#at least it pays much more than my current one! like probably double!

[roaringroa]

they should make a life where you don't have appointments, work, school and scheduled events every single day for months on end

[mrsbarnesblog]

just a friend

masterlist

requests are open

summary: your best friend gets jealous when he sees you talking to some random guy at his party

words count: 3k

warnings: +18❗️smut, swearing, p in v sex, protected sex, friends to lovers, possessive but softie Rafe, dirty talk, pet names

You were standing near the kitchen island, far away from everybody else, sipping on your drink and observing Rafe. The loud music busted through the speakers, there were too many unknown faces and for the hundredth time wished you had stayed at home. 

Rafe was sitting on the couch in the middle of the room with Kelse, Topper, a few other guys, and, most importantly, some random girl. She was way too touchy for your liking and it honestly seemed like she was ready to get into his pants in front of everyone. 

Rafe didn't pay much attention, though, even while she was rubbing his pants-covered thigh and saying something in his ear. No, Rafe was too interested in the conversation with his friend, but it didn't stop that nasty and overwhelming feeling of jealousy bubbling in your stomach.

You and Rafe have been friends for almost three years, but it didn't seem like it. While you had neved crossed the invisible line, unknowningly for each other you both admitted to yourself that whatever was going on in between you two was not a regular friendship. Friends shouldn't sleep in each other's beds. Friends shouldn’t spend that much time together alone. Friends shouldn't be jealous every single time someone talks to their friend. And friends shouldn't be in love. 

Yet, here you were. 

You were staring at this scene for at least fifteen minutes and it drove you fucking insane. Especially the fact that Rafe had never let any man even talk to you, not to mention be all up in your face. It was so unfair that he had double standards for you and that he probably didn't even realize your feelings for him. 

Rafe was just too overprotective and possessive and you had to admit the ugly truth to yourself that it wasn't because he was in love with you. 

You finished your drink, wincing at the taste of alcohol, and straightened, looking across the room full of people. There were too many guys; you spotted the one that looked kind of attractive and moved in his direction. You were done with Rafe’s bullshit. If he could have girls all over himself, so could you. 

“Hey.” You tapped on the guy’s shoulder to grab his attention. He became flirty way too quickly, stepping closer to you and giving his best smirk, yet your eyes were still drifting back to Rafe. 

You saw the exact moment when your best friend noticed your current company. You and Ed were chatting for no more than five minutes, and while he was talking about it being his plans for the night, you saw Rafe getting up from the couch with a frown on his face. He quickly crossed the room, not bothering to check on the girl who was trying to get his attention over the loud music, or say even say something to his friends. 

“What are you doing here?” His brows furrowed even more, his eyes going up and down the guy near you. 

“I’m talking, Rafe. Go back to your company.” You rolled your eyes, looking back at Ed. “So what were you saying? Your frie—” 

“You’re coming with me, Y/N.” Before you could even say anything, you were dragged away to the second floor, where no one could bother you. “What the fuck was that, huh? I told you like a million fucking times to not talk to the guys at these damn parties; they're goin’ to hurt you.” Rafe freed your hand, pacing in front of you and running his own hand through his hair. He was visibly annoyed and pissed, and with the way he was acting, you wanted to push his buttons even more.

"You are my friend, Rafe, and you have no fucking right to tell me who I can and cannot speak to or go out with!" You shouted back, not even in the slightest fear of the flames in his eyes, when his head snapped back towards you. 

"Whether you like it or not, Y/N, I am not going to let any fuckers with bad intentions get near you."  

"Apparently, they are the only ones who are interested in me. You seem to be always busy with all the girls who are ready to climb you.” You laughed even though it hurt you to say it out loud. “I'm sick of your double standards, Rafe. You think I want to look at you with some random girls? You think it’s okay to scare guys away from me and then casually let everyone be all over you?” 

“What the fuck does that mean? You know I am not dating anyone. They can do whatever they want because I have no plans with any of them." He rolled his eyes, already irritated that he was actually fighting with you for the first time. But there was no going back and you both felt it. The constant tension and secret feelings were overflowing and they had to find a way out. “You’re acting like a child, swear to god, babe.”

“Because you're giving me mixed signals and confusing me!” You stepped closer, pointing a finger at his chest. 

“You know the reason why I do this.” Rafe grabbed your wrist, slightly pulling you closer. Your eyes locked on each other, and your faces were so close that you could smell liquor his his breath. You felt the way your stomach dropped when Rafe’s eyes quickly felt to your lips, yet you were still filled with anger. 

"No, I don't! You’re giving me hope on something, you’re being affectionate with me, we’re spending all our time together, but then you just step back as if it was nothing! Just stop playing with my feelings and tell the fucking tr—-“ Before you could even finish your sentence, your body got pushed back and pressed in between the wall and Rafe’s body. His grip on your face was firm yet gentle enough to not hurt you when he brought you closer to him and finally kissed you.

You both moaned into the kiss as if you were surprised and content that it had finally happened. Rafe’s lips moved quickly, easily dominating over you, as he swiped his tongue over your bottom lip, asking for permission to slip in. 

“I’m just a friend, huh? You’re driving me fucking insane. You’re mine, don’t you understand it?” He mumbled against your mouth, sliding one hand down your body and at the same time pushing his legs in between your thighs. He just simply wanted to pin you against the wall, but the way his thigh pressed into your pulsing core made you both hiss. “Do you really think I would let anyone kiss you? Touch you? I’m selfish, Y/N, and I don’t like to share anything or anyone.” You felt as if you were high or drunk with the way your body reacted to Rafe’s touches, trying to concentrate on his words but actually only wishing his lips to get back on yours. 

“You let them touch you. That girl was all over you today, and you did nothing to prevent it.” You breathed into his lips, feeling a lazy smirk stretching across his own. Rafe leaned in again, pressing a few quick, wet kisses to your mouth and wrapping one hand harder around your body.

“She was fucking annoying and I tried to get her off of me. I don’t need any of them. My eyes have always been on you. I swear.” Rafe’s hands tugged on your dress, sliding it higher to have more access to your body. “Holy shit, Y/N. I don't know how I was able to be friends with you for so long. I want you so bad.” 

You moaned, your head falling back against the wall, when Rafe’s lips slid down the side of your neck, leaving soft bites and reddish marks. Your own hands reached under his t-shirt, touching his firm abs and scratching his tanned skin until he moaned into your mouth. 

“I was scared to make a move. To scare you away. But you are the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I cannot pretend to be only your friend." His hands were sliding up and down your thighs, bringing you closer and not pulling his face away from your neck. Your scent has always driven him insane and he couldn’t have enough of you. “Do you feel it? Do you feel how hard you make me, Y/N?” His hands tugged your hips closer, until his bulge was firmly pressing into your leg.  

“Rafe…” You whined, your hips moving on his thigh, which was still pressed in between your legs. The feeling of your underwear getting wetter by the second made you wonder if Rafe could feel it through his pants. “Y-you know that everyone thinks that we’re sleeping together, right?”

“I think we shouldn’t disappoint them, hm?” You felt a smile spreading across his lips and you giggled back at him. Your hands are now tagging the annoying piece of fabric that hid his body from you, not even caring about people that might go to the second floor of Cameron’s house and catch you.

You managed to drag the t-shirt off of Rafe, your mouth instantly getting watery with the image in front of you. Sure, you saw Rafe shirtless countless times at the beach, but knowing that you could shamelessly do whatever you wanted made your whole body tingle. 

“Fuck that.” Before you even knew it, Rafe’s hands easily lifted you up, making your legs automatically wrap around his body. His lips met yours again, and he started blindly moving towards his bedroom. 

Your body bounced on the way-too-soft and way-too-expensive mattress of his king-size bed as he threw you there and went to lock the door. Rafe followed you shortly after, too desperate to keep touching you. His hands slid up your bare thighs, going past the strings of your panties, pushing your dress until it was gathered around your waist. 

“Can I take it off?” He looked at you, his eyes surprisingly soft and completely different from what you'd expected. You just simply nodded, lifting your hands in the air, until the only real item of clothing was taken off you and thrown somewhere in the room. 

Rafe’s eyes took every inch of your exposed skin, his hands gently sliding down your sides. You were only dressed in a simple black set, but for Rafe, it was the sexiest thing in the world. 

He wanted you for so long. Just looking from afar, he was trying to restrict himself from getting closer to you because he had always thought that you deserved someone better. But at the same time, who could treat you better than him? Only Rafe knew everything that you liked and needed, and he was willing to give it to you. 

“You’re so pretty, for fuck’s sake. I’ll be careful with you.” Rafe's body covered yours, his soft lips kissing your neck and going all the way down to your belly, making you gasp. You buried your hands in his hair, moving it away from his face. “I’ll take care of you. I promise I won’t fuck this up.” He looked up at you with his baby blues, and your whole body got covered in goosebumps from the look in his eyes. 

“Please, Rafe.” You whispered, taking his face into your hands and dragging him back on top of you. You two could not stop moaning as your hands began to explore each other's bodies and your lips met once more in a passionate kiss. “I want you.”

“Baby… Can’t even imagine what you’re doing to me.” He groaned against your mouth. The position that you were currently in, with Rafe comfortably in between your slightly spread legs, made his pants-covered erection perfectly press into your dump panties. “Need to be inside of you or else you’ll make me cum in my pants.” 

It became a mess of tugging on each other's clothes while trying to have as much skin-to-skin contact as possible. When you were both naked, Rafe slowed down, holding your face with one firm hand. “Is it really what you want to do? ‘Cause I won’t go back to pretending to be friends anymore.”  

“Just fuck me already, Cameron.” You whispered, not breaking intense eye contact. 

“As you wish, sweetheart.” With these words, Rafe pulled back to reach the nightstand and take a condon. He carelessly threw it near your exposed body and took a few seconds to finally admire your naked form. 

You were basically inviting him to do whatever he wanted with your slightly spread legs, which let him see how wet you already were. That pleading look on your face didn’t help the situation either, making Rafe want to fuck you dumb until his name was the only thing on your mind. 

He looked you up and down a few times before leaning forward, pressing your legs closer to your chest. Rafe’s calloused hands reached to your sensitive breasts, touching nipples with his thumbs, until your eyes rolled back into your head. 

“Are you ready for me, or do you want me to eat you out first, hm?” His soft breath on the side of your neck sent shievers down your body. As much as you wanted to feel his lips on you, it felt like you could not think straight without his dick stretching you out, so you helplessly shook your head. 

“Next time, please. I need you now.” 

He gave you a sly smile and, in a single motion, ripped off the foil, rolled a condom over his throbbing cock, and placed himself at your entrance. You squirmed at the feeling of his tip going up and down your wet slit, gathering your juices and stimulating your sensitive clit. 

“Fuck, so you’re soakin’ my sheets, baby.” He smirked, looking down at your pussy and teasing you more, until a moan of his name escaped from your mouth. “Keep your legs here, okay? ‘N I’ll take care of you.” 

When you felt Rafe's cock slide into you, your eyes flattered before closing completely. It was big. It was bigger than you had ever had before, but it seemed like your body quickly adjusted to him as soon as he bottomed out. With one hand near your head to hold himself up and the other one on your leg, he slowly started moving in and out. 

“Rafe!” You squeaked, digging your nails into your thighs and trying to control yourself.

“Sh-h, ‘s okay. Knew this pussy was made for me, babe.” He moaned through gritted teeth, gradually increasing the speed of his thrusts. Soon, the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, along with muffled moans and Rafe’s praises. His bed was making a noise with every movement, and if you hadn't been too lost in the pleasure, you would’ve thought about other people hearing you. Rafe could not take his gaze away from your face—the way you tried to control yourself but soon lost it when his cock touched that sensitive spot inside of you. Your glossy eyes, hot skin and puffy lips made him go feral, fucking you harder into the matress of his bed.

“That’s right, scream my name. Made ya go dumb for my cock, huh?” He watched in awe at the way you were going insane under him; your release was visibly getting closer with every thrust. You moan even louder, feeling a tight knot form in your lower stomach, and the feeling gradually increased when the base of his cock brushed over your clit. “Squeezin’ me so tight. My good girl... fuck, baby. That’s right, cum for me. I’ve got you.” 

Rafe grabbed both of your hands, showing you to put them around his neck. It made your legs fall from the previous position and you weakly put them around his waist. Rafe finally lowered his face closer to you, catching your lips in a wet and sloppy kiss, still pounding into you roughly and steadily. 

“I-I can’t, Rafe, please!”

You particularly breathe the same air, moan into each other’s mouths, hooded eyes locked on when the orgasm washes over you almost simultaneously. Without even realizing it, you dragged your nails down Rafe’s sweaty back, leaving red marks that he will proudly show off tomorrow. His hips slowly pushed into you while you were still pulsating around his cock, enjoying your own release. Just the feeling of your pussy milking him could’ve made him cum again. 

“Rafe…” You whisper, your eyes now closed and your head feeling all fuzzy and warm. Rafe slowly slipped out of you, walking away to throw out a condom. You whined at the empty feeling and the coldness that the lack of his touch had brought. 

“‘M right here, baby. You did amazing.” As he came back on top of you, now wearing boxers, he placed kisses on the heated skin of your neck, his hand sliding down your side to soothe the aching muscles of your legs. “My pretty girl... Gosh, now I’m not letting you go. Like ever.” 

You giggle, draping your arms over his shoulders and playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “So all I had to do was talk to some random guy for you to get all angry and kiss me?” 

“Don’t remind me of that. I just realised that I might actually lose you.” Rafe whispered the last part, nuzzling into your neck and wrapping his arms around your waist until there was no space left between your naked bodies. 

“You won’t lose me, I promise.” You hugged him back, enjoying the comfortable silence that fell into the room, until you both fell asleep in each other's arms. 

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

A Guide for Writing Ed's Top Surgery!

I'm getting my top surgery on July 3 (whoo!!!) and I'm using this as an opportunity to gather info for fic purposes. I love writing Ed as a trans man, and I love everyone else who writes and draws him as trans, so I wanted to share the notes I'm taking to help others who want to draw or write Ed's top surgery experiences! I'll update this as we go in sections (pre-op, the surgery itself, and initial recovery).

