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paulisded · 4 months

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The Ledge #600: Hudson's Best Of 2023

Choosing my favorite records of the year is always a double-edged sword. On the one hand, it's great fun for a music nerd like me to revisit the hundreds of releases I've checked out the last twelve months. But it's also frustrating trying to thin down those picks into a list that truly represents the past year. Many records that initially seemed a lock are suddenly eclipsed by new records that I simply can't ignore. Other albums that I had prematurely set aside have revealed themselves to be chock full of fabulous tunes that I can't imagine living without.

Overall, this is another great year for music. I'll never understand the mindset of people, especially those around my age, that complain how there's no great bands or records these days. Sure, the pop charts are primarily filled with garbage, and one does have to spend more time than ever finding new artists. But the search has always been a great part of the fun of being a collector, and my main reason I've now put together 600 episodes of this show is to share my findings with others. I'm always thrilled when I hear that someone has bought a record due to my recommendation. So please let me know your thoughts on this countdown of my picks for the 40 best records of the year!

39. Hotline TNT, Cartwheel/Dion Lunadon, Systems Edge. (tie) It’s only fitting that the list ends with the two most recent discoveries. Hotline TNT is the latest project of Weed leader Will Anderson, and it’s a prime example of the modern era’s version of what was described as shoegaze years ago. Dion Lunadon is a veteran rocker who got his start in The D4, which put out two albums on Flying Nun Records, and also spent time in A Place To Bury Strangers. His third solo album of glam-influenced rock and roll probably would have charted higher in this year’s list if I had heard it a few weeks earlier.

38. The Blips, Again. A few years ago, the leaders of four bands convened in an Atlanta studio and put together a great rootsy rock and roll album. These four songwriters have reconvened and their second album is as strong as their debut.

37. Dwarves, Concept Album. A happy Dwarves album? Is that possible? Well, sort of. The snark is still there from He Who Shall Not Be Named and the rest of these masked marvels.

36. Jagger Holly, Rivoltella. Forced with a second lockdown in his Austria home, Jagger Holly’s Jay Dee sat down and started writing…and writing more. As he states on his bandcamp, “If 1 record is nice....2 records has to be better right?” The result is indeed two records of what pop-punk should sound like instead of the whiny vocal styles that plague the records that generally are described as such.

35. Local Drags, Mess Of Everything. Let’s take a little bit of The Shoes, mix it with early Tom Petty along with Wilco at their poppiest, and you have this rock and roll gem.

34. The Smashing Times, This Sporting Life. We all need a little jangle in our lives, and we have The Smashing Times to give us this year’s shimmering guitars.

33. JJ & The Real Jerks, Rat Beach. Our friends at Rum Bar Records released a ton of great music this year, but the highlight is quite possibly by these grizzled rockers. Take a little bit of Ramones, more than a couple of pinches of Dead Boys, and quite a bit of any other “loud fast rules” bands, and you have these wonderful jerks.

32. The Men, New York City. After a few albums that saw this veteran band attempt to expand their sound, this record is a true back to basics that, to quote Pitchfork, “wears its analogue heart on flannel-clad sleeves”.

31. Country Westerns, Forgive the City. Great band, terrible name. But with great garage rock such as this I’ll forgive the sin.

30. Kevin Morby, More Photographs (A Continuum). Technically, this record is a set of leftovers from last year’s This Is a Photograph album, but these aren’t second rate rejects. Instead, these are songs that lyrically or sonically just didn’t fit that album but deserved to be released.

29. Waco Brothers, The Men That God Forgot. A personal note here. I created a yearlong theme for my podcast, The Ledge, where I’ve been playing a cover of The Undertones’ “Teenage Kicks” on each and every one of my shows this year. I was obviously thrilled when I first saw a tracklist of the latest by these veteran “Clash meets Cash’ rockers and “Teenage Kicks” was the lone cover on their first set of original songs since 2016.

28. Bory, Who’s a Good Boy. Bory is the project by Portland newcomer Brenden Ramirez, and is produced by power pop maestro Mo Troper. This was a late addition, and I can’t wait to fully immerse myself into multiple plays of this catchy record.

27. Iggy Pop, Every Loser. It certainly seems like 2023 was a year for legends to return to the spotlight. Pop set the tone with this album that came out the first Friday of this year. Like the Stones album, Pop was reenergized by young producer Andrew Watt, which resulted in quite possibly the most varied Iggy album in decades.

26. Brian Jonestown Massacre, The Future Is Your Past. Thirty years after their very first release, Anton Newcombe’s latest collection of songs is his 20th album to date. The latest is an extension of last year’s Fire Doesn’t Grow On Tree, where Anton set a goal to record one new song a day for 70 days. I guess we’ll have a few more records from these sessions in the next few years.

25. Guided By Voices, Nowhere To Go But Up. Another year, another three albums by Robert Pollard and friends. So which one do I pick for this list? Honestly, I’m going to go with recency bias and choose the most recent record. But all three feature the typical three minute blasts of pop/rock bliss that Pollard has completely perfected since he stabilized his most recent lineup a decade or so ago.

24. Night Beats, Rajan. It may not sound correct, but I can’t help but think this wild mix of psych and Western genres would make it the perfect soundtrack for a remake of a 60’s spaghetti western.

23. Yo La Tengo, This Stupid World. Shortly before COVID hit, Yo La Tengo began recording jam sessions in their practice space. They reconvened a few months later, and started experimenting with these tapes they had previously recorded. The result is one of the veteran band’s more interesting albums they have put out in their almost 40 year career.

22. Graham Parker & The Goldtops, Last Chance To Learn The Twist. It’s always a great year when we see a new Graham Parker album, and this year is no exception. His first in five years, Parker’s latest combines his usual snark with a wry sense of humor, along with his love of classic soul and barroom rock.

20. Lucinda Williams, Stories From a Rock N Roll Heart/Pretenders, Relentless. (tie) Two legendary rock and roll women who have nothing to prove return with some of their best music ever, and they do it on their own terms. Chrissie Hynde’s latest Pretenders album rocks as hard as her band’s greatest moments, but it’s not a retread of her first two albums. Williams, who recently recovered from a stroke, combines barroom rockers with her patented grizzled folky ballads.

19. Cut Worms, S/T. Max Clarke’s third album as Cut Worms is a weird fever dream where Brian Wilson in his 1966 prime suddenly records an Americana album that would fit right in with 1999-era Jayhawks, Wilco, or Whiskeytown. Does that make sense?

18. Frankie and the Witch Fingers, Data Doom. Let’s just let the bandcamp page describe this album, as it’s better than anything I could possibly write - “on…Data Doom the band hurtles the listener head first into the wood-chipper of technological dystopia, systemic rot, creeping fascism, the military-industrial profit mill, and a near-constant erosion of humanity that peels away the soul bit by bit. With a fuse lit by these modern-day monstrosities the band seeks to find salvation through a thousand watt wake-up of rock n’ roll exfoliation.” Are you as exhausted as me?

17. Osees, Intercepted Message. It’s insane to think that this is the 28th studio album by John Dwyer and Company, under quite possibly the tenth or so variation of their band name. What’s even more insane is that, with few exceptions, none of these albums sound the same. This record could be described as their “party record”, with synths leading the way. But that’s not saying this is an OMD album, as the garage-punk aggression is still present.

16. King Tuff, Smalltown Stardust. Kyle Thomas, aka King Tuff, has always mixed a wide range of influences into his records. On this record, Thomas adds quite a bit of 70’s singer/songwriter, along with a bit of early Wings, merged with the fuzzier sounds of Dinosaur Jr., Ty Segall, and many others.

15. The Rolling Stones, Hackney Diamonds. There’s absolutely no reason why a 2023 album by The Rolling Stones could be anything better than middling. A tour souvenir, maybe. Or something only for the devoted fan. Yet, this record works. The band sounds like they mean it, man. It may be prototypical Mick and Kieth, but there’s also a modern edge to it thanks to producer Andrew Watt.

14. Lydia Loveless, Nothing’s Gonna Stand in My Way. Lydia’s lyrics have always seemed like a direct path to her soul, and that’s never been more true than on this record. Yes, she’s been through a lot of heartbreak, but there’s also a feeling that she knows she’s going to make it and won’t let anybody get in her way.

13. The Exbats, Song Machine. Everyone’s favorite father/daughter band has now fleshed out their sound with the addition of two additional band members, and their new record is sort of a love note to the history of pop music. There’s some songs reminiscent of Phil Spector’s great girl groups of the 60’s. Other tunes seem to come straight from the Brill Building or whatever production team created the Partridge Family records of the 70s. Yet these syrupy tunes mix with the darker influences of bands like the Velvet Underground and the Ramones.

12. Sparklehorse, Bird Machine. As a rule, posthumous records don’t make my lists. But I can’t help but include this final Sparklehorse record. One year before he took his life, Mark Linkous spent a few weeks in the studio with producer Steve Albini, bashing out a bunch of simpler than usual tunes for a project that was never finished. Over a decade later, Linkous’ brother and his wife fleshed out these recordings, resulting in a fitting final chapter for a brilliant career that should have been bigger than it was.

11. Tommy Stinson’s Cowboys In the Campfire, Wronger. The former Replacements bassist has long promised this side project with buddy Chip Roberts, and it’s a wonderful departure from the great Bash and Pop album of a few years ago. This record is chock full of laid back Americana, and certainly showcases Stinson’s love of the likes of Johnny Cash, Dave Alvin, and John Doe (who makes a guest appearance).

10. Bar Italia, The Twits. This wonderful London trio released two records this year, but this second one was arguably the better of the pair. Their sound is chock full of many classic and contemporary bands - a bit of Sonic Youth, a midge of Dry Cleaning, among many others. What’s most interesting is that on most songs the three members each trade off on vocal lines, which journalist Skye Butchard says “(takes) songs in new directions, reveling in the tension where their individual ideas intersect"

9. Wreckless Eric, Leisureland. How does one describe a modern day Wreckless Eric album? It’s not easy. The melodic pop skills of his early days are still present, but he surrounds these tunes with landscapes of various sounds. This particular record flows best as one long piece of music. Well, two pieces, actually, if you’re listening via vinyl, as god intended.

8. Purling Hiss, Drag On Girard. Purling Hiss began as a one-man project of Philadelphia guitarist Mike Polizze. Now a full-fledged band, this is the record for fans of fuzzed up garage rock.

7. Wilco, Cousin. After last year’s somewhat overrated country-ish Cruel Country, it’s nice to see the band back to experimentation. For the first time ever, they even reached out to an outside producer, Cate Le Bon. The results are one of those “creeper” albums that takes a few spins to unveil its charms.

5. Brad Marino, Grin & Bear It/Geoff Palmer, An Otherwise Negative Situation. (tie) it may not be fair to either Marino or Palmer, but it’s hard for me to think of one without the other. They’re friends that regularly play on each other’s albums, and they both tend to put out records around the same time. They’re pretty much the power pop/punk/rock version of Rockpile’s Dave Edmonds and Nick Lowe.

4. Paint Fumes, Real Romancer. The veteran garage/punk rockers’ fourth album is quite possibly their best. Their bandcamp site states it’s for fans of the Nerves, Ramones, and Gun Club, and I can’t think of a better description.

3. Civic, Taken By Force. Asked to describe their second album, the Melbourne-based five piece responded with “1984 meets Endless Summer”. A head scratcher, to be sure, but yet it weirdly is apt. Noisy, explosive proto-punk guitars meets singalong choruses, aptly produced by Radio Birdman’s Rob Younger.

2. The Whiffs, Scratch ‘N’ Sniff. What I just wrote about Uni Boys also fits with this fabulous Kansas City band, which made their short tour together this year a dream lineup.

1. Uni Boys, Buy This Now! Power pop was back in a big way in 2023, but it’s an evolved form of the genre. “Power” is the key word. Yes, the pop melodies are full of the giant hooks we expect from these sorts of bands, but they’re intermixed with louder guitars and faster tempos. These bands are forging their own visions instead of simply following the past. This L.A. foursome grew up at Burger Records shows, and you can tell.

Tonight's show also sees the conclusion of a yearlong project that has been great fun - the "52 Weeks of Teenage Kicks" series. I had originally planned on just playing a demo version of The Undertones' original track, but I received a surprising email just a couple of days ago. "Hey it's Krusty, longtime caller first time listener", it read. "Procrastinated my way through almost the whole year on this one (its pretty easy when you suck at drums!). Usually I am playing with my band Fashionkill, but this is my first effort at playing everything involved! Like the metallica blecccchh album, this is definitely more studio tricks than actual musicianship! Drums on Thursday, Everything else on Monday. Mixed on Tuesday. Sent today. Keep up the good stuff!" Thank you, Krusty, and thanks to all of the others who participated in this series!

Here are the tracks I aired to represent all 40 selections (aired in reverse, "countdown" order, of course):

1. Uni Boys, Down To The City.

2. The Whiffs, It’s Not Over.

3. Civic, Blood Rushes.

4. Paint Fumes, Starting Over.

5. Brad Marino, Lucy.

6. Geoff Palmer, Surfin’ Nebraska.

7. Wilco, Cousin.

8. Purling Hiss, Something In My Basement.

9. Wreckless Eric, Standing Water.

10. Bar Italia, World’s Greatest Emoter.

11. Tommy Stinson’s Cowboys In the Campfire, Mr. Wrong.

12. Sparklehorse, I Fucked It Up.

13. The Exbats, Himbo.

14. Lydia Loveless, Poor Boy.

15. The Rolling Stones, Whole Wide World.

16. King Tuff, Smalltown Stardust.

17. Osees, Intercepted Message. 1

18. Frankie and the Witch Fingers, Syster System.

19. Cut Worms, Take It and Smile.

20. Lucinda Williams, Rock N Roll Heart.

21. Pretenders, Losing My Sense Of Taste.

22. Graham Parker & The Goldtops, The Music Of the Devil.

23. Yo La Tengo, Sinatra Drive Breakdown.

24. Night Beats, Motion Picture.

25. Guided By Voices, Puncher’s Parade.

26. The Brian Jonestown Massacre, Do Rainbows Have Ends.

27. Iggy Pop, Strung Out Johnny.

28. Bory, Feel the Burn.

29. The Waco brothers, Teenage Kicks.

30. Kevin Morby, This Is a Photograph II.

31. Country Westerns, Grapefruit.

32. The Men, God Bless the USA.

33. JJ & The Real Jerks, Girl I Want My Money Back.

34. The Smashing Times, Lets’ Be Nice With Johnny.

35. Local Drags, Heard About It.

36. Jagger Holly, Don’t Bore Us (Get to the Chorus).

37. The Dwarves, Feeling Great.

38. The Blips,, Who Took My Baby Away.

39. Hotline TNT, History Channel.

40. Dion Lunadon, Diamond Sea.

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fourth-quartet · 1 year

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For the ask game (gonna do a little bit of everything):

Personal: 1, 11, 13, 26, 30, 39, 63, 69 (cuz why not?)

Favorites: 72, 83, 85

Family, childhood and places: 101, 102, 105

Friends: 108, 109, 111

Relationships: 127, 129, 149, 153

Music, movies and books: 181, 182, 188, 190

Situations and crazy things: 195, 208, 213

Opinions and beliefs: 219

Feelings and Others: 230, 234, 264, 265

Go nuts!!

Answers below!

1 - How are you? Altogether, I'm doing alright. Today was a very stressful and exhausting day, but I made it through and now I get some time to just relax. 11 - Have you ever dyed your hair? Oh my god, yeah. Until very recently my hair had been consistently dyed since I was about twelve years old. The last time I shaved my head, I decided to let it grow in the way it naturally is (auburn in color) 13 - If you could change your eye color, would you? I wouldn't! I have green eyes and it's one of my favorite things about myself. 26 - Something you are working on right now: Honestly? Taking time for myself and just existing in my body in the present. 30 - What do you think you’re really good at? Writing ^^ 39 - Do you sleep with a stuffed toy? I do! He's a stuffed tiger from Build-A-Bear. 63 - A quote you try to live by: Be Kind. Do good. 69 - Leave me a compliment: I don't want to sound shallow but you're??? really freaking pretty Sass. No kidding, I always get excited when you post a pic because you've got killer makeup and fashion.

72 - What’s your favorite band/singer? Right now, I've been really revisiting my love for Steven Suptic's voice via his music under the SUGR? name. 83 - What is your favorite flower? Daisies~ 85 - What is your favorite season? Autumn!

101 - Where would you like to live? I would honestly love to either be back in the northeast (Boston I miss u) or in the PNW. I have family in Idaho so Washington state would be great (relatively close by but not in Idaho) 102 - What would your dream house be like? This always confuses people, but I actually don't ever want to own a house! I'll be content to rent for the rest of my life. There's something so reassuring to me about the possibility of picking up roots and moving when I want to. 105 - Top three places to visit: I have no idea. I'm so used to road trips with my family that I don't have a list of places I'd love to visit, nor do I have a list that I enjoyed visiting all that much. Always museums though.

108 - Who is someone you never tire of? My darling best friend Kay. 109 - Do you have someone you can be your complete self around? Nope o.o 111 - Is there anyone you can tell EVERYTHING to? Kay, for sure.

127 - What is the first thing you noticed in someone? Fashion sense. 129 - What’s the most superficial characteristic you look for? Hand size 149 - Say five ways to win your heart: parallel play, watching shows with me, check-ins, respecting boundaries, words of encouragement for literally anything 153 - What’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for you? A guy I knew my senior year of high school realized I never had any food and started bringing me lunch every day because he liked cooking and cooked meals for his family every night.

181 - How often do you listen to music? More than I don't listen to music. 182 - What kind of music you like? It's all over the place. I listen to a lot of kpop (2nd-4th gen), I listen to stuff from the emo/pop punk 00s vibes, I listen to some general indie singer-songwriter stuff, I listen to Broadway. 188 - Put your music player on shuffle and write the first ten songs that play: Shake It Up - Super Junior, U - Super Junior, Gold Dust - Changmin, Beautiful Monster - STAYC, Fallin' Down - DinDin, These Drugs - Sugar Pine 7, Outlaws of Love - Adam Lambert, If the World Only Knew- Joshua Colley, Don't Let Me Know - Smash Cast, Eat Your Young - Hozier 190 - Describe your dream library: Natural lighting, not overwhelming in its presence, little nooks to curl up in and read, options for paper, audio or kindle

195 - If you could be any character, from any literary work, who would you choose to be? There's this book I read when I was a kid called the Westing Game. Turtle has always had a soft spot in my heart. 208 - 5 things within touching distance: My pillow (zebra-striped pillowcase), my switch (lite, salmon colored), my stuffed animal (tiger, Hobi, he/him), my Kugrash plush in my window, my phone 213 - If you met me what would you do? ask for permission to give you a hug!

219 - Do you consider yourself lucky? What’s your good luck charm? I don't! I actually consider myself to be unlucky most of the time ehehehe

230 - Are you a procrastinator or do you get things done early? It depends on what the thing is, but I'm actually generally a 'get things done early' type. 234 - Something that you’re proud of: I'm published!! 264 - One thing you’re excited for: My brother and I just got approved for an apartment together and I'm excited to move in with him. 265 - Describe the most terrifying/strangest/beautiful dream you’ve ever had: We had to keep dream journals in one of my fiction classes, so I can actually copy directly from when I had it the first time- "

I’m aware it’s a dream, and that my actions have control over everything else. In some ways, this godly power gives me anxiety; what if I fuck up? What if I hurt someone in my dreams? Will I hurt them in real life? Will they know?

