#Ask someone to describe an attractive smile and they will most likely say ‘shiny white teeth’. To give your smile and your confidence a real

[fatefulfaerie]

Once Upon A Dream

A very merry February birthday to @snidgetwidgeon. I hope you like it. It’s based on the first couple minutes of this!

It was an understatement to say that Zelda was dissatisfied with who was cast as the Prince to her Sleeping Beauty. It shouldn’t have been a surprise that the new kid would get the role, being one of only three boys in the program. She always hated that boys got praised for landing one measly pirouette while her fouettés on pointe were heavily criticized, but now that one of the boys’ tomfoolery would make her look like a fool in her first lead role, she silently grumbled as she slid her pointe shoe onto her left foot, securing it around her heel with her thumbs.

She was tying the shiny ribbons around her ankle when he walked into the studio, Zelda seeing him out of the corner of her eye and immediately deciding that was enough.

She felt his eyes on her as she continued to pretend she didn’t notice he had entered, Zelda switching over to put on her right shoe.

“Always nice to see my students arriving before I do,” Zelda heard the teacher say as she entered the room and made a B-line for the stereo, placing her purse, notebook, and keys on the wooden stool next to it. Zelda’s head had popped up immediately at the sound of her clunking heels.

“We’ll work on the Act III variation today,” the teacher said as she finnicked with stereo. “Out of order, I know, but I figured it would get you two acquainted with moving with each other. I’m assuming you two have at least met.”

The teacher said that expecting a reply in the affirmative, and thus she turned around when there was nothing spoken to see the two dancers at opposite sides of the room deflecting their gazes from each other. 

It would seem odd that two people who had taken technique classes together for a month now wouldn’t have formally met, but in dance classes you know someone else’s name and skill level within the first fifteen minutes of class, without even speaking a word. Unless they already know each other or become friends, most dancers never truly have a formal introduction to each other.

“Are you seriously going to waste my time being shy?” The teacher asked rhetorically. “Go on.”

“Zelda,” she continued, prompting her star pupil. “Introduce yourself.”

Zelda had to keep from mumbling that she just did.

“I’m Zelda,” she said, finally actually looking her partner in his striking, blue eyes. Zelda denied that her heart fluttered.

“Link,” he said in reply, Zelda unable to help herself from checking him out in his bicep-exposing white shirt and his black tights that gave her a more than fantastic impression of his more private parts. However, if she were asked about Link’s appearance at this very moment, she would deny her attraction and say he was terribly ugly.

Link checked her out similarly, the way her ensemble of a blue leotard and pale pink tights accentuate her curves in the most perfect ways. He knew right then and there that he had a terrible crush on his pas de deux partner.

“Be sure you two warm up to each other before opening night,” the teacher said as she moved to the front of the classroom, her footwear now changed from black wedges to beige jazz shoes.

“All right,” the teacher started, “so you both will start stage left.”

Zelda moved to that side of the room and Link looked as if he wasn’t entirely sure what stage left was until he followed Zelda. Zelda more than noticed this and once again resented Link for existing. If not, they may have gotten an actual professional to partner her.

——————————————————————————————————

Zelda stood in the curtain wings with her hands on her hips, keeping her feet warm by transitioning which one was pointed. 

Her tutu bounced slightly as she did, the silver fabric on top of the corset and the tulle perfectly accentuating her elegance. Link came up beside her as they waited for their entrance.

“Do you still hate me?” Link asked.

They had been rehearsing for almost two months now, and Link had gotten the feeling that their cheeky, sarcastic exchanges between run throughs had meant she had started to warm up to him. Their pas de deux had been running quite smoothly and even the director kept using the phrase “poignant chemistry” to describe their dynamic on stage. Now that they neared the end of their opening show, Link figured he would test the waters.

He didn’t see Zelda smirk, but she did.

“Maybe,” she replied teasingly, continuing to warm up her feet.

“Our queue is coming up,” Link said as he offered his hand, Zelda taking it so he could gently clutch her fingertips as the choreography so deemed.

They walked on stage with pointed toes and fake smiles, presenting themselves to the audience with their muscle-toned legs in effacé devant. They turned their heads towards each other as their smile turned more genuine, Zelda even adorning a blush that was much more than what her stage makeup had been.

The pair moved their outside arms to middle fifth and back to second before stepping forward together, dislodging their hands and, right on the music, assuming a croisé position.

And thus the dance began, Zelda thinking through every step as she did it, and always anticipating the next, while all at once making it look as effortless as possible to the audience.

Temps lié, drift arms to cross in front, rond de jambe to fifth, sous-sus up

Link’s hand in hers was firm and steady as she moved her leg to passé and into a front développé with very little shake. She leaned back into a cambré and met his glance on the way down, now observing his blush.

Fouetté to attitude, stay steady on your box

Link’s hand met her waist with a gentle touch of support, Zelda feeling stable even as she moved her arms in the port de bras. Everything seemed to come easy when dancing with him.

He turned her around as her leg shifted to an arabesque, his hands on either side on her hips until they let go, allowing the audience to clap at her strength.

Sous-sus, run, run, run, run, run to tendu derrière, turn to face Link and

Here it was, this part she had grown to love.

The choreography was for them to run to each other, for their hands to meet as Link lowered into a lunge and Zelda went into a penché that descended her head down to his. Their teacher had referred to it as “the kiss”, although it was only Zelda resting her chin on his to only mimic the appearance of Aurora and the Prince kissing in their happy ending.

The first time they did it in rehearsal, Zelda resisted even going down far enough to touch his chin, and Link himself was too embarrassed to not flinch away from those all-too-tempting lips. Over the next several weeks of rehearsal, however, the two got used to touching chins just as they were meant to.

Yet on this opening night, Link decided just as he lunged that he simply could not resist anymore, not allowing her to rest her chin on his by instead moving his lips to hers.

It was only a small peck, as there was the rest of the dance to do, but as Zelda stepped back from the penché, she smiled, and right then and there Link knew his feelings of love were reciprocated. 

The rest of the pas de deux went smoother than ever and, by the end, no fake smile was necessary. For all Link and Zelda cared, the audience could have withered away and left them alone, together in their unspoken love.

[princelestatdelioncourt]

Goddess of The Golden Caves

I do not know how it happened but it happened. It was just a night like any other at the Chateau. Tuesday night. Very warm night. I loved to listen to the frogs and crickets by the creek close to the Chateau. Sometimes I leave my bedroom windows open just to listen to these creatures, its relaxes me, it always did since I was a mortal.

But that night I was walking around the Chateau and Sevraine was walking on the opposite way. Sevraine the Egyptian slave for the Queen now dressed beautifully on a fine white lace long dress like a roman Goddess. As we approached I realized I still had my gaze on her and nothing else I just gave a smile and she gave me the most gracious beautiful smile I’ve seen in nights.

“Good Evening Lestat” she said with her sweet delicate tone. I remembered then that night at her Golden Cove, she and her coven dancing around , some naked, some dressed with these fine garments, gold and more gold, shinning, their songs,  leaving me blind and dizzy like an enchantment, bathing with them… all blurry ..then back at what I was at standing in front of her now.

“Good Evening Sevraine” I simply replied awakening from that stupor

We just talked about the night and she mentioned she was going outside and if I would accompany her to a night promenade. I agreed. I had nothing else to do after all. And I really wanted to walk around the gardens and listens to these creatures of the night a little bit closer.

We walked on a slow pace, conversing about how things were going to her Coven and how everything now was peaceful. And that I should visit them. I agreed and not even asking I knew my mother Gabrielle will be there, so I suppose, I should go visit soon.

Obviously, Sevraine can read my mind and so she did

“Yes Gabrielle is there with us often. You should come and see your mother. She comes and goes as she pleases, no rules there as it is in here. Just respect each other”

I nodded

“Yes I will visit soon now that everything is peaceful and calm” I looked at her and found her looking at me. I found myself marveled by her beauty. I always did since that night years ago. “I can visit tonight. We can go tonight. It’s just dawn, there will be plenty of time by the time we get there. We can follow the sunset as we travel” I smiled and she nodded with a gentle smile.

Not a second later, we were in the air. We followed the sunset, not flying too fast. The sky was absolutely beautiful. A mix of purples, blues, oranges, pinks, the sun just set on the horizon. And the air was warm even flying.

We arrived at sunset what it seemed to be same sunset when we left the Chateau. But it was not. I could feel the salt, the gold, the cave. It all had a different essence.

We walked that same passage I once went through years ago. The walls shiny from the water and gold, that essence again, a mix of flowers and warm water and vanilla and fire…I felt that swirl again. I could listen to their songs now as we approached and once we finally arrived to the big chamber it was just exactly at it always been.

I looked around, the coven women dancing on these same silk and lace garments, their long hairs, smiling, flowers, some threw rose petals on the air. They knew I was there, I could sense they knew but non stopped dancing or smiling.

I felt then someone grabbing my hand delicately. It was Sevraine. She wanted me to follow her.

I walked behind her, she was still holding my hand and we went to a smaller chamber. This one had no natural pond but a lot of candles that smelled flowers and warm vanilla around the walls and floor, and white pillows here and there and on the floor ready to be used to lay down and relax. White sheets, silk. Everything was enchanting again.

As we walked in that chamber, Sevraine left my hand and she walked to stand in the middle of that pile of pillows and she slowly sat down, Her eyes on me.

“Come, please” she said inviting me to sit down with her. Her voice retoured the cave walls but it was beautiful and soft.

I did as she said and I sat down beside her.

“This still looks the same as it was when I first came here years ago.” I said

“Yes and it will be for centuries. You are always welcomed here Lestat” she said

I looked at her and I felt all my senses awoke. It did once years ago and now again. I tried to avoid that, to avoid what the hell was that but I loved it at the same time. I felt enchanted once again.

“No is not a spell Lestat, I am not throwing at you a spell” she smiles gently and very appealing “ It’s you, it’s your soul. You crave for love. You crave for feelings. You crave for need and to be loved and here you are free from any rules, papers, titles that the Chateau might make you feel of. Here you are just Lestat” . Her eyes were so captivating, I looked at her lips as she spoke. I felt that again. And I really didn’t need blood. It was blood? Or it was just simply pleasure and to be there my senses overcame more awaken.

She came closer, I leaned forward. Her hand gently touching my chest over my shirt but my eyes on hers. I wanted to kiss her and I don’t know why but I could not stop myself. And so I did. We kissed. Slowly and passionately. I felt absorbed by the most decadent smooth cold feeling. And I could not stop kissing her. She broke the kiss and looked at me, still so very close to my lips and smiled.

“Stay with us tonight…stay with me. I want to show you what you need most” her voice was extremely soft and so beautiful

I opened my eyes and looked at her and nodded. I ran my fingertips very softly over her shoulder up to her neck. I wanted to kiss her skin, I wanted to feel her.

“So do I…” she replied. Ha Lestat, she can read your mind, remember that!

We kissed again and again and again. I felt she was making me lay on the pillows and I gave no resistance to that. I laid there kissing her, my arms around her, my hand running slowly over her naked shoulder or that silk dress. She once again broke the kiss and put her index finger over my lips.

“There’s another way we can feel each other differently like we did before that night years ago” she smiled at me and went to the side of these pillows we were at and grabbed a small craved wood box. Inside, two syringes. I knew then what she meant before. I smiled and let myself fall back to the pile of pillows.

“And that is what do you want? Us to feel like mortals once before?”i asked her looking up at her.

“I haven’t really felt the effects of this modern medicine before with anyone else. I felt the arousement and you do but who could I share with?” she said as she sat on me. I smiled looking at her. I experienced that with others so I knew the effects.

“Just don’t tell me it will be consequences because enough I had of that” I said somewhat joking. I didn’t know how this will work for a vampire woman. It worked for me and that gave me a child. I really didn’t want that again but I wondered what would happen now, would that be a vampire child? I erased these stupid thoughts of me and went back to reality..

“No don’t worry, I will not procreate. This will only give us mortal pleasure, nothing else.” she once again was able to read my mind.

I trusted her and to be true with you reader, I wanted that. It was a very long time since I felt "mortal with my own body" and I felt attracted to her. Always been. And I don’t know why. She has always been so sensual and attractive to me. We kissed passionately once again and I felt again the desire to have her. My mind trying to create images of how to do this as mortals do and my body screaming for blood. The need, the want, the feel, the blood, the desire…and she broke the kiss again now this time to inject that liquid in my veins. I felt a cold sensation, not as cold as we. I looked at her as she injected that into her veins. She threw away these empty syringes and we kissed again. Now it was matter of waiting for our bodies to awake to these mortal needs and desires.

No long after I felt it as we kissed and caressed more, our hands ran on each other bodies slowly, I felt that sensation more and more. Now I don’t needed her blood only but her body and the whole her. All and everything. We got rid of our clothes as we kissed. Brushing our fangs on our skin. That small taste of blood increasing our senses and needs. Her moans much more increased my needs, Her nails crawling my skin so much to make it bleed. From passion to wild, we were not kissing each other like if it was our air to breathe, rolling on these pillows like a battle, biting our skin. She pushed me against the wall I could not even realize how fast that was but i found it pleasurable and playful when she clashed against me to take me again. To kiss me, to pull my hair, to crawl her nails. I almost bite her but that would drive us to climax and that was so much fun to end all of that too soon. From wall to wall we went, sometimes breaking mirrors or whatever it was on our path. We were savage and wild. The fire in our eyes. Our bodies, half vampire half mortal. Extraordinary sensations. Finally to fall over these pillows again and I could not hold it anymore. I could only see flashes of what was happening, what she was doing to me, I could hear her moans, I could feel my heart racing, my hands crawled on her skin and when I felt it to happen, I sank my fangs on her neck and there it was the ecstasy. The climax. As it never happened while I was human but only as vampire. So intense no words can’t describe it. Blood, body and soul at once. And this way with these shots, is not an ordinary orgasm that last seconds but this lasts very long time. I suppose is the mix between our desire for blood and body needs or vampire powers. Never dared to ask.

Finally when we could not go any longer and that ecstasy ended, we laid there. I laid there, arms open, eyes closed, trying to catch my breath and my heart to slow down and listening to her laughing softly. I looked at her and I had no words even I wanted to say so many.

“No need to say anything, what just happened described all the words.” She said

“Yes it does” I replied caressing her arm “I don’t think I can’t stop now. its supposed to be like this?”

“Nobody said you have to stop Lestat. There are no rules here” she leaned closed and kissed me passionately. I felt my body responding to her kisses. Wasn’t that over? Apparently not.

After this second time, which it was so intense as well, we held each other and talked about the old world and modern world, the places we have visited, things she saw. I was amused by her acknowledge and I think that is why I was always attracted to her.

Sunrise was approaching and I felt my body weakling, pushing my limits to stay awake even after the sun was out, there were no windows in that cave, our bodies felt the need to sleep. Maybe she didn't need to sleep. she was an ancient and I was just still young in comparison. I could not even remember how I fell asleep. One minute I was talking to her and then I remember holding her in my arms and then nothing more.

I awoke still laying on that pile of pillows, under these soft sheets and holding her same way as when I fell asleep. To be true, I always loved to hold someone while on my sleep. I know why and it still hurts to think about it. From my first love arms I was kidnapped on that cold night two hundred years ago. And since then, sometimes I dream someone will kidnap me again from these arms that are holding me while I sleep.

Sevraine knew I was thinking on that so she only looked at me in silence but suddenly she changed into a conversation. I perceived then the call from the Chateau, they needed me there. And off we went back to France.

[artificialqueens]

She Plays Bass (Crygi) - Frankenvenus

Gigi Goode knew bassists were good with their hands, but her sister’s punk band’s bassist gave that thought an entire new meaning.

Read on Ao3

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Expression of sibling love wasn’t really Gigi Goode’s strongest point, but she admired her sister Stevie eminently. Because of their mere one year age gap, they had grown up best friends. They’d bicker on-and-off, as most sisters did, but for the most part, they were two halves of a whole.

That was until high school happened.

Gigi remembered the exact day Stevie emerged from the bathroom with silver hair and a mullet. Her mother had to stifle a scream and her father was dead silent. Gigi thought it was the coolest thing in the world, but Stevie didn’t seem to want to talk to her about it.

“Hey Stevie, do you wanna go to the cinema with me? I got tickets to see that new Tim Burton movie with the big aliens…”

“No way. It looks shitty. I’m going to a party at Nicky’s place. If mom asks where I am, tell her I’m staying over at Jackie’s for the night.”

A door was slammed on her face and it felt like her dignity was crushed with it. Little did she know, that was only the first of many slammed doors. For the next year, she wouldn’t understand what had happened to Stevie, but then she reached high school herself and it all made sense.

Gigi was quite the outcast during middle school. Her dark brown hair was frizzy and her large braces gave her a slight lisp, but when her braces were removed and she bought herself keratin treatment over summer, she went from ugly duckling to swan. The minute she stepped into her new high school with hundreds of unfamiliar faces, she was pulled into the popular group and it stayed that way.

Now it was 1998 and she was in senior year, questioning if her friends - the popular girls - were truly her friends at all. They were insolent and loud, and Gigi was constantly riddled with guilt at her passive manner towards her friends’ behaviour. She was too afraid to defend anyone they picked on, so instead, she’d slip them a discreet compliment in the middle of the hallway - only when she knew no one else was around.

Her sister was at community college right now, though still living at home. She and Gigi didn’t talk often. Their high school experiences had been so different, it was difficult to relate to one another. Stevie mastered the art of giving no fucks, but Gigi still carried herself in an untouchable princess-like way.

One thing they could relate to was their mutual lack of interest in men. Gigi was the only person in her friend group without a boyfriend, and she didn’t see that changing anytime soon, despite the constant harassment from her friends Dahlia and Violet. She couldn’t help it - there was just something about the sweaty jocks that made her want to run in the opposite direction.

Stevie called herself a feminist and was very outspoken against sexism, much to their fathers dismay. The girl had recently formed a punk-rock band called ‘Lady Disciples’ with some girls from campus. Gigi hadn’t met most of them, but the group consisted of five girls; Stevie, Nicky, Crystal, Jaida and Widow.

The newly-formed band would usually practice in Nicky’s basement, however, for some reason, their usual location was out of bounds one day, and Stevie announced that they’d be temporarily moving their rehearsal spot to the Goode’s garage. Somehow, their relocation of rehearsal space prompted Stevie to believe that Gigi was now her personal servant. The older girl had requested that when the band arrived, Gigi was to bring them a bowl of chips and cans of beer. Of course, Gigi said yes, the main reason being that she was afraid to say no, but also, part of her wanted to meet Stevie’s friends that she had heard so little about.

The sudden crashing of drums from the room below indicated to Gigi that the band was now set up, which was when her sister had asked her to come downstairs and waitress. Stevie was the lead guitarist of the band, which is why when Gigi heard a complex drum solo, she knew that the other members had arrived.

For some reason, Gigi caught herself checking her own appearance before going downstairs. Her bangs were sitting just above her painted brows, shiny and perfect. Her wavy chestnut locks were thrown over each shoulder. She looked presentable - prepared to impress.

She skipped down the stairs and grabbed five beers from the freezer, wincing at the icy temperature against her warm skin. It felt slightly refreshing, though. The Missouri summer heatwave was getting to her, despite her wearing just a loose white button-up blouse tucked into brown corduroy trousers.

She placed the cans on the counter before reaching into a cupboard for a bowl and some hot Cheetos. She filled the bowl up so it was practically spilling over, before realising that she’d have to carry all five beers plus the overflowing bowl at one time. Somehow she succeeded, but as soon as she entered the busy garage, she dropped all the cans onto the couch.

“Sorry!” she squealed, before looking up at the five pairs of eyes staring at her.

A girl with short scarlet hair and piercing blue eyes - that was Nicky, a girl with a golden afro and a sparkling smile - Widow, a girl with beautiful black braids wrapped up in a bun who Gigi didn’t recognise, and then the final girl.

The final girl was perched on a stool, tuning what looked to be a bass guitar, but her eyes were fixated on Gigi. Her hair was a beautiful light shade of blue that reached just past her shoulders and her slightly large ears poked through the sides. Her skin was an olive tan, contrasting against her oversized red band tee which had been tucked into a sinfully tight pair of denim bell-bottoms.

Gigi must’ve stared at the girl for a little longer than she should have because the girl began smirking before shifting her focus back to her strings.

“This is my sister, some of you already know her,” Stevie said monotonously, handing a can of beer to each band member. “J, Crys; go ahead and introduce yourselves.”

The tall girl with the braids approached her with a warm smile, “I’m Jaida. Drummer. Genevive, right?”

“Gigi,” the brunette mumbled, shaking Jaida’s hand. The girl was threateningly beautiful, but not nearly as threatening as the blue-haired girl approaching her slowly, her high platform heels echoing across the garage.

That was until she flashed a smile, and everything about her softened. Her teeth were bright, her lips were a glittery red, and her eyes were a hypnotic umber. She took Gigi off guard by pulling her into a hug, nearly knocking all the air out of the frail brunette’s lungs.

“Gigi! I’ve heard so much about you, I’ve been dying to meet you,” she chuckled breathily, blessing Gigi with the softest voice she had ever heard, “My name is Crystal!”

The tanned girl pulled back and shook Gigi’s hand, and Gigi’s gaze remained fixated on her short, black-painted nails for a little too long.

“Uh, can we practice now?” Stevie asked, plugging her guitar into the amp and causing a slight screech noise to fill the room.

Much to Gigi’s surprise (despite everything surprising her because this insanely attractive girl had her breathless), Crystal turned to her sister with a pout.

“Can she watch us practice for a little bit?”

The brunette couldn’t understand why someone as cool as the girl in front of her would want to spend any time around her, but she was absolutely down for watching the band rehearse. Jaida positioned herself behind the large drum kit, Stevie and Widow grabbed their electric guitars, Crystal returned to her stool and strummed her bass, Nicky spoke ‘1, 2, 3’ into her microphone to assure it was working, and Gigi plopped herself onto the tatty garage couch, placing her hands in her lap and waiting for the performance to start.

And when Jaida began to play the intro beat to ‘You Oughtta Know’ by Alanis Morisette - Gigi’s secret favourite song - the brunette knew that the performance would blow her away.

Nicky’s voice was like silk, Widow’s electric guitar was remarkable and Jaida’s ability to maintain the rhythm with so much passion was insane, but Gigi couldn’t keep her eyes off Crystal. The way her lips would part as she riffed under Nicky’s vocals, gently rocking back and forth to the beat of the music made Gigi swoon. Her eyes would darken with concentration as she watched her own fingers move from string to string with such intricate movements.

When the chorus hit, Gigi felt euphoric. She wanted to get up and dance, but she was far too aware of her sister’s piercing gaze. She instead simply tapped her foot to the beat, but her beam was apparent. She hoped no one noticed the way her thighs were tightly pressed against one another as she watched Crystal flex her slender, tan fingers.

Then the second pre-chorus arrived. Everything was going great until Nicky sang the lines, “It was a slap in the face, how quickly I was replaced, and are you thinking of me when you fuck her,” because suddenly Crystal’s eyes were staring down at Gigi with a look that could only be described as lustful.

Boys had looked at Gigi in that way before - when she was dancing around on the football field in her skimpy cheerleader’s uniform - but this was so different. Sometimes Gigi questioned if, perhaps, she was attracted to girls, but that entire prospect was unknown territory to her.

But now she felt as if her entire mind was being read by the blue-haired girl’s hazel orbs, like she was reading her every racing thought. When the song ended, Gigi managed to get out a few compliments before quickly excusing herself to her bedroom.

Her head raced with many thoughts - none of which were any she’d like anyone to hear. She knew she looked at girls in a way that she had been told she shouldn’t, but she had never gone further than checking someone out. One time, in middle school, Stevie had a bunch of her friends round in the basement. Gigi spied on them, just like any curious middle schooler would, and saw two girls - Nicky and another girl she had never seen before - making out on the bean bag. The most prominent thought in her mind was ‘I want to do that,’ and she carried that thought with her to now, at age eighteen.

Now she was so uselessly pretending she didn’t like women. Whatever amount of discretion she had was now futile, considering she practically drooled over her sister’s bassist in front of four other people.

“God. I’m such a joke,” she muttered, staring at the chipped baby pink paint on her ceiling.

Part of her had just accepted that she’d have to live the rest of her life in the closet. She swore she was the only lesbian in Springfield - until she saw Crystal, that was. Crystal looked exactly like the ladies in the Blockbuster DVDs she secretly rented every so often. She had watched a lesbian movie called ‘Bound’ and often found her mind wandering back to the sexual scenarios in the film. She wanted someone to have their way with her whilst she lay back, whining uncontrollably, but she told herself that she’d take those dreams to her grave.

