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lesbeet · 5 years ago

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not to be a nerd but i accidentally just wrote a whole impromptu essay about editing ndjsdksksk im throwing it under a cut bc it's fucking inane and really long but honestly... i just want other people to become as passionate about editing as i am lmaooooo

i also recommend 2 books in the post so if anything at least check those out!

quality books about editing... *chef's kiss* a lot of the basic ones (including blog posts online n such) are geared towards beginners and end up repeating the same info/advice, much of it either oversimplified or misrepresented tbh. but i read one yesterday and i'm reading another one right now that really convey this passion for editing + consideration for it as its own sort of art and i just!!

it's such a weird thing to be passionate about lmao but i AM and i've spent a lot of time the past year or so consciously honing my craft (ik i mention this like 4 times a week i'm just really proud of how much i've learned and improved) and kind of like. solidifying my instincts into conscious choices i guess?

and these GOOD editing books have both a) taught me new information and/or presented familiar information through a new perspective that helped me understand something differently or in more depth, and b) validated or even just put into words certain preferences or techniques that i've developed on my own, that i don't normally see on those more basic lists i mentioned

btw the book i finished yesterday is self-editing for fiction writers: how to edit yourself into print by renni brown and dave king, and the one i'm reading currently is the artful edit: on the practice of editing yourself by susan bell.

the former was pretty sharp and straightforward. the authors demonstrated some of their points directly in the text, which was usually funny enough that i would show certain quotes to my sister without context

("Just think about how much power a single obscenity can have if it’s the only one in the whole fucking book." <- (it was)

"Frequent italics have come to signal weak writing. So you should never resort to them unless they are the only practical choice, as with the kind of self-conscious internal dialogue shown above or an occasional emphasis."

or, my favorite: "There are a few stylistic devices that are so “tacky” they should be used very sparingly, if at all. First on the list is emphasis quotes, as in the quotes around the word “tacky” in the preceding sentence. The only time you need to use them is to show you are referring to the word itself, as in the quotes around the word “tacky” in the preceding sentence. Read it again; it all makes sense.")

and like i said, i also learned some new ideas or techniques (or they articulated vague ideas i already had but struggled to put into practice), AND they mentioned some suggestions that ive literally never seen anyone else bring up (not to say no one has! just that ive never seen it, and ive seen a lot in terms of writing tips, advice, best practices, etc) that ive already sort of established in my own writing

for example they went into pretty fine detail about dialogue mechanics, more than i usually see, and in talking about the pacing and proportion of "beats" and dialogue in a given scene, they explicitly suggested that, if a character speaks more than a sentence or two and you plan on giving them some sort of dialogue tag or an action to perform as a beat, the tag or action should be placed at one of the earliest (if not the first) natural pauses in the dialogue, so as not to distance the character too far from the dialogue -- bc otherwise the reader ends up getting all of the dialogue information first, and then has to go back and retroactively insert the character, or what they're doing, or the way they look/sound while they're giving their little speech

and like this was something ive figured out on my own, mostly bc it jarred me out of something i was reading enough times (probably in fic tbh) that i started noticing it, and realized that it's something i do naturally, kind of to anchor the character to the dialogue mechanic to make sure it makes sense with the actual dialogue

so like. ok here's an example i just randomly pulled from the song of achilles (it was available on scribd so i just looked for a spot that worked to illustrate my point djsmsks)

the actual quote is written effectively, but here's a less effective version first:

“Perhaps I would, but I see no reason to kill him. He’s done nothing to me," Achilles answered coolly.

see and even with such a short snippet it's so much smoother and more vivid just by moving the dialogue tag, not adding or cutting a word:

“Perhaps I would, but I see no reason to kill him.” Achilles answered coolly. “He’s done nothing to me.”

the rhythm of it is better, and the beat that the dialogue tag creates functions as a natural dramatic pause before achilles delivers an incredibly poignant line, both within the immediate context of the scene and because we as the readers can recognize it as foreshadowing. plus, it flows smoothly because that beat was inserted where the dialogue already contained a natural pause, just bc that's how people speak. if you read both versions aloud, they both make sense, but the second version (the original used in the novel) accounts for the rhythm of dialogue, the way people tend to process information as they read, AND the greater context of the story, and as a result packs significantly more purpose, information, and effect into the same exact set of words

and THAT, folks, is the kind of editing minutia i can literally sit and hyperfocus on for hours without noticing. anyway it's a good book lmao

the one i'm reading now is a lot more about the cognitive process/es of editing, so there's less concrete and specific advice (so far, anyway) and more discussion about different mental approaches to editing, as well as tips and tools for making a firm distinction between your writer brain and your editor brain, which is something i struggle with

but there have been so many good quotes that ive highlighted! a lot of just like. reminders and things to think about, and also just lovely articulations of things id thought of or come to understand in much more vague ways.

scribd won't let me copy/paste this one bc it's a document copy and not an actual ebook, but this passage is talking about how the simple act of showing a piece of writing to someone else for the very first time can spark a sudden shift in perspective on the work, bc you'll (or at least i) frantically try to re-read it through their eyes and end up noticing a bunch of new errors -

or she talked about the perils of constant re-reading in the middle of writing a draft, which is something i struggle with a LOT, both bc i'm a perfectionist and bc i prefer editing to writing so i sit and edit when i'm procrastinating doing the actual hard work of writing lmao

it's just this side of fake deep tbh but i so rarely see editing discussed like this--as a mixture of art and science, a collaboration between instinct and technique, that really requires "both sides of the brain" to be done well.

and because of the way my own brain works, activities that require such a balanced concentration of creativity and logic really appeal to me. even though ive seen a lot of people (even professional writers) who frame it as the creative art of writing vs the logical discipline of editing. but i think that's such a misleading way of thinking about it, because writing and editing both require creativity and logic -- just different kinds! (not to mention that the line between writing and editing, while mostly clear, can get a little blurry from up close)

but like...all stories have an inner logic to them, even if the writer hasn't explicitly or consciously planned it, and even if the logic is faulty in places in the first couple of drafts. when you're sitting and daydreaming about your story, especially if you're trying to figure out how to bridge the gap between two points or scenes (or, how to write a sequence of events that presents as a logical, inevitable progression of cause and effect), the voice in your head that evaluates an idea and decides to 1) go with it, 2) scrap it, 3) tweak it until it works, or 4) hold onto it in case you want it later? that's your logic! if an idea feels wrong, or like it just doesn't work, it's probably because some part of you is detecting a conflict between some part of the idea and the overall logic of your story. every decision you make as you write is formed by and checked against your own experiential logic, and also by the internal logic of your story, which is far less developed (or at least, one would hope), and therefore more prone to the occasional laspe

but while ive seen a number of articles that discuss the logic of writing, i don't see people gushing as much about the art of editing and it's such a shame

the inner editor is so often characterized as the responsible parent to the writer's carefree child, or a relentless critic of the writer's unselfconscious, unpolished drivel

and it's like... maybe you just hate thinking critically about your work! maybe you view it that way because you're imposing external standards too fiercely onto your writing, and it's sucked the joy out of shaping and sculpting your words until they sing. maybe you prefer to conceive of your writing as divine communication, the process of which must remain unencumbered by lessons learned through experience or the vulnerability of self-reflection, until the buzzkill inner editor shows up with all those "rules" and "conventions" that only matter if you're trying to get published

and like obviously the market doesn't dictate which conventions are worth following, but the majority of widely-agreed-upon writing standards, especially those aimed at beginners, (and most especially those regarding style, as opposed to story structure) have to do with the effectiveness and efficiency of prose, and, in addition to often serving as a shorthand for distinguishing an amateur from a pro, overall help to increase poignancy and clarity, which is crucial no matter the genre or type of writing. and even if you personally believe otherwise, it's better to understand the conventions so you can break them with real purpose.

so editing shouldn't be about trying to shove your pristine artistic masterpiece into a conventional mold, it should be about using the creative instincts of your ear and your logic and experience-based understanding of writing as a craft to hone your words until you've told your story as effectively as possible

thank u for coming to my ted talk ✌️

#long post //#editing #wref #sefa rambles

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unsurepotatohooman · 5 years ago

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The Perfect Color

Fandom : TS Sides

Characters : Patton, Logan (Roman and Virgil are mentioned like once)

Genre : Fluff :))

Warnings : None

Word Count : 1884

Summary : Logan loves poetry, and Patton loves Logan. The moral side decides to mix the two.

A/N : I finally finished this story! It took about two hours to write after procrastinating for two and a half weeks and then I edited it a lil. I specifically wrote this fic for @dragonsaphirareads writing contest (who y’all should totally check out btw if you haven’t already). The song used is “Perfect Color” by SafteySuit which I happened to come across not too long ago and I loved it! It sounded so much like Patton so I had to give this a try!! Anyways, enough rambling. I hope you guys enjoy!

Work:

Patton gripped the paper in his hands as he made his way down the hall. He tried his best to keep from shaking but nerves were getting the best of him.

Everyone who knows Logan knows he loves poetry, but you would never know truly how much unless you paid attention. Patton always paid attention. He would observe Logan’s eyes and the way they sparkle like the stars. He would listen to the sound of Logan’s voice as his eyes scanned a particularly interesting piece, and he could hear the wall that Logan held his emotions behind break a little. He would giggle at the tone of Logan’s voice when he would assure Patton that he never sings, and that he only reads the poems. Though, he has rapped to Patton a few times on occasion before and after the video where he battles against Roman. Finally, Patton’s heart would swell as he saw the small smile adorn Logan’s features as he shared something so close with him to Patton, and the proud face he wore when Patton would reference something about poetry. Every time Patton got Logan to talk about poems, he would fall even harder for him.

This is why he decided to ask Logan for poetry lessons. They would visit the class room in Logan’s dream space and would write for hours every Sunday afternoon. Patton took a little while to catch on, and Logan got a little frustrated, but lesson after lesson Patton was finally understanding the concept of it, and had even written a few practice pieces for Logan. Logan was always pleased with Patton’s willingness to learn, and Patton found himself wishing the week away so he could see that smile on Logan’s face again.

It had been about four months since they had started those poetry sessions, and Patton finally admitted to himself that he had feelings for a certain tie-clad side. After a lengthy conversation with Roman, and another conversation with Virgil to help filter out the more... “extreme” suggestions from the creative side, Patton was ready to finally read his secret poem to Logan. He had begun writing it at about their third month in, and finally finished it last week. It took a whole week for him to work up the courage to even mention it to the logical side.

Patton walked up to the indigo colored door and eyed it with a timid expression. He closed his eyes, took a few deep breaths and tried to imagine that the situation wasn’t as intimidating as it seemed. Finally, he opened his eyes and knocked as cheerily as he could before he could put this off any longer.

There were a few long strides from inside the room. Patton heard a lock click and the door slid open to reveal Logan, standing with his usual attire.

“Good afternoon, Patton.”

“Hey Lo lo!” Patton said happily even as the nerves were tearing him up from the inside.

Logan raised an eyebrow at the high pitch in Patton’s voice, but moved aside nonetheless.

“Actually Logan,” Patton started, “I was wondering if you could join me in my dreams space for this lesson.”

Logan gave Patton a skeptic look. “I don’t believe that will be a problem. Give me just a moment.” Logan walked back into his room and returned with a few notebooks and a journal full of his own poems.

“Oh!” Patton exclaimed, “You won’t need those. I’ve got us covered for today.”

“Oh?” Logan questioned, and Patton nodded.

“Yeah, I’ve got it! Don’t you sweat it!”

Logan looked down to his books and back to Patton. “Alright, I trust you Patton.” He then walked back in his room, placed the books down and joined Patton back in the hall.

“Ready?” Patton asked as Logan closed the door firmly behind him.

“Certainly.”

Patton took Logan’s hand and tried to ignore the color growing in his face. The two sunk down together and reappeared in Patton’s dream space, which at the moment, was pitch black.

“I must ask,” Logan started. “Why the sudden change? I know that change tends to not sit very well with you sometimes.”

“I just needed to try something new.” Patton smiled. He took his hand back from Logan, which helped his face to cool down, before snapping his fingers.

In an instant, the whole room around them began to change. Trees merged in from the darkness. In the branches there were fairy lights similar to the ones in Patton’s room. Their shoes disappeared revealing the ground underneath them as it turned to grass with various shades of different color flowers. Patton’s usual fatherly attire changed to a light blue, knee length dress. The rainbow trim matched the many different colored flowers in his flower crown. Logan had also gained a flower crown too of the same kind. Patton couldn’t help but feel a little self conscious when he saw color come to the logical side's face.

“P-patton, what’s going on?” Logan stuttered.

The moral side took a deep breath as he calmed the last bit of anxiety before finally speaking up. “I want to read you a poem.”

Logan had an intrigued but confused look on his reddening face. “You do?”

“Mhm.” Patton hummed, taking Logan’s hands again, “But I have to sing it to you.”

Logan didn’t even sigh at the fact that he was going to listen to another song, which Patton took as his que to begin. Music came from a record player that spawned near the tree line on the edge of the clearing as Patton began to sing.

Yellow nice to meet you

Do you know that you just blue my mind?

It was the perfect conversation, I think that I red about one time

I told a white lie when I told you, I’ve never been green with envy you,

You are the perfect color

Logan rolled his eyes at the very obvious word play, but immediately stopped when Patton pulled Logan to him and began to dance. The moral side’s voice filled the air as he led Logan through the flowy movements as they followed the song.

Ooh, ooh, ooh

The two sides spun around awkwardly, slowly sinking more and more into the music. Patton and Logan’s faces were both bright red as Patton moved into the verse.

To the misfit and the freaks,

To the outcasts and the geeks,

To the weird kids that don’t care

Cause you feel like you’re not there

To the ones who won’t look in

To the mirror because you’re scared

Don’t let the haters hate become your own, oh, no, no

The logical side focused on the lyrics as he looked down at their feet. Patton knew that Logan, like everyone else at some point in their life, had struggled with being the odd one out. With being the weird, nerd character in Thomas’ videos. Just like everyone else, Logan struggled with his own image and feelings on a daily basis. Patton knew he did even though it was difficult for many to see through Logan’s walls.

Now there is going to always be someone who thinks that art has no meaning

Who looks up at the Sistine Chapel and only sees a ceiling

But you, you you

Well you know what I would say to you?

You know what I would say to you?

Logan met Patton’s eyes as the moral side’s voice grew stronger with the emotion of the song. Their feet swept across the blades of grass as Patton led them along a little faster.

Yellow nice to meet you

Do you know that you just blue my mind?

It was the perfect conversation, I think that I red about one time

I told a white lie when I told you, I’ve never been green with envy you,

You are the perfect color

Their gaze broke as Patton’s face melted into a mischievous smile. Before Logan knew it, he was being twirled around by Patton.

Ooh, ooh, ooh

Patton pulled Logan back to himself allowing a small giggle to escape his lips during a pause in lyrics. Logan looked at him with wide eyes, but he didn’t say anything. The moral side took Logan by both of his hands and pulled back as he looked him in the eyes.

And in a perfect world

I’d get to say

It’s just black and white

There’s no room for grey

And there’s a color scheme inside every heart

Ours won’t be complete until we have yours

So yellow nice to meet you

Patton’s volume rose before falling into almost a soft whisper as he pulled Logan back in and the two began to slow dance, rocking side to side. The flowers in their crowns brightened as the song went on, the music fuling their vibrant shades.

Yellow nice to meet you

Do you know that you just blue my mind?

It was the perfect conversation, I think that I red about one time

I told a white lie when I told you, I’ve never been green with envy you,

You are the perfect color

Ooh, ooh, ooh

The music came back in full force, Patton’s voice rising back up with the volume as he poured his heart and soul out to the man he was holding and who was holding him.

Yellow nice to meet you

Do you know that you just blue my mind?

It was the perfect conversation, I think that I red about one time

I told a white lie when I told you, I’ve never been green with envy you,

You are the perfect color

Ooh, ooh, ooh

As the song came to a close, Logan spun Patton around before bringing the shorter of the two back in. Both of them were out of breath after all of the movement. The air filled with their breathless laughter as they clung to each other's arms. They slow danced for a while, even as the song faded out leaving them with the chirping of crickets and a light, blowing breeze.

“Logan?” Patton finally broke the silence.

“Hm?” Logan hummed, his eyes flickering to Patton as the moral side pulled away to look him in the face.

“I love you, so much. I had no idea how else to tell you.” He smiled sheepishly. “What do you think?”

Logan smiled. He smiled that smile that Patton loved so much that was reserved for the precious things in Logan’s life. The look that the taller of the two repressed to keep up his serious persona. He let down his walls to Patton, and Patton couldn’t ask for anything more as the words left Logan’s lips.

“I think we do make the perfect color.”

They pulled each other close and met in the middle as their lips touched. It was short and new but still filled with so much anxious passion that got both of their thoughts across quickly. When they pulled away, Patton burrowed into Logan’s chest as the two hugged, swaying from side to side as they enjoyed the last few moments of their Sunday afternoon together.

It’s safe to say that this became their new spot for their poetry meets.

#ts sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #logic sanders #morality sanders #creativity sanders #anxiety sanders #romantic logicality #logicality #perfect color #SafteySuit #writing contest #potatohoomanwrites

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mappinglasirena · 5 years ago

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Mapping La Sirena

Welcome one and all to the Mapping La Sirena Project!

If you are a fan of Star Trek: Picard and you would like to know more about the show’s most prominent ship, to check out floor plans and screencaps, and to discuss theories about the layout of this magnificent vessel, this is will be the place for you!

(Long, slightly rambly introduction and masterpost after the cut ;] )

Hi! My name is Lili and I’ve been a fan of pretty much all things Star Trek ever since I started watching Voyager at the tender age of 6. Besides the sometimes goofy, often brilliant storytelling and the wonderful characters, I always loved the worldbuilding of these shows - and in particularly the starships.

When Star Trek: Picard started airing a few months ago, I was immediately drawn to the main ship, La Sirena. The mixture of the monumental physical set, judiciously used CGI, and sheer attention to detail made me fall madly in love with this little mermaid, and I wanted to find out every little thing about her that I possibly could. And since I imagine, I’m not the only one who feels this way, I decided to take you all on this journey with me!

What am I doing here?

As a reader and writer of fanfic, I know how helpful it can be to have a clear sense of the location your story is set in. When I realized that a good month after the final episode of ST:PIC season one aired, there still was no floor plan of La Sirena easily found on the web (easily = using my very limited googling-skills), I figured somebody had to sit down and do it. And apparently, that somebody was me. (May the gods help us all =D)

So, I sat myself down, and over the course of a few long days screencapped every single last scrap of Sirena that appears on the show. I now have a library of reference images and will post my progress as I work through them, trying to determine questions about the general layout of this ship, the details of its architecture and furnishings and all the questions that still remain. By the end of it, I am pretty confident that I will have a mostly accurate floorplan of the set that was used on the show (at least the parts of it that were shown to us thus far). We might even end up with the basis for a plan of the ship as it would exist in-universe (more on the movie set vs. “real place” issue later).

The following soon-to-be-links might give you an idea of what I plan to post over the next few months and I’ll keep adding links to this post as I go. So, without (even more) ado: Have fun exploring La Sirena!

Schematics & Floor Plans

A very crude first sketch

Official Set plan

We finally have an official set plan from the Ready Room!

A First Deeper Look at the Ready Room set plans

Centred Floor Plans from Set Me Up + cross section & more designs

Layout of the Captain’s Quarters

Shape and size

How large is La Sirena as seen on the show and is she larger on the inside?

Upper Deck

The Bridge

Where is the Holodeck?

Picard’s Study

Transporter Pad and Engine

The Trouble with Locating the Quarters/Conference Room

Crew Quarters

Captain’s Quarters

A closer Look at the windows

Conference room

The Mysterious Back End of the Ship

Crates, Tanks, Boxes, and Miscellania

Lower Deck

The Mess

Sickbay: Pt. 1: Size and Construction; Pt. 2: Furniture

So Many Nets

The Wall Problem, aka. Mysterious Nonexistent Corridors

Cargo Bay and other Speculative Spaces

Is there a dedicated cargo bay at the back of the ship?

Where are the rest of the crew quarters hidden?

Overall Design and Technological Aspects

A quick rundown of the Engine placement and history

Some Considerations

Tv Set vs . Starship

The set of La Sirena is just that, a tv set. When building a set, there are many constraints of time, budget, and practicality that will force the creatives to make decisions that will not always make sense when mapped onto a “real” starship. Take, for example, the fact that the Captain’s Quarters and the Conference Room were likely filmed in the same physical set, just redressed for the occasion.

Of course, there can always be Watsonian explanations for these kinds of incongruities and I’d love to hear people’s takes or read fics about them (after all, the entirety of La Sirena is apparently equipped with holoemitters, so I suppose technically, anything is possible).

But I am sticking with the Doylian “it’s a movie set” approach and will generally ignore these kinds of problems when trying to draft an in-universe-accurate floorplan of what we can know of the ship so far. I will be very diligent about pointing out whenever I handwave anything, though, so if you want to stick as closely to what we actually see on the whoe, you’ll know which parts of my analysis/headcanon to disregard ;)

Questions about “silly little details”

I have spend a ridiculous amount of time on this little project so far and in the course of it have gotten pretty familiar with a lot of aspects of the interior and exterior of this amazing starship. If you have any questions regarding details about what we can see of La Sirena on the show, please ask me and I will do my best to help! I absolutely love digging into the really nitpicky, tiny little scraps of information, and at this point, I can probably tell you straight away which scene might provide the info you’re looking for or whether there likely is no answer and you’ll have to get creative. So if you don’t feel like scrubbing through the entire 10 episodes of Picard to find out, say, the colour of the plates produced by Sirena’s replicators, please shoot me an ask, I’m always utterly delighted to help! (They’re white, btw.)

And just to make clear what I mean by “tiny little details”: in the course of writing some of my stories, I have collected answers to such important questions as

On which side of the desk does Rios have his chair? (Both)

How many cups are on the shelf next to the replicators? (4, even when one of them is currently in use)

Could a football roll under the railing on the upper deck and fall down into the mess hall anywhere but where the stairs go down? (No, there is a raised edge all around the rim that would catch it. Bouncing would work, though, since the space between the railing bars is large enough.)

Could I just say “Fuck it, I’ll just write it however, because it really doesn’t matter at all?” Yes. Would it be better for my sanity? Probably. Will I still keep trying to figure out as much about this crazy little ship as I possibly can at every turn? You betcha! So, no question is too silly, please ask away!!

A Quick Thought on Fanfic and “Accuracy”

This whole project started because whenever I write fanfic or make up stories set on La Sirena, my brain keeps insisting that we need to know which side of the mess hall the replicators are on! We need to know where exactly the holodeck is located and whether a football could fall to the lower deck through the railing. I would never hold anyone to these standards of “accuracy” - in fact I frequently don’t hold myself to these standards. Fic is for creative expression, so if in your imagination, La Sirena is twice the size of what we see in the show and has a ton of additional rooms and features, I would love to read that story! I want to create a resource for anyone looking for Sirena references to get inspired, not to point out inconsistencies or canon-divergence in lovingly created fanworks. I hope it comes across that way =)

#star trek picard #la sirena #about the project #cristobal rios #aramis in space

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ghostly-thorn · 5 years ago

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Behind The Writing - 4 - The Turrfield Gym - Uplifting Roots

🎵 A bit of Ambiance 🎵

Greetings everyone !

