#Dreams in Rockefeller Center

[taevisionceo]

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Data 374 - Nov 24, 2022

[imightgetbetter]

back in time

i don't even know what came over me, but i basically meshed all these ideas into one and here we are, five thousand words later. i typically love writing long pieces, so we'll see if this becomes the new trend for my writing. as always, be nice and give feedback (reblog and messages and all that). thank you for all the support you've been showing me. it literally makes me so happy. okay bye. have fun reading! content warning: MATURE (if you're a minor, get out of here)

Nearly everything in your quaint apartment is moved out, deconstructed, and sold. Outside, New York City is bustling with movement. Holiday season always is. Mothers dragging their families to the Rockefeller Center Tree and Times Square and the notably known apartment buildings in SoHo. Inside, you are waiting anxiously for the buzzer to sound near your front door, where there is someone on their way to help you gather the rest of your things and move back home. Originally, your mother was meant to fly out and help you, but his willingness and insistence that it would be easier for him to come and help because he knows the area quite well from visiting and you’d already asked him (you didn’t), so he had absolutely no issue flying out for only a day or two to get things moved back home, made it so that she simply couldn’t refuse.

Holidays and special occasions always went like this from as early as you can remember. The Healy’s, The Daniel’s, The MacDonald’s, The Hann’s, and your family, all gathered in someone’s house, sharing stories and alcoholic beverages as the boys wacked and played their instruments and you would sit idly by trying to make yourself seem busy and uninterested. And that worked quite well, you thought, for years. Until one holiday, you found yourself drunkenly kissing Matty Healy on the side of your house, his hands brushing electrically against the skin hidden by a thick sweater. His skin was so warm compared to the harsh winter air around you, and kissing him, albeit drunkenly, made your entire body feel warm.

You and Matty never spoke of it, once you two walked back inside, making up some lie that you needed help throwing out the garbage. No one believed you, but you couldn’t speak of it, ever again. Not once. Mistakes are made when you’re drunk and you were friends and you were friends with his friends and you all grew up together, and it felt like the absolute worst thing you could possibly do. You ignored it, and Matty seemed to not have any cares for the fact that this had happen, continuing to act as he always had towards you. You thought it was a one-off thing, a one-time mistake. Until the next party. Until, when everyone was distracted, Matty was taking your hand and pulling you towards the entry way closet and grabbing your face and kissing you.

And this happened, a lot.

Matty never kissed you sober, which, was somehow insulting and intriguing simultaneously. Could you really be everything Matty wanted when he was drunk, but absolutely nothing more than a friend when sober? Questions like this swirled around your brain every time a gathering happened – which was quite often for you all – and every time, you found yourself drunkenly misplaced in his arms, his lips on yours. Matty never took it farther, never pushed it, as though that was enough for now.

All the one-off kissing was enough, until the day came when you were officially leaving. Your acceptance to New York University did not come as a shock to anyone, especially not your friends. You had always been a writer, from the minute you knew words, you were making up stories. You sat with Matty as he wrote songs, giving him synonyms and telling him if his rhyming scheme was off. You were made for this, and it was your dream coming true.

One last party was necessary, all the friends and family gathered together for one last real party, one where it wouldn’t only be because you were visiting in town for the holidays or the summer. All your friends were gathered on the floor of your bedroom, sitting knee to knee as you all share a joint around the circle and talk about what’s going to happen when you leave.

‘You’ve got to come back for holidays,’ George said, tilting his head back and letting the smoke puff out between his lips. ‘Have to check in and listen to what we’re working on, too.’

‘I’m not dropping off the face of the earth,’ you argue, stealing the joint and pulling it between your lips. ‘I’ll still be around. There’s the internet and stuff in America. I’m not going to the Arctic. You act like I’m never coming home.’

‘Might as well be,’ Matty huffs, the cigarette smoke pooling around his head like a cloud. He’s been the one having the hardest time with you leaving, and everyone could see it. He relayed his happiness for your acceptance, as everyone did, but there was something different attached to it, a different feeling. Matty stood up suddenly, lending out his hand for you, ‘I’m going to go outside for some air. Want to come?’

‘Uh, sure.’ His hand felt warm against yours, and you two slipped out the front door without anyone in the garden noticing. Matty walked you to the side of your house, a spot you remember vividly, and the tension feels weird, the energy is different, like there is so much to say but you want to say nothing at all. ‘You’re acting strange.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Matty says quietly, stubbing out the cigarette on the ground and leaning his hand on the side of the house. Adjusting yourself slightly, you twisted yourself to be facing him. ‘I can’t handle you leaving. It’s making me lose my bloody mind.’

“Matty, I’m going to school,’ you say, trying to brush away the feelings welling inside you. Objectively, to anyone else watching, this would be the perfect moment to profess your feelings for him, for him to share his feelings with you and tell you that you’re all he wants, and he’ll do the distance and all the things you watch in shitty romantic movies growing up. ‘I’m going to still talk to you and the guys. I’ll be back for holidays and summers. I’m not disappearing.’

‘I don’t want you to go.’

‘That’s not really an option, Matty. My career isn’t here. Nothing ties me to Manchester, besides my parents, growing up here. I want to go to New York. I want to go and experience it and then I want to come back and move to London and be an author and do all the things. Just like you want to be a musician. I wouldn’t be showing up at your house hours before you leave for a tour telling you not to go.’

‘I wouldn’t go,’ Matty says, turning his head away from the wall of the house and towards you. ‘I wouldn’t go if you didn’t want me to.’

‘That’s ridiculous,’ you say, leaning against the siding of the house and tilting your head up towards the sky, staring at the stars. ‘You shouldn’t ever give up your dreams for your friends. That’s absurd and you know it.’

‘Jesus Christ, YN,’ Matty says roughly, the scratch in his throat accentuated by a wet rasp, and when you look at him, you can see the tears welling in his eyes, ‘you are not just my friend, you never have been. It’s always been more than that, and you know it.’

‘Know what, Matty? Me and you are only a thing when we’re high or we’re drunk. It’s not like you’re in love with me or something!’

‘And what if I was?’

‘Don’t say that to me. You can’t say that to me,’ you say, pushing off the wall and hurriedly walking towards the front door. Matty grabs your wrist and twists you around, grabbing your face in his hands and kissing you deeply. It’s the type of kiss you read about, the one you watch in movies. It’s the type of kiss that leaves you breathless and confused and unsure where to go, only that you need to keep kissing him. Matty pulls away only for a second, giving you a moment to say, ‘You can’t do this when I’m about to leave. It’s not fair, Matty.’

‘I know, I’m sorry.’ Matty rubs your cheeks softly, his eyes tracing over your features, trying to memorize everything about you. ‘I just, I can’t let you leave without knowing how I feel about you. You’ve always been more than just a drunken kiss.’ You don’t know what to say, how to feel. ‘I want you. I want to be with you. I love you.’

‘I’m going to be on another continent, Matty,’ you sigh, tears welling in your eyes as you lean your face into his hands. ‘I can’t do long distance. I don’t want to. I want to write and fall in love and fall out of love and have experiences, and I want you to have those, too. I can’t do this, no matter how I feel about you. Matty, we can’t do this.’

Matty knows you better than to ask what he wants to really ask you. ‘Can I come and visit you? Can you come home and listen to the band and write songs with me? Can we get high and talk about existential crises and politics?’ His eyes squeeze shut as you wipe a tear from his cheek. ‘Can I still kiss you?’

‘Yes,’ you say, not specifying which question you’re answering. Matty can decide what the ‘yes’ is to and for. ‘And when I’m done with school,’ you say hesitantly, nervous about the implications of what this might mean, ‘when I’m coming home, if you still feel the same way, we can talk about it. I don’t want you to ignore every opportunity just because something might happen in four years. Live your life, Matty. And if something happens when I come back, then–’

‘Yeah,’ Matty says quietly, kissing your forehead and pulling his hands away, reaching into his pocket and grabbing another cigarette. ‘I’m going to stay out here; you can go in.’

‘Okay,’ you say, drawing back from him and walking towards the front door, and the further you walk away, the more it feels like you’re walking away from what should’ve been so good.

And this is where you are, four and a half years later. Home is calling, you’re excited to be where you know for a while, especially for the holidays, before heading down to London and making a life there on your own. All of your bags are packed, lined against the wall. Only a few more boxes need to be shipped to your new address, and you have time to do that tomorrow before your flight in a day. All of it is coming together, except for the fact that you have to face what you’ve been actively avoiding for the last four years, because you know it’s going to be something you talk about.

And only a few minutes pass with this thought, because then the buzzer rang, you clicked the button and opened the apartment door, and before you could properly think of a greeting, you’re sucked into his arms, his entire body wrapped around you tightly. He is warm and smells so good, you swear it’s impossible that he’s just gotten off an airplane. His warmth is familiar, a sweet scent wafting over you as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and hold him, your eyes shut as you just soak in the silence. He’s quiet, as well, and you know that you both are thinking the same thing, trying to avoid the unspoken energy in the room. You wonder how long it’ll take for him to say something about it, and you wonder how long after that it’ll take you to blurt out the words that have been itching at your throat since that dreaded night you think about often, the night you regret more than anything.

Matty slowly pulls away, grabbing your cheeks and staring at you intensely, and you feel like your whole body is on fire and you can feel the heat of his breath on your mouth, and you want nothing more than to be kissing him, to feeling his lips on yours. His thumb traces your cheek, and he says, “I’m so happy you’re coming home. I’ve missed you.”

“I’m only home for a week. I move to London next week,” you say, and immediately you feel guilty for not spilling out how much you’ve missed him since you’ve been away. “I’ve missed you, more than you could believe.” His smile is enough to make you feel like your feet are floating above the ground, and you have to step away, reaching for a mug on the counter and taking a sip of the warm tea. “I’ve come down with a cold, I’m sorry. I know we have to share a bed and all, but I’ll try to stay away from you.”

“Don’t worry about me, darling. I mean it,” Matty says surely, taking a look around the empty apartment. He’s been here a handful of times, coming to visit here and there and always spending the most amount of time with you that he could, even if that meant sitting and watching you write on your computer for hours. “Do you want to do anything, tonight? I don’t mind staying in if you’re not feeling well.”

“I think there’s a Walmart about thirty minutes away,” you say reaching for your phone and clicking at your screen to try and find a car to take you there. “Don’t feel like, tied to me, while you’re here. I’m okay with being alone.”

