#please give more more picture allotment

[saltygilmores]

Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls, Season 2, Episode 18: Back In The Saddle. Part Six

Part 1 Part 2 Part 2½ Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Really thought this was just gonna be a cute filler episode I could whack off (lol) in like 2 or 3 parts but somehow we're on part 6? My longest review EVER both in number of parts and also in words? (A Tisket A Tasket may have gone on for 10 parts had Lorelai not made me rage quit).

How the hell did we get here? Oh.

Mark my words. I will hunt you both for sport. The only saving grace here is that our favorite pornographic film, Insatiable Cougar Does Her Daughter's Boyfriend, will mercifully cum to an end in about 1 minute and the remainder of the episode will return to pointless filler once more. I just realized there is no Jess in this episode, at all. Not even a counter-wiping scene stuck on at the end. BOO. Dean is confused by this concept of giving Rory "personal space" so Lorelai, of all people, is going to try to explain it to him like he's 5. No, literally, he does not know what "Space" means. Behold!

Absolutely breathtaking. The audacity of Lorelai Gilmore to gently tell Dean that Rory needs "just a little bit of space" after his behavior in this episode that fits the legal definitions of stalking and harrasment (I looked them up, lol). Where does she find it?

Did your parents spoon feed you lead paint chips as a child? How can one person be this fucking dumb? How have your remaining brain cells not yeeted themselves out of your head already?

"I... don't understand."

Rory Gilmore, you are in grave danger. Your mother is so blinded by her DeanLust she is throwing you to the lions (again).

Never ever, Dean. She's going to give you a sloppy beej when this talk is over. L (flirtily): If I was trying to get rid of you, I'd start telling you stories about my family! Har har har! You're soooo funny, Lorelai Gilmore!

L: I'm not telling you this to try to get rid of you, but to help things between you guys. Just try it! Ms. Gilmore, please explain to the court where Rory asked for your help. Just try not be doing a scary douchecanoe for one hour, Dean. I know that seems like a Herculean task, my man. But just try it.

"Wash my car"-stick your dick in my mouth"

What sexual favor is "a soda” code for, as she's asked him twice already (he keeps sounding reluctant to accept, so I am to assume it’s some freaky thing that only comes with the experience of a much older woman, and he’s nervous about his first time).

Whew. That had to be the most overwhelming sexual tension I've had the misfortune of witnessing thus far on my Gilmore Girls hell-journey. I'm scarred. It's going to be imposible to remove from my psyche, stuck there like chewed gum, or like Jess Mariano's sidewalk drawings. And I thought nothing could ever eclipse these levels of sexual tension:

Or one of the many instances of this

No, this one beats em all by a mile. The big difference being that the other scenes make me want to throw up my hands and rejoice, while this scene made me want to throw up my intestines.

ARE YOU DONE?!

The remainder of the episode contains the conclusion of the z plot involving MIchel's mother which I've barely paid attention to.

Michel is mad at Lorelai because she overstepped her boundaries once more, so that's good. Let the hatred flow my man! I need to recruit as many soldiers as possible for my Anti Lorelai Gilmore army. Take your anger a step further and report her to the labor board in Connecticut for her undoubtedly shaky bookkeeping, close down the whole operation, send her out to the streets and Rory into a nice foster home, and you can find a nice job at a real hotel. Am I thinking too far ahead again?

"The lunchbox of the new Millenium." or the RX 2002 First Aid Kit? Which lame-o creation which would only excite the most lifeless of Teens will emerge victorious?

Now here's some sexual tension I don't mind. Thank god. I needed relief.

And another sucky competitor throws its hat in the ring!

Spoiler alert: they are not it.

The part where he finishes these sentences with "including yours" must have gotten left on the editing room floor.

Just another reminder that Madelyn over there in the background invented the smart speaker, and Rory said her smart speaker couldn't be made because no one at Chilton knew how to build a robot, but there's a sign behind her for an invention called "The robotic dissector", whatever the hell that is. They should have had those dudes on their team, because every single person on the RX 2002 development team was completely dead weight except for Paris.

I totally forgot about this other male douchecanoe. WTF is a "hose hook"? And a locker refrigerator? WHAT? I thought these were supposed to be practical inventions? Why is every invention so god damn terrible? How can Douchecanoe Charleston possibly choose a winner? I can never un-know Charleston as Doug Heffernan's dad on one of my favorite shows, King Of Queens, where he had a completely different accent and not the quasi-British thing he's got going on.

The Locker Alarm wins. Grown Adult Man Richard Gilmore take this loss of a high school invention fair, one his granddaughter contributed nothing to, quite personal. In a tired sequence of events that we have already seen unfold many times before and one which will unfold to the extreme in the next episode, something unfortunate but hardly life altering happens to Rory that she takes in total stride while the adults in her life invalidate her feelings and lose their shit on her behalf anyway. If you guessed “Richard is having a coronary over Rory's loss at a silly school business fair and Rory could not care less”, come on down and collect your prize.

R: You've all put in an extrodinary amount of time, effort, and thought into this. Rory's entire contribution to the project was "This is amazing. I want one of these." Richard is not having it and he is taking it up with DCC. I get the sense this is not actually about Rory at all and is really some kind of Old Man Vs. Old Man Personal Beef about stocks and bonds or golf or something.

In what should come as a surprise to no one, I was right about something again 😁 turns out Richard was bored with retirement or something, so his solution was to take out his frustration on Douche Canoe Charleston because he knew him from Old Man Business Land, and he was jealous DCC had a job? And he didn’t care if he humiliated Rory in the process. I have no more room for screen shots and I refuse to make this a seven parter so you're going to have to use your imagination for the last 8 minutes, kay? Rory expresses to Richard that she's okay with the loss and she does not want Richard to bring this up to the principal but he doesn't listen to her. He says she was robbed and he is not going to sit back and let it go! ARGH!! My poor girl!!! Richard complains to the Manager while Rory has to sit back and watch and while wishing Lorelai would just dump her off with some strange relative like Liz did to Jess so she didn't have to be part of this awful family. Richard to DCC: Out there in the real world, there is no way a locker alarm would be a viable business investment! It's a school that should be training children for the real world! Oh, right, a locker alarm is useless, but a lunchbox full of band aids isn't. The only ground Richard has to stand on here is that if the best minds in this expensive school can't create anything better than a "hose hook" and a "locker refrigerator" then indeed, their educators are clearly failing them. If Richard and Emily had raised Rory instead of Lorelai, you know Richard would have been picking a fight with Rory's kindergarten teacher if she came in second place in the class spelling bee. Richard: I DEMAND A RECOUNT! DCC: Richard, this is not the real world, this is just school. This is so embarrassing. Rory should go on and pull the fire alarms and evacuate the school just to put an end to this humiliation. I feel like every time I have stated "I got no problems with Richard" at the beginning of an episode I've been so, so wrong. I'll stop doing that from now on. At Friday night dinner, Richard is sulking in his room like a baby over his granddaughter's loss at a high school inventors fair, and Lorelai GIlmore, of all people, suggests to Emily he should go to therapy, because "there's nothing wrong with getting help". Does Lorelai ever listen to herself? Where does she keep finding the nerve to advise other people to do things that she refuses to do herself? Clean up your own house first, woman. Emily of course responds that therapy is only for deviants, people with multiple personalties, and disturbed people who lick parking meters and think their dogs can talk. And so another week goes by where all four Gilmores push their numerous emotional traumas deep, deep down inside once more where they can continue to bubble and fester. Things aren't looking too good for little Chaz Gilmore, Rory's son, to break the cycle. (I've decided Rory has a boy just to throw the whole darn Gilmore Woman dynamic off its axis and give things a little pizzazz). (but what would Rory name a boy? Please do not say "Jess Jr." ) After hours of sulking, Richard emerges from his room chipper as a daisy asking for dinner, confusing us all. We come to find out that due to Rory's non-contribution to the invention of a Lunchbox full of Band Aids, Richard has been inspired to come out of retirement. That makes a whole lot of sense. Rory recieves a page from Dean on the way home from FND and Lorelai is pleased as fucking fruit punch to learn that her sloppy but satisfying sexual services earlier in the kitchen were enough to convince Dean to reduce his harassment down to one page per two days. Rory states he hasn't "Called or mysteriously appeared next to me" in two days! Lorelai is pleased that he's "calming down"! The bar is so low! Rory is relieved to get some breathing room from Dean, so to celebrate, Lorelai encourages Rory to call him anyway, then when Rory says no Lorelai asks if she’s super duper sure that she doesn’t want to call Dean.

You can keep your corny little froo froo sitcoms where people learn valuable life lessons at the end of every episode. No one ever learns anything or betters themselves on Gilmore Girls and that’s the way we like it.

Lorelai arrives home, late at night, after dropping Rory off at Lane's house (weird turn of events, but OK, I'm sure this is going to be some kind of set up for Teach Me Tonight) to find Dean sitting on her porch, sulking. Despite the fact that this is the second time in one day that he has shown up at her house to wait for Rory completely unannounced, Lorelai does not find his repeat behavior the least bit concerning. Little baby is pouting and trespassing on private property because he really struggled and put his four brain cells to work to come to a conclusion: his repeated harrassment towards Rory, for some strange reason, isn't endearing her to him, so she may just prefer the company of Jess instead of a DoucheCanoe Wtihout A Paddle. Lorelai merely sticks out her lower lip, gives him some puppy dog eyes, and pities this poor dumb creature who she has an unbearable, aching sexual attraction to. Then he walks off into the night, hopefully over a steep embankment into a pit of alligators. Goodnight.

[nickfowlerrr]

i never thought you’d happen to me - 2

part one / part three

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. smut, fluff, bit of angst. time travel via magic. dad!bucky and mom!reader. steve x nat. some morally dubious homemade porn viewing 💀. if i’m missing anything that should be tagged, please lmk!

words: 6.7k

notes: this idea came from a prompt post i saw not too long ago and coincidentally fell into some bingo spots for my @the-slumberparty bingo card. fair warning: this is so completely self indulgent and a little trope overload lol but i had such a good time working on it and it was fun to write so who really cares 😌 thank you in advance for reading and reblogging! as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome and so appreciated. please let me know what you think!

Back at the house, your house, you wander around the living room as Bucky sits on the tablet in the kitchen, consumed by whatever it is he's looking through.

You stop at the large bookshelf that's screwed into the wall, the picture frames all around catching your attention.

You smile at the baby pictures of the twins, admiring their tiny faces as you and Bucky each hold one, looking down at them like they were the only things in the world that mattered. You note how close you are to Bucky in the photo, practically in his lap as you lean into him.

Your eyes drift down the case before landing on a gorgeous shot, breathtaking, really.

You're in white, the elegant dress you don seemingly straight out of your dreams as you recline into Bucky who stands behind you, his arms around your waist as your hands cover his. You're smiling as he appears to be whispering something in your ear, a smile of his own evident as he does.

It's intimate and delicate and it seizes your heart as you can't seem to take your eyes off of it.

Your mind can't seem to make sense of it, though.

How do you get from here to there? How can you ever have this life? It seems so unreal.

Bucky can’t stand you more than half the time,  he's made that fact abundantly clear. So how the hell does he go from that to this? What changes? Why?

The sound of your name being called gets your attention as you wipe at your welling eyes. You hadn't noticed it happening, but you felt it when you finally blinked and looked away from the photo.

"Yeah?"

"My card is linked to this thing apparently, I was gonna order food."

"Okay," you breathe.

"What do you want?"

"I don't care. Whatever is fine," you brush off as you finally turn around and meet his eye. "I'm gonna shower."

He doesn't respond, but he doesn't take his eyes off of you either, watching you intently as you pass him and walk back to the room.

----

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. The car ride back to the house seemed longer without the twins there to distract you from your close proximity to Bucky. And being alone together once you finally got back, despite the huge space allotted to you in this house, still seemed stifling. There was a growing tension between you that was more than ready to break.

You weren’t unfamiliar with the feeling. 

It seemed to be ever present when you two were around each other and only intensified the longer you were alone with one another. 

As you began undressing, starting the water for your shower, your mind wandered to the last time you found yourself in such close quarters with him. 

You were both beyond exhausted when you’d gotten back to the tower after your mission. It hadn’t gone as smoothly as anyone would have hoped, but you got the job done, if not just a little worse for wear. 

You were leaning against the right side of the elevator, facing the door as Bucky stood closer to the left side, facing the same direction as you. It was quiet, and though your body was sore beyond belief, you mentally chided yourself for not just taking the stairs. You’d just finished giving him a piece of your mind after he made yet another unhelpful comment about how you could have easily avoided being flung down a flight of stairs earlier. 

Crazy as it might have seemed, receiving a play by play of every tiny misstep you’d taken after a mission as grueling as that one didn’t go over too well with you. Especially as you stood with bandaged ribs, miscellaneous cuts, bumps, and bruises all over your body, and what you were sure was a concussion causing the throbbing in your head. 

You closed your eyes as you let your head rest against the wall, one hand on the rail and the other holding your duffel. 

A sudden jerking had your eyes snapping open as you held tighter to the railing to keep your balance, the light above shutting off briefly before a dimmer one returned as the elevator completely stopped moving.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you groused under your breath before sinking down to the floor in utter exhaustion. The elevator had been on the fritz since before you had even left for the mission last week, you assumed they would’ve gotten it fixed by the time you returned. Clearly you were wrong.

You watched as Bucky hit random buttons on the panel in front of him in a vain attempt to get the thing to move again. You wanted to say something snarky but just sighed exaggeratedly instead. After a moment, still no words spoken between either of you, Bucky took out his emergency phone and called for help.

You didn’t pay much attention to his conversation as the pressure in your head grew, but his next words caught your attention completely. 

“What the hell do you mean an hour?” he nearly growled into the phone. 

You couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation well but there were only so many people he could have called at this hour that would be able to help and the snicker that made its way through the line had you betting on Stark.

He hung up and chanced a glance to you, meeting your gaze. “Might be a while,” he huffed before looking away. 

He approached the doors of the elevator and you winced at the sound they emitted as he pulled them open slightly. He was greeted by nothing but the walls of the elevator shaft before he allowed the doors to close again. You watched as he checked the time on his phone before he sat down himself. You let your eyes shut again, your tiredness winning out in the quiet settling over you. It was maybe ten minutes later when you were rudely awoken by Bucky.

You were impressed with his bravery because you could still feel your irritation roiling off of you from your earlier exchange. Your eyes were still closed when you felt his fingers brush against the bruise on your jaw. 

“What?” you asked harshly, swatting his hand away from you as you shot daggers at him with your glare.

“Considering how often you find yourself in the med bay, you’d think you’d know the basics of what not to do when it comes to head trauma.” 

“Jesus Christ, you just never fucking stop, do you,” you huffed before snapping completely. “I get it, Bucky, okay? I’m a fuck up, I’m reckless and careless and I don’t think before I act, is that what you wanna hear? Are you happy now? I admit it! I’m everything you say I am. But at the end of the day, I have never put you or anyone else in harm’s way. And just a reminder, I got the files and took out everyone I needed to along the way by myself. So I don’t know, maybe give me a little fucking credit for once,” you raged, the pain in your body only adding to your anger.

“This isn’t about me or the mission getting done or anyone else,” he fired back, his tone catching you off guard, though you refused to show it, “I’m never worried about any of that. But you are careless. Look at you! You put yourself in needless danger over and over again, and yeah, it pisses me off. You always end up hurt when you never should have been in the position to get hurt to begin with. You think I enjoy seeing you like this? I’m your partner, I’m the one who’s supposed to have your back and yet every assignment, you continue to go out of your way to make it damn near impossible for me to do.”

“Your job isn’t to keep me from getting hurt,” you deflected, not wanting to focus on the way his words were making you feel as you flicked your eyes away from his burning blue ones. It was too confusing. A mix of care and chastation you were having trouble processing at once. 

“And yours isn’t to get killed in some pathetic attempt to prove yourself,” he shot back before his tone quieted significantly. “You have nothing to prove,” he finished. 

Your gaze softened at that, a sense of embarrassment coming over you at how clearly he saw through you; The simultaneous feeling of validation his last words offered had the previous tension you felt in your anger lightening before you let your eyes slowly return to his.

There was a thick silence between you as you looked at one another, nothing but your slowing breaths to be heard. His gaze wasn’t as harsh now, but it still took a lot out of you to hold it. The intensity his eyes held was unmatched. You hadn’t realized before, how much closer he had gotten to you, but it was evident now as you nearly felt yourself buzzing - suddenly all too aware of everything in the confined void you’d found yourselves in. 

And then, you couldn’t say why or how, but you found your eyes falling to his lips. A stuttered breath leaving you as inadvertently leaned in a bit closer to him. 

That wasn’t you, though, you’d realized after a split second, one hand reaching up to hold the rail. 

The elevator jolted a bit as it began to move again, only a few seconds passing before the ding signaling its arrival at the top floor sounded. You were still looking at one another, maybe more intensely than you’d realized, when the doors slid open.

“Uh-oh, did I interrupt something? Let me guess, lover’s quarrel?”

Your gaze quickly turned into a glare as you both turned to see Tony waiting at the doors for you.

You rolled your eyes and got up as quickly as you could, trying to hide your winces of pain as you did. 

“Fuck off,” you said as you brushed past him.

“Is that your catchphrase now?” he called after you, “Ya know, I like it, it suits you.”

