#I didn’t get it in the camera but just piles upon piles of random clothes and trash bags!

[r0achezz]

Before and after. <taken from two different angles of the room I know, I can show you the after in the same angle if you want!>

I was kind of hesitant to post this, i though people might think I was faking but uhm- y e a h.

before: date, around February 2023 (it had been in that state, since 2022 though)

after: date, today! January 28th, 2024. Piece by piece and little by little I was finally able to put it back together! I was getting better around February and couldn’t stand it, but it took awhile because my body just didn’t wanna do anything still XD

I’m happy with my growth though! It’s not much ofc, my room is still dirty (paint on the floor, clothes piled on my dresser, some stuff still on my keyboard) but it’s definitely better than what I was originally in.

it’s not extreme like how other rooms usually are (which is not a problem at all) but idk, it still makes me happy

[gryffindorkxdraws]

CARDIGAN

Title: Cardigan

Word Count: 1,610

Summary: Rapunzel reminisces of what once was.

Notes: a few of you suggested for cardigan so i'm putting all of that here in one ask. just cus i don't want a song to be repeated! enjoy!

listen to song here while reading

It was raining outside when Rapunzel decided to clean up her room. There was so much to do, and so much to see, or rather, find again with how her room was full of chaos. ‘It’s like having your very own galaxy in here!’ His voice echoed in her head. That was the very first thing Jack said to her when she invited him over, which felt like a lifetime ago.

Vintage tee, brand new phone

High heels on cobblestones

When you are young, they assume you know nothing

Rapunzel sorted out her things by years. Her childhood toys that she made out of recycled materials go on one corner, the bizarre things she collected as a teenager went on the other, and her adult stuff— which were still as random as ever, according to Merida— on her bed. Though those weren’t as much as the others given how she moved out as soon as she hit college. And honestly? She wasn’t sure what she was doing back at home. Visiting her parents, despite that fact being true, felt like an excuse.

Sequin smile, black lipstick

Sensual politics

When you are young, they assume you know nothing

She paused when she found a picture frame buried beneath a pile of clothes in the closet. While only seeing one corner of it, she already knew what it was. Pushing her clothes aside, she then picked up the picture frame and stared at it. There, under its glass, were high schoolers her and Jack smiling at each other. And like magic, the memory behind it resurfaced and played before her eyes.

But I knew you

Dancin' in your Levi's

Drunk under a streetlight, I

I knew you

Hand under my sweatshirt

Baby, kiss it better, I

Jack was drunk, somewhat, after they stole beer from Hiccup’s stash, and he laughed from a corny joke Rapunzel excitedly shared. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t tipsy too, and, perhaps from the influence of alcohol, found Jack’s wheezy laugh all so endearing. 

And if they weren’t exchanging jokes, they were exchanging dance moves with Rapunzel egging him to do better. This prompted him to do a backflip, causing the two to squeal and jump around in his success. That was when Hiccup finally found them to get the stolen goodies back, though he was rather forced to take their picture if they were to return the rest of the beer from Jack’s backpack.

And when I felt like I was an old cardigan

Under someone's bed

You put me on and said I was your favorite

Rapunzel remembered how her heart did a somersault when Jack wrapped his arm around her shoulder for the picture. Though they didn’t bother to turn at the camera. Not when they were so engrossed with each other that Hiccup complained about it. If anything, she wanted that moment to freeze so she could stay in its magic forever. But that night went and passed, and there was nothing she could do to go back to it.

A friend to all is a friend to none

Chase two girls, lose the one

When you are young, they assume you know nothin'

Not wanting to drown in her emotions, Rapunzel placed the picture frame with her high school stuff. Though this still didn’t stop the tears forming in her eyes. It blurred her eyesight in a way that made her wonder if this will all her home will ever be. A reminder of what once was. A reminder of Jack. She then wiped her eyes and moved on, until she stumbled on another thing that sparked a precious memory.

But I knew you

Playing hide-and-seek and

Giving me your weekends, I

I knew you

Your heartbeat on the High Line

Once in 20 lifetimes, I

From her pile of clothes that she finally got to sort was a worn out cardigan that she and Jack used to share once upon a time. She carefully picked it up, hesitated for a second, before bringing the cloth to her nose. It smelled like her closet, but also faintly of Jack’s woodsy smell. That boy did, after all, enjoy venturing through the windows nearby their neighborhood, saying it was full of secrets and whatnot.

And when I felt like I was an old cardigan

Under someone's bed

You put me on and said I was your favorite

They had this thing, you see, of sharing the cardigan and taking turns on who gets to keep it or wear it for the day. Or a week, if one forgets to ask for it. Rapunzel still remembers the day they found out in their local thrift store, and how their argument of who gets to buy it was eventually solved by Merida when she jokingly said “Well, why don’t you take turns wearing it instead and be done with it!” The cardigan, in short, held so many memories in it with how it basically grew up with them throughout high school.

To kiss in cars and downtown bars

Was all we needed

You drew stars around my scars

But now I'm bleedin'

But now all it reminded Rapunzel was how things could never go back to what it once was. Not after how she ruined everything. Their friendship, their memories, their everything. All it took was for her lips to say three simple words, and the magic ended right then and there.

“I love you.” Rapunzel confessed with all her heart, but it wasn’t enough. 

Or maybe it was too much.

Because Jack stood there before her, speechless. His eyes almost asked ‘Why?’ like what she did was so irreversible and permanent. And each second that passed by with silence stretching on made Rapunzel choke in her overflowing emotions. Something Jack wasn’t ready to catch.

'Cause I knew you

Steppin' on the last train

Marked me like a bloodstain, I

The days that followed after were painful, with Rapunzel dealing with Jack's rejection. Which was followed by this abrupt distance that cut in between them. And no matter how many times they tried, they couldn’t go back to what their friendship once was. Not with both of their hearts broken for different reasons.

I knew you

Tried to change the ending

Peter losing Wendy, I

The night before Rapunzel was to leave for college, Jack visited her through the bedroom window. It was late, and it was sudden, but at that moment they both had this feeling that this might be the last time they’ll ever see each other. Rapunzel wasted no time in pulling him close for a hug, breathing him in before her heart struck. She pushed him away knowing it would do better for her.

I knew you

Leavin' like a father

Running like water, I

And when you are young, they assume you know nothing

She snapped at him to stop giving her mixed signals. Not after she laid her heart out to him, only for him to drop it the very next second. And tried as Jack might to explain to her that he didn’t want to lose her, Rapunzel had already shut her heart from him to protect it. There was nothing Jack could ever say or do that would make her change her mind.

But I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss

I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs

The smell of smoke would hang around this long

'Cause I knew everything when I was young

I knew I'd curse you for the longest time

Rapunzel would be lying if she said she got over him. Not when he haunted her wherever she went. She could hear his voice whenever she took notes in class, saying how much fun it would be to disrupt class with a sudden lightsaber duel. She could hear his laughter whenever she found herself losing it over a badly executed joke. She could see the way his eyes would shine whenever she was up to no good.

Which didn’t seem fair at all. She then wondered if it was the same for Jack. If her confession ever haunted him too. Stirred up his life even to at least call things even. She wanted to know so badly, but she never once hit the call button whenever she tapped his number on her cellphone.

Chasin' shadows in the grocery line

I knew you'd miss me once the thrill expired

And you'd be standin' in my front porch light

And I knew you'd come back to me

You'd come back to me

And you'd come back to me

And you'd come back

Days turned into months, and months turned into a year, and now here Rapunzel was. Back in her room where she was determined to get rid of everything that was holding her back to the past. She had a funny feeling then that Jack would come back. He always did after all. Though this time, she was determined to let him go. It was the least she could do for what remained of her heart.

And when I felt like I was an old cardigan

Under someone's bed

You put me on and said I was your favorite

And yet, when she found herself face to face with Jack, who was breathless and looking as beautiful as ever by her front door, the speech she had for him went down the drain. There was something in the way Jack looked at her that sparked this small hope in her heart. Not trusting what she might say, Rapunzel followed her guts as she and Jack made their next move.

[penguintransporter]

Every You, Every Me (a Leon Goretzka story) chapter II

I know it’s been a while, but I re-wrote this part maybe seven, eight times, only to settle on something completely different. Hope you like it, and I apologise if it is a bit too long (you know me). Tell me what you think about it, every heart, message, and reblog means much more than you can imagine. It needs some editing, but I will get around to do it sometime later. 

Part I

Sofie rested her hands on her waist, overlooking the mountain of clothes piled on her bed — different shapes, colours, patterns and prints, interlacing and weaving in an incomprehensible bundle on top of her comforter. She didn’t know where to start, and for a moment, she wished she could wipe it away with a snap of her fingers, and be over with it.

She was tired after having a sleepless night, and she was hungry, but she had been putting it off for too long, and she knew it had to be done. 

Shaking her head a bit, Sofie picked up a pair of black, over-the-knee boots from the top of the pile — the soft leather feeling smooth against the skin of her fingertips. She remembered the day when she bought them, matching them with a strappy top and a mid-calf, satin skirt — cashing out the last cents of her scholarship money in the outfit, hoping to catch his eye.  

The confidence she felt when she made her way through the crowd in the outfit she couldn’t afford and with her makeup and hair immaculately done, trying to fit in with the people he invited to his birthday party — it all felt ridiculous and a bit childish in retrospective. The glances they shared across the room, the smile on his face when he opened the present she got him, the random touch of his fingertips against her bare back when he guided her to the bar, and the clearest of them all, the bitter taste in her mouth when he left with Yvonne — the girl he ended up dating for the next six months. 

As she watched his figure walk out with his strong arm around the pretty blonde in luxurious dress, Sofie knew that the best thing would be to just give up, as any sane person in her place would, but she just couldn’t bring herself to listen to her brain. Instead, she booked a hairdresser the next morning, dyeing her hair in lighter colour and waited for him to notice it, feeding on the crumbs of his attention and sticking to it like a moth to the flame. 

Yet, she was blind, diving deep into the pit of unrequited love, shedding the layers of her real self along the way, not thinking about consequences or the future.

Sofie breathed out a sigh before lifting up a dress from her bed — short and covered in sequins, and she couldn’t help but narrow her eyes at the mere thought of owning it, let alone wearing it. There was nothing wrong with the dress itself, but the cut, length and style of it, it was all, but something she felt comfortable wearing. Folding it gingerly, she glanced back at the clothes in front of her — realisation of how much she had changed herself for Leon hitting her like a train. 

Sofie knew better than that.

Sofie was about to throw the dress behind her, in the same pile with her overpriced boots when her phone buzzed loudly on her dresser, startling her. Dropping it back on the pile, Sofie made her way towards the device that was hidden among one too many notebooks and course books resting on the IKEA piece before picking it up and smiling at the name written across the screen. 

“You actually did it!” Elle screamed from the other side of the line causing the other girl to twist her lips and move her phone away from her ear for a second. If there was one distinctive separating the two of them, it was the different levels of their loudness at any given moment. “Turn the fucking camera on, and let me see it!” her best friend demanded — her voice still too loud for Sofie’s or anyone's comfort. 

“Language,” Sofie laughed, fumbling with her phone, “you are not on the pitch, Ellenore.” Sofie finally turned on the front camera, pulling a face at Elle as her friend squealed with happiness upon seeing her hair, or rather lack of it. “I guess you like it then,” Sofie muttered, patting the top of her head, feeling slightly embarrassed with the attention she was getting. 

“I love it,” Elle breathed out. “I was worried at first when you texted, but you have one sexy head, Sofie. How does it feel? Naked?”

“Light and cold,” Sofie responded with a shake of her head, “almost had a heart attack when I woke up yesterday morning and saw myself in the mirror.”

Elle laughed softly, adjusting her large bag across her shoulders as she walked along the small street that led to her apartment block - the red jacket with the Bayern Munich logo zipped all the way to her chin. 

“What’s the mess about?” Elle changed the topic, making Sofie turn her head away to look at the clothes and shoes strewn across her bed. 

“I’ve been—” Sofie paused to make herself some space before sitting down at the foot of her bed, “decluttering. Or something like that.”

Elle’s face dropped for a second, but she quickly masked it with a supporting grin that Sofie more than appreciated. If anyone knew about the heartbreak and the identity crisis that Sofie was going through, it was Elle. 

“Are you getting rid of everything?” Elle asked. “Will you sell it or give away?”

“I don’t know what to do with it yet, but I know that it has to go,” Sofie admitted. She felt the tears glaze her vision, but she quickly gave Elle a small smile, trying to stop herself from being too pathetic. “I’ve made such a mess out of my life, Elle,” she paused, giving herself a moment to bite back her tears, “I could have travelled half of the world with the money I spent on frills and sequins, and I hate frills and sequins.”

“I think you are being too hard on yourself, Sofie,” Elle said as Sofie stretched her legs in front of her, “and travelling half of the world is more expensive than you think. Unless you are someone who is comfortable wearing the same harem pants and baja hoodie for more than two and showering once a week,” she added with an innocent smile, and Sofie couldn’t help but smile back at her.

“I am just disappointed that I let myself go this far,” Sofie admitted, focusing on the slippers on her feet - soft material worn out and discoloured. “Plenty fish in the sea, and I was pulling on the biggest catch. How silly of me.”

Elle was quiet as Sofie got up, making her way out of the room and towards the kitchen, closing the doors behind her. One thing was keeping herself busy with it, and completely different to stare at it and do nothing.

“Did you talk to him? Or Serge? They are back from Trentino, or at least that’s what I’ve heard from the girls at the training.” Elle stopped to unlock her apartment doors. 

Despite seeing that Elle was concentrating on twisting the locks, Sofie nodded, pouring some of the juice from the container into her glass. “I had a missed call from Leon on Tuesday,” she took a small sip of her drink, relishing the coolness trickling down her throat, “and I called back. I know I shouldn’t have,” Sofie whispered, rubbing at her eye with her free hand, placing her glass at the edge of the sink, “but he didn’t mention anything about coming back early. Then again, I didn’t ask either, maybe I should have. And why am I being so pathetic, it's not like we had something going on? It was me running after him...”

“Sofie,” Elle sighed quietly — her voice careful, “I know it’s not easy to deal with the heartbreak, and you shouldn’t keep it inside. I am here, you know that?”

Sofie nodded, trying to ignore the feeling of emptiness in her stomach despite the juice. “Yeah,” she answered slowly, “but, I hav—” Sofie stopped, running her hand across the top of her head, finding comfort in the simple action of touching it. “How was your training session?” she asked, changing the subject clumsily as the doorbell rang out throughout her apartment. Sofie’s stomach grumbled at the mere thought of eating lunch soon.

“Did you order food?” Elle smirked, “sushi? Noodles?”

“Indian actually,” Sofie replied, walking towards the doors through the small hallway before unlocking the massive doors, only to stop in her tracks — the smile she had prepared for the delivery person faltering as quickly as it appeared.

**

“You know, Serge,” Sofie grinned as she twirled the last remaining of her already cold tea in her cup, “staring at me won’t make it grow back any faster,” she spoke, downing the leftovers of her drink while grinning at her friend over the lip of her mug. He only laughed in response, and Sofie rolled her eyes playfully before glancing briefly at Leon.

Ever since Sofie welcomed them in her apartment, Leon had been acting strange, quietly sitting at the edge of her couch — leg bouncing as he glanced at his phone every few seconds. He wasn’t as talkative as Serge most of the time, but having him say only few words was not a common thing. Sofie felt that there was something on his mind, and that he was going through something, but she didn't know how to approach him without being too noisy.

“I wasn’t staring at all,” Serge replied, still grinning, “and if I did, it’s because it looks really good.”

“Do girls drop their panties for you all the time, Gnabry?” Sofie asked, sarcastically. “Your charm is amazing.”

“I am being honest here,” Serge clarified, trying to contain his laughter, “it does look good. Right?” he admitted, looking towards Leon, but his friend ignored him — eyes still trained on the shiny device. Serge smiled in disbelief, glancing at Sofie with a goofy face before leaning closer to his friend and teammate, nudging him with his knee, “Leon? I am talking to you. Are you even here?”

“Hmm? What?” Leon suddenly asked, looking up from his phone, startled at the sound and motion coming from his left. “Did you say something?”

“Sofie’s new haircut. It looks good, no?” Serge repeated, much slower, stretching out every syllable for the confused German. 

“Yeah,” Leon started, giving Sofie a long stare which made her heartbeat accelerate, “yeah, it does,” he repeated somewhat quieter, glancing at his phone again for a millisecond. “Can I make some fresh coffee, Sofie? I feel like some coffee?” he asked suddenly— eyes never leaving hers, and for some reason Sofie felt scrutinized under his gaze.  

Sofie was a bit confused with the urgency in his voice, but nodded quickly, watching him get up and straighten his dark jeans in a hurry and putting his phone in the back pocket. He gave her a small smile in response before moving around the coffee table and walking out of the room, not looking back when Serge commented something that Sofie didn’t catch. There was a strange feeling inside of her stomach as she watched him walk out, before she leaned forward in her seat, giving Serge a quizzical look on which he only shrugged with his shoulders. 

“I’ll go and check,” she whispered, getting up as well, and quickly following Leon into the kitchen. 

He was resting his large hands against the counter, watching Sofie’s cheap coffee machine drip the liquid in the large container. In the small space of her kitchen, crammed with the table, uncomfortable chairs, and way too many plants and random knick-knacks, Leon’s physique was overwhelming. Sofie stood in the doorway, quietly observing him, and nervously bringing her hands together, unwilling to speak out and ruin his peace. 

“You’ve been really quiet,” she finally said, moving away from the doorway and stepping inside the room and beside him. She wasn’t the shortest girl out there, but he was still towering over her, especially now that she was only wearing her slippers. 

Leon briefly glanced at her — his eyes moving from her eyes to her hair, and down to her lips for a split of a second before looking back at the coffee machine again, making her heart soar. Up close, she could see the fine smile lines around his eyes and lips. He was beautiful.

“I didn’t sleep well,” he answered quietly, rubbing at the stubble along his chin, “didn’t help that Serge chatted my ear off on our flight back to Munich either. He sat with Hummels, but he shooed him over to my seat,” he added, giving her a small, one-sided grin.

Sofie smiled as well, turning around and leaning against the sink — the aluminium chilling her back through her worn-out tee. “He’s got enough energy for the entire squad, no?” 

“Indeed he does.”

There was a moment of silence between the two of them, and the only sound was the coffee machine loudly filtering the bitter liquid in the scratched pot. Sofie took a deep breath as she stared in front of herself, focusing on the rotting banana in her fruit basket on the dining table, and before she could stop herself, the words that she was supposed to suppress and keep inside, left her mouth. 

“If you want, you can stay and take a nap on the sofa as usual,” she suggested, and almost instantly regretted it. She had created a list of unwritten rules that were supposed to help her get over Leon, and offering him couch to nap on was not one of them.

“Thanks, but I think I will head out whenever Serge makes a move,” Leon quickly answered, and Sofie felt a pinch at her heart. “You seem busy too.”

“As you wish,” she nodded, moving away from the sink as she watched him pour himself a large cup of coffee, dropping a cube of brown sugar in it before taking a small sip. “You sure you’re okay, Leon?” she asked again. 

“Yeah, all is fine, don’t worry,” he smiled, giving her another long stare, and under his gaze she yet felt naked and exposed. “Shall we go out for dinner tomorrow evening? Would be nice to catch up. It’s been a while,” Leon asked as she was about to walk out of her kitchen and back to where Serge was sitting, but stopped in her tracks upon hearing Leon’s voice behind her.

Sofie took a hesitant breath — her heart starting to beat faster in her chest, but she still managed to smile when she turned around, giving him a small nod. “Sure. Sounds like a plan.”

Wrong answer, Sofie.

Wrong answer. 

tags: 

@footballerimaginess, @littlebitofbluelittlebitofcoffee, @jordanspetkovics, @disneydaddyevans​

If there is someone I forgot to tag, please let me know. 

[baepsaesbae]

Sugar, Snow, and Everything Glows

Pairing— Park Jimin x female reader ft. OT7 

Genre— Fluff, College au, Friends to Lovers, Holiday au

Warnings— None

Word Count— 3.6k

Summary— You’ve gone the entire semester being friends with Park Jimin. Now that the holiday season is in full swing, will things take a turn?

A/N—  This gift was created through @bwcsecretsanta​ event and is for @pjmsdior​. Surprise! I’m your Secret Santa, Winter Bear ❄️🐻  It has been so fun getting to know you and sending fun little asks. Please stay in touch and know that you can always come chat with me! I hope you enjoy my present, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays~

“We only have two days before everyone goes home. Well, I guess it’s more like one and a half now. We gotta make this count!” Jungkook enthusiastically stated to everyone crammed into his tiny dorm room.

“We just finished our last final, can’t we chill out for tonight? We can watch a holiday movie or something,” Taehyung complained.

“That’s exactly why we should celebrate! I heard they’re having a floor wide gingerbread house competition tonight,” Jungkook wiggled his eyebrows.

“Yes, we all know that, Kookie. We literally all live on the same floor and have the same RA,” you reminded him, “Honestly, I’m down to make a gingerbread house. I haven’t done that in forever.”

“Then it’s decided, we’re building edible houses tonight. We still have a few hours to kill so we can watch a movie if you guys want,” Jimin suggested.

With everyone in agreement, all four of you crammed onto Jungkook’s tiny twin bed to watch How the Grinch Stole Christmas (2000). Your first semester of college has been a success. You aced all your classes and lucked out on being in a great friend group. You met all three boys at your first dorm mixer. Thankfully, you all came to a mutual agreement that dorm parties were way too crowded and not even that fun if you weren’t completely drunk. So, you all decided to leave together and played ping pong in the lobby. All four of you had been good friends since.

Jimin and Taehyung were roommates and were practically inseparable. For once, it seemed like the random roommate system created a perfect match. Jungkook was the luckiest of all, since his roommate dropped out early on and he never got a replacement one so he had a room all to himself. The other boys joked that he could have hookups any time he wanted but despite his good looks, Jungkook wawa rather shy when it came to girls. He was awkward when you first met, but he easily warmed up to you and now treats you like one of the boys (Jimin often has to remind him of this when he tells him to keep his poop jokes to a minimum). 

You used to get dirty looks from other freshman girls when they saw you surrounded by all the cute boys, but you learned to ignore them. You tried going on dates with some guys, but freshman boys are still just high schoolers disguised as college students. Needless to say, you never found any guy that interested you. 

