#I have seen this TWICE at two different museums in the last month

[betty-bourgeoisie]

Stop serving alcoholic in museum cafes or I swear to god I will single handedly restart the temperance movement

[kj-yikes]

12. Pine

(on ao3 here)

A summary, for context: Lena knows that Kara Danvers is the love of her life, but life always had different plans for them. Kara’s dream has always been to take over her family’s Christmas tree farm. Lena runs one of the most successful tech companies halfway across the country. They’re both happy with their lives, except for one thing.

Lena’s only in Midvale for the weekend to meet with the family lawyers to settle the Luthor estate. She definitely doesn’t have the time or mental energy to see Kara, after everything that’s happened between them. But will she see Kara anyway?

Or, an excerpt from the angsty high school sweethearts/situationship/‘Tis the Damn Season AU that’s been bouncing around in my head for months.

CW for marijuana use.

———

Lena’s phone buzzes in quick succession. Glancing down, she sees two Instagram notifications from kdanvers07 overlaid over the picture of her dog she has as her lock screen background.

Lena sighs. Lena’s not sure why she accepted the first Instagram direct message from Kara all those years ago. Her publicist is the one who had suggested (well, forced, rather) Lena to create a public social media profile. People like to see your day-to-day life. It makes you seem more human, her publicist had said. Lena really didn’t think people cared what she ate for breakfast or which dress she wore to last week's museum gala, but somehow, they had flocked to her account by the thousands. 

Kara likely hadn’t thought that Lena would ever see the initial direct message she had sent. Lena could scroll back through their message exchange to the beginning, but she knows it by heart.

It was in response to one of her first Instagram stories, a candid photo of Lena in front of a cake with a giant sparkler in the middle. Lena had her eyes closed, laughing and trying to block the photographer from taking the picture.

Happy birthday. You look just as gorgeous as ever, Kara had written. Lena had found it in her DMs by accident later that night, wine drunk and alone in her apartment. It had been five years since Lena had seen or even talked with Kara. 

Without thinking much about the implications, Lena had navigated to Kara’s profile. She had slowly scrolled through the photos – pictures of Kara at her favorite coffee shop, with her sister Alex at some undisclosed bar, playing board games with friends. 

Lena had lingered on one in particular: a candid of Kara walking away from the camera in the distance towards the edge of her family’s Christmas tree farm, looking over her left shoulder. Kara’s slim figure and broad shoulders were accentuated by the red flannel and tight jeans she was wearing, her long blonde hair down and wavy under her beanie. 

Lena had tapped twice to like it before she realized that it was a two year old photo. There was no undoing that impulsive mistake, so she had tapped the “follow” button and responded to Kara’s DM with a single red heart emoji. 

Lena swipes open the app and sees the two most recent messages from Kara. 

How long are you in Midvale for?

Can I see you?

Lena sighs. She’s only really in town for the weekend to deal with the issue of her parents’ estate. She doubts she’ll have time for much else, but… there’s always a but. Lena knows what will inevitably happen if they get together like the plot of her favorite book.

She recalls the last time she had been in Midvale, the last time she had seen Kara two years ago. Lena was in town, reluctantly, to visit her stepmother, Lillian, and things had gone poorly, as usual. Snide jabs at Lena throughout dinner weren’t anything out of the ordinary, but this particular dinner had been more vicious than usual. Despite everything, Lena was concerned that perhaps Lillian was getting lonely, here in this giant mansion without her husband and children. 

And then, Lillian had dropped the bomb on her.

Lena hadn’t known who else to call that night. Her best friend, Sam, was in Europe working on a merger, and would have long put her phone on do not disturb to get some sleep. And her brother, Lex, would have likely said something snarky about interrupting his evening’s activities before hanging up the phone and leaving Lena alone to her thoughts.

So she had pulled out her phone and messaged Kara, who picked her up in her old pickup truck at the end of the long driveway ten minutes later (despite the fact that Lena knew Kara’s apartment was fifteen minutes away). 

“You don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to,” Kara says, a hand on the wheel as she glances over at her in the passenger seat. “I thought we could just drive around for a while. Get you out of the house.” Lena nods.

”That sounds nice, thank you, Kara.” She picks at the cuticles of her fingers in her lap and looks out the window as the trees begin to thin out. Lena watches as they pass through the tiny town square of Midtown, then Kara takes a right and they head back out into the forest. Kara grabs her hand and brings it into her lap, entwined with hers.

Minutes pass, maybe hours. Lena’s not really sure, and she’s lost count of the songs that have played on the crackly radio from the local country station when she spies a familiar gate. The truck rumbles as Kara guides it onto gravel and slides it into park. With a smile, Kara squeezes her hand and opens the car door, hurrying around to open Lena’s before Lena can reach for the handle. 

The parking lot of the Christmas tree farm is completely empty. It’s late January — the part of the year where there's not much work on the farm. Kara grabs her hand and leads her to the bed of the pickup truck, opening the hatch and hopping up. Lena takes the offered hand and joins Kara.

Silently, Kara slides a flask and a hand-rolled joint from the pocket of her chore jacket and presents them to Lena, her eyebrows raised in question. Lena considers, then grabs the joint. Alcohol will just make her more morose. Kara smirks and pockets the flask, producing a lighter. Lena puts the joint in between her her lips, and Kara leans close to Lena to light the joint. Lena can't help but watch Kara's hands as she flicks the lighter.

Lena takes a drag and immediately, the tension in her neck releases. She closes her eyes, exhales. Her eyes open and immediately find Kara's deep blue eyes on her. Kara's cheeks redden slightly at getting caught staring, but she doesn't look away.

Lena pinches the joint between her fingers and passes it to Kara. Holding eye contact, Kara places it in between her lips. They look just as soft and plump as Lena remembers them.

Kara says nothing, waiting for Lena to be ready to talk, as they pass the joint back and forth. Lena's gaze wanders around the lot of the farm. So many memories here. All of them with Kara. It didn't feel like it at the time, but things were simpler back then, over a decade ago. Over a decade since Lena's lived in Midvale, and yet she's back here again, at the Danvers Family Christmas Tree Farm, with Kara. Getting high. Upset about her family.

Time is funny.

"Lionel was my biological father," Lena says, breaking the silence. Kara looks up at her, surprised. "Lillian told me at dinner."

"He never told you."

"No." Lena's eyes meet Kara's again. Kara understands. Kara was there when Lionel died. Kara knows the complexities of Lena's relationship with her father.

Kara searches Lena's face. "Lena, this doesn't change anything about who you are as a person."

Lena's eyes shut, and she lets out a small laugh. Years apart, and it's like no time has passed. Kara still not only knows how Lena's brain works, she also never fails to say so.

It's frustrating. It makes her heart soar, to be so well understood.

"Yeah, I know," she says. She drops the joint to the floor of the truck and puts it out with her boot. "Still hurts, though." Kara notices the tears Lena tries so hard to not let fall. She crosses over to Lena's side of the truck and sits next to her, leaning against the cold metal of the truck. She seems to hesitate for a moment, then grabs both of Lena's hands in hers.

Lena needs more, though. She pulls her hands back and instead tucks her head onto Kara's shoulder. She feels Kara smile as her strong hands wrap around Lena's waist.

Lena cries, and Kara holds her, occasionally giving her tight squeezes and rubbing her back. Eventually, the tears run out.

-----

"Katie Roberts really tried to get you to join her MLM?" Lena asks, laughing. Her head is buzzing pleasantly, and she feels every inch of Kara's body underneath her. "Wasn't she the valedictorian of the class below you?" Kara's eyes shine in the moonlight as she chuckles. They're laying in the bed of the truck, Lena's head on Kara's chest and Kara's arms around Lena. They had moved to lay down under the pretense of stargazing, the pine trees of the farm towering around them. A head on a shoulder turned into full on cuddling within minutes. Despite the years apart, it feels so normal, so comforting. Kara always had that effect on Lena.

"Yep. How the mighty have fallen," Kara jokes. Lena giggles again and shakes her head.

"Truly Midvale's finest." Lena watches Kara laugh, how her tongue presses to the insides of her teeth as she tries not to bust out laughing, how her eyes close happily. It's always so easy, being with Kara. That was never the hard part of their relationship. The hard part was always their different plans for life, their families' plans for their lives. Plans that Kara and Lena could never seem to fit together.

Lena doesn't notice when Kara catches her staring, too caught up in her memories of when things were easier for them. Kara's snort pulls her from her thoughts.

"What?" Kara shakes her head, a smug smile on her face.

"You better be careful, Miss Luthor. You know how handsy I get when I'm high."

Lena smirks, raising an eyebrow.

"And?" Kara eyes light with desire. She smiles goofily, and Lena rolls to straddle her. She places a hand on either side of Kara's face.

"Oh." Kara giggles softly. Lena takes in Kara's sapphire eyes looking up at her — a more beautiful sight than the stars above her, before leaning in to capture Kara's soft, pink lips.

It's like coming home. She lets out a soft moan as Kara grabs her hips and pulls her closer.

God, why didn't Lena come to Midvale more often? Why did they ever decide that long distance wasn't for them? Lena can't remember. Kara's tongue is sliding into her mouth and her teeth are biting Lena's bottom lip and Lena can't help but to melt into Kara over and over again.

Kissing Kara is as grounding as it is erotic. Every thought of her family flies out of her head and is replaced with Kara's calloused hands cupping her cheeks, her lips pressing over and over against Lena's. She's missed this so much. Lena cards her fingers through Kara's hair, and a groan drops from Kara's lips. It awakens something in Lena's lower belly, and she tugs harder, pulling Kara closer and closer.

Somehow, Lena's bra ends up shoved in the corner of the truck bed. Their kisses are eager, but slow, melding into each other as Kara traces her fingertips across the sides of Lena's breasts underneath her sweater. Kara's chore jacket is halfway off, pushed to her elbows but still caught underneath her.

“Stay over,” Kara says breathlessly, pulling away from Lena’s lips and pressing her forehead to Lena’s. “I don’t want you to have to go back there tonight.” Lena’s already shaking her head. God, she wants to. But It's not a good idea. Her high has worn off slightly, and she knows that she'd be in for another argument with Lillian if she isn't there in the morning. And she'd have to explain to Lillian where she was, and Lillian always disliked Kara. It was bound to make a complicated situation worse.

“I can’t. All my stuff is still there, and… I‘m going to have to talk to her eventually,” she finishes lamely. Kara’s mouth is opening in protest, but Lena cuts her off gently. “I appreciate the offer, Kara, but Lillian’s probably already asleep. I won’t have to deal with her until morning, and if I need rescuing again, I’ll call. I promise.” 

If Kara is hurt by this gentle let down, it doesn’t show on her face. She nods resolutely, then captures Lena’s lips in a soft kiss before sitting up. Lena reluctantly rolls off Kara. She doesn't want to stop kissing Kara, but.

“Let’s get out of here, then. It's freezing." Kara offers Lena a hand, and she grabs it, standing. Kara supports her as she maneuvers her way down from the cab of the truck. Kara hops down after her and moves to open the passenger side door. Her hand hovers over the handle, and she looks like she wants to say something else, but after a moment, her blonde waves bounce as she gives her head a little shake.

The drive to the Luthor mansion is silent, but not unpleasantly so. Kara pulls up to the end of the driveway at the gate and lets the car idle. 

“I really appreciate it, Kara. You didn’t have to come get me,” Lena says quietly. It’s dark, but Lena can see Kara's

“It’s no big deal, Lena. Plus, it’s not every day I get to see you.” Kara’s smile looks genuine. “I…miss you.” 

Lena nods. “Yeah. Me too.” She leans over the console and presses her lips to Kara’s softly, gently, only for a few moments, trying to convey to Kara everything she's feeling. Kara’s eyes are still blissfully shut when Lena pulls away and opens the car door.

It's not until Lena's back in her room, laying in her bed, that she realizes her bra is still in the bed of Kara's truck.

------

Lena reads Kara's two DMs again.

How long are you in Midvale for?

Can I see you?

Two simple questions, but so loaded. Lena's torn. The last time she saw Kara, they had almost slept together, and then Lena left town.

She hadn't wanted to leave without saying goodbye to Kara. Her departure had been hasty, and then the chaos of work pushed the events in Midvale aside. It wasn't until days later that she had messaged Kara an apology, to which she had never received a reply. Until today.

I can’t. I’m here to settle the estate, and that’s it. I’m sorry, she types out. Her finger hovers over the send button. It's for the best, she thinks. On top of everything, Lena's not sure she can handle another complicated situation. Nothing's changed between their life circumstances. Lena still runs a company in National City. Kara still runs her family's farm here in Midvale. Neither of them were ever willing to compromise those things for each other. Her heart squeezes painfully as she hits the send button.

Kara's read receipt turns on. She's seen the message. Lena watches as the text bubble appears, disappears, appears, disappears.

I understand. You do what you need to do, Lena. <3

I'm here if you change your mind.

Lena, inevitably, changes her mind by the end of the weekend.

[tropicalrpg]

20 a response

i don't know if i ever loved you. i must not have. i don't think i did, actually; it's not not knowing, it's knowing not.

i wanted you; was that not enough?

for every your loving me, i tried to love you back twice as much. i wanted to love you desperately, crazily, because for once i could see not only that someone yearned for all i hated about myself, but someone good saw good in me. and knew me. you knew me and we were so alike, and you looked at me despite my hating being seen. you saw me. you saw good in me. you were good. you could be likened to everything i wanted most, everything i liked best. i tried so hard to be good to you. i like to believe i was; i teetered constantly on the edge of truth, because i wanted you but i didn't want you to be hurt in case i wasn't capable of getting myself to love you. i still have yet to love you, i think. but i come to you like coming home. i trust you to be there at my beck and call, and i think in this way, too, i mistreated you.

it's just been a rough couple years. it's been a lonely few years. i've scarcely known what it is, being wanted. if you weren't the last, you were one of the latest. you were—and damnit, i don't want to put on your shoulders a weight that is unfair for you to carry—the truest. you were sweet and reliable. in my head, we were truly compatible, even if in practice sometimes it was hard to coexist with you. you were what i would like to believe i deserved.

and i could never have you. because you deserved more than me, because our timing was always off, because we hung around the same spaces and so yeah, perhaps you were in love with me, but i think you fucked my friend and almost fucked another one. (and the word i use is harsh because when it comes down to it i'm envious of them for having gotten more of you than i did, even though i came first). all the power to you, and i don't blame you or them for it; if i were you, i think i'd have taken the opportunities you got. you deserved every last one of them. in this, too, i was undeserving; i never acted, no matter the fact that i wanted you. i could've done something. i could've kissed you, lit the spark, taken the leap.

i've been thinking of your lips since a week after i met you. i've been thinking of your hands and wrists since you touched me for the first time. i've been thinking of you since you first thought of me, i think.

i write about you so vaguely because every day i know you less. i'm stuck in the teenage years that everyone around me has gotten over. i know you at fifteen, your eyes bright, your dreams different. i know you, i'd like to believe. still. but i know i don't.

go for a run with me. invite me to see you play; serenade me. slow dance with me like i've been dreaming of for years. let me meet your mom (i know that's a lot). hear my most intimate sounds like i shouldn't have suggested that time. be open and honest with me. hold me, because i'm small and i yearn, and i've been looking around every corner for you for the past two months, and my eyes thirst with your absences.

go on a date with me, joão. just one and i'll get out of your hair. i'll let you live your life without wanting to drag you right back to me. go with me to the museum and tell me about space. let's go back to the bamboo forest. let me kiss you just once, amid the trees, and i'll crawl back into the burrow i never was supposed to leave.

20230512

[suryp]

Date: Last Sunrise Year: First in Tartyry's Region: Dark Forest

It was months, at least, since I'd seen a human, or at least their heads. My team was long dead, and the only company I had was their killer, and the bird.

After that confrontation, it hadn't spoken to me, and I'd never given an answer to it's question, but the thing had attempted to keep me alive all that time, and the human body is very good at Not Dying.

I'm sure the higher-ups still though I was gone, though. Banshees were famously aggressive to soldiers, especially after the years of contact, and almost no one was willing to cross the Tartyryn Wall these days.

Not sure why I was deemed "better."

Probably inexperience. Banshee could stand twice as tall as any human, far as I knew, but even at full height my new "friend" was short of that.

They still had power, though.

for my part, I'd made sure to eat as little as I could, when I really had the choice, and always stayed on the move, towards the Night Forest.

May as well make it easier.

At the very edge of the second Tartyryn continent, rocky shore just behind me, I took rest under the first tree I'd seen since... well, not quite since coming to Tartyrys, but a long while still.

And I took in the view.

The sunset, with a storm just in sight, was gorgeous. Reflecting off the ice, snow, and clouds, it was like a painting you'd see in some royal museum. probably.

I hoped to never forget that scene.

And then, taking out a hunk of flesh, I slept.

I awoke to the crunching of bone, and immediately rose to get a better look, and seem more intimidating.

It might've gotten me killed, too, but what sat before me was only the follower I'd had all along.

And a skei'yd pup, only as large as the banshees skull.

*crunch, cryk, crack, swallow*

"Hello. "

"Snack for the road?"

"No."

"...understood."

"...won't eat."

"..."

"...help?'

"...what?"

"help. help eat."

"so it..."

"..."

"needs help eating. And... you want me to help it?"

"yes."

"why?"

"mammal."

"ok, first off, we are two completely different species. I know nothing about rats.

"not r-"

"second, I dont make milk."

"...milk?"

"...yeah. it's what... mammal babies need. mothers make it. it comes from tits."

Turning their massive head upwards, it began to make an awkward wretching sound, and attempted to puke something up, before turning down to the pup, with a jaw filled with some pale and slightly pinkish liquid.

*mrip? snf, snf*

*slp slp slp slp*

"...maybe it's not just mothers."

*clop, swallow* "...am mother."

"...I see."

"but is not just mothers."

"...ok. I-"

"Or banshee."

And then, back to nursing.

I was a tad uncomfortable, giant bird women more than twice your size who can crush steel plate would do that, but so was that revelation.

It would explain where some of my cousins went and came from, though.

Still, it hardly mattered. I still had a mission to attend to, and it couldn't be completed with her around.

So I left.

The Night Forest is a dangerous place, everyone knew that.

So why was I alive?

I'd been loud, conspicuous, and hadn't even tried to hide myself. predators were sure to know where I was by now. Where were the t'rrarr, the hellhounds, the owlbear, the cockatrice? at the very least a h'ghurk should've come for me, the demons were drawn to any loud sound or mammalian smell...

But I was alive. Perhaps, so far south, winter was too cold for such aggressive killers. I'd have to head further north, or simply wait.

I looked into the dark, dense forest, attempting to figure out where I had or hadn't been.

But I didn't know which way was north. And I'd certainly made a few curves in my path.

So, I collected a few fruits from the lowest growing conifers, a couple cones off the forest floor, and went back.

According to Ember, the banshee, the fruit I had was safe.

I still tested some, just in case, but all for naught.

Syll liked them, at least.

Ember named him, after what seemed to be it's first sign of intelligence, in this case, using a known sound of pain to refuse food.

Granted, it did sound roughly like a skei'yd name, as far as I knew.

Ember also questioned why they would want the berries, to which I nearly scoffed.

"Skei'yd are omnivores, you can tell by the teeth Besides, fruit's a good first solid for any baby"

"thought "two completely different species. I know nothing about rats.""

"...I don't know how to take care of one."

"just did."

"Listen, anyone could've figured that out-"

"not me."

"I'm still not a good choice for help."

"maybe."

"Maybe you can not mimic my voice next time? It's real creepy."

"ok."

"...thanks."

*prrip!*

-

told yall itd tie in!

still have a long way to go though, and honestly? not real sure how im gonna start there, but we will. prommy.

in other news, fauna!

t'rrarr are... monkey-like animals. similar to chimps in build but a few notable distinctions. we'll talk about it later.

h'ghurk are also going to be talked about later. should be pretty familiar, but for now all you need to is they are very deadly and banshees name most animals based on their noises.

also, skei'yd updates! they're a lot more similar to the sheatheran theropodents, by sheather, who is a fantastic fucking person. yall'lle get a proper intro when Syll grows up, and we'll get a proper intro to Ember and banshees when we get an Ember narration.

see yall soon!!

[malereader-inserts]

Happiest Year

Fandom: Avengers Pairing: Avengers & Male!Reader Summary: Your statement is vague - they just did the best the can to counter it. Word Count: 1,485 Warning: Death

“By the end of the year,” You say, as you and the team overlook the lake, “I’ll be dead.”

“What?” Tony exclaimed as you chuckled.

It was January first, the night of celebrating the new year had truly hit the team hard. So, the majority of them were out by the docks with you, getting fresh air hoping it would wash away the hungover they were experiencing. It was a nice bitter morning, the cold was nipping at your nose.

Clearly, January would be cold.

“I just have a feeling, you know?” You answered, groaning as you wave them off, “Well,  my hungover is fading off - I’m going inside.”

It was the last time you mentioned it, but that doesn’t stop the team thinking about it. They don’t know what you meant by that statement, but they did anything to prevent a death. January was the longest ever month, everyone could feel it. But, with the snow in New York - they made the most of it. 

They haven’t seen you with so much joy before when playing with snow. It was almost weekly to make the best fort in teams, there were meetings of teams to create the best one before actually making it in the allotted day and time.

When the snow started to melt away and warmer days were arriving, the team had to think of new ways of keeping your life a little bit more exciting. Tony had the great idea of taking you to places you’ve never been before.

First of all, it was a trip around America, taking you to places you would love to visit. Natasha got great pictures of you and the team if Natasha was in the picture she either got one of the boys to take pictures or a stranger. 

You went hiking, went to explore the colours of Antelope Canyon. Took a trip to Savannah in Georgia, you got taken to see the sunflowers in Kansas. And you decided to get pulled into a trip to New Orleans. At Minnesota, you got various pictures with the Peanut character statues, Peter was too happy about this trip - he loved every minute of it.

You enjoyed the Smithsonian museum, you’ve been dying to see it - you dragged Steve around because he was equally excited to learn. When you visited each state to do something because Tony owns a jet and it was easy to move quicker.

He takes you to Tokyo and part of Japan. You visited stores of various shows and movies you love, you take part in trying new food. He takes you to one of the Scandinavian countries so you could witness the Northern lights, they were so pretty - but not as pretty as your face as it lights up. 

He brings you to different countries to taste their cuisine. Bucky was fond of Italian whilst Sam likes to argue that France had better food, Clint was just happy to be included. 

Natasha had started an album of places, one album dedicated to the US - it was full to the brim with pictures of you and the team. You never thought that she was a type of person to be scrapbooking, but she made you do the writing. 

You don’t question her.

There’s another album for Asian and Europe countries you have visited, with the European scrapbook, everyone had a different coloured pen to add their contribution of notes. 

You travel to South America, get to live the carnival life in Brazil. Somehow in between travelling, you get to enjoy the 4th of July back home in New York. You enjoyed immersing yourself in different culture during the summer until you were worn out of travelling by the end of August. 

You don’t know how you managed to keep travelling whilst some of the team were being sent off to deal with enemies. Not once, Nick had sent you away to a mission - the team asked, you never gave them a solid answer.

September was the start of autumn, it was the excuse of you guys taking a break from travelling. You helped Natasha finish the books, even helping her to make them look pretty by making some borders on some of the pictures.

October rolls in, it’s spooky season as Peter proclaims. You visit corn mazes, pumpkin picking. You make jack o lanterns, watch horror films. You had a blast in the Halloween party, you got to dress up once again.

By November, the team started to notice something wasn’t right. You had no energy to stand up, you were constantly sitting down. You were always cold, they thought because the temperatures had started to drop drastically, but even with the heating on in the Avenger base, you were bundled up in a blanket and your thickest hoodie.

“Still cold?” Bruce asked you, handing you a hot chocolate - noticing your shaky hands.

“Unbelievably,” You responded, there were tints of blue upon your lips.

You could barely keep food down in you, sometimes you were too tired to even make yourself food and hold a fork up to your lips. You were sick and it doesn’t seem like you were able to recover.

That was until by the end of November, you were hospitalised. For a week, the team was in the dark about the situation. There was a lot of talks between Nick and the doctor, between you and Nick, between you and the doctor.

“It seems like they’ll have to know,” You spoke softly, rough at the edges as if you haven’t been drinking water.

“Yeah, don’t suppose you want to tell them?” Nick asked, hoping it would bring out a smile to you.

“I wouldn’t be able to look of hurt in their eyes.”

Nick breaks them the news.

You’re dying, you have known this fact since the start of the year. Did you mean to keep that information from them? No, it never came up. You knew there was no cure, and you hated that. You’re a superhero, people look at you expecting you’re untouchable. 

Nick never wanted to send you out for a mission, he wanted you last year to be one to remember. 

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Steve asked, looking at you in the hospital bed.

“You never asked.”

“Is-” Bruce lets out a heavy sigh before continuing, “Is there a cure at all?”

“If there was I wouldn’t have told you I would be dead by the end of the year,” You answered, you let out a cough.

“Why?” Tony whispered, brushing your hair, “Why did you hide it from me? From us?”

“It was easier.”

The team looked at you, you look fragile, there was a clear loss of weight and you were too weak to even pick up stuff. You were a concerning paler shade of your skin tone. Sweat dripping from your forehead and you were shaking. Every so often you would cough so violently, a wheeze would escape your mouth - god it hurt you so much, the team could tell that. 

“A superhero is not immune to diseases with no cure,” You chuckled to yourself, no one joins you - they look at you with pain in their eyes. “I just want to thank you though.”

“For what?” Steve whispers, if he speaks any louder - he fears his voice will break.

“Thank you for the happiest year of my life.”

You died in your sleep at the age of twenty six. They didn’t expect it because despite two weeks composed of bad days, that one day, you were actually better.

But it didn’t matter. Because the team was there with him. Steve held your hand as you slept, held you even when the doctors came and told them you were no more. The team didn’t cry. They didn’t beg them to try again. Because that night when you were supposed to be unconscious, Steve felt you squeeze his hand twice.

It was your own way of saying Thank You.

Thanking them that they stayed by your side to the end.

The funeral was simple, after all, you were a simple man. It was just the team and people who truly knew you. They couldn’t hold back the tears, the funeral was quiet sobs, they couldn’t bare to look at the smiling picture that was present in front of them.

Christmas wasn’t the same without you, there was an empty part of the team. the new year came around, they drank so much that they regret it. They found themselves back at the dock, fresh air will help their hangover.

It’s been a year since you announced that you will be dying at the end of the year.

At least, in their mind, they gave you the happiest year - that’s all it matters.

You were happy and content with the life you have had. 

They were happy to be a part of your life.

[staticscreenwriting]

Love like the movies // Bucky Barnes

One - When Harry met Sally 

Synopsis: This is a story of boy meets girl. The boy, Bucky Barnes, finds himself thrown into a world that seems so different from everything he’s ever known. Growing  up, Bucky had not a doubt in his mind that his undeniable charm and his gorgeous smile would one day help him find the one. Now he realizes there’s so much more to romancing women, especially those from the 21st century. The girl, (Y/N) knows entirely too much about rom-coms and is quite particular about the way she eats her popcorn. Bucky meets (Y/N) a few months after returning to NYC. He knows almost immediately that becoming her friend is inevitable. This is a story of boy meets girl. This is not a love story. This is a story about love. (Bucky Barnes x female!Reader // a few spoilers for EP1 of TFATWS)

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

“ Now in the movies they make it look so perfect And in the background they're always playing the right song And in the ending there's always a resolution But real life is more than just two hours long “

Some Avett Brothers song sounds from the little radio that sits on the corner of the counter. Thick drops of rain pearl against the window, racing each other down the glass before meeting up eventually and becoming one with each other. 

(Y/N) refills the last of the mustard bottles, setting it on the counter next to the others. It’s a quiet night at the diner. The kitchen’s been closed for an hour now and usually, that’s when people stop coming in. While the Little Blue Diner is known for their hot dogs and burgers, neither their coffee nor their cold sandwiches are gonna win any prizes any time soon. 