This is all just my experience with getting a double-incision with free nipple grafts surgery, and it's from a US perspective. Your mileage may vary and this definitely isn't meant as a medical guide. If you're having your own top surgery listen to your surgeon, not me.

Pre-op guide below the cut!

In the months before his surgery:

Getting insurance approval for top surgery in the US, depending on where you live, can be incredibly frustrating, dehumanizing, and painful. Ed will need at least one letter from a therapist or other mental health provider, and he'll probably feel very frustrated about being treated like a child who is unable to make his own medical decisions. I had several insurance denials, needed to switch insurance companies (currently having to settle for one that's more expensive in every other way but will at least approve this surgery), and needed three (fucking 3!!) letters from mental health professionals to get my approval. Hard to overstate how much it sucked and how much it makes you feel like the people writing state and insurance laws see you as a stupid child. Ed will very likely have Lingering Issues about this experience.

Ed will need an initial consultation to confirm he's a good candidate for surgery. Mine was quick and easy!

Once he gets his approval, or once he decides to pay out-of-pocket, he'll get his surgery date! Depending on his clinic, this could be years away or it could be as soon as a couple months out, so anything is realistic for your story. You could lean into the joy of a date that's sooner than he'd expected or he could be frustrated by the whole process grinding to a halt.

His pre-op appointment:

The pre-op appointment is when Ed will meet his surgeon and get the details for his surgery date. Mine was almost two weeks before my surgery. He'll also receive packets of information and his post-op check-up dates. If he smokes, he should be tobacco-free by this date.

This is when Ed and Stede will be able to ask any last-minute questions. Ed can ask here if the surgeon will be willing to give him heart-shaped nipples, but they'll probably say no

This appointment is also when Ed will be struck by the reality of having post-operative drains and not being able to shower for a week. This will be deeply upsetting for him

Ed will probably be very nervous for this appointment (what if something goes wrong and he can't get his surgery?) but he'll be relieved and comforted by the whole experience. The mood in the whole plastic surgery center, for me, was downright fucking jubilant, all the nurses who saw my name on the chart were congratulating me and telling me how happy they were for me! This WILL make Ed cry

The week before his surgery:

It begins to sink in that Ed is about to have major surgery. He's excited, of course, but he'll be a little nervous too! Stede will need to give him lots of cuddles and promise to take good care of him

They'll need to make lots of Ed's favorite comfort foods to freeze so he has something to eat when he can't raise his arms well enough to cook

Ed should practice doing things without lifting his arms above his shoulders. He'll have a great time stomping around and pretending to be a dinosaur

He'll want to prepare a selection of comfy clothes he can wear without raising his arms. Stede's robes will be perfect

The biggest struggle for Ed during his recovery will be the boredom. Stede should help him build up a stock of video games, books, Lego sets, sketchbooks, and model building kits to keep his hands and brain busy!

They should prepare Ed's sickbed. He might be more comfortable sleeping upright on the couch or in an armchair propped up by pillows. He'll have to see how he feels after surgery and what positions are most comfortable, so getting both the couch and their bed ready is a good idea!

At some hospitals, including mine, you won't know what time to arrive at the hospital for your surgery until the day before, when they'll call you to let you know (they do this based on surgery room flow to ensure you arrive at the right time). Ed will find this stressful; Stede will HATE it.

Ed may need to shower with a special antiseptic skin wash the night before and the morning of his surgery. He will not enjoy having to get up at the asscrack of dawn to shower

The night before Ed's surgery, he and Stede should pack bags, just in case. Top surgery is an outpatient procedure, but just in case anything goes wrong and Ed has to stay overnight, it's good to be prepared. A change of comfy clothes, a book, and Ed's Nintendo Switch are good things to pack. Ed will also love taking a stuffed animal to keep him company after Stede can't go any further with him (and he can use the plushie to cushion the seatbelt on the car ride home).

Ed's super excited and everything's set for him! Good luck, Ed! 🥳

[velvethopewrites]

The sob story with this is that I wrote this yesterday and it got deleted before I could save it. I wanted to die cry, basically. Somehow I managed to re-create most of it, after working on it all damn day. (I basically ended up writing over 6,000+ words in one day. Yowza) I still feel as though the first version was better, but…no one knows that but me, I suppose. (And my partner, who got to read it right before the horrors happened). Regardless, I am proud of this and proud of myself for not giving up when it really would have been easy to. So huzzah to the fickle hand of fate and all that stuff.

For Suptober 2023 prompt “starlight”

I tag @fellshish and @canonblastedships and @clarkenting for being super cool reblog buddies, lol (which is just a thing I made up) This is the longest destiel fic I’ve written yet and it will be my first official AO3 destiel! (As soon as I remember how to do that, oy)

Edited: Now with Spiffy AO3 Link! Here!

The Starlight

There were three types of people that visited the Starlight Lounge — drunks, people desperate to score, and the employees that made their bread and butter trying to tame the other two.

Dean Winchester, unfortunately, was a member of that third group. Oh, sure, Dean had been known to put away a fair bunch of liquor in his day, and sure, Dean had definitely been known to do the Bedroom Rodeo whenever the opportunity presented itself. Hell, back when he’d first started at the Starlight he’d often been three types at once. Work, drink, get laid. Sometimes, not even in that order.

But that was past Dean. Current and newly mature Dean (hah) just wanted to work, go home, eat and fall into his bed. Working at the Starlight wasn’t that bad – it had fairly decent pay and it was often interesting. And like everyone else, Dean had bills to pay and he gave more than his fair share to Sammy. Not that Sam really needed it anymore; he was busy working as a law clerk downtown, putting himself through school. But still, Dean wanted to help as much as he could and besides it was his brotherly duty. Heh. Duty.

Tonight, due to the cold and rainy weather, the bar was fairly empty and business had been slow. There was only one of his regulars, a writer by the name of Chuck crying into his notebooks at the back of the bar. To be honest, Dean had never seen Chuck write a damn thing but the man sure could put scotch away like a pro.  There was also a young couple making out in one of the booths near the restrooms. He’d been keeping an eye on them most of the night, actually, making sure no one lost any clothing. The Starlight didn’t need a public indecency charge on the books. At least, not so soon since the last one, at any rate. 

Dean yawned and finished cleaning up the bar, hoping Chuck and the couple on their way to Soft-Porn Town would soon be leaving. Maybe Dean could even push them on their way a bit early, so he could get home at a decent time, for once.  As he walked over towards Chuck to perhaps lightly suggest the writer hit the road, the double doors of the bar blew open – bringing in the rain, the cold rush of the wind and a new customer in a beige trench coat with seriously fucked up hair. Great.

Dean sighed and turned back around as the new guy slumped onto the first stool at the bar. His dark brown, messed up hair looked even worse up close, and he had a scowl on his face as he glared down at the bar in front of him.

“Whiskey. Neat,” Messy-Hair said, voice low and very rumbly.

Dean pulled down a clean glass and poured some of their nicer whiskey into it. Dude looks like he could afford it, at any rate. He had a nice suit on under the coat, now that Dean could properly see it and his watch was one of those big clunky things that could probably tell the time on Jupiter or some shit like that. The man’s hand reaches for the glass before Dean has barely pushed it forward. He throws back the drink in record time and hits the bar with it so that it makes a loud thunk.

“Another one.”

Dean shrugged as the man kept glaring down at the bar as though it contained all the answers to life and everything else; Dean knew for a fact that it didn’t. It didn’t even have a ‘42’ scratched into it or anything. (RIP Douglas Adams)

This time the man just wraps his hand around the glass, his fingers clutching at it and woah, Dean thinks, dude’s got some huge fucking hands. They’re big and they’re strong looking. The fingers are nice and long and graceful and oh, oh, oh. Maybe it’s a kink, or maybe it’s a preference, but Dean loves hands. Manly looking mitts like Messy-Hair here and even smaller, more delicate hands like on most women, with pretty nail colors. But Dean’s not choosy.

He sees motion out of the corner of his eye and notices Chuck signaling that he’d like to pay up. Glancing at Messy-Hair he figures he has a few minutes before having to pour him another so he sets the bottle down and heads over to the other side.

“All right there, Chuck?”

“Yeah, yeah, thank you, Dean.”

The older man is flipping through his wallet and counting out his cash slowly. Dean wipes the bar and puts Chuck’s last glass into the bucket for later cleaning.

“Write anything tonight?” Dean always asks this question. It’s like a little game he and Chuck play because it always has the same answer.

“No,” Chuck says looking up at him. He places his finger to his temple solemnly, almost like he’s holding a gun. “But I did a lot of work up here.”

He always gives Dean this look as though Dean should know exactly what he’s talking about. But, of course, Dean never does. He likes to read but he sure as hell would never attempt to write. Personally, he thinks Chuck is sort of crazy, but hey, to each their own, right?

Chuck pushes his notebooks into his old canvas bag on the bar. It’s bulging with everything he carries with him and looks fit to burst. Dean supposes that writer’s block is heavy business.

Chucks nods goodnight as he slips his bag over his shoulders, buckling a bit under the weight. Dean watches as he wobbles away and he’s not sure if it’s from the alcohol or the bag. He’d normally be worried (hey, no bar can stay in business if all its clientele got themselves killed), but he knows Chuck lives nearby. He’ll be all right and probably in his same spot tomorrow evening. He puts Chuck’s money into the till and realizes he tipped Dean more than usual. He really did have had a good night, then.

He notices the couple trying to break the world record for smooches in a single night are getting up and putting on their jackets. Maybe Dean can get out early; he’s got the DVR set for Dr Sexy already, but he wouldn’t say no to catching it live for once.

Glancing over he sees Messy-Hair is now resting his head on the bar, but he lifts it as the doors bang shut behind Chuck, the cold burst of wind making his hair looking even more disheveled. Dean heads back over to see if he needs a refill and is suddenly struck dumb by the other man finally looking at him. Holy Mother of Blue, those are some eyes. The dude is handsome. Like old-time movie handsome. Strong jaw, with a smattering of scruff, pink soft lips and eyes that look like they can see into your soul, no, scratch that, not see, but pierce. Dean swallows roughly and picks up the whiskey bottle. 

“Hey, uh, it’s getting late. One more for the road?” Dean assumes the dude doesn’t know the Starlight is technically open until midnight. Assumes, hah. More like prays.

Blue-Eyes stares at him and frowns. “I thought this establishment closed at midnight.”

“Er, yeah. I suppose it does.”

“Then I’ll take another,” Blue-Eyes pauses and holds out his glass. “And keep them coming for the next forty-five minutes, barkeep.”

Dean blinks at the old-fashioned word and pours another round. They stare at each other until he hears a giggle and a clearing of a throat. He looks over to see the couple and wonders how long they’ve been waiting. Judging from the churlish look on the guy’s face and the barely contained laughter emanating from the girl, it’s been awhile. He settles their tab and takes their money (lousy tip, of course) as the two saunter past Blue-Eyes and escape out into the night. Well, at least Dean can see it’s stopped raining.

Making up his mind, he follows them from behind the bar and locks the door after them. He flips off the sign, too. He may be stuck here with Blue-Eyes, but he’ll be damned if he’ll let someone else come meandering in to make him get home even later.

He comes back to stand in front of his customer and makes a decision. Pulling down another glass, he pours some of the whiskey into it and sighs as the warmth of it hits his system. What do they always say about good whiskey? It should warm the cockles of the heart, or something like that. Not that Dean actually knows what a cockle is, but hey, it went down smooth.

He realizes Blue-Eyes is watching him and Dean decides to bite the bullet. He’s tired, bored and probably on his way to cranky town if Blue-Eyes keeps his word about the next forty-five minutes.

“So, what brings you out on a cold and rainy night like tonight, Mr, uh…what’s your name? I can’t keep calling you what I’ve been calling you in my head.”

The other man squints and tilts his head at Dean like a tiny, confused bird. And no, Dean doesn’t find that adorable at all. Nope.

“What have you been calling me in your head?”

Dean purses his lips. Sometimes he’s really an idiot. He gives Blue-Eyes a shaky laugh.

“I said I wasn’t gonna keeping doing that.”

They stare at each other again, neither one budging until Blue-Eyes releases a breath and blinks, shoulders slumping a bit more. By the end of the night Dean expects this guy to be melted into the floor.

“Cas.”

Dean frowns. “Your name is Mr Cas?”

“No, just Cas.” Blue-Eyes, no, scratch that, Cas then holds out his hand so Dean can shake it like they’re fellow professionals meeting at a party or something. As he grips the other man’s hand in his own he realizes Cas’s hand is warm, dry, and, yep, strong. The dude is seriously ticking all of Dean’s boxes without even trying. It’s a bit unnerving, really.

“Is that short for something?” Dean asks, wondering what type of name that is.

Cas just looks at him over the rim of his glass. “Perhaps.”

Neither of them say anything else for a long moment and Dean shakes his head. “People ever tell you you talk too much?”

“Yes. All the time,” Cas says with a smirk.

Dean laughs. “Well, whatever. It’s officially nice to meet you, Cas. I’m Dean. Humble and professional barkeep at your service.”

“Hello, Dean.”

Cas’s voice is deep but there’s a warmth to it that makes Dean happy.  They chit-chat for a bit, just like Dean would do with any newbie to the bar. He pours them both another round and then tries his question again.

“So, you seemed a bit upset earlier. What brought you through my doors, Cas?”

Cas sighs and glances away. He taps his fingers lightly on the polished wood of the bar. He stares at Dean as though assessing him and then looks as though he’s made up his mind.

“My…er, the person I’ve been dating, dumped me tonight. We went to an expensive restaurant and ordered far too pricey food for the serving size and drank outrageously fancy wine. Then they ordered an expensive bottle of cognac, drank it all and then told me I wasn’t worth it.”

Dean winces. “Ouch. How long were you together?”

“Six months.”

“Well, it’s not too long for a relationship, but it’s long enough to hurt.”

Cas nods, looking sullen again.

“What special occasion was it?”

Cas stares at him. “How could you possibly know that?”

“Fancy restaurant, the way you’re dressed, the cognac. Nobody orders that unless there’s been a birth or an anniversary or both.”

“It was my birthday,” Cas says, looking down again.

“Fuck,” Dean blurts out without thinking. “And they dumped you? Seriously bad juju, man.”