Of course, no one could blame you for having a tiny crush on Jimin. You liked everything about him. He was extremely thoughtful, very intelligent, and was in fact a very cute boy. However, you kept your romantic feelings a secret because you didn’t want to ruin the group dynamics. 

These thoughts were hard to suppress when you were literally pressed up against his chest. In order for everyone to fit comfortably, Jimin offered for you to lean against him as he put his arm around you. The other boys paid no attention to his move, which you were thankful for because they would have made fun of you for blushing. You couldn’t pay attention to the movie. You were engulfed by Jimin’s scent (he wore a light yet alluring cologne), and your heart was beating so loudly you were worried that he could hear it.  

“Should we wear Christmas sweaters?” Jungkook glanced at the clock as soon as the movie ended.

“I don’t have any,” you shook your head.

“I have an extra, you can borrow it if you’d like, “Jimin offered. 

“Perfect! Tae do you have one?” Jungkook didn’t give you time to reply.

“I have one with polar bears on it,” Taehyung answered.

“That’ll work! Let’s meet back here in 10,” Jungkook stated as he stripped off his shirt.

“Stop showing off,” Taehyung laughed as he slapped the younger boy’s abs, “C’mon ___, let’s go get changed.”

The other boys’ room was just a couple doors down from Jungkook’s. Taehyung went to change in the bathroom while Jimin picked out a sweater for you. You waited patiently while you looked around Jimin’s side of the room. Your gaze stopped at his polaroid collection that hung above his desk. Looking at them made you smile as you reminisce the fond memories from throughout the semester. You saw the boys laughing and smiling, a surprising number of Jungkook shirtless, and a few selfies that only got Jimin’s forehead as he tried to fit everyone in the picture. 

Then you saw one you’ve never seen before. It was a solo picture of you from Halloween. You wore one of your favorite black dresses with flowy sleeves paired with a pointy witch hat that brought the look together. Upon a closer look, you realized you weren’t even looking at the camera. Instead, you were looking away at an angle that made it seem like you were doing one of those classic model poses.

“I didn’t know you took this,” you called to Jimin, who was rummaging through his closet.

“Oh. Yeah, you just looked picturesque in that moment. I’m glad I got to capture it,” Jimin said in an uncharacteristically bashful way, “Here’s my Santa sweater,” he handed you the article of clothing.

“I actually look kinda cute here, so you did a good job,” you teased him as you put the sweater on over your shirt.

“You always look cute, so don’t worry about that,” Jimin smiled softly.

“You guys ready?” Taehyung barged in, ruining the moment. 

“Yep!” you quickly answered and walked out of the room. Jimin was always sweet, but was he purposely flirting with you there?

“Give me a second, I’m almost ready,” Jimin responded with a tinge of annoyance. 

Jungkook was already waiting outside the room, apparently too impatient to wait for everyone to show up in his room. He was sporting a green sweater that was obnoxiously decorated with real ornaments.

“Did you make that yourself?” Taehyung asked in awe.

“Made it last year with my family; they insisted I bring it with me,” Jungkook shrugged, “Let’s go win this thing!”

“Whaddup guys?” your RA, Jin, greeted the group as you entered the lobby. Four gingerbread kits were set up on a table in the middle of the lobby. Jin glanced at his watch and sighed.

“Hey Jin. Ready for the holidays?” you asked.

“Ready to get away from all you troublemakers,” Jin laughed, “Just kidding. You guys are the only ones who show up to my events, so you’re all automatically my favorites. I had to invite a few of my friends to help make it a real competition.”

“There’s already four people here though, that’s all you need,” Taehyung observed.

“That’s no fun. This is a team competition,” Jin explained, “Counting my friends, I think we can split up perfectly into teams of two.”

“I call ___,” Jimin immediately spoke up.

“Dude, I thought we were gonna be partners,” Taehyung looked butt hurt.

“Don’t worry Tae, we’ll kick their asses. Let’s combine our creative juices together,” Jungkook slung an arm around Taehyung.

“Fine. But keep your juices to yourself,” Taehyung sighed.

“What’s good, party people?” an unfamiliar voice shouted. 

“Ready to show these Freshman how to properly make a gingerbread house?” Jin called out to his friends, “These goons are Namjoon, Yoongi, and Hoseok. I’ll pair up with Namjoon.”

“Sope in the HOUSE!” Yoongi and Hoseok hollered in unison.

“Oh, and I forgot to mention that the winner gets a $50 giftcard,” Jin winked, “Ready, set, go!”

You and Jimin quickly got to unwrapping all of the goods. You were in charge of putting the house together as Jimin thought about how to decorate. The icing that held the walls together looked a bit messy, but you could cover that up with even more frosting.

“Wanna start icing the details and I’ll add the candy?” Jimin suggested.

“Yes chef,” you nodded and got back to work.

Jimin delicately added gumdrops and mints to the roof and added licorice to line the windows. You moved on to take care of the front yard. You added candy canes to make an arches along the front walkway, which was lined with kisses. More and more candy was being added onto the house up until Jin’s timer rang.

“Time’s up! Step away from the houses! Let’s start from this side with Jungkook and Taehyung’s house,” Jin announced.

“It’s certainly...avant garde,” Jimin commented. Icing was piped around the house in intricate patterns and candy was strewn across the house with no rhyme or reason.

“We didn’t want to be confined to the cookie cutter gingerbread house norms,” Taehyung said proudly.

“I can’t tell the windows apart from the door,” Namjoon whispered.

“You’re not supposed to!” Jungkook snapped, “Our house is anything you want to imagine.”

“Alright, moving on-- what the hell? Did you guys even try?” Jin shot a disgusted glare at the SOPE team.

“In my defense, I haven’t had dinner yet,” Yoongi shrugged.

“And I thought it wasn’t fair that only Yoongi got to eat it so I joined him,” Hoseok hung his head. 

You stifled your laughter as you looked at their plate. Candies were piled up and the house laid unconstructed with many bites taken out of it. Jin shook his head and continued to present his house, which honestly was not much better than his friends’ lack of a house.

“This one was my bad,” Namjoon rubbed the back of his neck.

The gingerbread house looked like it was struggling to stand up. The walls were lopsided and the icing was messily laced around the entire thing.

“I wanted to go for a White Christmas look and have the roof be completely covered with the icing. But thanks to Namjoon’s sloppy work, it got too heavy and the house started to fall apart--” the house collapsed right as Jin said that.

“___ and I made a picture perfect gingerbread house,” Jimin boasted. It was true. Your house looked like it was done by a professional. The icing was well done and the candies were placed in all the right places. No one else made a front lawn like you guys.

“It looks like we have a clear winner,” Jin nodded.

“Good try guys, better luck next time,” Jungkook stepped up to claim the prize.

“___ and Jimin are the winners,” Jin handed you the giftcard while looking at Jungkook in disbelief. 

“Woohoo! Great job __!” Jimin cheered and hugged you tightly. You once again caught a whiff of his cologne and felt yourself melting in his arms. 

“Boo! Lames!” Jungkook yelled at you both.

“Wait, is it snowing?” Yoongi said as he looked out the window.

Sure enough, white flurries were swirling around as snow landed on the ground. It must have been snowing for a bit, as it was actually sticking to the ground and there was at least an inch of it. 

“Let’s go let’s go!” Jimin took your hand and dragged you to the elevator.

“You too, Jin. I wanna pelt my RA in the face,” Jungkook stuck his tongue out at Jin.

“Oh you’re on, kid. Let’s go boys,” Jin motioned to his friends.

Cold air whipped across your face as soon as you walked outside. You weren’t wearing nearly enough warm layers and the cold chilled you to the bone.You stuck your tongue out to catch snowflakes as you shivered. Jimin wrapped his arms around you, catching you off guard.

“Cold?” he whispered in your ear.

“Maybe a little,” you admitted as you felt your ears warm up. Right as you said that, a small white ball exploded on your chest. Jungkook had his signature bunny smile plastered on his face as he laughed hysterically. He was on a rampage, and you laughed as you watched him chase Jin around with a gigantic snowball.

“Oh, it’s on!” Jimin yelled at him as he started to form ammunition of his own. 

You went to stake your own tiny claim of land to make snowballs in. Taehyung was running around with an arm full, pelting anyone in sight. Endless bouts of laughter echoed outside of the dormitory as you and your friends engaged in an intense snowball fight. There was no clear winner, but no one could feel their extremities by the end of it.

“Alright alright truce! You kids go take a hot shower before you get sick. I don’t wanna get blamed for anyone having an unpleasant holiday season,” Jin finally shooed all of his kids out of the snow. 

“I can’t believe this. Why do my parents have to come pick me up a day early?” Jungkook complained as he sprawled out on his bed.

“Because they love you and are excited to see you, Kookie. Don’t worry, we’ll have plenty of time to partake in more shenanigans next semester,” you patted his ankle in reassurance.

“If you’re leaving, then I’ll probably drive home today too. I miss Tannie,” Taehyung sighed.

“Why? ___ and Jimin are still here. You guys can have fun without me,” Jungkook pouted. Jimin and Taehyung exchanged a quick glance at each other before Taehyung talked about how much he missed his adorable little fluffy companion. 

“I’m telling you, you have to sneak Tannie over here next semester,” you joked. 

“He’ll get too excited and bark. Jin is chill, but probably not that chill,” Taehyung said somberly, “But don’t worry! We can take a field trip to my house next semester for sure. My mom makes the best food.”

“I can’t wait buddy,” Jimin smiled as Jungkook finally got out of bed to start packing. All three of you saw Jungkook off once his family came to pick him up. His mother was sweet and you could tell that he got his charisma from his father. Taehyung hugged both of you goodbye and you watched him drive off.

“Guess it’s just us left huh,” Jimin observed.

“What do you wanna do? It’s not even 11am yet,” you checked the time, “Oh! How do you wanna split up the gift card? It’s a visa so it can be used anywhere.”

“Why don’t we spend it together? That way it’s fair. What do you say to one final outing to commemorate the end of a great semester?” Jimin offered.

“Sounds good! Do you wanna stay on campus or?” you trailed off.

“I have an idea,” Jimin nodded, “But it’s a surprise! Meet in my room after we get dressed? Change into something a little warmer.”

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes.

You showed up in front of Jimin’s door wearing a cozy sweater a couple minutes later. You also sprayed on some of your favorite perfume, but he probably wouldn’t notice. Nor would he notice the extra effort you put into styling your hair. 

“Hey you ready to have some fun?” Jimin greeted you with a smile, “You look...nice.”

“Thanks, you too. Now will you tell me where we’re going?” you asked.

“I’ll tell you on the way. C’mon let’s go catch the train!” Jimin led you by the hand down the hallway yet again.

The way he said that you looked nice made you feel self conscious. He had the same tone that people have when someone really doesn’t look nice but they were too far into the sentence to correct themselves. Now sitting together on the train, you wondered if you were wearing too much perfume.

“How do you feel about ice skating?” Jimin asked.

“I love it. Haven’t done it in a while though,” you answered.

“Perfect! I realize I probably should’ve made sure you enjoy skating before surprising you with it,” Jimin laughed nervously.

“This still makes for a fine impromptu date,” you laughed with him before realizing what you said.

“Date?”

“Sure is weird not having those two around causing a scene!” you interrupted him.

“Um, yeah. They’re good dudes,” Jimin awkwardly agreed.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. You finally get some alone time with Jimin and you’re making it all weird. The other boys always made sure there was never a dull moment during your escapades. You wished they were here right now.

“This is our stop,” Jimin tapped on your knee.

The snow had stuck overnight, making everything that the sun touched glisten. Your spirits lifted as you walked around the decorated town, the festivity of everything seeped into you. Christmas lights were strung up everywhere, and there were big red bows on nearly everything. 

“You good? You seem kinda out of it,” Jimin nudged you. 

“Oh yeah, I’m fine! Don’t worry about it,” you shot him a fake smile.

“Hey, don’t lie to me. I’d like to think I know you better than that. What’s wrong?” Jimin prodded.

“It’s nothing really. It’s silly, believe me,” you replied quickly.

“___,” Jimin said in a serious tone.

“I didn’t mean to say ‘date’. It was just a stupid slip up and I guess I was worried about making this awkward when you’re really just trying to be a good friend and--”

“This is a date,” Jimin stated.

“It--what?” you were surprised.

“The boys and I have been planning this since last month. We figured it would be the only natural way for us to spend time together. Alone,” Jimin blushed as he looked at the ground.

“If you wanted to make it seem natural then you probably shouldn’t have disguised it as an accidental stroke of luck,” you crossed your arms, “And the way you said I looked nice earlier made me feel like I’ve had something on my face this whole time.”

“No no! You really do look nice! I was actually gonna say super cute but I chickened out. Aw, ___, you look lovely. I’m sorry I made you self conscious,” Jimin pulled you in for a hug, “I’ve liked you for a while, but I was scared that you didn’t feel the same way. If this makes you uncomfortable, we can just forget about this whole date thing and just skate as friends,” he whispered. 

“I was scared of ruining the group so I never wanted to tell you that I like you,” you responded once the hug ended.

“I guess we both goofed. So can we call this an official date?” Jimin asked with a hopeful smile.

“Yes, yes we can,” you laughed.

“Sweet. Since it’s a date, can I hold your hand?” Jimin held out his hand and you happily took it. He led you to the ice rink as you both laughed and made fun of each other for being so coy for the entire semester.

“So how long have you liked me?” you asked.

“Would it be cheesy to say since I first laid eyes on you?”

“Yes.”

“Then since I first laid eyes on you,” Jimin was pleased with his answer.

“And the other two knew?” 

“The entire time,” Jimin confirmed, “It was actually Taehyung who came up with this plan.”

“Why didn’t you just ask me out normally?” you tilted your head.

“Honestly, we never thought of that,” Jimin admitted.

“You boys are all so dumb,” you laughed.

“True, but it worked!” Jimin defended, “We’re here! You got the gift card on you?”

After paying for the ice skate rentals, it was now you leading Jimin into the ice rink. It had been a while since you last skated, and you were eager to glide across the ice again. You dragged Jimin behind you as you trudged forward.

“Do you not know how to skate?” you looked back at him.

“I do, but this is more fun,” Jimin smiled. You let go of his hand and took off. You laughed as he struggled to chase you. His version of skating was more like inching forward very very slowly with the grace of a newborn deer. You skated circles around him to tease him. The teasing continued until you both wore yourselves out (and your rental time was up). 

“That was fun,” you announced happily.

“Speak for yourself, I lost track of how many times I fell on my butt,” Jimin rubbed his backside with a sad frown.

“7 times. And you fell onto your knees 3 times,” you informed him, “Do you wanna grab something to eat to make you feel better?”

“Some hot chocolate would smack right now,” he nodded.  

 “Let’s go get you warmed up big boy. Wanna go to Starbucks or something?” 

“I have some hot chocolate back in the dorm. Can we heat that up and watch a movie?” Jimin asked sweetly. You nodded and made your way back to the train station. You leaned onto Jimin’s shoulder on the way back, enjoying your new freedom to be a little flirty with him.

Once back in Jimin’s dorm room, you made the hot chocolate while he changed into pants that didn’t have ice all over them. Both of you snuggled together on Jimin’s bed while Die Hard played on his laptop (believe it or not, that counts as a Christmas movie). 

“Would you say today’s date was a success?” Jimin asked before taking a sip of his drink.

“I’d say so. I think we get along well,” you nodded.

“Well that’s a relief. I can take you on more next semester if that’s okay with you,” he looked into your eyes.

“That’s perfectly fine with me,” you smiled before kissing his cheek. This semester definitely ended on a high note. Tis the season.

Published December 25, 2020. No editing, copying, translating, or reposting allowed. All Rights Reserved © 2020 Baepsaesbae.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Yours, Mine, and Ours [2]

Part 1

Warnings: noncon sex Our boys are questionable in this.

This is dark!Steve AND dark!Bucky and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: Steve, Bucky, and the reader come to terms with what happened.

Notes: Okay, so here’s another part, will be at least one more. Feedback would help though in deciding how far I wanna go with this series. I’m really enjoying it this far! And you all are too!

Also, maybe reblog and or comment :) It’s your call but I would forever love you.

��

Steve took the cloth from Bucky and gently wiped away the mess from Y/N’s face. Next he cleaned between her legs, a mumble from her as she weakly pushed herself up. The shock was wearing away. Her eyes were glassy as they looked around. She blinked as she turned to him and he bunched up the damp cloth. He could sense Bucky not far behind. She spotted him and drew her knees to her chest shyly.

“You got a shirt I can put on her?” Steve asked as he reached out and caresses her cheek. “She’s tired. I should get her to bed.”

Bucky moved around and the open and close of a drawer creaked. Steve took the grey tee as it was offered over his shoulder. He opened up the neck hole and pushed it over Y/N’s head. She clumsily found the arm holes and the shirt fell down her torso. Steve took her hand and stood. He pulled her up with him and tossed the rag to Bucky.

“Jesus, Buck, you can get dressed,” He grumbled. His friend shrugged and backed away. “Come on, sweetheart.”

Steve headed for the door, his arm slid around his girl’s waist as he held her close. He paused as he opened the door and turned back to Bucky. “We need to talk.”

“I know,” Bucky replied. He had the grace to at least look guilty.

Steve nodded and ushered Y/N into the hall, the door clicked behind him loudly. It was barely bedtime but he suspected it was best for her to lie down. Best for him to think.

He was relieved to reach her room without running into anyone else. She was silent; stiff in his arms. He led her inside and helped her to the bed. He tucked her in under the duvet and sat beside her on the bed. He leaned against the headboard and sighed.

“I told you…why didn’t you listen?” She spoke at last. Her voice was thin.

“I…made a mistake. I was angry; hurt. The thought that you would–” He stopped and clamped his lips together as she rolled over. She made a show of turning her back to him. “I love you.”

Silence. He waited as the air grew tense. He slowly lifted his hand and rested it on the crest of her hip. She flinched but spoke at last. “I love you too…do you believe me?”

Steve hung his hand but kept his hand against her. He was confused. He didn’t really feel all that bad. He was relieved that she hadn’t been unfaithful but not ashamed of his assumption. Of his maltreatment. He felt a stirring in his pants as he pondered it. The look on her face as Bucky fucked her. He had seen it before; he had inspired that precious tremble in her lip. She had orgasmed, more than once. He had kept count as best he could. He had cum down her throat just watching her desecration. It had felt so delicious.

Bucky’s words echoed in his head. ‘We share everything, don’t we?’ Steve’s other hand went to his jeans and rubbed. He wanted to pull back the covers and fuck her himself. He wanted to feel her between him and Bucky. Trapped and tormented in her pleasure. He hadn’t thought of it before but it was so obvious. He had always told Bucky 'what’s mine is yours’. He closed his eyes and thought of her bent over the chair. He shuddered and rescinded his hand before he could squeeze her hip. He was about ready to hold her down again.

Where had this come from? He wondered. In their more intimate moments, he could be blunt, but mostly loving. He always made certain she was comfortable and she paid him the same courtesy. He had violated all of that. Tainted the sanctuary of their bodies.

“Sweetheart,” He said quietly. She didn’t respond. “I’m gonna go for a walk. I’ll be back, okay?”

She shrugged and he took that as ascent. He stood and she tugged the blankets higher. He left her without a second glance. He dragged his feet through the halls, thinking of what he had discovered in Bucky’s room. A drawer of her panties, a bra even, and photos. Steve was in some of the photos too. It had been startling, but more so alluring. To have something that another desired. To be envied, rather than envious.

He knocked on Bucky’s door. This time he waited. It was a few moments before it opened. Bucky welcomed him in with a gestures. Y/N’s lace panties were on his pillow. Steve held in a chuckle. He crossed to the bed and lifted the pink thong.

“You could’ve told me.” Steve felt the warm fabric. He had interrupted.

“Would you have still thrown her at my feet?” Bucky challenged.

“I would’ve understood. Or tried to.” He turned back to his friend. He held out the panties. “I mean, you’re right. We do share everything.”

“Even her?” Bucky ventured.

“Show me.” Bucky frowned at the terse command. “All of it. Everything you’ve taken.”

Bucky stayed silent and went to his dresser. He took out the whole drawer and dropped it on the bed. Steve followed and sat on the other side of it. Bucky hovered over him as he reached in and plucked out each pair of panties one at a time. He counted fifteen pairs. Most were visibly worn; others were stained with cum. It didn’t bother him too much as he tossed them aside.

Next were the photos. Most of them were from the same angle. Dozens of Y/N sleeping, changing, reading. Everyday things. Then there were the others. Several of her with Steve. The one of him fucking her on the chair really got him; the arch of her back as she knelt on the cushion and braced the back. Finally, a single frame of her alone; her hand down the front of her panties.

“Where’s the footage?” He asked pointedly. “Camera’s just above the window by the looks of it.”

“Steve.” Bucky said weakly.

“I wanna see it,” Steve urged, “Show me.”

Bucky gulped and grabbed the thin laptop from his messy desk. He obviously didn’t use it for more than piling up random possessions and his viewing sessions. He hit the button and booted it up before setting it before Steve. He paced anxiously as Steve began to peruse the footage.

He whirred through the video at double time. It was odd watching her like this. She emerged from the washroom fresh from a shower and removed her towel to dry her hair. Faster. He appeared in frame. He remembered this. He slowed the footage as he had her on her back. Her legs were against his torso as he stood at the side of the bed. He grasped her thighs as she clawed the tangled blankets. She was so fucking hot. Watching himself like this, he recalled her and Bucky not an hour ago. He wondered what it would look like with her between both of them.

“We won’t tell her about the camera,” Steve closed the laptop. “You will apologize to her about the panties.” He set aside the computer and gathered up the photos. He held them out to Bucky. “She’ll be fine.”

“I’m sorry, Steve, I couldn’t help myself–”

“I know.” Steve clapped Bucky’s shoulder.  "Next time, tell me and we can arrange something.“

"You’re serious?” Bucky’s mouth fell open and he accepted the stack of photos.

“I don’t mind sharing. But you know I don’t like secrets.”

“Y/N is okay with this?” Bucky asked.

“She will be. Trust me.” Steve smirked. “She was very responsive to you. Took me a while to get her like that. You know, the early stages of a relationship, so shy. But with you…” He neared the door, his cock throbbed in his pants. “Here.” He threw the panties at Bucky. “I’ll se ya later.”