She was on the verge of horny tears when there was a knock at her door. She shot up and told whoever it was to come in, but not without a nervous voice crack. The door pushed open slowly, revealing her mom stood there with her usual warm smile.

“Hey, Genevive. Stevie was wondering if you could drive one of her bandmates home. One of the girls lives a couple of miles out of the city and she can’t drive herself home because she had a couple of beers. I’m really busy with a wedding dress so can you please do it? I’ll give you five dollars for it.”

Gigi thought for a second, before exhaling. A drive out of the city would be nice. She hadn’t been out all day, but the sun was bright and setting a golden hue across her street. She obliged and hopped off her bed, slipping her shoes into some scruffy Vans that were a hand-me-down from her sister - not unlike all her other clothes which she didn’t make herself.

She hopped downstairs, grabbing the car keys from the hallway table. She was about to turn around to go to the driveway when she clashed bodies with someone. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt her in any way, but it did cause her chest to erupt with embarrassment.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry!” Gigi gasped, before nearly dropping the keys on the floor. She saw the cerulean hair, the tan skin, and the red-painted smile.

“Apparently you’re my chauffeur!” Crystal winked, her voice filled with what sounded like excitement. For her age, she had the voice of a mid-pubescent boy, but Gigi couldn’t think of anything cuter.

“I am?” the brunette raised a brow before realising that Crystal was the girl she had been asked to drive home, ”Oh, I am! How far out of Springfield are you?”

“I’m just a little closer to the country - near the zoo.”

Gigi nodded before making her way out the front door, towards the black Subaru in the driveway. Thanks to the colour of the car, she practically burnt herself on the handle. Not wanting Crystal to make the same mistake, she quickly rushed over to the passenger side of the car and opened it for her.

“Wow. What a gentleman,” Crystal chuckled. Her laugh almost sounded like a cry, all breathy and quiet. The brunette wanted it on tape. She stepped into the car, leaving Gigi confused at how in-control she was of her body despite wearing huge platforms.

Gigi returned to her own side, hoping the older girl would see her blush and assume it was a sunburn. She slumped down in the driver’s seat and exhaled before starting up the ignition.

“Your shirt. It’s slipped,” Crystal said abruptly, cutting through the silence. She pointed at Gigi’s baggy button-up, which was falling down her shoulder slightly, displaying her baby blue laced bra.

“Oh. Shit,” the brunette’s face flushed crimson again as she felt the older girl’s eyes burn into her display of skin. She tried to suppress her inappropriate thoughts by beginning to drive. “You can put some music on if you want. There are some CDs under the dashboard.”

Crystal hummed softly and reached down in front of her, pulling out a sleeve of about eight CDs. After scanning over them with a captivating look of indecisiveness, she slipped one into the stereo. ‘The Boy is Mine’ by Brandy began playing quietly through the speakers, and Crystal began singing with the most off-tune, ear-splitting singing voice Gigi had ever heard.

“I see why you’re the bassist, huh?” Gigi joked, surprising herself with how nasty she sounded. “Sorry… I didn’t mean for it to sound like that-”

“Relax, princesa. You’re right.”

That was it. Gigi was nothing more than a puddle. Hearing Crystal speak Spanish almost made Gigi crash the car.

“So. You speak Spanish?”

“Yeah, but not much. It’s just kind of what I picked up from my mom. She’s Mexican. Do you speak Dutch? Stevie said you’re better at it than her.”

“Ja.” Gigi showed-off, earning a few beautiful giggles from the other girl, “I don’t speak much, but I’m learning. I think I wanna live with my family in the Netherlands, cause I heard they’re trying to pass a bill that will legalise gay marria-” Gigi cut herself off, wanting nothing more than to drive herself off a cliff.

She slowed the car down ever so slightly and caught a glimpse of Crystal’s lips in the rear view mirror, noticing the way they began to curl up into a smirk. Perhaps she dreamt it, but she swore she also saw the blue-haired girl swiftly drag her tongue over her lower lip.

“You like girls?” questioned the older girl, her voice an octave deeper than before.

Gigi somehow managed to squeak out a timid ‘mhm.’

Crystal smacked her lips together and shuffled around in her seat before saying, “Me too.”

If the brunette were in her room at that moment, she would’ve screamed into her cushion out of excitement, but instead, she did so internally. Her mind was racing once again.

Heart-shaped pillowy lips.

The gentle mole under her eye.

Faint freckles dusted across her nose.

Gigi had never seen someone quite like Crystal, and she found herself feeling disappointed when the latter was telling her to take a left as they had reached her neighbourhood.

The brunette pulled up onto the lane behind Crystal’s house, as the girl had requested. When the car stopped, the music automatically stopped, and the silence caused thick tension to bleed through the air.

Crystal was looking at her, and Gigi was looking at her own pale hands clasped around the wheel.

“Do you wanna come in?” the older girl asked suddenly.

“Huh?” Gigi responded stupidly fast, raising her gaze to meet the other girl and noticing how close their faces were.

“My guitar is kinda heavy. A second pair of hands might be helpful…”

If Gigi wasn’t so uselessly oblivious, she would’ve known it was just an excuse to spend more time with her. Either way, she would’ve said yes.

The two of them exited the car and made their way to the trunk, where Gigi carefully assisted Crystal whilst the latter lifted her bass and amplifier out. The brunette didn’t plan on locking the car, but quickly decided to do so when she was stepping into Crystal’s backyard - just in case she was in there for longer than anticipated.

The blue-haired girl’s home was filled with art. On every wall, there was a painting or sketch of some kind. She had multi-coloured lamps, disco lights, and fairy lights scattered around the place. The interior was straight out of a movie.

“Wow, it’s so cute in here!” Gigi gawked, her eyes overwhelmed with the number of bright colours surrounding her.

“Thanks! I cleaned it before I left this morning. Usually it’s a complete mess.”

Crystal led her into her bedroom which was just as Gigi had imagined it to be. There were multi-coloured tapestries pinned to each wall and the king-sized bed in the middle of the room had a large rainbow-crochet blanket thrown across it. The room smelt like peaches and weed - an odd mixture that somehow brought a lot of comfort to the brunette.

“That’s a pretty big bed you have there,” Gigi blurted, placing the amplifier down in the corner of the room. “You have a special someone you share it with?”

Crystal placed her guitar on its stand before turning to Gigi, folding her arms casually and shaking her head, “No. I just like a large, comfy bed for all the ladies I take home. I like to give them the best treatment I can, so they’re filled with regret when they run back to their boyfriends.”

Gigi felt faint once more, her breath hitching as Crystal slowly approached her, looking in her eyes like the cat who caught the canary. She watched as Crystal kicked off her shoes, going from 6’2 to 5’10 - something that would be comical to Gigi if she wasn’t soaking her underwear through.

“I saw the way you were looking at me, Geege,” she whispered, her face mere inches apart from the brunette’s, knocking the air out of the younger girl’s lungs simply with the use of a damn nickname. “I want you to tell me you want me.”

The taller girl felt her eyes water with desire. Crystal was so close - her lips could be on Gigi’s with a single movement.

“Please,” she managed to get out. “I’ve wanted you since I first saw you. Please.”

“Tell me how you want me,” Crystal purred.

“I want your…” Gigi blinked back tears, “I want your fingers…”

The older girl hummed, lifting her hand up to Gigi’s lips and tapping on them gently with two fingers, “Can you suck on them for me?”

Gigi nodded, parting her lips and allowing Crystal’s digits in, sucking on them gently and seductively, her eyes not leaving the older girl’s.

“So pretty, baby. Such a good girl.”

After a few seconds, Crystal withdrew her fingers before cupping the side of Gigi’s face.

“Is this okay?” she asked, her voice returning to it’s higher pitch. Gigi’s heart almost couldn’t handle it - Crystal actually wanted to take care of her. It was clear that the older girl didn’t see her as an easy fuck.

“It’s perfect,” she replied, finding herself being guided towards Crystal’s bed. She leaned back, hitting the blankets with a soft thud. Soon enough, Crystal was swinging a leg over her lips, straddling her in a swift motion.

And then she was leaning down, and their lips met. The tips of Gigi’s fingers brushed against Crystal’s jaw tenderly as they found a rhythm with one another. Gigi’s eyes fluttered closed and, at that moment, there was nothing else in the world except Crystal. The older girl’s plump lips pressed and pulled at her own, eliciting moans from the back of her throat. Gigi slipped a hand onto the nape of the tanned girl’s neck, pulling her in closer. Any notion of gentleness was gone.

Crystal pulled back, looking down at the brunette from her spot on her torso. Her hair was messy and her mouth was covered in red lipstick prints from Crystal’s own lips, but she looked absolutely ethereal.

“Is it okay if I take off your shirt?” Crystal asked sweetly, and Gigi nodded frantically.

After many quick pecks of the lips as they manoeuvred the way out of both their clothes, they were both completely naked, Gigi’s back against Crystal’s headboard with the latter sat in front of her on her knees.

“You have the most gorgeous body…” the older girl praised, tracing her fingers from down Gigi’s sternum down to her hips, watching the girl beneath her writhe with desperation.

Before Gigi could respond, Crystal’s plump lips latched on to one of her nipples, drawing her tongue over it slowly, triggering an orchestra of whines to fall from the former’s lips.

“Fuck, Crystal. I need you.”

“Where do you need me, baby girl?”

“Please,” Gigi cried out, “I want you to fuck me…”

Crystal smiled and began to trail her lips down Gigi’s body, softly and gently. No teeth were involved and she was barely rough enough to leave any marks. She held Gigi like a porcelain doll. Fragile. Delicate.

As Crystal was caressing her thighs, Gigi sat up slightly.

“Crystal I-” she began, but found herself trailing off.

“What’s wrong, hermosa?” Crystal pouted, pressing a quick kiss to Gigi’s forehead.

“I’ve never- I’m a virgin. I’ve never done this before… with anyone,” she stumbled, but was quick to react when Crystal began to pull her hands away slowly, “But I want you… so bad… like, I’ve never been more sure of anything. You’re so hot.”

The older girl blushed and she pressed her lips back onto Gigi’s torso, “Mi cielito. So cute. Let me make this extra good for you.”

Crystal’s lips kissed every bit of skin surrounding the place Gigi wanted her most. She was a tease, and her eyes were dark. The brunette couldn’t form words anymore - just pleasurable sounds.

Then Crystal’s tongue was on her clit and she almost screamed.

In her dreams, she had imagined a moment like this, but she thought she would die with that fantasy. Never would she have believed that she would get to experience it, and never did she think it would feel this good.

Crystal ate pussy like it was her job, lapping her tongue and coaxing more whines out of the girl beneath her. Gigi was leaking so profoundly, and combined with how Crystal herself was salivating, she knew the sheets would need to be thoroughly cleaned afterwards. The brunette’s back was arched and she clenched her thighs whilst Crystal swirled her tongue over her opening and began to edge the tip in.

“Fuck… Crystal…” Gigi’s hand was now in Crystal’s hair, tugging on the blue locks like they were her lifeline. She thanked the heavens that the older woman lived alone and not in an apartment, because Gigi was loud - something which she had just learned about herself that day.

Suddenly, Crystal pulled back, and Gigi moaned at the loss of contact. She needed it. She was beginning to get closer to her climax - she could feel it in the bottom of her stomach.

“Why did you- fuck,” she couldn’t finish her sentence because Crystal had pushed a finger inside of her and began to thrust at a steady pace.

“You like that, huh?” Crystal grunted, leaning over Gigi and admiring the younger girl’s large brown eyes, plump lips, high cheekbones and perfect nose, “Look at you. So beautiful. Eres la chica más bonita con la que me he acostado. Eres perfecta.”

Something about Crystal’s foreign tongue drew Gigi even closer to orgasm. She begged for Crystal to go faster, and she did exactly that. Her fingers pounded into her, shaking her whole slender frame with the intensity of Crystal’s digits. Gigi feels like butter in the older girl’s hands.

“Crystal I- I’m gonna- I’m about to-” she choked out.

“Cum for me, mi niña.”

The brunette’s jaw went slack and her lips parted, a whine leaving her as Crystal pressed their lips together again. Crystal’s fingers flexed inside her, and she moaned, swearing she was able to see stars behind her eyelids as pleasure surged all over her body - like blissful electrocution. Her hips buckled below the tanned girl, and Crystal fucked her through her orgasm until she couldn’t take anymore.

“Holy fuck,” Gigi whispered, her eyes still shut as she collapsed down on Crystal’s bed.

Crystal swung her leg off her torso and lay down beside her, “Was that a satisfactory first time?”

“Mhm. Better than I ever could’ve imagined.”

The older girl hummed a response, and they both lay there, completely naked.

“I feel like an absolute state,” Gigi blushed, turning her head to look at Crystal with a soft smile.

“You wanna eat me out in the shower?” Crystal asked nonchalantly.

“Yes.”

.

TRANSLATIONS

princesa - princess hermosa - beautiful mi cielito - my sky eres la chica más bonita con la que me he acostado. eres perfecta. - you are the prettiest girl i’ve ever laid with (fucked.) you’re perfect. mi niña - my girl

[octothorpetopus]

Dancing In The Dark

minnesotamemelord on AO3

"Mom, I swear to god." Eddie waved away his mother's hands, which were fiddling with Eddie's bow tie for the thirteenth time that evening (he counted).

"Fine, fine. Just trying to be helpful." Sonia Kaspbrak stepped back to look at her son. "Oh, my beautiful boy. You look just like your dad." She wrapped him in a hug so tight his vision went dark around the edges.

"Come on, Mom, Bill's gonna be here any minute." Eddie pulled out of his mother's arms and straightened his jacket. He looked good. Real good. For who he was trying to look good for, he couldn't have said, but he was trying nonetheless. His mother moved to brush a lock of hair off his forehead when the doorbell rang mercifully. Eddie kissed her quickly on the cheek and sprinted away before she could make any more adjustments. He slammed the screen door behind him and smiled admiringly up at Bill, who was shifting from foot to foot nervously on his front stoop. "C'mon, let's go before my mom tries to rope us into taking pictures." Bill gave him a look of mock horror and followed Eddie to the Jeep in the driveway. Eddie had mowed lawns and walked dogs for months to afford it, and he took care of it with the diligence of a mother taking care of a child. Bill slipped into the immaculate passenger seat.

“H-h-how’re we going to f-fit e-e-everyone?” Eddie’s car was a five-seater, which was not going to work for the six remaining members of the Losers Club. Luckily, he had thought of that.

“Stan’s getting Ben and Mike. We’ve just gotta get Richie.” Bill grinned as he buckled his seatbelt.

“Let’s go g-get Trashmouth, th-then.”

Richie lived close enough to the high school that he could have walked if he wanted, but he insisted that there was no ‘style’ in walking to prom. Eddie countered that a beige Jeep was not particularly stylish either, to which Richie responded that Eddie’s mom’s beige Jeep was stylish, which left Eddie more confused than insulted. Eddie jogged up the front steps to the Tozier residence and rang the doorbell, which was one of the ones that chimes like church bells when you ring it instead of a simple ding-dong. Muffled voices grew louder as a formless blob approached the door, barely visible through the frosted glass windows, and then the front door was thrown open. Eddie almost fell down the steps, and would have, if Richie hadn’t grabbed him by the arm and dragged him inside. The reason for his sudden bout of vertigo was, of course, Richie. Richie “Trashmouth” Tozier had, seemingly overnight, become hot. Really hot. Not that Eddie was attracted to him in any way, but… objectively. Hot with a capital H. His hair, which was usually a mess (Eddie had once picked a leaf out of it), was slicked back carefully, and for the first time in all the years they had known each other, Eddie could see all of Richie’s face. He was wearing what was presumably his father’s suit, but it fit him perfectly. What Eddie might have described once as lanky had transformed into a sort of lithe grace. The only thing that told him that this was, in fact, the Richie Tozier he knew was his glasses, held together with more adhesive tape than actual screws.

“Come on, Eds, my mom wants pictures.” Eddie dug his heels into the carpet, grinding Richie’s purposeful march to a halt.

“Bill’s waiting in the car, and-”

“Just one picture?” Richie fixed Eddie with a kicked puppy gaze. Eddie couldn’t say no. For some reason, he’d never been able to say no to Richie.

“Fine. One.” Richie pulled him into the living room, where Maggie and Wentworth stood, a Polaroid camera in Maggie’s perfectly manicured hands.

“Hurry up, Ma,” Richie whined as he slung an arm around Eddie’s shoulders, fixing the camera with an easy smile. Eddie couldn’t help but smile too. Richie was like that, totally infectious in everything he did. It didn’t matter if his jokes weren’t funny, you laughed anyway because he was laughing. You smiled when he smiled, and when he was happy, it was like sunlight flooded the room even if there were no windows or it was nighttime. The film came out of the camera with a soft whrrrrr, and Richie snatched it before it had a chance to develop.

“Thanks, mom. I’ll see you when I get home.”

“Be good, Richie,” she warned, but grinned when he kissed her cheek. Wentworth clapped his son on the shoulder and smiled too, the same wide and easy smile as Richie’s. Richie steered Eddie back towards the front door, and they exited into the cool May night.

"Aw, come on, I gotta sit in the back?" Richie complained, but it was superficial. Richie always rode in the back of the car, or on the back of Eddie's bike when they rode double.

"I-i-it's just for a f-few m-minutes." Bill greeted Eddie with a high-five.

"We meeting Haystack and the others there?"

"Yeah. Ben's mom wanted to take pictures even more badly than yours did."

"Y-you guys t-t-took pictures w-w-without me?"

"Be glad you avoided it," Richie reassured Bill. "We'll get pictures when we get there." Bill flipped on the radio. Queen sang "You're My Best Friend", and Richie crooned along. As with everything else, it wasn't long before Eddie's wobbling voice joined him, followed by Bill, who never stuttered when he sang and in fact had a very nice voice.

Derry High School looked mostly like it always did, short of the hand-painted banner hanging over the gym doors that said A NIGHT IN PARIS. The only thing that could've told you that it was supposed to be Paris was a seven-foot Eiffel Tower in front of the photographer and the pink tissue paper over the fluorescent lights, casting a rosy glow into the gym. It was, in a word, underwhelming, but Eddie still shivered in anticipation. He'd had both dreams and nightmares about tonight, but now he was here. There was no more fighting and no more hiding to be had.

"Not bad," came a voice from behind them. Richie, Eddie, and Bill spun around to see Stan, Mike, and Ben behind them. Mike was the one who had spoken, and he looked fly as hell. They all did. Ben had already begun to lose weight, and although he was not yet the Adonis he would one day become, he looked happier. More confident. Eddie was proud of him. He was proud of all of them for making it this far.

"Who's ready to paaaaaarty!?" Richie cried in his Movie Announcer Voice.

"Beep-beep, Richie," Stan said, rolling his eyes.

"You beep-beep, Stan, it's prom. It's time to fuckin' party." And then Richie took off into the fray, leaving the rest of the Losers to try to catch up with him. They found him by the snack table, downing a plastic cup full of orange, vaguely opaque punch.

"Richie, that's almost definitely spiked."

"Yeah, Eds, and so what?" Richie refilled his glass. "Drink up, boys, for tonight, we rise!" Drinks were passed around. Everyone except Eddie and Bill took one.

"Someone's gotta be there to drive your drunk asses home," Eddie said when Richie asked him why he was being a pussy. Richie rolled his eyes and punched Eddie's arm.

"Lame."

"Responsible."

"Same thing."

"I can have plenty of fun without getting wasted, Richie."

"Yeah, but you can have even more fun if you do." Richie waggled his eyebrows suggestively, although what exactly he was suggesting wasn't immediately clear to anyone.

"Enough, Rich, just do what you want." Richie's shoulders sagged.

"Fine. Sorry."

"It's fine. Are we dancing or not?" Richie brightened at the mention of dancing. He was a deeply atrocious dancer, not that Eddie was much better, but he loved it in such a way that no amount of insults or protests could get him to stop once he started. Richie grabbed Eddie's arm in one hand and Ben's in his other, and dragged them towards the makeshift dance floor in the middle of the gym. He began to twist and bounce in a way that someone who had never witnessed Richie's dance moves might have thought he was having a seizure. Eddie swayed from side to side, occasionally moving his arms. Mike shook his head as he looked at them and the other three, none of whom were doing particularly well either.

"White people," he muttered. The band played one upbeat track after another, and the night faded into a blur of neon lights. At one point, Richie took Eddie by the hands and pulled him into a quick and messy two-step.

"You gotta loosen up, Eddie-Spaghetti!"

"I hate it when you call me that."

"No, you don't." No, he didn't.

Still, it was prom, and most people who go to prom bring dates, so it wasn't long before the band played a slow song, specifically dedicated to all the lovebirds out there. The losers eyed each other for a moment, then broke down laughing, hardly able to drag themselves to a table in the corner.

"I need a smoke break." Richie pushed himself away from the table and patted his pocket, where he had presumably smuggled a carton of cigarettes. "Anyone care to join me?" His eyes flicked momentarily towards Eddie, although Eddie couldn't have smoked even if he wanted to.

"None of us smoke, Richie, why would we-"

"Sure. Why not? I've got nothing better to do." Eddie stood up, interrupting Ben.

"Cool. Cool." Richie smiled that little enigmatic smile of his, and he and Eddie left the gym, finding a place to sit outside the school's loading dock. Richie sat on a stack of crates and clumsily lit a cigarette. He turned his head up to the sky and blew out a long stream of smoke, almost silver against the black night sky. Eddie didn’t particularly like being around other people who were smoking, but when Richie did it... god, he was beautiful.

“So... is prom everything you thought it would be?” Richie asked, breaking the comfortable silence that settled between them.

”Let’s see. All my friends getting drunk? Check. Half-assed decorations? Check. The same ten songs on constant repeat? Check. Yeah, pretty much.” Richie chuckled.

”Prom’s not for people like us, y’know?”

”People like us?”

”Losers.” Richie didn’t mean it as an insult, it was what they called themselves, but it hurt nonetheless. “It’s for the shiny crowd, the people with the perfect hair and the perfect grades. The kids that are going to be presidents and movie stars. We’re not shiny like that, Eddie.” And then Richie smiled, but it was almost sad. “But who needs diamonds when you’ve got steel? That’s you and me, Eds. We’re not the coolest or the most interesting, but we’re tough. And that’s cool too.” Eddie was quiet for a moment.

”I mean, diamonds are the strongest substance in the world, but-“

”You’re ruining my metaphor.”

”-but I get the point you’re making. And honestly, I have to say, that was kinda poetic for a boy whose nickname is Trashmouth.”

"Beep-beep, Eds." Eddie sighed.

"Yeah. I know. And you're right. But..." Richie's head perked up. "What if we could make it for people like us?" Richie narrowed his eyes.

"What the hell do you mean?" Eddie leaned over and whispered in Richie's ear so quietly Richie hardly caught it. "Are you serious?" Eddie nodded, his eyes wide with excitement.

"You in?" Richie considered for a moment, then dropped his cigarette on the ground and crushed it with his foot.

"Hell yeah. Let's do it."

Back in the gym, the music was once again pumping. Their friends had disappeared from the table, with no evidence that they'd been there except Mike's suit coat draped over the back of a chair and a pile of crumbs where Ben had been sitting. Richie and Eddie shared another look and burst out laughing.

"Come on! We gotta go!" Richie hissed, and took Eddie by the hand, pulling him for something like the fifth time along behind him. They ran through the gym, laughing like maniacs, their legs pumping like the end of the world, until Richie tripped and took Eddie down with him. They hit the floor hard, and Eddie felt the arm he'd broken once upon a time twinge underneath his body. He used his other arm to push himself up, and his heart stopped when he saw Henry Bowers bearing down on them, accompanied by two of his new goons (the old ones were either dead or had graduated- having been held back a year had not been good to Henry Bowers).

"Going somewhere, faggots?" He snickered loudly as Richie brushed himself off and got to his feet.

"Fuck off, Bowers. Just for one night." He offered a hand to Eddie, which he took gratefully.

"You going to find a place to fuck?" Richie's jaw clenched, but he held his tongue. Eddie was also grateful for that.

"Just leave us alone, would you?" Eddie pleaded, but Bowers ignored him.

"So is Wheezy your boyfriend now, Trashmouth?" They were loud now, and more and more people were turning to look at them. Not, unfortunately, any of the chaperones, who seemed more focused on people from literally having sex on the dance floor. "You suck his dick? Huh? Or is he more the submissive type?" Richie was growing angrier by the minute. Eddie wasn't sure he'd ever seen Richie more pissed off in his life.

"Shut your mouth, Bowers."

