#also this is the second time hes shot a dog today (of me reading comics)

[themyscirah]

NOOOOOOOO OLLIE NOT THE DOG 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[vantaenims]

the lonely hearts club | jungkook

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: college au, friends to lovers | fluff, humor, angst

word count: 17.5k

warning/s: break ups, alcohol consumption, profanity, cheating, making out, mentions of divorce.

summary: A story of how two lost humans in the cruel world of love managed to find each other in a sea full of failed relationships, heartbreaks, and drunken karaoke nights but could they truly find the love they’re looking for through each other?

✧ fic teaser ✧

masterlist

all rights reserved © vantaenims - do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

--

Sunday Mornings are the best time of the week for eight year old Jungkook since it’s the only time he gets to wake up to both of his parents on his side, cuddling him up like they just not told him last night and many other nights that he should sleep in his own room, considering that he’s already becoming a big boy but Sundays has become an exception for that.

That is until one morning when Jungkook woke up and found himself all alone in his parent’s king sized bed. He’s trying to outgrow being a crybaby but he can’t help how tears started to prick his eyes, feeling betrayed at their absence. Without a second thought, he threw away the comforter hastily as he jumped out of the bed and went straight out of the door with loud thudding steps as the immature boy he was.

Descending the stairs, Jungkook was ready to throw a fit as soon as he saw his mother mopping the floor of their living room but he was quite dumbfounded when his father grabbed the mop off of his mother’s hand, taking her hand instead to pull her in for a dance of cha cha along to the love song playing in the background which is The Spiral Starecase’s More Today Than Yesterday.

Jungkook wiped his tear stained cheeks as he sat down on the stairs, clutching the banisters so he could insert his face in between them and thought how his mom and dad looked like they were having a lot of fun despite how awful and silly their dancing was. Nonetheless, it made Jungkook smile, that is until his mom suddenly slipped on the still wet floor. Thankfully, his dad caught her in time, making the both of them erupt in laughter at how foolish they were being.

It was a sight to see how light hearted that moment was and that was the exact time Jungkook felt the immense warmth of his parent’s love with each other, leaving him to wish that someday he’ll find a love like his parents.

And that was how Jungkook began to develop a deep sense of faith in love.

It’s the image of his mom and dad dancing to love songs every Sunday Morning that has gotten him so smitten about the idea of love and that is how he thinks he became a hopeless romantic who believes that love makes the world go round.

But it seems like the world is treating him rather unfairly and indifferent with the way he keeps on getting involved in countless failed relationships. Love turned out far from what he expected and it can’t be helped that his faith in love is starting to dwindle down but that doesn’t necessarily mean that he gives up on the idea of it yet although he sometimes asks himself.

Is love even worth a shot at this point?

Specially, when today just happened to be the day he got dumped by Cho Hee, his girlfriend or rather his ex-girlfriend for about six months which is not too long of a time but in Jungkook’s case, it’s the longest one he got into out of his previous short-lived relationships.

Break ups shouldn’t be that big of a deal for him by now as it has become some sort of a norm to him but that doesn’t mean that he’s spared from the pain. Atleast, it’s comforting to know that there’s someone who could totally empathize with his misfortunes about love and someone who suffers through the same fate as him – you.

Jungkook met you back in sophomore year when you joined the school newspaper as the new feature writer. The both of you got the chance to be closer when you were assigned to cover the university’s 75th anniversary event along with him as the photographer and that’s how he ended up always being tied with you.

Well, event coverages aren’t the only thing that made you closer because you see, failed relationships just happened to be one of your commonalities and there’s only one place that ties down two miserable beings together.

Usually, you take a break in life and embark on a soul searching trip to compensate for your heart’s misery but that seems pretty unattainable for two college students who live off of their parent’s allowance.

It’s nothing grandiose but the place is enough for the both of you to distract your minds away from all of those heartbreaks just by singing your hearts out because apparently, karaoke nights are better when you’re broken hearted.

The familiar LED signage with a word ‘Soundcheck’ on it is what flashed brightly in front of Jungkook once the doors of the elevator opened at the third floor of the building just near the campus.

“Oh Jungkook” Hyunseok, the receptionist, whom he had gotten close to by now greeted him as soon as he stepped inside the establishment. Jungkook went on to grip his hand, pulling him to give him a pat on his shoulder, “Y/N’s already here, by the way.”

“Oh is she?” Well, that’s a first, considering that you’re always late by five or ten minutes after he arrived.

“Yeah, she ordered a bucket of beer, some food, and she also told me that you’ll be paying for it” Hyunseok chuckled.

“Okay” Jungkook smiled as he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth but he nonetheless took out his wallet since he’s the one who invited you here tonight, “What room?”

“Same room as always”

Jungkook nodded, waving a salute to Hyunseok as he walked along the hallway that’s surrounded by muffled sounds coming from each room but he could easily distinguish your loud off-key singing when he rounded the corner.

Twisting the knob, Jungkook took in the sight of the dimly lit room that’s only illuminated with the electric disco ball attached to the ceiling. On the other hand, you’re totally too immersed into the song that you didn’t even notice his presence as you continue to hit the notes with your eyes closed while simultaneously jumping up and down.

Jungkook went to sit down on the black leather couch, grabbing himself a plate of french fries from the table as he continue to amusedly watch you belt out the lyrics of Don’t Stop Me Now by Queen and when the bridge of the song came, you turned around and suddenly got startled to see Jungkook already there.

“Jeon Jungkook!” you shouted into the mic, drawing the last part of his name longer like you’re some type of an announcer in a boxing match and as if it isn’t comical enough, you picked up the tambourine as you shake it vigorously, “How are you feeling tonight,  Jungkook-ssi?”

“Good” he said in a monotonous voice.

“Doesn’t sound like it” you said as dramatic as ever, shoving the mic again into his face “How are you feeling?”

Jungkook would ride on your silly antics on a normal day but he can’t keep up with your energy right now so he just sent you a small smile as he placed the plate back onto the table. Your question definitely threw off a bit of his composure and he bit his lip as he tried to keep his emotions at bay.

“Is it that bad?” you asked in all seriousness this time as you set aside the mic and tambourine to take a closer look at him.

Sighing, Jungkook threw back his head against the couch as he pinched the bridge of his nose, chuckling even to get a grip of himself.

“Oh no are you going to cry?” you didn’t even purposefully say it to mock him but he hates how it makes him cry everytime and maybe, he really never outgrew being a crybaby.

Awkwardly, you sat down beside him to pat his head but you stopped, thinking how you stupidly looked like you were petting a dog instead so you just moved your hands down to his shoulders.

Honestly speaking, you’re not the best person when it comes to comforting others but it’s questionable why Jungkook chose you to be his go-to person when you’re clearly bad at it.

“What happened?”

“Cho Hee broke up with me”, Jungkook wiped his tears with the sleeve of his sweatshirt as bitterness started to rise inside him, “Ah i can’t believe that i was right along when i said that this relationship felt so one sided.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you want to know her reason?”

“What?” you asked as you scooted closer, curious to know why.

“She said that we’re not compatible because she’s a Gemini and i’m a Virgo.”

You gauge Jungkook’s expression to see if he was joking but he said it so earnestly that you had to purse your lips as you try your best to contain your laughter but you soon gave in as Jungkook met your gaze.

“I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you, I swear”, you said in between laughs as you clutch your stomach, “but are you serious?”

“She told me that it is the reason why our relationship isn’t working”, Jungkook unlocked his phone as he read something over his screen. You can’t help but take a peek as you see that Jungkook’s reading a series of text messages from Cho Hee.

[Thursday, May 28, 8:01 AM]

Cho Hee ❤️ : Jungkook

Cho Hee❤️ : I’m breaking up with you because it looks like this relationship isn’t working and i think it’s because we’re not compatible to begin with.

Cho Hee ❤️ : A Virgo and Gemini don’t go together.

Cho Hee ❤️ : Sorry...

“Oh no, she broke up with you through text” you said, laughing even more despite Jungkook's unamused look yet he later found himself smiling along with you after he realized how it sounded more ridiculous when he said Cho Hee’s reason out loud but that still doesn’t make up for his sour mood.

“Aren’t you supposed to comfort me here?” Jungkook said, squinting his eyes at you.

“Of course but you know, you can never blame Cho Hee for being a firm astrological believer”, you bumped your shoulder against Jungkook as you calmed yourself down from your laughing frenzy.

“Well, she could’ve just told me that she didn’t love me instead of that crap”,  Jungkook reached out onto the table to get himself a bottle of beer to swig on.

“I guess, it’s time to sing our go-to break up song then”, you grabbed the remote as you pressed the song numbers in while mimicking the karaoke machine’s voice.

You stood up on your feet once you heard the guitar intro of Since U Been Gone by Kelly Clarkson played whilst Jungkook didn’t move an inch besides to drink that is.

“Join me”, you passed him the other mic to which he took but he still didn’t make any move to sing or stand up.

Eventually, you went on to sing by yourself as energetic as ever, specially when the chorus part came, prompting you to jump wildly with your arms flailing, causing Jungkook to smile at how ridiculous you were being.

“The bridge part’s coming” you grabbed his hand, tugging him up to stand but Jungkook is purposefully making it hard for you to do so by making himself heavier just to tease you and test your patience and not long after, you swatted his hand away as you playfully rolled your eyes, leaving him satisfied with your reaction.

Jungkook waited for the last part of the bridge before he stood up to interrupt your moment by belting out the high note perfectly which got you startled for a second as you turned to look at him and you’re glad to see that he’s finally okay, well, at least for now.

You hit his arm for ruining your moment as you try to feign annoyance, “You’re supposed to sing it badly that’s – SINCE YOU BEEN GONE!”

Jungkook doubled in laughter as he slung his arm around your shoulder. The two of you continued to sing to your heart’s content while also jumping in unison, leaving you exhausted as you tried to catch your breath by the time the song ended.

“You good?” you said in the middle of your coughing fit from straining your throat too much as you collapsed back on the couch, turning your head sideways to look at Jungkook.

“Better”,  Jungkook said as he went back on his feet, tugging you to stand along with him.

—

There are no assignments due, no presentations to prepare, and no thesis revisions needed to be done so what better way to spend the weekend than playing games for hours.

Jungkook was roughly forty five minutes into the game of League of Legends when his phone went off. Glancing at it, your name popped up onto his screen, leaving him to wonder as to why you’d call him when you’re in the middle of a dinner date with some boy you met through a dating app.

“Hello?” Jungkook said as he removed his headphones, replacing his phone to press it against his ear with the support of his shoulder.

“Oh my god, what happened to you?”

“What?” he furrowed his brows, wondering why you sound so frantic.

“You got into a car crash!? Where are you!?” you said in a higher pitch this time.

“What are you talking about?”

“Where are you?”

“Uh Grounds?” he told you the name of the PC Bang where he is currently at but still confused with whatever you’re up to.

“Okay, I'll go there” you said as you hung up just like that, leaving him hanging for the sudden odd phone call.

Nonetheless, he put back his headphones in as he went back to focus on his game, leaving the whole thing for him to think about for later since he’s still in the middle of the game. In fact, he was so focused into the game that he had failed to notice that you had already managed to arrive and sit down right next to the cubicle beside him fifteen minutes later.

Once the game ended, he reclined back to his seat as he twisted his upper body side to side which enabled him to catch a glimpse of a girl in a black puff sleeve dress next to him. The outfit clearly made her stand out from the rest but he had to do a double take once he realized that the overdressed girl right next to him is you.

“What are you doing here?”

“Watching a movie”, you pointed to your screen as he leaned towards your cubicle, catching a glimpse of a scene from the movie called Romeo + Juliet.

Jungkook rolled his eyes at your sarcasm, spinning his chair to face you, “What was that earlier? And why are you eating so much for someone who just had dinner?”

A server just laid down a tray filled with instant noodles, hotdog bun, onion fries, and a soda onto your table. Jungkook was about to get some onion fries until you slapped his hand away, glaring at him as you popped a fries into your mouth whilst you adjusted yourself in a more comfortable sitting position by removing your shoes to cross your legs.

“I’m hungry and the date was awful”, you shrugged as you continue to watch the movie.

“Didn’t you have dinner yet?”

“I did but the prick ordered for me a fucking stale salad when i originally wanted a rib eye steak and i just knew i had to get out of there when he randomly pulled up his shirt to show me the  scars he got for playing football or needless to say, he just wanted to show off his oh so perfect abs”, you shaked your head, cringing once you remembered how you felt embarrassed for him when everyone in the restaurant turned their attention towards your table.

Jungkook snorted, “Maybe he just wants to impress you?”

“Yeah, well, I'm very impressed with how he managed to just talk about himself for the whole date” you rolled your eyes but you immediately got distracted when Jungkook just got served with a steaming hot cup of noodles.

“That looks delicious”, you brought in your chopsticks towards the cup noodles, eyeing it despite feeling full but your stomach says otherwise. Disappointingly, the cup of noodles was taken away out of your reach as Jungkook proceeded to slurp a mouthful of noodles, not even caring that it’s still piping hot.

“It’s hot” Jungkook repeatedly said as he made a face once he felt his tongue being burned, causing him to tear up a little as he tried not to spit it out.

You took this chance to get a hold of the cup noodles but Jungkook stopped you, widening his eyes as he shaked his head no at you, “There’s crab sticks in there”, he warned you, considering you’re allergic to shellfish.

“You’re cruel”, you laughed as you noticed that some broth managed to splatter on his chin, making you get a tissue from your bag as you wiped it for him but Jungkook was quick to grab the piece of tissue from you, muttering a thanks as he wiped his whole mouth.

Leaving the game, Jungkook went on to Netflix to search for the same movie you’re watching as he peered over your monitor to see what part of the movie you were in so he could synchronize with you.

“Ah Y/N, how long are we going to be unlucky?” Jungkook said, pertaining to your previous discussion, “Actually, I'm the unlucky one since you’re the one who always ends things.”

“How am i not unlucky? I always end up dating guys with red flags and I end things right away as soon as I notice that red flag,” you defended.

“But don’t you give them some time to confront them about it and give them a chance to improve?” Jungkook asked as his hand sneakily made way towards your onion fries, smiling to himself as he popped in the fries into his mouth.

“Trust me, I've learnt my lesson and as the old saying goes – ‘prevention is better than cure’” ,you playfully winked at him.

“How?” Jungkook looked at you as he awaited your answer but you didn’t answer, probably too annoyed at how his curiosity is comparable to a child with all of his unending questions so he just continued to watch the film that is until you spoke, quite seriously he might add.

“I wasn’t snooping or anything but I got bored one time and managed to borrow my dad’s phone to play games and a text popped out from my aunt saying, ‘what cake should i get?’ and ‘red velvet’s nice, right’, thinking it was for me since my 12th birthday was coming but my aunt got me a chocolate cake instead.”

Jungkook pushed his chair near you, eager for you to continue your story even though he doesn’t know where you’re trying to get at or if this is even related to what he just asked.

“I thought maybe the red velvet flavor ran out so I just shrugged it off and I think about a week after my birthday, I was playing on my dad’s phone again and a text from my aunt popped up again saying, ‘Thanks for the red velvet cake. Happy 2 Years Anniversary to us <3’ and that’s when i thought i wished i never knew what that red velvet cake is for.”

“Shit, what?” Jungkook widened his eyes as he bit his thumb.

“I thought the reason my dad would always bring me to my aunt’s place after school every Friday is that I could get to play with my cousins and that’s the red flag I didn’t care to notice.”

Jungkook tried to read your face to see if the memory still affects you ‘til to this day but it seems not like it. You were being nonchalant while speaking about it as if it isn’t some big of a deal although he could definitely make out your serious tone.

“How is your mom?” Jungkook asked with more caution.

You shrugged as you still remained your eyes on the screen, “Well, my mom found out about it a few months later and they eventually got a divorce.”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N”

“It’s okay. Anyway, It’s ages ago”,  you smiled before your eyes light up as you pointed to the screen, “Oh, look at Romeo and Juliet’s costume. We should wear that for Sunwoo’s Halloween Party, what do you think?”

Sunwoo happens to be the Editor in Chief of the school newspaper and he announced earlier on during the board meeting that he’ll throw a Halloween party this year but that’s not what’s important right now.

It was clearly noticeable you weren’t comfortable anymore to talk further about your parents as soon as you changed the topic. Jungkook felt sorry and worried about you but he decided to just drop it off as he agreed to your halloween costume suggestion.

You might not realize this when you said that you’re okay since it was ages ago but Jungkook could easily tell that it made a big impact on you, specifically on how you handle your relationships which gave him a better grip of understanding now that you weren’t just ending things for the sake of finishing it.

You’re just scared when you shouldn’t be but how could he blame you? Dads should set the bar high for their children but your dad just had to set it so low that he had caused you irreparable damage or worse, caused you your first heartbreak.

Jungkook’s misfortunes in love does not do justice to what you went through and he has come to realize that love isn’t just Sunday mornings and love songs but it could be a whole lot worse with it’s ugly side of after school Fridays and red velvet cakes.

--

Once again, Jungkook found himself at Soundcheck, not to sing but to do a whole lot of listening to you gush over Minho, your new boyfriend for about two months now. According to you, you met Minho during high school and had a big crush on him before but it didn’t go past that until you reconnected with him recently when you discovered that he’s in your Investigative Journalism subject.

Your relationship with Minho started out pretty soon, right after a week since your awful date with that football player from the dating app to be exact.

“Okay, one last song” you exclaimed as you got off the couch after resting a little while.

“I thought that was the last one?” Jungkook closed his eyes in exhaustion as he slid himself sideways to the couch, “Aren’t you tired?”

“I’ll pick a mellow song then” you searched through the song list and shouted an ‘aha!’ in joy as you picked up the remote to enter the song numbers right away.

Jungkook stared at the television, waiting for the screen to show the song title and he just had to sit back up once Emergency Room by Izi flashed on the screen, “Don’t you know that this song is superstitious to sing in a karaoke?”

“Is that the one where it’s believed that you might literally end up in an emergency room if you happen to sing it in a karaoke?”, Jungkook nodded his head while you could only roll your eyes, “Oh come on, Emergency Room is a must in karaoke and that’s why it’s called a superstition, Jungkook. It’s not real”

“Well, It doesn’t hurt to believe one, does it?”

You shrugged as you turn a deaf ear by singing the whole song by yourself, insistently proving that it’s just a stupid superstition like the others.

“So far, so good, hm?” you beamed a contemptuous smile as you finished the song.

“Let’s just go to Eomma’s, I'm hungry”, Jungkook shook his head as he grabbed your hand, dragging you outside of the room and into the elevator, pressing the ground floor button.

Eomma’s Tteokbokki is a hole in the wall restaurant located right beside the building where Soundcheck is and it is owned by a 72 year old woman named Han Ji Hye but everyone who frequents the place just calls her ‘Eomma’.

“Jungkook and Y/N, you’re here again” Eomma greeted the both of you as soon as you entered the restaurant. Despite her age, Eomma has a very sharp memory and remembers each and every one of her loyal customers, even treating them just like her children – Eomma sure does live up to her nickname.

“Of course, Eomma. How could i not come back to the most delicious tteokbokki i’ve ever tasted ”, you winked at her as you raised both of your hands to give her a thumbs up.

“Ah you kids always flatter me”, Eomma placed both of her hands above her heart, “You’ll be getting the classic tteokbokki as always, right?”

“As expected, Eomma knows us so well”, Jungkook smiled.

“You’re really such a handsome young boy, isn’t he Y/N?” Eomma pinched his cheeks as she turned to look at you but you could only laugh as soon as you saw Jungkook adorably scrunched his nose.

“Ah Eomma, i might be convinced if you keep on saying that” Jungkook said through his gritted teeth.

“Is he?” you raised your eyebrows as you teasingly looked at Jungkook.

“Oh dear, you’re missing out. I’d marry my granddaughter to him if only i have one around his age but in case you change your mind, you better invite me to your wedding – you’d make a great pair!”

Jungkook shyly caressed his hair behind his ears as he pursed his lips and he just had to cover his face once he felt his face getting warmer by the second and you aren’t also an exception for Eomma’s teasing as you felt yourself getting shy, making you chug a glassful of water just to hide it.

“Alright, let me just get your orders”, Eomma chuckled as she patted both of your shoulders.

Peering through his fingers, Jungkook waited for Eomma to disappear into the kitchen but you wrapped your hands around his wrist as you tried to pry it away from his face as you went on to tease him.

“Come on, why are you hiding your handsome face?” you laughed but got startled all of a sudden once you heard your phone vibrating against the metal table.

Jungkook willingly took his hands off his face as he watched you pressed your phone against your ear, already guessing that Minho is probably on the other end of the line.

Eomma came by to serve the tteokbokki, telling you to eat to your heart’s content before disappearing once again behind the kitchen. Jungkook proceeded to eat first as he tried not to eavesdrop into your conversation that is until you called his attention.

“Is it okay if Minho’s joining us?”  you asked as you pry your phone away from your ear.

Jungkook paused for a bit before he could answer, “Yeah, it’s fine.”

“Great” you smiled as you then told Minho over the phone to come over at Eomma’s.

Well, this is new. The both of you have never met each other’s significant other – except for Cho Hee since you went to highschool with her but besides that, the both of you have never bothered to begin with, considering how they just come and go so why go through all that trouble now?

“So, is that the reason why you wanted to have a late dinner with me?” he slowly drew out the words as he tilted his head to the side.

“Well, i think it’s just a matter of time for you to meet him”, you shrugged as you placed down your phone and grabbed the chopsticks off the utensils holder.

“I thought we don’t do that?” Jungkook chuckled as he looked across you.

“I know and this may sound cliche but…” you tried to chew first the tteokbokki but you can’t contain your smile as you thought of the next sentence you’ll say and now you looked like a cheeky chipmunk, “Minho’s different.”

“Yeah? You think so?”

“He’s actually very very nice like he’s such an angel and he’s just that kind of person you’d want to introduce to your family” you explained with glimmer in your eyes like you just discovered one of the most lustrous diamond on earth and by that, he could tell just how smitten you are with Minho and that’s when he weirdly felt the twinge of envy inside him.

“Oh here he is” you sat up straight as you raised your hand to call Minho.

Jungkook turned around and suspected the boy clad in a blue flannel shirt and black jeans to be Minho when he saw him walking over towards your table.

“Hey”, Minho leaned down, pulling you in a one sided hug as he kissed your cheek, making you flustered until you realized that Jungkook’s probably cringing at your display of affection.

“Oh um Minho this is Jungkook, Jungkook Minho” you pointed them towards each other, smiling brightly as you clasped your hands together right after.

“It’s nice to meet you, Jungkook” Minho extended his hand for Jungkook to shake but Jungkook remained in his seat, sizing him up until you kicked his foot.

“Glad to finally meet you too, Minho” Jungkook stood up as he firmly shaked his hand.

“Okay, why don’t we all sit down?” you interjected when you noticed the visible awkwardness between the two.

You guided Minho to sit down on your left side as you called over one of the servers to ask for the menu. On the other hand, Jungkook watched in amusement at your sudden change of character, smiling to himself as he went back to eat.

[Thursday, Sept 18, 9:33 PM]

You: BE NICE

Jungkook glanced towards his phone then to you after reading out your message and he tried his best not to snort when he saw you widening your eyes at him as if that’ll threaten him. Nonetheless, he’ll be willing to follow through whatever you want since it looks like you’re very keen to make him and Minho get along.

“So uh you went to the same high school with Y/N, right?” Jungkook asked, initiating to start and engage into some small talk even though he despises it.

“Yeah and it’s funny to think how small the world is huh?”, Jungkook furrowed his brows at his statement, “Y/N told me you’re dating Cho Hee.”

“Did she?” Jungkook raised his eyebrows at you while you just silently sat there as you poke on your food to avoid his glare.

“You know what? Why don’t we invite Cho Hee here, we could do a double date”, Minho suggested as he nudged you with his elbow.

You scratched the nape of your neck as you let out a chuckle that sounds way out too forced, “I’m going to go in the restroom real quick.”

Jungkook remained his gaze at you until you’re out of his sight, turning back his attention to Minho, “Um, we broke up.”

“Oh really? I'm so sorry i didn’t know”

“It’s fine”, Jungkook quickly dismissed Minho, making the whole atmosphere awkward all of a sudden. Thankfully, Minho found a way to fill in the uncomfortable silence as he changed the topic.

“You’re majoring in Information Systems, right?” Minho asked and Jungkook wondered what’s the point of doing this small talk when you have already shared loads of unnecessary information about Minho, heck he even knows he has a phobia of chickens because he was attacked by one when he was child in his grandfather’s poultry farm and he could only guess that Minho probably knows everything about him too.

“Yeah”

“Then you probably know Professor Seo?” Minho asked as he planted his elbows on top of the table after ordering.

“Yeah he was my advisor during my feasibility study last year, made my junior year eventually a hell with the constant revisions that shouldn’t be even revised just because he’s being so stupidly meticulous”, Jungkook blabbered, trying at least to exert some effort into this conversation, “How do you know him?”

“He’s my uncle”, and with that being said, Jungkook choked up on his food, prompting Minho to get him a glass of water, passing it to him.

Well, fuck. Why have you not mentioned that to him before?

“But yeah, I get it, me and my cousins hate how he’s sometimes strict with us too”, Minho smiled, leaving Jungkook to decipher if it’s a fake one or genuine. Nonetheless, Jungkook let out a nervous chuckle as he eyed the restroom, wondering when are you going to come out to save him from his embarrassment.

As if the gods had heard his prayers, the server went by the table to put down Minho’s order of tteokbokki whilst his phone went off just in time to save his dignity.

“Excuse me”, Jungkook stood up as he went outside the restaurant to answer the call from his thesis mate.

As soon as he answered the call, his thesis mate endlessly rambled on about how his brain had managed to dried up from creating different survey questions only for them to end up getting rejected by their advisor hence why he’s calling Jungkook to ask for help.

Jungkook was put on the spot as he tried to brainstorm for plausible questions although it took him some time but he ended up contributing five questions so at least there’s that to save his thesis mate.

Once the call ended, Jungkook went back inside to see a bit of commotion going on around your table. Minho was rubbing his hands at your back as he looked at you with an equally confused face whilst the server from a while ago was trying to assess the situation by asking you a question but your coughing fit prevents you from speaking up.

“What’s happening?” Jungkook asked the same question the server was just asking.

“I think she’s choking” the server handed a glass of water to Minho who took it to put it against your mouth, assisting you whilst continuously patting your back but it took no effect to cease your coughing fit.

“I can’t breathe” you heaved as you scratch your neck and that’s when Jungkook noticed your watery eyes and your face that’s starting to swell. Pulling up the sleeves of your jacket, his guess was right when he saw hives littering your arm – you’re having an allergic reaction.

“Do you have an antihistamine with you?” Jungkook asked you as you shook your head no, remembering how you had just brought only your wallet with you and that’s how he began to get frantic.

“I’ll hail a cab, we need to get her to the hospital” Jungkook rushed towards the door but Minho stopped him before he could get outside.

“I’ve taken my car with me”, Minho told Jungkook as he hoisted you up by putting his arm around you, guiding you towards the outside and into his car. On the other hand, Jungkook went straight to the cashier to pay for the bill before he dashed out of the restaurant to follow suit.

Minho started the car once Jungkook got in the backseat, speeding right away to the nearest hospital. Jungkook leaned forward towards the center console as he worriedly looked at you

“What’s happening with her?” Minho looked totally lost as he looked over at you then towards Jungkook for some answer.

“She’s having an allergic reaction”, Jungkook stated the obvious fact, “What did she eat?”

“I ordered the new flavored tteokbokki then she just grabbed a bite or two, that’s it” Minho said in his defense.

“The cheesy shrimp one!?” Jungkook widened his eyes.

“Yeah, is she allergic to shrimp? But I thought she’s allergic to seashells though?”

Jungkook looked at Minho dead in the eyes, wondering if your boyfriend is seriously trying to make a joke right now or is he just plain stupid? With the way he looks so serious asking him about it, he could confirm that it’s the latter.

“You meant to say shellfish, right?” Jungkook grumbled as he tried to remain calm, knowing that your boyfriend isn’t actually clueless about your allergy but he sure is careless to forget that one important thing about you.

Jungkook was pulled out of his anger as soon as a sob escaped from you, making him turn his attention at you, just in time to see you clutching the collar of your shirt as if you’d want to loosen them with the way you looked like you were gasping for air while your shoulders heaved.

“I can’t breathe”, you said in between shaky breaths, “I’m going to die.”

“Hey, try not to cry, okay? It’ll be harder for you to breathe” Jungkook instructed Minho to roll down your windows as he warmly smiled at you once you looked at him but you quickly diverted your eyes to Minho when he gently grabbed your hand, squeezing it to reassure you.

“We’re near and I promise, I’m not going to let you die” Minho told you as he steered his eyes away from the road for a moment to look at you oh so lovingly like he isn’t the reason why you were like this in the first place, causing Jungkook to internally cringe.

Not too long, Minho drove the car to the driveway slope of the emergency bay and Jungkook quickly hopped off the car, opening your door as he removed your seatbelt for you, wrapping his arm around your back and under your knees when you slightly pushed his shoulder, stopping his movements.

“I can walk”, you weakly voice out.

Jungkook let out an exasperated sigh as he went on instead to grab your arm, slinging it around his shoulder while he held you securely close to him by wrapping his arm around your waist, hoisting you up out of your seat and towards the entrance.

“Is your pride really that important?” Jungkook reprimanded you.

Once the automatic doors opened, a nurse stationing the desk nearby the entrance rushed in to your aid. Jungkook explained the whole thing to the nurse and she was quick to get a wheelchair for you as she wheeled you towards one of the vacant beds.

Jungkook stood at the end of the bed, crossing his arms as he anxiously bit down on his thumb whilst he watched the two nurses move you towards the bed. They try to ask you your name or simply assure you to try to stay you calm as they put on an oxygen mask for you to breathe properly.

Thankfully, your breathing started to come back to normal when they injected a shot of epinephrine into your thigh. The nurse removed your jacket for you as they rolled up the sleeves of your shirt to wrap the cuff of the blood pressure monitor around your arm.

“How is she?” Minho asked as he suddenly appeared beside Jungkook, startling him a bit.

“They just gave her an epinephrine” Jungkook told him without taking his eyes off of you as he gave you a reassuring smile when he saw your still worrisome face.

The nurse came up to Jungkook after she had taken down your vital signs, “Are you her boyfriend?”

“Uh no, he is”,  Jungkook pointed to Minho as he rubbed his hand against the nape of his neck.

“Oh I’m very sorry” the nurse apologized as she turned her attention to Minho to ask him a few questions and to also fill out some paperwork.

“How are you feeling?” Jungkook asked as he went to sit down on one of the chairs beside the bed.

“Good”, you heaved out a sigh, “I should’ve listened to you.”

“About what?” Jungkook furrowed his brows, clueless to what you’re referring to.

“I should’ve not sung Emergency Room.”

Jungkook closed his eyes as he smiled, tiling his head to the side, “I thought you were being serious there.”

The sound of the curtains closing swiftly caused the both of you to turn your attention towards the nurse and Minho who just ended their conversation. Minho walked towards the side of the bed where Jungkook is currently seated, prompting him to stand up and give his seat to him as he chose to idly stand at the end of the bed instead, watching the two of you converse.

“I’ll just go to the convenience store outside”, Jungkook announced, quite finding it awkward to be a third wheel inside that cramped cubicle room.

The trip to the convenience store didn’t take him too long as he’s now entering the automatic doors of the emergency room with a white plastic bag on his hand, containing refreshments for the three of you. He was about to open the curtains of your cubicle but he stopped himself when he overheard Minho’s words, not wanting to get in the way of your conversation just yet.

“Shit, i forgot to pick up my sister”, Minho said, panic evident in his voice.

“Oh, right, you should go'' you muttered albeit disappointedly.

“Are you sure?”

Your boyfriend is completely incredulous to say that, knowing you were in a critical situation minutes ago and Jungkook knew that he just had to interject into your conversation, “I’ll take her home.”

Minho was dumbfounded for a bit when Jungkook shoved the bottle of cold brew right away into his hand and he was left to think how nice Jungkook is but his not so subtle aggressive action says otherwise.

“Okay then”, Minho shrugged as he leaned down to you, planting a kiss right on your forehead, “Keep me updated, okay?” you nodded as you watched Minho go over to Jungkook, pulling him in for a half hug as he thanked him for the drink.

Minho looked over at you one last time, waving his hand before he disappeared right as he went out through the curtains. Sighing, you laid your head back against the pillow, staring right through the creamy white ceiling when a box of apple juice appeared right before you.

“And for you”, you grabbed the juice from Jungkook as you sat yourself upright, opening the box as you punched the straw through the hole.

“Thanks”, you said as you took a sip.

“So, he left to pick up his sister huh?” Jungkook asked as he sat on the side of the mattress.

It really wasn’t hard for you to miss his snide remark and it can’t be helped that Minho might’ve not sat well with Jungkook considering all of the events for tonight, giving Minho a bad first impression for Jungkook.

“Minho’s really going to fetch his sister tonight. He just dropped by at Eomma’s because it’s on his way”, you defended as you try to justify Minho’s action.

“Still, aren’t you here because you’re allergic to seashells?” Jungkook smiled in a condescending way.

You chuckled as you kicked his side with your leg, “Don’t be so hard on him besides, it was an accident.”

“Ow, that kick sure is harder” Jungkook hissed as he rubbed his sides, acting as if your kick was really that strong and forceful when it’s not.

Jungkook immediately hopped off the bed as soon as the doctor came in but she was quick to dismiss him, telling him it’s fine. Nonetheless, Jungkook chose to stand, watching Doctor Kim – as it says on her coat –  switch on her penlight, instructing you to open your mouth.

“What did you eat?” the doctor asked you as she examined the chart.

“I had a tteokbokki but i didn’t know that it had some shrimp on it.”

“Okay and have you ever had this type of reaction before?” Doctor Kim asked as she clicked her click pen against the clipboard to write down what you’re saying.

“No, I usually just take an antihistamine for my allergy.”

Doctor Kim nodded as she reviewed the chart one last time before she spoke up, “Alright, so what you went through is called an anaphylactic shock which is a severe allergic reaction that can be very life threatening if not treated immediately but thankfully, you were taken care of. Since it's the first time you got this reaction, I'd recommend that you carry an EpiPen with you from now on just to be cautious for future attacks like these.”

“Will I be discharged now?” you asked when you suddenly remember that you still have an unfinished essay to work on.

Doctor Kim chuckled at how you sounded like an impatient kid, “Well, not yet because you’re still under observation and we need to make sure that you won’t have a second reaction. Also, i have to put you through an antihistamine IV drip to lessen the swelling on your throat.”

“Oh okay” you said, sounding unsure as your mind is too busy thinking if you’d be able to finish your essay and pass it on time.

“Alright, i’ll be checking on you from time to time, okay?” Doctor Kim smiled as you thanked her.

As Doctor Kim left, you pressed your fingers against your temples, sighing as you unlocked your phone to stare at your essay that still needs 1,000 words for you to finish it but nothing seems to come up to your mind when you try to brainstorm for ideas.

“What’s the matter?” Jungkook asked out of curiosity.

“I have an essay due before midnight and I’m still not yet done.”

“What is it about?”

Before you could even reply, a nurse came in to set up the IV fluid solution bag by suspending it on an infusion stand, “Hi, i’ll be inserting the IV now, okay?”

You watched the nurse wrap a tourniquet around your wrist as she palpates the skin atop of your hand, looking for a prominent vein. The catheter hasn’t even pricked your skin yet but you had already turned your head to the side, squeezing your eyes shut as soon as the nurse swabbed the sterowipe atop of your hand.

Stifling a laugh, Jungkook enclosed his hand around yours for you to hold on to but he was not expecting for you to grip his hand so tightly as if your life depended on it, making him grimace in pain.

