#it's like my brain sees that the deadline for the next page is much further in the distance and suddenly it has the energy to create again

[ann-chovi]

It's always when I decide to take a break from posting comic updates so that I can slow down and breathe when inspiration hits and suddenly the next three pages are scripted and planned

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[hangovercurse]

Midterm Season

You have exams coming up and Colson isn’t happy about it at all

Request: “you should do one where the person is studying and colson is distracting her very fluffy”

Colson x Reader

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: As someone who has 3 exams in the next 2 weeks, I could use some of this rn

Word count 1242

masterlist

Colson was very proud of you. He loved that his girlfriend was getting a master’s degree. Every chance he got, he’d talk about you and how smart you were and how hard you worked.

But he also hated every minute of it. Because every moment you were studying or at class or working to pay for class, you weren’t spending with him. He especially hated when exams came around, because you wouldn’t come out of your office for basically a whole week.

And guess what time it was. Midterms. By day 3 Colson was basically dying from touch starvation. You had 2 exams on Friday and another the following Tuesday, so to say you were stressed out was an understatement. And Colson’s whining wasn’t helping your mood.

For the fifth time that day he walked into the room, leaning in the door frame. “How’s it going, babe?”

You didn’t even look up at him, too focused on the textbook in front of you. “It’s going, Cols. Just like it was an hour ago.” You didn’t mean to be short with him, but he was really getting on your nerves. If you didn’t pass these exams, you could end up an entire semester behind, which means you would miss the hiring spree that happened after spring graduation. You couldn’t afford any distractions, but that’s all Colson wanted to be.

You didn’t see his shoulders slump at your words. He walked further into the room, flopping onto the futon that laid behind you and pulling out his phone. “Colson, I can’t entertain you right now.” You sighed, flipping between two textbook pages to try and compare diagrams with text.

He frowned, looking up at you. “I just wanna spend time with you. I know you’re busy but I thought I could at least sit in the same room as you.” He mumbled, trying to remind himself that you weren’t mad at him, just the world.

You didn’t respond, just kept taking notes from your book. Colson would occasionally chuckle at something on his phone, and after the fourth time you wanted to take it from him and throw it across the room. “I can’t focus when you’re in here, Colson.” You sighed, angrily. “Seriously, can you get out? I really need to do well on these tests so I need to study.”

“Babe, I’m literally just sitting here.” You stared at him blankly. “So you’re saying that my presence is bothering you?”

“Your words, not mine.” You sighed, turning back to your notes. A part of your brain knew you were being unreasonable, he wasn’t really doing any harm by being there. He just happened to be the only thing nearby you could take your stress out on.

Colson wanted to get mad at you, tell you that you were being cold. But he also knew that he put you through this whenever he had an album deadline, so he understood. So, he swallowed his pride and walked over to you, wrapping his arms around your neck. “Colson, what are you doing? I just told you I need to focus.”

He pressed a kiss to the side of your head, “I know, but you’ve been studying for almost 72 hours straight. You need a break.” You rolled your eyes, focusing back on your material. Colson sighed when he realized you were just going to ignore him. “Please take a break? For me?” He pleaded, tilting his head to try and find your eyes, but you were still staring at your textbook.

“Let me finish this chapter, then I’ll take a small break.” You were lying, but you thought if you told him that, then he would leave you alone. It didn’t work.

“Nope.” He mumbled, lips pressing into your hair again. “We’re gonna make dinner together and then you can go back to pretending I don’t exist.” You didn’t acknowledge his words, flipping a page.

He grumbled, moving around to stand on the side of the chair and wrapping an arm around your middle. In an instant he picked you up bridal style, much to your dismay. “Colson, stop.” You tried to push him off of you, but he was much stronger than you. He laughed, walking you out to the kitchen. “Colson, this isn’t funny, put me down.”

He finally set you down on the kitchen counter, his arms wrapping around your middle. You pushed his chest, a frown on your face. “You know I have to work, why are you being so fucking needy?”

He tilted his head, a smile on his face, “you’re really cute when you’re mad, you know?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to push him away from you once again. “I don’t do this when you’re working on music, why can’t you just leave me alone for a few hours?” His smile was only making you more upset. “You’re not even taking this seriously, Cols. This is really important to me and its like you don’t even care. I can’t entertain you every goddamn minute.”

His eyebrows furrowed, getting serious. “Babe, I do care that this is important to you, but I care about your health more. I don’t think I’ve seen you ingest anything that isn’t caffeine or pretzels for three days. You won’t take care of yourself, so I have to. And if that means you getting mad at me, so be it.”

You rolled your eyes, shoulders slumping. “I can take care of myself later. But there won’t be a me to take care of if I don’t pass these classes.”

Colson sighed, hands grabbing yours, “baby, your grades don’t define you. Okay? One bad test isn’t gonna ruin your life. Yeah, it’ll suck, but it’s nothing you can’t overcome.” He kissed your forehead.

You leaned your head against his chest, letting out a defeated sigh. “I just really want to get a good job and I won’t get a good job if I don’t graduate on time. And I won’t graduate on time if I don’t pass these classes and I won’t pass these classes if I don’t study.”

He nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. “Y/N Y/L/N, you are the smartest person I know. Just being in grad school is an accomplishment. On top of that you are an amazing girlfriend, an amazing pseudo-mom, and the most amazing person I’ve ever met. Any employer would be lucky to have you.” Colson tilted your head up with his hand, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. “But you gotta live long enough to get employed, and that’s not gonna happen if coffee rips a hole in your stomach.”

You nodded, a frown still on your face. “I’m sorry I was being so mean earlier.” You grumbled.

Colson chuckled, backing away from you and towards your cupboards, “I’ll forgive you if you make dinner with me. And come to bed before 3am tonight.”

You sighed, hopping off the counter, “I suppose I could sacrifice one night for you.” You walked over to the stovetop, where he was placing a pot on the burner. You wrapped your arms around him, head resting against his back. “I love you.”

He smiled and turned to face you, wrapping his arms around your waist, and picking you up. You giggled and wrapped your legs around his middle, hands clinging to the back of his neck. He pressed quick pecks all over your face, “I love you too.”

[the-molecularbio-kitten]

Things I Feel Like Suggesting for People Similar to Me (Or: How I managed to get my ass off academic probation while getting depressed yet again)

Alright y’all, I just saw yet another graphics thing talking about how the creator got and maintained a 4.0, and that’s great! Their methods work for them, and likely will work for other people! As someone with adhd and bipolar disorder who seems to get depressed every semester without fail, some (most) of those things don’t work for me, and likely won’t work for other folks like me!

So here’s how I managed to get off academic probation this past semester. Huge disclaimer, I started off the semester feeling okay, so if you’re starting off not at a good place, this might not work for you. (I also tried to keep this short and sweet, because my eyes sorta glazed over the second slide of the graphic I saw, but it got long, so I’m sorry)

1). Write down on a piece of paper all the dates and deadlines for tests/quizzes/assignments

If you’re like me, physically writing things down is better than putting it somewhere on an electronic planner, or even a regular planner (I’m sure you’re familiar with the “out of sight out of mind”, a very real thing i and others struggle with). Put that piece of paper somewhere you will see it regularly. Also, I suggest writing the assignments and such in different colors. If it’s one color I personally find I am not willing to look at it. Make it fun, add stickers and shit if necessary.

2). If you have books you need to read, or textbooks, try to keep them always open to the pages you need to read next

Especially when I get depressed, it is SO HARD to even bother opening my damn books. Like, if I can manage to open the pages, that’s it, that’s my One Big Task for the day. Cut that step out and keep your shit open. Even ebooks and such, keep that shit open on your computer if you can.

3). Stay in touch with your profs, be honest and open about your situation

Seriously, I would have definitely failed my classes if I didn’t email my professors and tell them I was struggling mentally. I know, I KNOW this is so hard to do, it’s taken me literally YEARS to be comfortable opening up to people about my struggles, but I guarantee you, 90% of the time profs will be understanding and willing to work with you IF you tell them right away. They can’t help you if you email the day before the final that you’re struggling. You gotta advocate for yourself, and like I said, most of the time profs WILL work with you

4). Make it fun!

Make doing your assignments and readings fun. Especially when you fall behind, you gotta make it fun to convince your brain to Do The Shit. What I tried was make like a “board game”, with each assignment being a square, and I advance a playing piece further as I complete the task. Make a game board for each class, and make sure you add squares for breaks and snacks and whatever. If it’s a lot, make game boards with the tasks broken up into days, so one game board you do on say Monday and has 4 tasks, the next board on Tuesday with another 4 tasks etc. Make that game board pretty too, but don’t spend too much time on it, you’re trying to get yourself to do the things, not procrastinate more. I also might suggest if you like puzzles, have a small child’s puzzle, like 25 pieces, and if you have 10 tasks, assign each task to a puzzle piece. Complete the puzzle up to the ten pieces, then add each of the ten pieces as you finish your tasks. For me, my need to finish a simple puzzle outweighs (sometimes) my avoidance in doing the thing. Especially if I set the Rule that the puzzle is ONLY for completing assignments, well then I can’t just complete the puzzle without first doing the associated task, because that is Breaking the Rules.

5). Take breaks when needed (be honest with yourself)

Seriously, don’t push yourself if you really can not do the thing. You’re just gonna make it worse for yourself. “But so-and-so can push through their procrastination and—“ okay, but is so-and-so YOU? No, they’re not. Do what YOU can do, and screw anyone else who says you gotta do something a certain way. Be honest with yourself, really know your limits. Yes sometimes you gotta power through the crap, but sometimes you just gotta know when it’s too much. Drop classes if you need to, there’s no shame in that, I’ve literally dropped 15 classes already (it sucks yes, but at least I am still in college, versus if I failed them I would’ve been kicked out).

6). Ultimately, if you pass you pass

Something important I realized/learned this semester, a passing grade is a passing grade. My psychiatrist even told me that her own grades don’t matter anymore because she passed and got through and became a doctor. As she said, literally no one cares about grades once you graduate. So if you can only get a C grade in a class, that is A-Okay. The only thing that matters is you pass and eventually graduate, so take it easy on yourself.

Anyway, as I said, hopefully this will help someone else for whom those helpful student graphics don’t work or apply to.

[pinkhairedlily]

Chapter 4 - Student Council President Sakura

SCPS AO3 | PREVIOUS CHAPTER

“By any chance, are you two available after class?” Sakura asked her seatmates.

“No.” The reply, while simultaneous, delivered contrasting connotations with Sasuke being gruff, adamant, eager to be uninvolved while Naruto’s was dripping with disappointment and missed timing.

“I have practice.” The blonde sank further into his seat. “But whatever is it for, Pres?”

Sakura grimaced at the monicker. “What’s up with that?”

“It’s what everyone calls you now,” Naruto replied. “You’re the youngest president too so that’s like a really big deal, you know. So anyway, if our schedules free up and coincide, maybe you can join us in this cute café.”

Sasuke discreetly flashed him a glare which obviously just flew past across the blonde airhead, but it was caught by Sakura who knew where this opening was headed.

“They served the best sweets but grumpy here ordered a tomato dish. Like what’s up with that? They also gave us free food before we left!” Naruto grinned widely, unperturbed by his next statement. “Moreover, there’s a cute barista who looks just like you.”

And Sakura decided to deliver the curve ball. With her chin on her open palm, she looked at Naruto directly. “So you’re saying I’m cute?”

Sasuke swore that was the reddest he saw Naruto turned. He tried to hide the bubbling laughter with his head down and his hand on his mouth, reveling in the blonde’s embarrassed stuttering, but he slowly registered her amused glance at him, and he wondered briefly why his face was also turning hot.

------------------------------

He shouldn’t be doing this. He should have come home after classes ended and not be entranced with Naruto’s rare offer of free dinner. Obviously, by free dinner, that meant their coach paying for the entire team’s meal as well as the roster of honorary members, which unsurprisingly included him.

So he was just napping the time away in the classroom, away from their go-to hideout because of the noisy dragonboat power yells, when he heard a scream and an ensuing crash of what seemed to be books and stacks of papers. His feet was already at the door before he could think this through, his body moving on its own accord like an innate response to a familiar voice.

Loose pink strands were splayed on the floor, surrounded with likewise loose pages from the confines of the folders.

“Did you hit your head?” he asked as he crouched beside her. “You seem to enjoy injuring yourself.”

“I didn’t hit my head. I landed on my butt which hurts a lot right now but thank God I’m wearing sweatpants because you would have seen such outrageous grandma panties.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose at the TMI. “Try filtering.” He proceeded to pick up the scattered papers and files on the floor and gestured for her to stand up already.

“I need a hand though.”

“My hands are full with your documents.”

“Then let me get your back.”

He muttered an annoyed protest under his breath, but he squatted low enough for her to reach the back of his uniform and pull herself up with accompanying ow-ow-ow-ow. They walked like that until they reached the student council office, her box of files safely tucked in both of his arms, her one hand on the edge of his shirt and the other on her lower back.

“Thanks, Sasuke! And with this, I pronounce you and Naruto my official runners!”

“He’s not even here.”

“He’ll agree. After all, I look like his cute barista.” Sakura winked, riding on the comedic atmosphere.

“But I didn’t even agree?” Sasuke protested, falling into deaf ears as she quickly took the folders from his arms and exited the office with a wave. He was sure warning signs kept flashing inside his brain.

------------------------------

He was set on keeping his distance, thus despite her informal announcement, it was mostly Naruto who accompanied her in most errands except in instances when he had to stay behind after class to wait for the blonde.

His latest task was to help write support banners for the preliminary matches of the baseball team. Personally, he found the game season a nuisance, but of course, he wouldn’t admit it to himself that the trainings were eating up most of his time with Naruto. If they weren’t practicing pitches during lunch, the blonde would discuss game strategies, a topic he actually exceled in. Sasuke theorized his brain cells operated most efficiently when used for kinetics. He wouldn’t admit it, but he felt sidelined – with his companion successfully finding something to keep the loneliness at bay – while he remained in the frontlines, waging an internal war between the thundering silence of his apartment, and the raucous chaos of his thoughts.

He stood there awkwardly on the side of the student council office as the rest of the council members hunched on the floor, painting the words haphazardly out of the outline patterns, the worst among them being Sakura.

Frustrated and driven by a compulsion, he grabbed a spare brush and blank canvas and started the lettering. Thank god for his childhood calligraphy classes. This feat earned him interested looks from the members.

“Wow Pres, you really reeled in a talented runner,” one member chided. “He’s still as grumpy as ever though.”

Sakura wasn’t entirely happy as she looked over his shoulder. “Oh come on. Our banners weren’t that bad.”

“If I were on the baseball team, I’d think you would want us to lose.” He finished one cheering banner and gave it to the nervous member beside him. Apparently, his presence intimidated them even though he was but a mere runner. “Can you give me the next one?”

“Why are we bothering though?” asked the vice-president. “Our school team never makes it past the preliminaries.” From the get go, Sasuke felt her slight annoyance of having been bypassed in the selection, and while this was valid, he also thought she shouldn’t project this to Sakura who was caught in the middle of the decision of the advisory board.

He needn’t worry however, as she carried the subtle dig effortlessly, her usual positivity dripping through. “Isn’t it better to put it your all and see everything through than to give up when the clock hasn’t even started running yet? I find regrets more troublesome.”

Flustered with her response, the vice-president shifted her gaze back to the canvas in front of her and started to paint again. Everyone didn’t see it, but he caught Sakura sticking her tongue out to her.

Such a child. He found himself smirking.

Naruto started skipping classes as the day of the preliminaries crept closer. A week of this behavior prompted Sakura to pry his address out of Sasuke. He found out days later that she started coming to his apartment and incessantly ring the doorbell until his neighbors in the complex complained of the early morning noise.

Sasuke’s part in this scheme was the notes he compiled and one-word reminders through texts when there were deadlines or assignments. Somehow, it evolved into a convoluted arrangement among the three of them to keep the baseball rookie MVP afloat in his academics. As compensation for their efforts, Naruto started to buy them convenience store rice balls for morning snacks.

“You idiot. You should save your allowance,” Sasuke said smugly to the blonde.

“And yet you’re swallowing it in full.” Naruto grinned. “You should chew, grumpy! Chew!”

Sakura took a sip of her cranberry juice and smiled fondly at them. “Are you ready for Friday?”

“We’re facing off a top ten school, and Captain Haru said we don’t have that much chance. I don’t believe it though. I think we’ll win,” Naruto replied.

“You have a strategy ready?” Sakura asked.

He shook his head and pointed to himself rather proudly. “No but the team has me.” Sasuke choked on the last bit of his rice ball at the latter’s pronouncement.

“I told you to chew!”

Sakura, in panic, gave her half-drunk juice carton to him, and Sasuke, also internally panicking, grabbed it and downed the rest of it.

“You okay?” Sakura patted his back and snuffled a laughter which Naruto joined with his loud, uncontrollable dry heaves. Sasuke glared at the two, but this only served to amuse them further. “Oh wow, that was the first time I ever saw you uncomposed.” She swiped the tears in her eyes with the back of her hand.

“But really, they have me so we’ll win,” Naruto insisted.

“I’ll wear a cheering uniform for you,” she chirped back.

“Gods, dumb and dumber,” Sasuke sighed, defeated.

------------------------------

On the afternoon of the game, Sasuke found himself surrounded with a large female following after Sakura got all the members and the runners cheering outfits, and by outfits, that meant olive green jersey tops and maroon sweatpants representative of the school colors. She also took advantage of his obligated presence by giving him the task to distribute the banners and flaglets to the benches. The genius orphan and the couldn’t-care-less Uchiha roaming the rows? That pulled the student crowd needed for the game.

“Go Naruto!” Sakura yelled beside him. A black bandana was tied around her forehead, and her ponytail was replaced with a high bun.

Sasuke inadvertently covered his eardrums. The noise was even louder when the student council started a yell routine in the bleachers. The side of the opponent was half-full, and surprise was transparent in the other team’s faces. Probably the first time that support with this magnitude was given to the baseball team. Also, it was his first time attending a ball game in person, not that he didn’t try asking his brother before.

He felt a light tap on his shoulders. He turned around to see a raven-haired girl behind him, dressed in a lilac midi dress and sporting the black bandana on her wrist. “Is this seat taken?” She motioned to the space beside him. Her face was familiar – he knew he saw her somewhere but also certain he never interacted directly with her.

“Ah Hinata?” Sakura’s voice squeaked in recognition. She gestured to him to exchange seats with her, and she immediately patted her to sit down. “Cheering for Haru?”

Ah, the Hyuuga, the captain’s girlfriend. They’re actually friends.

“I was actually planning to buy the whole team dinner regardless of the results,” she said to Sakura. He was not good at reading people, but this Hinata was soft-spoken and gentle with her mannerisms that he found it fitting for her to be with Haru. He was, after all, so steadfast and assertive with his members, and he could even get Naruto in line with a look. So much so like Sakura that this exact dynamic was playing beside him.

It was a weird thing though when he glanced at the two and saw that her eyes were not trained on Haru but on certain blonde bloke on the field.

“President Sakura.”

Great, another distraction. He knew that voice even when the entire field was already screaming.

Sakura whipped her head too fast he was afraid she was gonna break her neck. Even when she was already glowing, her face lit up brighter when Kakashi handed her two bottles of water. “Nice job rounding an audience. Here, Give one to your runner.”

It was evident she wanted him to stay as she started to look around and tried to find a space near her. Noticing this, Sasuke tried stand up and offer him his seat, but she placed a firm hand on his knee, followed by a slight shake of her head, and a soft disappointed sigh when Kakashi disappeared from the crowd.

------------------------------

He was walking out of the bathroom when the announcer declared the winner of the two-hour game. Of course, they would win. Naruto never backed down from his pronouncements, no matter how silly or unattainable they may be. He should buy him a stack of his favorite ramen as prize.

“Yo, Uchiha.”

Naruto’s bullies blocked the path leading to the bleachers – there were four of them, the same people who made fun of him in the hallway last time.

“Your people skills shot up after spending time with that orphan MVP and the chirpy pinky huh?”

“Birds of the same feather flock together.”

Normally, Sasuke would let these insults slide, if one could call them that. They were bigger and taller than him with faces that reflected experienced jabs in their scars and band-aids. To take them on alone, considering also the fact that he skipped gym for almost a year now, would be suicide. Nonetheless, he didn’t feel riled up as they expected him to be.

“Or should we say, they shot up in their society ranks because of you? After all, your dad was a member of the board.”

“Oooh my bad, dead dad.”

His hands started to clench into fists – an involuntary action out of their own volition. This slight shift in his body language gave them the go signal to surround him.

“Heard through the grapevine that it was actually your fault they’re dead. Imagine sleeping next to your dying parents and not looking for help?”

“Pathetic being.”

“Now he parades himself like an entitled son of a chairman.”

A kick to his shin. “Can’t really do anything to us, huh? Afraid to tarnish your dead daddy’s reputation?”

A punch to his side, and Sasuke clutched at the contact. Another right at the center of his stomach, and he doubled over, the water he drank threatening to hurl itself on the ground.

“You’re a better target than Orphan No. 1. You don’t really fight back.” The bully placed his foot on his hand, pushing him down further and making him bow. “You need to show you’re a model student. After all, your brother’s one of the shareholders of the school, and he has no need for trouble from his shunned sibling.”

Simultaneous kicks to Sasuke’s side. They were right, to an extent, but it was the whole process of explaining that would tire him out. Conversing with Itachi was a drag all on its own, like talking to the void, and hearing the senseless blame games all over again. This was all right, he assured himself throughout the whole encounter, since he was already numb. The other pain inside his head was stronger and sharper.

“Then again, you probably pulled some strings to get pinky that coveted position, didn’t you? Imagine a second year being president all of a sudden without going through the motions.”

The bile rose to his throat, and there was an entirely different metallic taste in his mouth. His fists were itching to fight back.

“Let’s destroy your pretty face this time, and we’ll come for the pinky next.”

Sasuke gained momentum to land a kick on the person’s crotch, the force and shock sending him reeling to the side. That was reckless, he knew that, because then he was exposed to the punches of the three others. And so he waited for contact but there was a flurry of bodies and that pink bright contrast in his line of sight.

One fist landed on Sakura’s face.

AO3 LINK | NEXT CHAPTER | CHAPTER 5

[katehuntington]

Title: In Bad Waters - part five Word count: ±4250 words Episode summary: Still in possession of the Winchesters’ belongings, Zoë meets up with the hunters on her next case. When it turns out to be a little more complicated than anticipated, she accepts their help in order to make an important deadline. Part five summary: Sam tries to find out more about Zoë’s past, but when he meets up with his brother again, he never thought he would have to reveal his own. Episode warnings: Dark! NSFW, 18+ only! Descriptions of domestic violence/child abuse. Drug use/addiction. Angst, gore, violence, character death. Description of blood, injury and medical procedures/resuscitation. Swearing, alcoholism. Supernatural creatures/entities, mentions of demon possession. Descriptions of torture and murder, drowning. Illegal/criminal practices. Mentions of nightmares and flashbacks. Author’s note: Beta’d by @winchest09​​ and @deanwanddamons​​. Thanks, girls!

