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jawritter · 4 years

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Broken Me...

Ch. 4

Summery: The Dallas Convention couldn't have come at a worse time for Jensen. His world fell apart earlier that morning, but was expected to just act like everything was normal. You and a friend were at the convention for her birthday. Life hasn't been that great for you either, but a forced meeting on stage changes two worlds. Will you be able to put this broken man back together again...

Series Warings: Cheating, shitty marriage, Danneel is a bitch, I unfortunately have to put that as a warning because some people tend to get turnt up about it if you don’t... Smut, Crying, Suiside Attempt, brief discription of suicide attempt and recovery, depression, hints of self loathing, language. I think that’s it... Suicide Trigger warnings will be placed over each chapter!

Chapter Warnings: Language, sad Jensen, touch starved, angst, fluff if you squint.. I think that’s it for this chapter...

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Word Count: 2265

A/N: BINGE READ TIME!! As always all mistakes are mine! Please do not copy my work! Feedback is gold!! Hope you all enjoy this one!!

Want More? Check out my masterlist!!

****MASTERLIST****

“Jensen?” You hiss, looking up and down the hall, and then back at your sleeping friend before stepping out into the hallway and closing the door behind you..

Jensen stepped back a little in the narrow hallway, not wanting to crowd you, shifting his feet a little uncomfortably before looking back up at you with an almost a shy expression covering his face..

"Hey."

You more than a little dumb founded, of all the people you expected to see standing in outside your motel room door in the middle of the night, Jensen was not one of those people...

You couldn't tell if he was angry or not. Personally you felt like everything was your fault.

You didn't know why, but there it was...

He and Danneel had obviously separated before he got here...

Still you couldn't help the guilty feeling in the pit of your stomach...

So you stood there examining your feet... Waiting for him to say something else...

"Hey." You echoed him.. Needing desperately to break the silence that had fallen between you.

"Let's go grab a coffee down stairs, I think I owe you an explanation." He finally said after what felt like forever.

You still couldn't look up at him for some reason, a strange feeling crossed between shame and confusion from all the drama making you feel more than a little stressed to even be seen with him in public right now..

"I'm a little underdressed."

You were wearing an oversized, faded black shirt that had Stewie from a Family Guy holding a bazooka on it that said 'I don't play well with others', and a pair of pink, purple, and black plaid pajama pants and ankle socks.

Jensen laughed slightly.

"You look fine sweetheart, and besides, I'm not much better off."

Curiosity got the best of you at that point, making you really look at him for the first time since he knocked on your door..

He was wearing a plain white T-shirt, red and black pajama pants, and flip flops. His hair was sticking up at cute random angles, and his face was a little redder than normal, his eyes had an unnatural red tent to them, and looked as if he’d either had a little too much to drink earlier, or he had been crying.. It was hard to tell which...

"It's like 3 am, nobody is gonna be down there." He said, shifting his feet uncomfortably on the floor, and looking around the hall...

He was a mess....but he still looked attractive as ever…

He hadn't shaved all day, so he had a nice five o'clock shadow going, and even though he looked like he'd just rolled out of bed after a long night out he still looked beautiful.

There was a look in his deep green eyes… One you didn’t quite understand that just wouldn’t let you turn him away...

"Fine, let me grab my wallet."

You turn to open the door to your room, but he quickly stops you as if you go into the room, you will just leave him hanging in the hallway...

"I'll pay." He said, reaching out and grabbing your hand in his, then quickly letting it go as if he’d crossed some unseen line.

"Okay."

You silently followed him to the elevators and watched as he pushed the button to the bottom floor, both of you riding in silence, not saying anything until you both had your coffee ordered from the tired looking girl behind the counter, and found a booth in the very back of the kitchen/ eating area of the hotel..

There was nobody in sight. Just the desk clerk, and the girl working for the coffee shop. The hotel was almost eerie quiet compared to all the cayos and movement of earlier today with fans and vendors working throughout the hotel, now it was all but deserted...

"I'm sorry about what Danneel did." He finally said almost in a whisper, staring at his untouched coffee cup that was sitting in front of him. "You didn't do anything wrong, and you didn't deserve that. She was just pissed, and was attacking me. Still you shouldn't have been caught in the crossfire."

He looked exhausted when he brought his hands up to his face, rubbing it harshly, and you just wanted to reach out and hug him..

"You can't control what she does Jensen. Don't worry about it. It's not that big of a deal." You tell him, not wanting him to feel like he owed you anything.

You definitely didn’t want him to feel like he owed you any sort of apology or pity..

"I read the comments." He said, staring you down now, his eyes are cold and hard, emotionless, and that’s just not like him at all. From what you’ve seen online anyway.

"It is a big deal. She was trying to make me look bad. Like I was the one who did wrong, and I didn't do shit." He said flatly, clenching his fist on the table in front of him.

"I came home early from Vancouver. I was going to surprise her. When I came through the door I found her fucking a cashier from our brewery in our living room." He said, still staring you down..

You didn't realize your mouth was hanging open until he smirked at you.

"Yeah that was pretty much my reaction too." He gave you a hollow laugh under his breath. "I stormed out and drove here. When I got here I called her and in so many words told her it was over. I was filing for divorce."

He wasn't looking at you anymore, just rambling like he needed to get all this off his chest.

"She said it was my fault she was cheating on me...... Said she was lonely, and I was never home...." He broke his sentence looking down at his lap taking deep breaths to steady himself. The unshed tears forming in his eyes was enough to make your heart want to stop beating.

Reflexively you reach across the table, and touch his hand, he stiffened, but didn't pull away.

"None of that is your fault. You didn't do anything to deserve what she did. As far as the post to the internet... You're the one that has to get up there in front of a room full of people to answer their......question." You tell him, but he's still just staring you down coldly…

But he hasn't moved his hand...

The man was hard as stone...

You could tell this had cut him deep...

It's not something he would just get over or be okay with in a month or two, this was going to take him some time to get past everything she’d done to him, and you had a feeling it didn’t start today with the cheating, but he had been manipulating him and using him for awhile now..

"You don't even know me.......why are you being nice to me right now........ Is it because I'm famous.... I have money..... What, what's the reason you didn't tell me to go fuck myself like you rightfully should have? I pulled you on stage. I'm the reason there was even a video for her to post."

You hadn't noticed until he'd stopped speaking he had laced his fingers in yours.

It shocked you.....

His words were hard, but it was like he was doing all he could to seek affection and comfort from someone..

"You didn't do anything wrong. She's the bitch that made a post out of a damn cell phone video." You tell him, becoming a little distracted by his thumb making little circles on the back of your hand.

"I don't care about your money, you can keep it. I don't care about you being famous. If you were a UPS driver or somebody flipping burgers at Burger King you still deserve to have better than what she’s done to you. 'Cause you were gone a lot and they were lonely.' That's the biggest bullshit statement I've ever heard, and definitely not a valid excuse for someone to be unfaithful."

He was looking down, jaw clenched, so you decided to stop talking. Not knowing if you were pissing him off, or if he was just tired of talking about it because it was still pretty fresh.

"She wasn't the only one that was lonely." He said, one hand spinning his untouched coffee on the table. "She at least had the kids. I had nobody."

You sit watching as his walls slowly start to come down, walls you didn’t even know were there until they started to crumble..

"I came home a little early cause I wanted some time alone with her... You're not human if you don't crave intimacy from someone, and I’m not talking about sex... Just to have someone to hold while you sleep... Someone when you wake up in the middle of the night you can roll over, and wrap up with so you don't feel so alone......so empty...... I just wanted to be able to be in contact with another person... Just for a little while before I had to be alone again." He still had a grip on your hand, but he still wouldn’t look at you, not directly. Like he was a little ashamed of his own confession.

You were pretty pissed at Danneel before you got down here, but now, now you were even more pissed.

It wasn't fair what she did to him, she didn’t deserve someone like Jensen.... You wished someone would crave you like that, just to be near you… Yet she threw it all away...Then tried to blame him for her fuck up...

"I wish I didn't feel so alone." He said, taking his hand from yours. You already missed his warm hand wrapped around yours. Your skin is still tingling where he’d been touching you.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have just dumped all that on you. Come on I'll walk you back to your room. It's 4:30 in the morning, we both need to get some sleep." He said abruptly, standing and waiting for you to do the same. Walls firmly back in place..

The elevator ride to the 5th floor was a quiet one, and the walk to your room was just as quiet. You both stop in front of the door, facing each other.

There was a look on his face you didn't recognize, pain, fear, loneliness maybe…

"Well I'd say goodnight, but... It's kinda already morning." You say, putting your hand in the door.

Without saying anything Jensen pulls you by your waist into his chest, and for a moment you were too shocked to move, until you hear him take a very unsteady breath. The both of you just stood there holding onto each other for the longest.

Finally, when you looked up at him, his eyes were unfocused, his mind somewhere else. Reaching up in a moment of boldness you touch the side of his face, bringing him back down to reality...

"Where is your room?" You asked, he looks at you confused.

"Very end of the hall." He said, jerking his head in that direction.

You break away from him and grab his hand, you lead him that way. He followed alone behind you, quiet and confused.. When you stopped at the last room he unlocked the door, still confused, but he held it open for you to come in.

Stopping just inside the door he turns to face you, his face guilty, and pained.

"I'm sorry I can't do this." He breathed out, but before he could get too carried away you reached up again touching the side of his face. He leans into your hand without realizing what he was doing.. Or maybe he did… He was a hard person to read when he was acting, and this was no different...

"We're not going to do anything." You tell him, grabbing his hand leading him to the side of the bed.

"I just couldn't stand the thought of you alone again tonight."

Understand hit him hard, and the walls around him broke again, this time like a dam, letting loose a flood of tears in their wake.

Lifting the cover he crawled into the bed. Holding the cover up for you to climb in too..

You climbed in the bed next to him, and he wrapped his arms and legs light around you. Taking another deep shaking breath.

"Thank you." He finally whispers once he gets control of his emotions some...

"Let's get some sleep. You got a lot of people waiting on you in a few hours." You say, running your fingers through his hair, hoping you weren’t pushing him too far.. He was so hurt.. So broken...

You don't know what gave you the boldness to do this.

You just could leave him alone.

Not like that..

Not that hurt.

Not that alone.

He didn't deserve what she did. He deserves to be treated like a damn God as hard as he worked for his family.

Not to be cheated on and lied to.

After only 10 minutes you felt him relax, and his breaths deepen, finally falling into a deep sleep. You drifting off to your own deep sleep wrapped up in the arms of someone you'd had a crush on for almost 15 years. It wasn't even about that at this point though. You Couldn't stand how broken he looked.

You just wanted to put him back together.

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Tag List: @screechingartisancashbailiff @thecreatiivecorner @aflamboyanceofgays @deanwanddamons @imabitch4jensen @rvgrsbrns @bi-danvers0 @onethirstyunicorn @i-love-superhero @akshi8278 @alanegaming @magssteenkamp @lemondropirwin @squirrelnotsam @hobby27 @spnbaby-67 @mrsjenniferwinchester @defenderrosetyler

Binge Tag: @sarahbaker2010

#jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles fanfition #jensen ackles fanfic #jensen x reader #jensen x you #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #dark fick #hurt!jensne #x reader inserts #jawritter

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lakritzwolf · 3 years

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You know I wanted to take parts in the 100 days of writing and the last week was so stressful I couldn’t really engage but now I think I’ll try anyway, so this would be

100 days of writing day 1-6

I have no idea how to concept this whole thing so it’s probably going to be a bit random, but trying to keep it a little chronologically feels like a good idea.

I’ve had phases of writing, phases where I wrote like a maniac, had month of producing lots of content, and then I had very, very long spells of not being able to write at all and feeling very depressed about it. Turned out, years later, that this was exactly what it was. I was diagnosed with bi-polar, so the feeling of writing like manic and then being depressed wasn’t just my imagination.

And, influenced by all sorts of stuff I read online, I was worried to start medication because I was afraid of losing my creative drive. Luckily one of my friends back then was a psychologist and she put my head on straight (she was very helpful and nice about it, obviously). So I started medication. And you know what, it really helps not having these huge, debilitating swings any more. Go figure. Don’t let online bullshit experts tell you medication curbs your creativity. it does the opposite. It allows you to channel it, and actually makes you more productive in a healthy way.

How that pertains to my writing, you wonder? Easy. It made these phases of writing like a maniac manageable. I didn’t only sit at the screen typing until my fingers hurt. I had days where I wrote 13 k words in one day. That’s not fun. And the content wasn’t as good as I know I can be. But after medication these messy days/phases are a part of my past.

I still have the swings, of course. The meds don’t take it away. But I don’t lose complete control of my life when they come, and my writing has come more controlled, more healthy, and thus, a lot better.

The last real drop came after the birth of my third child, where a post-natal depression triggered the worst drop ever. I didn’t write a word for more than two years.

And then a miracle happened. That miracle was an Unexpected Journey. I fell in love with a dwarf with golden moustache braids. I was years late to the party, but who cares?

And for the first time in years, I was able to write again. The first story was Sacred Duty, Bleeding Heart. It really isn’t as good as what I write now, and you can see me struggling to get back into a flow after a dry spell of over two years of not writing a word.

That was before I fell into the beautiful world of FiKi, who then took over my life for a while. I think to this day my favourite FiKi story is Until the sun will cease her sway.

I’m gonna stop for today, but expect a few more posts about Hobbit and FiKi before I move on to other fandoms.

#100daysofwriting #Hobbit #FiKi

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seven-oomen · 4 years

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Honey, honey | A Buddie One shot

Main ship: Eddie Diaz/Evan Buckley

Wordcount: +- 1600 words

Rating: PG-13, for language, abo mentions, and mpreg mentions

Warnings: Mentions ABO dynamics but isn’t explicit, language, mpreg mention but none of it is very graphic.

I’ve tried finding/writing sensible Spanish but I’m still learning the language so forgive me for making mistakes. I blame the duo lingo owl, he’s trying his best to teach me okay?

Based on the prompt: We've been living together for a few years now, your son calls me dad and recently you started calling me honey. But I never really connected the dots until after I posted a question online and a bunch of random strangers gave me advice. When I finally confessed my feelings for you, you told me you loved me and we've been dating since.

Based on the post: https://seven-oomen.tumblr.com/post/611873995367890944/adding-this-to-my-prompt-list-because-yeah-this

Tagging: @daughter-of-infinity because I saw your reblog of that post and know you wanted a story like this.

He stared at the page before him, biting his lip as he pondered his next move. Was he really going to ask a bunch of strangers online a question like this? What if he was wrong? What if someone he knew found out? What if Eddie did…

But at the same time, he was tired of walking on eggshells. Of not knowing what was going on between the two of them. Don't get him wrong, he wasn't against Chris calling him papa or against Eddie calling him cariño. Whatever that meant. But it was weird that everything had changed so gradually. He almost hadn't noticed it really, until Tia, Eddie's aunt, had said something about Eddie finally finding a good Alpha to raise Christopher with at the last family gathering. She had looked fondly at Buck whilst she said it. And that got him thinking. Did she think Eddie and him were dating?

Wait...

Were they?

And so, here he was. Sitting in front of his computer, staring at the Reddit ask page in front of him.

Oh, fuck it. He was already here, might as well ask some random strangers on the internet what was going on. Surely it wouldn't come back to bite him in the ass.

He started tying.

Firehose asked a question:

What does it mean when someone changes what they've always called you?

I've (31AM) been living with my roommate and best friend (37OM) and his 11-year-old son for three years. We've been through so much together, from earthquakes and the tsunami to a lawsuit and some bullshit with his late wife and other craziness. For us, that's just on the daily. It happens. But it did forge a really strong friendship between us.

I care a lot about my friend and his son, to me they're family and I'd die to protect them and keep them safe. And I know he'd do the same for me. We're best friends and partners on the job but lately, he's been telling me that "I'm the best thing that's ever happened to him."

And I noticed his family has been smiling at me differently lately. I've been going to family meetings for two and a half years and consider them my family but the air seems to have changed, it's almost even warmer. I didn't think that was possible.

Anyway, I've noticed more things lately. Like how my friend calls me cariño, I honestly don't know what that means, and his son started calling me papa about a year ago. Which is absolutely adorable and something I encouraged, I'll admit.

But the cariño thing is bothering me as my friend smiles at me and touches my cheek when he says it. Now, we've always been very tactile in our friendship and we're completely comfortable around each other but this made me feel a bit weird. Not bad weird, just something that makes me feel something but I don't know what or why.

I just don't know what this means and I don't know how to respond to it except smile at him. Cause it does feel kinda nice. I don't know how to talk to him about it, we've never discussed our sexualities. Honestly, I'm still not sure of mine.

We've just always been really close, shared a bed during nightmares kinda close but I honestly don't know how to breach the subject with him. Am I reading too much into this? Am I dating my best friend without knowing it? Honestly, any kind of advice would be appreciated at this point. I don't want him taking this the wrong way.

TLDR: My best friend calls me cariño and his son calls me papa. I don't know why and I'm too scared to ask. I feel a lot of things but I don't know if either of us is bisexual or gay. I don't know what to do with myself. Should I ask him if he has feelings for me?

The next few days were filled with responses from Reddit. All of them pretty much said the same thing. Just ask him out already. Talk to him. Or oh my god, you are totally dating, you dingus...

So he figured he might as well take the next step. He asked Eddie that night after they put Christopher to bed.

They were watching tv together on Eddie’s bed, a beer in hand and shoulders touching.

“So- you know how you always call me cariño? What does that mean?” He asked.

Eddie gave him a rather amused look and chuckled. “It means darling or sweetheart, maybe honey, you know. It’s a term of endearment. I thought you knew that?”

The Omega cocked his head at him and scooted closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. And it felt nice to be held, so he couldn’t help but relax in his hold, laying his head on Eddie’s shoulder as he stared at his beer bottle.

“I-” he bit his lip- “I didn’t. And I just- I don’t know. It’s confusing... “

“What is?” Eddie genuinely looked concerned. He felt terrible for causing it and he wanted nothing more than to hug his best friend and press a kiss to those lips.

Fuck.

“I- are we- Eddie are we dating?”

Eddie looked at him as if Buck had gone insane and snorted. “Excuse me? What do you-” Realization seemed to set in as Buck only looked more confused at Eddie’s amusement. “Oh, you stupid bastard…” Eddie chuckled, “Buck, we’ve been dating for two years.”

It was like a floodgate had opened and another realization came over him. The handholding, laying in bed together on most nights, taking care of Christopher, Buck coming with them to family gatherings, Eddie coming to him for comfort or affection. Holy shit... How had he missed all of that?

Neither of them had dated anyone else in the last three years, he hadn’t even looked at anyone. The only people he really wanted to spend his time with were Eddie and Christopher. Hell, they went to the zoo together, to the movies, they went out for dinner- just the two of them- in fancy restaurants even.

And it had never clicked. Not even once.

“Shit…” He looked up at Eddie in surprise before breaking out in one of his trademark beaming smiles. “Guess we have been.”

Eddie gently put both their beers on the nightstand beside him and pulled Buck closer, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“Eres corto de luces, pero te amo de todos modos.” Eddie mumbled, shaking his head. (You are not the brightest bulb, but I love you anyway.)

“And that means?”

“That you’re stupid but I love you.”

He couldn’t help but smile at those words, gently cupping Eddie’s cheek as he pressed his lips against the Omega’s. “At least I’m your idiot,” He murmured.

“That you are.”

UPDATE: What does it mean when someone changes what they've always called you?

TLDR: You were all right and I was dating my best friend without realizing it. But guess what? We talked and now we’re married with three kids. Crazy what a year can change, huh?

So yeah, you guys haven’t heard from me in a year but I decided it was time to let you all know what happened between me and my best friend. So we talked that night after I posted my original story. Turns out I was dating him all along and never put two and two together. Until he did it for me. We talked that night and some other stuff and decided to take the next step together.

Naturally, everyone I knew had a good laugh about that one. Apparently, there was a betting pool on when I would realize I was dating my roomie. My sister won that one by the way.

So within the week my friend and I were engaged. He asked me, with some help from his son. It was adorable, really. He set up this really nice picnic for the three of us in the park, near the lake where we like to hang out on our days off. And he had his son come up to me to show me something he caught. (We both like insects, it’s kind of our shared thing.)

Turns out, our son was actually holding a ring. An engagement ring. And when he handed me the box, my friend took my hand, kissed it and asked me to marry him.

So of course, I said yes. We got married about six months after that. But it turns out that our night of ‘talking’ had some unforeseen consequences, and my husband was six months pregnant with twins when we walked down the aisle.

Yeah, so we married and two months later our son and our daughter were born. Our daughter in an elevator during a power outage and our son in an ambulance, on the way to the hospital. Because nothing in this family ever goes as planned it seems.

It’s been a wild year and if I think about it, I have all of that thanks to you guys. So thank you, for helping me realize what I had all along.

He finally closed his laptop and looked over to where Eddie was sleeping on the couch, Robert and Rosalie on his chest as they napped. Chris was silently drawing some pictures next to him at the table and grinned when he noticed Buck was looking.

