#but i swear to god there HAS been a change recently. what HAPPENED in february

[iridescentoracle]

I mean I know that but that's what I'm saying!! Officially they're not together yet but it feels like I blinked and missed the big dramatic confession speech where Agatha decided she can handle plot things and dating at the same time and now they're doing exactly that!

i am so obsessed with how like. taken as read the ot3 are at this point. like on the one hand it feels like they've been building up to this for ages but on the other hand it kind of feels like i blinked and we skipped right past some Major Turning Point where everything got spelled out and we're just already in firmly Established Relationship-land. obviously tarvek is too well-protected for anyone to assassinate openly, look how angry his boyfriend and girlfriend are at the idea of anyone threatening him. at this point i'm half-convinced agatha's just going to refer to her boyfriends in passing to someone else and no one's even going to comment on it until van finds out twenty pages later and immediately starts making everyone pay up

[achillieus]

we’re fools. (bucky barnes x reader)

summary: for all bucky barnes knows, he hates clichés. and this thing between you two, happens to be the biggest one. 

(enemies to lovers trope or i watched the society on netflix recently and based this entirely on harry bingham and cassandra pressman)

pairing: college au!bucky x reader

warnings: alcohol, mentions of depression, angst, bucky is a cocky bitch, but bucky also needs a hug

(other parts)  (masterlist)

part 1/3:

It’s December, his sophomore year of college and Bucky’s watching you again. From afar, always from afar. He’s scared if he goes near, something will give him away and you’ll laugh at him. He doesn’t remember when his fixation started but he’s certain it’ll pass. A load of girls on campus like him. Sometimes he thinks he likes some of them back. But not you. Bucky doesn’t like you. He’s beyond you. (Actually, you’re beyond him. He would never admit that.)  He watches you and notices how your fringe has grown the last few weeks and how a few strands are falling down your eyes. You brush them away and keep writing your essay. He decides it’d be better if he started writing his too. You’re a year younger but he knows you’ll probably get a higher score than him anyway. You’re good with words, he has noticed.

-

It’s March, your freshman year and you breathe out. You’re leaving the library, arms wrapped around books about Hamlet and Shakespeare, when you see him. Lately he seems to be everywhere you are. It’s getting annoying. You promise yourself you won’t stare at him again, but you cheat a few times. He’s wearing one of his overpriced shirts and he smiles at a sophomore girl. You know Bucky Barnes. You’d known him even if you didn’t want to. Because everybody does. Because that’s who he is. Everything you dislike about the world distilled into one label-whoring, conceited, 5′11″ tall boy. And everybody seems to be smitten with him.

He comes to you first.

“It’s destiny, Y/N,” he says, a smug look on his face, “third time I bump into you today.”

You tense. This is new. Usually, you don’t talk to each other if not for arguing in Romance Literature class. It’s one of the two classes you share.

“I must be very lucky.” Bucky chuckles and it’s somewhat engaging because he hasn’t given you a smile since the first day you met him.

“Admission office is on the left, doll”.

You had thought he was nice then. And beautiful. God, he was so beautiful. Please, he’s not. He’s an arrogant smartass. And now he’s standing here and for some seconds he laughs and you can see the dimples in his cheeks. You blink.

His light eyes divert to the books you’re holding.

“Try not to have too much fun.”

He mocks and walks away.

-

It’s July, end of sophomore year and Bucky joins a summer book club. (He doesn’t tell anyone. He enjoys his facade.) Every morning he grabs an iced latte and a butter croissant and he goes to the meetings. He reads a lot. And he loves it. It helps him feel. It’s a getaway. Bucky always stands proud and tall, trying to hide how easily he can be torn.

Running one finger along the starched collar of his shirt, he reads quietly and he considers the ever-changing art of literature; words and metaphors that allow him to imagine entire worlds and fathom his own sensitivities. He almost feels vulnerable. He decides that reading together with another person is an intimate act and he’s thankful he doesn’t really have any interest in anyone in the club.

But then it’s Monday and his teenage dream walks in, hair falling gracefully your shoulders, Gone with The Wind in your left hand. And it could have been the sun gleaming through the windows, but Bucky swears his whole being flickers. In a way or another he always responds to your presence.

You sit two rows behind of him and when he involuntary turns to you, you look surprised and yet you smile.

He tries to avoid you and he’s good at it, until someone decides it’d be fun to present the next book in groups. You’re the only two without a friend there and you end up paired together.

“I don’t like this.” he says.

“Oh, I know.” you whisper.

You spend an evening in his dorm, discussing the author and the plot holes. At first, he talks a lot, trying to impress you. But then he lays on his back, listening to the summer rain outside and you reading out loud. Regardless of what you feel for each other, he thinks it’s a beautiful sound.

Next morning, he buys two butter croissants instead of one.

-

It’s October, your sophomore year and you’re not exactly friends. Or enemies. Bucky has stopped teasing you and you think it’s because of your days in the book club. Actually, it’s because he’s dating Natasha Romanoff now and he promised he’d be kinder.

You realize sooner or later and you say it’s obvious you don’t care. (Who is it obvious to?) The girl is pretty, clever and vibrant and she’s a good person. You like her. You just can’t figure out what she sees in Bucky.

-

It’s January, his junior year and he’s not doing well. He knows it’s his fault (he always loved half-heartedly) and that makes the hurting worse. It’s guilt driven. He tries to get Nat back but she’s not ready. And it’s awful because nobody warned him and he didn’t know; it’s hard to feel lovable after a break up. He desperately needs a distraction. He pushes himself past his breaking point. Carves his grades into the back of his neck. Devours facts and theorems. Almost joins the football team for extra credit. But to be honest he’s never been that much into sports. Debate team, it is.

That’s where he truly learns to despise you. Who do you think you are? The proud jaw, those smart eyes, your feet planted on the ground as if the world’s wisdom belongs to you. You’re at your best while he’s at his lowest point.

He watches you and then he watches himself.

“Your last argument was weak,” you say, raising your eyebrows, “you should concentrate more.”

Bucky bites his lip in frustration.

“You’re not the boss around here.” He says, crossing his arms in his chest, “You may think you are, but you’re not.”

(Technically she is, Bucky. She’s the captain of the team.)

“Don’t start again.” You sigh. “I just want us to win next week.”

He rolls his eyes at you. He would never admit it out loud but a part of him is enjoying this. Feuding with Y/N feels natural. It reminds him of who he is.  And he feeds on that.

He takes a step towards you.

“Of course, so you can take all the credit.”

You just stare at him. Sometimes you don’t understand what Bucky is trying to prove. That he’s better? Or that you’re worse? You hate it. How quickly he can make you lose your temper.

(How quickly he can exhilarate you.)

“If you don’t like the team,” you tilt your chin up to meet his gaze, “you’re free to leave.”

Bucky laughs. This is how you are. This is how you will always be. Both strong, you just, him lost.

“You need me to win, Y/N,” he sets his shoulders back and smirks, “I’m good at this.” He remains close to you and refuses to look away. He can see you parting your lips for a second or two.

(Did he just glance at your lips?)

“I know you are,” you breath out and Bucky is incredulous, “so start acting like it.”

(Did you just compliment him?)

-

It’s the first day of February, your sophomore year and you think you’re losing your sanity. Bucky invites everyone at his dorm to celebrate their victory at the National Debate Championship. And it’s strange because Bucky never really invites anyone he doesn’t like. If you didn’t know him, you would have bet that he’s been feeling lonely.

You don’t want to go at first. But you’re glad you do. Under the green lights he has installed and all the alcohol in his body, he looks different and it’s the first time you genuinely see him. A boy with silky black hair, blue eyes and skin that looks like it’d be cool to touch. There’s something attractive about him, in a rugged way, and you’re seeing it again after a long time.

Your allergies must have gotten in your head.

He doesn’t talk a lot that night. Not to you. Not to anyone. You deduce pretty early that Bucky just wanted company to drink. You wonder if he’s still messed up because of the break up.

Probably. Everyone on campus is talking about how Natasha was hanging out with that boy, Clint.

He tells you, you don’t have to, but you still stay to help him clean up.

“Why are you doing this, Y/N?” His voice is low.

You started taking a new antihistamine, maybe it’s the side effects.

“It’s called being nice,” you say firmly, “you should try it.”

Bucky makes a little humming sound and keeps collecting plastic cups. The room is quiet, but for the sound of trash bags and you count the seconds before you speak again.

“How are you?”

“I’m not that drunk, don’t worry.” He half-answers, half laughs but he pronounces the last word with enough irony.

“No, I meant,” you breath, “Is everything okay with you?”

“Seriously, you make no sense Y/N.” He’s careful not to look at you.

“I just wanted to say,” your voice sways for a second, you’re a novice in talking with him about anything different than books and words and that makes you weak and nervous, “You’ll be back with Natasha, I’m sure.”

Bucky’s face hardens around the edges, his eyes saying more about him than any words could. He comes close to you and it could have been the smell of alcohol but you feel like you want to throw up.

“You and I, we’re not friends.”

You don’t blink. You stare blankly at him, waiting for what follows. But he just leaves the room.

You promise you will never go to any of his parties again.

...

feedback is so appreciated and motivates me tons, thank you :)

[feelingofcontent]

DNP Rewatch: Exposing My Browsing History!

Date video was published: 08/10/2020 (X)

DNP Main Channel Rewatch: 420

A continuation (and expansion) of the “Google Search History” video series. His last one of those had been in early 2019.

0:05 - Phil in pastel purple is a good look! that is quite hot for London

0:11 - I swear Phil has an ever-changing definition of what “the other day” means. this one was only a couple weeks before at least

0:25 - “as much as I can think of” clearly a lot of preparation went into this 😂

0:34 - when he refers to himself in the third person he does tend to use “Philly”

0:39 - 4am. WHY. (also, if august 7 was “last night” he had a pretty quick turn around from filming to posting this video)

0:48 - weird animal fact time. this is a similar reaction he had to thinking too much about caterpillars in Testing Cursed Snapchat Filters!

1:00 - also a recent one. this sounds exactly like something that would happen or almost happen to Phil. (also, get ready for a lot of “we” in this video if I remember correctly)

1:12 - I am actually very glad we did not get this cursed content from Phil

1:21 -  one of the last pre-lockdown things Phil went to. he doesn’t look like he’s straining too much in the picture

1:39 - spon time. Phil does usually seem to work with companies he actually likes or is interested in

1:49 - he’s not lying about the importance of it to him. still want a better look at the Final Fantasy shelf

2:17 - “hunky Cloud”

2:55 - he tweeted this one back in March at the start of lockdown

3:07 - that must have been a bad dream, although he’s laughing now

3:20 - aww, poor Phil

3:25 - “look out for horny tornadoes in your dreams” what a great out-of-context Phil line

3:30 - another quite recent one

3:40 - I love that they immediately thought that PJ would know. And they did!

3:45 - “me and Dan” and the joint voice text/singing 🥺 definite uptick in Dan mentions/appearances in videos at this point, and Dan had even just briefly emerged on Instagram himself

3:49 - Phil looks very fond about it

4:13 - that is a weirdly hard word to say. also, does not sound appetizing in the slightest

4:29 - laughing hysterically at that one 😂 January 27 they had gone to see Dear Evan Hansen for his birthday, so maybe that’s when this discussion happened or someone mentioned it to him

4:39 - love him attempting to justify this

4:50 - “do not go on that website” good try there

5:02 - at least his posture seems to have improved somewhat during video filming after he stopped sitting on a bed

5:11 - awww. maybe he saw the cute guy at the dog show he went to on October 12

5:20 - I think Phil would probably look good in the right shade of brown, especially at that time when he had his brown hair!

5:43 - “I’m quite proud of that one” 🥺 and he should be! such a great video

5:47 - saying ‘happy birthday’ even though it is no where near February 1 when he’s filming this

5:57 - this MUST have been when he got a request for a jockstrap spon, right? 😂

6:03 - all his recent videos! I’m sure some of it is just getting the link of the last one or copying the description and such, but that’s kind of funny

6:11 - “we.” I love that Phil’s idea was to play videos for Norman as if that is a normal thing to do

6:23 -  this must have been when he was searching for either methods to catch Steve or for editing that video. maybe he was thinking about putting in a clip rather than an image

6:30 - they take their board games seriously!

6:33 - he definitely watched the last google search video in preparation for this one! I would love to know more behind-the-scenes stuff about Phil’s process from video idea to posting a finished video

6:58 - Phil had also tweeted about “the floor is lava”

7:15 - I love the self-callout editing at that 😂

7:24 - “thank god” I don’t want to know...

7:30 - “Dan explicitly lickin’ a minion ice cream” the first thing Instagram thinks Phil wants to see 👀

7:37 - “some hot guys”... game shows, desserts, and Dan...somehow entirely unsurprising

7:58 - he’s so easily distracted by these

8:09 - I love that he is immediately amused by all of these

8:41 - nope but it always and adventure

I do enjoy this Phil video, even if it’s a bit more ‘filler’ than the last several. Although in hindsight it does feel a bit rushed, especially after the google search part.

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Stark Spangled Kinks: More Cushin’ For The Pushin’

Summary: Steve is starting to see the effects of the serum depleting. Can Katie convince him that, well, she doesn’t give a shit?!

Warnings: Bad language and a heap of smut! (NSFW, no under 18s.)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Rogers (Stark)

A/N- So you all got @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ to thank for this.... and yes, this is utter head cannon about the serum but, indulge me!!

February 2028

“Sweetheart…” Steve sighed, gently catching Katie’s hand as it snaked over his belly under his Henley. She stilled and looked at him, her eyes narrowing slightly as he shook his head “I’m not feeling it tonight, I’m really tired.”

Katie sat up from where she’d been tucked under his arm as they sat on the sofa and flicked her pony tail back over her shoulder. “Alright. I’m gonna go up.”

“Honey…” he began to protest but she stopped him.

“Stevie, its fine. You said you’re tired so...” she gave him a smile that didn’t reach her eyes “I’ll see you upstairs.”

She curled her legs out from underneath her and stood up, padding from the room making sure to keep her face straight as she left. As she climbed the stairs, that horrible cold feeling washed over her from head to toe as she blinked back tears. Tears she felt pathetic for. This wasn’t a big issue…she got tired sometimes and pushed Steve away. Granted, that had happened like 4 times in the entire time she had been with him, but still…

Despite her self-reassurances, deep down she couldn’t help that little stab of insecurity in her brain. Steve had been acting off for the past 5 days. They’d had no fun of that nature whatsoever. Whilst his affection in general hadn’t particularly waned she’d noticed he wasn’t as handsy as he normally was and he hadn’t tried anything with her of that nature at all. He’d even taken to wearing a t-shirt in bed, which was basically unheard of, and it was almost as if he didn’t even want accidental skin contact with her.

Katie had brushed it off as him merely being tired. She knew he’d been reading through a lot of papers from his students, the first semester of the year was ramping up meaning Emmy was asking for his help too.  Jamie was also excelling at his baseball which was taking up Steve’s entire Saturdays as he took him to practice, assuming the proud dad role from the side-lines, Rori was attention demanding as ever and Harry was teething....

So yeah, this was totally down to Steve being tired. Nothing else.

At all.

Nothing to do with him going off her.

Nope.

Katie took a quick glance in the mirror, her hands smoothing over her hips and stomach which had taken a battering from 3 children, before she shook her head and headed into the bathroom.

Whatever…

Downstairs Steve was cursing himself. There was no mistaking the flicker of hurt that he’d seen in Katie’s eyes when he had pushed her away. He hadn’t meant to be so abrupt but he had been grappling with something internally for a few days now that he didn’t particularly know how to deal with. He ran his hands over his face before he stood up and turned off the TV. He let Lucky out for a pee before he made sure the doors were locked and headed up the stairs. He looked in on all his kid in turn, knocking lightly on Emmy’s door as she was home for the weekend,  and when she told him to come in he poked his head round finding her led in the dark, her face illuminated by her phone.

“Going to bed Em.” he said gently “Don’t be on that all night.”

“Yes dad.” she rolled her eyes and he arched an eyebrow at her.

“You might be 20 but less of the cheek.” he teased as she flashed him a smile.

“Love you pops.” she grinned cheekily.

He snorted “You too, sleep well.”

With that he shut the door and headed into the bedroom. Katie was in the en-suite, he could hear the tap running. Taking a deep breath he moved to stand in front of the mirror, gently casting his eyes over his reflection. At first glance he didn’t look that different but hitching his top up slightly he glanced at his torso, and there was no mistaking it. The definition in his abs had definitely decreased and the hard plane of muscle seemed to be giving way to something less toned.

The door to the bathroom opened and he let go of the hem of his top, just a little bit too late and Katie paused, looking at him.

“Everything ok?” she frowned.

“Yeah.” he nodded, brushing her concern off. “I’m going for a shower.”

He headed to door of their bathroom, and then she spoke softly, her voice cracking and her words made him stop in his tracks.

“Stevie, you’re scaring me.” she said gently and he turned to face her. The utter hurt on her face made him want to die, as she blinked and looked down at the floor .“Why are you pushing me away all of a sudden? We haven’t had sex in 5 days now. Don’t you…” she trailed off, not looking up, her words catching in her throat as she struggled to voice the question she was petrified of hearing the answer do “Do you not want to or something? I know I’m not what I used to be Steve, but…”

Steve felt his chest contract as he looked at his wife, his heart breaking that she could even think that he didn’t find her attractive. He hadn’t up until then given a second thought as to how his actions could be making her feel as insecure as he was and right now he hated himself for that.

“No, honey…it’s not that. God, it’s nothing, like that, at all.“

“Then is it someone else?” she cut him off quietly, raising her head to look at him, her eyes swimming with tears.

“What?” he looked at her, utterly stunned.

She swallowed, “I asked if there was someone else.” she held his gaze

“Jesus, fuck, no!” he shook his head, appalled at the mere mention of such a thing “Of course not.”

“So it is me.”

“Katie…stop…” He stepped forward and took both her hands in his “You’re beautiful. I swear this isn’t you-“

“Oh, don’t you dare give me the this isn’t you, it’s me line or I swear to God…” Katie glared up at him and he gave an exasperated groan.

“Honey, I swear…this has nothing to do with you.” he tried to assure her, pulling her in closer and wrapping his arms around him but it didn’t work.

“Then what is it?” Katie whispered into his chest and he pulled back to look at her, his hands cradling her face “Baby, talk to me.”

With a loud sigh he moved away, sinking onto the foot of the bed, He reached out, his hands on her hips and he pulled her in between his legs so she was stood looking down at him, her hand resting on his shoulders.

“I noticed a few things recently.” he said, his head looking down at the carpet. “About me…” he glanced up “You know how Bruce ran all those tests on me after I came back after those 15 years?”

“Yeah.”

“Well he said then that the serum wasn’t infallible. And that over time it would most likely work itself out of my system. But the older I got the faster that would happen.”

“I know Steve.” Katie frowned, “We went through all this.”

“Well I guess I just wasn’t prepared for how fast that was gonna happen, that’s all.”

“What do you mean?” she pressed “Are you sick?”

“No.” he shook his head “Nothing like that. Just…” he shook his head and snorted “God this sounds so vain but I guess I’ve gotten that used to looking in the mirror and seeing myself in such good shape, spotting that I’m changing…well, it was a bit of a shock and I was worried…”

“About what?” “That you might not…” “Oh, Stevie…” Katie blinked “That’s what this is about? Your stomach?”

“You noticed?”

“Well, yeah.” she shrugged, her hands rubbing his shoulders “I’m your wife…it hasn’t happened all of a sudden, it’s…” He groaned “I knew you’d seen…”

“Yeah, and I don’t care!” she sighed, shaking her head “Soldier,I know as much as anyone how hard it is coping with changes to your body.  And so do you, it must have been a shock when you actually had the serum in the first place…”

“It’s not just the muscles.” he sighed, waving a hand to his beard. “This is going grey, my hair is too. My knees were ever so slightly aching after my run the other day…”

“Ok, first off…this…” she reached down, her nails scraping through his beard “This is hot. There’s a reason Brooke calls you the silver fox… and why half your students write that they want to do very rude things to you on twitter, which by the way really grosses Emmy out…”  Steve chuckled a little, his hands sliding up the back of Katie’s thighs as she cocked her head and looked down at him. “And as for the rest of it, so what if you’re going a little...soft...around the edges.” “Soft?” he looked up at her, a small smile curling at the edge of his mouth.

“Well, it’s not like you’ve gone fat Steve.” Katie shrugged, “But whatever, the point is you’re hot and you still turn me the fuck on, maybe even more so now than when you were that pristine, fresh faced Brooklyn boy I first met in that Boxing Gym all those years ago.”

He looked at her, studying her expression as she cupped his face in her hands, keeping his gaze on her.

“And don’t tell me you don’t believe me because if you do that means you’ve been a big, fat liar about the fact you tell me that you find me even more sexy now than before we had kids.” she arched an eyebrow and he snorted a she moved to straddle him where he was perched on the end of the bed, her knees falling either side of his thighs.

“You’re the man I wake up to every morning, the man that kisses me fucking senseless, the man that’s helping me raise our children, the man who can still bring me straight to me knees with a single look my way.” she smiled.

“A single look?” he quipped.

“Yes, and you know it.”

He shook his head before he sighed, his hands resting on her hips. “I guess I’m just worried that one day…it’s all gonna be gone and…” “Remember what you said to me when I had Jamie?” Katie cut him off “When I was struggling with how I looked and to try and make me understand you asked me how I’d feel about you if we woke up one morning and the serum effects had all gone?”

She held his gaze before she continued “I told you then that it wouldn’t change a thing about how I felt about you. Did you believe me?”

Steve was silent for a second before he nodded “Of course I believed you, Doll..”

“So why on Earth would you suddenly think any of that has changed?” she looked at him “Serum effects or no serum effects… I don’t give a fuck Steve, you’re mine.”

Steve believed her, of course he did. He knew all this was in his head, but fuck if it wasn’t hard to let it take over, thinking back to being that little kid from Brooklyn that no one gave a second glance to.

“I got one word for you baby.” Katie said softly, her hands gripping at the hem of his Henley “Dumbasses.”

And jesus, suddenly he was catapulted back to that moment some 15 years or so ago on their first date,

“Well, personally, I think all those girls that picked Bucky over you were dubmasses. I’ve seen the photos of you before all this happened…” she raised her free hand and held out her index finger, and gestured up and down his torso “You were sweet”

He chuckled and took a drink of his beer “You know I heard that a lot…you’re really sweet and all but…“

“Like I said…”she leaned back in her chair slightly, “Dumbasses”

He shook his head as he peeked up at her, “Fucking hell I swear to God you can read my mind at times.”

“Nope…”she said, pulling his top up “I just know you. Now take this off.”

He arched an eyebrow but didn’t protest, instead he held his arms up so she could pull his henley over his head before she pushed him back, making him lay flat. He easily shifted them both, so they were a little further up the bed as her fingertips gently traced down his biceps.

“I love how you can wrap me in these, keep anything and everything from hurting me.” she looked at him, her eyes locked onto his as she started shifting slightly, her hands continued down his forearms before her fingers found his, lacing them together. “How your hands can be so gentle and soft yet also hard when I need them to be, how they’d kill for me, for any of us.”  she raised his left hand to her mouth and brushed her lips over his platinum wedding band “A soldier, a man made for fighting yet who’s  been nothing but gentle and loving with me and the kids…” she moved his hands to both her hips before she leaned down and pressed her lips to his, before she pulled back and smiled at him as she started sliding down his chest, peppering kisses down his sternum, the kisses punctuated by her words “my husband, my best friend, my lover, my baby daddy….”

Steve’s breath hitched a little as she moved downwards, lips gliding over his treasure trail and she peeked back up at him with those lust blown pupils and bit her bottom lip “You know how good this makes me feel, when you press against me over and over when you’re making me yours.”

She moved back so her hips were once more straddling his and Steve flexed underneath her. All that rubbing and brushing against him with every move she made had gotten him hard as fuck.  He was aching for her.

Feeling him she looked at him, grinning. “And there’s certainly nothing soft about that.”

Steve let out a little chuckle and he couldn’t help but relax and enjoy right where they were at that moment. “You might have had a hand in that.”

Katie grinned. She loved having that kind of power over him, it was a fucking turn on.

“I’ll have a hand in your pants in a minute Soldier.”

“A minute seems an awfully long time to wait…” he said, pushing up against her again as she let out a soft sigh at the feel of him.

“Another reason I love you.” she smirked “Because I know you’re gonna leave me seeing stars within the next half hour. 10 minutes if we’re skipping foreplay.”

“Is this not the foreplay Doll?” he asked, his hands gripping her hips, fingers brushing the strip of skin just above her sleep shorts where her top had ridden up slightly, and he groaned inwardly as he saw her nipples were hard, peeking at him though the soft material of her cami.

“We can call it that if you want…” she said, rolling her hips, grinding against him again.

“You’re killing me sweetheart.” he groaned.

She rolled her hips against his again, splaying her hands on his chest “Nope, I can’t feel a shred of weakness underneath me…” “Ok…” Steve said, and with a swift movement he flipped her over so he was underneath him drawing a startled gasp from her which merged into that adorable, dirty little giggle he knew and loved “I’m done talking now.”