I stand in a theater, an auditorium, and I look out at the rising seats. Red in color, dark red, bathed in darkness. Outside, somewhere, sirens wail, ascending and descending, growing closer and further, as though the concept of distance doesn’t truly exist. Like they’re driving in circles. Or rather, like the sirens are moving in circles without them; I don’t hear engines.

I hear birds chirping and whales singing and I can feel their loneliness in my bones, itching, crawling on my skin, and rolling around in my skull, bouncing like a DVD logo. Their loneliness echoes my own isolation in this theater, putting on a show for patrons I cannot see, with a script I do not know. The papers in my hand, appearing as I look, are blank; I need to write my own show on the spot, but if I do not entertain then it will be my own downfall, embarrassment and shame, that are the entertainment for the cruel patrons playing the game."

#hey i love u thank you for the ask friend <3 #took answers #friend tag!!#sass~~~~#sass tag

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ap-kinda-lit · 3 years

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Not With My Daughter!

Rating: T Pairing: Kawasara mainly, with a dash of Sasusaku too Summary: Sasuke sees something that doesn't please him one bit and he faces a realization that is much less palatable for him

Was requested to do a fic where Sasuke or Sakura catches Kawaki and Sarada a while back, but I finally did it! Here y’all go!

For the hundredth time that evening, Sasuke glanced at the clock. It was twelve past eight now. He grimaced. They should've been home by now... The Shadow Hokage anxiously drummed his fingers on his chair's arm. Sarada had left hours ago to train with her new teammate, the boy that Naruto had taken in. Kawaki, he thinks his name was? It didn't really matter right now. All that mattered to the Uchiha patriarch was that it was past Sarada's curfew and she wasn't home. Sasuke kicked himself. He never should've let her go off with that boy. He didn't trust him. This 'Kawaki' was new to the village, little was known about him, he had several incidents of trying to escape, causing chaos, and lashing out violently...and he was getting too close to Sasuke's peanut. Sasuke huffed and stood up from his seat. He couldn't take it anymore. He was not going to wait around while his baby girl was who-knows-where doing who-knows-what with a boy he barely knew. He was grabbing his cloak and house key when Sakura walked in. "Anata, where are you going? Is something wrong?" she asked. "No, everything is...fine." he was slow to finish his sentence. Sakura gave her husband a look and sighed. "Anata, you're not going to hunt down Sarada and Kawaki, are you?" she spoke with exasperation. "...perhaps..." Sasuke mumbled. "Sasuke-kun, I know they're late, but it's not late enough for you to go and terrorize the village looking for them." Sasuke grumbled something in disagreement. He draped his cloak around his shoulders and buttoned it, then turned towards the doorway. "Anata, at least leave your katana!" Sakura shouted after him, but Sasuke did not heed. He marched to the door, opened it and- Sasuke froze on the spot. He had seen a lot of terrible things in his line of work, but none compared to what he was seeing at that very moment: right there before him was Sarada (his sweet, innocent little girl) with her arms wrapped around the shoulders of none other than Kawaki as the two were locked in a simple but somewhat passionate liplock. Sasuke was first in shock which evolved into horror then, ultimately, an overwhelming and powerful rage. Sarada and Kawaki finally realized his presence and pulled apart from each other. "Papa!" Sarada squeaked in surprise. Sasuke's eye twitched. "Y-you..." he could barely speak through his all-consuming outrage. Kawaki said nothing and only stared back, looking alarmed. Sarada saw her father's Sharingan form and she quickly noticed his hand reaching for his katana. "Papa..." Sarada pleaded. But her pleas fell on deaf ears. Sasuke's one-track focus was honed in on one thing and one thing only: the mohawked little bastard who had the audacity to put his nasty lips on his daughter. "You...prepare to die..." Sasuke growled out. "Anata!" "Papa!" Sakura and Sarada shrieks were lost in the ensuing clamor of Sasuke unsheathing his katana in a flash of electric light and Kawaki's arm morphing into a large shield to protect himself from the incoming blade which easily cut through. Kawaki leaped from the doorstep and hit the ground running from his attacker. Sarada and her mother could only stay back and watch as the family man pursued the poor young boy, attacking him blindly with rage. Sakura gave her daughter a nervous smile. "I'm sure Papa won't harm Kawaki...badly." she assured her. Sarada sighed.

+++++

Sasuke eventually returned home, disheveled but fine and not quite as furious as he was earlier. Sarada and her mother talked prior to his return and Sarada was forbidden from going out for the rest of the week as punishment for not being home on time. Sarada went to bed afterwards and Sakura was waiting for her husband when he came into their room upon his arrival home. Sakura was giving Sasuke a concerned but amused look as he changed clothes. "I'm not apologizing for tonight." he promptly said. "I didn't say anything." Sakura responded. "You were thinking it." "Not really." Sasuke finished getting dressed and climbed into bed next to his wife. Sakura shifted to cuddle her husband and he responded by leaning into her embrace. "You did overreact, don't you think?" Sakura murmured into his chest. "I don't think I did." his reply was flat and matter-of-fact. "Anata..." "He had no right. He kept her past her curfew and he...did that...in front of us, her parents." Sasuke's irritation was apparent in how he spat out his last sentence as if it was a morsel of the most disgusting food he had ever eaten. Sakura propped her head up on her hand to look at her husband's face. "Sarada and I talked and she told me that she kissed him." she pointed out. "Sakura, don't tell me that." Sasuke cringed in disgust. Sakura giggled. "Oh, anata, I know that this may be hard for you to hear but Sarada is a young woman now. She's very capable of doing things by her own accord, especially things that we might not like." Sakura explained. Sasuke said nothing. He felt his wife's hand rest over where his heart was and she gave him a meaningful look. She sighed and continued, "I don't like it any more than you do, but it's a simple fact of life. Our baby...isn't a baby anymore." Still, Sasuke said nothing. As just about always, Sakura was right. He admired how she was usually right, but at times like this he wished she could be wrong more often. He really wanted her to be wrong in this case, but no. She was spot on. Her and Sasuke's little girl wasn't so little anymore, whether he liked it or not. To him, it felt like it was just yesterday that he was carrying her on his shoulders as he took her around the woods and sitting on the ground of their home with her, playing with stuffed animals and her numerous toys and listening to her adorable baby babble. But now she was a lot bigger and walked on her own two feet, played with kunai and shuriken, and preferred the company of a mohawked punk over her father's. Melancholy and nostalgia built up in Sasuke and a lump formed in his throat. Sakura could tell right away what was going on in his mind. She nuzzled her head against his neck lovingly. "But it's not the end of the world. No matter how old she gets or who she's with, she's always gonna want her papa in her life." she said. Sasuke's silence clearly meant he took what his wife just said into consideration. "...okay." he said. Sakura smiled. She gave her husband one last kiss and they said their 'good nights'. With that, they fell asleep.

+++++++

A week later, when her punishment was lifted and she was free to go out, Sarada came bouncing down the stairs. "Mama, Kawaki and I are going to the training fields to practice with shuriken. Is that okay?" she asked Sakura. Sakura glanced at Sasuke, who was sitting in his armchair reading a newspaper. "It's alright with me. What about you, anata?" Sakura said. Both Sarada and Sakura looked to Sasuke, waiting for his answer. Sarada looked anxious about what he would say. Internally, Sasuke warred with himself. The overprotective part of him railed against its cage, decrying his daughter going anywhere with a young man who was that close with her, but to no avail. The Uchiha patriarch swallowed and said, "Fine by me." Sarada smiled. "Thank you, Papa." "Just be sure to be back by eight, okay?" Sasuke quickly reminded her. Sarada gave her father a peck on his temple. "I promise." she answered. After that, she gave her mother a 'good bye' and skipped away to see Kawaki. Sakura smiled at her husband. "Now that wasn't so bad, was it?" "Yes, it kind of was." Sasuke said. He sighed and added, "But I'll live." Sakura nodded at him. All was silent for a moment until Sasuke spoke again. "But if he tries anything with her when I'm around, I can't promise that I will be merciful with him." Sakura burst out laughing.

End

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dinosaurtsukki · 3 years

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haikyuu!! + things they were doing on the internet when they were like... 12

a/n: is this also a call-out post for myself and a way to make fun of things i did? yes

Hinata: playing those free to play weird-ass games on y8.com when he’s not fighting over the computer with his sister

Kageyama: watching ‘top ten best sets in volleyball games with slow-motion’ again and again until his sister taught him how to use youtube

Tsukishima: writing long essays that he posts on facebook about how much twilight sucks and how much he hates it. definitely had a twilight phase

Yamaguchi: secretly writing twilight fanfiction and posting them on wattpad. he got pretty famous for them but he’ll never talk about it

Ennoshita: played Feeding Frenzy a lot. like, a Lot. this man was a literal god

Tanaka: MAKING PUNK/EMO EDITS OF HIS FAVORITE CELEBRITIES. his masterpiece was punk harry styles feat. 6 earrings and a neck tattoo

Nishinoya: watching american ninja warrior compilations but the ones with ‘eye of the tiger’ edited over them to make them extra awesome

Daichi: coming up with his own inspirational quotes that are kind of terrible like ‘even though i’ve been beaten down, i’ll always get back up’ and posting them on facebook thinking that he’ll inspire people somehow

Sugawara: watching ‘Hetalia Ep. 25 VIETSUB|SPN|ENG subtitles pt. 2/28′ on youtube. either that or ouran high school host club idk this guy had a phase

Asahi: taking a whole bunch of those ‘what your fashion says about you’ quizzes until he eventually made one himself as well as a polyvore account

Oikawa: reading and writing doctor who fanfiction before eventually getting into sherlock and supernatural. yes, he shipped destiel. yes, the destiel canon thing on november ruined him

Iwaizumi: he was really into looking up random animal videos like ‘tarantula vs. scorpion fight’ and stuff like monster bug wars from animal planet and when oikawa made fun of his search history he figured out how to delete it

Hanamaki: vibing to the Phineas and Ferb songs playlist that he made on youtube (of course the aglet song is his favorite one)

Matsukawa: a true tumblr child and was there when this hellsite was first birthed. he remembers the tumblr wars between the fandom and the hipster blogs all too well

Ushijima: didn’t know what the internet was until tendou realized he didn’t have a skype so he made an account for him. until now, ushijima’s status still says ‘hi, wakatoshi here’

Tendou: watching a whole bunch of minecraft song parodies on youtube before eventually making them himself

Semi: either learning guitar through youtube videos or looking up ‘how to play lucky by jason mraz EASY VERSION | NO BAR CHORDS’

Shirabu: he used only Google+ as his social media and wondered why he wasn’t getting any friends

Goshiki: this kid was blessed to be twelve years old when the lego movie came out so he most definitely just used the internet to listen to ‘everything is awesome’ again and again

Kuroo: definitely a fandom kid, one of those from the six major book fandoms (hp, pjo, hg). used to run a fricking roleplay group on tumblr and his oc’s always have a Dark Backstory

Kenma: youguysaregonnacomeformebut--- SONIC THE HEDGEHOG FANFICTION OKAY BYE

Yaku: playing Pet Society on facebook. is it such a coincidence to see him so decked out and rich now when his pet had the same lifestyle? nO

Lev: playing those papa louie games (papa’s pizzeria, papa’s burgeria, etc) and trying to force the game to crash by serving customers 500 chicken wings

Bokuto: as soon as he got a skype account, he’d pretty much voice call anyone and everyone he saw had an ‘active’ status on but his friends didn’t have the heart to switch their status to ‘inactive’

Akaashi: was the king of making ‘which ___ character would be into you (for girls and gays only!!!)’ quizzes that are very detailed. he’d even make a whole character profile with a ‘how you met them’ at the end

Atsumu: used to secretly watch episodes of ‘boys over flowers’ and ‘meteor garden’ on the computer when he was alone at home. eventually got into girl’s generation and super junior

Osamu: a master at playing poptropica and even had a whole gig making poptropica walkthroughs for other people. sometimes he’d play club penguin and get himself kicked out for swearing just for fun

Suna: looking up ‘demons by imagine dragons with lyrics’ on youtube and just playing it on loop. his desktop wallpaper says ‘don’t get too close, it’s dark inside’

Kita: didn’t know what the internet was until suna and aran took pity on him and helped him create a facebook account. until now, his profile pic is still a picture of his jersey number and he has 99+ unchecked notifications

Sakusa: his cousin introduced him to sims. except, sakusa doesn’t play ‘for fun’ but to vicariously live the average salaryman life through his virtual character (he named him steve)

▸ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ◂

taglist (check out my post for details on being part of my taglist):@montys-chaos @miyumtwins @strawberriimilkshake @pocubo @sugawara-sweetheart @akaashisbabydoll @laure-chan @therainroguefanfiction @atetiffdoesart @stephdaninja @oikaw-ugh @charliefredb @dramaqueenweeb1469 @tremblinghearts @applepienation @doodleniella @haikyuu-my-love @waitforitillwritemywayout @kattykurr @atsumusdomain @goodfoodxoxoxo @ah-kaashi @guardianangelswings @definitely-yours @amberalisa @whootwhoot @liz-multifandom-hotel @kac-chowsballs @procrastination-lady

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babybluebex · 3 years

Note

Hi! May I request a Tom Holland x reader, where she's Sebastian Stan's younger sister and Seb (jokingly) threatening Tom to stay back to his sister.

Thank youu in advance 😊💕

oh my god i love this concept so much. thanks for the request!!

blood is thicker [tom holland x reader]

➽ pairing: tom holland x stan!reader ➽ word count: 1.6k ➽ summary: see above! ➽ a/n: make sure to check out the social media au of this story on my blog!! thanks for reading!

“Alright, who’s the punk?”

I looked up from my phone to see my brother hovering over my shoulder. “What?”

Sebastian raised his eyebrows at me and titled his head towards me; towards my phone, rather. “Who’s the punk you’re sending kissy emojis to?” he asked.

“Oh my God, invasive,” I gasped. “Why do you care?”

“Umm, I don’t know,” Sebastian sighed dramatically. He was a drama queen, both on and off screen. I didn’t really grow up with him-- he was already in college by the time I was born-- but, as long as I had known him, he had a flair for the dramatic that contributed to his amazing acting. I think people always assume that, because I’m The Sebastian Stan’s baby sister, I too want to act, but that’s far from the truth. “Maybe because I never properly got to harass your boyfriends when you were in high school?”

“And whose fault is that?” I asked. “Why do you think you need to harass my boyfriends?”

“It’s my job, Y/N,” Sebastian laughed. He moved to sit next to me on his couch, and he said, “As long as you’re living with me, I get to be an asshole about your dating life. It’s, like, the whole gig of being an older brother. I gotta protect you!”

“Maybe I don’t need protecting!” I laughed.

“Just tell me who it is!” Sebastian said with a laugh .

I looked down at my screen and the name that glowed up at me: Tommy. Tom and I had met at the Infinity War premier and, while that was a while ago now, we had kept up over Instagram. Eventually, we started dating but, because of how private Tom kept that part of his life, nobody knew yet (except for Tom’s brother Sam, who accidentally walked into an unfortunate Facetime call, so I could bet money that the whole Holland family knew by now). “Tom,” I mumbled, but even the sound of his name made my heart skip a beat.

“Tom…?” Sebastian began. “Do I know him?”

“Yeah,” I said and bit my lip. Sebastian knowing my boyfriend was one thing; Sebastian knowing that my boyfriend was Tom Holland, the secretly-84-year-old British diva, was something else.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow at me. “Not Tom Hiddleston,” he said. “Darling, I love you and I’ll let you do anything, but he’s older than me, I think there needs to be a line--”

“No, you idiot!” I cried and smacked him with a throw pillow. “Holland!”

“Holland,” Sebastian said slowly. “My baby sister is dating Tom Holland… You know, this is weird.”

“It’s just not,” I huffed.

“Why him?” Sebastian sighed. “Darling, it’s Tom Holland! He--”

“See, this is why I didn’t wanna tell you,” I said. “I don’t know why you hate him, but he’s actually very sweet! He’s funny and nice and respectful--”

“And he’s trying to put the moves on my baby sister,” Sebastian said quickly.

“He’s not trying,” I said. “He did. We’re already dating, the moves were made and successful. He’s coming by soon to pick me up, so get your act together.”

“Woah, time out, he’s coming to pick you up?” Sebastian said. “Taking you to dinner, a right proper gent he is.” He put on an accent that was supposed to be like Tom’s, but Sebastian was secretly terrible at accents, so it sounded a bit more like Chris Hemsworth than he intended.

“Just don’t be an asshole to Tommy, please,” I sighed. “Be nice, be-- Ya know. Not you.”

“That’ll be difficult, darling,” Sebastian mumbled, and I landed a kiss in his hair.

“Make an effort.”

The sun had gone down by the time there was a knock on Sebastian’s apartment door, and I jolted from my place in my room (technically, it was his spare room but, when I moved in, it became mine). “Don’t answer that!” I cried.

“Why not?” Sebastian called.

“You’re gonna scare him!”

I bolted out of my room just in time to see Sebastian throw the door open. Tom stood on the other side, dressed in a nice turtleneck and slacks, carrying a half dozen roses, and the smile dropped off his face instantly. “Oh, hi, Sebastian,” Tom said carefully. “Y/N’s here, right?”

“Sure is,” Sebastian said. His back was straighter, trying to be taller than Tom, and he added, “What’s it to you?”

“I was gonna take her to dinner…?” Tom said, but he phrased it more like a question. “Is that okay?”

“Seb, get outta here,” I huffed. Tom’s smile returned to his lips when he saw me, and he presented the roses to me.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Tom told me, his cheeks turning red, and my chest grew warm. He was such a sweetheart, and I wondered how I had ever lived without him.

“Oh my God, Tommy,” I whimpered, and I threw my arms around his neck to hug him tightly. “You’re so cute, thank you!”

“You look amazing,” Tom told me, his hands falling to my waist. “So beautiful, as always.”

“Alright, Holland, let’s think about this,” Sebastian said quickly. “You’re taking my sister to dinner, what else is planned?”

“Seb, shut up,” I grumbled, elbowing Sebastian’s chest. “We’re adults, go fuck off and bother Mackie.”

“I don’t wanna bother Mackie, I wanna bother you,” Sebastian said easily. “And your man.”

“To be fair, you’ve bothered me extensively the past few years,” Tom said. “I don’t get a pass now?”

“Why would you get a pass?” Sebastian asked, his eyes staring holes into Tom.

“I’m your brother-in-law?” Tom said. “You like me?”

“What if I don’t like you?” Sebastian said smoothly.

“Well, I guess we’re fucked, then, huh?” Tom laughed. “I’ll have her home by one.”

“Twelve,” Sebastian stated.

“Half twelve.”

Sebastian narrowed his eyes for a moment, then sighed. “I guess so,” he sighed finally. “Have fun, you goons.” He ruffled up my hair, earning a groan of complaint, and he added, “Wait. Gimme a hug, darling.”

“I literally hate you so much,” I mumbled, but I sank into my brother’s embrace all the same.

“You know I don’t actually hate Tom, right?” Sebastian told me softly. “I’m just messing with ya.”

“I know,” I told him. “You’re too nice to hate anyone.”