Yeah it had been a crazy year all around, but truth be told, he would do it all over again.

So let me know what you all think of this one, would love to hear it. I very much enjoyed writing this. It was fun to just let my thoughts go and not worry about writing something good. I had fun and it made my day a bit brighter. And honestly, I hope it does that for other people too. So let me know if it did for you <3

#buddie #911 buddie #911 fanfic #buddie fanfic #ben writes fanfiction #My writing #abo fanfic #mpreg

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shawnies-rihno-blog · 5 years

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Ready For Me

A/n= Its mostly based on Ready for me by Alessia Cara. I hope you enjoy reading this. Thank you so much for reading!

WC: 2.3k

Where y/n and Shawn have feelings for eachother, but y/n can’t help but feel ignored by Shawn, so she tells him to come back for her, when he’s ready.

Warning; Brief mention of Camila + Angsty + also sum cussing

-----

It was about 2:45am, and everyone had left Shawn’s apartment. Now Shawn and I were cuddling in his bed, looking out his big window, seeing the city of Toronto alive as ever. As I look at the CN tower changing colours, I think about how I should not be here, that i should leave, because in the end I always end up hurt. Not him.

“It’s gorgeous isn’t it,” Shawn comments, as he intertwined our fingers together under the blanket.

“Ya. Kinda weird how the city looks so alive even though it's way past midnight,” I replied quietly, not wanting to ruin this peaceful vibe.

You should Leave. Leave. Leave. Dumbass Leave.

“It’s not more gorgeous than you though.”

I smile. You’re falling for him. Why are you being stupid. Leave right now.

I know I should listen to the voice in my head, but he’s so addicting, more addictive than nicotine. He is like a cigarette though, he’s bad for me but I can't have enough of him. And whenever he calls i cave in, even though the last time was supposed to be the last time I saw him.

“I’m gonna miss you so much,” he says, after awhile.

“Yea,” I say knowing he doesn’t mean it.

“You know that, y/n,”

I hum in response. Shawn was leaving Toronto tomorrow to start his North American Leg of the tour. Shawn and I weren't just friends, because friends don’t do what we do, but what we have, it's not a relationship. It isn't friendship with benefits either, because that’s just sexual attraction towards each other and this relationship isn’t based on sex. Honestly, it’s complicated like a Facebook status.

Whenever Shawn’s back in Toronto, he calls me saying he misses me, and that we should have breakfast together. He calls me over so I can sleep over at his place because he likes me very deeply. And then he leaves, whether it’s for tour, promo, or L.A. He forgets to call me and ask me if i'm okay, or even text, as if I never existed in his life. Then he’s seen with a girl, and i every single time I pretend that I couldn't care less.

He keeps saying it’s for “PR” and to help him with his new release, everytime he comes back to Toronto. But then I overhear him talking about how good she was in bed with his friends and I can't help but feel a little heartbroken. But I shouldn’t right, because we are not dating.

“You gonna stay the night here?” Shawn questions.

“Probably not,” I reply.

“Is there anything I can do to make you stay?” he asks suggestively, starting to lightly peck the crook of my neck.

“Shawn, you should go to sleep you have to wake up on time for you’re flight,”

“But I'd rather spend that time with you,” he says. And I look up to him seeing sincerity in his eyes. These are the moments that mess with my head, telling me what we have is real and that i'm actually important to Shawn.

“Please, y/n,” he says again. “C’mon it’s my last night, and i wanna spend it with you,” he continues.

“Okay,” I agree reluctantly. “ But all we are going to do is sleep, cus I have an early class tomorrow and you have to catch a flight,” I added.

“As long as I'm with you baby, nothing else matters,” he adds lovingly. So much for being just friends.

----

I wake up to sunlight shining brightly in my eyes. Then i feel little pecks on my face. On my forehead, both cheeks, my nose and lastly my lips. I instantly smiled, knowing who is kissing me.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” Shawn says raspily, with a wide smile on his face.

“Morning, what time is it.”

“7:15.”

“Oh okay, i have to leave in like 20,”

“Why don’t you go freshen up, and i’ll make you breakfast?” Shawn suggests.

“Watch you burn down the whole kitchen,” I add cockily.

“I’m an amazing cook! And i don’t burn stuff,” he replies defensively.

“Mhmm. I'm gonna pretend to believe that.”

I get out of his bed and head to the bathroom freshening up. When I’m done I head to the kitchen, meeting a shirtless Shawn who is wearing only his pajama pants. It wouldn’t be horrible to be stuck with this view for the rest of my life.

He turns around, clearly amused by my staring, “like what you see?” he questions as he moves the pancake from the pan to the plate.

“Shut up, it’s not good to be self obsessed,”

“But if you look as good as me, its okay right?!”

He presents the plate of pancakes with maple syrup on top. When I'm done taking my first bite, Shawn says “Ya i know they taste good, no need to tell me.”

“Actually I was gonna say, that they are really bad,”

“Heyyyy!”

“I’m kidding, they are really good,”

“Ya i know,” He replied cockily.

After finishing my breakfast, while chatting with Shawn, I tell him I have to go, or i will miss my class. I head to the door, Shawn grabs me, pulling me into him. Pecking my forehead and then kissing me with passion.

“Don’t leave, please.”

“You know I have too, Shawn.”

“Ya…” he replies sadly.

I can’t help walking out the door a little disappointed. Maybe i should've stayed, it’s just one class right? I push those thoughts out of my head and head to my apartment to grab my books. I hear my phone go off as I walk out of my apartment heading to my university.

Shawn: I miss you!

I swear this boy. He’s going to make me go crazy. I reply with a quick “i just saw you, you can’t possibly miss me,” and head to class, clearing my head.

---

It’s been 3 weeks since our last conversation. I shouldn’t be surprised but I always am. The last time we talked was when I texted him congratulating him on Senorita and he replied with a simple ‘thank you’. I asked him how tour was going, but he just replied with a great, not putting much effort in the conversation, so I didn't either.

One day as I'm scrolling across Instagram, i see a post of E!News, talking about Shawn seen mingling with a girl. I didn’t care much until i found out who the girl was. Camila Cabello. She was the girl Shawn filmed Senorita with. I really thought Senorita was just a music video, because Shawn always said they were just friends, so I didn't pay much attention. But after seeing those pictures i couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy.

Last time we saw eachother, I really thought we could be something, and that i wouldn’t end up hurt. But I'm always wrong aren’t I. It’s my fault for being involved with a guy like Shawn anyways. Why would he settle with me, a girl who doesn’t even have her life together yet.

The worst part is, none of Shawn and I’s friends know about our ‘relationship’ because as Shawn said “our relationship is gonna get leaked, and Andrew is not gonna be a big fan of that,” so I can’t go to them asking for comfort. I don’t know if i was hurt about the fact that Shawn did what he does again, or that I was stupid enough to think that he would settle with me.

Days pass and more videos and pictures of them surface online, one of the videos bothering me particularly. Shawn didn’t bother contacting me, so I didn't either.

---

As summer came by, my friends from university and I decided to camp up north of Toronto. While camping i made a lot of new friends, one particularly cute one, named Jackson. We got really close, and later I found out we were both studying the same field. By the end of the trip he asked me for my number, which I gave happily.

When I got back home from the trip, the first thing I did was open Instagram and post pictures from the trip, since there was no internet in the woods. I also started hanging out with Jackson, he made me happy, but I couldn't help but think I was cheating on Shawn.

Jackson and I end up going on a couple of dates, both enjoying each other's company. One night, after I get back from a party, Shawn calls me. I’m a little confused and surprised by not knowing the reason behind his call. I answer his call, not knowing what to do.

“Heyy! y/n, i came to Toronto for like 2 days. I was hoping we could meet up.”

“Hii... That’s random, lol.”

“Ya i know, i was missing you so i thought to visit Toronto and see you.” Here we go again with his bullshit.

“Oh.” I reply clearly unimpressed.

“Well I’m actually right outside your apartment, wanna open the door for me?” He questions and I can already imagine the big smile on his face.

I end the call and head to open the door. As soon as I opened the door, Shawn grabs me and hugs me tightly, as if he let go, his world would collapse.

“Shawn please stop,” i try pushing him away.

“What?” he questions, hurt flashing on his face for a brief second.

“You can’t just pretend to miss me, when you didn’t even contact me once in the past four months,” I state trying to hide my feelings.

“But i do miss you, you know im really bad with communication, and most of the time I don't even have my phone.” He tries to explain. I can already feel my heart empathizing with him, but I tell myself that I'm not going to fall for his lies this time.

“Shawn, its- uh- i don’t know, but you need to stop with your excuses.”

“But they are not excuses, and you know that. C’mon i thought you were the one person who actually understood me.”

“No! Don’t you dare say that. I try my best to understand you and your bullshit. But I can’t okay!” I say raising my voice, he was starting to piss me off.

“What bullshit? If you are really complaining about me not contacting me, maybe you should’ve!” Shawn replies, raising his voice to match mine.

“I did!”

“Ya once, congratulating me, and I REPLIED. You are the one who left me on seen after that.”

“Shawn, maybe you should leave, we can have this conversation later.” I replied quietly, knowing raising my voice would do nothing.

“Why? Cus’ your boyfriend is coming over?” Shawn scoffs. I’m taken aback by his remark, since when did I have a boyfriend.

“What boyfriend?” I question, truly confused.

“Who are you lying to here?”

“Shawn i don’t have a boyfriend, why are you accusing me of shit.”

“Oh really, so that Johnson guy is just your friend right?” Shawn spits.

“You mean Jackson?”

“You really think I give a crap about his name.”

“We are not dating, but yea we’ve been on dates, but why would that even matter, when you don’t even care about me.” I say, getting more pissed off by the second.

“Wow. I guess I really was wrong about you. I really thought we had something, but you throw that right out the window as soon as someone makes a move on you? Honestly I can't even say that, maybe you made a move-” I cut him off, because he’s being ridiculous.

“Oh don’t you even dare go there. You cannot say this shit to me, you’re the one who threw us out the window the second you decided to kiss that girl. Do you even realise what you're doing.” I say raising my voice again.

“I told you it’s PR! What part of that do you not understand?!” He replied angrily.

“Oh I thought, only hand holding was for PR, i guess you finally got an upgrade and started sucking girl’s face publicly.” I say clearly pissed.

“Why do you have a problem with my career! You know this is apart of my life. Why can’t you understand that.”

“Cus’ clearly i’m not apart of your life,” I say, tears forming in my eyes.

“Y/n, you’re the biggest part of my life,” Shawn says quietly.

“Right, that's why we can’t walk down a street, or that's why our friends can’t find out about us, because you're too scared or probably too ashamed to be with me.” I say, tears threatening to spill.

“I'm not ashamed to be with you. There is nothing to be ashamed off. There is just so much going on in my life, and I don't want to pressure you with my life. And I still have a lot of things to figure out.” Shawn’s face is flushed now, probably by all the yelling.

“Right and you think pushing me away is totally helping me?” I question.

“Y/n-”

“No just stop okay! You clearly have too much going on, and you keep saying everything is PR when i don’t even know if it really is. You aren’t ready for me or this relationship-”

“No you can’t just-”

“Shawn just don’t even okay! Figure things out, and come back. And i'm not saying i’m gonna wait for you, cus’ I’m not gonna and i'm not going to promise and then lie, but I'll always be around.” I say wiping tears away, trying my best not to breakdown in front of him.

“Y/n, just please- i’m begging you, just give me a chance,” Shawn begs with tears in his eyes.

“Shawn, please figure things out, do what you have to do until you’re ready for me.” I say, as I can feel my heart physically crack.

The funny thing is, when an addict is over his addiction, he feels happy as if he has accomplished something. But I can't help but feel empty and weak inside, even though I got over my addiction.

I guess yay for me!

---------

oMg. I don’t even know if i like how i wrote it, but i like the idea of this idk!!! But thankyou SOOOOOOOOO much for reading, it means so muchhhhh. I hope there aren’t many errors or gramatical mistakes. I hope u enjoyed reading it, pls leave feedback if u like! X.

Also if you have requests, you can leave them in my inbox!

Thankyou once again!!!!

#shawn mendes #Shawn Mendes Imagine #shawn mendes smut #shawn mendes masterlist

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incarnateirony · 4 years

Text

why do people seem to think i’m a big name blogger

i only have like 1800 followers (or I guess closer to 1900 now?), that’s pocket change compared to some of the people around here

i know there’s people with less, and that doesn’t make you invalid or anything. Because it’s not about size. It’s either about quality or about enjoyment, and really, your latter should come first in fandom. If you have a hobby blog designed to spread enjoyment, then yes, quality. If you positively impact just 5 people’s lives on the regular, you’ve done a good thing.

This falls in line with my “anyone can meta” and moods about who feels comfortable metaing or having those opinions, but it’s become a general sentiment.

And most of all don’t feel like you need to lockstep with me. now, not lockstepping with me doesn’t mean "shit directly on someone’s positive content post like a whole entitled jackass”, but like. I don’t care if you were some little blog with 10 followers that I gave a boost and now you’re kinda popular. you don’t owe me shit.

Because that’s another weird thing and I think people need to practice self-care on this more. Four different people, on four different occasions, that were incensed I wouldn’t fall into borg mind or surrender my opinions, have tried to claim they “made” me. Ironically, none of them did. Like even ignoring my following point, even in the way they meant it -- which is the irony.

When Kelloggs club pounced on my first ever fandom tweet years ago for the sin of having a Cas plushie icon, and I floored them with numbers they had never seen and got blocked by the whole damn hoard in my first hour in fandom like a temporary urban legend, I made me. Sure, they drew attention and made a shitshow. Sure, it led to me being drawn into group chats that expanded my networking and stuff. But I made me. When a big name fan was upset at how much traction I’d gained in a month, because this fandom is obsessed with clout for some goddamn reason, and I stood my ground? They drew attention. But the way I held my ground? I made me.

When TAW went bananas on me for catching him hand in the cookie jar with Misha and my unwillingness to be backed off that turned heads? I made me. Everybody helped with of course blacklisttaw, but I didn’t make blacklisttaw, everyone made blacklisttaw, I just started it. And it worked. Because of everybody. He hasn’t had a non-indie job aside from things being re-re-re-re-reannounced from 2008 plans or things stuck in production purgatory since 2014 releasing late since. That ain’t all my credit. I didn’t MAKE that. I started it, maybe. But you guys made that. I just stood there with a megaphone for those who weren’t positioned to speak, and gave some cornerstones. Everybody else’s work did the rest.

(And ironically, NONE of the people that wanted me to feel like they MADE me were involved in that. I think they all actually came after all of these things.)

The people along the way help. But just because someone helps you doesn’t mean you’re indentured to them, their demands, or even their abuse for life, or touting every single thing they say as truth.

Whatever content you made that got shared? You made that. You made you. Your thoughts, opinions, contributions, choices made you. Someone giving you a digital nickel along the way, or even a digital hundred dolla bill, doesn’t obligate you to them. If they genuinely appreciated your thoughts and content instead of finding it temporarily useful or convenient... then they gained the benefit of your contribution in exchange. If someone had another intent, that’s on them.

(honestly same goes for RL on this point; sure try to repay people but repayment doesn’t mean you’re shackled to them for all eternity and if someone said they wanted to HELP you and then turned around like “ok and the interest accrued is--” or flags it around as some weight? Fuckin’ run. RUN AWAY. “Help” doesn’t come with a leash or a motive. It comes because they want to help. And anyone that spins that around on you -- life lesson -- holy shit. Run. You help people because you care, whether that’s about them as an individual or general human empathy -- not for what you get out of it. And again seriously guys REAL LIFE PLEASE KEEP THIS IN MIND IF YOU TAKE NOTHING ELSE FROM ANYTHING I EVER SAID. If someone had told me this when I was younger I would have dodged YEARS of receiving violence. It’s like the shittier, less competent version of mob logic, only at least the mob is honest that they’re gonna break your kneecaps if you fuck up before you get started. Y’know what? I value honesty. If you’re gonna demand something, be honest and threaten my kneecaps up front.)

Nobody made you but you. I helped along the way, or some other people helped. But I’m never going to be like HOW DARE YOU HAVE A DIFFERENT OPINION I MADE YOU!!!!!!! because like-- is anybody watching the show right now? Anybody at all? Chuck’s stomping around and throwing hissyfits because hE mAdE thEm AnD hE’Ll ShoW tHEm and like in the end, Chuck didn’t make them. Maybe he influenced things around them. But they’re making themselves.

And I feel like this fandom would do so much better if they abandoned this tribalistic herd mind nonsense for fear of obligation to *whatever* because guys, people who hold you to that? They’re abusers. Like. Literally. No lie. Shit man. Those people online can’t even “make” anyone, because they only make themselves, and then people react to what they’ve made of themselves. Everyone decides they’re too much? Too bitter? Too whatever? Everybody stops spreading their content? Guess what they’ve got. A big ball of Too Much Bitter on their dash and nothing else. But you know what? They made them. They made that. They make that big ball of whatever.

Like congrats guys you temporarily liked my opinions when you liked them and strolled along when I was at like 700 followers already and now that you don’t you’re gonna-- what? Get mad at other opinions? Come on now. People aren’t just tools to be waved around. We’re complex. You’re complex. Hopefully you all treat other people as complex. Never put yourself in a digital collar to jump through digital flaming hoops for fear of some kind of digital retaliation.

Hell, if there’s one moral from How-I-Made-Me in that list above, that’s it, really. Lmao, fuck the borg guys, come on. You do you. My path was essentially “Fuck the bronlies, fuck the extreme con crowd, fuck sexual predators, and fuck extremes of any fandom lane, even if that’s a lane within my own ship.” -- your path doesn’t have to be my path. You make your path. You just share it with people on the way. If they diverge, they don’t get to throw you down whatever hill they’ve declared is the one to go down. And definitely make sure in the land of “all opinions/interpretations are equal” that is said online like a parrot stuck in a loop, you’re not letting them use that to completely ironically steamroll over your own while leaving theirs unchecked of any real compunction.

So no, don’t come shit on my posts directly, don’t come whatever. But don’t ever just lockstep with me, or anyone else, because you feel some weird form of obligation over something as irrelevant as digital clout in the world of a TV fandom that IS ENDING ANYWAY so WHAT THE FUCK. The people you have around you? The views you soak? The follows you have? Good and bad. Those are what are going to paint the rest of your experience for this show you (theoretically) love from here into eternity.

Am I too loud? That’s fine. You do you. Is someone else too perpetually bitter? Don’t tie yourself to them. Pay close attention to what is sculpting your fandom experience in this final hour and into its life beyond. Because that’s gonna be the difference between you keeping love for this show in your heart once it’s off the air or petering off into distressed disfavor for it.

At one point when the show was ending, I thought “I’ma follow every account like in the history of ever” and man was that a bad idea. A few sweeps later and I’ve cleared out bitter bullshit clogging my dash, random cacophony, and have nothing but good shit to reblog again and damn if that isn’t even gonna make the experience of everyone in my proximity better too. Much less my own. And yeah, that matters. It’s called fandom. It’s supposed to be fun. Not obligate chaos.

Either people take you as you are, or they don’t. Fuck the ones that just want parts of you for a time and want to discard the rest. Those people aren’t worth your time. Hell, that even wants to go for people who have dedicated bitter blogs. You wanna be bitter and nasty okay that’s fine, if somebody is just there for some other shit and then gets mad that you’re bitter after goddamn choosing to follow you knowing full god damn and well you’re bitter, they can fuck off too. Stay mad if you want. You do you. I might say it’s probably not the best for mental health and general wellness but in the end that’s still up to you. And put an asterisk that doing shit on tumblr is different than twitter where if you make a bunch of rowdy bitter people in your area and you or they start shit-tagging creatives and doing the above kinda bullshit, no, that doesn’t work the same. Or like the multishipper I saw getting attacked despite making a whole other blogspace to keep their wincest away from impacting other people’s eyes like -- if they’re hunting down that side account just to cause bullshit, fuck them too. Seriously, fuck the borg.

#supernatural #fandom #ethics #honesty #manipulation #independence #group think #free thinkers

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internaljiujitsu · 4 years

Text

5 Realizations That (Finally) Got Me Off The ADHD Treadmill

I used to hate reading books. I did it anyway but couldn’t last more than five or ten minutes before dozing off or having my mind dart away to distant lands. Like the skinny kid with no appetite that had to force feed himself to pack on muscle, I shoved books into my brain because I hated the idea of not being well read more than I hated reading.

As a kid, I often left things undone. — or worn out to the nub. After beginning enthusiastically, I’d soon lose steam and beat myself from pillar to post for quitting. I’d always hang around through the torture just to avoid the sting of giving up again. Once the interest was gone, whatever I was doing became pure misery. This would inevitably lead to mental and physical breakdown, as every cell in my body rejected the reality my mind was accepting.

I got good grades and excelled athletically but always thought I could do better. There seemed to be a gear missing — the one that I just knew could take me to a place that felt right. If I were just better, more disciplined and able to focus more — but I didn’t think I had it in me.