“Good.” She said, fisting her hand in the chain round his neck she dragged him down for a fierce, demanding kiss before she pulled back and looked at him “Fuck me like you own me, Cap.”

Her words fired something in his belly and he let out the growl that had been bubbling in his throat. His lips pressed to hers as if his life depended on it, his hands reached down and grabbed the straps of her top, pulling down harshly, the sound of ripping fabric filling the room.

Katie pulled back and looked at him “Did you seriously just do that? Again?”

“Look, sweetheart.” he glanced at her “You told me to fuck you like I owned you. I’m trying. So shut up.”

Whatever quick response Katie had been thinking up died in her throat as with a quick movement Steve grabbed her hips and flipped her over, once more drawing that dirty little giggle that he loved so much from her throat. His fingers gently traced a line down from her neck to the base of her spine before he gripped at the flesh over her hipbones and pulled her upwards so she was presented in front of him. Taking more care this time, he slid her shorts down, before he shimmied out of his sweats, his fingers tracing the inside of her thigh, bending over, his lips following their path. As he got to the top of her inside thigh, his kisses became gentle bites and then without warning he inserted 2 fingers inside her.

“Fuck…” Katie stuttered, her hips bucking backwards. Steve’s fingers started to move, gently, then harder, his mouth kissing all around the top of her thighs as she moved back and forth, fucking herself on his hand. He watched her for a minute or so, his fingers curling and pushing…and then they stopped. Katie whimpered, and Steve smirked as he bent over, nipping at her neck.

“You know I love you, right?” he said softly, his mouth caressing her pulse point as she rolled her head back, his hand slid up to her throat holding her face still as he kissed her, hard.

“Yeah, I love you too Solider” Katie panted into his kiss.

His fingers danced over the soft skin of her outside thighs and both his hands pulled her backwards as he pushed straight into her, making her cry out softly at the depth.

His rhythm was slow at first, hands on her hips before he quickened, the depth of this angle driving Katie wild. She writhed and moaned as he filled her, brushing against that spot inside her and she couldn’t get enough of him, her face buried into the pillow, pelvis pushed back against him as he thrust in deeply, again and again.

“You’re all mine…” he said hoarsely as he leaned forward, his chest pressing into her back as his teeth grazed her ear, biting down softly, “There’ll never be anyone else, never baby girl.”

His voice was punctuated by his grunts as he thrust into his wife again and again, his fingers tightening on her skin, knowing full well he’d probably leave bruises but not giving a shred of care. And neither did she, the more people that saw those marks, the better, the signs she was his for the world to see…it drove her wild with passion and lust and she couldn’t help but rock back against him, begging him to push deeper, drive her to the edge and back again, which he was more than happy to do.

“Say you believe me…” Steve all but growled as he thrust into her fiercely, his hand tightening slightly around her throat causing her to grab at the sheets in her hand “Say you believe me that there’s no one who comes close…”

“I believe you…” Katie cried out loudly, her voice punctuated by desperate moans as she tilted her head back as he continued nipping at her neck, pounding into her. “No one else.”

She was lost, lost in the sensation of her soldier fucking her senseless, just like she had asked him to. Those hands that she loved, that were normally so soft and gentle with her were now gripping at her hips, curling into her soft skin, pulling her back with each thrust. His lips, the ones she was so used to whispering soft nothing into her ear, or placing gentle kisses to her neck were biting and sucking at her throat as if his life depended on it, praising her, telling her what a pretty girl, amazing momma and beautiful wife she was. Coupled with the consistent pounding between her legs she was lost in an utter whirl of love and lust and she could feel the coil in her belly beginning to tighten as Steve maintained his pace, not once relenting.

Steve could read the signs well enough by now to know she was close. Moving one hand he slid it down between her legs, stroking at her clit drawing a loud gasp from her lips as she bucked back onto him, her legs trembling.

“Stevie… I’m gonna…”

“Come on doll…” he said gently into her ear “Come for me…”

“Oh, God…”  her voice was low, soft, as her words became nothing but a babble of noises as she lost control, her body shaking as she cried out, the world tipping on its axis completely as she became completely unaware of anything other than the sensation between her legs as she came, hard, pulsing and tightening down around him.

Steve felt it, he always did, and he continued to drive into her, fucking her through it before he realised he wanted to see her, wanted those green eyes he knew and loved locked onto his, so with a quick pull back he moved out of her and flipped her over again onto her back before she could even think about what he was doing. With a grunt he buried himself into her again, propping himself up on his elbows, his hands cupping her face as his lips crashed onto hers for a dirty, sloppy kiss that was all mouth and tongue.

He reached down, grabbing at her knee, slinging it over her shoulder as he rutted into her, driving hard, over and over, the dirty noise of wetness filled the room, skin hitting skin as he picked up the pace driving and seeking his own release. Katie’s hands gripped at his back, her nails digging into his shoulders as he thrust again and again, her eyes locked onto his. His pupils were blown with desire, those baby blues she knew and loved had darkened to a steel grey and knowing that after 15 years and a lifetime of ups and downs that she could still elicit this effect on him was enough to blow her mind. She loved this man, with every single inch of her body, and always would.

Steve dropped his head, his hips not once faltering as his mouth nipped at her chest, sucking, biting, the bruises forming almost instantly but he couldn’t give a fuck. This woman was his, no one else’s, and in turn he wanted her to realise that. He needed her to understand that there wasn’t a single person on this fucking planet, hell, the universe that would ever make him feel like this. As his lips moved to that spot on her neck he dropped her leg down and felt her breath hitch again and she let out a soft wail, her hips bucking upwards as she wrapped her legs around him, heels digging into his ass.

“I got you baby…” he whispered, his voice punctuated by his own pants “Come on, give it to me…” With a gasp, her head titled back, eyes fluttered shut as her hands gripped at his strong arms and she came again which was enough to send him catapulting off the edge right behind her. Her legs grew tighter around his slim hips, gripping at him, pulling him closer as he stuttered, groaned and then pitched forward, his torso slick with sweat as he lay still, face pressed into her neck, surrendering to the utter bliss that consumed him.

Steve gently kissed Katie’s neck, breathing deeply. That had been intense and felt like it had risen from his very toes. His mind was still caught in that post-coital fog of bliss, and his body felt like it was light, floating even, but as Katie shifted underneath him, her lips gently pressing to his temple, he realised he wasn’t floating, nor was he light. He went to move, to roll off her but she caught him immediately, her hands flying to his arms as she looked at her.

“Don’t” she whispered.

“Honey I’ll crush…” “No, you won’t” she shook her head, “Relax, please soldier just…”

Steve licked his lips, and gently dropped back onto his elbow, pressing a little more of his weight on top of her. Katie sighed, her forehead resting on his collar bone, face nuzzling into his chest, her hands softly gliding up his back. Despite his worry, Steve felt himself relax into his wife as he held her in his arms. Katie sighed contently.

“Feels so nice, just lay here…” she said softly, pressing a kiss to his chest. “You always pull away far too fast.”

Steve took a deep breath “I don’t mean to Doll, I just know I’m way bigger and…” “Steve…” Katie moved her hand so she raised a single finger to his lips, shushing him “Stop.” After a moment or so of tensing up he allowed himself to relax completely, her hands dancing up his spine and he gave a soft hum of contentment as she pressed a kiss to his jawline and he felt her lips curl into a smile against his beard.

“What?” he asked softly, moving so he looked down at her.

“Nothing, just I love you.” she said honestly, her eyes locking onto his. “Forever.” Steve chuckled as he pressed his lips to hers “Good, because I’m not going anywhere.”

“Glad to hear it.” Katie smiled, brushing a hand through his hair “And for the record…I’m all about more cushin’ for the pushin’”

At that Steve let out a loud laugh as she giggled along with him, his mouth once more claiming hers

“Looks like I am too, baby girl.”

After another minute or so, Steve finally relented and moved, his softening cock pulling out as he rolled over onto his back, giving a sigh.

“You ok?” he asked.

“Yeah, course…I could use a drink though.” Katie smiled.

Steve leaned over, pressed a kiss to her mouth before he moved, located his boxers and after a promise of being back soon he headed out onto the landing.

Emmy emerged from her room at the same time, leaning on her doorframe as she shot him a look “You two are disgusting.”

“What?” he blinked, standing still as he looked at her.

“Seriously…you need to soundproof your room! I mean how would you feel if you heard me and Pete?” “I better not hear you and Pete.” he shot back, hands falling to his hips as he fixed his eldest with a glare.

She shrugged before she looked him up and down, and rolled her eyes “Fuck, I’m glad Brooke isn’t here…I’m sick of her telling me you’re a snack…”

With that she turned back into her room, shutting the door behind her. Steve stood still, looking at the now closed doorframe before he grinned to himself.

“Rogers, you still got it.” he laughed softly, before he bounded down the stairs to grab a bottle of water.

[wildflowerirwin]

Love is War - m.c. - Ch 1

Summary: When yeeyee meets a punk rock wannabe

Rating: PG-13

Words: 3k (yikers man)

Warnings: swearing

Kaela walked stepped out of the black town car and mentally cursed herself for agreeing to wear 6-inch heels on the red carpet. She thanked Andre, her bodyguard, as be helped her steady herself. “You’ve been wearing heels since you were a child, yet you still can’t get your footing.” Andre commented, earning a glare from Kaela.

“Thanks, but I’m aware.” She quipped, smoothing her silky, olive green dress. Andre followed closely as Kaela began her trek down the red carpet. She stood in front of the backdrop laced with ‘American Music Awards’ branding.

“Kaela Gold, over here!” Kaela recognized the voice belonging to her least favorite host, Ryan Seacrest. She plastered on a smile and walked toward him. She gave him a short hug, being sure to let him know she wasn’t in the mood for him.

“Hello, Ryan. You’re looking dashing this evening.” She spoke, almost impressed with her own bullshit compliment.

“Is this the same dress you wore to the Country Music Awards?” Ryan asked her, all but shoving his microphone down her throat.

“It happens to be, yes.” Kaela nodded. “It’s sentimental to me for several reasons, and it has pockets.”

“Oh, my God. It has pockets?” Ryan asked mockingly.

“Sorry to cut this short,” Andre lied. “She’s got other places to be.” He said, ushering her along. Kaela sighed softly as Ryan found his next victims.

“How can one human be so fucking annoying?” Kaela asked, pausing to adjust the strap on her shoe.

“He’s a straight white man, what do you expect?” Andre scoffed and held out his arm for her to balance herself.

“You’re right. I don’t know why I thought he’d be decent.” Kaela shook her head and continued walking. A genuine smile found her face for the first time all evening as she locked eyes with her long time best friend and mentor, Kacey Musgraves.

“I’m surprised they let you in here looking so good.” Kacey commented as she gave Kaela a bone crushing hug.

“Could say the same to you.” Kaela giggled and wrapped her arms around her friend. “Now, tell me, who should I be looking for tonight? You’re the one that knows all the gossip.”

“Well, Kane Brown is up for Male Country Artist and he happens to look like an actual angel 24/7.” Kacey said, looking down the carpet. “That guy you hooked up with at Jingle Ball is up for pop duo, but he’s got little chance of winning.”

“Not the only little thing he has.” Kaela giggled and linked her arm with Kacey’s as they walked. “Who else?”

“Well, that Australian band is up for International Rock Group and I’m hoping they get it. They’re fun guys.” Kacey shrugged.

“You know, I have a thing for foreign guys.” Kaela smirked and glanced over at the four tall Australians, currently posing like sorority sisters on bid day.

“You’re in luck, they’re all currently single.” Kavey smiled and nudged Kaela’s hip with her own.

“How do you know?” Kaela asked, looking up at her.

“I talk to the dark haired one sometimes. We’re good friends.” She shrugged and walked into the music hall with Kaela.

“Save me a seat, will ya? I’ve gotta get changed for my performance.” Kaela said, releasing Kacey’s arm.

“You’re gonna kill it out there.” Kacey giggled and gave her a quick hug before finding her seat. Kaela giggled to herself and walked backstage to the dressing room with her name on it. She stripped out of her gown and pulled on her fishnets, doing a couple squats to get them just right. She pulled on her PVC shorts and checked out her own ass in the mirror.

“Damn girl.” Kaela giggled to herself. She pulled the matching bandeau up over her breasts and chewed on her lip as she studied her appearance. Her auburn hair fell in ringlets across her shoulders and her highlight sparkled in the light. She was pulled from her thoughts as Andre rapped on her door gently.

“Hey, you’re on in 3 minutes. You need to get out here.” Andre said and Kaela picked up her heels.

“Okay, I’m coming.” She exited the room, pulling her heels on as she walked to her mark.

*** Michael wasn’t expecting to enjoy the yeeyee performance of Kaela Gold, but the lyrics of her song intrigued him.

You won't make yourself a name if you follow the rules

History gets made when you're acting a fool

“Who is this?” Michael asked, leaning toward Calum but keeping his eyes on the stage.

“Uh, I think her name’s Kyla or something.” Calum shrugged.

“It’s Kaela.” Ashton said, not looking up from his phone. “If I had known I’d have to sit through this yeehaw shit, I’d have charged my phone before we came.”

“I actually kinda dig this song.” Michael shrugged. “It’s not as yeeyee as some of the shit Luke listens to.”

“Stop calling George Strait ‘yeeyee.’” Luke rolled his eyes. “He’s a lyrical genius and I’m sorry you can’t hear that.”

“Country music has definitely gotten better in recent years, but that’s all thanks to my future wife, Kacey Musgraves.” Calum said, the other boys rolling their eyes.

“You do realize she’s already married, right?” Ashton asked, to which Calum simply shrugged.

“Marriages end.” Calum said, applauding with the rest of the crowd as Kaela exited the stage. Michael pulled out his phone as the hosts came back out. He typed the lyrics into Google and searched. He chewed on his lower lip as he clicked on her Wikipedia page, scrolling through.

Kaela Renee Gold, born February 19th, 1996 in Belmont, Louisiana got her start when she won the talent show at her local county fair. Gold has won two Grammy awards for Best Female Country Artist in 2016 and 2017.

Michael was pulled from his reading when Luke nudged him with his elbow. “It’s our category.” Luke said, bracing himself in his seat. Mike shoved his phone in his pocket and sat up in his seat as the hosts pulled open the envelope.

“The winner of Best International Duo/Group goes to..” Ellen DeGeneres pulled the card from the envelope and Michael’s hand found Luke’s. “5 Seconds of Summer!” Luke pulled Michael from his seat and hugged him tight, Calum and Ashton joining in on the hug. The four of them made their way onto the stage, Calum immediately reaching for the award as Michael was given the microphone.

“This is a huge honor for us. This is our first time receiving an award from the American Music Awards. Being four boys from Australia who are trying to make a name for themselves in this business, being able to receive this award is a dream come true. Thank you.” Michael smiled as the crowd applauded them off the stage.

“I can’t believe we actually won.” Ashton grinned, pulling the award from Calum’s hands.

“I can’t believe the American Music Awards have an international category.” Luke chuckled, posing with his bandmates as the crew took photos of them with their new award. They went back to their seats as Ellen announced the next category: Best Female Country Artist, which Kaela was nominated for.

“I hope my wife, Kacey Musgraves, wins this category.” Calum said.

“I’m rooting for that Kaela Gold girl. She was good.” Michael said, watching the screen as the camera found all the nominees. Kaela held Kacey’s hand as Ellen opened the envelope and announced her as the winner. “I’m good luck.” Michael chuckled.

“My yeehaw wife deserved to win.” Calum huffed.

“I didn’t even know you liked Kacey Musgraves that much.” Ashton said, looking at Calum.

“She’s hot as fuck, of course I like her.” Calum shrugged.

*** Michael tucked his phone into the pocket of his jeans as he walked into the club, the boys trailing behind him. The after party was already in full swing, but they didn’t mind. They were just happy to be invited. “Hey, congrats on the win.” Kacey smiled sweetly at Calum, who let out a childish giggle.

“Thanks.” Calum’s cheeks heated up as he looked at the floor. “I love you.” Kacey laughed, covering her mouth with her fingers.

“You guys are cute.” She smiled softly. “Can I buy y’all a round?”

“We’d love that.” Ashton grinned. “Sorry about my friend, he’s a little star struck.”

“Not a problem.” Kacey giggled and walked toward the bar.

“I’m in love with her.” Calum sighed heavily, leaning against Ashton.

“You’re insane.” Michael shook his head at his friend.

“Calum’s ‘wife’ is coming back with your new crush, and she looks very drunk.” Luke chuckled and sat at the hightop table as Kacey set the tray of shots down on the table.

“Boys, this is my friend Kaela.” Kacey smiled.

“We’re buddies.” Kaela said, downing a tequila shot from the tray. The four Aussies stared at her, their jaws dropping.

“I- how? Why?” Michael stammered, his eyes laced with confusion.

“You never seen someone take a shot of tequila without making a face before?” Kaela asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“No, I actually haven’t.” Michael said, glancing down at the tequila shot in front of him.

“It helps when you’ve 8 shots of vodka and 4 of fireball.” Kacey laughed and took a seat next to Calum. “My buddy likes to drink.”

“I don’t get to do it often, so I take advantage of nights like this. I want to get absolutely hammered tonight.” Kaela shrugged, downing another tequila shot.

“Who knew the yeeyee’s knew how to party?” Ashton chuckled, picking up the small glass of tequila. He poured it into his mouth, forcing it down his throat. His face screwed up in disgust, the alcohol overtaking his senses. “That tastes like straight ass.”

“It tastes like nail polish remover, but don’t ask me how I know what that tastes like.” Kaela said, waving down one of the waiters. “Can I get a vodka and sprite, please?”

“Coming right up, Miss Gold.” The waiter smiled before walking away.

“So, who are you guys?” Kaela asked as she turned back to the table.

“You don’t know us? Luke asked, surprised yet not surprised at the same time.

“You look a little familiar, but I am pretty drunk.” Kaela said, accepting the vodka and sprite from the waiter.

“They’re 5 Seconds of Summer. The Australian band.” Kacey said, taking her shot of tequila.

“American Apparel underwear.” Ashton said and Kaela gasped.

“I know you guys!” She smiled. “You were performing at the Teen Choice Awards when security escorted me out for trying to sneak into Dierks Bentley’s dressing room.”

“The yeeyee’s are wild.” Ashton laughed. “I’m telling you, we need to party with the yeeyee’s more.”

“What the fuck is a ‘yeeyee?’” Kaela asked, her eyes not leaving Ashton’s.

“I don’t know how to explain it. A yeeyee is a yeeyee.” Ashton said, looking at the boys. “Someone else explain it.”

“A yeeyee is someone who’s says ‘yeehaw’ unironically.” Michael said, still avoiding his tequila shot.

“What else am I supposed to say when I’m wrangling a wild bull?” Kaela asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

“My God, that’s the most yeeyee thing I’ve ever heard anyone say ever.” Michael laughed and passed her his shot. “I think you could use this.”

“Nuh uh, that’s for you.” Kaela giggled and slid the shot back to Michael. “Do the shot and I’ll let you pick a song for me and Kacey to do for karaoke.”

“Oh, you’re gonna regret that.” Michael laughed as he picked up the glass, drinking the disgusting liquid. He made a face as it went down. “Fuck, that’s disgusting.”

“Alright, what song are we doing?” Kacey laughed softly.

“Make them do the Sesame Street theme song.” Luke laughed. “That’d be hilarious.”

“Great idea.” Mike grinned and looked at the two girls. “You’ll be doing a yeeyee rendition of the Sesame Street theme song.” Kaela and Kacey went up to the stage, pulling up the song. The two of them sang the song as Michael recorded it for his Instagram story.

*** The night went on and many drinks were had. Michael knew he was drunk because the smile on his face could hardly falter. He leaned against the bar as Kaela talked. Neither of them knew how the conversation started or how it took a turn to where it was at now. Kaela was telling Michael the story of how she broke her first bone. “The bone fully came out of my skin. That’s what this scar right here is.” Kaela said, showing Michael the scar on her hand.

“Your bone actually came out? Like, out of your skin?” Michael’s face contorted in disgust.

“Yeah, it did.” Kaela said, pulling her hand from Michael’s.

“That’s absolutely disgusting, yet fascinating.” Michael said, his eyes finding Kaela’s. “Do you wanna get out of here? I’m starving.”

“Please.” Kaela giggled softly. “I could use a hotdog.”

“A hotdog?” Michael asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Preferably a gas station hotdog. A jumbo dog with ketchup and mustard.”

“That sounds incredible.” Michael laughed, linking his arm with hers. The two of them left the club, stepping out into the bustling street.

“This way.” Kaela said, bringing her hand down to Michael’s. She led him down the street to the corner gas station. “Well, don’t we stick out like a walnut in a pecan pie.” Kaela said, Michael’s head whipping to look at her.

“The fuck did you just say?” He asked, his features laced with confusion.

“Sorry, I forget not everyone is from the boondocks.” Kaela giggled softly as she grabbed a hotdog from the rollers.

“Where exactly are you from?” Michael asked as he grabbed himself a hotdog.

“A tiny town called Longfellow in southern Louisiana.” Kaela said, drenching her hotdog in ketchup and mustard.

“Typical small town? Nothing but corn fields, everyone knows everyone’s business, and everyone falls in love with the stranger their daddy hires to work on the farm?” Michael asked, taking a bite of his hotdog.

“No, some of us couldn’t afford farmhands to fall in love with. We fall in love with the cute, older cowboy down the road. But, as most cowboys do, they try to steal your land and then they run away to Texas with your best friend.” Kaela shrugged and took a bite of her own hotdog, some ketchup dripping down on her dress.

“That was oddly specific.” Michael chuckled, gently wiping the ketchup from her dress. “How’d you get started in music, anyways? I thought it was impossible for the tiny town musicians to actually make it.”

“It certainly isn’t easy.” Kaela said, handing the cashier a $5 bill as she walked out with Michael. The two of them sat on the curb as they ate their hotdogs, neither one of them caring about the flashing lights of the paparazzi. “I used to sing at the bar in town. I started singing there when I was about 13. When I was 17, I was singing at the bar and a producer was there. He had some car trouble and ended up in my town. He heard me sing, asked for my demo, and signed me to his label. He produced my first album, which flopped. They dropped me and then I was fortunate enough to be signed to Columbia.”

“So, it was a one in a million chance?”

“Absolutely. I’ve got two albums out now, I won an incredible award tonight.” Kaela smiled. “I’m just lucky, I guess.”

“You and me both.” Michael smiled and finished his hotdog.

“So, Michael Clifford, tell me a secret. Something fans don’t know.” Kaela said as she finished her hotdog.

“A secret? Well, I photoshopped my Spotify wrapped because it exposed me as a yeeyee.” Michael said, nudging her shoulder with his own. Kaela giggled and rolled her eyes playfully.

“I mean a real secret, Mikey.” Kaela smiled, resting her head on his shoulder.

“You tell me one.” He chuckled, wrapping an arm around her waist and resting his hand on her thigh.

“Alright..” Kaela moved closer to him as she kept her head on his shoulder. “I’m afraid of both my parents dying. It hasn’t happened yet, but I know it will someday and it terrifies me.. I don’t know what I’ll do when I don’t have either one of them to count on.”

“Are they still together?” Michael asked, his thumb rubbing against the exposed skin of her thigh.

“No..” Kaela sighed. “They split up in ‘94 just a couple months after I was born. My parents were high school sweethearts, but the immature love they had in high school didn’t last through graduation and an unplanned pregnancy.”

“I’m sorry..” Michael sighed, hugging her into his side. “Are you still close with them?”

“Yeah, absolutely. As a kid, I only saw my dad every other weekend. When I started singing, he came to the bar every time to support me. He bought me my first guitar and taught me how to play. He’s always been my best friend.” Kaela smiled softly to herself as tears filled her eyes. “My mom moved back in with my grandparents after the breakup. She raised me with them and I couldn’t have asked for a stronger mother.”

“She did an amazing job.” Michael smiled to himself. Kaela sniffed quietly and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

“Your turn, tell me your secret.” She said, lifting her head to look at him.

“Since we’re getting personal.. I’m scared of being the forgotten member of 5 Seconds of Summer. I know the band isn’t going to last forever, and I know everyone’s gonna remember the band.. But I’m scared of becoming ‘that other guy.’” Michael sighed. “It’s always going to be Luke Hemmings, Calum Hood, Ashton Irwin, and that one dude that did stuff sometimes.”

“Oh, bugaboo..” Kaela sighed, cupping his cheek gently. “You’re not gonna be forgotten. You’ll always be remembered to me.” She whispered, her eyes not leaving his. For some reason, it was enough for him. Michael’s lips found hers and slipped tenderly against them. For a brief moment, being with her was enough for him to feel at ease with the world.

