭 NEVER WANT TO FEEL LIKE THAT EVER AGAIN 😭😭😭

AND YES BABIE NEEDS TO COME LIVE SOON PLS I MISS HIM SO FUCKING MUCH :((((( AND HIS O...M.....G HAD MADE ME FUCKING SOBBBBBBBBBBB his yt live god he looked sooooooo fluffy with his hair and his tiny hands and his puppy eyes and soft voice im just so 😭😭😭😭😭😭

NO NONNONONONO PLEASE IM NO LEGEND DON’T SAY THAT IM EMBARRASSED im just a normal fangirl who makes okayish gifs 😭😭 and ok yes so i started giffing LONNNGGGGGG time back on a different public fan forum from my country but i never knew the right process and stuff so obviously the gifs were shitty lmao BUT ANYWAY i got into gifmaking PROPERLY this in july last year and obviously struggled a lot in the beginning because i didn’t know shit about colouring and stuff lmao but i kept practicing and even though im not perfect rn i do think that i got better. i love giffing tho. its such a nice creative outlet and whenever i gif the boys it brings me so much happiness :( <33

AND YES ASDFGHJKL ME AND HER ARE FRIENDS SINCE A VERY LONG TIME SDFGHJK LIKE LONG BEFORE BOTH OF US GOT INTO BTS SDFGHJ and ah yes the whiplash lmaooooooo and you’re right god the stay gold mv is SO FUCKING PRETTY THE COLOURS IN THAT ENTIRE MV HELLLOOOOOOOOOOOOOO AND JIMIN AND TAE AND JOON WITH THE DOGGO JUST EVERYTHING SDFGHJK <3333333 AND BS&T DUDE I GIFFED THE MV YESTERDAY AND IM 💀💀💀💀💀 (like i just giffed jimin from the mv but i did watch the whole thing 5647589 times <333333) AND GUESS WHAT!!!!!! I WAS A LILLY SINGH FAN (IDK IF YOU KNOW HER SHE’S A YOUTUBER) BACK IN 2016 AND PEOPLE BACK THEN HAD REQUESTED HER TO REACT TO BS&T MV AND I HAD WATCHED HER REACTION VIDEO AND (although it didn’t stick with me back then because i was a fucking fool) I DID SOMEHOW REMEMBERED THE JIN AND STATUE KISSING MOMENT AND WHEN IN 2020 I SAW THE MV AND SAW THE KISSING MOMENT MY BRAIN JUST!!!!!!!!!!! I WAS LIKE HOLY SHIT I HAVE SEEN THIS BEFORE SOMEWHERE AND THEN I REMEMBERED I HAD SEEN THIS IN THE REACTION VIDEO LMAOOOOO i wish i hadn’t been a fool and gotten into them back then :((((

AH NO OMG YOUR STORY IS SOOOOOOO CUTEEEEEEEEEE ATLEAST YOU WEREN’T A FOOL LIKE ME TO NOT GET ATTRACTED TO BS&T THE FIRST TIME OF SEEING IT!!!! I WANNA HIT MY 2016 SELF LIKE DAMN YOU YOU FOOLISH ASSHOLE AND yes omg how did y’all do the subs thing damnnnnn i can’t imagine

AND YES THE CANADA RUN EPIS ARE LOOOVVVEEEE and that vmin moment plsssssss i cry everytime 😭😭😭😭😭 it is just so soft and innocent and tae’s little smile after jimin just turns around and hugs him 😔😔😔😔 i love soulmates 😔😔😔😔 AND MIRI YES OMG EVERYONE WAS SO IMPRESSED BY THE LITTLE CUTIE AND THE WAY JUNGKOOK JUST KEPT ADORING HER THROUGHOUT MADE ME SO SO SOFTTTT and bro adam is me. i am like that. lazy and un-motivated AF. although if i were a dog and jin were to be my owner i would listen to him so well and jump on him every chance i’d get 😌😌😌

GOD YES RED HAIR DOPE ERA JIMIN 💀 BABIE BUT MAKE IT SEXY 🥵🥵 AND OMG YESDGFHG MY FAVE ERA IS HYYH. ORANGE HAIRED JIMIN. PLS. HE’S EVERYTHING. I WISH I HAD GOTTEN INTO THEM DURING THAT. LIKE THAT ERA IS ..... SOMEHOW SO FUCKING WILD AND STILL SO ASSURING AND CALMING ????? KEEPS ME ROOTED LIKE IDK HOW TO EXPLAIN DFGHJKL AND WINGS TOO DAMN I WISH I WAS HERE TO LIVE ALL THOSE AMAZING ERAS. but even though i wish i had gotten into them earlier... i think i found them when i needed them the most. I was going through a very difficult time last year and they somehow they made me feel so fucking safe and at home that the connection was instant. honestly i’ve never stanned or felt a connection with any celebrity as strong as the one i feel with bangtan. its like... they don’t know i exist but they still know EXACTLY what im feeling and what to say or do at that time to make me feel comforted. Its weird god but its true :((( SORRY I GOT EMO I JUST LOVE THEM A LOT SDFGHJKL