Coming faster than expected is this 4th Chapter. Zera takes on her very first Gym battle and I was excited as hell to write it, though I’ve had some difficulty timing everything right... I’ll explain more later on.

I hope this hasn’t decreased in quality since I (kinda) forced myself to write. For those who don’t know, my deployment in an old people’s home is coming to an end. By the 22th of May i’ll have a free week, before returning to the hospital for a 6-week internship. During that “free” week I’ll have to work on an 8-page essay to validate my semester. It’s fine on its own, the issue I have though is that I have to surrender it by June the 12th, right in the middle of my internship. I didn’t want to keep you waiting so long (considering I’ve gained such a fanbase, THANK YOU!) so I figured I should post it this weekend, come what may!!!

And here we are now. Without further do, let’s dive into this 4th BTW. Did you pick on my every references? We’ll see about that!

Starting off strongly with a hint at Rose’s true nature. I mentioned in the text that he used to be a miner. Bells would rung as he was heading to work to die a little more everyday. They were said to protect their miners, but failed to do so with Rose. I will say nothing else, just know I don’t leave stones unturned. So here’s a commission I’ve ordered from hx.storia. The title of the track that goes with this art is Artorias’ theme from Dark Souls. The rest is up to you my friends...

Our future Champion, so graceful in her sleep...

For those who haven’t seen it yet, I’ve made a post about Voice Headcanons for SwSh. In it, Milo is dubbed by Nial Horan, an irish actor. Now I know Isle of Armor is supposed to be Ireland... Or is it Scotland? I don’t remember. Either way! It’s my Fic and I’m free to do whatever I want. No, that sounded awful. Aaaaanyway. Milo is Irish and I tried my best to depict that in this Chapter, though I’m not native so it was hard at times. All of this to say that Hop tried imitating the Gym Leader. “Top of the morning” is even an irish greeting. And believe me, I’ve looked a lot of slang for this Chapter!... *sighs* the things I would do for you...

I changed a bit the texting format for this chapter as when I’ve re-read Castling I felt like something was off. Now Zera’s texts will be located on the right, whereas any recipient will be on the left. Basically, like a real phone. Also, if there are several ✉ on different lines, it means that the people is spamming. I hope this was clear enough for you on your first read.

Raihan is such a jerk... But we love him nonetheless. Blackmailing poor Zee like that... unfair. But at the same time, this marks the beginning of their relationship and BOY, do I reserve some fluff for you

In the meantime, Zera will be flushed at Raihan’s every flirt attempt. Still, she’ll resist... for now

Zera may have inherited her mother’s purple eyes and white complexion, but she did get her hair from her Father. As mentioned in another BTW, Rose comes from india where most people have straight silky hair.

Here’s another commission from the incredible M0nomercy. This will be Zera’s look for the rest of the Challenge. Make sure you remember it

I mentioned Tesco in the text. I don’t live in the UK, but apparently it’s like the local groceries store. And since I’m writing a realistic fanfic, well here it is. I’ve been to London quite a few times but I’ve never seen any, I was mostly going to Boots

I wanted to make Scorbunny evolve before he reached Turrfield. However I wasn’t planning on letting Zera rest on her laurels. Because I hate Mary Sues I try to complicate my OC’s life as much as I can. Therefore I’ve had Raboot flee into the wild.

That is the reason why I’ve had Raboot behave like an angsty teen. I haven’t watched the new anime yet. At least, like any decent fangirl I just watched the Leon and Gengar Episodes, but from the GIFs I’ve seen Gou’s Raboot is pretty much the same

The idea for the kick in Hop’s face came from this extract of Bleach, an anime you must watch. The characters are Hiyori Sarugaki (the girl) and Urahara Kisuke.

Rose came from India at a very young age. Makes sense that he would bring his own values with him, amongst them, karma.

He played the drama queen by saying he was unable to breathe and needed mouth-to-mouth, but you swiftly put him back in his place with a slap.

- “Ow!... I'm not sure that's how you treat people, Zee...”

As a Nurse I can certify. That is how we treat people

Here is best boy’s League card. Must protecc. and also the caption that reads on it

This Pokémon Trainer got endorsed to take part in the Gym Challenge by his brother—the reigning Champion, Leon. Hop claims to have watched all Leon's matches. Commentators speculate that as a result, he might be quite the force to be reckoned with. The Champion himself has said that his brother has potential, but his carefully hoarded knowledge can go to waste as he tends to get easily flustered in battle. It's said that Hop's partner Wooloo is a great help to him both in battle and with chores around the house.

I like to think that the Gym Challenger have specialty on their medias. Like their League Cards are numerically available on their Instagram, Facebook, Twitter and so on.

Here’s Haunter being a good boy and clapping whenever he’s happy.

All the opponent on Route 3 are the same as in the game. Even the Pokémons Zera encountered.

- “I don't care! You hurt my girlfriend and now you're gonna get bruised” (He screamed, trying to sound as menacing as a 5-year-old could be…)

You and Haunter exchanged a shocked look before bursting out in laughter, to the dismay of the boy who just wanted to be respected.

If you guessed this was a reference to the Shrek and Donkey laughing meme, well you guessed right

It could not resist commenting on all the encounters you had with wild Pokémon. Even to the extent of learning your reactions to evade your hands when it left your pocket. It was learning...

Rose’s influence throughout the country was compared to a Tentacruel’s arms. A fitting metaphor I believe. The GIF is from James Bond’s Spectre opening that you can find here. Eva Green. Mention of ghosts and unreachable tyrans? Sounds familiar...

Haunter floated above you and pretended to squint, crossing his hands like Aladdin's genie.

Can you see it? Can you see it?! I CAN! genie!Haunter is canon, fight me

If Haunter is the genie, then Raboot is Puss in boots

A woman stopped you on the way, just as massive as the previous one. She reminded you of a character from one of your favourite TV shows...

Please tell me I’m not the only one who thought of Briene of Tarth when I saw the female!Worker

Haunter after missing all his attack on Digglet

- “I can see how you made it this far” (The beastly woman spoke) “Though I must urge you to leave as soon as you can. This is no place for children”

- “Ch-Children?” (You blew a fuse and your eyes started twitching)

Brienne!Worker urging Teen!Zera to leave the mines 👀

As if by magic, the young man sensed your presence, or perhaps that of your ghostly partner, since he was a Psychic-type Trainer: a kind of human Anticipation.

Anticipation is an ability that senses the foe’s dangerous moves. Here I insinuate that Bede has the same ability since he instantly senses your presence

Bede has been adopted by the Chairman a few years ago. He would do anything to please his foster father, much like Oleana does. You’ll see that in the next Chapter “Deceiving Waters”. That is the reason why he gets so triggered when Zera mocks Rose.

I’m sorry. But Gothita looks so fucking silly... Her whole line is fucked

- “Don’t grow over your head twat. I’m just giving your Pokémon a little chance to shine, that’s all”

Then all of a sudden, a wave of calm washed over him, putting out the fire that burned inside him. He looked much more civil now.

- “Oh dear, what have I been doing? Well, whatever. Let us just get this over with”

You had totally wrecked him, yet after the utter shock cleared out he still found the courage to sound smug. He seemed to boil from inside, before throwing his head to the side and raising his fist in a clench

- “I see… Well that’s fine. I wasn’t really trying all that hard anyway”

I hoped you enjoyed Milo’s first introduction. I sure did. As I’ve mentioned before, he’s irish in here and uses quite a lot of slang (I’ve had to research for your greatest pleasure). I’m going to make a list of all the terms he’s been using and their meanings

Sham ⌦ Friend

Bang on ⌦ Right, accurate, correct

Banjaxed ⌦ to break sth, broken

Culchie ⌦ Person from rural / agricultural area

Away on ⌦ an expression of surprise

“You know it already, but my name’s Milo”

“Y-yeah…” (You muttered as he kept awkwardly shaking your hand) “You’re quite famous”

“Think so? I do not think much of myself to be honest. I’m good with raising me pokes’ in peace”

“Sounds like the best life”

“It’s a peaceful life” (He retorted in a childish grin)

Already he was shielding his face from a possible blow, yet you restrained yourself.

Afterwards you settled down on the terrace of a bar - the only one in town - to enjoy a coffee. As expected, the locals were very friendly with you, even as to serve you a second and third shot on the house.

Them Turrfy people... such good lads...

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the most gracious Pokémon Arceus has graced us with. Yamper is a good boy. No... he’s the goodest boy.

There she was, leaning against one of the railings encircling the platform. Her ginger hair was rippling under the late afternoon summer breeze. Seen like this, she looked frightfully pretty, which could only infuriate you.

- “Seems likely. It certainly looks like a gigantic Pokémon” (Sonia confirmed your theory before sighing) “I suppose people 1000 years ago could not just have imagined this, but it looks too similar to Dynamax. It can’t just be coincidence”

So in the game Sonia says 3000 ago, but I reduced it to 1000. Surely you know why...

She drew a sigh and hopped off the ledge, pacing back and forth while fiddling her hair in a familiar manner.

- “Guess I’m the lucky lady who’ll be lookin’ into that. Gran sure gives me a lot to do”

Milo’s League Card and caption

This Trainer was born as the son of farmers. He has honed his strength, stamina, and skill as a Pokémon Trainer from a young age by working together with his Pokémon. Because of his gentle nature, he has trouble going all out on weaker opponents, which is why his Gym is the first one for challengers to attempt during the Gym Challenge. He always wears his boots, as apparently they let him dig in his heels when he needs to.

As for Mareanie, she could not get a state-of-the-art bathtub this time, so you made do with it and descended to the reception desk to ask for a bucket. Surprisingly, they handed you one quite easily, claiming that during St-Patrick those buckets fulfilled another use… you were now looking at it with disgust.

Yeah you guessed it right. It’s used to collect people’s vomit.

You bounced out of bed, crashing to the ground two meters below. “Bunkbeds”, you had forgotten.

When I was little, I used to spend whole nights playing videogames with my brother. Often, during the morning I would fall off it. So I feel you Zera, me too...

Of course there would be a reference to Twilight Wings

✉ Hey-a Champ’ in the making 👑🧗🏻‍♀️

✉ Got Hop on the 🤙🏽📱. He told me you were going to face Milo today 🌿

✉ Good luck! 😁🤞🏽☘️

You sighed amorously and Haunter pulled your cheek until you came out of your trance.

Oh Haunter... you’re such a homie. Protecting your Trainer like this.

Luckily, the explanations came very quickly in the form of a short blond man with a large moustache and exorbitant eyes. He introduced himself as Dan, the Mission Manager of that first Gym. He must have been in his fifties or so and tried his best to use a bit of millennial humour... with no success.

- “Your mission... should you choose to accept it...”

👀...

You did not like being filmed however (you would be broadcasted live on Galar1), but you had no choice but to deal with it.

Galar1 is the name of the main channel of the country. As you’ve guessed it, it’s the equivalent of BBC.

A presenter's voice announced your name and origin as the mission was about to begin.

“Welcome everyone! My name is Caesar and I’ll be your host throughout the whole Gym Challenge. I’m accompanied here by Mr Crane”

“Caesar, it’s a pleasure as always.”

“Dear, the pleasure is all mine. So…” (The blue-haired host said while rubbing his hands) “What do we have here?”

“This is one of the two Champion-endorsed Challenger” (Replied his coworker while reading his sheet) “Her name is Zera”

“Zera what?”

“Just Zera” (He insisted) “We don’t know much about her except that’s she’s from the small village of Postwick”

“Where in the blazes is that?” (Ceasar unnecessarily joked)

“Eh. Somewhere deep in the South I believe”

“Well, Zera-from-somewhere-deep-in-the-south, good luck!”

I bet I made some of you squeal when you read that. To all the Hunger Games fans, *Rue sign*.

Also, Crane is a reference to Seneca Crane, the useless operator of Katniss’ first games

You were now free to carry on your way and climbed the stairs leading out of the dome. Once at the top you turned and smiled for the camera, waving to your audience. Then you left the place as they commented on your flawless performance. You were commended for your sharp and calm mind even in stressful situations.

(Hoh... you’re approaching me?)

You’ll see throughout the next Chapters, but every Gym Leader will have an “entrance music”. Obviously Milo’s had “Irish Party In Third Class”.

You backed away until you reached a mark on the second circle of the track. As you stepped on it, a red hexagonal barrier rose up all around you before instantly disappearing. These were the standard protections for Pokémon matches. Some attacks could sometimes have the unfortunate tendency to miss, and since the Trainers were behind... Oof, there had been some terrible accidents. Luckily, your father's company had managed to develop this technology to ensure the safety of any self-respecting Trainer. At least something he had done right…

Yet another idea coming from Bleach, but not entirely. Obviously I was inspired by Urahara’s Sword’s power, but also from the Pokemon Anime. During that battle with Leon, Ash or Lance (one of them) uses an overpowering Max Move that hit the audience, or would have if there hadn’t been any protections. There was this kind of red barrier that appeared and I figured why not have one for Trainers as well? It’s quite dangerous battling, but we don’t realize it. Remember in Chapter 2 when Rose had to duck to the side to avoid Volcarona’s flamethrower? Here’s a ready why safety matters.

FINALLY! MY FIRST GYM BATTLE! BOY, I WAS EXCITED

I have been listening to the track for hours on end, but never grew bored of it. The issue I’ve had though was with the timing in the song. It was a bit wonky and for the sake of realism I had to re-use timings even if you hadn’t finished listening to the track. I’m... not sure I make sense... Usually when I write, I pay attention to the song’s length and try to write so that when you read it at a normal pace you can follow with the music on. BUT I COULDN’T DO THAT HERE. So I tried to patch it up to the best of my ability... I hope this was readable nonetheless

So here’s Milo’s Team for this first encounter, at least in the game. Here in the Fic I’ve given more attacks to his Pokémon, lest the battle would have ended in two minutes. As you can see, Gossifleur’s movepool is essentially normal-type, hence why Milo tells Zera she had complicated his life. Also, he uses Protect which he can’t learn. Believe me, I’ve checked their movepools and so I had to fiddle a little...

I also gave Effect Spore, a hidden ability, to Gossifleur. We need more drama in those battles

- “Simply brilliant” (He started in a quiet voice) “But we’re not going to be done in that easy! We’re tough as weeds!”

- “Then I’ll weed you out!”

That is when the moment arrived. Milo threw his arm to the side, a white bracelet sparkling on his wrist. A red glow emanated from it and you knew what was about to happen.

- “Come on, then! It is Dynamax time! You’re about to be uprooted!”

A large 831 appeared on the screens as Milo was filmed from behind, then the camera focused on his face more determined than ever. He called his Pokémon back into battle and harnessed the power of his bracelet. His Pokéball turned pink and indented, like the pieces of a puzzle, and then it grew, growing to at least five times its size. You wondered how you could achieve the same feat. Milo had the muscles to hold such a mass, but not you! There ensued an adorable moment when he held his Ball close to him, gently tapping its surface. Then he threw the ball behind him about 20 meters away.

Then you recalled your Pokémon with a determined face.

- “So? How do you like Max Geyser?”

- “A little cold” (You teased with a smile) “But I'm not done yet!”

- “Good! That’s the spirit!... That will really leave you in shock and awe. It’s our Dynamax move, Eldegoss, Max Overgrowth!”

Winning her very first Gym Battle. you can even see the Grassy Terrain effect because of the leaf fluttering. However there was no rain when I fought Milo, which is obvious given the fact Eldegoss doesn’t know any Water-type moves

For the avid players, surely you’ve noticed the NPC present at every Gym throughout the game. She has no name but I decided to call her Gina in honor of the Character in Brooklyn Nine Nine. I had binge watched the show last year and she had been stuck in my mind for months.

And this my friend marks the end of our very own Behind The Writing. I hope you enjoyed this new post and I invite you to stay tuned for the next Chapter. Unfortunately, It might not release until mid-June, or beginning of July. As I’ve mentionned in another post, I have an essay to surrender + I’m starting a new Internship which means I’ll be real busy. Still, I’m your faithful servant and I’ll try to keep on working the next Chapter

WE’LL HAVE MORE ROSE AND ZERA INTERACTIONS THEN. And considering how much you loved the first one, I’ll be sure to give you what you need on the next Chapter! also, Zera will get to see her stepsister after 7 years, now that’s something i’m looking forward to write...

Take care!

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unproduciblesmackdown · 5 years ago

Note

i was gonna send an ask like "have you considered: 'anger is a type of geography' + 4x11" and then i checked and you actually had! but if you feel like considering it More then here's a free space

oh thanks for these Layers of Allyship re: humoring my repeated [anger geography sign tapping] and checking for things and then sending me asks about it all to invite yet more Consideration.........yeah i feel like i mentioned it at least once in tags or smthing lol??? but here comes yet more consideration / giving it an In The Text post if that doesn’t exist already yet either

the Anger Is A Type Of Geography Quote From Hanif Abdurraqib in question for everyone’s reference:

anger is a type of geography. the ways out of it expand the more you love a person. the more forgiveness you might be willing to afford each other opens up new and unexpected roads. and so, for some, staying angry at someone you love is a reasonable option. to stay angry at someone you know will forgive your anger is a type of love, or at least it is a type of familiarity that can feel like love.

like, yeah sure what with winston originally talking to lauren and mafee about this and taylor Happening to walk in on it, he probably wasn’t necessarily planning to go off on his Indignant Monologue to taylor right then and there, but the fact remains that he was willing to do so, and i definitely think that that wouldn’t be the case if he didn’t have this Respect for them and think that they have respect for him in turn, and if he didn’t also think that that mutual respect is holding hands with mutually valuing each other. like, he wouldn’t say it if he didn’t think taylor might actually listen / consider what he says, and he wouldn’t even Want to say it if he didn’t give a shit about them, because he’s not just complaining about “um i simply ask for more money,” it’s about the fact he Feels Disrespected by the implied deprioritization of tmc employees and that the way this (false lol) choice is presented to them being Unfair and disingenuous. like, you could (and im sure most viewers do) interpret the other stuff he says as just him backing up his “Pay Me” argument when all he really cares about is the Pay Me part, but a) that’s not how We roll and b) doesn’t make sense with winston being just as happy as anyone else in 4x12with taylor Apologizing re: many of these 4x11 points, despite them not saying they were gonna change the Bonus situation lol, and c) it Does make sense to think that the Mutual Respect between taylor and winston matters to him due to [see: the rest of this post]

well wait lol first of all yeah sure the money Must matter to him b/c nobody could possibly be in the world of High Finance as a passion project (except for taylor apparently lmao cuz i mean we know that the Real reason they are determined to stick with hedge fundery (and involved in the first place) is b/c they are the best part of the show and elevate all the other Lesser Elements of it as well) and also we can figure that this was probably winston’s first year working a Big Time Official Job and he doesn’t have the savings that other ppl might when they’ve been in the business multiple years, and this seems to be backed up by lauren referring to him as they guy who’d be the First One Smothered by either taking a bonus cut by 40% or not getting that bonus at all until a whole other year, which, like he seems to also imply, is also Unhelpful in that surely these investment finance people turn around and invest their own finances, and Bonus Now is better than Bonus Then b/c.....interest....Long Shares.......and also just like tfw you want your job to pay you.......but anyways Seriously [next paragraph]

cuz winston *must* be working at Taylor Mason Capital b/c he really values working with taylor more than, say, wanting a job that will make him the most money, or will necessarily look the best on a resumé if he’s just looking to up his stats, b/c yeah, this is sure an unlikely opportunity for him where this is what we’re assuming is his First Fancy Job and he’s getting to be the Top Quant right out of the gate, but he must also know that like, it’s still like “oh so you were head quant at a brand new fund :/” and also he must know that there’s a Risk with said fund and he might even end up having been head quant at a new fund that burned out really quick, super impressive........and, we Know that winston *knows* how good he is at what he does, even though he keeps getting dunked on for that like he’s sooo conceited lol like. he IS that good, sorry!!!! why should he downplay it, we don’t actually see him being one of these shitheads with a fragile ego trying to prove themselves Superior or whatever.....ANYWAYS yeah the point being that, winston claiming to have a lot of offers already in the interview might very well Not be any kind of bluff, and he’d surely know that he could rise through the Quant Ranks quickly enough at some other fund even if he started out as anything but Our Main Quant at those places.......and if Getting Tf Paid Top Dollar was really his primary concern, “go with the brand new hedge fund which doesn’t have Established History / Experience / Clout and has the one big investor but who knows what’ll come next and any business that Just opened is not your safest bet even if you trust in your own skill and in that of your ceo and you Know that even if you’re not immediately destroyed, funds will be tighter / of a Lesser Amount than at a bigger established fund”.........the now-dramatic-irony of him talking about how those Tech Firms Out West pay guarantees, not bonuses.........like, when he was trying to get onboard with axe cap, he was obvs interested in trying to leverage to get Paid more, which is like, not necessarily winston wanting to be a trillionaire but also just how stupidly everyone’s supposed to like Play The Game of negotiating / leveraging / calling your employer’s bluff to get a certain starting salary / get a raise or whatever, dumb as hell baked-in Requirement........discuss your wages with coworkers gang!!! anyways. and but Also winston makes it clear when interviewing for axe cap that Working With Taylor Mason has appeal, even if he’s flippant about it, cuz he’s flippant about all of it cuz that’s his shtick here.....

like, when it’s Taylor Alone who calls him back eventually, he’s fine with meeting up with Just Them, and later on meeting up with Just Them (and the other quants, rip) again, and agrees to work in this lil basement evidently Not on axe cap premises b/c he’d been at axe cap’s offices and this is Not That Place......and yeah him talking about taylor selling axe on using his algorithm in kompenso sure implies that winston has this whole time Assumed that all of this was still ultimately in the service of axe cap.......and he was apparently fine with reporting to Taylor Alone and not getting to rub elbows with any other higher-ups, and he’s obviously pleased well enough with a “good work :)” from taylor and isn’t like “hey be sure to tell axe & co i did this singlehandedly etc” or anything, and he’s not really complaining about the whole “work in this lil basement Not at axe cap hq with taylor mason dropping in at least once to check on you and that’s about it” situation, which obviously is hardly that “You’re A Valued Axe Cap Employee” treatment one might expect if they wanted that.....winston’s glad that taylor called him, he’s trying to appeal to them and what *they* want to see rather than how he tried to go for what he thinks [a place like axe cap] would wanna see like he did in the interview, he’s showing up at this weird basement rendezvous to be on a 3 person quant team of taylor’s, he’s fine to not only do this on his own but also accept those increased demands that make it a [fifty(? or 15, either way) phds would work on this]-Level task, and then he’s glad just to have taylor’s approval at the end of the day.......they Wouldn’t have been able to promise him any leverage of “please do your best work on this” with like, promotions / clout within axe cap or axe-cap-levels of Lots Of Payment b/c like, well taylor wouldn’t outright lie anyways but also Especially wouldn’t if they wanted to keep this quant around for tmc, so winston must never have been asking about that kind of thing

and then, bless your Missing Scene fic but there’s zero canon content re: “uh how/when did taylor break it to winston that this algorithm was for their own fund actually and btw do you want to work for that fund instead,” but presumably it went smoothly enough, he was already happy to Effectively work for them alone apparently even if he still thought that yeah, he was working for taylor who was working for axe........just Yeah altogether it’s evident that “Working With Taylor Mason” must matter more to him than “working with any Other big name financiers” or “getting paid as much as he can get” or “raking in that clout asap to leverage with Other jobs or just like, in general.”