And yet …

Sure enough, as her eyes lift towards the figure slouched down in the corner booth, his gloved hand is already outstretched, signaling his desire for yet another refill.

A mixture between a chuckle and a scoff tumbles from her lips at the thought of him wanting more of the slightly burned liquid. If there’s one thing (Y/N) can admit to being bad at, it’s brewing coffee. Where there should be a rich brown color, hers usually ends up with an inky black hue and instead of leaving a hint of warm caramelization on your tongue hers just tastes bitter. It doesn’t seem to face the man in the corner though. Not even a little bit. To say this worries her is a bit of an understatement. No one in their right mind would take 7 refills of her witch's brew.

“ You okay, my dude ? “ (Y/N) inquires as she steps up to his table, coffee pot in hand. 

The man doesn’t look up at her. He doesn’t have to. She’s acutely aware of the character currently occupying the corner booth. It’s a face she knows like the back of her hand. One that’s been staring at her from books and documentaries, one she’s been greeted by every time her dad took her with him to the Smithsonian. Though they do not dare look up at her, she’s so awfully familiar with the bright blue shade of his eyes, he might as well be a long-time friend. 

“ I’m fine. “ 

Of all the lies in the world, “I’m fine” must be the most unbelievable one and yet the one told most often. No one who’s actually fine ever says those words. Those two words are reserved for the lonely and broken only. It’s like getting ��I’m not fine at all” tattooed across your goddamn forehead. 

“ Sure you are, that’s why you’re having the 7th refill of my god awful coffee. “ 

“ ‘s not that bad. “ 

“ Sure, if you’re into licking charcoal it’s probably not that bad. “

It’s just a split of a second, a fraction of a moment, but (Y/N) is sure she can see the corner of his lips lifting slightly. It falls back into the stoic scowl immediately but it was there. For a teeny tiny moment, there was the shadow of a smirk on his face and that’s a success in her book. 

“ Either way, here’s how we’re gonna do this. I’ll give you one last refill, after that, I’m cutting you off, my friend. I know I’m a waitress and it’s my job to bring you what you want but I do not fancy watching you suffer a caffeine-induced heart attack in this very diner. I am not equipped to handle a situation like that and quite honestly they don’t pay me enough to deal with that either. “ 

His eyes are still trained on the scratched-up white linoleum table but ever so faintly he nods his head in silent agreement. 

As promised, she pours him one last cup of coffee. A brew so dark it could rival the bubbling goo of a tar pit. 

“ Enjoy your last cup of the night, Mr. Barnes. “ 

It’s then, as she’s just about to walk back behind the counter, as those words leave her lips, that he looks up for the first time since he’s walked in. 

His eyes are the exact shade of blue she’s so familiar with but there’s something else about them. An infinite sadness haunts every spec of blue. Where she thought there would be a sparkle of adventure, a hint of mischief, there is just loneliness. This is not the man she’s read about in museums, heard about in stories. This man right here is completely and utterly lost.

“ I - I uh — “ 

He clears his throat, once, twice, then nervously brushes his hand across his face. 

“ I can go if you don’t want me here. “ 

“ Huh? “ 

“ I asked if you want me to leave. “ 

As those words escape him, his eyes seem to grow even more devastated. They glimmer with memories of a time long gone and a future uncertain. Shine with hurt and fear. 

“ Why would I ask you to leave? “ 

Bucky shrugs his shoulders in a way to make it look nonchalantly. It’s hard to seem casual though when you seem to carry the weight of the entire world on your shoulders. 

“ People who recognize me usually aren’t so keen on having me around. I don’t know if you’ve heard but I’m uh — I’m not people’s favorite person. “ 

It’s a sad thought, (Y/N) realizes, to be constantly bound to a past that is yours but never really belongs to you. To be forever linked with the horrible actions of a version of yourself you had no control over. And no matter how hard you try to set it all right and to repent for your wrongdoings, to some people it will never be enough.

“ No, you don’t have to leave, “ (Y/N) reassures before sliding into the booth opposite him. “ I don’t know you because of — because of what happened. I know you first and foremost as Sergeant Barnes, former officer of the 107th Infantry Regiment, part of the Howling Commandos, and best friend and brother to Steve Rogers. Everything else that’s — none of my business really. “ 

Bucky lifts his eyes off of the table again and while the sadness is still there, something else lingers for a moment. Curiosity, intrigue maybe, or just relief. 

“ Wow. Didn’t think I’d run into someone reciting my life to me. Huh. “ 

“ My dad used to be a curator at the Smithsonian. He was in charge of the Captain America exhibition. I’ve seen your face a million times, visiting him at work. I gotta say though, you look way more approachable and friendly on the picture they put up. “ 

This time, it’s more than a fleeting moment, this time she’s sure about it, this time he lets out an actual chuckle. 

“ I was a lot younger then, okay? Cut an old man some slack. “ 

“ Oh, you pulling the old man card now? “ 

“ Is it working? “ he asks, eyebrows raised in question. 

“ Not really. “ 

“ Ah, what a shame.” 

Silence settles upon them again like a thick duvet filled with feathers, it’s not uncomfortable but it’s smothering anyway.

“ Do you wanna talk about it? Your sour mood, I mean.” 

Bucky shrugs again “I have a therapist.” 

“ Does she make you draw your feelings? “ 

He smiles again at that question. His smile, (Y/N) thinks, ain’t the worst thing she’s ever seen. She wouldn’t mind seeing it more often.

“ No. Why? “ 

“ Mine did. She stopped pretty quickly though, I guess my drawings were too detailed and gory for her.” 

“ Huh. “ 

“ Mmmh.” 

After another sip of coffee, one he takes without grimacing, without showing any sign of disgust for the burnt brew, Bucky speaks up again.

“ Mine thinks I’m lying to her. “ 

“ Are you ?” 

“ Well yeah, but she doesn’t need to know that.” 

“ Maybe telling her the truth would help you. “ (Y/N) suggests only to be met with a determined head shake No from Bucky. 

The notification sound of a phone pulls them from their conversation and at the sight of the name on the display, Bucky lets an “oh shit” slip from his lips.

“ Don’t you sound excited about getting texts from your friends, “ (Y/N) jokes

“ I had a date last night. That’s her. “ 

“ Since she’s texting you I assume it went well. “ 

Bucky grimaces at her words, slightly shaking his head in disagreement.

“ No? “ 

“ I mean, I had fun and it went well — at first. She’s really sweet. But then we started talking and I may have run. “ 

“ Ran where? “ 

“ Away. “ 

“ Away as in you left. “ 

“ Mm-mmh” 

“ Just like that? “ 

“ Yup. “ 

“ Why? “ 

He throws up his arms in frustration and shakes his head again as if to gather all his thoughts and rattle them neatly back into place. 

“ I don’t know, okay? I haven’t been on a date since the 1940s. Everything I know about women and dating and romance seems antiquated. I’m overwhelmed and confused and I just don’t wanna do anything wrong.” 

“ Dude, you ran from your date without any explanation. How much worse could you have handled it? “ 

“ Yeah well, hindsight is 20/20. “ 

While his words try to sound light and nonchalant, his shoulders tense and his whole demeanor seems to shift back into the gloomy state he’s been in since he entered the diner. Like a big cloud that’s following him around, casting shadows at all times and hardly allowing any light to shine through.

“ Look, I don’t think any of us know what the heck we’re doing half the time. Like, trust me I know what I’m talking about. Online dating means I have to choose between men who think posing with a dead fish will make me want to sleep with them, men who think knowing obscure Star Wars facts can replace having an actual personality, and men who send me pictures of their … privates without me ever giving any indication of wanting to see those. So yeah — dating can really s - be frustrating. “ 

Bucky regards her for a second, the right corner of his lips pulled into a lazy lopsided smirk.

“ Did you just censor yourself because you don’t wanna swear around me ?” 

“ Maybe, but that’s beside the point. The point is, we’re all just human and in the end, we’re all just looking for someone to like us the way we are, all quirks and issues and baggage included. I know women might seem intimidating but really all we want is to be loved and appreciated. And not the over-the-top build-you-a-house, the notebook kind of love. More like the Harry and Sally kind.“ 

(Y/N) can almost see the gears working inside Bucky’s brain, the desperate attempt to make any sense of all the words and phrases she’s just thrown at him. A jumbled mess of pop culture references swirls through his head like a swarm of bees, chaotic and messy. 

“ I have no idea what you just said. “ 

“ When Harry met Sally? “

Bucky just shrugs and shakes his head.

“ You’ve never seen it? “ 

“ I’ve been a bit preoccupied with being blipped away into oblivion for the last 5 years. So I haven’t really had the time to get into movies yet. “ 

This time it’s the gears in her own head that start turning. 

“ What are you doing Friday night ? “ she asks, biting her lip in nervous anticipation.

“ I — I don’t know. “ 

That’s a bit of a lie, really. He does know. It’s the same thing he does pretty much every other day. He gets some takeout, brings it home, sits down in front of the tv, tries to get lost in whatever show they put on, fails at doing so, reads a few pages of a book, lays down to sleep, and then wakes up a little while later to yet another nightmare, tangled up in sweaty sheets, heart racing. 

(Y/N) doesn’t need to know any of that though. He doesn’t tell his therapist so why would he tell a random stranger.

“ Well, don’t make any plans. We’re gonna kill 2 birds with 1 stone. “ 

“ We are? “ 

“ Yeah. Trust me on this one. “ 

“ I don’t even know you. “ 

“ Sure you do. “ (Y/N) says and taps the tag pinned to her baby blue polo shirt with the diner’s logo on the back.  “ I’m the one who serves you just enough coffee to keep you happy but not have you die a painful and honestly mildly embarrassing death. “ 

Every part of him screams at him to say no. To stay away from her the way he does from most other people, even Sam. To get up and get out and not cause any more damage than he already has in other people’s life. But then he remembers his therapist's words, he remembers Leah’s face full of confusion and disappointment, he remembers the empty feeling in his chest. That feeling of pure and utter loneliness. 

“ Alright, Friday works for me, (Y/N). “ 

“ Perfect, Bucky. “ 

“ Bring a jacket. “ 

The address and “Bring a jacket” that’s all she’s texted him. No explanation, no plan, nothing. 

Bucks leans against the streetlamp, hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his leather jacket. Anxiety is washing through his system like tidal waves on a stormy ocean. This whole being spontaneous thing was much easier back in the 40s. When his shoulders weren’t so heavy with guilt. When he didn’t have to constantly face the consequences of his actions. Consequences of a past he can never quite outrun no matter how far he goes and how hard he tries. 

Maybe this is good, he has to remind himself. Getting out of his comfort zone, if that even exists for him. Opening himself up to new opportunities. Maybe even make a friend. (Y/N) seem nice enough, if a bit peculiar. 

His shrink would be proud of him. Getting out there, talking to people, being approachable. This must for sure earn him some kind of gold star equivalent in her notebook. 

“ Hey there, Mr. Grumpyface. “ 

(Y/N)'s voice cuts through the chilly New York night like headlights through thick fog. She strolls towards him, lips pulled into a big bright smile. Leading up to tonight he’s spent quite a lot of time wondering if this is some kind of project for her, if maybe she sees him as a sort of charity case. Something to earn her karma points. It wouldn’t be the first time. But the genuine joy radiating from her face lets those worries melt away instantly. 

Maybe, Bucky thinks, she really just thinks he’ll make a good friend. And maybe he can. 

“ Hi, (Y/N). “

“ You brought a jacket” she points out, pinching the black leather between her fingers. Her nails are painted in various shades of red, each finger a different hue. 

“ I did. You told me to. “

“ And you listened! “ 

“ Why wouldn’t I ? “ Bucky inquires, a look of confusion settling on his face.

“ You wouldn’t believe how many men think wearing a jacket when it’s cold out somehow clashes with their need to demonstrate their masculinity. “ 

“ Wow. “ he exclaims.

“ Yeah. So anyway, you ready to go up? “ 

She nods her head towards the house across the street. It’s a slim multiple-story brick building with rusty fire escapes. It looks like a residential lot, not much else that could give away (Y/N)’s plan for the rest of the night.

“ Up? “ 

“ Mm-mh. “ (Y/N) nods and motions towards the top of the building. “ to the roof. “ 

“ The roof? You’re not planning to push me off or anything, right? I don’t usually spend time with strangers on rooftops. “ he tells her, a smirk lifting the sides of his lips.

She grants him a smile in return. One of those that you try so hard to suppress but despite your best efforts they find their way onto your face anyway. Because some smiles demand to be smiled. And her smile is pretty cute, he thinks, it deserves to be seen. 

“ Foiled again, damn Bucky. I’m a waitress with a useless degree in literature and creative writing but assassinating you was exactly what I had planned for tonight. Couldn’t let me have that one, huh? “ 

“ Sorry to spoil all the fun. “ 

She softly bumps her shoulder against his right side as she passes him and crosses the street. Her red skirt flutters around her knees like a ribbon of fire, bright and warm and —

“ You coming, grumpy ?” 

“ Yeah uh — yeah sure. “ 

The walk upstairs is filled with chatter from her and nodding from Bucky. It’s been like this most of the time since — well since he’s really back. Other people usually do the talking and Bucky listens. It works most of the time. Works with Yori. Sometimes though, sometimes it doesn’t. He can see people getting frustrated with him. Hell his own therapist does and she knows the baggage he has to carry around. 

This is different though, (Y/N) doesn’t seem to mind much. She’s a waterfall of words and topics and doesn’t seem to get bored or annoyed with him. It’s nice. 

A heavy iron door swings open as they reach the top of the building and as soon as they step out onto the rooftop balcony they get engulfed in an ocean of lights. They’re strung from one end of the roof to the other and back again. Next to the door, a little makeshift bar is set up, and a guy in a Star Wars shirt hands out beers to people. 

Multicolored deck chairs and beanbags are haphazardly placed across the entire roof, all pointing towards the corner furthest away from the door where a big white sheet hangs spanned between two poles. 

“ Sooo you gonna tell me what we’re doing here? “ Bucky asks again as (Y/N) steers him towards a cluster of chairs in the back. 

“ Some peeps I went to university with, set up movie screenings here every once in a while. I could pull some strings and got to choose the movie. “ 

“ We’re gonna watch a movie? “ 

“ Not just any movie, “ she exclaims and drops down onto one of the plastic deck chairs that looks like it used to be bright pink once but is now but a bleached blush colour from being exposed to the sun too much. “ We’re watching when Harry met Sally. “ 

Bucky slumps down on the chair next to her, a blue one with white daisy patterns. 

“ Me not knowing this movie really does bother you, huh? “ 

“ It’s a classic, might as well start with this one. And anyway, maybe this can help you get back into the dating game. Ya know, help you understand modern romance. “

“ You think so? “ 

She shrugs and starts fumbling around in her bag, “ I dunno. It might. And if it doesn’t at least you’ll spend your time watching a good movie and get to experience the blessing of my company. Ah-ha! There you go “ 

Her hand reaches out holding a bag of M&Ms.

“ I brought snacks. “ 

More and more people start occupying the chairs and bean bags and a few minutes later a guy steps up in front of the sheet. He’s wearing a shirt with a black and white bird pattern, huge glasses with a brown frame, and jeans that don’t cover his ankles. He’s tall and lanky and his hair is so messy, Bucky wonders if it’s intentional or if he just hasn’t brushed it in a while. 

“ Hi guys, I’m Andrew. For those of you who don’t know me, I live in apartment 2B and I just wanna say thank you for showing up and welcome you to our movie night under the stars. A few days ago we received a special request from one of our good friends and because she let me stay on her couch for several months back during our college days and I still owe her for that I couldn’t reject her request. So thanks to Miss (Y/N) over there in the pink chair you now get to spend the next 90 minutes watching Meg Ryan fall in love with Mike Wazowski. Enjoy. “ 

As he steps away from the sheet, the lights are turned off and the MGM logo pops up on the screen. 

“ Trust me, Bucky. This one’s so good.” (Y/N) assures before throwing some M&Ms into her mouth, now entirely focused on the movie.

It takes a while for Bucky to relax. Being around so many people and not having any fear of what’s lurking around the corner is still very new. Letting go is never as easy as it sounds. Eventually though, his nerves settle down a little and as the movie progresses, he finds himself relaxing more and more. Something he hasn’t done in a long time. Not since Wakanda.

Exactly 46 minutes into the movie, (Y/N) lets her eyes wander to her left where Bucky, until now, sat slumped into his seat. Still perpetually grumpy but more chilled out and relaxed than she’s seen him before. Until now. A moaning Meg Ryan visible making him uncomfortable.

“ You okay, grumpy? “ 

He doesn’t grant her a real answer, just scoffs and rolls his eyes. There’s a smile though, she’s sure. Somewhere hidden there is another smile. 

“ So, what did we learn today? “ 

Bucky looks at (Y/N) who has her arms wrapped tightly around her middle shielding herself from the chilly night air. The movie night has ended a while ago and the two of them are slowly strolling along the New York City streets on the way back to (Y/N)’s apartment. 

“ To take your own advice and dress warmer for a movie night? “ 

(Y/N) chuckles. “ No, grumpy. I meant the movie. “ 

He shrugs at her question. Quite honestly he hasn’t learned anything new. Nothing about the movie seemed in any way revolutionary to him nor does he see any benefit for himself and his dating life going forward. But the way she looks at him right now, expecting something grand not from him really but some beautiful consequences to her ideas, that makes him reconsider. Sure he could tell her that it was just a silly little movie about people falling in love but that would no doubt hurt her, even a tiny little bit. And if there’s anything Bucky has enough of, it’s hurting others. 

“ I guess that men and women really can not be friends. “ 

“ Noooo! No. Is that really what you took from this movie? “ 

“ That’s literally what happened. “ 

“ Okay first of all it works, look at us! We’re friends! Second of all, that’s not what the movie is really about. It’s about love and vulnerability. It’s about overcoming all the tiny things that can work against you and your relationship. Like distance and timing and egotism. It’s about hiding who you are because really opening up to someone, being your authentic true self with all your faults and imperfections, that makes you vulnerable. And being vulnerable is fucking scary. But love is worth it anyway. That’s what the movie is about. “

As Bucky noticed before, some smiles demand to be smiled. They need to be smiled because they’re important and they mean something. The one gracing his face now, that’s one of those. One of those you remember because you feel them all the way in your heart.

“ You think we’re friends? “ 

“ Oh, are we — are we not? “ 

“ No. I — no, we are! I’d like to be friends. “ 

(Y/N) abruptly stops in her tracks, turns towards him, and holds out her hand. “ To friendship.” 

“ We’re shaking hands on it? What is this, a business deal? “ 

“ You know what, yeah now that you mention it that’s pretty lame. “ (Y/N) agrees, balling her hand into a fist “ how about a fist bump, bro? “ 

Bucky reluctantly knocks his right hand against hers before continuing his walk down the street. “You call me bro again I’m canceling the friendship. “ 

“ Alright. Noted. “ 

“ So have you talked to the girl again? “ 

“ Hmm? “ 

“ The one you went on a date with? “ 

“ Oh, Leah. Uh — no.” 

“ Why not? “ 

Bucky throws her a look. One that says “are you kidding me?”. One that says “ you know why.” 

“ Cause I ran out. That’s embarrassing. She’s gonna think I’m insane. She’s never gonna wanna see me again. “ 

“ I sincerely doubt that. You just gotta say sorry. I know in Love Story — that’s a novel and also a movie from the 70s — they say that ‘Love means never having to say you’re sorry but that’s a load of bull. Just say sorry and ask her for a do-over. “ 

“ And then what? We play a rematch of battleships and talk about my trauma? “ 

“ Well, what did you do on dates in the 40s? “ 

That time, his youth, that seems like a different life altogether now. So much happened between then and now and the man he is now, has no relation to the boy he was then. Sometimes looking back hurts, makes it painfully obvious what he’s lost. But sometimes, like tonight, he can feel a hint of fondness coursing through him at the thought of times long gone.

“ Dancing, mostly.” 

“ Like, ballroom dancing? “ 

“ Swing. “ 

“ You swing dance? “ 

“ I did. “ 

(Y/N) regards him through squinted eyes “ really? “ 

“ You don’t believe me? “

“ I don’t know. You don’t strike me as a dancer. “ 

Not a second later, Bucky’s gloved hand grabs onto her’s and twirls her towards him then away from him and back in. 

“ You twirled me! “ 

“ Mm-mh.”

“ I’ve never been twirled. That’s so fun. “ 

It’s like autopilot taking over as Bucky holds onto her, twirling her again then pulling her in and swaying them in a circle. It’s not swing dancing, not even close but there’s no music either, and anyway, his dancing days are over. But sometimes you gotta make a point and if that means slow dancing in the middle of an empty street then that’s that. 

The night wraps them in a blanket of comfort and intimacy as the stars and the New York skyline try to outshine each other. It’s a moment so peaceful, Bucky can’t remember the last time his heart felt so light, his mind felt so at ease, his entire being got to let go and just be alive and in the moment.

And then the shine of headlights rips them from their moment and makes them jump back onto the sidewalk. 

“ Get off the road you fucking morons! “ 

“ Gotta love the big city folk. “ 

“ Yup. “ 

“ Hey, Bucky.” 

“ What? “ 

“ You really can dance.” 

“ Told you. “ 

“ Can I tell you a secret? “ 

“ Sure. “ 

“ I can’t dance for shit. “ 

“ That so? “

“ Yup. Which means you gotta teach me. “ 

“ Absolutely not.” 

“ Oh, 100%! “ 

“ We’ll see about that.” 

There are nights you try to forget. Nights that you wish to never ever remember. Ones that break you. That beat you down and leave you bruised and battered.

Then there are nights like this one that you want to hold onto for just a little bit longer. Those that fill you with joy and an immeasurable thirst for life. The ones that make you feel grateful to be alive right here and now. 

The inevitable end of the night creeps closer as they arrive at (Y/N)’s front door. Neither of them really want to say goodnight but both know there’s no use in delaying it.

“ I hope you didn’t hate the movie too much, “ (Y/N) speaks up, leaning against the front door of her apartment complex.

“ No. It was fun! Although I still don’t know who Mike Wazulsky is. “ 

“ Mike Wazowski, he’s — you know what? That’s a conversation for another time. “ 

“ Alright, if you say so. “ 

“ Thanks for walking me home. “ 

“ Oh, yeah no need to thank me. It’s the right thing to do. “ 

For a moment they just stand and smile, trying to cherish the last few moments of this night. 

“ We should do this more often. “ Bucky suggests, surprising even himself.

“ For sure. I still have so many movies to show you. “ 

“ Can’t wait. “ 

A slight sense of awkwardness falls over them as neither of them knows what to do. Go for a hug? Shakes hands? Wave goodbye? 

“ I uh — I should go. “ 

“ Yeah, of course. Have a good night, Bucky.” 

“ You too, (Y/N).” 

“ Oh and Bucky? “ 

“ Yes? “ 

“ Give Leah a call. “ 

Bucky nods his head before turning around and walking back into the night.

As he takes the way back to his own home, there are only two things on Bucky’s mind: the vulnerability of falling in love and the question of who the hell Mike Wazowski was. 

[toastedside]

Mothers

Damian had dinner with Talia and they talked about Batmom.

===========================================

Damian didn’t know what he should feel about this.

It’s been a very long time since he had a peaceful meal together with Talia. Or it felt like one, he didn’t know. Certainly, he had spent significant amount of days and night not having a peaceful meal together with his mother that he started to lose any strands of memories on how it should really be. Or does he never have any peaceful meal with her before? He wasn’t sure.

Should he really let his guard down? He wasn’t sure. It sure is felt wrong to let his guard down in the presence of his mother. After all, he knew her. She always had so many tricks underneath her sleeve. But it had been almost twenty-five minutes passed, and the dinner had been nothing but… pleasant.

“Hmm,” Talia made a sound. “They sure do make a great samosa. I admit your judgement is right. This is the best restaurant they have in the city.”

Damian pressed his lips together. “I am pleased to know you enjoy it as much as I do, Mother.”

Talia threw him a small smile. Or what he could considered as a smile from her, anyway. Damian did not have the smoothest relationship with his mother after all the odds happened. He certainly had seen her in different light after she had attempted to murder him with one of her clones of his own freaking self. But Damian certainly held a dear memory of days when his mother is warm to him.

She had not been perfect, but she tried, and she loved him dearly and fiercely too. In her very own twisted way, as she had tried her best to shield him from any bad influence that his grandfather is. But a powerful man of menace that he is, sometimes all of his mother’s best had not been enough to protect him from his grandfather. So, she had to send him away all across the country, gave the custody to his father, and had lived underneath the same roof with him ever since.

It certainly was a surprise that Talia showed up on the doorstep. Being civil and all, knocking the door and actually announce her presence. Not showing up out of nowhere sneaking her way into the Batcave or strike him in the daylight out of thin air. She wanted to rekindle and reconnect with him, that’s what she said, and Damian was hesitant. But Mom was enthusiastic with the idea – she had always been a very positive lady, bless her soul – and Father, surprisingly, did not opposed the idea.

Grayson did not. He was ready to throw a fit. But eventually begrudgingly agreed after a stern and long talk with Mom.

Besides, Mom and Father were supposed to attend a charity event in Star City this weekend. It’s a perfect occasion for him to have a day out with his mother while his other parents are away. God, it felt weird to address them that way. Grayson gave him a pep talk and a panic button that he certainly did not need in case things go south.

So far, things had been quite pleasant, if not good. They had stroll around the city, visited a zoo, went to a museum, and ready to end their day in this restaurant he had accidentally discovered few months ago. He didn’t even check his phone – well, once to text Grayson back and assured him that he was, in fact, very much alright – and surprisingly enjoy his time.

“If you have anything to say, then talk,” Talia’s voice snapped him out of his train of thought.

“Nothing. It had been a very good day with you, Mother,” Damian answered. He had almost forgot how straightforward his mother could be.

Talia pressed her lips together to form a thin smile. “Y/N…” she paused for a moment as if she was testing the way it rolled out of her tongue. “She had made you soft, hadn’t she? Or was it the work of your father?” Talia tilted her head to the side, studying him.

Damian didn’t say anything, but his hand tried to reach for his non-existent weapon on his pocket out of instinct. He and his mother agreed not to bring any sort of weapon on their day out together today.

“Y/N, what a bright woman she is. Too bright.” Talia’s finger traced the outline of the table. Damian braced himself for any words that would come next. “I understand why you take a liking on her.”

“You do?” the word came out before Damian could stop it. Talia’s head perked up at his question, the corner of her lips turned upwards.

“Yes. I admit she is a very likable woman. Even Jason Todd seemingly adore her, and we both know the man usually reluctant to put his guard down so easily.”

“In case it escapes your attention, Todd grew up with her.”

“And with your father too.” Talia raised a questioning eyebrow. One that she usually gave him when she questioned all of his method in training. Or progress. “Look at their relationship now. A little rough around the edges, if you ask me.”

“That’s just how they work.”

“That’s just how they work, indeed,” Talia agreed. “That’s just how it works with Y/N too.”

Damian nodded, understanding his mother’s point of view. But he couldn’t see where this conversation led them exactly, and why the matter of Mom had been brought into the table in the first place.

“You know, I only had met her once or twice. Not so much. But it certainly felt like I had known her for years. Your father used to talk fondly about her a lot back in the days when he was still in the League. Besides talking about his parents and Alfred Pennyworth, he had the habit to talk about Y/N too. Or should I call her Y/N Wayne, now that she is married to your father?”

Damian remained still. Talia waited for a few beats for him to answer, but the lack of response from his part was an enough answer. Talia shrugged it off. He knew she did. It wasn’t a first time.

“Any person would’ve known that it was love. He swore it was just a childish crush, he would say that a lot in his defence. But I know. I had always known. You should see the way his eyes shine when he talked about her,” Talia told him. Damian knew what his mother had talked about so well. He had witnessed it so many times. “Because he used to look at me with the same shine in his eyes, Damian.”