#anonymous #replied #💫

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orbitariums · 4 years

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the man out of time | steve rogers

first ask anon asked: Omg requests are open ☺️. Time Traveler reader meets Steve in the 40s. Steve and her hit it off but she skips around time and just doesn't want to stay, even though she really likes Steve. She goes back to modern time and bumps into Steve again. They are both super confused so they talk to each other again, they still like each other and he ends up learning of her powers and it all makes sense. Sorry for the long paragraph hehe. Hope you are well! 💌 -first ask anon

note: i was sooo fucking excited to write this it just took me a little while!!! of course this request would be your lovely idea first ask anon!! this might not be historically accurate but it is what it is. it's cute n fluffy n funny i hope y'all enjoy :)))

also here’s a playlist i made for it!!! click here ♡

the man out of time | steve rogers + reader

You were really just trying to go back a few years. But your time travel powers worked a little too well. Like, you were fully in another decade - your existence hadn't even been a thought at this point in time. And yet, here you were, decked out in a rockabilly swing dress that you didn't even own. Apparently with time traveling came the plus of looking culturally relevant. Never mind the fact that you didn't know where you were, and didn't know anybody here. At the very least, you knew how to get back. But it would be too dangerous to try going back to the present until a few hours had passed.

So for those few hours, you would be here - in this crowded dance hall, where many were gathered for some type of party. It seemed to be an important party though, because there were lots of people in uniform walking around and many important looking women and men. You remembered that you were, of course, in the 40s, during World War II. Did this mean you were a part of history? Shivers ran down your spine at the thought.

You were leaning against the wall just observing your surroundings, taking it all in. Even if you hadn't meant to get here, that didn't make it any less interesting. A bit stressful? Yes. But your thirst for knowledge, which got you labeled "mad scientist" in your hometown (though really you were just a bookish girl with an insatiable need to know and learn more), overran all your nervous thoughts.

They could only hold you back. You wanted to know so much - to ask questions, socialize, even explore. But you decided that just watching was your best option. You didn't want to cause a glitch in the matrix by talking to someone and running the risk of changing the outcome of history as we know it.

So you were minding your business, leaning against the wall with your foot settled on the wall behind you, gazing around the room. Gazing at history. For years you had only seen this era in black and white, now it was fully blooming in color. It was such a marvel to see.

A deep voice caught you off guard as a man sidled up next to you,

"Parties aren't your scene either, huh?"

Naturally, you responded, because that was your first instinct, forgetting that you weren't supposed to talk to anyone. Still gently gazing out at the crowd of people in front of you, you responded, a distracted smile on your red painted lips,

"You could say that."

You turned to face the man, about to excuse yourself just so you could refrain from talking to him (because again, "possible glitch in the matrix!" your brain screamed at you). And as you turned to face him, it was like his body appeared before his face. He was huge, hulkish, even, almost unnaturally so. His shirt buttons were nearly popping off, and your eyes were doing the same. But his body couldn't possibly be any comparison to his face, his existence.

You doubled back, having to refrain the potential wild reaction of throwing your hand over your lips. Still, you ogled at him in surprise and shock.

Earlier you had suspected that this party was for important people, but what you were seeing now wasn't near anything you could expect. Because standing in front of you now was the Captain America. As in Steve Grant Rogers, the man out of time.

Your heart was racing, and your brain had to take a few steps just to catch up with your body's reaction. Here Steve Rogers was in the flesh, someone you couldn't even imagine speaking to as regularly as this in the present. Someone you could only dream of seeing. And knowing that you were talking to Captain America had you realizing that you were genuinely a part of history. That now, whatever the word "now" meant, you existed in some little compartment in Steve Rogers' huge, not yet frozen, brain.

Was this something that should've worried you? Yes, and it did. You didn't even want to talk to a regular person, now imagine all the things that could happen with you talking to Captain America. A quick calculation in your fast running brain told you that there were endless possibilities, and not all of them were good.

But your shock and intrigue clouded your better judgment, and you were standing in front of him with nothing better to say or do, just stammering.

"Cap-Captain," you breathed out hard, nearly gasping for air. You could only imagine how stupid you must look. You suddenly wondered if your reaction made you look out of place. Then you wondered how out of place you looked to begin with, and suddenly it became a bit hotter, and the collar of your dress felt suffocating and tight. "Captain, Steve. Captain America."

You swallowed hard, and felt your eyes travel down to his nametag bearing the title "Cpt. Rogers." As if he needed one, you almost scoffed. You were somewhere between being incredibly scared and going full on geeky fangirl. You wouldn't call yourself a stan of the present day Captain America, but it was still pretty damn cool to see him, and your naturally nerdy disposition had you fascinated with the fact that you even got this chance.

Steve raised his brows, but had a smile on his face.

"That's me. It's nice to meet you," he put out his hand for you to shake and you took it, your entire body nearly trembling with some electric shock when you felt his strong hand grasp yours in a warm, friendly handshake.

"I'm... shaking your hand. Wow. This is fu-" you cut yourself off, remembering who you were talking to and the conservative nature of the time period you were in, clearing your throat. You also realized that beyond profanity, there was no way in hell you could talk how you normally would in modern times. You'd be found out, or throw everyone off. You continued, "This is amazing. I... really, I can't believe it. It's an honor to meet you."

Glancing around the room, you started to notice that there were signs indicating that this gathering was essentially, a celebration of Steve and the other soldiers. For all your smarts, you had definitely missed a huge clue of where you were.

Steve liked you already. You were a breath of fresh air. Lots of people acted over-excited to see him, but it was different with you. It was genuine, thrilling, and kind of cute. There was something about you. It wasn't off, per say, but it was almost strange, in a good way. Like you were walking around with a completely different air around you, like you didn't fit in, but somehow it worked. He just couldn't put his finger on it.

"Well, thank you," Steve nodded, and he glanced down at your hands, still melded together.