You remember how embarrassed you were after that night, praying that Bucky hadn’t noticed where your eyes had drifted to, or if he did that he’d have the decency to pretend he hadn’t. You’d chalked it up to a moment of weakness. You weren’t stupid enough to expect him to return your (very well kept to yourself) feelings. You never expected anything out of him, and honestly you’d been trying to shake them yourself since you’d been partnered up. You avoided him for a good week straight after that night, and neither of you has brought it up since.

Even now, you could pretend all you wanted that those feelings didn’t exist, but deep down, you knew they were alive and well. And clearly, as you looked again at the picture of you and Bucky sitting on the bedside table, it wasn’t something you could believably go on denying much longer.

The shower helped. Kind of. You feel better physically, but your mind is still dead set on trying to figure out the future. You take your time drying off and getting into a clean pair of pajamas while Bucky waits in the kitchen.

He's scrolling through every app he can, trying to piece together his future as it stands. And if he's being honest, trying to figure out how the hell he was able to get you to stop hating him. How he was able to get you to fall in love with him..

He opens up the photo library, grinning as he sees photo after photo of the twins, and some family photos, pictures of you, pictures of him, intermingled in.

He backs out of the gallery and scrolls down mindlessly through the albums. His eyes land on the "Hidden" tab and he clicks on it without too much thought, his face unlocking it and granting him access.

His eyes go wide, his mouth goes dry at the images that liter the screen. 

He should close out, look away, something, but he doesn't. The scandalous photos grab him and he just can't. One icon in particular catches his eye and he clicks on it without thinking, the video playing instantly.

He watches the screen intently, hunching over the tablet as he holds it tightly in his hands. Sees himself leave from in front of the camera, his movement revealing you as you wait for him on your bed. You're peering up at him attentively as he approaches you before you spare a glance to the camera and then back to him. A soft smirk playing on your lips as he towers over you, causing you to look up further and further as you recline until you’re on your back. 

“Hi,” you simper breathily, earning a smirk from him in return.

“Hi,” he breathed, leaning ever closer.

He watches as you scoot back on the bed and he follows you, his hands tracing down your curves, fingers playing with the material of your lingerie before he drops his head and begins trailing kisses from the softness of your stomach, up your sternum and along your neck before finally your lips meet.

Bucky is completely enraptured in the scene playing out before his very eyes. He’s sitting here feeling jealous of himself as you run your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to you before you bring a leg up around his hip, arching your body into his own.

It’s sensual at first but you both seem to grow impatient quickly as your kissing heats up and becomes more and more hungry. 

Finally, you slip a hand down and tug at the waistband of his boxers until he pulls away. 

Bucky can see your face perfectly, your eyes are dark as you push yourself up onto your forearms, watching him.

Instead of ridding himself of his boxers right away, he slowly, teasingly drags your silky underwear down your thick thighs as you watch him with heavy eyes, your legs spread just for him.

“Look at the camera,” he hears his own voice command.

Your eyes flick from him to the lens as Bucky swallows thickly, still completely unable to look anywhere but you. 

You gasp suddenly as he quickly buries his face between your thighs, your fingers tightening in his hair as your head lolls back some. Your soft moans begin tumbling past your lips as he focuses his attention solely on you, devoted and unrelenting as you mewl and writhe under his ministrations.

When a whimper of his name leaves you, it causes Bucky to shift in his seat, trying to ease the ache growing in his shorts as he watches you rock yourself against his face.

“Buck,” you moan, “please,” you whine with a tug of his hair. 

He watches as your toes curl, feet arching, and your entire body seems to tense around him, your eyes squeezing shut as your mouth hangs open until your legs quake and you let out a tight, shaky whimper on an exhale. You bite your knuckle in an attempt to keep yourself quiet while he continues working you through your orgasm. 

When he finally lets up and gives you a chance to collect yourself, he moves up your body, finding your lips as he kisses you again, leaving you even more breathless than you had been.

“It’s just you and me tonight, doll. Don’t hold back on me,” he kisses you again, his hands going around your back to undo your bra. “I’m gonna wanna hear you when I watch this back,” he smirks.

You're completely naked as Bucky stands before you, finally taking off his boxers. “Turn around for me,” he tells you. 

You do as he says, getting on all fours with him situated perfectly behind you. He angles you both so the camera has a better view. Bucky watches as he teases your entrance with his tip, over and over again as you whine and wiggle your ass in pure desperation for him.

He keeps the volume low as he lets the video play, he isn’t sure how much time passes as his eyes are glued to the screen, watching himself take you as you let him. He listens to how prettily you cry for him, to the salacious sounds of his cock driving into you over and over, the wet squelching mixing with the slapping of skin as he fucks you hard.

Bucky feels his cock twitching in his shorts as he watches you come for him before hearing himself groan deeply, moaning while he empties his load into your pretty cunt.

He watches the come down, sees himself running his hands along your skin, peppering kisses all over your body, before you roll over beneath him, pulling him down to you and kissing him desperately.

He is entirely unsure about the morality of this all, but he can't look away.

"Fuck, you're amazing," he breathes heavily as he pulls away from you just so. "Thank you, sweetheart," he grins lazily, stroking your cheek.

"Mmm,” you hum contentedly as you look up at him before continuing, “If anyone ever sees this, I'll kill you," you promise him with an 'I mean it' stare before pulling him back to you, crashing your lips together.

"No one'll see it, doll. I promise. For my eyes only," he says as he nuzzles into you. "You have no idea how much I miss you when I'm gone, baby."

"I think I have some idea," you respond, the sultry tone of your voice effortless as you wrap a leg around him.

It looks like you're about to go for another round, and the thirty minutes left in the video seem to confirm that thought, when Bucky hears the door of the bedroom finally opening.

He quickly closes out of the video, sliding the tablet away from himself before trying to hide and adjust his very obvious erection before you come in.

He clears his throat loudly, a bit awkwardly, as you enter the kitchen, earning a questioning brow from you as you walk toward the pizza box.

"You good?" you ask him as you grab a slice, not bothering with a plate.

He nods a bit too stiffly for your liking as you assess him. His cheeks are a little flush and he can't seem to look you in the eye.

"What did you do?" you question accusatorily.

"Nothing. I'm gonna shower now, if that's alright with you?" he questions haughtily.

You make a face at his tone, rolling your eyes as you turn around to grab a glass for water.

He doesn't mean for it to happen, but as you turn from him, his eyes fall to your ass, and he has to work to stop the groan that threatens to tumble from his lips as his mind replays the video for him.

Fucking creep, he chides himself as his cock twitches again. He takes the opportunity to stand and get to the bathroom as your back is to him.

---

You're on your third piece of pizza when Bucky returns to the kitchen, grabbing a slice for himself.

He's spent the last half hour going over in his mind exactly how you two could have possibly ended up here. He's still confused. And at his wit’s end.

Bucky speaks before he can think better of it.

"Why do you hate me?" he asks, seemingly out of the blue, causing you to turn toward him with quizzical eyes as you swallow your bite.

"Excuse me?" you ask in disbelief.

"Why do you hate me?" he repeats himself, his gaze never faltering as he holds your stare.

You're honestly dumbfounded.

You sputter for a second before attempting to form actual words. "I don't hate you, Bucky," you answer as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. And seeing your future, you were pretty sure it must have been. "I mean, clearly," you add a little embarrassed for yourself.

"No? Then why do you act like you do?"

"I -,” you’re about to deny the accusation, but truthfully, you know he’s right. So you pause before giving the only answer you can come up with. “I don't know. Self-preservation?"

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Defense mechanism. I mean, you've been a complete dick to me since day one, Bucky. Am I supposed to just let you ream me whenever you feel like it - justified or not. And for the record, most of the time, it's not. You treat me differently from everyone else, sidelining me over nothing, questioning my every move, and I don't know why but I stopped trying to figure it out a while ago," you spoke candidly.

He was quiet for a minute as he took in your words. You watched as his brows furrowed, his gaze dropping as he licked his lips mindlessly.

"I'm sorry," he finally said at last. It was soft, but sincere as a pained look seemed to have taken over his face. "I never meant to make you feel that way. But clearly I did. It's just.. you're so stubborn," he says with a shake of his head as his eyes meet yours once again. "I do treat you differently. Because, truthfully, you fucking terrify me. You can be reckless; you act like you're expendable, and you're not. You're the furthest thing from it. I just don't want to see you get hurt. And maybe I was too scared to actually voice that aloud before, but it is the truth. I don't know, I guess, I thought I was keeping you safe somehow, protecting you. And I know you don't need me to. I'm sorry. For being a dick, for interfering when I shouldn't have, and for not talking to you about things before. I am sorry."

You’re silent and quietly awed at his admission, swallowing hard before forcing yourself to break away from his brilliant blue gaze.

"Thank you," you accept, not knowing where to go from here. "Good to know you don't hate me," you add.

"Yeah, same here," he smiles softly. Another moment passes before you speak again, something unspoken growing between you.

"So, just to be clear, was that you admitting that...you like me?" you ask, hearing how juvenile you sound but not really caring all that much.

"That was me admitting that I care about you."

You take a breath and nod, "Oh, okay. So, you don't like me?"

"I didn't say that," he almost scoffs.

"So you do like me?" you ask again with a furrowed brow.

"Jesus, doll," he laughs lightly, "We're married."

"Not yet," you counter.

Bucky walks toward you, pizza long forgotten by you both as he suddenly gets to his knees before you while you stay seated in the chair, his face right about level to yours as you watch him with stilled breath.

His eyes are blazing a fiery blue as he holds your gaze. You have to blink at the intensity.

"I like you," he breathes quietly, careful not to break the soft air of intimacy as you stay so close to each other, earning a small smile from you in turn.

"I told Kate I had a crush on you during recruitment, that's why she always makes comments about us going on missions together so often," you admit unprompted, the urge to tell him the embarrassing secret you'd tried to keep hidden from the moment you let it slip to Kate just overcoming you.

Bucky smiles boyishly at that. "Steve was convinced from the beginning I had a thing for you, that's why we go out on missions together so often."

You can't fight the half smile that adorns your lips at his words, "Was he right?" you question. 

He nods.

"He was right," he whispers as he leans in closer to you. "Does our future not make that obvious?" he teases.

You don't think as you lean into him, one hand finding the back of his head and raking your fingers through the soft, dark brown strands as you breathe a bit heavier with anticipation, you watch as his eyes close at your touch, leaning ever closer. You’re sure he can hear the uptick of your heart as he meets your gaze once again, before your eyes flit to his lips. 

You shrug, a playful tilt to your lips.

"I can think of some other things that might make it more obvious," you murmur as you let your forehead press against his own, waiting for him to close the distance between your lips now.

His hand comes up to gently hold your face before he slowly brushes his lips against yours. 

It's soft and gentle as you kiss him again, but after a moment, one kiss turning into another and then another, your lips press harder against each other, hotter as it intensifies, your hand gripping his hair ever so slightly as he kisses you back just as hard before finally you force yourself to break away.

You shudder a breath as you part, catching your breath, but neither of you drop your hands.

Bucky's thumb gently strokes your cheek as you gaze into one another's eyes. So much unspoken, and yet so much being shared with the look alone.

The ringing of the tablet breaks you two up, though, as a FaceTime call pops up.

The contact is Natasha and seeing her name has you grabbing for the tablet and accepting the call right away.

"Hey," she greets as the sound of a movie playing in the background mingling with the giggles of children and fake cries for help from Steve can be heard just beyond her smoky voice.

"Hey, what's up? Did something happen?" you ask, hoping you don't sound as uncharacteristically panicked as you feel.

"That's what I was gonna ask you two. There a reason your daughter keeps twirling around shouting 'fucking dick' into the air every ten minutes?" She asks.

Your brows raise in surprise as your mouth parts open on nothing.

Bucky titters at the thought of that precious angel twirling around with a mouth like a sailor - a mouth like her mother. He smirks, answering for you.

"Yeah, that'd be thanks to her mother over here."

"Why am I not surprised," Nat responds.

"Sorry, she was mimicking me this morning and we didn't tell her to stop," you grimace. "Hey, can you put them on really quickly?"

"Yeah, that's actually the real reason I called. They wanted to say goodnight before they go to bed," she says as she walks into the living room.

"Linc, El, got some folks who wanna talk to you over here."

Your eyes light up as their perfect little faces fill the screen as Nat holds her phone for them.

When they register it's you and Bucky on screen, they smile brightly, calling out to you both.

"Hi, munchkins," you smile at the screen, Bucky right beside you.

"You guys getting ready for bed?" he asks.

"We're ready, Daddy! Just have to say goodnight to you and Mommy."

"Yeah we have to say goodnight so - and then we can sleep,"

You chuckle as Lincoln rubs his tired eyes.

"But I miss you Mommy," he pouts at the screen.

"'S okay, Linc," Ellie says as she takes her brother's hand, comforting him easily. You swear you're on the verge of tears as you smile at the sweetness.

"Sweetheart, I miss you, too. We miss both of you very much. But you guys are gonna have so much fun tomorrow! And we'll see you so soon, I promise. You two be good and listen to your Aunt and Uncle, okay? Oh, and Ellie,” her eyes widen as you say her name, looking attentively at your face on screen, “let's keep 'fucking dick' just an at home thing, alright?"

She giggles at your words but nods, "Okay, Mommy."

"Alright, goodnight you two," you say softly, not sure you’re ready to call it a night with them knowing what tomorrow is promised to bring.

"Goodnight, Mommy. I love you," they respond in unison.

"I love you more."

"Daddy's turn!" Linc calls for his father.

"Goodnight, Daddy," he says when Bucky leans further into the frame before you hand him the tablet to hold completely.

"Goodnight, Daddy," Ellie smiles.

"I love you," they say, again in unison. The sound is the cutest thing you've ever heard.

"Goodnight, guys. I love you more," he finishes with a soft, almost sad smile of his own before they run off the couch and chase Steve out of the room with the other kids. Nat offers you both a goodnight and a happy anniversary, parting with a wink before she hangs up.

"Those are ours," you say after a moment, astonishment lacing your tone.

"Yeah," Bucky chuckles. "We made those little punks."

"Ya know, I don't think we did too bad considering it's our first day."

"No, we were great. Naturals. They had absolutely no clue we'd never known them before today."

You laugh at that before the silence grows between you again. It's not something unusual for you guys, but the hot tension mounting in this moment in particular certainly is.

Bucky is still kneeling beside you, his large hand settled on your thick, plush thigh.

You scoot back, your weight pushing the chair. The movement allows his hand to smooth over your skin, sending sparks through you and raising goosebumps under his touch.

You try to pretend that it didn't send sparks alight in your belly as you move back further and stand, Bucky turning his gaze to follow your movements.

The sight of him on his knees before you, looking up at you with those devout blue eyes, it has your stomach fluttering as you take a deep breath.

He stands after a second, towering over you once again, somehow even closer now as you look up at him.

"What now?" you whisper.

"That's up to you, doll," he responds, voice lower than you've heard it before, his warmth radiating off of him and into you.

You see his hand twitch by his side, like he's holding himself back from reaching out and touching you again.

"Well," you swallow, "they said it's our anniversary, right?"

"Mhm,"

You raise your brows, shrugging the tiniest bit as you nervously lick your lips.

"You wanna celebrate?" you ask, your voice a little tight and heady as you flick your gaze back up to the darkening oceans of his eyes.

His lips crash into yours without another word, his speed catching you off guard as you gasp into his mouth. Bucky lifts you up like you weigh absolutely nothing and your legs circle around him as he holds you up, his lips never ceasing as he walks you out of the kitchen.

You only part to catch your breath, your forehead against his as he strides into the bedroom, your heavy breaths intermingling. Your hands are in his hair as your arms are wrapped around his neck.

He sets you down on the bed before backing away, granting you space you didn't ask for. You look at him, clearly not happy with the distance he'd put between you. Before you can say anything, Bucky speaks first.

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" he asks intensely.

You look at him for a moment, hoping he can see the sincerity in your eyes. "If I'm being completely honest, Bucky, I've wanted you from the moment I met you. I wanna do this," you answer him. "I'm sure. Are you?"

Bucky pulls off his shirt as you breathe a sigh of relief, a soft titter escaping you as you watch him. He steps closer to you, taking your face in his hold, kissing you deeply. “I’m more than sure,” he speaks against your lips before pushing you back on the bed. The move has a scene playing in his mind and has him hesitating from going further as shame creeps up on him.

“I-,” he squeezes his eyes shut as he thinks through what he’s about to admit to, “I need to tell you something first.”

“What?” you ask, worry clear in your voice.

“I, well.. Hold on,” he says before getting up and leaving you sitting on the bed confused and concerned. 

Bucky returns with the tablet in hand as you eye him.

He looks like a kid about to confess his wrongdoings, eyes down on the tablet as he approaches you slowly.

“I, uh. I came across this, and.. Uhm,” he clears his throat, “I,” he takes a heavy breath, “I.. watched.. it.” he says stuntedly. “Well, not all of it, but more than I should have..”

You’re confused as he hands the tablet over to you, but take it with a quirked brow.

An image of Bucky shirtless is on the screen and you trepidatiously hit the play button, wondering what the video could possibly be. 

