#I somehow someway find a way to make it all about one of my fictional worlds and the voices

[mazojo]

You romanticize your classes by using colored pens and sticky notes, I romanticize my classes by somehow someway making everything and any assignment about my OCs. We are not the same.

[dallasareaopinion]

It is all phenomenal

in your head.

Writing is fun, however it is also work. I can think of a thousand stories and they run rampant inside my brain for hours, days, weeks, years, but putting them on paper can be difficult.

And I am not talking about the physical act of forcing myself to sit at a keyboard, which can be difficult too. I am talking about to make that phenomenal story work you have to make it realistic, believable, coherent (that helps), and a whole of host either points to be made, or keeps the readers attention, to keeping facts in line and drama that must be cohesive to create a story from start to finish.

I spent half a day doing research for a story I am writing. And then you start questioning how much research must be done. What is enough that a reader feels the information in the story is believable and based in some reality without boring them with details that have nothing to do with the story. And all this research only moved about half a chapter along.

And then no matter what, somehow somewhere someway you will still miss something. This is the intangible miss. What works for one reader, may only partially work or not work at all for another reader. What is too much, not just research, but story, description, dialogue or fiction? Yes, can you have too much fiction in a story. I think so. There are all these lines to be drawn, characters to be developed, stories within the story to get to where you, the author, thinks it should be. Yet again, not every reader is going to be on the same page as you.

With some physical work you know when you are successful. You can clean a window and look through it with a light behind it to see if you missed a spot or there is a streak or smudge. Everyone can see the window and pretty much come to the same conclusion it is clean or needs more work. With a story, that doesn’t happen.  Someone will be glad to tell you there is a smudge or mud spot or the edges are smeared in a story, but everyone sees it differently. And you do need to have someone or a few people point those out, but they didn’t write the story and their interpretation may not be how you want the story to be read.

In some ways writers and authors who stick to a genre can find an audience and that audience can understand a clearer picture of what you are trying to say. And yes they may have some research to do, but with sticking to this genre they know exactly how much glass cleaner to put on to clear up the spots. And over time their research is already built in to what they are doing. For example Tom Clancy became very adept in writing stories like “Hunt for Red October”. He had very specific research he could do to flesh out his story and make it very realistic for his readers. And then there is authors like Stephen King, hard to say what kind of research he did to write “The Shining”. Did he visit old hotels, study mental illness or what? I am suspecting he did some of both and much more to make “The Shining” so impactful. And he can fall back on years of writing in one genre every time he writes a new book. Somewhere early on though he had to break through that invisible barrier to find the ability to make sure his window was clean for his readers.

And professional writers have the same problem in a different way. Their audience knows the topic. They have to research in great detail and cannot have gaps or glaring errors. And then there are people who have to write for one person. Much of what attorneys write is for a judge. And each judge has their own personality. Do successful attorneys study not only the law, but also the judge?

I enjoy writing. Even after spending half a day researching it was a joy to flesh out the story with the details I included. Once I got started it was two hours later before I knew it. Yet for the life of me I have no idea what people are going to see. Or most likely people may never even see the window. And if they do, can they see my complete picture? Or what points or thoughts are covered up by inconsistencies or incorrect research or is just boring. I cannot see that because in my mind it is all phenomenal.

And switching gears I am struggling with the upcoming debate on Thursday. I do not like expressing negative thoughts or desires for people to fail. Yet I am hoping that my prediction that both Trump and Biden are going to come across as two old farts that cannot keep it together come true so the Republicans and Democrats are forced to do the right thing and give us two new candidates. I still won’t vote for either, but since so many of my fellow countrymen and women are stuck in the duopoly’s rut I can at least hope for better choices for the people that will vote Democrat or Republican until they come to their senses and realize we need new major parties. Who knows maybe the MAGA/GOP fissure may end up creating a center right party that comes up with some practical public policy, especially in regards to our economic situation. We need to cut spending, shake up the tax code, build in better protections for consumers since corporations are overly focused on stock price, not their actual business and customer. And as you know I could go on. Anyway I bet most of you aren’t going to watch anyway, but even though I hate being negative I hope this event is one big eye opening failure.

Cheers

[wiypt-writes]

Too Loose And You’ll Lose It

Ch7: Old Habits Die Hard

Part 1

Co-Written with @icanfeelastormbrewing​

Summary: The Losers head to Mexico for Pooch’s wedding but there’s something wrong with Stella…

Pairing: Jake Jensen x OFC Stella Stevenson

Warnings: Bad language and a whole heap of angst.

A/N: So this chapter is a LONG one- so it’s split into a number of parts, to be posted over the next week or so. A LOT going down, and we really hope you enjoy it as it’s our favourite one to date for these pair of dumbasses.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. We do not own any characters in this series bar Stella Stevenson and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

TLAYLI Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 6

 April 2008

Clay, Roque, Cougar and Jake arrived in Mexico on a glorious Thursday morning, two days before Pooch's wedding and wasted no time in settling into their hotel and kicking back with a few drinks, soaking up the sun and taking the chance to relax. Cougar was in his element, being in his native country and an area which he knew particularly well. That evening he took them away from the resort of Cozumel to a little village fifteen miles or so inland where they visited a few back alley bars he knew, meeting up with a couple of his friends. The Losers then found themselves roped into several games of poker, all of them losing a fairly substantial amount of money until Clay, rather sensibly, called time on the gambling to avoid Future Mrs Pooch going thermonuclear at them for gambling away any future Mini Pooches’ inheritance money. They somehow made it back to the hotel and managed to deliver Pooch safely to his intended. The man could hardly stand by the time they got back thanks to the copious amount of Tequila he had consumed, something Clay, Roque and Jensen were quick to blame on Cougar when an irate Jolene opened the door to their suite, a furious look on her face.

As it stood, the hangovers they were all suffering on Friday morning were clearly their penance for leading Pooch astray. Jake had woken up with a mouth like he had been eating sand, and had stood in a cold shower for fifteen minutes solid trying to find it in him to function like a normal human being. He headed down for breakfast ten minutes before the hotel was due to stop serving and spotted Clay, Cougar and Roque sat at a table on the outside balcony, all sporting sunglasses and looking as bad as he felt. Jensen helped himself to as much as his plate could handle from the buffet and tucked in. He was beyond thankful that the food went someway to actually settling his churning stomach as opposed to making it worse. As he downed his fourth orange juice of the morning, he felt his mobile buzzing in his pocket and he pulled it out, his lips quirking into a smile as he read the message.

"It's Stel." He announced to the table. "She says ETA about forty minutes."

"How come she isn't here already?" Roque asked and Jensen rolled his eyes.

"Agent Shit-name was working, apparently. Meant they could only fly out early this morning." He swallowed the bite of toast he had rather viciously taken at the thought of Stel’s asshat boyfriend.

"Touchy subject." Clay looked at Roque. "Pooch is still low-key pissed she missed his Batchelor party."

Roque said nothing, simply raised his eyebrows as Jensen leaned back in his chair, massaging his now full stomach. "The guy is a dick." He spat venomously.

"Yes, but there's gonna be no trouble." Cougar turned to him, tipping his hat up slightly so he could see him.

"I'm a lover, not a fighter, Cougs." Jensen grinned and Cougar gave a snort, shaking his head.

They finished breakfast and after several more coffees were eventually ushered out of the restaurant by a very harassed looking waiter. As they wandered back through the hotel lobby, Clay stopped and waved, causing Jensen to turn and look, a smile spreading across his face as he saw Stella walking through the door pulling her suitcase. He frowned at the fact asshole wasn’t carrying it for her, but as Stella approached them he realised that Evan was nowhere to be found.

“Where’s agent Shit-Name?” He blurted out by way of greeting, and Stella responded with a filthy glare, otherwise ignoring him completely. She turned instead to greet Roque and Cougar before she gave Clay a huge hug.

“Good flight, Arty?” Roque asked and she smiled at him, popping a shoulder.

“As good as it gets. But they didn’t have tomato juice. Would you believe it?”

Clay gave a huge laugh. “Since when have you drunk that stuff?”

“It’s not that bad, plus if you drink alcohol on a plane you get severe dehydration.” She replied.

“You’re making that up.” Jake looked at her and she turned her attention to him, giving him an appraising look.

“I read it in Science.” She quipped back. Jake blinked, before he burst out laughing and she grinned and shook her head. “I’m just joking. I had several gin and tonics and glass of wine. I’m good.”

Roque looked at Clay. “What just happened?”

“They do this.” Clay answered. “Have you not noticed yet?”

Roque rolled his eyes and then Cougar asked the question that all of them had been dying to know the answer to. “Where’s Evan?”

Well, all bar Jake that is as he couldn’t have cared less.

Stella shifted a little, rubbing her neck, Jake instantly spotting her discomfort. “He errr, he couldn’t make it.”

“He bailed on you?” Roque frowned at the same time Clay blurted out.

“What do you mean he couldn’t make it?”

Stella licked her lips and at that point Jensen jumped in. He could see her flustered and despite his dislike of her boyfriend, he hated seeing her like that so he offered her a way out. “Work?”

She nodded, shooting him a thankful look. “Yeah, something came up.”

“Of course it came up.” Clay grumbled loudly. Whether he had meant for Stella to hear or not, hear she did. And what was more, it was apparent he didn’t believe Evan’s excuse any more than she did. Stella swallowed, she had always trusted Clay’s judgement and it was unnerving a little to realise exactly what he thought.

She took a deep breath. “I’m gonna go check in.” As she reached for her bag, a hand softly batted hers away as Jensen grabbed the handle.

“I got it.”

As soon as the two of them were out of earshot, Cougar turned to Clay as Roque shook his head

“Bastard.” Clay spat. “He’s not come and left her to pick up the flack and explain to Pooch.”

Cougs mumbled a swear word in Spanish as Clay’s eyes flicked to Stella and Jake before he pulled out his phone.

“’m gonna make some calls. Meet you at the pool bar in a while.”

*****

As they stood in the queue for the reception desk, a bunch of people all having descended to check in at once, Jake turned to Stella and took a deep breath. “Wanna tell me what’s really going on?”

“Nothing is going on, Jake.” Stella’s tone was level but firm, an indication she didn’t want to discuss the topic.

But Jensen never had been one to take heed of warnings. “I don’t believe you.”

“Well, you should.” She turned to face him, raising her brow a little. “Tell me, any Mexican chick fallen at your feet yet?”

He sighed, throwing his head back and giving a low groan. “C’mon, Stel, I thought we were past this?”

“Past what?” Her tone was innocent but Jake could tell she didn’t dare look him in the eye. Instead, she concentrated on searching for something in her purse.

“Holding out on one another.” He answered, looking at her. “You’re still my best friend.”

“Well, forgive me if I sometimes forget.” She rolled her eyes as she produced her credit card.

“Okay okay, you don’t wanna tell me then fine.” Jensen rubbed at his eye before pushing his glasses back up his nose. “Whatever.”

Stella looked at him before she gave a little sigh, and hung her head slightly. “Ev’s busy, okay? Something last minute came up and he...”

“Let me guess.” Jake rolled his eyes. “He asked you not to come without him and when you told him to fuck off you had an argument.”

“No, actually.” Stella fixed him with a glare, narrowing her eyes “He told me to come. It’s nothing like that at all.”

“Stel...”

“Jake, just drop it okay!” Her voice grew louder. “You couldn’t be further away from the truth if you tried.”

Jensen raised his hands in surrender, knowing it was time to drop the subject. “All right, all right. I really don’t wanna know.”

Before she could shoot back a response, she was called forward to the desk. Jake moved off to the side with her bag, watching her as she spoke to the guy behind the counter.

His hands dropped to his slim hips as he studied her, wracking his brains. Despite her protestations there was obviously something more going on, he knew her too well. The only thing he could think of was that for some reason they’d had an argument, a big enough one for Agent Shit-Name to leave her to come on her own. And, considering Jake knew he had told Stella to stay away from him, it must have been pretty serious for him to say he wasn’t coming.

As Jake watched Stella signing her name on the paper the guy behind the desk slid over to her, he saw her give a little smile before she tucked her hair behind her ear. He took a deep breath, shaking himself out of his thoughts and decided that he was going to make her forget about Asshole for a couple of days and enjoy herself. Being the Stel he’d always known and adored.

She nodded and said something to the receptionist before she turned towards Jake, heading over to him and he smiled. “All sorted?”

“Yeah I’m on the 4th floor

“Hey, cool! Same as me and Cougs.”

“Are you guys sharing?” She asked and he shook his head, giving a snort.

“Hell no. The Cougar is on the prowl, apparently. He’s a couple of rooms down.”

“Well I’m in 415.”

“422, Sweetheart.”

“Good to know in case I’m attacked by a spider in the middle of the night.” She grinned and Jake chuckled.

“Well, if you want I’ll do a sweep before you go in.” He looked at her seriously. “I am a highly trained killing machine after all.”

“So am I.”

“Yeah but I ain’t afraid of spiders... well, okay, not the little ones that is.”

Stella laughed. “Course not. But, that aside, I could use your help with my suitcase.”

“You don’t need to ask.” He said gently, picking it up. “I was already gonna bring it.”

She smiled and they made their way to the elevator which by some twist of luck was already on their floor. The door opens and they stepped inside, Stella turning to select their floor.

“Alright, I gotta ask.” Jake spoke and Stella turned to him as he gestured to the large case now by his feet. “You’re here for what, three nights? You bring your whole wardrobe, Stelly?”

She scoffed “I need all three nights’ outfits and daytime clothes as well. Toiletries, make up, underwear...bikinis.” At the last word she shot him a wink and Jake’s head dropped forward, his hands on his hips.

“Stop it.” He groaned playfully and she laughed.

“You don’t wanna hit the pool then, Jakey?”

“Is this a trick question?”

“Why would it be?”

“Well this feels like the part where I’m supposed to make some rude comment only I’m not sure if you’ll laugh or slap me.”

“You’d never know if you don’t say it.”

Jake looked at her, he was utterly confused now and hadn’t got a clue what was going on. He licked his lips, swallowed before he sighed and rubbed his beard. Thankfully, he was saved from responding at all as the elevator stopped, the doors sliding open as they’d reached their floor.

****

Once the slightly awkward but friendly first time introductions to the rest of the guests that the boys had met the day before, Stell felt herself really beginning to relax. She had been on edge since arriving if truth be told, not least because her friends had hit the nail on the head, there was something going on with Evan. But, she didn't want to think about it. Not now. Instead, she settled herself on a sun-lounger, peeling off her little sun-dress to reveal a yellow bikini and Jake flopped onto the one besides her, whipping off his white wife-beater. They talked and laughed and joked. It felt good, just kicking back, not a care in the world. Soft, holiday themed music was playing, the atmosphere was happy, and Stella had a constant supply of cocktails thanks to the team persistently plying her with them.

She must have fallen asleep at one point, as when she turned Jake wasn't there, but it didn't take her long to find him, his distinctive laugh ringing out over the pool area. Stella led back in the sun, glasses covering her face, no one able to see her eyes as she watched him sat on the edge of the pool, one of the bridesmaids next to him, their legs dangling in the water. His broad shoulders and back muscles twitched as he talked with his hands, as usual, emphasising whatever it was he was saying, one large arm reaching up to brush through his short hair. The girl laughed and tipped her head back and Jake grinned before he said something else and stood up. Stella shifted a little as he headed towards her.

"Stel, you want another drink?"

She pulled her glasses down, and peered over them as she smiled up at him. "No, I'm fine JJ thanks."

"Cool, just, you know, ask me if you need anything."

"I’ll be fine Jake." She insisted. "Just enjoy yourself or... whatever."

He gave her a little smile before he turned and walked away. Stella watched him go, and it didn't escape her just how many heads turned in his direction. She took a deep breath then suddenly a shadow blocked her sun. She looked up to see Cougar stood beside her, hands on his hips, bright blue swim shorts and a plain grey tank covering his toned upper body.

"Enjoying the views, Arty?"

She rolled her eyes, then smirked at him as she spotted his ever present headwear. "Even round the pool you’re wearing the hat?" She sat up slightly, nodding towards it.

"Well it keeps the top of my head cool and shelters my eyes from the sun." He shrugged. "And helps maintain my youthful complexion."

"You gonna be wearing it for the wedding?" She grinned as he perched on the lounger next to her, before he led back over the top of Jake's towel, swinging his legs up to recline a little.

"Of course I am." He looked at her like she'd asked a dumbass question. "I’m making a fashion statement, Honey!"

At that she laughed. "Well, I look forward to seeing that!"

"I'll save you a front row seat!"

As the two of them continued to chat, over at a table a little further round the pool, Roque and Clay were sat deep in conversation. Pooch made his way over, flopping down heavily into a seat, shades covering his eyes.

“All right, so someone wanna tell me what happened to Shit-Name?” There was no disguising the bitterness in his tone. He was still pissed over the whole stag-do incident as Stella hadn’t gone, and the blame for that lay firmly at Evan’s feet.  “Not that I care, in fact I’m glad not having to see him around but-“ he nodded to Stella “-well I don’t like her being upset.”

Clay took a deep breath and blew it out harshly. “So, I made some calls. Pulled some strings and…”

“What?” Roque took a pull from his beer and turned towards the Colonel. Clay simply shook his head and Roque rolled his eyes. “Spit it out, Clay.”

“The guy is not on duty this whole week.” Clay looked at him, and then to Pooch who pulled a face.

“The whole week? I thought she was flying in today because he had some work to finish before taking a couple of days off?”

“So did I.” Clay shrugged.

“So what? He’s been lying to stop her coming for more than absolutely necessary?” Roque frowned. “That is fucked up, Clay.”

“I don’t get it though.” Pooch shook his head, a puzzled expression on his face. “Why is he not here? If he’s so hell bent on keeping her away from us, well, specifically Jensen, why the fuck has he let her come on her own?”

“I don’t know.” Clay looked over at Stella before turning back. “But I don’t like it.”

“Don’t like what?”

The three of them turned to see Jensen stood by their table, pushing his shades up his nose a little.

“Your swimming trunks.” Roque was quick to quip. “Pink? Really?”

Jensen grinned “Gracie got me these! Special present for being her coolest Uncle.”

“Yeah, you see she’s six, Jensen.” Clay grinned, taking a drink of his beer. “Her taste is debatable.”

At that Pooch snorted. “And besides, man, you’re her only Uncle! Not like she has anyone else to compare you to.”

“Oh yeah?” Jensen shot Pooch a look. “Fine, watch this.” He cleared his throat and looked over the pool area towards Stella. “Yo, Stel!” She glanced at him from where she was sat with Cougar and gestured with her head for him to continue speaking. “What you think of my shorts?” He gave a grin, twirling on the spot with his hands out to his side.

Stella arched a brow as she pulled down her glasses and looked over the top of them at him. “I’ve seen you in worse.” She called before she turned back to Cougar, a slight smile on her face.

Jake grinned and looked back at the men round the table, pointing in her direction. “See, that’s a compliment.”

“Yeah, by worse she means naked.” Pooch snorted. Roque and Clay both burst out laughing and the three of them clinked their beer bottles together.  

“You can all laugh but let’s face it, none of you could pull off this colour.” Jake sniffed.

“Who says you’re pulling it off, Jensen?” Clay arched his eyebrow.

“Well, he’s gonna need to as no one else is gonna pull em off for him.” Roque sniggered.

“Well, actually, Jolene’s cousins have already asked if he was free.” Pooch raised an eyebrow.

“They blind?” Roque shot back as Jensen grinned, ignoring him.

“Really? Which ones?”

“You were sitting with one of them earlier.” Pooch informed him.

“Oh, the red headed chick?” Jensen glanced around, and his eyes once more fell on Stella who was now sat up, turned towards Cougar as they talked about something. He took a deep breath. “Yeah, she’s not really my type. In a bit fellas.” With that he slapped Pooch on the head and wandered over to join Cougar and Stella.

“We cannot tell him about Evan.” Roque stated as Jensen sat down on the sun lounger next to Stella, leaning back a little on his hands.

“Nope." Clay agreed.

“Absolutely not.” Pooch affirmed with a serious nod.

*****

Stella was in her room’s bathroom, leaning over the counter to check her mascara hadn’t left any unwelcome blotch around her eyelashes when there was a loud knock on the door followed by the two softer ones that, ever since they met all those years ago, announced Jake Jensen’s presence. She gave a last glance at her appearance on the mirror, adjusting the thin straps of her pale pink dress to her shoulders, before she went to open the door for him.

“Damn, Stel. You look amazing.”

It was all Jake could express when he recovered from the shock of seeing Stella all dolled up for the first time since what seemed like forever. Maybe the last time being when Jane and Rob got married and they were still together and waiting for their military training to be over. She looked stunning in that outfit and he couldn’t fail but to observe it was Stelly all over. Her pale pink dress was covered in delicate lace flowers and flowed down her curves, the deep v neckline doing nothing but highlighting her gorgeous breasts which Jake so damned well knew and had cherished once upon a time.

Fuck, his mouth was dry…

“Thanks JJ.” Stella chimed, making Jake blink and shake his head. “I need a quick minute…”

As she turned to go finish getting ready he followed her in, closing the door behind him.

“Hey, you’re not gonna say anything about my slacks and this fancy waistcoat I’m wearing.” He asked opening his arms for her to take in his appearance which she did when she turned, looking him up and down. She took in his dark blue plaid tweed waistcoat, matching trousers, along with his pale blue and white striped dress shirt and matching tie and she grinned.

“No jacket?”

“Fuck that shit, Stel its too hot out!” He snorted. “I’m gonna boil to death enough tomorrow in my suit.”

Stella laughed, looking him up and down again before she took a deep breath. “You could almost pass as a grown up, Jake.”

He pouted though he was slightly amused at the comment as it clearly meant her brain had also taken her to the last time they both had worn such elegant outfits, as they had been basically babies then.

“Rude, Stel. You used to like this look on me when we were.... ummm.... did you change your perfume?” Jake suddenly asked in an attempt to change topic after almost sliding dangerously down memory lane.

“No it’s the same it’s been for years.” Stella rolled her eyes at him and turned to rummage in her make up bag.

“Yes. Right….” Jensen replied somewhat awkwardly but relieved she was busy with something else. “So Cougs is coming down with us, he’ll be here in a few minutes.”

“Okay.” She said as she finished putting her lip-gloss on before grabbing her sandals and sitting on her bed. “So like, is there a huge group of us tonight then?”

Jake stood there, his brain having a hard registering Stella’s question, his hands on his trouser pockets as he bounced on the balls of his feet and blushed furiously because, from where he was stood,  as Stella was bent over doing her sandals up, he could see right down her dress and the line of her breasts. But when he finally did realise she’d spoken, he swallowed hard and tried to play it as cool as possible.

“I guess pretty much everyone invited who’s here already, it is a rehearsal dinner after all. Hey, did you know Clay’s chick is landing tomorrow morning?”

“Tomorrow morning? Stella frowned. “Cutting it a bit fine, isn’t it?” She asked standing up and readjusting her dress.

“Well, better late than never.” Jake muttered, more to himself than anything but Stella had clearly heard it as she was glaring at him.

“Don’t start.”

“Sorry, my bad.” Jensen raised the palms of his hands in surrender. But before he could continue apologizing there was another knock on the door. “That will be Cougs.” Jake took a hasty retreat as he went to open the door to Cougar who raised an eyebrow on seeing his friend’s flustered expression.

“Don’t look at me like that, Cougar.”

“What the fuck’s wrong with you, Jensen?” Cougar whispered but then his eyes landed on Stella who was coming towards them and looked at Jensen again as he mouthed. “Wow.”

On an impulse Jake dug him in the ribs with his elbow which made Cougar shove him hard on the shoulder in turn just before Stella stopped by their side and looked at them. “What the fuck are you two doing?”

“Playing tag.” Jensen blurted out.

Stella narrowed her eyes at him just as Cougar looked at him wondering what the fuck Jensen was dragging him into. Jensen gave him a look and Cougar rolled his eyes.

“I told him he’s buying the first round tonight and the jerk said he wouldn’t.” He turned to Stella, trying not to sound too eager or false.

Stella shrugged. “What else is new?”

“Hey, I’m not paying ‘cause it’s a free bar. All the rounds are on Pooch and future Mrs Pooch.” Jensen nodded lightly at Coug, rolling with it.

Stella grinned as they step out of the room and she shut the door. “Well boys, ” she linked her arms into theirs as they were at either side of her, “in that case let’s see how drunk we can go get for free.”

Jakey and Cougar both cheered loudly at the idea and she laughed heartily.

“And you’re walking into the party escorted by two of the most eligible bachelors in this resort, Sweetheart.” Jensen added cheekily.

“Yeah?” She asked as she called the lift and Jensen saw her eyes shine with mischief before speaking again. “You taking me to meet them? Are they downstairs?”

Cougar snorted but Jake wasn’t gonna let it die there. That was the playful Stella he so adored, his Stelly. They could go on at this type of banter for hours if they were in the mood.

“Face facts, I am desirable as Pooch told me before. Bridesmaids already asking for my number. How many asked for your number, Cougs?”

Cougar just smirked and tip the brim of his hat. “They only need my room number, you loser.”

At that Stella let out a huge laugh and the elevator arrived so she stepped in followed by Cougar, Jake behind them.

“Okay, yeah. I’ll give you that one.” Jensen admitted as the elevator doors closed and they headed down.