Taglist: @lukescherrypie@calumculture@kinglycalum@babylon-corgis@novacanecalum@lfwallscouldtalk@dontdoitluke@isabella10028@calumamongmen@bumblebet-20@lockthisheartinchains​@bitterbethany​@sublimehood​@myloverboyash​@ironicallyirwin​@lashtoncurls​@mukesreject​@sanfrancjsco​@boytoynamedcalum​@opinionatedpisces-official​@blahehblah​ @lukehemmings​@calum-uncrowned​@findingliam-o​ @gh0st-0f-y0u-95​

[arthurjdrake]

A chance bonding experience over pie, tea and haunted tape recorders with @damn-fine-cup-of-tea

“February twenty-ninth, it is 9.30am. The air still reeks of fish although I could swear that it has gotten better since I first got here. I still haven’t managed to get the name for those beautiful pine trees they have here. I was told they had moose. I must see a moose before I leave this town. I’m going to the bakery. Carol, if you ever get up this way, the apple pie at the diner is to die for. I must find out if they make it themselves, or if it is the same as the one from the baker. They don’t have proper tea here, and I had to go to Bangor to get my hands on tea leaves. Remind me to tell you how much that was. The people here are quite lovely, although I will have to notify the ATF and possibly the NSA about some of the inhabitants.” The agent stood still in the office they had given him at the police station. A tape recorder in his hand, Javier glanced and nodded politely at a police officer passing by the door before he went on : “I had the strangest dream last night. One of the deceased, a woman called Catherine Brissaud visited me in my dreams and kissed me. She looked beautiful but there was something off about her voice, she spoke gibberish. Then, she opened her mouth and a man’s voice came out of it telling me that it would kill again. There was this music in the back I cannot get out of my head, Carol. This is all very upsetting. I still have no clue on who could possibly have done it, why, or how? None of the victims showed wounds, and still, their entrails are all missing. All of it. I might need to stay here a bit longer than we imagined.” Grabbing his coat from the back of his chair, the man decided to head to the bakery by foot, his thermos of tea in his hand. At last, a good proper cup of tea. Pushing the door to the bakery, he waited in line, glancing around the shop, searching for something, anything that would possibly catch his eye. That man in the corner with a cockatiel pattern on his tie surely seemed interesting.

With the recent keying of his car, Arthur had taken to walking places. Better that than risk further damages to his property from Freyja’s vague and self-serving ire. The very thought of everything that had happened online was enough to send him stir crazy if he stayed inside any longer. No, he needed a trip out to one of the few places he found some peace in this mad place. There was also the current issue of sorting out Nadia’s identity and Adam’s current curse from that blasted chalice. Jobs and side-tasks were stacking up faster than he could keep up with but in a way he was thankful for the distractions. Explaining how he ended up joining the queue tapping out a couple of quick replies to several of the emails in his inbox. With those sent he tucked his phone away and he could turn his attention to a few of the other patrons of the quiet bakery and associated coffee shop. He looked at the display case and hummed in thought unsure what to get - he never had been very good at making decisions. “Sorry,” he said to the man in front of him hoping it wasn’t a real bother “excuse me, I’m rather stuck on what to go for… Do you think the apple or the passionfruit one is better?”

“No harm done,” Javier turned around and gave the man a thorough look, his eyes travelling all across him before he gave him a pat on the arm. “I think, and this is only my opinion, that there is nothing better than a good, old fashioned, properly made, apple pie,” he released the man’s arm to point his finger at the pie behind the glass. “And this, looks exactly like a good, old fashioned, properly made, apple pie.” The crust/filling ratio appeared to be nearing perfection, as did the cooking of the apple, or the color of the dough that covered it all. And, this was really the cherry on top of it all : the pie was decorated very tastefully. Maybe this would help him forget about the town’s apparent aversion for a proper cup of tea. “You are British, aren’t you?” Javier was sure of that, but it never hurt to ask. “What do you think of the tea situation in this town?”

Arthur was quite accustomed by now to being inspected by strangers, and in a town like this his accent tended to make him stick out like a sore thumb. He didn’t mind, so he waited and smiled politely taking in the other man’s appearance in kind, at a guess he seemed of an age to himself - at least physically. The greeting was friendly in kind, which settled any initial concerns that he might have bothered this stranger with his question. It was a nice change considering it seemed a majority of those he’d met significantly younger. At least beyond Carrington but that was another dynamic entirely and gave merit to the fact that you could hardly tell people’s actual ages from initial observation. “I think you might be right,” Arthur found himself agreeing tapping his bottom lip thoughtfully “especially with this wintery weather.” The cold hardly bothered him but it hardly meant a warm treat every now and then wouldn’t go amiss. “I feel like I haven’t had a good apple pie in ages,” baking hadn’t been the highest of priorities on his list lately but it was something he was keen to get back into. His smile grew a tad wry at the stranger’s next question, “damn, what gave it away?” he asked in light jest. “Definitely not the accent, was it my fondness for weather discussions and freshly baked goods?” His grin turned to a mournful look though the humour remained in his tone, “oh gods it’s atrocious. Don’t even get me started. I turned up for my first day and asked where the kettle was - they didn’t even have one. They microwave it.” He shook his head in mild disbelief over this “have to get people from back home to send me yorkshire brew or else I’d lose my mind.” He glanced at the thermos, “I’m guessing you feel the same?”

“The weather is quite something,” Javier commented, idly tapping his finger on top of his thermos, in tune with that song he had heard in his dreams. God, that thing was stuck in his head. “Talking of which,” it may have not smelled like fish in the shop, and in fact, the whole place smelled very nice, but the agent had to ask about that damn smell. “Does it always smell like fish in this town?” It seemed odd to him that people would ever decide to settle and live in such a place. He kept a stern look on his face, although there was always a hint of playfulness in his eyes as he spoke. “Then you must have a slice of apple pie. Maybe you can sit with me. I’ll share the tea,” he offered. It would be a great opportunity to discuss with the locals, who, even if they were not connected with his case, helped him draw a better picture of the town and what could possibly be insidiously corroding, gnawing it. “I will say, that the accent sold you out, and the talk of weather and pastries confirmed my doubts,” he politely replied, glancing over the man’s shoulder to have a look at someone who had just walked in. Their socks did not match. He wondered if this had been done on purpose or not. “Funny.” He said, turning his attention back on the British man. “Of course they would. I have had people tell me that tea in bags was not so bad. It’s atrocious !” He shook his head, clearly disapproving of that kind of affirmation. “You are the third person who tells me they have to order tea from across the sea. I’m sure there’s a lot more of upset tea lovers in town.” Something had to be done about this. As it was his turn to order, the agent turned toward the saleswoman with a bright smile. “I will have a slice of pie, please,” he glanced at the man. “And the man after me, will have another one of those.”

Arthur had become relatively accustomed to the smell, but at least it had stopped raining fish. Small mercies. Yet, as the other man asked after it he shrugged. “I have no idea honestly… There was some weird meteorological event… Raining fish. Whole town was covered. But it’s definitely been getting a damn lot better since that stopped.” He didn’t mention the chest, or the fact that since he’d heard through the grapevine that it’d been opened that the weirdness had stopped. “How can I deny an offer like that?” he smiled, genuinely grateful for the offer this stranger extended out. “Then at least let me buy you some of the apple pie to say thank you for the kindness of sharing the tea,” it was the least he could do. The laugh that was drawn from him was light, “ahhh, guilty as charged.” It wasn’t entirely true, but true enough for this lifetime that he’d subscribed to the general notion. “Heathens, the lot of them. I’m telling you.” The disapproving look the stranger got was rather amusing overall. “Oh, most definitely. We should start a club.” They moved up and Arthur let the other man order for them both, taking his card out to cover the payment “I’m Arthur by the way, I didn’t catch your name mister-?”

Raining fish. It must have been a local expression, a derivative of it’s raining cats and dogs. Although, Javier could imagine that a storm could cause fish to end up in the atmosphere and rain down on a coastal town such as White Crest. There was nothing too weird here. “That’s funny,” he let a thin smile tug the corner of his lips upward. The town seemed to be rather normal, but the people here were a bit odd. The man he was talking to seemed quite normal, compared to the rest of them, although it was a bit early to be certain about that. “That is a very kind offer,” he nodded politely and moved aside to let his new tea friend pay for the pie. Javier wondered whether he should be introducing himself as an agent or as a citizen. It was unlikely that this person would have anything to do with his case, or he was truly the luckiest investigator this town had ever seen. “Javier, I’m Javier Sterling,” he had made his choice. Little did he know that he would not be able to be just a citizen for long, or that his tape recorder had developed a mind of its own and decided to record his conversation with Arthur. Sitting at a table by the windows, Javier walked back to the counter to ask for cups. If he clearly disapproved of paper cups, he did not comment on it as the saleswoman handed him those, and he walked back to the table to pour them each a cup of tea. This one had been advised by one of the people he spoke to online, and he had high hopes and expectations about it.

“You think I’m joking?” he glanced at the man, and the look on his expression earned a momentary thought of ah, of course you do. A majority of the cod and salmon had been cleared away from the streets, but Arthur still noticed the occasional one dotted around down. One had even been on the spear of a statue in down, talk about being skewered. “Least I can do,” Arthur said pleasantly as Javier stepped aside and he could pay for the two slices of pie. With the introduction Arthur offered an extremely warm hand out for a polite greeting “Arthur Drake if you’re going for full formality.” Once they were cut and served on plates with a couple of forks, Arthur picked them up and carried them over to the table. “So, what brings you to White Crest?” he queried as he slid into one of the seats at the table pulling one of the two plates over as Javier sorted out the tea “I mean, beyond the picturesque scenery and excellent apple pie? Somehow you don’t strike me as the small town kinda guy.”

Javier looked at the man with a perplexed look on his face, trying to figure out if this was some sort of elaborate joke. The puzzled look on his face did not really fade away until Arthur held out his hand and Javier shook it firmly, hoping that this conversation about the falling fish would stop now. “Drake. El dragón,” he commented, before he turned his back on the man. Sitting at the table, he took some time looking outside, although there was nothing special that caught his eye this time. Getting his coat off of his shoulders, the agent unbuttoned his suit’s jacket to get more comfortable. Besides, nothing looked worse than a man sitting with a closed jacket. “What brings you to White Crest?” The question was repeated, with echo, the chatter of the bakery amplified. Javier had just opened his mouth to reply, but the sound did not come from his mouth, but rather from his coat. The agent frowned, glancing at the piece of clothing. Could he have both pushed the record and play buttons by accident? There was a sound of rewinding tape for a couple seconds before the tape recorder started saying : “ get out of my head, Carol. This is all very upsetting. I still have no clue on who could possibly have done it, why, or how? None of the victims showed wounds, and still, their entrails are all missing. All of it.” When Javier got his hands on the tape recorder, he realized that none of the buttons were pushed, and still the tape played. Great, the damn thing was broken. “Excuse me,” he said, ejecting the tape and putting it away in a case. “I’m here with the FBI,” he sighed.

Ah well, he would learn soon enough. Arthur was hardly here to blow the man’s mind, so left him to his ignorance for the time being. “Indeed,” the translation that Javier picked up on was just part of the irony of each name he picked. Though most tended to overlook the fact. Pulling the cup towards him he first took a sip and hummed quietly in appreciation. Just the right strength. He waited on Javier’s response to his question, but what happened next had Arthur furrowing his brows in confusion. Victims, wounds, entrails missing? He looked to the coat in question suspiciously and then at Javier frantically fiddling with it once he’d pulled out the apparent recorder. “Uh…” he blinked a little caught off guard while Javier dealt with his screwy technology “sure…” Though he couldn’t help but frown a little with the clarification that Javier was with the FBI, “I see…” he caught himself and sat up a little straighter already having a suspicion this man was here for more than just the apple pie “well, seems like something important brought you to town.” He tilted his head in mild curiosity, “a case?”

Javier pursed his lips. Putting the tape recorder next to his cup of tea, he grabbed the latter and took a sip of it before he answered Arthur's question. Judging by the look on the man’s face, it was necessary for Javier to explain himself. He idly snapped his fingers, staring at them as he focused on what he would tell him. “A case.” He repeated, grabbing his fork to take a bite of the apple pie. His eyes shut closed as a pleased expression erased any trace of worry the tape recorder had given him. Groaning happily, the agent snapped out of it after a few long seconds. Right, the case. “We have five people with their insides missing,” he added, having swallowed his bite. “That apple pie is, excuse me, fucking amazing,” he stared at his place with the most delighted look on his face. “What about you? Where do you work?”

Arthur couldn’t entirely help how his eyes flickered to the tape recorder, a paranoid part of his mind wondering whether their conversation had been recorded. Were there others in town like him? Did that mean that other people might’ve been recording and documenting things? It was a slight worry inducing thought and he couldn’t help the slight tap of his foot. He’d forgotten about the apple pie in his minor moment of paranoia, but as Javier began to explain why he was here he felt some of the knotted tension ease. Well, at least they weren’t here for other reasons… At least not yet. “Sounds rather suspicious…” he remarked as he thought on the roster of things that might be capable of such violence or potential feeding habits, though admittedly he didn’t know them off by rote “but… the recording said there were um-- no wounds did it say?” It was only at Javier’s remark that Arthur remembered that he too had some, picking up his fork he cut through the pie and had a bite pleasantly surprised at the explosion of cinnamon and sugary apple that hit his palate. “Damn… You’re right.” He took another bite, but at Javier’s question Arthur swallowed and took a sip of tea to clear his mouth. “Ah, just up at the college... I lecture in the history and mythology department.”

Javier pointed at his face, his round cheeks suggesting that he was in the middle of eating another bit of that superb pie. Chewing slowly, he took his time to finish his bite as it took more than a discussion about missing guts for the agent to lose his appetite. “No wounds, nothing in common between the victims, no traces of effraction. It’s as if a ghost murdered them all,” picking up the paper napkin to wipe at the corner of his mouth, he glanced again at the tape recorder. He could have sworn that he had seen it move. He did not recall pushing any of the buttons, and yet the pause button was pressed in. And now the stop button, without him touching it. “Well that is odd,” he took the machine in his hand, inspecting it closely. “I’ll have to order a new one,” he thought aloud, putting it away in his coat. "That sounds fantastic,” he gave the man a thumb up, picking up his cup to take a sip of tea. “I find both of those subjects to be absolutely fascinating,” he explained. Javier was delighted that he had had the chance to run into a teacher as he believed that this was one of the most generous professions one could have.

He didn’t particularly wish to rush the pie as it was exceptionally good, so he took to sipping on his tea mulling over the tidbits of the case this agent was working on. This was hardly the first time he’d discussed weird and gruesome things over food so he wasn’t particularly put off by it. “Strange, is there any sort of similarity between the victims? Gender, ethnicity, age?” Most killers had some sort of profile that they worked to, Arthur might not have been in the service in this lifetime but he knew the protocol. Had stuck to it himself in recent lifetimes. As Javier picked up the tape recorder that had seemingly pressed its own buttons, Arthur narrowed his eyes a little suspicious of the little device that seemed to have developed a mind of its own. “Can I have a look at that?” Javier had taken the tape out so Arthur hardly saw any harm in asking to have a closer look. The thumbs up earned a humbled smile, “ah, they certainly are that. Though the FBI seems like a fascinating job. Serving your country and keeping people safe, I’m sure there’s nothing else quite like it.”

Javier rubbed at his chin for a moment as he thought about the different victims. They had nothing, truly nothing in common, aside from being found dead, with nothing left inside their abdomen. Thinking about this reminded him of his dream and that woman he saw. Catherine Brissaud. Shaking her out of his mind, he sipped silently on his tea. “Nothing, absolutely nothing. Ethnicity, age, gender, hair color, fragrance, occupation, hobbies. I have been looking at their whole lives and nothing is similar so far,” he explained. He had not expected that Arthur would find his tape recorder to be so interesting, and now that there was no tape in it, what wrong could it do. He handed over the device, not sure what the man could probably do to fix it, although maybe Arthur had a few other skills up his sleeve. “It is an amazing job. I do not think I could really make a change any other way.” Javier had considered working as a police detective a long long time ago, but travelling and working on cases like this one was a lot more gratifying to him.

“Well… That sounds both horrifying and utterly perplexing,” Arthur couldn’t help but be equally fascinated and terrified by the thought of something like that. “And you’re certain it’s the same…” he caught himself from saying thing “person… doing this? What about location? No apparent circle theory?” Arthur knew a little about psychological models of criminal behaviour, having studied history of different eras it was pertinent to have some understanding of how criminals behaved and acted in their attempts to avoid capture. As Javier retrieved the tape recorder, Arthur slid it over and turned it over thoughtfully inspecting the buttons. Pressing one to let it play though no sound came out (as he expected) considering there was no tape. He tested each button individually, finding nothing out of the ordinary about it. Interesting. “I suppose most people think of the police or the army when they think about serving their country, but the FBI is pretty darn impressive.” As he spoke, Arthur ensured all buttons weren’t pressed or locked and set it back down on the table in front of him mostly to keep an eye on it. “How’d you come into that field? Not something you just walk into surely? If you don’t mind me asking that is.”

“The way of killing is too specific to be done by several people, unless we’re looking at a cult, of course.” Javier rubbed his fingers against his jawline for a moment. “Considering the murders have been taking place in the same town, there is not a lot we can do to establish a possible location for the culprit’s home.” Obviously whoever was doing this must have been from White Crest, but drawing a profile for them was nearly impossible. “I expect that they’ll make a mistake. They always do,” serial killers were not very original, but how long it took them to start being reckless, to start playing with the press, or law enforcement, was never a set number of days. If only it had been so simple. Javier watched Arthur inspect his tape recorder. He remained quiet, although he still wondered what it was the man was trying to achieve, pushing buttons and staring at them. There was no judgement in his eyes, and he looked at him with marvel in his eyes. “People tend to forget that we also serve our country and not just the Bureau. We have to thank television for this,” looking out the window, his eyebrows raised as he saw a familiar silhouette standing on the other side of the road. Once again, they disappeared the moment something blocked his view. “I’ve always wanted to work in law enforcement. Back when I was a child, we used to hear about the FBI a lot on television. I started sending letters to the FBI director that summer.”

“Not something you could rule out I suppose,” Arthur remarked as he mulled over the few bits and pieces that Javier had provided regarding his reasoning for being here. “I mean if it’s in the same town then surely the culprit has to be living within the vicinity of the town? So, it narrows it down at least in that regard…” He looked out the window towards the street, watching as a couple of people walked by unassuming. How many people could this case put at risk? Too many. Perhaps it was a good idea to offer assistance and simply observe this agent’s progress. Putting such a creature away would likely benefit everyone, but there was a small concern in the back of his mind that innocents could equally incriminate themselves considering the… special population variation that White Crest possessed. “Perhaps, but how long do you wait until that happens?” Arthur completed his inspection and frowned, turning his attention to Javier with his remark. “Yes, television provides a great many unhelpful stereotypes. Perhaps success will make some think differently at least?” He could understand the draw of law enforcement. It was a noble profession. “That’s quite a direct approach, I guess you made quite an impression if that’s how you got into the business,” Arthur grinned wryly at the thought of a young boy writing to the FBI asking to join them one day. It was rather endearing in a sense. “And you’ve been with them ever since? That’s rather impressive.”

“It has not been ruled out.” Javier had, over the years, specialized in working on crime related to those sort of organizations. All these grotesque deaths, however… Those didn’t happen all too often. Usually with them, it was rituals that ended up in an accident, or, a human sacrifice. This seemed different. There seemed to be nothing that indicated a freak accident or a sacrifice. There were no signs, sigils, drawings, books. He took out his notebook and wrote himself a memo to have a look at all the books in the victims’ homes. A chore, but one that he would do anyway. “Maybe they’ve already done it,” he looked up from his notebook as he closed it, putting it away. He probably had missed something, a detail, when he went to those crime scenes. He would have to be more thorough. “Well, I only joined when I finished training at the academy,” he scoffed. The thought of 11 years old him running around with a cardboard badge after his older brother came back to his mind and he laughed some more, shaking his head. Boy, did he bore his brother to death with his stories back then.

“How long has all this been going on for?” he asked curiously “no symmetry with calendar dates or lunar cycles?” There was always some sort of pattern that came with things like this, or at least there tended to be. It was simply a matter of finding it that was the issue. Arthur lightly drummed his fingers on the table in thought. “Are all the crime scenes in town? Perhaps there is something that might have been overlooked?” While he had no particular investment in assisting, a part of him couldn’t help but be curious as to what might be responsible for these murders. “Perhaps you need another set of eyes aiding you with the case?” In a past life this had been the exact same sort of work he’d been employed to do. To locate and track moving targets and attempt to pinpoint their location, admittedly on a larger scale than a single murderer or cult potentially responsible for such things. “Was there any sign of forced entry at the properties?” Of course, he knew Javier had no particular reason to divulge any information regarding the case at all but it never hurt to ask. Did it?

“There is some sort of regularity to this,” it had nothing to do with the moon, or with a day of the month in particular, but there was indeed a pattern. More or less every three weeks, a person died. This comforted him in his idea that he was dealing with a cult. They killed when they needed to, no more, no less, taking only what was necessary. The agent finished his slice of pie and wiped his mouth with a lot of attention before he replied. “There is no doubt that we missed something. Either that, or we are dealing with a ghost,” he shook his head and sighed. Rubbing at his face, Javier looked at Arthur through his fingers for a moment, entirely still and silent. “We’ll see. We don’t usually ask our consultants to inspect crime scenes. But if you find something interesting, I might have to make you tag along,” his hands dropped down onto his lap. He shook his head at Arthur’s next question, a thin smile appearing on his face. He could tell that the man was interested, but Javier wondered if his interest would falter as he found out that there was, so far, no way to identify the killer, or even start drawing a loose portrait of them.

“Oh? And what’s that?” considering they were already discussing this at length he didn’t see any harm in asking. It was only in the interim of discussion that Arthur chose to look down at the tape recorder and frowned a little at how a couple of the buttons he’d unpressed earlier were now pressed and the little cogs turning inside of the machine. Interesting. “You know, in this town I wouldn’t say that too loudly… Some people might really believe you if you said you were dealing with a ghost… Lots of folks believe in that around here, maybe it’s why your killer is getting away with things so freely hm?” he smiled a touch wryly at the agent, more in good humour the man sat opposite him was painfully human in his limited mindset. It was unfortunate really, he wouldn’t catch anything with that sort of mindframe. Arthur reached for a napkin which he unfolded and set on the table on top of which the recorder was placed. Next, he took one of the salt shakers and carefully unscrewed the lid and made a ring of salt around the device. A rite was spoken under his breath, and a grey cloud of something intangible shot out of the little speaker of the device. With this done, he picked up the recorder and inspected it once more. “I know you don’t,” Arthur said in simple understanding, he knew the protocols perhaps not the modern day ones but things hadn’t changed all that much in a century. The objective was still the same, gather the relevant evidence and hunt down the killer in question. “But, and correct me if I’m overstating - but I’m not sure the typical means of case operation will solve this mystery and I think you might’ve already begun to realise that… Plus, if I find something - it gives you a lead. If not…” he tilted his shoulder a little “no harm done. So, what do you say detective?” The question was posed with the offering of his tape recorder back - likely in fully functioning condition now if what Arthur suspected had been inhabiting it was right.

“I think it will happen again. In a week or so,” Javier replied, picking up his cup of tea and frowning at it. Lukewarm. Wrinkling his nose, he looked away from Arthur as he emptied a salt shaker on the table, too busy pouring himself a new cup of tea. If could see what he was doing from the corner of his eyes, it was not until he had put his thermos away that Javier looked at the state of the table then up at Arthur’s face. If he remained completely silent, you could tell from the look on his face that he disapproved of this. Picking up the napkin carefully, he wrinkled it in his hand so as not to make a mess, and put it in his plate, making sure that not one bit of salt would fall to the floor or on the table. “There was no need to pour out the salt shaker. I better not start mentioning folklore monsters that require being stabbed to you,” not that they had cutlery that could cause a problem, but Javier had already been stabbed with a fork in the past, and knew that this was far from pleasant. “So, people think ghosts are real then. What else?” Vampires, fairies, Big Foot, el Cuco? Having spent quite some time near New Orleans, Javier was used to people believing in weird stories, or telling them to their children to traumatize them (which was a custom Javier did not understand). Having taken care of this salty mess, the agent took his tea cup and listened to the professor’s explanation. It was not an unexpected offer, and on other occasions, he had been given the same one by other men and women before. All he needed to know was whether or not Arthur would pose a problem in the future. He did not seem like someone who would get in his way, or do dangerous things for the sake of helping him. First taking the recorder back from Arthur’s hand, he nodded quietly before explicitly replying : “Alright. I suppose we have an agreement here.”

His point made and task completed, Arthur looked slightly amused at the disapproving look Javier fixed him with. “Just trying to make a point at the strange thing people will do if you mention stuff like that around here.” The act was both meticulous in its layout and answered certainly enough what he’d suspected about Javier having no clue about the truth of this town. “Actually, most folklore indicates that beheading is usually the best course of action against most of those tall-tale beasties.” But he tipped a shoulder as Javier mentioned about ghosts, “I’ve actually found the people here believe in a lot more than just ghosts…. You’ll see soon enough.” He clasped his hands in front of him on the table waiting quite patiently, Javier didn’t have to take him up on the offer but it was there regardless and his interest was quite plain to see. “Very well,” he took out his wallet and fished out a simple black card embossed with his details in calligraphic silver script which he slid across the table with his index and middle finger. “Contact me a time that suits, I’ll be happy to come and offer any assistance I can that might be of any pertinent use.” He stacked the plates and cutlery, picking up the spare cup. “Thank you again - for the tea and the company. I look forward to hearing from you,” with a polite dip of his head Arthur delivered the plates to the counter to save the waitress from collecting them, collected his bag and made for the door.