-

When Steve left, you could breathe again. You were reeling still. You should be mad at him, shouldn’t you? Should hate him. But you couldn’t. When he had said he loved you, you couldn’t help but echo him. You did love him. You had done so for nearly three years. You couldn’t just let him go.

And beneath the fear and humiliation, you had to admit that it had felt good. Even if you hadn’t asked for it, something inside of you had wanted it. Unknowingly. Your body had happily accepted it all. The flutter of nerves as you thought of it assured you of your complicity.

Bucky had been different than Steve. Firmer. But Steve in himself had been different that day. His anger had made him gruff. Bucky had touched you with a reverence. Even in the rougher moments, his eyes had looked upon you as if you were beauty incarnate. A longing finally fulfilled.

How long had it been? How long had you been ignorant of his admiration? His obsession? How had he gotten hold of your panties? 'You should teach her to lock her door.’ That’s what he had told Steve. He had been in your room. Invaded your space. You hadn’t even noticed the missing underwear. You had been so oblivious. You had made yourself an easy target.

After an hour. Maybe less, maybe more. You pushed away the covers and climbed out of bed. Your movement was mechanical; instinctual. You paid little attention as you entered the bathroom and cranked on the shower. You paused and felt the hem of the grey tee. It smelled like Bucky. Or maybe you did. The ache still nestled between your legs.

You swooped the shirt over your head and tossed it on the floor. You stepped into the shower and slid shut the glass door. Steam rose around you as you disassembled beneath the searing stream. Your muscles loosened and you carefully reached between your legs. Your thighs were tender to the touch. As you slid your hands around to your ass, you flinched. The impact of Steve’s palm lingered.

You hung your head and sighed. You should be mortified. This tingle in your core shouldn’t be there. It should be a pit in your stomach. You closed your eyes and thought of the scene again. You couldn’t stop thinking of it. Bucky’s fingers on your clit, his cock inside of you, Steve watching; barking orders. His voice was cold but fueled by heat.

Your eyes snapped open as you ripped your hand away from your pussy. When had your fingers settled on your bud? You held up your hands and washed away your shame. You heard a noise and looked through the misted glass. A tall silhouette stood on the other side. It stripped away its layers. The door glided open and Steve stepped in behind you.

The door clicked shut and he pressed himself to your back. He was hard again. You weren’t sure he had ever softened. You grabbed your loofah and soap. You foamed up the puff and began to scrub wordlessly.

“Do you feel better?” He asked.

You shrugged and raised your leg to rinse it. He reached past you and took the loofah from you and rubbed it in circles along your back. It was as if he were cleansing both of you.

“Are you hurt?” He bent to wash your ass and legs. His touch was soft.

“Sore,” You answered. “I… you just needed an excuse, didn’t you? To let him do that?”

He sighed deeply. He hung the loofah back on its hook. “I don’t know…” He grabbed your shoulders and turned you to face him. “But something in me wanted that.” He cradled your face as the shower hit the back of your head and dripped down your shoulders. “And I could tell you did too.”

You looked down. You closed your eyes as you saw his erection. You shuddered as you tried to withhold your own arousal.

“How many times did you cum? Three? Four? More if my count is correct.” He pulled you close.

“This isn’t you. This isn’t us.” You pleaded. With him. With yourself.

“Tell me you didn’t cum once,” His arm slipped and his hand pressed against your vee. “Don’t lie. I’ll know.” You looked to the wall; an obvious tell. “It’s okay to like it. To enjoy ourselves.”

“Steve,” You pouted, “I don’t wanna talk about it.” You hugged him and pressed your head to his firm chest. “I’m tired.”

“Okay,” He acquiesced, “We can wait… let me get you to bed.”

-

Steve slept in your bed. You wore a striped cotton night shirt and he wore nothing at all. Even as his snores rumbled beside you, he remained hard. He was insatiable. Something deep within him had emerged but you couldn’t decide if you were alarmed or aroused. At least, your body couldn’t. Every time you closed your eyes, you felt Bucky inside of you. Steve too. His cock down your throat as you dreamt of the scene. Of new scenes. The two of them bending your body to their will.

In your mind, you were between them. Writhing and ranting. You wanted more as the buzz formed between your legs. Your walls were stretched as Bucky slammed in and out of you, Steve’s hands on your tits as his cock filled your throat. The moan that hummed around his length roused you. Slowly, you floated back to consciousness. Swirls tickled your clit; a bloom building and building.

Your eyes opened in a flutter. Steve’s fingers were clamped between your legs as he caressed you. He stoked the fire that had never truly died. The one you wanted so to ignore. His cock was pressed against your ass, his breath hot on your scalp. He growled as he sensed your awakening. You parted your legs just slightly. You were tired; desperate for release. To forget it all and just lose yourself in the high.

“Shh,” His voice was thick with sleep, “Just relax.” He continued to twirl his finger around your bud and you gasped. Your moans grew louder and longer as he plucked at your nerves. Your rocked your pelvis against his hand, his shaft rubbed against your ass. “Are you thinking of him? It’s okay if you are. I want you to.”

You squeezed your eyes shut and gripped your pillow. The thought of Bucky made you tingle. You bit your lip as you clung to the image; the memory of him inside of you. “Mmmmmmm,” Steve sped up and your hips spasmed. “Yeeaaa-uhh.” He nibbled on your ear, his torso sweaty against your back. “B-B-Bucky…”

“That’s it,” The gush flowed around his fingers as you came. You could hear the slick friction as he spread your cum around. You panted and pushed your ass against him as the river washed over you. “Now…” He removed his hand and tossed the blankets aside. They slumped to the edge of the mattress and slipped to the floor. “Now it’s my turn. Just me.” He lifted your leg over his and positioned his cock at your entrance. You arched your back deeper. “Say my name.”

“Steve,” You whispered and he poked at your entrance. “Steve,” You said louder. He dragged his tip along your folds. “Steve,” Your tone turned desperate.

“Yes,” He purred and aligned himself.

He entered you slowly. Each inch brushed deliciously against your walls and you trembled against him. As he bottomed out you whined and he moved your leg to press it firm around his shaft. He began to move in easy thrusts. His hand ran the length of your body, gliding over pelvis, hip, stomach and breast. His fingers spread across your neck and he pulled your head back against his shoulder.

He fucked you gently but with purpose. His breath filled the air, the warmth glowed around your bodies. He had fucked you like this many mornings. You recalled the time in Tony’s villa; before you had told everyone about your relationship. He had snuck into your room and Nat had almost walked in on you. Just like this. Well, not entirely. There was something more to his intimacy. A new animalism. His grip tightened on your neck as his grunts came deeper and deeper; thrusts ever more deliberate.

“Will you fuck Bucky again?” He asked as your pussy swelled around him. “For me?”

“Yes, yes,” You said frantically. He felt like heaven. You thought of Bucky and how he had felt. Slightly thicker but not as long. Rougher. “However you want me. I’ll fuck him. I’ll—” You choked as his hand got even tighter in his excitement. “–fuck both of you. Both, both, bo–”

Your air was cut off entirely as he choked you without relent. He hammered into you and his flesh thundered against yours; mingled with your gurgles and his groans. Your head was heavy but your didn’t mind. The stars in your vision sparked with those in your pelvis and your orgasm swept through you in a flash.

Steve let go of your neck and rolled you onto your stomach; following swiftly. His hands went to your hips and he lifted his pelvis and dropped it violently with each thrust. Your ass burned from the previous night as he pounded into you. You murmured into the pillows as your saliva coated the linen. Another climax as he chased his own.

“So good. You’re so good.” He buried his head next to yours and his strokes slowed. His cock twitched and signalled his impending peak. “I love you. I love you…” His cum flared without you, “So much.” He sank into you entirely as his cum added to your fullness.

“I…” You were breathless as you turned your head to look back at him. “…love you, too.”

-

Bucky watched the screen intently. He was hunched over at his small desk, his hand on his cock as his strokes grew more and more frantic. The motion sensor had alerted him to their rise. Not that they had left the bed. At first, nothing more than a stir under the blankets. Then Steve had done him a favour and kicked back the covers. Y/N arched and welcomed him. Bucky imagined it was him in the bed with her. Or that he was on the other side of her.

Steve entered her slowly and Bucky’s hand fell to his cock. It wasn’t long before he pulled himself out over his sweatpants. He cupped his balls with his metal hand. His own touch was nothing compared to her pussy. She had been so warm; so snug. She fit him so well. Steve held her around the neck and it was all too much. He could hear her now; struggling to breath. He was rather gifted at imagining.

The moment Steve turned her onto her stomach, Bucky knew he was done. Only a few more strokes and he was spilling onto his knuckles and along the front of his pants. He hung his head back and gritted his teeth. He caught his breath and looked back to the screen just as Steve slowed his own motion. His ass tensed as he came inside her.

He wasn’t done. Steve started moving again. He fucked her on her stomach until she came over and over. Then he sat back on his haunches and took her with him. He fucked her on her knees and her body quivered beautifully. Bucky didn’t miss a single second. All the while he worked his unwavering erection. He came again and added to the puddle along the wrinkle in his pants.

They parted at last and Bucky closed the laptop. He took his pants off carefully and tossed them in the basket of dirty clothes. He walked naked to his bathroom and turned on the shower. He jerked off again. He couldn’t help himself. He pictured her before him under the stream; hands planted against the tile as she presented her luscious ass to him. He wondered if Steve had ever tried her other hole? Would he let him?

When Bucky was finally clean, at least physically, he dried himself and returned to the bedroom. He dressed in jeans and a plain tee. As he pulled on a pair of socks, a knock came at the door. Was it her? Or Steve? Maybe both of them? He crossed the room and greeted his visitor.

Steve entered without waiting for a welcome. He looked around with his knowing smirk before settling on Bucky. “Did you enjoy the show?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes. He eyed Steve before he mustered a reply. It wasn’t a challenge; there was no malice in the question. Only collusion. “I did,” Bucky assured him with a grin as he closed the door.

“We’ll let her linger a few days.” Steve said grimly. “It’ll be hard. I’m sure you could tell I struggled to leave her.”

“You were serious?” Bucky raised a brow.

“Yes,” Steve nodded eagerly. “But we should lay down some rules. To make this arrangement beneficial to all.”

“Sure,” Bucky backed away and sat on the chair as Steve paced along the end of the bed. There was stain still at the edge of the duvet. Y/N’s cum crusted the charcoal fabric. “Anything you want, buddy.”

“No meeting without my say.” Steve began. Bucky could tell he had thought it out. “If I’m away and you feel the urge, ask. I’m more likely to say yes then no but the moment you deceive me, I will never say yes again.”

“Okay,” Bucky waited for him to continue.

“If I say stop, you stop.” Steve instructed. “Don’t do anything I don’t tell you too. Pussy and mouth are fine. The ass…well, I still haven’t gone that far. To be honest, I didn’t want to push it. I wanted to but…. I love her. This is as much about her as us.”

“Of course,” Bucky bit his lip. “I’d never–”

“I know. I can tell you care for her,” Steve neared the dresser, the drawer of secreted panties and photos replaced in its slot. “In your own way.” He turned back and leaned against the painted wood. “No kissing.” Bucky made to argue but Steve’s sharp eyes silenced him. “I mean it. This woman….she’s gonna be my wife one day, Buck. She’s still mine.”

Bucky lowered his eyes and thought. He rubbed his hands together as he looked back to Steve. “How long do we have to wait?”

“A week. I know, long. But we need her to wait. She’ll be desperate. Wild, even.” Steve sounded almost giddy. “And it will give us time to prepare. We need to decide on a neutral ground. Maybe outside of Stark Tower when we can. We could rent a room…” He was thinking out loud now and Bucky was content to listen; to imagine. “Not that we won’t meet here but it would be nice to have a place of our own. And we should get some toys.”

“I don’t really need those,” Bucky intoned.

“Oh trust me, you do.” Steve chuckled. “You found the vibe, didn’t you? That’s hers. I don’t really use it but she uses it when I’m gone. Sometimes in front of me…when she’s drunk.” Bucky could see the bulge forming in Steve’s pants and his own was growing too. “Binds, cuffs, tape, plugs…I’ve seen leashes even. Oh, lube of course, though she’s never had trouble getting wet.”

Bucky smiled and licked his lips. He squirmed in his seat and Steve made no show of hiding his erection. “You got any other girls?” Steve asked suddenly.

“No, I…”

“Good. As long as this goes on, no one else. Understood?” Steve pointed at him staunchly.

“No one,” Bucky vowed, “There’s no one but her.”

“Okay, then,” Steve pushed himself away from the dressed. “Grab a jacket. We got work to do.”

+

tags: @chaotic-buck @queenie4ce @rubberbucky @wonderthor @msdmc1 @meaganottiz02 @brigidwolf @patzammit @thepettyavenger @biasedtittes @thosecikinnn @sathlens @glitterypinkkitty @thoughtlesstales @selinbaskaya @lattaex @vitamingrant @lilithhellfire @bbyspiiice @ironlady1993 @blackpantherimagines @kweenkxtrina @heavenlyblyss @letsagomario @shikin83 @collette04 @thirstyforsomeyandere @secretlyactivated @xxm3xxj @roses-and-absinthe @asleep-amid-the-flowers @sunstarskyhappiness @xxxelettaxxx @honeyofthegods @rainbowkisses31@alphabloodfur @xdatbitch @quant-um-fizzx @couldntbedamned @scarletlingeries @directionerfae @bodhi-black @kyllorren @captainarp @sargeant-bbarnes @tuyetnhivo @heartislubbingdubbing @kiwihoee @vanishingod @aekr @purpliepanda @infernalbarnes @lazinessisalliknow @grossceleste @fkngparadise @karabear0091 @jordysgirl87 @amelia-acero @praziameia @steadypetty @shayrey @spn-marvel-nerd @kissedbythedarkness @fandomkolors @biba3434 @brokensunflowersworld @marvel-fan23 @hannahxem @noteyebox @titty-teetee @irritatinglilliputian @educationalandphysicalmess @tuyetnhivo @thosecikinnn @mrsbarneswillseeyounow @crownofrowan @couldntbedamned @hardygal69 @hannahxem @imkloeyjarvis @hana-song137 @mochachoka @bemyvalentineforeverandever @thethortoisein221b @breezy1415 @alexakeyloveloki @beautiful-and-strange @phoenix21love @momc95 @buckycaptspideypool @justballoonfishthings @ms-munchkin @whosmarisaaarw @kxllyxnnx @destiel-is–endgame @calspixie @amethyst-the-thot @docharleythegeekqueen @iiqueer-vibesii @carol-dark-vers @l0rd-disick @jilldsumner @hufflebucky @lanabanana-86 @nerdypinupcrystal @notyourtypicalrose @pink1031 @agent-spidey @wassupbitchesssss @lucifersnipnips @supernaturalonice @stuckybarton @ruff-m3rc @heartbeats-wildly @tea-with-seb @the-lululemon @abesottedlass @poppyshawn @obsesseds-world @jazztherebel @holylulusworld @yagurlrosie @heartislubbingdubbing @desir-ae @adreamemporium @ashrod98 @buckyxwintersxldier @spaghettirogers @buckybarneshairpullingkink @kastheabsolutepessimist @daggersofloki @odinson-barnes @marvelmaree @they-call-me-le @wintersoldier1017  @supernaturaldean67 @basementcafe @periodtcevans

[jughead-is-canonically-aroace]

The Man Who Was Too Awkward To Mention He Had Amnesia

i wrote this for @spookyson-zine! the art is by @katanacupcake-art

summary: yknow that one john mulaney bit where he’s like “if i had amnesia no one would ever know because when someone you don’t recognize acts like they know you you pretend you know them and pray you remember”? like that

pairing: moxiety

wordcount: 3952

disclaimer: this is a rom-com. it is not attempting to be an accurate portrayal of amnesia or post-coma recovery or medical practice. creative liberties have been taken.

Virgil, upon awakening, knew approximately three things: his name, the fact that he was horizontal, and that there were at least two people in the room with him. He could tell that last bit from the loud sobbing and comforting noises coming from his right.

“It’s not your fault, Patton. He’ll wake up soon, and he’ll tell you.”

Virgil opened his eyes. He was in a rather brightly white room. To his left, a soft, roundish man in a blue sweater covered in puppies and kittens sat in a folding chair, crying into a handkerchief. A man in truly ridiculous amount of glittery gold eyeshadow and a violently red sweater had his arms wrapped around the other in comfort, whilst a man in a dress shirt and tie sat primly and somberly in a third chair near his feet.

This was all he registered before the three noticed his open eyes and the soft one (Patton?) launched himself forwards with a cry of relief.

Smothered in hugs and with a warm, fond feeling filling him as he hugged back and a kiss was pressed to his hair, Virgil thought, I love him. And then: This must be my boyfriend.

—

Virgil was discharged from the hospital within the hour* and was quickly piled into the backseat of a bright red convertible with Patton. Business Casual watched him over his shoulder from the passenger seat as Glitter Eyeshadow (I really need to figure out their names) started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, but as they turned onto the freeway he turned back forwards, apparently satisfied with what he had (or hadn’t) seen.

“Roman, would you please put the top up?”

“Do you not enjoy the feeling of the wind in your hair? The sensation of speed? The taste of adventure??”

“No.”

Roman put the top up, and Virgil noted his name with relief. Two down, one to go.

As Virgil settled against the window, staring out at the swiftly passing shrubbery and rough-cut rock lining the road, he recalled what the doctor had told him**.

“You were hit by an ATV at an intersection where you had right of way. All your medical bills have been handled by the other driver. You, miraculously, received only minor-to-moderate abrasions and contusions, aside from a rather nasty head wound, and appear to have no lasting effects.” The doctor smiled down at Virgil, and he briefly attempted to say “Actually, I do have one extremely present lasting effect,” but the doctor breezed onward without giving him a chance. “You were extremely lucky, Mr. Sanders.”

Ten minutes later, they were pulling into the driveway of a suburban 4-bedroom house.

—

[ID: 3 panel comic, panels stacked. virgil is upstairs, anxiously looking at different bedroom doors and trying to figure out which one is his, saying “Huh…” He’s wearing a black hoodie and the background is purple. A fly flies past behind his head.

The first door has a banner that reads “PRINCE”, a crown, and sparkles. it is captioned “No”. the second is a blank door. it is captioned “Maybe.” the third is covered in flowers and hearts, and has a unicorn on it. it is captioned “No!”. the fourth is also blank. it is captioned “...Maybe?”

Virgil closes his eyes, looking nervy yet determined. he is thinking “Well... There’s only one thing left to do...”

end ID]

[ID: 3 panel comic, panels stacked. virgil is in the living room, sitting on the couch and waiting for a clue for which room is his. He looks very anxious, thinking “This is fine.” there are sweat/nerves emotes around his head and he is blushing. there is a houseplant on a stand to the left and a red lamp on a side table to the right. the background is purple.

There’s a closeup on virgil’s face in profile. he is thinking “All I have to do is wait until four-eyes picks one of our less obvious rooms.” he is on the right and facing left, and there is a stylized drawing of logan’s face with angry eyebrows and a frown on the left. the background is a black-white gradient fading into the middle, with black emphasis lines pointing into the middle.

Patton suddenly appears beside virgil and says “HEY!!”, startling him. a zig of surprise emote and the word “zoinks!” are beside virgil’s head, and his eyes are boggling. patton’s face is stylized like a cat emote, with a 3 mouth and greater/less than signs for eyes. patton is wearing a blue shirt with a red cardigan tied around his shoulders. patton’s speech is in white bubble letters, and emphasized with many exclamation marks and a tilde. the background is purple.

end ID]

[ID: 5 panel comic, with panels 1, 4, and 5 stacked, and panels 2 and 3 stacked next to panel 1. Virgil flops over sideways onto patton’s lap. patton is sitting on the couch and virgil is curled stiffly on his side. they are stylized. the background is white.

A stylized icon of patton’s surprised face is looking down, with a loading bar next to his head, and a pink circle behind him. the background is white. Below that, the same stylized icon of patton’s face is happy and smiling, surrounded by yellow flowers and delight emotes. it is captioned “cuddle time!”

Next is a shot of virgil’s face where he is lying down. he is thinking “Wow this guy definitely is my boyfriend...” he is blushing, and looking to the left. there are white hearts around him and the background is navy blue.

A view from behind the couch over logan’s shoulder shows the stylized back of patton’s head surrounded by delight emotes and yellow flowers. logan’s face is in the right of the panel, looking suspiciously at the camera. it is captioned “suspicious A F” with a curly arrow pointing at logan.

end ID]

—

Later…

Virgil followed Patton up the stairs. They stopped in front of one of the blank doors. Please please please let this be my room and this not just be Patton stopping in front of the upstairs bathroom door or in front of Business Casual’s door for some reason or maybe I completely misjudged him and this is HIS room- “Well,” said Patton, “Goodnight! Sleep well!” With a final hug, he turned and crossed the hall back to the sticker-encrusted door, stepping inside, and Virgil nodded with a quiet “You too.”

Virgil tried to convince himself to try the door, but the imminent fear that Business Casual would appear, find him breaking into his room, and immediately unearth him as an amnesiac imposter and no longer the friend they knew and loved and kick him out on the street with only the clothes on his back and he’d have to resort to dealing drugs at Denny’s-

Business Casual, dressed in actual pajamas patterned with actual erlenmeyer flasks and test tubes of bright liquids, stepped out of the bathroom at the end of the hall and walked past him to the other blank door, opening it. He paused, and turned back. “Virgil, are you alright?”

“Yes! Fine!” Virgil jolted into motion and opened the door before him, stepping inside and turning to close it quickly. He caught a glimpse of Actual Chemistry Pajamas’ face, confused, mildly concerned, and contemplative, as he closed the door.

Virgil turned to look at his room.

Posters for The Nightmare Before Christmas and Welcome to Night Vale hung on one wall, while album covers for My Chemical Romance, Gorillaz, and a myriad of other bands covered another. An easel with a black canvas stood in a corner next to a bucket of oil paints, surrounded by a drop cloth. Next to it, a desk cluttered with notebooks, colored pencils, pastels, watercolors, and other art supplies. A paint-splattered pair of white jeans and large t-shirt was tossed over the back of the chair. Filling the remaining wall was a large bookshelf. Miscellaneous clutter formed a patchy layer over his floor, and a laundry bin half-full of clean clothes sat beside a pile of dirty clothes by his dresser.