Sebastian detached from me and took Tom’s hand in a firm handshake, and he said, “Right, listen, Holland. I wasn’t around when Y/N was growing up and I didn’t get to harass her boyfriends. I’ve got 20 years to make up for and I intend to take it out on you. If you hurt her in any way-- make her cry or leave a bruise, God forbid I spot a hickey-- I’ll hurt you back. You hear me?”

“Yeah, sure thing,” Tom said, and I watched Sebastian’s grip tighten.

“I mean it, Thomas,” Sebastian said, his jaw set. “Treat her right.” He looked at me and winked, and then he said, “She deserves it.”

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader fluff #fluff #fanfiction #this is a concept and a half #i love #thanks for the request!#psychkunox

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redgillan · 4 years

Text

Under Pastel Skies - 8

Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.

Word Count: 3,734

Warnings: none

A/N: If this chapter had a name it would be “me, you, and steve’. Also I know how infuriating they are, so oblivious and dumb but isn’t it the point of pining ;) Thanks for your patience!

Wannabe sugar daddies, don’t interact with this post.

Bucky’s cab pulled over to the curb in front of his building. He tugged on the lapels of his coat, pulling it tighter around him, and braced himself for the blast of cold air waiting for him on the other side.

He hated the cold, hated winter. It reminded him of the day he lost his arm, alone on that godforsaken mountain until Steve found him. But he could deal with the cold if it meant he’d find you on the other side of that door.

He knew you were home, you had texted him about an hour ago telling him that you had a surprise for him. It had made him smile. He’d hurried home, desperate to see you even though he’d seen you that morning.

He had it bad.

He’d been restless since the gala, unable to sleep without dreaming of you, your velvet dress in a heap on his bedroom floor, your scent lingering on his bed sheets. He would wake up bathed in sweat, on the edge of coming.

He would deal with it with an ice cold shower.

Bucky had accepted the fact that his feelings for you weren’t as innocent as they once were. He had always thought you were strong, full of life and a little awkward, but lately he’d been wanting to kiss you, touch you, feel your warmth against him.

He wanted it so badly it hurt.

He wouldn’t say he loved you. He certainly felt something for you but love was something foreign to him. Sometimes he wondered if his feelings were even real. He’d gone from living an extremely solitary life to spending every single day with you. It could have easily been a product of his loneliness and your soft spoken demeanour.

He had stopped counting the number of times he’d almost kissed you on the lips. The urge was always there, eating away at him, but he always caught himself at the last moment, his lips landing on your forehead, your cheek or your temple instead.

“I’m home,” he shouted, closing the door behind him. He bent to untie his shoes and kicked them off while he unzipped his coat. “What’s the big surprise? Is it something we can eat?”

He hung his coat next to yours on the hook and walked down the short corridor that led to the kitchen. As he walked, he became suspicious of the silence that hung in the air. Slowly he peeked into the kitchen and found you in the company of someone he thought he’d never see again.

“Steve?”

“Not edible, sorry, Buck.”

Bucky’s face broke out into an instant smile, ear to ear and ecstatic. “Fuckin’ hell, Rogers, you look like a yeti.”

Steve barked out a laugh as he stepped forward and hugged him. He wrapped both his arms around Bucky, almost lifting him off the ground despite knowing how uncomfortable hugs made him feel. Chuckling, Bucky returned his hug with one arm; the only kind of hug he could give.

“I’m happy to see you.” Steve pulled back and held him at arm's length.

Bucky looked over Steve’s shoulder at you who were standing behind the kitchen counter, grinning at them. “Is that my surprise?” You nodded. “Ugh, I was kind of hoping for pizza honestly.”

“Asshole.”

“I’m joking, man.”

Steve returned to his seat and Bucky followed. You grabbed a mug from the cupboard and fixed Bucky a cup of coffee. He gave you a grateful smile.

“I’m sorry you had to deal with this punk on your own,” Bucky told you. “Did he give you a hard time?”

“Nah,” you said. “He was pretty sheepish. Also, I almost gave him a heart attack.”

Bucky burst out laughing as Steve’s face and neck flushed red. You told Bucky the story of how you and Steve met outside his apartment building. Bucky doubled over laughing when you made a pretty spot-on impression of Steve’s confused face. Steve rolled his eyes at your theatrics, a smile on his lips.

“In my defense, no stranger has ever screamed my name like that.”

“Oh, if the alley behind the church could talk, it’d call you a fucking liar, Steve.”

“First, shut up!” Steve jokingly pushed Bucky off his seat. “Second, I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.” That sobered you both up faster than a cold shower. Steve caught a furtive sideways glance between you and Bucky. “Did I say something wrong?”

“I’m not his girlfriend,” you replied with a smile. “I’m his, uh-” you trailed off and looked to Bucky for help but he was unable to speak. “I’m his roommate.”

“Oooh! Okay.”

Was that relief on Steve’s face? Bucky’s stare hardened. A muscle in his jaw jumped when Steve engaged you in a conversation. He asked you how long you’d been living with Bucky and if you liked the apartment. His tone was conversational but Bucky knew him like the back of his hand, he knew Steve was flirting with you.

“Are you staying for dinner?” you asked Steve. Bucky’s head snapped up, his eyes wide. You picked up the laminated meal plan from on the counter. “Creamed spinach and baked eggs.”

“Sounds great,” Steve agreed.

“You don’t like spinach,” Bucky grumbled under his breath.

“I’m not twelve anymore,” Steve countered with an arched brow. It made you laugh. “Besides I haven’t eaten a homemade meal in... wow, probably years.” Steve turned to you. “I don’t know if Bucky told you but I’m a landscape photographer. I live in the wild most of the year. It’s kinda like travelling by foot on an endless backpacking trip. It’s amazing but the food is disgusting.”

“Yikes!” You grimaced in sympathy. “Well, Bucky’s an amazing chef. I keep telling him we should open a restaurant together.”

You walked over to Steve and mock-whispered in his ear. “If we ask nicely, he’ll probably make us some garlic bread.”

That made Bucky smile. His first instinct was to answer with his usual ‘I’d do anything for you, angel’ but he couldn’t say that in front of Steve so he bit his tongue. He saw the disappointment in your eyes, as if you were expecting that usual answer too.

“I should go upstairs,” you said. “I have a painting to finish. Have fun, boys.”

Steve watched you go, then he shook his head and heaved out a sigh. He waited until he was sure you were out of earshot before he turned to Bucky.

“She’s quite something, isn’t she?” he said. “So, are you two...”

“We’re friends,” Bucky said.

Steve nodded. “Is she single?”

“As far as I know.”

Bucky’s jaw was clenched hard, the tendons in his neck looked like they were about to snap. He loved Steve like a brother but, goddammit, he wanted him to leave and never return. He balled his hand into a fist, feeling a visceral urge to punch something.

Yet, Steve seemed completely oblivious to Bucky’s turmoil. After living in the wild for several years, he was having trouble picking up on social cues.

“Do you think I should ask her out? I’m a bit rusty.” He ran his hand through his long hair, tugging at the strands. “I should get a trim first, right?”

“And a fucking shower,” Bucky grumbled to himself.

Steve didn’t hear him, he was too busy glaring at his hair in the big mirror on the wall.

Bucky tried to push away that nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was becoming harder to pretend this was all innocent. Not when he had to physically restrain himself from punching his oldest friend in the teeth. Steve was allowed to ask you out, Bucky had no right to be jealous.

And yet...

“How long are you stayin’?” he asked, eyeing Steve’s backpack. It wasn’t unusual for him to take Steve in when he was between assignments, but things were different now.

“A few weeks. Is it going to be a problem?”

“Listen, if it were just me, I’d let you stay,” Bucky replied. “But I’m not alone anymore. She doesn’t know you, you’re basically a stranger, and you’re already thinking of hitting on her. I don’t want her to feel uncomfortable. This is her home.”

Steve blushed. “No, of course. I understand. I would never-”

“All I’m sayin’ is, she has the final say,” Bucky cut him off. “If she lets you stay, you can take the kids’ room.”

“You sure? It’s right next to her room. I could take the room upstairs, the one above the living room.”

“No, you can’t,” Bucky sighed. “It’s her painting studio.”

Steve stared at him with a suspicious frown. “Are you sure there’s nothing between you and her?”

“Yup, she’s just a friend.”

He tried not to fidget as he forced himself to hold Steve’s gaze. He kept his head high and acted as composed as he could even though his heart was jackhammering in his chest.

“Okay,” Steve drawled out, not entirely convinced. “If you say so.”

As Bucky expected, you allowed Steve to take the guest room, the one with the bunk-bed, though Steve told you that it wouldn’t be a problem. It also meant that he would be sharing your bathroom, and while it didn’t seem to bother you, it made Bucky really uncomfortable.

That evening, he sat down with you and Steve at the dinner table. He made sure Steve was seated at one end of the table, thinking that if you didn’t have him in front of you, you’d interact less. Bucky’s plan backfired pretty quickly. Steve had so many ‘I-lived-in-the-wild-for-ages’ stories that he monopolized the discussion –and your attention.

Bucky spent most of the night lost in his own thoughts, daydreaming, and only smiled when he caught your gaze. He snapped out of his haze when he noticed that he was alone at the dinner table. You and Steve were washing the dishes, talking and laughing.

He felt a pang of envy at the sight before him; it was supposed to be him and it scared him that someone could take you away from him. Then it hit him. He wasn’t special, you were kind and sweet with everyone. It was what had attracted him to you in the first place; your kindness, your fortitude and loyalty.

He couldn’t blame Steve for falling for you, too.

“Guys, I’m going to bed,” he said, standing on the landing between the two rooms.

You turned around mid-laugh and smiled warmly at him. “Good night, Bucky.”

“Sweet dreams, angel.” It slipped out. He didn’t even realize what he’d said, but Steve did.

Steve cocked a brow at his best friend’s retreating figure before he hung his head and let out a brief chuckle.

Over the next few days, Bucky’s mood didn’t improve. He was holding back, unable to reach out to you the way he used to. Steve was always there. Always.

In the morning Steve would come back from a run, sweaty and hungry, and wearing a shirt that was two sizes too small for him. He really laid it on thick, even by his standards, but you didn’t seem to mind.

In fact, you would often go out with Steve when Bucky was working on his new book. He took you to art shows, introduced you to important people and you visited art supply stores together, which annoyed Bucky more than he thought possible.

He felt stuck in a Garfunkel and Oates song, praying for Steve to go away.

I could've wished a thousand wishes for Steve to disappear.

Worst of all, Bucky was snappy with you. Especially after he inadvertently overheard you and Natasha talking about Steve. You painted a vivid picture of Steve’s ass. Figuratively of course, though Bucky couldn’t be certain that you didn’t have hundreds of notebooks filled with drawings of Steve’s ass.

“Hey, stranger.”

He looked up when you walked into his study carrying a tray with his breakfast –coffee and two slices of toasted white bread with butter and jam. You left the tray on a pile of papers and closed the door behind you.

“I was wondering about you, since you didn’t show up for breakfast.” You stood behind him and worked your fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes and let you massage his scalp, the tension slowly leaving his body. “Something’s bothering you. I can tell.”

Bucky was so relaxed that his filter was non-existent. “Yeah, Steve’s bothering me. He stole my angel.”

“He can’t steal a mythical creature.”

“You’re my angel,” he half-moaned when you applied pressure to his scalp.

“I haven’t been feeling like your angel lately,” you said, giving him another squeeze before you let go of his head. You took a seat on the armchair close to his desk. “You’re... I don’t know. You’re moody and irritated, and I don’t know how to help you. I know you don’t like surprises, and Steve showing up out of nowhere and staying here was a pretty huge surprise. It’s difficult to cope with change but I think you’re acting a little weird. I swear, Bucky, sometimes you look at Steve like you want to kill him. Is it because we spend time without you?”

Bucky straightened up in his seat and took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “Yeah, I guess. You two are having fun and I’m stuck here, alone.”

“You feel left out.”

“A bit,” he replied earnestly. “But if you like him, you should go for it. He’s a good-looking guy, he’s nice. He’s also a dumbass but that’s part of his charm.”

You laughed. “What? Why are you telling me this?”

“I heard you and Natasha,” Bucky explained, blushing. “You said, and I quote: ‘he's got an ass you can bounce quarters off of.’”

You burst out laughing. “Oh, Bucky.”

“What? I’m just sayin’ if that’s what you wanna do... I’ll give you a bunch of quarters.”

“No, thanks,” you laughed. “I’m good. I keep my quarters for something else.”

Bucky speared you with a suspicious look. “So you don’t think his ass is like a juicy peach.” He blinked. “Also a direct quote.”

“Oh, no, I stand by what I said. His ass is so-” you lifted your hands and made a squeezing motion “-tight.”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” he rushed to say. “It’s not that impressive. Anyone can do squats. I do squats.”

“Fishing for compliments?” He rolled his eyes and shook his head. You looked at him with a fond smile. “Eat your breakfast before it gets cold.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He reached for a slice of bread and bit into it, focusing his attention on his laptop screen. You got to your feet and walked to the door.

“Oh, um, by the way, how much of that conversation did you hear?” you asked, leaning against the half-open door.

“Not much, I left after the juicy peach thing.”

You hummed while nodding, your eyes cast down. When you looked up at him, a glint of something mischievous shone in your eyes. “You should have stayed a little longer,” you said enigmatically, your eyes roaming shamelessly over his body.

You raised your eyebrows and closed the door behind you, leaving Bucky speechless and confused. “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” he shouted, hoping you could hear him through the closed door. “Angel? Come back!”

Needless to say he didn’t write much after that.

Bucky made a conscious effort to stop being an asshat. A week later, he was in a better mood, and only glared at Steve twice –the first time when Steve put his hand on your knee and the second when he made a vaguely flirtatious remark.

You let Steve and Bucky handle the dirty dishes, and Bucky was sure you did it on purpose. Your little smug smile said as much. Steve didn’t seem happy, he had never liked household chores and probably only did the dishes to spend time with you.

Bucky remembered Steve’s childhood bedroom; shades always down, his bed perpetually unmade, and a monster pile of clean and dirty clothes on his desk chair. He remembered Sarah’s exasperated sigh whenever she entered her son’s bedroom. It made him laugh.

Bucky had always been a neat person, something his mom always took pride in. ‘Look at my son who does his own laundry and sets the table without being asked. Look how well I raised him!’ After his accident, cleaning became an obsession, a way of controlling something that was uncontrollable.

“Did you get Sam’s text?” Steve asked, tossing the now-wet towel on the counter. “Emergency brunch tomorrow at 10.”

“Yeah, I know. Sam has a loose understanding of the word ‘emergency’. Last time he wanted to know if he could pull off a goatee. Not exactly an emergency.”

“Mhh,” Steve replied, thinking. “Are you coming?”

“Hell yeah,” Bucky chucked, “I wanna know what this new emergency is.”

Steve cast him a sideways glance while leaning his back against the kitchen counter. He mulled over something as he watched his friend clean the sink.

“So, um,” Steve started awkwardly. “I have a date tomorrow.”

Bucky’s hand faltered a bit. “Ah? With who?”

Steve looked toward your bedroom door and let out a very loud sigh. “A real-life angel, Buck.”

Bucky let go of the sponge and straightened up abruptly. He glared at Steve, hoping he’d heard him wrong. “What did you just say?”

“I have a date tomorrow night so you’ll have the place to yourself.” Steve smiled to his friend, blissfully unbothered. “I think I’ve been invading your personal space. You always look upset so I thought this would be a great idea. And I’ve been alone for so long, I need... relief you know.”

“Awesome,” Bucky replied, gritting his teeth.

“Great, I’m glad you see it that way,” Steve said, grabbing Bucky’s shoulder and squeezing gently. “See you tomorrow, Buck.”

He watched Steve walk to his bedroom and close the door behind him. Something inside him cracked, and he felt the overwhelming urge to throw something, watch it break into tiny pieces.

He took a deep breath and went in search of you instead. He found you upstairs in your studio, kneeling in front of a canvas, the handle of a pair of pliers in your mouth. It took you a few seconds to acknowledge his presence, and Bucky grinned when you let out a little shocked gasp.

“Did you have fun washing the dishes with Steve?” you teased, taking the pliers out of your mouth.

“I think we need a dishwasher.” He walked into the room and squatted down on his haunches next to you. “Whatcha doing?”

“I’m removing the staples on the stretcher bars so I can roll up the canvas and put it in a tube,” you said. “This way they’re protected and I can carry them pretty easily. I have a meeting with a gallerist tomorrow. Apparently Steve knows her well. He mentioned my name and she wants to see my work.”

“That’s amazing, angel,” Bucky exclaimed. “How can I help?”

“I’m almost done. I just need to finish this one. Can you grab that sheet of plastic on the desk? We’ll wrap it in it and then we’ll use a piece of canvas for extra protection.”

He followed your instructions and made sure not to ruin your hard work. Once the canvas was in the tube, you placed it against the wall next to two similar tubes. Then you cleaned up and put away your tools.

“I don’t know if Steve told you but-”

“Yes, I know,” Bucky cut you off. “The date. It’s great. Honestly.”

“Yeah.” You lowered your gaze and studied your shaking hands, unable to meet his eyes. “Listen, I was thinki-”

“I really need some time to myself anyway,” he talked over you. “So it’s great, y’know? We all get what we want.”

“I guess,” you replied. “It’s getting late, I should go to bed.”

“Getting up bright and early tomorrow, uh?” The jovial tone in his voice sounded forced, even to his ears. You nodded mechanically. “Well, good night.”

“Good night.”

You both stood unmoving, staring at each other. Your eyes were asking for something, pleading with him, but he was too lost to understand. He was lost in his own feelings, remembering something Sam had said a while ago.

There’s an entire world between like and love.

And it was true.

Like was doing the dishes with you. It was laughing and screaming while you chased each other around the living room, using fairy lights as lassos. Like was booping your nose when you watched him cook dinner. It was speaking gibberish after watching a foreign film.

Love was that sweet agony that made him feel more alive than he had ever felt. It was letting you hold his hand and play with his fingers even though his nose felt itchy. Love was seeing you wrap his bow tie around your wrist like a bracelet. It was walking around a deserted planetarium with you.

Love was the colour of your favourite lipstick; Carter Red.

“Thanks for your help,” you said, interrupting his train of thought.

“My pleasure.” He tried to smile but it hurt.

Everything made sense now. His crankiness and irritability, his sudden aversion to his oldest friend, the one who had saved his life. The one who had asked you out on a date –or so it seemed.

“Sweet dreams...” he paused, considering, then used your name instead of your usual pet name.

He had no right to call you ‘angel’ anymore. Steve had asked you out first, he had asked Bucky multiple times if he was okay with that, and Bucky’s answers had always been a gritted ‘yes’.

The truth was, his epiphany didn’t change anything. He wouldn’t have asked you out because there was too much at stake: your friendship, your livelihood, your career, the well-being of your family. He couldn’t put you in an uncomfortable position, couldn’t ruin your hard work.

And he was terrified of these feelings. They were too new, too raw.

You pinched your lips together and nodded, avoiding his eyes. He clenched his jaw hard, hating the resigned look on your face. Why did you look so defeated? Without saying anything, you walked past him and left the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Part 9

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagines #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel imagine #bucky barnes imagine #redgillanwrites #redgillan

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sweetsubharry · 3 years

Note

hi! do you have any fic recs of like really fluffy one shots

Hiya!! yes I do!! Aren’t they just the best sometimes?? Sorry this took me a few days to do! I had over 260 fics to go through on ao3 just under fluff (I really need to tidy my bookmarks!) 💖 There’s 79 in this list so it’s a long one!! ^-^

please stay safe and read the tags everyone! :)

freeze this moment in a frame and stay like this by rosesau

Harry (not so) secretly crushes on the cute footie player and fills pages with sketches of him.