Your eyes go wide as you see yourself on the bed in lingerie, Bucky sporting nothing more than a pair of tight boxers. You look up at Bucky still standing before you as a blush grows on his cheeks. You watch, still wide eyed as it goes on. You’re on your back, Bucky leaning over you, and god help you, there’s a tingling in your core growing as you look on.

“No way,” you say in disbelief as it suddenly connects in your mind, eyes flicking back and forth between him and to the screen. “Is this-? Did we-? And you watched it?” you ask, scandalized as your gaze shoots back up to him. 

He rubs the back of his neck self consciously, avoiding your gaze. “I know,” he says sheepishly - you’ve never seen him like this and it’s honestly a little entertaining, a bit endearing. “I’m-” your moan coming from the speaker cuts him off and grabs your attention as you look back down at the screen, mouth going dry as your core is anything but. 

“Fuck,” you breathe as you watch Bucky on his knees, between your legs. You almost stop breathing before you look away, catching yourself and pausing the video. “Uhm. Well, that’s- this is.. Unexpected. I mean, obviously we- they- have.. sex, but, a sex tape?”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have watched it, especially not as far as I did, and I just-”

“How far did you watch?” you ask, cutting him off.

You watch as he swallows hard before sitting down next to you, taking the tablet and scrolling to about the point he had stopped when he closed the video.

“Twenty five minutes?” you ask with a light laugh, looking at the time stamp, the screen paused on a still of you pulling him down on top of your naked body. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again, clearly ashamed of himself. You can’t help but laugh, loving how remorseful he seems.

“‘S’okay,” you say with a light shake of your head, pulling the tablet from his hand and locking the screen, tossing it on the opposite side of the bed. It’s not until you straddle his lap that he looks at you finally, his hands coming up without thought to hold your waist. His eyes twinkle with something akin to wonder. “I get it, can’t blame you,” you admit, your arms draped over his broad shoulders before slipping them behind his neck. “It’s hot,” you speak sultrily, leaning closer to him, allowing your lips to brush his briefly.

His eyes fall to your lips as he breathes headily, pulling you flush to him as he holds you tighter. “You think?”

“Mhm,” you nod, your chest brushing against his bare one with your every breath before you finally let yourself kiss him once again, your noses brushing against one another. 

His arms still holding you, Bucky turns you both onto the bed, ending up above you as you continue your soft makeout. His hands wander your body, touching and squeezing your softness lightly as you sigh under him, your hands wandering his body in turn. You feel like a teenager, experiencing something you’d only thought about in the far recesses of your mind for the first time, it’s intimate and exciting and you don’t even care to take this any further, your focus only on feeling each other, on being this close.

The ringing of the tablet, though, breaks through the moment. You glance over as Bucky continues kissing you, his lips on your neck as you try to read the screen - but it’s too far and out of your reach.

“Bucky,” you urge him, causing him to finally break away from you, turning to look at who was calling. 

His eyes squint as he sits up, reaching for the tablet and answering the call.

“Steve?” he answers in question. 

“Hey, sorry to interrupt, Buck. Linc’s having a hard time going to sleep, he wanted to talk to you again, I told him I’d give you a call.”

“Yeah, yeah, put him on,” he responds.

There’s a sniffle before Lincoln’s soft voice comes through the speaker, “Daddy?”

“Hey, buddy, it’s me. What’s going on, having trouble sleeping?” he asks, sitting up more attentively as you watch him.

“Miss you,” Lincoln answers solemnly, you can imagine him rubbing at his teary eyes already as you hear him sniffle again, your heart clenching at the image. “I need Wolfie, Daddy. You forgot to bring Wolfie,” you can hear his pout over the line.

“I’m sorry, pal,” Bucky apologizes sincerely, despite neither of you having had any knowledge of “Wolfie” being a necessity. “How ‘bout we bring you Wolfie?” he asks before looking over to you briefly.

“Yeah, can you bring him to me please, Daddy?” he puffs.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll bring him right now, buddy. Don’t worry, we’ll be there soon, I promise.”

“Okay,” he says, voice wobbly. “Love you, Daddy,” he adds breathily on a huff, sounding on the very verge of tears. 

“I love you, too, buddy. We’ll be right there.”

“He’s on his way, champ,” Steve says as he takes it off speaker, bringing the phone back to his ear. “Sorry, guys,” he offers to you both.

“Don’t worry about it, we were just, uh,... hangin’ out,” he says, scrunching his face at his own stupid response as you give him a ‘what the hell’ look, your hand gesturing of its own accord.

“Oh-kay,” Steve says at the odd response, “What is up with you guys today?”

“Uhhh,”

“Wait, don’t tell me.. Are you guys expecting again?” he asks, voice hushed.

“Yeah,” Bucky answers stupidly on an exhale, your mouth dropping while you gawk at him. 

“Really?” 

“No,” Bucky answers quickly again, “I mean, maybe. We don’t- we’re not sure. We don’t know,” he tries to remedy his previous baseless answer. “Look, I have to find Wolfie, so I’ll see ya in a minute.” He doesn’t wait for Steve to respond before he ends the call on his end.

“What the fuck was that?” you say on a titter.

His face is in his hands as he sits on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, “I don’t know.” His response is muffled by his hands as you crawl over to him, pushing on his back to make him stand up.

“Go get the wolf,” you say as you push on him.

As he stands, you get off the bed, too, throwing his shirt at him before he turns to the door. 

“Ya know, you’d think you’d be better at this,” you taunt, earning a glare from him as he heads to the kid’s room down the hall. 

“Can you go start the car?” he huffs as you watch him walk away.

You stifle a laugh through your nose, “Mhm,” you answer before heading down the hall yourself, grabbing the keys on your way out.

As you turn to close the front door, you’re surprised as Bucky’s already behind you, the plush white wolf in hand. 

“You’re so slow,” he teases, taking the keys from your hand while you blink up at him, a smirk on his face as he passes you while you just watch, your turn to huff. 

“Dick,” you accuse as you follow him, his smirk only growing at your insult before he gets to the passenger door, holding it open for you to get in.

[afyrian]

sappy sweets kageyama tobio x gn!reader (fluff) synopsis: you see kageyama again and you end up with more sweets word count: 900 warnings: none

masterlist / pt. 1

    "okay, karasuno volleyball team, i need you in order based on your numbers. numbers one through six, please sit on these stands and then seven stand behind one. the rest of you filter through please," you look through your camera which is centered on the chairs and banner. 

  they slowly make their way onto their seats, your gaze flickering back to kageyama. ever since the faithful day in which you actually spoke to him, you'd been wondering when you'd interact again. of course you see him in class and around the school. although, his eyes are always focused on something. 

  "number seven, could you move to your right some? just so you guys in the back are offset from the ones in the front," you walk up to them, helping them find their spots, moving some over so that the shot lines up perfectly, "yeah, number eight could you scoot over a little more?"

  as you move down the row of players, you lock eyes with kageyama. they're just as beautiful as the first day you saw them, your heart already starting to race as you nod at him, "perfect spot kagey- number nine... you as well number ten. okay, i think that this is it, let me get the photos and then you guys can head out."

  you head back to the camera finally taking a few photos, only some of them smiling, mainly the older classmates. they turn out fairly good for a group photo of a team, especially one with the low budget that you're allotted. part of you wants to pretend like it didn't come out great, just so you can spot kageyama in the camera a few more times. 

  however, that would be cruel, and you couldn't do that to kageyama, or the rest of the team. "okay, thanks for your time. you can purchase the photos for individual use by visiting the photography club and we can send them your way," you bow some, giving them a smile before grabbing your supplies. 

  you fold up your tripod and stuff it into your duffle bag. as you're covering the lens of your camera, you can spot kageyama in the corner of your eye. he peeks over in your direction, holding his school bag's strap with both hands. maybe it's your imagination, your humongous crush still lingering within, but you can't help but wonder if he wants to come say hi. 

  the only thing seemingly stopping him is his loud friends and possibly his dignity. you bite your lip, letting out a soft sigh as you finish packing everything up. the only thing that could heal the little hole in your heart may be a snack or drink at the vending machine. luckily for you, the one that always seems to be full is only twenty feet away. 

  as you stand up to leave, you can tell that kageyama has disappeared, along with most of the team. you purse your lips, now knowing that any chance you could've had to make small talk is now gone. however, it gives you the perfect opportunity to wash down your slight embarrassment with a little treat. 

  you take in a deep breath and step outside, noticing the same beautiful orange and pink sky. the swirling of colors always seems more beautiful in this part of town. with the empty roads and few street lights, it's easier to see the sky in its entirety. the only thing making this the perfect evening would be- kageyama. 

  he stands by the vending machines, staring at the one filled with drinks. you wonder if the fates had aligned for this moment, him looking up as soon as you step off onto the sidewalk, or if it was just the doors to the gym closing. "hi," you give him a small smile, walking over to where he's standing. 

  "hi," kageyama copies you, hands already clenching something that he has bought, "uh, i thought i'd thank you for the team picture by getting you this."

  he holds out a bag of candied iyokan peels, his hands holding them gently. your eyebrows raise, mouth slightly agape as you hope this is some form of love confession, his body language slightly awkward. "but if that's too presumptuous, i can give it to a friend-"

  "oh no! i love it, thank you, it's very kind of you," you give him a warm smile, grabbing the candy from his hand, ignoring the intense sense of deja vu that you're feeling from the week prior, "actually.. as a way to thank you, here's my phone number."

  you pull out a small notepad from your bag, a little pencil already placed within the coils. very quickly, as to not take too long within his presence, you write down your number. tearing out the notepad, you hold it out to him, letting out the breath that you were holding in. 

  "your handwriting is beautiful," kageyama smiles, tilting his head down some, a tinge of pink overtaking his cheeks, "and thank you too, i will message you tonight. actually, would you want to take a walk real quick? i can help you back to the main building."

  "that'd be nice, kageyama, don't want to say thank you again, so instead, i'd be very happy to," you bite your lip, trying to hide the wide smile that would've overtaken if not for your habit.

[ohbo-ohno]

if the 1k game is still open, I’d like to throw in my two cents!

Ghost (or Ghoap) with Forest and Only (allotted amount of time) to escape before (bad thing happens)

I’m sure there’s plenty of ways to go with that!~ please take your time and remember to drink water today!!!!!

~🦋

1k game here - no more please!

i will drink water just for you babe. also i did ghoap x reader & forest & trying to escape, but ended up not including an allotted amount of time, hope that's alright!

1.5k of ghost watching soap and reader run from him during a zombie apolocypse. except the apolocypse is really more of a background thing and i just throw in mentions of zombies. no smut! (cw for a very brief mention of cannibalism, a sprained then broken ankle, kidnapping, and very light puppyplay at the end)

"You fucking idiot, Johnny," you hiss. "You're gonna get us killed!"

"Me?" He snarls, whirling around to glare at you, hackles raised. "You're fuckin' shoutin' like you want the bastard to find us!"

"Shhh! Could you be any louder?!"

"You goddamned feartie, I hope he kills you first!"

"What the fuck did you just call me?!"

Ghost just barely manages to bite back a laugh at your offended tone, the way you're nearly spitting at Johnny, even at nearly a foot shorter than him. It's like watching a kitten try and fight a dog - cute, but you know the dog could crush the kitten if things went a little too far.

But Simon doesn't mind watching you hiss and spit at Johnny, certainly doesn't see a need to step in any time soon.

He hadn't expected to find much more than a few corpses when the motion sensor around his property triggered an alarm in his base. He figured it was probably a few zombies, easy enough to deal with.

But then he spotted the two of you - a big Scotsman and his far smaller girl, bickering playfully and totally unaware of him in the shadows.

Originally he'd planned to kill the two of you. He's got enough food stored to make it through the winter, so he wouldn't have to bother with freezing your bodies for later. It would be almost comically easy to kill you, take a couple shots from far enough away that you'd never see them coming, drag your bodies off his property, and forget all about you.

But then Johnny - who's name he only knows because you use it frequently - had spotted him. And wasn't that interesting? It's been a long time since someone managed to spot Ghost while he was trailing them.

He'd noticed Johnny's injury soon after that. The two of you had taken off running - he's not sure why, but apparently you haven't had the best experience with strangers - and Johnny had limped beside you, his right ankle clearly giving him trouble.

That was near sunrise. Now, there's an hour or two before the sunsets.

Simon would like to have the two of you in his base before night falls. No point in risking losing one of you to a zombie, not when you're already vulnerable.

He's been herding the two of you in the right direction since about noon. The two of you had picked the right direction to run, almost making it fully out of Ghost's territory before he started redirecting you. It was easy to land a few shots in the dirt in front of you, send the pair of you scrambling in another direction.

You're closer to his base than either of you realize. Ghost's muscles twitch at the realization, the thought of having the two of you locked up fueling his adrenaline.

He already knows you'll both put up a good fight. He can't wait to see which one of you gives in first. He thinks it might be Johnny, can already picture the man being good after seeing how Ghost might treat you.

He tunes back into your argument as the land becomes more familiar, unable to resist smirking as he sees the path that Johnny's about to walk.

"I told you we should've been more on the lookout for other people."

"Don't even start! Ye know as well as me that the bastard came out of nowhere, don't act like we woulda seen him anyway."

"Well, now we'll never know."

"Exactly! So why're you still naggin' me about it?"

"Oh, really, I'm nagging? Really, Johnny?"

"Yes! What, you think saying it twice makes it less true?"

"Oh, fuck you, honestly, I don't even know why I bother helping you."

Johnny laughs, loud and very obviously fake. "You're helpin' me? Oh, now you've really lost it, lass. I've been dragging dead weight since this whole thing started! You know, I'm getting awful tired of-"

Johnny's just a few steps away, make that final little stretch as he talks, and Ghost holds his breath, waits....

Bam. Before he can finish his complaint, he's yanked into the air. His bad ankle is wrapped up tight in rope, a trap tugging that leg into the air and leaving his torso resting on the ground.

He grunts loudly, though not as loudly as Ghost had expected with his injury.

"Holy shit!" You nearly shout, rushing to Johnny's side and abandoning your argument. "Fuck, are you alright?"

The Scot makes a half-wheezed sound of affirmation, eyes squeezed shut.

"Fuck, alright, don't move. I'll get you out, alright?"

Before you can figure out how to make that happen, Simon steps out of the treeline. You catch sight of him immediately, eyes going wide as you clearly fight the urge to run and abandon your partner. You just barely manage to stop yourself, shifting into what looks like it's meant to be a defensive possession.

Ghost tilts his head, smirks behind the mask. "Where do you think you're goin'?"

Johnny's face is twisted in pain, leaving you to respond. "We don't mean any harm, alright? Just... just let me get him down, and we'll go."

Simon slings his rifle off his back, holds it casually in his arms. The way your hands twitch, the panic streaking across Johnny's expression... fuck, it gets him hard.

"Why would I let you do that?"

There's a little furrow between your brows, and Johnny starts to really squirm in is bindings.

"We won't tell anyone about you," you try, inching around Johnny's prone form. "Promise. You let us go, you'll never have to see us again."

That, Simon thinks, is the problem.

He hauls his gun up, takes quick aim, and shoots the rope tying Johnny up before either of you can properly panic. You both still scream when the branch falls, clattering to the ground on top of Johnny.

You're quick to help him up, your argument apparently entirely forgotten as you let him lean most of his body weight on your shoulders.

Ghost slings the gun back over his shoulder, pulling a length of rope out of his pocket. "Both of you, on your knees. Hands behind your heads, eyes closed."

"Oy." Johnny tries to move in front of you, but his now mangled ankle has to be kept completely off the ground for him to even stay standing. "You can't... we'll go, like she said. Promise, mate."

"Knees."

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't disappointed neither of you put up even a bit of fight. But he doesn't complain as he watches you fall to the ground first, letting Johnny use you to help himself.

"Good," Simon hums when you both settle, forms stiff but in the correct position. "Either one of you even twitches, I'll break your legs and leave you for the zombies."

You both shudder at that, and Ghost feels his cock throb in his jeans. He adjusts himself, then steps forward with the rope.

He's quick, not giving either of you time to properly react. You both get a matching loop of rough rope tied around your necks, just tight enough that the skin is already rubbed a bit raw, just from the initial tie.

"Don't move," Simon growls when Johnny jerks away, gripping the man's wrists and tugging them in front of him. "You want to die out here? Watch your little girlfriend get eaten alive?"

He flushes, teeth gritted in what's probably a mix of rage and pain. Sweat drips down his face, streaking through the filth. "She's not my girl."

"Johnny," you hiss, shifting restlessly on your knees. "Seriously?"

"What? Yer not."

"Is that really what you want to be focusing on right now?"

"Oh, would ye rather talk about the goddamn collar and leashes the bastard's given us?"

Ghost gives said leash a rough tug for that, finishing off the loops around Johnny's wrist and moving in front of you. "The bastard's right here."

You sit still, eyes still closed and limbs loose as you let him move your arms around. Johnny's the one who starts squirming, scowl deepening. "Really? Couldnae tell."

"Lotta sass from a man wearing a leash." Ghost yanks it again, nearly sending Johnny sprawling to the ground. He just manages to catch himself on his bound hands, and Simon finishes off yours.

He steps back, holding the length of rope stretching from your necks in one hand. He tugs solidly, smirks when you both stand as quickly as you can. "Up, now. Time to go home."

He doesn't spare either of you a glance, turning around and starting the rest of the journey home. He shows a bit of kindness, keep his pace slow since he can hear the way Johnny's breathing grows more ragged, hear his limp against the dead leaves.