Virgil’s eyes pricked with exhaustion, and he delegated all… that to tomorrow. He carefully stepped over to his bed, and sat down.

Reaching over to his nightstand, he picked his phone up and unlocked it.

Wait.

Virgil quickly popped into settings and removed the password, then set about searching the rest of his phone for clues.

Contacts had only “Puff🐶💙💜” (Patton, who is definitely my boyfriend), “Moi✨💄🌟” (Roman.), “Nerd🍇🤖🌡” (@god why. Please I just need to know his name), some tech support numbers, and “Manager”. He had Temple Run and Subway Surfer and Geometry Dash, but not much else. He had the Tumblr app, but it crashed as soon as he opened it. Finally, he checked Notes.

I don’t know why I didn’t start here. The Notes app was a jackpot. His social security number, directions to an unknown location, the address of a cafe in Rochester, his computer password (!), and “hamlo”, whatever that was.

Searching through the rest of the notes yielded slightly less lucrative results - numerous notes with random thoughts apparently written whilst trying to fall asleep (“dog pants?” “burger pant’s son, burger shorts. jr pants. shorts = young pants?” “Dumbell/Sawdust” “rubix cubes physically manifesting in your home” “burger pusher/at least im not a burger pusher. im a coffee pusher. im a cat?”), a note with translated roman numerals, and a note that simply read “modo g^5 plus”.

Virgil shrugged, called it a success, and went to get ready for bed.

—

Roman has an arm on Virgil’s chest, preventing him from grabbing his (“Be careful! That’s new!”) phone back as he quickly changes the contact names, adding several emojis to each. Business Casual leans over the back of the couch to read the screen.

“Why am I a thermometer?”

“It’s the closest thing I could find to a test tube.” Roman looked dramatically into the distance. “Sometimes, we have to make do with what we have.”

Virgil, upon return of his phone, reddens at the blue and purple heart emojis Roman put in Patton’s contact name. But he also doesn’t change them.

—

Virgil woke up the next morning at 6:58. He lay in bed for several minutes, blinking sleepily at the ceiling, before he registered the smell of pancakes drifting under the door.

Downstairs, he found Patton putting on his coat, shoving folders into a backpack, and eating the last few bites of his breakfast while glancing frantically at the clock. “Morning Virgil! You’re up early! Can you put this in the sink?” Virgil took the sticky plate as Patton slung the backpack over his shoulder, wriggled into his other sleeve, and darted out of the kitchen. “Bye Virge! Love you!” The door slammed.

“Bye,” he replied to the empty room. He put the plate down.

Investigating the cupboards, he eventually found a plate and fork, and pulled a few pancakes off the cooling rack in the middle of the table. Chewing slowly, he listened to the birds chirping out the window and the sound of someone jogging by.

Jogging up the steps.

Roman swung sweatily into the kitchen in running shorts and a tank top emblazoned with a logo of a yellow “watch out for children”-style road sign with two people running across a stage. He breezed over to the cabinets without noticing Virgil’s presence, dancing a bit to the pop music faintly drifting from his headphones, and humming a few notes. He turned to the table and startled violently.

“Virgil! You’re up early.” He quickly pulled his headphones off.

“Haha, yeah, I mean,” Virgil frantically dug for an excuse. “I have just been asleep for a month.”

Roman laughed, settling into a chair. He forked five pancakes onto his plate and splashed fruit sauce onto them before diving in. Virgil quietly finished his breakfast to the tinny tune of Lady Gaga’s Boys Boys Boys still drifting from Roman’s headphones.

“Hey, so, um, what’s the situation with like, work?” Virgil prayed he had been fired. He could not handle having to do this with his coworkers, too.

Roman looked awkwardly to the side. “I’m sorry, dude. They said they couldn’t keep you on past three weeks. So.”

Virgil nodded, trying not to let the relief show on his face. “That’s valid.”

Roman barked out a short, surprised laugh. “I saw a hiring sign at Starbies this morning though, you could try there.”

Virgil nodded again, and they lapsed into silence. Roman turned off his playlist.

Later, Roman tugs the last of the pancakes onto another plate and sticks them in the microwave, muttering something about how “pocket calculator probably pulled another all-nighter”. Virgil treks back up to his room to look up which Starbucks is near enough to be the one Roman was talking about, and Roman disappears into the bathroom to take a shower. 15 minutes later, Business Casual runs past his open door trailing a tie and a partially-unzipped backpack, and soon after the door slams once more.

—

Virgil walked the 4 short blocks to the hiring Starbucks, bought a coffee, and completed & turned in his application within half an hour. He got a call a week later, sweated and bullshitted his way through the interview, and miraculously got hired anyway. He was scheduled for 5-hour timeslots at various times Monday-Saturday. Thus, the following Sunday, neither Patton nor Virgil had any work they needed to rush off to.

The two had almost absentmindedly migrated from breakfast to the dishes, and they quietly coexisted while Patton washed and Virgil dried. As Virgil put away the last plate, Patton tapped him gently on the shoulder.

“Hey, Virgil?” asked Patton quietly. He looked down, fiddling with his fingers uncertainly. “D’you want to do some painting with me?”

“Yeah, sure,” replied Virgil, smiling. “Sounds fun.”

The change in Patton’s demeanor was immediate. He bloomed like a cereus in the night, rising and filling the room with his bright smile and luminous aura. “Alright! I’ll get the stuff!” He bustled off upstairs, leaving Virgil, stunned and very gay, in the kitchen. He recovered after a minute and went to change into paint clothes.

Patton and Virgil set up in the living room, spreading a large piece of thick brown paper over the rug and scattering paints and glitter within easy reach. He plopped cross-legged on the paper, and Virgil followed suit.

“What are we making?” he asked.

“Whatever we want! This is one of my favorite projects to do with my kindergarteners, just give them a big piece of paper and a lot of craft supplies and let them do wherever they want.” Patton opened up a bottle of blue paint and squirted a bit into his hand. He continued, “Kids have something really special when it comes to art, they don’t focus on the end, they just grab some paint and go.”

Mixing in some white, he spread the paint in his palm in a wide circle over the brown paper. “I think we forget how to do that when we grow up, and I’ve been trying to relearn it from my students with this activity.”

Virgil hummed. He grabbed a bottle of purple, and, squirting it into his hand, began to add little dots and curlicues to the paper with his pinky, carving tiny cracks with his fingernail.

Patton continued to talk quietly about some of the other art projects he had done with his kindergarteners as the picture began to take shape. The two crawled and reached around their workspace and each other, trying their best not to smudge the paint. Virgil put his hand down in a colorful patch, shrugged, and slapped it down in a bare space.

They continued for some time, until eventually they both tired. Virgil leaned against Patton and they looked over the smudgy, colorful, glittery painting. Patton leaned into Virgil, too, with a happy sigh.

—

Virgil stared at the black canvas in his room. He tilted his head to the left. To the right.

I don’t get it.

Turning to the desk, he flipped through a few notebooks. They held heavily pigmented, shadowy works in pastel, deeply layered colored pencil, and many, many half-finished sketches, some violently scribbled out. He found one sketch of what was apparently going to be an oil painting, with a list of what sections were going to be added on which layers, but the background was purple, not black.

Another notebook held loose sheets of watercolor paper, some filled with so much paint portions were almost black, others with only a few layers, clearly in the early stages.

Dang, I sure do like dark colors.

Turning back to the canvas, he shrugged and picked up a pallet.

Fuck it. I’ll just Bob Ross it and do whatever.

—

Virgil snarls at the canvas. Nothing is coming out like it is supposed to. In a fit of anger, he grabs his largest brush, and slaps black paint over the entire surface, obliterating the slightly wonky figure of a person in profile. With another growl, he tears out the page the sketch for the piece had been on and crumples it up, pitching it into the trash. Stripping out of his paint clothes, he crashes straight into bed. The clock greenly blinks the time at him: 4:37 AM.

—

Saturday afternoon, Virgil had learned, Patton volunteered at the SPCA. Virgil lounged in the living room with a book as Patton bounced around, humming as he gathered his coat and his bag.

Patton poked his head in. “Hey Virge! Wanna come to work with me? I think Buster misses you.”

Virgil looked up from his book. “Hm… Yeah.” He smiled, marking his place and standing. Leaving the book on the coffee table, he followed Patton out the door.

When they got to the SPCA, Patton immediately led him into the back and over to where a tiny corgi and a large mastiff lay together in a pen. The two dogs jumped up as they approached, the corgi hopping eagerly over to say hi to Virgil.

“Let me just grab Keaton…” muttered Patton, reaching over to take the mastiff’s collar. Virgil, however, had already reached out and was scratching Keaton behind the ears. Patton raised his eyebrows, then smiled, bouncing on his toes a bit. “Virgil! I’m so proud of you!!” Virgil nodded absently, leaning further into the pen to waffle his hand along Buster’s back.

“You can step into the pen,” Patton told him with a laugh. Virgil was quick to do so, plopping down on the floor.

Checking their collars discreetly to be certain of their names, Virgil murmured various baby-talks at Buster and Keaton as the two tumbled over him. Patton cooed at them, watching the three as Virgil tried to pet both dogs all over at once. He took many photos on his phone.

—

“…And Virgil did so much better around Keaton, too! They were like best buds, Keaton was all over him and he was fine! I’m so proud,” Patton finished, stirring the dregs of his soup as he spoke.

“Oh, well done, Virgil,” said Business Casual through a mouthful. He swallowed, and continued. “I know larger dogs have been a difficult issue for you for quite some time. I’m glad you’ve taken the initiative to work on your fear.”

Virgil tried desperately not to show his panic. I was afraid of big dogs?? Ffffff-

“Yeah, uh, I just felt bad about separating Buster from his buddy when I visited.” He awkwardly fiddled with his empty water glass. Business Casual was giving him a weird look. What did that mean.

Thankfully, Roman inadvertently saved him by changing the subject to his own day at work, running a Saturday workshop on improv at the youth theatre company he worked for.

—

There was a box of brownie mix in the cupboard.

Virgil leaned into the living room, where Patton was working on a lesson plan. He waggled the box. “Wanna make brownies?”

Patton’s head popped up, beaming. “Yes!!!” He stood, putting a hand to his back, then bounced over. “I forgot that was in there!”

He started pulling out measuring cups, and Virgil glanced over the instructions before opening the fridge to grab eggs.

Virgil measured the oil, eggs, and water into the bowl as Pat stirred. Once the liquid ingredients had been thoroughly combined, Virgil measured out half the bag of mix and poured it in. Patton folded the two together, blending carefully before stirring more vigorously. Flecks of batter flew out of the bowl, and Virgil grunted in surprise as a drop hit him in the cheek.

Patton stopped and looked over at him. He giggled, glancing back down at his own shirt. “I guess I battered it a bit too much, huh?” He grinned cheekily up at Virgil, sunlight breaking over the horizon. A bit of batter had landed on his lip.

Virgil leaned down and kissed him.

Patton jumped back with a loud shriek, eyes widening in shock. “What!?”

Virgil took a step back, raising his hands defensively. “What?” Should I have given him more warning? Isn’t kissing something you do with someone you’re dating? Am I wrong about that?? Did the brain injury screw up my factual knowledge too???

Footsteps thudded from upstairs, and Roman bounded into the room, followed by Business Casual. “What happened?!”

“What!” Patton squeaked again.

“I’m sorry!” Virgil frantically replied. “I’m not- I’m confused. I’m sorry!” He waved his hands frantically.

“What happened?” Business Casual asked, stepping between the two. “Wh. Why are you covered in batter?” Virgil and Patton ignored him.

“What- Why did you kiss me??” shrilled Patton.

“Because we’re dating???” Virgil replied incredulously. Patton’s eyes blew even wider.

“I- You- Virge, since when?”

Virgil paused. What?? “Are. Are we not dating?”

“No! I think I would know if I was dating you!”

Everything Virgil thought he knew was crashing down around him. The world was ending. This was his worst nightmare.

“But! I thought! Everything adds up to you dating me! You spend more one-on-one time with me than anyone else! You hug me more than anyone else! You look at me different and you smile at me more! You said you loved me! You kissed the top of my head when I first woke up!” he explained frantically. Everything is over. Patton will hate me now and they’re going to kick me out and realize I have amnesia and I’m going to be homeless and lose my job and-

“Yeah, because I’m hopelessly in love with you and can’t handle how gay I am!”

For a moment, everything stopped. What?

“You’re in love with me?”

“You thought we were dating!”

“You just said we weren’t!”

“Virgil, why would you not recall that Patton and yourself were not dating?”

Everyone turned to Business Casual, who had stepped away from the two and was now leaning against the opposite counter.

“Virgil, you said you had extrapolated from Patton’s actions that the two of you were dating, citing specifically when you, quote, “first woke up”. Odd phrasing in any situation, but particularly when compounded with the rest of this situation. So, Virgil. Care to share why it was you needed to extrapolate from such details your and Patton’s relationship status?”

Virgil slumped hopelessly. This is it. I’m going to have to sell drugs at Dennys. “I don’t remember anything. I have amnesia.”

Business Casual smirked. “As I suspected.”

“You knew?? Why didn’t you say anything? Do you know how worried I’ve been that you all’d find out and be mad at me for not telling you sooner and kick me out for being an imposter?? I don’t even know your name! Do you have any idea how stressful this has been for me??”

“It’s Logan. And you could have just said something yourself.” Logan raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, but like, there was never really a good time… and I didn’t want to be rude and be like “Who are you!” ‘cause you all were so happy to see me awake… and then it had been so long that it would have just been weird…”

—

Virgil and Patton sat awkwardly on the couch, facing each other. Logan had volunteered to call the doctor for Virgil, and Roman had quietly disappeared back upstairs.

“So,” said Patton. “Um. I guess you know I’m in love with you now. I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable to be around me now, I can leave you alone for a while if you want, and I’ll try to get over-“

“Patton,” Virgil interrupted, perplexed. “I kissed you.”

“Yes! But! That was just because you thought we were dating!” Virgil had never heard anything more dumb in his life (the past month). And he worked customer service.

“Pat, I wouldn’t have thought we were dating if I didn’t like you too.” Virgil took a breath. “I thought we were dating because, when you hugged me after I first woke up, my first thought was that I loved you. I may not remember you, but I remember how I felt about you. And how I felt about you was that I loved you so much that even a major brain injury couldn’t take it away.”

Patton stared into Virgil’s eyes. “So you like me too?”

“Yes.”

“Can I kiss you?”

Virgil leaned down in reply, and Patton met him halfway.

—

“And so as you can see from the compounded evidence, combined with his recent confession, Virgil definitely has amnesia.”

“Why was this necessary?” asked Roman. “You just listed all the times you saw Virgil doing something suspicious and out-of-character. We already know Virgil has amnesia. You didn’t need to make us sit down and watch a powerpoint about it.”

“In my defense, I spent a very long time doing this instead of my homework and wanted to share it with someone.” ***

—

*dont @ me, you read the disclaimer

**DONT FUCKING @ ME

***the note in my outline for this is: logan: here is my powerpoint on how virgil definitely has amnesia

[trickstersteve]

Dance With Me

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Word Count: 2979

Warnings: Brief mention of smut. No others we can think of but let us know if there are.

A/N: This was written as part of Emma’s 1k Writing Challenge hosted by @buckyismymainman. We had the dialogue prompt “No.” “I didn’t even say anything!” “I felt a disturbance in the force and the answer is still no.”

This is our first writing challenge and first ever time trying our hand at a fanfiction. Please forgive any mistakes.

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

How you wished the ceremony would just end. There you sat, in the first row along with the rest of your family as your brother said his vows for the third time in his life. You’d have thought that after the first one, your parents would have insisted on a small ceremony but no, they’d gone all out. The chapel, the reception, the flowers! By the sheer amount of them, you suspected your family had bought out every florist in town.

You sighed as your eyes fell to your lap. Steve’s fingers were entwined with yours, his thumb idly stroking the inside of your wrist. A shudder went through you at the sensation and you let you mind drift.

You moaned as Steve’s mouth captured your breast. Your hands grasped the sheets as a wave of pleasure washed over you when his teeth grazed your nipple. His fingers ghosted over your skin as, searing a path downward until he hooked his arm under your knee, bringing it up over his shoulder, widening his access to where you wanted him most. You gasped his name as he stroked your clit, inserting a finger, then two into you, making you buck your hips, wanting more of him. He let out a low chuckle, more akin to a growl as he positioned himself. Another moan escaped you but was captured by his mouth on yours as he thrust -

“You may now kiss the bride.”

The officiant’s voice followed by the crowd’s applause snapped you back to reality. Steve gave your hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it and joining in the cheer. Reluctantly, you did the same, turning towards your companion in the process. You had to admit, he looked good. His simple navy blue suit with matching tie really brought out his eyes.  Your gaze trailed over him as you admired the way it hugged him just right. You licked your lips as you looked up at Steve who gave you a wink when he felt your eyes on him. Trying to ignore the throbbing heat between your legs, you turned your attention back towards the kissing couple up front.

Photographs were followed closely by supper, which was spent at a table with distant relatives and family friends you barely knew. Steve made the most of it, laughing and sharing wartime stories with some of the older guest seated with you.  Steve sat beside you, his arm lazily draped over your chair. Every time he gestured and brought his arm back across your chair, his fingers would brush against your bare shoulder, sending shivers down your spine.

As dessert came around, so did the speeches. One by one, those who were expected to speak stood and made their way to the podium. Polite applause, laughter, awkward silences were all experienced - sometimes all within the same speech. You, however, despite being sister of the groom, had been spared the embarrassment of having to say a few words. All this thanks to your oh-so-favorite aunt who’d claimed you just weren’t interesting. Although, yes you were thankful, the fact your mother had agreed with that statement had stung. At least having Steve with you was a small comfort.

Eventually, the newlyweds excused themselves and all guests were ushered into the main reception area.

Your jaw dropped when you entered the room. Your brother had told you the place was big but seeing it with your own eyes, big was an understatement. The place was huge! You let out an appreciative breath, your eyes taking everything in.

Tables adorned with burgundy and gold cloths were scattered throughout the room forming a border around the dance floor. Every table had two chairs whose upholstery matched the tablecloths. The flickering flames from the candles in their sea glass holders reflected off the two massive crystal chandeliers that hung from the ceiling over the dance floor, casting streaks of rainbows upon the walls. The stage, which looked better suited to hold a small chamber orchestra than the small four person band getting ready on it, took up a whole wall.

You noticed movement in the corner of your eye. You turned your head and that’s when you saw the saloon style bar in the dimmer far corner. The bartender, in his crisp white Victorian style shirt with a burgundy and gold waistcoat, stood behind the counter, drying a glass as he watched the crowd pile in. Behind him was a wall filled with various bottles. Honestly all that was missing to complete the old time saloon look was the giant mirror behind the bar and him wearing a handlebar mustache. You chuckled at the thought.

Steve placed a hand on the small of your back as you made your way, along with the rest of the crowd, to the edge of the dance area. Your arm automatically went around his waist as you leaned in closer to him to avoid bumping in to some of the other guests.

The air buzzed around you as everyone waited for the happy couple to emerge. The band on stage were making last minute tune-ups to their instruments when the singer stepped forward. As he retrieved a paper from his inner coat pocket, he placed his hand over the mic to adjust it, emitting high-pitched feedback in the process. A collective groan was heard as people shot their hands up to cover their ears from the noise. You winced in pain as the sound went straight through you, and buried your face in Steve’s chest. He hugged you closer and placed a hand on the back of your head. You immediately felt the tension leave your shoulders as you breathed in the faint aroma of spice, leather and something that was just so Steve. A smile pulled at the corner of your lips as you let your eyes close.  

“Sorry, ‘bout that folks,” the singer said into the mic, breaking the moment. “So, uh, before we begin, there are a couple of things y’all need to know.”

You half-turned your attention to the man on stage as he unfolded the paper and brought it a little closer. He cleared his throat and listed the instructions your brother and his dearly beloved wished the guests to follow. You picked at a random speck on your dress as the poor man droned on.

“And finally -” he swept his gaze over the crowd before looking back at the sheet of paper “- may you keep your applause until the very end of the first dance so as to not break the illusion that they’re alone.”  Your brows disappeared into your hairline at that. Steve snorted beside you.

“Bit much, don’t ya think?” he snarked in your ear. “We could’ve just left.”

“Yeah, well. Welcome to the family,” you retorted with a snort of your own.

You might have said it a little louder than you thought given the pointed glare one of your relatives standing nearby gave you. You rolled your eyes up at Steve who pinched your side with a chuckle. You flinched and gently slapped him on the arm.

Don’t do that!” you hissed with smile. He flashed you a smirk in response. You looked around and let out a sigh. “Honestly, I doubt that comes from my brother and his wife.” Steve raised a questioning brow. “This has my mother and aunt written all over it.” You heard him suck in a breath.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen,” the singer’s voice boomed throughout the hall as he tucked the instructions back in his pocket, cutting off whatever Steve wanted to say, “may I present, for their first dance as man and wife, our beautiful newlyweds, Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N!”

Applause echoed off the wall as the crowd parted to let them pass. Your brother and his wife made their way through the opening provided, the photographer taking shot after shot as she preceded them backwards. They stood together in the centre of the dance floor, face to face, their fingers entwined, patiently waiting until the only sound that could be heard was the clicking of the photographer’s camera.

The wedding singer turned his head towards the band behind him and gave a nod. The lights in the room dimmed as the first notes played. Only illuminated by the chandeliers above them, the newlyweds gracefully glided in perfect sync across the dance floor. The soft light reflected off the sequins in her dress as he twirled her. Their eyes never left one another and - for them at least - the world melted away, leaving only them in the moment.

Maybe, just maybe, for your brother, the third time truly was the charm.

A lump formed in your throat as you watched them together, the way they moved, how they looked at each other with such adoration. You looked up at Steve and then back at the dancers. You were jealous. Would you ever get that with someone one day? That happiness? That kind of love? Not with Steve. Not after you’d agreed that that one night together had been a mistake, both of you valuing your friendship more. Tears pricked at your eyes and you blinked them away with a heavy sigh.

You felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned your head to see Steve eyeing you, worry written on his face. You gave him a weak smile to let him know you were fine but by the sigh that escaped him as he pursed his lips, you knew he wasn’t buying it.  He lifted his head and swept his gaze around the room behind you before placing a hand on the small of your back, leading you to a more secluded area away from the gathered crowd.