Thunder started it by booloveshiscuppycake

Harry's always been scared of thunder storms. But louis' always been there to comfort him. Friendship and comfort turn into love. (Fluffy as shit)

but he cant be what you need (if he's eighteen) by lingerielarries

“I need you to do something for me.” Harry said, pinching his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger.

“It seems like you’re asking me to kill for you, H.” Louis laughed nervously.

“It’s nothing that drastic, I promise. It’s just. I don’t think it’s a secret that I’m not a.. normal eighteen year old.” Louis furrowed his eyebrows at that, narrowing his eyes at the younger boy.

“Are people giving you a hard time?” Louis wondered. Harry shifted in his seat and brushed some of his fringe off his forehead.

“Yeah, that’s. That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.” Harry swallowed nervously. He could feel the sweat pooling at his hairline so he wiped it with the sleeve of his sweater. “I need you to uhm, pretend to be my boyfriend.”

the one where harry is sick of getting bullied and casts louis as the hot punk boyfriend to scare them away. louis needs harry to return the favor.

punk!louis and flowerchild!harry

the love is ours to make (so we should make it) by lingerielarries

“I’m.. Harry. I nanny? For Ernest and Doris?” Harry responded.

“A nanny? How old even are you? You look twelve.” Louis remarked. Something caught Louis’ eye, and a closer look revealed that Harry had a coat of pink nail polish on his fingers.

“Nineteen. I’m nineteen.” Harry replied.

“Right. Nineteen, wears pink, flower crowns and paints his nails. Who the actual fuck did my mum hire?”

the one where louis takes some time off from life to return home, only to be met with a strange boy in pink and a flowercrown as the nanny of his siblings.

All I See is You by ElegantSurrender

Even with the blood gushing from his nose, he couldn’t keep his thoughts on anything but the boy in front of him. He was just so… pretty. He smiled to himself, which only seemed to worry his boyfriend more.

“Why’re you smiling?” Louis asked confusedly, moving Harry’s bloody hand away, and replacing it with his, pinching his nose shut with a tissue. “You’re bleeding, and you’re fucking smiling.”

“Seeing you makes me happy.”

(or the one where Harry has a bloody nose and Louis takes care of him, and Harry really really loves Louis)

Pretty Blue Eyes (I don't care about the nightmares) by justgotowisharder

Harry has nightmares, Louis hates sharing the bed, they end up talking about dreams, they read Freud and they fall in love in the process.

Breathe by dontlietomehoney

Harry has an asthma attack and Louis is scared to death. What follows after though, scares both boys, pulling them apart and bringing them together.

with your love we could breathe underwater by luminescents

Harry’s brow furrows, a look of confusion spreading over his face. “But I am real. I exist, see,” he says, raising a hand out of the water and wiggling his fingers at Louis.

Louis finds himself relaxing a bit. Harry seems harmless really. And he’s quite cute, for something that’s not supposed to exist. If Louis is indeed having a hallucination right now, at least it’s a cute one.

AU where Harry is a mermaid, Louis is a human, and they both discover a lot more than they anticipated.

yes, you make my life worthwhile by orphan_account

Harry whispers to him that this feels like every dream he’s had for the last three years and Louis kisses his temple, behind his ear, across his cheeks and by the edge of his jaw. He runs the back of his finger across Winnie’s sleep-warm cheeks and sighs, the weight of the world finally off his shoulder.

Louis' a pediatrician, Harry's a preschooler teacher, and they're having a baby.

Weigh Us Down (We're In Love) by orphan_account

Harry’s eyes widen slightly at that. “We’re friends?”

Louis nods eagerly, smiling even wider. “Of course we are! You’re like, my first ever friend here. We just moved in, you see. Did I already tell you about that? Anyway! Maybe you can stay for dinner and I can show you my toys?”

Harry smiles. “You’ll let me play with you?”

Louis nods again, excited. “Of course!” He looks thoughtful for a moment, and then he’s slipping off the couch and crouching in front of Harry. “Oh, and Mum always kisses my wounds after she fixes them up. It makes me feel loads better all the time, so.” He leans forward and puckers his lips, pressing them over the bandage on Harry’s knee.

(harry and louis first meet when they’re eight and ten. this is their story throughout the years.)

Breathe by Jade_eyed

Can you write a Larry high school AU where Harry's a sophomore and Louis' his senior boyfriend and Harry's being bullied during class and has a panic attack and all he's saying is 'Louis' so someone goes into louis' classroom and gets him and louis' like freaking out when he finds out and just really fluffy and stuff i just need this okay

[ I changed it a bit , I'm sorry babe I tried. :( ]

Cause If You Let Me, Here's What I'll Do by stylesforstiles

Five times where Harry is Louis' baby

Zero Means Nothing When I'm With You by StripedAndBowtied

Louis doesn't know what he's looking for until he finds it.

Harry just knows he may defy his gender norms, with his height and clumsiness, but that doesn't mean he doesn't want litters of pups running around while he does domestic things all day long.

In other words, boy meets boy and no one can stop pining.

All my senses come to life by erikaeurekajoe

And it was true. Harry's senses were all coming to life, on overdrive in fact because a handsome blue-eyed stranger was holding his hands.

Because of Louis Tomlinson's Arse by AggressiveStress

One in which Harry is a clumsy Uni student that first sees Louis leaning over, picking up his things with his arse very prominent. Harry then falls down the stairs and Louis- wearing a nice little beanie- helps him back to his feet.

In All Its Imperfections by BriaMaria

From: Louis Tomlinson To: Undisclosed Recipients

Hello!

I’ve asked the front desk and you lovely folks are the ones who are on the same level as me in the car park. I found a to-do list today that looked somewhat important because it has lines of poetry scribbled at the bottom that seemed like they might be for a card project. The stationary has a moose in a canoe at the top of it (and he is quite adorable). Let me know if it’s yours!

Cheers!

“Oh. My. Fucking. God,” Harry whispered, his eyes darting over the sentences again willing them not to make sense. They did, they did make sense. “Oh. My. Bloody. Fucking. God.”

The next thing he knew he was on the floor, staring at the ceiling, with a very concerned Liam hovering over his head.

"What happened, mate?" Liam asked.

Harry just pointed to his computer.

Liam bent over Harry’s desk to read the email. “What? This isn’t bad. Is that your to-do list? Did you finally come up with the inside text for those cards?”

“Leeyum" he groaned. “It’s what’s on the list.”

“Oh,” Liam paused for a beat. “Is it dirty stuff?”

Harry nodded.

There was more silence. And then, “Dirty stuff with Louis?”

Delirious in Love by yourpricelessadvice (orphan_account)

Louis is there for Harry waking up from minor surgery; he wouldn't miss it for the world. For two reasons.

Stars Will Align For Us by 2tiedships2

"The serial monogamist is single," Niall said by way of introduction when he sat down across from Harry in the canteen.

Harry sipped his chocolate milk. "What are you going on about?"

"Your alpha dream boat," Niall said. "That tiny little footie player? I heard from Hannah that he's broken it off with his boyfriend so he’s single and ready to flamingle. Now's the time to make your move."

Harry sipped his chocolate milk harder to keep himself from replying.

Or the one where Harry is an omega at a loss of how to get past his pining and gain the attention of Louis...especially considering the alpha is always in a relationship.

(twenty minutes later) wound up in the hospital by callmelover

“Baby, I think a quick trip to A&E might do you some good, hm?” Louis keeps his voice as calm as possible. He doesn't want to startle Harry or make him scared, but he knows that Harry’s fever is too high and he can't risk Harry choking himself into another attack when he's so poorly.

He hears a sharp intake of breath come for Harry and he knows Harry is starting to panic. Louis moves his hand from Harry's hair to his back, rubbing circles into his sweat-soaked shirt.

“No, no. Shh, don't worry, darling. Everything is okay, you’ll be okay. I just know that the doctors will be able to make you feel much better much sooner than I can...Just want you to get healthy as soon as possible, okay?”

or the one where harry has the flu and louis is a protective, nervous-wreck of a boyfriend

You live in my heart by styleztomlinson

As soon as they’re done with their set, Louis only has one thing on his mind and that’s to get out of there as soon as possible.or,Harry is sick during their performance at the iHeartRadio festival. Afterwards, Louis takes cares of his baby, and dotes on his husband.

Take Care by secretlylarry

Louis really does love to take care of Harry when he's sick.

if we got nothing, we got us by tumsa

Harry is Louis' baby and he's sick as well.

Peppermint and Lavender (and Coffee) by 2tiedships2

“He was there again,” Louis announced by way of greeting. “Lottie was right and she can never know.”

"What the fuck are you talking about?” Niall asked as he snapped his laptop closed.

“The omega, Niall. He was there today. Just sitting in the corner looking pretty. Or at least his back is. He hasn’t turned around when I’m available to see. I know he’s beautiful though.”

"Okay?” Niall questioned. “What does that have to do with Lottie?”

Louis let out a huff. "She told me I shouldn’t work at a coffee shop. She was right.”

Or the one where Louis might have met the love of his life in a coffee shop. But that’s not how it’s supposed to happen.

So Long I've Been Waiting by kikikryslee

Niall held up his glass in a toast. “Cheers.” Harry stared at Louis as he brought the glass up to his lips, unsure of what to do. It wasn’t like he could refuse the drink, but he certainly didn’t want to have any champagne. Louis monitored everyone else, and as soon as they all had their heads tilted back, drinking their mimosa, he reached out and knocked Harry’s glass right out of his hand, sending it crashing to the floor. “Oh, no!” Louis pretended to be shocked at what had just happened. “Harry, you’re so clumsy. You dropped your glass.” “Yes,” Harry said seriously. “I am very clumsy.” --- Or, the one where Harry and Louis are having their first baby, and keeping it a secret until the end of the first trimester is a lot harder than they thought it would be.

Nothing's Gonna Stop Me But Divine Intervention by kikikryslee

“So… what’s next on the soul mate search?” Louis asked. “I don’t know,” Harry answered. “Whatever I’m doing isn’t working. I’m not finding him anywhere.” “He’ll get here. I know it." “Yeah. I know he’s out there somewhere; I just have to figure out where.” --- Or, the soul mate AU where Harry overthinks everything having to do with finding the love of his life, and Louis doesn't think there's a Mr. Right for him at all. It takes them a while to realize that their soul mate is the person they want it to be: each other.

We Made These Memories for Ourselves by supernope

Breath held, Harry squints his eyes open and focuses on the first stick. A blue line. Harry breathes out an unsteady breath. He’s pretty sure he read that one blue line is a negative, but he fishes the box from the bottom of the pile just to make sure.

“Negative,” he confirms, voice echoing around the small room. “Next.”

Now that he’s feeling a little less shaky, he scans the rest of the tests at once, is met with a headache-inducing mixture of pink plus signs and blue double lines. His heart rate picks up until it’s pounding triple-time in the base of his throat and the pit of his stomach, thundering in his ears and throbbing in his temples. He flips over the rest of the boxes slowly, but he knows what they’re going to say before he even looks.

[or, Louis is a footballer, Harry owns a bakery, and they're having a baby.]

taken by the wind by scrunchyharry

When he decided to move to London with his sister, Harry thought he would finally get to learn how to control his magic. He couldn't possibly have predicted that he would fall for her neighbour.

Or the one where Harry is a clumsy witch and Louis is making everything worse just by existing.

Piece by Piece by SadaVeniren

He rubbed his hand over his lower stomach and closed his eyes. Louis was going to lose his fucking mind.

(aka Harry tells Louis he's pregnant and it goes as expected)

And We Linger On by stylesforstiles

Harry is pouting. Louis takes care of him

There's a Hole In My Soul, Can You Fill It? by stylesforstiles

Sometimes Harry is so tired. Louis always wants to fix it.

one glance and the avalanche drops by Wankerville

It's strange, honestly, having someone so gorgeous in his kitchen, and not only physically gorgeous, but, like, the everything else gorgeous. The type of gorgeous that Louis wants his life to always be covered in. The type of gorgeous he wants lying in sweatpants and an old t-shirt on his couch when he gets home from class. The type of gorgeous he wants to have shoving crisps down the front of his shirt. The type of goddamn gorgeous he wants to kiss, and coddle, and like, love.

Which is ridiculous- he doesn't know him. Pfft.

(or an au wherein louis buys a christmas tree and harry is the boy in leggings who delivers it. they are a christmas classic.)

Do Not Falter (There's a Star Ahead) by LadyLondonderry

It's Christmas Eve, and every single one of Louis' family members are crowded inside his little flat. Really, what more could he ask for on his birthday?

The present he never knew he wanted - in the form of an omega from his past - might just make this his most memorable Christmas.

Right Here Waiting by lovelarry10

Louis and Harry are expecting a baby. Harry's heavily pregnant and nesting madly, determined to make their home ready for their baby.

Blow Out the Candles, Baby by iwillpaintasongforlou

Louis' been planning Harry's 20th birthday party for weeks, and Harry's too sick to move. Louis might be the kind of sap who tries to nurse him back to health with cuddles and jokes and cupcakes for two.

Never Let You Fall by iwillpaintasongforlou

Harry slips on stage and gets a minor concussion, and Louis insists that he spend the night in the hospital just in case. He then turns into a protective baby lion because that is his Harry and he'll be damned if anything happens to him on Louis' watch. Harry rolls his eyes a lot but doesn't really mind.

Asthma and Bad Jokes by Larry_Klaine_Stylinson

When Harry has an asthma attack on stage, Louis has to go and help him. He leaves Niall in charge of keeping the audience entertained.

All I Need is Oxygen (and You) by lululawrence

There are only two ways to navigate Bloomfield High School: become popular or make yourself invisible.

With the help of his best mate Niall, Harry’s introduction to high school hadn’t been half bad. Despite being a “bandie” – the lowest of the low in the ancient hierarchy of high school –Harry had somehow managed to survive freshman year relatively unscathed. So naturally, Harry would have been perfectly happy to resume his position of invisible trombone player number four for the remainder of high school. But one day something drastic happened, something that would change the course of Harry’s entire existence (probably).

It was the last football game of his freshman year, and the band was back in the stands after performing a rousing rendition of Bloomfield’s alma mater during half time. Harry was gracelessly wiping the slobber from the mouthpiece of his trombone when he saw him.

Louis Tomlinson.

Or...a High School AU where Harry is a bandie and Louis is the epitome of cool, so naturally, Harry must find a way to get his attention and win his affections.

i’d burn this city down to show you the light by you_explode

Harry's a sheltered rich kid and Louis's a punk with a heart of gold. They meet when Louis breaks into Harry's house, Harry obtains an instant and all-encompassing crush, and they spend the summer falling into a whirlwind romance.

put your head on my shoulder by wayfared

Niall gives Harry until the end of marching season to either a) make a move on Louis Tomlinson or b) get the fuck over him. Either is easier said than done. Basically, your High School AU with a drum beat.

we should get jerseys, 'cause we make a good team by ellisaco

Harry's not very good at football, but he's aces at cheering Louis on.

Snow by hlftanna

Louis hid something from him. Harry was 100% sure of that. He knew him better than he knew himself. And. He. Hid. Something. From. Him. Harry just hasn't figured out what. Because if Louis wanted to hide something from anyone he usually succeeded because he was Louis Tomlinson.

Use Your Words by zedi

based off this prompt: collage au where jock!harry always serenades flowercrown!louis with love songs in their music class. what nobody knows is that harry actually kinda means the words he sings.

But instead it's Louis as the jock and Harry as the flowerchild because I do what I want.

see the truth (it's me for you) by orphan_account

If you asked Louis the first day of his French Literature class what he’d be doing on the last, he’d probably never have guessed it would involve helping a poorly Harry Styles study for the final exam. Good thing he’s not a betting man.

(Or the one where Louis and Harry spend an entire semester ignoring each other after a one-night stand, only to come face to face when Harry manages to catch the stomach flu during finals week. Sometimes fate is funny like that.)

calling out for somebody to hold tonight by heartinsidemine

“Dunno why I can’t sleep,” is the first thing Harry says into the still, quiet night.

“New flat, new noises,” Louis murmurs, finally setting the kettle on the stove and turning properly toward him. “New responsibilities, too, eh? Second year, you’re working your way up in the world.”

Harry rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “Nothing’s really new, though, is it? I mean, the location, but… I’ve got the same job I had last year, same basic courses, same workload…” He sighs out, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You and me are in the same boat, though,” Louis murmurs to him. He hates seeing Harry like this, even though rationally he knows that he can’t do anything about Harry’s insomnia. “Finding it difficult to sleep myself. Was gonna turn on the telly, maybe the cooking channel until I fall asleep. Care to join me?”

He doesn’t think twice about the offer before making it; it only makes sense. They’re both exhausted and they both sleep better with a cuddle, and anyway Louis would absolutely rather have a conversation partner than only the walls of his room for company.

Running Down To The Riptide by sweaterpawstyles

"I can't give you your present yet, Lou."

Louis furrowed his brows. "And why is that, my love?"

Harry smiled at his lap. "Because your present is under my sweater," he pulled his free hand that wasn't laced with Louis' and gently laid it on his stomach. "I'm pregnant."

It's New Year's Eve and Harry has a surprise under his sweater

Song For The Springtime by sunshiner

“Cherry blossoms,” Harry mumbles. “The solution’s cherry blossoms.”

Uni AU.

the happiest place in our universe by tippytoetomlinstyles

Harry holds Louis’ hand and looks around at all the exciting and beautiful things and Louis looks at him because he finds him the most beautiful and exciting thing there is.

or the one where Louis takes Harry to Disneyland and Harry convinces Louis to wear Mickey Mouse ears to match his Minnie Mouse ears.

Made From Love by lovelarry10

It's almost Christmas, and amongst the preparations, Louis' realised something about his husband Harry.

Harry, however, seems to be oblivious.

Louis' determined to open Harry's eyes and make him realise the real magic that's happening this Christmas...

Another Constellation to Trace by screwstyles

Louis wiggles his eyebrows. “I’m winning that bet.”

“What bet?” comes Niall’s excited voice from behind them, followed by footsteps. “I wanna be in on the bet!” he shouts, prompting Harry to quickly roll down his shirt sleeve and straighten his shirt where it’s still crinkly after Louis’ hands.

Niall takes one look at them and purses his lips in a tight line. “Were you guys making out again? Isn’t the fire meant to die down a bit after eight years?”

“Trust me, the fire is still very much alive,” Louis winks at Harry. “One could even say it’s cooking something.”

Mpreg AU: Louis and Harry bet on who can keep Harry's pregnancy a secret for longer. Neither of them is particularly good at it, and it doesn't help that their soulmate tattoos make it even harder.

another pair of feet by honey_beeing

where Harry is pregnant and Louis is an oblivious idiot.

We Were Made to Love by supernope

“Everything all sorted? Need help with the buckles? I know they’re a bit tricky in this compartment.”

The voice startles Louis out of his daze, and he turns toward the voice to let him know he figured it out. When he catches sight of the owner of the voice, though, his response dies in his throat. Whatever he had imagined the conductor of a children’s train that rides around the shopping centre in Leeds would look like, this is certainly not it.

