#I’m not confused I just don’t feel like slapping a label on myself when I know it’s always gonna change

[2econd2ight2yd]

“oh you’re unlabeled and just like who you like? so you’re just pansexual” when did I fucking say I was pansexual

[the-navistar-carol]

here from zee's blog. don't worry about answering if its too personal, but how did you know you were ace? did the whole romance vs. sexual thing confuse you too? going through my own thing rn and idk how to articulate it but i feel like advice coming from a person that i know, in however limited of a scope, would help, as opposed to an informational post (they have been helpful too! its just not what im looking for rn).

Hey, anon! I have a funny story about how I realized I was ace, actually — and it’s funny because it’s completely ass backwards from anyone else. To TL;DR it, yes, romance vs sex confuses the shit out of me still. Like, how can someone look at someone else (even someone they don’t know) and be like “smash” ?????? How does it go further than aesthetic??? Than “oo pretty person! moving on” ?????

Content warning, I talk about boobs below the cut.

But the story of how I realized I was ace goes something like this.

I didn’t know that being LGBTQ+ was a thing until seventh grade. Like at all. Age twelve. Had never heard about people being gay. My parents are not homophobic, they are accepting of who I am, but for some reason -- LGBTQ+ things were never brought up in the house. But age twelve. That was the year I got a wider group of friends and also had wider internet access. What did I do with it, you may ask? Print memes off of Pinterest and carried them in a binder to show my friends. I am not joking.

But in this Pinterest rabbit hole, I discovered the glory of crossposted Tumblr textpost memes. Like old Tumblr memes. Having-the-old-format old. And alongside these memes like the dancing Spiderman and none pizza with left beef was some pretty profound shit. Like the ol’ “biggest gaudiest patronuses,” the “the day after i killed myself” poem, all that jazz. And in that category of profound was a bootlegged post about asexuality.

“Huh,” twelve-year-old me said, taking all of fifteen minutes to think about it. “That sounds pretty accurate!”

While I have not looked back since, it gets funnier every year that that is how I figured it out. Because for the first three years or so, I was carrying around the label with just the knowledge of what it was, not really thinking about it whatsoever despite it being as true as the color of the grass in California. (Brown.) It was only when I hit sophomore year or so that I actually began to realize hang on, I was actually on to something here and that there was actually — shocker — a lot more about me that fit with the ace label. I got bored when making out with an ex. I got BORED. MAKING OUT. That was the funniest one.

To TL;DR that — I never had the feeling of “oh no I’m broken, I don’t feel this emotion” because I slapped the label on myself and then discovered I actually fit into it after the fact. I’m probably not the best person to ask “hey how did you know you were ace” because I discovered more about being ace after already labeling myself as such. But I did write a research paper on asexuality, if someone ever wants to read that for some reason.

…..i did not answer your question.

About the romance versus sex thing: it absolutely still confuses me. Tinder is a huge confuser. Why. Why the hell. Hookups. Why. Why the hell. Is it not enough to listen to someone ramble about something they're passionate about? Love is stored in the infodumps.

My last ex was not ace, I have not dated someone ace because finding ace men is actually quite hard. But there was a point near the end of our relationship when he wanted to see my boobs (like with a bra on, not nude from the waist up). I got nothing out of it, but shrugged and went “sure” because,,,, ehh???? It’s just,,,,,, boobs? They sure as hell don’t make me horny, so I had no problem temporarily showing off things that didn’t affect me lmfao

People, to me, are like paintings and dogs. They’re like paintings in the sense that I can stop and admire someone, even for a while, but I’ll eventually walk away. They’re like dogs in the sense that I want to cuddle and hold hands and do soft things with them, but I wouldn’t fuck a dog, to put it crudely. Also, I get tired of hanging out with people after a while, but that’s also because I’m autistic and a whole other can of worms.

Hope this helped?

[werewolfdays]

Fluff #20 please

it's a good thing I label things in my docs cause I wouldn't have remembered which one this was (at least I hope this is the right one) 😬 Anyway SO sorry this took ages and ages to get to, but I'm happy that I'm easing back into writing again and I had fun with this one. Hope you enjoy!

20. Sender lifts receiver’s chin, invoking eye contact.

The annoying sound of my alarm pulled me out of a deep sleep. I grumbled and slapped at my phone on the nightstand until it shut up. Once an enticing silence filled the room, I rolled over and groggily reached out for her in the space next to me. Finding the bed empty was always a more effective means of forcing me into consciousness. A part of me will always be afraid of waking up without Jayde – of having to relive the grief that losing her put me through.

Luckily, when I shot bolt upright to search for her in a confused panic, I saw the note on her pillow. In my drowsy state, I snatched it, and fell back onto my side of the bed with a dramatic bounce. After rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I absentmindedly fumbled for my glasses on the nightstand.

Had more bad dreams and didn’t want to wake you. I’m going out to do night shift patrols. Might do morning too. Don’t worry, I’ll be home by noon. Love you. -J

My lips pursed as I sighed. Nightmares had crept up on Jayde out of nowhere for the past several nights. It’s kept the both of us up and I quickly ran out of ideas to ease her torment. Seeing her grow progressively more exhausted every day was hard to witness. I could only do so much for her and I felt helpless when the mental lows dragged on longer than usual. Being there for her made me feel a little less useless, so I became disappointed that I hadn’t been roused when she suffered.

Searching for threats all night and all morning with hardly any sleep didn’t exactly sound like a good solution. Jayde probably banked on patrols tiring her out enough to get a somewhat decent rest later. At least, I hoped that was her motive. Jayde’s coping mechanisms could be unpredictable. 

Now that I was sufficiently worried, I put the note down and pulled myself out of bed to start the day.

I powered through a distracted breakfast, going back and forth on whether or not to send someone for her. Jayde could get hurt out there. I’m sure Skye or Toby would agree to check on her if she didn’t return when she said. 

Being burnt out wouldn’t stop Jayde from defending herself if she had to. My girlfriend was a force to be reckoned with on bad days just as much as on good ones, I needed to remember that.

But then the possibility of her falling into a panic attack made me anxious. There had to be a hundred terrible things swirling around in her mind that had been brought to the surface during her recent nightmares. With her guard lowered from a lack of sleep, I feared the slightest thing might trigger a reaction. She should never have to endure that alone.

Noon came and went without any sign of Jayde. My anxiety rose as the sun readied its descent. Not even the few patients that came to see me in the clinic took my mind off of things. All kinds of scenarios ran through my head the longer her absence continued and I wondered if this was how Jayde felt whenever I made her worried sick.

I decided to close the clinic a little early and make my way to the Den. Toby nodded as I approached the bar. He wordlessly started to make my usual after work tea, but I had an important question. “Have you heard from Jayde at all today?” 

He shook his head. “Isn’t she on patrol?”

Disappointment sunk in my gut. “Yeah. Since last night.” 

“Oh.” Toby tried to hide it, but I still caught the alarmed glint in his dark brown eyes.

“Exactly,” I said with a heavy sigh. “Do you think you can go out there and bring her home?”

A pained expression twisted his features as he lifted a regretful shoulder. “When she gets like this… she doesn’t really listen to me much. It’s always a dismissive excuse until she’s done wearing herself out. I’m sure it can’t be that much longer.” 

Waiting didn’t appeal to me at all. I chewed on my bottom lip and tapped my fingers on the bar in thought. “I think I might know how to get her to come back.” 

“How?”

“I’m gonna have to go out there myself.” 

Toby completely stopped what he was doing. “Now that isn’t a good idea, Nadya.” 

“It’s been days since she got a decent rest and she’s been out there since before the sun came up,” I pointed out. “She’ll follow me home herself to keep me safe.” 

“And be pissed that you went into a restricted section of the property, ‘cause, you know, you could get bit or mauled.” Sarcastic as his tone sounded, the words were true. 

I shrugged. “At least she won’t be thinking about her bad dreams.” 

“Jesus,” Toby scoffed. “You sound like her, you know that?”

I forced a casual smirk to stoke the resemblance. “I’ll bring protection, it’ll be fine.” 

“Nadya, seriously, let me at least go with you.” 

“That’ll defeat the purpose. Jayde will just make you be the one to escort me back.” 

He threw his hands in the air. “You’re supposed to be the responsible one!” 

“See you at dinner,” I chuckled softly and turned on my heel to head towards my room.

I retrieved my hiking bag out of the closet, but hesitated before closing the door. Toby was right, Jayde won’t be happy about the fact I crossed lines I shouldn’t. If I came prepared, though, she might not be as upset with me going out to find her. After the moment passed, I steeled my resolve and pushed coats and clothes aside. 

I put it in the closet, right? 

Halfway into rummaging through our stuff, it clicked. I remembered that I put it behind the bookshelf because Jayde kept her weapons in the closet. There were very limited places that I could keep it away from Jayde, yet close enough to grab during an emergency. 

I reluctantly knelt down beside the tall bookshelf and slid my fingers in the space between the wall and the shelf until I felt an edge of the long, thin box that I had not touched since the day Jayde gave it to me. The first week I lived here, she had presented it as a gift after I asked for permission to hike some of the trails on my own. 

I pulled the sleek box out and flipped it open with a snap. Inside, the silver knife that belonged to a dead hunter remained pristine in its sheath. Untouched. Awaiting a purpose I hoped would never come. 

Not a single bone in my body ever intended to use this knife. Honestly, I had been more than a little horrified when Jayde gave me a weapon capable of hurting her so badly. I didn’t want to own anything silver. However, she had been adamant about the knife keeping me safe from any wolves that might get the wrong idea or ones unable to control their urges. I told her I would carry it with me whenever I went out on my own, but I was convinced I didn’t need it. After a few trails had been marked for my safety – as well as any other humans that visited the Lodge –, everyone knew where they needed to go on the property. That should be good enough. 

I sighed and attached the weapon to my belt. It felt wrong. 

With how massive the perimeter is, I studied Jayde's map of the property marked with patrol routes. I didn’t have a lot of daylight left, so I made a guess on where to start and hurried off. 

The entire forest felt calmer than usual as I navigated the twists and turns carved out into the earth by both boots and paws. I understood why Jayde came out here to soothe her demons. There really wasn’t any better medicine for a troubled mind than the expansive world of crisp air and lush greenery. For a moment I felt unsure about venturing out here, but I wanted to be certain that she was okay. 

Using some of the tracking skills I picked up from Toby, I eventually spotted a cluster of fresh pawprints in the soft dirt, possibly alluding to a recent patrol. I headed in the direction they went and kept my senses alert for any movement as I entered a restricted section of the property. 

I didn’t really feel afraid in the beginning, though the forest seemed to grow denser around me the deeper I went. It swallowed me like a maw full of gangly teeth. Wind groaned through the branches like a ghostly howl. The thick brush served as perfect camouflage for most of the common coat colors I’d seen on other werewolves. I wouldn’t know if I had a shadow until they wanted me to know. For the very first time, I became unnerved in these woods.  

The pace of my steps slowed significantly to not drown out any potential footfalls that weren’t my own. I didn’t want to prolong my time across boundaries, but I also didn’t want to abandon caution either. With any luck, the only people aware of my presence at all would be the patrol. 

I briefly wondered if I might get into trouble for coming out here. Maybe they had citations for humans that visited the Lodge and violated certain rules. Although, I felt unsure if there even was an official rule since I hadn’t seen any other humans stay on the property. I guess I’ll find out, but any repercussions will be worth it for Jayde.

A snap of a twig made me flinch, my hand immediately flying towards the knife on my hip. After a quick scan of my surroundings, I convinced myself it had been nothing to worry about, and continued on the trail. I shouldn’t let the paranoia and guilt cause my emotions to fluctuate. Jayde mentioned the scents of negative emotions could overwhelm some wolves. 

I must have hiked at least a mile into the woods without many signs of the werewolves I knew roamed around in these parts. Jayde could honestly be on the other side of the property, meaning I not only wasted my time, but I put myself in potential danger for nothing. 

This will definitely put her in a wonderful mood. Great work, Nadya, I thought and rolled my eyes at myself. 

Dusk started to bring darkness. A flashlight rested in the pocket of my backpack, but I wasn’t eager to explore in the night. I made the reluctant decision to turn around and simply hope I’ll run into Jayde on my way back. Maybe she had returned to the Lodge in my absence. 

I only traveled a handful of paces when I suddenly heard a low, guttural growl that seemed to vibrate through the loose earth under my boots to shake my bones. My entire body froze. Invisible fingers of ice tickled at the back of my neck. No way would I be able to reach my knife in time if this wolf chose to attack, but I slowly turned my head to the side to at least calculate my chances of running away. 

A light gray wolf stood with their ears pinned back and their hackles raised as another chilling snarl rumbled out of their chest. But I realized they did not direct the warning at me. No, they faced another wolf.

This rust colored wolf’s gaze kept shifting from the gray wolf to me, and I realized that the gray one stood between us purposefully. They were protecting me. I noted that the yellow eyes of the rust colored wolf twinkled almost hungrily in my direction. Their intentions, while not fully clear, didn’t come off as friendly in the slightest. In fact, I got the impression that I had been stalked for an unknown amount of time. The gray wolf took an aggressive step towards them, hackles raised, and the russet wolf finally backed down. With an indignant shake of their ruff, the mischievous werewolf bounded off and disappeared into the forest. 

A massive sigh of relief allowed me to relax all of my tense muscles. I opened my mouth to thank the gray wolf, but they turned around to fix me with the same displeased glare. Their quiet grumble informed me of their irritation at my presence just as much as words would have. 

“I know, I know,” I admitted sheepishly. “I shouldn’t be out here and I’m really sorry. I was just looking for Jayde.” 

Their icy blue eyes narrowed. This had to be one of her patrol partners. 

I attempted to reason some more. “I know you know that she’s been out here too long. I’m worried about her. She needs to come home now.”

The wolf gave a disgruntled huff, but then tipped their head towards the sky and released a long howl. A couple silent beats passed before answering howls ignited the forest. No matter how many times I heard a werewolf's howl, it was no less entrancing. If I listened closely, I could pick out her beautiful voice from the chorus. I guessed that my protector heard it, too. They nodded at me to follow them and I wasted no time trying to keep up with their quadrupedal form.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I recognize you like this,” I said to break the silence. Not that they could answer me with words, but I could still guess. By their stature and the look in their eyes, I thought I had a decent idea. “Are you Lee?”

An ear flicked back towards me, followed by an affirming grunt.

“It’s a good thing I got it right the first time, huh? This could have been awkward,” I joked.

The silent glare I received was very much not amused. I decided to shut up until he brought me to Jayde.

A little while later, I picked up on the telltale rush of the river that ran all the way down the valley into town. A small clearing opened up by the bank where a group of wolves waited for our arrival. Some of them seemed to enjoy the break from patrolling. A pair were curled up together and playfully nipping at each other's ears. A few lapped at the running water and shook dirt off their coats. One stood guard on top of a large boulder, though they looked rather unbothered in the presence of their company.

Every pair of glowing eyes turned towards me as soon as I set foot in the clearing. I might as well be lit up by a spotlight. It felt like the first time I had to give a presentation in school. Their gazes scrutinized me for interrupting their work and I certainly couldn’t blame them. The best I could do was finish my business quickly and get out of their way. Nerves tightened my throat as I searched the wolfish faces for Jayde. 

Then a familiar large white wolf appeared from the other side of the boulder. She stopped dead in her tracks as soon as she saw me. I offered an apologetic smile. “Hi, Jay.”  

Jayde shook her ruff with a low grumble and approached me with purpose. On all fours, her shoulders were well above my hips. She used the advantage of her height to thoroughly inspect every inch of me. Her golden eyes briefly flashed towards mine when she noted the silver knife. I allowed her to find reassurance in my armed and unscathed state before I explained my unexpected appearance. 

“It’s gonna be dark soon.” I tentatively reached out to run a hand through her coarse fur. The patches behind her ears were always the softest. “Are you coming home?” 

While she didn’t shrug off my touch, she still lightly growled in displeasure. Jayde gently took my sleeve between her teeth and led me away from the clearing. Once we were far enough, she released my shirt and nudged me further ahead with her nose. I noticed that she threw a glance towards Lee, who wordlessly took his place by my side again. No words needed to be spoken for me to understand she was sending me back without her.

I planted my feet. “Hey, wait a second, you’re not coming with me?”   

Jayde motioned up at the setting sun through the trees and shook her head. Patrol doesn’t switch shifts until after sundown. I had a sneaking suspicion that she’d still be out here by then. 

“You promised to be back by noon,” I reminded her. When she wouldn’t look at me, I lifted her chin until the deep amber glow of her eyes met my mundane ones. “I’ve been worried about you all day.” My index finger scratched at the soft fur under her jaw, but she still held her ground. I sighed. “Look, if you really need to stay, then I’ll leave with Lee, but I’d really rather it be you.” 

She hesitated for several seconds, her intense wolfish gaze locked on me. It was always harder for me to tell what went on in her head when she was a wolf, but I held on to the hope that maybe Jayde would give in to her exhaustion. My silent wish turned into reality as soon as her ears finally folded back. She nuzzled into my hand with a low whine and I placed a kiss on her forehead with a smile, which made her tail tuck in. 

Such a puppy sometimes.

“Let’s go,” I said, fondly brushing my fingers across her snout. Then I turned to the gray wolf. “Thank you, Lee. I’m really sorry again.”

He gave me a single nod in acknowledgement and returned to the others. A better reaction than I thought I’d get. 

Our trek back to the Lodge went by slowly. Whatever facade Jayde had put on for the others to hide her exhaustion crumbled once it became just the two of us. Her pace was sluggish and her head hung low. She even stumbled on a root. To help her conserve what little energy she had, I remained fairly quiet. Not that we could have made much conversation anyway. All I wanted was to get her home and in bed. Surely the long, undisturbed rest she’s been needing will finally come. 

The lights from the Lodge in the distance served as a beacon once the sun had fallen too low to offer me any useful light. Jayde may be by my side, but I still looked over my shoulder every now and then for the shadow I had earlier. That wolf must be long gone, but it still unnerved me that they had followed my trail for an unknown amount of time before Lee shooed them off. 

Before long, the warm embrace of our room filled us both with relief. I shut the door behind us and headed for the bathroom. “I’ll meet you in the shower,” I told Jayde just as she started to shift back. 

I let hot water wash away all the grime and soothe my muscles from my impromptu hike. It felt so good that I simply stood under the showerhead and closed my eyes for what had to be minutes. Only when I felt a familiar presence enter the shower behind me did I open them and turn around.

Jayde looked even more worn out in her human form. Dark circles hung under her half lidded eyes. Her usually straight posture slumped like her head weighed three times more than it did. I noted a slight wobble in her legs from running around all day. Not a single regret plagued me. She’d definitely still be out there pushing herself to the bone if I hadn’t gone for her. 

“You could’ve gotten hurt,” she scolded before I got the chance to say anything. Even her voice sounded heavy. 

I smiled warmly and reached out to cup the back of her neck. Jayde was too tired to protest the shower-drenched kiss I pressed to her lips. I felt some life breathe back into her when I gave her mouth a few light strokes with my own. She parted her lips and swayed into me, her hands landing on my hips to find balance. 

“Get under the water,” I softly instructed. “Let me wash you.” 

Jayde found her resolve for a moment after we broke apart. “I’m serious. Don’t do that again.” 