***

When they got to the big room where the rehearsal party was taking place, the bride and groom were already there greeting all their guests and Stella was immediately introduced to everyone in Jolene’s extended family who hadn’t been at the pool earlier that day. The drinks and conversations were flowing when the wedding planner, a woman with a thick Mexican accent, announced dinner was being served in a few minutes and politely asked them all to find their seats.

The Losers were set to share a table with Pooch’s brother and his girlfriend and a couple of Jolene’s bridesmaids who happened to be her cousins too. The food was delicious and by the time dessert had been served, Stel could swear her dress had shrunk in size but she was damned if she was going to say no to those sinful Tamales. The chocolate on her taste buds, together with all the tequila and cocktails they had consumed during the meal had her in good spirits. She could honestly say she was having a great time and was enjoying herself, only one thing casting a shadow over her jolly mood.

Jolene’s cousin Shanice, secretly renamed by Stella as Corpse Bridesmaid, who was sitting at Jake’s other side, insisted on flirting shamelessly with him, to the point it was embarrassing. So, when her piercing laughter at some of Jake’s shitty quips got everyone at their table startled, Stella shared a glance with Cougar who was sat at her other side and excused herself. Instead of going to the ladies restroom, she went outside, deciding some fresh air would do her good. She wandered out onto the beach a little and sat down breathing in deeply,  taking in the peacefulness of the sea in front of her.

Her head was swimming but not just from alcohol. She wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but it was jealousy. She was jealous of Jake and Corpse Bridesmaid when she wasn’t supposed to be. Right? She wasn’t supposed to be and she didn’t like the feeling either.

And then there was Evan. She knew he was lying about having to work. He’d just used that as an excuse not to come to cover up the real core of the issue. Although he still insisted he was stuck at the office she knew he didn’t have to be there, and that evening, when they had talked on the phone, he had been cold and curt, their conversation mainly made of void questions and monosyllabic answers. Stella breathed in shakily at the memory of that conversation and pulled her phone out for the umpteenth time that night. No messages, no missed calls. Nothing. She sighed and chucked it back on her purse hastily.

“A watched phone never rings, Arty”

She hadn’t heard him approach, absorbed as she was in her own thoughts, but she made no effort to turn around as Cougar was already sitting on the sand next to her.

“Any luck with the blonde bridesmaid, Cougs?” She asked with a soft smile. “Maybe she’s the type that calls.”

“I told you before, I don’t need her to call, just knock.” He joked before turning his head to look at her, studying her features. “What’s going on Arty?”

“Nothing Cougs, just getting a little lightheaded in there.” Stella explained as she nodded her head towards the muffled voices of the party inside.

Cougar nodded. “And I’m assuming it’s not only because of the drinks.”

Stella didn’t reply, she simply looked away not trusting herself to say anything without her voice breaking.

“You know I won’t tell anyone, right? Especially not Jensen.”

Stella sighed and lowered her head as her hands fiddled with the flowers of her dress.  “I don’t believe Ev is working. I think he was making excuses not to come.” She finally spoke, before lifting her eyes to meet Cougar’s.

“And why would he be making excuses not to come with you?” Cougar frowned. “I thought he always wanted to spend time with you. That’s why you haven’t been hanging out with us so much anymore, huh?”

Stella raised her eyebrows. “He does. We kinda had an argument about it, well, not really an argument just a discussion about him crowding me and stuff, how he acts about Jake and you guys... and he admitted he was a little full on but said it was because he loved me.”

“Oh, so he threw the big L word there. That’s good, right?” Cougar asked, looking at her confused and a bit concerned as she had looked somehow embarrassed to admit Evan had said he loved her.

Stella looked at him. “Not really Cougs, because when he said it I was paralyzed and then realized I couldn’t say it back.”

“Oh.” He grimaced. “That’s not so good.” He paused for a moment before he continued. “You don’t love him?”

Stella shrugged, feeling calmer now, almost relieved she had finally got it off her chest and shared it with someone. “I thought I was sorta getting there you know, told myself it would happen in time but we’re almost six months in now. And each week I can’t see beyond the next, there’s no long term view there for me, Cougs and…”

“That’s a hard no disguised as a not yet, Arty.” He observed when he noticed Stella was trailing off. And she didn’t reply but looked at the sand instead as there wasn’t really a suitable response to that, least of all because he was right, she knew that much.

“Come here.” Cougar sighed, waving his hand for her to get closer before wrapping an arm around her shoulder and placing a kiss on the top of her head. “What you gonna do about it?”

“Finish it I suppose. That’s the right thing to do isn’t it?” She answered as she laid her head on his shoulder.

“Yeah, I guess it’s certainly the most sensible thing to do, anyway.”

“Well I’m a very sensible person.” Stella chuckled causing Cougar to snort.

“You spent years dating Jensen, I beg to differ.”

“Not my most sensible time.” She quipped.

Cougar laughed, shaking his head in agreement, and when he looked down to watch her he saw she was looking at the sand again, only this time she was smiling as she was clearly remembering something about the time he spent with Jake.

“He still loves you, you know? Jensen I mean.”

Stella’s eyes darted up at him and she scoffed. “You’re insane, Coug? You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Oh I know exactly what I’m saying. And more so you know it’s true.” Cougar stated as he tipped the brim of his hat and winked at her.

****

“Fuck, no, no more!” Jensen waved his hand as Roque grinned widely and held his hands up cheering loudly as Jensen grimaced. Both men had spent the last thirty five minutes doing shots while being cheered, as could not be otherwise, by Corpse Bridesmaid.

“All right, all right, you win Roque. I’m out.” Jensen admitted defeat as he turned around, scanning the dance floor. He frowned when he realized he couldn’t spot Stella, granted he was a bit drunk but he really couldn’t see her anywhere in the room. So he stood up from his seat and blinked twice as everything was a little hazy.

“Hey Clay, you seen Stel?” He asked when he finally steadied himself, brushing his hand through his hair before he pushed his glasses back up his nose. They’d gotten a little too close to falling off whilst he’d been doing those damned shots.

“Nope, it’s been a while since I last saw her.” Clay replied, glancing up at him from where he was sat on his spot at their table talking to Pooch’s brother.

“She went outside a while back. Didn’t say goodbye so I assumed she was coming back but…” Jolene, who had come searching for her cousin, offered but then someone Jensen couldn’t quite place tapped her shoulder so she turned round to talk to them and they left together a few seconds later, leaving him a little puzzled, without answers.

“Okay, I’ll go find her myself. You guys are useless.” He sniffed as he loosened his tie and turned to leave.

Clay rolled his eyes and looked at Roque who shook his head and snorted. “Whatever Jensen, just keep an eye on that tie. Too loose and you’ll lose it.”

“Don’t do anything stupid, Jensen.” Clay warned him, earning a frown from Pooch’s brother and causing Jensen to stop in his tracks.

“What’s that’s supposed to mean?” He asked, turning to look at Clay.

“It means you’ve drunk a lot with Roque and she’s got a boyfriend who is clearly making her upset.”

“I’m fine I…” Jensen began to protest but he immediately paused as Clay’s words registered. “Hang on, what do you mean Shit-Name is making her upset?” He frowned as Clay groaned, realizing he had said too much “Do you know something?”

“Well he’s not here, isn’t he? That should be enough.” Clay tried to brush it off.

Jensen looked at him for a moment before he turned and left the room, contemplating what Clay had just said. Despite the colonel’s attempt to brush it off as an innocent comment, he had once more raised the point that Shit-Name wasn’t here, and none of them really knew why. There was also the fact that Stella had been uncharacteristically flirty with Jake that day, more than their usual good natured quips…was it possible they had split up? But, if they had, surely she would have told him right? But then again, maybe she wouldn’t have told him, not wanting to cloud Pooch’s big weekend with her issues?

The thought was enough to make Jake grin, but the grin disappeared as fast as it had come and he couldn’t help but groan at this train of thought. Nothing would make him happier than that dick to be gone for good but he also didn’t want Stella to be upset and heartbroken. That was part of the reason that, despite his vow on New Years’ Eve to Clay in his parent’s dining room about fighting for her, he’d really tried to behave. He’d watched as her and Evan had gone from, what appeared to be, strength to strength, and, if he had to be honest, he was just grateful they were on good terms and wouldn’t want to jinx his recently fixed friendship with his Stelly for all the gold in the world. Plus, he just wanted her to be happy, she deserved that at least.  And, until now, he thought that Agent Shit-Name was making her so…

All those noisy thoughts were clouding his alcohol intoxicated head when he finally made it outside after a quick stop at the restroom. As soon as Jensen’s feet landed on the soft beach sand, he spotted Stella in the distance but she wasn’t alone as Cougar was sitting next to her on the sand with his arm round her.

“What the fuck, Cougs?” He whispered to himself, his jaw twitching a little. “Seriously, you’re going there?”

Both figures wheeled round and looked at him as he drew closer, his constant groans about tripping over on the sand alerting them to his presence. And when they did turn, Jake could see Stella had been crying.

“Stel, what’s going on?” He asked her softly.

Stella hastily wiped her tears and sniffed before speaking. “Nothing, I’m fine. It’s just….” She trailed off as she looked at Cougar with pleading eyes.

“I was telling her stories of my childhood here in Mexico.”  Cougar looked at Jake.

“Yeah…” Stella nodded eagerly. “… and it just got me thinking a bit of dad and stuff.”

Jensen glared at Cougar as he squatted beside them both, not for a minute believing the bullshit he had come up with, but then Cougar shot him a look and shook his head gently. Jensen’s frown deepened a little, before he looked at Stella who was now watching the ocean again. He knew she was lying, she had been lying about Evan and about them being fine since she had landed in Mexico that morning, but he also knew now, from Cougs, it wasn’t what his tequila mushed brain had thought some minutes earlier.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed all that to the back of his mind and fixed a smile on his face.

“Well, Stelly, I think the only thing to do here is come dance your sorrows away.” He tried to lighten the mood up a bit as he knew his Stelly had always loved dancing.

She looked at him like he was a moron before she burst out laughing and he shot her a cheeky grin.

“Yasss, come on, Sweetheart.” He pressed as he stood up, helping her up in the process and once they both were standing on their feet Jensen turned around and bent a little. “Jump up! We’re going dancing.”

“You’re not carrying me, moron!” She shook her head as he turned to look at her. “And it’s just one. I had an early morning and I need some rest.” She bent slightly, brushing the sand off her dress, giving Jensen another front row view of her cleavage line and without even looking at him, he nudged Cougar to stop him staring, sending the man sprawling over onto the sand, a string of Mexican expletives escaping his mouth.

“That’s my Stelly.” Jake grinned and she took his hand as she put her sandals back on before Jensen dipped and slung her over his shoulder.

“JJ put me down you ass!” Stella squealed.

“No can do Stel, don’t trust you not to run.” He said amidst laughter.

“Don’t mind me…” Cougar quipped as he remained sprawled on the sand.

“We won’t.” Jensen shot back as he strode up the beach to the bar with Stella over his shoulder, laughing as she slapped his back.

“Jake my boobs are gonna fall out of my dress!” She shouted, slapping his back harder once they were almost reaching the sliding doors that led to the room where the party after the dinner was now in full swing.

“I see no issue with that.”

“God, you’re a dick!” Stella scoffed and Jensen chuckled, eventually putting her down on the bar and looking at her chest. “Hey, my face is up here.”

“I was just… erm…” Jensen gave a goofy smile as he made a grabbing hand gesture in front of her boobs “…checking the twins are still in place and you’re good.”

Stella rolled her eyes at him as she rearranged her dress. “Pervert.”

All in all, and as Jensen had expected, Stella stayed for a little more than one song as she was letting herself go and forget everything. The pair of them just enjoyed themselves, and it was almost as if no time at all had passed, and they were still at some sort of crummy, homecoming or end of year dance at their school’s over decorated sports hall.

Just as they were winding down a rather energetic dance to some form of Nineties dance song, the name of which, Jensen had no idea, Pooch cut the music and stepped up to thank everyone for coming, before he started talking rather drunken and lovingly about Jolene. As Roque and Clay began to heckle, telling him to save the mushy ‘I love yous’ for tomorrow, Stella zoned out a little, thinking about what Cougar had said earlier at the beach. If she was honest, whilst she’d been able to push it away for large chunks of time as she’d been dancing, it had been in the back of her mind all night. Because Cougar had hit the nail on the head, she didn’t love Evan, she didn’t think she ever would, and she couldn’t keep fooling herself. She needed to finish it.

Almost as if he had read her mind, she felt Jake gently take her hand and give it a squeeze and that was it. It all became too much to handle again, and she turned to him giving him a shy smile.

“I’m gonna go Jake, I really am tired.”

Just as she had anticipated, he tried to get her to stay but she refused, declining his offer to walk her back up to her room. She kissed his cheek softly, gave him a smile, and headed off to say goodnight to everyone.

***** Jensen watched her go before dropping his head in defeat. He took a deep sigh, hands on his hips, before Cougar appeared at his side, thrusting a beer he hadn’t even asked for into his hand.

“Thanks.” Jensen whispered, taking a large swig as he studied Cougar. “So what really happened at the beach?”

Cougar hesitated, looking for the best way to give his friend a comforting answer without betraying Stella’s confidence, and it was proving a really difficult task. “She… umm, she told me Evan had said he loved her.” He answered a second or two later, hesitantly.

“What?” Jensen asked, swallowing hard. His beer suddenly felt a bit sandy.

“She didn’t say much more but I’ll let you draw your own conclusions how the whole thing went from how she’s been and the fact he isn’t here.” Cougar shrugged.

Jensen glared at him before taking another sip of his drink. He couldn’t think clearly, it wasn’t time for mind riddles and someone had definitely added that fucking sticky beach sand to his beer, plus, now he was pissed and his mind started spiralling.

Fucking Shit-Name dropping the fucking L word!

But then again, how could he not love her? It was impossible once you knew Stella, and he should know, he had tried it.

And what the fuck? Why hadn’t she told him when he had asked, instead of avoiding the topic all day long and then telling Cougar instead?

And yeah, Cougar could fuck off as well. With a final glare at him, he thrust his beer bottle back into Cougar’s hand and left without as much as a goodbye word.

What might seem common, rational sense to everyone else was never that common or sensible in Jake Jensen’s fucked up mind, least of all when it came down to Stella Stevenson. So, as he headed back to his room and passed hers on his way he stopped and turned back, making her way to her door. He stepped forward, ready to knock, but he dropped his knuckle when it was still mid-air and with a shake of his head and a heavy sigh he carried on.

And now he was also pissed at himself. Great.

******

Chapter 7 Part 2

[out-of-jams]

Chivalry || ksj

Summary: And they say chivalry is dead.

Pairing: Seokjin/Reader

Word Count: 1.4k 

Genre: Idol!Reader. Idol!BTS. Drabble. Fluff.

Warnings: None.

A/N: This idea came to me randomly after watching a compilation on youtube of male Kpop idols being gentleman to female idols hahaha. And this is this result:

All of my works are purely fiction. Everything I write is my intellectual property and therefore belongs to me. ©out-of-jams. Do not copy or repost without permission.

                               | | Masterlist | |

You were going to kill your stylist.

Not because she’d ruined your hair or destroyed your make-up. No, it was because she’d thought that it would be a good idea to force you to wear a short-sleeved dress in forty degree weather. Without a jacket and without leggings.

With your trembling bottom lip caught between your teeth, you couldn’t help but throw an envious glance at your groupmates. Their stylists had the foresight to at least give them jackets. Meanwhile, you were freezing half to death, stuck on a stage in front of thousands of people where you had to pretend that you were fine.

Why they’d decided to have a K-pop competition festival outdoors in the middle of October was beyond you. And why they had to proceed to give out awards for said competition on a stage packed with artists, without heat lamps, where the clouds looked like they would spill open at any moment, was also a doozy.

And so, there you were, placed at the end of your line of groupmates right next to the MC. Who, might you add, was dressed head-to-toe in appropriate winter gear. What you wouldn’t have given to be her at that moment. The words she was speaking into the microphone clutched in her gloved hands went in one ear and out the other.

It wasn’t that you didn’t care about what she was saying, seeing as how your group wasn’t quite at that high level of popularity yet. But it was hard to concentrate on her words when you were so busy forcing yourself not to shiver. Though the goosebumps raised on your bare skin more than likely gave away your peril to whoever was watching the live broadcast. And the leader of your group had just given you a sad, sympathetic look while she watched you practically freeze to death right in front of her. So much for group solidarity.

Maybe your company would give you compensation if you died.

At least then you’d finally get paid more.

“And the winner for best--”

You completely tuned out whatever the MC was about to read off the white card held up in front of her face. Though you had to give her props for even being able to hear herself past the large, fluffy earmuffs thrown over her ears. It wasn’t that you didn’t care who the winner of the competition was, but since you guys were thrown up against Twice, you knew you didn’t stand a chance.

Which was exactly why it wasn’t a surprise when your group lost.

The crowd erupted into cheers and the girls on the other side of the MC bowed their heads modestly and accepted the award. Your own group applauded and Yoomin, the rapper and eldest, could barely contain her enthusiasm. She’d been a huge fangirl of Twice ever since they debuted. So it was a surprise that she was even still standing and conscious after being in their presence for the past half-hour. It was the only award you were up for and you’d lost.

You weren’t disappointed.

Well, not until the sky finally opened up and poured rain faster than you could say, “Oh no.”

Shouts burst from both the crowd and the girls gathered on the stage as the freezing rain ruined perfectly styled hair and carefully applied make-up. The males on stage seemed almost nonchalant about the whole thing, though some of them threw their hands up protectively over their heads like that would somehow make a difference.

You were just too busy trying not to turn into a human version of an icicle.

With hair sticking to your neck and dress clinging to your figure, you couldn’t help the pout that pulled at your lips. You didn’t really care about your hair or your outfit being ruined, you just wanted to be warm.

“Due to the inconvenient weather,” the MC spoke from under the shelter of her umbrella. (Where she’d gotten it so quickly, you had no idea.) “We’re going to resume announcing all award winners inside the KBS tent in tweny minutes. Thank you!”

You couldn’t help but send up a silent thank you to whatever higher power granted you such a boon. The stage slowly started to empty of idols, most of the girls scampering down the small set of stairs first. Since you and your group were closest to the front, there was a little bit of a line to the exit on the far left.

So there you were, frozen and trapped, with your arms wrapped around your middle like some kind of protective barrier against the chill, when it happened. You hadn’t even been looking.

But the sudden heavy, thick material thrown over your soaked hair drew you out of your silent cursing of the weather. You blinked as the lingering warmth of the suit jacket over you seeped into your glacial skin. The scent that hit your nose was subtle yet overpowering with a certain type of masculinity that you couldn’t piece together with your scattered brain.

Your hands came up to clutch at the material automatically, pulling it closer around yourself in an attempt to keep warm. It draped over your figure and drowned you completely, as if it’s owner was some kind of giant.

Like a meerkat, you popped your face out of the jacket and spun around so fast that you accidentally bumped into Yoomin at your side. Her hands came up to steady you with an, “Are you okay?” But you weren’t paying attention. No, you were too busy scanning the mass of retreating backs on the stage.

It wasn’t very bright up there, and with the way every guy in the immediate vicinity were dressed in dark colored clothing made it even more difficult to find your mark. Your eyes narrowed with a squint, ignoring the rain that slipped into your partially opened mouth.

“Who?” Slipped from your lips without permission as you continued to spin back-and-forth in place like a broken top.

“I didn’t see.” Yoomin answered your unfinished question. Luckily, she’d always been able to put together your incomplete thoughts.

“Come on, guys.” The leader of your group gestured to the two of you to catch up with the rest of your group as they walked quickly to the thinning line at the stairs.

With a frown of disappointment, you followed. Though you didn’t stop scanning the crowd.

And your efforts paid off.

Because right there, barely seen between a gap of bodies in the distance was a jacketless man. You could only see his back, and boy was he tall. Then again, pretty much everyone was tall compared to you.

His hair was lavender under the light and the once bright pink color of his button-up shirt was darkened with the rain. And boy, oh boy were his shoulders broad. You wished you could recognize him without seeing his face, but sadly you just weren’t that gifted. But luckily, as cliché as it was, he turned to look back right as he reached the stairs.

Atlas, better known as Kim Seokjin from the world famous group BTS, met your gaze through the heavy downpour. Upon realizing that he caught your attention, the handsome man lifted his plush lips into a smile and winked.

Kim Seokjin of BTS just winked at you. And then scrunched his nose in immediate embarrassment at his actions and quickly turned back around before you could react.

“Damn.” Soomin whistled lowly from your side and you didn’t even have to turn your head to see that she was following your line of sight. “Can’t wait to see the fancams of that.”

God, you really hoped that no one else caught that. Because murder by ARMY wasn’t exactly how you planned to go out. Despite that, it was still too bad that he’d taken his leave before you could manage to form an appropriate response.

Well, it was a good thing you’d have to find someway to return his jacket. It’d be rude to just keep it, afterall. Right?

[msbluebell]

Happy Birthday Dimitri

Dimitri is an important character to me.

I didn’t expect him to be. Not to me, personally. When I went into the game, I expected that he wouldn’t be my favorite. I figured he’d be the tragic fallen hero, but I didn’t think he’d hit so many buttons for me.

People like fallen heroes, and I do too, but they’re not usually my favorite characters. When I picked up this game on my way home from a trip, I looked at the cover and thought, “Claude is going to be my favorite.”

But somehow, someway, this boy hit home for me.

Maybe it’s because we get to see him before he fell apart.

Well, alright, this isn’t accurate. He was never all that put together when we meet him in game. He already had a darkness in him, and he already experienced tragedy that would lead to his downfall later. We met this boy, and I didn’t think too much of him. He was the most polite, and sweet, and those were my thoughts. My first playthrough was of Black Eagles house. Now, you all know I nearly didn’t pick the game up again I disliked Black Eagles so much. But Dimitri wasn’t why. When I killed Dimitri in the game all I thought was, “What a shame. I’m sorry guy. You seemed nice enough. I’d spare you if I could.” I’m not going to lie, I felt like his anger in CF was justified even before I cared about him. But I didn’t expect the sheer depts I would come to care for him when I was playing that first route. I obviously played church route next, since for the most part I had half got through the playthrough. And in that one I wanted to help him, but couldn’t and I thought again, “Ah, what a shame. Can’t save you here either.” Except this time we got a little more. The ghost scene got to me. It showed me his guilt, and that’s when I started paying more attention to Dimitri. I had intended to save Golden Deer route for last, but after CF and SS, I thought I deserved self care, and went with Claude. Though this time I was a little regretful I’d leave Dimitri behind. Because I understood what tragedy befalls him when you don’t choose him. Because I know that this sweet boy becomes so angry, and so regretful, and I wished there was a way to save him. Claude was a great character, and I adored him, and I adored Golden Deer. It was the break I needed after CF and SS. I loved them, and I loved their themes, and I loved their energy. I was convinced that they would be my forever favorites. My only real regret was that Dimitri died again. By this time it seemed almost horrific what was going on with Dimitri, and he somehow seemed worse off in this route than the other two. He was crazy, downright insane, and somehow lost an eye. And it was a shame. Something had obviously happened to him to drive him even further over the wall, but I didn’t feel too bad, because while it was tragic what happened to him, there wasn’t anything I could do. So I decide to finish up the game, and I’m not over invested. I like it, but I don’t think it’s going to be my fandom. It’s fun, I enjoyed it. That’s it. I’ll just finish it off and move on. Then I played Blue Lions. Dimitri had no right to do this to me. He had no right to come in and hit all my personal buttons, and make me care so much. I went into Blue Lions already caring a bit about Dimitri, but I didn’t expect him to claw at my heart the way he did. There’s a tragedy to Dimitri that spoke to me more than Claude, or Edelgard, or Rhea. It was more personal, it was more rough, it attacked a raw nerve in me I thought was healed but I suppose never did quite go away. Some people have asked me why I don’t like Edelgard, considering she’s an abuse survivor and I, also, am an abuse survivor. I think, with people who ask me this, they’re looking more at what caused the need to cope rather than the coping itself. Edelgard and I have suffered more similar abuses than Dimitri and myself, though I wouldn’t say my abuse and hers are the same at all. Still, for me, I think it’s the way we deal with the aftermath of our trauma that speaks to me more than the trauma itself. I didn’t like Edelgard, because even before the twist that she was the invading force in the game, I found her abrasive, dismissive, and unintentionally cruel where she was trying to be empathetic.  I just don’t like people who are sharp, I suppose. I never have.  I think that’s ultimately why I warmed up to Dimitri so quickly. He was kind. He is kind. He is so kind, and empathetic, that I adored him right away. I warmed up to him even more quickly than Claude, who I went in wanting and expecting to  be my favorite. He’s kind, and trying to be kind. But it doesn’t always work. I’ve got something called Hyper Empathy Syndrome. It’s a think, and it’s not really federally recognized, but my therapist says it’s a good way to describe what my issues are. I empathize too much. And you wouldn’t think that was a bad thing, but it is. It causes me untold anxiety, and I hyper empathize with people to the point where it’s almost hard to get mad at them, and I keep not wanting to let them down, and I feel guilty if I say no to them and it upsets them even a little. And, overall, it’s a huge hindrance on my life. I think Dimitri may be the same. Or maybe I’m projecting on him because I see so much of myself in him. Looking at Dimitri, and the way he developed. It was like looking to a mirror at some points and getting a glimpse into the shitty person I used to be.  Now, I’m not going to pretend I went through even half the bad shit Dimitri did. His sufferings just kept piling on and on and on over the course of the game, to the point I wondered how this boy was even alive. I wasn’t at all surprised at how bad off he was in Azure Moon, but sad. Oh, he was shitty. He was terribly shitty. But I got it. Because I’ve been there. I was younger than Dimitri was when I was shitty, so I’ve got that “middle school preteen hormone changes” excuse, but I was shittty. I wasn’t as bad as he was; I’ve never murdered someone, or nearly tortured a man, or obsessed  over a death, but I was just as unpleasant to be around. I was shit, because I wasn’t dealing with myself well. I had bad coping, and I felt alone, and used, and I couldn’t stop being angry no matter how hard I tried. My head kept telling me it was my fault, and everyone around me didn’t know how to deal with me, and they kept trying to drag me out of my comfort zone. And I lashed out against everyone around me, even though I knew it wasn’t their fault, and that only made me feel more guilty and alone and like I needed to be alone. And it was all only made worse by the Hyper Empathy.  It was a cycle of self hate and misery that I put myself through, and I saw that in Dimitri. And it hit home a little harder than I could have ever predicted.  I was rooting for Dimitri because I already loved him. I love him. He means a lot to me, and as I would come to find out her personifies everything that I believe about humanity; that no matter how bad we get we can still come back. Dimitri is someone that suffered, fell from grace, brainwashed himself into suffering more, all while suffering from a mental illness, and was still able to come back with some help and a whole lot of work and self reflection.  Dimitri is someone that was surrounded by loved ones who wanted to help him but mostly didn’t know how to, people who supported him, but it wasn’t enough. He had to pull himself out, with support. and it wasn’t easy. Hell, it wasn’t easy to support him either. There was a point where he got so low I legitimately thought there would be no going back for him. I almost gave up. But I didn’t want to, and I didn’t, and it’s because despite it all I still loved who he was and wanted him to get better. And he did. And I guess that gave me hope. I guess it made me hopeful that if he could get better from all that, then maybe it wasn’t impossible for other bad people to get better. It made me happy. It made me appreciate him. It made me thankful. Dimitri gave me hope that people could be better than they were, and I’ll forever be thankful for that. It’s actually not all that often a character affects me this much. And maybe it seems dumb to others that a fictional character could affect my life so much, but then again, no one has a right to judge me for where I find hope. Dimitri isn’t just a character I liked, he’s a character that gave me hope. He’s a character that came back from that bad place. He’s a character that basically looked at me and said, “You can come back from this.” And I’m trying so hard to be better.  Dimitri and I have a lot of the same issue. The guilt, the self hate, the blame, other things. And he still has people that love him, people that don’t give up on him. And, yeah, them being there isn’t always helpful, heck, in some case it makes his issues worse. But they’re there for when he comes back, and they help him, and that gives me more hope too. But nothing gives me more hope than the fact that he came back. And when he came back, he worked to be better. And he forgave. And I feel like that makes him so much stronger than me. Because I don’t think I could have forgave to the same level that he had. I couldn’t look the woman I thought ruined my life in the eye and forgive her. I don’t think I could face a man who did ruin my life in the eye after he told me he’d do it again in the name of justice. I couldn’t forgive to Dimitri’s level. He’s come a long way, Dimitri, and I am so proud of him. Happy Birthday Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, thank you for showing me I can be better.