"Or what? Actually, maybe I should. I don't want you getting the wrong idea." Now he was right in Richie's face. "Some of us don't swing that way, Trashmouth. But I'll tell you what- I'll be quiet if your boyfriend here," he said, acknowledging Eddie for the first time, "admits that he's a queer." And that was when Richie punched Henry Bowers. They were in close quarters, so it wasn't a particularly good punch, but it shocked the hell out of Bowers so bad that he stumbled back a few steps, clutching his nose, which Richie had managed to make bleed.

"Oh, you're dead, Tozier. DEAD!" He screeched and lunged at Richie, nailing three rapid-fire hits to Richie's left cheekbone. His father's class ring, which he had taken after killing him, left deep cuts in the freckled skin of Richie's face. He had Richie by the collar now, and was winding up for an apocalyptic uppercut when Mrs. Davies, one of the chaperones and Eddie's new personal hero, took notice of the fight.

"Mr. Bowers!" She bellowed, storming towards the crowd that had gathered around them. "Unless you want to be held back again, you will put him down!" Henry looked back and forth between Mrs. Davies and Richie, whose bleeding face was already beginning to bruise. Finally, he released Richie with a sneer, shoving him to the ground and retreating out the front doors of the gym, trailed by his thugs.

"Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, holy-" Eddie knelt next to Richie and held his face in his hands. "Motherfucker. We gotta get you fixed up, and the next time I see Henry Bowers, I swear to god I'll-

"Shut the fuck up, Eddie. Let's get out of here." Richie got to his feet, and he and Eddie pushed through the people, ignoring the quizzical stares and curious glances their friends and strangers alike gave them.

The nurse's office was next door to the gym. Richie tried the door handle. Locked. He turned to leave, but Eddie stopped him, fumbling in his pocket for something.

"A-ha!" He exclaimed, and pulled out his key ring. He tried a couple different ones, to no avail. Finally, he found a key that fit in the lock and turned it. Richie heard the soft thunk of the lock sliding into place.

"You have your own key to the nurse's office?" Eddie shrugged.

"I get sick a lot. Eventually, the nurse just decided that I should be able to get in on my own so she wouldn't have to come every time I came in. Which was a lot. Also, my mom kinda demanded it."

"That checks out." Eddie hit the lights and Richie took a seat on one of the counters.

"So, what the hell was that about?" Eddie asked as he dug through the cabinets, collecting supplies.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, Bowers has basically called us queers every day for the last ten years. So why'd you pick today to punch him and get the hell beaten out of you?"

"Why? Do you think I shouldn't have?"

"I mean, it was very badass, I'll give you that. Up until the bit where he almost killed you."

"You're exaggerating, Eds."

"Don't call me that." Eddie sat down on the swiveling stool in front of Richie and poured some rubbing alcohol on a cotton ball. "This is gonna hurt." He dabbed gently at the series of cuts on Richie's cheek. Richie's knuckles went white as he clutched the counter, but he didn't so much as whimper. "I just don't get it."

"I don't know, Eddie, I'm drunk, he was being a douchebag, I decided to be a moron. Isn't that what always happens?" Eddie didn't respond as he pressed a few butterfly bandages onto the wound. "He went after you." Richie said softly.

"Huh?"

"He went after you. I was cool until he started picking on you."

"Richie, Henry Bowers has called me a queer and a faggot and every other name in the book almost every day since he learned those words. I don't get why that upset you so much."

"I mean, are... are you? Queer, I mean?" Eddie studied Richie silently. He was being serious, for sure, but Eddie had never been asked that question before. Not even by Bowers.

"Does it matter?" He asked after what seemed like hours. "Would you still be my friend?" Richie smiled, a different kind of smile than Eddie had ever seen. It wasn't sad, but it was sincere. And there was something else in it, something Eddie had only seen almost five years previous, in the way Ben had looked at Beverly.

"I'll never stop being your friend, Eddie." Richie's voice cracked, but his eyes were clear as he took Eddie's hand and squeezed, a gesture that was familiar among the group of friends that had become a family.

"Good." Eddie held up an towel filled with ice from the freezer. "Hold this on your face. It'll keep the swelling down." He hadn't, at any point, actually answered the question.

An hour later, the two of them returned to the gym. Bowers was gone, and most everyone had gone back to dancing like nothing had happened. Eddie noticed a few drops of Richie's- or maybe it was Henry's- blood on the gym floor. Their friends were sitting dejectedly around the table in the back corner, but they all sat up when they saw Richie and Eddie approaching.

"Are you okay?" Ben asked.

"Yeah, fine. What are you losers doing?" Richie was back to his usual self, Eddie noted.

"I mean, you getting the shit beaten out of yourself kind of dampened the mood," Stan said in his usual deadpan tone.

"Lame. I'm fine, guys." Still, Richie sat. Eddie took the seat next to him, and they all sat in gloomy silence.

"Excuse me! Excuse me!" Mrs. Davies's voice carried over the band, which went out with a jerk. Little by little, a silence settled over the assembled students. "I have here in my hand-" she gestured with a manila envelope covered in glitter, "-the results of your votes for prom queen and king!" A cheer went up, then the room was silent again. Mrs. Davies cleared her throat. "Your Derry High School prom king and queen are... Greta Keene..." Greta tossed her hair over her shoulder as she smiled and waved from the stage. Mrs. Davies placed a delicate plastic tiara on her head. "And..." she looked at the paper quizzically, but seemed to decide that it was legitimate. "...Bill Denbrough." It was so quiet in the room you could hear a pin drop. Literally. A pin dropped off Mrs. Davies's dress and it was fully audible. Then Ben started clapping, loudly and enthusiastically, his pudgy hands creating a sound that was almost deafening in the gym. And then Stan joined him, and Mike, and Richie, and Eddie. Ben rose hesitantly to his feet, but fueled by the cheers of his friends (and only his friends, everyone else stood in stunned silence), he approached the stage and allowed Mrs. Davies to place the crown haphazardly on his head. He smiled awkwardly for a moment, then jumped down and hurried back to where his friends were still cheering.

"What j-just happened?" He asked, more confused than anything.

"What do you mean?" Richie asked, and took a conspicuous sip of his drink. "Nothing happened. Eddie and I certainly didn't break into the ballot box and switch the votes." He and Eddie shared a furtive glance.

"Are you serious? Do you know how much trouble you could get in?" Stan asked, but he was grinning.

"Y-you guys are th-th-the best."

"No shit. Now, can we get back to dancing, please? I'm getting a little bored, and Mr. Prom King over here oughta show his face on the dance floor at least once."

The rest of the dance passed in a blur of moments so odd, Eddie thought maybe he'd dreamed them. Stan rode on top of Ben's shoulders and poured drinks into his mouth from nearly three feet away without spilling a drop. Richie stole Bill's crown and spoke in a cockney accent for several minutes. He and Mike ended up in the DJ booth, and Eddie had to say that he looked right at home. However, like all parties of its kind, it burned out around eleven, and the Losers said their goodbyes. Bill, being the only other sober person there, offered to take Stan, Mike, and Ben home, if Stan would let him sleep on his couch, which he would. That just left Eddie and Richie. Eddie felt oddly apprehensive about driving Richie home, although he'd done it a hundred times.

"You're really quiet," Richie said, about a minute in, his words not fully slurred, but still obvious that he was far from sober.

"Just tired." Eddie never moved his eyes from the road.

"Is this about what I asked you earlier? Because I was stupid and wasted and I think Bowers gave me brain damage."

"Don't joke about that."

"Look, don't worry about it, Eds."

"Don't call me that!"

"Fine, fine." Richie slumped down in his seat and pouted. "We did the right thing with Bill, right?" Eddie considered momentarily.

"Yeah, I think we did. I think we proved that it's not just shiny people who can have fun at prom."

"Huh?"

"Never mind." Eddie flipped on the radio. Richie sang along, even less in tune than he had been earlier.

"Workin' on our night moves... trying to lose the..." he trailed off as he forgot the words.

"Awkward teenage blues," Eddie finished, his voice high and clear.

"Yeah. That's it." Eddie pulled into Richie's driveway. The house was dark. "You know, your mom'll kill you if she finds out you got drunk." Richie didn't respond, and when Eddie turned to look at him, he leaned forward and kissed Eddie. It wasn't a good kiss. It was sloppy and drunk and Richie's lips tasted like smoke and booze and sweat. But even so, Eddie didn't break the kiss. He didn't lean into it, either, but he didn't move to stop it. "Uh... sorry." Richie wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "That was dumb." He cracked a smile, but Eddie just stared at him, dumbfounded. "Really fucking stupid."

"No." It took Eddie a moment to realize that it was himself that had spoken. "Not stupid."

"Not... stupid?"

"Well... maybe a little." Richie smiled for real now.

"I'll see you, Eddie." Richie unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the car door.

"Wait!" Eddie grabbed Richie's arm. "Do you... maybe... want to... dance?" Richie stared at him.

"Yeah. That sound nice." Eddie cranked the radio louder. It was Springsteen's "If I Should Fall Behind". Eddie took one of Richie's hands in his, and ever so softly placed the other one on Richie's shoulder. Richie's other hand slid around the small of his back. They swayed awkwardly in the headlights, their feet scuffling on the concrete of Richie's driveway, Bill's crown still glinting on Richie's head. When the song was finished, Eddie kissed Richie's cheek and got back in the car. He drove home and went to bed, and they never spoke of that night again. But years later, when Richie and Derry and senior prom were long forgotten, whenever Eddie heard Springsteen's voice singing that song, he felt a twinge in his arm that had been broken once upon a time, and he had a vague and blurry memory of a dance and a clear, starry sky.

[clearwillow]

White Day

A/N: Tohru Honda’s sweet personality from Fruits Basket is the way to describe Rin’s kind personality within this one shot. I hope you all enjoy this short story.

White Day By: @kimmigirl9

Valentine’s Day came and went in a blink of an eye. Now today was March 14th, also known as White Day. A day where men return the favor by gifting the girl a sweet treat in return. I wasn’t a man of sweets but I thought about making a sweet treat from scratch. But I forgot I’m not that handy in the kitchen. I would end up burning the treats instead. I just decided to go out and just buy a sweet treat instead. “Maybe chocolate covered strawberries?” Finding a gift for Rin wouldn’t be too hard. She wasn’t picky when it came to gifts. I could pick a single flower just from a branch of a tree and she would appreciate it very much.

Walking through the city I looked through the windows of shops near my townhome. Nothing called to me. Though the sweet gifts were white, they weren’t the exact white I was looking for. Instead of a sweet treat I decided to look at jewelry. I’ve never gifted Rin jewelry before, but I know she would love whatever I presented her. After I walked a few blocks I found the jewelry shop. Looking through the glass window the perfect shade of white caught my eye. The necklace was the perfect white. The silver chained held a plum blossom flower. “Rin’s scent.” The flower necklace was in fact what Rin’s scent was. I knew I had to buy this before anyone else did.

I walked inside and was greeted by the manager I believe. “Good morning to you sir. My name is Jakotsu, how may I be of assistance to you on this fine day?” His voice had a bit of a girly tone to it. He was dressed in a woman’s festival kimono and his hair was pulled back with a hairpin.

I pointed over my shoulder, “the plum blossom necklace in the window. I would like to purchase the piece.”

“Ah, such a fine piece I have to agree.” He went over and picked the necklace from the bust it rested on. “Would you like it gift wrapped?” He asked cheerfully.

“Yes, it’s a white day gift,” I said quickly.

The dude’s eyes lit up like fireworks. “You must have a special girl in your life.” I only nodded to him. He placed the necklace in its proper box and then wrapped it up in shiny white paper and gold ribbon. “Is there anything else I could be of service to you or will this be it?”

“Just the necklace, how much?” I asked as I pulled out my wallet from my back pocket.

He rang me up, “that will be ¥11,000 yen sir,” he said with a smirk. I handed him my gold card to pay for Rin’s gift. “Thank you sir. You have a marvelous day. I do hope the special girl of yours enjoys your gift.” I only nodded my head and left without another word to him.

I looked at the time on my phone and it was almost noon. “I’m supposed to meet Rin at the white day festival at the park.” Turning into a ball of white light I shot towards Ueno Park. She wanted to have a picnic to celebrate today. I wasn’t the one for picnics but I didn’t want to let her down and went along with it.

Arriving at the park the festival was in full swing. Couples young and old were scattered around enjoying the festivities with one another. Vendors lined up and down the walkway selling anything from marshmallow treats, to white chocolates, and jewelry. It’s a good thing I found Rin’s gift in town. I hope she likes it when I present it to her later.

The wind blew around me and I could pick up Rin’s sweet scent not too far off from where I was. “So she’s near the lake?” I veered around the couples and walked down the paved path for a few minutes. Looking to my right, there she was. Rin was dressed elegantly in a long white kimono dress. I never seen her look this beautiful before. She is usually dressed like a tomboy since she plays different sports. Seeing her dressed this magnificent I realized she has an amazing frame. The white fabric wrapped around her body like art. I never knew she had such a delicate figure. Her hair was pulled back and wrapped up tight with a hairpin keeping it in place. While I’m dressed in a quarter sleeve white button up shirt and denim blue jeans. My long silver hair was pulled back in a braided ponytail. I look more like a university student studying to be a lawyer with the black glasses I’m wearing.

I walked over to her as she had her back to me, “Rin?” I called to her softly.

My voice I guess startled her as she jumped a few feet. When she turned around her eyes lit up. “Sesshomaru, you startled me. How are you?” She asked softly and bowed before me. Lifting her head she gestured a hand to sit down on the blanket she had set up.

“The same as always. I may as well ask you the same.” I took a seat across from her as she sat on her knees.

“I am well, thank you for asking,” she smiled brightly. “Are you hungry? I made some fish cutlets and a few other delicious foods?” She pulled out a plate of fried fish, a bowl of mixed fruits, and a plate of raw vegetables. I have to say Rin has a green thumb when it comes to cooking. I nodded to her question and picked up a piece of fish. Bringing the cutlet to my mouth I could smell it was cod. She knows my favorite fish all too well. I took a medium sized bite and chewed it quickly. “Is it to yourself liking?” She asked happily.

“It’s good. It’s very fresh and the cod has a juicy taste,” I let her know. Her chocolate eyes lit up with enjoyment. “Are you going to eat?” She hasn’t picked up any piece of food yet.

“Oh! Yes, I just wanted to ask if you liked my cooking. You know I’m going to get my culinary degree and I need someone’s feedback.” She picked up a small piece of cutlet and took a small bite. “It’s so good. This definitely will be one of the foods I’ll make for my entrance exam.” I know she’ll do well. “After our lunch is there anything you would like to do or go see?” Her smile is what attracted me to her. Though we haven’t hadn’t our first kiss yet and we are technically dating, I just wasn’t ready.

“We can walk around the perimeter of the lake or the festival,” I let her know. Her eyes keep lighting up.

“That would be wonderful and I really appreciate that very much,” she said as she took another bite of the meal she made. Her lips were calling to me. I know I won’t be able to resist them much longer. She picked up a bowl of fruit which had mango, strawberries, and cherries in it. “Here have some fruit and also some veggies.” She picked up the plate of carrots and broccoli. I grabbed a small plate and put a few pieces of each food she held in front of me.

“Do you happen to have anything to drink?”

“Oh how rude of me.” She placed the food down and pulled two water bottles out. “I’m so sorry Sesshomaru. I was so excited for you to try my food that I forgot that I brought water for us.”

“It’s quite alright,” I let her know. She can be a bit of a ditz, but that’s what I like about her personality. “When do you take your exam for culinary school?”

“At the end of the month. I’m a bit nervous though. The school I’m trying to get into, well they expect high results. So since I’m planning the cod cutlets I want to create a sauce to put as a drizzle on top. So far ones I’ve made in the past don’t taste great with it,” she said softly.

“Why not try salsa? Possibly mango?” I hope these ideas brighten her day.

“Mango salsa?” She thought. “Oh wow that actually could work. Thank you Sesshomaru,” she bowed to me with gratitude. “When I make it, will you be my first tester?”

“Are you trying to make me your guinea pig?” I asked, giving her an awkward smile.

“Haha, maybe. Besides no one else, even my other friends wouldn’t try my food. So you were the only one I knew would.”

I couldn’t turn her down for that. “I’ll be your guinea pig.”

“Yay! Thank you. I promise this will be a meal you’ll love the most.”

0/0/0/0

Later after we cleaned up our lunch, we went and looked around the festival. The vendors tried to persuade us into buying their products. The items weren’t equally as special as the gift I’ll present Rin later. The perfumes burnt my nose that I had to pull us away from them. “I don’t blame you for wanting to get away from the perfume vendors Sesshomaru. The aroma is too strong for me,” she said softly. “I prefer aromas that are light with a hint of citrus.” I smiled very quickly at her words.

As we veered around everyone dark clouds started to cover the sky. “Looks like it’s going to get bad here soon. Come Rin, let’s get under a pavilion.” I took her hand without asking and I booked us under the closest one near us. I guess others had the same thought. “We’ll wait here till the storm passes.” The rain came down in sheets. Lots of people were getting soaked. It’s a good thing I got us under here fast because we both would have been soaked like everyone else. Plus with Rin’s white kimono, she would be totally exposed and I couldn’t let that happen.

“Okay, let’s take a seat,” she pointed towards the dirty tables. I can’t let Rin get her white kimono dirty. So instead I took a seat and pulled her over my lap. “Umm, Sesshomaru?” She had a look of confusion in her eyes.

“You’ll get your kimono dirty if you sit on the bench. We’ll move here soon.” I can tell the storm won’t last long. Maybe ten minutes at most.

“Okay. Is there anything you want to do later? I know they’re having a fireworks show tonight.” I looked at my phone again and it was almost two-thirty.

“It’s still quite a while till the show starts. We can go get a cup of tea after the storm passes.”

“Tea sounds lovely. Do you want to go to one of the cafes in town or here at the park?”

“In town.” I don’t care for vendors’ tea. They aren’t worth the money. Rin suddenly moved and rested her head against my shoulder. “Are you cold Rin?” I thought I felt a slight shiver from her.

“A little, but I’ll be okay. I enjoy the cool breeze. I’m sorry, I should have asked if it was okay to lay my head against you,” she said as she tried to sit up. I pulled her back against me and released my mokomoko. This would be the first time she would see my tail. I wrapped it around her, not daring to let her go. “Umm…is this alright?”

“It’s quite alright. My tail will keep you warm.”

Her delicate hand slithered through my fur which actually felt comforting. “Your tail is so fluffy and cozy Sesshomaru. Why have you never shown me your true side before?”

“I just never thought about it. Is it something you wish to see?” I’ve kind of debated several times to show her my true form. But fear struck me thinking she would run off.

“Yes, but only if you are comfortable with showing me,” her voice was very smooth when she said those words. “If not today, maybe sometime in the future?”

“We’ll see, for now let’s go and get some tea.” The rain finally came to an end and the clouds started to disperse. Retrieving my mokomoko we both got to our feet and walked out towards the city.

The cafe was right across the street from the park. Inside I ordered us simple jasmine tea. “It seems that all the seats are taken, Sesshomaru. Why don’t we just go for a walk? I know there’s a path in the park that goes a bit into the woods. I heard rumors of a meadow that’s very beautiful and filled with lots of flowers.”

I knew of the meadow she spoke of. “Sure,” without asking I took her hand and we left the cafe and headed for the path. It took us a bit to get through the crowds of people since it was getting a lot busier than it was earlier. But after a few minutes we finally made it under the arbor of trees within the woods.

“I love the smell of the forest after a rainstorm. What about you, Sesshomaru?” She asked as she took a sip of her hot tea.

“Only during the night when the moon is out,” I explained to her.

“I have to agree with you on that Sesshomaru. The way the moon shines on the glistening raindrops has a calming effect,” I didn’t respond. “I love to listen to music during and after the rain,” She said joyfully.

“What music would that be?” I’m kind of curious because I don’t know what she listens to.

“I’m the weird type when it comes to music. But…I love to listen to Frédéric Chopin’s ‘Raindrop’. There’s something about his pieces I love to fall asleep to.” So she’s into piano music?

“It doesn’t make you weird. I too listen to different composers of the piano. The music stimulates the brain in a good way. It helps me focus on studying.”

I guess my response enlightened her. “That’s amazing Sesshomaru. It makes me happy knowing someone else enjoys the same type of music as me.”

I wonder if she’ll let me play some Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata? I’ll ask her at a later date. We both remained quiet for quite some time. We both finished our teas and threw them away in a proper trash can tear the meadow. I could tell we were the only ones that would be there. It was quiet and calm. The only sound of people were back at the park. Since no one else was here, I was now debating to show Rin my true form. “Rin?” I said her name so softly.

“Yes Sesshomaru?” We were now in the middle of meadow. The sun was slowly setting behind the trees with just enough light for her to see my form.

“Would you like to see my form?” I asked quickly.

I looked to see not only her expression, but her response. “I would love to see your true form Sesshomaru. Do I need to stand back? Is right here fine?”

“Right here is fine. Just allow me to step back a few feet. But promise me one thing,” I said as I held up a finger.

Her eyes became like saucers, “what’s that?” She asked quickly.

“Please do not run off under any circumstances. My form will be ten times the size of the normal size dog.”

“I promise. I bet your form will be amazing. Just promise not to chase me, haha,” she said jokingly.

I only nodded and stepped back several feet. Clearing my mind, a white cool wind blew around me and I allowed my eyes to turn red. The markings along my face changed shape and soon my body changed from my human form to my true form. I went from a five and ten inches man to almost thirty-five feet tall.

I never took my eyes off of Rin. I could tell she was holding her breath and she must be a bit nervous. I lowered myself in front of her. But it would be nice if I could talk but it’s one thing I lack in my true form. “Sess…Sesshomaru?” I nodded my head to reassure that it was me. “Wow!” She carefully lifted her hand to the side of my muzzle. “So soft,” she whispered softly. “Is there anything else you can do in this form?”

“I wonder if she’ll allow me to take her on a flight?” I turned my body to the side. Hopefully she’ll understand why I did this.

“Do you want me to get on your back?” I could tell she was a bit hesitant. I nodded my head to her again. “Okay, I’m guessing I’m going to need to hold on tight?” She asked as she climbed up on my back. I could feel she was side saddling.

I nodded my head again and bounded into the air. I could feel her body heat against my back and her head hiding within my neck. I guess I should have explained myself better of what she was about to face. I stopped midway into the air and lightly purred that it was okay to look up.

It took her a few minutes before I felt Rin lift herself up. I heard her lightly gasp, “oh wow. The view is magnificent Sesshomaru.” I brought her high into the sky as she viewed the city we live in from a different perspective. “Sesshomaru why didn’t you tell me you could fly? You’re amazing and very well gifted with such power.” She laid down again and started rubbing the fur along my neck. “I wished you would’ve shown me much sooner. I want to get to know you more, Sesshomaru, each and every day we’re together.”

With those words I transferred back to my human form, grabbed her before she could fall, and pulled her around so I could hold her waist. “You’ll learn in due time. Before you can ask your next question as I can see in your eyes, yes I can fly in my human form.”

Her bright smile turned to laughter, “you can read me like an open book Sesshomaru. Oh!” Her hand went to her head and I could see the tight bun it was in earlier was now a mess. She pulled the hairpin out and allowed her raven hair to fall down past her waist. “Much better. That hairpin has been bothering me all day,” she laughably said.

“Hmm, ready to go back to the festival?” I asked her.

She smiled brightly, “yes.”

0/0/0/0

Nighttime came and the festival was in full swing. The same couples young and old gathered all around the park. The fireworks show would be starting soon and everyone was trying to get the best spot. Rin and myself found a perfect spot on an island in the middle of the lake. We set the picnic blanket back up and took our seats. I left her for a few minutes and flew back with new cups of hot tea. “Just in time Sesshomaru, they’ll be starting soon.” I handed her the jasmine tea she requested. “Thank you.”

We took our seats again and sat there in silence for a few moments when I remember the gift for Rin I still had in my pocket. Placing my cup down I pulled the white box with gold ribbon out. “Here Rin, this is my White Day gift for you. I hope you like it,” I said softly.

She smiled happily, “Sesshomaru you didn’t have to get me anything. You just being with me today was the best gift I could ask for.” She gently took the gift from me and opened it. When she opened the velvet blue box her eyes lit up. “Sess…Sesshomaru, this necklace is beautiful, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I wanted to see how it looked on her. “Lift your hair up,” I said as I pulled the necklace from its resting spot. She did as I told her and I wrapped the necklace around her delicate neck and clipped it into place.

She turned around to face me, “so…how does it look?”

Only one word described how it presented on her exposed neck, “perfect.”

Suddenly bright lights shot into the sky across the lake from us. Different colors of white, gold, silver and many other colors lit before us.

“The sky is so beautiful Sesshomaru, I have to say today has to be the best day for us.”

“Indeed,” the only thing that was beautiful was the girl next to me.