I switched our positions and pushed her hair back as the steaming water flowed over her body. Then I kissed her again with the intent to subdue her worries as well as my own. Her muscles went slack and her lips followed mine when I pulled away. “It was a one time thing, I promise.”

She released a sigh of relief and rested her forehead against mine. “Okay. I’m sorry I worried you.” 

“You’re home now,” I murmured. 

Jayde’s lips delicately caressed mine once more. “I am.”

I took it upon myself to methodically clean most of her body. I started with her hair, massaging shampoo and then conditioner into her scalp. Her eyes remained blissfully closed for the entire thing like she was at a spa. I held back laughter. Then she rested her head on my shoulder, practically melting against me as I dragged a washcloth up and down her back. A part of me thought I should have drawn a bath. 

“Did Lee spook you?” she mumbled into my skin. 

“What do you mean?”

A quiet hum echoed off the tiles. “You were afraid earlier. I could sense it.” 

“Oh.” At first I wasn’t sure if I should tell her about the other wolf, but I knew she’d hear it from Lee if she didn’t hear it from me. “No, there was someone else out there. They got a bit too close, but Lee sent them on their way.” 

That made her lift her head up to frown at me. “Were they stalking you?”

The worried furrow in her brow needed to go away, so I lied. “No, I’m pretty sure we just stumbled across each other’s paths. They blended in really well with the forest.”

My words seemed to appease her for now. That or she didn’t have the energy while I was safe in her presence. Jayde relaxed back into my arms. “Alright. I’m glad you had your knife. Especially considering it’s been behind the bookshelf since I gave it to you.”

Of course she's known this whole time.

“I hate that thing,” I admitted. 

“Take it with you more. Even on the safer trails.” 

“Jay –”

“For me, Nadya,” she quietly pleaded.   

“Okay,” I agreed. To lighten the mood, I went for a different subject. “Are you gonna be up for some dinner after we get out?”

“Honestly, I just wanna sleep for a week.” 

“That’s about how much you need to catch up on.”

“I fucking feel it,” she groaned. 

I kissed the side of her head. “Let’s finish up, then.” 

Once we were both clean, I took Jayde’s hand and led her out of the shower. She looked about ready to pass out at any given second. Getting dressed seemed to be too strenuous a task for her tonight, so I picked out some comfortable clothes and helped her into them. Only then did I start to feel the toll on my own body. While I had gotten more sleep than Jayde, I still missed a full uninterrupted night’s rest for several days in a row. It might be considered a bit too early to turn in for the night, but neither of us cared. 

With one of Jayde’s flannels comfortably on my shoulders and the softest pair of shorts I owned on my hips, I jumped into bed and let myself sink into the mattress. “This is what dreams are made of.” 

Jayde managed to chuckle at my dramatics. “You are way too tempting.”

I glanced over to see her standing at the edge of the bed, eyes tracing my bare legs. Desire won out and she delicately brushed my thigh with the back of her fingers, bringing forth a wave of goosebumps along my skin. A knowing smirk tugged at the corners of my mouth. “Come here.”

At the sound of my beckoning voice, Jayde carefully crawled on top of me. Her lips landed on mine with a passionate, yet lazy cadence. The sensations calmed everything from my heart to the air that left my lungs, making time itself seem to slow down around us.

Our legs became as entwined as our shared sighs of tranquility. Jayde could smell emotions. I wondered if she could taste them, too, because nothing felt more reverent than her clipped breath passing through my parted lips. Or the way the silky heat of her tongue graced mine. 

Her mouth traveled to my neck where she placed a few wet kisses that were more chaste than I expected. I felt the bridge of her nose nuzzle just underneath my ear as she whispered, “I just want to fall asleep with you.” 

I played with her hair, curling the damp blonde strands around my fingers. “Then close your eyes.” 

“What if I just have more bad dreams?” 

“You won’t,” I said confidently. “They’re done with you for now.” 

“How do you know?”

“Because I said so.” 

Jayde’s soft chuckle tickled my skin. She kissed my pulsepoint one more time and pushed herself up. Curiosity made me blink as she reached over to my nightstand and grabbed my glasses. A laugh pushed out of my lungs as she placed them on me with intent and gave me a playful peck. “Will you read to me, my love?”

I wanted to make a joke asking if this is how we get freaky in bed, but the tired and adorably expectant look on her face caused me to focus on nothing else besides her earnest request. I retrieved my current novel from the nightstand. “Of course.” 

Jayde happily nestled down against me. With a long-winded sigh, her body completely melted on top of mine like a warm weighted blanket. I opened the book and propped it up on the back of her shoulders. As soon as I started to read aloud, I felt her relax even more. She found a spot in the crook of my neck to rest her lips until her measured breaths evened out to the steady rhythm of sleep. I still read on for quite a while, knowing the vibration of my voice would keep the nightmares away.

[watermelonsugacry]

Writing Fine Line: She

A/N: Hey everyone! As today marks the last day of the Fine Line era, I got the courage to release my harry series here. I’ve been writing this series for about 9-10 years now and it’s based around the idea of what if there was a girl in One Direction; aka YOU.

I have a lot more little blurbs for this concept and I plan to release more soon if anyone is interested!

Summary: YN and Harry have known each other since 2010 when they were put in a band together called One Direction. Since the band split up, YN and Harry have kept in close contact, may or may not have grown deeper feelings for one another and have continued to help each other create music. After having helped Harry with HS1, he has invited YN back again to Malibu to help make Fine Line. This was how She was made.

Genre: harry x 1dbandmember!reader, friends to lovers, slow burn

Warning: mentions drug use (mushrooms), possible typos

side note: italicized is voice over commentary (I wrote this kind of like the Behind the Album documentary) Underlined are things Harry actually said irl

Since 2010 Masterlist Previous Song Here! 🐠

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ♬♩♪♩*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧♩♪♩♬✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ♬♩♪♩*:･ﾟ✧*:･

“Well, these look kind of cute.” YN holds a mushroom between her thumb and index finger as she inspects the little fungi in her hands. It’s later in the night and after a hard day of officially completing another song for Harry’s second album, Harry, Mitch and YN have decided to take a more extensive approach of relaxation. Shrooms.

YN has personally never tried it, never had the chance to as she's always been busy. Whether it be with writing new music, tour, interviews, etc. there was never a time for her to ever sit back and relax. She knew that Harry had and he never pressured her to do anything that she didn’t feel comfortable with. Sure, when they were in the band they had shared a blunt once or twice but Harry and YN had shared one of many things in common: they never were intoxicated while working.

“Part of the thing with the mushrooms for me is that I never do anything when I’m working. I don’t even drink when I’m working. I don’t drink really at all. And when I was in the band, to me it felt like it was so much bigger than any of us. I felt like, I’m not going to be the one who messes it up. So I thought, now is the time in my life when you go out and experiment. You take this and you do that. Making this record just felt...joyous. I was with my friends and we were in Malibu and I felt so safe. Now’s the time to have fun—we’re 24, and I’m in music.”

So now YN finds herself sitting on one of the leather sofas in the home studio in Malibu. On the coffee table in front of her, Mitch has everything he needs to make mushroom tea as he prepares some for the three of them to drink. The lighting in the room is a soft orange as the ceiling is covered in fairy lights. When YN first found out about this lighting set up, she found herself smiling at the thought of how much it reminded her of her own studio set up at home.

“Yeah, they’re pretty fun guys if I do say so myself.” Harry gives YN a toothy smile sitting next to her on the sofa, playfully pushing his shoulder with hers.

“If you make another fungi joke, I'm gonna slap you.”

“Kinky.”

“Alright kiddos, drink up.” Mitch hands a mug to YN and one to Harry. She holds the drink with both hands as she looks down at the steaming substance.

“Just drink it nice and slow, alright petal?” She feels the warmth of Harry’s hand on her back. “You don’t have to drink it all either. Just do whatever you feel comfortable doing, ok?” YN is yet again reminded of how much of a caring person Harry is. She pushes down the memories of when they were dating, or if you could even call it that. Their on and off relationship was confusing to the both of them and yet neither of them had the courage to speak to each other about what either of them really wanted.

So instead of succumbing under his gaze and falling further into his touch, she labels his protective hand resting on the back of her neck as no more than a sign of their close friendship.

YN gives Harry a smile before lifting her mug in the space between the three of them.

“To relaxation.” The two men smile along with her and clink their mugs with hers. Harry swallows the tea in hopes to submerge his further temptation to pull YN closer to him. That’s what he has to remind himself of what she is: a temptation. She has to be. Someone he desires but must resist for the sake of his sanity. Nothing more than a friend who’s helping him write and produce his new album.

About 20 minutes later, YN finds herself lying on the floor of the recording booth. Harry sits by a chair near her while Mitch messes with the buttons on the huge panel behind the glass window looking into the booth. She lies on her back, her feet propped up in an amp while she plays random, beautiful strums on her butterfly shaped guitar that Harry gifted her a couple of years ago back when they were in Jamaica making his last album. YN’s hair is spread around her head and from the hazy headspace she’s in, she can picture it looking like a cloud. Or a halo of somesort.

Her breaths come out soft and slow into the air above her. Her eyelids are half closed as she stares up at the ceiling. Her sense of touch feels heightened as her fingers rub against the textured wires of the guitar strings. As she plays different melodies, it’s as if she can see colors swirling around her. They sway and swish around the recording room. Harry sings softly into the microphone hanging in front of him.

“She lives in daydreams with me. She's the first one that I see And I don't know why, I don't know who she is..” She hears Harry sigh as he rubs his eyes. “I don’t know Mitch, it still doesn’t feel right.”

“What do you want to do then?”

“I dunno, mate.” She hears the man groan beside her with a frustrated look on his face. Her eyelids feel heavy as she slowly blinks. YN looks at his green-striped pants—her pants—and enjoys the way that the fabric moves against him. The color swishes out into the space above her.

She can feel Harry look over at her as she lies on the floor near his feet. Unable to have the strength to keep her eyes open any longer, she flutters them close before she plucks and strums on her guitar louder, stronger.

She can still see the colors flying around her, but now they’ve become more vibrant. YN shakes the neck of her butterfly guitar as she plays, an explosion of a multitude of colors burst all around her. She rolls her head along with the melodies and feels the music vibrate in her bones. Her hair, messy and wild beside her moves with her movements.

She scrunches her eyebrows in passion and her shoulders push and pull with each stroke. She pushes the guitar strings against each other and it only makes the colors more vibrant. Her wrist makes the slightest movements as she continues to pluck the melodies out of the instrument in her hands.

She slightly arches her back when she hits certain notes. She feels light, as if gravity didn’t exist and it wasn’t for the weight of the electric guitar in her hands, she might have just flown away.

When her playing comes to the end, she lets the last note drag on for a bit as she shakes the neck of her guitar and flutters her eyes back open. Her chest slowly moves up and down and it makes the butterfly guitar flutter a bit. She shifts her head to look at Harry, her cheek pressed against her shoulder. His lips are parted and it reminds her of a small fish when they blow out bubbles. Harry’s eyes are hooded and his breathing matches her own.

A small smile creeps onto her face and she whispers out into the studio space between them, “That felt nice.” A smile of his own tugs on his lips from just having witnessed the woman he loves play her heart out. Ever since they’ve broken things off a while ago, he’s missed the way she would let loose like this. She’s always been one to express herself through her music and he almost feels guilty for having seen her play. It feels intimate and private. Like no one could ever be worthy enough to have watched her in her moment of serenity.

The next morning, YN doesn't remember anything from the previous night. YN comes into the home studio the next morning with her black coffee to see Harry, Kid and Mitch sitting in front of the big panel of buttons. She hears the last bits of a guitar solo before the last note is dragged out.

“That sounds really dope, Mitch. You really are a wiz on that guitar, mate.” YN says as she leans against the door frame and brings her mug to her lips.

“Mitch fuckin’ rowland.” YN smirks while shaking her head. “He’s so wicked. And he’s basically living the ‘your name’ life.”

“The whot?” Harry's voice can be heard from behind the camera.

“The ‘your name’ life.” YN says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Stop laughing.” YN can’t help but giggle along with the crew.

All three men turn around to face her in shock. YN freezes her movements. “What?”

“As much as I appreciate the compliment,” Mitch says. “That’s not me.” YN furrows her eyebrows at the statement.

“Then.. who is it?”

“That’s you, lovie.” Harry says breathlessly. He smiles at his girl as she raises her eyebrows in surprise.

Harry waves his hand over to YN to come to him. He gently pulls her to sit in his lap and nods to Kid to replay the audio from last night. YN hears Harry singing and talking to Mitch before she hears guitar riffs being played. She feels Harry fully wrap his arms around her middle and rests the side of his cheek on her left shoulder in a cuddle.

She moves her head to the notes being played as if she’s hearing it for the first time. As the last note is dragged out, there’s a pause before YN hears her own voice quietly say “that felt nice.” Once the recording stopped, Mitch and Kid clap and whistle.

“Ah,” YN scrunches up her face and puts a hand over her forehead. “The noise, please boys.”

“Can I use it for m’ song?” Harry asks sweetly behind her, his face still pushed to her shoulder. YN turns her head to look at Harry and he looks up at her so their eyes connect. She notices that his hair is still messy from sleep, sticking up every which way.

“Yeah, of course.” YN says, bringing her hand to Harry's head to run her fingers through his hair once. “I can help match the rest of the song to it so it can all sound a bit more cohesive.” YN says, turning back to the other two boys who nod in agreement.

“Oh come on, the fans will back me up for sure!” YN briefly points to the camera. “Mitch had like a ‘normal’ life, yeh? Like he worked in a pizza shop and was a friend of a friend of Harry's. He was brought onto Harry's team for his first album, toured the world with him and basically has his own fandom.” YN says as if they will pick up what she's putting down. “He’s very close with Harry it’s like they’re practically dating yet no one basically knows shit about him? He’s living a classic ‘your name’ fanfiction!”

“Wait, you wanna use my recording in the song? Officially?” she asks Harry who presses his lips softly to the blanket around her back multiple times.

“Yeah” he mumbles, finally looking up at her. “I mean, Mitch is gonna half to learn it anyway for when we have to perform it.”

“As much of a wiz I am at the guitar,” YN smiles as Mitch uses her words from earlier. “You’re gonna have to teach me this solo.”

“Well that’s gonna be interesting.” YN laughs after taking a sip from her coffee.

“What do you mean?” Harry asks, pulling her closer to him.

“I don't remember the chords.” YN says, shrugging her shoulders.

“How do you not remember how to play this?” Kid says in disbelief. YN lifts a bashful shoulder to her ear and brings her mug to her lips once more as she says her next statement.

“I was high.”

“YN played that guitar when she was a little, ah, influenced. Well, she was on mushrooms, we all were. We had no idea what we were doing. We forgot all about that track, then went back later and loved it. But YN had no idea what she did on guitar that night, so she had to learn it all over from the track and then teach it to Mitch.

Next Song Here! 🌙

[radiosandrecordings]

Okay, at risk of sounding like I’ve emerged from Sherlock forums like a caveman thawed from ice (Look I was 8 in 2010 I didn’t know!) I wanna talk about how in TMA tea legitimately is a stand-in for love/comfort. Specifically by looking at it in episodes 45, 81, 122, the season 5 trailer, and 186.

So 45 is the first time we hear about Martin’s whole tea thing. He comes into Jon’s office to ask if he wants tea, and this is quickly dismissed by the Oh God Jon Are You Stalking Tim? Thing but I think it needs to be mentioned because that’s the start of it all. And it recurs through S2, Martin’s constant worry and doting, both in recording and presumably off recording too, enough that it’s remarked on by other characters. He’s derided for it, Tim in 65 saying “Martin just wants a tea party” when expressing how he feels no one in the Institute cares about him, and in 110 Basira says “Look, Martin. I know you care. I know you do. But caring isn’t enough. You can’t just stand next to someone with a cup of tea and hope everything’s gonna be all right.” It seems to be something he himself is embarrassed about as well, “What, sat around drinking tea until the world ends?! Or, you know, it doesn’t. We hope.” in 116 and then again in 117 with “Anyway, I guess I’m just sick of sitting on my hands drinking tea and hoping everyone’s okay.”

So cut to season 3, 81, when Georgie comes home and Jon immediately offers to make her tea. This is something, to the listener’s knowldge, he has never done before. He feels guilty for taking up her time and home (see: cleaning the kitchen) and wants to do something that he’s picked up, consciously or unconsciously, that means ‘Here is something to show I care about you, an act of service and a gift in one. I do this for you because I cannot speak the words I wish to convey myself, so I give you this, which gives the reassurance and comfort that you need’

And she just dismisses him out of hand! Because at one stage (S4 Q&A I believe?) Jonny talks about how he is trying to explore a certain specific dynamic between each set of characters when it comes to their relationships to each other, and I at least like to think of Jon’s relationship with Georgie as being about a lack of information and context, and that’s what created the rift between them, imperfect information being used as a basis for judgement. So here she displays this by just not having the context for what tea means to Jon. She hasn’t seen him in years, hasn’t met Martin yet, has no idea that the reason Jon extends her that offer is as an olive branch, an ‘I care about you’, because that’s what Martin has taught Jon it means. I think that one little line in that first interaction between them we hear is a beautiful little microcosm for how their relationship continues. Jon reaches out to Georgie for connection, but she just doesn’t understand his world. She loves Melanie because Melanie is different to Jon, not as deeply embroiled, she can get out, she can be ‘saved’. Wheras she does not have the knowledge we have, about how the last two years for Jon have been hell, so she just sees someone trying to drag her down and, wisely with the information she has but horrifyingly with the information we have, says ‘No, for my own health I am staying away from this’. 

And then we have 122, in which Jon wakes up from being literally dead, and Basira offers him water. Cold, clinical, impersonal water from the hallway of a hospital. It's practical, clears his throat, and it’s exactly like how Basira treats him. Nothing special, no thought gone into it beyond ‘What is the tactically right thing to do here?’ because the whole of S4 is about Basira showing a startling lack of empathy for Jon, her former frien- Well. Person she is friendly towards. She has branded him as a monster, and thus he gets treated as such. No compassion for those we’ve slapped the label of ‘Evil’ on. And of course, she doesn’t get the subtext, because her whole thing is despite being incredibly intelligent, she has a habit of taking things at face value because she trusted Daisy’s judgement of people and never looked further into it, lest that make her uncomfortable with her actions, and this is exactly what she proceeds to do with Jon. Keep him at a distance. Don’t look in his eyes, lest you see something you recognise in there. And he calls after her, asking that, actually, would she be able to get tea? And she doesn't hear him. She puts a lot of effort into never hearing him. 

But what else had he done after waking up? Oh yeah. He asks “Where’s Martin?”, with such confusion because he cannot imagine a world where someone he took for granted previously isn’t there to offer him reassurance. He says it himself, “Honestly, I’m surprised Martin isn’t –” He’s surprised! And he wants him there. He wants him to be there so badly, just like he isn’t for the entire rest of the season. So he asks for the thing that has meant comfort and kindness to him in his place. And, because Martin is no longer there, he doesn’t get it.

And in the S5 trailer we have this whole thing spelt out for us! Martin brings Jon tea in the safehouse and well, it ain't fuckin tea! And so Jon says 'You can't trust comfort' because that's what tea has always been for him, that steady thing throughout, comfort that he can no longer have. The world is ruined and now tea isn’t even safe from corruption, twisted into something meant to inspire fear in them, a symbol turned on it’s head. And then, 162 Martin finds some left over, under the sink, and that's what they take to the apocalypse. That one last piece of comfort that Jon finds in Martin, in his intelligence and his perseverance and kindness and hope. In his unwavering ability to care, if not for, then about Jon.