[we-want-mini-mini]

Because I fell in love with the previous prompt/oneshot I wrote about an OC falling into the DC universe (specifically Gotham) and wants to avoid the Vigilantes/Wayne and Co but fucking fails at it (or succeeds, who knows).

This one shot is about—

The Reluctant Executive Assistant To Lex Luthor, Who Also Is A Supervillian

Masterlist | Pervious Post Regarding This Oneshot

Warnings! Strong language, mentions of disassociation, mentions of body dysphoria, non-graphic description of violence, probably OOC Lex Luthor, shitty spelling and grammar oh my!

LIA WONDERED WHAT SHE DID TO ANGER THE UNIVERSE, what she did so heinous, so deplorable, so bastardly to be punished in this way. She reclined into her plush sofa, her eyed glazed over, as they seemingly stared beyond the cream colored walls of her small Metropolis apartment. On her coffee table, laid a stack of papers. Papers that were at least a couple inches thick, filled with long winded explanations, language that could confuse anyone, and an agreement to become Lex Luthors god damn Executive Assistant.

I’m basically going to be a glorified Secretary, for one of the most powerful men in the world... Whose also a raging fucking Supervillain too. Lia thought with a groan, rubbing her face. Her mind whirled with various thoughts, plans and so, oh so much more. The fact that she’s been offered such a prestigious job, at the tender age of 23 years old. A job as the right hand to a fucking Supervillain, Jesus Christ...

Ever since Lia woke up in her doppelgänger’s body, all those years ago, she made a decision that she would never involve herself with the various vigilantes of this world. But, considering she lived in Gotham before this, she had to cope with the fact that her city had various Vigilantes running around, doing whatever they were doing. But, Lia had the upper hand you see: the world she came from, all the Vigilantes and hero’s were fictional characters! Thus, she knew all their origin stories, secret identities and the like. In her pervious world, every kid knew that Superman was unassuming reporter Clark Kent of the Daily Planet. Who also happened to be Lia’s next door neighbor. You know what, I’m not even going to go down that rabbit hole. Nope. Nah. I’m good.

But, adjusting to life in her new body wasn’t a simple walk in the park. She had to adjust to a whole new city (perviously Lia lived in New York, which was the inspiration for Gotham but still). A whole new environment that became desensitized to the causal, practically fanatasical acts of violence ranging from man made super blizzards, the occasional alien invasion and etc. Not to mention, Lia had to cope with the fact she, in essence, lived in an entirely different body. The first two years of living in this world, Lia struggled with dissociation and body dyshoria at the fact that one: she now lived in a completely different world compared to her pervious world, and two: she inhabited a body that, yes is her, but, at the same time, wasn’t her.

Thank goodness mom realized what was happening and shipped my ass off to the few non-supervillain therapist in Gotham. Lia thought with a huff like laughter.

Her eyes then soon trailed too the stack of papers Lex Luthor gave, ones that detailed her contract of becoming his Executive Assistant. One, that would make her one of the most powerful women in the US by being the right hand of Lex Luthor. Who also is a fucking supervillain, god damn it.

Lia vowed to herself to never involve herself with the various superheroes, vigilantes, or villains of her new world. She wanted to live a normal as possible life, not wanting to have such a heavy responsibility of being a hero on her alreayd aching shoulders. She did not want to get involved in the drama that often plagued those who entered that life. She did not want to endanger her family (or herself) because she has connections with people who are vigilantes. Specifically, when she was a student at Gotham U, she avoided anything surrounding the Wayne’s (considering they are the infamous Bats and Birds that protect Gotham and her people). Likely, the only times she ever saw said infamous Vigilantes were the few unlucky times she was in a hostage situation and when she was about to be mugged those couple of times.

As far as interactions outside of their vigilante identities, she’s bumped into Bruce Wayne shopping with Damian, Stephanie, Cassandra and Tim. And oh boy, oh boy, did Lia pray to any deities out their to make sure this was the first and last time she ever met them. Her only words to Bruce Wayne (also fucking Batman) was a high pitched apology and the wish to be smited by God that very second. She’s also bumped in Dick Grayson the one time she visited some friends in Blüdhaven in a coffee shop. They struck up conversation, and it wasn’t till the end of the conversation did she realize who it was. After that, she always went out with headphones in her ears as they are the universal symbol of Don’t Talk To Me. And as for Jason, she’s seen Red Hood when she was out late at a 24/7 7/11, picking up some food. Frankly, Lia was to strung up on zero sleep and pure caffeine and spite to honestly give a single shit. Lia vaguely remembered wanting a specific thing, and Red Hood also reaching for it. She snatched said snack with a word, ignoring Red Hoods existence completely. The cashier looked like they saw a ghost but, as always, Lia was tired to give a single flying shit.

However, Lia’s paranoia didn’t simmer down. So much so, that she applied for an internship at LexCorp, her excuse being she wanted to have a change of scenery. While working at LexCorp, she gained considerable amount of knowledge and experience, but compromised with her mom that, after her internship finished up in LexCorp, she’s go to WE and work there. Lia had deep seeded concerns about working at WE, but after going back and forth in her head, she decided that, fuck it. It’s a gigantic ass company. There’s such a low percentage of me ever crossing paths with one of the Waynes and Co. Plus, mom drives a hard bargain. And damn, do I honestly miss Gotham. It’s so damn bright here. And it’s called fucking Metroplis of all things.

Before Lia could further brood about what her life had become, the sound of her doorbell flooded Lia’s ears. Lia’s eyebrows scrunched together, did I order something? But, she shrugged to herself, springing to her feet. Better find out then, I guess.

When Lia opened the door, she expected, say, a delivery person, or, a neighbor asking to borrow something. What she did not expect was her 5’3” mother, standing next to a 6-something, rather muscular, but familiar figure of—HOLY SHIT IT’S SUPERMAN, WHAT THE FUCK—

Next to her mothers petite figure, was the gargantuan stature of one Clark Kent, AKA, Superman. Lia could feel her blood pressure rise.

“Mom! Mr. Kent! What a nice surprise.” Lia said, through a tight lipped smile. Her mother simply smiled, laughing lightly.

“Habibi, it’s been such a long time—and, wait did you loose weight?” Her mother’s once smiling face turned sour, her eyebrows pinched together in worry. Her warm brown eyes trailing up and down Lia’s figure. Lia’s face immediately warmed up a few degrees, then her mother took hold of her face, examining it closer. Lia let out a indignant squawk, “Mom! Not infront of the neighbor please!”

Clark simply laughed, “No, it’s alright. I can understand a mother’s worry as my own Ma does the same thing whenever she visits.”

Her mother nodded, “See! He doesn’t mind, habibi. Now, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you. Mr. Kent, if you would be a dead, could help me set the food on the table?”

Clark smiles, his teeth a little too white and dazzling. “Of course! But please, call me Clark.”

Her mother laughed, while nodding. “Of course, Clark. Now, come in, come in.” Her mother said, inviting Lia’s neighbor into her apartment. She let out a sigh, moving out of the way.

Before long, Clark, Lia and her mother were setting up dinner. Somehow, someway, Lia’s mother convinced Clark to stay for dinner, while sending meaningful glances towards Lia. Lia wanted to jump out of her window. Knowing that her mother would always be her wingwomen, was, strangely nice, but this time? Trying to set her up with fucking Superman? Nope. Nah. No happening mom, no matter how hot Clark looks. Not. Happening.

Her mother, soon strikes up conversation with Clark about work. He talks about the Daily Planet, and being a reporter. Soon, the topic veers to Lia, whose honestly forgotten that Clark was Superman for a couple minutes.

“...on the topic of internships, my Lia currently interns at LexCorp, if I’m not wrong.” Her mother says, sending a pointed look to Lia.

“Uh. Yeah. I’m currently working at LexCorp as an intern.” Lia says, watching for Clark’s reaction at the fact that she works for his biggest nemesis. She can see it, the infantasmal flinch, before he relaxes again.

“Oh, is that so? From what your mother said, didn’t you live in Gotham before coming to Metropolis?” He inquires, setting down some plates on Lia’s dining table. Lia freezes up, since, she can’t just say: Well, you see, I know the identities of Gotham’s infamous vigilantes, who happen to also run and own WE.

“Well, I wanted a change of scenery really.” Lia added smoothly, taking out all the food and sorting them. She kept her face and tone neutral, watching Clark’s every move and reaction.

His face had a knowing look, as he gave a small nod. “I can understand that. Gotham and Metropolis are two very different cities and wanting a change of scenery is a fine reason for moving.”

Lia hums noncommittally, while her mother sighs. “I still wished you would’ve stayed in Gotham, you know. It’s closer and I worry for you, Habibi.”

Lia buffs through her nose. “Mom. I’m 24 and very much so capable of protecting myself, considering you were the one who taught me how to knock a man thrice my size out in a single punch since I was 7.”

Clark makes a sort strangled noise and covers it up with a cough. Lia’s mother simple sighs, her face showing her true age. “Of course your capable of defending yourself. Why would I let my daughter out and about in Gotham of all places with being able to defend herself? I just worry, ya habibi. This is a whole new city and you also live by yourself.”

“I’ve been living by myself since I was 18, mom.” Lia interjected but her mother gives her a look.

“Yes, you have been living by yourself since you were 18 but at least you were nearby. I worry, regardless of the fact.”

Lia sighs. They’ve had this talk numerous times, before Lia moved to Metropolis and before she even uttered her concerns about wanting to move. “I know.” She says softly.

The conversation dies out, as everything soon is set. However, before they could start eating, Lia’s mother spots the stack of papers.

“Lia, what with the stack of papers?” She inquired, her head gesturing to the coffee table.

“The stack of what?” Lia yelled out, as she was in the kitchen getting a jug of water. Her mother, whose curiosity guided her, got up from her seat and took ahold of the papers.

“The papers on your coffee table. What are they for?” She asked again, when she heard Lia set the jug of water down.

Lia, whose brain was preoccupied with a million other thoughts, carelessly said the phrase: “Oh, my contract to become Executive Assistant to Lex Luthor.”

Clark almost dropped what he was holding, before discreetly catching it with his super speed. Lia’s mother stilled, her eyes wide as saucers, her lips slightly parted.

“Your what to whom?” Her mother asked, her tone beyond incredulous.

Lia short circuited. She realized what she just said. In front of fucking Superman. In front of her mother. Fuck. Why does the universe hate me?

Before Clark could say anything else on the matter, his phone buzzed. The mother daughter pair snapped their gaze at Clark, whose face grew even more surprised.

“Oh. I’m sorry, I have to go. Something urgent just came up.” He said, shoving his phone back into his pant pocket. The mother-daughter pair simply nodded, as they watched a slightly frantic Clark Kent shuffle out of Lia’s small apartment.

When they heard Lia’s apartment door shut closed, her mother’s head whipped towards Lia’s. Her face went rigid, the past surprise at the new was scrubbed away, being replaced with a cold, calculative look. She gestured to Lia to sit down, at the dining table.

Lia, who simply stared at her for a while, sighed, before taking the opposite seat across from her mother. She knew this conversation will be a long one, thus, she started to pile on the food her mother brought.

“The contract in your hands, is a contract between me and Lex Luthor. It’s about me becoming his Executive Assistant.”

Her mother hummed, while also taking some food. “So, you’re going to be his right hand, essentially?”

Lia nodded. Well, sure. I’m technically a glorified secretary with a lot of power now. But sure, right hand is a lot more appealing. But she didn’t voice those thoughts, simply taking a bite of her food.

“Well, this took a turn I did not expect it too.” Her mother said with a sigh.

“You and me both, mom.”

Lia never would’ve imagined, not in a million Earths, would she become Lex-fucking-Luthors Executive Assistant. She honestly thought she would finish her internship without much fanfare and move back to Gotham to apply for a position at the WE.

“So,” her mother began, setting her fork down. “How the hell did you catch Luthors eye?”

“Well, it’s a bit of a long story but...”

A COUPLE DAYS AGO, the department in which Lia was interning suddenly lost a handful of employees who quit for whatever reason. Not to mention, an important meeting was scheduled and was now completely fucked due to these employees leaving. Plus, some other important event was also going on with some higher level execs and that was also in jeopardy. Lia, who was witnessing this utter shit storm in real time, realized, oh fuck. This is bad. Really bad. And decided to do something about it. Lia, at the time, was known in her department as someone who can manage a schedule like no ones business, convince people to do things her way like it was as easy as drinking water. She had a reputation and the department head was a chicken whose head was cut off, trying to put out the proverbial fires one by one, rather ineffectively. Lia, who made friends with various other interns in other departments (who worked with other high level employees), and who had various connections in Metropolis, was able to salvage most of the day (and subsequent week). She was able to fill in those positions rather quickly (the department head was more then happy to oblige), re-schedule the various important meetings and events that were scheduled that in under three hours after some (what Lia called) “aggressive persuasion”. Somehow, someway, the story of some intern with godly management abilities, persuasion skills made its way up to the big man himself: Lex Luthor.

When Lex Luthor heard of this, he became intrigued. Thus, he called Lia up, all the way to his office. Lia, who when was told that fucking Lex Luthor himself wanted to see her, was understandably shitting bricks. Her mind immediately went to the fact that somehow, someway, he figured out that Lia knew the identities of various vigilantes. Lia, who was reasonably terrified at the thought, began to draw up counter arguments and contingencies.

The entire way to Lex Luthor’s office Lia went through the seven stages of grief (the extra two are Denial 2 and astral projection). She thanked those she loved, and made her not peace with God. When Lia finally arrived to Luthors office, she immediately compartmentalized all her feelings, slapped on her most convincing cooperate smile, and knocked on his door, saying in the most polite and calm tone she could muster: “Mr. Luthor? You called for me, Lia al-Abadi?”

The moment she heard the muffled “come in.” Lia sent one more prayer to whatever deity out their, and strode into Luthors office.

Now, Lia has seen pictures and clips of Luthors office. But, it was one thing too see it and another to be in it. Lia, when entering the large office, with Luthor facing the window out looking Metropolis, felt her heart drop all the way to the earths core.

Her hands were discreetly balled up in her sides, her nails digging crescent shaped moons into the palm of her hand. The shirt underneath her blazer was definitely soaked through, but, thankfully, Lia wore a black blazer today, so it wasn’t that noticeable. Probably. Hopefully.

Lia took in a deep breath, trying to calm her hammering heart. “Mr. Luthor?” She called out, her voice surprisingly even. Her heart hammered against her chest, so hard, it seemed it would burst through any moment. God, what the fuck is my life anymore.

Luthor, being the dramatic ass Supervillian that he is, spun around, his hands clasped together as he faced Lia, sitting in a typical, large, black, swivel chair. The only thing he was missing was the white cat in his lap. 

Lia could feel herself die a little when she made direct eye contact with the man, the legend, the Asshole, himself: Lex god damn Luthor.

“Ah, Ms. al-Abadi, please, do sit down.” He said, his voice uncharacteristically bright and inviting. But, Lia knows better then to trust the fox when it was simling. She could see the calculative glint in his eyes. Carefully, she walked towards Luthor, who kept his picture prefect smile. The only thing that filled Lia in for the eternally long, yet short walk towards Luthor was the clicks of her heel, and her heart hammering against her eardrums.

Her hand, which she forced to keep steady, took ahold of the chair, dragging it away from the desk. The ugly screeches of the chair legs against the marble floor still reasonated through Lia’s ears. But, at least she saw the slightly—almost invisible—eye twitch that gave away his annoyance.

Lia, who kept her face devoid of any emotions, slowly sat down. Her eyes still focused on Luthors stupid smiling face.

When she sat down (finally, Jesus Christ that was a lot more anxiety inducing then I thought) she kept her back straight, shoulder squared and her hands on her lap. She could still feel her heart beating hard against her rib cage, and the million thoughts of Luthor somehow finding out about Lia and her knowledge of the identities of the various vigilantes. Her hands became clammy, her entire being screamed, I AM VERY UNCOMFORTABLE! but, Lia was stuck in between the proverbial rock and a hard place (rock: chair, hard place: Luthor’s office).

Her lips stretched into her patented cooperate smile, “You had called for me, Mr. Luthor, sir?”. Fuck my life. Lia thought, still smiling while she slowly died on the inside.

Luthor bared his teeth, lips stretched into a smile. “Please, call me Lex, Ms. al-Abadi.”

Lia, with ever cell in her very being, absolutely rebelled at the prospect of calling Lex Luthor just Lex. For one, he’s her boss, and Lia was raised to be polite. Second, Lia only ever referred to Lex Luthor either as Luthor or Lex Luthor, never just Lex. Third, Lex Luthor is a goddamn Supervillain, no fucking way am I calling him by his first name.

Lia’s fave stretched out into a tight lipped smile. “I’m afraid cannot do that, Mr. Luthor.” She said through gritted teeth, face still stretched out into a tight lipped smile.

Luthor cocked his eyebrow. “Oh? And why is that?”

For one, your Supervillain. Second, me saying your first name, and just your first name, tiggers my flight or fight response. Lia, of course, did not response to Lex Luthor’s question with that reply. Instead she said, “For one, Mr. Luthor, you are my boss and I am your employee. Employees don’t generally refer to their boss by their first names. Secondly, me referring to you by your first name implies that I am in some way, shape or form, close to you. Considering this is my first time ever meeting you personally, I can’t—” Won’t “—refer to you by your first name.”

A beat of silence. Lia, who continued to smile at Luthor as he stared at her for a good few moments, before lightly chuckling.

“Well, when you put it like that, Ms. al-Abadi, I cannot disagree. However, I do hope in the near future you would be more comfortable calling me Lex rather then Mr. Luthor.” He said, his face all smiles.

For a moment, Lia was confused. She was simply a temporary intern that would leave in about two months, how would she hypothetically warm up to Luthor enough so to call him Lex? Plus, what he said also implied that Lia would stay in LexCorp long enough to warm up to Luthor.

Then a thought crossed Lia’s mind. Wait, does he want to be my sugar daddy?? Which Lia immediately shot down, as, this is Lex Luthor, why the fuck would he be interested in being my sugar daddy? Even though I am fucking beautiful, thats for sure. But still. Lia shuddered at the thought before getting back on the topic at hand.

“Mr. Luthor, I am just a simple intern that will be leaving in about two months. I don’t understand how I would be able to get close to you enough so that I refer to you by your first name,” Lia said.

Then another thought crossed her mind, “Unless, you’re planning on making me a full time employee?” There was a slight tilt in Lia’s voice, her eyebrows slightly pinched together. Lia, however, racks her brain for any reason why Lex Luthor of all people would personally call her to his office just to say he’s going to hire her as a full time employee.

Luthor nodded, “Precisely, Ms. al-Abadi. But, I don’t just want to make you any full time employee, that would simply be a waste of your talent and potential.” He said, reaching for one of his drawers, pulling out a stack of papers.

A wave of confusion wash over Lia. Talent? Potential? The fuck did I do to catch Luthors attention of all people? “I’m not sure what you mean by my ‘talent and potential’, Mr. Luthor.” She said, while shaking her head. She honestly didn’t think of anything note worthy enough to catch a awfully busy man like Luthor.

A flash of confusion flickered through Luthors face before being plastered with another smile. “Ms. al-Abadi, I’m sure you know your reputation among the other interns, right?”

Lia’s eyes narrowed, as she hesitantly nodded. She was infamous for managing a clusterfuck of a schedule into an actual, mangable schedule. Lia was also known for her “aggressive persuasion” tactics and the like.

“Not to mention, the situation in which many employees from the department you interned in, quit. Resulting in many important events and meetings to be up in the air. Not to mention some other notable things that happened that day.” Luthor said, matter of factly.

And, he wasn’t wrong. But the fact that Luthor knew of that utter shitstorm raised more then a few alarms in Lia’s head. The situation that occurred that day was promptly swept under the rug and Lia only complained about the situation to a couple intern friends and her brother. Then, the face of Ana—an intern from the PR Department—flashed through Lia’s eyes. Lia wanted to strangle herself. Of course she told fucking loose lipped Ana about situation that never should’ve reached Luthor’s ears, god fucking damn it. No matter how much Lia wanted to groan and fight God, she kept her composure.

Lia gulped down, rubbing her hands as another smile made its way onto her lips. “Well, I simply did what had to.” I had pull so many fucking favors, and most of my god damn grey hairs are from that day, Jesus Christ. Whenever Lia remembered that day, her face (internally) soured, and the need for her to curse out God, the universe, whoever, was so great she had to bite her tongue (literally) to force herself not to go on a 20 minute rant about the entire situation. Still, even with her bubbling feelings of pure, unbridled rage, Lia kept her composure. This is a professional environment. I’m infront of my boss. Whose one of the most powerful man in the US. Whose also a raging Supervillain. I have to stay professional. Professional...

“Nonsense, Ms. al-Abadi. From what I heard, you had a situation presented to you, a situation that was falling at the seems no less—and somehow salavaged it. In under three hours, you were able to salvage the situation, reorder them schedule and was able to avert a scandal as well.”

Lia, for whatever reason, felt her face grow hot at the praise. She, of course, knew how shitty the situation became—did what she always did—complained a bit, and moved on. Planning, reorganizing, improvising plans on the go, and her “aggressive persuasion” is something Lia always did. She didn’t find such things awfully notable, as she’s been doing this sort of thing since the ninth grade.

“T-That’s—” Lia cleared her throat. “That’s quit a bit of praise, Mr. Luthor, considering I didn’t do much aside from reorganize and persuased a few people. Nothing that I consider rather notable, enough so to earn your attention.” Unnecessary attention, was left unsaid.

Luthor simply smiled, his teeth too white and straight for Lia’s eyes. “You might consider it unnotable, but I beg to differ.”

Then beg—Lia almost retorted, but she caught the phrase before it could ever leave. Fucking siblings.

Luthor pushes the stack on papers closer Lia. “Which is why—I want you, Ms. Lia al-Abadi, to become my Executive Assistant.”