But it seemed you were the one who wasn't letting go, squeezing hard. He raised his brows, then looked up at your face, which gave away all he needed to know. You were transfixed, studying him, and too in it to bring yourself back to earth. All these things, though, he greeted with a warm smile and a warm heart.

You realized that you were gawking, and that you were squeezing his hand far too tight, as if you were the one with enhanced strength. You laughed nervously and dropped his hand, running your own against your forehead.

"My apologies," you murmured.

"All the same. Where are my manners, I haven't even asked you your name yet," he grinned, and you really tried quite hard not to get lost in the depth of those blue eyes, so charming and naturally friendly. But you couldn't help yourself, your eyes darting between his and blinking fast, twitterpated.

Seeing him up close really put things in perspective. He was handsome, he was Captain America, and he had talked to you for no real reason. You were now determined to find out why he came up to you before the end of the night. Then you would go back.

"I'm... Y/N."

"Y/N. It's nice to meet you, Y/N," Steve nodded, and you felt your cheeks go warm with blush.

You felt stupid and girlish, blushing to death in front of this hunk of a man, knowing he probably got this all the time. You pushed hair behind your ear, your eyes gazing down at the floor,

"So... how- how are things?"

You were well aware of how awkward you sounded, hyper-aware, even. But Steve found it endearing, and he liked talking to you.

"Things?" he repeated, lightly poking a bit of fun at you.

You chuckled to yourself and looked up at him, a small smirk of a smile on your face. You worked up the nerve to make eye contact with him rather than have your eyes flicker all over the place, and you let out a hefty breath through your nostrils.

"Like, life. Is what I meant," you shook your head playfully, poking fun at yourself, and Steve grinned, laughing quietly.

"I know, I'm just teasing you. That is a heavy question, though."

"Really?" you were intrigued - the part of your brain that ran nonstop wanted to know more. "How so?"

Steve shrugged,

"I guess no one really asks me that. Not these days."

You snorted,

"I can imagine it's a lot of bullshit and work all the time."

You only realized what came out of your mouth when you caught sight of Steve's face. He was a mixture of shocked, offended, and honestly? Fascinated. It didn't take your swearing for him to realize that there was something wonderfully different about you, but hearing such language just confirmed his thoughts further. And he appreciated your brutal honesty and ability to resonate with him, even if it came with language. And surprisingly, it didn't make him recoil, it pulled him in.

"Wow," Steve dragged out the word - it was all he could see, and looked at you with an impressed smile.

You bit down on your lip,

"Woops."

"You know... we should probably be dancing," Steve joked, and you shook your head playfully, but also frantically. There was no way you'd be able to keep up with this kind of dance, and you were not going to be the girl who everyone could see Steve Rogers dancing with.

"Oh no," you waved your hand warily. "I couldn't possibly. I'm— I'm a terrible dancer. Sorry."

"That was a joke. I'm not too good myself," Steve chuckled, and for a moment you were each just laughing, looking at each other, gazing into each other's eyes as if you were the only two at the event. As if Steve didn't have probably a million responsibilities just within this night. He was enjoying your presence a lot for someone he'd just met.

You folded your arms, bouncing gently on the balls of your feet and swaying back and forth,

"If you don't dance at these things, then what do you do?"

Steve brought his arm up, scratching the nape of his neck as he squinted a little in contemplation. As your eyes followed his movements, your brain blanked -- all you could spell out right now was "muscle" and "bulge." You found yourself wide-eyed, blinking harshly.

"Make speeches, be put on the spot, talk work."

"Anything fun?" you questioned, and he laughed, appreciating the challenge.

"Leave with a girl?" Steve replied, although it was more of a hopeful question.

You grinned, looking up at him. Was he seriously courting you right now? It seemed as though nothing should feel impossible to you, not when in the year of 2020 you had time traveled back to the 40s. But this felt unreal.

"And do what?" you smiled, and Steve became slightly flustered, then placing his hands in his pockets and rocking back and forth. He cocked his head to the side, again replying with a question,

"We could go on a walk. Visit my favorite diner for milkshakes on me?"

You couldn't help but beam at all his suggestions, your eyes glimmering as yours locked with his. You nodded, much too calmly in comparison to the way you felt inside - inflamed and jittery. Nevermind that you had fallen into exactly what you were trying to avoid - it was a beautiful fall anyway. Besides, who would you be to turn down Captain America?

"That's just fine with me. Let's get out of here, captain," you quipped, taking the initiative and linking arms with him, feeling his strong arm wrap around yours.

Talking and walking with Steve couldn't have been any more fun. Somehow it was like you both freed yourselves, rebelling and escaping from something that didn't suit you before. You didn't know what was to come next, and you certainly hadn't expected this. Anything could happen. Although you were nervous, it was just the right amount. You were excited, you felt natural walking the streets with him, arms linked together, gazing up at him like a puppy. Just being in the presence of such greatness felt like a dream.

And Steve was just as wonderful as they made him out to be, even more. In the time you spent together, you'd learned so much about him. He was kind and bright, made you feel comfortable and safe. You pulled humor and lightheartedness out of him, made him feel comfortable. He was glad to be here with you, away from everything else. He was proud of himself for working the nerve up to talk to you, for not ignoring the fact that he was so drawn to this stranger. And it was the best decision he'd made that night.

You were each strolling down the dark streets, only lit by street lights and the dim lights that came from people's windows as they got ready for bed. It felt reassuring to know that even while you were surrounded by unfamiliarity, you could find resonance in all those people, looking through their windows and wondering what they were having for dinner, imagining the ladies taking off their jewelry as they cuddled up in bed with a lover.