and then of course you have the fact that taylor is Recognizing his ability by calling him back and offering him this job, going “despite your demeanor your skills are superior” and “those other two were sweet, but you’re more talented, i need you,” [praying hands emoji], and giving him this Second Chance and entrusting him with this Solo re: building this algorithm which, unbeknownst at the time to him, is really this linchpin of their hopes & dreams of launching their own secret fund here, and really they must’ve been planning from the start to keep him around if he succeeded b/c it’s not like the algorithm and their whole planned Quant Department wouldn’t continue to be integral to the fund’s success, it wouldn’t really be ideal to have this guy be the one to build an algorithm to reel in an investor who’s working in.....wait for it......billions of dollars here, and then be like, okay bye dude. they must Know how good he is same as winston knows how good he is, and him being Head Quant from the very start was surely never just about mase cap having precious few employees at the very start of things....they could’ve like given him that Lead Position temporarily or whatever, they’re ceo. but they really do value him as like, maybe he doesn’t have the ideal ~personality~ for what fucking ever, either for being Properly Assertive and Impressively Flashy like axe cap might want, or just easy to work with, which taylor would care more about than axe cap would lol, but yknow, they value his Abilities and surely they must also value his efforts re: I Promise To Try and re: his really singlehandedly making that brilliant amazing algorithm which evidently did the trick as they hoped it would

and then......dare i get to the Emotional part of things, the Interpersonal....the anger and the love...............

i mean already when winnie n tay are having their post-math-meetup meetup, aka the first time they’re meeting After their disastrous really-first meeting aka the Interview, you have winston taking a way more grounded approach to this “yeah i want to work for you please accept me” process which is obviously in response to what he thinks Taylor wants from him based on the mess of the interview, evident thanks to winston telling them that he’s been thinking about all of that.......and i mean, part of taylor’s whole thing is they have that grounded approach pretty much always lol, (or try to....Want to...), but they sure seem to Also be bringing this effort to Accommodate him based on the hot mess of the interview, wherein yeah they wouldn’t’ve expected to have to ever interact again with this person they were dunking into the trash (and of course from that Meta Perspective, the scene when originally written was meant to be winston’s only appearance ever), but they really seem to also be bringing a more dialed down approach, letting him talk first and going along with his “you ever done math meetup” intro until he’s the one who changes the subject, and i really see that Head Tilt as a sympathetic one lol, not necessarily like “awww :’0″ levels lmao but still like. they Know he’s likely to have some [emotional vulnerability] re: what last went down between them since they weren’t especially gentle with him then, and they like, demonstrably give a shit about that fact lol. they’re also not just wholly swinging in the other direction to make up for it or anything lol but they’re Also making it clear that, yknow, they’re willing to work with him For Real, not just in this “are you willing to work for me, y/n, okay great” way, but in this way of [winston making an effort to make things easier on taylor] and [taylor making an effort to make things easier on winston] which is already playing out here between them.

and the whole matter of winston’s seemingly genuine Dismay at messing up even part of this exchange, i.e. the “[wince-ston] damn it, sorry,” like, sure maybe he just really wants the job, but [see: everything above about how he Must primarily want to work with taylor re: wanting any of these jobs lol] and, after all, he “oh shit, sorry”s @ them when he’s well-established as their Head Quant in ep 4x08 and generally shows this directed-at-self displeasure at thinking he’s messed something up even without some clear “your (potential) job is on the line” element......he just Doesn’t Want To Disappoint Taylor Themself, doesn’t need some particular fear of further repercussion behind that.

and speaking of Lack Of Fear, you Know we love to point out how kompenso (and really winston’s :/ + “sure, why not :\”ness at the end of 3x09 lol) demonstrates that winston isn’t afraid of taylor either as an [intense and unusually-demeanor'd person who Does apparently strike people as Scary(tm) sometimes lol] or as this Esteemed Rising Star Axe Cap Higher-Up or simply as his de facto boss.........he’s not raring to tell them that the other quants bailed b/c of his own disapproval lol, but he’s honest as soon as they deduce as much, the tone of “fine, yes, big time” + his standing up to get even closer to them instead of just shaking in his desk chair like :c pls forgive me obviously does Not convey that he’s terrified of them, and then the rest of that interaction jsut being like, ugh god so fucking essential, they’re both able to stand face to face and be like I Am Looking Directly At It / I Do See It re: each other, both of them just continuing to be Honest and Direct with each other, God.....taylor might’ve swatted his metaphor away but he was not all that put out, and then they’re Using His Own Language by bringing it back three seconds later, like, yeah sure at this point they have a vested interest in this individual quant (the only one left lol) accepting this Demanding Task, but a) they’re not exactly playing it cool on that front, they Just said “i need You,” it’s unlikely that this is just some all manipulative tactic here by encouraging his metaphor after all lol and that’s hardly their style anyways even if they Can be strategic(tm) about things, and b) they’ve Just Previously adopted his own words lol with winston having said “as for not being a dick” and taylor saying “you backslid into being a dick” (combining His Phrasing with Theirs aka “if you promise not to backslide”....god!!!!!!)

and so then yeah to top it all off winston even ~pushes his luck~ lol by being a lil deliberately rude re: his ex-coworkers lmaoo, and you get taylor’s Reaction to being sort of tested here to be Closing Off Their Expression (speaking of....their tiny lil Eyebrow Twitch when winston infers that he’s making something to pitch to an investor.....god!!!!!! a) winnie n tay and b) emmy) and making it clear that their interest in him acting Easy To Work With was a practical matter......winston watching them go up the stairs, taylor looking back at him as they Ascend and he gets back to his desk.....jesus

the point being!!! they vibe with each other so well by Kompenso already and just *get* how the other operates and communicates and Neither Of Them are offput by the other, Neither Of Them are unwilling or uninterested in meeting each other where they’re at, and each exerting this effort to really work with each other........and how winston is Not intimidated by taylor as either someone who’s so ~weird~ and can be so Intense, or as someone who is his boss lol........which yknow we always also point out as Important re: tayston developing from this point, where taylor would be careful in how they approach winston about fwbship but would feel like it was even reasonable to consider it in the first place thanks to not having to feel like oh he definitely wouldn’t feel comfortable being honest if he wanted to say no / wasn’t sure

also Yeah It’s Billions but winston freely swearing with the F-word when they’re assessing the completed algorithm, which taylor has no reaction to lol.......the both of them being Hyped about this algorithm lol, like, Of Course they’d both be, but it’s fun :)

and then 4x03, with winston not acting terrified about there being potential Algorithm Problems, and taylor making sure to be like “don’t you dare blame latency” lol like which obv he May Have been planning to mention lol since he’s intending to give this technical answer rather than throwing out his Front Running / Interference Theory like mafee then does.....fun little moment too anyways.......taylor Allowing winston’s tangent about being cassandra and emails and “it’s pronounced owned,” like, they’re not raring to Interrupt / cut him off even if it’s Not obvious what he has to say is absolutely crucial and considered relevant by everyone else, and they’re not telling him he’s a stupid idiot and wasting their time or anything else before sending him away.......imagine. and just think about the beauty of winston very intently / earnestly saying his “i’m cassandra: Always Seeing The Future” right to taylor.

and in 4x08 they build on his metaphor Again after having just Validated him despite everyone else really wanting to do the opposite lol......i “lol” but would everyone else lay off a little Lol......his self-reproach upon Registering that disapproval / oh-no-i’ve-messed-upness again.......then despite winston Standing Right Beside and then Sitting Right Behind taylor they don’t really interact l o l .....we have taylor being all “why is He so happy” and silently observing his Solo “i won” moment, rip, but also congrats.....and then i suppose that covers the Prior To 4x11 stuff lol

just......even re: the relative little we’ve Seen between them up to that point, winston might not have intended to talk to taylor right then, and he might or might not have intended to eventually talk to them in front of anyone else, but You Know He Knows that taylor listens to him, and that he doesn’t have to like, say things in what other people think is The Right And Effective Way to talk (even by billions’s fucking off the shits standards on that front lol), because taylor Does care about what he actually means and what his actual intentions are, not just “oh that very direct/honest thing you said Seemed rude whether you intended it or not”.......the “sad” after his yngwie malmsteen metaphor was the only time they’ve critiqued something like that lol and they then used that metaphor, So, and they’ve copied him calling himself a dick lol, and they built on his Sword metaphor, and they’ve just always been interested in Understanding him and communicating effectively with him, not in trying to get him to communicate differently or just making sure he knows He Should Feel Bad about how he Does communicate, though god knows the latter is something that everyone else seems to be somewhat #about. god knows some axe capper would have that “are you finished?” simply be the Purely Rhetorical intro to their barrage of Dunking-Upon insults, although it sure seems possible that that could’ve been sort of gently dismissive enough anyways to Encourage winston to not be finished even if maybe he would’ve stopped there otherwise.....but everyone else follows taylor’s lead in Not Actually Interrupting Him at any point, despite all the 9_9 and >:| as it were, and like, even though taylor then lets this whole thing end just with mafee going tf off on winston and bullying him into deferring and would-be deference, b/c winston might have this amount of moxie and he might be honest and he might not be scared of taylor (or anyone else here really) but he’s obviously not that assertive and definitely not that aggressive, he’s self-loathing, he’s easily put out, and all of this just bolsters how much it means that he communicates so well with taylor, b/c they’re Not interested in anything that would be counterproductive to actual effective communication but which might be “productive” if they had a goal of wanting to twist his arm about anything or pressure him into acting a certain way or just fueling their own ego or sense of superiority, axe cap style. they Value all his actual input and they have this respect for him where they don’t Want to bully him even if it’s not that difficult, like, yeah mafee was being mean to him for sure and trying to insult him into simply shutting tf up rather than like, actually responding to any of his points or doing anything but reinforcing them, but also winston has been Put Out by milder [negative responses] too, it’s of course more than just “i respect you too much to like, yell at you and try to diminish you”

and Frankly Winston Was Right and he may have been Indignant and he may not have been ~polite~ about it (though like, relative to how he is generally this Direct And Honest, there’s also not all that much evidence he’s deliberately trying to add some extra servings of Rudeness or anything) but once again like with the “as for not being a dick, i can’t absolute guarantee it” moment and the “fine, yes, big time” moment, and the “im sure it’ll go faster without the dead weight; Whoops ;)” moment, and the [talking about the algorithm problems] moment, and him freely jumping in with the “this plan might get us killed (not literally)” and “it’s b/c it sucks that they had to decapitate their dad, also not literally lol....although...” remarks, he’s just like, never afraid to tell taylor something that sure might not be the most pleasant for them to hear, and sure might not be something they Want to hear. and what’s Honest is that he’s Angry about this, and they won’t want to hear that and that they will even less want to hear his Honest Thoughts about why this is unfair, but he’s willing to say that to them, and even though we were like “haha boy winston if this isn’t fixed big time you might wanna quit :/” it’s also like, he must’ve trusted them to not wanna just fire him for lack of reverence to his ceo, and we can Juxtapose this with a) the scene that we’re set up to juxtapose it with, wherein a group of axe cappers carefully tell axe he’s being dumb as hell and might fuck all of them over, and axe tells them all to shut the fuck up b/c He Is Their Sun and he can do what he wants and get the fuck out of here, and we can also juxtapose it with b) winston being jumped on immediately in The Interview for ~lack of reverence~ to the potential employer, putting on this cocksure hotshot act (trying to..) and daring to express confidence in himself and be like “i should be interviewing you” / you should be selling to Me lol......jump to 4x11 and winston is caught off guard, he’s not putting on any kind of act, he’s not trying to appeal to anyone, sure mafee might turn it around on his [last we checked, the quant hates himself]ness, but this wasn’t about Winston Lashing Out b/c he’s angry at himself, he’s angry at Them for not valuing him, for what he perceives as them not even *really* giving them the option of the 60% Now approach, which sure seems to be justified seeing as apparently nobody but lauren goes for it and after winston invokes the Peer Pressure / pressure to seem Loyal / Committed by deferring, mafee immediately uses that [social pressure] to crush his dissent........where was i. right like. winston’s truly just Mad At Someone Else this time, he wouldn’t be here if his self-esteem was so low that he was immediately ready to just accept and absorb this treatment, and he Knows that taylor will actually listen to him which is their fuckin Mutual Respect thing and who tf else does that for him all the time, and he knows that taylor doesn’t value their own ego above everything else Unlike Some People, and he knows that he can be honest and get an honest reaction and that their honest reaction to his honesty is not “ugh you’re stupid / annoying / rude / etc,” b/c he’s Not, and that might be everyone else’s idea of him to some degree, but taylor Gets him better than that

and then you don’t quite have taylor being obviously Angry back, but they’re not exactly thrilled, and letting mafee go off on winston / effectively telling him they expect him to consider That the response and in turn respond back to that, can sure be interpreted as an expression of something a little short of pure goodwill and best intentions towards him here lol......again, i lol through the pain.......winston only has further reason to be angry, his Complaints weren’t resolved in the least and he came in all “i feel disrespected” and surely that’s only been doubled down on, b/c this isn’t Just “pay me goddamnit,” it’s really also just about the fundamental respect itself, which he figured that taylor cares about too, and so this would be something he could appeal to / expect them to earnestly.....he feels like none of them are being valued more than this feud with axe cap, he (maybe) feels like said feud is causing the quants’ work to be deprioritized in favor of more elaborate schemes based on “what will screw axe over specifically,” he feels like he’s not being valued as a Very Important Employee, he feels like this False Choice thanks to Social Pressure is insult to injury, like they’re not supposed to get a real chance to question this. boy i’m really just going off talking about any and all aspects of this huh, where’s the Anger Geography core here

well here it is: winston doesn’t ever talk to taylor in any more Filtered way due to them being his boss / him feeling a need to be more careful around them, if anything, they’re the one person he can be Least filtered around, b/c they care about What He Actually Means and aren’t all hung up on whether his communication style seems gratingly weird / wrong / offputting. winston isn’t bringing any particular leverage to this situation, yeah sure he pointed out He’s Valuable but he also did that in the interview with even less leverage and in the basement when he thought he was just working on some weird side project for axe cap in this remote quant dungeon - he’s counting on them to just Listen To Him and care about what he means, same as he always does and like they’ve done thus far. and he’s Temporarily Burned by this, which is tragic, but then 4x12 happens, and who knows if taylor and winston talked between these scenes at all cuz billions sure won’t say at all, but either way winston sure seems to pick up on the fact that taylor is responding to his Complaints here, the implication they were taking a too-axe-esque approach to them now answered by taylor deliberately differentiating themself from axe, and asserting that they Do value their employees and their contributions, and that taylor has this responsibility to them, and maybe Had gone astray there with the revenge jag but aren’t actually interested in that being the core of everything.........winston is Validated and we realize it and he seems to realize it lol, he definitely Was listened to, and he sure wasn’t like fired or anything, he Could Be Angry with them and that wasn’t going to lead to taylor wanting to sever even the Professional relationship or anything like that. sure seems to be no grudge held between them during the “q is for quantitative, babey” scene there lol and yeah it’s billions and shit moves fast / people will roll with A Lot of mistreatment apparently (see: winston also does not seem to harbor any grudge against mafee here lol but who knows) but the Fact Is, here they are, having found A Way Out Of [Anger], after having had this altercation which wouldn’t even have been possible if Winston hadn’t felt it was possible for them to interact like this, for him to be mad and be honest about that anger and the hows and whys of it and for that Not to be a dead end between them or something that could shatter the relationship entirely. and he was Validated!!!!

and guess who i also love to quote and paraphrase lol i also think of mariame kaba talking about interpersonal Conflict being possible Opportunities in a relationship, because working through said conflict can allow the relationship to grow / deepen / strengthen. which sure seems to Hold Hands with this idea: that you can Be Angry with someone because you already know that won’t break the relationship, and that even if you don’t already know that, going through that experience / process of Being Angry with someone and coming out the other side together will show that the relationship can handle that / will have involved gaining tools to be able to handle that going forward. and really like, we’ve seen winston Forgive taylor’s anger at him right off, and that may not be the sweeping heights of love but it came from Understanding (and....low self-es steam probably lol) but no really, he Shows that he understands why they reacted like that by behaving in this way that he figures is more in line with what they actually want, just talking and being direct with no boxes or [wags] or standard boring interview questions or posturing, showing he’s willing to work with them in the “please hire me” and “i’ll try to Behave” ways lol........and taylor is offering their own patience and sympathy and restraint and Understanding and willingness to bend.......things are happening on an emotional plane between them here.

and then after winston chooses to be on board with mase cap, and after he’s worked for them so long that it’s comp time baby, and after these few Sample Interactions we’ve seen in which taylor doesn’t cut winston down or show contempt for him and they continue to directly or indirectly validate him, winston can be Angry with them and taylor can (definitely Sorta) be Angry back, and winston surely even Stayed Angry after that scene in 4x11, and he didn’t quit, and was that [terrible self-esteem actually lol] or was it him believing that there could be a way out of this state of anger between him and taylor? both?? we get to decide!! b/c he’s sure not Validated and Vindicated until later lol.....what does he sit there on that couch alone in that room and Think in those moments...........and then once things Are better resolved, they have this whole [episode of conflict] in their history, and like is the whole Point of all of this, that’s hardly necessarily just some awful and unfortunate thing.......their relationship can survive something like that, and the conflict sure sparked this kind of Genuine Interaction between them which couldn’t have happened if winston just shied away from all this / kept it to himself because he didn’t think taylor would Listen or Care or Understand.

and it’s Not Just About The Money, and even when he expresses that he’s upset about this perceived disrespect / not being valued as an employee, we Know that he’s not someone who’s got this need to feel superior to everybody else / like he’s always Winning, and we know he’s not after Maximum Clout, but he does want to Work With taylor and he evidently wants to feel valued By Them, who does happen to be his boss and does have this avenue to potentially treat any employees unfairly. and we know that winston *knows* in this objective way how good his work is, and both winston and taylor have acknowledged that yeah, His Work / professional quantly ablities have value, so winston Knows he should expect for that to be valued in the form of “your quantributions are important and you’re getting paid to reflect that”........and that he feels like he’s for once not being Allowed Honesty re: everyone supposedly being pressured into deferring is like..........what do he and taylor have if not earnest, open communication b/c they both value and respect what the other Really Has To Say!!!!!! that’s winnie n tay and it’s also tayston.

which, speaking of which, Sidenote: when it comes to tayston hcs we generally have this as a “they’re not currently doing Their Thing at this point anyways, and maybe the fact that that’s been ended (and they Haven’t been talking through this particular conflict yet) is adding to the tension / anger / feeling of not being valued hahaha rip” deal lol, but also if they Were still currently in their fwb/[???]ship like obviously this would spill over and probably require an at-least-temporary halt to give everyone some space seeing as it’d be a little impossible to truly completely Set That Aside in the recent aftermath l o l ......but despite the lingering tension / awkwardness that would be present whenever they Do next meetup [imagine: an I Was On The Phone With You, Sweetheart phonecall prior to 4x12′s scene?? wrow] the layers to that ensuing sex lol......reunion sex? makeup sex? not-hate-sex-but-maybe-still-needing-to-vent-a-lil-Emotional-frustration-maybe sex? maybe all of the above and more

ANYWAYS even i don’t know why this is so long, and also it’s 7am. i definitely think that winston trusted taylor and the Relationship between them to be able to handle Anger (his, for once, lol) and for that Anger to even potentially be something Constructive. and he was right. and in 4x12 he’s there with them at the very end, wearing the tmc logo, standing behind them in the hellhole which is axe cap hq, knowing that taylor is the one person (here, certainly) who definitely Gets and who’s Got him, who’s asserted this loyalty and commitment to him after he’s certainly done that re: them, and once again winston definitely has this Choice to be here with them just like he must’ve had that choice to join up with their fund in the first place, he’s never been trapped with them or forced into alliance with them, and we just Know that he’s not choosing to be here just for Linkedin reasons / what’s best for career advancement and/or for raking it in as best as he can manage and/or for gaining clout and status or whatever, and we sure never see him reaping some kind of deluxe treatment/benefits just for being closely associated with taylor / having their approval. everything we see points to winston caring most about what happens between him and taylor and that he gets to work with them and that he’s here because of that mutual respect and value for each other.

and really, the show also repeatedly tells us that winston Does basically have these world-class abilities and *is* that valuable, and we know that winston Knows how good he is, and he must’ve legitimately had all those offers and known that he’s really good enough that these places Should compete for him. he must’ve known that he has this Potential here and all of these options laid out in front of him, and he takes taylor’s call and shows up in a basement for them and singlehandedly writes an algorithm good enough to found their fund upon and he follows them there when now he’s got this Proof of just how incredible his work is and could’ve leveraged that anywhere else. but his relationship with taylor has always had this personal aspect to it and the fact is that, even with his choice of Paths laid out in front of him, he chose and keeps choosing the geography of winnie n tay. Love. thank you and goodnight

#time to attempt a nap!!!! Them!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#winston billions #tayston #nothingunrealistic1

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omg-foreverfilledwithweird-posts · 6 years ago

Text

Kitty (˃ᆺ˂)

Pairing: T’Challa X Reader

Summary: You, a sharp, quick-witted, and bold Avenger with a fire that rivals your pyro wielding abilities were sent by your fellow Avengers to Wakanda to man the division there alongside the king himself, T’Challa. To oversee, fight battles if need be, and help get Bucky back on his feet. So when the Avengers are invited for a few days to Wakanda, to take a vacation, and there’s a party thrown in honor of them; M’Baku comes to stir trouble by pissing off the king in the only way he can make the man lose his cool: hitting on you.

A/N: okay so this is a mess and a half and I’m really bored and have been writing dozens of stories at once but decided I wanted some Black Panther, partly because I love me some T’Challa and to celebrate Black History Month, it’s important and this soft fic with hints of smut and heat can hopefully make some of you guys smile XD some Xhosa is used because that was the language they spoke in the movie and it’s just so beautiful btw I ADORE M’BAKU I just needed conflict XD I hope you enjoy I loved writing it your comments and feedback have been MAKING MY DAYS!!! it’s so longggggg let me know if you want more (might write an Erik one next ;))

Warnings: so much fluff, cheesiness, feels, jealous! T’Challa, sexual themes, long beginning before smut, SMUT SMUT SMUT in a semi-public place, possessive sex, oral (female receiving), FILTH, SIN, get ready

You were nervous, to say the least. This is the first event you’ve been to an event here, the first event ever really, you have no idea how to compose yourself in front of so many people. That many prying and wandering eyes, but T’Challa insistingly assures that you will be fine. You know he only says that because it’s in his blood. This royal thing comes to him as easily as breathing, he exhales, exudes, royalty and class. You’re an Avenger from NYC, nothing special, you think.

And here you are, eyes wide as saucers while the village women slip you into traditional Wakandan garments, a deeply intricate, detailed, dashiki-like pattern adorning the multicolored, silky fabric and draping down your body, hugging your womanly curves with a revealing a slit down the leg that started at the top of your thigh. They applied little to no makeup, a light, neutral color to your eyelids that highlighted the luminescent y/e/c and a bold, red lip, something that you aren’t quite as used to. The young girls of the village pinned the curls of your hair into a delicate braid, placing small flowers in the dips and folds, giggling to each other when you make silly faces at them every so often. You hold your palm face up, a fire appearing and morphing into a woman, dancing along the grooves of your hand. The girls look on, awestruck, jaws dropped and you grin, laughing along with them.