Neither of you tug or try to run away, and Ghost can't help but smile at the obedience. He mentally crosses leash training off his to-do list. He had been looking forward to that one, but he's sure there'll be plenty of other interesting experiences with the two of you.

He's never trained two pets at once. He can't wait to see how it goes.

[gentlebeardsbarngrill]

02/01/2024 Daily Recap

TLDR; Thank you for the help!; HoistTheAdsReceipts; HoistThePetitionCampaign; UK News; Basingstroke Comic Con; Cast & Crew Sightings; Samba's birthday; Watch Partys; In Person Meetups; Articles; #OhBloysHeMad; Videos; Misc; Love Notes; DailyDarby/Tonight's Taika

Hey everyone! Thank you for all the kind folks that gave me feedback on the Renewal Repo! I'm still getting stuff back filled but please feel free to check it out now, it's got the current events I'm aware of and I'm keeping it up to date with everything daily that comes across my feeds. There's also a contact form for anything I'm missing or you'd like to add!

OFMD Renewal Repository

== Hoist The Ads Receipts ==

So technically this was yesterday, sorry I put it in my todo folder and then completely forgot to add it! So for those of you asking about receipts for the Hoist the Ads Charity donations. There are more images on those links but I'm running out of image allotment for this post so please visit the tumblr or other socials to read the rest. Instagram Link / Tumblr / Twitter

==Hoist The Petition Campaign!==

The @SaveOFMDCrew is hosting a #HoistThePetition campaign to try and boost Signatures on the Petition. You have a chance to win some OFMD stickers. If you don't have twitter you are welcome to message me and I'll message LC on your behalf or find alternative contacts for you! For those with twitter: LCWebsXOXO

== UK News ==

As always, thanks @lamentus1 for all the information on the UK front! Basingstroke Comic Con is happening on May 10-12 2024 at the Hampshire Court Hotel in Basingstoke, UK

BasingStrokeComic Con Facebook Ticket Links Some cool news on the twitter front, @lamentus1 tweeted the SunTV Magazine editor Steven Corbett and he responded!

== Cast & Crew Sightings ==

It's Samba's birthday!!!! He sent us a lovely photo on IG

Looks like he's feeling the love! He's trending! (and so are oranges haha- thank you @lucyrosebutler for catching the trends!) He's been out here liking everyone's comments so he's definitely seeing everyone's well wishes! Thanks for making him feel loved everyone!

Kristian Nairn gave some more updates! Looks like they're sorted for Wee John Monday! More info tomorrow!

==Reminders for Upcoming Events==

=#OurFlagMeansDeadloch=

Last day of #OurFlagMeansDeadloch tomorrow!

Watch Party Hashtags:

#OurFlagMeansDeadloch

#SaveOFMD

#AdoptOurCrew

=#StewAsACrew=

February 4th is National Soup Day! Share soup pics, jokes, recipes, etc while rewatching Season 1 of OFMD! 

Watch Party Hashtags:

#StewAsACrew

#AdoptOurCrew

#SaveOFMD

== In Person Meet-Ups!==

Are you near Burbank, CA? Tues, Feb 13 there will be a walking processional to celebrate #OFMD! Thank you @aimeekitty for sharing this!

== Articles ==

The big article that's got everyone's attention today was this pile of nonsense from the Vulture about "The Truth Behind Max's Cancellation Spree". If you don't want to give them the satisfaction of having clicks, you can go under the cut on this post to see screenshots of the article.

The Truth Behind Max's Cancellation Spree

This has once again triggered our fun and exciting hashtag: #OhBloysHeMad and a new one #Don'tStreamOnMax.

There are some tips from the #SaveOFMD Crew though about Hashtags and cross-posting

Also something to note....

==Videos==

New episode of Movies with Marty! Our Flag Means Death (2023) S2 Eps 3 & 4 Reaction | FIRST TIME WATCHING

==Ad Campaigns Up and Running!==

Our Street Level Ads are live in New York!

== Love Notes ==

I am very tired tonight lovelies. I had a lot to say but it's been a very long day, so I'm going to call it quits a bit earlier tonight. I think this picture sums up my feelings pretty well. <3 you all, see you tomorrow.

== Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika ==

Tonight's Darby picture is courtesy of @jacemerlyn on twitter. Thank you for this gem! Taika's picture courtesy of his instagram.

[002yb]

Ok ok

A glutton for punishment.

What about jaydick, after Jay comes back and after everything, bridges are built, relationships mended, and... the Gotham Gazette reports about the coming back of the lost second son, after a cover story about getting lost in Europe and amnesia.... and it's very public all in all, and this is the Kardashians Waynes!

...and Dick and Jason fall for each other.

And while Bruce has trouble with the concept, and he does his damndest best to try and wrap his head around this,he is kinda Victorian after all, the press is Volatile (tm). And when the paparazzi get a glimpse...!

Cue in the hard life of the rich and famous!

Oh~ but what if all this starts because Dick is caught with some mysterious stranger by a random Gotham citizen. Nondescript as Dick and Jason are, lowkey as the places they go to are - the masses are 👀✨💦 when it comes to Dickie Grayson-Wayne, so pictures inevitably surface online. Just excited inquiries of 'Dickie back in Gotham?? Who's he with?'

And then more pictures surface with other people seeing them out and about and it becomes a witch hunt.

Bruce has always been good about tamping down formal media outlets when it comes to Dick though. Bruce has never been shy about causing a stir to get attention off his boy either. There's only so much he can do against the general public though. That besides, he sees blurry pictures of the man Dick is with and it doesn't matter that Jason wears a hood - Bruce would recognize his babygirl anywhere.

Which leads to crisis for Bruce because he can't understand it. Hell, he doesn't have the time to begin mulling it over to determine how he feels; everything in him screams at him that it's wrong but those are his boys - his sons. But again, no time to process because somehow Jason's identity comes out and all focus goes to damage control.

Bruce thought he would have more time. He shouldn't have underestimated the enthusiasm of today's youth. In other circumstances, Bruce would be proud of these young detectives in the making, but this time? For fuck's sake. ):

Anyway, damage control. Where they have some time as the family 'processes and copes in light of this development - the return of a lost son; please be respectful of their privacy at this time,' yadda yadda.

The cover story: European love affair. Dick goes abroad, meets a local. Love at first sight. They stay in touch. Jason goes by an entirely different name; he has a different identity. Amnesia convenience after experiencing forgotten horrors when he was lost and 'died' all those years ago. To their surprise, Talia has already laid a trail if anyone looks into it. All their means will make this go away, it's just...

Something something Dick and Jason having to give an interview because it's such a scandal and Dick gets the brunt of a lot of nasty accusations involving grooming and Jason has none of it. You know who groomed him? Gotham. Because news outlets chose to talk about garbage gossip instead of things that really matter. Like the kids working the streets and turning tricks, paying favors to those in the judicial system and those that run everything in the shadows. The abuses of Gotham's elite and how a payout shuts up anyone that can do anything about it while the victims suffer. Fuck them. Spinning the one kindness the world gave him into a cruelty - making him leave it; fuck them.

And Dick is just sat there. Not a care in the world as he watches Jason, all heart eyes and smitten smiles as Jason goes on a rant that extends longer than their allotted time.

But yeah they do 'break up.' Publicly, at least. And it's clear as day that it's out of obligation more than any real desire and people are confused. Some insist it's for the best, others contemplate the circumstances, and more still stir up drama that never quite sticks. In the end it's a forgotten thing though. Moved past as soon as the next scandal comes around.

Or better yet 👀: this is the jumping off point of Keeping Up With the Waynes. If I remember right the og started over a sex tape? For the Wayne's it opens on a joke about the scandal and is it weird he fucked his brother? Maybe. How was Dick to know the boy he thought he buried would become this (cue hot toddy slap and Jason shoving Dick off the couch they're sat on).

[dropsofmoonlightzine]

November Update!

Here is an update for everyone!

It’s an exciting time for the Drops of Moonlight Zine!!

Despite production delays, the Contributor Shop is now finally officially open! We expect to keep the shop open until 11:59PM PST on December 14th, 2022 to allow contributors time to reserve their physical zine copy in exchange for a discounted donation. Contributors will receive an email from us with a password and discount code allowing them to access the contributor shop. If you are a contributor, please check your email for details about how to reserve your Zine cop(ies) and reach out to us ASAP if for whatever reason you did not receive an email.

Production:

A few more samples arrived! We have now received samples or bulk orders for our sticker sheets, pins, postcards, and origami paper. Unfortunately, one of the sample sticker sheets came out faulty and one of the pins in the wrong color, so we're getting that fixed now while we wait for other still-missing samples to come in.

However, those that have arrived the way we want them look great! We are very excited about them, and we will take product pictures ASAP and share those on our social media soon!

Regarding production delays, please keep in mind that there is an ongoing paper crisis in Europe and it fully explains some of the delay our vendors have. Since the beginning of our production phase, several vendors have pulled out – some because they went bankrupt, others because they have trouble serving the high demand brought on by the crisis – and others have raised their prices immensely due to the shortage. This affected both budgeting and production, quite obviously. Budgeting because, without definitive pricing we ran the risk of miscalculating individual costs (especially for contributors, who we are not charging any surplus for their donation and instead only the bare minimum of production cost we can afford). Production, because well, obviously, but also because the vendors we are still able to work with have long waiting lines for production and we – with our one-time-only limited edition and small order (from their viewpoint) – simply aren't a high priority or ‘important’ customer. This all amounts to what's happening: stuff has been going slow, but we're seeing the light at the end of the tunnel growing steadily nearer. For our most important vendor (the physical zine itself) we have finally been allotted a production window, and are thus confident to now open the contributor shop. However, we are still waiting to receive a production slot for some smaller items.

Of course, with timing out of our hands due to reliance on vendor production schedules, we have been hesitant to make definitive statements of a delivery date when basically none of our vendors can give those to us. For consistency, we will be distributing all Zine bundles at the same time, so our digital supporters will not receive their copies until the physical bundles are shipped out. So we ask you please to be patient – we're impatient to release the Zine too, believe us.

However, please know that the project itself is NOT at risk. We are working hard to get everything finalized and ready to produce/ship out. Some of our items have already been produced and are waiting for you. It's just the question of WHEN we can go to print with the rest of the items.

Translations:

During the height of our translation phase, after extended submissions closed and everything trickled in, 3 of our original 5 English-to-Japanese translators pulled out due to valid life stuff (remember, everyone here is a volunteer) and they were not able to continue with the project.

With the review of more than 70 translated works falling on only 2.5 sets of shoulders, while we initially stayed on (delayed, please remember that we extended deadlines for you all) schedule because our translators overworked themselves like crazy, we are now lagging a bit behind because that pace simply wasn’t sustainable. Thankfully, one more person has volunteered to help, and so the translation team now has more support. We are working as fast as we can to get the translated text from all fics, essays, and doujin reviewed and ready to host on Ao3.

Communication and Layout:

We're still to this day missing a few documents and info from several people (summaries, titles, bios, etc). This is of course totally understandable – there are HUNDREDS of contributors and so this was bound to naturally happen – but after a LONG period of trying to get these from everyone and reviewing all emails and messages we have received to ensure we didn’t miss anything, we have now started to fill in the gaps ourselves where we can. However, the months of following up as well as hunting for missing information and finally writing up what we can on our own has taken a little time and delayed the lay outing of where all this info all needs to be.

However, we are THIS close to wrapping everything up in a tight bow with the project now finally close to the finish line, and are excited to share this update with you! Thank you all so much for your support and for your understanding and patience during this extended production phase. We know the delays are frustrating, and we are grateful for all of you who respect that we are balancing the completion of a massive multinational project with the lives and mental health of our volunteers. Though it may not always feel like it, please know that our moderators and translation team are working very hard to finish this special project and bring your Zine bundle to you as quickly as we can.

Please keep an eye out for those sample photos to be shared on our social media, and we hope to bring you another update soon!

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

Drops of Moonlight Zineより大切なお知らせです。

度重なる制作の遅れがありましたが、このたび、寄稿者向けショップが正式にオープンしました! このショップは2022年12月15日午後4時59分（日本時間）まで開設され、寄稿者の皆様が割引価格でZINEを予約できるようにする予定です。寄稿者の皆様には、ショップにアクセスするためのパスワードと割引コードを記載したメールをお送りします。各位、メールをご確認いただき、万一届かなかった場合は、速やかにご連絡ください。

制作状況について：

ストレッチゴールについては、サンプルの一部がすでに手配済みです。ステッカー、ピンズ、ポストカード、折り紙などの大量発注がかかりました。なお、ステッカーとピンズの一部に不具合があり、他のグッズの手配と並行して修正にあたっているところです。

ただ、到着したサンプルの多くは大変素晴らしい仕上がりになっています！可能な限り早く、完成品の画像を皆様にも共有する予定です。

また生産の遅れについてはご迷惑をおかけしております。ヨーロッパにおける紙不足には依然終わりが見えず、今回のプロジェクトはそのことに多大な影響を受けることとなりました。生産フローが進み始めて以降、提携していた数社が撤退しました。廃業した業者や、原材料の用意がままならなくなった業者、大幅なコスト増に見舞われた業者など、影響は広範囲に及びました。このことがプロジェクトの予算編成と生産計画を大きく揺るがすこととなりました。予算については、価格が決定できない限り、試算が困難であることは言うまでもありません（特に寄稿者向け販売分については、最低限の制作コストのみを製品代としています）。加えて、今回のZINEは一回限りの少部数の生産であることや、制作スパンが長期にわたることなどから、ベンダーからの優遇措置を受けづらかったのも事実です。このように、順調にとは言い難い状況ではありましたが、今ようやくトンネルの終わりの光が見えてきました。最も重要なZINE本体部分を担うベンダーにおいて生産枠が確保できたため、寄稿者向けショップのオープンをお約束できる運びとなりました。しかし、いくつかの付帯品等については、まだ生産枠が確保できていない状態です。

ZINEの納期はあくまでベンダー側の生産スケジュールに依存しており、各社とも明確な期日を示してくれるわけではありません。そこで、公平で一貫性のある供給方式をとるべく、すべてのZINEバンドルを同時に配布する予定です。そのため電子版を購入された方も、印刷版が発送されるまで、コンテンツの入手はできません。どうか今しばらくお待ちくださいますようお願いいたします。私たちもZINEのリリースを心待ちにしています。

しかしながら、プロジェクトそのものが危機に瀕しているわけではないことをご承知おきください。あらゆる事項の最終決定が進んでおり、生産・発送の準備にかかっています。一部のアイテムはすでに製造を終え、お手元に届けられるのを待つばかりです。その他の品物も順次、製造加工に入ります。

翻訳状況について：

翻訳作業がスタートし、作品投稿もすべて締め切られたのち、当初5名いた日本語翻訳メンバーのうち3名が生活上の理由で辞退せざるを得ませんでした。これについては、全員がボランティアである点を忘れてはなりません。

その結果、70点以上の作品をわずかな人員で翻訳校正することとなりました。当初はメンバーの多大な尽力により（作品投稿期限の延長があったにもかかわらず）順調な進捗でしたが、そのペースの維持が難しくなり、日数がかかっています。大変ありがたいことに、ボランティアでもう1名の方が加入してくださり、多くの貴重な時間を費やして支援していただけるようになりました。現在、すべての小説、エッセイ、漫画の翻訳テキストをレビューし、Ao3（二次創作投稿サイト）でホストできるように、できる限り早急に作業を進めています。

コミュニケーションと紙面制作について：

依然、いくつかの作品において、掲載に必要な情報（要約、タイトル、経歴など）が不足しています。ただ、このことは、何百という作家の皆様の作品を集約する以上、一定数はやむを得ないことです。主催チームでは、すべての寄稿者からこれらの情報提供をいただくのにかかる期間を考慮した上で、これまでに受領したすべてのメールとメッセージを見直し、情報の拾い漏れがないことを確認しました。可能な範囲で不足部分を補うよう努めましたが、前述の通り長期にわたるフォローアップやメッセージの再読み込みを行なったため期間を要し、紙面レイアウトの進捗に影響が生じています。

しかしながら、このプロジェクトもいよいよ大詰めを迎え、今回のアナウンスを皆様にお伝えできることを嬉しく思っています！長期にわたる発刊延期にもかかわらずご理解とご協力をくださった、皆様のサポートに心から御礼を申し上げます。遅延によるご不満やご迷惑は重々承知しております。私たちは、大規模な多国籍プロジェクトの完遂と、その背景を支えるボランティアメンバーのプライベートや精神的健康の維持とのバランスを図っており、そのことを尊重してくださる皆様に感謝しています。様々なご意見があることは理解していますが、この特別なプロジェクトを完成させ、可能な限り早くZINEをお届けできるよう、主催ならびに翻訳チームが懸命に善処していることをお含みおきいただけますと幸いです。

近日中に、サンプル画像を公開予定です。どうぞお楽しみに！

[zelda7999]

jkhdjkf please imagine with me Eclipse working on a project that normally needs two people but he's got all four arms working on it. management says that for safety purposes, he needs someone at least attending. well, turns out that if Agent Neon helps, Eclipse gets to cuddle AND keep focused on work~ - @clxckwork-sun-n-moon

Okay okay, so I read this when I woke up (like 4 hours ago skjdhafkjlsdfh) and I just HAD to write this. It stole my attention so fast lksd;jflksajdf I also cannot PROPERLY EXPRESS HOW MUCH THIS MADE ME GIGGLE AND SQUEE WITH JOY

It may not be exactly what you were picturing, but I took the idea and legit RAN with it. It's mine now >:)

Title: Better with Company | Words: 1,789 | Approx. read time 8 mins

Find it under the cut!