Back then, I didn’t know I was working with a slight disadvantage. While medication has played a crucial role in managing my ADHD, and no doubt would have made a massive difference in my childhood, it’s been just as important to build coping and productivity skills. While ADHD makes it difficult to work for other people, it also challenges your ability to self-regulate. Your perception of time is thrown off, so keeping track of your own schedule can be tough without a system.

Before I ever tried medication, in my forties, I spent my life learning skills to make up for what I saw as inadequacies. I’m thankful that I built a technical foundation before supplementing with chemicals, but eternally grateful for what meds have done for me. Once I was properly diagnosed, I realized that the progress I was able to make on my own was astonishing. Giving myself credit for putting in the work motivated me further. The medication made it all click. It was the missing piece I’d been searching for after years of hard inner and outer training.

Here are my five keys for finally jumping off the ADHD treadmill. Once I inserted these into my belief system, I no longer felt hopeless. The limiting, negative self-talk stopped. It took a long time to finally put everything together, but the results have been life changing.

Meds Are Not Evil

Like a lot of other people, I didn’t believe ADHD was real. My perception was that it was a made up disorder designed by drug companies to pump kids full of personality stifling drugs — an excuse for parents to medicate energetic kids and abdicate responsibility.

Meanwhile, I lived every day in lonely terror, until my symptoms became so overwhelming that I became suicidal. At that point, medicine was my last hope. I read books, meditated, prayed, had countless therapy sessions, including EMDR, and took massive action to change my life — but I hit a healing wall. I needed a boost.

The wiring in my brain makes it so ADHD medication that would make the average person speedy simply makes me feel normal. I am no longer listless and suicidal, disappointed in myself because my aspirations outweigh my self-belief. Before meds, it felt as if I was receiving random radio signals from everywhere. The one that always caught my ear never had anything good to say. Still, my disciplined nature dragged me through my days.

The stigma against medication and the dangerous abuse of these drugs by the general public has left many people unnecessarily living in misery. Prisons and homeless shelters are purgatories for the mislabeled, ignored and discarded members of society unlucky enough to suffer from mental illness. How many of those fortunes could have been altered with the right diagnosis, treatment and protocol?

2. Medication + Discipline = Badass

As a person that uses discipline as therapy, I once thought I could muscle my way through pain. Becoming older in the martial arts world means you have to fight smarter. That’s the trade off — you are wiser and have a much better understanding of your art, but your body does not react the same. Nature seeks balance.

But fuck that. If you take care of yourself, you can whip on the youngins long after your head is covered in gray. Combining experience with conditioning makes you unstoppable. That’s how I see my mental health approach.

If you have no clarity, you won’t make the best choices. You simply can’t see what’s in front of you without a trained eye. The frantic nature of the ADHD mind is like a white belt thrown into what we call the “shark tank.” It’s a relentless onslaught of tough competitors coming in fresh at intervals to continuously beat your ass. No place for white belts. That’s what life feels like off my meds.

The passions that occupy my time have kept my brain buzzing enough to distract me from my buzzing brain. Now that the unwanted chatter is gone, I can feel the good kind of buzz — the warm, fuzzy feeling of loving what I do without feeling like I have to do it.

Would I have preferred avoiding all the pain I felt over the years and just been medicated all along? No. If life didn’t necessitate that I acquire the skills that I have, I wouldn’t have been driven to pursue them. I may have relied too much on the drug. I would not have changed. But I have a feeling the relief of the meds wouldn’t have been enough — It’s just not who I am. I know that now. Eventually, I would have gone searching. At times I almost feel like I have an unfair advantage now. Technical ability and practical experience. Strength and skill. Balance. I’m glad it happened the way it did.

3. You Feel How You Eat

While nutrition has always been important to me for physical fitness, I was more concerned with appearance. As I got older, my focus became increasing my energy levels and feeling better. It wasn’t until after being diagnosed and forming habits around optimizing my abilities that I realized the importance of nutrition for good mental health. Inflammation caused by certain foods is detrimental to brain function and a frequent culprit in ADHD.

Once you’ve gone down a suicidal rabbit whole, giving up gluten is a tiny price to pay for sanity. Not that you know what sanity is — you just know you don’t have it.

Unfortunately, a lot of people don’t give a second thought to the type of food they put in their mouths. Lifestyle is a gigantic factor in mental fitness. Eating foods that promote brain health (fatty fish, blueberries, avocados) and avoiding processed products and sugar will ensure you have the energy and mental clarity to face the day.

4. Your Phone Is A Tool

People love to complain about how their phones have taken over their lives, but we’ve got the most amazing tools ever invented in our pockets. You can read books, listen to podcasts, watch Ted Talks — non stop learning at your fingertips — all the time.

But, with great power comes great responsibility (Stan Lee will never steer you wrong). Just like television can range from “The Sopranos” to “Jersey Shore,” your cell phone can educate or anesthetize you. If you’re not disciplined, your time will be eaten up swiping left to right and “liking” shit you couldn’t care less about.

Take advantage of your calendar and alarm features to schedule everything. Don’t assume you’re gonna remember, because let’s be honest, you’re gonna forget. Use voice memos and notes to keep track of ideas and journal your feelings and thoughts. You know you have to keep yourself occupied, so download the Kindle app and have a book at the ready for down time. Listen to a guided meditation. Take an online course on the go. Learn a new language. It really is endless. Use it wisely, and your phone is the ultimate weapon. No utility belt required.

5. Less Sleep Isn’t Helping

Feeling lazy had me convinced I needed to force myself to do more. That meant getting up earlier so I could get shit done. With a schedule that had me winding down at ten o’clock at night after teaching martial arts classes, it was tough to go right to bed. If I wasn’t careful, I’d lose a half hour of sleep here and there because I wanted to stay up watching television (which miraculously has a way of leading to chips or ice cream). Arnold Schwarzzenegger famously said that you should learn to sleep faster if you can’t get by on six hours of sleep. After years of insisting on shutting down for a minimum of 7–8 hours to promote physical recovery from training, I tried getting by on just 5–6 hours. No dice.

My brain and body just don’t work the same. The sleep I was getting wasn’t all that restful either. I’d frequently wake up during the night feeling restless. It wasn’t until I developed sleep rituals that I began falling asleep quickly and getting a deeper rest. With repetition, my body and mind got used to the same sequence of events every night leading up to bed time. Once I trained my brain, my body knew what to do as soon as my head hit the pillow.

By now, I’ve learned that seven hours is my sweet spot. Eight clean hours can make me feel like superman (mental note: start sleeping eight hours a night).

Recent research suggests ADHD symptoms are often a result of insufficient restful sleep. Sleep deprivation also exacerbates symptoms in kids and adults with ADHD. Your physical and emotional state is undoubtedly better when you get sufficient rest. Staying up late into the night with unproductive bullshit is a mistake, but so is getting by on five hours because you want to prove you’re a tough grinder. You simply won’t be functioning as well. It’s self-sabotage.

There is no magic pill to fix you. If you think of meds that way, you’ll be putting scotch tape on a gunshot wound. You’ve gotta stop the bleeding. Dig the bullet out. Repair the internal damage — then stitch it up. You’ve gotta let it heal and start actively rehabilitating if you want to get stronger. It’s not going to happen by accident or by divine intervention — even though it may feel like that in the end.

Although I’ve developed a good arsenal of skills to maximize my mental wellbeing, I still want to continue growing. My next step will be scanning my brain to understand what areas are being over or under stimulated and adjusting my lifestyle accordingly. As Dr. Daniel Amen, one of the nation’s foremost psychiatrists and a leading expert on brain health says, “Did you know that psychiatrists are the only medical specialists that virtually never look at the organ they treat? Think about it. Cardiologists look, neurologists look, orthopedic doctors look, virtually every other medical specialist looks — psychiatrists guess.”

It seems so obvious now that I want to run out and get my brain scanned as I write this. I’m excited to discover what changes I can make to improve my performance and sense of well being. Brain imaging will provide a road map.

No matter the cards you’ve been dealt, planning and hard work can help you become who you want to be. No circumstance is a limitation to an open mind. There are always ways to improve if you’re willing to search long enough. Luckily for me, I tend to get a little obsessed.

#adhd #mind #body #fitness #health #wellness #depression #anxiety #treatment #medication #mentalhealth #internaljiujitsu

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wellknownwolf · 4 years

Note

I want to move into a new phase in my relationship with fandom, as I mature with new experiences. I'm not sure what exactly that looks like though. What is your take on the parasocial affection inherent in an RPF like Rhett & Link? Or even the deep attachments that can form with fictional characters? Or a desire to emulate fantasy worlds? I'm sorry if I've made you uncomfortable with all this, it's just that it's been a long time coming, and once I got started I couldn't stop. - Natasha (5)

First, let me post the full question, since it came in 5 parts:

Hey, it's me again. Your 'mystery inquirer', as you so adorably dubbed me. You're right, I had forgotten I'd sent in that ask. Just now, I couldn't help but think about a scene from Life After, as I am wont to on a frightfully regular basis, which is what got me back here. When you said you pondered over my seemingly simple, banal question for a good while, and wrote out a beautifully thoughtful answer like you always do, it made me happy.

Your narrative voice is similar to my own, and it made my chest ache in a certain way to have gotten such a response to what felt like a random shout out into the abyss (though it obviously wasn't, I sent it directly to you, I guess it's more what it felt like taking a chance on a conversation with a random stranger online). And now I'm cringing a bit at how melodramatic all sounds. But I'm committing to it, anyway. That's the beauty of anon, eh?

Wolfie (is it presumptuous to call you that? Please do forgive me the liberty I'm taking), I must admit. I'm quite envious of this community you have with @missingparentheses, @lunar-winterlude, and other wonderful people. Since childhood, I've been head over heels in love with fandom. Not a specific fandom, I've been a traveller through dozens, but fandom in general. I've read probably thousands of fanfics, spent countless hours daydreaming about beloved characters and their stories.

To the point where, in my most recent and worst depressive episode, it may have been for the worse, if I'm honest. Escapism and yearning to the point of impairment, engendering a sense of constant bereavement. But it's taught me so much about life and its wonders, I can't write it off as just some damaging habit. It's such an integral part of who I am, a deeply curious soul (shout out to my Enneagram Type 5-ers out there!). But I don't anyone to share it with, and it can get quite lonely.

.....................................................................

Thank you for giving me so much to respond to, Natasha. Thank you for continuing to reach out. I accidentally wrote something like a paper in response to your thoughtful question. I even conducted a little research and cited a source. ENGLISH TEACHER, ACTIVATE!

Also, for what it’s worth, I feel at times that I communicate exclusively through shouts into the abyss, so it’s a language with which I am at home. In fact, it is this very technique, this experiment with intense vulnerability at the hands of a virtual stranger, that earned me one of my absolutely most-treasured friends: @missingparentheses. I have poured out a great deal of my own melodrama to her, and she has received it and reciprocated it in a way that, three years later, continues to teach me how to be a better friend. In short, I’m a firm believer in diving straight in when it comes to new friends. Cringe not; I’m on board.

So let’s dive.

R&L is really only the second “fandom” with which I’ve been involved. Third, if we count my preteen obsession with ‘N Sync (and considering how much wall space I dedicated to their posters and self-printed photos, we probably should). My point is, while I don’t have much experience with the community facet of fandom, I do relate to your feeling of near-obsession. Or clear obsession.

I know the feeling of escapism you’re describing, and I know the yearning and melancholy that can come on our worst days, where we feel like “real life” will never measure up to the color and brilliance of the worlds we spend so much time considering. These worlds, these characters and their relationships, their challenges, victories, and defeats all seem so purposeful: they’re the plot points we use to craft the stories in our heads (regardless of whether we’re writers at all). It can be much harder to view ourselves as protagonists worth analyzing, viewing and reviewing through new lenses, perhaps because we’re warned against navel-gazing, perhaps because our self-perception just won’t allow for it. Maybe a little of both.

But yes! It teaches us! We DO learn about life, other people, love, risk, all kinds of things through what we consume in these fandoms, so I would never classify it as a “bad” thing. We hone our imaginations and learn to pay attention to our own emotions as we recognize feelings from our favorite shows, games, books, and characters arising in ourselves.

I used to be a little afraid of the fact that I was always telling myself stories, internally imagining myself as someone else, a player in the worlds I often loved more than my own. I suspected that someday, somehow, I would be caught playing pretend all the time in my own little ways. I was a bright and ambitious young woman, so why would I give so much of my mental energy to such frivolous pursuits?

In my first semester of graduate school, though, I learned from a Lit. Theory professor who intimidated the hell out of me that we all do this. We’re all telling ourselves stories all the time, some of which are true and close to objective reality, some of which are more subjective to whatever fantastical (or fandom) material we last consumed. I’ve whispered my own dialogue in the shower, but so have you whispered yours in your head (if not also out loud in your shower!). And through this act, however it is performed, I have made those worlds part of my own. So have you. In this way, they are real, and I no longer feel fearful of being “found out.”

When we have those moments of doubt, though, when we wonder whether we’re going too far, it probably stems, at least partially, from the “us v. them” divide between fandom and mainstream society. We love our little worlds, but we also feel that twinge of anxiety that we might be bordering on obsession, that our guilty pleasure might be discovered and we will be socially punished for it, namely, as Joli Jensen writes in “Fandom as Pathology: The Consequences of Characterization,” because “the fan is characterized as (at least potentially) an obsessed loner, suffering from a disease of isolation, or a frenzied crowd member, suffering from a disease of contagion. In either case, the fan is seen as being irrational, out of control, and prey to a number of external forces” (13). According the consistent covert (and overt, at times) messages of the mainstream, “[f]andom is conceived of as a chronic attempt to compensate for a perceived personal lack of autonomy, absence of community, incomplete identity, lack of power and lack of recognition” (Jensen 17). Yikes. That doesn’t feel good to admit about ourselves, does it?

Luckily, it’s bullshit.

Treating “fans” as others (outsiders, people who can’t form relationships or find fulfillment in the “real world”) “risks denigrating them in ways that are insulting and absurd” (Jensen 25). Those who take this stance, who see fans as victims of hysteria or desperate loners, do so in order to “develop and defend a self-serving moral landscape. That terrain cultivates in us a dishonorable moral stance of superiority, because it makes other into examples of extrinsic forces, while implying that we [members solely of the mainstream] somehow remain pure, autonomous, ad unafflicted” (Jensen 25). In short, that us/them thinking just makes people feel better about themselves by pointing out an easily-identifiable “other.”

I have also grappled with the concept of parasocial affection, particularly with R&L. I was well into writing my first Rhink fic when the thought crossed my mind, “Oh my god, what if I actually met these people someday? How would I look them in the eye? I’d feel like a crazy person (again)!” From the safety of the Midwest, I laughed off the thought. And then a year or so later, they were announcing their first tour. And I was still writing, here and there, still deep in my affection for them, sometimes wrestling with the thought that I’ve devoted so much energy to people who would never know I exist.

It doesn’t matter that the attachment was in the most obvious, tangible ways only one-sided. As an adult who is ever-learning how to navigate the worlds of her own creation and the ones over which she has far less control, I view my intense attachment to characters both real and fictional with deep fondness. And while I may not receive affection or attention directly from the sources (R&L, fictional characters, sports teams, who/whatever we build fandoms around), I am still earning some very real rewards for my involvement: Because of them, I found my way to a participatory culture in which I was supported and encouraged to express my creativity. This gave me the push and interest that I needed to hone skills that have not only made me a better writer, but also a better teacher and mentor. With fandom comes the ability to immediately strike up a conversation over shared interests. With fandom comes a sense of belonging in what we have proven is an awfully divisive world.

Right now, I’m consuming far less fandom-related material than I did a few years ago. I don’t really watch GMM anymore and I’m on a break from Ear Biscuits (though I still love it), Gotham ended over a year ago and I’m not in the habit of reading fics right now, and I can’t yet play the remade Final Fantasy 7, so that’s out for me, too (though I know I will fall deep into that well once the game is in my hot little hands). This all happened by itself. I never consciously moved away from these sources; I just floated on to other interests and other levels of interest, knowing that if and when I wanted to dig back in, I could always come back.

I used to feel quite sad at the thought of someday “moving on” from these intense interests. I couldn’t fathom somehow falling out of love with those bands, actors, or video games. But for me, the transition into wherever I am now has not been painful in the least. I’m glad I knew the intensity that I did, and I’m happy with the distance I have now. And there’s a good chance I’ll be fanatic about something else someday. I’m looking forward to it!

Here are some responses that I couldn’t organically fit into my essay:

Yes, you can call me Wolfie if you’d like. That name started with @missingparentheses (her second appearance in this answer!), and quickly became a reminder to not take myself too seriously.

Second, I don’t think I know any other Type 5s! I’m a type 8.

Also, here’s my MLA formatted citation for the Jensen source:

Jensen, Joli. “Fandom as Pathology: The Consequences of Characterization.” The Adoring Audience: Fan Culture and Popular Media, Routledge, 1992, pp. 9-29.

#ask me anything #fandom meta-discourse #bc I always said I wouldn't get involved in fandom discourse #oh no I'm us/them-ing in my tags!#shame on me!

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agents-of-virtue · 4 years

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SECRET SANTA 2K19 (A.K.A Travel Sucks)

I DON’T CARE IF IT’S 3 IN THE MORNING I’M POSTING THIS NOW BECAUSE I CAN (and because I’m going to be spending most of the day cleaning and getting ready for a party so yeah) ANYWAY

I got the lovely @agent-absinthe/ @circlesofbone!

I was really stumped on this so I asked some close friends for help (you know who you are cause I can never write in canon lol but I hope you enjoy!

Getting to visit home is always a treat. Whether home is with the people that raised you or the people you found later in life. For Rae, family was a ragtag group of people she met through an online support group called the Roanoke Society. Some of them had met up throughout the years, but they had never all been in the same place at the same time. This year was different though. The universe finally aligned and allowed all of them to be in the same place for a week. During the holidays too! A whole week of finally being able to put screen names to faces, selfies to full humans. Would it be everything she expected it to be? More? She was contemplating everything while walking up to her flight gate only to hear this:

“Attention all passengers of the two thirty Delta flight to Lexington, Kentucky. The plane has been grounded due to inclement weather in the Chicago area and will be canceled. Please come to the Delta help desk for any needed arrangements.”

Rae groaned. “Delta help desk… Fucking oxymoron.” She trudged over to this so called ‘help desk’. Of course, it was flooded with angry travelers. It took what felt like ages before Rae was finally able to get to the front of the desk to try and get something figured out. She was in the middle of talking to one of the staff when a man in a sharp suit and matching suitcase pulled up beside her. His accent cut through the drudgery of getting this poor help desk worker to book her a hotel until the next flight tomorrow. He was English. And good god was he cute. Hopefully they would be on the same flight tomorrow. She wouldn’t mind sitting next to him for an almost two hour flight…

And then she got to the hotel. “What do you mean the room is double booked? I had the room booked for me at the airport by Delta only half an hour ago!” Rae was confused and honestly getting a bit fed up with this bullshit. She took a deep breath. None of this was the worker’s fault. The stress of everything was just building up. “Just,” another deep breath, “are there any more rooms available? At all?”

“I’m afraid not.” That voice… She looked behind her to find the man from earlier. “I just had them check and it seems we were both booked for the last room. You can have it. I’ll go find something else.” He turned on his heel and started back towards the doors.

Rae took a few steps towards him. “Hey! British Guy!” That stopped him. “You really think you’ll find something available around this time of year that’s up to your standards?” She gestured to his suit and matching suitcase. “We can,” she gave an exasperated sigh, “we can share the room. I’m sure it won’t be a problem.”

There was a problem. They had gotten up to the room to find that there was only one bed. Sure, it was a queen sized bed and there was a couch on the other side of the room, but who ever really got a good night’s rest on a hotel couch?

Rae looked over at her fate-chosen companion for the night. “Well, this should be fun.” She pulled her suitcase close. “I’m gonna take a wild guess and say that you are going to insist on me taking the bed while you stick it out on that dinky little couch. And I’m going to stop you right there by saying you are not the first and you certainly won’t be the last random man to share a bed with me.” Rae started to unpack what she would need for the night and the next morning and went into the bathroom to change. She was fine changing in front of a random cute stranger, but maybe he wasn’t. She could respect that.

When she came back out, she caught the quickest glimpse of how toned he was. It made her wish she had stepped out earlier. “I guess we’ll each have a side. Unless of course you would like to sleep wrapped in the arms of a woman you don’t know?”

The man gave a soft laugh. “I don’t believe that would be very gentlemen like now would it?”

Was that a smirk? Was this Englishman smirking? At her? He was proving more interesting by the minute. “No. I guess it wouldn’t be.” Rae threw a smirk back at him as she crawled into one side of the bed. She really hoped this guy had the same flight as her tomorrow. He seemed… Interesting.

The next morning Rae found herself wrapped in a pair of arms that she didn’t recognize. Not a first, but she distinctly remembers falling asleep on her side of the bed, alone. But she didn’t mind. Her eyes opened to see that Englishman. She really needed to learn his name. She can’t just keep thinking of him as The Englishman.