“They’ve dressed you well, y/n, you look more and more like a future queen every day,” The Queen Mother tells you kindly, her voice caring but forceful, strict but tender. The fire snuffs from your hand and you look up at her. Her expression is soft when she enters the room, commanding the attention of everyone around you without trying. “May I have a moment alone with her, ladies? She and I need to discuss a few things before tonight’s festivities...” she looks at you, her head tilted inquisitively. You gulp.

They nod and scurry from the room, the little girls waving after you as they run out, returning to their afternoon games before the Wakandan sunset sets in soon. You stand up, looking her in the eye to show respect. She’s been nothing but inviting towards you since you’ve arrived, it still surprises you how long you’ve stayed here, just a few months now. Then there are times she makes you wonder, with her occasional teasing and insinuating of getting you and T’Challa together. Okoye and Shuri not any better. Not that you minded, at all, you would be lying if you said you didn’t think about him or being with him. You’ve had a crush the moment you set eyes on him, on his kingdom. But you believe it won’t happen, can’t, with all these beautiful, Wakandan women fawning over him. How were you different, you thought.

“So...” she smiles, ulterior motives flashing in the curl of her warm, peach-tinted lips, you can tell she was a former queen just from the regal way she carries herself in the elegant gown she wears, gesturing for you to take a seat across from her. “You look like you have something on your mind. Tell me, dear.”

Funny you asked because I am riddled with anxiety over this celebration, seeing my friends again after so long, being dressed up with crowds of people analyzing me while I enter on the King’s arm, and oh, the fact that I might be in love with your son who I’ve only known for three or so months now. “Oh... it’s nothing.”

“Are you sure?” her smile widens considerably. “Nothing at all... not even something having to do with my son, the boy has taken a quite a liking to you, mnandi.” (sweetheart)

Your face burns brightly, smiling before you can help yourself, at the mention of him you’re a puddle at anyone’s feet, and she has her answer. “I-I don’t think that’s true,” you stammer out. “He and I... we’re only friends.”

“That’s what you think. But I’m his mother. I know him best,” she stands up, holding out her hand. You take it and she helps you up, grasping yours affectionately when you stand level with her. “He’s smitten, believe me,” she gives you a look that you don’t dare argue with. “Now... why don’t we get back, I’ve kept you long enough and T’Challa needs a date.”

“I thought you were going to be accompanying him, your Majesty,” you look at her, and she loops her arm through yours.

She smirks, looking at you from the corner of her eye, the same look you see Shuri get when she has an evil idea in mind. “I’ll live... The boy doesn’t need his mother. Not at a party, anyway. Besides, y/n... I have my people to keep me company.”

You smile when she begins walking down the hall of the palace, from the room you were just getting ready in. The hall leads to Shuri’s impressive lab where all her scientific and inventive endeavors take place. The guards by the door greet the two of you as you walk in, Ramonda giving them a curt, dignified nod that they respectfully return. You find Shuri and T’Challa arguing, not surprising, but it ceases in their stern mother’s presence. She arches a skilled eyebrow, from years of practice and motherhood.

“Children,” she scolds playfully, amused. “Compose yourselves in the face of a queen,” she says, and you think she’s referring to herself, but she’s looking at you with a soft smile. Oh.

T’Challa half smiles when you descend the steps to walk towards him, elated that you decided to slip on comfortable, gladiator sandals instead of dangerous heels. He wears the flattering, navy blue suit with silver detailing sewn in the lavish coat you love so much, complementing his deep, chocolate skin, and fitting to his broad, muscular frame. You can’t take your eyes off of him. Just as he can’t off you.

He whispers by your ear when you move to stand at his side, low enough to evade his family’s eavesdropping, his velvet voice is honey dripping, low and smooth like melted sweets, caramel or chocolate, hitting you in the most intimate of places, “You look enchanting.”

His eyes roam the expanses of the dips and curves on your body before him and he’s enraptured, flustered when you flash that demure smile as you catch him looking long enough for it to be considered staring. But you don’t mind. You revel in it.

“Thank you, my king,” you grow shy yourself, meeting his kind, brown eyes with flecks of gold and caramel, the tiniest tinges of green on the rim of the iris. He adores when you call him that.

“And you too, I mean you look good... as always... because well, you’re very handsome. Wait-” I shouldn’t have said that. You pause and your heartbeat quickens at the perplexed furrow of his brow, he smiles widely. “Y-you know what I mean.”

He nods, lips quirked in the corners, “I do... yes. But you seem nervous.”

“To say the least, yes, it’s just... nerve-wracking, that many people. And I’m one of the focuses.”

He looks at you and nods, listening intently before offering you his hand. He slips yours into his and squeezes it, calming your nerves. “If ever you find yourself becoming nervous, y/n, look to me and I will remind you that everything is alright,” he brushes his lips over your knuckles and presses a light kiss there. Shuri’s eyebrows hit her hairline.

A small smile graces your ethereal features.

“And I’ll be the one that will be heavily focused on, sadly,” he runs the pad of his thumb over your hand and it oddly comforts you, his warm touch. “That might not be the case tonight, however, with you there. They’ll be in awe of you.”

You laugh quietly, looking at your shuffling feet then back up at him, not realizing how close the two of you have gotten to one another until the Queen Mother and Shuri discretely clear their throats, knowing smiles on their faces. And Okoye, who snuck into the room without you both noticing somehow. She’s the worst of all when it comes to the teasing.

“Did he freeze?” she asks coyly. T’Challa glares at her, still holding your hand.

“Most definitely,” Shuri grins with a glimmer of something in her brown eyes. You grew scared as to what it was. “He didn’t move for a solid ten seconds.”

You and T’Challa share a roll of both your eyes, a rush of heat hitting you in waves. Then he shoots daggers at his conniving sister, for the teasing.

“Americans...” Okoye smiles to you. “So clueless.”

“As if you are any better,” you tease. “Mrs. I-love-Agent-Ross.” Shuri erupts with laughter, the King looking on at you with an impressed curl of his lips.

The Queen Mother speaks up, “Not that this discussion isn’t entertaining...” she winks at you. “We should get to the celebration before the people start to worry. Our guests of honor seem to have arrived...” she nods to the window, a ship landing outside by the grand entrance. You smile excitedly as all of you make your way to greet them.

Your friends and fellow teammates appear when the door to the elaborate ship opens, giving them a ramp to descend to you. They were informed to dress formal, and none of them disappointed. Captain is the first one you see and he flashes a brilliant grin that you return when you run up to embrace him. He wraps his strong arms around your waist and lifts you from the ground, having had missed his favorite team member, something he’d never openly admit to the others. He spins you around before setting you back down on solid ground.

“You look amazing,” he looks at you, Steve is like a big brother to you, the team is your family. You’ve missed them more than you’ve been letting on and T’Challa sees that, looking on with an adoring smile.

“I just hope you’re not making any trouble for the King of Wakanda, wreaking havoc on his kingdom or anything,” Natasha teases with a small, calculated smirk before engulfing you in one of her rare, genuine hugs. It’s a sight to see, her showing affection when all her life she was taught to hide it, but you have the privilege of being her best friend. She whispers by your ear, “You look beautiful, by the way.”

“She might have set a few, accidental fires in the lab, but other than that, completely fine,” Shuri pats your shoulder and you roll your eyes.

You smile, grasping her hand in yours, “Thank you, Nat. You look...” you look over her curve-hugging, red silk dress, and she does a small spin. “You look stunning, I missed you.”

She hugs you again, “I missed you, too, hothead.”

You despise that nickname coined by Tony Stark, scrunching up your nose, indignant, “I hate that name.”

“Too bad,” someone says behind you and you yelp when you’re pulled into a hug, someone’s blazer-clad arms looping around your waist.

“Dammit, Tony,” you laugh when he squeezes your sides, spinning you back around to give him a proper hug.

He embraces you tightly, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he gives you room to breathe. He, on the other hand, was like a father to you, “Missed you, kiddo.”

“I’m not that much younger than you, Stark.”

“I’m wise. Which makes me older than everybody,” he grips your shoulder affectionately. “You look great. They’re treating you well here, I hope?” he looks up at T’Challa, advancing to stop by your side. He lowers his voice, “You say the word and I will-”

“Tony, Tony,” you laugh. “Everything is perfect here. I promise,” you look at T’Challa when you say this and your friends understand why. Tony sizes him up, spooking the King.

Nat and Steve share a look of raised eyebrows and small smiles, Shuri joins in.

“Where are the rest?” you ask, looking towards the ship.

“They sadly couldn’t make it, but they will arrive at another time,” Nat explains.

“Okay, enough talking, this dress is suffocating,” Shuri finally complains, you knew it was coming, taking your unsuspecting hand and dragging you towards the entrance to the celebration. “Let’s hurry this up and get to the party already, so I can go back to my lab and out of this damned thing.”

“I like this girl,” Tony says to the others, his dark shades sliding down the bridge of his nose.

Ramonda eyes slit, “Language, Shuri.”

“Sorry, mother!” she yells back as everyone follows her inside to where the festivities have just begun.

You arrive at the door where Shuri dropped you off to wait for her brother. He stands by your side and offers you his arm, and you take it, hooking yours through his.

All eyes are on you when the guards open the double door for the both of you, so you move closer to him, pressing into his side and your grip tightening on his arm.

“Darling...” he whispers, an amused lilt in his deep voice. “Are you alright? You’ve gotten rather close.”

“Sorry, it’s just...” you look around the gazes of people. “All this attention.”

“Breathe, princess,” he chuckles, the masculine sound rumbling from deep within his chest. “I’ll go get us some refreshments, will you be okay until I get back?”

You furrow your brow, “No, and if you leave, my death will be on your hands.”

He breathes a soft laugh, “You’ll live, entle.” (beautiful) He slips from your grasp as he walks over to the table with all the food and drinks, eyes drawn to him and mostly women, you see.

A low, pleasant voice sounds behind you, “Mm, princess...” You turn around to see M’Baku, a friend and ally of T’Challa’s. You quickly size him up, his all ebony suit is flattering, to say the least, but his dark eyes hold something that makes your hair stand on end, something malicious.

“Hello, M’Baku,” you say, holding suspicion in your tone when you smile politely. But he takes it as an invitation to step closer.

“The King was right to allow your stay here, looking at you now...” his eyes wash over your figure but you don’t shy away, catching his gaze with an expert pull of your brow. “You’re breathtaking.”

You look over at T’Challa, busy discussing politics among other royals, looking like he was more forced into the conversation than willingly.

The orchestra picks up with the first slow song of the night, and M’Baku holds out his hand, offering you a dance. You open your mouth to decline his invitation, but he shakes his head, moving in closer.

“It wouldn’t be wise to say no to one of the King’s closest allies, now would it, princess? How would that make you look?” he whispers by your ear.

You meet his eyes, “Are you threatening me?”

“No, princess... only giving you advice,” he warns and you sigh, begrudgingly taking his hand, letting him pull you into a dance to keep from causing a stir in the crowd. There was no need to make a scene, not here, anyway. And it’s just one dance, what’s the worst that could happen?

His hand is dangerously low on the small of your back, too close to your ass, and his other hand holds up yours, to spin you into the waltz. He twirls you outward and pulls you back in, hand looped tightly around your waist and holding you against him. T’Challa’s eyes finally make their way over to the two of you, landing on M’Baku with a hard stare. There’s an ache and pull in his chest he’s never quite experienced, blinking hard when his eyes flash red, jealousy rearing its ugly head on his shoulder.

You look over at him and analyze his furrowed brow, hardened gaze, set eyes, and clenched jaw. But he couldn’t be... no, was it what you think it is?

M’Baku’s hand dares to drop lower, gripping your hips, to the curve of your ass, and you jump, jerking his hands away. Your hand collides harshly with his face, an audible and loud SMACK! circling the room, heads turning towards you.

“Don’t you dare touch me again, asshole,” you spit, chest heaving. “You’re lucky I don’t burn you where you stand. Keep your damn hands to yourself.”

Then the foolish man risks a glance in the angry King’s direction. T’Challa strides over with purpose, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves with his eyes set on you.

You’ve jumped away from M’Baku’s lustful grasp and watched helplessly as T’Challa walks up to him, the two men sizing each other up.

“M’Baku...” T’Challa says in a steady tone, eerily calm. “I did not know you would be here tonight, my friend.”

“Plans change,” he replies, looking at you but you shy away from his gaze fixated on your body.

“You seem to be making y/n uncomfortable, I must ask you politely to leave her alone... and be on your way,” he locks eyes with the man. “Or I will take other extreme measures to force you out.” Your eyes widen.

“Is that a threat, your Highness?” he takes a step towards him.

“No,” he does the same, and although M’Baku is considerably taller and larger, his presence looms over his ally. “It is a promise.”

“Watch your tongue, boy. I was only admiring the beautiful lady, she’s fine. Get off her back or I will snap yours in half.”

“Do you not remember the last time you challenged me to a fight?” he takes a menacing step towards him, toe to toe with the man. “If you wish to begin another, this time... I will show you no mercy.”

You finally step between them, placing a comforting hand flat against his muscular chest, feeling his rapid, worrisome heartbeat. You emit warmth from your palm, calming him and you watch as his fast breaths slow and even out, now steady with your own. He looks to you, something in his eyes you cannot read.

“T’Challa...” you coo in a soft, quiet voice. “Let’s go and find a place where you can get a breath of air. He’s not worth it, my King.”

He nods and follows you out of the room, hands balled into iron fists at his sides. The two of you leave without another word, making your way to the lab, a place that usually hustles and bustles with scientists and Shuri, exploding with new ideas. But it’s quiet now, empty, and it’s just the two of you.

“T’Challa?” you say, the name echoing off the walls of the vacant room but he doesn’t answer, looking out the window to the underground tunnel beneath his nation, focusing on the trains moving forward instead of his whirring mind. That’s come to a conclusion he thought he has already buried.

“My King, please speak to me,” you say, almost to the point of begging. “What did I do to deserve the silent treatment?”

He doesn’t answer, still looking out the window with his chest rising and falling harshly. He’s a king, he shouldn’t feel this way, so dependent upon you. Your smile, your laugh, your wit and intelligence, your presence, everything about you makes him weak when he is called upon to be strong for his country. But he craves it, you, and to see another man touching you in such a way, it angered him. More than he’s ever felt. He’s never felt love like this before.

You’ve begun to burn with rage yourself, hands glowing with flames, “T’Challa, dammit, his hands were on me, what did you want me to do? Are you mad because I caused a scene? Because I slapped him? Because I yelled? You can’t be-”

It happens in an instant, his hands taking your wrists in his large hands, and pinning you against the lab’s wall, pressing you against the glass. You inhale sharply, a gasp escaping your ruby lips and T’Challa growls lowly.

“Do you have any idea... what I wanted to do to him-” he purrs, eyes boring into yours. “For touching you in such a way? What I want to do to you?”

Your chest heaves helplessly and you can’t help the slick appearing in the intimate center between your thighs. Your heart pounds and you hate how much you’re liking this, his power over you. You want to answer, to say something, but the words die on your tongue and you’re unable to speak. His hands slide down your arms and move to grip your hips and waist, but unlike M’Baku’s hold on you, it’s gentle yet demanding and wanton like his eyes on you. Your thighs involuntarily clench together, desperate to get some kind of friction, pressure to your core.

He forces your legs apart with his knee and your eyes threaten to fall shut, but you keep them open, watching him look at you, now with a slight quirk of his mouth, “Are you enjoying this, my queen?”

“Shit,” you whisper. “Yes... yes I am,” you breathe out with a small, fluttering laugh, your heart leaping out of your chest and into his able grasp. You lock eyes.

The King takes both of his hands and holds your face in his gentle grasp, lips brushing ever so softly when he tilts his head forward, lips crashing like waves against your own. You’re taken back until your eyes flutter close at the tantalizing sensation of his plump lips taking you apart piece by piece. And you don’t want to be put back together. He tastes of sparkling wine and a sweetness you can only classify as him. The sweet, fleeting kiss is gentle, tentative, and asking for permission you grant when you press yourself against him, chests flushed together, hand curling up the expanse of his taut back and threading into his raven black hair. He catches your red, bottom lip between his teeth and pulls, triggering a gasp to escape your crimson painted lips and allowing his tongue entrance to your own. His hands go below your thighs and he lifts you up, your legs moving to wrap around his lean waist to steady your trembling frame. This must be a dream, you think, a crazy realistic, beautiful nightmare you never want to wake up from.

“Y/n...” he husks by your ear. “What are you doing to me?”

You feel him growing hard against you so you rotate your hips, earning a groan from the man that has your lips curling into the kiss. His wandering hands crawl up your inner thigh, nails digging into the tender flesh, before his fingers find that familiar slick between your legs. You respond with a quiet moan, head tilting back and hitting the cool glass, contrasting against the heat you two have created, a thin, sheen of sweat on your y/s/c skin. He takes the opportunity to place sloppy, open mouth kisses down your neck, across your collarbone, down your chest, tongue tracing the dips and grooves, before ripping down your dress, leaving your heaving chest in only a lace bra before him.

“T’Challa...” you smile softly, taking his face in your hands. “I really liked that dress,” you mock pout and he smirks, brown eyes glazed over with lust.

He kisses just below your ear, the corner of your jawline, “I’ll make you another. Whatever you want, my love, I will give it to you. Just say the word...”

“I want you,” you whisper, placing a chaste kiss to his lips, murmuring softly. “Right now... I want you, my king.”

He kisses the inside of your palm, “Your wish is my command, my queen,” his hands travel to your ass, carrying you over to one of the many bedrooms in the palace, kicking the door closed behind him that locks automatically.

He lays you down on the mattress, sheer, lace fabric draping from the canopy bed. The moonlight pours in from the window to the left of you and casts a milky glow on your features, shadows marking the curves he runs his hands down so wantonly. You look divine, so lustful and submissive pinned underneath him, he so desperately wants to make you his.

“You’re so beautiful...” he says quietly, voice rasped with want and desire, moving to tear open your bra with one hand, and so effortlessly at that.

“Mine,” he whispers into your skin, making lovely constellations in your skin when he kisses across your breasts.

He kneads the tender mounds, moving to mark the soft skin there with his tongue and teeth, sucking harshly on the erect peaks. He leaves love bites in his wake that everyone will surely see tomorrow, but your mind is elsewhere, you want to be his. You arch your back at the oh so pleasant feeling, and grip the sheets when he moves down your body to bunch up the remainder of your dress to reveal your dripping core.

He nips at your inner thigh, kissing and licking, with an animalistic gleam in his dark, stormy eyes, “Mine.”

He rips off your lace panties with his teeth and kisses your clit, “All mine,” his eyes flick up to meet yours, a smirk on his plump lips before sucking the bundle of nerves into his mouth, making you cry out.

He slips one, two, fingers into your wet heat, curling deliciously against you. He presses your stomach against the bed with his other hand to keep you from writhing, going to work on you with his expert tongue, licking anywhere and everywhere he has access to. And you’re close to coming undone, that familiar coil in the pit of your stomach signaling your finish, that delectable release from reality you’ve been waiting for all night.

“My King...” you breathe out. “I’m... I’m so close...”

“Look at me,” he commands, adding a third finger that makes it close to painful, tears springing to your eyes. The feeling otherworldly. “Look at me while I make you come undone. Who’s making you feel this way?”

“You...” you stammer out, too close. “T’Challa, you!”

It becomes too much to bear and you don’t hold back the screams that leave your lips, biting down to keep the remaining at bay, but failing as the immense pleasure ripples through your body. It’s the greatest thing you’ve ever felt, seeing stars in your vision when you black out from his touch, falling limp on the bed beneath him when he crawls up your body to kiss you again, situating himself between your legs. You taste yourself on his tongue and moan into his mouth

You smile wickedly when he pulls away, hair mussed, dress ripped, and makeup smudged, a glow to your skin that he can’t get enough of, “Mm... now I believe it’s your turn, your Highness.”

It was going to be a long night.

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billiejean485 · 6 years ago

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Karmiro Kiss

https://www.deviantart.com/billiejean485/art/Karmiro-Kiss-800793669

(Text from DA:)

First of all, I'd like to state something: I don't usually upload art such as this often or at all, and I rarely even show it to anyone. Reason? Been bullied a hell of a lot for it in younger years, so I learned to keep things like these to myself. However, I am pretty sure the Karmiro fans would appreciate it, and I am having a really hard time finding artwork devoted to this ship myself (kudos to Iamaddictedtocoffee and KenKic4Ever - you guys are IMO the best I could find), and I honestly wanted to contribute.

Second thing I wanted to mention is that - although the show itself made me a huge Karmiro fan, this particular piece/sketch came as an inspiration from reading Arctimon's fics. My God - for the past 6 years I've been having a really hard time finding quality fanfics (I got older, and my standards became very high), and their in particular are among those rare that make me cling to it like an idiot, rereading it until I know it by heart (still in the process of achieving that btw XD). I haven't left a review yet, but, I can say here that that level of quality English, original ideas and great imagination is not something that you just stumble upon in the fan fiction world easily. I'm blown away. Still am. Still haven't read everything, so I won't drop that mentioned review yet. But, Arctimon, if you're reading this - you have my huge support, and I'm a really big fan.

Now on to the rant on the art aspect of this sketch.

I don't have much experience in drawing a kiss, and still learning to do that. What killed me even more here is just the position (that I probably didn't even figure out well) of the two - if you have that steamy kiss where both sides try to pull each other into it, and a couple with height differences between a girl and a boy such as Hiro and Karmi, everything gets complicated. The arm position is probably off (because yours truly was lazy enough not to reference anything). I hope at least I got their faces right - I haven't drawn either of the two enough for practice. Oh, and Karmi's hair was ridiculously difficult for me; it should be simple, but nope.

Ah, yes, and the Baymax sketch in the bg - the body probably should have been a bit bigger, but 'anatomy' wise I think it's okay. I just placed him in the wrong spot. And I have a feeling that it made perspective make no sense (he's speechless, btw XD).

Okay, and two last things.

I love the fact that Hiro is the shorter one in this relationship and is probably standing on his toes somewhat here, while Karmi has to bend down and/or pull him up. It's so relatable and heart-warming. :D I remember how all that went in those years of life (14~16). Wish we'll manage to see him grow, but who knows. Also, depends what Disney plans for the sequel of the movie, if they're even planning it (it got them an Oscar, so chances are high).

But one thing that saddens me in that is that - for most characters that appear in TV shows that are based on the movie there is like a rule that they don't appear in the movie's sequel. Which brings me to the second thing.

Even though I ship them with all my heart, I see little possibilities for these two to become something more than friends (there is more chance for that happening with Hiro and Megan, although the whole Karmutie stuff has led us on to believe otherwise up until she showed up). It seems as though Hiro and Karmi's relationship was made only to reach some "good friends" climax and that that's the whole point of it. Even Karmi's crush on hero-Hiro looks more like something that came as a product of her loneliness rather than actual need for a romantic interest in her life (I think she'd be a lot more invested in her relationship with 'Captain Cutie' if this wasn't the case). And when you take into account that this is a show aimed at kids... it all makes sense. Kids don't like romantic stuff, nor do they need it. But what do they need? Learning more about friendship, especially with that girl or boy they tend to fight a lot and don't get along well. It's a perfect reason to make you think that that there will never be anything more in this relationship. But it gets on our older fans' nerves because - naturally, the characters are not kids, they're teens. Things function differently here. I mean, okay - Karmi and Hiro may not be each other's type (debatable) in the end, but you can't tell me they don't care for each other at it's base, and that they will learn to get their rivalry out of the way to make a clear path for that. And when that happens, everything's possible.