Cas nods and takes another drink of his whiskey, looking miserable. Dean tops off both of their glasses and hums.

“What was his name?”

Cas whips his head up, suddenly looking confused and more than a little worried. “I never said it was a he.”

“It was your distinct lack of pronouns, dude. Always the dead giveaway. Trust me, as a guy who plays for both sides, I know. Pronouns are key. Hey, relax, Cas, this is a safe space.” Dean points to the small pride flag he keeps above the bar and watches as Cas visibly relaxes.

The silence that falls between them is comfortable now. Welcoming, even. Cas clears his throat and rests his hand on his chin, peering at Dean.

“So…you’re bi, I assume or, pan, perhaps?”

“Got it in one. Just another bisexual loser ruining the world one lay at a time.”

Dean winks to show he’s only kidding. He’s proud to be bi, but it doesn’t mean he can’t make a joke at his own expense. Of course, if Sam or his friend Charlie were here they’d both tell him what they thought of that.

“His name was Bartholomew.”

Dean snorts. “It fits him. Douche-y name for a douche-canoe.”

Cas barks out a laugh and it completely changes his face into something truly beautiful. Dean suddenly feels the need to always make Cas laugh like that. He can’t imagine anyone not wanting to – his laugh is infectious. And the light it puts in his eyes is irresistible.

Cas looks serious again as he swirls the rest of the whiskey in his glass. “To be honest, Bart was just the last in a long line of failed…connections. I’m doubting my own self-worth at this point. Everyone ends up leaving or they get fed up with me. I’m too introverted…too socially awkward to deal with, I suppose.”

“I don’t know, you seem to be doing okay right now.”

“I’ve been drinking,” Cas says, deadpan. “And also I’m paying you.”

Dean chuckles. “Not really, I decided to stop charging you as soon as I poured my first one.”

“Your hospitality know no bounds. Truly.”

Dean laughs. Cas’s dry delivery and poker-faced expressions really are the limit. He feels that familiar warmth he always gets when he meets someone new. A someone new that excites him. But he pushes the feeling aside because he knows on some level that trying to get into Cas’s pants is so not what the other man needs right now. Dean shivers as he realizes how damn mature that sounds. Next he’ll be looking into 401ks and cemetery plots.

“Well, consider them birthday drinks. Of course, this stuff doesn’t cost a small fortune or anything, but I figured you’d already paid out enough tonight.”

Cas smirks and shakes his head at Dean. “Thank you, Dean. It’s actually very kind of you to…take pity on me.”

He says it jokingly but Dean gets the sense that he means it. He reaches forward and touches Cas’s hand.

“Hey, no pity here. You are ridiculously attractive and if I didn’t have a conscience, I’d definitely be throwing out my best lines here to help you relieve some tension, if you know what I mean. And you are not awkward to me, but even if you were, it wouldn’t be enough to stop me from asking for your number or seeing if you wanted to meet up sometime. I barely know you but you seem like a decent guy, Cas. And I think all of those people that don’t get you can just fuck right off. You need to keep trying, man. Don’t give up just because a few losers couldn’t see what they had.”

Cas blinks at Dean, blue eyes getting huge. “You think I’m ridiculously attractive?”

Dean thinks back. Did he say that? Yeah, he said that. Figures that would be the only thing to register with the dude.

“What sort of line would you use on me? I mean, if you were going to, that is.” Cas shyly glances away and then back, a curious look on his face.

“Oh, uh, probably something like, well you know what they say — the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.” Dean waggles his eyebrows and smirks, faking a leer.

“I’m not sure that would work with me,” Cas says, mirth clear in his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. You’d make me work for it, I know. But seriously, you need to regroup, clear out the douche-canoes from your life and find a new guy, man.”

Cas smiles at him in fondness, and nope, Dean is not going to do it. He will not break his rule about dating people just out of relationships. Not even for big huge blue eyes that make him feel sappy like a love song. Cas, however, clearly has other plans.

“This may be forward but, um, Dean would you allow me take you out for dinner? As a date, in case you were wondering how I meant it.”

“Oh, wow, Cas, um, I mean…”

Cas’s face takes an interesting journey in two seconds – from hopeful joy to miserable and wretched. Dean feels his heart break a little bit for him in that moment and mentally kicks his own ass for being a tool.

“Oh, I see. I…I’m sorry, Dean. Thank you for hospitality.” Cas fumbles with his wallet and places far too much money next to his glass. “I won’t keep you anymore. Go home and enjoy whatever is left of your night.”

Dean watches dumbly as Cas sits up straighter and then turns in his seat, his broad shoulders unyielding, suddenly. Dean knows he just can’t let it end like this.

“No, wait, Cas!”

Dean practically flings himself around the bar to reach Cas before he can unlock the door and leave without a backwards glance. He rests his hand on Cas’s shoulder, stopping him.

“It’s only because I have a rule about dating people that just got out of a relationship. It has nothing to do with you, I promise you. You need to focus on you, dude. Figure out what you’re looking for. If this one was just the last in a long line of guys who don’t understand you, try and see what people you’re going for. I mean, I’m no expert, and God knows I’ve had my fair share of jumping before looking moments, but I think you just need some Cas time right now, you know? If we ever start something I do not want to be rebound guy and you deserve something better than a one night stand.”

Cas stares at him, blue eyes half in shadow.  Dean holds his breath, hoping he didn’t just lose something. All he can hear is the clock ticking behind him and the pounding of his own heart in his ears.

“That was quite the speech,” Cas finally says. “You sound like you know from experience.”

“Cas, man. You have no idea.”

“I have some, like I said, a long line of rejections. Still…”  Cas’s eyes search his face and then nods to himself. “Maybe you’re right. I do tend to do things without thinking in this area of life despite being very practical usually. And you’re also right on anther point, Dean. You do not deserve to be “rebound guy”.”

Dean can’t help his grin as Cas makes the quotes motion with his fingers. They stare at each other for a bit longer before he unlocks the door. Cas steps out as the cold air filters in between them, causing them bother to shiver. Dean pauses, and then holds out his hand. “Let me have your phone.”

“My phone?”

“Yeah, you have one, right? Or have you moved on to something flashier like sky writing?”

Cas snorts and shakes his head. He fumbles in his pockets and then pulls out a slim, black smartphone. He unlocks it and hands it over. Of course, it’d be that kind of phone that can help you bake bread or turn off all the lights in the world with just a click or something. He finally finds what he’s looking for and puts his contact information in.

“There. There’s my number. Text me to let me know you get home, okay? And as for the rest, we’ll take it one day at a time, Cas. Let’s be friends, first.”

Cas smiles shyly as he looks down at his phone and nods. “Friends, first. I like that. Goodnight, Dean.”

“Goodnight, buddy. Be safe.”

Cas slips out and away, leaving a coldness in his wake as he takes his body heat with him. Dean watches him go, the black of the night almost swallowing him up. Cas pauses to pull his coat tighter, the glow of the streetlight lighting up his profile. To Dean he looks pure—angelic, almost, like a painting or a sculpture. With one last look at Dean, he eventually fades away, disappearing back into the world. Soon all Dean can see is his own breath in the air and the twinkling starlight from the surprisingly clear sky above. He locks up again and finishes his routine for the night. After he’s put the money in the safe and headed out back to his car, he feels happy inside. Like something good just occurred — like some new path has been cleared for him to travel. His drive home is quick and easy, there’s hardly any traffic mostly due to the earlier rain. It’s just as he’s pulling into his driveway that he feels his phone buzz in his pocket. It’s from an unknown number and his heart beats faster as he reads the message.

From unknown: I arrived home safely, Dean. Thank you, again. Would you like to get coffee tomorrow, or, perhaps I should say, later today? Oh, this is Cas, by the way. In case you didn’t know. :)

Dean saves the number and then returns to the message to reply, a grin creeping onto his face before he even realizes it.

Dean: Of course, dude. Coffee sounds great. Around 1pm?

Cas: Perfect. Do you know the Blue Java Café on Marion and Elm? It’s across from the park and one of my favorite places.

Dean: Sounds good. Can’t wait to talk to you sober, ya lush… (lol j/k hah) 

Cas sends him a sticking-tongue-out emoji as a response and Dean chuckles as he locks up his car. He has a nice, happy feeling in his heart as he thinks of Cas. Like maybe this is something special. Or maybe it’s just that it could be and has the potential to be. He knows he told Cas friends first, but Dean’s willing to see where it…where they, can go.

[lastoneout]

My blood clot pain has reached a weird point where it's kinda better as long as I don't use my hand for literally anything at all, but when it does flare it's straight up AGONY like a solid 7-8 on the pain scale and unfortunately it seems like this pain is no longer responding well to my current 5mg oxycodone, and like the last ER doctor I saw *tried* to prescribe me 7.5mg ones 'cuz she legit said 5mg probably wouldn't cut it, but my insurance straight up would not cover it and the cost without was $500(and that's with the best coupon I could find) and the ER doctor didn't have the time to put a prior auth through and just gave me the 5mg stuff(and I had to pay out of pocket for those too bcs my insurance would only cover a week's supply but they were at least only $40) so I guess my options are

1) go insane playing it as safe as possible not using my hand for anything and only taking the meds when I absolutely cannot stand the pain and pray I can hold out until I see my endovascular surgeon on friday

OR 2) go back to the ER and see if they can do the prior auth and pray my insurance will cover more than a weeks supply and also that the ER doesn't interpret this as drug seeking behavior and turn me down

I think what I am gonna do is again play it as safe as I can and try to only use the meds once a day if I can help it, and in the meantime call my insurance and see if they can give me a list if meds they do cover(tbh it's weird for oxy to cost this much, a similar supply for my dog was like $5 and I did talk to someone who works for my insurance the other day for a different reason and she also seemed shocked it wasn't covered and was so expensive) and hope that I can last until my follow up with my endovascular surgeon and double extra hope I'm either recovered a lot more by then or if I'm not that he'll have a plan to help resolve it faster or at least be willing to prescribe me one of the covered meds and do whatever prior auth is needed. Plus that way if the pain does get unbearable before then the list will help the ER give me something that will help better(if they are cool and don't assume this is drug seeking behavior).

This whole thing genuinely sucks so fucking bad, I'm in agony rn debating if I should take another pill before bed and risk building up even more of a resistance or try to thought it out to save my meds for if it somehow gets worse than this. I'm so fucking tired too I've avoiding my usual insomnia edibles AND my remaining ambien in case they react badly with the oxy and kill me in my sleep or something and that plus the agony mean's I'm not sleeping well and the agony is thus harder to deal with and my pressure headaches get worse cuz not sleeping us a major trigger and the cycle just spirals worse and worse, and I can't do anything fun in bed cuz I'd usually play video games and those require two hands and AOUHDGJKL I fucking HATE this!!!

Ima just try to tough it out and sleep and see where I'm at tomorrow and make that call regardless. Hopefully this doesn't drive me too insane and I can maybe sit at my desk, getting out of bed would do me some good atm. I need to feel normal for just one fucking day.

[fuck-customers]

I wish there was a way I could convince my boss to get on board with the idea of a suggestion box, so that all of us employees could anonymously write suggestions for how to improve the store + things we'd like that might make us more productive, feel more appreciated, etc. But there's no way for me to bring it up without making it seem like the reason for the box is because she's such a fuckup as a manager. (Because that is the real reason lmao) She's also the type who would read a legitimate constructive criticism and scoff and wave it off as us asking for something extremely unreasonable or make up some bullshit about how xyz can't be done to improve the store because there's not enough hours, or crew, or money in the budget, whatever. I can actually picture her doing that.

The past few days I've been obsessed with this idea (mostly because I had a nightmare shift that would've easily been avoided had she done her job and managed correctly and assigned people to do the setup work beforehand) but I can't think of a way to get her on board. I've considered just making a box myself and putting it in the breakroom with some pens and paper scraps, but I predict it wouldn't even be a full day before she tosses it out.

So, just to get some off my chest, I'm going to put some of the suggestions I WOULD'VE written here.

•Either bring back the stocking crew that came in at 5:00 a.m. before the store opened or schedule extra people on delivery days to stay in the stockroom and unbox all products and sort them by department/aisle BEFORE putting product out on the sales floor.

(This one is a direct reference to the stocking shift I recently had that was a nightmare because none of the stock had been pre-sorted by department, which was done in the past by the stocking crew, so we had to open boxes and sort them on the sales floor while simultaneously stocking items, while the store was open and we were constantly interrupted by customers. This made stocking take at least double, if not triple the time it would've taken. That delivery was a week ago, and the boxes are STILL sitting on the sales floor, half-stocked)

•While stocking, have each employee price tag each individual item, as our stock does not arrive pre-tagged, so that customers are not confused about the prices, since upper management removed the store scanners.

•Assign the ASM or a lead to exclusively do the schedule so that the schedule is regularly posted the 3 weeks out, as required, not 3 days out.

•Assign a lead or promote a non-management employee to be a trainer to correctly train the new hires.

(As of right now, new hires are hired and then basically thrown on the floor and told to figure it out and fend for themselves, obviously leading to many mistakes that need to be unfucked by the rest of the crew, they'll ask other employees for help, but most of those employees were "trained" in the same method, so they'll show the new hires the wrong way, the blind leading the blind, essentially)

•Schedule more than 1 person per department, this way there is adequate coverage in the event of a rush, plus in downtime, one employee can assist customers while the other does go-backs/recovery and makes the department look neat and presentable.

(The store looks like a tornado hit it currently) (I also know this one is probably a union-busting thing, but honestly? Remember KM@rts and how messy they always looked? My store makes KM@rt look like a model store)

•Do some morale boosters. Every employee in the store looks like they're in prison. (We kinda are) We literally got an online review (that SHE HERSELF PRINTED OUT) that stated that we all looked miserable and looked like we needed a moral boost. We desperately do. The real solution would be better pay and hours, but we know you, the SM don't have that much control over that. You could do small things, though. The previous ASM would regularly bring in snacks for the breakroom for us, would regularly have potlucks on holidays that brought us all together, she would also make sure to regularly tell each of us that we were appreciated and would recognize our hard work. Even if it was bs, it still raised morale.