Leaning through the window, arms folded across the sill, is a green-eyed angel with cherry red lips stretched wide in a smile and dimples flirting in his cheeks. A black conductor’s hat is the only confirmation that this is not some gorgeous stranger who’s come to flirt with Louis through the window of a children’s train, but is just a man doing his job.

[or, Harry drives a kiddie train in the shopping centre for the summer and is obsessed with babies, and Louis never stood a chance.]

here comes the sun by orphan_account

“Everything’s going to be fine,” Louis promises, his pink, chapped lips moving slowly in the cold. It matches the beanie on his head—pink, because they found out this morning that they’re having a girl and that’s just.

Harry’s going to be a dad. To a little girl. Five months from now he’ll be holding her in his arms, and she’ll be so lovely and small.

They’re going to have a spring baby and she’s probably going to have Louis’ eyes. What a blessing that would be. Harry crosses his fingers on the hand inside his pocket, hoping that she does. He’ll love her either way—blue or green or even brown eyes, it doesn’t matter—but he’d really like them to be blue, he thinks.

[Harry is a pediatric specialist, Louis is a neurosurgeon. All they want is a baby.]

So Put Your Hands In (The Holes of My Sweater) by Kat_rawr

“Are you gonna kiss me then?” He asks so quiet he isn’t even sure Louis heard him.

“I think it’s bad luck if I don’t.“ Louis’ breath is hot on Harry’s skin in the cold air. They stand in the dark; Louis’ face only lit up by the yellow-ish light from the street light a few metres away. The light over the door of their building hasn’t worked in years.

“Okay,” Harry says, and of course his cheeks heat up. There are definitely butterflies in stomach and his mouth is definitely dry.

or,

Harry and Louis go on a lot of not-dates

A Little Kind of Magic by Star55

A tiny tale of Louis' Very Important Birthday and Christmas at Hogwarts that Harry loves celebrating with his best friend whom he absolutely is not in love with. No matter what Niall says. (He's a little in love with Louis.)

it tastes like you, only sweeter by EmmyLouWho

Sometimes Harry hates being a second year, like when all his older friends get to go to Hogsmeade and he has to stay behind in the castle. Luckily, Harry has a Louis to make everything better.

For the prompt: “I’m not allowed to go to Hogsmeade but you always tell me stories about it and bring me candy from Honeydukes”

Sun-Dappled by QuickedWeen

Louis and his best friend Harry are in their seventh year at Hogwarts, facing down their future together. Louis has been in love with his best friend for as long as he can remember, and he begins to feel a sense of urgency as the second semester begins. Finally he hatches a plan to tell Harry about his feelings on Harry's birthday.

Sweet Like Sunshine by orphan_account

When Louis saves him from some seventh years bullying him on his lack of Quidditch skills, Harry takes offense. Louis offers to teach him to make up for it. They fall in love somewhere along the way.

Featuring one exasperated Niall, trips to Hogsmede and many flying sessions.

Follow Me Down This Time by supernope

Harry first noticed Louis in his second term at Hogwarts, and despite three years of inventing ways to stumble across Louis, he's never managed to actually work up the courage to speak to him. Also known as, self-indulgent Hogwarts AU, because every fandom needs Hogwarts AUs.

For Reasons Wretched and Divine by panicmoonwalk

Niall’s head was sitting in the fireplace, wide grin lighting up his features as flames licked the bright tips of his hair. Louis promptly dropped his tray at the sight.

“Bloody hell!” He yelled, half at the sudden appearance of Niall in the fire and half at the scalding cocoa he’d just dropped on his bare foot. “What are you doing?!”

Niall just continued to grin, clearly highly amused by Louis hopping on one foot and desperately trying to search for a weapon he could use to beat his friend’s head out of the fireplace.

“Well,” Niall began. “We’re going on an adventure!”

Or, the one where Louis and Harry’s Christmas holiday at Hogwarts is rudely interrupted when they’re dragged off on a tropical wizard’s vacation, featuring some angry centaurs, a spell gone wrong, and the ‘weirdest birthday anyone’s ever had. Ever’.

Loving with a Little Twist by hrrytomlinson

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know Niall! I just promised my mother I’m bringing my boyfriend - a boyfriend I don’t have - to Thanksgiving dinner. What should I do? I can’t call back and be like, ‘Oh yeah mom, that boyfriend I said that I have, I don’t actually have. Sorry to disappoint you.’ My life is ruined.” Harry returns to suffocating himself with the pillow.

Niall laughs and Harry growls at his best friend’s unwarranted happiness in this life-ending situation. Harry is fucked. Fuck. He needs a boyfriend. Fuck.

(or a thanksgiving themed fake/pretend relationship au)

everywhere (i wanna be with you) by itiswhatitisbutterfly

Harry and Louis meet because they have terrible friends, they fall in love because something feels right in a world of uncertainty and shifting grounds. Louis is an actor and Harry is a model at the top of his game, the best things in life are the most unexpected ones and the things that hit you when you are least expecting it.

Featuring winter in London, nights in Paris, early mornings in New York, burning heat in Monte Carlo and an enduring love spent transcending four corners of the globe.

on a wednesday, in a cafe by wreckedboyfriends

“What can I get for you today?” he asked without looking up, arranging the last of the pastries.

“Have any recommendations? Never been here before, actually.” Harry hit his head on the top of the case in his haste to look at the source of the voice. It was a really beautiful voice, small and high and just lovely, if a voice could be lovely. Harry thought so. “Alright, mate?” the man asked when Harry finally composed himself, rubbing the top of his head as he took his place at the register.

Harry opened his eyes, and fuck. If Harry had thought his voice was lovely, the man himself was on a whole other level. “Alright, mate?” He repeated and shit. Harry had been openly staring for quite awhile, hadn’t he?

“Yeah,” Harry replied, and it came out sounding like a semi trailer running over gravel. He cleared his throat. “Yeah,” he repeated. “Um, the cherry danish is quite good, I think. ’S my favorite.”

The man smiled. “One cherry danish it is, then.”

OR Harry’s spent the last year with six locks on his door, a pair of too-flamboyant boots buried in the back of his closet, and insecurity issues the size of a mammoth. Louis changes some of that, but Harry changes the most.

I Long For You by AnotherAnonymousWriter

Thirty minutes later, he's sat on a bench in Hyde Park with a book in his lap and a travel mug with hot tea in his hand. Not far from where he's sat, a group of boys are playing football and a bunch of children are chasing each other. Life is good.

Or at least, life is good until he hears a familiar “LOOK OUT!” and sees a football flying in the direction of his face.

And then everything is black.

(Harry gets hit in the head by various objects and falls for a boy with blue eyes.)

Let It Snow by thebrainisafunnyplace

Bakery owner Harry Styles is always cold, until he hires local university student, Louis Tomlinson to work as a cashier. When the storm of the year hits, the boys find themselves stuck together inside the bakery the night before Christmas Eve. Luckily, they have each other to keep warm.

everything i can arrange, every part of me you change by orphan_account

“Don’t you try that shit with me,” Niall spits the second he reaches Louis, pulling off the hood with force. “What the hell is this?” He plops down next to Louis on the empty bleacher and unceremoniously pushes a sheet of crumpled paper in his face.

Netflix and Chill Buddy Application

It’s like no matter how hard Louis tries, he can’t seem to run away from this stupid fucking flyer. All the girls (and some of the boys) in every one of his classes have been talking about it all week. It’s on every wall of every building on campus. Louis went for a jog last night and he nearly tripped and died over a loose one on the football track.

[Harry needs a big spoon and Louis refuses to let anyone steal his position. Based on this post.]

No words by becharlatan

Harry is a music student who never talks because he's a total introvert. Louis happens to bump into him by accident and as if like the constellations, the two have aligned their paths together despite their differences.

Sun Emoji Moon Emoji by mybeanieandme

For the prompt:

University!au: Harry works at a cafe as the busboy and Louis just really wants to get to know him. (Louis pines for an insecure Harry for a semester)

nonstop earthquake dreams of you by lumineres

And there's heat behind it, blazing, plasmatic, like stars crashing together, like an explosion in space, like a supernova, like a black hole--everything else sucked out of existence. There's no bed and there's no pillow and they're not lying down, just floating somewhere, somehow, and there's no room and there's no X Factor house and there's no Niall snuffling or Liam's deep, even breathing and there's no wind or traffic outside and there's no hum of the heating unit and it's all just Louis. All encompassingly Louis.

or, harry falls hard and finds louis already at the bottom

Kiss From A Rose by lovelarry10

Harry is the quiet one in the office no one ever notices. Until Louis does, that is. When notes start appearing on Harry’s desk, he ponders who is behind the kind words, oblivious to Louis’ attempts to get his attention...

Black Cat by lalune15

Inspired by this tumblr post (not asked or requested): fic where louis works at a haunted house jumping out at people and harry’s friends drag him along even though he doesn’t really like haunted houses. when louis jumps out to scare their group, harry freaks out and accidentally jumps into louis’s arms. louis just squeaks. harry ends up sitting there with louis the rest of his shift and totally doesn’t come back every night after that.

Be Mine, For Always by zams

Louis is happy when Harry is happy. That's what Louis wants, and so when Louis starts feeling weird when Harry cuddles with Liam, Zayn, or Niall instead of him, he keeps quiet. But the burning, uncomfortable feeling Louis gets deep in his stomach when he sees Harry contentedly nuzzling Liam's neck, or Harry's arms and legs tangled around Niall like an octopus, or Harry's face smushed in Zayn's stomach as Zayn plays with his hair only gets worse as the days go by.

Loosen Up My Buttons by softfonds

The beautiful man opened this bakery about a year ago. He remembered the exact day he came: a glum, rainy morning in the middle of February, which instantly turned brighter the minute he saw him. The man had come in with some paint buckets and tools, and Louis doubted he would be able to fix up the drab place all by himself. But as he walked down the stairs at the end of the day and saw the man standing there in the middle of a gorgeous pink and white shop, clearly proud of his work, Louis fell in love at first sight. If only he knew how to talk to him.

Usually, Louis knew how to flirt. He prided himself on it. But every time he looked at the beautiful man, he completely forgot how to form sentences, and there was no way he could go up to him only to make a fool of himself. That was the last thing he needed.

Or, Louis owns a tattoo shop called Pretty in Ink, Harry owns a bakery called Rolling Scones, they haven't been introduced, and Valentine’s Day seems like the perfect opportunity to finally talk to the man Louis has been pinning over for the past year. And they both end up with more love than they bargained for.

Coffee Cups and Football Boots by kimtaedumb

Harry’s stood behind the counter again, but this time he’s painting his nails. Louis strolls up to the counter and, thanks to his no brain-to-mouth filter, blurts out, “Isn’t that a little girlish, Haz?” leaning closer to inspect.

Harry lets out a little huff as his hand slips, “Oh, damn, now I’ve messed it up,” he pouts and turns to Louis, “Why should making myself feel pretty be girly?”

Louis holds up his hands in surrender, “’M not judging, jus’ curious is all.”

(The entirely cheesy and cliché Christmas AU, in which Harry doesn’t give a damn what people think about him – mostly – and Louis may be a little bit in love.

Alternatively, the one in which Harry owns a café that’s barely scraping by and Louis is a footballer and he takes Harry away for Christmas.

Featuring Zayn as a cocky little shit that most definitely needs to be put back in his place, Niall as the loveable Irish dude who drinks too much and flirts with Zayn more than the average girl, and Liam who loves everyone but hates them all at the same time.)

you make my whole world feel so right when it's wrong by orphan_account

“Curly?” Louis says, stepping into Harry’s sight. “You okay?” Harry looks up from where he has two things in his hands, a thick winter coat sized for a newborn, and a sweatshirt fitting a grown man such as himself. He looks up at Louis, stricken, and holds them out for him to see. “They’re the same price,” he says. “They’re both forty dollars! Forty dollars for such little material.”

(or, Harry is pregnant and stops at the mall to buy cheap baby clothes. Louis has extra money from working a long shift, and he can't think of a better way to spend it than on him.)

you were the ocean, i was drawn into you by by orphan_account

where harry takes pictures and worries too much and louis plays guitar.

i'll be your sunflower by scagnetism

“What do you think’s gonna stop us now?” Harry says cheekily, laughter in his voice as he looks up at Louis. “Something’s gotta get in our way like always, doesn’t it?”

“Ha,” Louis grins, kissing his cheek and holding open the door for him as they make their way toward the car. “Nothing’s gonna interrupt us this time. ‘S gonna be perfect, just like Pumpkin.”

Or, a few interruptions aren't going to stop Harry from having a perfect pregnancy and having the family he and Louis have always dreamed of.

Send Me Your Pillow (The One That You Dream On) by flowercrownfemme

Harry is embarrassed to realize he's nesting but can't stop stealing Louis' things for his nest.

Short fluffy o/o gaybo drabble with lots of cuddles and softness and sock stealing <3

As one we are everything/We are everything we need by louloubaby92

Harry finally marries the love of his life. He's got the mating mark, he's got Louis' ring on his finger.

And now, he's on his honeymoon. Louis is but a door away, waiting for him.

Honestly, he doesn't understand why he's nervous.

only guilty of loving you by sweetrevenge

After Harry gets set up with his co-worker's alpha friend Louis, he's expecting some pleasant conversation, free dinner, and maybe a new friend. What he doesn't expect, however, is that Louis' arrival in his life begins a life of crime Harry never knew he had in him.

A You've Got Mail!AU with a twist.

#Larry Stylinson #ask lots #fic rec #Lottie fic rec #fanfiction #fanfic #larry fanfiction #larry stylinson fanfiction #larry fanfic rec #larry fic rec #larry stylinson fic rec #fluff

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explosionshark · 3 years

Note

how to live here!

here's a special deleted scene that was supposed to go in one of the chapters after rachel and chloe start fighting, but i never really found a place where it made sense. but i always liked it too much to delete it.

The first time Chloe had talked about hanging out in a junkyard, Max had kind of assumed she’d been joking.

She’s been here a few times already since her return to Arcadia Bay, but the novelty of it still hasn’t worn off. Chloe doesn’t seem to mind, letting her wander off, camera in hand, to explore and take photos by herself until she’s halfway through a roll of film and finally satisfied.

Max lets the sound of breaking glass lead her back to Chloe and snaps one more picture. Chloe, broken off hockey stick poised at the highest arc of a big swing, aimed at the sun-bleached head of a mannequin perched atop a splintered milk crate like a fucked up golf ball on a tee.

The arc of the swing is completed. The head goes flying with a sharp crack, landing in a pile of scrap a few feet away. Chloe holds the stick up over her head and cheers.

“You get that, Max?” she calls over her shoulder. “One for the highlight reel.”

“Got it,” Max confirms, reaching up to withdraw the Polaroid as it’s ejected from the camera. She closes the distance between them to show Chloe the shot.

“Sick,” Chloe says, and then twirls the stick in her fingers. “Y’know, I never used to allow press in here before, but maybe that was a mistake. A few more like that and maybe I can finally catch some attention from the big leagues.”

“I can’t imagine they can ignore skills like yours for very long,” Max grins, leaning up on her tiptoes and craning her neck to try to spot the mannequin head in the garbage.

Chloe grins again and mimes another swing. “Wanna take a shot? Ride out my hot streak?”

“I’m good,” Max says.

Chloe nods and shrugs and swings again abruptly, for real, putting the end of the hockey stick through the screen of a boxy old TV on the ground suddenly and loudly enough to make Max jump.

“You sure?” She props a boot on the corner of the TV to hold it in place as she yanks the stick loose. “It’s hella cathartic. You’ve always struck me as having more rage than you’re willing to own up to.”

“Do I really?” Max asks, a little alarmed.

“Maybe I’m projecting,” Chloe concedes.

They wander further, Max trailing behind as Chloe beats the ever-loving shit out of anything even vaguely breakable in her path.

“Remember when you actually played?” Max asks, after the fifteenth minute of uninterrupted smashing.

Chloe pauses, turning on her heel and drawing the bandage on her arm across her forehead to wipe away a bead of sweat. “Oh hell yeah. They called me The Destroyer.”

“No they didn’t,” Max rolls her eyes. “Only you called yourself that.”

“Me and both our dads,” Chloe points out. “Yours even made a sign.”

“Oh yeah,” Max laughs. “Y’know, I think you were the hockey hooligan kid he always wanted. I couldn’t tell if he was disappointed or relieved when I quit the team.”

Her dad was a huge hockey fan and had been elated when she and Chloe had agreed when he showed them the newspaper ad he’d found seeking players for the local youth hockey team. William and their mothers had been a little more hesitant, Max remembered, but no one enough to really object to their joining.

Chloe took to it immediately, aggressive, competitive, and already more naturally athletic than Max had ever been. Max’s tenure was only a week long, but she’d remained a devoted fan of the team long after, going along with her parents to every game, home and away.

“Relieved, I think,” Chloe speculates. “You were a really small twelve year old.”

“I was appropriately sized for twelve,” Max protests. “You were tall.”

“Pint-sized,” Chloe teases. “Microscopic. Besides, you never had the heart for it. The bloodlust.”

“I liked the skating part. But yeah, you always had more fun with it than me. Did you ever get back to sports?”

Chloe shakes her head, quick and jerky, almost offended. “I never liked sports. I liked hockey ‘cause you guys would always come to my games and stuff. But then…after…”

Chloe missed the first couple weeks of practice, after William had died. It was Max’s dad that got her to go back, at Joyce’s insistence, hoping that the sport could be an outlet, that trying to preserve as much normalcy as possible would help Chloe deal with her grief.

Max and her dad had stayed in the bleachers through that first practice without William. Chloe’s play had been sloppier, and she’d left the ice early, face splotchy and red, thick hot tears running down her face into her jersey. It hadn’t gotten easier from there. It made sense that Chloe had stopped going entirely once Max’s family had moved.

“Anyway, can you even imagine me playing for Blackwell?” Chloe scoffs, brings the hockey stick down on the windshield of an old beat up car. The first blow sends a spiderweb of cracks all through the glass. The second penetrates, a small, fist-sized hole. The third, fourth, and fifth obliterate it completely.

Max closes her eyes, chases the images of a young, grief-stricken Chloe from her mind with this new fantasy. Chloe, hair undyed, strutting through the halls in a red and white letterman jacket. Chloe doing keg stands with Logan and Zach. Chloe with girls like Victoria and Juliet hanging off her arms. Chloe completely and totally ignoring a nerd like her.

“Okay, it’s a little weird,” Max admits, feeling a little embarrassed for the irrational churning in her gut. “You’ve never really been a joiner, huh?”

“Organized sports are so not punk rock,” Chloe says obnoxiously.

“It’s kind of hard to imagine you at Blackwell at all,” Max admits. “I wish I’d come back sooner. Y’know, before you left.”

Chloe’s quiet and Max knew it was a risk to go there at all, but it feels too true to keep to herself so she keeps speaking.

“I didn’t choose to be gone, but,” is it brave or stupid to do this now, actually? Has Chloe been waiting for an apology or will this just make things needlessly awkward and uncomfortable and painful? “I mean I wish I’d handled it differently. That we’d talked more while I’d been away.”

“Yeah,” Chloe shrugs. It feels like Max is on the verge of losing her, so she hurries on before the silence between them stretches too far.

“Can I be honest with you?” Max asks, stomach twisting in knots.