... But if we’re tackling ‘Tea’ as a whole we have to divert from the beautiful love story a little and talk about 186, and tea, and trauma. Tea has always been Martin’s thing, so it makes sense it would slip neatly into his backstory. His mother, cold and dismissive and uncaring, requested tea whenever she didn’t want to have to deal with him. It was a way to give him a task, make him feel useful, and a way to get him to leave the room. This is why he began to bring Jon tea. Jon was, unfortunately, a bit like his mother. Someone whom he wanted to please, but didn’t seem to have the time of day for him. So he makes them both tea, because Martin’s mother used it to dismiss him, and then when he tries to apply the same tactic he’s had drilled into him to Jon, Jon originally dismisses him because of the tea. It’s a bother to him, before he realises how necessary that connection is. So now I’m just thinking about this thing that became a source of anguish for Martin, so much so that even as an adult, even after his mother is dead, he still can’t taste oolong without being hit with the memory of that pain and belittlement. And how Jon, with some time and character development, took that thing he did out of desperation for approval and turned it into something Jon made a pillar of his life, the symbol of Martin in goodness and his love and Jon sought it out every chance he got, and passed it onto others as an act of kindness as well. Martin’s mother meant the tea as a veiled hate, but it got passed down and distilled through enough love that when Jon offers tea to Georgie, what he is saying is “I care about you”. 

[share-the-damn-bed]

Hello! I just want to say I’m glad you’re back because your gif sets of Jancy really highlight their beautiful love story. I do agree with the previous anon that Nancy’s neutral stance this season in regards to Steve seem to be expanded to everyone in the group she was with this season. The most she opened up to someone outside of UD stuff were Fred and Robin where she only talked about Jonathan. And N not holding on to S after Vecna compared to holding J after the UD tree in S1 speaks volumes

Continuing from the other ask, isn’t showing neutral feelings toward someone worse than showing any feeling? It’s like Steve doesn’t make Nancy feel anything no matter how hard he tries. She pushes away from him after the UD earthquake, doesn’t hold him back after Vecna, and forgets his existence when Jonathan shows up until he mentions him. Narratively Jancy is the only thing that makes sense. If St*ncy happens Nancy will just be a robot with her character development down the drain.

Thank you so much, Anon!! I greatly appreciate your comment and take it to heart. I view gif making and gif set creation as a visual display of my own thematic analyses which end up telling the story of/giving insights into these two characters and the fact that they’re so expressive and have so much chemistry in their scenes together makes gif-ing them so much fun. When the sets end up pretty and eye-catching, that’s just a bonus :)

In regards to Steve and Nancy’s character interactions in ST4, I don’t think Nancy’s muted reactions are an accurate representation of her feelings towards Steve. I think this season focused on letting Steve shoot his shot with Nancy and show he still has feelings but doesn’t let her react so that it can be addressed in the final season. It’s almost like they symbolically slapped some duct tape over her mouth so that she could only minimally respond and that way the story will wrap in ST5 instead of ST4. And I do think there are muted moments with Jonathan as well (Though their interactions were overwhelmingly more heartfelt, emotional, and touching (I’’m totally not biased)). For example, that scene at the cabin is VERY confusing and I really don’t know what to make from some of the lines and character expressions without giving me a headache. But I think what Nancy’s actress (Natalia Dyer) says in her interview with Variety last month rings very true for the whole Steve and Nancy thing:

 “What this season [season 4] touches on is the fact that these two people [Nancy & Steve] do care about each other and that hasn’t gone away. What that is and what label you want to put on that, I don’t know, but we see these characters meeting again after growing up and going through life with it.” 

Steve is giving off romantic intentions, but Nancy could be (and I believe she is) experiencing admiration, nostalgia, and other non-romantic forms of care for Steve which is beautiful but I wish it was more clear. Remember: Nancy likes Steve, but she doesn’t love him. And Murray is never wrong. However I understand why they chose to make it all vague and that is because they want the drama of a love triangle and that just sucks. But I’ve accepted it. 

Look, I don’t really want to make 1,000 more posts on my thoughts on the love triangle and all my conflicting thoughts and theories. Not to mention I have been very wrong before. Look at a lot of my analyses and predictions pre-volume two that are just wrong (but ARE logically sound if I do say so myself). I stand by what I said here (making it make sense) and especially here (insights with distance). But if you (or anyone else) want to message me “so about that whole love triangle thing...” I will happily unload all of my unhinged thoughts on you, Anon. 

I still believe in Jancy, even if that means they break up in ST5 and the writers leave Jancy’s ending ambiguous in the final epilogue.  I truly believe they’ll find their way back to each other no matter what. And that is beautiful.

[ragingbookdragon]

You Light The Spark In My Bonfire Heart

Kyle Rayner x Batbro One-Shot

Word Count: 2.7K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: I HAVEN'T HAD ANY WIFI ALL DAY BUT NOW I DO AND this is my new obsession and pair and you can tear it from my cold dead hands. Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

Kyle had an easy morning routine: get up, eat breakfast, brush teeth, workout, shower, drink protein shake, and draw. It was simple and effective, and helped him maintain a sense of normalcy that he didn’t always have when he was up in space. He typically started out with sketching small things, mostly faces and limbs from memory, the occasional suit redesign, then he’d get into the bigger works, drawing comic panels and the commissions he had. And while Kyle loved to be up in space, to be a Green Lantern, drawing felt like coming home to him, like it was the natural state. That being said, he didn’t love being interrupted when he was in the middle of something important—it was bad for the groove.

***

As the second round of knocking sounded on his door, Kyle grunted and stood from his desk, padding through the hallway to his front door; he flicked the lock and pulled open the door, surprise etching across his face when he saw the eldest Wayne leaning against the door frame—rather cockily, Kyle added, because the soldier’s arm was propped on the frame, the other stuck in the side-pocket of his dark tactical bomber jacket.

“Good morning, Kyle,” he greeted with a smirk. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

The Lantern blinked, shaking his head. “Uh, no, you’re not, (Y/N).” he looked at him. “What are you doing here?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Had some business to take care of for my dad, and since I was in the area, I figured I’d drop by and see if you wanted to get some lunch with me.”

Kyle took a moment to lean out the doorway slightly, looking down the stretched hallway. “How’d you know where I live?”

“Please, a magician never reveals his secrets,” he deflected coolly, gazing at Kyle. “What do you say? Wanna get some lunch? I know a really good sports bar that serves great food.”

He looked back at (Y/N) and smiled. “Yeah. Let me go get dressed.”

The soldier merely winked in return and with fumbling hands, Kyle managed to shut the door before his cheeks burst into flames, hurrying back to his bedroom to pull together an outfit that would impress the man.

***

Kyle almost dropped to his knees when he saw the car parked outside his apartment building, and (Y/N) knew it too, because he chirped, “Gorgeous, isn’t she?”

He nodded dumbly. “Is this a McLaren 720S?”

“Mhm.” He opened the doors and slid into the driver’s seat, looking through the passenger door. “Coming?”

“Am I ever,” Kyle breathed, climbing into the seat, immediately running his hands along the dashboard and seat. “I’m in love.”

“Wait till you hear her purr,” (Y/N) said, closing the doors, and pushing the ignition. The sports car roared to life and he grinned at the way Kyle’s face melted. “Yeah, she’s a beauty.” He put the car in drive and looked through the side mirror, then pulled out onto the street.

“Is this one of your dad’s cars?”

“Nah, I bought this for myself a couple months ago.” He pulled the sunglasses from his t-shirt and put them on. “This and an Audi TT.”

Kyle huffed a laugh. “Jesus, you billionaires live it up, don’t you?”

(Y/N) smiled. “Hey, I live life in the fast lane. Might as well drive in it too.” He pushed a button on the touch screen and music filtered through the speakers, and Kyle’s face pinched in confusion. “What?”

“This isn’t—James Blunt isn’t the music I figured you’d play.”

“What’d you think I’d be listening too? Rock?” he chuckled, turning the volume down a bit. “Don’t get me wrong, I listen to all kinds of rock music, but I figured you’d want something easy rather than head-bang your brains out rock.” (Y/N) stopped at a red light and glanced over. “You can look through the artists on my phone if you want.”

Kyle shook his head, relaxing into the seat as the melody flowed through him. “No, I like this artist.” The soldier merely smiled in return, pressing the gas pedal again, and Kyle suddenly remembered something. “Speaking of artist, I saw the canvas in your bedroom the other day. Do you draw?”

(Y/N) hummed. “Not like you. It’s more of a pastime than a lifestyle.”

“You’re good at it. You’re painting your family in their suits. Details and designs included.” The artist regarded him with impression. “That takes skill.”

“I’d like to think I just have a steady hand and a lot of patience for stressful tasks.” (Y/N) turned the wheel, coming up behind a line of cars. “It’s an easy way for me to relax and mentally run through past events.”

“Like what?” Kyle questioned curiously.

(Y/N)’s eyes narrowed, but not in a loathing way, more of a thoughtful one. “Missions, conversations, things I could’ve done differently, things I will do differently.” He shrugged again. “Painting for me is just a time when I think about everything and nothing.”

“Well, you’re great at it, (Y/N).”

He snorted. “It’s just a bunch of paintings of my family and friends and military shit.”

Kyle blinked and leaned over. “Wait, is that painting in the den—”

“The one of the F-18 Super Hornet?”

“Yeah. You painted that?”

(Y/N) nodded. “Yep. I got Hal Jordan to take me up in one a few years ago and decided to commemorate the trip.”

“Wow,” the Lantern breathed. “I stared at that canvas for at least an hour the first time I saw it. I was just so blown away by how amazing it was.” He chuckled and shook his head. “And to find out, you drew it and not some world-famous painter.”

“Hey, I could be world famous if I wanted.” (Y/N) shot back, turning onto a less busy backstreet. “I just choose to retain my talents for family and friends.”

“Because of your job?”

“That too.” He agreed. “My squad and I take careful precautions to avoid our faces being seen during any missions for the safety of our families.” His face turned as solemn as his voice. “We do what we do to make the world safer. To keep our families and friends safe. It’s imperative that we’re not seen.”

Kyle cocked a brow. “But you’re Bruce Wayne’s son?”

“I am,” he nodded. “But I’m not as…out as the rest of my siblings. You’d be able to recognize them from press photos, but me not so much.” (Y/N) pulled into a parking spot outside the bar. “People only recognize me when they see the name on the credit cards. And I prefer to keep it that way.” A goofy smile crossed his lips. “The high life isn’t for me.”

“Says the man that drives a 710 horsepower sports car.” Kyle shot back with a grin of his own and (Y/N) stuck his tongue out as he turned the car off and opened the doors.

“Okay, I’m not actively in the high life but that doesn’t mean I don’t like luxury.” He closed the car doors and opened the front door to the bar for Kyle. “After you.”

“Thank you.” He replied, and walked inside, only stopping to turn and ask, “Do you want to sit at the bar or a table?”

(Y/N) tipped his head to the side. “I’m down with both, but I like the bar more.”

“Bar it is,” Kyle said and slid into one of the chairs, (Y/N) the other, and an older man wandered over.

“Well, I’ll be damned, is that (Y/N) Wayne I see?”

He turned, expression morphing into joy as he reached out and shook the older man’s hand. “Jack, it’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you son. How’ve you been?”

“Ah, you know me, sir. Nothin’ changing but the weather.”

Jack snorted. “And the desert where you dig sand outta your ass.”

(Y/N) chuckled. “Damn straight.” He looked at Kyle. “Kyle, I’d like you to meet Jack Dagher. He’s an old CO of mine.”

Kyle shook the man’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“It’s all mine,” Jack replied. “It’s been a while since (Y/N) brought anybody here.”

At that, Kyle turned to the soldier who was busy looking anywhere but his face. “Is that so?”

“Oh yeah. Sonovabitch doesn’t bring his dates here unless he really likes ‘em.”

(Y/N) coughed, glaring at the man. “Alright, we get it. Aren’t you supposed to be taking orders?”

Jack gave him a smug look in return. “What can I get you boys to drink?”

“I’ll take a beer,” Kyle said, and Jack rolled his eyes.

“No shit, kid. What kind?”

(Y/N) snickered as Kyle flushed. “Uh, a Heineken.”

Jack sighed. “And he had such potential. (Y/N)?”

“Gimme a strawberry daiquiri then water after.”

“Still ordering fruity drinks, huh?”

“Hey, they get you drunk faster than horse piss does, you old fart.” He shot back and the old man chuckled.

“Touché.” He slapped the bar. “I’ll bring those to you with an order of chili fries.”

“Thanks Jack,” (Y/N) smiled, watching the man walk off before turning to Kyle who was watching one of the baseball games. “You like sports?”

He tipped his head side to side. “I don’t not like them. I was never a sporty kid in school, but I like watching them.” He looked at the solider. “What were you like in school? Jock or prep?”

“Probably a bit of both,” he answered. “I played sports and had the highest grades.” Shrugging, he added, “And being a Wayne boosted me into the top tier of schools, so, there’s that. To be honest, I think all of us Wayne kids were and are a mixture of every stereotypical category.”

“I can see that,” Kyle laughed. “Especially with Jason and Dick.”

“Shit, I was talking about Timmy.” (Y/N) said. “That kid’s a grade A nerd.”

“He is, isn’t he?”

The two of them laughed and a woman placed their drinks in front of them, both giving their thanks as they took sips.

“Can I ask you something, (Y/N)?”

“My muscles are one hundred percent real. Especially my abs. Which you’re allowed to feel on in envy if you want.”

Kyle snorted into his beer, wiping his mouth. “No!” a few more chuckles passed his lips as he wiped the bar. “Are you…you know…?”

“A Leo?” (Y/N) offered with a smile, but his eyes told Kyle he knew exactly what the Lantern was asking, and he said, “I like the liquor, but I don’t care what label it has on it.”

The other man smiled. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“But if you want the technical term, I am pansexual.” He regarded Kyle a moment. “You?”

“Bisexual.”

His lips pulled in an impressed fashion. “Pretty fly for a bi guy.”

Kyle gaped at him for a moment, then shoved (Y/N) in the side as he buried his face in his arms and laughed. “You’re so stupid.”

“Ah thank you,” he grinned. “I get it from my old man.”

“You,” he cut himself off with a cackle. “do not get that from him.”

“Look, you know the big man in the suit. You don’t know the complete goober we live with,” (Y/N) chuckled, smiling at the waitress who placed menus in front of them; he picked his up and flipped through it.

“What do you recommend?”

“Hmm…anything with bacon on it.” He showed the menu. “If you like salads, get the steak and blue cheese one, it’s fantastic. Or if you’re more into tacos, they’ve got these awesome shrimp carnitas with chili peppers.”

Kyle’s brows furrowed as he looked the menu over. “What are you gonna get?”

“My usual. Tomahawk steak with garlic butter and mashed potatoes.” (Y/N) groaned and rested his head back. “I haven’t had a good steak in months, and I can just taste it already.”

“So, you’re a meat and potatoes kind of man?”

He grinned, keeping his eyes closed. “Unlike the cup noodle and Hawaiian roll man beside me.”

“Ouch. Hit me where it hurts.”

“C’mon Kyle, hit me with your best shot.”

“Better watch it, (Y/N),” he grinned. “You might be the next notch in my pencil case.”

“You’re such a nerd.”

***

“Holy crap,” Kyle breathed, hands resting lightly on his stomach. “I’m stuffed.”

(Y/N) moaned. “Stick a fork in me. I’m done.”

“Done?” their waitress laughed. “You haven’t even finished your desserts yet!”

“Oh God, don’t make me,” the Lantern whined. “I’ll explode.” He looked over. “(Y/N), take one for the team.”

“Pass,” he replied. “I think I’ve gained ten pounds just looking at the rest of the cheesecake.”

The woman laughed. “I’ll wrap the leftovers for you boys.” She wandered off, leaving them alone, and a blaring ringtone filled the space between.

(Y/N) jumped a little, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Do you mind if I get this really quick?”

Kyle shook his head. “Go ahead.”

He slid his thumb along the bottom and rested the phone on the bar. “This is Wayne.”

Captain! Finally. I’ve been texting you all afternoon.

“I know,” he snorted. “I’ve been ignoring it.”

Yeah well, the longer you ignore me the slower it takes for the radar dish to get replaced.

“What are you talking about?” (Y/N) asked. “I thought you’d procured one.”

I did. Then the buyer told me I wasn’t registered for official military hardware.

He frowned. “That’s odd. You did contact Thomas, right?”

Yeah. Beady eyed looking motherfucker who serves on the George Washington, right?

“That’s him.” (Y/N) hummed. “Tell you what, I’ll call him later this evening and get it all sorted out, yeah?”

Sounds good. Hey, did you take that guy out yet? Your little brother won’t stop texting me about some twinkie you’re into.”

(Y/N) froze as he felt Kyle’s eyes drilling into the side of his head and he stuttered, “Uh, Nadeen, now’s not the best time.”

What do you mean best—oh…ohhhhhh. I, uh, I gotta go, Captain.

“Yep. Bye.” He locked the phone and shoved it back into his pocket, refusing to meet Kyle’s eyes. “So…you catch the baseball game?”

“Which one of your brother’s thinks I’m a twink?” Kyle asked. “Wait, don’t tell me. It’s Jason, isn’t it?” he grunted in his throat, deadpanning, “I can’t believe my best friend thinks I’m a twink.”

“It’s Dick, actually.” (Y/N) grinned, turning to face him and he reached over, pinching Kyle’s cheek. “It’s just ‘cause you’re so cute and perky.”

The Lantern merely glared at him, griping, “I’m not as strong as you, put I can punch pretty hard.”

“Ooo, those are fighting words,” he shot back with a smirk, letting Kyle go. “Careful, I’m ticklish.”

“I feel like I’m talking to Hal.”

(Y/N) whined, all but collapsing onto Kyle who started snickering. “I’ve just been murdered.” He buried his face in Kyle’s shoulder. “Can’t believe I was just compared to Highball. The world must be coming to an end.”

“Oh, come on, you big baby. You’re not dying.”

“I am!” he turned his head, gazing at Kyle. “You’ll have to carry me to safety.”

“I don’t think I’m strong enough to carry you.”

“Are you calling me fat?”

“I did not say that.”

“You did, but in more words.”

“Alright, now I’m talking to Guy.”

“THAT’S SO MUCH WORSE!”

***

He leaned against the door frame as Kyle unlocked his front door and pushed it open, turning to look at him. “I had a lot of fun today, (Y/N).” he murmured. “Thanks.”

Winking, he replied, “I’m glad you did. I’d like to do it again soon if you want.”

Kyle nodded. “I’d like that.”

They stared at each other for a few moments and (Y/N) smiled, patting the door frame. “Well, I’d better be heading out. Have to get home in time for dinner.” He paused, giving the man a warm look. “Thanks for having lunch with me, Kyle.”

He’d not gotten two feet from the door when Kyle’s hand wrapped around his wrist. “Wait.” He turned and the Lantern leaned forward, pressing his lips to (Y/N)’s cheek. “Be careful on your way back.”

“I will,” he murmured, watching Kyle wave and disappear into his apartment, the door shutting behind him.