He stepped forward and pulled out a chair. With a small bow and hand flourish, he indicated that you sit. Despite yourself, you let out a small chuckle, garnering a genuine smile from your companion. Offering him a little head bow of your own, you accepted the proffered chair. He pushed it under you as you sat before coming to kneel before you.

“You okay?” he asked, taking your hand in his. You nodded.

Those piercing blue eyes studied you a moment before he turned them away to look around. He ran his fingers through his perfectly styled hair as he spotted what he was searching for.

“Want a drink?” He jerked his head towards the bar area, a strand of blond falling towards the front of his face.

“Oh gods. Yes please!” you sighed, ignoring the urge to lean forward and tuck that strand back in place.

He chuckled, placing a kiss on the top of your head as he stood. Your breath caught in your throat at the unexpected gesture. Your wide eyes followed him as he loafed towards the bar, leaning on it as he placed the drink order. You tilted your head admiring the view that particular stance offered you. He glanced back over his shoulder at you with a wink and your heart skipped a beat. You looked away so he wouldn’t notice the rising flush in your cheeks.

Steve returned, glasses in hand, as the song ended.

“Your drink miss,” he declared, his eyes lingering on your face as he placed your glass on the table beside you.

“Why thank you, kind sir,” you answered with a chuckle.

He flashed you a smile before taking the empty seat on the opposite side of the table for himself. He reclined and crossed an ankle over a knee as he took a small sip of his own drink. You both sat in a semi-comfortable silence, sipping your respective drinks and watching guests hop onto the dance floor as another song started up.

Laughter reverberated through the hall. Limbs flailed and fabrics swirled to the beat and the tension that you hadn’t realized was there began to leave your shoulders. Your rolled your head, rubbing the back of your neck as you slouched down in your seat, crossing your ankles in front of you. From the corner of your eye, you noticed Steve strumming his fingers on the table or fiddling with his drink as his gaze bounced from the dancing crowd to you.

“No.” He turned his head and looked at you his brow raised.

“I didn’t even say anything.”

“I felt a disturbance in the force,” you replied, turning to face him with a smirk, in your best Obi Wan impression.

He looked like a lost puppy with his slightly tilted head and confusion in his ocean blue eyes. You barked out a laugh, inciting several guests nearby to turn their attention towards the two of you. You dismissed them with a wave as your other hand covered your mouth to muffle the giggles.

“Honestly Cap, one day I’m going to convince you to watch those movies.” You leaned in, propping your arm on the table and pointing your index at him. “And the answer is still no.”

He shook his head with a breathy laugh as took a sip of his drink, placing the glass back on the table as his tongue darted out from between his lips to lap up the excess liquid on his upper lip. You shifted in your seat, crossing your legs to squash the sudden tingle and heat rising in your core. You both turned your attention back to the dance floor where the guests were bouncing along to some sort of Latin-style pop song being covered by the band. Your companion drummed his fingers on the table surface for a time before propping his elbow on it and resting his head in his hand. His finger brushed over his lips as he observed the party.

You grabbed your glass and were about to take a sip when Steve slapped his hand on the table and shot out of his seat. You stared at him in shock as he took the two steps to bridge the distance between you and offered you his hand.

“Dance with me?” he asked, his voice hopeful.

You shook your head. “I don’t dance.”

“Come on Y/N,” he urged, wiggling the fingers of his outstretched hand. “It’ll be fun. Besides -” He lowered his head, looking at you through his lashes, a glint in his eyes. “ - you owe me.”

Your mouth fell open. “For what?”

A smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. “For coming to this -” He swept the room with his arm. “ - thing with you.”

Taking a quick sip from the glass still in your hand, you narrowed your eyes at the man standing in front of you. You leaned forward in your seat, uncrossing your legs in the process. Looking down at the amber liquid held between your hands, you flicked your tongue over your teeth with a tsk.

“As I remember it, Steven Grant Rogers,” you began slowly, lifting your gaze to him. “You invited yourself to this thing.” You downed the rest of your drink, the liquid burning down your throat, hissing through your teeth as you inhaled. You placed the empty glass purposefully on the table with a dull thud. “The whole ‘Tell your mom to book two tickets Y/N. I’m coming with you’ thing.” You settled back into your seat, crossing your legs while propping your elbows on the chair’s armrest. You steepled your index fingers and looked back up at him through your eyelashes with a smirk. “Ring a bell?”

You waited as Steve looked away. A tic worked in his jaw while he looked around, running his fingers through his ashen blond hair, that wayward strand falling forward again. He turned his attention back towards you, his face unreadable. Taking a step forward, he towered over you as he leaned forward, his hands clasping the armrests on either side of you, effectively trapping you between your chair and him.  You gulped as his face inched closer to yours, his blue eyes dark and never wavering from yours, until your noses just barely touched. You dropped your gaze to his lips which were turned up in a predatory grin. Your chest heaved as you sat frozen in place. Steve’s eyes looked you over, pausing briefly on the rise and fall of your chest before he dipped his head next to your ear.

“And as I remember it,” he purred, “you’re the one who practically begged for someone to come with you to save you from your pesky little family.”

You turned your head until your eyes locked with his. You blinked and looked away, slowly letting the air out of your lungs as you silently admitted that he was right - although begged was a little extreme.

He’d only insisted on coming along after you’d vented about your family frustrations to him. How you could never live up to what they wanted of you. How you were the disappointment despite this being your brother’s third wedding. Hell, your family hadn’t believed you knew - let alone worked with - the Avengers until you showed up for this with Steve by your side.

You licked your lips and Steve stole a glance, the pupils of his eyes dilating at the sight. He came in slightly, his lips ghosting over yours. You caught the faint aroma of whiskey on his breath as he lingered there, hesitant, before he blinked, withdrawing from you with a shake of his head. He took a step back, grabbed his drink and whirled back to face you.

“Like I said, doll,” he shrugged. “You owe me.”

He downed his drink before placing the empty vessel beside yours on the table, clinking them together. He stepped forward with a confidence that said he wouldn’t be refused and once again offered his hand.

“Dance with me.”

[artificialqueens]

break up with ur girlfriend (3/3) - dartmouth420

a/n: part 3: in which Raven makes an ethically questionable decision, Raja really doesn’t like mornings, absolutely nothing will crush Manila’s positive attitude, and Jujubee throws a curve ball

basically ye olde morning after weirdness

thanks for reading :)

Raven awoke tired and a little hungover in bed with Manila and Raja. She raised her head and sighed, then noticed the tall glass of water on the bedside table. She loosely remembered Raja padding out of the room just as Raven was drifting off (thoroughly fucked out and happy) and placing something on the bedside table. That was kind of her, especially considering the circumstances in which they’d met. Raven raised the glass and took a big drink, appreciative.

Raven sat on the edge of the bed quietly, not wanting to wake them. Maybe she’d go and make coffee or something. Or maybe she should just leave. Raven glanced over her shoulder. A perfect ray of sunlight was hitting the bed where Manila and Raja were still curled up, asleep, and whole thing was aesthetically glorious.

Raven wondered if what was about to do was ethical. But then she shrugged, and raised her phone. Also, she really liked them, and might be interested in seeing them again, so she held no malicious intent.

The photo she took was from a strong angle, consisting of the corner of her face, one eye visible, eyebrow raised, blonde hair smooth close to her head. Behind her was the bed, and Raja and Manila curled up, still asleep. Raja was deep in the covers, only one closed eye, her forehead and a streak her long grey hair visible. Manila was next to Raja, lying on her back fast asleep with her mouth open, the cover pulled up to her chin.

She hit send.

BITCH replied Juju, quickly, with about eighteen emojis, you fucked them both???

you bet replied Raven, smug.

Wait a sec, Juju replied. Then the second text came in.

ohhhhhh YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE IT

what?? Raven looked down at her phone, concerned.

BITCH THE GIRL ON THE LEFT IS MY SECOND COUSIN

The blood drained from Raven’s face, and she looked back at Manila, who was… well, a young woman who’s last name she hadn’t asked for and who’s social media who hadn’t checked out. But in a big, multicultural city like this who would’ve expected her to be related to Raven’s best friend?

fuckkkk

Juju sent her a text containing twenty laugh-crying emojis and one devil, followed by a vomit-face.

uhhhh, don’t be grossed out but she’s hot, replied Raven, who was finding the situation as distressing as it was funny. This new factoid raised the stakes, seeing this couple was no longer an entirely anonymous entity.

She mildly regretted sending the photo. Maybe it was an invasion of privacy.

BITCH DON’T TELL ME THAT ABOUT MY COUSIN

idk if anyone knows she’s gay tbh that whole side of the family is pretty religious

i didn’t know lol

oh shit I’m sorry… was just trying to brag to u about my conquest haha

why are u like this it’s fucked up lol

idk lol

thanks for telling me

but like

i might wanna see her again?

maybe both of them ;) ??? typed out Raven, hitting send with some mild guilt. She’d definitely need to sit down and think about this later. After she had some caffeine.

o really?

yeah…

aw <3

Raven smiled at the phone. She really loved Juju, they’d been best friends since college, and truly shared everything.

can’t wait to be ur in-law, teased Juju,

imma bring u really cheap wedding gifts

ur getting an off-brand slow cooker

BITCH!

anyway g2g <3 <3

hmu later <3

Raven got up and walked to the bathroom. She quickly rinsed her face and mouth. She put the unexpected information from Juju about Manila aside for now, and decided not address it. This really wasn’t the time or the place. Then she padded over to the kitchen. It was a bit cluttered, clearly well-used and loved.

There was an espresso machine on the counter, and Raven grinned. She knew how to work one of those, having done the time in her early twenties as a barista. While the water heated, Raven looked at the pictures on the fridge. There were kitschy magnets from a few places around the world, ‘Paris, je t'aime!’, and several photos, including two goofy school pictures of Raja and Manila respectively. Manila glared at the camera, about thirteen and deep in an emo phase, judging by her racoon-like eyeliner, back-combed hair and striped long-sleeved shirt. Raja’s picture was more innocent, a goofy-looking androgynous nine-year old with a big smile, round face and black hair sticking up awkwardly.

Raven snorted a laugh. She appreciated this couple’s sense of humour, displaying silly pictures on their fridge.

She sighed. She shared her apartment somewhat resentfully with two room mates. It wasn’t an ideal situation but it was cheap and because of that she’d been able to put aside some savings. If only Tyra would do the dishes every once in a while. Not to mention she was pretty sure Nicole had a crush on her, and she had to figure out how to let the other girl down easy. In fact, Nicole was probably taking her dog for a walk right now. Raven winced and sighed. Whatever, these were problems for Future Raven. Hopefully she’d find a better job soon, and move on.

The espresso machine was gurgling, so Raven moved over and dealt with it.

A few minutes later she snuck back into the bedroom with three cups of espresso. She was a little nervous, this wasn’t something she’d normally do. She was more of a leave immediately after sex or quickly in the morning kind of lover. But this felt like the right thing.

She put the coffee on the bedside table and sat on the bed, heart suddenly beating quickly.

The movement of Raven sitting back down on the bed disrupted Manila, who blinked her eyes open and yawned, stretching. The movement then woke Raja, who groaned and buried her face deeper into the pillow, disappearing under the duvet. Manila blinked and smiled sleepily at Raven.

“Good morning… oh! You made coffee!” said Manila, and she threw the covers off and made for the bedside table where Raven had put the little cups, “Oh my god, is that espresso?”

“Did somebody say espresso?” muttered Raja from deep in the blankets.

“Yeah, I made some,” said Raven, gently.

“That’s nice, you’re so sweet!” enthused Manila, kissing Raven on the cheek. Manila was shockingly perky, having been awake for less than one minute, “And I thought you were all mean and sexy last night…”

“She’s great. Keep your voice down,” muttered Raja.

Raven stifled a laugh, and sipped her own coffee. Manila crawled off the bed and threw on a robe, before sitting next to Raven and drinking her coffee in silence. Eventually, a long brown arm stuck out of the pile of covers that contained Raja, and Manila carefully put the cup of espresso into her hand. The arm retreated into the pile of covers almost cartoonishly. The only evidence of Raja’s existence was a small slurp and a happy sigh.

“I had a really nice time with you two, last night,” whispered Raven, putting a hand on Manila’s thigh.

“Aw thanks! I did too, and Raja as well,” replied Manila, quietly.

“Lovely, so… I can leave whenever, if you’ve got something you’re doing today-”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” replied Manila, smiling so that the edges of her eyes crinkled happily, “Neither of us have plans, you can hang out for breakfast, whatever suits you.”

“Right, well,” replied Raven, her heart glowing a little upon hearing she was welcome to stay, “I really need to shower.”

“Mmm, I think I’ll join you,” said Manila, putting down her cup down. They both glanced back at the pile of blankets and pillows that contained Raja somewhere deep within it.

“Yeah, she won’t be really awake for a while.”

-

Of course, Raven ended up on her knees in the shower eating Manila out against the wall. A truly good start to the day, Raven mused to herself as Manila squirmed and gasped, throwing her head back with pleasure. What could be better?

When they were finally done, they found Raja in the kitchen, starting to cook. The older woman had put her hair up on top of her head in a messy bun, wore dark-rimmed glasses and an elaborately patterned silk robe.

“Your glasses are too cute,” said Raven, as she towelled her hair dry. She was wearing a borrowed bathrobe, one of an apparently infinite supply, “Anything I can help with?”

“No, just sit there and look pretty,” replied Raja, with an affectionate smile.

“That’ll be easy.”

Breakfast was insanely good. It was better than any breakfast Raven had had in a long time, and she’d certainly worked up an appetite. Raja could really cook. They hung around the table for a while, chatting away about plans for the weekend and this and that. Eventually Raven changed, slipping her dress from last night back on, feeling a bit weird next to the other two, who were wearing relaxed weekend clothes. It was time to retreat to her own apartment and chill out.

“I think I’ll call an uber,” said Raven to Raja. Manila was checking her phone, and Raja was putting dishes in the sink.

“I can give you a ride,” said Raja, shrugging.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, it’s no problem.”

“Okay, thanks,” said Raven. She supposed it’d be worth it to save the eight dollars on the ride.

“Manila, you want to come?” asked Raja, half-turning towards the other woman.

“Ah, no, sorry I have to make a call in a few minutes,” said Manila, giving Raven an apologetic smile.

Manila then engaged in a drawn out goodbye with Raven, leaving her with lingering kisses and an exchange of numbers. Raja watched from the door, lacing up her shoes, and raised a single eyebrow. Then Raven got her little purse and left with Raja. Her high-heeled club shoes clicked along the floor of the hallway.

In the carpark under the building, they approached an ugly 90’s style green car.

“Wow, this thing is ancient,” joked Raven, sitting down on the worn passenger seat. But unlike Juju’s car that seemed to be always covered in empty takeout containers and random garbage, Raja’s was meticulously clean. Raven didn’t have a car, but everything she did was comfortably within either cycling or public transit distance, and for anything that wasn’t Juju would drive her.

“Yeah, so everyone tells me,” chuckled Raja, shifting into gear, “But it’s reliable, hasn’t died yet. I made it through Hurricane Katrina in this thing.”

“You can drive stick?” asked Raven, curious, “Also… what?”

“Yep,” replied Raja, winking, “And I’ll tell you that story sometime if you’re lucky.”

“Hmm.” Raven was impressed and she eyed Raja’s tattooed hand on the gearshift as she confidently manoeuvred the car out of the parkade into the street. The bright sun burst through the windshield, and reflected off of Raja’s white Tshirt.

“So,” said Raven as they drove, after she’d given Raja her address. She felt a bit exposed, without any makeup on and her hair still slightly damp from the shower.

“So,” replied Raja, smirking a little at Raven’s uncharacteristic hesitance, “Manila gave you her number, right?”

Raven nodded, and then she had no idea why she said it, but suddenly it was out of her mouth, “It turns out I distantly know her.”

“Oh yeah? From where?”

“She’s my friend Juju’s second cousin.”

Raja stiffened at the mention, shifting the clutch and accelerating through the green light, “You know her family?”

“No. She just happens to be related to her. Juju’s my best friend,” replied Raven, inwardly cursing. Why had she even mentioned it?

“How did you find out?”

“Checked out her instagram this morning, realized the connection,” Raven lied quickly, guilt flaring in her stomach.

“Right. Well. Manila’s family is pretty religious,” said Raja matter-of-factly, but Raven could see lingering resentment in her expression, “Let’s just say they don’t approve of us and leave it at that. Maybe don’t mention this to your friend.”

“Of course not.”

“Good.”

Raven wondered if she could have handled that better. But then again, family was complicated.

They pulled up at Raven’s soon after that. Raven was having a hard time getting a read on Raja, so she decided to say exactly how she felt and Raja could interpret it however she so desired. They’d been quiet for the last few minutes of the drive. It was a beautiful day, thought Raven, looking out the window at the bright blue sky.

“Well, I had a great time with you two last night and I hope you stay in touch, I’d love to see you again,” said Raven, with a warm smile as she opened the door to get out.

“I had a good time as well,” said Raja, with a half-smile, “I, ah, just felt a bit weird with you bringing up Manila’s family. I’m basically suspicious of anyone who knows them since they’ve been so shitty to us over the years. But yeah, I like you too. Until next time.”

And then Raja leaned in and kissed Raven intently. Raven raised her eyebrows, surprised. And then Raja pulled back and gave her an absolutely filthy grin, and when Raven left the car she waved. Raven waved back and saw in Raja the same goofy energy as she’d seen in the childhood photo on her fridge. It was a bit of a shock after her cool exterior, but charming.

Hmmm. It seemed the night before had worked out in the best way possible. Raven opened the front door to her building and nodded pleasantly to her elderly neighbour, who looked her up and down disapprovingly.

Raven walked up the two flights of stairs towards her apartment, feeling thoroughly satisfied. She had work on Monday and a bunch of laundry and groceries and chores to do before then. Also, Juju would be back Sunday afternoon and she was looking to reuniting with her best friend after their brief time apart.

There was much to discuss.

-

The following morning she received a text.

You doing anything next weekend? :P

Raven raised an eyebrow and replied, new phone who dis

It’s Manila!!! Omg you’re the worst lol

that’s what they all say

hmmmmm i think i’m available friday ;)

Yay!! We’ll be in touch, Manila sent a quick photo of herself and Raja, a selfie in Raja’s car. Manila was sticking her tongue out at the camera and Raja was looking at something out of frame, light reflecting off her glasses. There were bags full of groceries behind them in the back seat.

Raven smiled down at her phone like a love-struck fool.

[little-dragon-stories]

Crossroads

Part 4: A slight change of plans

A collab with @aspaceformyselffics09

What happens when you are at a point in your life where you need to change direction, but are uncertain of the road to take? Would you take a random road or would you wait for a sign? And what happens if at a bend of the path, you meet someone that seems at the same point as you, a traveller, needing the same change of direction as you? Would you choose to take that road together? What happens when you meet, at the crossroads?

Warning: no

Words count: 3238.

Note from me only: guys, you have no idea how excited I am about this collab. In the future, you will see equally Jiyong and Namjoon, don't worry. It's very nice to mix 2 fandom together, don't you think? The story is already planned, it will be a long, funny and wonderful journey. I hope you like it.

Also, we had to give our females characters a name instead of the usual "y/n", it makes it a little more difficult for the reader, maybe, to imagine yourself in her position. But we had no choice, we have 2 baby girls 🤷🏼‍♀️. As they say, pick your fighter 😛 are you more Miso or Lilly? You want to be Ji or Nam's lover? You can choose people. It's up to you ♥️

Guys I have to say.... working with @aspaceformyself @aspaceformyselffics09 is so wonderful, you have no idea. She's so intelligent and her english skills are just amazing. I'm impressed. She embellish everything I write with her poesie. Sometimes, in google docs, we start to add something, as we stop to look what the other is writing (yes, we can create together, live, it's magical) we found out the other is following the same idea. We want to add the exact same little detail (with differents words, of course) it's really impressive ♥️. My lovely indian princess, thanks for the trust, the respect, the peacefull atmosphere in which we create and most of all, thanks for the friendship. We create so good together, right? It's fun to see how our ideas complete each other's ideas! I love you ♥️ I can't wait to read what we'll create along the way.

Anyway, here it is, part 4 guys!

*********************************************************************************

“Ice creaaaaam, ice creaaaaaaam”, Miso sang as she skipped along the already darkening streets illuminated by the tiny sparkles of the neon lights from the buildings that stood like a backdrop to the city scape. It was the beginning of the evening, a breezy one to be exact and the onset of the chill in the air is evident by how it made Miso pull her overcoat a bit closer to herself. She was walking slowly on the sidewalk, unbothered by the passers-by that were in a hurry to get to their destination. Swimming and blending among the vast crowd. It was one of those usual evenings in Seoul, when the rush hour took over and people who just get out of work scurry their way home to their families. But despite the cold and the rush, Miso felt warm inside thinking about the night she's about to have with her best friend Kwon Jiyong.

She was just out of work and the day had been very busy. Miso doesn’t remember a moment where she is not running around with her camera flung around her neck and yelling directions to the staff and the model she worked with. The models she worked with, aren’t usually very fussy people but the one she had to deal with today, was out right unprofessional and a royal pain in the ass.

So, tonight, she was tired and mostly wanted nothing but to sit, relax, laze around and watch countless movies as she stuffs her face with good food. Basically, a usual night with Ji. Those were always fun and not complicated. Their friendship was “split” between very childish moments and some deep conversations. In Ji, Miso has found a big brother, a confident and a personal motivator. They can share their deepest thoughts, things they would be ashamed to tell somebody else. And the minute after they could laugh over bad quality anime on the television, laughing like 2 kids with their mouths wide open. That’s the kind of friendship they shared together. A real, not complicated one, comfortable enough to show their lamest sides to each other without any Judgement, comfortable enough to laugh at it, make fun of it but at the same time have each other's backs at all times needed.

Excited about the evening to come, she subconsciously reaches out to the phone sitting in her overcoat pocket and dials him.

“Jiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii”, She sing songs over the phone.

Although the phone clicked in an answer mode she was met with complete silence on the other side. Not precisely silence but rather the sound of things shuffling and scurrying but no voice.

“Ji are you there?” Miso calls out.

A beat of silence later, a hurried voice answers, “Ah yes my tiny one, what’s up?”

“What do you mean, what’s up? What are you doing?” She asks pouting, “You sound like you’re in a hurry. I don’t need anything fancy you know, just the casual beer and movie night is enough for me”.