"I feel like I'm gonna be on a sugar high," you chuckled, sipping some of your milkshake.

Steve grinned down at you,

"Mike's Milkshakes will do that to you."

You sighed, glancing around at everything. It was beautiful here in the dark, even in the midst of war, with everything going on. Before, you could only imagine what these nights would be like. You wondered if you would've intentionally traveled back to this time instead of by accident. Considering the way things were outside of this moment in particular, you probably wouldn't. But you were glad you did. This felt like a beautiful mistake.

You pulled Steve onto a corner of an alleyway, the two of you basking under the glow of the street light.

"Steve," you said his name gently, but as if it were of the utmost importance.

He looked down at you, becoming nervous himself, feeling his heart beat in his chest. You were undoubtedly beautiful, and the two of you were more alone than you had ever been in the past two hours you had spent together, quite literally just walking and talking, sharing stories and time together. He felt close to you, towering over you, and it wasn't any less nerve wracking for you.

"Yeah?" he uttered out, and you found yourself opening and closing your mouth, trying to find the right way for the words to come out.

You just smiled, reaching your hand up and sort of awkwardly patting his shoulder, then letting your hand trail down his chest gently. He looked down at your hand, then back at you, waiting for your next words.

"Thank you. This night was so beautiful, I can't thank you enough."

At the corner of Steve's lips tugged a smile, and his eyes grew needy and hopeful,

"Don't tell me this is you saying goodbye."

You felt a pang in your chest as he said that. You hadn't considered the fact that you would have to say goodbye at some point, and you knew that meant goodbye forever. But you had been so caught up in your wonder that you hadn't thought of the moment to say goodbye. And yet, it seemed like that moment was creeping up on you.

You didn't want to look at it with sadness, it was as natural as could be, but you still wished you could stay for a little longer. You knew you had to go though, and as magical as this was, you didn't want to live in a world where you had no basis. You belonged in the modern world, it was where you should stay.

"Almost," you laughed slightly. "I do have a question for you, though."

"Sure," Steve shrugged.

It was the one thing you really wanted to know: why you? Why had Steve chosen to talk to you, of all people? He didn't know you and you weren't boasting an important title. So, why you? You wondered. If you had some secret power to attract people like Steve Rogers into your life, you wanted to know what it was.

You cleared your throat before you asked this question, suddenly feeling a bit shy,

"Why did you come up to me? And talk to me... it's been on my mind all night."

Steve took in a breath and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"I... don't know. I guess I saw a little bit of myself in you, crazy as it sounds."

"Captain America is a wallflower?" you retorted jokingly, and he chuckled, shaking his head.

"I just mean, you seemed like you were trying to find a way. And I'm constantly doing that. And something about you... is different. I like that."

You knew exactly what that something was. You literally didn't belong here. You weren't from here. Steve must have sensed that, even if he didn't fully realize it.

"Hm. Well, whatever it is, I'm glad you approached me because of it. I've had the best night, really. I wish I could stay longer."

"Oh, don't go. Not just yet," Steve grasped your hand and squeezed.

"I can't. I have... somewhere to be," you smiled tearfully as you looked at your hands intertwined.

Steve swallowed. He didn't intend on getting hooked on you as fast as he did, but he did. And now that he was hooked, you were leaving. It was a bittersweet moment, but he understood you had to go— it was like you had some purpose elsewhere, and that was clear to him. It was almost strange.

"I understand," Steve replied, smiling at the touch of your hand on his, your thumb rubbing against his thumb. "I'm glad we met, Y/N. Can I see you again?"

You grinned. You certainly couldn't make any promises,

"Maybe. But for now I have to go."

"At least let me walk you home," Steve pressed, and you shook your head.

"It's much further than I think you'll want to go," was all you said. Steve would've pressed more but for some reason your answer felt definite and true.

Good night Steve."

"Good night."

Before you knew it, you were reaching up on his tippy toes to kiss his cheek, feeling his skin turn red hot beneath your soft lips. He held onto your waist gently as you kissed his cheek, and when you pulled away, you stayed there in his grasp for a moment, eyes lingering on his. You wanted more, so much more, but you had had enough already.

You didn't want to get cocky with time. You patted his chest and took one last look at him with a smile and glimmering eyes. Then, you turned away. As Steve watched you walk down the alleyway, it was almost like you vanished into thin air.

| | |

It had been a week since your beloved encounter with Steve Rogers. It still didn't feel real, in fact you wrote down every detail in your diary so that if it were a dream, it wouldn't wither away. But it was as real as real could get. It wasn't the time traveling that surprised you, you knew that to be natural. It was the experience you'd had on your trip.

You couldn't tell anybody, not that they would believe you to begin with. You didn't want to tell anybody anyway. This was your experience for keeping. You wouldn't share this with anyone else.

You were on your way to work, the memories of that night still fresh in your head, a cup of coffee in hand. You wondered if Mike's Milkshakes still operated. Like Steve, you too lived in New York. There was no reason for it not to exist. You would be sorely upset if it didn't - it was truly one of the greatest shakes you'd had in your lifetime.

You were looking down at your phone and typing, coffee in one hand, phone in the other. The hustle of New York was nothing, you could handle it.

Until you couldn't. You nearly got knocked on the floor by someone who you bumped into- or maybe he bumped into you, it was hard to say. Either way, it was a wild collision. And your coffee fell, and spilled on the both of you.