Supernatural: The Sullivan Series Masterlist

S1E02 “In Bad Waters” Masterlist

     Paragould, Arkansas      June 16th, 2005 - Five months ago

     A shrill whistle reverberates over the training fields. Children stop in their tracks and run back to the teacher, bursting with energy.      “Alright! Good job, everyone! Red team wins!”            A woman, probably around her thirties, smiles as she is surrounded by her class. Like they always do after practice, they sit down on the grass in a circle, looking up at their teacher, waiting for her to give the cue to head off to the dressing rooms. The sun shines brightly and stands high in the blue sky, shining down on them. Birds chirp, hopping from branch to branch in the trees surrounding the fields, while the American flag flutters from the frontage of a school building.

     “Looking forward to summer break?” the teacher asks, laughing when her question is answered with loud enthusiastic cheer.      “Aren’t you even going to miss me?” she pouts.      “We’ll miss you, Mrs. Dawlson,” one of the little boys speaks up.      More kids agree with him, causing their supervisor to smile, humbled.      “I’m sure you will do fine at Oak Grove, Roy. You’re all going to middle school! Fifth graders already, my boys and girls are all grown up.” She observes her class, pride in her kind eyes. “I tell you what. Next Friday we are going to play lots of fun games, alright?”      The faces of the children light up and they happily beam at each other, already excited for next practice.      Their teacher lets them off the hook. “Be safe, off you go!”

     All get up and bolt for the dressing rooms, challenging each other to get there first. Some squeal and laugh as they play tag along the way. All but one. The joy disappears from Mrs. Dawlson’s face as she watches one of the girls, who slowly strolls back to school. Despite the warm weather, she’s wearing a long sleeved shirt and blue sweatpants.      Mrs. Dawlson sighs, clearly caring too much about her children to let this slip. “Laura?”      The little girl looks over her shoulder, her expression blank. She carries her long, chestnut hair in two braids, her bangs cover her eyes.      “Could you come here for a second?” Mrs. Dawlson asks, gently.

      Laura drags her feet with her head hanging down, like a dog who has done something wrong and is now called back to get punished. The teacher sits down on her heels to level with the little girl, making sure not to talk down to her. But Laura doesn’t look her in the eye and keeps staring at her feet.      “How are you doing, Laura?” she wonders, her voice friendly and calm.      “I’m fine, Mrs. Dawlson,” she replies, politely.      The coach hesitates for a moment, figuring out the best way to approach her pupil.      “Well, alright. But if there is anything you want to talk about, let me know, okay?”

      The young girl looks up and Mrs. Dawlson startles at what she sees. She can detect a dark bruise through her bangs, right above her left eyebrow. With her fingers, she carefully sweeps away Laura’s hair and reveals the injury underneath. Scared, the student backs out and turns her head away. Quickly, but without hurting her, Mrs. Dawlson grabs Laura’s wrist and pulls up her sleeve. What she sees then, would make everyone’s stomach turn; her entire arm is bruised.          “How did you get these?” Laura’s teacher questions, a bit firmer than before.      “I fell,” she lies.      “Tell the truth, Laura. Who did this to you? It’s alright,” Mrs. Dawlson tries to convince her.      “No one! Please don’t tell anyone!” The little ten year old begs as she pulls herself loose.      “It’s safe with me. I promise,” her teacher assures.      “No, I - I can’t,” Laura stammers.

     By now she’s crying. Big tears stream down her porcelain cheeks. It seems like she is going to cave in, but suddenly she turns around and makes a run for it. Mrs. Dawlson lets her go and straightens her back. With a sigh, the teacher places her hands on her waist and watches the girl leave the field.      Disapproving, she shakes her head and closes her eyes, swallowing thickly. “Poor girl…” she whispers to herself.

     Paragould, Arkansas      November 26th, 2005 - Present day

     It’s still early morning when Sam pulls over at 2310 West Kings highway and enters the parking lot of the Ramada Inn. He left Zoë still asleep; apparently she really needed her rest. Last night, he wondered what was going on in her head and what she’s been through, as he went over the database she developed during her years of hunting. He could tell from the file properties that she didn’t just accidentally stumble on a ghost and got curious. He doesn't know the entire story behind her possession, but something happened. Something bad.

     The first file was added over four years ago, containing information on a Diligo Vesco. ‘Diligo’ can be translated to ‘love’ in Latin, ‘Vesco’ meaning ‘eater’ in that same ancient language. A demon who served directly under the devil himself in the early years, one of Lucifer’s creations, if you believe the lore. Not your ‘casual’ black eyed rat from hell, like the ones Dad dealt with every so often. No, this one was much worse.

     The name fits, because that’s exactly what it does; it literally feeds on love, by possessing someone and slaughtering the host’s loved ones. The demon doesn’t just kill them, though. A Diligo Vesco is one of the most vicious and sadistic of its kind. It’s been reported to take its sweet time torturing the victims, before actually killing them. Sam found case reports in Zoë’s database that described the gory details. Limbs severed, organs ripped from bodies, missing parts of the brain. Arson, waterboarding, skinning, mutilation. Ways of torture he had never seen before. One of them was called Blood Eagle, where the demon would cut open its victim’s back, break all the ribs and twist them upwards, giving the poor soul ‘wings’.

     Since the beginning of time, these creatures are responsible for unexplainable and brutal murders within families and close circles. The Ade family murders in 1874, where the children were cut up and set on fire. The Green Family massacre in 1994, in which the mother of three slaughtered her children with an axe. These smart monsters play the game well, framing the vessel for the blood that the demon sheds.

     The Diligo Vesco is only able to show its true face when the host is physically close to someone he or she loves. Until that time it holds on like a leech. An exorcism would be the only way to spare the life of the possessed, but this is where it gets tricky; the demon can only be exorcised when it manifests. By the time a hunter picks up its scent, it is usually too late. Most of the time the damage is done and the thing is long gone. When it does come to driving out the demon, the host nor the exorcist rarely survive. Killing these demons is close to impossible without harming the person it's controlling. Yet this is what his father and Dean must have accomplished, since Zoë is still walking amongst them.

     Curiously, Sam had compared Zoë’s online database with his father’s journal, but the case happened to take place in a period of time from which a couple of pages of the book are missing. Zoë does not elaborate on the details of her own case either, but whatever happened, it triggered her to become one of the best hunters in the country. The list of creatures that she slayed after her possession is impressive. Zoë ended more supernatural spawn from Hell in the past four years than some hunters manage to kill in a lifetime.

     Still pondering over this newfound information, Sam gets out of his brother’s car. On his way over to Paragould, he and Dean talked about this new Sullivan girl. The youngest Winchester couldn't help but to be curious about her motives, her past. Dean doesn’t get why Sam even gives a damn. He said it’s none of their business and if Zoë doesn’t wanna share, why dig further and risk getting your eyes scratched out?

     While rummaging in his pocket, he enters the motel lobby and makes a left turn to the main corridor. The red carpet underneath his feet is stained and the wallpaper has come off at the corners, a sheer contrast to the Hampton Inn, where Zoë is staying. Here, the coffee machine in the hall spits out the most horrendous brew, they need a flashlight in the bathroom because the light is broken and the air conditioning sounds like a generator, but doesn’t actually do jack shit. But then again, he has a feeling that not even a freezer could have cooled down the rabbits inside of room 106.

     Just as he takes out his room key, he sees that he won’t need them; Dean is already at the door with the blonde he picked up the night before.

     “Call me,” she tells him, as she saves her number in his phone.      “I sure will,” Dean smirks.      They kiss once more. Both can barely keep their eyes off each other as the young lady parades away in last night’s clothes with a flustered grin on her face. 

     Sam passes her in the hallway and looks over his shoulder. He can see where Dean’s coming from; she’s beautiful. Dean has spotted the look upon his brother’s face, though.      “Forget it, tiger. She’s mine.”      “Had a good night?” Sam chuckles, hoping he will skip the details.      Dean yawns and saunters back into the room. “Did I have a good night? I barely got a chance to sleep.”      “Okay, already more than I wanted to know,” Sam cuts off, before Dean spills the goods.

     He follows his older sibling into the room, finding one bed untouched and the other a complete mess. An empty bottle of Sauvignon lays on the ground, while a dirty glass still stands on the cabinet next to a half a bottle of Jack Daniels. The window is wide open, the heavy curtains wave in the wind slightly, but despite the fresh air, the room still smells like sex. Seems like they had one hell of a party.

     “Let’s get going,” Sam announces.      Dean looks aside at his little brother, frowning. Since when is Sam the one who gives the orders?      “Already?” he replies, bummed, clearly hoping for a rendezvous.      “Yeah, I found our stuff,” Sam informs.      “Ah, so you found Sullivan,” Dean chuckless, raising his eyebrows.

     Sam huffs and rolls his eyes, but his older brother doesn’t pay attention to it, tipping over an empty bag which once contained potato crisps. Apparently he’s hungry.      “Yeah. It didn’t take me long to find her. Her bike was parked outside a hotel. She’s working a case,” Sam explains, acting casual, but Dean can’t help himself.      “If it didn’t take you long to find our shit, then where were you all night?”      Reluctantly, Sam sighs before he answers. No way in hell his brother is going to respond maturely to what he is about to say.  “I spent the night at her place.”      Dean laughs out loud, throwing his head back. “I knew it! You cheeky bastard!”      “Nothing happened, Dean,” Sam states with a tone.      “Oh, come on. Not even a little smooch?” he teases, but Sam denies.      “A look then? You know, one of those cheesy Notebook moments.”      But again, Dean’s brother shakes his head, although he can’t resist to comment on that. “You saw The Notebook?”      “Well... no. So I’ve heard,” the oldest corrects uncomfortably, quick to turn the conversation back around. “But let me get this straight; absolutely nothing happened?”      “That’s what I said,” Sam confirms.

     After opening a pizza box that - to Dean’s disappointment - is empty, he stops searching for food. Then he turns to Sam, who is clearly annoyed with the interrogation.      “Are your eyes fucked up?” Dean wonders in disbelief. “Honestly, I'm a little disappointed. I thought I taught you better than that. How can you spend the night with a woman like that without making a move?”      “That’s it. I’ve had it.”      Sam squares his shoulders and stares at Dean, furiously. His brother pissed him off, but Dean can hide his victorious grin. For weeks he has tried to push Sam over the edge, to trigger him to let it out. To yell, cry, take a swing at him if that was what his little brother needed to do to feel better. Anything to get him out of the dark hole in which he’s currently hiding up.

     “Did it ever occur to you that I might feel terribly guilty if I would just head off with some girl for a one night stand like you always do?!” the youngest of the siblings exclaims.      “I have no idea, Sam. You never talk to me about it, so how the fuck am I supposed to know how you feel?” Dean bounces back.

     “And you think it’s strange that I don't talk about what happened?! My girlfriend was murdered, Dean! I was going to ask her to marry me, for fuck’s sake!” He pauses, growing even more furious. “I had everything planned out! Law school, Jess, everything!”      By now Sam paces from one side of the room to the other, restless and upset.

     “You were gonna marry her, really? Sam, with your background the chances of the American dream coming true was close to zero. You should’ve known that,” his brother reminds him.      “I was just trying to move on, I was trying to be happy! And you know what? I actually was!” Sam halts in front of Dean and raises his voice even more. “I loved her, Dean! I still do and I can’t get her out of my fucking mind! She died because of me!”      Dean looks at his younger sibling, sympathetically. “Don’t do that to yourself, man. It’s not your fault she’s dead.”      “It is. I didn’t warn her about the danger out there!I lied to her--”

      Sam intends to ramble on, but Dean intervenes.      “- What makes you think that telling her the truth would have made a difference? Whatever killed Jessica, wasn’t just some ghost, Sam. Hey, listen to me.” The older brother grabs Sam’s shoulder and forces him to look down into his eyes. “That same thing killed Mom, and probably a whole bunch of other people. It’s powerful, and if Dad has trouble stopping it, no offence, but you wouldn’t have stood a chance.”

     “I’m not talking about stopping him at that moment, Dean!” Sam pulls himself loose and turns away.      An unpleasant silence fills the room as Dean waits for a follow up, but his brother doesn’t continue.      “What then, Sam? Talk to me,” he pleads.

     Again that silence. The younger Winchester doesn’t move and stares at the wall with his hands placed on his waist. He swallows apprehensively, his jaw tensed. Then Sam sighs and turns around for Dean to see his eyes glister.      “I could have prevented it,” Sam claims, his voice soft and broken now.      Dean observes him, thinking through his next question first before he shoots. He has a feeling there’s more to this than just guilt.      “How?”      Sam bites his lip and averts his gaze. Then, after a month of silence, Sam finally opens up to his brother.      “I dreamed of Jessica’s death, days before it happened.”

     Complete silence. While the air grows even thicker with tension, Dean stares at his brother, his eyes confused and stunned. Taken aback, he opens his mouth in order to respond, but can’t find the words he’s looking for.      “Y-you mean, as in… a vision or something?” he returns disbelieving, chuckling nervously.      Sam scoffs as he moves away, ready to leave this conversation already; he knew Dean would respond like this. “Never mind.”      But Dean doesn’t let it go. “You’re telling me that you actually saw Jess die, like she did, in a dream?”      His younger brother halts, turns back slightly and eventually nods his head. “I didn't think anything of it at first. I figured it was just a bad dream. Until…”

     He doesn't need to finish his sentence. Dean says nothing, instead he just stares at Sam. Several thoughts rage through his head. What the hell is going on with him? What the hell could this mean? Why the fuck didn’t he tell me this before? The sheer thought that something might be terribly wrong with his little brother, has his stomach in knots. This isn’t ordinary. In fact, this is as far from ordinary as a human can get. He is stunned and overwhelmed by the idea, but his own brother might actually be something a hunter would keep a close eye on.

     Sam swallows thickly, feeling exposed and embarrassed. “You’re looking at me as if you’re about to empty a bottle of holy water over my head.”      For a moment Dean glares at the flask on the table.      “Dude, you’re seriously considering?!” Sam shouts, frustrated.      “You wanna tell me that this is normal, Sam?!” Dean counters, raising his voice.      Sam shakes his head and turns around, already regretting that he brought it up.      “Why didn’t you tell me before?” the older brother questions.      “I don’t know,” Sam mutters, staring at the ground.      “You don’t know? You’re psychic, right?” Dean scoffs.

     The youngest of the Winchester boys grinds his teeth, but doesn’t say a word. The tension between the two of them is heavy and familiar; it feels the same as when they had the argument before Sam took off for college.

      “Anything else I should know, Sam?” Dean pressures, clearly worked up over this. “I don’t know, maybe you can stop bullets or run super fast.”      Dean steps to the other side of the room with his arms folded in front of his chest, making fun of the situation because he has no idea how else to deal with it.      Sam eyes him, following his movements. “Funny,” he snaps. “Mature, too.”      “It would explain a lot of things. The ‘S’ stands for ‘Sam’ and there’s your love for tights,” Dean provokes.      “Stop it,” Sam hisses, but Dean isn’t done.      “Can you fly? ‘Cause that would be fucking awesome.”      “Dean!” Sam warns mad.      “What?! Either I joke about it or I lose my fucking cool! Take your pick,” Dean returns.      “One way or the other, it doesn’t help!” the youngest exclaims. “You see? This is exactly why I didn’t tell you, Dean! I knew you would give me this kind of shit!”      “What did you expect? You kept this from me for over a month!” Dean brings to mind, hurt seeping past the words.      “I don’t have to tell you everything I go through. I don’t owe you that,” Sam makes clear, venom in his tone.      “And that’s where you’re wrong,” Dean turns to him, pointing his finger as he approaches his brother. “I am your fucking brother, Sam! So yes, you do owe me that!”

     Dean stares straight into Sam’s eyes, his head tilted slightly backwards to look at his younger yet taller brother. Sam can see his words struck a nerve.      “We used to tell each other everything. What happened to that?” Dean wonders.      “It left, along with me.”

     Sam breaks eye contact and walks past him. As Sam bumps his shoulder against his, Dean shuts his eyes and clenches his jaw.      “I know you’re pretty damn good at it, but don’t you walk away from me,” he threatens, not brave enough to turn around to watch Sam leave.      “Why wouldn’t I?” Sam tests, not impressed by Dean’s stern words.      “Because this is not something you can walk away from! When will that finally come to you? When you’re in, you’re in. There’s no way back when you know about the things in the shadows, especially not when you have fucking visions about it!”       Now Dean does turn to face Sam, who scoffs at the message. “So what then, huh?! You’re planning to hunt until you’re in a wheelchair?”       “No, I’m planning to hunt until I finish the job Dad left for us to do and along the way, I will kill as many sons of bitches as I possibly can. Saving people, hunting things, the family business.” He pauses, staring at his brother with fiery eyes. “I intend to prevent people from going through the same shit we’ve had to endure, and if I don’t succeed, I’ll die trying.”

     This time, Sam doesn’t have a counter ready. No stubborn remark, no smart answer, just silence. He’s not sure what to say to that. He has to admit, he respects Dean for his morals, his honor. It gets him thinking, too. About his own future, his own life. Because deep down he knows Dean is right. He can run from the supernatural all he wants, but it will continue to follow him, always and everywhere.

     “Why should we be the one to sacrifice everything?” Sam questions, less hostile than before.      “I don’t know,” Dean sighs. “It’s just the way it is. So we either feel sorry for ourselves, or we suck it up.”

     Sam nods, admitting, but not at all okay with the inevitable. He can never have the life he wishes for. There will always be more to hunt, more to kill; this is a never ending story. And even if he does turn his back on the business for good, will he be able to forget about Jessica’s death? Can he move on without scanning every street, expecting something out of the ordinary around every corner? Right now, actually getting his law degree seems impossible, but then again, maybe he was being naïve when he went to Stanford in the first place.

     “Shall we go?” Sam suggests.      Dean looks up at the defeated man. The peace has returned, but brought a sense of devastation along as well. Accepting his fate is hard on Sam, he understands that. So Dean decides they had enough arguments for one morning and lets it go. He got Sam to talk to him; one step at a time.      “Can’t we stay one more night?” Dean tries, carefully.      Sam frowns, but then understands his reason for hesitation.      “Denise”, he chuckles. “Or Demi? I’m not sure. Her name started with a ‘D’.”      Dean’s typical grin appears on his face again, his eyes still soft, though.

     “Listen, man. I’m not pushing you to hook up with some chick just to mess you up, okay? At some point it’s gonna be time to move on, and I just figured a girl might help with that,” Dean lets him know, somewhat apologetic.      Sam eyes at his brother for a little while with an expression saying something in the line of ‘yeah right’. After a moment of who-gives-up-glaring-first, Dean caves.      “Alright, I wanted to piss you off so that you would get it out of your system,” he admits.

     The corner of Sam’s mouth twitches upward; he knew it. He’s not mad at Dean for playing that card, though. His older brother means well and he actually feels a little better now that he told him what is going on.      “Seriously, man. Talk to me when something’s up,” Dean underlines.      Sam responds with a nod of the head, then he gathers his stuff, apparently intending to leave.      “Ah, come on. One night,” Dean begs.      “There’s something ripping out hearts down in Texas, described by locals as ‘possibly coyotes’,” Sam offers.      Dean rubs his unshaven chin and thinks it over.      “Awesome werewolf hunt or awesome sex? Tough one,” he ponders.      Sam can’t help but smile and waits for the final call.      “Alright, let’s hunt some wolf,” Dean gives in. “Do you need to change in a phone booth before we go?”      Sam gives him a death-stare once again, but his brother keeps a straight face.      “No?” he checks, teasing.

     Dean can’t wipe the comical smirk off his face and so Sam shoves his brother towards the door, triggering him to let out a laugh. Before he follows, the younger Winchester feels his pockets for his phone and freezes. Unpleasantly surprised he looks around.      “Lost something?” Dean wonders.      “I think I left my Blackberry at Zo’s,” Sam realizes.      “Naturally,” Dean chuckles, failing to believe he didn’t leave it there on purpose.      “Would you quit it already?!” Sam returns, feisty.      “Okay, I’ll stop,” Dean promises. “We need to score some food anyway, I’m hungry.”      “There’s a In-N-Out a block from Zoë’s hotel,” Sam mentions.      Dean’s eyes light up, imagining the food in front of him already. “A Double-Double it is.”

     Sam grins as Dean picks up a small duffel containing only the few things they carry around at the moment. He follows Sam outside, who locks the door behind them. A quick bite before they leave another town and move on to the next. They never stay long, but the last two stops have been extremely short. Dean likes Denise, or whatever her name is, yet he has never been the guy who sticks around long enough to get serious with a girl. To be honest, a wolf hunt already sounds more fun than doing the girl he already did last night. After that shapeshifter drama, and now this newfound information about Sammy, he’s up for something equally exciting and distracting. Dean is sure of it; Texas, here they come.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Read chapter six here

[bngtanah]

House of Triad | Games (m)

summary: All the best things come in threes.     Just a bunch of one-shots centering around V, RM and the shared girlfriend they affectionately call ‘Honey’.

pairing: Vmon  x Reader

word count: 3.1k genre:  smut rating: explicit

chapters: o1| o2| o3|

warning: light angst, smut, fluff, explicit sexual themes, ambw, poly, oral (fem receiving), fingering, pillow talk.

a/n: There is no plot, only trash.

Working from home seemed like an easy enough perk. You get to stay at home, wake up twenty minutes before you’re supposed to working and sleep in whenever you wanted.

Simple.

This is exactly what Honey thought just before she became a full-time writer and writing was no longer a fun hobby that she had a natural talent for but the very bane of her existence on most days when she just could not get the thoughts out of her head and onto the page in front of her. The music helped her to focus she liked to say, usually her Pandora mix of choice was the Classical station but today she was furiously typing along with show tunes she knew would only end up stuck in her head later. Her fingers were moving at an untraceable speed across the surface of her keyboard as she muttered each sentence before she wrote it underneath her breath to make sure it sounded right. Today was supposed to be her day off, but her publishers called at precisely the last minute, moving the deadline for her to finish the next few chapters up to the end of this week instead of the following one.

Which meant she had to pull two additional chapters she hadn’t even started thinking about out of thin air and send them off to the proofreaders. Needless to say, 'Honey' was stressed. Almost ready to pull out her hair stressed, but you would never know it by looking at her; especially not now she looked almost serene while she typed and bobbed her head along to music in her ears. She had been on such a creative roll until she hit the enter button to begin a new line and her train of thought completely derailed. It was almost as if her brain had short-circuited entirely, with a loud groan she shot up from her seat and ran a hand through her hair. Just as she was about to pace around the room to get her blood flowing, something dark moved in the corner of her eye which made her scream loudly and throw the closest thing in reach (her iPod) at the ominous figure. 

"Wah! What's wrong with you?" Taehyung cried after the metal object connected with the corner of his head before clattering to the ground. His hand immediately flew to the now throbbing area as he hissed in pain.

"Shit, Tae" The smaller woman gasped once she realised that the dark figure hovering in the doorway was her boyfriend and not an intruder "Sorry, I didn't know you were home already, let me see" She cooed and crossed the room to inspect the red bruise that was forming on the side of his forehead. Taehyung stood just a few inches above 'Honey' and he made a point of pouting and grimacing even harder when his girlfriend dabbed her fingertips to the outer edge of his bruise. It didn't really hurt all that much but Tae could never pass up a chance to be dramatic.

"Why are you throwing things, anyway?" He asked, sounding pained as he slid his arms around his Honey's waist and pulled her close to his chest. As she pressed her cheek against his chest and sighed heavily, Tae glanced over her head for a second; noticed the open Word document on her laptop screen and he no longer needed an answer to his question. "Ah, that's why."

"I hate my job," Honey groaned into Taehyung's cotton shirt and he rested his hand on the crown of her head.

