#i don’t think ive ever seen people get so weird about insisting that some guy’s fan works are 100% canon to something…?

[deadwardiann]

the toh reddit page being 90% mor*ngmark stuff is so dull 😭

[ad1thi]

If your still doing fic recs, could u rec any soft stevetony ones?

absolutely!! this got pretty long so ive hidden most of it under a read-more so i don’t annoy people. a couple of authors feature more than once. ive tried to avoid that as much as possible, but if an author features more than once - take that as a sign that they have rly good stuff for soft stevetony

disclaimer: don’t forget to leave kudos and comments for every author!! (a disclaimer i regrettably forgot to add to previous fic rec lists but will be adding from now on)

soda pops: @starklysteve

If anybody asks, Steve would smile and say it was very romantic. Very Tony. Because if he went into any further detail, nobody would quite believe him.

Tony, on the other hand, would laugh and say that Steve’s in love with a man in a can. So, really, it wasn’t outside the natural progression of things.

me voy pa’l pueblo: @firebrands

two times steve walks away, and one time that tony walks with him.

/ or, my very fluffy take on my bingo card prompt "farewells." steve is on vacation when he meets tony.

fill for my stony bingo prompt: farewells; also for bookworminaslump on tumblr who asked for a tourist/knowledgeable local au!

Tumblr Ficlets:  @omg-just-peachy (this is 115 chapters of stevetony being soft!!)

A collection of enough tooth-rotting fluff to last a year, all in one place.

tender offerings: @omg-just-peachy

Five times Steve carried Tony to bed.

the best thing (is that it’s happening to you and me):  @captainstarkreportingforduty

Or, five times the team saw Steve Rogers and Tony Stark in love.

Sweet On You: @miniblackraven

It’s the 1940’s and Tony is working as a Donut Doll for the Red Cross. His job is to go around to various military bases and offer comfort food and conversation to homesick soldiers. He’s come to expect a lot of things in this job, but he doesn’t expect to fall in love with Captain America, the hottest most awkward soldier Tony has ever met.

Bespectacled Avengers Society (Membership of One):  @baffledkingcomposinghallelujah

Tony gets glasses. Glasses get a Tony. Steve loses his mind and walks into walls.

a flower crown for your love: @anthonyed

"There, there," Pepper cooed. "Tony likes flowers?" she said with a shred of doubt in her tone. But when Steve peered up, she's smiling her bright toothy smile. He squinted and she sighed, dropping her hand from his shoulder. "He does." she insisted. "Even more so than me."

if this was a movie: @omg-just-peachy

“One of our seniors is being generous with his time this year—by force of his own actions, but generous none the less—and he’d be happy to help you, I’m sure. Tony Stark? I’ll set something up for later this week. I think between the two of you you’ll be able to pull your average up enough to make it through to playoffs,” Coulson said, with that ever-hopeful lilt in his voice.

Or, Steve needs a calculus tutor, Tony is available, but how is Steve ever supposed to focus when he's been in love with Tony for ... his entire school life?

you take me higher than the rest (everybody else is second best): @firebrands

tumblr fill for adi & anthonydarling, who asked for "'Prank' war, but the kind to see who can make the other blush the most in public" from this prompt list

amore mio:  @brucewaynery

Tony has had it with Steve being dumb and reckless out in the field, he has a family to think about now, Steve promises him that he'll be with him, kingdom come.

(initially based on that one headcanon about Italian Tony yelling and gesticulating at Steve but Peter thinks he's doing some weird dance and tries to copy him, but it got very fluffy very quickly)

Lost My Mind in a Coffee Shop: @betheflame

“Boyo,” Bucky muttered to his best friend. “I swear to God that if you don’t ask that man for his number soon, I will create a Grindr profile for you and you will not like it.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I am here to finish grading, not hit on men.”

“Can you not do both?” Natasha smirked. “Nearly tenured, historical genius, feels like something you should be able to multitask.”

&&&

In which Steve is a history professor and Tony's an engineering one and Bucky owns the joint where they have their meet cute.

AU-gust Chapter 7: @iam93percentstardust 

stevetony, childhood friends AU

Right Up The Road: @gottalovev

The day at the senate committee in Washington DC wasn't supposed to end with Tony and Steve transformed into animals by a baby witch. That said, the 350 miles trek back to the compound to get help promises to be quite an adventure too!

(or the adventures of Cat!Tony and Wolf!Steve - and how to readjust when you're back to human!)

i’ll take care of you: @elcorhamletlive

“Hi.”

Steve blinks. The sound of loud thunder roars outside, but he doesn’t jolt, too focused on the image in front of him to be startled by the noise.

He has no idea what to say, and he isn’t sure if the shock is because of Tony’s absolutely sodden state – his hair glued to his forehead, his clothes dripping with water, forming a small puddle in front of Steve’s door – or because he wasn’t expecting to see Tony for at least three more days.

“Hi?” he says, a little tentative, before his brain catches up to reality. In his defense, he was getting ready to sleep when Tony knocked. He looks at what Tony is holding – a wet mess that seems to have been a flower bouquet at some point. “What are you doing here?”

The Tally System:  @betheflame

Everyone on the team knew about the tally system.

Whenever Steve would save Tony - whether from a monster or from his own stupidity - he’d say, “tag”. Whenever Tony do the same, he’d say, “your turn”. Thor thought it was adorable, Clint thought it was ridiculous, Bruce refused to register an opinion.

Natasha thought it was something she could work with.

what’s mine is yours: @robertdowneyjjr

5 times Tony stole Steve’s clothes, and 1 time Steve returned the favor.

or

For a billionaire, Tony Stark really doesn't pay for a lot of what he wears.

I like Shiny Things But I’d Marry You With Paper Rings: @betheflame

Rhodey: I just confirmed with Sam that he’s going to make sure he cooks tonight and that his entire team is briefed. I’m heading over now to strategically arrange a fuck ton of ficus trees to block them from gen pop.

Pepper: They’re not getting engaged in a prison, Jimmy.

Rhodey: Tony Stark and Steve Rogers show up to Circe on a Saturday night in May and you watch every person in that restaurant turn into someone I’d rather arrest than eat with.

****

In which Tony and Steve get engaged, but they're kind of extra about it, because they are always themselves

the road to the stars: @shell-heads

Tony is seven years old when he sees the ballet for the first time and meets his future pas de deux partner.

His father is invited to sweet-talk politicians into a new weapons deal and explain his latest idea for their program, and his mom goes to catch up with old friends she hasn't seen in years, but Tony goes because his mom had smiled down at him and told him he would love it.

His mom's never wrong.

-

In which boy genius Tony Stark meets girl wonder Natasha Romanoff at the ballet, and they fit their broken little pieces together to make something beautiful on the dance floor.

Steve? He's just a dumb, awful, chaotic, extremely supportive older brother that really should just shut up and admit he likes Tony a lot more than he pretends, because Natasha only has five people in the world she likes; it only makes sense her two favorites would fall in love with one another.

They always were a little slow, though.

A Second Chance To Take it Slow: @omg-just-peachy

Tony loves his adopted son, Peter, but that doesn't stop him from wishing he had someone to do this whole parenting thing with. After a failed one night stand, Tony's parent-teacher conference with Mr. Rogers comes with quite the surprise.

Wake Up!: @randomstufffromotherblogs

Tony came home from a business trip and is woken up by his husband and their three-year old.

pull me closer to love:  @captainstakreportingforduty (part of a series)

“A Mother’s Day card? For... Tony?” Steve clarifies, and can’t help the smile on his face as six familiar little heads nod in response.

“But... guys, Tony’s not—“ he pauses and takes a breath, any explanation dying in his throat against the excited gleam in everyone’s eyes. “Why do you guys want to do that, hmm?"

compromises:  @robertpattisons (when i looked up OP on tumblr, this is the blog i was directed to - but i sincerely apologise if ive gotten it wrong)

Steve should have expected it, he really should have.

There were regulations that came with dating Tony Stark. Things that were clear and things that they needed to work through.

Things like how Steve always got strawberry ice cream, while Tony got rocky road. Or when Steve needed to get his homework done before he was down to make out - even though Tony always got his way.

Things like that were clear

all that you are is all that i’ll ever need: @natasharxmanov

Tony Stark and Steve Rogers announced their engagement on Good Morning America through Tony Stark’s previous secretary now CEO, Pepper Potts. And over this past weekend, I got the chance to sit down with them both, to visit their home and attend their gala, all to write this article about the most powerful couple in the world.

(Or, the fic in which Tony and Steve get married.)

(i won’t ever) trade my mistakes: @brucewaynery

Toddler Peter, painting a masterpiece with his dad.

aka: a dumb amount of family fluff to help you power through the week

[goblinmanifesto]

Ive already accidentally deleted this once so fucking kill me (I forgot to save it).

⚠️TW FOR ANXIETY, TOURETTES, SLIGHT SELF HARM⚠️

But this is my post for @doinmybesthere Mental Health Awareness May collab! I will be doing Bokuto Koutarou. To explain a bit, to cope with bullshit that is life, I accidentally made myself a coping mechanism that I loving refer to as the ‘Klaus Hargreeves‘ (if you know anything about that character, you already know where my mental state is) because I can’t remember what my therapist said the actual name for it was. To put it simply, it’s like overactive day dreaming. I act out and create scenarios in my head to comfort myself, most of the time using characters or real people as an enabler for the comfort I wish to gain. Side effects being; if caught, considered crazy, sometimes don’t realize I’m doing it which can lead to awkward situations, sometimes I fuck up what’s real and what’s not. So, in these little stories, I will be retelling scenarios I have created through this coping mechanism that relate to both Bokuto and my mental problems! Each will be labeled with what they deal with so you can skip the one that might trigger you. Enjoy and happy reading! (I WILL ALSO BE MENTIONING AND USING STIMMING) ((I will probably use this to make other fics like this in the future mentioning my other ~stuff~ but in the meantime this is all I want to do so enjoy!))

⚠️LAST TW⚠️

1. ~Anxiety, Self harm, Mentions of Stimming~ He should’ve been home an hour ago! I was pacing in the living room, shaking hands holding my phone. It was 7:13 and Koutarou was supposed to be home at 6:00. I was spiraling and I could feel it, but I didn't know what to do about it. Id sent him text after text, but he was yet to respond. I glanced at my cell, only stopping my frantic shuffling to focus my attention on reading the screen;

Hey, is practice running late? [6:11] When do you think you’ll be home? [6:15] Are you there? [6:19] Koutarou??????? [6:23] Kou pick up your damn phone! [6:27] Did something happen???!! [6:34] Is everything okay?! [6:39] Are you mad or something??? [6:47] Bokuto Koutarou I’m dead serious where are you?!?!?! [6:53] Bo-ku-to!!!! [6:59] Koutarou it’s been hour please text me [7:07] Koutarou!!! [7:12] -Unread-

My eyes scanned the messages again, not leaving the blue screen until until my shin collided with the side of the coffee table. I hadn’t even realized I had started pacing again. I checked the texts I had sent to Akaashi as well, since I knew he was at that practice too, but I hadn’t gotten any responses from him either. Slipping my phone screen up onto the table I continued my pacing, not even processing when my finger nails found their way under my teeth, and how when they left my mouth to scratch at my neck or claw at my shirt, my teeth resorted to gnawing at my lip instead, tearing up the thin skin. All habits I was trying to kill but didn’t have enough brain power to focus on not doing them. My eyes constantly searched the driveway for the headlights of any car, any car at all, but they always came up with nothing. It was 7:24 when my phone struck with the sound of text, the bing of anticipation sent me diving for, and consequently almost dropping, my phone in an attempt to find out if it was Koutarou. It was!

Hey, is practice running late? [6:11] When do you think you’ll be home? [6:15] Are you there? [6:19] Koutarou??????? [6:23] Kou pick up your damn phone! [6:27] Did something happen???!! [6:34] Is everything okay?! [6:39] Are you mad or something??? [6:47] Bokuto Koutarou I’m dead serious where are you?!?!?! [6:53] Bo-ku-to!!!! [6:59] Koutarou it’s been hour please text me [7:07] Koutarou!!! [7:12]

-Read-

Im so sorry!! Yes practice did end up running late! But something else happened and I

wasn’t able to text you! I’m not mad about

anything I promise!! What happened is also

minor and nothing to worry about and I’ll explain when I get home in about ten

[7:21] minutes!! I’m so sorry!! -Read-

I sighed, relieved, the weight on my chest and in my head dissolved and I felt like I could finally breathe again. Though, as I came down from my anxiety rush, I became aware of a lot of things all at once. The first was a good deal of pain. From knocking my leg into a table and pacing for over an hour, to bitten lips and nails, and my scraped neck. I groaned, I need to get a better handle on this.

But that wasnt important. Koutarou was okay and on his way home! I waited at the window, feeling a bit like a dog waiting on its owner (that was a kink joke yes), and leaped to the front door when I saw his car in the driveway. Throwing open the door, I pulled him inside the second I could get my hands on him and pulled him through the doorway. The moment he was inside, I shoved myself into his arms in a tight hug, so glad he was okay. He returned the hug and held me tightly, I let out a shuddering breathe and he let out comforting sounds I sometimes use to stim. “Hey, hey, hey, I’m so sorry to have you worry, it was about Akaashi! We were running extra practice with a handful of the other guys and I literally had half a text to you written out when he a spike to the face! I was the only one left with a car so I drove him to hospital! I’m so sorry you are so worried you sent like 15 texts! I’m so-“ I cut him short with a hand over his mouth since that was one of the only ways to get him to stop talking. “Kou, it’s okay, I understand, it just really scared me ‘is all-“ he pried my hand off his face but held it in his own.

”I know, but that doesn’t mean I can’t apologize for it, whether I was in complete control of the situation or not! Which I was not, by the way, no control what-so-fucking-ever, I had four other guys in the car and one of them was bleeding and concussed, it was chaos!!” His eyes were wide and he went off on the stress of the situation and, for a moment, I forgot that it was 7:26 at night on a Thursday and I had a biology test in the morning, and that Koutarou just got home and I hadn’t even eaten yet and all the other things that werent right in the world. Everything was fine in that moment. But that ended when Koutarou took a good hard look at me. The redness and scratch marks on my neck, the bitten to bleeding finger nails, the small bruise forming on my shin, my blotchy face and my probably-way-too-red lips. He stopped dead in his words and I felt my eyebrows scrunch up.

“Whats wrong?-“

“You did the things again didn’t you?!” He sounded distressed and his broad shoulders sunk. Koutarous hands rubbed my shoulders as he stared into my eyes with the most concerned look I’d ever seen. He pulled me back to his chest again and promised it wouldn’t happen again.

7:46, Koutarou insisted on taking care of my ‘injuries’ since he was who I was having anxiety over anyway. I protested a little, but gave up when he gave me the baby-owl eyes.

First, he had wrapped bandaids on my fingers. Thankfully, they were black, and I made a comment on it was like a 2-second manicure just to hear him chuckle.

Then, Kou applied a moisturizer to my neck. “Kou, I can do this myself-“

”Nope! I insist!”

”I’m not a child-“

”Don’t care, I’m doing it so just shush up and let me do what I need to do!”

Next, he made me apply ice to my bruise even though it was tiny and caused by a damn two-foot-tall coffee table.

Lastly, he gave me chapstick. Again, wouldn’t let me do it myself, so I made several sarcastic remarks to make him blush, all working quite well. Koutarou had to tell me to stop giggling multiple times so I could stay still.

”Alright, are you done playing nurse?”

”Forgive me for wanting to take care of you!!” He stuck his tongue out at me with an audible “bleh!” and I cackled.

”You are forgiven, Nurse Bokuto.”

2. ~Tourette’s, Stimming~ My neck painfully popped when it jerked to the left, my tics had been bad all day and I no clue why. Could be exams, or the fucking toaster for all I knew. I hissed, rubbing at my neck and adjusting the water can I almost dropped, trying to continue about my Saturday.

It was obnoxious, really, having to me-proof everything around in case I end up kicking it, dropping it, or hitting it. My joints constantly cracking and snapping and jolting in the strangest ways at any given moment. Sometimes repeating what people say back at them in perfect mirror-like fashion. Though that last one can be kind of funny.

Clicking my toungue to make nice noises to try and stim the tic away, I returned back to my plants. I could feel them chuckling at me and, in that moment, I understood everything about Crowley from ‘Good Omens’.

I heard the door unlock in the other room and I put my can down as a precaution and peeked out of the doorway.

A moment later, Koutarou popped through the door after his morning jog. He called out; “Hey, hey, hey!” as a greeting.

I felt my hands go up behind my head and I thought Oh gods dammit, and then my jaw jutted forward in a very unattractive way and I repeated his phrase in the same manner as him, then immediately dropped, as my body decreed.

I groaned, looking up at him, who looked slightly bewildered at my little madness ritual. His hair laid flat on his head, he had chosen not to mess with it this morning, much to my delight, his amber eyes a little wide and his eyebrows raised. He was barely even in the house yet.

We just kind of stared at each other for a hot second before I awkwardly waved ‘hello’ and cracked a weird grin. He grinned back, his more pleasant than mine. Walking over, he opened his arms for a hug, and I accepted, since he wasn’t all that sweaty this time around, and it was the least I could do since he had to witness that.

Koutarou planted a kiss on the top of my head, cheering “Good morning!”

I muttered a response into his shirt.

“One of those days, huh?” I nodded.

“Coffee? I think we have muffins in the cabinet?” I nodded again and he lead me into the kitchen to set up some breakfast. It was 9:00 am on a Saturday after all. A weird Saturday, but watching Koutarou finagle through the cabinets, it couldn’t be that bad.

That is all for now! Have a wonderful day and I am going to sleep for three years see y’all (edited: June 18 2021, because I can’t spell)

[foulserpent]

5 with Ned?

“What is the most frightening thing that you've ever seen?” Xikeel asked.

Ned frowned from across the fire, jaw working at the chunk of venison he'd insisted on cooking well past mid-rare. He swallowed.

"You mean like... In the fucked up and horrible way, or the spooky ghost way?"

"Spooky ghost." Xikeel said.

"Okay, yeah, that's probably best... um..." Ned leaned back, looking at the dusk sky. He set his bowl down, as Xikeel scooped up the last of the rice and meat from the pot.

Ned was not a good storyteller by anyone's standard. In fact, he was rather rambling and awkward, with a terrible sense of pacing. But he'd had so much to tell, so many fascinating events from years upon years of travel. Xikeel had developed a habit of pressing him for stories, and found herself enraptured enough that even she could listen to his stumbling with eager attentiveness.

Ned sat up and cleared his throat, and Xikeel listened, rapt. "Okay, I’ve got it.”

“So, we're in the ashlands. You- you've never been to Vvardenfell, right?" He asked.

Xikeel shook her head. "No, Falkreath is the farthest I've been from home."

"Okay, yeah. So the ashlands. It's what it sounds like. It's kind of like a desert but, not exactly. Not a lot of people out there, especially away from the roads. And we were really near to the volcano, so there's like- a solid layer of ash over everything. You have to wear a mask so it doesn't rip your lungs up. You wake up covered in that shit."

Xikeel chewed on her dinner attentively.

"So anyway we're... yeah we're there. We've been camped out there for a while, on a contract. And we've bedded down for the night. No fire, no tent, just sleeping under some brush in our cloaks. And suddenly we hear screaming. Some guy's screaming, 'help! help me!' out in the bush somewhere nearby.”

“And Ondryn was like, freaked out, told me not to go after him. And I wanted to help, but there was something... Weird? About it? Like he sounded real close but I wasn't hearing anything else that, you know, accompanies a call for help. Like, no running, no sounds of struggling or being mauled by a wild animal or whatever. It was DEAD silent.”

"So we just kind of lay there. And if this person had moved, we totally would have heard it, but there was just nothing at all. And at that point, neither of us were going to sleep until we'd searched the area, but hell if I was going to do that. So we're laying there.”

"And then, there's another sound. Kind of a...uh... Gurgling noise? Like-" Ned broke off to make an odd sound in his throat, a prolonged croak that lifted into a 'whoop!'

He scowled. "Yeah okay, it was actually nothing like that. But you get the idea."

"And that just lasts a second, because it turns into this- music? It sounded, uh, sort of like a bunch of different flutes being played at once. But lower. Very deep. I don't remember the tune so don't ask. But it was music, and me and Ondryn are just looking at each other like "what the fuck?". And at that point, curiosity is kicking in, so I get up and start walking towards the sound. Low to the ground, super slow. And I can tell it's coming from this ditch, a stream from a foyada. So I just verrrrry carefully climb up the side and look in."

Ned paused to grasp for words.

"And there's a man in there, just kind of dancing around in circles. And he's completely naked like, his whole dick is out and he has no shoes on, he's just dancing in this friggin' ditch. And I'm thinking he's got some sort of weird instrument over his head, but he dances towards me and um. He has no head. Or like- he kind of has a head, but it's tilted completely and is touching his back, and there's all these... tubes? Coming out of the eyes and mouth. Or they're kind of like tentacles, I don't know.”

“And they've got holes in them, and that's where the music is coming from. He's playing them." Ned lifted his arms over his head and mimed with his fingers. “Like a flute”

"So like, it's the most fucked up thing I've ever seen basically, but I can't stop watching. And Ondryn eventually comes up beside me, and we don't say anything, we just watch this guy. It’s gotta be like... A solid hour we’re just sitting there. And he starts moving up the foyada, still dancing the whole time, and eventually he's out of sight. But we hear the music a good while longer until it gets too distant. And we just kind of sit there."

"So, uh. That's the scariest thing ive ever seen, I think." Ned finished abruptly.

The fire’s crackling seemed to resume as he fell silent.

“Wow.” Xikeel said. “Do you know what that was?”

“No goddamn idea.” He said, staring into space.

They stayed in silence for a long while, Ned’s eyes distant and Xikeel’s mind running loops. Ned began to pack his pipe. By the smell of it, it wasn’t just the simple grub blend. The man leaned fully back, and began to awkwardly snap his fingers until his limited magical ability conceded and gave him a small flame. His dinner sat abandoned at his feet.

“Are you gonna eat that?” Xikeel gestured at his bowl.

“I don’t think so.” He said, exhaling out an earthy smoke and lying down on his bed mat. “Go for it.” 

Without other words, Xikeel took his leftovers and settled down against her pack. Ned held up the pipe and raised an eyebrow in offering, and she shook her head. With that, the two had gone their separate ways for the night. As the dusk gave way into the night, Xikeel ate her friend’s leftovers and was held in thought, dreaming of strange music.

[whatcouldgowrong-ohthat]

Us and Andie Ch. 5

Summary: Bucky works as an Avenger because it’s what’s right. He feels he has sins he’ll never be able to make up for, but he’ll spend the rest of his life trying. However, his life takes an unexpected turn when he comes across Andie, the daughter of recently divorced Y/N. The life he had once “maintained” in hopes of surviving changes as his heart warms for a tough-as-nails nurse and her wonderful daughter.

Word Count: 3227 words

Warnings: Reader and Bucky interaction! There is angst and mentions of abuse. 

A/N: There is a lot more angst in this chapter just because Y/N’s telling Bucky hers and Andie’s history. And guys - this divorce story is based off of real events from someone I’m very close to. I wish it wasn’t real, but it is. I actually downplayed it for this particular story. But single parents? Victims of abuse? They deserve all of our love and support because they work their asses off just trying their best.

Series Masterlist - Masterlist

Seeing an Avenger run errands was something that one wouldn’t label as “normal”. Ever. A giant of a man attempting to squeeze past other shoppers in skinny aisles? Natasha quietly appearing wherever she needed to do something as simple as grab a carton of milk? And God forbid a billionaire playboy like Tony go shopping on his own for something as trivial as frozen pizza. In fact, Sam might have been the only Avenger that Y/N could picture and it might be the slightest bit, maybe just maybe, normal.

But this particular Avenger? Bucky? It seemed…improbable? Impossible? Inconceivable. That was the word.

Maybe Y/N needed to stop watching The Princess Bride with Andie.

She watched as Bucky looked over her list, grabbing things from shelves and tossing them in the basket. Several women had noticed him. It was hard not to. The guy was massive. And Y/N had to admit, it was nice having him around. It was weird – she barely knew anything about him, but he was determined to help her.

“Tell me something.”

Bucky looked up, raising an eyebrow as she grabbed two bags of M&Ms. One peanut butter, the other dark chocolate. He wondered if they were both Andie’s favorites or if one was maybe hers. “Like what?” He looked back at her, handing her the list before pushing the cart.

She started scratching things off, shrugging. “Something not related to Hydra? Or the Avengers?” As interesting as it now was to say she met with and hung out with the Avengers, she still preferred normal. There was no denying that. And the idea of knowing something like that about Bucky? The idea made her smile.

“I like sweet things.”

That wasn’t what she was expecting. Y/N stepped in front of the cart, hopping on it and allowing him to push her. “I need an explanation behind that. I thought everyone likes sweets. At least to some degree, right?”

Bucky pulled the cart to a stop, surprised when she hopped up. However, despite his surprise, he had to admit that it was cute. He’d seen her wild and worried, but Bucky had yet to see her relax. To act less like a mom and more like…herself? There was a better way to word that, he was sure of it. He crossed his arms and leaned against it, trying to find the right words before realizing he still owed her an explanation. “Hydra didn’t exactly go out of their way to give me good food. Mostly it was IV nutrients or stuff that could hardly even qualify as food.”

Her heart sank at that. She couldn’t wrap her mind around the hero gig. “Oh…”

“Yeah, so when I got out I just…I promised myself I wouldn’t live like that anymore. I want to enjoy things and it turns out sweets became one of those…things.”

Y/N smiled at that. “I’ll make those pancakes for you. That Andie likes so much.”

Bucky looked up at her, eyes wide and jaw dropped. She didn’t – “You don’t – “

“What, you’re the only person that’s able to do nice things?” She hopped off the cart, crossing her arms. “Not happening. Besides, baking is one of those things I do.”

“Even in that tiny ass kitchen?” Y/N gaped at him and he cringed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

But it turned out, Bucky’s apology wasn’t even necessary. Y/N was laughing and swatted his arm, earning a small jump from him. “Yes, actually, I do bake even in that ‘tiny ass kitchen’.”

Bucky felt something in his stomach when he heard her laugh like that. Not only was it sweet, but he was the cause of it. He was the cause of bringing that smile to her face. “How do you have the time?”

“I don’t,” she told him, still laughing without a shred of embarrassment. “But I make it. Whether it means losing some shut eye or not – the nurses are willing to pay me to make stuff for their kids’ bake sales.”

Bucky pushed the cart, absolutely dumbfounded by this woman. She had no superpowers, no abilities, and no reason to be such a good person. And yet here she was. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as good as you.”