ANYWAY, thank you for letting me rant. ✨️🙌

P.S. I know obviously none of you know my boss, since I'm anonymous and didn't specify where I work (for obvious reasons) but do any of you think the suggestions box thing has even a slim chance of working? In my head, I wasn't going to tell her it was my idea or ask permission, I was just going to set up the box in the breakroom and throw in a few of my own suggestions and see if any of my coworkers add their own. Because I felt if I asked permission or told my boss my idea, she'd take offense that I was indirectly calling her a fuckup (she is) and undermining her authority or some bullshit like that. Or do you guys think if I just do it without telling anyone, she might be curious and at least look at a few suggestions? Or should I ask her to set one up? I really don't think that would go well, personally.

Posted by admin Rodney.

[nicolesainz]

Within The Limits (Ben Chilwell x Jenson Button x OC)

Author's note: NEW SERIES BABES! I missed writing a full story, given that I always delete and redo my short fics, so this will be a probably 10-15 part story (if there's more, time will tell). This duo is very random, compared to the Mason x Carlos one I did last time, but I love these guys so much, so it was worth the shot. I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Chelsea Winster is a double working reporter for Sky sports F1 and the Premier League. At the ripe age of 25 she's surrounded herself with people who love and appreciate her (some more than others), that's how the former world champion Jenson Button got wrapped around her finger. But little does she know that an England senior and Chelsea player will step up his game just to see her smile. Who will she choose? Double trouble is fun but not when it comes to heart matters.

Warnings: nsfw content will be included, each chapter will get a warning so don’t worry, lots of swearing, intensity, age gap, fluff (of course)

next chapter

“Can you stop eye fucking Jenson for a minute? It’s as polite as I can ask you” Lissie nudges me with her elbow and I shake my head, coming back to reality.

“Sorry. Force of habit” I blurt out without realizing and Lissie slaps her hand on her mouth, shutting it.

“Oh my god. I don’t wanna know. Let’s just move on” she says and we focus back on the qualifying session that is currently taking place.

For some reason, qualifying for the British Grand Prix is always more thrilling than in any other race. Maybe neck to neck with Brazil but that’s because in both countries the weather is unpredictable, like the results.

Lissie works for the F1 network, while I for Sky Sports so most of the times at qualifying or free practice, I get to hang out with her since everyone else is in the comment box.

The one time I was in the commentary box with Crofty, Martin, Jenson and Nico, I almost confused Max with Checo and was about to announce Checo as the poleman instead of Max. That’s because I was heavily influenced by the way Jenson’s veins were showing around his muscled arms. Ever since that day, I refuse to step my foot inside there ever again.

Another reason why I try but fail to keep a distance from Jenson is that every time we are alone, we somehow end up in the back of a dark room, kissing like teenagers and making out until I can’t feel my legs anymore. Let’s just say that’s a detail no one knows. Not even Lissie. But I’m sure she’s suspected something given that in the space of an hour I showed up with a hickie on my neck.

I’m not afraid to admit that yes, I am into older men as well. Mostly the ones with brown hair and stupidly cute blue eyes, twice my age and 2009 world champion with Brawn, currently holding a microphone and analyzing how it’s impossible for the Ferrari’s to be on pole.

“I domt can’t tell whether you’re looking at the right side of the screen or left. Do you even pay attention to who is about to get eliminated?” Lissie snaps her fingers in front of my eyes.

“I can do multiple things at the same time. And yes, I’m looking both ways, what’s wrong with that?” I reply but now my attention turns to my friend.

“I seriously don’t get how you can be into older men instead of youngsters. Like, almost week in-week out in England, you’re surrounded by 44 handsome gentlemen and you’re telling me you only have eyes for Jenson?”

“Maybe. I mean, come on, look at him! He doesn’t compare to those boys in the Prem. Plus, half of them are perverts and others have girlfriends or wives. Jenson is single and I spend most of my time in the paddock with him”

“Have you at least told your loverboy that they are sending you for almost full-time at the Prem? He’ll miss you but not more than me” Lissie gives me a big smile and I hug her.

“He’ll find out when he sees me commenting alongside Micah Richards or Gary Neville. Plus, I think for some reason, they’ve assigned me to commentate most of Chelsea’s game and I don’t know if that has to do something with my name” oh the irony. My dad’s favorite team is Chelsea so when he and mum found out they were having a girl it was the perfect opportunity for him.

“Oh lucky! All of the hotties play for Chelsea. Well, used to, but some of them are still there. Like Ben Chilwell. A fine Englishman and champions league winner. What more than that?” She winks at my playfully and I roll my eyes with her comment.

"Not my cup of tea, L. Plus, all of them are arrogant assholes go just pose when the camera points at them." I do like football, I swear, it's the players that get on my nerves. Such divas.

"As if f1 drivers aren't snob and attention seekers?"

"Well, they have a sense of humanity and logicality. Driving the fastest cars alive, risking their lives, abandoning family and friends to travel the world just to entertain others. Footballers injure themselves and then take 2 months trip to the Bahamas."

"Remind me again why did they assign you to the Prem?" Lissie is amused with my ideas that she's been scratching her head the entire time.

"For banter, maybe?" I shrug

"Oh those poor boys, the things you will be telling them after the games."

____________________________________________________________

"Oh the way I knew that you couldn't get your eyes off the screen for even a second, satisfies me massively" Jenson whispers in my ear and I could faint right this instant moment.

"How can I? Especially when you are there. All bossy and classy simultaneously, explaining how the sport works better than anyone else" I smirk devilishly behind the crook of his neck.

"I still don't know for what reason you are attracted to me? My looks? My knowledge? Or my insanely good driving skills?" his hand lands on my thigh, caressing it up and down softly.

"All of the three" I sigh as I feel the hand going more upwards and uneasiness rushes over my body.

"Why so flushed darling? Does my hand on your thigh have this strong effect on you?" his lips kiss my jawline and a soft groan escapes my mouth.

"Oh I will miss this" I say as I hold on firmly to Jenson’s bicep and tighten my grasp around it.

“I’m not going anywhere dear, what are you talking about?” A small peck lands on my lips and I feel my lower lip being sucked by him.

I stop at my tracks and kiss Jenson sweetly before removing myself away from his lap, so I can tell him the truth about my job.

“I need you to be calm, m’kay?”

“I don’t understand. Is something wrong?” He looks worried and stressed.

“I’m being transferred. For the next two years I will be working full time in England.” I say out loud and it sounds like fake.

“Why? What? How? I mean, uh. Explain a bit further, please.”

“You know that I work for both the Premier League and F1. Well, Sky Sports decided to transfer me for two years back in England so I can commentate on the games and then they’ll decide where I will be permanently settled.”

“So that means I’m losing you? You’re not going to be around anymore?”

“Whenever there’s a weekend that I am free and F1 happens to be on, I will join you, just not as a commentator. I really hate that this has to happen”

I truly do hate it. For the past 4 years my life was about an airplane, no sleep, fast cars, statistics and Jenson. Now it will be 22 men kicking the ball for 90 minutes straight.

“I’ll come for visits too. Don’t think you’ll get rid of me that easily baby” he hugs my waist and grabs me back onto his lap.

“I wasn’t planning on it JB. Trust me.”

[starrypawz]

Science Fiction Double Feature (Reprise)

AO3 This has actually been in the wips for a while, but due to various reasons it's taken me a while to wrangle this fic but have some awkward Newman siblings Endgame spoilers for @the-passenger-if

This could be mistaken for any other sleepover. Even down to the cheesy romcom on the tv neither of them are really paying attention to. LIvvy had said something about ‘Oh I remember this one’ and that had been enough for him. 

And there’s pizza, the cheesiest, pepperoniest, greasiest one and it might as well be ambrosia or mana or something like that with the way Lucas devours the next slice,

“Ew,” Livvy chuckles, “You’re such a pig sometimes,” 

Lucas sticks his tongue out

“Eww,” Livvy drags the sound out for comedic effect.

Lucas chuckles and leans back against the couch which currently has the very important duty of being a critical part of the blanket fort they’d constructed, the first constructed by the Newman siblings in at least a decade. 

“Lucas,” 

“I’ll be fine,” Lucas had protested, although there’d not been much weight to it, “You don’t need to wor-”“Lucas,” Livvy had cut him off with a tone that in other circumstances would’ve had him say ‘you sound like mom’ but he’d managed to bite his tongue, “I think I’m pretty entitled to worry right now,”“Livvy-”And then she’d sighed (Just like mom) “What do you want?”“I-” Lucas had gone to speak but his stomach rumbled, and the reality of the fact he hadn’t actually eaten (At least in the human, mortal sense of the word) in a good while suddenly caught up with him. And suddenly all his mind contained was stringy, greasy in a good way cheese, the tang of tomato sauce, Goldilocks’ dough and pepperoni…

So

So 

So Much pepperoni 

“I want pizza,” 

Livvy had smiled, or at least had given something close to it, “You did always like your food,”“And…” Lucas had sighed, “I probably shouldn’t be alone,”

And so he wasn’t alone, and there was pizza. And if he didn’t think too hard about what likely went down the drain during one of the longest showers in his time in this realm this was just a sleepover. 

Livvy reaches over and gently squeezes his hand, “I’m not your first choice right?” She gives a weak chuckle, “I mean why would my little brother want to have his style cramped by his annoying older sister, right?” 

“Hey… you’re not that annoying, most of the time,” 

“Wow… thanks,” Livvy sighs.

“You’d…. Rather be with Ara right?”

“Yeah,” Livvy sighs and reaches for another slice of pizza, 

“She’ll be ok, right?” 

“Yeah…” Livvy pauses, “You know how she was just a bit dazed, she’s… she’s tougher than she looks,” 

 “I wish I could keep an eye on both of you,”

Lucas feels his heart drop “I think I’m the last…” He pauses, probably too long, “Person she wants to be around right now,” 

Livvy goes to counter that but can’t and it hangs between them for a good while. 

“And… you’d rather be with-”

“Jonny,” 

“Yeah him,” 

The journey back from Luna Ridge had been a strange mixture of tense and mundane as reality had fallen back into place if slightly bent and had rapidly ensued as they had negotiated unconscious Domini and Ara’s and it had largely been a hazy blur until about halfway down when Jonny had gone to change the gears and brushed Lucas’ knuckles just long enough they’d shared a look. 

And Lucas couldn’t deny the concept of bringing Jonny back here, shutting the rest of the universe out and it just being them was an appealing one and it makes him feel… wistful. 

“I can’t believe I'm saying this,” Jonny’s dry tone has just a hint of amused irony, “But I don’t want to freak my parents out… I should get home,” 

Lucas had given an exhausted chuckle

“I…” Jonny had started, swallows, stops and then Lucas finds himself in a very earnest, if awkward embrace that he soon melts into that somehow feels more intense than what they’d done in the back of the car up on Luna Ridge before Jonny lets go not before there’s a kiss on the top of Lucas’ forehead

“I’ll… call you tomorrow, right?”

“Right,” 

And then Jonny found himself pulled down enough for Lucas to kiss him. 

“I’m still not sure quite how-” Livvy sighs,“Doesn’t matter,”

“What’s weirder?” Lucas sighs, “The fact I’m kind of dating him or the fact you found out your baby brother is actually an all powerful cosmic horror?” 

“I’m… not sure,” Livvy laughs but it’s hollow, “I mean but are you really all powerful?” Livvy grins, “After all I did once convince you that if you planted jellybeans they’d turn into a tree-” 

“Hey, it's only recently I actually got anywhere close to my actual power,” 

“Or maybe older sisters are really the strongest force in the universe?” 

“Maybe,” Lucas shoves her lightly with his shoulder. 

They lull back into silence, neither of them really watching the movie. Not that there’s much to watch but Lucas knows if Jonny was here he’d have no end of snarky commentary about it. 

Lucas goes to reach for another slice of pizza and winces as a cut on his hand reminds him it exists. Livvy catches the wince and gives a concerned look and Lucas shrugs it off and she doesn’t look totally convinced. 

Thankfully the nurse had either brought the excuse of ‘a hiking accident’ (not a total lie)  or didn’t care enough to pry which suited him just fine. 

Sitting on an exam table with a worried relative just outside brings back unpleasant memories and he finds himself worrying the faint scars on his fingertips. Lucas had conceded that being checked over just in case wasn’t a terrible idea. Especially as he has to convince himself he’s not going to go through that sensation of feeling like his skull is about to split open all over again. 

But he’s soon let go with a ‘it looks worse than it is’ once most of the blood and grime was cleaned off and sent off with directions to take it easy, keep things clean and take Tylenol if he needed it.

The cliche reunion of star crossed lovers plays out on the tv and the credits roll and the last slice of pizza is eaten there’s no more convenient distractions. 

Lucas sighs. 

“What are we going to tell… mo-” He pauses,” Your mom,”

Livvy raises an eyebrow, “My mom? I think she still counts as our mom,” “I…” Lucas sighs, “I guess?” 

“I…I don’t know,” Livvy sighs, “She… She knows you kind of went missing, And…” Livvy stops short but Lucas had a feeling the next words were going to be something about police but Livvy distracts herself with a soda. 

Lucas worries his lip (and regrets it) there’d been no end of ‘Mom can’t find out’ situations over the years of varying degrees of severity that had been dealt with with varying degrees of success (He’s still pretty sure she never found out what happened on the spring break of 9th grade) but this one…

This one has him stumped. 

“Hey,” Livvy nudges him, “We’ll… work it out ok?” She gives that all too familiar grin of sisterly reassurance but she doesn’t seem convinced. 

Lucas grabs for his soda, throat suddenly dry. And splutters as he manages to take too much at once

“Fuck,” He coughs, “I’m fine…” He wheezes and then there’s a hand around his shoulder as Livvy pulls him in close like she had last done a seeming lifetime ago and he doesn’t protest. 

He’s seventeen again 

“Liv… Liv I’m fine… really. It’s just… some stupid asshole,” 

But he leans into her shoulder anyway. 

He’s twelve again 

“I don’t want to make you sick too,” 

But he leans into her shoulder anyway

He’s seven again

“I’m not scared,”

But he leans into her shoulder anyway

And now he’s twenty six

“Thank you,”

And he leans into her shoulder.

[imogenleewriter]

hello hi, i've got a question, what keeps you going while writing? i admire your consistency!

Hey!