“Okay, you’re done” the nurse told you as she opened the roller clamp to let the fluid flow through your veins.

“Thank you”, you smiled.

“That was one hell of a grip”, Jungkook shook his hand, “Were you going to crush my bones?”

“Sorry”, you apologized as you immediately went back to look on your phone, skimming through your essay.

“What is it about?” Jungkook repeated.

“It’s fine, It’s not like you could really help me with it” you waved your hand, dismissing him.

“Are you underestimating me?” Jungkook  squinted his eyes as he leaned closer towards you.

You withdrew your eyes away from the screen just to roll your eyes at Jungkook, “It’s about Marxism and its relevance to today’s society.”

“That’s something about capitalism, isn’t it?”

“It’s a theory about the effects of capitalism on workers and the economic development but yeah.”

“See, have a little faith in me, yeah?” Jungkook winked as he grabbed your phone to search  the topic right away.

“If you say so”, you said, still quite unconvinced.

“I’ll treat you at Eomma’s if you get a perfect score.”

Well, that’s more convincing although the real reason you don’t want to accept Jungkook’s help is because you’ve been a big burden just for tonight. It’s not like you could deny him if he’ll keep on insisting besides, you could feel your eyes getting heavier with how tired you are just from crying.

You pointed out clearly to Jungkook that he just needs to open the student portal and submit the essay before midnight. Jungkook was quick to dismiss you after you have relayed all the important information, instructing you to just lay down and rest.

Jungkook tried to absorb as much information about the concept behind Marxism and he has one and a half hours left to do some research and write about it that’s why he’s concentrating hard to put out all his best to this work but you got him all distracted upon hearing you chuckle.

“What?” he raised his head to look at you.

“You look so serious”

“Just close your eyes”, Jungkook covered your eyes with his hand, making you grab his wrist to pry it away from your now closed eyes.

Shaking his head, Jungkook went back to focus on his writing and next thing he knew, he had finished and submitted it just in time – five minutes before midnight to be exact.

Jungkook let out a yawn as he stretched his whole body by extending his arms upward and twisting his body from side to side. He inched the chair closer against the side of the bed so he could lay down his head atop of his arms to take a quick nap.

Looking at you, fast asleep and so peaceful, Jungkook chuckled to himself at how he could clearly make out your wide open mouth behind the oxygen mask thus prompting him to prod your chin up to close your mouth only for you to open them again.

His gaze remained on you and weirdly enough, a familiar sense of warmth overcame Jungkook, just like that day when he saw his mom and dad dancing in the living room therefore making him realize that maybe, suppressing these emotions won’t be of much help anymore.

--

Jungkook rushed towards the campus plaza after his classes to meet you there since you are both assigned to cover the Chuseok festivities in the campus for the school newspaper. He took out the laminated staff ID from his pocket, wearing it around his neck as he ran even faster once he heard the introduction speech of the hosts for today’s program booming through the speakers.

It took him another five minutes before he was able to get past through the barricades and stand right beside you at the side stage, considering the plaza was already packed when he got there. Jungkook had to squeeze his way through the crowd as he muttered a bunch of ‘excuse me’ and ‘sorry’ to those who he had bumped onto accidentally in the process.

“I saved you some” you said, giving him a pack of Pumpkin Songpyeon that was distributed for free by the brand that’s sponsoring the event.

Jungkook first got his camera from his bag before he took the pack of rice cake from you, “Thanks.”

A group of girls dressed in blue and red traditional hanboks filled the stage once the host introduced them. They went on to form a circle as they joined their hands together to perform a dance of Ganggangsullae. Raising his camera, he looked into the viewfinder as he set on to capture the performance that is until you nudged his shoulder

A blurred shot of the performance then displayed on his camera’s screen, causing him to tighten his lips as he looked over at you to question why you had to ruin his shot but you were busy shaking your pointer finger towards the performers on stage.

“Oh Jungkook, isn’t that Cho Hee?”, you said, “She’s gotten prettier.”

The girls in the circle are now crouched down as they languidly swing their arms side to side, surrounding the two girls dancing in the middle of the circle and sure enough, Jungkook now recognized one of the two girls wearing the red hanbok to be his ex-girlfriend.

Honestly, it has been a while since he last saw Cho Hee around and he could thank the massive campus for it. He’s actually glad to see her perform up there, knowing that his bitter feelings for her have naturally subdued which could only mean that he had actually moved on from her.

Junkook chose to ignore your remarks as he then proceeded to take a few shots until he got satisfied with it. The performance soon ended with all of the girls going down to the side of the stage where the both of you are standing and he pretended to review his shots, knowing how awkward it always gets when he gets to see his exes by chance.

“Cho Hee! you were great up there” you said as you approach Cho Hee to grab her arm.

Did you really have to talk to her?

“Ah thank you” Cho Hee smiled, bowing his head shyly at you and then she looked at him, “Hi.”

“Hi”, Jungkook raised his hand to do a little wave.

You could definitely feel the awkwardness radiating between the two when you looked over them as they tried to look anywhere else except at each other’s gaze.

“It’s so nice to see you again” you spoke up, making it easier for the two.

“Yeah, you too” Cho Hee said, “Anyway, i need to change backstage so i guess, i’ll see you around and by the way, Happy Chuseok!”

“Happy Chuseok”,  Jungkook said in unison with you.

“Well, that was awkward” you chuckled as you imitated Jungkook’s awkward ‘Hi’ greeting to Cho Hee.

Jungkook shook his head at you as he opened the pack of Songpyeon to snack on, “How are you and Seashell?” he asked, changing the topic.

“Stop calling him that” you pinched his arm but laugh nonetheless at how Jungkook stuck to calling Minho that obnoxious nickname ever since that incident, “We’re good. Actually, he’s going home with me tomorrow to meet my parents.”

Well, that’s surprising. You’ve never taken home any of your past boyfriends for the holidays or maybe it’s just the fact that they didn’t last long enough to celebrate a special holiday like this whereas it looks like Minho is in it for the long run but isn’t it too early to introduce him to your family?

“Oh you’re leaving early?” Jungkook asked, completely ignoring the fact about Minho.

“Yeah, how about you?”

“I’m leaving the day after tomorrow.”

Jungkook can’t fully understand what you see in Minho and he doesn’t get it either why your relationship with him seems too fast but who is he to complain like that anyway?

You’re now happy and Jungkook doesn’t want to ruin that just because he had doubts about Minho although you clearly know already how much he dislikes your boyfriend. Jungkook just wants what’s best for you because that’s how a friend should think, is it? This is definitely not rooting from something else.

After the event, you went your separate ways with you saying that you still have to ready and pack up your belongings for tomorrow whilst Jungkook spent the rest of his day inside his dorm to just lay around and watch his roommate pack up like what everyone else is probably doing.

The highway traffic is always the worst before the eve of Chuseok as everyone is scampering to spend the start of the holiday in their respective hometowns while Jungkook took the smart idea of travelling to Busan on the eve itself since everyone’s home by then and the traffic is much lighter.

It was already past noon when Jungkook woke up the next day to see that his roommate already left. He snuggled closer to his pillow, closing his eyes to go back to sleep again since there’s really nothing important for him to do for the whole day so he might as well get that well deserved sleep for all of those all-nighters he went through this semester.

Jungkook groaned as he heard the blaring sound of the alarm on his phone go off when he’s certain that he had not set up an alarm. Nonetheless, he patted the space beside him to blindly search for the device, pressing the home button so he could peacefully go back to dreamland.

He was slowly drifting off to sleep again when his phone went off again and this time, he opened his eyes as he looked over the screen to notice that it was not an alarm but it’s a phone call from you.

“Jungkook”

“Hmm?” he drawled out a low hum as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

“Are you doing anything now?”

“I was sleeping but why?” he said with his eyes still closed, wondering why you're calling him.

“Can you meet me up at Soundcheck?”

Jungkook sat himself up as he looked over at his window to see that the sun was beginning to set, “Aren’t you back at home with Minho?”

“Hmm there’s a change of plan so hurry, i’m already here” you ended the call before he could even ask you more about it.

Well, it looks like sleeping in isn’t an option anymore. Jungkook yawned as he stood up lazily, ruffling his hair whilst he walked towards the bathroom to take a quick shower.

He could not be bothered to take out his comfy casual clothes that he had already packed in his duffle bag so he had just set on to wear whatever is left in his closet – a simple white t-shirt and a nice pair of ripped denim jeans plus a black windbreaker to protect him from the cold.

It’s quite strange to see how the street outside his complex looks almost empty or rather the whole area surrounding the university looks like a ghost town with the majority of the establishments closed prior to the holiday.

Soundcheck is approximately just a seven minute walk from his dorm that’s why it didn’t take too long for him to arrive there. As usual, Hyunseok greeted him, telling him that you and him might be the only customers he’ll be having tonight.

Jungkook headed straight to the room where you are to see you already belting out the lyrics to Since U Been Gone as soon as he opened the door. Not wasting any time further, Jungkook grabbed the other mic off the couch, joining you as he went on full crazy with you by bobbing your heads along to the beat.

It all went like that until Jungkook slumped back on the couch by the fourth song, all out of breath as he tried to take a rest for a while. On the other hand, you’re still energetic as ever and maybe, the two empty bottles of beer on the table is a very clear indication.

Wait.

That’s very unusual of you, considering you could only tolerate one bottle or less of alcohol and any amount more than that will make you a drunken mess in a matter of time – you’re a lightweight drinker after all.

Suddenly, Jungkook remembered the reason why he is here in the first place yet he still ought to know why you’re here, drinking way too much for your liking when you should be back at your hometown to introduce Minho to your family.

“I’ll have that” he snatched your supposedly third beer from your hand as he took a swig that had you complaining at him.

“There’s two more in the bucket!” you whined with your brows furrowed in annoyance.

Jungkook smiled knowing that he got you annoyed but it’s more of the fact that you look rather adorable than menacing. Of course, you wouldn’t take his delight too well as you rolled your eyes at him and proceeded to get another bottle in the bucket instead.

“Don’t be too greedy. Why don’t you save me some?” Jungkook took a hold of your arm that’s already extending towards the bucket of beer as he pulled you down to sit beside him into which you thankfully obliged.

You used Jungkook’s arm on the headrest to cushion your head against as you blankly stared at the ceiling and you felt your eyelids getting heavier once you felt the drowsiness setting in. Scooting closer, you moved your head on Jungkook’s shoulder as you closed your eyes.

“Sing me a song.”

You must’ve thought that Jungkook didn’t hear you when he made no move to grab the remote and pick a song, considering you murmured the words to him but he caught you by surprise when he started to sing an acapella of Alaina Castillo’s Sad Girl much exactly to what you’re feeling right now.

Jungkook’s honey like voice reverberated around the room and you always love how soft and warm his voice is, adding up to the already comforting touches he’s giving you.

Jungkook held you tighter as he enveloped his arms around your shoulder, reeling you in whilst you nuzzled further into his neck as you absentmindedly took a whiff of his cologne – you can’t help it, he just smells so good all the time.

You're supposed to be back at home to introduce Minho to your entire family yet here you are, cuddling up on Jungkook's side. It’s oddly unfamiliar to have Jungkook be this close to you but it’s strangely good and you can’t tell if you want yourself to be familiarized with this kind of setting.

Opening your eyes, you observed Jungkook’s other hand on his lap, laying ever so close to yours and you may or may not have the urge to hold his hand out of nowhere but you were brought out of your thoughts before you could even give in when Jungkook finished the song.

Jungkook went on to hum a soulful tune that you can’t point out if it originated from a song or if he had just made it up but it’s not like you actually mind. You’re at least thankful for having Jungkook to be just here for you even though it was a spontaneous invite. Still, he made the effort to go here and you think that’s enough for your spirits to be lifted up, at least for a little while.

“I broke up with Minho.”

Jungkook glanced down at you, surprised that those words came out of your mouth though he had a hunch that something bad happened between you and Minho as soon as you called him but he didn’t fully expect for you to end things with him, not when you were so ecstatic to bring him home just yesterday.

“What happened?” he tried to lower down his head to take a look at you but he’s unable to, given that your hair has now made its way to your face, making him tuck your hair behind your ear.

“I just realized that he’s not the right person i’d want to introduce to my family.”

Well, that’s a pretty vague answer but before he could question you for more, Hyunseok appeared by the door.

“Hey guys…” Hyunseok’s voice faltered once he took in the view of you both cuddled up close but of course, that didn’t quite last long as you separate yourself from Jungkook, “Um i’m closing early tonight which i mean is in fifteen minutes – just a heads up though!”

“Okay” you both said at the same time and once Hyunseok is out of the room, you stand up all of a sudden to grab the mic and remote off the table.

“We better sing then” you said with a bright smile on your face like you just didn’t gloomily tell him how you had just gotten out of a relationship.

Jungkook assumed that maybe your break up is still too sensitive for you to talk about and maybe you weren’t meant to break out the news just yet. Of course, he’ll respect that until you’re ready to tell him although he’s dying to know what went wrong.

In a span of fifteen minutes, Jungkook was quite spent from trying to squeeze in a whole lot of songs to sing and he was also getting tipsy from gulping down the remaining bottles just so you could not drink any further though you’ve managed to sneakily sip just a bit from his.

“To Eomma’s!” you said once the doors of the elevator opened, darting immediately towards the direction of the restaurant that was disappointingly close already.

“Oh man” Jungkook scratched his head as he stood right next to you while you both stared at the closed signage by the door, “guess we just have to find another place.”

Jungkook slung his arm around your shoulder when he saw how you looked like you were walking on two left feet. You both wandered off the streets to look for any open restaurants you could walk into but it looks like you wouldn’t even find one no matter how hard you look everywhere.

“There’s nowhere for us to go” you pouted, planting your hand on Jungkook’s shoulder.

“Do you wanna head back?”

“Mmm no”, you shook your head, “I don’t want to be alone just yet.”

Glancing down, Jungkook examined your face to see if you’re doing okay but you're completely devoid of any emotions because you looked like you're spacing out instead.

Jungkook pinched your cheeks to tease you only for you to swat his hand away. In return, you turned your head sideways as you playfully bit on Jungkook’s arm, causing him to remove his arm off of you.

“Ow!”,  Jungkook chuckled, “Where do you want to go then?”

You looked up as you try to rack your brain of where you could possibly go at this hour but Jungkook’s adamant on being a little shit right now as he continues to bother you further by bumping his hip against yours to which of course, you retaliated back with an even stronger force and you both went on with it until you eventually lose your balance that had you landing on your bum.

“Ah look what happened”, you take a closer look at your palm, inspecting the new formed graze you got when you tried to lessen the impact of your fall by planting your hand down on the concrete.

“Sorry” Jungkook crouched down on your level, taking your hand to dust the dirt off your palm and to also pull you up with him, keeping you back on his side again by intertwining your arms since you’re prone to hurting yourself lately – emotionally and physically wise speaking.

“So, where now?” Jungkook asked as he rested his head sideways against yours.

“Ew, can’t you talk properly? Your saliva is sputtering on my face” you wiped your cheek as you disgustingly looked at Jungkook.

“That’s not me”, Jungkook widened his eyes at your accusation when he could also feel something wet on his face, more so when he looked up towards the night sky, “Oh? is it going to rain?”

As if on cue, the heavy rain poured, leaving you with only a little time to save yourselves as you both giggly made your way over the sidewalk where you took shelter under the canopy roof of a coffee shop.

Jungkook took in the familiar surroundings and he easily distinguished where the both of you are, “My dorm’s nearby, do you want to stay there for a while?”

“Sure” you said, letting Jungkook take your hand as he guided you, even pointing out the puddles you should avoid but you ended up stepping on some of them, making the both of you laugh.

Upon entering the lobby of Jungkook’s dorm, the security guard blatantly give you weird looks just because you’re both a giggling mess for no apparent reason at all although you stopped midway to apologetically bow your head to him before Jungkook dragged you towards the elevator in a hurry.

You observed your appearance once you had taken a good look of yourself against the mirrored elevator doors. Luckily, you’ve only gotten wet patches throughout your green sweatshirt and leggings but water began to pool around your white tennis shoes because of how drenched it is.

“Doesn’t this sound too dirty?” you laughed as you lightly stomp your feet to produce the wet sloppy sound that totally mimics a sound of two people making out or just having sex in general.

Jungkook smiled as he scratched his brows, finding it ridiculous that you’re starting to voice out your weird thoughts so indiscreetly, “You’re weird.”

Obviously, the weirder thing is that Jungkook has been staring at your joined hands through the whole ride up and it’s inexplicable how nice it is to feel your soft and warm ones against his own that he can’t bring himself to break away the contact, well as long as you allow him to.

Disappointingly, you managed to let go of his hand when you got inside his room so you could discard your wet shoes and socks before going inside the bathroom. Jungkook sat down on the chair, removing his windbreaker and untying his shoes as well.

“Your roommate has gone home already?” you asked as you went over to Jungkook’s bed to lay down.

Jungkook nodded his head as he opened the drawer to get a strip of band aid, alcohol, and a tissue to tend for your graze.

“Have you washed your hands?” Jungkook looked over you as you nodded your head at him. You hissed as soon as Jungkook pressed the tissue he soaked in alcohol onto your graze, finishing it with a band-aid.

“How cute that you have this”, you smiled as you ran your fingers along the green band-aid with teddy bear patterns on it.

“It was Cho Hee’s”

“Oh”, you didn’t mean to sound so disheartened but your tone just came out like that, “Do you still have her things?”

“No, i just didn’t bother to throw out little things like this”

You slowly nodded as you felt your chest tighten for reasons you still ought to know but you quickly dismissed the feeling, laying yourself down on Jungkook’s bed while Jungkook just sat on the side.

Sometimes, you’re curious to know how Jungkook still manages to have faith in love despite being taken for granted by his past lovers – which you hate to see happen to him – or just being unfortunate in general but the question eventually slips your mind before you could even ask him about it.

“Do you still believe in love, Jungkook?” your gaze fell on him and he locked his phone, looking up to meet your eyes with a warm smile.

“Yeah”, Jungkook said with no hesitation as the natural lover he is.

“Why?” you asked, wanting to know his point of view and maybe you could try to learn a thing or two from him.

Jungkook thought about it for a minute before redirecting the question to you instead, curious to know what you have to say, “Why don’t you tell me first? Do you believe in love, Y/N?”

“I guess so” you answered unsurely.

“You guess so?” Jungkook knitted his brows, tilting his head sideways.

“Well, don’t we love because we want to be loved?”

Jungkook shook his head, disagreeing from your statement, “Love should always start from yourself.”

After he had said that, you looked back up the ceiling again as if you’re deep in thought whilst Jungkook just focused on picking up the loose thread along his ripped jeans. Not too long, Jungkook laid back a bit in an opposite position from yours, resting his weight against his elbow on the mattress as he pinched the bridge of his nose to fight off the sleep that’s slowly starting to get him.

“Am i beautiful?” you asked out of nowhere.

Your eyes are still fixated towards the ceiling when he looks over you, unsure at where this question is coming from and why you had said it so suddenly.

“Why are you asking this?” Jungkook nervously chuckled while you just remained silent, prompting him to actually answer your question to not throw you off, “You’re beautiful, Y/N.”

Jungkook tried to gauge your reaction but you’re not even showing any emotion at all when you’re completely lost looking at the ceiling ever since, thinking that maybe you’re just spewing out nonsense.

Laying down completely, Jungkook felt his eyelids getting heavier by the second no matter how hard he tried to fight the sleepiness away although at the end, he eventually gave in as he fluttered his eyes shut.

“Do you love me?”

Jungkook was caught off guard, prompting him to open his eyes as he asked himself if he just happened to hear your voice in his dream but he’s not that deep into his sleep yet for that to occur.

“Did you say something?” Jungkook asked, trying to make sure he heard it right.

“Do you love me, Jungkook?” you repeated but this time you sat up as you set your eyes on him instead of the ceiling.

Mimicking you, Jungkook sat himself up, facing you completely as he rubbed his hand against the nape of his neck, “Of course.”

“I mean, not as friends but... Is it possible that you could love me more than that?” you clarified as you await Jungkook's answer with such an intense stare that had him shying away, making him avert his eyes elsewhere as he thought of what he should even reply to that.

You broke out an awkward laugh when you noticed that you’ve made him uncomfortable by putting him on the spot, “Sorry, i wasn’t thinking straight.”

Jungkook doesn’t know why he just had to grab your arm when you’re about to lay down again but it’s like his body acted for him and ignored the warning signals his mind had sent him. Courage striked through as he bore his eyes into you while he said the words he thought would’ve never come out of him.

“I do love you”, Jungkook muttered before he could even regret saying it.

Not even a second later, he felt his sudden act of courage dwindling down right when he saw you widening your eyes but he had never expected for you to follow through by cupping his face with one of your hands as you went on to move intimately closer, so close that he could make out the raw skin of your lips that possibly resulted off of your bad habit of picking its dry skin.

“Y/N…” he whispered as a fair warning yet it sounds more like a lure.

All this time, he was standing on the edge, asking himself if he should move forward to jump and take the risk although it’s the unknown final outcome he fears the most – will it be a safe landing? or will it be a tormented crash?

There’s no time for him to hold back anymore as he had already let himself fall completely and  Jungkook couldn’t care any less about his fickle thoughts when he averted his gaze away from your lips to your now closed eyes, making him do the same once he felt your lips collide with his.

Jungkook was just taking in how warm your lips felt but you pulled away as soon as you kissed him and he didn’t have to open his eyes to tell that you’ve not completely backed away from him when he could still feel your hot breath inches from his lips, leaving him wanting for more.

Wasting no time, Jungkook grabbed your shoulders as he tilted his head more to the side, opting to close the minimal space between you and that’s where things began to get pretty heated.

You deepened the kiss more as you placed your hand on Jungkook’s nape whilst the other rested on his chest. On the other hand, Jungkook eventually got his hands down to your waist and you responded by readjusting your position, straddling him with your legs placed on both sides of his lap.  

It was then a constant pull between you two as you let yourselves be sucked in a state of euphoria and this is when Jungkook knew that he’s mindlessly falling dangerously fast and hard, making it thrilling yet scary at the same time that he has no assurance to hold on to but it’s not like he’s putting his mind to think of it right now.

Jungkook moved his hand towards your hair as he loosened the piece of elastic around it, letting your hair flow down as he threaded his fingers through it until his hands eventually came across your nape, reeling you in closer as if he’s trying to get rid of any non-existent space, if that’s even possible.

You broke away for a second as you hastily discarded your sweatshirt off and Jungkook’s mind immediately short circuited, eyes travelling down from your face and down to your upper half body that’s barely covering you with the help of your neon pink sports bra that had him smiling in amusement.

“What?” you raised your brows in a teasing manner.

“Cute”

Jungkook’s smile waned off as he felt your lips leave wet trails of kisses along his jaw and down to his neck, causing him to close his eyes in pleasure whilst he bit on his lip to try to keep his moans at a minimum.

Having you like this is totally driving him insane and on edge but as much as he wants to go on further, this feels very unsettling considering you’re both intoxicated and Jungkook had to put a stop before this goes too far.

He gently pushed your shoulders, creating a space between you two, “I don’t think we should be doing this.”

Jungkook pretty much looks like he’s still trapped in a daze but you could tell that he’s just holding it off, confusing you out as to why until you had finally come to your senses – you asked him a stupid question and one thing led to another and you’ve come to not realize until now that you’re sitting on his lap, half naked you might add.

Embarrassed, you froze in place, avoiding Jungkook’s eyes as you crossed your arms across your chest and stomach, feeling conscious all of a sudden like you didn’t initiate the whole thing.

It didn’t go unnoticed for Jungkook to know how you suddenly felt uncomfortable so he searched for your sweatshirt around his room to give it to you but it ended up at the top of his closet and it’s not like he could stand to reach for it when you’re still sitting on his lap.

Jungkook was quick to tug the end of his white shirt, raising it over his head which gave you the chance to ogle at his surprisingly toned chest and abs, making you fluster as you weren’t even aware that his body is this fit and he’s just been hiding it under those oversized clothing of his.

“Raise your arms”, Jungkook demanded.

You blinked as you averted your eyes back on his face, just in time to catch him smirking at you. Nonetheless, you obey as you did what is told even though you’re completely clueless as to why he’s asking you to do so.

“Better?” he asked after he slipped his shirt over your head, smoothing some of your hair that he eventually messed up in the process of kissing you.

You nodded as you held his face with your right hand, smiling fondly when he leaned into your touch and you hate how this moment itself is making you emotional for reasons you don’t even want to remember right now.

“Do you really mean it?” you asked, pertaining to his unexpected confession, “that...you love me?”

Jungkook went on to caress your hair, only pausing as he leaned forward to plant a kiss on your forehead before he lowered his head to match yours, deeply staring into your eyes as he took a deep breath to shake off his nerves. He was already falling, so what difference would it make it if he held back just to slow down a little bit?

“It has always been you”, Jungkook whispered in a low hum.

Closing your eyes, you heaved a content sigh, circling your legs around his body to pull him in closer as you lowered your head to rest them against his shoulder, arms snaking around his lower back ever so tightly.

Whereas, Jungkook had his arm around your shoulder whilst his other hand remained at the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair and you’ve come to learn that he must love to do that, finding it so endearing of him.

This seems perfect and meaningful, it really is, but you can’t help but feel awfully unfair.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asked once he felt you trembling but your crying had only gotten worse with that question, catching him off guard at the sudden change of events.

Jungkook tried to pry you away to take a better look at you but you won’t let him when you just hugged him tighter in return. Stunned, he questioned himself if he had said or done something wrong to upset you or was he just being too much that he got you overwhelmed?

You had finally broken away, breathing raggedly as you quickly wiped your tear stained cheeks, making Jungkook’s concern grow more.

“Hey” Jungkook whispered, sliding his thumb across your cheeks to wipe your tears but you subtly pushed his hand away as you removed yourself off his lap to sit instead near the headboard of his bed, creating a distance between you two.

Crossing your legs, you let your head hang low so your hair could completely block your face away from Jungkook, making it hard for him to read you but your body language speaks for itself and he thought that maybe, he had misread the whole situation.

“I’m so-”

“I caught Minho cheating on me” you broke out the news after you’ve taken a deep breath.

“What?” Jungkook gaped his mouth in surprise, eyes widening as he replayed the words over and over again into his head.

“I went to his dorm unannounced yesterday and when I opened the door i-” you buried your face into your hands as you broke out into a sob again.

“You don’t have to continue that”, Jungkook inched closer as he was about to give you a hug but he was reminded of how you had pushed him away seconds ago thus making him retract his hand away that’s been hovering above your shoulder for quite a while. Instead, he gave you some space as he could only helplessly watch you.

Anger bubbled up inside him and he was furious, knowing how much love and effort you have poured for your shit of an ex-boyfriend. Jungkook had finally claimed his doubts that he’s up to no good yet you always dismiss him because of how you truly love and believe in him.

Jungkook propped his fist against his temple, watching you worriedly but he’s just glad that you’ve managed to calm down a bit, “I think you need to take a rest now.”

“Okay” you nodded, standing up and walking over to get your still soaked shoes.

“You could stay... If you want” Jungkook stammered as he scratched his head.

You stare at your tennis shoes, deciding whether to wear it or put it back but you guess that the latter option is more reasonable just because it’s much more comfortable to wear these shoes dry anyway but that’s just an excuse your mind made up for you to believe.

“Sure”, you said, joining Jungkook to sit at the side of his bed.

“Okay”

“I’m just going to wash my face” you excused yourself before it gets too awkward.

While you were inside the bathroom, Jungkook got up towards his closet, getting himself another shirt and also taking off his pants, leaving him only in his boxer shorts. He headed back to his bed, getting under the covers as he laid on his back to look at the ceiling and think of this night that had him running his hand along his face.

He has come to know now that you’ve asked him those questions because you just need to be reassured and so you could also stray away from those insecurities that Minho has now planted on you.

Jungkook hates how he could be so naive at times but could you blame him for being unaware? For taking the chance you don’t even fully intend to give to begin with? But shouldn’t he be grateful at least that he was able to grasp that chance for a little while even though he knows it’s only a matter of make-believe? And by that, he can’t help but feel a pang on his chest.

Were you just using him to get over Minho?

There wasn’t enough time for him to ponder much over it when he heard the knob of the bathroom door twisting and he went to scoot to the other side, giving you enough space to lay on.

As you laid down, Jungkook tried his best to set aside his own feelings for your sake, reminding himself that you’re the one he should be worrying about more but that doesn’t erase the fact that you’re not just the only one hurting here.

“You good?” Jungkook asked as he felt the bed dipped.

“Yeah”, you whispered.

“I knew there’s something wrong with him ever since that emergency room incident”, Jungkook said, filling in the void.

“Actually, he lied about picking up his sister. He went over to see his ex that night” you said with such contempt in your voice.

“Oh wow”, he said, turning his head sideways to look at you, “Do you want me to beat the shit out of him so that he could actually end up staying in the emergency room this time?”

Jungkook tried to make the mood lighter and somehow, his statement earned a chuckle from you although the awkward silence made its way back once again.

“Jungkook, about-”

“We should sleep” Jungkook cut you off, choosing not to hear what you have to say, knowing that you’re probably going to bring up about the events before. Call him a coward but some things are better left unsaid and he would appreciate it if you spare him his pride, at least for tonight.

Even though it’s completely dark in his room, he could definitely feel your eyes on him and thought that maybe, his words came out way too harshly than he thought, “I mean, we should talk in the morning when our minds are clear”, Jungkook offered you a smile as he went on to return your stare.

“Yeah, i agree”, you momentarily looked at him, “Good night, Jungkook”

You turned on your side with your back facing him and he didn’t try to let the still visible tension between you two bother him so much, deciding to himself that it’s better to just deal with it tomorrow in the morning as what you’ve agreed on.

“Good night, Y/N”, Jungkook turned to face the wall, closing his eyes as he slowly drifted off to sleep.

As the morning came, Jungkook ended up lying on his stomach with the side of his face pressed on top of his hand. The sunlight shining directly on his eyes made him knit his brows in his sleep as he tossed and turned over to try to avoid it but the light won’t certainly leave him alone as stubborn as it is.

Groaning, he begrudgingly fluttered his eyes open, squinting them until his eyes could fully adjust to the bright light. Honestly, Jungkook thought that you’ll be the first thing he’ll see this morning but he was puzzled to see instead the white shirt he was wearing last night, rather you were wearing last night to be neatly folded next to him.

Jungkook propped himself up on his elbows as he scanned the room to see that your green sweatshirt is not atop of his closet anymore or how your soaked white tennis shoes are also missing and he started to doubt himself if he had just too much to drink to imagine all of it but that clearly wasn’t the case when he saw your hair tie is still around his wrist.

Sighing, Jungkook let himself fall back down on the mattress as he squeezed his eyes shut only for him to open them again to stare at the ceiling that’s seemingly getting farther and farther away from him as he feels himself sinking down along with his heavy heart.

And just like that, you were gone.

--

Who would’ve known that winning first in Uno is this boring? More so when he’s stuck to watch the remaining eight players draw more and more cards, making the game seem endless. Bored as hell, Jungkook chose to just lay back on the couch, snacking on a bowl of peanuts as he eventually slowly lost focus, mind drifting particularly to that night.

What if he didn’t invite you over to his dorm? What if he didn’t confess? What if you never kissed him? What if the reason you left him in the morning is because your bus is scheduled to depart early? Or could you possibly intend to just leave him there with not a single word?

A month of no communication perfectly backs up his thoughts that you had indeed intended to leave him there and all these questions that still managed to plagued Jungkook’s mind are just a product of his wishful thinking.

Since then, he hasn’t heard from you and he didn’t try to bother reaching out too, unsure if you still consider him as a friend but you have obviously drawn the line ever since you left him that morning, making him guess that he’s now a stranger to you.

Although he can’t help but still cling to this little hope inside his mind and give you the benefit of the doubt that maybe, you haven’t totally cut your ties with him but that’s just proper bullshit.

It is what it is.

Sighing, Jungkook got his phone out of his pocket as he scrolled on it, not really in the mood to socialize anymore in Sunwoo’s Halloween Party. He would’ve gone home and left the party if he could but he carpooled on his way here with his friend, leaving him no choice but to stay and wait.

“I’ll just go outside”, Jungkook told his friend as he got up to make his way outside the backyard. Along the way, someone suddenly slung their arm around his shoulder just as he was about to open the sliding door.

“Jungkook!” said the man dressed in a Darth Vader costume.

“Oh Sunwoo”, Jungkook greeted him as soon as he removed his mask, greeting him in a hug.

“I’m glad you could make it”, Sunwoo smiled as he looked him up from head to toe, trying to make out his costume, “What are we wearing tonight?”

Jungkook let out a chuckle as he observed his costume, wondering if his silver chain mail shirt paired with an arm armor doesn’t give away that he’s clearly dressing up as a medieval knight or specifically, that he’s dressing up as Leonardo Dicaprio in the movie Romeo + Juliet, just like as you planned.

“Oh i’m dressing up as Leonardo Dicaprio’s Romeo character” he explained the costume you had forced him to buy and the only reason he’s wearing it is because it’ll be a waste of money if he’ll just let it gather dust in his closet.

“And where’s your Juliet?”

Maybe, it is a bad idea wearing this costume if he’s just going to be asked that question for the nth time tonight as he’s just making a complete fool out of himself or perhaps, pitiful more so.

“Well, i’m still looking for my Juliet” he smiled and hoped he’s not going to say that cringy reply anymore for tonight.

Sunwoo chuckled as he leaned closer to Jungkook, whispering, “In that case, you don’t have to look too hard.”

Jungkook knitted his brows at Sunwoo who just winked at him as he patted his shoulder before disappearing in the crowd to communicate more with the guests as the host he is. Nonetheless, he just shrugged it off as he got himself out in the backyard and took a breather away from the party he’s not really fond of at all.

Well, it’s rather peaceful and quiet out here except for the muffled music coming inside the house and he wished he would have come here sooner if he had only known that he’ll be having the backyard all to himself.

Jungkook sat himself down on the wooden garden swing and it enabled him to get a nice view of the perfect clear sky, surprising him even at the sight of the rare blue moon, prompting him to get his phone so he could capture the moon in all its glory.

Clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, Jungkook looked at the picture and he wished he could’ve brought his camera here to give the moon’s beauty justice but since that won’t do, he laid his head to the side to rest as he kept his gaze on the moon, not even noticing that he’s slowly being lulled to sleep by the swing.

“There you are”

Jungkook opened his eyes, surprised to see you staring down at him with a wide grin, chuckling even at how his eyes got bigger.

“I heard you’ve been looking for me”,  you said as you rounded up the swing, taking the space next to Jungkook.

Rubbing his eyes, Jungkook sniggered in embarrassment as he pinched the bridge of his nose, “Did Sunwoo tell you that?”

“Well, he just said that there’s a medieval knight looking for his angel and I just knew it had to be you”, you chuckled.

“And how could you be so sure about that?” Jungkook raised his brow in a teasing manner.

“You’re Romeo and I’m Juliet. We planned this, remember?”, you said as your smile faltered after having said that, speaking more in a whisper, “I just didn’t know you’d still go through with it.”

Glancing at you, he gets to take in your costume for the very first time with your white dress that extends up to your knees, your little angel wings, and your hair tied up in a half ponytail with braids and wisps of hair falling at each side of your face.

He averted his eyes away the second you catched him looking, causing him to look back at the sky, pretending as if the blue moon were much more worthy of his attention although he’s  confused or possibly intrigued to say the least as to why you’re talking so casually to him when he could still clearly remember that you don’t want to do anything about him anymore.

“How have you been?” he asked, choosing to talk casually as well if that’s what you want.

“Nothing much, really”, you shook your head but later snapped your fingers as if remembering something, “Oh! I actually got a perfect score on that Marxism essay.”

“Really? Congrats!”

“So i guess you have to treat me at Eomma’s huh?”

Jungkook stroked his chin, looking up as if he’s trying to remember, “Did I say that?”