[geminiwritten]

jesse’s girl ; bucky barnes

fandom: marvel

pairing: bucky x reader

summary: natasha encourages you to date one of the new recruits in the hopes that it might provoke bucky to confess his feelings for you

notes: this is messy and i’m so sorry but i’ve be so stuck lately and i had to force myself to get this written! i hope it’s decent...

word count: 4744 (i don’t even know)

Three weeks ago, the only thing you could think about was Bucky Barnes. His blue eyes and the twinkle that they get when he smiles really wide, the way he flips his hair out of his eyes during a sparring match, and the smell of his aftershave after a hot shower. Everything about Bucky Barnes felt as though it was a drug designed specifically for you.

But that was three weeks ago.

After venting to Natasha and Wanda on a long overdue girls’ night, you finally agreed to go on a date with one of the new recruits who had been asking you out for almost a month. His name was Jesse, and he was one of twelve new agents that were being trained by Steve, Sam, and Bucky in the hopes of being able to help on missions where numbers were necessary.

Natasha convinced you that maybe Jesse would be the chance for you to move on and forget about Bucky, since your infatuation was very evidently not reciprocated. You were sceptical at first, but he was cute and funny, and he seemed genuine, so you agreed to go out with him.

“Hey,” you greeted, looking up at the sound of your room door opening, “how was training?”

Despite his soft smile, it was obvious that Jesse was exhausted, “Good, yeah…”

You stood from your desk and gestured for him to give you his heavy tactical jacket, “What’s that ‘yeah’ for?”

“It’s nothing,” he shook his head, “I’m just tired.”

“Really?” you asked, following him as he sat on the edge of your bed to remove his boots.

“I mean,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “I don’t want you to think that I’m making shit up or just being a wuss but…”

“But?”

He sighed, “I just feel like Barnes is going a little hard on me.”

You frowned, unable to stop the way your heartbeat began to race, “What do you mean?”

The fitness watch secured around your wrist beeped at the sudden elevation in heartrate, to which Jesse offered you a confused frown.

You tapped the device in an attempt to shut it up, mumbling, “Stupid thing.”

“I don’t know,” he muttered, thankfully ignoring the watch, “I’m probably just over-thinking it but he really doesn’t seem to like me. He made me do thirty extra laps because I asked an ‘irrelevant question’ even though Timms had just asked him how long lunch break was. And he’s always calling me out for having poor form, he gives me all the broken gear and all the shitty roles during dummy-missions. He’s never even given me a chance to lead but Timms has, twice!”

You frowned, “Which one is Timms again?”

“Frosted tips.”

“Oh,” you watched as he tucked his laces neatly inside his empty boots, “that’s rough.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, “I don’t know, maybe I’m being dramatic.”

You shrugged, “I don’t think so, none of that sounds at all fair to me.”

He turned to you, looking up through his lashes with pleading eyes, “Really? Because I was thinking that maybe, if you didn’t mind, you could talk to him for me?”

Your watch chirped with another heart rate warning, “Oh, um, like talk to Bucky and ask him to ease up, or…”

“Yeah! He doesn’t have to go soft on me just cause I’m dating you,” he winked badly, “but I wouldn’t mind a pat on the back every now and then.”

“A pat on the back?” you echoed, still trying to squash the sound of your watch with your other hand.

He stood quickly from the bed, gathering his jacket and shoes and pausing before the door, “You’re the best, you know that?”

“Wait,” you stood too, “aren’t you staying here tonight?”

He shook his head, “I’ve got an early start tomorrow, and besides, now you have a chance to talk to Barnes for me!”

Though you couldn’t actually remember agreeing to it, you nodded slowly and leant into his kiss as his lips collided with your cheek.

“Thanks babe, see you tomorrow!”

The door swung shut in your face, leaving you to stare bewildered at the empty coat hook stuck to the back of it.

After sitting pensively on the foot of your bed and allowing yourself enough time to process the conversation that had just taken place, you decided to go upstairs. You hadn’t spent a lot of time with the team over the past few weeks, thanks to Jesse, and you couldn’t help feeling a little sheepish as you stepped out of the elevator and into the common room.

“Oh, my!” Tony, the first to lay eyes on you, exclaimed, “Could it be our long-lost comrade?”

Clint chuckled, “We thought you’d been taken hostage, or worse.”

Before you could speak, Peter walked up to you with his hand outstretched, “Hi, my name’s Peter Parker, it’s a pleasure to meet you!”

You gasped indignantly and slapped his hand away, “Watch it, smart ass.”

The rest of the group who were sprawled around the living area rumbled with laughter while Peter received a proud high-five from Tony.

“You know, princess,” Sam said, appearing beside you and placing a heavy hand on your shoulder, “I think you owe us an apology.”

You scoffed, “I don’t owe you anything, Wilson.”

“Actually,” Steve pitched in from his spot on the lounge, “I’d say you owe me some gratitude since I was the one who hired your new boyfriend.”

A shiver ran down your spine at the sound of that word out loud. Though you’d thought it once or twice, you hadn’t yet heard it spoken aloud and something about it made your insides knot.

“Don’t say that word,” you snapped, “I- we haven’t talked about it yet.”

Natasha’s ears pricked at the sound of discomfort in your voice, and her eyes quickly looked to Bucky. He was slumped beside Steve on the three-seater sofa, his elbow resting on the arm of it as his hand supported his head. He looked as if he was doing his best to sink right into the lounge itself, his lips pressed in a thin line and grey eyes glued to the television screen.

Natasha supressed an evil smile as she turned her attention to you, “What do you mean you haven’t talked about it? You were just saying yesterday how dreamy this guy was.”

Crimson colour blossomed in your cheeks, “Thanks, Nat,” you said, sarcasm dripping from your voice. “All it means is that we haven’t spoken about labels yet, now would you all butt out of my love-life?”

“Love?” Sam exclaimed, much to Natasha’s delight.

She glanced at Bucky, whose jaw was getting significantly tighter.

“Oh, come on!” you huffed as you pushed past Sam, moving toward the sofa where Bucky and Steve were seated.

“You know, Y/N,” Nat said as you situated yourself between the two super soldiers, “if it’s not too early for the L-word then I think you should at least start using the B-word.”

Before anyone else could react or respond, Bucky jumped up from the lounge and practically sprinted toward the kitchen door. Silence enveloped the room, everyone staring at the blazing trail that he left behind.

“Well,” Sam spoke first, trying and failing to conceal his amusement, “I wonder what that was about.”

He and Natasha exchanged a knowing glance before dissolving into giggles.

“You two are cruel,” Wanda said, standing from her seat at the dining table and heading for the elevator.

“Did I miss something?” you asked.

Beside you, Steve shrugged, “Just ignore them, they’re being idiots. Buck has had a hard few weeks and he’s nervous about having to let go of some of the recruits tomorrow.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you were going to have to get rid of anyone.”

“Yeah, some of them just aren’t performing well,” he replied, “but between you and me, Jesse is safe.”

You knew you should have felt relief, but you were too busy worrying about Bucky to even consider the safety of Jesse’s position in the recruitment programme.

“He’s actually performing really well, he’s a very promising recruit,” Steve added.

You blinked yourself out of your own spiralling thoughts, “Who is?”

Nat snorted a laugh from across the living room.

“Jesse is,” Steve said, “your boyf-”

“I told you not to use that word,” you interrupted him, standing from the sofa. “Um, I’m just going to go see if Bucky is okay.”

No one spoke a word as you exited through the same door that Bucky had moments before, and as soon as it swung closed behind you, Steve turned to Nat, “Is there something I should know?”

Her grin was nothing but satisfied, because her evil plan was going exactly as she had hoped.

Natasha wasn’t stupid, in fact, she was the exact opposite. She was an international super-spy with a genius level intellect, specially trained to be able to manipulate people and events in her favour. It would have been stupid for her not to use her expert skills and abilities on you, despite the fact that you were one of her closest friends and fellow avenger.

It all started three weeks ago when you had requested a special night in with both Wanda and Natasha. The girls knew that you were once again needing to vent about your unrequited love for Bucky, but Natasha had decided that it was time she did something to fix her best friend’s broken heart. She knew that Bucky felt the same, and not just because Wanda had told her in complete confidence from once hearing his thoughts, but because the Winter Soldier wasn’t at all good at hiding the way he felt about you. At least, not from Natasha.

She could easily see the way that you both pined for one another, so really, she was doing the two of you – and the whole team – a favour. Jesse’s feelings were just collateral damage, and she only felt a twinge of guilt for using him as a pawn to evoke Bucky’s jealous rage in the hopes that he might finally express his feelings for you.

“Are you insane?” Steve asked once Natasha had finished explaining her scheme, “Bucky is going to kill you if he finds out.”

She shrugged, “Finds out what? That I encouraged my best friend to go on a date with a cute guy? That’s hardly a crime.”

Wanda re-entered the room with her drawing pad tucked under her arm, “Like I said, cruel.”

In the gym, down on the lowest level of the compound, Bucky had changed into his sweats and begun pummelling all of his anger into one of the sparring dummies.

“Careful,” you said, stepping up to the ropes around the elevated sparring ring, “Tony just got us a new one, he’ll be fuming if you destroy this one so soon.”

At the sound of your voice his footing stuttered and he tripped forward, his thick arms wrapping around the dummy in order to stop his whole body from falling to the floor.

“Jeez,” he huffed as he righted himself, “don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“Sorry,” you blushed, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He watched as your nervous eyes searched for anything else to rest upon but him, “Don’t be sorry.”

He cursed himself for being so soft around you and turned back to the dummy before he had the chance to say anything he might regret.

“Are you alright?” you asked him, resting both forearms on the lowest rope.

He landed two expert punches to the torso of the dummy before turning back to you, a bead of sweat escaping his hairline and racing down his sharp cheekbone.

“Of course, why?” he lied.

You shrugged, “Just seem off, that’s all.”

“I’m fine,” he said, “a little tired, but fine.”

Your eyes were wide, silently pleading for him to be honest, but he was too stubborn.

“Okay,” you said, reaching your arm up toward him with your pinkie finger outstretched, “pinkie-promise?”

His whole body felt warm and fuzzy, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He couldn’t resist you, so he crouched down and linked his flesh pinkie finger with yours.

“I pinkie-promise.”

The stupid sound of your fitness watch alerting you about your erratic pulse made you both startle, and the blush returned to your cheeks tenfold.

“What’s that?” Bucky asked.

You retracted your hand and quickly held the watch behind your back, “Just- uh, low battery I think, stupid thing.”

He frowned.

“I should get to bed, anyway,” you said as you backed away from the sparring ring, “I’m glad you’re okay, Bucky, really.”

You spun around and headed quickly for the door, smacking the small screen on your wrist in another lame attempt to get the thing to shut up.

“Hey, Y/N,” Bucky called across the gym, stopping you just before the door.

He wanted to tell you how he missed you. How he missed your smile and your voice, and the way that you would always take his side over Sam’s. He wanted to tell you that the last few weeks have been hell, and that he hated every second that you weren’t by his side. He wanted to tell you how he really felt about you, but he couldn’t.

“Jesse is really great,” he blurted out instead, “he’s a really promising recruit, and I think you two make a great couple.”

You felt as if someone had stuck a pin into the side of your heart, popping it like a balloon.

“Oh, uh, thanks, Buck,” you called back, “I really miss you though.”

Before your watch could identify another alarming elevation in your heartrate, you swung the door open and hurried into the corridor, away from the gym.

Over the next few days, you avoided just about everyone. You were confused about Jesse and still overwhelmed by Bucky, and most of all, you felt as though you were missing out on some huge inside joke with the rest of the team. You needed space in order to pacify your turbulent thoughts and decide exactly what you wanted to do next.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N?” Wanda said, waving a hand in front of your dazed eyes.

You blinked yourself back to reality, “Sorry, what’d you say?”

“I asked if you were coming to watch the recruits after lunch.”

“Watch them do what?”

She rolled her eyes, “The sparring competition.”

Your confusion only deepened with the crease between your brows.

“Against Natasha and Barnes,” she elaborated, “didn’t Jesse tell you?”

You shook your head, “I haven’t really had much of a chance to see him lately.”

She had to fight the temptation to listen in to your thoughts, “Oh, well, Steve decided that a little friendly competition might boost morale among the recruits after they had to let two of them go last week. They’re going to spar with one another and the four best recruits will get to fight either Bucky or Natasha.”

“Holy shit,” you muttered, “that’s- uh, that’s intense.”

“I suppose it is,” she said, “are you okay?”

You nodded slowly, “Yeah, of course, just a little preoccupied.”

Nearly three hours later you were seated between Wanda and Sam in the first row of the gymnasium’s modest bleachers. Tony had them built in beside the sparring ring for occasions such as this, or for watching Natasha kick Rogers’ ass as he often liked to remind everyone.

The eleventh match was almost over, which meant there were only five more until four of the recruits would have to fight Bucky or Natasha. They were quick rounds, hardly lasting any longer than five minutes each, and with every winner that Steve called you could feel your palms getting sweatier and sweatier.

“For your sake, I hope Jesse gets Romanoff,” the burly recruit sitting behind you said, he had already won his first two matches and you had no doubt he would be one of the four winners.

“What do you mean?” you asked, turning in your seat to look at him.

“Jesse’s one of the best fighters, I don’t doubt he’ll be one of the top four, but Barnes will snap him in half if he gets the chance,” the man replied.

Sam’s attention was piqued now, and he too turned around, “What the hell are you talking about, man? This is just a friendly competition.”

This time, the recruit frowned, “I know that, but Barnes hates Jesse, he’s always had it out for him and don’t think he’ll be very friendly if he’s given the chance to fight the kid.”

You turned to Sam, watching his face morph slowly into realisation.

“Wait,” you said, “I’m still confused. Bucky doesn’t hate Jesse, he told me himself that he thinks he’s a great recruit.”

The burly recruit looked from you to Sam, and then back to you as he slowly raised both hands in mock surrender.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, “but this conversation is definitely above my paygrade.”

Sam turned back to face the sparring ring, obviously ignoring your confused and urgent eyes.

“Sam,” you poked his bicep, “What the fuck is going on?”

He shrugged, “I don’t know, I just-”

“Next match is Jesse versus Angelina,” Steve announced, interrupting Sam, “and if Jesse wins this match, he will be the first of our final four!”

The small group of recruits, agents, avengers, and friends of avengers cheered, but you were all too confused to even muster a clap. Steve then announced that the match would begin in five minutes, so you took your chance and hurried over to where Jesse was stretching beside the ring.

“Hey,” you said, “how are you feeling?”

“Hey!” he exclaimed, excitedly planting a sloppy kiss on your lips, “I feel great, I’ve got this in the bag.”

You resisted the urge to wipe your lips on the back of your sweater sleeve.

“Oh, really? I mean, you’re incredible but these other recruits are pretty tough.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “not really, they’re all fairly amateur but these rounds are just a warm-up.”

“A warm-up for what?”

“Barnes,” he replied, his gaze locked on something across the ring.

You glanced over to see Tony helping Bucky try on a few different gloves, each of them made from a variety of soft materials and reaching up his forearm and above his elbow.

Jesse sniggered, “Those gloves are a waste of time, he won’t get a chance to land one on me.”

“Are you serious?” you scoffed, “Jesse, he is a genetically enhanced, special-ops, super spy. He could kill almost everyone in this room without even breaking a sweat.”

“Almost everyone,” Jesse echoed, “you’re right, but not me. Don’t worry babe, I’ve been waiting for a chance to show Barnes who’s boss ever since recruitment day.”

You were utterly speechless, anchored to the ground by overwhelming disbelief of what you had just heard. You hardly even noticed when Jesse kissed your lips once more before Steve called him into the ring.

Slowly, you moved back to your seat between Wanda and Sam.

“Are you okay?” Wanda asked, a gentle finger hooking beneath your chin to close your open mouth.

You were in shock, “That kid is an idiot.”

“I could have told you that,” Sam said, “he’s too cocky, always pushing back and refusing orders. We only keep him around because he’s shown some real skill, and because of you.”

“What?” you snapped, “Why the fuck didn’t anyone tell me?”

He shrugged yet again, “Barnes asked us not to, said that if you liked him then he must be a good guy deep down.”

You glared at him accusingly before whipping around to Wanda, “Did you know this?!”

She smiled sheepishly, “Yes and no.”

“Ugh,” you groaned loudly, “why the hell is everyone being so damn cryptic lately?!”

Steve’s voice once again echoed around the gym, announcing Jesse as the winner and the first of the four finalists.

The next few rounds happened faster than you could keep up with. Every time the bell rang to signal the beginning of a match, you fell back into the spiralling pool of thoughts in your head. You wanted to find answers for all the questions you had but there was something that you didn’t know, a piece of information that you needed in order to finish the puzzle you so desperately wanted to solve.

“Oh, my god,” Wanda said, bringing you back to reality, “this isn’t going to end well.”

“What happened?”

“Jesse is going to verse Barnes,” Sam replied, trying terribly to hide the amusement in his tone.

“Is Bucky really going to kill him?” you asked.

“He’s thinking about it,” Wanda said.

Everyone cheered as Natasha was the first to fight the burly recruit from before. She had him in a headlock within seconds, but he certainly didn’t seem too bummed about being trapped between her thighs.

The next match was a muscly female recruit against Bucky, who was inhibited by a silicone glove covering his bionic arm. She was incredible, and seemed to actually give him a run for his money until Steve rang the three-minute bell and Bucky pinned her to the floor. He had obviously been going easy on her, only putting a fraction of his power into every move for the fear of actually injuring her.

After the rest of the recruits celebrated the length of time that their comrade had managed to stay in the ring with the Winter Soldier, it was time for Natasha’s second duel. She was up against a petite but lean female recruit who only had half a head of inky black hair that was braided tightly to her scalp. The fight was dynamic and entertaining to watch, even Natasha seemed to be enjoying herself with the skilled young recruit, but after five minutes passed Nat won the round.

It was nice to watch all the young recruits celebrate with each other. They were all huddled together, chatting excitedly about how great this competition was and how amazing both Nat and Bucky were. They were genuinely happy for one another and they were starting to act like a real team, all but one of them.

Jesse was back in his spot beside the ring, sitting cross-legged on the floor with his hands on his knees, palms facing up.

“Is he meditating?” Sam said, taking the words right out of your mouth.

“Not really,” Wanda answered him, her eyes trained on Jesse, “he’s a bit nervous, but he’s hoping that everyone is looking at him and thinking he’s really cool. He also can’t wait for victory sex tonight.”

Your stomach lurched, threatening to send your lunch back up your oesophagus, “Gross.”

The moment Steve stepped into the middle of the ring, the gym went silent, as if everyone was waiting for this fight.

“I can’t wait to see Barnes destroy him,” a voice from somewhere behind you said, “the weasel deserves it.”

“He shouldn’t even be given this chance,” another voice joined in, “it’s an honour to be in one of these matches and Jesse’s just an arrogant prick. I can’t believe he wasn’t kicked out of the programme last week.”

Steve rang the bell and the match began.

Bucky was still wearing his silicone glove so he didn’t accidentally kill his opponent, though you almost wished that he had taken it off this time.

Jesse wore a stupid smirk as he danced on his toes around the ring. Bucky had to use all of his strength not to knock the idiot out in one punch, but it was becoming increasingly difficult the longer he had to wait for the first swing.