But coming back to the first thing I brought up - the characters from the TV show rarely, if ever, make it to the sequel of the movie. Which means, whatever happens with these two, they will probably split up. It's saddening, and I wish things would change there. Hey, seeing Karmi in the sequel would make who knows how many of us happy. And not just her - bunch of other characters too. Or at least give them an honorable mention.

It's because TV shows get made for kids that nothing from it gets transferred to the sequel of the movie, which gets made for audiences of all ages. If there's something I wish would change, it's that - having TV shows dumbed down for kids. And with that I mean - seeing characters a lot older act like they're children. What the heck is that teaching the little kids? That reality will never be like they saw it on TV?

Kudos, and a really big KUDOS to the shows that are tackling this particular thing. It's good and it's healthy. If you wanna make something for kids, make it really appropriate for kids. Don't tug on the nerves of us older people, because - whatever the world says, there will always be those older ones that watch cartoons, ages ranging from older teens to who knows how old. We don't like watching those dumbed down things, no matter how profitable it is for you, content-makers, to target it only for kids, who will get you the most money. Yeah, it's harder to make such stuff, we know, but it's not impossible. At least show a little effort.

But, concerning that, I can't complain on BH6's TV show anymore. The second season was fantastic so far, and those 'dumbed-down' elements were reduced to the bare minimum. I just hope it stays that way.

... Well, this was a whole lot that came out of me just because of posting one silly fangirl drawing. XD Hope some of you actually managed to read this.... Too bad all of this is going to get dumped in the Scraps' section (please make a Sketch section, DA!), like most of my uploads do.

I live and breathe sketches. lol

Oh well - thanks for coming to my Ted Talk. XD I'm really done this time.

#karmiro #karmi #hiro #big hero 6 #bh6 #tv show #disney #karmi x hiro #hirarmi #kiss #sketch #deviantart #billiejean485 #bj485 #my art

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deanssweetheart23 · 7 years ago

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Five Years Of Christmas

Title: Five Years Of Chirstmas (Mechanic!Dean AU)

Summary: 25th December 2013. Dean isn’t looking for love. In fact, he’s doing his best to steer as clear from it as possible. And then he meets her. The girl that shows up at his brother’s party only to turn his entire world upside down and makes him believe in the magic of Christmas again. So, he falls for her, falls so quickly that no one in the room even hears the sound. And that is the beginning of their story.

Author: deanssweetheart23

Characters: Dean Winchester x reader, Sam Winchester, Eileen Leahy (mentioned), Autumn Brae Winchester (OFC), Benny Laffite, Lisa Braeden (mentioned)

Word count: 8129 (it’s a monster fic, I know, but it’s worth it)

Warnings: Fluff. Angst. Some language. Implied smut. Death of parents, references to loss, grief and infedility (not Dean associated). Domestic Dean Bean (yes, totally a warning)

Author’s Notes: This is my submission for @d-s-winchester‘s 12 Days of Christmas Challenge. Ashley, thank you so, so much for letting me participate and being so kind and understanding when I asked for an extension. I hope this was worth the wait.

Also, special thank you to my amazing friend slash sunflower @trexrambling because she beta’d this entire thing and helped me figure out how to make this story better and more beautiful. This would have never been posted without her.

My prompt for this was Baby, It’s Cold Outside by Michael Bublé and Idina Menzel (I love it btw) and it’s been used both as an inspiration and a key for the plot of this fic.

Thank you all so much for sticking with me and Merry Christmas! <3

Wednesday, 25 December, 2013

Arkansas Street, Lawrence

Dean knows she’s trouble the first time he sees her.

He’s leaning against one of the bookshelves in his brother’s living room, tiny snowflakes still sprinkled across his hair, and even though there are so many things he could have noticed, the fresh evergreen branches and the printed patterned ribbons and a Christmas tree with plaid garments, she’s the first thing that catches his attention.

He finds her dancing on top of a sofa, one of her hands reaching up towards the ceiling while the other holds a mustache stick close to her upper lip, and God, she’s singing, she’s actually singing Michael Bublé’s part in Baby, It’s Cold Outside while his little niece is sitting on the floor, just a couple of feet away, giggling and clapping her hands giddily.

And though there are reindeer antlers on her head and her tiny feet are engulfed in a ridiculous pair of red and green fuzzy socks and she probably looks like a mess in that oversized Christmas sweater of hers, Dean’s sure he’s never seen anything more radiant in his life.

It’s there, in the way she moves and laughs and sings so completely out of tune, in the way her eyes shine, alive with a warmth Dean has never seen in a stranger’s eyes before, in the way she just lives in the moment, and everything else around her ceases to exist.

He’s smitten.

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” Sam’s voice crawls deep into his thoughts, and he’s so lost in his own little world, so lost in her, that he doesn’t understand what is happening until he hears himself humming in response.

His brother chuckles.

He turns to look at him, chin jutted in offense.

“Dude, don’t gimme that look. You were obviously staring.”

“Shut up.” A pause. Eyes glancing towards her again. “Who is she, anyway?”

“Eileen’s roommate from college. Just moved back from Italy.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah.” Sam smirks, patting his brother on the back. “Totally single, by the way.”

A groan.

Eyes rolled skywards.

“What?”

“Man, you got to stop trying to hook me up with friends of your wife.”

“I’m not, I swear,” Sam huffs out, hands thrown up in surrender. “All I’m saying is, she’s kind and smart and I like her. And,” -he jabs a finger at her direction- “Autumn Brae loves her.”

Dean shakes his head a bit then and lets his eyes drift back to the fascinating girl with the lively eyes, the girl that dances with his niece and blows Eskimo kisses on her nose and tickles her sides.

Her eyes dart up and meet his and she smiles.

She doesn’t know him, she’s never even spoken to him before, but she smiles like she does, like he’s a dear friend, a smile that’s all softness and sweetness and sunshine.

He nods at her, “Nice mustache.” He smirks before he can stop himself.

Her cheeks flush pink.

She bits her bottom lip and he’s sure she’s going to look away but-

“Nice smile,” she retorts.

And he’d give anything to come up with something smart to say, he’d give anything to impress her and smirk and flirt in that way he knows makes women swoon but, somehow, he feels like that’s not nearly enough with her.

He makes sure to sit next to her at the dinner table that night.

Friday, 27 December, 2013

Merriam Ln, Kansas City

Dean had stopped looking for love a long time ago.

He used to, once, back when he was younger and the world was much simpler, a place swirled around his parents’ fiery glances and their inside jokes and a love so profound he thought nothing and no one would be able to conquer it.

He’s seen enough since then though, has seen too much, and knows that true love does fall apart, and the world is a pretty crappy place and there’s no justice, no magic in it, just like there’s no point in falling in love just to get your heart broken in the process.

Because he had had his heart broken. And ripped out of his chest. And stood up at the altar.

So, yes.

Dean’s not looking for love anymore.

But as he sees the way Y/N’s eyes shine in the dim light of his car, its soft glow dancing across textures and shades and edges he so desperately wants to trace with his fingers, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, he’s found it anyway.

“Are you sure this is edible?” Y/N asks after a few seconds, voice laced with a bit of uncertainty as she squints suspiciously at the paper box of Poutine in front of her.

They’re at a drive-in movie theater, slumped in the front seats of the Impala, and she’s got one of those blankets he keeps at the trunk of his car wrapped around her because she is always too cold for her own sake.

She looks like a burrito.

The thought makes him smile.

“Kid, I’m telling you this is one of the best street foods in America right now.”

“Yes, but is it safe? Because it looks like-”

“A mess. Yes, that’s the whole point. Just,” he spreads his hands and locks eyes with her, wide and pleading, “try it.”

She pouts, brows furrowed into a curious scowl. “Okay. But if something happens to me-”

“You’ll serenade me to death with Baby, It’s Cold Outside. Yeah, okay.”

She groans and rolls her eyes, but he can see the brightness there, can see the amusement and the playfulness as she takes a reluctant bite.

Silence and then-

“Oh my God,” she moans, looking up at him, “dude, this tastes like heaven.”

He chuckles, a rich, loose chuckle that dances in the empty space of his car and nestles between them.

“You like it then?” he asks, hopeful and pleased and just a tad cheeky.

“Do I like it? S’ so –how did you even know about this?”

He shrugs, something nonchalant, and hands her a cold beer.

“Got a buddy that spent a couple of years in Canada before moving here. He’s the one that told me to try it out.”

She nods and takes a swig from her beer. “Did he also suggest taking me ice-skating on the first date?”

A groan.

Eyes rolled skywards.

“You’re never going to let me hear the end of that, are you?”

“Nope.”

“Well, for the record, I’m actually terrific at ice skating.”

“Obviously.” She shakes her head, raises her brow a bit. “I mean, that fall on the ice was definitely terrific.”

“Hey,” he groans, pursing his lips, “I was just trying to keep you entertained.”

“And you almost lost a leg in the process.” She snorts. But then. “Seriously though. I had a really good time today.”

And though she’s fidgeting as the words come out, he can tell it’s a genuine statement, and he smiles, just a tug of his lips upwards, but so thankful, so heartfelt.

“Hmmm. Sounds like someone’s impressed.”

She laughs.

Her lips curl up in a smirk.

“Or. This could be the booze talking.”

“Oh, yeah, blame it on the beer, you lightweight.”

More laughter and eyes that shine brighter than any star he’s ever seen.

Fingers that tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

God, he really wants to kiss her.

He clears his throat, quietly.

“What?” she asks, nervous half-smile playing at the corner of her lips.

“Nothing, I’m just,” he scratches the back of his neck, “m’ glad Eileen invited you to that Christmas dinner.”

She beams and Jesus Christ, it’s brilliant.

“Me too.” Her fingers brush up against his. “She’s…. She’s just amazing, you know? She’s the only college friend that actually stayed in touch after I moved to Italy. And she’s been so helpful since I moved back.”

Dean nods, mind drifting to Eileen and how selfless and loving and accepting she is, how hard she tried to win him over when she started dating his brother, how she loves him like he’s family and makes Sam happier than he’s ever seen him.

“Yeah, she’s pretty awesome.”

“Runs in the family, doesn’t it?”

He chuckles, but it’s bitter and darker than before.

“I dunno about that, kid.” He thumbs the label on his beer bottle. “I come with a lot of baggage. Eileen, uh…” He rubs at his forehead. “She said Sam’s told you about Lisa.”

The muscles in her face tighten.

She knits her brows in a frown.

“I didn’t ask him, if that’s what you think. I mean, I might have asked about you, but not like –Sam only wanted-”

“Hey,” he soothes, placing his hand on her arm gently, “’s okay. I’d rather you didn’t know that my fiancée dumped me at the altar for someone else, obviously, but it’s not like it’s your fault my brother can’t keep his mouth shut.”

“It wasn’t like that. Autumn Brae...” She sighs, eyes going a bit narrow. “She was going through some photos of their wedding and there was a picture of you and Lisa there and-”

“It doesn’t matter,” he tells her firmly, but his jaw still clenches a bit. “That was years ago, but she just… What happened with her really messed me up, kid. And m’ still probably not as great as Sam and Eileen paint me to be.”

“Yeah, well. I’m not Little Miss Sunshine either.” She snorts and pushes some hair off her face. “I got plenty of issues I need to work on. Family stuff, personal crap I need to deal with, all that jazz. But. That’s conversation for like, the sixth date, so…”

“Sixth date, huh?”

“M’ willing to bribe you with homemade Italian cuisine. Hell, I’ll even add my famous tiramisu to the mix if you’re willing to put up with me that long.” She grins. “What do ya think?”

He smirks then, and leans closer, close enough that he can feel the heat that’s radiating off her. He tries hard not to think how much he wants to lose himself in it, and reaches for her hand, small and soft in his large one.

She looks up.

“Wild horses couldn’t drag me away, sweetheart,” he whispers, and she flushes, lips trembling into a shy, radiant smile.

He never once pays attention to the movie when it starts.

Monday, 30 December, 2013

Tennessee Street, Lawrence

Dean’s in way over his head.

He has known it from the very beginning, has known it from the moment he locked eyes with her and felt like a part of him had returned home, but it’s only getting clearer, only getting more evident now that they’re walking around the crowded Christmas market trying to find a present for his niece, and every time he catches her staring he just wants to lean over and kiss her until he can’t breathe anymore.

The Polaroid flashes for what feels like the hundredth time that day, pulling him out of his thoughts.

He groans.

“What?” she asks, a nervous chuckle escaping her.

“You do realize I know you just took a picture of me, right?”

She smiles then and, even though it’s nervous, there’s a glow to it that does funny things to his heart.

“Always so observant, Sherlock.” She waits for the photo to print, then hands it to him. “Here. S’ a good one.”

It really is a good one.

“So, I take it you like photography?”

“Kinda, yeah.” She gnaws on her bottom lip. “I, um… I actually wanted to become a photographer when I was a kid.”

And he’s not sure whether he’s supposed to ask but-

“Why didn’t you?”

She sighs, lets her eyes drift to the floor for a second.

“Y/N, look, you don’t have to-”

“My parents… I’m not sure whether Sam’s told you anything about them but they’re very difficult people. Very frigid, very driven. They, uh,” she laughs, but it’s harsh and there’s a darkness in it that hadn’t been there before, “run one of the most prestigious business companies in Kansas so, having a photographer daughter just didn’t fit into the kind of high profile they wanted to keep.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, I know.” She rocks back and forth on her heels a little, seemingly thinking about something. “There was this program… I got accepted into it after I graduated high school. My parents and I got into a terrible fight about it so, I ended up getting into Princeton instead.” She gulps, head tilted to the right. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, Princeton was great, and I love the job I have now but…”

“Your relationship with your parents was never quite the same,” he whispers, careful to keep his voice void of all emotion.

She nods, bottom lip wobbling.

“We were never close, but,” she runs a hand over her face, “they’ve been crappier and way more judgmental about my life choices since then. Which is why I spent the past five years working in Italy. Hiding is easier than dealing with them, sometimes.”

His jaw clenches.

He tries hard not to think about the scars those people have left on her, tries hard not to think that they might match his, despite the fact he’d grieved for the loss of his parents after they died in a car accident, while she’d grieved for the loss of hers whilst they were still alive.

Maybe that was worse.

“Well,” Dean mumbles and lets his fingers lace with hers, then grips, “for the record, I think they have no idea what they’re missing out on.”

She cracks a small, shadowy smile. “Thanks, D,” She whispers. Her eyes drift to the Polaroid he’s still holding. “You should keep that one.”

“Kid, I-”

She takes a step closer to him, purses her lips in a pout.

“Please?”

He chuckles.

God, how can he say no to her?

“Okay, but,” he tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and lets his knuckles brush against her skin for just a second, “I want to see the rest, too, if that’s alright.”

“The rest?”

He grins and it’s all mischief and brightness. “Everything you got,” he says.

“Dean, you don’t have to do that.”

“I want to. Over dinner at my house. I’ll even let you buy me ice cream.”

“How considerate of you.”

“Just be glad I’m a cheap date, sweetheart.” He smirks and she laughs.

He knows then, knows with a certainty that’s beyond him and seeps into his bones, into his very marrow, that he’ll never fall deeper in love with a laugh.

He kisses her outside the ice cream parlor that same evening.

Thursday 25 December 2014

Massachusetts Street, Lawrence

Dean can’t take his eyes off her.

They’re strolling down the snow-covered streets together, surrounded by Christmas lights and large, fluffy flakes of whiteness, and still, all he sees, all he can see is the soft girl in his arms, the one that marched into his life a year ago and turned it upside down just by being in it.

“Are you sure Sam and Eileen were okay with us leaving so early?” Y/N asks, biting the inside of her cheek nervously.

He snorts out a laugh. “Oh, please. Benny and the Harvelles were still there. They won’t even notice we’re gone.”

Y/N arches an eyebrow at his response but he just chuckles and presses a kiss on the top of her head, lips brushing against the fabric of the burgundy beanie she’s wearing.

“We should have stayed a bit longer. Eileen worked so hard to make this dinner perfect.”

“And it was. But as much as I enjoyed getting my nails painted by Autumn Brae, I’d like to spend the rest of my time doing very adult things with you,” he gloats. “’Sides. We’re having breakfast with your parents first thing in the morning, remember?”

“Yeah, I’m actually trying to forget that,” she deadpans, brows furrowed in a scowl. “Do we really have to go? S’ not like they’ll care.”

And he knows she doesn’t want to sound bitter, knows she tries very hard not to let the venom that’s been poisoning her seep into her voice, but she does because she’s so tired of trying to win a battle that’s already been lost, tired of trying to make the two people that are supposed to love her unconditionally actually care about her.

So, he shakes his head and wears the fakest smile he’s ever worn in front of her.

“You know they will,” he says, squeezing her hand tight into his.

“D. -”

“Look,” he starts, “they’re not my favorite people in the world, alright? I know they got tons of flaws and they made lots of mistakes and they never valued you enough.” The muscle in his jaw twitches, but he just licks his lips and carries on, “But they’re trying, kid.”

“Are they? Because they’ve been treating you-”

“—c’mon, don’t go there.”

“No, Dean. They’ve been treating you like crap for months,” she retorts, and though Dean knows she’s trying to keep her emotions at bay, they’re tumbling out of her very soul, illustrated in the way she clenches her jaw and juts her chin.

“They have been nasty about your job and your family and the fact you didn’t go to college so that your brother could, and I’m just –you don’t deserve that because you’ve been,” she lets out a nervous chuckle and spreads her hands in a spread-armed shrug, “you’ve been everything I could ever ask for and-”

“Hey,” Dean whispers, titling her chin, “breathe.”

He gives her a second, lets her frustration burn out until all the angry things she wants to say are swallowed up by the crispy night air.

And then.

“I don’t give a rat’s ass what your parents think of me,” he tells her, but there’s no hatred there, no bitterness or pain or tartness. Just the truth, spoken into the darkness only for her to hear.

“Not when I got you. I wish we could get along, obviously, because they’re your parents and you’re –you’re too important to me. But this.” He laces their fingers together and brings their joined hands to his lips. “God, this is the best thing that has ever happened to me.” He kisses her knuckles sweetly. “And I’m not letting them ruin it.”

She smiles, and it’s a smile he’s seen there before on afternoons spent by the fireplace with Vonnegut books and wine flavored kisses, in between tangled sheets and mornings when they wash each other in the shower, fingers running leisurely through shampooed hair, and in those nights they spend making lazy love like it’s the first and the last time.

It’s the smile that lets him know he’s not the only one feeling this way.

It’s the smile he loves.

“So,” he drags his fingers through her hair, “you and I are going to go out with them tomorrow, and we’re going to have fun and whisper inappropriate things to each other until they give us that murderous look you hate so much.” He smirks, all spark and playfulness. “And then, we’re going to come back home, and I’ll give you that gift I’ve been bugging you about.”

A lazy grin spreads across her face.

“So, you’ll just wear that pair of godawful Santa boxers you bought from the mall and dance for me?”

He lets out a loose chuckle, green eyes sparkling in mischief as his mind drifts to the new professional camera that’s wrapped in a plaid patterned roll, just waiting for her under his Christmas tree.

“Well, that wasn’t the plan, but if you’re into that kind of thing, I’m sure we can-”

“Shut up.” She whines and smacks his chest, trying to push him away.

He wraps his arms around her middle, firmly.

“C’mere, kid.” He cups her face with his large hands. “You’re cute when you blush, you know that?”

“Am not. M’ vicious and scary.”

“Hmmm,” he nuzzles her nose, leaning in, “so vicious, tiger.”

He kisses her then, lets his mouth brush up against hers, all purpose and fire, and smiles when he realizes he can taste the apple pie they’ve shared earlier, can feel the Tennessee Whiskey she’s been drinking on her lips.

“So,” he beams when it’s all over, hands precariously low on her back, “everything you could ever ask for, huh?”

“Well, yes,” she grins, “I love you, D.” She traces his jawline with her thumb. “Christmas Grinch and all.”

“Pffft. M’ so not a Christmas Grinch.”

A chuckle.

Lips curved into a smirk.

“Sure you’re not, old man.”

“Old man?” he growls out as he lets go of her, eyes drifting to a pile of snow beside him. “Careful, sweetheart. You don’t wanna poke the bear now, do you?”

She breathes out air through her nose, hand on her hip.

“M’ not poking the bear. I’m poking the Grinch,” she says with a brilliant, unwavering grin.

“Oh, you’re in for it now, you brat,” he hisses, reaching out for a handful of snow, smashing it in his hands.

“Dean, don’t you dare.”

“What, you’re scared now?” he asks, heat dancing in his eyes. “You were such a smart mouth just a few seconds ago, baby.”

“Dean, I’m warning you. If you throw that snow –you jerk!” she shouts as the ball crushes right against her chest, flecks of snow dotting her coat and the Y/H/C of her hair, but he just laughs because he isn’t even sure he’s played in the snow before.

She reciprocates after that, allows the snow to fly back and forth until their clothes are soaked, and they’re exhausted and limbless and frosted to their very bones.

She never stops though, wild laughter spilling from her lips as she runs away from him to collect more ammo, and he sees a chance and takes it, lunges for her and pins her to the ground with him.

And he’s sure the fall must have been painful, but she blinks, a pleased, half-smile spreading across her lips, lighting him up like a firework.

Leaning closer, he holds her hands above her head and takes everything in, the flushed cheeks and the snow-painted eyelashes and those brilliant eyes that look at him like no other eyes ever had.

He feels alive.

“What?”

He feels them then, feels those three little words he’s never told anyone since Lisa ready to slip out of his mouth and nestle into her softness and, this time, he’s not afraid, not willing to hold them back.

“I love you,” he whispers, and she beams, like he’s just whispered the words to her old favorite song.

It’s the happiest moment of his life.

Friday, 25 December, 2015

Karl Johans Gate, Oslo

Dean’s never been abroad before.

He’s never been particularly fond of the idea, never really cared to see what was beyond the little world he’d built for himself because he was content, he was safe there.

And then she came along.

Y/N waltzed into his life with her ugly Christmas sweater and her ridiculous fuzzy socks and brought with her colors and feelings and love, the love he’d given up on, the love he thought he’d never deserve again, and let them wrap around him like a vine until they seeped into his veins, into his very being and became a part of him.

He’s felt it before, felt that change creeping in through stolen kisses and drunken nights at Irish pubs, and he feels it again now that he’s leaned against the wall of one of the oldest hotel rooms in Oslo and watches in amusement as Y/N stands in the balcony and leans over slightly so she can take the perfect picture of the frozen landscape.

Joining her outside, he wraps his arms around her waist quietly and presses a soft kiss on that spot where her neck meets her shoulder.

“Taking pictures already, aren’t we?”

With a hum, Y/N lets the camera hang from the strap around her neck. “Well, we have to fill that scrapbook somehow.”

“You mean the one that’s already been filled?”