"No, you don't, Hon" Tae replied with his trademark grin, "You're probably just a little stressed, maybe you should take a break?" He asked, his gaze trailing from the back of her head to her backside while his girlfriend detached herself from his body and slowly walked back over to her desk.

"I can feel your eyes on my ass, Tae," Honey said with deadpan delivery making Taehyung chuckle to himself while she sat down and pressed her fingers back to her keyboard, "I would love to take a break but I really don't have time for that. These chapters are due by the end of the week."

"That's in three days," Taehyung reasoned and placed his hands on her shoulders. One of his thumbs rubbed circles against the base of her spine and he leaned forward so she could feel his warm breath billow over her skin as he spoke, "I'm asking for 20 minutes, hour tops."

Honey felt a jolt of lust throughout his body when she picked up on what he was implying. "I'm busy Tae," She muttered, despite the arousal that was building between her legs. She knew that there was no way that she could continue to say no if he kept massaging the pressure points on her neck.

"I can make you cum in ten minutes if you really want, baby" Taehyung growled softly, leaning close to her ear. His lips teased the outer shell of her ear, the tip of his tongue flicking against the skin and Honey felt her body inadvertently shudder beneath his touch. She was prepared to brush him off against, in one last attempt to finish her work for the day but when his hands moved down from her shoulders to the front of her chest to playfully tease her breasts over her thin t-shirt Honey lost the will to deny him any longer.

"Tae?"

"Yes, honey?"

"Ten minutes only."

Taehyung grinned like a child on Christmas morning and wasted no time carrying her over to the bed, dropping her on the mattress with little gentility and climbing on top of her right away. Their lips connected immediately in a frantic kiss and Honey's hands found their place around his neck and Taehyung grabbed one of her legs and lifted it over his waist. Honey threw her head back against the soft pillows as Tae trailed kisses from her lips, across her jaw, and down her neck her hands slid down his back, grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulled it up. Taehyung sat up for a moment to let his shirt come off before his lips returned to their previous place while Honey's hands explored his newly exposed torso. 

Eventually, he pulled her away from his chest and dragged her mouth to his while he used the other to lift her out of the flimsy dress that was covering her body. The moment that the article of clothing was pulled over her head Honey threw it to the floor, leaving her naked with the exception of her panties. Tae groaned softly as he looked down at his Honey spread out on their bed, there was a part of him that wanted to pounce and ravish her as quickly and roughly as he could, keeping his promise to only keep her away from her work for ten minutes but he stopped himself. He wanted her to get her work done but there was nothing stopping him from having a little fun first.

"You're stunning," he muttered genuinely and smiled when he caught her blushing. He bent down, lips brushing against the silky smooth skin of her stomach and her legs spread wider so he could lie between them.

He kissed his way up her stomach, licking upwards on her sternum while one of his hands slid down her body and snatched off her panties before settling between her legs.

"Mmm," she moaned and pushed her head back against the pillows as his finger ran up and down her slit teasingly.

He kissed along her shoulder as his index finger circled her clit. She tugged on his hair, pulling him up to meet her lips, gasping into his mouth as he entered a single fingers inside of her.

"Tae," she could barely stop herself from moaning out his name as he added a second finger.

He loved the sound of his name on her lips, he'd never tire of hearing her pant and moan any variation of it. Taehyung pulled his fingers from her, smiling slightly at her visible displeasure, and got off the bed. He grabbed both of her ankles and pulled her to the edge of the bed then kneeled down, spreading her open and wide before him diving right in, tongue shooting in and out.

Honey sighed sharply and gripped the bed sheets below as she ground down. "God, TaeTae," she groaned, and a hand went down to his hair, pulling him closer to her. "I'm so close," she whispered breathlessly.

A finger joined his tongue, followed by another and Honey could feel herself nearing the edge. It didn't take much longer when he removed his tongue from her and began to suck on her clit while three of his fingers moved furiously inside of her.

She cried out his name when she began to shudder as she came around his fingers, moaning lightly as he lapped up her arousal, not wanting a waste one drop.

"My sweet, sweet Honey. You're not tired out are you?" he asked playfully as he crawled back up her body and kissed her so she could taste herself on his tongue.

"Not even close," she smiled up at him.

"Good," he smirked. "Because I'm not even close to finishing with you yet," He wrapped his arms around her waist and pushed them further up the bed.

Taehyung rolled them over so she straddled his waist and reached for her breasts, humming softly at the feel of her soft mounds against the palms of his hands. Honey leaned down to kiss him but stopped when he abruptly sat up and took one of her breasts into his mouth.

The pleasurable sensation made Honey throw her head back, her hair cascading down her back as she basked in the way he sucked on her nipple and flicked his tongue back and forth over the sensitive nub. She was lost in a haze of her own lust but still wanted him to be just as worked up as she was, her hips whined at a careful pace against his bare crotch and Honey grinned when she felt the vibrations of him moaning against her skin. Although he would love to keep toying with her, working her up until she could barely say his name; the ache between his legs was becoming much too insistent for him to ignore.

So for the second time that night, Taehyung rolled them over so that Honey was on her back before grabbing both of her hands and pinning them above her head. He settled himself between her legs and teased the tip of his cock up and down her slit. They both moaned together as he pushed into her, her walls gripping him tightly as she took him inch by inch. He kissed her neck, and she exhaled several breathless pants, her hands flexing against his until he finally released his grip on wrists, allowing her to loop her arms around his neck and pull him closer.

Her ankles locked behind him and Taehyung moaned an "Oh, God" as her action pulled him deeper inside of her,  his hips instinctively picking up the pace making Honey beg him not to stop.

They filled the room with their moans, gasps and whimpers. Honey could feel the beginnings of her orgasm tremor inside her as her walls clenched tighter around Taehyung's cock. He pounded into her relentlessly, stirred on by the vice grip she had around him and as his hand slips between their bodies to vigorously stroke her clit Honey is finally pushed over the edge. Her eyes screwed closed and her body convulsed in small frequent spasms as an intense wave of pleasure that overcomes her.

The feeling of Honey exploding around him made Tae lose what little control he had stored away and he slammed into her at a frantic pace. Still in the throes of her release Honey spreads her legs wider to accommodate his frenzied thrusts until he too is taken over by an intense orgasm.

Still half-hard, Tae pulls out of her out of breath and practically glowing as he gazed down at the beautiful woman he was so proud to call his and she looked up at him with the same lazy and satisfied grin spread across her lips. A grin that fell into a small chuckle as she glances over his body, immediately noticing that he was still up and rearing to go once more. Without words Taehyung swiveled his finger and motioned for Honey to turnover, which she did without complaint; moving to lie on her stomach and rest her chin on her forearms. He eased her hair to the side and pressed his lips to the base of her spine, trailing kisses all the way up to her neck and then back down again. His muscular hands massaged her, moving from her neck down to her back and stopping at the curve of her ass making the raven-haired beauty beneath him moan at his touch.

Each soft whimper and moan that fell from her lips as he touched her only stirred up his desire for her even more, by the time his hands have caressed every inch of Honey’s body he is stiff and ready for her again. Not wanting to waste any time he pulled her back against him, lowering her onto him inch by inch until he's completely engulfed by her walls. She's still drenched for him and it barely takes more than a few deep and precise thrusts into her inviting heat before he's bottoming out again, groaning her name with pleasure as he empties himself within her walls. He grins when Honey grabs his free hand and slips it between her legs. His fingers soaked the moment he touches her and he knows that this won't last very long.

His name tumbled from her plump lips for the third time that afternoon and Honey knew that all hope of her finishing any of her work was no longer possible. She didn’t mind, however, as she crawled out of Taehyung's lap and he pulled her into his arms right away, kissing every inch of skin available to him. Chest to chest and legs entangled together, they exchange light and tender kisses as Taehyung gingerly runs his fingers over her hair and they whisper overly cheesy compliments to each other before the pull of sleep calls Tae and he's yawning and nodding off making Honey grin and press a kiss to his cheek before cuddling up against his chest. Honey loved being with Tae for many reasons; he was an attentive, generous lover who was never hesitant about trying something new but if she was honest, she would have to admit that this had always been her favourite part of their lovemaking. The quiet after the storm when they're both completely spent and wrapped up in one another both physically and mentally, discussing whatever asinine topic popped into their heads. 

It didn't take much longer for her eye's to grow heavy and eventually shut down completely; she tried to fight it knowing that she had work to complete but three orgasms nearly back to back would take a lot out of anyone. It's well after midnight when Honey feels her skin being caressed and a pair of lips touching the space of her neck next to her shoulder.

"Tae, go back to bed" She grumbled and blindly swatted at the pair of hands in her hair, making the owner of those hands chuckle softly, pull back and press his lips against hers.

"Wrong boyfriend."

"Joonie?" Honey mumbled and cracked one of her eyes slightly open, She was met with the sight of Namjoon smiling at her with a dopey grin that made his dimples grow deep. It had been years since he'd first smiled at her like that and it still filled her with warmth inside whenever he did. "What time is it. Are you just getting home?"

"It's late," Namjoon nodded as he stood up to shuck the windbreaker he was wearing off his shoulders, he let fall to the ground and quickly moved to unbuckle his belt, "I got caught up at work, I tried calling both of you but no one picked up." He seasoned his words with a playful judgemental look while kicking his jeans off his feet and joining Honey underneath the sheets. The size of the California King bed was large enough to accommodate all three of their bodies with some space left over though throughout the middle of the night Honey usually ended up sleeping directly on top of one of them to conserve warmth while the other (usually Tae) hogged the covers.

Honey grinned and draped her arm over Namjoon once he settled next to her, her head and upper body moved to rest against her chest making Taehyung; who was still cuddled against her back, stir and shift positions but not wake up. "Ah, yes. Well, I've been writing most of the day and when Tae came home we got a bit distracted..."

Namjoon chuckled and ran a hand down Honey's side, pausing for a second to gentle squeeze her thigh before turning his head to the side "He's a poor influence on you."

"You think you're any better?" Honey countered with a sly grin. Their eyes met and like moths are drawn to a flame they both gravitated toward each other and shared a silent but tender kiss, it was late and there was no way they'd be able to do anything without waking up Taehyung who was still snoring peacefully on the other side of the bed. Namjoon was the first to pull back and gently caress Honey's cheek, drawing her head down so he could kiss her forehead and then press her head back to his chest.

"You should get some sleep, Honey," He breathed, his thumb and index finger massaging her neck.

Honey only nodded, quickly pressing a kiss to Namjoon's jaw before settling completely against him and allowing the heavy blanket of slumber to wash over her once again.

[searchingforbucky]

The Research Paper ✎

Chapter: The Final Stretch

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: I think theres one curse word, procrastination, panicking, crying, cute Bucky, getting distracted.

A/N: Wow, heres the second chapter of my secret Santa fic! This started as just a fun little story to write, and now its turned into a multi chapter story that I'm having a great time writing, and people are actually liking it? Amazing! This chapter may be a little choppy because of the small time jumps, but I hope its not too bad. Also, I feel like there may not be enough Bucky, if you want more, please let me know! :) thank you all again for reading and sharing your thoughts, I love you all 💖

Series Masterlist

On the first night they met, they set up the details and Y/N gave Bucky the rundown on the assignment. In two weeks, the Friday night before finals week, she has to have a 20 page research paper finished and turned in. It was supposed to be focused on World War 2, she decided to focus on the effects that World War 2 had on the economy and workforce, absolutely the most boring topic she could have chosen. But when you’re faced with a deadline speeding at you full force, you panic and make bad decisions.

After airing all of the unfortunate details of this huge project she’s throwing onto him, he stares at her. He’s got this zoned out look to him, and she’s worried he either wasn’t paying attention, or is thinking of all the ways he can kill Steve for asking this of him.

Suddenly, he gets up. Looks around, and walks away.

‘Oh my god’ y/n thinks to herself. ‘He’s really just up and left. Of course he wouldn’t want to help me with this. I mean, I’m asking for 8 hours of his week, he’s not getting paid, he'd have to help me with a basically impossible task, he'd even have to be spend time with me. God now I have no idea what I’m going to do, I’m gonna fail, and flunk out of college, and have to move home with my parents, and live there forever, and end up dying alo-‘

Her spiraling thoughts were interrupted by Bucky coming back with an overwhelmingly large stack of books. He slams them on the table and gives her a proud smile, unaware of her internal meltdown just seconds before.

“Okay, so here are some books that I know will help us with this. This one is about the rise of Market Competition since World War Two, this one is about the globalization of the world economy, this one is about…”

As Bucky continues to talk about all of his findings she can’t help but to focus on him and not his words. She notices how excited he gets when talking about history, how much knowledge he holds not only about these books themselves but the general subject as a whole. And don’t even get her started about how well he must know the library to know exactly where to go. She focuses in on the sparkle in his eyes, the way the lines coming from the corners only grow as he continues to smile about what he knows. Her eyes move down his smile, the way his pink lips perfectly frame his perfect teeth, lips that look so-

“Does that sound okay?” Bucky asks her, looking at her and waiting for an answer.

The pause in him talking and the feel of his stare pulls him out of her wandering thoughts. It quickly runs through her mind that she really needs to get her brain together and focus more, this is the second time she’s done this in like 10 minutes. And then she realizes she has no idea what he just told her.

“I’m sorry can you repeat that?” She inquired, hoping with all of her might that he doesn’t think she’s past the point of helping.

“I was asking if you’d be able to read at least a skim some of these before we meet tomorrow? Just so you can have a small foundation before we get into the fine details of the books later.” He repeats himself.

“Of course, thank you again James. I can’t even begin to explain how much you are saving me. Really, I wouldn’t even know where to start if it wasn’t for your help.” She tells him genuinely, picking up the books, and putting some in her bag.

“Please, call me Bucky. And it’s no problem. Any time I get to talk about history and have people actually listen is a good time to me.” He reassures her gently.

“Bucky,” she says the name and smiles “I like that. Thank you again, I’ll see you tomorrow night. I’ll read as much of these as I can.”

As she walks away, she peeks one last look over her shoulder at Bucky, both giving each other shy smiles.

After one official meeting, their relationship entered a new stage. Under the pretense of “if you have any questions during the times we’re not together, go ahead and text me..” they exchanged numbers. Bucky's heart was racing for about an hour after he asked successfully without stuttering. Steve would be so proud.

She would text him when she was on her way, or ask if he wanted anything extra from the coffee shop, saying that just a black coffee is gross and he MUST have something to counterbalance the dirt. He would ask her to text when she got home safely, worrying about her walking home in the dark. It was nice. It was becoming a routine neither want to end.

Then, after two more meetings, worried about her progress, and only having about a week left, he suggests meeting every day. Not at the same set times, just whenever they can, in order to make sure she gets the best grade possible. Which is what he convinces himself is why he asks, it’s not that he wants to see her more. Absolutely not. Well… maybe just a little.

The first day of their new schedule they meet at a different time. They both have a break in their classes and work, and they decide to meet in the quad. It’s a nice day out, and according to her, she won’t be able to spend every day in the library without feeling restless.

While waiting at an empty bench, Bucky sees Y/N walk across the lawn. She’s practically being haloed by the sun, Bucky thinks it’s cliche to say she looks kind of ethereal…but it’s not a wrong statement. And he looks a bit further down to see surprisingly that in her hand she carries two bags of food. When she finally reaches him and sets one down in front of him, he thinks he might have fallen in love right then and there.

With that bag of food, a new tradition is created for the next week. Every day, at whatever time of day they can, when they meet, one of them brings food. They both try to convince themselves it strictly a study date, and they both try not to focus too hard on the word “date”.

The fastest way to the heart is through the stomach they say.

It’s 3 days before the paper is due, and Y/N is losing concentration, motivation, and most importantly the ability to not be distracted by the enigma that is Bucky Barnes.

They’re in the library, books sprawled out in front of them. Y/N is typing, while Bucky looks over her notes, making sure what she’s saying is accurate. They sit in a comfortable silence until...

“Alright, I’m done for the night, my ability to withhold anymore information is gone.” Y/N states as she frantically shuts her laptop. Leaning on the table to focus on Bucky.

“Y/N… it’s been 20 minutes.” Bucky chides

“Exactly! Too long, tell me about yourself?”

“Y/N, I really want you to get a good grade on this. My reputation is on the line too you know?” He smirks at her.

She sighs “...fine, how about an hour in, we take a break and you answer my questions!” She tries to bargain.

“You know pretty much everything. You always ask me questions when you’re bored. Besides, there’s not much to know, I’m boring anyways.” He says, getting quieter towards the end.

She stares at him for a second, feeling a small pinch in her heart hearing him say that, “You’re not boring, I think you’re really interesting Bucky. Coolest guy I’ve ever been lucky enough to meet.” She says with a small smile.

Bucky blushes and looks away, “yeah, yeah, just get back to work. No need to butter me up, I’m already helping you.” He jokes, but she can still see the dorky smile he’s trying to hide. He’s not as stealthy as he thinks.

It’s 1 day before the paper is due and Y/N is stressed out. It’s one of those times where the full weight of the situation doesn’t hit you until it’s too late. This is her last year, and if she doesn’t pass this class? She’s screwed. She’s scared. She’s terrified that her lack of planning will lead to her academic downfall. Being one step away from full blown panic, she goes to the person she trusts most. And right now? That’s Bucky. Her knight in shining history books.

She knows he’s working, but she can’t help it. She needs him.

Walking into the library, she sees him. Sitting there, reading at his desk, looking as calm as she’s ever seen him. And she realizes that all she’s done in the past two weeks is stress him out, she can’t do it again, not now. Not when he looks like that, She’s ready to turn around and go have a good cry at home, it helps...honestly, when the man of the hour looks up.

Bucky smiles at her, excited to see her again, when he notices the tears in her eyes. He gets up immediately and walks around his desk to reach her.

When he puts his hands on her shoulders, she breaks. It’s like every mental wall she’s out up to stop herself from losing it just vanishes. She leans into his chest, with her hands covering her face, and he wraps his arms around her and pulls her behind his desk to set her in his chair. While kneeling in front of her, he takes her hands in his, and urges her to look at him

“Hey, sweetheart, what’s wrong. You gotta tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it.” He pleads, hating seeing her like this.

“I can’t do it Bucky. It’s too much, it’s never gonna get done, and I can’t do it. I’m just not capable! Even with your help there’s no way I can be saved. I’m hopeless.” She cried through hiccups.

His heart hurt for her. In these past weeks he’s gotten to know her well, he knows how much she cares about her school, and he knows how much this project is worth. He’s not letting this get the best of her. Over his dead body.

“Hey, now you listen to me. You are not hopeless, you are one of the smartest people I’ve ever met, and this paper is not gonna bring you down. We’re almost done, all we need to do is edit and finalize it. That’s it. We have a little over 24 hours, that is completely doable. Don’t doubt yourself. You can do this.” He says while running his thumb over her knuckles soothingly “I’ll tell you what. I get off in 20 minutes, and I don’t have classes tomorrow, so let’s sit down and just blow through this editing. We can knock it out tonight, however long it takes, and then you won’t have to worry about it anymore.”

“I can’t ask you to do that Bucky, it’s not fair to ask even more of you.” She says softly.

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re not asking. Now, I don’t know why you’re sitting there, you still haven’t gotten our ceremonial coffee, and we’re definitely going to need it tonight.” He says with a wink, while walking away to finish all he needs to do before clocking out.

She stands there for a second, smiling to herself, wondering how she got so lucky to be able to know a guy like Bucky Barnes. She needs to thank Steve.

It’s late into the night, morning technically, and the duo are I the 24 hour study room. They’re not alone, there are many other students considering it’s right before finals week. But somehow, in their little corner with coffee, snacks, and a big blanket from Y/Ns car, it feels like they’re the only ones around.

They both have their laptops open, and are going the the document paragraph by paragraph, editing, rewriting, and making sure it flows.

Bucky looks over, getting ready to ask if the sentence should contain a semicolon or a comma when he sees her, cheek against the table, sleeping like she has no care in the world.

He should be mad, irritated that she isn’t up and working like he is. But all he can think is that she looks so beautiful when she’s sleeping. He wonders if they had more time, if they would end up sleeping together…IN A BED, he yells at himself internally. He’s glad she’s not awake, or else she’d see the blush rise on his face, and she wouldn’t let it go unless she knew why it was there.

After staring at her for a few moments longer, trying to memorize her features, he decides to keep working. He’ll work through the night any day if it kept her happy and stress free. It’s only a small price to pay to see her smile.

So he straightens up, steals her coffee, and gets to work. She’s gonna get this A if it kills him.

At 5:37 am Bucky is finished. He’s read that paper at least 3 times, and it’s the best he can get it to be. He hopes that’s enough.

He taps Y/Ns shoulder, and she wakes with a start.

“Wha-what’s up, sorry, fell asleep there for a second. Sorry.” She mumbled, rubbing her eyes.

“Don’t worry, it’s not a big deal. But it’s finished, your paper is officially ready to be turned in.” He says to her with a proud, albeit sleepy smile.

She stares at him in shock “h-how long was I asleep? Bucky you should have woken me up! I feel terrible now!” She exclaims, panicking about him doing so much work while she slept.

“Hey,” he puts his hand on her arm reassuringly, “it’s okay, I chose to do this, and it wasn’t even that much work. All it was, was editing. Besides, you need sleep more than I do. Now, no more apologies, no more feeling bad, let’s turn this baby in and go home and get some real sleep!”

She smiles so large, he can feel it in his own cheeks, and in that moment he knew it was worth it. To see her smile like that, he’d make the same decision every day of his life.

She goes onto her submission portal, drops the file, and presses submit. They both breath a huge sigh of relief. It’s done. Now they can focus on their other classes. Now, now they don’t have to hang out every day. Both deflate a little at the thought.

As she packs up she says, “Thank you so much for helping me Bucky. I owe you so much, I wouldn’t have been able to get this done without you, not by a long shot.”

“You would have been able to do it no problem, you’re not giving yourself enough credit. I just have reassurance, you did all of the work.” He says with a smile as they come to a stop at the door.

As they stand there staring at each other, she takes a deep breath, steeling herself for the next sentence she doesn’t want to say. “Well, thank you again Bucky. You can’t convince me that you didn’t save me… I guess this is it. I won’t need to bother you every day anymore.” She says with a sad smile.

“What if I like you bothering me every day?” He mumbles while looking anywhere but her.

“Well, then expect to see me here Monday on your lunch break, I need someone to make me study for all of my other finals.” She smiles, trying to keep her smile from taking up her whole face, but failing miserably.

“Goodbye Y/N.” He says with a laugh while walking out the door. Smiling like an idiot. He can’t wait for Monday. 

A/N: Thank you all for reading!! This is going to have about 2-3 more chapters, and in that time we will learn a little more about Bucky, and maybe even see some....angst? we shall see!

Tags: @bucky-smiles @thebookwormslytherin @rogvewitch​ @itsametaphorbriansblog​ @93generation​

[northsouth12]

How to actually do goals according to science

Every year I kind of sort of commit to some ~New Year’s Resolutions~ and every year I kind of sort of make progress on them. This year I was diagnosed with depression and that led to me doing a bunch of research on how brains work and working with a therapist (bless them) to learn how to be kinder to myself. 

In 2021 I’m setting goals again, but also approaching my goal setting with a different, more compassionate, and more informed mindset. I think I’ve done a pretty good job of setting myself up for success and I wanted to put it out there a) because I learned public sharing helps with goal achievement and b) in case this information/plan could help anyone else. So if you are also tired of making aspirational lists of all the stuff you’re going to do with nothing to show for it, come on over!