“I’m not okay with you being alone,” Matty says without a second thought, grabbing his things out of his bag and opening the door for you, waiting for you to lead the way. He follows you closely and watches you as you stare at the scenery around you. You’ve always been this way, a city person at heart, from the moment he met you, you talked about moving to the city. Granted, he didn’t know that it would be New York City, but he did always know you would wind up somewhere with hustle and bustle, and you would fit in.

“Quit staring at me,” you say, not willing to look away from the sight of the car passing over the bridge. Having to leave feels so bittersweet. On one hand, you are excited to be home, to be living in London and around your friends. On the other, you know that you’re going to miss the city you’ve fallen in love with. It’s been your true love for so long, it feels like heartbreak.

“I’m not staring,” Matty says, turning his head out the window, a smirk fighting to curve across his mouth. “You’re staring at me, now.” His smile is wide when you quickly turn away from looking at him, the view of the store coming in front of you. “Come on, sicky. I’m sure you dragged me here for a puzzle that you certainly will not finish.”

“I will finish it,” you say, rolling your eyes and climbing out of the car behind him. Matty takes your hand, and you can feel electricity and heat wash through your body, entangling your nerves. “I want an artsy one. Not sure which one, but something pretty.”

Matty nods and you walk through the store quietly, neither of you saying much. There are too many unspoken words in the air and neither of you are willing to start the conversation. Matty points towards the aisle with the puzzles, and you follow him, standing quietly as you peruse the options and try to find one that calls your name. Your eyes follow his movements, tallying the new tattoos and the significance of different ink on his skin. You always told him that you wanted a tattoo, but you were never willing to go alone.

“Ah, you can make your own puzzle with a picture,” he says, drawing you out of your trance and towards an advertisement. “Do we have time for that?”

“I don’t think so,” you say, shaking your head. “Could you grab that one? That looks easy enough,” you add, pointing towards a tree of life puzzle on the very top shelf. Matty reaches for it easily, grabbing it and handing it to you to look at. “Perfect, thank you,” you say quietly, taking it from his hands, and without a second though, you kiss his cheek. His eyes go wide, and you can see the thoughts swirling around in his head. “Matty, seriously, don’t even think about it, I’m sick. I can’t get you sick before we fly home.”

“Have I ever cared about anything like that before?” Matty says seriously, turning towards you and taking a step forward, his body dangerously close to yours. “Are you really telling me not to?”

“No,” you swallow, and you can feel every nerve inch into your throat, your heart beating so loudly you can feel it reverberating in your ears. “Are you drunk or high? I don’t,” you pause, thinking very carefully about what you’re going to say next, “this can’t be like the other times.”

“YN, I just got off a plane three hours ago.” His body is now so close, you can feel his chest against yours, his breath hot against your face. You feel suffocated in this moment, too enraptured by the way being around him feels and the way he smells and the way his eyes have not left your lips, not even once. His hands come to your cheeks, a feeling you know all too well. “Can I?”

“Please,” you whisper, and suddenly your breath is taken away by his mouth on yours. Kissing him, it feels like sharing oxygen, like flying. Kissing him, it feels like every wrong decision is right and every bad thing is good. Kissing him, it feels like coming home. Kissing him, it feels like what you should’ve been doing all along. “I want to go home,” you mutter against his lips, and you can feel him smile against you. You can’t see it with your eyes closed, but the way his mouth is leaving open mouthed kisses on your cheek, it’s easy to tell.

“Take me home.”

Three simple words that have so much meaning, so much weight. Take me home. Take me home to your house. Take me home where we can be alone. Take me home where I can finally be with you, the way I’ve always wanted to be with you. Take me home, where we can start something, we’ve been waiting our whole lives for. Take me home, where I can be yours forever.

And the tension is there when you’re getting out of the car, and when you’re walking the stairs to get into the apartment, and when you’re quietly moving about the apartment trying to avoid talking to him about what just happened at all costs. Matty shuts and locks the door behind you, watching you mill about the apartment anxiously as he’s pressed against the wall, arms folded in front of his chest. You walk around him a few times, jumping back and forth from the kitchen to grab wine glasses that you were shipping out tomorrow and a wine bottle that you bought specifically for you two to share and the puzzle on the ground next to your makeshift mattress for the next day before you leave. Until finally, he can’t take it anymore.

“I don’t care about the bloody fucking puzzle, YN,” Matty says suddenly, cutting you out of your anxious thought wheel and walking directly over to you, grabbing your cheeks, and kissing you deeply, kissing you hard. His breath feeds you, and you feel like you could exist in this bubble for a long time, never needing anything else. “I want you so badly.”

“I want you, too,” you sigh, a moan leaving your lips as his hands begin wandering around your skin. “I don’t want this to be just a one-off thing, Matty. I don’t want to be a one-off thing.”

“You have never been a one-off thing,” he says sternly, gently tugging at the hem of your shirt and pulling it above your head with ease. He’s warm, and he’s almost certain it’s not from the heat of your apartment. “I have never, ever wanted anyone the way I want you. I love you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t say ‘I love you’ back,” you say, and it’s the very first time in minutes that Matty has pulled away from you to really look at you. His heart softens, his thumb brushing under your cheek as a stray tear falls. All the emotions all at once are hitting you, and it feels like it’s too much, but you don’t want to stop, you don’t want this moment to end. It’s you and him. You and Matty, for the first time, and it feels just how it’s supposed to feel, “I’m sorry I didn’t say it back, back then, and I hope it’s not too late now to say it.”

“It’s not, baby. It’s not too late,” he assures you, leaning his forehead against yours and breathing against your lips. “I am still in love with you. I am in love with you. Nothing’s changed. Nothing about that has changed four years later.”

“I love you,” you say, and it’s easy, the words are easy coming from you to him. Matty smiles, leaning down and kissing you passionately, his hands reaching under your thighs and lifting you onto his waist, carrying you a few steps backwards to where your makeshift bed is. “I’m sorry about the bed.”

“Don’t care about the bed,” Matty whispers against your lips, setting you on your feet and working quickly to undo the buttons on your jeans. He’s skilled at this, you’ve noticed, the multitude of times he’s hurriedly worked to undo your jeans at family parties seemingly coming in handy, at this very moment. He’s heard you moan before; he’s made you orgasm, but it’s never gone this far, it’s never been this, and there’s an anticipation killing both of you that you are not willing to play with. “I have a condom in my wallet.”

“You’re an asshole,” you laugh, shaking your head as you kick your jeans to the side and take a seat on the edge of the makeshift mattress. All you have on is your bralette and a seamless pair of underwear, not exactly the most ideal pairing, but something about it makes this feel even more perfect. Nothing was expected or certain. Like you two. Matty scrambles in his bag for the condom, and you can’t help but laugh watching him. He’s hurried and frantic and you have to remind him, “I am quite cold over here, but I’m not going anywhere. Take your time, I guess.”

“I’m doing my best,” Matty says with a grunt, swearing once or twice before smiling widely and waving the packets in his hand excitedly. “And I’m not an asshole, I just had very high hopes.”

“Extremely high.”

“You’re naked, aren’t you? Doesn’t seem like such a far-fetched hope to me.”

“And my clothes are right there,” you reply back with a smirk, pointing at your jeans and shirt piled together in the corner of the room. “Can put them back on in two seconds and we can go back to that lovely puzzle and my bottle of wine.”

“I’ll run into traffic.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

Matty shrugs off his sweater and his jeans, carefully leaning down and climbing over you, his warmth covering you completely. “I love you.” His face leans down and kisses you, the condoms forgotten somewhere beside you and the duvet at the edge of the mattress getting pulled over his back to cover you in extra warmth. “I would’ve waited a lifetime for you. I’m so glad I didn’t have to, though. That might’ve killed me.”

“I wouldn’t have made you wait that long,” you assure him, your hands holding his cheeks and threading through his hair. His hips dip against yours, and you can feel him hard and heavy against your core. You want him, and you don’t think you can wait any longer. Your hands move from his cheeks, trailing down his chest, pushing his boxers down his thighs. He pushes the material off his legs, leaning back onto his feet to look at you in front of him. “I clearly didn’t think this would happen. I’m not entirely, you know, ready.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Matty says, his hands reaching behind your back and slipping your bralette off your body, his mouth immediately kissing alongst your chest, ghosting over your breasts and down your stomach. His hands are warm against your, but the goosebumps rising along your body from his touch is invigorating. He drags your underwear down your legs, kissing inside your thighs sweetly before climbing back up to meet you face to face. “I have so many things I want to do with you. You are just so beautiful.”

“You have time, Matty. I’m not going anywhere. I love you.”

Matty fumbles with the condom wrapper for a moment, earning a giggle and a muffled laugh from him as he lays his hand over your mouth to quiet the laughter. He leans over you when it’s fully wrapped around him, his mouth heavy on yours. His fingers gently drag alongst your center, your arousal coating his fingertips and earning a moan from both of you. His cock moves easily against you, you’re so ready for him and anticipating this, that all you want is for him to finally be with you. “This is it. You’re coming home. I love you. And you love me. It’s us, now.”

“Us,” you whisper, a moan escaping your throat as he slowly inches himself into you, his forehead falling to yours and his mouth desperately finding yours to kiss you, to swallow your moans and your breaths and feel every part of you that he can. Matty’s arms are next to your face and your feel held and safe with him, like there’s nothing that could possibly go wrong while you’re like this. His hand slides between you, rubbing at the nerves between your thighs and kissing along your neck, your fingers dragging alongst his back as your legs circle around his waist, bringing him impossibly closer. His curls are clinging to his forehead with sweat, and you feel like your body is on fire, but it’s something you’ve craved for so long that you’re basking in it, that it’s everything you’ve wanted to feel. His thrusts are driven and hitting the right places and you think that it’s quite possible that you were always made to be together, that his body was made for you to enjoy and you for his. “I love you,” you whimper, your whole body tightening and your nails digging into his shoulders as your orgasm washes over you. His body stills above you, your legs still wrapped around his waist, and you can feel him release, his body easing into yours. He doesn’t want to move, but he knows he has to, and you hate the feeling of losing his warmth.

“Don’t move, baby. I’ll be right back,” he hums, kissing you sweetly as he slowly slides out and removes the condom, and he turns around when you giggle, your eyes fully fixated on his backside. “Are you staring at my ass?”