“I know your technique, Barnes,” Jesse said, only loud enough for Bucky to hear.

Bucky just rolled his eyes, “This is a sparring match, Jesse, just shut up and throw a punch.”

“Why would I do something that you’re expecting me to-”

Bucky swung a soft fist into Jesse’s torso, knocking the wind out of him and earning a cheer from the crowd.

“Big mistake,” Jesse spluttered as he tried to regain composure.

Bucky just rolled his eyes before fluidly ducking Jesse’s first swing, and then the second and the third.

“Stop thinking about how you look while you’re fighting and focus on technique,” he said as he resisted the urge to finish the match right then and there.

“Don’t tell me what to do!”

Jesse’s swings became sloppy and Bucky was easily dodging every attack. The crowd were cheering and even Steve had to fight the small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

As Bucky moved around the ring, guiding Jesse whichever way he pleased, he searched for you. He knew it was silly, but he wanted to know if you were watching, he wanted to see if you were worried about Jesse or if you were watching for him.

The moment he found you, his heart began to race. Of course, it was already a little worked up from dodging Jesse’s careless fists, but the effect that you had was so immense it made him a little dizzy. Then he saw the corner of your pink lips quirk upwards ever so slightly and for a split second, he lost focus.

Jesse’s fist collided with Bucky’s jaw, drawing a gasp from the crowd as Bucky stumbled on his feet.

“That’s what you get for looking at my girl,” Jesse sneered.

Bucky glanced at you, worry now consuming your perfect features.

Jesse too glanced back, evoking a flicker of rage across your face before he turned back to Bucky and really put the final nail in his coffin, “I just can’t wait to fuck her tonight after I win this stupid competition.”

Wanda gasped, “Holy shit.”

“What?” you demanded.

“Oh, no,” Sam muttered.

In the time it had taken you to turn to Wanda and turn back to the ring, Bucky had begun beating the life out of Jesse and Steve was running into the ring to stop the fight.

You leapt off your seat as your watch, yet again, began beeping obnoxiously to alert you that your pulse was beating dangerously fast.

By the time you reached the side of the ring, Steve and Tony had pulled the pair apart. Bucky climbed out of the ring as Steve carried Jesse off to the infirmary. The recruits were cheering for Bucky, chattering animatedly about the events that had just transpired.

“Bucky!” you exclaimed, “Are you okay?”

The pure uncontrollable anger in his eyes melted away the moment they met yours.

“Hey, yeah, I’m fine,” he said, finding a towel to dab at his split lip.

You raised your brows, “The last time you said that to me you were lying.”

He couldn’t help the silly smile that you brought to his lips, “I’m sorry, and I’m sorry that I broke the sacred vow of a pinkie promise.”

“It’s okay, as long as you’re okay.”

For a moment you simply stared at each other, hearts thrumming and palms sweating until painful realisation shot Bucky through the chest.

“Well, uh, you should probably go check on your boyf-”

“Please don’t,” you cut him off, softly bringing your hands up to his jaw, “that idiot is not my boyfriend, I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Oh, you don’t?” Bucky whispered, his voice failing him as you overwhelmed his senses.

You shook your head, “No, I have a Bucky.”

That was all he needed to close the distance between your lips, pressing his body against yours as if you were the only thing keeping him tethered to this earth.

You never wanted to part from him, not for anyone or anything, not even for air but the sudden chirping of your fitness watch made the two of you startle.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you sighed.

Bucky chuckled, “What the hell is that noise?”

You laughed too, “It’s my Bucky-radar actually, because whenever there’s a Bucky nearby it beeps like crazy because my pulse starts going a hundred miles a minute.”

“Is that so?” his smirk almost made your knees buckle, “Should we test this thing out then, see how fast your heart has to race before it breaks?”

You hooked your arms around his neck, the watch still chirping, “And how exactly do you suggest we do that?”

He pressed another breathtaking kiss to your lips, stealing every coherent thought in your head.

“Oh, I’ve got a list.”

END.

[fumingspice]

kiss me hard before you go

Pairing: Billie Dean Howard x Reader

Angst because someone (not naming any names) *cough* @lilypadscoven is too happy to write angst. Such a strange excuse, i know. Like whose even happy anymore? That’s so 2014, Freya.

Warning: Angsty as shit! I think. Idk im usually a happy person. Mentions of cheating, mentions of smut etc. 

Requests are open!

taglist: @sarahp-stan @jumpoffabridge-t @sarahpaulsonsoftie @definitelynot-a-writer @bottom4delia @delias-bitch-craft @creepingwolfberry @thesapphictimelady @goodeday2u @that-fucking-error @saucy-sapphic @sarahp-stan @winters-witch-bitch @rainbow-hedgehog @pearplate​

You frowned to yourself, flicking through the endless posts on Instagram. It was some godforsaken hour in the morning and no matter how hard you tried or how deeply you tried to ease your restless mind you could not fall asleep. You scrolled on social media endlessly. 

God, what time could it even be? 04.27.

You gave a defeated chuckle. Even time was in on the universe’s cruel joke. She exited Instagram and went to messages. You couldn’t count the number of unsent messages and thrown out speeches you had started and couldn’t bring yourself to finish.

Billie Dean Howard.

The contact had found itself hidden deep in the archives of old messages. You hadn’t contacted her since December when you had walked away. 

Walking away was better that being the one left behind, or so you had tried so hard to tell yourself. In hindsight, the truth was that Billie Dean was going to end up leaving you anyway. Was it courage of conviction or just the simple knowledge that you couldn’t live knowing that the only person you had ever opened your heart to was going to leave you?

What was the last thing she said anyway?

Goodnight :(.

Always with those stupid text faces. Those stupid, adorable text faces. How did she have such a powerful effect on you that you could see Billie’s face in a colon and a bracket? Why hadn’t you blocked her yet? What was left to hold onto other than movie-like memories that had slipped away like the changing of seasons.

You slipped from beneath the covers, Your hair tickled Your shoulders. There was no one beside you for you to reach for in your infinite loneliness anyway. It wasn’t infinite. Why did it feel infinite? Why did you allow one person to waltz into your heart and make you home there? You reached for an unopened bottle of wine and paused. Billie had left this bottle there. You never drank unless it was around Billie. 

“Dom Perignon,” Billie told you. You were never interested in the details of fine wine. All you knew was that the older it was the more people liked it.

“Isn’t that expensive?” The brunette asked, reading the label.

 Billie nodded with a throaty chuckle. “Only the best for my girl. I thought I would save it for a special occasion.”

A special occasion. You chuckled in spite. The occasion in question was supposed Billie’s birthday. A party with many guests. One too many. The house was brimming with sets of both of your friends. You could recall reaching for the same wine all too well before being stopped by your friend’s girlfriend. Erin took you by the wrist and guided you out to the garden. 

“No one’s out here,” you protested. Erin’s face was almost forlorn. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

Sorry for what? You snapped out of your confusion. You could see the side of Billie’s body. Pressed against the wall beneath someone else. The anxiety had somehow eased when you watched Billie kiss another, fading into nothing because you knew that there was quite literally nothing that could get even worse than what you were watching.

You pursed her lips. When you imagined these moments, you had always imagined screaming bloody murder. You imagined punching and yelling. You couldn’t move. No tears. Hell, you couldn’t even feel. Erin grabbed your arm and trailed you back, but not before the sight of you, heartbroken in a red dress. had registered in Billie. She barely had time to pull away from her kiss and have the shock of what she was actually doing register. 

It was always a red dress. Red dresses end up in heartbreak. A goddamn blaze in the dark.

Now, you found yourself standing at the window that looked out into the garden. Looking at the spot where you had seen her lover betray every bit of trust that you had. What would have happened if you didn’t see? What if you had seen but Billie didn’t? Would you have said anything? Would Billie have said anything?

It doesn’t matter anyway.

Billie was wine. Aromatic, warm in her stomach. She was a magnificent swirl. She was the impossible to hide stain on your favourite white dress.

Every inch of this house had Billie in its essence. She was inescapable. 

It got even worse when a buzzing noise brought your attention to your phone. “Who the fuck could that be?” you asked yourself. Your heart dropped at the contact.

Billie Dean Howard is calling...

Your world collapsed for a moment as you stared at the phone buzz. Your head told you not to answer, your heart launched for it like a desert oasis. You let it ring a moment too long. You barely managed to blurt out a cracked, “Hello?” when Billie hung up. Presumably giving up.

You bit your lip. Your thumb hovered over the redial button as you fought with yourself. Maybe she’ll call again. That’s a huge maybe. Your finger jolted down unintentionally. Billie picked up on the third ring.

“Y/N?” Her breath hitched. “Y/N, can you hear me?”

You swallowed hard. “I’m here,” you stated flatly, “I can hear you.”

“I didn’t think you’d answer.”

“Honestly,” you replied. You felt no need for warmth. “I don’t think I meant to.”

“Oh. Uhm, how- how are you?”

“What do you want, Billie? It’s five in the morning,” You cut off. You could hear Billie’s breath falter a little.

“To be honest, I just wanted to see if you would pick up.”

You shook your head, cursing how well you knew the medium. “Don’t lie to me, Howard.”

Billie chuckled. “How can you tell?”

“You were the medium, but I was the human lie detector.”

“You’re a lawyer with an Irish mother and Scilian father. It would be more shocking if you weren’t one.”

You smiled, before catching yourself in an eyeroll. “Don’t change the subject.”

“I’m in town. I wanted to see you.”

“It’s five in the fucking morning.”

“You’re telling me that I actually woke you up? You were sleeping when I called?”

You bit your lip. “Yes.”

Billie chuckled again. Like it was a fucking game to her. “Well, now who’s lying?”

“What do you want, Billie?” You scoffed.

“I already told you. I want to see you.”

The audacity of the last sentence. The fact that you knew Billie Dean would come whether or not she was invited boiled your blood.

“Why.” It was more of a flat remark than a genuine question. Why. Why now.

Billie was silent for a moment. “I just want to see your face.”

Your groaned internally, another eyeroll coming into play. You scoffed. “You know the address. Find your own way over.”

And she did. The door knocked almost immediately.

You opened the door so quickly that it creaked aggressively.

“You have some fucking nerve. You know that right?” You snapped. The medium’s eyes widened in shock.

“Nice to see you too.”

You stepped aside and ushered her in, cold from the whipping air. Refreshing if you weren’t standing in shorts and a cardigan.

Billie turned around to face her. Tension grew, like insulation keeping everything in. You could choke on all the words you never said. 

“You look beautiful.”

“Je vais te tuer avec mes mains nues et dormir comme un bébé après.”

“I’m flattered.”

You groaned and walked away from her and into the kitchen. You didn’t know if you would slap her, kill her, or kiss her. You were just as prepared to strangle her as you were to fuck her hard on the kitchen floor then and there, kissing every single freckle and mole on her skin. “You have three minutes,” You muttered, pouring yourself a cup of coffee to stop yourself from looking in Billie’s direction. Your heart raced at a thousand miles a second.

“I just dropped in to say hi.”

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

You were unamused. “Is that it? Are you going get out of my life again?”

Billie frowned. “Am I? Y/N, you left me.”

“Because you fucking cheated on me, Billie Dean! What? Did you want me to pretend I didn’t see it? Pretend nothing happened? Do you want me to pretend that you didn’t rebuild my ability to trust people just so you could knock it down yourself?” You shouted. The words were coming out thick and fast now apparently.

“I was so drunk, Y/N,” Billie whimpered, her eyebrows furrowed. She was in genuine pain, you could see the guilt right in her brown eyes.

And you couldn’t give a shit.

“I’ve heard this a hundred times.”

“How many times do I have to say sorry for this?”

You raised your mug to your lips. “You can say it until I’m dead.”

You met the medium’s gaze. Brown eyes waterlogged with tears. Billie dipped her face in her hands. “I don’t know if I can go through with this again.”

You snapped again. “Good,” you said. “Because I’m done.”

“You can’t be serious.”

The pair met, closer than you had in months.

“No matter what stupid, thoughtless, selfish, idiotic, drunken things you said or did. No matter how many times. I have never stopped loving you. I’ve never fallen out of love no matter how many times I told myself I had. I haven’t gone to sleep without imaging your goddamn mouth on my lips and hands on my body and I fucking crave to hate you for it,” you spat, venom on you tongue and tears spilled down your face. “I don’t sleep, Billie. I don’t sleep because I know your arms aren’t there to hold me when I’m still awake at four in the morning. Because I can’t reach across the bed no matter how angry I am at you and feel your hair. I fucking love you goddammit. You threw that away. Not me.”

 Tears streamed down Billie’s face. “I regret what I did every. Single. Fucking. Day. I miss coming home and seeing you writing those stupid fucking reports that I know you hate writing because I know you hate your job. I miss seeing your face when you’ve won a case that has been scratching you for weeks,” she inched forward once more, her hands close to Mallorie’s face. “I miss seeing you reorganising the goddamn silverware every few weeks to keep the Fair Folk happy in the same way I miss seeing the way your mouth curls when you come.”

 You scanned Billie Dean, searching despreately for a bluff, something that would give way to the fact that this was all a lie; a gimmick for a one night stand so that you could just shut her out and go back to hating her. Hating the person you love is so much easier than having your heartbroken again. You couldn’t find that bluff. Even your gut-instinct that panged you when someone lied to you wasn’t alerting anything. Billie’s words were as genuine as her tears and it was killing you to see that Billie loved you. The lawyer had hoped- prayed even- that the medium’s words had been bullshit, sweet nothings that could be whispered into the ear of any lover that had fallen into her bed. But you weren’t just a one time fling that had walked into a casual meet. You had walked into her long-term girlfriend with her tongue down another’s throat. You had stashed that little red box with a diamond engagement ring inside even further into the closet that night, and that’s what had hurt you.

A raw truth in her words soaked into you. Refreshed you. They were the words that the ocean screamed back at you when you stood on the cliffside begging for a reason to go on.

And so you gave in. Almost, at least. You stepped forward into Billie and allowed her storm to engulf you. There was no calm here. There was a raging appetite for destruction and creation. What was that lyric? A tornado has met a volcano. Her lips ravaged yours to the point of being rubbed raw, the type of sting that bothered virtually every moment of your waking day, one that went on for days. You bit down on her lips, her tongue, her chin and cheek. Whether in was in spite or the desperation to seek and find every single piece of her that you could was unclear. 

Those fateful memories crept back, and you pushed hard against her chest. Billie’s lips, now red, white and swollen, pressed against yours again, retracting when there was no return.

“I’m sorry,” you lied. “I think there’s a possibility that I don’t love you.”

Billie’s eyes resembled a broken mirror, or maybe the view of a dying star. The thing about dying stars is that they died a very long time ago and you only notice years later. She nodded with a weak smile. “I understand,” she whispered, pressing her head against yours. She picked up her bag and turned to leave.

You stopped her. What on Earth were you doing? Let her leave so you can hate her in peace.

“Kiss me. Before you go,” you pleaded. “Hard.”

Billie shook her head, her face scrunched before throwing her face at you. The force drove you into the counter sending a glorious shock of pain up your back. Billie was doing what you had asked.

“Fuck you,” you pulled away and muttered, as if she had gonr too far in teasing you.

“What did I do?”

You raised your hand and slapped her face, lightly. “Fuck you for proving that I still love you.”

A rush of relief knocked Billie, visibly. She returned to your lips, much more gently this time, as if she were savouring every part of you.

“I told you to kiss me hard,” you whispered, although not necessarily opposed to Billie’s touch.

“I’ll do anything you really want,” she replied.

You paused for a moment. “Anything?”

Billie smiled. “Anything.”

You kissed her once. Soft. Tentatively. “Fuck me. On the table.” 

[megumisbimbo]

Marry the Stars - Chapter 2

series masterlist

Pairing: Levi x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Content: College au, Angst, Fluff, Pining, Eventual Smut

Summary: A fresh semester with new faces and new opportunities. Y/N had just started her job as a professor at Eldia University and was determined to make it the best semester yet. A moody philosophy professor gets in the way of her plans. Will she be able to capture his heart, or will she accidentally win the heart of her student?

taglist: @awkwardangelthings @vinseul @txzierbaby @mitsuluv @oblxvion @fiaficsxo @aotwrites @piscesfairies @rintarouss @shisoaya @ikigaitooru @innrsoul @dancingazaleas @sukunas-lady @x6nji @izukine @luvmegumi @erekami @hoeyadoingbitch

“That profesor of ours is really something huh?” Armin asks. 

Mikasa and Eren stand beside him as they walk to their next class.

“I like her, she seems like she really cares about her students.” Eren answers.

“Yeah like...really cares.”

“Anyways, I’ve scheduled a one on one with her since I’m majoring in her field. Mikasa says. 

“You can do that?!?” 

“Don’t get any ideas Eren.”

“What do you me-” 

“We all see the way you stare at her, it’s not a secret you think she’s hot.” Armin explains.

“Who’s hot?” a voice behind them says.

“Jean? Shouldn’t you be at practice?” Armin asks, looking over at Eren questioningly.

“Yes, but I came looking for Eren. We have a game tomorrow and he’s in the starting lineup. You’ll come watch us right Mikasa?” 

“Don’t I always come to your games?” 

“Yeah but you leave whenever Eren’s off the court.” Jean answers. 

Eren gives Mikasa a confused look. Her eyes shift to the floor, refusing to look at either man.

“We’ll all be there Jean. Now, Mikasa and I have another class and Eren you need to get to practice. We’ll see you guys later.” Armin says, wrapping his arm around Mikasa’s wilted form and dragging her down the hallway. 

————

“Levi can you pass me the sodium chloride?” 

“No.”

“Please? My hands are full.” 

Levi turns and eyes the taller woman who’s carefully holding a burning hot beaker.

“Hurry! This experiment is time sensitive!”

“I’m not even in proper gear Hange. What if it gets on me?” 

“It’s salt Levi!!” 

Levi hurries over to the counter opposite Hange and picks up the container labeled sodium chloride. She instructs him to pour some into a test tube. He follows her directions and rushes away from the scene, eager to get back to his book and far away from Hange’s latest experiment. As much as Levi hates Hange’s antics, he couldn’t help but feel thankful for having a friend like her.

“So are you coming to the meeting today? I heard they’re introducing a new curriculum.” Hange asks.

“I hate those meetings.”

“Yeah well just because we’re friends with the principle, doesn’t mean either of us can skip out.”

“I wouldn’t skip the meetings if anything actually applied to me. We only ever gather to talk about the science departments. The humanities department is almost always overlooked. It’s not Erwin’s fault, the principal can only do so much.” 

“I suppose, but you should still go.” 

“I’ll think about it.”

————

You walk into the room, professors and administrative employees mingling around you. You don't seem to recognize anyone, so you take a seat at the back and pull out your phone. You scroll through your emails and notice one from a student with a familiar name.

Hello Professor, 

My name is Mikasa Ackerman, we met the other day. As you know, I’m an anthropology major, and I was hoping I could meet with you sometime to discuss matters related to my major and classes and universities you would recommend. Thank you so much.

Mikasa Ackerman. 

Mikasa...I recognize that name, but I can’t remember her face...Anyways I’ll respond when I get back home.  

“Excuse me, is this seat taken?” A tall woman with glasses asks you. 

“No, it’s not.” You respond, giving her a bright smile. You turn your attention back to your phone, reading over a few more administrative emails. She happily sits down in the seat next to you and turns her head to look you over. Your head turns in her direction once again, this time giving her a confused look.