Damian’s breath caught in his throat. He remembered the early days of him arriving at his father’s doorstep, upset at the presence of another woman that he fondly calls Mom now. He recalled days of wishing his parents would just talk and reunite, before eventually made a peace with the fact that his father is very much happy with his marriage.

He couldn’t find any words to say, and Talia did not expect him to. An invisible weight had been lifted from his shoulders magically. A small amount it seems, the one he barely noticed. But it was a comical amount of relief to knew that he was brought here by love his parents used to had with each other. For a short amount of time, perhaps, but it was still one.

“I am actually glad that you get to grow up with her.”

“Are you really?” Damian was a little skeptical, albeit hopeful and a little surprised.

“I am, Beloved,” Talia reassured him. Damian closed his eyes; it had been a long time since he had heard his mother addressed him that way. “There are many reasons why I had to leave you with your father, but I mainly wish you to have a better path and future than I do. Y/N had not been on the plan, but now I am glad that she is. She is capable to give you breaks and normalcy that your father used to had when he was your age. The one that I unable to give. I understand why your father had chosen to marry her; she is capable to give him the breaks he needs from his battles. I couldn’t give him that. I certainly couldn’t give that to you.”

Damian blinked. He didn’t know what to say.

“She had raised you and nurture you as if you are her own. Besides, she is bright and very well-educated. Maybe not the best fighter, if she ever learned at all.” Talia paused to formed a smile. “I like her.”

Damian let out a shaky breath he did not notice he was holding. He experienced a rush of many emotions at once, many that he couldn’t register and understand. He felt a hot prickle in his eyes, and if his mother notice there were tears welled in his eyes, she didn’t point it out.

There are few moments of silence exchanged between them. Talia was the first one to broke it off. “Let’s finish this off and I’ll drop you off at your father’s house. It’s already dark outside, and I’m certain Dick Grayson would explode if you don’t come back any time soon.”

Damian grimaced. “He tends to worry about me a lot. Sometimes I am convinced that he forgets I can protect and defend myself very well.”

“It is a good thing to have someone care about your well-being. Count it as a blessing,” Talia said with furrowed eyebrows. “Y/N told me you joined a soccer club in your school. Tell me about it on our way to your father’s house.”

Damian didn’t have any expectation on how his day would go, but certainly he did not expect to talk about his soccer club experience to his mother as they take a route back to the manor. He talked about his practice and an upcoming tournament that sadly his mother couldn’t attend.

It soon become a tradition between two of them. Talia would take Damian out somewhere whenever she could, which wasn’t that often considering her condition and line of work. Sometimes it would take days, sometimes it was a mere quick day out that last few hours. His mom and his mother would sometimes engage in a nice small talk whenever Talia visited. All of his siblings conspired that they had secrets shared with each other and had a secret girl’s night out no one knows about.

Damian didn’t want to dwell on that. He was happy and content with the life he led on now. Even though this wasn’t the initial output he had wished, he was still very much happy to receive love from two amazing women he had privilege to call Mom and Mother, respectively.

[imaginesforjohnnydepp]

Met Gala (Johnny Depp x fem reader)

for anon @kittenlittle24 @evelynrosestuff

for the vibe of this, listen to Could It Be? by Christy Carlson Romano here 

You looked absolutely stunning, but you were always stunning. This was Johnny’s exact thought as you ascended up the stairs into the Met Gala, and he just couldn’t tear his eyes away from you; the lights from the camera flashes and the tent seemed to bounce off your metallic/silver dress... and the large diamond on your right hand that seemed to mock him. Johnny hated the way your fiancé’s hand gripped your waist, hated the way you smiled up at him as he did so. As the night progressed, you found yourself in the bathroom trying to get in Kylie Jenner’s Met Gala selfie with your head on some pop star’s shoulder. After dinner and the musical guest, you roamed the exhibit alone after Alex had to leave early.

The entire thing was absolutely beautiful, you thought as you snapped pictures for your friends and family back home, and you made a mental note to visit during the rest of it’s duration. While you thought you were the only person on this side of the museum, you were proven wrong as you heard the scuffle of feet on the marble floor and the hushed voices bouncing off the walls. “Are you out of mind? Y/N’s engaged and definitely not into me.” It was Johnny’s voice and it sounded like was talking on the phone. Johnny was quiet for a while as the other person spoke.

“Tim, I promise it would not make a difference if I told or not. You should’ve seen the two of them. The way she was looking at him, it was disgusting, and the worst part is that she can’t see that he’s using her.” You almost choked on your breath. What did he mean by that? Johnny’s in love with you, and if so, for how long? You quickly turned back in the direction in which you came, trying not to trip in your heels.

There was no way Alex was using you, right? He loves you, and yeah, it was a bit too fast, but when you know, you know. Isn’t that what everyone says? This wouldn’t be the first time someone said something like this about Alex, your fans online thought so too, but they were wrong about him, they don’t know his heart the way you do. You quickly ducked into a restroom and into a stall to check your Twitter feed, and after reading a few messages, you felt a little sick.

oh god, the met gala is going downhill. how tf are so many “influencers” getting invited? one said. Another one: y/n looks so gorgeous but that rat ruins it. And the last one: funny how y/n and alex have been together for less than a year and he’s already signed to a modeling agency and going to the met gala. The other comments were pretty much the same and you wanted to throw up. You thought back to everything that had happened since you confirmed our relationship with Alex; his following on social media had grown exponentially, he did sign with a modeling agency and landed a L’uomo Vogue cover and campaign for Gucci and countless other brands.

Your friends in the modeling world told you it took them twice as long to get steady work and to get their foot in the door. And then the paparazzi to deal with, they were always popping up, even at the most secluded places... like at your favorite restaurant in your hometown. You’ve never had to deal with that while visiting your family, and while you would take pictures with fans, that was it. All of it was starting to click.

You needed to end things with Alex, like yesterday, and you thought back to Johnny’s conversation: “It wouldn’t make a difference if I told her how I feel about her.” How could you miss that? The first time you ever met him was at an audition for one of his movies; the movie was based off a book and it was between you and another girl, and even though you didn’t quite match the physical description of the book, he fought tooth and nail for you to be in the movie. You had a small crush on him while filming, but at the time, he was in a committed relationship with two kids. You were a law school drop out trying to prove to your family that this “acting thing” could work, so you never acted on it.

He had taken you under his wing and supported you in the early days of your career, and still does. All of that was a decade ago, and now you’re at the top of your game and still remain close friends (which Alex doesn’t like), even filming a movie with Lily-Rose and interviewing her for one of her first magazine covers. Your little crush on Johnny never really went away, and before you could tell someone, you met Alex and the rest was history. You never thought Johnny would ever be interested in you and that you could ever have a chance with him so you let it go.

But now Johnny is single, and you’re engaged and ten years older. It was completely unfair. It’s not like you could pretend everything was normal, but what could you do? Go up to him and admit that you overheard his very private conversation? Yeah, that’ll work.

As the night wore on, you danced to the music the dj was playing with your celebrity friends and took pictures and videos with them before heading to an after party that Rihanna was throwing. You turned on your phone to see the multiple calls and text messages from Alex wondering where you were so you typed back: going to the rihanna after party. see you when i get back to the hotel. This was one of the things you hated about Alex. He could be so clingy and could constantly blow up your phone asking where you were. You turned it back off and went on with your night.

“Hey you. I’ve been looking for you all night.” You finally found Johnny at the bar nursing a glass of water. “I’ve been... around.” He took a sip of water before asking the bartender for another refill. You took a deep breath and let it out slowly; it was now or never, and you know that if you don’t do it now you’ll never do it.

“Johnny, can we talk? Like really talk? Because I feel like I haven’t spoken to you since I got engaged. You got engaged two months ago, and you and Johnny check in with each other every week. “Johnny, I know. About everything.” His brown eyes widened in fear and it reminded you of a child who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar before dinner. “God, Y/N, I’m so sorry, you must think I’m disgusting---”

You cut him him off. “No Johnny, I don’t” You told him about the crush you had on him while you were filming together ten years ago and you could feel your face heat up in embarrassment, then it was over. You kept your eyes down on the bar top the entire time. “Johnny, what are we going to do?”

All of this felt so wrong, and it felt like you were cheating on Alex, which you weren’t but still. Alex is your fiancé, you’re supposed to be in love with him. Of course you love him, but lately you’ve been feeling annoyed, about everything. You’re tired about being asked about wedding plans, fighting about where to live, Alex speaking calmly to the paparazzi as they invade your privacy. Sick and tired of all of it.

“Y/N, you’re engaged, not married. There’s still time.” For a second you thought about what it would be like with Johnny, how easy it would be. The both off you are private people and you get along with his kids, so nothing bad on that front. You fiddled with the engagement ring before pulling it off; that felt much better and your hand felt a lot lighter. “I don’t think I can marry Alex. I think I made a mistake.”

You finally said it. Said the four words you’ve been trying to push down for the last two months; it felt good to say out loud. You slipped the ring in your clutch. You threw your arms around Johnny and quickly kissed his cheek. “I have to break it off with Alex.” If all went well, then you would make plans to leave L.A. before the media storm could hit. 

Maybe your place in the countryside just outside your hometown? You could only hope that this break up could go smoothly.

[sopxhiea]

Scarce

Alfie Solomons X Reader

Summary: Alfie and the reader spend cozy days in Margate while Alfie remains his grumpy self.

Requested by @vieuwer <3

“Are you shivering?”

Winter had always been harsh. 

The calendar that rested against the cold surface of the oak wall showed that the seasons were in fact changing and it would soon feel like the cold would be unbearable. The front door was locked while the seagulls cried out a familiar song, the rooms were warm due to the fireplaces in two ends of the house. 

Margate was quiet, the only sound being the slow music of the seagulls and the sea. Most people were tucked inside the warmth of their homes, no kid was allowed to go outside and play in this weather. 

It had been a while.

Although it had been just over two years since you had moved to Margate, it felt like you’d been there for longer than that. You had been seeing Alfie for about four years prior and even though there was no golden band around your finger, it felt as though you were married to the bear of a man.

There was no noise as you walked through the empty corridors. The house was usually like this, quiet and warm and that became the case in winter as well. Cyril was upstairs in the bedroom making noise as he chased something around the house but that was all the noise in the house.

Certain things had changed over the years.

Alfie had been shot and somehow survived it. He hadn’t let you see him for a couple months but he cracked quick. He couldn’t do it without you, this thing called life. He appeared in the shadows first, watching over you and decided that if you were to hate him because of all that had happened, he would be fine with it but he needed one last hug, a kiss goodbye and he’d be content.

But you hadn’t done that.

He was a silly man, your Alfie. It had taken you a long time to convince him that you loved him the way he was. He didn’t like the way he looked now, with the scar covering one side of his face. He realised though, after months of you reassuring him, that you didn’t care. If anything, it had given him a tougher look and that worked out for you.

“Alfie!” your voice was soft against the air around as you called for him. Maybe he was asleep somewhere in the house but due to the large size of it, it would take you a while to find him if he didn’t answer.

“In here!” he shouted. You shook your head with a smile, in where?

You felt yourself shiver a little while making your way towards the other end of the house where his study was. You didn’t go in there often, he was easily distracted and it was hard fucking against the cold wooden table. You knocked once, softly and didn’t wait for a proper answer before entering.

Unlike Alfie, you weren’t a very warm creature. He was your blanket during winters when you’d wear layers on top of other layers and still be cold. It was a problem with your blood, Alfie had said but your mother was the same way so you didn’t ponder on it. He would keep you warm anyway.

Walking in with the thick robe and the satin nightgown you had on, you smiled at him as he looked up from the book in his hands.Your slippers made soft sounds against the wooden flooring as you made your way towards him. He wasn’t working so you were allowed bother the grump bear.

“Hi.” you said, almost cooing as he opened his arms after putting the book back on his desk. He knew you were coming to sit on his lap and you were more than welcome in his eyes. He was obsessed with you doing that and you liked his warmth.

“‘ello, dove.” he spoke, voice gruff as he spoke.

You lifted one leg to straddle his thighs and sat down immediately. It was easy to ignore the way his eyes caught your bare legs under the nightgown but Alfie was always in the mood when it came to you. He brushed the thought away while you held onto his arms and sat down on his lap. The man was almost thrice your size but you made it work.

Feeling your cold fingertips against his inked arms, he grabbed them and brought them against his lips. He had disappeared after breakfast and you weren’t complaining but you needed your source of warmth during the colder months. 

“Pet..” he spoke before his hands engulfed your much smaller ones. You blinked at him while feeling his warmth spread through your body. “Are you shivering?”

You shook your head immediately but your nails were slowly turning purple. The cold had never been good to you but you were content with the way things were at the given moment.

“It’s cold, you know.” you spoke, as a matter of factly. He smiled at the silly response before moving one of his hands to touch your neck. You were warm everywhere except your feet and hands.  “It’s fine, Alfie.” you said and leaned in for a kiss but he wasn’t having it.

He stood up slowly, removing you from his lap but never letting go of your hand. If it was left to Alfie, he’d have you sleep, eat and basically do everything else against the fireplace, hence why there were multiple of them around the house. You knew he was taking you to the living room to make sure you were warm again and a sigh left your lips.

You started speaking as he led you through the long corridors of the house. “It’s okay, I can ju-”

“I don’t want ya’ to get sick.” he said, a cold hard fact before making you sit down in front of the fire place. He grabbed the blanket on one of the sofas and draped it over your shoulders before sitting on the comfy chair next to you. It was one of the moving chairs and it was Alfie’s except when cyril would get on it to rest for a while.

You stared at Alfie’s fingers that were holding yours, the gold on his fingers glistened as he stared at the fire place. He was a brazen gangster when you had met him. He didn’t flinch when faced with death or the barrel of a gun but he had become your very own teddy bear soon after.

He had changed in some ways. He was not so young anymore but just as full of life. There was a river of wisdom in his eyes, he was still as sharp and good looking but he was much calmer. He had invited you to live with him in the small mansion you were currently sitting in and you hadn’t thought about it twice before nodding frantically.

You’d be where he was.

Feeling you warm up against the fire, his hand came to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. You smiled at the touch but your eyes remained  glued to the fire and not his blue orbs. He wanted to sit next to you but his back wasn’t always feeling so good, especially during the colder months.

Sometimes, he thought, he wanted to die for you.

He had come close a couple times but they all been with the purpose of business or honour. He didn’t care that much for that stuff at all, not since when he’d met you. Women were sacred to him, they had always been but the only encounter he had with the fascinating beings had been in a brothel, up until he had met you.

You were young, far too innocent for him and he knew he had done some very bad things but maybe he’d saved someone important in his god’s eyes and he was given you as his reward. He wished to be the young brazen man he once was but he wasn’t sure if you’d fall for him back then, he was too reckless.

And that hadn’t changed.

“I’m warm now. Can I go?” you asked in a sweet voice but you had no intention of leaving him. You’s stay as long as he would.

He nodded once and smiled at you, but you didn’t move.

“It’s very cold.” you spoke, earning a nod from yourself as you drifted away and Alfie watched you in a daze before he spoke up, the conversation flowing easily between the two of you.

“Yer always fuckin’ freezin, luv.” he said, not letting go of your hand even though you were more than warm now. The fire place was cozy and it always made you want to sleep after sitting in front of it for an hour or so. There had been many times where you’d ended up on top of Alfie, curled around his body and taken a long mid-day nap. He didn’t mind, he’d usually join you.

“Yeah but that’s why you’re here.” you spoke with a childish smile on your lips. You were still a kid, especially compared to him and Alfie knew but you were his best girl too.

“Yer own fuckin’ fire place, eh?” he said, amusement dripping from his words and you caressed his hand with your thumb as much as you could, his hand was twice as big as yours. “That why you kept me around for this long, hm?” he asked and you giggled, he was being grumpy again but in the good sense.

“No.” you said, you knew he was joking but you didn’t want to take that one percent chance of him being serious somewhere along the line.

“Why then?” he asked, taking the serious route since you had just started it. You looked at him then

There were many reasons why.

You were much younger than the man, everyone around knew that and even if they didn’t, one glance at the both of you and it was easy to figure. That had meant different things for you, it meant maturity and the kind of love of someone who knew what they wanted from life and had it in their palms, unlike the lousy young men your parents seemed to find for you.

He had rescued you, as you saw it. You were going to school when you met him, to get a higher education so you didn’t end up becoming someone’s desk buddy like the other high school graduates you knew. He had seen you around Camden a few times when you’d visit the flower shop and the next thing you knew, he was leaving gifts and jewels for you.

But it wasn’t all that easy.

He’d chased you, through his dreams and many months until one day, he was confident enough to take you out. It had been a lovely dinner and a museum, you didn’t care much for pictures and it was mostly Alfie talking anyway. He rambled when he was nervous and that was all he had done for the first four dates. 

Then, he’d taken you to his home, that one day where it was pouring rain and you had just gotten out of dinner with him. He had dried you and gave you a spare change of clothes. You’d kissed him passionately but he’d stopped you, you were in the daze of things, he knew that so he told you to wait until the morning and see if you’d still want him.

It was silly.

Because you did. You woke up and asked for the same thing you’d asked the day before and he willingly gave it to you. He was hooked after that, flowers and dates, countless phone calls that annoyed the hell out of your flatmate were made.

And he was shot soon after.

It was rocky then, it had taken him a few months to heal and a few more on top of that to open up to you. You had gone without seeing him for 6 months and when you couldn’t take it anymore, he realised he couldn’t either. So what if his face was a little different now? That wouldn’t change the love you had for him.

You kept him around because he was your first love.

“Alfie..” you said, in that soft tone you knew made him feel weak inside. “You know why.

He smiled at your words. Of course he knew, but he had wanted you to say it.

It was easy to love him, you thought but you had never been good at vocalising your feelings. It was said in the quiet mornings or the dreaded moments, you didn’t just tell him out of the blue but you knew it would be good if you did.

“I do, yeah.” he spoke and smiled fondly. He knew.

He took a good look at you as you rested your head against the side of the chair he was sitting on. You were glowing to him, you just always were. His finger caressed your cheek as your face rested facing the fire place, eyes closed because you knew you’d miss this someday.

With a final yet long sigh from you, you got rid of the robe and the blanket on top and remained only with the nightgown you had on. Standing up slowly, you let his eyes reek over your body as they usually did, he was a man after all. He didn’t understand what you were doing but at that moment, he thought it didn’t really matter as your hands gripped his arms like they had done in his office when he was sitting on his chair and you laid on top of him in one swift motion.

His chin rested on top of your head as he started speaking. He was saying something about the deals he was making and not too long after he jumped into something else, speaking about the way his mom used to scold him when he came home late. He chuckled as he talked the day away, the vibrations on his chest making their way to your ear and you sighed, happily this time.

“Luv..” he spoke, thinking you were asleep after a while and truth be told, the idea was tempting but just like how he would watch you fall asleep every night to savour the memories, you were keen on keeping your eyes open as well.

“Hm?” you said, hiding your face in his chest and a childish smile found Alfie’s lips.

“You wanna sleep?” he said, knowing the answer before he even thought of asking you the question.

You smiled and faced him this time, hands caressing his fuzzy cheeks as he looked at you, expectedly. 

You nodded.

You didn’t know if Alfie would be letting you get any sleep since you were in a mere nightgown. He had marked the one you were wearing as ‘distracting’ a couple days before but it was the comfiest one you owned. He also wouldn’t let you go anywhere away from where he was sleeping since he knew you needed the warmth so he’d wrap himself around you to the point where your heartbeats would be against each other.

You watched as he got up after you did, too. A couple grunts here and there as you both made your way to the upstairs bedroom. It was usually kept warm during the winter time, by you or by him. Since the weather was freezing and there was no work today, you didn’t see a point of making the day productive. Spending time with Alfie was the most productive you could be anyway.

An hour later, you were laying on your side and facing Alfie as he told you a story about this kid he knew in grade school. You joked and said that it was miracle he remembered since it was a long time ago but he’d brushed it off with a hasty kiss and kept on telling the story. He’d watch you fall asleep that night much like he did on the other nights to make sure you didn’t have any trouble doing that. And he’d know that there was work to be done but he couldn’t get out of the warm bed covers with your hands hugging him the way they were.

You came first.

-----

Tagging: @clairecrive  @parkbearum @sourirez  @vetseras​ @mollybegger-blog @babylooneytoonz @peakascum 

a/n: I hope you liked it!!! This is a very cute and chill imagine so it was very fun to write it and i hope it wasn’t too late <3

[havethetimeofyourstyles]

in which you study in a different country and meet someone along the way.  

hi lovelies! this is my fic for miss olivia’s @bfharry​ boyfriendathon! i’ve had this concept for a year now, and i’m so happy i was finally able to write it!

thank you to @bopbopstyles​ @stellarboystyles & @avhrodite​ for beta-ing! <3

enjoy 7.5k words of friends to lovers & uni!harry & boyfriend!harry !! also the story is supposed to go semi-fast since it is mostly flashbacks, the sparkly breaks will tell you when the flashbacks start and end! 

i’ve made a playlist for this fic! if anyone would like to listen while reading click here

please please leave feedback! super excited for this because it’s probably a fav of mine and i’m really proud of it, so i would love to know what you think! a reblog, comment, and/or ask would mean a lot! <3

The birds were chirping and the sun was beaming on you, leaving a glow to your skin that had shined ever so brightly, giving you a healthy and lovely tint to your skin. It was a lovely day that there was not an ounce of complaint in your mind because of the beautiful weather Mother Nature decided to provide you with, knowing that you hadn’t gotten perfect weather for the past few weeks. The trees and grass were as green as ever as slight wind rustled between the leaves, making the sound of the crisp leaves loud. 

It was a moment like this where you felt so happy and grateful to be in a beautiful city; that you had made the right decision. The London view and atmosphere does not compare to any other place in the world, aside from the fact that you haven’t been to many places in your life. But you’re a bit biased on your opinion because London graced you with your boyfriend, Harry. You remembered the first time you came to London just two years ago, and you never imagined how your life had planned out until this very moment. 

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

You had stepped on the plane with nervous thoughts running through your head. It was the first time you ever rode a plane, and your destination was hours away, practically a full day. It was a major step, and you probably should’ve thought it through; maybe traveling to the next state, but to travel to another country was a big step for you. 

It wasn’t a vacation, more like, school in a different country for a few months. You had decided to study abroad when you were in high school, wanting to get away from home and also learning in a brand new place without the toxicity hanging onto your foot as you try walking away. It had taken a while to finally study abroad because the requirements of you needing to finish your first year of college before you could study in the fall. 

Your family hadn’t taken it well, but you decided that there was nothing you could do to stop them. You were going to pay for the trip and your expenses all on your own. It definitely helped that you got a scholarship to go to university in the first place, and lucky enough to live on campus away from home.

You were sad that they didn’t feel an ounce of happiness for you, and you had asked your cousin to take you to the airport, being the only person to bid you goodbye. The feeling was overbearing and overwhelming, making your heart sink but at the same time feel full with sadness. At the time, you had felt like everything was holding you back and you just wanted to get away. 

A new start was needed. 

It was August when you traveled alone to London. Anxiety was boiling in your throat as you craved the need to hold onto something as the ride was quite bumpy, making you sweat and shake. But you survived, and you were at your new home. At least for the next 4 months. 

It wasn’t a hard decision to decide to study abroad, but you really hoped you met good people and made friends. It had always been a struggle making and keeping a good batch of people in your life. You had thought it was easy to make friends during your time in London; no one knows you and they don’t know your insecurities. So, you thought it was going to be easy.

And luckily, you were right. 

You had met your three best girl friends, all that you had shared a small place with. The common room had held so many memories between the four of you, and you felt so immensely grateful for them. Late night talks and laughs while drinking wine and eating snacks were some of your best memories. You had missed the common room greatly. 

One night, Tanya had suggested a night out on their first week there, “let’s all go out with the guys tonight! I already met Peter, and we talked about going out, so we could introduce you to everyone!” 

The girls and guys were stoked for the most part, and you were excited too, but also nervous, hoping the guys had found something interesting about you. 

And that was the night you met Harry. 

Some of the students that went to university in London shared a dorm with the abroad students until they left. Half were in the art program and the other half was the journalism program. Two of the girls in your dorm, Donna and Sophie, were in the journalism class, and you and Tanya were in the art one. You had wished everyone was in the same class, but that made get togethers and dinners at night way more fun because it had felt like everyone had so much to catch up on, and the fun was at the highest level. 

You had seen Harry approximately twice within your first week, but it was merely just from passing. But that night was the first proper night you hung out with him and everyone else. 

You couldn’t deny that he was insanely attractive. Just at first glance he had that sort of charm to him that was irresistible and alluring, wanting more after he was done talking. He was a bit on the quiet side when you met him, but learned that he started getting louder and talkative once you warmed up to him. He was outgoing and fun, the life of the party once he had a drink or two in his system, and when he does have some liquid courage, he gets cuddly and affectionate. 

“Do you want another drink?” He asked in his buzzed state. 

“I think I’m okay right now, and who’s going to take care of you when you keep having more?” You teased. It was definitely the alcohol talking because you would have never voluntarily teased someone like that. 

“Well, we have a few people in our group.” It had made your heart flutter when he said ‘our.’ You had never had a group of friends to call yours, and although it was only the first week, you had known they were going to be a group of special people close to your heart. 

“Our friend group is also drunk off their asses, so I think there needs to be a responsible person right now, and that is me,” you put your hands under your chin and started fluttering your eyes innocently. Harry thought you were the most charming and sweetest girl he’s ever met, and it had only been a week. 

“Okay, whatever you say, missy,” he teased. You held back your big smile, corners of your lips turned up. 

“Go get your drink. I’ll wait here,” you pushed his shoulder slightly towards the bar with a chuckle. 

“Ooh, bossy. I like it,” he said with a wink before he headed towards the bar. You were lucky that he had already left to get a drink, or else he would’ve seen your face turn into a light red shade, flustered from his actions.  

As the night went on, Harry had practically clung onto you when he was buzzed, and never let you go until everyone walked back to the dorms. 

“No, don’t wanna leave ya,” he whined a bit when you tried handing him off to his friend. “Nooo, don’t make me go with him,” he pouted as if he was a child. You had gigged, thinking he was the absolute cutest when he was drunk (and not drunk) as he clung onto you until you physically had to put him in his bed.

His arms were still tight around you, your body was laying slightly on top of him. Lazy smiles and droopy eyes were made at you, causing you to chuckle. 

“Mmm. Hello,” he said with a giggle. 

“Hi. You okay?” 

“Yup. Perfect. You know...you’re very pretty,” he says as he smiled. Although he was drunk, Harry was telling the truth. 

“Thank you.” And although he was drunk, it still made you smile. 

“Mhm…” he mumbled in response. The silence between you two was enough to lull him to sleep; arms were still around you. 

“Goodnight, Harry,” you said against his forehead, giving him a small kiss as you tried your best to slip out of his hold. 

That moment had changed everything. 

The two of you had gotten closer after that night. The next day, you bumped into him in the lobby of the building and he asked if you wanted to walk to class with him. 

You laughed about it with him as you walked, “you were so cute last night.” 

“Yeah, M’sorry about that. I get like that when m’drunk,” he shyly said. 

“No need to apologize. I’m glad you had fun,” you said with a smile. He had smiled back at you as he felt the butterflies in his stomach flutter around. 

You and Harry spent almost everyday after class together or in between classes for a quick bite to eat. There was a usual coffee shop near the building that you would always meet each other at on Mondays and Wednesdays. On Tuesday, you two would walk together to a fish n’ chips spot for lunch. On Thursdays, it was a sandwich shop. Fridays you saved your outings for that night as everyone got together on Fridays. 

“We could make this our thing, y’know?” Harry suggested. 

“Fish n’ Chips Tuesdays?” You beamed at him. 

“Yeah, and coffee shop Mondays and Wednesdays, and sandwich shop Thursdays,” he was quite nervous getting that out, but he managed to do it with a smile. 

“That would be nice. Don't you think you would get tired of me?” You teased him, raising your eyebrow as you took a handful of fries and shoving them in your mouth. You hadn’t realized, at the time, how unattractive you might’ve looked, but Harry couldn’t help but smile and fall deeper. 