“Don’t act like you didn’t say that” you laughed as you shoved him but quickly regretted it when he almost fell off the swing, causing you to grab his arm as you put your other hand to cover your mouth, stifling your laugh.

“Do you have a grudge on me or something?” Jungkook put his finger in the middle of your forehead, chuckling at how you closed your eyes and scrunched your face as you waited for the impact of his flickering finger.

Somehow, laughter ensued between the two of you and this weird sense of familiarity crept over him, putting a smile on his face that is until you spoke up.

“I’ve missed you”

Jungkook turned to look at his fiddling fingers on his lap as he bit on his lip to hold back himself from returning those words he has been wanting to say to you ever since he saw your face but he’s afraid he’ll end up hurting again.

“I love you, Jungkook”

Jungkook felt his heart twinge, not in excitement but in pain as he let out a chuckle that sounded albeit scornful.

“You can’t just say that and expect everything to be okay”, Jungkook said in a venomous tone, making the big elephant in the room much more obvious now.

“I know and I’m sorry i should’ve stayed for us to talk but...” you stopped, hesitating to continue your sentence.

“But what?”

You rapidly blinked your eyes as you try not to get too emotional, unsure if you should even lay out this information but Jungkook deserves to know why you had left him that morning even though it’ll hurt him more.

Letting out a deep breath, you closed your eyes before you could talk, “Minho called me that morning to meet up with me and i don’t know… i just ended up taking him back.”

Jungkook looked at you incredulously, finding it hard to believe at why you would take your cheating ex-boyfriend back and he felt himself getting furious that had him rolling his eyes at you.

“Minho cheated on you!” Jungkook raised his voice in anger as he twisted his body to face you.

“I know that I’m stupid, okay!? But he was willing to change and fix things up so i gave him a chance to redeem himself”

“Still, why would you take him back?”

You’re starting to get irritated with Jungkook’s questions that is outright making you look much more pathetic when you know that he doesn’t have to shove it in your face for you to acknowledge it but he’s pushing you to level with his anger and you’re afraid you can’t bite back your tongue anymore.

“It’s because I loved him and I knew that from the moment I found myself feeling guilty when I kissed you, wishing it was him instead of you”, you said only for you to widen your eyes as you cover your mouth in shock.

In that instant, Jungkook’s felt his anger subside into dejection, leaving him speechless and you knew that you had to act fast to explain to him that you’ve just said those words out of anger when you saw that he was about to hop off the swing.

“I didn’t mean to say that”, you held him back by grabbing his arm.

“Then you probably didn’t mean to say that you love me”, Jungkook hopped off as he walked in long strides to get back inside and be just out of here just like what he originally wanted.

“Jungkook, please just hear me out one last time” you pleaded desperately as you stood in front of him, blocking him from opening that sliding door.

“What more do you have to say?” Jungkook scorned.

“Me and Minho just lasted for a week before i called it quits-” you tried to deliver your point as fast as possible before he tries to get away one more time but Jungkook is just persistent to not listen at all although it’s not like you could blame him for being that way – you broke his heart after all.

“Aren’t you done breaking my heart? Is it too much to ask if i’d beg for you to spare me another one?”, Jungkook creased his brows in pain, “Look, I’ve had my heart broken too many times to get used to it but you – you’re like all of my past heartbreaks combined perhaps even worse.”

It was evident that you’re completely floored at his statement and Jungkook took the chance to sidestep you but you were quick to snap out of it as you stubbornly took a hold of his hand to drag him towards the middle of Sunwoo’s backyard.

“Jungkook, please just-”, you sighed as you let the tears you’ve been trying to hold back stream down your face, “Please just hear me out.”

Jungkook softened at the sight of you crying, wanting to wipe the tears off of your face but he reminded himself that he needed to stand his ground thus he crossed his arms as he waited for you to collect yourself and speak up.

“I broke up with Minho because I realized that he’s not going to change no matter how much i’ll ask him to but that’s not the only thing I fail to realize”, you wiped your tears as you shake off your nerves but the sound of your voice cracking gave you away, “I love you, Jungkook and i might’ve realized that a bit late but that doesn’t mean i love you any less.”

You cried even more as you try to push out all of the words you’ve kept inside onto the table, partially scared at how much you’re letting Jungkook know all of your raw emotions but you’re done letting your worries about love control you, not when it had caused a lot of damage not only to you but to Jungkook.

“I love you not because i owe to return it back but because you care so much for me and i can see it in the little things you do like when you rushed towards my building just because i was crying over a bad presentation i did or how you always check up on me whenever i tweet something cryptic even though most of the time I’m just frustrated over a game of Candy Crush”, you chuckled midway, remembering how you tweeted an ‘i give up’ and seconds later, Jungkook is up on your messages, asking how you are when in fact, you’re just ‘giving up’ because you can’t move on to the next level.

You sniffled as you smiled, standing closer to Jungkook to cup one side of his face onto your hand, looking at him intently with fondness written all over your eyes, “In all seriousness, I do love you because you taught and showed me what love is supposed to look like.”

Jungkook grabbed your hand off of his face as he also grabbed your other, enclosing them around with his hands, looking down at it as if he’s trying to contemplate first the whole thing which makes it more unnerving for you, wondering if you’ve come forward to lay your true feelings down perhaps a little bit too late.

“Y/N, I appreciate those words, I truly do but I hope you’re not just saying that because you see me as a rebound”, Jungkook laid out his concern as he let go of your hands.              

“You’re not a rebound, Jungkook” you widen your eyes, taking his hands back in yours as you try to convince him to believe your words.

With a somber smile, Jungkook squeezed your hands, “Don’t expect me to be the only one picking up the pieces, you should also be able to do it for yourself and not just me. I need you to be able to say that again when you’re completely whole.”

“What are you trying to say? Have I already lost you?” you said as your lips quivered.

Jungkook shook his head, thumb swiping over your cheeks to wipe your tears, “Even though you’ve broken my heart, you won’t lose me and that won’t ever happen because i’d still love you with all of my pieces.”

Overwhelmed, you headed straight towards Jungkook’s arms, causing him to step back with the sudden force as you hugged him tightly, relieved to hear that you weren’t too late after all.

“I’m so sorry Jungkook for everything, really and I swear that I'll build myself up first” you whispered as happy tears still managed to flow.

Jungkook kissed the top of your head, glad to hear you’re willing to do the best thing for yourself. He figured that diving into this relationship right away will just cause harm for the both of you, considering you still have a lot of things to figure out for yourself. You just have to take things slowly until the both of you eventually get there.

“I guess we'd have to invite eomma to our wedding, hm?” Jungkook suggested as he looked down on you.

“Is that a proposal?” you chuckled as you wiped your tear stained cheeks, creating a space between you although you’ve still kept your arms around his shoulders.

“How about a promise?” Jungkook raised his pinky finger.

“A promise then,” you giggled as you wrapped your pinky against his while you pulled him in by the shoulders, sealing the deal officially with a chaste kiss and a smile on both of your faces as you enveloped each other once again in an embrace.

You stayed like that for a little while, swaying each other side to side as you try to bask in each other’s warmth full of contentment, knowing full too well that all of those heartbreaks and pains you went through is meant to lead you to this exact moment and that concludes the story of how two lonely hearts who have lost their way in love have finally found each other.

--

A/N: Hi! It’s been a while since I last posted but here you go hehe although i have to say that i’ll be writing in a much slower pace from now on since i’ve become really busy irl and there’s just a lot going on, mentally speaking. I’ll still post stories from time to time though not as regularly as I used to so please look forward to my other ones in the future :)

P.S.: This is for you, Onigiri.

[kaypeace21]

Analyzing the 5 plays in this drama club poster .From the bts pics of stranger things 4.

So... some of ya’ll know I'm going through the st s4 films given to us by the official st twitter + the films reffed in the show itself or mentioned by the Duffers in interviews .

So I decided to look at the plays mentioned here. Because even if we don't see the monologues in the show directly - the Duffers wouldn't name drop anything unless it inspired them in some way. Similar to films name dropped in the show. Tw : for some dark themes .

This is just a quick little analysis I decided to do since we probably won't get any new st content today (3/22). Nothing too deep. Just mentioning things that caught my interest especially cause these plays have a lot of narrative connections to the st s4 movies I've been watching.

Invitation to a march (Authur laurents)

Reminds me of the stancy/jancy love triangle. "A young woman is having second thoughts about doing the right thing and marrying a respectable , rich, kind, young man with good prospects.By way of a prewedding diversion, this woman becomes interested in the passionate but poor and entirely unsuitable son of a local landlord.Basically, the plot concerns the efforts of Norma Brown to choose between a conventional fiance who "puts her to sleep" but is wealthy (like what her own mother did) or go for this new-poor guy. The play is principally interested in how this youthful love triangle affects the three mothers involved (whether the kids like it or not)

12th night (Shakespeare)

 - viola (el) wrongly assumes a family member (hopper) is dead. She dresses up as a man named 'cesario'. A girl named Olivia falls for 'cesario' (violet dressed as a man). "Finally, when 'Cesario' and Sebastian (violet's twin brother: assumed to have drowned - Will) appear in the presence of Olivia there is more wonder and confusion at their physical similarity. Taking Sebastian for 'Cesario', Olivia asks him to marry her, and they are secretly married in a church. Cough if Olivia is 'straight' cause she fell for Viola (as a doppleganger dressed like her twin brother).Mike being into el who multiple characters in s1 said looked like a boy and specifically like Will is...suspish and a hint he's not straight lol. just like Olivia they're both into guys . plus, this play just has a butt load of love triangles (ugh i hated that aspect). There was also romantically coded letters (which was in the s4 films) . One character is also thrown into an insane asylum and framed as 'insane'.'Pretending that Malvolio is insane, they lock him up in a dark chamber. Feste visits him to mock his insanity'. We all know the psych hospital will be narratively important- talked about it more here.

The seagull (Anton Chekhov-russian)

similar to how I believed s4 will show m*#even already broken up since the months between s3-4 : act 3 (s3) ends with Nina begging for one last chance to be with Trigorin before he leaves/moves away. They kiss and make plans to meet again in Moscow.And in act 4 there's a timeskip where it shows they've been broken up for a long time between acts- and its established they never actually loved eachother. Do i even have to spell out why this parallels the m*#even ending in s3? There is also a play within the play (this is common in a lot of the st films- they have plays- or a story within a story- which illustrate certain themes or emotions of the characters within said film : blackswan, children of paradise, highschool musical, Rushmore, book of Henry, welcome to marwen, never ending story, romancing the stone, wet hot American summer, etc).The play is Konstantin's latest attempt at creating a dense symbolist work. There is also alot of love triangles in the seagull. TW!: for se#ual ab*se/su*cidal thoughts/ inc*st (here and in other play segments). The seagull motif reminds me a lot of Jonathan's rabbit story.Konstantin romantically into Nina shows up to give her a gull that he has shot. Nina is confused and horrified . Trigorin sees the gull that Konstantin has shot and muses to Nina on how he could use it as a subject for a short story: "The plot for the short story: a young girl lives all her life on the shore of a lake. She loves the lake, like a gull, and she's happy and free, like a gull. But a man arrives by chance, and when he sees her, he destroys her, out of sheer boredom. Like this gull."  This immediately reminded me of jon's rabbit story and some of the movies on the s4 list . Like in forrest gump- Jenny (who is poor) was se*ually ab*sed as a very young girl by her father. As a child she runs away into a field-away from her alcoholic father yelling at her -there she prays that she can "be a bird so I can fly far far away" .

Jenny as an adult struggles with this unresolved trauma- being with ab*sive partners, doing dr*gs, and having su*cidal thoughts . She as an adult when contemplating su*icide, jokes 'you think i can fly like a bird ?' while looking down at a bridge.God-i'm worried about jonathan (Jenny was also a musician sort of like jon). In another s4 movie example ' mystic river ' :(in the 80s) a preteen baseball playing boy is r*ped by men in the woods. He later says he wishes he could become an undead monster to not feel the pain of that experience - cause quote " if I'm not human anymore maybe the pain will stop" (Will) . slightly off topic but he also has another personality, imagines a alternate word that dissappears when he turns his head. And as a less direct animal parallel to the play - the boy from the film also imagined his perpetrators as monsters and wolves to cope.In 'getout' the photographer character sees a dead deer in the woods and it represents a parent/his own childhood tra*ma relating to his past. similarly in 'prince of tides' the 2 siblings as kids were ra*ed by men. The older brother remembered it and the younger sibling developed DID (so didn't remember but she would draw wolves- as the perpetrators/villains in her picture stories she created . In the film they also had an ab*sive dad and were very poor. She also tried k*ling herself multiple times-but started to get better after remembering the source of her pain and trauma.  There is also the theme of multiple attempted su*cides in the play- and the play ends with yet another attempt- and the audience is left unaware of the artist's fate at the end of the play.

The tempest (Shakespeare)

Prospereo - (the perceived antagonist) is a wizard with monstrous looks, storm powers , and ability to create monster-dogs

He wants revenge on a man who tried ra*ing his family member & revenge on his other family member who wronged him years ago. I mean... pretty much my did theory.But in the end.Prospero decides to show his enemies the mercy that they did not show him twelve years earlier. He tells Ariel to bring the men to him, he will restore their sanity and then renounce magic forever.Prospero breaks the spell that the men are under .

Diary of a scoundrel (Alexander Ostrovsky-Russian)

-  I suppose this could loosely relate to Jonathan? Glumov, is a young man from an impoverished family lacking status seeking entrance into society's pampered class. A 19th-century Russian scoundrel must scheme his way out of his meager life in a small apartment -whatever it takes.He has a quick mind and some talent for seeing through the hypocrisies of people around him ( Jonathan does make a lot of social critiques about society). That gives him some advantages. A tale of one man's mission to finagle his way into upper-class society and find a cushy job. Set in 1874, this social comedy follows Glumov, a Russian youth who begins his ambitious ascent to social esteem. He progresses by wit, guile and rhetoric. Pitting one stupid person against another, he soon gains his ends. To reach these goals, Glumov will lie, flatter, and cater to the vanities of the wealthy. Unable to contain his disgust with his victims, Glumov decides to relieve his unvoiced satirical comments by recording his schemes in a diary. But he is tripped up by his uncle's wife, to whom he has made passionate love on his way to success. At the end of the play, his diary is stolen and his duplicity exposed, but he can nevertheless suceeds. The author is much more critical about the high society itself than about the main character, so the play keeps attracting generations of directors by opening possibilities for political criticism while also avoiding naming names of the current rulers.The play's aim was to overthrow bourgeois tradition and establish a class-conscious art called eccentricism giving a deliberately comic portrayal of reality.

I suppose I notice some possible commonalities-  besides s3 critiquing the wealthy/capitalism in comedic ways . jonathan since s1 has worried about his family's finances / had some resentment toward the rich . In some of the s4 movies ‘orphan’ & ‘ girl interrupted’ someone reads their diary out loud to get at them (in girl interrupted the winona character’s diary even had critiques of her new friends).  Alot of movies also have someone (usually a teen/young adult) making a documentary about their life -which could narratively replace said diary? A few movies have a poor guy adjusting to snobby rich social circles (or being poor and then getting money)- titanic, kingsmen, karate kid, the craft , godfather,  wardogs,into the spiderverse,flashdance, and many others . And movies like wardogs has a poor-young-character do shady things to finacially support his family . There’s also that whole uncle’s wife thing- which makes me uncomfortable for obvious reasons (but I’m just thinking of Lonnie’s creepy gf who was into him). A few movies had the guy’s step mom innappropriately hit on him- orange county & you got mail. And him trying to avoid her advances. Or...not to mention ... it may be a problematic coincidence /trope. But in enter the void -the guy who needs to finacially support his sibling/ does dr*gs -hooks up with his dr*g dealing friend’s married mom (who would give him money).  Or in gilbert grape- the poor teen-who has to finacially support his siblings/single mom-has his endgame relationship be a girl his own age. But before that he h*oked up with a married woman -who would give him money. Don’s plum -young film guy-propositioned by older female film director (for dream job). Not even mentioning the other films that have the guy hooking up with toxic older women (like ‘the graduate’). Or analyze this-where the therapist accuses him of having an Oedipus complex (not touching that one... but the guy in ‘enter the void’ a 100% had one). It’s possible those movies were just- inspo for s3?  A coincidence? Or s3 was foreshadowing for this in s4- but unlike s3 it will accurately be played as wrong  and a sign of Jonathan recreating past tra*ma caused by Lonnie (cough like the photos) /being desperate for money. And not played ‘comedically’ like how it mostly was in s3. But shown as self destructive  (for Jon) and immoral on the Woman’s end. Like... Billy and Jon are character foils. Both are older siblings into rock music, with ab*sive dads who shoved them into walls. Both lose it (and beat steve to a pulp when Steve accidentally triggers their daddy issues). In s3 it’s established womanizer Billy has mommy issues, than he tries ho*king up with someone his mom’s age, and the characters ref ‘back to the future ‘ and Steve incorrectly says it’s about “alex p keaton trying to bang his mom.” This could illustrate his subconscious issues with parental figures/adults cause of Lonnie’s  possible past se*ual ab*se . One film the friend even says to the guy “you don’t have friends!” guy b: i have friends! him:  no you have acquaintances! ADMIT IT! YOU’RE AFRAID OF MEN!I mean-Jonathan liked Nancy- but he initially hooked up with her cause he wanted to prove he didn’t have ‘trust issues’ from his dad. Also it’s prob a bit of a reach (and maybe a coincidence)- but the fact Murray in the same breath compares Steve (Nancy’s then bf) and Lonnie  ... uh... if you think too long about it ... it’s very sinister .  Especially because in s3: muray tells Joyce  that despite her wanting to be with a nice guy, she’s curious about “the brute” Hopper despite him reminding her of a past “bad relationship”(aka Lonnie). Like- yeah connect some dots.  Quite a few films (other than forrest gump) also have the character who (as a kid) was  r*ped by their dad/parent-  begin to do dr*gs/be pr*miscuous as adults since they never learned to properly cope with their trauma (’girl with the dragon tattoo’,  ‘black swan’, and ‘magnolia’). Unfortunately the whole relative doing such things to kid-relatives is in at least 30+ movies. 

Personally, i would be MUCH happier if Jon had a age appropriate romance- and had not a single creepy adult near him. A few movies actually imply Lonnie gets yet another ‘new model’  replacing his gf in her 20s with a new gf- who is ‘barely l*gal” and just turned 18. so there’s that possibility as well- that she’s jonathan’s age.I just want Jonathan-happy &safe. GOD. IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK?

[raingoup]

Stray Dogs

I started getting into the habit of reading comics again. I read a few as a kid, my favorites were Groo and The Punisher. Then manga came to my life, and I haven't gone back to comics until just recently. I'm disappointed that it's taken me this long as there's a lot that caught my eye such as Usagi Yojimbo, All Star Superman, and Something is Killing the Children.

Then there's the comic I'll be raving about today: Stray Dogs.

Compared to the rest of the comics mentioned earlier, Stray Dogs completely threw me off. Not an easy feat to pull off when my most vivid memory of The Punisher was when he interrogated a Russian slaver by hanging his intestines around trees and Something is Killing the Children very much delivers its promise of killing children with extreme prejudice.

I don't remember All Dogs Go to Heaven at all, but Silence of the Lambs with dogs is an insane concept that immediately caught my attention as well as what it says in the back of the book:

"A HEARTBREAKINGLY ADORABLE SUSPENSE THRILLER BY MY LITTLE PONY COMIC ARTISTS TONY FLEECS AND TRISH FORSTNER."

I have little experience with My Little Pony aside from an unfortunate contact with the darkest deepest corner of the fandom; in spite of that, however, I am a little curious if the comics are secretly dark and macabre as this story or if Tony Fleecs and Trish Forstner just decided to go balls deep with what they could get away with.

Now the story of Stray Dogs is... very difficult to talk about. It's better to go in without spoilers. Even though Silence of the Lambs x All Dogs Go to Heaven on the front cover sort of gives it away, there's still a lot of punch in its storytelling and art. It starts with the main character, Sophie, getting a shot at the vet and suddenly waking up at a stranger's house in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of dogs with no memory of whatsoever. It sounds like a typical amnesiac story, but a big running plot point that remains relevant is that dogs have short-term memory.

I have read this twice now and there's still new cool details I missed the first time. The pace does a great job with a steady start, an intriguing rising action that ramps up to a fantastic finale. It helps that this is a mini-series that ends on a high note before it goes stale.

The art style is clean. It's a vivid palette that dances between muted and dark. A particular favorite panel of mine is when a glare from a person's glasses overpowers everything else that's happening; it's one of the rare instances where high brightness is involved. It also amuses me that a lot of dogs in the story are reminiscent from other stories. 101 Dalmatians is an obvious one as well as Beethoven, Oliver and Company, The Fox and The Hound, etc.

There's more I wish to talk about, but doing so would involve spoiling, and this story is absolutely best experienced going in blind. It's so good, even my local comic shop is having a book club meeting on it. There's a second book on Stray Dogs called Dog Days that I haven't read yet. If it's as masterful as this one, then I will be sure to rave about it here in due time.

[eddieeatsass]

On the Edge of an Avalanche

Summary: Graduation was upon them and Eddie Kaspbrak was eager to leave Derry behind. His one last hurrah would be the senior ski trip, earning him an escape from his mother and the looming stress of college admissions. It was supposed to be a relaxing vacation, until he got slated to look after resident pain-in-everyone’s-ass, Richie Tozier. Pairing: Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak Rating: E Chapter: 4/5 Read Chapter 3 Here  /  Read on AO3