“Um…do you need something ma’am?” 

“Huh? Oh no- sorry was I staring?”

You nod sheepishly, a small giggle leaving your lips. Her attention turns to the front of the room and she waves her hands frantically in the direction of another man. Oh it’s the same guy I bumped into. 

“Levi!! Over here!! I saved you a seat!” 

The man hurries over and slaps a hand onto the woman’s mouth. 

“Hange would you quit yelling?!” 

“Sorry.” She answers, barely audible due to the hand currently smothering her.

You observe the pair, trying hard not to be caught noticeably staring. Would be weird considering I just called her out for staring at me. 

The shorter man takes a seat as a blonde man takes the stage. This is Erwin, the principle of Eldia University, aka, the guy who interviewed you. 

“Thank you all for coming today, this meeting will be brief and it will cover the new material for the humanities courses.”

“See Levi, this is why you shouldn’t skip the meetings.” Hange whispers.

“Well this is a first..” Levi responds, pulling out the IPad he uses for work.

“Oh ho ho look who’s getting all excited now.” Hange says, nudging Levi in the shoulder 

“Shut up four eyes.” 

Your ears perk up as well. You had put in a request for a field trip to the National Museum of Anthropology and were eagerly waiting for a response. You planned on assigning them a report about their time and experience at the museum, rather than have them regurgitate all the information you taught that semester.

“In regards to the anthropology museum trip submitted by Miss y/n, it has been approved.” Erwin says, glancing in your direction.

You smile and bow your head, silently thanking him. Levi follows Erwin’s eyes and finds that you’re the one he’s talking about. So you’re the new anthropology professor, the one Zeke was talking about. Zeke was the head of the humanities department as well as an economics professor. Levi didn’t particularly like him or how much of a flirt he can be with the ladies in their department. He definitely couldn’t understand why the board made Zeke the head of the department and not him, but he knew it wasn’t his place to complain about the decision, and he didn’t want to put Erwin in a bad situation. Both you and Levi listened intently to the words Erwin  spoke and after about half an hour, the meeting was over.

“That’s all for today, thank you everyone. Also, please make our new staff feel welcomed.” Erwin says, ending the meeting. You gather your things and make your way to the door as friendly faces smile in your direction. A tall figure stepping in front of you halts your movements, your eyes landing on a scruffy looking older man. Definitely not my type. 

“Hello Miss y/n, I’m Zeke Jaeger head of humanities.” The man says lightly grabbing your hand and placing a kiss on your knuckles. You awkwardly slide your hand out of his grasp and discreetly rub the unwelcomed kiss on your pants. 

“Nice to meet you Mr. Jaeger. I should get going. I'm late for an appointment.” 

You brush past him and hastily walk to your imaginary appointment. As you reach the door, you feel someone tap you on the shoulder. It better not be him again. You turn and see the woman you were sitting next to earlier and next to her, the man you’ve successfully pissed off twice.  

“Hi! you dropped this.” The woman says handing you a notebook. 

“Oh..um... that’s not mine.”

“I know, it’s mine, but I needed a reason to talk to you and this was the only thing I could think of.”

You giggle, receiving a bright smile from the woman.

“My name is Hange, Hange Zoe, and I’m a chemistry professor. If I’m being honest, I just wanted to introduce myself so I could ask if you wanted to join us for drinks tonight at 7.” She tilts her head towards the shorter man who sports an award winning scowl. 

“This is Levi Ackerman, and he teaches-”

“I can introduce myself Hange, anyways we’ve met before.”

“Oh you have?” 

“We haven’t spoken to each other but I have run into him before...literally. So what do you teach Mr. Ackerman?” You respond. 

“Philosophy.”

“And he’s damn good at it.” Hange adds.

You smile sweetly at both of them.

“I don’t think I’ll be busy tonight. I’d love to join you for drinks.” 

“Wonderful! We’ll see you at 7 then!”

You nod and finally reach the exit. You couldn’t lie, Levi was handsome. You wouldn’t mind getting a little bit closer to him. Anyways it might be helpful for work, since you both work in the same department. 

Tonight will be...interesting.

[purpleyellow]

Intervention

BTS 8th member

Sunny’s masterlist

“The members finally talk to her about what’s going on”

a/n: Not himym being the only reason that I know what interventions are, anywho, welcome back to sunny’s breakdown ft some special guests . Please let me know what you thought of it, your feedback is always welcome💜

The confusion behind the scenes seemed to be minimal as BTS stepped on stage, allowing the girl to focus on the mental checklist she had made to make sure everything was fine for the performance. 

Fidgeting with the settings of her in-ear, Sunny got brought back to reality as the spotlights turned on and off onto the members. 

She squinted from the lights and said to no one in specific “The middle one isn’t in sync” before lowering her head again and pocketing the mic pack just as a screeching sound broke through the piece “And an interference just happened”

“Geez Sunny, let them do their job” Jin showed up laughing from her side and gave an apologetic smile to some of the staff who shook their heads “This isn’t their first soundcheck, everyone is still fixing up things”

“Yeah, my bad” The girl lowered her shoulders trying to find something else to focus on. Lately having nothing to think about meant going back to thoughts she did not have the energy to face. 

Walking from one side to another, she played with the glitter on the mic as a melody started playing and they were told to go on the marks. It didn’t register on Sunny’s mind if it had lasted five minutes or half an hour, all she knew as that soundcheck was done and they went back to monitor the performance. 

Standing behind Namjoon’s chair, the girl took a sip from her water bottle as they chatted and waited for the images to come in. 

“Did you forget to drink your coffee or something?” Jungkook snickered leaning on her side and also looking at the screens showing the different angles. “You look like you have no soul”

“Because I don’t” Sunny’s monotone caught Taehyung’s attention, who softly slapped her arm and shook his head, mumbling a “Don’t joke like that” and making the two let out an emotionless laugh.

“Okay, I think we’re good” Namjoon thanked the staff, allowing the members to stand up and walk out of the room. Thinking for a second, the leader held Sunny’s arm so they could stay behind “You’ve been out of it a lot lately, we can talk about it for a few minutes”

Shaking her head, the girl kept walking with him by her side “I’m just tired but I’ll make sure it won’t be noticeable on screen and no one is going to get worried, I promise”

“If people are going to notice it or not is something we can deal with after. But I know it’s not just tiredness” He sighed pondering if he should keep going or not “Look, Sehun talked to me-”

“He’s got you worried over nothing,” Sunny stopped walking and looked up at him crossing her arms “Last time we saw each other I said things I shouldn’t have. That’s all”

“You’re not answering his texts and he told me what you said,” Namjoon tilted his head to the side and her gaze shifted to the empty hallway “I’ve always been here to listen to you. It doesn’t have to be today but please let’s talk about whatever is going on”

“Oppa, I-” Sunny sighed and took a deep breath to numb down the feeling of crying “It’s fine. Just a relapse of judgment”

“Having sex with an ex is a relapse of judgment, opening up about-” He said placing a hand on her shoulder but got interrupted by somebody showing up at the end of the hallway. “Unnie?”

“Yunhee, how are you doing?” Sunny smiled softly and skidded away from the boy, who gave the NCT member a small bow before walking down the other way.  

“Sorry if I interrupted you guys” Bee smiled awkwardly and the older girl waved her off, giving her a hug before following a random path “Your outfit looks awesome, it reminds me of an ice princess” She commented after a silence fell upon them.

“Thanks, and you’re looking like a fluffy marshmallow,” Sunny said, making the younger giggle and look down at her pastel pink pair of sweats.

“We’re getting fitted in groups, I should get my outfit after the older members are done with theirs” Both of them nodded with the explanation and Sunny looked at the side to check out the three doors labeled NCT. On the other side of the hallway, she read Taemin’s name in one of them and the following one made her flight or fight senses come into play.

“Well, now that you’re here, I should go back to get retouches” She smiled, the nervousness barely being recognized in her voice.

“I was going to get something on catering, but I understand if you don’t want to come” Bee nodded clasping her hands together.

“Oh, yeah. I think I should go back though” 

“Look who’s here” Baekhyun’s cheerful voice came from the door she was dreading and, turning around, Sunny saw him and Taehyung standing next to each other in the hallway “It’s been a while Sunny-ah. How are you doing?”

Giving him a smile despite not wanting to, Sunny nodded picking at the lining on her shorts “I’m fine, how are things going for you? Is… Sehun okay?”

“I think so for the most part, you haven’t talked to him yet?” He frowned, showing how part of things he was and Sunny once again nodded, averting her eyes and making the three idols frown at each other.

“Uh, I think I should go inside” Bee shifted awkwardly on her feet, bowing to the two males and looking almost hopefully at Sunny, who didn’t have the heart to ignore her and gave her a quick hug, mumbling an “I’ll text you later”.

“I'll be going too” The BTS girl pointed over her shoulder and went to turn around before getting stopped by her own groupmate. 

“You and Sehun aren’t on good terms?” V frowned giving her a side hug that felt oddly suffocating. 

“Taehyungie, you’re really out of the loop. They had a fight like two months ago, I thought it was settled by now” Baekhyun crossed his arms seemingly worried “Do you need me to knock some sense into him?”

“No, he’s fine. I’m- I don’t know” Sunny sighed her voice dropping a little before she looked up at Taehyung pleading “Can I please go away now?”

“Is everything okay?” He frowned again running a hand on her back but she pushed it away, finally breathing properly “Sun, do you need anything?”

“I need to get to hair and makeup, then make sure the in-ears are on the right volume before going on stage and performing well enough so I can go home and sleep,” She said it all under a breath and looked up to find the two men staring at her with raised eyebrows. “Can I please go to the dressing room?”

“You should take a rest” Baekhyun nodded going back to his room and giving her a knowing smile “It’s not worth going through all of that so people think you’re doing fine” 

“I am fine” Sunny gasped after he closed the door. Turning around in her heels, she couldn’t help but roll her eyes at V, who walked faster and blocked her path.

“You don’t have to insist on that so much. We’ve all seen how you’re acting lately, at least let us be there for you” Holding her shoulders in place, Taehyung tried to keep his tone down in order not to catch attention. Yet, the way he spoke gave her a burning sensation around her eyes. 

Blinking aimlessly and shaking her head, Sunny bumped shoulders with him as she marched towards the dressing room. Making a straight line towards the makeup chair once she was inside of it without sparing a glance at the other boys.

“We’ll start the recording in two hours,” Namjoon said looking up from his phone and she nodded, closing her eyes for a second so the makeup artist could do her magic and opening them again after she was done.

Looking at herself in the mirror, the logical part of her brain recognized the reflection was indeed her own, yet a little voice insisted on the uncomfortable feeling of dissociation. 

Again, time passed without her even noticing what was going on. By the time the members were being escorted back into the vans, Sunny couldn’t remember if she had looked into the camera at the right times, if she had made the right facial expressions, or even bowed when the boys did. Though, after years of experience, she trusted her autopilot to do all of those things without her acknowledgment.

“Oppa?” The girl squinted once they entered the dorms to find Suga sitting on the couch “I thought you were staying at your apartment” Sharing looks, the members slowly made their ways towards the couch as well, J-hope sitting on the smaller one and leaving a space on the side empty “What’s going on?”

“We’re doing an intervention,” Jin crossed his arms, nodding to the seat for her to get comfortable in.

Sighing, she dragged herself next to Hobi and dropped her body there. Looking at the ceiling while Namjoon, Jimin, and occasionally somebody else went on about how she needed to tell them what was going on.

“I’m sorry I worried all of you” She mumbled interrupting them and J-Hope held her hand, running his thumb in the back of it.

“We’re only worried because we don’t know what’s going on” Yoongi affirmed from the other end of the couch “Something has changed in these past few weeks, we just want to understand it better so you don’t have to go through it alone”

Silence fell upon them again as she chewed on her bottom lip, feeling like a disappointment for not having a good reason for the emotions she had been having “Nothing happened”

“Sunny, no one is going to judge you” Taehyung started making her shake her head.

“I mean it. There’s nothing logic that explains why everything is so blank nowadays. I can’t get excited anymore, it’s so frustrating because every time we perform or do anything at all feels like nothing” The girl began catching all of their attention. Toying with the lining on her shorts, she tried her best to keep her eyes dry.

“And I honestly didn’t want to get anyone worried because it’s all going to blow out of proportion and just thinking about it makes me want to lock myself in my room and just sleep because I know it’s not real. Everything is just in my head and I’m so tired of it.”

Namjoon’s voice interrupted her thinking as he felt she was reaching her breaking point “Just because it’s in your mind it doesn’t mean it’s not real. Every thought you have and everything you feel is authentic, sometimes you just need to organize them or get someone to help them make sense”

“I don’t want to drag anyone into this” Shaking her head Sunny sniffed making the boys share sad looks.

“But you want it to go away, don’t you?” The question came from Jin who leaned forward, looking carefully enough to notice her small nod. “I know you’re feeling like you’re going to disappoint people by asking for help. But the truth is we live as a society. You don’t have to face anything alone and we were all put into this world to help each other”

“I know it might be a big step, but later you can consider getting more professional help” Namjoon tested the waters to see how she would react to it. At Sunny’s eyes filling with tears, he slowly went back “I don’t mean it tomorrow, just talking to us is an amazing start”

“There’s only an amount of things the seven of us can say to you to help you go through this. But we’re always open to listen when you feel like it’s getting too much” Jungkook nodded giving her a thumbs up to which Sunny replied with a snort and a roll of eyes.

“Do you feel a little better?” Jimin sneakily asked and she nodded taking a deep breath.

“I still want to sleep though '' Making them laugh, Sunny rested her head on J-Hope’s shoulder and watched them nodding understanding at her. 

“One day at a time. And together, not alone” Taehyung said getting up and giving her a good night hug. One by one the members started going to their rooms to get ready for bed. And for that night, Sunny slept a little more relieved than she had before.

[camthesolemnone]

Hi, I have like, 4 more ideas that came to me while I was at work, so #1: horror movie. Medic and Heacy are in their cottage, and have just watched a horror movie of some kind before they go to bed, right? Yeah. BUT! As they get ready, something odd happens that sets them both on edge (turns out it's just one of the birds or something) but they end up scarred and not wanting to go to sleep

I changed this one a bit but the main idea remains in-tact. I’m sorry that this took so long to get out and that the ending is kinda shitty. I’m working on the other prompts you sent me alongside this one! Also, I don’t know if you saw the pinned message or not but requests are now closed, so please hold off on sending any more.

"Is leetle Scout asleep as well?" Heavy asked, sitting comfortably on the rec room couch.

Medic nodded and reached for the VHS tape sitting on the glass table in the middle of the room. A tiny smile graced the Russian's features.

"Is good, we have television all to our selves!"

"Ja, and don't expect to sleep tonight, Mikhail! Herr Engineer told me that this is one of the scariest movies he’s ever seen," Ludwig replied, holding up the tape for his partner to see.

Written across the label in black sharpie was the simple word, 'Halloween.' The label should have been difficult to read in the dark, but the Russian noticed how it almost seemed to radiate a burgundy light...must have been some crazy glow-in-the-dark marker Engineer had invented, he concluded. Heavy crossed his arms triumphantly and laughed.

"Do not count on it, Doktor! Heavy is not phased by baby horror films!”

“Oh, we’ll see about that!”

A moment of time was spent struggling to find out which remote went to which device, but eventually, the pair got the movie inside the VHS player and smiled excitedly as color flooded the screen. Ludwig left the room briefly to make popcorn and plopped down on the couch next to his lover to click “Play” on the title screen upon his return.

“If Doktor gets scared, you can hold onto me~” Mikhail teased, and Ludwig shoved his shoulder.

“Are you sure you’re 45 years old, liebe? Because right now, you sound like a lovestruck teenager!” The doctor shot, handing him the popcorn bowl.

“Well...” Heavy began, settling a massive arm around Medic’s shoulders, “One part of that statement is correct.”

.

Unsurprisingly, Heavy was correct about being immune to the movie’s horrors. Then again, Medic was also not affected by the film, so they took more pleasure in the plot and the acting then the actual scary moments. 

Of course, Ludwig grew giddy when gore was involved.

“Hohoho! Look at all of that blood! If I was the killer in this scenario, I would collect it for future use,” he commented.

Heavy raised a questioning eyebrow and attempted to distract himself with the popcorn, but he soon came to the realization that there was nothing left but kernels. His German companion took to removing the bucket from his grasp and standing up.

“I need to use the bathroom, so I’ll take this back on the way,” the doctor stated, and the heavy weapons specialist nodded in response.

Mikhail was left all alone with the intensifying film in the dimly lit room. He would never admit it, but now that Ludwig was gone, he felt smaller. It wasn’t a feeling of fear but of slight unease; things would likely be alright for Heavy, but there was always a shred of uncertainty.

As time passed and the movie reached its climax, Heavy became more and more enthralled with the action, to the point where he forgot about Medic’s absence. His eyes were fixated on the glowing screen, his hands gripped tightly at the wool blanket surrounding him. Mikhail fell deep into the world of gruesome fantasy, and as a consequence, he nearly shot out of his seat at the sound of rapid footsteps and whisper-shouting coming from down the hall.

“Heavy! Oi, big guy!” Demoman said, urgency in his tone.

The Russian let his blanket drop to the floor and stared at the demolitions expert with confusion and anxiousness. The Scot all but captured his arm with both of his own and began dragging him down the hall as best as he could.

“Slow down, Tavish. What is this about?” Mikhail asked.

Demo turned his gaze back to his teammate.

“The Doc ‘s dead in the cludgie!”

Heavy’s eyes widened with shock, emotional pain, and fury towards whoever had committed such an act. Sure, Medic would respawn, but whoever had laid a finger on his beloved doctor was in for a beatdown. Unless it was an accident, in which case Mikhail would scold the German about being reckless.

The pair burst through the door to the community showers and the Russian nearly gasped at the sight. Ludwig laid unmoving in the center of the room with blood staining the front of his lab coat and the ground surrounding him. There was no weapon to be found, but in the corner of the room, with his back towards the door, sat a curled up, trembling, mumbling Scout.

Mikhail’s first thought was that Jeremy had committed this grisly murder, but Tavish put a hand out in front of his chest before he could progress. The Russian opted for whispering Medic’s name as a substitute.

“Scout! What the hell happened here!” Demo cried.

The young runner didn’t reply. He continued to rock back and forth, murmuring and wrapping his arms around himself. The Scot approached him cautiously, taking a calm, more concerned approach. Heavy followed.

“Aye, are you alright, mate?”

Demo reached out to put a hand on Scout’s shoulder, and a series of rapid events unfolded.

Scout’s entire body whipped around and stood up, and the Bostonian let out a high pitched, almost demonic screech. In his left hand was a knife stained in blood, Medic’s blood, and Heavy and Demo exhibited two very different reactions.

Demoman yelped and jumped back, going into flight mode. The massive Russian on the other hand, fearful for the lives of himself and his friend, took a strong step forward and lashed out at Jeremy’s face. One square punch to the jaw was enough to send the man flying across the communal bathroom and into the wall. He slumped over after the hit, out cold.

“What in the-! It was almost like that boy was possessed!” Demo shouted.

When Mikhail and Tavish’s hurried breathing finally began to slow, a new sound rang throughout the room: laughter.