“Yes.”

“Is it nice?”

“Very.”

Matty laughs, shaking his head as he walks towards the wall and turns the heat another notch, before walking back towards you and sinking under the comforter with you. He lays on your chest, his hand wrapping around your waist, his fingers dragging along the curve of your side. “You don’t have to be so worked up, now. I know you, I know you’ve been awake all day because you were nervous about me coming.”

“I was not nervous.”

“You were nervous,” he says surely, his forearm supporting his body weight as he trails his fingers up your body and begins tracing your lips. He’s always been enthralled by your lips, by the way they feel on his. “You’re so beautiful. I can’t believe you’re mine.”

“Have you already told the guys?” you ask, turning your head slightly to give him better access to your skin, your eyes remaining closed and only listening to the sound of his voice. Outside, the stars and the moon are shining through the window, casting a perfect light over you.

“Told them what?”

“Don’t play dumb, Matthew.”

“They knew at Walmart.”

“I hate you so much,” you say, trying to hide the smile and the laughter that is fighting its way to the surface with your hands covering your face. Matty pulls your hands away, and you look at him, your eyes meeting his softly. “What are you looking at me like that for?”

“I have something that may make you feel better.”

“I doubt that.”

“I mean, the guys don’t know that you’ve given me head every Christmas since you moved to New York, if that makes you feel better,” he smiles, the smirk on his face telling you everything he isn’t.

“And look at that! Tradition just ended. Just in the nick of time for this year,” you say, smacking his arm and turning around in the bed to face away from him. Matty wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you into his chest and kisses your shoulder sweetly. “I’m going to be travelling a lot for work. How are we going to do it?”

“You and I can figure that out,” Matty says surely, kissing the indent of your shoulder once more before gently guiding you to lay on your back, his eyes meeting yours. “I don’t want you to see anyone else.”

“I don’t want to see anyone else.” Matty leans down to kiss you, and you hum against him, a content smile breaking apart your lips. “How many of the guys bet on this happened? I want to know.”

“I don’t think it was much of a bet of if it would happen,” he says, his fingers pushing stray strands of hair away from your forehead softly. “More of when.”

“Great! Happy to know they think I’m easy, Matthew.”

“Not my fault they can judge a situation! Think about it, darling, you can only sneak off at holiday parties so many times before someone notices.” He’s right, and you know it. “Not to mention, we weren’t very good at hiding it.” His mouth leans against your cheek when you roll your eyes, he knows he’s won this time. “I want to go to Central Park before we leave.”

“Central Park is just landscaping that people don’t take care of properly and tourists littering. It’s practically Sea World for New York City.”

“Can you do anything without posing an argument?”

“No, and now you’re in for a lifetime of arguments. That’s on you.”

Matty smiles brightly because he wouldn’t care if you argued over the simplest things every minute for the rest of his life if it meant he got to be with you.

[littleredwolf]

No Matter What

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Reader takes Bucky ice skating for the first time. 

Warnings: None. 

Words: 621

A/N: This is my first time writing for Bucky so I hope I’ve done him justice! This is just something cute and festive I wanted to try so I hope you enjoy it!

--

You scanned the ice rink with childlike glee as you approached the edge, eager to join the other skaters zig-zagging and flitting across the ice. Sparing a glance at the man beside you, you couldn't help but giggle at the mortified expression on his face. 

"You sure you still wanna do this, Buck?" You asked, squeezing his hand for reassurance. "It's okay if you've changed your mind." 

He frowned and turned to you, his expression softening when his eyes met yours. You found yourself wondering, not for the first time, if his enhanced senses granted the ability to hear your heartbeat. He never said anything (which you were grateful for) but you were sure even Clint without his hearing aid would be able to pick up your erratic heartbeat whenever Bucky was around. 

"It's on the list," he said simply, the corners of his lips twitching into an awkward smile. 

The list in question was one he'd made of all the things he'd wanted to do as part of starting his new life. During one of your many late night conversations he'd opened up and shared his dreams with you, discussing all the things he'd missed out on back in his day and all the new and exciting things there were now to explore. He'd spoken with such passion and enthusiasm that the very next day you'd gone out, bought a notebook and told him to write a list of all the things he wanted to do, watch, play, listen to, etc, and had made it your own personal mission to see to it that he got to fulfill every one. 

Today's activity to tick off was 'ice skating at the Rockefeller Center', and you were keen to get started. 

You were by no means a professional but you did consider yourself a confident skater, so had no problem stepping out onto the ice. Bucky, however, was much more reluctant, and he gripped your hand tightly as he staggered after you. 

"You're doing great!" You encouraged as you began to move backwards, taking both his hands and gently pulling him along. 

His wide eyes did not leave yours as you slowly weaved your way around the rink, everyone else a blur as you focused on keeping him steady and helping him find his balance. It was rather comical watching the super soldier with enhanced agility and strength slipping all over the place like Bambi, but he soon found his feet and even managed to let go of one of your hands after a little while. 

You spent the next hour gliding alongside one another, Bucky's confidence building with each minute that passed (though, he never did quite manage to fully let go of your hand). Of course he fell on his ass a few times - one of which he ended up dragging you down with him in a fit of giggles - but he was more than happy to get back up and give it another go each time. 

You hadn't laughed and smiled this much for a long time and the longer you stayed on the rink the more relaxed you could see Bucky becoming. It was heartwarming to hear him laughing so freely and witnessing the pure joy that crossed his face every time he'd figured out a maneuver, and a swell of emotion overcame you as you realized this was probably the first time in a long time he was fully able to be himself. 

You were proud of how far Bucky had come in his recovery, and honoured that he wanted you to be a part of that journey. And as long as he needed you, you were more than happy to be there. 

No matter what.

[beyondthesefourwalls]

Yo! Rooster + fluff + snow + "it helps me concentrate!"

Here you go, Nonny! This is very self-indulgent because the trip described is also on my bucket list.

----

warnings: fluff, coldness in the physical sense.

Baby, It's Cold Outside

It had always been a dream of yours to spend Christmas in New York City, and this year, Bradley was finally able to make it happen for you. He had gone the whole nine yards for this trip. You visited the tree in Rockefeller Center. You saw the Rockettes perform and caught a showing of the Nutcracker, and ice skated in Bryant Park. You bought enough at the holiday markets that you had to buy an extra bag just to be able to have room for everything to fly back to California. Bradley had even been able to snag tickets to a carriage ride through the city. It had been the perfect trip, bar one thing. 

You absolutely hated the cold. 

Unlike him, you were a California girl born and raised. You had barely ever been off the west coast. He had warned you of the temperature differences, but in all of your excitement at the possibility of finally marking this off your bucket list, you had assured him it wouldn’t be a big deal and that he was being overdramatic. 

And to your credit, you hadn’t complained the whole time. You had barely even let on how cold you were. Up until now, at least. 

Bradley was doing his best not to laugh. Really, he was. But it was getting harder and harder to keep silent as he watched you. It was Christmas Eve, and the two of you were standing outside in line for a popular bar that apparently had the best holiday cocktails. Your eyes were squeezed shut and your chin was tucked as far into your thick scarf as you could get it. You were bundled up in a red winter coat and your head was covered by a white knit beanie with one of those adorable poof balls on top. You rocked back and forth on your heels, and you were aggressively humming the melody to Rockin Around The Christmas Tree. 

“Baby?” he asked, humor evident in his throat, “you doing okay?” 

“Fine,” you said quickly, resuming your humming. The woman in line in front of you glanced over her shoulder, and Bradley saw how she raised her eyebrows before turning back around. He coughed to cover the chuckle that escaped. 

“You’re humming pretty loudly over there,” he commented. If you had bothered to open your eyes, he knew you’d be glaring at him.

“Yes,” you snapped, “it helps me concentrate!” 

“Concentrate on what, exactly?” 

“Not freezing my ass off, Bradley!” 

This time, multiple people turned to look at you at your outburst, and Bradley couldn’t keep his laughter in anymore. When you scrunched up your face and elbowed him in the side, he laughed even harder, but held his arms open. “C’mere.” 

You didn’t hesitate to step as close to him as you could, burying your face in his own scarf and thick jacket. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, and after another verse of Brenda Lee, you quieted down. He heard you mumble something about the magic of his body heat and laughed again. You lifted your face from his chest to glare up at him, your nose scrunched in mock annoyance. 

Bradley saw the moment it happened, and your wide eyes and gasp quickly followed. You tilted your head back even further and took a step away from him as you stared up at the sky. 

“Oh my god,” you breathed, your voice full of wonder, “it’s snow.” 

A soft look took over his face. You had never seen snow before, and the streets of New York had been without it when you arrived. He had thought you’d go the whole trip without experiencing it, and as watched you take in this moment, he’s so glad that the weather forecast seemingly changed. 

You twirled in the drizzle of the slowly falling flakes, giggling at the feeling of them hitting your nose and cheeks. It was almost like you had forgotten how cold you were. You turned back to him with a wide smile on your face. “Baby, it’s snowing. A white Christmas in New York!” 

“Is it everything you wanted?” he asked. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. “And more. So much more.” 

You kissed for a long moment, shuffling as the line moved forward. Even as you remained pressed together, another shiver went through your body. Even if your mind hadn’t caught up yet, clearly your body had processed that the magic of the falling snow wasn’t enough to keep your internal temperature up. 

“Hey baby?” He started.

“Hmmm?” 

“How about we ditch this line and go back to our room? It’s warm there, and we can order hot chocolate instead.” 

You pulled away from him faster than you ever had, grabbing his hand and starting to power walk down the sidewalk. “Oh, for the love of God. Yes. Please.” 

word count: 818

-----

Wanna participate in the party? See details here.

[jerzwriter]

With Warning Part 5: Captain Lahela & a Serving of Common Sense

Book: Open Heart (Book 2 Timeline) Characters: Tobias Carrick & Casey, Bryce Lahela Rating: Teen Words: 1,800 Series Summary: Found here it changes a little here - both the warnings, and in this part, who it's being delivered to. Chapter Summary: Casey's just returned from her holiday getaway with Tobias, and she's happy to have the apartment to herself... so of course Bryce shows up! An animated conversation with her friend, gives her food for thought. A/N: I'm going in a little different direction... this was supposed to be all about the friends warning Tobias to stay away from Casey - and it started that way - but now, the warnings are changing.