Richie’s room was nicer than Eddie’s, way nicer. It’s not that Eddie’s room was bad, in fact he’d spent a good amount of time admiring it earlier, it’s just that Eddie’s room was like the discount version, and Richie’s was designer. Where Eddie’s room had gotten tall windows, half of Richie’s wall was taken up by a fireplace. Eddie supposed it was a trade, someone who preferred a nicer view might say Eddie’s room was the winner, but there was something undeniably romantic about your own fireplace. Richie’s room also seemed to have a newer TV, mounted on the wall across from their bed. The TV in Eddie’s room was older and hid behind two panels of wood in a cabinet. Simply put, Eddie was very glad Richie had decided to bring them here. Richie flopped on the bed immediately, overdramatizing how exhausted he was just from limping his way down the hall. Eddie hid a knowing smile and joined him. “Thank you for saving me, I was about five minutes away from dying of boredom.” Richie drawled. “Well, I can’t promise you’ll have any more fun here, but you’re welcome. ”Richie let his head loll to the side, regarding Eddie closely before speaking again. “No, I’ll definitely have more fun here. ”The insinuation was brash, Richie didn’t even bother trying to hide it behind a joke. It made Eddie’s gut clench in unusual ways. He brought his thumb up to his mouth, the habit of gnawing at his fingernails a hard one to kick, but was interrupted by his own gasp as his hand came into view. His knuckles were starting to bruise, tender to flex and even more tender to touch. He hadn’t noticed any pain earlier, too caught up in Richie to even think about anything else, but now that he was staring at his fist the ache began to echo under his skin. “You just notice that?” Richie asked gently, noting the horror in Eddie’s eyes. Eddie could only nod, his gaze fixed on the evidence of his breakdown. He wasn’t sure how long he stared at his hand, but when Richie’s entered the frame Eddie startled. He’d gotten a hand towel from the bathroom and wrapped some ice in it, which Eddie could only guess was provided in their minifridge. Richie guided Eddie’s hand down to his lap, placing the ice pack atop his knuckles gently and murmuring an apology when Eddie hissed at the sudden coldness. They stayed silent for a few minutes, simply sitting in each other’s presence as the ice dampened the cloth atop Eddie’s hand. Eddie was the first to speak, keeping his eyes downcast as he admitted his guilt aloud. “I’m not a violent person, you know.” He could feel Richie’s eyes on his face but didn’t give in to the lure. “Yeah, I know.” Richie reassured. “But Bowers is an exception-”“No, he’s not.” Eddie snapped. “If I sink to his level, I’m just like him.” Eddie wasn’t sure if Richie would get it. They had both been targets of Henry’s attacks, but Eddie never wanted anyone to feel the way he’d felt, not even Henry himself. Eddie’s mind was constantly replaying all the times he'd had his face shoved into the dirt, the way the gravel would stick to his wounds, the shouts he’d receive from his mother upon getting home. Henry was a god-awful human, but that didn’t mean he deserved to feel that same pain and sorrow. That wasn’t going to change anything; you can’t break the cycle with the same bullshit that fueled it. “I didn’t mean to do it.” Eddie whispered. “I just snapped.” Richie immediately scooted closer, an action Eddie wasn’t expecting or prepared for. He looked up and met bright blue eyes, tender and open and completely void of judgement. “You’re nothing like him; you didn’t want to hurt him. Bowers wants to hurt people. ”Eddie looked back down at his hand, flexing his fingers and watching as the makeshift ice pack slid off and landed on the sheets. “You know…” Eddie began thinking out loud. “I’ve felt the brunt of a lot of people’s insecurities. I don’t usually mind being projected on, it’s easy to see through the words and figure out what’s actually going on behind them. I’ve even gotten good at doing it with Henry, though he’s a bit of a different breed… But there was something about the things he said today... they felt more personal.” Richie listened intently, allowing Eddie to spill out into the space between them, his vulnerability a tender wound. “Whatever, it’s stupid.” Eddie was quick to dismiss his own feelings, covering them up with a shrug of his shoulders that attempted to pass as indifference. “It’s not stupid.” Richie insisted. Eddie stared down at his uninjured hand as it picked at a thread on the blanket beneath them. “Listen, I don't know what Henry said, but you're not suddenly a super villain for fighting back one time. The first time I was called a fag, I threw a mug at the dude’s head.” Richie admitted aloud with a chuckle. “We were in a coffee shop and I was on my first date with a guy. I ended up having to pay for the broken mug and my backtalk. ”Eddie perked up like Richie had just given him a straight shot of smelling salts. All other sound in the room fell away as Eddie homed in on Richie’s voice, trying to discern if he was dreaming or not. “Safe to say it was not a very good first impression.” Richie laughed lightly, completely unaware of the way he was flipping Eddie’s world upside down. “Anyway, all I’m trying to say is you’re not the only one who’s lost their cool before. You’re human, you’re allowed to get upset when people treat you less than.” Eddie was sure Richie was making a good point, was sure what he was saying held some wisdom that could potentially help, but he was guilty to say he hadn’t processed a word of it. He was too caught up on the fact that Richie had dated guys before. Stan’s words echoed in his brain ‘You might want to consider the possibility that this isn’t their first time eating a hot dog’, fucking Stan was always right, even with that stupid metaphor. Richie had begun talking again, but Eddie didn’t hesitate to interrupt him, this new revelation too significant to pass by. “You like boys?” Eddie blurted out, all grace and subtlety left behind with his spiraling thoughts. Richie froze in place, his hands up in a gesture Eddie was sure had something to do with what he’d been talking about, but now looked comically out of place. Slowly, Richie lowered his hands to his lap and regarded Eddie with a new look, one that held enough cockiness to knock the wind out of Eddie. “Grinding my dick on you didn’t send the message?” Richie teased, raising one eyebrow and swiping his tongue across his teeth. Eddie suppressed a full body shiver, averting his eyes from Richie’s intensity. “I thought you were maybe, like, I don’t know-” “This ain’t my first rodeo, cowboy.” Richie said with a twang that went straight to Eddie’s pants. He blamed Brokeback Mountain. “Well, it isn’t mine either.” Eddie defended instinctively. He watched as Richie’s eyes flicked down to his mouth and back up again, quick like a hummingbird and with all the same charm. “So, then what’s the issue?” Richie’s voice had lowered, taking on something much more intimate and sultry. It made Eddie’s heart rate spike. “I guess there isn’t one.” He breathed. “Good, because I’ve been wanting to do this all day.” Eddie barely had a moment to breathe before Richie captured his lips in a hungry kiss, his hand burying itself in the hair at Eddie’s nape to pull him in closer. The gesture almost made Eddie go limp, as if he were a cat being held by its scruff, submissive by instinct. He opened his mouth pliantly, allowing Richie in with a welcome of his own tongue. Eddie couldn’t believe that this was happening. Just a couple hours ago he was fisting his own cock, fantasizing about the way Richie tasted. Now he knew. Richie was a cold fire, stoking Eddie’s lungs with mint and cinnamon spice. He tasted like the frost outside, and the embers that kept you warm. It was comforting, enveloping in a way Eddie couldn’t describe. Eddie pushed against Richie, guiding him to lay down on his back so Eddie could climb atop his lap, resuming the same position they’d been in the night before. This time, however, there was clear determination between them. There were no longer hesitant touches or swallowed moans, every move was purposeful, made with intent. Eddie wasn’t shy to shed his sweater, wanting to move things along as quickly as possible now that they were finally happening. “Your body, god, do you know how long I’ve been wanting to get my hands on you?” Richie grabbed Eddie’s bare waist in near disbelief, awe shining in his eyes. “Less than 24 hours?” Eddie snorted, rolling his eyes and his hips in tandem. Richie groaned and tightened his grip, stilling Eddie forcefully. “Try years. You think I didn’t notice you until Mrs. Harrow forced us to sit together?” Eddie flushed even hotter, his skin reddening to match the fire that Richie was stoking. Richie grinned at Eddie’s speechlessness, pushing forward. “I noticed you for the first time in sophomore year. You were trying out for the track team at the same time as Mike and we were in the bleachers cheering him on. I was gone the second you walked out onto that grass. I tried to be respectful, but I couldn’t stop imagining myself squeezed between those thighs that your tight little track shorts did a great job of highlighting.” Eddie tried to recall that moment, tried to visualize Richie in the bleachers with his floppy hair and lopsided glasses, but all he could remember was the adrenaline he’d felt going behind his mother’s back, too busy to notice anything else. “I never stopped noticing you after that, in fact I’m surprised you never caught me looking your way during class…” Richie moved his hands to begin trailing up Eddie’s thighs. “But the second time I really noticed you, was at the end of that school year. We had a heat wave and the AC broke, d’you remember that? The school had no idea how to deal with it, so they just chucked us outside and gave us popsicles from the freezer in the cafeteria, probably because they were going to melt anyway. But you sat there in the middle of the field sucking on your popsicle like it was the best fucking thing you’d ever tasted. You might have been miserable like the rest of us, but you were too focused on your treat to pay any mind to the weather.” Eddie’s throat was going dry, his head beginning to feel light and airy as he listened to Richie talk. “That night I dreamt you were sucking my cock, that same euphoric look on your face as if it were that damn popsicle.” Richie’s hands reached Eddie’s hips and traced the curve around to his ass, causing Eddie to stutter a breath as his eyelashes fluttered against his cheekbones. “I’ve thought about fucking you for years, Eds, to see you cum on my cock and hear you cry my name. I would do just about anything you asked me to, just as long as I can make you feel good.” Eddie had never been this aroused in his life. Every single nerve in his body was buzzing like a live wire, his toes already curling just from Richie’s words alone. “What if I asked you to take your clothes off?” Eddie braved, his voice shaky. Richie sat up, bringing them chest to chest. “Anything. You. Asked.” Richie punctuated each word with a featherlight kiss to Eddie’s lips. The butterflies in Eddie’s stomach went wild as he watched Richie begin to strip off his shirt. He did it slowly, keeping his eyes on Eddie as Eddie’s own raked down the newly exposed skin. Richie's skin was pale enough to rival the snow outside, spattered with fewer freckles than Eddie’s, but enough to break up the milky complexion. He was thin but still held definition, especially as Eddie’s eyes reached the ‘v’ of his hips that dipped into his waistband. Eddie swallowed thickly and nodded towards the spot where Richie’s hands were already hovering over his waistband. Eddie had to swing his leg off Richie and move to the side to let him shimmy his pants down his legs, every new inch equally as mesmerizing. “Like what you see?” Richie’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Not sure yet, I think I need to see more.” Eddie whispered back, tension thick between them. Eddie could see where Richie was straining against the fabric of his boxers, tenting them to an intimidating level. The way his mouth watered at the sight made Eddie feel absolutely depraved, lewd in a way that only added to his arousal, made him want to spread his legs wide and offer himself up whole. The moment that stretched between them as Richie pulled his boxers down felt like an eternity. Eddie lived, died, and got reborn all in the span of that second. Richie’s cock was heavy, springing free for only a moment before falling back against his stomach. Eddie could see Richie moving in his peripheral, getting comfortable back against the duvet after throwing his boxers to the floor, but he couldn’t tear his eyes off his dick. He felt fingers carding through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead, and finally Eddie tore his gaze away from the challenge that sat before him. Richie’s smile was smug, but his eyes seemed vulnerable. Eddie realized he was waiting for his next command, unsure how they’d fallen into that pattern but not opposed to continuing it. Eddie felt powerful as he raised on his haunches and moved to where Richie’s legs were spread. He watched Richie’s face, noted the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed, and his fingers twitched as he tried not to move. Eddie lowered his head so it was level with Richie’s cock, pausing just a few inches away so his breath grazed against it as he spoke. “Fuck my mouth.” Eddie directed, lust overwriting his usual nerves and replacing them with boldness. Richie’s breath shook as he let it out slowly. “Jesus fuck, Eddie…”Richie’s hands travelled back into Eddie’s hair, gentle at first and then gripping at the base. He guided Eddie’s head the rest of the way down and shuttered when Eddie finally took the head in his mouth. Eddie instantly felt intoxicated, like Richie was the strongest absinthe man had ever made. He greedily gulped it down, laving at the underside of Richie’s cock as it glided into his throat. Drool was already pooling at the corners of his mouth, but Eddie paid it no mind, his only focus on drinking in as much of Richie as he could. He knew right away there was no reality in which he could take all of Richie at once, at least not without a lot of practice, so he committed his mouth to the top half and his hand to the bottom. His fingers barely met as they wrapped around Richie’s shaft and gave an experimental pump. Richie groaned, and Eddie took it as a good sign. He repeated the motion with a twist of his wrist, tonguing the slit of his cock where precum was leaking out greedily. Eddie could feel Richie’s legs tensing where he had his free hand splayed across his thigh. Every time he teased the underside of Richie’s head that muscle would jump, and it almost became a game to see how quickly Eddie could make that muscle twitch, his tongue moving faster and faster against that sensitive spot and causing Richie's legs to vibrate. “Oh my god- fuck, ahhhh-h-how are you so good at this…” Richie’s voice was wrecked, raspy and low and breathy all at once. Eddie just hummed in acknowledgement, sending vibrations up Richie’s shaft that made him hump up into Eddie’s mouth. The action caused Eddie to gag and he reveled in it, moaning like a whore in heat. He was so far gone he barely noticed when Richie pulled him off suddenly. “Okay you’re too good at that.” Richie panted, his chest heaving. Eddie’s head was cloudy, the only conscious thought chanting ‘more, more, more’. He blinked a few times, trying to shift the room back into place. “Why did we stop?” Eddie asked dumbly, his words a bit slurred. “I didn’t want to cum yet. I sort of thought… maybe, if you wanted to, we could-” “Finger me.” Eddie blurted out, his senses coming back to him but not all gracefully. “I mean…” He cleared his throat, face beginning to flush. “…please." Richie looked liked he’d just won the lottery and been slapped across the face at the same time, a dopey kind of smile accompanying his features. “You don’t have to be polite about it, Eds. I’m kinda digging this whole dictator thing you’ve got going on, actually.” Eddie giggled adoringly, calmed by the way Richie was able to dissolve his nerves so quickly with such a disastrously dumb joke, even at a time like this. “Gimme a sec.” Richie leaned forward, catching Eddie’s lips in a chaste kiss before he was springing off the bed. “I know that bastard has lube somewhere.” Eddie watched as Richie began searching through what he assumed to be Bill’s suitcase, throwing things to the side in a frenzy. He finally came across a toiletry bag and ripped it open, rifling around for only a moment more and emerging with a small bottle of clear liquid. “Will Bill mind if we use it?” Eddie worried his lip between his teeth, not so much caring about the answer but asking anyway out of respect for his new friend. “Nah, he’ll just be happy I’m getting laid.” Richie winked and those damn butterflies acted up again. Richie crawled back onto the bed, setting the lube to the side temporarily. He returned his attention to Eddie, a renewed twinkle in his lust blown eyes. He crowded Eddie’s space, towering above him but lowering his head so their lips grazed against each other. “Let’s get these off, hmm?” Richie’s fingers stroked lightly at the waistband of Eddie’s sweatpants. “I thought I was the one giving orders.” Eddie teased back, voice barely above a whisper. Richie hooked his fingers under the waistband and pulled, letting it snap back against Eddie’s stomach as he released it with a shuttering breath. “Alright Kaspbrak.” Richie let his body fall backwards, bouncing lighting as it hit the mattress. He brought his hands up behind his head and made a show of getting comfortable. “I am at your mercy.” That same emboldened feeling consumed him once again, a confidence only Richie seemed to instill in him. It was intoxicating, much like everything else about Richie. With a smirk, Eddie backed up off the bed and stood in the middle of the room. Eddie kept his eyes focused on Richie as he began to pull his sweatpants down, going painstakingly slow just to see Richie’s reaction. He saw his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed back his desire, a nearly imperceptible twitch making his cock jump in intrigue. Eddie kicked his pants to the side where they joined his long since discarded sweater, and then all his focus diverted to his neglected cock. All earlier thoughts of whether Richie would like his body were gone, he knew Richie liked his body, and he was planning on milking that for all it was worth. Eddie palmed himself over his underwear, letting his head fall back and his mouth drop open as he finally offered himself the stimulation he needed. He looked down and noted that the white fabric had gone translucent where his cock had been leaking against it, giving Richie a peek of the pink head underneath. He heard Richie whimper from the bed but paid him no mind, indulging in his own senses for a moment. He continued to tease himself through the thin cloth until he couldn’t take any more, finally allowing his hands to wander to the waistband and pull the underwear down his thighs. Richie was silent, watching so attentively that a pin could be heard dropping in the room. Eddie kicked the last piece of clothing off to the side and immediately let his hand wander back to his own cock, tugging it a few times and allowing himself to moan at the sensation. He heard the bed squeak and opened his eyes to see Richie crawling towards him. Gone was Richie’s passiveness and submission, replaced with a new hunger that made Eddie’s legs quiver. Richie reached his arms out and pulled Eddie in until his legs hit the edge of the mattress. Even with Eddie standing and Richie kneeling on the bed, he was still a good few inches taller than him, and he used that to his advantage while crowding into Eddie’s space. “You can’t tease me like that.” Richie whispered into the shell of his ear, kissing right under it and beginning a path down his neck. “I didn’t mean to.” Eddie answered honestly, succumbing to the warmth of Richie’s lips and letting his head tip back once again. “Just felt so good…” “I can make you feel even better.” Richie promised, ghosting his hand down Eddie’s torso and just barely grazing his cock. Eddie moaned, arching into the faint touch and whimpering as it left. “Please…” Eddie’s jaw was slack, the word falling out without a thought. Richie continued making his way down Eddie’s body, sucking marks against tan skin as he passed. He paused at Eddie’s nipples to give them special attention and Eddie keened, grabbing at Richie’s hair in sudden desperation. Richie swirled his tongue around one bud, allowing his hand to pluck the other until he switched. He nipped lightly enough to cause Eddie to shutter and then sucked to soothe the reddening skin. He continued his trail downwards, licking along Eddie’s hip bones and kissing the juncture between his thighs and his pelvis, avoiding Eddie’s cock purposefully. Pleas were falling from Eddie’s mouth steadily now; his hands tugging weakly on Richie’s hair to try and guide him towards pleasure. Richie swiftly gathered Eddie in his arms, catching him off guard in his haze of lust. He moved back up the mattress and laid against the bed board, situating Eddie so he was laying across his body. “I bet your pretty little hole is just begging to be touched.” Richie murmured, reaching for the bottle of lube and hastily pouring a generous amount on his digits. Eddie moaned at the lewdness of the comment, his hips moving against Richie’s and causing their cocks to grind against each other. He could feel a wetness smearing against their bellies, similar to the wetness Richie was spreading between his fingers. He watched as Richie’s hand disappeared behind him and then he felt the warm press of a finger at his entrance. The feeling was somewhat familiar; Eddie had fingered himself countless times before, he wasn’t new to pleasuring his prostate. But this was the first time anyone else had ever touched him there. It was difficult not to focus in on every small sensation, to not grind up against Richie like a virgin being touched for the first time. Richie teased the pad of his finger around his rim and unsurprisingly, Eddie fluttered in response. He could hear Richie’s laugh reverberating in his chest where Eddie laid his head. He closed his eyes and spread his legs a bit wider, silently ushering Richie to continue. The first slip inside was uncomfortable. It always is, no matter how turned on you are, but it was also euphoric in a way Eddie was never able to make it for himself. Richie’s fingers were thinner than Eddie’s, but significantly longer, and soon enough Richie was already in to his knuckle. Eddie breathed steadily, allowing his body to get used to the intrusion. Richie followed his queue, stilling for a moment until Eddie nodded minutely against him, signaling him to continue. The next finger wasn’t too much harder than the first, and soon the discomfort ebbed away to make room for pleasure. Richie worked his fingers in and out, scissoring them to stretch Eddie open as much as possible before a third was added. It felt way better than Eddie had ever imagined it would. Richie’s fingers weren’t clumsy or unsure like Eddie would have thought, they were precise with their pressure and quick to find the spots that made Eddie melt. He went at the perfect pace, allowing Eddie his time to adjust but not waiting too long to lose their momentum. Arousal bubbled hot in Eddie’s stomach, searing his skin at every spot where they were connected. His breathing had become labored, and his hips had begun their own little rotation where he ground himself down into Richie. Every time he did, he felt Richie’s cock twitching against his, eager to escape the slot between them and burry itself inside Eddie. And in that moment, Eddie wanted that more than anything. “Fuck me, now.” Eddie demanded breathily, holding no more space for patience. “You sure you’re ready?” Richie checked, his own breath seeming to stutter. Eddie whined indignantly, raising himself up on shaky knees and grabbing both of Richie’s wrists. He pulled them away, deft fingers slipping out of him easily and falling to the pillow beside Richie’s head where Eddie pinned them. “Now.” Eddie repeated, grinding his ass against Richie’s cock and coating it with lube. “I’m gonna die here and it’s gonna be the happiest day of my life.” Richie rushed out, eyes squeezed shut and face flushed a blotchy red. Eddie removed one hand and reached down to grasp Richie’s cock, marveling once again at its size. He was sure he was going to feel a stretch, but he craved it at this point. With determination and just a little too much arousal for rational thought, Eddie lined himself up and began sinking down. The stretch was… a lot. Eddie let out a pained whimper as Richie’s head breached his rim, and suddenly there were hands all over him, cradling his face, petting his hair, steadying his hips. “Hey, hey, you’re okay.” Richie rushed to comfort him, kissing the spot between Eddie’s eyebrows where he hadn’t realized he’d furrowed them. “We can stop at any point. You want to stop?” Eddie was stubborn, he knew this about himself. He was aware that his stubbornness had gotten him into trouble in the past, but it had also earned him some of the best moments of his life. He didn’t want to end this prematurely and look back on his first time with remorse, but he also didn’t exactly want to rip his asshole open on a high school ski trip. Eddie decided he just needed a minute, so he shook his head and told Richie as much. Richie continued to rub his back, his hair, anywhere his nervous hands could settle. He seemed on such high alert Eddie wasn't sure how his dick wasn't flagging. Eddie winced as Richie inched down the bed carefully, lying himself flatter and pulling Eddie back down to his chest. Eddie closed his eyes and focused on Richie’s heartbeat, feeling Richie moving above him but paying it no mind. He jumped in surprise when Richie’s hand joined his dick, but his body relaxed instantaneously as he felt those soft fingers begin to massage extra lube around his rim. As the seconds passed Eddie could feel himself opening up under Richie’s touch, his muscles relaxing and his temperature rising. Richie was clearly feeling the heat himself, as he’d started to rock his hips gently beneath Eddie’s. The action was gentle, inching him further into Eddie in torturously small increments but not pushing him past his limits. It was beginning to drive Eddie crazy as his craving for more became overpowering, all the pain from before having subsided. Without warning, Eddie pushed himself back on Richie’s cock, feeling his fingers flutter around his hole at the sudden movement. He was quick to use his hand to steady himself at the base of his cock, holding it still for Eddie to fuck back on. Richie let out an elongated breath, swearing profusely at the end of it. It made Eddie blush and move faster, his hips taking on a rhythm of their own. Eddie was on cloud fucking nine. His body lit up like a live wire, electrifying him with every move he made. Richie appeared to be just as affected, his mouth stuck open in an orgasmic ‘o’, his eyes practically rolled back into his skull. Richie had been quick to match Eddie’s pace, thrusting up into him feverously, hands clamped on to Eddie's hip as tightly as Eddie was clamping around his cock. "You're so fucking huge." Eddie moaned, the statement coming out honestly despite sounding like a script from a bad porno. "Holy shit, you can't say stuff like that or I'm gonna blow my load." Richie responded, chest heaving. "I'm serious, it feels like I'm being split open, god Rich." "That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble." Richie's thrusts were speeding up, becoming more erratic. Eddie almost felt like he was riding a bull, clenching his thighs in a desperate attempt not to be bucked off. "Then shut me up." The response was instantaneous. Richie flipped them over, pressing Eddie into the mattress as he pounded into him mercilessly. He brought one hand up to Eddie's mouth and shoved two fingers against his tongue, forcing Eddie to suck on the digits. Eddie gagged on them like he would Richie's cock, saliva dripping out of the corner of his mouth and mixing with the tears that had escaped without notice. He was completely fucked out, his brain unable to process anything besides Richie. "I'm gonna cum." Richie warned, his orgasm approaching rapidly after being so on edge for so long. Eddie didn't mind, his own release not far behind. "Cum inside me, please, want to feel you." Eddie begged, unaware of his desire until it was suspended right in front of him. "Fuck, unnnf- god, Eddie." Richie said his name like a prayer, bringing his hand up to stroke Eddie's neglected cock. The sensation was downright sinful, the best thing Eddie thinks he's ever felt in his entire life. It caused his toes to curl, most of the muscles in his body seizing up at the pleasure. Richie's hips stuttered a few times and then he was overwhelmed with a warmth deep inside him, Richie's cock pushing through it to press diligently into his prostate. Eddie came with blinding lights in his eyes, his body convulsing as waves upon waves of euphoria flooded his senses. He's pretty sure he screams, but he could have been completely silent and it would have sounded the same to his deaf ears. Eddie's not sure how long he lays there in fucked out bliss, his mind completely separate from his body, but when he finally tunes back into the world around him he's alone in the bed. He looks around to find Richie and spots him crouched on the ground by the fireplace, tinkering with the button to light it up. Electric flames suddenly burst alive behind Richie's silhouette, highlighting his long legs as he stretches back up and turns to regard Eddie. "Hey." His voice is gentle, not quite a whisper but close enough to one that the greeting still felt secretive. "Hi." Eddie matches his tone, his throat appreciating the low register after being abused not too long ago. "I thought I lost you there for a minute." Richie crawled back into bed, pulling the thick duvet over them. "I think you did." Eddie admitted sheepishly. "That was fucking... wow." Richie laughed at the advanced vocabulary Eddie was able to implement at that moment. "Wow is right." Richie agreed, welcoming Eddie as he crowded into his space. The silence fell upon them naturally, their bodies and minds too exhausted to bother with much else. It was a long while until Eddie pipped back up. “Was that your first time?” Eddie asked quietly, his eyes having drifted closed from the comfort of being satiated in such a new way. “Mm-mm.” Richie answered carding his fingers through Eddie’s hair. “First time was with Ally Mae Espin. It was a mess.” Eddie hummed for Richie to continue, too content to respond vocally. “It was in Bill’s garage in 8th grade. It lasted exactly two minutes and neither of us finished. I had blue balls for the rest of the night, but honestly, I didn’t even care. I’d realized as soon as we’d kissed that I wasn’t into her the way she was into me. I don’t regret it, but as far as first times it’s pretty anticlimactic. Literally.” Eddie giggled, nuzzling closer into Richie’s warmth. He felt fuzzy all over, invincible to the evils of the outside world. He thinks he could probably survive an avalanche right now, completely safe inside Richie’s arms. “What about you? How was your first time porking the hog?” Eddie scrunched his nose in disgust, peering up at Richie judgingly. “First of all, ew. Don’t ever call it that again. And also… this was my first time.” Richie’s eyes widened a fraction, an unreadable but unmistakable softness within them. “Shit, Eds. I wish you’d have told me, I would have at least tried to perform better.” Predictably, Richie was trying to hide his vulnerability with humor. Also predictably, Eddie could see right through it. “It was perfect. You were perfect.” Richie seemed to gnaw on the inside of his cheek, so Eddie continued. “Ten out of ten, would pork again.” That earned a surprised laugh from Richie, and Eddie considered his mission accomplished. He could work on Richie’s insecurities more later, but for now, at least he knew Eddie didn’t regret what had happened. They fell back into another stretch of silence, the crackle of the fireplace background noise to their steady breathing. Eddie had almost fallen asleep when Richie spoke again. “Did you always know you wanted to be a mechanic when you were younger?” It took a moment for Eddie to fully re-inhabit his body, wondering why his slumber had been interrupted for such a random question. “Huh?” “You know, kids are so indecisive. One minute it's 'I'm gonna be a doctor' the next it's 'I'm gonna be an alien superstar princess'. Did little Eddie have lots of dream jobs or was it always a mechanic?” Eddie took a moment to think, having to dig through all of the expectations and responsibilities that had piled on top of him over time, shielding his passions and replacing them with pragmatic plans for the future. "I always wanted to be a mechanic. Actually, I even wanted to open my own garage when I grew up." Richie listened intently, allowing Eddie to continue. "My dad was a mechanic. I learned a lot just from watching him, and then when he passed away I continued learning under a guy named Isaac, until mom decided it was too messy and too dangerous for me to be in the shop. I always believed I would grow up, open my own place where my mom couldn't ban me from being, and name it after my dad." Richie's face fell at the mention of Eddie's dad's death and he cursed himself for bringing it up. People always felt uncomfortable at the mention of death, and even though Eddie had long since accepted that his dad was gone, he always had to suffer through people’s weird grief reactions that, more often than not, made him feel worse. However a few moments passed and Richie still hadn't said anything, so Eddie braved a look upwards. "What's your favorite car?" Eddie was taken aback, already in the process of mentally preparing himself to field the same old questions he'd long since memorized his answers to. He blinked a few times, a smile creeping up on him without his permission. Richie continued to surprise him at every turn, and Eddie was absolutely giddy about it. "You're gonna make fun of me." Eddie sighed, infinitely grateful for Richie somehow always knowing exactly what to say and when not to say. "I absolutely will." Richie nodded. "1966 Volkswagen Type 2." Richie seemed to contemplate it, nodding slowly before bursting into a side splitting smile and letting a little laugh go. "You’re right, that's hilarious." Eddie laughed along, but still slapped his chest playfully to at least act offended. He snuggled in closer, settling his head on Richie’s chest. "It's just that the hippie lifestyle doesn't exactly match the Eddie Kaspbrak I've grown to know and lo-" Richie cut himself off just as Eddie's heart skipped, both of them falling silent for a moment before Richie cleared his throat and marched onwards, his own heart beating rapidly in Eddie's ear. "I'd have guessed you were a smart car kinda guy." "Why? Cause I'm small?" Eddie challenged, trying (and failing) to return his heart rate back to normal. "Yeah. Small, compact, can fit a surprising amount in its backseat." Richie moved his hand down from where he'd been rubbing circles into Eddie's lower back and tapped one of his cheeks. "Careful! I'm still tender." Eddie pouted, unknowingly looking far too cute for Richie's fragile sanity. Richie kissed the top of Eddie's head and Eddie kissed him back between his collarbones, absolutely smitten with the way Richie handled him. "I like the freedom of it." Eddie admitted, picking the conversation back up. "I've always felt trapped in this town, it's comforting to think of owning something that can take me anywhere." “Technically anything with two wheels can accomplish that.” Richie pointed out. “Yeah, but with a van I don’t have to worry about where I’m gonna sleep. I can live out of it for as long as it takes me to get to my destination.” “Where is your destination?” “New York.” Eddie answered automatically, surprising the both of them. Richie’s arms tightened around Eddie, erratic laughter falling from his lips. “EDDIE!!!” “WHAT!?” Eddie was being jostled now, Richie’s happiness contagious even though Eddie had no idea what was happening. “NEW YORK IS MY DREAM!” Eddie finally connected the dots, realizing a little late what that meant. If Eddie wanted to move to New York, and Richie wanted to move to New York, then they could theoretically move to New York together. The notion made Eddie’s belly do flips. “Oh, yeah, I guess that is kind of perfect huh?” Eddie answered, far more bashful than he'd expected himself to sound. “We can get a little apartment downtown where you can open your own garage and I can work at whatever coffee shop will hire me while I practice my standup routine on the weekends! We'll be a dynamic duo, running the streets of New York together. It’s FATE!” Eddie couldn’t deny that it did feel like something cosmic was at play. Richie was this boisterous, loud, chaotic puzzle piece that somehow fit perfectly into the slot on Eddie’s board. He pushed Eddie’s boundaries, encouraged him to challenge his world and rethink the ways he’d been taught to live. Being around him was invigorating, but it also felt like home. Eddie realized with terrifying clarity that he didn’t want to spend another day without Richie in his life. He couldn’t fathom how he’d done so before; looking back felt like watching a black and white film in contrast to the technicolor movie magic he was living in now. Richie had lit up a spot in Eddie’s life that he hadn’t even realized had been dark before. Eddie trailed his hand up Richie’s chest and found the back of his neck, tilting his head down to face Eddie. He moved slow, bringing their faces close together so their lips barely touched. Richie’s skin was soft, his lips plump and inviting as they trembled beneath Eddie’s. They breathed each other in as Eddie nosed at Richie, watching as his eyes fluttered closed and his brain took a backseat. Eddie hummed a nearly imperceptible laugh and finally slotted their lips together, lingering in place for just a second before parting. It was teasing, but not in the sense of arousal. Eddie left Richie with a million thoughts on his mind and nothing but big brown eyes as answers. “I think I passed out for a second there.” Richie breathed shakily, effected in exactly the way Eddie’d intended. “You’re going to take me to New York one day.” Eddie decided aloud. Richie was all shy smiles, dipping his head low to try and hide his blush. “I sure fucking hope so.” Richie responded quietly, looking back up at Eddie through inky curls. Eddie pushed his hair to the side, tucking it behind Richie’s ear and letting his hand fall back down to his chest. “You will.” They fell asleep like that, wrapped in each other’s arms with thoughts of the future fueling their dreams. Eddie knew that nothing was guaranteed. Two days can’t rewrite your whole life, and once they left the resort and re-entered Derry, he was sure that all the expectations and pressure he’d superseded were going to come back full force. But somehow, he felt more prepared to face them. They didn’t hold the same weight as they once had, because now Eddie knew he had a whole world outside of the one his mother had built for him to exist within. That world might just be Richie Tozier, but it was a thousand times bigger and brighter than the solitude he’d lived in before. For once, Eddie was excited to live.

[demivampirew]

Kalentine’s Day

Henry x Plus-Size Reader

You can find more of my writings in the Masterlist

This was a request from @born2stronger : “what about if Henry meets reader through Instagram (we all know sometimes he checks on the comments) so reader gets his attention and he messages her.”   I hope you like it. 😊

Triggers: Fat- shaming; talking about the lost of a pet; feeling of nostalgia.

Tag list: @lunedelorient​​ @henrythickcavill​ @wolvesandhoundshowltogether​ @mary-ann84​ @desperate-and-broken​ @peakygroupie​ @summersong69​ @ivvitm1109​ @madbaddic7ed​ @iloveyouyen​ @the-soot-sprite @hell1129-blog​

"Happy Valentine's day everyone! For all of my fellow single pringles out there, you don't have to be in a relationship to enjoy today, it's about Love. Enjoy seeing others in Love, love your friends, your family, and especially yourself. #Kal #ValentinesDay #BestDogEver #KalentinesDay"

Henry wrote and posted the picture of Kal laying on the bed with a rose on his Instagram account.

Nostalgia hit him hard later that day. He wasn't in a rush to get back on the dating game, especially not after a recent disappointment with a lady, but he missed celebrating that day with a woman he would care about. He starting to imaging how that day would've been if there was someone special in his life: he'd had made breakfast for her to eat on the bed; he'd taken a stroll down the park after that, to enjoy the beautiful morning. They'd have had lunch in someplace fancy, then watch a movie and he'd prepare her favourite dish for dinner and he'd finish the day by making her feel unique. Every woman in his life was unique on his eyes, for best or for worst. That thought made him sigh deeply for what he decided to check some comments on his post. Cheeking comments on his photos was his guilty pleasure. He loved the nice comments and would laugh out loud whenever there were thirsty comments; some were a bit distasteful, others were cute and there were others that were so odd that made him chuckled.

As he was scrolling through comments, one caught up his attention. "@(your username) "KalentinesDay" you cracked me up, Mr Cavill! But I'd like to differ with the BestDogEver one; I love Kal, he's awesome, but my dog is...was the best. I lost him two days ago and I felt like my world crushed for I've had him since I was a kid. Being there holding his paw as the doctor put him down due to disease was the worst thing I've ever experienced. Sorry for ruining the mood, but thank you for the post, it lighted up my day! Have a nice KalentinesDay, Sir." He felt so bad for that person, so he entered her profile and hit the message option. "Hi Y/N. I saw your comment and I just wanted to say how sorry I'm that you lost your beloved companion. I've had Kal for a few years and I cannot even bear the thought of losing him, so I cannot imagine how must feel to lose your pal who's been there most of your life. Be strong. I'm sending you virtual hugs and lots of love. I hope you get better soon." After sending her the message, he checked her account for he saw a recent post with a picture of a lovely dog. It wasn't a mixed breed. It was a rescued dog. She talked so fondly of him, remembering the first day she met him and a few adventures they lived together. The stories warmed Henry's heart yet saddened him, knowing that his light had extinguished. There were a lot of pictures of her dog on her account and pictures of books and movies. Funny enough, most of the books she talked about were some of his favourites and the ones that he hadn't read, he took screen captures so he wouldn't forget to check them out. One of the movies she posted about was Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice and he had to see her thoughts on it. She agreed that the whole Martha plot was absurd, but the thing that bothered her the most, and in her opinion ruined the movie a little bit, was the fact that Doomsday was on the final trailer, for the movie would have been higher rated from her if she'd already known that he was going to show up. Yet, she disagreed with all the hate and the thought that the movie was bad: "It could've been better? Sure, Was it horrible? Absolutely not," "If it is too dark for you, don't watch it, period. Mr Snyder understands the soul of DC Comics. Dc is not lighthearted, accept that and move on" she wrote. Henry was too tempted to like the post and reply, but he decided that it was best not to do it. She didn't have many pictures of her, but he found one from two years ago. In the picture, she was standing to a bride and she hugging her. She had a pink dress on. Henry looked at her cute smile and was stunned by her beauty. In the caption of the photo, she wrote " Ignore my ugly fat ass... focus on my beautiful sister who just got married to her Charming Prince! Congrats, babe! Love you a lot and wish you a lifetime of nothing but happiness! ♥" Henry liked the picture and went straight to the comment section and wrote "You look gorgeous. I hope their love story is a good one and lives on." and press send. He was so caught by her, that without even noticing it, he went through every single post on her account, like all the photos she was in and same with pictures of books, movies and albums he liked.

He was having dinner with Kal when he noticed that he had a reply on IG. When he opened, he saw it was from the girl with the mesmerizing smile. "I think I should call the police, I have a stalker, 👀 😂" she wrote. "Thank you so much for the mood busting. It means a lot. He brought a lot of light to my life and it's hard to have to say goodbye." she confessed, "but instead of lying in bed crying, I'm going to use that energy to give love to another animal in need, that's what my baby would have wanted, I know it in my heart." she finished. Henry didn't wait for a second to answer her, even if that meant that his food would get cold. "Absolutely! Any animal would be lucky to have you as their momma." he assured, "Sorry for that, I didn't mean to be a creep. I swear I'm nice. I'm Superman" he joked. After a few moments, the girl messaged him again "Superman killed Zod, so...👀😜 ". "Low shot. Also, Zod was a villain" he went on with the conversation. " How do you know that I'm not a villain?" she joked, "Because villains don't love puppies" he grinned like an idiot in love as he pressed send. "Cruella did, though, 👀 😂" she said; "Touché. But I'm sure you're not a villain, you are too cute for that" he explained. "That'd be the perfect cover for a conquer the world masterplan, don't you think? To have everyone trust me and love me for me to be easier to control them?🤔" "Alright, you convinced me. You're the evilest villain in history. So, I should fly to wherever you are and get you." he playfully told her. "And I didn't want to sound creepy 😂. My apologies if my humour seems creepy," he apologized. "I think your humour is genius and I find it cute, no creepy," she pointed out. "Cute enough to meet me in person? 👀" he asked. "Absolutely," she accepted his invitation. "When are you free?" she questioned. Henry looked at the clock, it was 7:30 pm. "I'm free right now if you can." Henry offered, "Do you live in London?". "From the last couple of years, yes. I moved with my mom after my parents got divorced. She's was born here... I mean, yes, I live in London, sorry for the unnecessary information," she requested his forgiveness. "There's no need to apologize. I like getting to know more about you." he explained " Do you want to go to Mark's Club restaurant? It's a nice and quiet place where we can have a nice conversation" he proposed "I think I can get a last-minute reservation since I'm a member of the club." he informed her.  "Sure, I'm going to get ready. Tell me if you get the reservations or we can go anywhere else, I'm sure there are plenty of nice places to eat where there are tables available 😊" she said. "Great, I'm calling them right now!" Henry exclaimed excitedly and went into his phone contact list and press the dial button. He was lucky enough that the manager was a Superman fan and was quite fond of him, so he agreed to reserve a table for him in the busiest night of the year for restaurants. He shared the information to her and went to change as well. He put a white sweater and a nice pair of black pants on and black shoes. A grey blazer was his coat of choice.

He asked for her address to pick her up, but she opted for meeting at the club and he accepted because he understood that maybe she felt unsafe by giving her living information to a stranger. He couldn't lie that this gave him enough time to leave Kal with his friend Ben.

He waited for her inside the restaurant for there were paparazzi outside the place. Mark's Club was an exclusive place where many celebrities choose to eat in, especially in such occasions like Valentine's day - Guy Ritchie and his wife choose that place to spend the night and so did David and Victoria Beckham. Both couples came to greet him as soon as they saw him. His table was about to be ready and she wasn't there yet. He checked for messages on his IG but there were none. Has she stood him up? That'd have broken his heart; no because someone rejected him, but because she did it. He thought that he was losing his mind: being afraid that a girl he met that day on the internet might have played a prank on him and make him believe that she was interested in him.

When he saw that it was 10 pm, he decided that it was better to inform the host of the club that he wouldn't need a table after all. He was about to get up when behind him a female voice called his name. He turned around and stood, speechless. A beautiful woman on a red dress was standing in front of him, showing that glorious smile that captivated him ours ago on his phone.

- I'm so sorry I'm so late.- you apologized profusely - It took me ages to find a cab and then I've spent literally thirty minutes outside trying to get in because paparazzi were being annoying and would get in the way for me to get in.-she explained. - No worries!- he assured her- Honestly, I was a bit afraid that I've had been stood up.-he confessed, styling his hair backwards with his hand. - Absolutely not! I don't particularly enjoy pranks. Especially not in niece people like you.- she smiled and his legs were shaking.

At that moment the waiter approached you to let you know your table was ready. Henry said "Ladies first" indicating you to go first into the table area. The place was elegant. Henry waited behind your chair and as you sat in, he pulled it close to the table. He sat in front of you, grinning like the devil. That charming smile took your breath away.

Every word that came out of your mouth amazed him for your charisma and intelligence. You were not only funny, smart, confident but also beyond beautiful. He knew that wasn't love at first sight, but he could see himself falling deeply in love with you.

Halfway through the dinner, Henry finally noticed that lots of costumers were watching them. He found that odd since he was a regular there and there were plenty of celebrities on that place that night -some way more famous than him.

- I apologized if you feel uncomfortable with people watching us. Usually, they barely look at me. They know I'm an actor, but these fancy folks don't care much for Superheroes.- he explained. You looked at him with a smirk. - They're not looking at you, they are looking at me.- you pointed out. - Are you famous?- he asked confused and you chuckled because he meant it and it wasn't sarcasm. - Yes, I'm Ashley Graham.- you joked and his expression showed ignorance; he didn't know who she was.- She's a model.- you explained and he laughed apologizing for his lack of knowledge on current pop culture. He was beyond cute.- No, I'm not famous. They're looking at me because I'm "fat"; I'm a plus-size woman and they probably can't understand why are you having dinner with me.- you said and smiled- In another point of my life this would have hurt. It did for a long time. Whenever I'd be in a date with a thin man, people would look at us as if they were thinking out loud that he was too good for me, that he could do so much better than a fat girl. Thankfully I'm no longer in a place in which I'd blame myself for their judgement. I'm who I am and I'm ok with that. They can look all they want, they don't mean anything to me.-you shrugged- But, I need to know if that bothers you. I won't judge you if you are not into me. Maybe I'm confusing things, but the fact that you made a last-minute appointment for dinner on this day is because you have some kind of interest on me and I do for you too. I'm in for getting to know each other and maybe be something if we feel it later on. But if that's the case, if I got things wrong and you are not interested in my, just tell me. It's ok and we can be just friends if you want. All I ask from you is not to waste my time. Don't get me to grow feelings for you if you have no intention in returned them.- you requested. Henry went silent for a moment. Then he put his hand on top of yours, grabbed it and kissed it. He grinned and replied, "You got it right, gorgeous."

The dinner continued with you two laughing, drinking fine wine and having delicious desserts. You tried to grab the check but he took it so fast that you barely saw it. "I'll pay next time. That's the condition for me going out again with you" you indicated firmly and he agreed.

As you were about to leave, he noticed you didn't have a coat. "I was so hurried that I forgot to grab one" you explained and he immediately took off his and gave it to you, despite you telling him that you were ok, and helped you to put it on. He held your hand to walk outside, not caring if paparazzi took photos of you and he called a cab for you. It was easier for famous people to get a ride, you noticed. He drove you to your place and walk you to the door. He was much taller than you, so he leaned in to kiss your cheek and kissed your hand as well. Henry promised to call you the next day and walked towards the car. You reminded him of his coat and he asked you to keep it safe for him until next time you saw him. With a big smile, he got in the car and after you entered your place, you heard the cab left.

[ducktracy]

190. porky at the crocadero (1938)

release date: february 5th, 1938

series: looney tunes

director: frank tashlin

starring: mel blanc (porky)

at long last, frank tashlin has succumbed to putting porky on a diet. this is the first tashlin short to have a slimmed down porky, officially putting an end to ���fat porky”’s reign.

the story credit goes to lew landsman—a bit of an anomaly, considering this is his only credit. much of the scoop on him has been lost to the sands of time, but evidently he was a gag artist, selling comic drawings to magazines and even touting showings of his art throughout the ‘40s and ‘50s. you can read more about him here.

porky aspires to be a bandleader at the prestigious crocadero (a parody of the cafe trocadero, a bumping nightclub on the sunset strip from 1934-1947), but quickly realizes he’s too poor to afford its flashy admittance fee. he works as a dishwasher, hoping to catch a whiff of the festivities, but is quickly let go after he proves too incompetent for the job. nevertheless, an impromptu change in plans finds porky at the bandstand conducting a number of acts, including a high-energy cab calloway finale.

the typography of the title card melts away, the camera panning out as we get a full view of the crocadero, illuminated by the moonlight and its flashy neon sign. pan back in to the sign and fade to a standee:

all of the selections are references to pieces of music, with said music serving as accompaniment. the score begins with “little man, you’ve had a busy day”, switches to “in the shade of the old apple tree”, and closes with a carl stalling favorite, “the lady in red”. 

pan over to porky, eagerly ogling the sign. volney white’s animation and mel blanc’s vocals combine to make an energetic performance that will only grow in fervor. “hot duh-dee-duh-dee-duh-diggity dog! all thuh-the-thee-the big shots in person!” the detail of porky’s little hat flipping around, staggering in time to his stutter, is not only funny, but elevates the energy of the sequence. “someday, i’m uh-guh-geh-uh-gonna lead a band, too! s-see?”

porky unfurls a diploma, to which we get a close-up of his not-so-trustworthy credentials (fingernails and all):

volney’s animation continues to be full of character as porky blabs on about how he’s gonna become a famous bandleader. “and meh-muh-mee-mm-maybe i’ll be eh-feh-eh-famous, like eh-leh-lee-le-leopold eh-seh-stokowski!”

a nice change in camera angles as we turn to an upshot of porky, furiously conducting his imaginary band to a rousing rendition of “poet and peasant overture”. 

the mood changes from fervent conductor to crooner as he chooses to mimic rudy vallee, conducting along to vallee’s 1937 “vieni, vieni”, complete with a hilariously amiable facial expression--a stark contrast to the fit he was throwing mimicking stokowski just seconds prior.

another seamless transition in tone to an impression of eh-buh-bee-beh-benny goodman, the song this time being “sweet georgia brown” in the stylings of the king of swing himself. the changes in mood and tone, in both the animation and the music, are as smooth as butter, especially for such drastic shifts in expression. frank tashlin doesn’t skip a beat with his pacing. this is especially true as the camera pans over to another nearby sign, a hilarious sight gag quickly putting an end to porky’s festivities:

dejected, porky rifles in his pocket and pulls out a lone coin emblazoned with a skunk—“one scent”. he trudges along solemnly, away from the crocadero, when all of the sudden a sign catches his eye: BOY WANTED. though porky has been slowly growing more consistent in his characterization, his age still fluctuated from picture to picture. frank tashlin would also portray him as a young boy in wholly smoke just a few months later.

tashlin flaunts his need for speed as porky wastes no time doing the signature volney white eye take and darting into the crocadero, a cloud of dust and the swinging of the doors serving as the only indication of his presence just milliseconds prior.

although the sign doesn’t elaborate on what job it is that porky is doing, the tower of dishes blocking the screen as we fade in to the new scene answers any lingering questions. pan out to porky, happily scrubbing away, while his boss, a pretentious walrus whose vocal stylings are hilarious and borderline incomprehensible orders him around. the bargain—if porky does his job, then he can “watch the orrrrrrchestrey, maybe, hmmm?”

a throwback to the days of working with disney, carl stalling “mickey mouse”’s a little penguin waiter—that is, his quick little steps are fervently timed to the jaunty tinker of an xylophone. the walrus blocks the diminutive penguin, peddling a platter of soup. after they inadvertently do a tango of side-stepping, the penguin wordlessly slides down the walrus’ back, zigzagging around a sea of tables, and right over to a lone giraffe, elevating the table like a car jack to fit the gjraffe’s height. the giraffe laps up his soup with ease. though not the funniest gag ever, tashlin’s quirks—the quick timing, hiding the penguin behind the plethora of tables, etc, make it more endearing.

back to porky, carrying a dangerously tall tower of plates with him. a fly causes him to nearly spill his goods, but ducking in place renders the pig safe. that is, until he throws all of the dishes in the air, swatting the fly spastically. the music cue of porky ducking, looking around to make sure the fly is gone, sounds eerily similar to the stylings of norman spencer, who scored the cartoons up until mid-late 1936. 

without a break in pace, porky catches all of the dishes he threw into the air in one fell swoop. more buttery pacing from tashlin, who is able to switch tones and moods at lightning speeds without missing a beat. this is INCREDIBLY difficult to pull off, and he makes it look too easy.

as to be expected, the fly lands right on porky’s snout. instead of attacking it without hesitation, porky slowly reaches for a spoon on the kitchen counter... and THEN disregards his duties as dishwasher, carelessly tossing his pile of dishes aside to swat furiously at his foe.

the pompous walrus from before spots porky’s silhouette from outside the kitchen doors, flailing and waving around like a madman. “der loafer!” his boss interprets porky’s frantic waving of the spoon as a frantic imitation of a bandleader, promptly tossing him out. porky recovers in the back alley, left with his diploma and metaphorical birds of cartoon pain as the boss scolds “today, you are a ham!”--a take on the bar mitzvah declaration “today, you are a man”, which has been spoofed previously in cartoons such as egghead rides again.

it doesn’t take long for the boss to eat his own words. frank tashlin does a great job of creating a genuinely anxiety inducing mood as a crowd of people, now filling the crocadero, chant “we want mu-sic! we want mu-sic! we want mu-sic!” the musical accompaniment is more akin to the stylings of scott bradley, in the sense that it’s purely atmospheric and contextual, rather than an actual melody. the chanting and disconcerting music get louder as we cut to dramatic up shots of hands clapping to the beat, down shots of foots stamping, etc. it’s genuinely unnerving--and the manager agrees, pacing circles around his office, muttering incoherently to himself about the absence of “the musicmaker”.

knocking on the door serves as a symbol of hope as the manager whips around. “who’s dere?” 