Lia, when she heard the words Executive Assistant concluded that the universe hates her and that she will make preparations to fight God.

Safe to say, Lia was just offered a prestigious position, next to Lex Luthor, to be his Executive Assistant. The same Lex Luthor who is actively fighting against Superman—the Justice League at large—and it an overall Supervillain. One of Superman’s most noteworthy Supervillian. A Supervillian, who can potentially kill Superman because he has access to a grow, green rock. A Supervillian who made a clone of Superman—combing his and Superman’s DNA—to do so. The same Supervillain, who essentially was asking: “Do you want to be my right hand?”

“You want me to be your what?” Lia asked in an incredulous tone. She looked at the stack of papers and Luthor several times, while pointing to herself. “Me? A 23 year old, with barely any experience in the cooperate world, work as your Executive Assistant?”

Luthor, surprisingly, nodded, his face not showing a hint of annoyance. “Yes, I am. Of course, you should take your time to think over my offer. It is Friday, and I’ll be expecting your answer next Monday. Come to my office at 3 PM, next Monday, and we’ll talk some more, Ms. al-Abadi. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have another meeting to get too.”

Next thing Lia knew, she was holding onto a stack of papers, in an elevator, going down back to her original office. When she came back, several people commented on how dazed and pale she looked. One of her supervisors even asked if she wanted the rest of the day off (as there wasn’t much left to do, either way). Lia, who was still reeling from the events that had just transpired, graciously accepted.

Lia’s mother, who kept on listening to the entire ordeal, from start to finish simply commented. “Well, damn.”

Lia groaned, her hands rubbing her face. “‘Well, damn’? That’s all you have to say on the fact that one of the most powerful man in America offering me a position as his god damn Executive Assistant?”

“Hey! It’s a lot for me to take in, and, it must a lot for you to take in.” Her mother said, reaching out, taking a hold of Lia’s hand. She gave a comforting squeeze.

“Yeah, it was...” Lia mumbled. She sighed, her eyes on the stack of papers detailing what Lia’s responsibilities were, and some other key information. The stack of papers that could change her life with a single stroke of a pen.

“So, what are you going to do? Accept Luthors offer, or...?”

“It’d be dumb for me not to accept it.”

“Damn right it would be!”

Lia shoot her mother a look, before continuing, “It’s just... I’m only 23 and me getting this job is just... There’s a lot to consider. Sure, I’m good at managing schedules, persuading people and—” Her mother snorted, waving her hand.

“Hey! I am good at all those things, you know.” Lia exclaimed, crossing her arms.

Her mother raised both her hands, shaking her head. “Never said you were bad at them, Habibi. Your a damn genius when it comes to organizing events and persuading people. Not good, not great, but a god damn genius.” Her mother voice clearly showing how proud she was of Lia.

The tips of Lia’s ears were painted bright red, as her face spilt into a grin. “Yeah, yeah, I guess I am. But, the matter at hand is that, I don’t have much experience in the cooperate world. And, I just graduated a couple months ago. Not to mention, if I accept the position, there’s going to be a lot of talk on how, I, a 23 year old, rather attractive women, who just recently graduated from Gotham U, who was just a regular intern, managed to get the position of Executive Assistant to Lex Luthor.”

Her mother sighed. “True, there definitely will be rumors regarding how earned such a position without much prior experience.”

Lia sagged in her seat, her mind a tornado of thoughts. Should she accept? Should she decline? Should she msyteriously disappear off the face of the Earth, never to be seen again? Decisions, decision, so many decisions with so many consequences and variables at play that made Lia’s head ache. She had time, but not enough. It was late in the evening on Friday, and Luthor wanted an answer by Monday afternoon. Great. Just a couple dozen hours till D-Day. Fan-fucking-tastic.

“What about a trial basis?” Her mother blurted out. Lia cocked her eyebrow, gesturing for her to continue.

“Like, what if, you were his Executive Assistant for a couple of months, on a trial basis. Just to dip your toes in and get a feel for the job. That sort of thing.” She said with a shrug.

Lia’s eyes widen, as if a light bulb went off her head. “Oh my god. Why didn’t I think of that? That’s prefect! Not only would it allow me ample time to see if I’m ready for such a position, but also invaluable experience if I were too not take the position or Luthor deemed me unworthy of it.”

With a sort of plan set in mind, Lia continued to eat, all with a smile on her face. Even if after the trial basis, Luthor deems me unfit, I still get away with a couple months worth of pay that would pay off my student loans, not to mention invaluable experience. I win regardless of the fact if I get the job or I don’t!

With the sun setting, and Lia eating her fill, while catching up with her mother on other past events, Lia can’t seem to stop smiling. Even if she’s going to become the (Reculant) Executive Assistant to Lex Luthor, who also is a Supervillian.

That’s it folks! I had a lot of fun writing this in all honesty, even though it’s not that good. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Till next time.

[cxmetery-gates]

A DANCE WITH GHOSTS - VISERYS TARGARYEN

CHAPTER ONE: THE FLOWER

SUMMARY: The should-be king of Westeros imagines his rule, until a particular lady disrupts his thoughts.  WORD COUNT: 966 NOTES: Hello, and welcome to the first chapter! Just as a notice, all the chapters are going to be relatively short, but I hope you will enjoy nonetheless. Viserys is a tiny bit out of character, buuut it’s my fan fiction and I make the rules. Now, on with the show! WARNINGS: none

MASTERLIST

UPON A BALCONY STANDS A man that should be the king.

White hair and purple eyes define his features among the rest here in the city Pentos of Essos. Across the narrow sea and upon the Iron Throne of Westeros is where he should find himself, not here, stuck in the ancient city with people who don't care for his homeland. The house of Magister Illyrio Mopatis had been a place to call home for half a year and the magister was hospitable for the future king of Westeros and his little sister, but Viserys only wanted to take back what was his. The task seemed so simple. It should be, given his legitimate claim to the throne. Though, such kidnapped dreams are often times the hardest to find again.

Viserys Targaryen, third of his name, drums his fingers against the stone railing, the metallic clanging of his rings drown in the cries and shouts of the city below. He has no place among them: he is higher than they could ever dream to be. And this is why they sneer at him so. They're all jealous of his rightful claim, how the kingdoms across the sea pray for Targaryen rule. Such praise would never graze them. Viserys knew they would come to fear him once he sits upon the throne of swords. All seven kingdoms and the rest of the world would bow before him on quivering knees, too afraid to speak, lest fight the Targaryen family again. They would love to hate him and hate to love him. Their prayers would be answered in time, but there is nothing that can stop the wrath of a king who was stolen of his rights.

No one wishes to wake the dragon.

Viserys slyly smiles to himself, creating the list of men who will soon meet his fiery touch. If only he could spread wings like the beast of the Targaryen House sigil, cross the sea himself and cast fire upon those who dare send him the wrong glance.

Unrested dreams of violence and conquering cities squander Viserys' mind, plaguing him with visions of success. He is triumphant despite being so far from obtaining an ounce of gold. Perhaps this is what drives him. To prove them all wrong, to finally have a place to call home, and to be the Dragon King—

From the street just under his home, a sweet song interrupts all thoughts and conversations. It catches everyone's attention, including the man on the balcony; it always does. Even the impatient and cynical Viserys can appreciate a blissful song and voice. However, it appears that the girl would purposely choose to begin when Viserys was having a moment for himself. Despite how he wishes to simply ignore the girl, it was proven impossible long ago. Alongside her singing and dancing, every street graced with her voice is captured in a unanimous amusement. There were calls, laughter, and some pitching in on occasion. Under any other circumstance, the people of Pentos were selfish, sometimes cruel to one another, but somehow, someway, the blonde girl turns their hearts from stone to flower pedals, like the ones that adorn her yellow hair.

This makes Viserys roll his eyes. A young, silly girl has easily gained the hearts of the city with her sweet nothings while he has to fight for their respect. Rich and poor, young and old; it does not matter, she is loved and cherished by them all. The pretty flower of Pentos, they call her. It's unfair, though he would never admit this out loud or even to himself. He is, after all, more powerful than she is. And yet, he is just as enthralled as the rest of them.

Only because he has nothing better to do, of course.

So, he continues to watch, taking notice of her every detail, as he has done before. The way her yellow Lannister-like hair bounces with each step, catching the sun rays, turning them into pure gold, is like none other. It's not admirable by any means, considering how much dirt has caked layers upon her light skin, but the color is striking. Viserys crinkles his nose, not wanting this think about the smell that follows the forest-dweller. But this apparently did not matter to the city folk: after all, they share the same filth.

A prominent feature belonging to the woods witch, aside from her sharp jaw and straight, thin nose, are her eyes. Green, like the sea, drift to each person she runs into before closing in a blissful state, allowing her dancing feet to guide the way. The movements her small frame creates are like waves; soft and smooth but also inviting. Mirroring her body, the girl's eyes are just as alluring. Perhaps meeting her gaze creates a curse in which she is forever loved.

None of her features balance out how incredibly obnoxious Viserys finds her, though.

But, despite how Viserys loathes her enticing show, he is unable to keep himself from watching. She even accidentally trips over a loose cobblestone, and while she catches herself, she feels no embarrassment and continues to dance, a light smile still etched across her features, a laugh bubbling past her lips.

How pathetic, he thinks bitterly.

"Viserys!"

A small voice cries out, bringing his attention away from the dancing wood witch. His purple eyes blink a few times, now finding himself back on the ground. Viserys takes one last glance towards the singing girl, seeing her verdant eyes drift over him and his large home before prancing away, voice still singing her songs and arms out to dance with whomever wishes.

Viserys scoffs, turning on his heel to search for his little sister, quickly drowning out the voice belonging to the Flower of Pentos.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

TAGLIST:

@lindsay-got-lost-in-the-tardis​

IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE ADDED, LET ME KNOW!

[jbbarnesnnoble]

Goodnight and Joy Be to You All

Summary: You get into an accident and have a choice to make. 

Features: Description of injury; The Good Place spoilers; non-canon compliant MCU; non-canon compliant The Good Place; technical character death?

Pairing: Steve Rogers/Reader

Notes: I just started watching The Good Place and this happened 

Word Count: 2878 + a bonus 177

Somehow, you never expected it to go like this. It seemed almost anti-climatic. You had been in the city, away from the compound, buying a gift for Christmas, the first since the Blip. Steve had made the decision to stay, something that still surprised you. It wasn’t to say you weren’t grateful, you were. But you would be lying if you said you hadn’t expected him to take advantage of the opportunity in front of him. Bucky had cautioned you of as much. 

But it seemed now that it was all for naught. You lay on the pavement in midtown Manhattan, screams around you as you’re helpless to do anything. A cab sped through the red light and you had been directly in its path. You only felt pain. You felt like something had pierced your skin. You managed to get a glimpse of your abdomen, where a piece of metal was protruding. You felt yourself drifting, too panicked to think of anything else as a medic attended to you.

“Shit, shit we’re losing her!” was all you heard as it grew harder to stay alert. 

You woke up, but you weren’t sure where you were. You were sitting on a couch. A man with white hair and glasses popped his head out of the door, calling your name.

“Normally, I’d be explaining to you where you are, but you aren’t anywhere. You aren’t in the Good Place nor are you in the Bad Place or the Medium Place. You, my friend, are in limbo,” Michael said. The blonde woman beside him gave him a look and you got the feeling he was withholding some information. 

“Limbo?” you asked. The last thing you remembered was getting ready to cross the street in midtown after running some errands. You had found the perfect present for Steve and the next thing you knew you had woken up here. You had to be in some weird dream. 

“Very rare. See, normally in your universe you go somewhere else and the Soulworld exists in...anyway that may be too complicated for our purposes here. All afterlifes across dimensions and universes are connected in someway. You happened to end up here. Limbo. You’re not alive, but you aren’t dead. You have a decision to make. And as part of a...court agreement...we’ve been assigned to help you make your decision,” he said.

“When you say ‘we’ who exactly do you mean?” you asked. 

“Hi. Eleanor Shellstrop. Nice to meet you Miss Renegade ma’am. Big fan of your work. Always wanted to be like you Avengers...well, where I’m from you’re in a movie and your actress is kind of a bench, honestly I probably would have gotten along with her. Anyway, my friends Chidi, Tahani, Jason and I are going to help you decide. Janet has created a place for us to work through this,” the blonde woman said. If you weren’t so confused and concerned, you probably would have been amused. 

“Is my actress at least attractive? Sam and I kind of have a bet on who would play us if an alternate universe existed where our lives were action movies,” you said. You might as well have fun with this. Whatever this was. Eleanor looked at you and grinned.

“Dude, she was slamming,” Eleanor said. She led you out of the room and out to the outside. It was a grassy area. It reminded you of the lake outside of Tony’s cabin. You screamed when someone appeared beside you. 

“Janet, I thought we talked about this whole just appearing thing,” Eleanor said. She introduced you to the three others who would be helping you and explained who Janet was. 

“She reminds me of FRIDAY,” you said.

“Is Friday hot? I bet she’s hot,” Jason said. Eleanor smacked his arm. You blinked as you looked at him. He seemed to be a few crayons short of a full pack. 

“Jason, not the time,” she said. You had to laugh at it. Your heart ached a little bit. The dynamic at play reminded you a bit of home, of your friends, your family. 

“Friday is an AI designed by Tony Stark,” you said.

“Dude...you know Tony Stark? How did Infinity War go? I kinda died before it came out. Black Widow is so sexy,” Jason said. You just looked at him and then at his friends.

“Really?” you asked, crossing your arms. You tried to remind yourself that to him, your life was fiction. It didn’t help in the slightest. You were an Avenger and you could think of multiple ways to get him to shut up. Was murder frowned upon in limbo? Could you murder someone while you were in limbo? You had so many questions. Eleanor and Chidi shared a look before Eleanor spoke. 

“He’s...from Florida,” Eleanor said. You nodded in understanding. That explained a lot about the man. While you were still annoyed with the man, you couldn’t fault him for being from Florida. Something about that state just brought out the weird in people. You, Tony, and Bruce had once hypothesized that if it wasn’t the water, then maybe there was some lost alien tech buried somewhere in the Everglades or something. There was no way the state was just like that, you thought. 

“Was this Tony Stark wealthy? I knew the man who played him in the movies! Robert always did throw the best parties. And oh, that Chris Evans, I went on a date with him once, but, I was too much woman for him,” Tahani said. 

“Right. So. Michael mentioned something about me making a decision. Can’t I just decide and that’s it?” you asked. Chidi sighed. You looked at him curiously as he gestured for you to sit on a bench that appeared out of nowhere.

“Unfortunately, it isn’t that simple. The rules of limbo demand you weigh your options before making your decision. Really evaluate your life. We can look to philosophy to help with this decision,” he said. 

“Does anyone else find it funny that he’s the one telling her to make a decision? No? Just me?” Tahani asked. 

“Not the time,” Eleanor said. Chidi requested a chalkboard from Janet and it appeared. He divided it into two sides. Reasons to return to your body and reasons to move on. He handed you the chalk and you stood, walking up to the board. You thought for a moment. Under the ‘reasons to return’ side you put family.

“Okay, why family?” Tahani asked.

“It’s not my blood family. We’ve...we’ve already lost a lot this year. The last five years. The Snap, the Blip, fighting Thanos a second time, losing Tony, losing Natasha. I don’t know if they can lose me too,” you said. 

“Someone certainly thinks highly of themselves,” she said. You glared at her.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked.

“Wait...Iron Man and Black Widow die? Man! I want my money back!” Jason said with a groan. Everyone turned their heads to look at him. You were three seconds away from smacking him upside the head yourself. You took a breath, reminding yourself that where he was from, you and the rest of the team were simply fictional characters.  

“It wasn’t an insult if that’s what you’re thinking. I simply mean that you are so confident in your relationships,” she said. 

“Right,” you said. You added more reasons to the board, avoiding putting anything on the side for reasons not to return. It didn’t take long for them to call you out on it.

“There must be some reason you wouldn’t want to go back,” Eleanor said. 

“No, nope. I want to go back,” you said. 

“You’re scared of something,” she said. 

“Things are only just getting back to normal. Half the universe was wiped out for five years. We lost good people to bring them back,” you said quietly. 

“And you helped do that,” she said. You nodded.

“I think we need to bring in some help,” Chidi said. You looked at him, about to ask him what he meant when you saw two people you thought you’d never see again walk out of the cabin. You stumbled backwards in disbelief. Walking down the stairs of the cabin were Tony and Natasha. 

“Holy fork...fork...what the fork,” you said. You were definitely not saying fork. 

“Oh, right. You can’t curse here because technically limbo exists as part of the Good Place. And there’s no cursing in the Good Place. You get used to it,” Eleanor said. You walked toward them. You felt tears stinging your eyes.

“Is...is this real? Or is this a creation of this dimension?” you asked, your voice breaking. Tony didn’t respond. He just wrapped you in a hug. You sobbed as you wrapped your arms around him. He felt real. You felt Natasha’s hand on your back, rubbing soothing circles.

“They pulled us from our own afterlife for this, kiddo,” Tony said as you pulled away. You looked over at the group.

“I swear, if this is a forking joke, I will forking kill you all. I don’t care how dead you already are,” you said to them. 

“Forking? Just say forking...what the fork?” Tony asked. Natasha seemed amused by it. 

“We’re technically in the Good Place or something? I don’t know. I wasn’t really listening when Eleanor explained it to me. Considering this isn’t our universe’s version of the afterlife,” you said. 

“You’re not dead yet. You’re in limbo. And you need to decide,” Natasha said. 

“But I did decide. I want to go back,” you said. She sighed.

“Your decision has to consider both sides. The universal fabric won’t accept it until it’s satisfied that you really thought it through,” Natasha said. 

“How do you know that?” you asked.

“When they came to bring us here, they explained it to us. So, let’s talk. What reasons would you have for not returning to the Earth?” she asked. 

“There aren’t any,” you said. She raised an eyebrow.

“Go on vacation recently?” she asked. 

“Nat, we don’t do vacations. And I wouldn’t consider death a vacation. It’s kinda permanent. Except y’know when Thanos snaps half the universe out of existence and we bring them back. Oh, except for you,” you said. She put her hands up.

“I did what I had to. We all knew there were risks to our mission. You’re deflecting,” she said.

“If I chose to stay here. Would I see you and Tony? Would we ever see the others again?” you asked. She touched your face, a comforting gesture.

“Our universes’ version of this is different. We would be able to see you whenever you wanted, whenever we wanted. We would see them again,” she said. You nodded.

“Tasha...do you regret it?” you asked. She shook her head, taking your hand in hers as the two of you sat on the bench. 

“No. I could never regret that decision. Not if it means we brought everyone home and from what I heard, we did. We won. We can all rest now,” she said. You closed your eyes as you took a breath. 

“What about you Tony?” you asked, looking up at him where he stood. He gave you a sad smile.

“Do I regret that I won’t see Morgan grow up? Sure. She’s my kid. Of course I wish I could be there for her. Do I regret that I put an end the Thanos? That sacrificing myself means that the universe is safe from him? No. I don’t. I would choose to sacrifice myself every time, kiddo. Every time,” he said. You felt tears stinging your eyes again. You stood and wrote on the other side of the board, your reasons for staying in the afterlife. There were two. You would get to rest. You would also be reunited with Tony and Natasha. A light started to engulf you. You started to panic and it faded. The four people you had forgotten were there all groaned.

“You almost made a choice. Almost,” Eleanor said.

“She might be as bad as Chidi when it comes to making a decision,” Tahani said.

“Hey!” Chidi said. 

“You know I’m right,” she said. You looked at your two friends. You knew what decision you were making. You just needed to do something first. You hugged Natasha and Tony one last time. Natasha gave you a message, you just hoped that you would remember it. You made your way to the four people who had been tasked with helping you.

“Do you think I have a chance with Black Widow?” Jason asked you. You gave him a look.

“Dude, she isn’t even in this universes’ afterlife. So. No. Besides I thought you two had a little something going on?” you asked pointing between him and Tahani.

“No...no, why would you think...no,” Tahani said. 

“Sure Jan, sure,” you said with a smirk. You felt the warmth again, just before you saw the light starting to engulf you. The last thing you saw was Tony and Nat, watching as you disappeared. When you woke up, you felt pain. The room was bright and had the sterile smell of a hospital. Someone’s hand was in yours. When your eyes focused, you saw Steve. You couldn’t speak with everything you were hooked up to, but that was quickly dealt with. His eyes were shining with tears.

“Thought we lost you for a bit there,” he said. You nodded, taking a small sip of the water he held to your lips. 

“I was...was in a weird place. I saw Tony and Nat. Nat said, she said to tell you Box 107 in Metuchen, New Jersey. Said you would know what it meant,” you said. She had told you two things. One to tell Steve that. The other was a message for Clint. Recognition flashed across Steve’s face.

“You really saw her, huh?” he asked. You nodded. 

“It was so weird. Some dude named Michael said I was in Limbo. And there were these four people who had to help me but they weren’t from our universe they were from an alternate version. Something about a court order...I didn’t think the afterlife had a justice system,” you said. You had a steady stream of visitors while Steve stayed by your side. When Clint showed up, that was when you asked Steve to leave the room. He didn’t want to.

“You only just woke up after being out for a week,” he said.

“Steve, remember what we talked about earlier?” you asked. He sighed.

“Fine, but I’ll be right outside,” he said. You rolled your eyes.

“Okay dear. Run along now,” you teased. He shook his head as he chuckled. When you and Clint were left alone it took you a minute to find your words.

“I was in Limbo. I don’t care if you believe me or not, Clint, but, I saw her. And I saw Tony. They helped me make my decision. Tasha told me to pass along a message. She wants you to know, she doesn’t regret her decision. That it was worth it if it meant you got Laura and the kids back and that they didn’t lose you in the process. She wants you to know how thankful she is for everything you did for her. And then she told me if you don’t believe me to tell you that ‘you and I remember Budapest very differently’ whatever that means,” you said. Clint just pulled you into a hug. You yelped as it pulled on some of the things you were hooked up to.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said. The two of you fell into light conversation before Steve returned. He had real food with him. In that moment, you weren’t sure who or what you were more in love with, Steve or the burger he set in front of you. 

“Easy, you need to eat slowly,” Steve said. 

You were going to be spending a few more days in the medical wing. Thought the compound had been destroyed by Thanos, it had been rebuilt in the aftermath. You had been transferred from the hospital in the city to the compound after you had been stabilized. 

“How are you feeling?” Bucky asked when he came in to check on you. He had finally convinced Steve to leave for longer than thirty minutes. 

“Tired, confused. I don’t know if it was some elaborate dream or not. It felt real though. Seeing them,” you said. 

“What was it like?” Bucky asked. You laughed a little.

“Weird. I was in a place called Limbo, which is apparently a catch all place for every universe. The people helping me were from a different universe where our lives are fiction. This guy Jason from Florida asked if he had a chance with Nat. It was all so bizarre. Apparently it’s all connected and I don’t fully understand it. Honestly I stopped paying attention halfway through the explanation,” you said. Bucky just laughed at the ridiculousness of what you were saying. You fell asleep that night feeling at peace for the first time since the dust had settled from the battle with Thanos. 

Bonus:

“You think she’s getting it on with the Winter Soldier or Captain America?” Jason asked when the woman disappeared. Tony and Natasha shared a look. 

“Jason...you know what, never mind, I don’t want to know,” Chidi said. 

“Alright, Breakfast Club, are we going to be sent back to our afterlife now? I was in the middle of something,” Tony said.

“If you go back into the cabin, a portal should be there that will take you back to your universe’s afterlife,” he said. 

“Is she going to be okay? Will she remember this?” Natasha asked.

“As far as living, yes, she’s going to have another chance. But we don’t know if she’ll remember being here. That’s not something we decide. We’re just humans who got sent to the Bad Place who then tried to get into the Good Place...and...you know what, I don’t think that’s important,” Eleanor said. Natasha looked at her skeptically but she wasn’t going to question things. She was ready to get back to where she belonged in her own universe.

[fatrainbowmermaidunicorn]

That Girl Will Never Be Mine (Taehyung x You ONESHOT)

A/N: I always feels Tae is a possesive lover too. I always feel that because he is so good looking and also an incredible person, he (or people) might think that he will get whoever he likes but I think he will somehow fall in love with a girl who didnt fall for him at first sight like most and had to actually work to get her. So, I love your idea of "shes so beautiful, she has a lot of suitors" because a little competition andd a jealous tae? Well, that sounds like a plotline to me ❤ and I am sorry if this is not my best work

Also,this is inspired by this  drabble with the same title. You can read the drabble here first or just continue reading this story 💜

MASTERLIST

A/N : And also, I’m trying a new thing here and you are in no way obligated to do it but if any of you like my stories and want to give some support, why not buy me a coffee? ☕💜

Taehyung waves off to the screaming fans one last time before the stage recline down, hiding all seven members from the crowd, his face etches from smiling.

"Good job guys! Another successful show, I am proud of you," Namjoon patted each of their backs and ruffles Jungkook's hair before bowing and thanking the rest of the staff, crew and their team for another successful concert in their tour. The other six members, including Taehyung did the same and retreats back to the dressing room, slumping hinself on the chair. Taehyung took out his phone as the others starts chit chatting, discussing about whether they should take a shower now of wait until they are back in their hotel room while some are already removing their makeup and changing out of their stage outfits. Taehyung glanced at his phone.