Speaking of the nameless man, he was starting to stir. Rae didn’t bother extracting herself from his arms. If that smirk from last night was anything to go by, maybe he planned this. She wouldn’t be mad if he did. “Morning. Seeing as how we’ve slept together now, can I have your name?

He let out a groggy laugh. “Hart. Harry Hart. It was a pleasure keeping you company through the night, Rae.” Harry started to get out of bed and head towards the bathroom. Before he closed the door, he turned to face her. “If you’re wondering, I saw it on your toiletry bag. Your name.” He gave her a small smile and closed the door.

After they had both dressed, repacked, and checked out of the room, they made their way back to the airport. They were to get their new tickets at the Delta help desk. Rae couldn’t help but glance between their tickets. Her face fell just a bit. She was on the next flight out. He wasn’t. “Well, Harry Hart, it was a pleasure sleeping with you.” A smirk spread across her face. “I wouldn’t mind doing it again if our paths crossed.”

“Neither would I. You are delightful company.” Harry took her hand and shook it, pressing something into her hand. “Well, you must catch your flight and I have some business to attend to. Until we meet again, Rae.” He smiled as he took his suitcase and walked off.

Rae looked down into her hand. A business card with his name and number. That slick bastard. She smiled and looked up at his retreating figure. Their separate flights were going to the same city. Maybe they would run into each other. It could be a holiday miracle.

@the-roanoke-society

#agent succubus #former agent galahad #au #secret santa 2k19 #//I love you boo

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archmage--khadgar · 5 years

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(To explain some things! I’ve gotten a few messages of love in response to the most recent shenanigans. And also, of course, past messages of you guys throwing kindness at me and I internally 404 like woah. I rarely say nice things about myself. Partially because even though I’m heckin’ chatty once I get going. I feel really guilty and vain or like I’m oversharing or something, I dunno. The reasons why have kind of been danced around and ffwwuhhhh I might delete this post later or something who knows. A lot of this is stuff I haven’t shared at all or with most people. But I also don’t really like repeating myself too much with certain things so I’m just. Gonna do this. It’s 2:30 in the morning and I just woke up and can’t get back to sleep SO. Yeah. More under the cut. About why the “I love yous” and other nice things pretty much send me running. And make me really uncomfortable.)

I’m not looking for a pity party, just augh. I feel like it isn’t fair to keep hiding under blankets while calling myself trash and stuff without y’all knowing WHY. A lot of things are still going to be left out, either cause they’re hella buried or I still can’t talk about them yet. But uh. YEAH. Where to begin? The easiest thing to explain, I suppose, is to touch upon how I grew up in a single-parent household. Mom never said “I love you”, but she did yell, screech, and throw things at me and didn’t hold back on telling me how much I pissed her off, whenever she was home. I remember being locked and left alone in a hot car during the middle of summer when I was about 5, thankfully someone saw me crying and TO THIS DAY she’s still angry that I had cried. I’m 31. If I bring it up she immediately gets angry as if it had just happened and starts yelling how terrible I was for crying. As for my Dad, my earliest memory of him is of him telling me goodbye before walking out the door. He eventually came back Uhhhh...Sometime around 2nd grade. Did he and my mom get along at all? Nope! There’s a lot to unpack with that stuff that I won’t touch here. But I will say that it was the first case of me learning that people will say “I love you!” in hopes of swaying you to their side. My Grandparents loved me! And they showed it - shame my mom moved me away from them and OOPH I’m not going to get into that cause I’ll just start crying. :x Trying to talk while fighting off PTSD is a CHALLENGE but I am HERE FOR IT. Anywhoot. That ties heavily into the basis of why hearing someone say “I love you!” Sends me running. It sets off every red flag. “What do they want? Why are they saying that? They’re trying to get something from me. What are they trying to get from me?” I can think of how despite all the BS, I still tried to be nice even though I was really fucking weird and the poor kid at school in a time where living with a single parent meant something was wrong with you and all that shit. (Fuuuuuck the 90′s!) GOSH there really is a lot, it’s hard to pick and choose the right things to say. (For amusement: as a kid, I had a teacher who said that I was “cool as cucumber” and if that isn’t some fucking foreshadowing I don’t know what is. I also liked to collect rocks. And I read The Raven when I was like. 6 or 7 and memorized the fucking thing. Coincidence? I think NOT- yeah prolly just a coincidence.) It’s really hard to describe the bullying because it wasn’t all pulled hair and getting gum in it and I never got shoved into a locker. Others would lie, however, in order to get me in trouble. My clothes also would get pulled off. Belongings got stolen. Mom tried to spread a rumor that I fooling around with a new guy every week. Her excuse was.....”Well, you never tell me who you have a crush on or if you’re dating anyone at school, so what else am I supposed to think?” You know that scene in middle school/high school shows where the main kid gets tricked into thinking their crush was interested in them, and the crush was in on the joke? Yeah. Yeah. That fucking happened. I guess one of the best examples of “shit that happened that really fucked me up for life” Is.... Had a couple of, what I thought, were really good friends. Despite everything else that was bad I at least had them. We were a trio. It was amazing. I.... Was wrong. I got a message, on AIM one day from one of them. She said that the other one, my best friend, had committed suicide. And that her family didn’t want to talk to me. Don’t call them, never speak to them again, don’t go to the funeral..... I was crying. And called another friend of mine because I 100% didn’t know what to do. Was it real? Was it a joke that I somehow was misinterpreting? She told me to keep her updated; and that if I wanted to join her and her family at the mall I was more than welcome to. Mom comes home, sees that I’m crying. I tell her very quickly to keep her from getting angry. She thought I was lying at first for attention or some stupid shit until I showed her the chat log. She calls up the mom of my best friend and not only was it not true..... They were hanging out with each other at the other girl’s house. To this day, I have NO fucking clue if my best friend (at the time) was in on it or if it was done without her knowing. Either way, ANGRY MOM’S ALL AROUND, and my mom still questioned why I thought it was real cause hurr hurr I’m supposed to be smart. But also, I had already attempted suicide twice so OF. FUCKING. COURSE. I didn’t question the possibility. Anyways. I learned a big lesson about my worth that day, from people whom I was closest with. The people who would shout “WE LOVE YOU~!” From the bus window. They remained friends with each other. But not with me. The girl never spoke to me again and my BF quickly made it apparent that I was, and always had been an annoyance in her life. I was weird, stupid, whiney, 14-year-old acting like a 10-year-old, the list goes on. Could I have been a better friend? In some ways, yeah, maybe? Who knows. I don’t know. And then Highschool massively tanked after that. I failed assignments more than I passed them if it wasn’t for the creative projects and extra credit I would have completely flunked out. POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNING for the next few lines paragraphs, I’m not going into too much detail but I just want to give a fair warning. Three male friends: Two online and one I knew in person cause he was a friend of a friend. All three of them were older, I was a minor and theeey...were not. One had just turned 18, one was 20, and I honestly don’t know how old the other guy was. O_o which is weird because I ended up being friends with him for years and I uh. Somehow never got his age. PROBABLY FOR THE BEST. :T The two online guys roped me into erp, knowing my age. Their reasoning? One of them told me I needed to learn to grow up, and how to be an adult. And that, also, as an artist, I needed to start drawing porn because otherwise, I’d never be good. He’d frequently send me NSFW art and shit and try to get me to find out what I liked, and yeah we all know what else he was doing. The other one? I don’t remember much but what I can remember strikes me as more subtle grooming than just rolling in with “WELL YER IN HIGH SCHOOL TIME TO GROW UP EVERYONE’S DOING THIS.” I HAD to deliver otherwise I was a shitty person, a disappointment. And then the guy I knew in person would frequently make sexual comments about me, either to my face or to our mutual friend (Which pissed her off cause she had a crush on him, she was only a year older than me). All of this was done under the guise of... We’re friends! We love and care about you! We’re doing/saying this because we want you to be happy! You’re such a nice person! You’re so pretty when you smile! “I’m just trying to get you out of your shell.” “It’s better to find out what you like now with a friend who cares.” So on, and so forth. Trigger warning over...ish?” There’s obviously a lot, and I mean a LOT of stuff I’m not saying. And before you yell THERAPY. Yeah, I’ve been. Yeeeeaaaah therapists never wanted to talk about any of this. I’d bring it up and they’d shut it down as “Unimportant” They’d open up trauma I’d forgotten about, realized they didn’t get paid enough to deal with my bullshit, and focus on other really random shit. BUT WHAT. I’m getting at is. Despite all this, I never got into drugs, or drinking, didn’t become a teenage parent, haven’t been arrested. It’s something I’m still processing and accepting. But like. Looking back on everything as a whole, for the most part, I just. Everything that I went through SHOULD have turned me into an awful person, I mean. A lot of people would say that I am and I wouldn’t argue it BUT. Like. The damage is there, the damage is done. Some of this might never heal or might take several more years to heal I honestly don’t know. I don’t understand how I am not. An awful person. Self-deprecating trash jokes aside. I was only good when I kept quiet. I was only good when I followed their directions. I was only loved when they needed something. I was only a good person with their approval, and I’d do anything to get it. I’d sacrifice my belongings, my food, my time, my energy, I’d run to the defense of shitty friends and to the people who’d physically and emotionally hurt me. I feel guilty for outing them even though they’re not here, will never see this, and I didn’t even name names or give details that would give me away. This stuff isn’t resigned to highschool, I’ve been through a LOT of shit since then but that’s a post for a different day. There was a time where I had started to feel proud that despite everything I didn’t fall into a hole of drug and alcohol addiction and who knows what else. And I got shot down. I got shot down SO HARD. I was a bully for being proud of that. I was a terrible person for recognizing my own strength. I was told I was actually weak, a coward, that I don’t know what true suffering is. And I am still frequently told that I need to start doing MJ or other drugs to “Finally loosen up and be cool.” hnngph. THERE’S STILL A lot more to unpack but I don’t really feel like it right now. But I can’t process being a good person. I can’t hear “I love you!” and not get scared that everything is going to happen again and that I won’t be strong enough, that I’ll prove to all my classmates and family once and for all that I’m the horrible, shitty monster they’re all waiting and expecting me to be. People say I’m a good person, and then I also frequently get lectured on how I need to toughen up and stop whining or get over myself or whatever. So I’m not...good..I can’t be good? I’m too selfish, weak and vain to be a good person. I should have known better, I should have been stronger, and I shouldn’t have given in to wanting to be validated, and loved. AND SO MANY PEOPLE HAVE IT worse than me I have no business thinking I’m a good person or strong or whatever. Absolutely none. I feel so manipulative for even saying any of this. Hnnpgh.

#ooc #long post #mun ramblings #FUCK this got long again I'm sorry

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its-rockin-pete · 5 years

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Thank You for Your Candor

Notes and Description

I feel like Peter didn't really have much of a history or backstory, so I decided to play around and make one up. I know that in the books, his father dies a different way, but I figured that since pretty much nothing I was writing was canon, I was allowed to change things up. I also didn't know his parent's names, I made them up. Anyway, I'd love feedback and thoughts!

There are four chapters, so i’m gonna post the first two today and the other two tomorrow!

(Please keep in mind that I haven't gotten around to reading the books yet, I simply did my research online as well as based things off of the movies, so if I got any details wrong, I apologize! I think I did a pretty good job, but hey, I could be wrong.)

Chapter 1

Transfer

“You can’t stay here. I don’t care what your result was, you cannot stay here.”

Even though I knew what my mother had just said was true, I mean, how could I not be upset?

“Are you kidding? No, you know what, you’re right. I can’t stay here. Not with you constantly breathing down my back and bitching at me for no reason.”

I could really tell that I had just struck a nerve.

“Do you need to leave right now?”

I immediately got quiet. The fact that my mom seemingly wouldn’t care if I left the day before the ceremony hurt like a bitch.

“Peter Hayes, I don’t know what the hell happened, but the older you got, I began to realize that I raised a selfish, narcissistic, liar. A liar. You don’t belong here. I mean- You’re constantly getting into random fights, and you talk to me like I didn’t birth you and spend sixteen years of my life raising you. You got everything you ever wanted and needed growing up. I spoiled you and I tried my best to be a good mother, but according to you, I’ve failed.”

She’s never said things like this before- hearing her tell me how she honestly felt about me almost made me feel sick. I really didn’t know what to say. I wanted to apologize, but something inside of me made it impossible.

“Fine. Well, you’ll be happy to know that you won’t have to see my face again after tomorrow. Thanks for your honesty.”

I threw my jacket onto a kitchen chair and walked out of my own house like I was an unwelcome stranger. As I was on my way out, I heard my mom trying to apologize, but I quite frankly didn’t wanna hear it. There was no taking back what she said.

I hate to admit that she was right.

I wasn’t sure where I was going, but at the same time, I didn’t care. Nobody else cared, so why the hell should I? After about fifteen minutes of aimlessly walking around town though, I finally decided on a location. Headquarters.

Chapter 2

Big Small Talk

The doors were locked as expected, so I pulled out my pocket knife and got to work. It felt wrong, but it's not like I was planning on stealing anything. Unless of course, I changed my mind when I got inside. There's not much to steal anyway, just some files that nobody really cares about, books, and yeah, there are weapons stored on a few floors, but pretty much every faction has guns. Imagine all the cool shit you could steal from Erudite headquarters though- they're loaded with all sorts of serums and technology. Erudite has always been seen as a pretty shady faction though; but I mean, all the more reason to consider transferring, right? Might as well get some excitement out of life. I can't fucking stand Abnegation, so there would be no way in hell I’d step foot there, and Amity definitely isn't for me. All that love and happiness bullshi-

“Come on, damn it!”

As I was thinking, I was doing a horrible job at maneuvering my pocket knife between the latch of the two doors due to my lack of focus.

"Need some help?"

I quickly pulled my knife from between the two doors and turned around to see who my witness was.

It was Molly.

"What are you doing out here?"

She pulled out her ID card and swiped it in front of the scanner. "I was out on my porch smoking a cigarette and saw you headed this way." She pulled the door open and held it for me- "So I follow you. You're always up to no good…" she shook her head and playfully smirked, “Why are you here?”

She followed me inside as I began to look around, observing little details that I might not have before, like the way the light reflected off of the marble floors, or how high the ceilings actually were. Stupid stuff like that.

“I dunno. ‘Figured it couldn’t hurt to say goodbye.”

“You’re leaving?” She sounded surprised for some reason.

“You’re not?”

She followed me as I continued to look around, picking up a book and skimming a few pages.

“Of course I’m leaving… My folks gave me some long speech about how I should follow who I really am, which is so unlike them, but I guess parents just know when it comes to these things…”

I put the book back and continued walking- “I guess so.”

“How’s your mom handling all of this?”

“Really well actually.”

She looked at me and raised her eyebrows, pausing before speaking again. She was probably trying to figure out if I was bullshitting or not.

“Really? I would’ve thought that she’d be losing her ever-loving mind begging you to transfer.”

I smirked and tilted my head to look at her, “Me too. She really hasn’t even said much about the ceremony. She didn’t even ask about my aptitude test. All she said was that she wanted me to be happy.”

Lying as always. I feel like I was just trying to convince myself that that's what really happened.

“Huh… Sounds sus to me… You sure she’s not hiding anything from you?”

I paused having no idea where a thought like that would even come from. “...Like what?”

“I don’t know… Maybe she wants you to leave so you don’t dig up any dirt on her. Maybe she’s purposely giving you some slack to make you wanna transfer.”

I became suspicious of her little theory; it was a bit too specific for my liking.

“What are you talking about?”

She hesitated for a minute before saying anything else. The silence of the room made things even more tense.

“Don’t you think your father’s death seemed a little- strange? Nobody just ‘goes missing’ and turns up dead like that...”

I immediately turned to look at her head-on. “What?”

“N-nothing… Nevermind, I was just thinking-”

“Thinking what, that my mother is responsible for my father’s death? Are you kidding me? My mother is a lot of things, but she’s not a murderer.”

She looked at me with that stupid “I know you’re pissed, but I’m not backing down” face, but stayed silent.

“You know what? That's your problem, Molly, you're always sticking your nose into other people’s business. I don’t understand why it's so hard for you to just worry about your own problems and keep your stupid mouth shut.”

She gawked at me and scoffed- “You’re one to talk, you just never know when to stop! It’s not my fault that everyone but you knows that your crazy mom took a knife to your daddy’s chest.”

I instantly lost control of my temper and lunged at her, gripping the collar of her jacket in my fists and slamming her against a pillar.

“Say it again, I fucking dare you.”

She stared back at me showing no signs of fear- it honestly only pissed me off more.

“Can’t handle the truth, Hayes? You’re Candor-born, it should be in your blood, you fucking coward.” She elbowed me in the chest and I let go of her. I didn’t know what to think at this point. I didn’t know what to do. I just stared at the ground and listened to her footsteps against the marble floor as they became more distant.

“See you tomorrow, Big Man. Choose wisely.”

I watched her leave and not even bother to look back. She brought up my dad, called me a coward, and my mother a murderer, and didn’t even glance at me as she left. What a friend… I can't believe I used to have feelings for that.

I looked around and really started to think about what had just happened. What if Molly was right? I never really did get a true explanation for my father’s death. I was only eight when he died and I was simply told that he went missing, but when I got older, my mother explained to me that they found his body far outside of Candor territory. She called it a suicide.

My father, although he was mostly distant and cold, never seemed like the type of man who would just off himself like that. He was a powerful, brave, courageous, and loud personality. He was actually one of the big names in our faction. He kind of held things together alongside Jack- although, Jack had much more power than my father.

I stood there and continued to think, and suddenly I got an idea. A horrible, brilliant idea.

#divergent #divergent series #peter hayes #peter divergent #candor #divergent fanfiction #amity #abnegation #dauntless #erudite #choosing ceremony #tobias eaton #tris prior #eric divergent

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yasminsqueendom · 5 years

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Antique the Vamp Geek Pt1 Ep9

CW: Lots of anxiety and anger

A/N: Sis is stressed

W/C: 955

Hey y’all! So y’all been telling me that I’ve been too serious lately. You miss when I would be on my bullshit. So let me hit you with the bullshit:

I got approved for a program at community that includes online classes and night classes. But, I haven't officially accepted because of the whole family thing.

Technically, I will still be a full time student at my current school until the end of the semester. But since I won't be continuing full time beyond this school year…..

I would be considered a part time student and a non resident because I don't live on campus which disqualifies the need for me to disclose my status to my school EEEOOOOOWW. And community doesn't require a status update.

Downfall, I lose quite a bit of scholarship money, and this is going to take me longer.

Upside, I'm not really taking a step back, just kinda at a stand still. But eventually I will start moving forward again.

So….since we got that out of the way…..I get a lot of messages. I mean a LOT of them. And I can't read them all, but I read what I can.

And I see what you're doing you sneaky son of a bitch!

YOU THOUGHT!

You fucking thought I wouldn't catch you sliding in my dms after everything you put me through.

Oh yeah….I'm talking to you! The rat bastard that turned me. Bitch ass nigga.

So you like sending cryptic little emails about how you didn't appreciate me telling your M.O.

Well maybe if your filthy ass stopped preying on drunk girls in collegetown bars you wouldn't get put on blast!

Talmbout “that gold sequined dress fit nice on you that night. You should wear it again.”

DON'T BE SENDING ME NO SHIT LIKE THAT. I WILL FUCK YOU UP. N I K K A!

I told y'all. I'm on my bullshit.

And yes. The raggedy nigga that bit me has been sending me random ass emails about specific details about that night. Threatening to “expose” some shit.

NIGGA I AM DYING BECAUSE OF YOUR RAGGEDY ASS AND YOU HAVE THE AUDACITY TO DEMAND I DISCONTINUE SPREADING MY GOOD WORD TO HELP PEOPLE THAT HAVE BEEN PREYED ON BY PEOPLE LIKE YOU.

Oh you DUMB dumb. Nigga don't play with me. It was one night all of 10 mins. You don't know shit about me. The holy hands of ancestral strength will snatch you by your fucking collar. Fuck outta here. Ashy ass.

Which brings me to another point….

I know college life because I live that shit.

Start watching your fucking surroundings. Self awareness and situational awareness will be the keys to your SURVIVAL.

If your environment is too quiet all of a sudden, or too loud perk those ears and eyes up. Use all your senses. Are there any strange smells? Keep your hands over your drinks. DO NOT TRUST ANYONE WITH YOUR DRINK. NO, NOT EVEN YOUR BEST FRIEND. THAT BITCH WON'T BE PAYING ATTENTION IF SHE DRUNK TOO. She WILL look away if a fine dude come up.

Anyway, I'm off my soap box.

So, yeah. I get any number of weird ass fetish emails, threats, the usual. But, I'm thinking of just creating a page for you to post your questions. I'll be answering them there and y'all can enjoy that there.

Hmm…..any other updates?

Oh yes. There has definitely been some outreach from more experienced vamps coming out and trying to help some of us. They seem to be a little picky about what they release, but that's something I guess.

Also, our safety is important to me, so I wanted to give you guys a few heads up on some things I heard.