“telegram, i bet’cha!” inside bursts a total loon of an old man, his long, white beard whipping in the wind as he does donuts on his bicycle inside the manager’s office. if it weren’t for his looks and speech patterns, which already tell a story, carl stalling’s score of “the woods are full of cuckoos” certifies that this old coot definitely has some screws loose. 

the old coot reaches into the depths of his beard and pulls out said telegram. “y’ owe me sixty cents, i bet’cha.” the manager unceremoniously dumps a handful of coins into the coot’s possession, who does a few more donuts in the office, indicating his exit. that is, until he suddenly halts, tipping his hat to bid “g’bye, i bet’cha.” such a scene is nonsense--and it’s hilarious nonsense rather than perplexing nonsense. it makes no sense, and yet it’s speedy enough to get its point across AND not overstay its welcome. had the same gag been executed by someone such as ben hardaway, who probably would have LOVED this gag, it would have been milked to death and bloated to ensure the audience “got it”. here, frank knows when to start and when to stop, an incredibly valuable skill not all directors possess.

contents of the telegram include a rather morbid nod to the hit ‘20s song “i faw down an' go boom”:

to add insult to injury, the old coot sticks his head in the door and adds “yeah, and they won’t come ‘t all, i betcha!” before slamming the door. though i can’t place the animator, the style of the animation looks eerily similar to that of izzy ellis’, from the spiral motion lines to the thin, squished look of his face. izzy ellis would animate in the clampett unit after leaving ub iwerks’ studio, later animating under norm mccabe, frank tashlin himself, bob clampett again, and then bob mckimson. an example of some of his work under frank tashlin here. 

back to the crowd, still demanding their music in the same unnerving drone. the manager continues to pace in his office, until a bright idea hits. “that sving dishvasher! i must get him back schnell!” 

a moment of frank tashlin greatness: the entire cartoon screeches to a halt as a narrator explains “ladies and gentlmen, ‘schnell’ means ‘quick’!” and, just like that, cartoon hijinks resume. this joke is hilarious 83 years later--imagine the reaction it evoked from theatergoers in 1938. once more, the matter-of-fact execution of the gag is what sells it. no build up, no cool down, no bloating of anything. short, sweet, and to the point. it’s so hilariously and purposefully redundant that you can’t NOT laugh at it.

speaking of quick, that would be an understatement to describe the rapid cutting after the fact. the manager rushes outside, whipping around street corner after street corner to find the dejected dishwasher he berated just minutes prior. he finds his target, grabbing porky and rushing backwards--the same way he came at the same exact lightning speed--all while monologuing about how porky can be a bandleader and break all of the dishes he wants.

again, no breaks in momentum whatsoever as the bandleader tosses a nonplussed porky into a bandleader’s outfit, stuffing a pillow under his shirt (had this cartoon been made a few months prior, there’d be no need for a pillow!) and giving him a fake mustache/curl of hair via makeup. “pull de vool over dere eyes!”

thus cues the music portion of the cartoon. a spotlight shines on a sign introducing porky as “the jazz king”, much to the pleasure of the audience. a giraffe in the orchestra introduces the song with a clarinet solo of “rhapsody in blue” before getting down to business.

porky, dressed as paul whiteman, conducts whiteman’s “avalon”, as indicated by the music stand. volney white does some great animation here--porky struggles to keep his own weight afloat, his giant pillow-stomach sinking to the ground. he readjusts himself a few times, enjoying the spare seconds of peace where his outfit stays intact, only for the same charade to repeat. fun eye takes and volumetric animation from volney. it’s no coincidence that he was one of tashlin’s best animators.

the crowd shots in this cartoon are not to be overlooked--kudos and apologies for the poor people who had to ink and paint all of that! the crowd dances along to the stylings of porky’s music, including a pair of kangaroos and their joeys slow dancing together.

back to the little penguin waiter from before, tinkering along to deliver a drink. a spare trombone sucks up all of the goods in the glass, prompting a hilarious grimace from the penguin who just stands still, silently glowering before traipsing backwards (mickey mouse timing and all) to refill. 

cut to porky, who appears much more jovial. a clever pan out reveals that he’s enlisted in the help of a car jack to keep his extra weight afloat. and, with that, curtains (animation reused from the introduction to tashlin’s porky’s romance) close out on the pig. applause from the audience.

next up, “guy lumbago and his boiled kanadians”, a not-so-flattering nod to guy lombardo and his royal canadians. porky, dressed as a canadian mountee, directs “cryman lumbago”. carmen lombardo, brother to guy, was often poked fun at for the excessive vibrato in his voice--people would liken him to sounding like an old man on his last legs. not only that, but even by the ‘30s, guy lombardo’s music was often dismissed as slow, sappy “old person’s music”. the 1954 woody woodpecker cartoon, real gone woody, also makes fun of lombardo, also dubbing him as “lumbago” and calling him a square.

indeed, cryman lumbago is a decrepit old man with--you guessed it--lumbago, singing in a hilariously obnoxious vibrato. even the dancers in the crocadero stagger along to his vibrato, their dancing stuttering. the benign facial expressions of the crowd, despite all of this, is the perfect cherry on top. one wonders if guy/carmen lombardo ever saw this cartoon, and how they reacted to it...

just as the gag threatens to overstay its welcome (and, admittedly, it has), a screwball assistant who looks like a relative to another random screwball in porky’s duck hunt scoops lumbago into a wheelchair and wheels him off stage. the audience applauds, and there’s a feeling that they aren’t just applauding the music.

cue the most controversial, uncomfortable, yet also complex part of the cartoon: a tribute to cab calloway, or, as he’s dubbed here, cab halloway.

for today i’ll spare you the imagery, but we’re greeted by a (thankfully) rare anomaly in the porky pig-verse: porky and his orchestra are dressed in blackface, conducting a rousing rendition of “chinatown, my chinatown”.

obviously, any and all blackface is abhorrent, but this is an interesting case. it’s clear that this was meant to be an homage and celebration of cab calloway’s music. a certain level of care seems to have been put into this sequence—it’s not a cheap throwaway “haha blackface” gag purely just for laughs. the animation is FILLED with a surprising amount of energy and vitality, and the vocals of the calloway impression are eerily spot on. analyzing the animation from a technical standpoint, it’s VERY skillful. it is NOT easy to convey such high energy and such elasticity. the animation is vivid, rapid, and invigorating. for 1938 especially, such energy is jarring. this feels more like the climax of a 1945 bob clampett cartoon, not a run of the mill 1938 porky pig cartoon.

BUT, with that said, it’s still extremely uncomfortable--blackface is blackface, and just because the techniques behind it are good doesn’t mean the material being animated is good. as i mentioned, the intentions don’t entirely feel as nasty as other examples we have/will seen, but that doesn’t negate the harm it does. you can have affectionate homages to cab calloway and his music without blackface--look at betty boop’s snow white. plus, because the song is “chinatown, my chinatown”, any nuance this scene had is discredited when porky switches from blackface to dressing up as a stereotypical chinese man. uncomfortable and unnecessary--THAT is a cheap throwaway gag. 

nevertheless, it’s not in my place to preach about what is racist and what isn’t. speaking purely from a technical standpoint--the techniques and processes that went into the animation itself--this is a very impressive performance. high energy in both music and animation. the elasticity, speed, all of it is very impressive. the content BEING animated, however, has aged like rotten milk. though this isn’t as meanspirited as other instances that we’ll explore, it still absolutely has its problems and definitely encourages mindful thinking.

regardless, the number ends to uproarious applause, and porky successfully lives his dreams of being a bandleader. the cartoon closes on the penguin waiter, once more peddling a drink. just as the offscreen trombone threatens to steal his drink, the penguin swallows it all in one go and blows a raspberry to the trombone as we iris out.

an interesting entry for sure. frank tashlin’s talents cannot and should not be understated--his speed and timing of the cartoon are certifiably one of the most impressive aspects of the cartoon. indeed, a lot of fun music in this one, whether that be underscores or otherwise. the design of the cartoon holds up very well--tashlin’s streamlined backgrounds and layouts are always a treat to look at. porky is very endearing, especially in the beginning with his imitation of all of the bandleaders, and the incomprehensibility of the walrus is too funny not to laugh at.

of course, the elephant in the room is the ending tribute, which we already discussed. from a technical standpoint, the vivacity of the animation should absolutely be commended and appreciated, especially this early on. the music is VERY fun. but blackface is blackface, and it just hasn’t aged well and comes off as uncomfortable--at least--regardless.

with that, whether you choose to watch this cartoon is up to you. i think this is definitely one of tashlin’s best porky cartoons, and despite its gags and references that have now become dated, it still serves as an enjoyable watch. the whole blackface thing, however, is why this isn’t a cartoon i frequent often. i would trepidatiously recommend this, either skip the calloway sequence or watch it with an open mind. in all, a fun cartoon that i unfortunately can’t quite appreciate to its fullest extent.

with all that said, here’s a link!

[existentialspacecowboy]

Deadeye 2: Electric Boogaloo

I added a second chapter to my fic inspired by @5hio’s wonderful royai/fma cowboy AU. What started out as a one-shot may develop into a full fic, as I really do love this! In the meantime, please enjoy this second helping <3

The fic so far is available to read over on AO3 and the second chapter can be read below the cut if that’s more your thing ;)

Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 2: sunsets and firelight

They’ve been riding for a few hours now.

Atop their respective steeds, and side-by-side, the journey has mostly passed in silence with nought but the sound of hooves against the prairie to disturb the peace.

He’s made casual conversation a few times.

But Riza doesn’t seem all that keen to talk.

It isn’t born out of rudeness, no, Roy instead supposes that she simply isn’t all that used to company.

After all, most gunslingers like her tend to go it alone.

Roy can’t think of anything worse, these few weeks he’s spent alone have been enough hell for one lifetime.

So, he’s glad for her company.

The sun is low in the sky, its orange hue casting shadows across the plains, and bathing them both in evening rays. There’s just something all the more ethereal about watching the sunset from horseback, Roy decides.

And the colour of the sky reminds him of her eyes again.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Roy pipes up, throwing his glance momentarily in her direction before continuing to observe as the sun dips steadily beneath the horizon and out of sight.

He wonders just how many sunsets she’s watched out here alone.

She hums, “We should think about making camp soon. It won’t be long until it’s dark.”

“It is getting cold,” Roy agrees.

She turns her head back towards him, “I think that’s just the alcohol making you feel cold.”

She’s right, of course.

The effects of the alcohol still linger within Roy’s system, even despite the sobering experience of the bar fight. There’s a dull throbbing behind his eyes and in his temples that tells him the morning hangover is going to be killer.

But that’s a problem for the Roy of tomorrow.

They canter for a little while longer, Riza’s dog contributing the occasional bark at its own shadow, before the woman stops suddenly and dismounts from her horse.

“This seems like as good a place as any,” she informs him as she surveys the area with hands poised sharply at her waist.

Roy decides to defer to her judgment. Frankly, he’s not so sure what makes this particular spot any better than the miles and endless miles of dust they’ve already trekked through today, but he’s happy to stop. He’s exhausted, and his own Mustang beneath him is flagging too.

It’s been a long day.

Clambering down from his horse with about as much grace, coordination and dignity that a drunkard can have, Roy successfully manages to get his boot caught in his stirrup.

Overshooting the force required to release his foot, Roy sends himself toppling backwards and he lands with a harsh thud, his back stinging against the ground.

“Ow!” He splutters, choking on the dust his impact kicked up. Escorting a hand behind himself, Roy rubs at the impact site on his back and knows that it’s definitely going to bruise.

He silently hopes that Riza hasn’t just seen him make a complete arse of himself.

She has.

“I’m impressed you were able to stay upright on your horse for the entire ride,” Riza explains, arms full of bundled canvas and bedrolls, with her amusement barely concealed.

“I’ve been way more drunk than this before,” Roy states, wearing it like a badge of honour. He grins up at her dumbly, but she isn’t impressed in the slightest.

“Here,” she says with a curt roll of her eyes, dropping a bedroll down onto Roy’s stomach like a dead weight.

It’s the second time today he’s had the wind knocked out of him, this time his legs shoot comically upwards and curl inwards towards his chest from the bedroll’s impact.

I probably deserved that, he thinks.

Standing to his full height, and pushing the bedroll under his arm, Roy moves to tie his steed to the abandoned fencepost next to Riza’s own. He brushes his palm gently down his horse’s snout, offering her praises and a fuss behind one ear.

Riza has already set about making her tent when Roy strides back over, she’s efficient in its assembly and he supposes it must be second nature for her by this point.

The same can’t be said for him.

Rolling out the bedroll is simple enough, but setting up a tent? Roy’s sure that he doesn’t have enough arms.

And his alcohol addled mind is doing nothing to help the situation.

After what feels like hours of fumbling, and with his head trapped inside the canvas somehow, he feels another pair of hands take the material and help to free him.

“Here, let me,” Riza says softly, impressed by Roy’s enthusiasm, but amused by his failure. “You collect the firewood instead.”

That’s probably a little bit more up to his speed.

A short stroll away from the camp leads him to a babbling stream; on its banks, he finds dried perennial grasses and old branches. He puffs his chest out in victory and gathers arms full of the stuff so that he can make a sufficient fire.

His foraging effort successful, he returns to camp to find Riza proudly stood beside his tent, making the final few adjustments to ensure the structure is secure.

“Thanks,” Roy says with an honest smile, “Found us some firewood too.”

“Don’t mention it,” she says. “Just set it down over there.”

Depositing the wood, leaves and twigs into a heap, Roy reaches into his pocket to extract his lighter.

It’s pure silver, an heirloom from the father he’s never met.

Successfully sparking the fire to life with a flick of his wrist, Roy re-caps the lighter and passes his thumb idly over the initialled engraving.

He only realises he’s been daydreaming when Riza breaks the silence between them.

He realises she’s scowling.

“What was that?” Roy asks, not having heard what she’d said the first time due to his personal distraction.

“I asked if you smoke,” she repeats, voice laced with apprehension as she gestures pointedly towards the lighter, her lip curled in something like distaste.

He laughs, “Only on days with a ‘y’ in them!”

She’s not laughing.

“Well,” she begins curtly, “If you must smoke, I’d rather you didn’t do it in camp.”

Roy blinks, confused, his brow furrowed tightly. Yes mother, he thinks, but he’s able to bite his tongue.

Instead, he nods and simply repockets the lighter, “You’ve got it.”

***

Roy’s stomach gurgles in anticipation, a reminder of just how little he’s eaten over the past few days, as Riza stirs a pot of beans which sits warming enticingly over the fire.

She’s already passed him a bowl; it’s simple, wooden, and nothing like the silverware he’d been used to back when he was a sheriff.

“Should be warm enough by now,” Riza hums, extending her arm outwardly towards Roy.

He passes her the bowl, eyeing her over the top of it with an expression akin to a puppy begging for scraps, as she begins to fill it.

“Please, ma’am,” he drawls, “May I have some more?”

“Idiot,” she says endearingly with a shake of her head. “Fine, you can have another scoop.”

Victorious, and with his bowl piled high, Roy immediately gets to work. Jamming his spoon deep into the bowl, he piles up a hefty portion and pushes it deep into his mouth.

He watches keenly as Riza sets aside a more conservative portion for herself before seating herself down beside him. She has a bottle in hand, too. Roy hopes that it’s something strong. He holds his hand out expectantly.

She scoffs.

“Absolutely not,” Riza scolds. Instead, she tosses him a bota bag. “It’s water-only for you, at least until you sober up.”

Roy whines, catching the bottle and uncapping it before taking a glug. He’s almost forgotten what water tastes like.

They nourish themselves in silence for a while longer until both of their bowls are emptied. She collects his, rises to her feet, and sets them aside to wash in the morning.

Roy wonders if she ever stops thinking about what’s next.

But he also supposes that ignorance is a luxury not afforded by those who call the Wild West their home.

It’s a while before she seats herself beside him again and, when she does, she has another bottle in hand. She sips slowly from it, her focus trained on the flickering campfire.

“You really know your way around out here, huh?” Roy asks, shattering the silence, and keen to know more about her.

“I’ve lived out here almost my whole life. It’s all I’ve ever known,” she explains, casting her sepia eyes over to him.

He frowns, “Have you always been out here alone?”

“Not always,” she sighs after a pause. “It used to be me and my father.”

Her eyes drift back over towards the campfire and stare idly ahead, clear in thought.

He’s clearly prodded on a nerve.

“My aunt raised me,” he interjects quickly, keen to change the subject and regain her focus.

It works. A small smile plays at her lips, a curiousness in her eyes.

“Here, just let me –” He sticks out his tongue and purses it between his lips as he rummages around inside the deep pocket of his overcoat. He finally finds his prize.

In the palm of his hand sits a gold pocket-watch; it shimmers in the dull light of the campfire, the seal of the lion clear on its front. He brushes off the lint and blows on it before he buffs it clean with the corner of his sleeve.

Her eyes are wide when he looks up.

He swallows.

She points towards the watch inquisitively, “Is that gold?”

He nods.

Something like a frown sets about her face again.

“My aunt gave it to me,” he explains.

He supposes it’s entirely likely that Riza may never have seen gold in the flesh before, especially not all the way out here.

He pushes the clasp on the watch with his thumb and reveals the clockface and small photograph inside.

He hands the photograph to her.

“That’s me and, as you can see, I’ve gotten more handsome with age,” he grins.

She chuckles with a shake of her head, her frown dissipated.

Next, Roy jabs a finger at the other figure on the photograph, “And that stubborn battle-axe right there is my aunt.”

“I can see the resemblance,” Riza notes quietly, studying the photograph.

“She raised me. I never knew my folks. They died when I was young. She never told me exactly what happened to them. Said it wouldn’t do any good to know.”

“I’m sorry,” Riza notes apologetically.

He dismisses it with a wave of his hand, “Don’t be. No use mourning parents I never knew, right?”

She hands him back the photograph, nodding her head, a flickering sadness in her own eyes, “I never knew my mother, either. She died having me, so I understand.”

Roy swallows, eyeing her apologetically, “That must be hard.”

She shakes her head, “It’s like you said, no using in mourning, even my father never spoke about her.”

“For what it’s worth,” he says, “I am sorry.”

She nods again, “Thank you.”

He leans to rest on his elbow, looking up at her.

“Hey, who needs blood relatives when you’ve got a horse, a dog, and a drunkard to look after, right?”

Sharp as a tack, she fires back, “Who says I’m keeping you?”

Roy chuckles, “Fair enough.”

At least it made her smile again.

Riza finishes her drink silently and rises to her feet. Dusting herself down, she eyes Roy like a mother scolding a son for staying up way beyond his bedtime. “It’s late,” she says, “And you need to sleep the alcohol off.”

“I’ll go take a leak,” Roy tells her, “Then I’ll head straight to bed.”

She scrunches up her nose and Roy supposes that they don’t know each other quite well enough for toilet humour just yet.

Hayate has joined the woman’s side by the time Roy has managed to drag himself up to his feet; the dog patters obediently inside the tent as Riza holds open its entrance.

He can’t help but smile at the sweet scene.

But he also can’t help but be a little bit jealous.

He’s about to ready himself for bed when he notices that he pauses before entering the tent herself.

She looks to him.

“Goodnight, Mr. Mustang,” Riza breathes softly.

Now, that makes his heart flutter.

He beams, nodding enthusiastically in acknowledgment, “Sweet dreams, Ms. Hawkeye.”

He watches as she disappears out of sight, smiling dumbly and fondly to himself for a few seconds until his brain eventually catches up and rather unhelpfully reminds him that he still really, really needs to pee.

[brooklyns-supersoldiers]

Secret’s Out

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Warnings: A few alcohol mentions and I think that’s it?

A/N: So this is the one drabble/one shot that appeared in my head a while ago and I finally got around to finishing! It’s not the best thing I’ve written but I tried. I’ve got some more drabble/one shot ideas in my head if anyone’s interested in reading those! Feedback is always appreciated and I hope y’all enjoy!

It was a long overdue girls’ night at the compound which meant you, Natasha and Wanda were set up in the movie room. The current movie playing on the TV was forgotten and instead you all were on the floor, drinks in hand, laughing.

“I cannot BELIEVE you actually made Sam scream like a little girl.” You managed to get out before falling into another fit of giggles. 

“It’s not like I meant to sneak up on him!” Nat defended, tossing some popcorn into her mouth as she shrugged. You and Wanda exchanged a look and started laughing again. You knew Nat was telling the truth, but the picture in your head of that situation was too funny, especially in your slightly inebriated state.

“So how are you and Vision?” You asked, turning your attention to Wanda. She blushed and took another sip of her drink. You smiled in response. The two had been seeing each other for a couple of weeks now and you could tell they were hitting it off. 

“Oh you know…” She trailed off, trying to avoid the question.

“We don’t know though! You two have been so secretive!” Nat complained. She was the one who was always involved with everyone’s love life to the point that you jokingly called her the team matchmaker.

“I don’t know what to tell you guys! He’s been so sweet. For our first date we went out for dinner. Then we went for a walk after and just talked. It was really nice to just go be normal people for once. He may or may not be taking me to the movies tomorrow.” She said with a smile.

“So clearly we need to have more girl’s nights because this is all news to me! I’m so happy for you!” You squealed, giving her a hug.

“And what about your love life?” Nat teased, turning the attention to you. Now it was your turn to blush.

“Nonexistent.” You mumbled. Despite Nat’s many attempts to set you up, nothing ever seemed to go past the first date. Maybe it was them. Or maybe it was that you were hung up on a certain super soldier you happened to have a secret crush on.

“What about Jack?” Wanda questioned, referencing Nat’s latest failed set up.

“I don’t know we just didn’t hit it off.” You shrugged, taking a sip of your drink as you tried to think of a way to change the subject.

“I really thought that one would work out.” Nat pouted. “What happened?”

“Nothing happened. I mean he was nice but we just didn’t hit it off. I don’t know what to tell you.” You replied causing Nat to narrow her eyes at you.

“Oh I know that excuse.” Nat accused, staring you down. Your eyes went wide for a second before you corrected yourself, trying to hide any emotion on your face. There was no way she could pick up on something from that vague answer, was there?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. He just wasn’t the right guy for me that’s all.” You answered with a look of confusion, really trying to sell it. You knew that you could tell Wanda and Nat about your crush, but frankly you didn’t want them meddling with it. You were fine with just being friends and keeping your feelings to yourself.

“You like someone.” She continued as Wanda watched, popping popcorn into her mouth as she glanced between the two of you.

“I do not!” You shot back, crossing your arms.

“Oh you totally do! You wouldn’t react that way if you didn’t. Spill it!” Wanda spoke up from her seat on the sidelines.

“Yeah spill it, Y/N! You know you can tell us anything.” Nat urged, nudging your side. 

“If I tell you guys you’re going to get involved and I don’t want that.” You mumbled. 

“So it’s someone we know! Okay now you HAVE to tell us!” Wanda pleaded, giving you her best puppy dog eyes. You groaned wishing that this would stop.

“Nat, how’s your love life going?” You ask in a weak attempt to change the subject. 

“Nope, this is about you right now. Spill it!” She said throwing popcorn at you. 

“Ugh fine! But you guys can’t say anything or try and get involved!” You finally gave in, knowing that they wouldn’t stop until they knew.

“What’s the fun in that?” Wanda asked. “Fine, we won’t.” She added in response to your glare.

After getting the both of them to pinky promise and swear to secrecy you took a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

“I have a crush on Steve.” You mumbled, looking at the ground.

When you joined the team a few years ago, Steve was the first one to welcome you. Since then the both of you have gotten extremely close to the point you two are practically attached at the hip. 

“Oh my god I knew it!” Wanda exclaimed, jumping up.

“It was kind of obvious, Y/N.” Nat laughed. “But I’m glad you finally told us.”

“What!?” You yelled, a look of horror on your face. Did everyone know? Did he know?

“It’s the way you talk about him. He’s your favorite subject if you haven’t realized it yet. ‘Oh Steve and I sparred today and he said I did great!’ ‘Steve brought me lunch today, wasn’t that so sweet?’ You’re always talking about him. It’s actually pretty cute.” Wanda told you with a smile.

“Not to mention the way that you look at him. It’s like he’s the only person in the world and you’ve got heart eyes when you look at him constantly.” Nat added, also with a bright smile on her face.

“Oh god. You don’t think he noticed that stuff too did you? That’s so embarrassing. Besides he’d never like me back anyway.” You sighed, looking at the floor again. You found it hard to believe that someone like him would go for someone like you. He was way out of your league and could get any girl he wanted. You two were just friends and that’s all you guys would probably ever be.

“What makes you say that?” You heard from behind you, making you freeze up and eyes widen almost comically. Nat and Wanda simply laughed at your reaction as you turned around to find Steve himself leaning in the doorway.

“H-how long have you been standing there?” You asked, face as red as a tomato. 

“A little while now. I wanted to see if you guys needed any more snacks or anything before I turned in for the night.” He replied, a small smile on his face.

“We’ll give you two a bit of alone time.” Wanda announced, dragging Nat with her out of the room, the two whispering to each other the whole time. 

“So what is this about you thinking I wouldn’t like you back?” Steve asked, moving so he was standing in front of you. You immediately looked at the ground, still embarrassed by the current situation. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or your nerves but you started rambling in response.

“Well, it’s just that you’re a really sweet guy. Not to mention really hot. You could have any girl that you wanted. I’m just …me. I figured you’d probably only ever like me as a friend so I kept my feelings to myself. And if you don’t like me back that’s okay! We can just forget all of this happened and go back to how things were. I mean only if you-” You were cut off by him pressing his lips to yours. It was a sweet kiss which you melted into instantly.

“Do you realize that I’ve been wanting to ask you out for months now?” He questioned with a slight laugh when he pulled away. “I thought you just wanted to be friends too so I was scared to say anything.”

“Clearly no.” You laughed at his confession. You both had wanted the same thing but didn’t know how to approach it all along. 

“Well, now that I know, do you want to get dinner with me tomorrow night?” Steve smiled down at you.

“Absolutely.” You replied, hugging him. There was a smile on your face that you knew wasn’t going to go away any time soon.

“FINALLY!” You heard from the doorway. You both turned around to see Nat, Wanda, Bucky and Sam all standing there.

“You left and brought back a crowd with you?” You groaned, hiding your face in Steve’s chest.

“Well, we all had a bet going to see how long it was going to take you guys to actually confess your feelings to each other.” Sam admitted with a laugh.

“I won, if either of you were wondering.” Nat added, smirking and holding up a handful of $20 bills.

You and Steve exchanged a look, then laughed at your friends’ antics. The boys eventually left, but not before stealing some popcorn on their way out. Another movie was playing on the screen, but all you could focus on was your excitement for your date with Steve tomorrow.

[banashee]

This is another one of my @badthingshappenbingo​ prompts.

Prompt: Chronic Pain

Please mind the tags and warnings in the authors note!

-

 (Pain)fully Human

 Being one of the very few Avengers without superpowers royally sucks sometimes. It really does, even though Clint is used to it.

 It's fine, he keeps telling himself, but he is no longer 20 and getting up in the mornings is a lot harder these days, and a lot more painful.

 Clint is in his late 40s, which isn’t even old, really, but it sure feels like it when you’ve been working hard for most of your life, tagging along with actual superhumans and rescuing a city and occasionally the world every few weeks. Not to mention the injuries - they can be real nasty, and when the weather gets cold, Clint can feel them in his bones. He doesn’t complain though, not really.

 He will complain about everything and anything else all day long if you’ll let him, because at heart, some part of him is a grumpy grandpa and has been ever since he was a teenager, but he rarely, if ever, voices any real distress. It’s easier to deflect because what is the alternative? Admitting defeat or the fact that his days in the field are definitely counted? No way.

 Clint can deal with a lot, but feeling useless - or worse, being useless - isn’t one of those things.

 This is why he forces himself to keep going even when every muscle in his body cramps and protests, and it’s why he forces himself out of bed despite being exhausted. Pain is part of the job, he learns early on, and there are quiet periods where he can heal and relax.

 When exactly the pain stops disappearing, he wouldn’t be able to tell.

 At first, it’s just smaller aches that linger, especially a bad back and a few old wounds. Over time, it gets worse - it is a creeping process.

 Some mornings, Clint can’t get out of bed without being in excruciating pain. He can barely stand, let alone walk. Those days, he can’t even make the short way from his bed to the bathroom without struggling. He clings to the bed frame with watering eyes, cursing up a blue storm and collapsing back onto it, gasping for breath.

 Clint remains sitting on the edge then, shaking like a leaf and breathing through the pain until it fades away just enough for him to be able to carefully get up, slowly making his way through the day. Some days are bad enough that he can’t even leave the house to do anything - the fatigue, the frustration and his mental health spiralling out of control are simply too much.

 He’s always had trouble with Depression and Anxiety, but the constant exhaustion and pain only make it worse.

 Clint doesn’t ask for help, not even when he spends days in bed, only getting up to go to the bathroom and drink a bit of water.

 As long as he had Lucky, those days were somewhat bearable. Clint would spend them cuddled up somewhere warm and soft with the deep, even breathing of his dog nearby, dozing on his chest while he could bury his hands in soft fur. It truly is Clint’s favourite way to seek comfort. Lucky always had a knack for reading his human’s mood. Especially on the bad days, he stays close, trying to help him in the sweet, loving way dogs do. Lucky is amazing in so many ways, and Clint just hopes he can repay his beloved companion enough.

 When Lucky first came to him, he was still kind of young, but now, he is much slower and calmer than before. His once entirely golden fur keeps growing greyer by the day, and their walks get shorter and shorter as time passes on. Instead, Lucky likes his sleep and getting belly rubs for as long as possible. Clint happily gives him all this, and much more.

 He owes this dog his life, and that is no exaggeration. If it wasn’t for Lucky, he probably would have given up on life years ago.

 But unfortunately, no dog lives forever and once his beloved companion is gone, Clint’s bad days get worse. They get worse in an emotional way, for sure, but he could swear that the pain itself doesn’t ease like it used to.

 His therapist strongly recommends getting another dog, because it is proven that emotional support animals can be very helpful, but he puts it off. Clint feels guilty, doesn’t want to replace Lucky, especially while he is still grieving. It feels wrong, but deep down he knows that his therapist is right.

 “You don’t have to replace Lucky. He was special to you and I understand that, but I also think it would be good for you to allow another dog - or cat, or whatever animal you’d prefer - in your life. It helps.” his therapist had told him for the 20th time, and finally gotten through to him.

 A few days later, Clint visits the local shelter and finds himself sitting on the floor, surrounded by dogs of all shapes and sizes. Part of him would like to adopt every single one of them, because honestly, who wouldn’t?

 But then, he falls in love with a black lab.

 This dog is keeping to herself, sitting calmly behind the other dogs as if waiting for a quieter time to greet the new human in the room. One leg is missing, and there are some grey hairs scattered across her sweet face and especially around the snout.

 “Hello sweetie, who are you?” Clint asks, carefully crouching down near the lab. She comes closer, curiously sniffing his outstretched hand, wagging her tail and then allowing him to pet her. Even more so, she practically melts into the gentle touch and Clint has already given his heart to this dog.

 His grief over Lucky is still there - always will be, to some degree - but this sweet, gentle soul seems to be the perfect companion for him now.

 “This is Betsy. She’s an old lady, as you can see, and she’s been with us for most of her life. She was not treated well in the past.” the staff member explains, and it’s clear that she wants the best for Betsy. The young woman smiles at Clint with a knowing smile as she watches him interact with Betsy.

 Clint is head over heels in love, and having to leave without this old lady dog almost breaks his heart all over again. Betsy seems to agree, because it very much looks like the love is mutual.

 Luckily, a few visits and a lot of paperwork later, Betsy comes home with Clint.

 He carries her up the stairs, and once they enter the apartment, the dog is met with an overwhelming urge to sniff and explore everything, and she happily does so for all of two minutes before she trots over to where Clint has collapsed on the couch - the pain is flaring up again, but he smiles at Betsy and pats the space on the couch next to him. A moment later, Clint finds himself with a lapful of very happy dog, and he just knows that this was the right decision.

 Betsy is incredibly loving, calm, and mostly happy when she has food and cuddles available at all times - both of which are plentiful here.

 The first night, Betsy sleeps right next to Clint, burrowing into him and the blankets. From what they told him in the shelter, this is the first time ever she gets to be in a bed - or a couch, earlier that day. She seems so happy and grateful about every little thing, and Clint just knows he would kill for her in a heartbeat.

 Their shared journey only has begun, but the bond is already strong. Both of them are in desperate need of company and love, and they definitely found both in each other.

 As time goes on, the bad days get more and more, and it takes one particularly bad day where Clint almost misses a shot in the field for him to come to a final decision.

 No one but him notices his mistake, but it sends cold dread down his spine.  After the debrief, when he finally makes it home, Clint has a full blown panic attack the second he closes the door behind him. He comes back to himself with Betsy pressing herself close to him, and he leans his cheek into her dark, smooth fur, stroking Betsy’s head in an attempt to calm down.

 The two of them are cuddled up on the couch, warm and secure, when Clint makes the decision. Today had been a close call - just a split second later, just a breath of air in the wrong direction, and people would have died. It can’t happen again - Clint is the best there is at his job, but it’s been too long. He’s in too much pain, getting too unreliable. It’s the last thing he needs, and damn it, the other Avengers deserve the truth. He owes them that much, not only for the obvious reasons, but because they are friends.

 Clint doesn’t talk to Steve. As much as he likes and respects him, the last thing he needs is Captain America trying to be kind and understanding when he himself doesn’t look a day over 30 and could casually weight lift a truck before breakfast.

 Instead, he seeks out Tony in the downstairs laboratory.

 Tony works just as always, chatting away to JARVIS and humming along to Black Sabbath - some things never change. Others do, however. Grey streaks are more and more visible in his dark hair and beard, and it might not be noticeable as much, but he moves more carefully than he uses to.

 If nothing else, Tony will understand, so this is why Clint tells him bluntly,

 “Hey. Just so you know - I’m retiring.”

 “Alright. How come?” the other man asks, letting his screwdriver roll across the table.

 “Getting all old and creaky.” Clint aims for a joke, but he gets a raised eyebrow in response.

 “Excuse you, you’re younger than me. If you’re old and creaky, what does that make me?”

 Clint shrugs.

 “Not the guy who almost missed a shot in the field.”