Of course.

Dozens of texts and misscalls, hundreds of notifications, but none from that one person that he actually want to hear from.

None from Y/N.

Taehyung lets out a frustrated sigh as he scrolls emotionlessly through the texts.

"Oh wow, hyung got a lot of booty calls," Jungkook laughs as he reads Taehyung's text over his shoulder. "Baby, call me after your concert. Taetae, my room number is 801, Tae, remember me?" Jungkook read the texts in a girly voice, mimicking the flocks of girls who left the texts.

"Shut up brat," Taehyung roll his eyes and tossed the phone on the dressing table.

"Why are you so grumpy? Maybe you should take on one of those invitation then, to ease up a little hyung," Jungkook laughs and went over to his station.

"No thanks. Not interested,"

"Kookie, you should know by now Tae is only interested in girls who is not interested in him," Namjoon laughs out loud. Taehyung glares at the leader through the mirror.

Fine, make fun of him. He dont care.

"Why is it so hard to even reply to any of my texts? I left her multiple before we started the show!" Taehyung grumble.

"Shes just not interested in you Tae. Wake up already!" Jimin chimes in. "Dont you ever think that you didnt see her because shes practically hiding from you? Shes not interested, move on already,"

"She might not be now, but I'll make sure she will be mine soon enough," Taehyung greeted his teeth with determination.

"We just finished a good show. A bunch of girls just passed out because you look their way and Y/N is the first thing you can think about?"

"Shes always what I'm thinking about Chim! I dont care how many girls want me, all I want is her. Urghh, what is it about me that she hates so much anyway?" Taehyung leans towards the mirror and examine himself. Why wont Y/N like him? What is he lacking? "Thats it, I'm calling her!"

"Suit yourself. We all know theres no point in stopping you anyway," Jimin shrugged and walks away.

Taehyung immediately reached out for his phone that he tossed earlier and press speed dial number one.

Mine ❤

After a few rings, Y/N picks up. Well, she kind of have to. They are friends. Its not weird for her to answer his calls  Although Taehyung wants nothing more than to be more than friends ever since he met her that first day BigHit sent him and Jimin to their new highschool. Just a shy, absolutely beautiful, art student. Taehyung who was usually easy going and friendly suddenly turned tounge tied when hes around her, but someway, some how, he managed to be friends and the two of them and a few other friends become a whole group of besties. That was way back, and what Taehyung hope to only be a highschool crush develop into a full on feeling of in love.

Kim Taehyung is in love with Y/N, and its either she didnt know it or pretended that she doesnt.

"Hello? Y/N?" The line was noisy on the other side. Is she outside? If she does, with who? Not with men right? Why didnt she tell him shes going out? He texted her all the time to tell her what hes doing. Eating, praticiting, shooting, recording, everything!

"Tae? Taehyung! Hiiii! I thought you are busy on tour! Why are you calling?" Y/N's voice sounded chirpy, and it immediately melts his heart. All thoughts of anger melted away. Thats how big of an impact Y/N has on him.

"The concert just finished..." he grins. Baby. Urghh he wanted so bad to say those words to her, to call her that, but he knows he cant. Y/N only sees him as a friend. For now. "Didnt you read any of my texts?" he questioned out loud, wandering why didnt be received any reply from her.

"Oh sorry Tae. I'm outside with the gang and I didnt expect you to call, or text me, since you are on tour and all," Y/N giggles. "Oh my god, you should have seen Jae hyun! What he did was so funny! He-"

"Why is it so noisy? Iant it late at night there? Are you at a bar? Are you out drinking? Since when do you even drink?! When are you coming home?" Taehyung cuts her off, not interested to know about Jae Hyun or any other guy for that matter, especially one that is making her laugh. He should be the only one who makes her laugh!

"Well, the gang are. You know I dont drink Tae," Y/N giggles. "Why are you calling?"

Her question turn Taehyung's mood turned sour immediately. Here he is, missing her like crazy even in the middle of tour, in the mjddle of a super busy schedule and she dont even bother to read his text on the account of being outside having fun with some guy? Sure, Jae Hyun is one of his bestfriends too. In fact, he is sure Y/N is hanging out with their usual gang, but its not fair how they are outside living their normal life with Y/N and he is here, stuck performing. He wants to go out with Y/N too!

Yeah, people say hes lucky. To be debuting, to have a great career and awesome brothers as his band members and sure, Taehyung is happy and grateful too. But if only Y/N is his, then his life would be perfect. Y/N and him used to be the closest duo in their group but all that changes after he debuted. Packed, busy schedules take his time away from his friends, and Y/N and little by little they drifted apart, and now, with his packed schedule all year round, he dont know if he can recreate the closeness between him and Y/N again. Oh, how he wished his longing and feelings for her dissapeared just like their closeness.

Its true what Jungkook said. He can have his pick from the various girls in his phonebook, but none of them can even come close to how Y/N makes him feel.

"I'm just calling my best friend. Is that wrong?" Taehyung snapped. "If that best friend bothered to checked and replied my texts, hundreds of them, I wouldnt have to call now would I?"

"Tae... I'm sorry. I really didnt noticed, and I was just asking," Y/N's sighed sadly. "Why are you angry at me? Please dont be ang-"

"Just forget it! Have fun with the boys!" Taehyung angrily hangs up the call, huffing.

He knows he shouldnt be mad. Heck, he has no right to be mad, they are friends, and Y/N is not obligated to reply lr answer his calls if she didnt want to, but thats how it always is. He got angry when he thinks about how she is fine without him. He gets mad when he thinks about every second shes with someone else and not him. He didnt talk to any of his friends for a month once when Y/N has a boyfriend for two weeks before.

Afterall, he is Kim Taehyung. Theres nothing he hates more than what he cant have. and right now, thats Y/N.

/////

Y/N sighed and slipped her phone back in her bag.

"Is that your boyfriend?" Her best friend giggles, knowing how uncomfortable Y/N will be when she calls Taehyung that.

"He is not my boyfriend!" Y/N denies quickly. "But yes, its Taehyung,"

"I really dont get you Y/N. Kim Taehyung wants you. The Kim Taehyung! And you rejects him? Boy, you are really something else," her friend shakes her head. "The best friend turned idol slash international superstar and still madly in love with the best friend from high school only happens in fan fictions Y/N, and yet here you are. Happening right to you, and you rejected him? What is so wrong with Taehyung anyway?" She looks straight into Y/N's eyes trying to find and answer. When she find none, she shrugs. "Just, I dont know, think about it okay? Maybe its not such a bad idea, to be with him,"

"What are you even talking about? Taehyung is my best friend. Our, best friend," Y/N looks at her in disbelief. All of them hangs out together since they were teenagers doing homework together, its not possible for Taehyung to likes her. Especially now when he practically owna the world. Most of their friends had said that Taehyung harbour feelings for her, but that couldnt be true right? They are just friends. Have been for a long time even before Taehyung debuted. Sure, he was a trainee when they met and Y/N enjoyed being his friend. Sure, they were the closest duo before, maube Taehyung is a bit fond of her rather thab the others, but in love? Y/N chuckle to herself. It cant be.

She cant deny that Taehyung is really good looking, funny, charming, attractive and owns all the others positive things about him. and at one point in their friendship, she did have a crush on him. The two of them were so close when they first met. They did everything together, they are the typical high school bestfriends that are inselarable. But after Taehyung debuted.. well, thats when things starts to change for them. Is it his busy schedule or is it his changing attitude now that he is an idol that makes them drift apart, she cant tell, but one thing is for sure, the feelings she thinks she had before has dissapeared.

"Yeah, a friend. To us, not to you Y/N. I am pretty sure he wants to be more than that," Soo Young grins.

"No he doesnt! You know Tae is nice! He treat all his friends nicely," Y/N shrieks, but she knows its no point. They jabe had this argument a million times before.

"He is nice but I dont see hundreds of text from him in my inbox. Or sudden anger when I hang with a bunch of guys," she smirks. "Just face it will ya? Kim Taehyung loves you, and definitely more than just a friend,"

"Stop it Soo Young, he does not!" Y/N tries to deny it, but looking at the text Taehyung just sent her, Y/N got a feeling that somehow maybe her friend is right.

I'm sorry for snapping at you Y/N. I am just tired with tour and I miss you. I miss you very much and it just.. you know.. affect my mood. I'll call you early tomorrow morning okay?

Xoxo, Tae

/////

Taehyung woke up early the next morning, which is unusual for him, especially the morning after a full blown concert. But sleep is not an option when all he can think about is Y/N and how he unnecessarily snapped at her last night. Granted, he did this so many times already. His jealousy always takes over and he always ended up snapping at her, which leave him with a big sense of regret later.  But he just cant control himself. Taehyung just wants Y/N all for himself.

Sure, he sent her a text saying sorry. And he waited for hours for her reply. Just a simple OK would do, but none. Y/N didnt reply anything. Is she that mad at him? Did his jealousy finally blew his relationship, if there was even any, over?

Taehyung sighed and ran his hand through his hair before reaching up for his phone.

1 new message.

With excitement and sheer hope, Taehyung quickly click it open, hoping and praying that it would be Y/N.

And sure it is, there, the name he waited so all night to grace his screen appeared.

Mine ❤

Even better, it wasnt just a text, but a photo. A photo of her beautiful face smiling at the camera, which looks like shes inside a plane, with a ticket held up covering half her face, showing the destination. Taehyung scrolled down to read the caption, heart racing.

Sorry Taetae, I fell asleep lastnight the moment I got home. Me and the gang are on our way to you ❤ we are attending your tour! Surprise! See you in a few hours.

Is this reall happening? Shes not angry at him. She coming to see him!

Y/N is coming to see him perform! Taehyung grins widely to himself, letting out a deep chuckle without realizing. He has never felt this happy in his whole life.

Y/N is coming to see him! Nevermind that shes coming with the whole gang, that part was long forgotten by Taehyung already. This is finally going to be the best tour ever!

/////

"Hey Tae, I think your schoolnates are here. They managed to pushed through and be at the front," Hoseok turns back to Taehyung after peeking through the curtain from the backstage. Its minutes to their concert for that night, at the crowd is packed, expected of another sold out concert, but Taehyung cant seems to stop talking about how his "gang" from school is coming tonight, so Hoseok cant resist but to give it a peak.

"Hobi, I think you got it wrong. Tae doesnt care about his friends. What matters is, is Y/N there?" Namjoon chuckles as Taehyung gives him a glare.

"Yah, I care about both my friends and Y/N hyung. Okay fine, I care about Y/N a little more," he grins. "Is she there Hobi-hyung?"

"Cant see really clearly, but I think so, yes Tae," Hoseok rolls his eyes. All of the boys knows what Y/N looks like by now. Well, they should, with how much Taehyung talks about her, showing her pictures to them. "This is going to be the best show you will ever give dont you Kim Taehyung?" Hoseok smirks.

"What are you even talking about?" Taehyung shrugs, feigning ignorance. "I always give my best performance hyung,"

"Yeah?" Hoseok looks at the younger man, who is grinning from ear to ear and laughs. "If you say so Tae. But I can tell tonight is going to be better," he chuckles.

Its obvious to everyone, Kim Taehyung is absolutely whipped by his own classmate. A girl who he will never get.

/////

Taehyung felt giddy all over. He cant wait to start. He have all this energy in him and he just cant stop smiling. This is the first time Y/N actually came and see him perform live. Sure, she and the gang has watched his performances on tape and videos before, but shes right here, in front of him, at the front row of his concert. There might be thousands filling up the stadium tonight, but Taehyung already knows that his eyes will only be seeing one person throughout the night.

/////

His eyes search the crowd the moment they entered the stage, followed by a huge roar of shouts and applause from the crowd. But nothing can distract him from locking his eyes on Y/N tonight. He expects to see her looking at him, smiling and waving, cheering him on, fueling his energy and passion more, but what did he see?

Y/N is not even looking at the stage.

In fact, shes busy talking, no, giggling, like a school girl in front of their crush with some guy who is standing beside her.

What the actual hell?

Taehyung is pretty sure he dont know him. He must be some random fan attending the concert. But why is he obviously flirting with his girl? Just like what he intended to do, Taehyung cant stop keeping his eyes of them, although its more glaring at the two of them rather than looking at Y/N now. And seriously, those two just wont stop laughing and talking. Why does this always happen? Why does she have to be so freaking beautiful? Attracting guys anywhere she went?! Taehyung growls to himself.

This is not a coffee shop for them to have a date! Its a damn concert.

So watch the damn concert already!

"Tae!" Namjoon hissed at him backstage as the 6 of them retrieve back to give space for Jungkook's solo. "What the hell is going on?"

"What do you mean hyung?" Taehyung sighed and plop down on one of the couches, gulping down a bottle of water  . He knows exactly what Namjoon is talking about, but there is no way he is going to admit that.

"Oh please, you know exactly what I am talking about. Keep your head in the show Tae. And stop screwing up!" Namjoon huffed and walked away. Taehyung sighed. He knows he should focus on the show, its only for two hours, but how can he when the girl of his dream is right in front of him, and shes not even looking at him?

Taehyung tried to concentrate for the rest of the show, but failed miserably. He missed a lot of the cheography, accidentally hit the other members on stage, causing them to stumble and even forget a few of the lyrics. All the while, glaring and shooting daggers at Y/N and the guy's direction. Sure, his fans thinks its cute and assume that its part of the performance, some even say Taehyung is giving off an angry vibe which is considered hot and sexy, but the other members knows better and by the end of the show, all of them shakes their head and shot him a look of dissapointment.

Taehyung sighed, dissapointed at himself for letting a girl mess with his head as he takes off his makeup and change out of his stage costumes.

"Taetaeeee! Your performance is amazing!"

Taehyung whipped his head around to see the girl that is haunting his life  smiling and beaming cheerfully at him. Shit, how can he forgot he invited her to backstage later. He even offered to take Y/N out for coffee after the show and send her home and why is it he suddenly feel his anger start to dissapear just from aeeing her face?

No, keep your ground Taehyung. She should know what she did!

"Really?" Taehyung snickered. "How can you know?"

"Huh? What do you mean Tae?" Y/N took a step forward and looks at him with confusion.

"You said my performance is great. How did you even know? You are so busy selling yourself to some guy you just met!" Taehyung is full of anger now that the image of the two of them flashes back into his mind.

"What? Taehyung. Why are you saying things like this? He is just a new f-"

"I dont want to hear it," Taehyung raised a hand to stop her. "Know what, just go home Y/N. Im tired and Im going to have some rest," Taehyung starts to pick up his bag and start to walk out but Y/N held back his hand.

"Tae, whats wrong? You said we can go out to coffee to catch up or something remember?"

"Do you think I'm in the mood to have coffee right now Y/N?!" Taehyung pulls backs his hand aggressively.  "Just go home! Ill see you later,"

"But Tae. I-"

"Just go. Bye," without listening to another word from Y/N, Taehyung walks out, slamming the door behind him, missing what Y/N said next.

"But Tae.. I have asked everyone else to go back and I have no way to go home now.." Y/N sighed and slowly makes her way out into the dark night, figuring her way back to her hotel and why Taehyung is acting that way.

/////

"Where are you going hyung?" Jungkook stretches on the couch and look at Taehyung whos wearing his jacket, ready to go out.

"I am having lunch with all my friends who came to the show last night. Ill be back before dinner. See you Kookie," Taehyung gives a small give, which is reciprocate by Jungkook and start the small walk towards the restaurant they had booked.

His mind starts to reel back to the night before. He immediately went to bed when he reached the hotel last night. When he wakes up today there was no message or misscall from Y/N. What does he expect? He is the one who rudely asks her to leave, she wouldnt be textiing him to ask him how he is doing. He should be the one doing that. Until when will he realized that he has no right to get jealous and even when he does, Y/N wont understand why.

Taehyung sighed.

Y/N's surprise and sad face from last night filled his mind again. Is he too mean? He picks up his pace, wanting to see her faster. She will be at the restaurant right? She wouldnt bailed on their group lunch just because shes mad at him.

Entering the restaurant, Taehyung spotted the long table filled with the familiar faces of his friends, laughing among one another. His eyes grazed each seat but Y/N is no where in sight.

"Oh Tae! Come on over!" One of his friends who noticed him spacing out at the door calls him in, breaking him out of his thoughts.

"Theres our superstar! Good show yesterday," another slapped his back and motioned for him to sit. Taehyung gives out polite smiles before asking the question he dreadfully want the answer to.

"Wheres Y/N?"

"Y/N? Oh you didnt know? She has a high fever. she was caught up in the heavy rain last night," Soo Young answered and eyed him skeptically. "Arent you with her? I thought you two went for coffee?"

"Wait. Fever? Rain?" The question immediately went passed him. All he can think about is how Y/N is sick right now. "Arent you guys together? Why are you guys all okay?"

"Together?" Soo Young raised an eyebrow. "But she told us to go on home first to meet you backstage. She said you are taking her out to catch up and you are going to send her home?"

"What? She-"

"Are you telling me you let her went back alone? In the middle of the night? In a city she never been to before?" Jae Hyun interrupt from the other end of the table. Just the fact that Jae Hyun is concerned and also he himself is looking like a real jackass right now sets Taehyung on fire.

"Shut up. Just.. where is her hotel?"

"Why?" Jae Hyun glares. Taehyung ignores him and turns to Soo Young. After a few seconds of intimidating glare and Y/N's whereabouts in his hand, he quickly say goodbye and ran off in her direction.

Good job Kim Taehyung. Not only did you get angry at you dream girl for no reason at all. You snapped at her, insulted her,left her alone, and you even make her sick. Great, fucking job. Maybe the boys are right, Y/N will never be yours.

/////

"T-tae?" Y/N open her tired eyes to feel the wet cloth on her forehead only to be met with Taehyung's handsome face etched with worry, looking over her.

"Hey.. you are awake. How are you feeling?" He smile. A smile so beautiful that Y/N cant helped but smile back, although in her heart she is still deeply hurt by his action last night.

"Why are you here? How do you know where I am staying? Is this a dream?"

Taehyung laugh. Oh Y/N, how can anyone be this adorable?

"No, you are definitely not dreaming princess. I am here and I am going to nurse you back to health,"

"Okay, I am dreaming. You are calling me princess, thats weird," Y/N laughs. Taehyung realizes what he had slipped and give back a small smile.

"Just take a rest okay? Your temperature is going down, you will be better soon. I have also ordered you food. Ill feed you. Lets eat okay?" Taehyung helped her sits up and starts feeding her slowly. There is nothing he wont give to take care of Y/N like this every single day. Why cant she just let him?

"Thanks Tae. You really shouldnt have. You really are the best friend in the world," Y/N smiles as she keeps eating the food. Taehyung swallow the bitter truth and give her a small smile. Best friends. Of course, thats all he will ever be.

"Y-yeah of course. What are best friends for right?" He smile and swallow before uttering his next words. "Hey Y/N?"

"Yeah Tae?"

"I am really sorry about what I said to you last night. I dont have any right to get mad at you. And to leave you walking home alone? That is j-"

"Hey, dont worry about it Tae," Y/N smiles and patted his hand. "You must be tired and there I was yapping away aboit coffee and wanting to catch up," she giggles. "Sometimes I forgot that you are this huge world star now, always busy. You are no longer the same boy who is always around walking me home from school, buying ice cream on the way,"

Taehyung kept quiet. He didnt know why her words hurt him so much. Is that what she thinks of him all this while? That he has become too big to even hang out with his best friends? Is that why she is never interested in him, not at all?

"Y/N.. is that what you thought? All this while?" Taehyung look at her face, looking for answers.

"Well.. yeah. Isnt it? I mean, I know you are busy. Arent you?"

"Well, yes. But not-"

"Maybe someday when you finally have free time. Maybe 100 years from now," she giggles more at her own joke, " we can finally catch up. We can bring my children to an amusement park or something,"

Taehyung clenched his fist tight. He knows shes just joking around, but now he cant stop imagining Y/N happily married to some guy, with their kids running around. Oh hell no, he is never going to let that happen. Y/N is his, and he will make sure of it even if its the last thing he needs to do.

"Why wait a 100 hundred years then?" Taehyung flashed her his infamous smile.

"What do you mean?"

"What do you say, if your fever is better of course, that we go out to the amusement park tomorrow? Just us two? I heard they have a big one nearby. And we have an off day this whole week. So what say you?" Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes.

Y/N looks at him and a smile alowly crept up her face.

"Its a date,"

/////

"You are going to a god damn amusement park Tae, why are you fussing with your clothes so much?!" Jimin huffed for the hundred time as Taehyung rumnage through their closet for the thousand times.

"Chim, I told you. She said it herself! Its a date. A freaking date! I need to look good! God why is everything so ugly?! We dont have time to shop for bew clothes. I an doomed!" Taehyung sighed and slumped down on his bed, buried by a pile of clothes, frustrated.

"I think Y/N only meant it as a matter of speaking..." Jimin mumbled, because he knows its no point explaining it to someone as love struck as Taehyung is right now anway. "Tae, you already look good in anything. Just pick whatever okay. And if she does like you, it wont matter what you wear anyway,"

"You are right Chim. Y/N is not that petty to judge someone by appearance anyway," he smiled at the thought of her.  "Shes just perfect,"

Jimin chuckles at his lovestruck friend and shake his head, pulling the blanket, ready to sleep. Taehyung can day dream all he wants, buried in the pile of clothes. Hes going to bed. Jimin was about to drift off to sleep when he last heard what Taehyung said.

"I am so in love with the perfect girl Chim. I just wish shes mine already,"

/////

"S-so which one do you want to ride first?" Taehyung stammered, nervously wiping his sweaty hands on his pants. He is finally on a date with Y/N. An outing, just the two of them. Sure, Y/N might think this is only outing between friends, but who cares, its still a date to him, and she look so beautiful Taehyung cant think straight.

Shes dressed so casually in shorts and an oversized jumper, hair flying loose and looking so happy eating a cotton candy that she was so excited to buy the moment she saw it. And looking at all the other eyes staring at her, Taehyung knows that he is not the only one who thinks shes looking absolutely beautiful today.

Y/N has always been beautiful. That is one of her traits that caught his eye the first time he saw her in school.  But sometimes her beauty is too much that she attracts everyone wherever she goes, and that is not a good thing for Taehyung. Especially when he is so easily consumed with jealousy and he went crazy when he does.

Why? Why does she have to be so freaking beautiful?

"Lets do the teacup! Then we can ride the pirate ship anddd that huge rollercoaster!" Y/N points to all the rides while jumping excitedly. "Hey, you okay? Why are you stammering?"

"Uh... nothing. I am just uh.. scared of scary rides?" Taeahyung gives a crooked smile, hoping she would believe him. There is no way he going to admit why he is so nervous being around her. And come to think about it,  what he said is true. He is scared of scary rides, rides to his heart and its scary as hell.

"Dont worry. I will protect you!" She giggles and hold his hand. Taehyung almost fainted the moment they touched. God, keep yourself together Kim Taehyung! You are Kim freaking Taehyung! Heart, stop beating so fast. Its just hand holding. You held way more hands during fanmeets! "Lets go!" Y/N drags him to the long line of the teacup, where the staff handling the ride is oogling her with no shame. Taehyung clenched his hand, wanting nothing more than to scratch his eyes out.

"Wait here in line Tae, I'll ask him how long the wait is going to be," before Taehyung could stop her to approach the guy with the beady eyes who is still staring at her, Y/N is gone. Taehyung kept his eyes on them, watching as the guy smile and getting too friendly for his liking. What are they even talking about? Shes only supposed to ask how long the wait is!

Y/N suddenly waves at him excitedly to walk over and Taehyung came by.

"What is it?"

"This nice guy said he will let us cut the que. Isnt that nice?"

"Really now?" Taehyung looks at the guy up and down, who is looking back at him, smirking.

"Yes sir. You and your pretty girlfriend c-"

"Oh he is not my boyfriend! He is my best friend!" Y/N cuts him and Taehyung felt like his gut has been stabbed.

"Oh really now?" The guy raised an eyebrow. Taehyung swear he really feels like punching him now. "Well, then you can go on as many time as you want," he smiles and winks, offering hia hand to helped Y/N up the platform. Y/N laughed, totally oblivious of how every single guy is flirting with her, like always.

"Yeah. How can someone that handsome be with me right? Have you seen him?" Y/N laughs. "And thankyou, maybe I'll come back again if we have time after trying all the other rides," she bowed and enters the ride, sitting opposite from Taehyung. Taehyung smiles at her and ponders on her words.

Oh Y/N, if only you knew that you are the only one who owns this supposedly too handsome man's heart.

Taehyung's mood drop from extremely happy to worse than sour in a heartbeat. The same thing with the guy at the teacup ride happen all over again. And again. And again and keeps happening. Its as if the whole park is after his girl. Y/N gets to cuts all the line, gets free drinks, win a teddy that Taehyung tried so hard to win for her for free and the popcorn guy even gave her his number on the box. To make matters worse, she keeps denying they are in a relationship and keep stressing that they are just friends. Taehyung knows its true, they are not in a relationship, but must Y/N be so against it? Is being with him appalled her so bad?

Y/N was chattering happily, eating her free popcorn, talking about how everybody is so nice, not noticing Taehyung's sulky mood and how he is already consumed in jealousy when he saw someone he knew.

"Mia?"