Chloe raises an eyebrow and nods for her to continue.

“I kind of thought,” she pauses and winces. “I mean, I was a little afraid that after I left you just. Wouldn’t want anything to do with me. That you’d replace me.”

“Max, what the fuck?” Chloe lets the words out in a harsh exhale and Max knows that tone of voice. Knows she’s pissed off for real, now.

“I know,” Max cringes, scrubbing a hand down her face. “But, I mean, you were always the cool one, right? And you were going into high school and I was still sleeping with a teddy bear and—”

“This is such bullshit,” Chloe’s voice cracks and Max was not expecting that. “You’re not just— You can’t just replace a best friend! I fucking needed you. I was so… I needed you so much and you hung me out to dry because you were scared I’d stop thinking you were cool?”

“No,” Max hurries to clarify, feeling appropriately breathless for the desperate, drowning sensation overwhelming her. “No, not like that. I just… I didn’t know how to handle it. So, I just kept putting it off, y’know? Like with homework. Remember how many times my mom had to bail me out because I’d wait too long on finishing a project and it wouldn’t be ready by the due date? Only no one could bail me out this time. And the longer I waited, the worse I felt, the more sure I was that you hated me, that you’d scream at me and tell me to stay out of your life. And I was too scared to face that so I…”

“I never hated you,” Chloe says, face caught somewhere between fury and despair. “Fuck, for the longest time all I wanted was to leave here, to be where you were instead.”

“The night you called me,” Max cuts in gently, proud at least when her voice doesn’t shake, “when you tried to run away, I was so scared for you. And I felt guilty because I realized I was wrong, that you still wanted to be my friend, and I knew I didn’t deserve it. I cried myself sick on the ride down with my mom to pick you up. It really freaked her out. But when we got there you just hugged me and you let me hold your hand the entire way back to Arcadia Bay.”

Chloe stays silent, chewing her lip hard enough to make Max wince.

“And even after, even though we were talking again the entire time I was away I’d think about being back here instead. I think about all the years I missed with you and I get mad because it feels kind of like my fault. Like if I’d tried harder it wouldn’t have taken this long. But I can’t fix that now, I know, I’m just glad we’re here now.”

Chloe shakes her head, rough, and throws the beat up hockey stick into a pile behind her. “Max, you fucking—”

She cuts herself and stomps over and Max isn’t sure what she was expecting, but she’s definitely surprised when Chloe wraps her arms around her, drags her close until there’s almost no space between them.

As tight as the hug is, Chloe’s hands hovering over her back are gentle. She’s quiet but her breathing’s rough. It takes a long time for her to speak again; when she does her voice is shaky, quiet. “I never, ever hated you, but I was pissed at you for a really long time.”

“I’m sorry,” Max tries to say but Chloe squeezes her tighter until she falls quiet.

“I got tired of it,” Chloe says. “And it wasn’t fair, either. Not really. We were just kids. God, I fucked so many things up so much worse than that. You don’t know how bad. If you did, you’d think I’m so pathetic. You’d hate it.”

“Chloe Price, you’re so many things, but pathetic has never been one of them,” Max insists, a little startled by the steel in her voice. Chloe tenses in her arms, but doesn’t move away so Max continues, gentler, “I wish I’d been here more. I know you weren’t alone the whole time but still, if I could go back and change anything it’d be trying harder to be a bigger part of your life. It’d be not letting it take so long to get here.”

It’s stupid, she knows, it’s ridiculous to think she could have prevented any of the hard knocks Chloe had taken in her absence but the thing is she’ll never know and Max thinks that she’ll probably always feel responsible somehow.

“God, imagine if we’d had a few years together at Black-Hell,” Chloe says and releases her, finally. She stays close, pushes some hair out of Max’s face. “We would have gotten into so much trouble. Me, you and…” She trails off with a wince but doesn’t linger. “You could have cheated off my science papers. I’d trade you rides around the Bay for homework.”

“Hey,” Max laughs. “Presumptuous. How do you know I would have compromised my morals like that?”

“Oh, you would have,” Chloe says, laugh all low and breathy. “When have you ever been able to say no to these baby blues?”

She bats her lashes facetiously, but the blush staining Max’s face is very real. “Okay, whatever. What else would we have done?”

“Oh, pranks,” Chloe says. “No doubt. We would have pranked it up so hard on those nerds. I always had this idea about semi-permanent hair dye and Victoria’s shampoo bottles, but I never lived in the dorms. And for some reason, Rachel refuses to be my inside man on this one.”

“I’d be down,” Max blurts out, not sure what the sudden pained look on Chloe’s face could have been leading to, but desperate to head it off.

“Wait, for real?” Chloe asks, appropriately distracted and Max realizes suddenly that her hypothetical assent to collusion had just been offered in practice.

“Uh, I mean—”

“No take-backs,” Chloe crows, gleefully. “Holy shit, dude, yes. Okay, I’ve got it worked out pretty well, this is something I’ve been sitting on for a few years at least. First, we’ll need a distraction…”

Chloe’s plan is elaborate, but thorough, and by the time she’s done laying out the details Max isn’t sure she’ll be able to follow through, but she does know that whatever lingering doubts about their friendship she’d had this morning were founded in one-sided insecurity.

“Let me sleep on it,” she says, finally.

“Max,” Chloe whines. “You promised.”

“I did not.”

“I mean, practically.”

“No, I didn’t.”

It’s almost like being a kid again, arguing about something pointless under the midday sun, a little dehydrated but having too much fun together to do something sensible like go back inside. Max has missed this for so long.

She’s deliriously happy she won’t ever have to miss it again.

#life is strange #pricefield #how to live here #ask games #explosionfic

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passivenovember · 3 years

Text

Reach Out and Touch Faith.

Harringrove April, Day Sixteen : Nostalgia.

Steve knows he’s got a stick up his ass about the whole thing.

Feels it wiggle around, amused, when he comes home early from work to find Dawn and Billy dancing around in their PJs to the opening chords of Personal Jesus.

They don’t see him.

Too preoccupied with the music, Dave Gahan’s voice pushing through windows and bursting through walls until Billy’s hips are moving in a way Steve hasn’t seen them do in years.

And Steve isn’t a betting man, but.

He knows that if Billy turned and zeroed in, hips moving like that with Dawn headbanging to dark wave like some sort of hybrid, the perfect combination of the two of them, Steve would be unable to rain on their parade.

His first reaction is to unplug the stereo.

And it’s a crime. To cut the Gretsch short like that, right in the middle of such an iconic riff.

Billy turns, out of breath from doing the limbo under Dawn’s black feather boa. “Oh, here we go.” He says fondly.

Steve ignores him, strictly business. “What the hell are you doing to my living room?”

Dawn’s still going. Arms win milling as she hop-scotches her way across the room toward Steve, forehead slick with sweat.

“I like that song!” She hollers. Right in his ear when she climbs into Steve’s arms like a twelve year old monkey. He sets her down immediately, trying to play it cool.

Dawn and Billy start jumping up and down together, obviously high on adrenaline and Steve feels like shit. For having to be the bad guy all the time.

He sits gingerly on the couch. Tries to tack on his best let’s have a serious discussion face, even as Dawn and Billy continue humming the chorus together.

Billy breaks away, pumping his arm. “How sick is that synth track, kiddo?”

“So sick.” Dawn says. She collapses onto the floor, exhausted. “I think I like that better than the one on Dangerous.”

Steve gapes. “That’s hardly appropriate.”

Billy scowls, indignant. “You’re the one who let Aunt Robin sneak in the first album we ever fu--”

"Bill.”

He shuts up, sighing. “Babe. You’re gonna be cool about this, right?”

“I’m cool!” Steve insists, leaning back on the couch. “I’m the coolest, ask anyone.”

Billy grins, cheeks flushing pink. “Really? ‘Cause you’re acting pretty uncool.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yup,” Billy teases. “Coming in and unplugging the stereo like that. Right in the middle of the riff, too.” Billy whistles low, shaking his head. “Gotta be one of the seven sins.”

“What, cutting a Depeche Mode song in half?” Steve deadpans. “I just would’ve preferred she start out with. Like. Speak and Spell. or something.”

Dawn beams. “What’s that? Can we listen to that one next?”

Billy ignores her, honed in. “Dawn’s twelve now, that’s like. Practically a teenager.”

“Yeah, Dad.” She says smugly. “I’m practically a teenager.”

“Exactly.” Billy triumphs, pasting himself to Steve’s side. “And as a practically-almost-teenager, it’s about time she hears some good music.”

“Hey, you said good music is whatever makes me feel something,” Dawn accuses, sitting bolt upright. “Good music makes your skin all tingly and your tummy do backflips and your heart--”

“I said real music makes you feel something. I never specified what makes it good.” Billy says smugly. “Everything you’ve heard before today is real music but it’s not good music.”

Steve lets Billy fuse their bodies together, wincing as his arm touches miles of sticky skin.

Dawn shrugs her shoulders.

Unbothered.

Unapologetic.

“What you said before, kiddo, about your heart and your tummy. Does this record make you feel like that?” Steve wonders, and Dawn’s nodding her head before he’s even finished.

He sighs. “Go get my cassette case, then. We’ve got some work to do.”

With her Walkman turned up as high as it will go, muttering along to the words as if in prayer, Dawn grows up before their eyes.

Two new copies of Violator are purchased before the year is out. Once because it’s played so much the wheels fall off, and again because Joey steals the new one.

Billy gets a phone call from Max the day after it goes missing. “The World Wide Web is an evil, disgusting place.”

Billy snorts. “Pretty sure kids are calling it the Net these days, grandma. Keep up.”

“I don’t want to keep up.” She snaps. “Four years. A whole kindergarten age child ago I force Joey to sit down and listen to my cassettes--”

“Your cassettes?” Billy mumbles, alarmed. “No wonder the kid’s purging himself on Steve’s shit.”

“Oh fuck off. That’s where he heard them?”

Billy plays dumb.

Max catches on instantly. “He’s been locked in his room, listening to Policy of Truth all day. I just don’t understand what’s so appealing about a bunch of sad boys--”

“Be nice.”

“Do you really think the kids are old enough to listen to that shit, man?” Max sounds like she’s coming apart at the edges. Scattered to the wind. “I mean. He left his room twice. Once to make a sandwich and again to borrow one of my skirts.”

Billy grins. “Ah. So he got his hands on some pictures of Martin Gore, that was fast--”

“He tore the thing to shreds, Billy.”

And Billy doesn’t get what the problem is, many of Joyce’s tattered Sunday skirts hanging in his closet even now.

He shrugs. “’S more punk that way.”

“God. Name the kid after his freaky uncle and the kid will deliver.” Max retorts miserably. She takes a deep breath. “What the fuck am I gonna do?”

“Dunno. Remove the stick from your ass?”

“Ha-ha.” Max spits, but. It sounds like she’s smiling. “Speaking of sticks up asses. Did Steve have a cow?”

Billy shrugs again, wrapping the phone chord around his wrist. “Whole barn, more like. But I think I convinced him.”

“Of what? That the perversion of our youth is okay?”

“No, that the kids are getting older.” Billy says. He doesn’t get it, why he’s the only one in touch with reality. “Joey’s Fifteen, Dawn’ll be thirteen in a couple months. They’re not little kids anymore, Max, they’re teenagers.”

She sighs. “So we’re supposed to let them listen to whatever they want.”

“Within reason. Susan and Neil would’ve bought the barn at full price if we hadn’t snuck around.”

Max makes a noise. “I never listened to--”

“N.W.A?”

“Fuck you, they have an incredible social commentary on the issues faced by disenfranchised people in the--”

“Check mate.”

Max falls silent. And then, glumly, “I hate you for always being right.”

Billy leans against the wall, chuckling. “I’m your big brother. Comes with the territory.”

When they get Dawn’s birthday list, only one thing is circled in red.

Joey and I want to see Depeche Mode live.

Steve wonders if he can make that happen.

#harringrove #harringrove april #depeche mode #so yeah #idk what this is #I've just been thinking about how my parents had some pretty cool shit in their crates upstairs that I never appreciated until I was around #Dawn's age #and now that music follows me around #There's something so personal #and ritualistic #about sharing music with kids #and maybe we'll see them go to the concert before this thing is over???#who knows #please lmk if you'd like to see that!

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epicstuckyficrecs · 4 years

Text

2020 Half-year fic rec for Steve Rogers’ birthday!

I made a poll on Twitter to know if people would be interested in me doing a half-year “best of” fic rec like I did last year , and the response was overwhelmingly positive, so here it is! 😊 These are my favorite fics of the year so far! (in no particular order)

Complete

Two Colors, White and Gold by Carelica (Canon-Divergent | 36K | Explicit): He’s here, he’s alive. His hand is on a tree.

Deep Sea Diving by AidaRonan/ @bisexualstarbucky (Shrunkyclunks | 5,4K | Explicit): Steve’s wallowing in heat-related misery under a shade tree in Central Park when a man walks by in bright red booty shorts and a crop top. RIP Steve Rogers. It was nice knowing you.

Some things you do for money by pushdragon (BDSM AU | 72K | Explicit): Steve’s wholesome take on domination has suddenly become the hottest thing in the business. He should be cashing in on his newfound celebrity, but instead he’s distracted by the guy who works odd shifts in the club’s bar, fresh out of prison and damaged in ways that don’t show.

the hand you want to hold is a weapon (and you’re nothing but skin) by voxofthevoid/ @voxofthevoid (Post-WS, Sex Pollen | 13K | Explicit): Steve gets sex-pollened. He handles it just fine, and then Bucky shows up.

Dear Mr. Postman by odetteandodile (Modern AU | 52K | Teen): “I’m um—your mailman,” Bucky says, lamely. Or—Steve and Bucky revive an old friendship, get married (but totally just as friends, for reasons), and navigate a few of the many trials of the heart that come with falling in love with your best friend.

good on my own (needed me) by mcwho (Modern AU | 12K | Explicit): There are some mistakes that could be made by anybody. Anybody. Bucky taught high school pretty much his whole life, and that was fine, those were kids, and he knew all of them anyway, which meant there was very little chance of him accidentally fucking any of his students during an impulsive post-marital-breakdown Grindr hook-up. Which is exactly what he had done with Steve.or: bucky has not let steve rogers fuck him since his sophomore year (Part 1 of himbo-verse)

Latte Art and Slow Dancing in the Dark by deadonarrival (Modern AU with powers, Daddy kink | 89K | Explicit): Bucky is a somewhat well-adjusted former army sniper that got his shoulder blown out. He took his discharge and went home to finish school. His best friends and roommates (Nat & Clint) are CIA agents and tip him off that their local Sbux is hiring. He gets a job there and meets none other than the hottest guy on earth. So how does one get a date in the most top secret government location in the US? What happens when that guy is more than just a hot dorito and wants to give Bucky everything he wants?

That Boy Is a Problem by 2bestfriends (Modern AU | 10K | Explicit): In which a twinky little goth punk named Bucky puts a leash around Steve’s dick and he’s really into it. (The leash is a metaphor. For now.)

bullet in a gun (but in the end, my time will come) by voxofthevoid/ @voxofthevoid (Post-Endgame, Canon-divergent | 25K | Explicit): Post-Thanos, Bucky Barnes has happily settled into a life of peace and pining. That’s when alternate versions of the best friend he’s secretly in love with start showing up.

Like it’s the Only Thing I’ll Ever Do by howdoyousleep/ @howdoyousleep3 (ABO AU | 39K | Explicit): When Steve opens the door, Bucky feels like he’s been living in clouds for the past few days, maybe even his entire life. Steve is life, Steve is happiness, Steve is the sun. He has such a visceral reaction to seeing the Alpha that he feels his knees go weak, feels his body draw tight towards the other man, pulled in. Or big Alpha Steve moves into sweet little Omega Bucky’s apartment building and a roller-coaster build of a romance ensues.

A Company Man by mambo/ @whtaft (Modern AU | 75K | Explicit): No matter what it is, the truth is the same: Steve Rogers is in love with Bucky Barnes, a married man.

How to Fuck With (and Feed) Your Soulmate by BlueSimplicity/ @bluesimplicity73 (Soulmate AU, Shrunkyclunks | 114K | Explicit): It’s called the Grey Space; a patch of skin marking you as blessed and the first sign you have a soulmate. Steve Rogers didn’t have one when he crashed into the ice. But he did when he woke up in the future. The second sign is the Sense, a sharing of one the senses to help soulmates find each other. Steve’s Sense, taste, is rare, but he loves a challenge and a soulmate is a gift from the Fates. Except instead of a blessing, it’s a curse, since his soulmate is a dick. Bucky Barnes loves food and a homecooked meal is something he cherishes. When his Grey Space starts to itch, Bucky can’t help his excitement, since the Sense he and his soulmate share is taste. But not for long. Whoever he’s bound to has the blandest diet in the world, ignoring all Bucky’s messages. After weeks of putting up with tasteless food, Bucky decides to strike back.

Strangers in the Street by crinklefries/ @spacerenegades (Canon divergent | 15K | Teen): Every five years, Bucky meets the same tall, blond stranger.

Departure by Nejinee/ @nejineeee (Arrival AU | 80K | Mature): Captain America is recruited by the U.S. government to assist a linguist and her team of scientists in communicating with aliens after twelve mysterious space ships appear across the globe overnight.

Compatible - A Romantic Science Fiction Thriller in Four Parts by the1918/ @the1918 (Shrunkyclunks, ABO AU | 33K | Explicit): When young nanotech engineer Bucky Barnes finds himself falling head first in love with none other than Steve Rogers, he ends up getting a lot more of the Alpha than he– or science– could ever have imagined possible.

WIP

four dreams in a row where you were burned by voxofthevoid/ @voxofthevoid (canon divergent, post-Endgame, 1945 alternate timeline | 10/? | 58K | Mature): When Steve uses the last of his Pym Particles to travel to 1944 and save his best friend, he doesn’t have a plan beyond leaving behind the battlefield and living his life alongside the people he loves. But the life that finds him is not the one he expects.

A Matter of Trust by chicklette/ @chicklette (Singer Bucky, Fake relationship | 7/13 | 26K | Explicit): At 43, James Barnes is a washed up old man. He’s got a dozen Grammys in the hall closet, an agent that can’t get him a deal, a decade-old case of writer’s block, a moody teen-aged daughter, and the gorgeous actress Natasha Romanova for an ex-wife. Enter Steven Grant Rogers, struggling twenty-something, orphan, and someone who has no idea who Barnes is. The two men meet by accident, doing nothing more than passing the time in a quiet bar. But when a pap gets a shot of the two men embracing, Bucky takes it as a chance to finally come out as bisexual, and his agent makes him a proposition: Ten new songs and one very sweet boyfriend will get him a new record deal that will maybe, just maybe put him back on top. Now all he has to do is write the songs, convince the kid, and not fall in love. Should be easy, right?