The timing of this story is just after parts two, three, and four of Christmas Through Your Eyes and the Epilogue of that series takes place after this fic. (The chronological list of fics in the "From Here to There" part of their journey. 😊)

With Warning Masterlist Tobias x Casey Masterlist || My Full Masterlist

The alarm on Casey’s phone blared for the ninth, or maybe it was the tenth time... but it had done the trick. After rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she stumbled to the bathroom with a delirious smile... she hadn’t been dreaming after all. The Christmas trip with Tobias really happened, and as she splashed cold water onto her face, she realized that for the first time since the attack, she had gone for days simply being... happy.

Her friends were already at work, and she relished being home alone. She adored her roommates, but she knew what awaited her. They would have questions. They’d want to see the photos still tucked away in her phone. And she wasn’t naïve; she knew she’d have to face them when they returned home later, but right now, she needed time to process it all herself.

Returning to her room with a piping hot cup of tea, she stared at the unpacked suitcase lying at the foot of her bed and decided reality could wait a bit longer. Hopping back in bed and looking at the photos from her trip sounded far more enjoyable.

She startled when the phone rang, and a photo of her mother appeared. Maybe it was because she wouldn’t be speaking to her face to face, or maybe because her mother hadn’t had a front-row seat to her budding friendship with Tobias, but Casey decided this might just be the test run she needed.

“Hey, Mom!” She gushed. “Yeah, got back late last night.” “Oh, it was wonderful! We ended up going to New York, too... can you believe I lived there for four years and never saw the Rockefeller Center Tree? Finally crossed that off the bucket list!” “No, neither of us were on social media. We wanted to live in the moment... but I’ll get some pictures up soon.” “I am happy, Ma... I haven’t been this happy in some time!”

Her neck twisted toward her bedroom door as she heard a noise in the hall; that’s where she found Bryce standing with a bowl of cereal already in hand. He went to walk off when he saw she was on the phone, but Casey waved him in.

“Mom, I have to go, Bryce is here. But I’ll call you later and fill you in on all the details.... Of course I'll tell Bryce you said hello, Ma. I love you, too!”

He had already settled into the beanbag chair in the corner of her room, a goofy grin on his face as he enjoyed his... well, Elijah’s Captain Crunch. “You didn’t have to hang up on my account,” he said between spoonfuls. “I would have waited.”

“No... just as well,” Casey insisted. “My mom was five minutes away from asking why we didn’t see her when we were in Philly, and I could do without answering that for now.”

“Mmhhm. So, why didn’t you see her?”

“Same reason we didn’t visit Tobias’s family – that’s not what the trip was about. It was just for fun.”

“And was it?” he asked sincerely. “Fun, that is?”

“It was, Bryce!” She answered more quickly and enthusiastically than she had planned. “I can’t believe it, but it truly put me in the holiday spirit. I didn’t see that coming!”

“I think that might have been Tobias’s plan all along,” Bryce winked. “I should thank him because I love seeing you this happy again... it’s legit, right? You know you don’t have to put on an act for me.”

“I know that,” Casey smiled, taking a seat next to her friend on the rug. “I’m not pretending... I honestly am starting to feel alive again.”

Bryce put the nearly empty cereal bowl aside and gave Casey’s hand a squeeze.

“That’s great because I’ve missed you! It was nice of T to take you on this trip.”

“It was,” she grinned, not comprehending why her cheeks became so flushed.

Bryce lifted the bowl again, gathering the tiny bit of milk that remained on his spoon. “You two have gotten really close, huh?”

“Well, it’s not like that,” Casey replied in a defensive tone. “We’re just friends.”

“OK... I didn’t insinuate you were anything more.”

“I know,” she sighed. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. But, most of the time, when I’m good friends with a guy, everyone assumes it’s something more. And it’s kind of stupid, honestly, because I’m bi... so do people assume I'm fucking anyone I’m good friends with?”

Bryce offered an understanding nod. “As someone who identifies as pan, I can say with full authority... yes. Yes, they do. But fuck them.”

“Fuck who?” Casey asked. “All my friends?”

“No!” he laughed, tossing a pillow her way. “Fuck the idiots who think that. Well, don’t fuck them... screw them. No, don’t screw them either... you... you know what I mean!”

“I do,” Casey giggled. “And you’re right, screw them! Tobias and I love spending time together. We make each other laugh; he’s really helped me these past few months.”

“All good things!” Bryce agreed.

“Exactly! But that doesn’t mean we’re more than friends. I mean, sure, we kissed a couple of times...”

Bryce’s eyes opened wide. “Wait... you what?”

“We kissed. But it’s wasn't a big deal! I mean, you know that. We’ve kissed, and we’re just friends, right?”

“I mean... it was a long time ago...”

“I know, but when we kissed... what were we?”

“Friends.”

“Right!” she snapped her fingers. “And you didn’t think any more of it, did you?”

“Uh...no... I didn’t. Did you?”

“Of course not! Because it was no big deal... Just like me and Tobias. It’s no big deal because we’re just friends.”

“Uh-huh,” Bryce nodded, noting this was her second declaration in seconds. “If you say so.”

“I do!”

“Good!" Assuming they were moving on, he changed the topic. "So, what city was best? Did DC win, or did Philly?”

“Best city, easy,” she winked. “Philly. But the best Christmas tree... that went to New York. Honestly, New York is so magical at Christmas. We even took a carriage ride through Central Park!”

“That’s so cool! I’ve always wanted to do that!”

“Yeah, I made sure the horse was well cared for first...”

“Of course you did,” he chuckled. “I’d expect nothing less.”  

“I'm so glad I got to share that with T. It was... perfect! It started snowing, and I swear, it felt like we were in a movie! That's when I saw the mistletoe, so... you know... the kiss.”

“So, your first kiss was on the carriage ride?”

“No, that was our second kiss. But it wasn’t a big deal.”

“Uh, huh,” Bryce muttered. “Uhm, Casey have you ever thought...”

“I mean, we only kissed once before that! Last month... outside of the bookstore in Cambridge. And that’s only because I asked him to!”

“You...asked him... to... kiss you?”

“Yes! Because it had been such a long time since I had been kissed... or anything, really...  and I just wanted to know if I could feel something again, you know? But...”

“I know... I know..." Bryce injected. "It didn’t mean anything.”

“EXACTLY! I'm glad we're on the same page!"

Bryce studied Casey carefully, scratching his head.

“So. Why Tobias?”

“Huh?”

“If it was just a kiss between friends... meaning nothing... why did you ask him? You could have asked me? Elijah? Jackie... any of the roomies. But you asked... Tobias.”

“Well, he and I kissed before. You know, back when we were dating... but those were very, very different. Totally different kinds of kissing! So, it made sense.”

“But we’ve kissed before, too,” Bryce smirked. “So, why didn’t you ask me?”

Casey returned his smirk with one of her own. “Do you want me to kiss you, Bryce?”

“No,” he snickered. “I’m just trying to understand your thought process in choosing Carrick.”

“I don't know... it just felt right...”

“Two times. It felt right... two times.”

“Yes! But we agreed not to do it again because we don’t want it screwing us up. We’re just friends... it didn’t mean anything!"

“So you've mentioned,” Bryce rubbed his chin. “But, Casey?”

“Yeah?”

“What if it does?”

Casey turned to him with as much panic if she had been a deer in the wild and Bryce's car was careening toward her on a dark night. “What... what do you mean?”

“I’m just saying... would it be so awful if the kisses meant something?”

“Bryce,” she gasped, lowering her voice even though they were alone. “No... I’m... I’m not ready for anything like that. And, besides... he’s just my friend... there’s nothing more to it.”

“Yes, for the dozenth time. He's just your friend,” he smiled. “Whatever he means to you, that’s for you to figure out... if you want to figure it out at all. I’m just saying, it’s your choice... and if you decide he does mean more, that’s all right, too.”

A slight crinkle appeared on her brow when she turned to Bryce, words she hadn't intended to speak falling from her lips.

“Do you... do you like him?”

“I’m just getting to know the guy... he’s more of your friend than mine. But I have to admit, he’s impressed me. He’s been really good to you, and you appear to make each other happy. Isn’t that what they say it’s all supposed to be about?”

“I... I guess... but we are just friends.”

“And you’re my friend, Casey. So if that’s what you say, I believe you.”

“Thank you,” she smiled in relief.

 “Shit!” Bryce cursed, noticing the time on the clock. “I didn't realize it had gotten so late. I've got to get going; I have a date."

"Oh," Casey grinned. "Care to share the details?"

"Nope."

"Do I know them?"

"No comment."

“Uh-huh,” Casey teased. "I have my ways of finding out, you know! Just like Elijah can find out about his Captain Crunch."

"Are you seriously blackmailing me?"

"No," she shrugged. "I mean, I'm blackmailing you, but just for fun. Your secret is safe with me."

Delighted to see his friend bantering and laughing again, he pulled her into a hug.

“It is great having you back, Case. Promise me you won't go away again.”

“I’ll try not to," she said squeezing him tighter. "I promise.”

“And Case... about Carrick.”

“Bryce!”

“I know, I know, but listen! Sometimes, you overthink things way too much.  Try not to do that... just... just go where you're happy. That's what it's all supposed to be about.”

“I’ll take that into consideration.”

“That’s all I ask,” Bryce said before heading to the door. “Well, that, and don’t tell Elijah about the Captain Crunch....”