PEOPLE WHO KNOW MORE THAN ME

For quick and easy learning, I recommend the following podcasts/websites, from where I have drawn most of this information:

(1).  VOLITIONAL PSYCHOLOGY with Dr Joseph R Ferrari, Ologies podcast ( 1:05:56, transcript and notes on website). A podcast interview explaining what procrastination is and what we can do about it. Also be nice to yourself.

(2). FEAROLOGY with Mary Poffenroth, Ologies podcast (1:13:49, transcript and notes on website). A podcast interview explaining how stress is equivalent to fear and how to interrupt our body’s stress response to regain our health and sanity.

(3). “Golden Rules of Goal Setting” on MindTools.com. A website covering most of the actually scientifically backed goal setting advice without a lot of life coach BS.

(4). My therapist. Credit where credit is due, they are a godsend. I highly recommend these conductors of light.

BASICS OF GOAL ACHIEVEMENT

For people who hate reading, here are the spark notes. There’s more information and tips in the long version, but I understand that some people put together IKEA furniture without looking at the directions.

Use the SMART method to write goals:

Specific - well defined and clear how to accomplish

Measurable - precise definition of success

Attainable - doable but still challenging

Relevant - aligned with personal values

Time-bound - must have a deadline

Put goals in writing. Use “I will” rather than “I want to” and frame statements positively.

Write down why specifically you want to achieve each goal.

Make an action plan breaking goals into individual steps. Break tasks into smaller and smaller chunks until you get to a place you can make progress. No judgement, just move the bar until you can move forward.

Schedule regular check-ins to evaluate your progress.

Post goals and progress publicly.

Incentivize achievement.

Surround yourself with doers rather than (fellow) procrastinators.

ABOUT SUCCESS AND FAILURE

If you can achieve 80% of your goal, that is success. In fact, happiness peaks at 85% success and 15% failure. People feel happier failing a bit because then their goal feels challenging and worthwhile.

YOU WILL FAIL. It will happen. It is okay. Focus instead on how you will react and grow from your failure.

“Stress” and “fear” are effectively the same thing. Recognize and own your fear; don’t be ashamed of it. It is a natural response. Also, recognizing your stress as a fear response helps you determine the root cause, and then address it, or even use it as a growth opportunity. Successful people freely use the word “fear”.

For many procrastinators, their fear of failure also includes a fear of success. You are afraid to do the work because you are afraid of not being good enough. These people (me) are practicing “social esteem protection” - thinking that if I don’t finish a task, I can attribute it to a lack of effort rather than a lack of ability because it’s a “time management” issue. It’s not. Time management is a myth, and the end result is that you are letting down the same people you want so badly to like you.

Procrastination is a learned behavior, which means that you can unlearn it. The best way is through CBT (cognitive behavioral therapy) to reprogram your thinking for people who have a persistent issue with procrastination.

Forgive yourself for your failures the way you would forgive other people.

HOW TO SET GOALS STEP-BY-STEP

Sorry this section is long, but it turns out a lot of the keys to success in achieving goals starts with actually writing them properly. Who knew?

Set a deadline. The traditional New Year’s Resolution is supposed to last through the end of the year, but I’ve found that is too long a span. I end up procrastinating because “there’s so much time left” until there’s not and then “it’s too late to start now”..... So now I’m setting my goals seasonally: four sets of three months. My deadline for winter goals is March 21st, the Spring Equinox. As part of my public accounting, I have told everyone this, including a bunch of internet strangers.

Also key for us procrastinators is setting a start date. I gave myself a week to write my goals and make my action plan. I have to keep track of my progress starting Monday.

Determine your priorities and set limits. You cannot do everything, no matter how much you want to (procrastinator, remember?). Looking for layout inspiration on Pinterest I came across so many bujo people with 8 million goals on their page layout. That’s not happening. Remember that your goals are meant to create positive change and a sense of accomplishment, NOT cause more anxiety. So make limits. How do we do this? 

Make a big list of aspirations first. You can do this by identifying your personal values and generating ways to emphasize those more in your life. You can make a list of everything that you’re afraid of (aka causes you stress) and then think about ways to address or confront those fears. For example if getting a bunch of work emails into your personal inbox every weekend ruins your Saturday, aspire to set some work/personal life boundaries! Or maybe you have something you’ve always wanted to do, like learn a language or set time aside for a hobby. Put it on the list.

Now you have to edit the list. You can keep it to refer back to for the next round of goals, but choose out the top priorities for the next three months. To help you do this, refer back to your personal values, or just ask yourself “why do I want to do this?” If the answer is because someone else thinks you should, nix it. This is for you and only you. I originally chose 8 priorities, and then cut it again to 6 aspirations total - keep the plan simple and manageable to set yourself up for success. Remember, 85% success is what we’re aiming for. I also tried to choose a mix of difficulty levels of the individual aspirations (exercising = freaking hard; keeping a gratitude log = pretty easy) so that I might get some early wins and momentum.

I also recommend that at least one priority is just something you know will make you happy. We all need to set aside time and energy for ourselves, and to stop feeling ashamed about doing stuff that makes us happy. What the actual f**k. Choose one thing you love -- reading, baking, petting animals, being outside -- and make it an official goal to do it more often. NO JUDGMENT.

Okay, now to format your priorities into achievable goals. You are going to take each one of those aspirations and put it into an “I will” statement with a quantifiable definition of success. For example, my aspiration to “sleep more” became “I will follow a bedtime routine for 21 days straight.” You want to make sure your statement is framed positively (rather than “I will not eat junk food”, try “I will eat healthier snacks”). Also think again about making your goal challenging but achievable. I did not write “I will sleep 6 hours a night” because I can’t control that. I chose 21 days straight as my success measure because I anticipate I’ll fall off the horse a few times before I get a successful streak, and three weeks would be good progress for me. Another thing you can do is use ranges like “I will pick up 1 - 5 items in my room each day.” This is a bit of a mind game where the low end of the range is easily achievable so you have no excuse not to do it. Often once you get started, you might find that you have energy for 5 items after all.

Now that you have your goalposts set up, write down those “whys” you thought about when you were choosing them. Recording why you want to do this specifically is helpful for your motivation as time passes and further clarifies your goal.

As we’ve learned, accountability helps! For each of your goals, write down how you will share your progress. I’ve asked different people to check in with me about my sleep and exercise routines. I’m reporting about my ongoing issues with procrastinating on my schoolwork to my therapist each week. For my goal to read more books, I’m posting a picture of each book I finish on my Instagram. And for my goals to keep a gratitude log and consume news in a healthier way, I’ve decided I can hold myself accountable. In addition, I’m using my journal to keep track of my progress towards all six goals.

Set a reward for each goal. This could be anything from a pack of your favorite chocolates for completing an easy goal to giving yourself permission to buy that sweater you’ve really wanted for achieving a super challenging goal. I am also trying out having bonus rewards such as a small reward for an 11-day streak on my sleep goal to give me a push of momentum. For my hardest/most important goal I also decided to do a “stretch goal” like with Kickstarter where I get a reward for overachieving. So maybe I went a little reward crazy, but we’ll see how it goes!

Finally, for each goal write down the actions you’ll need to take to achieve it. For me this is stuff like “draft a bedtime routine and share it” and under that, I plan to research by “listen to somnology podcasts” and “read sleep solution book”.

HOW TO MAKE PROGRESS

Whew, you made it through writing the goals and now you are set up for success! Here’s a few more tips to keep things moving.

Now that you’ve got your goals all set up, share them with the world! (Or at least the people you’ve decided to help keep you accountable). Sharing goals and progress publicly is proven to increase our likelihood to achieve them.

If you’re a journaler, make a nice goals layout and a tracker for your progress. I did not find good examples for achieving goals in a scientific way when I looked for inspiration on Pinterest. If there is a journaler out there who read all the way to the end of this post and made a nice layout, please share your artistry. My “layout” is just a list. :/

Surround yourself with doers. If you have trouble motivating yourself (me), ask a friend to pair up with you. I am doing a remote master’s degree. It is not going well. However, setting up a regular Zoom “work date” with a friend who is currently working from home has forced me to sit down and look at my schoolwork on a regular basis.

Schedule regular check ins to evaluate your progress and write them down! I have a combination of check-ins with my “accountants” as well as a plan to review my goal progress every Sunday when I plan my week. This is written on my to-do list on each Sunday to make sure I do it.

Go forth and conquer! And remember, failure is a fact of life and does not make you a bad person. It just means you are learning more about how to set your goals for next time!

[blurry-fics]

Chapter Twelve

Where Did We Go | Series Masterlist

Warnings: Angst, angry!Tyler

Word Count: 2049

Author’s Note: Happy Valentine’s Day! I hope you enjoy this chapter today :) (picture credit)

I idly drew doodles in the margins of my notepad as the team droned on about some matter that didn’t really concern me. My head was so heavy on my hand that I knew it would leave a mark when I finally pulled away, but I didn’t care. Next to me, Josh actually seemed to be paying attention, but he was still drumming his fingers on the table. I liked the beat.

Another song lyric floated through my brain, so I quickly wrote it down beneath the others before it got away from me. Lately, it felt like the only thing these meetings were good for was coming up with fragments of song lyrics and making my throat sore. Nothing else productive ever seemed to get done.

“We got the visuals back from the artists. I have some stills here, but you should all be receiving an email tonight with the full videos for review.”

Now this actually seemed interesting. I scribbled down the words “visual review” in the corner of my page, ripped it off, and stuck it into my pocket. Nobody seemed to notice.

“We think that the visuals are adequate, but not exactly as we intended.”

We?

“And as a result, we’re thinking about cutting the payment of the artists. This will also save us some room in the budget to put elsewhere.”

I leaned forward in my chair. People’s eyes immediately went to me, anticipating what I was about to say.

“Cutting the artist’s pay? How do we know if their work is ‘adequate’ or not if my team hasn’t even had a chance to do a full review?”

“Well our artistic board-”

“Exactly, your artistic board. Last time I checked, your artistic board isn’t the one putting on a show,” I said. “And no matter how we feel about the visuals, the artists did the work and deserve full payment for their time and effort.”

“But they didn’t deliver-”

“They did. The visuals were done to the best of their ability and provided by the deadline that we gave them. We’re giving them full payment and my team can decide whether the work is satisfactory or not.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Joseph, but then we’re going to have to raise ticket prices to make up for the losses.”

“What is all this crap about raising ticket prices?” My voice was getting louder now. “We gave you the budget months ago! Everything was laid out with enough money to cover all costs and keep ticket prices exactly where we wanted them, but your company decided to put things off until it didn’t work anymore.” Josh reached out and put a hand on my back. My shoulders relaxed, but my voice remained raised. “Our fans are not in charge of paying the price for your poor choices. That art looks fantastic and, if I’m being honest, the only people here that aren’t delivering satisfactory work is you.”

I stood up then, sending my chair flying out behind me. Josh’s hand fell away from my back. I turned on my heel and headed for the door, still fuming.

“Where are you going?” someone asked. I couldn’t place the voice.

“I’m taking a break. I’ll be back in ten.”

I walked down the hallway, unsure of where I was going, until I found a sign marked with the stairs. My hands were curled into fists at my side until my nails were digging into my palms. It had been a long time since I was this angry, but the stupidity of the company we had chosen to put on this tour was sending me over the edge. Tour was only a week and a half away and it still felt like we had more loose ends than we did answers.

Most of all, I hated that this was what I was missing out on time with my family for.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and immediately dialed Y/N’s number. She would know what to say to get me calm again before I walked back into that conference room. My leg bounced as the phone rang, alleviating only a small portion of the emotions I was feeling. They were quickly getting overwhelming.

“Tyler?” she answered. Just that simple word was enough to release some of the tension in my shoulders.

“Hi, love.”

“What’s going on? Aren’t you supposed to be in a meeting right now?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, “Yes, but it’s not going well. I just blew up on the company representative.”

“Oh no,” she sighed. “What are they trying to get you to do today?”

“Raise ticket prices again! It doesn’t matter how many times I tell them I don’t want to do that, they won’t let it go.”

“Ty, hey, it’s ok. At the end of the day, you still have the power in this situation.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“Is there somewhere else that you can cut costs a little bit? Weren’t you talking about maybe switching out some of the fancier effects for something a little simpler?”

“Yeah, there’s definitely places that we could do it, they just don’t like to listen to those ideas as much. It’s hard to convince them that it would actually help the budget.”

“I know, but it’s worth a shot. It’s like I’ve been saying, you and Josh just need to team up and get your ideas in there. Plus, you have Mark to back you up too. The power is there.”

“I’ll talk to them before the next meeting and really get things solid. I hate to ignore the progress that we are making, but the problems just feel so much bigger right now.”

“You’re going to get this worked out, Ty. I know you will. Think of how much you’ve been through to get here. Even if, at the end of the day, things don’t work out exactly how you want them to, you know people will be happy as long as you’re there singing the songs with them. You were popular even before you had the big productions.”

I sighed. “You’re right. I’ll try to keep that in mind. I just get so wrapped up in this vision that Josh and I created that I forget it’s the music that really matters. Thank you.”

“Of course. I know the show is going to be great no matter what you end up doing.”

“You always know the right thing to say,” I smiled.

“It’s a talent of mine,” she laughed.

“I just wish that I wasn’t stuck at this stupid meeting today.”

“It’s ok, Ty,” she said, but I could tell that her tone had changed. “You’re doing important band stuff. We’ll have a break soon enough.”

“I hope so.”

Our conversation was interrupted by the door to the stairs swinging open. Josh’s head poked through the door, quickly scanning the area. Relief came over his face as soon as he saw me.

“There you are. We need you back in the conference room. Things are happening.”

“Ok, let me finish this up and then I’ll be there.”

Josh nodded and disappeared again, letting the door swing shut behind him. I waited for it to fully close before I started talking to Y/N again.

“Sorry about that. Josh showed up.”

“I heard.”

“Anyway, I guess they need me back there.”

“Time to let you go?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright. I love you, and don’t let them get to you, ok, Ty? I know you can find a way to put on the show you’ve been dreaming about.”

“Thank you, Y/N. I love you too.”

“Bye.”

“Wait.”

“Yeah?”

“Did you remember that I’m going over to my parents’ tonight for dinner?”

“I remember now,” she laughed. It sounded forced.

“Ok.”

“Good luck, Ty.”

“Thanks.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

I ended the call, now feeling a different sort of discomfort in my chest. It took me a moment to finally get off the steps and walk out the door back towards the conference room. My mind was running its endless loop of questions, but no matter where I looked, I came up with no answers. It felt like a weight in my head, dragging me further and further down.

I hadn’t felt that way in a long time.

*     *     *

The meeting finally ended around four that night. There was another one scheduled for the next day - which the company claimed would be the last additional meeting we had to schedule - although after today’s events, I was feeling hopeful. They were finally starting to listen to the ideas that Josh and I had, helped along by the fact that Y/N had given me a new sense of confidence about the show. After a few more emails and phone calls, I was sure that things would finally start coming together.

My mom was the one to open the door when I knocked. She immediately pulled me into a hug, squeezing me tight enough that I nearly coughed. I didn’t blame her, I had only been able to find enough time to see my family once since I had gotten home from tour a week and a half ago, and most of my siblings hadn’t even been around. This time had been a little more planned so that Zack and Maddy would be able to stop by too.

“I’ve missed you so much,” my mom said, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

“I’ve missed you too, Mom.”

I went around and hugged each of my siblings and my dad. It was nice to have everyone together again for a family dinner. The last time we had a get together like this was before the Australian leg of the tour nearly a month and a half ago.

“Dinner is already ready, if you guys want to eat. I made it early since I figured you would be hungry after your meeting, Tyler.”

“Thanks,” I smiled.

Everyone stayed pretty quiet, aside from small talk, as we dished up our food. I was sure that my family was full of questions to ask me, but they knew better than to try and ask before I was settled at the table. Right now, my mind was on food and food only.

We eventually all sat down at the table in the places that we had been assigned since childhood. Once everyone was comfortable and had taken a couple bites of food, the questions slowly began to come out.

“How was your meeting today, Tyler?” my dad asked.

“It was alright. I kind of blew up on the representative today-”

“Tyler,” my mom chimed in. Zack barely concealed a laugh.

“Mom, listen, it’s only because they keep trying to make us raise ticket prices even though we’ve had the budget planned out for weeks. It didn’t matter how many times I told them that wasn’t going to happen, they kept insisting.”

My mom kept a disappointed look on her face, but deep down I could tell that she knew I was right. From day one, she had always made sure that I knew staying true to myself was vital as I continued to pursue music. That advice had stuck with me since.

“Are they starting to listen though?” Maddy asked. “I mean, there’s only like a week and a half until tour starts, right?”

“Yeah, they’re finally coming around. Josh and I have been fighting with them pretty much all week, though. They’re bringing us in for another meeting tomorrow.”

“Another one?” Jay asked.

“They flew Josh in?” Zack chimed in right after.

“Yes and yes. That’s how big of a problem all of this is.”

“Geez,” my dad said. “That sounds intense.”

“It is. I’m barely hanging on by a thread here.”

My mom reached over and reassuringly rubbed my shoulder. “You’re safe here, Tyler. We’re not going to let you fall.”

I quickly glanced around the table to see that the rest of my family was nodding along with my mom. Warmth spread throughout my chest at knowing that they still had my back, even if I couldn’t always make as much time as I wanted to for them. At the end of the day, they were still my family.

We’re not going to let you fall.

*     *     *     *     *

Taglist

@tylersheavydirtysoul @faceofcontvsions @ohprettyweeper @shaytwentyonep @tyler-josephs-floof @angelicopioid​ @topownsmyheart @harishaanne @addictwithaheavydirtycheetah @somethingboutyou1 @boiled-onionrings @heythereitm3 @gaysludge @breadbinishigh​ @5secondsofmoxley​ @patdsinner33​ @littlerachelbee​ @royal-avengers​

[jamesbarnesappreciationsociety]

Jessica Barnes: Jr. CEO (One Shot)

Summary: This is the cutest company takeover in history.

Pairing: CEO Daddy! Bucky Barnes x OC: Jessica Marie Barnes

Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson

Scott Lang and Peter Parker

Word Count: 1,879

Warnings: Angst; fluff

A/N: @stevieang, thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to beta read for me. Your insight is greatly appreciated.

Exquisite Designs, a commercial architectural firm owned by longtime friends James Buchanan Barnes and Steven Grant Rogers, boasted some of New York’s wealthiest clients. For over 17 years, the firm built some of the most elegant office buildings dotting the skyline in New York City.

Their number one client is Stark and Wilson Land Development. The firm was currently working on the Howard and Maria Stark wing of Mt. Sinai hospital" It was a 24-7 project with big deadlines, big pressure, and big payoff. This project held a special place in Bucky’s heart. His wife, Lillian, died from a brain aneurysm, leaving behind an adorable daughter with rich brown hair like her father and hypnotic amber eyes identical to her late mother.

Her frail body lay in the lovely king size sleigh bed. Different hues of blues dotted the sheets, comforter and blanket. Blue is her favorite color. James Buchanan Barnes, held his wife Lillian’s dainty hand. He knew her time on Earth was drawing to an end. Sunken eyes turned towards her husband whispering, “Please promise me, you’ll live for Jess.”

“Don’t know how to do that without you, Doll.” Bucky wiped the steady stream of tears from his face. 

With a faint smile on her face, Lillian Marie Barnes closed her eyes. Shoulders shaking, Bucky sobbed openly, kissing her hand. “I love you, Lillian. I’ll do my best for Jess.”

Steve heard his best friend crying. He then realized, his “Lillie Bug” was gone. Trying to explain to a 3 year old that her mommy was gone, Steve put it this way. “Munchkin’, ya remember when your daddy told ya that mommy would go to sleep forever?” 

Jess nodded ‘yes.’ “Daddy said mommy was Sleeping Beauty, but the Prince couldn’t wake her up. So, she’ll be in Heaven watching out for us. Is she an Angel now, Uncle Stevie?”

“Yeah, Lillie Bug is an Angel.” Jess crawled in her uncle’s lap, “I’m sad.”

“Me too, sweetheart.” Burying her face in Steve’s massive chest, Jess cried herself to sleep. 

Following Lillian’s memorial service, Bucky spiralled into deep depression. No longer able to care for her, Jess mourned the loss of her mommy and daddy. Signing temporary control of Exquisite Designs to his best friend, Bucky sought the nurturing spirit of Lillian’s parents, Raymond and Bethany. They agreed to keep their granddaughter as long as needed. Unable to understand why she wasn’t with her daddy, Jess often cried, becoming clingy. 

Three months later, Steve kicked his friend in the ass, explaining Jess longed for her daddy. Losing her mother had taken a toll on her young life, now she needed him to get it together. 

Realizing Steve was right, Bucky planned a father/daughter vacation to Maui. As you would imagine, Jessica was delighted. Boarding his private jet, the duo made their way to crystal clear water, sugar white sandy beaches, for a chance to reconnect with his daughter. Tucked away in his luggage were photo albums, holding page after page of heartwarming memories.

Sitting in Bucky’s lap, Jess wiped the tears cascading down Bucky’s face. “Daddy, don’t be sad. Mommy is in Heaven. She can see us, just look up.” 

Turning her gaze towards a cloudless sky, Jess baby girl smiled and whispered,“Mommy told me to take care of you.” 

“Thank you Jess. I Iove you so much. Please forgive me for not spending time with you. Your momma was my world. Following her death, life just wasn’t the same. I neglected the one person who needed me the most; YOU!”

“Daddy, it’s okay.” Her face was sincere and her words showed the goodness deep within.

“No baby, it’s not. From now on, I’ll take more time off.” 

Her face lit up like a carnival in the night. “Really?? Yippee!”

Upon returning home, Bucky thought of a wonderful way to honor his wife’s memory. He approached Steve about plans for “The Lillian Marie Barnes Child Care Center.” A free center for all employees of the firm.  Parents could be there at the beginning, middle, and end of the day and didn’t have to worry about their little ones while at work. The age limits were: infants 6 months - 1 years old and children 2- 4 years old. Employees, as you could imagine, were ecstatic. 

Since “The Howard and Maria Stark Children’s Wing” was on schedule, Peter Parker, Director of Marketing, pitched an idea to Bucky. 

Gathered around the spacious cherrywood table were upper management and their executive assistants. Facilitating the meeting, Peter laid out his plans for “Kids Takeover the Firm Day.” “I thought it would be fun to take a day off and let the kids run the company. We’ve worked extremely hard to meet all our deadlines and it’s been accomplished.” Everyone listened attentively.

“Have you decided on a date?” Bucky leaned on the table.

“How about this Saturday? The phone lines won’t be operational just in case one of the kids decides to call out, and our answering service would alert us if they received calls that weren’t caught by one of us.”

Bucky added, “You might be onto something Peter. I’m sure they would love to dress up and  play Junior Executives for a day.”

Nat and Clint’s twins, Mason and Jason, would serve as Jr. Executive Assistants to the Jr. CEO.

Steve agreed, “Jessica should serve as Jr. CEO.” 

Bucky couldn’t believe his ears. “Are you sure? I don’t want any favoritism.”

“She’d make a great Junior CEO!” Wanda’s eyes sparkled.

With this in mind, Bucky suggested taking the remainder of the day off. “Alright, let’s get the ball rolling. I have a little CEO to shop for.”

