#and get a 95 while someone who wrote it a day before and hit the min word requirement got a 97

[jrueships]

getting told my professional emails are like fun bedtime stories that get reread & reread& reread by the people i send them to bcs they're always apparently very long(😦😦😦😦), humorous(?!?!??), charming(??), & never have a sequel bcs i do not respond after sending one 😦

[proshipmori]

Complaining about amount of fanfic the ship you like has: a complicated discussion

Before we start, a little explanation for something that will come up in this post as it's fandom specific: identity v has something called skin ship - ships between characters having different in game skins (if you've played games with this mechanic you were probably aware of it).

Now, onto the actual start of the post:

At one point you've probably searched a ship that, whether on here or on Twitter, and you might have come across a post like this:

"Why isn't there more fanfics of (ship name)? I want more fics of them!"

This is the part where some people roll their eyes and even maybe reply or report the post/tweet saying:

"Write it yourself."

This is a discussion that comes back every month like clockwork. It happened around two weeks ago when the ao3 ship stats got announced, and then a few days later due to someone complaining about the lack of femslash ships in a fandom. We can talk about this all day long, but we're here today for something, while still on this topic, slightly different.

Imagine the scenario:

You are one of the few writers for a ship. the whole ao3 tag is filled with your work. I'm talking 95% of the fics are written by you. You love this ship a lot, like really a lot.

But at one point, you'll hit a wall. You will be burned out, you will want to just sit down and read a fic for that same ship written by someone else.

But you can't. Because you are one of the few people who cares.

It doesn't feel that great, right? Sometimes, you want to just unwind and relax, not have to write something to enjoy it.

So, obviously, the first thing that comes to mind is expressing disappointment.

And let me tell you, I feel this.

I will be using my previous main fandom (bungou stray dogs) and my current one (identity v) to express sympathy for you. My main ship was a rarepair in the bsd fandom. out of all 58 fics in that ship tag, I wrote 40 of them. When you do the math, that's approximately 71% of the tag filled with fics written by me.

My current interest is identity v. One of my favourite ships (joscarl), while one of the more popular ones, doesn't have as active of a tag as before (different story for a different day) but I love it nonetheless. However, I also happen to enjoy any skin ship that involves the blindspot skin. This is a controversial choice, as pretty much any ship with that skin is considered problematic, but I don't particularly care as I'm not forcing anyone to like it.

I am the one person who writes fics (and wrote for my previous ship) for them because I enjoy them. But after time, I just don't want to always be the one to do it.

I want to sit down and read something written by a different person. And yea, you can go to jp sites and use google translate to get a fic to read (even if the translation is a bit wonky) but do I really want to do that every time? Can a person not want to just sit down and enjoy something?

This sort of complaining, while still complaining, isn't really the same as the first situation I described. One is a person (who probably isn't a fic writer) complaining about something they like not having more fics and the other is a person actively creating fanwork for themselves, getting burned out and not wanting to always have to create food they want.

While at its core it is the same thing, there is a difference, and I don't believe they should be treated the same way.

As someone who creates fanworks, I love the process of creating things for the characters and ships I enjoy. But there are just so many things that factor into this and sometimes I just don't want to do that. Sometimes I just want to be the audience who enjoys something, like the people enjoying my fics do when I write them.

I hope this resonated with someone at least. This was more of an open discussion that I would like for people to see and also bring their thoughts into. You're free to respond to this however you like as I always love a good discussion as long as it's polite!

[mythical-bookworm]

20 Questions for Fic Writers!

(Thanks to @professorsaber for tagging me!)

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

10

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

99,759 (Minus About 13,000 if you don't want to include the Discord Blind Writing game, most of which I did not write)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

In order of amount of fics:

Amphibia

Gravity Falls

Back to the Future

Wings of Fire

The Cyclist

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Lost With a Second Chance (Amphibia)

Two Deaths, Five Perspectives (Amphibia)

I've been thinking of our future, 'cause I'll never see those days (Amphibia)

The Fourth Wall (Gravity Falls)

Leaves Fall Just Like Me When It Is Over (Amphibia)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

95% of the time! For one it's always polite. But also it means the world to me when I get a comment! That means someone read my story, and has something to say. They were moved enough to take the risk and reach out. Plus it's a way to meet new people!

The only times I don't is when I legitimately have nothing I can respond with, or if it is a hate message.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Argh that is extremely hard.

At first I would say Don't Try to be a Hero. The fic is overall an angsty introspective character study and ends with the character wallowing. But it's all introspective.

But than there's The Fourth Wall, basically a crack meta fic that does anything but take itself seriously. The entire fic is Dipper and Mabel finding the fourth wall and figuring out their in a fanfiction. It ends with them seeing the end and there is nothing they can do to stop it. Once the fic ends, they do to. Which uh yeah, darker implications than I meant.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

This one is hard! None of my posted fics necessarily have a super happy all problems solved ending.

In the end I'd have to go with Leaves Fall Just Like Me When It Is Over. Anne finally reveals the full truth of what happened on her last day of Amphibia and she can finally start to heal. She feels lightened, the burden of the secret lifted.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not really. I've had disappointing ones, more raw ones. I had some criticism comments. And while some of it was very true, other parts just hit me like whiplash as it was put pretty bluntly.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Nope nope nope, and nope.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Nah, usually not to much into that stuff anyways.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I know of.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not really, unless you count the Blind Bttf Discord Writing Game. (Results here.)

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

Uh, ok so I'm not a huge shipper. Like I'll support the canon ships and all. but I'm not necessarily all gushy about them. And I'm usually not a fan of fanon ships.

If I had to chose one though it would be Flinn. Now I am no Adventure Time enthusiast, but I did really like this ship between Finn and Flame Princess.

A close second would be Marty/Jennifer, because the two are each others biggest cheerleaders and I love that. :)

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Oh jeez, ok. Probably a Back to the Future Oneshot entitles "Are You Alright?"

Overall, I like the concept. The idea is George doesn't kiss Lorraine. As Marty is fading he runs off stage and collapses by the side of the gym, catching George's attention. George finds him and Marty successfully hides his fading from existence and tells George to tell Doc about him being shot in 1985. George delivers the message and Doc is distraught in realizing what had happened. So he decides to use the lighting strike to go back in time and help Marty get George and Loraine to kiss. George ends up learning exactly who Marty is and goes back in time to get his past self to kiss Loraine. This fails so he does it himself.

Unfortunately there are issues with this:

First is timeline. There is not enough time for all the events to occur before the lightning strike happens. Doc would have totally missed it.

Second, once ensuring Marty's existence, he wouldn't be able to go home. Doc is already using the lightning bolt to go back in time to get George to kiss Lorraine. And I simply don't want that. I want a happy ending for once dang it.

16. What are your writing strengths?

And you have asked the hardest question ever.

I've been told I do some good suspense. Also been told I have good pacing, but others say I don't so who knows on that.

Personally I feel like I'm really good at letting the characters run free. I hardly have any outline when it comes to fics and let my characters make the path. This had lead to some surprising twists that ended up being much better than what I could come up with.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Everything.

Okay real answer:

-Writing cute fluffy moments to be interesting. I'm working really hard on that, in fact I'm writing a BttF fic focusing a lot on that so I can get better.

-Repetitive words. How do I specify the same character without saying their name 5 times? Am I to repetitive? Am I not saying their name enough? AAAAAAAAAA

-Keeping everything in context and connected. My main issue with my Lost With a Second Chance was I made a character have amnesia, which did nothing in the long run. All it did was make drama. So I'm trying to make everything connect, everything have a reason. Plus creating cool loops.

-Show not tell. I'm a lot better, but I definitely need improvement.

-Not make things to obvious but not so unobvious is seems weird. For example, mysterious villain. I'm struggling to not just have something that magically gives the character all the information, but than I'm struggling to get them the answers so the villain doesn't seem shallow cause he's not, you just don't know it yet. Or, oh this character is acting this way because of a, b, and c, but I dropped you in the middle so I'm not sure how to put the point across without blatantly telling you.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Never thought about it. I only know one language so I'd have to put things into Google Translate. I have taken sections of books and Google Translated it a bunch of times to absolutely destroy it though.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Amphibia!

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

Definitely Great Scott! (Doctober 2023) . I had so so so much fun writing it and I truly improved by it!

Tagging @knickynoo @daryfromthefuture @bg-sparrowand anyone else who wants to do it!

[heliwrites]

A Sad Tale

I felt weird not posting anything but my motivation is not here right now so here's something I wrote a long time ago. It's supposed to backstory on my oc Juno and why he no longer dates anyone. It's also supposed to be angst but my writing skills has always been mid so sorry of it's bad.

w.c: 1.5k

April 15th XXXX

14-year-old Juno and Mandi stood in front of a painting, it wasn’t a truly remarkable painting and Juno felt that he could do way better even as a beginner. But they didn’t trespass into this decrepit house to look at terrible paintings, no it was what was in this painting that actually mattered. It was an important something so great the chaperone had drilled into them that they were not allowed to mess up weeks before they had even arrived at the location. In fact, the importance of this thing was so great that it had been drilled into them since the day they met this guy. This object was so important, so integral to the organization that upon finding out it was missing Juno and Mandi spent about 15 minutes contemplating running away and changing their identity. 

“I got a 100 in disguise training class and you got a 95!!! All I’m saying is that it wouldn’t be too hard to just go adios and never be seen again!” Juno said while frantically pacing around the room occasionally stepping around failing floorboards

“Juno Alpin I have repeated this for the one-thousandth fucking time, who do think are the people that are going to be looking for us?!?!?” At this point Mandi was exasperated, she was exhausted, hungry, and stuck in some decaying town looking for something that was above her paygrade (not that she very got paid).

“Plus neither of us are old enough to legally get jobs so how are we gonna survive?” she added

“I heard Lucky Smells is hiring,” replied Juno, who immediately got a disgusted stare from Mandi. She was going to retort when she noticed he stopped moving and was just staring at the doorway, head cocked. 

“Thought I heard something,” he said at her questioning glance

“Well dog boy, then you heard right.” A mysterious voice replied cockily before being followed by a boy. He looked to be about their age with messy black hair and a permanent smirk lining his face.

“And by the way, next time you guys go to grab something important try not to take so long lest someone else take the opportunity.” He then ran off (with Juno and Mandi in the chase).

That was the first time they met, they didn’t know each other’s names or personalities just what they looked like. No true introductions would come much later.

May 4th, XXXX (one year later)

Juno sat at the cold, dreary beach staring into the fog and the grey sea. It wasn’t a cold day but it was windy and slightly chilly, the type of day where a family would decide not to go to the beach and instead do something more fitting, like reading or whatever families do. But to Juno, this was the perfect time to go to the beach. He found that beaches were never fun when it was crowded and the hot sand plus the sun’s scorching rays just ruined the even worse trip. But although he never changed this habit in the years after this on this specific day he’d wish he’d been doing something normal, something normal families would do, something that kept him from meeting him again. 

It had happened so suddenly, one moment Juno was staring out at the fog thinking poetic thoughts (not really he was thinking about how to tame leeches but let’s ignore that), and the next moment he was joined by a visitor.

He looked over at the guy sitting next to him then looked around at the huge beach around him. He didn’t say a word though. The silence continued like that until Juno, hit by a thought, spoke up.

“You stole something from me a year ago”

The guy looked up at him in fake sadness. “Stole? How could you accuse me of such things? One I was there first and two it’s not like it was yours in the first place.”

Juno couldn’t argue with that.

“Ray” 

Juno looked at him confused, considering he never asked 

“I’m introducing myself, the name’s Ray” Ray then rolled his eyes at what he assumed was this other boy being slow

“Oh I figured that out but what makes you think I care?” Juno said, giving the same attitude and eye roll.

This got a laugh out of Ray and for some odd reason a smile out of Juno, he supposed it had something to do with human empathy and it didn’t help that his laugh was quite infectious.

“Juno, by the way, although I’m never the type of person to introduce myself without one asking I figured I’d be polite” Juno then stood up, brushed the sand off his pants then started walking away.

“Where ya going??” Ray yelled after him 

“I’m gonna leave before you continue telling me things I never asked to know!!!!” Juno yelled back, earning a laugh from Ray and a blush from Juno

But this wasn’t the end of their friendship as you can tell. Weeks and months went on with Ray and Juno meeting up secretly, slowly becoming closer and closer. At some point, though, they stopped being friends and became something…. more. Simple greetings then became high fives which turned to kisses. Long conversations staring up at the sky included more hand-holding than they did before. Confessions of inexperience stopped being true under the cover of the night. Although they often stumbled around like newborn deer they were lovers and to some it was wrong but to them, it felt just right.

As to not reveal anything they never introduced any of the people in their life to each other, it was in all definition a secret relationship. Well everyone except Mandi, who did know and did not approve of it.  “You don’t even know his last name!! What if he’s a fire starter?” was her constant complaint but Juno saw it differently. He liked it that they didn’t know anything about each other; it took away all expectations of what he felt he had to be. Plus Ray was well-educated and kept up with Juno’s book talk there’s no way he was a fire starter.

If there’s one thing Juno wanted to do was to smack his younger self for his blatant displays of hubris.

August 25th XXXX (2 years after their first true meeting)

17-year-old Juno stared at the burning building in horror then at the one he called his lover. So much literature gone, so much painting turned to dust, and the culprit, the man who he poured his feelings out to, who he had been vulnerable with in ways he had never been before, was right in front of him, shocked but red-handed.

Juno felt himself get choked up. “How- how could you?!” He tried being as calm as he could but it was getting hard. “Do you know what you’ve done, how many wonderful pieces of art-”

“Yes Juno I’m not a fucking child I know exactly what I’m doing,” Ray said spitefully 

“Then how could you?! You said you respected them, that you appreciated the arts, that you- that you” Juno couldn’t continue, he was confused, upset, and sorrowful all at once.

“Was it all a lie?” He said bleakly hoping for the truth to not be reality but look on Ray’s face told him otherwise

“Then how much of it was fake?? How much did you lie to me???” Juno was trying to not shout but his emotions were getting ahead of himself, he could barely even think beyond what he was feeling at the moment

“Juno babe please, none of my love was fake and you know that you chose not to learn anything about me, to live in ignorance. Quite ironic to be honest.” Juno hated how calm he was, how got past the initial shock so quickly, and was now just standing there, golden eyes dull with boredom as if Juno was some hysteric housewife.

Juno said nothing to that, refusing to believe the lies of something who treats relics like that. He pulled up his communicator and called for backup reporting a fire but no equipment to deal with it and by the time he was done Ray was gone.

Juno would say that meeting Ray was his biggest regret and his second-biggest regret happened right after the fire. He regretted allowing his lovesick brain to cover Ray, that despite the obvious fact that he knew who did it Juno kept his mouth shut and let himself get in trouble. He was a fool dressed as a genius.

After that whole ordeal, Juno apologized to Mandi for dismissing her and let her know she was right, and in return, Mandi comforted him the entire night letting him cry and promising to never tell a soul.

Although the scar never healed Juno moved on, he wasn’t a dainty piece of glass and he had duties. He was going to become something great and letting a malicious liar like that get him down wasn’t a part of his plan when he had books to save. And although that wasn’t the last time he saw Ray, which did hurt every single time, and although he has yet to move on romantically he was still stronger cause Juno was better than him, he knew he was better and he hoped that one day Ray would regret being on the wrong side of history.

[she-who-fights-and-writes]

Hello, sorry if you've gotten this question before but do you have any tips for writing a scene in which a character gets drunk? Since I can't drink, I feel that my scenes sound like a teenager wrote them. Are there any behaviors/dialogue quirks to avoid so it doesn't sound inauthentic?

How to Write A Drunk Character (For People Who Can't/Prefer Not To Drink)

Drinking is a social activity that a lot of people love to partake in, and although drinking is often associated with rambunctious behavior now a days, "sharing a drink" with your friends is one of the oldest forms of companionship in history.

Having your characters get drunk together can not only be a spot of humor in an otherwise serious story, but also can be a way to build relationships and bond; after all, when they're drunk there is an element of trust they need to have in the people around them, in order to make sure they'll look out for them/won't do anything bad while they're in an incapacitated state.

However, if you haven't experienced it yourself--for whatever reason--it may be difficult to write how a character acts when they've had a bit too much to drink.

Here are some general tips on how to write a drunk character.

1. How much does it take?

One thing that is a dead giveaway that an author has never drank or gotten drunk is when a character starts to feel the effects of alcohol after one sip. For most people, that doesn't happen.

How fast a character gets drunk depends on a few factors:

Size (height, weight)

If they're used to drinking a lot

The type of drink being consumed

How fast they drink in a short period

If they've eaten recently

A character who is 6'5" and 250lbs who drinks like a horse every night is going to get drunk a lot slower than a 4'11" character who's 100lbs soaking wet and has never touched an alcoholic beverage before.

If someone gets drunk easily, they're called a "lightweight," however, someone can shed their lightweight status with practice (i.e. drinking regularly). The faster they drink, the drunker they'll get, and if they're on an empty stomach, it'll hit them a lot harder.

You also have to be aware of the kind of drink they’re consuming, and the alcohol percentage of each one; the higher the percentage, the faster it’ll get them drunk. Here are some percentages of Alcohol By Volume according to Sunrise House Treatment Center.

Vodka | ABV: 40-95%

Tequila | ABV: 50-51%

Gin | ABV: 36-50%

Rum | ABV: 36-50%

Whiskey | ABV: 36-50%

Fortified Wine | ABV: 16-24%

Unfortified Wine | ABV: 14-16%

Liqueurs | ABV: 15%

Malt Beverage | ABV: 15%

Beer | ABV: 4-8%

As you can see, liquors (which are grain-based alcohols), are some of the heaviest hitters here. They're usually taken as shots (vodka, whiskey, and tequila especially), which is also a reason why they're the main perpetrators of drunkenness; not only are they strong, but they're also taken quickly.

If your character isn't a fan of shots, they can cut their drink with something else to create a mixer, such as lemonade, seltzer, or even water.

Note: The only TRUE way for your character to sober up is with time. Cold showers and other remedies may help the side effects, but the levels in their blood will not wane until it fully goes through their system.

2. How Does It Feel?

There are a few stages to drunkenness that fluctuate throughout the night as your character is drinking.

Stage 1: Sober

Your character has had nothing or only a little to drink. They are still sharp, alert, and acting normally.

Stage 2: Tipsy

Tipsy characters are still alert and can hold conversation, basically sober people but a bit "looser." They may have had a glass of wine/a shot or two and are now starting to feel the effects of the alcohol in their system.

Tipsy is the tip of the iceberg, and here are some characteristics of being tipsy that many people exhibit while they're drinking:

More talkative, conversation comes easier

Cognitive thought processes are slowed

Shorter attention span/easier to space out

Decision-making skills are less refined (more likely to take risks, "voice of reason" is quieter)

Short-term memory is poorer

Walking may come with a some difficulty, as there's a slight head rush and bodily orientation is a little thrown off (kind of like the full-body version of "you're now blinking manually"), but there isn't usually a high risk of falling or stumbling.

Overall, a tipsy person could hold their all in a public setting, albeit with some struggle.

Stage 3: Drunk

Once your characters have teetered off the ledge of "tipsy" and into "drunk," there come some changes to their demeanor. For some, their entire personality changes when they're drunk (which will be discussed later).

On top of this, many people exhibit bodily changes such as:

Drowsiness

Loss of coordination/balance issues

Blurry/tunneled/unfocused vision

Struggle to make proper judgements

Attention deficit, struggling to focus

Struggle to remember things, and not just short-term

Mood swings; many drunk folks are easily excited or saddened, and can be set off at the smallest things.

Needing to pee (A first pee of the night is called "breaking the seal," as once your character breaks the seal, they will have to consistently pee after that)

Stumbling, unable to walk in a straight line.

Drunk characters can still act independently but should be accompanied by friends to make sure they don't do anything stupid. Drunkenness is sometimes described as puppeteering your body from the outside. Things slip and slide through your thoughts, unable to grab a hold and process one, and this can be exacerbated by flashing lights and loud music.

You still think, sure, but it's not cohesive or comprehensive. Your characters' thoughts will be more stimuli-driven than reason/contemplation-driven. This is why a drunk character cannot be trusted to make concrete decisions.

Stage 4: Blackout

If a character is blackout drunk, that means they've really surpassed their limit. Most of the time, blackout drunk people cannot function on their own, and must need assistance from their sober friends or their less-drunk companions.

The reason blackout drunk is called that is primarily because a character will not remember what happened the next day. In the moment they are thinking and talking (albeit in a limited scope), but when they finally sober up they will have no recollection of what they did or said.

Some symptoms of being blackout drunk include:

Confusion. A character may not know where they are or who they're with.

Exhaustion, at a high risk of passing out.

Needing assistance to stand or walk, or walking with severe staggering.

Horrible short and long-term memory

Slurred speech (although you may want to avoid writing out people slurring their words and instead use "s/he slurred" or some other indicator to make sure it's legible)

Vomiting

A blackout drunk character may put themselves in risky situations without knowing it, which is why they should be under supervision to make sure that nothing bad happens.

Stage 5: Hangover

Some people are blessed with no hangovers, but unfortunately the older your characters are, the more likely they are to get them. A hangover can really ruin your character's day-after, especially if they blacked out, although some pain relievers from over the counter should be able to help them out slightly.

Possible symptoms of a hangover from Mayoclinic.org:

Fatigue and weakness

Excessive thirst and dry mouth

Headaches and muscle aches

Nausea, vomiting or stomach pain

Poor or decreased sleep

Increased sensitivity to light and sound

Dizziness or a sense of the room spinning

Shakiness

Decreased ability to concentrate

Mood disturbances, such as depression, anxiety and irritability

Rapid heartbeat

Good luck to your character, because depending on how much they drank, it's gonna be a rough one.

3. How Do They Act?

Many people drink during parties in part to change their personality, especially if they tend to be shy while they're sober. While drunk, your character may have more fun than they would if they hadn't had anything, or may consider "lame" things exciting and interesting.

According to the University of Missouri's study of 374 undergraduates, there are four types of drunk personalities:

1. The Mary Poppins

These people are friendly when sober and remain friendly when they get drunk, perhaps getting even more affectionate and lovey. They won't really stir up any trouble and are usually quite amicable, albeit they have lowered inhibitions and decision-making skills.

2. The Hemingway

These people don't change too much when they're drunk. Their levels of intellect and self-discipline shift less than they do for others. Although they may feel the same effects, they may not outwardly show it as much as others do.

3. The Nutty Professor

These people are introverted when sober and extroverted when drunk. Shy, quiet people transform into the kings and queens of the dance floor or the most sociable partygoers you've ever met. They lose all inhibitions and tend to be loud and outgoing in a way that they most definitely weren't when they were sober.

4. The Mr. Hyde

These drunks are more commonly known as "angry drunks." While they're drunk, these people show significant decreases in agreeableness, intellect, and carefulness when they're under the influence. They're typically less responsible, less intellectual, and more hostile when drunk than when they're sober, and are the most likely to stir up trouble.

Hope this helped, and happy writing!

[tcm]

Pioneering Black Actors of Hollywood By Susan King

Clarence Muse and Rex Ingram by Susan King Thirty years ago, the legendary Oscar-winning actor Sidney Poitier reflected on the Black performers who paved the way for him in the Los Angeles Times: “The guys who were forerunners to me, like Canada Lee, Rex Ingram, Clarence Muse and women like Hattie McDaniel, Louise Beavers and Juanita Moore, they were terribly boxed in. They were maids and stable people and butlers, principally. But they, in some way, prepared the ground for me.”

Poitier prepared the ground for such contemporary Black actors and directors currently in competition during the 2021 awards season such as Regina King and Leslie Odom Jr. (One Night in Miami), Delroy Lindo (Da 5 Bloods), the late Chadwick Boseman and Viola Davis (Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom), Andra Day (The United States vs. Billie Holiday) and Daniel Kaluuya (Judas and the Black Messiah).

But it is imperative to remember the veterans from the 1930s-1960s who tried to break out of stereotypes and maintain dignity at a time when Hollywood wanted to “box” them in.

Clarence Muse 

Muse appeared in countless Hollywood films often uncredited. And as Donald Bogle points out in his book Hollywood Black, Muse spoke his mind to directors if he felt he was being pushed around or when his characters were stereotypes. Bogle stated, “At another time when Muse questioned the actions of his character in director King Vidor’s 1935 Old South feature SO RED THE ROSE, Vidor recalled that Muse was quite vocal in expressing his concerns. A change was made. Vidor could not recall exactly what the issue was, but he never forgot Muse’s objection.”

The 1932 pre-Code crime drama Night World screened at the 2019 TCM Classic Film Festival to a standing-room only crowd. The film stars Lew Ayres, Boris Karloff and Muse as the doorman at a club owned by Karloff. The audience was surprised that such a stereotypical role was anything but thanks to Muse’s poignant performance. Instead of being forced to be the comic relief, Muse’s Washington is a man worried about his wife’s surgery at a local hospital. Though his boss doesn’t treat him as an equal—after all it is 1932—Karloff’s Happy shows general concern toward Washington.

Muse, said Bogle, “also worked in race movies, where he realized there was still a real chance for significant roles and narratives.” One such was BROKEN STRINGS (’40), which he also co-wrote. It’s certainly not a great film, but Muse gives a solid turn as a famed Black violinist who wants his young son to follow in his footsteps. But the son wants to play swing with his violin.

Muse, who was a graduate of Dickinson College in Pennsylvania, also co-wrote the Louis Armstrong standard “Sleepy Time Down South.” In the 1920s, he worked at two Harlem theater companies, Lincoln Players and Lafayette Players, and 23 years later he became the first African American Broadway director with Run Little Chillun. He continued to act, appearing in Poitier’s directorial debut BUCK AND THE PREACHER (’72), CAR WASH (’76) and THE BLACK STALLION (’79) and was elected to the Black Filmmakers Hall of Fame in 1973. He died one day before his 90th birthday in 1979.

Rex Ingram 

Tall and imposing, Ingram had a great presence on the big screen and a rich melliferous voice. No wonder his best-known role was as the gigantic Genie in the bottle in Alexander Korda’s lavish production of THE THIEF OF BAGDAD (’40). Born in 1895, he began his film career in movies such as Cecil B. DeMille’s THE TEN COMMANDMENTS (’23). Ingram also has the distinction of playing God in THE GREEN PASTURES (’36) and Lucifer Jr. both on Broadway in 1940 and in the 1943 film adaptation of the musical CABIN IN THE SKY.

Ingram also brought a real humanity to his role as the slave Jim in MGM’s disappointing THE ADVENTURES OF HUCKLEBERRY FINN (’39), starring a miscast Mickey Rooney, who was way too old at 19 to play the part. Ingram, though, breaks your heart when he talks to Huck about how his dream is to earn enough money to buy his freedom so he could join his wife and child living in a free state. And when he runs away, Ingram explains to Huck why he had to flee the widow Douglas: “If one of them slave traders got me, I never would get to that free state. I would never see my wife, or little Joey.”

He also is superb in Frank Borzage’s noir MOONRISE (’48) as Mose Johnson, the friend of the murderer’s son Danny (Dane Clark), who lives in a shack in the wilderness with his coonhounds. Noble and thoughtful, Mose is the film’s conscience and helps guide Danny to do the right thing after he kills a bully (Lloyd Bridges) in self-defense.

Ingram was one of the busiest Black actors at the time and at one point even served on the Board of the Screen Actors Guild. But the same year MOONRISE was released, he was arrested and pleaded guilty for transporting an underage girl from Kansas to New York. He served a prison sentence and for a long time his career was derailed. He even lost his home. Though his film career was never the same upon his release, he worked in TV and on the Broadway stage, appearing in Beckett’s Waiting for Godot, and died in 1969 at 73 shortly after doing a guest shot on NBC’s The Bill Cosby Show.

