#had i had a lot more wine that might have been me. but alas

[gremlin-girly]

Kinktober Day 18

Title: Cheat Day

Pairing: Personal Trainer! Bucky x Curvy!female reader

Tags/warnings: SMUT, semi-public sex, shower sex (slippery), self-consciousness, mentions of cellulite/stretch marks, a smidge of fluff bc I can't resist, vaginal fingering, unprotected p in v (wrap it!!), pet names (doll, baby), praise

Summary: You are a newbie to a gym and one of the regulars takes a liking to you and offers to help you on your gym journey. However, you notice that he's a lot more hands on than other trainers at the gym

Word count: 2.9k

A/N: maybe it should more aptly be gym buddy Bucky but alas... I had plans - I promise!! I might have to get my big fics out tomorrow rip me

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Warm Up

You hate, hate, hate HATE working out.

You hate the gym. You hate the way you look like a lost puppy and don't know which machine to use. You hate that you get so out of breath on a tread mill. You hate how your arms wobble when you lift weights.

And you hate that damn Stairmaster.

The only thing you love is perhaps how your deliciously thick thighs can support the heavy weights on the legs press like it's nothing. That would probably be it.

You take one of the last treadmills available, setting your bottle and towel down before fiddling with your earbuds. You're not really paying attention to the guy next to you; you're too focused on trying to get through your warm up.

You start at a walk. You're hair swishing as you lift it to your crown to tie with a hairband. The guy beside you picks up his pace and your eyes flicker over to him. And oh God. What a guy. He's tall and muscular, clearly a regular unlike yourself who makes every excuse under the sun to avoid the gym, with a mop of dark hair that's bouncing to his movements. He's barely sweating at a pace that would have you panting.

You don't realise you've been staring until he smiles at you, sticking his tongue out playfully, before going back to running.

You are red faced and almost trip over your feet. You need to focus. You turn your music up and eventually break into a light jog. After thirty minutes your gym buddy wipes down the machine and disappears to another section of the gym, flashing you a smirk and a wave has you watch him go.

His T-shirt has the logo of the gym of its back and for a split second you're wondering if you should book a session, before scolding your horny brain.

Workout. Focus on working out.

Arms

The next time you come to the gym, it's dark out. You'd spent the day in work and although you just wanted to go home and eat dinner, maybe have a glass (or three) of wine, you had made a promise to yourself to go and now you were here.

It was so much more peaceful at night. The blaring music was off and there was hardly anyone about. Suddenly, you loved your idea of coming here. You had little reason to be self-conscious with so few people around.

Today was arms and you were busy trying to hype yourself up using the bench press. Arms were the worst, just after cardio and you dreaded having to do this. Suddenly the thought of three glasses of wine didn't seem so bad.

Adjusting the weights either side of the bar, you slip under it, getting comfortable against the hard leather seat. You reach up and grasp the bar, straightening your arms and pushing the bar out of it's rest. Your arms wobble slightly, your arms bracing against the weight and you hadn't even managed one rep. Perhaps you'd done the weight wrong.

"Whoa doll!" A voice calls out and you strain your neck trying to look for the approaching footsteps. It's the guy from the other day. "You're gonna hurt yourself doing it like that."

"I - Uh-" you grip the handles, unsure if he wants you to let go or not, but you're palms are starting to sweat. "Okay."

He grins down at you, placing large, rough hands over yours and gently lifting the handles back to stationery position.

"Thanks." You sigh, rubbing your sweaty palms on your workout leggings. You glance up at him again, only to find you're eye level with his crotch and go beet red.

Bad thoughts. Bad thoughts.

The guy doesn't seem to notice. "I'm Bucky. I'm one of the trainers here."

"Y/N." You try and offer a smile but you're too focused on not thinking that his crotch his just right there.

"I've seen you round here once or twice before, um..." Bucky rakes a hand through his long hair. "You're new right? Have you thought about getting a personal trainer?"