Bucky made his way to Jessica’s preschool class. She immediately sprinted to his arms.“Hi sweetheart. How’s my girl?” 

“I’m fine daddy. We learned our ABC’s and numbers!” Jess’ smile mimicked that of her mommy’s.  

“What? My goodness you’re smart!”  Bucky kissed  her cheek, nose and forehead before dropping the big news on her.

“Guess what? On Saturday, all the kids of the moms and dads that work for Daddy and Uncle Steve’s company get to be in charge for the day. Uncle Steve has promoted you to Junior Chief Executive Officer - the Big Boss.”You’ve been deemed Jr. CEO.”

Unable to contain her enthusiasm, Jess sprung up on her toes. Pumping her fists in the air, she jumped around declaring, “I’M THE BOSS...I’M THE BOSS!!!”

“Peanut, there’s more to being CEO than just saying you’re the boss. Remember that it’s important to always treat your employees with respect.”

“Okay daddy. I’ll be good.” 

“How about a shopping trip? You’ll need new clothes, a briefcase, and shoes!”  There wasn’t much his girl loved more than going shopping.  She was all in now.

“Let’s go!!!”

TIME FOR WORK

At 8:00 on the dot, decked out in her navy blue “suit” and carrying her briefcase and phone, Jessica Marie Barnes, Jr. CEO, reported for work. 

Natasha’s twins Mason and Jason, donned brown two-piece suits, cream shirts, and brown striped ties. Malachi Rogers sported a gray 3 piece suit, powder blue shirt, and solid tie. Wanda, Scott and Sam’s kids also looked razor sharp, in pastel dress shirts, dark pants, and black patent leather shoes. 

Parents and kids gathered in the small conference room. The kids couldn’t sit still, they were hyped to get the show on the road.

“I must admit, this is the best dressed staff in all of New York.” Bucky beamed, “Jessica, you have the floor.”

“Thank you Mr. Barnes. Good morning. My name is Jessica Barnes but you can call me Jess. It’s time for our morning meeting. Follow me to the small room.” 

Their parents laughed quietly and smiled as they filed out of the room.  How much trouble could 3 and 4 year olds get into? Yikes!

Parents applauded as Jess led her friends to another conference room set-up with breakfast sandwiches, fruit, pastry and juice boxes.

Munching on a sausage and biscuit, Malachi announced, “Okay, folks. We have a lot of work to do. There’s a meeting with people who want something built.” 

One little lady asked, “Mr. Grant, who?”  

Malachi replied, “I dunno let’s make something up.”

One factor forgotten, in the midst of their excitement of the day, the cuteness of the kids, someone forgot what could happen if kids consume copious amounts of S.U.G.A.R.  

Jess, Malachi, Mason and Jason wandered away from the others and ended up in one of the copy rooms. Mason, with wide-eyed wonder, suggested making copies of their faces. How they turned the machine on is one of life’s biggest mysteries. They took turns copying faces, arms and legs. Jason, however, took it one step further. He sat on the machine and took a picture of his bottom. 

Next, a group of 3-year-olds snuck into a few offices with sticky hands, pressing on the keyboards. Yep, they made a mess. 

Not to be left out, Jessica and her gang visited the employee break room. The refrigerator and lower cabinets were raided. They devoured chips, Christmas candy, and cookies leftover from an office meeting. 

Smeared on the pristine white walls were tiny chocolate handprints, water and orange juice got spilled onto the floor, and a few kids ate too much. The room was an absolute MESS.

Mason and Jason tried to clean up the spilled juice throwing paper towels on the floor. Malachi retrieved a mop, attempting to clean up.

Instead, he slipped, face first, soiling his new suit. Jessica, completely flustered, plopped on the floor in tears.

Leave it to the Moms in the room to hear what wasn’t being said.  Natasha and Wanda suddenly looked at each other and sprinted out of the room towards the suddenly-silent children.  They knew that quiet kids equaled disaster and were nauseous at the thought of what they might find.  All the parents ran and converged on the breakroom, stopped cold by what they found.  As they surveyed the damage. Bucky murmured, “What the hell happened in here?”

While he shook his head, most of the parents pulled out their phones to capture the moment.

The state of the room was nothing compared to the tired, messy children who were in varying stages of sugar crashes. Bucky looked at Steve, “We’re going to have to give the cleaning company a major bonus after this weekend. They’re going to think we left a zoo loose in here!”

Understanding the need for parents, as well as kids to recuperate, Steve suggested everyone take an extended weekend. Everyone accepted the gracious offer.  

“Kids Takeover the Firm Day” was a complete success. Jessica Barnes’ reign as CEO had come to an end. Sleeping soundly on her daddy’s black leather office sofa, Jess was visibly exhausted. Kissing her chubby cheek, Bucky moved a strand of hair from her forehead. In that moment, he felt Lillian’s presence. Wiping a wayward tear from his face, Bucky knew his wife would live on through Jessica Marie Barnes, Junior CEO.

Tagging: @stevieang @loricameback @mrsgoodnight @suz-123 @pegasusdragontiger

[irwintry]

Caramel Macchiato

Warnings: swearing, alcohol, mention of drugs

Author’s Note: i’m.... back.... startin’ fresh lol (i was rly hoping there would be more new gif options but oh well)

Word Count: 3.4k

Luke liked the stickers on your laptop. So, after five times of noticing you at the café, he told you.

“I like the stickers on your laptop,” he mumbled, leaning over towards you as he pretended to almost pass you completely. The ceramic coffee mug was burning his hand, but he refused to show any pain in order to remain cool around you.

You grinned. “Thanks.”

He nodded with a smile, and that was it. 

He spent the rest of the afternoon jotting down your quirks: the way you tangled your hands into your hair to keep the strands away from your eyes, the gentle smirk that appeared every time you read something online or in your book that you made you laugh, and lastly, the twitch of your fingers along the dog-eared pages of a novel he knew all too well.

Luke assumed you were a college student, an English major to be exact, and he also figured you liked your eggs scrambled as opposed to sunny-side up. You probably preferred floral-themed scents over pine scents, and you definitely doodled cute animals on your class notes. Truth be told, he didn’t know a thing about you, yet somehow you were so easy to read.

It made him want to create a character solely based around the idea of you.

He had noticed you a few dozen times, though the two of you shared little to no interactions aside from his actions today. His heart raced for a solid four minutes after that. It made him wonder what a full-on conversation with you would feel like. Pure bliss or possibly similar to that time he had a really bad acid trip (he vowed to never try it again).

There were times he caught you at the pharmacy down the road or at the ice cream place by his apartment complex. A part of him wanted to assume you were lactose intolerant but that you loved mint chocolate chip too darn much to give it up. Yet, not once did he say a word.

Luke had plenty of reasons to believe you weren’t significant to his life. For all he knew, you could be a misconnection that decided to not leave him alone. But he refused to forget you, so he kept making his presence as obvious as possible without speaking up. He got used to sharing soft smiles with you, and sometimes, there were subtle head nods– the greeting kind of nod. At least he could identify the fact that you acknowledged him.

You acknowledged him when the customers in line at the café were being obnoxious. With wide eyes and a hand clasped over your mouth to keep you from laughing too hard, your gaze darted to him. He’d laugh too, not because he felt like he had to, but because he was too damn happy to be noticed by you. You also acknowledged him sometimes with a quick wave, though those were saved for the times you two passed each other on the street. You acknowledged him. You saw him.

So, why was it so hard for him to take things a step further?

Well, frankly, Luke had issues talking to a lot of people. He hid behind his glasses and three published novels (which could be hard sometimes when the occasional person recognized him from some online article circa 2016. And, there were times his old professors tried to catch up for coffee on particularly bad-brain afternoons. So, you could say Luke had a hard time staying incognito at all times). He was painfully shy, and he saved his words for pen and paper–– they meant more that way.

You were always in the café before Luke, your books piled high beside you as you scrolled aimlessly on that sad laptop of yours. There was always a crease between your brows, but the next day, Luke couldn’t find that crease. In fact, he couldn’t find you. Maybe you were sick. Maybe you died. Maybe you–

You padded in behind him, wheezing and panting as though it was summer again. Your canvas tote had slipped off of your shoulder after you wedged your way in between the closing door, and your hair... wow, Luke still thought you were fucking cute.

“Run a marathon?” he asked without realizing the words slipped out from between his wide smile.

You would have glared at him if it hadn’t been for the fact that it was him talking to you. Anyone else’s amused expression would have pissed you off. “N-no,” you gasped out, clearly struggling to compose yourself in front of the tall man.

His smile had no issue growing larger as he watched you. He stepped forward in line.

“’s stupid,” you laughed and straightened your spine. “I nearly drowned my body weight in NyQuil last night, so I slept through my alarm which meant that I was gonna be late to beat you here. And, I just couldn’t let that happen.”

Luke almost gasped. “What?”

“Told you,” you mumbled, “stupid.”

He stepped up to the register, greeting the barista he still hadn’t learned the name of despite his consistent coffee schedule. “Small Americano please,” he said, glancing at them and then at you. “What d’ya want?”

You crooked an eyebrow. “What?”

“What do you want?”

“You’re not...”

Luke gave you a soft smile, and you returned it.

“Um...” You leaned forward. “Small Caramel Macchiato for me, please.” You leaned back. “You suck. Thank you.”

He nodded. “Course.” Luke decided that after this, he would definitely start talking to you more.

-

He had seen you a total of three times since the “big” interaction, and not one of those times could he work up enough courage to do what he had done that day at the café. He was neck deep in late publication deadlines, and he had already told two of his old professors that he would come into their classes for a short guest lecture (he couldn’t figure out why he had agreed to that, but it was on a whim, and he felt bad about backing out). Luke didn’t like that people idolized him–– he could hardly figure out how to work a can opener.

Today, your arms were full of Tostitos corn chip bags, and your cheeks were red and puffy. Luke pretended not to notice you at first, so he darted into the next aisle of the CVS to search for his granola. Unfortunately for him, you also needed granola.

“Oh, thank fuck you like Bear Naked, too,” you said as you approached him on his left. “Don’t know what I’d do if you chose KIND. Probably die I guess.”

Luke chuckled at you, but your appearance kept distracting him. You had been crying, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know why. He glanced at the chips that were cradled in your arms.

You noticed his gaze and let out a quick sigh. “My boyfriend and I go through these chips like they’re frickin’ crack, I swear. I-it was my turn to buy them.”

All Luke could do was nod. His heart had plummeted when you mentioned your boyfriend, and it only fell more when your voice faltered. Luke didn’t want to assume anything, but he wondered if that was the reason you had been crying in the first place.

“Um,” you muttered, backing up a bit. “Good t’see you. I’ll catch you later?”

“You gonna be all right?” Luke asked. Again, his own voice shocked him. He began fiddling with the zipper on his granola package.

Your frown deepened. “Yeah, I’m– uh, I’m fine. Thanks.”

He nodded once more. It was when you started to walk away from him that he said, “lemme know if ya need a coffee pick-me-up.”

“Nuh uh,” you replied smugly. “I owe you. ‘If the sun were to die and all life on earth suddenly ceased,–‘ “

“’–the light in your eyes would never gray until the day I repay the favors you gifted me,” he interrupted, and for a good reason at that. You had quoted his book.

Your entire face lit up. This also caused you to nearly drop the three bags of Tostitos corn chips. “You know Luke Hemmings!?” you exclaimed as you rushed back over to the blond.

Luke bit his bottom lip to keep from laughing too loud. It would be easy to reveal himself right then and there, but where was the fun in that? “A lil bit. Not really though.” He shrugged and stuffed his free hand in his tight jean pocket.

The shock on your face had yet to leave, and this excited him. You weren’t even starstruck– you didn’t know who you were talking to! You were just happy, and that made him happy. “But you know of him. Oh my, God. Like, no one knows of him.”

Ouch.

“You literally have no idea how much this means to me,” you continued. “My professors are like, his biggest fans. They constantly talk about him and his achievements, and I would give anything to be more like him.”

“What?” Luke said, and a little too high-pitched at that. “Are you a writer, too?”

You shook your head, then you nodded, and then you shrugged. “I try to be. I’ll never be as good as him, but– “

“But you shouldn’t strive to be like someone else,” he responded. He was honestly just amazed that you were here unknowingly complimenting him. “What makes your writing unique is that it’s written by you.”

You smiled. The pink-tint of your cheeks had faded a bit since he first saw you. “Spoken like Luke Hemmings himself. Did you know him or something?”

Luke really wanted to say something, but a part of him chose to hold the information back. He didn’t want that to be the reason you continued talking to him. “I had a class with him once.”

“WHAT?”

He shuffled backward, his hand landing over his heart as he registered the volume that you had somehow managed to get to. He wasn’t positive a small human like you could reach that decibel level.

“Sorry, sorry,” you mumbled shyly, “but, are you fucking kidding me?”

He shook his head.

“Can you tell him that I want to frickin’ marry him?”

Luke nearly choked on his saliva. “S-sure,” he chuckled out breathlessly. He could say something right there. Would you believe him?

“I– “ The phone in your pocket began to ring. “Shit, gotta go.” You started to walk away, except you weren’t turning around. You pointed a finger at him as you said, “I owe you. Coffee’s on me tomorrow. Kay? Buh-bye!”

Luke let out a long, deep breath. His insides were churning, almost as if he was sick with the stomach flu. Could anyone really be this happy? Yes, they truly could.

-

He expected to see you the next day, but he didn’t. A week and two days passed before you rushed into the café behind him once again. Everything was typical, everything was normal... except it wasn’t. Your smile wasn’t as bright, though you did offer to pay for his coffee. And when the barista said Luke’s name, you weren’t even fazed. Your mind was too distracted to notice the person standing in front of you was the very person you gushed over a week ago.

You sat at his table without even asking. Before he could say a word, you pressed your face onto your giant textbook and wailed quietly. Your palms were flat against the table as slow breaths escaped your distressed body.

He didn’t quite know what to do or say, but it seemed like you realized that. A second later, your head shot up, and you dried the tears that had managed to spill while you were rested against the large Econ book.

“’m gonna be eating Tostitos alone now,” you whimpered.

Somehow, Luke understood that.

You groaned, slamming your head back onto the rented textbook before resting your chin on it to look up at him. “I saw it coming! I saw it coming but I’m fuckin’ sad.”

“You’re allowed to be sad.”

“I know, it’s just– “ you sighed, rubbing your eyes. “A whole damn year of my life. And I’m sad but I’m not...”

“Heartbroken?” Luke hadn’t been through a break up in a long time, so he didn’t really know what to think. He just knew that he wanted you to be happy with him.

You shrugged. “I guess.”

So, he shrugged, too. “Maybe you wanted it to happen.”

That was when you nodded and said, “I think I did.”

Two minutes later, you collected your things and left without a goodbye.

-

Luke went out for a bit of ice cream that night. His heart hurt a bit, especially after his interaction with you earlier in the day. It had been surreal for a while– the idea that you would never feel the same way about him, but now it was hitting him hard. He was all too focused in the movement of your hands and the joy in your voice when you spoke, and it never occurred to him that you could enjoy his company without feeling something. He felt pathetic.

So, he assumed a small cup of Moose Tracks would cheer him up.

And then, he noticed you in the corner, a hysterical mess over your empty milkshake cup. He really could not escape you. If he wanted to get over his feelings, he would have to never, ever leave his apartment... ever. But he couldn’t leave you like this, not in the drunken state you were in. He wanted to make sure you would get home safely.

So, he asked, “can I get you home safely?”

You had been staring at the TV behind him, reacting to everything the Star Trek characters said even though the volume was down and the closed captions were on. And, you were still crying, though none of the customers (or employees for that matter) cared. At least he cared.

You grinned through the waterfall of tears flowing down your cheeks. You looked a little bit like a raccoon, but a cute raccoon nevertheless. “Luke Hemmemememmings!” you exclaimed, taking his free hand in yours. “My savior! My milkshake is a-all gone!” You began to pout, but you had stopped crying.

He wasn’t going to ask you how you knew it was him despite being curious. That wasn’t his goal right now. “Come on, darlin’. I’ll get you another soon.”

You gasped as he stood you up. “Luke Hemmemmemmings called me darling!” You beamed up at him before unexpectedly cuddling into his chest. You raced out of the small shop a quick second later, him hot on your tail to make sure you wouldn’t accidentally run into traffic.

Luke didn’t like this side of you. He liked when you smelled of fresh flowers, not of alcohol.

“Lu, Lu!” you shouted through the quiet night. The town had already put up the holiday lights, and though he admired the way they reflected in your eyes, he didn’t like your dull, glazed over expression. “Chri-mas! ‘m gonna get you a big gift this year.”

“C’mon, darling,” he said, taking your arm while you chewed lazily on the straw of your empty milkshake cup. “Lead the way. Wanna make sure you get home okay.”

You leaned into him again, and he assumed it was for warmth, not because you maybe liked the close proximity. “Love of my fuckin’ life,” you whispered into his puffy jacket. “Can I try your glasses on?” You tripped slightly over the curb, but he caught you.

“Briefly,” he answered as he slipped them off with his right hand. “I use them to see.”

Your smile grew. “Really? Thought you used them to make you look more handsome,” you murmured singingly.

Luke’s brain chose to ignore that, but his heart didn’t. His chest physically hurt because of how fast his heart was beating. And his cheeks, though crazy chilly, were definitely beet red.

“How do I look?” you asked, your goofy smile somehow growing even bigger if that were possible. You hadn’t cried since you saw him walk in the ice cream shop.

He chuckled. You looked real damn cute, so he said, “real damn cute.”

That made you giggle.

Your apartment was just down the block from his, and you let him lead you up the stairs so he could say goodnight in the warmth. He didn’t expect you to invite him in, but he did have to use the bathroom, so he gladly accepted your invitation.

Everything had a place in your apartment. Your bathroom sink was neatly organized, and your towels were folded evenly in a basket by the shower. It even smelled like roses, and that drove him slightly wild. You were too perfect, but he was too head over heels, and you were too drunk tonight.

“Lu!” you shouted gleefully as he stepped out of the bathroom. You latched yourself onto him, arms around his shoulders so you could nuzzle your face into his neck. He took a moment to reciprocate the hug, letting his own arms meet around your waist as he pulled you closer. He tried to stop thinking about how well you fit against him. And then, you pulled away. For that split second, he craved your touch again, but you hadn’t read his mind in the right way. You pressed your cold lips onto his, and everything about the kiss was stiff and wrong. You were too intoxicated.

He pushed you away gently by the hips. The frown that etched its way onto his lips only pulled itself deeper down his cheeks. Luke wanted you, but not like this.

“I’m– “ you hiccupped and fell back against the hallway wall. “’m so sorry.”

All he could do was nod. “You gonna be okay?” He wasn’t going to be. You had kissed him, but he couldn’t make note of your intentions.

You nodded, too.

“I’ll see you soon,” he said as he made his way towards the door.

“My name’s Y/N.”

He hadn’t even been aware that he didn’t know your name. He smiled at you and opened your front door, “night, Y/N.”

-

“Caramel Macchiato,” he said, setting it down onto the table before you. “Just how you like it.”

Luke noticed you at your normal table, sat the way you always chose to sit: your knees pressed against your chest as you read a book he saw you reading three months prior. You looked good, almost too good for someone who had been in an almost complete mental breakdown a week beforehand. But maybe you were that good at pretending. Or, maybe you truly were okay.

You gasped, gazing up at him with the prettiest eyes he had ever seen. He had seen your eyes plenty of times, and most often they were full of anguish and pain, but not today. Today, you appeared genuinely happy to see him. “Stop doing nice things for me,” you mumbled as a smile grew on your cheeks. “I only act like a complete and total idiot around you.”

He shrugged as he took his place in the seat across from you. “You’re fine, darlin’.”

You chuckled. “Darling. Hey, I’m sorry– a-about the other night. I was fucked, and you just– “

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” you said before moving your books to the opposite end of the table. This gave you the opportunity to lean your elbows onto the wooden surface. “I kissed you, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t– I don’t act like that, but you just... are so pretty.”

Luke raised an eyebrow, and he nearly failed at remaining cool and composed as a stinging blush spread up his chest and onto his cheeks. “How– how’d you know who I was?” he questioned, peering out the window briefly. When he looked back at you, your features tightened into a confused expression, but they relaxed soon after.

“Oh, I– uh... I had my suspicions. I looked you up right away.” You shrugged. “I just knew I’d meet you. I’m still kinda embarrassed I said all of those things. You probably think I’m a big dork, huh?”

He shook his head. “No,” he laughed. “I would call you a big dork because of other things, but not because of that. I was actually flattered. It really made me feel good.” Aside from the fact that you admitted that no one knew him. He wouldn’t mention that.

“That makes me really happy,” you mumbled into your sweater-covered hands. The dark green brought out the many colors in your eyes. “And, I’m for sure attracted to you for more reasons other than the fact that you’re Luke Hemmings, but– “

“What?”

“What?”

Luke grinned. “You’re attracted to me?”

“What?” you repeated, and this time, he could tell you were blushing. “Me? No, no, no, never said that.” You hid further into your hands, but that didn’t help your case.

“’s’fine,” he replied. He was about to lose his damn mind. “I’m attracted to you, too, darling.”

Maybe you weren’t a misconnection after all.

just a few tags ! hope u don’t mind!

@lilhemmo @morningfears @jpgcal @cakestan @dankpunks @dammitbands @lukeskisses

[iceamericanoventi]

Love Will Find a Way, Well, Eventually : 2. In Between

“Where are you going?”

If it was inside Cartoon Network’s universe, everyone must be able to see the smoke fuming from both his nostrils and ears. Jinki looks beyond distressed when he’s lifting his ass from the chair. No one on the table was his partner, but Minho decided to throw some ridiculous question then played dumb as if he didn’t just ask one.

“Should I have number one here?”

He started getting irked, but that doesn’t stay long until Kibum casually munched his breadstick while spluttering his witty comments as usual, “Surely Taemin would be delightful.”

Taemin who didn’t do anything almost chocked himself with a piece of tomato and kicked Kibum’s shin under the table, eventually.

“Promise me you won’t run away?”

Dumbfounded, Jinki emptied his pocket and almost smashed the table with his belonging.

“Are you my husband? Here’s my wallet. And my phone!” and with that, he left the other three men finishing their meal.

“Is he always in this temper?”

Lee Taemin gave him another look, pleading him not to embarrass them further, but Kibum just shrugged and muttered ‘I’m just asking’ under his nose.

“He was mad with me since this afternoon. Plus, he has lots of stuffs to think about these days. But don’t worry, he never really got mad unless you disturb his nap.”

“What is he? A bear?”

“Yaa! Kim Kibum!”

Minho couldn’t help but laugh to the scene happened before his eyes. Taemin is famous for being friendly and very expressive only if you know him, even if he’s talkative. To penetrate his bubble is very hard at first, but this man sitting across him, he seems like he’s already inside that bubble since the very beginning. He really is someone closed to him. Kibum looks mesmerizing, even in his grumbling nature. The oversize sweater wrapped his lithe build perfectly.

A phone call arrived to Kibum's phone, he picked it up frantically and excused himself to take it outside.

"What do you think?"

“Eh?” Minho doesn’t even realized he got his eyes entailed Kibum’s silhouette until it disappear by the entrance door.

“You seemed in trance. I know Kibum is beautiful but I didn’t expect you’ll be this amazed with my friend,” Taemin’s sipping his wine, a smirk is very apparent in his devious face. 