There is a number that has been calling people and demanding that if they don’t come to their local precinct and submit for status testing immediately, they will be arrested and fined. THIS IS NOT TRUE. It is not a requirement to disclose your status with the exception of private institutions like schools, medical centers, and some businesses.

For example, your local supermarket can’t demand a blood test, and neither can your papi store. Your children’s school, and colleges and universities can. Hospitals require testing (on the basis that you are highly contagious). Now listen closely to this: Simply being arrested doesn’t automatically mean that are required to submit to blood testing. That is only required if you are going to be put in prison.

It is extremely important that you know your rights. They are looking for any excuse. And this is for my black baby vamps specifically: Show no fear in the face of their hate. Even the ones that claim they do it out of “love.”

I don’t wanna be on my soap box too long. I just really hope that everyone is alright. People have been sending me some disturbing messages about attacks. Assholes have been ripping Muslim garb off of women in broad daylight to see if they burn. Some have even been setting up fake online chats/groupe/pages trying to lure naive vamps into revealing info about themselves, and then reporting them.

Essentially, I just wanna say to be careful y’all. Don’t give out any more info than is strictly necessary. Don’t reveal your exact location. Don’t even add your phone number to your social media profiles. Don’t even put your picture up if you are not out as a vamp. Stay aware of your surroundings. There are real threats and dangers out here. Keep your head up.

Anyway, that’s all I have for you today.

Stay moisturized and hydrated!

Love Tique.

#black vamps #black women in fiction #black fiction #black fic #black women #vampire #vamps #vampires

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branlovestowrite · 5 years

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Reunited: A Stucky Story

I recently fell down the Stucky wormhole after @dracosollicitus started posting her Stucky WIP What’s Left of Kisses (side note, go read that when you’re done here). I’ve read a lot of Stucky stories in the past two months, but I couldn’t find one that had them reuniting in a modern-day, non superhero setting. After a while I decided I should write it myself. I added in Shuri/Bucky BroTP because I LOVE them as besties, as well as a little Jessica Jones/Bucky Barnes friendship because I love JJ and want her in all the Marvel stories. And of course, the women of Marvel ship Stucky and take measures to throw them together. This is my first Stucky story, and, if it’s a ship you’re into, I hope you’ll like what I’ve come up with.

Title: Reunited

Rating: T for mild language and brief mentions of sex

Summary: Bucky Barnes never thought he’d see his childhood best friend, and source of his first heartbreak, Steve Rogers ever again. He is thrown for a loop when Steve ends up working for one of his new clients. What happens now that these boys are together again? Can Bucky finally overcome his nerves and confess his true feelings to Steve?

Also on AO3

On a typical Wednesday morning, Bucky Barnes walked into work, completely unaware that by the end of the day, his life would change forever. That morning had seemed like a normal day in the office. The coffee was stale, the old donuts sat untouched and unmoved, and Shuri was teasing him just like she did every day. “Hey Bucky!” she yelled from across the room. “Yes?” He asked, the corners of his mouth twitching with amusement as he approached their shared workspace. Shuri’s brown eyes sparkled with mirth. “Peter and I are in an argument-” “More like a disagreement,” Peter interrupted, his head poking above the cube wall. “An argument,” Shuri continued “about what dating was like before cell phones. I figured you could help me settle it.” “Really?” Bucky raised his eyebrows in response. “I’m not that much older than you guys. I got my first cell phone in high school.” “But that was old tech,” Shuri clarified. “No dating apps; limited texting. What did you do when you had to… call… people?” She said the word ‘call’ as if it offended her. “I don’t know,” Bucky replied, “I just called them.” He dropped his messenger bag to the floor and sank into his desk chair. “What even is this argument about?” “I say people didn’t… have sex,” Peter explained, a flush rising up over his cheeks and ears. “I mean, that is, they didn’t have sex as soon. They waited longer. Since, you know, they weren’t sexting or sending-” he cut himself off as the remainder of his face turned the same shade as a tomato. Shuri gave an exasperated sigh. “Dick pics, Peter. The phrase is dick pics.”

Bucky groaned and hung his head, his chin length hair falling around his face. “You know, we are working…” “Anyway! I say that even if they couldn’t send dick pics, people still found ways to get nasty because people have always found ways to get nasty.” “What did I just walk in on?” Shuri’s brother, their boss and owner of the company, T’Challa walked up with a concerned look on his face. “Do I need to call Okoye?” “No, please, sir,” Peter fumbled. “Ha!” Shuri laughed. “Peter’s scared of HR!” “I’m not scared of HR; just Okoye. She can be so tough!” “Please make them stop,” Bucky pleaded, turning to T’Challa. Their boss only laughed in return. “If you find a way to make my sister stop, Barnes, you come let me know. I haven’t found one yet.” He walked on, continuing his morning lap of the office. After a minute, as Bucky was bringing up his email, Shuri pushed her chair over to his desk. “So, old man, what did you guys do?” Bucky stopped his perusal to reminisce. He remembered rushing home to get to his computer and see if Steve was online. They would chat for hours via AIM, unless one of them had to get off the computer so a parent could use the phone line. When they each got cell phones they would call each other at 9:00pm sharp, when minutes were unlimited, and talk until one or both of their phone batteries died. A flush grew on his cheeks as he remembered the not-so-innocent turn their conversations sometimes took. While he never did anything explicit with Steve, he thoroughly remembered some of the thoughts he’d had during those conversations; thoughts he’d been too afraid to express. And the things he did with other people, in an attempt to get Steve out of his head. “Shuri’s right.” He said, looking at Peter. Shuri smirked conspiratorially. “Oooo… Bucky got nasty!” “That’s all I’m saying,” Bucky replied, turning back to his screen. Bucky worked for Wakanda Tech, or WT as the employees called it, a startup taking the corporate communications world by storm. T’Challa inherited the company from his father, but most of their recent products came directly from Shuri’s designs. She was a wunderkind, with an innate understanding of technology that put people twice her age to shame. And somehow she managed to combine her technical ability with a personality that was warm and engaging. It was impossible not to like Shuri. Bucky considered himself lucky to have landed a position at WT. Most of the employees were in their early 20’s. He was a random outlier, having met Okoye, their director of HR, at a job fair for veterans. Okoye was not your typical HR rep. She had a strict no-bullshit policy and had no issue with calling out her employees when she felt they were in violation of that. But she was also fiercely loyal and dedicated to the success of WT, having grown up alongside T’Challa. Okoye had an eye for talent, and she saw something in Bucky, even if he didn’t really see it himself. He worked as a implementation manager, helping get new clients on the platform once they’d purchased a license. Bucky had an eye for organization, a direct result of his military training. His personal life might be a mess, but he knew how to get other people in order. Once Shuri and Peter settled their dispute, the office became quiet, although a hum of anticipation still hung in the air. Today was a very important day for WT. T’Challa had been in discussions with Tony Stark about bringing their product to Stark Inc. If they landed this contract, there would be a huge bonus for everyone. Negotiations were almost complete; Stark was coming by later to hopefully sign the final documents. Bucky couldn’t calm the anxiety that crept up his spine. He never liked brash, overcompensating men like Stark- or at least the way Stark was portrayed in the media. When he was younger, he’d stopped more than a few of those types from beating Steve to a pulp. He’d learned to live with them in the Army, being surrounded by meatheads who preened like peacocks to hide their insecurities. He’d had his fill of guys like that during his time in the service, and did his best to avoid them now. Unfortunately, there was only one other Implementation Manager at WT, Peter, and he was too green to take on the Stark job. Like it or not, Bucky would have to be in the room with Stark later that day, and he’d most likely also have to suck up to the man. His stomach roiled and he skipped lunch, hiding out at his desk while he nibbled on a few crackers.

The day kept moving like a freight train, and, before long, it was time. The quiet, efficient atmosphere of WT was turned on its ear when Tony Stark walked in. Bucky watched from the safety of his desk as Stark was greeted by T’Challa. “Mr. Stark,” the always professional entrepreneur began as he shook Stark’s hand. “No no,” his guest interrupted, “if we’re gonna work together, you gotta call me Tony.” The man spoke his words in a rapid clip, as if he didn’t have time to breathe properly between syllables. “Very well, Tony: welcome to Wakanda Tech.” T’Challa gestured proudly around the office. “Small operation you got here, huh?” “We believe in a flat organization structure, to maximize efficiency.” “Great use of buzzwords there, pal,” Stark replied, placing his hand on T’Challa’s shoulder. Shuri chose that moment to stand from her desk and extend her own hand to Bucky. “Shall we go in?” “Do I have to?” Bucky whined petulantly. “Yes!” she scolded, looking much older than her 22 years. “Get off your ass and come with me.” Bucky straightened up and grabbed his tablet, standing to follow the younger woman. They headed to the conference room and made it inside just before Stark and his entourage entered. “This must be Shuri!” Stark exclaimed, greeting the lady on question with a hug. Shuri halfheartedly returned the gesture before pulling away with a smile. “It is good to meet you, Mr. Stark.” “I already had this conversation with your brother. Call me Tony.” Shuri smiled politely in response and then turned to Bucky. “This is James Barnes. He is the Implementation Manager that will be working on your account.” “Jamie!” Tony said, patting the other man on the shoulder. “Tony,” Bucky returned with a bemused smirk. “Finally someone who gets it,” Tony said with a smile. He turned to the people surrounding him. “Allow me to introduce Pepper Potts, my right hand and the only reason I have any success in this world.” A tall, willowy redhead nodded her head toward Bucky and Shuri. “And this is Rhodey, my other right hand and best friend in the world.” The man in question smiled tensely at the group. “And finally, this is-” “Steve,” Bucky said in awe, looking up at the last member of Stark’s party. “Steve Rogers, from my legal team,” Tony filled in, a little deflated. “I’m sorry,” he said, pointing between them, “do you two know each other?”

“Bucky and I go way back,” Steve said, his smile still as devastating as ever. He flashed his blue eyes at Bucky, and the other man felt himself get weak in the knees. “Bucky?” Tony asked with a smirk. Bucky grimaced. “My full name is James Buchanan Barnes… but my friends call me Bucky.” “Splendid!” Tony said. “You didn’t tell me you knew someone who worked here, Rogers.” “I didn’t know I had a connection,” Steve replied warmly, still looking at Bucky. “It’s been a while since we talked.” Bucky gave Steve a shy smile. “A lot has happened since we last saw each other.” They stood like that, staring awkwardly at one another while butterflies danced in Bucky’s stomach. Finally, T’Challa intervened. “Shall we get started?” he asked as he gestured toward the table. Bucky wasn’t sure how he made it through that meeting in one piece, but, in spite of the awkwardness he felt, the meeting was a success. Stark seemed keener to sign the contract knowing there was a personal relationship between a member of his staff and someone at WT. As soon as the meeting adjourned Steve pulled Bucky aside.

“You look good, Buck.” “Thanks,” Bucky said, refusing to meet the other man’s eyes. Steve had changed so much since he’d last seen him, He was at least a good foot taller, with much broader shoulders. Bucky had to actively try not to drool. “You do too, but… I thought you were smaller.” Steve chuckled and scratched the back of his neck. “I had a growth spurt right after I moved away.” “You look… really good,” Bucky said. He took in Steve’s chest and thick arms that filled out his jacket just right. His mind wandered to the last time those arms had been wrapped around him in a hug, when Steve was thinner and shorter. He couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel now to have them wrap around his body; to get lost in that strong embrace. “Bucky?” Steve asked, meeting the other man’s eye. “Huh? Yeah?” Bucky came back to himself with a jolt, cursing his train of thought. “You wanna get a drink later? Catch up?” “Yeah,” Bucky replied as a brilliant smile bloomed across Steve’s face. “Yeah, I’d like that.” Steve gave Bucky his card, adding his personal cell number and making Bucky promise to call him. Then he had to go, and Bucky was left standing there, feeling dumbstruck. He heaved a sigh the moment the room was clear. He was so, so screwed. ~/~ “What the hell was that?” Shuri asked the moment he got back to desk. “What are you talking about?” “Um… how about the way you eye-fucked Stark’s lawyer the entire time? Although it seems to have worked in our favor. We should pimp you out more.”

“I did not ‘eye-fuck’ anyone,” Bucky protested. “Steve’s just an old friend.” “Right… ‘friend.’ You know, it’s 2019. You don’t have to use euphemisms anymore.” “I’m not covering anything! I’ve never tried to hide my sexuality. But Steve was never like that. We grew up together.” “From the way you were looking at him, it seems like homeboy ‘glowed up.’ You gonna go for it?” “Nah. Steve’s not into guys. He’s a heterosexual, all-American boy,” Bucky replied, unable to hide the tinge of sadness in his voice. “You might want to reconsider that opinion,” Shuri replied. “What makes you say that?” “Because he spent the entire meeting looking at you the same way you were looking at him.”

This new information distracted Bucky for the rest of the day, and he had trouble focusing on even the most basic of tasks. Finally, at 4:55, he decided he couldn’t do anything else, and began to pack up. As he flipped through his portfolio, the business card Steve had pressed into his hand fluttered to the ground. Before he could retrieve it, Shuri scooped it up.

“Steve Rogers gave you his card, did he? And he wrote his personal number on there?”

“Yeah… he mentioned going to get a drink.”

“So call him!”

“Yeah… I will. Just… I need some time. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Steve. A lot’s changed. I’m not the same kid I was in high school.”

Shuri’s gaze softened and she placed a gentle hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “I think the issue is actually that you’re a lot more like that kid than you realized, and seeing an old friend brought it all back.”

Bucky huffed a sigh and gave her a wry smile. “As usual, you prove how much smarter you are than me.”

“You heading out. Bucky?” Peter asked, poking his head over the cube wall once more.

“Yeah Pete. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Actually, would you be free to head over to Nick’s with me? I wanted to ask your advice about something.” His gaze shifted to Shuri and he gave a scowl “ Away from interfering parties.”

Bucky laughed. “Alright Pete, yeah. Let’s do it.”

~/~

Steve Rogers was an adult. He’d graduated early from Harvard Law and landed a lucrative position at Stark Inc. before he’d turned 25. So influential was he in that role that he’s ended up becoming one of the principal members of the legal team at the company 18 months later. Steve was on lists like “30 under 30” and he didn’t like to brag, but he was considered in some circles to be a ‘big deal’. So why did he currently feel like a nervous teenager waiting by the phone?

He’d tried to play it off, but seeing Bucky earlier that day had thrown him. Bucky had been his best friend for the majority of his young life. He brought school work when Steve was sick and sat by his bed, helping to keep him entertained. As they got older, he’d helped protect Steve when he got into fights he couldn’t finish. He’d been there in good and bad times. Losing Bucky in his life was a blow Steve had never really recovered from.

After the meeting, he’d wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of the day catching up with his friend, but there was too much to do. He cursed himself for not getting a commitment to meet the other man somewhere later on. Leaving the planning up to Bucky filled him with anxiety. Steve did not like to wait. He was not a waiter. He was a doer.

At five-o'clock his phone finally rang, the caller an unknown number. He felt his heart pounding in his chest as he pressed the ‘accept’ button.

“Bucky?”

The voice on the other end of the line gave a dry laugh. It was definitely female, so not Bucky. “No, this is Shuri.”

It took a moment for his brain to catch up with the name. “Oh, yes, from WT, right?” It was a bit strange that she was calling his personal line, but he wasn’t going to be rude. “How can I help you?”

“This isn’t business related, Mr. Rogers.”

“Please, call me Steve.”

“Yes, Steve,” she replied. “I thought you might want to know where Bucky Barnes is heading for an after work drink.”

“Oh, well if he wants me to join him, I’m sure he’ll call me and give me the place.” He pulled his phone away from his head to look at the screen, silently hoping there would be another incoming call.

“No, Steve, I don’t believe he will. I have worked with Sergeant Barnes for two years, and I know when he is vacillating. This is one of those times. He needs a nudge in the right direction.”

“I don’t know if that’s really-”

“Trust me Mr. Rogers, he would not call you of his own accord.”

This felt wrong to Steve, a violation of his old friend’s privacy. “I mean, if he doesn’t want to call me, he doesn’t have to. I’m not going to force him if he doesn’t want to.”

“No, he wants to. Of that I am sure.”

“What’s your aim here?” Steve asked, his tone changing as his suspicion rose. He didn’t want to insult the young woman, but he was starting to wonder why she was so invested in telling him where Bucky was going to be.

“I don’t mean any harm. I only wish to see my friend Bucky happy, and I know he’ll talk himself out of calling you if left to his own devices.”

Steve sighed as he took in her words. He wanted to believe that Bucky was more confident than that, but the last time he’d been in contact with his friend, he’d had the same impression. “Tell me.”

She gave him the name and address of the bar where Bucky was heading.

“Are you sure he’s gonna be there? Maybe he’s just going home?”

“He’ll be there. Our coworker Peter is going with him to make sure.”

“Is everyone at WT in on this?”

He could practically hear her smile on the other end of the line. “Just get there, Mr. Rogers. As soon as you can.”

~/~

Seeing Steve earlier in the day brought back a flood of memories for Bucky. Steve had been his best friend for his entire childhood, all the way through to the summer before their junior year of high school. He and Steve did everything together. They grew up alongside one another and had been closer in many ways than Bucky was to his own flesh-and-blood sibling.

But Steve was more than just a brother. He’d been Bucky’s first love. At the same time that he was just starting to realize his sexuality, he simultaneously realized that he was head-over-heels for Steven Grant Rogers.

When they were younger, Steve had been overlooked by nearly everyone. He was the smallest kid in class and had a slew of health problems that were the likely culprit for his stunted growth. Most prominent was his asthma, followed closely by a spinal curvature that led to him wearing a back brace for a few years. He had poor eyesight with color blindedness, which he wore thick glasses to help correct. And he had a weak immune system that caused him to get sick, and therefore miss school, all the time.

None of the other kids wanted to play with Steve. They were irritated with his inability to keep up when they ran. Or how he would break into a coughing fit in the middle of a dare, freaking everyone out with the fear that one of their cohorts might actually die from one of their stupid stunts.

Bucky was the opposite of Steve. Rambunctious and outgoing, he’d been friends with nearly everyone. He always had kids asking him to play. But Bucky only ever wanted to hang out with Steve.

He couldn’t remember the exact moment he’d first felt drawn to Steve. Bucky had known the other boy since the first grade, but they weren’t in the same class until the third grade. Because they lived in the same building, Bucky would often bring homework for Steve to do when he was out sick. At first, Steve’s mom had just expected Bucky to leave the work and run off, as other children must have done, but Bucky was precocious little fuck.

“How’s Stevie doin’ Mrs. Rogers?”

“Oh,” she’d replied, genuinely surprised at his question. “He’s getting better. He’s in his room, but he’s up and reading.”

“Can I go say hi to him?”

“Sure. Let me just poke my head in and let him know you’re here.”

Steve had seemed just as surprised at Bucky’s appearance as his mother, but welcomed the company.

“Whatcha readin’?” Bucky asked, pointing to the comic book in Steve’s lap.

“Oh, um… X-Men.”

“Killer! I like X-Men too! Who’s your favorite? I like Wolverine.”

Steve smiled at Bucky then, a real, genuine smile, and launched into a diatribe about how his favorite was Professor Xavier because even though he was in a wheelchair, he was one of the most powerful of the X-Men, but he still used his power for good, taking in young mutants and helping to guide them.

From that day forward, Steve and Bucky spent almost every afternoon together, talking about comics, movies (they once had a very heated debate about which trilogy had the superior Harrison Ford performance: Star Wars or Indiana Jones), and, when they were older, girls.

One afternoon, when they were 12 and sitting in Steve’s room, the blond turned to his friend and very innocently asked “You ever kissed a girl, Buck?”

“Yep,” Bucky replied nonchalantly, only half listening while he flipped through a comic book.

“What?! No way! When did this happen? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Bucky looked up at his friend and cringed. “It’s not my proudest moment.”

“When was it?”

“At Sharon Carter’s last birthday party. She wanted to play ‘spin-the-bottle.’”

Steve got a dreamy look at the mention of Sharon’s name. It was hardly a secret that he had a thing for the girl. She was kind to Steve, but had no inclination toward him. Steve had actually been invited to that party, but hadn’t been able to go because he was recovering from a wicked bout of bronchitis.

He looked back to Bucky with a goofy smile. “Who’d you kiss?”

Bucky’s face went red at that.

“Who was it?”

Bucky bit his lip for a moment, deliberating what to say, before finally deciding on the truth. He never usually kept secrets from Steve, and this one had been eating him alive. “I kissed Sharon.” He watched in horror as his friend’s face fell. “I’m sorry man!” Bucky continued. “I know you like her, and I didn’t want to, but the bottle landed on me when she spun it, and it was her birthday party, and I didn’t want to reject her in front of everyone.” He huffed a breath as he paused.

Steve, being Steve, gave him a gentle smile. “It’s okay, I get it.” His smile broadened into a grin. “How was it?”

“Kind of embarrassing,” Bucky admitted with a groan. “We went into a closet, and I was so nervous that I just barely gave her a peck. I couldn’t touch her because my hands were so sweaty. I didn’t want to gross her out.”

“Well maybe there’s hope for me yet.”