She snorts, placing her hands over his and squeezing. “No, I mean the one I just bought, smartass.”

“Hmmm,” he mumbles, brushing his nose against her neck, “go on then.”

“Yeah, I can’t if you keep that up.”

The words come out in a whine, but he feels her shiver against him, hears the way the breath hitches in her throat and her heart beats just a little faster and loves the fact that, after two years, he still has that effect on her.

“Seriously, s’ distracting.”

He smirks, eyes crinkling at the corners.

“What, that?” He trails kisses up the column of her neck leisurely. “Or maybe, it’s this,” he gloats, hands wandering lower, to that junction of her thigh and hip.

A groan.

Shaky breaths.

“D., cut it out.”

More kisses.

“D., I’m serious,” she warns, finally managing to turn around and face him. “We don’t have time for this.”

“Says who?”

“You,” she says, clasping her hands around his waist with a coy smile. “You promised you’d take me to the Christmas market today. And I want to see Ibsen’s house. And go to the National Gallery. And try the potato pancakes.”

“Well, yes, but,” he takes the camera off her carefully and places it on the table next to him, then walks until he’s got her pinned against the wall, “we could totally do that later in case you, ya know, want to show me how grateful you are for this trip.”

She laughs then, and he swears it’s the sunniest sound he’s ever heard.

“Real smooth, Mr. Winchester.”

He grins and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, eyes light and bright as they flicker across her face.

“Well, not everyone can be as smooth as you, Fuzzy Socks.”

She rolls her eyes, but he still sees through her, sees the smile she’s trying to hide.

“You’re an ass, you know that?”

“Yes,” he brushes his mouth against hers, sweet and drifting, “but you love me.”

The corner of her mouth pulls up.

Her eyes lock onto his, something sincere.

“Yeah,” she whispers, hands trailing up around the back of his neck, “I do. I really do.”

And he wishes there were enough words to explain how much that little sentence means to him, what she means to him, but they never are, so he just leans in and presses his lips against hers, pours everything he feels into a kiss that’s gentler than rose petals and warmer than the first day of summer.

They pull away, breathless but sated.

“Listen, I have...” he lets his head drop on her shoulder, then swallows, hard. “I have an idea. But it’s insane.”

“Your ideas are always insane.”

“Oh, yeah?”

She kisses his jaw, fingertips grazing the back of his neck. “Yeah.”

Rough, calloused hands caress her cheeks.

“Wanna hear it then?”

“Hmmm.”

He lets out a soft laugh and leans in, until his mouth is inches away from her ear.

And then.

“Let’s get married,” he says.

Her jaw almost drops to the ground.

For a second, there’s nothing but silence, eerie and white silence dancing in the air between them, save from the sounds of strangers passing by the street in front the hotel, laughing and shouting and chatting.

He blinks, second-guesses himself.

“Dean, is this –do you mean this?”

“’Course I do, kid. C’mon,” a small kiss, “follow me.”

Taking her hand in his, he leads her inside the room and reaches for his duffel bag, fingers wrapping around a little velvet box.

“Here,” he waits until she snaps the box open to reveal a simple diamond ring with a platinum twisted band, “it, uh… This was my mum’s.”

“Dean-”

“No, just –I’ve been carrying this with me everywhere for months because I hoped.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I love you,” he says. “I love you so much that is scares me sometimes, and I don’t,” he sighs, and squeezes her fingers, “God, kid, I don’t want to wait anymore.”

She smiles, sparkling and rosy and real.

“Then don’t.”

A skipped heartbeat.

Brows furrowed in puzzlement.

“Does that mean that-”

“I’ll marry you? I dunno, D. Why don’t you ask me again?”

He doesn’t hesitate this time.

He just looks at her, at the girl he wants to spend the rest of his life with, and lets go.

“Marry me.”

“Yes,” she kisses him, “yes,” -kiss-“yes,” -kiss- “yes,” -kiss- “yes, I’ll marry you, you ass.”

It’s all heat and need and secret smiles after that, ragged breaths and lingering touches the only thing he can focus on until he lays her on the bed and makes love to her like he’s never made love to her before, whispering praises and sweet nothings and tender nonsense into her ear.

She follows him over the edge a million kisses later, then holds onto him, hides her face in the crook of his shoulder as he crashes on her and laughs, and it’s all because of him.

“Man,” he brushes sweaty locks of hair off her face, “merry Christmas to us.”

She chuckles, the sound vibrating into his lungs.

“I thought you didn’t like Christmas.”

He shifts a little then, presses his lips on her forehead.

“I do now,” he beams.

He’s the luckiest man on Earth.

Sunday, 25 December, 2016

Kentucky Street, Lawrence

Dean doesn’t deserve her.

He knows she’s too good for him, he’s always known it, but somehow has managed to bury the thought deep within the fragments of his soul.

It still hits him sometimes, though, hits him in the least expected moments, when he steals glances of her getting ready for work or when she’s asleep next to him in the mornings, hair a bird’s nest, smile soft and serene, and he swears that he’s never seen anything more perfect in his life.

It’s there then and it’s here now that her parents’ disapproval is getting to him again and her mum’s words are echoing soundlessly in his mind, a horrifying mantra.

You’re going to be her downfall.

How can she say that? How can she even think that when she knows that Dean would give everything, his job and his life, his very soul, to make her daughter happy? How can she say that when he’s spent the past year working double shifts just to give Y/N the wedding he knows she’s always dreamt of, even though she’d told him time and time again that all she wants is to marry him, pomp and circumstance be damned?

Y/N enters the kitchen, dressed in his light grey sweater, the one he bought to impress her parents the first time he met them, and even though he’d normally be unable to take his eyes off her bare legs or that soft spot on her neck that’s still bruised from his ministrations, now his eyes are locked on hers, on how puffy and swollen they look.

His heart clenches in his chest when he realizes it’s because of the fight they had the night before when he discovered that she was offered a position for a photography program in Paris and had declined it –for him, because of him- and never told him.

He’d been mad then, mad she didn’t tell him anything, mad that she’d given up on something so big for his sake without even asking him.

“Hey,” he rasps out.

He wishes he had something better to say, but he doesn’t.

Jesus, he hates fighting with her.

“Hi.” An awkward pause. Eyes that look anywhere but him. “Uh, can we talk?”

He blinks.

“Yeah,” he runs a hand over his face, “yeah, let’s do that.”

She nods, a thankful, relieved nod, and licks her lips.

“I’m sorry,” she mutters, and it’s weak and shaky and genuine. “I should have told you about Paris. I just… God, I’m an idiot.” She wraps her arms around her middle, a self-deprecating laugh escaping her.

“Y/N-”

“I never applied for that program,” she says, like she doesn’t hear him, like she doesn’t notice how her name leaves his lips in a prayer. “One of the instructors just happened to be at that exhibition I did in Kansas last summer. He liked my work, so-”

“So, he offered you a position in it.”

“Yeah. And my mum was here the day he called, or I wouldn’t have told her, trust me.”

His forehead puckers.

“I know. But why,” he lets out a brittle chuckle and shakes his head, “why didn’t you tell me?”

And it’s just a simple question, but it’s laced with wounded pride and concern and a heart that’s been painfully scarred far too many times and he knows, the moment the words leave his lips, he knows she sees it, too.

“Because I said I wouldn’t go. And I didn’t want you to worry over something that wouldn’t happen.” She ducks her head, juts her chin a bit. “And I was wrong, and I could come up with a million excuses, but you don’t deserve that.” She doesn’t look up at him, “You deserve an apology.”

“I don’t want an apology,” he says, flinging his hands up. “I want you to trust me. I want you to not let me make the same mistakes your parents did.”

“But I don’t want to go. Not this time.” She presses her mouth into a thin line, fights with herself for a few fleeting seconds. “Dean, I love photography, but it’s not what I want to do for a living anymore. Because I love my life here. Because I love you.” She crushes the heel of her hands over her eyes. “God, D., I love you more than anything in the world and I know sometimes you –I don’t want you to think you’re not enough for me. That having you isn’t enough to make me happy. Because it is.”

“Jesus Christ, that’s just,” he runs a hand over his face, “c’mere, kid.”

She walks closer to him and reaches out to touch him, letting him lace their fingers together.

“Do you know I used to hate that ridiculous Michael Bublé song until I met you?”

“You did?”

He chuckles, just a little under his breath, and curls an arm around her waist, pulling her close.

“Yeah, but then…” He takes in a deep breath and smiles, all love and longing for the memories waltzing in his mind. “Then I saw you dancing to it that night and… Now every time I listen to it, all I can think about is how it made me fall in love with the craziest woman I know.”

“Hey,” she whines, smacking his arm, and he laughs and tightens his grip around her, “m’ not crazy.”

“Yes, you are, kid.” He tilts her chin up. “And I love that about you.” A kiss that’s fleeting, soft and fragrant. “And that’s why I’m going to ask you to think about that offer again.”

“Dean-”

“Nope.” He clasps a hand at the side of her face. “Just listen to me for a sec. I know photography’s just a hobby. But you’re too good at it. And this is a pretty great opportunity.”

“But-”

“I want you to go.”

“D., we’re getting married in four months. The program starts in August.”

“Yeah, well. We can reschedule. It’s a six months program, right?”

“Yes, but-”

“Then we’re having a Christmas wedding. Next year.” He leans in, nuzzles her neck. “What do you think?”

She leans against him, fingers curled around the fabric of his shirt.

“How did I ever get so lucky with you?”

“I got no idea, but,” he braces his forehead against hers, lets his arms wander under the sweater she’s wearing, “you’re about to get luckier in about, uh, five maybe six minutes?”

She barks out a laugh, nose nuzzled against his.

“God, I love you.” she whispers.

“So, that’s a yes?”

“It’s not that simple.”

“It is.” He kisses her and this time it’s all depth and desperation and need. “It is if you promise you’ll come back to me.”

It’s the only moment he allows his walls to crack, the only moment he lets his armor down and lets her see him, see through him, through his fears and worries and tears, and she smiles.

“I’ll always come back, D.”

That’s more than he could have ever asked for.

Wednesday, 11 October, 2017

Rue des Francs Bourgeois, Paris

Dean can see why she likes Paris so much.

He can see it from the moment he sets foot on the City of Lights, can see it when he feels that last ray of daylight dance across his skin and knows that it’s somehow different, somehow brighter than the ones that cast light to his own world, back at Lawrence.

And he feels it, too.

There’s a fascinating kind of frenzy strapped to every street, every boulevard and cathedral and café he passes, and he can easily picture her flowing out of the bookstalls, with a newspaper and a croissant in hand, hurrying to get to the Louvre or to Seine.

A smile plays across his lips at the thought.

He misses her. It’s only been two months since the last time he kissed her lips, only two months since he held her in his arms, solid and concrete and warm, and yet, he feels like there’s a vibrant part of him missing.

Tonight, though…

Tonight, he’s going to surprise her.

He hadn’t thought about it until she called, almost a week ago, and sounded so tired and troubled that Dean lost a night’s sleep over it. She said she’d only had a bad day, of course, but he’d been worried and so, with the first opportunity he got, he booked a last-minute flight, bought her a stuffed teddy bear and flew to Paris.

He’s just purchased a bottle of her favorite wine from a little liquor store right across the street from her apartment when he sees them.

Y/N kissing someone else.

The man’s hands digging into her hips.

And for a moment, he’s so absolutely stunned and startled, so shocked that he refuses to believe what he’s seeing is real, refuses to believe that that girl is Y/N, his Y/N, but it’s written in the smoothness of her skin, in the radiance of her presence.

His stomach churns.

He lets the stuffed animal drop to the ground, mud painting its limbs.

“Monsier,” a young man asks him softly, taking a step towards him. “Ça va bien?”

Dean blinks away the tears, eyes glancing back to where Y/N and that, that man were.

They’re gone.

And Dean wants to do so many things, wants to punch a wall and smash every single bottle in that cellar, wants to go upstairs and beat the crap out of that punk that’s kissing his fiancée, wants to take her in his arms and yell at her and kiss her and ask her why, to run and scream and cry, he wants to know why she’d do that to him, and wants to ask someone, anyone, why he’s not enough, why he’s never enough, but there’s no life, no fight in him left.

“Monsier,” the man asks again, brown eyes gazing upon him with concern.

Dean lets out a ragged breath and shakes his head.

“I’m fine,” he says, running a hand over his face. And then again, if only so he can fool himself. “I’m fine.”

She tries to skype with him a few hours later.

He doesn’t answer.

Wednesday, 18 October, 2017

Sunnyside Avenue, Lawrence

Dean hasn’t talked to her in a week.

She’s called and texted and tried to skype more times than he can count, but he just keeps ignoring her, keeps pretending that it doesn’t break his heart every time he sees her smile on his screen and has to let it ring, let it go to voicemail like her effort means nothing to him.

Like she means nothing to him.

But that’s not the case. Because Y/N is still everything to him, no matter what she did, no matter how much he wants to hate her.

He can’t.

He can’t because for every second that kiss lasted there’s a good memory of her, a smile she smiled just for him, a laugh shared over spilled coffee, a soft whisper pulled out of her lips in the moments he spent plugged deep into her, an inside joke, a loving glance.

And then he doubts himself and he doubts her and everything he saw because he’s felt her love so deeply, felt her love interweaving itself so thoroughly into his existence, into the strings of his life that he can’t understand how she could do that to him.

“Benny,” Dean chokes out, waggling his fingers, “I want another round.”

“Yeah, that ain’t gonna happen, brother. M’ tired of dragging your drunk ass home every night,” Benny says, tossing the rag on the counter. He lets one, two, three seconds pass and then. “Have you talked to her?”

“C’mon, man, don’t-”

“Have you talked to her?”

Dean clenches his jaw.

His fingers wrap tighter around the pint glass.

“No.”

“Go talk to your fiancée, Chief.”

“She’s not,” his voice breaks, “don’t call her that.”

“How much of an idiot can you be?” Sam’s gruff voice startles him, and he turns around to find his brother walking towards him with long strides, fury dancing in his features.

“Sam, what the-”

“Y/N called me,” he states, the muscle in his jaw twitching. “She was crying. Said you haven’t called her in a week.”

Dean swallows, hard.

His eyes drift to the floor.

“We, uh… We’re dealing with some stuff.”

“Some stuff?” Sam repeats, incredulous. “Some stuff? Jesus Christ, Dean, she thinks you’ve been in an accident.”

And he knows it doesn’t make any sense, but his heart breaks all over again when he realizes she’s hurting.

“Sam.”

“She’s been calling every hospital in Lawrence, you ass.”

“Sam.”

“Why would you-”

“She’s seeing someone else!” He shouts, a shout that’s all bitterness and anger and heartache.

A few heads turn his way.

He can’t bring himself to care.

“She’s seeing someone else,” he says again, and this time the words are laced with unshed tears and wordless whys.

He expects Sam to apologize then, to stumble over his words, but instead.

“She’s not.”

Dean huffs out air through his nose, not quite a laugh.

“Sam, I saw them. They were kissing and-”

“If you had bothered to pick up your phone when she called, you’d know that the guy kissed her. He was drunk. She punched him and called his friend to take him home.”

“She --that guy-”

“The guy had been flirting with her for weeks. She told him she was engaged. He obviously couldn’t take no for an answer.”

Each word his brother speaks is like a slap in the face, leaving nothing but bruises and cuts and wounds as it pierces through his skin.

“I don’t understand…”

“She gave me the guy’s number. She gave me his friend’s number. Apparently, Eileen knew about this, but didn’t say anything because Y/N didn’t want you to worry.” He pauses, lets his words sink in. “She’s telling the truth, Dean.”

Dean’s bottom lip trembles.

The lump in his throat tastes like hope and guilt and shame.

He calls her thirty minutes later, and when she doesn’t answer he does it again and again and again.

She never picks up.

Monday, 25 December, 2017

Kentucky Street, Lawrence

Dean keeps a picture of her in his wallet.

It’s one of those photographs that never made it into their scrapbooks because she absolutely hates the way she looks in it, nose red and hair wild and unruly from the wind. He’d taken it in Norway, a day after he proposed, while she’d been staring at some kids that were playing next to them in the snow, and every time he looks at it he’s reminded of brilliant smiles and frozen kisses and whispered promises in the darkness of their room.

It’s been two months since the last time he saw her, two months since they broke up, and he still can’t believe he’s lost her.

Part of him thinks he’s going to open the door one day and find her there, asleep on the couch, or that he’ll walk into the kitchen and she’ll wrap his arms around his middle and step on her toes to kiss him and ruffle his hair like he’s a little kid.

He still turns around every time he hears a camera flash, still thinks it’s her trying to steal pictures of him like she used to do, and on the nights he’s had too much to drink he believes she’ll crawl into bed with him and he’ll get to touch her again, get to feel her sleep next to him.

But that never happens, so, he drinks a bit more and smiles a bit less and tries to get by.

And he loathes himself. He loathes his own stupidity and his fear and his pride because he did the one thing he swore he’d never do, because he let his scars define him, let Lisa and what she did to him ruin the one good thing in his life.

And then there’s a knock on the door one day.

With a sigh, he heads for the entrance of his house and swings the door open, ready to tell Sam that yes, he is sure he doesn’t want to have dinner with him and no, he doesn’t need a baby sitter because he’s a grown ass man, but-

“Hi,” an all too familiar voice says.

He freezes, then blinks.

She’s still there.

“Y/N,” he says, “hey.”

She smiles, something nervous and awkward, and every atom, every cell in his body screams at him to kiss her.

He doesn’t.

“You, uh… You look beautiful,” he whispers. “I mean, you always do but Paris… Paris looks good on you.”

Her cheeks flush a light shade of pink. “Thank you.”

One, two, three long minutes pass.

They just stare at each other.

And then.

“So, Sam,” he scratches the back of his neck, lets his eyes drift to the door, “he said you’d spend the holidays in Paris.”

“I was going to, but…” She shakes her head a little, gnaws on her bottom lip. “We were supposed to get married today.”

“I know,” he says, hoping she can’t taste his heartache on her tongue.

She laughs and God, it’s so broken.

“We really screwed this up, didn’t we?”

“Y/N-”

“No, I was… I was at that little café in Paris yesterday and Baby, It’s Cold Outside started playing and I remembered,” she sucks in a breath, but the words that leave her mouth are still wrecked and choked and fragile like porcelain, “I remembered how it made an amazing man fall in love with me. And I know it’s too late, that I’m too late, but… I miss you.”

Dean’s breath hitches in his throat.

She misses him.

It’s that simple.

It’s that complicated.

It’s everything he needed to hear.

“And I know I should have called. And I still can’t believe you think I’d cheat on you but-”

“You miss me,” he breathes out, and he can’t even remember the last time three little words had meant so much to him.

“I do.” The wind blows cold on her face then and prompts her scarf to sway, revealing the diamond ring that’s hanging from a chain around her neck. “I always do.”

And there are a million things he wants to say then, a million things he needs to say, but he doesn’t, because for the first time in two months, he knows he still has time, knows it’s still not over.

So, he settles for the first words that come into mind.

“It’s cold out here, isn’t it?”

She shoots him a bemused look.

Her brow furrows in a frown.

“It’s...cold?”

“Yeah,” he says, running a hand over his face, “you should come inside. I just finished lighting up the fireplace and everything.”

And this time, she understands.

This time, she smiles, and it’s a smile that takes him back to the start, back to the first time they locked eyes and he realized she was it for him.

“Are you sure?” she asks.

He doesn’t answer.

Instead, he reaches out for her, lets his calloused hand slide against her own and grips.

And when she beams, he knows.

They’ll always find their way back to each other.

Tags: @ravengirl94 @jpadjackles @supernatural-jackles @thevioletthourr @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @torn-and-frayed @trexrambling @percywinchester27 @hannahindie @escabell @emilywritesaboutdean @atwistoffate @atari-writes @kathaswings @atc74 @becominglionhearted @becs-bunker @impala-dreamer @imagining-supernatural @dancing-the-hellfire-rumba @dancingalone21 @polina-93 @pickupthatamulet @tiny-friggin-human @juanitadiann @wordstothewisereaders @sgarrett49 @ruprecht0420 @there-must-be-a-lock @myrabbitholetoneverland @iwriteaboutdean @spngeronimo @captainemwinchester @mogaruke @imissyoualittlemoreeveryday @wellthatsrandomkek @winchestersnco @winchesters-flannels @jayankles @akshi8278 @keepcalmandcarryondean @castianityislife02 @mandilion76 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @a-glass-of-orange juice @tardis-full-of-fallen-angels @ravenangel33 @easelweasel @holahellohialoha @blushingdean @sinistersaltqueen @ultrafandomcat @carryonmyswansong @emoryhemsworth @superapplepie @princess-of-erebor1992 @bebravekeeponfighting @carryonmywaywardcaptain @sebastianshoe kleinkariertebetrachter @stellaa33 @pillow223 @samisimportant @jessiliam-caronday

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villa-kulla · 8 years ago

Note

I was hoping you might find time for the commentary! I expect this may be a common request, but would you do the scene at the end of Chisolm's 7, from '6 months later' to 'gradually remembered how to be himself'?

I had a feeling you’d choose that one haha and I’m so glad you did! It was exTREMEly satisfying to write. Thanks for the ask!

(***copy-paste disclaimer that this is NOT under a readmore because my blog’s black background makes reading long things a chore, so SCROLL FAST IF YOU’RE NOT INTERESTED!***)

Before this section even starts, for the 6 months later heading I intentionally left such ridiculously huge paragraph gaps before and after, just because I knew people would be scrolling and I wanted to convey distance for the time jump. If this had been a book I’d have wanted an almost blank page that says ‘6 months later’, so I guess wide gaps in between scrolling is the online version of that haha)

Goodnight stretched back on the lounge chair contentedly, baking underneath the hot sun. Billy would give him hell for having taken off his thin linen shirt in the middle of the day, but Billy was out swimming as it happened, and what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

Goody and I are one where the sun is concerned, in that we KNOW we burn easily but the allure of sunbathing properly is too much to resist haha, much to the despair of the ones who are trying to save us from ourselves/UV rays. This is absoLUTEly a source of much bickering for them haha

He reached for his drink, moving the colourful umbrella to the side as he took a pull from the straw. He licked his lips, the sweet juice mingling with the salty taste from when he’d gone swimming earlier.

They did that every day. Swimming, that is. Swimming, sailing, and making their way around the islands, no plans for the day other than if they should up the sails and find a new port to explore, or stay anchored, bobbing in crystal blue and green waters next to white beaches, alternating between swimming or laying back on the deck while they enjoyed each other’s company. Whether that was by playing cards, reading, tanning, keeping the large yacht in ship-shape, or having frankly ridiculous amounts of sex, the bliss of living with Billy Rocks still hadn’t worn off. And at this rate, Goodnight didn’t think it ever would.

living the high liiiiife. Back in chapter 1, Sam asks Goody what his plans with the bank money are, and Goody says ‘I see a yacht in my future’, and then BOOM, just like that I had the ending for this fic completely in place haha. Like the second I typed him saying that it was like “oh okay, so this fic ends with Goody and Billy on a yacht together, k cool”, and the whole way through I couldn’t wait to actually write it. And as we talked about before, this Dorothy L. Sayers quote was in my head the entire time writing it: “Lord Peter’s large income… cost me nothing and at the time I was particularly hard up and it gave me pleasure to spend his fortune for him. When I was dissatisfied with my single unfurnished room I took a luxurious flat for him in Piccadilly. When my cheap rug got a hole in it, I ordered him an Aubusson carpet.” Spending fictional money is extremely satisfying haha, so yeah, I was very much looking forward to spoiling these two

Goodnight nudged down his sunglasses, keeping an eye on Billy out in the water, smiling when he saw his dark head bobbing out in the water like a seal’s. They were anchored by a coral reef and Billy was out snorkeling again. Never content to just float on the water though, Goodnight often saw his head dip under to go chase a fish or pick up a shell on the sandy bottom.