And he never got tired of you. 

Aside from having lunch and coffee everyday together, you had taken him to art museums. He wasn’t horrible at trying to interpret art, but looking at you beside him as you gazed at the art above yourself was something that he was fond of. He smiled every time you got lost in the art as you studied it, passionately looking up, trying to figure out what each piece means to you. It was admirable, really. 

“You’re gonna be up there one day, watch,” he had whispered to you as you were in a daze. You chuckled as you looked at him, seeing if he was messing around. He wasn't though. He had seen your paintings and sketches, and thought that you deserved to be hung up high in the gallery. 

“You’re sweet,” you smiled and he put his arm around your shoulder, bringing you closer to his side. The affection had made you blush, thinking how you were falling for your best friend. 

After two months into studying abroad, you felt the happiest you’ve ever been. Aside from the constant moving around and trying your best to explore every part of the city, you felt like you belonged there. All those years living, you felt like you weren’t truly living, and being in London was possibly one of the best decisions you’ve ever made. 

You felt at peace. You were calm, and genuinely happy. Your head wasn’t racing like it was back in your hometown, and you weren’t anxiously looking over your shoulder, realizing that no one really is after you. 

The group decided to take a trip to Paris for the day, and the rest of the days would be spent hitting up a city or two. Everyone had the week off; a bit like spring break as you finished the first half of studying abroad. Everyone was super excited, and you haven’t been to Paris before so it was going to be a new place that you could check off from your list with your favorite people. 

It was a two and a half hour train ride from London to Paris, so you had loaded up a two hour playlist for the ride. 

At the time, it seemed like everyone knew that you were crushing on Harry, except Harry himself. When everyone boarded, the only seat empty was the one next to him. You weren’t mad, in fact, you were thrilled that the seat next to him was vacant. When you sat next to him, his eyes beamed, glad to see you, and you looked over at your friends as they gave you that teasing eye look while you rolled your eyes. 

“Anyone sitting here?” You asked and he shook his head no, giving you a small smile to sit down.

Everyone was still tired, considering it was 7 in the morning, and the group wanted to stay in Paris for the entire day. You yawned and Harry looked at you, giving you a soft smile. You grabbed your earphones out of your purse, handing one earphone to him and placing the other in your ear. In that moment, Harry was so happy as you two listened to Frank Sinatra on the way to Paris, placing your head on your shoulder and his on your head as Frank lulled you both into a nap before your adventure together. 

The entire day was eventful, but exhausting. With everyone on their feet, they were all ready to crash and luckily it was nearing sunset before the last train of the day. 

The last touristy place was the famous Eiffel Tower. Everyone had decided to get some wine and snacks as the whole group sat on a big blanket in the grass area in front of the Eiffel Tower. The sun was slowly setting and the guys were playing with a soccer ball, passing it around as the girls drank and talked; music playing from the speaker Sophie had brought with her.

 You took a mental picture of the scene around you; the people, atmosphere, and the feeling. And you had softly smiled, thinking these are the people in your life that are going to be in your life forever. Despite the fact that half of you had to go separate ways, there was a certainty in your head that everyone will always end up back together again. 

The sun had fully set and the lights on the Eiffel Tower had turned on as it started twinkling, lighting up Paris since the sun had gone tired. The guys were getting tired as well, so they sat with the girls. Harry was on your right side, arm behind your back but he didn’t touch you as it rested on the blanket and he leaned on it. 

“Dance with me,” he whispered ever so softly in your ear. You turned towards him and he smiled. 

“Right now?” 

“Yes, right now. Please, dance with me,” he pleaded and you nodded. He had immediately gotten up and helped you up. 

‘A Sunday Kind of Love’ by Etta James began playing softly as you and Harry swayed. Your arms were around his neck and his were around your waist. Chests pressed together as you had felt his heartbeat that pounded through his chest that gladly traveled to your chest, making your heart beat in sync with his.

It was silent between you two. There were no outside noises interrupting your bubble as you two ignored the eyes your friends were giving you. It was just you and Harry, the music, and the Eiffel Tower that captured your love and kept it for memory sake as you swayed under the moonlight. 

Harry had pulled away from you, looking so intently in your eyes, fondness gleamed out of them.

“Be mine,” he said softly. “I’m fallin’ for you, and I’m fallin’ hard. Please be mine already?” You were about ready to cry in that moment, but tears glossed your eyes.

You nodded and he beamed, “Only if you agree to be mine as well because I’m falling for you too,” you added. 

Harry immediately nodded, “I’ve been yours…this whole time.”

“Harry…” 

“Yes, darling?” The pet name had come unexpected, but you loved it nonetheless. 

“Kiss me.”

He took your face in his hands, brushing away the strands of hair that had covered your pretty eyes before capturing your lips with his. The molded between your lips and his was perfect, like they were meant to be kissing Harry’s. Your hold on him grew tighter as your tongues touched for the first time. It sent shivers down your spine and made the hairs on the back of your neck rise. 

It was a moment that would never leave your mind and you two would cherish it forever. 

It had been two weeks since the group arrived back to London from Paris. Two weeks since the best day of your life, and you and Harry were attached at the hip and at the heart. It had been so easy to be around him, and you couldn’t believe he was your boyfriend. Your boyfriend.

You’ve been falling for him ever since the day you went out with everyone for the first time and clung onto you like a koala. But you were glad to be that tree for him that night. 

The regular dates hadn’t stopped. You two acted the same around each other, and that was because of the friendship before the relationship. And you were able to hold his hand while walking down the street and kiss him against the wall of an alley.

It was the third month of school, and everyone was swamped in midterm studies. The amount of stress everyone had was enough for an entire school year because of how fast paced the program was. 

It neared eleven at night in the boys’ dorm. Everyone’s heads were in their books or typing on their laptop, papers scattered around them. For the art program, you had to visit various museums and look for a painting that defined the meaning of Impressionism art along with a 2,000 words that went along with the painting. 

Multiple yawns passed through the room, and everyone was exhausted. 

“Alright, I’m done for the night. Can’t do anymore studying,” Tanya said as she started packing her things up loosely. 

“Yeah, think we should call it a night,” Cade suggested. 

A series of ‘goodlucks’ and hugs went around the room as everyone packed their things up, and the girls went off to the dorm as you were still packing, wanting a minute alone with Harry. 

“Stay the night?” He had suggested, and you turned around and stopped fixing your things. 

“You want me to?” 

“Yeah. Think I’ll sleep better with you here and m’all stressed out.” 

“Okay,” you replied back, thinking that you would sleep better with him as well. 

As you two got into bed, Harry had played music on his phone, saying that it had helped him sleep and it was a habit when getting into bed. You noticed that you and Harry had the same love for Frank Sinatra as he hugged you to his chest. 

The two had laid there, not even closing your eyes to try and get some sleep. But rather, staring at the ceiling, running your hands up and down each other’s skin. 

And the moment you had leaned up to give him a kiss, you two couldn’t stop there. 

Hands that roamed your body had made that electrifying feeling stronger, pulling him in for more. The passionate kisses that you two traded had triggered each other’s arousal as he hovered over you. The pull and undressing of each other’s clothes while ‘Strangers in the Night’ played had left you wanting more and more of him. 

“I’ve never done this before. Like any of this,” you whispered. 

“Do you want to continue? We don’t have to if you don’t want to--I’m definitely fine with just kissin’ ya,” he said with a smile, causing you to beam at him being a gentleman. 

“Yes, want this so bad, baby.” You responded quickly, feeling very eager. He smiled in return and continued what he was doing.

He had asked you throughout the experience if you were okay with everything, and when you told him ‘yes please, give it to me’, he made sure he got you ready for him; rubbing your button and fingering you to your high, something you’ve never experienced with another person. 

It was the reassurance that Harry had given for your first time, and the constant questions of making sure if you were okay and if you were comfortable when he slowly pushed into you, trying to make sure he wasn’t being too hard with you because of his hard and big length. 

“So good for me,” he whispered out, kissing your lips. 

“Feels so good,” you had moaned out, never experiencing this type of feeling before. The pleasure had taken over the stinging feeling of your Harry entering you for the first time. You two were connected in a way you’ve never felt before. 

The soft whispers of praises that fell from your lips, and your arousal and orgasm prior that lubricated Harry’s thrusting, had made him feel so many things. He wanted to last for you, he didn't want this moment to end. Scratches in his hair and down his back had encouraged him to continue as you moaned his name in his ear, and he pressed wet kisses to your neck as he grabbed your breast. 

Two strangers in the night who had no idea of each other’s existence just three months ago. They had no clue of what their life was going to become when they met each other. It was the way you looked at each other that he knew you weren’t going to be just a stranger to him. Although he had a bit of alcohol in his system, he knew in his heart that he was going to find that sort of comfort and caring personality when he started talking to you. 

Harry continued to make love to you as the moonlight was seeping through the blinds, like the love that seeped through your veins for each other. He brought you both to your highs, and the only thing that was heard was the hushed moans and groans that came out of your mouths that could signify the love you have for one another.

It was that moment that changed everything. 

The fourth month had approached sooner than you would like. 

You and Harry hadn’t discussed what was going to happen when you had to leave, but you had hoped that you could make long distance work. 

The feelings you had for him were nothing you had ever felt before. It had made you cry out of happiness in random times, but also made you want to scream because of how too good to be true he is. 

He treated you like a queen. Making sure to give you as much love as you could handle, but sometimes a little more because he couldn’t hold it in. 

Throughout the weeks, you had learned so much about him and him, you. You didn’t think there was someone in the world that was so kind and caring; someone who shares similar passions and likes the same things you do. He was an angel sent from above, and you wanted to keep him for as long as possible. 

One night, you two shared your pasts together as you laid in bed together after a session of love making and a few rounds of hard fucking per your request. 

The fear you had inside of you was trickling down with your words when you had told him your insecurities and stories of your family that you wanted to forget. But he took everything so well; never looking at you for your insecurities, but only for your heart. 

“They weren’t very really supportive of me--of what I wanted to do. They just expected me to follow what they wanted, and I didn’t like that…” His hands roamed your skin innocently, comforting you and let you know he was there for you. “I was already miserable there. I didn’t want to be even more miserable doing something I hated. So I went against their demands and they said they weren’t going to pay for anything. But luckily I got a scholarship, and moved away from home.” 

“I’m proud of you for doing that.” You looked up at him as he continued. “It’s admirable to see you chase your dream and do what you want to do, despite being told by parents who don’t support you. You’re strong for that, y’know?” You hadn’t responded; just took in his words of support and comfort. You kissed his chest, leaving soft and wet kisses to his skin. 

It was like you couldn’t get enough of him. The magnetic pull that you had between you had grown, making the force stronger than ever, and you never wanted to leave his side. 

As the last few weeks of studying abroad we’re coming to an end, everyone was focused on finals. There weren’t that many dinners or nights out at that moment, but everyone had time since the people who lived outside of England had a week before they had to pack up and leave. 

One night as Harry was in your room, studying on the bed as you were writing a paper for your final project, he had suggested visiting his hometown. 

“Darling, I have a question,” he perked up. You looked at him and nodded for him to continue. “You could say no and that would be totally fine, but how about we go to my hometown this weekend? We could even study over there. It’s less noisy and it’s not a hussle and bussle kind of town. I just want you to be able to see where I grew up.” 

You smiled, “Sounds nice. Where are we going to stay?” 

“Figured we could stay at my mum’s? She’s got a great backyard, or we could explore and I could take you around,” he said with great hope. Your heart fluttered, Harry wanted you to see where he grew up. He wanted to show you every corner of his hometown. 

“Oh…at your mom’s. Is she going to be there?” The thought of meeting his mother had scared you. You had never met anyone’s parents, and it was the nagging thought in your head telling you that you were going to mess it up. 

“Yeah, but we could get a hotel or something-”

“No! I would love to stay there, and I would love to meet your mom.”

Harry smiled, giving you a kiss to your lips before grabbing his phone and texting his mother.

The train ride to Holmes Chapel was about two and a half hours. 

You suddenly had a fascination with trains as you felt like it kept you calm while you watched different towns and buildings pass by. 

With the speed of the train, it had felt like you were in slow motion. Your eyes tried taking in everything you saw, capturing every moment of what you want to remember. And Harry is in a lot of those images. 

Holmes Chapel was very welcoming and warm. Despite the weather, it was warm. It felt like home. It was a small town and everyone seemed to know the next person, but you loved every part of it because it was where Harry grew up. 

His childhood home was even lovelier. Maybe it was because of the fact that Anne lived there and Harry grew up there, but she was ever so sweet and welcomed you in with open arms. 

She had taken a liking to you immediately, telling you childhood stories of Harry and his sister, Gemma, that only family knew. Harry was ultimately surprised at how quickly Anne opened up to you. He knew his mother was kind, but she kept to herself and didn’t speak when she was uncomfortable, so to see his mother laughing loudly with his also somewhat shy girlfriend, made his heart burst with love. 

Harry had watched them sit at the dining table, sharing stories as he leaned against the kitchen counter as he wore a robe to keep him warm while smiling so big that his jaw physically started to hurt. 

He’d never had felt so loved and had never loved anything like he does with you. It surprised him how fast he fell for you, but it was quite possibly the easiest thing he did. There was no judgement in the relationship. You had kept him grounded and helped him when he was going through a rut when writing. 

The only thing that was bad about the relationship was the distance that will be put between you two when you leave to go back home. He didn’t want this to become a fling, to have a time limit. He knew exactly what he was getting into the day he asked you to be his, and he didn’t want to let go of you. 

And he truly hoped you felt the same. 

Just after you and Harry were back in London after visiting Anne and his hometown, finals had approached rather quickly. You had had a great time spending a little time with his mother, and you think she liked you very much. There were countless conversations and laughs that you will never forget. 

“Can I ask you something sweetheart?” Anne asked. 

“Of course,” you said, and you had been nervous as to what she was going to ask. 

“You mentioned that you were leaving just before the holiday, but I just wanted to ask where that leaves you and Harry. Are you two still going to be together?” A frown had made an appearance on her face, resembling your own. 

“I would like to. We haven’t spoken about it, but I’m sure that conversation will happen soon,” you had answered honestly.

“You still would still want to be with him?” You nodded in response. “That’s great to know. I like you a lot, and Harry has taken quite the liking towards you as well, but I just didn’t know if it was some sort of abroad type of relationship; someone to just keep you company in a new country-”

“No, it’s nothing like that! I know it’s only been almost two months of our relationship, but I love him, and I would never let him go. I didn’t want to study abroad to have a relationship, but he stumbled into my life so unexpectedly and I don’t have plans of letting that kind of love go.” 

Everything you had said was the whole truth. You weren’t expecting a relationship to come out of this, but you’re so immensely happy that it did because Harry walked into your life. Although you hadn’t known him for a very long time, quality overruled quantity. The connection you two had made within the few months meant something deeper than a fling. 

Anne smiled and nodded, like she was appreciating you and her respect for you had increased. The topic was over, and it was onto the next that was followed by laughs. And that entire time you stayed at her house, Anne knew exactly why Harry had fallen in love with you. 

The last week of being in London had come very quickly, and sadness was an understatement. 

The people who were leaving had decided to start packing the things that they didn’t need and weren’t going to use anymore, so they had extra time to spend and go out with everyone because packing your things for four months plus the things you bought wasn’t all that fun. 

It was Monday morning after finals when you had heard your phone buzz on your bedside table. You had groaned as it felt like you had slept for only 30 minutes. You debated on whether to check it in your sleepy state. The buzzing had stopped, making your thoughts turn off, but started back up once again and you figured you should check it. 

Harry was calling you in the early hours of the morning. It was 6 a.m and if it were anyone else, you would ignore it. 

“Harry? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” You had mumbled once you answered the phone. Harry chuckled, but also fell deeper in love as you were just as caring as you were awake. 

“Darling, m’fine! M’actually outside of your dorm. I didn’t want to knock and wake everyone else up, but get up. We’re going on an adventure,” he said in a hushed voice, and you practically heard his smile through the phone. 

“Harry…” your eyes were still closed, exhausted from your slumber. 

“Please, baby. You won’t regret it.” 

And you didn’t. You never regretted anything when it came to Harry. 

You had gotten up and dressed warm enough for your adventure, and met Harry outside to which he rewarded you with a hug and kiss, thanking you for putting up with him. 

You both got in Peter’s car that Harry had begged him to take for a little bit, and luckily he agreed because the tube wasn’t running at that time. With Harry’s arm in your lap, you leaned on his arm as you closed your eyes until he took you both to your destination.

It was still a bit dark out, but it was way past the starry night it was a few hours ago. The sun was just about ready to rise, and the early bird got the worm. 

Harry had held your hand as he led you both up to top of the Primrose Hill, showing the beautiful London city. It had taken you both a while to get to the top, due to you being extremely sleepy still and sluggishly holding you both back. Harry had set a blanket down for you two to sit on, and you immediately snuggled into him. 

“Don’t fall asleep on me, darling. We have a sunrise to watch,” he said, leaning his head down and caressing your face. 

“Mmm. Tired,” you grumbled. 

“Please? It’s your last week here,” he said sadly, and you wished you hadn’t complained that you were tired because hearing his tone had almost broke your heart. But that woke you up slightly, realizing that you didn’t want to miss another moment with him. 

The sky had gotten a little lighter, and Harry checked his phone for the time, about 30 minutes till the sun started to rise. 

“Tell me something,” he said. It had been a thing you two did when you started hanging out. It was sort of a confession time; either can say anything you want to say and the other will listen. 

“I’m going to miss you so much that the thought of us not being physically next to each other will hurt so bad,” you confessed. 

“I’m going to miss you too.” 

“Baby, you don’t understand. My heart will completely break once I part ways with you at the airport. I cant handle it, Harry,” your body had completely faced his, and he noticed your eyes were swollen from the lack of sleep and the incoming tears. 

“Hey, I know exactly how you feel. You’re not the only one who gets to feel like that,” he said more seriously. “But we’re gonna get through this, okay? We’ll do everything to make sure we make it together,” he had placed a hand on your cheek. 

“You want this right?” Your insecurities had gotten in the way and you needed reassurance from him, and Harry knew that and didn’t ever complain to give it to you. 

“Of course, baby. Never gave you a reason telling you I didn’t want this, right?” You shook your head, tears had made its way down your face, and Harry had shared the same tears as you. “Then don’t worry. Everything’s going to be fine. I’ll make sure of it.” Harry held you to his chest and you both cried in each other’s arms. 

The sunrise was as beautiful as ever that morning, screaming for a new beginning as the sun illuminated the sky into an orange and yellow glow. The new beginning was right in your arms as you held him tighter while tears fell down both of your faces, feeling powerful and stronger together as you two poured every emotion and energy into each other. 

Harry was your sunrise and your sunset. 

You wanted to spend the beginning of every morning with him and have him be the last thing you see before you are pulled into a deep slumber, dreaming of him for hours until you see his face again and make him your reality. 

And you both were going to make it. 

The ride to the airport was long and filled with silence as words weren’t needed at that time; only the hurt because of the love that was so strong that nothing could come between you two. Not even distance. 

You already missed the whole group dearly, and the last dinner with everyone was bittersweet. It was an emotional one as everyone talked about their favorite times and laughed at memories of drunken stories. And at the end, everyone raised a glass. 

“To the best group of friends out there.” 

“To a talented ass group of artists and writers.” 

“To love, laughter, and the pub.” 

“To new beginnings, but never endings.” 

Everyone cried and hugged each other, making the moment last forever, but it was definitely not the last time. 

You slowly walked with Harry, hand in hand as he rolled your luggage, to the area where you both had to part your ways. He had kissed your hand and head multiple times until you stood facing in front of him. 

The embrace you two shared was the most gut wrenching feeling you had ever felt in your life, and it felt like your heart was physically breaking along with Harry’s. 

Your hearts had always been in sync, beating as fast as the other or filling in beats for one another when one of your hearts had skipped a beat. Being without one another would feel like a missing beat in your hearts, and you needed the other to fulfill it.

“This is not goodbye. It’s never going to be goodbye with you, okay?” Harry’s voice croaked and you nodded, too afraid to speak as tears spilled out of your eyes. 

You were breathing deeply, knowing you should go through TSA already as you both were trying to spend every last minute together. 

“Tell me something?” Harry had asked one last time in person. You thought hard about it, wanting to make it the best one he’s ever heard. 

“I love you, baby.” 

He gave you a small and sad smile as more tears formed in his eyes, “I love you too. So much, darling.” 

And then you were off.

Harry had watched you walk away until he couldn’t see you anymore before he had sulked back to his dorm, crying all the way back. He felt empty without you beside him. With spending everyday with each other for the past four months, it had felt like a punch to his chest when you had left. 

When he had gotten back to his room, he noticed a large square board wrapped in festive wrapping paper with an envelope attached to it. 

‘To my lovely Harry, 

Thank you for loving with me, laughing with me, and living with me. You’re the best person I’ve ever come to know, so I hope you enjoy this piece that was dedicated to you (and our group of friends). I’m so grateful you’re the person who has my heart.

I love you and miss you so much. 

Yours forever.

The tears hadn’t stopped since he saw you leave, and they kept on coming as he opened his present.

Sitting in his hands was your final project along with your paper. It was a painting of his hand holding a heart as blood dripped from it. He noticed it was his hand because of the various rings he wore. The London Eye, Big Ben, the Eiffel Tower, and the pub were at the aorta as a plane curved from around the heart. The background was painted as an orange and yellow color, symbolizing the sunset. 

Harry sobbed and hugged your painting to his chest, feeling as if it’s the last thing he has of you for a while. He picked up your paper and read the title. 

‘The Power of Being Vulnerable’ 

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

And so you were sat on a floral blanket, two years later; setting up your lunch, and taking out your sketchbook along with your supplies. You had brought your painting easel, in case it wasn’t going to rain, and you’re glad that you brought it because the weather was just gorgeous enough to paint outside for a while.

Before you went to the park, you had time to make a quick and small charcuterie board that was filled with Brie, prosciutto, crackers, and honey; a snack that would take up your time under the warm sun. 

You started sketching your drawing until you felt a familiar pair of lips against your cheek behind you. 

“Hi, darling,” his raspy voice that had brought you immediate peace said in your ear. You turned your head, and saw the beautiful smile beaming down at you before sitting down and meeting you at eye level, giving you a kiss to your lips. 

“Hi, baby.” 

“Sorry I’m late, quite the line at the sandwich shop, but I got your favorite as always.” You smiled after him, thanking him for waiting in that line and for the food. 

“It’s okay, practically just sat down a few minutes ago, and set everything up.” 

“Okay, good. By the way, you look absolutely beautiful,” he took off his sunglasses to give him a more clear look. You were wearing a dress that complimented your skin tone, making your eyes enticing that he couldn’t help but fall more in love.

“Thank you, my love. You look so handsome,” you complimented back, leaning in to peck his lips. Harry was wearing a plaid button down flannel, black jeans, boots, and a fedora. His hair has grown much longer over the past few years, and you honestly love it. One day, you had told him that he looks like a prince to which you earned a blush. 

“Gonna paint, my darling?” 

“Yeah. Nice weather out today, so definitely going to.” 

“Can’t wait you see what you put together,” Harry smiles, making the dimples that you love so much, pop out. 

You and Harry spent the rest of the day together before it was time to head to dinner with the six other people that had changed your life. It was something simple like sitting on top of the same hill you were at two years ago that made your heart flutter. With his head in your lap as he read a book, occasionally stopping to scratch his head and give him a kiss to his forehead, and you sitting upright painting away as he fed you crackers and cheese, you would have never known this is how your life would turn out. 

You were extremely grateful for the years you were given to be with Harry and your group of friends that you love so dearly. You were a shy girl, scared of being scared, hardly opened up to anyone. 

But that same shy girl blossomed. She blossomed into a beautiful woman who was being praised and treated like the way she should. The man beside her had reminded her every single day that she is a stunning and caring person that deserves the world and more. She eventually started to believe it herself. She began to start seeing herself that way. She woke up and looked in the mirror and started to remind herself that she was beautiful and that she was going to take over the world. 

The affirmations had come from opening herself up to people who genuinely cared about her. Because being vulnerable isn’t bad whatsoever. 

It allowed you to let go of whatever pain there was inside your heart and leaned onto someone so they could hold your pain as well because you finally weren’t alone. You finally had people who loved you and needed you. 

You had opened your heart up all those years ago, and it led you to the best thing that’s ever happened to you. 

With two years of loving each other and two years of long distance, you had opened up your heart to the most special man in the world. The constant tears of missing each other from the other side of the world. The need to feel his touch. The tiring plane rides every four months to visit him, until it was his turn to visit you. The care packages. The long FaceTime chats. They all led to the best hugs when you reunited with Harry. 

You would travel the world and back if it meant Harry was your destination. 

And it was where the world took you that led to your forever. 

feedback is appreciated here! <3 also i would love to take blurbs for this and write more about them, so please let me know what you like to read!

[teaandatale]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO @geekynerddemon who so lovingly wished for me to finish Layer on Layer. And though I haven’t been able to do so, I thought I would whet your appetite with a preview of Part 1 of my 2 Part Epilogue.

Please note this is a rough draft & subject to thorough revisions when I get the writing muse under control again.

Layer on Layer: Epilogue- PART ONE

“You see one painting, I see another, […] it’ll never strike anybody the same way and the great majority of people it’ll never strike in any deep way at all but—a really great painting is fluid enough to work its way into the mind and heart through all kinds of different angles, in ways that are unique and very particular. Yours, yours. I was painted for you.” ― Donna Tartt, The Goldfinch

Despite the scorching heat radiating from the sudden summer outside, Steve had turned the AC off while the sun blazed in through the windows of the loft’s living room where he’d been painting. He had his music turned up and he was humming as he worked.

Peggy had given him the custom made easel, sturdy, adjustable, gorgeous, no doubt pricey, as a gift. He’d been painting so much that Peggy had deemed it necessary he have an easel at her place, a designated space to work since he spent so much time there anyway. She had claimed is a selfish gift after he voiced concern about her being too generous, assuring him she looked forward to watching him paint from the comfort of her couch. And she often did, taking breaks from her work by watching him mix colors and paint broad strokes.

The first thing he had painted at his new easel was for her, another detailed flower arrangement, just for her.

After unveiling the final product of Ana’s anniversary painting, which reportedly made Ana cry, happy tears Jarvis assured, she had given Steve a tremendous hug and after their double date dinner, they discussed art for a long time, their significant others at their sides sipping tea opting to discuss the dessert spread instead. He’d been so happy and warm to sit there among her friends, her make-shift family, accepting and open to him. How he could possibly love Peggy more he didn’t fully understand other than that he was learning he did it with every passing day.

Not long after that, Peggy started suggesting dates at more art museums and galleries. She watched him paint and encouraged him to do it more broadly. To show his work. To do more commissions. He wasn’t sure about all that, but he did start to paint more and more. He’d started even transferring images out of his therapy journal into oils. He’d done several, even brought one in to show his art therapy group. They encouraged him to make a series, to show his stories on canvas.

Steve swirls his paintbrush into his yellows, ochres melding with browns.

He’s deep in concentration getting her warm brown eyes just right, the right shade, the touch of a knowing glimmer in them. He remembers the first time they locked eyes, across her bedroom, just down the hall from where he stood right then.

He’s so deep in concentration, he doesn’t think twice at the sound of the front door opening and then when he hears footsteps approaching.

“Hey Peg, aren’t you late?” he asks distractedly without looking up.

“She sure is,” a voice that’s not Peggy’s startles him. He nearly drops his palette, tipping it over and paint gets on his bare chest.

He looks up and sees Angie.

“Sorry!” she cries out, and he notices she’s not looking at his face when he sets the palette down, trying to wipe at the pint on his skin. “Wow. This is a look. Go English!”

Steve blushes, grabbing his rag and using it as a make-shift cover for at least part of his bare torso.

“I thought you two were meeting at your hotel for drinks,” Steve said, reaching over to the couch for his shirt. Angie is still staring when he slips it on.