“As long as you can kiss better than I did.”

“Doubtful,” Steve snorted. “At least you’ve kissed someone once. I’ve never kissed anyone.”

Bucky got a wild idea then, and didn’t have the good sense to censor himself before blurting it out. “Wanna practice on me?”

“What?” Steve’s face was a mixture of shock and confusion.

“I mean, we’re buds, right? Let’s just practice with each other. Make us more ready when the next time comes.”

“Um… okay.”

Although his first kiss was technically with Sharon, Bucky always considered his kiss with Steve to be his first true kiss. It ignited feelings in him that he didn’t quite understand. He had a hard time looking at Steve the same, once he knew how soft the other boy’s lips were.

Steve eventually did get to kiss Sharon. Despite her initial reluctance, she decided to give Steve a chance and they even went steady for a few weeks in the eighth grade. But beyond that, Steve never had much luck with girls.

He remained smaller than all the other guys in their class, and ended up being the target of more than a few bullies. But Steve was scrappy. Although he was small, he could take a hit, and refused to run or stand down when confronted. Bucky always teetered on the fine line between when to let Steve stand up for himself and when to intervene to make sure Steve didn’t get seriously injured.

Bucky continued to hang out with Steve, even as he was taunted for it by the more popular kids in high school. He didn’t really care what anyone else said. Steve was his best friend.

One night during freshman year, when they were talking on the phone, Steve was whining to Bucky about how he would never have a shot with another girl in his life.

“You’re great, Stevie,” Bucky’d said, more than a little annoyed with the situation. “The right girl will come along eventually. She’ll see all the good in you and not worry about the other stuff.”

“I wish I could find a girl just like you, Bucky.”

That caused a lump to stick in Bucky’s throat. He’d decided to never tell Steve how he felt, knowing that Steve didn’t reciprocate his feelings. Bucky was terrified of destroying their friendship. He swallowed thickly before replying. “You do?”

“Yeah. You’re my best friend, Buck, and you always see the best in me. I’m so glad I have you.”

“I’m glad to have you too,” Bucky choked out in response. He’d almost decided to confess his feelings then, but Steve sighed and changed the subject before he had a chance.

“What about you, huh? I heard Lori’s got a thing for ya’.”

“Well, um… I think I might be gay,” Bucky replied, in lieu of confessing. He had been deliberating for some time on how to share this with Steve. He knew Steve, and knew his friend would never reject him, but, nevertheless, he braced himself for a bad response.

“Oh yeah?” Steve simply replied, and Bucky was immensely relieved to hear the smile in his friend’s voice.

“Yeah,” he sighed in relief.

“Okay man, cool. You got your eye on anyone, or just been thinking this for a bit?”

“Just been thinkin’ it,” Bucky admitted, not quite ready to tell Steve that he only had eyes for his best friend.

That had been the extent of Bucky’s coming out for another year, before he finally confessed to his parents and friends. He ended up going on a couple dates, had a few kisses, but never dated anyone seriously until after Steve moved.

The summer before their junior year, just after Steve turned sixteen, a bomb dropped in his world. His father, who had left his mother heartbroken when he was just a baby, suddenly died. Steve was shocked to learn that his dad had left him a house and a sizable amount of money. The house was in Indiana, and he was contacted by the grandfather he never knew he had to come out for a visit.

That summer ended up being a turning point for Steve. He got into a medical trial that ended up helping him overcome several of his physical ailments. Sarah went out several times to visit her son, and ended up really liking the area. When the summer ended, Steve’s grandpa asked if they would consider moving there. The house was nice, and Sarah would be able to make more money as a nurse if she wasn’t paying rent. And Steve wanted to get to know his family. His only concern was leaving Bucky.

“Come on, man,” Bucky’d assured him. “We got lots of ways to stay in touch. You ain’t getting rid of me.”

So Steve had gone, and although he never said anything, Bucky’s heart broke that day.

At first, they’d stayed in touch much the same way they had during the summer, through email, phone calls, and instant messaging, but, as the school year progressed, they began to drift apart. Steve had new friends. Since he wasn’t sick all the time and missing out on everything, he had an easier time meeting people. It was a fresh start for Steve, and Bucky didn’t want to keep his friend from his new social circle.

So, instead, Bucky dealt with his heartbreak in self-destructive ways: drinking heavily, experimenting with drugs, and losing his virginity to a random encounter at a party. He had lots of sex during his last two years of high school, with boys and girls. The further Bucky fell down the rabbit hole, the less he would talk to Steve. In the end, he screwed his grades up so bad that he barely graduated and didn’t have any college offers or scholarships to speak of. Directionless, he’d opted to enlist in the Army.

Enlistment had been the final thing to sever his connection to Steve. They had separate lives, and Bucky just assumed there was no chance he’d ever run into the other man again.

~/~

Bucky sat in the bar, trying not to lose his shit on Peter. He really did like the younger man, but he could be a bit over eager at times, like a puppy. Today seemed to be one of those days.

Peter got up to head to the bathroom, and Bucky decided to approach the bartender and order something harder than the beer he’d been nursing. As he stood there, waiting for his drink, he heard a surly voice speak from behind him.

“Barnes.”

“Jones,” he replied, turning to face the newcomer. Bucky liked Jessica Jones, even if she was an acquired taste. She was a PI that he’d met in this very bar, when she’d caught him on a date with a cheating husband. Jessica didn’t want to blow her cover, but after she had the pictures, she pulled Bucky aside and clued him in. Bucky had no idea his date was married, and thanked God that he hadn’t slept with the man.

“What are you doing here?” Jessica asked, the hint of a smile playing across her face. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Yeah, I haven’t been going out much. It’s cheaper to drink at home and don’t have to wear pants.”

“Can’t argue with that logic.”

Bucky considered her for a moment. Her dark hair hung down past her shoulders, and she was dressed in her usual armor of a t-shirt, jeans, boots, and a leather jacket. But something was different. It could have been a trick of the light, but she seemed to have taken a little more care with her makeup. Her brown eyes looked bigger than usual thanks to her artful eyeliner. And she wore a dark lipstick that set off her creamy skin beautifully. “Something’s changed about you, Jones. What’s going on?”

She schooled her features and gave him a stern look before breaking out into a full-on grin. Bucky couldn’t stop his small gasp when she smiled. She was truly beautiful, but her usually sour disposition tended to put people off.

“Okay, who are you and what have you done with my friend Jessica?”

“Shut up,” she replied, shoving his shoulder. “I’m on a date.” She nodded her head to the table behind her, where a gorgeous man with tan skin, jet black hair, and a neatly trimmed beard sat, watching them with interest.

“Damn girl,” Bucky replied, looping her arm with his own. “Does he swing both ways? Cause if so, send him my way when you’re done with him.”

“Oh fuck off, Barnes,” she laughed, freeing her arm.

Bucky relaxed for the first time all day, forgetting his nerves about Steve in his excitement for his friend. “You look good, Jess. Happy.”

“Thanks.” She glanced at something just over Bucky’s shoulder. “Well, I just wanted to come say hi since I haven’t seen you in a while. I’m gonna go back to my date and let you get back to yours.”

“Oh, no, I’m not on a date, just here with Pete from work.”

“Yeah?” She leaned in close and whispered as quietly as she could in the din of the bar. “Then who’s the blond beefcake two stools down who keeps staring at you?”

Bucky turned his head suddenly to see Steve sitting there, wearing a smirk and looking positively delicious. He’d removed his jacket and unbuttoned the top three buttons of his shirt, exposing the hollow of his throat. Bucky bit back the sudden urge to trace the other man’s adam’s apple with his tongue. “Oh my God… that’s Steve. I didn’t call him. How’d he know I was here?”

“That’s Steve?” Jessica asked, and Bucky automatically hissed at her to keep her voice down. He had shared the story with her one night over drinks, and she knew all about the torch he carried. “Well, Mazel Tov and all that,” she said with a wink. “Let’s get coffee sometime and you can tell me how good he fucks. And um…” she leaned to the left slightly, presumedly to check Steve out, “maybe we could arrange a trade.”

“Fuck you Jones.”

Jessica had already turned away when she called over her shoulder “We tried that, remember?”

Despite his annoyance, Bucky managed one last smile while he flipped her the bird, before gathering his courage to turn around and face Steve.

~/~

Steve watched Bucky with interest as he turned away from the stunning brunette he’d been talking to. He couldn’t help but feel a little jealous of the ease between them. It was obvious they weren’t lovers, but they were friends, and Steve missed having Bucky as his friend.

Bucky downed the shot he’d ordered and left the glass on the bar as he sauntered over to Steve. That was really the only way Steve could describe his walk. He didn’t seem as confident as the Bucky Barnes of their childhood, but he sure as hell knew how to fake it.

“Either you’re stalking me or Peter slipped something in my beer and I blacked out, because I don’t remember calling you.” Steve felt his cheeks warm as Bucky spoke. He took a minute to process the words, realizing they were harsher than the tone Bucky used to convey them.

“Um, right… well, Shuri called me and let me know you’d be here, so I thought I’d stop by after work and see if you’d be up for that drink.” He hadn’t looked Bucky in the eyes yet. “I can go, if it’s making you uncomfortable.” He moved to grab his wallet and pay for his beer.

“No, Steve, wait,” Bucky said, with a chuckle. “I was fuckin’ with you. Don’t go. I’m glad you’re here.”

“Yeah?” Steve’s lips spread wide in a grin and he finally looked up to meet Bucky’s gaze. What he saw there was heart-stopping. Bucky always had the most beautiful eyes, their color a cool gray-blue that changed from icy to steel depending on his mood. Right now they were brilliant, even in the dim light of the bar. And they were complimented by an amazing smile.

“Yeah,” Bucky replied, not breaking eye contact.

They stood there for a few seconds, just drinking one another in, before the spell was broken by the approach of Bucky’s coworker.

“Hey Buck-” Peter began.

“Shit! Pete! I’m sorry man,” Bucky replied before Peter could finish his sentence. “I abandoned you. I just ran into a couple people, and-”

“Yeah, man, no problem,” Peter replied. “I was actually gonna say I gotta split. My buddy Ned called and he needs me to come over.” Bucky raised his eyebrows at that, but before he could say anything, Peter sputtered on. “I mean… not ‘needs me’ like that, needs me. Ned’s just a friend. I mean… not that I have any problem with dudes, but Ned’s got a girlfriend and I’m kind of into this girl we went to high school together, and-”

Bucky interrupted the younger man’s diatribe. “Pete, it’s okay. You didn’t say anything to offend me.”

“Phew, that’s a relief,” Peter said, literally wiping his hand across his brow as he said the word ‘phew.’ Steve’s nerdy heart went out to the younger man. He could definitely remember being just as awkward in his own youth.

Peter swiftly made his exit, and Bucky ordered a fresh beer, abandoning the one he’d had at the table he was sitting at with Peter. He settled onto the stool next to Steve.

“So, bigwig legal guy at Stark Inc. at 28, huh? How’d you manage that?

Steve blushed again and looked down at the bar top. “I met Tony in college, and he took over his Dad’s company just as I was finishing law school. He contacted me and asked me to interview for a job on their legal team. I wasn’t about to turn down an opportunity like that. After I got the job, Tony told me he needed to clean house and that he wanted someone with his ear to the ground in legal. I helped him catch some bad actors, and when their positions were vacated, Tony asked if I wanted to take one.”

“Damn, that’s quite the story.”

“Yeah, it’s kind of unbelievable, right? Little guy from Brooklyn like me ending up here.”

“Yeah…” Bucky trailed off as he took a swig of his beer. “I always believed that little guy would go places.”

“That means a lot coming from you, Buck.” Steve looked over at the other man, his eyes soft.

“I never stopped believing in you, Stevie,” he replied, his voice soft.

“So…” Steve said after a pause. “What about you? How’d you’d end up at WT?”

“I met Okoye, the head of their HR, at a VA job fair.”

“Yeah? I remembered you enlisted after graduation. How long did you serve?”

“Six years, three tours. I was planning to retire, but I got injured on my last tour and was medically discharged.”

“Shit… What happened?”

“IED. Not a very big one, but enough to do some serious damage to my left arm. I was a sniper, and I couldn’t keep doing that job if I couldn’t hold the gun steady.”

“Oh damn… I’m sorry to hear that man.”

Bucky looked at Steve for a second, his eyes watering and his upper lip quivering. Steve felt his heart speed up at the thought of his friend’s pain. He started to stand up to give the other man a hug when Bucky’s face broke into a huge grin.

“You always were so gullible Stevie.”

“You jerk!” Steve replied with a laugh as he settled back on his stool.

Bucky pretended to look hurt. “What? Me? I’m not the one laughing at a wounded veteran, ya’ punk!”

“Yeah. yeah, asshole.” Steve tilted his beer to take a swig, his eyes never leaving Bucky’s. When he placed the bottle back down on the bartop, his smile faded a little, becoming wistful. “I’ve missed you, Buck. What happened to us?”

“I’m an asshole who doesn’t deserve nice things, that’s what,” Bucky said, suddenly looking anywhere but at Steve.

~/~

“What the hell does that mean?” Steve asked, and Bucky felt his heart constrict a little more. Sweet Stevie, always caring so much about everyone else.

“Look… it was a long time ago. Let’s forget I said anything. Tell me more about you.”

“No, Buck. I don’t want to forget it. What did you mean? If anything, I’m the asshole in the situation since I left.”

“No, Steve, no.” Bucky suddenly felt panicked at the thought that Steve would ever blame himself. Without thinking, he grabbed Steve’s hand in his own. “You could never be an asshole. You have always been the kindest, most selfless person I know. You going to Indiana was a good thing, wasn’t it? Without that, you might never have gotten healthy, and I doubt you could have afforded law school if you and your mom stayed in Brooklyn.”

“Then why? Why did we lose touch? We were always so close. Even when I had nothing, I had you.”

Bucky cringed. Even after all these years, it physically pained him to keep anything from Steve. “It was all my fault. I became a mess those last two years of high school. I was a drugged out loser. I barely graduated. You didn’t need someone like me dragging you down.”

Steve’s face softened and he squeezed Bucky’s hand with his own. “You would never have dragged me down. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to help you. It sounds like you were really hurting back then.”

“I was trying to find something.”

“What was that?”

Bucky looked up at Steve then, his eyes a bright cornflower blue, expressing his earnestness. “You,” Bucky replied, unable to tear his gaze away. “I was trying to find you.”

“You knew where I was, Bucky. If you needed me, I would have come back in a heartbeat.”

“I didn’t want to tear you away from your new life. You finally had everything you ever wanted. How selfish would it have been if I’d asked you to come back because I was working through a little bit of depression?”

“But, other than my ma, no one has ever been more important to me that you. I would have done anything to help you.”

“Naw… you had a new life. I remember those pictures on Facebook. You had that cute little girlfriend. The blonde one, kinda looked like Sharon. What was her name?”

“Kate,” Steve said with a small grin. “I think the main reason I first talked to her was because she reminded me of Sharon.” Bucky made to pull his hand free, but Steve kept his grip strong. “But what did you mean when you said you were trying to find me?”

“I…” Bucky sighed deeply and looked at the floor. “I wanted to find someone to take your place in my life. So I wouldn’t feel so empty.”

“Did it work?”

“No. Every person I hooked up with just made me feel more alone, but I kept trying. I must have slept my way through half of the teenage population of Brooklyn, but no one could hold a candle to you.”

Steve suddenly got very still. “What do you mean, Bucky? We never hooked up.”

Shit , Bucky thought, there goes my big fuckin’ mouth gettin’ me in trouble again. He looked up to meet Steve’s eyes once more, his mouth gaping like a fish out of water..

“Bucky… did you… did you want to be with me?”

“I… uh…” fuckfuckfuck “Um… I mean…” He felt his face flushing crimson red. “Shit. I never meant to tell you that Stevie. I’m sorry. Fuck… Let me just.” He grabbed his wallet out of his pocket and threw down whatever cash he had on hand, praying it was enough to cover his drinks. He’d just humiliated himself in front of Steve. The last thing he needed was to also stick him with the bill.

Steve stared open-mouthed as Bucky turned and walked as fast as he could out of the bar, heading for the parking lot. He was unlocking his car door when he heard Steve calling out his name.

“I’m sorry Stevie. Please… let me go home and hide for a while. I can’t deal with this right now.” He realized he was babbling, but it was like a dam broke and he couldn’t stop. “We were just reconnecting and then I went and fucked it up. Damnit… I am so sorry Steve. Please can we just forget I said anything? It was a long time ago and-”

He was cut off abruptly when Steve surged forward and captured Bucky’s mouth with his own. Bucky was shocked momentarily before his reflexes kicked in and he kissed back, Steve’s lips just as soft as he remembered them. He moaned softly as Steve’s hand grazed up his neck and over his jawline. The kiss seemed to drag on forever, a heavenly meeting of plush lips and velvety tongues and light nips of teeth. Bucky felt himself swoon a little inside.

When they finally broke apart, their chests panting, Steve brought his other hand up to cup Bucky’s cheeks. “You still talk too fuckin’ much,” he growled, and Bucky laughed before leaning back in for another kiss.

“I didn’t think you liked guys,” Bucky said in awe when they separated once more.

“Bucky… I have been gone for you from the moment you kissed me when we were kids. I was just so afraid to tell you then and lose you as a friend.”

“You punk… we could have had so much more time together if you’d have just said something!” Bucky chuckled as he pulled Steve’s body closer to his own.

“If I’d have said something? You’re the chatterbox you jerk! You should have told me how you felt.”

“I didn’t want to lose your friendship either.”

“Shit… we gotta get better at communicating with each other if we’re gonna make things work this time around.”

“Why don’t we start practicing on Friday? Will you go out on a date with me, Stevie?”

“Yes,” Steve whispered before closing in on Bucky for another mind-blowing kiss.

~/~

The next morning, when Bucky walked into work, Shuri was standing in the middle of their shared workspace wearing a self-satisfied smirk. “Did you have a good night, Bucky?”

Bucky tried to look offended, he really did, but he’d spent the night having pleasant dreams of kissing Steve at an outside table of a restaurant by the waterside. He smiled at his coworker. “I did.” He shrugged off his backpack and sat at his computer.

“How is Steve?” She asked as she followed him. “Will you be seeing him again?”

“You really don’t do subtle, do you?”

“I don’t have time for such things. Do you have a date or not?”

“Yes,” he replied, unable to hide his grin.

Shuri squealed with delight and danced in place. “Bucky’s gonna get nasty!”

“Just don’t send him any dick pics,” Peter mumbled from the other side of the cube wall.

Bucky blushed in response and Shuri cackled. “It’s too late for that, Peter!” she called back. “Did he send you one back?”

“I’m not saying anything about that, Shuri.”

She chuckled and took her seat at her desk. “As a sign of your gratitude, I fully expect your first daughter to be named after me.”

“Well, I was planning to do that anyway,” Bucky said with a grin.

“Damn right you were.”

Bucky looked up at his monitor and began to peruse his email. A minute later a notification popped up on his phone with a text from Steve.

Can’t wait for tomorrow night.

Bucky was unable to hide his grin as he picked up his phone to send a response.

If you enjoyed this, I’d really love a like, reblog, or comment (or all three!). Thanks for reading!

#stucky #stucky fanfiction #stucky fanfic #Bucky Barnes #Steve Rogers #shuri #Shuri is awesome #Jessica Jones #Bumbling Peter Parker #Women of Marvel ship Stucky #branwrites

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armadil-lo · 5 years

Text

if when he sees me (2/6)

CHAPTER ONE: http://armadil-lo.tumblr.com/post/181213297051/if-when-he-sees-me-16

Chapter Summary: “It’s a dating app, Bakugou, and you just admitted I was right about you being bored and lonely. Are you saying you’re not getting to know him so you can go on a few dates and have a fun little summer fling?”

My Notes: if you're surprised at how quick this update came out, trust me, i am too. again though, no promises on when the next chapter will be, sorry :') this chapter was going to be longer, but i decided to split it instead because there were still like three scenes left and i'd prefer to keep the chapters similar in length i think heh. (oh and, the flowers i was thinking of in the scene towards the end are poinsettias - no idea when and where they typically live, but let's just pretend it's possible ^.^)

Words: 3195

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17038661/chapters/40373681

Zero Gravity Diner - open from 10AM to 10PM Monday to Friday, and an earlier closing time of 8PM on weekends - is an anomaly in the suburbs just outside the central city. It’s not in the shopping district for people to spend more money on between their retail purchases; it’s not in the middle of the business district for people to get coffee for their bosses or spend their lunch breaks; it’s nowhere near the university for stressed Yuuei students to study at or take a breather between classes. No, the Uraraka’s opened their small, cosy diner nestled between family houses on a street with little to no regular foot traffic.

The business obviously earns enough to keep the family afloat; now mostly run by Uraraka, who dropped out of Yuuei at the end of her first semester to help out when another waitress moved away, and her father, who is the head chef behind their tasty menu. Her mother has a job elsewhere in the city, but usually takes over closing up the restaurant from her daughter once she’s gotten home, eaten, and relaxed for an hour or so.