Super valid question that I'm not entirely sure I have an answer to. Or maybe I have too many answers.

I'm going to give short ones (because I keep trying to answer this and writing a novel) but if you want me to elaborate I can.

1) Deadlines. If I don't have deadlines, I just waste time staring at a blank screen, and that's more stressful than forcing myself to get words down.

2) Writing stuff that matters to me. Before ychiits, I tried writing 1000 things with amazing plots and could never finish any of them. If you think about it, ychiits actual plot is so mundane, but for that, the characters were what mattered to me and a complicated plot would have taken away from that. The two wips mean different things to me as well. Writing fanfiction falls into that as well. I have no desire to write original works because writing Larry fanfiction means more to me.

3) General techniques that work for me. I could probably write an essay on this, but basically, I have so many strategies to get myself to write based on my mood.

4) Comments. I doubt I'd be close to as productive without comments and interactions. I probably get over 250 comments a week across all four fics now, and it's hard not to stay motivated when that happens. But at the start of ychiits I was getting like 4-5 comments per chapter, and that was still as motivating! (So please comment on every fic you love).

5) Planning. ychiits has a full draft. My current WIPs are less so because I found I didn't copy a single sentence from ychiits so it seemed silly to have a 100k draft when I only referred to it for scenes/chapters. So now I just focus on a general plot. My study looks like a serial killer den because of all the posters and cork boards and white boards where I keep all the plans. So, if i get stuck on a chapter, I write out everything I want to include in it. The more stuck I am, the more I flesh out the plan.

6) Talking things through with others. I started Ychiits because I know anyone in the fandom at all, so I was completely alone and didn't have a single beta until the last chapter when @hereforh and @enchantedlandcoffee looked through it as readers to make sure it all aligned so you can definitely do it without this. But now, because I have friends, lol, if I get stuck on a scene or chapter, I have people to talk to and bounce ideas off them and check they think what I'm writing makes sense. I've mentioned in my AN, but @hereforh and I have a constant chat - different time zones - and at least half of the time we're talking about fic ideas etc. @nooradeservedbetter also gives me amazing advice when I'm stuck.

7) Privilege. I don't know how to talk about this without sounding like I'm bragging. However, my job is after-hours. So, I don't work during the day on weekdays. It's a well-paying job, so I don't work full-time - my hourly rate is about double what it was when I worked in a hospital. Some of my shifts are being on-call overnight. This means I spend 10 hours in my study but only have to work when I get a call (that being said, I'm not very productive after 2am, so it doesn't help that much). There is still a need for me to bring in income, and does still take away hours from writing, but I obviously have more time to write than I did when I was working full-time.

8) Lack of sleep. Okay, so realistically, I need just as much sleep as everyone else, I know that. But I seem to survive better than most people would on the same amount of sleep.

9) Supportive husband. I mean, he's never read a word I've written or anything, but he is supportive in the sense that he knows writing is something I value and doesn't talk down about it. I think he'd be just as supportive if I were actually making an income from it as he is about it being fanfiction.

10) ADHD diagnosis and meds. Even medicated, my ADHD is still a big challenge to writing. It might not seem like that because of the frequency that I upload, but it still does. For example, I'll click out of the document to google a word or something and straight away get side-tracked, and after an hour, I'll remember that I was writing and come back to the document and realise I still didn't even google the word and the process starts all over again. But knowing that my brain works differently helps - i.e I know I can only write in 20-minute blocks, and then I need a break. That probably falls more into point three, but I know my limitations now. And ADHD meds still help bring me up to a point where I can actually finish things.

11) Letting go of perfectionism. Could my work be 10x better than it is? Yes. But when I'm writing and uploading 20k+ words a week, I don't have time to try and get every sentence perfect. The thing is, perfectionism freezes me. I probably would give myself more time between deadlines if I was sure that I would use that time to perfect chapters. But I either would still wait until the last minute and not use the extra time, or I'd get too wrapped up in getting every word perfect that I'd still miss every deadline. There are plenty of "good enough" words, sentences, paragraphs, and scenes in my fics that I know could be better, but I just don't have time to spend twenty minutes trying to find the right word or the best sentence structure. I hope that makes sense.

Anyway, this is still long af but I hope it helps a little. Happy to elaborate on any points - because I could definitely right about this all day - but again, it's already long af and I'm not sure if it is helpful at all lol.

[travelelrartemis]

what's your favorite type of starship and what are you currently flying around in?

Hi! Favourite type has a bit of a complicated answer! My all-time favourite dream ships are solar ships, but specifically I've been nonstop thinking about this absolutely gorgeous white one with a gold trim and crescent sail and double blade wings I caught a glimpse of flying out of a space station a while ago. I wasn't even looking to buy a ship, I just saw it for a split second flying out of the space station and shouted in pure shock so loud a group of Korvax ran up to me and tried to do some kind of emergency repair on my exosuit because they thought I was screamimg because my life support was failing. And I was dying. So if that means anything to you... well, it came back several hours later, and I got a better look at it. She was definitely a higher end class, good storage for a solar ship, even looked like the launch thrusters had recently been repaired and upgraded (though with what, I don't know). And the pulse engine looked damn close to brand new, but you could tell this wasn't a brand new ship! Just a very well maintained one!! And it's not just that they're stylish. They're just SO fuel efficient. It's almost scary seeing how big a difference a vesper sail makes on a ship's pulse drive compared to, quite literally, every single other ship you will ever pilot. Now I'm imagining how rarely I'd have to stock up on Tritium to get anywhere if only I had that ship. I can't. I have to stop. I'll be talking about it forever. I'll make myself sick talking about it. Does it sound like I'm being paid by a ship manufacturer? I promise you, I'm not!! I just really like this ship ok!!

And of course I was the most short on units I've ever been when I examined it a second time. Might not ever be able to buy it. Unless I can rope one of my friends into paying for it? I don't know! I have exactly one friend who makes a lot of money, or at least more than I currently do. And I don't think I'll be able to convince them to buy an entire solar ship for me, especially not one in such great condition, meaning it will be that much more expensive. sigh

(I would send a picture but I think I might've lost the pictures I took of it?? All I have are my written notes. sigh x2)

I guess my second favourite, more realistically obtained ship would be an explorer- I'm a traveller, after all! It would make sense that I should look for a ship specifically suited for better travelling. Perhaps one day I'll really start looking for one. Maybe I'll try and repair an old crashed one- I've helped others repair their ships, I think I'm quite skilled at it, ha. Ooh, maybe I could try and find a solar to repair?

As for what ship I currently have, I've had this beast of a hauler for a while now, which I'm more than happy with.

She looks a bit compact, but she's got excellent storage space, actually a bit better than some other certain haulers I've seen in and out of stations since I added a bit more available storage. Which, I definitely need that storage. Call it hoarding if you want, I like to call it sudden emergency collecting. My point is I keep a lot of miscellaneous things in my ship that I probably wouldn't be able to keep in any other ship. I suppose that's my only other legitimate reason for not buying a solar outside of money, I really do just need al that space. And physically, I could clear it out pretty easily, but not emotionally. Most of the old stuff in there are things that remind me of people I know. And, since I don't tend to keep to one base for very long, my ship is the best place for it! Also sometimes I sleep back there

Aaaah sorry for talking so long!! It's just a topic I care a lot about... I hope you understand, and also that I answered your question somewhere in that tangent? I also apologize if anything is misspelled. I'm very tired. Maybe I can go sleep in the back of my ship with all my stuff, like I was talking about

[thunderberryart]

Star's Rune Factory 3 Special 1st Playthrough, Part 1: First Impressions!

Welp, the day has finally come for fans of the Rune Factory series. Preorder copies of Rune Factory 3 Special are already arriving in people's mailboxes and it's not even the official release date yet. I was fortunate enough to be among those who got their copy a few days early and needless to say, I am extremely excited to finally play what is widely considered the best game in the series.

My copy was the Golden Memories Edition from XSEED's store that includes the Golden Wooly keychain. The keychain itself is extremely soft and adorable, and the other goodies included in the Golden Memories box are lovely as well. My favorite is the acrylic standee that features Micah, Frey, Lest, Alice, and Ares--while it's nothing particularly special as far as merch goes, the fact it features the protagonists of the Rune Factory games that have been released since the series was revived is, to me, pretty meaningful. Maybe one day we'll get a similar standee but with the protagonists of RF1/Frontier, RF2, and Tides of Destiny.

But we're not here to highlight what's included in the LE. We're here to talk about my first playthrough of RF3S, which at this point is only just getting started.

I've only played a few days in game so far and I have to say, while I don't dislike it, compared to RF4S and RF5, I am feeling VERY overwhelmed in the early game. A large part is muscle memory; I went into RF3S expecting it to play similarly to RF4S and while that is true in a lot of ways, there are enough differences in the UI that I occasionally find myself tripping up and hitting the wrong button when trying to equip a tool or weapon. There is also the matter of the controls themselves; Micah, at least to me, doesn't move as precisely as Frey/Lest or Alice/Ares, and so I find myself missing a lot when trying to water crops or till the fields. But from what I remember of my one playthrough of RF5, there was a somewhat similar problem with Alice/Ares during the farming segments, and those issues were ultimately fixed once I got around to upgrading the tools, so I imagine something similar might happen down the road with Micah.

I think another factor in what's making me feel overwhelmed is the cast. It's not that the cast is larger than Selphia's--from what I can tell, the population of Sharance about the same as before you rescue all of the Guardians during Act 1--but the personalities are definitely a lot louder and more prone to relying on one or two major character quirks. Collette is a glutton, Raven is a tsundere, Sofia and Sherman speak in opposites, etc. This is a double edged sword because if the quirk is something I can tolerate, than yeah, I'm all right with it. But if the quirk is something I personally find obnoxious, then I'm most likely not gonna be a fan of the character. Of the characters I've met so far, Shara, Sakuya, Carmen, Gaius, Blaise, Marjorie, Hazel, Evelyn, and Shino all have personalities that I genuinely like, but Marian, Karina, Pia, Sofia, Raven, and Sherman? All already getting on my nerves. (Especially Karina. She reminds me way too much of Bado and Elsje, and I didn't like those two either.)

But hey, it's really early in the game, and if RF4 taught me anything, it's never to judge a book by its cover. I mean believe it or not, I used to dislike Xiao Pai because I found her clumsy shtick annoying, but now she's probably my favorite of the bachelorettes. I wouldn't be surprised if the same thing ends up happening here with some of the characters who I currently find aggravating.

Beyond that, I mean... jeez, this game is pretty. RF3S clearly had a bigger budget compared to RF4S between the brand new character/monster models and the new intro. I'm still disappointed there's no female player option and/or datable bachelors, but prettied up or not, RF3S, like RF4S, is a port. I guess if there's anything I would have changed up, it's the portraits. Rune Factory has long suffered from a case of giving the majority of its characters massive baby faces even when they're supposed to be adults and I find it even more glaring here than in RF4S. Like c'mon guys, it's possible to give a character softer, youthful features without making them look like a literal child.

That's all for now! I'll come back with a new post once I've talked to the villagers more and dealt with the tanuki monster everyone keeps blabbering about...

[audiovisualrecall]

A list of things I want or need to do.....

Schedule driving lessons

Work on unicorn painting

Work on illustrations for steph book

Work on 'cinderell' comic rewrite/update

Laundry today

Dishes+ run dishwasher today

Schedule dentist appt

Schedule vet visit for Edison- he has a cold or allergies or something, also a growth on one of his toes??, and I want to really in-depth discuss a plan for his weight bc ive had no success. Also he's due for annual vaccinations presumably, so. (Wish blue pearl was not so expensive bc they now have Fear Free vet visits and the difference in his behavior when we went there last time compared to other vets weve gone to was just amazing. He was able to wander around the room and it didn't feel like a typical exam room for pets so he wasn't scared and hiding, he allowed the vet and assistant to poke and prod him and manhandled him even if he wasn't thrilled, he didn't cry or hiss or scratch anyone! But for regular vet visits they're really pricey :/)

Work on Eitan and Zahav story/comic

Work on iron man/dragonriders of pern au story

Buy parts for pvc watering system for garden (need to go with dad) and set up

Work on bookcase (with dad)

Window-shop/buy stuff for steph bridal shower (with ma or on my own, but the best store to go to is far enough I'd rather go by car, and it's more fun to go with someone else and discuss ideas and also less likely to impulse buy everything?)

Go to DSW to get new sneakers (with ma, access by car travel only and easier to have a second opinion on shoes. My current pair I have a hole in the top by my big toe...oops)

Work on website: photograph artwork professionally, edit photos, design website layout and complete that. Add artwork to portfolio gallery on the site, add my photo and about me info. Request refund for the dumb add-on I didn't realize was useless. Make the website what I want it to be. May need to learn coding. Need to slim down choices for artwork to include to only the best stuff it makes sense to include, not just things I like.

Design pride plants stickers/pins

Plan for rainbow enamel or just hard enamel autisticat pins. Also, keychains?

Rework/update etsy listings/items available...

Come up with additional ideas for products. Stickers/prints/pins...keychains?

Fulfil current etsy order - soon

Organize my room - try on clothing, go thru piles of stuff, figure out what to do with certain things and if the new bin will help what to put in it, decide what to put back into drawers and which ones for what items, go thru some other stuff like bank statements, organize receipts, etc

Put shelf above window above curtain rod for displaying some stuffed toys (need dad's help)

Hang up new Queer pride flag (need help, also it's way bigger than I expected so may need to fold some of it behind and stitch it to itself to fit on the wall, need help to pin it up on the wall and probably a second step stool at least)

Look for vases for bridal shower for flowers (with ma or solo)

Go thru and organize stuff on breakfast bar

Plan out a budget - figure out how much I tend to spend on different categories of stuff per week or every 2 weeks or monthly, figure out how much I earn in that time period (if it's weekly it's half of my pay bc I'm paid every other, if it's monthly gotta double that amt, also gotta average it out/pick a general usual amount since depending on how much OT I do my pay is more or less lol). Consolidate that info together to decide on a basic budget for each category/ overall spending for the time period.

make list of things I need/want to buy or tend to buy, marked with priority or how often for repeat purchases, compare with budget for what impulse items/wants I can acquire in a given time frame and which to save for the next etc

Get a new bike or get mine fixed...