Casey crossed her heart with a grin. “It’s our little secret."

~~~~~~

Just one more "warning" left. Thanks to those who are reading!

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.

[hotmentransformed]

Live from New York

Standing in line to board your flight, you basked in the feeling of possibility. From here on out, anything could happen. After years of working minimum wage at Dairy Queen, you had finally saved enough money to move to New York City. You loved your small town in Iowa, but there was something magical about the Big Apple. There, you could start over and be somebody new. After high school, you wanted to go to college. Some prestigious university would've been your dream, like Harvard, Yale, or Fordham. You had the grades, but you couldn't afford to pay tuition. So you stayed. Luckily, the DQ was hiring, and you got decent pay. By no means were you living large, but you got by. Now, with enough money saved up, you bought a one-way ticket from Des Moines to JFK. You had reached out to a friend living in the city, and they agreed to let you stay with them for a little bit until you found a job and your own place. Armed with just your backpack filled with a couple hundred bucks, some clothes, and a dream, you boarded the flight.

Once you landed in Queens, you desperately navigated the terminal, trying to find your way to the E train into Manhattan. Finding the station, you waited patiently for the subway to arrive. Turning your backpack onto your stomach, you pulled it tightly into your torso. Everything you owned was in that bag, you couldn't bear to lose it. The roar of the approaching train filled your ears, and it skidded to a stop in front of you. The doors opened, and you found the car absolutely packed. You had never seen so many people in one place all at once. Forcing your way into the car, and finding a place to stand near the opposite door, you kept a close eye on the screen, waiting until the 5th Avenue and 53rd Street stop appeared. Then, as the subway stopped and the doors opened, you clutched your backpack and stepped onto the platform.

Exiting the station, you were engulfed by the sounds and sights of Midtown. Your friend lived in a small one-bedroom near 50th and 6th, right in the center of everything. Walking around, you found yourself enamored with the tall buildings and the busy people walking extremely fast. The route you were taking to your friend's apartment took you right past Rockefeller Plaza. Being the tourist you were, as soon as you passed the sign for NBC studios, you decided to pull your phone out of your backpack. Reaching in and then throwing your backpack over your shoulder, you looked up at the words. Growing up, you had seen this marquis on television, and now it was really here. Lifting up your camera, you snapped a photo.

Just as the shutter clicked, a man ran up from behind you and snatched your bag. "Hey!" you screamed. Without stopping, they continued to sprint and turned the corner before you even thought to run after them. Shit. Now what? Looking at the doors of the studio, you figured that they must have security cameras. They could help you. I mean, after all, everything you owned was in that bag. Stepping through the glass doors, you were astounded by the vast ceilings and smooth architecture. You were definitely in the big city.

Approaching the desk, before you could even open your mouth, the attendant looked up at you and gasped. "Sir, you're late, we need to get you upstairs now!" Before you even had the chance to respond, you were whisked away, being led towards an elevator. Shoving you into an elevator, the attendant mashed the button that said "8H." Looking dumbfounded, you opened your mouth to speak, but just as you did the doors shut and you began to ascend into the building.

This was weird, but hey, you had nothing else to lose. It's not like you were breaking in, you were put here. Once you got off the elevator, you would explain exactly what happened, and they would help you find security to figure out how to get your backpack back. As the elevator doors opened and you opened your mouth to speak, two female stylists rushed in and began ushering you through the hallways. The taller one began chastising you for running late as usual, without letting you get a word in. Giving up, you let them guide you into a dressing room. There, you were shoved into a seat. Finally, with the hustle and bustle finished, you finally had a chance to speak. "What's happening?" You managed to finally ask. The stylists looked at each other amused. Without saying a word, they reached towards your body and ripped off your clothes, leaving you nude apart from your underwear.

"Hey! What was that for?" You screamed at the pair. The shorter one explained. "We don't have time to take them off, Sir. Now hold still." The tall one pulled a white jar out of her bag, and the two began applying some sort of cream all over your chest. As the cream made contact with your skin, it began to heat up. As it did, firm muscles began pushing their way from your torso. Thick pecs formed a shelf and dark hair spread its way across them. The stylists massaged the cream into your arms, which flexed with new strength and were covered in that same hair. Your hands cracked as they grew large and manly. You were left with a thick beefy upper body.

The stylists massaged the cream into your feet, which grew and expanded, dark hairs emerging from the tops. After applying the cream to your calves, they stretched and ballooned as well. Your thighs were next, the short one was intensely working her hands around your thighs and shoved her hands under where you were seated. The cream made your legs thick and hairy, and your ass lifted you upwards on the chair. The short one continued to massage your thighs as the tall one applied the cream to your face. Your teeth whitened and your jawline sharpened. Your eyes lightened to a piercing blue. The tall one massaged your scalp, as your hair thickened and became immaculately styled, your head felt fuzzy. You remembered attending Harvard? No, you could never afford that. You were from rural Iowa. The shorter stylist lifted her hands from your thighs and pulled down your underwear, revealing your cock. Reapplying more cream to her palms, she began to massage your cock. Your head felt even fuzzier as the pleasure built up. You weren't from Iowa, you were from Staten Island. Your dick grew longer with each tug. You were married, and your wife loved your amazing body. The pleasure built up even more. Shit, everyone loved your amazing body. With one final tug, your thick cock shot out ropes of cum, and with it, every memory you had of your previous life. You lived in New York now.

The shorter stylist pulled out a towel and began to wipe your thick and muscled body clean, as the taller one grabbed your tailored suit off of the hanger. Standing up, you lifted your thick legs as the stylists pulled your pants on. You lifted your thick arms outward, exposing your forested armpits, as your dress shirt was brought onto your body. The two stylists buttoned you up. Lifting your arms again, you felt the fancy jacket pulled over you. Sitting down again, you were handed your tie. As you tied, the shorter stylist lifted your large feet into dress socks and placed them in your shoes. Once you finished tying your tie, you stood up, and without acknowledging the two women, you turned towards the door and began walking through the halls. You knew exactly where you were headed. As you reached the backstage area, a man placed your mic on your jacket. Finding your seat, you heard the intro music play. This was your job. The audience was applauding for you. You read your cue card.

"Welcome to Weekend Update, I'm Colin Jost."

[edwinspaynes]

Hi! How do you think the TLH characters/couples spend the Christmas holidays? Especially in the future when they have families

Oh this is so cute! I've honestly always thought that the group would all go to the Institute Christmas Party together on Christmas Eve. But then they would spend time with their significant others (and the children they had together when appilcable) on Christmas Day.

So, we'll go with Christmas Day!

James and Cordelia spend the entire evening reading Dickens's Christmas stories together. They take turns reading and do all the voices, and when their three children arrive into the world, they do it with them, too. I also think they exchange romantic gifts with each other and decorate the house for the holidays, have a Christmas tree with their kids (Two girls and one, the youngest, a boy). They make ornaments together and put them onto their tree.

Thomas and Alastair will probably go off on a holiday somewhere. No kids. I think that later in their life they enjoy Portaling to NYC and ice skating together in the Rockefeller Center (they're glamoured, no lines.) But the Rockefeller Center didn't exist until they were in their late 40s, so until then? I think they do lots of fun things. I think they have a gingerbread house and Thomas dabs icing on Alastair's nose so he gets all grumpy about it. I also think they get a tree and Thomas's half always looks so lopsided and Alastair's is so aesthetically pleasing.

Matthew spends the holidays with his partner, probably Sylvain, in a way that is authentic to them as a couple. Imo, no kids. I will get back to you in the fall if you remind me, after A Sea Change!

Ari and Anna go to little Christmas festivals with their 2 daughters. I think that Anna still enjoys groups of people, and this is an exciting way to make merry. I think that Matthew and probably-Sylvain like to join in, but they do not do so every year.

In a nice little AU where Kit lived, Grace and Christopher enjoy baking Christmas goods and giving them to their loved ones. Baking is chemistry, after all, and they want to spread happiness! They also just like to snuggle up and drink cocoa.

BTW. Shameless self-promo, but if you want to know what I think Christmas parties amongst themselves might look like, you can read this (primarily Thomastair, but also featuring Matthew, Herondaisy, Grace, and Arianna):

And its spicy Thomastair carriage-fuck spinoff (NSFW):

Here's an unrelated-to-the-above collection of flash fiction oneshots about various TSC ships and friendships:

And an unrelated Herondaisy-shopping-for-gifts oneshot:

AND another short Thomastair drabble of them skating at the Rockefeller Center as middle aged men:

[mixtapemag]

WALLOWS AT THE TODAY SHOW.

Photos by Christopher Hall

Wallows packed Rockefeller Center Friday morning for The Today Show in celebration of their new album, Model.

Running through four songs - "Are You Bored Yet?" "Bad Dream," "Calling After Me," and "Your Apartment" - the band was electric as the sun rose on New York City. A sea of fans stretched a whole city block, many in the crowd camping out over night after leaving the Bowery Ballroom show the band put on Thursday evening.

Wallows kicks off its Model Tour on August 6th in Portland before playing a sold out Madison Square Garden on August 23rd. Check out Model and everything else about Wallows over here.

Christopher Hall posts over here. Going.

[anoether-life]

14.04.1935

It is a bit ironic that one of the first posts to be published on this blog is about Emmy's death, which was today 89 years ago (and similarly the last post will be on her birthday). This will probably also be the longest post since in addition to general information about her death I will also add parts of memorial speeches and letters from her colleagues. But let us start with details about her death first.

After the initial recovery from Emmy's uterine surgery on April 10 went rather well for the first few days, on April 14 her condition suddenly worsened. One of the doctors, Dr. James L. Lichards, described it to Marion Edwards Park (the president of Bryn Mawr College) in a letter from April 24 as follows:

At operation the pelvic tumor was found to be a large ovarian cyst the size of a large cantaloupe. [...] During the early morning of her fourth post-operative day she developed a circulatory collapse from which she seemed to rally under treatment. At noon on that day she suddenly lapsed from consciousness to complete coma with loss of reflexes and a rise of temperature from 102 degrees to 108 degrees. Dr. David Riesman, who saw her in consultation, was of the opinion that, as a part of Dr. Noether’s general circulatory collapse, a blood vessel had ruptured in the region of the vital centers in her head which had caused her sudden relapse at a time when she seemed to be rallying. From that point, Dr. Noether rapidly failed in spite of every effort to save her.

According to Dr. Brooke M. Anspach, another one of Emmy's doctors, it was in fact very likely that Emmy would have died in the near future, if not from complications with this surgery. In her letter to Marion Park from April 15 she states it as follows:

If it is any comfort I may tell you that we have every reason to believe that the outcome was impossible to avoid. Dr. Noether evidently had some unrecognizable disability which would have made itself suddenly manifest without any more exciting cause than her usual routine of work. Unfortunately we see every once in awhile one of our friends apparently in good health suddenly stricken; it would have been the same with her some time. Without doubt the operative procedure hastened it but of course the operation was necessary and if the tumor had not been removed it alone would have been sufficient to have cause her death.

Emmy's death came as a shock to everyone, especially since Bryn Mawr, the Rockefeller Foundation, and Princeton were in deep talks to transform Emmy's temporary appointment at Bryn Mawr into a permanent position. Marion Park held a smaller funeral service at her home with some of Emmy's friends and colleagues on April 17 and there was a larger memorial service in Goodhart Hall, Bryn Mawr College, on April 26, 1935.

There are two memorial accounts I would like to highlight here, the first of which is from a letter by Albert Einstein to the New York Times, which was printed in the Times on May 3, 1935:

In the judgment of the most competent living mathematicians, Fräulein Noether was the most significant creative mathematical genius thus far produced since the higher education of women began. [...] Her unselfish, significant work over a period of many years was rewarded by new rulers of Germany with a dismissal, which cost her the means of maintaining her simple life and the opportunity to carry on her mathematical studies.

The second one is from an obituary printed in the Bryn Mawr Alumnae Bulletin from May 1935:

Professor Brauer, in speaking recently of Miss Noether’s powerful influence professionally and personally among the young scholars who surrounded her in Göttingen, said that they were called the Noether family, and that when she had to leave Göttingen, she dreamed of building again somewhere what was destroyed then. We realize now with pride and thankfulness that we saw the beginning of a new ‘Noether family’ here. To Miss Noether her work was as inevitable and natural as breathing. A background for living taken for granted; but that work was only the core of her relation to students. She lived with them and for them in a perfectly unselfconscious way. She looked on the world with direct friendliness and unfeigned interest, and she wanted them to do the same. Mathematical meetings at the University of Pennsylvania, at Princeton, at New York, began to watch for the little group, slowly growing, which always brought something of the freshness and buoyance of its leader.

After Emmy's body was cremated, her ashes were placed under the walkway around the cloisters of M. Carey Thomas Library at Bryn Mawr College.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Cockrum’s support allowed the Old Globe in San Diego to stage “Henry 6,” a large-scale, two-part adaptation of Shakespeare’s three “Henry VI” plays. Credit...Ariana Drehsler for The New York Times

+

A Former Monk Who Won Powerball Is Giving Millions to Theaters

Roy Cockrum has donated more than $25 million to 39 theaters, helping the Old Globe in San Diego stage the one Shakespeare play it had yet to produce.

By Robin Pogrebin

Reporting from San Diego.

Aug. 3, 2024

When Roy Cockrum, a one-time struggling actor and a former monk, won a $259 million Powerball jackpot in 2014, he decided to splurge on something a bit out of the ordinary: supporting nonprofit theater.

He set up a foundation that has given away $25 million to 39 American theaters so far, which is why he found himself the other night at the Old Globe in San Diego. He was there to watch the premiere of a production he supported to help the theater reach a milestone: a large-scale staging of the only Shakespeare play it had yet to produce, an adaptation of the somewhat rarely performed three “Henry VI” plays.

“The question I put to artistic directors is, ‘Is there a project you’ve always dreamed of doing that you couldn’t afford?’” Cockrum, an apple-cheeked, snowy-haired 68-year-old, said in an interview. “To help artistic directors dream bigger than they would otherwise.”

At a time when nonprofit theaters across the country are struggling with rising costs, fewer subscribers, smaller audiences and dwindling corporate philanthropy, Cockrum’s generosity stands out.

“He’s an inspiration to other philanthropists at a time when our field is really struggling and where we need innovative ideas about philanthropy to try to move the field forward,” said Barry Edelstein, the Old Globe’s artistic director. “We’re not going to solve the structural financial problems facing the sector through Bernie Sanders-style $27 contributions. It’s going to take really significant infusions at the scale that Roy is doing them.”

Over the last decade, the Roy Cockrum Foundation has supported American theaters including the Goodman and Steppenwolf in Chicago as well as the Guthrie in Minneapolis. One production it helped finance, “Prayer for the French Republic,” produced by Manhattan Theater Club in New York, was nominated earlier this year for a Tony Award for best play.

Cockrum’s path to becoming a major theater benefactor was anything but typical.

He was originally drawn to acting, doing plays as a high school student in Knoxville, Tenn., and later earning a degree in theater from Northwestern in 1978. After stints at the Virginia Shakespeare Festival and at the Actors Theater of Louisville as an apprentice, he worked in Chicago and then New York, where he did some commercials and appeared in the cultish Off Broadway hit “Vampire Lesbians of Sodom.” He supported himself through day jobs, including waiting tables at Charley O’s in Rockefeller Center, hand modeling and proofreading financial documents.

But the grind took its toll.

“After 21 years in New York as an actor, it wasn’t as much fun,” Cockrum recalled. “And 9/11 happened, and there were lots of sirens going on all the time and I was out of work and all that was on TV were firemen’s funerals.”

Looking for respite, he went on a five-day silent retreat at Holy Cross Monastery in New York’s Hudson Valley and “got hooked.” In 2002, he became Brother Roy, entering the Episcopal monastery of the Society of Saint John the Evangelist in Cambridge, Mass., becoming a postulant and a novice.

While on a 2004 visit to London, Cockrum was moved by Nicholas Hytner’s sizable production of “His Dark Materials” at the National Theater. He began thinking about how in Europe, government support of the arts makes such big stagings possible, while theater in the United States depends on commercial backers or private philanthropy.

“I thought, should I ever have two nickels to rub together, I would try to help fill the gap that exists for nonprofit theaters in America,” he said.

It was around this time that he decided not to take the vow to remain a monk for the rest of his life, so he could return to Tennessee to care for his parents, who were in declining health. “I decided I was needed more in Knoxville than in East Africa,” he said.

It was back in Knoxville that he picked up a Powerball ticket at a Kroger grocery store — and won $259 million. “I fell to my knees,” he recalled.

What he did next was shaped by his experience in the monastery. “You live under a vow of poverty for a while and then come into a great deal of money — how you decide to spend that money is affected by that view of the world,” he said.

To collect the money sooner, he opted to take the jackpot as a smaller lump sum of $158 million (minus 25 percent after taxes) so that he could start his foundation, which has a small board of directors and an executive director.

Cockrum has personally given to other charitable causes, including Doctors Without Borders and a religious camp for the Episcopal diocese. He is on the board of the Knoxville Symphony, where he is the primary sponsor of its Chamber Classics Series. And Cockrum has treated himself a bit, spending some of his winnings on “luxury travel” and an electric BMW iX. But the foundation’s only focus is theater.

Every board meeting begins with a reading of the mission statement and a quote from Albert Camus: “Without culture, and the relative freedom it implies, society, even when perfect, is but a jungle. This is why any authentic creation is a gift to the future.”

Tax forms show the foundation’s gifts as ranging from about $25,000 to more than $1 million. And at a time when many nonprofit theaters are trying to save money by mounting shows that require only one or two actors, Cockrum’s foundation gravitates toward large productions. “A large show means a lot of people working,” Cockrum said.

Theaters have to be invited to apply for funding. The foundation keeps up with the activities of regional theaters all over the country, and asks institutions how it might help them realize their most ambitious theatrical goals.

For the Old Globe, the answer was Shakespeare’s “Henry VI” plays.

The Old Globe — inspired by the Globe, the London theater where a number of Shakespeare plays were first performed — opened in 1935 in Balboa Park, with performances of abridged versions of Shakespeare’s plays as part of the California Pacific International Exposition. Over the decades it has expanded and been rebuilt, developing a strong reputation for producing new works and creating productions that wound up on Broadway, most recently “The Heart of Rock and Roll,” the Huey Lewis musical. But it remains committed to staging Shakespeare.

The theater had performed every Shakespeare play in the canon except the “Henry VI” plays. They can be a daunting challenge for many theaters because they are lesser-known by audiences, there are three plays and they require a large cast.

Edelstein, a Shakespeare specialist who took over the Globe in 2012, proposed adapting the drama into “Henry 6,” a more digestible two-part production presented on alternate nights. He wanted to use video and live music, and believed it was important to incorporate regular San Diegans, in keeping with the Globe’s ongoing community commitment “to make theater matter in people’s lives.”

More than 1,000 people ended up participating in free acting, directing and design workshops as well as making appearances in walk-on parts, video projections and recorded choral singing. And Cockrum enabled the Globe to make it all happen with infusions of money over several years totaling about $1.8 million.

“We could never put 30 people on stage without him, let alone all the community stuff,” Edelstein said, adding that Cockrum’s funds also underwrote an exhibit about the history of Shakespeare and a public art piece in the theater’s plaza. During opening weekend, Cockrum was praised by Edelstein in a toast at a preshow dinner for “reinventing how arts philanthropy works.” Many cast members thanked Cockrum at the party afterward.

While the pandemic has taken a toll on live performance, Cockrum said he remained optimistic about theater.

“I’ve been in packed houses in Minneapolis, D.C., New York — I’m seeing people loving going to the theater,” he said. “People know what solitude is now and are keen to be out and about.”

[charles-ars281-fall2023]

Christmas and the Greater Lesser Things:

All over he world, hundreds of millions of people dream of coming to New York during the Christmas season. Of those people, only hundreds of thousands get to see the Rockefeller Center tree with their own eyes. Using my proximity and privilege, I took the trip to Manhattan with my friends to see the tree. I wanted to capture the lights on the streets while also experimenting with lighting and framing in my portraiture. All of these pictures culminate in what I consider a Christmas card coming to life.

Using a long exposure for the tree gave me an interesting sparkle effect with the starlight which i wanted to be the focus of the image. Because of the volume of people, the challenge here was finding a spot where nobody would interfere with the camera. I had to take more than a few because people would walk in the frame and I’d have an unusable image.

The Dior/Saks limited time instillation is something many people will never be able to see. Here for just 25 days in HISTORY, made it something historic (as a fashion nerd) it felt necessary to capture and include due to its use of bright colors and lighting.

The row of lit trees is something you often see while walking New York City streets during Christmas time. I wanted this piece to double as both documentation and appreciation of what makes NYC Christmas what it is. Having such a staple in the project felt necessary.

In terms of the portraits, they were taken in Central Park: I wanted to utilize some different lighting styles/temperatures in the photos meant to play on the different types of lighting that you often see during Christmas.