Better with Company

Typically your work didn’t involve overtime, Eclipse was very good at making sure all projects and tasks got finished within their allotted time. You’re sure that him having four arms helped with that task, anything having to do with paperwork was faster than you could ever hope to keep up with. The same to be said with assembling prototypes. He was deadly efficient with those hands, and much to your dismay… He caught you staring at said hands often. However, with how efficient you knew him to be, hearing that management was calling you in to assist him was odd.

 If Eclipse needed help he would have called you, right? Or perhaps even asked while you were still at work. Currently you were slipping your work clothes back on and rushing out the door to get back there. It was a 15 minute walk, so you would need to hurry if you wanted to make it. Though another detail of Managements call that stuck with you, is that they assured you nothing would start until you had arrived… That didn’t make you in any less of a rush however. If something was happening, you wanted to be there ASAP.

 So when you arrive and find Eclipse more fidgety than usual, the worry that has been in the back of your mind begins to grow.

 “Eclipse! Management called me in, did we forget something?”

 His head turns to you too fast, unnaturally fast. If you didn’t know any better, you would assume it was just because he’s an animatronic, but you do know better. He never moved that fast unless you were in danger. He had some sort of knack for knowing when you were about to get hurt, and most times than not, stopped you from doing whatever it was that would harm you. Now however, he seemed nervous. That might explain why all four hands had a fidget in them, and why he was pacing while doing so.

 “No, no! Nothing like that. I am working on a project, and… Management reminded me that despite being able to preform the work as a one man team, I am required to have someone accompanying me even if they are not there to assist with said project.”

 He pauses, a small static filled sound falls from his voice box. For a moment you worry he’s about to crash with how still he’s grown, but then he starts moving again with no issues.

 “However, when they mentioned they would call someone in… I didn’t know it would be you!”

 “Well, I live close. It makes sense to call me in, only a 15 minute walk after all.”

 “And yet you made it here in 13!”

 You really did rush here, didn’t you? Snickers threaten their way out as you put a hand over your mouth to subdue them.

 “I was in a rush! Getting a call from management after what I thought was a successful work day is VERY anxiety inducing. That’s besides the point however! What’s the project?”

 Eclipse wastes no time in pocketing three of four fidgets as he leads you to the project in question. With just a look at it, one would assume it was just a pile of scrap and bolts. However, the blueprints to the side of it give you a small inkling of what it may be.

 “Management contacted me near the end of day and requested I re-evaluate and upgrade the 4500-XX equipment. They haven’t been known to be the most… Efficient invention of mine, but they served their purpose for quite a time.”

 “4500-XX?”

 The question is simple, just the name and a questioning tone. It serves you well because Eclipse brings the blueprints closer and gives you a proper look at them.

 “When I had first landed this position I had been working off of requests from other agents. Things they would need in their day-to-day work. One of which, was the 4500-XX. A suitcase for containing top secret information, while also protecting it. Only the owner of the case could open it safely. If someone other than it’s registered owner were to open it, the files would be destroyed for protection. Now, field agents are complaining it disposes of them in a way that disrupts their work. I thought the explosion was an efficient way of doing so, however I can see how others may… Disagree.”

 You listen carefully while looking over the documents. The mechanisms within it were wonderful and made an immense amount of sense. While the case could dispose of top secret information when in the wrong hands, it also had several security features that allowed other agents to resume the work. If perchance an agent were to lose the case, or not be able to get back to the case… As long as someone within the agency or someone registered to said case got to it, it wouldn’t explode.

 “And so you’re… Redesigning it?”

 “Yes! I can improve this significantly. It would be an easy task, I could in all honesty do it myself… Management however deems it necessary that I have someone with me during the process.”

 “Do you… Want my help? I mean, I’m okay with staying back and just watching! But if you want, I can actually assist.”

 “it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve assisted on a project like this! However… I am hesitant to completely agree to your assistance-”

 You’re about to be very mock-offended when he puts two hands up to calm you with a smile and continue talking.

 “But! I know you had just finished your work day, as did I, but you may be more tired than you let on! I can continue to work with ease, but I would not want to put that stress on you if you’re too tired.”

 Actually, that was really sweet. Heat dusts your cheeks as your heart melts into a puddle at his care. You were tired, but you weren’t going to mention it. You had agreed to come in after all. You could have said no, but in truth… You wanted to see Eclipse. Even if it was during work, and not in the setting you wanted, it was still time spent with him.

 “That’s… Actually really sweet. I am tired, but if you need me I am more than ready to help.”

 “Well, then I have the perfect way for you to assist! Come here.”

 You nod and walk over to him, with little to no warning his lower set of arms wraps themselves around you waist and holds you against him. You look up to him, and find he’s already working on what’s in front of him. Grabbing tools, pieces of the project, and even readjusting the blueprints so they were on better display for the both of you. That’s when he rolls the tool trolley closer and grabs your attention.

 “I will work on the inner mechanisms, but I would appreciate if you could put the case itself back together! Perhaps a way to make it more personalized? Every agent is different after all.”

 You smile up at him and nod, accepting this new task presented. The two of you work in this close proximity, happy to go quiet with focus… But even more happy to be pressed against each other while doing so. A couple hours go by, Eclipse’s speed and accuracy hasn’t staggered or even changed. It was a sight to behold and with exhaustion creeping up slowly but surely, your tired mind put down your tools in trade for watching him work. Before you know it your eyes are closing and you’re leaning against him as sleep catches you.

 You don’t know how long you’re out, but when you wake up you find yourself still held close to Eclipse. The project itself finished in front of you both. It looked like a normal suit case, for all indented purposes… It kind of was just a suitcase. The new notes added to the old blueprint give you the idea it was even more than it’s previous design. There were so many things Eclipse could have done while you were out.

 “Have a nice nap?”

 “I’ll probably have a sore neck later.”

 “Not to worry, you were supported the whole time! You should expect a perfectly not sore neck!”

 “My hero!”

 A yawn escapes you before the giggles do.

 “We’re finished here, so if you’re still tired y-”

 The sentence dies from his voice box and the ever comforting arms around your waist go limp. Concern overtakes you before self preservation does, Eclipse falls backwards and you fall with him. Thankfully you’re on top of him and not the other way around. How long had he been working today? He always came to work with a full charge, you remembered that detail from previous conversations… His battery must have gotten low enough for his systems to flag it as a dangerous level of low. He’ll be back in a minute. Back in a minute. You repeat this in your head to keep any thoughts from spiraling.

 At least his project was finished. Though what good you turned out to be. Doing a little work and then passing out on him… Well, not on him. Against him. A flicker of light visualizes itself in his eyes, then they’re on completely.

 “Eclipse!”

 While you may be happy to see him back on, his expression shows the opposite emotion. He looks panicked, and with how fast he’s now picking you up and checking you over explains itself.

 “I’m okay! I’m not hurt, you didn’t fall on me. I fell on you actually.”

 A static filled sigh fills the silence after your information.

 “Well, let us both get home.”

 “A-Actually…! Uhm… Would you… Like someone to walk home with? Y’know… For company and all…”

 Eclipse’s smile widens a smidge as his eyes fall into a well known puppy-like expression. All four of his hands close around yours, holding them in a comforting cage.

 “You could stay the night at my apartment actually, if you want to that is. I have recently acquired a bed.“

 Well, that was unfair. Now your face is bright red and you don’t have the hands to hide how red you are! But you were not going to say no to this offer.

 “Absolutely, yes- I- I mean… If that’s alright of course! I don’t want to intrude on your night anymore, and I’m sure you’ve seen enough of me today. So if you don’t want me to I can-”

 Eclipse shushes you and chuckles softly.

 “I invited you after all! I would love for you to stay the night.”

 “Then… Let’s get walking!”

[pahichannel]

AnimeExpo Recap Day 1-2!

I like the idea of using Tumblr for more blogging style Pahi rants so... that's what I'm gonna do! Welcome to Pahi's adventures at AnimeExpo! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*✲ﾟ*｡ Boy is LineCon not a joke. Get in a line to get in to get in a line to get into the area you want to go to get into a line to see a paticular artist... it's absolutely wild out here LOL. I really didn't stop walking (or standing) for 11 hours the first day and day 2 wasn't much better. But I GOT A LOT OF COOL THINGS FOR MY TROUBLES!!!

Hitsukuya was my Day 1 first stop because she had limited post cards and I love her OC Hi-chan so I really didn't want to miss it! They were numbered and I was customer #10! Hitsu goes to a ton of cons so I already had most of her stuff but the Honkai stuff was quite new! Next picture is Xeph whom I have a lot of prints from last AX but the Honkai ones are new so I picked up that as well! Then there's Minsgraph who had a holo Silverwolf which looked SO GOOD. I wouldn't be surprised if I accidently double-bought the Gura and already have it... aaaaa I have too many prints. I could stand to more properly organize what I have but at a certain point they're all either on my wall or in a portfolio and you start forgetting who drew what and just kill me. Maybe I should start asking for business cards to slide in with each poster I keep safe. Last pictured is Gyool! They had THE ONLY TOKI I COULD FIND IN THE WHOLE VENUE. I love Toki. Someone please draw more Toki. Also always nice to still see someone drawing Sagiri!

Dealers Hall was next and Inti Creates just reprinted a Lola tapestry I've been looking for forever...??? No seriously, I've been camping Yahoo Auctions, Mandarake and Surugaya for probably a year now for this exact tapestry and it either just doesn't exist or costs 8000 yen plus. And there it was for 25$? Excuse me? Was tempting to buy 2. Probably the happiest surprise of the con for me. As much as I didn't care for the first Gunvolt game the designs are so heckin' cute and Pahicore. I'll probably give the Luminous Avenger games a try at some point...

I have no clue what Fatal Twelve is, I literally pointed at it and said "sell me on this" to the people at Sekai Project and they did a good enough job. I may never make the time to play a lot of visual novels I own but I just love to own them physically and have a soft spot for collecting them up. I'm sure it's just boomer brain where even only 10 years ago visual novels were extremely niche in the west and what was available licensed was incredibly sparse. I'm very happy I can finally buy stuff like Beat Angel Escalayer, something that feels a bit surreal to be a new release given my first encounter with the series was on some backwoods anime hentai site probably 15+ years ago.

Probably my happiest accomplishment was getting alternate color variants of Reimu and Marisa fumos from the AmiAmi booth! It was first come, first serve with a small allotment for them each day so I made the decision to make getting them my mission day 2. At first I just wanted Reimu as she's my favorite 2hu but... she needs a friend right? So I caved lol. Thanks @myrral for joining me to double our chances getting through the crowd for them! I actually had a scare where I thought Marisa was stolen or fell out of a bag but luckily I set it down at a artist friends booth and they kept it safe for me. Glad to have them reunited!

While the entirety of day 1 involved going through all the shops, day 2 I spent a little bit of time in panels! ...getting to them was absolutely awful! I wanted to get to the Lazulight panel but it was absolutely packed and there was no way I was making it with how little time I got there before it started. There was literally a line to get up an escalator so you can get in line for a security checkpoint so you can get in the actual line for the panel, which was capped. I stuck around to get to the next event, a Q&A panel with CDawg and Ironmouse... though that had it's own mishaps. I somehow got ushered into another panel room which was some sort of Studio Bones press announcement panel? I almost gave up and stayed there but I wondered my way out and by some fluke I found where I was supposed to enter the same time security said they can let a few more people inside. They didn't allow anyone to line up once they thought it was full so I got to sneak right in, super lucky!

Day 1 and 2 were so hectic that it ended feeling like I really did everything I wanted to do. I went hard on trying to line up for the things I cared most about and min-max'd my browsing time amongst the artists and exhibitors booths. I'm ready for a much more chill day 3 and 4... so chill that this is my first time I've decided to take a breather and sit in my hotel room the whole con! I'll have a follow up blog for the last days and lots of photos of the general sights and not just what I bought lol. But until then it's time for me to weather the crowds once again though, wish me luck! (￣^￣ )ゞ

[luckylulu82]

I do think he looks thinner and pale in the face in that picture with Mike Flanagan. Maybe he lost some weight and it shows in the face first. I hope he is not too stressed out.

My response to this will be a 2 parte, the 1st part is your concern of him being too stressed out because this is not the 1st time I've had someone ask is he too stress or he is working too much. Actors have the decision to either take on more work or to give themselves an allotted time for break between work, their agencies will always run something by them but they have the final decision whether they want to take the job or not, so if pedro was feeling stressed out I am sure he would not take more jobs like he's doing right now so I don't think you need to be concerned about that. In regards to how he looks please do note he went to the gym before this meet up with mike, no one ever looks amazing after the gym I know I don't. As well he is still recovering from the flu, i noted that his face was seemingly a little sunken in the photo with Craig and neil but he is actually looking better.

[engraveindiagiftsblog]

A Bucket List of Awesome Birthday Activities

Birthdays are an occasion to celebrate getting another year older and having a whole day to do anything one wants, even though some people may dread them. You should get up and celebrate Birthday Return Gift Ideas for 50 rs by doing something enjoyable instead of lounging around the house the entire day.

Do you require assistance taking action? You can still find many interesting places and things to do, even if you're rushing to make plans for your special day at the last minute.

These enjoyable birthday celebration activities can be enjoyed alone or with friends. Some ideas for making your birthday extra special are provided in this article.

·       Try your hand at escaping

If you want to see how well you and your friends can work together in the face of difficulty and challenge your one-year-old brain, visit an escape room. The objective is to solve puzzles and riddles within the allotted time using the information and clues in the room. It is more challenging than it sounds in real life.

·       Bar hop until morning

While celebrating a birthday by going out to bars is common, staying out late into the morning is a unique way to honour the day. You have two options: make a list of the bars you want to visit and physically cross them off the map as you go, or snap a picture at each one and organize them chronologically.

·       Enjoy the Finery of a Boutique Hotel

Booking a luxurious stay at a boutique hotel will allow you to celebrate your birthday in style over multiple days. Since boutique hotels are typically smaller, you won't have to worry about being in an overcrowded environment on your special day. Instead, they provide a luxurious escape from the routine at an affordable price.

Many spas and restaurants are available at boutique hotels. If you're staying in a boutique hotel while travelling, you'll have more freedom to explore the local area.

·       Purchase a Unique Item for Yourself

You put the most thought into a gift you buy for yourself because you know you will enjoy it. You can give yourself a luxurious treat on your birthday. Investing some time in birthday shopping is not only a great way to commemorate the day, but it can also be a reminder of your achievements thus far and what lies ahead.

·       Go travelling

Finding the best path could take time and effort, or you could pack up, go on a vacation, and follow the wind wherever it leads. Either way, the road trip will be legendary. Bring plenty of activities to keep you occupied in the car, even if you only go away for a few days.

Conclusion

Here are some birthday bucket list ideas for what to do on your special day. Never forget that another year has passed and that you can reflect on your accomplishments and set goals for the coming year as you celebrate another birthday. For details about Best Engraved Gifts India please visit our website: engraveindiagifts.com

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[marabarl-and-marlbara]

hi mara, i hope you dont mind this long wall of text but i wanted you to know you have helped me understand myself somehow, your art and rants about your faith and what you believe really connected with me and everything makes so much more sense now - thank you so much mara i couldnt thank you enough, i finally feel heard and recognized its so amazing ;; ive asked lots of meaningless questions in your inbox and every time i get a reply i feel cared about - thank you; (i dont know if this is all weird to say::i just wanted to tell you q____q sorry if it is) i hope everything is going okay for you nowadays. - another thing that might be weird but i feel like your posts are more positive now than they were when i first found your profiles; im happy to see that. youre a very kind person mara, thank you for existing

hello, anonymous, i don:t mind -- but i don:t think you should give me as much credibility as you have. i:m not as amazing as you make me seem, & the understanding you received from me could betray you one day, you know?

here:s a ARCHANGEL:NEMESIS picture w/ some taffy i bought recently (i made myself visit a friend & i had a really nice time); more blogging below.

i:ve been more positive lately because, after canceling my psychiatrist appointment, i decided i needed to try to fundamentally change who i am + put in more effort to my goals (this sounds more grander than it really is). mostly just: helping my mom out proactively & cleaning the whole house, studying something every day 4 an allotted time, keeping anime watching on a schedule, & making myself draw regularly <- this is all super minor stuff, but it:s been really helpful to making days seem less terrifying.

i:ve also been more willing to confront who i am in terms of aspects i:ve always been really ashamed about; there was this comic i read called arigatou that helped me a lot with owning aspects of myself -- instead of lying to myself about them. stemming off of that: i confronted/ended every relationship that secretly made me unhappy but i was too people-pleasing to end. telling that anonymous that i thought they were a cockroach was a part of that: i need to work on being honest, & being clear when i am upset/uncomfortable, instead of nurturing these rotting relationships like they:ll one day bear a good fruit.

it made me much happier, i think -- i:m still pretty miserable, but i:m more happy with myself. anyways, take care, anonymous, & keep on existing, too, ok?