“We were but she was running late. And so when she didn’t show I thought I’d see if we got our wires crossed and see if she was here. Sorry for scaring you. I still had my key, and I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t realize you’d be here.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “I’m sure Peggy just got caught up or stuck in traffic. You know how her work is.”

Angie nodded. “Yeah, she’s always going at a hundred miles a minute.” She stepped further into the room until she was right in front of the canvas. “You’re painting Peggy! You’ve been painting a perfect portrait of her half-naked looking like a Greek God. Unreal.”

Steve blushed further. “It’s hot in here but I prefer the breeze and the sunlight filtering in while painting so I turned the air conditioning off.”

“Oh don’t apologize, Steve. This has been the best surprise to walk into. I can’t imagine how Peg handles coming home to this every day.”

“We’re not living together.”

The yet goes without saying.

She giggled. “Yeah and when’s the last time you were at your place?”

“This morning,” he said defensively.

She just smirked and continue to devolve into giggles.

“You’re an amazing artist. That looks just like Peggy, down to that spark in her eye. I might need to hire you to paint me.”

He laughed. “Free of charge Angie. Friends and family plan.”

She grinned. “You’re as sweet as a button, you know that?”

“Can I get you something? Water?” he asked, already headed into the kitchen.

“Water’s good.”

They say down in the living room together chatting.

“How was your flight? Did you have press today?”

“Yup. Did a few of the morning shows. I have a late-night show appearance tomorrow afternoon that I’m pretty excited about. I can’t believe they’re having me on it!”

“We’ll have to record it. Peggy and I have been watching every episode by the way. But we’re a few behind because I have to wait and watch them with her. But you’re our favorite!”

“Aw, shucks. I cannot believe you got Peggy watching network TV.”

He laughed. “No I got her to use Netflix. You got her into network TV. She says you’re the most believable, though she always figures out the plot twists before I do. Are you giving her spoilers?”

“No way! And give away the impact of my performances before she sees them? That’s definitely all English. How’s she been? Super busy?”

“A little, but less so recently. She had a busy few weeks before her conference with the EU but she’s been keeping a regular schedule lately, coming home for dinner most nights.”

“Guess I just got unlucky with my timing,” Angie replied. “But I’m glad Peggy’s been taking some time for herself.”

Steve nodded. He’d seen Peggy in all sorts of ranges of stress in the last ten months. He’d been so glad that she’d been taking more personal time off, delegating, taking care of her well-being, seeking out his support when she needed it. Of course she was a busy woman. That was a given. But she always tried to make time. She always took the effort to stay present when they spent quality time together.

She’d gone out of her way to support his painting. They’d spent so many evenings out, sipping wine and swinging by the latest “hot” opening only for Peggy to proclaim that his work was much better, more moving, worthy of his own showing.

He still wasn’t all too sure about the whole artist career, but he loved how supportive she had been. How much she cared. How much she believe in him. It was nice to know if nothing else, he had a fan in Peggy.

“I’ve been trying to make sure she’s been taking care of herself better.”

“Good. I already know how good you are to her. She’s always happy to talk about you. I wouldn’t have believed it before actually meeting you.”

He shrugs off the compliment, after all he didn’t want the praise for just being there for someone he loved. Besides she deserved it and more.

“Maybe she’s got held up in a meeting. I’m sure she remembers our reservation,” Steve said after another fifteen minutes without hearing from her. “I’ll try to call her again.”

He didn’t catch her, but he did leave her a message reminding her of their reservation and that he and Angie would meet her there. Steve changed quickly in Peggy’s room and then the two of them hailed a cab. Angie filled him in on some L.A. gossip and some stories of her cast mates. He liked how bright and bubbly Angie was. He liked hearing stories of how she and Peggy became friends. How Peggy had always believed in Angie becoming an actress, and how the two always had each other’s backs. He liked knowing there were people apart from himself that cared so much for her.

They were early for their reservation, opting for the bar while they continued to swap stories. He checked his phone once they were seated but there were no messages. Angie convinced him to split an appetizer as she was starving and he hadn’t eaten since lunch.

“Must be some hell of a meeting English is stuck in for her to respond to my texts for like five hours.”

Steve hummed, checking his phone.

“Wait. What did you say? You haven’t heard from her in that long?”

[theteddylupinexperience]

Angel pt. 1 | Marcus Pike

AN: the bitch is back, this time with a Marcus Pike x reader fic! Subtly unsubtle Bones crossover here, the reader is part of Booth’s team because this is immensely self indulgent and I wanted to bring together my two favorite crime dramas. Stay tuned for part two, coming as soon as my brain gives me even a lick of inspiration!

Word count: 1290

Warnings: swearing, alcohol, kissing, shy!Marcus, mentions of Teresa deserve their own warning, too many mentions of Marcus’s shoulders

“You keep staring at her like that, your face will get stuck,” Booth laughs. Marcus looks away from you and Angela on the dance floor to glare at the man across the table.

“I have no idea what you’re talking-“ he starts, before glancing back over. You’ve thrown your head back with laughter at something Angela’s said to you, and the sound is like music to Marcus’s ears. He feels the tops of his ears get hot, and his heart beats erratically at the sight of you so care free. So angelic, dancing like a fool to whatever shitty pop remix is playing. Your cheeks are flushed from the heat of the club, and the alcohol coursing through your veins, and at that moment Marcus decides you are more beautiful than any painting he’s ever saved.

Angela leans over to whisper something in your ear, and you look over to the table where Marcus and Booth are sitting. Booth waves sarcastically, and you give him the finger and stick your tongue out playfully. Your gaze reaches a pair of warm brown eyes, and you positively beam at the man behind them. If Marcus thought his heart was beating quickly before, now he was worried about potential cardiac arrest.

He barely has time to collect his breathing before you’re skipping over to him.

“Hey boys,” Angela winks before sliding down next to Booth and grabbing whatever glass of water is left.

“Dance with me?” you ask Marcus, putting your hands on his shoulders and pouting as best you can before your fake sadness gives way to another round of cocktail induced giggles.

“Oh, I, uh, sure, okay,” Marcus stutters, and you bite your lip before taking his hands in yours and dragging him to the dance floor.

“Don’t you ever get tired?” He jokes.

“Me? No way, I never get a day off, I’m enjoying this to its fullest.”

“I gotta admit, the most experience I have is dancing at weddings.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you,” you smirk at him, taking his hands and setting them on your waist. You place your own on his broad shoulders and take a moment to admire the strength of this gorgeous man.

“You’re pretty,” you giggle.

“That’s the alcohol talking, sweetheart, the pretty one is you,” Marcus says seriously.

You flush, and this time neither the heat nor the alcohol have anything to do with it.

Angela had dragged your entire group to this club tonight after an excessively long work week. The Jeffersonian team and Marcus’s art crimes team had been working together a few months after the discovery of skeletal remains in a high traffic DC museum. Marcus was fresh to the city, nursing a broken heart and a chip on his shoulder. When you’d walked into the arts department of the FBI building, trailing along in the shadow of the lead agent, Booth, Marcus felt his heart skip a beat. He’d immediately shut down those feelings, unwilling to go through the same bullshit he had with Teresa. “Don’t shit where you eat, Pike,” he’d muttered to himself.

But you, you were different. Gorgeous and quick witted, always able to snap back at whatever jokes Booth made at your expense. Caring in the most simple ways, doing things without asking that Marcus realizes Teresa wouldn’t have even thought about. He’s barely given you the time of day, maintaining an absolutely professional relationship with you, yet you’ve already memorized how he takes his coffee, and you bring it to his office along with something to eat when you know he’s skipped lunch again. You allow him to open up to you strictly on his terms, never asking any prying questions or offering unsolicited advice.

“I get it, you know,” you had said once, after he was recounting the way Teresa had broken off their engagement over the phone. “I was with someone last year, someone I thought was it for me, and then out of nowhere he got back with his ex. And I still have to see them every day at work.” Marcus remembers how he had taken your hand in his wordlessly, and you’d stayed like that for awhile.

He’s suddenly aware of a hand waving in front of his face, and he’s brought back to the present.

“You disappearing on me, agent Pike?” you ask teasingly.

“Never,” Marcus smiles. Your confidence buckles under his gaze, and you look away shyly. He had to know how you felt about him, hell, everyone knew how you felt about him. You’re just surprised Angela hasn’t said something yet, ever the wing woman.

With his eyes never leaving you, you begin to wonder if he feels the same. Marcus had been a tough cookie to crack, a project you had taken on willingly and without being asked. You knew a broken soul when you saw one, one that mirrored your own. You hadn’t intended for anything to come from it past a potential friendship, but the more time you spent with the handsome FBI agent in front of you, the more you couldn’t help but feel like everything in your life had led up to this moment right here. You’re in Marcus’s arms, and he feels like home.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Marcus says, quirking his brow at your focused expression.

“I don’t understand how you’re single,” you say earnestly, and you watch a faint blush creep up his neck.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, fuck, like, have you seen you? You’re... perfect, Marcus.” You feel him stiffen in your arms at the sentiment, and you can’t help but run your thumb along his jaw soothingly.

“I mean it, I do,” you start, “it’s okay if you don’t feel the same, honey, but you deserve to know. And it’s not the alcohol talking.”

He smiles gently at your joke and turns his head to kiss your thumb. He tightens his arms around your waist to bring you closer.

“You’re an angel, you know,” he murmurs, leaning his forehead against yours. You lean up on your toes to brush your lips against his, softly, tentatively, giving him any and every opportunity to pull away if he needs. Instead, one of his hands slides up your body to tangle in your hair, and he pulls you impossibly closer to kiss you thoroughly. Everything about the way he kisses you is so entirely Marcus, his lips are softer than you could have ever dreamed, and when he glides his tongue against your bottom lip, it’s dizzying. His grip on you tightens as your knees buckle, and you keep yourself upright with your hands on his gorgeous shoulders.

When you finally break apart to breathe, Marcus doesn’t go far. He nuzzles his face into your neck, and nips delicately at the skin there.

“Is this real?” he asks, adorably shy as he stays hidden.

“It’s always been real with you, Marcus,” you feel him tense briefly, and then fully relax against you.

He kisses your cheek so sweetly you think you could cry, and then captures your lips with his again. You can’t help but chase him when he pulls away, and he smiles against you.

“You wanna get out of here?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Marcus takes your hand and leads you towards the door, and you wave goodbye to a grinning and giggling Angela and Booth before following him out.

“Do you wanna take a cab to mine?” Marcus asks, searching your face for any indication you might not be comfortable with his idea. A grin breaks across his face as you nod enthusiastically.

He kisses you once, twice, a third time, his lips lingering on yours after the last one.

“Let’s go, angel.”

[trillian-anders]

3,643 miles

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: tooth rotting fluff, smut (& exhibitionism), wee bit of angst

word count: 9.1k

description: established relationship; you’d met in college, both education majors. you really love bucky barnes, and nearing your five year anniversary when he proposes you go on a coast-to-coast road trip on summer vacation. you seem skeptical and unsure, but he assures you it’s worth it. 

New York City, New York – Mile 0

You hadn’t been serious. Not entirely anyway. Months ago, when you said to Bucky, half asleep, “We should go on a road trip, just you and me.” You remember his raspy voice in reply,

“Oh yeah?” His fingers slowly trailing down your bare spine as you slipped off into sleep.

“Yeah.”

It was something you’d almost forgotten all about until he brought it up five months later.

“Hey, do you think we should rent a car or just take mine?” You were chewing on a pen cap, going over the essays you needed to grade by Monday, a glass of wine by your side. He was sitting across from you, laptop open and a notebook full of different scribbles.

“For what?” You ask, taking a sip of your wine.

“Our road trip.” Like you’d forgotten, like it was something you’d already decided on. You shake your head, confused.

“What road trip?” His brow furrows.

“You said you wanted to go on a road trip.”

“When?” He was silent for a moment, staring at you like you had two heads.

“Christmas… when we were going to bed, you said you wanted to go on a road trip.” He explains simply, “Just the two of us.” You shake your head again.

“I was drunk on Christmas.” As if it explains it away, “We don’t really have the funds to take a road trip across the country, how long would that even take?” Typing a few things into your search bar you sigh, “Two to three months?”

“They went like everywhere,” He defends, “We are just going straight across.”

“I don’t know Bucky…” You sat back in your chair, crossing your arms.

“I’ve been doing the math.” He comes to your side of the table squatting down at your side, “We have more than twice of what we would need in savings, we still have enough to put down on a house next summer.” A kiss to your hand and some puppy dog eyes. “And we will be back in time for Steve’s wedding.” A kiss to your wrist, “C’mon baby, we’re still young, and pretty soon we won’t have time to do stuff like this. We never get to do anything this adventurous, come on.” You sigh, he’s right.

For the last five years you two had been together you were both working full-time jobs and in college. When school ended and you both got jobs you stayed in the shitty studio apartment you’d gotten when you first moved in together on the cheap to save every penny you could towards getting a nice house in the suburbs, something you both desperately wanted whenever the subject of marriage and kids rolled about. Which seemed to be more common lately, more so with both of your parents than with each other.

“You’re not getting any younger.” From both your Mom and his. His younger sister was just starting college and nowhere near continuing the Barnes bloodline, so his Mom was especially needy with you as far as wanting grandchildren. Something you and Bucky had briefly talked about but hadn’t made any real serious strides towards having. Your implant was good for another couple years and it wasn’t a real concern.

“Okay,” You agreed, “We should probably take your car to save some money.” A rental for even a month would be way too much. Bucky grinned, kissing you, again and again.

“It’s going to be so fun.” A kiss. “Really is.” Another kiss. His hand slipping to palm at your breast.

“Bucky I have to grade these essays.” He shrugs.

“Grade ‘em tomorrow.” A tweak of your nipple, his mouth sinking down to your neck, a well-practiced weak spot that never failed to make you shiver.

“Bucky.” You whined, fingers coming to grip his shoulders.

“C’mon baby.” You were weak for it. Played right into his hands and he knew it. You were such a sucker.

…

The last day of classes came faster than you thought, the morning after, bright and early you were getting ready to hit the road. Bucky had let you over plan a little if only to satisfy yourself and solidify the fact that you wanted to go on this trip. Almost 4,000 miles. The road ahead of your seemed daunting but he liked to remind you,

“We have all summer; we don’t need to rush.” Which means if you need to stop for the night, then you needed to stop for the night, but the goal was to drive as close to each major destination as you could before looking for a room at a nearby hotel or motel. Whatever seemed more convenient. You’d packed one large suitcase between the two of you and a bag of snacks and drinks for the times where you couldn’t reach a gas station or got uncontrollably snacky and bored.

“Please don’t forget to water our plants.” You begged the blond. Steve seemed a little done with it.

“I won’t forget to water the plants.” He was going to forget, he was beautiful, but endlessly forgetful. You sigh, stepping into his open arms and hugging him. “You guys be careful, if you run into any trouble just give me a call.”

“We’re going to be fine.” Bucky took his friend into a hug after you released him, “We’ll let you know when we get to DC.” The first stop on the trip.

“Have fun! Try not to kill each other!” You roll your eyes, slipping into the passenger seat and plugging your phone in, getting the GPS set up. Bucky slipped into the driver’s seat, grasping your hand and laying a kiss on your palm.

“You ready baby?” You smile excitedly,

“Yeah, I’m ready.” Your little notebook in your lap. A polaroid camera for the aesthetic. A picture developing on your lap that you’d gotten Steve to take of the two of you in front of the car before leaving. The first stretch wasn’t very long. Just about four hours with mild traffic, but you knew with it would be closer to six, but once you were out of the North East the roads would open up at least for a little while.

You hit traffic trying to get out of the city almost immediately which is why you liked Bucky driving. Driving in the city was always stressful and you rarely ever had to do it, you’d never gotten that NYC aggression and seeing as he learned how to drive on these streets you let him take the first leg. You’d switch with him most likely somewhere in New Jersey, probably before you hit Delaware.

“Aren’t you excited?” He asks you. You had to admit, seeing him so giddy and excited about something further enforced the excitement you had been feeling about this trip. You’d never been anywhere further than the North East, once you broke free of DC you’d be in uncharted territory and it did excite you.

“Of course, I am.” You smiled at him, he leaned over the center console to kiss you, a loving sweet kiss interrupted by a loud honk from the man behind you, the light was green.

Washington, DC – Mile 233

“Okay, smile.” Bucky snapped a picture of you standing in front of the National Mall, the Washington Monument tall in the background. The day stayed bright and sunny. With the plan of hitting a museum before dinner, the two of you arrived around lunch time, stopping to grab some food before parking the car and walking around on foot.

You’d snapped a couple pictures of him on your phone while he’d been talking to his Mother during lunch, which you scrolled through while you walked to the next destination. The Smithsonian. The Natural History museum that had currently been doing an exhibit on the late Stan Lee. Something Bucky was excited about.

Copies of old prints. Videos of Stan Lee himself, Jack Kirby, and Steve Ditko. A bunch of first editions in plexiglass containers. His favorite, however, was the character his parents named him after. A life replica of the suit he wears in the comics on display. You took a couple pictures of him with it, sending them onto the group chat you had with him and his family.

His hand was in yours walking through more exhibits, both of you aimlessly walking up to different displays and stopped at the little gift shop for Bucky to look at some exclusive merch they had for the Stan Lee exhibit, including a paperback book about Stan Lee and a large exhibit book with detailed explanations about everything you’d just seen.

“Did you want to drive tonight?” Bucky asked while you were grabbing coffee, “Or do you want to find a room?” You playfully shove him, he playfully shoves you back.

Later your back would find the soft hotel mattress, giggling and a little drunk from the multiple drinks had at dinner. The hum of his lips against yours, fingers plucking on your strings, gentle moans and a hand pressed against the headboard as it smacks against the wall in a steady rhythm.

It was nice. This vacation was nice. And much needed after wrangling teenagers all day.

“I love you so much.” You moan against his mouth, the grind of his hips against yours making your eyes roll in the back of your head. His fingers laced in yours.

You knew that you and Bucky had a good relationship. It’s always been stable and nice and good. You love him and you know he loves you. You’ve never had to question that. Your last relationship, seemed like so long ago now, wasn’t that great. Time never made for each other, a great lack of communication, just being young adults and drinking too much at parties and screaming at each other in the car.

When you met Bucky it was an instant attraction. He was charming, sweet. He’d brought you snacks in the library and helped you study for your history exams. Currently, he was still slowly working towards his Doctorate, wanting to eventually teach at the college you’d both attended. But back then you’d moved in together almost instantly. Not just because the relationship came so easily, but because of finances as well.

Money was a little less tight when someone was sharing the bills with you.

Yeah, you had your arguments. Someone leaves their dishes next to the sink instead of in it. Someone keeps putting off taking out the trash. Someone doesn’t make the bed in the morning. Someone leaves their dirty socks next to the hamper than inside it. But they were small things. Things you could both try to do better. And you have.

Another thing all together was the sex.

You were never someone who said the sex had to be good right away. It takes time to learn someone’s body and really figure out what someone likes and what they don’t like. And while the sex has definitely improved over the years, he knew how to make you cum in less than two minutes and was very proud of that fact, your first sexual experience with each other had his head under your skirt in a dark corner of the school library like you were a Victorian royal canoodling with a servant.

You were red about it for days, thinking about how hard you came on his tongue almost caught by another student looking for records for their thesis. The grin on his face for a week afterward as he enjoyed the hastily decided exhibitionism.

It grew from there.

Bucky loved the fear of getting caught, it was one of his favorite things. You couldn’t even really remember everywhere the two of you had sex of some kind. And when you’d had your second pregnancy scare you decided to get the little implant you still have now.

“I love you so fucking much.” That grind. You loved it and he knew it. He would have your knees hooked over his arms, resting in his elbows, he would be deep, brushing your cervix and grinding his hips against yours, pubic bone grinding on your clit. Your nerve endings on fire. “So fucking wet.” Around him. You could feel his cock throb inside of you and you knew how badly he wanted to move, but he wanted you to beg him for it more.

And you would.

Always.

Your leg was over his thigh at breakfast. Sitting at the bar top of the little diner. “So I think today will just be driving.” Over a piece of toast, “I think it’s like… 10 or 11 hours.” So you’d probably get there just in time to get some sleep. He nods, taking a bite out of his omelet, his thumb brushing your thigh. You were scrolling through your phone. His fingers playing with the hem of your shorts.

“Do you want to drive first?” He asks, “Or do you want me to?”

 Nashville, TN – Mile 890

The road to Nashville cut through the mountains. Music blasting and windows down, you snapped pictures as Bucky traversed the winding roads that were mostly empty aside from shipment trucks and the occasional other car also travelling to some unknown destination. It was gorgeous out there.

“Could you imagine living out here?” You asked him as you spot a cabin mixed in among the trees on the side of the mountain not too far in the distance. He had his sunglasses on, his hair a little grown out and longer than he usually kept it was whipping around his face.

“Absolutely not.” He laughed. The city boy, through and through, you’d really struggled over deciding where you’d like to buy a house when the two of you decided to actually start saving. He wanted to buy an apartment first, but then a debate of what would be more realistic, what would give them enough living space for what they would be paying. There was a period of time where all you looked at were the pretty brownstones you knew you couldn’t afford, but once the two of you reeled it in and really looked you decided to move closer to where Bucky would be working as a professor.

“It’s bad enough you have me moving to New Jersey.” He laughs. But it was all a jest, he wanted to work for Rutgers in New Brunswick. It was where both of you went to college, after all.

“We should go camping.” You take a picture as you cross a bridge, capturing the rippling mountain water.

“You would hate camping.” He shakes his head, “You went to summer camp for a week in fifth grade and told me it was the worst experience of your life.” You sit back in your seat glaring at him.

“Maybe it would be different now that I’m an adult,” You offer, “And the only reason why it was horrible in the first place is because night one the girls said the cabin was haunted and then I just couldn’t sleep for the rest of the week.” Those little bitches. Bucky full belly laughs, the haunting of the girl was also on top of you getting a UTI and seeing a family of bears roam about outside one day so you couldn’t go outside.

“We are not going camping.” You huff but don’t answer because you know he was right; you’d hate camping.

…

“I don’t even remember the last time we had McDonald’s.” You say while dipping three fries into your small dipping cup of sauce.

“After finals.” It wasn’t as good as you remember it being, but you’d also gotten a salad to split as well. Not being able to quite justify eating strictly burgers and fries. Bucky’s memory was a steel trap, unlike his blond best friend. Bucky could easily recall events, almost in striking detail which really sucks when you promised to go do something and wanted to act like you forgot, he could tell you exactly when you said it.

Like drunk on Christmas when you say you should take a road trip, although this wasn’t a half bad idea.

“You got a 20-piece nugget.” He continues, “You ranted for the entire night about how they only gave you three sauces for 20 nuggets.” A history major who had great memory recall. Tests were very easy for him. The bastard. You used to be so jealous.

“Sounds like something I would do.” You laugh.

Nashville was dark when you’d arrived. Downtown thriving with noise and pedestrians as you drove around, tired, while Bucky looked at local hotels. You’d found a decent one for cheap not too far from where you’d been driving and as soon as that hotel room door shut you slipped into bed. Waking slightly when Bucky slipped into bed behind you, pulling you into his chest. The little wet strands of his hair tickling your cheek as he pressed a kiss there, falling back under.

The Parthenon. A life size replica of the one in Greece. A polaroid or two there. Nashville was gorgeous. Aside from the main city were little outlying towns with walkable shopping and a ton of little restaurants and local coffee shops.

You take a sip of your iced coffee, giving Bucky an odd look as he looks at a wall of cowboy boots. “You’re not buying those.” He turns and gives you a playful glare. “Babe, they’re $300, no. You would never wear them.”

“Maybe I’m going to make them a staple of my closet.” He shrugs, “That’s what that girl you watch says right, make something a staple and work your other clothes around it?”

“She doesn’t mean $300 cowboy boots.” You laugh. “You’re never going to wear those.”

“I could though.”

“But you won’t.”

You’d gone and enjoyed the city, hit a couple breweries and had bar food before doing a little tour of the Grand Ole Opry and walked around the Opry Mills Mall before grabbing dinner. The restaurant had line dancing and pretty decent barbecue. But the one drink they had, some sort of peach and whiskey, went down a little too smooth. And poor Bucky who hadn’t drank quite as much, was propping you up on his shoulder as you stumble down the street back to your hotel.

“We should go to an actual bar,” You whine. “I’m not tired.” You stumble, his arm wrapping around your waist a little tighter.

“You are tired,” He laughs, “Your bedtime was two hours ago.” You stick your tongue out at him but try to keep step. You’re sure he slowed down from his usual long strides for you.

“We are on vacation,” Another whine, “We can stay out late.”

“Baby everything is closing,” He tries to reason, “It’s 2 am.” You gaze around the area you’re in. Stragglers, barely anyone around. It was a weeknight after all.

“But I don’t wanna go back to the room.” He gives you a look, stopping in the street and backing you up against the wall, capturing your mouth against his, his hips grinding against yours. “Bucky…” A whine against his mouth.

“You don’t want to go back to the room right?” It was a darker corner, the streetlight not quite reaching. His fingers unbuttoned your shorts, slipping his fingers into your panties to stroke at your clit. A moan muffled into his mouth. You could feel how hard he was on your thigh. Your mind frazzled and swimming in alcohol still, hand gripping his wrist as his fingers prod your opening, thumb continuing to move in tight practiced circles on your clit. Your legs were trembling as his face pulled away from yours. His forehead resting against yours, eyes connected. “You’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you baby?”

Fuck. “Yes.” A whine for a different reason this time, his fingers entering you and immediately stroking your g-spot. Your thighs clamping around his hand as you cum, your loud moan muffled by him capturing your mouth. He worked you through your aftershocks before pulling you tightly into his body, massaging the back of your neck, licking your taste off his fingers.

“C’mon baby,” He kisses you again, “Let’s go to bed.”

New Orleans, LA – Mile 1,422

Your head was pounding, eyes closed with a water bottle pressed to your skull. The music soft in the background while Bucky, bless him, offered to take the first leg of the driving. The eight-hour drive that you were sure would take about nine. He was an angel running into the gas station while you pumped the gas to grab you water and medicine for your headache. While not at all laughing about how you fell flat on your ass into the hotel room and begging him to kiss what was now a bruise on your hip and left ass cheek.

“I can’t believe I drank that much.” You groan, taking a sip of your water.

“I can’t believe you drank that much.” Humor in his voice. The asshole. You napped for the first hour or two, before Bucky began to get antsy. Shifting in his seat, trying to stretch his legs out.

“I can drive.” You mumble, coming out of your nap. “I just need my sunglasses.” His hands tightened on the wheel,

“I could probably go another hour or so.” He says. You roll your eyes,

“Next gas station, we’ll switch.” A sip from your water bottle, “You’re obviously uncomfortable.”  He grumbles under his breath, but does it anyway, stepping from the car somewhere in Alabama. He stretches and you swear you could hear a couple pops in his spine. After grabbing a couple snacks and some coffee from the gas station you were back on your way, feeling a little more alive than you had previously.

The music a little louder, Bucky pulled out the book he’d gotten at the Smithsonian, the windows cracked. You made it back on the road and towards your destination still 7 hours long.

When you’d been planning this road trip Bucky decided to make a bunch of playlists on his phone, each supposedly for a different kind of mood, but they all sounded quite the same to you. All but one which was just labeled ‘XXX’ and had such hits as ‘Pony’ by Ginuwine and ‘Sex with Me’ by Rihanna. Which is strange because you’d never had a sex playlist normally, but suddenly he thinks you need one to play on speaker on his phone next to the bed in hotel rooms.

The one he had playing originally was something mellow, without lyrics. Thoughtful to your raging hangover, but you needed something to focus on. Something you could sing, badly to, but sing to keep yourself from going crazy on a stretch of highway you felt like you’d been on forever. Which you kind of were. It was one straight highway for the entire 533 miles it would take to get you from Nashville to New Orleans. That little pitstop just dipping you off the exit and then putting your right back on.