I had to include the seal comparison, because as always, Billy is such a water creature to me. I blame River Grit lol, but the seal bit is my little shoutout to my own damn obsession with him as a water spirit. Also protective!Goody nudging down his glasses

Goodnight smiled and took another sip of his drink, making a mental note to ask Billy if he wanted to have dinner on shore or fix something on the boat. They were anchored off one of the many islands in the area, and this one had an appealing night market they’d explored the night before before, walking through the bright lights with cold beers in their hands, listening to the sounds of drums from the street bands, the smell of fish, pineapples, and coconuts thick on the air.

I like the domesticity in the phrasing of ‘fix something’, and how it suggests the kind of dinner routines they might have built up at this point in their little floating home. Can’t you just picture them in the kitchen, hips bumping while they both make supper, and holding things out for each other to taste? My heart

They’d seen what felt like half of the Pacific islands this way: sailing to different areas and exploring the local cities, enjoying the colour of each one. But as fun as their travels had been, Goodnight also enjoyed the time he spent with Billy just staying in on the boat: days spent lounging on the deck while they soaked up the sun, the ocean rippling clear around them; warm evenings of throwing something together in the yacht’s kitchen and eating dinner out on the deck with their feet dangling in the water as they watched the sun set; rainy evenings curled up in the lounge watching old movies on their flat screen while the rain drummed on the roof overhead and made the ocean outside as rippled and dented as a golfball. And then there were the nights spent with the windows thrown open, the hot breeze coming in while they moved together on the sheets, feeling and tasting every inch of each other, the movement of their bodies as steady and uplifting as the roll of waves.

I’ve often felt like this big chunky paragraph could have been more elegantly done, but I wasn’t sure how. But either way it was very satisfying to imagine and write these little scenarios for them. Personally I like the image of them eating on the side of the boat with their feet dangling in the water while the sun goes down best, but I also like the image of a rainy ocean being like a ‘golfball’. I was very keen to get the golfball comparison in there, but again, I feel like I could have done it more elegantly but just didn’t know how lol but ah well

Goodnight and Billy had each chipped in from their shares of the casino job so that they could buy the yacht. It was the closest thing either had had to a steady home in a long time, it had been worth every penny.

so they each made off with about 25 million if I remember correctly? I looked at a lot of yachts for sale while writing this (which was both fun and envy-inducing haha), and honestly a reeeeeally swanky mid-sized yacht could EASILY go for at least 50 million. But also I didn’t want them to spend their WHOLE cut of the take on a yacht, because they need to have millions left over to play around with! So idk, let’s say their yacht is certainly high end but not ostentatiously so, and they afforded it just fine with plenty left over for caviar. And btw, in all my yacht research, this one was probably closest to what I imagined for the exterior, although not exactly: https://www.burgessyachts.com/en/sale-purchase-category/yachts-for-sale/sailing-yachts/khaleesi-00006286.html (I couldn’t find an exACT match for what I had in my head but that one’s close-ish)

And speaking of a million dollar view…

coming up is my version of ‘Ursula Andress ascending from the sea in a white bikini in Dr. No’, only it’s Billy haha

Billy was climbing up the ladder, and god, this was just the best part of Goody’s day. He pulled himself up onto the deck, dripping wet, muscles glistening beneath the hot sun, black swimsuit clinging to his hips. He reached up to take off his snorkelling mask, the plastic strap tangling briefly in his hair which he then squeezed out. It was past his shoulders these days, either by preference or simply not being bothered enough to cut it.

would that not be a sight and a half……writing this paragraph was shameless voyeurism I tell you haha. Oh and also the ‘this was just the best part of Goody’s day’ was a reference to Matt Damon’s line in the movie when we see Julia Roberts coming down the stairs looking lovely and he says ‘This is just the best part of my day.’ Like it says in the fic notes, the plot itself is only LOOSELY based on Ocean’s 11 (in that it’s a team and they rob a casino haha), but there are a number of homages, lines, and references to the movie sprinkled throughout, because I love it so much

Billy bent down to take off his flippers, and Goodnight took the opportunity to quickly throw on his white shirt again, not bothering to button it. Billy would say he was burning up, although truthfully Goodnight had never been more brown in his life. He ran his fingers through his salty hair, mussing it up, knowing Billy found it fetching when his hair, sun-streaked with blonde these days, fell across his eyes.

while I do love canon-Goody’s gross, slicked-down hair as an endearing character trait, this was my chance to actually give him some nice, free hair, and I took it haha.

Billy straightened up and walked towards Goodnight on the lounge chair, clearly finding Goodnight as appealing a picture right now as Goodnight found him.

it’s fair to assume they don’t get a lot done, what with how much they just check each other out all the time

“Nice swim, cher?” Goodnight asked with a smile.

“Saw a lionfish,” Billy said with satisfaction as he picked up Goodnight’s drink and took a sip of it.

went back and forth for aaaages between ‘Billy said with satisfaction’ and ‘Billy said happily’. I really liked the ‘happily’ but felt it was coming off as too childish, especially for Billy’s first lines in this scene. I wasn’t trying to infantilize him with pure unfiltered pleasure at a lion fish, but that’s just how the ‘happily’ seemed to be coming off

“Bravo, darling. What’s that, only two thousand species left to go?” Goodnight asked, referring to the list Billy had taped to the fridge of all the different fish he wanted to see in the wild.

he WOULD have that though. oh I do love you, fishboy

“Something like that,” Billy agreed, handing Goodnight back his glass where he’d been batting at it. “Saw a leopard shark too.”

that ‘batting at it’ was completely meant to suggest lazy cat behaviour in Goody. ‘cause. I don’t know, man. They just make nice cats haha

Goodnight narrowed his eyes. “How big are those ones again?”

Billy warns Goody against messing with the sun, and Goody warns Billy against messing with sharks, it evens out in the end;) Protective bbs

Billy smiled. “They’re harmless, Goody.”

“Well maybe so, but you just remember what I said about chasing off after anything with bigger teeth than you,” Goodnight said warningly.

“You’ll be cross,” Billy said, smile still tugging at his lips.

“I’ll be cross,” Goodnight agreed.

“And you’ll scold me,” Billy murmured, bending down, his lips tickling Goodnight’s.

okay but writing Goody scolding people is just SO FUN FOR SOME REASON? I can see him getting all puffed up and ranting at people, and those who know him well know it’s best to just let him talk himself out. The scene earlier in this chapter of him floridly telling off Sam was extremely delightful to write lol. Goodnight definitely has a well developed sense of righteous indignation. Although any shark-related warnings Billy may have received would certainly have been given with love, they’d be given with fervour too, ‘cause I mean Goody didn’t go to all this trouble just to have Billy eaten by a SHARK

“Darn right,” Goodnight said with finality, leaning in to catch Billy’s lips, salty and cool against his own, and delicious every time.

He felt Billy’s lip turn up against his own, and suddenly Billy was pulling back and wiping a thick glob of cream against Goodnight’s nose.

“You were burning,” Billy said.

don’t know if anyone would have remembered the scene from chapter 6 at this point, but Billy was also warning Goody that he was getting a sunburn, and this is my little echo to that. Trapped or free, Billy is head of the ‘make Goody wear sunblock’ squad

Goodnight made a sound of protest but laughed and rubbed the sunscreen in. Billy kissed the tip of his nose when he was finished, and then hopped back onto the deck to go towel off.

I feel like Goody makes a lot of ‘sounds of protest’ in my fics lol, but sometimes it’s hard not to overuse the same mannerisms for characters. But on an unrelated note, BILLY. KISSING. GOODY’S. NOSE. I still can’t decide if that’s a very unBilly-like thing to do, or a VERY Billy-like thing to do, but either way, the image pleased me so in it stayed

Goodnight felt his heart swell to watch Billy move about the deck, limbs loose, posture relaxed, a world removed from the Billy Rocks he’d met in Vegas. That Billy had watched everything with wary eyes, posture tense, too skinny and his skin pale from so much time inside, suspicious of everyone and everything around him.

Goodnight had still found him the most beautiful man alive back then. But the Billy that had emerged these past six months was nothing short of a wonder. He was tanned and golden, muscles strong and healthy from hours spent swimming and doing work on the boat every day. His quietness from before had made him seem pent-up, almost like it was a defense. But any stretches of silence these days seemed borne of confidence instead, telling Goodnight what he thought of something with an eloquent lift of his eyebrows or a mere quirk to his lips. He was relaxed, cocky, so dry-as-dust funny he made Goodnight’s sides hurt, and so vibrantly self-possessed Goodnight felt he was seeing the real Billy Rocks come out more and more every day, leaving behind the buttoned-up Billy he’d met in Vegas as Billy gradually remembered how to be himself.

Hardest DVD commentary paragraph for last, but Billy was often a challenge to write in this one. I kept trying to write him as the Billy Rocks I’m used to - the one described in this paragraph - but he kept coming out as so wary, wound tight, and extremely vulnerable. But then again, why wouldn’t he be?? If you think about it, his situation is HORRIBLE. I think it’s realistic that he would feel extremely vulnerable and defensive, so that’s the Billy I ended up writing for much of the fic. And I told myself that the Billy we see on the yacht is when we finally see the REAL Billy Rocks….long hair and all:) Although if I can briefly mention the next paragraph, (‘Sometimes Billy would withdraw, and Goodnight knew he was retreating to years of repression and tension and wondering what he could have done differently to have changed his situation, or wondering if there was nothing he could have done at all. Sometimes it was hard to know which was worse.’) I felt it was really important to include that to show he’s not going to get over it just like that, or just because he has a nice house now. Billy would realistically have some ptsd for a long time after spending 10 years trapped and under extreme mental pressure. So it’ll definitely take Billy a while to cope with, but he has a much better footing to do it now, and I imagine given time, he’ll be even more like the Billy Rocks we’re all used to. And I like the last words of “Billy gradually remembered how to be himself”, because I’ve found in my own experience when it comes to getting over a traumatic period, those little flashes where you feel completely normal and like yourself again do feel like ‘remembering’ in a strange way. Like your whole body is remembering or something. So while it will still be a struggle sometimes, the more he remembers, the more like himself he’ll stay.

(P.S. Still not entirely sure if I’d do a sequel or if it’s just an idea to amuse myself with sometimes haha, but I’m sure the Billy Rocks in any ‘Chisolm’s 8′ would be more what we’re used to haha. And my image of the team meeting up again for the first time would contain a lot of whistles and ‘damn Billy’ and Billy’s just like ‘what??!’ and all alarmed by the attention, much like how he met them for the first time, and Sam’s just amused like “Nothing. You look good, Billy,” and Goody trails in after with him a dreamy smile all like “Doesn’t he though?”. Smitten, styling, criminals ‘till the last haha. And yes, Billy absolutely keeps the hair haha)

Thanks for the ask!:)

#fontainebleau22 #asks #writing #shares #long post

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jkfortunekookies · 8 years ago

Text

TRUTH OR DARE

DO NOT REPOST , TRANSLATE OR DISTRIBUTE

Hi guys! It’s been a year since I updated this fic T_T Everyone asked for a pt.3 , but I wrote over 14k words and I still wasn’t done, so I decided to split it and make a pt.3 and pt.4. I hope you enjoy! Part 4 should be released soon as well, and it will be rated.

Genre: romance/fluff/Semi-Smut Pairing: Jungkook/You Length: 6953 words Summary: This the follow up of what happens after you and Jungkook gather up with your friends to play truth or dare and it gets a little dirty.

Don’t forget to tell me what you thought about it in the comments/message box <3

PART 1 PART 2/ PART 3

It was just another regular day for Jungkook, your normal college student who was strolling alongside other students. He was casually walking through campus, kicking the ground with his Puma shoes as he scrolled through his twitter notifications. Twelve notifications and ten of them were from Hoseok alone.

What the f*ck is going on this time? Has he gotten married or something? Who sends ten messages in a row when no one answers back? Hoseok hyung is such a drama queen, Jungkook scrolled through the messages Hoseok sent him

(10) New messages from Hoe-suck

(1) Did you fuck?

(2) Did you got laid?

(3) Where did she touched you first?

(4) Did she knew about your Spanish Kink?

(5) Don’t tell me y’all slept it off?

(6) Oh no, you didn’t send her back home did you?

(7) You definitely sent her back if you’re not responding to me

(8) Damn it, kook! GET IT TOGETHER. YOUR DICK NEEDS SOME COMPANY IN THIS CRUEL LIFE. T.T

(9) Reply, you fetus!!!

Oh lord, he really needs to chill, Jungkook sighed before he finally noticed the tenth message

(10) Screw it, I’m messaging Y/N and asking her.

F*ck NO. YOU’RE NOT MESSAGING HER! His jaw suddenly dropped as he dialed hoseok’s number as fast as he could

All he got was Hoseok’s automatic voice message:

“You have reached the message box of your hoe for some hope, please send in a message after the beep or else I might sleep off and never reply to you, because I don’t take calls unless they’re from my usual booty calls. Have a nice day too.”

“Hoe for some hope?” Jungkook chuckled heartlessly “More like, HOE that ruins your life and runs off afterwards. What hope is he even referring to? ” he sighed “What the heck was he thinking when he recorded that?” he finally chose to text him back “Hold the fuck back Hoe Suck, No one is talking to Y/N about what happened last night” Jungkook typed his message in a fury

It wasn’t long before a new notification popped up on Jungkook’s phone

(2) New Messages from Baby Girl

Jungkook has to do a double take before he noticed the messenger’s ID on his phone’s screen. He didn’t had a whole load of female contacts in his phone, so to see the words baby girl popping up on his screen was unexpected.

Who is this random baby girl who’s popping in my notifs like a curse?! He furrowed his brows before pressing on the message

(1) Looking forward to see you in class.

(2) Nice jeans btw

Did they messaged the wrong number? Yeah, probably the wrong number ….

“Baby girl?” Jungkook mumbled under his breath as he stared at his phone’s screen as he walked towards the school’s entrance “How does she know that I’m wearing jeans though? I could be wearing a skirt, why is she so sure.”

Not that I’d ever wear a skirt, because that would be make me seem like a pervert, but you know…I could be wearing anything else, why did she assume that I’m wearing jeans, and why did she got her answer right?!Who is she?

“Baby who?” Hoseok surrounded his arm around Jungkook as he tried peeking in his phone “New girl already?”

“None of your business” Jungkook hid the phone in his pocket

“Tell your hoe what happened, baby boo” Hoseok gave him a perverted glance “How was the friction and passion last night, between you and the eagle?”

There was too much friction and not enough action, if that’s what you want to know, and why did he call her ‘’Eagle’’ ? I don’t recall crushing on a bird.

“You’re not my hoe, don’t be my hoe. I don’t want you as my hoe” Jungkook shook his head in disbelief as he walked towards namjoon

“Hoseok lost it because his ex , rejected him again last night” Namjoon commented

“Maybe if he started off by not labelling his own self as a hoe, he could get back with her” Jungkook narrowed his eyes at Hoseok

“You’re not one to talk, I bet you didn’t even had the courage to pull down your pants last night” Hoseok gave him a smug look “You can’t even get laid properly yet you’re talking”

“W-Well maybe I didn’t do it last night, but t-that was…b-because” Jungkook stutters as he recalls the events from the night before

“Because? What kind of justification is he going to pop out of his ass this time?” Hoseok chuckled

“Things didn’t go as smoothly as they were supposed to...” Jungkook groaned as he dropped his bag to lean his back on the wall “Y/N is definitely not like what I expected”

Definitely not as cute and innocent, more like a new type of savage who doesn’t hesitate to drop it low when it’s needed, he thought

“ That chick is wild, I knew it from day one” Namjoon nodded “ Modest girls always end up being feisty” he smirked “ And that’s what makes it sexy as f*ck”

“You call that sexy?” Jungkook shivered “I really can’t with her” he ruffled his hair at the thought of being touched unexpectedly like what happened the night before “She almost went right for it, I lost my shit and told her to leave”

I was on the verge of losing it. What else could I even do? Release like a prepubescent boy after a few strokes? I don’t want to lose my dignity like this, especially not to her. It was a question of pride, I couldn’t just let her win.

“ She was straightforward then ” Yoongi suddenly showed up next to him “I know girls like her, they go right to the course, there’s no appetizer for them” he narrowed his eyes “ My last hook up was just like that”

Oh these guys don’t even know what the f*ck went down after they left

“You guys don’t understand, it only took a few seconds after y’all left, for her to make it crystal clear” Jungkook clarified “ She was aware of my boner for the entire game, this is so embarrassing , I can’t even” he face palmed

“I knew she wasn’t as clueless as she pursues to be” Namjoon smirked

“The key to success in the bedroom is to relax, Jungkook” Hoseok puts his arm around Jungkook’s shoulder

Relax?! How the f*ck can any guy breath when they’re under that girl’s touch?

“ What kind of guy can relax when his love interest suddenly pins him down and tries feeling him up for a few seconds as she pretends being innocent three seconds after?” Jungkook’s eyes rounded “ That girl tried changing topics by throwing in a few Spanish words.” He sighed before he realized something “Also…which one of you f*ckers told her about my Spanish kink?” he smacked Hoseok’s arm

“It wasn’t me, I swear” hoseok rubs his arm in pain “I didn’t even knew you liked Spanish that way” he commented “I kind of dig your kink though” he nodded “I should try it too”

“Then who told her if it’s not you?!” Jungkook glared at his friends

“Count me out, I’m too busy trying to find a girlfriend” Taehyung lifts his hand

Of course you were * rolls eyes*

“Or maybe Y/N learned it on her own?” Namjoon sipped on his coffee “She might seem all cute but she always does her research before anything. She’s a planning freak, remember?”

Truth suddenly hit Jungkook right across the face like a slap. You were indeed a planning freak, which was also why you avoided Jungkook during midterm’s week, because he was a possible cause of distraction. It was also the reason why you met up the day before to finally celebrate after midterm’s week. That was also how you both ended up getting caught in the Truth or Dare game.

No way, why would she ever…? But what if she did, then doesn’t that mean that—OKAY NO, THIS IS NONSENSE. THERE’S NO WAY SHE EVER WANTED ME LIKE THAT! She was just drunk ,Jungkook, get over it!

“Her? Searching about my kinks” Jungkook laughed out loud “You’re so funny, hyung!” he smacked the elder’s shoulder “That girl was planning her midterms for over a month now, there’s no way she ever had time to think about me. She even rejected every call and text from me during midterm’s week, why would she ever do that?”

“You never know man” Namjoon licked the cream on his top lip “You always get the biggest surprises when you don’t expect them”

“That’s also why Jungkook lost his shit when Y/N went all explicit on him last night. He wasn’t expecting her to be like that, right Jungkook? “Taehyung giggled

“How many times do I have to remind you, we didn’t touch, we didn’t do it!” Jungkook growled

“But it could’ve had happened if you didn’t back off like a wee wee” Hoseok stomped his foot

“What the f*ck is a wee wee?” Jungkook raised a suspicious brow

“A very scientific term that Hoseok uses to define his reproduction system” Namjoon clarified

“I thought that we were majoring in fine arts, not in biology” Jungkook rolled his eyes “ The only things I hear these days are related to sex. Whether they’re insults or normal topics, why are people so obsessed with this? ”

“I never say this enough but our generation literally f*cked up too much for us to save it” Namjoon patted Jungkook’s shoulder

“This is what happens when you’re surrounded by single horny college guys” Hoseok nodded

“As if I didn’t got the memo already” Jungkook smiled sarcastically

“Well you’re single too, so you’re not one to talk, crunchy kookie” Hoseok smirked

“Yeah, Well… I don’t talk about my sexual urges every second of the day unlike someone” Jungkook chuckles heartlessly

“Look here Romeo, if you don’t make your intentions known to the world, you will never find a hook up” Hoseok popped a lollipop in his mouth “ This is also why you still didn’t got to second base” he eyed Jungkook’s pants before chuckling “That huge thing isn’t just there for decoration, honey” he made a sassy pose

“Nope, the guy doesn’t need to move his pinky, yet girls line up to him” Namjoon laughs “ It’s not about making your urges known, it’s about that thing you call charisma” he comments “ Girls jump on kook because he pushes them off and that’s somehow attractive in women’s brain. In other words, they want to bite a piece of what they can’t have.” He took another sip of his coffee

“Did you understand what nams just said?” Taehyung blinked

“Taehyung, do me a favor and stop trying to understand what namjoon says” Hoseok comments “You know as well as I know that our brain cells are not developed enough to understand his scientific language”

“Basically, Girls get curious because Jungkook isn’t easy to please” namjoon sighs “It’s that thing we call, hard to get. Which is why Y/N is probably more curious now, because he pushed her off of him last night.”

“Whoah, Jeon Jungkook. You’re probably the first and last man to ever push off his own love interest that way. I mean, she literally threw herself on you and you rejected her?! Do you even love her? I almost feel bad for her. Imagine if she knew about your feelings too” Hoseok titled his head

“Well thank god she doesn’t know about my feelings or else it would’ve been worse” Jungkook shivered “It would’ve been so embarrassing”

It wasn’t long before a giddy Park Jimin came in running like a ball of happiness and energy. The boys were quite shook at his sudden act of cheerfulness. The boy did broke up with his girlfriend the night before, therefore, looking happy wasn’t something they expected from him.

“Did you take drugs?” Jungkook blinked “Why are you smiling like this? No, don’t smile at me like this.” He stepped back

“Not on drugs, I just have amazing news” Jimin rubbed his palms together

“May I remind your ass that your lips touched with Kim taehyung’s last night? Why are you happy?” Hosoek cringed his face as he smacked jimin’s arm

“Yeah that rotten apple chapstick made me want to barf” taehyung shivered

“Says the guy who initiated the kiss” Namjoon chuckled “You pulled Jimin onto your kiss, don’t blame the poor guy for your reckless behavior”

“Or maybe Jimin is going nuts because he kissed taehyung last night?” Hoseok puts his arms over his chest in protection

“Damn, what a way to ruin my amazing news” Jimin scowled “That kiss was awful, maybe his kissing skills are the reason why he is still single”

“Change your chapstick” taehyung pointed at jimin

“Change your kissing technique!” jimin glared

“What kissing technique?! We literally just touched lips and you pushed me off” Taehyung argued

“Ok now, enough talks about your ugly kissing scene from last night” Jungkook cringed “What are the good news, hyung?” he sighed

“Guess!” Jimin ruffled his friend’s hair

“You got a scholarship?” Namjoon raised a brow

“Talk about something realistic, man. We’re all low leveled B’s in this squad. Forget about getting good grades, my mom will probably whoop my ass when I’ll get back home for holidays” Yoongi commented

“I can’t believe these words are coming out from a guy who just turned 23 a few months ago” Taehyung laughed

“It doesn’t matter how old I am, I’ll always be my mom’s baby” yoongi smiled

“How sweet, I almost cringed” Hoseok commented

“That’s what she said, not my words” yoongi blinked “So Jimin, what’s up?”