Medic was rolling on the floor alive and well, laughing his ass off and further soiling his labcoat. Heavy gasped out a “Doktor!” at the man’s sudden revival while Demoman stood frozen.

“Hahaha! I can’t believe it! I just thought I’d have a bit of fun scaring you, liebe, but watching you knock out Scout was far more amusing!” The doctor exclaimed, rolling on his stomach and propping himself up on his elbows like a teenage girl lying on her bed while talking to a friend over the phone.

Demoman was the first to flare up.

“What?! So you’re saying this was all a prank?! You’re sick in the head, Medic!”

The Scot was tempted to slap him silly, but with Heavy in the room, that clearly wasn’t an option. With another frustrated grunt, he stomped off and back to bed.

Now it was Heavy’s turn.

“That was not funny, Ludwig! Heavy thought you were dead!” He scowled.

The doctor hauled himself off the ground and stood up straight, wiping some of the fake(?) blood on his hands off onto his lab coat.

“What’s there to worry about? Even if I had been stabbed, I would have just respawned, Mikhail.”

“I know, but...”

Medic’s expression dropped. His love had one massive paw gripping his opposite forearm and his face was distraught. He looked smaller, scared almost, and a tiny crack situated itself in the German’s heart. If he had known such an act would hurt Heavy so deeply, he wouldn’t have even thought about going through with it. There was also the issue of Scout. Ludwig relished the sight of the cocky, annoying Boston boy being beat up, but for once, he regretted roping him into his plans. The runner had been all too willing to help him with the scare, and Medic repaid him with his bear’s violence.

He sighed and shook his head at himself internally. Yes, his prank hadn’t been very rational, he concluded.

With slow, apologetic steps, Medic approached his partner and wrapped his arms around him gently, rubbing his broad back with one hand.

“Es tut mir leid, Heavy. This was all very foolish of me,” he admitted.

Heavy returned the embrace and buried his nose into his doctor’s hair, which smelled of blood and autumn leaves.

“You know it is because I do not like seeing you hurt, moya lyubov. Every time evil Spy kills you on battlefield, my blood boils. Would sacrifice myself a million times to keep you safe,” he murmured, and Ludwig’s heart cracked a little more.

His arms tightened around the giant with increased guilt. It pained him profoundly to see Mikhail die too.

 “I love you, Heavy. From the bottom of my soul, I am truly sorry.”

The Russian moved one hand from the smaller man’s waist to cup his cheek protectively.

“I love you too, Doktor, but please, do not play with death. Someday, we will not get another life.”

.

The credits of the movie had long concluded by the time the two of them returned to the rec room. Medic was rather disappointed that he had missed the latter half of the film, but what made up for it was a soft kiss to his forehead and a set of teasing words given to him by his lover before being sent off to sleep.

���Next time, we watch psychological thriller, da? Less gore will give you less dangerous ideas,” Mikhail suggested, patting a hand on Ludwig’s shoulder.

The doctor laughed and gave him a sly smile that warded off his fears, allowed him to breathe normally again. He was still alive.

“I like the sound of that, but you’re making the popcorn!”

[fluffnstuffq]

Quick question, as someone who has been in the otherkin community for a while and understands the seriousness of it, as well as having kins myself, would it be wrong to also indulge in the 'kin for funsies' trend? For example, I'm not a fictionkin, but I identify with imps and fae and have so strongly since being very young (I'm 23 now, 7 when I initially awakened), but I also think it would be harmless and fun to have a kinsona of a character I relate deeply to. Is that bad?

I... sort of think you’re missing the point here.

Tl;dr - People put way too much energy into finding ten thousand ways to justify what they know is hurting the otherkin community. That energy would be much better spent guiding “kinnies” to different terms.

If you’re in the otherkin community and understand how serious, personal, and integral a kintype can be to someone’s identity... I’m sure you also see the damage that the “kin for fun” trend has wrought upon the community.

I honestly just.. don’t understand what the allure of the word “kin” is. If one knows it doesn’t belong to them, why fight so hard to claim it?

“Kinsona”. What is that, really, in this case? Just a sona, or a copinglink, right? It’s just the word “sona” with “kin” slapped onto it.

We all know that a kintype is involuntary, and thus its appearance and traits are involuntary too. It’s not just an avatar to be customized to one’s liking. A kintype’s appearance and identity are not a blank canvas to be customized; it’s not a “sona”. 

I know that some newly awakened, uninformed otherkin use the term “kinsona” to describe their kintype’s appearance and differentiate it from canon/a random nondescript member of the species.

I have seen a few cases in which even more experienced otherkin had a sona of sorts whose species was the same as that of their kintype, whether an animal or fictional. 

But I still feel like the “kinsona” label just lends itself to further confusion.

That term in most cases is just.. at best, a product of misinformation, inexperience, or misinterpretation. At worst, just another symptom of the insidious plague of “kinnies” invading the community and slowly twisting its terms into completely different things.

And while I’d usually be willing to give the benefit of the doubt to someone who uses “kinsona” as a term due to the term’s ambiguity, you specifically stated it here as a “for fun” term/practice. 

So no, it’s not harmless in the slightest. The very word “kin” has been diluted and distorted at this point in the public eye. It’s literally a marketing tactic at this point, seeing as how massive corporations and celebrities are dropping kinlists on twitter dot com for relatability points.

It does not need to be pasted onto every little unrelated thing just so people can feel more special. Being otherkin doesn’t magically make you ten times more interesting, nor does it make you better than anyone else. 

And while it can appear cool and “aesthetic” to be nonhuman/alterhuman/not quite human, there’s tons of hardships that come with it.

For all the decades the otherkin/therian community has been around, it only took a bit under ten years for people to drastically twist what was once a very personal and integral identity into a lifeless, superficial joke.

Is an aesthetic that can easily be labeled as something else really worth someone’s identity and community, someone’s safe haven, being torn to shreds?

That may seem like a bit of an exaggeration, but you’re likely old enough to have watched it happen, depending on how long you’ve been actively in the community.

Between “kin for fun”, antikin, and trolls, the otherkin community is in shambles, and a lot of the people who tore it apart moved on without a care in the world; because it never meant anything more than a joke or a trend to hop on the bandwagon of; it was never an integral part of them, it was never significant or important to them.

It’s gotten to the point where the even very same people who built the otherkin community and created many of the terms, the very same “greymuzzles” who once helped to foster incredible spaces of discussion and introspection, have been driven out of the very spaces they created, either forcibly or out of disgust at how things have become.

And with each person who spreads around “kin for fun” and denounces true otherkinity as “too serious, delusional”, that harmful joke reputation spreads farther. The community dies a little more. The safe haven decades in the making crumbles more, leaving otherkin alienated in their own communities.

So instead of bending over backwards to justify even more “kin for fun” shenanigans, why not put that energy into helping “for fun kinnies” find non-kin alternatives?

Copinglinkers, otherhearted, fiction flickerers, and so many other terms, they’re all valid.

It’s not that hard.

It’s not that hard to respect, even if you can’t understand.

[vanillann]

within the vision (bucky barnes x f.reader)

a/n: i’m going to be naming each chapter based on a sitcom from that time era, cause i can!! also i’m so glad everyone liked the prologue!!

warning: WANDAVISION SPOILERS, swearing, suggestive language, talks of past trauma, AU

word count: 1.9k

within the vision masterlist

Chapter 1: Born Yesterday 

“Do you remember everything we just went over?”

I rolled my eyes, snapping the silver bracelet on my wrist, the little charm would be normal to anyone else but Bucky and I knew the content.

“No, I forgot everything,” I turned to Tony, smiling sarcastically when he frowned.

“We should have given you up for adoption,” Tony titled his head, the tiniest smile on his lips and he played with the technology again.

The room felt packed with people, Tony and Bruce running around the technology, Bucky and I waiting beside two beds that were shoved beside Wanda’s, and Steve and Sam leaned against the wall trying to tell me to stop with this plan.

“We don’t know what could happen,” Steve repeated again, his arms crossed as Tony gave Bucky his bracelet, thicker than mine but still normal enough to not have anyone question it.

We had taken extra steps to ensure our safety as nobody knew exactly where we were going.

“You both need to get out as soon as the mission's over,” Bruce nodded, to both of us. His finger danced across the different screen, Tony and himself were the only ones who understood it.

“I was planning on going on a walk before I came back.” Bruce rolled his eyes, but gave me a hint of a smile. He understood my defense mechanism, one of the few people who never got mad when I couldn’t be completely serious. One plus for anger management classes.

“I regret doing this already,” Bucky spoke under his breath, looking up to Sam who gave a fake thumbs up.

“If it comes down to it, leave Bucky,” he responded, earning a thumbs up from me.

“I hate both of you.”

Bucky and I both laid in our own bed, our combat gear already on as we laid back slightly, Tony taking Bucky's side while Bruce came to mine.

“We’re going to first hook you to this machine to keep track of your vitals,” I said nothing, watching Bruce shove the IV in my arm and playing with the machine a bit to make sure everything was okay.

“Next, on the count of three you’ll press the button on the bracelet. Remember you need to keep your mind focused on Wanda for this to work,” Tony continues with his run on sentence, only stopping once Bucky and I both nodded once.

I felt the chill suddenly run up my body, suddenly nervous to just hind out in my best friend's mind. Especially since she had always been younger than me, I felt weirdly awkward now.

“Are you both sure about this?”

I saw Bucky nodded slightly from the bed beside me, suddenly all eyes on me. I felt myself shift in the bed, avoiding eye contact.

“(Y/N)?”

“I’m fine, I just need a second,” I spoke after Steve, smiling at his worried glares but said nothing else of it.

You were doing this for her own good, you were helping her. This wasn’t you reading her diary after teasing about her crush, this was her turning into herself not knowing we were waiting for her.

“I’m good,” I laid down on the bed, not looking at anyone as my other hand searched for the button. I wasn’t going to mess this up cause I couldn’t find a button.

“Okay, remember to stay safe and think about Wanda.”

I nodded lightly, trying my best to zone in on Wanda while Tony’s count down filled the room.

“One.”

I thought back to young Wanda and Pietro trying to hide my shoes before one of my first dates when I was 14.

“Two.”

Wanda giggling in my room at the compound when Steve went on a manhunt for me because I was late for practice.

“Three.”

I felt my finger smash the button, thinking of Wanda’s face as she held off Thanos with Vision life in her hand. I thought of her tearful face as she gave me one last glance before everything blew up before my body was smashed against the nearby tree.

The weird feeling around me gave me a stomach ache. The feeling of falling when you were about to sleep almost, but my eyes refused to open as the wind rushed past me. I wanted to panic, to pull myself from whatever I walked into, but I simply couldn’t.

I couldn't sense anyone around me, my body was all alone falling and I couldn’t stop it. I was a controlled person, I enjoyed control and suddenly that word didn’t even exist anymore.

Then it stopped, the falling was gone and my eyes were pushed open. My body was moved differently, pushed against something. When I slowly moved around I noticed the slight dusk of the sky.

“(Y/N)?” My name whispered filled the same space I sat in, I looked around trying to get my brain to focus on one thing. I felt something cold against my wrist cause me to jump, pushing harder into the rough back.

I looked down, Bucky's face laid under whatever I was sitting on. I looked up, noticing the windows and the steering wheel slightly ahead of me. I took in the leather under my fingers, seeing there wasn’t a door handle in the back and how low the roof was.

But that didn't worry me, what worried me was I couldn’t make out any other colors besides black, white, and grey. I looked to Bucky, hoping to see the light pale skin on his face but was met with white, almost like a white crayon that had been run in black dust lightly.

“Where the hell are we?”

“Wanda’s head, I thought this was your plan,” Bucky slowly sat up from the floor of the backseat, I had luckily ended up on the actual seat. I looked out, hoping to see the colors of the sky but I was met with the same grey color.

“Can you see color?”

“Can’t say I do,” Bucky rubbed his arm, slowly moving to sit in the same space I had made for him on the seat.

I finally looked around the rest of the area, noticing the row of houses and other such things. The trees and bushes reminded me of the old movie Steve would make us watch, looking like something out of a sitcom.

“What are you wearing?”

I frowned as I looked at Bucky, his eyes held confusion as he looked me up and down once. I looked down at myself, shocked to find myself in a dress, definitely not my combat gear. The material was dark, I couldn’t tell more, and a fake belt was sowed into the thick fabric.

“I haven’t seen one of those in awhile,” Bucky picked up a piece of the dress at the end, rubbing the material between his fingers when I slapped it from his wands. That when I heard it, laughing. Not like you told a funny joke laughing, like a sitcom laugh.

I pointed to Bucky, my eyes wide as I waited for who knew what. When I saw Bucky slowly look up at me from the place he looked at my dress I knew he heard it. That's when I noticed the suit he was wearing, specifically an older looking arm suit. I looked back around the car, spotting the matching hat to the suit on the dash of the car. I didn’t say anything, slowly reaching up to grab it when I saw a door open.

A lady with dark hair and bright smiles walked out, held a hand slightly in the air if she were to hold a cigarette but no smoke came out. She was talking to someone, whoever was in the house. Suddenly I watched the owner lean out slightly, my jaw going slack as I saw Wanda’s bright smile hides behind loopy curls.

“Doll-”

“Don’t call me that,” I spoke softly, doing my best to keep the facade up but I was so shocked, Wanda was lightly pushing the woman out the house, almost as if begging her to leave with a little laugh. She looked the same, only dressed up similar to me.

“You’re going to want to see this,” he tugged on my dress, my hand slapping it away again but he yanked hard. He sent me flying to the back seat of the car. my side pushed into his with a loud oof.

I heard that stupid sitcom laugh again, trying to push it to the make of my mind as I pushed away from Bucky. I hit him in the side with the hat I had managed to take back with me, my mouth wide open to yell but Bucky shoved something in my face.

I could spot the coke logo from miles away, only it wasn’t the saem logo I had always remembered. The bottles were glass and the writing looked much more vintage. That when I noticed Bucky tapping on a part of the label, my eyes reading over the information their.

Expiration date: July 6th, 1953

“1953?” I looked around the neighborhood again, suddenly realizing the vintage cars that were parked along the streets and the dress that hung off my frame.

“How?”

“I don't hear you asking how we ended up in the wrong decade,” My voice was stern as he spoke, watching the dark haired lady finally leave Wanda’s porch and go to her own house close by.

“Not the time,” Bucky finally sat up slightly, watching the lady walk in her house.

“When is the time then? Maybe the 70s or do you wanna wait til the 90s,” I snapped, looking over my shoulder with a pout. His face was so close to me, I finally noticed his once long hair was cut short.

He looked like he had in those photos of Steve and himself, back from the 40s.

“Well, what do we do know?” Bucky looked at me, his nose almost hitting mine when he turned but I had slightly moved back.

“I guess blend it?” I shrugged, hearing that stupid sitcom laugh that I wanted ro punch in the face.

“How do you suppose we do that?”

I looked around the neighborhood, smiling when I noticed the house across from Wanda’s had a large “FOR SALE” sign standing in the front yard.

“Break into that house and act like we belong here,” I smirked, ignoring Bucky as I slowly climbed into the front seat of the car. I heard Bucky yell out about me kicking him but I didn’t care as I made it to the driver seat, pushing open the door.

“For your information, I do belong here,” were the last words I heard from Bucky before I closed the door, smiling over at the house and trying to keep my voice low to not attract wandering eyes. I stood in the same place for a second, suddenly my view changed from house to concrete. I felt a little bump on my backside and frown when I heard Bucky laugh.

“Should’ve held the door,” I noticed his combat boots beside my face. Normally I would have bought him down with me but I decided it would bring too much attention and simply pushed myself from the ground.

“I hate you,” I frowned, slamming my foot into the road when I heard that stupid laugh sound around me again.

“Okay okay,” Bucky held out two arms from me, trying his best to calm me down but it wasn’t any use, I simply pointed to the sign, turning back to look at Bucky with a serious look in my eye.

“We are stealing that sign and moving to that house.”

join the taglist!!

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<prologue - chapter 2>

[inkyzinky]

enough

Pairing: Whiskey x GN!Reader

Summary: Jack says his late-wife’s name in bed, it’s not the first time. He doesn’t notice, and that’s not new either. 

Notes: cursing; set vaguely pre-movie; mentions of Jack’s deceased wife; breakups & makeups

* * * * * * *

Laying there, sweaty and aching in the most satisfying ways, you let out a small laugh. It should have been satisfying. But as you sat up, the ache of your muscles and between your legs only brought bitterness to your hoarse throat.

The afternoon sun was getting low, light peaking through the clouds and in through the windows. Even from the bed you could see boxes of stuff piled around the room and in the next, some sealed and labeled, others only half packed. There was a move on the horizon, with the reshuffling of Statesman agents on the East coast, there were gaps to be filled in New York.

Jack was asleep, and would stay that way for another hour or so. Neither of you were getting any younger, and with jobs with such a high stress factor, post-sex naps were sometimes even more satisfying than the sex itself. Glancing at him, splayed out and disheveled in that particular way of his, the corner of your mouth tugged up just the slightest. Another day, you might have been tempted to join Jack in dreamland, but neither of you were getting any younger, and you knew you were too old and too tired to be playing these games any longer. Playing at love and domesticity when it was all such a joke.

With a sigh, you got up and went to shower in the guest bathroom, in hopes of letting Jack sleep as long as he could. Let him have peace a while longer. In the meantime, you had some work to do, arrangements to make.

When he woke, Jack wandered into the kitchen wearing jeans and a plain t-shirt. He was beautiful, barefooted and confused as he joined you at the dining table. You pushed over a cup of coffee.

“Was I snoring that bad, sweetheart?” he joked, but it was half-hearted– he must have seen the seriousness in your face. It wasn’t strange for you not to join him in a post-coital nap, but he knew how exhausted work had gotten you the past week and likely assumed you’d knock out even harder than him.

“Your snoring could put a lawnmower to shame.” Teasing in return felt nice, until you thought about how this may be the last time you’d ever do so. Jack’s brow furrowed to match your frown.

“What is it? Something’s wrong.”

“Yeah, you could say that.” You sighed, dread settling heavily in your stomach. “We should stop seeing each other.”

Immediately you cringed. Jack looked like he’d just been slapped.

stop seeing each other, as if the two of you had just gone on a few dates and it wasn’t working. As if this wasn’t years of a relationship coming to an end.

“I don’t– You want to break up.” Not a question, but you nod anyway. His hand rubbed harshly down his face. “I can’t say I agree with what’s happening. Or understand why.”

“What we’ve had has been amazing, but I have too much self-worth to be anyone’s second choice. Even if it’s yours.”

“You’re not!” he insisted, leaning forward and taking your hands. “You’re not second-place anything. I love you so much, darling.”

“I know you do, Jack.” You blinked, trying to keep your tears inside for the moment. “But you love someone else more.”

You looked down at his hands, held gently in your own. Jack’s eyes never left your face until your thumb started stroking over his ring.

He blinked, as if surprised by the sight. “Sweetheart, I…” He cleared his throat, overcome by the pieces he was putting together. “I can take the ring off, it’s just a habit at this point. It doesn’t mean I love you any less.”

And wasn’t that just the thing, the way he could get so used to the constancy of something he stopped noticing it. Didn’t notice other things that went along with it.

“You’ve been wearing this so long you don’t even see it anymore. But I do. I see it when we’re cooking, when we’re walking through the park, when we’re filling out paperwork for the office. When we’re watching TV, when we’re in our bed.” You take a fortifying breath. “I see her.”