 There it is. Out in the open. A beat of silence passes between them.

 “What? When? I never even realized…” Tony looks at him directly now and he is no longer joking.

 “Last mission. It still went okay, but… It nearly didn’t. I can’t go out there in good conscience and risk people's lives because I can’t do my job right anymore.” Clint shrugs again, sad this time.

 “That wouldn’t be fair to either of you.”

 Tony just nods, letting the silence wash over them for a while. Neither of them is good at the whole talking thing and honestly, they’ve known each other for so many years, there is more than a little understanding between them.

 “Those mortal, squishy, human bodies have their disadvantages, huh?”

 A bark of laughter bubbles up his throat. It feels strange, but he definitely needed that.

 “They sure do. Honestly, fuck that.” Clint laughs some more, and Tony looks satisfied with himself. He totally got the reaction he wanted, and their conversation is a lot lighter after that.

 “Hey.” Tony says later, keeping Clint from walking away just yet.

 “Don’t be a stranger, okay? Us mere mortals gotta stick together.” He goes for a shoulder check, but Clint pulls him into a quick but tight hug. Tony returns it though, clinging on for just a second before he releases his friend with a shoulder slap and another few bad jokes.

 As far as conversations went, this one wasn’t half bad, Clint thinks, and makes his way back home.

 Betsy is waiting for him, and happily greets him as soon as he walks through the door.

 “Hey honey, I’m home.” he tells her, happily letting her lick his face and then they curl up in their favourite spot.

 Clint’s bones are aching and protesting from the movement of the day and old injuries are giving him trouble again. It’s getting cold out, and it only manifests what Clint already knew - he did the right thing.

*+~

Prompt 7/25: Chronic Pain

Warnings:

- breif, non-graphic mention of suicidal thoughts - off-screen death of a dog (due to old age, no cruelty!) - discussions of chronic pain and it's issues over the years - discussions of mental health, bad days

[prince-eon]

• We’ll Figure It Out • ➥ h. hotel

[ Husk / Reader ]

I made this on a whim because why the fuck not. First story published, not first time writing. GLHF, never written for Husk before but it’s an adventure we can experience together. Also, yes, this was based off of “The Stray” comic by Disteal.

— TL;DR : Some soft Husk shit. The server is a sin. Not really used to writing Husk sorry. Based off of “The Stray”

Pre-Warnings: Just some slight angst with some fluff in it ; a tiny smidge of self-loathing ; more of a platonic thing but if you squint you can see the intimacy

God damn was it fucking freezing. Who knew that Hell would have such blistering winters, then again, it was hell so what the fuck did you expect? The weather here was nothing short of imperfection, choosing to be either sweltering hot or a blistering cold. Even if there were good days, they were short in stock as this place did its best to live up to its name.

Tonight, as you’ve noticed by your numb hands and probably already frozen face, it was freezing tonight, and it just so happened that you were walking home. Today was your birthday, and you had just spent the entire day out alone drinking away your sorrows and passing out at the docks of Lake Wendigo. It wasn’t your brightest idea to go outside in this weather, especially with such a thin sweater on, but it also wasn’t the worst thing you’ve done.

You walked on, staring down at your phone as you message Rosie on what your next job would be for tomorrow. All week you’ve had nothing assigned for you to do and you were tired of sitting around. It made you anxious and adding that on top of the growing pile of depression of your birthday just made you feel all the worse.

 Hey mother      

When’s the haul coming in?      

Read      

 You frowned at the ‘read’ underneath your message. A cloud of white left your lips when you sighed in frustration. Why hasn’t she replied yet? You’re sure you’ve taught her enough on how to use a phone, that and she was a fast learner, so there was no way she’d have trouble texting you back. A frown settled onto your face as you looked up to see the hotel.

This place was the bane of your existence, ever since Rosie sent you off to help Radio-bitch out to repay a favor. That was a month ago, and you were dreading every single second of it. The group of people that helped run this place or participated in the project behind it were complete morons. They were all so neurotic with their actions. It all made you feel awkward and out of place, so much so that you paused when you made it to the door, not moving an inch to reach out and grasp the handle to open it.

You stared holes into the brass piece, taking a glance behind you and questioning on whether you wanted to leave while you still could. It seemed so enticing to leave, go back to Rosie and forget like this place ever existed, back to your regular, daily, miserable life. You stared out down the walkway, going to take a step forward. That was until the doors opened to reveal a tall, skinny bitch.

“Well, look who decided to show up!” Alastor chirped from the doorway, smile ever present, “Come on in, my dear, tonight is a deathly cold night and you must be freezing!” He stepped forward, putting a hand to your back as he pushed you inside and closed the door. The warm air instantly met your skin, and it was only then that you realized just how cold you were.

“Ah, yeah..” You mumbled out, shoving your phone and hands inside your sweater’s pockets to help warm them up. You followed Alastor into the dining area to find everyone already gathered around the table. The atmosphere surrounding them was filled with a warmness that had you pausing in the doorway as Alastor walked back into the kitchen. Almost everyone had a smile on their face, seeming so casual and enjoying each other’s presence while you stood afar. You watched them all move with such up-beat energy that you nearly jumped out of your skin when Charlie shot up out of her seat and called out to you with a wide grin on her face.

“You’re late!” She exclaimed, grabbing your hand and pulling you over to the chair next to hers.

“Sorry, work kept me late.” You explained weakly, falling into your seat when Charlie pushed you to sit with a bit of force behind her action that had you lose your breath.

“That’s fine, Alastor just finished cooking anyway!” Charlie exclaimed, sitting down and smiling eagerly at you with an almost childlike glow to it, “He made your favorite!”

“Y-yeah… I see that.” You smiled awkwardly, looking away and watching as Niffty zoomed out of the kitchen with a large plate of food, one that you recognized so easily as the one your mother used to make when you were but a child. You watched as everyone reached out and started to serve themselves while Niffty kept zooming back and forth between the dining room and kitchen.

You stared out over the crowd, noticing that Vaggie and Angel were having their usual spat, yelling at each other about god knows what this time. Crymini had her feet on the table, leaning back in her chair as she stared down at her lap at the phone in her hand. She occasionally looked up to laugh at Razzle and Dazzle’s antics, who were currently messing with Baxter and getting such easy entertainment off his easy reactions (which involved a lot of screeching). Husk sat across from you, nursing from a bottle of tequila as he watched Vaggie get more heated by the second from Angel’s nonchalance. You briefly wondered if Charlie was ever going to step in, but it seemed that tonight she could care less as she involved herself in a deep conversation with Mimzy.

Upon all this chaos, you slowly dropped the smile on your face, a scowl replacing it as you stared down at the plate before you. You grimaced, the alcohol from earlier making your stomach twist at the thought of food. You shook your head, making it ache from the sudden movement as you moved your chair back to stand up. You moved to walk around the table, heading towards the door and tuning out the loud banter in the room. No one but Mimzy noticed, and when she called out to you, everyone stopped what they were doing for a short moment to look at you. 

“Hey! Where you going? You just got here and you’re leaving already?” She questioned, crossing her arms.

You paused in the doorway, glancing back at them, “I’m just gonna make a quick call. I’ll be back in a jiffy, don’t worry.” You explained, turning around and jumping back a bit when you almost ran into Alastor. You looked up at him, noticing the way he tilted his head in confusion down at you as he held another plate of your favorite meal. You said nothing other than an apology, moving your gaze to the ground as you stepped aside and continued your stroll to the exit. Not once did you ever notice the pair of eyes watching you.

You stepped back out into the cold, immediately feeling the cold hit your face. Your whole body shivered in response to the chill air of the night. It had you crossing your arms subconsciously in an attempt to save what little body heat you had. You looked around at your surroundings, checking to see if there were any unwanted presence around you. Last time you hadn’t checked the surrounding area of the hotel, a zeppelin blowed a hole into the entrance.

Shivering at the memory of bitch mc-gee’s show of power, you turned and began strolling around the building. You stared up at it and took in all its glory, every crevice, every detail. The place looked like it went through three hurricanes and back, or like dog shit. In simpler words, it looked run-down and awful, but you were sure that the twizzler would get it back up and running. If Rosie taught you anything, it was that when it came to Alastor, he could do some damn impressive things in his achieving ‘entertainment’ in his own means.

You scoffed at the thought. Never will you understand the fondness your dear Rosie had for the maniac. You rubbed your temples, trying to soothe the aching in your head, but it proved to be fruitless. Groaning in discomfort, you decided to focus ahead of you and where you were heading. The tall shadows casted by the hotel left little to see, but it was no issue to you when you finally reached the back alley.

The back of the hotel was your favorite hot spot and hide away to get away from everyone. It was your haven from the loud sounds of laughter and yelling provided from the patrons in there. Out here, you had the freedom to do whatever you wanted away from the scrutinizing eye of others. It was also a place to get your smoke on without having radio shack yell at you. Now that you think about it, having a quick smoke before heading back inside didn’t sound so bad, so without second thought you reached into your back pocket and pulled out the box of cigars you had along with your lighter.

You walked up to the brick wall of the hotel, leaning against it next to the back-exit while you pulled out a stick and lit the end of it. When it started smoking, you took a long drag out of it before pulling back and blowing a white cloud of smoke into the air. You watched it swirl and dance around for a moment, almost memorized by the way the cloud moved. It was only when the cloud of white disappeared that you allowed yourself to pull your phone out, opening messages and instantly tapping on Rosie’s name.

You huffed in annoyance as you noticed she had yet to message you back, “God fucking dammit…” You cursed under your breath, letting yourself fall ass-first to the ground in frustration. You leaned back against the wall, closing your eyes and breathing deeply to control your anger before you ended up punching a hole into the brick wall. You sat up again, pulling your phone up and starting to type a message to once more ask Rosie what she had wanted you to do. Not once did you notice the door open, nor the heavy footsteps coming closer to you until they called out to you.

 “Hey, kid.” A deep and husky voice spoke.

 You nearly jumped out of your skin, letting a few curses slip out as you almost dropped your phone. You snapped your head up, ready to cuss whoever decided to startle you out, but instead surprise replaced your anger as you saw the last person you’d expect to see out here. “Husk? What are you doing out here? Head back inside man, I’ll be done in a sec.”

He shrugged, bringing the bottle of tequila up to his lips, “Just getting some air.” Is all he said before taking a swig, throwing his head back and downing almost half the bottle in an instant.

“Oh.” Is all you said as you watched him drink before turning back to stare down at your screen.

Husk pulled the bottle back down, glancing down at you. He furrowed his brows at the look on your face as you typed out a message to whoever it was you were so focused on texting. He looked away to the bottle in his hand, taking small glances between you and his drink, wondering if whether he should even offer you a sip. He glanced back down to you, watching you smash your fingers onto the bright screen in frustration. He let out a sigh, taking a few steps towards you before plopping down adjacent to you.

You looked up, narrowing your eyes in suspicion of his actions, a small hint of confusion bubbled in the back of your mind. You opened your mouth, ready to tell him off, but he beat you to it by raising the bottle of tequila in offering to you, “Here, drink this. You’ll feel better.” He spoke.

You stared at him in surprise. It was known around the hotel staff that if there was one thing Husk would not separate from, it was his liquor. So, of course it was a shocker when he offered you that bottle. You closed your mouth, not saying anything or even daring to move, and that seemed to make him anxious. Husk thought he’d maybe made the wrong move, seeing as how you didn’t move or reply. He had half the mind to take back what he said, swallowing a pool of saliva in nervousness and opening his mouth to prepare to fix the awkward situation before it got worse. However, there was no need as you raised your hand and grasped the bottle, taking it from him.

“Thanks…” you replied, staring down at the bottle before taking a small sip and handing it back over to him. You tensed when your fingers brushed, feeling a pit of anxiety settle in your gut. You ignored it, however, and continued to stare down at your phone to read through what you’ve already typed down. A scowl formed on your face as you scrolled up to read through previous messages Rosie had sent your over the past month. Whether it was her telling you to listen to Alastor or to be good or to just wait for her instructions, it all had you huffing in anger.

A cold breeze passed through, making you shiver and hug yourself to savor body heat. You let out a sigh, leaning your head back to close your eyes again. The ambience of the area around the hotel filled your ears along with the occasional sound of liquid being jostled around inside a glass bottle. It was then that you realized the cat was still here. You furrowed your brows, suddenly not liking the silence that filled the air between you and Husk. It was thick with awkwardness, and it left you anxious in its wake.

“…it—” you started, glancing up at the cat demon next to you, “It’s just a bit too loud inside… and weird… I’m not really used to such a lively atmosphere, so…” You trailed off, turning your head away from him to avoid meeting his gaze, not that he cared. He didn’t even bother to look down at you, all he did was take a couple more swigs from his bottle while staring up at the dim pentagram in the dark red sky before speaking, “It’s okay, kid. You don’t have to explain yourself to me… I understand.”

Your face twisted in a slight grimace, “Yeah, it’s just really not my thing…”

Husk sighed in slight annoyance but dared not to say anything. Instead, he only shrugged as he looked down at the bottle in his hand. “I get it.” He replied, swirling the alcohol around in boredom.

You frowned, brows furrowing in frustration as you stared at the ground in irritation. A beat of silence settled between the both of you before you squared your shoulders, sitting straight and looking up at the cat in irritation. “See, I don’t think you do. I don’t think we’re really on the same page here.” You spat. You stood up, moving away from him and glaring out around the surrounding area. You took deep breaths in an attempt to control your anger. But it proved to be futile as when you turned around to glare at him, the look on his face that told you he could care less had your blood boiling.

“You all just go on doing all this stupid, kumbaya shit without a care in the world of the consequences.” You started, “You all have this sense of freedom within the hotel, a place that you all seem to call home with no trouble in doing so.” Your teeth were grit in disgust, the anger was building on your shoulders and you tried to keep it contained, but the bucket was overflowing, and it all spilled out and came undone.

“You all have it so easy, don’t you?! You get to walk around here without feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders! Well, I ain’t ever had that shit Husk! People like ME in my situation, in MY line of work are on a one-way conveyor belt to being screwed over and being complete fuck-ups!”

Your hands hurt from how tightly they were clenched. You could feel your claws digging into your flesh and spilling your blood in them. Anger and frustration were coursing through your veins as you had finally cracked under the pressure and stress of the month. The drawer was open, and you could do nothing but release all this pent-up stress by yelling at him. You didn’t know why you were doing it, especially to him out of all people, but all you wanted to do in that moment was to just be angry. And you wanted him to be angry back at you. You wanted him to fight, to yell, to scream at you and smash the bottle over your damn head for even having the gall to say such things in his face. But all he did was just look up at you with this disinterested look that pissed you off even more.

“We don’t GET big, happy, family stuff man! All we do is get moved around until our owners have an excuse to shoot us down!” You cried out in rancor, feeling tears starting to blur your vision as the water works finally unleashed themselves. You raised a hand, making sloppy work of trying to wipe them away. “All this, and you all just— fuckin— wanna make that all better and fix it like it’ll all go away…”

Your hand dropped, the cold air numbing your face even more as the hot tears continued to pour. You clenched your hands tightly and stared down into the ground with a look of distaste, “Don’t patronize me…” You mumbled out tiredly, “I’m not stupid, y’know. I know what cards I got dealt…” You crossed your arms, hugging yourself tightly, “…I know exactly how this will all play out in the end…”

Nothing was said when you finished, your rant was met with nothing but silence. You scowled, keeping your gaze on the ground and dared not to look up. If only you did, you would have seen Husk stare up at you in disbelief at the end of your spiel. Not once did he think that you'd crack under any of their presence, especially with him, and especially with how collected you always appeared to be. Your words were harsh, and to be honest it kind of pissed him off on how much you assumed that they all had better lives. True, here at the hotel everyone had a chance to let loose and be themselves just a bit more than they could out there. But despite that, he didn't let your assumptions or outburst get to him. All he did was huff in in nonchalance, moving to stand while taking another swig of his drink. 

You said nothing, only listening patiently to what Husk would do next. When he finally started moving, you flinched as you heard his heavy footfalls, each step had you dreading what would come next. You were almost afraid of him, your whole-body trembling when you noticed that he stopped just short of you. Not once did you dare look up at him, not wanting to see the look on his face after you just practically screeched him out. So, imagine your surprise when he lowered the bottle from his mouth, not to strike you with, but to speak words that had you tearing up again in an instant.

“I know exactly how you feel, kid.” He started slowly, “I mean, was just like you when I was younger.” You snapped your head up, staring up at him with an incredulous look on your face.. You opened your mouth to say something, but he beat you to it.

“I get it, y’know? I get that it seems like the world is out to trip you at every step. I get the anger when some random, unfair bullshit puts you back at square one.” He takes a quick gulp of his drink, staring up at the sky when he brought the bottle down, “I know how it feels when you think you gotta turn your back on the world, the thought that it can’t hurt you if you push it away.”

He turned his gaze down to you, a look in his eye that made you want to do nothing but cry right there and then for the rest of the night. He furrowed his brows at the tears rolling down your cheeks, “I also know you’re too young to survive that. Fighting the universe will kill you before it kills itself.”

He reached up a hand, going to wipe away a tear before you snapped your head away from his touch. You crossed your arms again as you glared daggers into the ground. “Why are you telling me this, man?!” You cried out in exasperation.

Husk huffed, shaking his head before turning back to you, “’Cause the worlds a shithole.” He started, “It’s hard and I can’t do anything to change that.” He raised his hand again, cupping your cheek and making you look up at him as he wiped away a tear. “But believe me when I say it’s harder when you’re fighting alone.”

He dropped his hand, turning around to face the door as if he were about to walk away, “You want me to leave, kid? I’ll leave. But I’m here offering you a hand…” He glanced back, “You give me the word, let me know you’re not ready to give up on us yet…”

    “Do that, and you never have to be alone again.”

  You said nothing, only staring at him and drowning in those warm pools that made up his eyes. There was something about them that just had you tearing up again. You couldn’t pull away, seeming in a trance and lost in the comfort they provided you. Your chest ached, and your heart throbbed at the way he seemed to look at you at that moment, and it wasn’t until you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket that you looked away.

You pulled out your phone, opening it up and watching the three dots float up onto the bottom of the screen, indicating that Rosie was finally replying to you.

 May I need to remind you that you are not needed tomorrow either?

You are such a busy bee.

Take some time for yourself.

 Her messages had you deflate a bit. You almost threw your phone down in anger if it wasn’t for the next one she sent. You stared at your screen, watching the white text bubble pop up at the bottom of the screen.

  Also, happy birthday love <3

   A choked sob left your mouth. The tears by now were waterfalls and were spilling down onto the screen of your phone and even down to the pavement below. You tried to wipe them away, having a hard time to see what was in front of you, but it proved futile as they only continued to pour. By now, you were a crying mess, the sorrow enveloping your mind along with the tears in your eyes making you blind to Husk’s movement. He walked over to you, stopping when he reached your side. He wasn’t sure what to do, raising his hand and lowering it multiple times while you sobbed an ugly mess. Husk only made a move when you finally collapsed to the ground knees first.

He rubbed the back of his neck, moving to kneel next to you. He opened a wing and wrapped it around you before pulling you close. You immediately caved into his hold, wrapping your arms around his neck and burrowing your mess of a face into his shoulder. He was startled at how easily you latched onto him and allowed your defenses to lower. You always had your walls up, never letting them down around others save for Rosie. But even then, it was rare you’d ever lose your composure. You were this stone-faced demon, almost relentless towards others, but in this very moment you were nothing but a young, small, feeble creature who was just as scared as the others in this damned place.

Husk couldn’t help but feel something nudge against his heart strings. He had this unrelenting force build up inside of him, something that wanted to keep you safe from all the bad things this world had to offer. He didn’t know why he felt that or what came over him, all he knew was that he never wanted to see you so distraught, so broken, ever again. It was that thought that had him wrapping an arm around you, giving you a few pats on your back and wincing when it seemed to make you cry harder.

He felt so uncomfortable in doing that, as if it had been decades since he had last comforted a crying person (which it had), but he made an effort to drown those feelings of discomfort and let you sob into his shoulder. You both stayed like that, your arms around his neck with your face buried into the surprisingly soft fur of his shoulder. His arms and wings wrapped around you in some form of comfort along with some protection against the cold. It was a while before you finally calmed down, enough to mumble out three simple words that would change your life.

   “…I need help…” you mumbled out.

Husk huffed, tightening his hold on you in some form of comfort as if letting you know that he’s there, and that he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

  “Don’t worry, kid… we’ll figure it out… together.”

[bladekindeyewear]

HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2020-09-15

This caught me laaaate at night gosh I’m tired but I’m gonna get it outta the way so it won’t stick in my craw!  Already saw the first page, so it’s time for:

> CHAPTER 13. The Funeral

Church with chess symbols at the peaks and a Prospit/Derse or Hope/Rage split color theme on the stained glass windows.

JANE: Dearly beloved...

> (==>)

Trolls, humans, and papparazzi.  Oh, hm, this church is RATHER carapacian isn’t it?  Between the chess and the continuing Prospit-Derse themes, like how this corresponds to how they align in the incipisphere top-left to bottom-right if I recall:

(Minus the outlying orbs to the left and right for symmetry.)

That twisted pattern is interesting, and not quite a spirograph.  Is that gonna be important later?  If we’re going to get some sort of class chart later in the comic, it’d be easy for them to hint at the chart’s graphical structure subtly by dropping it places like here.

JANE: Ladies... JANE: Gentlemen... JANE: News outlets... JANE: And other valued members of the Human Nation State.

Technically true, but still odd to hear--  ...oh right, I forgot this was asshole dictator-wannabe Jane, too.

I read an interesting twitter thread recently about the intense psychological distinction between wanting to BE the best, and wanting to be TREATED like you’re the best.  Epilogues/HS^2 Jane is kind of written as a case study on the pitfalls of leaning on the latter instead of the former.

> (==>)

They brought Yiffy WITH them-!?  --Oh right.�� The hostage exchange was supposed to happen here wasn’t it.

Yiffy definitely looks like a Harley-Lalonde daughter in this shot.

JANE: Gamzee Makara, High Court Jester, exalted saint of the purple veil, has left us to traverse that grand, gay carnival in the sky, where, I am told by various members of the clownly cloth, he will spend the rest of history, honking in grand tribute to the Mirthful Messiah.

SINGULAR???

Weird.  Is it because Alt!Callie “won” here?

Or is Jane just forgetting because she’s culturally used to monotheism (ironically) and is insensitive.

JANE: And my first memory of our Purple Prince, was his robust codpiece--

Wow.

> (==>)

JANE: --As he offered me his friendly support, along with the sacred blood of his brethren, the holy sacrament--

He STILL killed trolls??! (EDIT: No, a friend points out that she's talking about when she met him first in Act 6 and he tried selling bottles of troll blood to her. EDIT2: -which may be another inconsistency, since Vriska supposedly overwrote that post-retcon.)

> (==>)

It takes Jake a few seconds of puzzled eye contact before he catches exactly what it is Yiffany is tossing down. In his defense, he is distracted by his wife’s speech, which is doing the emotional equivalent of wringing him out like a wet towel, before using that towel to slap the sweaty buttocks of a large, odorous man. Even if he knows everything she’s saying is a load of horsefeathers, it does nothing for his composure to hear her heap praise on that smelly, homewrecking clown.

Bad things about Gamzee deserve to be said here, yes.

Jake wonders what she’ll say about him, at his own funeral.

Now those are some uncomfortable thoughts.

He narrows his eyes in Yiffany’s direction. She’s a lovely girl, really. He wishes he could have gotten to know her under better circumstances. He’d known she existed, of course--Jane had complained about her often enough--but they’d never had much chance to get acquainted. He rather believes her and Tavvy would have been fast friends.

Then again, perhaps it’s better that she never had much of a chance to get to know his family.

He lets go of the leash.

Yep, there’s a plan to set in motion that he’s probably already discussed with her privately.  Gotta unite this four-kid team after all.

> (==>)

Wait, are you ATTACKING?!?  --Of course you’re attacking.  You would even if the plan was something different, wouldn’t you.

JANE: And I know that at times like these it is easy to want to give in. JANE: To throw in the towel, and turn our faces away from the light of democracy and moral fortitude that we, the citizens of the human kingdom, are blessed with from birth. JANE: God knows I’ve had my own faith tested in the last few weeks.

Jesus Christ, what has she turned the place into, a fucking theocracy?

She sounds like the leader of some screwed-up, fundamentalist country!  Like the United States!

*rimshot*

JANE: As many of you know, I did not grow up with the same privileges that all of you enjoy.

Jesus.

JANE: I was born on proto-Earth, that half-finished dystopia mangled by the ravages of foolish leadership and endless war.

Jesus, she really IS a self-evident takedown of hypocritical entitled political figures.  With the bonuses having Jasprose explicitly ADDRESS said entitlement to make things even clearer cut.

JANE: And as for Gamzee, well, his upbringing was even worse. JANE: He was born to a violent and uncaring home, a lonely child with few natural gifts.

...Some natural gifts and status.

> (==>)

She’s just, shaking with fury here isn’t she?  And about to perform an impressive corpse-lob.

JANE: It would be simple to let this disgusting, vile, SHAMEFUL act of spiteful revenge turn us away from the blinding light of the sword of justice that hangs over us all--

This sentence seems suspicious so I’m quoting it to refer to later if I need to, but is probably just platitudes.

> (==>)

JANE: Poised

> (==>)

JANE: Trembling

Okay maybe the sword’s a dick, but what exactly is Yiffany doing??  I’m finding it difficult as usual to tell between some of these image transitions.

> (==>)

JANE: Ready to burst forth--

Bad PR to shock-collar a kid mid press junket.  (Very dicks description.)

> (==>)

Click.  (Did they swap the shock function with Jane’s necklace somehow, that’d be fun.)

JANE: I want to give up, at times. I understand your pain.

While shocking a kid?  GREAT PR.

> (==>)

JANE: I sympathize with your pain.

Wow, those horrified audience members.  She REALLY can’t even see herself anymore can she?  Not even hear herself.  And they’re making sure this is pointed out to EVERYONE watching.  They described this as in large part a PR campaign to defeat her, didn’t they?

> (==>)

Great furious businesswoman-villain look, that art.

JANE: But when that pain! Becomes too hard! To endure! JANE: Remember poor, lifeless Gamzee! Who suffered pain far worse than any of us could ever fathom! JANE: THE PAIN OF BETRAYAL!

Click click click.  This is a fun sequence.

> (==>)

DIRK: Dude, didn’t you lower the voltage on that shock collar? DIRK: Little Red isn’t looking so hot. JAKE: Yes of course i did but the damn doohickys got the kick of a donkey! JAKE: I couldnt remove it completely shed know i was the one who did it! DIRK: Well, if that supervillain cuntwaffle doesn’t stop, she’s going to kill her. Not really the best at hostage management, is she.

Decent plan.  (And of course Dirk would pull out the word cunt.)  When’s the cavalry coming?

> (==>)

JANE: But we cannot allow his memory to be in vain! JANE: For Gamzee Makara taught us that even the most loathsome degenerate can take their place in society. JANE: All they need is the right redemption arc - !

Trying to hammer home some of the Epilogue’s trolly-critical themes a little less bleakly, I take it.

I kind of like the violent vibration in ALL of these gifs in a row.  It makes the scene seem small, slow, teeth-clenching but still full of steady action, emphasizing the importance of the relatively small events from panel to panel while giving them the sense with the animation of them being [i]drawn out[/i] and tortuous instead of just “occurring”.  It feels that way to me, anyway.

> (==>)

If he got up alive here, that’d be hilarious.  (Presumably he’s been treated and done-up like a normal funeral body, not “dormant” and undecaying like a dead god-tier.)

> (==>)

CORPSE PUNT w/ CLEATS

> (==>)

That face is just.  I love that face.

> (==>)

SHE MAD

JANE: Young lady, I am just about at the end of my rope with you. JANE: Throw all the dog bowls you want at the walls of my warship. JANE: But don’t you dare act up in front of a JANE: Live JANE: Fucking JANE: Newsfeed! YIFFY: Grrrrrr

What did you expect to happen?  Do you expect to shout her down from this, Jane?

JANE: After everything I’ve done for you--paying for your education, helping your parents cover up your existence from the world! JANE: Just imagine what Rose and Jade would say if they could see you now, even dissidents can have a little decorum! JANE: Get down from there at once! YIFFY: Grrrrrr

But this is GAMZEE.  --I guess it’s seriously disrespectful to his followers, though.  Still.  If you wanted civility from her, a shock collar, leash, and food bowl wasn’t the way to go about it.

JANE: Don’t you threaten me, young lady. Not today! YIFFY: GRRRRRRRRR

What is your PLAN even, Jane?  You’ve completely disregarded her.

JANE: There’s nowhere for you to go. My agents are swarming this church. Be reasonable, Yiffany. JANE: Ugh. JANE: Disgusting name. JANE: But that’s hardly your fault. You were always just a footnote. Your parents’ little prank. JANE: Honestly, that’s why I helped them all those years ago! I do love a good jape. JANE: But let’s be serious. JANE: You don’t matter. If you did, they would have come for you already.

Can all the press hear her being such an asshole?

Okay, stereotypically, their arrival should be the next couple panels:

> (==>)

Jake, do something useful like hoping harder.

> (==>)

And she knocks the remote away.  Excellent.

And she does. Seemingly at the end of her tolerance for insults toward her name, social status, and heritage, Yiffy performs an impressive backflip off the podium and down onto the church floor. One that, if it hadn’t been happening amidst a sea of other newsworthy events, would surely have ended up on someone’s instagram story within thirty seconds. She gives Gamzee’s corpse one last parting kick: a hard, proper kick that proves those cleats aren’t just for fashion. Although they are certainly also for fashion.

Good, good.

He vanishes into the seething crowd, and we are confident that we will never have to deal with this asshole ever again.

God damnit.

> (==>)

Jake watches this from a safe distance, poised on the edge of intervening to pull Yiffy out of there. But in the end he doesn’t have to. Instead he watches in admiration as she tears the place to utter shreds. An echoing sympathy swells inside of him as she rends apart the funeral flowers and punts Gamzee into the shrieking congregation. Here is a girl who felt the cold, indecent hand of fate wrapping around her, and instead of submitting to it and slowly sublimating down into morasse of boiled doormat, she slapped it away from her with a lively oh, no thank you.

All at once, Jake feels immense affection for his granddaughter. He hopes the two of them can make up for lost time.

Lessons belatedly learned, but learned nonetheless.

> (==>)

JANE: Enough of this. JANE: Seize her!

Kind of Red Queen of you.  (Are those stained glass windows in back of the frame about to burst?)

> (==>)

Yep.

The stained glass window shatters inward, obliterated to stardust. The war is knocking.

Even attacking a disgusting faith’s church is pretty bad form, though.

Tired and busy, seeya next upd8.  <3

[let-it-raines]

CS JJ Day 13: The Spectacular Ms. Swan (1/1)

1959. New York City.

Women aren’t supposed to have their own voices and opinions, and they certainly aren’t supposed to be funny. Emma Swan, however, has a lot of opinions and is damn funny. She also doesn’t care what anyone thinks. 

Except maybe Killian Jones, a comic who has been her supporter since the day she bailed him out of jail after one of his comedy routines. 

Rating: Teen (language mostly)

a/n: I wrote this one-shot last month after watching the Marvelous Mrs. Maisel and told @shireness-says that I was determined to get it finished before my baby showed up, and she said that baby girl would probably show up early out of spite. She didn’t and @shireness-says doesn’t get bragging powers about being prophetic or something. ❤️

Thanks to the admin at @csjanuaryjoy for keeping this GREAT event running!

Found on AO3 | Here |

-/-

It started on accident.

Really, most things in her life do.

There was the getting pregnant at seventeen and then having to get married because it was 1952 and all sins could be forgiven if she was married to the man she slept with.

“He’s a good man,” her mother had said. “A wealthy man. You’ll never have to work a day in your life. Think about the child. Think about your reputation.”

Then there was being a mother and learning that she actually liked it even if she did have things she wanted to do with her life beside spend her days cooking and cleaning and reading every book in existence to Henry until she had to begin making up her own stories to fuel her son’s seemingly never-ending creativity and imagination.

There’s nothing and no one in the world who Emma loves more than Henry, and that will never change.

But he certainly wasn’t in her plan.

Neither was actually falling in love with Neal or enjoying their life together, at least for the first few years. Because, well, he wanted her to be a housewife who always wore heels and measured her waist and her thighs every day to ensure she didn’t gain weight, and Emma much preferred wearing flat shoes and eating a hot dog at a Yankees game instead of a salad at home or some overpriced restaurant. So, of course, like any man who had a wife who didn’t fit into his carefully drawn out lines, Neal wandered away with woman after woman and always came back…to his secretary.

Emma saw them in her bed in the middle of the day, and as much as she had turned a blind eye in the past, she couldn’t do that anymore. She didn’t say anything that day. What she did, instead, was drop Henry off at her parents’ apartment, go to the Rabbit Hole downtown, get drunk off her ass, and then get on stage and tell a room full of strangers the very intimate details of her life.

They laughed.

And laughed and laughed, and a woman sitting in the back of the room came up to Emma with a business card in hand and said to call her tomorrow when she was the slightest bit more sober because she thought Emma had a career in comedy.

So Emma called.

And now, three years later her son is seven, she’s divorced (thank goodness, she thinks, even if her mother is still disappointed in her), and Emma is traveling around the United States as the opening comedic act for the singer Sky Manhattan, which might be the most ridiculous stage name Emma has ever heard.

But she doesn’t care. Not at all. She doesn’t care about stage names or what kind of airplane or train she’s traveling on. She doesn’t care if she’s wearing the newest brand of shoes (she is) or the most on trend dresses (she’s got those too) with a fabulous collection of hats. All she cares about is that she has this thing that’s hers and hers alone. No one can take it from her or threaten to take her to court over it (well, actually they can, but not if she watches her language while on stage) and it’s hers. It’s not because of her parents or her shitty ex-husband who dumped his secretary for a woman who works at the Revlon counter or anyone else.

It’s because she’s damn funny, and she’s accidentally made a career of it.

She’s not making much money and still can’t afford her own place, but it’s a start. Who cares what anyone else thinks?

Oh, she cares about Henry. That’s the one thing she cares about most of all, and if he asked her to give it all up, she would. He’s the only one she’d do that for, and he’s also the only one who wouldn’t ask. Her mother thinks this is worse than getting pregnant out of wedlock, her father happened to walk into a show where she made a joke about her parents’ sex life, and the both of them have repeatedly asked her why she’s doing this and to stop doing this.

Now, they support her, but they also don’t understand. They both come from wealthy families, her mother the heiress to an oil fortune and her father a lawyer, and they’ve never understood why she’d want to go up on stage and tell crude jokes for a living.

(They’re not all crude, but it does happen sometimes. Okay, most of the time. It depends on the venue. But she’s gotten smart about that because jail is not something that appeals to her.)

But this is what she does, and when she’s finished touring, she’s going to fly back to New York, settle into her parent’s five-bedroom apartment in Manhattan, and spend all of the time that she can with her son. Neal never wants to watch him anyway despite his custody threats, so Henry’s always with her parents when she’s gone.

(“It’s not the man’s job to watch his child,” Neal says. “I’ll take him for a beer when he’s old enough.”)

The only bad thing about her job is leaving Henry, but they talk on the phone every night. She’s doing this so she can be happy, like she wants him to be happy when he gets older and is chasing his own dreams, and so maybe one day she can have a little something for herself that she didn’t have handed to her.

“Emma,” Ruby yells out, “be ready in five minutes. And remember today is a clean show, and what’s our number one rule for clean shows?”

“Don’t say ‘fuck.’”

“And our second rule?”

“Don’t say ‘fuck.’”

“You’re a genius, darling,” Ruby sighs, blowing Emma a kiss before walking out of the room with her heels clacking behind her. “And I’m the best manager on the planet.”