Y/N laughed again, shaking her head. “I’m just trying to do my best, Buck. Whatever that is.”

Silence fell as they rounded the corner and went towards the cold section. Y/N was immediately rubbing her hands together, oblivious to the fact that Bucky was watching her. He wanted to tell her more, talk to her more.

“I also like goats.”

Y/N whipped her head around, already smiling at that new detail. “Goats? Is there a story behind this?”

“Um…after the Accords I went to Wakanda and that’s where I met Shuri. She’s the princess there…Really good kid. You’d like her. And…”

Bucky continued with his story. His movements became more animated and relaxed as she listened to him. It was a side of Bucky she never could have predicted. But it seemed the more time she spent with him, the more she realized there was a lot about Bucky she couldn’t predict. And a lot more that she wanted to find out.

-.-.-

After grocery shopping and finally dropping everything off at the apartment, Bucky insisted on taking Y/N out for food. It was a weird moment for him. Normally he stayed in, avoiding eyes and people that were far too curious. But this time that wasn’t the case. He actually wanted to be out. He wasn’t sure if it was because he wanted to be seen with Y/N or if he wanted to spoil her. Maybe it was a mix of the two.

“Here’s your order,” the waitress said, placing two burgers, fries, and two shakes on the table.

Y/N thanked her, looking around at the quaint little diner. How did Bucky find this place? “I feel like we’re going to be caught in this endless cycle of being too nice to each other,” she joked, taking a fry. She dipped it in her shake and took a bite, smiling when she saw that look of complete confusion on his face. Had he even heard what she just said? “Try it before you judge.”

Bucky snorted, but did as she said. What he didn’t expect was to actually enjoy it. And judging by the highly entertained look on her face, he wasn’t exactly hiding it.

“Exactly. So quit your judging.”

They were so at ease with each other. It felt like they’d known one another for years. “So…you asked me questions earlier. Can I ask you now?”

Y/N hesitated for a moment before forcing herself to relax. It was Bucky. What was the worst thing he could ask? “Sure, I don’t see why not.”

“…Why did you and Andie’s dad get a divorce?”

Y/N’s whole body froze when she heard that question. This was why she didn’t make new friends. New friends asked personal questions. New friends asked about that damn ex-husband of hers. But Bucky meant well…She was sure he did. She had to remember that he was from a time when divorce just wasn’t done.

And she was from a time when it was always done.

“Well…” Wow, things felt heavy. Her chest felt tight.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky murmured. He leaned forward when he noticed how quickly her body language changed. “I didn’t want to upset you. Or bring up bad memories. I just…” His tongue ran across his lip as he struggled to find the words. Why was he always stumbling? Why was he always at a loss for words? “I was raised in a time where marriage was it. You were stuck with it. And even though Hydra brainwashed me, it became one of those things that was kind of ingrained in my beliefs. Even when I didn’t know what those were.” He sighed, running his hands through his hair. “I was curious what would bring someone to end a relationship when they’re supposed to be in love.”

“Abuse.”

Bucky looked up, fixating on her features. There was only one tear, already fallen and gone. Strands of her hair fell in front of her face. She looked raw. His whole body was rigid as he repeated that one word in his head. Abuse. Who the fuck would abuse her? Who would be such a coward? She wasn’t a superhero. She wasn’t like him. Or a soldier or anything like that. She didn’t have a job that deserved cruelty. So why…? Bucky clenched his jaw at the sharp pain from his hair, realizing he’d been pulling because of his anger.

“Do you want the whole story?”

“You – Y/N, you’re under no obligation to share that with me.”

“I know,” she told him with the smallest nod. “I’m very well aware of that. And if it were anyone else, I probably wouldn’t. But I’m sitting across from a man who lived with seventy years of abuse. If anyone would get it, I’m pretty sure it’s you.”

He slumped in his chair, surprised that she would trust him with something like this. There was something about this that made him feel…pride? Confidence? Of all the people to trust, she was choosing him. And he never would have expected it. He never would have had the guts to believe it. Though first, he had to ask, “Did he hurt Andie?”

“Hell no.” The words were held with nothing less than total conviction. “I divorced him before he got the chance.”

“Why do I feel like there’s more to the story than that?”

“’Cause there is? My ex…” She picked at her food, suddenly losing her appetite. “God, he knew how to work the system. Played it like a game. He was verbally and emotionally abusive…Never touched me hard enough to leave a bruise. Just enough to make a point or get me scared.”

Silence passed for a few minutes. Bucky watched her, willing to listen to anything she had to tell him.  But just like any of the Avengers, that wall that she had torn down came right back up just as quick.

She shrugged, taking a sip of her water. Her stomach lurched. She felt sick. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does.” Bucky bit his lip, reaching across the table. His hand found her arm, squeezing gently. Learning about this, he had so much more to ask. Why would Andie try to see her dad? Why did Y/N wait till Andie was three?

“You’re not the first person to give me that look, you know,” Y/N murmured. A hollow laugh slipped free. She pulled her arm away from his grip, ignoring how comforting it felt. She hugged herself. “Part of my marriage included isolating me from my family. I was nineteen when we got married, so I didn’t know any better. God, I was so naïve. I was practically brainwashed into believing that was how marriage was supposed to be. I didn’t know any better and – “ She faltered, realizing what she had said. “I’m sorry, that was really tacky. I could’ve chosen a better word.”

Bucky frowned. What was she talking about? Oh. He chuckled, shaking his head. “If brainwashing is a good word to describe what you went through, then use it. You’re not hurting my feelings.”

She smiled ever so slightly. It hurt to see her like this. Looking so broken. Taking a shaky breath, she looked around at the near empty diner. The few people that were there weren’t paying attention to them. It was comforting. She felt like she could confide in him even with where they were. “I didn’t really care what he was doing to me, you know? I was numb after five years. I didn’t talk to anyone outside of his friends. It was just my life. But then I got pregnant with Andie. And he changed. He started treating me better…like I was a person instead of property.”

Bucky’s hands clenched on his thighs. Everything in his body wanted to move next to Y/N, to hug her and let her know that nothing that happened was right. But the way she talked about it? He knew she was aware. He knew she wasn’t that same girl anymore. God, how different would things have been if they had met all those years ago? “What changed?”

“I think actually having Andie burst some bubble of his. The reality of a daughter? Especially a mutant showing their abilities so young? He wasn’t prepared for it and,” she shrugged again, defeated. “He blamed me for her having a gift. I didn’t even care that she did, but when I reminded him that it was the male’s genetics that determined someone being a boy or girl? Someone being a mutant? That was when things went back to what I was used to. He didn’t drink or anything, but he was…so angry. And I wasn’t going to put her through that. She had just turned three and I filed. So then he threatened to take her from me.”

Bucky’s heart sank. How much of this was a reality for other women? How many women had to be as strong as Y/N? How many chose to stay? How many weren’t even able to make a choice? “How,” His voice caught in his throat. “How did you get him to…”

“To leave us alone?” He nodded, at a complete loss for words. “He doesn’t have to pay child support. And I have complete control of visitation rights. It mattered once, but not so much now. Andie…she wants a relationship, but it’ll never happen.”

Bucky ran a hand over his face, trying to wrap his head around everything. She gave up child support and was taking care of a kid while living in New York. On her own. Wow. He scratched his jaw, unable to wrap his mind around how someone could go through all of that. It was a different type of torture. Bewildered, he asked, “Why would she even want to see him?”

“Because he remarried,” she sighed. “And he has two boys. Don’t get me wrong, I am completely honest with my daughter about everything involving her father. I have raised her to be able to defend herself no matter what. She is very aware of everything.” Y/N hesitated, only able to imagine what could have gone on in Andie’s head the day her dad refused to meet her. “But she has a father who has no interest in meeting her because of things out of her control. He raises two boys and, from what I know, he loves them and his wife. He treats his new family great. At thirty-five, I still can’t help the sting I feel from that. I can only imagine what she feels.”

“She’s an awesome kid.”

Y/N laughed, tears welling in her eyes. “Yeah, I know. And she’s been wanting to meet him since she was eight. She’s been wanting to meet her brothers for just as long, but…”

“He won’t let her.”

It was a statement, not a question. He didn’t need to ask because the answer was so irritatingly obvious. What an ass. Andie was sneaking out to see what she was missing. She was trying to create a relationship with someone who didn’t want her. The thought of that, the realization, made him sick to his stomach.

Y/N let out a sharp exhale, realizing how heavy things had gotten. She had shared her story, sure, but normally in bits and pieces. It wasn’t normally such word vomit. “I can’t believe I told you all of that. It is nothing like what you went through.”

“Don’t start with all of that,” Bucky argued, shocking her into silence. “Trauma is trauma. Nothing makes what you and Andie went through any less valid. And you can’t argue. ‘Cause I’m the Winter Soldier and who better to ‘get it’ than me?”

She laughed at that, a hint of a smile reappearing when he threw her words back around. Oh, how surprising this man was. Taking a sip of her drink, she asked, “You are unnaturally kind, you realize that, right?”

“Or maybe I’m just less of a dick than the guys you spend time with.”

Y/N snorted, choking on her water and falling into a coughing fit as Bucky winced. Maybe that was too far? “That was great,” she told him, wiping away the tears that had fallen before.

In only seconds, she looked completely different. No longer broken. Any tension that had been there was gone. She was already moving on from it. Maybe that was because she already had eight years behind her.

Leaning back in her seat, she checked her phone. “I need to go get Andie from school.”

Bucky nodded, pulling out his wallet and dropping a couple twenties. “Do you want company?”

She smiled as they stood and made their way outside. As weird as it was to share something like picking Andie up, Y/N found herself wanting to. Andie liked Bucky. And Y/N felt like she could trust him. Especially after confiding everything to him. Honestly, she told him, “I would really like that.”

“Then lead the way.”

And she did. Her hand reached down and grabbed his, immediately catching Bucky’s attention and sending him on alert. He expected her to let go at some point, only making sure he stuck by through the crowds. And while he did his best to follow the route, memorizing it in case he would one day get Andie on his own, he was absolutely giddy.

She never let go of his hand.

-.-.-

That night, Tony was working late in the lab as always. While tinkering away at his suit, he had a hologram of a few documents pulled up. He was passively studying, something absolutely normal for him. It helped him focus. At least, that was the excuse he was giving himself. He preferred this sort of thing after all. But what he hadn’t been expecting was F.R.I.D.A.Y. alerting him of someone else’s arrival.

He looked up, swiping away the reports he’d been memorizing. Fixating back on the suit, he asked, “What are you doing here?”

Bucky didn’t say anything. He shoved a hand in his pocket, the other nervously running through his hair. He didn’t like the idea of coming to Tony for a favor. He really didn’t. It isn’t for you. It’s for Andie and Y/N. “You like Andie and her mom, right?”

Tony glanced up, lifting the goggles and propping them on his head. “Yeah. Y/N seems like a good mom and Andie’s been a riot ever since I met her.” He pushed the chair he sat in, rolling across the floor and landing at his desk. He set the tools down and rose to his feet, wiping his hands clean on his pants. He could always buy another pair. “Why, what’s up?”

“I have a favor to ask…”

Tony leaned against his desk. “For them? Name it.”

And Bucky did. He described everything he felt Tony needed to know. He knew the Stark had a big heart, witnessed how he had taken Peter under his wing. He wanted to do something similar for these two. And judging by the look on Tony’s face, he was more than willing.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Tag List:

@mr-robot-x​ @lets--be-honest @buckyssoul @purplekitten30 @amnahs9695 @booktease21 @niahmariec

[nothesc]

Week 7 Part IV. A Damira fic.

Here’s the last part that takes place on Saturday.

Part I here Part II here  Part III here

You can also read it on ao3

-----

SATURDAY 22:05

“Yes, I’m telling you, we were giving the gifts to the kids and one of them said ‘yeah the gifts are great but where’s the money?’” Amira tells Nora, Viri and Eva remembering what happened earlier today at the association.

“I mean, can we blame him? They’re not stupid” Eva says laughing

“They’re like little hurricanes but we love them” Dounia comments.

“I think it’s so cool what you guys do at the association” Viri says with admiration

Amira looks at Dounia, Elena and Noor and smiles, she’s very proud of the work they do at Labass.

“Amira” Nora says suddenly, pointing at something behind Amira.

She turns around and is shocked to see Kasim and Lucas entering the rooftop. Kasim never answered to her text and Amira was sure that they wouldn’t show up. She looks at Dounia to see if she knows something but she shakes her head and shrugs.

“Well, we’ll leave you alone” Nora says taking the rest of the girls with her and leaving Amira alone with Lucas and Kasim.

“Hi, I thought you wouldn’t come” Amira admits shyly

“So did I, not gonna lie” Lucas comments “But Kasim insisted and I couldn’t say no”

Amira nods and dares to look at Kasim. A wave of shame and guilt hits her.

“Kasim, I’m sorry, I’m really sorry for real. I…don’t know what to say”

“Well, that’s what the text was for, right? To apologize and explain yourself. And Amira, I’m not going to lie to you, I hated you so much when I found out you were the one that sent Dounia home but…the truth is I was shitty to you. I shouldn’t have used you or lied, I screwed up your friendship with Dounia and you didn’t deserve that, I’m sorry.

Amira nods and smiles awkwardly, knowing that Kasim forgives her calms her down but that doesn’t mean she’ll ever be proud of what she did.

“Thank you for coming” Amira looks from Kasim to Lucas and adds “both of you”

Lucas smiles and nods. Things will take a while to go back to the way it was between them but it’s a start.

Cris is late, very late, but this time is not because she wasn’t ready on time. The truth is she’s been ready for half an hour now but Joana and her are still in her room waiting for something that doesn’t seem is going to happen. Cris sighs and stands up to go, she had hope that her brother would come to Amira’s too, but he’s still in the living room with his laptop and it doesn’t look like that’s going to change.

“Come on, let’s go, we’re late” she tells Joana

The girls leave Cris’ room and go to the front door walking by the living room. Cris decides to give it one last try and stops by the sofa where Dani is.

“Hey Dani, we’re leaving for Amira’s now”

“Okay.” Dani answers, not looking up from his laptop.

Cris doesn’t move, she stands there looking at her brother waiting for a reaction. Dani can feel Cris’ stare and sighing he looks up.

“What do you want?”

“You’re really not coming?”

“Amira doesn’t want me there”

“Has she told you that?” Cris asks being fully aware of the answer for that question.

“She didn’t have to” Dani says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Cris shakes her head and turns around to leave but, being Cris, she can’t hold back the words from spilling and turns back to her brother to tell him one last thing.

“What are you waiting for? I know you haven’t given up, Dani, I’ve seen the documents in your room” Cris sees how Dani opens his mouth to say something but quickly stops him “Don’t ever bother getting mad because I was in your room, that’s not the point. The point here is that I know you want to be with Amira, I know you haven’t given up yet and I don’t understand what’s stopping you from talking to her. Wake up Dani, before it’s too late”

Not waiting for an answer Cris, with Joana behind her, turns and leaves, this time without looking back.

“Oh my god Amira I’m going to come for dinner to your house every day. Seriously, can your parents adopt me or something?” Dilan says after trying every single dish Amira’s mom has cooked. Him, Hugo and Jorge have been eating nonstop since they arrived. Alejandro is a little bit more shy but that hasn’t stopped him either from trying almost everything.

“Hey, hey, hey, chill dude, if they adopt someone it’s going to be me, I got here first” Cris says approaching the group.

Amira turns around and sees Cris and Joana arriving together. They both greet the girls, the boys and the Labass. Finally they approach Amira. Joana and Amira greet with a fist bump like they always do. Cris on the other hand doesn’t waste a second before she jumps Amira to give her a hug.

“Giiiiiiiiirl, you’re so pretty, oh my god that gold scarf, you look like a goddess.” Cris says kissing Amira’s face everywhere.

Amira laughs and pushes her off herself gently.

“Yeah, yeah, but you’re late” Amira teases her, she’s used to Cris being late by now.

“I’m sorry, but it wasn’t my fault, we were ready but we were waiting for…” Cris stops trying to look for a good explanation that isn’t the truth. She looks at Joana for help.

“We were waiting for…” Joana tries with no success.

“Anyway, we were waiting, that’s it.”

“You have to try this, it’s amazing” Viri says approaching Joana, Cris and Amira and giving the first two girls a plate. Eva, Nora, Dounia, Elena and Noor come with her.

“Hmmm my goodness, this is incredible” Joana says after trying it.

“Amira’s mom is the best cook ever” Cris confirms. Suddenly she notices two people in the other side of the roof and frowns “Lucas and Kasim are here?”

“Yes, we talked and…well it looks like everything is good” Amira explains.

“Ahhh isn’t it nice? Celebrating Eid with all the people you love by your side?” Viri says with one of her brand smiles.

Amira looks around and smiles, it’s true that she feels lucky to see her friends and family together. But, she’d be lying if she said that her happiness is full.

“Well…all the people…not all the people are here, right?” Cris says, she doesn’t mean to put salt on the wound but she’s been quiet for the whole week and it’s about time she does something.

“Cris…” Nora warns her.

“I’m sorry Ami but…it hurts me seeing you both like this” Cris tells Amira whose smile has faded already.

“But Cris, you said it yourself, we were going to overwhelm each other, we were going to fuck up. Well, we did, you were right.” Amira doesn’t understand why Cris is talking about Dani right now, she’s already having a hard time with him not being here when she’s been telling him about Eid for weeks.

“But I wasn’t right, fuck it. I wasn’t right. I was…going through a hard time and I took it all out on you. I was afraid you would hurt each other because fuck, Ami, I love you both very much. I was trying to protect you so you wouldn’t suffer. But you’re still suffering anyway.” Cris makes a pause trying to put her thoughts in order “When you were together you were happy, my brother was always in a good mood, and it was because of you, Ami. And you were the same. And now? Now you’re both so sad all the time. Can you really tell me with full honesty that you’re better now than before?”

The rest of the girls stay quiet, waiting for Amria to say something.

“But it’s a very complicated relationship, Cris”

“Of course it’s fucking complicated, all relationships are. If I had run away at the sight of the first problem with Joana we wouldn’t be together now, and I wouldn’t be as happy as I am now.” Cris looks at her girlfriend and takes her hand smiling, then she looks again at Amira “and we will have more problems, because life is a bitch, but we will face it together, because that’s what you do when you love someone”

Amira doesn’t know what to say, a part of her wants to run to Dani and tell him she wants to be with him but the other part is afraid, afraid of suffering even more than now.

“Look, Amira, I don’t want to pressure you to do something you don’t want to but…I think you do want to be with my brother, and I know he wants to be with you. I don’t know…I think you should try to work on their issue together”

Amira looks at Cris, and Joana, and Nora, and Viri, and Eva, and Noor and Elena. All of them smile at her. Finally she looks at Dounia and, like the rest of the girls, she nods and smiles.

“I…I have to go” Amira says and without thinking about it twice she turns around and leaves.

When she passes by her mother she tries to stop her.

“Amira, where are you going?”

“To fight for what it’s worth it” Amira answers while she runs.

She can’t see it because she’s already left but her mother can’t erase the proud smile from her face.

Dani looks in the mirror one last time, he looks weird but it’s a good weird, he actually likes the way he looks in what he’s wearing. Not wanting to waste anymore time he takes the keys and goes to the door and opens it. He freezes when he sees Amira in the other side of the door, ready to knock on it. Dani can’t stop staring at her, he’s not sure if it’s because he’s surprised to see her after a week of because she looks gorgeous with her gold hijab. Dani sees how Amira looks him up and down smiling and biting her lip. Dani can feel himself blushing, maybe it wasn’t a good idea to dress up like this after all.

“What…what are you doing here?” Dani finally asks.

“Well…I came to invite you to my Eid celebration but…I see you’re already ready for it.” Amira says, referring to the black Panjabi that Dani is wearing. She notices some details on his chest and gently touches them with her fingers. Then she realizes what she’s doing and takes a step back “I’m sorry, I’m sorry it’s just…it’s…golden”

“Yeah I…I bought a couple of weeks ago, when you told me you were wearing a gold hijab for Eid…I don’t know I thought I could surprise you wearing something that matches it. I know it’s silly but…”

“No” Amira interrupts him “It’s not silly. I love it and…you look great”

“And you look beautiful” Dani can’t help saying.

Now Amira is the one that can feel the heat on her cheeks and tries to avoid Dani’s eyes.

“Do you want to come in and…talk?” Dani asks hesitantly.

Amira nods and Dani takes a step to the side so she can enter and go to the living room. He follows her after closing the door.

“Ami I…” Dani starts saying but then he realizes he’s missing something. “Wait a minute”

Not waiting for an answer from Amira, Dani goes to his room and takes the documents he has on his desk. When he returns to the living room he gives them to Amira who takes them and looks at them confused.

“Articles about Islam, passages from the Quran…Dani what’s this?”

“I’ve done some research…to learn and understand everything better…to understand you better. It’s the first thing I should’ve done when we started dating, I’m sorry”

“I didn’t explain anything to you either” Amira admits.

“Teaching me is not your responsibility”

“But it would’ve been easier for you”

“Ami I…” Dani tries to find the right words to express what he’s feeling. “I want to be with you, with everything that comes with it. I know is hard and I know that I have a lot to learn but, I want to try, for real. I know that you think I’m missing out on this to be with you, or that you’re going to overwhelm me or I don’t know, but that’s not true Ami, it really isn’t. I don’t want to be with any other girl, I want to be with you because no one can give me what you give me. And I don’t care if I can’t kiss you because everything else is worth it. Being with you is not an effort, it’s a gift. And I don’t know Ami, I love you” Amira widens her eyes at Dani’s last two words, it’s the first time he’s said it. Dani notices Amira’s reaction but he doesn’t take it back, he decides to say it again “I love you, Ami”

“But, do you know what you’re getting yourself into?”

“Yes, I do now” Dani says pointing at the documents Amira still has in her hands “and I will continue learning. But I need you to trust me, stop thinking that I’ll get bored and leave. I still have a lot to learn and understand but I promise I will. I need you to trust me”

Amira doesn’t say anything at first, she’s trying to process everything. She’s still afraid, that’s for sure, but the part of her that wants to take a leap of faith and be with him is bigger than fear. She’s tired of denying herself happiness to stay in a safer place. She knows it’s going to be hard and that they’ll have to face a lot of things but, like Cris said, together it’ll be easier.

“I trust you” Amira says honestly. Then, even though her legs are shaking not only by admitting it to Dani but also to herself, she adds “And I love you too”

Cris sees them coming and leaves the conversation she was having with Hugo to approach Amira and Dani.

“So?” She asks them once she’s standing in front of them.

Dani and Amira look at each other and smile, then they look at Cris.

“Cris, I’m dating your brother” Amira says

“And I’m dating your best friend” Dani says.

Cris looks at them for a moment and her lips slowly curve up into a smile that gets bigger and bigger.

“Yasssssss!” Cris almost yells, jumping up and down and hugging them both. Once she lets them go she looks at Amira “We’re sisters in law girl, can you believe it?” not giving her time to answer she looks at her brother “And you, don’t you even think she’s going to love you more than she loves me because Amiris is the realest thing ever”

Dani and Amira laugh and shake their heads. They really like Cris’ reaction better this time.

“Anyway, I’m going to look for something to drink, do you guys want anything?” Dani says still laughing

“Yes, I’ll go with you” Amira replies.

After pouring themselves some juice Dani and Amira stand by the table talking, though they’re soon joined by Amira’s parents.

“Dani, how are you? You haven’t been to the house in a while, we haven’t seen you since you declared your love for Amira last time you were home”

Dani, who was taking a sip from his drink, almost chokes at the words.

“Baba!” Amira yells in shock, looking from her dad to her mom who can only smile.

“What? Was it a secret?” Amira’s dad asks confused.

Amira and Dani look at each other and they burst out laughing. Soon they’re joined by Amira’s mother while her father looks at them confused.

Later, Amira takes a walk around the rooftop and looks at the people there. ‘Now’ she thinks ‘all the people that I love are here now’. And she feels like the luckiest girl in the world.

[mikaa-mina]

At Garden’s Edge- ch8: A Day in the Life of a Newt(on Pulsifer)

The lights are too bright, and Newt can’t quite hear what the lady in front of him is saying over the cacophony of beeps. His head also feels quite.... strange. He’s pretty sure that it’s not supposed to feel like it’s floating half a foot above his neck while also feeling like it’s stuffed full of cotton.

Some of the beeping suddenly stops, making it so much quieter in the ER, and Newt can finally understand what the nurse is asking. He tells her he thinks he’s fine, only he managed to hit something in the middle of the road with his bike and that sent him sailing towards the curb, which his bike tire hit at the wrong angle, and that quite firmly ejected him from his seat. And actually, he’s not at all quite sure how he got here, or why he’s here.

The nurse comes closer before he realizes she’s holding a tablet to enter his information in. By the time he realizes, it’s too late.

There’s a sound much like a mosquito hitting a trap lamp with a bright Bzzt! and then tablet goes dark in her hands. Newt grimaces.

It snowballs from there.

She shushes his apologies and uses the flip hospital phone that they use now instead of chargers/beepers to call the nurse station and request a backup one. It, accordingly, powers off halfway through her phone call. She shakes it with a frown and grumbles about the board of offices being cheap with their equipment, turns a sunny smile on him, and brightly says “well, I’ll just take down the basics and get your vitals while we wait. Do you have records here?”

“Uh. Maybe?” probably, “Which hospital is this?”

“The Brugmansia Hospital.”

“Oh! Yeah. I was born here. Uh. I changed my name though. Still Pulsifer for the last name though, figure there’s probably not too many of them around,” he laughs nervously, overly conscious of how awkward he is and how unable he is to do anything about it.

She still smiles, ever professional, and jots down his information. “First name?”

“Oh! Right. Sorry. It’s Newton now. Newton Pulsifer.”

“Thank you Newton, now I’m just going to take your vitals now.”

“Oh- I, uh, don’t really think-”

It’s too late, she’s come up to take his temperature with their new wireless, laser thermometer and it promptly errors out. It continues to error out no matter how many times she restarts it. The heavy seed of dread in Newt’s stomach grows larger. This is exactly why he tries not to go to places like this.

“I’m sorry. Uh, do you happen to have something maybe not, uh, electrical?”

She gives him a funny look for that and he shrinks back.

“Well. Let me get your blood pressure and o2 readings.”

Newt looks dubiously at the machine setup she wheels over to him. Miraculously, it goes okay when she wraps the cuff around his upper arm, and even when it starts. Everything avalanches when she puts the wireless o2 reader on him. Immediately everything in his room fritzes out, the lights even flickering before coming back, but all of the machines are still down or in the emergency boot up system restart.