What was funny was that the two of you were apologizing like crazy, stumbling to pick the things up that had dropped, speaking over each other.

"Oh my god I'm so sorry," you stammered. "I wasn't watching where I was going."

"All the same. Where are my manners?" the man asked, and you chuckled with a scoff.

"New York will do that to you."

You were each kneeling on the ground and picking things up, scatterbrained. But you both looked up at each other at the same time, catching each other's eyes. And in that moment, something clicked for the two of you. Even when you left that day, you weren't really leaving. Because Steve was right here, a week and a few decades later. You blinked, tried to make sure your mind wasn't playing tricks on you. But it really was him. Captain America. And he wasn't dressed in full attire, but he was still there.

You made a face, furrowing your brows. All the calculations in the world couldn't have prepared you for this happening. You stared at him, speechless.

He broke the silence, staring at you just as intensely. The crisp blue of his eyes was piercing, staring into your soul.

"I know you from somewhere," he said, with absolute certainty.

Your heart dropped. This was exactly what you wanted to avoid when time traveling. Not that you even expected anything like this to happen. You became bashful, shaking your head and blushing, hurrying to stand up, but Steve followed your motions as you stood.

"No," you shook your head and laughed lightly, looking down so he wouldn't see your face.

"I'm sure I do..." he squinted, still staring intensely at you. You looked up, pushed your hair out of your eyes. You couldn't handle his eyes on you, not when you weren't even looking at him.

His eyes locked with yours again and he seemed to be exploring your eyes, wide and scared and nervous, hopeful. You hoped he'd say he was mistaken. You know you would love another chance with Steve, but that night was to be fully over with. For reasons you already stated.

But gazing deep into your unforgettable eyes, which had glimmered so brightly, it was like a switch went off in his brain, bringing him all those years back. To that one night. He squinted. How could he remember? It seemed so artificial, like it was a memory that had been falsely implanted into his brain. But that was the effect of you- you had changed his history.

He opened his mouth, then closed it again, then dared to speak,

"Y/N."

He said it as if it was an answer, not like he was asking if it was you. Again with absolute certainty.

You pouted, almost cringing as you answered, squeezing your eyes shut. You felt disappointed in yourself, for letting this happen, for opening this window of possibility to begin with. Your life and his life would be changed more than you were ready for.

You sighed and took in a deep breath,

"Hi."

Steve was still furrowing his brows at you, gazing at you with every intention,

"I don't understand. How..."

It surprised himself that he remembered you, just based off of one night. But you were hard to forget. And it was even more mind boggling that he was seeing you again, the both of you in the same shape as when you had first met. Had you been frozen too? No, it couldn't be. It had to be-

"Time travel," you blurted. Your heart was racing. "I... I time traveled. I can... do that."

"What, that's your show and tell?" Steve joked, and you felt a little less worried. At least he wasn't angry. And it felt better talking to him in present day, at a time where you both belonged.

"You could say that. Listen, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for any of this to happen, that night was a mistake."

"Mistake?"

"I- I mean... it shouldn't have happened. And it was great, really, I can't stop thinking about it. But it shouldn't have happened. I didn't even mean to... it just happened. I just got lucky."

Steve looked at you. All those years ago he had sensed that there was something different about you, he just couldn't put his finger on it. Now he knew.

"I knew there was something different about you that night. You were glowing with this... this thing... modernity, I guess," Steve nodded.

You seemed good enough. He couldn't sense any bad intentions from you, and he had a good feel for those things. It was just you. It was why the situation didn't concern him any further.

"I'm surprised you even remember me," you laughed.

"Remember you?" Steve repeated, incredulous. "How could I forget?"

He held eye contact with you when he said that, and it got you blushing, shrinking down and shaking your head,

"I'm sorry."

Now Steve raised his brows,

"I can't see what for."

"I just didn't mean for any of this to happen. I feel like I've disturbed you."

You apologized, but when you said it it made you realize you didn't really have much to apologize for. Steve didn't seem very upset... at all. It was just your brain telling you that you could mess things up.

Steve chuckled quietly, shaking his head,

"No... you haven't. And you didn't that night, either."

"Mhm," was all you could hum out.

"But if that's your idea of disturbing me... I think you should disturb me some more. Maybe you can disturb me over coffee. I'll make up for it," he gestured to the spilled coffee on the ground.

You had probably never blushed so hard in your life. Once again, Steve Rogers was actually hitting on you. And all the silly worries and blabber from your brain couldn't stop the feeling you got when you talked to him, when you were with him.

"Right now?" you asked stupidly, feeling entranced by him yet again.

He smirked playfully,

"Yeah. Unless you wanna travel back in time for it."

note: THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITE!!!

#steve rogers #fluff #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers reader insert #marvel #marvel imagine #captain america x reader #captain america #captain america imagine #time travel #time travel imagine

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a-kookie-with-my-tae · 4 years

Text

Decalcomania (Part One)

Pairing: Idol!Jungkook x SoundcloudArtist!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut

Warnings: None. Smut in part two.

Word Count: 3,608

Masterlist. Part Two

Your stomach heaves with laughter as you watch your best friend almost drop the mixing container he was trying to toss around like a seasoned bartender. Almost falling into your drink on the counter, you sit down on the stool before looking back up at the man who put you in this condition. Jimin. He was in far worse condition than you, considering he had a few drinks himself before you had arrived, and you’re now both on your third glass.