That quip was for Sky’s manager to hear, and Emma has to bite her lip to keep from laughing. Whale will kill her if she laughs at that. Or cut her set time in half. Emma would prefer neither, but she guesses dying won’t really be that bad.

-/-

She only says fuck once during her set, it’s a complete accident, and only two people walked out of the restaurant.

Emma would call that a success.

-/-

“With olives please,” Emma tells the bartender, holding up two fingers.

“You know, you can simply order a bowl of olives, and they’ll bring it to you.”

A smile creeps up on Emma’s face, and she swivels in her chair at the sound of a familiar and far too cheeky British accent. “Killian Jones, as I live and breathe.”

“Emma Swan, as I breathe to live.”

“Oof, not one of your best jokes.”

“Wasn’t meant to be.” He leans in to press his lips against her cheek, one side and then the other. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“At a bar in a hotel in Miami? The better question is what are you doing here?”

Killian scoffs and settles down on the barstool next to her, shrugging his suit jacket off and handing it to her. When she raises her brow, he nods down at her lack of sleeves on her dress and all of her pebbled goosebumps. “You’re chilled, and I don’t think your boy will take it well if you freeze to death on my watch.”

“It’s Florida in May. I’m not going to freeze to death. But aren’t you a gentleman?”

“I’m always a gentleman.” He turns away from her quickly and holds up a finger to get the bartender’s attention. “Can you get me a glass of whatever your best rum is and a bowl of olives? And put her drinks on my tab.”

“You are not paying, Jones.”

“I am paying. It’s not often that I see my favorite comedian.”

“You’re full of shit if you say I’m your favorite comedian.”

“Well, if we’re being technical, I’m my own favorite comedian, but I felt that was a little too much to say. I’m trying to be less of an asshole.”

Emma leans her head back and laughs before tugging Killian’s suit jacket around her shoulders. This bar is cold, probably to combat the sweltering heat outside, but she’d never admit that to him.

“I don’t think you can be less of an asshole. Being an asshole is who you are.” The bartender puts their drinks and a bowl of olives in front of them, and Emma immediately pulls the olives off the toothpick in her martini. “I’m the opening act for Sky Manhattan. That’s why I’m here. We’re on tour.”

“What kind of name is Sky Manhattan?”

“It’s his stage name.”

“Fucking dumb stage name.”

“You’re so eloquent with words.”

Killian winks. “That’s why they pay me to talk on television.”

“They pay you to talk on television because you’re funny and you look like a man in every catalog on the shelf at Bergdorf.”

“You flatter me.”

“I try. I want your ego to become so big that your head explodes and you can no longer pop up in random places.” She takes another sip of her drink and leans over to gently push his shoulder. “Seriously. What are you doing in Florida? You live in Manhattan in a fancy apartment.”

“Says the trust fund baby who lives with her parents in their fancy apartment.”

“Hey.”

Killian holds his hands up in mock apology all the while his grin reaches from ear to ear so that his eyes crinkle and the blue of his eyes shines under the dim light of the bar. “I’m working on a show here. It’s only temporary. My contract is up at the end of June, and I’ve had this lovely place to call home for a month already.”

“You’re staying here?”

“Aye.”

“In the land of pastels and peppy waitstaff? Where the bathrooms are pink?”

“It’s a nice change of pace, and since I’m not paying for it, I don’t give a damn.”

“That’s more like you,” Emma laughs, twisting a little further on her stool and leaning into his space. “I’m going to be here for two weeks. Why don’t you come to a show? I think you’ll really like my routine and the guy singing after me is pretty good too.”

“Is that all you have to convince me?”

Her heart picks up its pace as Killian’s hand brushes over her thigh, a light and fleeting touch. “I can get you a free drink and all of the shrimp cocktails you want.”

“I was going to say no, but the shrimp cocktails really do it for me.” He leans in, closer now, and Emma very nearly closes her eyes in anticipation. Of what? She knows, but she won’t even let her mind go there. “I have to run to work. Why don’t you meet me here Saturday night? I’ll take you to dinner and show.”

“I’m working Saturday night.”

“We’ll go after.”

And with that, Killian Jones is throwing cash onto the bar top for a tip and then walking away, leaving his jacket with her.

Damn, she missed him.

-/-

“How was your last day of school, kid?”

“We had cupcakes, and I had two.”

“Two?”

“I wanted three, but Mrs. Horowitz wouldn’t let me have another one.”

“I bet she didn’t want you to spoil your dinner.”

“Cupcakes could have been dinner.”

Emma laughs and stands from her bed, pulling the cord on her phone with her. “Cupcakes are not dinner. Has Grandpa been feeding you cupcakes for dinner?”

“Nope. But he does give me chocolate.”

“Ah, of course he does. I’m going to be home to see you next week before we go to the Catskills for a few days and then I go to Vegas. Are you excited?” There’s no answer on the other end of the line, just a bit of static. “Henry? Kid? Kid?”

“His friend Avery is here, Mrs. Cassidy,” Ashely says over the phone. “He went to play.”

“It’s Swan, Ashley,” Emma huffs. She doesn’t want to snap at Ashely because she’s a sweet girl and helps with Henry far more than she should as her parents’ housekeeper. “Neal and I are divorced, and I changed my last name to my middle name.”

“I have to go, Mrs. Cassidy,” Ashely mumbles. “The boys are climbing on your father’s bookshelves.”

At that, there’s no one on the other end of the line, and Emma doesn’t get the chance to speak to her parents or tell Henry she loves him.

This is her life.

-/-

“Ruby Lucas, I am not going on a date with someone you met today.”

“Why not? He’s from New York, is here on a trip, and he’s cute. I think it could be a good match, and it’s been so long since you dated, which is different than sex, mind you.” “I’ve been divorced for two years and on the road for most of that. I don’t think many men want to date a divorced mother who is a stand-up comedian. Half of them think I’m a witch.”

“That’s because men are idiots.” “And yet you want me to date one?”

“One date,” Ruby sighs, slipping on her heels and smoothing out her skirt. “He’s got money, and he knows people who can sponsor you. Think of it as a business dinner and not a date.” “Well, I can do business dinners, but I can’t tonight. I’ve got plans after the show.”

“The dinner is before the show. What the hell do you have going on after the show? I don’t have anything booked for you.”

Emma turns from Ruby and fixes her blouse, tucking it in before raising her finger and brushing away the red lipstick that’s strayed to her skin. “Killian Jones is in town. He’s taking me to dinner.”

“Ah.”

“What?”

“Well, if you’d told me the man you were sleeping with was in town, I would have changed the date of your dinner with Walsh despite me thinking you need to go on more actual dates and not just sexual rendezvous.”

“I am not sleeping with Killian.” “Please. You can lie to me about a lot of things, but I know when you’re fucking someone.”

“I have never slept with him.” She turns around so Ruby can see her eyeroll. “He’s a friend. He helps me with my routines when we’re in the same city, and he sends Henry an absolutely useless gift at least three times a year. So we’re going to dinner to catch up, and maybe I’ll get some new material for you.”

“I wouldn’t care about new material if you’d fuck Jones.”

“I’m going to fire you as my manager.”

“Never, darling. Now, tits up. You’re meeting Walsh Osbourne in the bar at six. Sweet talk him until you get a meeting for some commercial auditions.”

“I’m doing this for commercial auditions?” “We’re doing this to get our foot in the door for television. You can’t hop straight to one of the variety shows your lover Jones is on.”

“I will stab you with my heel.”

-/-

“Yeah, my son is really into baseball. I got him some tickets to the batting cage and a new bat for Christmas. He – ”

“You’re not funny,” Walsh mumbles after interrupting her in the middle of her answer to his question about what her son is interested in. “I thought you were supposed to be funny. What’s the point of dating you if you’re not funny? I knew women couldn’t be comedians and that you were just a nice piece of ass and a good pair of tits.”

It takes two seconds for Emma to pick up her glass of wine and slosh it across the table at Walsh. She’s been sitting at this table for fifteen minutes, and she doesn’t plan on sitting here any longer.

“Fuck you.”

“You’re also apparently a bitch,” Walsh spits out as she stands. “I have connections, and you can say goodbye to all of them.”

“I don’t need the connections of a sexist pig who doesn’t think women are capable of being funny. I can guarantee you, Mr. Osbourne, that we are, and if you take offense to women not laughing at your jokes or not telling their own jokes all the time, maybe you should look in the mirror and figure out that you’re the one who couldn’t tell a joke to save his life.” “Fuck you. I hope your performance is a failure tonight.” “It’ll certainly be better than yours.”

-/-

She kills it in her set. She’s fucking spectacular and funny, and everyone who thinks otherwise can screw themselves.

Everyone who thinks she has to spend her days only being funny and coming up with jokes can screw themselves as well.

-/-

She sees Killian slip out right before she closes and introduces Sky.

-/-

“Was I funny?” Emma asks, tugging Killian’s suit jacket around her shoulders. She was going to give it back to him tonight, but it’s chilly again. Plus, he’s wearing a different fitted black suit tonight, and he doesn’t need it back right now.

“Pardon?” “How’d you like my set? I know you were watching.” “Was I?” he ponders, tapping his finger against his lips. “I wouldn’t know.”

“You’re being an ass, and you said you were trying to stop that.”

His brows move across his forehead, that same cheeky smile still on his lips. “I may have been there.”

“And what’d you think?”

“Buy me dinner first, and then I’ll tell you.”

They go to a restaurant that doesn’t seem to believe in white-colored light bulbs or volume limits, and Emma loves it. A band is constantly playing, dancers moving around the floor, and the steak she has is quite possibly the best steak she’s ever had.

Killian Jones has always known how to plan an evening and pick out a restaurant.

“Shall we dance?” he questions as Emma leans back into her chair, absolutely full even if she feels lighter than she has in quite some time.

“What?”

“Dance with me, Swan.”

“I don’t dance.”

Killian stands and holds his hand out for her, blue eyes sparkling even under all of the colored lights. “All you need is a partner who knows what he’s doing.” “And you do?”

“Of course, love. I’m an expert in…movements.”

Emma rolls her eyes, but she takes his hand anyway and melts into the warmth of him as his fingers curl around her palm. “That wasn’t your best work. You’re slacking lately.”

If he responds, she has no idea. The music is too loud already, and it gets louder when they move closer to the band. The songs have been fast and upbeat all night, and yet the moment they start to dance, it changes into something soft, slow. It’s probably for the best. Emma really doesn’t know how to dance (or sing) despite everything asking her why she isn’t a dancer when she tells them she’s a comedian, and she’s pretty much got two left feet out here. So she places one hand more firmly in Killian’s, another around his neck, and they sway back and forth.

It’s not proper how close they are, body pressed tightly against body, but she’s never cared for proper.

She’s never cared for rules and expectations, and while that stung when Neal told her that was one of the reasons he strayed from their marriage, she knows that nothing he says is anything she should listen to.

It’s okay if he strays from the conventional path sleeping with her without them being married and going off and fucking his secretary, but the moment she doesn’t want to cook a ham every night, she’s the one who’s too wild.

He never thought she was funny either. That should have been the first sign.

“I’ve been thinking, love.” “I never like when you do that.”

“Yes, yes you do.”

Killian hums and turns them in a circle, his hand sliding lower on her back. “What were you thinking, Jones?”

“You’ve made comments about my jokes being off, and I don’t know…I suppose I don’t feel the need to be funny around you, and it’s nice. There’s not all that – ”

“Pressure? Expectation? The need to always be thinking two steps ahead?”

“Exactly. As much as I like bantering with you and coming up with new material, I like that I can talk about whatever the hell I want without worrying that I’m being too boring.”

Emma looks up at him and sees his soft smile and blue eyes she finds more charming by the minute. “I like that I don’t have to be funny with you, too.”

“Good.”

-/-

“So, quite the nice night.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s five in the morning.”

“Ah, well,” Killian sighs, waving his hand out to the ocean and the few boats moving over it. The sun isn’t rising, not quite yet, and she can still see the stars twinkling in the sky. “We haven’t gone to bed yet, so I still consider it night.” “Well, if you consider it to be night, how can I deny that?”

“You can’t. Where’s your room?”

“Fifth floor. Where’s yours?”

“Seventh.”

They walk in companionable silence until they find the outdoor staircase that leads to their rooms. Emma’s heels are in her hand, have been for the past few hours, but her feet still ache. She should have changed into her flats after the show, but she didn’t stop to think before heading to meet Killian at the bar. Suddenly, they’re standing on the fifth floor, two doors down from her room, and then they’re there standing on either side of her hotel door.

Killian blinks, and Emma blinks back, not sure whether to speak or to search for her keys. She might be too tired to think coherent thoughts. She also might not want this night to end. It’s the first time in a long time where she hasn’t spent hours trying to impress someone, and if she goes to bed, that’ll be over.

(She doesn’t want it to be over.)

(She wants just this one thing, this one night.)

“You’re staring.” “So are you.”

“Well, I do have a particularly pretty face, love.”

She scoffs and rolls her eyes, leaning against the wall and closer to Killian. “Are you going to tell me what you thought of my act now?”

Leaning closer, Killian brushes his hand over her forearm and up her shoulder until he’s tucking her hair behind her ear. A shiver runs down her spine, working its way into her bones, and her skin pebbles. “You were fucking spectacular, Ms. Swan.”

Emma’s cheek blush, and since she can’t look into the ridiculous blue of Killian’s eyes, she digs for her keys in her clutch and pulls it out, sticking it into the lock. The door swings open, the bed immediately in sight, and Emma feels Killian’s intake of breath. She also feels him stepping away.

It’d be so easy to ask him to come inside and ask him to unzip her dress and untie his tie until they’re both undressed and panting against each other, but it’s also just as easy to step inside without him, right?

Right.

(Maybe not just this one thing on this one night.)

“Goodnight, love,” Killian tells her. “I’ll ring you when I’m back in New York.”

“Henry and I will both be waiting.”

-/-

Neal calls her when she’s in Las Vegas two weeks later to tell her that she’s a horrible mother.

He’s seen his son once (for an hour) in the past month, and he lives ten minutes from him.

Emma has seen Henry three times, one of which was for four days in the Catskills, and she’s traveling the country on tour.

She is not a horrible mother, and she will not let Neal’s voice get in her head. Not anymore.

One more month of this, and then she’s home for two months before they go to Europe for the rest of the tour. She can do two weeks in Las Vegas and two more in Palm Springs.

She can.

-/-

Killian sends her a postcard from New York in the beginning of July.

I’m back in New York. Your boy has already convinced me to take him to a Yankees game. I’m sure we’ll be on our fourth visit by the time you get this.

I promise I’ll try not to corrupt him while you’re gone.

Killian’s an asshole.

But a good asshole.

(And maybe he’s not really an asshole at all.)

-/-

“Ah, that sweet smell of urine and concrete,” Ruby sighs as their taxi pulls in front of Emma’s apartment building. “I’ve missed you.”

“There’s been urine and concrete in all of the places we’ve been.”

“It’s not the same, and you know it.”

“I know, I know.” Emma leans over and kisses Ruby’s cheeks. “It’s been fun, my friend, but I don’t want to see your face for at least a week, okay?”

“I don’t want to see your face for two weeks.”

“Then we have an agreement.”

Emma laughs as she exists the car and motions for the doormen to come and get her bags. She definitely has far too many of them for as much as she doesn’t care about clothes, hers seem to keep expanding. She takes one suitcase and a hatbox and quickly walks into the building and to the elevator, and the operator hits the button for her floor. She’s bouncing with excitement, her feet nearly coming out of her shoes, and she’s so close to Henry she might buzz right out of her skin.

“Mom,” he yells when she opens the apartment door. Emma drops her bag and her box and bends down until Henry is running into her arms. “You’re home.”

“Yeah, kid,” she whispers, cupping the back of his head. “I’m home.”

-/-

“My mother wants me to meet a man.”

“Excuse me?”

Emma brushes past Killian into his apartment, and she lets out the low whistle she always lets out every time she’s here. Whereas her apartment is filled with antiques and furniture that can’t be sat on (thanks Mom and Dad), Killian’s apartment is sleek and modern. It’s all clean lines and black and white decorations with little pops of blue. It’s a man’s apartment, and she’s always loved it.

Plus, the view of the Hudson is spectacular.

“I never wanted to be a woman whose entire life revolved around cooking, cleaning, and waiting for their husband to get home to not acknowledge any of that,” Emma rants, kicking off her shoes and immediately walking to his liquor cabinet. She can’t reach the shelf with all of his good stuff, but there’s a cheap bottle of rum just within her reach. “My mom seems to think that I need a husband to rein me in from my ‘rebellious’ phase.”

“You had a husband. You hated being married.”

“I didn’t hate being married. I hated being married to him.” “Ah.” “What?”

“Well, there’s a difference?”

“Yes, there’s a difference! I imagine being married doesn’t suck if you like the person you’re married to and if he doesn’t sleep with every woman he meets.” She pours both she and Killian a tumbler of rum and hands him his glass. He eyes her but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he tilts the glass to his lips and takes a large gulp. “I just…I don’t know why my mom thinks it’s imperative for me to get married again.”

She walks over the couch and curls her legs underneath her while Killian sits in on the other side, propping his feet up on the coffee table. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-five.”

Killian clicks his tongue again, and she’s never noticed how much ginger is in his beard before now. “Well, you’re basically an old maid.”

Emma kicks her foot out at him. “You’re the worst.”

His lips curl into a smirk. “I am undeniably the greatest. And look, your mum is old-fashioned. She doesn’t get why you wouldn’t want to marry just anyone or why you want to spend your days traveling around the world making dick jokes. The one about his dick being so big it was a Richard was inspired, by the way, even if I did know that it was inspired by me.”

“I will stain your white rug with my drink.”

“I’ve got a very nice woman named Greta who knows just how to get that out.”

“Who knew being crude on late night television paid so well as to have a Greta?”

“You did, Swan,” he laughs, taking another sip of his drink before placing it on a coaster. “But back to your mother.” Emma rolls her eyes, but Killian pays her no attention. “She thinks the way to happiness is being married to a nice man and having him provide for you. You have to let her know that you don’t want another Neal or someone you’re only with because it’s proper. You want someone who you love and who lights that fire in your soul that you don’t want to be put out.”

“Someone who I don’t feel the need to be funny around.”

“Yeah,” Killian says slowly, a red blush dusting his cheeks, “someone who you don’t feel the need to be funny with, someone you don’t have to put on an act around.”

There’s always been something about Killian Jones that has unsettled her and yet made her feel comfortable. The night they met she had to bail him out of jail because one of his performances was deemed too crude by the police presence in the bar, and they’ve been circling around each other ever since. He’s wormed his way into her life, and she never really noticed. It’s been in short conversations and trading jokes at a bar, but then it was getting together for dinner and him taking Henry to Yankees games. It was dancing in clubs and almost, almost, almost asking him to come into her hotel room.

It was having him know her better than anyone else knows her.

Slowly, Emma rises from her spot on the couch and walks over to Killian, pressing down and placing her knees on either side of his thighs before she raises her hand and thumbs at the scar on his cheek while her other hand brushes his hair back. Killian blinks up at her, his mouth no longer smirking. Instead, he’s softly smiling at her, and Emma feels a long-forgotten flurry in her stomach.

“Emma – ” She leans forward until her forehead presses against his and until her nose is nudging against his. Killian’s hands are warm against her waist, and she feels it all the way down to her bones, seeping deep within her. “What do you think you’re doing, sweetheart?”

“Being with someone I want to be with, someone who I don’t have to put on an act with.”

His lips are soft and gentle, a fluttering of a movement against her own, and it’s the exact opposite of what she thought kissing Killian would be like. She thought, if anything, they’d be drunk and stumbling across the room, clothes falling to the ground and lips not marking their intended target. She thought her mind would be too fuzzy to think.

That’s not at all what’s happening.

All she can think about is how much she’s wanted this, even if she didn’t realize it but in fleeting moments after nights of alcohol, and how natural it feels to have his scruff burn her chin and to have his lips caress hers.

This is good.

This is a fire she would never want to put out.

“You’re not going to regret that and talk about it in your act, are you?” Killian chuckles while kissing the corner of her cheek and then her jaw, his lips like magic.

“Regret it? No. Put it in my act? Absolutely. I’m not sure how I’m going to make it funny, though,” she sighs, pressing herself further into him, “because there’s nothing funny about this.”

“No, love, I don’t think there is.”

-/-

She wakes up the next morning to Killian kissing her bare skin and whispering words to her that have chills running down her spine.

They go to a Yankees game with Henry, and Killian buys far too much ice cream, not that Henry would complain. Not the Emma would either. She’s too damn happy for any of that.

And he doesn’t judge her for eating a hot dog.

-/-

All Killian wants for Emma is to be happy and live life how she’s always dreamed of living her life, not by whatever standards are expected for her.

Oh, and to keep on being the spectacular Ms. Swan.

(It’s Mrs. Jones now, but the stage name of Ms. Swan has a nice ring to it.)

(She keeps on being damn funny.)

-/-

-/-

Tag list: @csjanuaryjoy​ @stahlop @shardminds @carpedzem @captainsjedi  @galaxyzxstark @thejollyroger-writer @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @xellewoods @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @shireness-says @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @a-faekindagirl @ultimiflos @jamif @dreameronarooftop15 @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke  @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @teamhook @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @superchocovian @ultraluckycatnd @cs-forlife @andiirivera @qualitycoffeethings @jonirobinson64 @mariakov81 @spartanguard @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious (because we talked about it yesterday...let Lenny live 😉)

[misssophiachase]

Putting this here just in case: Celebrity Klaroline, they are co-stars on a super popular show and have been secretly dating for years. They decide to reveal to the public that they are engaged via an Instagram-live during quarantine.

Thank you, luv, this one is so much fun and reminds me of Bob and Eliza my  Bellarke babies : ) So, they are my inspiration. I hope you like it, it got a bit longer than I’d envisaged. 

Do You Want to Know a Secret?

“So, let me get this straight,” she began. “You’re going to announce your engagement via Instagram Live?”

“Didn’t we just say that?” 

“I was repeating myself to emphasise my point not because I didn’t hear you,” Rebekah growled, looking between them. Even via Skype she still had that scary ‘don’t mess with me’ demeanour. “Last time I checked I was your publicist and it’s my job to tell you when you are doing something stupid, today is case in point.”

“And while we appreciate the, uh, services you provide, little sister,” Klaus mumbled. “It really is up to us how we let people know about the engagement.”

“You’ve been secretly dating for years, not one paparazzi shot, not one late-night TMZ ambush, not one Perez Hilton catty headline, not one on-set insider account, not one secret, comic con moment, not…”

“We get the picture, Rebekah,” Caroline interrupted. “We’re stealth as Kol would say.”

“Did he put you up to this? Because on further reflection it seems like one of his immature, ill-conceived ideas.”

“I’ll tell him you send your love, Rebekah,” Klaus teased thinking about his little brother and manager.

Klaus Mikaelson and Caroline Forbes were co-stars of the most popular sci-fi drama on television. Their characters were engaged in an on-again-off-again romance but what the public didn’t know was their favourite on-screen couple were off-screen as well. 

Not that it had started out that way, in fact it was more adversarial

2 years earlier…

“You did not just kick me there!” He growled, rolling around on the floor in pain. The director had just called ‘cut’ and the series leads were fighting, yet again.

The tension between them had been present from the first audition and the producers thought it was exactly what they needed in their two leads Cole Hamilton and Riley James.

As predicted, there was fireworks on-screen but off-screen was another story. The tension bubbling below the surface was threatening to boil over. The cast and crew were taking bets on when they were going to finally relieve the tension.  

“Like I meant to,” Caroline replied, the slight smile tugging at the end of her lips was telling him otherwise.

“Maybe we should get you a stunt person if you’re going to be such a danger on-set, love?” He insisted, eventually standing up fully recovered.

“Maybe we should get you one of those protective cups for your privates, you know just in case the stunt person accidentally does the same?”  

Their mouths were now within inches of each other, their intense gaze showing no signs of faltering.

As it turned out the tension did boil over in her trailer later that day. Bets were won and the couple found ways to relieve the tension, first as a physical arrangement but then they went and fell in love.  

“Keeping our relationship out of the public eye has been amazing because we’ve been able to do things at our pace without any intrusion from the media, but it has also been the most difficult experience,” Caroline explained. “There’s only so many years of Uber Eats and Netflix I can handle.”

“Don’t forget the chill part, love,” Klaus murmured in her ear.

“Way to put me off my breakfast! Even I can hear you, Niklaus,” the familiar sound of his brother-in-law came over the speaker. 

“Well Lorenzo, maybe you two should go and do that and we can….”

“Why can’t you just put up a cute picture and caption it with a ring emoji? I know it has all been done before but…”

“Everyone is doing Instagram Live, especially during the pandemic.”

“So if they all jumped off a bridge would you do that too, Niklaus? Also, don’t forget I have your Instagram password, Nik.”

“Unbelievable! How did you…” he trailed off before Caroline intervened. 

“You don’t know mine. Look, Rebekah, we appreciate your concern but it’s time to go public. And what better time than during a world crisis? If you ask me people need some good news, now more than ever.”

“Fine, I don’t agree but if you’re going to do this you realise there’s no way to control things once you start? People will be going crazy, more so since they’ve been cooped up in isolation and had no idea you were dating let alone engaged.”  

Two hours later

“We ready to do this?” She smiled, placing her hand on his. Yes, it was a completely unusual way to announce their engagement, let alone their secret relationship.

“As much as I’ve loved having this time to get to know you,” he murmured. “I’m excited for this next stage in our lives.”

“I know, it will be nice not to have to sneak around anymore,” she shared. “Although, I’m not looking forward to the hate I’ll get from all your female fans upset you’re off the market.”

“You’re worried about my fans, yours are absolutely rabid, love.”

“Well, at least we have the Ciley fandom,” he chuckled. “What do you think they’ll call our real-life ship?”

“The fact you’re asking that means you have been cooped up in quarantine too long,” she teased.

5 minutes later

Before they’d even started to speak the love hearts were flowing in a bright array of colour and the comments began and not just a couple, thousands within the first couple of minutes.

Turns out their fans didn’t need any words to work out what was happening given their steady stream of comments.  

“Some of you might be wondering…oh looks like many of you have come to that conclusion already given the comment from @mark91,” Klaus began, “And yes, agreed, I’m a lucky dog.”

“What he’s trying to say is that…oh @jazzy39 glad you like my sweater. But…”

“I’m sorry @rayna001 but yes I’m taken,” Klaus read, a  slight chuckle escaping his lips. “Funny you should mention that actually..”

“We wanted to announce that oh @arabella5700 looks like we don’t need to do that anymore.”

They looked at each other briefly before realising their news wasn’t really theirs anymore.

“Yes, we’re engaged,” Caroline murmured feebly, holding up her left hand which keen-eyed fans had already spotted within the first 30 seconds.

“And what better way to announce it than with out fans,” Klaus smiled. “Now, if only we had our own ship name…”

“Looks like @hermione1992 has already offered an option,” Caroline interrupted. “Klaroline, mmm interesting. What do you all think of that?”

After they’d fumbled through quite a few more questions, including what her dress was going to look like and if her co-stars Katherine Pierce and Bonnie Bennett would be bridesmaids, they finished the live stream.

“OMG,” Caroline moaned, flopping onto the couch next to him. “I’m exhausted.”

“It’s like the banks of the dam have given way and…”

“All those questions, it’s like two years worth of them all stored up,” Caroline murmured. “Your sexual prowess was one of my personal favourites.”

“Which you didn’t answer,” he pouted. “People out there are going to think I’m bad.”

“Yeah, because I was going to go into that on an Instagram Live,” she muttered. “I’m sure the parents of our younger fans would love that.”

“And after all that we didn’t get to make our own announcement,” he complained. “They are an observant bunch.”

“Well, give we’re all supposed to be in lock-down I imagine us being in the same place was a dead giveaway. We are now officially hashtag klaroline though,” she giggled. “It kind of has a nice ring to it.”

His phone beeped signalling a new message, Klaus didn’t have to be a genius to realise exactly who it would be. He picked it up lazily and consulted the screen.

“So, how did that go for you?”

“She’s never going to let us live that one down,” Klaus groaned.  

[pendragonfics]

You Seemed So Happy

Paring: James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes/Reader

Tags: gender-neutral reader, no pronouns in fic, alternate timeline, canon divergence - after Captain America: Civil War, Avengers Tower, domestic Avengers, Bucky Barnes recovering, Bucky Barnes feels, rain, first kiss, fluff

Summary: A longtime lover of inclement weather, Reader is often seen mucking around in their rain shoes outside. It just so happens that the newcomer to the Avengers Tower, a recovering Bucky Barnes has taken note in them, and their somewhat peculiar habits.

Title comes from this song (recommended listening while reading)

Word Count: 2,411

Current Date: 2019-11-20

Requested By: @karasong​

Without a doubt, the best part of any day was checking the weather app. It wasn’t always fruitful in its outcomes, and whenever Thor made his way to the Avengers Tower, you’d be sure to make him change the weather for you. It had gotten to the point where if there was rain forecasted for the week ahead, you’d set your rain jacket and galoshes out in preparation. You’d cancel all plans for days when the rain would roll in.

Luckily, your day job was being a superhero.

By the time that the newest Avenger came to live in the old Stark Tower in New York, everyone else had lost the thrill of teasing you over your adoration over precipitation. And if you were being completely honest, you were glad that they weren’t rubbing it in all the time. You didn’t tease Tony Stark about his love of Judge Judy, or Sam Wilson about his liking of bath bombs. But as soon as your new neighbour to the twelfth floor came in, he was the newest attraction.

James Buchannan ‘Bucky’ Barnes.

With a name like that, he could be many things. You grew up on the other side of the world, it would seem - because before joining the team, you had a) no clue as to who Captain America was, and b) had never heard of the Winter Soldier. Which, you assumed after some context, was James. Wait no, he preferred Bucky. You were still getting used to his many names, among other things.

While you were a morning person of sorts, the only time you ever crossed paths with your new teammate was at the elevator one evening. Not that you were one to objectify openly, but the man - he was sure fresh out some trauma that you were still wrapping your head around, but oh my, was he a looker.

But today, there wasn’t a sign of him at all upstairs. After a movie night with the remaining Avengers, you fell asleep midway through Mama Mia! and woke up on the couch. When whoever’s left are given a budget and told to stay out of trouble when the other half of the team are in Portugal for the latest hero-ing your skillset wasn’t needed for, movie nights become the thing when someone joins you. So far, only Clint joined you when he was able, but that was just because he liked that you only watched movies with closed captions.

It was going to be a normal day.

But then, after stretching, you checked the weather app. And lo and behold, there was the best news of the day: a change in the prediction. Light to moderate rain in the morning, followed by heavy rain in the evening, it said, summarised with the humidity and the other details you didn’t quite care for. At once, you felt your pulse quicken, and you threw yourself from the cramped corner of the couch to the elevator.

Mashing the buttons, you paced the space as the box descended, and as soon as you free from it, you ran to your room and donned the right clothes to explore in the rain. You pulled your hair from your face and brushed haphazardly at your teeth. Washed your face and tossed the clothes you slept in into the hamper. Pulled on the galoshes and your favourite tee shirt and the rain jacket too. You were so happy, you felt your abilities sparkle beneath the palms of your hands, your feet growing light as your happiness translate into partial hovering. Bounding like a kangaroo on the moon, dressed, you rush back to the elevator.

Bucky stood there, also waiting.

He wore black jeans, and boots, and a grey hoodie. They looked like new clothes. Like, they were so new that they hadn’t been washed yet after coming home from the store. As you joined his side, you met Bucky’s eyes. He’d cleaned the dirt that was spread across his face since you last saw him. Not that you had anything against people who wore eyeliner! You’d give him a pointer or two if he wanted to wear it again, that was for sure. And his hair was pulled back into a haphazard ponytail.

“Hi,” you say, beaming.

He blinks. “Hi,” Bucky echoes.

As soon as the elevator comes, you both enter it. As you reach for the button for the roof, your hand brushes alongside his. You’re not sure why, but you feel a little zap! of electricity as you do. Maybe it’s the energy your body is creating from the excitement, or just static from the rain, but Bucky looks at you funny, and presses for the roof.

“I’m headed there too,” you make conversation, poking your hands in your rain jacket pockets. “For some very important business.”

He raises an eyebrow, silent. As the elevator ticks upward, you sway, rocking back and forth on your feet as you wait patiently for the destination. Ever since the roof was refurbished from being Tony Stark’s personal living room to the loft living space - usually used for fancy soirées or stuff like that - you fought to have a little greenhouse outside too, and access to the tip-top of the building. Because of your abilities, and a promise that you weren’t going to go crazy and cultivate fifty types of roses, it was allowed.

As soon as the elevator opened, you waited patiently for Bucky to alight before rushing out. You barely paid him any attention as you made your way to the balcony, and once the doors let you out, you felt your abilities pricking underfoot. At once, you soared up to the top of the Avengers Tower, your rain jacket and boots almost a comical hero-costume as you flew through the rain.

It wasn’t as heavy as you thought it would be, the droplets splashing over your face and head lightly. In your glee, you shot your hands out before you, and without thinking, propelled two bolts of energy from your palms into the sky.

Thankfully, there weren’t any planes in the sky today.

Looping around, you were surely a spectacle to be seen above the Avengers Tower. While the people of New York and beyond America’s borders knew of your existence on the team, you were still a new face that wasn’t as popular an action figure as say, the Black Widow doll. Before returning to the top floor of the tower, you spread your arms wide, as if to embrace the sky, and propelled yourself backwards.

You landed on the top floor, laying softly on the concreted ground. The rain continued to fall around, the droplets gathering on your face to make it run as if they were tears and you were from a Ghibli movie.

“Best day ever,” you grinned to yourself.

---

The next time there’s rain, you’re out in the street, running errands. It’s almost a month later, and the dry spell has gotten to you. Except, unlike any other time when you’d be very thrilled for the rain, you’re carrying groceries back to the Avengers Tower with Steve and Bucky, and don’t want the shopping to get wet. Steve barrels ahead of the both of you, sparing sorry!’s and excuse me!’s to those who he knocks into. You try the same, but it’s no use.

You’re not Captain America.

Bucky loops his gloved hand through the bags you’re carrying and whisks them from your grasp. People move out the way for him and his imposing stature, and you follow him swiftly through the path he carves in the crowds of the New York footpath back to the tower. Once inside, he calls the elevator with his spare elbow and turns to you.

His face is sodden, hair dripping into his eyes like a baptised puppy dog, his clothes soaked through. You’re no better, glad that you wore a jacket over your white shirt so that it isn’t see-through to others’ eyes.

“I thought you liked the rain.” He says as the doors open.

You blink, following him inside. You’ve never heard him say this many syllables except to Steve. You try to hide the shock of it with a shiver, and reply, “I do like the rain. It was just-,” you shiver once more, the movement of the elevator providing the interior with an uncustomary breeze, “-a little unexpected.”

Once the elevator reaches the common area, you both approach the communal kitchen. Steve’s already unpacked his bags and has started to put odds and ends away. As he’s turned to the pantry, he calls over his shoulder, “I’ve got it this time. Thanks for carrying the bags, ________, Buck -,” he beams, and turning, adds, “Why don’t you go get dry?”

You thank him but ask, “You’re wet too, Cap. How about we tag team?”

Steve shrugs. “Thanks, but I don’t feel the cold.” Bucky goes to interject, and the leader of the Avengers adds, “Seriously, I’m good. It’s been a while since you’ve both had a day off. Enjoy the time off.”

Bucky joins you in the elevator, and you return to the level you sleep on. Parting ways upon exit, you only meet up with him again not ten minutes later, when you’re drier. This time, you’ve donned your favourite socks (the ones with avocado’s with faces) and a tee-shirt that Thor gave you (it’s the demi-god’s size, with a print of Thor as Nyan Cat on the front) and of course, your raincoat and boots. Bucky’s in a different all-black set of clothes, and he calls the elevator as you join him at it. Waiting.