[kshitij1997]

Welcome back!

Well, the die has been cast, and Europe shall endure the consequences. Or will it?

Onward with the story :)

All Frozen and Tangled characters belong to Disney. All I own is this retelling and some original characters.

Chapter 10: Felino the crooked nose

 

February the 5th, 1828,

‘You’re a frigid, wormy piece of shit, you know that?’, growled the recently anointed Tsar at the Arendellian Monarch. Not a good sign for the conference the concert of Europe had arranged; the Monarch of Arendelle was hellbent on closing his country yet again, and no one was willing to budge on their stance.

‘I care not for the impression you choose to have about me, your majesty. I have my reasons and my fears to support my decision. I have to do what I feel is best for my kingdom, as would you if you faced a decision of a similar magnitude.’ Agnarr stated his position calmly, even as he felt no genuine respect for the Russian Monarch. Unlike his late brother, Tsar Nicholas the first had no great capacity for empathy and understanding. He had chosen to keep himself and his people ignorant. After all, what could one say of the sovereign who treated his highest officials and closest advisors like the serfs he saw them to be, and the holy synod under him bragged openly about how it was their god given duty to keep the downtrodden as they were. Oh, how their man, Sergei Uvarov, the Tsar’s minister of education, openly declared: “If I can extend Russia’s childhood another fifty years I will consider my mission accomplished.”

Oh, the Tsar saw himself as a god, and a jealous one at that. Agnarr understood that and knew that as a fellow sovereign, the Tsar could do little but rant in his face for the insult. Even if he would want to wage war upon Arendelle, he wouldn’t wish to give up access to the only warm water seaport he had. Still, Agnarr’s worries were far greater than some disgruntled people in power.

Elsa had lost control of her powers and was crippled in her fear, Anna had been forced to selective amnesia from Grand Pabbie, leaving no trace of Elsa’s powers and Olva...well she hadn’t been so fortunate. Against the advice of Grand Pabbie, he and Iduna had insisted on the procedure of wiping her memory clean of Elsa’s powers and the accident. The hermit warned of the consequences he was facing now with Olva, but how was he to know in his panic and desperation? Now the poor girl had begun experiencing fits and severe headaches, along with bouts of fainting for several minutes. He hadn’t slept this past month properly in the worry of what could happen to his family. Now he had a solution, and he would not back off from it. He must protect his family in any way possible. He must.

‘Your majesties, please don’t antagonise each other. This concerns all of us. You’re not the only ones troubled here. King Agnarr, you’d best explain yourself.’, queen Sophia spoke firmly as she presided over the conference. Agnarr’s declaration had shocked everyone, and he was yet to provide an explanation.

‘Thank you, queen Sophia. I have no intent on stepping on anyone’s face or insulting anyone. This sudden policy of isolation is a measure of precaution. I have it on reliable sources and personal knowledge that there are elements of revolution and insurgency brewing up in my kingdom. I can’t ignore it like the previous bourbon king of France in his time, god rest his soul. I must deal with these rebels quickly and with extreme prejudice. Because if I don’t then Arendelle falls forever, and if Arendelle falls, all northern Europe shall sink along with it.

And before you decide on persecuting war against me, ask yourselves this. Haven’t we had enough of war? We saw 2 decades of war followed by a decade of relative peace. If you ask me, I’d rather prefer the latter. I make this tough choice for the safety of all Europe, please understand.’

He paused to size up the room, who could be his allies and enemies hereafter. Corona and Austria-Hungary were definitely his allies; he knew Reginald would support him in the end. Weselton and the English would be against it; his partnership with them and America would be at risk, he’ll have to accommodate them somehow. Same was the situation with Russia. Maybe the Ottomans had to be brought in to keep Russia in check? Spain and the Southern Isles could be neutral; the Spanish could not care less, their main rivals were the English and the French, they would only vote as a formality. As for the Southern Isles were represented by queen Paulina, for the king had taken ill. On the surface, Paulina looked pleasant and charismatic, yet Agnarr knew that she would be a formidable and dangerous foe if he didn’t play this right. He began to speak again but was rudely interrupted.   

‘And what would be these insurgent elements? The Northuldra?’, asked the duke of Weselton. The room tensed at the duke’s blatant attempt towards badgering the king of Arendelle. Agnarr had to fight a very strong impulse towards bashing the duke’s head on the wall. After composing himself mentally, he replied with barely concealed intentions ‘Why, yes. They have been neglected for far too long. I must attempt to bring them up with the kingdom. They are too obscure and are getting discontent.’

‘Just the language your father used, didn’t he? And where is he now? Lost like the rest of them. I’m telling you; this country is a lost cause. The Northuldra are ‘discontent’? Don’t make me laugh. They’re out for your and your family’s blood. They have been for years.’, the duke was clearly enjoying himself at Agnarr’s expense.

‘And if I hope to pursue a peaceful solution and keep Europe out of the mess, what is so wrong with that, duke?’, Agnarr nearly spat out the last part.

‘It’s always something personal. What, a problem with your kids now?’

‘Why, your uncouth son of a-‘

‘ENOUGH!’, the presiding queen roared. ‘That’s the second time you have tried to lay discord in the concert on purpose, duke. Once it was over my kidnapped child and now this. I swear, if it happens again, you’re going to meet your maker without warning, in front of everyone!’

‘I can’t believe you’re still going on about your bloody kid. She’s fucking dead! I always get enraged how the kings of Europe are disturbed about such trivial matters, and I’m to be punished because I call out the bullshit for what it is?! Fine. Hang, draw, and quarter me all you want, that does not change the fact that once again, some people are sullying the good name of the concert for their own interests.’, the duke spat venom without a care.

‘I’ve heard enough. Marshals, break the duke’s kneecaps.’, an enraged Sophia gave the cold order to her personal guard. The duke’s bravado melted away instantly, and he shrunk in his stature as the marshals came to deal with him.

‘Sophie, stop!’ King Reginald shouted.

‘Pray tell, what now, Reginald?’ his spouse was beyond annoyed by now.

The king of Corona whispered in his spouse’s ear ‘We’ll get the coward some other time. I need to talk sense into Agnarr somehow. I advise you to break for recess.’ A rare sight for the usually tempestuous king to calm down his calmer, more pragmatic wife.

Queen Sophia sighed heavily and announced a recess.

Once they were alone, Reginald confronted Agnarr ‘What’s gotten into you, Agnarr? You’re supposed to be the sensible one amongst us two.’       

‘I’ll tell you what’s sensible. I should invade the fucking duchy of Weselton, lay it to fucking waste, burn it to the fucking ground, and salt the fucking remains barren forever!’ Agnarr snarled with uncharacteristic murder in his eyes.

‘Oh, calm down, crusader. I hate the duke much more than you do, believe me. Nevertheless, even I must agree with that poltroon over your course of action. It’s drastic and uncalled for. Tell me honestly what’s bothering you. We’ll make it right. Tell me.’

‘You don’t believe me? I told you every reason I have for doing this. My kingdom has only just recovered from the previous war. I can’t risk another. I certainly can’t afford it to become a pan-European conflict. At the end of the day, I just want my heir to inherit a stable state. An agitated group of people is not the hallmark of a stable state. Even if it takes me years, I must resolve this once and for all.’

Reginald spoke empathetically ‘Alright, but it still is a visceral reaction to the situation. I think foreign aid would only help more. Are you sure about it?’

Agnarr thought about telling the truth to his best friend, but ultimately decided otherwise; he couldn’t let the secret get out in any circumstance.

‘Yes I am. I also believe that those so-called insurgents are supplied by foreign powers themselves; they would like nothing more than to make my kingdom their colony. And that fucking Weselton shill... I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s behind the whole damn thing.’

‘That may be true, but without solid evidence, we can’t deal with him effectively. We must be sure.’ Reginald advised him.

‘Alright, but I can’t back down from my position. Yes, my kingdom will suffer in the short run, but I know we’ll be secure and united eventually.’

Ultimately, the concert decided that Arendelle would only keep one point of access open to the outside world; the main port. Only diplomats and special traders would be allowed. Every other traveller, from tourist to student would have to be barred from entering the country. It may cause uprising among the international students in his kingdom, but he’ll have to deal with them on his down. To preserve the security, the red tape for the traders and businessmen became very harsh. All, in service towards protecting my family; Agnarr thought.

A week later

A craven figure along with half a dozen guards floated in a rowboat towards one of the northern shores of Arendelle, beyond the mist. A hooded figure in silhouette waited for them on shore, heavily dressed to protect them self against the bitter February cold. Upon reaching the shore, the hooded bowed in respect and said ‘Welcome, honourable duke of Weselton. I hope your journey was pleasant enough.’

‘As pleasant a trip I could hope in stormy, waning winter, thank you for asking.’, the duke removed his cloak and coat to make his face more visible, and gestured his guards to disembark and stand around. The scrawny man took a moment to stretch himself, and at length, spoke ‘How many instances of forbidden people wandering into your grounds?’

‘Not as many as before, however a group of the Iceni tribe were intercepted in the valley of death during patrol two months ago and dealt with without exception. No survivors that we know of.’

‘Good, the illegals are dwindling, soon they would be no problem. However, as long as Arendelle stands, you’ll never be safe. We’ll have to confront them once and for all.’

‘Let’s continue our discussion on the way to camp, honourable duke.’

The Northuldrian camp was twenty-five kilometres inland from the seashore, but the spirits had grown very erratic in recent years, so the Northuldra had to find new routes to their homes every few weeks. The latest incident was particularly severe; a landslide had destroyed the usual detour they took, so they had to take the tributaries by another boat, a slower but safer way of travel.

‘Forgive me, honourable duke. I know travel by water does not agree with you.’

‘I’ll live. Tell me, how is everything holding up north of the mist?’

‘We’re eking out a living somehow. As you know, the rivers have been gradually changing course towards the south, our arable lands are going barren as a result. Adding to the problem, the rains are becoming scarcer with every passing year bit by bit. I regret to inform you that the poppy plantation is facing a loss, the raw material for the heroin would be short this time.’

‘It seems you’ve lost the plot, haven’t you? How will I get you your weapons if your end of the bargain is low? Weapons, armament, lumber and steam technology for ships don’t come cheap, you know?’ the duke said with the faux humility that masked grave threats underneath, and the hooded figure knew well what those threats were. Nevertheless, a low yield was not the biggest problem.

‘There’s more, honourable duke. Arendelle has tried to sue for peace and is willing to cooperate.’

‘Yes, I heard. We both know it’s nonsense.’

‘I’m not so sure. The terms they have offered seem rather reasonable.’

‘I’m sure they are. They may be too reasonable, I’m afraid. Implying something between the lines. The implication being disastrous for the Northuldra. If you ask me, I would never take any terms Europe offers at face value.’

‘I’m a fair sceptic of the south, just as you are. But since the rise of the mist, they have not engaged in any big skirmishes.’

The duke sighed and said ‘It pains me to say it, but you lack an ocean of imagination. There are uncountable ways to fight a war of attrition, and Arendelle has chosen the most insidious way.’

‘What do you mean, duke?’

‘I’d rather tell this to everyone at once, instead of making it a poor game of translation errors.’, with that, the duke fell silent, knowing full well that the hooded figure’s doubts had been flared up.

After a voyage of two hours, the party reached the camp. A huge crowd had gathered upon the riverbank where the canoe stopped. The hooded figure removed his hood and stood beside the Northuldra leader as her most trusted vassal. The Northuldra leader went by the name of Yelena, a woman moving towards middle age, standing barely above the duke in stature, but those aged eyes had seen many ups and downs. The leader slightly prostrated herself before the duke; the Northuldra way of showing respect towards authority.

‘Welcome, o duke! I hope your voyage was pleasant.’

‘As much as I could hope it to be. I must say, the Northuldra’s native lands grow more beautiful every time I venture up’ the duke said.

‘Your grace flatters us. I believe my trusted vassal has given you the lowdown for everything that has happened in the past three months. We’ll be happy to discuss a compromise for the goods you need.’

‘Thank you, your excellency. However, my worries include the survival of the Northuldra as well.’

‘What is that supposed to mean?’

‘You may have received terms from the king of Arendelle for a peaceful cessation in the past few days, haven’t you?’

‘Yes, they are more reasonable than I expected.’

‘I feared so, for if you paid attention, you’d realise that the terms are too positive. They’re willing to overlook the massacre of the group of Iceni that happened two months ago. Not to mention the fact that they may have stumbled about the truth about our trade operation as well.’

‘Speaking of the trade operation, what we may be short of in terms of goods, we’ll make up in plunder in the North Atlantic. I have sanctioned three fleets for the same purpose later this week.’

‘That is encouraging, but I must warn you, the plundering operation would become very difficult very soon. What with the king of Arendelle sealing the kingdom’s maritime and overland borders.’

‘Excuse me, come again?’

‘Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you knew.’

‘No, I didn’t. Please enlighten us, your grace.’

‘Well, your excellency, the king of Arendelle has decided to isolate the country, and I quote his speech: “This sudden policy of isolation is a measure of precaution. I have it on reliable sources and personal knowledge that there are elements of revolution and insurgency brewing up in my kingdom. I can’t ignore it like the previous bourbon king of France in his time, god rest his soul. I must deal with these rebels quickly and with extreme prejudice. Because if I don’t, then Arendelle falls forever, and if Arendelle falls, all northern Europe shall sink along with it.” Now you tell me, is this the language a man would use while suing for peace?’

Yelena became quiet for a moment, taking in al the information. At length, she asked ‘What are the possible ramifications of this declaration?’

‘They could be numerous, but I’ll tell you the most obvious one. Within a month at the latest, the coasts would be dotted by the Arendellian navy, putting a blockade through which nothing except their own ships could get in or out. You can imagine they would be only too happy to hunt down your pirate ships before you’re able to secure any loot at all. You can’t raid through the land, as the mist is your most powerful jailer. It will surely be a stifling experience; I won’t deny it.’

‘What if we do sue for peace? If we sincerely send an envoy to the south?’

‘Aye, you could try that. In fact, I suggest you try that without fail.’ Interrupted a tall, dark man as he made his way inside Yelena’s tent.’

‘Mathias, just because the mist forces me to tolerate and learn to like your presence doesn’t mean you interrupt me in meetings about the matters of state.’ Yelena bristled with annoyance.

‘Believe me, once the mist lifts up, I’ll ride south, first thing on my to-do list.’

‘Mathias, you look familiar. Tall, dark, muscular, good posture. Does your Ethiopian father still till the grain and tan the leather shoes?’, making harsh, cutting remarks was a talent the duke used well.

‘No. Does the honourable duke take me for his wretched bastard slaves in the Congo?’ Mathias growled.

‘Gentlemen, please. Your grace, please don’t mind Mathias. Yes, he’s a southerner. He was in king Runeard’s personal guard from what I gather. He may look brutish and imposing, but he’s harmless and dare I say, a halfway decent man. He doesn’t usually interrupt one of my meetings, so this instance must be special. Tell us big boy, what should bother us?’ Yelena finished as she turned to Mathias.

‘I’m sorry. I’m not willing to entertain the stories of a deserter.’, the duke said nonchalantly.

‘As if your pip squeakiness has ever been in a battle to judge a trapped prisoner of war?’ Mathias seethed.

‘See, even he agrees, we’re at war.’ Oh, they were all playing right into my hands, the duke thought with glee.

‘Yes, and now peace must be made. Yelena, this is not the time to go on the offensive. Trust me.’ Mathias faced Yelena as he settled down beside her.

‘Maybe, but it is a peace we would be forced into. We want it on our own terms, Mathias. I understand you’re homesick, but we haven’t had a home to go back to for decades. We will assert our terms onto the king, and he will have to accept it. If he doesn’t, it’s war.’

‘Lofty words, your excellency. Alas, there’s no substance or weight to back your words. You’ll be blockaded soon, and travel by land is impossible anyhow. I suggest you make a permanent settlement here and be done with it.’, the duke laid the bait.

‘And perpetually disturb the peace of the spirits by claiming their sacred forest? Never.’, and Yelena took it.

‘Well, I can’t negotiate such a big difference in your quantity of goods. You’ll have to offer me something if I must continue supporting your struggle. What about lumber from the forest?’

‘You must be reading a fucking comedy. When we refuse to make a permanent settlement in the forest, YOU PROCEED TO SUGGEST SOMETHING FAR WORSE?!’, Mathias had half a mind to strangle the duke right there, when he was stopped by Yelena.

‘Sit down, Mathias! We’re in desperate times. We’ll have to do what we must in order to survive.’

‘Making a bad situation worse is survival?! Can you imagine or fathom withstanding the rage of the spirits if we cut down the forest?! How can you even consider this, Yelena?’

‘If I may ease your concerns, I’ll vouch for the fact that a sacred relic commands a lot of value in the market. Especially amongst those who are powerful, proud, wealthy and don’t ask too many questions. Here’s what I’ll do. I’ll introduce a tiny amount in the market. People would recognize it as sacred or magical with plenty of history behind it. Once I do that, I can manipulate the price for it and bring you all the money, all the weapons, all the ships you need.’, the duke reassured the Northuldra leader.

Yelena spoke at length ‘Alright, I agree to the venture. Let’s begin with ten logs.’

Mathias hung his head in defeat and nursed his forehead, which had begun to throb. This is not going to end well.

Yelena tried to comfort him after the duke left ‘Listen, for every tree we cut down, we’ll plant ten, I promise.’

‘Even if you do that, it won’t be the sacred forest of the fifth spirit anymore.’ Mathias said ruefully.

As the duke made his way to the ship waiting off the coast on his rowboat, one of his taciturn guards asked him ‘Your grace, why do we need these bunch of sheep worshippers?’

The duke grinned darkly ‘When a rival nation is at war with itself, best let it consume itself.’

Around the same time, somewhere in northern Greece

‘Rider, move your ass and get over here!’ A portly man called out as he wiped a greasy hand on his apron.

‘Coming, Elios!’ Flynn came running in. He was now a man of seventeen; having seen a fair bit of the world by now and had been working with Elios for a few months. Elios had hidden Flynn to save him from ‘The Hawk’, a notorious smuggler who had trapped him in his ring. In return, Flynn agreed to work for him in his front business.

‘Why must I go through this fucking chore every time? To have to call you up like a fucking parade float to just do your blessed job?’

‘I’m sorry for being two minutes late. I already did the prep for tonight; the bar has been cleaned and stocked. I just took a nap, calm your tits.’

‘I’ve heard that many times, give me something new Flynn’ Elios rolled his eyes.

‘What do you think I’ve been doing? Making merry around the city square? Come on, I know better than that.’

‘Don’t bother lying to me. I swear, one of those women is gonna make you the sacrificial goat someday.’

‘Alright, I heard your speech. Got it, can we move on?’

Elios wiped some sweat off his forehead and asked, ‘You know who’s coming tonight?’

‘Yeah I do, friends loyal to the Greek cause.’ Flynn answered without faltering

‘Not just any friend, mind you. The Gent is coming along with the Sicilians.’

Flynn’s ears perked up at that piece of news. The Gent was a legend in Northern Greece, almost singlehandedly forming the on-land resistance against the Ottomans in the Greek war of independence. He had been involved in the resistance for nearly seven years now and was lobbying for foreign support.

‘Wow, that’s a hero if I ever saw one.’

‘I told you I’ll introduce you to him soon. Today’s the day.’

‘Now, why would he visit an affluent restaurant filled with Turks day in and out, I’m sure I don’t know.’ Flynn stated incuriously.

‘Hey Flynn, let his people worry about it. I’m sure his people would be clever enough to figure it out.’ Elios was a practical man who knew the streets well, however, forethought was not his strongest suit.

‘No, Elios. Hear me out. If the Gent is ambushed here, we’re done for. Everything will be up for grabs and I know neither of us would like the prick of the cold sabre chopping our necks. And if we know The Gent is coming, the officials certainly know. And if the Sicilians find out, you’ll end up wearing concrete shoes, old boy. You may know the gutters and the roads, but I know loyalty.’

‘What do you suppose we do now? We can’t really serve them in public view.’

‘That is true. Tell you what, let’s clear the cellar for their dinner. I’m sure they don’t want any outsider to hear what they are discussing amongst themselves. Also, I think you should serve them personally, Elios.’

‘No can do. I’m the front. If I don’t stay there, they’ll investigate. You’ll have to serve them yourself. I’m sorry Flynn. The Gent trusts me, if he sees that I consider you worthy, he’ll be comfortable.’

But I don’t know the first thing about him and the others. What if I offend them without meaning to?’

‘Don’t be stupid, Flynn. We both know you know better than that. If the service is good, they’ll fill your pockets with enough dosh to set you up for years. If I truly know you, you wouldn’t miss this opportunity for the world.’

‘Alright, I’ll do it. Say Elios, what if I warm them personally first about the last-minute change of scenery?’

‘No. I’ll have to warn them myself. Set the cellar up. I did contact them two days ago; I’ll do it again.’

‘Just make sure you’re not followed.’

‘Hey Rider, who knows the street better?’

‘You do, clearly.’

‘Yup. I’ll be back soon.’

A few hours later, a party of people showed up. There was the Gent, a tall slender man, worn down by the hiding and fighting. His face was warm enough, save for the green eyes that could bore holes through the Earth, and a crooked mouth that had a scare across the top lip. Still, he felt like a man who could fight forever. As for the Sicilians, they were something else entirely.

It was a band of seven people. The man most fancily dressed, along with the ruby ring on his little finger and the gold watch and chain, was obviously the leader. The six were presumably his bodyguards, each one burlier and more imposing that the last, looking like killers happy to kill a priest in the middle of a sermon. Ruthless and royal. Dressed to the nines up to their plug caps.

Flynn suddenly felt dwarfed and puny.

‘Gentlemen, this is Flynn, he’s been working with me for a few months, he’ll be serving you tonight.’ Elios gave a short introduction and left. Flynn gave a short bow, not sure how to address these powerful men.

‘What’s your name, green boy?’ The Gent asked.

‘Flynn.’

‘How old are you?’

‘Going to be seventeen next month.’

You’re not from around these parts, are you? Your accent tells me....Austria Hungary?’

‘No sir, Corona. The Rhinelands, to be exact.’ 

‘Uh huh. How’d you end up in Greece?’

‘War orphan from the Napoleonic wars, pushed around all of Europe, ended up here.’ By now, Flynn knew the story by heart.   

‘My condolences. Ok Flynn, you’re going to undergo something unpleasant. Forgive me, just the nature of these times. I need to be sure of your loyalty.’

Before Flynn could reply, one of the goons was upon him, almost choking him with his weight, pressing down on his spine. Even if Flynn had any wind left him, he couldn’t yell.

‘Answer me, why was the room changed at such short notice?’

‘When the Gent asks, you better fucking answer, figlio di sfagato!’

‘Get off him, let him speak.’ The goon got off at once.

Flynn coughed and gasped for air. When he could breathe normally, he said weakly , ‘Mr. Gent, it was Mr. Elios who suggested it.’ Flynn barely finished his sentence before receiving a punch in the gut, knocking the air out of him.

‘That’s a lie. Elios is not that big a thinker. You seem to be smarter than you let on. Why’d you try to protect us from the Turks?’

‘I didn’t want them to kill you here. That would be underhanded and filthy. I’ve heard....heard that you believe in engaging them head on, I didn’t want them to ambush you. You’re a hero around here, would be a shame if I couldn’t do my bit for your cause.’ Flynn was hit yet again by the goon, this time in his nose. Blood had begin ebbing from his mouth and nose.

‘You’ve said enough. I can guess the rest of the story. Either betray the Turks and face the sabre or betray us and face getting shot in the face. Why choose us over them?’

‘I gambled here.....I’d rather be loyal to someone fighting the slavers for freedom than the slaver themselves.’ Flynn braced himself for another hit, but the hit never came.

Instead he could hear a chuckle from the Sicilian leader, who had gestured his goon to stand down. He approached Flynn and held him by the cheek, saying in thick accent, ’Felino. That’s your name from now on. Felino the crooked nose. Drinks on the house, all night. Keep the drinks up, you’ll be richer than the sultan come morning. Good boy.’

The leader, or don as they were calling him now, lightly tapped his cheek and went back to his place, settling down with the Gent and the other goons. Flynn left the room and almost crumpled on the floor. I could’ve died there, he thought for a second. Nevertheless, he composed himself and put on his charm; Felino the crooked nose had a job to do.

Ha, the duke of Weselton’s such a bastard, always stirring up shit wherever he goes lol. I love the potential his character has.

Our Man Flynn is serving the big boys now! What could happen?

Thanks again to those who continue reading this silly story :P

As always, constructive feedback is always welcome!

[tumbler-tidbits]

Today Is the last Friday of this month so the time has come to post February’s Fic Recs! Please Keep in mind that these have been culminated over a period of a few months (since I’m so far behind) so some links may no longer work thanks to dumblrs porn bots! I have no control of that so if a fic is no longer available PLEASE don’t blame me! These are mostly smut but there is a mix of some fluff and a smidge of angst. All warnings and summaries from the writer are provided!