You recalled almost tripping in front of him a week or so ago and flush red. Was it that obvious you weren't a regular? Unhelpful, mean thoughts fluttered through your head and you fought to push them away.

"That obvious, huh?" You smile sheepishly, finally sitting up on the bench.

"Very obvious." Bucky nods, still smiling at you. "You hadn't put the locks on the plates, they could have slipped and injured that pretty face."

Your eyes widen; you hadn't noticed the locks and were grateful Bucky was there to save you from injury... even if he was being a flirt about it.

Even if it made your heart flutter.

"Well, thankfully I have a hero to step in." You tell him playfully. "And about the personal trainer... to be quite honest, I don't think I could afford one right now."

You give him an apologetic shrug but he only smirks in response. "Good thing I'll help you for free. Consider it a free trial."

You eyebrows shoot up. Having someone around to motivate you and show you the ropes would be ideal, and especially if it was someone as handsome as Bucky, it may motivate you to come to the gym more often.

"Only if you're sure." You say cautiously, eyeing him. "I don't want you to lose out on work because you're helping me."

Bucky shrugs. "Hey, helping you is more important. I can just text you what days and times I'll be at the gym - if you're here the same time, then we can do some sets together."

You can't say no to that. His eyes brighten when you agree and exchange numbers before he runs you through how to correctly use the bench press, encouraging you and praising you even though you're red faced and drenched in sweat by the end of your set. But you feel fantastic.

If this was how your sessions with Bucky would be, maybe you'd have to consider saving up for more sessions.

Legs

Whichever the Bucky you saw the night he convinced you to take some sessions with him, didn't exist after that night.

The next few sessions with Bucky he'd been nothing but a hard ass, making your brows furrow with displeasure each time he taunted you. It spurred you to complete reps sure, but that wasn't the point. Quite frankly, you missed him being a little bit nicer and you missed the praise that came with it.

"It's false advertising," You huff mid-squat, shooting Bucky a glare. The more time you'd spent with him, the more confident you'd become at back talking him (even though you'd still complete all your reps). "If I'd have known you were going to be a drill sergeant, I wouldn't have agreed to this."

Bucky chuckles, eyeing your form as he stands with his big arms folded, sipping his water bottle. "And yet you finish every rep like a good little soldier." He teases back.

You scoff in response but your cheeks still grow warm. "Whatever."

After squats it was the leg curl machine. You're on your front, your quads under the foam cushions of the machines trying to push the bar against the curve of your ass but it's too heavy. Bucky is stood, as always, with folded arms watching you intently.

"Bucky, it's too heavy." You huff, letting your legs relax. "I need to put the weight down."

"No, you're doing it wrong." He chuckles. "May I?" He approaches, hands splayed.

You shrug, looking over at him with your chin in your palms. "Be my guest."

You still jump when you feel his strong hands on your thighs, moving them slightly wider. Your heart leaps into your throat and you could swear his fingers linger. His fingers are hot even through your gym wear and you're suddenly bashful when your head is filled with thoughts of another type of exercise you could be doing with Bucky. Again.

His hands trail to your knees slowly, bending them a little more before giving your calves a playful squeeze.

"Try now." He says quietly and you obey. The curl is a lot easier now, and the bar smacks your ass making it wobble.

"Oh, wow, OK." You chuckle bashfully. "Yeah OK you were right."

You catch Bucky smirking triumphantly but his eyes aren't on you; they're shamelessly glued to your legs and ass, watching you perform your reps.

Heat pools to your core and you quickly glance away. You have to be imagining it.

You have to.

Cardio

It had been about two weeks since you last saw Bucky and since you last visited the gym. You'd had a cold and then were so busy at work you couldn't find the time to drop by. You'd dropped Bucky a text to say you'd be out of commission but never explained why - and he'd not asked.

Sighing, you dumped your towel and water bottle next to the treadmill and began to walk. You'd come to the gym tonight for an escape. You hadn't wanted to text Bucky just in case he'd already be asleep but you itched to reach out.