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Cult Girl (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 6

Hannibal sits in on a regular conversation between y/n and her family. Y/n insists it could have gone worse.

⚠️Bigass trigger warning⚠️: Verbal abuse, emotional manipulation, blood, mention of alcohol abuse and suicide

Anna lived her life believing that she was the main character, constantly denying personhood to everyone around her. She was the romantic hero, and everyone else existed to forward her plot.

This metaphor was imperfect, however, because in all the books you'd read, the main character must overcome some kind of challenge. Nobody ever said no to Anna. Nobody ever criticized Anna. Nobody but you. So you were pigeonholed into the role of antagonist for it. You had to give her credit; growing up on the receiving end of her and Theresa's torture was a compelling villain origin story.

It was obvious that she only wanted you at her wedding to present her with an obstacle. Heaven forbid her story progress without some semblance of petty drama out of her control. She'd cornered you into a painful catch-22; you wanted vengeance, but you couldn't give her the satisfaction of having her special day ruined. What was your play? Ruin it just a little? Walk away?

These thoughts passed through your mind as you sat through the boring ceremony. You wanted to lean over and whisper everything to Hannibal, but he seemed lost in his own thoughts. The vows seemed to drag on forever. Liam's English accent grated on your ears and you wished that he would just shut the hell up.

The ceremony concluded and you hoped to skip out on the reception with a purse full of mini cannolis, but fate had other plans. In a last-minute reach for some kind of scene, the blushing bride waved you over to the head table.

"[F/N]!" Anna shouted, with a big smile across her face. "Come on!"

You fought the urge to feel endeared by this. She looked too happy to be harmful. Your guard was all the way up as you and Hannibal approached the table.

Hannibal pulled a seat out for you while you studied Anna's expression. She fixed her doe eyes on Hannibal. You knew from experience that Anna had the same powerlust as grandma and Theresa. She was just better at keeping a lid on it.

"[F/N], you remember Liam?" Anna said, her voice brimming with excitement.

"Yeah." You nodded, scooting your chair up. "Nice to see you again, Liam."

"Good to see you again, too [F/N]."

"Liam is from Birmingham." She bragged, her smile somehow growing wider.

"Alabama?" You piped up before taking a drink from your water glass.

Every time you were forced to interact with Liam, she reminded you that the man with the strong and unmistakable English accent, was in fact from England. And every time, you slipped in the Alabama comment. It was never not funny.

"Liam, Anna," you said. "This is my fiance, Dr. Hannibal Lecter."

"Many congratulations to you two." Hannibal offered.

"Dr. Lecter, thank you so much for coming." Anna returned. "And thank you for taking such good care of our precious [F/N]. I hope she's not giving you too much trouble. She was quite a handful growing up, but we made it work."

"Don't flatter yourself, you're only four years older than me." You hide your passive-aggressive jab beneath a smile. "You can't take credit for a job you didn't do."

Grandma always thought Anna's protective, borderline maternal behavior towards you was adorable. Of course, it disgusted you. You were little more than an accessory to her. A baby doll she could simulate motherhood with. But, in fairness to her, that was all you were to the adult in the house too. Monkey see, monkey do.

"So have you two set a date yet?" Grandma interrupted your thoughts, just trying to keep the tension down.

"Goodness, no." Hannibal answered. "Ours is a long-term engagement."

"Yeah." You added. "Not until I finish school."

"Well, it's not my fault you aren't expected to graduate on time." Grandma said into her wine.

You tightened your grip on your water glass. "Well, changing your major halfway through will do that."

"I'm just saying," Grandma continued. Whenever she was 'just saying' anything, you knew she was raring to stir things up. "If you had just stayed the engineering track, you wouldn't have to keep Hannibal waiting."

"Well!" Anna cut in, offended that the attention was off her for more than a minute. "Liam and I waited until after college."

"Yes, Anna," Grandma said dismissively, before turning back to you. "Y'know, Dr. Lecter here could probably tell you that psychologically speaking, women are more likely to drop out of college and become strippers when they change their majors?"

Now it was Hannibal's turn to down his entire glass of wine. "Ms. [L/N], where did you get that information?"

"Oh, it was an article I found on Facebook." Grandma answered. "I'll have [F/N] send you a link."

"Ms. [L/N]," Hannibal cleared his throat. "Are you familiar with the concept of misinformation?"

"Of course." She looked offended at the implication that she could possibly not know something.

"See, social media websites like Facebook are inundated with misinformation campaigns." Hannibal explained. "Your claim is not rooted in any psychological fact."

"Yeah, also," You cut in. You scanned the area for escape routes if your attempt to change the subject went awry. "There's a wonderful documentary about how Facebook misinformation campaigns targeted rural counties in England leading up to the Brexit vote."

"Oh, we have a funny story about Brexit." Anna interrupted, taking the bait, hook line and sinker.

Before she could recount the same boring anecdote about being at some regional chain restaurant when the vote was cast, Theresa and her husband joined the table.

"Sorry we're late," Theresa sat down. "Damage control is a twenty-four hour job. What were we talking about?"

"Misinformation." Liam said.

"Perfect timing." You muttered.

"Finally, all three of my girls are together again." Grandma threw her head back and rejoiced. "When was the last time we all got together? Just us four girls, huh?"

"Remember the day before prom, we all went out go get manicures?" Anna reminisced. "And we took pictures of us all dressed up?"

"Oh I remember." You scanned the area for any alcohol to ingest.

"Oh, this is so funny." Grandma laughed hysterically. "Dr. Lecter, did you hear this story? [F/N] went to the prom with a boy who had all along been using her to get close to Theresa! They got together that night! Dated for two whole years after that."

"I've heard an iteration of it." He said, looking over his shoulder. He flagged down a waiter who was holding a bottle of champagne. "Leave the bottle, please."

"Don't drink too much, [F/N]." Anna scolded. "Save some alcohol for the rest of us."

You made sure to maintain eye contact with her as you filled your flute to capacity. "Grandma's paying, isn't she?"

"Anna, baby," Grandma said, rubbing her temples. "It's fine. Let [F/N] drink herself silly. It's a party, right?"

"Wow," Theresa sneered. You knew exactly what she was going to say next. "Like mother, like daughter."

Everyone at the table had enough decorum to recognize that Theresa went too far. You crushed the champagne flute in your grip, letting shards of glass dig into your skin. You glared at Theresa, blood oozing from your palm and dripping onto the white tablecloth.

Wordlessly, Hannibal removed the offending glass from your hand and swaddled the affected area in a napkin. He put pressure on the cut, letting the blood absorb into the cloth.

"Is this the famed '[L/N] woman telepathy'?" Liam whispered to Anna.

"No, [F/N] is just mad because her mother was a drunk who killed herself." Anna thought she was being inconspicuous.

"This has been fun." You stand up from the table. "Really. Great way to spend a Saturday."

"[F/N], sit down..." Grandma ordered, sounding exhausted. "You know Theresa didn't mean that."

"No." You said, each syllable out of her mouth pushing you a step closer to your breaking point. "Y'know what? No. I don't have to put up with this anymore. Anna, congratulations. I hope you and Liam have many long years together."

You turned around to exit as quietly as you could, Hannibal at your side. Your grandmother, who somehow hadn't hit her daily allotted dose of confrontation, wouldn't have it.

"Dr. Lecter, tell [F/N] she's being unreasonable." Grandma pleaded.

Hannibal raised his eyebrows in genuine surprise. In his long-spanning career, he'd never once met a person as tone-deaf as Beatrice [L/N]. He kept his quiet composure as he slowly approached the table.

"Beatrice," he said, beckoning her to lean in. He whispered something into her ear that left her stunned and quaking.

You could hear your grandmother's hysterical sobs growing softer as Hannibal hurried you out.

"Keep pressure on that cut, love." He instructed, talking over the increasingly loud shouts of agony from the head table. "You'll need a few stitches."

Once you were far enough from the venue, you had to ask. "What on earth did you say to her?"

"Nothing that you don't already know." He answered, facing forward.

[swcetnight]

It’s Definitely You || kth (m.) 1

synopsis:

Working as a barista in NYC has its perks, but when your ultimate dream of being on the Broadway stage tends to come crumbling down, the only thing that raises your spirits is the comfort of a complete stranger… who seems to have known you for far longer than you thought.

masterlist here

→ pairing: taehyung x barista!reader (also musical theatre performer cause I had to)

→ genre: fluff, angst, future smut | strangers(ish) to lovers… i won’t give the truth away... gonna have to read and find out for yourself ;))

-> warnings: self doubt, adorable plant names... there's really not many warnings for this chapter!

→ word count: 7,973

authors note:

alrighty everyone... here we go! (i’m so nervous) this is the first chapter of this series (which it took me 50 years to figure out whether I wanted this to be a series or a two shot... lets just say that it's gonna be a long one, so I think that a series is the best way to go)! this story is really near and dear to my heart, so 1. I really hope you enjoy it and 2. I hope all of you know how hard it was to write this into words... my goodness. now, make sure you look for clues throughout this series... there's a secret in here that won't be revealed for a while ;)) but if any of you have ideas, please be sure to send an ask while we wait to find out together! anyways, I hope you enjoy !!

authors thanks:

a HUGE thank you to @hantaev and @monvante for beta-reading and being so so supportive of me and this little (but not so little) story... y'all truly have no idea how helpful you've been and how thankful I am to be friends with both of you! forreal, y'all are the greatest and I'm sending you all my love!!

also, if you are enjoying this story, please don’t hesitate to send me an ask (on or off anon) and let me know your thoughts, feelings, theories, etc!! i would love to hear from all of you 🤍

If time-travel existed, you would be on the first time machine and head back to 2 years ago. A time when you had a free schedule and were able to go out on Friday nights. A time when you felt confident in yourself and were raring to pursue theatre. A time when you didn't have this job (cause apparently, theatre is impossible to get into) that forces you awake at 4 in the morning for the opening shift.

You can't say you don't love your Barista job because you do. Still, when your alarm wakes you from the beautiful dream of performing on the big stage, you have to use everything within yourself to crawl out of your sheet cocoon… and that is unacceptable.

What's even more unacceptable is the fact that your co-worker, Jimin, hasn't arrived at the Academia Cafe yet. You have about 30 minutes to prepare for the morning peak; brew coffees, set up the bakery items, clear the boards "coffee of the day," etc. The problem is, it takes up all of the 30 allotted minutes— and you can't start prepping early because Jimin has the keys to the cafe.

You’ve worked at the Academia Cafe for about a year now, taking a break from your endless theatre audition schedule— since that was getting you absolutely nowhere. No matter how badly you want it, nothing seems to work. No matter how many times you practice, it never seems to be good enough. Let’s just say, you took this job at the cafe because you were over the repetitive let downs.

… But here you are, with a “Jimin being late” let down.

[To: Jimin ☕️] hey, you almost here? times ticking, keys!

You stuff your phone into your winter coat pocket, the brown material catching snowflakes as they fall gently from the cloudy sky. You love this weather; it's always been your favorite. When you were little, you used to pretend to be a dragon; running all over your front yard and releasing heavy breaths that chilled in the air and spread like smoke. You don't enjoy the cold, but the entire feel of winter has you cozying up in a blanket with hot cocoa and a good book… nothing could beat that.

A buzz in your pocket catches your attention.

[From: Jimin ☕️] Hey! Look up.

Your eyes immediately lift to see Jimin smiling a few feet away, shuffling through the snow as he drags the keys out of his pocket. He's sporting a heavy blue coat that reaches down to his knees — making his short stature appear even smaller — topped with a matching blue beanie. Despite his tardiness today, you’ve always been fond of Jimin. He's like a ray of sunshine, beaming through the skyscrapers of the city and making everyone around him happy just by flashing a single smile. Honestly, you wish you could sneak some of that happiness from him and lock it somewhere safe... so you can save it for a time when you need it most.

"Your timing is impeccable." He laughs, gently placing the keys into the front door lock. "You texted me right as I was rounding the corner."

"I'm telling you, Jimin; we're always on the same wavelength."  Smirking, you make your way through the doors of the cafe, greeted by the warmth that surrounds you like your sheet cocoon did this morning, but accompanied by the smell of fresh coffee. "Except for the fact that you, my friend, are late, so now we only have twenty-eight minutes until opening."

Old, rustic book pages litter the cafe's dark walls, executing the dark academia theme flawlessly. You have to give the interior designers a hand, what with the black stools and high dark wood counters etched with different story pages. You wonder if anyone took the time to read the stories that covered the cafe; maybe the stories moved them in a personal way. Maybe there was a reason why they read them, a part of the butterfly effect of their life.

With a quick survey of the main room, you shuffle into the back to put your belongings away. "You would think it would be less busy on the streets because of the snow," Jimin calls, already working on the first batch of light roast coffee. "But unfortunately for me, that was not the case, and I nearly lost my life multiple times on the way here because of how slick it is."

A laugh emits from your lips, echoing in the backroom as you throw your apron over your head.

You begin with date labeling all of the pastry items, placing them accordingly onto the pastry cart; croissants, muffins, scones, etc. Then, you move onto organizing syrups and setting toppings along the bar where drinks are made. Bar is your personal favorite position-- since you're able to make the drinks… Plus, you're so busy that your shift goes by way faster. The sooner you're done, the sooner you get to go home and sleep.

“All set?” Jimin questions when you finish setting the steaming pitchers next to the espresso machine, tossing the rag he used to wipe down tables into the sanitizer bin. You give him a nod, taking a quick once over of the bar. “Alright,” he claps, “let's do this.”

This morning runs like every Friday morning, busy and fast. The sounds of coffee glasses clinking and the calling of customer names at the hand-off station echoes through the air.

Ahhhh, the scenery in coffee shops; the quiet hush over the room as soft jazz plays over the speakers. It’s soothing, all encompassing, and extremely helpful for motivation… You used to go to a local cafe for homework when you were still in school.

You take a breath, relaxing against the back counter as you overhear a conversation a group of regulars are having. It’s the usual small talk: the weather, families, sharing pictures of recent events. Coming up with questions of the day for customers becomes easier after knowing their stories, so you subconsciously listen in often.

Because of this, you almost don't notice the man waiting at the register, wholly delved into the neighboring conversation— only looking over when you hear your name called.

"Y/n?"

You turn your head, catching eyes with the stranger behind the counter who holds his credit card ready. The first thing you notice is that he's young, probably around your age, wearing a brown turtleneck and white slacks. His eyes are dark, standing above his perfectly sculpted nose and lips. His hair is dark as well, forehead drowning within the wavy bangs that fall over his eyebrows as he takes you in. To be completely honest, he's probably the most handsome man you've had the pleasure of seeing… is that weird? You don’t know him… maybe that is weird.

The second thing you notice is that he looks completely anxious, hands grasping the edge of the counter like there's a thousand-foot drop below him. Why is he looking straight at you while doing that? Maybe you should call Jimin to take ove-

“Is it really you?” He questions, taking you aback.

"I-" You clear your throat, walking forward to meet him at the register, "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

With an intake of breath, he releases the counter as he studies you. Was he… crying? You swear his eyes were not this bloodshot three seconds ago.

"You-" He pauses, taking another sharp breath and running a hand through his hair. If you thought he couldn't get more attractive, you were wrong. "Do you know me?"

Attractive? Yes. Psycho?...possibly.

You shake your head slightly, “I… I’m sorry. I don't-"

Wait… is he a regular? You swear you haven't seen him come into the cafe before. Shoot.. What if he is? The number one thing your boss has made perfectly clear: remember the regulars, so they come back and feel at home; recognized. Customer connection was the most important thing at the Academia Cafe… He's probably a regular.

“I’m so sorry, there're so many people that come to visit us and sometimes I forget the regulars!” You apologize. “That’s my fault… remind me of your name again?”

He's staring at you. Full-on staring, jaw slacked. Shifting uncomfortably in your keds, you eye beside you to see Jimin working away at a macchiato. You consider changing places, nearly walking over to him before the customer speaks again.

"It's- It's Taehyung."

You force a smile, nodding while he continues to stare at you. He seems a bit more hesitant, his eyes looking in different directions but ultimately falling back onto your own. Even if he tried, he couldn't hide the rosy color that spreads onto his cheeks. What was this guy's problem?

"Taehyung! Awesome, well, what can I get for you today?" You chirp, attempting to brighten up your increasing discomfort. He might have mistook you for someone else, you decide, jumping back into your customer service personality: kind and quick to the point.

Taehyung doesn't move, training his eyes on you. You've never had a man's undivided attention before, since boyfriends were never an option. When you were a teenager, you stayed home most of the time in your hometown, and the boys there were all just in it to take your pants off. You avoided them and never really caught their attention, so you can't help the uncomfortable blush that grows on your cheeks. It’s short lived though, your nerves dissolving as soon as you notice a single tear fall onto the front of his shirt.

Oh. Okay, he’s definitely crying.

"Sir..." You begin, leaning in closer to avoid drawing attention. "Is everything alright?"

"I…" The shake in his voice is evident as he puts his credit card back into his wallet, still refusing to break eye contact. “Excuse me." Without another word, he turns on his heel and rushes towards the exit, clocking a customer in the shoulder in his rush. He apologizes quickly, bowing to them before glancing behind to make eye contact with you once more.

You wish you could read minds, wondering what the hell is going through his brain… but you notice the tiniest gleam of a hopeful smile that hides on his lips.