1)Can’t Keep My Hands to Myself by @bamby0304

Link:HERE

Summary: Misha can’t help himself. It doesn’t matter that you could get caught at any moment, he just has to have you.

Pairing: Misha x Reader

Warnings: Explicit language. Smut. Dirty talk. Public sex. Fingering. Unprotected sex. Hair pulling

My Review: JFC y’all this one is a panty ruiner! I’ve just recently started reading Misha/Cas smut and boy did this one pull me in! Dom/sub, pinned against the wall, fear of getting caught.... hbdhgshsndmnfv

2)Magical by @supernatural-teamfreewillpage-d

Link:HERE

Summary: Dean’s Pov On A/His Girl Squirting

Pairing: Dean x Female

Warnings: 18+, Squirting, Language, Sexual Thoughts.

My Review: This Awesome smut is from Deans point of view and it makes for a magical scene!

3)The Bet by @maddiepants

Link:HERE

Summary: Y/N can totally go a week without sex. Can't she?

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: little bit a plot, lotta bit a porn, little bit of Dom Dean, that’s it i think

My Review: Good God my girl can write the smut! This is so fucking hot, I felt needy!! Jesus I need me some Dean!

4)The Mirror by @wheresthekillswitch

Link:HERE

Summary: The problem isn’t your reflection, it’s the mirror you’re using

Pairing: None

Warnings: self-doubt

My Review: This sweet little drabble speaks volumes for those of us who have insecurities (read: all of us!). Short, sweet, and to the point! Hold your head high.

5)Uncharted Territory by @fatestemptress

Link:HERE

Summary: Dean thought he had done it all.  He was wrong. 

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Smutastic.  Rimming.  Anal play.  Oral (Male Receiving) 18 PLUS ONLY!!

My Review: HOLY FUCKING SHIT. This is not something I ever considered erotic and Jesus christ on a cracker if this didn’t change my mind. THIS WAS FUCKING HOT AS FUCK! The smart ass Dean in the beginning, then the way you described his pleasure... fuck woman you paint a gorgeous fucking picture! Now I’m trying to put out the fire you just caused! Bitches READ IT!!

6)Tell Him How You Feel by @supernatural-jackles

Link:HERE

Summary: Another season of Supernatural has wrapped. You are headed to the wrap party with your two best friends. One being your ex, and the other being yours and your ex’s best friend; the guy you have fallen for over the course of a few months. 

Pairing: Jensen x Reader, past Jared x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Feels,  Fluff,  Sweet Smut, Minor Talk of Insecurities.

My Review: This friends to lovers story was incredible! The backstory and how the reader was written in to the lives of Jared and Jensen was perfect! Romantic, sensual, and just so warm and fuzzy! Give it a read, it fulfills your fantasy 😉

7)Being Kept by TheShygirl on AO3

Link:HERE

Summary: Reader is at an out-of-town hotel for a work meeting when a big storm hits. A power outage from the storm leaves her trapped in an elevator with two extremely attractive men who decide to make the most out of a bad situation. From there, her life gets turned upside down as she tries to balance her newfound relationship with work and an intense interest from another man.

Pairing: Please see link

Warnings: Please see link

My Review: This series was recommended to me by several friends! And I’ll be honest, based in the tags and warnings, I would have never read it. But I asked my friends about my concerns and they reassured me. So I trusted them and dove into the story, and HOLY FUCK am I glad that I did! Two things you should know about me, 1) I don’t typically read RPF and 2) I have never read M/M, F/F. And before you jump to conclusions NO I’m not homophobic, I’m straight and read reader insert so M/F is what I gravitate to. WELL this fic changed both of those things with multiple partners/pairings! It was sexy, erotic, romantic, angsty, and fluffy! It left me happy, ecstatic, sad, furious, upset, betrayed, sickened...literally any emotion you can have was portrayed in this fic and I felt every single one! Folks this story is so good that it felt REAL, like BTS this scenario is actually happening in real life. It’s 73 chapters, but trust me it’s worth it and in the end you will be begging for more!!

8)Thunder Rolls by @amanda-teaches

Link:HERE

Summary: When your fear of thunderstorms is triggered, Dean decides to distract you the best way he can- with some good, old-fashioned, mind-blowing sex.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: SMUT (unprotected penetrative sex), swearing; 18+ only

My Review: This was intensely passionate! The sex is hot but the love behind it really makes it great! The authors use of super descriptive descriptions of your pleasure will have you clenching your thighs!

9)Lingering Scents by @kittenofdoomage

Link:HERE

Summary: Dean’s always tried to resist the pull. How long until he can’t anymore?

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader

Warnings: jealousy, angst, scenting, A/B/O, rough sex, implied breeding, marking, mentions of sort-of cheating.

My Review: whew! If your in to A/B/O fics this one is hot! Dean learns that he can’t fight fate and your more than willing to go along!

10)Cupid Can Shove his arrow right up his... by @bamby0304

Link:HERE

Summary: Valentine’s day sucks when you’ve got no one to send you flowers or serenade you with sweet song. You’re in a mood, stomping around the overcrowded bunker, not caring if you kill the buzz of the couples around you. Luckily for them, however, Sam is quick to distract you.

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Warnings: Explicit language. Little bit of Valentine’s day hate. Smut. Dirty talk. Thigh riding. Fingering. Praise kink. Hair pulling. Panty kink. Biting. Unprotected sex.

My Review: Holy Fucking shit I LOVED THIS! The attitude, the sass, the fucking innuendos... THE FUCKING! Jesus Christ on a crumbled cracker, This one killed. Go beg Amber for MORE of this! And make sure you say PLEASE! We need to see ALL those scenarios played out... Read this one in privacy ladies and have a helper handy 😏😉

11)Only One Woman I Trust by @georgialouisea

Link:HERE

Summary: None

Pairing: Dean x Reader, Sophie, Marg.

Warnings: Fluff, Swearing

My Review:This is just absolutely precious! You think you know what’s going on but there’s a surprise! This one will rot your teeth ❤️

12)Edge of Glory by @sculptorofbeginnings

Link:HERE

Summary: A supply run with Dean and Castiel takes an interesting turn.

Pairing: Dean x Reader, Castiel

Warnings: This is just Smut. Gratuitous, Endverse, smut. Implied established relationship and previously agreed upon situations. 

My Review: Well damn. Shaila gets you revved up right off the bat with an amazing gif! Then sweet fucking sin it gets hotter from there! Ladies save this one for some alone time.... it’s definitely a panty ruiner.

13)Inked Up by @evansrogerskitten

Link:HERE

Summary: Dean most definitely, not at all, really doesn’t, have a crush.

Pairing: Dean x tattooed!Reader

Warnings: Fluff. Cursing a lot cuz it’s Dean. 18+ because you must be an adult to be on my blog

My Review: Ever want to know what goes on inside Dean’s head when he sees a hot girl? This fic is super hilarious and totally fluffy! I love Dean’s internal struggle to keep himself in check 😂 this one is fun!

14)Match Made on Crushbook by @carryonmywaywardwriters-deactiv

Link:HERE

Summary: The douchebags of online dating...

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Online Dating struggles (made from actual chats I’ve gotten...cringe with me). Mutual masturbation. Some dirty talk. A bit of praise!kink. I believe that is all during this part.

My Review: As a girl with a serious praise!kink this one got me all hot a bothered! And as a single female trying to find a relationship... this fic is totally relatable!

15)Good Morning Beautiful by @ladywinchester1967

Link:HERE

Summary: Good Morning Indeed.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Oral sex (female receiving), fluff, smut, Dean being a sweetheart. All porn, zero plot. 

My Review: Holy fuck this is so.... yes, all the yes! I want this, I NEED this!! God it’s just so fluffy and passionate. LOVE IT

16)Reunited by @saxxxology

Link:HERE

Summary: Sam’s locked in a government prison during the birth of his first child. Reuniting him with his family is the best thing that could have ever happened to him

Pairing: Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of killing, Alpha/Omega parenting instincts, non-graphic labor, fluff, lots of happy tears

My Review: OMG this is somewhat heart shattering, but Oh so fluffy! You start off wanting to cry but don’t worry, those will turn to happy tears :)

17)Dangerous Dance by @bamby0304

Link:HERE

Summary: When you first saw him, you knew he wasn’t like any other man that walked through the doors. There was a gleam in his eyes that screamed mischief. A gleam you would come to crave just as much as he craved you, if not more. When you first saw him, you had no idea what you were in for.

Pairing: Soulless!Sam x exotic-dancer!Reader

Warnings: Explicit language. Angst. Fluff. Pole dancing. Sexy dancing. Smut. Dom!soulless!Sam. Fingering. Masturbation. Voyeurism. Dry humping. Dirty talk. Unprotected sex. Bondage. Breath play. Squirting. Other smut related warnings that I just can’t think of right now.

My Review: Folks grab a fire extinguisher because this series is HOT! 14 chapters of deliciously smutty soulless Sam! What more could you ask for? Amber hits a lot of kinks in this series so you are likely to find something you like or discover a kink you didn’t know you had!!

18)Discipline by @squirrel-moose-winchester

Link:HERE

Summary: After flirting with a suspect to gain information against Sam’s orders, she must suffer the consequences.

Pairing: Dom!Sam x Reader

Warnings: Smut (but not really), Spanking (of a slightly different kind), Implied sex, Rough!Sam

My Review: To steal a line from one of our favorite memes “Mark me down as scared and horny!” Whew! This was unexpectedly hot and a total surprise! Note to self, do not make Sam angry.... or ya know DO!

19)Worthless by @maddiepants

Link:HERE

Summary: It's hard to fight the demons, when they're inside your head.

Characters: Reader, Dean, and Sam

Warnings: thoughts of suicide, talk of possible self harm, self hatred, Dean being a helpful, loving bean, Angst.

My Review: This one is angsty but wow it’s also very poetic! I know many of us struggle with this very scenario and Erica has written it beautifully.

20)Wrecked by @thoughtslikeaminefield

Link:HERE

Summary: After the show, alone in a dark corridor, he shows you exactly what that song means.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Kissing, Vaginal Fingering, Clothed Sex, Wall Sex, Slight Chain Metal Kink, lip biting, Jensen Ackles in that fucking CBGB t-shirt and hat and the wallet chain WTF dude, Let’s pretend he’s single, Like a Wrecking Ball, you know why, Smut, Shameless Smut, Consent is Sexy, NSFW

My Review: JFC if this isn’t every Jensen girls fantasy! This one just ruined me! Wall sex, hand over your mouth, soft nips and kisses *shudders* give it a read!

Taglist:  @idreamofplaid  @dean-winchesters-bacon  @maddiepants  @pisces-cutie​ @covered-byroses @currentlyfangirling99  @spnmightkillme @spnfamily-alwayskeepfighting  @team-free-will-you-idjits-67 @xxhalfbloodprincessxx @supernaturalsammy01  @sammyimpala-67 @lunarboycas​  @ladywinchester1967 @sweetiepie-dean  @fangirl-forevers-world @thoughtslikeaminefield @supernatural-teamfreewillpage​ @ruthiesconnells​ @bobasheebaby​ @evansrogerskitten  @missjenniferb​ @sculptorofbeginnings​ @kbl1313​ @spnskinnyballs @treat-winchesterswith-kindness @justcallmeasmodeus @ain-t-bovvered @purpleskiesandcherrypies @curly-haired-disaster @getnaildbyme @thoughtslikeaminefield @gripmetight-raisemefromperdition

[kookadoodle]

Best Served Ice Cold (Pt. 1)

PLOT: Getting snowed in is the least of Y/N’s problems, when she finds out that she shares the cabin with Hoseok.

PAIRING: Hoseok x reader (ft. Yoongi and Namjoon) GENRE: fluff, comedy, E2L, Birthday!AU WARNINGS: swearing, mansplaining WORDCOUNT: 4.6k A/N: decided to split this up in two parts, so here’s the first x

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You have been looking forward to this for months now. Ever since you and Namjoon decided to book a weekend at his parent’s resort, you have not been able to think of anything else. Everyone you know has been on a ski trip before except you, so you are excited to scratch it off your bucket list. Sharing the experience with your best friend, Kim Namjoon, is perfect for you, since Namjoon has tried it before and knows stuff, yet he could never think to judge or make fun of you when you fail. Which you undoubtedly will. You tried ice skating once, and you fell so forcefully on your ass that you got a bruise for a week’s worth. Balance is not really your thing, and ice has never been a friend of yours. However, things can change. People can change. So, you will not let it hold you back. Besides, if things go south, your best friend will be there to help you out. There is nothing to be nervous about.

Heading down the street after the rain has stopped pouring, you go through your mental list of the things you will need for the trip coming up. You are not exactly sure, but you can guess what those are. You will be borrowing a lot from Namjoon’s parents since they rent out the cabins regularly, and therefore, they stock the place with almost everything needed. Yet you want to buy a pair of new mittens for yourself. The ones you own have been worn through at the fingertips, meaning they will not work for you. You could borrow a pair at the cabin, but it feels nice to buy something for the trip. It makes it seem real somehow. As you are distracted by your thoughts, you are left unguarded and do not notice the sound of a motorbike approaching from behind. Suddenly, its young male rider drives past you and through a big puddle right at the curb, where you are walking. The wheels slide through the water and make it splash out everywhere including your whole frame. It drenches you, and the coldness of its touch knocks the air right out of your lungs as your body contracts. For a second, you are speechless, but the fact that the idiot does not even apologize has curses spilling from your lips. The rider merely glances back, proving that he is aware, but drives off anyways. What you would give right now to knock his stupid sunglasses off his face. Who even wears sunglasses in February? you think to yourself, scolding him in your head. You did not get a clear view of his face, but you did see his black hair matching the tight-fitted leather jacket on his back. A complete stereotypical bad boy type and the thought of him makes your wet and cold skin crawl with annoyance. You hope that there will not be dudes like him at the resort. You would hate to have them ruin your trip for you as he just ruined your mood. Asshole.

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

“When are you getting here?” Namjoon asks you through the phone as you are finishing packing up your stuff for the trip. The day is finally here, and both you and Namjoon are in a good mood because of it, smiling like idiots at each other’s remarks. Not idiots in love, god no, but idiots entertained and excited. “I’ll be there in 30 minutes, don’t worry,” you say to your friend with a chuckle, knowing he might be panicking a little. You are not known as the most punctual person, but you would not want to miss this. It is not every day that you get to escape your normally decent life for something much more luxurious like a trip to a ski resort in Aspen. Namjoon has done it a bunch of times already, yet he really likes going so he cannot deny the butterflies in his stomach either. However, he cannot ignore the worry lingering in the back of his mind. He knows something that you do not, and he fears your reaction to it when you find out. He really should have asked you before he said yes to the guys, but they had gone out for drinks last weekend, and he had been caught in a weak moment. Yet despite it being his legit reasoning for his dumb mistake, he knows that you will not be so understanding about it. You will most likely slap him at the back of his head, scolding him for allowing his stupid friends to come. But Namjoon hopes that you will find it less appalling once you get to know them. You have only heard about them, so maybe a meeting between you guys will put the issues to rest. At least that is what he is hoping for. “Okay, I’ll see you there,” Namjoon says, and you say your goodbyes before ending the call. You zip up the bag and bring it with you to your car, heading towards the airport in a state of ignorant bliss.

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

You see him standing in the open area with his head bowed down, looking at his phone. “Namjoon-ah!” you shout, making him and a couple of other strange heads turn in your direction. He meets your big fat smile with a big fat smile of his own as you approach him, pulling him into a hug. “I was just about to text you to ask where you were,” he explains as he locks his phone and slides it back into his pocket. “Aish, you worry too much,” you say with a grin that reaches your eyes. Getting a good look at him, you notice that his dimples barely show, proving he has something else on his mind. You look to his feet, noticing the several bags lying on the floor beneath you, and you recognize only one of them. “jeez man, how much did you pack?” you ask jokingly at the sight. Namjoon chuckles nervously, making you suspicious of him. “Yeah, well-,” he says as he is about to break the news to you, yet he is interrupted by someone else approaching. “I’m not saying that I wouldn’t try out the big slope, but I don’t need to prove myself to you,” the shorter one says without expression. He wears a black face mask, covering his chin and just the line of his bottom lip as he speaks. The black ballcap he wears covers most of his eyes, and its silver piercings distract you for a second or two as light flickers across them. Namjoon’s eyes widen a bit, locked on your face and awaiting your reaction. You lightly frown in confusion at first, but it deepens as the slightly taller one of the strangers come into view, and recent memory of an idiot on a bike comes into your mind. Of all people, why are you seeing this guy again? Wait. Why are they walking up to us? you think to yourself, and your eyes dart to meet with Namjoon’s, whose face displays pure cowardness. “Y/N, right?” the idiot biker asks ignorantly as he sees you. The realization of the situation hits you, and you send Namjoon a firm glare. “What’s this?” you ask Namjoon, not giving a fuck that his friends are staring at you in confusion. The smaller one lifts his cap to get a better look at your disapproving face and finds it mildly amusing. The idiot biker frowns a bit, though. “These guys are joining us,” your cowardly friend says, straining a smile that knows it did wrong. “Yeah, we hope you won’t mind,” the biker says in an attempt to save his friend from your fury. “I do mind,” you state coldly as your glare turns to him and his familiar face. This idiot was the one, who drenched you in cold dirty water on the street the other day and drove off. The memory makes you cross your arms, giving him attitude unapologetically. The smaller one fights back a laugh that threatens to worsen the current state between you. “Oh,” the biker exhales with surprise, tilting his head as he has no quick response for that. Namjoon scratches his head in frustration. “Okay, look Y/N. I’m sorry, I should have told you, but let’s not let it get in the way of a great trip,” your friend states, hoping to ease the tension a bit. You look back at him, reading the regret in his expression. You know that he feels terrible since he knows how much you had looked forward to this, especially since it would be a stay without fear of embarrassment on the slopes. Having his friends there too, you know that you will not only have to share Namjoon’s attention with them but also make a total fool of yourself when you fall flat on your ass in front of them. It really is not what you had looked forward to at all, but you guess that he is right. You should not let it ruin the trip and all it has to offer. You sigh deeply. “I’ll let it go, if he apologizes to me,” you state firmly, looking at the idiot biker, whose stupid face drops in surprise at your demand. He points at himself to confirm what you just said. “Hoseok?” Namjoon asks to confirm as well since he is unaware of the occurrence between the two of you. Well, you told him about what happened, but you did not know that he would actually know the guy. Namjoon had not put two and two together when he heard the story from you. “What should I apologize for?” Hoseok asks with a scoff of disbelief. He really does not remember, and it only pisses you off more. “You drove past me on your dumb bike, spraying water all over me on the sidewalk the other day!” you explain with irritation. Namjoon realizes too. You might be aware that you are being a bit of a bitch right now, but you cannot back down. And honestly, you should not let this type of guy win any argument ever. Rich fuck boys like Hoseok think they own the world, but pigs will fly before you will let them claim the earth as their personal playground. You stand your ground, even if the foundation is a bit shaky. “I did what?” Hoseok chuckles clearly without a clue. It does not exactly please you. You raise your brows, not wanting to explain yourself. He knows what he did, you are sure. “Just apologize,” you hear the slightly smaller one whisper to his friend as he no longer finds it entertaining enough. It is Yoongi’s first ski trip too, and he is honestly looking forward to it as well, even if he will not admit to it willingly. Hoseok runs a hand through his hair as he sighs, seeming to disagree with your claim. But he does not mind swallowing his pride for the cause of the trip. “Sure. Look, Y/N, I’m sorry that I did… that… but I honestly didn’t see you there,” Hoseok explains, apologizing to you a bit forced. Your frown still stays. You study his face, but it only shows ignorance, and you do not know what to do with that. Damn, he hides it good. “See? He’s sorry, so can we go now?” Namjoon adds, hoping to keep the tension from growing. “Whatever,” you finally say, turning on your heels and heading towards the gate with the three guys grabbing their stuff and rushing to catch up with you. What a great start.

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

Having refused to sit next to the idiot biker boy and also the current idiot friend, you end up with Yoongi as your seatmate on the plane, which is perfect, it turns out. Both of you are not in a chatty mood, and he just wants to sleep the flight away. You hog the window seat quickly, but he merely ignores it, not really caring which seat is his. He just wants to sleep as soon as possible, apparently having been up most of the night working on a few tracks of his. You, however, need a moment to yourself, looking out onto the clouds and the light that is piercing through their soft nature. It calms your angered self. You think about what Namjoon said, and you agree. You should not let it ruin your trip, and you would hate it if this dude, Hoseok, gets to crash your happy spirit on another good day. What a fucking waste it would be. “Are you going to hog the armrest too?” the boy at your side says with his tired eyes barely opened. You notice that your elbow is resting on the armrest between the two of you, and knowing you kind of stole the window seat, you retract your arm and let him have it. He nods thankfully before closing his eyes. The plane has not even taken off yet, and the boy is already snoozing away. He has probably done this a handful of more times than you, considering the difference between your approaches. Despite him, you feel the nervousness rushing in your veins. You have only been on a plane for two trips before, so your body has not gotten used to the feeling. Neither has your mind, honestly. “Hey, you want gum?” Namjoon asks from the seats behind you, reaching his pack of gum through the space between the seats to give it to you. You turn and look at him, skimming your eyes at him with hesitance. “Thanks,” you say without emotion as you take the pack from him. You pull out a piece of gum and place it on your tongue, chewing it up. Apparently, it is a good method, when you want to stop your ears from popping. You truly hate that feeling, and you would not even wish it on your worst enemy, so credits to Namjoon for saving your ass. Bitch owes you. “Hey, Y/N?” a careful voice speaks from behind your seat at the side by the window. Here we fucking go, you think to yourself at the sound of the idiot biker. “Can I have a piece too?” Hoseok asks since Namjoon did not offer him one. You do not know if it is as punishment after finding out that he was the one who sprayed you on the street or if Namjoon just wanted to apologize to you in some way and barely thought about offering it to his friend. Either way, you like how the ball is in your court, and you will not be wasting it. “hmm,” you say, faking interest. “Nope,” you then add firmly, popping the P for dramatic effort. You hear the boy sigh and feel his head bump against the back of your seat in defeat. About not wanting to wish it on your worst enemy? Yeah, you take that back. Nice trip, my friend, you think to yourself with a smug smile.

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

You finally arrive at the resort, and your excitement has doubled in flips. The place is beautiful with a layer of snow decorating the whole scene, and you drive through the forest with white tipped trees. The car stops by the main house of European design with a cozy and rustic vibe. Your scarf warms your neck, yet the chilly air brushes across your cheeks and nose, dusting them in a frosty red. Though you might hate the cold at the end of the weekend, you love it now. It is so different from your daily humid climate that it has you breathing it in awe. “Not bad, huh?” Namjoon asks as he steps up by your side when you both have exited the car. In your moment of adoration and exhilaration, you forget your previous mood and smile at him. “It’s cool,” you say back, and Namjoon sees the way your eyes gleam. He is a big fan of that. It feels good to know that he can spoil you like this. You deserve something good in your life. At the opposite side, Hoseok appears with just as wide a smile as yours. “It’s good to be back,” he states with a sigh of relief, almost. It immediately has your smile faltering. “Ugh,” you exhale with disgust at his words, and Hoseok’s expression must be priceless since it has Namjoon fighting back a laugh. You make your way inside with your luggage, getting your keys at the reception before being sent up the mountain to your cabin. A big wooden cabin welcomes you, and Namjoon smiles at the sight of the familiar place. It is always the same cabin he gets, and you have heard a lot about it, but seeing it with your own eyes is an experience in itself. It is everything he has told you it was. Beautiful, grand and homey, and the insides match the outsides with nice furniture and a fireplace that surely will be used.