“Oh bugger,” he sighs under his breath, quietly enough that the nurse fretting over all the technology can’t hear how resigned and unsurprised he is.

The avalanche continues when a nearby nurse ducks in and his tablet powers itself off. The smartwatch he’s wearing starts having three different alarms go off on it, and then there’s some shouts of alarm from outside Newt’s room that he’s really not sure that he wants to know what they’re about.

There are four people in his room now, in varying states of bewilderment and frustration, trying to figure out why everything’s malfunctioning in his room while also trying to get it back up and working. No one’s listening to Newt when he tries to explain that if he could just leave, it’d get better, but then, he’s mostly used to being ignored at this point.

More and more people trickle into the room, Newt spots the tech support guy he wished to be, frowning and scratching his head as he looks at everything. And then he looks at Newt.

A quick mumble about using the loo and Newt escapes out of the room, IV still attached to the weird metal stand and his arm but at least they’re not electronically powered. Just good engineering and reliable gravity.

He figures if he can put enough distance between him, and the rest of all that technology crammed into one small spot, that everything will boot back up just fine. And if not, Newt could write out exactly how to fix it.

So he heads to the loo, because now that he’s made the excuse, he figures he might as well try and also he’s betting on there being a whole lot less fancy technology in there. If only he could actually find said loo. Or any loo, really.

He’s waylaid by a small girl about ten minutes into his wandering of the halls.

“Oh. Hullo there.”

The girl is missing three teeth, has brown hair, and is looking at Newt as if he’s the newest attraction in the city zoo. Under her stare, Newt almost feels like one.

“Wut’er you doing?”

“Er... looking for the loo.”

She looks at him, looks in the direction he was heading in, looks back at him and matter-of-fact-ly says, “you’re going the wrong way.”

He blinks at her, which she takes as permission for her to reach up and grab his hand and start pulling him in the other direction. Bewildered, he followed.

And thus began a brand new game called “Lead the Newt” which had a revolving cast of characters, all under the age of twelve, each insisting they knew where the loo was, and each hiding him from sight any time an adult employee came near.

This scavenger hunt of a game ended at, not a loo (which made Newt extremely grateful he didn’t actually need one), but at a recreational sort of room. There was an old tv in one corner, an open treasure chest filled with costumes and toys, and a few bookshelves. The floor was spongy beneath Newt’s feat and looking down left him staring at brightly colored interlocking foam mat puzzle pieces.

For some reason, all of the co-conspirators find him funny, and really the only tech he might fry in here is a rather old tv that looks like it’s been outdated so many times it can’t recall if it’s outdated or retro at this point, so all in all... This is probably the safest room for Newt to be in. And certainly more interesting than the loo.

And that’s how he finds himself, an hour later, dressed in a paper hat of some kind (its supposed to be a jester’s hat) leaning against his iv pole, making elaborate gestures with his free hand, and telling terrible terrible jokes to a kid in a paper crown and to the amusement of the other kids around him. It’s most certainly a bizarre scene, but no one has commented on it as of yet and due entirely for the fact that the secondary game they’re all playing is ‘Hide the Newt’ any time an adult wanders by. Closets, corners, and blankets have all been heavily featured by now in this game.

So Newt can hardly be blamed for jumping near out of his skin when, after telling a particularly bad punny joke, he hears an adult’s laughter. So he jumps, jerks, and tries to turn to face the voice all in one motion and ends up somehow practically hogtieing himself in his iv cord and going down.

He ended up in a heap of limbs, metal pole, and iv cord wrapped all around him, and his glasses hanging half off his face. “Oh bugger...”

There was a snickering above him from the adult voice and the children alternating between giggles at his fall and joyful cries of “Crow Crow!”, “Mister Crow!”, and “Miss Crow!”. As Newt struggled to untangle himself, with the help of a few kids who both made things worse and better in turns, the other children began pleading with the Crow? Crow?? to pleeeeease let them keep Newt.

The stranger is crouching down to the kid’s level by the time Newt gets mostly upright, and they look a lot like they’re trying very hard not to laugh. “Now. However did you magpies manage to steal a whole person?”

Laughter sounds and they’re throwing themselves at the redhead and the two bags they set down. As the majority are immediately distracted by the prospect of sweets and the passing out of them, the stranger turns to Newt and raises an eyebrow high above dark sunglasses and says, “well? How’d they manage to kidnap you?”

Before Newt can respond the kids answer with excuses that pile over one another ranging from “he just wandered in!” to the actually mostly truthful “he was lost so we were showing him around!”.

“Oh really now?” they seem to be biting back laughter as they continue, “he was lost so you decided to help him by keeping him here?”

Some of the kids looked abashed while others look outright proud of themselves and to Newt’s surprise the stranger threw back their head with a short bark of a laugh before grinning as if proud of them.

Just in case he was reading the situation wrong, he’d done that with people more than a few times, Newt tried pushing through his embarrassment and awkwardness with an “It’s, uh, alright. Really. It’s been kind of fun, actually.”

“Ah. Yeah, they really grow on you.” The Crow glanced at the kids with a mischievous look, “like a fungus.”

Groans and laughter sounded before all of a sudden a shushing and pointing as an adult was seen wandering their way. Before Newt could blink they had him hidden out of sight shoved in a closet between some coats, puppets, and something slightly sticky that he had no intention of exploring further.

He could hear the somewhat muffled conversation of the kids pleading with The Crow to keep their secret before a new adult voice joined the conversation. The voices dropped away a bit, except for the nervous kids right in front of the closet attempting to whisper between each other, before he can’t make anything out at all. He waits, nervousness beginning to creep in because just how long was he supposed to stay in the closet? Actually, about that, he’d really had enough of closets and hiding in them. Terribly stifling and awful and much better really to be out of them.

Eventually there’s the sound of foot falls coming closer and closer to the closet and for a moment Newt’s heart picks up, certain that he’s about to be found and get in trouble. Then the doors are opened and it’s the red headed stranger who jokes, “ready to come out of the closet?”

And Newt’s still full of nervousness and it expresses itself by making him immediately blurt out “already did that once really. Was sort of hoping to not have to do it again.”

There’s a pause where the red head stares at him and the realization that he’s said that out loud crashes over Newt who flushes hotly. “Oh gods, I said that out loud...” and then The Crow tilts their head back and laughs.

“Been there, done that!” They agree with a grin and reach in to pull Newt out. “C’mon, ‘parently they’ve been running a missing patient code for half an hour looking for you.”

Newt relaxed fractionally, “you figured all that out from the nurse in five minutes?”

“Nah. Heard about it when I snuck in through one of the back windows. ‘s right beside one of the break rooms.”

“Oh, okay, that makes- wait. Did you say window?”

But they were already talking to the kids, “Alright you mischievous little magpies, you had your fun but we need to get him back now.” A chorus of “awwwws” and “but!!but!!”s sounded off but The Crow continued on, “if he’s here, he probably needs some help to get better, and I’m sure once he’s feeling better he’ll come say hi again.” Here they glanced over at at Newt expectantly, so Newt nodded since it seemed expected, and then they continued, “alright, so say bye to...”

“Newt.”

The Crow stilled, tilted their head to the side and asked disbelievingly, “really?” as if they didn’t also have the name of an animal.

“Yeah.”

“Alright magpies, tell Newt bye.”

There’s goodbyes and promises to come back and right as they’re leaving the first girl that had caught Newt comes up to The Crow and, in a whisper so very loud she might as well be talking, says “you hafta be nice to him!”

“Oh do I now?”

She nodded furiously, “he doesn’t ree-lize his jokes are reeeeally bad!”

The Crow seemed to choke on something before spluttering into a laughter the kid shushed them for.

“Sorry, sorry,” they managed, fighting back their grin and not looking sorry in the least as they chanced a quick glance at Newt.

The girl frowned, “you’re not sorry at all!”

“I am, I am!”

She looked unimpressed but when bribed with an extra pastry she let it, and them, go.

They’re on their way back to the nurse’s station (Newt didn’t even know what room they put him in) when he breaks the silence to ask, “is your name really Crow?”

“To the kids, yes. You can call me Crowley.”

“Oh. Nice to meet you Crowley. Did you really come in through a window?”

Crowley grinned at him, “trade secret.”

[swinterr]

Valerie IV

Valerie has been gone for 3 days and her family and Anwar are worrying.

They think that Valerie run away for some reason. But the truth is that Valerie is just chilling on her beach house without a care in the world.

Anwar was woken up by Yolanda, her mom, knocking in his room door continuously.

“Anwar! Anwar!” Yolanda continues to yell behind the door

Anwar groans and use a pillow to cover his ears to avoid his mother’s voice intruding him in his deep slumber.

“Anwar! Valerie is missing! Get the fuck up!”

That’s the time when Anwar start calling everybody.

He called his sisters, then Bella and Gigi starts calling everybody who knows Valerie.

Anwar even called Shawn.

Shawn is sitting on the couch inside his tour bus, strumming his guitar. Beside him is Connor and Brian playing Xbox.

As Shawn changes the position of his fingers his phone rings off.

Incoming call: Hailey Baldwin

Huh? that’s weird, they never really talked after their pr. Why she calling me? Shawn though

“Uh hello? Is this Shawn Mendes?” her soft voice fills the air, but not as soft as Valerie’s.

Shawn holds his guitar on his lap as his other hand holds the phone.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Bella called, Bella Hadid oh and Gigi called. You know them right?” the connection is a little weak so shawn’s having a hard time understanding plus the guys are are basically screaming at each other right now.

“Uh yeah. Wait a second.” Shawn mumbled as he sets his guitar down the couch, he prepares himself to scream at the guys.

He covers the speaker and shout. “Dude! Shut the fuck up!”

“Are you okay?” Hailey laughs as she hears guys complaining in the background.

“Anyways Valerie’s missing. The girls asked me to ask you if you know where she is.”

Shawn can feel the guys looking at him, he felt his world stopped spinning.

Anyway Shawn started calling everyone he knew who has connections with Valerie.

Basically that day was so stressful that even Andrew had to call Valerie’s parents to asked what’s happening.

-

Meanwhile Valerie had the best three days of her life.

She literally made the best decision of buying the house, although it’s expensive as heck.

Her house has a rooftop, with an helicopter parking in it. All she has to buy now is the actual helicopter. All that she can say is that her house is a dream. A gym, a pool, a library, a game room, a cinema room. Everything, she even have her own bar where she store her alcoholic drinks she stole from her dad.

On the first day she just watched movies on her laptop, ate fruits, went to the gym did some yoga. And on the afternoon she went sunbathing on the rooftop, she drove a boat and went fishing— in which she ate what she caught for dinner.

The second day is a chill day, she went to the gym at the morning and yoga at night. She spent almost her day sitting in the massage chair she brought. That’s all.

The third day— her last day she went jogging on the highway which is still her property, she thought that she the road is a little bit dark and sad. So she thought the next day when she will come back to Bel Air she will order bunch of lamp post, trees— specifically palm trees and other plants also, she will hire people to take care of her house at the same time will plant and will take care of her trees and plants.

Valerie now is packing her things, just her bag. She already did her laundry and decided to leave her clothes there in case if she come backs or something.

Valerie loaded her things on her car and zoomed off.

Before she goes she checked if she locked all the doors and the gates.

The car ride is interesting, she saw some paps on her way to Bel Air. Hoping that can glimpse at her and their family mansion which they kept private.

-

Its been a week since Valerie returned home from her mini vacation in Malibu.

Valerie and her dad hade some “serious talk” about what’s happening with her these past few days.

Eventually her dad, Virgo, figured out that her daughter and Shawn broke up.

Plus he said that ever since that dinner back in Toronto Valerie has been acting off and mostly sad. Virgo is worried about his angel’s mental health he says he missed the old Valerie, thus he ask Valerie to seek the help of a therapist which Valerie agreed too.

Her dad’s friend, Léon, also her godfather died because of depression. Although her case isn’t that deep. Virgo wanted her to be safe, also for him mental health is more important than physical health.

Few weeks later Shawn is in Oakland. Valerie had literally 4 sessions every week and after every session she does photoshoot and video campaigns for different brands.

Those sessions really helped him in forgetting their shared memories slowly.

That went pretty well. Today Valerie is getting ready for the ribbon cutting in Los Angeles for their hotel.

“You know what Val, I think you should quit studying and become a model.” Kayla, her make up artist slash hairstylist said as she blend Valerie’s blush out.

Her makeup is simple, glowy and natural except for her lips. Her team insisted that she should do a dark redish purple lip.

“Yeah you literally look like a Victoria’s Secret model.” Adrian, her stylists agrees.

Valerie’s looking beautiful as ever.

Adrian is currently zipping up Valerie’s dress while Kayla is touching up Val’s make up.

Valerie is rockin a black strapless beaded gown from Naeem Khan and a black and a black platform sandals from Malone Souliers.

Valerie is basically a model now, so she gotta serve looks, she gotta look stunning in every angle.

They are in Bel Air, in Valerie’s parents house.

“I don’t know I mean I would do it but I love learning.” Valerie shrugs.

“And besides, I’m not confident enough for that.”

“Girls?” a knock on the door interrupt them

They all stop what they’re doing and looked at the door.

“The car is waiting.”

-

“I’m so glad you guys made it!” Vernon greeted Brian and Connor.

Connor and Brian walked inside the hotel, with the maids giving them juice because Connor is still underage. Connor eyes widen when he saw the interior of the Valentin’s newly opened hotel while Brian just smirked.

“Hi I’m Vernon, I’m Val’s older brother.” Vernon approach the two while carrying baby Laslo in his right toned arm.

“Vernon! I brought my friend here, his name is Connor.” Brian introduced Connor to Vernon.

Vernon and Brian knew each other. They met last year at Valerie’s Birthday.

“Ahhh Connor, Shawn Mendes’ videographer?” Vernon shook Connor’s hands, he knew Connor through Val, she mention that he studies in UCLA just like him but he graduated already.

Laslo squirmed in his dad arms and extending his arm towards Brian. Wanting to be carried by him so Brian carried him, Brian extended his arms and carried Laslo.

Connor and Brian bodies stiffen when he mention Shawn, as a friend of Shawn of course they are embarrassed by his action.

“Where’s the kid?” Connor didn’t knew what to do so he looked at Brian, Brian eyes widen, he didn’t know where even Shawn is.

“Uhhh I don’t really know, he’s working on s project.” Brian awkwardly laugh.

“He better be, I’m gon—” Brian and Connor are mentally thanking Milo for cutting of his dad for saying something.

“Hi! I’m Laslo, I got my tooth of yesterday. The tooth fairy gave my $50.” Laslo proudly shows his missing bottom tooth to Connor.

Connor is about to answer when Viviane walked towards them.

Connor knew Valerie has two sibling. Valerie is hella attractive but he didn’t knew that even her siblings are attractive too. They look like greek gods and goddesses.

“Vernon dad’s looking for you.” Viviane look stunning, she looked like a model. She approached the group and once again Laslo is squirming in Brian’s arms, he wants Viviane to carry him.

“Brian! Nice to see you again.” Viviane smiled and hug Brian.

“Hi I’m Viviane Valentin, Valerie older sister. Nice to meet you.” Viviane hugged Connor.

“Go to the 23rd floor, Valerie’s waiting for you there.”

Viviane and Vernon walked to their parent but Vernon stopped and looked at them and said. “Tell Shawn he better be careful. Valerie is to precious to be cheated on.”

Connor eyes is practically shaking. Valerie and Viviane share the same personality with their Mom, except Valerie is more softer and Vernon and His Dad share the same personality except Vernon is more harsh and tougher like but he look soft.

“I’m literally dying when Val brother asked Shawn.” Chugged his juice down, his throat feels dry after their encounter with the Valentin’s.

The two are finally alone and can finally talk openly.

“I know! My armpits are sweating” Brian fanned his armpits.

“Dude, Valerie’s sibling are attractive! Have you seen her sister, her sister’s hot. Also I never knew Val was this rich!” Connor runs his finger through his hair.

“The first time I met her was when she was staying at her aunt’s house because I thought they don’t have no house but they are renovating their fucking mansion!” Valerie stayed at her aunt Veronica when their mansion is renovated, that’s when she met Shawn, Aunt Veronica’s house is directly to the Mendes’ Household and Brian’s house is just around the block.

“Dude Harvard is fee is around like $44,000 she rich rich!”

While the two are on their way to their designated floor they kept on talking about Val’s family wealth. Brian mostly keeps on talking to be honest because he known Val for years. He told Connor about them having private jets, mansion and other stuff that mostly billionaires can afford.

When Connor and Brian entered Valerie’s room they saw her crying on the bed with her laptop on.

“Valerie I miss youu but why are you crying?” the two lads run up to Valerie’s bed and hug her.

“I just got a modeling gig!” Valerie cried, Valerie has always been the sensitive type. When she’s hurt or happy she always cried. Shawn always calls her cry baby when they were younger until now.

“Really? That’s good but why do you need to cry?” Connor is confused.

Valerie models when it’s summer. She rarely do gigs when uni is starting.

“Yeah you should be proud!” Brian added.

“I know but it’s too much, I don’t think I can do it.”

“What brands are they anyway.”

“Um, Gucci, Burberry, YSL and Maybelline, Adidas, Calvin Klein, Moschino, Stuart Weitzman and also oh my god Chanel contacted me!”

“What!! 9 brands that’s crazy!” Connor started jumping and so does Brian.

-

Taglist:

@night-girls-world

@alinashawn

@feliciaceciliamariajacobsson

@clarissahunter

heyy i haven’t updated for a while hehehe. you guys still read this? if you do i love you, a lot has happened this past few months hehe

[jungxk]

just one (iii)

notes: the only guy on campus who’s track record trumped that of your best friend’s - park jimin - was jeon jungkook. not that that was a problem…until he set his sights on you.

warnings: eventual smut, swearing, bad habits (mentions of drinking, smoking etc)

genre: humour, drama, romance, college!au

wordcount: 7.3k

part i // part ii // part iii // part iv // part v // part vi // part vii // part viii // part ix // part x

contrary to popular belief, jungkook does set some rules for himself. he doesn't have many, but the ones he does have he's strict about.

the first was no drunks in his jeep. he already broke that rule by allowing you and your friend seulgi in, so maybe that was out the window. impressive too, because he hasn't let anyone in his truck that hammered since jimin after taehyung's 21st. he threw up all over the dashboard and jungkook could swear he smelt vomit in there for months. even though he's sensitive to smell and hates repeating the same mistakes, jungkook decided you were worth the risk.

which brings him to his second rule: messing around with girls was just that. messing around. every time he needs reminding of that jungkook remembers the cactus plant taehyung gave him back during his very first semester. he killed that thing in record timing to the point where even taehyung wondered if there was a malevolent spirit in the place, because how else could you kill a cactus? it perfectly depicted jungkook's most telling trait: he can't look after things. look out for things, sure. he can step into a fight if his friend needed help or walk an old lady to her car with groceries. because those were a one off, in-the moment things that jungkook is good at navigating. but long term things? investing himself? he could barely stomach his own emotions for a weekend let alone someone else's, so it really was a recipe for disaster for everyone involved. get in, get out, get going onto the next. that way everybody wins.

and that neatly bleeds into his final rule: no bringing girls back to his place (if he can help it). jungkook preferred to keep his personal and personal personal life separate, so the less girls knew about him outside the bedroom the better. besides, it's not like he's totally unreasonable - if his place was closest and the situation called for it, then fair enough. but that was hardly ever the case.

which is why he's here: stumbling around the park in the middle of the day, totally and utterly lost. he was sure he had taken this shortcut once or twice before but apparently he was wrong, because he didn't even know this half of the park existed.

"the fuck is this place," jungkook mutters to himself, shifting as best as he can through a patch of long grass. he's pretty sure he's got a twig in his shirt somewhere and he doesn't even want to think about that squishy thing he just stepped in. his dick may have had a blast last night (and this morning) but the timbs on his feet had definitely seen better days.

jungkook had been wandering around for so long now he considers calling the girl who's place he'd just left in hopes of getting some directions...but then realised he didn't have her number. and even if he did, what would he say? i made you cum faster than you could spell out my name but now i need you to fish me out of the park like a lost dog? and then the next hurdle: what was her name again? jane? joy? jill? it quickly becomes irrelevant when jungkook gets through the end of weeds and broken branches to an open plain of grass again. it's a cloudy day so it wasn't particularly beautiful to look at, but he's just happy to be out of the mess of trees. looking out to the large pond of water just where the steepness of a hill stops, he double-takes when he sees that the person sitting atop it is...you.

you. bundled up in a hoodie, no makeup, tongue sticking out while you work to get the shading of that wilted tree just right. it's a public place, there are people out on the streets, cars whizzing past, but jungkook still feels like he's stumbled upon something private, intimate even - so beautiful do you look, so simple and candid. just you in your own little world. his fingers practically itch for a camera.

raising a hand before calling out your name, jungkook is unable to stop a smile blooming across his face when you snap your head up. he comes over to you, out from all the bushes like it was a totally normal place for someone to be. you can't help but stare at him like he's go an extra head when he finally reaches you, hair all mussed and eyes wonderfully bright. he smells vaguely of women's perfume and cigarette smoke but fuck if you don't gulp a little at how delectable he looks, leaf in his hair and all. "fancy seeing you here, noona."

"i could say the same," you lean to peer over his big shoulder, quirking a brow. "jungkook, why were you in the woods?"

he looks back with you to inspect the path he came from. "i was in the woods?"

"yeah," you laugh, his dopey expression making warmth flourish in your chest. he looks so loveable when he has no idea what's going on, eyes all big and mouth hanging open like an endearing dumbass. the urge to kiss him hits you out of nowhere. "i'm um, guessing you don't come to this park often?"

"i do! i've been here like," he counts his fingers. "twice? once sober." he looks down at his feet bashfully. "i'm actually a little lost."

"i hadn't guessed," you grin up at him, gesturing, "the entrance is way on the other side, over there. if you keep walking this way and then turn left at the-"

"i'll just wait until you're done," jungkook insists, plopping down on the grass next to you. his shirt wrinkles up around the belt to extenuate the flat of his stomach, settling into the ridges of what quite obviously are his covered abs. he looks so innocent from the neck up, round eyes blinking at you through his hair innocently like he isn't all hard edges and stiff lines from the shoulders down. a wolf in sheep's clothing and all that. "if you don't mind, that is? i don't know if you realised but i'm not exactly good with directions."

"you're right. if i let you wander off alone i'll probably see your face on the news tomorrow. just gimme a minute to pack all this-"

the gentle hand enveloping yours stills you. "please. take your time," jungkook hums, letting you enjoy the warmth of his touch before settling back with his palms in the grass again. "i don't mind relaxing here a little while anyway."

you open your book again upon his insisting. "i won't be too long, promise. this fucking pond is just being difficult."

"looks pretty perfect to me," he muses, pretending to inspect your work when really he's inspecting you.

it goes straight over your head though, too enthralled in getting the lines right, getting every stain of colour placed where you want it. you made the dreariest looking pond look like a glittering lake, alive with colour and life that didn't exist in the real world. he scans the other page; more trees, dogs playing with owners, cloudy skies and orchids, so many orchids even though this park had none. you clearly had a liking for them.

"it's definitely not perfect," you laugh, wetting your brush and softening more edges. "but that's what i love about painting. perfect doesn't exist. or even desired." he hums in agreement, no longer able to look at your art, only you. the way your lashes gently flutter, a dimple forming at the side of your mouth when you purse your lips. you were so easy on the eyes jungkook doesn't realise he's staring until you break the silence. "so are you gonna tell me why you're lost in the park or are you gonna make me guess, slick?"

he grins. "you have three strikes, noona. use them wisely."

"booty call?"

"damn," he huffs, head tilting back while listening to your victorious laugh. "listen, it wasn't exactly a booty call. that would imply i met jane before," he pauses. "i mean joy. wait, jennie?" he scratches his head. "what's your friend's name again, jisoo? definitely not her..."

"ask your dick, he'll probably remember. do you want me to give you two some privacy?"

"what's it to you?" jungkook laughs, nudging your shoulder with his while he gnaws his bottom lip, because it's not like he was about to admit that jane/joy/jennie was the third girl he slept with this week to get you out of his head. it was slutty even by jungkook's standards, and even then it still didn't stop him from secretly hoping you'd at least get a tiny bit jealous - and at best, curious to take their place.

"nothing, nothing," you throw him playful look. "i'm just another art hoe sat in the park, who am i to judge?"

he laughs again, nose scrunching up cutely. "how did you find this place anyway?" jungkook peers around the fence of trees, making the area feel so much more secluded, as if the rest of the world was off somewhere else. "i never knew there was such a big pond here."

"neither did i, until jimin."

"jimin?"

a nod. "he brought me here a few years ago, back when i was," you don't know how to finish, wetting your lips. "back when i was going through a tough time. family issues and all that. he said everyone needs a place to scream and cry and this was his, so he gave it to me too. it also just happens to be very pretty."

you can feel jungkook's inquisitive eyes on you, regarding how wistful you look remembering the days you and jimin would come here every week for some respite from life. it all seemed so long ago but like yesterday at the same time, as if walking around in a dream. it's jungkook that lulls you back to earth with his velvet soft voice. "you know it's weird, i know jimin hyung inside out, have done since we were kids. when he's mad, upset, whatever it was," he pauses thoughtfully. "but i don't think he's ever opened up to me about his feelings. anyone, really. he comes out here to scream but he can't like, talk to people?"

"jimin's like that," you agree. "everyone thinks because he has a million friends he's an open book, but it's the opposite. i've known him all this time and he's never even cried in front of me!"

"same," jungkook sighs. "weird. especially since he was, like, the biggest crybaby from ages four to sixteen."

"sixteen?" you laugh. "seriously?!"

"you have no idea! one time as a joke i asked if he was crying even though he wasn't, and he got so annoyed he started crying," jungkook snickers, eyes crinkling happily while he falls about in giggles with you. "but then he grew up, went to college. gets himself some pussy every time he's upset now, i guess."

"it sounds awful when you put it like that!" you pause. "maybe it is a little awful."

jungkook shrugs. "it's the easy way out, is what it is. doesn't make him a bad guy."

you prod him. "are we still talking about jimin?" you're met with another nudge before continuing. "what i mean is he's always thinking of others, that jiminie," you shake your head fondly at the thought of him, and jungkook sees your affection for him etched all across your face. "i keep telling him that processing other people's emotions for them isn't healthy, but he won't listen to me. have at it when you get the time."

"what was it?" jungkook asks. "the emotions he processed for you, i mean?" he raises a brow when you make a face at him. "or do i have to reach level fifty before unlocking your tragic backstory?"

"try level one hundred," you scoff, hauling yourself up to collect your things. "now, do you wanna go get some coffee or sit here and talk about our abandonment issues? choose carefully, you only get one."