“I’m not busy, I’m just getting dressed Miso”.

“Getting dressed? What for?” She asks the confusion in her voice ringing clear, “Pretty sure it’s not for me”.

“Pff, for you? Obviously not for you.”

“Ji, what are you up to? I am coming over with your favorite cookies, remember?”

“Miso, I am a bit late, talk to you later little one”.

“Ji? Jiyong?” And before she could say anything further, the line clicks shut on the other side.

“Ugh”, Miso groans, rolls her eyes and continues to walk ahead, stuffing her phone back into her pocket,“I can’t believe he hung up the phone on me”, she sighs, huffing up her cheeks. “What is he doing?”

Curious, she hurries down the road to her best friend’s apartment. And as she nears it, she could sense the commotion inside which confuses her even further. Cautiously she opens the door with a spare key Ji gave her and carefully steps inside. There, she’s met with a sight she didn’t usually expect on a saturday night. Usually, it’s just her, Ji, a ton of food, a pile of DVDs of all the film they both want to watch and Ji’s exotic TV screen. But today when she looked inside, it was anything but that. Today, there are some n number of people squirming about his place, stylists, make up artists, a few photographers etc. Nothing made sense to Miso. But she still made her way inside squeezing herself between the sea of people. Not really, but that’s just what Miso felt like. And finally, in one of the rooms, she found Ji.

He was watching his reflection in front of a standing mirror. A little turn to the left, he seems satisfied. A little turn to the right, yes, he likes what he sees. He then gestures a thumbs up to his stylist, grabs her by the shoulders and playfully messes up her ponytail.

“Noona, you’re the best. Once again, thank you for making me look good tonight”.

“You’re welcome Jiyong ssi”. She said brightly while squirming and trying to escape Jiyong’s playful embrace. This was the moment he notices Miso leaning against the door frame.

“Hey Minnie! Why are you here girl?” Jiyong delightfully sprints over to his best friend, “Awww, You wanted to see me? You missed me love?”

“You forgot didn’t you?” She points at him accusingly.

Ji looks at her confused. He isn’t really sure what she came to see him for, and his mind begins to race with questions. Did he forget something? Did they plan anything?

“It’s our night together Ji! You promised…” She whines faking an exaggerated disappointment. “Umm, but Minnie, you know this event tonight, right? I’ve told you many times”.

“Well, no you didn’t”, she deadpans.

“I did”, he says and before she could whine any further he continues, “Remember yesterday we were talking and I was telling you how I have to attend an event. You were even excited that BTS was gonna show up?”

Miso stares at him for a while before the realization dawns upon her. Ji did inform her.

“You forgot didn’t you?” It was now Ji’s turn to stare at her accusingly, trying his best to hide the smirk threatening to form on his face.

Miso just grins at him sheepishly. She can’t believe that she was so lost in her dreamland she forgot his event.

Still too proud to give up, she says,“You know what? It’s okay Ji, it’s the first time you are abandoning me, so it’s gonna be strike one”.

“Your unbelievable!” Ji scoffs as he scoops Miso into his arms in a big embrace. Laughing to herself Miso snuggles into him. He then kisses the top of her head as the rest of the staff had already almost disappeared from the room, leaving their presence a strange phantomatic souvenir, as if they were never here at all.

“If you are talking about this event, yes you did tell me, I remember now. You just never mentioned it was tonight”.

“Oopsie”.

She took a step back, looked at her friend’s outfit and showed her appreciation by applauding.

“You look almost good, I am impressed. Your stylist and makeup artist can turn your ugly ass into somebody pretty, I am amazed by their talent” she says, laughing.

“Yeah! Yeah!” Jiyong is now used to Miso’s sarcastic sense of humour.

“Anyway! I declare your house my little nest for the rest of the evening. I can’t think of a better place to be right now, your freezer must be loaded with my favorite ice cream, I will watch you on your big screen while relishing it”.

“Hahahaha, sure my little one. Make yourself at home for tonight. I put your clothes in the usual place. Grab them if you need something comfortable okay?”

Ji then glances at his watch and continues, “Sorry but I have to go now Minnie, have fun while I’m gone, see you when I come back okay? Don’t expect me home soon though, I have an after event party”.´

“That’s what I thought, have fun, I am not going anywhere anytime soon”.

He answered in some inaudible words, before being dragged out by his manager.

Sighing in disappointment, Miso realised all her plans for the night were gone. That she was left alone in her best friend’s big apartment with only Aye as a friend. But! She won’t let this put all her plans aside for the night. She’s still determined to do whatever she thought to. Even if her best friend abandoned her. Even if she has to do it by herself. So, pulling up her sleeves, Miso first finds her way to the guest room where Ji usually stakes up all the clothes and things she leaves behind. On the top of her BTS pajama neatly folded in the drawer of the dresser she uses, she found a Big Bang pajama with a handwritten note from Ji “you should also encourage your best friend you know, wear this if you love me. Just saying” with a lot of smiley and hearts encircling the little message. Laughing, she takes a quick shower in the attending bathroom and changes into her comfortable Koya nightdress. She scoops all the cushions from the bed, let them in the middle of the living room. Then made her way to Ji’s room and stole all his pillows too, with a big smirk plastered onto her face.

“You hate it when I put your precious pillows on the floor, right Mister Ji? Ha ha! Then you should have stayed here tonight to protect them against the mighty me”.

She arranges the cushions so as to form a cozy nest, right in front of the mega big screen of the living room. Realizing she forgot the blankets, she runs up to Ji’s bedroom again. She seizes the luxurious mattress cover in black silk and without hesitation puts it on the floor in the living room where she built her empire. Ji would be fuming if he knew what treatment she reserves to his precious bedding.

“Isn’t it the perfect spot to be watching Namjoon’s precious face? If not, I wonder what is” Miso thinks to herself, a dreamy look on her face. “Have I ever seen his beautiful dimples on the big screen before? I don’t think so…. Oh! My! God!”.

Excited she scrunches her face and squeals like a little girl as she jumps around in her exquisite fort. She then skips her way to the dining area, opens the fridge and chooses a meal among the cooked dishes that Ji’s personal cook had made for him.

“Let’s see what we got here tonight… black noodles?” She scans the fridge as she hums a tune to herself, “ No… tofu soup… mmm maybe…”

She finally picks some haemul pageon (athin crêpe of seafood and chives), sniffing and salivating at the delicious smell coming from the oven as she heats it. She then places a glass of water, some radish kimchi she cooked for Ji last week because he loves her kimchi the most and her meal on a transport tray and finally comes back to her magic fort, ready to watch her favorite people on the big screen.

“I can’t believe I’m about to see Namjoon on this screen! This is so exciting!” She sings dramatically twirling about, like she’s a princess from a disney movie, “I hope I will survive his handsomeness, aaaaw, he’s so cute, I can’t wait to see him!”

She then places her plate on the table and looks around the room for the tv remote. Keeping her search operation as quick as possible as her precious seafood is on the low coffee table being all vulnerable for Aye the food predator!

Oh! Now that she thinks about it, her eyes open wide, she realizes that she hadn't seen him since she got here today. Hopefully, he’s just hiding somewhere, Ji would be really sad if his beloved son, as he calls him, would have escaped somewhere earlier, through the come and go of the staff. She needs to look for the little guy.

“But nooooo! I don’t want to miss the first minutes of the show” she says out loud, mentally conflicted. Her eyes drift to the clock on the terminal, “I have about 3 minutes, let’s go find the feline before then”.

“Aye! Aye! Where are you wild cat? Your master abandoned you too, right?” She called out as she went around the house, “Well, he abandoned me too. Look, I have a sad face on. Get out of your hiding spot little one, I am here… Aye! I’ll even share ice cream with you if you dare show me your little nose, I swear I will!”

“Wow! I am trying to talk to a cat now, he will never get out if Ji is not here” she thinks to herself. Her eyes trailing back to the clock every now and then. Even though she’s running out of time, she wants to make sure that he’s still in the apartment somewhere, she knows how Jiyong loves his cat. He calls her 10 times a day whenever she stays at his place to take care of him when he was out of Seoul. He never calls her that often when she’s not cat sitting.

“Aye! Come here you gutter cat! Come here!”

As she looks everywhere around the apartment, she realises that the door of the cellar is not completely closed like it should be, to keep the wine at a good temperature.

“Why is this open?” She thinks to herself. At first her mind races with the thoughts of an intruder and she panics for a second before she remembers the cat. “It could be the cat”, She tells herself, “Not an intruder”. But even as she tells herself that, back in her mind she knows a cat can’t open a door handle. And she mentally prepares herself to either run, or call an emergency number in case it turns out that there’s an intruder after all. Nonetheless, she cautiously enters the cellar and spots the cat right away, sleeping on the top shelf.

“There you are! It’s cold here, come on down”.

Of course, the unbothered cat didn’t even flinch at her attempt to make him get down. But she can’t leave him there, the cellar will change temperature, oh! Drama! and it’s too cold for a cat too. She then places a bench near the shelf and uses it to reach higher towards the sleeping cat which finally allows her to grab him and take him into her arms despite his attempts to get out of her grip. It was then as she was getting down the step, that a bottle of wine catches her interest. There was something in the way it was packaged or the lettering or the graphics or the description that caught her eye. And as she reached out to it, she thought, “Why not! After all, we often open a bottle of red together, plus it’s the weekend and I deserve it after all the hard work today. I’m sure he won’t be mad if I drink it without him”, she grabs the bottle with a shrug of her shoulders, “Good! now let’s go back to my man, my handsome Kim Namjoon”.

Precautiously, she closes the door as she leaves the cellar with her treasures securely tucked under her arms. Making her way to the living room, she sets the cat down on the floor and the bottle of wine on the table in front of her. Aye immediately makes a dash for it and snuggles up to himself in the fort. Sighing, she sits herself down, switches on the TV, flips the channel to the one broadcasting the event and finally takes a bite of her food.

“Mmmmmm”, she hums, closing her eyes, quite pleased by its taste. Ji’s personal cook really is the best! She then unscrews, pop’s the wine open and pours some into a glass. Carefully lifts it up, twirls it and takes a long sip, “Delicious!” She exclaims and sets the glass down and turns her attention to the screen. A few minutes passed by since the broadcast started. Although Miso was sad she missed the introduction, she was still happy because the camera is now focusing on BTS. Which means, she can watch them, in close up, on that wide big screen.

“Ah! There he is! My Namjoonie! My beautiful man ” She exclaims to no one in particular but more to herself, the cat and the empty room around her, then clutching her hand to her chest, she gushes, “Look at those dimples Aye! They’re to die for! Don’t you think so too Kitty?”

She was not sure if she saw correctly on the screen because she was focussing on Namjoon all the time but it seems that it was Jiyong sitting on Namjoon’s left side now. Has she seen correctly? She’s not quite sure. She wants to know so she grabs her cell phone and write a message to Ji.

“Kwon Jiyong, if you are sitting next to MY man, please touch his face for me and don't wash your hands. Try to touch the skin, omg… I will awkwardly lick your fingers as soon as you are home. Please? Let me do it? Pretty please?”

Dramatically wiping some fake tears, Miso reaches out to the glass in front of her and takes one more long sip and thus her night goes. Amazing food, the event broadcast, fangirling whenever Namjoon’s on the screen, talking to Aye, sometimes texting Jiyong as she sees him on the screen and of course, the delicious wine.

Meanwhile...

Meanwhile, in Seoul, in a place farther than Ji’s apartment, at the venue of the event, Kim Namjoon finds himself sprinting towards the exit. As he looks around the area to see if he can spot his bandmates anywhere around but it appears that they had already made it outside. They were in the middle of the event when their manager suddenly called and informed them that they have to immediately rush to the airport to catch their flight. You see, they anyway had to go to the airport soon after the event as they’ll be out recording and shooting over seas for the next few months. But it so happened that all the flights got preponed due to the weather which means BTS has to check in early and catch the flight earlier than they have anticipated and that brings us back to why Namjoon was in a hurry.

And soon, he was out of the venue, in the limo, on his way to the airport. Though his face reflects the gaiety of his fellow bandmates, he was nonetheless, a little concerned about the sudden change of plans due to the meteoric condition. And regardless of everything, he wants everyone travelling tonight to be safe and sound. Suddenly, as if snapping him right out of his thoughts, his phone buzzes in his pocket. Who could be texting him at this time? And as if on cue, the phone continues to buzz as a string of messages flood his phone. The blue light illuminates his face as he clicks it open and looks at it, confused.

What the hell was that?

[starlightseb]

dear diary • jesse lingard

Synopsis: when moving out, Jesse finds his girlfriend's old dairy

Words: 1031

Warnings: none apart from a very petty Jesse!! 

After months of debates, Jesse had finally managed to convince his girlfriend to move in with him. It had gotten to the point when she was basically living there anyway: there was a pile of her clothes at the bottom of his wardrobe; a bag of her makeup sitting on the bedside table; her favourite shampoo inside the shower and a spare toothbrush. She was just too stubborn and sentimental to officially move away from her parents and her family home.

Afraid that she would give up on the move at the last minute due to having to give up her childhood possessions, Jesse decided to help her clear out her belongings and pack her stuff. He was flipping through her old note taking jotters for exams when found a smaller book with a lock securing it. It had her name scribbled over it in barely readable writing and the word 'diary' on it. Jesse slowly picked up the diary and turned it over to find the words:

'secrets inside, do not open!!'

Jesse laughed, placed the diary to the side and made a mental note to ask her about that afterwards. The date on it dated from when the both of them would still be in primary school, when they were in the same class. There was a part of Jesse that was eager to see if she had written anything about him inside of it.

He had forgotten all about the diary filled with secrets until he found a jewellery case and amongst all the necklaces and bracelets found a small silver key, shining amongst the bright colours. He carefully picked it out and observed it, looking back to the diary in thought. Without thinking about the invasion of privacy that this was, Jesse picked up the diary and unlocked the lock on it. He then skimmed through the pages, finding some covered in random pictures and others filled with writing. It was a list at the back of the diary however that caught Jesse's attention. The list was given the heading: 'Sexiest boys in class'

Jesse's chuckles stopped when his eyes made its way down the list:

1. THOMAS

2. Josh

3. Harry

4. Matt

5. Ben

Thomas's name was surrounded by various love hearts and there was a picture drawn at the bottom of a girl dressed in a wedding dress holding a boys hand labelled as 'Thomas and me'. Jesse looked at the page in disgust and put it on the floor. He remembered Thomas as the boy he used to fight and the one who would always get him in trouble at school, and he had never quite forgiven him for it.

"Hey, Jess how are you getting on-" she stopped right in her tracks when she saw her boyfriend sitting on the floor with her old diary open in front of him. "Jesse!!" she exclaimed, quickly picking up the diary, slamming it shut and holding it close to her chest. Her cheeks reddened significantly and Jesse shuffled awkwardly on the floor.

"You can't look through my old diaries! See, secrets inside." She pointed dramatically to the writing on the back.

"I thought it would be harmless," Jesse admitted. "But really? Thomas?" his face scrunched up in disgust. She groaned and covered her face with her hands.

"I was nine, Jesse." she sighed, sitting on the floor beside her boyfriend.

"Yeah but I hated Thomas! Why am I not on the list?" he pouted.

"Are you really getting petty over a list of sexiest boys that I wrote when I was nine?" she playfully pinched his cheeks.

"I mean, I would be fine with it if it wasn't Thomas you were obsessing over! Why Thomas?"

"Well he used to kick my foot under the desk and they said in the magazines that was a sign that they liked you." she shrugged in response. She didn't really see the fuss in all this. Yes, she had a massive crush on Thomas when she was younger but she didn't see why it mattered to Jesse now.

"He used to kick me in the face!" Jesse exclaimed dramatically.

"Jesse, don't over dramatise the whole thing. It isn't that big of deal." she flicked through the pages, looking over the pictures and writing. She stopped on a certain page of a school trip, that had a picture of a young Jesse and her, trying to communicate through walkie talkies. The picture had yellowed through the years and the corners were folded over slightly as she had failed to stick it in properly all those years back. "See, you are in the diary." she pointed to it, as Jesse observed it and took notice of the writing at the bottom.

'Me and Jesse, my best friend' with a little love heart next to it, coloured in with a bright red pen.

"Yeah, but I still didn't make it onto the sexiest boys list." he folded his arms across his chest, looking sorry for himself.

Having enough of his petty attitude, she reached up onto her desk, grabbed a pen and went to the back of her diary again. She scribbled out her past list of 'sexiest boys in class' and then created a new heading of 'sexiest boys as of 2019' and proceeded to create the list:

1. Jesse

2.Jesse

3.Jesse

4.Jesse

5.Jesse

"Happy now?" she rolled her eyes at him as he gave a massive smile. "Has your ego recovered yet?" she teased him, nudging his shoulder.

Jesse smiled proudly at the list in front of him, nodding enthusiastically. "Yeah, that looks more accurate." as he threw an arm around his girlfriend, pressed a kiss onto the top of her head, then began to continue going through her old stuff. Stopping again when he found a picture of her in a princess dress and a wand in her hand, posing seriously at the camera.

"Well, that one is going up on the wall." he laughed, putting it in his pocket despite her hands trying to grab it back off of him. Upon realising she was never going to get that picture, she lay with her back on the floor and groaned.

"Why did I ever let you do this?"

[macchiatomingi]

dysnomia.exe (ATEEZ Cyberpunk!AU) Chapter 1

Empathy

You sat quietly on the countertop, feet dangling over the edge. Soft whirring noises followed by the occasional squeak could be heard whenever you moved your head to follow the blond haired man’s figure from the cabinet on the opposite side of the room, back to your body.

“Ah,” he starts, the sound distant to your sensors, “maybe I should oil the gears in your neck.”

“My hearing sensors are also malfunctioning. Perhaps those need to be reevaluated as well.” You suggest. The muffled sound wasn’t annoying, but then again you really didn’t know what something being “annoying” felt like. You just based the word off the descriptors you picked up from Wooyoung and his speech patterns.

“Noted,” the blonde man says, “if it’s anything that I can’t do I’ll call in Yunho or San. Maybe even Jongho...one of them should be able to fix it,” he finished, making his way once again to the cabinet to retrieve the oil that’d be used on your neck.

“My calculations predict that you would be the most reasonable option for fixing my sensors, Seonghwa.” You start, numbers flashing before your eyes in a monotone green, “Statistically speaking, you’ve failed to adequately complete a repair 14.2 percent of the time, compared to Yunho’s 29.5 percent and San’s 15.6 percent.”

“Well, what about Jongho?” He asks, his tone laced with mirth.

“Jongho has failed to adequately complete a repair 32.6 percent of the time,” you begin, combing through data report after data report, “with his primary reason being that he was unaware of the wire placement in my model.”

Seonghwa openly chuckled at that, using a gentle hand to tilt your head to the left. Pushing back the rubber skin covering to reveal metallic gray panels, he unscrewed two of them to expose the gears and wires in your neck. Gingerly dropping around five or six drops of oil, he screws the panels back and places the skin cover back over them before repeating the process on the other side.

You sat motionless as he worked, eyes trained ahead on the cabinet. The front panel was glass, so you could clearly see your reflection in it. 

Your skin covering was ripped in some places, exposing either paneling or wire. Parts of your hair were gone, exposing the lighter undertone of what would have been your scalp, and while you couldn’t necessarily feel boredom, you found yourself growing bored with the repetitiveness of your appearance. You’re always around changing scenery, changing clothing styles and hairstyles. Yet you’ve kept the same appearance since you were booted up nine months ago.

Maybe it was time for a change.

“Okay,” Seonghwa starts, readjusting some of the skin coverings on your neck and shoulders, “I’m all done.”

“Thank you.” You reply calmly, pushing yourself off the countertop and onto the floor. The wooden floorboards creaked under your weight, but you paid it no mind as you silently walked out of the room.

Stepping out into the hallway, you scanned the house for Jongho’s heat signature. The boy was always warm, it rose concern until Seonghwa notified you that he’s just...like that. 

After a bit of scanning, you find his form curled up in what was most likely a chair. Hues of reds and oranges muddled into the shape of a human. A small whir of excitement sends a wave of electricity through your systems, temporarily causing your vision to glitch. You were definitely mentioning that the Excitement program San created for you was malfunctioning.

Making your way downstairs and into the kitchen, you follow the path until you reach Jongho’s body, contorted into what should be an uncomfortable position, reading a book on botany and medicinal plants. You stand motionless for a while, before opening your mouth to speak.

“Jongho,” you begin, noticing as his eyes leave the book that they were previously focused on to stare at you, “I would like a new physical appearance.”

“Is there anything specific that you want?” His voice was soft, you noted that he was in that position since yesterday, reading book after book of different medicinal plants and their properties. He most likely hadn’t spoken since the previous day, seeing as nobody really bothers him once he gets into one of his reading moods.

“No,” you start, “I give you full control of the design,” you say.

“Okay, I’ll get one started and give it to Hongjoong for him to create it.” He nods, turning his head back to his book.

“Jongho,” you say, gaining his attention one more time, “what is ‘empathy’?” You ask, eyes flashing blue to signal your recorder starting to capture the response.

“Ah...” he starts, setting his book down and repositioning himself so that he’s seated facing you, “empathy is, in a nutshell, being able to understand what another person is dealing with emotionally,” he says as he moves his arm to stretch the muscles in it. 

“Why are you asking?”

You think back to the day before when you were accused of being an emotionless pile of junk, and then being told that some people just don’t understand the concept of empathy and that nothing was wrong with you for not understanding it.

“I would like to have the ‘empathy’ program,” you start, “in order to avoid possible future conflicts over my lack of understanding complex human emotions.”

“I’ll talk to San about it.”

“Thank you,” and with that, you exit the kitchen. Claiming a seat on the living room couch and training your eyes on the TV in front of you.

“Another riot has broken out in Nuseoul’s Capital Sector over the leaking of private footage of IDAT’s task force mistreating the cyborg activist Duri Cho,” the anchor starts. One by one the boys come into the room upon hearing the news, “IDAT’s task force is accused of falsely arresting as well as physically and mentally abusing Ms. Cho while she was in Capital custody, resulting in her death,” an angry curse can be heard from behind you.

“Much of the outrage started only after the anonymous, self-proclaimed vigilante group ATZ released a video statement detailing this information, as well as showing clips from what appeared to be security cameras from inside the Capital,” another anchor starts, “the group ATZ have been found to blame for much of the disarray in Nuseoul in the past five years, and with no leads to the identity of those in the group, authorities can do nothing but hope that people realize many of their accusations are false and ignore them.”