It does not take long before you are heading to rent equipment for the slopes. You are all restless to get started with what you came here for, and it has you rushing to the booths. Namjoon and Hoe-sucks take the lead and get your needed stuff. “Three snowboards and a pair of skis,” Namjoon says to the guy behind the counter, and it has your brows furrowing. “Skis for who?” you ask him, knowing all three of the guys have talked about snowboarding for basically the whole trip up here. “Uh, for you,” he says questioningly, and the look on your face scares him a bit. “No, make that four snowboards, no skis,” you correct, leaning in past Namjoon, and it makes him step back from the counter to give you room. He knows how stubborn you can be so he will not be picking this fight with you. Hoseok, however, does not know you well enough to make that decision. “Are you sure? Snowboarding isn’t easy for beginners,” he says with a bright smile, and you honestly want to whack him across the head as you do Namjoon at times, when he is being a dick. “Yes, I’m sure,” you say firmly with a strained expression, receiving a snowboard from the guy at the booth. Of course, he picked a pink one for you, and it pisses you off, but one fight at a time, you decide. Hoseok shakes his head, not knowing why you are being so rude towards him when he is only trying to be friendly with you. He already apologized, so he does not know what else to do about your mood. Maybe if he offered his help could he get on your good side, but little does he know - you do not think of yourself as a maiden in distress. Even if you might be when you click your shoes to the snowboard and find your ass immediately buried deep in the snow on the first slope. As previously stated, balance is not really your thing. “Need a hand?” Hoseok asks, reaching one out for you as he sees you sitting on your butt. You glare at him and refuse to take his offer. It is not easy to get back on your feet, but you risk the embarrassment and finally get your ass out of the snow. “See you guys at the bottom!” Namjoon shouts as he slides past the two of you in a quick motion, taming the snowboard flawlessly. The act shocks you and causes you to fall right back down as you once again lose your balance. Hoseok sees and stops himself from offering you his hand this time. “See you at the bottom,” he then says before lowering his mask and fitting it over his eyes. He rides off, leaving you to groan by yourself and your stubbornness. Huffing and puffing, you finally get back up and start making your way down the slope. It is slow but surprisingly steady. You quite get the hang of it, and it is a rush unlike anything when you first get to speed a little. It tickles in your tummy, and you think that it is the closest you will ever get to fly on your own. It is fun right up until you lose control and suddenly fall flat on your face, hitting the snow with force. Luckily, you close your mouth before faceplanting, but you land with snow up to your ears, and icy coldness across your skin. You try to get up, but the snowboard has locked your feet in place and gives very little room for movement. You sigh into the snow, accepting your slow oncoming death. “How are we doing, Y/N?” you then hear the devil incarnate speak, and you almost wish for the grim reaper to take you right then and there. “Fuck off!” you groan, yet the snow muffles your vocal. How is he even back here already? you think to yourself. Apparently, you have gone a lot slower than you thought. “Are you ready to head longer up the mountain?” Hoseok asks, and if only you could whack him now. You gather your strength and push yourself up on your arms, doing not much else than a simple yoga pose, just to get to look him in his stupid eyes. “Why do you ask, Hoe-sucks?” you spit sarcastically, and it causes him to burst a short laugh at the sight of your reddened face and crooked mask, ignoring your name-calling completely. “No reason,” he quickly recovers, not daring to poke the bear at this moment. It would not be fair to when you are clearly already scratching bottom. Namjoon slides to the two of you, stopping beside Hoseok, when he sees you doing a cobra pose in the snow. “Y/N, are you good?” he asks as he lifts his mask to his forehead, exposing his eyes to you. “If you gave me a hand, maybe?” you state, looking at the boy, who has an IQ of 148 but still cannot read a situation like this. Hoseok moves ahead as the closest one to you, but you glare at him. “Not you!” you exclaim and almost shock the boy. Yoongi suddenly slides past you three in a swift motion and has gotten the hang of balancing on the board, but apparently not stopping one. “See you guys on th--” is all you hear before he is too far down for his voice to carry. “You go make sure Yoongi-hyung is okay, and I’ll take care of this one,” Namjoon then says to Hoseok and gestures to you as one of the issues at hand. “We’ll meet on the mountain,” he adds. Hoseok nods acceptingly and slides the mask back down his face before taking off and chasing after his inexperienced friend. “Here,” Namjoon says as he reaches out his hand for you. You grab onto it, and he manages to lift you back up on your feet. “We’re taking the lift further up to get a longer stretch. Are you ready for that or do you need more practice time?” your friend asks as kindly as he can put it. You might not nearly be practiced enough, but you will not stay on the kids’ slope while the boys take beginner-Yoongi up the mountain. “Sure,” you lie but sell it enough for Namjoon to not ask questions. The two of you make your way to the lift and get a seat that will carry you up and across the snow. There is not much room, but the two of you have been close before, so none of you are bothered. It is also comforting to know that if you fall off of this metal death escalator, you will drag your idiot friend right with you. “Why are you giving Hoseok such a hard time?” Namjoon asks, interrupting your revengeful mind. You sigh at the mention of him. “He’s a dick,” you state unapologetically. “He really isn’t once you get to know him,” Namjoon counter states, looking at you instead of the beautiful landscape beneath. It is clear that he has been here many times before since he barely notices what is around him. You like the view, though, and cannot keep your eyes off it. “Why did you invite them?” you ask back harshly. You do not see the fairness in Namjoon getting to question your reaction to his questionable actions. If he had not invited his friends, the two of you would be having a blast together by now. “I didn’t exactly invite them, but it’s Hoseok’s birthday tomorrow, and Yoongi suggested that we could take him skiing like we did when we were kids. I told him that you and I were already going, and he asked if they could just join us. I didn’t want trouble with you, but they are my friends too, you know?” Namjoon explains, and you listen, trying to understand. “I hoped, you wouldn’t mind since they are actually pretty decent people,” he adds. You scoff at that. “So, the guy who totally soaked me on the street is a decent person? It will take more than a flip of his hair and a show of his skills to convince me of that, Namjoon,” you state passive-aggressively. The boy sighs, but nods. “I know, but just give him a chance, okay? I promise, he is good,” Namjoon says. “I don’t know, maybe,” you say, and the boy accepts your answer. He cannot force you to like them, but something tells him that a maybe is enough to breed hope. “Good,” he says with a dimpled smile, and the conversation is left at that.

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After half a day on the slopes, you make your way to the main house for dinner. Your bodies are cold and worn out, causing you to relax deeply into the warm chairs at the restaurant. It is cozy and dimly lit, creating a nice atmosphere in the room with the low chatting of the other guests. “What a day,” Namjoon exhales as you finish eating. You all agree with his exhaustion and contentment. It was hard and challenging, but you did get better with practice, so the day turned out okay. “I’m nervous to wake up sore tomorrow,” Yoongi states with a half-smile, knowing what the future holds, and you all grimace at the thought. As Namjoon tells a story from his last time here, you notice that Hoseok is stealing glances at you. You distract him from listening to his friend’s story, and you have no idea why. You do not know that he is trying his best to figure you out, who you are and why you are so closed off towards him. It did not work to offer his help to you, so what do you want from him? Not to brag, but people usually like him. His friends call him a beaming sun, and he wonders why you do not feel the warmth he emits. He only wants to brighten your mood, but he cannot figure out how. You are a mystery, truly, but he intends to solve you in one way or the other.

[goodwriterwithbadhabits]

Running in Circles

Masterlist

I’m so sorry this one took so long, but I hope you like it! You asked for angst and I hope I delivered.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of death and suicidal thoughts. (this is a doozy)

~~

“You don't believe in soulmates? Isn't that contradictory to like, every study ever?”

Its not that you didn't believe in soulmates, your parents were soulmates, your best friend had a soulmate, but you just didn't think you had one. By the time you were 18, some sort of sign was supposed to appear, a red string or a timer or something, but here you were at 21, still waiting for something.

“Look, Jackson, It's not that I don't believe in them, I know you and Mark are soulmates. I know Chen and Xiumin are soulmates, I just don't think I have a soulmate.” You explained, shifting the phone you were speaking into to your other hand. “I don't have any of the usual signs, no visible marks, no glows, I just don't think I have one personally.” You shrugged, scurrying across the intersection to the next crosswalk. You could see Jackson sitting in your usual café just across the street.

“There's no way you don't have one. I've met, like, one other person without a visible connection and I'm almost certain he has a soulmate. Also, I bought you an Americano.”

“Why thank you, and maybe he does, but I've just never met someone I felt I had that kind of connection with.” The light across the way went green and you and the old lady standing next to you stepped out into the street.

“Y/n watch out!” Jackson's voice was loud in your ear but just as you turned to see what was happening, pain erupted in your side and you suddenly felt weightless. The phone fell from your grasp as you bounced against what must have been the roof of the car, and you landed hard on the ground. You couldn't move, and from where you lay you could see a dark stain spreading across the ground. “Y/n!” Jackson's voice seemed so very far away as darkness crept onto the edges of your vision.

“So close, try again.” The voice seemed to be right in your ear as you awoke in your bed with a gasp. 

“Aw, fuck.” You sighed, “What a dream.” Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you glanced at the clock, seeing that you were already running late for your scheduled lunch date with Jackson. “Shit.” Scrambling from your bed, you quickly dressed and scurried out the door.

He called not even a moment later and you thanked whatever god was out there that you only lived a few blocks away from the café.

“Hey, sorry I overslept, I'm on my way right now.” You explained rapidly. Jackson's laugh from the other line made you smile.

“Its no problem, but I saw your tweet from last night.” You groaned, remembering how drunk you had gotten the night before.

“Which one, I was non stop drunk tweeting until I passed out last night.”

“You don't believe in soulmates? Isn't that contradictory to like, every study ever?” Your heart stopped for a second, did he just say?

“What did you just say?” You breathed.

“I said, isn't that contradictory to like, every study ever?” You stopped walking, seeing him waving from his spot inside the café. “Hey, are you okay? What's wrong?”

“I'll explain when I'm inside.” You ended the called and moved to stand next to the old lady, but as the light turned green for you to cross, you set a hand on the old woman's shoulder, and a moment later a grey sedan barreled through the, thankfully empty, intersection.

“Oh my, he could have hit us.” She gasped. “Thank you.”

“You're very welcome,” You said as you finally crossed the street. “Stay safe.”

Inside the café Jackson was sitting at your usual spot by the window.

“Hey I got you an-”

“Americano.” You said together, making him look at you confused.

“Yeah, how'd you know?”

“That's what I need to explain. Look I woke up from a really weird dream last night and you said the same thing to me on the phone just now as you did in the dream.”

“Okay?”

“I didn't want to think much of it at first, but then the thing with the car.”

“What are you saying?” Jackson asked, setting his hands on your shoulders, trying to calm your nerves.

“I'm saying I just prevented my own death.” Jackson stared at you for a long time as you sat down and took a tentative sip of your coffee and finished telling the story.

“So in your dream we were on the phone, talking about soulmates, and then you were hit by a car and died.” He asked, pausing after every point to confirm it with you. “What if this is a soulmate thing?”

“Well I-” You paused, remembering the voice that had spoken in your ear, “So close, try again.”

“What was that?”

“Something I heard just before I woke up. It almost sounded like someone was in my head.” Jackson's eyes got really wide and he leaned close to loudly whisper,

“What if that was God?” As you opened your mouth to respond, a shooting pain erupted across your side and head.

“I don't understand what's happening.”

“Try again.” You stared at Jackson, the voice that had come from his mouth was the one he had heard earlier. “You have to get it right.”

“Jackson?” You asked you found it suddenly hard to breathe.

“Y/n? What's wrong?” There it was, Jackson's voice again.

“I think, I've got to start over.” You gasped out. “Try this again.”

“I don't understand.”

“Me neither.”

~~

“Shit” You gasped, sitting up in bed. This was day 5, four times you had either died or suddenly blacked out. “Why?” You shouted, grabbing fistfuls of your hair, you felt like vomiting. “What the hell is happening?” Your phone pinged, alerting you of a new message. That was different. Usually, Jackson calling you was the first thing to happen on your phone.

From: Unknown Number

Meet me at the bakery on 9th, I'll explain everything.

Dashing out of bed, you pulled on the same clothes as always, the third day you had tried to change clothes and found yourself restarting the day. As always, at precisely 10:13 Jackson called, just as you were tugging on your shoes.

“Hey, Jackson, I can't hang out today. Something's come up. You should invite Mark out, I'm sure he'd love to spend time with you. Great call you later.” You spewed, rushing out the door and in the opposite direction of the café. Hanging up you narrowly avoided being hit by a car, again, and practically ran in the direction of the bakery.

Sitting outside was a small woman, older than sin, and smiling softly at you. She stood as you approached and made her way into the building, motioning for you to follow her. She climbed the stairs faster than you anticipated, always seeming to be at the next landing as you made your way to the very top of the building. Bursting through the roof access, huffing from your journey up the stairs, you found her sitting at a small table, pouring tea into two of the three cups sitting on the table.

“Come here then, have a seat, love.” It was the voice, the one you kept hearing before you kept dying. You made your way to the vacant seat, but as you opened your mouth to ask a question she held up her wrinkled old hand. “I know you're brimming with questions, so was he-”

“He?” She stared at you incredulously.

“Your soulmate, what did you think this was?” You wrapped your hands around the empty teacup, finding it warm despite being untouched.

“I thought this was some kind of curse, for something I did wrong.” You felt ashamed saying it out loud.

“Ah, perhaps this could be seen as a curse,” She mused, “He probably thought so too.” She sipped her tea as if trying to find the right words. “I am, what you mortals might consider a god. I am simply in charge of ensuring everyone finds their soulmates. As you're aware, most soulmates have a sign that enables a perfect meeting, albeit not always the most spectacular. You, and others, weren't born with these signs, but I'm sure you know that by now.” You nodded along to her words. “You must meet your soulmate in the perfect way. You are meant to meet today, and you'll have to keep trying over and over until you meet correctly.”

“Ah.”

“I can't tell you who your soulmate is, but I can answer your questions, within reason.” She set her tea down and gestured for you to speak. Your head was swimming with questions, so many things needed answering.

“Why now?” She seemed confused at your question. “Most soulmates are made aware of each other by their 18th birthdays, but here I am at 21 and this is only just now happening, what changed? Why is today so important?” She smiled as if she were proud of your inquiry.

“Today, February the 24th of 2019, many events have changed in your recent life, new friends, a new job.”

“New friends? It's only been...Jackson.” You realized. She tapped her nose, not offering you a yes but telling you enough. “So Jackson is my connection to my soulmate, but we aren't supposed to meet at the coffee shop.” You grew quiet, trying to piece everything together. “I have another question.” You began softly.

“Ask, child.”

“I've died a few times already, but other times, I would feel pain, pain that wasn't mine, and I'd wake up again. Does that mean, my soulmate, he's dying too?” Your voice was quiet. Instead of answering, a brown leather notebook with the letter KB on the cover and a black pen was set on the table in front of you.

“Yes. You and your soulmate share the same fate. If you finish the day without meeting each other or starting over, you won't wake up again.” Your stomach churned. “This will walk with you through all your tries, take notes, collect your thoughts, and do not fail.”

Her footsteps began to recede as your anger began to bubble over. Deity or not, someone was playing with your life, for what? To meet someone you were required to fall in love with? If this woman was really a god she could have changed this.

“What kind of sick fucking game are you playing?” You practically growled. Her footsteps stopped, and you snapped your head up to look at her. “You think because people might consider you a god, you get to play with our lives?” She didn't seem surprised at your outburst. “You said you were in charge of tethering soulmates, so what, you, you forgot a few of us and decided to play a game of Groundhog Day for your own amusement?”

“You think I enjoy this, child?”

“Prove me otherwise.” You hissed, jumping from your seat, barely noticing you knocked over the tea set. The teacup you had been fiddling with was still hooked to your finger, almost as if it refused to be far from you

“This is my penance as much as it is yours. I failed to tether you to your soulmate because I believed you to be so strong in soul you'd have found each other by now, but you are still just another mortal, a foolish human, making foolish human mistakes.”

“Overestimating is also a foolish human mistake.” You challenged. You expected her to get angry with you, but instead, she seemed to get sadder and sadder with every bite of venom you threw at her.

“Maybe I was once human,” She whispered, finally looking you directly in the eyes. “Collect your thoughts here, child. It is almost time to start again.” Before you could respond, the roof access door was already shutting behind her. Now that your head was clear, having lifted some strange weight off your shoulders by yelling at a god, you crouched down to pick up the notebook and pen.

You wrote what you had been told, as well as the few hints you now had. When you were finished you tucked the book into your jacket pocket, before picking up the teacup again. It was still warm despite not having tea in it, and you could only guess that meant that whoever your soulmate is, had already spoken to her.

“Where am I supposed to start?” You wondered aloud, but when you opened the roof access door you were greeted with a cloud of smoke billowing from the lower levels. The building you were standing on was on fire, and you had no escape.

~~

Bambam wasn't expecting to find the bakery on fire when he came back to it. The black smoke billowed up from the windows as people poured out of the building.

“Well isn't that a shame. I was hoping they'd make it out before this happened.” The woman from earlier materialized next to him, effectively scaring the shit out of him.

“What do you mean?” He asked, she simply pointed upwards, towards the roof. Bambam followed her finger, finding someone on the roof, waving frantically. “Is that?” Before he could finish the question there was a loud groan from inside the building before it gave a great shudder and collapsed, and the sound of a scream followed it down. Pain erupted across Bambam's entire body and at that moment he understood.

His soulmate knew what was happening now, and she had been on that roof.

~~ “Son of a bitch” You shouted, bolting upright.

Another week had passed, your journal, as always, was laying on the bed next to you. You had only learned one new fact about your soulmate, his initials were KB, which was not helpful. You were starting to lose hope, and every day, you survived just a little bit longer. When Jackson called, you let it go to voicemail and texted him you weren't feeling up to going out. There were certain things you weren't allowed to do, but they didn't make sense. You couldn't wear different clothes, you couldn't change Jackson's ringtone and you couldn't leave town, you were effectively trapped in a bubble of a nightmare, all to find one person in this big ass city.

Deciding to just wander the town until you died again, you got dressed and slowly made your way downtown.  

As you passed the bank a group of men ran towards you down the street, making you press against the wall in order to not be ran over.

“Fuckers!” You called after them, continuing your walk, but as you crossed the opening of an alley nearby you heard the distinct sound of someone groaning in pain. “Hello? Is someone there?” You called, pulling up the flashlight on your phone. Making your way into the alley you were shocked to find a young man lying there on the ground, bleeding heavily from his stomach. “Oh my god.” You gasped, dropping next to him and practically ripping off your coat to stop the blood. His hand wrapped around your wrist and a spark exploded through your body. His eyes snapped open to focus on you.

“Its you.” He croaked.

“What's your name?”

“Kunpimook Bhuwakul” You stared at him incredulously for a moment, blinking as your brain tried to comprehend his name.

“Woah.” Was all you could muster, which made him let out a breathy laugh. “What happened?”

“I was just walking around, looking for you, when these guys grabbed me.” He explained. His hand came up to cup your cheek and wipe away a tear that cascaded down your cheek, “Why are you crying, beautiful?”

“I finally found you, but I don't think this hell is over.” You tried not to break into sobs, the feeling of 'so close yet so far' was overwhelming you. “You're bleeding too heavily for me to stop it.”

“Don't cry. We can find each other again, we've done it twice now.” He was trying to smile, but it wasn't holding.

“Twice?” The darkness was starting to creep onto the edges of your vision.

“At the bakery, I was down on the street.” Another smile teetered on his lips. “You're far more beautiful up close.”

“I'll find you, Kunpimook.” You assured him as his eyes began to close.

“My friends call me Bambam.” You barely caught his whisper before his eyes were shut tight.

~~

You sat up in bed, tears pouring from your eyes. “Bambam.” You gasped, frantically reaching for your journal to write down his name. For once, you met the day with vigor, dressing quickly and eagerly picking up the phone when Jackson called. “Hey Jack, I have a question, and it's not going to make sense to you, because we technically haven't had this conversation yet, but your friend without a soulmate bond, what's his name?”

“Wait what?”

“Your friend without the soulmate bond is his name Kunpimook, but he's usually called Bambam?”

“Yeah, how do you-”

“Not important, where does he live? I need his address, its a matter of life and death.” Jackson spouted off the address without hesitation.

“Why do you-”

“Look, Jacks, if I'm lucky this time around, I'll explain later, if I'm not so lucky. Well, just know I love you and you're very lucky to have the connection you do with Mark.” You hung up before he could say anything else and quickly input the address in your GPS.

You passed that fated alleyway as you practically ran to Bambam's house, but he didn't answer the door, instead another, rather tired looking, man did.

“Um, can I help you?” He asked.

“I'm sorry, but I'm looking for Bambam, is he here?”

“No he just left.” He assessed you as if trying to figure out who the hell you were.

“Fuck.” You mumbled, really hating this damn bond. “Do you know where he is?” The guy shook his head.

“Nope, he just said he had to find someone, and took off about 20 minutes ago.”

“Do you know which way he went?”

“Towards the bank is he in trouble, I've never seen you around before.”

“He's in trouble alright.” You grumbled. “And don't worry, either you'll forget I ever came here or Bambam and I will explain later.” You turned to head back to the bank, but paused, “Hey, what's your name?”

“Yugyeom. I'm Bambam's roommate.”

“Okay, thanks, Yugyeom. We'll meet for real eventually.” You smiled before walking away leaving the poor child both confused and tired.

You stared down at your journal, writing in the info you got about Yugyeom as you walked back towards the bank. When you passed the alley, you felt someone's hand grab your jacket and you turned eagerly to the person next to you, but it wasn't Bambam.

~~

Bambam flipped through his journal again, he still had barely any information. Throwing his head back against the wall of the bank he let out a loud sigh.

“Who is she?” He groaned. His pouting was cut short by the sound of a gunshot echoing down the street and a group of men bolting from the alley. “Shit.” He hissed. He ran towards the alley but the darkness was already creeping into his vision, and just as approached the mouth of the darkened alley, everything went dark.

~~

You sat up quietly, too emotionally tired for this anymore. 27 days had passed in total. You had lived the same day 27 times, now, for the 28th. Last night you had made it to 3pm before dying again. Finding Bambam was becoming more and more difficult. Neither of you kept on the same paths and were just mixing each other up.

This time when Jackson called, you picked up.

“Hey bestie.” You sighed.

“Hey, you still coming down?”

“Yeah, about that, I feel like shit from last night, going in the sunlight seems like it might kill me.” You joked. “Want to come over?” You offered.

“Yeah totally. I'll be right over, want me to bring something to drink?”

“A latte?” You asked.

“No problem, be there in a few minutes.” You hung up and stared at the clothes laying on your floor. You really didn't want to get dressed, but maybe you didn't have to. You could always just stay in your pajamas.

You were in the kitchen eating an apple when Jackson let himself into your apartment.

“Hey, sweetheart. I have a latte and cinnamon roll. I saw your tweets last night.” You groaned at his words. “Did binge drinking make you feel any better?”

“Not really. I feel awful and I have to clean my bathroom, but I did somehow make it into my Pjs before falling asleep.” You half-joked.

“You still look tired.” He noted, handing you the warm drink.

“Bad dreams.” You lied. “Though it felt like a reoccurring nightmare.” You sighed.

“Wanna watch Umbrella Academy and pretend to be fine?”

“Absolutely.”

Hours passed with the two of you barely speaking, just enjoying each other's presence.

“Hey Jacks?” You finally broke the silence.

“Wassup?”

“What would you do if your soulmate and you had to keep enduring really messed up stuff and had to keep reliving the same day over and over, and you weren't sure how to stop it?”

“What's got you thinking about that?” He finally looked over to you, but you were staring into the foreground, recalling all the things that had led to this moment. “Y/n?”

“I'm sorry Jackson, I just, just know that your last night wasn't my last night.” You sighed, picking up your phone as it pinged. “And it looks like I've got to go into work, someone there keeps asking for me.” You sighed.

“Its okay, why don't you meet me at the café later and I'll buy you some cheesecake?” He offered, already making his way to the front door.

“Okay. Thank you for being with me today.”

“I always like being with you, text me when you're on your way okay?” He pulled you in for a tight hug.

“Yeah, see you Jacks.”

~

You practically dragged your feet as you walked away from the hospital. Today felt wrong, it was already too late in the day for your comfort and with every second ticking closer to midnight, your heart sank a little farther. You clutched the journal in your chilled fingers, wondering if you should step into traffic to restart the day. Jackson's shrill scream, which you had recorded as a ringtone, broke you out of your suicidal thoughts.

“Hey, what's up?”

“I saw you down the road and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Yeah, there's just a lot on my mind.”

“Should I buy more cheesecake?” He asked as you approached the crosswalk.

“That might be a good idea, I have a lot to tell you.”

“Okay, I will see you in a few minutes.” He cheered, before hanging up. You looked up to see him waving and waved in return, stepping down from the curb to dash across the street. You were so dead focused on Jackson that you didn't register that someone had grabbed the back of your jacket until the car sped by you.

“Oh my god.” You gasped, eyes still trained on Jackson who was just as wide-eyed as you.

“Are you okay?” You knew that voice. Spinning you found yourself face to face with him, with Bambam.

“Its you.” You both said at once.

“Please tell me your name.” He nearly begged, pulling out his own journal to write it down.

“L/n, Y/n,” You breathed. “What are you doing around here? You live on the other side of town.”

“Jackson invited me out. I was supposed to meet him for breakfast but he had to cancel, said a friend needed him for something.”

“Excuse me?” You gasped. He let out a small chuckle.

“What?”

“I was supposed to meet Jackson for breakfast, but I kept canceling and this morning I asked him to come over.” Bambam stared at you for a moment before bursting into laughter.

“Wait, so you're telling me, if we had just stuck to our plans instead of ditching Jackson, we would have met sooner?”

“Yeah, I think you were supposed to save me from getting hit by a car this morning.” You realized.

“Do you think this means, that it's over? That we don't have to do this again?” You took his hand, lacing your fingers into his.

“I don't care if tonight is our last, whatever that crazy god says, I think this meeting was perfect.”

“Yeah,” He agreed. “Now we just have to explain what's up to Jackson,”

“And Yugyeom.” You laughed.

“Hey!” Jackson's voice interrupted the two of you. He was practically storming across the street to you. “Are you telling me I've spent all day trying to get you two together for you to just meet on the street?” He huffed.

“Oh, Jacks,” You breathed.

“You have no idea.”