As we watched the show Rin turned to face me. Her hair blew with the light wind, “Sesshomaru I want to try something.”

“What would that be?”

She leaned in till her lips were several inches from mine, “allow me to be your first kiss.” I didn’t even respond back. I nodded my head as we slowly leaned into one another and parted our lips. When we contacted skin to skin heat built up between us. It was just as I imagined how our first kiss would be. Her arms wrapped around my neck and I cupped her cheek. I even wrapped my free arm around her waist. Her lips were warm and I could taste her scent of plum blossoms. Abruptly as our first kiss started, it ended. Rin pulled back just a bit, but rested her forehead against mine. “I love you Sesshomaru,” she finally said.

“As do I my dear Rin.” I took her lips to mine again, as we ignored the finale of the fireworks for the White Day festival.

[justjessame]

Not A Loser Anymore Chapter 2

Morgan felt pretty damn pissed that she hadn’t followed Clay when he left the bar. She stood looking up at the burnt remains of his hotel. Fuck, she’d spent months watching him and his fellow assholes. Watching to make sure something idiotic and news catching like a fucking hotel catching fire. Shit. Oh he had made absolutely good on his promise that his team were responsible, she groaned and walked back to her own small hotel.

Where would they end up next? She had to think that they wouldn’t stick around after something this massive happened. After all, if they were found faking their own deaths, then they’d be up shit creek without a paddle. She was always their paddle in shit creek. Keeping their lifeboat above the rushing water, until they truly needed her.

She sat down on the crappy bed that her hotel provided. At least there weren’t bugs, she thought, holding her head as she considered what had gone so horribly wrong that she was sitting in fucking Bolivia doing recon to keep her former team safe from themselves.

WEEKS BEFORE THE OP IN BOLIVIA

“Fuck you, Clay!” She’d screamed, slamming the door of his bedroom as she stomped out to the main living area of their base. She didn’t pay attention to the open mouthed stares that the rest of her team were giving her. She wasn’t aware that she’d left every piece of her clothing behind with Clay and was stalking to her own room in nothing but her bra and the briefest scrap of lace that could barely be called panties covering her.

Morgan hadn’t wanted to be unprofessional. She fought against ever repeating their first meeting. He was her superior officer. Her BOSS for fuck’s sake. She’d left the note, as impersonal as it could get, and scurried from her apartment the morning after simply because that wasn’t her. She was a fucking doctor and a professional. So waking up next to him, even if he was the best sex she’d ever had, was a nightmare. She would have blamed the booze, but she hadn’t felt that tipsy when she pushed him against the building steps away from the bar. She definitely wasn’t drunk when he slammed her against her front door and fucked her senseless. Or the multiple other times they came together that night. When the light of dawn woke her, she’d been pressed against his chest, his arms holding her tight, and his head pressed against hers.

It felt good, but it was wrong. Wrong, wrong, and dangerous to her career. She booked it after jotting down that fucking note. The note they just fought over, again. After another slip off the wagon that she was on trying to keep from fucking her boss. Again. And again. And again. Worst recovering addict ever.

And every single time after that first night, Clay had to remind her that she ran. That she didn’t trust what they felt enough to stay and talk to him. Usually he waited until they were naked and at least partially sated, but tonight he started as they were taking their clothes off. And ruined it by making her feel like an idiot. Reminding her early the reasons she had rushed out that first morning. Reminding her how wrong their screwing around was, and as it was, how wrong this whole fucking situation was for them. For the team. For him and for her.

She was clothed and packing when she heard a knock on her door. Fuming, but certain it wasn’t Clay she grunted her assent for her visitor to come in. It was Jensen. Tech geek, and sweetheart, even if he was the most awkward human on the planet. Shame really, because he was very attractive.

“Mo,” he started, seeing her bags being filled with her shit. “Come on, Mo, this too shall pass.”

She rolled her eyes and glared at him. “No, Jensen, it won’t. That’s the problem. It never passes, not for long.” Morgan sighed and tossed the last of her possessions in her duffle. Zipping it up, she sat down on her bed and tried to smile at the computer nerd with arms of a Greek god. “Look, I can’t stay, not anymore. Cougar is a great medic, you guys don’t need me.” She forced herself to stand. “I have to go, fuck this stress is worse than putting aloe on the burned ass of monkey.” Grabbing her duffle and suitcase, she walked to the door of her room. “Don’t worry, Jen, I’m sure I’ll see you again.” He leaned down and she kissed his cheek. “Tell the others bye for me, would you?” He nodded and she was gone.

A WEEK AFTER THE OP WENT WRONG

Morgan could still see the commanding officer coming to her door. She couldn’t understand why they came to her, until he told her that Clay had named her as his next of kin. The officer stood in front of her saying all the usual platitudes that came from informing someone their loved one was dead in the line of duty. Even if it was unsanctioned. Even if it was a fuck up of massive proportions.

She had stopped the man, just as he was telling her that she would be given the folded flag, “What did they find?”

“Ma’am?” The officer asked, trying to understand her question.

“Of the bodies, what was found?” She asked, watching the man’s face. He looked uncomfortable. “They did find bodies, didn’t they?”

“It was a helicopter crash of sorts, ma’am.” He looked down at his shiny boots. “There wasn’t much left of anything, they found the dog tags of the team.”

She nodded, feeling that Clay and the team weren't dead at all. And she’d make it her mission to find out just what the hell had happened.

It had taken months. Months of bureacratic red tape and calling in every favor she’d ever made over her years of saving lives, or at least saving the shame of some idiotic decisions. She struggled, and fought against giving up, but in the end it had paid off.

The OP was requested on the behest of some shadowy figure called “Max.” Morgan couldn’t find much to prove Max was a human, but clearly he had to be. It wasn’t a mission she’d known about when she left the team, so it had to be one that wasn’t given much planning, which didn’t sound like Clay at all. The man was an asshole, but he was careful with his people.

From what she could gather, it was supposed to be a simple in and out type of job. So why were so many people dead? And why did Clay take the team underground? Morgan had realized that she’d have to go to Bolivia. Finding out information on the ground would have to be easier than pulling teeth in the U.S.

Finding them was easier than she’d expected. She had set up her headquarters in a small rundown, but clean hotel on the edge of town. Walking down the main street the first night, and there he was. Dressed in that damn dark suit of his, with the white shirt gleaming against his tanned skin, she nearly tripped. He walked into the very dive bar she watched him in the night of the fire, and every night after.

She didn’t only focus on Clay, though she was itching to find out why he’d choose her of all people as next of kin. No, she found Jensen and Cougar working at a baby doll factory, of all places. Jensen was always easy to pick out of the crowd with his loud t-shirts that barely held together under the strain of his muscles. Cougar was also fairly simple to pick out of a crowd. Women flocked to the sniper who didn’t use many words. And eventually she’d seen Roque and Pooch, too.

Confirming they weren’t dead, she wondered about Pooch. His wife was due to have a baby, and soon. That had to make this self imposed “death” difficult on them both. She’d checked in on Jolene before making the trip. She found the pregnant woman as disbelieving as she was that they were dead. Her reason? Pooch’s wedding ring wasn’t with his dog tags. Why would he suddenly take it off the chain if he hadn’t been alive to keep it?

Morgan agreed with Jolene, and Jensen’s sister when she checked on her before leaving for Bolivia. Same story, with less proof and more of a feeling. Funny how only the women seemed to realize that the story didn’t mesh with the men they knew.

And so, Morgan kept watch. She knew her former team. Knew all of them well enough to know that one of them would fuck up, and she had hoped that she’d be able to swoop in and make sure the fuck up wouldn’t end up with them actually dying.

A WEEK AFTER THE HOTEL FIRE

Morgan was on her cell phone, rolling her eyes at the dickhead on the other end. “No, I don’t want to know about the endangered animals being smuggled into the United States. I’m sure it’s a terrible and horrifying situation, but what I TRULY need to know is whether there have been any strange shipments scheduled to come into the states that don’t seem ‘right’ to you.” She sighed, “Look Skippy, I’m sure that the plight of the average custom’s agent is just fucking the most stress a human could possibly experience, but if you don’t tell me what I want to know, the stress you’re feeling is going to be raised by one hundred percent.” She listened as he described the plane. The caskets. The number of caskets. Nodding, she jotted the information down on a napkin. “Well, thanks Skippy. I’m glad that we don’t have to meet face to face after all, but I promise, you and your team can expect a nice surprise for lunch.”

Guess I’m headed to Florida, Morgan sighed to herself. She’d been surprised when she learned that the team was coming back to the states. It wasn’t that difficult to get some information, but the U.S. isn’t exactly a shoebox, so she had to finagle more information, and Skip with US Customs was one of the tactics she had to use. Grabbing her duffle that she kept packed and lived out of, she was calling using it to find a flight as she rushed downstairs and into the open.

She hadn’t taken two steps before colliding with a wall of muscle. Damn it. Looking up she literally groaned out loud. “Roque.” She said, glaring up at Clay’s second in command. “What a pleasure.” She glanced down at her phone, locking the screen so he didn’t have a chance to see the flight information.

“You don’t sound surprised to see me,” Roque said, stepping back and crossing his arms across his chest. “In fact, you don’t seem shocked that I’m in this pissant town.”

Morgan bit her lip and looked up at him. “Did you guys really think that people who KNOW you would believe that a helicopter crash without the right number of bodies and just your dog tags left behind would be proof that you were dead?” She scoffed. “Pooch kept his wedding band. Jensen’s sister said the online view of the Petunia soccer games is showing someone watching faithfully from BOLIVIA of all fucking places. And Clay? He was dumb enough to name me his next of kin.” She unzipped her duffle and pulled out the folded flag and handed it to Roque. “I thought he’d like to have his flag.”

“Mo-” She shook her head, stopping him. He held the flag loosely in his hands. He knew that Clay and her relationship was complicated at best, and screwed from the beginning at worst, but this, her here?

“Look,” she said, another sigh and tipping her head back to look up at him. “I got used to keeping all of you in one piece. I had to make sure you were all alright. I-”

“Had to see him again for yourself.” Roque finished, pulling her into his arms. “Fuck, Clay and you, never quite understood it, but he shouldn’t have put this on your shoulders, Mo.”

She shrugged in his arms. “I wanted to be sure that all of you were safe. I know-” she stopped, giving up intel would suck, but she had to know their plans. Or at least something to keep her sanity about them staying safe. “I know you’re heading back to America. I know you won’t tell me anything, but-” She closed her eyes, pushing away the pain of not being with them, with HIM. “Tell me you’re going to be safe. Tell me that, and I’ll happily go back to my house. I’ll start up with the hospital that wants me so badly they can taste it, and I’ll move on.”

Roque’s arms stiffened around her. He heard her pain. The pain of being apart from Clay and from their ragtag group. Mostly, he thought, from being apart from Clay. He didn’t trust the new girl. He didn’t believe her story or her insistence about what she wanted. Clay could be completely fucking ridiculous, but this chick? She was going to bring them low. How could he promise Morgan that they’d be safe when he didn’t believe it himself. “I’ll promise that we’ll stick together, Mo. I’ll promise that I have their backs and they got mine. That’s all I can promise.”

She nodded and drew back. “Guess that’ll have to do, won’t it?” Her eyes were glassy and Roque realized he’d never seen Morgan cry. Pissed, screaming, and bossy he’d seen all that with her, but this? She was broken. He tried to hand her the flag, but she shook her head. “That’s Clay’s. Give it to him. Tell him goodbye.” He watched as she got in a waiting cab and drove away. He remembered the night she left them all behind. Remembered how it changed Clay. This? This was going to be the reckoning.

Clay looked up from the intel that Aisha had given them about the plan to be smuggled back to the states. He heard Roque walk in and was about to call him over when his second thumped a folded triangle of the stars and stripes down on the table in front of him. “What the fuck?” Clay asked, looking up at the glaring face of a man he’d count on anytime in his life.

“Mo thought you’d like your flag.” Roque growled, throwing himself into a chair nearby. He looked up at Clay’s startled face. “Don’t worry, she’s gone.” “Gone?” Clay was afraid to touch the carefully folded flag, afraid he’d smell her on the fabric. “She was here?”

Roque nodded. “She was checking on a feeling she had about us. Mo knew we weren’t dead, Clay.” He glared up at his commander. “She saw us, all of us. And she wanted to know why you named her next of kin.”

Clay closed his eyes and fought the pain in his chest at the memory. He’d completely forgotten about that. He’d changed it when she joined them. He knew she’d be the only person on Earth he’d trust with his body, living or dead. “Fuck.” He gritted through his teeth. “What else does she know?” He had to force himself to the task at hand. Killing Max, hopefully getting their lives back.

Roque shrugged. “Not much, that she’d tell me anyway.” He pulled out one of his knives and rolled it between his hands. “She wanted me to tell you ‘goodbye’. She said it was time to move on.”

“Move on?” Clay growled. “Move on? Is that a fucking joke? She’s the one who walked out on us, Roque. Her, not me. She walked out and told Jensen to tell us goodbye the last time. Morgan fucking Dean has walked out on me more times than I can fucking count. Move on, well fine let her fucking move on.” He pushed the flag out of his way and went back to the plan. “Aisha wants to have us unloaded here-” He was showing Roque the plan, but in his mind he was remembering that night. The last night he’d seen her in the flesh.

Morgan had worn a dress that would make any grown man fall to his knees. Then, as though she wasn’t a fucking walking wet dream already, she’d started stripping for him. Baring her shoulders, that fucking blue lily tattoo on her right shoulder blade shining against her pink skin, he’d watched mesmerized.

She got down to the wisp of lace she jokingly called panties, and a bra that barely held her breasts. And what had he done? He opened his fucking mouth and ruined it. Again.

“You aren’t gonna run away as soon as we’re done, are you?” He’d been teasing, that’s what he told himself, but he didn’t believe it anymore. He was harboring the pain of waking up in her bed that first morning with the stupid note. He watched the pain flit across her face at the reminder. A reminder he gave EVERY goddamn time she gave herself to him. EVERY fucking time, but this time they didn’t even get to the giving part.

She glared at him, hands on her hips and feet shoulder width apart. A soldier, through and through. “Every time, Clay, every time.” She shook her head as he tried to tease the stupidity of his own fucking mouth away. “You know what, Clay?” She started for his door, and turned back long enough to give him that heated look that could either ignite his fire or douse it. “FUCK YOU, CLAY!” She slammed the door behind her.

Clay had sat on his bed, back against the wall, waiting. Usually she’d force herself back, to have even more of a verbal match, but she never came. He fumed that she’d just walk away, again. She always walked away. Always. It wasn’t until morning, when Jensen gave him a sad, but terrified look that he knew. She was gone. This time she wouldn’t just walk back in and get back to work.

His team had looked at him like he was the biggest fucking loser of them all. And for a while, he had to agree. As the other men joined Roque and him at the table, he tried to convince himself that he didn’t agree with the feeling like he’d ruined something. That he hadn’t pushed her right out the door that she’d slammed. That it wasn’t his butthurt pride that ruined his last time with Morgan. That looking at the flag they’d given her upon his death didn’t pierce right through him. Because that flag meant what words and screaming matched never did. She was done. Finished with him. And he had to blink away the pain, because she was his medic and she wasn’t here anymore.

[vernonfielding]

I got hella homies

Story No. 29 of my Season 7 Countdown Project.

Summary: “Boyle says you brought Jocelyn to Shaw's last week.”

Jocelyn meets (most of) the Nine-Nine. Takes place before The Therapist. (Read on AO3.)

She notices Amy Santiago first, because Amy is standing at the bar wearing a full police uniform, and also, she has incredibly shiny hair, and Jocelyn’s always had a thing for brunettes.

Jocelyn pauses at the threshold of Shaw’s, eyes scanning from Amy to the booths that line the walls, until she finds the one loud group sprawled around a table toward the back. She squints, trying to identify Rosa, and that’s when someone slides up behind her and says, “Don’t move.”

Jocelyn bites her lip to keep from grinning. Rosa smells like fresh lemons and leather and just now, bourbon.

“Or what?”

A hand slips onto her hip and squeezes, and Rosa says, “Or you won’t get the first shower tomorrow morning.”

She gives Jocelyn a quick peck on the cheek, and Jocelyn lifts an eyebrow. “You should probably be careful about sneaking up behind people in a cop bar,” she says.

Rosa shrugs. “I just wanted a second alone before you meet everyone.”

“That’s sweet,” Jocelyn says. She knows Rosa will hate that, and sure enough, Rosa frowns and grimaces.

“C’mon,” she says, and tugs at Jocelyn’s hand.

Jocelyn had picked the right table, and she’s able to identify everyone else even before Rosa makes the introductions. Charles has an open, friendly face and kind eyes, and he’s wearing a tan button-down shirt and the dullest brown tie Jocelyn’s ever seen. Terry is massive and very handsome, but it’s the suspenders that give him away. Amy has re-joined the table and is sitting beside her husband. Jake is the last one she places, because she’s having trouble reconciling this man with the goofy grin and laughing eyes with the obsessed, sleep-deprived, manic detective Rosa described working with on a recent murder investigation. 

“Everyone, this is Jocelyn,” Rosa says. “Don’t be weird to her.”

“Hurtful,” Jake says, but he’s smiling, He has an arm slung around Amy’s shoulders, and he leans over the table and reaches toward Jocelyn to shake hands. “You have neat hair.”

“That was weird,” Rosa says.

+++

Jocelyn’s politics swing way left and she’s definitely never dated a cop before. But Rosa is confident and assertive and Jocelyn finds that extremely attractive, and to be honest, the fact that she carries a gun is weirdly hot. She is eagerly anticipating the day she finally gets to see Rosa in uniform.

She knows the past year hasn’t been easy, since Rosa came out to her parents. Jocelyn’s glad she did it -- to be honest, she doesn’t date people who aren’t out anymore. She gets why people stay closeted, she really does. But Jocelyn has been out since middle school and even at age 14 she knew that if someone couldn’t handle who she was, that person wasn’t worth the trouble. Now she’s 38, and she won’t be anyone’s secret.

So yeah, this feels good, squeezed into a booth at the back of a dingy cop bar with Rosa and her friends. Jake and Charles are shout-singing to Taylor Swift and Amy is pretending to be embarrassed but obviously loving it. Terry tells the table in general that he’s texting his wife that he’ll be home in time to put the twins to bed. And Rosa is definitely sitting closer to Jocelyn than she needs to, one hand on Jocelyn’s knee under the table.

+++

The invitation to join Rosa at Shaw’s came out of nowhere, which has been pretty standard. They’ve been dating a little over three months, and for most of that time Rosa’s been on the murder case with Jake, which means a lot of their dates have been spontaneous and pretty casual. (Rosa also has canceled a lot, which ordinarily would be a deal-breaker for Jocelyn, but Rosa did warn her that a detective’s life can be chaotic.)

Jocelyn got the text as she was leaving her frosting and highlighting class, the last of the day, and wondering if she should see if Rosa was free for dinner. She answered yes immediately and did a literal 180 to catch a train to Prospect Heights. Jocelyn has been dying to meet Rosa’s coworkers, who are clearly the most important people in her life given how much she talks about them. Which, honestly, isn’t a lot, but still about five times more than anyone else.

Still, she was a little afraid that the night would be all cop talk. But the Nine-Nine takes her by surprise. Ten minutes after she’s met them Charles has taken out a stack of actual printed photos of his son Nikolaj and is asking Jocelyn if she’s ever had Latvian beetroot soup, and then Terry has to show her photos (on his phone, like a normal person) of his daughters. After that Jocelyn can’t resist sharing a photo of her niece, who’s just eight months old and sadly lives on the other side of the country.

Then Amy asks her about cosmetology school and says that Jake is right, that her hair is neat.

“I’ve always wanted to try short hair but I’m afraid I don’t have the face for it,” Amy says.

“You should come by the school some time for a consultation,” Jocelyn says, tilting her head to imagine a look for Amy. “I could totally cut it for you.”

“No way!” Jake says firmly, mouth gone suddenly all pouty.

Jocelyn feels a punch of knee-jerk rage, that this guy would dare tell his wife what she can and can’t do with her hair. She opens her mouth, ready to lay into him.

And then Jake says, “You said I could cut your hair if you ever decided to go short!”

Amy rolls her eyes. “No, you are not allowed to cut my hair with the paper cutter at work. We’ve talked about this.”

“My wife is the worst,” Jake says in a whine. But he’s smiling and his eyes have gone all crinkly in the corners, and Amy tips her face up to his and kisses the corner of his mouth.

“Sorry, babe,” she says.

So Jocelyn decides that Jake and Amy are adorable and she wishes she could have been at their wedding, which Rosa said was the most romantic shit she’s ever seen, and that was after the bomb scare.

After a second round, Jocelyn asks if the captain ever joins them for drinks and Amy says, “I wish” in a dreamy sort of voice, and then she and Charles launch into a story about Holt single-handedly saving Shaw’s by drinking himself sick on Charbonnay. 

“Cabernet?” Jocelyn says.

“No,” Rosa says, looking like the very thought of that particular alcohol is going to give her a hangover. Jocelyn drops the subject.

“When do I get to meet him?” she says instead.

“Holt?” Rosa shrugs. “He’s not very social.”

“Are you kidding?” Charles calls out from Rosa’s other side. He leans over the table to address Jocelyn. “Captain Holt and Kevin love Rosa. I bet they’d have you over for Kevin’s famous white rice. I’m dying to try it but I’m not allowed in their home after last year’s tofu incident.”

Jocelyn has so many questions. “What’s the tofu-”

“Don’t ask,” Rosa says. “We should go.”

Everyone ends up leaving at once. Outside the bar, Charles gives Jocelyn a too-long hug, and Terry tells her he’s so glad they met and then seems to tear up a little and walks away in a hurry. Amy’s goodbye handshake is bone-crushing but her smile is genuine.

Jake pulls Jocelyn aside while Amy and Rosa are discussing a murder case and, improbably, blood-sniffing flies. He tells her in a hushed voice that he’s never seen Rosa happier in a relationship, and then he makes her swear to never tell Rosa he said that. (Jake also calls her Jackie, but he’s so friendly about it that she instantly forgives him.)

Rosa walks her home, and they hold hands and Jocelyn gushes about how great her coworkers are. “I wasn’t expecting to like a bunch of NYPD cops so much,” she says.

It’s dark out and Rosa is pretty inscrutable at all times anyway. But as they pass under a streetlamp, Jocelyn’s pretty sure she sees the smallest quirk of a smile.

“Yeah,” Rosa says, “they’re not bad, I guess.”

Jocelyn laughs. She recognizes high praise from her girlfriend when she hears it.

“Speaking of not bad,” Jocelyn says, and pauses, tugging at Rosa’s hand to make her stop too. She slips her arms around Rosa’s waist, and Rosa gives her another of those half-smiles and lifts a hand up to Jocelyn’s face. When they kiss, Rosa’s lips are full and soft and warm, and the slide of her tongue is electric. Jocelyn closes her eyes and hums a little, and Rosa strokes a thumb along her jawline, to the pulse point behind her ear. Her other hand curls around Jocelyn’s neck to pull her closer.

They’re both a little breathless when they break apart. Rosa’s eyes are so dark they’re almost black, but there’s a spark of something fond and joyful in them. She reaches up to brush aside the bangs that have slipped over Jocelyn’s forehead.

“They’re right,” she says, “your hair is neat.”

Jocelyn laughs out loud, and Rosa’s laughing too when they kiss again.

End Notes:

Title is from Feed the Beast (Bash Brothers).

Another massive thank you to @exploding-snapple, who put together a most amazing timeline of Season 6 without which I would have been totally lost trying to figure out the timing of this story. According to her timeline, Rosa and Jocelyn would have started dating around late December/early January of 2018-19. So by the time Jocelyn met everyone (in early April) they would have been dating about three months. (If that’s wrong for some reason, blame my math, not explodingsnapple’s timeline.)

Interestingly, much of their early dating would have taken place during The Crime Scene, which must have been intense, and perhaps influenced Jocelyn’s eventual frustration that Rosa consistently prioritizes her job over her girlfriend. (Canon is fun!)

I purposefully had Rosa sharing quite a bit of personal info about her coworkers with Jocelyn, which I realize runs counter to the Rosa we know. But my thinking is that Rosa really, really likes Jocelyn, and is maybe making an effort to be open with her. Plus, I think Rosa really loves her Nine-Nine family and would maybe want to talk about them, at this point in her life. Anyway, obviously that’s all open to interpretation.

[chibinightowl]

A Man Walks Into a Saloon

@charcoal-soul, your little head cinemas are going to be the death of me.  

For those who aren’t privy to these little headcanons, welcome to the Wild West where Bruce is the town Sheriff, Dick is his secret deputy who really has too much fun wearing a skirt, and Stephanie runs the local saloon. 