Spend time outside/go on walk

Water plants

Draw for fun. Draw tony or stevetony or dragons or cats

Read...

Get ice cream at some pt like tomorrow night if I'm off Thursday or on Thursday if I'm off Friday 🥺🥺🥺

Plan days to do activities! Kayaking/beach/farmers market/street fair/museum. With steph?

Plan to do something fun w work friends outside of work

Pride fest: who is going with me?

Renfair when it's time???

Pay for tallis!!! Today preferably! Write check and take it over to shul?? (Or give to ma to take to services this evening or go with her?)

[nickgerlich]

A Really Big Deal

The industrial age brought about a great deal of change for the US. It marked the slow but steady transition from rural and agrarian economy to one that is more urban with a burgeoning retail environment. We didn’t need to make or grow everything we consumed, because we could just buy it.

So we did, patronizing newly minted department stores starting with Macy’s in 1858, followed by Montgomery Ward in 1872 and Sears in 1893. But there was still plenty of opportunity and unmet need, which motivated James Cash Penney to open his namesake store in 1902 in Kemmerer Wyoming. It was an eyebrow-raising move, because whereas his predecessors were based in New York City and Chicago, his was in a very remote part of a very remote state. I had an opportunity to photograph that original store a few years ago.

But that did not stop JC Penney from being successful. He added stores quickly, and in 1916 ventured east of the Mississippi into the territory held by those predecessors. By the 1920s, JC Penney was nationwide with 120 stores.

Skipping forward to the modern era, JC Penney found itself less and less in small towns, and more and more in suburban shopping malls, where they have been a mainstay now for decades. The company has hit some potholes and speed bumps this century, though, with a failed attempt at Everyday Low Prices (EDLP) that turned off their bargain-hunting customers, and then a bankruptcy filing in 2020. They were scooped up in a partnership of two shopping mall developers, Simon Property Group and Brookfield Asset Management.

With that ownership came access to much-needed capital to try to revive their stores and the brand itself. It’s part of a billion-dollar plan to turn a very important corner, and it finds JC Penney doubling down on Christmas with an ad campaign airing on Amazon Prime’s Thursday Night Football. The plan is also heavy on the in-store experience and partnerships with high-visibility celebs. Online is still part of the equation, but since its owners run the malls in which JC Penney resides, it is understandable they want to push the brick-and-mortar aspect.

The partnerships include notables like Martha Stewart, the octogenarian who is synonymous with domestic life, and Shaquille O’Neal, the retired NBA star turned entrepreneur. This gives us a hint at their target market, meaning Gen-X and older.

But I will be honest. JC Penney is going to have to work hard to convince me to shop there. The Amarillo store has been allowed to slide into retail hell, with poor merchandising, stockouts, and the like. I have walked out frustrated more than once, and in fact, probably for the last time.

As for their current pricing strategy, which is an endless onslaught of online promos and special codes, I feel like there is never any reason to pay the supposed list price, because if it’s not on sale this week again, it will be soon. The whole idea of promos is to convey urgency, but I feel that nothing is urgent there. Just skip the list prices, please.

Yet early results show that JC Penney’s efforts are paying off, with sales being 50% higher than forecast. At least some people are buying into the campaign.Yet I see something else happening here that really caught my attention.

Amazon, which paid $11 billion to broadcast Thursday Night Football for 11 seasons, is selling ad slots to its competitor!I have to wonder about the thinking behind this move. Are ad sales not what they expected they would be? Could Amazon be earning more by directing customers to its own website as opposed to selling those ads? Or are they just being nice guys and sharing the customer base?

Good questions. I am not sure what it is going to take for JC Penney to get me back in their store again. I have lingering memories of empty retail space, but with merch still strewn haphazardly across whatever racks they still had. It was a retail wasteland. It is hard to un-see something like that.

The fact that the company is wagering a billion dollars, though, says that maybe—just maybe—they might be able to make that turn. Hey, at least they’re still alive. Two of those three predecessors are dead or nearly dead, and the other is shuttering stores faster than leaves falling in autumn.

Dr “Keep Trying” Gerlich

Audio Blog

[cantfightmoonlight]

"I know," She promised him, giving his arm a light squeeze at the thought. "Oh no. Nope. You're going to try on what you want. I'm keeping my opinions to myself. You're the groom. It's your day. Whatever you want, I'll make happen, even if it ends up killing me a little bit inside," She teased, peaking a look up at him from where she was currently still resting her head against his shoulder. But, as Jonah prefaced his next sentence with 'you'll hate this', Bri scrunched up her nose. Lifting her head up as she looked over at him in anticipation. And there it was. She didn't even bother to hide the visible grimace. "Why? Why do you hate me? And it does not make sense! You could have a platform and an aisle. I mean at least for the ceremony. Take off your shoes after in between the ceremony and the dinner, if you insist. But, you want the pictures that are going to be memorialized for the rest of time to have you and your bridal party's feet on display?" She asked with a raised brow. "But, what do I know. It's your wedding. I will not be barefoot though and you can't pay me enough to do that. No matter how much I love you."

"Isn't it?" Bri countered. "Maybe not deliberately, but it does feel like I've been left out. Okay, but when have we hung out the three of us? Ever? Or even with other people? I mean I have Ben. We could go on double dates, but we don't. Bexley treats you two like your her gay dads and Amrita was introduced to you as family the second they discovered they were siblings. And then... there's me and, you can say that's not the case, but I didn't know you were planning on hyphening your names until Rohan told me, so yeah, it does feel like I'm constantly the last to know things. But, it's okay. Really. I get why. Ro probably loves Amrita already and Bexley and you get along with everybody. So, of course, you guys would hang out and be close. She's his sister and about to be your sister-in-law and I'm just the cousin and not a very likeable one at that. So, it's okay, I promise," She told him, giving his hand a small and reassuring squeeze before she dropped her arms back down to her sides. If it had been a couple months ago, she might have been hurt by it or devastated and sure, she'd be lying if she said it felt great to always seem to be the last person to know things, but she also knew that she was overly dramatic and took things way more to heart than she likely should, so she had made her peace with it. "Yeah, you do and that's a good thing. Jonah, it's a good thing. You don't have to try to prove to me that you love me. I know you do and we're always going to be close and hang out. I just... I don't know if I'm really part of the life you're building with Rohan? And maybe that might change, but it might not, and it's okay."

"Good, because you should be. You're getting married! That's huge. And we should be celebrating," She reasoned, trying to change the subject off of the elephant in the room. "Whoa, no, no, no. It's way too late to be getting cold feet- And okay. Well, they won't b..." She started to say only to trail off as she realized that discovering your niece is alive only to have to leave the town to not wind up dead yourself and forget her might do just that. "Okay good, because I- I can't handle another panic attack at the sight of me. No offense. It's just Dilan already freaked out at me and stabbed me back at New Years. And I really can't take another freak out to that extent. Not that I think the aunts will stab me, but you know what I mean. But, okay. I'd like that too. I miss them and home in general, but... maybe we should have a code word for when I should come out? In case they don't take the news too well? But, okay. Yeah, I figured as much. But, question," She bite down on her lower lip as she snuck another peak up at him. "What happens if they don't want to leave? I just wanted to check if you had a contingency plan?"

"I was... I was only joking, but... I don't know if you should promise that? I mean I get you have no plans on leaving town now, but what if you and Rohan decide that is where your futures take you? I mean I know Rohan can't leave right now, but what if he one day decides to walk away from this life for you. would you honestly stay here?" She pointed softly out.

"Obviously I have a binder. I have binders for everything and they're color coding. You know how much organization brings me joy. And I'd love to. Just let me know when you're free and I haven't seen a creepy old lady wandering around yet, so as of now, I don't actually think it's haunted. But, if that changes, I may need you to ask your husband about how one may go about conducting an exorcism. Do I get a priest to bless the place or is that only in movies? And yeah, yeah. You're both happy in love and, you can consider yourself lucky, I just know he's luckier is all. But, okay. Home it is - or, welp, home for now."

He didn't believe her one bit but let the subject go with a light laugh and a nod, "You do have me." And that was a promise too. He moved closer as she placed her head on his shoulder, pace slowing down too as they walked, and really, he wanted more of such days, didn't want to be tensed with fear but that felt like it was too much to ask for these days. "I will do my best to at least try on what you have in mind? I like simple things and your style is well.. a proper style. I look like I roll out of bed and call it day," he laughed a little, "But I want to actually look good for him. But the you'll hate is... well I'm going barefoot for wedding since it's on the beach, it makes sense." Sensing a slight dejection, Jonah shook his head, "I mean, yes, you both had your differences but that's not the reason here? No one was deliberately keeping this from you, it's also not a case of leaving you out," he reassured her. "Not really? Rohan, Bex and I, yes meet up, but it's not everyday or even all the time? Same with Amrita and Ro. He just introduced us formally after they discovered it, but we don't all hang out together? Amrita drops by the aquarium from time to time but all three of us together doesn't happen as regular as you might think it to be?" He himself was caught up in ongoing research to block out time for social things, which, yes, was likely not a good thing, but he liked how the way his mind diverted, and he was trying to be more social, but more people lead to talking and that was never something he was good at. "I do have friends here, it'd be unfair to them to say I don't but..." he shrugged, "I'm with you and Rohan the most."

You should be excited. Those words rang in his head over and over, a weak smile forming when he looked at her. He was, he was excited and looking forward to it, he was, "I am, I am," he voiced those thoughts, but they feel like reassurances to himself, quiet and soft rather than what excitement should sound like. "I just…" There were so many things that could go wrong with their visit here and that kicked up his anxiety, "I don't want them to get hurt." He would have said more on that but Bri grew silent for a bit and all his thoughts stilled as he watched her. "Oh?" He began to backtrack on his words but as she continued he sighed a little in relief at the misunderstanding, "Oh, no no, I didn't mean surprise them, god, that would not work, no, I meant that I will tell them but you, like you said, be somewhere near while I do. I want them to see and talk to you first, before anyone else. They'll be coming in a week before, so it'll be hard to keep for them not seeing you anyway." He paused again, gaze averting as he looked away sadly, "I won't be able to pick them up, because well… you know, but yes, I'll have to talk to Rohan to bring them in to the house." The weight inside his chest grew, the warmth and happiness that began to bloom at Rohan finally meeting his mothers was overshadowed by those words, "Yeah..they'll leave…" He wished the opposite was the case, they could stay and live in this town that he had to call home now, but darkness loomed over Lunar Cove, the little moments of sun that peeked to cut through the shadows wasn't enough for him to feel relief or any sense of safety to having his mothers here. Yes, the outside world posed it's own dangers, but he had lived out there for thirty plus years, the fears that came with its accidents he had accepted, but this? He wasn't afraid of dying, not in the outside and not in Lunar Cove anymore either, not when he brushed with it more times that he'd like, yet he couldn't shake the feeling that crept of his mothers, her aunts, dying here. That he realised was far greater than his own future demise.

Thoughts weaved on other things, and that right there, added to his solemn mood. He was glad to be looking down and away when she tried to joke, his mind not letting that register as just a casual thing. Blinking rapidly he tried to let his emotions not show, feeling rather pathetic that it still held that sentiment. But that was his fault and despite her wanting to brush it off in this moment, it still meant that she held it to heart and neither did it erase his mistake, and he owned up to it. "No, you're right though, I did do that. I promise, I'm not going to leave. I shouldn't have done it in the first place." He missed home a great terrible deal after that, he often did, but this was his home now whether he'd be alive long enough to live it was another question. He braved a smile but it fell flat as he looked to the ocean again for a moment, a lung full of sea air somewhat steeled him. "It would strange, yeah, but good, I just didn't well... you know." He sighed a little, a tick of a smile forming now as she kept talking, "Of course, you'd have a binder. But that's good, I'm glad found something that you like, really, it's wonderful, you should show me sometime. Sounds like it fits your tastes too, even if it might be haunted? I won't tell her, but you don't mind it?" He had, by now, assimilated and adjusted to haunted things, finding them rather charming in a way thanks to being around Rohan, still he posed that question to Bri unsure if she held such a sentiment. "Yes, I'm okay with that, you bought it. Thank you for thinking of us but we'll be okay." A fresh is what they wanted, a house to call their own when they finally got married, and that excited him pushing fears away for the time being. "I appreciate your bias," he said with a chuckle, "But no. I've never met anyone so understanding and loving, even after everything I've put him through he still holds no expectations and lets me be me. How could I not consider myself lucky?" He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the sun warm his body and soul before giving her a light nod, "Yeah, we can head back."

[thepixelelf]

and the universe said,

02 "fuck you and your interview"

genres/tags: soulmate au, idol au, comedy, romance, dumbassery chapter warnings: language, mentions of a non-fatal car collision. reader is shirtless for most of a scene. if you wear bras and would like to, you can imagine reader in one. relationship(s): ot13 x reader

When soulmates are suddenly thrust upon the world, you are one in a million who wishes they weren't -- and that's before you meet the person (people?!) making your life much harder than it needs to be. And before someone asks you to sign an NDA.

series masterlist

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It’s 300.15 Kelvin outside and you’re wearing a turtleneck and you want to die because the person on the other side of your soulmate phenomenon has never heard of shutting the fuck up.

“They liked you!” Heejun insists.

“Yeah, sure,” you groan, slumped over your kitchen table with your head resting atop your shut laptop. “Until someone started singing and my mark went all the way up to my freaking chin!”

“Okay but they didn’t dislike your mark—”

“No, they thought it was fascinating. So fascinating, in fact, that once they saw it, they forgot all about my dissertation!” You sit up, beyond frustrated, and tug off your turtleneck, throwing it onto the floor like it personally wronged you. The AC in your apartment just has to be broken, but it doesn’t matter anyway. The mark has returned to its home on the back of your hand.

Heejun doesn’t bother turning away or covering his eyes, having seen you in less.

“All they cared about was my stupid mark,” you whine, crossing your arms in front of you and making a sour face. “‘Oh, wow, I’ve never seen a mark like that before.’ ‘Are those music notes? Is your soulmate a singer?’ ‘Have you met them?’” Even though the words come out mockingly, you slump more and more as you repeat the questions you got berated with in your Zoom interview. “Fuck, I’m never getting a job.”