Ernest Anderson 

Anderson never achieved the notoriety of Muse and Ingram, but the actor gave an extraordinary performance in the Bette Davis-Olivia de Havilland melodrama IN THIS OUR LIFE (’42) directed by John Huston. Born in 1915, Anderson earned his BA at Northwestern University in drama and speech. He was recommended for his role in the movie by Davis, who saw the young man working at the commissary on the Warner Bros.’ lot.

Anderson plays Parry, the son of the Davis-de Havilland family’s maid who aspires to be a lawyer. Davis’ spoiled rotten Stanley Timberlake gets drunk, and while driving she kills someone in a hit-and-run accident. Stanley throws Parry under the bus telling authorities he was the one driving the car.

Initially, the script depicted Parry in much more stereotypical terms, but Anderson went to Huston and discussed why he wanted to play the character with dignity and intelligence. Huston agreed. And for 1942, it’s rather shocking to see a studio film look at racism as in the scene where Parry tells de Havilland’s Roy why he wants to be an attorney:

“Well, you see, it’s like this, Miss Roy: a white boy, he can take most any kind of job and improve himself. Well, like in this store! Maybe he can get to be a clerk or a manager. But a colored boy, he can’t do that. He can keep a job, or he can lose a job. But he can’t get any higher up. So, he’s got a figure out something he can do that no one can take away. And that’s why I want to be a lawyer.”

Needless to say, such monologues were cut when the movie was shown in the South. Despite strong reviews for his performance, Anderson never got another role with so much substance. But he continued working through the 1970s and died in 2011 at the age of 95.

[stxleslyds]

MY TOUGHTS ON PART THREE OF RED HOOD BY CHIP ZDARSKY :)

A DC RENDITION OF THE SONG “MOTHER KNOWS BEST” FROM TANGLED.

Here I will leave the links to my reviews of Part 1 and Part 2

Well, here we are, three issues in this story of only six parts and i still cant tell if i like it or not. What i know for sure tho is that Zdarsky never read any Red Hood books, i had my suspicions but now i am at least 95% sure.

This Jason has been nerfed. We had a perfectly balanced Jason back in 2005 he was smart, skilled, confident and strategic. Then from 2011 to 2020 (let’s put the fact that Lobdell is trash aside for a moment) Jason was skilled, he had the whole “chosen one” thing going on with the all-castle, and in some moments you could even see him being quick witted and confident. But now in this first half of this story he is extremely insecure, his skill set and expertise is barely there and is presented as just reckless. 

The other day i was talking about how DC treats Jason, how they just can’t decide on who he is, what motivates him or what he wants. His personality is a whole ass mess, it was fine in 2005 and 2010 when Winick wrote him but then Lobdell from years 2011 to 2020 just couldn't decide what he wanted to do with Jason or his relationship with Batman and his rules. After Lobdell finally left Jason was passed around people who either only read Lobdell's work, or didn't read anything from him or didn't take into account Jason's life because their book was set in a future that may never happen. 

What i am trying to say is that Jason doesn't have a personality, and writers don't really add things to the Jason that we “know”, what they do is start his story from zero over and over again. There is no consistency to Jason's character and while you could argue that maybe this new start could be the definite version of Jason Todd/Red Hood i will point out that this nerfed version of him is a major disservice to the character that he was when he was brought back to DC.

It’s simply not nice. 

And in this particular issue the “Jason isn't that good at this whole vigilante gig” is even more pushed because of the whole “batman knows best” bullshit. I am not getting this (anthologies) book with a Red Hood story just for Batman to come in and be like “I am actually good at this job, you know nothing AND i have the moral high-ground”, this is NOT it.

If you are reading a Red Hood story chances are that you will be interested in Red Hood not Batman. 

Oh one more thing, Jason was an excellent Robin. He was kind, smart and skilled. I liked the flashbacks in UtRH because it showed Jason being all that but he also understood a couple of things about the kind of criminals that Gotham had, your common thug is easily scared of the concept of Batman but the dress-ups knew that no matter what they did the Bat would never kill them, that’s what Jason thought about criminals there.

This Robin Jason is treated rather poorly by Zdarsky at times, he feels insecure and inferior to Dick but he is also dismissive of him and the Robin mantle in the first issue, now in this one he is shown as way too reckless (which is kinda bad because it feeds into DCs favorite trope of “Jason’s death was Jason’s fault”) and his stance on “low level” criminals is weird, like it was made clear that drug related criminals are Jason’s biggest issue, thieves were not. 

Those are my general thoughts on this issue and the current state of Jason’s characterization. I have some panels from this issue that i want to talk about in more depth tho, so here we go. 

The issue stars were we left off once more, Tyler defends Jason and when Batman asks who he is Tyler says that he is the Blue Hood, that was really sweet of him, that child is adorable and he needs to be protected. 

Once the Bat distracts Tyler Jason tells the Bat that the man he killed was Tyler’s dad. 

There are a couple of things i want to point out from these panels, Jason feels incredibly guilty, not about killing Andy but about leaving Tyler in a situation that is similar to the one he was left in when his own mother died. He still believes that Andy was not a good man and deserved to be dead, after all he was drugging his own son and was the reason Tyler’s mom overdosed and is now in the hospital. It just hits incredibly close to home for Jason and i understand completely. 

The other thing i want to point out is that Jason says “I know your rules. No killing in Gotham” so, this is (to me) confirmation that Jason hasn’t killed in a long time and that he has been sticking to the Bat's rules (at least in Gotham). Andy (a drug-dealer) is the only person that Jason has killed since the events of UtRH (that are apparently canon in this story because it was mentioned in the first issue). 

Following this conversation the Bat says that he will take care of Tyler’s mother (yikes, i really thought in my last post that Jason was the one who would have tried to get her the help she needed, to me it seems more appropriate if Jason does it given that this is his story but what do I know) 

This is where this Red Hood story transforms into the Batman show.

Not only will Bruce take care of Tyler's mom but he will clean up the mess and shut down the making of the drug all by himself. Jason tells him that he will do it but the Bat tells Jason that if he wants to do it they will have to do it together because there is no way he is letting Jason out of his sight, he made a mess!

Yes, nothing like making the lead character look incompetent at his job. Love that for Jason.

Before the team up starts Batman and Red Hood go to Leslie's place to leave Tyler with her. This is a good moment only because there is a dog involved, well…Tyler, Jason and a dog are involved, best panel in the whole issue? I think yes.

Maybe I have a couple more panels that are my favs in this issue, here they are, a lil bit of positivity in this extra bitter post.

Now I will be honest, I hate Batman (Bruce’s Batman, love Dick Bats he was the MVP) so him saying that he is helping a Robin makes me want to shoot him. You are not helping; you are overtaking, as you do. Never a team player, the Batgod must always be the center of the show.

Back in the new cave Bruce talks to Jason about the drug and who he thinks might be behind it's production. He also makes sure to let Jason know that he is very smart and might be the only person outside of Crane's circle that knows how analyze a very unstable compound…weird flex but okay. He also teases Jason about his detective skills. Yay.

Flashback time! Get ready!

Robin Jason and Batman are at a crime scene and Jason doesn’t seem to be in the mood to play CSI: Gotham with Bruce.

At one moment Jason says “and then we will stomp the guy who did this” (“this” being murder), which makes Jim Gordon (who came to see if batman was done playing Sherlock Holmes) uncomfortable, so Batman tells Jason to wait for him. As Jason is going he sees someone acting suspicious.

Back to present day Batman and Red Hood are visiting the woman that created the compound that makes Fear Gas, the interrogation starts well but because this is the Batman show and Jason is bad at reading people and asking questions we have a scene that shows Jason being a bit too much.

I honestly thought that the first question was fair, but then after they leave the office they were in Batman basically goes on a rant about the things that Jason missed.

Ok, I get it Batman = good vigilante. Red Hood = Incompetent.

Zdarsky is honestly trying to make us believe that Jason hasn’t picked up any of those things, in his years as Robin with Batman AND Nightwing? They both taught him, there is no way Jason doesn’t know the basics of how to read people. Also do you guys remember Jason in UtRH and Lost Days? That guy read people perfectly, how is UtRH canon in this story, did Jason lose his skills in the explosion when he blew up the Joker?

As if that wasn’t enough Batman calls Red Hood reckless after they don’t agree on what to do next.

To this I say the following: Never again make me believe that Jason will willingly work with Batman. They don’t work together and neither are willing to meet each other halfway, even less let the other lead. This makes the idea of Jason following the Bat’s rules and him being part of the “Batfamily” the joke that it actually is.

They don’t work well together anymore; bring duality back to Gotham 2021.

Back in the past where the previous flashback is resumed we have Jim telling Batman that the new Robin seems a bit too rough around the edges. Did Jim ever meet Dick as Robin? I mean, don’t get me wrong, Dick was a sweetheart but he also beat criminals alongside batman every night. It just doesn’t feel like what Jason said was that much of a violent statement or anything, maybe I just don’t get it.

But don’t worry if you don’t get it, because we are shown Robin Jason going after that suspicious man, he is beating him asking if he knows anything about the murder or what exactly he was doing so close to the crime scene when Batman arrives. Through Batman we are told that that man was no longer a criminal, to which Jason says this, “…The guy is a jewel thief! He will always be a thief” and Batman responds “I refuse to believe that. Didn’t I meet you in the middle of stealing the Batmobile’s tires?”

I can’t believe Bruce went full “It’s over Jason. I have the moral high ground” on Robin Jason.

I mean Jason is OOC, we know this, but he has to be that way in order to make Batman look better when compared to a child. DC hates Jason Todd #Confirmed.

It kinda reminds me of that thing DC does with Dick and Barbara, Dick is skilled and smart as long as Barbara isn’t in the room, if she is then Dick will forget to check if there is someone inside his apartment and then be thrown across the room by her and then be told that he sucks at putting security in his living space.

Moving on...back to the present one last time Jason is interrogating a man while he dangles him from the edge of a building (did Dick teach him that? I bet he did.) After getting some information he calls Oracle so he can make sure that the place he is going to is safe. Oracle tells him the she will help him but she did not like the fact that the last time she helped him someone ended up dead.

Now, fair warning, Barbara and Jason big NO for me and after Geoff Johns and his antics in Three Jokers I have zero love for their “team-ups”.

Jason says this, 

Believing in him? Excuse me? Chonky, baby, she only helped you find a building.

All I can do at this point is pray to whichever god or whoever hears that this does not lead to Jason pinning for Barbara. We don’t need it (Barbara doesnt need it), I might be overreacting, I hope I am, but nobody wants that kind of drama right now, thanks.

When he arrives to the place he was looking for I think everyone can tell that it’s a trap, everyone but Jason apparently. 

How on earth does Jason not realize it’s a trap up until it’s too late? Are you joking? Is this a Red Hood story? Are we really doing this? Just how incompetent is Jason in Zdarsky’s eyes?

Freeze…is it Freeze? I don’t care but he is there, he freezes Jason and that’s the end of the issue.

Listen, I wish I could say that this is the worst Jason has been treated and that this book is horrible, I wish but I can’t. I can’t do it because this isn’t the worst characterization or book of Jason, this is still a pretty good story, could it be better? Yes.

I mean this story is written by someone who obviously doesn’t know Jason and that sucks but it still isnt the worst characterization and it messes me up. Three Jokers was worse than this, certain plot decisions in Future State: Red Hood were worse than this (in my opinion) and Lobdell’s New52 RHatO was pure trash (that is the worst book, just horrible please dont read it). 

I am saying this only to make it clear that even tho this issue was painful (mostly if you don’t like Batman) I still have hope that it can turn out to be good. I cant help it, i want and need this story to be good and there is still time for it to get better. 

Alright thats all i have to say, let me know what you thought about this issue and my review, bye!

[angerstagram]

monster among men // calum (SMUT)

boxer!calum

Pairing:  Calum + Y/N

Words: 4.6k

Rating:  X. For, you know, sex.

Description:  Calum is your long time boyfriend but he’s also a boxer. When his trainer says the two of you can’t have sex before the big match, you find that much easier said than done.

Warning: Oral sex, mentions of violence (for sport).

Author’s Note: I wrote this in one go and haven’t edited it!! Please forgive the typos. Stay tuned for a part two!

——————————————

Calum threw one last punch at the now well-abused punching bag, watching it swing slowly back and forth—toward him, then away, then toward him again—and wiped the sweat off his forehead. The air in the gym was thick with sweat and dirt as men all around him trained against sparring partners, trainers, or a giant bag of sand, like him.

His trainer, Sal, came up behind him and squirted some gatorade in his mouth before helping him remove his gloves. “That was great, Cal. Your form is better than 97% of the guys in here.”

Calum smirked. “My form is better than 100% of the guys in here and you know it, Sal.”

Sal smiled at Calum but refused to boost his ego. “Well your form isn’t gonna win you a belt, Cal. Not on its own. I need you to keep up your power all the way to the last punch.” Sal was talking excitedly with his hands now, throwing fake punches at the air as though it were 1987 and he was back in the ring.

“Don’t worry about my power, Sal. Just get me in the ring and I’ll take it from there.” Calum wiped the towel Sal handed him against the back of his neck and then over the planes of his chest where little beads of sweat had gathered.

“Alright, big shot.” Sal gestured his head toward the ring and Calum climbed in, letting Sal strap the gloves back on once he was inside.

Sal slid on a pair of punching mitts and held them in front of Calum’s face. “Focus on me, Cal. Right here.”

Calum started throwing punches and Sal met them every time. Every time Calum dropped his guard, Sal would take advantage and hit Calum in the face with a mitt until Calum’s cheek was red and starting to swell.

They went on like that for the better part of an hour, before Sal finally let Calum take a break at the edge of the ring.

“It’s that girl, Calum. She’s inside your head. It’s all well and good to get laid when you don’t have a belt on the line. But if you’re spending all your time thinking about what little date you’re gonna go on and picking up a nice bouquet of pansies or some shit, you’re head ain’t gonna be where it needs to be.”

Calum knew that Sal was trying to rip him up and make fun of him by playing on age-old stereotypes, but Calum could’t even hear him.

As soon as Sal mentioned flowers Cal could smell your perfume. He could feel your skin under his fingertips, the soft give of your hips as he squeezed them. It was as though you were standing right in front of him, his mouth pressing soft kisses to the nape of your neck as you worked in the kitchen. He was pulling your back to be flush with his chest, the shape of your ass pushing deliciously into his —

“You’re not even listening to me, are ya?” Sal’s voice cut into Calum’s reverie and suddenly he was whipped back into the gym.

“I get it, no girls before the match. I hear you, Sal.” If the guys wanted to believe that Calum was a womanizer who was bedding a different woman every night, he would let them. But he wouldn’t jeopardize this match for anything.

————————————————

Calum was really, truly planning on staying strong until his match. But then he got home and you were standing there wearing one of his cotton t-shirts, barefoot and swaying your hips in time to the music playing through the stereo. Everything smelled amazing, the food you had simmering on the stovetop, the candle lit on the coffee table, the summer breeze drifting in through the open windows.

He slipped off his shoes and padded into the kitchen while you faced away from him. He knew you didn’t hear him come in over the sound from the stereo, so he had the advantage as he walked up behind you and gave you a playful slap on the ass.

You nearly jumped out of your skin, dropping the spoon into the sauce you had been stirring and letting out a yelp. “Calum Thomas!” you explained, licking the sauce off your thumb where it had splashed when you dropped the spoon.

“Hmmm,” Calum let out a low hum as he nuzzled his face into your neck, just as he had imagined earlier. He let out a soft sigh, the sound of a man who was exactly where he wanted to be after a long day. “Hey, let me have a taste, too,” he murmured, turning your chin between his fingers and kissing you deeply.

You twisted yourself in his arms so that your back was to the stove and your chest pressed against his. You loved when he came home like this; worked up from a day of hard exercise, hair still wet from his shower at the gym, the muscles in his arm thick and corded under his t-shirt where you traced your fingers.

His mouth wandered down your neck, his open mouth warm against your pulse points. You were breathing heavier now and he knew it, pressing his palm against the small of your back and drawing you impossibly closer to him.

“So, um,” you tried to string a sentence together as the feeling of his lips on your skin scrambled your thoughts. “How was work?”

Your little joke passed over him without laughter, his focus unyielding. He was always so focused on whatever task was at hand that he often couldn’t see or hear the world around him. Times like this, that trait came in handy.

You laced your fingers through his wet hair and scratched softly at the back of his head, bringing his focus briefly back to reality. Calum raised his face to yours again and smirked against your lips. “Work was great, sweetie. And how was your day?”

Calum loved playing pretend like that. Pretend like you two were a normal couple; that he had a normal 9-5 job pushing papers behind a desk in a suit and tie and you drove a mini-van or some shit. A joke that made it seem in moments like this that he wasn’t in physical danger 95% of his day and you didn’t spend thousands of hours of your life scared that one wrong punch would be the end of him.

But you couldn’t think about that now, not when he was hooking his hands around the backs of your thighs and hoisting you over onto a clear spot of the counter. Not when he was standing between your open knees and pulling you closer to his chest again, his arms circling your back and his mouth hot and needy against yours.

His kisses were urgent and all-consuming, pulling the breath of you and energizing you all at the same time. You didn’t realize he had pulled your hair out of it’s ponytail until you felt it cascade down your back. He pressed a kiss behind your ear and bit it lightly, causing you to laugh at the aggression.

“What’s gotten into you, Hood?” you asked breathlessly, teasing him for his ability to go zero to ninety in 3.5 seconds. Something in the tightness of his back and the set of his jaw told you something was up, though. “At least let me turn off the sauce so it doesn’t burn.”

Now he was laughing at you, his chest rumbling against yours. “I’m doing some of my best work here, babe, and you’re thinking about the sauce?”

“I just don’t want it to burn! I’ve been building these flavors for an hour, Cal.”

He didn’t stop laughing, but humored you by reaching over and switching off the burners. “Happy now?”

“I’ll be happier when you tell me what’s going on,” you said softly as you rubbed circles against his shoulders in an attempt to loosen the muscles there.

He dropped his forehead against yours and pressed a light kiss to your lips. He knew he would have to bring it up sooner or later, but he didn’t think he would have to say it so soon. “I, um, well.” He rubbed his hand against the back of his neck as he searched for the words. “Basically, Sal thinks that we shouldn’t, um.”

You dipped your head, searching for his eyes. Trying to follow along with his train of thoughts going nowhere. “Sal thinks we shouldn’t what, Cal?”

“Sal thinks we shouldn’t be, um, romantic before the championship match.” Cal almost looked like he was blushing. For someone that was so confident and uninhibited while you were actually being romantic, he often had a hard time talking about it when you weren’t.

Your face was deadpan as you looked at him. “Sal says we can’t fuck before the match,” you paraphrased in an unenthusiastic voice.

Now he was definitely blushing, the color rising in his cheeks and spreading to his ears. “Um, well, yeah.”

“The match that’s in three weeks.”

“Uh huh.”

“Your trainer, a man who hasn’t had a wild night of passion in over a century, says that you and I cannot fuck for 21 days.”

“Yeah.”

“And that will do…what exactly? It will help your form?”

“No, my form is great, actually. It’s my power on the last punch that needs work,” Calum replied, genuinely not realizing that you were being sarcastic.

“Then why the fuck did you come in here and start kissing me like that, jackass?” You swatted at his shoulder and dropped your head to his shoulder, huffing at the injustice of it all.

Calum laughed at your frustration, rubbing calming circles into the small of your back again but you pushed against his shoulders.

“You really can’t touch me if you don’t want me to jump you right now, Calum.”

The look in your eyes made him see you weren’t really joking. Calum felt a sudden rush of conflicting emotions; half feeling guilty that he had done this to you, and half feeling proud that he had a girl who wanted him as badly as he wanted her all the goddamn time.

“I’m sorry. You’re right, love, I shouldn’t have done that. Maybe I wanted a little something to tide me over.” He was smirking now, leaning in to give you another kiss but you turned your head to the side in defiance.

He tossed his head back in defeat, taking a step back and throwing his hands up to signal that he wouldn’t pressure you.

But that’s not what you wanted, either. It was very confusing, really. He had worked you up and then left you high and dry, so you were just as much want and need and greed as you were angry and annoyed.

You grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him back against you, shifting forward on the counter. “If you want to tide me over, I’m gonna need a little more than that,” you said against his lips, sliding your hand down the front of his shorts and palming him over his underwear.

Calum groaned and bucked involuntarily against your hand before grabbing your wrist. “Baaabe, we can’t,” his voice almost a whine.

You slipped your hand back out of his shirt obediently and placed it back on his shoulders. “Fine,” you conceded. “I guess I’ll just have to go take care of myself. You can finish up dinner, right?”

Giving his shoulders a light push, Calum stepped back, surprised. You slid off the counter and began walking out of the kitchen toward your bedroom before feeling his hand grab your wrist. “C’mon, baby, don’t be like that.”

He pulled your wrist to turn you around, holding your hand to his cheek and pressing his mouth where it met your wrist. He held it there for what felt like forever, the worlds slowing down and your heart speeding up as you concentrated on the feeling of his lips against your palm. He was looking at you from under his criminally long lashes, all dark lines and tan skin with a single wet curl hanging over his forehead.

“We can do this, together, I’m sure,” he murmured into your skin. “Now can we please eat this beautiful dinner you’ve worked so hard on?”

Breathing in through your nose and blowing out through your mouth, you focused on both calming down and cooling down. You really wished this place came with a goddamn air conditioner.

“Fine. You make the salad.”

————————————————————

A week went by like that. The tension growing thicker each day. Waking up next to Calum and feeling the shape of his body against your back, your front, your legs twisted between each other’s or splayed like snow angels. No matter the position, you woke up hot, every inch of your scorching where it touched his.

It really shouldn’t be this hard. You had been celibate voluntarily or involuntarily, for months at a time not that long ago. You were an adult who could survive a simple 21-day stretch without sex.

But that was all before you met Calum. Before you had been with Calum; known the way his body could make yours feel. Before you knew the way he could play your body like a fine-tuned instrument, his every touch lighting a fire inside of you that threatened to melt you from the inside out.

And it was in moments like this, when the early morning sun was streaming in through the curtains and causing a cold yellow light to dance over his golden skin that you felt so acutely what he could do to you. You lay awake just staring at him. At his long, black eyelashes curling so beautifully over his closed eyes. His messy morning hair curling haphazardly over his forehead. His strong jaw line creating a line that led down his neck to the shape of his collarbone where it stood out over the swell of his bare chest.

His breathing was slow, the rise and fall almost lulling you back to sleep. But then he spoke. “You’re being creepy,” he murmurs without opening his eyes.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” you replied innocently, swiping his hair off his forehead and running your finger down his cheek to his jaw.

“Staring at me looking all sexy and asleep isn’t going to help your predicament, see cheeks,” he joked as he slowly came into consciousness.

“How do you do that without opening your eyes?”

He turned his face to press his mouth to the pulse in your wrist, one eye peeking open to stare at you in the morning light. “I’ll tell you one day.”

You curled into his side, setting your chin into his shoulder to stare at him up close. “I think I’ve been rather good, actually. I haven’t pressured you even once, even when I really wanted to jump your bones.”

He laughed, curling to face you on his arm, your bodies forming two parentheses barely overlapping each other under the mustard yellow sheets. “You’ve wanted to jump my bones, hmm?” He ran his hand down your back to your underwear, teasing the skin just under the hem of his cotton t-shirt that you had worn to bed.

“Of course,” you said, grabbing his hand and intertwining your fingers with his. “When you come home all sweaty from the gym in those short ‘80s shorts. How could I resist?” Your voice was joking but you really weren’t. Those were the times you really felt like no championship would be worth dying a slow, horny death.

“Well you’ve been very patient.” Calum pressed a kiss to your forehead. “How long has it been, anyway?”

“Eight days,” you replied too quickly.

Calum noticed your eagerness and laughed. “Eight days. Hm. I think you deserve a reward, don’t you?”

Your heart skipped a beat but you didn’t let yourself get your hopes up. Not after yesterday, when he had texted you I have a surprise for you when you get home ;) and you arrived home prepared to see a naked Calum covered in whipped cream or something….only to find him with an extra-large pizza from your favorite restaurant. Granted, that had been a pretty good surprise. But it didn’t change the fact that you only thought of him a tease with no action to back up his big talk.

“Oh I’m certain I deserve a reward,” you replied, giving him a playful slap on the ass.

“Whatever shall we do about that?” he whispered into your ear. Goosebumps rose everywhere his breath ghosted over you.

Calum rolled you onto your back, throwing his leg over your waist to rest his full chest against yours. Maybe you could get excited, after all.

He pressed small kisses against your neck, nipping at your skin to make you gasp. When you moved your hands to twist them through his hair he grabbed them and pressed them to the pillows above your head, twining your fingers together and making your breath come out unsteadily.

He kissed you deeply, the air leaving your lungs. Suddenly your entire body was nothing but a pile of unmitigated need, a live wire that sparked everywhere his mouth touched. And his mouth on yours made you feel like he was breathing your life into your lungs and pulling it back out all at the same time.

It was an effect no man had ever had on you before. The ability to turn you inside out like this. Was it because you were in love with him? So completely in love with him that it made the want and the need and lust and sex and love all mix up with each other in your mind until they were a single force driving you toward peak after peak.

And he had barely even gotten started. He had you pinned between his strong arms, the muscles in his bicep flexing as he held himself over you. He ground his pelvis into yours, your back arching to meet each delicious thrust. God, he hadn’t even really touched you yet.

Calum held himself above you to watch the effect his actions had on you. The way your eyebrows furrowed together as he rubbed against you. The way you shivered when he traced one finger up your arm and over the swell of your chest to cup your breast over your shirt.

“I feel like I’m in high school,” you murmured. “Dry humping my boyfriend while his mom watches TV in the living room.”

“My mom is here?” Calum looked over his shoulder as though he would find her standing right behind him.

You laughed and used his distraction to push him onto his back. “If we’re gonna do this, we’re gonna do it right.” You peeled his t-shirt off of you and threw it on the floor, immediately forgotten.

Calum drank you in above him, pupils blown out with lust, watching you closely to see what you would try to do next. His body looked relaxed but you knew that in reality he was like a predatory cat preparing to strike. That his lazy exterior could spring into action before you could realize what had happened.

Not wanting him to steal your pleasure from you, you acted before he could. First you slid your fingers down your panties and gathered some of the wetness that had grown there before rubbing your fingertips slowly over your clit. Your mouth pouted open into a gasp, reveling in the sensation, grinding harder as you chased that pleasure.

You slapped your other hand to his chest, your fingertips digging crescent moons into his bronze skin as you rolled your hips over your hand, and by extension, his growing erection.

Calum sat up suddenly. His face was still relaxed, but the speed with which he moved gave away how much your action had affected him. He pressed his chest flush with yours and kissed you hotly.

Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, he pulled your hand out from your panties and pressed your fingers into his mouth. His tongue laved slowly over your fingertips, drawing a long moan from you, the air between the two of you growing thick and electric.

“God, you’re killing me, Cal,” you moaned. He ran his fingers down to your hips again, digging into the flesh and rolling you against him. Back and forth, back and forth, rolling you quickly toward an orgasm thanks largely to how long it had been since your last one.

“Do you,” Cal pressed a kiss to the base of your throat, “do you touch yourself when I’m away?” Calum’s voice sounded genuinely quizzical, as though he were discussing the weather or asking you for directions.

“I, um.” Your brain was short circuiting as he pressed you harder and faster against him, your wet panties rubbing against your clit like a tongue. He pressed another kiss to your bare chest, nipping you just under your collarbone before taking a nipple into his mouth.