I could be persuaded to continue this. We’ll see.

~*~*~*~

Dick is a performer, through and through. It’s in his blood, is part of the very essence of who he is. But just because he’s on stage dancing his heart out in men’s burlesque show in front of a crowd of rowdy customers doesn’t mean he’s not paying attention to what’s going on around him. Bruce trained him better than that.

Not that anyone knows he’s a deputy for the wily sheriff. Much of his work here at Stephanie’s saloon is just that. Work. Bartending and running tables when he’s not on stage or rehearsing, but through it all, he keeps an eagle eye out for folks who just don’t look like they belong here. He’s gotten to a point where it’s practically a sixth sense.

And that sense is screaming at him as his blue gaze lands on the tall man who strides into the saloon and takes a seat at the bar. He looks road weary and dusty like most do in these parts, as does his companion, an equally tall woman with fiery locks barely contained in her long braid. Normally his attention would be on the redhead, especially since she’s dressed in men’s clothes rather than the divided riding skirt that’s more common in these parts, but Dick keeps going back to her dark-haired companion. There’s just something about him that sends a tingle down his spine.

This warrants further investigation.

But first, there’s a show to finish.

When he and the other men are done, they hop off stage and work the crowd. Or rather, Dick works the crowd while the others run off and change. While they’re all part of the entertainment, he’s the only one as comfortable in women’s clothing as he is men’s. And that means more tips and more attention for him. Dick has no problems playing both sides of the fence and Stephanie knows he’s more than capable of taking care of himself if someone gets too handsy.

One less thing for the saloon owner to worry about.

Dick slowly makes his way to the bar, stopping here and there as he does to chat. One woman even stopped him to ask where he found the rich blue silk that stands out so vibrantly against the black of his skirt.

“Had it special ordered from St. Louis,” he says, twirling around so she could see the full effect of it. “No offense to Mr. Pennyworth, but this just ain’t something he keeps in stock down at the general store.”

“It sure isn’t,” she agreed, her eyes lingering not only on the silk, but also on the ribbed corset in matching colors going up his waist.

Dick grins and winks at her as he walks off. The corset is strictly for show, as is the little bolero jacket he wears over it. His best friend Wally often teases him for how he looks in costumes like this, but to him, it’s all part of the act. Stephanie doesn’t care what he wears as long as it brings in customers, so he’s allowed free rein.

As he approaches the bar, he can’t help but like what he sees and wonders if maybe the shiver earlier was simply him picking up on the gorgeous hunk of a man sitting there. From behind, all he can see is broad shoulders, well muscled arms, and a solid trunk of a torso. The man’s jacket falls over the back of the barstool so Dick can’t make out the rest of the package, but so far, things look promising. Time for a closer inspection.

The stool on the man’s right is open, so Dick flops down with a flourish of silk and lace. “Hey, Steph! Got anything you’d think I like?” he calls out to the busy bartender/owner. The blonde woman knows better than to give him too much alcohol after a show (especially since he has another set in an hour) but dancing and flirting is thirsty work.

“Honey, you like it all,” she replies, dropping a pint of beer in front of him. “Try not to have too much fun in that new skirt of yours.” Steph winks and bustles off, her own purple and black striped dress looking fantastic on her. He’d ordered the silk for hers along with his own.

Dick salutes her with his glass. Turning, he looks at the two strangers and instantly, his heart starts beating harder. The woman is stunning, but the man…he can’t find words to describe him. His face looks like something out of one of Tim’s history books, the ones about Ancient Rome or Greece.

Time to turn his flirting up a notch.

“Hello, stranger,” Dick says with a saucy smile and runs a gloved hand over the smooth fabric of his skirt, outlining his thigh in the process. He picks up his beer and takes a sip, eyeing the man over the rim. The man is dressed for traveling, his dark brown leather jacket shiny with age. A dusty cowboy hat rests on the bar next to an empty shot glass and a mostly full glass of beer. “You must be new in town,” he offers with a wink. “I’d never forget a face like yours.”

The man honest to god blushes. Dick wants to crow in delight as red stains his cheeks.

“Yeah, Arty and I are just passin’ through.” The man replies as he tries for casual, even running an awkward hand through his black hair while his companion laughs boisterously. He’s young, probably around Dick’s age, but he’s got a white streak in his hair that’s rather eye-catching.

“Jay, I swear you always act like this whenever anyone hits on you.” The woman, Arty, slaps him hard on the shoulder. She catches Dick’s amused eyes. “Don’t let the blush fool you. He’s had his eye on you since we first walked in.”

Jay groans and gives Arty a good-natured shove. “Shut it.”

Dick laughs because this is just too much fun. “If it’s any consolation, I have too.” He takes another swig of beer and holds out his hand. “I’m Dick.”

The man accepts it and grips it firmly. “Jason, but I go by Jay more often than not.”

Dick reaches across Jason to shake Arty’s hand too. She also has a very firm grip. “Artemis. Only yahoos like Jay get away with Arty.”

“Noted. So, what brings you two into town?” Dick settles in for some small talk. He’s got the time but maybe if he plays his cards right, he won’t be crashing into an empty bed tonight. It’s rare that someone gets him this interested this fast, but hopefully Jason won’t be like the others.

He has a tendency to be attracted to the wrong type, usually with questionable appreciation for the law. Wally and Tim both joke about his poor taste, but Dick only has to remind them that they’re both single and to shut up, that at least he gets laid on occasion. Stephanie doesn’t run a brothel, no sirree, but she doesn’t care (much) what her employees do in their off time.

“Like I said, we’re just passin’ through,” Jason replies easily as he sips at his beer. “Wanna try and get to Colorado Springs before the end of the month. Heard tell there’s gonna be some hirin’ down there for some merchant trains and we could use the work.”

Before Dick can probe further, there’s a commotion over by the main entrance. Shouts ring out and Stephanie reaches under the bar for her shotgun.

“You assholes take it outside!” she shrieks loudly and pumps the shotgun for emphasis. “Now, before I blow someone’s hand off!”

Dick doesn’t even realize he’s stood and sits back down, but as he does, he catches sight of Jason lowering his jacket back over the gun on his belt. The stock on the revolver is inlaid with pearl. That’s an unusual sight and one that doesn’t exactly fit with the poor cowboy image the man is trying to portray.

Something isn’t right here.

He starts talking with Jason and Artemis again, casually flirting and enjoying the crap out of the blushes he gets from the other man. Soon enough, his hour is up and it’s time to get ready for his next show. As he stands, Dick runs a gloved hand over Jason’s lightly stubbled cheek. “Keep your eyes on me,” he whispers and leans in to plant a kiss where his hand just was. Jason looks startled, his deep blue eyes wide as he blushes again.

Artemis laughs raucously as Dick walks away, making sure to put an extra sway in his step.

Jason is seriously cute and Dick really wants to find out how far down his neck the man’s blush goes, but he’s still bothered by the sense that something is off about him. He’s halfway through the next set when he figures it out. Only years of performing keep him upright and in character.

The man sitting at the bar is the Red Hood.

Bruce had shown him the new wanted posters that arrived with this morning’s post. The sketch doesn’t do the man justice at all, especially since he always wears a red bandana over the lower half of his face and the brim of his black cowboy hat pulled low, but the sketch did mention his deep blue eyes.

Some additional information about him was passed along only to law enforcement, which Bruce shared with him as well. Like the pearl gripped revolver and the fact that his accomplice is suspected to be a woman. Dick remembers the poster for Artemis being even more vague as she wears a full wrap of faded red around her face and head, leaving only her eyes bare, probably to conceal her feminine features and that massive amount of red hair.

The pair are wanted in conjunction with over a dozen robberies in the last year. Almost no one is ever seriously hurt but one man was killed when he tried chasing after them. He’d been shot in the shoulder and the impact sent him flying off his horse where he then landed wrong and broke his neck. Accidental to be sure, but murder is murder.

Dick wants to groan in frustration as he kicks up his legs and dances around the stage. Why does this always happen to him? It’s like he’s one of those magnets that attracts trouble rather than iron shavings.

But he remembers Jason’s blush as he flirted with him and how sweet he is, even while telling Artemis off for ordering a third beer. This can’t be the same person that has a $500 reward for his capture.

Additional verification needs to be done first. After all, the sketches for the Red Hood Bandits are iffy at best.

It doesn’t take long for Dick to rejoin Jason and Artemis after his last performance. Stephanie drops off another beer for him, which he downs quickly. “Care to take a walk, Jay?” he asks with a wink. “I could use some fresh air.”

Artemis all but pushes Jason off his barstool. “You do too. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Jason curses and mutters something that Dick doesn’t quite catch, but has his companion laughing uproariously as she slaps his hat on his head and shoves him towards the door.

Outside, the night air is cool against Dick’s flushed skin and he welcomes the change in temperature as he and Jason stroll down the wooden sidewalk. Jason’s heavy boots jingle slightly as they walk from his spurs. He awkwardly holds out his arm for Dick, who can’t help but laugh lightly at him. “I am a guy, you know. I just wear women’s clothing because it’s fun.”

“Well, my ma beat it inta me ta always offer my arm to a lady and since the one I travel with never wears a skirt…” Jason’s lips quirk in amusement.

“I accept then,” Dick replies and takes his arm. The man is taller than him but not by much. Warm too, but in a good way.

They stroll for a little ways before Jason speaks up again. “Ya know, wanderin’ off with strange men may not be the smartest thing for someone like you ta be doin’.”

Dick waves off the warning. “Thanks, but I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”

“That so?” In the faint light from the moon, Dick catches a glint in Jason’s eyes.

Challenge accepted.

Before Jason can react, Dick has him firmly pressed against a wall, out of sight of the street and one of his secreted knives pressed lightly against his throat. “I grew up in a circus,” he breathes into the other man’s throat. “Learned a few other things besides how to put on makeup, kick up my heels, and look fabulous in a dress.”

“I see that,” Jason replies carefully, not moving in the slightest against Dick’s body, which he thinks is a crying shame. “So what now? You gonna rob me?”

Dicks smiles into the warm skin and presses his lips firmly against Jason’s fluttering pulse. “I can think of one thing I want to steal from you.”

“What’s that?”

“This.” Dick slides the knife back into his skirt and presses even more against Jason, capturing his lips in a heated kiss. The man gasps into it, startled, but then lets out one of the sweetest moans he has ever had the privilege to hear.

Oh, good lord. If Jason is the Red Hood, boy is Dick ever screwed.

[wasabi-duck]

bad boy jungkook

wow i can't believe i haven't done this au before

actually i can because i never do anything right

while reading this please listen to bad boy by cascada thank you

okay so jungkook isn't your usual bad boy stereotype

mostly because he's still pretty young

like most people think bad boys and they think motorcycle gangs

jungkook hasn't gotten his license yet

BUT he does have a keychain with skull (persona 5 skull uhhh) keychain and he thinks it makes him look cool

nah jungkook hangs with kids his age or a little older than him and they're known around town as being a group of wild ruffians

like picture this

jungkook had snake bites?? and an eyebrow piercing

his gauges are always in and he numerous other piercings in his ears including a helix

although young, he still has a few tattoos, to include a set of coordinates on his upper arm area (right below his elbow on the inside of his arm)

and then a butterfly behind his left ear

he keeps his hair black and parts it down the middle slightly (so imagine war of hormone hair my dudes)

he's always wearing his black ripped skinnies and if he's not it's because he's wearing boxers to bed

i looked up bad boys online and it's a bunch of generic white men who aren't even attractive so like that's not helping

jungkook wears a lot of band shirts and they're always a little too small so they can show off his muscles

sometimes he wears one of those basic leather jackets but not really because the one he wears is yoongi’s and it's way too small for him

he does have a bomber jacket, a black one, that he wears quite often though

his go to shoes are doc martens, the shiny black ones, or the matte maroon ones and he never changes that ever

rumor has it that he also carries one of those baseball bats around too and people say it's to break in windows and other juvenile delinquent activities

you've never met him yet though, despite being somewhat close in age

tbh you wonder if he's actually real because people do a whole lot of talking about him but is there proof??

you think not

he's probably like the town cryptid

which means that people wanna be him, find him, or-

anyway

you're at work one day when you first see him

you don't actually know it's him though

it's super late at night, as in like ten minutes to closing so you're not really expecting any customers

this kid comes in though, ripped as hell and you can't help but stare

because this kid has to be like twenty why is he in toys r us??

is he an uncle? a cousin? a dad? a child at heart?!

you don't know, and you find the whole situation fascinating, especially consider the piercings in his face and the chains hanging off his belt loop

but alas, you're only a cashier so you can't exactly pay attention to him when he wanders off into the numerous aisles

you almost wanna go up and tell him that toys r us is bankrupt and that he could probably get a better deal elsewhere like idk amazon

but you can't leave so you wait

it only has to be ten minutes and he comes back towards the front, holding this giant toon link doll in his arms

the thing has to be over a foot tall

this boy is just hugging it to his chest and he's smiling to himself and he's so cute?? he looks like an overgrown bunny??

you pray to god he comes to your register and guess what

he does

who saw that coming

as he approaches the register, he looks almost a little nervous ?

he doesn't make eye contact with you, and when you give your mandatory “hi, did you find everything you needed today?” he just give a curt nod

you shrug it off though because he's just a stranger that you'll probably never ever interact with again

but then he blurts out “you're not gonna tell anyone right?”

“i'm gonna do what now”

“it'll ruin my image”

“what image.”

his brows furrow

“am i supposed to know you”

jungkook doesn't know whether to be amused or somewhat offended

“you're kidding me right?” he rests his elbow on the counter right near the credit card swiper

you roll your eyes “uh no? i don't know who you are.”

jungkook leans in closer now, a smirk tugging at his lips

he's probably like five inches from your face now

“are you positive?”

you two are just staring at each other and it's so intense like he won't look away but it's almost like a challenge so you can't be the first to look away either and it's been like five seconds now

but then your manager comes over the loud speaker intercom thing?? “attention we will be closing in five minutes, again, please note we will be closing in five minutes”

you and jungkook both glance up at the ceiling, and then when you look down again, you find he's no longer staring at you

you're kind of disappointed and that freaks you out

you put his plushie into a bag, and hand it over to him “have a nice night.”

“wait-” he frowns. “you don't know who i am yet.”

“i don't think i will.” you giggle

jungkook blushes faintly at the sound of your laugh

“i'll come back in a week to buy happiness…” he grabs the bag, beginning to walk out the door. “tell me if you know then, okay?”

and with that, he's out the door

you blink, unsure of what to think at all

the next day, you describe the situation to one of the other cashiers

“wait wait wait-” he shakes his head. “did he have like… piercings under his lips and some tattoos?? probably had like… a simple plan shirt on?”

“actually it was linkin park but that sounds right.”

the other cashier just stares and you think maybe he's dying or something because he's not moving or speaking??

“that's jungkook.” he says slowly. his voice gets a louder, more excited. “oh my god you actually met jeon jungkook, oh my god-”

“wait you mean cryptid boy?!”

“uh i think?? he's just i dunno… the hottest guy on the face of this planet, how are you so lucky?!”

you shrug but you're blushing hard because he's right…

jungkook is seriously the most handsome person you've ever seen in your entire life and you hate to admit it but you can't stop thinking about him…

you wonder if he's really gonna come back just to see you

but you see him again before that

it's late at night again

not super late, probably eight thirty

you're walking home from work

your boss let you go home early because toys r us and their bankrupt asses don't wanna pay their workers for a full shift

you're walking home okay and you have a nice hot chocolate in your hands and it's cold and dark outside

you're almost home, just in the neighborhoods in your development

and you hear someone? someone familiar?

you stop, then stare because standing there, in front of someone's townhouse, halfway up a tree, is jungkook

he's wearing a black beanie this time and it's so nice on him

you might just die

but he also might die because he looks like he could possibly fall out of the tree

“hey jungkook, you should get down.” you call out. “you might fall and hurt yourself,”

jungkook turns around, obviously confused

he sees you and he waves, but then loses his balance and nearly falls down the trunk

you race over

“what are you doing?! is this even your house?! you're going to hurt yourself!!” you scold him

“i'm uh… doing stuff in this tree?”

“like what?”

“saving yoongi’s cat because yoongi is scared to climb the tree because one time jin fell out of one and broke his arm and now yoongi is scared but his cat is stuck and-”

“aren't you supposed to be a bad boy?” you shove your hands into your pockets. “do bad boys save cats and buy plushies?”

“okay first of all, rude, second of all, i am a bad boy and i do bad boy things, third of all… when'd you find out?”

“one of the guys at work gushed about you the next morning.”

“well i am pretty good-looking…”

you laugh and roll your eyes

jungkook sticks his tongue out at you

but then you’re both cut off by an annoyed meow, and jungkook turns just a little bit to show you a super super chubby scottish fold in his arms

slowly, he climbs down

“got ‘em.”

you coo, and run over to rub the top of the cat’s head

it purrs immediately and jungkook pouts because in his rescue attempt, the little demon scratched his face

and you notice that soon

“oh my god jungkook, you’re bleeding!!”

“it’s nothing.”

“it could get seriously infected!”

“bad boys don’t get infections”

you roll your eyes and pull a tissue from your drawstring work bag, then dab the wound gingerly

when you’re done with that, you grab a bandaid from the bag and press it to the cut

“you better get this checked out tomorrow,” you warn. “or it might get seriously infected.”

“if you kiss it better, i wouldn’t have to worry about that.”

“oh my god.”

but jungkook laughs, but then he asks your name, because you know him but he doesn’t know you, and that isn’t fair

and after you two bring the cat back to yoongi (who just looks between the two of you with a confused furrow of the brows)

jungkook offers to walk home with you

“should i let such a notorious bad boy know where i live?” you tease

“um… yes so i can come and throw rocks at your window and take you out to see the city at night sooner or later.” he answers quite bluntly and now you’re blushing heavily

“well okay then…”

it’s like nine at this point and it’s cold, and you shiver a bit and jungkook isn’t having it

he’s wearing the bomber that day, and without saying a word, he slips it off and drapes it over your shoulders

you blink, then stop in your tracks, looking up at him

he shrugs and shoves his hands into his pockets, avoiding eye-contact

he walks you home, and you two talk, a lot, about anything and everything that crosses your minds

and when you make it up to your front step, you’re reluctant to head inside

jungkook seems unwilling to go too, because he just stands there, with you on the porch

“hey… i’m off tomorrow, just drop by then.” you say slowly. “anytime.”

jungkook smiles brightly “cool, i will”

he turns on his heel, and you pull your keys from your bag, the both of you going your separate ways

you head inside, lock the door behind you, then head upstairs to your room

you sigh, sitting on your bed, thinking of how the night played out, and kind of wishing it hadn’t ended so soon

but then

there’s this faint knocking

at first you wonder if you’re hearing things, but then it starts happening more often, and there’s definitely something going on

you rush over to your window and lift the shades

to see jungkook there, throwing rocks at your window

you stare down at him, and then yank open the window “what are you doing!?”

“taking you out for the city night life tour duh.”

you put your hand over your mouth to hide your growing smile

you hurriedly race back downstairs, then lock the door as soon as you’re outside

jungkook smirks “someone was eager”

but he takes your hand (and you think it fits just perfect in his), and he starts talking about all the places he’s gonna have to show you, like the skate park with all of his really cute graffiti, and then seokjin’s restaurant which is open late, and then down to the park so he can show you where he accidentally broke some historic tree branch off from trying to swing on it--

and at every stop, he makes sure to take pictures of the two of you, for the memories

and then he asks for your number, so he can send them all to you…

and maybe just maybe he takes you this bridge overlooking a small pond in the park and the moon is reflecting on the water, and he loves it because it’s the perfect venue to kiss your pretty lips-

the end :’)

[fan-fantasies]

I’d Rather Look At You

Please enjoy some Bucky fluff- Heather @livingthefand0mlife

Warnings: Like one swear..also this is really long and probably sucks. 

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

You had moved to New York City in hopes of living your dream as a top notch journalist about a year ago now. However, you were stuck behind a desk all day writing about which Kardashian has the biggest ass. You were quite good at your job but it wasn’t fulfilling your dreams. And while you loved the fast pace of the city that never sleeps, it gets tiring and you miss home often. Back in your hometown things were so slow that you felt like you were stuck in time, and now you couldn;t keep your head on straight with how fast the world was moving around you.

One thing you could find solace in was the stars.

Sure the lights in the city didn’t make for the best stargazing possible but, armed with your telescope your mom sent you for your birthday, you made the most of what you had. You managed to sweet talk your landlord to giving you a key to the rooftop which provided a lovely view of the night sky. It was nothing compared to the clear nights at home, but it was enough to get you by. Each night you’d carry your telescope up to the roof with a blanket and settle in your favorite spot. Your building was tall but nothing was taller than the Avengers Tower. It often blocked your view but you didn’t complain. Another person not complaining about the tower was Bucky Barnes.

Bucky sat out on his balcony most nights looking up at the sky. Sometimes he would spend all night out there, chasing away the images that terrorized him when he closed his eyes. Sam noticed this after passing by his open door one night and saw him sitting on his balcony. The next night Bucky entered his room to find a telescope sitting on his bed, no note or anything to hint at who left it. He thought maybe Steve had dropped it off but he knew the answer the next morning when Sam was extra sarcastic with him, trying to hide the affection he harbored.

Night after night Bucky would find himself looking at the stars, searching for the constellations that were in season. One night he accidentally knocked his telescope down and his sight landed on something peculiar. At first, he thought maybe he caught his reflection in a shiny building but then he realized it was a rooftop and there was a woman using a telescope to look at him! He was shocked and felt like his privacy had been invaded when he saw you looking up at the tower. Surely you must’ve been spying on him!

You, however, were not even slightly aware that James Buchanan Barnes was now watching you. You heard that there was a meteor shower tonight and it just happened to be in the direction of the tower. You aimed your scope nearly right at the tower but it was enough to see the show. As it was getting later in the night the city seemed to darken a bit, even the tower had turned the lights off for the night. Something shining in the dark caught your eye. It was just a small flicker but it was enough to get your attention, You angled your telescope slightly lower and peered in. Much to your surprise, there was someone on the balcony of the tower looking back at you. You weren’t quite sure how to feel. You were shocked and also kind of creeped out, but also intrigued. What if one of the earth’s mightiest heroes was watching you? What if it was just some sleezy intern getting his rocks off by it? You were way too curious to just call it a night. You looked back again and saw the moonlight bouncing off of what could ony be described as a metal arm. It all clicked: the Winter Soldier was looking at you! You weren’t scared, just curious as to why he was watching you. 

The two of you stared at each other for what seemed like hours until you decided to do something. You pulled out your phone and turned the flash on and off a few times to signal him. A few moments later and you received the same flash pattern. Bucky didn’t know what made him respond but something inside of him was curious to see what would happen. It was getting late so you decided to go back inside before you’d lose enough sleep to make you a zombie at work the next morning. You flashed your phone to make sure he was looking then you waved. He waved back and you smiled to yourself. You fell asleep with the hope that this was just the beginning of whatever that just was. 

Your hopes were correct as the next few nights the metal armed man was on his balcony, ready to flash you (with his phone!). This carried on for a couple weeks. Sometimes he would be gone for a night, probably out saving the world, but you were there light clockwork, all until you got sick from spending time out in the chilly night air. Bucky was worried the first night you didn’t show, but he figured you fell asleep early or something like that. His worry increased over the next two nights that you were a no show. His friends could notice that something was wrong but they couldn’t figure out what it was. Missions had been nothing but successful and nothing else was really happening within their social circle. The only person who knew something, but said nothing, was Tony. Tony knew everything that happened in his tower so naturally he found out when a certain super soldier was flashing one of the neighbors. When he did some snooping and found out that this girl was not a threat, he decided it was best to just leave it alone, but when he noticed that Bucky wasn’t acting right, he decided he should say something. 

“Hey, Tin Man, got a minute?” He asked. Bucky looked at the clock and noticed that it was almost 9 and that he would be going to his balcony soon to see if the mystery lady would be there tonight. “Have a hot date with the telescope girl?” 

“What?” Bucky was mortified that someone had found out about his secret. He wasn’t ashamed of her or anything, more of himself for being so weird. A normal person would never have been watching her in the first place. 

“Look, I know you’ve been having this weird relationship with the telescope lady across the street. I noticed her a while back when she first moved in, I mean I thoguth she was a horrible spy and was trying to gather intel. Once I realized she wasn’t a threat and just wanted to watch the stars I started to turn off the lights. Tell aynone that and I’ll kill you. Anyway, I saw you were flashing her so I decided to do some more snooping and found out which apartment she lives in.”

“Tony, that’s so invasive!” Buck chewed his lip, curiosity eating away at him as he couldn’t take his eyes off of the slip in Tony’s hand. Tony raised an eyebrow at him and he snatched it from him .