Y/N looked up from her popcorn to see a beautiful young girl smiling and waving at Taehyung. She recognized her immediately. She is an idol too, must be Taehyung's work friend.

"Oh. Is that your friend? Let-"

"Mia, hi!" Taehyung immediately walked over to the girl, leaving Y/N behind. Well, Y/N has been flirting with everyone in the park with no regards to his feelings, maybe he would return the favor. Okay, he knows its not her fault, she dont even know the guys are flirting with her, but Taehyung knows he gets crazy easily when it comes to Y/N and jealousy, and this is one of the moment.

"Kim Taehyung! What are you doing here? Are you even allowed to wonder around an amusement park with this..." she looks at Y/N up and down with a disgusted look. "Person?"

"Oh uh hi. I-"

"Dont care," Mia shrugs and hold Taehyung's hand, dragging him away from Y/N as Y/N followed a few steps behind. "So I just finished a shoot here and my manager said I can spend the rest of the day enjoying the rides. Want to play with me?" Mia hugs his arms, leaning her head on his shoulder. Taehyung take a peek behind to look at Y/N. He wanted to pushed Mia away, tell her that hes spending the day with the girl of his dreams, but as he looks at Y/N, she is smiling at him, as if his close relationship with another girl doesnt effect her at all, and thats when he snapped.

He will always only be a best friend to Y/N. Nothing else, nothing more. Y/N will never be his.

And suddenly his heart is filled with jealousy and anger and the feeling of just... hurting her. To make her feel how he feel all this while.

"Yeah, sure Mia. Why not," he gives out his charming smile.

"Okay great! But what about... her?" She points to Y/N behind them.

"Oh her? No one special. She can follow us around," Taehyung shrugs and turns back. Y/N was surprised with his answer. Whats wrong with Taehyung now? Why is he behaving like last night again? Did she do anything wrong? Y/N decides to just follow them around for a while. Maybe they havent seen each other long, so they just want to catch up? Taehyung wont just ignore her for the rest of the day right?

Y/N's hopes dissapeared when hours passed and Taehyung didnt even talked or looked at her once. They didnt even ride the rides with her, taking a private car together, leaving her alone, riding with strangers. So much for an "amusement park date to catch up" Kim Taehyung.

Y/N sighed, but still follows them around.

Little by little, fans has started to gather as they realized that Taehyung and Mia are together, at an amusement park and at what look like a date. And soon enough, the crowd had gathered and followed them around to the point Taehyung's manager have to come. In the midst of the increasing crowd, Y/N being tiny and fragile got pushed by the fans who is trying to approached the couple and take photos before the moment is over, resulting in a scraped knees and bruises over her body. She tried to gets up and calls out for Taehyung, running behind them to catch up but was held back by the security.

"Sorry miss, please back off,"

"No. No. I am his friend. I was with him the whole day!" She points to the two celebrity.

"Yeah right, everybody said that," the security laughed and rolled his eyes. "You and these thousand other girls. Go home and study girl, stop chasing cleebrity around,"

"No. I am serious. He is my friend. Look, I have his jacket!" Y/N points to Taehyung's jacket that shes wearing. The one he gave her earlier because of the chilly evening air.

"Wait, are you a saseang?!" The security eyes her up and down.

"What?! Me? No! I am-"

The security ignored her and spoke into his walkie talkie and soon after a few more came and pushed her back.

"Miss, you have to stay about 1 kilometres away from Mr. Kim or legal actions will be taken against you. We dont tolerate saseangs,"

"But I am not.." Y/N sighed as she looks at Taehyung who is escorted away, not even looking back. "Nevermind. I'll back off," Y/N plop down at one of the benches and think about the way to go back to the hotel. Maybe she can just ask Jae Hyun for help.

"We heard what the security said," Y/N looks up to find a group of girls standing in front of her, circling her, hiding her from public sight. "You are a saseang arent you?"

"What? No! Its a misunderstanding. I am actually Tae's high school friend. I-"

"How dare you call him Tae you crazy stalker! Leave our oppa alone! He and his bandmates deserve some privacy you crazy bitch," the first girl shove her shoulder hard.

"No. Wait. I am not a-"

"Bitches like you deserve to die!" And before she can start defending herself the girls start shoving and hurting her, pulling her hair, slapping and punching her all over. Y/N is pretty sure they are the crazy one here.

Almost losing conciousness and bleeding all over, Y/N can only smirks to herself. I cant believe this is the way I will die. By being punch by Taehyung's fan.

/////

Who the hell is that guy?!

Taehyung paced around in his room. Before he was ushered back to the car by his manager at the theme park, he managed to sneak a look behind the crowding fans, and he saw, far away at the back some guy carrying Y/N bridal style. She is hugging his neck but Taehyung cant see her face or anything else.

Who is he?

Why is she letting him carry her like that?

And after what happen yesterday, Y/N is still not even a bit jealous?

Taehyung huffed and continue to pace around his room. His mind is going crazy. Y/N didnt contact him after nor did she reply to any of his texts and calls.

Maybe he really did it this time. Maybe Y/N is truly mad at him.

/////

Taehyung didnt see any of his friends after that anymore. They didnt answer his calls or his texts. They also didnt attend any of his shows anymore. Taehyung was confused. Is Y/N that mad at him for ditching her the other day? To the point she asks their friends to stop being friends with him? Doesnt that mean she has feelings for him then?

Taehyung needed answers, so he keeps on calling and texting. Plus, he misses Y/N lile crazy and he is starting to regret what he did the other day. After a few weeks of trying, Soo Young, fed up with his relentless effort in calling finally answered.

"What the hell so you want?!"

"Well, hello to you too. Is this how you talk to a friend?" Taehyung asks, confused on her behaviour.

"A friend?" She scoffed. "After what you did to Y/N, do you think you can call any of us friends again?!" So he was right. Y/N is pissed that he ditch her the other day.

"Wait. Just because I left Y/N at the amusement park you guys are not going to be friends with me anymore? Look, I know what I did was wrong. But I am s-"

"Left her at the amusement park? Its more like left her to die you asshole! And here I thought you actually love her!" Soo Young screamed out.

"Huh? D-die?" Taehyung stammered. what is she talking about?

"Y/N was in a freaking coma for a week because your crazy fans beat her up at the park you asshole! And you did freaking nothing to help! You think just because you are famous now you are better than your friends?! Just stop calling and stay the hell away from her!" Soo Young screamed at him but Taehyung is no longer listening as the phone he is holding dropped to the floor.

What has he done?

/////

Y/N opened her eyes to the smell of sterile and medicine, her eyes adjusting to the white walls around her. She tries to move but she cant, everything hurts.

Where is she?

The last thing she remembered after getting beat up is a guy's voice shouting at the girls who is assaulting her and carrying her before she passed out conpletely.

"Hey.. you are awake," Soo Young's voice spoke softly to her ear and her friends friendly face entered her vision.  Soo Young explained what happened. How she was in a coma for a week already, and how a stranger at a park save her and how they are all no longer friends with Taehyung.

Taehyung.

No matter how hard she tries, she cant figure out why Taehyung did what he did and Y/N finally give up in trying to figuring it out.

Y/N focuses on recovery, putting Taehyung to the far back of her mind. After a few weeks, her bruises and cuts got better but is still very much visible and she no longer needed a wheelchair, only crutches to walk. On a lazy weekend while watching her favorite drama and inhaling a carton of ice cream, a loud knock comes from the door. With her bad leg, she hopped to the door.

"Coming!"

Y/N opened the door to find Taehyung looking straight at her, a huge bouquet of flowers in hand.

"Y/N. I-"

Panicking, Y/N immediately slammed the door shut at his face, tears starts to stream down her face. She doesnt know why shes crying. But seeing Taehyung again, after everything that happens... it just bring out the emotions that she never knew she felt.

"Y/N?" Taehyung calls out softly, while knocking on the door. After a few minutes he realizes that Y/N is never going to open it, atleast not today, and decide to just say what he wanted to say from behind the door.

"Y/N? I know after what I did I dont even deserve to see you. And I know you hate me so much that you cant even bare to see my face. I know I am a few weeks too late but I came immediately after I found out. Y/N, I am sorry. I didnt know why I did what I did. And if I could turn back time I would, but I cant. I am sorry I ruined what could have been the happiest day for us and turned it into this... tragedy. I am really sorry. You dont know how badly I regretted everything. I will give up everything Y/N, just to take it back. I swear," Taehyung sighed. "I'm... I'm just going to leave this flowers here by the door. Its for you. And I will come back every single day. You dont have to see me. But I will come back and wait for you until you are ready. I am sorry Y/N," with that Y/N heard his footsteps slowly went away, leaving her alone with her tears.

And true enough, Taehyung came back every single day for the next few months. Y/N found out from the news that he skipped his tour just to do this. He must really be willing to do anything like he said. Everyday he will leave something for her. Flowers, cookies, teddies, books, anything and he will sits on the floor by the door and talk about his day and how sorry he is and how he misses her. And slowly, Y/N find herself waiting for his daily visits and the tears stopped, replaced by a smile and a few giggles.

After 4 months, Y/N decided to finally open the door and ask him one final question.

"Y-Y/N? You opened the door!" Taehyung smile, surprised and immediately hugs her. "S-sorry. I just miss you so much," he stares at her longingly, backing away.

"This doesnt mean I forgive you Tae,"

"Of course! Of course! But its progress! What do you want me to do Y/N? I'll do anything, even if it takes forever," Taehyung smiles and she knows he means it.

"Answer me this one question Tae. Answer me with honesty. No bullshit, no lies, no excuses, and I will decide if I want to forgive you,"

"Of course Y/N. What is it do you want to know? I'll answer anything. Anything at all,"

"Why?" Taehyung looks at her, confused. "Why are you always mad at me for no reason? Why are your mood always changing? Did I do something wrong? Do you hate me? Do you not want to be my friend anymore? Why?"

"Well... thats not one question," Taehyung chuckles.

"Taehyung..."

"Okay, okay. Kidding," Taehyung smiles and takes a deep breath. Its now or never. Its time to tell his dream girl, the truth.

"You want to know why? Its because of you Y/N. You are driving me crazy. from that first day I saw you in high school, I have been crazy about you, over you. I cant sleep, I cant think straight, I cant even be myself, all I can do is think about you and how to make you mine. How it feels if you are mine. If you love me back. I want you Y/N. I want to take care of you, to love you, to be the only face you think about every single day, to be the last face you see at night, the first face you see in the morning. Every single day I wonder, why cant I be that person for you? I love you L/N Y/N. I have been madly in love with you for years and I am sorry I have been acting crazy, but I just cant help it when I see other people looking at you or laughing with you. You are just so beautiful, so perfect to me, I am afraid that someone else will steal you away. I dont know how I will live if that happens. Jealousy is my best friend when I am around you and thats what happen that day. I knew now that you will never be mine, and I accept that. But I will take care of you from afar. And to answer your question, no, I dont want to be your friend, because I want to be so much more. But Y/N..," Taehyung smiles. "I have accepted it Y/N, that you will be the girl who will never be mine,"

Y/N feels her mouth dropped opened. Is Kim Taehyung really finally confessing to her?

"T-tae, I didnt know-"

"Hey, its okay. You didnt know. Atleast you didnt ignore my feelings on purpose," he smiles. "I am so sorry Y/N. I love you and I will do anything to make things right again. I regret everything I did,"

"Wait," Y/N stopped him. "So you are saying, that everything you did to me before, the mood changes, igboring me, getting angry, everything, is because you are jealous? And because you cant have me?"

"Well, yeah," Taehyung gave a small smile. "I love you too much that the thought of not having you drive me crazy. And you are just so beautiful, guys are always all over you,"

"But you said this will never happen again. Because..?"

"Because I finally accepted that you are the girl that I love, but you are also the girl that at will never be mine Y/N," Taehyung smile, a sad smile. Y/N giggles and took a step forward and held his hand.

Oh who is she kidding. She might have denied it to Soo Young and the rest of the gang, but who could ever resist Kim Taehyung?

Obviously not her. Because she is fi ally admitting to herself that she is desperately in love with her best friend. From that first day in high school. And how lucky is she that her best friend is Kim Taehyung.

"But Tae, whoever said that I will never be yours if you never ever asked me?" Y/N grins and the happiest smile slowly crept up Taehyung's face.

[psychicrunawaybouquet-aus]

Another lil spideychelle fic thingy

Ok so I’m not really a fanfic writer. I don’t even really normally read fan fiction (I just happen to have read pretty much all the spideychelle fanfics out there I’m like an encyclopaedia at this point)

Anyway every now and then I post something when I can be bothered, but I have realised I just really don’t have the patience to proof read and edit and commit to writing something... good.

The point is respect to the fanfic writers out there that provide A+ works. I can only imagine how much time it takes.

So this is a little fic, it’s kind of a love at first sight/college AU. Prepare for a lil bit of smut. You have been warned.

...........

It was one of those moments in life, where time seems to stop. Something seems different and there is a sense that something in your very soul has shifted. A crack, a change, an alteration. It’s the only way he can describe looking at her.

‘Peter.’ He hears vaguely in the distance.

‘Peter? Are you even listening?’ He hears more assertively.

Reluctantly he tears his eyes away from the woman across the room to face his friend. ‘Sorry Ned, start again.’

‘I said, Matt, you know, Matt from Chem is starting a dungeons and dragons club, I was wondering if you wanna join and bring beers on Tuesday?’

But Peter couldn’t help that his eyes seemed to be naturally wondering back to her. He has never seen her on campus before or at a party. Her wild curls framing her face, her tall willowy frame dressed in a fight the patriarchy shirt with ripped black jeans.

Suddenly a loud clicking sound resonated in his left ear. ‘Dude!’ Ned said. ‘You coming on Tuesday or not?’

‘Yeah sorry man.’ He answers only half interested.

‘What’s got in to you?’ Ned asked before following his eye line. Suddenly he felt Ned elbow his ribs beside him. ‘Go talk to her!’ His jovial friend encouraged.

‘No way Ned, she doesn’t even know me, she doesn’t want some creepy dude ruining her night.’

‘Normally I would agree with you, but you’re in luck my friend.’ Ned says as he tips his hat like a cowboy.

‘What do you mean?’ Peter asks, confused.

‘Well I happen to know that the young lady in questions name is Michelle Jones. She’s in my philosophy class annnddd she is good friends with Betty. So you know. I’ll go over, say hi and introduce you.’

‘Seriously? What a small world?’ Peter says, wondering how he has never happened across the mysterious curly haired Michelle before.

Ned scoffed ‘Peter, it’s college, I know a lot of people.’

Peter laughed. ‘You mean Betty knows a lot of people.’

‘Do you want me to introduce you or not?’ Ned questioned.

‘Alright alright. Do I look ok?’ Peter asked self consciously smoothing his shirt with his sweaty palms.

‘Yeah man, your Spider-Man.’ Ned says positively.  ‘But maybe like undo a button or something.’

On the way across the room, Peter took Neds advice and undid one of the top buttons to his plaid shirt. But quickly felt self conscious, so did it back up before they reached her.

‘Hey MJ!’ Ned called in front of him. ‘Fancy seeing you here.’

The girl, MJ. Turned and looked at Ned with apparent disinterest, but her face seemed to lighten a little as she recognised her classmate. ‘Oh hey Leeds. Where’s Betty? I haven’t seen her around?’

‘She’s in Maine with her family,’ Ned answered casually. Whilst Peter found himself gawking. MJ, Michelle Jones as Ned had called her, was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Seeing her from far away did her no justice. She wasn’t a classical beauty, she was so much more than that. She was different and oozed a sense of cool that Peter could never hope to achieve. She was as blinding as the sun, yet as trance inducing as an open flame. He noticed her eyes lightly flicker to him, before quickly looking back at Ned.

‘This is my friend Peter Parker.’ Ned added, moving aside and gesturing to him. ‘Peter this is...’

But before Ned could finish Michelle cut him off. ‘Michelle Jones.’ She said forcefully holding her hand out for Peter to shake. Peter offered her a warm grin, before taking her hand into his. Her palms are smooth and soft, her skin warm. For a split second it feels like she is not looking at him, but seeing right through him. She holds his hand for a fraction of a second too long before she drops her hand and tucks her hair behind her ear.

‘Does he speak?’ MJ says to Ned aggressively.

‘Oh, uh yeah Hi. Sorry.’ Peter supplied quickly.

She raised her glorious eyebrow and smirked. ‘You’re a real nerd aren’t you Parker?’

Peter went to open his mouth but she added ‘No don’t defend yourself, I can tell. You Peter Parker are a nerd.’

‘Is that a bad thing?’ Peter questioned. Looking at Ned who shrugged.

She considered him for a second looking him up and down. Peter feeling slightly self conscious and terrified.

‘Nope.’ She said popping the p sound. ‘Nope, these days, I’d even argue that it’s hip to be a nerd.’

‘So I’m... hip then?’ Peter asked as she took a sip from her red plastic cup.

She laughed. A strangely feminine musical kind of laugh which juxtaposed her personality. ‘I’m just messing with you Parker. So what’s your deal? What year are you?’

‘Oh ah I’m a freshman, I ugh came here from midtown tech with Ned.’ He said as he went to gesture to his best friend, who was suddenly no longer next to him.

‘Oh that’s cool, you Ned and Betty. It’s good to know people.’

‘Yeah Peter nodded, the only problem is that they spend every weekend fucking in my dorm.’

Michelle laughed again, genuinely, and Peter decided that it was one of the most incredible sounds he had ever heard. It felt hard not to tell that somehow someway, she had opened some cosmic connection to his heart having an instantaneous effect on him. He wondered if this was what Shakespeare had imagined Romeo felt when he first meets Juliet.

‘I know the feeling.’ She says, bringing him out of his thoughts. ‘My roommate is actually an animal. It never ends. I don’t know how she keeps finding new people on campus to bang. Ugh I’ve decided I’m just gonna move into an apartment.’ MJ crosses her arms in front of her chest and leans casually against the wall.

‘That’s a good idea.’ Peter encouraged. Trying to act like her light wasn’t blinding him. ‘I don’t know why I haven’t thought of that.’

She smiled ‘well obviously I’m smarter than you, but if your in need of a roommate let me know.’ Again taking a swig of her drink. ‘I’m all out.’ She said. ‘What are you drinking Parker?’

‘Oh,’ he said glancing down at his cup. Trying not to appear to flustered. ‘Just beer I think.’

‘Yeah me too, I’m gonna go get another one.’ Picking up on her hint, Peter followed her outside and to the drinks table.

‘So what about you?’ He asked her. ‘Are you a freshman?’

She nodded as she ate a cracker.

‘What’s your major?’ He asked genuinely interested.

‘Journalism. You?’ She said as she crunched on carrot and dip.

‘Physics.’

‘Oooo Parker I was right you are a nerd.’ She said teasingly. Brushing her shoulder against his, Which was effecting him far more that it should be.

‘Yeah I guess.’ He says shrugging.

‘So what’s the plan? Are you gonna invent some shit? Go to space?’ She questioned.

Inwardly Peter considered that he already had invented ‘shit’ and been to space on several occasions, but neglected to mention it.

‘Something like that. What about you?’ Is all he says.

She went a long tangent about her goals as a writer, her ambition as a journalist, her political views. She had managed to insult Mr.Stark and had incorrect information on the snap, but still peter couldn’t help but readily digest every word she said with utter fascination.

‘How do you feel about Stark she asked? I mean as a physicist I’m sure you have a different perspective.’

Peter froze completely unsure of how to even begin to answer that question, what would he say. Well he is my mentor and sort of surrogate father? Albeit a emotionally removed and unavliable one.

‘Uhmmm well, to be honest, I don’t agree with everything he does but i know he has a brilliant mind and the best intentions.’

‘Do you think he still sells weapons under the table? My professor thinks so.’ She looks so passionate when she speaks, that he isn’t even offended by her question.

‘Well. Peter said carefully. ‘I really hope not.’

MJ rose her eyebrows over the rim of her cup and she took a sip. She swallowed and nodded. ‘ yeah I get that totally, we all want our heroes to be honest, but like really I feel like I’m most interested in the truth, even if it hurts. We deserve to know.’

‘Yeah’ Peter said, mostly agreeing with her, ‘But also I’m somewhat bias to the situation. Cause like, I’m kind of the heir to his company.’ He blurts out.

MJ’s eyes went wide and she coughed and spluttered everywhere. ‘What?’ She questioned. ‘Like, like as an like an heir to the British thrown but to Stark industries?’

‘Yeah well I kind of work for Stark and he was my mentor as a teenager, and then he kind of took me and my Aunt under his wing and, now I kind of ya know, help him develop tech and he sort of, asked me if he could leave me his company in the event of his death. So yeah I guess it’s kind of like inheriting the British thrown. But also nothing like it, I guess heir wasn’t the right word more like i’m responsible for managing his legacy?’

He truly doesn’t know why he is telling her this, she is clearly not a big fan of Mr. Stark, she is a journalism student and Tony’s will was supposed to just be between him, May and Pepper.

She just looks at him in shock. ‘Well that’s.... a lot.’ She says finally. ‘I’m sorry I, ugh didn’t know.’

‘It’s ok. Not everyone sees eye to eye with him. I get that. And also, no one really knows. I mean it’s no secret that I work on tech development, but, the rest is kind of private.’

‘So why are you telling me?’ She asked looking genuinely confused.

‘I don’t know really. I suppose a journalist is the worst person to tell. I guess they’re is something about you makes it easy for me to tell you.’

‘What can I say.’ She shrugs. ‘It’s my charm.’ Her teasing somewhat lightening the mood, making Peter laugh.

‘But just so you know Peter, your secrets safe with me.’ She offered him a small smile and looked deeply honest in her eyes.

‘How the hell did you end up as Starks protégée in the first place?’

And he finds himself telling her everything (aside from Spider-Man and anything overtly fantastical)

He tells her about his parents and Ben and May.

‘Wow.’ Was all MJ said. Reaching for his hand and holding it in support, searing his skin in the process. ‘If it makes you feel any better, my dad is in jail and my Mom is dead. But like he didn’t kill her!’ She adds quickly, ‘he’s in jail for an unrelated reason.’

‘Oh, wow MJ I’m sorry.’ Peter says as emphatically as he can manage.

‘Yeah you aren’t the only one with a sob story hey Parker! And look you became a future billionaire out of it.’ He can tell she is joking when she speaks. He somehow knows that she understands that the money doesn’t mean anything to him, that she knows he has been hurt.

He laughs warmly, his chest swelling with some foreign feeling, overwhelmed by her so quickly after meeting her. ‘If you don’t mind me asking, what happened? To your mom I mean?’

She took a deep breath ‘she was in an accident.’ That was all she said, it was clear she didn’t want to elaborate, so he didn’t push it, changing the subject.

‘Wanna go lay on the grass?’ He questioned gesturing to the small grass area in the back yard by the pool.

She shrugged. ‘Sure’

They lay on the grass and look up at the Stars in silence. Peter couldn’t help the bad memories that flood his mind as he thinks of his time amongst gods, stars and wizards. He thinks of when faded away to dust on titan, when they lost Cap, when he thought he had lost Tony.

Suddenly he felt cold fingers touch his temple, he looked to his left to find Michelle leaning on her hand, propped up on her elbow, she seemed to be using her other hand to smooth his face.

‘What’s the worry Parker?’ She asked as she brushed her thumb softly between his brows, preventing them from remaining furrowed.

‘That feels unbelievably nice.’ He said as she pressed her thumb and massaged his forehead.

‘There is something strange about you Parker.’ She said ominously, causing his heart beat to rapidly flutter.

He smiled at her, in the moonlight she looked even more beautiful then when he had first seen her. Her face seemed closer than before, and he wondered if she would want him to kiss her. But before he can consider for much longer, she is leaning in to his space, and he finds himself leaning forward.

When their lips meet, its like a supernova. Everything exploding in a glorious succession from his mouth all the way to his toes. He reaches his hand up to her face and winds his fingers in the hair that meets the back of her neck. She leans closer, parting her lips as his tongue grazes hers.

She makes a small whimpering sound that ignites his masculine ego, pulling her closer to him, desperate for more of her. She pulls away suddenly and the lack of her touch is like a cold chill taking over his body.

He searches her eyes, silently questioning if he has done something wrong. ‘Do you want to get out of here?’ She asks. Completely shocked, Peter doesn’t know what to say. He just opens and closes his mouth.

‘You don’t have to say yes, I’m sorry if I...’

But he cuts her off my by kissing her again, pulling her on top of him on the grass. She straddles his waist, and leans down so that their chest to chest, he kisses her hard, and finds himself running his hands hungrily up the sides of her torso. Her skin is hot, burning him in the most satisfying way.

‘Parker.’ She said against his mouth. ‘I’m not going to fuck you on the lawn.’ He immediately pulls away. ‘Oh yeah! I know I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make you think that. I don’t expect anything.’

‘I know you dweeb. I’m just teasing you.’ She says. Swinging her leg off him and standing. She reaches her hand out to pull him up beside her.

They wander and chat and laugh back to campus, he follows her lead and finds himself at her door to her dorm. ‘My roommate is away so. You can come in.’ she says as she unlocks the door. Her dorm is interesting to say the least. One side, he assumes is her dorm mates. It’s pink and girly with makeup scattered on the bed. Michelle’s side has a book case, a Bernie Sanders poster and dark bed sheets with a floral pattern.