Candle/Fireplace- Using these warm tones I wanted to invoke a homey and warm feeling.

Outdoor and White Lighting- With this I wanted to remove the viewer from the subject and create a spectacle that is meant to be looked at from distance, like Christmas lights outside of houses.

Tree Lights- We actually hopped a fence and climbed a tree for this, but I wanted to get close and into the tree to capture an interesting angle. Often times we stare at trees straight on and I wanted to convey the inside and capture a different effect.

[taevisionceo]

TAEVision 3D Design Applications Fashion Music NY NYC 'Dreams in RockefellerCenter - Famous Album' Fashion Music in NY NYC Manhattan ▸ TAEVision Engineering on Pinterest ▸ TAEVision Engineering on Google Photos

Data 374 - May 19, 2023

[taste-thewaste]

Honesty hour - tell me a favorite memory, and your biggest dream for the future. 🫶

a favorite memory...in 2016 my irl bestie and I went to New York for 3 days to celebrate our tenth anniversary (that's a thing we do lol we celebrate our friendship anniversaries-we're going on a cruise in March to celebrate our twentieth, a year early) and we saw my favorite band two nights in a row and just ate good food and drank and wandered around Times Square, we went to the top of the Rockefeller Center and saw Aladdin on Broadway in the second row and we were the biggest tourists and it was just. It was so nice.

My biggest dream for the future...this is going to sound so stupid and pathetic, but my biggest dream is to move out. I have a really horrible, complicated relationship with my mother and financially I'm stuck here right now, but I literally daydream about living a safe and quiet life by myself. every day with her is like living in a house made out of eggshells and it's exhausting.

wow that was way too much info lmao, thank you for the ask my friend!!

honesty hour-ask me anything

[nywxnn]

Last Minute #01

This year, you had the amazing opportunity to organize the Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree Lighting. As an event coordinator, this is something you had dreamed of doing since you got the job, as it would be a great opportunity to progress within the company. Making your way up to the top with nothing but your own hard work was motivation enough.

You thought back to the times when life was extremely hard. Living paycheck to paycheck, having to switch apartments regularly because the cost of living was beginning to be too much for you to handle. You remembered how your mother would always tell you, keep your head hung high, hard work pays off. You never wanted to admit it, but she was right. Hard work certainly was paying off.

You take a look at the picture frame on your cubicle desk where your mother was placing a soft kiss on your forehead, as you look embarrassingly at the camera. She would've been so proud of how far and hard you've worked to make it this far into your career.

Caller ID – Band

Your eyes fall down onto your phone, seeing the caller ID. The group must need help finding parking as, from your cubicle window, you can see how it's already starting to become crowded.

"Hello?" The caller on the other side questions, presumably the manager of the group.

"Hi, do you need help finding parking?" You continue looking out the window to see if you can spot any sort of parking that might be available for the group.

"I'm sorry, but the group will not be able to perform tonight. Jake, one of the members, is currently in the hospital after a fall accident." Hearing this, your heart is already dropping. You were so close to reaching a promotion, which would essentially make you the manager of your department. You know it was selfish of you to even think of your career when someone is currently in the hospital, seriously injured enough to not perform.

"Hello?" The caller from the other side questions after a long pause.

"Yes, I'm sorry, I hope Jake gets better. Please send my regards to them. As for the show, please do not worry. Thank you for your time." The manager and you exchange goodbyes over the phone. You hear the sound of the phone hanging up, slowly pulling it away from your ear, you know you're fucked.

You hear a tap on your cubicle walls, glancing over you see your boss with a small frown adoring his face. "I heard what happened."

You let out a much-needed sigh, "Yeah, one of the members had an accident and is currently in the hospital."

Your boss scans over your face for any signs of what he might presume as failure. He glances at the wall clock, before back at you, "You still have time to find a replacement before the event starts." Your boss walks away, leaving you even more anxious than before.

Disappointed with the amount of time and effort you placed into finding this band, you begin your search once again. You power up your desktop computer, typing in your password, you are met with your organized desktop home screen. You click on a folder listed as Singers for Events. You start your rampage of calling and messaging contacts to find anyone available this last minute. Contact after contact, everyone was either not answering or wasn't available this last minute.

After a whole twenty minutes of this process, you ended up on the last contact in the entire folder. Dialing in the number, you await anxiously for the caller to pick up.

Come on, Come on

"Hello?" The caller finally answers.

"Hello, this is Y/n speaking from the company NYE. There's an event for Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree Lighting today in forty minutes. Our band was forced to pull out at the last minute... Could you please consider singing for us tonight?" Knowing this is quite a lot to take in considering it's around 8, you give the caller a second to take everything in.

"I'll do it, I can pull off an acapella." Eyes widening at the answer, you silently cheer to yourself.

"Thank goodness—"

"You just need to go on a date with me after." He interrupts you.

"I'm sorry, what?" You raise an eyebrow at the compromise.

"If I'm going to perform, I want you to go on a date with me afterward." Glancing at the clock, you wavered your options. This event would definitely help your career, but did you really want to degrade yourself like that? Going on a date with a complete stranger? Not to mention, you already had your eyes on someone already.

"Fine, I'll go on a date with you after the event." Cringing at the way you said that out loud, you just hoped none of your coworkers heard you, especially your boss.

"Great! I'll see you in 15 minutes, babe." Ending the call, you fight the urge to just roll your eyes at this annoying man that better pull off the best acapella of his life.

Now having the event all settled for, you rush to the bathroom to touch up your makeup. Stepping into the bathroom, you overhear your coworkers talking. "Why did the boss let Y/n do this event? I heard the band had to bail out last minute."

The familiar voice of your coworker, Cecilia's obnoxious laugh, echoed throughout the bathroom, "Right! I heard she's sleeping with the boss, have you seen how they interact?"

Hearing the annoying conversation between your coworkers about you, you decide it's best to leave. Confrontation really was not your thing. It'd be stupid to get into a cat fight the day of this big event.

You promised yourself that once you got home you'd give yourself a nice long bubble bath complimented with your favorite wine and bath bomb.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　

With a small plate of a potato appetizer, you anxiously wait for the mysterious singer to show up. Taking the time to scroll through your socials, you stumble upon your best friends' posts.

'I love you more and more each day ♥'

Feeling a stinging pang in your heart as you continue to slide through the photos of your best friend and his girlfriend. As much as you didn't want to admit it, you felt hurt. Not by the fact that he's dating someone, but how he doesn't talk to you like he used to. The late night hangouts turned into ten minute calls if you were lucky enough.

You felt like you were slowly losing your best friend. The more you scrolled, you felt the tears slowly welling up in your eyes.

Fuck, why am I like this? You thought to yourself.

Glancing at the time, you realized that the event was set to start in exactly five minutes. Walking over to the center where all the skating equipment is kept, you dial up the number of the singer. Realizing you'd never gotten his name, you curse yourself for the minor mistake.

"Hey, babe. Miss me already?" Rolling your eyes at the pet name, you bark back,

"Stop calling me that. The event starts in five minutes, where are you?"

"Cool, ya tits, I'm at the front entrance."

"Okay, I'll meet you over there." Hanging up the phone, you rush over to the entrance of the center. Looking around, your eyes land upon a nicely dressed man. His hair tamed just enough to frame his gorgeous face, with silver jewelry adorning his body.

"Hey, are you the singer?" Getting up closer now, you could see how he easily towered over you. Gazing at your face for a few seconds, a smile formed on his face.

"Yes, I'm Jeon Jungkook." He held his hand out, offering his friendliness.

"I'm Y/n L/n. Pleasure meeting you, Jeon Jungkook." Accepting his handshake, complemented with a smile.

"What's with the formalities now, babe?"

"I'm professional, that's why. Now shall we?" He simply nods with a small grin on his face, following you as you lead the way.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　

Stepping onto the first stair leading up to the small stage, you started to feel the real pressure. You don't know whether it was because of your boss staring you down or the fact that there was a large crowd of people waiting.

Tightly gripping onto the dark metallic microphone, you take another step, reaching the top of the stage. Taking a deep breath; calming down your nerves, you began.

"Welcome, everyone, to the Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree Lighting! I can't tell you how excited I am to be here with all of you tonight. This is such a special time of year, and I know we all have so much to be thankful for," Taking a pause, gazing over the crowd for a second, your eyes meet with your best friend standing wrapped up in the arms of his girlfriend.

Although you did briefly mention to him that you were organizing this event, you never expected him to show up considering how your relationship has been lately. His soft smile he gave you sent a warm feeling rushing down in your chest. "This year's tree is truly a sight to behold. It's a towering symbol of joy and hope, and it just radiates warmth and happiness. As we gather around it, I can't help but feel a sense of community and togetherness. On behalf of the Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree Lighting Committee, I want to thank all of you for joining us tonight. I wish you all a very merry Christmas and a happy new year."

"Without further ado, I invite you to join me in welcoming Jeon Jungkook to the stage! Jungkook is an incredible performer, and I know he will bring so much joy to this evening with his beautiful voice and talented music. So let's give him a warm welcome and get ready to be charmed by their incredible performance."

Clapping as you stepped off-stage to give Jungkook his space. He took the microphone from your hand, letting his touch linger for far too long. The crowd seemed to be in awe of his beauty, as they swooned when he flashed a smile. Frankly you were too, he is a very attractive man aside from the pet names he seemed to give you on just the first conversation. Clearing his voice, he began.

"Last Christmas I gave you my heart

But the very next day you gave it away"

The memories from last Christmas came rushing back. You'd spent your past Christmas breaks with your best friend almost every Christmas, but this year wouldn't be the same. You felt like an idiot, you did want your best friend to be happy, but the thought of not being able to spend time with him like you used to made you realize how dependent you were on him.

"This year, to save me from tears

I'll give it to someone special"

Last Christmas, there was a blizzard, and you were both cooped up inside, with nothing but messily scattered candles on top of the coffee table. As you look to your left, you see a beautiful tree, surrounded by twinkling lights. The air is filled with the scent of cinnamon and vanilla, as well as the sounds of Christmas carols playing in the background. You can't help but smile as you took it all in.

You were both bundled up on the couch, watching the newest Christmas movie. And yet, despite the simplicity of your surroundings, it was one of the most memorable Christmases. You laughed, as you both discussed every detail of the movie, and you both just enjoyed each other's company.

Feeling a hand gently rub your face, you're snapped out of your thoughts. "Was my singing that great?" Jungkook lightly jokes, grinning as he does.