“Don’t say that. They might call you back.”

You sigh. “Please don’t get my hopes up.”

It’s been about two months since the soulmate phenomenon rocked the world, and that many days minus one since you found out your mark, which is already a proven miracle amongst the general population, is also special amongst other victims of the phenomenon.

“Oh, god.” Eyeing your arms, you groan. “Songbird’s at it again.”

Not only does your mark move whenever your supposed soulmate sings — it extends.

The bars, accompanied by notes and pianissimos and double fortes and symbols you’ve yet to bother googling, spread past the original mark and curl around your wrist, slithering up your arm like a snake through the grass. With your turtleneck strewn and abandoned somewhere on your floor, you and Heejun watch as the music climbs up to your shoulder and slips around your neck, circling twice before moving to your other arm. It’s like you’ve got two full sleeves of tattoos without the teeth-gritting pain that comes with actually getting it done in a parlour.

No, just a whole different kind of pain.

In the ass.

You can’t walk down the street without people gawking at you like you’re an alien — which, honestly, you can’t even blame them for. What the fuck kind of human has tattoos that snake along their arms as if they’re alive? Even Heejun can’t take his eyes off your mark, which has looped back up your left arm and started to wrap around your chest.

“Heejun!” You snap your fingers in his face, jolting him back into pay attention to me land. “I’m lamenting my current and probably eternal unemployment right now; at least pretend you hate this shit as much as I do.”

Shaking his head and frowning, Heejun tries again to console you. “C’mon, there’s no way they’d let the fact that you have a soulmate mark affect whether they hire you or not.”

“Tell that to my other two interviews.”

The staff branches off in some places, and you follow Heejun’s eyes as they trace the music reaching all the way up to your cheek. It does that a lot — the splitting up thing. You’re too sick of the mark overall to care to think about why.

“We should just find them,” Heejun posits.

You blink. “What?”

“I mean, the only way to get them to stop singing is to ask, right?”

Straightening up in your seat, you realize you never really thought about meeting the person on the other side of your mark. You’d been too caught up in the whole, what the fuck is happening why is there a random tattoo on me holy shit why is it moving what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck of it all. And besides, every case you’ve happened to hear from the news has ended up the same way — the soulmates met because their marks led them to each other.

You sort of just expected it to… happen. You never thought about going out to find the person inadvertently ruining your life yourself.

Heejun asks, sincerely, “You want to meet them, don’t you?”

“I… guess.” You shrug.

Do you?

The idea of asking them to stop singing — at least while you’re in a serious interview for a real-life, adulting job — is appealing, that’s for sure. The fact that they’re supposed to be the love of your life is also a factor, though.

You don’t know why, but that’s somehow less appealing to you.

And the weirdness that is the feeling of not wanting to meet the love of your life just yet (because who wouldn’t?) gives you pause.

Your soulmate stops singing, and the staff slinks back until it’s just five empty lines on the back of your hand. It’s a chilling feeling, when the notes disappear, and you shiver with your whole body every time. Another reason you’ve come to dislike your mark. Despite the annoyance the music sets off every time it spreads across your skin, you feel a dreadful sense of… emptiness when it leaves.

To feel that constant start and stop, start and stop—

It’s exhausting.

“Have you tried reading the music?”

“Are you kidding?” You scoff at Heejun. “I played percussion in junior high marching band, dude. I can’t even sightread; I’m hardly a music prodigy.” Scrutinizing your now-plain mark, you say, “Besides, how would that help?”

Heejun rolls his eyes. “You’re seriously dense sometimes. They’re always singing. Either it’s their job, or they’re trying to get your attention.”

“If they wanted to get my attention by annoying me, then they’re doing a bang-up job.”

“If they’re a singer,” Heejun continues, ignoring you. “—it’ll be even easier to find them. They’ll probably be singing all their own songs.”

You shake your head, doubtful. “I don’t think singers spend all day just singing their own stuff.”

“Idols practice all the time—”

“My soulmate is not an idol.”

“Why not?”

The look on Heejun’s face is serious, and you almost squirm under his gaze. Instead, you scrunch up your face and shake your head. “They’re just… not, okay? Idols aren’t my type.”

“Not your type?” Heejun regards you in such disbelief, you want to be annoyed again. “Bub, ‘idol’ isn’t a type of person, it’s a job description.”

“Yeah, and venture capitalists aren’t my type either.”

Heejun groans, but you can tell he won’t argue with that — he dated a business major in university. It didn’t go well.

Not that all business majors are bad, of course. That one just so happened to be a real bitch.

“Fine,” he relents. “Let’s assume they’re just trying to get your attention by singing nonstop— like now.”

Heejun points at your arm, and you look down to find your mark extending again to your infinite dismay. You let out a sigh.

“If they’re not a singer, maybe they’re singing songs with hints in them,” he suggests.

“That’s awfully elaborate, isn’t it?”

Shrugging, Heejun takes hold of your hand from across the table and studies the notes as they dance over your skin. “Your mark is elaborate. You don’t have it easy like all the others.”

“That girl almost hit her soulmate with her car.”

“Yeah, because the universe literally dragged them together,” he reasons. Then, “It’s weird…”

You pull your hand out of his just as the mark recedes, a shiver pulsing through you. “What’s weird?” 

“Nothing.” He nods at your phone, which is sitting face up on the table, lit with a notification, “You got an email.”

Not wanting to pry into whatever is going on in Heejun’s head, you grab your phone. You expect some random email from a newsletter you never subscribed to in the first place, but when you read the subject line, your eyes widen.

“Second round of interviews?!”

Heejun smiles wide. “See? I told you they liked you!”

“Oh my god. Dude. It’s tomorrow. Oh my god.”

“Yeah, yeah, stress head. Let’s go over the practice questions again.”

“I love you.”

He snorts. “No shit.”

⭒

Sitting in small coffee shop near where your interview — second round! — will take place in twenty-five minutes, you mutter the answers you practised with Heejun late into last night under your breath. You scroll through your phone, reading up on the company for the third time.

You can almost hear Heejun nagging you in your head.

Relax.

Letting out a long breath, you put your phone away and take a sip of your drink, eyes drifting out the window.

It’s a nice day, unfortunately. If it weren’t for the white turtleneck you’re wearing, you might be happy about the warm weather. You pray to whatever is out there that your antiperspirant is doing its job, because this is the nicest turtleneck you own, and you seriously don’t trust your soulmate not to break into song during your interview. You can only hope they don’t sing a full song today— your shirt will cover partial tunes, but who knows if your soulmate is actually cast in a musical, or something. 

Earlier, you set an alarm on your phone so you’ll know when you’ve got to get moving to be exactly seven minutes early, with three minutes of leeway in case you get lost inside the building. With that alarm in mind, you let yourself sink into the art of people-watching, zoned out and half-listening to the music playing in the shop. A song you know comes on, and you hum along. 

Ice cold something splashes across your back.

You flinch so hard, your own drink goes flying, and on instinct, you stand up. Whipping around, you turn to see the masked face of a man with an empty plastic cup in his hold, the lid squeezed tight in the opposite hand.

His eyes are as wide as dinner plates, which is wild because you’re the one drenched in iced coffee.

You have nothing to say except, “What the fuck!”

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updates for and the universe said, are not on a schedule. there is no taglist. thank you for reading!

[studiojeon]

use me | jjk

this is part of my troubled outsiders series. i think you can read this by itself though :)

| summary | -   Jungkook was not someone to establish relationships and bonds out of interest, you knew that. Or maybe not, truth be told, he was an authentic enigma, so open yet so closed and shielded from others to see through, and that didn’t exclude you.

warnings: language (?), mentions of hook ups and situationships. mentions of emotional trauma.

contents: a compilation of moments that contributed to the growth of their relationship, jungkook is hard to read, jungkook is hard to read, jungkook is hard to read and sus. oc is kinda whipped and scared af. chaeryeong knows who you are and where you live. jk and oc are scared to let each other in. friends to lovers, idol!jungkook x student!oc.

author’s note: i hate this, but i have to get it off my chest. (the narration is off af but if i keep it in my drafts for longer this will never see the light of the day). p.s. thank u so much for the support on the last drabble <3

playlist: rain by trey songz (feat. swae lee). 

words: 4.75k

“JK?” as his broad back faces you, you call out his name timidly, not missing the way he swiftly turns around as soon as he hears his name come from your lips. Hair wet and darker than usual, a very big sweat stain at the center of his hoodie. He had just gotten out of practice, you assumed. 

“___?” he replied with the initials of your name as well, one of his tired grins plastered on his face, he must have been exhausted. You had caught on to him just as he walked out of the practice room in front of the elevator on your way to your office, right when you needed him, but now you weren’t so sure if it was a good idea to pester him. Even so, you didn’t know anyone else you could ask for help, aside from Linh who was currently in her own office doing other tasks you had assigned to her.

“Are you busy right now?” your eyes stare at him shyly, in hopes that he was willing to help you out, because you wanted to be around him, so maybe he could share a bit of his positive energy with you, the past week had been hellish.  “Could use some help returning all those heavy stacks of paper in my office”.

“Of course! Why didn’t you give me a call earlier though? It’s pretty late” he walked by your side and you enter the elevator, beginning your adventure around the company.

Jungkook was fun. Always bubbly and reciprocative, constantly trying his best to make you laugh and make the absolute best of your situation, even if he could be a bit stubborn at times. You liked the spontaneity he provided though, the way he would switch from one topic to another and how he would make silly faces at you whenever you locked eyes. 

He didn’t know, but in pure ignorance, he had just made your day ten times better. 

In the past week, you had received a lot of counterarguments, one by one, on how useless your management tactics were. Granted, you hadn’t expected for your ideas to be welcomed with open arms, but at least you had hoped they would take them into consideration. You had also been assigned a team, in charge of social media management, who worked monotonously and with little to no insertion in the actual target audience… your logic was: how can you advertise products to an audience you don’t even have the mere interest to know? You had designed a strategy, presented it, and no one paid any mind to you. 

But for the most part, you felt lonely. Had no one to talk to, nor go to whenever you needed your spirits to be lifted up.

Chaeryeong was busy busy with group projects and work. To the extent where she would get up at seven in the morning and come back at 12 pm. It wasn’t always like that, so you didn’t worry too much, but the fear she would wear herself off like usual still crowded your mind.

You close your office door with a sigh. Tired from everything, but somehow, your heart a little fuller, knowing that maybe you could use Jungkook in the future to give you a lift. Both figuratively and literally because he had offered to drive you home, being the gentleman he was.

“Why do you look like a sad puppy?” he asked you once you were sitting by his side in his very expensive and luxurious mercedes. Tinted windows and jet black shiny paint covered the outside of his car, the smell of air refresher and pinecone filling the inside. Mans was getting hotter by the minute.

“It’s friday night after the longest week of work. How can I not?” you put on your seat belt and lean back against the leather cushions. He pouts in response to you, with a concerned look on his face. 

For a second you wonder if he did this with most coworkers… being nice to them and offering them drives after having met them just a few times before. Kinda risky behviour, considering his position and squeaky clean reputation. You figure this would only last a bit before he realized he had more important things to be focusing on.

“Do you ever get chased home?” you ask randomly. 

With one hand on the wheel and the other leaned against his door he meditated on his response. “It happened once… And then I moved out, got a new car and everything. Shit was wild” he chuckles and you think that was the first time you had heard him curse, like ever. Jungkook, friendly and everything, wasn’t too big of a talker, but with you he found himself spilling, without giving it much thought. It felt refreshing to hear his voice and listen to his stories and the way he expressed himself. He was more interesting than he seemed, apparently. “Aren’t you hungry, by the way? We can have something to eat before i drop you off”

Traffic was hellish in Seoul everyday at every hour, and choosing to drive through Itaewon on a friday night wasn’t the smartest decision on Jungkook’s behalf, but you didn’t have the heart to tell him that. Considering the demands of his job, he probably didn’t know his way around the city that well. You conclude taking a detour wouldn’t hurt. “I’m starving actually.”

He ends up taking you to a restaurant near your neighborhood you had mentioned being good and not crowded at all, the latter catching his attention immediately. It was a modest but nice place owned by a very funny and loud ahjussi. The man had lost count of how many times you had come down from your apartment at 11 pm and asked him to make you vegetarian tteokguk, but they were enough so that he could memorize your five orders by heart and the amount of saewoo mandu you could down by yourself in five minutes. You were making him rich at that point so the least he could do was comply when you gently asked him to shut the place down for you. Jungkook hadn’t asked you, but you knew how things could get awkward and dangerous quickly if too many people found out about him being there. “Ahjussi, you don’t have to” the boy protested as he noticed that the man had shut the blinds for him.

“It’s okay, boy. _____ has been single handedly paying the remnants of my mortgage for over a year now, I don't mind doing this for her.” he joked in his usual nature. already writing down your order and patiently waiting for Jungkook in front of you to voice out what he wanted for a meal. “And well, you and your friends are making our country proud, it’s the least i can do to thank you”

“Ah, thank you.” Jungkook bows to the older man. Your heart softened in your chest, seeing how considerate he was towards other people. He must be great with parents, you think. “Do you really not get that many people around here?” he asked worriedly once he sat back down on the wooden chair.

“We do! But she’s the one who comes the most often” he nods toward you and Jungkook smiles once he found your gaze, a glint of playfulness in his eyes. 

“Can you recommend me anything, miss?”

“Of course, sir. Yeol-ah, double up my order. Drinks are on me today.” You yell at the man’s son in the kitchen, who was still a bit older than you, but also close to enough to let you order him around shamelessly. You knew him quite well, actually. He was Chaeryeong’s boyfriend after all.

The tall boy pokes his head out of the kitchen door with a very confused expression plastered on his face. “Aren’t we supposed to close in like, an hour?” Chanyeol asks his dad in front of you.

“Just go cook, I'll explain later”.

The two men go back into the kitchen and Jungkook looks at you with an amused expression on his face. “What was that?” he laughs.

“I’m very popular, you know?” it probably wasn’t a good idea to go there, but you felt a little drunk on his voice that night, and you also knew your friend didn’t mind. “In fact, Chaereyong from ITZY is my best friend, who would have guessed?”