“I guess it’s safe to say that you’re not a liar.”

Minho reopened his mouth few minutes after he’s assured that Kibum’s not going back any soon. Taemin is not ecstatic, sometimes he wondered if Minho has a decent sense of humor of a friend.

“For your information, I’m not and never been. I’m the most honest person you’ve ever encountered in your life.”

“Everyone in this room knows that’s not true.”

“Whatever. I might know my ways deceiving people, but I never lie to my friend.”

 “Did you just admit that you’re lying here and there, Lee Taemin?”

Taemin rolls his eyes, again, probably for the nth times already this evening. Without Jinki around, he can be more relaxed on throwing his tantrum on Minho.

“Choi Minho, people lies at some certain points of their life. Get over it.”

He gulped down the rest of his wine, Taemin then called a waiter near them to bring him another one.

“Kibum seems nice. He sounds smart.”

“Sounds? Did you even listen to yourself? No writer is not smart, Choi. Moreover, someone who’s been writing the past decade!”

“I only know him for one night. Who knows he’s just acting?”

“Dude, not everyone is an asshole like you.”

“An asshole wouldn’t agree to bring his best friend along in front of a psychopath like you.”

Taemin snorted and Minho’s smirk reappeared on his face.

“That is literally what a psycho would do, selling their friend for their own benefits.”

Minho wiped his mouth before washed down the dinner with cold water, “And that’s exactly what Jinki accused me for. You two shared a brain or what?”

“Any sane people would say the same, Honey,” this time Taemin’s smirk that made the other scoffed, “By the way, what’s the deal with Jinki? He looks like he’s been sitting on thorny cushion the whole dinner!”

Minho knows Taemin would ask such question eventually. However, he couldn’t say that Jinki hates the whole dinner date plan, it’s impossible. Besides that, knowing him for years, Jinki really is an angel in disguise, well, at least when he’s in the mood.

“People have different, what should I say, defense mechanism? And that’s how he is. What kind of person who talked nonstop during their first meeting, anyway?”

“Oh, I don’t know, me?”

“That’s why you’re a freak.”

“A freak who introduced you to your potentially next boyfriend.”

“Ha. Point taken,” Minho raised his hand to ask for the dessert, “Jinki is just not the type of person who will talk a lot and open up in a second. But I guarantee you, he’s a good person. Sometimes a little bit care too much for other at certain time so probably being brazen is his forte.”

“That reminds me of someone.”

Taemin and Kibum spent their high school days together. Separated for some years due to works and educations, their relationship’s all well maintained. They understand each other, including Kibum’s nature to always put others before him at any given situation.

“Appearance wise, though, what do you think about Jinki?”

“Choi Minho, I’m not a teenager anymore. Judging people around by its cover is no longer my habit.”

“But a designer like you must love a beautiful package, don’t they?”

“Well, to be honest, his lips and eyes itself could get me floored in one glance.”

“I knew it.”

“You’re a famous photographer for a reason.”

***

Cold wind slapped Kibum’s cheeks lightly when he pushed the door and parched to the corner near the valet post.

“Okay, now you can speak. Sorry, I don’t know why the reception wasn’t good enough inside.”

“Then I’ll be frankly here. There’s a possibility for making the special edition for the short story collection. But then, we’re still short of two stories at the moment.”

“Wait, wait, but we already have nine! I finished writing nine! Why should I add another two?”

“The publisher agreed to the preposition for at least twelve stories. You should be grateful I could pitch one less story!”

Kibum looks like he’s about to punch anyone passed within radius one meter around him, but nothing in reach besides a huge pot of short palm tree and concrete wall. And he needs his hand to finish his books still.

“But, Amber. Page wise, those are more than enough to make two new books. Are they out of their mind?”

There’s a loud groan banging on his ear drum came from the other line, “Dude, I almost flipped the table when I was at the meeting you have no idea. The board has new man and that guy is a pain in the ass.”

“Would it change the circumstance if I talked to them by myself?”

“Since when do they have time to talk to the writer directly? We’re head to head with bunch of snobs here, did you forget?”

“I should had not agree to let them touched my writings. Now we’re about to face dead end.”

It was a dream to work along this publisher. It was Kibum’s dream since he started writing when he took gap year after graduated high school. And as if it’s a fate, it was the only publisher agreed with his graphic novel concept five years he climbed his career professionally.

“Listen, Kibum. When I met you years ago, I promised I’ll work my ass hard to help you publishing your books. Not because I knew you, it’s because you’re good. You’re amazing writer and I’m not giving up easily. And neither you. Not when anybody can tell that you’re a gem.”

“I haven’t written any book since last year, Amber. I’m in a slump. Writer’s block is not even describing my bad luck at the moment.”

“Honey, you haven’t written any because you’re currently waiting two books released. And if I could do my magic, another one in, let’s say, six months.”

“If I could make up some words into another story within two weeks. If you could convince them to give me mercy.”

“Did you just know me yesterday?”

Kibum’s tired giving sane response, “What do you mean?”

“I’m waiting their secretary to call me in ten minutes. We’re going to discuss some new deals and I’ll make sure one of them is going to be your new nine stories book.”

“I actually have no idea if I don’t have you as my editor slash manager slash friend slash personal ranting partner slash whatever you want to be.”

“Rockstar. That would be cool.”

“You’re going to be a kick ass one to be honest.”

“I bet. Anyway, expect another call from me in the next couple hours. I’m sorry, but tonight we might need video call to resolve some issues.”

“I hate you for confiscating my time but you’re the best.”

“As always, ain’t I?”

The phone call ends already, but he still forlornly looking at his phone’s screen. With that, Kibum remembers all the works he needs to catch up for tonight. With that, he can put aside all the unnecessary anxiety and tension of tonight’s stupid match making session.

He took a glance of his watch and could only sighed, he better hurried inside to his dessert. The faster he finished, the sooner he can hit home and face the real deal. His deadlines.

Two steps away from the entrance however, he caught a familiar face sitting by themselves, staring to the busy street in front of the restaurant.

“Jinki?” he carefully calling the man, “Lee Jinki, right?”

The later tilted his head to the right and gave Kibum a simple smile, didn’t realize it dropped Kibum’s heart by the bottom of his gut.

“Aren’t you cold?”

Everyone would agree this winter is even harsher than last year’s. Jinki just lifted his left hand to make sure Kibum saw a cigarette slipped between his fingers, “Can I sit here?”

Jinki chuckles, “Aren’t you cold?”

Listening to the same question he threw a minute ago, he just rolled his eyes and took a place next to the other man.

“I’m waiting a phone call.”

“Important?”

“Kinda.”

Jinki blew some smoke out, “Hmm, I guess so. You sounded pretty upset over there.”

“Did I scream that loud?!”

“In my opinion? No. but a girl flinched and buzzed off rather hastily, so, you tell me.”

When he saw Kibum’s gaping like a fish in frantic expression, Jinki has no choices beside laughed again, surprising Kibum who’s quite convinced with his aloof personalities.

“I didn’t know you have so many jokes in store.”

“You learn something new every day.”

“Your face doesn’t show.”

“What about my face?”

“It’s handsome but with that attitude inside, seems like you’re the type who woke up at the wrong side of the bed every single morning and could kill someone annoys you at any time.”

“Well, to be fair, I did wake up in the wrong side of my bed this morning. But it’s because a certain dog occupied half of my blanket so I couldn’t disturb her.”

“You have a dog?!”

Kibum’s face lit up thousand times as if he just won some lottery. Strangely, it warms Jinki’s heart. No, scratch that, it would warm any heart, Jinki tried to generalize the situation.

“I don’t, unfortunately. She belongs to my friend. I’m taking care of her while he’s travelling abroad. Her father will pick her up this weekend.”

“Ah, too bad. We could have play date with my boys.”

“I’ll make sure to give you a call when I decided to adopt one later.”

“Do you think my invitation hasn’t expired yet by that time?”

“A man can only dream, can’t he?”

Kibum’s laughter is muffled by his own palm covering his mouth.

“Let’s go inside, you must be shivering.”

“But your cigarette?”

Kibum’s half stuttered caught red handed, Jinki already pressed the half-done cigarette on the sand bowl on his left, “I can always have another one at home. Besides, I doubt you would go inside without me dragging you along.”

Kibum thanked the universe that the place is not well lit, so he could hide the blush creeping his cheeks. Unfortunately, Jinki has a very good eye sight.

***

“Is my baby being a good girl when daddy’s away?”

Jinki scoffed when the man just entered his living room just literally threw his suitcase aside and scooped the little dachshund running toward his embrace. He gathered the suitcase and poor leather bag on the floor and placed it neatly near the saffron color couch.

The man later dropped himself next to Jinki who’s lounged himself there, checking his phone halfheartedly.

“Minho texted me the other day.”

“Why did he keep texting you?”

The man with dark grey hair didn’t catch the frown hanging on Jinki’s face and buried his face to the dog’s belly, making him groaned again. He lightly pushed the dog further and toppled his head on the other man’s laps.

The dog owner realized something’s happened when he’s not around. He put the dog on the ground and tapped her butt to send her back to her small bed near the pantry.

“Minho has my number and I have his name in my contact list. He can text me whenever he wants. Still jealous?”

Jinki closed his eyes when he started playing with his hair, “He’s still one of the reasons we broke up.”

“Baby, the only reason we broke up is because neither of us didn’t want to succumb into marriage. Minho was just a handsome face happened on the wrong time.”

“I have no idea why I still befriend him when it’s clear he wanted to shove his face to yours, all the damn time.”

“And I have no idea that you’re this type who holds the grudge for a long time. We were already out of relationship back then.”

“Still, a friend wouldn’t openly chase after their friend’s ex.”

“A friend wouldn’t, but a best friend would.”

“Whatever.”

He almost lost his control and slapped Jinki’s head of him, “Oh, come on. What’s bothering you this time?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit. It’s written all over your face the second I saw you behind the door. And I’m pretty sure it’s not because my daughter misbehaved while I’m on my annual pediatric conference.”

Jinki sighed, nothing he could really hide it from the other man. Since they were in their almost five years relationship, since they became best friends around three years prior.

“Minho invited me for a dinner night.”

“Wow, fancy,” actually Minho already texted him about the dinner a bit, how he wanted to introduce Jinki to some acquaintance he has, “He gave up on me so he went for the only option?”

“For the record, your mom agreed that I’m way much sexier than you.”

“Three years ago, before your cheek bones buried under those mount of fluffy fat.”

“Said a man who came to me and straight ahead told me I looked cute after leaving a piece of paper with their number on my table.”

“I will put aside the fact that I love how romantic you’re for still remembering our first meeting but let’s back to the right path here because I don’t like the upset you. It’s fucking annoying.”

“He introduced me to someone, Jonghyun.”

He let out inaudible gasp and thanked the universe Jinki’s still closing his eyes. Otherwise, he would stop at once and avoided any discussion of the main reason which distressed his ex-boyfriend. Knowing the scenario before hands didn’t prevent him with the sheer pain graze him when it came from Jinki’s mouth himself.

“So? Isn’t that great? Do you think it’s about time?”

“I was about to argue that two years are still not enough to get over you but I guess you’re not in the same page with me so I’d say that I’m not interested into some relationship whatsoever at this point.”

Jonghyun wanted to cry listening to such words. His heart clenched, he inhaled – a very long one – before he continued caressing Jinki’s forehead.

“I am flattered, but I know you’re just teasing me.”

“Ha, you know me so well.”

“I’m not gonna fall on the same hole, Lee.”

“You won’t. You’re too smart to repeat the torture on the loop.”

“It wasn’t a torture, Jinki. I love you as much as you do. Or maybe just slightly more.”

“Not a chance. I love you more.”

“Stop it or I will kiss you.”

“I dare you.”

“I told you I’m not gonna fall on the same hole.”

“Smart, very smart,” Jinki opened his eyes only to find Jonghyun sticking his tongue out, “Okay, so at first, I don’t like the idea already. You know I hate any type of match making method. Even the online one. But being there, I realized that my current focus doesn’t involved other party besides me, my business, and—“

“And your grandfather?”

Jinki looks annoyed, “Remind me to add ‘always-cutting-people-sentence’ on the list of reasons why I broke up with you when I’m writing my journal tonight.”

“It’s true. I think he was also the cock blocker during our relationship back then.”

“Dude, we’re talking about my gramps. And to put him on the same category with Minho is beyond weird.”

“We already broke up when Minho made his move, for Pete’s sake!”

“Okay, okay! No need to raise your voice, you’re so scary when you’re angry.”

“Then don’t make me! Now, now, can you please be a normal human being so we can talk like adults for once?”

Jinki pulled himself from the couch to the pantry, snatching a pack of cigarette on the tea table before slipped one on the corner of his mouth.

“Can you not smoking inside?”

He snorted and padded to the direction of his balcony. It’s in the middle of winter but he doesn’t care a bit to the wind ready to slaughter his bones. If tomorrow the cold prevented him to leave the bed, then let it be. For once, he just wants to free his mind from the business.

“You need to remember that I can only treat patient on certain age,” Jonghyun followed few minutes after with a blanket he spread as wide as possible to cover both of them without feeling suffocated for standing too close.

“The American Academy of Pediatrics recommends people be under pediatric care up to the age of 21, though.”

“Did you just quote Wikipedia? And we’re not in fucking States! Above and beyond, shame on your wrinkles!”

“Rude.”

“You’re the rude one to your lungs!”

“Then tell me how to ease my mind without nicotine! Tell me how to forget all those troubled night and just sleep! Do you think it’s easy taking care of worrisome business and messy family without distraction?! Stop talking non sense if you do know how to save my days!”

Any word seems taboo once Jinki exploded. Both man just staring into the dark evening below Jinki’s unit. People paraded as quickly as possible on the street to fight the harsh weather. It’s not that late, but only few cars passed by. The dim light of the street lamp’s soothing the tense atmosphere in a way.

Jonghyun leaned closer to Jinki’s arm and rested his head on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t help you with that.”

“I’m sorry I yelled at you.” 

“You know that you can always talk to me right?”

“I’m tired bothering you. You already have a lot in your hands.”

“Besides my patients and Roo, there’s nothing really confiscated my time.”

Having someone like Jonghyun who would stand next to him, scold him then hug him right after, no matter how awful he behaved and treated the other man, Jinki every so often thinking what kind of good deeds he did in his previous life.

Jinki cocked his head, inhaling the trace of scent of Jonghyun’s favorite shampoo. Initially, he was about to kiss the top of his head, like he used to do when the other man leaned on him for whatever reason it was. He remember, though, the earlier period after their broke up – after settling their feelings for few months of course – the shorter man told him not to do that anymore because it was the doctor’s Achilles heel. So instead, he rubs his cheek over the thick hair, silently telling Jonghyun he’s sorry.

Some nights – especially right after that dinner date – he had thought, maybe one of the reason he reprimands Minho’s idea is just because he still has tiny hope that Jonghyun and him might had another chance in the future.

“From time to time, I was thinking that the more day passed, we’re closer to the image of friends with benefit.”

“Friends with benefit? Tsk,” Jonghyun slapped his forearm, “The only benefit I got from you is you’re the only perfect nanny for Roo when I’m away.”

“Those cups of coffee every single time you stopped by my shop?”

“Pfft. How stingy. I’m leaving.”

“Heartless.”

Jonghyun didn’t say anything more and returned inside to gather his things and called Roo. He desperately needs some hot shower. Somewhere inside him, he was expecting Jinki offering him to stay the night knowing how caring the man and the fact Jinki knows he bolted to the other’s apartment right away after landed.  

When Jinki handed him the leash, that hope vanished in second.

“What if later I really considered this person? Or any other person collided with me on the future?”

Jonghyun smiled, he looks tired, but very sincere, “Then good.”

“Because I’m not gonna bother you anymore?”

“No. Because you’ll have someone to share the happiness with.”

***

cross-posted in my AFF

[namjoonsteeth]

Back To You- Day 2

Title: Back To You (mini-series) Day 2 of 7 

Word-Count: 5k

Summary: Jay has been Eden’s weakness for far too long. As much as she tells herself she’s over him, all it takes is one call for her to drop everything and fly to Rome for a week to help him out. He wants a second chance, she just wants to stop being so foolish when it comes to him. They both have 7 days in Italy to figure it out.

Genre: Angst

Cover made by @obiwon-shenobi​

“Fuck,” 

Being this close to him has officially ruined me, once again. I wake up with my hands clinging to the sheets and my lip painfully wedged between my teeth. The image of Jay’s hands running across my skin still lingers. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if I didn’t know just how good he is at what he does. And God do I know. 

I roll my eyes at myself already done with my behavior and it’s not even, I roll over to look at my phone, seven o’clock yet. I have no one to blame. I brought this on myself. All I can do is fucking deal with it. Starting with pretending that I didn’t wake up mid-sex dream about my ex-fling who’s sleeping just a few rooms down from me. 

I have about an hour and a half before eight, when I have to be up and outside so I can shoot with the groovy-room guys, Gyu-Jung and Hwi-min. I remember walking past a gym downstairs. I’m hoping I can at least run my frustration out or this day is headed straight to hell. 

I get up and pull on some leggings and a sports bra before grabbing a towel and heading downstairs quietly. The house is eerie so early in the morning. Each step I make echoes in the big hallways. Thankfully the door to the gym is left wide open and it’s empty. I plug my earphones in and tuck my phone in my pocket. 

For the next hour, I work out the fact that I want to spend the rest of the day in Jay’s bed and recount all the reasons that could absolutely not happen. 

“You look stressed,” 

I turn at the sound of Chase’s voice. 

“Nope, not stressed at all,” I give him a tight-lipped smile. My steps start to feel heavier as I turn up the speed. Totally not stressed. 

“It’s not healthy to avoid your problems, Eden. Especially when he’s Jay Park. The man doesn’t give up,”

“He’s not a problem,” I breathe out. 

You would think the fact that I’m wearing headphones is a clear indicator not to talk to me, but at last, here we are. Running away from my sex dreams only to have his best friend show up. 

“He just needs to learn that not everybody is cool with being walked over just because he’s who he is,” 

“You know him, Eden. He’s not going to give up until he knows a hundred and ten percent that you’re done with him,”

“I’ve said it, Chase. I can say it until I’m fucking blue in the face and he’ll still be like ‘We’re meant to be together. I’m going to be with you whether you like it or not’,” I do a poor imitation of Jay’s voice waving my hands around dramatically like he does. 

“First of all, his voice isn’t even that deep. Secondly, you’re here,” he sighs. I bat his hand away as he leans over to stop my machine but he’s stronger. My legs come to a stop and feel like jelly. I use the handles on the treadmill to hold myself up.  

“You can’t tell me you don’t want him to try. You wouldn’t be here if that was the case. You want him to change your mind,”

Fuck. I hate being transparent. I hate when other people know me better than I know myself. 

“Did he send you here to spy on me?” I frown trying to change the subject.

Chase smiles. “He’s my best friend, Eden. Even if he didn’t beg me to try and pick your brain a bit then I’d still be down here with a PowerPoint on why you should give him another chance,” 

I get off of the treadmill and use a disinfectant wipe to wipe it down before tossing it.

 “I swear you guys are worse than gossiping females,”

“Guys fall in love to, Eden,” he notes tilting his head. 

I scoff. “Love?”

“Yeah. He loves you. He’s probably just admitting to himself now but he does. He wouldn’t have gone through all of that bullshit with Simon,”

“Simon?” I interrupt. “What does he have to do with this?”

Chase sighs. “Simon sees you as a friend. You guys are close. He takes your side no matter what. He just really wanted Jay to leave you alone. And you know Jay. He doesn’t listen to anyone,”

I groan. “Tell me they didn’t fight,”

“No, it was just a little tense for a while. I think he saw how much Jay actually likes you,”

“I gotta go,” I sigh wiping my forehead with my towel. 

Chase shrugs. “Just try not to hold it in and maybe talk to him. Or at least think about it, Eden,”

“I don’t have a choice,” I mutter to myself. 

The shoot with the groovy room boys comes and goes. It’s my first one on one meeting with a h1gher music artist. They’re fun and I’m laughing for most of the shoot. It takes my mind off of their boss for a few hours. After a while, it doesn’t even feel like work.

When we get back to the villa, everybody is busy. Some go out to explore the city, some make use of the makeshift studio set up upstairs in one of the more further rooms. I run into Jay, but even he seems busy, his phone pressed against his ear and sparing me nothing more than a small smile. 

I spend time going through the photos I took. I separate them between solo and group shots and send them to my boss in L.A for editing. This is one of our biggest projects and if it wasn’t for the fact that I had time to dedicate the week to shooting, there would be no way we could get it done by the deadline they’d set. 

I’m looking through my camera at the three guys. It’s not fair that they’re all just so...them. Jay and Chase are silly, playful in front of the camera making every shot I take just seen so light. Then there’s Simon. He laughs and jokes back and forth with the guys but there’s still a quiet presence about him that screams ‘I’m the boss,’. 

It’s weird to see the juxtaposition, but it works. All of it does. The old buildings, the deep colors surrounding us, the ocean in the background. It all works with the three guys. 

They pose without much direction from me and honestly, it makes the shoot fly through. For being only the second group shot, it’s going easier than I had expected. I’ve known for a while their all professionals but I appreciate it even more as we work on my planned shots and trade ideas back and forth. By the end of the three hour time that I blocked off, I’ve gotten hundreds of good pictures to choose from. 

The sun has gone down and none of us have eaten anything other than the cheese and bread we’d stopped for earlier. Chase is complaining about hunger pains while rubbing his flat stomach while Simon rolls his eyes laughing. “Should we find something on the street?” Simon turns to ask me and Jay. At some point, Jay had reached over to grab my camera bag and it’s slung on his back. He also has my camera in his hand, flipping through today’s work like it’s the most normal thing in the world. I narrow my eyes at the back of his head. None of this is normal. But I’m here already. I have no choice but to just deal. 

“These are really good,” he says turning to look at me. He catches me giving him a dirty look. His mouth pulls into a smile as he shakes his head. This must be really hard for him, not getting what he wants.  I’m promising to stick to my guns and give him no more leverage.

“I’m a professional photographer,” I deadpan. 

I don’t know if it’s me who matches my strides with his or if he’s slowed down but we’re walking side by side now. Our shoulders bump against each other with each step but I can’t find it in myself to pull back. 

“I miss your smart ass mouth,” he laughs loudly. 

“I’m just saying,” I say quietly. “I mean, you are paying me to take pictures. That’s like the main reason that I’m here other than a pretty cheap vacation in Rome,”

Jay sighs and reaches over to gently set my camera back around my neck. He pulls my curls out from underneath the cord and pushes stray locks out of my face. 

He’s always been attentive; pushing hair out of my face, holding my hand tightly when I walked in heels that were a bit too high, warming me up when he’d noticed goosebumps. 

“That’s not the only reason you’re here,” he says smugly. 

“Oh yeah?” I roll my eyes but don’t give him the chance to elaborate that he waits for. 

He takes it anyway. 

“You should know that I don’t mess around when it comes to you, Eden,”

“Yeah, except when we say no expectations, right?”

I don’t know where it comes from. He immediately recognizes the stupid promise we made when he first started to mess around. 

No expectations. No pressure.

It didn’t last. Maybe it’s my fault. I had expectations, hope for us that I wanted. And for the majority of the time, I seemed like maybe we were on the same page. It’s amazing what will come out of the dark when it’s time.  