“Well? Do you?” He repeated, his hot breath causing you to shiver where it met your pebbled nipple.

“No. Um.” The screws were coming loose in your brain. Everything you wanted to do with him, do to him, were flashing over the inside of your eyelids as he drew you to your peak. “Not since, um, not since you said we couldn’t, oh god.”

Calum pulled away and you whined at the loss. He was looking at you intently, as though trying to judge if you were being serious. “You mean that?” He slid his hand down the back of your panties and slid one finger inside you easily. You gasped at how unexpected it was and moaned as he used that hand to pull you back and forth into the grinding motion he had you in before. “You really haven’t had an orgasm for over a week?”

“Yeah, I mean it,” your voice was increasing in pitch and your eyes were shut tight. “Fuck, Calum, don’t stop.”

But Calum did stop. At least, he stopped long enough to throw you onto your back and slide comfortably to rest his head just above your mound. “You’ve been an even better girl than I thought,” Calum praised, his voice still gravelly this early in the morning. “Now let’s see about that reward.”

Calum pulled your underwear off quickly and pressed his tongue flat against you, licking a thick stripe from your opening to your clit. You keened loudly, your back arching when he finally gave you what you needed.

He didn’t intend to tease you. He really did want to reward you for your patience. But it was just so much fun to watch you writhe and moan under him as he teased one finger around your opening and licked figure eights just below your clit.

You were panting as the air of the room pressed heavily against your skin. If fucking Calum was a religious experience, having him eat you out was like leaving earth and going straight to heaven.

“Fuck, Calum. I can’t.” You had been so close to your climax before you felt your mouth on you that your brain was disconnecting.

Finally, he took mercy on you. Diving in to eat you like his last meal. He slid one finger into you, just up to the second knuckle, pressing up against your front wall as he flicked his tongue against your clit.

You bucked up into his face and he didn’t even bother holding you down, just tucked one arm under your thigh to steady himself before shoving two fingers into you up to their base.

He pumped his fingers into you steadily, pressing his tongue flat against you. He alternated his pace, pumping faster when he slowed his tongue and flicking his tongue quickly when he slowed his pumps.

“Oh my god, Calum. Fuck, I—,” you blubbered as your soul left your body. You curled your legs over his shoulders, your thighs shaking as you sprinted towards the high you were both chasing. All the want you had built up for a week had created an ache stronger than you even realized, and the beginning of your orgasm was like stretching an atrophied muscle. “Goddamn it that feels so fucking good.”

When he knew you were going to fall over the edge, Calum slowed his tongue and hooked his fingers to press firmly against your g-spot. He tapped them rapidly against that spot as he sucked your clit into his mouth.

A tear rolled down your cheek as you reached your peak. You clamped your knees against his ears, locking him in place as you finally fell over the edge. Your entire body shook as the orgasm rolled from where his fingers still tapped inside you out to your fingers and down to your toes.

Even as you reached your peak he didn’t stop, pumping his fingers and scissoring them to rub against every wall, running his tongue over you until there wasn’t a nerve left below your waist that he hadn’t annihilated.

It was like his fingers were fucking the air right out of your lungs. Connecting the two of you and unraveling you all at the same time.

“C’mon, baby. I know you’ve got another in you.”

And he was right, really. Except it wasn’t exactly a second orgasm as it was a second wave of the first that had never stopped. He stayed like that for a long time, never letting you come down, pulling one after another from you until you had to shove his face away.

He kissed his way back up your body, holding his hand still against your mound as you came down, its warmth soothing as your body shook.

Finally he pressed his mouth against yours and you could taste yourself. You didn’t have the energy to kiss him back. Your lips just hung open as your breath came out in small pants. He rolled over onto his side and pulled the sheet over both of you.

“You are really fucking good at that,” you said finally, flinging the back of your hand against his chest.

Calum nuzzled his nose against your ear, pressing a kiss to your jaw. “Only the best for my girl,” he laughed, taking the compliment in stride.

You glanced down at the tent in the sheet where it lay over his waist. “Just, uh, just give me a minute. I’ll get right on that.” You gestured lazily toward his obvious erection.

“No, no. Today was about you.” Calum rolled you so that he was spooning you and ran his hand over the back of yours, twisting your fingers together. “I still need to wait until after the match.”

He pressed a kiss to the back of your neck and breathed slowly through his nose to try and bring his own body temperature down. Your thoughts were becoming coherent again.

You turned your head to look at him, really look at him. You kissed him deeply, trying to convey to him the feeling that had overwhelmed you. “I love you, Calum. So goddamn much.”

He smiled but he didn’t laugh. The light danced in his eyes where they crinkled at the corners. He kissed you again and brushed his nose against yours. “I love you, too. Now go back to sleep.”

[rayslittlekitten]

Tumblr Writer Q&A

Written by @make-me-imagine tagged by @a-reader-and-a-writer and @green-socks. Thanks for the tag!

1) How many complete fics/one shots do you have(that you have not published (Yet)? Lol none.

2) How many WIPS do you have right now? Uhh... too many. I would say about 18 active WIPs that I've been juggling and rotating and like 10-15 other ones where I've temporarily abandoned or have only written out or fleshed out the idea but haven't quite started actually writing yet.

3) Do you take writing requests or write original ideas, or both? I mostly only write original ideas. I've taken requests before on and have delivered some. I still have like two requests I got ages ago and I am so so sorry for the people who sent in those requests. Inspiration for them still has not hit.

4) If you do take requests, how many do you currently have? I think two.

5) How many fandoms do you write for? Mainly Charlie Hunnam, but specifically Sons of Anarchy, The Gentleman and Triple Frontier. I've sort of dabbled in some of his other projects in like drabble form. I've generally written for Triple Frontier (specifically for Benny and Frankie). I am open to other fandoms as long as I feel familiar enough with it and comfortable.

6) Are there any fandoms you wrote for in the past that you no longer write for? I use to write Backstreet Boys and The Fast and Furious fandom a long long time ago.

7) Do you write for ships, reader inserts or other? Back in the day I wrote for ships and OCs. Reader inserts weren't a thing back then (yes, I'm old AF) and since coming back to the fanfic scene, I've learned reader inserts are more popular so I had adjusted to it and now like 95% of the stuff I write are reader inserts, but I think I'm going to convert back to third person with OCs, particularly with series. Hindsight is 20/20 and there are many fics where I realized too late that reader insert should have been an OC.

8) Niche fandoms/characters you write for? I don't particularly have any. I mean, I guess the oddest one I've technically written for is "Kitchen Confidential" but that was a drabble request.

9) Do you read fics as well as write them? Yes! It's actually how I got back into the fanfic world. I was looking for some very specific kinds of fics and did a google search and stumbled upon @hotdamnhunnam and I hit gold. At the time I had started writing again for myself especially since I couldn't quite find exactly what I was looking for and I was inspired to start posting my own fics.

10) What is your favorite genre to write for? I can't really say I have a favorite. I kind of fluctuate between smut, fluff, comfort and angst. A good chunk of my stuff are smutty, but I need a balance and I just go with where my mood takes me.

11) What is your favorite trope (to read/write)? I've recently realized I write a lot of friends to lovers. I don't know if it's a trope, but I also write and read fics with BDSM elements.

12) What do you do to get motivated to write? I don't really get myself motivated to write. It's when I'm in the mood, then I write. Sometimes I do need a bit of a boost and rely a lot on music especially if there is a particular song that inspired an idea.

13) Is there a trope/genre you like to read, but not write? I can't think of any off the top of my head. Well, actually, I don't particularly look for mlm fics, but I'll read it. However, I don't feel comfortable enough to write it. I just don't think I'd ever do it any justice. There's this Brothel Boy Arthur fic idea I've had for a while involving Arthur and a male John, but I'm not very confident it will come out well.

14) Any characters/fandoms you want to write for that are never requested? No. If there is something/someone I really want to write for, I just write it.

15) How long have you been writing fan fiction? Like since the very first time I've eve written fanfic no matter how terrible it was? Probably since... 1998? But I had like a near 20 year hiatus and started back Spring of 2021.

16) Did you read fan fiction before you started writing? No. I actually started writing fanfiction before I knew what fanfiction was. Pen and paper and shared it with my cousin. We would co-write.

17) Do you only post on Tumblr, or any other sites as well? My current stuff I also post on AO3. My The Fast and the Furious stuff is living on FFN.

18) What do you personally consider the work counts of "Drabble", "One shots" and "fics"? My understanding of a drabble is exactly 100 words. Some people classify it differently, like a short snippet, which is fine. One shots to me are just literally one shot. There's no sequel, prequel or spin off. One time thing. Fics to me encompass all types of writing.

19) Which do you prefer to write more? HC, drabbles, oneshots/fics, multi chapter stories, other? I have found a new appreciation for drabbles lately (even though they are longer than they should be 😬). Most of my stories start as one-shots, but after I post them, I either get requests to continue it or I get another idea and they turn into multi-chapter fics. Only one or two of my multi-chapter fics were started with multiple parts in mind.

20) Are there any stories you have discontinued? If so, why? Even the stories I've wrapped up, it's never truly discontinued. You never know, an inspiration might hit and I continue it or write a little snippet from that story.

21) What is one of your main "pet-peeves" as a writer on Tumblr? Feedback is much appreciated but when it's criticism that's not constructive, I don't see the point.

"This character is flawed!" Okay, yes, they are supposed to be. Thank you for pointing that out the obvious?

"This smut reads like it's written by a 14 year old virgin." Smut is not easy to write and it might actually be a 14 year old virgin writing it (which obviously they shouldn't be), but I've been that 14 year old virgin attempting to write really bad smut before, but we all start somewhere, right? It doesn't hurt to be kind.

(Also just FYI, none of those examples above were things said to me)

Also policing what people write is problematic. People have their reasons to write what they write regardless of how uncomfortable it may make you and they don't own you any explanation. You have the ability to curate your of feed and block certain tags or people so you don't see that kind of content. I'm not sure what shaming people for what they write would accomplish other than wasting their time.

22) Do you write a particular time of day? Nope. Just whenever inspiration hits.

23) Do you listen to music, ambiance/noise, etc to write or do you need silence? It depends on the fic but music helps me a lot.

24) Do you outline your fics at all before writing? Sometimes I do especially if it's a bit more elaborate.

25) Do you post your writing as soon as you finish it, or do you schedule it to come out at a specific time/day? Basically as soon as I finish it because I'm impatient but I've been trying to be better about it. The TF Xmas series was the only one where I wrote the entire thing and waited and scheduled it to release it spread out during December.

I won't tag anyone but whoever wants to do this can.

[bondsmagii]

This is definitely one of the… wilder stories here, but as always, I suppose people will believe what they will. 

This will unfortunately require some backstory, but I guess you could say the long and the short of it is that I played at being God, and it. Well. Kind of sucked, actually.

So, the backstory. I’ll try to keep it brief. I grew up in a small country village about forty-five minutes away from Belfast, Ireland. There wasn’t much going on there, as you could imagine – just a standard rural Irish town, where the most exciting thing that might happen in a week was old Farmer Joe getting a new tractor or something. Anyway, I’m not sure how many of you know about Ireland’s rather troubled past, but for the most part I missed all that. I was born around the time things were finally settling down, and while my earlier memories are filled with bomb scares and low-flying helicopters and gunshots in the night, the distant sound of shouting and the acrid smell of smoke burning a little too close for comfort, by the time I hit my teenage years most of it had wrapped up. Of course, there was the occasional scare here and there, and I’m not saying my friends and I didn’t go out looking for trouble once we were old enough, but it wasn’t the same. I’m not saying that out of a sense of, I don’t know, regret or annoyance or anything. Now I’m older, I’m not so enamoured by the idea of that much violence. I’m just saying it wasn’t really a patch on the kind of violence that used to happened there – the kind of violence that fascinated my friends and I so much. It sounds bad, but really we were just kids being kids. Little boys everywhere play at war games. It just so happened that the war we were playing had happened in our own country. It’s difficult not to be obsessed, when you see the reflection of history on the faces of every generation around you. Even slightly older siblings would know all about it – it wasn’t something you asked your grandfather, distant war stories over some vague European country that you’ve only seen on a map in your Geography classroom. This was our street corners, our high streets, the road outside the house. Here the grass verge at the side of the road where the bodies were dumped; there the lay-by where over a dozen people were blown to pieces. It was awful, but we were children. We were enamoured.

Anyway. The only violence we got really involved in was the summer rioting that happened yearly, like clockwork. It sounds like a joke, but that’s how it goes. You don’t need to know the details, but suffice to say in mid-July every year, the city would light up like we were back in the 1970s. Localised, of course, and still nowhere near as drastic as it used to be, but enough to get a taste. Petrol bombs. Police lines. Armoured cars. Water cannons. Unrestrained summer fun, you could say. But that’s for a bit later.

I’m a writer. I have been since I was four years old. Generally speaking I’m a horror writer, but I’ve branched into historical fiction a fair bit over the years. Living in Ireland, growing up how I did, it was inevitable that I would develop a fascination for Irish history. I was always a very curious child, my head in books, chasing up stories that would keep me awake at night. I never knew any boundaries. I would go after answers with military precision, asking questions, going places I shouldn’t. Dangerous for anyone, of course, but in a country like mine, where crossing the road could quite literally lead to your murder? It was reckless. I was reckless. But that’s the thing about being that age. You think you’re invincible. You think you can do anything.

I was about fourteen or fifteen, at the height of this obsession. I believe I was fifteen when I wrote this particular story, but it’s difficult to say. It was part of a series, and I was going back and forth on it and other projects for many years. Here we finally get to the point of the whole story: I had developed an obsession with Irish history, as I said, and specifically the more “modern” history – from 1916 onwards, the Easter Rising, the War of Independence, all that. I was fascinated by the Irish struggle for freedom, and while age and hindsight has lessened my… enthusiasm for the violence, I do maintain a strong opinion towards the whole thing, which is not the point here so I won’t get into it. What I’m trying to say is that my stories reflected this enthusiasm, and were undoubtedly glorifying in nature, and also at that age I was more concerned with living the fantasy than doing the research, so it was all very self-indulgent. I’m sure anyone who wrote at that age knows what I mean.

My main character… well. I’m sure you know what to expect. He was—well. Me, really. In the way of all main characters at that age, and perhaps a little even as we get older, there’s a piece of us inside all our main characters. Sometimes a little piece, other times just a cooler and more badass version of yourself. Michael was that for me. I suppose that must is obvious; I wasn’t even trying to be subtle. My name is of course Miceál, which for those of you keeping track is the Irish form of Michael. I’m just grateful that I didn’t go as far as to give him my last name, too, but everything else was there. He looked like me, he held the same views and beliefs as me, he acted like me – or at least, he acted in the ways I liked to think I’d act, or how I imagined acting later that night in the shower, reliving the scenario again. He was the best kind of self-insert character, indulgent and fun and a good friend to me. I poured a lot of myself into him. I poured everything into him. He was a constant companion, something that became ever more important to me as my real life—well, went to shit. To put it mildly. I would sit in my room writing my stories, and Michael would go out there and fight the good fight, killing and bombing for good old Ireland, and then I’d shut my computer down and go to sleep feeling just a little better than otherwise.

I’m not afraid to say that I can be obsessive. I like to get into the heads of my characters; I like to know them as well as I know everything. Yes, Michael was me, but he was also a version of me who had done things I have never done. Sometimes I would try to imagine myself as him; wonder what it was like to see through his eyes. Wonder what a me who had done that would look like. Wonder what he would do in a situation. I asked myself that a few times; a lot of times. What would Michael do? I could have put that shit on a wristband. I didn’t think anything of it at the time. I’ve always been a bit of a method writer like that. It was normal, until it wasn’t.

I first saw Michael on a hot July day, in Belfast. What we call the rioting season had come around; my friends and I were there to take advantage. Just at the sidelines, mind you – nobody wants to get a face full of water cannon, even on the hottest of days. Michael was in the thick of it though. Of course he was. I’d written him to be that way.

I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. At first I thought I must be seeing things, but the more I looked the more I realised he looked exactly like me. Only he was a little taller, a little fitter, and his hair looked different. His clothing was different, too; perhaps a couple of decades out of date, but looking at him I saw his clothing didn’t remain consistent. The changes were subtle – material, tone – but I noticed. Looking back, I assume it’s because I never did give a specific date for his story to occur in. Well, wherever he was from he was there now, throwing rocks with the best of them, skipping from stone to stone and hurling them at police lines with an easy swing that could only come from years of practise. When we had all finally cleaned out the area – soldiers coming, a helicopter, the kind of trouble you don’t want to toy with – I managed to catch up with him. He was talking to my friends. They noticed we were both there, but didn’t seem to realise we were two different people. The whole time we were all talking, I couldn’t take my eyes off of Michael. I tried, because I knew how obvious I was being, but I just couldn’t. I couldn’t work him out. I couldn’t even trust that’s what I was seeing. And the whole time, Michael watched me back. I knew the look in his eyes. It was his smug little, I know something you don’t know look. Of course I knew it. I had made him like that. I had given him that look.

I didn’t see him for some time after that. Believe it or not, I put it out of my head. I mean, come on. It was probably some other guy that my friends knew. We were in Belfast enough, and Michael isn’t exactly an uncommon name. I put it out of my mind, but I was sure that sometimes, I saw him. I was sure I’d see him in Belfast, ducking down side streets or leaning in close conversation with someone I couldn’t make out. He was always watching me. Sometimes I’d feel eyes on me and know it was him, but when I looked around I wouldn’t spot him. On some occasions – and these were always the worst – I would feel his eyes behind my own. Like he was on the inside looking out, moving independently in there, a set of eyes swivelling around over my own. It happened most often when I was trying to write his story. As you can imagine, I was nervous to do so. The more I thought I saw him, the less I wanted to write, but I didn’t think that was a good idea either. I didn’t know what to do.

It was a sunny weekend just before school started back after summer that I finally resolved to do something about it. I didn’t even feel stupid as I booted up my old Windows 95 desktop and opened Word. Michael’s story was there, in 12-point font as I always wrote then, plenty of enthusiasm but a lot less technical skill. My fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment, and then I typed.

Hello?

Nothing, of course. I deleted the word, wondering what I had expected. Feeling a little stupid now, I tried to think about where to go with the story. It was difficult to write now I had some kind of real person to assign to it all – what were the ethics here? How could I—

I won’t get into that. It would be a philosophical essay all of its own. I sat for a while wondering what to write, and then it hit me that the story had changed. The words Michael had spoken, in the paragraph that I had left off – they were no longer the words I had written. I forget what the original words were now, but they were something relatively simple; some response to another character, and I remember that another name was mentioned in it – the name of Michael’s in-universe best friend, Eamon. Now that name was gone, and the rest of the text had changed, too. Now the writing read something different entirely.

I thought you wanted to know?

I lied earlier. I said that age and experience and perhaps some more emotional maturity had led me to turn away from the kind of violence that fascinated me so much then, and I have no doubt that under normal circumstances it would have done. I had somewhat of a speed run, however; I turned my back on it because

I’m getting ahead of myself.

I had often wondered what it would be like to do what Michael did, of course. To kill and risk death for a cause, to face down prison, torture, exile. I had wondered what it would be like to commit those acts; how easy or difficult it would be to pull a trigger or push a detonator. I liked to think, in my foolish, idealistic teenage mind, that if it came down to it I could. Of course, I was in the very privileged position to not have to actually answer that question.

Michael, on the other hand, knew. And Michael was, if not me, than a product of me. Could it be possible that he could show me?

I ignored the message for several days. I didn’t know what to think. Truth be told I thought I was going mad. School started again and I got so busy that I almost, almost forgot about it – and then I opened the document by mistake one day, got into reading it over, laughing at my brilliant comebacks, you know how it is. And there it was again.

I thought you wanted to know?

Yes, I remember thinking. It stunned me – I remember that. I didn’t want to mess with this kind of stuff – I’ve always been a huge believer in the paranormal, always been cautious when it comes to fucking with that kind of stuff. I believe that magic like this, it requires intent. It needs you to be sure. It knows how you feel, true in your heart. So even when I ignored it again, even when I deleted the words and re-wrote whatever the original had been, even as I didn’t reply… I knew in my heart that my question had been heard by something. I could feel Michael’s eyes on me again, though now I wondered if it was Michael’s eyes, or something else entirely. It felt like a weight. Have you ever been in an old, old place, where you can practically feel the people who lived and died there; reach out and touch them? It felt like that. Like the weight of history was pressing down on me. I didn’t fall asleep easily that night, but when I did sleep was dark and endless.

I don’t know how long I spent in that state. In reality it was only seven hours; I woke up with my alarm. In that time period, wherever I was – because I was not living – I seemed to witness a hundred different lives. Over the course of Michael’s story I had him do all kinds of things; live all kinds of situations. I deleted things, changed others, added things in. I wrote what would now be called alternate universes. In that night I experienced them all. I know how it feels now. I know how it feels to pull a trigger; to watch the spray of someone’s life splatter a wall or a windscreen or the screaming backseat passengers of a car. I know how it feels to push the button, the one that sends a charge surging down a wire or flickering out over my head in an invisible wave of death, notifying the bomb, detonating the explosives. I know how it feels to sit in a hotel bar across a border, listening to the news, sipping a drink and feeling my heart beat in my chest as I add more numbers to the tally, more blood to my hands. I know how it feels to be shot, to be beaten, to watch a friend die, to kill someone who used to be – who still is, despite everything – a friend. I know how it feels to cough blood into my hands, onto the ground; to grip a wound that won’t stop bleeding; the blinding flash of an explosive detonating too soon and how the whole world seems to roar and how there’s a difference between the thud and slap of wet mud hitting the ground and the warmer, denser rain of something that used to be human. For days, weeks, years – I walked in Michael’s shoes, I lived his life, I committed every act.

I felt his pain. His fear. This hellish world that he lived in, created to kill and die and lose and fear, over and over. To meet his God and to finally, finally ask – why?

And what could I say? Because I wanted to know?

Well. Now I do.

[vantaenims]

anemoia | jungkook

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: futuristic au | fluff, mystery

word count: 11.7k

warning/s: mentions of death and a bit of a make out session (oh my).

summary: It’s a well known fact that a person only dreams about people they’ve already seen in their life but how come you’re dreaming about someone you’ve never seen before, someone who is probably a person your subconscious created, and someone that continues to only exist in your dreams.

Part of BTSGhostieBingo (futuristic!au prompt)

masterlist

all rights reserved © vantaenims - do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

--

According to a study, as much as 95% of all dreams are quickly forgotten shortly after waking.

Reverie is a helpful device where you can securely store your dreams and archive them by syncing the device through the Reverie Application. With other built-in features, you can now customize how your dream works by choosing your desired location and inputting any character you want to appear in your dream.

With Reverie, you can build your own dreams.

You slid the switch to turn on the device and a blinking blue light is now visible on it’s side though it was only for a moment as you successfully paired the device with your phone and the application. 

As usual, you registered for an account and input the required necessary information but what piqued your interest the most are the so called built-in features like the location where you can choose from various choices like beach, urban city, garden, festivals, etc. and lastly, the characters, wherein you should input a picture of a person that you like to appear in your dream.

This is the reason why you’re so keen in purchasing Reverie because it’ll be the only way you can actually see your late mother in limitless ways. You barely remember your memories with her since she passed away from Ovarian Cancer when you were only four - an age where memories can be pretty hazy.

You can only remember her through pictures and stories your father has told you so it’ll be a joy to at least watch your dreams with her in it or perhaps watch the memories you’ve invented.

Spreading the covers, you soon get in your bed as you ready yourself to sleep, clicking the Reverie app to choose your location in a garden and clicking the picture of your mother you uploaded a while ago as your character.

You placed your phone on your nightstand as soon as you finalized your dream customization, putting the Reverie device on your temple while you managed to lay down on your bed, tapping the circle device as you close your eyes until you can finally sleep and dream.

All you could see are stars in the wide vast dark sky, they’re so clear and bright since there are no clouds to cover them for tonight but you could definitely feel most the cold wind of the night enveloping you though you could feel the warmth of the person next to you - your mom.

“How are you, my dear?” you turn your head to the side to see your mom plucking some leaves around the stem of a red rose, “You’ve grown to be such a beautiful lady.”

You were suddenly hit with a surge of overwhelming emotions, thinking how the moment feels so vivid and real like it’s really taking place right now though you’re fully aware that this is only projection of your subconscious.

“You look perfect just like what dad told me” you smiled as you got the red rose from your mother’s hand, twirling it to examine it’s petals.

“How old are you now?”

“I’m turning 23 this year” you held your mother’s hand that was right by your side, squeezing it as you moved closer to rest your head on her shoulder, both laying down in the middle of the garden to stargaze.

“Ten years from now you’re gonna be the same age as me”

“Aren’t you like 52 now just like dad?” you peered up at your mom but then surprisingly, she looks too young to be in her early fifties.

“The dead doesn’t age, dear” your mom chuckled as she kissed your forehead whilst she pointed her fingers towards the sky, “We’re all up there amongst the stars where i constantly watch you from above”

“Heaven does exist?” you said like a curious child.

“I suppose so but you see that little twinkling star right there?” you nodded as you listened attentively to what more she could say, “I’m always right there.”

“Can i look at that star whenever i feel lonely?” 

Your mom warmly smiled, grabbing the rose from you as she broke the stem to make it shorter, placing it right behind your ear whilst she thread her fingers soothingly along your hair to fix it.

“You can and not just when you’re lonely but whenever you feel happy or whatever it is you feel. I’ll always be here for you, my dear.”

You woke up not too long after your mother had said that which instantly made you feel better though you felt like the dream’s too short and only happened in a span of five minutes but then time seems to be irrelevant when you’re dreaming since it’s clearly morning now and it has been seven hours since you slept.

So far, you could say that the Reverie delivered and met your expectations. The dream was lucid and felt so realistic which happens to be true to what the device promised though they have warned that the flow will not be consistently like that as it’s in the nature of our dreams to be purely irrational and weird which something the company is trying to eliminate by continuous extensive research.

You start your day ahead with a wide smile on your face, feeling exquisitely happy that you got the chance to spend time with your mother even though it’s just a dream but if it’s the only way you could get to be with your mother then that’s what matters.

--

You rung the doorbell of the veterinary clinic which is the place you’re working for as a receptionist - a job you took since you’ve gotten practically bored being unproductive halfway into your gap year so might as well apply for a job that doesn’t require much work plus you figured that it’d be fun since you’ll get to be around lovely dogs and cats all day long.

“You’re early” you smiled back at Hoseok who happens to be the veterinary doctor and the owner of the clinic, so practically he’s your boss though he’s rather much of a friend to you given how he’s just a few years older from you.

“Good morning”, you said, “Is Jimin still not here?”

Jimin is also a veterinary doctor much like Hoseok but he’s acting more of an assistant doctor in this clinic.

“He bought some pastries down the bakery” you nodded as you settled yourself inside your booth, opening the computer to check the appointments scheduled for today in the spreadsheet until you noticed Mickey - Hoseok’s Shih Tzu dog - sitting on the floor right beside your feet, staring up at you.

“Hello, Mickey”, you spoke in a little voice as you picked him up and placed him in your lap to pet him, noticing how he’s wearing a new striped shirt, “You have new clothes, hm?”

The chimes attached to the door rang as you see Jimin entering the clinic whilst he rummages around the paper bag he’s holding until he holds out what seems to be like cheese bread to you.

“I got this for you,” Jimin said as he placed the cheese bread and iced coffee on your desk, “And for you” also giving the same thing to Hoseok.

“Thank you Jimin but you don’t have to” 

“Eat up besides all the pastries in the bakery today are buy two, get one” Jimin sweetly smiled at you, leaning one of his elbows on top of your desk as he took a bite off the cheese bread. 