Mi Casa su Casa. She says, falling on the bed. Suddenly he is nervous, he hasn’t done this, in a long time, he isn’t super experienced. Maybe she is, maybe he will disappoint her.

‘I can hear your thoughts from here’ she says suddenly. ‘Relax Peter.’

MJ pulls him on top of her, and kisses his brow in an oddly intimate way. He captures her lips in his, and commits to the moment. She moans and keens and whimpers as he kisses down her neck, biting and sucking.

She reaches for the hem of his shirt and moves to pull it off. ‘Is this ok?’ She asks. He just nods stupidly and she tears off his shirt. She looks a little taken aback and as he leans back down to kiss her she halts him placing her palm flat on his chest.

‘What the hell parker?’ She asks abruptly.

‘What?’ He questions. Confused and concerned.

‘Do you like, live at the gym?’ She asks.

‘Oh. Ugh I try and stay fit.’ Peter bashfully admits attempting not to blush.

‘No shit.’ She says as she runs her hand slowly down his chest to his stomach and abs, stopping just at the waist band of his pants.

He shivers and MJ grins. Pulling her own shirt over her head. She is sans bra, which, is a nice surprise. And her breasts, like the rest of her, are perfect. He is drawn to them, kissing them carefully, pulling her nipple on his mouth, feeling it harden and pebble. Her moans might as well be angles singing in his ears.

Her back slightly arching off the bed. She pants in his ear. ‘Peter take my pants off.’ Its almost a demand. Desperate and fuelled with hormones.

And in that moment Peter has the feeling that if she were to let him, he would never deny her anything she could even want, so he does as she says. Undoing her belt lovingly. She grows frustrated ripping her jeans and underwear off, suddenly naked before him. Peter vaguely considers in the back of his mind that he is perhaps harder then he has ever been in his entire life. So ridiculously turned on by the woman he had only known a few hours.

‘Peter!’ She exclaims stop staring at me and do something! Please.’ She begs, which only serves to make Peter even more horny.

He runs his hand down her torso, before reaching her centre. He gently brushes her clit with his fingers. Causing her to shiver and bite her lip in the most glorious way. He moves his finger down and carefully slips it inside her warmth. He can hear her wetness already gathered there as he slowly pumps in and out, driving him completely insane. ‘Peter. I need more.’ She begs. He puts a second finger inside and kneels in front of her.

He pumps in and out as he softly kisses her sweet spot. Licking exactly the way that makes her scream unholy things. He hasn’t eaten anyone out in a long time, but he supposed it’s like riding a bike, it’s not something he can unlearn. She falls hard and breathy moaning his name over and over. Her chest rising and falling in frantic erotic breaths.

When she looks at him afterwards, he is grinning like an idiot. ‘Shut up!’ She says. ‘I didn’t say anything!’ He defends.

She pulls him back down on top of her and moans against his mouth when she taste herself on his lips. ‘We don’t have to do anything else if you don’t want too.’ He offers.

Michelle raises an eyebrow. ‘I want too. Definitely.’

Peter shivers at her certainty, a beautiful woman wants him and he isn’t going to argue again. He takes the rest of his clothes off whilst MJ overtly admires him for a moment, making him blush profusely but she quickly wraps her hand around his shaft so he doesn’t have lot of time to be embarrassed, ‘so hard for me.’ She mumbles into his mouth. ‘You have no idea.’ He feels himself saying before he can stop it.

‘Condoms?’ He asks. ‘Oh yeah! In the draw.’ she reaches over and finds the box, in the bedside table. And for a split second he can’t help but think about the amount of condoms she had in her draw, he suddenly hates the hands of anyone who has touched her before he could, but he shakes the thought off, disgusted in his possessiveness. He opens a Condom from a green packet and discards the wrapping, but feels anxious and exposed again. hovering over her in anticipation and fear. ‘ you ok?’ She asks.

‘Yeah.’ He replies anxiously his voice a little cracked. ‘It’s just been a while.’ He feels himself shaking with anticipation and anxiety, but she seems to know what he needs, slowly and firmly rubbing his length until he can’t take it anymore. She pulls him down to her chest and runs her fingers gently down his back, like the ghost of a touch. ‘It’s ok Peter. You will be fine.’

‘I don’t know if I will...last.’ He admits, deeply embarrassed.

‘It’s ok I promise.’ She says Her eyes warm and genuine. ‘No pressure, you made me cum already remember?’ He nods and smirks and she shoves him gently on the shoulder, ‘Don’t get too cocky Parker it was one orgasm not twenty.’

So without anymore hesitation Peter is slowly pushing into her perfect tight heat and it’s glorious. He is in literal heaven. It’s how Hades must have felt when he coupled with Persephone, but without any of the kidnapping or dubious consent. Peter pushes the poor comparison aside to focus on what he’s doing. He looks down to read her expression. ‘I’m ok.’ MJ says seemingly reading his mind. ‘You can move.’ She tells him.

And he does. He tries to ease into it, but his body is desperate to go. He has to remind himself to contain his super human strength but all his body wants is too move harder and faster. Luckily, she seems to not mind. Encouraging him. ‘Yes. Peter more. Harder.’ She moans.

He thrusts hard and is almost undone by the sound of her cries. Her head thrown back in ecstasy. ‘Mmm yes, MJ.’ He mumbles roughly. ‘You’re so tight, you feel so good.’ He says into her sweet smelling hair. He feels her walls start to tighten and spasm after a while spent in pure pleasure and it takes everything in him not to cum. ‘Peter!’ She cries out at her release.

He can’t help it, the sound of her, the feel of her, the way she looked panting and sweaty, her nipples flushed and pert. Properly fucked, he thinks, inflating his own ego. He moves faster and harder, his hips bucking almost against his will.

‘Yes! She moans in his ear. ‘Your dick is so good.’ She cries.

And in the end, rather embarrassingly it’s her words that push him over the edge. He is jerking, rutting hips in his finish, any semblance of rhythm lost in the whitewash of his peak. Yet she also seems to be desperately enjoying it, clawing his back and moaning in his ear until he collapses on top of her. Utterly bewildered. They both gasp for air for a while, before he rolls off of her staring at the ceiling in total shock and awe.

‘Night Nerd.’ She mumbles.

They quickly fall asleep huddled together on her single bed mattress. The last thing he remembers is the sound of her gentle breath as sleep overwhelms him.

When Peter wakes in the morning, he feels so much contentment, more then he had felt in years. Michelle’s hair is wild next to him. Sprawled across his chest.  He can’t help but notice how she looks different in the light of the morning, younger somehow, more at peace.

Suddenly his phone starts ringing. Jolting them both. She shoots upright, feeling around for her phone. ‘MJ.’ He says. ‘It’s my phone. Go back to sleep.’

To his surprise, she immediately does, rolling over and softly snoring. He quickly admires the fact that her bed sheet is gathered at her waist, allowing him to scan the soft expanse of the smooth skin on her back. Peter checks his phone and sees 7 missed calls from Ned. Quickly he dresses and steps outside her dorm and into the empty corridor.

He calls Ned, who answers almost immediately. ‘Peter where the hell did you go last night, I thought something might have happened.... you know to Spider-Man!’ He scolded.

‘Shit Ned I’m sorry. Nothing happened with Spider-Man. I ugh. I went home with MJ last night...’

It took 3 full seconds before Ned says anything. ‘You what!??? You have to tell me everything, are you a college slut now? I never imagined you would be. Is this your first one night stand? Not that I have had any...’

‘Ned, Ned stop, I’m still here with her. I’m in her dorm room hallway.’

‘Oh.’ Ned says

‘But umm. I think I there’s a problem.’ Peter adds.

‘What is it? You ok? Did you have performance anxiety? Did the condom break? Did...’ Ned asks hurriedly over phone.

Ignoring his friends questions Peter just says ‘I think... well I think I’m in love with her.’

‘Oh. Oh no.’ Is all Ned says in reply.

[an-abundance-of-castiels]

Best Left Forgotten

Part 6: Deal

Series Summary: You wake up in the bunker with a serious head injury and no memory of the last year or the Winchesters and find that Dean is avoiding you. You are determined to find out the truth about what happened but maybe the truth is best left forgotten.

Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam

Warnings: language, Season 10 Spoilers

Word Count: 1072

General Disclaimer: I do not own the gif or any of the Supernatural properties or characters. This is a fan piece and is intended to be enjoyed only as such.

A/N: Thank you all so much for the positive feedback! I was worried that i would not be able to finish this story, but thanks to all of you, I am just as excited about writing now as I was 2 weeks ago! Thank you thank you thank you for reading and thank you SO MUCH for all the positivitiy and love!

This is my first fic so any and all feedback is appreciated! A HUGE thanks to @weirdochick56 for rough beta-ing and encouraging me to pick this up again and give it another try in the first place!

Best Left Forgotten Masterlist

Missed Part 5?

**********

Knock Knock

“Come in,” Dean said gruffly.

As you walk in, you watch him quickly put the photos in the top drawer next to his bed. You sit down on the end of the bed, facing away from him.

“I remember Dean.”

You feel Dean stiffen. You wait for him to speak and when he doesn’t, you turn to look at him. He looks terrified, like he might run away at any moment.

Seeing that he isn’t going to respond, you continue, looking down and wringing your hands. “I remember watching… You… You died in my arms. I didn’t leave Dean. You did. And now I want you to tell me how you came back. Did I sell my soul? I could see myself doing that. Did I trade my memory for you somehow? Why are you pushing me away? Why are you punishing me for something I can’t even remember doing?” You start to cry. “I just need answers. I can’t take this anymore.”

Dean watches you with pain in his eyes. You can’t tell if it’s his pain or your pain or some of both, but his silence is enough. You stand and prepare to walk out. If you can’t get answers here, you think you are going to leave and find them somewhere else. You don’t know where you’ll go, but you can’t stay here. You survived losing him once before, you just have to be strong enough to make it out the door. Just as you’re trying to steel yourself to turn the knob, Dean speaks up, “Don’t go.” He sounds broken.

You close your eyes and shake your head to the door, tears still running down your face. What could have done this to him? “What reason do I have to stay, Dean?”

“I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know just please don’t go. You’re the only thing that makes me feel… human anymore.” His voice cracks.

You turn around and walk back to the bed. You sit across from him and wait, expectantly.

“Just promise me… Please promise you won’t leave, y/n.”

“As long as you promise to be honest with me, you have my word Dean,” you say looking him in the eye. “What happened after Sam and I put you on your bed?”

“When Crowley brought me the First Blade, it brought me back… but I was… different. I left a note for you and Sam..”

You grab your head in pain, wincing and closing your eyes.

“Y/N are yo-”

 Don’t look for me.

That’s all he left you.

That’s all he left BOTH of you.

Four words.

 Sam is convinced that it isn’t Dean. You know better. You can feel it, you told him. Dean is alive. Somehow, someway, Dean is back.

Your phone starts ringing and Sam tells you to check the security cam footage he sent you. You watch dean look into the corner store security camera and then you see them. Those black eyes.

Your stomach lurches. You put the phone back up to your head. “I saw them Sam.”

“I told you! I told you Crowley took his body!”

“No Sam. I think that IS Dean.”

“What? How could you even know that? How could that even happen?”

You swallow hard. “Call it a gut feeling. Sam. Do you have any leads on Crowley? The last demon I caught had no information. If we catch Crowley, we catch Dean.”

“And what if it’s not Dean?”

“I have to believe that it is, Sam. Because if it is, we can save him. And I don’t think any other scenario ends with me surviving past next week.” Silent tears begin to fall.

“Y/N, you can’t talk like that. What would Dean say?” Sam is silent for a minute. “Do I need to come home? Just for a few days? If I get Dean back and lose you in the process, I don’t think I’d be able to stand myself. Let alone Dean ever looking me in the eye again.”

You dry your tears. “I’ll be fine. Better if you find him.” You start to tease him, trying to lighten the mood, “Besides, I’m a tough cookie and I don’t put up with bullshit. Especially Winchester bullshit! So get to work Sam!”

Sam chuckles lightly. “Okay y/n. One way or another, I’m gonna bring him home, okay?”

“Alright Winchester. I’m gonna hold you to it.”

 You open your eyes and see that you are covered up in Dean’s bed. Dean is laying next to you, on top of the covers, snoring. He looks so peaceful. You don’t want to wake him. You turn onto your side to watch him sleep, but your motion wakes him.

His eyes pop open. “Y/N! Thank god!”

“How long was I out?”

He looks at his alarm clock. “Well over an hour. I asked Sam what to do, but he thought that you would wake up soon, so I just covered you up and waited. What happened? What did you remember?” He looks afraid.

“I remember that when you came back… you were a demon. I can see that I was right though. Sam didn’t believe me. He thought another demon was possessing you, but I told him… ‘that’s Dean’ the minute I saw the security cam footage.” You pause for a minute, thinking. “Is that what happened? Did I get hurt while we were trying to get you back? That’s really not your fault Dean. I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m kind of a clutz.” You smile and he does not return your smile.

“No y/n. That’s not what happened.”

“Well are you going to tell me?” You ask expectantly.

“I think you have stressed your brain enough for today.”

“What?” You are angry again, the promise of information ripped from your grasp.

“I think that you need to take it easy. Please.” Dean looks you in the eye, fear and concern in his face. “Let me take care of you?”

You think for a minute. You are desperate to know how you got Dean back. But you have him here in front of you now. And you are not about to give up a chance to spend the afternoon with him, even if it’s only for bribery.

“Three conditions. Soup. Cuddles. Pulp Fiction.”

Dean smiles his crooked smile for the first time since you woke up last week. “Deal.”

Part 7

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[p-r]

our devices overthrown?

Required Listening: Hope for Something - Alternate by Panama So I think that the most frustrating thing about writing these posts is the ever-present thought that they must, somehow, someway, come full circle. Whether it has been apparent to you or not, I have tried to make each of these have a central theme, albeit a loose one. Every post has generally been a reflection on how I am doing, some epiphany I had, and then me trying to make a mic-dropping final line. This surprisingly takes a lot of work. Typing these isn’t hard, don’t get me wrong, but the desire to maintain authenticity is. It is hard to always think of a way to tell a “story” via the what I thought, the turning point, and then the epiphany format. Sure, it is not a work of fiction, it all actually happened, but I find myself often trying to make that format work in my head before I sit down to write. I want to make sure it sounds clear that I thought something, some event changed my mind, and then give you some big revelation. But I realize that is kinda dumb. Yesterday after my second to last final I was sitting outside the room in which I took the exam, as my next exam just so happened to be in that room. I was feeling all of the nostalgia of things drawing to a close and none of the excitement that comes with being finished with finals at a place as tough academically as Berkeley. Lately my friends and I have been discussing determinism versus free will. If you’re not familiar, determinism is the idea that you are “fated” to do and be certain things, free will is the converse. I had always assumed myself to be a major believer in determinism. Growing up in a devoutly Christian household, you learn to accept the world around you as one that is entirely controlled by someone other than you. If something is good, God gave it. If something is bad, God is teaching us a lesson. I never realized how deeply internalized my notions of determinism were until I started talking to people who deeply rejected it. They argue that determinism is clausterphobic in a sense. The idea that you are stuck in one sort of track with no way out, an idea I formerly found comfort in, seemed stifiling. Even more so, it seemed to undercut everything about myself of which I am proud. My life hasn’t been particularly hard. I also would not call it particularly easy. If you know me, you know that this weird crazy seems to follow my life. If you don’t, picture me kind of like this: standing in a swarm of harmless honeybees, with one hornet flying around me, I can never tell which is which so I am constantly flopping my hands in the air in a desperate and futile attempt to prevent the hornet from stinging me. And you might be thinking that I do something to attract this crazy...and well maybe I do. I know some of it I seek out and I know some of it I try to actively avoid. Regardless, it seems to find me. The pervasive nature of my ails often makes me think that truly I am without device to fight fate. I can be really defeatest and it stinks. Sitting outside of room 202 waiting on my last final, I looked up and down the silent, empty hall and contemplated the question that I have felt most nagging in my life recently. Do I or don’t I have control. To be honest, I think both ideas are terrifying. However, I don’t think that we can truly reject determinism, but I think that we should quantify it. My grades, my ability to not give up when swarmed, my activism, these are all my choices. No God or higher power has forced me like a Raggedy Ann Doll to work as hard as I have. As a child, I always wanted to attend a top university. Looking up and down the hallway I realized that I had made it. I realized that my choice of hardwork led me to the top. I also realized my hard work did not specifically lead me to Berkeley. That, however, was fate. I was going to graduate a year early, so I would be done at the end of my Junior year. I was invited to a Coast to Coast college program in late October where they would have officers from each college speak about applying to their institution. There were various colleges speaking, such as Princeton and Dartmouth, the two I went to see. Berkeley happened to have a presenter there and I remember seeing a slide of Doe Library and thinking that the college was beautiful. I told my mom on the car ride home that I really liked Berkeley, but I knew I would never get in. A few weeks later I had applied early decision at Washington University in Saint Louis as it was close to my hometown. But, I was sitting, bored, in AP US History November 30th. It was near 4pm, as that was the last few minutes of my school day Junior year. I started thinking about applying to Berkeley, on a whim. I looked up the application. Found that the application for the UC system is due November 30th 11:59 PST. I realized that I was too late. So I gave up on applying to Berkeley. I was sitting in a debate round, after being admited to WashU thinking that I had made a grave mistake. But, I had applied early decision, which is binding. I signed a contract that said, essentially, that if I was admitted I would attend after my high school graduation. I started to panic. I did not want to be so close to home. Something felt wrong. I wanted to puke. Every fiber of my being was screaming at me to run. And then it dawned on me. The contract said after my graduation. I was admitted for Fall 2017. If I did not graduate in May of 2017, my admission was non binding. So I decided to withdraw from early graduation. I wrote all the appropriate officers. People were mad, confused, and sad. I hated dissapointing people. I generally think that I am a people pleaser due to my immense social anxiety, but in this instance my resolve had never been greater. I stared down every opposition. Every question if I was sure. Like sure sure. I was, in fact, sure sure. Senior year was my personal hell. I kept wishing that I had graduated early. I felt defeated. I thought that I had lost out on a great college and I would have avoided all the pain I was feeling. Most days I didn’t want to get out of bed. Called in sick a lot. Skipped some even. I had never skipped before. I was down and bleeding from the mouth. Defeat, death, and depression sum up the year nicely. As previous posts detail, coming to Berkeley was not easy. Berkeley started out as a continuation of the hell I was in. And then it started to change for me. It started to become happy. It started to restore in me what my high school peers and high school adminstrators had tried to steal from me. I found friends. I found strength again. Do I still hurt sometimes? Of course. If I didn’t hurt I would detail everything that happened, but I don’t feel like crying in the middle of SFO right now. Do I hope that my existence spites them? I don’t have to hope. They’re stuck in a crummy town with crummy lives and I am happy. I won. I escaped. I know I spite them. And you might be asking, couldn’t I have felt just as happy at WashU or some other university? Sure, I’ll conceed maybe I could have. All I know is that I look around at the people in my life now and I feel nothing but the universe’s perfect allignment. I know that no other college campus I have visited or debated on has felt like this. I feel Berkeley in my bones. I feel like I have known these people all my life and I cannot picture a tomorrow without them. I don’t love Berkeley all the time. I am not naive enough to ignore its problems. Its toll on students. I don’t think its the institution that I was fated to. I think that it is the chance that I, along with those around me, unbeknownst to one another all opened the same decision letter. Sent the deposit. Ended up in the same dorm and same fall program. I think its the idea that a few short months ago if I passed these people on the street they would have meant nothing to me. Another stranger. So back to the question: free will or fate? Answer: Wrong question. Its not either or. Its to what degree. I did the work, but somehow the way things unfolded led me here. It was not exactly what I planned, but it required my choice to work hard. To keep going. Free will in totality cannot exist. Infinity, as a concept, is so mind boggling that it doesn’t make clear numerical sense. Infinite possibilities is what free will entertains. Infinity minus one? Still infinity. Infinity plus infinity? Still infinity. You get the idea. Infinite things are w e i r d. They don’t occur in the nature that we percieve. And sure, properties are not the same as perceptions. But it makes most sense to assume that most things that we encounter are finite. Hence it is most reasonable to believe in some sense of determinism. I think of fate and free will like this. Every major decision we make has a set of doors. There are a lot of them, but the amount is still finite. We can choose which door, but the doors were predecided in a sense, but the next door is dependent on the previous choice. Life is a mixture of free will and fate. I might have been fated to be academically hard working, but I could have ignorned that fated drive, but I chose not to. I had the grades to apply to top colleges due to the one, fated drive and two, the choice to act on such drive. I was fated to apply, I acted on that drive, I was presented with doors and I chose Berkeley. Fate and free will are not mutually exclusive. Its a misconception that they do not work in tandem. One drives the other, each fate presenting us with choices and each choice setting up a new fate for us and so on. Its a push and pull between the two, but neither can ever distinctly gain dominance. The waves are neither classified as coming nor going, for as fast as they go they will return just as fast. It’s a balance. Our wills and fates do so contrary run That our devices still are overthrown; Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own. (Hamlet, 3.2.208), Player King It appears to me that even though Billy Shakes was a cool dude, he knew little of his own potential. But hey, what do I know.

[jhope-seok]

chiaroscuro | Part 1

chi·a·ro·scu·ro (n.) /kyärəˈsk(y)o͝orō/: an effect of contrasted light and shadow (used in art); Italian, from chiaro light + oscuro dark

Disclaimer: All of the things mentioned in this story are all works of fiction and have been made up by me, the author.  I did not intend to make anything based on real life, and any coincidences to real life are purely coincidences.

AU/Genre: Mafia x Cop AU // Fluff, possible smut in future chapters 

Warnings: mentions of weapons and drugs

Members: Jungkook x Reader

Length: 1,948 words

Masterlist | <previous : next>

The smell of your favorite coffee house always wakes you up in the morning. The scent of coffee grounds emanates throughout the small shop, filling your nose, your throat, your lungs. The aromas occupy your mind until there is nothing left but coffee and it’s enticing grip on your brain. It is a much needed break on your sense of smell after the car ride into the city with your two large bodyguards.

You have told them time and time again how awful their cologne smells, and that if their aim is to protect you and be around you at all times, they really need to throw that disgusting crap away. Yet time and time again, you’re greeted with the overbearing scent of man musk whenever they’re around. You wonder to yourself if they do it on purpose just to bother you, knowing that they have to be with you and near you at all times--as ordered by your father--so, you conclude, they must have some sort of long, drawn out bet to see how long you can take it before you personally hose them down. Which, if this is true, it doesn’t surprise you.

You know the two men are not very fond of their job of watching over your every movement. You know that they see it as a demotion, but your father had been very insistent on it, claiming that it was their duty to watch over the head of the business, and since you had recently come into such job, they were to guard you and be with you during every waking moment of your day. You had managed to get it so that when you were at home, you could at least have some privacy, having them stand outside the door to your apartment instead of hovering over you as you tried to eat every meal.

You are very well aware of the fact that you could have ordered one of the maids that works on your floor of the apartment building to make you your desired beverage. But, when you awoke this morning to the realization that you had just become the head of one of the largest cocaine trafficking rings in the nation, the air in your overly large apartment became all too stale for your liking. Yet, now you’re wishing you had instead made your bodyguards go and retrieve your coffee for you, because the stench that surrounds them like a green cloud of smoke suffocates you during a drive you never remembered being as long as it is. Plus, it gives you a reason to insist you go into the shop alone.

They kept trying to warn you of the dangers of going into public spaces by yourself, claiming that you can never be too sure of when someone might try to attempt to kill you, or worse, kidnap you. “Now that you’re the head honcho--” one of them had began to lecture you, but you already had one foot already out the door.

You threw them your meanest look, and with ice in your throat your tongue lashed out, “If someone dares to kidnap me in Starbucks, of all fucking places, I swear to god I will personally give you a million dollars, each, for predicting it. Plus, I think I can fucking handle getting myself a cup of coffee for five minutes without you two idiots scaring the employees.” And with that, you stormed out of the car.

Now, as you wait by the counter to receive your coffee, you take several deep breaths of fresh air that hasn’t been polluted by your bodyguards. Your mood lightens with every lung-full of air, the warmth of the coffee shop lifting your spirits as the time approaches when your favorite beverage will be in your hand again.

Although, a dark cloud finds its way over your head as you begin to regret coming in alone when you start to feel like you’re being watched. You come to realize just how many other people are inside of the small coffee shop, although most of them seem to be occupied with their phones. You can feel your blood begin to race as your eyes scan the bodies around you, searching for something to explain the chills that are running down your spine. You know there’s no way that word could have already spread to the other gangs around the city that you took over the family business, but you’re starting to wish you had taken at least one of the stupid buffoons inside with you in case somehow someway someone had gotten wind of the situation.

You’re trying to keep a low profile, not wanting to let the person watching you know just how panicked you are becoming inside, when your eyes land on possibly the most handsome man you have ever seen standing a few feet away. His dark eyes burn holes into yours, and your heart races. You’re not sure if it’s the way that his hair is perfectly framing his forehead, or if it’s the way his adam’s apple moves as he licks his lips, but something about him is making your blood rush from your head, less from panic and more from arousal. You know it’s way too early for you to be feeling this turned on by the sheer sight of a man, especially in a crowded coffee shop, but you think to yourself that anything can happen. Except, when the glint off of his police badge catches your eye, your heart leaps into your throat.