The majority of their customers hear about the place through word-of-mouth, or Kaminari’s instagram. There are a decent amount of regulars - elderly who come in for a cup of tea, young couples who stop in for breakfast while walking their dogs, and families with small children who come in for meals. If Katsuki had to guess, he’d say that all of their frequent customers probably just live nearby. But regardless, it would most certainly be safe to say that because of its location, Zero Gravity Diner is a relatively quiet business.

Especially on a summer weekday when it’s too hot to even function properly and Katsuki has sweat on his upper lip and in his palms from the short walk there.

Still, Katsuki curses all the gods that might exist for the fact that the diner is empty when he arrives for his shift the next morning, despite expecting just that.

“Good morning, Bakugou, you absolute jerk.”

Empty apart from Uraraka, of course.

“Fuck off, Round Face,” he hisses with a glare. “It’s too early to deal with your bullshit.”

“Oh no you don’t, mister.” She has her hands on her hips again, expression like she’s scolding a misbehaving child. “You put on that damn apron and get back out here so we can talk like I said we were going to.”

He brushes past her with an eye roll and a grumble. In the kitchen, he nods as he walks by Satou, diligently baking away to fill up their cabinet for the next couple days. He tries to take his time in the staffroom and flicks a message to Kirishima once he’s got his uniform on.

Bakugou (9:57): Thank fuck we have air conditioning at work.

Kirishima (9:58): lucky D: i’m dyinggggg ugh

Bakugou (9:58): Shame. Buy a fucking fan or something.

He pockets the phone and walks back out front with a heavy sigh. Uraraka corners him again by the time he’s clocking in.

“What,” he demands, but it comes out flat. He knows what.

“You know what,” she echoes his thoughts. She pauses until he makes eye contact with her and he frowns at the expectant grin on her face now. “Tell me about Kirishima!”

“There’s nothing to tell,” he states, walking over to the coffee machine to set his grind for the day. It usually takes him a couple tries; Kaminari’s is too damn fine. Either that or the dunce face just doesn’t tamp very hard, because either way it usually takes him a few shots every morning to get the coffee extracting the way it’s meant to.

“You can’t avoid this conversation, Bakugou,” she persists, following close behind him. He can feel her eyes watching him as he gets to work setting his grind, and hears her perch herself on the counter somewhere behind him.

A patient silence falls over them as Katsuki moves the grinder ring a couple notches over to start with and runs a trial shot through the machine. He counts the seconds it takes for it to pour into the cup and then uses a teaspoon to give it a taste. The black coffee is disgusting on its own, as it always is, but he pays attention to where on his tongue the bitterness lingers, and goes back to twist the ring another notch towards coarse.

Katsuki knows he can’t avoid talking to Uraraka about Kirishima forever. She’s the one who downloaded the app onto his phone and decided that hair-for-brains would be a good option for him, so she already knows more than he’d like her to. And honestly Katsuki would prefer she get answers from him than from Deku.

This time, the shot starts extracting exactly when it should, and Katsuki hands off the perfect espresso to Uraraka.

“You got in my head,” he mumbles as he gives her the cup.

She merely raises an eyebrow and takes a sip. “How so?”

“Saying that I was fucking bored and shit.” Katsuki crosses his arms and leans back against the counter. “I was going to delete it and then he messaged me so I decided, fuck it. What else was I going to do with my time?”

“So you’re going to pursue a summer romance with him?!” Uraraka asks, giddy.

Katsuki scowls. “What the fuck? No! Where the fuck did you get that idea from?”

Her smile turns confused. “Is that… not what you’re doing?”

She huffs when he only fixes her with a frustrated glare in reply.

“It’s a dating app, Bakugou, and you just admitted I was right about you being bored and lonely. Are you saying you’re not getting to know him so you can go on a few dates and have a fun little summer fling?”

Katsuki tries valiantly to ignore the fact that he can feel his face heating up again, and this time it’s got nothing to do with the weather outside.

“No!” he cries, strangled.

“Why not?” She’s frowning now.

“Why not? Fucking- I’m only talking to him to pass the time! I don’t want to fucking meet him, let alone date him!”

“But what better way to pass the time than with him?” she insists, waggling her eyebrows. Katsuki splutters.

“I don’t fucking know him! Do you know how stupid and dangerous it is to meet people you’ve only talked to online, Angelface? It’s a shitty fucking idea. I’m just talking to him because I have nothing else to do, but I don’t want to meet him and soon enough he’ll move on to wooing the next guy he fucking matches with on this godforsaken app and forget all about me anyway.”

Uraraka squints at him over the rim of her coffee, taking a long sip. Katsuki crosses his arms and holds his chin up. He recognises that expression on her face - he’s seen her wear it many times since they first started talking properly in their second year of high school. She thinks he’s being stubborn and difficult for no reason. And sure, maybe in high school Katsuki was stubborn and difficult for no reason about a lot of things, but he does have reasons now and he stands by them.

“I’m sorry but, to be frank,” she says after a long moment, “that all sounds like bullshit to me.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes and growls, “Did you miss the part where I said we don’t know each other?”

“But that’s exactly what you’re doing, Bakugou,” she states as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. “You’re getting to know each other. Just do that for a while longer if it makes it easier to meet him in person.”

He sighs heavily and drags a hand down his face in frustration. “You don’t get it. I’m not fucking meeting Shitty Hair, end of story.”

A sly grin slowly spreads across Uraraka’s face now. “What was that? Shitty Hair?”

Katsuki is momentarily saved from the conversation by a customer walking into the diner, making the bell above the door ring. It’s the chick with the ponytail, who seems far too fancy to be slumming it in Zero Gravity Diner for her morning coffee, but Katsuki gets to work on her usual order before she even says anything. He blocks out hers and Uraraka’s idle chatter (mostly about Ponytail’s girlfriend, who is a friend of Dunce Face), breathing deeply in an attempt to calm himself down as he makes the coffee. He feels shaky for some reason.

“Good morning, Bakugou-san,” Ponytail greets him as he hands her the coffee. He bites back the rude response on the tip of his tongue and forces a close-mouthed smile onto his face in return.

When Ponytail leaves, Uraraka waves and calls out a goodbye to her before she turns her attention to Katsuki once more. She looks less mischievous now than she had before Yaomomo walked in.

“Bakugou,” she starts, tone almost artificially light and airy, “do you know what your nickname system is?”

“My what?” he deadpans. This already sounds like a bunch of crap.

“Your nickname system,” Uraraka repeats. “Or do you think you just choose the nicknames you give people at random?”

“Of course I fucking do,” he snaps. “They just fucking come to me, I don’t sit and waste my time meticulously planning what names I’m going to call you idiots.”

Uraraka nods. “Well, I can tell you what your system is.”

“I just fucking said I don’t have one!” he yells incredulously, throwing his hands up.

“But you do,” she insists through laughter at his outburst. Katsuki seethes as she takes a moment to collect herself. “Look, you might not think so, but I think I’ve figured it out. If it’s not a general comment about our face, then it’s what you consider to be our most striking feature.”

It… actually sounds plausible, but it strikes Katsuki as wrong almost immediately because-

“Deku.”

She waves that off. “Deku-kun is the exception. You gave that nickname to him when you guys were, like, six. And you were a massive jerk to him back then.” She pauses. “Although, you’re still a jerk now, so…”

“You were saying?” he monotones.

“Right! So you’ve got me, who’s usually Round Face or Angelface. You also used to call me Pink Cheeks sometimes in high school because I wore too much blush, remember? Then there’s Dunce Face or Sparky, because of the bolt in Kaminari-kun’s hair, as well as Soy Sauce Face for his boyfriend and Frog Face for Tsuyu-chan.” She lists off the names, counting on her fingers as she goes. “But then there’s Todoroki, and you call him IcyHot or half-and-half something.” Uraraka looks up and smiles at him now. “That’s because of Todoroki-kun’s heterochromia, right?”

“And his whole fucking candy cane aesthetic,” Katsuki grumbles. And okay, he has to admit she seems to have a point. Apparently he needs to get more creative.

“Exactly! And now you’ve given Kirishima the nickname Shitty Hair,” she continues. “So I think that means you might actually like Kirishima’s hair.” She pokes him in the side as she says it and he swats her hand away.

Katsuki scoffs with a displeased, “Tch.” The conversation has gone on long enough as far as he’s concerned, so he turns away to grab some cleaning supplies out of the cupboard.

“Was that a yes?” Round Face prods, sounding far too pleased with herself.

“It’s bright fucking red,” Katsuki bites out, grabbing the spray and a cloth. “And he’s got so much gel in it that it literally sticks straight up on his fucking head.”

“I didn’t hear you deny it yet, Bakugou,” she sing-songs.

“Fuck off,” he says as he shoulders past her to actually get some work done.

“Hi Uraraka! Hey Kacchan,” Kaminari thinks he can get away with proclaiming as he walks into the diner for his shift later that afternoon.

“Call me that one more time, Sparky, and I’ll wipe that fucking smirk off your face,” Katsuki snarls, untying the apron from around his waist. Dunce Face only laughs.

God, he is more than ready to get out of this place today. Uraraka has been pestering him non-stop with questions, even when he resorted to only giving her grunts and one-worded answers. There’s nowhere to escape from her in a diner void of customers and he’s been itching to get away from her prying eyes all day. He hasn’t even messaged Kirishima once, though he’s felt his phone buzz in his pocket a few times.

He’s out of the door as soon as he can be, not even bothering to say goodbye to the others as he stalks out of the restaurant and far down the street before he takes out his phone.

Kirishima has mostly just messaged him a few updates about the heat and his adventures in finding a gym to work out at. It appears none of the ones he’s been to so far have given off the right ‘vibe’ yet, whatever that fucking means.

Bakugou (4:06): Have you been to Riot Recreation Center?

The reply is instant, as if Kirishima has been waiting all day for Katsuki’s response.

Kirishima (4:07): hey!! how was work? and no i haven’t, is it any good? :o

Bakugou (4:07): Boring and annoying. The RRC is the best place to go in town if you want to work out.

In truth, he hasn’t been to the gym there since before he knuckled down to study for finals towards the end of last semester. But he knows it offers an impressive amount of facilities.

Kirishima (4:08): i’ll look it up now!! :D

Katsuki pockets the phone as Kirishima does so. It’s cooled down quite a bit since this morning, though the sky is still cloudless. He stops in front of the entrance to a park he knows bridges the difference between suburbs and city. It’s the long way home and would add on about another twenty minutes to his walk, but instead of sticking to the roads, he decides to turn into the park today anyway.

There’s a decent crowd in the park making the most of the weather too. Plenty of people with their dogs, children laughing on the swings, picnic blankets littering the grass. Katsuki takes it in, people watching and admiring the flowers blooming along the path that winds through the gardens.

He feels his phone vibrate and pulls it out of his pocket, interested in what Kirishima thinks of the Riot Rec Center.

But it’s not a message from Kirishima.

You have a new match waiting for you! the notification on his screen declares.

Katsuki scowls and unlocks his phone, glaring at the photo that pops up on his screen of some guy with black hair and the fakest smile he thinks he’s ever seen in his life.

The message comes instantaneously.

Shindou (4:12): Hey there beautiful ;)

“Oh, fuck no,” Katsuki mutters, rushing to block the guy immediately. There’s no fucking way he’s falling for that; the guy already seems like an asshole in disguise. He must have been someone else Uraraka swiped on when she set him up on this godforsaken app, because lord knows Katsuki hasn’t used it for anything other than messaging Shitty Hair.

As he deletes the guy, Kirishima finally replies.

Kirishima (4:13): ooo, riot rec center looks really cool! it even has a rock climbing wall, that’s so manly! ^.^

Bakugou (4:14): Firstly, what the hell is your obsession with manliness all about? And secondly, Jesus fucking Christ this app sucks, some smarmy bastard just tried to weasel his way into my messages like a goddamn creep.

Kirishima (4:15): well, that is kind of what the app is for, you know? xD messaging and meeting new people... though i guess there are some creepy people on this too sadly :(

Katsuki doesn’t deem this worthy of a response and waits as Kirishima takes his time replying to his other question. He almost bumps into someone else heading in the opposite direction on the path, muttering a vague insult over his shoulder as he stares down at his phone.

Kirishima (4:19): as for your other question, well. it’s not so much ‘manliness’ that i like, but the virtues i believe manliness stands for. bravery, selflessness, integrity, dependability. a life led without regret. i used to be kind of a coward when i was younger, and i didn’t really like myself that much if i’m honest. but one day i decided that that’s not who i am in my heart. and so i try my best everyday to work towards becoming the man i want to be! i hope that makes sense :’)

It might be the stupidest thing Katsuki has heard in a long time. And yet, something tugs at his lips until they’re pulled upwards into a smile. He chuckles and shakes his head, unable to deny the feeling of fondness that swells in his chest.

Another text makes his phone buzz in his hand.

Kirishima (4:19): speaking of having no regrets! since you seem to hate the app so much, why don’t we exchange numbers? :3

It’s followed by Kirishima’s own phone number, which makes Katsuki scoff. There’s no way he’s giving out his damn number to the guy.

Bakugou (4:20): You’re an idiot, and no, you can’t have my phone number. But your ridiculous speech about the virtues of manliness did somehow make sense, Shitty Hair.

The two continue to talk as Katsuki makes his way through the park. Out of the corner of his eye, something bright catches his attention while he’s chatting with Kirishima. It’s a small flower bush with blooming red petals that almost look like leaves. It’s rather vibrant, and the way they stick out at all angles instantly reminds Katsuki of Kirishima’s hair in his profile picture.

Without even thinking, he takes a photo of the flowers and sends them to the other boy.

Bakugou (4:25): They’re red and spiky like your stupid hair.

Kirishima (4:25): aww, you are just a secret romantic, aren’t you katsuki! taking pictures of flowers that remind you of me :’D i’m flattered!

Katsuki rolls his eyes and calls him an idiot again, then changes the subject. He just thought the flowers looked nice.

He stops by the grocery store and buys himself some actual food on the way home, messaging Shitty Hair periodically as he does so. The same strange part of him that made him take the long way home through the park today feels motivated enough to cook dinner for himself tonight as well. Katsuki hasn’t felt like doing either of those things in weeks, but he’s not going to question it now.

Kirishima (4:39): okay but, you weren’t there, he was like a REALLY BIG octopus, i swear! >.<

Just like he’s not going to question the fact that a stranger he’s only been texting for four days can make him smile with the most ridiculous things.

#kiribaku #bakushima #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #eijirou kirishima #kirishima eijirou #bnha #mha #boku no hero acadmia #my hero academia #armadillos can write #my fanfic #do not ask me how i am managing to stay motivated enough to write this bc honestly it's a miracle

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mosylufanfic · 6 years

Note

Killervibe and room mates for the AU August thing!!!

Oh nonny, you are so patient. Here you go. They were roommates.

You Can’t Keep Secrets From Your Roommate

Texting about his plans for the evening, Cisco unlocked his front door and twisted the knob. It stuck under his hand, and he looked up from the phone. "What the - "

He rattled the knob, which steadfastly refused to turn. Then he realized that it had been unlocked to begin with, and he'd locked it again.

He also realized there was a little blue car in his driveway.

He grinned.

He unlocked the door and went into the house. A purse sat on the hall table, a coat heaped on the floor under it. In the living room, a woman in dark blue scrubs sprawled facedown on the couch, dead to the world.

"Dear god," he said loudly. "There's a strange woman in my house."

She didn't stir.

"What? Can it be? My long-lost roommate? She does look a little like Caitlin . . . "

She let out a snore.

He shook his head fondly. "Dork." He reached over her and pulled the deeply ugly crocheted blanket off the back of the couch, spreading it over her.

She stirred, snuffling like an adorable little piglet, and blinked her eyes open. "Cisco?"

"For that you wake up?"

She yawned. "What are you doing home so early?"

"Check the time, Sleeping Beauty." He held his phone out.

Her eyes widened. "Oh, I fell asleep."

"Sure as hell did. So they let you out of the salt mines?"

She yawned again and pushed herself to a sitting position, rubbing her neck. "Ow. Yes, I'm off until tomorrow evening."

She was doing her residency at a local hospital. Cisco had been gobsmacked when she'd told him that eighty-plus hour weeks were commonplace, even expected. But he'd gotten used to barely seeing her except on her way out the door or on her way to bed.

Not that he liked it. But he’d gotten used to it.

"Whoa, seriously?” he said. “Twenty-four whole hours of freedom? What are you going to do with that?"

"Laundry and cleaning tomorrow," she said. "But tonight, Netflix. Lots of Netflix."

"Sweet." He dropped onto the couch next to her. "Want company?"

"Oh, Cisco, it's Friday night." She paused. "It is Friday night, right?"

"Yep."

"So, I'm sure you have plans to go out. You always do."

He pushed his phone into his pocket as it buzzed with a text from Barry about which bars they were going to hit. "Actually, this week has thrashed me too."

She looked skeptical. "Really?"

"Yeah. I mean, I didn't save anybody's life or get drenched head to toe in bodily fluids like some people on this couch, but there was this big project due and my boss was riding us hard. I'm in serious need of unwinding."

That was all true, although up until five minutes ago, his plan for unwinding had included shots, dancing, and maybe making out with someone cute in a darkened club. But he tossed that plan without a second thought

"Besides, when was the last time we had a roomie TV night?"

"Months," she said.

And that was why.

When he'd first met Caitlin, as one-half of the couple who'd wanted to move into the spare room he'd advertised on Craigslist, he'd thought she was sweet but shy and not really his type of friend. He'd clicked much more quickly with Ronnie, her boyfriend, and been more than happy to sign on the dotted line with him. Caitlin had come as part of the package. He'd been okay with that because just looking at her, he knew she was the type to pay rent scrupulously on time and never leave her dishes in the sink.

But within a few months, he'd figured out that she was sharp and funny and smart as hell, and she'd become his friend in her own right, not just as Ronnie's girlfriend.

After Ronnie had been killed by a drunk driver, their senior year of college, it had never crossed his mind to have her move out, and as far as he knew, she'd never thought of it either. This was her home.

People thought it was weird sometimes - mostly women he dated, or biphobic guys. They just couldn't understand how you could share a house for this long with someone you weren't banging.

"She's like my sister," he told them, which wasn't exactly true, but it got them off his back. Anyway, he knew that was what she told the guys she'd sporadically dated after Ronnie died, that he was like her brother. As far as he could tell, it was true for her.

He didn't really need a roommate anymore. His job at Mercury Labs more than covered the expenses of the house he'd inherited from his grandma, not like when he'd been in school and only able to work part-time at a garage.

But Caitlin had four months of residency still to go, and besides her massive school loans, the hospital where she worked was only a few miles away, close enough to drive in five minutes. Or for Cisco to go pick her up when she was so tired she couldn't move.

Anyway, he liked having her there. He'd never lived anywhere alone and he didn't want to start now.

He didn't like to think about what would happen when she was done with her residency and got a job somewhere else.

She smiled at him. “Okay. Let’s do a roomie TV night.””

He smiled back, bumping her with his shoulder. "Excellent. Chinese or pizza?"

"Chinese," she said.

"Great, that means the show is my pick." He grabbed the remote and turned the TV on.

She gasped. "Dirty pool, Cisco. I'm not watching Game of Thrones."

"Please," he said, flicking through Netflix. "You'll fall asleep again." It still offended him to his mortal soul.

She rolled her eyes and peeled herself off the couch. "Did I leave my purse in the kitchen?"

"Front hall," he called out.

His phone buzzed again, and he pulled it out. A string of texts from Barry stacked up on the screen, his friend baffled that he'd ghosted in the middle of their conversation.

He tapped out, Actually, do you mind if I cancel on you guys?

Caitlin's got the night off for once and we need roomie time

Holy shit they let her out?

IKR It's been forever

Yeah it's okay

Have fun w o me

So, are you going to talk to her?

No I'm going to ignore her all night as we hang out watching TV and eating chow mein

Duh I'm going to talk to her

You know what I mean

TALK to her

He stared at the phone. Thought about pretending he didn't know what Barry meant.

He tapped back, No

!!!!!!

Wrong time

I told you

If you're not careful she's going to move out or get with someone else and you'll have lost your chance

He put the phone away without answering and kept browsing Netflix.

She wasn't done with residency. She'd had a breakup not even a month ago. Not to mention, she was living in his house. If he confessed that he'd been having not-brotherly feelings for her for awhile now and she didn't feel the same way, it had the potential to make things really weird and awful. And what if she felt like she had to date him to keep living there?

He'd rather keep pretending to be just her good buddy Cisco forever then make her feel like that.

"Orange chicken or sweet and sour?" she asked him, scowling at her phone as she came back in.

"Sweet and sour," he decided. "And crab puffs."

She held her phone out to show him that crab puffs were the first thing on the order. "I know what you like," she said.

"Yeah, you do," he grinned at her. "And I do too. Which is why we're watching Parks and Rec."

She smiled at him. She looked tired and frazzled but her smile lit up her face. "I need a shower first, though. I smell like the hospital."