And then he’s gone.

“I swear it was the strangest thing, Jimin.” You speak nervously, tugging at the strings of your apron and lifting it over your head. It had been busy all day, despite a quick thirty minute break when everyone had left and the cafe was suddenly a deserted island. You appreciated the busyness, it made your shift go by faster. Right now, all you wanted to do was go home, eat a fat bowl of icecream and distract yourself from the events of today with a movie. Thank God your shift was over.

“Maybe he thought you were someone else?” Jimin insists, taking a bite into the extra Blueberry Muffin you’d accidentally heated when you were distracted by the events that occurred earlier.

“Yeah? Well, I must be the spitting image because he was totally freaked out.”

“You never know, y/n. Or, maybe he just used that as an excuse to talk to you.” You could hear the smirk in his voice, throwing your rolled up apron at him harshly before you grab your belongings.

“Ha, ha, you’re hilarious. This guy looked like he had seen his ex… He was crying. I don’t think he was into me.”

“Maybe his eyes were watering from the cold wind?” He offers.

“Enough to cry actual tears?” You scoffed, “C’mon Jimin.”

He shrugs defensively, picking up his things so the two of you can head out a few minutes earlier than usual. Whenever the baristas have a chance to leave early, they take it. “If he comes back, then ask him: hey, dude, what’s your deal?”Jimin works his way through the cafe, throwing an excess chair upside down onto the table with the rest of them.

You hold your hand above your heart, which is still beating at a faster pace due to this discussion. Can hearts even beat this fast? This can’t be healthy… “Oh wow, you have such a way with words. That definitely won’t make him feel uncomfortable!”

Yes. Sarcasm coping mechanism.

“Y/n.” Jimin meets you at the door and puts his hands on your shoulders, making extra sure he has your attention. “Go home. Don’t think too much into it… He was probably high or something and mistook you for his ex that dumped him and now he’s moping through the city and getting into all sorts of trouble and he’ll forget that he even came here tomorrow morning. Okay?”

You nod slowly, exiting the cafe with Jimin on your tail. "Don't worry, y/n." Jimin adds, "He probably won't even come back." He locks the door and gives you one last thumbs up before heading in the opposite direction, calling out at the last second. “See you tomorrow!”

The forced smile on your face appears again (looks like this was a regular occurrence today), waving him goodbye.

Yeah… tomorrow.

Jimin was right. The handsome crying stranger was probably never coming back.

It has been a few weeks since you met him for the first time. Now, it feels like a distant memory. He hadn’t shown up to the cafe the day after the encounter, or the day after that, or the day after that, and eventually you’d come to the conclusion that he was probably never going to show his face again out of pure embarrassment. You can’t say you blame him. You’d be embarrassed too if you stared at and cried over a random stranger.

Still, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment... You'd kind of hoped you could figure out what his problem was, maybe ease his mind a little if you really did look like a past lover. You would make sure he knew that it wasn't you. What if he was avoiding the cafe because he literally thought you were someone else? Great… now you just feel bad.

"Y/n? Are you listening?" Jimin beckons over the phone.

"Huh? What?" You bounce back to reality, the soft comforter of your bed lying beneath you as you stare out the window. Thanks to your wonderful apartment search, you have a beautiful view of the city. Jimin had helped you find a place when you first moved here. The two of you had met when you visited to check out the first apartment options; he even took you out for a drink afterward to celebrate the first days' completion. Jimin had immediately clicked with you, as he does with everyone-- he was the kind of person to make friends insanely quickly. He must've been super popular in high school... unlike you.

"Y/n Y/l/n. I am giving you a chance to meet more people, and you're not even listening to me!" He cries, a light smack coming from the other end (probably from him slamming his hand on the table).

"Okay, okay-- I'm sorry. I'm listening now; what's up?"

With a deep sigh, he speaks again. "Party. My house. Tonight. It's not gonna be wild, don't worry... it's just a get-together with some of my friends, and you can have a few drinks if you would like to."

Gnawing at your bottom lip, you look over towards the clock on your nightstand. 5:00. "I don't know..." You begin, the bed shifting as you raise into a seated position. "I have to work tomorrow morn-"

"Already got your shift covered." He deadpans.

"What??"

"I already got your shift covered, so you have no excuse."

This sly guy.

"Who covered it?" You question, setting the audio to speaker-phone as you rummage through old text messages you haven't gone through (to prep for your "thank you for covering my shift" text message).

“Jin.” Noted.

“So…” Jimin continues, “are you coming?”

You can't even remember the last time you met new people, let alone gone to a party. Parties weren't necessarily your thing, especially with your busy schedule of workdays and auditions-- you just never had the time. You should be excited, right?

Well, you aren't.

"Jimin, I don't know… I'm not really a huge fan of parties." You mumble over the phone, picking at the lone string that popped out of its stitch on your comforter.

"Y/n, it's a small get-together, and it's not gonna be that kind of party. Believe me; it'll be really chill. It's just me, you, a few other coworkers, and some friends from my journalism class."

You chew at your bottom lip, looking over at your closet to see a single green cocktail dress that you hadn't worn in years. The memory of the dress was a good one… you had just finished up curtain call for The Addams Family and wore that dress to the after-party. It's a short sleeve, layered green dress that flows just over your knees, the same color sash tying the waist in a floppy bow. You blush at the memory of winning best dressed.

A pause, “Okay.” You conclude. “I’ll go.”

Jimin was honest about how chill it would be; soft music plays in the background as the group sits around the table playing cards. A basketball game is playing on the TV, desperate for attention as a player scores a 3-pointer, but no one is watching. Shuffling of cards is the only sound heard in the room as the game continues.

The atmosphere is calm… quiet…

“BULLSHIT.”

The immediate crumble of everyone’s mood causes the loud “HELL YEAH” that makes you jump in your seat.

"And that is how it's done, Ladies and Gentlemen." Jungkook (your fellow coworker) claps, his smile brighter than the sunset that seeps through the curtains on the opposite side of the room.

"And that's on cheating!" Jimin picks up the cards in the center of the table, gathering them clumsily back into a pile.

"It's called having skill," Jungkook replies, holding his hands up as he smirks at his opponents.

"No, it's called luck." Yoongi finalizes as he puts his hand of cards down on the table with a roll of his eyes. You haven’t met Yoongi before until tonight. He’s one of Jimin's friends from Journalism Class.

When you arrived, you decided to sit out of this round and learn to play before joining the game-- knowing you; you would've been crushed within the first minutes of playing. Card games weren’t exactly a skill of yours— board games on the other hand were where it’s at! That, and charades. For the sake of the party, a card game didn’t sound too bad this time around— so you poke at Jimin to give you the hand as he serves cards for everyone else.

“Wait, wait, wait—“ Jimin pauses, his hand disappearing beneath the table to grab his phone. “Hello?”

“I’m not Irish, so does luck really count?” Jungkook questions in a hushed whisper, nudging Yoongi in the side.

“Oh hey...yeah... it’s apartment 205.” Jimin continues.

“You’re so funny, Jk. Maybe you’ll actually become successful if you choose stand-up comedy rather than becoming a musician.” Yoongi replies nonchalantly, his cat-like eyes staring at the abandoned pile of cards before he seems to come to the decision to shuffle them himself. He gives you a small smile when you hold your hand out to signal that you’re joining in this round.

“Mhm, you can just walk on in! Doors unlocked… okay.. alright, see ya in a minute.” When Jimin's phone is down, Yoongi passes a hand of cards to him.

“Think you can beat me, Y/n?” Jungkook asks,”Since apparently these four can’t?” He motions to Yoongi and Jimin, glancing at the other two players of the game: Hoseok (Jimins other classmate) and his girlfriend, Faith.

“I think I can.” You say, smirking at the determined expression on Jungkooks face. Even if you weren’t very fond of card games, there was one thing you were even less fond of: losing.

“Mmm, might want to rethink that, but okay.” Jungkook replies. The two of you are death staring when the sound of the front door creaking open catches the attention of everyone else at the table. Jimin shoots out of his chair.

“Taehyung!”

You freeze.

"You-" He pauses, taking another sharp breath and running a hand through his hair. If you thought he couldn't get more attractive, you were wrong. "Do you know me?"

Attractive? Yes. Psycho?... possibly.

“I’m so sorry, there're so many people that come to visit us and sometimes I forget the regulars!” You apologize. “That’s my fault… remind me of your name again?”

"It's- It's-."

“Taehyung, you just missed me creaming everyone in bullshit.” Jungkook boasts. Your eyes are glued to the side of Jungkook's head, not daring to make eye contact with the source of your nerves the past few weeks.

“Oh did I?” The familiar, deep voice utters.

Okay.. you can’t help but look…

Holy—it’s actually him.

Immediate regret sinks into your soul when you see him. God, he’s even handsomer than you remember. A white woolen sweater hangs over a pair of his black pants, matched with white sneakers and accenting the head of dark wavy hair you’d been thinking about since you last saw him.

“Yep!” Jungkook continues. “And now Y/n’s about to get shitfaced too.”

The moment his eyes swiftly glance your way is the moment you crumble and turn your head back to Jungkook. You had hoped to make a sly remark, something along the lines of “in your dreams,” but you’re caught breathless from the tension in the room. The tension only the two of you are aware of. He must be tense too, right?

“I wouldn’t underestimate her.” You hear out of Taehyung's mouth, stealing a look at his face once more. He’s smirking at Jungkook, hanging his coat on the hook beside yours, oblivious of the way you’re basically dissecting his every move.

“Have you met Y/n?” Jimin questions, provoking Taehyung's eyes to fall back onto yours. This time, you don’t look away.

He doesn’t answer right away, making you more nervous than you should be— the silence deafening as you make to explain, “We-“

“No.” He states plainly, cutting you off. An innocent smile plays on his lips as he looks at Jimin and places his messenger bag beside the door.

No? Uhhh, was he not the guy who pretended to know who you were and cried in front of you without even explaining why? Nope, it’s definitely him.

“I’m Taehyung.” He calls in your direction, offering you a boxy smile and a small nod, “Don’t let Jungkook fool you. A girl pinched him when we were in grade school. He barely lasted five seconds before running away screaming.” Taehyung moved to the table, sitting beside the man he just brutally embarrassed.

“That girl was terrifying. She was way taller than all the other sixth graders. It was an unfair situation.” Jungkook protested, sinking in his chair as he shuffled the cards he held in his hand.

You couldn’t help but stare dumbly at Taehyung. Was he embarrassed of his outburst at the cafe that he just hopes you forgot about him? You guess you didn’t exactly meet each other, other than a few words exchanged before he disappeared out the door. He probably doesn’t want his friends to know about what happened. Or did he not recognize you and completely forgot about the whole ordeal?

Okay, it’s fine… totally fine.

“I’ll have to keep that in mind,” you laugh, “no more coming in late, Jk. Or I’ll have to pinch you.”

Jungkook merely rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his beer. You see the crinkle in Taehyung's eyes as he laughs, the boxy smile taking root on his face again… a smile you’ve begun to enjoy the look of.

Hey. Snap out of it. This guy is so confusing. That’s a red card.

You straighten up in your seat, catching Jimin's attention when you move towards the kitchen, motioning with your hand to signal that you’re getting another drink. You have a feeling you’re gonna need some more alcohol to get through the evening.

Jimins place is clean, every knick knack placed neatly where it belongs; accompanied by the smell of potted plants that he keeps by his windows. Little name tags are attached to the plant stems: Flo, Sprout, Bob. He names his plants. Sweet.

He, like you, has a great view of the city too, a mid-size window perched above his breakfast nook where a small potted plant (quotabley named “bean”) grows. The city is bustling below as you reach for a beer, shrugging off the fact that you hate beer, but at least the taste will distract you from Tae-

“Hey.” You hear a soft voice call from the kitchen archway. When you turn you nearly drop the bottle out of your hand. Taehyung gives you a soft smile.

“Hey! Uh.. did you want a beer, or are you a wine guy?” You question, cringing at how much higher your voice sounds at his close proximity.

“I— Sorry, neither.” He starts, shoving his hands into his pockets as he makes his way around the island. “I uh- I just wanted to talk to you about something.”

You nod slightly, “Yeah of course… what’s up?”

“Um,” he’s nervous, you notice. “I just wanted to apologize about the whole thing at the cafe a few weeks ago.. I was— not in the right state of mind.” He meets your eyes hesitantly, “you just look like someone I know from a long time ago and it kind of.. took me by surprise, I guess.”

Jimin was right. You offer him a smile, shaking your head in disbelief, “You know what, I truly thought that was the reason… It’s totally fine. I’m not who you think I am, by the way.”

A flicker of something crosses his features at your comment, something you can’t quite pick up, but he changes it quickly to a smirk. “Obviously.” He laughs, “I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.. I’m not weird, I swear.”

“Mmm, that’s what they all say.” You tease.

He laughs, a soft sound that you want to hear over and over again. “You’ve got me there.” He takes a pause, placing his hands on the island countertop. “Let’s start over? If that’s okay? I didn’t want to mention it when I came in because I wanted us to have a fresh start.”

You push down the questioning thought of who this woman he mistook you for was, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. “That’s totally okay.. clean slate?”

“Clean slate.” He finalizes.

“Straightforward,” You add, “I like it.”

He gives you a warm smile, the same edge in the way he looks at you dances in his eyes before he breaks it off, sliding the bottle of beer out of your own hand. “Actually, I think I will have a beer. You don’t seem like a beer drinker, anyway.” He turns quickly, smirking at you before striding out of the room. “Thanks, Y/n!”

Protestations die on your lips as he disappears from the room, your beer along with him. How rude. You can’t help the smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you turn back to the cupboard, skipping the beer and pouring yourself a second glass of wine. You weren’t a beer drinker, after all.

Although you weren’t one for parties, you couldn’t help but admit the fact that you were having a good time. No, a great time. All of you are seated in Jimins living room; a plate of chips sits on the coffee table, which was the hot spot of the night (considering there’s hardly any remaining). Others in the group still have a glass of alcohol in their hands, the tipsiness evident by the slurring of their words. You had stopped yourself after half of your second glass, playing it safe since you still have to walk home after the party. You weren’t much of a drinker anyway-- your family history being the root of this decision.

It isn’t the games that made the night this enjoyable, or the food, or the movie that is currently playing over Jimin's television (which, by the way, is Moulin Rouge, because half of the room enjoys musicals, and the other half enjoys regular movies. So, you decided to settle on a movie musical). None of that matters, except the fact that you’ve never felt this carefree in a long time.

For one night, you can put aside your cafe job, auditions, and never-ending to-do lists and just have fun. Real fun. Even in the audition rooms, it has never been fun for you. It’s been nerve-wracking to a fault and always ends with a “thank you for taking the time, but we’ve decided not to accept you this time around,” or a callback, which ultimately concludes with the same grueling fate.

But this is different.

This is a group of people who genuinely want to spend time with you and get to know you… with no “not this time’s” or open-ended questions.

Especially with Taehyung. You’re surprised at how quickly the two of you seemed to hit it off, despite the awkward introduction. Now, it feels like he’s known you for years… in the best way. You’re comfortable talking to him, chatting together during the movie about the plot points or songs you find specifically endearing. You had initially planned to sit next to Jimin… but ended up next to Taehyung on the couch.

It just happened.

He enjoys musicals as well, you learn. Maybe not as much as you do, but at least he doesn’t despise them. He’s one of Jimin’s friends from their shared art class. He loves the color brown. His favorite food is watermelon. He does illustrations for Jimins journalism projects (which, in your opinion, are exceptional from the photos he showed you during the movie while the others were engulfed in the film). He wishes to pursue traveling journalism, where he draws what he sees rather than taking pictures. His whole aura is warm… like a heated blanket that envelopes you whole when you feel him shift beside you on the sofa. A small reminder that he’s still there.

Okay, you’re liking his presence way too much.

He finds romance movies corny but a guilty pleasure nonetheless. This, the reason why he agreed to watch Moulin Rouge despite the cheesiness in the beginning. In the end, it was anything but cheesy.

"Well, that was stupid." Jungkook scoffs, slamming the remote onto the neighboring loveseats' armrest. The once loud room filled with music is now quiet from the after-effects of the movie.

“I told you it was sad!” Jimin exclaims. The two of you had seen this movie before in theatres… and this was nothing compared to how the ending hit the first time. “Y/N was nearly choking. She was crying so hard when we saw it.”

An immediate blush rises onto your cheeks as you shake your head in defiance, trying to hide the tears that had been stinging your eyes for the last thirty minutes. “Who wouldn’t cry at that??”

“Taehyung probably didn’t. He never cries.” Hoseok deadpans. Ha. You can’t help but remember the tear that ran down his face in the cafe… He never cries?

With a quick look over your shoulder, you find that Taehyung is no longer seated on the couch. When did he get up? You attempt to shrug off your curiosity, pivoting back towards the chip table where only sad little crumbs remain. You were worrying way too much over a man you quite literally just met tonight… even if it felt like you’ve known him for much longer.

Taehyung eventually reappeared, stating that he had to use the bathroom— you ignored the fact that it took him a solid 30 minutes to get back to the party. It wasn’t your place to ask any questions, especially since he lifted a smile onto his face the second he reentered the room. See, y/n… nothing to worry about.