"coffee," jungkook scrambles to pack your art supplies for you, making you laugh. "coffee, coffee, coffee!"

x

x

x

"jiminieee!" you call out across the house, kicking the door shut behind you after letting yourself in. you're glad you never threw out your old key because it came in handy during times like this, when jimin couldn't answer a text to save his life. he usually wasn't so m.i.a. but that didn't mean he didn't have his moments from time to time. you just assumed maybe he had a girl over, in which case you had no problem eating all the snacks in the kitchen and playing video games with taehyung until he was done. "why didn't you pick up, i called you like, twice today! anyway i was thinking, do you-"

you stop dead in kitchen, surprised to see hoseok there with jimin. it's dead quiet, heads snapped to you like they've only just stopped talking upon your arrival. you can't help but blink back at them, a little dazed, unsure what you just walked in on. but before you can think too much about it, hoseok is shooting you one of his sweet smiles. "hey, ____!"

"hey hobi, uh," your eyes skirt over to your best friend nervously. "didn't think i'd see you here..!"

"hyung just came over for a catch up," jimin says, which is about as much of an explanation as you're gonna get. "sorry i missed your calls, i left my phone upstairs. everything good?"

"yeah i just," you shuffle closer to jimin, a habit you had when you felt uneasy. even though there was nothing to be uneasy about, so to speak; you and hobi had been texting regularly for a couple weeks now, so it's not like you had a reason to be so skittish. so why do you get the nagging feeling there's something you're missing? you ignore it in favour of jimin's pleasant expression. "i was wondering if you wanted to go see a movie? that new horror film just came out and i'm free tonight, so..?"

he strokes your back apologetically, venturing dangerously low. boyfriend territory, so to speak. "sorry ____, but i have so much work to catch up on before this weekend! remember irene noona?"

you lean into him involuntarily. "yeah?"

"she's having another thing on saturday. i really wanna go but i gotta submit my project first," jimin explains, his gentle caress along your spine enough to lull you into submission alone. "but hobi can go with you! you're free tonight, aren't you hyung?"

"um," hoseok wets his lips, eyes darting between the pair of you. "yeah. yeah, i'd love to take you for a movie, ____. if you don't mind, that is."

"oh, yeah of course not! that sounds great," you pat jimin's chest briefly. "too bad you can't make it though. next time?"

"next time," he nods, and you do your best not to shiver when he squeezes your hip.

x

x

x

you're still in denial all the way to the movie theatre, right up until hoseok pays for the tickets and the popcorn and the good coke. there was no denying it after that: you were officially on a date with jung hoseok.

and it was the first of many. because hobi was funny and understanding and sweet, planning around your schedule and picking things you liked to do. even if you cancelled last minute or opted for a night in, he was so chill about it all. if there was a definition of prince charming in the dictionary, hobi's face would be plastered next to it, his name in glitter cursive. this is further supported by the way he brings you flowers before taking you to a fancy dinner he saved up for, all the way uptown.

evidently, it was only natural that your first kiss with him be perfect as well.

"oh, hoseok!" you coo, plucking the fresh lillies from his hands happily. his cheeks burn with excitement, because you only ever call him hoseok when you're sincerely touched. he follows you into the kitchen while you put the flowers in some water, like a puppy on a leash. jimin was right, he muses. this way, everybody wins. "they're so beautiful! you really shouldn't have, i can imagine these costing a fuck tonne..."

"don't worry about that," hoseok says, stepping closer to you when you finally face him. he looks awfully dashing in his dress shirt and pants, hair swept back to reveal even more of his bright, handsome face. he reaches for your hand gently. "i'm just glad you like them."

"i love them," you smile, his heart fluttering with how pretty you look in that moment, all sweet features and a sweeter dress. "no one's ever given me flowers before, you know. maybe i'll sketch them tonight, so i remember forever."

"no need," he chuckles, taking another step. you're close now, awfully close. the richness of his brown eyes throws you, studying your face with the most gentle smile in the world. before he looks down at your lips. "i'll buy you flowers for as long as you'll let me."

hoseok reaches up to cup the side of your face, feather light and soft. he waits for you to pull away, and when you don't he leans in to meet you half way in a short, honey-sweet kiss. his lips are just as soft as they look, just as plump as you'd imagined. you sigh into his mouth when he kisses you again, a bit longer this time, falling into his chest for more before hoseok pulls back with a glittering grin.

"come on," he says brightly, tugging your hands. "i busted my ass for that reservation, so no tardiness!"

you hum with a nod, clutching his hand and letting him lead you out.

but of course, you got there on time. dinner was perfect, the food was delicious, the weather was lovely, absolutely everything was just right. and yet when hoseok kisses you goodnight at the door, you wonder why your chest feels like it's got a chunk missing. like scraping the bottom of a tub of ice cream for a piece of cookie dough and not finding any. you pad into your room, waiting expectantly for hoseok's got home safe text that he never forgets to send. you're so caught up in your head trying to figure out if the chicken you had at dinner is what's making you feel off, before your phone pings! right on time. but then you do a double take at the id.

[unknown number 9:28pm] hey it's slick :) just wanted to ask why you let me walk around with a leaf in my hair the other day. awfully mean of you noona

[unknown number 9:28pm] this is jungkook btw in case u havent guessed

[unknown number 9:29pm] unless im not the only guy u call slick...?

the laughter that bubbles up in your chest is so potent and refreshing you find yourself falling back into your bed in a fit of giggles, eagerly unlocking your phone to save jungkook's number. you had totally forgotten to anticipate his text in the weeks hobi kept you busy.

[you 9:32pm] thanks for clarifying, ur actually slick #4. jimins #5 if that helps

[you 9:33pm] you didn't pay for my coffee so it was revenge

[you 9:33pm] plus you Might have looked a bit cute

[jungkook 9:35pm] are u kidding

[jungkook 9:35pm] i got u those overpriced chocolate things which was like 4 coffees

[jungkook 9:36pm] ahhhhh there it is :) i knew u had a thing for me

[you 9:38pm] they're called croissants jungkook

[jungkook 9:38pm] idc lets go back to how u think im cute

[you 9:40pm] i thought you didnt like me calling u cute

[jungkook 9:41pm] ill take what i can get in this fuckin drought

[jungkook 9:42pm] my plan is to run with the cute thing until i evolve. charmander was cute in the beginning too but then he becomes charizard n everyones like woahhh

[you 9:43pm] are you literally 7 yrs old. am i talkin to ash ketchum rn

[jungkook 9:43pm] pls dont be silly noona ash was 10

[you 9:45pm] so older than u then

[jungkook 9:49pm] can we stop talking abt pokemon now im trying to flirt

[you 9:50pm] dont say that or ur ash hyung will be sad

[jungkook 9:51] i actlly hate u

you're so busy laughing you almost miss hobi's incoming message. you should have replied then and there, but the influx of jungkook’s messages keep you occupied. 

[hoseok 9:43pm] got home safe xx

[hoseok 9:43pm] had a lovely night with you hun xx wanna meet before class tomorrow?xx

x

x

x

"you're having boy trouble, aren't you?" is the first thing taehyung says when you drag him out of his room. and he's not wrong. jimin's out so it's safe enough to take the conversation to the kitchen, tae's smirk over his coffee mug only making you flinch harder. "well?"

"i mean," you tap the table nervously. "sort of? it's just not something i wanna talk to the girls about. or jimin either for that matter. unfortunately you're the only neutral party i have to indulge in."

"charmed. so what did hobi do?" he asks simply. "eat the nuggets off your plate? propose a threesome before the third date? wear denim on denim?"

"...one of those is not like the other, tae."

"you're right. if he took your nuggets the fucker wouldn't be even be alive right now."

"but to answer your question, no he didn't do anything. in fact, i'd go as far as saying he's been so perfect it's starting to make me think he's a hologram or something. some kind of sexy robot designed to charm women but he broke out of the lab and now we're dating."

he gives a snort of derision. "come on, he's a guy. there's gotta be something gross about him."

"nope! he dresses well, smells good, never late, texts me back," you hold your head in your hands dramatically. "he even finishes his political arts essays extra fast just so i have an outline for when it comes to writing mine. the guy is a saint."

"so why did you drag me out of my room during wank hours?"

"jesus, taehyung! it's one in the afternoon!"

"well?"

"i just!" you throw your hands up comically. "i think there's something wrong me! he buys me flowers, texts me good morning...so why don't i have butterflies? why aren't i rushing to reply to him? just the other night i left him on read for ju-for some other guy. i mean, half of me is like if i don't feel something then that's valid but the other half of me is wondering why? why do i feel like i ordered the wrong drink at a coffee shop and i only realised after the first taste? like, it's not a bad drink at all, it's actually quite nice. but it's not what i wanted. you know?"

he raises a dismissive hand to your rambling. "answer me this. do you wanna fuck him?"

you pause, mulling it over. "yeah, i guess."

"you guess?"

"well i wouldn't say no," you admit, huffing as you shift your mug between your hands. "because he's crazy hot and a great kisser, if that's any indication. i'm sure he wouldn't let me down. but i have cause to say the same about you and probably half of jimin's other friends too, so."

taehyung rolls his eyes. "well, ignoring the fact that that was possibly the most tepid compliment you could have given me," he leans across the counter so you can't miss the way his eyes bore into you. "if you're not desperate to fuck him, and i mean getting so excited you shiver a little every time he comes within a meter of you, then that's that. game over, case closed. you should never have to guess whether you wanna fuck a guy or not."

"but he's doing everything right," you wail childishly. "and it's not like i don't like him taehyung, i do."

he shrugs to that. "right. you just don't like him enough to continue dating him on your merry way without coming to me for advice? come on, listen to yourself! the guy's half way to asking you to be his girlfriend, if there's no spark now then what are you waiting for?"

"but maybe there will be! eventually! i definitely like him more and more the longer we've been dating," you counter. "isn’t that worth waiting for?" you groan when tae does nothing but shoot a pointed look in reply. "fine, i'm making excuses. but in my defence if you had to break something like this to jimin you'd be stressed too."

"jimin?" taehyung repeats, brows furrowing. "what does he have to do with this?"

"i mean he pretty much set us up. he's super invested too, he remembers when i need to text hobi back more often than i do." taehyung chews on the information. it doesn't sit well in his stomach and it shows, his lips pursing and his legs jiggling restlessly. "at least it put an end to jisoo and seulgi's crazy idea that jimin liked me. weird though, i didn't think guys would give so much of a shit about their friends relationships."

"yeah, weird," taehyung grumbles, effectively switching the conversation to what he knows will distract you before you can clock onto his pinched expression. "speaking of friends, jungkook says you two have been talking a lot recently. that true?"

"oh, yeah. yeah, i guess," you suddenly find your empty mug very interesting. "we text a bit. went out for coffee a while ago."

taehyung double takes. "coffee?" a pause. "like a-"

you silence him. "don't say date. don't you dare say date. i swear to god if you say date i'll make you a new coffee and pour it in your lap taehyung, i'll do it."

he smirks. "did he pay?"

"no, i got the drinks. but he got the pastries."

"but did he order any pastries?"

silence.

"it was a date."

"no it wasn't!"

x

x

x

"how are you feeling about friday?" jimin asks quietly, lips pressed into your hair so the words come out muffled.

you're half asleep against him, it's one of the few times you're snuggled up into him and not the other way around. you're not sure what trashy romcom is playing anymore, all you know is that jimin's chest is so comfortable under your head, his body so warm with yours cradled into it. you yawn before answering, burying your nose into his soft hoodie. "lunch with hobi? we have lunch together all the time, why would-?"

"no," he says softly, pulling back slightly to look at you. "the other thing."

you meet his eyes, and then it hits you. "oh." a heavy beat. "i-i totally forgot. i can't believe i forgot..."

"i'm sorry, i shouldn't have said anything," he apologises, tucking you further into his arm. you hope your heating cheeks don't give you away with how close you are against him, breathing him in like you would a lover. you're so entranced by his flushed lips and tender expression that you barely listen to what he's saying. "it's good that you're with hobi that day, though. keep you distracted a little, you know?"

"yeah," you hum, but it doesn't keep the sinking feeling out of your chest.

"i only brought it up because i wanted to cook for you that night," he smiles. "i'll make that pasta you like, we'll play some video games. it'll be fun."

you gaze up at jimin in that moment and you hear the words he won't say loud and clear: i don't want you to be alone. your affection for him surges and you think he can see it in your face, because he smiles back at you with a tenderness you don't see often. you shiver a little when he brushes some hair from your face, his touch lingering ever so slightly to the point where you think he just might kiss you. he doesn't, of course. he never has, and never will.

"that sounds perfect," you say finally, dropping your head back into his shoulder to hide your flushed face if anything. you wrap a tight arm around his middle, a silent thank you, and he resumes his cheek tucked against your head.

x

x

x

the next day it rained.

the kind of rain that comes out of nowhere. one minute jungkook was flying down the road with all the windows down and namjoon hyung's playlist blasting and then the next it's pouring, the sound of raindrops hitting his truck so loud he thinks maybe it will leave a dent on the bonnet. jungkook's just glad he got his sunset pictures done and dusted before the downpour, because fuck if his photography degree didn't rest in the hands of the weather forecast at this point. he has enough time on his hands to consider squeezing in a smoke with namjoon before maybe heading out for the night or even seeing what yoongi hyung is up to, but all that goes flying out the window when jungkook sees you. again.

you. standing in the street in the pouring rain outside the post office like a fucking crazy person. you, with no coat, no umbrella, not even a jumper. it's like you've seen a ghost and you're too scared to walk through the door, or maybe you are the ghost. swerving into the curb in a haphazard park, jungkook doesn't know. all he knows is that if the rain doesn't sweep you away any minute now then the fucking pneumonia would.

"hey! noona, what are you doing?!" he screeches through the open window. you just stand there, dumbstruck. even when you finally hear jungkook's yelling, it’s like his voice slips through one ear and out the other. "hey! are you fucking insane? it's pouring!" jungkook shouts above the downfall. you still can't move. "____, get in the car!"

you probably wouldn't have if you hadn't looked up to see jungkook's face, twisted in disbelief and what also appears to be worry. cars honk at him from how badly he's parked, butt of the truck sticking out in the road. he stopped for you...

he stopped for you. so you get in the car.

"are you crazy?!" he asks again as he frantically rejoins the traffic while you fiddle with your seat belt, so sopping wet and freezing that you slip and slide with the buckle. jungkook helps you just like last time, reaching over to click you in before glancing back at your face. you're absolutely drenched, hands wrinkled and hair dripping, clothes soaked through to the bone. and even though you're shivering in the passenger seat with barely any semblance of sanity, your grip on the little blue envelope in your fist doesn't falter. "why the fuck were you just standing there?"

"i," you start, but the words freeze up. "i, um..."

jungkook eyes you like the mad person you most definitely are, and you don't blame him. you look mad. you feel mad. out of sorts, like your spirit is floating around your empty body and the only reason you can't hear her yelling is because the sound of the rain is drowning it out. your chest heaves, air not coming into your lungs fast enough, pulse pounding in your ears. "put on my hoodie," he snaps, gesturing to the seat behind yours. "do you see it, the red one?"

you twist in your seat after a shaky nod, clambering around before grabbing it and tugging it over your head as you're told. it's so big and soft, so warm and so...jungkook. your eyes flutter shut when you bury your nose into the fabric, breathing in the smell of him. fresh laundry, soap, the faintest cologne. and something unmissably sweet. you don't know why but your eyes suddenly brim with tears.

"hey," jungkook says nervously, not knowing how to handle this. "you okay?" another beat. "you gonna tell me why you were out in this goddamn monsoon, or?"

you finally turn your head to look at him, really look at him. silver bracelets glimmer from jungkook's wrists while he drives, his hair matted and sticking up at the back a little. his muscles are hard, you can see the bulge of his biceps. his jaw is sharp, his mouth pursed into a line unhappily, but his eyes are soft. his voice is soft. his hoodie is soft. "i was," you look down at the envelope. it's crumpled and sodden but you haven't let go of it. "i was going to post this. i mean, i wasn't. well, i might have, but..."

jungkook steals another glance because he still has no idea what the fuck is going on. "you couldn't have taken your indecisive ass inside the post office to do all that?" you go quiet again and jungkook's chest feels tighten for some reason. "what kind of letter is so important you'd get drenched for it?"

"it's not a letter," you mumble. then, louder, "it's not a letter, it's. it's a card."

"a card?" he frowns. "like a birthday card?"

you nod. it's hits you then, like a punch in the gut: the shame, the utter embarrassment of it all. of jungkook fishing you out of the rain like this so you don't catch a death wish of a cold, bundling you up in his car like a little kid who got lost. but that's what you feel like, a kid wandering around. a basket case with a birthday card. so it was no wonder your thoughts start to spew from your mouth like projectile vomit but in word form. "remember, um," you gulp, trying to reign in your racing mind. "remember i told you i had, uh, family issues?"

jungkook peers at you, eyeing the road nervously between pauses. "yeah..."

"well, um," you scratch your head, hair flat to your scalp from all the rain. you ruffle it, irritated. "long story short, it's that. like i know i showed you my sketchbook and let you watch me paint in the park and rush to draw flowers before they die but all that stuff is...it's the reason why i'm here. i love it, i love art and it's who i am but if i didn't i probably wouldn't have been caught out in the rain and you probably wouldn't have come found me and-"

he shakes his head. "woah, woah. you're not back tracking far enough, what are you talki-"

"my family," you gasp. "they're not like me. they're not like me at all, jungkook, but i tried to be like them. my mum's a brain surgeon and my dad's a chemical engineer and my sister's a physics professor in some fancy university and i was gonna be just like them. i was gonna throw out all my paint and charcoal and be medical biologist, but i couldn't do it. i tried so hard for so long, but. but i couldn't do it," you're faintly aware of the tears sliding down your cheeks. "why do you think i'm friends with jimin? or rather, that he's friends with me of all people? we met through mutuals and by the time i dropped out of my science degree he was the only one who would still talk to me. i would have been living out of my car for eight months if it wasn't for him."

"what?" he eyes you frantically. "what do you...?"

"my family renounced me. cut me out of their name, threw away all my stuff, kicked me out the house, removed me from their will. everything you can think of, they did it. they're smart after all." you start to laugh at how ridiculous it all was, even though you're crying, even though you're angry, even though you're conflicted. "we haven't spoken in years."

"wait, just wait a second," jungkook tries to keep up. "they disowned you because you decided to be who you are and not what they wanted? what kind of pathetic idiots would throw away their own kid over something like that?"

"because their reputation is everything," you sigh. "you don't get it, jungkook. the kind of name they made for themselves is some top dog shit. they publish papers and take part in groundbreaking research like it’s a hobby. for them to say that one their esteemed daughters dropped out of university because she wanted to be a painter or some shit is a disgrace to their reputation."

his mouth visibly upturns, like he's tasted something bad. "they're the ones who are the disgrace. god, what fucking assholes!"

"but maybe it's better to be an asshole than a dumb fuck," you wave the drenched envelope mockingly. "look at me! i stood outside in the rain because i couldn't decide if i wanted to post my dad a birthday card or not! they haven't spoken to me in years and i still send them a fucking card every birthday," you cover your forehead, embarrassed just from saying it out loud. "they probably set it on fire the second it gets passed the mailbox! they probably throw it straight in the trash and here i am, still sending it."

"but you didn't," he points out. "you still have it there in your hand, don't you? and it didn't exactly look like you were rushing to get inside when i saw you either."

"well yeah, because i think it finally hit me how stupid i am," you look down at your knees. "i just wanted them to know that i don't forget the important stuff. i'll never forget. if i don't post it today then my dad won't receive it on time for friday, and. god, why am i still calling him my dad when technically he's legally not even my relative anymo-" you wet your lips, shaking your head. "it's been years. it's been years. and they've never replied. the only one that's still holding onto this whole thing and getting hurt by it is me, so maybe...maybe it's time i end it. i've already moved on in every other way and this is the last thing that's left, the last tie i have with them, so...yeah."

you wait for it; the spiel of expletives that usually follows when you divulge your past. how your former family don't deserve you, how you should turn your back on them just as they did to you, how wrong they were and how much better off you are in the long run. all things that you whole-heartedly agreed with, if you didn't you wouldn't be here. but moving on isn't a straight line. forgetting isn't like waiting for a pin to drop.

"i can't believe you're related to such disgusting pieces of shit," jungkook starts, knuckles whitening against the steering wheel. it's the first time you regard him now that you've finished rambling, and you can finally see how livid he looks, his face pinched together angrily. "have they even seen your art, though? just because you aren't talented in the same thing they are you get thrown out? all those fucking degrees and scientific bullshit but they can't even see their children as people, what useless fucks," and then, out of nowhere, "do you want me to turn around?"

your head snaps up. "what?"

"the u turn is coming up," jungkook clarifies, looking over his shoulder to check his blind spot. you stare at him, wait for any indication that he's joking or just fucking with you. he takes your wary expression as hesitation. "i can go in and post it and you can just wait in the car, if you want."

"wh-what..?" you try again, unable to do anything but gawk at him.

jungkook regards your disbelief, sighing curtly. "look, my opinion about those pricks is just that - my opinion. at the end of the day it's your life not mine so i can't tell you to do shit. no one can. so if you want me to turn the car around to go and post that card for you, i will. i can't help you with the other stuff, but i can help you with that."

your eyes well up again, hands shaking like leaves. you hadn't even told jimin about the cards in order to avoid the scorn, and yet here was jungkook. a boy you had only met a handful of times ready to support a decision that even he didn't agree with. the feeling was as relieving as it was...foreign.

he wets his bottom lip while you blink away your tears hastily. "so?"

"no," you say finally. "no, it's okay."

he looks at you seriously. "are you sure?"

you nod. "yeah, i'm sure. could you just, um, take me to jimin's? i think seeing him will help me feel better."

jungkook nods, changing lanes for the new route. "does he know? about the cards, i mean?"

you shake your head with a tiny laugh. "no way, he'd flip a shit if i told him! you know how protective he is, he hates my family more than i do."

"well i'm not exactly far off at this point either," jungkook mutters, and you can't help but smile. it makes him smile too, the gripping feeling in his chest washing away at the sight of your shining teeth and dimpled cheeks. he likes the way you look in his big jumper, hair messy and eyes bright. out of all the sunset pictures he took today, he realises that none of them compare to you in his passenger seat right now. "do you think you'll say anything?"

"nah, there's no need," you pause thoughtfully. "he's making me dinner on friday. to get my mind off it all, you know? sometimes i really don't understand why he does all this for me, but..."

"he loves you," jungkook shrugs, and you can't help but wince like you've been pinched. "he said it himself, you're like family to him."

"really?" you chuckle. "what a sap."

"i told you. the nation's crybaby," jungkook smirks, pulling up outside jimin's place. he reaches out to touch your wrist when you go to remove his hoodie. "don't, you can keep it. don't look at me like that, i have like a hundred-"

"i'll wash it and bring it back to you," you take his hand before he can remove it. "thank you, jungkook."

"don't mention it," he starts, but you shake your head.

"not just for your hoodie," you say, the thrum of your heart suddenly in your ears again. you grip his wrist, tugging him over the console. it's like your body acts without your brain's permission because it's all over in a flash; jungkook's doe eyed face close to yours, your soft lips against his cheek in a short kiss.

his mouth is still hanging open slightly when you jump out his car and wave back cutely. he thinks maybe he imagined it, maybe he's about to wake up any second now. he's not sure why his palms are suddenly clammy and his heart is racing a mile a minute because lord knows getting his cheek kissed is the most innocent thing to take place in this truck, but he can't help it. the smell of you mixed with rain linger in the air and jungkook has to take a second to steady his hands on the wheel, fix his breathing like he's a fifteen year old who's never been within an inch of a girl before. for the first time in years, he panics. 

don't bite off more than you can chew, jimin had said. and suddenly jungkook hears it differently.

[your-iron-lung]

No Shade in the Shadow of the Cross 10

aka ‘The House That Dripped Blood’; available to read on AO3 HERE

Story Synopsis:  Some weird low-key occult parties start popping up that Steve can’t in good conscience ignore and takes it upon himself to investigate. Billy gets caught up in the consequences of his meddling, and isn’t it funny? For all the strange things the Upside Down has thrown his way, it’s werewolves that Steve has trouble accepting exist.

Chapter Word Count: 7927

Pairings: Eventual Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington

Genre: Supernatural/Drama/Horror-ish

Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9

Next Chapter: 11

Notes: if you follow me you may have noticed i havent posted in a while- this is bc i spend all my time playing ffxiv instead of setting aside determined amounts of time to spend on writing/drawing and i have a bunch of artist alleys coming up that im ill prepared for and im terrible at budgeting UH YEP bad excuse but WHAT CAN YA DO here we are

(ive also set up a ko-fi account if you want to give drop me some tippy tips if u enjoy the word things i do) ((no pressure tho))

"Bigfoot."

Hopper leaned back in his chair; let it creak and groan under his weight until he knew it was at its limit, and then pushed it a little more. He studied the no-nonsense expression on the hunter before him, and intrinsically knew that the man was speaking truth.

"Bigfoot," the old man said again, speaking a little sterner than he had before once he recognized Hopper's amiable expression of disbelief. "I seen't him out in the woods just the other day."

The aging man had lumbered into the police station almost immediately after Hopper came in, bundled in some worn hunting gear that looked almost as old as he was. The deputies had offered to speak with him after hearing his initial claim, but they'd been refused when Callahan couldn't stop smirking. The old hunter had insisted on speaking with Hopper, who leaned forward now, taking the stress off of his chair to take a sip of the coffee Florence had brought in for him. He didn't look at the old man as he drank.

"So let me get this straight," Hopper began, setting his coffee aside to rub at his forehead, "you came in first thing in the morning worried about a missing friend of yours, but now you're telling me you're worried about Bigfoot."

"You know me, Jim," the hunter said, a slight hint of pleading desperation edging out of his voice. "You know I ain't some crazy old coot. I ain't seen Lamm in a long while, and yessir I'm worried 'bout him, but when I went out to his cabin to check on him I seen it: I seen Bigfoot!"

As incredulous as the claim was, Hopper believed him- not about it being Bigfoot, exactly, but he believed that the man had seen something out there in the woods, and it had the possibility of being that something he'd spent the last two weeks fruitlessly searching for.

Regardless, he didn't want to let the old hunter know he was taking him seriously. The last thing he needed was for his community to think he believed in this sort of nonsense, but people in town were going missing, and people he knew were getting hurt: if his only lead should turn up in the form of an old man believing he'd caught sight of an urban legend, then so be it. He'd follow it through, but he'd be subtle about it.