It was brain numbing honestly and you tried to go as long as possible before switching back. Bucky had fallen asleep sometime an hour or so after you started driving, book folded over his thumb and seat tilted back.

You felt bad. You kept him up so late last night and then he’d let you sleep in while he got ready. Bringing you breakfast and coffee and waking you up slowly. You thought back to him in the hotel room, the soft kisses and whispers. He’d gotten you in the shower with the bribe of giving you a massage after, which he did. You glance at him in the rearview, his arm thrown over his eyes. You could go a little longer.

The first thing the two of you did getting into New Orleans was stop for a drive thru daiquiri before finding what hotel you’d be staying in for the night.

Bags down you sip on the strawberry liquor slush, sinking into the sheets of the hotel room. “Take it easy.” Bucky laughs, stealing it from you and taking a sip. “Don’t want a repeat of last night.” You stick your tongue out at him and he leans over and kisses you, your fingers moving to tug on his belt loop, pulling him over to the bed. Sitting up you continue to kiss him, beginning to palm him through his jeans.

“Thank you for taking care of me.” Mumbled against his lips as you begin to work on his belt. “I really appreciate it.” Looking up at him through your lashes as you free him from his briefs. His breath catches as your cool tongue licks the tip, mouth stained red. Wide and flat against his head. Tapping it on your tongue before circling around the tip and sucking it into your mouth, his fingers twisting in your hair, not pushing but just holding.

You drip spit down on his cock, using your hand to spread it down his length before sucking him back in your mouth, beginning to bob your head to meet your stroking hand. Your other hand moving below to fondle his balls.

You watch his head fall back, a gasp as his fingers tighten in your hair. You feel the spongey tip of him brush the back of your throat, holding yourself there for a moment before pulling off and stroking him root to tip. He bent over meeting your mouth, kiss passionate and lusty. When you part you sink your mouth back onto him, moaning.

His hips gently thrust into your face, you know he’s getting close, his breaths coming out in short pants, the barely there thrust of his hips when he’s craving more friction you oblige to, speeding up your movements and you gently tug on his balls.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum baby.” His head tossing back and a groan as he begins to empty himself into your mouth. You work him through his aftershocks, his hips giving one true thrust right at the end before you swallow. His mouth meeting yours in a satisfied hum.

You went to the French Quarter for dinner. A place with a live jazz band and good food. The atmosphere unmatched. The French Quarter was much less of a drunken mess than Bourbon Street itself, that beast to be tackled a different night. You had a little bit of a pregame with those daquiri slushes before dinner. Buzzed and comfortably riding it throughout. You’d sipped on a rum and coke while listening to the jazz. Just enjoying the night. Tired from driving but satiated from the food. Your hand rubbing your belly you were so full.

“I love you.” His fingers twisting in the stray hairs that fell from your clip. You smile at him, leaning over and pressing a kiss to his lips.

“I love you too.”

You stayed mostly sober while he drank on Bourbon Street. You let him sing horrible karaoke at Cat’s Meow and drug him away from his forced politeness with about six other woman and at least five men. And you let him lean on you and babble while you waited for the uber back to your hotel.

“You’re so fuckin—hiccup—pretty.” Wet on your ear, slobbering and you laugh. “Like so fuckin pretty.” His mouth sloppy on your cheek.

“You’re going to have a hell of a hangover tomorrow.” And it would be your turn to take care of him.

That day had been really nice, a little rainy but you’d gotten beignets and coffee at Café Du Monde and bought a pack of the beignet mix and coffee cup to bring home. You’d seen the Madame LaLaurie house which you were sure you’d be talking to Peggy about later, you’d walked around Jackson Square in the light drizzle and even made your way to walk around Audubon Park. You’d been surprised when Bucky said he wanted to go drink on Bourbon Street seeing as you’d been up for a while, but you obliged and now you were rubbing his back as he told you he was nauseous, his arms wrapped around the toilet bowl.

“I don’t feel good.” He blubbers.

“I know baby.” The tile was cold, hard, and uncomfortable. He gagged. And you sigh, wondering if you should just help him throw up so he would feel better. But he finally vomited. You got him cleaned up, helped him brush his teeth. Fed him some water and helped him out of his clothes. His arms wrapped around your waist as he sat on the edge of the bed. Mumbling words you couldn’t understand as you tried to pull his shirt off. His pants long discarded.

“C’mon baby.” You tug on the shirt stuck in his armpits. His arms weakly lift from your body, letting you lift the shirt off him and laying him under the covers. His fingers twisting in your shirt, “I’ll be right back.” In the bathroom you quickly wipe up the toilet, flushing the extra mess and grabbed the trash can, bringing it out to his side of the bed and resting it on the floor near his head, his arm hanging off the bed and already snoring.

The next day when you were eating breakfast, he drank heartily on a Bloody Mary, trying to get the hair of the dog and feel more alive.

“I can’t believe you let me drink that much.” A groan over fried green tomatoes. You roll your eyes,

“I didn’t… the guys buying you shots when my back was turned did.” It was a laugh really, how Bucky wouldn’t realize someone was flirting with him. So out of touch from being in a relationship, Bucky had been quite the charmer when you first met but had a really hard time noticing when someone else was flirting altogether. A marvel, but it’s true.

“But they were so nice.” He reasoned making you laugh.

“They really were.”

San Antonio, TX – Mile 1,965

Another 543 miles, which 541 were spent on the same road. Honestly it was probably the worst part. Driving in mostly a straight line for hours with long stretches of road in between each stop. But that’s how this part of the country was. It was hotter down here for sure, or maybe just because you were getting deeper into summer.

San Antionio was sweltering, you could feel your shirt sticking to your back as you took in the air conditioning of the hotel lobby you were currently in. The electronic keycard slipped across the counter to Bucky while you waited a step behind before shifting your bag back on and following him to the elevator.

The hotel was a lot like every other hotel, but the only thing you were really worried about now was the shower. Bags dropped and the small toiletry case in hand you slipped into the shower, letting the water run a little cold to cool you off before turning it a little higher to be more comfortable. You can hear Bucky enter the bathroom, the shower curtain being pulled back as he entered behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and dragging you back into his body. Just holding you for a minute.

“Are you okay?” He asked. Pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Yeah, I think I just need some alone time.” You hadn’t talked much during the drive from New Orleans to San Antonio. You were used to getting time apart from each other. Not that you didn’t like spending time with him, but sometimes you just wanted to be alone and right now you were getting that itch. He hums, his arms tightening for a moment more before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

“After the shower, why don’t you take a nap before dinner, hmm?” He reached over grabbing the soap, “I’ll go grab us dinner and bring it back,” beginning to wash, “We can eat in the room tonight, sleep in tomorrow?”

“That would be nice.” You’d finished your shower, slipped into comfortable clothes and flipped through the local channels on the tv, finding something for background noise as Bucky left the room.

You would get like this sometimes.

Bucky was always a little more adventurous. Back in college you probably wouldn’t have done half the things you did if it weren’t for him. He was far more outgoing; he had more friends. He was always dragging you out of first your dorm, and then your shared apartment. He didn’t need the alone time like you did and at first he was a little hurt by it.

Like you didn’t want to spend time with him, and it wasn’t that. You just needed a little bit of time to yourself to just be on your own and decompress a little. But he kind of knew when you needed it now. When you got a little quiet. When you needed a little space. And he found himself enjoying the time that you spend apart. You were sure he was enjoying his little walk,

“I get to kind of quiet myself a little bit.” He told you, “I always feel like I’m going all the time.” There were often times where you’d spend time together in the same room just not talking, a comfortable silence as you watched tv and he graded papers or just laying in bed reading next to each other. You felt like you didn’t deserve him sometimes.

He always catered to your social anxiety and your stress and you try to do the most you can for him, but there’s always that fear of it not being enough. Like maybe you’d wake up one day and he’d decide that it just wasn’t a good fit anymore.

What would you even do then?

A quick nap, only thirty minutes or so. Then you lay there a little bit, listening to the tv ramble on some sitcom you didn’t recognize. You hear Bucky come in, a paper bag of food in his arms, your eyes meet his and he smiles.

You didn’t deserve him.

“I found this food truck,” He sets down the two glass bottles of soda on the little table in the room. “The guy who runs it, his family used to own a restaurant here in San Antonio, but they were shoved out of business by this fucking corporate bastard who wanted the space for fucking condominiums, kept raising his fucking rent until he couldn’t afford it anymore.” A kiss to your lips, “How was your nap?”

“That’s terrible.” Your hand on his back as you sit at the table, him across from you. “It was good, I think I needed that.” He starts laying out the food. Tacos, empanadas, a little container of radish and limes. Extra cilantro. Little sauce cups of spicy salsa. A hot container of grilled peppers and cactus. A small container of extra rice. “This looks really good, thank you.”

He brings your hand up to his lips, kissing it. “Are you okay?” He asked, biting into the empanada sprinkled with queso fresco. You nod, massaging his arm before digging into the tacos.

“Yeah baby, I’m okay.”

You had to see the Alamo, obviously. The big limestone building that was pivotal in the Texas Revolution and was now a history museum. But you were more excited for the river walk. Not far from your hotel a bunch of small restaurants and shops, very touristy and brightly lit, but beautiful on the San Antonio River. Tomorrow would be the Japanese Tea Garden and the Natural Bridge Caverns, but you always liked a relatively easy day right after travelling.

You found yourself really looking at him for the first time in a long time. The little wrinkles by his eyes when he smiles that weren’t there five years ago. How often he licked his lips. How often he caught you looking at him. You were sure you looked lovesick. You found yourself resting your head on his shoulder a lot. Your hand in his as you walked around, the steady motion of his thumb moving across your hand a soothing balm for your growing anxiety.

“What’s going on?” He’d ask you later. “You’ve been really affectionate today.” His hands around your waist in the elevator heading up to the hotel room.

“I just love you, that’s all.” His hands moving to cup your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You meet his kiss, humming against his lips. The elevator doors ding and you walk to your room,

“I just want to sleep.” You hear him sigh behind you as you begin to get changed.

“No, what’s wrong?” Sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at you as you changed into your sleep shorts and tank top. His hand reaching out to yours and dragging you into his lap, your legs on either side of his, you wrapped your arms around his neck. “C’mon baby talk to me.” You felt silly.

“I just… feel like I don’t deserve you.” A laugh in his chest that made you feel dumb.

“I’m sorry baby,” His arms squeezing you a little tighter, “I didn’t mean to laugh.” His fingers tracing your spine. “I feel like I don’t deserve you sometimes, you’re always so patient with me. You pack my lunch for me every day.” He laughs, “You do cute things like bring me coffee when I’m studying or make me those amazing chocolate peanut butter cookies during finals. You know I love you,” He pulled back, your face coming from resting on his shoulder, his hand coming up to cup your jaw, brushing his thumb across your bottom lip. “I think we both like to take care of each other, there’s nothing wrong with that baby, you always take care of me so I try really hard to take care of you.”

“How are you so perfect?” A hum as you meet his lips, soft and sweet.

“How are you so perfect?” He falls back against the bed, dragging you down with him, his hand still rubbing your back. You softly kiss him and close your eyes, finding comfort in laying on his chest. “I think this trip was a really good idea.”

Four Corners Monument – Mile 2,936

“How could you have not checked that we were low on gas?” You were trying to not be angry. You were really trying not to be angry, but when there’s desert on either side of you it’s kind of hard not to be. It was sweltering and no gas also meant no AC.

“I checked our gas at the last stop,” Bucky was in the same boat, hands on his hips, “I think— “he sighs, “Maybe the gas gauge is broken.” You groan in frustration, stepping away from the car and pulling out your phone.

“Can you get a signal?” To call his AAA. A moment or two of him on the phone, before he hung up and turned to you.

“They said about two hours.” You huff, sitting down in the passenger seat, door open and arms crossed. You’d woken up extra early to make this 15-hour drive. You kicked at the hard ground with the sole of your sneaker, trying to calm down while Bucky paced a little.

“I knew we should have rented a car.” You glare at him from your seat.

“If you wanted to rent a car why would you ask me if we should take your car or not?” He didn’t answer. “Don’t blame me for this.” A sigh,

“I’m blaming myself.” A kick to his tire, “I’ve had this car for ten years now, we shouldn’t have taken it.” You worry your bottom lip, checking the time on your phone.

“If you knew we shouldn’t have taken it, why did we?” You didn’t mean for this to turn into an argument. But it somehow turned into a screaming match on the abandoned stretch of road. Not even over important things, things so insignificant like how he’d been taking his shoes off in the car and the stink of that or how you smacked your gum out of boredom. The heat leading the two of you to just explode for no good reason.

Two long strides, that is what was between the two of you. That’s all it took for him to grab you tightly and crush you against his chest, mashing your lips together. You moan into his mouth, fingers tangling in his hair for a harsh tug. Your back hit the side of the car, his fingers fumbling with the button of your shorts, tugging them open and roughly dipping his fingers into the wet heat between your thighs. Two fingers circling your opening before slipping inside and stroking your walls, thumb rapid on your clit.

Your hands fumble with his belt, your legs already shaking as you stroke his length, hot and hard in your hand. He removes his fingers from your now aching sex, “I need you so bad.” Shorts and panties shifted down on your hips, stuck on your knees, he turns you around pressing you to the car, feet kicking your legs open and you could feel his tip prod your entrance.

With one thrust he was home, his hips slapping against yours furiously, your hand drifting own between your thighs to strum on your clit, the pleasure growing. His hand rips yours away, replacing it with his.

“God you’re so fucking good.” Hot on you ear, “So fucking good baby.” That stretch and burn of him, on top of the practiced fingers on your clit brought you over almost immediately. A moan ripping from your lungs, as your clit became overbearingly sensitive. Your hand met his between your legs, trying to stop the steady motions, but he wouldn’t. His other hand left your hip and wrapped around your throat, dragging your back to his chest. “You’re gonna cum for me again.”

You were a mess, whining as two of his fingers slipped into your mouth and pressing down on your tongue, eyes rolling back in your head as you felt yourself gush around his cock. His hips giving a half a dozen sloppy thrusts before he moaned into your neck, emptying himself inside you. You catch your breath against him before your mind unscrambles and you realize that you’ve got cum dripping down your thighs in the middle of the desert.

“I think we needed that.” He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek before wiping his cum off your thighs with a tissue, bundling it up and tossing it into the plastic bag you’d been using for trash and tying it.

You snort, buttoning your shorts, “Always the romantic.” He grins, taking a sip out of a water bottle before passing it to you.

“It’s warm.” He warns. You scrunch your nose, taking a sip of the warm water, sweat dripping down your back.

“How much longer?” He checks his phone and looks at you with a defeated expression.

“An hour.” You had to change your shorts.

…

“This is it?” Just a pavilion, one on each side of the square and the little circular concrete stepping area and a large plaque on the ground. He’s laughing, the stress of everything that just happened ending in this.

“You can be in four states at once.” You shrug.

Grand Canyon Village, AZ – Mile 3,165

It was busy and a little crowded at the Grand Canyon. Which was kind of to be expected. A lot of people taking pictures with their families and couples taking pictures much like you’d been planning to. But the view.

It took your breath away.

You’d seen different environments on this trip that before you’d never been exposed to. The North East was heavily wooded, and everything was tightly packed together. Having lived in New Jersey and then NYC it was very much the same. You marveled at the mountains on your way to Nashville and when you first hit actual desert you pulled the car over to take a real look. The swamps and muggy weather in New Orleans you hadn’t gotten enough time to explore, but the first time seeing Spanish Moss was unreal.

But this was something else entirely.

Bucky caged you in against the metal gate keeping you from getting to the edge, his chest to your back and rested his head on your shoulder. “This is incredible.” He agreed.

You snapped a picture on your polaroid.

And probably about a dozen pictures of the two of you together. A nice couple from Idaho even took a picture on his phone and one on the polaroid and in return you took their picture and gifted them a polaroid of themselves.

You’d left around dinner time. Ordering in and spending the night in the room after shoving your laundry in the hotel laundry room.

“We’re only eight hours away.” You grin. “Eight more hours until we are at the Pacific.” It feels unreal that you’re almost to the opposite end of the country, but whenever you pulled up the map on your phone that’s where it showed you.

Driving had been getting a little more difficult the closer you got to your destination. You were just itching to just get there already and you were not excited for the drive tomorrow. You hadn’t touched the bed yet, still covered in a thin layer of dust, you could feel it between your toes, but the hunger led you towards eating the sandwich and salad combo from the shop the two of you ordered from before getting into the actual shower.

You sigh, fingers tangled in Bucky’s hair. His mouth attached to your clit in a gentle suck. One hand drifting up to play with your nipple, rolling it between his fingers. Your hips grind against his face. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” Almost, almost. His hand was fisting his cock the heat of it making your toes curl, cumming on his tongue. A few more quick tugs had him spilling over the tile. The best thing about hotel bathrooms was the water never went cold. Still hot and steamy as he pressed a kiss to your hip before standing. You bury your face in his neck, wrapping your arms around him as he pulled you close.

A soft rock side to side under the stream.

God you fucking love him.

Driving was honestly a hassle. You couldn’t go more than two hours without wanting to switch or stop, which as you grew closer and closer to California you began to see more houses and more people on the road around you.

His hand on your thigh as you finally crossed the California border, feeling a little more positive about finally getting to the end of the road before having to turn around.

Anaheim, CA – Mile 3,643

You read about California traffic, but it was unreal in person. The car hadn’t moved in a good five minutes you’re sure. How is this even possible? The gridlock because you’d taken an extra hour at lunch and gotten to California around rush hour.

“That was a mistake.” You sigh, rubbing your eyes. “We should have just hit a drive thru.” He rubbed your thigh affectionately.

“Doesn’t matter now,” He laughs, “We’ll get there.” You know he’s right, but you still feel a little string of irritation with yourself for not just pushing through a little more. “Are you excited?” He’s grinning, a squeeze on your leg.

“I’m very excited.” And you were. There was so much you wanted to see in California. And you both specifically set aside money to spend a day or two at Disneyland having gone to Disney World with both of your families before. Your Mom being a little obsessed, you were going to have to bring her back something for sure.

You had to get In-N-Out. That was a given. You’d almost stopped for it back in Tuscon but reasoned that you had to wait until California. “This is so good.” Bucky picked up some fries you had to order ‘animal-style’ just because it was an option. And it was so good.

“This was worth it.” Over a mouth of burger. Bucky nods,

“So worth it.”

Your toes dipped into the ocean. A hot and beautiful day. Bucky sat back a couple feet laid out on a blanket. You look back on him, propped up on his elbow, smiling at you. The water was warm, and it was unreal that it wasn’t actually green. At the Jersey shore the water is green from all the algae. But not here. It was actually blue.

His arms wrap around your waist, walking you both deeper into the water. The waves rocking gently over your bodies. The sun hot on your skin.

“This was so worth it.” Your legs around his waist in the water, his finger’s toying with your swimsuit bottoms. “Don’t.” Stern. It makes him laugh.

“Don’t what?” Fingers brushing on your labia through your swim bottoms.

“Bucky…” A harder press directly against your clit. Your eyes looking on the shore. “Stop.” Dragging yourself away from him you made him laugh harder, treading water to get back onto the sand, tossing a playful glare over your shoulder. “Pervert.”

A polaroid of the gate, Disneyland.

“The castle is small.” He says. Main Street similar to Disney World itself, but the castle was noticeably smaller than Cinderella’s castle in Orlando. But it was just as magical and just as expensive. You split a hand dipped corn dog and ate dole whip in the afternoon between rides.

It was a fun, but tiring day and left you both a little sunburnt on your nose and cheeks. You’d slept in the next day, barely able to pull yourself out of bed and your legs were sore from walking about ten miles yesterday. You UberEats breakfast to the room, well… lunch. And watched the weather forecast while trying to decide what to do that day, settling down on going to the Santa Monica pier seeing as the day was already half gone.

Bucky began acting a little strange halfway through your stay in California. He seemed anxious and more fidgety than usual. But every time you asked him about it, he shrugged it off as having too much caffeine or just being really excited to be going to go see the Hollywood sign or stopping by the Cecil Hotel, “Just to see it.”

It wasn’t until the night before you were going to start making your way back did you discover the reason why.

Sitting on the trunk of his car, facing the ocean. The food truck where you’d just had fish tacos and chips with guac off to your right, the only real light as you watched the sun set. He offered to go to the other food truck nearby and grab some ice cream. Homemade stuff boasted by the chalkboard sign on the side of the truck.

With his return and the comfortable quiet that came with watching the sun set over the ocean, you feel him shift to your side, fumbling with something before slipping off the trunk, his back to you.

“Bucky?” You watched him take a deep breath and turn, in his hand was a ring box.

…

Bucky had thought about proposing a million times.

Every time you’d bring him coffee at the library. Every time you’d turn down the bed before the two of you went to sleep. He’d almost proposed Christmas, but you’d wanted to drink so he held off.

When you brought up this road trip he started thinking about it, really. And decided that he would do it sometime during this trip.

He kept trying to figure out when he wanted to do it. That night of amazing sex in DC. The night you were babbling and drunk in Nashville. Maybe when he looked at you in that jazz club, your face lit up by the stage lights in New Orleans. He’d almost proposed in San Antonio when you were sweet and needy.  

He thought about it during your argument heading towards the Four Corners Monument but changed his mind. And at the Grand Canyon there were just too many people around. But here it was just the two of you, your car farther away from the crowd gathered by the food trucks. You’d just watched the sun set over the ocean. He knew it was now, he had to do it.

He wanted to do it.

“I had a whole thing… planned out.” He stumbles over his words, “I’ve thought about this every day for years now, I think. And I just… you’re the love of my life. You’re the only person I want to spend it with, and I know we haven’t talked a lot about getting married and I’m ruining this, but… This trip has really confirmed everything I already knew that I felt and I don’t think there’s any better time to ask…

Will you marry me?”

…

The ring felt strange on your finger but was easily ignored as your fingers tangled in Bucky’s hair. The windows in the car were cracked to keep them from steaming up, a practice well versed by both of your exhibitionist tendencies. The goal was to make it back to the hotel, but this abandoned stretch of highway would do just fine.

On his lap in the backseat you grind your hips against his, aching for it. Fingers fumbling with the buttons on his shorts and feeling his hands squeeze your bare ass while you work them down past his knees. A hover to adjust before sinking down.

Wet but not completely prepared, the stretch and burn a little intense. His mouth moving passionately against yours as one hand slipped between you and starting carefully stroking your clit. Your hands meet the head rest, using it as leverage to raise and lower yourself on his dick. His hips slip down on the seat a little to help you, thrusting up to meet your hips.

“I’m not gonna last,” He moans against your mouth. You start to gush around him, whimpering as you grow closer and closer to release. His hand that had been on your waist coming to tangle in your hair and tug, those practiced fingers of his between your legs finally bringing you over. He was quick to follow. Panting as you remain in his lap, feeling him soften, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you in tightly to his chest. Soft and loving,

“This was a really good idea.”

[jvnghxope]

love sewn | final

final part;

◦ pairing: Jungkook | reader

◦ genre: boy next door au; fluff, angst 

◦ word count: 9k

◦ warnings: angst, mentions of self-hatred, cheating, infidelity

◦ abstract: You’ve never cared about the thin-as-paper walls of your beloved apartment until Jeon Jungkook moved next door. You could hear everything –from his late-night parties on Saturday, to the quality time he spent with his girlfriend in the intimacy of his bedroom. One day, everything ceases. Days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months and you find yourself knocking his door before you can think it twice.

⇥ prologue | part one | part two | part three | final

◦ a/n: It took me a lot more than anticipated to edit it, but it is finally here! Thank you so much for all your love and support. I hope you have enjoyed this ride as much as I did. 

A numb feeling spreads throughout your body as you stare dumbfounded to his cellphone. 

You don't know if their conversation continues and you don't care. It's like your mind has shut down. You feel a giant knot inside your throat like you just swallowed a big-ass pill without water. This is awfully like that night two years ago and you feel the breath hitch in your throat. 

“Hey," Jungkook says as he appears in the hallway, dressed in jeans and a naked torso as he slides inside a t-shirt. “I was thinking we could go to this park after breakfast. It has a majestic view and you can draw something and I could take some pics– What’s wrong?” He asks the moment he sees your expression and then, his eyes fall to the cellphone. 

“You have, hmm, a new text,” you say as calm as you can and hand him his phone. 

Maybe it's not a good idea that you stay here. Yes. You need to go. You move past him to walk to his bedroom but he stops you, taking your wrist. 

"Did you read these texts?" He asks. A part of you expected him to be mad at you for invading his privacy, but he sounds more worried than anything. 

"It was not my intention," you reply, your voice just above a whisper. "I wanted to check the hour…" 

"Let me explain."

“There’s no need to explain.” 

"It is not what you think." 

You take a deep breath and turn around to face him. 

"What I think is that you have unresolved feelings for your ex."

There, you said it. The confusion in Jungkook's eyes only confirms it. He has an internal struggle. 

"It is complicated," he finally says. 

At that, you smile. "I know." 

You can assume by his expression that he feels genuinely torn. 

“Jungkook," you murmur, taking the hand that was holding your wrist in yours and squeezing it tightly. "I am not your girlfriend. You don’t owe me anything.” 

Words that are hard to pronounce but the truth behind them might give him some perspective. 

He shakes his head, "Don't do that." 

You frown, "Do what?" 

"Minimize this," he points at you and him. "Come here." He tugs you by the hand and leads you to his couch. 

"I hate to burst your bubble Kook, but we had one date." 

He nods, "I know. We might not be a couple. But that was something I was hoping we could be in the future. That we've dated once doesn't change the way I feel about you." 

The small layer of ice that was beginning to form around your heart warms at his words. 

"What about Zoe? Do you still love her?" 

He sits there, silently, pondering his answer carefully. 

"I'm going to be honest with you," he starts and your heart clenches, already fearing his words. "I don't know. I haven't seen her or spoken to her for over a year. But she was a big part of my life. I just can't forget her completely." 

You nod. You understand that. "I'm not asking you to do that. I just… I think we moved too fast. Last night–" 

"I don't regret what happened between us," he snaps. "Not at all. I thought I made myself clear when I told you about my feelings. I know I am a mess, and yes, maybe it was too quick. But last night was genuine and beautiful. I would do it again." 

The tears sting in your eyes. Jungkook caresses your cheek with his thumb when one of them falls. 

"Last night was special for me too. But there's something you need to understand. I don't think I could be with you until you resolve this. I don't want to be insensitive or selfish, or anything. I just know that, if we continue this, if we continue living inside a bubble, one day it will burst and someone is going to get hurt. What if when you meet her again you realize your feelings for her haven't changed at all? The three of us will be in a more complicated situation than none of us want to be. Believe me." 

At this point, the tears are cascading freely down your cheeks. 

"Don't you think that is a little pessimistic?" 

You sniff and wipe your cheeks with the back of your hand, "It is realistic. I've been in the same position before. I've been the second choice and I don't want to be again. So, I think I should go." 

You stand from the couch. 

"Wait!" He stops you. "What does that mean for me? For us?" 

"I think that's up to you. But, for now, maybe we should take some time to think and revalue our situation." 

He chuckles dryly, "That sounds awful to 'I don't want to see you anymore'. I don't blame you. I wish things were different." 

"Maybe right now it was not our time."

"I don't believe that. Everything happens for a reason." 

Ugh. Even in times like this, he is so stubborn. He stands from the couch, too. His eyes are red and he looks defeated. It only makes your heart sink even more. You hate seeing him like that. You wish things were different, too. 

Summoning all the courage you have, you take his face between your hands and raise on your tiptoes and press a soft kiss to his lips. Jungkook's arms find their way around your waist. 

"Take care of yourself, Jungkook." 

You murmur against his ear, hugging him. At that, his arms tighten around you. 

"Is this goodbye?" He asks, his voice strained and face buried on your hair. You choose to not reply and give him one last kiss to his cheek. 

After you've gathered all your stuff, you walk towards the door. But when your hand touches the doorknob, you hesitate. 

Is this really the right choice? 