“Careful Eden, you’re about a sentence away from sounding like you care about me again,”

I stop walking. He’s unbelievable. Yeah, it’s my fault that I thought that maybe there was something more than fucking after shows and alcohol infused kisses. I looked too deep. But, I will not be blamed for anything besides my feelings alone. 

“Please, stop talking to me,” I sigh. 

“Why are you being so difficult?”

“Because I’m very uninterested in playing your games, Jay,”

He laughs. “My games? I’ve been nothing but straight up with you. You’re the one who-,”

“God, you are so fucking selfish,” I say. I don’t bother lowering my voice. I don’t even have it in me to glance at Chase and Simon who’ve stopped walking and focused their attention on me. “Don’t you dare blame me for any of your messy shit,”

My skin feels like fire. Like I’m burning up. All of me. And it’s because of him. Because he doesn’t get it. Because for some reason it’s acceptable for him to be a child. It’s not my responsibility to coddle him, to spell out all the ways he hurt me when it’s as clear as water. 

“How am I selfish, Eden. I’m trying so fucking hard with you, and you’re giving me nothing,”

“I don’t want you to. I’m telling you that I want you to just fucking stop. Stop with the sly remarks about how you miss me, stop trying to win me back because I was obviously never yours to begin with,”

He steps closer to me, closing the distance between us. I see Chase shift uncomfortably but I can’t feel bad right now. Not when I feel like he’s cutting my air off. I shouldn’t have come. I can’t keep saying it because it’ll remain the same no matter what, but I shouldn’t be here. 

“You were never mine, Eden?”

I ignore his question and brush past him. He grabs my wrist stopping me. “Tell me what I did,”

A stream of everything I’ve been holding in comes out like a train going full speed right at Jay. I can’t stop it. 

“You’re a liar and you’re a cheater. You needed easy. And fucking twenty one year old naive me was so easy for you,”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Jay exclaims. His voice rises too and I have to resist the urge to shrink back. “I never cheated on you,” 

I scoff, shaking my head at him. “You’re right. We were never together. You can’t cheat on people you’re hooking up with. And technically, I never asked if there was someone else. You’re right,”

I walk past him. 

“The next time you manipulate someone into falling in love with you Jay, make sure your fucking girlfriend doesn’t come visit you on tour,”

I leave them all standing there. 

Maybe blowing up in the middle of Rome wasn’t the ideal situation. Maybe I could’ve handled it better but I’ve been a volcano for years now. It was only a matter of time. 

Ten minutes of walking later, it’s dark and I’m lost. I’ve also been crying like an idiot. I must look like a child. I feel like one too. Nothing looks familiar but I don’t have any particular urge to go back to the villa yet. 

“Hey,” It’s Simon. He’s been walking with me, quietly keeping his distance while I silently curse out his friend. “Why are you guys so dysfunctional,” he sighs jogging to catch up to me. His arm comes around my shoulder pulling me out of the way of a cyclist. 

“Did you know he was dating someone at the same time that we-,”

I don’t know how to finish the sentence. What were we, really? We weren’t together, the mutual promise of no expectations or pressure made sure that we got nowhere near labels. But it was something, right? Shit, I’m a mess. 

“No,” he shakes his head. “He wasn’t with anyone. He doesn’t date on tour. It gets messy,”

“Like this,” I say rolling my eyes. “But she came. I literally laid eyes on her when she came to visit him the last week of the tour and again when she was leaving. I didn’t know who she was until after the fact,”

“Eden, she’s just a girl,” he sighs. “Listen, it’s really none of my business but you’re hurting and that’s my business. He wouldn’t have done that to you,”

“How do you know,” I shoot at him.   

“He’s in love with you, Eden. It’s been two years, and you’re still the one he wants above anybody else,”

I frown, crossing my arms over my chest. “And I’m supposed to just pretend that everything is fine so that he can once again have what he wants,”

“No, you should work it out with him because it’s what you came here to do. Whatever you saw, talk to him about it. Give him a chance to explain himself and then make your decision,”

That’s all either of us say about Jay. We stop at a restaurant and grab a slice of pizza and share a cup of peach gelato, typical touristy things. By the time we get back to the villa is nearing nine and I’m tired and stuffed. I say goodnight to Simon and head upstairs. 

Kicking my shoes off, it’s not long before I’m passed out across my bed. It’s even shorter than that when dream-Jay comes back. This time he’s rough and frustrated. His hand moves too hard against my skin while his mouth bites at my neck. Just when his hips are getting ready to press against mine, my phone rings. 

I blindly reach for it, finding it somewhere near my thigh. 

“Hello,”

“Are you ok?”

I hate that it’s the first thing he asks me. I hate that despite everything, I know he cares. Whether it’s his pride or his heart, there’s a part of him that cares. The fact that it gives my heart a little hope lets me know how stupid I am when it comes to him. 

“I’m fine,”

“Eden,” he starts. He sighs. “I don’t want to have this conversation over the phone. Let me see you,”

I scrub my hands over my face. I’m so tired. I think this trip is about being done with him once and for all. 

“I’m torturing myself,” I say quietly. “I know how stupid it is for me to want to be here with you. Despite everything,”

He’s quiet, listening. 

“I’m making a fool of myself, aren’t I? Pretending that I don’t care, acting like I don’t want this even a little bit,”

I hear him blow a breath out. I’m stressing him out, I guess. 

“Let me take you somewhere. I want to make sure you’re good,”

“I’m fine,” I insist again. “I’m sorry I yelled at you earlier,”

“I don’t care about that. What you said, about you being easy, you know that’s bullshit. I can’t,” he pauses. 

It sounds like he pulls the phone away from his ear as he curses. 

“Let’s not do this tonight, Jay,”

“Then when?”

“Never,” I sigh. “We don’t have to do this. We don’t have to recount all that shit just so I can stop feeling sorry for myself,”

“No, we need to talk about our shit so that we can move forward. I want to be with you, Eden. I can’t spell it out anymore clearer than that. I want to leave here knowing that you’re mine again. Whatever work I have to put in, I’m here. I’m ready,”

I sigh, pulling my blanket over my head and kicking my feet like a toddler. This is frustrating. That he knows all the right things to say is utterly and completely frustrating. That I’m falling for it again is...frustrating. 

“Open the door, Eden,”

“What door?”

I hear him laugh softly. A gentle knock has me rolling my eyes. What he wants..he gets I guess. I pull on a pair of sweats and crack my room door open. 

He changed out of his clothes from earlier into joggers and a hoodie. The hood is pulled up over his head and his hands tuck in his pockets. I want to reach out. He just looks so boyish, charming. Like he’s at my window begging me to sneak out past curfew. 

“I’m taking you to the Trevi Fountain,” he says. 

“It’s like ten o’clock,” I whisper tiredly. If there’s one thing he knows about me, it’s that I don’t do particularly well when people pull me out of bed. As much as I do want to see the fountain, it’s fucking ten o’clock. 

“I know, Baby, but I want to take you to see it,” he insists smiling excitedly at me. 

I freeze at the endearment. I don’t know why he’s doing this to me. I mean, I do but it’s hard to build my walls up at ten o’clock. I can’t be held accountable for any of my actions if I go with him. 

“Jay, I told you we aren’t doing this,”

“And I told you that this is my last chance with you. If you thought this was going to be easy, you don’t know me,”

I sigh and close the door. My head leans against it as I put off making the decision we both know I’m going to make. 

“Bring your camera,” I hear him say through the door. 

I don’t know what pisses me off more; the fact that he just knows that I’ll come out with him or the fact that I immediately turn around and take my camera off of the charger and put an empty SD card in. I pull a hoodie on and a pair of jeans and grab my purse. 

When I open the door, Jay pulls my hand into his and leaned me through the house and through the front door. I’m looking for a car but he just keeps walking until he’s pulling me along on the side of the road. 

“Is this your way of forcing me to talk to you?”

“Mhmm,” he nods. His fingers tighten around mine and I don’t have it in me to pull free. 

“We’ll talk. Not about us. About all the other stuff,”

I need to hear it from him. I don’t even think he knew that I was aware of the existence of the other girl he’d been with until today. 

“We never broke up,” he says quietly. “And that’s my bad. I should’ve sorted out my shit before getting with you. I just didn’t expect to meet someone else. We never ended anything because at the end of tour we always ended up back together,”

He fingers tighten around mine. He lifts my hand to his lips to kiss the back of it. It’s too familiar. It’s the affection I’ve been craving for too long. 

“But trust me, when me and you got together it was never my intention to only have you temporarily. You were it for me,”

“But you did go back to her,” I point out, remembering him in my apartment almost six months after I promised myself I was done. All it took was one drunk call and he’d been at my bed in L.A, kissing me like he’d been starved. I woke up to his phone ringing, and her flashing face probably wondering where he was. 

Needless to say, that visit ended with his phone flying out of my door after him and more than a few choice colorful words. My apartment was a mess by the end of it and my voice had gone hoarse from screaming at him. 

“You weren’t answering my calls, texts, and she was familiar. I was terrible to her from the time you ended things up until the day I showed up at your apartment. I put everything on her. It wasn’t fair to both of you,”

We walk silently, both of us caught in our heads. He’s to blame for all of it. It’s all on him. He didn’t technically cheat on anyone. He didn’t technically lie either. But, unfortunately technicalities don’t matter when it comes to the heart.  

“I want to believe you so bad,” I say honestly. I do. I want to believe that he never wanted to hurt me, but the fact remains that he did. 

“I fucked up so bad, Eden. I’m just asking you to try,” he says almost pleadingly. 

I’m trapped. I can’t give him an answer right now. Not when it feels like I’m slicing open an old wound. 

“Jay, you pulled me out here to see the fountain. Let’s just see the fountain,” I say trying to pull my hand out of his. 

He holds me tighter and stops walking. 

“I need you to know that I never tried to hurt you. I mean I know, I could’ve been less messy but I chose you. It wasn’t even a choice really. The minute I met you, I was done. I’m-,” he stops mid-sentence. His chin drops down to his chest.

I can’t talk about this now. Not when we still have five more days to be in each other’s space. He must sense that we’ll get nowhere on the subject tonight because he starts walking again, my fingers locked tightly in his. We walk in silence for close to fifteen minutes before either of us says anything. He’s somewhere lost in his head. His brows curl together, his mouth twisting to the side. 

“I missed you too,” I whisper suddenly. 

I don’t know why I’m saying it. It just makes all of this even messier. I think when you care about people, truly, you try to keep them from hurting as much as you can help it. I know it’s what he wants to hear, or it’s at least part of it. I can give that to him at least. I want to erase the deep frown from his face. 

Jay stays quiet but he pulls me close, an arm coming around my neck. We probably look like a cute couple strolling down an Italian dirt road. It’s the most intimate we’ve been in more than a year. 

“What if we get robbed,” I blurt out. 

He laughs next to me. “The van’s been trailing us for a while now. You just haven’t noticed,”

I look behind me to see that a white van has indeed been following us. This is why he’s bad for me. He’s got all of my attention. 

“We’re almost there,” he says. 

“What made you want to come here so late?” I ask. 

“It’s romantic,” he says simply. “I’m not playing, Eden. I’m going to be the most romantic mother fucker in the world to get you back,”

“Why,” I roll my eyes pretending not to care. 

But I need this. I need him to describe all the ways I’m still on his mind. I want him to tell me exactly which parts of me still pique his interest two years later. We’d only been fooling around for a couple of weeks, but it was every day. Every day he spent hours telling me how crazy he was about my body, my mouth and everything else. 

The fountain comes into view. It’s too beautiful for words, and with the moonlight bouncing off the water, it truly looks like something from out of mythology books. I feel like a damn water nymph is going to pop out from behind the marble statues. 

I lift my camera and start clicking almost immediately. Jay’s in a majority of them. He’s leaning over the edge of the fountain, looking up at the moon, looking at me, walking toward me, reaching out to grab my hand. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says drawing closer. 

“You have a smart mouth that used to piss me off and turn me on at the same time. You’re smart and passionate, and sexy as hell. We match in every way,” His hand settles on my hip as he pulls me close. My chest presses against his, my hand clutches the material of his hoodie for some faux semblance of a bit of control. 

“I need you in my life, Eden. I’ve seen myself without you, I’ve felt it. And I don’t want to do it anymore,”

He smiles suddenly, nearly knocking me on my ass. 

“I’m trapped,”

“And what if I forgive you, that doesn’t mean that we’re automatically in a relationship. 

“Last night, you told me we weren’t friends and at first I thought that I was ok with that because I was never interested in being friends with you,” I feel his breath fan across my mouth. 

He’s too close. I  trust myself less than I trust him. If these dreams keep popping up I think I’ll have to be on the next flight home just to keep myself from touching him. My grip on his jacket tightens as I force myself to keep my distance. 

“But,” He continues. “You don’t trust me. And if it wasn’t for the fact that you’re physically attracted to me, I’d think you didn’t even like me,”

Jay draws in a deep breath. I feel his arms come up to wrap around my waist slowly. I can’t tell him not to. All of my concentration has to be on not touching kissing him. 

“So we’ll just be friends for now. For tonight and maybe a little bit of tomorrow. I only have this week with you so excuse me if it feels like I’m rushing this a bit,” “Friends don’t take their friends out to the trevi fountain in the middle of the night and stand this close, Jay,”

He smiles and I swear my heart drops out of my chest and falls right into the water next to us. I’m doomed. It’s only day two but I’m in for it, I just know. 

“Best friends then, Eden. You’ve officially replaced Chase,”

“So we get to talk about boys and do each other’s nails?”

He lets me go and pulls back. I miss his body pressed against mine. I can admit that. I also miss the feeling of almost kissing him. I tuck my hands in my pockets to keep from pulling him back in my space. 

“You’re really a pain in the ass,” he laughs. 

I watch him push his hand into his pockets. He pulls out a fist full of change and gestures for me to hold my hands out. I take half of the pile. 

“I figured, why make one wish, right? One’s bound to come true,”

I can’t help but smile at him. I close my eyes and wish. I wish for small things like my hair turning out ok tomorrow, and for the lightning to be good for the CEO shots. But I also wish for big things like hoping we all make it home safely after the trip. I also wish for him. I wish that if it’s meant to be him, we can figure it all out. 

When I’m done I look up at him. His eyes are closed tightly while he throws each of the remaining coins in one by one. His pink lips move softly against each other as he speaks each wish into hopeful existence. 

He’s too pretty. Long eyelashes that almost brush his cheeks. Shard cheekbones and a jawline that cuts at a severe angle. I can’t blame myself for being a mess over him. I take a picture of him quickly before the moment passes. 

When his eyes open, he sees me staring up at him. He looks too good for me to look away. I reach out for him first. I wrap my arms around his back. This is what I want. I could lie to myself but it won’t change the fact that at the end of every day for the last two years, this has been what I wanted. 

“I’ll give you until the end of the week,” I tell him. “Convince me or let me go, Jay,”

His arms come up around me too. His chin rests on my shoulder as he pulls me close. His head turns and his lips press softly against my neck. “I told you making a lot of wishes at once would be a good idea. One already came true,” he says against my skin.

“What did you wish for,” I ask scared of what he’ll say. 

His lips press against my skin again and he takes a breath like he’s taking me in. 

“A chance,”

[ia21133melly]

Evaluation

The aim of this module was to introduce us into starting our own business. This involved exploring our professional identity, looking into taxes, copyright and creating our online identity. Throughout the module I created a web page, Instagram account and an unbinable CV. Because I already had an existing graphic design account that was from a previous module, I decided to create a web site aimed for getting onto courses and placements. I decided on just a website and Instagram due to the requirement being we needed to have a social media page. I kept my web page simple and straight to the point. Containing a range of my work and a short “about” section. This was designed with the people doing the selection being remarkably busy and would require all my information as quick as possible. For my unbinable CV I settled on creating a mug. This was because of the nature of work I would be applying for and the usefulness. The bonus is how easily circulate the CV would be. I spent a large part of my time thinking about and coming up with my work identity. With my logo creation I opt for a combination of hand a paint pallet in the shape of a brain. The outcome of this module had been having a bare basic set-up of going into self-employment, something I will not be doing. I originally had wanted a much more professional selection of assets which are ready to use. With being uncomfortable of having too much of my identity revealed online under my legal name, I took extra caution with what online presence I would have. This is because I understand that your online reputation could break or make your career. With my industry being so small, I wanted to avoid getting a reputation for being someone who does not update their social media (as this is worse than not being on social media). I do plan to be using it however I do not have the desire nor energy to be managing an online presence successfully. I do not want to be the sort of person who shares the same content over all social media platforms, this will require a lot of work and planning on my part to keep it up. Because I am using my pages to get work/placements I thought having the visual social media with a main web page would be the best option. Therefore I opt for only an Instagram page for now, which will mostly be showing additional work and process. I would also like to do more development to my logo before I start handing out my applications. It currently does the job but I feel the overall quality lacks, once I get better at using softwares I will be able to create a much better logo piece and CV. Further to this I also want more portfolio pieces that show a range of mediums. Once I finish that I will be happy to start networking. There was not many good experiences from this module other than playing with colours and completing the work itself. There was a lot of bad experience throughout this module, starting off with being unaware that this module had already taken place a semester prior. This left me with a lot to catch-up with that my peers have had advance notice of doing. It was stressful and I found it difficult to focus properly. I also experienced a lot of difficulty during this module with being listened too about issues I was having. Then there was additional ongoing peers issues. As a result I was isolated a lot and struggled to remain focused with a lacking of support or knowing who to trust for the support. I believe this contributed to a lot of the disinterest in not only the work but the course itself. As a result I found it difficult to focus on each topic fully. I think my outcomes would have been more true to my usual standards has the additional issues not taken place. I tackled this by using the pomodoro technique, something I discovered last semester and have been expanding on since. 

  The things that did not go well and was a bad experience fell to a lack of communication and organization, from both sides. The major one being, me not being aware of the lessons already taking place. I never saw an email announcement of timetable changes. Nor was I confronted with this physically by the tutor, even when there was opportunity to do so. I have a good reputation with being a responsible student, so it was out of character for me to not show up to a lesson and not communicate my absence. None of my peers brought it up either or asked if I knew. This was an issue not only because peers had a head start and I was now starting at a different point, making peer feedback difficult but I had also missed out on any lessons and discussion that took place prior. This meant I was self-teaching myself pretty much the entire module. Peers began to use my absence as an excuse to exclude me, this made getting feedback from them impossible, undesirable and I did not feel supported. I was also lacking information that may have been valuable for my studies. Another issue was the work task themselves, I found having to repeat an identical task from a prior module is incredibly challenging. Having to come up with a new name, new sites and other things only adds to the pressure of maintaining a professional online appearance. Due to the lack of sense it made, I struggled to commit myself fully to the tasks. It also created me a lot of additional issues as I am not training to be a designer, which was made clear prior to joining the course.

 A lot of support came from the resources on a free educational youtube channel called The Futur. The channel offers essential information for designers that have been informative during a difficult educational period. Each video is rich with professional experience and up to date knowledge from sucessful working designers. It has allowed me to learn relevant information I will need to get hired. It was through this channel that I discovered how social media should be used efficiently and effectively, how to talk about your work ready for interviews, how to set up my portfolio and how to make sure I really want to be a designer. This helped a lot with the design aspects of this module. However, because I was struggling to come up with another design business name, when I wasn’t even going to be a designer, I negotiated with my tutor to do one more focused on my actual career goal. This made things slightly easier but I later faced issues of not having much of a portfolio nor did I want personal data on the internet just yet until my online identity was going to be a solid one.   Because of the unique path for my chosen career, I also needed to do additional research on what type of experience I will be needing, I used professional universitie’s youtube pages which gave advise on what they look for in a portfolio and what experience they value. These were informative and offered me a lot of tips and tricks. With this I was able to make the conclusion that a simplified website would be my best option to go. Over the summer I will be further developing my portfolio with some products from this semester that I wish to expand with.

  From all of this I have learned how to adapt a brief that does not fit my personal career criteria and make it work for me. I experienced growing pains on how to handle situations in which one is excluded and provided a less than acceptable quality of service. However, in the future I know how to navigate these situations better and who to go too and when. Next time there will be no hesitation.  

The situation could have been made more positive had communication took place. A few of the tasked had no planned lessons with them, which resulted in me waiting around for instructions. Typically I would give-up, go do work and discover some kind of discussion have taken place but it felt more casual conversations than a structured lesson with learning opportunities within them. I decided to start using the scheduled lesson plans as time to work on projects of my choice. It would have been better had there been more engaging lessons for some tasks, even if it was a short amount of time. It lacked professionalism and was something I could have done myself without paying thousands of pounds in the process. 

Skills I would benefit from developing to help with a situation like this to improve it would be, being more tenacious. Having a stronger resistance to adversity and more developed skills around illustration and typography. The ongoing issue I have with typography is relating to as a communication. I can see it but not entirely sure how to do it. Having better “done and dump” it skills would also benefit me, to allow me to move through project a bit easier. This is something I repeatedly find myself getting stuck at and with the new style of deadlines and lessons, I don’t have the time I once had to let things sink in and develop. I need to keep rushing through. 

  Things I could have approached different during the module would  be approaching my tutor and asked why there was no email sent out about the timetable changes and request to have 1-2-1 time to make up for the error. There were also a few additional things I would have liked to have produced had I had more time and access to equipment. There are things such as a video version for my 10 things activity, a more professional looking infographic, the time to be able to create my own font, be able to take more time to do illustration images and create my own icons. Video editing is something I want to look into doing more of, I created some in my first year and have seen the value of it during a few of the modules this semester but I have not had the equipment or time to explore with them.

[allondonboy]

Medicine for the Soul (Ch 6)

Chapter 6 - Allegro molto appassionato: fortissimo (Ch 1, 2, 3, 4, 5)

My half-disappearing off the face of the earth was because I thought my main academic deadline for this year was the end of February. Turns out it's the end of November, which required a brain-aching switch into academic writing mode and...yeah.

Thank you for your patience, comments and kudos, I couldn't have got through this term without them. The next chapter is 80 % written and should be up for mid-December. That and this one are my favourites so far, and I really hope you enjoy them!

Sanvers is 100 % endgame in this little universe.

Thanks as always, Sky, for your help.

Maggie is already back at Stanford when Eliza and Kara drop them off. Physically being near her again takes more getting used to than Alex expected – the stories of couples being reunited with passionate kisses and more had prepared them for more than an awkward wave and the sensation of not being wholly present in the room.

They’ve grown uncomfortably used to Eliza’s misgendering such that Maggie’s gender-neutral language knocks them off kilter. After the emotional whiplash from going from college to Midvale to college again their brain is learning to relax once more, safe and validated next to their girlfriend, but it still lags as they get used to hearing the right pronouns again.

Not that Kara and Lucy didn’t try, they muse as Maggie leads them to her next gig in the gay bar down the road, but the house in Midvale always held a feeling of unease when they were called they.

The bar is lit with multi-coloured lights and it’s early enough in the evening that the buzz is present but not overbearing. Maggie, chewing ferociously on a mint, makes a beeline for the mic in the corner. Alex heads for the bar and orders two beers, setting one on the floor by Maggie’s feet next to her bottle of water.

Alex finds a quiet corner from where to watch Maggie, raising their bottle at her when she searches for them. She sends them a smile, dimples flashing, and they grin back.

The audience around Maggie grows, obscuring their view of her. They slide closer with their refilled drink, eyes fixed on their girlfriend as she puts her guitar away. Maggie smiles as she talks to the people, the girls, who come up to her.