"You sure it wasn't just a trick of the light or something, Wes? You know your eyes aren't what they used to be," Hopper remarked casually, softening his voice to let him down easy. "And this isn't the first time Lamm's gone missing; you know he's one of those types of shut ins. Remember those weeks he was gone hunting 'vampires'? He's the kind of guy who lives in his own head more than he lives out here, he'll turn up again on his own time."

The hunter's lips twitched into a frown. "Alright, maybe Lamm is a little off kilter," he relented, averting his eyes for a second, "and maybe it weren't Bigfoot, but the tracks it left were huge 'n mighty, by God, and I ain't seen nothin' else like it before. If it weren't Bigfoot, then at the very least it had big feet, Jim, and I ain't never seen feet quite like 'em."

Interest piqued, Hopper became more attentive. "How's that?"

"Well, they was stretched out lookin', for one." The hunter paused, tilting his head slightly as he tried to recall the details of what he'd seen out in the woods. He held his hands up, spaced apart in an approximation of how long the prints he'd found had been. "Human lookin', almost, which is what had me thinkin' it coulda been Bigfoot. They weren't the tracks of somethin' native 'round here, and I only caught but the barest glimpse of it, but it was tall, Jim; taller'n you or I."

That sounded right; the prints he'd found and unsuccessfully tracked were, as the hunter said, 'huge 'n mighty' and matched the description of what he'd just been told. It didn't take an expert's opinion (though he had consulted one) to discern that the markings just weren't natural. Hopper set his mug of coffee aside and pulled out a notepad from one of his desk drawers. He uncapped a pen and held it to the page for a moment before writing down a few preliminary notes for himself on the top line.

The hunter cocked his head and leaned forward to look at what he was writing and said, "That don't look official."

"Because it's not; this one's just gonna be between us, alright?" Hopper said, looking up to meet Wesley's blue, watery eyes. He held the stare long enough to get his point across, waiting for a sign of affirmation before looking back to the notepad and pressing the tip of the pen to the paper. "Tell me where and when exactly you saw this 'Bigfoot' of yours."

The day was cold and grey at its start, with harsh, biting winds ushering in thick clouds that blocked out any hope of the sun ever making an appearance. Steve eyed the sky apprehensively as he made his way back to his car, wary of the way the clouds looked as though they might start dropping hail on him at a moment's notice. Billy feigned disinterest as Steve opened the rear passenger door and leaned in to shove the box of things he'd bought at the Hunting & Camping store into the backseat. Even with his vision obscured in part by the sunglasses he'd elected to wear, he didn't miss the strong look of annoyance that graced Steve's features when he came around to the driver's seat and entered the car with a pout.

"That guy give you a hard time or something?" Billy asked as Steve buckled in and put the BMW into reverse, turning in his seat to hastily jerk the car out of the parking lot. "Why do you look like someone shit in your cereal?"

Steve clicked his tongue. "He just kept asking what a 'kid like me' needed with a bunch of chains and rope and shit. My god, he just would not let it go, like he thought I was trying to build my own sex dungeon or something. Fucking annoying."

"You mean that's not what we're doing?" Billy asked, grinning a bit at the way Steve's face pinched up in disgust. "What'd you say?"

"I told him the truth; said it was to tie up a werewolf. 'It's a full moon tonight, y'know? Gotta tie 'em down or they go all crazy on you', I said to him, and you know what he said to me then?" Steve asked, speeding out of the little downtown shopping area Hawkins played host to and sounding every bit as gossipy as Carol did when she caught wind of a scandal.

"How the fuck would I?" Billy drawled, turning away from the conversation to watch the scenery pass by disinterestedly.

"He said, 'Damn fool kids will never learn'," Steve said, ignoring him. "'Damn fool kids will never learn', like, what the hell does that mean?"

Billy shrugged. "Who knows? As long as he accepted daddy's plastic then what does it matter?"

Steve clicked his tongue again in annoyance and rolled his eyes. "Fuck you."

Feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on, Billy declined to retort. They rode on in silence, the chains in the box Steve had bought clinking together softly in the backseat before the radio was finally turned on to mask the sound.

Regardless of whether or not Steve actually believed something was going to happen to Billy that night, he couldn't deny that the whole day leading up to that evening just felt… off. From meeting up with Billy earlier that afternoon to go by the camping store, to grabbing lunch together before heading over to the Henderson's house, it all felt wrong.

It was something Steve had difficulty pinpointing the origins of, but as they began work on clearing out enough space in the cellar for Billy to do whatever it was he thought he was going to do, he soon came to realize that the feeling of wrongness seemed to stem from Billy himself.

Few words could better describe Billy than 'annoying' or 'smart-mouthed', but he'd been uncharacteristically tight-lipped all day. He'd become a remarkably dull version of himself, and Steve wasn't sure quite how to handle that.

Usually one to argue and bite back at everything Steve said, when he'd begun dishing out instructions on how best to clear out some floor space in the cellar, Billy hadn't talked back to him a single time; merely lit a cigarette and blinked at him slowly, silently acknowledging what had been asked of him before getting on with it.

It was unsettling. Steve could almost say that he hated how submissive Billy was because of how used he'd gotten to the back-talk and smart-ass remarks Billy usually had ready for him, and though, yes, there were times he had wished for this kind of attitude from him, the silence and absolute subordination coupled with all of the other behavioral changes Billy was exhibiting were enough to set Steve on edge.

Billy kept tonguing the gaps in his teeth where they'd fallen out over the course of the week, and he never seemed to realize he wasn't alone. Sometimes he'd jump at the sound of Steve's voice, or shake his head and crease his brow in confusion when he turned around to see Steve moving stuff somewhere behind him, but arguably the worst part of it all was that he stank.

He'd tried to mask it with an overabundance of cologne that had nearly suffocated Steve when they began working in closer quarters, but buried beneath that was a hint of something that smelled awfully rotten. If he had to, Steve could liken it to the stench of the monster they'd encountered in the woods, but he chose not to, instead chalking it up to a severe case of nervous b.o. or something. The implications that the scents could be related bothered him too deeply to believe, and even then he wasn't sure he really wanted to know what the source of the smell was.

The stench of decay emanating from Billy's person was worrisome enough on its own, but with so much to do in order to get ready before sunset, Steve had a hard time figuring out where to primarily apply his focus: there were simply too many things going on for him to worry about one thing more than another.

The giant hole in the wall that Dart made to tunnel out of the cellar was his immediate concern, but Dustin had done a good job of hiding it from his mother by placing a tall shelf in front of it, essentially blocking it off. That didn't mean it wasn't entirely inaccessible, but Steve wasn't sure what more he could do about it. In all honesty, he'd forgotten about it until he'd tried to move the shelf aside and then found himself peeking into the eerie tunnel. He'd knocked over several things in his haste to put the shelf back in place, but Billy hadn't seemed to notice it, and if he didn't, maybe he wouldn't think to use it if- or when- he lost himself to whatever supernatural effects he was experiencing.

"Big if, though," Steve muttered aloud to himself. Turning away from the shelf, he looked over to where Billy was inspecting some old power tools, turning a nail gun over in his hands before setting it back in the box he'd pulled it out of. "So, are we good or what? This baby-proofed enough for you?" Steve asked, startling Billy out of whatever ruminations he'd been lost to.

Billy looked at Steve blankly, face impassive and emotionless. He frowned, and then looked around himself as though he'd forgotten where he was. When he spoke, his voice was monotone and devoid of his usual arrogance as he said, "I don't know, Harrington; is it?"

"You tell me, man, this was your idea." Steve watched as Billy returned his focus on the box of tools he'd originally been rummaging through. Picking up a hammer, Billy balanced its weight in his hands before gripping the handle tightly. Steve distrusted the look in Billy's eye as he held it. "What are you, a child? Quit rifling through their shit, put it back," he said.

Billy didn't reply or even acknowledge that he'd heard him. Ignoring Steve's demand, he stepped up to the abandoned work bench to splay his left hand out over the wood and lifted the ballpeen up.

"What the fuck are you doing? Put it down," Steve said again, his voice rising slightly in pitch when he understood what Billy was doing. He started towards him in an effort to stop him, but halted when the hammer was brought crashing down.

It missed his hand, but the force of the impact splintered the wooden table's surface. Steve gaped as Billy turned around, a cocky little smile turning up his lips.

"Someone could get hurt real bad down here if they weren't careful, huh, Harrington?" he said, a fierceness that Steve hated to admit he'd missed charging his voice. "But we've been real careful cleaning this shithole out, haven't we, pally?"

"You sick piece of shit, give me that," Steve snapped, snatching the hammer away from Billy's pliant grip. "Fuck you, Hargrove; you could've just said you wanted to move this shit out of here."

"Had you pegged as being more of a visual learner," Billy sneered as Steve threw the hammer back into the box of tools. "Your concern was touching, though, really."

"You're the one who came asking me for help, fuckface. Begged me, almost, if I'm remembering right. 'Oh, Steve, help me, I'm so scared of fake movie monsters!'"

Steve hadn't meant to rise to the taunt, but Billy's insufferable attitude had him stooping to his level as he hoisted the hefty box of tools in his arms and lugged them over to the stairway. Billy laughed dryly at Steve's mocking tone.

"We both wish that fucking thing had been fake," he said as Steve placed the box on the ground at the foot of the stairs beside the box of supplies he'd bought earlier. They were both quiet for a moment, their attempt at a conversation dying as quickly as it had been brought on.

"Only one thing left to do then," Steve said morosely.

Billy blinked and turned to face the stairway, eyes rising slowly up to where the cellar doors were propped open wide. Steve felt the guilt of having to lock him in prematurely and had to remind himself that he wanted to be locked in.

"Better hop to it then, Harrington," Billy said lowly, lips curling back into a familiar grin, but without all his teeth in place to flesh it out, Steve found the display to be more unsettling than annoying. "Let's get this sex dungeon set up."

Steve grimaced. "Not even in your wildest dreams, Hargrove."

"Nothing's off the table in my dreams, pretty boy." Billy breathed out a small laugh at the disgusted look on Steve's face, but the grin he'd been displaying slowly fell away. "Is it getting dark yet?"

"Uh, kind of, but the sun hasn't set yet," Steve replied, stepping up into the stairwell to check the status of the sky. It was as dull and grey as it had been all day, the overcast weather acting as a harbinger for the snowfall the local meteorologist had foretold was coming. "If you took off those fucking sunglasses you'd be able to tell."

"These are for your benefit as much as mine," Billy snapped, frowning suddenly.

"Yeah, okay, whatever that means," Steve said dismissively as he began to fish out the cords of rope from the box, letting them spool out onto the ground before gathering them into his hands. "How do you uh, how do you want to do this?"

"Aw, is this kitten's first time tying someone up?" Billy purred, not moving from where he stood in the middle of the cellar, directly under the light. "Who knew 'King' Steve's favourite flavor was vanilla."

Steve rolled his eyes as he brought the ropes over, wrinkling his nose at the mixed smell of rot and cologne that got stronger with proximity. "I've dated girls kinkier than you'd know what to do with," he retorted as he gestured for Billy to hold out his hands.

"Oh please," Billy said with a snort, "there are no kinky girls in Hawkins or I would've found them by now."

"You're obviously not looking hard enough," Steve muttered in response, gesturing again for Billy to hold out his hands.

Shrugging out of his leather jacket and tossing it over the work table he'd splintered, Billy held his hands up obediently and watched stoically as Steve wound the rope around his wrists, binding his hands together roughly.

"What's should our safe word be?" Billy teased, smirking as Steve wound another, longer length of rope over the original knot.

"There is no safe word because this isn't a sex thing!" Steve insisted angrily.

Flustered, he sighed irritably as he wound the long part of the rope around Billy's waist, hating how close he had to get in order to make sure the rope was tight enough, though Billy seemed to be enjoying how close he'd gotten. He kept shifting his weight around, trying, it seemed, to get Steve into a more compromising position. Annoyed, but determined to finish, Steve did his best to ignore Billy's constant movement and the disgusting, rotten musk that was wafting off of his person to finish tying him up.

"Why do you fucking stink so goddamn badly?" Steve finally asked with a scowl, repressing the urge to gag as he tied the ropes off into a clumsy knot. He stumbled away from Billy, reaching up to pinch his nostrils shut so he wouldn't have to smell the rot anymore, but the rancid scent seemed to have lodged itself deep into his nose. "You smell like a dead Calvin Klein model or something, holy shit, did you use a whole fucking bottle?"

The amusement Billy had held while taunting Steve left his face. His smirk shrunk into an awkward grimace as he looked away in embarrassment.

"I don't know, alright?" he admitted bitterly. "It doesn't matter how much I bathe, and between that and my eyes I have no idea what the fuck's going on with me."

"What about your eyes?" Steve asked hesitantly, unsure if he really wanted to know the reasoning behind why Billy had insisted on wearing sunglasses all day.

Billy faltered for a moment, hesitating briefly before reaching up and plucking the sunglasses off his face. With both hands bound together, he awkwardly folded the legs against the lenses and tucked them into the collar of his button up. He turned his gaze to Steve, who couldn't help but suck in a slight breath of surprise.

His eyes were so bloodshot they looked ready to start bleeding straight out of the sockets. There were hardly any whites left in the sclera to be seen as Billy winked at him, looking immensely uncomfortable at the way Steve was gaping openly at him.

"Do they- hurt? Or whatever?" Steve asked, unconsciously taking a few steps forward to get a better look. In the dim lighting of the basement, even the blues of Billy's eyes looked reddish.

"What's it to you if they do?" Billy snapped, suddenly irritable. He squared his jaw and looked away, unable to face the amount of concern Steve was showing him.

The worry Steve felt for the both of them in that moment grew stronger as he backed off, letting the matter of the changes in Billy's physicality drop, despite how alarming they were. "If I don't hear anything an hour after the sun goes down, I'll let you out," Steve said abruptly as he walked backwards towards the stairwell, grasping for the hand rail behind him blindly, unsure why he was so reluctant now to let Billy out of his sight. It was what they'd agreed upon earlier, and he said it meaning for it to sound reassuring, but the way Billy's lips twitched made it apparent he didn't interpret it that way.

Billy didn't respond.

"Well, uh, I guess that's it then," Steve said as he bent down, placing his box of chains atop the box of tools Billy had been messing around with before lifting them up together to carry them up and out of their man-made dungeon.

The cellar doors shrieked loudly as they were closed, a high pitched agony that erupted when the metal grinded against itself uncooperatively. Steve didn't mind that so much as he hated the sound the chains made as he wove them through the door handles, reminding him of what he was doing and who he was imprisoning as the steel rattled sharply against the doors. He winced at the commotion, but continued to loop them through the small door handles until no more could be fit between them. He tested their sturdiness by attempting to pull them open, and to his pleasure, they remained shut. The doors were secured; the cellar, as far as he was concerned, was now a suitable prison. All that was left of him now was to play the role of the jailor appropriately.

He stared down at his handiwork for a moment before the cold, blowing winds prompted him to seek shelter. Already a few snowflakes were fluttering out of the sky, flying into his cheeks as he turned away, re-gathering the box of tools in his arms and headed for the door Dustin promised he'd leave a key for.

Searching under the backdoor mat, Steve found the promised key, and true to the rest of Dustin's word, the entire home was empty, save for the cat that chirped a greeting for him from atop the kitchen counter. With a deep intake of breath Steve glanced at his watch, stepped inside, and shut the door behind him, wondering if he really was prepared for the worst. In the trunk of his car his bat waited for him, ready to be put to use just in case shit really did hit the fan, but he found himself questioning if he'd really be able to use it; bludgeoning monsters to death was one thing, but turning it on a boy he knew was only a monster figuratively was something else entirely.

For both his and Billy's sakes, he hoped it wouldn't come to that.

Shrugging out of his thick coat, Steve set it down beside him as he took a seat on the Henderson's couch. He glanced at his watch again, dismayed by the fact that time wasn't progressing as fast as he wished it was and sat in anxious worry about what the rest of the night might have in store.

But at least he was comfortable and warm.

The cellar was not.

It wasn't the cold that Billy minded, so much as it was the anticipation: when would the transformation start? Exactly at sundown? A little before? A little after? Would he actually end up transforming? And why the fuck did the word 'transform' make him so damn uncomfortable? The unknown factors surrounding his circumstances were almost worse than any of the physical symptoms he'd been experiencing as of late, and he'd been experiencing a lot.

Anxiety wasn't something Billy had a lot of experience with, but it was the only thing he could think of that explained why his heart had been beating oddly all day. It was running at a notably higher rate, as though he'd been playing basketball or working out extraneously, and brought on palpitations he wasn't used to dealing with at the elevated speed.

In short he felt terrible. His whole body ached like it was going through puberty again. Both his arms and legs were sore in ways that mimicked the aches that came with growing pains when he'd had them, but he couldn't understand why he would begin to hurt in that way again. He hadn't had the energy to work out in two days despite eating practically anything he could get his hands on, so the soreness in his limbs was unwarranted. Either his body was preparing itself for the coming night, or he was having an incredibly drawn-out heart attack.

Standing at the foot of the stairwell, Billy felt the cold permeating in through the closed opening and moved away to find a better spot to wait. He wanted rub his arms to bring some warmth into them, but couldn't with the way they were bound. Already the ropes were beginning to dig into his wrists, rubbing uncomfortably against his skin as he realized he wasn't actually that cold anyway, despite the frigid weather; his body temperature had been on a steady incline leading up to now, leaving him with a rosy complexion and a near constant fever, the long-term effects of which left him feeling severely disoriented.

He could barely remember meeting up at Steve's house only a few hours ago to carpool to his kid friend's house, riding with the windows down in spite of the severe wind-chill as they went into town to get lunch and buy rope. Even though they'd ridden together, he couldn't remember now if they'd actually talked about anything or not. All he could remember were the low tones of the radio and the resonating throbs of the wind as it swooped in through the open windows, rushing to fill the audial space between them. It was as though his mind had been steeped in a fog, and he couldn't accurately think through it: everything was clouded over, incomprehensible, like waking up the morning after a bender and being unable to remember everything he'd done the night before, but knowing all the same that he'd taken part in some memorable shit.

Would there be pain, he wondered, and would it come on as suddenly as it had to the character in the movie he'd made Steve watch? Even though 'American Werewolf' was just a movie, stories like that had to spawn from some sort of truth, didn't they?

The dim little lightbulb that hung overhead flickered briefly, drawing Billy's attention to it as he took a seat at the work table's bench, wishing his eyes weren't a dry and sore as they were.

Coming from above, he could hear the muffled sounds of a TV show permeating through the cellar's ceiling. He couldn't help but think ill of Steve in that moment, but if their situations had been reversed, he probably would have been doing the same thing; he couldn't fault Harrington for finding a way to pass the time, though he wished he had something similar to do for himself. There was nothing interesting to hold his attention, and time passed at a dreadfully slow rate.

Stretching out on the bench, he laid himself down slowly, mindful of which parts of his back hurt the most, and gazed up at the cement overhead disinterestedly. He listened to the muffled sounds of the distant television, trying to conjure an image in his mind that corresponded with what little dialogue he could hear, but the rapid beating of his heart overpowered the noises coming from the TV. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing in an attempt to lower his heart rate, but it just kept going, pounding in a determined rhythm that seemed to be quickening with each passing minute. A bead of sweat trickled down from his scalp and over his ear as he wondered if the tingling he felt in the tips of his fingers was because of the cold or from the ropes being tied too tight.

He flexed his fingers, opening and closing his hands into a fist to try and bring sensation back into his fingertips, but to no avail. They remained numb, and the cause of which eluded him.

Frowning, Billy stiffly sat up and began to pinch at his skin, belatedly realizing that the numbness was spreading slowly down the lengths of his fingers, a sensation that sent a chill running down the length of his spine.

"Oh," he said. "Oh shit."

The pain, when he finally did begin to feel it, started in his feet. There were still thirty minutes before the sun went down.

Billy licked his lips nervously as he tried to get his boots off, his numb fingers and bound hands fumbling uselessly with the laces as the pain centralized in his toes and grew in sudden intensity. He was no stranger to pain, but this was unlike anything he'd ever felt before: it was sharp and stabbing, with each throb of pain stemming from the bones in his toes, as though they were growing more pointed in an attempt to pierce their way through his skin as they elongated. He could feel them cracking; each joint slowly popping free of itself as the bones began to push themselves forward.

"Oh, shit," he repeated, and could hear the muffled sounds of a laugh track from whatever sitcom Steve had turned on upstairs roaring in delight as he struggled to finally pull his boots off.

The stabbing sensation didn't relent, even once his shoes lay discarded by his feet. He peeled away his socks with shaking hands and stared down at his toes.

They'd turned a bright, beet red and were bulging like they might burst apart, his skin bubbling up around toenails that were already starting to peel off. He couldn't help the whimper as he tentatively felt them, a pain like touching a freshly popped, skinless blister causing him to draw his fingers back.

It was real. It was happening.

Sweating freely now, he reached away from his feet to brush his dampened hair away from his forehead as sweat rolled down the sides of his face. He paused when he felt his hair pull free from his scalp, clinging to the back of his hand stubbornly. Billy stared at the loose, curly strands with a horrified expression and reached up with a shaking hand to grab more. When he pulled, a handful of his hair came away easily, eliciting another whimper from deep within his throat. Disgusted and frightened, he threw his hair away to the floor.

Breathing quickly, he hastily rubbed his hands free of the loose strands in a panic and tried to calm himself. His whole body trembled as he breathed in deeply through his nose, wondering if he should try to call out to Steve to alert him that the worst case scenario was indeed unfolding. Another laugh track from upstairs came through the ceiling as he felt a sharp, sudden stab of pain in his ribs, prompting him to gasp loudly and curl forward over himself. He could actually feel some part of his ribcage shifting inside his torso as he tucked his arms in to his sides. Any lingering thoughts of trying to remain calm left him as he transitioned from panic to full on fear.

He stood up not knowing what he was going to do, but regretted it instantly: as soon as he put weight on his foot, his ankle collapsed in on itself and brought him to the floor. A shout almost came out with his fall, but he managed to internalize the pain as he was used to doing and grit his teeth as his foot essentially broke itself in half.

The central part of his foot that arched snapped without warning. Billy swore loudly and reached for his foot instinctively, wanting to hold the break in place, but he couldn't bear the agony that came with the contact. Warm tears leaked from his eyes, and when his other lateral arch also split in half, he couldn't help but cry out.

From up above, the noises coming from the television ceased. Steve must have heard him and was listening for him now, trying to gauge whether or not he should intervene. Billy clenched his jaw tighter, determined to keep quiet, but gasped loudly when two of his molars gave out under the pressure, snapping to the side and coming loose of his gumline. The copper taste of blood filled his mouth as he spat the teeth out, shuddering uncontrollably when he felt the vertebrae in his spine begin to pop, one by one, pushing up against his skin that was quickly beginning to feel too tight.

Huffing in great breaths of air, he panted heavily as the bones of his tones finally pierced through his skin, causing most of the flesh surrounding them to burst open like little balloons. Blood splattered across the floor in gruesome, miniature arcs and Billy finally, finally became undone. He shrieked, unable to keep silent any longer as new appendages could be seen inside the flayed bits of bloody skin, slowly growing outward, already a part of him.

Warm tears of pain streaked down his face in thick lines as the skin of his feet continued to be ripped apart, making way for more muscle, new flesh. He wiped at his eyes helplessly and thought he could hear Steve's voice distantly calling out his name, asking if everything was alright.

He blinked, his vision blurred by the tears that would not clear away as he pulled himself over to the stairway.

Shaking wildly all over, Billy stretched out on the floor, realizing belatedly that the waistband of his jeans was growing tighter and tighter. Hissing sharply, he cursed himself for not having the foresight to undress himself as he hastily tried to undo his belt. A pain similar to the initial agony he'd felt in his toes was beginning to manifest itself in his fingers as both of his hands slowly began to turn red, swelling up under the bonds of the rope as he fumbled with the buckle, desperately trying to get it to come free.

"Fuck!" he shouted in frustration, his clothing growing ever tighter as his body continued to bloat. He felt like he was being pinched in half with his belt acting as an unneeded tourniquet. "Fuck! Fuck!"

"Hey! Talk to me Hargrove, what's going on?"

Steve's worried voice trilled down through the cellar doors as he continued vocalizing his frustrations. Billy felt an organ in his abdomen shift out of place before popping, prompting him to groan and curl in on himself before he threw up. His couldn't undo his belt as his vision began to darken.

"Hargrove!" Steve shouted, banging a fist against the steel door. "What the hell's going on? Talk to me!"

"Fuck you!" Billy screamed, unable to articulate anything else as he tried to rub the blackness out of his eyes, but the more he pressed his fingers to them, they more they began to hurt.

A pressure was building up behind them the more he rubbed, and as it increased, his vision grew ever darker. He kept blinking, over and over, feeling his eyes bulge out of their sockets and against his eyelids, trying now to keep his eyeballs in place. He was hyperventilating when he finally went blind, the pressure behind his eyes becoming intolerable eyes before it finally came too much, and his eyes popped free.

He felt them slide out onto over his checks and onto the floor, the slimy, blood-slick nerves leaving tracks of blood on his face as he became totally and completely blind.

"No," he whispered to himself, retching again on the floor as he scrambled across the cement, trying to find the stairs, unable to see. "No, no! This isn't real!"

Beyond the cellar doors, Steve had his ear pressed against the slight crack between the panels, desperately trying to understand what was going on. He wasn't sure what to make of the noises he was hearing, unable to determine if Billy was just trying to mess with him or if he was in actual distress.

"Hargrove," he said impatiently, turning his head to try and peak in through the crack to get a glimpse of what was going on, "you gotta start talking to me, man; what the hell's going on down there?"

"I'm fucking blind," he heard Billy shout, his voice rife with fear. "I can't see anything!"

His voice was shaking as he spoke, and Steve knew then that whatever was happening was legitimate; Billy wasn't one to openly show weakness.

"Okay, stay calm," Steve stammered, but he wasn't sure if that was actually sound advice or not. "It's- it's going to be okay, okay?"

Billy howled, and Steve understood that the pain that carried with his voice must have been terrible to get him to shriek like that. He licked his lips anxiously, not knowing what support he could possibly offer him. He continuously opened and shut his mouth, words of encouragement dying on his tongue before he could manage to speak them.

And then, all at once, the cacophony of agony ceased.

Steve couldn't hear anything over the rapid sound of his breathing for a moment before he finally spoke: "Hargrove? Is… are you okay?"

"Hurts." Billy's voice, quiet, strained, and barely audible over the sounds of things (flesh, fabric) slowly tearing, sounded disconcertingly like he was speaking with a throat full of water. It was gargling and grotesque; completely unlike the smooth, honeyed voice he'd become known for.