It is, you tell yourself. And with that, you walk out of his apartment without looking back. 

Seeing you walking away broke his heart in a million pieces. 

He wanted to run after you so bad. Hug you and tell you everything was going to be okay. But he didn’t. He knew he needed to let you go. If seeing you walking was heartbreaking, seeing you cry because of him almost killed him. 

Waking up the next day after your departure felt surreal. Like he was dreaming. For a moment, he forgot what happened the night prior. He stood up and made himself something to eat. As he was breeding some coffee, he was waiting for your arrival like every Monday morning.  But of course, that didn’t happen. You didn’t come. And then it hit him. You didn’t swing his door open with that smile of yours he adores so much. 

He wanted to call, even send a text. But every time he picked up his phone, his mind was blank. Would you pick up if he called? If so, what should he say? He wished things were different. He wished he met you in different circumstances. 

He avoided all of Zoe’s attempts to approach him, too. Every call, every text since the last one. It has been a year. She had all those months to do it. Why was she contacting him now when his life was somewhat normal? She made everything more complicated than it already was. 

“...so, that’s the reason why we should keep it casual,” Yoongi finishes the sentence and turns to his friend. “Are you even paying me attention?” 

“W-what?” Jungkook blurts. 

“That’s a no,” Yoongi giggles and punches him softly on the shoulder. 

“I’m sorry. I logged out for a second." Jungkook rubs his temples and takes a sip of the coffee he left on the table. It is not even hot anymore, but the taste is enough to give him some comfort. 

“Are you okay?” Yoongi asks. When Jungkook nods, he hums. "You don't seem okay." 

Jungkook glares at his friend. 

“Yeah. I was just… thinking,” he says. "I have a lot in my mind."

"Yeah, no wonder." 

It is strange. He sometimes forgets how close to you he has become in the past few months. He is probably aware of the whole ordeal from both sides. 

"Shut up." 

Yoongi opens his mouth to say something snarky but gets interrupted by a newcomer: a cute redhead in a pretty business dress.  

"Hello. My name is Lisa and I’m the assistant of miss Hyeri. She will receive you now," she greets them and urges them to follow her. 

Then the realization hits him. Jungkook and Yoongi are about to have an important meeting with one of the curators of the most important museums in town. He doesn't have the time to be nervous because the next second the receptionist is opening one of the many wooden doors. 

A gasp falls from his mouth at the sight of the meeting room. It is both mesmerizing and massive. Most of the space is occupied by an enormous table. A woman is waiting for them at the end of the table. Jungkook recognizes her from the gala. 

"Min Yoongi, Jeon Jungkook" Hyeri greets them and shakes their hands. "Please, take a seat. Do you want something to drink? Coffee? Tea? Maybe something to eat?"

“I’ll have a cup of tea, thank you,” Yoongi says. Lisa nods and disappears through the door. Not much longer after that, she reappears with a cup of hot tea. 

“I’m so glad you guys could meet us here with so short notice.” 

“It is no problem,” Yoongi comments after taking a sip of his tea. 

"We were wondering why we are here,” Jungkook adds. 

“Oh, right,” she claps. “I have good news. One of my permanent artists recently decided to part ways with the museum and now that we have a free spot, we would like to offer it to you guys.” 

For a moment, they just stare at her with wide eyes and mouth agape. Yoongi is the first one to jump into action. 

“Seriously?” 

Neither of them can believe it. 

Hyeri nods with a smile. “The Museum is a big fan of your work. I've been following it for over a year. It is really impressive what you guys have accomplished.”

“Wow. That means a lot coming from you. Thank you,” Jungkook musters and then exchanges a look with Yoongi, slightly panicked. He has always admired Yoongi’s ability to hide his emotions. He is there, completely serious when Jungkook is freaking out. He is both excited and afraid. They have never had a boss. Never had to meet deadlines. To be honest, Jungkook is not very good with deadlines. He likes to work at his own pace. 

“So, how would it work?” Yoongi asks. 

“Unless there is a special occasion, we change the exhibitions every month or two months. If you agree to work with us, you’ll have a little over a month to work on your first one.” 

“Will we have creative flexibility?” Jungkook interjects.

"Totally. Unless there is a special theme or it violates our politics, you are free to create what you want.” Then, she hands them a folder. "Everything is explained in the contract. You can check it out. There is a money offer too. If you want to change it, we are open to negotiation." As if in cue, Lisa opens the door and waits with a smile. “I apologize but I don’t have more time. Please, feel free to arrange another meeting with Lisa whenever you have an answer. I look forward to hearing from you guys.” 

"No, it’s okay. We understand. Thank you again for receiving us," Yoongi says as he shakes the curator's hand. Jungkook does the same. 

"Thank you so much for coming. Have a nice day," she has enough time to wave them goodbye before her phone starts to ring. 

They follow Lisa out of the door with dumb smiles and full of hope. 

Thirty minutes later, Jungkook opens the door of their gallery. 

“I didn’t expect that,” he musters as Yoongi closes the door behind them. 

“Then why did you expect?” 

Jungkook shrugs, “I don’t know. A part of me thought she wanted to steal Vante from us.” 

Yoongi snorts, “And why would she tell us?”

“Good manners?” 

“Right.” 

"Anyway. It sounds like a good offer, right?" 

"Yeah," Yoongi answers. "I gave it a quick check. They are willing to pay us twice the money we earn in two months at the gallery. That sounds pretty good. But I want to call Taekwoon, first. Maybe he can come next week to check the contract before we make a decision." 

"Good idea," Jungkook agrees. 

“Why are we here, anyway?” Yoongi asks while scrolling down his contacts. 

"I need to pick something up from the office. Do you want to go to grab something for lunch? I am starving and in the mood for Thai food.” 

“Can I pick the restaurant?” 

Jungkook chuckles. “Sure.” 

He leaves Yoongi in the entrance as he makes his way to the office. It was Yoongi's idea to have the office behind a hidden door. More like an office is more like storage. They keep there all the photographs and paintings. Theirs and their artists. But Jungkook didn’t find what he was looking for there. So, he returns to his friend. 

“Hey, Yoongs. Do you know where is the portfolio of my trip to Machu Picchu? I don't find it and I want to use some pictures in the next exhibition…" 

Jungkook stops on his tracks and a gasp falls from his lips. 

"Zoe…" 

She is there, Jungkook's ex, standing in front of him with a very awkward Yoongi. 

"What are you doing here?" He manages to ask after staring at her for a couple of awkward minutes.

"I came to see you,” she says and the sound of her voice moves something inside his chest. 

"You can stand,” he blurts. 

"Yeah,” she laughs, embarrassed. “We have a lot to talk about." 

Jungkook's face turns to Yoongi. "Go," his friend says. "I'll wait at your apartment and I'm still picking the food." 

Twenty minutes later, they are both in one of the cafes near the gallery. 

Jungkook shifts awkwardly on his seat. 

“So, about what you wanted to talk about?”  

"Well, I don't know where to start." Zoe takes a sip of her latte nervously. 

And that is what sets him off.

“Since when can you walk?” He tries so hard not to sound mad but that is an impossible task. All the anger that he has been holding back for a year is finally pouring off of him. 

"Two weeks after the accident, I started to feel the tip of my toes. After a month, I could feel my legs completely. After a lot of physical therapy, I finally can walk without any type of help." 

Her face lights up at the memory and Jungkook doesn't know if he feels relieved or still angry. Maybe a little bit of both. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" He deadpans. "Picking up the phone was really that hard?” 

Zoe gulps at that. “I wanted to reach you, but I was not in a good place. I was dealing with a lot and my body was getting used to the medication again…” 

“A text would have been enough... “ he counters attacks. “Do you even realize how I lived the next months? How hard was it? I know is nowhere near what you have been through, but living with the guilt… almost broke me." 

At this point, tears are running down Zoe's cheeks and his heart clenches. 

"I know I'm late, but I am so sorry." She reaches out to grab his hand. He stiffens but doesn't pull away. "Jungkook, the accident was not your fault." Somehow, those words managed to lift some weight off Jungkook’s heart. He didn’t realize how much he needed to hear those words until now. Especially from her. It is like he can breathe properly again. “I know what I said. I regretted it the moment I said those words. You didn't ruin my life… You saved me.” 

Jungkook can’t help but snort. “Saved you? How? I almost killed us!” 

A soft smile spreads across her face. “That night, I was in the middle of a crisis. I was a danger to myself and others around me. You might not understand how much you helped me that night. Despite what happened.” 

She uses one of the napkins to wipe her eyes. 

“Why didn’t you tell me? Maybe I could have done something more.”

“It was nothing personal,” Zoe replies, taking a sip of her already cold coffee. “I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder when I was 12. When I told my friends, they started to look at me weirdly. Like with pity. I couldn't bear the look in their eyes. It made me feel like there was something wrong with me. So, when I started high school, I decided to not tell anyone about it. Ever since then, only my family knew about it.” 

Jungkook nods, understanding. 

“I was feeling so good,” she continues. “In my stupidity, I stopped using the medication. I thought I didn’t need them anymore. The first month I was okay. Fine, actually. It was in the second month when the problems started. I guess it was around the time we started fighting over nonsense…” 

Jungkook finds himself squeezing her hand in comfort. Of course, he remembers those fights. But right now, they don't seem important anymore. 

“But, are you okay now?” 

She sniffs. No matter how many times she wipes her eyes, the tears keep coming. “Yeah. The medication is working. These last two months are the first time I’ve been genuinely happy in the last year.” 

A smile tugs the corner of Jungkook’s lips. “Who is he?” 

Zoe looks at him with wide eyes, “What?” 

Jungkook chuckles at the way she is looking at him. “I know you like the back of my hand. Who is he?”

Suddenly, Zoe’s cheeks turn slightly pink. “I met a guy in my support group three months ago. He is an athlete too, with an injury in recovery. We officially started dating a month ago. It's pretty new.” 

“He makes you happy?” 

“Yes," she says with a radiant smile enough to light up the entire cafe. 

"Did you tell him about it?" 

She chuckles, "Yes. I'm not going to make the same mistake again."

“Good. I am really happy for you.” He offers her a smile. 

It is true. There is no jealousy. He really feels happy that Zoe found someone that understands her and what she's been going through. 

“Thank you,” she smiles back. “What about you?”

“Me?” Jungkook can’t hide his surprise and a smirk appears in Zoe’s lips. She still looks beautiful with puffy eyes and smudged mascara. 

"Come on. I know you too like the back of my hand. I know how your 'I'm sad because a girl' face looks like. What's up?" 

"Do you remember my neighbor? ____?" 

She nods. "She's really beautiful. What about her?"

“Well, we had one date," he confesses. 

“And? How was it?” Zoe asks excitedly and Jungkook smiles shyly. Talking about you makes his heart flutter. 

“Good. Really good, actually. I asked her to be my date at the gala.” 

“That’s so cute. So, are you two a thing now?” She coos. 

“No," he says and Zoe notices the change in his mood right away. "It is complicated."

"What happened?"

"There was a misunderstanding… I think… And you are involved.” 

Zoe chokes on her coffee. “Me? Why?” 

“She thinks I still have feelings for you and I was not much of a help either.”

"Do you still have feelings for me?" 

"No." 

"And why didn't you tell her that?" She accuses him. 

"Because I was confused when she asked me!" He exclaims. Zoe frowns and he raises a hand before she starts to speak. "We didn't talk for a year. Our relationship ended literally out of nowhere. We didn't have the time or the will to talk about it. So, I buried my feelings. At the time, they were not worth dwelling on." 

Zoe shifts on her seat. “It makes sense. I think we can both agree that we shared something magical, passionate and it didn't last that much. We never get the chance to celebrate our first anniversary." 

Jungkook chuckles, sharing the nostalgia. "Yeah. We had a lot of plans for that day." 

“Sometimes I think we were so stubborn and more in love with the idea of love rather than with each other. If the accident it would not have happened, maybe we would have broken up in the next couple of months.” 

“You think?” 

“Yeah. We need to admit we were not compatible enough,” Zoe shrugs with a smile. “Anyway. One of the reasons I contacted you, besides apologizing to you, of course…” 

“Of course.” 

She ignores him, “...is because I miss you and I want us to be friends.” 

“I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“Really?”

Jungkook throws her a bag of sugar, “What do you mean ‘really’? You know my family abandoned me a long time ago. So I made a new one: Yoongi and you. For a while, we were only the three of us and everything was fine. One night, that changed. I lost a member of my family. Again. Of course, I want you in my life.” 

“Owww, Jungkook…” She wipes fake tears. “I forgot you were such a corny.” 

He snorts. 

“I’m going to get another coffee and then you can tell me everything about her and we could come up with a plan because I didn’t raise you to be this stupid.” 

And with that, she stands up and walks towards the bar. 

Just like that, two old friends reunite. As the last months never happened. 

The next day Jungkook wakes up feeling as light as a feather. It felt nice to talk with an old friend. He feels like Seokjin, Anna and the other guys are more friends of yours than his. It feels nice to have someone else by his side besides Yoongi. Finally, he feels he can breathe properly again. After a year of living full of guilt. Now, he can finally move on with his life. He spends the morning thinking about what he should do next. 

He was looking for some of his old photos when he finds one of your sketchbooks. You must have left it here the last time you visited. He knows how important the sketchbooks are for you. They are like a window to your soul. He needs to return them. With that in mind, he takes the sketchbook and walks to your apartment. 

If things were as they used to, he would enter unannounced and straight to your room. But things are different. Now, he knocks as any normal slash civil neighbor and waits. Some minutes pass before he realizes there's no one inside. Jungkook sighs disappointed. Part of him wanted to see you again. 

"Jungkook?" Someone behind him calls his name. "What are you doing here?" 

Seokjin is standing behind him with a lot of bags of groceries.  

“Hey," he greets him. "____ forgot one of her sketchbooks at my place. I was wondering if I could leave it in her bedroom." 

Seokjin nods, “Do you mind helping me first?”

"Ah, yes," he takes a couple of bags of Seokjin's arms. 

“Thank you." 

Seokjin opens the door and Jungkook follows him inside. Seokjin places the bags in the kitchen counter and throws the keys into the table. 

“Wow, these are a lot of groceries.” 

Seokjin smiles sheepishly, “Yeah. I want to perfect some recipes.” 

“More than they already are?” 

He chuckles, “Yes. I want everything ready when I open my new restaurant?” 

“Wait a minute,” Jungkook gasps. “When did that happen?” 

He suddenly feels bad for not keeping in touch with him after the little fight he shared with you. His friend only shrugs, keeping his hands busy as he places the ingredients he is not going to use at the moment in their respective cabinet. 

“I bought a nice place downtown last week,” he confesses. “But I’ve been planning it for a while now. It seemed like the next step.” 

“Wow, congratulations!” Jungkook beams and pats Seokjin’s shoulder over the counter. 

“Thanks,” the older replies. “Actually, I may need your assistance with something.” 

“What can I do for you?”

"Someone told me you are good at video editing." 

A small blush appears on Jungkook’s cheeks, “I wouldn’t say good, but I am decent enough. What do you want to do?” 

"I figured if Gordon Ramsay can teach cooking through videos, I can show my recipes too. Will you help me?" 

"Of course." 

The elder hums and a comfortable silence fall upon them. After a while, Jungkook’s gaze shifts toward the hallway that leads to your room. Seokjin notices, even when he is busy chopping some vegetables. 

"___ is not here," he comments. 

"Oh…" Jungkook already knows that but that doesn’t mean that he feels any less disappointed. "Is she out?" 

Seokjin nods, "She went to visit her sister for the weekend. I thought she told you.” 

“Well, we are not exactly in speaking terms,” Jungkook confesses, his eyes falling to his hands. "When is she coming back?" 

"Possibly Monday after work,” Seokjin throws the vegetables he just chopped to a strainer. “What happened between you two?” 

“She didn’t tell you?” Jungkook asks surprised. 

He shrugs apologetically, “Kind of. But every story has two versions." 

At that, he stays quiet. Seokjin doesn't push him to talk, which Jungkook is thankful for. The elder keeps doing his magic in the kitchen and soon it starts to smell really good. 

“A year ago,” Jungkook starts. “I was in a car accident with my former girlfriend. I was driving. She was the most affected. She had several injuries. She blamed me for everything and I accepted that blame. We didn’t talk or saw each other for a while until she contacted me the night of the gala. She wanted to talk. ___ saw it. We had a little… argument about it.” 

“What happened?” 

Jungkook's face return to look at his friend.

"That night was our first date. I was so excited and nervous. I have never felt like that about someone before. The date went pretty well. Until she saw the text." 

He can still see your face. Trying so desperately not to cry but failing nonetheless. It has been printed behind his eyelids. 

“She told me that we couldn’t be together until I figured my feelings for my ex. She started to ask questions I couldn’t answer at the moment. I’ve been confused for a long time and denied it for a while.” Jungkook groans and buries his face inside his hands. "I think I ruined everything with her." 

“No, you didn’t.” Jungkook raises to meet Seokjin’s gaze. "Is valid to have unresolved feelings when your relationship ended abruptly. Especially after a tragedy. You didn't get closure."

"You didn't see her face." Jungkook chuckles dryly when a shot of tequila appears in front of him. It reminds him of when things were less complicated. 

"She is hiding." 

"Why?" 

Seokjin shrugs, "You know her. Her heart is bigger than her body. She is the type to help strangers when they are at their lowest. She is that selfless."

Jungkook blushes at that. He still feels bad at the way he treated you those first days. 

“But when it comes to romantic feelings… She is scared."

"Why?" Jungkook finds himself asking. You never told him about his past relationships and he never asked.

"Someone broke her heart," Seokjin confesses with a sad smile. "It took her some time to recover from that." 

"What happened?" He whispers. 

"Well…"

Three years ago. 

"So, when is the opening night?" You asked Seokjin over the phone. You searched inside your handbag for your key. 

"Next week," he replied and then groaned. "I still haven't found the perfect hostess." 

"Jinnie, everything is going to be fine. You are an amazing chef. Everyone in the city is going to love your food,” you tried to calm him. “You’ll find the perfect hostess before you know it.”

"Thank you," he replied gratefully, "You are coming, right?" 

You tsked, "Of course." 

You opened your front door and placed the keys over the small table near the entrance. You made your way towards the kitchen. 

"Are you going to bring some of your stuff? Anna brought some boxes the last time she visited and she is going to move in next month. I found this cute apartment. It is kind of expensive, but considering we're four…" 

"Yeah, about that…" 

"You haven't spoken with Jimin, have you?" He interjected before you could continue. It was impressive how well he could read you even when he was a mile away. 

"I will! Is just… Everything is moving so quickly. You moved to the city 6 months ago and you are going to open your restaurant in a week. Anna found a good job. What if I don't get the internship?" 

You finally voiced your worries. 

"You will," he assured you. "You are really talented. And if they don’t, there are other companies you can apply for." 

"I know. Thank you, Jin. I really needed to hear that today," you said as you took your bag from the counter and walk to the mini-studio. "I promise I'll talk to Jimin and of course I will be on your opening night." 

"Sounds good!" He chimed. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay? I left something in the oven." 

And he hung up before you could say goodbye. You chuckled and placed your phone over your desk. With a sigh, you took your sketchbook out of your bag and opened it. You meant to work on your designs to finish your portfolio but your stomach suddenly growled. 

"Jimin! Do you want to grab dinner?" 

When it became apparent you were not going to get a reply, you left the studio and went to the bedroom. Till then, you didn't realize how quiet the apartment was. You frowned. You were 90% sure Jimin's car was at the parking lot. But then again, one of your neighbors had the same car. 

The bedroom door was half-opened and you heard the faint sound of the shower. Entering the room, you were about to scroll through Uber Eats when you noticed someone lying on your bed and it was not Jimin. 

"Hmmm, Who are you, and why are you lying in my bed?" The blond girl staring at you looked… worried. She opened her mouth but got interrupted by the sound of the bathroom door opening. 

"Hey babe," Jimin murmured, a towel around his waist. "I think you should go. My girlfriend will arrive soon…" He stopped the moment he saw you, standing there, in your shared bedroom.

Every word felt like a dagger. Your suspicions were confirmed. Your boyfriend was cheating on you. You wanted to cry, scream, throw stuff, destroy everything around you. But you were frozen in the same spot, unable to do anything your aching heart craved to. 

Maybe it was a dream. Yes. You were still sleeping and this was a nightmare. Your mind couldn't wrap around the fact of Jimin –your sweet and lovely Jimin– doing such thing as betray you. 

The sound of your name brought you back to the painful reality. You gathered all the courage you could to look at him. 

"What it this, Jimin?" You managed to whisper. 

It was a dumb question to ask when the answer was right in front of you, but a part of you wanted to be a misunderstanding, still hoping this was a sick joke. 

Jimin, the man you fell in love with, was looking at you with so much sadness that it made you sob. 

"Please let me explain. I never meant to hurt you. You were not supposed to know like this." 

What was he talking about? 

"Know what? That you were cheating on me?" You said. "Is this the first time?" 

"I wish I could say yes." 

What?

Involuntarily, your eyes turned to the woman you found in your bed. At least she was dressed now, a pretty sundress hugging her body. You gulped. Did he found her prettier than you? At that moment, when you were using a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans, you definitely felt she was prettier than you. You hated to feel this way. 

"Why?" You finally found the courage to ask him. 

"Don't pretend you haven't felt how we've drifted apart."

Oh, you noticed. He had been weird the last couple of months. At first, you thought it was because of school. He gets really moody when it comes to exams. But he graduated and things were the same. There was less communication. He used to be your best friend… And now was like you lived with a stranger with whom you happened to have sex occasionally. 

You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, but you didn’t want to push Jimin in to talk about something he was not ready to share. Who would know that something was him cheating on you? 

“Is that enough reason?”

“My parents are getting divorced,” he confessed then, taking slow steps into your direction. Your whole body tensed. The last thing you needed was him to get closer. “My father started to drink again.” You opened your mouth to say something but Jimin raised a hand. “No, please. Let me finish.” You pursed your lips and let him continue. “I didn’t want to bother you with my problems. You were busy working at the cafe or working with your designs… They were not yours to handle, so I didn't tell you anything. Then, I met Hannah at one of my lectures. We clicked right away. I invited her for a coffee one day and it was like I could tell her anything." 

"And you fell in love with her," you finished for him. You felt hot tears running down your cheeks. You couldn't hold them anymore. 

"___, you need to understand…" he took another step closer. “I never meant to hurt you.”

"Well, you definitely did a great job. Why didn't you tell me when you realized that you had feelings for another woman?" You confronted him. By the look on his face, you guessed that was not a question he was expecting. Wiping your tears with the back of your hand, you looked at him expectantly. 

“I-I tried… But I couldn’t find the right time…” 

He was close enough to take your hands in his. You tried to pull away but he didn’t let you. “Really? In the six months, you’ve known her, you couldn’t mention something?”

“How am I supposed to tell the person who used to be the most important to me that I may have feelings for another woman?”

If you were not feeling like your whole world is crumbling down, you probably should’ve noticed the desolated expression in Jimin’s face. 

“You are talking in past tense…” you murmured. “Why didn’t you tell me?” you repeated. 

Fresh tears fall down cheeks. You closed your eyes. Suddenly, something warm pressed against your skin. Jimin’s fingers. Your eyes slowly fluttered open. Fixed on his face, it was the first time you realized they were tears on his cheeks. Jimin was crying too. A pair of strong arms encircled your body and pushed you against him. You resisted at first, but he was holding you with so much force. Being between his arms for the last time was the last thing you could handle and you found yourself hugging him back tightly. Three years of your life were slipping between your fingers like water and there was nothing you could do about it. 

It was over… 

“I’m sorry, ___,” he chanted against your hair. “I am so sorry…” 

That night, you drove all the way to the city and never looked back. 

When Seokjin finishes the story, Jungkook is speechless. 

His heart aches for you, for what happened to you. 

“She was broken. It took her a while to recover. She is strong. She just needs some time.”

“I just miss her a lot…” 

“I know.”

His friend offers him a smile and continues with his handiwork in the kitchen. 

Jungkook stays silent in the next 20 minutes, lost inside his mind. It takes him some time to take everything in. Now, he understands why you reacted the way you did and wishes he handled the situation better. His trail of thought is interrupted when Seokjin places a bowl of homemade noodles in front of him. It smells delicious. 

“Eat up. I want your opinion.”

“Thank you.” 

The sound of a door being opened catches his attention and Anna appears in the hallway. 

“Oh, Kook. You are here,” she greets him. “I haven’t seen you in a while. How are you?” She sits in the stool beside him and squeezes his shoulder affectionately.

“Good. How about you?” 

“Full of work but I smell Jinnie’s special noddles and I realized I was starving,” she was and takes a mouthful of noddles. 

“Where can I leave ____’s sketchbook?”

“You can leave it at the studio. I’ll tell her you left it there,” Anna says. 

Jungkook nods. 

The rest of the meal, they talk about random stuff. Jungkook tells them the news about his possible new partnership with a museum and Seokjin talks more about the plans he has for his new restaurant. Soon, the moon sets and Jungkook is full of deserts. Before leaving, he walks to the studio and places the sketchbook on your desk. He takes a blank sheet from Anna’s desk and a pen and he starts writing: 

Dear ___…

"So, in conclusion, you ran away because you are scared," she murmurs softly. 

“Did you even heard what I just said?” 

“I did and you are an idiot,” she stands from the couch and walks to the kitchen. “Do you want more ice cream?”

“Yeah.” You follow after her. “Do you really think I am an idiot for leaving him there?” 

“Yes, I do.” She notices your panic. “Look. I know you are afraid. But this is not the same situation. The story isn’t repeating.” 

She serves two more balls of chocolate ice cream into the bowls. 

"I don’t want to live that hell of self-hatred again. It took me a while to understand it was not because of me and even more to realize Jimin and I were not meant to be. So yeah, I ran. I thought Jungkook would have chosen his ex if he needed to choose. They have a long story." 

She squeezes your hand, "And you removed yourself from the equation so he wouldn’t have to choose." You nod. “That’s why I think you are an idiot.”

“Hey!” 

“I’m serious. He can choose you. There is a possibility. But you decided to run instead to fight for him.” 

She takes the bowls and returns to the living room. Then, she turns Netflix off. You stopped paying attention to the movie anyway. You lay down and place your head on her lap with your bowl of ice cream over your stomach. You feel so tired. 

"Let’s get this clear. For what you have told me, it looks like he likes you a lot. You were his muse at the gala!" She starts to pet your hair softly, "Listen. I know it hurts. Sometimes, you just need to take the risk. You can't hide here forever. Whatever that happens, you'll be fine. You have me and your friends." 

You shift your body to face her, "Thank you. I really needed to hear that."

She grins, "What is family for?"

You stayed with your sister the whole weekend, eating tons and tons of ice cream and watching tons and tons of movies. It was soothing and calming. It helped you get your mind off the situation. And it gave you time to think. 

You were back at your apartment morning-evening after work. You are finishing unpacking when Seokjin enters your room. 

“How it went?” He sits at the end of your mattress. 

“Pretty good! I missed my sister a lot.” 

“Maybe you should visit her more often,” he jokes. 

You giggle, "She told me the same thing. How was your weekend?" 

Now that all your clothes are scattered all over your bed, you throw all the dirty ones into your laundry basket. 

"Good. I tried a new noodle recipe... and Jungkook came looking for you." 

He is playing with one of your jeans, folding and unfolding them. 

You drop what you are doing immediately, "Really? What did he want?" 

You try to keep a serene face but on the inside, you were going crazy. The tiny smile on Seokjin’s lips only confirms that you are not very good at hiding your emotions. You’ve lost your touch. 

"He brought your sketchbook back," Seokjin says. "Apparently, you left it at his place. It is at your desk." 

"Oh… Thank you." 

"I’ll have dinner ready in 20 minutes." Seokjin smiles sweetly and walks out of your room. 