Wiping the tears that blur your vision, you attempt to calm yourself. Here you are, sitting in a private bar with your best friend. Your best friend who may or may not be a member of the biggest boy group of our era, BTS.

You stare at him, recalling how you both had met.

You were at a karaoke bar, pretty drunk and Jimin was there to blow off some steam after the weekend of performances. He was in disguise at the time, and your tipsy brain didn’t think anything of it. You don’t remember much before the moment he recognized your voice, though. You were singing some old pop song when you locked eyes with him, recognition in his features even though you didn’t know each other. At least, you didn’t know who he was.

You had recently gained a big following on your SoundCloud account, which made your songs pretty popular. You’ve never shown your face, but you have a pretty distinct voice, which is why you never tend to sing in public. Except for this time.

He said he recognized your voice because one of his bandmates is a fan. He didn’t specify who, and you never asked. You didn’t want to know the rest of them, you didn’t really want to know him. They live a completely different life, and you knew yourself too well to risk acting like a complete idiot and fangirling over them.

Until Jimin asked you to help him finish a song. He loved your work, and was having trouble finishing his. You agreed, and kept in touch ever since then.

Now, three years later, you’ve helped him write many songs, and still haven’t met any of the other members. You fear that if you do, the Chim that you know, and the Park Jimin heart throb will become one person, and for now you’d like to keep them separated.

You’ve explained this to Jimin many times, but even now, especially when he’s drunk like this, he doesn’t quite understand. To be honest, neither do you. But, you won't relent on this subject.

“Y/N-ie…” Jimin sings, hugging me from behind as I sit on the stool. He always gets like this with alcohol, he gets all lovey. But, he hasn’t started doing all the augyo yet, so you know it’s not cut-off time.

“What, Chimmie?” You ask turning your head to face him.

“You listen to our music right?”

There’s that word. Our. You know he doesn’t mean the songs you wrote together, but his band. As much as you try to keep them separate, times like this he forgets.

“Yes, yes I do, Chim.” You smile, deciding to let it go for a night.

“Well, what’s your favorite song from this album?” He says, resting his head on your shoulder.

You think about this for a moment. “Bulletproof: The Eternal is definitely my favorite group one.”

“Why?”

Again, you ponder for a moment, trying to piece your words together carefully.

“It talks about how we aren’t alone. How no matter how big you guys get, or how many stadiums you sell out, the reason you guys have such an impact is because of ARMY. How you love each one of them because they saved you from the dark place you were in, and in return you are going to save them. I love that concept, how even though we don’t meet face to face, we still mean something to one another and affect people’s lives in big and amazing ways.”

“What about solo song?”

You smile knowing he wants you to choose Filter. You had spent many months over video chat and emailing files back and forth to create that song. It was your baby, your proudest creation with him thus far. But, there’s another song that just hits you in ways you can’t explain.

“I can’t pick Filter, Chim, we wrote it. That’s cheating,” you say, laughing.

He just mumbles into your neck. You already know what he asked, even if you can’t understand the words.

“I’d have to pick My Time.”

He picks his head up at this. “Kookie’s song? Why?”

He’s curious as to why you would pick a member you haven’t met over him, you can tell. Chim is always jealous and clingy when he’s drunk, but it’s one of the things you love about him. All platonically, of course. He’s like an older brother to you, and on many occasions has he called you his little sister. You didn't have any siblings, he was the closest you had.

“Are you jealous, Oppa?” You really don’t want to explain the reasoning behind picking that song, so you try to distract him, just as you do every time he mentions Jungkook. You don’t want to admit to him that Jungkook is your bias and every song he sings just makes your insides light up in a way that makes you feel alive. That your heart flutters at the sound of his voice, and the lyrics he sings relate to you in a way you never thought any song except your own could.

“You’re trying to distract me, aren’t you. You only call me Oppa when you’re drunk, sad, or trying to change the subject. That’s only your second glass so I know you’re not drunk, and unless you’re secretly depressed as fuck and good at hiding it, I think your’e trying to change the subject.” he pulls away and turns your stool so you’re facing him. “Why won’t you tell me why you picked Kookie’s song?”

His eyes squint at you while your face flushes with heat.

“I-I…” You look down, trying to think of something.

All this is interrupted by loud knocking at the door.

“Jimin-ssi…..” An all-too-familiar voice sing-songs through the door taht causes your eyes to widen even more with fear. You’d know that voice anywhere.

It belongs to your favorite person in the world, Jungkook.

Okay, that might be an overstatement. But, he is your favorite member of BTS, besides Jimin, of course, but you don’t count Jimin. Jimn is your best firned, someone who is completely separate from the other members due to knowing him very personally for a number of years. Jimin is just, Jimin.

But, as of right now, you are contemplating murder becuase he is opening the door.

“Ya, Kookie! What did I say about calling me that? You’ve known me for how many years and still! The disrespect…” Jimin continues on, but his words fade as you focus on the angelic face before you.. He is ethereal, that’s the only way to put it. His skin has a golden glow, and a smile that lights up the room in your eyes. His light dimples are on show as he laughs at his hyung, eyes crinkling in a comforting way.

Fuck. He’s even more beautiful in person.

“...right, Y?N?” The sound of Jimin mentioning you snaps you out of your daze as Jungkook directs his gaze at you. You subconsciously hold your breath as his eyes widen in surprise. He obviously wasn’t expecting you here, with the way he came in. His face flushes at the realization that there’s someone else, albeit a girl, in Jimin’s room.