"Okay, what, uh, what… what hurts?" Steve whispered in response, fear quieting his previously urgent tone.

"Everything."

"Shit," Steve said to himself, backing away from the cellar door panels as the sounds of something large and heavy being knocked over made him jump. "Just, uh, stay calm," he said, though he wasn't sure if he was saying it to himself or Billy. From down below, he heard Billy groan loudly before going silent again.

Steve's heart was pounding as he hesitated, unsure of what to do. All the details of Billy's haphazardly concocted plan fled his mind as he tried to think back on what they'd agreed to do if something ended up happening, and his first instinct was to open the doors to go down and check on him. He looked at the chains wrapped tightly around the door handles and bit his lip before crouching down and pressing his eye to the crack.

The overhead light wasn't bright enough to reveal much, but at the base of the stairwell there was a small circle of illumination. Steve squinted, ignoring the cold of the steel as he pressed his face against the door, trying to see all that he could.

Blood stains. Torn bits of… something he couldn't quite make out. Dark masses on the stairwell; lots of evidence that pointed towards Billy transforming, but no trace of Billy himself.

"Hargrove," Steve whispered, and then shook his head to clear himself of his cowardice. "Hargrove," he said again, louder and with more emphasis, "dude, you have to talk me through what's happening down there."

He waited, unconsciously holding his breath as he waited for a reply. It was steadily growing darker as the sun slowly sank, making it all the harder to see into the cellar from the tiny slit. Frowning and unable to see anything, Steve turned his head and pressed his ear against the door. From somewhere in the depths of the cellar he could hear something breathing heavily. It was moving, too; he could hear something shuffling, moving around the floor space cautiously.

When he turned his head again to see through the crack, he caught a glimpse of... something large and hulking cross under the light, tall enough to set the lightbulb swinging. He couldn't help but suck in a sharp breath of air, his lungs and throat burning with the sting of the cold weather. The thing- whatever Billy had become- halted just outside the rim of light. Entranced, Steve found he couldn't move as it emitted a low, threatening growl that sounded more like a man impersonating a dog than an actual beast.

From his limited viewpoint, he couldn't see the way the muscles in its legs were tightening, or how it had begun to crouch; he didn't have time to react as it sprang forward, jumping up the stairs in a single leap to ram itself against the doors.

The chains held the doors shut, but the sudden impact smashed the metal against Steve's nose and soon all he could smell was blood as it drained out of his nostrils. He fell backwards, holding his nose as the Billy-creature growled again. Horrified, Steve could only sit in the snow and watch as the doors lurched forward when Billy rammed against them again, trying to escape. The second impact loosened the restraints, and all Steve could do in that moment was watch as they rattled uselessly in place, beginning to slip through the handles as they hadn't been properly locked into place.

Cursing to himself, staggered to his feet and rushed to grab the chains, but as Billy threw his body against the doors again it soon became obvious that even if the doors stayed shut, they were about to pop free of their hinges entirely. Blood dripped down over his lips and onto the metal panels as he tried to think of what he could possibly do to counteract the damage Billy had done. In an act of desperation, he threw himself against the steel and hoped that his added bodyweight would be enough to keep them in place.

If it managed to do anything, he couldn't tell. Almost immediately Billy was throwing himself against the doors again, nearly bucking Steve off.

"Stop!" Steve cried out, grasping for the chains to hold them in place. His fingers scrabbled against the cold steel links even as Billy let out another deep, throaty growl. With the doors as loose as they were, Steve was almost certain the doors wouldn't survive another body-slam. "Give it up, Hargrove!" Steve said again, desperately. "Just- fuck, Billy, stop!"

He braced himself for another impact, but it never came. Eyes closed in anticipation, Steve blinked them open and exhaled shakily, his fingers trembling as he let the chains go. Crystalized air puffed out in front of his face over and over as he rolled off the doors and stood up unsteadily, trying to wipe away the blood that had already frozen over and turned to crust on his upper lip. Somehow, miraculously, his pleading had worked, but before he could take comfort in that fact, other disturbing sounds began to creep back up to him from down below.

Things were being tossed around; the metallic clang of old paint cans being bounced off the floors and walls mixed with the hoarse, angry vocalizations of the creature Billy had become made his blood run colder than the air currently was. The noises Billy was making were at once both animalistic and human, deep and throaty and more akin to the bellows of a moose than a man or wolf.

Steve stood in front of the cellar doors not knowing what to do. Already their plan was falling apart, and he was quickly becoming aware of how vastly unprepared he was to handle the situation. He wanted the security of the bat in his trunk, but didn't trust himself to leave the doors unattended for the length of time it would take him to run back inside and grab his keys to get it, but he felt so weak without it.

Another loud, crashing noise came from within and Steve stilled, listening intently. Faintly, he could hear Billy snuffling about, and after the sun finally completely descended, all was quiet. His nose was throbbing as he stood attentively, but when nothing more could be heard, his stomach sank.

With trembling hands and his mind screaming at him to stop, he knelt by the doors and slowly unwound the chains from the handles. The fact that he couldn't hear anything coming from within didn't sit well with him; he had to make sure Billy was still down there.

He tried to shift the chains as quietly as possible, but with how nervous he was, he had a hard time keeping his hands steady. They rattled noisily against the door, grating on his already frazzled nerves as they slid free. Heart pounding madly, Steve carefully pulled the doors open and took the first step down into the cellar.

It was silent. He couldn't hear anything as he hesitantly took a second step, mentally berating himself over and over for being stupid enough to walk defenseless into the lion's mouth. He had no idea what Billy was capable of now, or if he'd even recognize him enough to (hopefully) have enough sense to not harm him. The lightbulb that dangled freely from the ceiling was swaying, throwing its light around erratically, showing him glimpses of the gore that lined the steps.

Eyes wide, Steve gagged at the sight of the flayed strips of bloodied skin that were splattered near everywhere. He had to avert his eyes as he took another step, making slow progress as he was careful not to step in any of the mess. At the bottom of the stairs he warily peered around the walls, hoping he'd only stuck his head into the lion's mouth figuratively. To his immediate relief, but long-term dismay, there was no trace of Billy to be seen in the space of the cellar.

Exhaling deeply, Steve tried to even out his breathing as he came to stand in the middle of the room, looking around to assess the damage. As the swinging lightbulb steadied, he turned towards where the shelf that was hiding the tunnel had been and found it on the ground, knocked to its side and several feet away from where it had originally been positioned. His shoulders drooped at the realization of Billy's escape.

He went and stood before the opening of the tunnel and felt all hope of remedying the situation vanish. A numbness overtook him as he recognized his responsibilities of keeping Billy captive had changed; he was the only one who knew about Billy's circumstances, and he was the only one who could do anything about it now. Distantly, and much further away then he would've liked, he could hear the muted, labored sounds of Billy's breathing as he escaped confinement through the underground system.

The burden of his responsibilities threatened to overwhelm him in that instant, but instead of letting himself be overtaken by despair, Steve took a deep, steadying breath and rolled his shoulders back. He hesitated for only a minute before he took charge and ran in after him, disregarding his urgent need to turn back and get his bat out of the car. There was no time, he thought; no time to get a weapon, no time to get a flashlight. If Billy was now as the werewolf in the woods was, then he was capable of speeds greater than Steve could muster, and every second mattered. If he lost his trail now, then it would be lost to him entirely. There was no time; he had to go now or he wouldn't go at all.

Alone and unarmed Steve ran, chasing after Billy into the dark, cold tunnel, hoping he would be able to catch him in time, and dreading the repercussions that would come if he couldn't.

[whatisitnowforfuckssake]

Am I weird for being different? Im a 15 year old girl. Ive been watching anime for about 6 years. Im into death metal, rock, and rap. not pop and dubstep like normal people. I tend to be an outcast because i like anime and i've never had a boyfriend, unlike my "friends". Some 13 year olds at my school are pregnant and have done drugs.I cant ever seem to find someone who likes the same things as me. I like to dress in black and my hair is very short and some people call me emo.

A lot of human psychology can be summarised by two opposing forces: we are self-determining rational agents who insist on forging independent identities while simultaneously being a social species who necessarily must mitigate various parts of our (physical and mental) selves in order to fit into a group, or be seen as part of various cultural, political or social movements. This works on the smallest micro level of your individual decision-making and the macro level of wars between countries. The conflict between these two forces causes a lot of problems in the human mind.

So:

1. There are no “normal people”.

Everyone has some thoughts or desires or qualities that separate him from the majority of humans. Some of them choose to not make these differences known publicly, and others might not even be aware that it counts as a difference.

2. Wanting to be “normal” is boring.

In other words, aiming to achieve membership of the non-existent “normal people” is boring. There’s nothing “wrong” with wanting to be normal. Some people who are thrust into very exciting (or unpleasant) situations crave boring lives, and that’s fine too. But it’s still boring.

3. You are not alone.

It sounds trite, but no matter how crazy you think you are, there’s always someone crazier than you. And no matter what kind of “weird” stuff you’re into, there is someone out there who loves all that stuff and more. In your particular case, lots of people like anime and lots of girls your age don’t have boyfriends.

I’m a 42-year-old white guy living in Ireland. I think the greatest television show ever made (possibly) is a Canadian show called The Newsroom. Not the American show with Jeff Daniels; a different, smaller show that CBC put on their network in the 1990s. No one I have ever met (including a few Canadians!) has ever heard of it.

I am still convinced that there are other people in the world who have not only seen it, but think it’s as great as it obviously is. The point of this bit is to let you know that sometimes the search continues, and that’s fine too.

4. Put your hair any way you like.

Listen to whatever music you like. No one who matters will care. No one who matters will care.

5. Go to college.

I’m trying not to sound elitist here, but when you go to college, you will meet all sorts of different people and be exposed to all sorts of different ideas and you’ll probably feel a lot more at home. Because universities are full of “individuals”, they tend to be a lot less judgy than small towns in Kentucky. I had some shameful opinions about homosexuals and even Protestants (!) before I went to university. Also, you’ll get an “education” or whatever.

6. Engage creatively with the world.

Learn music, get into a band, make some noise in someone’s garage. Learn to draw, figure out how those animation programs work and make your own anime. 

“I can’t do that." 

YES YOU CAN! 

Write some stories, poems, song lyrics. You are a 15-year-old girl! You are supposed to be full of passion and energy and you’re in that bracket of human who might be the only bracket to ever really "get” what love means. (If you don’t love like a 15-year-old girl, you’re doing it wrong.) Take all that passion and energy and make something! Then share it, on Facebook, on YouTube, on tumblr, look everyone, this is what I did! 

I AM FUCKING AMAZING!

What did you do today, 15-year-old girl?

“I wrote a poem, a broke an amp, I made up an entire world of people living in post-apocalyptic Tokyo and here is what it looks like. I AM FUCKING AMAZING!”

Yes you are, 15-year-old girl. I will reluctantly concede that you are fucking amazing.

[hesthekingofsomewhere]

Yet Another Chatfic pt 5

part 1 I 2 I 3 I 4

this is a long chapter! and im posting it ahead of schedule! bc I love yall!

please leave comments! likes! I love feedback!

Also! this chapter has a peek into sarah, finch, and alberts groupchat

Queens of New York

8:15

santagay: say yeet if you made it home alive

DJacobs: Yeet!

SJ420: yeet

richbitch: yeet

Spot8365631: yeet

respecs: yeet

albiehadalittlelamb: yeet

WhereforeArtThou: yeet

noteventhatshort: yeet

SJ420: wheres finchy boy?

littlebirdie: still at their apt

littlebirdie: oh right

littlebirdie added crispycrutch to Queens of New York

PM with albiehadalittlelamb

santagay: al, finch slept over

albiehadalittlelamb: yeah ik?

santagay: i hate to say this and be that guy, but al, he slept in crutchies room

santagay: ik whats its like to be cheated on, and i never thought i would be having this conversation about finch but I dont want you to get hurt.

albiehadalittlelamb: ill ask finch, im sure nothing happened

PM with littlebirdie

albiehadalittlelamb: did my fake bf cheat on me?

littlebirdie: …

albiehadalittlelamb: GET SOME BOIII

littlebirdie: lmao so your not mad?

albiehadalittlelamb: why would I be mad? even if we were dating id be chill about this, ik you have a huge thing for crutchie and lord knows youd never get any action from me

albiehadalittlelamb: the only problem is that jack thinks your cheating on me

littlefinch: ok so should we fake-break up? cuz i kind of dont want to, but if jack thinks im cheating on you…

albiehadlittlelamb: i have a plan

albiehadalittlelamb: does crutchie know that were fake dating?

littlebirdie: ye, theres no way i would even be allowed into his room if we were actually dating

albiehadalittlelamb: ok but heres the thing, if jack thinks you cheated on me, then race probably thinks the same

littlebirdie: oooHHHHHH

littlebirdie: so now im also fake cheating on you so that race will feel bad and fall for you and your sad situation

albiehadalittlebird: exactly!

littlebirdie: nice! what could possibly go wrong

Queens of New York

respecs: so why is this chat called queens of new york

inyourFACEtrack: well you see…

inyourFACEtrack: twas all hallows eve 2017

inyourFACEtrack: and 7 of us showed up to kaths halloween as drag queens completely independantly

noteventhatshort: and sarah kath jack and i were dressed as disney princesses

respecs: thats beautiful

respecs: and here i thought it was bc ?everyone? here is lbgtq

santagay: well if you think about it, its both

richbitch: when was the last time we even had a straight in this chat?

crispycrutch: i think  we had morris in the chat for a week when he was dating romeo

santagay: oh god i forgot about that

SJ420: does he even count as a straight?

inyourFACEtrack: well there was a reason he was only in the chat for a week so…

santagay: true, speaking of which

santagay: specs, if you ever hurt romeo, we will find out where you live and steal all of you soap lest you ever get a date again

respecs: noted?

SJ420: he gave me the same threat when I started dating kath lmao

santagay: it worked didnt it?

SJ420: im hate you

santagay: you loved me once loser

WhereforeArtThou: oh shit he went there

inyourFACEtrack: oooooooooooo

crispycrutch: ??????

SJ420: once upon a time i thought i was a het, and then i dated jack for like 2 months

SJ420: and 90% of our relationship was checking out pretty girls together

SJ420: so i figured i should date those pretty girls

noteventhatshort: BIG MOOD

SJ420: for the record the other 10% of the relationship was jack checking out “cute” boys and me being like eh

santagay: and herre i thought you were just trying to stop me from being jealous

SJ420: jack at one point i kissed another girl in front of you and you did not care

noteventhatshort: AHHH

inyourFACEtrack: OOOF

richbitch: AN ICON

santagay: ok well

SJ420: don’t even try bud

DJacobs: That’s my sister!!!!!

santagay: but at least you didnt hide it

santagay: at least you werent kissing people behind my back like SOME people in this chat

SJ420: ????

Spot8365631: i thought you were over that

santagay: i am i just need to have moral high ground over someone

inyourFACEtrack: wait what

noteventhatshort: is this chat just stories of jack getting cheated on now?

richbitch: im living for this

richbitch: jack cant keep a man nor woman

noteventhatshort: but whats this about spot cheating on jack?

santagay: he BROKE my FRAGILE 15 y/o HEART

santagay: but spottie was too cool, lived too fast, couldnt be tied down to one man

Spot8365631: also david was a much better kisser

SJ420: OH SHIT PLOT TWIST

richbitch: CALLED OUT

inyourFACEtrack: 911? theres been a murder?

DJacobs: This…. is true.

inyourFACEtrack: THE LEGEND HIMSELF SPEAKS

respecs: i am living for the drama in this chat

crispycrutch: were kind of a mess tbh

respecs: i understand and completely respect that

inyourFACEtrack: you reSPECt that?

respecs: haha very funny not like thats my goddamn username or anything

Spot8365631: roasted

inyourFACEtrack: bitch

inyourFACEtrack: YO JACK ROMEO, GOT MY MFN 29TH

santagay: fuck offfffff

WhereforeArtThou: this bet is unfair

WhereforeArtThou: im only attracted to one gender, thats less than half the people to ask

santagay: dude ur still winning

WhereforeArtThou: yeah but its a lot more work

inyourFACEtrack: i only have 1 girls number, i think its p even

santagay: this seems like something you should have considered when we started

WhereforeArtThou: ok but consider this

WhereforeArtThou: i didnt

inyourFACEtrack: ok but consider this

inyourFACEtrack: ur a dumbass

WhereforeArtThou: strong words coming from a guy who threw a wii remote out the window

noteventhatshort: fight fight fight fight

inyourFACEtrack: my embarrassments are not ur entertainment smalls

noteventhatshort: ur embarrassments are my only entertainment what r u talking about

Spot8365631: also everything you do is embarrassing

inyouFACEtrack: i feel betrayed

santagay: you should

santagay: i once saw u put hot chocolate mix in oj

inyourFACEtrack: it tastes like a terrys chocolate orange i stand by my choices

crispycrutch: you snorted mr noodles seasoning bc spot told you to

inyourFACEtrack: and i got 20$ for it

Spot8365631: u didnt “””get”””” 20$ ur debt to me was just slightly reduced

inyourFACEtrack: EITHER WAY

crispycrutch: once i watched u drop a spoon into a pot of boiling water and stick ur hand in to get it

inyourFACEtrack: i think ur point has been made, thnk u crutchie

Spot8365631: please do not stop, hes had it coming

crispycrutch: i will stop only bc i value my safety and so i still have receipts for the future

inyourFACEtrack: oh god

inyourFACEtrack: why did i think it was a good idea to live with you

crispycrutch: bc you love me and i contribute to the rent

inyourFACEtrack: touche

crispycrutch: besides, i would have dirt on you regardless

crispycrutch: i have seen each and every one of you do stupid stuff, no one is safe

inyourFACEtrack: mooooom crutchies being meannnn

DJacobs: Crutchie, please delete your blackmail.

crispycrutch: how can i delete it when its in my brain

santagay: i have never been more scared of crutchie

SJ420: crutchie is my idol

crispycrutch: that does not make you safe my friend

SJ420: honestly at this point you could reveal anything about me and i would not care

SJ420: i have reached a god status where nothing you say could possibly embarrass me

richbitch: im so in love with you

SJ420: love you too babe

PM with SJ420

richbitch: ik youre in the next room but i dont want dave to hear, but I got a dinner reservation for two tomorrow at 7 and was wondering if you would like to join me

SJ420: i mean of course, but why are you asking me like this

richbitch: because

richbitch: also you should wear that dress you got for christmas

SJ420: ok?

More Than Just Cigars

SJ420: kath is acting weird

albiehadalittlelamb: what kind of weird

albiehadalittlelamb: like “i just lost a lot of money” weird

albiehadalittlelamb: “i just took a bunch of acid” weird?

littlebirdie: oh no is it “i just slept with jack” weird?!

SJ420: oh god no

SJ420: she texted me and asked me on a date

SJ420: i asked her why and she said because

littlebirdie: !!!!!!!!!

littlebirdie: DID SHE ASK YOU TO WEAR SOMETHING SPECIFIC

SJ420: ye, a dress from christmas

albiehadalittlelamb: OH MYYYYY GODDDDDDDD

littlebirdie: GIRL

SJ420: what????

littlebirdie: jfc ur blind

albiehadalittlelamb: if u havent caught on yet we cant morally help u srry

SJ420: GUYS PLEASE

littlebirdie: nope

albiehadalittlelamb: have fun on ur date tho

PM with santagay

albiehadalittlelamb: oh yeah finch did not, in fact cheat on me

albiehadalittlelamb: he was just making up with crutchie last night, they had a fight

santagay: and u trust finch in this

albiehadalittlelamb: ofc, ive known finch a long time, he would never

santagay: ok if you insist, i just dont want you to get hurt

albiehadalittlelamb: thanks jack

Queens of New York

littlebirdie: anyone else just, super glad that theyre gay?

littlebirdie: bc thats such an important feeling

DJacobs: Me too, Finch

Spot8365631: rt

SJ420: rt

noteventhatshort: rt

WhereforeArtThou: rt

albiehadalittlelamb: rt

santagay: rt but bi

inyourFACEtrack: rt but bi

richbitch: rt but bi

respecs: rt but bi

crispycrutch: rt but pan

littlebirdie has changed Queens of New York to Queers of New York

inyourFACEtrack: helllllll yeah

Spot8365631: no cussing, my mom checks my phone

inyourFACEtrack: oh my goodness im so sorry spot

inyourFACEtrack: ill delete the message right away

DJacobs: What?

DJacobs: Why does your mom check your messages, Spot?

DJacobs: You’re 23 and moved out?

DJacobs: Also I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you swear in this chat.

DJacobs: This is a meme, isn’t it?

santagay: u got there on ur own!

santagay: im so proud of u!

DJacobs: Thank you, Jack.

inyourFACEtrack: why does it feel like everyone is in loving and healthy relationships except me?

PM with inyourFACEtrack

Spot8365631: wow rude

inyourFACEtrack: were not in a relationship remember?

Queers of New York

DJacobs: Jack and I are not dating.

santagay: dude, were mom and dad, i think that’s close enough

respecs: question, in this mom/dad thing, who is everyone else

santagay: kath and sarah are the aunts obvi

inyourFACEtrack: smalls, romeo, crutchie, al, and i are their kids

inyourFACEtrack: finch used to be one of the kids but now hes dating al so that seems weird

inyourFACEtrack: i guess hes sarahs kid now?

SJ420: awwww i love my new son

respecs: what about spot?

santagay: hes kind of… his own entity… like an estranged uncle or neighbor that spends more time in ur house than his own

Spot8365631: rude but accurate

santagay: thats my name dont wear it out

Spot8365631: i hate you sm

santagay: then y r u always in my house???

Spot8365631: this metaphor has gone to far. blocked deleted and unfollowed.

santagay: honestly? thats fair

santagay: i respect ur choices

Spot8365631: sounds fake but ok

PM with Spot8365631

inyourFACEtrack: in a beautiful twist of fate, crutchie jack are going to see a movie with davey and kath, and im home alone with a meat lovers pizza on its way

Spot8365631: ok?

inyourFACEtrack: would you care to join me?

Spot8365631: no, sounds too much like a date, and were not in a relationship right?

inyourFACEtrack: dude, were friends, sharing a pizza, and maybe having anal sex

inyourFACEtrack: thats not a date its just what we do

Spot8365631: still no, i have to finish a foreign policy essay for tomorrow

inyourFACEtrack: oh ok

[shogetsus]

Stripes of Auburn, Eye of Sapphire

Prologue Pt. IV

Read on Ao3 | Read on FFN |  Masterlist

Summary:  Her annoyance tones down several levels at the sound of genuine laughter, coming from the second man accompanying Hideyoshi. It’s musical and warm but just so, exactly like… spring, too tempting to join in the mirth. That, and as well as turning it impossible for Mai not to turn her eyes to the source, briefly abandoning her desperate search for Sasuke.

And for some reason, her heart seems to do a dramatic double flip when she finds it.

“So… you’re Mai? A stalwart lass, indeed,” The first detail she notices in him are some incredible eyes—or best to say, eye in singular, an eyepatch sadly covering the other—gleaming in hues of sapphire blue, almost taking her breath away with its enrapturing beauty.

If he hasn’t already with that heartwarming laughter, that is.

Mai

The ninja before her tilts his head, a brief but hopeful smile crossing his face. “You recognize me now?” He wonders tentatively.

Mai’s eyes almost bulge out of its sockets.

The man’s glasses glint as a thunder breaks through, giving her a somewhat worried once-over. “Are you alright? You have an umbrella?” His serious expression doesn’t waver, yet he seems as polite as for asking.

Her knees feel like giving up once again, “You’re the med school student at the Honno-ji monument!” Mai cries, shocked to the core, an avalanche of questions rising before she can stop them.

That sheepish smile widens, though, sighing softly. “Um, post-graduate in physics, not medicine. But I’m so glad you remember me,” The relief in his face seems like the most genuine she’s seen so far, while trapped in that too livid nightmare, “That makes things much easier.”

Slowly yet surely, her face brightens. “So you ended up in the past too!” But if that guy was truly relieved, oh boy, he definitely has no idea how much weight he’d just pulled off her shoulders, suddenly feeling like hugging him for dear life.

I’m not really alone in here, thank the heavens!

The sight of his clothes and overall getup are a mystery, though. “Um, I’ll say it’s weird seeing you as a ninja,”

He snorts softly, understanding her confusion. “It’s better if I start from the beginning. My name is Sasuke,” He begins to explain what truly happened ever since they encountered in the future—or their present time, as he insists in remarking—while walking together through the woods, the whole recount making Mai’s head spin.

Sitting down on a tree stump, she just hears him out. According to him, the sudden thunderstorm and that lightning bolt that’d shattered the Honno-ji stone monument was product of an unnatural event, which caused a warp between space and time and sent the two of them to the timeline they’re currently living on.

“Or well, that’s a very simplified and condensed version of my theory,” Sasuke excuses himself for the possible vague summary, adjusting his glasses once in a while, “Given we both encountered the same wormhole, we appear to be in the same timeline. But despite having entered at the same time, I ended up arriving four years prior to you,” A brief wince crosses his face.

Mai gapes at him, “Four years!?” She quickly closes her mouth, thoughts running wild, “Now that you say that, it explains a several lot,” She points out, gesturing vaguely at his figure.  

Sasuke nods, “However, in these years, I’ve learned that this period, the Sengoku, and Japan’s civil war is quite different than the one we’re familiar with.” That addition makes her quirk a brow.

More different than how it is now? Is that for other reason than me saving Nobunaga? This is becoming a weird science fiction drama and I don’t like it one bit!

She swallows her questions for a moment, allowing him to keep explaining. According to Sasuke and just like how it’d happened to Nobunaga and her, he has arrived at the date of Kenshin Uesugi’s historical death instead. However, Sasuke’s quick thinking and knowledge of modern medicine had ensured Kenshin’s survival—leaving him, as well as Nobunaga in the current moment, also alive. But they weren’t the only ones.

The marvelous creature crafted by the very gods, Shingen Takeda, was supposed to have died by the current time as well. But for some reason—in which Sasuke insisted he hasn’t been involved with—he was still around when he shouldn’t be.

“I can’t believe it,” Mai holds her chest, trying to process everything as best as she can. “The one single time I act up out of my interests at heart and just thinking in another person’s survival, I screw that up. And now we… we changed the past?”

“Well, to a degree, yeah.” At least Sasuke doesn’t feel like lying to her face, regardless of how awful it must be for him to say it. “What I can assume from this is that we’re in an alternate Sengoku period, not the one we know from school.” She can tell by the look of his face that news can be either hopeful or absolutely devastating, but turns out, there’s not really a way to know for the current moment. “Because of these fluctuations in space-time we’re in one of most possibly many divergent timelines, one in which history will take a different course.”