An angry scoff comes from behind you, “False? If it weren’t for us Haneul’s family wouldn’t have been able to bury their child,” the voice said, turning to face the source you see Hongjoong glaring at the TV screen. His hands were balled into fists at his sides.

Training your eyes back to the TV, you realize that the screen went from the news anchors to IDAT’s President, Moon Hyeonjeong, standing at a podium to deliver a speech. Upon the sight of him, your vision glitches once.

“My dear citizens,” he starts, your vision glitches again. Error messages begin to appear as your systems slow down to accommodate the spam of ERROR and URGENT CARE NEEDED messages.

“I come to you to say that we will defeat the evil of this so-called vigilante group,” he says the word vigilante with such venom that you swear if you had emotions you would wince, “and restore peace to our beautiful state.” he drawls.

Another scoff can be heard, from someone different this time, followed by angry footsteps and a door slamming in the distance, footsteps disperse, and another weight sinks in on the couch next to you.

“Calixte,” the voice starts, your sensors unable to determine who it is due to the random malfunction, “how do you feel?”

“I feel as if,” you start, “as if, if I were able to experience human emotions, upon seeing Moon Hyeonjeong and hearing his speech, I would experience hatred.”

~~~~~~

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA THIS DRONED ON FOR SO LONG IM SO BAD WITH INTRODUCTION CHAPTERS IM SO SORRY!!!! I promise it’ll pick up and start to make more sense in the following chapters ; ; I have this whole thing planned out and like I know vaguely where I want it to go it’s just finding the English to take it there ; ;

I don’t really have an update schedule but !!! I’ll try and update pretty regularly :D

[petitmochii]

I Like Me Better: Chapter One

August 31, 2017; New York City; 11:00 am

It was a cool, rainy Thursday morning in New York City, but nothing could match the signature icy glare from Veronica Hayes. She was sipping on a 90-degree soy latte with extra foam while getting her finishing touches from hair and makeup for today’s big interview. Her gaze bounced off the vanity mirror and landed on the back of my head, sending a shiver down my spine. I wouldn’t be surprised if I had frost bite by the end of the day.

“I am never drinking again,” Natalie came bouncing into the office, two hours late as always, juggling a pile of papers and two coffees from our favorite place down the street. She handed my coffee to me, “I feel like death.” She looked like death. Her fiery red curls laid in frizzy disarray upon her head, giving her a lion-like mane. The dark circles under her eyes showed her lack of sleep and there was still a slight tint of pink on her lips from the night prior’s makeup. She dropped her pile of papers with a thud on the floor and she slumped over her desk, opposite mine.

“So, you had fun on your date?” I cradled the cup of coffee with my name on it, “Or at least it sounded like it,” I smiled over the brim of the cup before bringing it to my lips. Natalie and I shared a third story walk-up apartment in Brooklyn Heights. Much to my dismay, we had very thin walls and Natalie often had late night visitors.

Natalie scoffed, “I came, I saw, I conquered...I came again,” she sat up just in time to catch my eyeroll. We both laughed, “What’s her problem? Queen of Hearts looks like she’s about to call for your head any moment.”

I glanced over my shoulder to discover Veronica’s eyes still fixated on me, “Honestly, I’m not sure,” I turned back towards Natalie and shrugged, “We’re in charge of the research and production for today’s interview, so I’m sure she’ll find a reason to crucify me later.”

“Ooooo who’s on the itinerary today?” Natalie perked up, “Anyone I know?” If there was one asset to having Natalie on staff at Billboard, it was her immense knowledge of celebrities and their dirtiest secrets. This was thanks to her upbringing as a socialite on the Upper East Side, with several famous friends and relatives.

“I don’t think you’ll know much about these guys, love,” I flipped my computer around to show her my word document of fun facts, photos, and upcoming projects, “they’re a K-pop band called BTS.”

Natalie clutched the sides of my computer, pulling it closer to her face, “You’re right, I don’t know them, but I’d sure like to get to know that one on the left.”

I was about to remind Natalie of Billboard’s strict “no fraternization” policy regarding celebrities, when I heard a shrill, “Ohhh Calendar!” Veronica’s stupid nickname she gave me during my first week at Billboard. I had a knack for remembering dates, and I made the mistake of correcting her in a meeting when she gave the wrong date for a Justin Bieber tell-all. I sighed and mustered up all of my strength to put on a fake smile. As I approached Veronica’s seat at the vanity, she began to shake her Starbucks cup in my direction, “it’s empty.” This was my Veronica’s language for ‘Can you please get me a new latte?’ except she was incapable of being polite. Veronica was a lead interviewer at Billboard, and as Digital Content Assistant, I was at her beck and call.

“Would you like your usual?” I shinned her my tight-lipped smile.

“Yes,” she tossed the cup in my direction, “Except, this time make sure it’s 90-degrees. The latte you brought me this morning was way too hot,” hence the death stares this morning, “For a college-educated girl, you sure don’t follow directions too well, Sarah.” It’s Sierra. I’ve worked for the company for almost four months, and she still can’t get my name right. It took all my power not to rip out her extensions, but instead I grabbed my coat and headed towards the elevator.

************************************************************************************************

The Starbucks line was long, as expected with the start of the lunch rush. Impatiently, I began to tap my foot as I look at my watch. 11:30am, I had 30 minutes before BTS would be arriving at the Billboard office.

It was almost my turn to order, when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to find two men, who looked around my age, dressed in colorful clothing, “I’m sorry, I hate to bother you,” said the taller of the two, “But is there something you could recommend for us? We’re not used to the U.S. menu in Starbucks.” The two men looked expectantly at me with stupid smiles on their faces.

“Um, I like the Chai tea lattes,” the taller man turned to his friend and began to translate in what sounded like Korean. It was my turn, “Hi Jack, I’ll take the usual and put it on the company tab. Please make sure it’s 90-degrees this time so I don’t get murdered.” I saw the staff at this Starbucks, every Monday through Friday, at least twice a day, so we got to know each other fairly well.

As Jack began to make my order, the man behind me cleared his throat to get my attention. I whipped my head in their direction, now annoyed. Noticing my frosty glare, he began to stutter, “You see, me and my friend here are from Korea, and this is only our second time in the US and we don’t know much about what to do...”

Jack announced my order was ready, “…so we could really use a local New Yorker to show us around, since we’re here for a while. If you’re interes-“

“You know, I’m really busy,” I grabbed Veronica’s order, “I don’t have time to stand around and talk with random people in coffee shops, let alone give them tours of New York.” I was never a rude person, even to strangers. But Veronica’s outburst put me in a bad mood, and I didn’t have the time to chitchat.

I pushed open the glass doors and pulled the hood of my coat closer around my face as the rain pelted down from the grey clouds above. I quickly peaked back at the two strangers, they were standing at the pickup counter waiting for their drinks. I couldn’t help but notice how embarrassed the taller of the two looked, red cheeked and scratching the back of his neck. His friend was bent over in laughter, obviously mocking his futile attempt at flirting. Normally, I would’ve felt bad, but I had a boyband to interview.

************************************************************************************************

When I arrived back in the office, Natalie was setting up the backdrop in the interview studio. Or at least, she was trying too. She was standing, wobbly kneed, on a rolling chair with her arms stretched out in ‘Y’ shape. With a face so red it was difficult to tell where her hairline began, she glanced towards me and whined, “Sieeerrra, help me!’

Grabbing the step stool, I rushed to relieve Natalie from her starfish stance, “First of all, you never stand on a rolling chair. There’s always a stepstool in here.” I fastened the black fabric to its metal support system, “And secondly,” I turned towards Natalie who was leaning against the walls, wiping her brow, “you need to learn how to do this by yourself. I won’t always be around to save you.”

“But you’re so good at it,” we took a step back to admire the interview setup, “Have I ever told you how much I love and cherish you?” Natalie stroked my hair and fluttered her puppy dog eyes at me.

“Not often enough.”

We were reviewing the research and questions I had prepared for the interview this morning, when we heard the distinct click of 5-inch Louboutin heels and the chatter of a mass of people. Soon enough, the wicked witch herself appeared in the doorway with a herd of young, very attractive men following her; BTS photographed well, but the pictures didn’t do them justice. Veronica clutched her Starbucks cup in her hand (too cold this time) and motioned us to move out of the way. We obliged.

The seven guys filed into the room, along with some older men whom I assumed were management, and each took a seat on one of the stools we set in front of the backdrop. Veronica took a seat in her obnoxious pink chair that resembled a Victorian throne. She crossed her legs, took out a compact and reapplied a thick layer of her ruby red lipstick. Blowing herself a final kiss, Veronica closed the compact and turned towards the guest, “Ready boys?”

“Let’s do this,” one of the guys cheered. I turned the lenses of the camera to focus on the group. I was in charge of audio and visuals, while Natalie took control of the lighting.

“That’s what I like to hear!” Veronica clapped her hands, causing her acrylic nails to clack against one another, “Before we begin, I’d like to introduce you to my assistants for the interview today.” Natalie and I appeared from behind our designated positions and stood next to Veronica’s throne, “On lighting, is Natalie Connor.”

“Hi,” Natalie let out a small wave.

“And in charge of the camera,” I could hear the honey sweet tone leaving Veronica’s voice, “is Sarah Kwan.”

“It’s Sierra,” I let slip as I struggled to hold in an eye roll. I scanned the sea of boys in front of me; each had their own style, whether it was colorful hair or equally loud clothing. When my eyes made it to the front row, my heart skipped a beat. I could feel the heat rising to my face, I wanted to run and hide, but I knew Veronica would never let me live that down.

The two guys from the coffee shop sat front and center. My attempted suitor looked as surprised as I felt, but his expression quickly changed to a smirk when he sidekick nudged his arm a mumbled something between laughs. How did I not recognize them? I had literally spent the entire morning researching their band and looking at pictures of them.

“Kwan?” one of the guys in the back, who I believed was called J-Hope, pipped up, “Are you Korean?” This was one of the few phrases I recognized in Korean because of how often I was asked.

A flare of heat came on my cheeks again, “Only half. I’m sorry I don’t speak Korean.” J-Hope nodded understandingly as I let my hair cover my face. I wanted to die. Natalie nudged me, but I ignored her.

“Well anyway,” for once I was glad for Veronica interrupting, “Let’s start with everyone introducing themselves.” I stepped back into my position, glad to have a camera between me and the group, it was easier to hide my embarrassment that way.

I focused the camera on my coffee shop mystery man, “Hello,” he glanced into the camera, “My name is RM, I’m kind of like a leader and translator for this group.”

Note: Sorry this is a lot of fluff! But don’t worry, there will be a lot more BTS in the upcoming chapters (and some potential smut ;)).

 Also, about the name change.... I really like the song “I like me better” by Lauv, and I think I’ll be using that song as inspiration for the story moving forward. Let me know what you think, and if you like this style of having a character, or if you would like bts/reader stories. 

[meowloudly15]

Stranded: Day 1 - PIGEON SWARM

Hey, guys! It's meowloudly15 at the helm! And today, I've got for you the start of a story that I've been working on for the past month and a half! It feels so great to finally get it out there! I mean, I'm not done writing it, but still, you know that feeling, right?

I saw Into the Spider-Verse the day after Christmas. I was already in love with Butch!Gwen, and the movie did nothing but help. But one thing about her origin story made me think. If she showed up to Brooklyn a week before the collider accident happened, what did she do during that week? And how did she really find her way to Miles?

Those were the questions that I sought to answer by writing this fic.

I'm currently set to post chapters twice a week on Mondays and Thursdays. Here's hoping that I can actually stick to a schedule for once in my life.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Spiderman: Into the Spider-Verse or any related characters. I am using them without permission. Please don't sue me.

I hope you like it!

NOTE: Chapters are also posted on my FFN and AO3 accounts! See the title page for more information!

First | Next

PERSONS TAKING NOTICE

Gwen slowly elevated herself to a sitting position on the solid concrete, rubbing her aching head. She breathed a sigh of relief upon noting that she was still wearing her Spider-Woman mask and costume, because people were gawking at her crash landing. At least, that was what she assumed her spider-sense was warning her about.

Gwen scanned the area and noticed a disheveled man propping himself up from his seat on the stoop of an apartment building and looking her way. She also noticed a stained brown paper bag lying on the ground next to him. With any luck, the man would dismiss her as just being a drunken hallucination or some fashion of specter. She didn't see any other people nearby, so she presumed it safe to remain visible.

UNFAMILIAR TERRITORY

Right. Where on earth was she?

Was she on Earth?

Gwen stood up and studied the somehow familiar yet unfamiliar landscape. There was something about it that made it appear almost unrealistic. The city resembled Connecticut City, but was it?

It was a different dimension, wasn't it. Gwen remembered what her spider-sense had repeated over and over as it went haywire right before she was sucked into the, uh... the weird bubbly thing. It kept saying "INTERDIMENSIONAL TRANSPORTATION IMMINENT". If that wasn't a tip-off, she didn't know what was.

She ought to ask someone about where she was. But Gwen couldn't go talk to people at random while she was in her costume. They'd freak out.

RISK OF NUDITY

Right. She didn't have street clothes. They were back at her house, wherever that might be. She'd have to get some somehow.

Gwen rummaged through her pockets, taking inventory. Extra web fluid; very important... phone; hopefully she'd get service... driver's license; probably not valid here... house keys; she hoped she'd be home by curfew but kind of doubted it... a notepad and pen; tools of the trade... earbuds… aha! Money!

Only seven bucks worth of it!

The stores here might not even accept her cash. Gwen sighed.

She could steal something.

Gwen clenched her fists. There really wasn't any other way, was there?

IMPENDING MORAL CRISIS

"Thanks a lot," Gwen muttered under her breath, "but I already saw that coming."

And she needed to get a wallet, too, Gwen thought as she stuffed the crumpled bills back into her pocket. But that could wait.

She had to find a store. In the process, she could explore this place.

There was also a lot of other weird feedback from her spider-sense, Gwen recalled as she shot a webline towards the nearest street sign (it read "Wideway", which wasn't the name of any street that she knew of) and swung into the city. Something about "HAIR-RELATED CRISIS", and "PIGEON SWARM", and "LOZENGE BOMBARDMENT", and "BLOODY PREDICAMENT". She shrugged them off as her spider-sense just going haywire from the extreme duress that she was un-

PIGEON SWARM

Gwen looked up and found herself just feet away from a flock of pigeons which was headed straight towards her. She yelped in a rather undignified fashion and dodged between the startled birds, somehow managing to navigate through with only a few scratches.

Okay, maybe the spider-sense was right that one time. But it was just a coincidence. Wasn't it?

Gwen sighed and continued to web-swing, searching for a store as she traveled.

What the... Bold Navy?

Gwen swung to the building, clinging to its face and crawling down to peer in the shop windows. There were racks of clothes and mannequins inside. A few shoppers and clerks milled through the brightly-lit aisles.

Huh. This place must have been this universe's version of Gold Navy.

So what was the plan, what was the plan?

SHOPPERS INCOMING

Gwen flinched and crawled backwards to avoid being noticed by two young women who were emerging from the store. She had half a mind to steal the clothes from their bags, but she didn't know if they would be the right size or not. Instead, she vaulted through the automatic doors and clung to the wall above it inside the store, staying out of range of the cameras.

The shoppers were another thing that her spider-sense had warned her about while going through the bubbles.

Two coincidences?

Maybe they weren't coincidences, Gwen wondered.

There was no time to think about that. She needed to steal herself some clothes.

But Gwen still hesitated, more out of nerves than anything. Should she be here?

INCONCLUSIVE

She sighed. She was here already; she might as well get it over with.

Gwen clambered across the white-painted rafters on the ceiling, looking for something that she would wear while also avoiding the people passing beneath her.

Nobody ever looked up. But it was best to stay safe.

That grey shirt looked decent. Gwen used a webline to snag it from a pile, slightly disturbing the clothes to either side. She held it up to herself. A bit small, but it would fit well enough.

A little further down, Gwen spotted pairs of khaki pants. She snatched one up, then returned it to the shelf upon realising that it was the wrong size. This time checking the label, she grabbed the correct one.

Gwen grabbed a jean jacket and backpack to complete her ensemble and had started to stuff the clothes in the pack when she remembered that she had to take off the dye tags. She crawled back to the front of the store and took a tag remover, using it to pull off the tags and promptly returning it to its proper location.

Gwen put the clothes away and took out her notepad, scribbling a quick message to the Bold Navy employees and firing it down to the checkout counter with a webshot. It read:

"I took some clothes from your store and I'm sorry but I needed them urgently. I'll pay you back asap. SW"

Gwen was about to leave when she realised that she needed different shoes. She couldn't run around town in teal ballet slippers. She hurriedly snatched a pair of blue sneakers before swinging out of the store.

She landed on a nearby rooftop, searching for cover in which to don her new outfit, and spotted a stairwell entrance. That would be perfect.

PERSONS TAKING NOTICE

Gwen threw herself to the ground, anxiously glancing around for whomever might be looking at her. She saw nobody but still commando-crawled to take shelter behind the stairwell. She threw on the outfit on top of her costume, replacing her ballet slippers with the sneakers, and tossed her mask, gloves, and slippers into the bag. Standing up, Gwen examined herself as she tore the price tags off of her clothes, casting them onto the ground. The pants fit surprisingly well, as did the jacket, which also conveniently concealed her hood and web-shooters, but the shirt was a bit tight and the sneakers were far too loose.

She was ready to go down and brave the city.

GUARD ON WATCH

Gwen opened the stairwell door and almost immediately found herself staring down a security guard. She froze in place.

RUN NOW

Gwen obediently turned tail and fled. The guard exclaimed and ran after her, waving his baton and flashlight.

Gwen's feet slipped inside her oversize sneakers as she rounded a corner, heading towards another rooftop. The new shoes were only slowing her down; at least she was still running comparatively quickly, thanks to her super speed. She propelled herself to the next roof, her feet sliding as she jumped and reducing her traction on the ledge. She landed awkwardly on the raised lip of the other roof and rolled onto the gravel rooftop just below before the guard could see where she had gone.

Gwen watched a flashlight beam pass over her head, waver from side to side, then vanish. She heard the distant crunch of boots on gravel receding and a man muttering something.

She'd be caught if she stayed up here much longer, Gwen knew. But she couldn't exactly go wall-crawling down buildings in civilian garb.

What if she asked the security guard where she was?

Then again, she was wearing stolen property. And she was trespassing. Gwen did not want to risk getting arrested.

ATOMIC DISJUNCTION

What in the ever-living heck did that mean?

Gwen was seized with a violent tremor, like an electric shock but extending through every inch of her body. She convulsed as startlingly bright colours flashed before her vision. She shrieked involuntarily through clenched teeth.

The strange seizure ended as abruptly as it had begun. Gwen was left with only a pounding headache for her troubles.

Through her rapidly receding pain, she heard louder, faster crunches of gravel and a man distantly saying, "... someone on the roof, some girl just yelled. Probably the same one. I'm checking it out."

Gwen stood up on unsteady legs and started to run. Her newly-stolen backpack thumped uncomfortably against her torso. She leaped to the next roof, tripped, and fell on her face not far from its edge.

She picked herself up but froze in the blinding glare of a flashlight. Holding the flashlight was the same security guard that she had run into previously. Gwen must have jumped onto the first building in her confusion.

She figured she already knew the answer but wanted to ask just to be safe: should she be here?

NOT A CHANCE

First | Next

[ninimackbrews]

What A Night // Part 2

Pair: Sweet Pea x Reader

Note: So i was thinking and with all the feed back i got for the first part I decided to do a part two for what a night.

WC: 1,156

The light shinning in through the curtains stung your eyes. You groaned burying your head under the pillow, which didn’t smell like your own. Your face scrunched up when you took a deep breath, ‘is that Sweet Pea’s cologne?’ you thought. Sitting up you realized you weren’t in your own bed, no, you were in Sweet Pea’s house, in Sweet Pea’s bed, in Sweet Pea’s CLOTHES.

“What the fuck?” You said out loud to yourself, rubbing your face. You looked around Pea’s bedroom, having only been in there once or twice. On the dresser was his bottle of cologne and hair gel and random things. On the floor were piles of clothes, clean or dirty you weren’t sure but knowing Sweet Pea, it was probably a mix. You looked down next to you and on the night stand were two picture frames, one with a picture of Sweet Pea, Fangs, Toni, and you, the other was a picture that you thought was long forgotten. It was from when you and Sweet Pea went to the drive in about two years prior. In the shot you were sitting on his lap, arms wrapped around his neck and your lips pressed to his cheek, and he was cheesing hard at the camera. You smiled at the memory. You stood up out of bed, grabbing the picture and walking out of the room. ‘Gotta ask him to make me a copy.’

“Hey Sweet Pea-“ you stopped at the foot of he couch something catching your eye in the mirror hanging on the wall. Upon further inspection you dropped the picture on the coffee table, startling Sweet Pea awake. “SWEET PEA WHAT THE HELL ARE THESE!” You yell, rubbing your neck harshly. Sweet Pea sat up chuckling.

“I believe the teens call them hickeys,” he said in a teasing tone, rubbing the back of his neck, looking up at you from his place on the couch. You stared at him in shock through the mirror. Your eyes widening, whipping around to face him.

“Did we...?” You trail off, pointing between the two of you. Sweet Pea’s eyes widened.

“No, no, we didn’t, but we did... uh we did get close, but you passed out when I was giving you those,” he briefly pointed to the marks on your neck. You closed your eyes and took a breath. ‘God how trashed was I?’.

“So we didn’t sleep together? But we almost did? What does that even mean?” You struggled to recall the events from last night, you vaguely remember Toni offering you a fifth shot, but after that it was a blur and a headache. You plopped down on the couch next to him.

“Well you got trashed so I said I’d take you home, but you insisted on coming here. Got to my room said it was too hot and lost the clothes you had on, I was respectful, but you provoked me,” he said quickly, with a playful glare as he mentioned the provoking. You felt the heat rise in your cheeks, ‘Jesus, why me?”.