It wasn’t long before you insisted you head home, knowing that you’d curse yourself in the morning if you stayed out past the sunrise. If you did, you’d sleep through tomorrow, and that would be awful. You’ve done this a few times… and every time, you felt like you had wasted an entire year of your life.

You move to grab your purse and jacket, which are hanging comfortably on the hook beside the front door. With a small smile, you bid everyone goodnight— smiling as they resume a card game around the table at one o’clock in the morning. It’s nice to know that the group of you hit it off… now; you can look forward to plenty of get-togethers in the future.

Your mind is bustling with all kinds of ideas: picnics in central park, late-night broadway shows, hangouts at the caf-

“Y/n!” The soft calling of Taehyung's voice causes you to halt near the exit, turning on your heel to see him jogging towards you. He had haphazardly thrown his jacket over him since it’s still being tugged onto his body as he runs. His hair becomes even more chaotic in his haste… Why do you want to run your hands through it?

“Hey!” You squeak, interrupting your thoughts before they trudged down a guilty road. “What are you doing? Weren’t you going to play another round?”

He gives you a smirk, catching his breath as he holds out your house keys. “You forgot these! You were really moving fast… sick of us already?”

“Wh— oh my god, thank you!” With a quick swipe of your hand, you’re stuffing your keys into your pocket with a grateful smile. “Also, hardly.”

You admire the way his eyes light up at your confession. “Well.. since you don’t want to leave us so quickly.. how about I walk you home?” He seems almost hesitant asking, but you can’t help but applaud him for actually taking the initiative to inquire.

You shake your head, pulling the strap of your purse farther up your shoulder. “You don’t have t-“

“I want to!” He cuts you off quickly, catching you by surprise as he moves past you to open the door. He glances back, taking in your reluctant expression, “It’s not safe this time of night Y/n… You shouldn’t be alone.“

You know he didn't mean anything by that statement… But the idea of someone genuinely caring and not wanting you to be alone makes your heart swell. Jimin cares about your safety of course, but this feels… Different.

This is the reason why you allow him to walk you home.

The snow crunches beneath your feet, like a symphony that beckons you home. You’ve been feeling exhaustion seeping into your bones for the last ten minutes, but Taehyung's occasional brush of his arm as he walks beside you keeps you wide awake. He doesn’t think to apologize for accidentally touching you, but you blame it on the time of night. Delusion.

“How long have you lived in New York?” You question, wrapping your coat tighter around you to kick out the nipping air.

“About a year now,” He responds, shuffling his feet, “though it feels like way longer. You?”

“Three years.”

Taehyung turns his head towards you, eyes wide. “Wow, way to one up me.” With a teasing smile he continues, “You must know this city like the back of your hand.”

The truth is… you don’t. You came here for the sole purpose of making it on Broadway... you never really took the time to focus on anything else. Part of you wishes you had learned more, craved more, wanted more with your life—then you wouldn’t be so miserable when the one thing you do want doesn’t work out. “Yeah… kind of.”

If he hears the somber tone of your voice, he ignores it, turning against the wind as he walks backwards down the sidewalk. “It’s overrated in my opinion.”

You raise your head at this, “Why is that?”

“Everyone here has dreams… and those dreams get crushed more often than not.” He shrugs, “No one cares if you want to succeed, only if you already have.”

You stare at him for a moment, awestruck by the weight of his words. “But,” he adds, turning back towards the wind, “the ones who never give up and continue to chase that dream can become successful. Despite all of the no’s they might face, they always hold on till they hear a yes. That sounds like true success to me.”

Turning your head, you stare at the side of his face— admiring the way his hair tosses back a bit against the harsh winter winds. His words hit you way deeper than he probably realized, sinking into your chest with an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. You’ve been contemplating recently on whether or not to give up on your dream… that maybe it just wasn’t going to work out for you. You have been trying for so long, and have repeatedly been let down. There was no way Taehyung could have known, which is why his words hit you as hard as they did. Despite the hardships, you’ve been here for three years and you’ve never given up or stopped trying to chase your dream.

That was an achievement, right?

“To be honest… I've heard a lot of no’s in my three years of being here.” You speak softly, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind your ear. “Sometimes it feels like there will never be a yes… but here I am. At least I'm still working— at a coffee shop, not on the stage.”

“It’s admirable that you keep going.” Taehyung glances at you over his shoulder. “It makes you different from a lot of people who have left the city when they faced failure. It’s something to be proud of. Plus, coffee shop or big stage, you’re in New York City and pursuing your gift. It’s special.”

When your eyes meet, you smile at him, feeling a sense of victory the longer you hold his gaze.

“Don’t give up, Y/n. No matter what.” He speaks genuinely, leaning towards you to nudge you gently on your shoulder. You can’t help but laugh at his playfulness, giving him a nudge in return before your eyes downcast to your winter boots. The snow on the ground is fresh, powdery and sticking to the toes of your shoes. “Plus,” He adds, sucking in the chilly air, “you've got what others don’t have…”

This time when you meet his eye he has a serious expression, making sure he has your full attention as you round the corner towards your apartment building. His gaze is genuine, captivating… and a part of you hopes that the close proximity of your apartment wouldn’t cut this moment short. Finally, he speaks.

“You have passion.”

Taehyung's words weigh on you for the rest of your night. It started off as something simple, looking up audition songs for an upcoming off-broadway show your agent was telling you about. Then, you went to learning it. After that, putting on makeup. And finally, completely forgetting about your sleep schedule and filming an entire audition tape in your room at 2 in the morning (and you were belting… your poor neighbors). It wasn’t until four that you finally turned in for the night, not bothering to take off your makeup or get changed-- simply falling onto your pillow and blacking out the moment you hit it. You were definitely sleeping the next day away… but at that moment, you didn’t mind. Having a day off from your busy schedule wouldn’t be so bad.

“I sent in an audition tape two nights ago.” You speak confidently, wiping down the back counter that’s littered with coffee grounds. They stick to the rag like glue, tiny dots scattered along its white surface. If it weren’t for your apron,

and your expertly rolled up white turtleneck sweater, you would look alot like this rag right now.

“Did you?” Jimin questions from the bar, sleeving the cup before placing it on the handoff counter.

“Christopher! Medium cappuccino!” He calls, multitasking while he cranes his neck to still hear you.

“I did. I feel really good about this one..” You add, meeting him beside the bar as he lifts the pitcher up and down to create the latte-art of a flower in the center of the mug. You have tried sooooo many times to make latte art… and every time it ended up looking like a glob. A big, distorted snowball. Jimin was the master of latte art, always finishing it off beautifully with a whip of his wrist. The foam atop telling a story. “It was so late-- I was totally out of it… and yet I actually enjoyed myself while filming it. I just imagined being there.. In center stage.”

“I’m happy for you, Y/n!” He smiles, turning to place the hot mug next to the cappuccino.

“Caleb! Medium caramel latte!”

He was only half listening to you. The cafe was bustling, so it truly wasn’t Jimin's fault that he was sidetracked— but nothing could hold back the small smile that played at the edge of your lips. You had actually enjoyed singing for the first time in a while.. all because of Taehyung's Academy Award winning pep talk. Who knew that all you needed was for someone to tell you like it is. With a minuscule smile, you turn back towards the counter and lift the latte you’d whipped up this morning to your lips. Your distorted snowball is fully on display at the top.

Despite the busyness, the front register is deserted, giving you time to think for a moment about the pep talk... or rather, the person who gave you it.

“I think Taehyung likes you.” Jimin deadpans.

Uhhh… You nearly spit out your snowball at that— clearing your throat as you set it down slowly onto the wooden countertop. He speaks as if this is a natural conversation starter… it’s not.

“I’m sorry?” You croak.

“Taehyung.” He repeats, turning his head in your direction with a knowing smirk. “I think he likes you.”

You give him a scoff of disbelief, watching as yet another group of regulars enter through the door. “That’s not true, he just doesn’t know me… so he made an effort to talk to me.” If you weren’t studying the group, you would've seen Jimin giving you a scrutinized look.

So, now you have his attention.

“Y/n. It’s so obvious… He spent the entire night talking to you, he left moments after you did to give you your keys and he never came back. If that isn’t someone who’s interested, I don’t know what is.” Jimin is an expert at multitasking, finishing off two drinks at the same time and calling them out.

“Well, Jimin, when people don’t know each other, they get to know each other. It’s this thing called talking and becoming friends.” The sentence hangs in the air as the doorbell chimes, signaling that yet another customer has entered the cafe and into the swarm of regulars, but the two of you disregard the sound and continue on through your bickering.

“I’m just saying, Taehyung doesn’t usually talk to girls.” Jimin adds, wiping his hands off on the white rag seated beneath his espresso machine. “Even if they wanted his attention, he didn’t give it to them. I mean— he’s nice to girls, don’t get me wrong.. but he’s never talked to them like he did with you on game night. I don’t think he’s dated anyone since he got here.”

“He’s career driven.” You say quickly.

If you thought his smirk couldn’t get any wider, you were wrong. “Yeah, girls don’t know that about him— meaning he told you, and not other girls.” Jimin deadpans.

You stare blankly at him. There’s no way. No way that a guy as attractive as Taehyung would even think about looking at you like that. There’s just no way. You’ve never had a boyfriend... or even a guy friend, until Jimin. Eventually, you’d accepted the fact that maybe you just weren’t that interesting. Maybe you weren’t pretty enough. Maybe you couldn’t flirt…. okay, you definitely couldn’t flirt— but that’s besides the point.

“He’s not interested in me.” You conclude.

“He is.” Jimin counters.

“He’s not.”

“He so is.”

“He’s so not.”

“Y/n. I swear to you. He’s interested and you need to shoot your shot.” He whisper-screams, throwing the rag in his hand onto the bar.

“Taehyung is not-“

A clearing of someone’s throat from beyond the register cuts your argument short, nearly making you lose your balance when you see who the source was.

You’re fairly certain you’ve turned pale.

Taehyung stands in front of you, eyeing between the two of you with an awkward expression. God, how long has he been standing there? “I figured I should step in before the two of you start fist fighting.”

“Hey!” The shrill of your voice causes you to wince.

“Hey.” He says with a smile, folding his arms in front of him and raising his eyes to the menu above your head. You can’t help the glare you send towards Jimin, who's notably holding back his laughter as he moves to the blender, the station farthest from the register. Ridiculous.

“What can we get for you?” You ask routinely, trying not to make it obvious that you were just talking about him… and praying that he wasn’t there to hear what the two of you were talking about.

“Hmm…” He looks especially good today, wearing a brown, long coat and a brown plaid scarf around his neck. He wasn’t kidding when he said his favorite color was brown, that’s for sure. It suits him. His hair is wavy, flowing to a point just under his eyebrows with a split off center, giving you the tiniest glimpse of his forehead. “How about an americano with hazelnut, and some cream?”

“We can do that for ya!” You have to force yourself to stop looking at him, pressing the buttons to ring up his order before you forget. You nearly overlook ringing up the hazelnut syrup. Why were you so dazed? He’s already placed his credit card into the chip reader, but your foggy brain asks anyway. “Anything else?”

“Yes, actually.” He speaks as you move towards the bar beside the register. Grabbing an empty pitcher, you pour the milk inside and reach for the steamer. He drops a dollar into the tip jar, not giving you enough time to thank him for the unnecessary effort before he speaks again. “Are you free later?”

NEXT CHAPTER

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[utterlyinevitable]

Small fic request where Odette cries and Ethan is the one to comfort her 🥺

Intonation 

Pairing: Ethan x F!MC (Odette Hall) Rating: General Summary: In lieu of barging into Ethan’s office in that totally bizarre scene, later in the day when things get too much, Ode goes to cry in a closet. Of course the last person she’d ever want to see catches her in such a state.  Trope: Angst; Supply Closet; 1.9

Word Count: 1,096

A/N: Here’s some rare Book 1 OxE! A lot of the time I forget they (Odette) did not like the another as people until mid-way through Banerji’s case, definitely after 1.11 is when they start to encroach on work friends territory. Sooo here’s some 1.9 angst.   

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The linen closet is dim; one of the two fluorescent bulbs out of juice. It’s a good thing too. Odette certainly doesn’t want anyone to know she’s here; crying in an unused closet of the newly renovated fifth floor wing not too far from where Dr. Banerji’s being hidden away.

Her head thrown back against the empty metal shelving, hot tears rolling down her cheeks like an unforgiving rockfall. Her arms folded so tightly around her chest. It feels like everything’s caving in. The crushing sense of failure crippling her and wringing her lungs until no sound comes out; just he hot tears of a minute of weakness.   

She’ll allow this inconvenience ten minutes. A quick ten minutes to herself in the most secluded of places. Yes. Ten minutes to get it all out and then pretend like nothing’s happened. 

Odette Hall lets go. Lets the picture perfect painted façade fall like a curtain on a play. Alone, in the dark, without any spotlight or watchful scrutinizing eyes, she lets the most private part of herself free, momentarily. Water runs down her cheeks as unforgiving as an overflowing river. There’s a prick at her sides, from her pristine fingernails digging into the fabric of her cotton scrubs. If she gripped any harder she’d tear a neat little hold. 

Everything she’s feeling tightened together like the frayed segments of a rubberband ball on the verge of snapping. Her frustration for this PITA patient she can’t seem to shake; can’t seem to get the diagnosis nor assert herself and her abilities. Another person who just sees her as a young and pretty face. Most of all she’s crying for the newest diagnosis she’s had to give. Odette knew the job wasn’t going to be easy - worthwhile things never are - it’s just... She needs some time to stop feeling so much. 

The wing is so new she doesn’t hear the door opening. Yet she hears him, unmistakably, in the quiet hum in ventilation of this wing.  

“Rookie?”

Doesn’t matter that the condescending nickname is said with more concerned wrapped confusion than she’d ever think capable of such a pompous and stoic man. Him being here - now of all times - is a burn. A brandish on his already weak perception of her, she’s sure. 

She turns her shoulder to him, wipes her eyes with the pads of her fingertips as to not muss her makeup any further. Dabbing so the red of her skin doesn’t give her away. Odette can feel the lingering heat; the drying trail of utter disappointment staining her features. 

“I’m alright, Dr. Ramsey,” she says; confident and like she’s above it all. Like he’s just walked in on nothing out of the ordinary; like she’s just looking over a case file. Cool, calm and frighteningly casual in the shadows. Even if the reds overtaking the whites of her eyes and other telltale signs will give her away as soon as she turns around.  

“Clearly.” 

His scoff is muted by something she’s only ever seen a glimmer of before in the depths of his icy stare. Pity, maybe? Either way it forces her stomach down to the darkened depths of wherever this outburst spurred from. She doesn’t need his endless sky-lit eyes imploring her. Doesn’t need for him to find another reason to berate her today. 

Out the corner of her eye she sees Dr. Ramsey shut the door; near enough so no one could peek in, ajar enough not to rouse suspicions of infidelity. 

“What happened?” he asks. 

“It’s nothing. I’m fine, really.” Odette turns to him and shoots the brightest, most composed grin. Hopes that in this poor lighting he cannot truly see through the cracks. 

Odette should know better than to muster false flattery with a lie detector. 

She’s shuffling in her heels trying to find a gap to slip through and out of this unpleasant predicament, whilst his arms are crossed. He won’t budge to let her past; statuesque and imperious in the doorway. 

Resigned and huffy, she folds her arms, matching his stance as best she can.  It’s a face-off in this 4-by-4 box. In such close quarters Dr. Ramsey’s cologne mingles with her perfume. Foreign and laudatory; sandalwood and soap, a hint of citrus too. 

“If you must know, I had to deliver a difficult diagnosis.”  

He still doesn’t move.  

There’s a bite in her exasperated retort; “I’d like to get back to work now.” A tap of her toe hones her impatient point. 

“What happened?” he says once more. 

“I just told you-” 

“The diagnosis, Hall.” His face softens once he catches the rigid way her spine strengthens at his uncompromising tone. “What was it?” 

A gust of stale air passes her dry lips, her eyes cast down and refuse to meet his. The new wing’s linoleum tiling has blue and green speckles mixed with gray. 

In addition to the hum of the central air, all Odette can hear is the beating of her heart prick up to her ears with the bubbling emotion once more. But her ten allotted minutes are over and now she has an audience. 

After a deep sobering breath she all but whispers,

“Preeclampsia.” 

Neither doctor tries to hide the pained expression that contorts their features and washes over them. 

A moment of silence reigns; whether intentional or not, both look in opposite directions to mourn the memory. 

Dr. Ramsey is the first one to speak; his voice gruff after clearing his throat. 

“And?” 

“Being monitored.” Odette’s eyes flick to his face. “She’s okay. For the time being. I’m planning to check on her after lunch.” 

Dr. Ramsey gazes down at his watch and Odette wonders if he has her schedule memorized by now. He assigns her patients, tells her where and when in the day to visit Naveen, seemingly finds her at one of the lowest points in her medical career with no effort at all. Does he know she should be on her break - is on her own time. 

He finally steps aside, further into the dark space; 

“Grab some food, Dr. Hall.” 

She musters a tight smile in gratitude as she slides past him and into the grateful bustle of day. She’s nearly fully illuminated by the bright white light when solemn - personable, even - words reach her ears. 

“And, Rookie,”

She turns to him, green eyes trained on the shelving beyond his shoulder. 

“If you need anything, please come find me.” 

Odette nods, once and short, before walking away; determined not to show another emotion to half the reason for her grief. 

_____________________

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