“What’s the schedule for today?” Hoseok asked as he joined Jimin, also leaning against your desk.

“Ms. Nam Chung Hee scheduled an annual booster shot for her two dogs at 2 p.m.” you said as you read out through your computer.

“Does she already have a record here?” 

“Yeah, I checked yesterday” you spun your chair to rack through the filing cabinet, taking out the folder with the client’s name on it as you handed it to Hoseok. 

You set down Mickey on the floor as you stood up to grab the remote of the television from your desk, turning it on and setting the channel to National Geographic for the guests to watch in the waiting area.

With nothing else to do, you sat behind the reception desk as you took out your phone to go to the Reverie app, thinking it’d be best to kill time whilst you watch your dream from last night. You plugged in your earphones to your phone, putting only one piece of it to your right ear just so you could still be aware of your surroundings.

Clicking on the video dated yesterday, you instantly saw the familiar starry night sky though you could already tell that the video quality is bad but not bad enough that you can’t make it out - it’s more of like a 144p video, it’s not like you could complain though as Reverie is said to be still up for improvement.

Despite how blurry it is, you smiled as soon as your mother’s face appeared on your screen, listening back to your conversation on how she’s the little twinkling star on the sky but then you were disrupted when you heard the door chimes, causing you to remove your earphones and placing your phone back to the desk.

“Hi, i scheduled yesterday a booster shot for my dogs”

“Ah yes, you must be Ms. Nam?” you asked as she nodded her head to confirm, thinking that she’s a few hours early from an appointment but it’s not like a problem at all considering you don’t have any clients or customers yet to attend to.

“Can I have your dog’s vaccination cards please?”

You prompted her to sit in the waiting area for a while as you wrote down the information on your records that you have detached from the folder to put it in a clipboard along with the vaccination cards, reading out the name of the two Maltese dogs - Blossom and Bubbles.

“Here are their records, I'll be calling Hoseok” you handed the clipboard towards Jimin who just got out of the bathroom right in time as you were about to call him and Hoseok.

“Dr. Park will assist you for a while” you said before you disappeared to go to Hoseok’s office, knocking your knuckles against the door before you peered your head inside to inform Hoseok that Ms. Nam had arrived for her appointment.

“Oh it’s the Powerpuff dogs, Blossom and Bubbles” Hoseok exclaimed as he read out their names in the record that Jimin handed to him, petting the dogs who are now placed in the metal table.

“Y/N, can I have one of those record sheets? There are only two lines left for me to write in here” you looked back to see that Jimin had followed you on your way back towards your desk.

“Is there a Buttercup?” you asked as you handed Jimin a blank record sheet. Jimin was confused for a moment until he catched on to what you are referring to.

“Ah no, she said she’ll save that name for when she gets another dog” Jimin smiled and raised his eyebrows at you before he went back to the room to assist Hoseok.

You sat down as you put back the folders of records you got out from the filing cabinet, unaware that you started to subconsciously hum to the song Build Me Up Buttercup by The Foundations.

--

You sat on one of the benches under the waiting shed, taking out your phone to watch again the clip of your dream but before you could even unlock your phone, the sound of the bus doors opening caught your attention. Coincidentally, it happened to be your bus hence you stood up to enter inside, choosing the seat at the far right end, continuing the video once you’ve sat yourself comfortably.

As you got yourself comfortable, you then started to watch your dream and you think you don’t mind replaying it all day long, still finding the whole thing impressive. You can’t help but feel excited for the memories and moments  you’ll build in the future with your mother, not minding a bit that it’ll be artificial.

Surprisingly, you arrived at the bus stop near your home earlier than usual, thinking that you must’ve avoided the rush hour since Hoseok decided to close the clinic twenty minutes early from it’s closing time since there are not much clients after Ms. Nam’s appointments, just the usual customers who are buying pet foods are coming to the clinic.

You managed to stop by a convenience store first to buy two pints of salted caramel ice cream for you and your dad whom you’re still living with since you promised to him that you’ll not be moving out anytime soon unless you get married that is. You were an only child so ever since your mom died, it was only you and your dad.

“Dad, I’m home” you left your shoes at the door mat, slipping on to your slippers as you directly went to the dining room upon whiffing something savory once you entered the door.

“Oh you’re right in time, i just finished preparing the smoked salmon” your dad said, placing the plates on the table. 

“It looks delicious”, you eyed the salmon which is plated and designed elegantly, making it such a fine piece of meal with the presentation alone, “and it tastes one too.”

Your dad works as an executive chef for a five star hotel in Seoul which makes you lucky since you got to taste their premium menu specialties and other delicacies for free once in a while, like tonight since he took a day off.

“Eat as much as you want, I've prepared enough. In fact, why don’t you bring some at work tomorrow and also give it to those two doctors…” your dad looked as if he’s trying hard to recall the name of your co-workers.

“Jimin and Hoseok” you laughed as you reminded him.

“Give it to Jimin and Hoseok, i’ll put it in a microwavable container so that you could heat it up”

You warmly smiled at your dad at how caring he is, placing your hand on top of your dad’s on the table, squeezing it with yours, “Thanks, Dad.”

“You know, i just remember that i’ve never seen them yet” your dad said, “They must be good looking huh? I mean a doctor ain’t a bad choice is it?”

You stopped chewing as you playfully glared at your dad, knowing where this conversation is heading. 

“Dad, it’s inappropriate if i go beyond our professional relationship” you shook your head, thinking how you dad has countlessly pestered you about getting a boyfriend since he thought that your life is pretty lonely for a 22 year old girl who chose to spent most of her time with his dad whom he’s still living with which you’re pretty content with but your dad must’ve thought the other way around.

“I just want you to be happy, that’s all” 

“Being single doesn’t equate to being lonely” you clarified, “Anyway, I am happy so don’t worry about that plus I’ll eventually find someone.”

“Well, you’re not getting any younger and it’s probably what your mom wants for you too” your dad shrugged, looking at you and then to your plate where your asparagus seems to be untouched.

“Aren’t you going to eat that?”

“You know that i don’t eat asparagus, dad” 

“It’s glazed in honey though, try it you might like it”

You picked up your fork to try the honey glazed asparagus but it still tastes wrong to you and your dad must’ve noticed when he saw you scrunch your nose in disgust, shaking your head in disapproval.

“You’re like a little child” your dad sighed as he transferred the asparagus into his plate to eat it.

Majority of your dinner was spent with your dad asking you loads of questions about Jimin and Hoseok, defending himself that he just wants to know the boys that are working with his precious girl. Defeatedly, you have no choice but to answer his questions as you both eat over the pint of ice cream you’ve bought.

After you’ve washed the dishes, you wished your dad good night even though it’s still pretty early for bedtime, heading straight away to your room to wash up and ready yourself for bed. It’s funny how you’ve never been this excited to sleep except the times when you’re sleep deprived.

As you plopped on your bed, you then grabbed your device from your nightstand to turn it on as you plug in your phone to your charger, opening the Reverie app to pair it with your phone but then a tab suddenly appeared as it got paired.

Would you like to continue your dream?

Confused, you got the manual inside your drawer to find out that you could continue your previous dream for two times only as the brain could only take so much. You declined the option to continue since you want to try first the other locations. 

Train Station is what you choose since you plan to travel around Seoul with your mom. As soon as you got to choose the location and character, you placed the device on your temple as you try to sleep.

You soon found yourself in front of the ticket vending machine, getting the cards from the machine’s dispenser.

“Let’s go” your mom said as she got on the escalator, prompting you to hurriedly catch up with her, “Hurry, the train’s about to leave.”

You run up the escalator, excusing yourself as you try to catch up with your mom who’s already standing on the platform but then the train doors had closed already as soon as you step foot onto the platform.

“It’s okay, let’s just sit and wait for the next one”, your mom said as she sat down on the bench, tapping the seat next to hers for you to sit.

“Where should we go?” you asked but you were rather met with silence.  Looking to your right, you noticed that she’s no longer sitting beside you. Furrowing your brows, your scan around the platform as you search for your mom but it’s as if she just suddenly disappeared into thin air.

The clinking sound of coins hitting against the ground has caught your attention, turning your head to the side to see an old man bending down to pick up his coins whilst one of his coins managed to roll towards your direction, only stopping as it bumped the side of your shoes.

You picked it up as you went over to the old man to give it until he smiled at you, stopping your hand that’s about to give him his coin.

“Keep the change” he chuckled as he rode the elevator, leaving you there with his ₩100 coin.

Shrugging, you then played with the coin in your hand, tossing it just to catch it mid-air to slam it at the back of your hand. You then removed your hand to reveal that it landed on tails.

You grasped the coin in your hand as you watch the train pick up its speed by the second, setting aside your hair that has made its way to your face from the gush of wind until the rumbling sounds of the train completely faded out in the distance making the station a quiet and calm place once again.

Once again, you heard the clinking sound of the coin hitting the ground, realizing that it fell off your hand at the sight of a boy at the other side of the platform who seemed to be staring straight at you. You looked at your sides to see if you were mistaken but it looks like you’re the only one standing on your side of the platform much like him.

But then he broke eye contact as he walked towards the stairs of the station, causing you to rush towards the stairs so that you’ll be able to catch him before he’s out of your sight. Thankfully, you managed to grab his arm before he could pass through the turnstile. You felt him tense a bit as you touched him, turning around to look at you with a surprised look on his face that instantly turned into confusion once you spoke.

“Jungkook” you whispered.

Suddenly, an odd blaring sound blasted throughout the station, jolting you up from reality that the sound you happened to hear came from your phone. You extend your hand towards the nightstand to grab it, snoozing the alarm.

Sitting up, you open your bleary eyes as you remove the device from your temple, staring at it for the weird dream you’ve just encountered but dreams are supposed to be weird isn’t it? But how come everyone’s faces are blurry except for your mother and that boy - Jungkook - whom you followed after.

It’s not like you’ve ever seen that face or know anyone whose name is Jungkook but you shrugged the idea off, remembering the warning in the manual that dreams don’t consistently flow smoothly since it’s in the dreams nature to be purely irrational and weird though you can’t help but wonder about the boy that suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

Who is Jungkook?

--

You found yourself sitting in the waiting lounge, watching some sort of a Moose Documentary in National Geographic Channel. The battery from the remote control ran out so it’s not like you have any choice but to watch whatever’s playing but it’s not like it’s bad at all, you just happen to learn that Mooses can dive up to six meters or twenty feet and they can hold their breath for a minute!

The door chimes rung, making you dart your attention towards the door. A young boy who looks to be thirteen came in with a Beagle Pup on his arms, stopping in front of your desk with quite a lost look upon noticing that the reception is empty with quite a worried look on his face. 

“Hi, how can i help you?” you stood up, instantly going behind your desk to assist the young boy.

“I think he’s not feeling well” the boy lightly cradles and bounces the puppy like a parent trying to calm a baby.

“Well, can you explain to me what’s wrong?”

“He’s been constantly vomiting since this morning and i think he’s getting weaker by the second” 

“Let me just call the doctor” you said, standing up to go directly to Hoseok’s office to inform him and Jimin who’s also in the room that there’s an emergency waiting for them outside.

“Do you have a record in here yet?” you asked the boy as you got behind your desk to ready the clipboard for Jimin.

“Uh I don’t know he’s actually my sister’s dog”

“Okay, what’s her name then?” you smiled, noticing how he’s panicking a bit but he sighed in relief once he saw her sister come through inside the clinic, helping her brother to give out the necessary details. 

Jimin then assisted them to go inside the room for the check up whilst you followed them to give Jimin his clipboard, giving you a chance to witness Hoseok question the siblings when the symptoms appeared while he assessed the dog’s condition. making you leave the room to go back to your desk now that your task is done.

You went back behind your desk, continuing to watch the documentary whilst you eat some sliced apples that your dad prepared for you, saying that you should start eating healthy foods rather than fast food you’ve always been eating. 

“What happened?” you asked just as Jimin got out of the room.

“The dog’s dehydrated and he needs to be put in a drip so he’ll be confined here for a while until he gets better”, Jimin explained as he placed the clipboard on top of your desk and then grabbed the fork to eat one of your sliced apples.

Soon after, the girl got out of the room as he handed you a piece of paper that happens to be a prescription and also the list of supplies needed for the dog’s in confinement that was written by Hoseok.

“Are you getting all this?” you peered up towards her just before you could write it in an official receipt to which she confirmed by nodding.

“Should i bring his dog food here?” The man asked you but Jimin beat you to it to answer him.

“Yeah, you can but you could also just buy some here, you know to save you some legwork” Jimin smiled as you purse your lips from smiling further at Jimin’s tactic of encouraging customers to buy your products.

“Sure, could you add the dog food too” she said to you, nodding as you wrote down the additional item before you ripped the receipt to give it to her and also the calling card, informing her that she could call anytime for updates about her dog.

The siblings soon leave after they’ve watched Bruno - the name of the Beagle - put on a drip with Hoseok assuring them that he’ll be treated with proper care. You then volunteered to be the one to bring the beagle his food, saying how it’s the least thing you could do to help Hoseok and Jimin.

You came into the room where the beagle is supposedly being confined inside a cage that’s large enough for him to fit as you carry the bowl filled with dog food.

“Here you go” you said once you opened the cage and placed the bowl in front of Bruno who appears to be lethargic as he did not make any move to eat the food, only looking up at you with it’s such big adorable puppy eyes.

“You’ll be better soon” you gently petted the base of his neck.

Before you could stand up and leave, you picked up the card that’s placed atop of the cage as you wrote down the time on the card which is meant for monitoring his food intake and other medications.

“I’ll get going” you said to Jimin while you grab your belongings behind your desk.

“Alright, be safe and tell your dad we enjoyed his smoked salmon”

“Sure thing” you waved as you exited the clinic, making your way down to the bus stop to finally go home.

—

Would you like to continue your dream?

You were instantly reminded of your bizzare dream last night about that boy named Jungkook who you don’t even know and also clueless as to why you followed and chased him down.

Nonetheless, you tapped the ‘No’ option since you planned a while ago that you want to have some kind of a nice dinner setting in a restaurant with both of your parents present since you’ve been wanting to have a clear memory of having your family complete. 

Laying down, you did the routine of setting up Reverie and next thing you know, you’re in one of those fancy restaurants located on the rooftop where the view of the towering skyscrapers of Seoul mixed in with the city lights. It took you awhile to register that you’re inside the five star hotel where your dad is working at. 

“What must be your dad cooking for us hm?” 

Sitting in front of you is none other than your mom who seems to be fashionably dressed well in a straight black dress paired with a dainty pearl necklace and earrings, hair perfectly styled that stops right just at her shoulders.

“Probably something delicious” 

“Isn’t it nice we get to eat here? Who knew that your dad’s perks could come in handy” your mom chuckled as she looked around the expansive room that you guessed to be one of the private rooms since you’re the only ones inside.

You looked around to examine that the two sides of the room are glass walled while it’s also well lit thanks to the big elegant chandelier hanging in the middle of the room but most of all, it’s perfectly beautiful because of the night sky view from up here.

Suddenly, the door to your right opened as a waiter who’s holding a tray came inside to place the plate filled with smoked salmon paired with honey glazed asparagus in front of you, speaking to say that it’s the main dish for tonight.

“How are you two doing?” your dad said, following suit to enter the room.

“I thought you’ll be joining us” you said once you noticed that your dad’s still wearing his uniform.

“It’s a pretty busy night, I'll try to catch up later” your dad said, “besides why don’t you first enjoy your time with Jungkook here?”

You took a glance in front of you to see that your mother has now been replaced with Jungkook whose exchanging a few words with your father as if they’ve known each other for a very long time, making you confused to decipher how your dream got weird again but mostly surprised to see Jungkook appear.

“I’ll leave you two for now, okay?” your dad left you a kiss on top of your head whilst he patted Jungkook’s back as he exited the door to go back to the kitchen thus leaving you two alone.

“I remember how you always boast about your father’s cooking skills and I must say, you’re not exaggerating even a bit” 

“See, I told you so” you said even though you’re partly confused because the you in your dreams always manages to act dominantly.

“Would you like some wine?” you peered up at the source to see that a waiter’s waiting for your confirmation before he poured some wine on both of your glasses when you sent him a nod.

“Let’s make a toast” Jungkook said as he raised his glass at you but then you were confused to say the least.

“For what? It’s not our anniversary, right?” you asked, suddenly growing anxious that you might’ve forgotten that today’s supposed to be special but you do know that your anniversary as a couple is months away.

“How could you forget this?” Jungkook asked, chuckling as he widened his eyes at you in disbelief, “It has been a year since the day we met!”

“Has it been a year already?” 

Jungkook hummed as he transferred your untouched asparagus into his plate once he devoured all of his portion but then he glanced up at you to see just as he’s about to eat a piece of your asparagus.

“What? You don’t like asparagus” Jungkook said in an unfazed manner, happily munching on his food as he hummed in delight until he remembered the untouched glass of wine.  He wiped his mouth hurriedly with the napkin to grab the wine glass.

“Cheers?” Jungkook said with his mouth still full, smiling as he placed his hand atop of yours, thumb lightly grazing against your skin.

“Cheers”

--

Adjusting yourself on your seat, you propped your elbow against the desk as you leaned your head over your hand, watching the dream from last night wherein your mom magically disappeared out of nowhere and was instead replaced with Jungkook who you assume is your ‘boyfriend’ in your dream.

You’re still unaware as to why he appeared in your dream for the second time again that’s why it prompted you to search on the internet if Reverie users have experienced the same thing as you but there was none so far.

But you know for sure that dreams are heavily influenced on what happened to you in real life thus the reason you were eating the smoked salmon dish with asparagus because of that dinner you had with your dad one day ago and also the reason why he’s your boyfriend because of that talk with your dad.

Sighing, you stand up as you leave your desk to sit beside Jimin who’s watching a movie in the waiting area.

“Do you want some?” Jimin stretched his hand that’s holding a pack of peanuts. You held out your palm to him as he poured over some nuts until it’s enough for your liking.

“Thanks” you said as you popped them into your mouth, “Jimin…”

“Hmm?” you were a bit hesitant if you should talk to Jimin about Reverie since it gained a bad image with one news outlet saying that the device’s original purpose got taken out of its context and was instead converted into something controversial - it was now being used by others to satisfy their sexual fantasies.

“What do you think about Reverie?” you shyly said.

“The dreaming device?” Jimin asked, “I don’t know much about it except that everyone uses it to dream about wild things, why?”

Well, it looks like that article broke out the internet already and it made you even more bashful to open up to Jimin that you’ve purchased the device yourself even though you know that you’re using it for another reason.

“I, um, bought it” 

Jimin peered his eyes away from the television as he looked at you with his eyebrows raised, momentarily stopping himself from munching down the peanuts.

“I mean i have it since you know, my mom died a long time ago and it’s the only way i could only see her” you defended yourself, feeling a bit embarrassed from how you talked so fast.

“Well, I thought you bought it for another reason” Jimin chuckled, “How is it?”

“It’s good, i get to see my mom anytime i want but then it started getting weird recently” you purse your lips as you contemplate if it’ll be a good idea to tell him the boy in your dream - Jungkook. 

“Go on”, Jimin said, urging you to continue.

“I was dreaming about my mom but then a boy would constantly take her place but what’s weird is that i called him ‘Jungkook’ and i don’t even know anyone who has that name”

“What does he look like then?”

“Well, he has big doe eyes, sharp nose, nice smile and i must admit, he looks quite handsome and cute at the same time” you think you’ve imprinted the image of him in your mind with the amount of times you’ve replayed the video as you try to ponder if you’ve ever seen Jungkook before but nothing came in mind.

“Sounds like he’s a sexual fantasy of yours” you threw the rest of your peanuts at Jimin as he doubled in laughter.

“But jokes aside, do you think you could vividly dream about a person you didn’t know in the first place?” you curiously asked as you waited for Jimin to calm down from his laughing fit, adjusting himself on his seat as he properly answered you.

“No? I mean, maybe those are the physical traits you like in a person and your subconscious just so happened to create this ‘Jungkook’ guy” Jimin said.

“You think so?”

“Don’t take it from me though, I’m a veterinarian not a neurologist” you shrugged, returning your attention back on the television.

After the credits rolled on the television, you went inside the room where Bruno is to give him the food and water he needs just before you leave the clinic. He seems to be getting better but it was still clear that he’s still weak at some point.

“Hello, Bruno” you pet his head, cooing as his head leaned further to your touch. 

It reminded you of that time when you would endlessly beg your dad to get a dog, reasoning out that you’re tired of having no one to play with as the only child you are and that a dog was your best bet in having a playmate or so although that did not fully convince for your dad to get you one.

That only resulted for you to ignore your dad for a few days as the brat you are until he came home with a cage where a hamster resides rather than the dog you’re wishing for but it’s enough for you to smile at your dad, thanking him for the new pet.

You mutter a goodbye to the Beagle, standing up to go towards the door when you get suddenly surprised by Hoseok when his head suddenly peeked inside the door.

“Y/N, could you help us for awhile?” Hoseok said, resting his shoulders on the door frame. 

“Are you going to put up some Christmas decorations?” you said as soon as you saw the box he’s carrying where a ‘Christmas Stuff’ is labelled on the front with a permanent marker.

“Yeah, it’ll be just quick though” Hoseok reassured you since the clinic already closed a few minutes ago.

“Alright” you grabbed the box from Hoseok, exiting the room to find Jimin already setting up the mini Christmas Tree in the waiting area. 

“How many days is it before Christmas?” you asked, standing up on a chair as you try to stick the garland against the walls.

“Uh twenty nine days” Jimin grabbed the rest of the garland as he assisted you.

“Oh really? Time must’ve passed by quickly” 

“Yeah, days are shorter during this time of the year so maybe that’s why” Hoseok shrugged as he embellished the Christmas Tree with some decorative balls.

It was spring when you started to work in the clinic which means that it has also been mostly eight or nine months since your stay. You were only supposed to work here for six months but you’ve quite enjoyed it that you managed to delay applying for a job in your field, thinking how you’re going to complete a year in the clinic before you do so.

—

Sitting on your bed, you managed to turn the television on to continue the movie you were watching last weekend whilst you slurp over the instant noodles you’ve cooked yourself as your late lunch since your dad isn’t home as he usually is this time since his work demands him to be present in days like the weekend and holidays.

That’s the great thing about Sundays, it’s the only day you could have the whole day for yourself considering you only have to work until 12 p.m. in the clinic today and you can lounge around your house just by yourself, not that you don’t like the presence of your dad but you guess you’re one of those people who prefers alone time.

You turned off the television once you felt the burning like sensation from your eyes probably because you’ve taken only four hours of sleep last night. Plopping down your head sideways on your pillow, the device came into your sight, remembering how you forgot to wear it last night from how tired you are from decorating the clinic.

The conversation you had with Jimin yesterday came flashing back when he told you that it could be a probability that Jungkook is a character made by your subconscious and Jimin’s not wrong when he told you that Jungkook might be just a reflection of what you want in a person because you could say he’s piqued your interest.

Would you like to continue your dream?

You clicked the ‘No’ option right away as you still find the whole thing quite odd though you’re quite unfazed by now. It has been a while since that first vivid dream you had with your mom so that’s why you hope Reverie won’t alter your dream though that’ll be highly unlikely.

The fireplace is the first thing you saw in your dream, Christmas decorations and picture frames filled the mantel though you can’t completely make out who the individuals in the pictures are but you’re sure it’s someone else’s house.

“What is your dream?” 

You looked sideways to see your mom sitting beside you on the sofa as she sipped something on a mug after she had said that statement, the snow outside the window catching your attention for a second before you looked back at your mom with a quite confused look.

“Like my dream in life?” your mom nodded, intently looking at you.

“I dream of having my own business someday” you said, “But i’m still not sure what kind of business it’ll be?”

“Your dad’s a chef, why don’t you hire him and build a restaurant?” your mom suggested, making you laugh at her suggestion though you think you’re going to consider it into one of your ideas.

“What about you mom?” you laid down on your mom’s lap as you looked up at her whilst she softly caressed your hair, straying out some strands of your hair that had made way into your face.

“I dreamt about having a beautiful daughter when me and your dad got married and look you’re here”

“Isn’t it sad we only get to be together for three years?” you frowned.

“Out of all the years i’ve lived, those three years are the most precious thing that happened to me and it’s because of you, my dear”

You think you must’ve shed some tears as your mom wiped the corners of your eyes with her thumb, gently smiling at you as she told you not to be sad but to be happy.

“There’s a dream I have for you but I could only do so much,” she said, staring straight ahead at something. Your eyes are about to look at where she’s looking at but she held your face gently just before you could turn your head, “Always remember to follow your dreams.”

You could tell when your dream is about to end, it’s when the scene in front of you dims slowly into the void and that’s what’s happening right now but before you could slowly succumb into consciousness, your mom squeezed your hand tightly as if to remind you one last time.

“Follow your dream.”

Tears ran down your face once you opened your eyes, noticing that your tears are what must’ve woken you up. You’ve cried for a bit, thinking how unfortunate it is that she’s gone and how you’ve greatly missed her.

After you’ve calmed, you grab the device as you stick it once again on your temple to continue your dream to ask her about the dream she has for you and also taking advantage of it now that Jungkook didn’t manage to appear.

You found yourself once again in front of the fireplace when you chose to continue your dream. It looks exactly the same when you left although you could hear some Christmas songs playing now and the space beside you where your mom should be seating is now empty.

“I have a surprise for you”

A voice said that doesn’t belong to your mom but you definitely know that it’s Jungkook who seems to be covering your eyes with both of his hands as he whispers into your ear, his breath tickling you a bit.

“What is it?”

“I’ll have to get it first” he said, “Promise me you’ll close your eyes?”

Jungkook took off his hands once you gave him a nod though you’re tempted to open your eyes to see what the surprise is, you tried your best to be obedient and soon enough, you heard his footsteps in front of you.

“Okay, you can open them now”

Jungkook’s hair is now dyed pink like cotton candy pink which caught you by surprise but that’s not what surprised you more because your eyes immediately panned towards the adorable thing he’s cradling like a baby in his arms.

“Merry Christmas!”

“Oh my god a puppy?” you said in awe as you stretched out your hand for Jungkook so that you could cradle it instead though he more of placed it on your lap, making you coo how the Beagle pup is trying to remove the red ribbon that’s loosely tied around its neck with its cute tiny paws.

“I remember when you told me that you wanted a dog ever since you were a kid” Jungkook scratched his head, sitting down beside you who seems to be so caught up with the puppy as you giggled at how playful it is. 

“Let’s call her Buttercup” Jungkook didn’t question you for the name as he instead admired how the big smile on your face made him feel so much warmth in his chest, perhaps it’s because from the sense of pride that he’s the reason behind your happiness although it’s somewhat more of the puppy who's still on your lap. 

“Your gift is much better than mine, I feel bad” you playfully frowned.

“Don’t be, what is it then?”

“It’s in my house, you’ll get to see tomorrow” you winked, thinking if he would even like yours which is a newly released game he’s been dying to play ever since it was announced plus some quirky love note on the side as the low key romantic person you are.

It never even crossed your mind to consider if Jungkook might’ve bought it already, so it’ll be really lame of you if he ever has it though you think he hasn't got it yet when you clearly remember scanning his shelf filled with his games when you came by his house. You can’t help but be worried but if that’s the case then the love note might as well work then.

“Hey, you’re already a gift to me” Jungkook tilted your chin upwards so his eyes could meet your worried ones.