Bespoke by the1918/ @the1918 (Shrunkyclunks, ABO AU | 6/10 | 61K | Explicit): “I love you, too. So fucking much,” Steve answered. His voice sounded cracked and exhausted, an exposed nerve ending in the shape of a man. “Some days I still don’t believe you’re real. Feels— feels like somehow, I’ve always loved you. Even when I didn’t know you.” Bucky smiled softly at that and felt his heart threaten to explode. Still straddling his lap, he reached a hand up to cup Steve’s cheek. “You’ve always known me,” he stated, simply. “I was made for you, remember?” (Part 2 of Compatible)

Series

couldn't get the boy to kill me by voxofthevoid/ @voxofthevoid (Shrunkyclunks, SHIELD Agent Bucky | 12 works, complete | 74K | Explicit): Captain America and the Winter Soldier are a terrifying duo on the field, working together with a well-oiled precision that tears through their enemies. Captain Rogers and Agent Barnes are distant coworkers, all polite nods and mission briefings. Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes are fire and gasoline; it never ends well.

the hero's shoulders by voxofthevoid/ @voxofthevoid (Shrunkyclunks, Post-CW, canon divergent | 3 works, not complete | 32K | Explicit): Sequel series to couldn't get the boy to kill me

Honorable mention for Where The Interstate Ends by paperstorm/ @paper-storm because it was posted last year but I only read it recently!

#stucky #stucky fanfic #stucky fanfiction #stucky fic #stucky fic rec #half year fic rec

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plumoh · 3 years

Text

[SK8] down the waves of august

Word count: 4035

Summary: Skating under the scorching sun, sitting on the porch and eating popsicles—this is summer, and Kojirou doesn't take his eyes off Kaoru.

Note: AO3 link. This is high school era, so there are strong vibes of one-sided Kojirou/Kaoru, and a lot of pining Kojirou. They're still having fun though!

It never starts with Kojirou dragging Kaoru to a new skateboarding spot or an ice cream shop, even though he recently got his license to legally drive a bike that will allow him to go anywhere he wants.

It always starts with Kaoru showing up at Kojirou’s house with a grander than life energy and never-ending excitement that transforms every one of his steps into a skip. He’s smiling and shining, like there’s nothing more valuable than taking the biggest breath of air and swallowing it whole to absorb the freedom summer is giving them.

“Let’s go,” Kaoru says, shoving his fist against Kojirou’s chest with a grin. “Take your board.”

It’s nine in the morning on a summer day of their last high school summer vacation, and Kojirou doesn’t even think about his homework or his cram school classes as he follows Kaoru’s extended hand, guiding him towards a world where nothing matters except the smell of fresh flowers and the sight of a back showing him the way.

***

They’re sweaty, exhausted and hungry but Kojirou finds himself grinning like a fool as he collapses on the stairs of his house porch, skateboard in hand. Kaoru follows suit, placing his hands on the cool stone of the stairs, and lets out a long sigh as he tips his head back, some of his hair falling out of the low bun as he does so. Kojirou glances at the curve of Kaoru’s exposed neck, then quickly averts his eyes.

“We should go back to that skatepark tomorrow,” Kojirou suggests, still high on adrenaline. “I’ve got classes until 3 pm, we’ll have enough time before my mom starts calling me to get home.”

Summer classes suck, and Kojirou would have gladly spent his days lazing around and eating junk food while watching shows on TV, or skateboarding until his legs couldn’t take it anymore, but university entrance exams aren’t going to be passed without extensive studying. Simply thinking about them is enough for Kojirou’s good mood to drop.

“We should,” Kaoru answers slowly.

Kaoru’s face is turned towards the reddening sky. Even though the sun is setting, drowning the white facade of the houses into warmer shades, it’s still hot and way too humid for Kojirou’s taste. All summer is going to be like this—uncomfortable, sticky and heavy, but nothing he isn’t used to. He’ll complain about the weather until Kaoru gets annoyed and complains about him, then they’ll buy a week’s worth of popsicles to eat in one afternoon as they do their homework and they’ll go skating at night, once they’re free from obligations and the crushing heat.

This is what summer is supposed to be like. The view from his porch, from his family’s army of bicycles near the gate to the neighbor’s wind chime hanging on the first floor’s window and to the cat wandering on the roofs, is familiar and reassuring in its immutability. Kojirou has spent countless hours sitting here with Kaoru until dinner time, until one of them starts fidgeting because the stairs are stiff and uncomfortable and really not the place to sit on for a prolonged period of time. Kaoru’s traditional house would be a much more logical choice to hang out at; but both of them know it wouldn’t be the same.

When Kojirou stares at Kaoru’s figure, still looking at the infinite stretch of sky and gaze seemingly lost somewhere that Kojirou is not allowed to enter, he realizes that this summer will be different.

“You’re staying for dinner?” Kojirou asks, scraping his shoe against a hole in their paved pathway leading to the stairs they’ve never bothered fixing. “For some reason as we grow older, my family gets more excited when you stay for dinner. Eisuke is even asking for you.”

Kaoru shifts and turns fully towards Kojirou, his face the slightest bit surprised before his lips are curled into a smirk. The light of the sunset makes the color of his hair and of his eyes even more vibrant, like he was meant to be seen at this time of the day, when the sun recedes and the stars arise, and Kojirou almost misses what Kaoru says.

“That’s because I’m way cooler than you,” Kaoru snickers. “I’m a better role model for Eisuke than you are, you’re a lame big brother.”

Kaoru’s laugh comes from within, resonating deep in the front yard, filling it with the image of a breeze strong enough to make people sway and stagger, knocked off their feet by how genuine it is. The weight pulling at the strings in Kojirou’s heart grows bigger and heavier with each passing day, but no more painful.

Kojirou shakes his head. “Excuse you, he doesn’t need to be taught how to be a delinquent at twelve years old. You’re not even half the delinquent you pretend to be!”

“Still cooler than you are, stupid!” Kaoru retorts, and jumps to his feet. “I’m gonna eat everything in your fridge. Do you still have ice pops?”

Kaoru doesn’t even wait for his answer as he darts towards the door, easily sidestepping Kojirou and jumping over the last steps of the stairs in springy leaps. Kojirou, momentarily dazed, scrambles to get up but he’s not fast enough to stop Kaoru from turning the doorknob and dashing into the house like he owns the place. Shoes are carelessly thrown aside in the genkan while loud footsteps on the perfectly polished floor resound like an entire class of toddlers are raiding Kojirou’s home, which is not too far removed from the truth. Kaoru is laughing like a maniac.

“Don’t act like this is your house, you punk!” Kojirou shouts, making just as much noise as Kaoru in his chase, down to the kitchen. “Who said you could take the ice pops in the first place!”

“Your stuff is also my stuff!” Kaoru replies, almost hitting his face against the fridge when his steps screech to a halt in front of it.

“Stop stealing my food!”

“Hey, you have Papico ice cream too, nice!”

“I thought you didn’t like Papico—”

“Boys, play nice.”

Both of them jerk away from the fridge and swivel their heads to Kojirou’s mother, who is watching them with the kind of fond exasperation and amusement she adorns only when she thinks they won’t remember any of her words as soon as she leaves them be. Kojirou clears his throat and grabs Kaoru’s arm, pulling him along and shoving him to the front like a shield, ignoring Kaoru’s grunts.

“Kaoru was stealing our ice cream,” Kojirou says flatly.

“You’d let me starve?” Kaoru gasps.

“We’re going to eat dinner soon enough, you glutton!”

“You eat way more than I do! And after skating all afternoon we need snacks to help us cool down!”

Kojirou’s mother sighs, mutely shaking her head. She lifts her hand and points at the bathroom at the end of the corridor, tutting.

“No ice cream before dinner, go wash your hands, and help me set up the table. Kaoru-kun, don’t leave your bag in the front yard and bring it inside.”

“Yes,” Kojirou and Kaoru chorus.

Once they brush past Kojirou’s mother, they start kicking and pushing at each other to get first in the bathroom, then they flick water at the other’s eyes like it’s some sort of childish competition before they remember that Kojirou’s mother is waiting for them and probably expecting them to be on their best behavior (as behaved as they can be).

Kaoru goes to retrieve his bag and opts to drop it in the genkan beside his still carelessly thrown aside shoes. Were it someone else’s house, he most likely would have neatly put them away—but this is Kojirou’s house, always loud and welcoming and warm. Kaoru then bounds towards the kitchen to give a hand to Kojirou’s mother, moving with the confidence of someone knowing where the cracks on the pavement are and choosing to dance around them. He’s allowing himself to be extravagant in the company of people who are, at this point in his life, basically his relatives.

Kojirou watches the ease with which Kaoru reaches into cupboards and rummages through drawers under his mother’s orders, and he thinks it strange how natural Kaoru’s presence is in his house. Strange, but not unpleasant; Kaoru brings a warm gust of wind and slips into every rift left open for him to poke his head into. Kojirou sees the way his mother smiles and guides Kaoru like he has lived here all his life, waving a wooden spatula around and telling him to go fetch this and that, and Kaoru complies without a single complaint. It does something funny to Kojirou’s stomach, which he squashes down by breathing in deeply and rubbing his temples.

It’s fine. Kojirou is eighteen years old, and this is the last summer he can spend with Kaoru before responsibilities catch up to them. It won’t change anything.

***

Kojirou doesn’t ask why Kaoru wants to skate every day, despite their obvious amount of workload that barely diminishes as the long days of summer stretch into the end of August. It’s simply easier to pretend that everything pushing them around like they’re trapped in a train full of people, from the urgency to get grades above 80 points to the quiet expectation of finding a more socially acceptable hobby, doesn’t exist. For a few hours in the hot night of the city, Kojirou lets himself believe that this freedom of choosing will last for a while longer.

Kaoru starts to skate differently; he brings a notebook with him and scrawls remarks and numbers of his performance, comparing the different results of complicated tricks, and asks Kojirou to evaluate how accurate his predictions are. He looks so focused and sure of himself, unravelling this perfectionist side he’s kept under layers of piercings and aggressive language. Kojirou has never understood why Kaoru was so adamant on accomplishing things that contradict other, more established achievements of himself—like that time he said he wasn’t aiming at a better computer science university outside of Okinawa, despite his excellent grades and hunger for learning all he can; or the obvious question of why he keeps doing calligraphy with such dedication when the love he has for this art is nowhere near the amount of love he’s pouring into artificial intelligence.

“You know, I’m not a computer,” Kojirou sighs, trying to make sense of Kaoru’s instructions. “I can’t calculate all these things as fast, and I don’t even understand what you’re trying to do.”

“That’s because you skate without finesse,” Kaoru answers, an argument he’s repeated multiple times these past weeks. “You can turn anything into art, or something graceful and technical if you put effort into it.”

“Huh. Sounds like a lot of unnecessary trouble.”

Kaoru glares at him but keeps skating, going up and down the spine, jumping at the last second to flip his board and landing smoothly without making his wheels cry in agony. Kojirou doesn’t think it’s as satisfying as hearing the screech of the wheels against the asphalt—hearing how close the board is to the ground makes his performance even more spectacular and boisterous, like fireworks bursting into colors.

It’s past dinner time. They both warned their families they wouldn’t make it home on time—Kojirou received a message from his mother telling him to be careful, and Kaoru was asked to get back not too late. The skatepark is empty save for the both of them and two kids accompanied by their father at the funbox, all of them foolish enough to continue sweating after hours spent under the scorching sun. Kojirou is sitting at the top of the half-pipe, elbow propped up on his knee and chin resting in his hand, observing Kaoru. There is tension in Kaoru’s shoulders that wasn’t there before, slowing him down and making his skating stiffer, stilted, like some sort of insurmountable obstacle stopping his progress.

“Hey,” Kojirou calls, tone softer than usual. “Still no signs of Adam?”

Kaoru comes back at his side, gives him a single glance, and shrugs.

“Probably stuck at home or something. We can go a few days without him.”

And he goes down again, this time even faster and correcting his trajectory. Kojirou rolls his eyes and resists the urge to call on Kaoru’s bullshit, because it’s so infuriatingly obvious how upset he is at not being able to skate with Adam. Kojirou doubts it’s the sole reason for Kaoru’s bad mood, but it is definitely a factor and he doesn’t wish to ponder on it longer than necessary, lest he starts having ugly, intrusive thoughts.

“Hurry up, I’m hungry!” Kojirou says. “We’re getting ramen and you’re paying!”

“Why am I the one paying—”

Kojirou doesn’t ask why Kaoru is skating like his life depends on it, why it looks like this is the last time he will touch a skateboard. He waits, like he always has, until Kaoru is ready to tell him what’s been bothering him.

***

Cicadas are screaming and making a nuisance of themselves, even if the patch of grass and trees is two blocks over Kojirou’s house. He listens to them as he eats the popsicle he’s legitimately won by beating Kaoru at janken, idly thinking that maybe it’s counterproductive to sit on the porch when they have an electric fan in the living room to fight against the heat. Kaoru, leaning all his body weight against Kojirou because he likes being insufferable, is cradling his can of cola in one hand and playing some game on his smartphone in the other, looking deep in thoughts. Kojirou specifically does not think about their proximity and the warm point of contact between them.

“You’re heavy,” Kojirou mumbles.

“That will help you build muscle,” Kaoru says flatly, not budging at all.

It’s too hot to continue arguing, especially since Kojirou’s brain feels fried and unavailable for the next twenty-four hours. This is probably one of the hottest summers they’ve had, blinded by rays of sunlight and reduced to mush by the heavy air, dragging their feet from one point to another and doing at most three tasks a day, including attending classes and doing homework. Which doesn’t leave enough brain space for mundane activities like deep thinking.

And yet Kaoru still has that troubled look on his face that Kojirou wants to douse with cold water. Long strands of pink hair are falling over Kojirou’s shoulder—he can smell the stupid floral scent of his shampoo that drives him insane, the one they’ve chosen after spending thirty minutes comparing a dozen different brands at the store. He lifts a hand with the intention of touching them before remembering himself, and withdrawing just as quickly. How simple a gesture it is, and how easy a shift it would bring in their relationship.

“Say, Kaoru.”

“Hm?”

“We’re not going to drift apart once we graduate, right?”

Neither of them is going to leave Okinawa, for the time being. Their universities, if they get into the one they want, will be in opposite parts of the island. They can text and call each other, and they will most likely come visit their parents during breaks—it’s not like they are leaving for another country.

It dawns on Kojirou, then, that he and Kaoru have never spent a prolonged period of time apart since they met in middle school. The thought gnaws at him and wraps a tight hand around his chest; he chances a look at Kaoru, and finds golden eyes staring at him with incredulity and faint amusement in equal measures.

“I think it would take something bigger for us to stop talking,” Kaoru says. “Your flip phone looks ugly but at least it’s working.”

“Not everyone can get a smartphone of the latest technology,” Kojirou grumbles, though his entire posture relaxes. “I’ll detail in my emails the ingredients of my delicious meals while you’re eating instant ramen or sandwiches bought at the convenient store. I’ll even send you pics!”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, maybe your meals will look pretty but they won’t be tasty.”

“I’ve never heard you complain about my food before.”

“There’s a first to everything, you naive idiot.”

Kaoru presses himself closer to Kojirou and almost manages to tip him over the porch, but Kojirou simply laughs and grips Kaoru’s shoulder to steady the both of them. Perhaps this is why they choose the porch and not the crowded space of Kojirou’s living room; a moment shared between the two of them, listening to the cacophony of nature and suffering the heat solely for the opportunity to exist together.

Kaoru doesn’t say anything else, returning his attention to his game and Kojirou thinks that maybe, as long as he lets himself believe it, this is the peace they will always carry within themselves.

***

Their bikes were left abandoned on the sideroad, out of the way for people to circulate freely but still parked in a haphazard manner that would have made their parents yell. It’s not Kojirou’s biggest concern though, and this is hardly the most unforgivable inconvenience they’ve perpetrated.

The sun is hanging low in the sky, kissing the edge of the sea and covering the entire beach in warm tones. The elevated highway running across the water sounds just as noisy as usual, bringing some sort of twisted rhythm to their footsteps on the soft sand. It’s quiet; not many people are agglutinated on the shore, and even less are taking a walk alongside the waves.

Kojirou’s bare feet are crunching the sand and the pebbles in slow and measured steps, following Kaoru’s trail in front of him. They left their shoes somewhere near their bikes, throwing aside what was in the end a dead weight they would have had to carry. They don’t come to the beach nearly enough—it’s a place where nothing seems to matter, all worries drowned by the steady sound of the waves and by the tickling breeze caressing their hair. Kojirou walks and lets his mind rest.

Kaoru is walking backwards, tracing a path he’s the only one visualizing one step at a time, carefully and gently. He doesn’t exude his usual fiery energy that burns everything around him; he’s calm, but not in a worrying way. Kojirou’s eyes never stray away from Kaoru’s figure.

“You’re going to trip,” Kojirou says.

“There is less risk of tripping in walking backwards than in skating,” Kaoru replies with a snort. “And even if I do, the sand’s not going to hurt me.”

“I would catch you anyway.”

Kaoru looks up from his feet. For one short, miraculous second, Kojirou thinks that there is hope in Kaoru’s eyes, but it vanishes in a blink and he’s left with a crooked grin.

“Maybe, if you’re fast enough,” Kaoru teases.

Kojirou’s shoulders lift in an overt, deliberate shrug. “I’m as fast as Adam.”

It’s half-petty, half-true, but Kaoru doesn’t pick up on the obvious disdain in Kojirou’s words and chooses to burst out laughing. His voice carries high and far, as clear and limpid as water, and his face breaks into an expression of pure joy that lights up his eyes. Kojirou stares, mesmerized and feeling stupid for still being caught off guard by all the alluring facets Kaoru is willing to leave open to be scrutinized.

“You’re trying to show off?” Kaoru asks, mirth in his eyes.

“I don’t want to hear it from mister I’ll-steal-your-thunder-anytime,” Kojirou snorts. “I’m not showing off if it’s true.”

“Then prove it.”

Kojirou raises an eyebrow, momentarily confused. Kaoru is still grinning as he splays his arms wide, something wild glinting in his golden irises. It’s only when Kaoru starts tipping backwards that Kojirou understands what kind of crazy shit he’s come up with and he leaps into action, his left foot kicking the sand and his right arm shooting forward. One or ten curses fly out of his mouth as he forcefully grabs Kaoru’s arm in one hand and grips his shoulder in the other, then yanks him towards himself.

For a few seconds, this moment floats in the air and remains suspended. Kojirou’s feet are half-buried in the sand in his rush to catch Kaoru, covered in an odd veil of warmth that somehow feels comforting, making him take root in this spot. He’s completely drunk on the sight of Kaoru, face too close and illuminated by the faint light of the setting sun, hair out of his eyes and piercings gleaming, his lips curled into a satisfied and lazy smirk. The sound of the waves is but a distant noise to Kojirou over the hammering of his heartbeat and the ringing in his ears. And for a few seconds, he wants nothing more than to lean down and kiss Kaoru.

The spell shatters and breaks when Kaoru lifts his hand and flicks Kojirou’s forehead, tearing a long groan out of him.

“That hurts, you know!” Kojirou grumbles.

“That’s only a tickle, you big baby,” Kaoru says, rolling his eyes. “Well, I guess you prove you’re not completely useless.”

Kaoru wrenches his arm back and straightens up, making a show of dusting off his shirt and smoothing the wrinkles. Kojirou silently lets his arms fall at his sides, fingers still burning from the contact.

The wind is picking up. Kaoru turns his face towards the sky, and this—Kaoru’s profile, shining bright against the orange hue of the beach and the sky, devoid of worry and looking serene, is what matters the most to Kojirou.

“Summer’s ending,” Kaoru sighs, closing his eyes. “We still have a few months left together. And then it’s another kind of life entirely.”

“We’ve already established we’re not going to stop being friends,” Kojirou points out as he extracts his feet from the sand, tracing formless shapes in it instead. “Or are you already forgetting things from like, two days ago?”