“Are you going to the roof?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you nod. A second passes, and you wonder, “are you?”

Bucky nods. There’s a look on his face as you both ride to the roof that you just can’t put your finger on. You don’t have any time to really question what that look is because he turns to you and starts to speak.

“I used to be happy like you are about the rain,” he says. There’s a sigh, barely audible, but you catch it. “I used to be happy…about a lot of things.”

You swallow offhand. Slowly, you gather your words before offering a reply. “I don’t know much about what you went through, before coming to us…but if you like, I can help you.” Bucky looks at you quizzically, and the elevator reveals the top floor of the tower. Stepping out, you correct yourself, “I mean, I can help you with your thing about the rain. Or other stuff. I’m not the most qualified, but I’ll give it a shot if you want.”

He exhales, but it’s then you realise that it’s an attempt at a laugh. You smile at that and move toward the balcony.

“What makes you like the rain?” Bucky asks.

He’s trailing behind. You can see him in the reflection of the glass windows, and as he gazes out, you can see a look there that you recognise. Hesitation.

“I didn’t always like it,” you say. “When I was a kid, the rain freaked me out. It felt weird, like, too much to handle on my skin. But then one day I woke up one day and realised I could shoot energy from my hands, and fly, and I was eight, nine years old?” you scrunch your nose, trying to remember. “Now that is scary. Rain turned into a piece of cake after that, and when I got used to being basically a kid hero, nothing much could really freak me out.”

You look to Bucky. “You don’t have to tell me what’s going on with you, but…” you unlatch the door to the balcony and start to step out. The rain patters down upon your face as you go, but you wait for Bucky to follow. “May I have this dance?”

“Dance?” he echoes.

You grin. “Well, if I’m goof off on the roof with you, buddy, we’re dancing. You know, the kind like-nobody-is-looking?”

Bucky glances behind him and sees you’re alone together. “But you’ll be looking too.”

You close your eyes and hold your hands up as if in surrender, “At a risk to my safety, I will not be looking. Besides! I’m a crappy dancer myself.”

You hear Bucky’s footsteps follow you out, feeling him ghost past you with a slight breeze that follows. Quietly, you turn to where you feel he is, and say, loud enough for J.A.R.V.I.S. to hear, “Play The Horses, Daryl Braithwaite, please.”

You thank Tony Starks’ surround-sound system as you start to sway in your space. As the beat kicks in, you start to move faster, feeling more and more confident. You stomp your feet in the wells of puddles growing underfoot, shaking your arms and chest in a half-hearted shimmy, busting out the tried and true bedroom-only moves. The climax of the song comes, and you feel yourself collide with Bucky -

Your eyes shoot open, shocked, but as you see his face, he’s far from upset. His eyes are wide, yes, but at the corners of his lips, there’s the faintest tug, and your heart jumps, pulse fast. You bite your lip, unsure what to do next, but he takes charge. He places his hands on your shoulders, and almost like you’re slow dancing, Bucky leads you into a swaying movement.

There’s a clap of thunder somewhere off, and in the flash of lightning that follows, you feel his hands tense up. Your move your palms to rest on his, and almost so slow that you didn’t realise it was happening until it was, he closes the distance between you. Just as the last part of the song comes, his lips rest upon yours, parting them, pressing in such a delicate way that your already racing heartbeat skips a beat.

“Oh,” you say, the kiss taking all your wits from you.

No words come when your wits return, nor does Bucky supply them. He threads his fingers in yours and looks out across the city, the rain still cascading over the both of you. However, some words come, and they do so as he turns to you, his eyes bright and full of something that you recognise. “I think I - I think love the rain.”

You squeeze his hand lightly, just as the song ends. “I love the rain too.”

[nikkzwrites]

Yesterday Once More | Dark Fix-It Fic Series | Chapter 12

A/N: This fic is one that I started with my OC because honestly, I personally didn’t like how season 3 ended. So I am rewriting all of Dark with my OC Annalise Dahlheim. I hope you all like it. Some things will be expanded more on just for more depth to Dark that season 3 kinda skipped over so…. yeah.

CW: Canon Typical Triggers: Smoking, Sex, Language, Drugs, Drinking, Death, Violence, Suicide Mentions, Cutting, Violence.

Word Count:  6.9k

[First Chapter] [Previous Chapter] [Next Chapter]

“We have managed to stabilize the God Particle and the resulting mass,” Claudia’s recorded voice echoed through the empty power plant, “In a stable state, it seems to create a kind of portal which allows for time travel. If the matter is supplied with sufficient voltage, it can be kept in a stable state in the long term. Sending objects through the stabilized matter has already proven possible.” Jonas stared at the swirling dark mass before him as the recording continued, “A generator has to supply sufficient AC current for that. Even after lengthy observation, we’re not sure what the energy source of the unstable matter is. Measurements indicate there is no form of energy loss.” Jonas looked down at his sheet as he continued to work on the machines trying to make a portal for him to go back home. “It appears to be a type of self sustaining recursive system.” Jonas stood back and threw the switch. Frustratingly, the system still didn’t work as the prerecorded Claudia droned on, “The matter’s radiation levels exceed control values. Still no sign of decay has been observed. This is consistent with the laws of conservation of energy, yet contradicts the second law of thermodynamics. Moreover the matter seems to exist independent of external temperature, in solid, liquid, and gaseous states at once. And the molecules seem to be in a constant cycle.” Jonas tried once more. Only this time the machine actually powered up. The ball formed into a perfect sphere causing Jonas to start awestruck at the dropping sphere only for the power to stop. He turned around annoyed trying to find the source of the problem. There, the generator lacked the proper oil to continue.

The sun rose on the 22nd of June 1987. It was five days until the apocalypse. Mikkel shot up in his new bed. There on his wall was a picture of the Goonies. He squeezed his eyes closed and slowly opened them again to study the ‘Captain Future’ and ‘Nuclear Navigators’ comics scattered across his floor. He slowly pulled himself out of bed and shook his head. He could almost feel like Annalise was there. Like a phantom of her fleeting across his imagination. He slowly made his way downstairs where Ines was working on making a sandwich for him. 

“Hey, sleepyhead. We’re running a bit late today,” Ines commented. She packed his lunch into his bag. When she saw Mikkel just staring at her, she sighed and said, “Come on, everything will be fine. Just one more week and it’s summer vacation.”

Part of him wondered if this was what it was like for Jonas on his first day back to school. He sighed and recounted to Ines, “It’s my mother’s birthday today.” He longed to be there. He knew in his heart that had he been in his time, Magnus and Martha would be rushing around downstairs decorating as Ulrich swooped back into the house with the last of the needed icing for the Black Forest gâteau Annalise was making. His heart yearned to be on the counter kicking his legs as he stole some of the cherries that were going to decorate the top of the cake. As punishment, Annalise would place a bit of Ganache on the tip of his nose while licking the rest off her finger with a smile that lit up his dreams. Ulrich would then place a bit of the left over batter across her cheek using one of the spatulas that she had used to stir it and wink at his son as if he knew how much Mikkel loved her.

Ines slowly put down her keys and cupped the boy’s face, “You know what we said about that.” She tried to reason with Mikkel, “The past is the past…” She brushed his hair away from his face.

Mikkel nodded, “The now is now.” 

Ines caressed him before asking, “Shall we?” At Mikkel’s shrug, she stood up and told him, “Come on.” She led him outside so that he could go to school without any more talk or thoughts of his past life.

Claudia called through her house, “Regina! You’re going to be late!” She turned to Egon and told him, “The French delegation is visiting the plant. I just can’t do it.”

Egon shook his head and explained, “No problem. I don’t have anything else to do.”

Claudia stormed to try and find her daughter, “Regina!”

“I can really do this more often,” Egon told his daughter. When Claudia walked back Gretchen followed her. Something in the back of the man’s head tingled with familiarity. “Where did you find this little one,” he asked Regina. He scooped the dog up into his arms as Claudia stared at him in panic. “Looks like Gretchen,” he commented.

Claudia shook her head quickly lying, “Nonsense.” She took the dog from the confused man and called for her daughter once more, “Regina! Where are you?”

“Listen,” Egon confessed wavering, “I actually wanted to talk to you. There’s something I have to tell you.”

Regina, who was finally ready to go from straightening her hair, walked out right at that moment, “Hi, Grandpa. Can we go?” She was in a rush to go and she walked around with her head held high and a newer self confidence that could only be led back to her meeting the boy Aleksander.

“No need to say bye.” Claudia yelled, “No problem!” After hearing the door slam, she turned back to her father and asked, “You wanted to tell me something?”

Egon bit his lip and shook his head. He, then, nodded and told her, “Never mind. Alright. I will see you later.” He walked out following his granddaughter. 

At the police station in 2020, Charlotte stared at the picture of Noah and Sic Mundus. She turned it over to confirm that on the back it indeed still read, ‘8. January 1921. Sic Mundus Creatus Est.’ She looked up and rolled to her search engine on her work computer and typed in ‘Sic Mundus Creatus Est.’ When she searched it she came across the meaning, ‘Thus the world was created.’

Clausen walked into Charlotte’s office and informed her, “The interview with Mrs. Tiedemann. Already forgotten?”

Charlotte shook her head, “No. I thought you might do it alone after all.”

“Why,” Clausen raised his brow, “Do you have something better to do?”

Charlotte’s hands raised defensively, “No. I just wondered why we’re starting with Mrs. Tiedemann. She has no link to any of the missing people.”

Clausen sighed, “Everyone disappeared near the caves and the nuclear power plant grounds.” He walked in as he explained, “Your colleague Ulrich Nielsen’s brother disappeared in that area in 1986 as well. And then… There’s also the door in the caves leading right to the nuclear power plant.” He leaned over the desk and asked her, “How long have Aleksander Tiedemann and his wife been married?”

Charlotte furrowed her brow then shook her head looking at him, “I don’t exactly know. Regina was… in her mid twenties. Why?”

“Don’t you find it unusual,” He asked. 

Charlotte asked for clarification, “What?”

“That Aleksander Tiedemann took his wife’s name,” Clausen spoke. 

Charlotte shook her head, “No.”

“Shall we go,” He asked her again.

Charlotte, taking the hint, stood up and started to walk out. When Clausen didn’t make an immediate move she called to him and asked, “Are you coming?”

“Yes,” he called to her as he walked away still curious about what his colleague was trying to hide from him.

Elizabeth stared at her book that she got from her great grandfather’s old shop. She was completely absorbed in it that she nearly didn’t notice her sister standing up to go get the door. She was a bit confused because their parents weren’t supposed to be home yet.

Hearing the doorbell, Franziska stood up and walked to the door. She opened the door to reveal Magnus. Annoyed, she asked him, “Hey, where have you been?” He paced inside with the girl hot on his trail, “Why didn’t you call me back? I was trying to reach you the whole time.”

Magnus turned to her and scowled, “Last year, I know where you got the money.” He shook his head and quoted Bernadette, “ ‘Blow job 40 euros, anal 85. Kinky stuff costs extra?’ Who did you do it with, huh? Who did you blow in this damn shithole?” Franziska’s face contorted in confusion and hurt as Magnus continued, “Nothing has changed. Everyone lies. Everyone cheats.”

Franziska shook her head. Her face reddening from trying to hold back tears, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I followed you,” confessed Magnus, “I know who you get your money from.”

Franziska took a large breath and angrily asked, “So your first thought is that I prostitute myself?”

Sneering, Magnus replied, “What else?”

Franziska yelled at him, “I don’t sell my tits or ass! I sell hormone therapy prescriptions, you idiot! My father used to use them to pay for his visits. He stopped going and now I’m the new supplier.”

Magnus stared at her and shook his head, “Why do you do it?”

“I help her, she helps me,” Franziska shouted at him, “It’s that simple!” Magnus started to shake his head causing the girl to continue, “The secrets aren’t the problem, it’s the shit we all project onto others. I said it’s none of your fucking business, and it isn’t! I can’t believe you spied on me. How messed up are you?” She stormed past him to go back into the den to sit on the sofa. 

Magnus stared at her for a second before storming out the house.

The older Jonas watched as the girl started to cry in her sleep. He reached over to her and started to wipe her tears away. He kissed her forehead and wrapped his arms around her pulling the girl on top of him. Her hair stuck to his beard as he kissed the top of her head once again. He held her closer as she started to thrash and scream.

Annalise was drowning in the void. It felt as if someone, or something, was dragging her down deep within the depths. Before, she was on a small makeshift raft with Bartosz, Magnus, Martha, Regina, and Aleksander, a storm hit causing her and Martha to be thrown overboard. But now she was in a deep, black void.  As she cried out, it only felt as though the dark liquid rushed into her mouth and lungs. Every turn she saw another cold, swollen, lifeless face there with her. Mikkel, Erik, Jonas, Ulrich, Yasin, Helge, her own father Lukas, and when she looked down, there smiling up at her, each holding an ankle was herself and David. Every fiber of her being was on fire, yet ice cold.

Jonas winced at her scratching at him as if she were a caged animal. He called to her, “Annalise, my love. Wake up.” He squeezed her a bit tighter in his arms, “Darling. Wake up.” 

Annalise shook awake. Her body convulsed as it coughed up air as if she was choking. Her eyes released more tears as she tried her best to breathe. She buried herself into the man’s neck and wrapped herself around him.

He slowly pulled her close to him and lifted them out of bed. He cradled her as he walked with her still crying into his shoulder. He cooed, “I know. I know. It’s okay. You’re safe now. You’re right here with me. Everything’s okay.” As he comforted her, she only responded by wrapping her arms around his neck tighter. He sauntered to his bag and wobbly bent down to place it on the chair so that he could grab a clean shirt out of it. After placing the clean shirt onto his arm, he slowly started to walk them to the shower. Jonas started it running. He whispered into her ear, “I’m going to slip if I keep holding you like this. Are you okay?” When he felt her nod, he placed her down gently and grabbed her face. He kissed right in the middle of her big puffy red eyes. Jonas told her, “It won’t take long okay?” He put his shirt in the sink.

Annalise nodded. She looked at his chest finally to see tiny red scrapes that seemed like claw marks. 

When Annalise reached to touch the scratches she gave him, Jonas turned from her and chuckled, “don’t worry about it.” He said, “As you can see, you have to do a lot more than that to hurt me. I have thick skin.”

Her lips trembled as she nodded and waited for him to be done before going in herself. She washed away the cold sweat off of her. She could feel him still there in the room with her, yet she just focused on the warm water carrying all the fear from her.

Jonas stared at her form hidden from him by the curtain. He didn’t want to leave her alone just in case. He knew what trauma did to people all too well. He turned to face himself in the mirror. He stared at his face wondering how, if things were different, would he still be the same. Would he still look like this? He tried to imagine what Annalise herself would look like. He only ever knew her at this age. Would she still love him if she were able to go past this?

Annalise slowly turned off the shower. She dried herself off and walked out. She noticed him looking distressed. She smiled gently at him, “Is there something wrong?”

He shook his head, “No. I’m sorry for worrying you.” He watched as she stole one of his old hoodies and slipped it on. A smile spread across his face. His heart was young and light once more. His eyes lit up. His troubles felt so far away seeing her in his clothes. He couldn’t believe he took all of this for granted so long ago.

Annalise gave him a hug and asked Jonas, “Should we head downstairs? Get some breakfast?” She kissed his hidden jaw.

Jonas nodded, “Yeah.” He watched as she walked into his room to place her phone to charge. He started his way downstairs after grabbing his suitcase. 

Hannah sat at the table looking at pictures of her son. She felt at a loss. He was here with them, yet her Jonas was off in the future. Annalise seemed to have moved on very quickly to this new Jonas that actually burned inside of her a bit. She placed the picture down when she heard his heavy steps go down the stairs.

Jonas silently placed his suitcase on the table and opened it up for his mother. He took out his time machine to show to her.

“What’s this,” Hannah asked.

Annalise answered from the stairs, “A time machine.” She walked down stairs and kissed Jonas’s cheek. She told him, “I’m going. I will see you later.” She pulled away from him after he gave her a small acknowledgement nod and walked towards the door.

Hannah looked back at Jonas, “Since when? You know what… Please continue.”

“This machine takes you 33 years into the past,” Jonas explained as he finished opening up the box, “and 33 years into the future.”

Hannah stood up and examined the box, “You’re both serious?”

Jonas stared at her then sighed, “I did it all wrong. I tried to keep a secret. The truth is, that is exactly what’s destroying us. The secrets. Mom, I know that sounds insane. That’s why I want you to see it for yourself. With your own eyes.”

“What do you mean,” Hannah asked her son.

Jonas whispered, “Dad’s secret.”

Mikkel walked up to the school. He zoned out for a second only to get shoulder checked by a black eyed Katharina who told him to, “Get out the way dork.”

Hannah stopped to look at him giving him a small smile before getting called back by her friend.

“Hannah, come on!” Katharina commanded. When Hannah hurried up to meet her, she asked, “What are you staring at?”

Mikkel sighed and turned away from the school to walk away.

Claudia power walked her way through the power plant with Gretchen in toe. Her heels clicked against the concrete floors.

Her assistant rushed to her and said, “Thank God you’re here. Someone’s waiting for you in your office. I didn’t know… It was about the dog. She says it’s hers.”

Claudia looked up at the woman in shock. She then walked into her office to see an older lady with long gray hair. The small poodle trotted up to the woman proving that Gretchen did indeed know who she was. 1986 Claudia looked at the woman and asked, “Is that your dog? I’m so sorry. She ran up to me. We called the shelter and no one reported her missing. And she resembles the dog I had as a kid.”

“Gretchen,” the older Claudia told her younger self.

Scared, the younger Claudia asked, “How do you know that?”

The older woman shrugged a bit with a playful look in her eye, “Because it’s my dog. Just like it’s yours.”

The younger Claudia took a step back realizing the full scope of what the older woman had said. Breathing hard, she asked, “Excuse me?”

“And the blood test results,” Egon asked the doctor, “So it’s already spread. To the hospital? This Friday? No. Yes, that should work. Don’t worry. I have someone. Yes.” He hung up the phone and slowly walked himself to his chair to sit and contemplate his life. Seeing Mads face in the newspaper reminded him of his missed appointment with Helge. He looked up knowing what he had to do.

“I know it’s hard to believe,” The older Claudia told her younger self, “But I remember.”

“What,” 1987 Claudia shook her head.

The older Claudia clarified, “this precise moment. Go to the blinds. Trust me.” She watched as her younger self followed her instruction then stated, “two people are sitting at their desks, Hermann and Kowaltschik. Our secretary will approach the desk on the right in a moment. She’ll fan her face on the way. Watch Kowaltschik. He’s about to drop his pen.”

Everything happened just as the older woman described causing Claudia to turn to her and ask, “How did you do that?”

“I experienced it all,” The older Claudia explained while holding the small poodle in her arms, “Everything you’ve ever experienced and everything you ever will. I am you. And I was told by me that you and I are the same person.”

Claudia shook her head, “That’s impossible.”

Her older self sighed and watched as she moved to sit back down again. “This is Gretchen,” The older self explained, “The day she ran into the cave. I was there waiting for her. She recognized me at once as if I hadn’t aged a second. I brought her to the other side so that you would find her. Some things have to happen as they always have.”

Claudia nodded, “The cave. The incident last summer. Something else happened after all!”

In 2053, Jonas walked through the empty foggy streets to grab some more fuel. He then set up a small music player in the school to distract everyone from what he was doing. The ghost form of Annalise danced around him with a smile on her face and an arm around her own waist as she twirled. She beckoned him to join her, Martha, and Bartosz in having fun. Bartosz was there with her dancing with her with one of his arms limp to the side as Martha sat on the desk with a hole in her heart bobbing her head to the music. He walked past their phantoms and grabbed his things to continue his work so that he could actually join them in their time rather than just seeing distant memories of them. Just on time, the patrol truck passed. The group hopped out to prepare their raid on the building. Jonas, then, jumped over the wall so that he could syphon its gas into his canister. He quickly ducked behind the wall scared out of his mind as the person guarding the tank had started to move over towards the side he was previously on. There beside him as he breathed quickly was a hazy form of Annalise. As if a memory of her sitting pressed a wall. Her breathing slow. Her eyes were closed helping him slowly close his eyes and calm his breathing so that he was less likely to be heard.

“Do you believe in ghosts,” The young Regina asked.

Aleksander replied, “What do you mean?”

Regina laughed, “The book we’re reading at school. It’s about ghosts and demons” They sat facing each other tangled up in the other’s legs. She continued, “that we inherit from our parents.” She lifted up their held hands and explained, “And...that you pass them on. Dark stuff. From generation to generation.”

Aleksander shrugged and shook his head, “Maybe.” His thumbs grazed the back of her palms. He chuckled and smirked, “I’m sure you inherited your mother’s best features.” He folded his arms so that her arms were even more intertwined with his.

“I didn’t know if she had any,” sighed Regina. 

“No,” the lovestruck boy teased.

Regina smiled as she shook her head, “You have no idea. She...She’s never around. And when she is, all she does is gripe about me.” Aleksander let out a large breath and started to trace his loved one’s scars on her wrist as she continued, “She has never once said, ‘I love you’ to me.”

Aleksander sighed. His eyes held her hostage as he told her, “I love you.” He held that moment between them before they both leaned forward to press their lips against their partner’s.

Clausen asked the older Regina, “How would you describe your relationship with Ulrich Nielsen?”

“I think it’s known that we have no relationship with the Nielsens,” the woman explained.

Clausen heckled, “Yet he showed up at your hotel the day before he disappeared. What did he want?” 

Charlotte stared at the box on the table as Regina explained, “He wanted to know what really happened in 1986. Because I was the last one… to see his brother alive.”

Clausen looked around the room and commented, “Your husband. How long has he lived in Winden?”

“Since 1986. Why do you ask,” asked Regina right back.

Clausen then asked, “Why did he take your last name?”

“What does one have to do with the other,” she asked while shaking her head.

Charlotte threw up her hands and started to act as if getting up, “If we are done here--”

Clausen shushed her and motioned for the  woman to stop. “There is still something,” He commented to his coworker. He turned towards Regina and asked, “Isn’t there?”

Regina nodded and said, “Last year, a stranger came to the hotel. Those are his things.” Charlotte nodded and opened the box as the other woman continued, “He wanted to rent a room. He looked like a homeless person. He paid cash. He left after a few days, but he wanted to keep the room. He never came back.” She watched as Charlotte started to spread out all of the older Jonas’s things across the table. Regina told Clausen, “These were all over his walls. As he was leaving he asked me to mail a package for him. ”

“To whom,” asked Clausen.

Regina took a baited breath and then told him, “Jonas Kahnwald.”

Annalise stared down at the lake beneath her. The stone ledge was the only thing keeping her from it’s depths. She swallowed down her anxiety and started to strip down. She hung her borrowed clothes on a tree branch. She walked a little away from the ledge, turned, then sprinted right off. As her feet left the hard ground, she performed a dive straight into the lake below her. Her eyes closed. Her heart beat faster than she ever knew it to beat.

Magnus happened to be passing by as he sulked in the forest. He saw Annalise run, then, jump into the water. He started to panic. The boy knew how she was about water and swimming. He threw off his shirt and pants hurrying to get into the water. “Annalise,” yelled the boy as he swam out towards where she had jumped.

Weightlessness was a melancholic memory. Annalise opened her eyes feeling herself submerged in the water. She needed to get deeper. She spread her legs much like a frog and forced them together propelling herself farther into the lake. Her hair flowed behind her as she tried to force her way into the darkness. She kept swimming down until she started to hear thrashing near the service of the water. She turned her head to see a pair of legs there. It wasn’t long until she saw Magnus dive down as well. He looked so scared. Annalise swam over to him and grabbed his shoulders.

Magnus flailed beneath the water looking for the girl. He couldn’t spot her until she grabbed onto his shoulders and turned him towards the surface once more. She pointed upwards indicating that they should go up to talk. He nodded and swam up after her. Once he was out of the water he watched her breathing deeply and screamed, “What the fucking hell?” He pushed his hair out of his face.

Annalise turned toward him, “What are you doing here Magnus?” She had finally caught her breath. Her eyes burned from trying to transition from water to air again causing her to repeatedly blink.

“What am I doing here,” He yelled at her, swimming them towards the rocky edge for them to sit, “What the hell were you thinking? That was so fucking stupid! What if I weren’t here?”

Annalise smiled at him as she pulled herself out the water and wrung out her hair. She giggled for a second and slyly commented, “I’d probably still be trying to see how far I could go.”

He growled at her, “You could have gotten seriously hurt.” He watched as she sprawled on top of the sun-warmed rock. As much as he hated to admit it, he felt a little proud seeing her so nonchalant about the water now. He ended up laying down next to her and asked, “But seriously, what made you do this?”

“Honestly,” Annalise sighed, “Everything is just so...crazy right now, that I might as well have done it, right?”

Magnus nodded, “Yeah. I know what you mean.”

The two lay there in the sun letting its heat dry them from the darkness they were once surrounded by. They were there in silence for several minutes before Annalise spoke up again, “You never told me why you were here.” With her eyes still closed absorbing the warmth of the light, she raised one of her eyebrows.

Magnus nodded with his closed as well, “Franziska and I got into it because of some dumbass thing I did.”

Annalise nodded, “Ah.”

Silence overcame the moment once again as they just tried to process their life. They both enjoyed being with each other not having to say anything at all sometimes. Their friendship allowing them to feel the passage of time and their responsibility to it without words. Magnus didn’t realize how much he was going to treasure this memory with her as his life would continue without having her physically being around him.

After a while, Annalise turned to her friend and asked, “Do you hate me?”

“Sometimes,” Magnus admitted, turning to look at her. He huffed and explained, “I sometimes think that you do actually know more about what happened to my father and brother, yet you are refusing to tell me or anyone. Then, I remember that you would never do that to us.” He lay back onto his back and stated, “You love us far too much to ever do anything like that.”

Annalise lay back down as well, “Yeah.”

The older Jonas led his mother through the Winden caves. He periodically looked back to make sure she was still there with him and not hurt. When they got to a large cavern within the space, he set up his machine.

“What is this,” Hannah asked the older version of her son. She breathed heavily and asked, “What are we doing here?”

“It’s safer to travel from here,” He explained to his mother. He knelt down and started to fiddle with the box to start up the machine. He looked up at his mother and told her, “I told you it would be easier to understand once you’ve seen it.”

Mikkel was walking his way back home on the outskirts of the woods just as the box in 2020 was powering up.

Stranger Jonas turned to his mother and told her, “Don’t be scared.” He held her shaking hand as they prepared to travel.

Mikkel continued his walk through the woods avoiding school. Then he heard it. The noise he recognized. He ran his way to the caves hoping to find his way home. He walked closer towards it only to be stopped by a man’s voice.

“Should you be in school,” asked Noah. He walked towards the boy as he continued to cut and eat his apple.

Mikkel looked at him, “I know you.” The boy said, “You were in the hospital.”

Noah strolled over to the boy and explained, “I like coming here. Special place. So...Why aren’t you in school?” When Mikkel didn’t reply, the man smiled, “I see. Sometimes we don’t really know where we’re supposed to be.” He pointed with his knife towards the caves and said, “But I wouldn’t go in there. It’s like a maze in there. Some have never returned.” Noah put away his knife and started to walk away.

“At the hospital,” Mikkel said to the man, “you said something. The thing about God and that he has a plan for everyone. But what if God has no idea what he’s doing? What if the plan is wrong? If God is mistaken?”

Noah shook his head, “God doesn’t make mistakes. Sometimes we have to have more faith that everything will be okay again.” He turned away and tossed the apple to the side as he walked away.

Egon smiled at Helge, “I’ve been wanting to come by for quite some time. Now that I’m retired, I have time.” Helge looked up at him then started to make his little nature soldiers once more. Egon continued, “I… Mads’ disappearance. I can’t stop thinking about it. On that day… you had a shift at the nuclear power plant. You said you took the country road home, but that’s a detour. Why didn’t you take the forest road?”

Helge slowly spoke, “He… He said… He can change everything. He can change the past, and the future.”

“Who said that,” asked Egon.

Helge replied, “The man with the stone.”

Egon asked, “But that was 33 years ago. What does that have to do with Mads?”

Helge took a deep breath, “But no one can change it. No one. Not even the White Devil.”

“The White Devil,” Egon asked, “You’ve said that before. Back then, as a child.” 

Helge started to work once more. He kept repeating to himself, “Tick-Tock. Tick-tock.”

The older Claudia stood in the cave with her younger self. She explained, “I would like you to trust in an idea that’s bigger than you. Bigger than any of us.” She started to unscrew a canister of the God Particle.

“What’s that,” the younger self asked.

Older Claudia explained, “This is humankind’s greatest discovery. And also its doom. It allows you to travel through time. Thirty three years back. Thirty three years forward. And it will take exactly 33 years for the cycle to be completed again. Until you are standing where I am standing now and accept your role in this never-ending dance, and every sacrifice it requires. In five days, everything will start over. You must stop Adam.”

The younger Claudia shook her head, “Who is Adam?”

“You don’t understand it yet,” She explained then took out some diagrams, “But you soon will.” She let the younger version of her take it then continued once more, “Until then, everything will happen as it always has. As it must.” She started up the machine allowing herself to back way, “In the end, life is just a collection of missed opportunities. You don’t have much more time with Regina. But if everything works out… she will live.” After that, she disappeared in a black sphere leaving Claudia alone in the cave.

Jonas trekked back to his secret place in the nuclear power plant. As soon as he crawled under. Silja and her group were there with guns pointed at him. Elizabeth walked out from the woods and the boy knew he was in trouble.

Charlotte drove and called Peter. She explained what she had learned to him in a panicked tone. She looked over to her grandfather’s book next to her then back onto the road. She started to break down with her husband asking, “Why did he never tell me who my parents really were?”

Jonas stood there with the noose around his neck and his feet and wrists bound. He glared out at Elisabeth as he shed a tear.

Silja translated for her once more, “You know the rules. Do you think they don’t apply to you?”

Elisabeth held her gun up at him then Jonas asked her, “Why are you lying to them? Why don’t you tell them what’s really in the dead zone?” She shot his leg causing the boy to cry out in pain. He yelled, “In five days, in my time, everybody is going to die! I have to stop that. There is no prophecy! The passage will never open. Your paradise does not exist! But behind the wall-”

Elisabeth had enough of his desperate pleas and kicked his stand from under him. Silja couldn’t even watch as she heard him choking. After a short while, Elisabeth shot the rope allowing the boy down from his hanging.

Egon sat at his home and answered his phone, “Hello? Egon here. Yes. Listen, in 1953 we arrested a man. What happened to him after 1953? He killed two kids back then. Then he abducted Helge Doppler. Yeah. I wanted to know what happened to him. Yes, I’ll hold.” He stared at the picture of Ulrich then when he heard a reply, “Yes? Okay, that’s the case. What? He’s still here? Where?” 

He then went to visit the mental hospital where Ulrich was staying. When the nurse led him to the man, he slowly approached. “Excuse me, please. You may not remember me anymore. My name is Egon Tiedemann. I arrested you 34 years ago.”

Ulrich turned towards him and said, “Egon Tiedemann.” He stood up and asked, “How could I ever forget you?”

“I…” Egon stumbled over his words, “I wanted… I have a few questions.”

Ulrich leaned over and sniffed the man. He then quoted in English, “‘My only aim is to take many lives. The more the better I feel.’”

Egon moved back, “I know that. You’ve said that before. What does it mean?”

Ulrich shook his head, “It means that you, you moron, still haven’t understood a thing.” He sat back down at his table, “But now you have to hurry. You don’t have much time left. I know when you die. It was in the paper.”

Egon moved closer to him, “I don’t understand.”

“No,” Ulrich told the man, “Of course you don’t. But maybe that is also your fate. To die as clueless as you were when you were born.” Ulrich laughed, “Everyone gets what they deserve.”

A storm brewed in Winden causing Mikkel to walk back home to an awaiting Ines. She sat at the table smoking. She ran to her son and asked, “Where have you been?” She held him and told the boy, “I was so worried.” She sniffled, “I called the school. They said you never showed up there. Did something happen?” When Mikkel didn’t reply, she looked down, “You know what? There are days it’s best to just forget. But… There’s no better comfort food than ‘Toast Hawaii.’ We always had it at home when I was little, with two maraschino cherries. And my dad used to dance like Elvis.” She put down the can of pineapples.

“Do you believe in God,” asked Mikkel.

Ines made a face. She remembered back to the handsome boy who made her interested in the church. His strong sense of will, right and wrong, and how his smile reminded her of a sunset. He always knew exactly what to say and could make her laugh even on her worst days. He would clown around and end up just hurting himself trying to make her smile, but he would always pop back up with a large goofy smile. He was like that with nearly everyone though. He was constantly making Helge feel better about himself. She remembered one time he really made her heart race though. They were helping the community kids learn how to dance. David was sitting out initially and was there to help demonstrate with the Pastor, but no one wanted to partner with her, so he walked over to her. He smiled oh so gently at her and held her close as they danced. He leaned down and in a low voice sang the song just for her, into her ear. After he pulled away, he, in a husky voice just loud enough for prying ears to hear and with a devious smirk, said, “Here’s looking at you, Kid.” He made her feel like the most desirable person in the room. It worked on everyone else too because boys stopped bullying her and girls started to be a bit nicer to her in school. In fact, the group of girls pulled her and Jana to cluck with the rest of them about the boys and question her about David. She started to go to church a lot more after that just to see the older boy. He would walk her and Jana home. After dropping Jana home first, he’d always leave her just like how he pulled away from her after dancing and adding a sweet chaste kiss where her forehead met her hair line. She could remember how lonely he looked walking away. As if, his happiness was simply a mask to make everyone else happy and there was some darkness lurking beneath the surface.

Ines looked at her son and nodded.

“Do you believe he has a plan for us,” Mikkel asked. 

Ines sighed. She thought back to David and her own life after trying to chase the feeling of what he left her...then the feeling of losing her birth son… She nodded once again, “I believe… he does. I believe, for example, that God saw to it that you came to me. And that his plan for me is to be there for you.” She smiled at the boy and rubbed his shoulders, “Right, let’s make ‘Toast Hawaii,’ okay?” She sniffled back tears, “Will you help me?”

Mikkel followed the woman and gave her a much needed hug to comfort the both of them.

In 2053, Jonas sat in his cage. He struggled with his leg and breathing. When he heard Silja, he backed himself more into the corner. His breath hitched as she pointed the gun at him. 

“Why didn’t she kill you,” She asked. She stared at him and asked, “Who are you really?” When he didn’t reply, she yelled, “Who are you?” Jonas stared at her debating for a second before she knocked off the lock and opened his cage. She told him, “I want you to show me. What’s really in the dead zone.”

Jonas agreed and they snuck into the dead zone as Charlotte in 2020 looked for answers of her parents. The older Hannah walked towards the 1987 version of her house. There in the window was Ines and Mikkel laughing. Ulrich looked out of his window as Egon looked over his files. The older Jonas held his mother as she realized her husband was Mikkel. Peter rushed to his wife’s side holding her knowing that she needed it. Annalise walked Magnus home and held him close as tears fell from her eyes. Jonas showed Silja the mass. Claudia trekked back to her house and dug up the time machine her older self left for her 33 years prior. 

Jonas put the gasoline into the generator and cranked the machine to life.

“What is that,” Silja asked.

Jonas said, “She said it’s a portal.”

“Who,” asked the girl.

Jonas explained, “I have tapes with a woman speaking on them. Her name is Claudia Tiedermann. I know none of this makes sense, but that may be the only way back home.” He pointed to it, “No clue if it works.” He turned the electrical on to see the blob turn into a sphere.

“You want to go in,” Silja tried to reason with the boy.

He turned to her and explained, “It doesn’t matter if I die inside of it or out here.” He walked his way to the sphere and slowly let his hand be consumed for a second. He took it out to see if it was okay. With that, he stepped in with the girl calling for him back in 2053.