“You’re so mushy” you laughed, gently tilting Jungkook’s head to the side so he can stop staring at you like that, like he’s so into you and it’s making you want to hide and shy away from his stare, “Anyways, thank you-”

“I love you”

You were dumbfounded for a while as you try to process those three words that just came out of Jungkook’s mouth. Your dad wasn’t lying when he told you the time he felt his world stopped when your mom said those words to him for the first time because fuck, this is indeed the first time Jungkook said this to you and you felt like your heart stopped beating too.

“I just wanted to tell you and y-you don’t have to say it back” Jungkook stammered, panic settling within him.

Jungkook’s the one who’s more expressive in your relationship, the one who’s more romantic and cheesier than you while you’re more of an awkward and shy one since Jungkook is your first boyfriend. Not that you don’t love him the same but you’re quite not sure how to properly show affection to him none other than through letters and notes that is.

Impulsively, you cupped Jungkook’s cheek as you leaned in further until your lips were mashed together that’s why it’s understandable that Jungkook’s not been responding to you for a while, possibly shock that you initiated to kiss him when it was always him who’s used to kissing you first. 

Jungkook then smiled as he kissed you back, taking it up a notch when he grabbed your waist towards him, making you straddle him as you put one hand on his shoulder whilst the other is on his neck where you’re gently caressing his hair, making him audibly emit a low hum against your lips, shy at how that got you so bothered.

You felt the warmth of his hands more after it had made its way under the base of your shirt, thumb gently grazing on your skin above your hip bone where he drew circling motions on it, making you emit a chuckle at how ticklish it feels yet it’s enough for you to melt more into the kiss.

Jungkook detached his lips to yours to pepper your chin with kisses instead then making his way to the side of your jaw where he left a trail of wet kisses, eyes closing from pleasure and how good it felt until you got distracted by Buttercup’s bark.

“Wait” you gently pushed Jungkook back by his shoulders so you could look at what’s bothering the puppy who seems to be running back and forth towards the edge of the sofa and practically just barking at the floor, taking a look to see that there’s nothing on the floor which left you to think of what could possibly be bothering her.

“She wants to go down but it’s too high for her” Jungkook helped you out.

You scooped Buttercup up so you could finally place her down on the floor whilst Jungkook held you in place by tightening his hold on your waist so you wouldn’t fall.

With the barking gone, you then smiled, proceeding to continue the heated kiss you shared with Jungkook but not for long as you opened your eyes in panic when you realized something that made you break the kiss once again, removing your weight on Jungkook’s lap to sit instead next to his side, making him furrowed his brows in worry at you.

“What’s wrong?”

“Your parents and your brother could walk in any minute!” you whispered at him, fearing that you might get caught making out with Jungkook in their living room and it’s not good, not when you just met his family.

Jungkook’s family lives in Busan that’s why it took so long for you to actually meet them personally. The reason you’re also here is because you and Jungkook both agreed that you’ll celebrate Christmas Eve with Jungkook’s family while he will then celebrate Christmas itself with you and your dad tomorrow. 

“Let’s go to my room then” Jungkook said as he kissed your cheek, standing up whilst he pulled  your arm to get up and follow him upstairs. You were at the end of the stairs when you heard tiny whimpers coming from the living room.

“Oh no, how could I forget?” you let go of Jungkook’s hand as you briskly walked towards the living room to pick up Buttercup, pecking her kisses and muttering apologies for forgetting and leaving her all alone in the living room.

Once you're back on his side, Jungkook pulled you in by the waist to give you a peck on the lips but he must’ve got carried away as he tried to deepen it, not that you could blame him if it’s addicting in the first place only for Buttercup to ruin the moment again as she barked, causing you two to break away.

“I’m starting to think Buttercup doesn’t like it when i kiss you, hm?” Jungkook said, cupping the Beagle’s head as he glared at her, “Shouldn't you be nice to your dad?”

You watch as Jungkook continuously played with the puppy on your arms, finding it cute that Jungkook just referred to himself as Buttercup’s dad which made him more endearingly adorable if that’s possible. 

“I love you too, Jungkook”

You’d like to believe that Jungkook felt his whole world stopped too just like what happened to you when you noticed how he’s staring at you with wide eyes and mouth agape until he placed a hand on his chest, dramatically heaving a relieved sigh.

“Thank god, I thought i’d be raising this puppy all by myself” you gently shoved Jungkook’s shoulder as he put his hand above where you hit him, face contorting in pain as if he really got hurt, making you chuckle more at his silliness.

“Just lead the way” you pushed him with your free hands when he made no move to go up at all.

“Alright, someone’s too eager” Jungkook doubled in laughter once he felt a slap against his back.

“I love you” he said, stealing a kiss right before he dashed up the stairs.

--

You joined Jimin and Hoseok in the waiting area, sighing as you stretched your neck and shoulders. The clinic was pretty busy for today and you’re glad you don’t have any clients to attend now considering the closing time will be in an hour. Mickey jumped off of Hoseok’s lap to transfer to you instead, smiling at the Santa outfit he’s sporting today.

“Why don’t we watch some news?” Hoseok took the remote from Jimin, both of you not muttering anything as you find the film showing in the television to be a bore anyway. You focused on petting Mickey instead, observing how his eyes were slowly fluttering by the second.

Well, it seems like not only three but the four of you are tired from today. Mickey was about to close his eyes until he got startled from Jimin’s quite loud voice.

“Have you ever dreamt about lottery numbers?” Jimin asked, making you confused until he told you to watch the news which is currently featuring the story of how a man won the lottery simply because of the Reverie device, stating that he won the lottery thanks to the random numbers that showed up in his dreams.

“You own a Reverie?” Hoseok asked but before you could answer, Jimin interjected to explain why you got it whilst you continue to watch the news again where they’re showing a similar story from the lottery man.

A high school student whose identity was disclosed is shown holding her nearly perfect exam paper to the camera, saying how she dreamt about the contents of the exam beforehand the test that’s why she was able to get a high score and how she intentionally omitted mistakes to not raise suspicions.

“Did something like that happen to you?” Jimin asked, shaking your head no, “Still dreaming about your mom?”

“Yeah but not that often anymore, it’s more of-”

“Jungkook?” Jimin cut you off, laughing as he saw you nod at him, “Any sexual fantasies yet?”

“No!...That’s ridiculous” you denied though it’s clear that you’re embarrassed because it was exactly three days ago since that Christmas Eve make out session with Jungkook happened. You stopped using Reverie for a while because of how that particular thing weirded you out because who even is Jungkook and why are you doing something intimate with him?

You’re scared because what if Jimin is right and Jungkook is a sexual fantasy of yours that you just strongly deny but it’s not like you completely dislike the idea of Jungkook, it’s just taken you aback how things escalated quickly. After all, there’s no harm dreaming about him.

“Well, you should tell me if ever you’ve dreamt about lottery numbers, okay?” Jimin said, winking at you.

“Why would she tell you? If I were her, I'd just enter those numbers by myself” Hoseok argued, “Plus, isn’t this just some kind of marketing ploy for the device?”

If you come to think of it, maybe Hoseok’s right. Reverie is surely just producing these kinds of stories in order to steer away from its bad reputation the internet has given them though for you, they should’ve let it be - bad marketing is still a form of marketing. It’s not like you could blame the company, they gotta do what they need to do to save its image.

How you wish that you get to have the same kind of dreams from the users they’ve interviewed but you only manage to dream about this boy who only continues to exist in your dreams instead. 

Jungkook is his name and his family lives in Busan - those are only the two things that makes him distinct from your dreams but you’re sure that it’s only your subconscious who made that up. Sometimes, your curiosity gets you to wonder things about him that’s beyond what your mind can imagine.

What if Jungkook does exist in reality?

--

“Hi, how may i help you?” you asked once you saw a woman enter the store with a dog on a leash and a little girl came following

“We’re here for the 2 p.m. appointment”

You did your usual task of retrieving the records and clipping them on a clipboard for Jimin to take. Assisting the woman to the room where Hoseok is supposedly preparing the materials and equipment needed. 

“Just sit and wait for me, okay?” the woman crouched down as she said this to the little girl until she looked back at you, “Can you please look over her for a while? Thank you”

You guided the little girl towards the waiting area as you told her that she could watch the television while she waits for her mom, leaving her to walk back to your desk once she got settled though you would still look at her from time to time.

With nothing else to do, you find yourself writing down your signature repeatedly on scratch paper until you get tired of it, resorting to writing another word or perhaps another name - Jungkook.

It has been a week since you managed to continue using Reverie again and you noticed that Jungkook is pretty much an inhabitant of your dreams by now with the amount of time he appears more in it than your mom that you started to be more accustomed with the boy and there’s no denying that you have come to let him live in your dreams.

Sometimes, you feel bad that you’re more looking forward to dreaming about Jungkook than your mom nowadays though you still hope she could appear once again. You’ve been missing the talks you have with her specially if the last talk you’ve had with her was back at Jungkook’s family house where she told you to follow your dreams.

“Hello miss” 

You stopped from writing down Jungkook’s name as you heard little grunting sounds coming in front of you. One pair of cute tiny hands came into your view, the girl clearly trying to clutch both of her fingers around the edge of your desk as she finally managed to propped her chin after successfully tiptoeing.

“Hello, what can i do for you?” you said in a rather cheery voice to match her energy.

“Can i watch some cartoons, please?” you can now only see her eyes at this point, figuring that she must’ve given up from trying to reach the desk.

“Sure” you grabbed the remote from your side as you stood up to make your way and sit towards the waiting area with the little girl. You’re just casually switching the channels as you told the little girl to tell you to stop if she finds what she wants to watch.

“Cinderella!” the little girl squealed.

“Oh would you like to watch that?” 

The little girl nodded at you, increasing the volume as you relaxed back to your chair to watch the Disney film until you notice her singing along to A Dream Is a Wish Your Heart Makes in that scene where Cinderella was assisted by the birds and mouses as she gets ready for the day.

“No matter how your heart is grieving,

If you keep on believing, 

The dream that you wish will come true”

“You must’ve watched it a lot of times, hm?” you asked once you noticed she knows the lyrics to the song all too well.

“Birds aren’t nice,” the girl said, “I thought they’re helpful.”

“What do you mean?” 

The little girl then proceeded to tell you that one time she’s too lazy to fix her bed in the morning so an idea popped in her mind once she saw the movie. Since they have a love bird in their garden, she thought it’d be a good idea to get the cage and set them free into her room, thinking that they’ll help her clean the room just like in Cinderella.

“Did your mom get angry at you?” you stifled a laugh at how cute and innocent this little girl is who then pouted and nodded at your question.

“But it was funny watching her and dad trying to catch and get them back” the girl giggled as she recalled the memory.

Not long after, the little girl’s mom came out of the room, making her way towards the desk to pay the fees.

“Thank you for watching over her”, the woman said as you gave her a polite smile.

“Goodbye Miss!” The girl cutely waved at you, waving back at her as you gush at her cuteness.

Time pretty much passed by quickly after the little girl left because next thing you know, you’re getting off at the bus stop, walking towards your house as you keep your head up to look at the clear sky, giving you a perfect view of the stars.

You then refrain from walking once you spotted the familiar star which your mom told you where she is in your dreams. Smiling at the thought even though you probably look crazy with how you look - standing at the side of the road and smiling at the sky.

“I miss you” you said under your breath, “I’ll promise to follow my dreams”

--

“Wait, I’m getting the change” you chuckled as Jungkook impatiently tugged your arm as soon as he heard that the Disney Illumination Show will start in five minutes.

Grabbing the churros from the vendor, Jungkook then started to drag you along with him towards the front of the Cinderella Castle, chuckling in the process as you can’t help how Jungkook acts like a child with how excited he is right now that he even devoured his churros as fast as possible so he could potentially focus during the show.

Thankfully, you got a pretty good spot and you’ve arrived right in time as the show is just about to begin in a minute.

The lights that are lighting up the castle are then turned off only to be back on but are now illuminated with different Disney animations, music then starts playing with the water fountain and fireworks perfectly synced to the beat, clearly understanding Jungkook’s excitement for the show as you stand and watch in awe.

Halfway to the show, you glanced beside Jungkook to see his glassy eyes, remembering how Jungkook could get so emotional and touched in things like this and next thing you know a tear rolled down on his face that you managed to wipe with your thumbs as you endearingly smile at him.

Jungkook chuckled, clearly abashed that he unknowingly cried resulting in him to pull you in towards his chest, enclosing you in a back hug where he rested his chin on your shoulder. You look sideways at him to kiss his cheek, placing your hand on his arm as you continue to watch.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” you asked.

“Do you want me to say you’re beautiful too?” Jungkook teased as he raised his eyebrows at you.

“If you say so” 

“You glow more than these fireworks” 

“You’re cheesy, I hate you” you glanced at your side to see Jungkook already staring at you.

“But you love it anyway” Jungkook smiled, leaning his head towards you to kiss you on your cheeks and then on the corner of your mouth until you moved your head a bit to the right so that you could fully kiss him.

“I could still taste the sugar” you chuckled, turning around to wipe the corner of Jungkook’s lips with the sleeves of your sweater from the sugar he possibly got from the churros.

You turned back to your previous position as you continue to watch the show and as soon as it ended, you two headed out towards the exit with Jungkook wildly swinging both of your hands that are intertwined while his other hand is holding the bag that contains the BB-8 Soda Container and two shirts that you got in the souvenir shop.

as he keeps on singing the songs that played out in the show awhile ago but he’s more particularly singing the song in the Cinderella movie.

“Did you have fun?” Jungkook asked in between the songs he kept on singing ever since the show ended, more particularly the song from Cinderella that played out in the show. 

“Yeah, it felt so magical right?” 

“Being here with you is magical enough” Jungkook raised your intertwined hands as he kissed the back of your hand, smiling as he saw you leaning your face towards his arm to hide how flustered that just made you feel.

“I hate you” you mumbled, still hiding your face in his arms.

“I know, I love you too”

Jungkook removed his hand from yours to place it instead on your shoulders to pull you more into his side, kissing the crown of your head as he continued singing the song that has managed to plague his mind.

‘Have faith in your dreams and someday,

Your rainbow will come smiling through.

No matter how your heart is grieving,

If you keep on believing,

The dream that you wish will come true.’

When you opened your eyes, you were then drifted back to reality when the ceiling of your room came into view. You then placed your hand on top of your chest as soon as you felt your heart thumping rapidly, smiling as you relive the dream that got you so giddy first thing in the morning.

But then you were pulled out from your dreamy state when you grabbed your phone, thinking you woke up right before your alarm went off but it looks like you’ve slept through it when you saw the time and Hoseok’s text, asking your whereabouts.

You threw your blanket away off of you, rushing inside your bathroom to get ready as fast as possible and next thing you know, you’re right outside of your house in just fifteen minutes, locking your door as you jog towards the bus stop which is thankfully just a few meters away from your house but then morning rush sure is hell as you notice the slow traffic flow.

As if you aren’t startled enough from being late, your phone went off to show that Hoseok’s calling you.

“Hi Y/N, where-”

“Hoseok, I woke up late, I'm sorry but I’ll be there in twenty minutes!” you said, quickly rushing towards the train station which is the best possible mode of transportation in your situation right now even though you’ll have to switch trains but it’s not like you have any choice anyway.

“Okay, just make sure you’ll make it in time for the two appointments in the next hour”

After the call ended, you quickly placed your phone in your pocket wherein you also retrieved your transportation card to scan it through the turnstile gate only for it not to open since your card’s balance is insufficient, making you even more agitated as you load your card down by the ticketing machine.

Thankfully, you passed through the gates and you’re now rushingly going up the escalator as soon as you felt the incoming rumbles of the train but then a man was blocking the walking side of the escalator.

“Excuse me” you said but the man made no move to step aside, annoying you even more until you noticed that he’s wearing earphones. The man just noticed that he’s on the wrong side of the elevator when you tapped him on the shoulder, profusely apologizing as you lightly smiled before you ran up again.

As soon as you got on the platform, the doors of the train closed as if luck wasn't by your side this morning. Sighing, you make your way to one of the seats as you feel your adrenaline rush wearing out, finally accepting that you’re late for work.

The clinking sound of coins hitting against the ground has caught your attention, turning your head to the side to see an old man bending down to pick up his coins whilst one of his coins managed to roll towards your direction, only stopping as it bumped the side of your shoes..

You picked it up as you went over to the old man to give it until he smiled at you, stopping your hand that’s about to give him his coin.

“Keep the change” he chuckled as he rode the elevator, leaving you quite puzzled all of a sudden because why does it feel like this has happened before yet it feels strangely unfamiliar at the same time perhaps could this be just a deja vu?

Until you remembered why it was so familiar to begin with. Skeptically, you tossed the coin in the air just to catch it mid-air as you slammed it at the back of your hand just to see if it’ll result into the same scene that happened before in your dreams

You don’t know why you’re so anxious to remove your hand. Perhaps you might freak out a bit if it happens to land on tails but there’s still a bit of probability that it could land on heads instead.

No, it landed on tails.

Baffled, you thought to yourself that this could be just a coincidence. You start to feel the hairs on your skin rise and your hands are starting to become clammy because you know well how the next scene will play out.

What if Jungkook is standing on the other side of the tracks?

It can’t be, Jungkook is just a figment of my subconscious, you reminded yourself.

You grasped the coin in your hand, fidgeting with it as you watch the train pick up its speed by the second, setting aside your hair that has made its way to your face from the gush of wind, anticipation building up by the second.

Waiting.

Impatiently Waiting.

The rumbling sounds of the train completely faded out in the distance making the station a quiet and calm place. Once again, you heard the clinking sound of the coin hitting the ground.

‘Follow your dreams’ is what your mom told you but is it possible for your dreams to follow you?  As inconceivable it may seem, you're directly looking at a boy you just saw in your dreams and a boy you never knew existed in reality until now.

Who would know that the conscious could meet the subconscious.

--

A/N: I guess I took the futuristic!au quite literally. I think it wasn’t futuristic enough except for the device though it somewhat looks like it’ll fit as a Black Mirror episode haha. Hope you liked this one!

Also, coffee?

[residentlesbrarian]

The Fourth Book I Read In the Dark: Of Expectations and Other Relatabilities

Of Gryphons and Other Monsters by Shannon McGee

Hey, guys, sooooo...this is aaaawwwkward. I wrote 95% of this review when I wrote the other Books I Read in the Dark series for the blog, but the ADHD hit me and COVID was still you know...a thing! So I am gonna post this review, finished of course, OH, but also pay extra close attention to the conclusion alright! Hmm...this is a bit like a time capsule...here are my concentrated thoughts from 6 months ago while I was slightly delirious on books and darkness. So go forth and uh yeah this one is...you can just feel the feral “I haven’t had access to proper internet so I’ve been curled in the corner like Gollum with my books” energy coming off it so...enjoy?

Okay, so yeah, I really didn’t have a reason to end my last review that way I just wanted to, so sue me for injecting a little excitement into a series of posts about me literally sitting in my house reading nonstop for 2 ½ days, my reviews my rules. Back to manufacturing my own excitement shall we!

It’s Day 2! I’ve just finished my last library book, whatever will I do! I could always reread The Neverending Story for the 1,273rd time, but I have a need. A need for GAY! I rack my brain, there has to be a solution. My town is without power, my local library won’t be open, but then it hits me. It’s so simple! It’s meant to be really! Like the universe knew this was coming and it made sure I was prepared! Like a prepper stockpiling mental SPAM for my stimulus needing ADHD riddled brain! I have an entire shelf of books that I haven’t read yet! Way back in Clexacon 2019 my best friend (Lookin at you @justalifelongphase) gave me way too much money from missed birthdays and Christmases all at once before the con started because the world has deemed it impossible for us to live geographically close to one another. Anyway, I went a little book-buying-crazy and have not had the time or opportunity to read any of them since then. Their time has finally come!

I figured after going full whimsy with The Lost Coast and sci-fi superhero with Dreadnought and Sovereign why not take a dip into more traditional fantasy, also this one was first in line on the shelf, yay for not having to actually make a decision! No more dawdling, let's get right into the review!

Unicorn Rating:

Blurb: Taryn always loves and hates gryphon season. She finds the lesser gryphons more cute than anything but the ever present fear that a greater gryphon might be just out of sight is terrifying, and this gryphon season proves to be the one that will change her and her families lives forever! Just let a girl herd her sheep in peace!

Disclaimer: I will try my best to not spoil anything from the book, but my book loving rambles may give more away than a traditional review. Here we go! Ramble time!

Review:

I genuinely enjoyed this book. It took me a bit longer to get through it than the others, but I think that was a combination of three things: A. I was starting to feel the fatigue of reading so much in such a short amount of time. B. Our local Wal Mart had power restored on Day 3 and our entire household went on a trip to buy non-perishable food stuffs and I was like a solitary confinement prisoner being let out into the yard for the first time in months when my phone picked up a wifi signal and it was a bit hard to get back into the swing of reading after talking to other humans, even virtually, that weren’t imaginary or in my head. C. Our power was finally restored on the afternoon of Day 3 so yet again I was inundated with the draw of technology and all of my friend-os I hadn’t talked to, but the book had drawn me in enough I did the most unmillienial thing and left my phone in a different room to charge while I finished this book before going back to the land of technology and interwebs. That should tell you something.

McGee was able to write this story in a way that pulls you in so you care about what happens to these characters and this little mountain town. You learn just enough about the world to understand where they fit within the overall weave of it, but you aren’t given a Tolkein-esc dissertation on the world lore. I felt the worries and the fears. I was concerned when the routines had to change. I mean she made me care about the freaking sheep! Sheep, people! One of the reasons I think this works so well is we are so firmly rooted in the head of our protagonist, Taryn. Imma use that lovely bridge I just built to skip right on over the plot section of the review to get to the characters first, don’t worry we’ll circle back round to the plot. I always do, but I just wanna talk about my newest set of brain babies.

Taryn is a character that, if the title of this post is anything to go by, I found very very relatable. Now I know relatability can be pretty subjective, some people can latch onto something with the all consuming, “It me!” While others just stare on dead eyed not understanding the appeal. I feel like Taryn could be that kind of protagonist. You are either going to really relate to her or you won’t understand where she is coming from at all. I obviously fall in the former category. I was the quintessential middle child, still am really, though my relationship with my parents has shifted now that I’m an adult. More mutual respect and friendship than parent to child. I always did my best to pick up the slack, if ever there was any, and just tried my best to be as little of a burden as possible to my parents. I see so much of that aspect of myself in Taryn and how she sees her place at the farm and even in the town, she has her place and her role, but those expectations are heavy. One of those expectations being that she will inevitably get married and help take over the farm from her parents and have kids to continue the line. The fact she finds the lesser gryphons that flock near the farm far cuter than any of the local boys that she will eventually have to choose from to fulfill that inevitable expectation is just...sad at best and down right tragic at worst. And her family doesn’t help matters either. They won’t let her forget that she will have to settle down with one of these local boys, a boy who would make a good husband and take good care of her and the farm. She knows that, logically, but she also wants to be in love, like her parents, and she just doesn’t feel like that for any of the boys in town. She doesn’t know how to make those two things line up. It’s a struggle between her head, the obligation of what she has to do, and her heart, what she really wants for her future, to be happy in doing what she has to do. Wow, I went off a little bit there, but this was my long winded way of saying I have never read a protagonist that really captured the utter confusion of being raised in a heteronormative environment without it being drenched in internalized homophobia and fear. Protagonists like this seem to always know something is off but just don’t have the words for it so they just hide it because they know it’s “different” and out of the norm, but Taryn is just livin’ her sheep herding life and ain’t got no time for these boy crazy fools. She knows her mom wants her to find a good boy to court her so she can marry someday but she’s still young. She’ll think about that tomorrow, and she just repeats that ad infinitum. The thought that maybe she doesn’t fancy any of the boys because well...girls...never even occurred to her. It's not how things are done in this small mountain town, not because of homophobia reasons, but just stubborn tradition reasons. We are even told there is a gay couple living in town who are staples in the overall dynamics in town, instrumental even, but the idea of having a lineage, being able to pass your land down is so ingrained no wonder poor Taryn was so in the dark about her own probable gayness till it slapped her in the face. As someone who was raised in a medium sized Oklahoma town...girl I feel you. I was 22 and in the middle of Appalacia, way up in the mountains for college when my gay awakening popped up and said “Hello!” Everything that never quite made sense in my life came into perfect clarity. Not quite what happened with Taryn, but the arrival of Aella surely helped, as pretty girls are want to do. Oh look a segue, good, cause I could talk about Taryn for literal hours and I’ve already gabbed about her too much for this review.

Aella, you smooth motherfucker. Like I wish I could possess a quarter of the smoothness that you do. Like I’m lucky to string sentences together around a pretty girl, but here you are just strutting about being the smoothest of smooth. Honestly, I just...I can’t with you Aella. On a serious note though Aella is a character that served as showing Taryn a glimpse at the world beyond her small mountain town, as much as she had no desire to leave, unlike her brother. Nope, sit down, we’ll get to you, Michael! Oh, we’ll get to you. She’s traveled and has stories from all over and she is fairly open about the fact that she only likes girls, but she doesn’t have land, responsibilities, and a family line to continue. She just gets to live her life the way she choses. And y’all know I am a sap for the hard dark characters that are totally softies underneath that rough exterior. I think Aella was a great foil to Taryn and great at showing her what she could have if she was willing to leave, to stretch what she was allowed to wish for, but of course the biggest issue with her wishing for anything was...Michael.

Michael was such an interesting character. I loved him. I hated him. I wanted to hug him. I wanted to punch him. Again as with the town and the people of the town I was so deep seated in Taryn’s head and feelings that her conflicted feelings about Michael and how he was acting became my feelings on the matter. Not enough to not separate a tad and see what was coming or at least try to predict it as I always do when reading, but emotionally I was right with Taryn the whole way. The one thing that really pushed Michael from just a character I was conflicted about to one I really wanna give a swift kick in the nads to, is that he knew. He knew all about Taryn’s absolute lack of romantic inclinations toward any of the boys in town and her doubts that she would ever find someone to love and marry to take over the farm. He was the only person she confided these fears in and he still selfishly followed his own pursuits with little regard to her or her worries. You sir, are a terrible brother and overall a shit human, so sit your ass down and shut your mouth.

The plot for this book was so embroiled with the characters and their journeys that I can’t talk on it much but the twists at the end and the final climax was very satisfying for me and left me excited to dig into the next book. Also something of note that I didn’t talk about in the character section cause I felt it was dragging on a touch, I really only talked in depth on our three biggest players but there is a very colorful cast of side characters ranging from Taryn’s nervous pony to the boy-who-cried-gryphon neighbor no one can stand to the troupe of hunters led by Aella’s mother to Taryn’s best friend Nia, all of whom play important parts in building that sense of caring about the people of this town and the town itself, which in turn made me deeply care about the outcome of the plot at the heart of the story. And the sheep! The god damn sheep!

One thing I do want to say before my final thoughts is that whoever designed the cover of this book in a genius because as I dug into the story I found myself constantly closing it to spout off about theories of what I thought was happening on the cover and what it all meant, I was kind of reader fatigue delirious for most of those theories but some of them I was right! I might have reenacted the Captain Holt “Vindication” gif IRL just because it felt too good not to. I just love when a “cool” cover turns out to be so much more than that once you’re “in the know”. So yeah, now y’all know to pay attention for that.

My final thoughts on this book are pretty positive. I can tell the author is building us toward so much more, hence the name of the series, Taryn’s Journey, and it feels like it. This is only the beginning and I honestly can’t wait to take the next steps with her.

Queer Wrap-up:

Hey it’s me from the future...present...whatever...so, this is when I stopped writing the review six months ago and there is a reason for that. I, kind of, agonized over what to rate this book on the scale. Multiple times having to call my brother and go back and forth just to then repeat the same arguments with myself as soon as I got off the phone. Now why was this such a hard terrible no good awful back and forth well...SPOILER WARNING...seriously anything past this point will be spoiling some character beats for the majority of the book...okay? We understand one another. DANGER ALL YE WHO ENTER HERE...or you know scroll on.