[rotzaprachim]

trouble in the heartlands

(On AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/14893509 0

November, 1975

There’s really nothing in the world that says single and lonely like standing in the check out line on Thanksgiving evening with a flat pack of dried ramen, a bottle of Jack Daniels, and a frozen turkey dinner.

(The instant ramen is his usual Thursday purchase, but the frozen turkey dinner is for festivity, and the alcohol is because of how goddamn sorry for himself he feels right now.)

He’s counted out the change in his pocket three times, done the mental math of the tax before he reached the check out because god damn, there’s been enough times in his life when he’s been short at the end of it, scrounging for pennies in his pockets.

He thought he could count on solitude at 6:30 pm on Thanksgiving day, but someone comes up behind him and throws a solitary bag of marshmallows on the till.

Someone with a very familiar set of hands, perfectly manicured nails and all.

“If it isn’t the famous Lando Calrissian.”

“Ham Solo!”

Lando is impeccably dressed, as always, wearing dark jeans and a button-up shirt with a fall leaf design and some kind of a massive, almost cloak-like, knit cardigan that would look ridiculously terrible on Han but on him just works. Like everything does.

(Han’s wearing a different flannel shirt than yesterday. He thinks. Hopes.)

Lando’s eyes flit over Han’s shopping. He tries not to notice Lando’s eyelashes. Or his lips. Or .. . . anything else about him.

“Nutritionally balanced, I see.”

“Hey! The only thing you’re buying is a bag of marshmallows.”

“These are for my mother’s famous sweet potato casserole, if you must know. Lilah and Janie stole the first bag and now she’s sans marshmallows for her annual cookoff-slash-cage match with my Aunt Tia. And so I must play the part of the dutiful son,” he finishes, over dramatically tapping the bag of marshmallows.

Han vaguely remembers that Lilah and Janie are two of Lando’s nieces. The whole situation’s domestic enough that it stabs at his insides in a wierd, uncomfortable way. Like he has feelings.

The guy in front of Han finishes paying for his approximately million rounds of ammunition- god bless America!- and the cashier starts to ring up Han’s shit.

“3.85.”

“Wait a minute. It’s supposed to be 3.35.”

“3.85. If you can’t pay, put something back.”

He does’t have the extra fifty cents. What he does have is a bent coupon book he shoves at the cashier.

“3.35. Look, the noodles are on sale.”

“The Sizzling Shrimp Surprise and the Rockin’ Wasabi were on sale. The Picante Beef, as a premium flavour, are not.”

Han’s about to fight past the overwhelming wave of humiliation at having this drama play out in front of the ex-boyfriend he has not, in fact, gotten over yet emotionally, and swap the Picante Beef for a case of Rockin’ Wasabi, when Lando places two quarters on the till.

“Should cover it.”

“I don’t need-“

“It’s fine-“

“I don’t need it.”

“Jesus, Han. You don’t have to live your entire life in some kind of fucking self-impost "lone gunman" exile. That’s not the way that humans work.”

And suddenly they’re back in a slightly different argument in a very different place, and Lando is folding his stuff to leave and Han is saying things he will never, ever, stop regretting.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, and shoves his stuff into a plastic bag to leave.

“Hey,” Lando calls after him, “you looking for somewhere to spend Thanksgiving?”

It’s a question and an invitation and Han doesn’t which is the worse coward’s way- ignoring it, or taking it up and letting the disaster start all over again, this time with bigger stakes and sharper knives and deeper wounds.

He chooses the former, and trips over a display of fake plastic pumpkins on the way out.

December, 1981

Sometimes, the entire story of the disaster can be spread out on the conveyor belt: gauze, burn cream, disinfectant, and Lando Calrissian’s ex-boyfriend, standing and looking sheepish under the glaring supermarket lights, with a splotchy red hand he keeps waving around periodically.

(Sometimes, another story is spread out beside it, on the other side of the divider, on Lando’s side of the conveyor belt. Breath mints and a box of condoms and a small bouquet of those supermarket roses.)

“You’re sure you’re fine, Han?” He doesn’t even bother with wildly mispronouncing his name. “Because whatever happened to your hand, that looks like it needs actual medical attention. Not whatever shit you’re going to try.”

“I’m. Fine.,” he insists through gritted teeth, and given how overdramatic Han usually is, his forced placidity tells Lando that it hurts like hell.

“What happened?”

“The usual badass stuff, you know. Got into a fist fight with some guys next to a tortilla chip factory, things got ugly, had to take it to one of the vats of boiling oil-“

“Calm down, friend.” Lando does some quick mental math. “Fifth night of Hannukah, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

(“Not like, a major holiday or anything,” he remembers Han saying, “but it’s the only one that’s got my name in it- well, kinda, sorta, if you really mispronounce the first ch- plus there’s fried stuff and culturally sanctioned gambling.”)

“You burn yourself frying?” He has to laugh, just a little. “What’s changed?”

“SOLO!,” a voice screams across the mostly deserted row of check out stations. The voice belongs to a fair, pale woman, wearing a long white skirt and a distinctly annoyed expression. “The pharmacist said that only an idiot could mess applying this stuff. Your hand should be fine. Probably”

She wedges her way past Lando, slams a small box with a long medical name on the till, and then snaps her purse open.

“I can pay-“

One look of her narrowed brown eyes and Han shuts up.

“Y’think I can get a robot hand like Luke’s?”

“Luke lost his entire hand as a combat injury. You lightly burned yours trying to copy some trick you saw Julia Child do once because you couldn’t find a spatula.”

Han waves his hand in front of Leia’s face. “What part of this looks lightly burned? It hurts like hell.”

“Yeah, well, so do breakups and periods, but you don’t hear people asking for robot appendages to make up for those.”

There’s something familiar in the way they bicker, but also in the way Leia wraps her arm around his shoulders and buries her head against his neck while she laughs, even though she’s still also clearly pissed about the magnitude of idiocy involved in the latke incident. Lando decides not to overanalyse it, because even on the surface level it’s enough to stab him in the heart.

When Han introduces them they swap business cards. Leia Organa, City Councilwoman. Lando Calrissian, CEO, Bespin Industries. They’re the kind of people who’d meet at a dinner party or a networking event, somewhere with crudités and boxed white wine in little glasses where they’d take turns schmoozing and cutting at the stuffed shirts and pretentious titles. That’s how, Lando swears, he and Leia Organa were meant to meet. Not here, not in a harshly lit convenience store with massive displays of fake snow and gingerbread-flavoured candy canes, and not both a little in love with Han Solo.

February, 1983

He’s not sure there’s a clearer visual representation of “single-and-recently-heartbroken” than renting a pile of romantic comedies and buying cookie dough ice cream, but it’s 2 AM and at this point he feels like the only person alive.

The supermarket’s a ghost town, something vaguely macabre about the boxes of Captain Crunch and cans of corn at this hour of the night (morning?) Jesus, he used to be a party boy. This used to be the time that the night got going and the really wild shit started to go down. This used to be the time of night that he waited the rest of the day for.

Now he’s an adult. Now he’s a respectable adult with a successful energy business and a possibly mayoral bid. When the fuck did that happen?

Now he puzzles over wether to add in a box of Lucky Charms for the morning, before deciding fuck that, he’s an adult now, bread, eggs, and Bloody Mary fixings.

It ends up being a pile of stuff he’s going to have to schlep home. Taxi? But at this time of night? He forgot to bring a reusable bag. Plastic bags? He can practically hear Elle yelling at him.

He’s still in a hazy mood as he drops his stuff onto the conveyor belt, taking care so that the Smirnoff doesn’t roll over the side, when he notices the only other guy in line with him.

Fucking hell, the universe can be weird and cruel.

"Yeah, Leia, I got it, I got it, I'm in the checkout line, anything else you need? Saltines or anything. A pause. "No, of fucking course not! I didn't mean to suffest- Well I got it and we'll get home and we'll talk and- and yeah Yeah. We'll talk." He's mumbling into his .. . cell phone? Since when does he have a cell phone? "Yeah. I love you too."

"Hen Yolo. Imagine meeting you here.”

Hen Yolo looks even more dazed and stunned than Lando does. He doesn’t even have some snappy but clearly inferior comeback, which is the sign that something really big’s gone down.;

Lando’s eyes flit to the one item Han’s buying, a small shiny box that Han keeps drumming his fingers against tunelessly. Anxiously.

Shit. Something really small, then.

“Oh,” says Lando, because even he can’t really think of how to respond to running into his fucking ex-boyfriend at 2 AM in a convenience story buying a fucking pregnancy test.

(He notices, right then, that Han still has the remnants of the burn scars across the backs of his hands, his knuckles. They look almost floral.)

“Hey,” says Han.

Instinctively, his hand snatches over to cover the test, eyes darting like cornered prey.

(It’s not beyond Lando’s notice that Councilwoman Leia Organa has become Senator Leia Organa since the last time they met. And who can forget the months of tabloid buzz over her being the secret daughter of President Vader, either?)

(Also: at some point those tabloids are going to get ahold of Han and have a field day. He looks like a doctored-ly terrible paparazzi photo most of the time anyway. And however this current situation plays out, there’s a high likelihood Han’s going to be pulled from the shadows as something more than Senator Organa’s secret boyfriend/occaisonal driver.)

“My lips are sealed, Solo.”

Han nods, distracted, almost bouncing off the balls of his feet, more nervous teenager than the 30-something man he is. He’s projecting enough rays of nervous energy to power an entire city.

The cashier doesn’t spare a glance at what Han’s buying as she rings him up. “Cash or credit?”

“Credit.”

He pulls a sturdy-looking leather wallet that Lando’s never seen before from his jeans pocket and takes out a fancy silver card.

Lando pretends to be shocked. “Credit? Han Solo with a credit card? What are you, moving up in the world? Respectable?”

He ignores Lando, shoves his purchase into a paper bag, and stalks out the door.

Maybe it’s because he’s a goddamn idiot without any sense of self-preservation either, or maybe it’s because he actually goddamn misses the man who was, for years, his best friend, but Lando makes a split decision and dashes out after Han, leaving his place in line and all his groceries still on the till.

“Solo! SOLO! HAAAAN!”

Childish, maybe, but it’s enough to make Han slow down. Not turn around, but slow down, and when he reaches his car, stop.

“What do you want?”

Because they’ve lied to each other enough times before, Lando decides to be honest.

“My old friend back.”

“Fucking hell, Lando, it’s too late for you to come pulling me back into your-“

“Not as we were, clearly. It’s far too late for that.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it definetely is.”

More awkward silence. Lando notes that the Falcon now has a bunch of Leia’s campaign stickers on it and that Han’s done. . . well at least a cursory job at cleaning the inside of it out. He’s taken some of Chewie’s fur off the seats, at least. He’s still got the gold dice.

“Hold out your arm,” Lando finally instructs.

“Why?”

“Because I'm giving you my new number and this is the only way I now you won’t loose it.”

Lando pulls a Sharpie out of his pocket while Han reluctantly rolls back a sleeve. He writes his number on Solo’s arm with big, mildly humiliating strokes, and then scrawls - Calrissian, CEO Bespin Industries, future mayor- on his wrist, just for slight irritation’s sake.

(If you got rid of of ten years, the pregnancy test, and the parking lot, and added in some terrible pounding music, a disco ball, and some terribly v-cut shirts, this could almost be the first time they met.)

“Thanks. I’ll call you.”

“I’ll hold you to it.”

“Who knows? Maybe I’ll send you an invite to one of Leia’s Shabbat dinners. They’re pretty great. All three senator Organas, her brother and whoever his current boyfriend is, her eldritch abomination of a biological father-“

“Really?”

Lando’s one experience with President Vader can only really be quantified as soul-shaking terror, but the image of him sitting down with Leia and Han at a dining table is almost hilarious.

“Nah, he’s serving a life sentence. But come anyway.”

Who knows? It’s a long life. Maybe he will.

“How’r things going for you? The mining thing really took off, didn’t it?”

“Sustainable energy, Solo. It’s made me more money than you could ever dream of-“

“Hey-“

“So I’ve been thinking about what to do with it. Sports car, mansion, creating a network of mentorship opportunities for kids in tech, sustainable development, politics, capes, paying off special interest groups. You know, the usual.”

Han smiles and bites his lip. “Have you changed at all?”

“Yes. Like I said, I’m rich.” He claps Han on the shoulder, just enough to shake the man slightly. “Enough on me. You gotta get home. You gotta get back to Leia.”

He nods and jumps into the Falcon, which rumbles as argumentatively to life as it always does.

“See you around.”

Lando watches the Falcon drive off. He decides that rescuing his groceries from the check-out line isn’t worth it, pulls out his phone, and calls a taxi.

[victoriavmw82]

Da Funk

Since I have been staying at my friend's pad, one of her dogs took a liking to me. It was her sons dog, Sir aka: Rookie Wookie. That dog just loved me to pieces, why I have no clue, he would sit by the door and wait for me, sit infront of the bedroom and lay in the hallway.....hoping I would cave in and let him lay with me. I was tempted to take him out and do a photo shoot and me dress up almost as if I stepped right out of an episode of Star Wars.....the vintage story more like around the time frame of Dryden Vos. I imagining I was the love interest or one of his captives/ assistant. Rookie Wookie even made sounds like Chewbacca which was hilarious. The first time he did it to me it caught me off guard because he had gotten out and typically when dogs get out of they run wild and your forever trying to catch them......this morning it was different he and LG had gotten out. Now LG is a pit mixed,Sir/ Rookie Wookie is a red heeler mix. I believe he is red heeler and spaniel mixed.....but my friend will swear up and down he was a German Shepherd mixed🙄 So Rookie Wookie he did what I call a victory run and then he went to pee. LG followed suit. I walked over to them, LG continued to use the restroom and looked at me as if to say, "Do you mind?!" Rookie Wookie sniffed the grass and as soon as he saw me he ran over making the sound 🤣😂I didn't realize it but if Harrison Ford had been standing there everything that I said and did afterwards, well sounded like I was talking to Chewbacca 😂🤣I was even trying to whisper cuz it was morning🤣😂The dogs listened😮 Surprisingly! I told Wookie it was time to go in and he followed me sniffing everything along the way, LG ran over to me. LG got in the door we had to wait before it was Rookie Wookie's turn he heard the camotion and began to howl looking at me between breaths of howling much like Chewy would😂🤣I realized this in the second round of howling and played the part, laugh out loud. Rookie Wookie knew when I was upset, knew when I was happy and knew when I needed a laugh or was sad. My first night at my friend's I even woke up to him literally sleeping in my lap, almost like he knew I needed a hug, the next night he slept at my foot which is the biggest compliment ever. I find it interesting that it was him that took up with me because I happen to be a HUGE Tom Hiddleston fan, like huge. Tom Hiddleston, apparently has a fur pet, named Buddy I'm not sure if Buddy is a Cocker Spaniel or Red Heeler or a mix of the two but needless to say Sir/ Rookie Wookie looked very similar. This season has been a very weird one since January mainly since March, there are times for me as fan getting ready for the release of Loki and then me as a fan going through all in one season the fandom of Loki;catching up,cuz I spent most of those years in a shelter.......ALL the MCU movies I watched while in the shelter. The whole reason we began was to pull me out of my funk, imagine that, going through something and a friend suggested we start watching the movies and ya know it worked. We for a short while, at least while the Avengers and Thor was doing their thing....we became family, doing what the Avengers would do, pausing to eat together.....me being the Loki at times.....a lot of times actually 🤣😂looking back on it and then turning around and being genius in the kitchen dispite what I was going through and like Dr. Strange rocking it out, being taken out of the kitchen and feeling much like Dr. Strange did afterwards and me like Dr. Strange forced to find higher purpose to heal myself and well getting a result much like Dr.Strange.

I've spent most of this season honestly trying to figure out if I'm to risk everything and try, try to break through at age 38 now 39 with the purpose of trying to see Lady Deadpool come to life on Cinematic screen or if I'm supposed to at age 39 go for it and try to make it as a make-up artist and or hairstylist. I considered risking everything and trying to go for a chance of a lifetime for a series that actually wanted to train those wanting to learn.......the only thing that stopped me was it was in a different country and it's one thing to be homeless close to home but homeless going for your dreams in a foreign place I actually was like.....Ummm if I fail,it's gonna be an epic fail and Well ya!" Although Scotland sounded like a dream hashtag goals and well, I do know a lot of biblical info enough to have the average person left going😲😮Like you stored that away in your brain....what the heck! Why aren't you a scholar or something 😂🤣 So I found out that my buddy that found me parelled his, I just keep wondering if this was a sign. I was not the dogs owner, and yet it listened to me as if I was, almost like he choose me. So I'm still up in the air what I should do honestly, I've been inspired by so much this season it's hard to put it all down and honestly some strange things that have happened that almost make me think I should try. I've been debating on if I should move to New York. Why New York, I haven't got a clue it just keeps coming up. There was a job opening recently that was in New York, I felt it was a job I should have applied for because I could have rocked it out, I let fear get in the way from applying, again being homeless in New York, is not ideal or starting over again.....it's literally sink or swim. Cold winter.....being homeless in the winter sucks ass, just saying. Imagine being up North......No!!!!!! So that was the factor that stopped me that and Pandemic issues in regards to the Delta Varient. However, it does keep coming up, should I try starting over again in another state, would I be more successful? Who knows, in my opinion I think it would be the same, just different people and scenery so to speak but hey I could be wrong. I keep thinking that my life is gonna some how change drastically for the good by moving to New York, like almost as if it was destiny type thing. I don't believe much in destiny but it keeps coming up, the whole New York thing. The shelter systems in a way are even better, the programs and the success rate and resources are better. However I'm not sure if those statistics are based off of women with children if this also includes women without children and women in my age bracket, that also plays a factor believe it or not. Not living there I can already without digging probably guess that shelters are gonna probably be in or near Brooklyn, so to me then there is the factor of how do I get to interviews, jobs, if I do pursue my dreams schooling or classes. Restaurants are probably gonna be on the other side of the bridge then there's the factor of the bridge, during the winter is that something I need to be doing. How long are these programs for time line wise am I looking at a couple of weeks to get a job,save and find something or is it 90 or 180 days or something between those two numbers. What are the other variables. I can tell you all about Texas, TABC, Food handlers, etc but in another state what's it like? Health care, would my situation medically be able to be fixed there through indegent programs or are my chances better here in Texas??? Cuz that has to be taken care of at some point.

My goal if I do this would be to move there, get in a shelter cuz I have nothing, first get my medical issue taken care of then work on what I'm calling physical therapy (losing weight)training down to the size I'm normally at which is an athletic size 12 or 14, while I'm doing that since medical issue is taken care of working and saving, finding a place then from there either going back to school or doing the crazy and attempting to start an acting career or technical backstage career either as makeup artist and hairstylist or just makeup artist and possibly my other strength in tech; props and set building, believe it or not. I already asked my high school drama teacher when I thought I was gonna apply for the Good Omens job opportunity if she'd be willing to write me a letter of recommendation and she hands down was all for it.....soooo I'm not sure. I mean it would be a big risk. I keep having reoccurring dreams were I'm in New York, I'm not sure if it's a sign or if there's something else that is being said to me in my dreams and I'm just focusing too much on the literal. Either way I've been doing a lot of thinking since February 😬.

Back to Rookie Wookie, he passed today. It came as a shock to me. Like I said for whatever reason he was brought into my life even if it was, just for a short while to help me along to the next part of my journey but I must say, my jaw like to have hit the floor that again on the fact that a four legged friend mine was similar to someone I admires fur baby. What is so weird about this is,in my dreams, Sir/Rookie Wookie was there with me in New York, I had asked my friend if he could go with me and she had said yes. We walked a trail together in a park, if that even exist and we would go have coffee together and I'd feed him pieces of apple or frozen green beans🤣😂sounds weird, I know and I even got him certified so he was my service dog, I imagined him a Wookie and me dressed space age😂🤣even the collar. I know I had waaaaay too much dream thought into this and then he'd sit with me head in my lap while I read to him whatever book I was reading or with me enjoying whatever music I was listening to. In my dream we even jogged together. I firmly believe that some animals have a spirit about them, almost as if they are like sent from God to be with you or that they have a human type personality Rookie Wookie was that type of animal and he will be missed greatly.

[20smthngrp-blog]

                                     ( JUNG HOSEOK, 23 )

Name: Jung Hoseok Date of Birth: 1994/09/24 Occupation: Part-time Photography assistant/Part-time arcade attendant

SPARKNOTES:

i. for the past ten years hoseok has kept a journal he has tried to update every single day (he’s properly missed a few here and there but it’s okay) about what he did that day and often pastes pictures in the book. he’s bought the same brand of diary for consistency’s sake this entire time now to see how he’s changed as he grows.

ii. he had a fairly normal childhood. hoseok is relatively close with his family who have stayed down in gwangju and often visits them during the holidays. he originally moved up to seoul for his higher education and stayed post-graduation for a better (more exciting) life in the city.

iii. the majority of his closet consists of black sweats and hoodies. actually he doesn’t have that many pieces in his wardrobe if we’re being honest. hoseok always looks like you caught him on laundry day. you can always see him in socks and his (ugly) nike slides, rain, sleet, or snow. often he also sports a sucker in the corner of his mouth.

iv. during 2017, hoseok became a fan of the chill underground themed hip-hop and r&b playlists on youtube and always has them playing low in the background when he’s at home so he never feels lonely in his apartment.

v. his apartment is a small one room on top of itaewon berith tattoo parlor. he has a poster of jiyoung from bolbbalgan4 above his bed that clashes with the rest the room, but he loves her and hopes to see her in concert some day.

vi. he’s super into self improvement books. hoseok is under the impression “why waste time living your life without confidence and self-love.” many people find him to be a good stable person to get advice from. all around the boy is a relatively positive person and is thankful for what he has.

vii. hoseok’s favorite drink is aloe juice. the entire side drawer of his fridge is dedicated to his aloe juice bottles he’s picked up from the convenience store. you’d think he’d just buy it in bulk, yet he just hasn’t.

viii. his given birth name actually was jung hojoon. right after he graduated high school, hoseok’s mother took him to a tarot card reader who told him in order to flourish and fly high in adulthood, he should change his name to something fresh and told him hoseok was a better fit for his new start.

ix. the boy is an all around confident person but does have a complex about his knees, so he just…never shows them. shorts are the devil.

x. he just recently graduated from hongik university and was an industrial design major. he has no idea where to go from here with his life and for now is just seeing where the wind will take him. so long as he can pay his bills and party here and there, the kid is pretty okay.

FREEFORM:

february 2017

the walls had been closing in for a long time now, but he had never noticed.

hoseok had been with sarang for the past two years, now going on three. it seemed like all they had been doing nowadays was fight. she’d follow him no matter where he went, whether it was a simple life down in gwangju, or even attend the same university as hoseok in hongdae, the young girl wanted to go where her boyfriend went.

hoseok didn’t have a lot of problems with this at first. he had big dreams for himself and for his life and the fact his love was always ride or die by his side was great, that was until actual adulthood started to encroach. “we live together i know…but my parents are still wanting to know when we’re going to get married.” it seems the frequency of these types of comments were growing by the day. it used to be twice a year, but now..now hoseok swears it has to be four times a day. by no means was the boy against marriage, but he’s barely twenty-two, what’s the rush?

morning: “baby…we have plenty of time yeah? what, are you wanting to get married tomorrow? n..n– that wasn’t a literal question..i can barely cook for myself, don’t have a proper job, no full functioning place. we have time sarang-ah.. i love you. trust me..”

afternoon: “baby..”, he laughs trying to break past his girlfriend’s poutiness, “we already talked about this yeah? ya boy is still a waddling idiot. i don’t even have a proper paycheck, how could i take care of you…i know it means a lot to you and your parents..we have time though okay?”

before dinner:  “sarang…….sweetheart….i feel like you’re not even hearing me..”

after dinner: “why do you want to get married so bad……”

it gets worse by the day until sarang can feel hoseok’s usual sweet tone turn more and more stern. there was only so much arm twisting she could do until it was going to break.

she had a life she had planned out and dreamt about for herself. sarang was a country girl, with country dreams of living a life just how she saw her mother grow up. get married young, raise a big family, that was a happy life. she had expectations, she had things she felt she was entitled to. didn’t she deserve a happy life?

now or never; an ultimatum.

“if you aren’t ready to marry me right now, you never will want to hoseok..”, she threatens.

surely that wasn’t the case, but sarang wasn’t willing to hear it. it was the first time she actually fully said it. the thing she had been dancing around for so long. hoseok wasn’t ready…and he wasn’t quite sure why was this happening in the first place.

“you had your fun didn’t you?! we finished school, you got to go up and enjoy some college life in seoul. you got to have your good time, hoseok. it’s time to start a family.”

what was she even talking about, the man was still a baby. at one point in secret hoseok had gone to the ring store to just glance around to humor the idea, but every single thing about it felt wrong. it just wasn’t in him right now.

never good at expressing his emotions fully, so he just sits there, eyes welling up behind his bangs. it may have been the first time sarang had brought that much out of him.