“Well my girlfriend took me back last night” Jimin giggled as he surrounded his arms around Hoseok and Namjoon “We cuddled and giggled all night long” he added like a lovesick fool

“Well my ex didn’t take me back” Hoseok emphasized as he pushed off Jimin’s arm “That’s why I left that little….that little…” he searched for an insult “That little cinnamon roll of annoying cuteness”

“You’re disgusting Hosoek-ah” Yoongi cringed his face “Your words are sweeter than confectionary sugar”

“Why does it sound so ironic, coming from someone whose nickname is Suga” Namjoon smiled

“ Hoseok is lovesick” Yoongi points at Hoseok “ I hate lovesick people, They find random excuses to hug you when you want to sleep” he replies in a grouchy tone “This dumb ass didn’t let me sleep last night”

“Oooh~ Y’all spent the night awake?” Taehyung wooed

“Yeah we had lots of fun” hoseok wiggled his eyebrows

“Fun as in, he kept on choking me with his stupid arms”

“Well damn that escalated quickly” Namjoon blinked

“I wasn’t done! He choked me in his arms and I couldn’t sleep” yoongi nudged hosoek

“Of course you couldn’t, honey” Hoseok gave him a charming smile

“Don’t you honey me?” Yoongi glared at him

“You love me, sugar” Hoseok smiled as he wrapped his arm around yoongi

“So you guys really slept together and left Hoseok’s ex hanging?” Namjoon nodded “ I thought you’d go back to her or something” he sips on his coffee

“ He’s probably smitten over her smile all over again” Jungkook took out his round circle glasses before putting them over his cute nose“ Jennie noona has that cuteness, remember?” he taps his glasses cutely

“ Tell me about it, we were all gaga over her when she first showed up in freshman year’s orientation” Jimin chuckled “ I tried getting a date but she literally stomped all over my face with her heels, it was awesome”

“Remember that time she gifted Jungkook a bunny plushie when he got his university admission letter? It was honestly the cutest present he ever received” taehyung squealed

“Y’all only gave me a few slaps on my butt, yet you called them ‘presents’ ” Jungkook shook his head “Jennie noona was being considerate, unlike you guys”

“I miss the times we used to hide in the library and make forts with books” Namjoon chuckled “Those were the good times”

“I got through my finals thanks to her cheating hacks” Taehyung commented

“I honestly hate her so much, but every time I see her annoying cute smile, I end up nutting over her” Hoseok admits

“We all do Hoseok, we all do.” Jimin nodded

“About the hating segment or the nutting part?” Hoseok raised a suspicious brow “Y’all better back the f*ck off from my ex”

“Both?” Namjoon chuckled “I don’t even know”

“No one is hitting on your ex Hoseok” Taehyung rolled his eyes “She doesn’t even let any guy get near her, because they’re her sworn enemies”

“Who knows? Maybe she’s still nutting over your smile too, hyung” Jungkook cutely flipped his book’s page as he adjusted his glasses “You’re a Hoe for some hope, right?” he clicked his tongue as he winked at Hoseok

“This little bastard is quick to catch on” Hoseok pointed at Jungkook “Give me five!” they high fived

“It’s crazy to think that you’re being smooth like this around us, but it suddenly changes when Y/N shows up” Taehyung comments

“That’s because he likes her” Namjoon added

“That’s what I don’t understand about this kid, the girl is literally giving him an open invitation and he kicked off his biggest opportunity to score” Hoseok shook his head in disbelief

“What score? I’m not getting laid to score, I do it because I really mean it…” Jungkook frowns “You beastly animals, only think about doing it for fun.”

“Beastly animals?” Hoseok jaw dropped “Is he talking about me, right now?”

“I think so” Namjoon chuckled sexily

“Who else in this squad has a different girl in their bed every night if it’s not you?” Jimin laughed

“As if you’re one to talk, Mr. I used to be a player but suddenly turned into a saint after finding a girlfriend” Hoseok sassed “ May I remind you that you hooked up with over fifty freshman—“

“Why are you bringing up shit from the past, shut up PLEASE?” Jimin clasped his hand onto hoseok’s mouth

“What about all the butts you saw on the daily?” Taehyung cooed

“That’s my work, it’s different!” Jimin scoffed “I have to analyze models for my father’s modeling agency. It’s not like I really have the choice, I’m one of the people who are in charge of it”

“Butts, huh?” Jungkook sighed as he opened his literature book “If there’s one thing I hate the most in the world, it’s the existence of butts”

“And Jungkook finally lost it” Taehyung tapped Jungkook’s shoulder “Are you sure you’re sober?! How can you cross a line on the best curve of the human body?”

Well after your crotch gets crushed by a perfect butt for over 45 minutes, maybe you’ll understand how much of a pain in the ass, an ass can actually be *see what I did there*

“You dislike butts? Then why do you grab Jimin’s butt whenever you feel nervous?”

“Jimin’s butt is just a butt” Jungkook rolled his eyes

“Should I feel offended now?” Jimin tilted his head

“Girls fight over his ass though” Namjoon chuckled “You should feel blessed to be the only one to touch it besides his Girlfriend.”

“Right?” Jungkook made a meme face “Thank you for letting me grab your ass whenever I was stressed out ,Jimin” he taps Jimin’s shoulder “ Is that what y’all want to hear?” he chuckled

“But really man? What’s the deal between you and her?” Taehyung sighed “Can’t you guys just play seven minutes in heaven and call it a night, just like every other college students would?”

You mean seven minutes in hell, because with her… there’s no such thing as heaven. Her existence itself is a sin for any sane man on this planet.

“ I can’t Lock us up in a closet for seven minutes and call it a night, because Y/N is not a random hook-up for me, she’s way more than that…” Jungkook kicks the ground with his shoes

“I may lose my swag by saying this, but that was really cute, Jeon Jungkook” Yoongi clears his throat “So cute I might vomit a few rainbows, but it still was disgustingly too cute”

“If Yoongi said it was cute, then it must be cute as f*ck” Hoseok nodded

“I suggest you think about it” Namjoon adds “Try thinking about what kind of motive she had in mind, to tease you like she did last night” he stares at jungkook

“She was drunk” Jungkook smiled awkwardly “She probably didn’t even mean any of this”

“But why back off when she openly gave you an invitation?” Taehyung chewed on his chocolate bar “She might have been aware of what she did. Being drunk only means that you do things you wouldn’t dare to do on a daily basis”

“But let’s have a real talk here” Jimin leaned towards Jungkook “Her feistiness challenges your manlyhood, huh?” he suddenly comments

“Shut up, it’s nothing like that!” Jungkook elbowed his friend

“Look man, if she’s wild, then that’s just a plus for all of you. You won’t be restricted to boring sex”

“Was sex ever boring in the first place?” Hoseok wiggled his brows “Nothing can get boring, unless you make it that way”

“Try telling this to a guy who got laid more often” Jungkook smiles sarcastically “I like her, but she’s so different after she gets drunk.”

“Then test out your skills on a hook up first?” Taehyung suggested “Or maybe go for the full course meal without holding yourself back”

“I can’t even f*ck around with the basics, so forget about getting laid with a bad bitch” Jungkook threw his head back

“Did he just call Y/N a bad bitch? Oooh~ “Taehyung shouted

“He’s definitely digging her feistiness” jimin laughed “You definitely wanted to find your match in bed right? Y/N will give you the right amount of competitiveness if you want my opinion”

“The issue with Jungkook is that he fell for her innocent concept and now that he learned that she’s wild, he’s afraid to make it happen” Hoseok commented

“Can you guys stop concluding shit on your own?” Jungkook scowled “It has nothing to do with my manliness or getting laid, she was just drunk and we made a mistake, that’s what happened”

“Jungkook definitely is a sub for her” Namjoon commented

“Ugh you guys “Jungkook sighed

“Even Jin sunbae left last night because he knew something was up between both of you” Yoongi coughed

“I thought Y/N liked Jin though?” Jimin blinked

Of course she happened to had to crush the most annoying guy who’s majoring in bio-some weird ish or whatever the f*ck it was called, Jungkook rolled his eyes as he reminded himself of your crush on Jin

“She just thinks he’s hot like the other brainless students” Hoseok added “Jin hyung has looks to die for, but he’s nothing like he pursues to be”

“What happened to Jin’s reputation as the prince of the biopharmaceutical department?” Taehyung asked “I thought everyone fought over him, including Y/N?”

“Well, he’s quite egocentric” Namjoon added “But you know, girls would rather fawn over men who can become doctors, than to do a double take at failures like us”

“If Namjoon called himself a failure, then I’m worse than a failure” Hoseok gasped “Don’t call yourself a Failure, Namjoon-ah! What do real failures like me, become then?!”

“We call them Extreme Failures” Yoongi puts his palm over Hoseok’s shoulder “It’s like this in monarchy. The royalty aka Jin is at the top and gets all the girls, smart students like Namjoon and Jimin are in the middleclass section, and people like you are the peasants down low. I’m the saint father who gives guidance to peasants like you.”

“What about me?” Taehyung blinked

“Sorry to break it out to you Taehyung-ah, but you’re the peasant’s maid. “ yoongi sighed

“Why am I a maid?!��Taehyung scoffed

“Seems like I’m not even part of your monarchy, Hyung” Jungkook commented

“That’s because you’re about to become royalty and kick Jin off the throne” Yoongi smirks “Who said that peasants couldn’t get on top?”

“Oh, so I’m a peasant too” Jungkook hung his head low “I knew it’d turn out that way”

“Don’t look down on peasants! They’re the ones who get to have the most fun in their lives!” Hoseok argued

“Why are they talking about peasants now?” Namjoon asked Jimin

“I don’t know? But May I remind you that I’m a third generation chaebol, here?” Jimin lifted up his hand “My dad owns a modeling agency? Why am I labeled as a middleclass guy?”

“Shut up and stop defying my law” Yoongi flicks jimin’s forehead “Namjoon would feel lonely, so you need to step down from royalty to keep him company”

“Of course I should” jimin replied “Bros before anything right?” he bro-fisted namjoon “I’m a man who owns four different Ferraris and three mansions in Gangnam, I bet you feel flattered I dropped from royalty to remain with you” he gave a flirtatious smiled to Namjoon

“Whoah, look at him bragging again.” Hoseok rolled his eyes “Is this how you get girls in your bed? Because it almost worked on me”

“I don’t do that anymore” Jimin flipped his hair sassily “ May I remind you that my baby girl is back in my arms?”

“You have a kid?!” Taehyung asked dumbly

“I meant baby girl as in my girlfriend who took me back, idiot” jimin chuckled

“It’s already time for my class” Jungkook stares at the screen of his phone “I hate history” he scowled “Wish me luck”

“I hope you get laid!!!” Hoseok shouted

“Hoe, can you not do it?” Yoongi glared at Hoseok “He probably can’t get laid because you embarrass him 24 h/7”

“Don’t worry, that good thing won’t be lonely for long” Hoseok smirked as he eyed Jungkook’s butt

…

Jungkook entered the class like a boss and found his usual spot in the last row right next to the window. Just as he was about to reach his desk, a hand grabbed on his sleeve. Jungkook jerked backwards as his eyes landed on the unexpected surprise. Hyuna the C cup of perfection that his hyungs drooled over since freshman year, just grabbed his arm. His eyes unexpectedly landed on her chest by accident but it wasn’t long before he stared right back into her vixen-like eyes. She was pretty with that mole right under her right eye, hair perfectly straight, plump juicy lips and curves to die for, yet jungkook wasn’t digging this whole thing.

Oh, well they were kind of right, her boobs do look a bit too much to handle for me though, he coughed

“Hey hyuna” he smiled at her

She’s pretty, but where’s the attractive part? She looks like a soulless Barbie doll.

“Kookie patootie” she mewed at him

Did she just gave me a pet name? , he cringed

“Pardon?” he raised a brow

“Your friends told me you wanted some help to get it up” she poked his arm seductively

“What friends?” Jungkook stepped back “Get it up? Get up what?” he asks with that perplexed gaze on his face

“You know what I’m talking about.” She slowly slid her hands around his neck “How about a bottle of champagne at my place tonight? Maybe we could--” she winked at him as her hand dropped lower

Oh well, congrats Jeon Jungkook, you attracted another jinx.

“ Uhm no, not today, Hyuna” he grabbed her hand before it dropped any lower “Sorry, I have to…uhm… go feed my bunnies after school” Jungkook smiled awkwardly

“W-wait what?” Hyuna blinked cluelessly as Jungkook slowly walked away

F*ck this one was close, how could she naturally drop her hand down like that, for f*ck’s sake? It is way too early in the morning to be popping boners like bottles of champagne, he sighed

Jungkook slowly walked his way back to his desk where he dropped his bag on the chair and removed his baseball jacket to reveal a button up blue and white shirt that was tucked in his jeans. He adjusted the watch on his wrist before grabbing his bag and taking out his Laptop. He sat on his chair and opened a new tab to check out his email and Facebook notifications ,as he scrolled through the new lecture notes of the day.

Oh well, French Revolution this time, he sighed, This is going to be a very fun lecture, he rolled his eyes, and why the f*ck is there so many goddamn dates to memorize?!

His focus suddenly shifted from his laptop’s screen to the familiar small giggles that were heard right next to him. He knew the intonation of your voice too well to discard the fact that both of you were indeed sharing that class together. He whooped his head to the side to notice you in your natural habitat, sitting weirdly, wearing a familiar oversized white hoodie and some black leggings, not to mention that you topped it off with that messy bun on top your head. He almost sighed when he noticed the bag of Cheetos in your hands.

Why did I had a crush on her, again? He suddenly pondered

“Why are you giggling now?” Jungkook ignored your presence and started typing down a few notes on his computer “Did something good happen?”

“I mean…” you giggled “I didn’t knew you had bunnies at home” you almost choked on your food

“Oh lord, what?” Jungkook turned his head to look at you “Are those slippers that you’re wearing?” he suddenly noticed your shoes

“What?” you munched on a few more Cheetos “I live on campus, so why bother waking early and change?”

“There’s that very important thing called hygiene” he rolled his eyes

“I brushed my teeth and washed my hair” you smiled “Fortunately I don’t live in some apartment that happens to be far away from school”

“Yeah, well maybe if you did, you wouldn’t look like this” he shook his head

“You didn’t reply to my question” you chuckled again “You had bunnies at home?”

“What is she saying now?” he rolled his eyes

“I mean, you and Hyuna were about to… and you just--” you put a hand over your lips to stop laughing before pausing “Feed your bunnies, huh?” you laughed at him

“Seems like you’re not completely sober” Jungkook grabbed a paper form his bag

“The last time I was at your place, there was no bunny there” you raised a brow “Oh maybe there was one” you smirked “A very cute soft bunny who was caught in headlights”

“F*ck all the way off, woman” his eyes didn’t leave the screen of his computer

“Right back at you, gentlemen” you stare at him “Do you regret last night that much?” you flipped your pencil in your hands “Or might have you wished that it could have had happened?” you wrapped your hand around your pencil

“Who would let their precious belongings between your hands?” he clenched his eyes shut as he imagined your hand being wrapped around his shaft “I-I don’t even want to imagine” he cleared his throat

The events from the night before were still fresh in his memory. He could still feel his inner desire burning with temptation. He could only thank god for crushing on a girl like you. Your attire and behavior was anything but sexy today and might as well make him more flaccid than he already wanted it to be.

“Oh you wish, Honey” you smiled cutely

“Are you sassing me now?” he chuckled heartlessly “I should’ve known that your sass wasn’t an after effect of alcohol”

“I’m all sober now “you blow him a kiss

Don’t you f*cking dare blow your kisses at me, woman.

“But what to do?” you cross your legs “I still remember everything that happened last night”

Of course she remembers the most embarrassing moment in my life.

“Sure, I do too” he crouched down to open his bag as he grabbed his pencil case “how could I forget about the most embarrassing moment in my life”

His circles glasses somehow had to slip off his perfect face and fall on the cold hard ground.

What a lucky day, he groaned

“I got you” you grabbed his circle glasses

Jungkook dropped his hand to reach for his circle glasses but he could tell from the look on your face that you weren’t going to give them back any time soon. You swirled the glasses in your fingers as you eyed them quite curiously. They looked quite cute in your opinion, and Jungkook looked especially cute wearing them today .

“New glasses?” you stare at them

“Yeah my vision deteriorated thanks to my obsession towards Overwatch” Jungkook rubbed his eyes like a bunny would

He tried reaching out for them but you kept them firmly in your grasp. You suddenly had a brilliant idea that went through your mind. It wasn’t long before Jung kook’s new glasses were now on your nose, making you look like a cute college girl. Being oblivious over your act, he kept on typing on his computer, until he tried taking them away from you for a second time, but couldn’t bring himself to do it this time.He gasped as soon as his brain registered the image of you, looking adorable with his glasses.

“You look smart” Jungkook commented “and quite witty”

“In other words, you think I’m a cute?” you puff your cheeks

Yeah, so f*cking cute I’m going nuts.

“Ew, was that aegyo? Get away from me” he feigned being disgusted

“You hurt my feelings” you ate another Cheeto “I may look like shit today but that’s because last night didn’t treat me that well”

“Had trouble sleeping?” He typed a few more words onto his computer

“My brain was aching too much for me to sleep” you comment before wiping your saliva on the sleeve of your oversized hoodie

It took a few seconds before realization hit him like a bus. That hoodie you were wearing, wasn’t any random hoodie. In fact, that hoodie seemed way too familiar to Jungkook.He cringed as he saw the Cheetos stains on the pure white shirt. He felt his jaw drop as he realized the situation.

Wait…Isn’t this hoodie--Are you f*cking kidding me, THIS BETTER BE A JOKE!!!!

“Wait a second” he grabbed your wrist “This hoodie you’re wearing” he clenched his fist “Don’t tell me, it’s the one I lent you last night?” he cringed

“Yeah” you nodded before munching on more Cheetos

“ I swear to god, this girl” he clenched his eyes shut “ why are you like this?!” he stares at his hoodie on you “ What has my pure hoodie ever done to you? My favorite one…My Julia, my one and only Julia” he faked a sob

“Who the f*ck is Julia?” you chew on your food “Wait… you’re giving names to your shirts now?” you raised a brow before touching the white hoodie “How in the world.” You shook your head in disbelief “I thought you were sane, what happened to that?”

“ It was one of the brightest and cleanest ones I owned, one the few white hoodies I managed to keep intact with no stain” he banged his head on him desk “After ruining Lucy the other day, you killed my precious Julia”

“Lucy? Oh…you mean that white T-shirt you lent me when we were painting your place a few weeks ago ?” you nodded before noticing the scowl on Jungkook’s face “Sorry” you wave your hand at him

“You better be sorry “he gritted his teeth “My collection of white shirts” he face palmed “I loved them so much”

“It’s just a white shirt! I’ll buy you a new one” you frown “Get over it”

“Easier said than done, my mom gifted that hoodie to me” Jungkook groaned as he grabbed onto the sleeve and tried wiping off the orange stain from your Cheetos with his handkerchief

“Oh well f*ck, sorry “you blinked “I’ll get it dry cleaned for you after school”

“Just take it off” he grabs your wrist

“I can’t do that” you put your arms over your chest

“Come on, take it off before you stain it again” he grabs the hem of your shirt “why are you resisting?! Give me back my Julia”

“I want to, but I can’t” you pushed his hand away

“Why not?” he asks you in puzzlement “You want to mistreat my Julia a little more before giving her back?”

“B-Because, I just can’t!” You suddenly blushed a beet shade of red

“Your cheeks are all red, you’re planning something weird again aren’t you?” he grabbed your chin as he squished your cheeks with his hand “Stop beating around the bush and give me back my shirt”

“Jungkook stop, I really can’t give it back, at least not now” you pushed his hands off you

“Just exactly why?!” he whined

You rolled your eyes before pulling his ear next to your lips . Jungkook gasped at the sudden proximity, feeling hot and bothered over the fact that your lips were near his ear. You could smell his delicious after shave scent but chose to shrug it off for the sake of the situation. Jungkook wanted to take away the hoodie away from you and you had to do something about it.

“Unless you want to see me in a bra, I suggest you stop asking me to take off your shirt” you whisper

Oh well, f*ck, now what?! W-What happened to her mania of wearing three shirts on top of each other because she feels too cold on campus?!

“Amazing news” he claps his hands as he smiles sarcastically “I’m thrilled” he sighed befire facepalming

“Of course you are” you comment

Jungkook went back to typing on his computer to forget about this sexy information you just shared with him.It wasn’t long before the teacher came in to give his usual lecture of the day. You garbed your pencil and started writing down what the teacher said , while Jungkook was typing everything onto his computer. He felt like sleeping every second of this class, yet he couldn’t remain composed because of your scandalous news.

She’s wearing a bra under my shirt….Doesn’t that mean that my hoodie touched her bra? Her chest almost came in direct contact with my shirt? No Jungkook, NO! You can’t start making stupid theories like this when it’s only 10AM, get it together.

You leaned your head to the other side as you wrote down a few handy notes for the lecture, and Jungkook was quick to catch onto something. His hoodie was slowly slipping off your shoulder and there was no presence of bra strap whatsoever.

Where the f*ck is her bra strap then? Why is there no bra strap?! I’m not bra expert, but I’m very concerned about bras with no straps.

The class quickly went by as Jungkook was anxiously thinking about his precious hoodie and your bra. After one hour and a half, you were finally free from hell and ready to get lunch, while Jungkook would have to get to his next class. He sighed before grabbing his laptop and burying his school supplies back onto his bag.

“I have English Lit with Miss Romanov for the next three hours, but you better drop off my shirt after school” he points at you “ And stop eating CHEETOS” he grabbed the bag from you “Eat some greens, honey” he comments

“I hate greens” you scowl before shouting “What did my Cheetos ever do to you?!” you stare at the bag leaving your sight

“I could say the same about my White hoodie” he glared at you before leaving

“Nice jeans by the way.” you stared at his thighs for more than necessary

“See you” he waved at you

“Whoa, I don’t get a single thank you?” you crossed your arms over your chest “What a cocky bastard you are. I complimented your outfit”

“I’m not lending you my pants to stain them like you did to my hoodie” he turns around “I’m leaving for real now! Bye” he waves at you and escapes through the door

He walked down the dark tunnel that connected the engineering building to the arts one. Staring at his phone, he received another new message from Baby Girl. Who was she and why was she so persistent on texting a guy she doesn’t even know.

(1) New message from Baby girl

(1) What to do? I’d like to stain those pants of yours.

What the heck? Why is she messaging me again? Jungkook scrolled up to re-read the first two messages , Wait what…Jean? Stain? I’ll see you in class? Nice jeans by the way….Nice jeans by the way? NICE JEANS BY THE WAY?!

He finally connected a few dots and realized that these texts from the so-called Baby girl were worded the exact same way as what you told him during your lecture this morning. He thought about being delusional and overthinking, but this was his only answer to the question. Baby girl was you.

Baby girl, huh? Try fooling someone else next time, he raised a brow

“Ridiculous” he ran a hand through his hair as he turned off his phone before a mischievous smirk made its way onto his perfect face “but sexy as f*ck…”

TO BE CONTINUED...

REQUEST/COMMENT FOR A PART 4 :)

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