So, Taryn is never confirmed to be queer in the text of this book. Now you would have to be wearing the tightest hetero goggles in known history not to see the heavy HEAVY subtext saying THIS BITCH GAY! It’s basically a full grown elephant painted sparkly rainbow trying to hide behind a dead shrub aka not hiding at all. I so desperately wanted to give this book four of those darling unicorns but in this rare case I just don’t think I can justify it. We have a protagonist that is still figuring herself out, which is amazing that we get to see that and go on the journey with her. Some of the things Taryn does and thinks are queer coded as hell, especially if it involves Aella who is explicitly gay on the page, but Taryn herself never express whether she herself is queer. Which, fair, other really important and traumatizing things were going on and I love that about her as a character, she didn’t meet Aella and suddenly that was all she could think about. Aella, of course, is representation who I’m counting because even though she shows obvious interest (you smooth motherfucker) in Taryn she is so much more than just a love interest and her character isn’t just boiled down to her sexuality. Now in this wrap up I’m also including the doctor and his husband in the town. They are very minor characters but they give us interesting insights into the town and the people. They are accepted and treated well in town even if some do almost, pity isn’t the right word, but they seem sad that they won’t be able to have any kind of legacy or lineage. As I said in the review it’s not homophobia it’s being stuck in your ways and it’s an interesting take.

Links:

Shannon McGee Website

The Storygraph

Okay so this one is a bit of a mess. Pieces of it were written 6 months apart and most of it was written while I was kind of delirious but hey at least I can say it’s honest. I still stand by everything my past self wrote and I still really enjoy thinking and talking about this book and am excited for whenever I get around to reading the sequel to continue on Tayrn’s journey with her. This is a book I probably would never have known even existed without ClexaCon and trolling through artist alley for literally every table that had books on them. I guess, moral of the day is maybe you won’t just find great books on library shelves but on unassuming convention tables too and it never hurts to look. Trust me, I’m a lesbrarian.

Oh bet you thought this post was over. I did the sign off and everything but oh no no! I have some info and such to impart. I am WELL AWARE these reviews have been fairly inconsistent to down right sporadic. Well, this is just a little info dump letting you guys know I am gonna be putting up one more review after this one that I wrote ages ago and I mean AGES (think years, as in multiple) and just never got around to posting and then the old blog is probably gonna be going through a PLANNED dormancy while some pretty big stuff is coming down the pike. You may notice visual changes and other stuff before anything else is announced but just keep an eye out. To quote the Fates from Hercules, “It’s gonna be big!”

Okay now for the actual sign off, I got shit to do! No one look behind the curtain, it’s a surprise!

[cassiopeiassky]

Black Velvet

Alright everyone, it’s finally here.  I’ve been sort of salty about the lack of tall!reader fics for awhile now or maybe it’s just the ubiquitous short, petite, drowning in his sweatshirt descriptions that get under my skin but just couldn’t get a decent amount of inspiration to write one.  I have been known to throw in a mention of height randomly in my fics, but my usual workaround to avoid physical descriptions of the reader is to just write Bucky as like six and a half feet tall.  Hes a damn super soldier, he should be taller anyway he did not start out as short as Steve.  So one day I stumbled across this post by @invisibleanonymousmonsters​ and for some reason I can’t explain, an idea was finally unlocked in my brain later that same day.  (Inspired by a song?  Me?  No.  Never.)

It’s kind of all over the place, so buckle in.  It does take a sharp right into smutsville but also ends up flipping a u and landing in flufftown.  I don’t know.  I just write what the muse tells me to write.  

I would like to thank the incomparable @scottish-pepper​ for her amazing help and support while I wrote the thing - I couldn’t have done it without you, darlin.

Bucky x Tall!Reader

Modern day AU - think of a 40s prewar Bucky if he got a chance to grow up and lived in a small town 

Plot:  You have a terrible day of epic proportions but a beautiful stranger in a small town helps to make it better.

Warnings: Swearing (as per usual), smut, mentions of alcohol/drinking/bars, a brief mention of potentially disordered eating, mentions of a thunderstorm, and a very specific shitty family member.

Word count: 12K  Yep.  Knda got away from me

One last author’s note:   This fic includes some ASL dialogue; it is expressed in italics without quotation marks.  ASL is an incredibly beautiful and expressive language, and it’s in 3D!!  It also has its own grammar structure, rules, nuances, and regional differences, just like any other language, and it can be a challenge to fit it into a two-dimensional space.  Taking this into consideration, I’ve decided to write the dialogue with spoken English grammar because my ASL is really rusty and I don’t want to mess it up.

It’s hot.  Like 100 degrees in the shade with 95% humidity hot. The trees are wilted, flowers are drooping, and there isn’t so much as a glimmer of hope for a cloud in the sky to interrupt the sun’s torture of earth’s inhabitants.  The air is thick and still – there’s no movement at all – yet dangerously unsettled.  It’s the kind of weather that if you sneeze, you might cause a tornado in the next county over.  Of course your cousin would choose today of all days to get married.  And of course her mom pressured her into going black tie, increasing everyone’s suffering tenfold.

“I can’t believe I rented a room for this.  I can’t believe I spent $200 on a dress.  Why am I even here?  What did I expect?”  There’s no answer, but of course there wouldn’t be.  You’re alone in your car, driving back to a motel that you might not even stay the night in.  You’d rented a room because you figured you’d have a few drinks at the reception – you wanted to celebrate the bride, she’s one of your best friends – but at this point you might as well just make the hour drive back home.

About a block from the motel you notice a bar tucked behind a gas station.   According to the clock on the dash, it’s only 5:25.

Fuck it.  You deserve a goddamn drink after today.

You pull into the parking lot and are surprised by the number of cars, farm trucks, and motorcycles already parked.  There’s only one redneck limo, thank God – a pickup truck with a 10 inch lift kit and truck nuts hanging off the hitch, and in your experience driven only by incredibly insecure men – so that’s a good sign, right?  It must be a decent place with decent drinks if it’s this busy so early in the evening.  Maybe some of your day can be salvaged after all.

The hot, sticky air rushes in as soon as the car door is opened.  “Gross,” you mutter; the heat hits even harder after the air conditioning in your car.  Glancing over to the passenger seat, you see the hideous shoes your aunt Lydia pressed into your hands upon arriving at the wedding.  “You know what, Lydia?  Fuck you and fuck your ugly shoes.”  You put your heels back on just to spite her.

It’s a small-town watering hole, so of course all eyes are drawn to you when you enter.  And they stay on you as you find a seat at the bar – perhaps it’s because you’re a stranger, perhaps it’s because you’re overdressed.

But probably not.

The bartender approaches while drying his hands.  He’s got dirty blonde hair in a sloppy undercut, a wide, flat nose, and is wearing a concert tee shirt with the arms cut off to show off his full sleeve of tattoos.  

“Do you have blended drinks?”  He nods. “Strawberry daiquiri, please.”

“Sure thing.”

You pull out some cash, tipping generously because your drink is a pain in the ass to make, then look around while you wait.

The bar is cool but not cold, not brightly lit but also not uncomfortably dim, is bigger than it looks, and is even busier than the amount of vehicles in the parking lot would lead you to believe.  On one side there’s a jukebox next to a small stage with an empty but decently sized dance floor.  There are a few high tops, then a gaming area featuring pool tables, dart boards, and a few pinball machines.  On the other side of the bar you see a window with someone selling pull tabs, a station set up for calling bingo, a door to what’s probably the kitchen, and a popcorn machine filled with freshly popped popcorn.  Behind you and scattered generously throughout the building are tables, some with 4 seats and some with 6, and over half of them are occupied.

“Here you go, miss.” The bartender places your drink in front of you with a polite smile.  “Would you like a menu?  The full kitchen is open tonight.”

The thought is nauseating. “Mmmm…maybe later.”

“Too hot to eat?”  At your despondent nod, he grimaces and places a tall glass of ice water next to the daiquiri.  “Thought as much.  I’ll check back in a bit.”  You didn’t notice his name tag until now – his name is Clint, and according to the hand illustrations under his name, he’s fluent in ASL.

Unsure if he’s Deaf and fluent in lipreading or if he’s hearing, you both sign and murmur, “Thank you,” before bringing the drink to your lips.  It’s on the edge of being burned – just the way you like it.  Sipping on the sweet slush is pure bliss, cooling you down from the inside out as it tempers the heat of the rum.

You sign?  He doesn’t speak this time.  It’s not an uncommon reaction.

Yes.  I’m an interpreter.

His eyebrows rise in interest.  What made you go into that?

My high school offered it, and I ended up becoming really good friends with the teacher’s daughter, who is Deaf.  I made a lot of friends, got involved with the community and immersed in the culture, and I just loved it, so I figured, why not do this for a living?  My dreams of being a Triple Crown winning jockey went out the window by the end of 5th grade so…

He laughs, but not unkindly.  Yeah, I suppose you are a bit too tall for that.  But 5th grade?  Damn.   His face lights up, Hey, have you heard of PATH, International?  They’ve got a campus about half hour north of here.  If you like horses, it might be right up your alley.  

PATH International, or Professional Association of Therapeutic Horsemanship, is an organization very close to your heart.  Yes! I volunteer there every Tuesday night.

The look of surprise on Clint’s face is priceless.  No shit? I’m there on Thursday nights!  You must be the other interpreter the kids are always talking about - they LOVE you!  And so do the horses.  You know, I was Ace’s favorite till you came along.  Now he won’t even look at me unless I bribe him with a treat.

You look again at his name tag, and the name clicks.  Wait, you’re Hawkeye!  The one that does the archery demos on horseback for the kids’ birthday parties.

He takes a theatrical bow. The one and only.

Clint “Hawkeye” Barton is nothing short of a legend at PATH.  Profoundly Deaf yet impossibly accurate with speechreading, he manages to blend both worlds perfectly.  He’s also a master archer both off and on horseback, which basically makes him a superhero in the kids’ eyes.  There are whispers that he travelled with a circus as a teenager, that he raises horses, and that he moonlights as a vigilante, but nothing has been verified and from what you’ve been told, he will neither confirm nor deny.  It’s very likely that there’s at least some truth to the horse raising rumor – Ace is technically his horse, he just loans the chestnut gelding to the program.  You’d been dying to meet Clint for a few years now but hadn’t been able to make it work.

It’s so good to finally meet you!

Likewise!  I’ve been meaning to swing by on a Tuesday to see who it is that stole my favorite horse’s heart, but I’m usually here.  His face lights up, Hey, I’ve got some ideas for a field trip for the older kids and adults but I need to team up with an ASL interpreter since I can’t technically work as a Deaf interpreter on my own off PATH’s campus.  You know, rules and shit.  You interested?

Absolutely!  Just let me know.   You dig a pen out of your purse and write your number and email address on a napkin. You know, I’m sorry, but I’m really not sorry about Ace.  He stole my heart, what can I say.

He’s a shameless flirt, but I never thought he’d actually prefer someone else over me.  But now that I’ve met you, I guess I can’t be too sore about it.  He seems to have good taste.  He takes the napkin with a grin and folds it up before putting it in his pocket, then looks to his left when a waitress waves for his attention and nods.  Duty calls.  Let me know if you need anything.

Well, that improved your day considerably.  

For a few minutes, anyway.

“That’s an awfully girly drink for a woman like you.”  A cloud of stale cigarette smoke with an obnoxious sounding man in the middle of it takes the seat next to yours.  

You don’t turn to face him; you don’t even acknowledge him.  If that’s his opening line, then you really, really don’t have the patience to interact with him today. This is the guy that owns the jacked-up truck. You can feel it in your bones.

Clint makes a face from behind the drink he’s making, notices your annoyance, and shakes his head. “Dude, she’s got more alcohol in her glass than you and your four buddies combined, so don’t knock her drink of choice.  She’s also clearly not interested, and way, way out of your league.  Go back to your pull tabs and leave the lady alone.”

You can feel the guy’s eyes on you, but Clint keeps glaring daggers at him and he eventually leaves. You can overhear him tell his buddies, “Thought she’d be an easy lay, but you know what?  Even I have standards.  How do you fuck someone that tall anyway?  I’d need scaffolding!”  They laugh, but you continue to hold your head up high.  It’s nothing you haven’t heard some version of before.  He’s not clever.

Ignore them.  They’re lonely, small little men.

I know.  Thank you.  His protective gesture is touching and completely unexpected.  This kind of thing doesn’t happen very often because most people assume you can handle yourself.  You can – but it’s nice to not always have to be on the defensive, and today you’re at your limit.

No worries.  You look like you had a rough day, I figured you didn’t need Chad making it worse.  Clint winks and turns back to his drinks.

Well, he’s not wrong, but the day can only get better from here, right?  Right.  You nod to yourself then sit back and enjoy your drink.  Clint stops by periodically to chat, but otherwise you’re left alone.

Eventually it’s time for a trip to the ladies’ room, and you do your best to ignore the stares and chuckles that inevitably follow you.  In your semi-formal black dress you certainly stand out in a bar filled with cut off shorts and tee shirts, but that’s not why they’re staring.

In your black satin and lace, modestly platformed stiletto heels – affectionately known as your ‘fuck me shoes’ – you’re well over six feet tall.  Are they uncomfortable?  God yes, but they’re also beautiful and totally worth it.

The bathrooms are at the back of the bar, past the dart boards and pool tables.  You’re almost there when you hear something ping off one of the pool table lamps and see it ricochet across the aisle and onto the top of the glass and wood cabinets housing the pool cues.  

“How – how the hell did you manage that, Rogers?”  A man with dark hair and a jawline that could cut glass heads in your direction.  “You were supposed to throw the chalk to me, not your imaginary friend standing thirteen feet behind me.”

“Sorry, Buck,” a blonde joins him, looking appropriately apologetic.  “My aim was a little off.”

“Ya think?”

You slow your pace to watch them.  The guy with the dark hair is gorgeous – well, they both are, to be fair – but the one…damn.  His maroon tee shirt is fitted enough to show off his beefy physique, and his jeans hug his thighs and ass like they were made for him.  He throws off an air of cocky confidence with just a hint of danger, lending a genuine feel to his bad boy image.  Should you…maybe?  No. No, you absolutely should not. You’re not in the right mindset to try to soothe a man’s threatened masculinity just for a bit of company.

He and the blonde reach for the wayward chalk, but it’s just out of their reach.  It’s amusing to watch them try to grab for it, but you take pity on them eventually.

Time for your good deed of the week.

“Excuse me, gentlemen.”  Stepping between the two, you reach up and effortlessly pluck the blue cube from its spot before dropping it into the dark-haired man’s hand with a smile.  “Here you go.”

Wide blue eyes look up into yours, but he doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t even smile.  He just stares.  Figures.

The blonde looks between you and his companion before clearing his throat.  “Thank you, ma’am.”

The unspoken rejection from the brunette stings.  Normally it wouldn’t get to you, but after today?  It does.  It really does.  So you swallow against the burning thickness in your throat and force back the tears with a fake smile.  “You’re welcome.”  A few more steps and you’re in the ladies’ room, which only serves to make matters worse when you step into an open stall.  As you turn around to lock the door, you can see your entire head in the mirror, poking out above the top.  A pair of women walk in and they giggle, so you quickly sit down.  There’s no point in taking it personally – it actually happens quite a bit in older buildings and you can fully admit that the sight is pretty funny – so you compose yourself and do what you came in to do.  You slouch when you stand in order to avoid accidentally looking into one of the neighboring stalls and go to the vanity to wash up.

Even the sink mocks you by making you bend almost in half to reach the water.

A woman with dark hair and bright red lips exits the far-right stall and joins you at the mirror.  “Oh wow, your shoes and dress are so pretty!”

“Thank you.”

“Did you come from the wedding at the ballroom?”

“Mmm hmm.”  You glance at her shorts and flowery sleeveless top and swallow your sigh – you feel like a fucking behemoth next to her.  “I think maybe I should have stopped by my motel room to change.”

“No, you look really nice!” She smiles up at you, “It’s really not unusual to have people dressed up in here on the weekends, you’re just earlier than we usually see it.  I’ll give you a tip, though, in case your feet start to hurt.  I know the place looks kinda crusty, but the owners take a lot of pride in it.  The floors are clean if you choose to go barefoot.”

Her unexpected kindness surprises you; you’re usually shunned by other women when you’re at a bar because all they see is your height, which they erroneously perceive to be an advantage in attracting men.  “Thank you. That’s really good to know.”  She turns to leave but you stop her when you notice something wrong with her shirt. “Hey, hon, you’re missing a button.”  The poor girl is busty, and she’s likely been flashing an unintentionally generous amount of cleavage for who knows how long.

She looks down and immediately sees the gap in her shirt.  “Well, shit.  I just bought this shirt.  No wonder some of the guys couldn’t look me in the eye.  Stupid boobs, always trying to pop out.  Why can’t they just make clothes that fit real people?”

“I feel ya,” you mutter as you start digging through your purse.  “Hold on, I’ve got something…here, try some of this.”

“Scotch tape?”  She looks confused as she takes it.

“Double sided tape.”

Her eyes get wide as she gazes up at you.  “You’re a genius.  And an angel. An angelic genius!”  She takes some and fixes her shirt, smiling brightly. Thank you so much!!”

Despite your incredibly shittastic day, you find yourself warming to her.  She’s nice.  “You’re welcome!  I didn’t want a bunch of creeps leering at you.  In a world of Chads, we women really need to stick together.”

“Oh, God, you met Chad?” She grimaces and shakes her head, “I’d like to apologize on behalf of the entire town.  He and his friends are not a good representation of the rest of us, I promise.  They don’t even live here, they were just permanently banned from the bar in the next town over and now they’re our problem, apparently.  But I promise, the rest of the people here are alright.”  She sticks out her hand, “I’m Peggy, by the way.”

You shake her calloused hand and give her your name.  “It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too. If you feel like some company, just come find me.  My friends and I will probably be here for a while, and you’re more than welcome to join us.”

“Thank you, I might just do that.”  You flash a smile, genuine this time, and go back to your seat at the bar.  What the hell, maybe you’ll take her up on her offer after you finish your drink.  

A minute passes, maybe two, before someone takes the barstool next to you.

It’s him.  The gorgeous brunette.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself.”  You want to roll your eyes at your reply. Smooth.  Real smooth.

“My uh, my friends pointed out that I was rude earlier, so I wanted to apologize.”

You turn to him quizzically, giving him your full attention.  Is this really the same guy that was playing pool?  The sexy one that projected ‘bad ass’?  “For what?”  

His cheeks grow pink and it throws you off guard.  “It’s not nice to stare.  My ma taught me better than that – she’d slap me into next week if she saw how I acted. I ain’t usually like that, I’ve just never seen, uh…”

Here it comes.  The ‘I’ve never seen such a tall woman’ comment that leaves you feeling like a roadside circus freak show.

“Well, you just got an amazing smile.”

Wait, what?  “Huh?”

“I’ve never seen such a pretty smile.”  He shrugs and studies the bar top.  “Your eyes looked sad, though.  I dunno. I guess I was tryin’ to figure you out.” He turns back to you with an almost obnoxiously handsome grin, “My name’s Bucky Barnes.  Can I make it up to you?  Buy you a drink?”  

You narrow your eyes at him, trying to gauge his intent.  He seems genuine enough – he’s either a brilliant actor or you seriously misjudged him, which, in your current cynical mindset, is entirely possible.

You look up to see Clint watching as he dries some glasses.  Maybe he has some insight.  Is this guy decent?  He’s gorgeous but does he have a personality?  

Clint snorts, glancing at Bucky then back to you.   Yeah. He’s a pretty good guy.  He’ll treat you right.

Bucky looks like he’s swallowing a smile when you turn back to him.  “Yeah, I guess you can make it up to me.”

“Really?”  He seems genuinely happy at the prospect.

“Sure.”

“Great!”  Apparently that’s all the invitation he needs to turn on the charm.  “So what’s a gorgeous girl like you doin’ in a dump like this?

“It’s not that bad,” you laugh.

“No,” he shakes his head sheepishly, “It’s not.  Guess I’m really off my game today.  I can usually flirt, I promise.”

A beer and another daiquiri appear on the counter.  “Thanks, man,” Bucky nods to Clint.  “Hey, you wanna grab a table?”  He nods his head to the side of the bar by the jukebox.  “It’s quieter there.  We can chat and I can show you that I ain’t, in fact, the dumbass I’ve made myself out to be.”

“Yeah, okay.”  Why not?  Even if you don’t know Clint enough to trust him, the kids that you work with do, and you trust their judgement.  So if Clint says that Bucky is decent, you’ll believe him.

***

It ends up being a good choice.  Bucky turns out to be more than decent – he’s really nice, funny, respectful, keeps his eyes where they belong, and doesn’t ask if you play basketball.

He asks the basic questions and learns that you live about an hour north of here, that you’re an interpreter, you love to read, write, and draw, and yes, you were at a wedding. Tired of talking about yourself, you take advantage of him pausing to drink his beer and flip the topic.

“So what do you do?”

Bucky takes a deep breath and sighs. “I’m a mission systems engineer with NASA.”

You blink at him.  “I’m sorry, you’re what?”

“A mission systems engineer with NASA.  I know, I –“

“Do you have top secret clearance?”

He looks thoroughly confused.  “That’s your first question?”

“Do you?  Or would you have to kill me if you told me?  Have you been to space?  Does the government have a plan for if an asteroid comes our way, or would we have to do like the movie Armageddon and wing it with a bunch of oil rig operators?”

Bucky appears to be absolutely delighted at your string of questions.  “Well, yes, no, unfortunately no, and I can’t tell you that because has to do with national security.”

“Fascinating.”  You sit back, thoroughly intrigued by the man sitting across from you. “What the hell are you doing in a podunk town like this? Shouldn’t you be in Houston?  Or D.C.?”

“I live here.” He chuckles at your unimpressed stare. “Yeah, I know it’s a small town – we got a bar, three churches, a motel, a gas station, and a diner that closes by 7 pm every day.  Our biggest draw is the ballroom on the lake shore and the hunting grounds in the fall. It ain’t exactly the heart of modern technology.  But I grew up here, my family and friends are here, and I stick around to help out on their farm.  I fly into Headquarters a few times a year, but otherwise I work remotely.”

“So what do you do?”

“The general gist of it is that I lead a team that designs, develops, and deploys missions.”

“To space?”

“Well, I mean, I work for NASA…”

“What are you working on now?”  You can’t help peppering him with questions – this is so fucking cool.

His eyes sparkle.  “You got top secret clearance?”

“No.”

“Sorry.  Can’t tell you anything,” he shrugs with a smirk.

“I…yeah, I guess I kind of walked right into that.  Wow.  So you’re really freaking smart.”

“I hope so!”

“Do you like it?”

“Being smart?”

“Your job, dipshit.”

He laughs, freely and openly, and it’s an amazing sound.  “I love it.”

You can’t help but stare at him.  “Wow. That’s…that’s just really, really fucking incredible.”

Bucky gets quiet.  “It is really incredible.  Thank you for thinking so.”  He looks up, then back down as he starts peeling the label off his empty bottle of beer. “You know, you’re the first person I’ve told about my job that didn’t either tell me I don’t look smart enough to be a mission systems engineer or ask me how much money I make.”  He meets your eyes again.  “Or both.  I get that a lot, too.”

You certainly know how shitty it feels to get those kinds of unsolicited comments based solely on appearance.  It’s one thing to have an impression, but to just say those things out loud?  “Well, they suck.  And they’re truly shallow if they think intelligence has anything to do with how you look.  But hey, at least they show their true colors right away so you can save yourself some time.” You lean forward, chin in hand, “Okay, so I know you can’t tell me about your actual projects, but can you tell me about your job?  What are your responsibilities?  What does a mission systems engineer do?”

Bucky lights up like New York City and spends the next 40 minutes going into detail about what he does, and you hang on every word; it’s impossible not to, really.  His enthusiasm for what he does is so evident that even if the topic weren’t interesting, you’d still be entranced.  And you thought he was gorgeous before?  His animated passion makes him absolutely breathtaking.

You’ve both finished your drinks and, perhaps not so surprisingly, he switches to soda when you do. When unordered appetizers arrive with your new drinks, you both look over to Clint, who just winks and shrugs.

“Well I ain’t gonna complain.  Didn’t realize how hungry I was.”  Bucky shoves an entire ham and cheese ball into his mouth, but then has to hasashafahasa because it must have just come out of the fryer.  “Ish hot!  Rearry hot!”

Bursting into laugher, you slide your ice water to him before cautiously taking a bite of your buffalo wing. Considering how much fun you’ve had in the last hour, it isn’t all that surprising that your appetite has returned. “Me neither.”

The hours fly by as the conversation eventually turns to other topics, and you find yourself talking about things you wouldn’t expect considering you’ve just met.  Bucky seems so open and honest that it’s difficult not to reciprocate, and if one doesn’t go into detail about what the other asks, it’s only because there’s so much to cover.  

Bucky dips the last bit of pretzel into the beer cheese sauce and pops it into his mouth.  “So if you don’t mind me asking, what made those pretty eyes of yours so sad?”

You take a long sip of your Coke Zero as you debate your next move.  Deflect or come clean?  You surprise yourself when you blurt out, “My aunt, Lydia.”

“Your aunt?”

You squirm a bit at the uncomfortable feeling of vulnerability, but you keep going.  “Yeah.  It was her daughter that got married today.  Marie and I grew up together – Lydia is my mom’s only sister, so she was the one that took care of me when my mom had to work double shifts, which was a lot. She did the best she could, and she means well, she really does, but she’s just so caught up with appearances. My height is a, uh, a definite sore spot with her.”

“Really?  Why?  What does it matter?”

“I think it comes down to the appearance thing.  Tall women are generally seen as less feminine, even straight up masculine.  Lydia is tall, too – not quite as tall as me, but close.  She claims that she got her husband through making herself appear daintier.  She only wears flats and follows all the newest fad diets to make herself as small as she can because she feels that being a tall woman puts her at a distinct disadvantage.”  You shrug, “She was one of the primary examples I grew up with. And to be fair, it’s not like she’s completely wrong.  In my experience, guys tend to feel emasculated by me.  And it’s not just men that seem to see me through a distorted lens.  Even from a young age – I’m talking 4th grade – I’d hear teachers tell my mom that I seemed so much more mature than my peers, that I didn’t need as much support, emotional or academic, as everyone else.  I got additional responsibilities and higher expectations.  The thing is, I wasn’t more mature.  I was just tall, so I looked more mature.  Eventually it kind of came true, though.  Other than my mom, who was single and working 2 jobs to keep me housed and fed, I didn’t really have anyone that would protect me or support me.  I guess no one thought I needed it, so I just got used to doing it myself.”

Bucky shakes his head, and you can’t tell if his expression is one of pity, sadness, anger, or something else.  

“But Lydia made everything a hundred times worse than it needed to be.  I already knew I was outside the norm, I didn’t need the reminders. But every time I’d hit a growth spurt she would share some nasty comment on it, as if telling me that boys didn’t like tall girls would somehow stop my bones from stretching.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Mmm hmm.  Despite my mom’s efforts – and the fact that being tall is actually pretty awesome – Lydia’s words really got under my skin, and even now they undermine my confidence sometimes.”  You gesture to yourself and the bar, “Obviously.  I should be at my cousin’s wedding right now.  I don’t go to many family functions anymore, because of her.  It just…it puts my head in a bad place.  You know, they say it takes five to seven positive comments to balance out one negative comment?  The negative is in everything she says.  Everything.  I love my family to pieces, but I just can’t handle her.”