“you deserve everything you want for your life sarang-ah..i swear to god i’ve always given my best to you…..i’m sorry…i….i can’t..just not right now….”

she leaves him, six months later finds a man who is on her page. they’re going to get married in the spring.

it takes hoseok the majority of the year to cope with the loss and grief.

his tight friend group help him get back on his feet and for that he is fully indebted.

[cafephan]

the danny situation/explaining my hatred of april 1st

okay here’s a post i never thought i’d be typing up. i can count on one hand with fingers to spare, how many people know this story, and none of them are family members or anyone i have any form of contact with anymore. yet here i am sharing it with the internet, but i feel like i need to articulate it and note it down somewhere rather than still trying to repress it even years later when it’s clearly not working and recently it keeps coming to haunt me more than ever

just a pre-warning some of you are going to think i’m pathetic for this still affecting me and will think it’s no big deal and it’s not worth posting about but i think it’s important for myself to finally just write it all down, judge me if you want i’ve gotten enough of it before

so, i’m wildly unattractive, i don’t feel as if i have to prove that to anyone. and if highschool movies have taught us anything about the typical ugly girl, what is it? that they always end up crushing on the cute guy (obviously this is a cliche movie trope and doesn’t apply to real life except it did to me, very much so). 

i considered changing his name for the purpose of this, but no like what’s the point. his name was danny and he was in my form group for the duration of the five years of secondary school, meaning we saw each other every day. he was also in my maths group (shout out to other people in set three, forever average) and little old me just used to fawn over him and not so subtly stare at him the entire time. though, having no friends, nobody was there to call me out on it, which looking back is both a blessing and a curse. 

like i said, i’m wildly unattractive now, so take a moment to imagine me in 2008. puppy fat aplenty, the chubbiest cheeks you ever did see and resting bitch face (which still hasn’t left me). i was a mess. but i saw danny as some kind of god - which he definitely wasn’t, i hate myself for ever thinking that lmao - and though i was always terrified to try and strike up conversation, it never stopped me smiling whenever he looked my way (we were only one person apart in the register too which helped in assemblies) and the odd times he did the polite thing and smiled back i would practically melt on the spot. 

the not so subtle crushing continued for four years, which takes us to our second-to-last year of secondary school. for some reason i had been forced to do a resistant materials gcse because i was apparently in ‘the cream of the crop’ in my year group throughout the past years’ DT (design and technology) classes, and still to this day i have no fucking idea why they put me in there because all i did was use the sanding machine. but anyway, DT god danny was also on the course, and he noticed me struggling with literally every part of it that wasn’t done on computers and took to helping me with little tasks alongside his own projects and unsurprisingly i was internally screaming because oh my god our hands just brushed on the desk vice and other cringeworthy shit like that which i’ve probably used in an early fic or two. there’s nothing more really to note on that year just remember that he started being nice then. another thing worth saying is that this is the year i started to wear a bit of makeup and when i came to maths class one day with pale eyeshadow on, he said that he didn’t like it and so i never wore it again (you should never change yourself for anyone, if something makes you feel good then you keep doing it okay, you dont need anyone else’s validation, i just wish younger kirsten knew and believed that)

the year after is where things happen so it’s late february 2013, and i came home from my grandparents’ house to find a new message in my facebook inbox. without being dramatic because this literally happened, i swear my breath caught in my throat because danny had just messaged me saying ‘hey babe’ i remember it distinctly, and i squealed into a pillow. i replied immediately, then flopped back on my bed wondering why this had happened, there’s never been anything appealing about me either in appearance or personality, so the reason why was a mystery, but i was so wrapped up in being completely head over heels heart eyes i didn’t really give it a second thought, because he replied a second or two later with another pet name.

these casual messages with petnames continued all through march and stupidly i started saying petnames back (which in itself is a reason to repress this whole thing), and on march 31st we were chatting and suddenly he says ‘can we skype tomorrow?’ and i literally cried, i was so happy. i’d heard girls in school talking about skyping with boys and a small very petty part of me wanted to be one of them and i felt as if i just might have the chance. obviously i said yes and we both logged off.

aaaaaaaand around rolls april 1st. the lovely lovely holiday of april fools day. what a fucking delight. 

i’m sure you can see where this is going, right?

so i dressed up nice and waited for the skype call to come through, and when it does i desperately try to calm myself down, and look to the ground and take deep breaths. my blood ran cold when i heard multiple boys’ laughter coming from the other end of the call. there were six of them, including danny.

without even addressing i was there (obviously they knew i was there) they started reading out the messages that it turns out they had been taking turns to send to me from his account, and put on a really high pitched voice reading my responses. 

(sidenote: i’m genuinely crying right now as i write this i’m sorry if there’s any typos from now on my vision’s gone blurry)

when they finally finished - i don’t know why i didn’t end the fucking call myself, i was just frozen out of fear and embarrassment and mortification i guess - they all burst into laughter, danny laughing probably the loudest. i was crying, and i opened my mouth to say something, but i was crying too heavily. this caused them to laugh louder, and one of them said “and even now she can’t fucking say anything, freak.” they laugh again and one of danny’s friends leaned in close to the webcam. “did you honestly think he liked you?” he asked, and i stupidly nodded, because at some point i’d let myself believe it, again because i had no friends to tell me how stupid and dodgy the whole thing was. 

then his friend went back and danny himself leaned in close. “april fools” he said with a horrible grin and blew a kiss to the webcam before the call ended, and i. fucking. lost. it. 

still to this day, i don’t think i ever cried that much. i had panic attack after panic attack, i didn’t get any sleep, and nothing could calm me down. it still holds the top spot of worst night of my life, and trust me it’s had many many challengers for that title since.

the next day, because i shut myself off from the internet that night, i woke up to three new facebook messages. from three of his friends who were on the call with him. ‘happy april fools, sweetheart’ one of them said, ‘i can’t believe you thought you had any chance with him lol nice try darling’ said another, and the final read ‘just kill yourself already. babe’. all petnames ‘danny’ used at one point.

so that is the reason i beg you all to not send any form of prank on april fools day to me. because it brings back the memory of that. every april 1st i cry myself to sleep, and though i know you all mean well, any involvement with that holiday, no matter how small, sets me off. 

this incident is the reason i couldn’t accept compliments in the early days, long time followers will remember, i’m sure. this incident is the reason i’ve not been able to have crushes on anyone. i’ve never let myself because in the back of my mind i’m always worrying things will turn out the same way. if i start to feel anything for anyone i back away and leave them alone completely. this incident is the reason i struggle to form friendships. tied in with the bullying and the fact i had no friends to teach me what friendship was, naturally.

in case you were wondering, danny’s engaged now, he’s happy. i think i saw on facebook they’re trying for a baby. which is good for them, but i can’t help but feel like it’s not fair. he’s off playing happy families and living life whilst i’m still here suffering from a stupid fucking prank when he knew full well i was crushing on him.

it was only three years ago, so i suppose it’s understandable, and i’m in a much better place with myself now than i was which helps, but it’s something that’s really etched itself into my brain and is still affecting me to a certain degree. i feel like now i’ve typed it all up, i might be able to sleep easy, it does feel as if a huge weight has been lifted. plus, i think i’ve made allusions to this story before various times but none of you pried about it which i really appreciate, you’re all so incredibly lovely and i can’t thank you enough.

so there’s the danny story and the reason i hate april fools’ day.

if you read this far, then thank you, and if you think i’m overreacting still, you’re more than entitled to your opinion, i’ve been judged on many things before and what’s one more to add to the list by this point. 

i love you all very much and hope you have a great rest of your day and i’m sorry if this dampened anyone’s mood in any way. i hope this has given you a little more insight to me, i don’t know why it would’ve but who knows. sorry.

xx

[artificialqueens]

What Next? (Katlaska) - Jem

AN: I started this oneshot on Valentine’s Day and totally forgot to finish it until recently. This is for the anon who requested tooth-rottingly sweet Katlaska.

Summary: Alaska has a huge crush on her coworker Katya, so her and her friends devise a plan to leave candy hearts for her every day leading up to V day. Little does she know Katya hates Valentine’s Day

What Next?

When she starts, it’s just a little bit of harmless fun. Since Alaska started working at RuCorp she’s had her eye on Katya, and in the months that have passed, she’s become a bit…infatuated.

Katya is so unlike anyone Alaska’s ever met. She’s such a hard worker, always seemingly calm and in control but with a boundless sense of creativity. Then there’s her bright smile, pretty eyes, shiny hair, and of course, her totally toned body. She seems to have her life together in a way that Alaska can only dream about. And dream she does, about Katya kissing her senseless on top of her desk until she can’t remember her own name.

So naturally Alaska never speaks to her. She’s a bit shy despite how professional and social she appears to her clients and Katya is too beautiful and too put-together to talk to without making a fool of herself.

Then, it’s a week before Valentine’s Day and all Alaska can think about is some way to let Katya know just how special she is. It’s not like she’s ever gonna tell her, she doesn’t even know if Katya likes girls, anyways, but she needs to do something.

Courtney decides to help her because she’s a hopeless romantic, and Willam agrees because she thinks it’ll be funny if Alaska gets caught. She’s not going to get caught.

She has to buy three containers of candy conversation hearts, because some of them say stupid things like “Cool” and “My Man” and she needs to make sure she has enough of the good ones. She knows Adore will probably eat the extras with little prompting.

Alaska starts a bit innocuously with a pink and yellow heart that say “Nice Girl” and “My Star”, respectively. She has Willam place them on Katya’s desk next to her coffee when she goes to the bathroom. She’s too nervous to do it herself, and Willam is good at lying on the spot if she gets caught.

Her plan is to place two hearts in Katya’s office every day this week until February 14th. She’s not a stalker, so it won’t be any more than that. Just a nice gesture from a forever-secret admirer. Harmless.

The next days she gets a little bolder. Courtney distracts Katya with small talk while she puts a candy in the desk drawer and one beside Katya’s mouse. These ones say “My Lady” and UR A 10”. Once she really gets the hang of it all she starts leaving them in less-obvious places so Katya has to work for it a bit.

Nothing changes in the woman’s demeanour in their weekly office meeting. Katya barely acknowledges Alaska as Ru explains the layout of the week, which isn’t much different than normal. They really don’t talk often because Alaska’s heart threatens to beat out of her chest and her words come out fumbled every time they do. Obviously Katya doesn’t know anything is up. Alaska asks Courtney if she’s heard anything about Katya mentioning the hearts, but it seems she hasn’t spoken about them to anyone in the office. Alaska can’t help but imagine what Katya must think about the situation. Does she wonder who is leaving the pastel candy for her? Or has she not even noticed?

No, she must have. The previous day’s hearts are always gone when she places the next ones.

The messages get a little more direct as the week goes on. Alaska leaves “Let’s Talk”, “Say Yes”, “Hold Me” and “Only You” around the office. The colourful candy looks cute tucked on Katya’s shelf with her Russian books. The day before Valentine’s Day she puts a purple “Let’s Kiss” and orange “Love you” right on her desk where it all began. It’s s bit exhilarating, sneaking around to leave tokens of her affection behind. It gives Alaska something to do with the pent up feelings and it makes her a lot more confident.

Maybe she should reveal herself to Katya? There’s always a chance she might feel the same way, even if it’s very unlikely.

“It’s going to be Valentine’s Day, anything can happen on the most romantic day of the year!” Courtney persuades her that night. They’re having a girl’s night in at Alaska’s apartment, but they’ve been too caught up in her love life to pay attention to the movie on screen.

“Stop being a stalker and just tell her already.” Willam says it a lot more pointedly than Courtney, but Alaska knows it’s out of love.

“Do you really think she’ll like me back?”

“It’s worth a try. Nothing bad happens if she says no, and I’m tired of watching you pine after her. Once you know, you either fuck and fall in love, or you can finally move on with your life.”

She decides to do it. This time she goes into Katya’s office to wait. In her hand, she holds the final hear: “Be Mine”. The anxiety eats her up as she stands by Katya’s empty desk, waiting for the woman to come back from her coffee break. She brushes her fingers through her hair nervously, talking herself into staying.

It’ll be ok, she tells herself. No matter what happens.

What feels like years later Katya comes back. She’s looking down at her coffee when she enters her office, and before Alaska can speak, she looks up at her and opens her mouth.

“Is this some kind of fucking joke?” Katya says, and it’s bitter but not in a humourous way.

“What?” Alaska is distraught. It’s not the reaction she’s been expecting at all. “No?”

“God, and I thought you were the one person here who actually liked me.”

“I do like you. What the fuck are you talking about?”

“This!” Katya yells, shoving a handful of candy hearts she pulls out of her pocket up in Alaska’s face. “You’ve been leaving these all over my office for the past week.”

“Yes?” Alaska still doesn’t know what’s going on. She’d been planning on telling Katya, but hadn’t realized the woman had already known it was her.

“Oh, don’t play dumb with me.”

“I’m not, I swear.”

“You know, everyone here fucking knows so I’m sure someone told you.”

“Katya….”

“I hate Valentine’s Day.” Katya articulates, speaking clearly like she thinks Alaska is a stupid toddler. “Because my last ex literally broke up with me on February 14th, right here in this office and everyone got to see me humiliated and in tears and they haven’t let me live it down once.”

Katya has fire in her eyes, and Alaska never expected this so she doesn’t know what to do or what to say but she can feel the tears welling up in her eyes. She didn’t know, if she did, she wouldn’t have done this.

“I-I’m sorry.” She chokes out, brushing past Katya as quickly as possible to get the hell out. She feels like such a fool. Not only is she dumb enough not to have known about Katya’s past, but she’s been stupid enough to think she could do something nice and have her feelings reciprocated. Katya obviously doesn’t feel the same way.

Alaska proceeds to have a nice emotional breakdown in the public washrooms. Her hands are clammy, and the words on the candy in her hands are starting to smear. She drops it at the bottom of her purse, wanting to forget she’d ever seen it.

She hears someone walk in, and there’s a moment of panic where she realizes her makeup is smudged, her nose is red, and there’s frankly no hiding the fact that she is in the middle of a crying spell.

“Alaska?” Alyssa comes in and doesn’t ask anything else. She just wraps Alaska up in a warm hug. “Oh baby.” She whispers as Alaska completely breaks down in her arms.

———

“Woah there, Katya, are you ok?”

Katya nearly runs Courtney over as she storms out of her office.

“I can’t believe this! Did you know?” She can’t help but accuse the Australian, she’s Alaska’s friend after all.

“Know what?”

“About Alaska? God, I can’t believe she’d go through the lengths of pulling such an elaborate prank just to make me feel horrible. I thought we were all adults here.”

“What are you talking about?”

“She always seemed nice enough, a little withdrawn and cold maybe, but this Trixie thing? Fuck, she’s a total bitch.”

“Alaska doesn’t know about Trixie.”

Katya raises her eyebrows skeptically, stopping her frustrated pacing immediately at Courtney’s words.

“She doesn’t. She’s only worked here a few months and none of us told her.” Courtney pauses, the realization obviously dawning on her. “You thought the candy was a prank?”

“She really didn’t know?”

“Of course not. Alaska may be a lot of things, but she’s not a monster.” Courtney says. “She really likes you, Katya.”

“I thought….”

“You thought what?”

“I thought she was making fun of me.”

“Why would you think she’d want to upset you?”

“No one here really likes me,”

“That’s so not true.”

“Well everyone either makes fun of me about Valentine’s Day or has avoided the topic like they thought it was a direct reflection of me being a loser.”

“God Katya, no one thinks you’re a loser. We just thought it was a sore spot, so we never brought it up. It was out of love. I forgot you and Trixie broke up on Valentine’s Day, to be honest.”

“You’re saying she likes me?” Her voice is small, because she can’t bring herself to believe that could be true. Alaska is statuesque, professional, adorable, and most of all, too good for her.

“I can’t believe you had no idea! She’s been pining after you since forever.”

Katya pauses, the anxiety and rage that have left her body being replaced with guilt. “Shit. I really fucked up, didn’t I?”

—————

Alaska is at home alone, curled up on the couch, watching the Valentine’s Day episode of the Golden Girls as she does every year. Alyssa had protested against her being alone tonight, but she doesn’t have the energy to be around anyone else after everything that’s happened today. She’s turned off her phone so she doesn’t receive Willam and Courtney’s concerned texts; she can’t handle their pity right now.

“Blanche, you’re right. Love is love period. Some things never change.”

The voice on the TV speaks, but it doesn’t comfort Alaska the way it usually does. The three women in this episode may have been abandoned by their dates, but Alaska has seen it enough times to know that their respective boyfriends all show up at the end and they have a wonderful night. That’s certainly not the case for her, tonight.

Why is she such an idiot? If she likes Katya so much, how could she have not known she hated Valentine’s Day? She’s upset the one person she’s liked in a long time, and now Katya hates her.

Maybe she’s overreacting, but she hasn’t felt this shitty since her last ex had posted the intimate details of their relationship online in a fit of rage. It had been enough for Alaska to quit her job and move to RuCorp to ensure her reputation as a professional wasn’t tarnished. It hadn’t been incriminating information, really, but she’d been working in a field where her clients and boss needed to see her as perfect, and the shame of having people know such personal information had been overwhelming. Luckily, the post had been deleted, and Alaska ended up enjoying working at her new job with Will and Court much more anyways.

She dreads going back and having to work with Katya, though. She hopes it doesn’t mean she’ll have to move again, because she loves the people she works with like Alyssa and Adore, and her boss seems to like her. Can one stupid misunderstanding wreck that for her? She hopes not.

Her doorbell rings, and she honestly groans in disbelief. If it’s Courtney coming to make sure she hasn’t moped herself into a puddle of despair, she won’t be able to handle it. She drags herself up off the couch, still wrapped in a blanket, to painstakingly go open the door.

It isn’t Courtney.

“Uh… Hey.” Katya looks bashful, ashamed even, and Alaska is so confused that she drops her blanket at her feet and her mouth falls open in shock.

“Katya?” She says tentatively. She’s literally wearing an oversized t-shirt and shorts, and no bra. Her face is makeup free, probably streaked with tears, and her hair is matted against her head. In other words she’s really not expecting company.

“I was really shitty to you today, and I don’t expect you to forgive me, but would you like to go out to dinner with me?”

Alaska glances at the clock, it’s 11:30 at night, hardly dinner time, but Katya doesn’t look like she’s pulling her leg.

“Are you for real?” She asks the woman standing outside.

“Yeah.” She doesn’t sound like she’s lying, she actually wants to go out with Alaska?

“Um.. I’m not really dressed.”

“You can go get dressed if you want, I mean, I think you look great but if it’ll make you feel better, you can.” Katya rambles and Alaska almost snorts with laughter because she looks far from great, especially compared to Katya, whose makeup and hair is perfect, even if the outfit she’s wearing is questionable.

“Ok… yeah, you can come in, I’ll go get dressed.”

She invites Katya in, and the woman takes a seat on the couch. Alaska runs to her bedroom, unable to process what’s happening in her brain.

Katya Zamolodchikova wants to go for dinner? With her? After what happened today? Alaska doesn’t want to jinx herself, so she just gets ready and tries not to overthink it.

She pulls a brush through her hair, washes her face, and only really puts on some lipstick and mascara. She doesn’t want to keep Katya waiting long enough to change her mind. Then, she pulls on a tight pink skirt and top that are hopefully classy enough with the addition of her beige trench coat. It’s not her best look, but it’s better than nothing.

She gets back out to meet Katya, who leads her to her car. They make it downtown in an albeit awkward silence, and then are faced with the issue of every restaurant being full, or closed at this hour on Valentine’s Day. After trying a third place, they’re sitting in the dark car together and Katya speaks.

“Shit, I’m sorry Alaska.”

“It’s ok.”

“I’m obviously really bad at this whole, romance thing. I didn’t even think about reservations, I did this on such a whim.”

“You’re not mad at me anymore?” Alaska figures they’re not in a rush, so they might as well talk about it.

“Courtney talked to me, told me you didn’t know about Trixie dumping me. I overreacted.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t find out from anyone, and I’m sorry for bringing up those negative feelings for you.”

“It’s not your fault, I’m the bitch that yelled at you for trying to do something sweet.”

“I should have just told you how I felt, instead of being a stalker.”

Katya laughs, and it’s so warm and throaty and Alaska falls in love all over again.

“And how do you feel?” She asks once they both stop laughing.

“You really don’t know?”

“I’d like to hear it from you, not from a piece of candy.”

“I think you’re beautiful, and smart, and funny, and I’d really like to kiss you right now.”

Katya doesn’t answer, but instead leans in until their lips meet.

The clock on the dashboard reads 12:45 am and February 15th becomes their Valentine’s Day instead.

They end up going to a 24 hour McDonald’s in their fancy clothes and get apple pies and ice cream. Katya is absurd, weirder than Alaska had known just from working with her, and her sides start to hurt from laughing so much. Eventually, Alaska’s not quite sure how, they end up back at her apartment, drinking champagne she got for Christmas two years ago and kissing on the couch. It’s everything she had dreamed could happen, and it doesn’t seem real that Katya is here, kissing her neck and whispering in her ear. Things start to heat up, and once Alaska’s in just her bra and panties lying beneath Katya, the woman suddenly stands up.

“Just wait, one sec!” Katya says desperately, as if she’s forgotten something vital.

Alaska groans as they lose contact, and her skin gets goosebumps without Katya there to keep her warm.

Katya rifles through her purse for a moment, coming back with something concealed behind her back. She straddles Alaska’s waist once again and tosses down a bunch of rose petals, rather haphazardly, across the couch.

“Romantic.” She whispers in a husky voice, and then she bursts into laughter. The petals are stuck in Alaska’s hair, and she’s even got one in her mouth and she can’t help but shake with laughter either.

“Oh my god, you are such a dork.” She tells Katya, and though the sexual tension dissipates, she pulls the woman in for an affectionate kiss.

They don’t end up doing anything, in the end, but they have all the time in the world for sex. Instead they laugh with each other until they are past the point of exhaustion and Alaska has to practically carry Katya into her bed.

When Alaska wakes up the next morning, Katya’s body is no longer next to hers (she’s just gone to the bathroom) but she finds a pink candy heart that says, “What Next?” on her pillow.

[electricgalactic1]

Hey

Hey, it’s been, awhile. I didn’t mean for it to be so long but here we are. In the time I’ve been gone a lot has happened, one of those things is that I realized that I can give more detail than I have in the past since it’s very unlikely that my family will ever find this since they hate tumblr and I know this is never going to blow up. So that being said, this post is going to be an introduction and a somewhat detailed update on what’s going on.

My name is Sara-Aaron, it’s not currently my legal name but I hope to change that once I have to time and money. I live in Colorado and hate it, mainly because of all the bad memories. I’m 18 as of posting this, my birthday is January 13th. I’m in an abusive household that I can’t currently leave, it’s somewhat like Cinderella but without the prince on a white horse and my family claims that we’re biologically related, but I have major doubts. I also have a few major medical problems and a handful of minor ones. I started this blog as a way to vent my problems and maybe meet some new people that I could be open with, as I didn’t have a therapist at the time. 

The update part: Since I last posted on here a lot has happened and this is going to be long even with me not going into a lot of detail and leaving more minor things out, so please stick with me. I don’t remember the date I last posted and I’m not going to check since I’m on a bit of a time limit right now, so I’ll just start with major life changes. In about January-February time the pain in my back from about a year ago now, started to come back, I ignored until late February since I hoped it would go away on it’s own like last time, but it didn’t and got far worse instead. So skipping a bunch of tests, mental breakdowns, and doctor visits, I’m now on a generic form of Cymbalta and have Fibro diagnosis. And since said medication also helps with depression and anxiety, those are better as well. I’m still waiting on some blood work for some hormone stuff since I have a bad case too much god damn body hair for an 18 year old girl.

I’ve also finally after years of begging, now have a therapist. She is absolutely wonderful and is helping me figure out solutions to my problem of not being able to leave. Part of my mental health being better is that I’ve discovered that I don’t know how to handle good emotions. For example my best friend sent me a necklace in the mail and I got overwhelmed with how happy I was (and still kinda am a week later), I started to cry since I’m not used to people getting me things without an angle. (She’s also the only one in my life to respect me on wanting to change my name, she’s the best I swear.)

Good news, yesterday I got all the paperwork done to get an ID, it should be hear within 30 days. Once I get that I can open a bank account, so I can get a PayPal account, so I can make some money. Once all that is setup, I plan to take art commissions and I stream on Twitch sometimes so I hope one day to make some money from that. So, I can start saving money to get out, I’ve been thinking about that van life a lot recently. Granted I still will need to spend some of it since my family will want rent and I need to get somethings, like clothes. I’ll do my best to save up and sneakily buy things that I’ll need to move. Please note that my PFP was drawn 2 to 3 years ago and my art is better now, not perfect but better.

Since I’ve been feeling better, I’ve been able to deep clean the kitchen and get it to a point where my family doesn’t complain about it as much, although they wrecked last night and they’ve moved on to complaining about the bathroom, there’s no winning with these people I swear. I’m now deep cleaning MY bedroom if they like it or not. Feels good.

I still don’t plan on being on here a lot so if for whatever reason you want to contact me, just comment or DM, and I’ll give you my Discord or whatever account works for you, provided I have it.

Oh yeah, on a slightly funny note, I now have Tinder, I go by Sara Aaron on that too. Heh.