You didn't realize you were crying, thinking about all your memories you had with your best friend. "Oh, shut up." You swat his hand away, before rubbing the rest of your tears away.

"Ouch babe." Still grinning at you as he tended to his slightly red hand. "So, what did you think?"

"It was a beautiful performance. Seems like everyone really enjoyed it." You offer a smile, seeing as it looks like you hit him a little too hard.

"I'm glad you liked it." Taking a pause as he looked you over carefully, "You want a hug? You look like you need it." Simply nodding your head as the tears began to flow back into your eyes. Entering his embrace felt like never ending warmth.

Gently rubbing your back as he hummed a foreign song to you. You didn't understand why he was treating you this way, but it felt nice to just have a hug from someone.

Jungkook didn't ask why you were crying, even though he was screaming internally yearning for the reason. The light sobs emanating from you were muffled by his chest. The once perfectly ironed dress shirt was now damp with your wet tears. Funny how you're practically wrapped up in the arms of a stranger, crying your eyes out. He offered you nothing but his support in silence.

Standing in this same position for nearly five minutes, you had failed to realize that your best friend was walking towards you. "Y/n?" His voice pierced through your ears like thunder.

Slightly pulling apart from the embrace to wipe your tears, you look up at Jungkook before completely pulling apart. Facing your best friend, you offer the best smile you could. "Oh, hi Matthew." Matthew looked at you for a while, glancing between you and Jungkook.

"Hi, who's he?" A small frown adored the face of Matthew. For the past few days, Matthew hasn't really heard from you. Rather, it's quite rare to hear from you nowadays. You no longer talked to him about how things were at work, how your coworkers treated you, or the simple things like what you plan to do on the weekends. He felt like your friendship was slowly drifting away, and seeing you here standing with this man wasn't helping.

You look up at Jungkook, not sure how to respond to the question. It wasn't like you were already friends, but the situation was already awkward enough. Looking back at Matthew, his dark brown eyes pierced through you, sending shivers down your spine.

"Ah, this is Jungkook, my friend." You take the chance to glance at Matthew's girlfriend, Remy. Her arm was laced with Matthew's as she gave you a smile, a smile you knew was all too fake.

"Oh, I came to congratulate you. You did a very good job on your speech." Loosening up the tension he had in his shoulders when he first arrived, he smiled.

"Thank you, I tried my best." You smiled back, trying to ignore the burning glare Remy was giving you. "Do you want to get a drink?" Still trying to ease off the awkwardness.

"I don't mind, what about you babe?" Matthew gazed at his girlfriend, awaiting her answer.

"Sure, it would be nice to get to know Y/n and her friend more." Her all too cheerful voice gave anyway her true intentions that Matthew seemed to be oblivious to.

"Jungkook, do you want to get a drink?" Slouching his arm around you, slightly leaning against you, he grins mischievously.

"Anywhere you're going, I'm going, babe."

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿

Ordering your drinks before taking a seat at a table large enough for you all. With Matthew and Remy sitting across from you and Jungkook, the tension was suddenly back. You tried not to look up at Matthew looking intently at you, probably wondering why he's never heard of your friend.

"So, Y/n how have things been? I feel like I haven't heard from you in a while." Matthew lets out a small chuckle to cover up the bitter taste he was feeling.

"Oh, you know, it's been good. I've just been really busy these past days with the event." Taking a sip of your wine, you loathe the way it tingles your throat going down.

"How do you two know each other?" A question Matthew had been wondering since meeting this friend of yours, came out rather bluntly than intended.

"We met at a coffee shop." Jungkook slyly buds in, stealing a glance at you before smirking back at Matthew. Matthew's eyes shifted between you and Jungkook, the way he looked at you two made it seem like he knew something more was going on.

Matthew hums in response, taking another sip of his drink. Rather than daunting it in front of everyone, he made a note to himself to ask you in a more private space.

"You two got any plans for the weekend?" Remy decides to chip into the conversation. It was clear she didn't like you at all or cared about what you had planned for the weekend, regardless of how you responded.

"Not really." You think about it for a second, but there's nothing you really want to do at the moment except relax.

"Did you already forget about our date, baby?" Jungkook's voice was somehow lower than before. His head resting slightly in the palm of his propped up hand. His gaze never leaving your face, the same ridiculous smirk on his face.

"Date?" You give him a questioning look.

"Don't tell me you already forgot?"

"I thought you said you guys were just friends?" Matthew interrupts whilst glaring at Jungkook. All you could do was awkwardly glance between Matthew and Jungkook.

"Yes, he's just talking about hanging out to celebrate today." You nudge Jungkook under the table as a sign not to try something like that again. Matthew simply nods his head with no other words.

"I'm sure you wouldn't mind me and Matthew tagging along with you, to celebrate." Remy suggested. You were taken aback by Remy's suggestion, as the girl doesn't like you or makes any attempts to get closer to you. All she sees you as is her boyfriends 'needy' best friend that needs to go soon.

"Sure, if you're not busy." No, you're not sure, but this is your best friend's girlfriend and the last thing you want to do is make him think you hate her...which isn't far from the truth.

"Cool, send us the details, we have to get going." Matthew and Remy bid their goodbyes, and it's just you and Jungkook left.

"So, you like him?" Jungkook asks once he's out of earshot.

"What?! No, of course not! What would make you think that?" You blabber out. Jungkook doesn't say anything, he just gazes over your features, taking in on the slight panic you have set on your face.

"Why are you so nervous then?" He grabs his drink, bringing it up to his lips.

"What do you mean? I'm not nervous."

"Y/n baby, I can see it written all over your face. It's pretty obvious you're jealous." Jungkook chuckles as he replays the previous events. "It's a natural thing, but over a guy like Matthew? You have to do better."

"I'm not jealous or nervous. Why am I even explaining this to you? Let's just go on our date and never speak again, okay?"

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿

As you reach your apartment, you kick off your shoes at the front entrance. You drop your things done onto the couch, walking over to the kitchen to give your puppy, Milo, food.

"Ah, Milo, it's been a long day today." You exclaim as you pour the fresh pebbles into Milo's dog bowl. Milo patiently waits for you to tell her to eat.

"You can eat now, Milo." You brush her fur over as she takes the first few bites of her food. You walk over to the bathroom to wash away the sorrows of today.

Standing underneath the shower, you finally let it all out, from the rumors about you and your boss to the situation with your best friend. Time and time again, you feel hopeless in every situation you're in. You have no idea how to handle any of it, it's not like there are guides or manuals to help through this.

As you step out of the shower, you feel slightly better, the hot water having washed away the physical and emotional tension. You look at yourself in the mirror, your wet skin glistening in the light. You know that you need to take care of yourself. You promise yourself that you will do better, that you will take control of your life, one step at a time. You take a deep breath and head to the bedroom, ready for a long and restful night of sleep.

You slip into your pajamas and walk into your bedroom, collapsing onto your bed with a heavy sigh. You look around the room, taking in the cozy atmosphere. Despite everything, you feel a sense of comfort knowing that you have a safe place to retreat to.

You feel much better after letting it all out. You're finally ready for bed, as you're about to close your eyes, you hear a ring coming from your bedside table. Looking at the phone, you see,

Caller ID – Partner in crime

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿

Word Count: 3.5k 

Authors Note: Heyyy y'all this is my first time actually posting any sort of writing online. I'm doing this just for fun. If anyone is reading this please leave comments to lemme know what you think good or bad! I want to improve on my writing skills. It definitely helps with feedback. Please vote so I know that there are people reading this to continue it. Thank you!

[brutclhonesty]

HILLZHQ TASK 001.

well i hope you're proud of your big decision. i hope it's all that you want and more. now you're free from the agonizing life you were living before.

father: charles meyers mother: rachel franklin step-mother: lucy murray-meyers

her parents were two kids from crappy homes who found love and freedom in each other. they ran away together when they were sixteen, but then found out they were expecting a baby. while avett’s father wanted to become a big name in the music industry, he was forced to take whatever jobs he could find, leaving his girlfriend home with their newborn daughter.

after a few years of scraping and saving, it seemed like charles was going to make it big, & he began to be home even less, auditioning and playing gigs around the city when he wasn’t working. rachel had once dreamed of becoming an actress, but those dreams were lost in the reality of caring for avett, although the young woman began to resent her significant other for prioritizing his dreams over hers.

it wasn’t until avett was seven years old that her mother vanished one morning, taking everything except her guitar and a note apologizing to her daughter. from then on, it was just charles & avett, and the man very quickly realized he barely knew his own kid.

instead of taking that opportunity to get to know the bright, beautiful daughter he had, he hired a nanny and threw himself into work; rationalizing that he was doing it to provide for her, when in reality, all avett wanted was her father after losing her mother.

when avett became a teenager, it was clear her father never had any intention of being an involved, loving parent, and he enrolled her in a performing arts high school in new york. with a whole country between them, they grew further apart, until avett was only coming home for summers. christmas’ were spent at rockefeller center and seeing off-broadway shows, exchanging gifts with her friends and ignoring the ache inside of her when they left to see their families.

imagine her surprise when she returned home one summer to find her father had remarried- to a woman who was only a few years older than she was. as if that wasn’t a shock to the poor teenager, her new step mother was expecting a baby. avett decided then and there that when she graduated, she was moving to los angeles to become an actress and wanted nothing to do with her father’s do-over family.

[1eos]

I think your man is still in NYC BTW i saw he posted pictures of him in Times Sq and Rockefeller center, sickening! the only tourist i like and respect 😌 anyways those pics reminded me that i dreamed him last night and in my dream, i bumped into him at a field in some park and we spoke and he invited me to have a picnic with him the next day only the next day came and the other VIXX members were circling the area where i'd bumped into him the day before and where we'd agreed to meet 😭 i was so disappointed until i found some note he'd left telling me the name of some building where he was hiding out and i managed to get inside the building by lying and woke up right as i was about to meet him but there was something so fucking funny about the fact that he was actively avoiding the other VIXX boys in my dream and that my question if he was still in NYC got answered by seeing him post those pics looking like the cutest cherub cheeked tourist

the way he got done with doing all them backflips in shit for that last musical and said its time for an extended vacay girls. real. AND THIS DREAM???????????????????????? HIM AVOIDING VIXX???????? the messy hater in me giggles. heartedly. and him turning the meet up into a lil game sherlock holmes...........................scorpiocore. and yessssssss the cheeks are cheeking!!!!!!!!! his round faced slay up and down.........manhatten. absolutely no idea if that's where he was but ummm it fit in the sentence