“What did she say to you today?”  If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that Bucky is getting pissed.  

“She met me at the door of the chapel with a pair of her ugly black penny loafers.  Said that she told the photographer that I wasn’t allowed in any family pictures unless I was wearing them, because she didn’t want my Amazonian ass towering over everyone else and ruining the aesthetic.”

“Your…your ‘Amazonian ass’?”

“Eh,” you shrug and wave your hand dismissively.  “It’s not the first time I’ve been called an Amazon and far from the worst thing people have said. I mean, people say it to be cruel, but Amazons were fearless warriors.  I just think of it as being put in the same class as Wonder Woman.  The part that hurt was that she was prepared to make sure I wasn’t in the pictures, that she thought she could just erase my existence, simply because I’m too tall for her liking.”

Bucky’s mouth drops open. “I might be overstepping here, but what a heartless bitch.  No one should ever try to erase you, what a fucking idiot.”

“She browbeat Marie into dyeing her hair blonde for the wedding.  Marie hates it, but did it for her mom’s approval.”  You release a deep sigh, “But that’s Lydia, and that’s why I took my Amazonian ass out of there the second the ceremony was over.”

“Hmmmm.”  He gazes at you.  “You know she’s a princess, right?  

“Huh?”

“Wonder Woman.  She’s a princess. You know…Amazon Princess…it actually kinda suits you.”

“Seriously?”

“Damn right I’m serious. You’re tall?  So what.  You’re fuckin’ royalty.  Own it, Princess.  Correct ‘em. Make ‘em say it.  Amazon Princess.”  

“What?”

“Yep.  Say it with me.  Amazon Princess.”

You can’t help rolling your eyes, but there’s something undeniably sweet about the way he’s pressing the issue. It’s not good enough for him that it doesn’t bother you – he wants it to be seen as a term of empowerment and to let people know that’s how you see it.

The moment is interrupted when a booming voice comes through the sound system.  “Alright everybody, it’s ten o’clock!”  Someone stands on the stage, holding a mike and looking more than a little tipsy.  “You know what that means!”

The bar cheers, “Free jukebox!”

A line forms immediately, and the music starts.

“Wanna dance, Princess?”

“Really?  You’re going to call me ‘Princess’ now?”

He shrugs with darkening eyes and a suggestive smirk.  “If it’s okay with you.”

If he keeps looking at you the way he’s looking at you right now, he can call you whatever he damn well pleases.  But he doesn’t need to know that.  “Yeah,” you murmur.  His gaze is so intense that you have to look around the bar to break it and gather your thoughts.  You happen to see Peggy; she’s standing next to the blonde that had been playing pool with Bucky, so she must know him.  She catches your eye, sees who you’re with, and gives a thumbs up with a huge grin. Well, alright then.  You grin back and remember what she said.  “Let’s dance.”

Bucky stands, stopping when he sees you toeing off your heels.  “Woah, what’re you doing?”

“Taking off my shoes?”

He shakes his head, “Princess, you don’t need to do that.  I ain’t too fragile to dance with a woman taller than me.”

“I know,” and you do, “But I can’t dance in these.  And my feet hurt.”

When you stand, you’re almost eye to eye with Bucky; if he were barefoot as well, you would be.

People are still lined up at the jukebox, selecting their favorites.  It’s exactly the mix you would expect from a place like this – classic songs like Brown Eyed Girl, Summer of ’69, and Footloose with more modern tunes sprinkled in  – the kind of music that gets everyone up and dancing.

Bucky is a great dance partner, and you’re having an absolute blast.  You don’t think about your aunt, the wedding that you’re supposed to be at, or how you are, without a doubt, the tallest woman in the bar.  He laughs, showing off the crinkles at the corners of his eyes, obviously enjoying himself, too.  

The jukebox switches songs again, and on comes the relentless, even rhythm of Black Velvet.  For the first few measures, you just stare at each other.  It’s the first song to play that isn’t upbeat, and you don’t know what to do until he makes the first move and pulls you close – close enough to breathe each other in. He stares as Alannah Myles’ smokey voice drifts over the steady bass, then spins you so your back is to him.  

If Bucky’s a good dance partner for upbeat music, he’s even better when it’s slow like this, when every move counts.  He’s enough to handle you, and more than confident enough to do so.

Bucky stays behind you, mirroring you with his hands resting gently at your waist.  Your back is against his chest, but his hips keep their distance. Just to experiment, you press yours back and hear a guttural “fuck” before he intentionally shifts.

Bucky is absolutely nothing that you expected.  “You’re a gentleman.”

You can feel the dark chuckle rumbles through him. “I wouldn’t say that, Princess.”  He spins you around, pulling you close but not too close, and runs his thumb along your neck.  “I just ain’t in the habit of taking what ain’t mine.”

His voice sends a shiver down your spine.  Fuck. You like him.  One night stands aren’t usually your thing…but that’s not what this feels like.  He feels familiar.  Safe.  You like him, and he sure seems to like you. Your mind is already made up – you’ll take the chance and see what happens.  You hardly recognize your own voice when you ask, “Do you want me to be?”

“Thought I was makin’ it obvious.  Yes.”  He doesn’t hesitate and his eyes don’t leave yours.  “Are you offering?”  

You move your hand to the back of his neck and lightly scratch, watching with satisfaction as his pupils dilate even more than they were.  His lips part when you pull him closer, but he waits for you to close the kiss.

The second you do, his hands slide down to your lower hips before he tightens his grip.  He’s not timid; he kisses you as though you’re a well-known lover, deeply and intensely, without bothering with introductions.  

Bucky suddenly breaks the kiss, spinning you around again to pull your back against his chest.  This time, though, he allows his hips to rock into yours with the rhythm of the music, slow and steady and insatiable.  The way he moves makes it impossible not to think about fucking him; hell, you’re practically halfway there already.  His hands alternate holding you tightly to his body, maximizing contact, and running up and down your sides.  Your head falls back when his mouth finds your neck, and your legs go weak when his teeth nibble that spot beneath your ear.

You’ve never been so turned on in your life.

His voice is thick when his lips find your ear, “Wanna get out of here?”

You nod, taking his hand to lead him back to the table to collect your things.  “I’ve got a room at the motel a block away.”

“Good.”

When you take one last look around, you see Clint, still behind the bar, grinning at you like an absolute idiot.  Have fun!

“Oh my God,” you mutter under your breath, but you can’t completely hide the smile.

You step outside to find that the unbearable heat of the day has eased somewhat now that the sun has set. It’s still warm as the humid air kisses your skin, but with the breeze it’s sultry rather than oppressive.

You and Bucky look up at the same time – the stars are barely visible through the haze of clouds. There’s a thunderstorm rolling in on the western horizon.

Bucky walks you to your car, making sure you’re in safely before getting in his own truck and following you to the motel.  He jumps out of his vehicle and pushes you against the car the second you’re out of it, kissing you like it’s been days and not 2 minutes since his lips were last on yours.  

He doesn’t stop until the first few raindrops hit your skin.  Bucky looks up while you grab your purse and your aunt’s shoes out of the car, gathering them clumsily before locking the door.  It takes a minute for you to get your room key out of your purse, but you finally manage.

“Looks like the storm is already here.  Gonna be a good one if it got here that fast.”  He takes your hand, “Which room are you in?”

“Up the steps, furthest door on the left.”

Bucky leads you to the stairs as you both laugh while trying unsuccessfully to dodge the increasingly fat drops of rain.  He doesn’t let go of your hand until you need to unlock the door, and the second you hear the click of the lock, his lips are on yours again.  He pushes the door open and guides you through, closing the door behind him with a well-placed kick.  You drop your purse and the loafers, then step out of your heels as he toes his shoes off.  Still connected at the lips, he doesn’t see the things on the floor and trips over one of your stilettos.

“Oh shit!”  His eyes are huge, staring up into yours when he realizes he isn’t going to hit the floor because you’ve caught him by the arm. “Good catch, Princess.”  Both of you start laughing as he stands up straight, but the laughter dies out when his mouth find yours again.  Hungry hands roam your body while you reach beneath his shirt so your fingers can explore the taut muscles you just know are hiding beneath it.  Bucky grabs the collar behind his neck and pulls the shirt off altogether, and you are not disappointed.  “You like what you see, huh?”  

“Damn right I do.”  You’re breathless, pressing your lips against the salty skin of his collarbone.

“You sure know how to use that mouth of yours, don’t ya?”  He groans, then reaches down to grab the hem of your dress to lift it over your head before tossing it to the side.   “Goddamn, darlin.”  Bucky eyeballs you like a starving man at a feast before his mouth is back on yours, then moves his lips to the top of your breasts while he reaches around to unclasp your bra.  It joins your discarded dress as he pulls you close, groaning at the feel of your naked breasts pressed against his chest.  “I don’t know what the fuck I did to deserve you walkin’ into that bar tonight,” he bites your neck and you can’t stop the light whimper, “but I ain’t gonna complain. I’m gonna make you feel so good, Princess, I promise.”

You believe him.  And you cannot wait.

The two of you somehow manage to take a couple of steps toward the bed.  “I’ve wanted to do this since you smiled at me after givin’ me that chalk.  Those eyes, that smile, that dress, those fuckin’ sexy shoes.”  His hands find your hips, hooking your panties with his thumbs to push them down so you can step out of them.  “When we started dancin’ all I could think about was what it would feel like havin’ your legs wrapped around me, I want you so damn bad.”

You unbutton his jeans and fumble with the zipper, then pull his jeans and boxer briefs down at the same time, freeing a fully hard cock that is nothing short of glorious.  “Then either figure out how to multitask or stop talking and fuck me already.”

Bucky Barnes does not need to be told twice.

He kicks off his remaining garments before pushing you against the nearest vertical surface – which happens to be the middle of the window, where there’s a strip of metal supporting the two panes of glass.  You aren’t sitting on the ledge, just leaning against it to keep your balance.  It occurs to you that maybe you should close the curtains, but you’re too far gone to care enough to do anything about it.

“Don’t you worry, Princess. I can do both.”  His arm is looped around your waist to hold you steady while your upper back presses against the cold strip of metal.  You’ve got one arm hooked around his neck and the other steadying yourself on the edge of the windowsill.  Bucky reaches down, takes hold of your thigh and lifts it to his hip. He lets go of your waist just long enough to guide his cock to your entrance – and he can slide right in because you’re so damn wet – and fuck, the way he stretches you is delicious.

“Christ, you’re so damn fuckable,” he moans in your ear, sending shivers throughout your entire body. “So fucking perfect…don’t need a bed or a chair, I can fuck you anywhere I want.  I could just bend you over, wouldn’t even need a wall.”  Between his thrusts, which are as maddeningly steady and slow as his dancing, the cool metal of the windowpane at your upper back, the flickers of lightening, and the crashes of thunder, it’s almost sensory overload. He’s holding you so tightly that you can’t move your hips much, so you’re completely at his mercy.  And he knows it.

Each move he makes is a sin; the angle you’re at all but guarantees he’s stroking your clit with every move.  Delirious with the sensations flooding your brain, you can only babble nonsense.  

“What’s that, Princess? Use your words, darlin,” Bucky

“So…so good…I, huh…”

He chuckles darkly, “What was that?”

He’s not playing fair but you really don’t mind – his confidence with you is a rarity and is such a fucking turn on.  “More.”

“More?  You want me to fuck you harder?  Is that right?”  He waits for your nod before flashing a wicked grin lit by lightning, then adjusts his grip on your thigh.  “Anything you want, Princess, you get.”

His thrusts come harder and faster, multiplying your pleasure tenfold.  Then he shifts his hand on your thigh, changing the support from holding it up to pushing it back, opening you further and allowing him to go even deeper.

Oh, oh fuck…

Your entire body clenches with your orgasm, so tightly you can’t even breathe, and your mouth opens in a silent scream.

Bucky follows you just seconds later with a growl of your name against your neck and a few last ragged movements.

He releases your thigh as he gently pulls out, but he doesn’t take his arm from around your waist. You lift yourself onto the windowsill, pulling him between your legs as you hold each other close and catch your breath while the storm rages outside.  He keeps his face buried in your neck as you run your fingers up and down his back, calming you both.  The thunder rumbles violently while lightning dances in the sky, but it doesn’t worry you. You’ve always found comfort in the chaos of a storm.

Eventually your legs start to fall asleep, so you begin to move.  Bucky notices and hikes both of your thighs up to his hips before guiding your arms up around his neck.  “Hold on, Princess.”  He reaches down and lifts you, carrying you the 5 feet to the bed.  After laying you down, he begins kissing you again, then starts exploring your body.  “I love being cradled in your thighs like this, but there’s something else I wanna try,” he whispers as he starts crawling down.  “Now I can take my time with you.”

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out where he’s going.  “Really? Um, maybe I should shower first?” You’re sweaty from the heat of the day and just had some really incredible sex, so there’s no doubt in your mind that things are less than fresh down there.

“If you want to.”  He keeps on his slow descent, kissing everything in his path, “But I’m happy with you just like this.  I want you, right now, as you are.”

“But don’t you –“

“No.  I don’t.”  There’s a challenge in his eyes when he looks up from his destination.  “I don’t care.”  And then Bucky dives in, devouring your pussy like he’d devoured your mouth.  He’s got you writhing in moments, all worries gone. But he’s a goddamn tease now that the initial urgency has been satisfied, bringing you to the edge and then backing off again and again in a beautiful torture.

You can’t do dirty talk to save your life, but you’re about to start begging when he finally looks up, chin glistening before he wipes it away with the back of his hand.  “Fucking delicious.”  Between the sight of him, his voice, and the sensations you’re feeling, your brain just about short circuits.  Then his fingers start to circle your entrance, teasing you, making you want more before he slowly pushes two in and curls them to press against that spot, and fuck it can’t feel any better, but then somehow it does.  You pull a pillow over your face but he shifts, reaching up to yank it back off and throw it across the room.  “No way, Princess, I wanna hear what I do to you,” he rasps, watching you with hungry eyes and a feral grin.  You’re almost there…almost…and then he puts his mouth back on your clit and your universe implodes.

One orgasm blends into another and you allow him to push your limits until you can’t handle it anymore. “Stop,” you gasp, and he does immediately.  “I’m – it’s too much.  I…wow.” You’re so oversensitive at this point that if he breathes too hard, you might jump out of your skin.

Bucky crawls his way back up to you, dropping kisses on your hot skin as he goes.  “You’re incredible, you know that?  I love how your body responds to me, I fucking love it.”

He kisses you again, and despite your sensitivity, your hunger for him grows.  Sitting up, you pull him with you then push him down to the mattress.  “Fuck yes,” he whispers hoarsely when you straddle him and slide down, pausing to glide your pussy along his hardened cock, but then you slide down a little farther before spreading his legs so you can kneel between them.  

It’s impossible not to groan aloud when your hands find his thighs; thick, tight, and incredibly well formed, they look like they were sculpted by a generous god.  “I might have to ride one of these later.”

“Please –“  Bucky swallows hard and licks his lips as he watches you in the dim, sporadically flickering light, “Please do.”

One hand moves to palm his balls while you part your lips to take him in as far as you can, reveling in his heaviness on your tongue while using your hand to stroke the base of his cock. You give it a bit, waiting until he’s writhing beneath you before you pull off and redirect your attention.  His eyes grow wide when your fingers start moving down beneath his balls to his taint, pressing gently to find the very root of his cock which will then lead you to the spot you’re looking for.  Pressing firmly when you find it, you begin rubbing tight circles.

“What are you – oh.  Oh.  Oh, fuck, Princess, oh fuck!”

It’s ridiculously satisfying to see him reduced to the same whimpering, quivering puddle you were not so long ago.  You make him come once, twice, three times without ejaculating, just because you can.  

Bucky’s got his forearm resting over his eyes as he shakes his head, and you take advantage of his distraction to shift your body into position.  “Holy shit.” He’s breathless, shaking,  “I did not know I had a spot that could do that.  Fuck.  I – oh Christ…“

You slide onto his cock, smiling when his hands automatically reach to grip your hips – the biology and technique can be explained later.  Leaning over, you kiss him deeply then stretch your arms above him to grip the headboard.  Rocking your hips slowly, so slowly, you watch him watch you.

Bucky’s lips form words but nothing comes out except for sighs and soft moans as you become more and more intoxicated by his need for you.  His hands wander up and down, touching your breasts, hips, ass, and everything in between until he pulls you down for another kiss.  “Do you have any idea how fucking perfect you are?  You feel so good.  So fucking good.  Wanna make you feel good.  As good as you make me feel.”  Bucky kisses you again, sloppily, then wraps an arm tightly around you before flipping you both.

Now that you’re on the bottom and he’s back in control, he picks up the pace considerably.

You certainly aren’t about to complain.

His hands are grasping yours, holding them over your head, and your legs are locked around his hips as his thrusts eventually begin to lose their impeccable rhythm.  

Now neither of you are in control.

The pleasure has been steadily building, an inevitable tidal wave on the horizon.  Maybe it’s his confidence, maybe he’s naturally gifted, maybe it’s that his body seems to fit with yours just right.  Whatever it is, this is by far the best sex you’ve ever had, and despite already having multiple orgasms, your appetite for him seems to be insatiable because you’re greedy for the next one.

“Fuck, Princess, it feels so good having those legs wrapped around me,” he pants, “Goddamn, I can – I can feel you’re right there.  I ain’t gonna last much longer, come for me, darlin, give it to me now.  Oh Christ yes, that’s right, just – just like that.”

Your body obeys, giving him exactly what he wants.  The velvet sound of his voice, his incessant dirty talk, the way he smells and tastes – everything about him adds to your pleasure induced stupor.  The orgasm is so powerful that everything but Bucky goes black, and the only thing keeping you tethered to this world is the way he chants your name as he comes.

His body continues to cover yours as you wait for your racing pulse to slow.  He presses kisses to your neck, cheeks, lips, and eyelids, and finally your forehead before he gently lifts himself off to lay next to you. “C’mere,” he pulls you to him, and when you rest your head on his chest you can hear how fast his heart is still beating.

Thoroughly sated and soothed by the feel of his fingertips on your skin, it’s tempting to give in and fall asleep.  But not yet. Not if you want to sleep through the night.

Reluctantly, you rise. Maybe, if you’re really fast, maybe he’ll still be here when you get back.  It’s probably not the sane thing to do, but you really, really want him to stay the night.

“Where you going?”  Is that trepidation you hear in his voice?

You smile as you take in the sight of him lying in the bed, disheveled and clearly satisfied. “I need to shower.  And wash my face – I need to get my makeup off.  My eyes are getting itchy.”

“Can I join you?”  He laughs at your raised eyebrow, “No, Princess, not like that.  I’m gonna need some time to recover.”

“That’s good to know,” you smirk, “I was starting to wonder if you were a god wearing a mortal’s skin.”

Bucky blushes.  It’s adorable.  “Nah, no god here.  Just a man that’s never wanted a woman so bad before.  Still do,” he shrugs, “Just too worn out at the moment to do anything about it. You’re somethin’ special, I hope you know that.”

It’s your turn to feel the heat rise in your cheeks, but you hold out your hand to help him up.  

The shower is tender and sweet, full of soft kisses and softer touches.  This man just keeps surprising you.

He’s toweling off his hair when his eyes meet yours in the vanity mirror.  “Is it okay if I stay?”

A slow smile spreads across your face – you couldn’t stop it if you tried.  “I’d like that.”  You slip into fresh panties and a tank top, turning to face him fully to admit, “I’d like that a lot.”  Bucky beams at you before pressing a soft kiss to your lips and heads to the bed. You finish up a few minutes later and crawl in, suddenly feeling very self-conscious.  There’s nothing to hide behind – no makeup, no cocktail dress, no drink.  It’s just you, and this is a state that very few people see you in; no one you’ve ever dated has seen you this vulnerable until months have gone by.  Some didn’t see you this way at all.  “Don’t look too close.  I’m very unglamorous and monochrome without makeup.”

Bucky’s blue eyes stare in yours.  “We’ll have to agree to disagree.”  His fingers trace your freshly moisturized skin.  “I think you’re beautiful.”

Outside, the thunderstorm has exhausted itself.  He pulls you close and breathes you in, and you both fall asleep to the sound of gentle rain.

***

When the sun peeks through the gap in the curtains at 6 am, you’re not even mad that you’re awake.  The sight of Bucky lying peacefully next to you is something you’re thoroughly enjoying.

“You’re staring.”  His voice, deep and gravelly, rumbles lightly into the silence as he opens his eyes.  “It’s because I’m decent and gorgeous with a personality, right?”

“What?”

Bucky smirks as he stretches and sits up.  “I should probably come clean.  The bartender from last night?  My parents took him and his sister in after their parents were killed in an accident. Clint and Carrie were lucky to survive – he lost his hearing and six months of memories and she was in the ICU for 3 weeks.  He and I have practically been brothers since grade school.”

It takes a minute, but you finally put the pieces together.  Oh.  Well, shit.

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop; I was just really surprised to see you sign so I didn’t look away fast enough. I’m sorry.”

You sit up and slap him lightly on the shoulder.  “So, you knew what I asked him?

His smile broadens as he gives you puppy dog eyes.  Yes. Please don’t be mad.

You try not to smile back as you think about it but lose the battle and shrug.  “I’m not mad.  Maybe a little embarrassed, but we’ve known each other for what, 12 hours?  It’s not like you can tell me everything about you in that short amount of time.”  You give him some serious side eye, “Although you could have mentioned that when I told you what I do for a living.”

He studies your eyes like he’s trying to see into your soul.  “I told you a lot, though.”

“You did.  We both did.”  It surprises you, more than a little, that you aren’t horrified at how open and honest you’ve been with him.

Bucky reaches his hand up to cup your cheek and he pulls you in for a kiss.  “Good morning, beautiful.”  It seems like he doesn’t want to part, because he rests his forehead against yours.

Somehow your hand finds his neck, and you gently rub your thumb along his jawline.  “Good morning, Bucky.”

His stomach grumbles. Loudly.  “Wanna grab some breakfast, Princess?”

It makes you a stupid amount of happy that he’s not ready to leave you just yet.  “Yeah.  I just need a little bit to get ready.”

A half hour later, Bucky opens the passenger side door of his pickup.  “Your chariot, Princess.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, taking his offered hand and climbing in.  It’s an older truck, one with a bench seat, and it smells of hay, Bucky’s cologne, and sweat.  It’s not what you’d expected, but it suits him.

In this tiny little town nothing is open at this hour on a Sunday morning, so Bucky pulls his pickup onto the interstate to head to a fast food restaurant a few miles away.  You take the time to look around – the area is really pretty and reminds you of the drive to your grandparents’ house, all farmland and pastures.  Of course, you can’t help but stare at the horses whenever you pass them.  “Whoa.  They must breed Appaloosas.”

Bucky takes a quick glance out your window.  “Yeah, that’s the Carter farm.  They raise Appaloosas and alpacas.”  He’s quiet for a moment.  “You like horses?  Not everyone can randomly pick out that breed.”

“I love horses,” you murmur, smiling broadly when you spot a few foals among the herd.  You’re too busy looking at them to notice how he looks at you.

***

Breakfast is simple, just something picked up at a drive thru window, but that’s perfectly fine with you. Bucky doesn’t pull back onto the interstate though, he instead starts driving the winding country roads.  You don’t mind in the least; you simply sip your coffee, content to be exactly where you are.  Considering the hour, you aren’t even grumpy.  Stealing glance at the reason why, you hide your smile and take another sip.

Bucky’s fingers drum almost nervously against the wheel, then he seems to make a decision as he brakes sharply.  “Sorry, Princess,” he smiles sheepishly, “You up for a picnic?  I know a spot.”

His smile is infectious. “Yeah.”

He takes the left he stopped so quickly for, and then another left onto a dirt road, and a mile later he turns onto what looks like a seldom used service trail leading up to a fenced in pasture.  “Just a sec,” he pulls the truck to a stop, then gets out to open a gate.  Bucky quickly climbs back in, drives the truck through about 20 feet before turning in a tight circle to face the road, and closes the gate behind him before stepping up to your door.  “I got some blankets, do you want to sit in the truck bed with me?”

“Of course.”

He gets the blankets and spreads them out while you grab the food and coffees, handing them to him before you climb in after him.

“I would’ve helped you in, Princess.”

“Bucky.  I’m not five feet tall.  I can get into the back of a truck.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m fully aware of that.  But unlike the other shmucks you seem to have come across in your life, I ain’t gonna make you do something by yourself just because you can.  You deserve consideration and chivalry, too.”

What do you even say to that?  He’s the exact opposite of pretty much everything you’ve ever known.  It’s nice.

He sits down against a box that is attached to the back of the cab.  “C’mere.  You look cold.”  

It was hot when you’d packed your overnight bag so you’ve only got a tee shirt and shorts on, and luckily a hoodie that just happened to be in the backseat of your car.  “I am, a little,” you admit as you curl into his side, allowing him to cover your legs with another blanket that he’s pulled out.

He eats one handed, keeping an arm around you to keep you close and warm.

Everything smells clean and fresh now that the storm went through, and the morning air is chilly but fresh with the light breeze.  The radio plays softly, drifting through the open windows as you and Bucky eat and watch the fluffy white clouds drift by.  It’s the best picnic you’ve ever had, hands down.

“So where are we? It’s beautiful here.”

“My parents’ farm.”

You turn to stare at him. “This is where you grew up?”

“Yep.”

“Lucky.”

“I am.  Hey, I wanna introduce you to someone.”  He stands suddenly, not waiting for a reply.  You’re in the middle of a pasture, who the hell is there for you to meet?  Bucky brings his fingers to his lips and lets out the sort of piercing whistle that you’ve never managed to master.

And then…and then…

“Are you fucking serious.” Eyes wide, you bring yourself to a kneeling position as a steel grey Percheron comes galloping full speed towards the truck.  “Bucky!”

He turns toward you, face almost split in two by his grin.  The horse slows down, circling the truck and whickering before coming to a full stop right at the tailgate.  

“I’d like you to meet Sergeant.”  

“Oh my God, Bucky, he’s stunning,” you breathe, unable to help yourself as you slowly move forward to sit at the edge of the open tailgate.   Intelligent eyes take you in before a velvet muzzle finds your hand.  “Sorry buddy, I don’t have any treats for you.  But I do have ear scratches,” you murmur, firmly stroking the planes of his face before scratching behind his ears.  You giggle when he sighs, and again when he mouths gently at your hair.  

Bucky beams with pride as he pulls an apple out of the box you’d been leaning against, feeding it to Sergeant before sitting on the tailgate next to you.  “I’ve had him for 20 years.  I got him when he was just a colt.  Trained him myself.  He’s one of the reasons why I choose to work remotely – I just can’t imagine not getting to see him.”

“I don’t blame you at all, I don’t think I could’ve left this sweetheart either.”  Sergeant blows gently in your face, then nuzzles you hard enough to push you backwards.  “Oh my goodness, you are just a big baby, aren’t you, Sarge?  Oh, you like that?  That spot right there?”  You laugh lightly as the giant horse stretches his neck toward you, seeming to thoroughly enjoy how you scratch just beneath where his mane grows.

“He likes you.”  Sergeant looks over when Bucky speaks, but then turns back to you.

“Well, I like him.” Feeling eyes on you, you turn to Bucky. “What, are you jealous?” you tease.

“Yes.”  Bucky cradles your face in both his hands and begins kissing you.  Before you know it, you’re lying in the truck bed with him, making out like a couple of teenagers out past curfew.  Time slows even as it moves, and you’d swear the minutes stretched into a blissful forever as you lay in his embrace.  But the real world likes to force its way in, and the distant sound of a car’s horn brings you both back to your senses.