She feels her head spinning—time travel, alternate history, divergent timelines. It actually sounds like science fiction.

“As a matter of fact, I major in theoretical astrophysics at Kyoto University, specializing in wormholes and their potential for time travel.” Sasuke goes on, a different glint on his eyes. This probably must be his ultimate dream, to some degree, then. “I’d conceived a method for predicting the conditions for patterns by which traversable wormholes manifest. That’s why I was at the stone monument that day.” He frowns a little, “To verify my method.”

Well, if she’d previously thought the people in this time were definitely something out of this world, Mai truly has to reconsider that—she’s having a conversation with a guy who can predict wormholes, and from her present time. Things just keep going crazier and crazier, it seems like.

“I’ve been looking for you here, though. Given how it happened, I expected you must have traveled back in time as I did.” There’s when he gets somewhat grim, “But… I hadn’t conceived the possibility you’d arrive four years later.”

Oh, dear. The passing comment makes her feel guilty—the guy has already spent four years completely alone in that crazy timeline, and she was already losing her mind for being around just some mere hours. “So… all things considered, this certainly doesn’t look out to be a dream. Wow.”

“I suppose you could say it’s a dream for me,” A sheepish smile clings to his face, confirming her past assumptions, “I get to see the famous people of the Sengoku era with my own eyes.”

“Yeah, you’re strangely chipper about this,” Mai feels inclined to admit out in the open, sharing his smile regardless.

“Well, my parents were history buffs. I actually got my name from the legendary ninja who served Yukimura Sanada,” There’s a proud gleam in his eyes as he comments on it, as well as some obvious homesickness. “I’ve figured out to take his ‘place’ in this world as Sasuke Sarutobi. That would help to keep my historical impact low to some degree.”

Mai nods in admission, “And were your parents well versed in martial arts, too?” She wouldn’t be surprised if they were—that is still a skill worth learning about in their present time, after all, and even she’s somewhat skilled in some. “Or is this ninja getup you’ve got something you picked up while you were here?”

“Oh, no, I studied that here. It seemed useful to pick up a marketable vocation.” He shrugs it off, not giving it much importance. However, considering the guy went from astrophysicist to ninja, Mai can’t help but blink at his frighteningly quick skills for adaptation.

Although she isn’t really scared of her one closest thing of an ally in that world, so Mai shakes off her shock as fast as it comes. Besides, putting aside her natural surprise over that fact, she won’t lie and not admit the guy is pretty much a handicap and quite resourceful, all things considered.

He outstretches a hand to help her haul to her feet, “Right now, I’m employed with that man you saw earlier…” His glasses glint once again just slightly, his face brightening with an idea, “You should come with me! I can assure you I’ll find a way to return us both to the present time.”

Despite being an odd one, Mai has no doubts he’s her best shot for getting back home. And truth is, sticking with a guy who truly knows the situation she’s in may increase her chances for survival to several degrees up. Yup, definitely my best card to play.

“Why, you bet I’m going—“ Her reassurance dies fast on her lips as another voice rushes on through the woods, startling them both.

“Mai, where are you?”

She freezes in her spot. That one belongs to one of Nobunaga’s men, that’s for sure, but recognizing it doesn’t stop her blood from running cold. Could it be Hideyoshi?

“Mai! Come out already!”

At the sound of approaching horses, Sasuke grows grim. But before Mai can come up with another word, in the blink of an eye he’s gone and out of her sight, slipping into the shadows of the forest. No, Sasuke! Don’t leave me alone now that I found you! What about our plan?

However, before she has any chance to follow him, two men on horseback are quicker to arrive and get to her. Indeed, one of them is Hideyoshi.

“I searched the whole forest for you,” He deadpans, although putting up his best neutral smile, so Mai can’t tell if he’s upset or not.

Mai frowns, deep down not wishing to put up a fight, but it’s not like she’s in the mood to be sympathetic. “Well, I didn’t ask you to, have I?” And to make it worse, he’d just driven off her only ticket home.

Hideyoshi gapes for a brief moment, “How insolent you can get?” He frowns back, staring at her as if not possibly believing her defiant manners, his horse quick to block the one possible way for her to run away, “Hiding from Lord Nobunaga for no reason whatsoever and—“

“Why, ‘no reason’?” Mai can’t really tell if Sasuke’s still around, but best she can make of is buy herself some time. Besides, the guy already got on her nerves, “He asked me to conquer the world with him and clearly didn’t look like he was going to take a no for an answer!”

“That is no way to—!”

However, her annoyance tones down several levels at the sound of genuine laughter, coming from the second man accompanying Hideyoshi. It’s musical and warm but just so, exactly like… spring, too tempting to join in the mirth. That, and as well as turning it impossible for Mai not to turn her eyes to the source, briefly abandoning her desperate search for Sasuke.

And for some reason, her heart seems to do a dramatic double flip when she finds it.

“So… you’re Mai? A stalwart lass, indeed,” The first detail she notices in him are some incredible eyes—or best to say, eye in singular, an eyepatch sadly covering the other—gleaming in hues of sapphire blue, almost taking her breath away with its enrapturing beauty.

If he hasn’t already with that heartwarming laughter, that is.

“I’ve no doubts you’re the woman who defied Lord Nobunaga.” Her face grows hot as she feels the way the man’s single eye roams over her, heartbeat pounding on her ears. Regardless, Mai does her best to keep her composure.

“And you are? Someone else I’m supposed to recognize?” Her voice unconsciously shifts into flirty levels and she slaps herself inwardly.

Where did that come from? Oh well, at least I haven’t put up on a pathetic show as I did with… what was his name, now?

But she can’t keep going with that train of thought as the second most incredibly handsome man she’s ever met reaches down for her. “I’d be terribly pleased if you did, but now’s not the best time to talk...”

And just like that, he effortlessly—and so much as literally—sweeps her up her feet, placing her on his horse. Tucked snugly against his chest, Mai has the ultimate blessing of the first view of that charming, bossy smile plastered all over his face. For all intents and purposes, she can’t possibly bring herself to move an inch or even breathe when he leans closer and into her personal space, bangs brushing her forehead and hot breath gracing her ear.

“Masamune Date,” He whispers so seductively Mai feels about to pass out. “Remember it… Mai.”

The way her name rolls on his lips, oh isn’t he a gift from the very gods. She genuinely has no idea how she manages to stay up that horse but most definitely her brain goes into short-circuiting at the mere sound of it.

Right, he’s the One-Eyed Dragon, then. She recalls the name from the magazine, but really, if she’d been swooning over the pictures of him, as a matter of fact, those didn’t make justice in the slightest in comparison to the real deal.

Hideyoshi is, of course, the one to break her from that rapturing spell made by Masamune’s smug smile. “Masamune is head of the noble Date clan of Oshu. He’s also allied with Lord Nobunaga, so show some respect.”

Why, if Hideyoshi is actually trying to impress me with those unnecessary bits of trivia, I’ve got news for him.

But with him as an odd third wheel, Mai doesn’t feel like staying up on that horse anymore, suddenly finding the situation uncomfortable enough for her liking. “Well, thank you both for the introduction, but I find these manhandling manners quite a bit rude. Could I be put down now?”

“Settle down. You’ll spook the horse.” He brushes off her complaint, an arm snaking its way around her waist. She can’t really blame Masamune for not sounding convincing enough, chuckling low a moment later; his mirth rumbling down her back and doing very funny things to her insides.

She has to clear her throat to regain her voice. “A-and don’t I matter? I’m, uh, pretty spooked too.” As a matter of fact, she’s very much the opposite of it, but hell will rain upon them before she shows that to the already insufferable Hideyoshi.

His smirk widens, amused to the core, and there’s a certain glint in that alluring eye of his that seems to catch up with something she doesn’t. “Hmm, come to think of it, you do look a little spooked…” Whatever his odd reasoning is, it doesn’t seem to stop him from urging his horse forward with a snap on the reins, startling Mai.

“Masamune…” Hideyoshi growls in warning, but doesn’t seem to be following them right away. And thank the gods for that! “Just… don’t lose her.”

“Hah, as if!” The horse quickly breaks into a run after a second snap of the reins, “Hold on tight, Mai.” She knows she should be protesting or insisting to some form to be put down, but with the mention of her name coming from Masamune, her brain just ends up lost for any words whatsoever.

The truth is, nothing in the world could have possibly prepared her for Masamune’s insanely wild horse riding, prompting Mai to cling tightly to his armor for dear life. Her first choked cries only seem to make him spur his horse faster, his laughter resonating all around them, almost inviting her to join in the gleeful moment.

“That’s okay, you won’t fall off,” As amusing as he may find the situation—judging by the mirth in his voice—Mai can hardly share his excitement as of then, too stressed for her own good and barely able to pry her fingers off his shoulder out of mere politeness. Luckily he doesn’t complain about how she’s been practically clutching him. “I think we’ve lost Hideyoshi as well. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

That comment prompts her curiosity, sheepishly glancing past Masamune’s shoulder, but barely peeking out. “Oh, thank heavens, he is…” She sighs in sheer relief, a lot of her tension thankfully slipping away, if unconsciously.

So he noticed that, huh. That realization makes Mai grow several degrees more comfortable around him, at least for the further moment. Besides, Masamune Date may at first seem quite cocky and a massive flirt—not to mention more than aware of his ravishingly handsome looks, but she wouldn’t blame him for using that to his advantage. Either way, and for all intents and purposes, he definitely he doesn’t strike her as mean or wicked like some other warlords she’s met so far.

Predicting it’s so far looking up to being a long ride, Mai opts out for giving him a vote of confidence, relaxing some more in his arms and tiredly resting her head in the crook of his neck, where he’s not as heavily armored. For reasons beyond her, Masamune keeps chuckling low, apparently pleased with himself.

“So, let me guess,” His constant amusement slowly gets into her, and Mai can’t bring herself to complain about it, “Are you just hired to steal away damsels in distress for Nobunaga or is it you didn’t have anything better to do?”

There’s no doubt of it right then—he’s definitely pleased with himself. “I’d say it’s one of the best perks of the job, yeah,” He says cockily, his air of self-assurance nearly dripping out of him, the warmth of his voice all the more helpful for her to relax. “However, that purring doesn’t really sound like one from someone in distress…”

Mai snorts, “Don’t tease me. I’m just tired, alright,” She’s willing to admit, giving up for any possible ideas of escaping his grasp and wiggling a little for better accommodation. If it’s going to be as long of a ride as it looks like, then she may as well get somewhat comfortable. “I’m just coming along from certainly the worst night of my life, and considering where you’re taking me, seems this nightmare isn’t looking forward to ending anytime soon…”

“Well, if you ask me, I think it’s going to be really fun instead,” His snickering briefly tickles her ear, the arm snaked around her waist pulling her closer to his chest. Mai just relishes in his warmth, too exhausted to put up a fight. “But get some sleep now if you’re truly tired. It is a long ride, after all…”

“And risk myself falling off your horse? Thanks, but no thanks,” Although even when she says that, Mai can also hear her own voice growing heavy and groggy.

“Aaw, how could I possibly let that happen? You wound me, kitten,” Brushing some locks of hair away from her face, Masamune leans down and closer, hot breath fanning her ear, “Luckily for you, I don’t mind some scratches…”

Mai giggles and squirms a little, both for the tickling sensation and the ever so alluring tone of his voice. She can’t really tell, but if Masamune’s main goal was to get her all putty in his arms, then she hopes he’d consider that a success already.

And so, she finally complies, drawing a long sigh before dropping her eyes closed as they ride on full speed ahead through the night, with only the wind catching up with them.

[softboywriting]

Y’all need to know something that’s going on with me right now. I’m making this post in your best interest because I feel like it’s important that other writers and bloggers who follow me should know. If you follow or contact the user ironfurycollector, they are not an honest person and faked their own death to me. 

Okay so I started talking to her in September and it was great. both Shawn fans and she loved my fics. we exchanged a few pics, and we talked about our lives a little bit from time to time. but i started to wonder why she never posted anything on her blog, only liked everything. no big deal. some people just dont reblog a lot. 

then there was some outtake pics she bought that she was gonna email to me and when she sent them they were from her ‘brother’s email. she said something about hers being hacked a while back. now the question is, why not just make a new one? it takes ten seconds. (this email fiasco can be backed up by another trusted friend, more to come on this.) 

it was a red flag but i ignored it and moved on. we talked more and more about shawn and my fics. (side note: some time in December she sent me a pic that her friend recently took but she was in a hoodie and a puffy coat, it’s dead ass summer in AUS rn. NOT coat weather. i mentioned this in the chat but she just moved on to another topic) but then i started getting really suspicious after she entered this relationship with her brother’s best friend. see, it was too perfect, too ‘fic’ like but i just went with it cuz it was interesting and maybe he was this good and i was a sucker for it.

but then it just got over the top. the stories, the details, it just was too much for a first time relationship and the guy/her being only 18-19 years old. 

so at one point he supposedly left a little scavenger hunt of notes around her place when she fell asleep and he had to leave. this was only a week or two into their relationship. pretty unbelievable. so then shes sending me pics of the little riddle notes for her scavenger hunt and the handwriting changed half way thru. also, one of the pics there was a guy’s leg in the pic. and she lied to me and said it was a fake one her brother pranked her with on Halloween. well. i called her on that, asking for a pic of it and she fessed up to lying saying ‘she was embarrassed cuz she couldn't figure out the clues and she had her friend Bradley come over to help her’. which, honestly sure i’d buy but why lie? and how fast did he get there? smells fishy.

moving on. i was confused cuz she said her friend was named Bradley. well. that was also the name on the ‘brother’s email’ she was using. i called her on this. she said they are both Bradley and she calls her brother B. I was iffy. What are the chances. Honestly. 

At this time i called her out and told her i thought she was cat fishing me. and asked to see a pic of her with the notes from the scavenger hunt. which she took forever to send a pic, making up the excuse of being in the bathroom, and they getting dressed but finally did. it appeared she was holding the notes but idk tbh. (in all her pics shes sent it’s clearly the same girl)

Fast forward and she has this wild weekend with her now boyfriend/ brother’s best friend. like so much sex. it’s literally impossible how long they supposedly went and how many times her boyfriend supposedly came. it was just too wild and for her claiming to be a virgin, it was too much and he, being a supposedly 18yr old was way too experienced sounding. seriously. it was like a fic.

so like i asked for a pic of her boyfriend cuz supposedly he’s so shawn like and shit and all i’ve seen was this one generic pic of him (god knows where that came from) and she can’t get any on facebook and blah blah. now i asked several times for pics of this boy (shes with him all the time) but she always had an excuse. always. 

at this point im just so suspicious she’s lying about everything. now her boyfriend is going off for a sports camp thing for a month in the US. shes sad. okay. but then about two days later she says she has some family drama and won’t be available for a few days. im like okay. shit happens.sure. 

she tells her best friend ‘Bradley’ to message me on tumblr so i wouldn’t be lonely. so he had to make a tumblr cuz ‘he just used hers to read your fic’. so im like okay sure. well. while i talked to him i noticed he speaks, types, has the same exact quirks as her. i mean so specifically the same. i use lmao a lot, too much perhaps. and she started using it too cuz we talked all the time, you pick things up from people. but for this guy, whom ive never spoken with and i assume would have their own quirks and way of speaking, to be the exact same is super fishy to me. 

so a few days later she texts me (i have her cell # and have since just after the boyfriend thing started) and shes like saying that she’s not in AUS anymore and that her boyfriend just COULDNT be with out her and paid for a flight to come stay with him for a week in the US while he’s doing his sport thing. Not sure where an 18 year old boy gets money like that let alone how she was staying with him, specially if he was on an exchange program for a school function. red flag. im suspicious. 

so then she says ‘oh its so boring here all day with out him cuz hes at camp for sports” and im like thinking well....you could text me all day or message me on tumblr but you don’t? doesn't make sense. so when i get a chance to talk to her, she says shes heading home soon. and i ask what the family drama was and she says something about her aunt. and i dont remember how it came up but i asked about her living situation back home. cuz previously she’d sent me stuff about living with a roommate but now she was saying she lived with her brother. so i asked. and she said she lives at home but her parents have been away for a while but they just came back and then there was drama with her aunt. like, what? that just didn’t make sense to me at all. she never mentioned moving or anything and always said she lived with her brother (never mentioned parents ever before and also where the fuck would they be for so long??). (also side note, when we first started talking she said she had a horse/pony and his name was Waffles i think and she loved him so much and was always out there with him. never ever heard about this again. ever.)

so here’s the point where i am just done with this and i have a bad feeling and i can’t ignore it anymore. she tells me her boyfriend will be back soon and i should go talk to Bradley about my concept i wanted to tell her about. i told her im not as comfortable talking to him about it cuz it’s not the same. she insists. and then...she calls him Larry. and im like what? who? and she tells me this story how that’s his nickname cuz her mom would call them that when she got mad when they were kids. (that makes no sense) and she called him that since he beat up some guy for her in high school (still makes no sense and now im absolutely done with this not adding up shit) also this whole time ‘Bradley’ hasn’t been on for a day or two. and suddenly as soon as i say goodbye to her. he’s suddenly online. Fishy.

I decide not to talk and i block him to see what happens. nothing happens. so now i decide to take this story to a friend on here who i trust a lot. she tells me to block her and see what happens. see if she notices. a day later and she’s supposed to be home from the US and back in AUS. i get a text, something about a car accident on the way home from the airport. I don’t respond. 

at this point my trusted friend mentions a user randomly contacting her and sending her outtakes in exchange for writing a oneshot a while back. and that the email was weird and ‘fishy’ and ‘from her brothers email.’ low and behold. it’s the same person i’ve been talking to. and she told my trusted friend that she got the pics ‘from her friend’ when she told me should bought them (with what money idk cuz they were expensive $80-$100 per sets and yet she was complaining about bring broke??) 

I go on with my blogging and writing. next day. she doesn't text me. another day and she sends something along the lines of “hope you’re okay i noticed you haven’t been active.” I don’t respond because I want to see if she notices I've blocked her and asks me about it. 

another day passes. 

I don’t get any messages about being blocked, or asking what’s going on or why can’t she see my tumblr, etc. Things that an actual person and normal friend would probably be sending texts about far more frequently than just one or two texts.

so then i get a text today from her cell that says this

which i don’t believe for one second. so i take it to my trusted friend. and she tells me that she has liked a few of her posts since last night. oh. really. blogging from the grave huh? So i ask my trusted friend to message her. to see if she replies. and low and behold:

I’m honestly pissed off and hurt. I called this person my friend. I grew to trust this person and share my days/stories/ideas with them. I have no idea how much is true of what she’s ever told me. I have no idea if she is a real person or another person pretending. But even if all the other stuff that I was iffy on and sent up red flags for me were somehow bizarre truths, this text is a lie. She faked her own death and I am calling her out on this. Because I won’t be friend with a person like this. And I highly suggest no one is because this is wrong and sick. 

[jj-ktae]

Fragrance IV : Leather

Title : Fragrances

Genre : Fluff, Angst, Romance

Pairing : Jaebum x Reader

Summary : You are a perfume composer, he is a lyricist, and while you’re left with too many possibilities, he is out of inspiration. Your only bond is an unknown fragrance.

- Teaser - Vetiver - Chypre - Fougère - Leather - Oud - Neroli - Gourmand - Ambergris -

Fragrance IV : Leather

A strong, smoky scent that stems from ingredients used to tan leathers—it’s usually used in fragrance with the help of synthetic chemicals.

Choi Youngjae’s smile is lunar. It’s illuminating his shy face in a way that makes you grin like an idiot. He is looking at Jaebum like he is a star and you finally understand how loved this guy is.

“I’m working on an album and I would love for us to work together on it.”  Jaebum doesn’t seem to like what he is hearing, and you and Bambam don’t know how to react so you look at each other before slowly moving away from the two. You don’t go that far though because Jaebum grabs your arm to keep you next to him. You see his pleading gaze and Bambam understands right away, moving away without you and you see your tiny glint of hope fade away from the awkward situation.

“I can’t.” Youngjae’s smile fades as soon as Jaebum speaks. He looks disappointed suddenly and you want to pet his hair and comfort his puppy state. “Why not? I know we don’t create the same music but your lyrics are wonderful and my agency needs some change in my artistic orientation.”

Jaebum snorts, his hand still around your forearm like you’re his only ally on earth. You don’t move nor speak, conscious that you can do nothing except being here and support him silently.

“This is why I can’t. I don’t write for the sake of a career. I’m sorry.” He pulls on your arm and you both walk away from a surprised Youngjae. Jaebum’s face is indecipherable. He grabs another glass of champagne on your way to the tiny balcony across the reception room, feet soft yet hurried against the hotel’s marble.

He stops to look outside and it’s like a fresh bowl of hair for him. You stay silent, waiting for him to let go of your arm and puzzled by how different he looks without the entrancing smell of his tortured being. You can’t stand the tension though, and if Jaebum is okay with staying quiet and watching the view like he is nostalgic of lost times, you pull on your arm, like a proof of your existence next to him.

He snaps his head toward you and the fingers around your forearm are gone in an instant. Jaebum is lost, right now.

“Are you okay?” You ask as carefully as you can. From what you know and observed ever since you met him, you can feel he is not okay with the sudden opportunity.

“No. I’m not okay.” His now free hand goes to his forehead before rubbing the skin, expressing his growing frustration. “I’m scared.”

You tilt your head, not surprised. “I can see that.” You wish you could be more of a support, but Jaebum without his smell is not Jaebum. His cologne is a tad too strong and it’s going against his subtle natural accord. You hate it.

“I’m not scared of failing. I’m scared of taking people down with me.” And he chuckles because the thought itself is scary. Ruining another artist’s career would end him for good.

“It could also work out and become a bop.” You lean against the balcony’s bench, eyes scanning the room and you see Bambam chatting with a depressed Youngjae.

Jaebum can’t see it, he is too busy watching the horizon. “I don’t want to create a bop; I want to do something beautiful and valuable.”

“A bop can be beautiful and valuable. Following a trend doesn’t mean being greedy.” You know what he means. Jaebum isn’t mainstream, he runs by his beliefs and what he thinks sounds good, he doesn’t want to be in the charts. It’s the same with perfumes.

“You know about it, luxury perfume maker.” He snorts and it shocks you. Your eyes swiftly go from the room to the side of his face and you suddenly feel offended. Are you being belittled by Im Jaebum, right now? He sighs, looking back at you with eyes that you didn’t know could exist on Jaebum “I’m sorry. I should just go home.”

You shake your head, trying not to think too much about his mean comeback. “Sure. If it makes you feel better.” You know it’s not the best comfort you gave in your life, but Jaebum feels so different you can’t do anything about it. You’re only a passer-by in his problems and you already have your own. There’s so little you can do to help him, except making sure he doesn’t do something stupid.

“Well...” His voice is so low you almost don’t hear him, but you don’t need to ask because he is already walking away along with his strange odour. You watch him enter the room, you see him avoid every eye and looks, you see Youngjae hit Bambam’s shoulder softly and you see your assistant check to look for you.

He comes as soon as he notices your bored face on the balcony. “Boss, I’m sorry, I didn’t to-”

“I know.” You cut him. It’s too late for apologies and too early to talk about this. You don’t want to think about this guy for now. He has issues he can’t deal with, so there is no way you could do it for him. Maybe your mind is turning into a cold bitch, maybe you’re only using this guy for your own benefit.

But then again, he does look like he is doing the same so it’s fine by you.

“Youngjae is kind of sad, now.” He points at his friend who is pouting into the room and you both enter the place again, doing your best to try and defend your roommate who brushed this guy’s hope like dust on a chest of drawers.

You come back home by 4 and find Jaebum writing at the same spot he always is. You smell this bloody perfume in your living-room and you want to throw it out the window but you head to your room instead, ignoring him as much as he is ignoring you.

You fall asleep at 6.

Bambam arrives later with croissants and freshly made orange juice. He is wearing a burgundy suit with golden jewellery and you open your flat’s door still in your pyjamas.

“Week-ends are chill days, got it.” He snaps his fingers with a grin when he enters and hands you the bag. You can smell butter from it, it must be delicious.

“I’m exhausted, let’s just work for a couple of hours.” You explain while going to the kitchen.

Bambam agrees. “Sure. Now that we found the base notes, we can focus on the middle notes.”

At this, you make a face. Thank god Jaebum took a shower before going to bed and erased that damned scent from himself. But now the familiar feeling is back. It’s back from god knows where and aiming for your head again, blurring your consistency and shaking your sanity.

Bambam sips on his drink and speaks again. “I think this perfume is going to be great.” You love his positivism. Bambam is not the type of boy who would let you feel down. He always comes up with great compliments and positivity. If only you could be like him.

You smile at him, nodding. If he says so.

“Youngjae doesn’t want to give up on Im Jaebum.” Bambam continues the talk and now you react. It tickles your interest because it’s much more intense to think about Jaebum when you’re surrounded by his aroma.

“He doesn’t look like he wants to work with him, though.” You explain. Bambam acquiesces.

“Youngjae told me he needs to get in touch with him. I don’t want him to kill me so...do you think you could help us?” To this you lift a questionable brow at your assistant.

“How? It’s not like he will listen to me.” You have no powers over him. He drags you toward him without knowing yet he doesn’t give a damn about your mere existence.

“Do you mind if I give Youngjae your number?”

You open your mouth, in shock “Why is that? I really can’t help. Have you seen how he is, here? Tell your friend not to waste his time and look for another lyricist. There must be people who can write as well as him.” There must be, Jaebum is not the only genius in town.

Bambam shakes his head. “I think you could help us. Please?” His puppy eyes are working way too much for your taste and you don’t like it when you agree, feeling trapped into a plan that is doomed to fail.

Bambam grins so wide you can count his teeth one by one. “Thanks, boss. Youngjae will be so happy.”

“Tell him not to expect too much, honestly.”

You start working 30 minutes later and finish 4 hours later. You both came up with nothing new and you decide not to insist. You knew from the moment you woke up that you would be even more useless today. Bambam grabs his stuff and thank you again for your cooperation. You scratch your head, ready to go back to bed but Jaebum’s body is out, and heading to the bathroom.

You close your eyes, in awe. It’s like a drug you need. It gives power and motivation, but also dissatisfaction.

You decide to go to the kitchen, instead. Knowing Jaebum, he must be in need of food and pretty much very hungry at this hour. You don’t know why you start preparing food for him, and you decide to blame his scent, because it’s the only explanation to your kindness.

He goes out shortly after, sniffing the delicious smell of food and you wonder if it works on him like his own scent works on you.

“Hey,” he says, eyes puffy. His clothes are huge on his body, and it gives him cool vibes. He sits by the table and yawns.