And Rao, they don’t want to be possessive but winter break is still too fresh in their mind and the doubts are sticking to their mind like burs on a coat and they don’t take Maggie’s hand when she offers it, they don’t return her eye roll at another girl’s simpers, they turn their cheek into her kiss, and they stop before Maggie’s door is within arm’s reach.

“Danvers, you coming?” With the gleam in Maggie’s eye, they know she’s expecting a quip and at another time they might have provided one but there’s blood pounding in their ears and something bubbling behind their eyes and they turn, and they run.

--

In the week since they’d been back, they’d studied, worked their way through the remaining bottles of beer in their room, and moved through all the practice rooms in the music block to try and find the best acoustic.

In the end, it’s the smallest room in the corner of the second floor that they choose. With just enough room for the upright piano tucked at the back, it has a small window out of which a tree is just visible, tall and stark against the neighbouring building. They work through their old exercise books, making the most of the week before classes start to scrape their way to a tone that doesn’t make them cringe in embarrassment.

The practice room is where they run when they leave Maggie’s.

It’s partly because Lucy is in all evening, and Alex isn’t in the mood for a conversation that isn’t moving fast with their feet slamming the pavement: the only way they can dampen the stifling beat of their heart in the base of their throat without damaging a hand that they need to squeeze out double stops and furious glissandi.

Some of them wants to go back to the punching bag they’d hung in Midvale, where they’d taught Kara how to throw a punch.

Some of them wants to go back to the bottle of vodka stashed in their sock drawer.

Most of them wants to scream at Eliza for filling them with all the emotions they’d spent three years trying to bury.

So, they settle for the violin.

Steady hands with an unsteady mind, drowning out the ringing in their ears.

Black notes on white pages, blocking out Maggie’s face.

--

It’s day three when they find the bottle of scotch their dad brings – brought – out when they have guests over.

It sits unopened on their desk for days four and five, and on day six, they twist the lid off and take a cautious gulp.

Day seven is the funeral.

Half of the remaining scotch slips down easily and it takes them two attempts to screw on the lid.

It’s hard to notice its effect when they’re already so numb.

Weeks two and three are the most drawn out weeks of their life.

At first, they sleep more than they ever have, willing this nightmare to be over each time they open their eyes to a new day and a fleeting second of normality before the eerie silence of the house hits them like a sledgehammer to the chest and they know it’s real, know they can’t be dreaming the vacuum inside them that takes all of their breath and none of their pain.

Then they don’t sleep at all, to put off freefalling through his absence every morning, to put off the dreams where he is alive and happy and joking, to put off another day of the whispers at school.

They don’t surf. He isn’t there to see it.

They study, and they drink, and they practice their violin.

They try to practice.

It’s hard.

After all, what use is a shaking hand from the burn of liquor down your throat and the burn of something else entirely in your heart?

--

The next day, they sit on the other side of the lecture hall. As soon as they’ve pulled out a pen, the lecture starts, and they look across at Maggie exactly once to see her three rows down, watching the lecturer intently.

--

They don’t sit in their usual library seat, instead finding a secluded corner. Maggie arrives five minutes later at their usual table and they see her slow as she finds it empty of both Alex and a Tuesday sandwich.

She sits anyway.

--

Alex comes out of the lab and stops in their tracks. Maggie is leaning against their locker, arms folded and ankles crossed, and she pushes off with her shoulders to walk towards them, concern on her face.

They push past her. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

“You weren’t answering my texts or calls. I was worried.”

“I – I’ve been busy. I’m sorry.” They yank on their sweater, head still inside the locker.

“Is this a bad time?”

“Yeah, yeah it is, kinda.” Alex grabs their bag and slams the door shut, spinning around to find Maggie closer than she sounded. “I’m in the middle of an assignment.”

They focus on a spot on the wall just above Maggie’s head. “It’s a challenging one and I’m not sure any of our class get it, to be honest.”

“If anyone can figure it out, it’s you,” says Maggie in a way that makes them meet her eyes and they wonder, briefly, how they thought they deserved someone so supportive and with so much confidence in them.

“I knew this was going to happen, I knew it,” mutters Alex and they bolt for the stairs, Maggie chasing after them.

“What are you talking about?”

“I was happy for like, five minutes.”

“What?” Maggie lands at the bottom of the stairs first and stops in front of Alex.

They readjust their bag and shake their head. “I – I’m sorry, this isn’t going to work. It was a mistake. I’m sorry. I can’t.”

A professor slips past them and Alex nods at her. When they turn back, Maggie’s face is unreadable and Alex panics that she’s answered and they’ve missed it.

“Okay.” Maggie takes a breath. There’s a split second where they could jump in and take it all back, but they don’t. “Got it. See you, Danvers.”

No. They wouldn’t miss that.

--

The implications of what they said don’t sink in until they’re opening their door. They freeze in the doorway. Lucy is on the floor in the middle of a plank and Alex stares at the back of her head.

“What’s the difference,” says Alex slowly, “between a fight and a break up?”

Lucy hits the floor and rolls over. “Well, I didn’t see that one coming.” She sits up and Alex inches further into the room. “You think you broke up?”

“I don’t know.” Alex rubs their eyes. “I don’t know, Lucy.”

“Sit.” Lucy points them to her bed and they sink into it. “Start from the beginning.”

Alex recounts it all, monotonously, twisting their hands.

“What do you want to happen now?” Lucy asks when they’ve finished.

“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be here,” says Alex. “I need a drink.”

Lucy watches wordlessly as they open their sock drawer and unscrew the lid of their vodka.

They don’t drink immediately. “I told her we were a mistake.” Alex takes a swig, staring at the scratches on the wall. “I don’t want her to think it’s her that’s the mistake.”

Alex takes a smaller sip then points at Lucy. “You and me, that’s the only remotely normal relationship I’ve had in my life.”

“Watch who you’re calling normal,” Lucy murmurs, her eyes tracking Alex as they start to pace.

“I have an alien for a sister. My dad died in a freak accident which no one is ever going to tell me about, my mom is only interested in me following in his scientific footsteps, and I haven’t spoken to Vicky in years. Maggie is the first person I’ve ever wanted to date, Luce, but she’s too good for someone who can’t balance romance with the rest of their life.”

“Did you tell her that?”

“No.” Alex sips again.

“Call her,” Lucy says. Alex twitches. “Call her and talk to her. Tell her what you told me and give her a chance to respond.”

Alex examines the chemical stains on their hands. “She won’t want to talk to me.”

“And you know that how? With your magical crystal ball?” Lucy reaches for Alex’s phone and scrolls through until she finds Maggie’s number. “Call her. The Alex Danvers I know owns up to their mistakes,” she says frankly, “so go and do that.”

They take the phone but don’t press call. Maggie’s face stares up at them, dimples on full.

“Call her, you useless gay,” Lucy calls from the other end of the bed, and Alex finds the bottle of vodka being prised from their grip. “And therapy time with Lucy is now over.”

--

“Al, it’s your girlfriend.”

Alex takes Lucy’s place at the door and curls their head around it. Maggie’s arms are crossed and she looks like she’d rather be anywhere else than in front of them. When they look at her eyes and see them resigned, they can’t blame her.

“Thanks for coming.”

Maggie’s fingers tighten in the folds of her flannel and she stands straighter. “I almost didn’t.”

Alex takes a step backwards as Maggie barges through and their arm brushes against Lucy, jacket in hand.

“I’ll let you talk,” Lucy says. It’s a good idea, Alex knows, but they want to drag her back and make her mediate this conversation with Maggie, who looks like she’s trying not to slam the door and get of there.

Maggie fixes them with a cold, unwavering stare and they release a long breath. The room behind them is still and quiet, the corner they’re standing in dim with artificial light, and Maggie’s determined, tilted head is silhouetted against the quietly closing door behind her.

“Do you want a drink?”

“Cut to it, Danvers.” Maggie’s voice is tight and Alex isn’t sure what she thinks they’re going to say. They try to school their features into something less terrified and more reassuring. It feels like a pained grimace so they duck their head and grab a beer for themselves, returning to their serious expression.

“I feel like the universe is magically smacking me down from being happy.”

Maggie scoffs a dry laugh. “That’s it? You gotta give me more than that.”

They sort through the speech they prepared, some of it with Lucy, and pick a new starting place.

“Okay. Okay, I,” they nod slowly and try again. “In the bar.”

“Okay.”

“There were all these women coming up to you. Beautiful women, and yet you still came over to me and that - that is confusing.” Alex takes a deep breath. “And I can’t, I just need to know: what do you get out of this relationship?”

Regret tickles their tongue when Maggie flinches away from them.

“What do you get from this relationship, Maggie?”

It’s more of a snap this time and they expect Maggie to flinch again but her eyes soften and no, no, they don’t deserve soft.

“Alex, what are you talking about?”

Maggie reaches for Alex’s hand but they snatch it away and point a finger at her.

“You, you could have had any woman in that bar, any of them, but you settle for me? Me, who - ” They break off and raise their head to glare at the ceiling.

“Alex.” Maggie’s voice is gentle and Alex steels themselves. “What’s going on?”

“I – I – I just need to know why you’re doing this, why me, why – you could have anyone, and I…” they trail off, blinking angrily as their vision starts to blur with tears.

“Being with you isn’t settling, Alex,” Maggie says, voice low, and Alex’s lip curls into a snarl.

“Yeah? I don’t even know what I am or who I am and you don’t deserve that, you deserve someone normal and, and – and not me.”

“Alex.”

“So I figured, I realised, that you’ve got to be in this for another reason, right? There must be something I can give you to make this,” they gesture to themselves in disgust, “worth it.”

“Alex.” Rao, they didn’t mean to hurt her, they didn’t, but there’s pain in Maggie’s eyes now and they can’t look at her because that’s all they do, they are pain, pain for the ones they love and they can’t, they shouldn’t have even tried – “Alex, look at me.”

It takes a deep breath and their knuckles starting to burn from too tight fists for Alex to finally look at her.

“What’s going on?” Maggie repeats, gently, and Alex starts shaking their head. “You can tell me anything.”

They dip their head and their lip trembles but they don’t answer.

“Did something happen at home?”

How. How did she know?

Alex raises their eyes and Maggie gives a small nod, taking a tiny step forward.

“What happened with your mom?”

There’s so much they want to tell Maggie but saying it out loud sounds like a confession of not being able to cope. Not being strong enough.

They roll the words around their mouth. Off-script words now that Lucy may suspect but never hear, they don’t know, they can’t tell if these words are obvious to anyone but them. They tug at them, arranging them into an order that burns like a brand on their tongue and then they can’t hold them in any longer.

“It’s relentless in that house,” they whisper. “It’s constant. She and her and sister and daughter and I get back here and suddenly I can be they again and I can be happy being me without feeling like I’m supposed to be ashamed of it. You make me so happy, Maggie, but spending time in that house makes me wonder how much I deserve it.”

“Alex.” She sounds like she wants to jump in but if they don’t get this out now they never will so they hold up a hand, a tiny wave, and she nods.

“You know, I have always felt so…responsible. Like, weight of the world responsible. And my parents always relied on me to watch over my sister, so the few times that I did anything for myself, it ended badly, and now I remember why.”

Alex runs a hand through their hair. They’ve never talked about this before. They can’t tell Kara about it. They don’t want to tell Lucy about it and chance pointing out even more differences between them and Kara, and Lucy and Lois.

“My sister… she deserves the world. And when I can give that to her, a safe home away from whatever the kids at school do or say, that’s huge, and I’ve always, always known that I will do anything to protect her including forfeiting myself because when Mom and I get going, it effects Kara. I can’t protect Kara when I’m putting me first.”

It feels like Kara’s squeezing all the air out of their chest and they wrap their arms around themselves, before shaking their head in bewilderment.

“I’ve never doubted myself so much, you know. And I want to be able to say that what my mom thinks doesn’t matter to me but it does. I’ve never doubted that I know myself but…” Alex exhales and shrugs.  “Maybe she’s right and this is just a phase.”

“No,” Maggie says firmly, so firmly that Alex’s heart settles instantly. “This is real. You are real. And you deserve a real, full, happy life, as you, in the identity that fits you best. None of us can tell you what you’re feeling, Alex, but whatever it is, it is valid. It is real.”

They search her eyes for the caveat, but there’s just earnest, ferocious, fiery love.

“So.” They puff out their cheeks and gradually blow them out. “That’s what happened. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

Maggie steps back and looks at them for a long time before speaking. “We’ve both got ghosts,” she tells Alex, and Maggie’s eyes glaze over briefly as though one of those ghosts has materialised behind them, “but I don’t want this to become one of them.”

Alex reaches for Maggie’s hand. “It won’t.”

“It will if we don’t start talking about this stuff.”

They don’t respond immediately. They run their thumb over the back of Maggie’s hand and let the ripples in their stomach die away.

“Okay.”

“Okay.” Maggie squeezes their hand. “Because when you went running off on me, saying we were a mistake, I thought I’d done something wrong.”

Alex’s eyes widen in horror. “Maggie, no - ”

“You made my decision for me, you decided it would be better for me to not be with you, and I didn’t get a say.” Maggie takes a deep breath. “That’s not fair on me. I deserve more than that.”

Alex tries to imagine what happened to Maggie to make her words hold a note of uncertainty underlined with pride. They nod. “I know.”

“And you don’t have to tell me the details, okay? Just don’t run without an explanation. I can’t stop bad things happening to you but I can help you through them and I deserve to be allowed to make the choice to do that.”

There’s a moment of silence, Maggie steadfastly holding Alex’s gaze as firmly as she’s holding their hand.

“You were never the mistake,” says Alex quietly. “You’re not a mistake. You’re real too.”

The hug Maggie draws them into feels more real than anything they’ve felt in the last week and they melt into her arms, suddenly and brilliantly completely in the moment.

--

Alex stirs and tries to roll over to look at the time. A weight pinning them down stops them and they freeze. Looking down at where dark hair peeks out of the top of their duvet, they smile at the sight of Maggie curled tightly on top of them, nose squished into their chest.

Alex snakes out an arm and flaps it towards their phone, little finger snagging the charger and sending it crashing to the floor. Maggie opens one eye, sees Alex where she expects them to be, and closes it again.

They swear under their breath when Lucy grunts at them and hope she doesn’t notice Maggie repositioning herself.

“Danvers?” says Lucy groggily.

“Lane?” Alex answers as quietly as they can. Maggie’s hand flops onto their mouth and sleepy eyes peer up at them.

“Shhhhhhhh,” she says with the coherence of someone still half-asleep. Lucy is suddenly awake and peeling the covers off them both. Alex pushes her away with their free hand and Lucy dodges it, snickering.

“Cosy.”

“Cold!” Maggie complains until Lucy’s presence registers in her mind and she stiffens. She squirms around as Alex’s hand rubs her arm reassuringly and she tries to pull the covers back over her head to shield her eyes from the harsh light of the lamp Lucy had decided to turn on.

“Lucy, what are you – no!” Alex half lunges towards Lucy as she grabs their phone from the floor and pulls up the camera.

“Smile,” says Lucy. Maggie groans and mumbles something that neither of the other two catch, holding onto Alex as they spill out of bed in slow motion. Maggie clings to Alex like a koala and they end up in a heap with their legs still tangled in the sheets.

“Lucy fucking Lane,” Alex starts, spitting out a mouthful of hair. “You delete that right now.”

“You kiss your girl with that mouth, Danvers?”

“Yeah,” Maggie declares from Alex’s neck. “They do.”

Lucy watches as Alex’s gaze softens and their entire body melts into Maggie. “I see you two have made up.”

Maggie stiffens again.

“Yeah,” says Alex quietly. “We talked.”

Lucy smirks. “Looks like more than just talking.” Alex throws a pillow at her head. “Can I interest you two nerds in coffee, or should I get my books and go?”

Maggie wriggles into a sitting position and clutches the sheets to her chest. “Coffee.”

“We could get coffee later.” Alex hooks their foot under Maggie’s knee and tries to pull her back down.

“Coffee,” Maggie says more firmly, glancing up at Lucy who squints at Alex with an unreadable expression. Alex looks between them and sighs. They roll onto their side and prop their head up with their hand.

“Fine.”

--

Alex walks between Lucy and Maggie on the way to the café. They keep hold of Maggie’s hand even as they slide onto the bench after her.

Across the table, they see Lucy not so subtly take another photo of them but as they inhale the heavenly coffee fumes they find they don’t care – or at least, they care less than they did that morning, because Maggie’s hand in theirs is small and warm and Lucy’s knee knocking against theirs is so Lucy and familiar, and the messages appearing on their phone screen from Kara in response to what they can only assume is Lucy’s photos is so expected and sisterly and they’re not really okay, but they’re happy, and that’ll do for now.

[shazyloren]

The Dragon Club: Chapter 19 - Papers and Elephants

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12018519/chapters/27728961

---------

Jon and Daenerys didn't see anything of each other over the next two weeks, however they did text each other nearly everyday, getting to know a little about each other bit by bit. They would also correspond about the photoshoot which Daenerys had planned but unfortunately, it had been pushed back until three days later than scheduled due to a double booking.

This meant Daenerys was in her office all day making sure all the pieces she'd already received from her writers and photographers were properly edited and ready to go into the April issue. Once the shoot and interview was done she would need Jon to write as quickly as possible as so to make the deadline in 8 days time.

It was midday and Daenerys had not been interrupted since she got to work. She was going spare over the amount of stuff she was having to cut down as all the stuff she received was exceptionally high quality. "Seven hells"

She took a mini-break, opening her lunch box that was in the mini fridge under her desk and eating her salmon and cress sandwich, She did so closing her eyes, she thought that perhaps if she didn't look at anything while she was eating this headache she was seemingly achieving would go away. It worked for a few minutes, that was enough.

As she looked at her desk, there was just a large mass of papers and photos. Her computer had the layout of her magazine on and most of the pages were filled with the different articles she'd already got. There was a 10 page space in the middle she was leaving for the cover shoot and article plus a bunch of one page spaces throughout.

Why did editing magazines have to be so hard?

Daenerys had always struggled with this part, she knew the vision in her head and she knew what articles she wanted, the layout was just always a pain. She liked the magazine to flow, one article into another. It was why she'd won editing awards, because of how picky she is when it comes to layout.

It was another hour before anyone else disturbed her again, Missandei poking her head around the corner. "Sorry to disturb you, Miss. Targaryen, but Marco Lambertini from the WWF is here to discuss your limited edition magazine coming out in August"

"Ah yes, give me one moment and allow me to clear up" Daenerys had forgotten all about it, but she too had been doing plans to give back to the WWF from proceeds of her magazine by doing a limited edition version in which it's all about animals and wildlife and endangered species.

From early setting up of Valyrian, she said no fur would be used in the photos of her magazine (especially that of minx and tiger skin). She had also not used leather in the magazine (even if she has leather bags at home) and this had been applauded by people in the fashion and makeup industry.

"Very well" Missandei bowed her head and left the room. Daenerys was feeling a little stressed to say the  least so a nice conversation would release the pressure she was feeling in her head from staring at a screen for hours on end. She tidied her desk up as best as she could; putting photos and articles in all the drawers of her desk and just leaving the planner on her table.

As she opened her planner she saw Jon's name scribbled on Friday 16th February, the photoshoot. Daenerys felt her heart skip. In three days she would see his face again. She remembered all those things he had said, about this mysterious girlfriend of his past, her death, how lonely he feels and how... alive and distracted he felt around her. He had been very closed off from her, and she hadn't liked it. She knew that even his siblings probably didn't know what he was feeling, and so she was thankful that after all the interrogation of her he'd finally let her in slightly. But she still couldn't help feel like she knew him less than before too, there was no mystery around him anymore, or at least not as much as there had been.

Jon had pretty much not left her thoughts since Daario drove her home from the wedding. She'd gone to bed when she got home at six in the morning and had found herself lying awake another hour thinking of him. And even though the thought of this still embarrassed her, she had found her hand touching herself while she thought of him. It had been so long since she'd had anyone and he had filled her senses so deeply that her brain had stopped functioning and her body had taken over.

Shaking herself from thoughts of Jon, and of an aching that has begun in her thighs, she rang Missandei's phone just outside her office and said she was ready for this man to come in. She stood from her desk and looked out the window, as she always did before a meeting, just to calm herself and take in the view. The door swung open and an aging white man with barely any hair stepped through the door. "Marco, is it?"

"Indeed" He said, not used to being addressed so casually. Dany smirked, she was going to have the upper hand in this conversation. Dany motioned for him to take a seat after they shook hands. "I have to say, I was surprised you were okay with this meeting going forward after your disaster meeting which made the headlines"

Daenerys just laughed. "Jon Snow is harmless, well, he's actually become a friend over the last week or so"

"So I've heard" She smiled like how Daenerys would imagine a super-villain to smile, as if he was taunting her almost.

"The dear old media, love to go after things and make big headlines out of nonsense" Dany sat in her own seat and got out her planning for the magazine. "So, why have you come today, Mr. Lambertini? To press me about my personal life?"

"My dear your personal life has nothing to do with this magazine we're working on" He leered almost. Dany found the man repulsive slightly.

"Has there been an issue with the progress of our collaboration, then?" Dany said with authority as she got comfortable in her seat.

"No issue; we want to propose you something" He said getting a leaflet out of his pocket. He slid it over the desk.

"Udawalawe National Park?" She said picking up the leaflet. It was a guide of one of Sri Lanka's biggest Elephant reserves. "What's this about?"

"We want you to go to Sri Lanka, to the reserve" He said with a face which she knew he was putting on to get sympathy from her. "This is one of the reserves we protect in Sri Lanka, the elephants are found in the wild outside the boundaries of the park when they're in need of medical attention. We help fix them up and even help them mate in the park to build up numbers"

He slid some photos of baby elephants with the park rangers and himself feeding them. "It looks happy"

"That's Whispers, she's only 6 months old in that photo. I just got back four weeks ago" He informed her.

"Precious" Dany felt her face smiling brightly.

"We'd really like for you to go, even just for a few days and interact with the elephants there; just to get a feel of why we do our work"

"You want me to visit Sri Lanka?" Dany had never thought about that.

"We can provide you with a photographer and videographer, then, when we launch the magazine we can launch the small video with you of your experience. It'll be good publicity since the bad press you received ages ago" She actually found herself agreeing, she could do with the good press.

"Not a bad idea and to be honest with you, Marco, I'm in need of a change of scenery" She thought about it some more. Photographer? She could ask... No he won't do it, he's already doing you one favour. Daenerys did have another thought though. "Okay, you've got yourself a deal. Now, my idea"

He leaned back in his chair. "Shoot"

"If I'm going to this reserve, and that video releases, there will be a lot of people wanting to visit. So, how about in the back of the issue we have a little competition for a week's holiday in Sri Lanka, all payed for by me, right by Udawalawe National Park?" Marco smiled. They spoke for another few minutes before Daenerys mind was back onto Jon. Marco left after a handshake and a promise of further contact; but all Daenerys thought of, was the curls and the grey eyes she was going to be seeing in a few days time.

Missandei left Daenerys for the rest of the afternoon; Jorah took her home and once she'd eaten dinner she'd retreated to her bedroom for the night. The black walls and red silks, the four poster bed and the pillows so soft. Her own silk nightdress mingling with that of her bedding as her hand travelled up her own thigh, finding her sweet spot, thinking of Jon's eyes and her release afterward.

Daenerys went to sleep dreaming of those eyes and the warmth that enveloped her when he was around.