Jack looked ready to interrupt but you didn’t let him, didn’t let yourself lose momentum. “Jack, you still love your wife. And that’s alright, it’s so sweet and I don’t ever want you to forget her or your baby. But you’re also still in love with her, and that isn’t something I’m alright with. In your heart you’re still married to her. I won’t share you with a woman long gone, not like this.”

“What the hell do you mean I’m still married to her in my heart?” he said, something new in his tone. Indignation, but behind that, anger. “Have we not built something special together? Have I not proved that I’ve moved on with everything we’ve been through?”

“Jack,” you said, soft and sad, “you still say her name when we make love.”

He didn’t say anything, his eyes wide, mouth hanging open. Eventually, he found his words. “I think I would know if I did something like that. And I distinctly recall screaming your name on multiple occasions– countless occasions.”

That was true, and any time you managed that it made you feel so good, loved and powerful and cherished (a small part also felt triumphant, and with that also came guilt).

“You don’t say it every time. But it’s been…enough.” Each one had been a knife in your heart.

“Why not tell me sooner?”

“When we first started this, dating, I was afraid to bring it up. I thought it would stop as our relationship grew. The first time it happened, we’d just finished that mission in Alabama, the one that really went to shit. I’d almost died and you got thrown off a cliff. I figured it was just a fluke, that stress and the adrenaline just scrambled some things.”

“Sweetheart,” he pleaded, “I swear I wasn’t thinking about her that night. All I could think about was how relieved I was that you were alive. I don’t think about her when I’m with you.”

“But it kept happening,” you carry on. “And I did a cowardly thing, Jack. I told myself that everything else about us was great, and I shouldn’t be ready to ruin something as good as this. So I didn’t say anything, even when I should have. But you did it again, just this afternoon, and I can’t do this anymore. I’m too old to play a game competing against a ghost.”

“I’m so sorry I did that, but you should have told me–” and the inflection of his voice, the offense he felt he had right to...it sparked something in you and you dropped his hands.

“I know I should have,” you interrupted angrily. “But this shouldn’t even be a problem in the first place. I shouldn’t have to ask you not to say your dead wife’s name when we fuck so excuse me for thinking that maybe if I could get you to love me enough this wouldn’t even be a problem!”

Breaths coming a little short, you could feel the wall keeping your impending breakdown in check crumbling away, and willed it to hold just a little longer.

“I didn’t want to have to ask you to let go of your wife, or to stop saying her name in our bed, or to take off your ring. I thought you’d do it when you were ready. I wanted you to do those things on your own. To choose me on your own.”

His hand came to cradle your cheek and you realized you’d started crying.

“I do choose you. I want you more than anything.”

Even leaning into his hand, you shook your head.

“We’re done, Jack.”

Quickly, you stood up and left, barely making it to your car before you let everything out, sobbing against the wheel and wishing things were different.

[personasintro]

My Tiny Secret | 21; His Decision

𝑴𝒚 𝑻𝒊𝒏𝒚 𝑺𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆 | 21; His Decision

⏤𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔; Pretty face doesn’t make it up for an ugly personality. And Kim Seokjin is the perfect proof of that.

⏤𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: seokjin x reader

⏤𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: angst, smut, fluff, mistress au, unexpected pregnancy au

⏤𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: strong language, mature content

⏤> 𝒇𝒊𝒄 𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒙

“Mhmm... fuck.” you breathe out, swallowing another moan as Seokjin's plump lips latch onto your clit while his long and slim fingers are busy pumping inside your clenched hole.

“This pretty pussy,” he sneers against your heat, before he starts to suck your little bundle of nerves all over again.

It's around eight in the morning, meaning you still got at least ten minutes before Yoojin wakes up. If it weren't for his occasional cries, you'd sleep like you haven't in a long time. Maybe the reason behind your good sleep was the person sleeping next to you, or you just enjoyed someone else's warmth next to you. Seokjin would wake up with you, groggily groaning whenever you were already standing up to get your son, watching you in the darkness while you bounced him in your hands, trying to get him to sleep. It was something you weren't aware of, until you found out he was still awake, waiting for you to return to bed.

Even though the night with him was great, you've never expected him to wake up a few minutes after you, ready to devour you all over again. This time, only using his mouth and fingers.

“Hmm...” he hums, as if he's savoring the taste of your arousal, is just enough to buckle your hips against his face.

Your back arches from the couch's, thighs dangerously caging his head from all the pleasure he gives you just with his mouth and fingers. You pull his hair, a deep groan vibrating in his chest sends a wave of incredible pleasure all over your body,

“Cum for me.” he murmurs, enough for you to hear but still careful not to be extremely loud.

With more few pumps and his tongue flicking your clit in animalistic pace, you're chocking up on your moans as you're cumming. Your mouth fully agape, tears prickling the corners of your shut eyes are just natural reaction, your heat sucking his fingers in as he swallows your cum mixed with arousal. When overstimulation starts to kick in, you nudge his head before he gets the clue, licking your swollen heat for the last time before he pulls away.

His big lips are coated with your cum, shining in the natural lightening as you curse at the sight. He smirks, swiping it off with his finger before he puts it in his mouth, sucking on it as he cleans it. You watch him doing it with the rest of the fingers, where your arousal and cum is still clear, feeling your heat pulse.

That was incredible.

You sit up, pulling down your shirt before he plops onto the couch next to you.

“Are we going to talk about what happened?” you ask, breath caught in your throat from the intense orgasm you've just experienced.

“I ate you out, what's there to talk about?” he chuckles, showing you his white teeth while his eyes are focused on you.

“Jin,” you whine, the corners of his mouth lifts at the nickname rolling out of your tongue. It's been a few months when you started calling him that and he enjoys it every time you say it. “I'm serious.”

“So am I.”

It still takes you at least five seconds to get used to him joking and fooling around.

“Do you think us having sex was a good idea?” you ask him with a murmur, pulling your shirt down your thighs even though you feel the uncomfortable wetness pooling between your legs.

Maybe you should've used the bathroom to clean yourself before starting this topic, but there's no turning back. Especially when all amusement wipes off his face instantly, a hardened gaze staring right back at you. It makes your shoulders tense and your arms hugging yourself, taken back by the sudden change of atmosphere.

However, when he notices your body language he relaxes his expression and licks his lips slowly, before a raspy voice reaches your ears.

“Are you regretting that it happened? Because I asked you if you're sure.” he says, points out the small fact that brings you back to yesterday night, night full of kisses and deeper connection. It's weird, he almost sounds hurt asking that.

“No, I know that. I don't regret it, Do you?” you tell him quickly, watching him shaking his head.

“I don't. But why are you asking me this then?” he sounds genuinely confused, and you know you're confusing him every second you don't response.

Quickly gathering yourself, you give him a tiny smile before you sigh.

“I don't regret us having sex. It felt... nice. And different than the other times and I know something has changed, I'm not sure whether you felt it too or not...” you trail off, catching a glimpse of him but he only stares at you.

He doesn't confirm it, nor deny it which leaves your comment ignored but him not denying it means something. Right?

“I know you're not used to talk about your feelings openly, or about any situation that's close to it. And I don't wanna pressure you into anything. I'm not used to it either, well, not with you. We've never really talked about such things so openly, or ever actually. All I wanted to say is, that I don't think it was a smart move... us having sex. Even though, I don't regret it.”

He stays quiet for a solid five seconds as he scratches his cheekbone, but opens his mouth.

“I'm not quite sure what this is about.” he admits.

“Well,” you start, “think about it this way. It happened, and it's okay and we don't regret it. But if we keep doing this, Yoojin will grow up seeing us close and I don't want him to be confused in the future. I know we still got a lot of time before he truly starts to realize this, but it's better to put pause or stop this while we can. You're still married, and imagine us being intimate again. He will just grow confused, wondering if we're together or not. I'm a single woman, but I want to find someone in the future. As much as I've enjoyed last night, I can't keep doing this with you. I know we both agreed to it, but I need to respect myself as a woman more. I don't think us doing this again would do some good.”

God, you really enjoyed feeling his lips and hands all over your body. You truly did. That night was special, whether he acknowledges it the same way like you do or not. You're not necessarily someone who wants to put labels on things, as long as there was consent on both parts, there shouldn't be any issue with that. You're a grown up woman who can decide what she wants. But you're also a mother, which is a huge responsibility and you can't keep acting like that young woman who couldn't get enough of the CEO in a black suit and shitty attitude. He has changed, for the better, something you've never thought you would get to see. And fuck, how proud you are of him. You really are.

But not even that means, you're going to jump back into the previous relationship the two of you had.

There's another person in your lives, your son, who's going to grow up and sense your relationship from a far. You can't act irresponsible just because he's good in bed and you've a weird chemistry going on. Your son is much important than your secret desires and lust.

“I understand,” he says slowly, biting onto his inner cheek before he sighs. “I think you're right. I should've thought of it sooner.”

“Hey, don't be so hard on yourself. I want you to know, I really enjoyed last night and it gave me a different perspective. But as of now, I think we should focus on him rather than our hormones.”

You obviously find each other attractive, you always did. If you didn't, you two wouldn't have secret rendezvous and nine months old son right now.

And although, you want to kiss those juicy lips again and utilize him being getting more open and affectionate, you can't let it affect the future.

“You're right,” he nods, palms slapping against his thighs as he stands up. “No more kissing and sex. Got it.” he chuckles, causing you to do the same, although you're pushing back the pout that wants to settle on your lips.

Idiot, you were the one who came up with this.

But it feels like the right thing to do so.

“Yeah,” you nod, standing up with him as you cringe at the feeling between your legs. “I need to clean myself before Yoojin wakes up.”

“I've some errands to run,” he says, picking up his phone from the coffee table as he puts it into his raven black slacks. God, the image of him eating you out in his suit is devilish. “Will you be fine?”

“Of course,” you smile up at him, “Will you come for the dinner tonight?”

He barely misses your dinner. There were times you wanted to bring him a homemade lunch, a surprised visit by you and Yoojin in his company, but you don't want to push things. You're not sure if you'd cross some lines. Plus, you know how busy he is.

You're thinking about making a Chinese food, or traditional Korean, whatever he chooses.

“Actually, I don't think I'll make it tonight,” he answers, scratching the back of his neck as your shoulders fall in disappointment. “I'll text you.”

“Yeah, sure.” you muster a smile, biding a goodbye as you rush yourself to the shower.

You hear him padding around the apartment for a couple of minutes, before he shuts the front door with a soft click. It leaves you letting out a saddened sigh, turning on a warm water that covers your naked and shivering body.

It's weird how in span of a few months this place feels foreign, even though he spent a good amount of his life here. He remembers he spent hours in a meeting with one of the best architectures and interior designers he could find in Seoul, trying to create a perfect vision of his taste and home. It's comical that no matter how much of a personal touch he gave to this place, it never felt like a true home. At first, he never realized it until now. It feels cold, unlocking the wide black wooden front door, and even the scent of it makes him want to turn around and leave.

It doesn't smell like your apartment. There is no scent of cherry blossom diffuser or baby powder, something he misses and got used to quite quickly.

And it doesn't matter if this house is huge and has a better interior, when there's no feeling to it. The whole house feels like a ghost town, empty and lonely and that's why a rustling sound takes him by surprise.

Taking his shoes off, he ignores the dust that's settled on the shoe rack, wondering if she ever took a mop into her hands and cleaned herself. The charwoman he hired got sick, so she hasn't been coming to the house to clean it and he forgot to call another one in the meantime. It's safe to say he didn't even care when he's spending most of his time in his office or at your place. Pathetically, he thought his hard-working' wife would clean it herself.

He follows the sound, realizing it's coming from the kitchen as he takes off his suit jacket while walking there.

She might not be cleaning, but he's definitely shocked to see her rustling with pots and the weird smell of something that's simmering in the pan. She turns around, ready to check her unlocked and bright phone, but she notices him causing her to gasp in shock.

“Fuck, you scared me!” she exclaims, holding her chest as she breathes through it. “You came home?” she asks surprised, still trying to calm down her beating heart while her husband just stares at her.

He decides to give her a brief nod, tossing his suit jacket onto the kitchen island as he leans against it with his hand. “What are you doing?”

“Cooking.” she answers, tapping onto the screen of her phone that lightens up with something that looks like a recipe.

Well, he can see that. He hasn't seen her standing behind the stove, trying to cook something, ever. And whatever this is, he doesn't comment it and stares at her focused face.

She cut her hair short, but other than that she looks just exactly the same. She's wearing a tight red dress, a complete opposite of your loose baggy shirt that you always wear at home. Her hair is sleek, perfectly styled as if she's going somewhere but she's not. He knows that because she wouldn't waste her time trying to cook, if she had somewhere else to be. When you cook, you always put your hair into a messy bun or ponytail, so it doesn't go into your eyes and face.

He has no clue why he keeps comparing you to her, but both of you are so different. It's almost a complete opposite and he wonders how possibly he could have felt attracted to the both of you. You're both glorious women, although you're so different from each other.

She closes one of the cupboards, reaching for the glass of red wine as she slowly sips from it, glancing at him through her black lashes.

“Can we talk?” he asks, seeing she has no intention talking first.

It's weird how calm she acts, no jabbing or comments on his sudden visit.

“About what?” she hums, placing the glass back down before she licks her lips.

“This marriage,” he answers, causing her to freeze in her spot before she pokes her inner cheek with the tip of her tongue. “It's not working out.”

He lacks of empathy, and it's shame that he as her husband can't really read her emotions, but he's not blind. He can see how she clenches her sharp jaw, ready to snap at him any second but she calmly grips the edges of kitchen counter.

“Who said it's not working out?” she manages to say through clenched teeth, staring at the marble instead.

“I did. Just now,” he shrugs, sounding careless which makes her blood boil. “I don't plan on sugarcoating anything. I wanna divorce you, but I thought you should hear it from me first, before my lawyer contacts you.”

The good thing is, that she placed the glass down before he dropped this bomb onto her. It'd surely end up on the floor right now, along with her dignity.

“You–You can't just do this!” she exclaims, trying to find her voice and fight the shock while she glares at him. “Why are you doing this?”

“Why are you acting so shocked? I barely spend my time here, I don't come home anymore and we're nothing but roommates at this point.”

“That's not the point!” she shoots back, causing him to sigh.

He really doesn't want to raise his voice, he remains calm while his wife is ready to burst any second.

“And what is? I don't see the point in this ridiculous marriage.” he tells her honestly, but that only makes her fume even more.

“You're fucking unbelievable! So, just because you've a son now, you suddenly don't need me?”

“Let's not go there.” he warns her, eyes furrowing as she has the audacity to bring him into this. He wanted to do this calmly, but if she utters a single bad word about his son, he's going to snap.

“How about let's go there?” she barks, trashing with her hands. “So, now that I can't have your children I am nothing? I'm not worth of being your wife, is that it? But she is, right? You're going to marry her and have a family with her.”

He sees nothing but jealously and anger. Some part of him knew she's going to bring you into this. No matter how many months has passed, you're always ticking her nerves.

“Don't talk nonsense,” he sighs, “She has nothing to do with this. I'm doing this for my son, and for me. We don't love each other, this marriage was just a plan for the both of us. Don't act like there were any feelings involved.”

She purses her lips, knowing he's saying the truth. She doesn't love him, she loved the fact how wealthy he is and what can he give her. Having his kid would be just an insurance of having the rest of her life taken care of. She wouldn't have to worry about money, place to live in or designer clothes that are practically spilling from her huge closet.

“Still, you can't treat me like shit.”

“Am I? I'm standing here, telling you my decision before my lawyer could. How is that me treating you like shit? I wasn't the best husband, I'm aware of that. But I gave you everything you pointed your little finger at. That was just enough for you, wasn't it?”

He doesn't even bring up the whole topic of her using him for the money. He's not here to fight.

His voice is firm, but still calm which makes her taken back by his attitude. She notices how round his cheeks got, he looks better than when she had last seen him. It makes her wonder if you're behind it.

“Do you love her?” she mutters, clenching her jaw as her knuckles whiten at how tight she grips the counter.

He almost wants to laugh out loud at her jealously. She doesn't even love him, yet she's getting jealous just from the thought of him having feelings for someone else that's not her. She has so many men wrapped around her finger, he's not particularly scared of her ending up alone. She'll find someone else before she even properly signs the papers. But here she is, getting jealous and angry just because she isn't the one who got him better.

“No,” he answers simply, “I care about my son.”

“So, you barely staying here is just because you care about your son?” she sounds skeptical, but there's still hatred in her voice.

He's not sure what he feels towards you. But he knows he never felt about anyone that way. It's not love, it can't be. But he cares about you. Maybe it's because you're his son's mother, he thinks.

“I made the decision,” he starts, watching her attentively. “to become a better father.”

“How touching.” she snorts, rolling her eyes at him which makes him take a deep breath.

“You know, one day when you decide to adopt a kid,”

She wouldn't, he knows that. She doesn't like kids to begin with. It's a random thought, but he's glad you ended up pregnant instead of her. He can see it in your eyes how happy you're whenever you look at Yoojin, and maybe it wasn't planned pregnancy, but you wouldn't change him for anything. He knows his son is in good hands and couldn't have a better mother.

Who knows, maybe if she had her own baby, things would change. But he doubts it.

“You might understand what it feels like. Until then, you're never going to understand why I did this.”

Her face scrunches in a painful manner, but she embraces herself and holds her head high.

“She's just another bitch trying to screw you over, using your son.”

She's hurt, he can see it in her eyes, despite of them never being so close. It's the anger, jealously and even hatred speaking out of her but that doesn't justify her attitude.

“Ara.” he warns her, growling at her as she puts her hand in front of her stopping him.

“No, she's already doing it. She's using your son to get to you, and look how that turned out!”

“She's not you, Ara,” he tells her, her mouth opening in disbelief as he takes his suit jacket off the counter. “You can keep the house if you want. That's all I can give you.”

“I'll ruin you.” she spits.

“No, you won't.” he tells her, causing her to slap her hands onto the top of the counter but he doesn't budge, raising a brow at her.

“I'll strip you off your money, you'll have nothing.” she threatens, causing him to smirk as he chuckles lowly.

“Try it,” he shrugs, “But before you can even make a plan, don't forget I can ruin you with the snap of my fingers. Think wisely. My offer is the house, if not, I don't owe you a shit.”

He doesn't want to threaten her, but he can't let her walk over him, threatening him. He's choosing his attitude and words carefully. If this was happening a year ago, he'd stand up to this differently. But now he has a son, a little family he needs to take care of. He needs to be more careful what he says and does.

“You're going to regret this.” she tries for the last time, hating how unaffected he seems to be.

“No, I won't. I've made the best decision I could,” he tells her honestly, not even glaring at her. He sees the shock written on her face, seeing the change in him. “And I hope you'll do as well.”

Taking the last glance at her, he walks out of the house before she can utter another set of threats. He knows she's all bark but no bite. She has no power to do something. And with him no longer being there, she is reminded of the burnt sauce she was trying to cook. Her first attempt of cooking contrasting her life, as she angrily turns off the stove and takes the glass of wine, throwing it onto the perfect colored wall with a scream.

As soon as he is out of the house, the fresh air hits his face and he inhales heavily, making his way to his black sport car.

He feels relaxed, sighing as soon as he rides off the driveway and checks the time on the touch screen.

He will make it to the dinner after all.