“I was just making sure you remembered it, bastard.” Kaoru pauses; the sudden silence finally leaves space for the muffled noises of the water running on the sand. When he speaks again, his voice comes from the deepest well of his resolve. “You’ll become a cook and I’ll become the next renown calligrapher of Sakurayashiki studio. That’s how we’ve decided to grow up.”

Long days of unconcealed frustration, helpless screams about not being able to pursue a more profitable career and disappointment at his own inability to fully let go of something that has been transplanted in him since birth, leading to defeat simmered in rage—these memories come back in Kojirou’s mind unbidden and leave a bitter taste in his mouth. The puzzle pieces of Kaoru’s mood scattered across all summer move into place. But Kaoru is smiling and determined not to show weakness, even if the lines of his eyes are still angry, and who is Kojirou to not fall a little bit more in love with this flawed yet beautiful person that is Sakurayashiki Kaoru?

“We’ll grow up and become boring adults, but we’ll still be the same people,” Kojirou says with a smile of his own.

Kaoru slowly opens his eyes and looks over. Kojirou lifts his closed fist, expectant, and Kaoru obligingly bumps it with his own. A silly, mechanical gesture that accompanied them for years, like a sign of their bond that does nothing but strengthen and bloom with each passing day.

They are both sporting a grin as if they’ve just completed the best races of their lives. For once, Kojirou lets himself wholly acknowledge the pleasant fire that travels from his stomach to his chest, spreading a tingling sensation all over his body that makes him feel like he’s skateboarding at the highest speed with the certainty of victory under his wheels. He could get addicted to this quiet storm with the scent of spring brewing in his heart.

“Boring adults with boring friends,” Kaoru adds.

“That’s only natural,” Kojirou laughs.

The sun is dipping farther into the sea now—the colors are changing, gradually engulfing the beach in colder shades, but no less stunning.

Summer is ending, and new resolutions are starting.

#matcha blossom #joecherry #matchablossom #kaoru sakurayashiki #kojiro nanjo #sk8 #sk8 the infinity #i love the summer vibes and okinawa is excellent for them #kaoru and kojirou are dumb teenagers learning that they have to grow up...

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romantichopelessly · 4 years

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Not a Cinderella Story

This is my contribution to @dukexietyweek 2020! The prompt was Fairytales and I followed it... very loosely. This is also a bullet fic because I scrapped my plot no less than three times over the course of writing this.

Pairing: Romantic Dukexiety, Implied/Background Mociet

Words: 2072

Warnings: jealousy, misunderstandings, toxic behavior

Synopsis: When Remus, Roman and Virgil were young, they were inseparable. They always played pretend--castles and princesses and dragons. But everyone has to grow up. Things change.

----

Remus Sanders and his twin brother Roman have always been close. “Attached at the hip” some would say. Specifically, their mother, neighbors, and preschool teachers.

They always do the same things. They like the same juice. The same snacks. They play with the same toys, and they always laugh at the same things.

Their bond is unbreakable. They are the perfect duo. They never need anyone else.

Until they meet Virgil Storm.

They meet him early in their second grade year. Virgil is… a weird kid. He wears a purple jacket with cat ears on the hood in the middle of August. He doesn’t try to talk to anyone at lunchtime. He wears different colored socks and carries a lunchbox with cartoon spiders on it that says “Happy Halloween” even when it isn’t October.

He’s odd.

Remus loves him. And because Remus loves him, so does Roman.

The three of them make quick friends, underneath the tree on the playground, sitting in the grass and sharing easy smiles, as children do.

Roman suggests that they play a game that he and Remus invented all on their own--Knights and Dragons.

Virgil is quick to agree, because young children don’t have anything to worry about beyond silly games with their peers.

Remus believes that Knights and Dragons is a much more fun experience with three people. Sometimes Virgil is a knight, with Roman, and they both chase Remus around the school yard, giggling and waving sticks like they’re swords. And other times, Virgil is a dragon with Remus, and the two of them roar and yell and flap their arms like wings.

Virgil makes Remus laugh in ways that he thought only his brother could. Virgil laughs with him, not at him.

Of course, all good things come to an end, and soon, for the imaginative boy that was Roman Sanders, Knights and Dragons is not enough.

Knights and Dragons are boring in the eyes of a third grader.

Roman suggests one day that they add a princess to their game of Knights and Dragons.

Remus (rightfully) thinks that this is a very stupid idea. Princesses are for Disney movies and fairytales. Remus Sanders most definitely does not live in a fairytale.

But Roman loves fairytales. And Roman loves Disney. And, unfortunately, so does Virgil.

So they add a princess to their game. Oftentimes, this princess is played by Virgil, but sometimes Roman steps into the role. Remus is just glad that he gets to stay a big scary dragon.

That is… Until just a princess being kidnapped by a dragon and saved by a courageous knight is not enough for young Roman Sanders.

No, Roman wants more. Roman wants to emulate his favorite movies and his new favorite theme of said movies--

Romance.

So Knights and Dragons and Princesses turns into… Playing Cinderella.

There definitely wasn’t a dragon in Cinderella.

Remus is quickly shoved into the roles of the ugly stepsisters and stepmother. Don’t get it wrong! He loves playing the villain. He loves laughing maniacally and calling his brother funny names and getting away with it without punishment, because it was just pretend.

He doesn’t so much like sitting in the grass of his own backyard, watching while Roman and Virgil twirl around, holding hands and “dancing” to imaginary music while they “fall in love.”

It’s boring.

He’s almost glad when Roman’s phase of playing pretend Disney princesses ends.

Except that he can’t be. Because it ends with the three of them turning twelve and entering the dreaded halls of middle school. It ends with Roman joining the school theater club and making a whole bunch of new friends.

It ends with Virgil and Remus suddenly being left to walk home from school alone one day.

Despite his brother’s popularity, both Remus and Virgil are… outcasts of a sort. And since they just downgraded from a trio to a duo, their friendship is a bit more… strained. They still have the closeness of five years of best friendship, but there’s something… missing.

Cue Janus Duncan.

Janus is also an outcast. Janus is like a fairy godmother who comes in to save the poor outcasts at the last second, turning bleak days into wishes come true (if eating school lunch under the bleachers and snorting with laughter as they mix all the slushie options at 7-11 into one cup can be considered wishes come true), and wearing a super cool leather jacket that was two sizes too big, but definitely influenced Remus’s punk phase.

Because, oh yeah. They definitely both start their punk phases after meeting Janus Duncan.

Honestly meeting Janus really is a wish come true for Remus. A miracle among the comedy of errors that was his teenage years.

Because after about a year of Virgil, Janus and Remus being the perfect trio 2.0, Remus starts to… notice some things.

One thing is the way that his heart seems to inflate like a little balloon in Remus’s chest when Virgil smiles at him. The way that his guts squirm when Virgil laughs at one of his jokes, true and bright. The way that Remus catches himself staring at Virgil’s crooked smile, or his chipped nail polish as his fingers twirl around in his hoodie strings.

The second thing has… a lot of the same signs honestly.

Because Remus starts to notice how Virgil always watches Roman when he’s over at Remus’s house. The way that Virgil always smiles and waves at Remus’s twin brother when they pass one another in the hallway at school, his pale cheeks flushing a soft pink.

It makes a terrible, sickly green emotion curl in Remus’s stomach.

Jealousy.

So when Virgil tentatively brings up trying out for the school play, and asks Remus if Roman would mind running some lines with him, Remus does something he isn’t proud of.

He snaps. He tells Virgil that he shouldn’t try. That he won’t even make it. That he isn’t popular kid material. That Roman isn’t his friend anymore, god, Virgil, can’t you take a hint?

He watches it happen like he isn’t the one controlling his own body. He sees the shock take over Virgil’s features. The years of easy trust crumble before his very eyes as Virgil reels back in horror. He can taste the jealousy on his tongue.

As Virgil leaves, Remus knows that he is the villain of this story.

He can see it as plainly as if he had shattered Virgil’s dreams right in front of him, like so much of a shattered glass shoe on the palace steps.

That night, Janus comes over and lets Remus have it.

For about five minutes, before Remus breaks down and tells the truth to his now one and only best friend and lecturing quickly turns to comforting.

By the time that they start high school, the original trio has withered down to just Remus. The other two thirds are nearly distant memories. One a locked door down the hall, and the other three lockers down, speaking to new friends.

Anyone would choose the prince over the ugly stepsister. He couldn’t blame them.

The spring of their sophomore year, the school announces that they will be putting on a production of none other than Cinderella.

Roman auditions, of course. He gets the role of the Prince.

Virgil doesn’t audition, but he offers himself up for the role of stage manager.

Virgil and Roman’s friends Patton and Logan audition. They get the roles of mice, but they don’t seem at all upset by that fact.

Janus auditions. He gets the role of the fairy godmother.

Janus asks Remus to audition.

Remus refuses. He doesn’t want to play a campy version of the ugly stepsisters in front of the entire school. He may not care about this hell hole, but he isn’t going to make his remaining two years any worse than they have to be.

Janus drags Remus to rehearsals anyway. Kicking and screaming.

By some miraculous happenstance, Remus suddenly becomes the set designer for the show.

He may be imagining things, but he is pretty sure that that has something to do with what Janus, Roman and the director were whisper-arguing about in the first week of rehearsals.

Remus is grateful for it. Not that he plans on saying so. He still can’t bring himself to apologize to Virgil, but watching him from afar still brings those butterflies to Remus’s stomach.

One night, after rehearsal, Remus is putting the finishing touches on the carriage prop, which has quickly gone from inconsequential to him to his very own magnum opus. He’s just testing out its mobility when he hears soft laughter.

Naturally, he follows the sounds.

Stage left, hidden in the wings, Remus sees his brother, in full costume, standing across from Virgil, who is chuckling and gently smoothing his hands across the front of Roman’s costume.

Remus sees green. His old friend Jealousy curls around him like the dragon that he used to love to play.

He barely restrains himself from breaking the very set that he worked so hard on.

Funnily enough, that is progress.

The night before the play opens, there is a house party. Remus isn’t quite sure who is hosting, but the cast and company are the only people invited.

Remus doesn’t want to go.

Janus makes Remus go.

Begrudgingly, Remus has a good time. He has a good time drinking soda and watching the other stage hands tell stories about past productions. He has a good time laughing at Janus as he unsuccessfully tries to flirt with the boy in the bright blue sweater who plays a mouse.

He is still having a good time when the girl who plays Cinderella herself caps a plastic bottle and places it on the ground, calling for everyone to gather around for a game of spin the bottle.

Remus finds himself sitting between Janus and his giggly mouse boy, and some other techie who wears sunglasses indoors.

There are a few fun rounds. Roman has to kiss the girl playing the stepmother. One of the mice has to kiss Cinderella. It’s all in good fun.

That is, until Remus isn’t really paying attention and the mouth of the bottle is suddenly facing him. He blinks.

From across the circle, the studious looking mouse speaks up. “Janus clearly touched the bo-” The hand of one of the set designers covers the mouse’s mouth.

Remus blinks again. “So who’s the lucky bastard I’m making out with?”

All eyes turn to Virgil, who looks like a startled mouse himself.

Shit.

Virgil is up before anyone can say anything, backing away from the circle and spinning on his heel before making a beeline for the kitchen. Remus follows, standing up before his mind even catches up with his body. He sees Roman making to stand up too, but he holds out a hand.

Even after years of not being close, Roman can tell what he means without a word.

Remus follows Virgil into the kitchen and finds him leaning against the counter.

“Didn’t want to kiss the ugly stepsister that badly, huh?”

“What?”

“You… You know, Emo, like that stupid game Roman always made us play when we were ankle biters.”

“Wh- First of all, you and Roman are identical twins. You look exactly the same. That was just a game.”

Remus shrugs, as if he hasn’t carried that game and all it implied with him for the entirety of his teenage years.

“And… No. It wasn’t- I just didn’t want to kiss you in front of everyone.”

Remus pretends like that doesn’t make his heart shatter into a hundred tiny pieces.

Virgil seems to see it anyway. “I mean that I don’t want to… have my first kiss in front of all of them. It’s nothing against you, they just- they just all know about my crush.”

Virgil says it like it’s something stupid. Like being in love is something shameful. Like liking Roman Sanders isn’t something that literally everyone in that room except for Remus has in common.

“Your crush on my brother?”

Virgil looks at him like he’s the biggest idiot on the face of the earth.

He probably is.

Because he doesn’t see it coming for a second when Virgil steps closer, cups Remus’s cheek in his hand like he is made of something precious and priceless, and closes the gap to kiss him.

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hime-memes · 3 years

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( Requested ) This long list of starters comes from the youtube content creator: Nisipisa ! In particular, the video: ‘ Let’s Go Window Shopping 6: Crimes Against Pants with Shein ‘

Trigger Warnings: Sexual Innuendo, Alcohol & Drug Mentions and Swearing.

As always: feel free to change anything within these starters that you see fit to make it work for your muse & the receiver’s muse !

( Some sentences have been modified for length, understanding, or to give fuller context. )

“ First of all, these shorts ? I’m living for the whole outfit. I appreciate _____ finding a use for trashbags that’s not just holding trash. “

“ ... I don’t have enough brain bandwidth to actually hold enough information about it ... “

“ People deserve access to clothing in their size. 100 %. “

“ I’m already kinda impressed. “

“ This is a pretty dress & this is a pretty dress. That’s pretty ! That’s ... passable ? “

“ We had a lot of fun last time with t-shirts. “

“ Oh my god. Oh god ... Oh yes ! This is our first graphic tee of the day. “

“ It’s a crew neck in the ugliest shade of purple known to human or lobster eyes. “

“ Sorry: #Momlife. “

“ You can make sure your search engine optimization is as powerful as possible when you’re waiting in line to check out at Target™ for the fourth time this week. “

“ I didn’t mean to shame anybody that spends three days out of their week at Target™. “

“ If there wasn’t a panna cotta going on, that would be me. It’s my favorite place in the goddamn world ! “

“ It’s second only to shoe stores that sell a size twelve ! “

“ As we all know - I am not a mother and will likely biologically never be one, because God looked at me and said, ‘ If I give you a reproductive system, you’re going to be too powerful ‘ and so, he just nuked my uterus. “

“ I don’t find that this t - shirt celebrates motherhood in any meaningful way. “

“ I do think it celebrates having bad taste in a meaningful way. “

“ You know what ? For some people: That’s enough. “

“ ... We aren’t going to address why having a cutout tight might be useful ... “

“ And THIS is the sexiest shoe we could have put my girl in ?! “

“ You guys put her in this conservative nightmare heel ?! “

“ I like that ______ thinks you should wear all these graphic tees with light wash mom jeans and converse low tops. “

“ I think every website should encourage it’s patrons to dress like the main character of a Sarah Dessen novel from 2007. “

“ There’s some high schooler in a debate club that’s really into it. It’s kinda their whole personality, and they’re like: ‘ This is so ironically funny for me ‘. “

“ In the year of our Lord, 2008: I started high school and my absolute favorite shirt to wear was a shirt quite like this. “

“ It looked like I was wearing long sleeves under short sleeves when in reality, I was wearing a crime. “

“ Have you ever tried layering ? Like, actual layering ? It sucks ! “

“ You’re kidding ! A double whammy in the same row ? Oh my god ... “

“ ... We have also inexplicably made the model hit this pose. “

“ The person who needs these pants is someone who likes to go out and party - likes to go to the club - but, they are also the president of a fan club for Shar Pei dogs. “

“ You know what dogs I think are cute ? ( * Googles favorite dog * ) Just look at this guy ! “

“ Look at these pointy bastards ! “

“ This is like if you had a bat and you did a spell on it to make it a dog ! “

“ These ... Now THIS is a pair of pants ! “

“ Clinically depressed, stressed jeans. “

“ You take leopard print fabric and sew it into your distressed holes. “

“ You don’t have to frankenstein it into this type of fit ... this is kinda like how a hypebeast would dress if they were in elementary school. “

“ If you put a bow on this and a tutu: this is me and my girls rolling up to the Jojo Siwa concert. “

“ Am I saying I wouldn’t wear these shorts ? No, I’m not saying that at all - I would wear the fuck outta these shorts ! “

“ As we’ve established: my taste is awful. “

“ Do you think in 1503, when Lisa del Giocondo sat down to start being painted for this portrait - she thought in a couple hundred years some random fast fashion brand would take her likeness, photoshop a face mask on it ... and sell it on a graphic t - shirt ? “

“ The only responsibilities I had were watching Rugrats and learning object permanence. “

“ Stop living in the past. The future is fun because my videos are in it ! “

“ This little cherry top, I think I’d probably wear. I think it’s very sweet ! “

“ I’m so weak to anything with a grid print. “

“ I’m going to think about this shirt for the rest of my life ... “

“ What exactly does a lil’ house elf from Harry Potter™ have to do with this ? “

“ I do feel like this floral print will cause my brain to atrophy if I look at it too long. “

“ Rosé is not the only wine to rhyme with ‘ all day ‘. Rosé isn’t even good ! “

“ You know what ? I don’t work for _______, so it’s fine. It’s not my responsibility ! “

“ Hey guys, you having fun at mushroom college ? “

“ I saw two things: The crotch butterfly and the booty butterfly and now I’m thinking these are the only clothes anyone should ever wear. Ever. “

“ NOT THE ‘ SEX ’ EARRINGS !? YES ! “

“ This is brazenly and offensively targeting a very very very specific group of people that I went to my preppy college with and I don’t appreciate that. “

“ I’ve worn spaghetti sauce stained yoga pants to bed that are sexier than this ! “

“ I’d wear the fuck outta this. “

“ I don’t know what I can say ... the picture speaks for itself, this is awful ! “

“ I’ve been saying for the longest time there is absolutely no store online that I can find articles of clothing for my single, mid-western, art teacher from the 70s, halloween costume. Finally someone is filling that niche ! “

“ This is absolutely unprecedented, because _______ decided to take something that, not only didn’t exist, but that no one has ever asked for and make it a reality. “

“ They think to themselves: ‘ Man - I love leopard print and I love galaxy print: but, I wish there was some way I could experience them at the same time, in an orientation that looks like the very beginnings of a DMT trip, and I wish I could experience all that whilst exercising. “

“ This is so tacky that I wanna wear it. “

“ Lord - Jesus, life is so beautiful. and full ... and amazing ! “

“ Curse allttle and carra fu///ng ON. “

“ The Rocky Horror Picture Show did not die for our sins for you to make this, okay ____ ? “

“ I feel like the person that wears this is a representative from the International Coalition of Clowns that are also Sexy. “

“ I want the opposite of this: I want a pink pastel frilly one piece that just says across the front of it, in like Curlz MT font : ‘ Death ‘. “

“ Listen, I don’t know what font that is, but I would like President Joe Biden and Vice President Kamala Harris to outlaw it. I don’t think it does society any good. “

“ I heart freak city ? “

“ Uh yeah, I live on Drip Goth Punk street. “

“ Is that near Superfreak Sexy Gurl lane ? “

“ We have a big snake problem here in Boston and I’m glad _____ is finally recognizing this. “

“ Mama. “ * Cue insane cackling *

“ This shirt says ‘ heart stopper ’ ... that’s me when I’m a serial killer ! “

“ That’s so topical and current ! Thank you, _______. “

#rp meme #roleplay meme #sentence starters #sentence starter meme #youtube sentence starters

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