"Yeah, I didn't want to mention it . . . "

She pretended to swat him, then checked her phone again. "As soon as this order goes through." She sighed. "It's so slow lately."

"Get a new phone."

"I'm waiting to upgrade until after - "

"Residency," he said along with her. "It doesn't help that you have, like, half a kilobyte of spare storage on there."

"I need all those things. Finally!" she said as the confirmation popped up. "Okay, about forty-five minutes."

"Great. Gimme that, I'll clean it out."

She clutched it to her heart. "You'll delete everything."

"Your pictures are backed up," he said patiently. She hoarded pictures and videos like a very specific kind of dragon. "I set up your cloud storage myself. And how the hell many apps do you have?"

"I use them!"

"Okay fine, if you've used them in the past month, I won't delete them. But you don't need six months' worth of podcasts."

She pouted a little. "I'll listen to them all."

"When? After residency? You can download them again." He wiggled his fingers. "Give."

She handed it over. "But don't touch Sawbones," she ordered, already on her way to her room and the attached bathroom.

"Got it," he called out, already busy deleting. "Sawbones is sacrosanct."

It took him about five minutes to free up several gigs of space. Since he was in there, he decided to clean up her pictures. Old screenshots, discarded selfies, random stuff he was pretty sure she'd texted him. It was all backed up anyway.

He found several selfies they'd taken together and sat smiling at them for a little while. He had most of the same ones saved, downloaded from wherever she'd posted them.

He scrolled through the set again and realized there were some of his, taken with his phone and posted online, which meant that she'd downloaded them.

Hmmm.

Well.

They were pretty good pictures.

A text popped up, with her ex-boyfriend's name at the top. I had a lovely time the other night

His eyebrows shot up.

As far as he knew, Julian was still in England and would be for at least another six months. So what was this "other night" he spoke of? Had they sexted? A little post-breakup virtual hanky-panky?

"I don't want to know," he muttered, which was a lie. He kind of wanted to know.

Okay, he really wanted to know.

Sorry! That was meant for someone else

But now I've bothered you, how are you doing?

"Oho," Cisco said as all came clear. He calculated the time difference between Central City and London and felt justified in calling bullshit. Unless Julian was booty-calling someone at about four in the morning, this was the kind of idea that sounded really, really good when you were very tired and more than slightly drunk.

Impulsively, he swiped to open the conversation and smirked at the keyboard, fingers ready to call the other man on his nonsense.

Then he thought - no, that's a terrible idea and Caitlin will be furious. If she wanted to call him out, she should get the pleasure of it herself. Reluctantly, he swiped down to close the keyboard.

That brought more of the text conversation down to fill the screen. It was pretty dull stuff - have a nice trip, take care of yourself. He scrolled a little and found stilted queries about whether he'd found a hoodie of hers, about whether she still had his charger. Very, very polite and a little bit pained. Breakup stuff.

It had been an amicable breakup as far as he knew. "Long-distance is too hard," Caitlin had said, packing a half-empty box of tea, a T-shirt, and the debated phone charger into a paper grocery sack. "Especially with my residency and his fellowship taking up so much energy. We decided it was better to end on good terms."

But even the nicest breakup was still a breakup, an ending, an us falling apart into a you and a me. So he wasn't surprised at the stiff tone.

He scrolled up and found the next one back, not polite, not businesslike at all.

I'm not doing this over text.

It was from Caitlin. He checked the timestamp - two weeks before Julian had left. Right around the time they'd broken up.

If that didn't sound like an about-to-break-up text . . .

His fingers hovered over the screen, and then he gave in to insatiable curiosity and swiped down to see what kind of dealbreaker thing Julian had said to her.

No matter what I do, you're never going to feel half as much for me as you do for him

What the fuck.

He sat staring at the text, especially the last word.

Him.

Who was him?

His first thought was Ronnie. But Julian had said do, not did. Cisco had talked with Caitlin about Ronnie enough over the years for him to know that while she'd always love him and treasure his memory, that memory was folded away in her past. This sounded like current feelings, for a living man.

He tried to remember if she'd talked about any of their guy friends more often than any other. Or someone at the hospital? She didn't mention her co-workers at the hospital much.

So who the hell was him?

And why hadn't she mentioned him to Cisco?

He debated with himself, then turned off the phone to clear out the deleted things, and not incidentally, keep himself from reading more of the conversation. He was already feeling guilty for having read as much as he had.

Should he ask?

Caitlin came out of her room in pajamas, her hair damp. "How's the patient?" she asked him, folding herself into the couch next to him.

She smelled like flowery shampoo and apple-flavored lotion. It was warm and familiar, one of his favorite smells.

He turned the phone back on and handed it back. "Think he's gonna make it."

She tapped in her code and opened a few things to test, then smiled at him when everything was speeded up. "Thanks. So, which season are we watching?"

He realized the Netflix screen was still up, waiting for a choice. "You pick," he said.

"Me? Okay." She reached for the remote next to his leg.

"So, uh," he said as she flicked through seasons, weighing their merits. "Julian texted while I was working on your phone."

"Julian?" she said, surprised. "What did he want?" She opened her texts and looked. "That's weird. Did you read this?"

"Well, it popped up, so."

She shook her head, baffled. "Do you think he's trying to make me jealous?"

"Seems like. Are you going to answer him?"

She laughed. "No. I think he's going to wake up in the morning and be very embarrassed."

"How's he doing, anyway?"

"I don't really know. Okay, I guess. We haven't talked much. We're both - "

"So busy," he finished. "Yeah." He fiddled with his own phone, watching as she finally chose season three. He should ask.

He shouldn't ask.

But he had to know.

But if she'd wanted him to know, she would have damn well told him.

He found himself saying, "I have to confess something."

She widened her eyes at him as Ron and Leslie bickered on-screen. "You deleted Sawbones?"

"No, I told you I'd leave it alone. You've still got like twenty episodes. No, uh - " He dug his fingers into the upholstery. "I kind of read more of your texts with Julian."

She frowned at him. "Why?"

"I - you're right. I shouldn't have. But I was in there anyway and - I'm sorry."

She shrugged, tucking her legs up under herself. "I'm sure they were very exciting."

"A little," he said. "Caitlin, why didn't you tell me?"

A little silence, and then she said, "Tell you what?"

"Why you really broke up with him."

Color seeped away from her cheeks. She turned her head to stare fixedly at the TV. "I told you. The distance and we were busy and - "

"And you're in love with someone else."

"Oh god," she whispered. "You read that far?"

"Yeah," he said. "Why is this the first I'm hearing about it?"

"I - I couldn't," she said. "Not to you. I couldn’t." She covered her face with her hands. "Do you want me to move out?"

"Move out?" he almost shouted. "What the hell? Why would I ever want you to move out?"

She dropped her hands to stare at him. Her eyes were wet and red. "It would be so awkward if I stayed."

"Why?"

The chirpy, peppy theme music started, jarring in the taut silence. He grabbed the remote from her lap and hit pause.

"Caitlin," he sad. "Why would it be awkward? Who are you in love with?"

Her eyes went very wide. "You - you didn't see the whole conversation."

"No," he said.

She bit her lip. "Someone. From the hospital. You don't know him."

He looked at her hard. "Caitlin Snow, you are the worst liar I've ever met."

Her pale face flushed with color. "I'm not lying."

"That's exactly what you say every time you bluff at poker.” He nodded at her phone, now clutched tightly in her hand. “If I’d read farther back, what would I have seen? Who was Julian talking about?”

“Someone from the hospital,” she said stubbornly, getting to her feet. “You know what, I think I should get a head start on my laundry.”

“But,” he said. “Wait. What? You're just going to run away?”

She stopped in the hall, not looking back at him. “I need you to not push me on this, Cisco,” she said evenly.

A moment later, the door to her room shut with a snap.

He stared blankly at the TV screen for a moment. Then he got up and went to her door.

It looked blank and stolid, about as informative as Caitlin’s stiff back when she’d told him not to push her.

He scowled and raised his hand to knock.

His hand froze, and then he pulled it back and laced his fingers together on the top of his head, letting out a long whoosh of a breath.

Was he crazy?

Had Julian meant him in that text thread?

Or did he just want Caitlin’s mystery guy to be himself so bad that he was talking himself into believing it was?

He had been pushing, like she’d said. What was going through her mind? What could he say to get her to let down those walls of hers? Because he’d seen what happened when people tried to just bash through. It didn’t end well.

The doorbell rang, and he jolted. The food. Shit. Had it been forty-five minutes already?

After he’d taken the food and paid the kid, he took everything to the kitchen and unpacked the bag, setting out square boxes, opening one after another to figure out which was his and which was hers.

His brain churned around and around, but no matter what clever things he came up with, he kept returning to the one thing that felt like it would work. Only one thing that would get her to open up.

But it was one hell of a risk.

Far away, Caitlin’s door clicked open. He forced himself to stay where he was, snapping a pair of chopsticks apart and poking at his sweet and sour chicken.

Caitlin walked through the kitchen with a laundry basket on her hip.

“Food’s here,” he said.

Her eyes flickered toward him, then the boxes lined up on the counter. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll just get the first load in.” She ducked her head and continued on to the laundry room. The washer door clanged, and cloth rustled as she started loading it.

He fished a piece of bell pepper out of the box and lifted it to his mouth, but his stomach felt like a whirlpool. He dropped it back in the box, his heart slamming against his ribs. He opened his mouth a couple of times, just to close it again.

There was a click, and then water started whooshing into the washing machine. In a moment, she was going to come out here again and he was going to have to say this to her face. And he didn’t know if he had the guts for that.

“You know,” he called out, “I didn't tell you, but I was pretty happy when you broke up with Julian.”

Silence.

“Not because I don't like him, or because he was bad for you, or anything. He was an okay guy, Julian, and he treated you mostly pretty good. It’s just that every time I saw you holding his hand, or kissing him, or - “ He swallowed. “Or going to your room together, it reminded me that, uh. That you were with him. And more importantly, you weren't with me.”

He looked up. Caitlin stood in the door between the laundry room and the kitchen, looking at him. Her eyes were huge and her face was pale.

“And I wanted to be with you,” he finished.

She swallowed hard. “But I’m like your sister. You say that all the time.”

“And I’m like your brother,” he said. “Which you say all the time. But who are we saying it to, Caitlin? Because I’m mostly saying it to people I’m dating, to keep them from being weirded out that we live together and you’re basically my favorite person.”

She nodded. “Me too.”

“Julian didn’t believe you, did he?” He had a balloon in his stomach now, instead of a whirlpool, blowing up wide, pushing his heart up into his throat.

She shook her head, very slowly. “No. And he - he wasn’t wrong.”

He licked his desert-dry lips. “So it was me you were fighting about?"

"I have so little free time," she said. "And he always thought that he should come first in my priorities when I did get a night off. He hated it that you did."

He remembered how she'd always waited to hear what he was doing before telling him that she was going to Julian's place, and how their more scheduled dates were always on his D&D night, or when he was going to a party. He'd always thought that was to take advantage of the empty house.

"Hard to blame him, really."

"I didn't realize how I felt when I started dating Julian," she said. "I really did like him. Just - like he said. Not enough."

Poor Julian. He'd come in second all the time; no wonder he'd snapped at her over text.

Cisco was finding it hard to feel too much pity for the other guy. After all, if he hadn't snapped, Caitlin wouldn't have broken up with him, and she wouldn't be here in this kitchen, drifting closer in soft little kitten steps.

"You said you wanted to be with me," she said. "Is that past tense?"

He set the box of sweet and sour chicken down on the counter, gripping the edge of it so he wouldn't just reach out and grab her.

"Present tense," he said. "I want to be with you. But I told myself I couldn't make it weird, what with you paying me rent and all."

She put her hand on his chest. His heart thudded so hard he wondered if it would just burst out and land in her palm. "I can move out," she said, mouth quirking. "I made the offer."

"The hell you will," he said, and pulled her close to press his lips to hers.

They did end up eating all the food. Eventually.

They didn't watch any TV, though.

FINIS

#Cisco Ramon #Caitlin Snow #killervibe #fanfiction #mosylufanfic lives up to her damn name #AUgust prompts #and they were roommates!!#roommate AU #the flash #Anonymous

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the-wonder-duo · 6 years

Text

Random Ass Update #3

This one is dedicated to all you shits that can’t read.

A tsunami rocked the West coast. In light of the ongoing investigation into InvisaInk’s death, we decided that it’d be best if Deku went alone to aid with recovery efforts.

Thousands died. Recovery efforts are still ongoing.

If you’ve got the means, you oughta donate to the Japan Relief and Recovery Fund.

I stayed in the East.

Answered some shit questions between patrols. Told you fucks about Deku’s questionable taste in music.

PSA: I’m better than Deku at everything.

Deku kept in touch while he was in the Nagano through audio logs and holocalls.

There were sightings of someone that might’ve looked like me. At the time, I dismissed it as bullshit.

Explosions rocked the streets of Hosu. The cause was not determined.

Get your conspiracy theory asses off my blog.

I was arrested after an attack in Hosu; Okane Trust & Banking Company had been robbed in an explosive attack.

The Hero Police Force released a statement revealed that on-site video surveillance captured footage of me at the scene, though the security system experienced technical difficulties only moments later.

Sweat and hair analysis also placed me at the scene.

Deku came back— even though I told him to stay in the East. Even though he was supposed to stick to the West to help tsunami victims.

There were protests. I guess some of you lot aren’t complete dickheads, after all.

Thanks.

I was drugged with Quirk suppressants. Standard procedure for those that’re being detained.

My body didn’t react that well to ‘em.

Footage of the bank robbery was leaked.

Deku compiled evidence to prove that I was innocent.

When presenting his argument to the detectives who were in charge of the investigation, Deku was dismissed without any consideration.

Asshole discovered that I was gonna be transferred to a maximum security prison even though I hadn’t even been arrested in any official capacity. Hadn’t even been charged of any crimes.

Idiot broke me out of jail.

Words don’t even begin to express what I felt.

That idiot has so much going for him, you know? Wouldn’t have partnered up with him if he weren’t a damn good hero. He lives to help others. Dunno if he could live without it.

And that could’ve been the end of it. Right there.

He would’ve given it up. Thrown it all away.

For me.

You’re an idiot, Deku.

We were pursued by Pros and police, but we managed to make it to the sewers. Since we’d spent weeks combing through them, we knew them pretty well.

Took refuge in an undocumented Quirk shelter.

Deku’d scheduled a leak of information to be posted onto the blog before he’d left. To tell everyone that he could of what had really happened, and to show why I wasn’t guilty of the crimes that I’d been accused of.

Here’s the gist of what he wrote:

I’m sure that the people who were responsible for kidnapping Kacchan are those who are responsible for InvisaInk, and do not say that without backing. The proof is in the visual evidence that has already been uploaded online by multiple sources; I suspect that the footage that was sent to me last night will be uploaded before long, as well.

Most would say that those leaked stills that show an apparent Kacchan robbing a bank appear to be wrong, somehow. And those conclusions would be correct.

There’s the obvious— the haircut, for one, which doesn’t at all match was Kacchan is currently sporting —but then there’s the more subtle (for those who don’t know Kacchan as well as I do, anyways).

The imposter in the video is a mirror image of the actual Bakugou Katsuki.

Upon reviewing some of the footage taken by crowd’s phones that day in the park— the day the fake InvisaInk confronted the both of us—I can see now that that InvisaInk was a mirror image of the actual InvisaInk, as well; for those that want obvious proof, I suggest slowing the video down to a fourth of it’s usual speed and pausing as InvisaInk lifts his gun to Kacchan’s head— you can see the visible outline of InvisaInk’s tattoo as his shirt sleeves rides up— on his left arm.

The actual InvisaInk’s tattoo was located on his right arm.

A closer examination of each of their features has further proved that this person is, in fact, able to create mirror images of their target— given what they’ve known to have taken from both Kacchan and InvisaInk, I can only infer that they use bone marrow to supply this transformation with the aid of their Quirk.

This also shows why the YouTube video uploaded of the fake InvisaInk’s spiel had actually seemed to be right for both Kacchan and I— before the video had been uploaded, the murderers had actually edited and flipped the footage, so that the person being displayed was on the correct side again.

And yes, I did say murderers— because I believe this to be the work of not just one person, but at least two. Further inspection of the sight of the bank blast and an analysis of the explosion has proven that yes, while Kacchan’s actual sweat had ignited the ensuring explosion, it had blown the wall upon from inside the bank— he hadn’t entered from the outside, as witnesses and the footage depict of the alleged “Ground Zero.”

I have come to the conclusion that the second accomplice is one that harvests body parts in order to gain use of that target’s Quirk; for InvisaInk, the murderers harvested his skin, and for Kacchan— his hands.

The same hands that were taken from him months ago. During his kidnapping— which had been so similar to that of InvisaInk’s.

Chillingly, a closer look at footage captured at the Charity Smash event depicts a person that looks eerily similar to InvisaInk— with the exception of his height, his hair, and his features. In fact, his skin seems to be the only startling match— a comparison shows that the freckles on this man’s face exactly match those of InvisaInk’s.

‘Course it wasn’t me.

I’d never pull a stunt like that.

I’m a goddamn hero.

Anyways, some numbskull who’d just been released from their own interrogation actually managed to snap a pic of Deku breaking me out of there.

Didn’t cower in the sewers, though.

We found the fuckers that were responsible for what had happened.

Had some help from another Pro Hero, Earphone Jack.

Deku kept more of a level head than I did, admittedly.

I dunno. I guess it was harder than I ever would’ve imagined it’d be. Keeping my cool. When the sick bastards that skinned InvisaInk alive were right in front of me.

Chased ‘em to a crowded street, police got involved, caught the murderers, and gave ourselves up.

Seems like they might’ve been two of Backlash’s lackeys, but in all goddamn honesty, they seem like a pair of those Anti-Quirk Liberation League nutjob extremists. ‘Least, they seem that way to me.

Toga Akane was one of ‘em. Sister of Toga Himiko, who gained some fame from working as member of the League of Villains some years back.

She’s in possession of a Quirk that allows her to become a mirror image of anyone who’s bone marrow she consumes.

Claims she hates her sister. That people like her are the scum of the Earth. That people like herself are scum of the Earth. That people like them ought not to exist, and that their actions— and more importantly, their Quirks —are proof of that.

Says that she did it for the greater good. Part of a way of showing once and for all that Quirks ought to be eliminated— part of a way to show us all how they ruin lives.

The Anti-Quirk Liberation League won’t claim her. Say that they don’t associate themselves with common criminals, and that they’re horrified and repulsed by her actions.

Last I heard, she’s attempted suicide at least twice since the beginning of her imprisonment.

The other murderer was Hada Dorobō. Possessed an undocumented Quirk that snatches the abilities of other Quirks through imbibing body parts conducive to the utilization of other Quirks.

Appears that the sick bastard can only snatch one Quirk at a time; if he tries to take on another, the body part that he stole rots off of him.

Deku and I were released after Lead Detective Naomasa discovered that the secretary to the Senior Commissioner had been, essentially, brainwashing most of the force via email. Had a Quirk that affected perception through written word.

It’s been confirmed that the Senior Commissioner was bribed to ignore these criminal acts, and both of ‘em have been arrested. S’why the force had been acting so unreliably recently.

Originally, we were given a week of house arrest and ‘till the first of June of suspension, but that was changed to house arrest ‘till the first a few days ago.

After the first, we’ll be allowed to work as Pro Heroes again.

So we’ve been sitting around the house ‘till then.

Answered some more questions.

Deku revealed that he’s come across a Quirk that allowed the wielder’s dick to function like a compass. Pointed towards what the user really wanted, apparently.

I think that Deku’s a gullible dumbass and that it was just a boner.

Deku doesn’t wanna be the number one hero anymore.

He wants to be the best hero.

A great hero.

Fuck you, Deku.

There’s been some fallout. Apparently you can’t just break outta jail and expect to be considered a shining example of heroism by everyone.

Who would’ve imagined that.

I don’t give a damn what you have to say about it. Yeah, breaking me out was a stupid move, and yeah, it could’ve been so much worse, but you know what? Deku’s still a hero in my eyes.

In case you’ve lived under a rock for the past decade, you ought to know that the leader of the League of Villains is dead.

My biggest rival made a comeback.

Played some games.

One of ‘em was perverted as hell. Our publicist is a real piece of work, putting that crap together.

Truth or Dare ended with a naked Deku in my bed.

Deku worried too damn much about it.

It’s fine. Fucking weird, and awkward, and yeah, I was pissed that he pulled something like that just ‘cause he thought he could get some info that I wouldn’t hand over to him on a silver platter, but the fuck got too caught up in that.

Culminated in Deku putting himself into a slump.

Asshole told me that it’d be best if we didn’t share a bed for now.

Informed him of how goddamn stupid he is.

And then I told him to come to bed.

For better or for worse, we’re a team.

Shitnerd’s just gonna have to accept it.

We’re not fucking.

And we’re more than ready to go back to work already.

#bakudeku #katsudeku #izukatsu #eventually #only a few more days 'till i'm out of this goddamn house #two weeks cooped up with deku #is two weeks too long #trust me #weekly update #ground zero signing in

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