“Yeah and my son is her boyfriend, who cares?” Byung-ho yells back at you from the cashier, pulling a hiss from your lips. 

Jungkook still continued to stare at the both of you with confusion and intrigue, you guess he thought you were both joking.

“Wait, really?” he utters after a few seconds with big doe eyes and a pout on his lips, a combination that appeared when he was either confused or lying, which wasn’t the case then.

“Yes, my guy.” you laugh. “That juicy legged shortie is indeed my wife”

Jungkook loved the food, to say the least. It was all vegetarian and korean as fuck, a combination he never throught was possible, but downed like thristy camel. He was a loud eater, which was fitting of him and his politeness, something else you had noticed that night. You were the opposite, and actually despised the sounds of other people eating, yet, looking at him enjoying his meal so much made you feel full yourself. He made you feel like a kid in some ways too, brought back the times when being around others wasn’t so hard, and you still could have a sense of security around you. Talking to him was rather easy, maybe because of his welcoming nature, or because in fact he actually was interested in whatever stupid shit you were saying, something most people around you didn’t do. He also, amongst other things, seemed very interested in your job and the likes, always asking questions and absorbing information like a five year old. You had explained to him the five key steps of process design and the psychological effects on marketing in society to which he always responded with wide gentle eyes and attentive nods, not once looking bored or… annoyed in any way. 

Was he like that, with every girl? Because you weren’t anything special, there were many other girls who worked with him everyday and even if you hadn’t seen him in his work space, you could guess by the way most women in your company look at him whenever he passes by that either they were just as captivated as you by his beauty or that he had fucked them. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was just trying to get into your pants either, it wouldn’t be the first time it happened to you nonetheless.

“I can walk from here, JK” you mention once you found yourselves walking towards the parking lot. A bit sad about the expense you had just made on food, it was your fault for trying to seem cool and rich, neither of which you were. 

“Oh no, I’m not letting you do that, girlie” he unlocks the door and gets in, not even letting you finish or allowing you to fight back.

“My apartment is literally a block away” you protest in the car anyways. You fear you had been too much of a bother, and deep down, didn’t want him to feel like you were seeking his presence unnecessarily.

“Well, good for you. But, you paid for the food, which was a lot, and i don’t want my sugar mommy walking by herself at 12 pm on a friday night” you first freeze, and then burst a very loud giggle.

“Whatever” you slap his bicep and roll your eyes. “ Next time you can pay if it bothers you so much.”

“So there will be a next time?” wide eyes stare back at you. “Count me in. I´ll pick where we will be going, just lemme know when so i can plan ahead” he rambles, a little too excited about your suggestion. 

He drops you off with a smile on his face and hopefulness in his eyes, promising to see you around the company. You, on the other hand, feel a tad confused as you enter your apartment building. What was going on? 

You had overthought things so much your entire life that it suddenly became too tiring to do. During the past few years you had to learn how to detach yourself and just ride the wave sometimes. Once you had turned eighteen, everything started moving at a very fast pace, the pressure of adulthood fell upon you like a brick and everything was so overwhelming that you started to simply let the course of your existence take you wherever it needed to.

That’s how you ended up going out with Jungkook at least once a week for dinner or a drive around the city for more than two months. Without even noticing, he became so engraved in your everyday life that whenever he’d cancel plans because of work, you’d find yourself with a void in your heart and a rush of boredom filling your senses. Even if you found yourself in your living room with the company of your best friend whom you had seen at most four times in the past two months, you were still wishing you could share that intimate space with him instead, willing to let him a bit more into your life, in hopes that maybe he would do the same. Sue you, you were curious over the most intricate details about his personality, how his personal sanctuary looked and if the smell of his room is just as good as his car’s. You could bet a thousand dollars (maybe a little less, considering the unconventionalism that characterizes him) that he also had a few plants that only remembered to water three out of seven days of the week. 

Hopefully life would draw you closer to more people like him.

"How's your boyfriend doing?" Chaeryeong asks you from the kitchen counter, sweet popcorn cooking in you popcorn-maker. 

You sigh. "What boyfriend?"

She was a lot of things but oblivious, and you weren't either, just when you chose to be. "Cut the bullshit, you know who i'm talking about". The fake red head waits for your response as she pours the snack into a big bowl, and you on the other hand take this as an advange to search around the room for answers.

"He's just a friend" you say. "And he's fine, i guess… He doesn't really talk much about himself" you mention, matter of factly.

Chaeryeong nods beside you, understanding what you meant. Then, proceeds to tell a tale about her experience meeting the dark haired boy. "He's literally so quiet, but like, so incredibly kind. Once he tripped over and fucked up some of the decoration at an award show" she grabs a popcorn and continues her story. "He looked so panicked I thought his eyes were about to jump out their sockets — His eyes are huge, by the way." 

"I know" you smile.

"My point is, he started to help the staff put everything back in order again. I think he's the only idol I've ever seen do something like that… i decided i liked him then" her beautiful features light up with mischief. "I bet he fucks great too."

You slap her leg. Hard.

"I'm only telling you this now so you don't get caught of guard when he actually manages to fuck you," her soft hands run through your messy hair, motherly touches easing the fluster in your body. "You know he's a big whore, right?" She adds after a while. 

You didn't. According to Chaeryeong, who seemed to keep tabs on every single colleague of hers, Jungkook had quite the body count, not that you didn't have your suspicions before. Frankly, she only knew of two girls inside her company who had had some sort of situationship with him, but for the same reason, she also knew he had some history with other girls from different groups. "Yikes" you laugh nervously, in admiration of their ability to remain calm and collected without giving anything away to the public.

Thanks to your friend, you had heard lots of tea about other singers in the korean industry before, most of which were not as sweet or kind as they portrayed themselves to be, some even using their social status to get their way with girls. But for some reason, Jungkook had never made his way to your gossipping sessions, nor any other of his band mates (except for Jimin, who, if you remember correctly, used to have some sort of beef with one of Chaeryeong's company members). You guess it was because of his unproblematic nature that people chose to give him a pass for his sexual endeavors, not that they were of anyone's concern either. 

A knock is heard against your office door. "Miss _____?" A girl with a brown bob cut pokes her head through it, the dim lights of your office shining upon her incredibly healthy locks. "Jungkook asked me to deliver this to you" sliding completely into the room, she places a box with a note on it on your desk.

"Thank you so much" you wave her off as she walks right out. 

The package had a strawberry flavored canned tea and a bento box inside. 

"I remember you telling me you'd never tried tofu pancakes before, so I made some for you last night. Hope you enjoy! - JK

P.S. Text me when you're done, maybe we can hang out tonight."

You felt like crying, in all honesty. The pancakes were heavenly, and he even added some slices of avocado and a few scoops of rice for you, despite not being the biggest fan of the fruit himself. With a warm heart and relief washing over your body because you wouldn't have to waste money on lunch that day, you had had half of your meal before said boy gave you a call.

"Did you like them?" He said almost immediately. "My assistant told me she already delivered them to you" he adds in a rush.

"Jesus boy, calm down." You giggle at his excitement. "Let me eat in peace".

"No, tell me right now." he demands with a fake angry voice. Cutie.

"They're alright".

"Figured… you have no sense of taste anyways" the hangs up. A giggle escapes your lips. Boy was something else.

Later that day, the weekend started it's course. Jungkook had offered to drive you to the Han River, careful to mention the fact he prepared a bunch of snacks for you two just about five times during your call. The place was almost empty, given that the rest of the city was doing something else more fun than staring at the night sky while sitting on itchy grass. Yet, you wouldn't change the setting for anything else. Usually, when you and Jungkook were out, he'd be in silent wary of your surroundings and the people who could be watching you. It broke your heart, knowing that most of the time he couldn't frequent places most regular people had the pleasure of enjoying, like the movies, for example, or a food stand in the middle of the street. Still, in that moment, the handsome man in front of you seemed as relaxed as ever, munching on grapes and strawberries as he sat in silence beside you. 

"This blanket is so soft, isn't it?" he commented all of a sudden, caressing the fabric with his hand. The thing was made out of polar fleece, no shit. You just nodded and grabbed a piece of fruit from his container. "One of my friends gifted it to me on my birthday" he adds.

"I know. It was me".

"Well, maybe you do have a sense of taste after all" he complies as he lays down on the surface, eyes facing the night sky above you.

"Says the one who uses toe socks" you say back, poking his weak spot.

Instead of going back and forth with you as he usually would, he just winks and closes his eyes. He looked so peaceful and serene beneath you, features carefully carved on his face and slightly blushed cheeks from the cold wind. Jungkook was like that, randomly over confident and flirty with you, but just as quickly would refrain from even disagreeing with you in the first place, scared that you would snap at him. He hadn't told you this, but the way you saw thoughts hidden in his eyes whenever you made a statement let you know his true intentions, leaving you to wonder where that came from.

"Are you tired?" You ask after a few minutes. Still with his eyes closed, Jungkook denies.

"I just don't want to look at you right now," he turns to the side, back facing you as an offended expression finds its way to your face.

"Yah" you slap his back playfully, not letting him finish.

"Because you look too pretty." he mumbles the remnants of  his statement.

Your breath catches in your throat as a shiver climbs its way down your spine. Why was he like that? He had no right tugging on your heart strings like that (if he was being serious in the first place because you never knew with him). You sigh, the blush his words provoked stinging your cheeks.

"You're supposed to say I'm pretty too" he turns around with a playful smile, expectant.

"You just go around giving compliments so you can get them back?" you hiss. "Why so insecure?"

"I'm not insecure, at all." He sits up again, ready to fight you and anyone who dares question the grandiosity of the confidence he had worked so hard for. "You can ask Linh about that".

To say you looked horrified was an understatement, hopeful that what you thought he meant was not it. "You fucked Linh?"

"Well, that's not for you to know". 

What a gentleman, you think. And at the same time, ouch. He had just slammed a door on your face.

"That would explain the way she looks at you whenever you come by the office" you realize. Frankly, the girl looked a bit too panicked whenever Jungkook decided to barge into your space, usually bored out of his mind during his english lessons, laptop and notebook in hand, or struggling to get the questions right. 

"Well good afternoon to you too" you ironically greeted once he sat in front of you, frustration written on his face. Linh, who stood by your side, suddenly fidgeting with the papers in her hand.

"Not the time, _____" he slammed both hands on your desk, startling you and your friend beside you. "Why the fuck did you make me enroll into this in the first place?" 

"I did not make you do anything, dude. I just gave you an idea" you excused yourself, eyes back on your computer. You didn't miss the way Jungkook's eyes briefly followed Linh out the room, though. 

His eyes looked back at you, leg bouncing impatiently on the floor as he leaned back with a pissed off expression on his face. You'd never seen him this way, so you took that as a cue to enter under paid therapist mode. "What's wrong?" You questioned gently.

"I feel incredibly incompetent right now." His hands roamed across his face with frustration. A sigh escaped his lips as he held tears back. "School's always been this way for me, always trying my best and constantly underachieving" he explained.

He was obsessed with winning, you’d even go as far to say more than he was with his job (which was a lot). It didn’t root from narcissistic behaviour though, but rather out of external pressure to constantly overachieve and exceed expectations. He was mostly good at doing that, but everyone had an achilles heel, yours was reading for example, his was studying and school.

"Jungkook, you passed most of your classes with more than 90%, what are you talking about?" a fact he had brought up to you randomly when you mentioned absolutely nearly failing most of your literature classes.

"Yeah, except for English." he shook his head in the way he would when he'd feel conflicted or insecure. "I don't know what i'm doing wrong".

"Did you fail something?" you tried to get some more insight into the situation, still unsure of where all his worries came from.

"No, there's just this sentence I can't properly put together" he turned his notebook towards you. "Ah, just look"

There were some words he had to conjugate and properly place in order to form a grammatically correct sentence, more than five attempts written in neat penmanship on the page evidenced the boy's battle with the assignment. He missed one very important aspect of it, though. "There's a fucking word that's missing, dude" you explain, grabbing the pen from his hand and showing him where the mistake was. "It's not your fault, it's the teacher's".

Jungkook's serious expression didn't go away though. "Well, damn".

You had some sort of emotional trauma with having people ask you for help, it made you think that they didn’t actually care for you as a person but rather just your skills. That was the way you’d grown up and what your position in society seemed to be as well, the one you could butter up and taste when you got bored. Heart had been broken many times too, whenever you’d realize what you thought to be a genuine connection was merely pure interest. Those thoughts clouded your head when Jungkook would randomly enter your office with a frustrated expression on his face, yet, that occurred less often than it didn’t. 

Jungkook was not someone to establish relationships and bonds out of interest, you knew that. Or maybe not, truth be told, he was an authentic enigma, so open yet so closed and shielded from others to see through, and that didn’t exclude you most of the time, hence your wish for him to let you in a bit more before you could allow yourself to free fall into whatever was going on between you both.

You reach for the fabric of his hoodie, tugging his sleeve with your fingers just because you really liked the color of it, and maybe because you wanted to feel closer to him. He doesn’t react to your touch, just looks at your hands briefly as they play with the edges of his clothing. “Where did you get this from?”

“An online store, I think.” he replies softly, reaching for your hand on his arm, caressing the surface of your nails. “It’s a unisex brand, i can send you their link afterwards.”

“Is it too expensive?” you inquire, not only to keep the moment afloat, but because you genuinely liked most of his pieces of clothing, especially his hoodies and shoes. Jungkook laughs at your question and looks at you with a smile.

“I don’t think i would know, ____. I’m rich.” he says, playfully. And he was right, what was expensive for you might just be cheap as fuck for him, you wonder if when a lot of money is in your hands you start to become very tuned out from what’s affordable or not anymore.

“True.”

“I can buy you one, though. I don’t mind.” he adds. Soft look in his eyes, a pure and genuine offer that you had to deny.

“I didn’t say i wanted one” you lie, only partially, because although you’d not mentioned it, you did actually want it. “I just think it’s pretty” you finally let go of him.

“Or do you think I look pretty in it?” he pushes, a sucker for compliments.

“Yeah, that might be it.” you admit, because there was no point in denying your irrefutable attraction to the man, as much as you hated to be vulnerable, especially in front of him.

“I think it would look prettier on you”.

Don´t copy or repost please. by studiojeon on tumblr.