“Um, I don’t know. I guess it depends on context.” You try to formulate a proper response, but not knowing what Jimin said made you have to create a vague one. Hoping that his drunk mind won’t notice, you avert you gaze from Jungkook, face flushing with heat.

“Context? He never speaks to me like a friend, Y?N! We’ve known each other for 8 years and you still are so proper! That’s so rude!” Jungkook doesn’t laugh at him this time, attention focused solely on you. This makes you flush even further.

“He’s obviously doing it to get a reaction. He’s teasing you because you’re friends, so it’s not disrespectful, it’s actually kind of funny.” You keep you eyes on the glass at the table, trying not to make eye contact with the hypothetical love of your life.

“Well-”

“I’m sorry, Hyung. I didn’t know you had a girl over. I’ll leave you two alone…” Jungkook starts to trun back toward the door when Jimin starts laughing. But not normal laughter, no. He looks like he’s about to pass out from how funny the idea is.

“Wait… You think that Y/N and I are…? No, oh my God. she’s like my little sister, Kook.”

Jungkook’s freezes and turns around.

“So, you guys aren’t about to fuck?”

This causes you to choke on your drink, making Jimin rush over to you in worry while you have a coughing fit.

“Jungkook, you almost killed her with that foul talk.” He turns to give Jungkook his best pout. “That’s my best friend, you meanie. Plus, Rogue and I would never happen like that. We know too much weird shit about each other.”

Your eyes widen in shock when Jimin lets your stage name slip. Slowly turning toward Jungkook, you meet his gaze, his eyes wider than your own.

Jimin gasps when he realizes what he did.

“Oh, my goodness. Now you’re both gonna be hella nervous. Y/N, did I mention that Jungkook is who introduced me to your music? He’s the reason I recognized you and we started working together. And don’t think that I didn’t figure out who your bias is, little miss ‘My Time’...”

Both of you stay frozen in shock as Jimin rambles on neither moving a muscle as you gaze into each other’s eyes in shock.

Jimin finally gets the hint that you both are no longer listening and looks at you both.

“Shit, you guys both need a drink. You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

This breaks whatever spell the two of you were under and you turn your stool back toward the counter top, downing the rest of your tequila sunrise. Or, whatever weird combination jimin created to try and make it. In your peripheral, you see Jungkook sit in the stool next to you. Not that he had much of a choice. The mini bar only has three stools and you are conveniently sat right in the middle.

Jimin goes back behind the counter to continue mixing whatever monstrosity he was creating before Jungkook knocked.

You sit in silence as Jimin continues to ramble on about whatever things drunk Jimin thinks of. Jungkook is a stone statue next to you, not moving a single muscle een as Jimin sets a drink in front of him. You’re too afraid to say a word and break the deafening silence between the two of you, as you have drowned out Jimin’s words long before.

He listens to your music. He knows who you are, the deepest parts of you, for he has heard your songs, your lyrics, and that fact has you frozen, afraid to say a single word in the possibility that you might say something wrong.

He knows you, but only as Rogue. And why does that fact bother you so much?

“So…” Jungkook tries to break the ice between you two, stll staring at the filled glass in front of him. “You’re Rogue…”

His sentence seems more like a question than a statement, and maybe it is. Maybe the fact hasn’t quite registered in both of your minds that the other is truly sitting right next to them. Maybe that ‘maybe’, is a little more definite.

“Yeah, I guess I am,” is all that you can muster up, speaking in the smallest voice that you ever have. You down the new drink that Jimin has set in front of you, which is somehow even more disgusting than the last, and turn towards where he stands in the middle of the room, apparently doing karaoke now. Surprisingly, even drunk, Jimin still sings like an angel. You smile at your best friend, enjoying his softness while it lasted. He’s usually way too hard on himself, you know that better than anyone, so it’s nice to see him so… free.

“I can’t believe that I’m sitting next to you right now…” You barely make out what he says, probably because he never meant for you to hear it. You turn towards Jungkook, face flushing to match his own once he realizes he said that out loud.

“I should be saying that. You’re the World’s Most Handsome Face of 2019 according to TC Chandler. Not to mention you’re not only South Korea’s, but America’s hot shot. The world literally breathes for you and you’re saying you can’t believe you’re sitting next to me?” You barely register the words you say as they come out of your mouth, the alcohol hitting you more than you thought after downing three glasses in the past five minutes.

His face flushes even more, if possible, as you say this, his mouth resembling a fish as it opens and closes in shock to your words. He looks out at Jimin to avoid your gaze.

“Well, I mean, it doesn’t feel like I’m all that…” He stutters a bit in his nervousness. “To me, it feels like I’m the nervous fan and you’re the big celebrity. And nobody’s ever met you, or even know what you look like. Do you know how it feels to obsess over someone’s music and be the only fan to know who they are?”

He stares dead in your eyes at this last statement, his words rendering you the speechless, stuttering one.

“I just…” You can’t look away from his eyes. They’re like chocolate orbs swirling with warmth and wonder, you could get lost in them forever if you really wanted to.

He looks away, breaking the trance you were in. you turn towards Jimin, thinking that if he’s out of your sight, it’ll be easier to speak with him, pretend he’s not Jeon Jungkook, the boy sweetheart of the world.

“I’ve listened to you for almost two years now,” he begins, still not looking toward you. “You didn’t have a following then, and your music may not have been the most professionally made, but I heard what you were saying, I connected with it. I watched you improve and felt… Well, I felt like I connected with you. That I understood you and you understood me.”