Sergeant is about 50 feet away, grazing peacefully as Bucky pulls out his phone to check the time.  “We, uh, we should get going.  I don’t know how much longer I can keep my hands to myself, and my folks will be drivin’ by on their way to church in about 15 minutes.”

“Don’t feel like scarring them forever with the view of your naked ass?”  You sit up and start pulling up the blankets to fold them.

“Honestly?”  He shakes his head, “They’d probably cheer and then invite you over for dinner.”

Pausing your movements, you let that one sink in.  “…Oh. Well that would be just as awkward as the alternative.”

He shrugs.  “They’ve been dropping some not so subtle hints that they think I should settle down.  They’d be thrilled just to know I spent the night with you.”

You tilt your head a bit as you watch him.  “Don’t you date?”

“Nah, not really.”

“Really?  Why not?”

He shrugs again as you hand him the blankets, then he turns his back to you as he puts them in the box. “I dunno.  I guess I just hadn’t found anyone I wanted to actually spend time with.”  

“Huh.”

“What?”  There’s a challenge in his eyes when he turns back around.  “That so weird?”

“No, I get it.  You definitely shouldn’t settle.  I guess…” he’s staring at you now, waiting for you to finish, “I guess I’m just a little surprised that someone hasn’t snatched you up yet.  Where I come from, you’re quite a catch.”

“You think so?  How’s that?”

Is he baiting you? Teasing you?  Genuinely curious?  It’s impossible to tell.  “I know so. You’re smart, kind, funny, and a stupid amount of gorgeous,” you pause to level a look at him, “but I suppose you already knew I thought the last part.”

Bucky barks out a laugh but at least has the good grace to look sheepish.

“You have an absolutely beautiful horse, which wins points with pretty much every person I know. Your parents took in a couple of kids when they needed a family, and you learned a new language so you could keep communicating with your friend.  You have every opportunity to move to another city, but you stay here to be close to those you care about.  And,” it’s dumb, really, how you’re suddenly too shy to meet his eyes, “You’re really good in bed.  Like, really really good.  You’re the whole damn package.”  When you finally look up, he’s staring at you again.  “There’s a perfectly real possibility that you’re a total asshole and that you’ve been acting this whole time – I’ve only known you for a day – but I haven’t seen any cracks.  I get the definite impression that I met the real Bucky, and he is one hell of a catch.”  

“Huh.”  He hops down and turns, holding out his hand to help you down.  Do you need to take it?  No, but you love that he offers anyway.  He doesn’t let go after he helps you out, instead choosing to hold your hand as he walks you to the passenger side.  Bucky only lets go because he has to, and once the gate is secured behind the truck, he takes your hand and holds it for the entire drive back to the motel.

***

Ever the gentleman, Bucky walks you back to your motel door.  

“Do you have to go?” The words are out before you can think too long on them.

He’s shaking his head before your entire sentence is out, “No.  Not if you don’t want me to.”

You don’t even care if you sound needy or clingy.  “Please stay.”

Just like you learned last night, Bucky Barnes does not need to be told twice.

At least the drapes are closed this time.

***

A sharp rap at the door and an equally sharp call of your name interrupts your post-lovemaking bliss.  It’s your aunt.

“I don’t wanna,” you whine.

Bucky bristles, sensing your distress.  “That her?”

You nod before pulling a pillow over your head.  “I’m just going to pretend I’m still asleep.  Maybe she’ll go away.”

“Don’t worry Princess, I got you.”

You feel the bed shift and move the pillow.  “Bucky!”

He turns back to you, eyebrows raised, as another insistent knock echoes through the room.

“You’re naked!”  It comes out as a stage whisper, making you both snicker.

He flashes a shit eating grin.  “So?”

Is he really gonna…

With a dramatic huff, he stops to find his boxer briefs and quickly tugs them on.  Kind of.  They’re sitting awfully low.

First there’s the sound of the door swinging open, then Bucky’s voice, bored and borderline intimidating.  “Yeah?”

The following silence is deafening and you almost wish the room was set up so you could see your aunt’s face, but all you can see is the back half of Bucky’s sensational body leaning in the doorframe.

“Uh, hi?  I’m looking for my niece?  I thought this was her room?”

“You mean the tall, gorgeous drink of water?  About my height?  Killer smile? Was wearing, uh, let’s see, what was she wearing?  It’s been awhile and she ain’t wearin’ much of anything now.”

The blood rushes to your face, but you can’t even imagine how embarrassed Lydia is right now.  The thought is nothing short of glorious.    

“Uh,” he snaps his fingers a few times, feigning concentration, “Oh!  A black dress with the sexiest heels imaginable?  Sound about right?”

“Well, yes, but –“

“Yeah, she’s here.” His tone is still bored, but you think you can pick up on an edge of amusement.  Your aunt must be squirming by now, and it’s all you can do to not start cackling.

“I thought…well…the gift opening is in an hour.  I thought she was going to meet us for breakfast before –“

“She won’t be goin’ to the gift opening.  Or breakfast, but don’t you worry, ma’am.  I made sure she ate something.”

The not so subtle innuendo almost makes you choke on your own spit.

“You can’t – are you holding my niece hostage or something?”

He laughs darkly but yells out, “Princess, am I holding you hostage?”

Your own laugher, unable to be contained any longer, bursts out.  “Nope!” you call out, absolutely feeling as gleeful as you sound.

Lydia is practically apoplectic by now.  “But what about the gift opening?”

“She doesn’t. Want.  To go,” he growls, stooping down.  “And here, she doesn’t want your fucking ugly shoes, either.  Stop projecting your insecurities onto her – she’s perfect the way she is.”  Bucky closes the door – perhaps a little harder than strictly necessary – and you hear the sound of the lock sliding into place before he saunters back to the bed.

“Thank you for doing that, Buck.  I – holy shit, I cannot believe you answered the door like that.”  Your eyes are glued to how low his boxers are sitting – he’s showing more than just his happy trail.

“What?  Everything’s technically covered.”

“Bucky.”

“Yes, Princess?”

“I – I’m not even sure how you managed it, but you basically turned your boxers into the dick version of a pasty.”

He grins, “Like I said. Everything’s technically covered.”  Bucky moves closer, crawling into the bed until he hovers above you. “But not for long,” he murmurs, pressing kisses to your neck.  “Now, the way I figure it, we got another two hours till checkout.”

“Mmmmm…” you’d rather not think of the time.  It’s necessary if you don’t want someone from housekeeping to accidentally walk in, but you don’t want this to end.

He kisses you deeply before pulling back, looking just a little hesitant.  “And then, if you want, we could continue this back at my place? If you’re not in a hurry to get home?”

He’s kept his lips to himself for a few seconds, so your head manages to clear enough to process what he just said.  “What? Really?”

“Yeah.  I mean, I get it if you have to get back.  But,” he shrugs awkwardly, his current vulnerability at stark odds with his usual confidence, “I like you.  I’d like to spend the day with you if you’re free.” He kisses your neck again and nibbles your ear.  “We can do more of this.  I like this, too.  A lot.” He pulls back to look you in the eye. “But we could also do some talkin’. Maybe you’d let me take you out to a nice dinner before you head home?”

A smile, broad and genuine, stretches across your face.  “I’d like that.  I’d really like that.”  Even if you never see Bucky again after today, you’re hungry for whatever time you can get with him.   He’s addictive and you’ve never in your life felt more satisfied and safe than you do right now.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

His borderline cocky confidence returns as his hands resume roaming the landscape of your body. “Good,” he mouths against your throat, and resumes his worship of you.  “It’s gonna be a good day, Princess.  A good fuckin’ day.”

Tags:  @hellomissmabel​ @howdoesoneadult​  @nykitass​ @danimuhle​ @iwillbeinmynest​  @shifutheshihtzu​ @passiononfire​​  @learisa​​ @widowvinter​​  @kaaatniss​ ​ @ladylizzieofdarbyshire​​ @denialanderror​  @k-nighttt​​ @givemethatgold​​ @manders2487​ ​ @afangirlrambles​​ ​ ​ @polkadottedpillowcase​​ @bluebrrn​ @saysay125​​  @aikibriarrose​ @saharzek​ @mmauricee​ @imhereforbvcky​  @whenallsaidanddone​ @supernatural508​  @scarlettsoldier​  @natalie-nightcourt​  @im-beautifully-sewn​  @lovemarvelousfics​  @feistytravel​  @tbetz0341  @nearly-whitches​  @jamie-leah​  @shliic  @dessinemoiunehistoire​  @lucywinchester2000​  @solarbarnes  @a-proper-chicken​  @movingonto-betterthings​ @seekingkairos​  @jamesbarnesappreciationclub​  @part-time-patronus​  @natashasnight  @fairislesheets  @new-romanticz1989​

[rosethornewrites]

Fic Tag Game

Grabbed from @merinnan

Name: RoseThorne (Rose Thorne on FFN). I’ve gone by this since the late 90s online.

Fandoms: Just gonna list the ones I’ve written for.

Star Trek: None of my writing exists online, as I started writing this before the internet was a big thing, back in the early-mid 90s when I was a preteen. Primarily TOS.

Yu Yu Hakusho: My first real fandom experience. Started writing terrible fic when I was 16, largely Hiei/Kurama. I was involved in LiveJournal RP for this series for a while, too. I only like a few of my fics now, but I wrote a lot. Also had some cracky crossovers (including Rainbow Brite and Star Trek: Voyager). Ran a fanfiction contest for a couple of years. Abandoned a bunch of fics here.

Gundam Wing: I hated the show, but loved the fandom. There was, unfortunately, lots of drama in said fandom (I had a weird stalker for a while), but I enjoyed it while I was involved. Helped with a fanfiction contest a few times. Eventually lost interest.

Animorphs: Only wrote one fic, wasn’t heavily involved in the fandom.

Boy Meets Boy: This was a webcomic series I was really into for a while, and I wrote a fic for it.

Slayers: This is entirely @chrissysky’s fault. While we did a YYH MST3K-type fic, we brought in the Slayers cast, and I fell hard into this series. I wrote a lot of Kinkfest, all Xellos/Zelgadis, and even ran a Slayers Kinkfest in an LJ community before that died. I still have a fic I’d like to finish, and a one-shot in progress.

Pandora Hearts: Somewhat short-lived obsession that a Slayers friend got me into. I RPed for a while, but the crowd I was with got really clique-y and weirdly possessive over their headcanons so I bailed. I stayed out of fandom except a few Slayers fics for several years after this. Mostly Break/Liam.

Miraculous Ladybug: An old fandom friend, @norakwami, who I met through Yu Yu Hakusho, got me into this. Was really into this for about 5 months, but the fandom is super drama-filled with salt wars and all sorts of weird stuff. I loved writing for it, though. I’m “on hiatus” and don’t know when I’ll pick my fics back up, but the hiatus was caused when someone implied they’d dox me if I didn’t leave the fandom, and it really soured me on the series. My main series involved Marinette/Kagami and Luka/Adrien. 

The Untamed / Mo Dao Zu Shi: Current fandom, for which I’ve written potentially more words than any other fandom I’ve been in? Maybe? Hard to say with Slayers and Yu Yu Hakusho. @chrissysky got me into this at the beginning of the pandemic, when the shit went down in the ML fandom, and it’s been a really great experience thus far. WangXian is just amazing.

Tropes: Oh geez. I’m actually on TV Tropes for one of my Slayers fics, but I don’t remember what for. Hurt/Comfort and Angst are my main ones. I’ve expanded into others over the years, particularly when it comes to MDZS/The Untamed, wherein I love Found Family/Family of Choice, Time Travel, and Canon Divergence. 

Fic I Spent the Most Time On: Hands down, Detour, one of my Slayers fics. I’ve been writing on this fic on and off for over 10 years.

Favorite Fic(s) I’ve Written: Probably my more recent ones, and I largely mean those written within the last 10 years? It’s hard to choose.

Fic I Spent the Least Time On: I have a bunch of shorter one-shots that just popped into my head and wrote themselves, like The Lucky Charm for ML, or  藕断丝连 for MDZS/The Untamed.

Longest Fic: Detour, for Slayers, which is nearly 80K words and 34 chapters long.

Shortest Fic: Hubris, for Miraculous Ladybug, which is 95 words.

Most Hits/Kudos/Comments/Bookmarks/Subscriptions: For hits, bookmarks, and subscriptions the thread may stretch or tangle but it will never break for MDZS/The Untamed. For kudos and comments,  The Rebellion of Adrien Agreste for Miraculous Ladybug.

Fic You Want to Rewrite/Expand On: For expansion, Taisetsu, as I’d like to explore Zel and Miwan’s travels together. I’m kind of slowly rewriting a Slayers Harry Potter AU that @chrissysky and I wrote.

Share a Bit of a WIP:

From a second fic in the corporate espionage AU series, moonlight falls:

Wei Ying just wished the aftermath hadn’t meant reporters hounding him and A-Zhan almost constantly. They’d had to start screening their calls and if they did go out, it was wearing disguises and usually separately. 

It had started when Jin Guangshan’s shitty nephew, who could only get a job at some hack blog site pretending to be news and to have journalistic integrity, had attempted to ambush interview them while they were shopping for groceries. 

He had the nerve to imply Wei Ying had somehow framed Meng Yao and Jin Guangshan. 

On the bright side, the camera had been livestreaming, and A-Zhan had verbally eviscerated him and implied that he probably had a hand in the corporate espionage,that maybe the investigation should look into him. 

“I recall your name and the insulting things you said and wrote about Wei Ying. You claimed, without evidence, there was a connection with Compu-Jiang, and then they took a financial hit. Trying to take out your uncle’s competition?”

Jin Zixun’s face had turned interesting colors and he cut the camera, but the damage was done. They learned the next day he was canned from the pseudo-journalist farce and the FBI had declared him a “person of interest” and seized his electronics.

I Tag: Anyone who wants to participate! This was fun!

[desperatepleasures]

Guess What! Every Song From ‘The Sound Of The Life Of The Mind’ By Ben Folds Five Is Secretly About MDZS!

Erase Me

as all breakup songs, this is very clearly about wwx and jc’s falling out. lots of anger and resentment and oh no they’re really not complete without each other!

What was our home Paper not stone A lean-to at most And when you pulled your half away Gravity won

Michael Praytor, Five Years Later

this baby’s about all the people wwx runs into a bunch of times throughout his life! some of whom he forgets exist (su she, jin zixun), and some of whom he simply did not think would reappear in his life. then he gets yeeted into mxy’s body, almost immediately runs into lwj, and:

It was the opposite of 'Fire and Rain' You know the song I never thought I'd see this guy again But I was wrong

Sky High

one of many wangxian songs you’ll find on this album. this one’s particularly bittersweet. vibes of their falling out before the guanyin temple scene?

Last night at the bar, I was wrong, I was only hurting And you were acting too polite When we held onto the pain, through the storms and the rain Like a crumpled, empty, discarded Newports box

and WORSE: vibes of their parting at the end of cql. :(

The brightness of air Out walking somewhere, and when they ask you Just tell em that you knew me back when, under the blue sky

The Sound Of The Life Of The Mind

this is a blatant lwj character song. a character who thinks themself Above all the Teen Drama going on around them and tries to focus on Learning? who is quiet on the outside but on the inside their thoughts are running wild? that’s hanguang-jun babyyyy! 

But Sara, well, she just can't bear The stupidity, the boredom, the grind She stays at school so that she can hear The sound of the life of the mind

And it's noisy up there

On Being Frank

ben folds really thought he could fool me into not realizing this was a wangxian song by explicitly writing this song about frank sinatra’s tour manager. but he went and wrote a song about dealing with the death of a person you shaped your entire life around.

don’t worry mr folds. i saw your wangxian vibes.

But home for me was always someone else, you know That shadows always fall when the sun goes down

Draw A Crowd

this song has wwx vibes in a way i can’t fully articulate. maybe because it’s a seemingly jokey song but it’s really about being miserable and disconnected with the life that you worked really hard to achieve. gives me vibes of sunshot-era wwx trying to convince his family he’s the Same Old Wei Ying but really he’s dead inside. 

I ordered something, it took a while This morning something was on my doorstep What's this I'm holding? Time capsule order 'Cause I'm a brand new man, and I don't think I want it I don't think I want it A row of flags hangin' behind me A garden of mics and questions, and photo-flashes blind me And I'm so high, I can't recall my statements I only know I made 'em because my face vibrated

Do It Anyway

ah yes, the most fanmixable ben folds five song of all time. this song rocks. the bassline absolutely fucks. the music video has fraggles in it. and it’s a wangxian song..... 

There will be times you might leap before you look There'll be times you'll like the cover and that's precisely why you'll love the book Do it anyway

No, seriously guys, it’s a wangxian song!

Tell me what you said you'd never do Tell me what you said you'd never say Read me off that list of things 'cause I used to not like you But now I think you're OK

NO FOR REAL! WANGXIAN!

Call it surrender but you know that that's a joke And the punchline is you were never actually in control But still, surrender anyway

AND a solid wwx character song!

Despite your grand attempts the chips are set to fall And all the stories you might weave cannot negotiate them all Do it anyway

....and that’s me being restrained and not just posting all the lyrics. seriously, guys, what was ben thinking? he was thinking wangxian is what he was thinking.

Hold That Thought

as always i am gonna ignore the first verse of this song. HOWEVER. more wangxian but from lwj’s perspective this time. 

I was shown the thirty-six Ways I'm not available On a simple, easy chart

Later on that evening On the beach in Santa Monica It was a very risky start

Suppose the stupid chart is right In a year will you still feel the same way? Ah, well, you hold that thought And I'll hold that thought, too

Away When You Were Here

well lads. we’ve reached the strongest jiang “daddy issues” cheng character song in existence. congratulations, ben. you wrote a narrator who is mourning their father’s death while simultaneously mourning the relationship they never had with their father even when he was alive. 

Sometimes a phrase or a manner that's you Comes through me, it goes in a flash It's a frame, it's a blink like life Oh and how much now should we pay for the past Cause you could age with grace if I freed you in my mind

But I loved you then And I love you now All the things I wished I'd asked When I'm lost in clouds I remember how I was robbed and I was blessed And you were away even when you were here

every day of my life i think about the line “how much now should we pay for the past?” in a jiang cheng context and that is like 95% of the reason i need therapy. 

Thank You For Breaking My Heart

this is a pretty straightforward angsty wangxian song. it hits hard in a “lwj after the cave scene in mdzs right before wwx dies” way, and in a “lwj asking wwx to come to cloud recesses” way. 

Thank you for breaking my heart Now I know that it's in there I left it wide open and asked you to stay But you know better

OH NOW I’M SAD. DON’T WORRY BABY. YOU’LL GET HIM EVENTUALLY.

ben, you ended this album on such a depressing note. but it’s a great album! 

[jaebaebie]

Coffee, Tea or Me?

Lee Know ~ “You’re welcome, my worst customer.”

Minho’s the cute barista who writes encouraging notes on a coffee addicts cup, who knew a relationship could brew between the two?

Warning : really fluff and really cringy worthy pick up lines ahead (I’m sorry)

“No, Y/N.. No more.”

Minho argued, pushing your pink plastic Starbucks cup back towards you. He was refusing to give you coffee despite you offering to pay twice the actual price. And you were in desperate need of caffeine in your body.

“Minho, it’s finals week. I need your coffee to stay awake.”

You said, making sure to flash him the best set of puppy dog eyes you could give him in hopes that he would give in to you. He sighed, flashing you a smirk,

“Nice try, Y/N. But I’m not going to be responsible for your death by caffeine overdose.”

“I didn’t even drink that much!”

You argued, flailing your arms around. It was nearly dusk and the cafe was almost empty with only a few of the other regulars still engrossed in their own work. Some of them have looked in your direction, chuckling softly at the argument that seemed to have become a routine for the two of you.

“Y/N! You’ve had six cups in less than five hours! I’m sure there’s enough caffeine in your body to keep you awake!” Minho exclaimed, disregarding the looks of the other customers in the cafe.

“But—“

“If I make you a drink, will you finally shut up?” Minho sighed, cutting you off before you came up with another excuse. He knew that he was powerless against you and your love for coffee. Saying you were addicted to coffee was an understatement. Coffee was your oxygen. Something you couldn’t live without,, especially when you had your finals right around the corner.

“I won’t bother you the rest of the day.” You smiled, bouncing on your toes in excitement as he took your cup from your hands, sighing in disbelief.

“Thank you, my favourite barista.”

“You’re welcome, my worst customer.”

You pouted your bottom lip out while he sent a cheeky wink towards your direction, turning to finally make your drink.

That was your relationship with Minho. Your first visit to the cafe was supposed to be temporary. Your then-usual cafe was closed for renovations, so you had no other choice but travel to the other side of the campus to get your daily dose of coffee. It turned out that Minho’s coffee was the greatest you’ve ever tasted. Without even knowing it, you found yourself travelling across campus simply for his coffee. Plus, the cafe always had good songs, was open 24 hours and had really cute baristas. Perfect for you to have a ‘productive’ day.

While you busied yourself with Biology back at your favourite window table, Minho placed your drink in front of you,

“This one will definitely wake you up.”

He flashed you his signature smile. The one where his eyes crinkled into little moons that sparkled. The one which made all the female customers fall for him. Including you. His smile was just so contagious that a smile had also formed on your face while you placed the tip of the straw in your mouth.

Just as fast as it appeared, your smile vanished as you face scrunched up from the unexpected sourness that hit your tongue. What happened to the comforting bitterness of your iced americano?

“Ugh—! Is this.... pure lemon juice?”

You pushed your cup away, despising whatever poison your barista had put in it.

“Freshly squeezed.” Minho replied, his handsome smile replaced with a smirk, “I told you it would wake you up.”

“How very thoughtful of you.”

It really did wake you up, though. Your tastebuds tingled from the sudden acidity and it felt like your brain became alert from the sudden shock. Despite his special drink doing the trick, you glared at Minho’s back as he returned behind the counter, preparing another ‘innocent’ drink for a customer who stared at him lovingly. You rolled your eyes after noticing her pull her dress up, revealing more of her thighs. And you rolled your eyes even more when Minho turned to give her her drink, a bright smile on his face.

What a flirt

Just as you continued to judge the two quietly, another barista had appeared behind the counter. You decided to seize the opportunity to finally get your coffee while Minho was busying himself with the girl who was definitely not good enough for him. But then again, who were you to judge who your barista should or shouldn’t date?

Keeping low, you approached the new barista. He was definitely new as you had never seen him before. His coffee couldn’t possibly be as good as Minho’s, but it was better than the terrible concoction Minho gave you.

“Hey, what can I get for you?” He asked cheerfully.

“Hi, Jeongin.” You greeted, taking note of his nametag, “Could I please get a large iced americano?”

“Su—- Um, sorry. If you don’t mind me asking.. Is your name Y/N, by any chance?”

You nodded, “Yes, it is. How did you know?”

Jeongin shrugged his shoulders, “Sorry, Y/N. Minho told me not to serve you any more coffee.”

Your jaw dropped in disbelief, a scoff leaving your lips. Minho slid beside Jeongin, hanging his arm around the boy’s shoulders with a smug look on his face,, as if to say ‘Haha, I won’

Your shoulders slumped in defeat, scrunching your nose before you turned your heels, accepting your fate... A coffee-less study session. A nightmare.

Having no coffee, you settled for a short nap on the cafe table to get your energy back up. When you finally woke up, you were not only surprised to see that it had become dark outside, but also surprised by the takeaway coffee cup on your table.

You picked it up, noticing the familiar handwriting written in black ink on the cup holder.

95% chocolate, 5% espresso

hang in there !! :-)

You smiled, scanning the near empty cafe for your favourite barista. His shift had probably ended because he was no longer behind the counter. You took a sip, enjoying the sweet and perfect taste of Minho’s perfect coffee-making skills. Truly a perfect barista.

The days that followed were nothing but torturous for you. Often, you woke up later than desired, leaving you little to no time to get your favourite coffee before you had to rush off for your exam. Minho took notice of this and he always had a takeaway cup of coffee ready for you to run off with.

He always wrote notes on them. Sometimes, it was the typical encouraging quotes that gave you a slight boost in confidence. Though, your favourite notes were the cheesy pick up lines he wrote on your cup, which gave you a little laugh to ease your stress just minutes before the exam.

Like the one he wrote on the day of your math exam,

I heard you’re good at algebra, can you replace my X without asking Y?

Or like the one he wrote on the day of your chemistry exam,

You look familiar, didn’t we take a class together? I could’ve sworn we had chemistry

Your favourite, though, was the one he wrote on the day of your last paper

I’d never play hide and seek with you because someone like you is impossible to find

“Finally! My worst customer is back!”

Minho exclaimed, a very cheerful smile spread across his face. You returned the smile as you walked towards him, internally smirking when you noticed the girl Minho had just served pout when he immediately diverted his attention to you. You’d been gone for only two days, taking the time after your exams to catch up on sleep and the latest season of Brooklyn 99 on Netflix. Of course, you couldn’t survive any longer without Minho’s coffee.

“It’s nice to see you too, Minho.”

Before you could order, he cut you off, bringing a finger up to stop you.

“No. Take a seat. I’ll make you a special drink,, on me.”

You narrowed your eyes on him. The last time you weren’t specific on the drink you wanted, Minho gladly gave you a nice, freshly squeezed lemon juice. He laughed. A sweet and kid-like laugh which gave a fluttery feeling to your stomach.

“No lemon. I promise.”

“Alright then. I trust you.”

You told him. He nodded and urged you to take your favourite seat. Having nothing to study, you chose to watch him at work, making sure that he was sticking to his promise and also because he looked really cute concentrating in making the latte art on your coffee perfect.

After a while, you went back to reading your book, failing to witness Minho’s nervous sweat and Jeongin’s constant motivation as the younger boy pushed him towards you.

A cup was slid in front of you and you excitedly took it, knowing there was something to read on the cup holder.

“Wait!” Minho exclaimed, preventing you from taking a glimpse of the note, “D-Don’t read it until after you’re finished.”

“Ooookayy...???” You questioned, raising your brow in confusion. Jeongin face palmed himself from behind the counter, clearly disappointed with Minho’s actions.

Minho nodded, pursing his lips nervously before he turned and ran back to his post.

You did as you were told, keeping your eyes off the scribbles on your cup as much as you could. You wanted to finish the drink as fast as you could, but you were prevented by the hot steaming liquid in the cup.

You waited for the liquid to cool down. Once it did, you resisted the urge to drink it all in one gulp, knowing that your very cute and favourite barista still had his eyes on you. You painfully drank it slowly. You felt your heart beat faster when you swallowed the long awaited last sip.

You turned the cup, finally seeing his handwriting vandalising the cup. You couldn’t help but chuckle when you read it.

I like you a latte, but I can’t seem to espress(o) it :-(

Pick a date?

Coffee , Tea , or Me?

You grabbed a pen from your bag, scribbling your response without hesitation.

When you exited the cafe, both Minho and Jeongin bulldozed their way to your empty table seconds before Felix had thrown your cup away.

“What did she say?” Minho asked with his palms covering his eyes, too afraid to discover your response.

“Well, you were right. She chose coffee.”

With a sigh, Minho fell back on the seat your previously sat in. “I knew it. All of it was just too good to be true.”

“Minho..”

“I mean, look at her! Clearly, she’s way out of my league.”

“MINHO!” Jeongin yelled, physically slapping Minho back to reality, “Will you just take a look yourself?”

Hesitantly, Minho took your cup from Jeongin’s grasp. He examined your reply.

Your blue ink clearly circled around coffee several times. And more of your writing just below Minho’s.

95% Coffee. 5% You.

I can’t give up coffee, but I would love to go on a date with my favourite barista <3

XX-XXXXXXXX