“Y/N Y/L/N Apt. 4B” 

“I’m gonna go for a run,” Bucky said half-heartedly, walking right past Tony who had a small smirk on his face. Bucky did run; he ran across the street and over to your building. He stopped when he was on the second flight of stairs. What was he doing?! He couldn’t help but think this was some stalker shit and you would probably think that he had showed up to kill you. Maybe that’s why you stopped going to the roof; you found out who he was and what he had done and you were so scared that you stopped going up. Maybe your husband found out what you were doing and put a stop to it. So many scenarios were flashing through his head as he neared your floor. Nervousness ate away at him as he walked up toy our door. He knocked three times and waited. He could hear shuffling on the other side and the sliding of a chain lock. His breath was taken away when he finslaly got a good look at you. You were in your pjs and a fluffy white robe, your Y/H/C hair was up in a messy bun and you were looking up at him with wide eyes. 

“Hi,” he finally got out. He smiled, or at least he thought he was smiling, he couldn’t really feel his face. 

“Hi,” you sniffled. His heart began to race as he realized just how beautiful you were, even if you were sick. 

“If I had known you were sick I would’ve brought you some soup.” 

“How did you know where I live?” You asked. You were startled for two reasons; one being that he knew where you live, two being he was so handsome up close. Your face was flushed not only because of the cold, but because you were nervous around attractive men. 

“Um my friend Tony..Stark.. told me..” he stuttered. Maybe this was a bad idea after all, maybe he was being too creepy. 

“Oh um ok? Well I’ve been sick, which is why I haven’t been on the roof, which is why you’re here, I’m assuming,” you smiled hopefully. 

“Yes, actually, I was worried and wanted to make sure you were okay,” Bucky shifted uncomfortably, hoping he wasn’t overstepping. 

“That’s so sweet,” you smiled. His heart skipped a beat when he saw that smile light up your face. “Do you want to come in?”

“Sure,” he couldn’t contain the smile that broke out on his face. 

“I wish I wasn’t so sick so we could go look at the stars together,” you sighed. What came next was faint, but you knew you heard it even through your stuffy head. You heard Bucky whisper, 

“I think I’d rather look at you.”

[accio-infinity-stone]

Personalised Imagine #3 - Newt Scamander

Soooo here’s another personalised imagine. This one is for @omgunicornsarebae. I am so so sorry about how long this took to write. Thank you so much for requesting it and I hope you enjoy it.

If Newt had a sickle for every time his pesky niffler got him into trouble, he swore he’d be rich by now. The troublesome creature had gotten away after seeing a particularly shiny coin roll into an alley. Not just any alley. Knockturn Alley. Newt, of course, had to run after him despite all of his senses yelling at him not to go into the infamously dangerous street. He knew that if he wasn’t there to stop the beast, he would undoubtedly get himself into trouble.

Newt sprinted down the alley after the niffler, wand and case in hand and coat flapping behind him. He finally cornered the bothersome creature at the end of an alley.

“You have nowhere to go now, so just come here.” Newt said, calmly while inching closer. “You’ve got what you wanted, now go back into the case and I can fix this cursed lock so this won’t happen again.” The creature, unsurprisingly, refused to come. Newt huffed silently to himself while he crouched low so as not to look menacing and maintaining eye contact with the animal. The niffler, quite uniquely, responded quite well with constant eye contact. Newt prayed silently that the creature stayed as still as he was now, looking right at Newt and panting heavily.

Suddenly, a loud crash sounded from somewhere and the niffler took off again. Newt pursed his lips and dashed off after him. After a while of turning around steep corners and avoiding the grasping hands of shifty-looking strangers, Newt saw the niffler run into a dark shop. Stopping right before the entrance, Newt wondered whether this was a good idea. Which it most likely wasn’t, but he wasn’t going to leave one of his beasts in this godforsaken place to be sold for parts.

Taking a deep breath, he entered into the shop, finding it empty. There wasn’t even a counter for a cashier to stand behind, it was simply filled with mysterious looking artefacts. Perhaps this was some sort of galley? Trying to contain his curiosity, Newt kept his steps light on the creaky floorboards as his eyes searched the place. His gaze finally landed on the familiar glossy fur of the niffler. He was trying to lift something particularly shiny.

His shoulders slouching in relief, Newt walked over to the distracted creature. He picked him up from behind and pulled him away from the desired treasure, placing him back into the case after a strict reprimanding. Standing back up again, he took a closer look at what had attracted the niffler’s attention out of so many other options. It was a hand mirror.

As he looked at it more carefully, Newt noticed that it wasn’t particularly shiny, that it was just the reflection against the glass that made it seem so at first. It had quite a plain, wooden frame around the circular glass. He pondered over why it had caught the greedy little beast’s eye. Surely there were other, more jewel studded objects in the room. Newt went to hold the object, but the second he touched it a burning sensation covered his hand, making him yelp in pain. The feeling spread over his entire body, making him crumple to the ground.

Suddenly, the burning disappeared. Releasing a shaky breath, Newt rose with shaky hands. Only to find himself not in the same room as before. He was in a small room with dull blue stalls and strange half cup looking things attached to the walls which were all white. All of Newt’s instincts sharpened as he steadied his wildly beating heart. Has he been kidnapped perhaps? Wherever he was being held, he could get out, he would get out. Newt walked tentatively to the only door in the room, finding it to be open. Slowly creeping it open, he peeked his head out.

He was greeted with the sound of talking and laughter, mixed with the aroma of warm food and drinks. Frowning in confusion, he stepped out slowly, walking towards the sounds. He entered into a large room, filled with people sitting at tables or standing and talking. Some wearing witch and wizard fashion and some wearing what he could only assume was muggle fashion, though he had never seen any muggles wearing what the ones here wore.

No one seemed to take much notice of Newt as he wandered over to an empty table near the back. Everyone seemed to be waiting for something. Newt guessed that the mirror he had touched was some portkey that transported him here. Not that he knew where ‘here’ was. A loud voice suddenly called for silence and the chatter slowly dwindled.

There was an air of excitement as a large, round man behind the bar introduced someone called Y/N. Newt watched intently as you walked into the room, a loud cheer accompanying your entrance. Newt’s had to admit, you were quite attractive. He watched curiously as you climbed to stand on the bar, ukulele in hand and short, bright pink hair shining.

“Ladies and gentlemen! Witches and Wizards! I welcome you all to Harry Potter night!” You exclaimed, eyes sparkling with excitement behind your glasses. A cheer went through everyone in the bar. Newt furrowed his brows confusedly. Who was Harry Potter? “And as every night, we’ll start with a song. Tonight, the song will not be by me.” A series of boos echoed from the crowd. “Oh quiet down, it’s by Jon Cozart and I think you all know it.” You said, wiggling your eyebrows at the crowd. You strummed the first few notes on your ukulele and then the whole bar filled with song. Everyone knew it apparently.

“There once was a boy named Harry

destined to be a star.

His parents were killed by Voldemort,

who gave him a lightning scar…”

The song continued to describe someone named Harry Potter’s life with people called Ron, Hermione, Tom Riddle, Edward Cullen. Dumbledore was also mentioned, leading Newt to believe that perhaps this was a historic song, and if so, why hadn’t he learnt about it in Hogwarts?

For the rest of the night, Newt continued to sit at the back as he watched extraordinary moving pictures, listened to dramatic readings of books, watched as people took part in something called a ‘trivia night’. All these things seemed to be centred around this Harry Potter person. Newt assumed that this was some fictional tale as there was no way he could have not known about this if it was historically true.

Throughout all this, his attention seemed to be drawn to you. He found himself enjoying watching you interact with everyone, a smile constantly on your face. Everyone seemed to brighten when they talked to you, you seemed to be quite outgoing, funny and, quite frankly, adorable.

Newt couldn’t help but smile as he saw how much energy was in such a small body. You were a ball of brightness with your short, pink hair, shining eyes and the ability to make people laugh, if not through your words then through the many silly faces you tended to pull. He still had no idea where he was but Newt felt safe and calm in this space, even though he made no move to interact with anyone. The place seemed to have a welcoming aura.

After a few hours, people started to leave until it was just you, Newt, the bartender and a few other people scattered around at the tables. He suddenly felt his case shake and one of the locks snapped open.

“Oh no you don’t.” Newt muttered as he rested the case on his lap and closed the latch. When he looked back up you were standing before him.

“Wow,  you have a brilliant costume! You know, I told them to put on the Fantastic Beasts movie but there wasn’t enough time in the end.” You said, shaking your head. Newt frowned in confusion, opening his mouth to ask what you meant. “May I sit here?” You asked, gesturing to the seat across from him.

“Ah, yes, of course.” He said while looking down at the table. You slid into the seat and leaned forward, pushing your glasses up.

“Hi, I’m Y/N.” You said, sticking your hand out. Avoiding your gaze, he reached your hand and shook it.

“Newt Scamander.” He said. A smile grew on your face.

“Right, Newt.” You said, winking at him. Newt was unsure of why his name amused you so much. He decided to brush it off.

“Miss, what is this place?” Newt asked, looking right at you now. You cocked your head slightly.

“You don’t know?” You asked. Newt shook his head. “This is The Snuggly Duckling Bar. Yes, they named it after that bar from Tangled.” You said, rolling your eyes and shaking your head. “It’s a fandom bar. Well, I’m sure you could tell. What other bar shows Harry Potter movies, right?” You joked, smiling widely at him. He nodded, pretending to understand. Honestly, he was even more perplexed now. He was pretty sure everyone in the bar were wizards or at least had some knowledge or affiliation with the wizarding world. How else would everyone know about hogwarts, wands, specific spells, etc?

“Yes, well, could you please direct me to Knockturn Alley? Or preferably Diagon Alley?” He asked, making you laugh.

“I’ve never met a cosplayer so into their character. Do you even have some ‘fantastic beasts’ in there?” You said, putting air quotes around ‘fantastic beasts’ and pointing at his case. So many questions swarmed in his head. Where was he? How did you know about his beasts? Why weren’t you taking him seriously?

“I’m sorry, I think I’m lost.” He asked. You pushed your glasses up your nose, a habit you found yourself doing quite frequently.

“You don’t look lost, but if you say you are…” You said, shrugging. “I could help.” Newt looked up at you for a moment, smiling gratefully.

“Thank you. You, see, I’m not entirely sure where I am. My-ah-pet, got away and ran into Knockturn Alley-“ Newt began, not wanting to say outright that he had a niffler, he feared you’d ask how he’d come across one or if he had any other creatures that were technivally illegal to possess. “-he ran into a shop or a gallery of some kind and after getting him back, I touched one of the objects on display. It may have been a portkey of some kind as I found myself here a moment later.”

“Wow, that is quite a story.” You said. Newt nodded, blushing slightly. He couldn’t help but feel flustered as you watched him curiously.  “Are you really lost?”

“I’m afraid so.” He said. “If you are unsure of the direction of Diagon Alley, may you point me to your nearest lodging?” He asked. You shook your head, making your pink hair bounce around. The corners of Newt’s lips quirked up slightly at the sight.

“Oh no, you’re not staying in any motel. They’re all crap here.” You said, taking a deep breath. “Against my better judgement, you can stay with me for the night. Or until we figure out how to get you back home.” Newt was hesitant at the thought of staying at a stranger’s home, but he was in no place to reject kindness. He was a skilled wizard so if it turned out you were against him, he was confident enough in his abilities that he could get out of the situation. Although he doubted you meant him harm. Where else would he go? It would only be for a night and then he’d be off. Newt gave you a wide smile.

“I would really appreciate that, thank you.” He said, looking at you in the eyes.

“You’re not a murderer, are you?” You asked, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Ah- no, I’m afraid I’m not.” He said, smiling amusedly at you. You nodded.

“Just in case you get any funny ideas, I’m sleeping with the door locked and a knife under my pillow.” You said, pointing a warning finger at him.

“I’ll remember that.” He said. “Thank you so much for doing this for me.”

“Well, I can’t exactly say no to you when you’re looking so much like Newt Scamander.” You said. Newt was unsure of what you meant but decided not to comment on it. You were, after all, doing him a great favour. “Right, do you want to go now?” You asked. Newt simply nodded as he stood up. You now had to crane your head to look up at him. “Why is everyone always taller than me.” You mumbled under your breath as you walked through the bar. Newt laughed at your comment.

[twruniversity-blog]

Accepted America!

...Guess we’re not going to have to pay for air conditioning anymore.

Try not to freeze your roommate. Vita isn’t going to want to fill out the paperwork.

OOC;

Name: Realm Age: Under 18 Pronouns: Any! Activity: 3 Contact: its-altin-or-altout (tumblr) marching-man (other tumblr) Ships for Muse: I ship Alfred with common sense. 👌 RusAme FiteTP B) and er. Yea. Common sense. (Germany,South Italy South Korea, Prussia, France– those could be options. Maybe Spain or Ned or Belgium or Belarus or… ;) I’m open to trying most lol) I shy away from UsUk and AmeCan, gomen. Timezone: GMT-8 Triggers/Sensitive Subjects: None Any Concerns?: lol my activity apologies in advance

IC;

Character: America Full Name / Preferred Name: Alfred Finnegan Jones Age: 18 Birthday: July 4 Gender: Male Pronouns: he/him Housing: Toutouwai Village- Shared (pls give this boi a roommate he will die without one) Pets: none

IC - In Depth;

[ Trigger Warning: Abandonment Issues ]

Magical Branches: Fire & Ice

Ahurei (Unique Ability): Ice Mimicry- Alfred’s ahurei is something he prefers to keep under wraps as he hasn’t quite learned to control it. It’s something like the Hulk except instead of turning into an angry, green guy he turns into a living blizzard. Think ice golem combined with Elsa levels of suppression, and bam, there’s Alfred.

Major/s: Law, Aerospace Engineering Minor/s: Fire, Political Science Type of Degree: Bachelor’s

Clubs: Science Society, Politics Society, Engineering, Dueling, Science Fiction Films, Football, Tennis

Appearance:

Muscular and tall at 6’0” Alfred is a well built, attractive young man. He’s well aware of the fact that he can turn heads, and he’s practically the definition of a poster boy. His hair is typically neat sans the stubborn cowlick that sticks up to the side no matter what he does. Its golden blonde color only adds to his magazine cover appearance, and frankly, the cowlick only serves to enhance his appearance by giving him an almost endearing look. His eyes are a clear blue, and he wears black framed glasses over them during all waking hours. His skin tone is nearly always a perfect tan, and his smile is blindingly white.

Alfred has dimples on both sides, and he can almost always be found smiling, the edges of his eyes crinkling up. His facial features are nicely set, darker eyebrows and straight nose. His face is surprisingly thin though he’ll adamantly deny this if it’s ever mentioned. His jaw isn’t as square as one might expect. Instead it tends to come to a sharper point. His jaw line definitely still defined. It just isn’t as square as he’d like to think.

Alfred is fairly built, all broad shoulders and defined muscle. His body shape is something like a ‘V’, muscular chest and narrow hips. Around his middle he does still have some baby fat, but don’t let it fool you. He’s stronger than he looks, and this boy looks strong. His choice of attire consists of various superhero, video game and meme t-shirts with shorts or jeans and some sort of sweatshirt if it’s chilly out. He actually can dress up nicely if he wants to, and he knows how to pick out things that match. It’s just that usually he prefers to be lazy. In fact, if it was up to him he’d walk around wearing nothing, but, of course, that’s illegal, and Alfred doesn’t particularly fancy getting arrested anytime soon.

Headcanons:

He hates being alone. Due to an unfortunate incident that occurred when he was younger Alfred represses ahurei. Because of this when he’s not in the same room, or at least fairly close, to where other people are, he’ll begin to go cold. It tends to cause frost to form around him and the temperature of the air surrounding him to dip. It’s essentially his body’s way of releasing all the energy he bottles up by refusing to use his ahurei. Part of the reason why this happens consistently when he’s alone is because his insecurities tend to push themselves to the forefront of his mind without any people around to distract him as well as the subconscious sense that it’s mostly safe to let go without other people nearby.

He’s a total adrenaline junkie. He needs new, exciting thing 24/7 because his attention span (unless he’s scheming) is smaller than a pea.

He’s got some lowkey abandonment issues. Just lowkey.

Alfred can actually cook fairly well. He knows how to whip up a good ol’ southern meal as well as some nicer things. His dad and his aunt and uncle taught him how. Though be forewarned, the things he likes to combine in food tend to be questionable.

He can play guitar.

Aliens are a thing. Don’t tell him otherwise. He will fight you.

Personality:

Alfred would say the best word to describe him would be heroic. Truthfully he might say loud. Others might tell you he’s a meme or ridiculous or insensitive. In reality it might be bold or clever or resilient, but in the end there’s really only one way to sum up everything in a single word, and that word would have to be eccentric. Alfred isn’t your typical guy with a hero complex larger than the empire state building and a very strange set of priorities. He’s defiant, independent, extremely opinionated, analytical, brave even– but Alfred has somewhat questionable morals and a mouth that tends to run for longer than it should.

While he is always for establishing justice he does find interesting ways to go about it. It’s extremely likely he’ll take anything that goes astray into his own hands. He seems to think that he can do anything, and the list of things he won’t do to fix an issue is a small one. He’s a quick thinker and probably lowkey ADHD. He’ll have a plan set up for things he deems necessary to be accomplished, but appear to be goofing off as per usual. It’s always hard to tell whether or not he really meant something or not, or if he cares or not, but Alfred usually does.

He’s a little hyperactive and slightly controlling, but he does mean well. He loves people, and while he does have a bad habit of pointing out every little thing he notices with little regard for other people’s feelings, he does care for his friends. His shiny ‘hero’ act might be something he does believe in, but he is fairly sensitive, and he is a thoughtful person. He tries to do his best when it comes to understanding people, but he has a bad habit of assuming everyone else is like him, and while he himself will go around insulting people, whether intentionally or unintentionally, to hear someone he cares about demean him is one of the worst things for his mental state.

Abandonment issues might be something that come into play, making him prone to being clingy and overly affectionate. He’s already a needy guy, but because of the side effects of suppressing his ahurei he must be around people at all times. Alfred is a little too loud, a little too presumptuous, but he’s bright, he smiles, and he really does want the best for his loved ones.

Strengths: Determined, Sociable, Affectionate, Well Intentioned, Natural Leader

Weaknesses: Impatient, Presumptuous, Insensitive, Defiant, Controlling

Backstory:

Alfred grew up in New York City born to an actress and physics professor. His father was a soft spoken, good natured man, always considerate, always caring. He doted on Alfred endlessly, taking him for donuts on a weekly basis, bringing him to his office, taking him to museums, buying him superhero capes and playing with face paint. He did everything he could for his son while he desperately tried his hardest to conceal his attempts at saving his marriage with Alfred’s mother from the young boy.

For the first few years everything had been happy and perfect. His mother was a beautiful, charismatic, vivacious woman. She was rich, gorgeous– When she met the quiet, mouse of a man Alfred’s father was she practically swept him off his feet, dragging him with her wherever she went. So yes, there was a time when they were happy with their baby boy, nice home, lovely jobs, but as life so often shows perfection never lasts. It wasn’t long after Alfred’s birth that tensions started to rise, and Alfred’s mother changed.

She went from the lively, generous woman she had been to a cynical, violent alcoholic prone to outbursts and harsh words. Alfred never found out exactly why she became like this because when he asked his father he’d just smile tiredly and apologize because he didn’t know. If he did and didn’t want to say Alfred never found out, and of course, his mother would never say. His parents split when he was six, and his father gained full custody.

His father became even more reserved, but for Alfred there was always a smile, a hug, an outpouring of praise and hair ruffles. Sometimes Alfred wondered why his mother had left, but eventually he accepted it. It was when he became twelve and puberty hit that his ahurei began to develop into something far more powerful than just a boy sized flurry of snowflakes. Spikes in emotions brought on by the influx of hormones triggered episodes where he’d lose control. The harder he tried to hide it the worse it got.

Eventually the inevitable occurred when he was around the age of fourteen. When awoken from a nightmare by his father, he lost control, spinning into full blizzard and freezing him and the room. When everything settled his father was long gone, the bedroom a disaster and the glass in the window shattered. He was devastated.

His mother took him in, and while she never hit him she was inclined to scream and tear him apart with her words. Alfred found comfort in his friends, and for the most part, managed to block out the nightmares that happened every couple months at home. He didn’t see much of her for the year he lived with her. She left, telling Alfred he was a burden, and it had been a mistake to even try to keep him around, that he’d never amount to anything. He hasn’t seen her in person since.

So when he was fifteen he moved again to live with his aunt and uncle in Georgia. They were kind to him, and he was happy again after recovering from the initial shock. Though it wasn’t long before he decided he needed to leave before another accident could occur. He found Te Wānanga Ruānuku and hopes to find a home and a community of people who might be able to help him and hide his power from the rest of the world.

Sample RP:

Absentmindedly, Alfred drummed his fingers against the counter in time to the music flowing into his ears from his headphones. The other patrons of the cafe threw glances in his direction, seeming irritated by his ceaseless tapping, but he was oblivious, appearing engrossed in whatever webpage he had pulled up on his laptop and the upbeat tunes in his ears. Either that, or he just didn’t care which Alfred would’ve agreed with as likely option had someone suggested it. He simply didn’t have time to deal with people like them. There were other things on his mind, and much more important matters to be dealt with. Like Space. Always space.

The vast expanses of the heavens had always held a certain intrigue for Alfred. There was something about the swirling galaxies, the pinpricks of light painting pictures in the sky, the planets, and all the rest of the celestial bodies that appeared at night, that drew him in. The thought that there might be someone else up there, that there might be hope for more adventure, for more change, was intoxicating. Alfred had known from the start that this was where his heart was. He was meant to fly. He knew he wasn’t just meant to touch the heavens. They were his home.

So that might have been why he chose to major in it. It might’ve been why he was reading an article on the latest discovery in his field. Maybe it might’ve even explained the reason why the normally hyperactive boy could sit on a grassy knoll, just watching the starry spread, without making a sound for hours on end back when he’d been small. He knew there was a reason the stars were there, and he would find it. He just needed a little more time, but soon, it would be soon. He’d find it soon. If he didn’t he knew it wouldn’t be long before everything crumbled to pieces. At least that was one thing Alfred was sure of. He needed that escape.

[dat-town]

Under the same stars || chapter 2

Characters: Park Jimin & OC (Xu Xianni)

Setting: Winter Olympics, figure skater!Jimin AU

Genre: 90% fluff 10% angst

Summary: A story about Olympics, first love and rules that are meant to be broken.

Words: 7832

Chapters: 1, 2, 3  (the end)

Breaking rule no.2

Day 4 - 13th February

 I feel like I’m walking on eggshells and the house of cards can crumble in any minute but it’s so fun going against rules. A few minutes after midnight, my usual curfew we arrive back at the apartment building and say goodbyes to each other. The elevator gets emptier by every floor and by the time we arrive at the fourth, it’s only me and Jimin. When the doors automatically open and I make a move to get out, but he gently takes a hold of my wrist to keep me by his side.

“Are you sleepy?” he asks concern shown lightly in his voice.

“No,” I shake my head while looking at him because it’s true: I’m wide awake. Electricity is building up in my veins.

“Can I show you something?”

I simply nod and he presses the R button after dropping his hand back to his side. His touch’s ghost still lingers on my skin and suddenly I’m cold despite the multiple layers of clothes on me. It’s quiet while we go up, the air is filled with something I can’t put my fingers on. Not to mention that I feel my heart bouncing erratically as soon as we step out to the rooftop and I catch a glimpse of the night scenery of Gangneung.

“Wow,” I utter a sigh in awe staring at the midnight blue sea in the distance. Dozens of shiny lights lie under the mountains. Even though I know they’re windows of houses it looks like the stars came down to earth and they’re dusting the valley with celestial grace. Like a red carpet made of stars leading to the water. The pale moonlight reflects on the snow providing spotlight and it feels like magic.

“I like high places. Whenever I feel uneasy I go to the top of a building,” Jimin admits breaking the silence with his melodious voice while he walks to where I stand and his gaze wanders at the map of constellations. I turn to him and shiver briefly as my arm brushes against his side.

“So tomorrow… oh, today is your big day, huh?” I correct myself upon realizing how late (or early depending on how you look at it) it is.

“Yeah, the short program,” he smiles faintly and looks down at me suddenly that catches me off guard. There’s no way he didn’t noticed me staring at him so I shyly bit on my lower lip. The cold wintery wind creeps under my skin and I shake a little. Jimin seems to catch sight of my silent suffering and shrugs off his own puffy coat. “Here take this,” he offers and covers my shoulders with his warmth.