“Don’t worry tho we just kissed, and well those.”

“We just kissed, how can I not remember kissing you?!” You were frustrated that you missed out on the perfect oppression to make out with him. According to him you did it, but thanks to the alcohol cloud, you remembered none of it. He raised an eyebrow, facing his body towards you now.

“I mean, I can always try to jog your memory,” Sweet Pea suggested like it was no big deal, like kissing you again was like hitting your shoulder to remind you how bad it hurt the last time he did. You sat speechless.

“I haven’t even brushed my teeth yet,” you whined, hands falling in your lap. Sweet Pea let out a laugh, tilting you head to look at him with his finger under your chin. He was still for a moment studying your features, he smirked a bit, eyes catching the marks on your neck. Pride swelled in his chest, giving him the gumption to lean in and capture your lips with his own. It took less than two seconds before all the memories of the night prior came rushing back. You moaned cupping his face pulling him closer. He wasted no time pulling you onto his lap, hands holding your waist tightly. Your hands found their way into his hair, toying with the strands at the base of his neck. Pulling away, your lips traveled down his jaw to his neck biting and kissing, leaving just as many marks on his neck as he did yours.

“Sweet Pea,” you leaned back to look him in the eye, “I wanna do something stupid today.”

“I’m stupid, do me,” he grinned up at you like he had been in the picture from earlier. You smiled, bringing his face up to meet yours half way. Sweet Pea slid his hand up under the shirt you had on pulling it up, you raised your arms letting him take it off and throw it some where in the small living room. Your hand ran down his chest, tugging on the hem of his shirt. He leaned off the back of the couch causing you to giggle and slide back on his legs. He quickly discarded his shirt and began to pepper kisses on your chest.

“Sweet Pea,” you gasped, he had unhooked your bra stripping it from your frame. The door to his trailer busted open and in came Fangs and Toni. You shrieked scrabbling to cover yourself with the blanket that Pea had used to sleep with. Sweet Pea’s eyes widened, a lot happened in thirty seconds, his two best friends walked in his house and you practically flew off his lap and into the blanket.

“Hey guys,” Sweet Pea laughed, Toni and Fangs stood there, jaws on the floor. Toni fixed herself first, a smirk resting on her lips.

“Pay up, I told you they’d gone home together,” Toni put her hand out to Fangs. He stomped like a child, taking out his wallet, putting a twenty in Toni’s out stretched hand. “Thank you.”

“You kids have fun and be safe,” Fangs winked, following Toni out of the door. Sweet Pea turned to you and you both broke out in laughter.

“Well that was random,” Sweet Pea climbed over you, pressing a kiss to your nose. You nudged yours against his cheek, pulled him down by the shoulders in a odd hug, but more like him laying on top of you.

“Are we more than friends now Pea?” You ask quietly in his ear. He thought for a moment. The silence making your heart clench.

“Yeah, yeah we are,” He grinned. Sweet Pea pulled up and kissed you softly once more before turning over, laying you on his chest. You both spent the rest of the day cuddling and kissing and maybe more.

——————————

An: TaDa hope you like it, thanks for the support!!💗

Taglist:

@thejerksclub @southsidememes @mari-cross @knights0fkylo @seasonal-outcast @pleaseminho

[enbouton]

Better Call Saul Rewatch, Part 4/30: Upon This Rock I Will Build My Church

Hero (Season 1, Episode 4)

Written by Gennifer Hutchison / Directed by Colin Bucksey

This episode deals largely with identities. Jimmy is Saul Goodman, he’s Slippin’ Jimmy, he’s Howard Hamlin, he’s his own receptionist on the phone, he’s Tony Curtis in the bath scene in Spartacus, he’s a local lawyer and a local hero. It’s fitting that we open with a flashback showing young Jimmy using the name “Saul” for the very first time, and just as fitting that it’s done without fanfare: it’s tossed out as a half-joke. “S’all good, man!” Jimmy, in a garish, slithery-looking striped shirt, leads his mark down the alley where his partner in crime awaits. The unhurried pace of this sequence is very effective, suiting the stillness of nighttime Cicero and the low-key nature of Jimmy and Marco’s con.

The flashbacks on this show (with the exception of the corner-store one) all take place at night or in dimly lit rooms; here’s some good meta that touches on how Jimmy thrives in darkness. Is it significant that the first Slippin’ Jimmy con we see is one that wouldn’t work on an honest person? Jimmy needs a mark who’s willing to make off with the "Rolex”, thinking he’s got one over on the rube who settled for $1,580 in cash.

Afterwards, Marco is radiant with admiration for Jimmy— “I love watching you work”— but Jimmy says his talents are good for beer money, and that’s about all. Again: what would have happened to this guy if he hadn’t had to leave Cicero? This is not the face of a man who’s happy with where he is in life:

(It is the face of a man who’s being "haunted by the ghost of vladimir lenin” (@deadpanwalking), but I digress.)

Back in the present, Craig and Betsy stand over a pile of money and stress that what they did was “for the kids” (sound familiar?). In substance if not style, Jimmy’s pitch to the Kettlemans bears more than a little resemblance to Kim’s pitch to Mesa Verde: “What are you gonna get from me that you won’t get from those other guys? Passion. Commitment ... If you’re with me, you’re my number one client, morning, noon or night. You call me, I’m there. I would be singularly devoted to you.” But Betsy isn’t swayed: “You’re the kind of lawyer guilty people hire.” Ouch. Exhausted and beaten down, Jimmy takes their bribe.

Nacho, now released, surmises that Jimmy tipped off the Kettlemans. I like that Nacho is as smart as Jimmy. I like that the show generally surrounds Jimmy with people who are as smart as he is. Jimmy counters that Nacho didn’t need any help making himself look suspicious, and Nacho stalks off.

As Jimmy launders his money, assigning stacks of cash to “consulting fees”, “research” and “travel expenses”, he constructs yet another alternate self, this one belonging to a narrative in which he worked for the Kettlemans.

We see Jimmy getting measured for an expensive, conservative suit, yet when the tailor steps out of the room, something wonderful happens:

#it’s like watching a baby being born #a really tacky baby

But Jimmy isn’t just using his windfall to smarten up; he’s playing a long con involving a billboard exactly mimicking one of Howard Hamlin’s, ringlets and all.

Small brain: using your ill-gotten seed money to advertise your business

Galaxy brain: dressing up as your enemy, buying a provocative billboard that you know you'll be forced to take down, hiring a film crew, then bribing a worker to fall off the billboard so that you’ll get on the local news for rescuing him

“He’s… you know, a free spirit,” Kim says, having been dragged out of the office to look at it. She demurs when asked if she and Jimmy are still friends, which, tbh, is fair enough, given how Jimmy behaves around Hamlin (we’ll get into that later). There’s lots to think about with Jimmy literally dressing up as Hamlin, recreating his look down to the smallest detail. Once again he’s taking on another persona, albeit just to achieve a short-term goal. “What kind of lawyer are you going to be?” Kim will ask him in season 2. It’s a question Jimmy seems to keep asking himself.

In the midst of Jimmy and Hamlin’s clash, we get an early glimpse at the tightrope Kim is expected to walk at HHM. She shouldn’t feel the need to lie about who her friends are in order to stay in her boss’ good graces, yet she does, and later on she breaks off a friendly conversation with Jimmy to hand over a cease & desist letter. With Kim, BCS dodges the “successful woman has to choose between career and relationship” trope in favour of something much more interesting, a woman facing uncertainty and unfairness in both spheres. Kim’s relationship with Jimmy isn’t even the main reason she’s treated unfairly at work, and her allegiance to HHM isn’t what’s keeping her and Jimmy apart.

The billboard comes down, but not before Jimmy has himself filmed in front of it, first speaking to camera about the injustice he’s faced, then racing up a ladder to rescue the worker whom he bribed to take a fall. It’s fascinating to watch how Jimmy tells his story here. He hits all the right beats— patriotism, bootstraps, public service, the dream of owning one’s own business— and casts himself as the all-American underdog who “scrimped and saved” to buy a billboard only to have it snatched away from him. We’ll see Jimmy employ a lot of these tropes in his advertising later on; this is his skill at face-to-face communication writ large, but the foundation of the billboard con is his ability to create situations that he can manipulate to his advantage.

When Jimmy drags the worker back up onto the walkway and the two slap hands, we finally see his angle. Watching him on the news in the HHM boardroom, Howard mutters “whole thing’s a damn stunt” and walks off. Kim gives a little smile.

The one part of the situation that Jimmy can’t control is his brother. He has the foresight to keep the newspaper from him, but he can’t account for Chuck’s pedantic attention to detail. Of course Chuck will wonder why his newspaper wasn’t delivered; of course he’ll look outside and see that all his neighbours have theirs; of course he’ll deduce that there’s something in the paper that Jimmy doesn’t want him to see, and cross-reference this against what Jimmy told him about a sudden change in his fortune; and this, perhaps combined with the urgent care receipt that fell out of Jimmy’s pocket a few weeks prior, will concern him enough that he’s compelled to go outside.

The show has already tipped its hand re: the true cause of Chuck’s symptoms, but that’s almost beside the point here: what matters is that they are real and debilitating. As soon as he steps outside, he’s overwhelmed, his senses are deranged, and he nearly runs into the path of a car in his haste to get across the road. The chaotic, visceral sequence ends with a blackly comic cut to his neighbour’s perspective. From the outside, this proud, suffering man is just a crazy guy in a space blanket, scurrying back to his door.

Misc.

“You assume that criminals are gonna be smarter than they are,” Jimmy muses to Mike. “I don’t know. Kinda breaks my heart a little.”

IIRC, the billboard, which went up for filming in Albuquerque in 2014, was how we all found out Saul’s original first name.

A wall of glass blocks appears prominently behind Jimmy and his mark as they walk down the alley. Marco’s fake ID, in the name of Henry Gondorff, bears an issue date of July 1991.

What we see of Kim’s office is devoid of personal items, except for a pair of sensible sneakers on the floor.

Timeframe: this episode picks up right where “Nacho” left off and covers a period of about two weeks. The Albuquerque Journal is dated June 20, 2002; Chuck’s copies of the New York Times and Wall Street Journal bear cover stories that were published on June 19th or 20th (they are “Israel Acts to Seize Arab Land After Blast; Bush Delays Talk” and ”Unhappy Returns: IRS Moves to Bring Back Random Audits”).

Music

“Smoke on the Water” by Deep Purple (1972), sung by Marco

“Listen” by Chicago (1969), as Marco and Jimmy smoke

“Battle Hymn of the Republic” by Herbie Mann (1969), as Jimmy launders his money. Saul plays a different version of this song in his waiting room in Breaking Bad.

“Unsquare Dance” by the Dave Brubeck Quartet (1961), as Jimmy calls the media

References

Young Jimmy offers to take his mark to a place “a couple blocks off Cermak”. He’s referring to Cermak Road, a major east-west thoroughfare that runs through Cicero, neighbouring Berwyn, and parts of southern and western Chicago.

“Super 170 Tasmanian wool”: the “Super” number corresponds to the diameter of the wool fibres; the higher the number, the finer (and more expensive) the cloth. 170s wool suiting is very fine, soft and lightweight. More info here.

Sea Island cotton: a variety of extra long staple cotton historically grown in the Caribbean and named after the area of South Carolina:

“Sea Island cotton is the ultimate choice for any suiting connoisseur due to its unrivaled softness and second skin-like feel. This ancient fibre is now grown mainly in the paradise climates of Barbados, Antigua and Jamaica; its inherent long staple yarns create a silky yet strong surface, resisting wear while smoothing over time. Extremely scarce, it makes up just 0.0004% of longer staple yarn production.“ (Turnbull & Asser, where you can buy a Sea Island cotton shirt for £345/$456)

French cuffs: double cuffs that are folded back and fastened with cufflinks; a very formal style

Club collar: a white collar with rounded points, created by alumni of Eton College who wanted their dress to indicate that they belonged to that exclusive “club”. All in all, the elements of Hamlin’s signature look connote wealth and sophistication in a formal, conservative way.

Jimmy refers to Tony Curtis’ appearance in a particular scene in the 1960 epic Spartacus. It’s worth noting that the scene, which features two men bathing together and some heavy innuendo about “snails” and “oysters”, was considered so homoerotic that it was cut entirely by the censors and only restored to the film in 1991 (source). You can watch part of the scene here.

Kim invites Jimmy to a screening of The Thing (1982), a horror film about a group of researchers in Antarctica encountering a parasitic alien entity.

While talking to reporters, Jimmy mentions Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein, investigative journalists who covered the Watergate scandal.

The Groucho Marx mirror routine Howard refers to is this scene from Duck Soup (1933).

< PREVIOUS EPISODE: NACHO > NEXT EPISODE: ALPINE SHEPHERD BOY

[elanorjane]

Picture of Beauty (Ch 3/?)

Summary: Fashion house Jefferson-Mills needs inspiration. Photographer Gold believes a librarian he photographed by accident has what it takes. Now it’s up to Gold to turn Belle into a model worthy of Paris Fashion Week. Based on the movie Funny Face.

AO3“I believe I found the answer to our problem.” Gold dropped the photographs on the desk in front of Regina, who shuffled through them. They were the prints of the photo shoot at the library and they were a vast improvement. The books gave the images, and the model, depth.

“You’re right, she looks smarter already.”

Gold shook his head, “Not her. Her,” he pointed to the librarian looking alarmed as she pretended to sell a book to the model, who posed disinterested and tired. In another, the girl was gazing down at the book in her hands with a whisper of a smile on her face. She looked romantic and beautiful and he’d buy anything she was selling, including dresses.   

Regina gaped at him, “The milkmaid? You’re joking.” She steepled her fingers over the photos, pushing them across the desk back to him.

Gold had expected the skepticism. He plucked the photo he’d taken of Miss French when the shutter of the camera had caught her by surprise. He remembered the moment when she had looked directly into his eyes, straight through the camera lens, her eyebrows perfectly arched and a little bit haughty. It had made a shiver run down his spine. “Regina, you’ve done aloof, emaciated, and charismatic. Let’s try character, spirit, and intelligence for a change.” He bent over the desk, placing the photograph directly in front of her.

She ignored the print, scrutinizing him instead. Her lips curled into a knowing smile, “This fashion house is not your own personal dating service.”

Gold shook his head in frustration, “Don’t be ridiculous. I am simply a peruser of beautiful things.”

“Is that what you call all that crap in your house?” she interjected.

He took a deep breath, “She is, objectively, a beautiful thing. She’ll photograph well,” he put bluntly.

Regina crossed her arms, still unconvinced, “Let me get this straight. You want me to pick a regular girl and build an entire collection around her?”

Before Gold could continue his reasoning, Jefferson strolled in, plucking an apple off the sideboard and chomping into it, “What’s up?”  

Regina sat back in her chair, “Gold wants to use that thing from the bookshop to sell clothes.”

Jefferson gasped, "Oh, she's a doll!” he exclaimed. “Literally, she's doll-sized."

Regina, sensing that Jefferson had discovered a bone and was preparing to run with it, held up a hand, "Don’t even ask, the thought of her makes me shudder."

Jefferson rushed at her, "I want to make doll-sized clothes for Gold's future wife, pretty pretty please!" He draped himself across the desk so she couldn’t ignore him. Gold opened his mouth to object to his description. “Wait!” Jefferson froze and the entire room went silent. “Wait, I got it!” he straightened. “The idea for the spring line.” Regina leaned forward, anticipating his next words.

Jefferson whirled to Gold, his long coat billowing, “You!”

Gold was perplexed, “Me?”

Jefferson danced around him, “You! The both of you! You and the librarian and your future children.”

Gold immediately bristled, “Now wait a min…”

“I’m going back to the homeland,” Jefferson announced. “Well, your homeland.”

“My homeland?”

“Shetland Island to be precise. I can see it now; artisanal crafts, woven rugs,” he looked to Regina, who was hanging onto his every word, “Celtic worsted wool plaid.” She clapped her hands.

“I’m from Glasgow,” Gold deadpanned. “Shetland Island is an entire ferry ride away.”

Jefferson snapped his fingers at Regina, “We’re going to need Shetland lace!” He lifted a sketch pad off the desk and started drawing.

Regina, thrilled to see Jefferson inspired and producing for her, sprung into action, shooting a series of emails off to Leroy in production. “We need the librarian’s measurements.” Regina was still doubtful about using the girl, but if it was going to get her the results she wanted, so be it. “Do we even know this bookworm’s name?”

“French,” Gold offered distractedly. “Her last name’s French.”

Regina gave him an eyebrow lift full of meaning and picked up the phone.

“There’s a large body of water between them,” Gold persisted. “The North Sea.”  

Jefferson turned back to a befuddled Gold, “Yes, darling, you can tell me all about it later. Now get out of my workroom,” he steered Gold out of the office, shutting the door behind him.  

“I need to you to get that girl from the library in here,” Regina spoke into the phone. “I don’t know, tell her we want to make a monetary contribution to her little pile of kindling.” She hung up, looking at Jefferson, “We’ll have to drug her to get her to Paris.”

“No,” he insisted, “true love will do it for us.”

_______________________________________

Belle double checked the address scribbled on the scrap paper and peeked up at the intimidating double doors before her. She’d received a message from those horrible fashion people who had wrecked her library. They wanted to make a donation for taking up so much of her time, but they requested they hand the check to her in-person. She had no desire to see any of those people, well, the majority of them, ever again. But a public library was in no position to turn down money, no matter who it came from, so she knocked.

“Come.” She hesitated at the abrupt demand but entered.

Belle literally stepped into another world. Everything was in black and white, including the lamps, pillars, and furniture. The walls were covered with harsh winter trees. To her right was a boardroom table that sat twelve.

“Belle!” She jumped at her name. The terrible woman who had banished her from her own library, Regina, approached. She took Belle’s hand in hers even though she hadn’t offered it, “It is Belle, isn’t it?”  She smiled, and Belle felt no warmth behind it.

“Yes,” she answered, stumbling a little as Regina scrutinized her. Whereas the woman had completely dismissed her in the library, now she was circling her, studying her with a shark-like focus.

Belle stiffened when Regina’s nails closed around her shoulder. “Straighten up, pull your shoulders back,” Regina ordered. “Posture is important. What are you, 5’2”?”

“Wha- yes.” She cleared her throat, “Storybrooke thanks you for your generosity, Ms. Mills.”

“My what? Oh,” she batted a hand, returning to her inspection. “Does that apron ever come off?” she took an experimental tug at the smock Belle wore to keep the book dust off her dress.

“Hey!” Belle gathered up her dress.

“The body’s good. You’ll do,” Regina pronounced. “You’ll have to,” she added to herself.

“Do for what?” she asked alarmed.

Just then, several of the workmen Belle recognized from the library burst into the room. A few of them held measuring tape and others clutched handfuls of cloth. They descended upon her without preamble. The fabric was thrust against her face and measuring tape was wound around her arms and neck.

“Lose the purple,” Regina commanded. “It washes her out.”  

“Hey, stop,” Belle jerked her arm out of someone’s grip. “I said stop!” her voice rang out above everyone’s murmuring. “This is my second and last encounter with you people. You keep your hands off me, all of you. I came here for a donation for the library. I do not need to be measured or primped, I’m fine the way I am! I’m leaving now and if anyone makes so much as a move to stop me, I’ll scream.”  

Belle broke away from the bodies circling her and sprinted out the doors and down the first hallway she saw. She heard Regina’s voice echoing behind her and one of the men hollering, “She went that way!” Belle broke into a light sweat as she hurried left. If she could just get away from these people, she’d never need to see them again. She heard work boots behind her. In front of her was an option of several identical doors. She picked one at random and threw the door open, slamming it behind her and collapsing against it.

“Didn’t you see the light on?” someone growled in the darkness.

Belle took in her surroundings. She was in a darkroom, the kind you developed pictures in. All the lights were off save for a few red light bulbs. She blinked, her eyes struggling to adjust to the dimness.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized immediately, “I’ll go.” She put her hand on the knob.

“Miss French?” a kinder tone asked. “What are you doing in here?” The photographer from the other day emerged from the edge of darkness. His jacket, vest, and tie were off and his shirtsleeves were rolled up.

Belle couldn’t help the relief that flooded her. Now filled with curiosity, she walked further into the room, “I didn’t know anyone still used rooms like this.”  

He smiled wryly, “I like developing the old-fashioned way. As long as it doesn’t hold up publishing, they let me do what I want.”

Work boots stopped outside the door. “You check the doors on the right,” one of the men called.

Belle looked at Gold with panicked doe eyes, “Please, don’t tell anyone I’m here,” she whispered.

“Who are you hiding from?” he mimicked her hiss.  

“Regina. She said she wanted to make a donation to the library…but I don’t think that’s why I was really brought here.”

Someone pounded on the door behind Belle, “Gold, you seen the library girl?”

She shook her head vigorously and Gold almost laughed at her comic desperation but kept it in check.

“No, go away, I’m working,” he called out in a growl that matched his earlier tone. The men retreated and Belle relaxed again.   

Gold returned to the trays of developer, picking up tongs and moving prints from fixer to the stop bath, “Well, you see that’s my fault. I thought you’d make a good model.”  

“A model?” she asked, confused. “But...I’m so short,” she finished weakly.

He smirked, “I wouldn’t take you to Paris if I didn’t think it would work.”

“Paris?” she perked up.

“Yes, for Jefferson’s show at Fashion Week.”  

“I couldn’t do that,” she answered automatically. She couldn’t leave the library, her father, her town.  

“It won’t be as bad as you think. Even if it is, you’ll be in Paris. You can drink all the Parisian coffee you want,” he teased.  

An image of sitting at an outdoor cafe once visited by Julia Child, the Eiffel Tower in the background, popped unbidden into Belle’s head. She’d been conjuring similar images her entire life. And when was she ever planning on living them out? “A means to an end,” she offered warily.  

“Or a means to a beginning,” he countered enticingly. He put the tongs down and faced her, “I’ll offer you a deal.”  

“A deal?” she asked tentatively.

“Yes, a deal. You agree to model for me, you get to go to Paris.” She bit her lip. “You did want to see the world after all,” he added as if it meant nothing to him. “You do a few photo shoots with me, walk the runway for Jefferson, and it’s done.”

He made it sound like making the leap from librarian to international jet-setting model was something she could do. It was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard. Still, just last week she was hoping to get a postcard from Paris. Now she was offered the opportunity to write her own. She’d been safe and sound her whole life. Here was an opportunity to be brave and venture out into the world, which is what she’d been claiming she wanted. She could tolerate Regina and her people for a week. They’d see she was no model quickly enough and leave her to explore on her own.   

“Deal.”