“Want some food?” You ask, your back facing him while you’re already putting stuff into a big plate. You know he is going to say yes. He would never say no to sausages.

“You made some for me?” He is surprised. You hear a sound and the next thing you know, he is right behind you. You close your eyes because his shower gel adds to the spell he put on you.

He sees you nod and smiles. He is happy. “Thanks.”

You walk away, grabbing another glass of orange juice. You can’t talk now, but you still need to help this poor singer who wants to entrust his career to this weird guy.

“Bambam came this morning and he said-”

“I know what you’re about to say, but I won’t work with this guy.” Jaebum stops you before you can even try. How did he know?

He rolls his eyes, already stuffing his mouth and it’s difficult to understand what he says at some point “Bambam knows Choi Youngjae, Bambam is your assistant and we are ‘roommates’, so obviously he is going to ask for your help.”

“What a perceptive man.” You mock him but to your surprise, he laughs. It seems he likes it when you become daring.

“I know, right? I have a sharp nose for these things, no bad pun intended.” He munches like it’s his last meal on earth, not the least annoyed by your poor attempt at making him change his mind.

“You could still work on the song you showed me. I mean, with him.” It sounds simple. Jaebum has a song ready, and Choi Youngjae needs one, so why not work on it?

“It’s not that easy. You can’t offer a song like you give a perfume to someone.” He says and regrets it instantly.

“You should really stop talking about me like I’m doing shit.” You get angry. It’s the second time he talks to you like you’re nothing. Like your job is pointless.

“No, I mean- Shit. Sorry.” It’s surprising to see him apologize but you won’t give in. His smell is awesome, but his behaviour is the total opposite.

“I’m really doing my best. You’re the one who agreed to come to the party, and you’re the one who made me stay with you when you had to deal with this singer. I’m only trying to help.” Your voice is filled with frustration. You’re frustrated because of his behaviour, the way he deals with things and most importantly, the way he acts like life is over every time someone mentions music-making.

“I didn’t ask for your help, if you remember.” His fork is long forgotten on the table, but his voice is steady, too calm for what he is about to say. “You dragged me here instead of letting me deal with things. You’re the one who involved yourself into my business, and I don’t even know why honestly, so don’t complain when I imply that I don’t need you.”

“So why are you still here?” You know what he is about to answer, it’s logical.

“I don’t know, you tell me. If not because of you, I would be long gone, out of this bullshit. But I’m here, trying to write the shitty things I come up with in my mind. If my behaviour is too much for you to handle, I guess I can take myself out.” He reacts fast and gets up, already walking to his room and you know he is about to grab his stuff and leave. Even the tiny wind following his walking body smells like heaven but you don’t stop him. Maybe it’s for the best, maybe this whole situation isn’t meant to continue.

He is gone less than an hour later, and when he closes the door with a soft noise, you want to cry. You don’t miss him, but the smell is slowly going away and it’s ripping your insides because it was giving you fuel to continue, and now you have nothing.

You will never be able to feel this again.

“I’m taking a couple of days off.” You tell Bambam over the phone the next day. It’s a fine morning. The weather is great, you slept well, you’re about to grab lunch but your mind screams for help. You take your keys and hear Bambam ask if you’re okay.

Of course you’re okay. Your flat smells like shit, but you’re totally fine.

“I’m okay, just not feeling well. Tell the boss I’m sick.” You hang up when Bambam tells you to take care of yourself and close the door behind you. What a day to feel like crap.

The day is boring, it means nothing and it is so unlike you to feel so down. You’re not a cheerful person, this you know, but to the point of finding everything tasteless? It never happened. Jaebum won’t leave your mind and you find yourself wondering if he finally did what he wanted to do. You walk slowly whenever you see a bridge. It makes you look anxiously, hoping he didn’t do it.

You spend the rest of the day thinking about what you’re going to do. You can’t possibly create this perfume anymore, not when you have no idea where you’re going. Maybe you should let Bambam do the job and pray for it to work. He is good, he can do it.

You get a call from Choi Youngjae who pleads you to convince Jaebum and you can’t tell him he is long gone god knows where so you assure him you’ll do your best. You hate lying, but somehow you can’t crush him. 

It stays that way for three days. Three days of wandering the streets and sleeping until your eyes get puffy and red. Three days of long grunts and sighs. Three days of trying to persuade yourself that you don’t need him, that he was a mistake that stained your already messy mind. 

You decide Jaebum means nothing, his smell is just an illusion and you don’t need it to live. You’re strong, independent, you need no jerk to function. You convince yourself at some point, ignoring your subconscious who laughs at you for lying to yourself so blatantly.

Bambam comes back when you tell him you can start working again. You’re back on hard-working mode, sniffing bottles after bottles and talking to Bambam like you’re a new person. He is surprised by your sudden motivation, and when he doesn’t hear about Im Jaebum and doesn’t seem him, he prefers not to ask.

He is obnoxious, but not stupid. He knows your leave wasn’t for the sole purpose of healing.

“What do you think about Bergamot?” You try. It’s better than everything you mixed so far, and it’s not the best, but it’s good enough for now.

Bambam approves, opening another tiny bottle. “Oriental Leather.” he smells it and starts coughing violently.

You take it away from his hands before it can fall. It’s too precious to go to waste. “Let me see. Maybe...12 percent?” You used it only once, and it was for a very specific perfume. Back then you didn’t like how it smelled, but maybe it could go well with your current base note.

“Oriental leather is strong, even stronger than musk and maybe, maybe we’re about to make something good.” Your eyes shine when you start working on the proportion, hands as busy as your mind. Bambam watches intently, even taking notes from time to time. He will never get enough of your knowledge; he feels so lucky.

The result is great; you can feel it. Bambam loves it and it’s suddenly jackpot.

But when you’re about to take a much-needed break, a soft knock on your door makes you rush to answer. Apprehension fills you from the deepest it can reach as you open the door, breath long gone. It’s not Jaebum. It’s a stranger. You feel stupid for being so eager to smell him again and you decide to ignore the disappointed feeling into your stomach.

“Are you Y/N?” He is elegant, all suits and hair neat. His eyes are a not so typical shade of dark brown, and they shine so bright it feels like a human doll is standing in all its glory right in front of you.

“Yes...? And you might be?” You ask back. Bambam arrives behind you when he doesn’t hear any sounds coming from the door.

“I’m Park Jinyoung, I’m here to see Jaebum. He told me you’re both roommates, but he hasn’t been answering his phone for the past days so I decided to come.” He gives you a smile which fades when you answer, voice barely above a whisper.

“He moved out three days ago.”

---

You’re panicking. This Jinyoung guy looks angry and you can’t understand how he can stay so calm when Jaebum completely disappeared.

He takes out his phone when it rings. “Yes, father. I had to meet with Jaebum. No, I won’t be late.” He turns to your questioning gaze, “Work.” He smiles before looking around the place, waiting for you to speak.

“So this is where he stayed. It’s a huge flat. Are you rich?” he asks and you can’t believe it.

“No, I’m not. Do you have any idea of where he could be?” You ask. You need to know if he is safe. He can’t be dead, can he? No it’s impossible, he has all the talent in the world, he smells great, it can’t go to waste.

“No. Not at all. Jaebum often disappears and comes back like it’s nothing. I’m sorry for coming without further notice.” He is about to go like nothing dramatic is happening.

“But, you’re not going to look for him?” It’s crazy. You hear thunder outside, and understand it’s starting to rain heavily. You see flashes of Jaebum crying under the rain before jumping off a bridge, or even a roof, or anything that would hurt him.

But Jinyoung laughs, and his eyes go back to playful when they were annoyed a minute ago. “No, I won’t. I told you he often does that. He will come back soon.” Your first thought is to slap him because, come on, his friend is suicidal and he doesn’t move? But you don’t say a word, you don’t move, you don’t even show how worried you are.

Maybe he doesn’t even know Jaebum wants to end his life.

Knowing the guy, he obviously omitted to inform his friend about his dreadful intentions. It’s not a surprise then, to see his friend so relaxed, like Jaebum went on a soothing week-end in the countryside.

The latter walks past you and you get hit by the smell of pepper and musk. It fits his fierce feature. “I’ll be going then. Sorry again for intruding.” He notes how concentrated you are, deep in thoughts like you’re trying to find the answer to a complex puzzle.

You simply nod, and Bambam leads the man to the main-door, not noticing the way Jinyoung looks at him like he just came out of a very tacky movie. Your foot taps the floor restlessly and it’s a miracle you didn’t rush to look for him yet.

He wouldn’t even care anyway.

“Are you okay?” You assistant has warm eyes and your worry reflects upon his face. You try to smile back to keep your façade but inside it’s twisting. Your insides are a mess.

“Yes. Let’s stop here for today okay? It’s starting to rain; you should head back home.” You care about your assistant, you really do, but you can’t talk to him about it. If Jaebum didn’t even mention to his closest friend, then Bambam can’t be included into this. No matter how friendly and concerned he looks, he can’t be dragged into this huge mess you created yourself because of a stupid smell.

A stupid and addictive smell.

“Yes. Right.” Bambam looks away, somewhat hurt that you wouldn’t share what’s on your mind and grabs his jacket from your office’s chair. He comes back and his long fingerS suddenly tap your shoulder.

“It’s going to be okay.” You’re not surprised to hear his words. Bambam is perceptive and way too social not to understand that you and Jaebum are not complete strangers to each other. He doesn’t know about the scent, but he can see that there is something that makes you go to him.

He doesn’t ask and prefers to stay silent. He is here for work, but you’re always so lonely and have no confidence that it makes him want to scream. To him, you’re amazing and he wishes nothing more than have a tiny bit of your talent to exist. He sighs and turns around, legs tightly wrapped into torn jeans and disappears with soft motions. You look outside when a bolt of lightning illuminates the whole living-room and wonder if Jaebum is safe. You hate feeling this way. You’re even more pitiful now.

It’s hard to sleep that night. You blame it on your lack of exercise. Your body isn’t drenched enough to feel tired, so you turn around again and again, legs blocked into pale blue sheets and hair messy, spread on your cushion like a fighting octopus. You stereotypically look at the ceiling from time to time, picturING images of you creating something beautiful mixed with the familiar and dazzling scent of Jaebum. You wish nothing more than for it to stop, but you can’t decide for yourself and your soul leads the way, ordering you to be miserable and in need of his being to be able to be rational again.

You hear noises and blame it on the heavy rain clapping against your windows along with thunder. It’s tapping softly and adding to your anxiety, following your heart rate in an off-putting manner. You ignore it, scolding yourself and aware that you’re not going to be productive when Bambam will arrive next morning.

But the tapping comes back shortly after and you get off your bed. You grab your abandoned robe and wrap it around your exhausted envelope, rolling your eyes at your own paranoia. So what now, someone is going to rob your place? You decide to check the windows because maybe it’s only a matter of wind hitting the glass. You hope it is. You check all the rooms and when you don’t hear it anymore, you rush to bed again. There’S only a little time left before you’re supposed to be up and you can’t waste it on idiocy.

But on your way to your room you jump, hand over your mouth to silence your horrified cry. Your chest is about to explode and you got so scared you’re trembling. You freeze and blink when the shadow you spotted in the tiny lobby doesn’t move, against the wall. Your hand silently reaches for the wall and you turn on the light when you finally get a grasp of the situation. So this is what it is.

Jaebum is on the floor, drenched and looking exhausted.

And you can breathe again.

[a-baleful-howl]

This is Not a Love Story: part 2

Check out or refresh with Part 1 here.

To tell a good love story on screen, scenes, dialogue, camera angles and shots are important. Usually you have lots of quiet "get to know you" moments. Or single shots showing one of the love interests reactions. You need to give obvious and believable reasons for them to be falling in love. Television caters to the lowest common denominator for exposition. Usually its the big plot twists and mastermind moments that are subtle little easter egg hints.

When you compare the scenes between Jon and Sansa in S6, to the Jon and Dany scenes in S7, there is a big contrast. And the audience picked up on it, and thats why we now have a lot of Jonsa shippers after S6. People speak in body language, and movie language helps audiences to pick up on that. If you surprise your audience with a romance that wasn't well built up, you're audience will be colder to the idea and it will not feel believable. Or, the love story will not be the main focus, instead perhaps the conflict and the repercussions of it will be. It would not be a love story.

I am not sold on really anything right now. Ive said it before and I'll say it again. Im not sold on undercover!Jon. I'm not sold on horny!Jon. I'm not sold on Jon being in or out of love right now, either. It could go so many ways. But, after months of doing research on how to write romance for my own books and stories, I know when I see a well written romance vs a bad one. And I sure hope this badly written romance isnt the victim of a rushed season or cocky writers.

I definitely got the feeling from S6 that Kit was given direction that he was slowly falling in love with his "sister" and super conflicted about it. I know Kit can do it. I know he can - so why are we not seeing it here? He could be fighting against the idea of a relationship because he has bigger things to worry about (See: Night King) but what would he be falling in love with?? Right now, the only conceivable answer would be "her looks" - which is just....infuriating. Enraging. Just... jaw droppingly maddening.

Looks can be a starting point - yes. But once Jon sees more and more of who Dany really is, theres just no way he would fall in love. They have totally separate goals. Old, pre-crow Jon would have looked at Dany and just laughed.

So have the scenes theyve shared so far shown us how they would possibly fall in love? Let's see.

Directly after the power-struggle cave scene, we have Jon and Dany exit the cave onto the beach where Dany gets some bad news.

She flips out. Jon and Davos stand awkwardly by while mommy Dany and daddy Tyrion fight at the dinner table. When Dany turns around to bite Tyrions head off, Jon steps several steps back. She is frightening everyone else on that beach. This is a display of Dany's temperamental behavior. She is angry and turning against someone who was supposed to be her most trusted advisor. Her loyalty and diplomacy is hanging by a thread. She is not as calm and level headed as everyone would want you to believe. She will turn against anyone, at anytime.

She accuses Tyrion of being too attached to his family. Who else thinks family is super important? Jon, of course. He sees Dany basically say "fuck family" and threaten Tyrion, her hand, for putting family over her. Apparently, the only one allowed to be sentimental towards family is her?

She is worked up in such a rage over starting to lose her war that she immediately goes into the "dark place". Fire and blood. Tyrion tries to calm her down but she bites his head off more.

Emilia says in the BTS, "Every time that things go wrong, more Targaryen comes out. More fire comes out."

She's being rude to Tyrion, embarrassing him in front of others, disrespecting his advice. We have seen this in the past - Dany DOES NOT like being told what to do. More often than not she completely disregards her advisors advice, does what she wants to anyway, and it comes back to bite her in the end. Every season highlights a direct piece of advice she ignores and how it fails horribly. Why hasnt she learned her lesson by now? Because she never admits when she fucks up and learn from her mistakes.

Then she turns her attention to Jon when Tyrion doesn't tell her what she wants to hear.

Dany has shown Jon little, if any, respect since he arrived. Being cold, distant, imprisoning him, not calling him by his appointed title, only offering to help if she gets something in return, etc. So why does she ask him for his advice? Its surprising and makes little sense. And Jon does not want to get in the middle of this. This isn't his war, thats not why he came, and he just saw how she treats her advisors. But she's insistent. She wants advice from someone different.

Back to the dragons. He uses them to take a stab in the dark about how/why she has so many followers. He makes that great speech that boils down to "don't be more of the same. Be different." He's also taking a little bit of his own story here. He came back from the dead, did something impossible, and is trying to be a different ruler for his Kingdom than what they've seen before.

What's odd is that Jon visually calms her. She doesnt bite his head off for saying pretty much the same thing as Tyrion. She's a little more receptive to his advice. She already likes him more than Tyrion. Her eyes soften, she doesnt yell.

But as we see later, she didn't really take the advice to heart. Yes, she didnt storm Kings Landing with her dragons and kill thousands of innocent people - but she does go off immediately to kills soldiers, burns loot and frightens people into bowing to her. Thats not what Jon said to do, either.

So we see Dany softening to Jon. He made it about her dragons - and *whew boy* is that a way to get to her heart. He praised her to be this savior she wants to be. So, this is another hint that Dany is coming to like him and respect him. But where are the signs for Jon feeling the same?

He is frightened of her when she has her tantrum. He only answers when she insists. He wants no part of this. He sees her basically say "fuck family", turn on her most trusted advisor, flirt with a dark place and do what she wants anyway. Not attractive qualities for Jon. They are still opposites. She is still preoccupied with her quest for power.

She flies off, and then we see Jon and Davos walking around on Dragonstone, probably relaxed because Her Grace is gone for the moment.

Davos makes a comment about how Jon has been staring at her "good heart."

1. What have we seen yet, that would make Jon think she has a "good heart"? Shes been cold, uncooperative, prone to anger and entitled.

2. When have we ever seen Jon look at her boobs? In the cave, he keeps his eye line at her face/eyes. On the beach they were too busy backing away from her yelling to even look at her chest. In the throne room, any attraction he might have felt when first seeing her was eclipsed by her personality and attitude.

3. This is weird exposition to try and force the audience into thinking Jon is attracted to her. You should not have to spell out a romantic attraction. Looks and camera angles and dialogue should do it for you. We're watching film, not listening to a radio show.

Maybe this was a way of the writers spelling out why Jon is avoiding an attraction? "Theres no time for that". He is single-minded with the fight against the Night King. He's not open to the idea of romance.

Then, Jon reenforces this idea that he doesn't trust Dany at all. He is hesitant to believe she respects her subordinates because that is the opposite of everything he's seen so far. He's a King and she has imprisoned him against his will.

But Missandei's response gives him a little bit of insight into why people love and follow Dany. He had not seen it himself before Missandei spelled it out for him. He's been imprisoned, he's seen her be cold when he asked if she believed him, and he's seen her turn against Tyrion. He doesnt necessarily believe it, but he listens to Missandei.

This is why his speech on the beach made no sense to me. Why have him give that speech before he talks to Missandei or another one of her followers? Where did he get that speech from? Its almost an identical speech to Missandeis. And if he believed that, and came to that conclusion before talking to Missandei, then why is he doubtful of Dany's "good heart" in letting Missandei leave or Dany giving hope to her followers?

It would have made more sense to have him talk to a follower first, before his speech on the beach about Dany making "impossible things happen." Unless he came to that conclusion on his own - but then why ask Missandei? Why look so reluctant to open up to her? It makes no sense.

Immediately following is the Theon scene. Honestly, the more I rewatch this scene, the more I realized I love it more than the LF crypt scene. Oh god, the nuances. Jon's quivering rage voice. His dead eyes, which are more expressive than we get to see lately. Holy crap I love this scene.

But this, I guess, is also important to show Jon what kind of rag-tag gang Dany has as her allies now. Theon was such a little shit - growing up and when he betrayed Robb. It speaks to the type of person Dany is that she has this guy on her side.

Kit says in BTS "I think he's willing to forgive anyone if they are willing to help fight against the Night King."

But Jon explicitly says he is only sparing Theons life because of what he did for Sansa. Theon helped her escape. He sacrificed himself to save her - to take her away from that awful place. I'm sure Sansa and Jon have had many conversations since her escape about what Theon did. And not only did Theon tell Sansa that he didnt kill Bran and Rickon - that he murdered two innocent farmer boys, instead - but they got the proof in Rickon on the battlefield and Sam seeing Bran beyond the wall.

But Theon still did horrible things. He's still a slimey person in Jon's eyes. And here he is, on Dragonstone, fighting for Dany. What does that say to the company she keeps? That shes allied with morally questionable people? Or that she's a forgiving person, with a weakness for "cripples, bastards and broken things"? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Theon asks where she is, and Jon does not look happy or okay with the answer.

So far, we're in episode 4 of 7 and there is no reason for Jon to be attracted to Dany. He has seen bad sides of her. He has given her a few chances to show any good side, and she doesn't.

Dany is intrigued by him. He's kind and different. She asks for his opinion. His advice seems to calm her. He's played to her good side. So we can see her starting to soften.

But Jon is not really intrigued by her. He wanted to go home. He's been held against his will. She is stuck on this quest for power. She is hot-headed, selfish, and short sighted. He has seen very little redeeming qualities to warm up to her. He just wants his dragonglass and to GTFO. So far, she has only agreed to help IF he bends the knee. She wont help simply to save people. She wont help because of her "good heart". She wants his power and his kingdom in return. Not what he was hoping.

So then we have Dany coming back to Dragonstone after scaring people into bending the knee. The Tarlys dont, so she burns them to a crisp. She aint playing around.

Jon is just standing out on a cliff, in his cloak, probably brooding some more? Waiting for her? Welcoming party? Why is he out there?

And then we have a moment between him and her dragon. This is a moment ONLY between him and her dragon. Dany is just a spectator here.

He is frightened of the dragon, but YOLOs and faces his fear. He is literally facing his fear. Testing his own courage. Proving his own strength to himself. This moment has nothing to do with Dany, but everything to do with him.

He is awestruck. Dragons were a thing of legend. And now he is connecting with one. His adrenaline must be off the charts. Its a magical moment.

Now Dany is very attached to her dragons. She believes she is the only one with a connection to them. Most people would scream or run away. Her dragons have reacted violently to those who have ever threatened her or wished her harm in the past. They are one with her. And here is Drogon, a dragon which is aggressive and unpredictable, acting so gentle and different towards Jon. And shes just an outsider to this moment.

Another check mark that would make Jon attractive to her. Her dragons didn't scare him. Her dragon liked him. And Jon seems to like the dragon. Thats different. Thats new. Thats on the same level as her. He's surprised her yet again.

Now, Jon looks up at her as if "this is yours? This magnificent beast is yours?" But as soon as she comes down, he's all business again.

His moment with her dragon warmed her up to him a little. She wants to talk about her babies with someone else who probably has the same unhealthy admiration for them like she does. But he's not quite on the same page. Now, what word was Jon thinking instead of "beautiful"? Frightening? Terrifying? This sets off another one of Dany's "fire and blood" looks which scares Jon back into submission. She's a firecracker just waiting for a match. Dont want to get on her bad side. She's mama dragon - and hes seen that quite a lot.

Now, here is The Look(TM). Arguably the only time Jon seems to really look at her without thinking. In the scripts, the stage direction is "He watches her watching her dragons and wishes that he could keep looking at her and forget about the world events weighing on his shoulders." And dear god, was the impact lost.

In contrast, look at how Jon gets lost staring at Sansa in S6.

honestly, this scene is just ripe with Jon looks.

Focus shifts, single shots, close ups, and lingering on him lost in thought with no context. If you want to point out a look or reaction - THIS is how you do it. There are focus shifts, to highlight Jon's face. To bring attention to it. You can't miss it.

Him watching Dany in 7.05 is actually so subtle you might miss it. Its not the focus. We arent supposed to be honed in on his reaction. If it was oh-so-important, there would have been a single close-up, or a camera shift for us to see that he was distracted watching Dany.

Also, this is related to her dragons. Her relationship with those dragons is important to Jon. Jon only seems to show thought and softness when her dragons are involved. And it is over before you know it.

Back to business. He brings up what she left to do. And it's not good.

He's conflicted. She did the opposite of what he hoped she would do. He can understand why, but it's disappointing. Not a turn on. Not an attractive quality. Not something that is winning him over. Another chance she had to show him she was good, and she chose not to.

She has dragons. And shes not afraid to use them.

Then we move on to the talk and walk. He is still acting reserved. Shes in charge of the "get to know you" talk again. Shes standing closer. She's warmed up. She's talking much more like an equal and not like a cold ice-queen.

And she grabs his arm. But there’s no close up. ;)

Then she tries to get more acquainted by asking a more intimate question, in a more intimate way. Why is she so stuck on this knife in the heart line? And why is he still so insistent on not telling the truth? He still doesn't trust her. He is still on the fence about her. He lies to her face. And she just wont let it go.

This is not level playing ground. This is not "getting to know each other". Dany is trying but Jon is resisting her getting to know him any better. Why?

It looks like its about to get uncomfortable - that he is upset by lying and she might press the issue. But thankfully Jon is saved by Jorah. Dany looks so happy she might cry. Jon is confused by her sudden change in attitude. Who is this guy shes much more agreeable towards? Thats not the Dany hes seen in his time there.

Then she introduces him. Jon knows who he is.

Now, some say Jon looks "jealous". Um - why? Why would he be jealous? He trying to avoid a connection between them, as evidenced by his lie right before. He's simply clicking the pieces in his head - figuring out her relationships.

He sees her embrace and welcome this man who he was raised to think as a traitor, a bad man. Someone who his father had sentenced to death for doing unspeakable things. A coward who ran from his sentence. And here Jorah is, acting noble and completely loyal to this girl who has been cold to him and her other advisors the entire time he's been there. He sees more of her misfit rag-team, first Theon and now Jorah, and how she treats those who are loyal to her.

He's only clicking the pieces and starting to figure her out. His "good heart" line would have fit better after this scene, too. It made no sense where it was before.

This is the first time we see any hint that Jon might be able to warm up to her. The way she cares for her dragons. The company she keeps. How warm she really was to Jorah. But thats overshadowed by her action towards her enemies. Her look when he almost dare speak ill of her children. The fact that he still wants to keep his own secrets from her, whatever his reasons may be.

Its now episode 5 of 7 - and just now his side starts to come into play in this "supposed epic love story", and it's shaky at best. He is still wary of her.

Jon is staying very mysterious. Honestly, ever since he showed up in Dragonstone we are not shown much of his POV. We see a lot of Dany's POV - her talking with her people a lot. Her talking in her war room with Tyrion. We don't see a lot of Jon talking with his people, or talking about his wants and plans. He is staying a big mystery. Davos and him talk a little about how "theres no time for that." Jon and Theon have a Sansa moment. Gendry and Jon have a bonding moment. But do we ever see him talk about his plan for bringing Dany to his side? We really only see his actions through Dany's eyes or someone else's.

These non-focused looks are very mysterious. Why does he get lost staring at Dany? Why does he keep lying about dying? Theres no exposition. Which is really odd, because Dany has quite a bit of it.

This romance is shaky, forced, rushed and confusing at best. I mean, it helps explain the backlash and the disappointed fans. How viewers are confused by this outcome. Why everyone is desperate to think there is something else going on besides "true love".

I think everyone can agree that this relationship is doomed in one way or another. But the big question right now is - does Jon actually love/have feelings for her? What evidence is there for that? What has been shown on screen to support a mutual romance? Not much, so far.

I'll do the rest later. Tumblrs mobile update might ruin my current work (it only lets me tag one hashtag at a time because I have to use the mobile browser- blah) - but I'll get onto it! These take a lot more work than I'd expected, and coding from a smart phone is a bitch. Part 3 and (maybe?) Part 4 coming soon.

xoxo

edit: and it keeps fucking up on me. T.T I hate formatting on Tumblr so much...