You’re quick to avert your eyes, knowing that it’s never a good idea to speak to or interact with officers in any part of your city. You know that your father has done his part to pay off most cops, but this man looks young, almost your age, and you don’t know if he’s been bought off yet or not. And if he hasn’t, it is best not to engage him.

Although, he doesn’t seem to have any idea of who you are, as his eyes do not seem accusatory. His gaze on your cheeks feels almost, inquisitive. You’re trying to reassure yourself that you are certain you do not know this man, and that there’s no way this man knows you, or knows of the crimes your family commits. Or at least, that’s what you think, until he closes in and softly asks, “Y/N?”

You gulp down the fear that has lodged itself in your throat, making it hard to breath, and remind yourself that you’re a powerful woman, head of one of the largest drug mafias in the state, and at only twenty-six you can take on a young police officer. You flash him your best smile, and greet him. “Hi, I’m sorry. Do I know you?”

“Oh! I’m--” he’s caught off guard by the beauty in your smile. He can’t seem to believe he’s being graced by your presence, which makes your back a little straighter as your confidence grows. He clears his throat and stands up taller to match your actions. “I’m Jungkook. Jeon...Jungkook. We went to school together.”

Jungkook is amazed by the way you’ve aged. You look practically the same to him, but different in so many ways. He remembers a small girl, who seemed so timid and breakable, afraid of everything. He remembers the way you used to keep your head down through the halls, avoiding the eyes of all of your classmates. Although, he does recall many times when the other boys would try to tease you and all you had to do to make them stop was shoot them a death glare. Apparently, that hasn’t changed.

You narrow your eyes at him. “School? I don’t remember a Jeon...Jungkook.”

Jungkook blushes and casts his head down, rubbing the back of his neck. You make a mental note that this makes him looks extremely cute, like a small boy in front of his crush. It makes your heart flutter before you can catch yourself.

“Ah…,” he starts, unable to find the words to make this less awkward. He adjusts his holster as he searches. Which only draws your attention down to his belt and the gun, taser, and pepper spray so neatly wrapped around his waist, in pockets so perfectly designed for them, as if the three combined wouldn’t have the power to render you completely helpless. “We sat next to each other in middle school? We didn’t really talk much,” his words are starting to bring back memories in your mind of the weird, overly studious boy who used to sit next to you in all your classes. “But you were always this mysterious girl who I could never approach. Or rather, couldn’t imagine approaching.”

You stop him mid thought before he can ramble on any longer. “So why approach me now?” You cock your eyebrow at him, a smile playing on your lips. Because, if you’re being honest with yourself, now that he mentions it you do vaguely remember a Jeon Jungkook, but you don’t remember him being this...handsome. You remember a boy who always had his head down in his books, and when he wasn’t in his books his hand was always raised, the answer to every question on the tip of his tongue. You can recall sneaking glances at his tests every so often.

He flashes you a smile that almost instantaneously has you weak in the knees. “I don’t really know. Kind of knee-jerk reaction seeing someone from my past I guess.”

“Venti, cold brew with soy milk for Y/N,” the barista’s voice interrupts all thoughts in your mind, as you whip your head to see her placing it on the counter next to you. You turn back to Jungkook and bite your lip.

“Well, that’s me. I’ve got important things to do, and I wouldn’t want to get in the way of,” you pause, pointing to the badge on his chest, “important police work.”

You move to grab your coffee off the counter, and as you pass by him again, catching a whiff of a cologne that doesn’t make you want to vomit, he turns to watch you walk out.

“Maybe I’ll see you around again sometime, Y/N.” His voice is soft, alluring, and you have to stop the urge to ogle him as you leave.

You pause at the door. “Maybe you will.” You smirk, and push through the front door, glancing back once to throw him a wink and, “Officer.” The bell is much too cheery for your liking ringing a goodbye as you step back into the real world, the gaze of your bodyguards in the car piercing through the tinted windows.

Jungkook watches as you open the door to a car that probably cost more than his salary. He admires the way the black pants you’re wearing perfectly shape your backside as you sink into the backseat, and as he you drive off he can see you faintly through the windows and he’s reminded of a scene similar to this one from his childhood.

He remembers the silly crush he used to have on you: the girl who was a mystery to him. He often day dreamed about what went on in your home life, what it would be like to be your friend and to know the things no one else knew about you. But he never got the chance to even properly introduce himself to you back in middle school. He thinks to himself that there’s much to you he never knew and that meeting you again like this, he is determined to find out.

feedback is always welcome! please feel free to leave some here!

[kdtheghostwriter]

SNK #107 Recap

Not a prediction. A spoiler.

I’m going to get the criticism portion of this post out of the way first. This is mostly gonna be writer’s mumbo-jumbo until we get to the cut, so if you want to know my thoughts on THAT panel, click the link now. Everyone else...shall we?

It’s easy to tell when and how much editors are involved in a certain update. Turns out, they like exposition even less than some of you all do. Makes sense; exposition is quite hard, but in so many ways I felt like this chapter was what 91 should have been.

It’s a reset. A needed one. I’m telling you now as a scribe myself - after running for our lives for a full volume, we need a moment to stop, save the game, check our inventory, etc. I’m glad Isayama at least gave us one more chapter before launching into the next (and likely final) story arc.

Reiner should have opened the chapter. I say that purely based on how these last few chapters have been structured. Every shot is framed like a movie still. The movie buff in me is incredibly pleased by this, but the movie reviewer in me isn’t far behind, either.

A big problem with Suicide Squad - besides, well, everything - is that there isn’t any natural flow. The editing is terrible. I won’t call 107 terrible in that regard, but it is very sloppy. Reiner should start this chapter, because if we’re only going to Marley long enough to see Reiner check the plumbing, we should get it out of the way, and then cut to the kids, because he asked for them.

-Reiner wakes up, Porco offers booze, Reiner asks for Gabi and Falco -Gabi murks the guard, escapes with Falco from prison -Cut to Big Boss Eren, who is also in prison

It’s just basic sequencing. I get that 106 ended with Eren, so you’d like to see 107 start with him, but cold opens are a thing, and they don’t take that long. I actually start most of my own stories this way.

Paradis Island has three options presented to them that give them the best chance of being not-dead. Given that one of those options includes the End of the World, I can’t say they chose the worst option necessarily but, damn did they come close. It’s a really bad idea.

I’ll stop here and keep all the serious talk under the cut. It gets personal and some of you might not agree with what’s said, but I feel I need to say it, so I’ll give you the option of stopping here. I like this chapter overall, even if I didn’t like everything that happened.

Stray Thoughts

-Eren is still totally not cool for going AWOL and killing everyone in Liberio but...just what did Paradis plan to do as Zeke’s term wound down? How were they going to get to him?

-Keep your eye on Gabi. She’s going to have a heap of development shortly and it will be very satisfying.

-Armin is sulking in a dungeon; Eren is fuming in a cell; Mikasa is crying on a grave.

-Kiyomi greeting Mikasa with comments on how “healthy” she looked gave me major Get Out vibes. I don’t think she’s evil, but I doubt she’s genuine.

-Sadly, not even Zeke and Levi’s hike into the Forest of Big Ass Trees was enough to distract me from how very screwed everything is; but, it was still very cute.

Part of what makes fiction difficult is the reaction. We project so many things onto whatever it is we’ve consumed; that’s what we’re supposed to do, after all. But the author is, usually, an autonomous human being that creates of their own volition which always leads to feelings of some sort. Hurt feelings, happy feelings, outraged feelings.

I say that to say this: it’s okay to stop.

I say this earnestly as a friend and with zero snark. The best you can hope for from this story now is a bittersweet ending. It will not be happy. Not in the classic storytelling sense. I don’t like seeing people in any fandom struggle through a piece of work that clearly makes them uncomfortable. I like, even less, people hate-read something or feel like, they’re near the end so they might as well. Not so!

Historia’s fate is very distressing. Her complacency with this awful idea just because the Survey Corps couldn’t be assed to come up with one goddamn plan is upsetting to put it lightly. No one is happy and the story presents it that way. Which is good because-

I think I should get this one off my chest. I feel like it’s warranted, as well, since SnK joins the X-Men as the other most famous racism allegory. The discourse I’ve seen floating in the tag, while not incorrect, is overlooking a key undertone in this series (which wouldn’t be a first for this site ayy).

In Ferguson, MO and Baltimore, MD: two young, unarmed African-Americans were betrayed by the people sworn to protect them. In one case, a man died in police custody after egregious abuse. In the other, a teenager was murdered by an officer in broad daylight. Both cities burned for days on end.

And then I see people talk about how we should change the way we dress and talk and how we should be civil and I laugh and laugh. Because literally the only thing we want to know is: How many more of our people have to DIE before we can be seen as human?

The answer in Real Life and Fake Life is: I DON’T KNOW.

Fuck.

Any followers of mine have no doubt seen my comparisons of this story to Metal Gear Solid. (I don’t just write about SnK, it’s just what everyone reads.) It feels weird because a) Hideo Kojima is a much better writer than Hajime Isayama and b) the stories themselves are very different. However...

How could I not?

You see, Jack was the world’s finest soldier, but his mentor defected to Russia and nearly plunged the world into nuclear war, leaving Jack as the only one who could stop her.

Only NOT. Joy was undercover and was compromised, but sacrificed herself and died in infamy to protect Uncle Sam from taking the heat for a horrific war crime (because our record is squeaky clean as we all know).

This breaks Jack and he spends the next four decades trying to fulfill The Boss’ Will, not realizing that his unending anger and unchecked PTSD has warped this ideal to suit his need for blood and violence.

Kojima-san has a relatively hopeful view of the human condition despite the suffering that occurs throughout his series. Metal Gear Solid ends with two lives converging on one another as they reach their apex. Jack finally gets revenge on his oldest enemy and dies alone on the grave of his mentor. His son, David, walks away from the battle and lives a quiet life with his otaku husband and their adopted daughter.

Kojima’s message is clear: you aren’t where you’re from. The theme comes up often. As Logan bleeds out in his daughter Laura’s arms, he tells her not to be the weapon they made her. Going by the recent updates, it seems that SnK is just a tad more cynical. And that’s fine.

I saw Ant-Man and the Wasp recently. Compared to the sheer density of Avengers 3, this was a light and airy jaunt. It had a happy ending. A very happy ending. And I did not like it. The movie was fine, but the resolution to the conflict (no spoilers) was so rushed and involved a deus ex moment that would make Steven Moffat blush. I don’t need a happy ending (I’ll still take one), I need a satisfying one. Now, what does that mean?

The best chance Shingeki no Kyojin has at a happy(ish) ending is for Reiner Braun (Solid Snake) to infiltrate Paradis (Outer Heaven), track down Eren Jaeger (Big Boss) and beat the shit out of him until he wakes from his living nightmare and says, “This is a terrible idea! Why didn’t anyone tell me?” wherein everyone responds, “We DID!!!”

I feel like only half of that is going to happen. Eren’s mind is fractured and the world continues with it’s awful machinations. And whenever I feel I should even half-heartedly dispute the idea that everyone sucks forever, I remember that the “Land of the Free” is currently holding toddlers in cages and...welp. I got nothing.

Then, I think about my younger siblings and my goddaughter and how I love them all so much - more than I love myself. I just want them to find a happy life somehow, someway in this crazy world and I know I can’t give up, because they’re watching.

That’s why I still write my stories the way I do. I may be emotionally busted, but I still believe in the message, and just need someone to take the baton. The message, in almost every story I write, is that you need your fucking friends, because finding another human being (or multiple!) that can stand your presence for more than thirty seconds at a time is a gift that must be treasured.

Chances are slim of this happening in the world of SnK, and that may not be the worst thing. A satisfying end for me is one that makes sense.The gymnastics required to get to an ending where one of the main characters doesn’t die a horrible, cursed death would be worse than the gymnastics that got us here to begin with. No two writers work the same.

The official mood for the latter part of this series is EMA facing the ocean in Ch 90. Eren asks if they’ll have to kill everyone on the other side of the water and his two mates each have an expression that says, “Shit, man, we thought maybe we’d build sand castles instead.”

[bitegore]

It's way too hot in your room, probably because it's August, but you're not one to judge. With an inexplicable groan, you open the window and lay on your side, listening to the sounds of whatever creature frequents your home. They're loud - these bugs - a raccoon scurrying through a pile of leaves - or another appropriate figure, obviously taunting you. You could be sleeping, but instead, you're here, 1:30 in the morning, hopelessly exhausted with no motivation to sleep. (1/2)

Hesitantly, you reach for whatever device is most convenient to you and log into your Tumblr account. Ah, the hellish website where you are free to discuss your outlandish interests to your hearts content. It’s as if David Karp is whispering in your ear, telling you that you’re home. For some reason you squint at the screen, feeling a certain disturbance. It isn’t hot at all. You’re actually fairly comfortable. If someone were writing about you, it’d be great for them to do some research. 

Nevermind the Swerve level fourth wall break. You’re going to sleep, if it kills you, and if your mutual knows anything about you, it will. You hit yourself in the face, realizing that Red, on caffeine, though necessary and unavoidable is a bad idea whenever you need sleep. Breathing in and out, you finally close your eyes. Any normal person dreams of so-called sugar plum fairies dancing. You think of alien robots, picking you up in their servos, and embracing you. That’s the dream. 

It’d be so nice if you could quench your thirst through means of something realistic, but Cybertron seems so far away. These characters, these figures, mean so much to you. Believe it or not you recognize more humanity in them than a lot of people in your life. That’s so pretentious but you honestly can’t shake the thought that all you want to do is frag someone 15 feet taller than you are, or cuddle, or just gaze longingly at and eventually get stepped on. You have no protective shell! 

You’re frustrated. Your meme-filled brain can’t take anymore. You’re going to pull an all nighter, per the usual. Instead of feeling lonely for a fictional planet, you’ll put those frustrations to good use – maybe draw or write something better than this bullshit meta bomb spiel. Somehow, someway, you quietly manage to make a cup of very strong black coffee. You return to your bedroom, and collapse, laying on your stomach and yelling into a pillow that clearly didn’t deserve this. 

Then it happens. You’re struck with the realization that if you were being written into a bullshit attempt at an x reader fanfiction, it would have to be re-written, after a proper question and answer session. Yeah, that’d be nice, and make more sense. Part of you wants to just sleep, so that this can end, and you can actually experience something that makes sense, but you feel footsteps, not normal, light ones, loud, booming footsteps. Could this be the moment things get interesting? 

You glance out your window to find a disgruntled, blue cassette player-like figure who shoots you a deadpan expression. You can’t tell exactly, because of a fiendishly 80s design and a face-plate. 

“Continue observation: human has been activated." 

You press your face against the window, blinking. If this is a hallucination, at least it’s a neat one. 

"I’m not a robot!” You shout, curiously rubbing your eyes. “I can’t be activated, or deactivated, though sometimes I wish I could be." 

"Are you functional?” He asks, a certain gentleness in his Welker-esque, Cylon-like, robotic voice. 

“That’s debatable,” you respond, rolling your eyes. “On one hand, I’m talking to a giant alien robot, who isn’t real. On the other, I feel like I’m in the midst of a bad fanfiction that was supposed to go one direction but has taken a turn for the worst, but isn’t that just life, Soundy?" 

The question is rhetorical, as your friend reaches out a hand. "For you,” he offers, his voice quiet.

“You’re a man of a few words. I like that about you." 

He gently lifts you up and places you on his shoulder. Then, morally ambiguous Soundwave begins to walk forward, either not caring, or disregarding the fact that alien robots are generally frowned upon. You feel a chill come over you, most likely because your room is always at the very comfortable temperature of 90 degrees under those blankets. 

"Listen, I like this as much as the next guy, but you think you can fit me in that little compartment of yours? The one with all of the mini cassettes?" 

"It is too crowded.” He responds simply. “Ravage does not like the company.”

 "Isn’t he -“ You shiver once more, wrapping your arms around you. "I-it’s cold up here. I keep my room - err - hab suite really warm and I don’t mean to be high maintenance, mister soundwave, sir, but it’s cold as balls." 

"Be patient, Red." 

"Holy shit, you know my name." 

"Of course I do." 

"Right, I forgot about the whole ‘telepathy’ thing." 

"It isn’t that simple. I will explain momentarily, but I need you to be patient." 

"I think I liked you better when you were all one liners or telling Optimus Prime that you were superior in Prime. That was cool." 

He lets out a sigh, and you take that as reason to be quiet. For some reason, you’re willing to trust the former outlier. He’s kind to you, and you know that there is a method to his so-called alien madness. He can tell. Soundwave eases up and continues. 

"Close your eyes." He requests. You aren’t about to disobey, or risk being stepped upon. With that, he continues. 

Finally, he stops. He holds you in front of him - AND OH GOD IS HE GOING TO KILL YOU, WHAT A WAY TO GO - and puts you in his lap. He shuffles and lays down. "Open." 

You do as he asks and are welcomed to a sea of stars. He still has a pair of arms wrapped around you, and you glance up, smiling. 

"I know I’m probably beating a dead Ravage by asking,” It doesn’t work, because he’s not a horse. “but why did you bring me here?" 

"To prove something to you,” he assures, ignoring the horrendous commentary about his weird robo-cat. 

“Listen, Soundwave, I’m totally for proving dumbasses like me wrong, but I’m missing the point here." You swear the windows error noise just played in your head. 

Your Cybertronian friend groans, and you let out a sigh, relaxing against his chest plate. 

"Fine, fine, I’ll be quiet." 

"Do you see those stars?” He asks. 

“Yeah, they’re a bunch'a neat lil explosions!" 

 "They have always served their purpose for your species. They have helped lead your ships’ captains in times of turmoil, and have created a permanent backdrop forcing you to think, to dream even." 

"I love stars as much as the next guy, but I’m not following, here, Soundy." 

"My point is, they have taught you that you are not alone." 

You pause and glance up at his face plate curiously, as he points to the sky. "If there were a Cybertron in your universe, that is where it would be.”

“So?” You dare ask. 

“Whenever you feel alone, remember that I am out there watching, that all of us are. I created a commune in hopes of creating a home for my fellow displaced Cybertronians, Decepticon, and Autobot. I taught Cosmos and so many others that they are not alone, and that’s what I aim to do for you." 

"You don’t have to worry about me.” You laugh, brushing it off. 

“You don’t know the impact you make on others, Red, how many lives you have changed." 

"With all due respect…I’m a senior in high school. I don’t need this kind of wisdom. I’m literally nothing." 

"And that’s where you’re wrong. My reasoning behind pointing out Cybertron and Sanctuary Station is we’re all -” He pauses, attempting to find the right word, “rooting for you. As long as we are real to you, we will never be far away. We’re here to help you recognize your own talents. You’re an artist. No matter what it is, it’s beautiful, and it blows us away. Your writing is well-spoken, intricate. Everything you do is beautiful, and reminds us, even us, of our own self worth, of our own importance. It’s time you start seeing all that we see in you." 

You swear you can hear his own spark pulsate or convulse, whatever the appropriate word is, and it’s as beautiful, as beautiful as his own words. You don’t know if you’re ready to believe him, but you swear he’s being honest. The former Decepticon is known for his loyalty and intellect, he isn’t deceitful like a certain seeker is made out to be. 

"Do you really mean that?” You ask hesitantly. “-that I’m important to even Cybertron?" 

"Of course I do. I don’t have to have telepathic abilities or be an Outlier to understand your importance. Keep focusing on your craft, and know, that someday soon, you will recognize these things in yourself and that you will be wonderful. Never forget who’s watching over you, and who’s rooting for you." 

You yawn and drift into sleep in the mech’s arms, your eyes closing to the feeling of his chestplate expanding and retracting. 

The next morning, you awake, knowing that someone who believes in you is looking out for you. You are wonderfully talented in every way shape and form. Never forget this as you finish your senior year of high school. You are going to change the world, I promise.

the only words i have are:holy shit i am literally crying

[doomonfilm]

Thoughts : The Watermelon Woman (1996)

The Watermelon Woman, a film written, directed and edited by Cheryl Dunye, is one of those films that often comes up in conversation or in think pieces on film, but somehow and someway, I never seem to find the time or opportunity to actually sit down and watch it.  Maybe it had something to do with my knowledge of Melvin Van Peebles’ Watermelon Man, and my mind’s weird way of connecting material in odd ways.  While it is easy to associate the two films by name, that is really and truly the only association to be made, and after viewing The Watermelon Woman, all I can do is kick myself for having not seen it sooner.

Amateur videographer and aspiring filmmaker Cheryl (Cheryl Dunye) knows that she wants to break into the film industry, and after a lengthy search for inspiration, she finds her film subject... a 1930’s Black actress credited as The Watermelon Woman (Lisa Marie Bronson).  Despite the lack of support from fellow videographer and video store coworker Tamara (Valarie Walker), Cheryl decides to push forward with her documentary in hopes of uncovering more information about the mysterious actress, and her journey crosses her paths with several interesting parties : Tamara’s mother June (Cheryl Clarke), a film historian named Brian Freeman (Lee Edwards), Camille Paglia (herself) and a former friend of The Watermelon Woman and June named Shirley Haminlton (Ira Jefferies), who informs Cheryl that The Watermelon Woman’s real name is Fae Richards.  Tamara is pushing to hook up Cheryl with her friend Yvette (Kathy Robinson), but Cheryl has no interest in a relationship, at least not until she crosses paths with an attractive video store customer named Diana (Guinevere Turner).  With Cheryl’s project already making her and Tamara’s friendship a rocky one, the emergence of Diana further causes a rift, which forces Cheryl to make some difficult choices about how to proceed with her project and her life.

Positioning the film as a mockumentary of sorts blurs the line between fiction and reality, which allows writer, director and editor Cheryl Dunye to interject actual history into her narrative.  Her documentarian efforts allow her to sit down with a number of different people that provide her a wide range of insight in regard to Black film history and the often stereotypical roles given to Black women.  Over the course of the film, we as viewers are presented with historical information about Black women in film, the history of Black culture in pre-World War II Philadelphia, and a bit of history about the lesbian experience in the past.  Despite much of the film being presented as a mockumentary, with all sides of production depicted, there is a strong enough presence of a romantic film that more traditional viewers can hang on to… in some ways, it feels like the main plot of investigating The Watermelon Woman and the B-plot of Cheryl and Diana’s romantic arc may have been a mix of two ideas in hopes of creating a singular strong idea.

Cheryl Dunye makes sure that her identity as a member of “the Family” is given just as much importance as her identity as a Black woman filmmaker, which gives her film characterization a parallel path of discovery and education as she finds herself involved in a romantic relationship with Diana.  Making this story a slightly altered echo of the Fae Richards and Martha Page relationship helps root the romantic and dramatic aspects of the film by providing the theatrical aspects that offset the historical ones and provide balance.  The romantic aspects of the film are also given the same level of detail and attention as the main plot, making the relationship between Cheryl and Diana, Tamara’s frustrations with women, and the revelation of the numerous gay and lesbian members of the film industry’s past all interesting in their own rights.  Dunye also manages to portray her mostly gay and lesbian characters as fully fleshed out people, and not the one note caricatures that they are often displayed as in less nuanced films.

In many ways, the presentation of The Watermelon Woman reminds me of Kevin Smith’s cult classic debut Clerks, particularly in the way that very genuine-seeming moments of life are captured with a fly on the wall approach, with the honest nature of the friendships and relationships, and even little touches such as the video store location.  While there are a number of great underground songs from the late 1990′s used in the soundtrack to the film, they are smartly used diegetically rather than a tool to amplify or add subtext to what is going on on-screen, and in turn, it makes the film feel much more vérité than fictionalized reality.  The rawness of South Philadelphia is captured in all of its glory, and as a fan of hip-hop culture, the insane amount of graffiti handstyles captured is like a little hidden golden time capsule of background textures.  Using a frame aspect ratio rather than attempting to force a widescreen aspect ratio not only gives the film the purposefully amateur feel and tone it seeks to set, but it also creates a proximity and intimacy among the characters due to real estate within the frame.

Cheryl Dunye, with all the production tasks already on her plate, still manages to give a performance that sells her inquisitive nature and reveals her vulnerable side, particularly with romantic matters.  Valarie Walker brings tons of attitude to the table to help give the indication of an antagonist in a film absent of one, which helps bring a bit of dramatic tension into the mix.  Guinevere Turner provides a spark in a film centered around serious matters, which helps bolster the romantic side of the film.  Cheryl Clark, Lee Edwards, Ira Jefferies and Camille Paglia (in an appearance that is a slight parody of herself) do a good job of acting out their informational-based sequences, with plenty of personality used to provide said information.  Supporting appearances by Shelly Olivier, Christopher Ridenhour, Kat Robertson, Jocelyn Taylor, Alexandra Juhasz, Lisa Marie Bronson, Patricia Ellis, Irene Dunye, Sarah Schulman and more stand out.

While I will definitely keep this film in the back pocket as a general recommendation, I will be especially mindful to bring it up to aspiring filmmakers hung up on presentation, as well as those who are looking to tell non-traditional stories and cannot find inspirational material.  Including Cheryl Dunye’s pivotal film in my exploration of Black filmmakers for Black History Month felt like a must, and experiencing the film validated those feelings.