“But what about you?” I furrows my eyebrows in worry. Under the upper layer he wears a turtleneck sweater that doesn’t seem enough in the chilly weather. I feel selfish but at the same time it feels good to have someone who cares about me earnestly. I bit on my tongue to hide my secret smile.

“I have a good immune system. I’m used to winters in Korea.”

“Thank you,” I murmur gratefully and bury my face deeply into the soft material as I pull it tighter around me. As I look at him, a part of me dares to hope that Jimin’s cheeks aren’t rosy-coloured just because of the cold and this time it’s me who shatters the glass armour of silence. “Are you nervous?”

“It would be a lie to say no,” Jimin admits almost vulnerable yet the corners of his mouth turn upward. “No matter how many times I performance before judges, the adrenalin is always the same. I can’t imagine anything else I’d rather do.”

Just how I feel. Whenever it’s hard and I’m stressed about it so much that I’m considering quitting, I realize that it’s my choice to be here and I want to do it as long as I can. I’m not doing it for fame or money, but because I enjoy the kiss of excitement every time I’m on ice. Thanks to a stroke of luck and hard work I’m fairly good in it, too.

“Do you have a goal today?” I ask curiously because I like to set a goal for myself, a score that I’d be satisfied with even if others are better than me.

“Nothing specific. I just want to run a good routine. I’m my own biggest competition but it’s good to have someone like Yuzuru to keep me going. Last time he beat me to it, so now I’m here to get the gold. And you?”

I let out a sigh as I lean against the edge of the rooftop. The sight of above still makes me speechless.

“I’m happy if I even place, this is my first Olympics after all.”

Of course, I’d like to be the best but I’m not that ambitious like my mother. I’m aware that there are dozens of talented skaters in the adult category even after Kim Yuna’s retirement. I’ve met them at various Championships and being my country’s number one, it doesn’t mean I can beat their experience.

Jimin hums sympathetically. It occurs me that maybe he knows how it feels.

“I was eighteen when I first entered the Olympics in Sochi. I don’t why I’m more nervous now that it’s in Korea this year,” he lets out a laugh lightly and slightly fidgety. After a quick calculation I come to the conclusion that he’s twenty-two now, three years older than me. Not that it matters concerning our life-style and nationalities. Even if there would be a chance, any chance for… something, age wouldn’t be the biggest problem.

“Doesn’t your family come to watch your performance?” I guess on instinct because it’s likely that their presence would make him nervous.

“Yeah, they do. Even Jihyun, he skips school for this.”

The way Jimin talks about this family with shining eyes I can tell how happy he’s that they come. His face lights up while he replies. Jihyun must be his younger brother he mentioned earlier. He must hold him close to his heart to think of him so dearly. If his entire family is so nice like him, I’d like to meet them one day.

“And what about you?” Jimin turns to me in a blink of an eye and I’m at loss of my words.

“Me?” I point to my chest in question because I don’t get the sudden change of topic.

“Yeah. Will you be there to cheer for me?” he leans forward still keeping an arm on the barrier. Yet, he’s so close that I can feel his minty breath on my face. So close that I don’t see anything but his pitch black, star-like eyes in which I could get lost. If I ever did that, please don’t bother to find me.

“Maybe,” I whisper with a sassy smile on my flushed face and I can’t look away. I want to make sure that despite my uncertain answer he knows he can take it as a yes. As he steps back with a pleased expression, I’ve no doubt about it: mission complete.

There’s a minute of silence while we’re watching the never sleeping sea and the darkening city above us. A part of me wishes we could stay like this forever: seeing everything but invisible for others. Especially, my mother.

“We should head back. It’s late,” Jimin speaks at last and we slowly descend to the 4th floor because he insists on escorting me to my room.

“Good night and good luck today,” I say barely above a whisper when we arrived in front of the door and I play with the hem of my too big sweater after handing him back his coat. The elegant skater just grins at me and I feel like melting.

“Sweet dream, Xianni.”

Oh, and sweet they are!

 I’m bouncing on my feet as soon as I wake up. My roommate has already left when my alarm wakes me up. Because of the men’s competition we can’t use the Ice Arena for the time being so there’s no routine practice for two days. I revise my choreography again and again, have a yoga lesson and check my training schedule for the week with mom. I arrange it so that my evenings are free and I can watch Jimin perform. Of course, I can’t tell this my mom because she won’t like it but I try to make it the least obvious:

“I can learn from men skaters as well, can’t I?” I plead with big doe eyes and despite the suspicion in her eyes, she’s going along with my plan. That’s how I end up fair and square in the athlete’s viewing area that night just before the competition starts.

They announce the competitors one by one and each short program is unique and stunning yet I can’t hear the names, I don’t care about the points until the emcee doesn’t call that one particular athlete whom I came for.

“Next up Jimin Park, representing South Korea, performing Showdown.”

I’m tapping my feet in excitement and bring my hands in fist to my mouth like those crossed-eyed, lovesick anime girls. I just hope it prevents me from screaming his name but the crowd has already gone crazy for him. I guess that’s natural if you’re native.

It starts with nerve-wrecking formalities while the announcer lists his records and Jimin does a warm-up round in silence and then finally, the music plays. The rhythm is quite upbeat but Jimin follows is precisely and gracefully. His elegant style attracts all eyes on him and once you’re under his spell, you can’t escape. At least, I can’t take my eyes off of him.

He has tight black trousers on with a silver striped v-neck shirt. It looks expensive, made of silk and the broad fabric hangs on him loosely. The dark colours compliments his skin tone and natural hair colour while it contrasts the white ice. He gives off an unearthly vibe like he was a young Greek hero escaping his millennium year long imprisonment. A god among humans. His whole show is so enchanting it can’t be described with words. His balance is rattling good, his movements are sharp and his technique is unquestionably brilliant, I can tell even from this distance. But most importantly, he draws people in. It’s not just ice skating, not just dancing, it’s a whole new level of art.

A part of me feels like crying when it ends because it’s too soon and I’m not ready to let this go. The camera shows a close-up of Jimin’s beaming smile and my heart swells with pride because he had nothing to worry about. He nailed it and I hope the judges think so too.

After finishing his routine, Jimin goes straight to the kiss and cry area where skaters have to wait for the points. Lee Taemin is with him patting his back and holding a water bottle for him but the younger refuses a little out of breath. As he prays with his palms pressed together I do the same and I glance back to forth between the screen and the judges’ panel.

“Jimin Park’s showed a flawless short program without mistake. Even his quadruple jump was perfect and he could move along with the high tempo song. As I see, we have the results! Oh, he has good points. The technical and component scores add up... 101.34!” The announcer exclaims loudly and audience claps in delight. I join in happily and I almost can’t hear the rest from the ‘Park. Ji. Min.’ chanting. “Now it’s the third best on the highest scores of all time for a short program according to International Skating Union. With this point, he’s leading for the time being but we still have his biggest rivals, Yuzuru Hanyu and Alexei Bychenko coming up.”

Jimin, who is in the place doomed to kissing or crying, looks on the verge of disbelief until his coach shakes and embraces him in a big hug. I get up while still clapping to get a better view. I’d like to get closer to the backstage to congratulate him but my steps halt soon. There’s already a huge crowd gathering around the leaving athlete: reporters, team members and so on, but I’m sure he hurries to his family and I wouldn’t want to be in the way.

I’ll congratulate him later.

 Day 5 - 14th February

Next day, it’s no news that Jimin won first place in the short program followed closely by the Japanese skater. I just can’t shut up about how perfect his performance was to my roommate and I can tell she’s had enough of me already.

Jimin’s probably busy with preparing for his free skating program and I don’t want to disturb or distract him so I keep myself busy too. Mom is impressed how enthusiastic I am all of a sudden. Don’t get me wrong, I’m always keen on practising and improving but before the Olympic season mom had her hopes high and demanded a lot more than I was capable of giving. But seeing Jimin doing absolute magic on ice made me feel like nothing is impossible.

Since I still can’t go to the arena where today’s competitors are practising, I get on a bus with mom and my routines’ choreographer to visit the closest city with an ice rink and I practice among children. It’s a different and fun experience and watching the kids play around makes my mother mood brighten up a little too. At the end, one of the skating instructors asks me in English after he struggled with Chinese to show something to his students and I gladly do so. The kids are so eager to learn and they’re rambling cheerfully in Korean after I finish. I don’t understand a word but their gleeful smiles tell me enough and I can’t say no when they ask for my autograph. They’re so cute.

After going back to Gangneung, eating and showering, it’s almost time for the free skating round to start. I almost race to the arena to save me a great spot in the first row but the VIP viewing area is seriously loaded with people. I’m seriously lost until I hear someone calling my name. My head snap to the soft voice’s direction.

“Hi. Jin, right?” I greet the blondish brown haired, broad shouldered guy as soon as I finally make my way through the packed place. The curling team member, if I remember correctly, is seated at one of the top benches but it gives a good view.

“Yes, hello Xianni. Did you come to watch Jimin?” Seokjin smiles at me curiously and pats the empty seat next to him when I nod. I sit down shyly and the guy grants me a pleased grin. “He’ll be happy. He’s talking about you non-stop.”

At that, I feel flush creeping up on my neck. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Jin nods and pretends to be mad but the crinkles around his eyes betray him. “He whines like a child every chance he gets about not being able to text you. It’s cute but annoying.”

“Oh.”

I’m pretty sure my face could compete against heaters at this rate. I feel like burning almost if I was coming down with something. I hope it’s not the case because that would be a huge trouble. But on the other hand… which one is worse? Getting physically sick days before the competition or catching feelings for a practically stranger I’ve only known for less than a week?

“Do you have any messenger app? I can give you his ID,” the elder Korean guy offers and even though my brain keeps telling me to refuse politely, I can’t help but add Jimin to my contracts. That will do, I try to convince myself as I thank Jin bashfully. I have no idea what else to say but Fortuna and the announcer save me from any further embarrassment.

“Second day of men’s ice skating is coming right up. After yesterday’s short program performances Park and Hanyu are shoulder to shoulder to win. If nothing extraordinary happens the long program is going to decide the gold’s fate between these two.”

It’s stressful to watch the amazing shows each competitor puts on and just wait anxiously for Jimin to show up. Thanks to the success of yesterday’s performance, he’ll be the one to close the show right after his biggest opponents. I have to admit that Hanyu is an equally skilled skater and he runs a flawless routine. His high score secures his place on the podium and Jimin needs to achieve more than 210 points to win the gold. The pressure must be heavy on his shoulders but Korea’s representative sets foot on the ice confidently.

“Lastly, Jimin Park, representing South Korea, performing his long program, Lie.”

The emcee’s voice echoes in the arena and everyone waits in silence as the slim figure takes his place in the middle of the rink. This time, he wears coal black jeans with a tight dress shirt in the same colour and a vest with golden patterns. He legit looks like a prince from a manga and I’m already enchanted.

One heartbeat later the music starts. The song is a slow, sensual ballad. I have never heard it before but from the way Jimin moves as if he’s possessed, someone who’s ready to die on stage, it makes my heart ache in the best way possible. My mouth dries just by looking at him and I don’t dare to look away in fear of missing something. The seconds go by too quickly and I can feel my heart beating so hard and loudly it might deafen me. Then at some point of the routine the music quiets down, takes a short break but I guess it must be the bridge part in the song because Jimin also slows down and takes out a red scarf under his vest like a magician. It’s a little unusual to use a prompt while skating but before I can question what he’s doing, he shocks the whole audience.

“Am I seeing it right?” The emcee asks in a hysterical voice. “Is he going to put on that scarf as a blindfold? He is! First in the history of Olympics ever Jimin Park is going to perform with his eyes blinded!”

The crowd goes nuts and roars. Jimin has already put on the red blindfold and continue skating naturally. Just by looking at it, the sight makes my insides flapped. Oh my god, I can’t even imagine performing with such a noise around me in pitch darkness. Everyone stares at him in awe while he gracefully spins and jumps as if the blindfold didn’t make any difference. The free program’s four and half minute passes like moments and then there’s him in the middle of the rink taking off the scarf and bowing with a satisfied lazy smirk on his face.

I haven’t even realised I held back my breath until I release it. I can still feel my erratic heartbeat drumming in my ears as I clap and watch him retreat to the kiss and cry area where his coach hugs him tightly and they both laugh.

“Oh... that kid. I’ll kill him. He nearly gave me a heart-attack,” Jin sighs beside me but I can tell he’s just as proud as me.

When the results are finally shown after the torturous waiting I don’t know if I scream or just jump off my seat but I don’t even care. I can’t because even with two minus deduction points that he got for his balance problems towards the end, he still he did it! He got 218.76 points which means his combined score is 320.1, higher than any other contestants’ score. That means gold and nothing compares to his face in disbelief when he realises this. Suddenly everyone, athletes and staff members around him, congratulate him while he has tears in his eyes and a toothy grin plastered on his face. Yet, the most heart-warming moment that’s caught on camera is Jimin hugging Yuzuru backstage and they pat on each other’s shoulders like friends. Even though he didn’t break Hanyu’s world record he’s flooded by reporters as soon as he steps out of the VIP area.

No matter how much I’d like to congratulate him face to face I know now is not the time and I’m okay with that. It’s his time to shine after all. So I settle with a simple but direct message with heartfelt words and cute stickers: CONGRATULATIONS! You totally deserved it! I’m still speechless.

Two hours later when I’m ready to go to bed (surprisingly early compared to the last days), my phone vibrates. The screen displays a series of short messages:

Thank you \o/

Will you meet me?

On the rooftop at midnight?

And let’s be honest: who could say no to that?

 Day 6 - 15th February

After changing into something more presentable than my pyjamas, I’ve waited restlessly for the agreed time to come. So when the clock hits midnight, I’m on my feet right away. This time the cold doesn’t faze me because I learned from my previous mistake and have multiple layers on.

When I arrive at our meeting place, Jimin is already there leaning over the fence in casual clothes and a training coat. I take a moment to appreciate his stunning looks while he isn’t aware of me watching. His skin glows under the moonlight and his side profile has dangerously cutting edges from this angle. I wonder how a simple smile can transform this royal appearance into a soft boyish one. What’s more: how can he look so effortlessly good in a puffy winter jacket when every time I wear something similar I feel chubby and self-conscious?

“Congratulations, Mr. Gold. How does it feel?” I step out of the shadows and the door slams shut behind me with a click. The nickname rolls off my tongue mindlessly but Jimin doesn’t seem to mind. Joy is radiating on his face when he turns to me and my legs turn to jelly with every step I take closer to him.

“I still can’t believe it. It will be hard to top this next time,” he chuckles without taking his eyes off of me and I can’t find it in me to look away. I think I’m becoming such a sucker for his eye smile because every single time I see it, my heart does this weird little thing with rapid thump, thump, thump.

I gulp visibly and shove him on the shoulder to wipe away that characteristic grin from his face. “Are you insane? A blindfold? What kind of idea was that?”

The heaven’s bells tinkle when Jimin laughs light-heartedly.

“Well, it’s kind of a funny story,” he admits while his fingers are thrumming on the cold brick barrier. “I’ve done this routine hundreds of times and I jokingly said once that I could probably do it with my eyes closed. Then Taemin made a deal with me to treat me to a feast with lots of meat if I can actually do it. So I did. I lost my balance and I made a lot of mistakes at my first try but he still treated me and said that we could make history.”

“Still, that was dangerous.”

Jimin’s glossy jet black eyes shine mischievously.

“Were you worried about me?” he asks playfully and I scrunch my nose.

“Maybe.”

We don’t talk much, we don’t need to. He takes a breather between two hectic days and I’m just here beside him. His presence is more than enough.

“You’ve had a long day and there’s one ahead of you as well. You should sleep,” I suggest half-heartedly after prolonged minutes. I don’t want to leave our secret little place but we both need rest. Especially him.

“Yeah, probably. I have tons of interviews today and we’re celebrating with my family before they head back home.”

“Then have a good time!” I say it earnestly without any grunge. It’s natural that he can’t spend the day with me. We rarely saw each other in the past days but we are merely acquaintances made in the sea of Olympics. Our time together is limited anyway.

“Thanks. And you…” Jimin looks at me fondly, mirroring stars in his pupils. For a second, I think he has something to tell me but it’s gone too quickly with a twitch of lips. “Take care!”

“I will.”

And I do as I promised when my training is set back to its original tough schedule from that morning. I have to work harder from now on since the ladies’ short program is only 4 days away.

 Day 7 - 16th February

 It becomes a habit without settling anything concret.

We can’t see each other during the day because of our schedules but we meet up at midnight. Next day, Jimin comes prepares: he brings two folding chairs and blankets so we can talk while comfortably lying down.

“First, I was into dancing. I liked the rhythm and moving to it. They said I had talent for it but then I saw figure skating on a television program and fell in love with it.”

From the way he talks about it anybody could tell that Park Jimin is really passionate about his profession. Like it’s not just a job that he chose but something more special that chose him. As if it was written in the stars.

“Ice skating isn’t a popular sport where I grew up but I really wanted to do it and my parents supported me from the beginning. I was sixteen when I met Taemin and he immediately took me under his wings. When his competitive skating career ended, he became my coach.”

Listening to his struggles and breakdowns when he wanted to quit makes me realise that he’s not a prodigy like everyone makes him to be after his last performance. He’s a human who worked really hard for this. He’s just like any of us but he sacrifices even more time and effort to make it work. He just did it but he isn’t satisfied, he still wants to aim higher. I find this kind of attitude admirable.

“Gangneung actually reminds me of my hometown except the snow,” he suddenly blurts out and I have the urge to ask:

“Where are you from?”

I know I can easily ask around or search it up online but that feels immoral. I want to get to know him in person since I’m lucky enough to have the chance. I enjoy listening to his stories no matter what they are about.

“Busan. It’s a city by the ocean.”

“It must be beautiful.”

I live far from any beach; I rarely have the chance to see one. Maybe that’s why I love Gangneung. The salty water and the melody of waves are part of the city’s peculiar atmosphere.

“It is. Especially in summer when the sun sets,” Jimin agrees quickly and I can tell he has a strong liking for his hometown. His description makes me crave sparkling, warm summers and Korean, sandy beaches.

“I’ll make sure to go there for vacation one day.”

“I will wait for you,” he says carelessly yet so confidently without missing a beat that a blush paints my cheeks pink while his are dimpled.

His words echo in my ears the whole day.

 Day 8 - 17th February

The days blur in my mind as the count-down starts. Two days have never felt so short before. Yet, I’d never give up on Jimin's company… until I eventually have to. It’s after one of our midnight stargazing meet-ups when he walks me to my room like the gentleman he is. However, this time despite the quiet hallway, it’s not empty. My mother stands in front of my door mindlessly scrolling on her phone, obviously waiting for something… or someone. Most probably me. I gulp nervously, quickly turning on my heels, pulling Jimin back to the elevator with me and I push a random number on the button plate.

“Mom is there,” I explain hastily, with my breath caught in my throat and I feel like a coward teenager hiding from the parents after the first drunk night.

“Why is she up so late?” Jimin wonders with his mouth agape and his tone is regretful. I sincerely hope he doesn’t blame himself for anything. If I got myself in trouble, he has nothing to do with it. Although he’s the reason why I smile.

“I guess she came to check up on me,” I shrug while the lump forming in my throat is ready to choke me and my heart aches as if someone was clutching it in their fists.

“Oh… I can speak with her. Tell her that it was my idea and...”

There’s a line between Jimin’s eyebrows and he’s so freaking cute when he’s thinking hard about something with that frown on his face. But my favourite feature about him right now is the genuine worry swimming in his deep ocean eyes. His caring side makes me weak.

“No!” I protest way too quickly and feverishly but I really don’t think that it will work. Even if he’s taking the blame for staying up late, I still have to face the consequences of hanging out with a boy, none other than the Korean team’s new star. “I’ll have to do it alone.”

“Are you sure? ‘Cause I can...” Jimin doesn’t seem convinced and he’s tapping his foot like he can’t stand still but I nod confidently.

“I’m sure. Thank you, though.”

A grateful smile sprays on my face as the elevator pings when we arrive at the ground floor. The door opens and closes but neither of us moves an inch. Eventually, Jimin’s eyes soften and his sniff shoulders go lax.

“I hope you won't get in trouble,” he presses the number four and I can only pray Me, too. It doesn't take more than a minute and we’re back on my floor. The point of no return. Secretly I still hope that mom left in the meantime but to be realistic I know what’ll come. I deserve the punishment whatever it may be since I broke the curfew and kept secrets behind her back.

“Hey,” Jimin half-whispers and keeps on tug at the hem of my sweater. My gaze drops on him and his pleading eyes. “Text me, ok?”

“Okay,” I nod without giving it much thought. It's almost scary how ordinary it became: texting him right away when something happens may it be good or bad.

The last thing I see before that metal door closes is a reassuring smile that feels like a calming gel on my itching, sunburnt skin or a medicinal cream on my invisible wounds scratched by my own stupidity. He’s the healing potion to my heart pains. But without him the weight on my shoulders is almost too much.

“Hi mom,” I approach the comfortable clothed woman and keep my gaze on the floor. I don’t dare to look up in fear of seeing her disappointment.

Some sort of shame rushes over me because I became exactly that kind of girl I’ve never wanted to be. Someone who changes because of a boy. Someone who chooses a stranger over her own family. Still, regret wasn’t on the list of the trillion emotions playing inside of me right now. Jimin never forced me into anything, he helped me spreading my wings and finding out what freedom tastes like. Without him, the Winter Olympics would be just another competition with endless practices, heavy stress and the thrill of performing.

“Did you have fun at least?” mother speaks up after a pang of silence and she sounds genuinely interested. Her sarcasm only bit into me when my gaze snaps up to her in a dumbfounded manner. “With that boy again?”

“It’s not like that mom...” I shake my head but she doesn’t want to hear my excuses.

“Your roommate told me you always disappear late at night and come back at the crack of dawn. Do you sleep at all?”

“Of course. I’m fine, mom. I sleep 6-7 hours just not all at once.” I usually take a two hours long nap after the late-night practice and showering but before midnight and I go back to sleep around two or three o'clock depending on how talkative we are. This way I still have enough time to rest until I have to go in the morning.

“Still, it’s irregular and you have to give your best in two days. I want you to be in top shape and being sleep deprived won’t help you,” mom sighs and gives me a firm look.

Please don’t push me too hard! Don’t make me hate it. Because I love ice skating, I love competing but I need something normal in my life, too. My insides are crying out loud and I’m standing there still waiting for more to come but nothing happens. She’s only staring at me with that typical parent expression when her brain thinks that exact thing. Yes, that thing, the I still remember holding you in my arms and crying about cartoons, when did you grow up so fast?

I blink.

“That’s it? Won’t you yell at me?”

“You want me to?” she raises an eyebrow asking as if it was a challenge.

“No, not at all. I just thought you’d be more angry,” I admit relieved and my stomach ache lessens.

“To be honest, I don’t care if you hang out with Park Jimin but only after the competition. Until then I must ask him to respect your packed schedule and leave you alone. Except if he has some useful advice to give.”

My jaw drops as my mother talks about Jimin. She even knows his name! I get the feeling she secretly became his fan after the blindfold performance. But truth to be told: who didn’t? The video of the routine went viral on the Internet and has millions of views already. That’s the topic everyone’s talking about worldwide, noted as the most stunning event of this year’s Olympics so far and Jimin rapidly became celebrity famous. Yet, he’s still shy and humble about it.

Are you okay? Tell me you didn’t get into trouble. Jimin texts me and even inserts a praying emoji that makes me smile. I reply immediately after we say good night with mom and I glare at my roommate for telling on me. Thank god, mom was pretty chill after I agreed to her conditions.

No, not really. She just wants us to stop meeting at ungodly hours until my competition.

And we do stop but she didn’t say anything about messages. Thanks to those cute messages I get with a ping I can bear with my mother’s crazier than ever nagging about practising all the time. Soon, texting him becomes the highlight of my day and my source of reassurance in this beautiful havoc.

 Day 10 - 19th February

The day has come and I’m more nervous than ever.

“I can’t wait to see you on ice,” Jimin grins at me all of a sudden and I roll my eyes in frustration. He doesn’t help. At all.

“You have seen me practice,” I point out and poke him in the chest. He shouldn’t even be here, he sneaked in against the rules because he was simply bored. Nobody dared to tell him to leave because honestly who would oppose the gold-winner phenomenon? Even my mom gave up after a firm glare.

“That’s not the same and you know it,” Jimin pouts and the mischievous glint in his eyes gives him away. Suddenly only one thing comes to my mind that could make a difference.

“Oh, let me guess: the dress?”

“Not just that.” he snorts but I can see the faint marks of a blush bright as the Sun on his cheeks. I find it cute that I have such an effect on him.