You smile. “That’s the most beautiful thing that I’ve ever heard about my music.” You turn towards Jungkook, staring deeply at him even though he still wasn’t looking at you. “Thank you, Jungkook. Really, I mean it.”

He looks up at you then, smiling back at you. “You’re welcome.”

You’re met by a moment of silence, both of you just staring at each other. The world around you starts to disappear and all you see is him. But, not the Jungkook that you’re used to. This is the real him, not the one you see on television.

‘Ahem.” Jimin breaks you both out of your daze as you jump in your stool. You face towards him, face flushing red once more. “Does this mean you’re gonna steal my co-writer now? Because I really like her.”

Jimin hangs around you, arms draping over you as he pouts at his other best friend. Jungkook’s eyes widen at the information he just recieved.

“Wait, Y/N is your ghost writer? The one helping you that you wouldn’t tell us about?”

“Well, yeah, maybe…” Jimin pouts even more, looking at the floor instead of Jungkook. “She didn’t want to meet you guys, thought she would embarrass herself or something. But, the truth is I didn’t want you guys to meet her either. She’s my best friend, and I didn’t want you guys taking away the little time that I get to spend with her…”

You coo at his cuteness. You know it’s time to cut him off now. Nonetheless, you still place your hands on his arms that are wrapped around your shoulders. “Aw… Chimmy…”

Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow at your skinship. Is he… jealous? No, he’s probably just confused. You scold yourself for even thinking that someone like Jungkook could be jealous of someone else hugging you. You just met the boy, for Christ’s sake.

“We should probably get this one to bed…” You start, bringing Jungkook’s attention to you.

“No…” You hear a whine from Jimin as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. You giggle lightly as his breath tickles your neck.

“Chim, it’s almost 3AM and you have to get up at 8 to start recording, so you need to get to bed.” You’re used to acting like a mom around Jimin when he’s like this. Makes you feel like one, too.

“Fine…” He agrees, but makes no move to let go of you. You try to gain his attention only to hear soft snores next to your ear. You smile as his goofiness. Not tired, my butt.

You turn your gaze back toward Jungkook. “Could you help me with this,” you ask, gesturing toward a sleepy drunk Jimin. He smiles before standing up and wrapping Jimin’s arm over his shoulder then picking him up bridal style. The sight makes you stifle a giggle, bringing a fist to your mouth.

Once You both get Jimin tucked into bed, the room is once again filled with an awkward silence. Your eyes wander everywhere but Jungkook, trying to stop yourself from saying something stupid without Jimin here to save you.

“So… you’re Rogue,” he says, still staring at Jimin’s sleeping form. The music from the karaoke is still running in the background, creating a soothing ambience. You turn towards the machine and unplug it, shrouding the room in silence, other than the sound of each others breathing and Jimin’s soft snores.

“Yeah.”

“And you help him write songs?” Jungkook meets your gaze, eyes brimming with criousity about you.

You pause.

“Yeah.”

At this point, you don’t know if that’s the only word you can remember how to speak, but it sure seems like it.

There is a beat of quiet. No movement, no words. Just the two of you looking at each other. You open your mouth to speak your parting, but Jungkook speaks before you can.

“I know we just met, but can I ask you a favor?”

You pause, questions filling your head as your brows furrow. You don’t have time to respond before Jungkook starts rambling.

“I mean, it’s just that I really like your music. Like, really like your music, and I’m kind of stuck? I don’t know how to phrase it…” He scratches the back of his neck as he bites his lip, looking at the ground. “I released a teaser song a few months ago named Decalcomania. The fans were all so excited for it and, to be honest, so was I. But, after the teaser came out, I couldn’t finish it. It’s like something is missing and I don’t know what.”

You nod your head as you watch him, instantly recognizing the song he is talking about. You have had many ideas for a response song, but you don’t want to tell him that.

“It’s just…” he pauses, pursing his lips before looking into your eyes determinately. “Will you help me finish it?”

Your eyes widen in surprise. Jeon Jungkook just asked you to help him finish the song that you’ve spent months fangirling over? First Jimin, now Jungkook. Who’s next? Billie Eilish?

You honestly had no idea your music could even reach someone like him, someone who seemed so untouchable. And yet, that’s exactly how he feels about you. That you’re unfathomable, unreachable to him.

“Okay,” you say, nodding slightly. “I’ll help you finish it.”

Jimin had surprised you earlier with plane tickets. This weekend was their last batch of concerts before their break back in Korea. Luckily, you’ve studied the language vigorously in your avid listening of kpop, little does he know. But, he wants you to come back to Busan with him so he can show you around Korea during his break. ‘It’s only fair,’ he said once you arrived. ‘You’re showing me around your hometown, so I want to show you around mine.’

You smile at Jungkook. “I’ll be showing Jimin around Savannah this week before the concert, and I’m flying back with him because he wants to show me around Busan.”

You see his eyes widen at your answer.

“I don’t know if you want to work while you’re here, or not. But, I will be in your hometown for the next two months if you want to work together some more then.” You head towards the door, not trusting yourself to be around him anymore. Your face remains serious, but the flush in your face will ultimately give you away if you stay. “I’ll have Jimin give you my number when he wakes up.”

You open the door and pause, looking back at him. “Goodnight, Jungkook. It was nice to meet you. I think we’ll have a good time working together.”

Then, with a smile, you left, leaving a poor, shocked, bunny standing in the middle of Jimin’s suite.

That was three weeks ago.

#bangtan #jimin #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook one shot #smut #fluff #jungkook smut #reader #soundcloud

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