You finish unpacking and tidying everything up before going to the studio. You left Jungkook’s place in such a rush that you forgot that your sketchbook was even at his place. You run your fingers over the leather cover. It is one of the fewest sketchbooks that you own that doesn’t have anything to do with your work or designs. It is more like a journal were you draw anything that came to your mind. Flipping through the pages, you remember that one time when Jungkook took you to his favorite park. According to him, the sunset looked majestic from there and he wanted to take some snaps. You were supposed to draw it but Jungkook's beauty was more enticing and you end up drawing him. 

You keep going through the pages for a while. The sketchbook is full of memories of him… of memories of your times together. There is this one, where you draw the two of you.  But before you arrive at that page, you receive a call from Anna. Dinner is ready. With a smile, you place your sketchbook with the others you’ve finished in the box under your desk unaware of the fact that there is a letter Jungkook wrote for you. 

One year later. 

It is Monday morning and you are at your office. It is surprising how much work can accumulate in one weekend. The workload helps you to ignore the curious glances Taehyung sends your way since you arrived at the office. It becomes pretty annoying at the meeting you both attend to check some details about the newest collection before sending it for approval. 

Around 11 am, you go to the coffee station to make yourself some tea. Taehyung is there, too, taking some coffee. And there’s the stare again. “Some say a picture lasts longer.” 

He chokes on his coffee. You take your favorite mug from the countertop and purr hot water. Today is chamomile day. 

"Are you okay?" You ask him. He nods like he has not been acting weirdly all morning. 

"Yeah. I am okay." He leaves his now empty cup in the sink. "Do you, by any chance, have received any texts or calls today?"

"From someone in particular?" 

"You know what? Forget it. I'll see you at lunch." 

And he walks out of the coffee station before you could ask him what he meant. 

Yep. He is definitely acting really weird. 

The rest of the morning passes quickly and you don't have the opportunity to confront Taehyung about his weird behavior. He is hiding something. That much is true.

Exactly one hour before lunch, your phone buzzes, and for a split second your heart rate increases until you see the caller ID. It is your sister. 

"Hello?" 

"Hey, stranger!" she chimes. "How are you?" 

"I'm fine! A little busy. And you?" 

"Good! At what time you leave your office?" 

"At 5PM. Why?" 

"I have a surprise for you: I am in the city! So, I was wondering if you want to have dinner with me today." 

"Wait, is everything okay?" You sit straight. If something is wrong, she would have told you, right?

"Yeah, silly. Don't worry. I came to buy some stuff and, of course, visit you. So, do you want to go to dinner or what?" 

You giggle, relieved. "Sure." You start to think of possible choices. It is the third time your sister comes to the city. You want to take her to somewhere special. "Do you want to go to Seokjin's new restaurant?" 

"That sounds perfect." 

"Good. Let me text you the address." 

You put the phone on speaker to find the message with the address Seokjin sent to you a while ago. You know how to arrive there but you don't remember the street name. 

You do small talk with your sister as you do your search, but your Skype goes crazy out of nowhere.

"Hey," you interject between her story. "I will text you the address later. My boss is looking for me." 

"Ok. Don't worry. I'll see you tonight." 

You arrive at 7:15pm at Seokjin's restaurant. 

In less than 6 months, the restaurant is now one of the most exclusive restaurants and one of the best places to eat. That's why the place is at full capacity for Monday night and there are even more people outside waiting for a table or place at the bar. 

Tonight Seokjin is the host. He receives you with a heartwarming smile. 

"Your usual table?" he asks. 

“Yes, please.” 

He nods, “You are lucky you know the owner,” he adds with a smirk and you roll your eyes.  

“Thanks, Jinnie.” 

You walk through the restaurant. The table you like the most is located in one of the corners, near the kitchen. It is kind of hidden but you can see the whole restaurant from there. You’ve spent hours and hours there sketching the people that come by. 

Your eyes scan the menu as you wait for your sister's arrival. Jin adds new recipes to the menu every once in a while. 

"Does this sit is taken?" 

You raise your head to look at the newcomer and you do not expect what you see...

"Jungkook?" 

For a split second, you think you might be hallucinating. But no. He is really there. It is the first time you see him in a year. He smiles sheepishly and you remember that there's a question you haven't answered yet… 

"I'm waiting for my sister…" 

And then, it clicks. 

Do you, by any chance, have received any texts or calls today?

"You planned this with my sister," his smile widening is your confirmation. "But, you don't know her. How?" 

"We have a mutual friend." 

"Taehyung and Seokjin knew about this," you accuse. 

Jungkook nods, "The guys helped me to plan this. So, can I sit?" 

"Yeah, I guess," you reply. "Is my sister even in the city?" 

"Yes. She is waiting for you with Anna at your place." 

You don’t know how to reply to that, so you stay silent. You take the opportunity to look at him. He looks… different. His hair is longer. He is wearing a plain grey shirt, jeans, and a leather jacket that fits him so well. He gained weight. The sharpness of his face is gone. His lips look more full in the way they stretch into a smirk. There’s a spark shining on his eyes. He knows you are checking him out. 

You clear your throat. 

"So, why did you take so much trouble when you just could have called me yourself?" 

Jungkook shrugs, "I thought you wouldn't have come if I was the one who contacted you." 

Before you could reply, one of the waitresses approaches the table. 

"Are you ready to order?"

Jungkook gazes at the menu, "I'll have the Special Noodles, please." 

She nods and turns to you, "And you, ___? The usual?" 

"Yes. Thank you, Eli," you reply with a smile. 

"Right away," she says and walks to the kitchen. 

Once she is gone, the heavy atmosphere around you returns. 

"Did you broke your phone?" You finally ask him the question you were dying to since he appeared.

"I know. I'm so sorry" he takes your hand in his. It feels so good to feel his warmth again. "You don't know how much I wanted to call. Or even go to your place to see you in person. But I made a promise to myself: I wouldn't contact you until I was in peace with myself." 

It is selfish to feel this way. You know it. He did the right thing, but a part of you resents him. He disappeared. For one year, you didn’t know anything about him. Now, he appears out of nowhere and expects you’d receive him with open arms. 

“Jungkook, why am I here?" 

He seems confused, "What do you mean? I wanted to talk to you." 

"About what?" 

"About us?" 

"Is there really an 'us' to talk about?" 

"What?" 

You shift in your seat. “You left without saying goodbye. With no type of explanation.” 

He shakes his head, “What do you mean? I left the letter. Did you not read it?”

You frown, more confused by the minute. “What letter?” 

“The one that I hid in your sketchbook. Do you really don’t know what am I talking about?” You shrug. “Well, that explains a lot,” he chuckles awkwardly. 

“So, what was in that letter?” 

He smiles over his glass of water. “It explained why I left, why I did it, and what happened with Zoe.” 

“Yeah, about that… What happened? Because all this time I thought you ran away with her.” 

A smirk appeared on his lips. It is not the type you like. It is the smug one. It makes you want to smack him on his pretty face. 

“We talked. We resolved things. We stayed as friends,” he replies nonchalantly. 

“G-good,” you manage to say and his smile widens. “Where were you staying, anyway?” 

“I stayed a while with Yoongi and little with Zoe and her boyfriend. He is really cool.” 

“That bastard!” you yelled and sank in your seat when a few customers turned to look at you. “When I asked him if he knew where did you go, he lied.”

Jungkook smiles apologetically, “He promised not to tell you.” 

“Yeah, whatever,” you huff, a little annoyed at Yoongi. He is going to hear you out the next time you see him. “You could have texted me or something. Do you know how much time is one year? That means I spent 365 days wondering if I would ever see you again." Jungkook opens his mouth but you raise your hand, "Please, let me finish." 

He nods. 

"One year is enough to meet new people…" You finish what you wanted to say. 

Jungkook's smile falters, eyes widening, "Ohhhh… Does that mean you met someone?" 

"I had a couple of dates," you confess, watching carefully his reaction. "But the two of them went really wrong."

His face illuminates at your words, "Why?" 

"Because they were not you, idiot!" 

He starts to laugh at your outburst. Wow, you forgot how much you liked his smile. His eyes turn into beautiful crescendos and his nose scrunched. His laugh is contagious you start to laugh back. 

"I'm really glad to hear that." 

A comfortable silence falls between you two. At the same time, Eli arrives with the order. 

“Oh my god,” Jungkook moans after his first bite. “They are better than the last ones I ate.” 

“Well, Seokjin had a year to perfect the recipe,” you mock. 

While you eat, you talk about random stuff: how the recent partnership with a museum went; the brand new collection you and Taehyung are designing from scratch. Stuff like that. It almost feels like time hasn’t passed at all. 

“So, you didn’t answer my question,” you say once you have ordered the desert. 

He takes a sip of his water. “What question?” 

“Why am I here?”

“Oh, I wanted to see you and talk to you,” he says, suddenly shy. “I know you didn’t read the letter I left for you. But I want to explain to you, in person, why I left…” 

It doesn’t make sense. How can someone who looks as good as Jungkook does can be shy?

“Go on.”

“I know it was selfish to leave. But I needed to do it. I was not myself when we met. I was lost. Even when you helped me to raise my feet again, I was not entirely okay. I left because I didn’t want to be emotionally codependent of you. If we are together, is because we want to, not because we need each other to survive. The time I spent away helped me to rediscover myself. Now, I am more me than I have ever been. I hope you will give me another chance.” 

His beautiful words make your heart flutter. He is looking at you with so much intensity and hopes that you feel bad for being cold with him for the past hour. You stay silent for a moment, though. You suppress the smile that tugs the corner of your lips. Maybe you enjoy a little bit much the way his expression turns in panic. 

“Well,” you finally speak up. His shoulders tense in anticipation. “Taehyung and I have an important dinner next week. Some important designers are coming to see our collection. Taehyung is taking his girlfriend. So… Would you like to come with me? You know… As my date?”

The end. ♡

[withoneheadlight]

| a house (is a home) | (i). the keys | (ii). memories&herons | (iii). old dogs&inheritances | tinyplaylist |

~

They have a business now, Robin and Steve.

He’d been back in Hawkins for less than two months, crashing on Robin’s apartment, when she shook his freaking-out ass around into semi-conscientiousness at four in the goddamn morning.

“Could you please stop screaming? I’ve just had the greatest, most― life-changing. Idea”

“Let your best friend live a long, non-terrified life instead of giving him a stroke while he's sleeping?”

“Dingus. This is serious”

“As so it’s not-dying”

She rolled her eyes and then jumped into rambling, right then and there, about how they were going to ball-n’-chain their sorry, broke souls to a mortgage and open a family restaurant.

And well, yeah, not worth dying over but. Yeah.

Pretty life-changing, turns out.

So now the old, forgettable family dinner on Randolph Lane where Steve used to go for a milkshake with “Every single one of my High School girlfriends. Seriously Robin. Nobody wants to come back here, it’s like a museum” is “Oh, and that’s exactly how we’re gonna keep it” an ode to the eighties (And, in Robin’s own words “And a very tasteful one”), with its painted flaming tracks on the floor, its handmade replica of the Inferno (courtesy of Hopper and Joyce and Will’s and ―slightly reluctantly― El’s newfound family-bounding passion for miniaturism). With its fake weapons and horror masks and thrifted posters and a hundred other pieces of memorabilia. Cher’s voice rasping around the notes of “If I could turn back time” on the jukebox at least twice on any given day. The not-so-kids-anymore relaxing on one of the booths at the front, laughing and joking and reassuring Steve about how this was—yeah. Yeah. (even if he won’t ever, ever recognize to Robin) the greatest fucking idea.

It’s been five years (And one-hundred miles out. One-hundred miles back) when Billy steps inside the dinner fifteen minutes before closing hours one late September afternoon. Sun so low on the horizon half-hidden behind the line of sparse buildings that it’s almost grazing the night. And it’s not the first time they’ve seen each other since Steve came back. They’ve already said their awkward ‘Hello’s, their (heartbreaking) ‘I'll see you around’ s.

But today, that weary sun’s slicing reality into pieces with its golden light, and Billy's wearing a soft-blue, worn denim jacket, pendant sitting on his chest, curls long, long, long and ringed by fire. And Steve feels as if, when it comes to Billy Hargrove, he’s no different than one of those stones they'd tried to kill time with, at the beginning of that summer, bouncing them across the quarry’s water. No matter how long it takes, every time, or how far the stone will make it. It’ll eventually fall, seeking the kiss of the surface, as if it knows It’ll sink back, at the end. Will return. As if it’s been aware, right from the very beginning. Of the inevitability. Of its belonging.

Because Billy looks like that almost-night of their first kiss, in the middle of that summer. That almost-night when he said "I want you, Steve Harrington. No matter where you go, I’ll always want you" so close to the end. That almost-night when Steve got in his car, leaves already falling. Stuffed it a whole ton heavier (Bright red vinyl suitcase. Green plastic bags squashed at its sides. The weight of what he was about to do trying to catch his eye through the rearview mirror). Drove it to the end of the woods. To the other side of the welcoming sign. Headed out of Hawkins. Out of Indiana. Out. Out. Just to find the Camaro parked on the side. Billy waiting for him. Fists buried into the pockets of that denim jacket. Cigarette consuming itself into a fresh burn between those lips Steve wouldn’t be kissing into healing in the morning.

He parked the BMW right behind. Must have felt like a sing. But back then, it didn’t.

“Billy? What are you―?”

(It wasn’t until after. Hundreds of miles away. Hundreds of miles following the yellow highway lines in the wrong direction. That he realized―)

“What, King of Hawkins? You really thought I was gonna let you leave without one last kiss goodbye?”

(―I should’ve run to you. Run to you.

But instead I ran away from everything else, and I lost you.)

Billy heaved off the Camaro. Walked up to Steve until he could feel the warmth coming off his skin as rebellion against the cold nightfall “I don’t want you to forget about me” Warmer. Warmer than any sun “About us”

Steve huffed out a laugh. A ragged, pained laugh. Sometimes the body doesn’t know, they say. What to do. How to react. So he laughed. And it hurt. Not just a feeling but a ton worth of them, in that laugh. I don’t want to go. But I have to. I want you to come with me. But I know I can’t ask.

Even If we hadn’t ever kissed, I wouldn’t have been able to forget you, Billy Hargrove.

(Even when I got away, I kept on chasing you. Got lost running around in circles trying to find you)

When the laugh faded, Billy was smiling, and Steve knew it was a reflection. Crooked and painful: he didn’t know, back then, Steve was afraid one last kiss would make him sink. Rolling stones getting him stranded.

(Steve didn’t know, back then, how stranded he already was)

“Didn’t want to make it harder”

Billy― took him by the waist. Tugged him in and. Steve’s breath caught.

“Don’t know about you, pretty boy but. For me, there’s no way for this to make harder” Billy’s nose bumped against his, their lips brushing, a permanent burn splitting Steve’s life in two, all the kisses he was leaving behind, the last day of summer fading behind the dark treeline “And I’m gonna kiss you now, so it is worth it”

And then Billy smiled at him. No with hurt, but for real. Bright eyes and cold-red lips and he was right. One last kiss. Was worth it. Couldn’t ever make it harder than already was.

Billy was already an open wound. And Steve could never close it.

(‘Cause. It happened there, in the middle of the road. In the middle of running away or staying. Steve knew. Bleed it out as they kissed. I’ve fallen and fallen and fallen. I’ve fallen in love with you.

But he was leaving. Leaving it all on the other side of that sign)

“I’m gonna be a good friend, and remind you to play it cool, Steven” Robin tiptoes to his ear. Whispers “So, play it cool. You’re staring”

“Wh― What?”

“You’re drooling, Dingus. Stop. Looking at him”

Billy nods him a hello. Goes. To him. Tina and Caleb barely spare him a glance. The few late-afternoon regulars too absorbed into stretching the last few sips of their pre-night-shift coffees or finishing their Outtatime specials to pay any attention to them. And spoons click and stools drag and nobody seems to realize Steve’s both here and five years back, Billy’s presence eating up all the space of the Dinner. And his curls smelled of sunscreen, the overheated leather seats of the Camaro, the fallen leaves of eucalyptus, as they laid together on the shore of the quarry at night. The water as sleepless as they were. Turbulent. Restless with life.

“Steve?”

“Hey. Hey. Hi!― I”

It’s not easy but, Steve moves. Rushes into the back room. Breathes in shallow. Broken gulps. Lungs full. Won’t let him get any air. Crammed with goodbye kisses before welcoming signs.

It’s the sun, he thinks, it’s the fucking sun. Carrying him back. Overlaying the past upon the here and now but that’s a lie. That’s a lie: a long time ago, Steve Harrington made a home for Billy Hargrove on the inside of his heart. And it's still there. Vacant. Unoccupied. Billy Hargrove-shaped. Waiting. Longing. Hoping for him to come back.

(I wanna run to you. Run to you)

(Wanna run back)

“Steve. Are you alright?”

Robin's hand caresses his back. Steve feels it stiff under a touch so tender. He’s so close to breaking in half.

“Steve?”

“Fuck. Robin. Fuck”

His voice’s shaking. His whole body’s shaking from the inside out.

“Maybe–” she starts, pauses. She’s so careful. Steve closes his eyes “Why don’t you go back and talk to him. This– acting like you don’t want to is. Is not gonna go right”

Is not. Is not even the worst he’s felt. Five years. He’s had time to regret but.

It's a risk, and he doesn’t want to. Play with Billy’s heart. Break it again. Or know, maybe. That it wouldn’t. That’s Steve’s no longer there. It's shaped like home for himself anymore. Close and sold and forgotten. That Billy’s moved. On and Away. Steve’s so afraid. Of never getting him back. Of being this selfish. He needs. Needs―

He says it out loud.

“I can’t do that to him” needs Robing to tell him it’s ok. Or not ok or “Again. Can’t do it again” just that’s― ok. If he can’t help it. Want it. Been the egoistic asshole who took and took and took, even though he already knew he was leaving, knew it was bound to end right from the start.

Needs to know because―

The light’s the same. The color of Billy’s eyes the exact shade of clear-blue the sky wore throughout all that summer’s days. Lashes falling dark and heavy as those nights. And Steve wants to take the hand their story’s offering. Step with him into this late-afternoon light. Better sorry than safe. He’s got a home in his chest nobody else fits into, anyway. Spent a whole summer trying to carve himself inside of Billy with lips and greedy hands. Would do it again.

Needs Robin to tell him what’s right.

“Maybe he wants you to”

Needs Billy to know he wouldn't run away, this time.

“How would he want that?”

Needs and needs and needs and―

Robing shrugs. Her cherry-red lips crinkle out, corners round, they hold a smile. There’s love in there and Steve clings to it as in the midst of the tempest. And. He’s such a fucking asshole. Already got so many things back, but,

“I just. Got the feeling he does. You know, Dingus, you might’ve not been around but, I have and I” she brings her hand up. Cards it through his hair “Don’t think there’s any version of this story where he wouldn’t” and her voice is firm and her touch is soft and Steve’s been seeking for absolution since the day he came back “Ok, there. Magic’s on. I’ll close this. Now run”

And it’s selfish. And wrong. A he shouldn't but. Steve’s mortally wounded. He’s got a Billy Hargrove-shaped hole instead of a heart. Has been going around in circles for so long, trying to find his way back. And Robin’s looking at him like she knows. Like she understands.

Like she believes he’s gonna stay, this time. So.

He runs.

He runs.

~

next

[world-of-puppets]

Puppetry Lost Media

In honour of reaching 50 followers last week (now 55 followers, as of writing this) I decided to cover two subjects of great interest to me: puppetry (of course) and lost media.

Everybody online loves a good old bit of lost media. Whether it be being a part of the many searches for the media in question, or watching documentaries about them on sites like YouTube. I’ve been mildly addicted to the latter kind of content for a while. From what I’ve seen, though, there aren’t many videos or articles out there specifically covering lost puppetry. So, in no particular order, here are a couple of pieces of lost puppetry I found while scrolling through the lost media wiki.

銀河少年隊 - Ginga shounen-tai AKA Galaxy Boy Troop (1963 - 1965)

Osamu Tezuka is one of the most pioneering figures in Japanese art and animation. Starting as a manga artist in the 1940s inspired by the animated works of American studios such as Walt Disney and the Fliecer Brothers, he adapted and simplified many of the stylistic techniques of both artists to create his own signature style of big shiny eyes, physics defying hair and limited animation. A style that would go on to heavily influence the world of anime and manga as a whole.

But animation and graphic art were not the only mediums Tezuka would dabble in. Ginga Shounen-Tai, or Galaxy Boy Troop in english, was a television series that aired on the public broadcast channel NHK from April 7th, 1963 to April 1st, 1965. Running for 2 seasons with a total of 92 episodes.

The series was a mixture of marionette characters that utilised the Supermarionation marionette technique, popularised by Jerry Anderson’s Thunderbirds, and limited traditional animation. The story revolves around a child genius named Roy who leads a rag-tag group of heros around the galaxy in a rocket ship in order to revive the earth’s sun and later protect it from alien invaders.

Out of the 92 episodes that aired, only episode 67 still exists in its entirety with French subtitles, and the full episode can be found on YouTube with English subtitles uploaded by user Rare TezukaVids. According to user F-Man on the Tezuka in English forums, footage of episode 28 exists but with no audio, and episode 87’s animated segments exist without the marionette segments. F-Man also claims the reason for Galaxy Boy Troop’s disappearance is due to Tezuka not being proud of the series and having all episodes of it destroyed.

Personally, I think it’s a shame that pretty much all of this series is gone. From what I’ve seen in episode 67, it looks really charming. Tezuka’s signature character design style was adapted suprisingly well to marionettes, and the puppetry itself isn’t that bad either. I love the little face mechanisms like the blinking eyes, flapping mouths and others. It gives the puppets a lot of personality and charm. Like, just look at this old mans eyebrow mechanism and tell me you wouldn’t want to watch 92 episodes of this show;

Tinseltown (2007)

Tinseltown was a 15 minute sitcom pilot created by the Jim Henson company under thier Henson Alternative banner. The pilot was commissioned by the Logo Network and aired as part of the Alien Boot Camp programming block in 2007.

The pilot (and likely the series, had it been picked up by the logo network) features a cast of both puppets and live actors as characters. The premise revolves around Samson Kight, an anthropomorphic bull preformed by Brian Henson and drew Massey, and his partner Bobby Vegan, an anthropomorphic pig prefomed by Bill Barretta and Michelan Sisti, as they attempt to balance thier lives working in Hollywood with life as parents to thier sullen 12-year-old foster son, Foster, played by Paul Butcher. Other human characters included Mia Sara as Samson’s ex-wife Lena and Francesco Quinn as the family’s manservant Arturo.

The Tinseltown pilot used to be available on the Logo Network’s YouTube channel, but was later removed for unknown reason. Since then, the pilot has not been made available online. However the characters Samson and Bobby have made appearances in other Henson related works, such as the improv stage show Stuffed and Unstrung, where they played the role as the shows producers, and in a 2011 video on the Jim Henson Company YouTube channel celebrating Jim Hensons 75th birthday.

I find Tinseltown pretty interesting as I feel like it should be more noateable or known, considering that this is (as far as my knowledge goes) the first Jim Henson Company project featureing openly lgbtq characters as its leads, and would have been the first Henson show to do so had it been picked up. As someone who’s interested in lgbtq+ representation in creative media such as animation, I realised that there’s not many examples of canon lgbt characters in puppetry. The only ones aside from Samson and Bobby I could think off the top of my head would be Deet’s Dads from The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance and Rod from Avenue Q. Though, obviously, there could be more I’m not currently aware of. I don’t think the Tinseltown pilot was a masterpiece or anything. After all, there’s probably a couple of good reasons Logo didn’t pick it up for a full series. But I think it be cool if either Henson co. or Logo made this available online again, if just so we could appericate it as an interesting little footnote in the history of lgbtq rep in puppetry.

With that said, considering the pilot’s obscurity and the fact that it’s main couple haven’t been used in any Henson Related projects in almost ten years, as well as the possibility that there may be legalities preventing the Henson company from releasing it such as Logo still owning the rights, it’s unlikely we’ll see the Tinseltown pilot anytime soon.

Sonic Live in Sydney (1997 - 2000)

Sonic the Hedgehog is a fictional character no stranger to multiple interpretations of him and his universe across a diverse range of media. From the more light-hearted and comedic stylings of The Adventures of Sonic the Hedgehog and Cartoon Networks Sonic Boom cartoon series, to more serious faire such as the Sonic SatAM cartoon and the Sonic Adventure videogame duology. One of the more obscure and stranger adaptations of the character came in the form of Sonic Live in Sydney, a one an a half hour live show hosted at the former Sega World Sydney amusement park in Darling Harbor, Sydney, Australia. Originally beginning as a live show with actors in meet-and-greet style costumes, the show eventually was replaced with a puppet show during its last two years.

The shows plot was set in an alternate timeline whos continuity was a mix of the SatAM cartoon and Sonic the Hedgehog 3, where Doctor Robotnik’s Death Egg crash lands in Sydney, Australia instead of Angel Island and attempts to take over before being foiled by sonic and friends. According to Phillip Einfeld of Phillip Einfeld Puppetoons, the company that made the puppets, Sega felt the costumed actor version of the show wasn’t dynamic enough, and wished to replace it with a version featuring live puppets with animatronics. Both versions of the shows plot are identical.

While Sonic Live in Sydney’s soundtrack is available on YouTube, and some photos of the show are available on the Lost Media Wiki, no footage of either the costumed actors version or the puppet show version have resurfaced. The show was closed down in 1999, possibly due to cost, shortly before the Sega World park as a whole in 2000. So unless there is someone out there who viseted the show between 1998 or 1999 who recorded the show via a handheld camera, footage of both incarnations of the show are likely forever lost to time.

On a personal note, I don’t have much to say on this one other than how gloriously peek gaudy 90s Sonic the set/puppet design is. I have no doubt finding footage of these puppets in action would truly be a silly delight to behold...

Legend of Mary (year unknown)

This one is a little different from the other entries on this list as while the film itself in its entiraty is available on YouTube for anyone to view, the information surrounding Legend of Mary, specifically its year of release, remains a mystery as of writing this.

I have mentioned the film before on this blog so I’ll keep it brief here: in summary, Legend of Mary is a short film retelling of the Nativity featuring the Rod puppets of Austrian puppeteer Richard Teschner. the video was uploaded to YouTube by user canada 150 archive. I looked up the people credited in the film and was able to find most of them, but didn’t find Legend of Mary listed in thier credits, and was unable to find the film on sites like IMDB, tMDB or Letterboxd. I reached out to Canada 150 archive asking if they had any info regarding the Legend of Mary’s release date, and after a coupe of months, they replied saying they didn’t know.

And that’s as far as I got on my search for answers, if anyone of you guys has any information regarding Legend of Mary, then it be of huge help in finding the release date.

Sam and friends (1955 - 1961)

Sam and friends was the very first puppetry television series created by Jim Henson alongside his colabarator and future wife Jane Nebel. filmed in Washington, D.C. and airing twice daily on WRC-TV and the NBC affiliate in Washington, D.C. from May 9, 1955, to December 15, Sam and Friends would mark the first apperence of Kermit (though not yet as a frog) and paved the way for Henson’s iconic and revered legacy in the realm of puppetry on film and television.

With the impact this show had in mind, it may come as a shock to some that almost half of Sam and Friends, specifically, 42 of the 86 episodes, are considered lost. With 16 existing, 8 documented, 9 known from memory, plus 8 existing Esskay commercials and 1 memory-known Esskay commercial. Some taped episodes have been shown at venues such as the museum of the moving image while others have been erased. It’s unknown if copies of these erased episodes still exist.

This post would become far to long if I were too list every episode missing from Sam and Freinds, but if your curious, the lost media wiki article has a comprehensive list of all lost episodes.

Annnd that about it for this post. This type of content is pretty different from the stuff I usually post. So I’m egar to see what you guys think about it. If you enjoyed this article, want to see more like it or have ideas for what puppetry-related topics I should cover in the future. And again, thank you all so much for helping me reach 55 followers. Your support really does mean a lot to me, and I hope you enjoyed this as a follower milestone gift.

Anyways, hope you enjoyed this dip into lost puppetry, and have a happy holiday season!