To be honest, the least he’s seen me in was the clothes I wore at the opening party where we’ve met. Other than that I mostly wear tracksuits, sweater and fluffy coats. My almost revealing black costume decorated with colourful sequins and glitter is definitely on another level and I kind of hope that I could impress him at least a little bit.

“Sorry in advance but my routine will be boring after your jaw-dropping performance.”

That’s why a part of me hopes that he doesn’t have high expectations because I’m not sure I could live up to them. However, since I have a fairy concept it’s my goal to put the audience, including him, under a spell.

“Tsk,” Jimin clicks his tongue in annoyance at that and his smile makes my heart flutter. “Let me be the judge of that.”

I turn crimson as I go back to skating well aware of his eyes on me.

 “Next up Xianni Xu, from China, performing River flows in you,” a feminine voice blares from the speakers a few hours later but it seems like a lifetime passed since we laughed around freely with Jimin at the side-line.

I can feel knots in my stomach while I slide into position on the ice.  The usual stage fright. It’s always the worst moments before stepping on ice. As soon as the music starts, it's gone, replaced by adrenaline rushing through my veins and it stirs me up. I give myself into the passion and I no longer skate but fly higher and higher like it’s magic. My short program’s theme revolves around self-discovery and has a well-built story-arc full of melancholic moments, prolonged movements and charming gestures. Yet, it ends too soon, I feel like I have barely even started.

While I stand in my final pose with straight back and see people who rose to their feet to clap for me, I’d like to capture the moment to remind me of this feeling. Of why I’m doing this. I bow deeply and leave the ice with the thought: not my best but I can always try to do better tomorrow.

 Day 11 - 20th February

On the day of the long program I break down crying after practice because during yesterday's performance I hurt my ankle. I didn’t even notice it until I had to put on the ice skates this morning but now it’s swollen and covered with red-purple spots. I put minty cream on it and take painkillers instead of an actual lunch. I can’t believe I messed up so bad this close to the goal.

“It's okay. Shh... it's okay,” mom keeps telling me like a mantra and rubs my back gently to calm me down. “You just have to performance the three and half minutes once. Can you do that?”

The question I hoped she would never ask was presented to me and I know I have to choose. I’m sure mom wouldn’t force me to do it against my will if I said no. She wants me to have a long career and not one Olympic Gold with a messed up ankle.

“I can,” I hiccup. I've endured worse pain before, I can do it, I try to convince myself but it’s not really working. I couldn’t breathe properly, the guilt suffocated me and I was on the verge of crying again.

“Xianni... you don't have to do it. No matter how you do whether you’ll be last or first, I’m proud of you,” mom says as I shake my head sobbing. Last time I wasn’t good enough to qualify; now I’m on the short-list for a sparkling medal and I’d like to give it a try. I’d like to prove to her and myself.

So we roll bandage around my ankle after applying a ton of alleviative fluid and I rest it for a while which seems like the worst idea once I stand up but I can’t overwork myself. The doctor also says I’ll need immediate medical help after performing my routine.

Even though we don’t tell anyone about it, gossips are spreading here quickly like a virus and an hour before the long program I get a message from Jimin. Just a simple I hope you're okay. You can do it. but it means a whole lot more. I gives me strength and hope. Yeah, he’s right. I can do it!

And I do. When my name is called I slide across the ice confidently throwing smiles here and there. I let the music and my passion towards skating sooth the pain and on my cue I set off a slow, elegant pace. I bless Yixing for the choreography’s natural flow and I get lost in it easily, just like when you fall asleep under warm blankets during cold winter nights. Luckily my triple axel triple toe at the highlight part puts pressure on my good leg so I’m able to finish my routine with wowing the judges and apparently, the audience.

I tear up when I glide off the ice and see my mother’s touched and impressed face. She squeezes me tightly in her arms as soon as I step on the carpeted floor. Whatever happens, I’m satisfied with myself. I finished my routine neatly and just the way I wanted. I’m so over the top because of this relieved feeling I almost miss the announcement of my score. I just hug my mother in the kiss and cry area and we let the happy tears roll down when eventually 3rd place appears beside my name on the scoreboard.

As I stand there with a bronze medal around my neck and a flower bouquet in my hand, I only search for one face in the crowd. When I finally find his beaming eye smile and clapping figure I wave happily into his direction and chuckle lightly when one of his friends, Hoseok I think, makes a show of waving me back. This must be one of the most beautiful moments of my life and I’m sure I’ll remember this feeling for a long time.

 “So what’s your story?” Jimin asks later that night while we’re stargazing. It’s the same question I brought up after he won gold. It’s only fair to answer him now. I don’t really have anything to hide from him anyway.

“I was on ice as soon as I learned how to walk. That’s my second home. Or my first depending on how much time I spend there,” I let out a breathy sigh as I acknowledge the facts. When it’s competition season, I barely go home, I only sleep there and I’m lucky to have mom who takes me home, otherwise I could sleep on the changing room’s bench because sometimes I’m even too tired to move after 4-6-8 hours of practising and off-ice training.

“You mother seems pretty strict.”

I hum in agreement. I get that a lot and I’m not even surprised anymore, she really is demanding but I’m used to it by now. It’s been long since I wondered why she’s like this.

“I think she’s trying to prove something but I’m all she has so I don’t want to disappoint her.” The confession feels heavy on my tongue, I’ve never said it out loud and it somewhat makes it more true. The proof for my compulsion to conform. It’s weird, I note to myself. I’m not ashamed of it (of who I am) in front of Jimin. I know for sure he won’t judge or misunderstand me. “Dad divorced her when I was eight. He said she’s obsessed with ice skating. Maybe he was right.”

Occasionally I get birthday cards, money and a congrats but I rarely see my father. There’s this throbbing ache in my chest that resembles of missing someone but when the three of us is together, we always end up arguing and I’m tired of being the mediator. Two grown-up adults and they act like children. I can’t stand it so it’s maybe better this way. Just me, mom and figure skating.

“Aren’t you close with her?” Jimin wonders out loud and I don’t blame him. My relationship with my mother is rather complicated.

“We were pretty close when I was younger but when things got serious, she started acting more like my coach than my mother,” I chew on my lips nervously on my bottom lip while talking. It feels so goddamn fine to finally able to talk about it with someone. Before I had nobody who’d listen to my nonsense or whom I’d trust enough to let into one of my secrets. The only constant thing in my life is mom and I can’t talk with her about this. “Whenever I’m with someone she thinks I will give up on skating and stuff like that.”

It’s a loud silence: so quiet, you can hear the ocean from afar and the heartbeats if you listen closely. I can feel Jimin’s eyes on me and when I look up they are there when I hoped them to be: focused on me.

“She cares about you,” he says softly, comforting. I can almost feel his words wrap me up in a warm blanket and soothing calming melodies.

“I know and I know she just doesn’t want me to repeat her mistake.” The fist around my heart clenches harder. The possibility has always been so absurd to me but lately… everything changes. “She would never say it out loud but I know sometimes she regrets having me. If she didn’t get pregnant so young she could have been an Olympic medallist. That’s why it’s so important to her.”

I can still see her happy tears and feel her bone-crushing hug when I got my score that determined my place. My Olympic bronze medal.

“You did it. You made her proud,” Jimin reminds me and he looks at me like he stares at the stars. Like I was something beautiful yet out-of-reach.

“Yeah, I guess I did.”

“And me, too. I’m proud of you,” he blurts out without warning and my heart skips a beat. I have to shift away my gaze from his intense glare.

I can’t deal with him and his sweet words right now. I’m already melting like cheap vanilla ice cream from the corner shop in the terrible heat of summer. My heart is sizzling like sugar in steaming hot oil just before caramelisation. I’m afraid of burning myself if I get too close and I know that I should stop before it’s too late. But instead I inch closer.

[imnobodysgirl]

Unfinished

“She was the only right decision I made in my entire existence. Having her was the most significant part of me I’m proud of. I did not have so much exciting happening in my life until she came and put some colors to it.”

I am a very confident person. Some time during my 3rd year college, I decided that I will land on a Call Center job after I graduate. Nothing special about it but I think people who works there are very high-spirited, outgoing, intelligent & youthful. I was attracted easily to that industry hence I started to make English as my first language. Whenever I talk to people, I confidently speak in English even if my grammar slips or my enunciation sounds funny and I look ridiculous to my friends and classmates. But it didn’t stop me, I made it a habit until I graduated college. A week after my graduation I started to job hunt. I went to all BPO Centers I’ve known and submitted my credentials to them. Unfortunately it became a challenge to me to get in into the industry. Until I found my promise land where I earned my way to get up and be better into something that I’d really like to do.

After five years of having a smooth professional career I felt that something is missing. It was New Year 7 years ago when I was lying on my bed thinking what else I want to have in my life. Maybe, I wanted something new or is this what they call mid-life crisis? I thought to myself. Then I remembered when the “lack feeling” started. I grew up from a broken family, I haven’t seen my mom for quite a while and  I feel like I was not getting any younger anymore. I was satisfied with my life after graduation until that very moment, I have good friends, I think everything is going well with my career and with my family well let’s just say I don’t have the perfect one but I love them most.  That night I prayed to meet the love of my life; my soulmate; my other half; my future; I prayed to specifically meet her that year.

Then “Miss Too Good For Me” came along. I first saw her in one of the malls around the city. Actually, we watched a movie together. My best friend brought her together with other friends and we were introduced to each other. I can’t think of any words to describe her aside from she’s unique from other girls I met before. She has a sharp nose and deep eyes, she half-braided her shiny long black hair and she’s got a beautiful smile. She’s wearing a checkered shirt and tattered jeans with white sneakers which makes her more juvenile. She has a very bubbly personality which is very fascinating about her and made me interested to be her friend. (Okay, I admit, to me she was cute and I got a bit crush on her).  I get easily attracted to people whom I think are smart and witty which probably made us get along easily. It was indeed a nice day for me not until when we parted ways. As she waived her hand saying goodbye to me and my best friend, she dropped a taboo word (at least just for me). “Bye ‘kuya’! (big brother)”  Yeah right, I was almost 5 years older than her.

But I guess I just can’t keep distance from her after that day. We started to talk to each other often, I usually send her ‘Good morning’ text messages after my shift and sometimes call her during my break time at the office. I never had this feeling before, that feeling of eagerness to know someone or be part of someone’s life especially to a girl. I’m all new to this friendship between a guy and girl thing. I realized that I do not want her to think that I have other motives aside from friendship, besides she only sees me as her big brother so I decided to forget about my special feelings for her and treat her as a little sister instead, most of all I thought I convinced myself that I was successful forgetting that “I like her”.

Our friendship grew. We shared a lot of cool stuff together. Our personalities jived.  The only person whom she thinks have loved her more than anyone else did (her dad) died when she was 14 and was left with two sisters and mom who were never that close to her. To me, she was like a modern Cinderella of this lifetime I live in. They say that “misery loves company” and I feel like our miseries have brought us closer.   While she was this high spirited little girl, I was there, sitting beside her and had the satisfaction of watching over her every step of the way. I love listening to her stories, laughing at her jokes (no matter how corny it is) and taking note of every detail she shares about her (she wanted to be a writer, travel the world and likes photography a lot). Until talking to her thru phone was not enough for me and I felt the need of seeing her, spending time with her. I once instigated her to come with me and wander out of town. That adventure was followed by another, and another until I have been doing things with her for the first time. I never thought I’ll do things that I haven’t done before. She unveiled the adventurous and youthful side of me, part of me that was hidden for some time.  She made me value things I give less attention before. I’m not the type who opens up personal things to other people but with her, it seemed like I knew her for ages and it felt comfortable unmasking a part of me that my other friends don’t even see. We had each other and to us, that’s what really matters.

I find her cute when she starts to pose her sulky face but she’s prettier when she’s happy. I secretly take pictures of her when we walk around the parks, make fun of her hideous stolen photos when she eats or talk and no matter how she frowns at me because I can’t even take a good photo of her, she’s still charming. Contrary to what she believes (she thinks that she’s just another plain and ordinary girl that no guy would ever see her the way she wants to), for me, she’s a one in a million girl. It may sound cliché but that’s the truth. I wish I could lend her my eyes so she can see the wonderful things I see about her. She is a true friend, a selfless girl and a loyal being. Her bravery makes me feel brave too. Her passion in everything she does inspires me. She always makes me want more in life, dream of what it would be like if I ever get it. Every moment with her feels like I’m taking the road beyond the road less traveled. She invigorated me to step out of my comfort zone and influenced me to “live by the moment”. Dangerous and reckless it might be, but I must admit it felt good. Out of the things I wanted that I knew I could not have, part of me hopes that someday she would be ‘Somebody’s Girl’, and that somebody will be me.

One afternoon, while we were gazing at the horizon at Manila Bay, she asked me when do I plan to have a girlfriend. I responded to her ridiculously that if I’ll have a girlfriend soon that means I have to turn my back from her and leave her because I’ll be busy and I don’t want my girlfriend to be jealous. She frowned and yelled at me saying that she’s taking back what she said. “But seriously, whoever she is, she will be so lucky to have you” while she’s uttering those words it felt like my heart skipped a beat; I can’t take my eyes of her, part of me wants to tell her that I’d rather not have a girlfriend just to keep her by my side.

Before that year ended I received a letter from her. She wrote it on a fancy hallmark card. It has a poem on its front cover that talks about somebody who learned to love a friend beyond friendship; the color that the card has on its canvass is lavender. I remembered she told me once the meaning of that color (love in waiting). As I read the letter, the feeling was indescribable. She wrote that, over the course of what we have she learned to care for me more than just a friend. Her letter taunts me to take a chance on us as if she already knew how I feel. At the latter part of her letter she wrote not to treat her as a sister anymore so that I might have a view of her as a woman whom I can love. She was indeed brave. I don’t think I’ll be able to let her know what I truly feel. Her letter made my heart beat faster… it made my heart beat more for her. How can she love someone like me? Someone who can’t even admit how he truly feels. I felt a mixture of sadness and joy.

I never courted a girl. In fact, she’s the only girl I have been closed to. Admitting that I started to grow feelings towards her seems difficult for me. I know she tries to decode my actions but I managed to hide my feelings. Maybe the right term instead of hiding is fear. It felt like a lot of things needs to be reconsidered and I do not want to do something I might regret. I won’t take any risk of losing her but it seems I’m starting to lose her as I slowly keep my distance from her. As I expected, she resented me for ignoring her texts, turning down her invites, not looking her in the eye whenever she asks me “Why?”. I felt like I was a jerk for shutting her out. We talked one morning at the park where we used to spend time every Tuesday. It’s been a while since the last time I got closer to her like that. She bluntly asked me if I love her. I never thought I’d be able to answer. Finally I said “I love you. But I’m not ready yet to love you the way you want me to.” Then I knew, I just dropped the ball.

Some say that “Love is not who you can see yourself with. It is who you can’t see yourself without.” With her, it was the same. I can always picture myself with her and I cannot picture the future without her. I can’t run around in circles anymore. After some months of hiding inside myself, I brought her to our favorite diner. As we sat at the corner table, I asked her to be mine. I was afraid she might turn me down after what I did to her for the past few months. I just can’t let the opportunity of asking her to slip again, that’s why for the first time in my life I took a risk. I let go of my what if’s and I turned my back from my reality. I guess being unsure of what the future holds makes us desire it more so we can say that it is worth the try. She held my hand said yes. I was the luckiest guy in the world. There was this unexplained feeling that even science would not be able to explain. She was the most right decision I made in my entire existence. Having her was the most significant part of me I’m proud of. I did not have so much exciting happening in my life until she came and put some colors to it.

She was my first, and I want to be her last. I want to be that guy who will be proud to show her to the world, who will fight the world alongside with her, the guy who will make her feel that what we have is sure and will last. She’s the girl I want to marry and I could not think of the future with anyone else but only with her. I must admit, I am so laid back that I wanted us to take everything so slow when it comes to our relationship. As we take things slow, we are seeing the beauty of it; that every single detail about our relationship that is worth remembering. The first time I held her hands as her boyfriend was when we were celebrating our 10th month as a couple. It gave both of us chills the first time we held hands, we almost can’t let go. We went to places we both wanted to see, we had our own adventures even misadventures and we were never been happier since we were together. Like any other couples, we do fight. While being together brings out the best in each of us, it also reveal those things we could not tolerate in each other. Everything I learned about her, good or bad, did not make me love her less. I had struggle on changing the things she wanted to change in me but I tried, after all, I want her to feel that she is valued and loved.

I don’t know what went wrong. All I can remember is we fell apart. The most difficult part of losing her is I can't even identify what went wrong. Is it because I felt she's too much for me? She has been wonderful from the start.. how I can be this inconsistent, insensitive and unsure guy for her? It was unfair. I was unfair. I was sitting there in front of her one afternoon at a coffee shop telling her that I feel like my feelings for her is starting to fade. I still love her but I no longer have the drive to continue my relationship with her… that I just woke up one day feeling that way. I can still clearly remember her face, she managed not to cry. She asked me if I still want to continue our relationship and fight for what we have. Deep inside of me wants to fight. I never intend to lose her. I can’t imagine what it would be like losing her. I wanted to fight, but I do not have the courage to. Then.. our relationship ended.

I haven't seen her for a year. Funny that after cutting all communications with her, I started missing her. Until the day to meet her again came. I saw her in our common friend's wedding. A lot about her has changed. She was prettier than ever... and she has someone seating beside her in the church.

—- Unfinished— I was not able to finish this story Sorry!

[raioseucliffe-cheney]

Immortals (Chapter 2)

As far as he remembers, it always had been Yuu and him. From the day they met each other when they were still children until now. Even though they had a rocky start to even get along with each other, he can’t complain at all. Because Yuu and him are friends. Therefore it’s all right to act a bit like a spoiled kid. Because it was told, the two of them are unique. Even though blessed with Immortality, he had been the one to discover the hidden weapon within his own soul first. From an instant he knew what they are and how to call his weapon forged out of a very fine and shiny material know as Innocence.

Thanks to his Mentor Ares he quickly developed a fine handling wielding his Kusarigama in battle as well as how to disguise himself in situations needed to do so in the first place. Yuu seems to head frequently into the dimension humans are at home while he’s been there not as often as his friend. But if he does and he’s in a very good mood, he takes on the disguise of an attractive young woman in her early twenties. Otherwise he’d run around in worn out jeans, a multi colored T-shirt and some sneakers with a knitted hat to cover his shoulder-long bluish hair, that actually has some violet tint to it. Actually in a way he kind of envies how long Yuus hair got in comparison to his own.

But he loves everything about the silent man he can call his friend. Most of the time he spends watching Yuu train his skills with Mugen. There is nothing more fascinating for him than to watch in awe his best friend dance with such an elegance with the sharp blade in his hands through the rows of bamboo in their garden. There is for sure no one deadlier and beautiful in his eyes than Kanda Yuu. At least a part within him knows, there is no reason for worry at all. Whatever the situation, Yuu will be for sure there and cover his back. ************

Lately he found himself thinking almost the entire day about staying with Yuu like this within a serious relationship. Actually, he has no clue where this idea originates from, but something inside of him wishes their friendship would finally transform into something more genuine. Laying on his back at the big patio while gazing into the star-light sky a smile rest on his lips while a trusted muzzle prods his shoulder. From the day, their Innocence had awoken, both Yuu and he were sent out to journey through the different dimensions in order to find their soul companions. His own are the eagle and the coyote. Two companions he can rely on and he loves as much as he loves Kanda Yuu. “Alma, you take things too lightly” is the coyote now saying to him as he raises now his hand in order to pet the fur of his soul companion and the smile grows on his lips.

He may be naïve and kind, but he’s proven himself in many situations to be stubborn, clingy and defiant. “As long as Yuu is with me, everything is fine” is his response right now as he raises himself now and his gaze is now fixed at the eagle landing on his shoulder. “Don’t take his presence for granted, Alma. Everyone walks different paths. Even the ones to clad themselves in utter silence” are the wise words now coming from the eagle and a short sigh escapes his lips. A part of him knows they are true, but the other part within him keeps on denying the fact, Yuu might one day take a path leading the swordsman away from him. “I know, but still…” is he starting the sentence as he looks at both the eagle and the coyote. ‘Still, I just can’t let go of him’ is the thought swirling in his mind right now and he decides to get up right now.

Actually he knows his soul companions only care for his well-being. He appreciates their worry about him very much. But there is something he can’t ignore at all. The way he is drawn towards his best friend in such a magical way, he isn’t able to describe into simple words. There are these moments, where he starts to blush only by seeing Yuu shirtless out there at the patio meditating or walking through the house. A certain warmth floods through his entire body when he lays right next to him gazing at the stars or sharing a bed together, because he is again not capable to fall asleep on his own. The longing to be kissed and touched by the dark-haired swordsman is steadily growing within his chest, that he has no other explanation to it than that he’d fallen in love with his best friend.

But obviously Yuu doesn’t seem to be showing the slightest interest of their friendship to step up a notch. Most of the time the swordsman takes off and he only sees him return, when everything is clad into the dark colors of the night. Constantly he asks himself, where Yuu is going and why the dark-haired man always insist on being alone. Thoughts of the swordsman being off to meet secretly someone are kind of poisoning his mind to an extent that he started to ask Yuu every time he returns who the dark-haired man was seeing behind his back. Alone the thought of someone else laying claim on this attractive man is a catastrophe for him. Therefore he needs to figure out quickly how to secure the dark-haired swordsman for himself before anyone else is able to do so first. ************

“Yuu, you’re finally back” is he saying joyful right now as he notices the portal to appear near the patio and he runs towards his friend to hug him. But he immediately stops as he sees the red-haired young man behind Yuu to appear as well. For a moment he’s quite shocked. There is something outgoing from this man that is so familiar to him. Confused as he is, he stares now at Yuu, who is right now passing him, feeling the hand of the swordsman rest shortly on his shoulder. “I need to inform them. Take care of him in the meantime, Alma” is all he hears now from Yuu, still looking at him as the dark-haired man walks now inside the house. Deep inside Alma quickly knows who Yuu means with them. ‘He’s going to inform our mentors about the presence of one more like us’ is he thinking right now while his gaze turns now to the red-haired man in front of him. “Follow me, you look quite beat up” is he only saying right now and with a short nod the other one follows him now inside the house. There is one part within this huge house, he always wonders how Yuu came up with the name but he has to agree it fits perfectly. The so called Room of Healing. It is a simple white marbled room with a spring in the middle. This water heals any wound within minutes. Even broken bones and internal injuries if you take a little sip of the water. “Go undress and stay in the water for a while” are the next words he directs at the red-head as they reach now the Room of Healing. While the other one is tending his wounds, he goes in search of fitting clothing for the red-haired man. The thing is most of them would be kind of too small since they only fit Yuu or him. But at least he’s so lucky to find some oversized pants and shirt and returns including some towels to the Room of Healing. There he lays them near a small table and faces the door while waiting for Yuu to tell him more about the red-haired man. Even if he closes his eyes, he still feels surrounded by the same presence as if he would be constantly around Yuu.

“Thanks. What is this water? It is really amazing” “It comes from a spring and heals all kind of injuries” “So, your name is Alma?”

is he picking up the question right now as he slowly turns around and sees him dressed in the clothing he had been able to find for him. He nods in response and decides right now to show him the entire house, since the other one will be living from today on with Yuu and him.

“Do you have a name?” “I was – last time I checked – called Lavi” “Then it be all right to call you this? “Yeah. Lavi sounds fine to me”

is the red-head now answering with a bright smile while he’s for a moment uncertain about Lavi. Maybe he is assuming things, but why is the other one talking as if he has no real identity? ‘Hopefully Yuu knows more’ is he thinking right now while showing Lavi now around and explaining him the areas he isn’t allowed to enter at all. There are actually three within this house: the garden, since it is Yuus jurisdiction, Yuus living space and his own living space. Leading Lavi now in the area of the house being unused until now, he explains him that this will be from today on Lavis living space.

“So, how did you bump into Yuu?” “Yuu?” “Kanda Yuu, the dark-haired man who brought you here. He’s like me, an Immortal”

is he explaining right to Lavi, rolls his eyes and looks kind off annoyed at him. Asking the red-head might help him to figure out more about the reason why Yuu is constantly heading into the dimension of the humans.

“It might sound crazy, but Yuu-chan offered me this chance to change my perspective of life” “Wait, what?” “If he hadn’t been there I might have tried to kill myself”

are the words now coming from Lavi and with big eyes he stares now at him. But before he’s able to say something Yuu appears with a scowl on his face.

“The old man isn’t very happy about this outcome, but he can stay. Our task for now is to simply observe that Baka-Usagi” “I have a name too, you know?”

is the red-head now responding with a pout and he shortly shakes with slight amusement his head. For now he will accept Lavis presence for a while. But not, if the red-haired man turns out to show some interest on his precious Yuu.