The gym was a ghost town. Only the whirr of your treadmill echoed around the open space. You tried not to think about how you wished you'd bumped into Bucky or remember how he'd looked at you.

Maybe he's like that with all newbies...

That thought made your chest twist uncomfortably. You picked up your earbuds and shoved them in your ears, picking up your pace to a light jog.

So much for easing yourself back into it.

After an hour, you decide to call it quits.

It's 11pm and you just want to be back in your bed, hidden under the covers, away from the world.

You're on your way to the showers when you bump into a familiar face emerging from the men's changing room.

"Y/N?" Bucky

"Hey." You pause as he approaches, taking in the sight of his large biceps under the rolled up sleeves of his tee. "How've you been?

"Good. Long time no see. I thought I lost you."

You can't help yourself from smiling. "Oh no, can't keep me away from this place." You say sarcastically, making Bucky grin over at you.

"Really? Even miss me?" He teases softly.

"I don't miss you being a hard ass, if that's what you mean." You quip and Bucky scoffs. "But I have missed you."

Both of your gazes meet and the tension you'd been feeling over the last few weeks increases a hundred fold.

"So..." Bucky says slowly, barely breathing as he looks at you, not knowing which path to tread. "What are we doing tonight?"

"I've just finished," you say a little disheartened. "I was about to hit the shower."

"Can I join you?"

You both stare at one another. Bucky’s brain was expecting you to say your plan for your next set... not that you were going to shower. Mortified, redness bolts to his cheeks as he attempts to back track.

"I - I mean," he shutters and then coughs awkwardly. Your face is equally red but your eyes glimmer with want. "I thought - Uh- you were going to-"

"Sure," you say thickly.

Bucky's brain short circuits again and you give him that bashful smile that makes his heart stammer.

The women's showers are empty and after two minutes Bucky sneaks in behind you. As soon as the door closes, his strong arms pull you towards him, cupping your face before putting his lips on yours.

"Missed you too," he huffs, pulling his shirt off as you both fumble blindly for a shower booth. Bucky tugs at your gym clothes desperately as he kisses you, urging you to undress.

Your mind swims. He missed you too. He's kissing you senseless and you're sure that given the chance he'd rip your clothes from your body.

You peel away your clothes, pausing only to give Bucky more needy kisses in between layers. Bucky follows suit, discarding his sneakers, shorts and boxers into the pile next to your feet.

You feel a wave of self-consciousness as you take in Bucky's body; all muscle, toned and hard and utter perfection. Your eyes drop to your body; soft, squishable, with silvery zebra stripes running over your hips.

You hear Bucky suck in a short breath and you glance up through your eyelashes, smiling a little nervously. His blue eyes are transfixed on you as he closes the space between you. His fingers twitch as he reaches for you, desperate to feel your skin under his hands, but not knowing where he wants to touch first.

"Perfect," he murmurs, his hands ghosting over your hips, drawing you flush against him. His hands tighten their grip on your hips and you you gasp softly, feeling the hard heat of his cock brush against your thighs. One hand cups your face again, and Bucky’s head dips to kiss you slowly. His tongue brushes against your bottom lip and you open your mouth wider, letting Bucky kiss you with far more passion and severance than you'd anticipated.

You're lost in the kiss for what seems like an age; your fingers running through his hair as his hands explore your body, tracing each and every curve, groping at your breasts, hips and ass. You moan into his mouth, mimicking his actions, running your hands over his pecks and down his abs to his cock against your thigh. Bucky pants a curse as you pump him a few times, nipping along his jaw.

"Bucky," You whisper. "The shower."

"Right," he huffs. He pulls the shower door open and gestures for you to step inside first, following closely behind and pressing the on switch.

You gasp when cold water hits your back and Bucky chuckles, arms encircling your waist and moving in to latch onto your neck under the spray of now luke-warm water. Your arms attach themselves around his neck, half-hoisted as you spread your legs to allow Bucky to slot between them. You bite back a loud gasp when Bucky's hand slides between your legs, running along your slit finding your sweet bundle of nerves and drawing quick, tight circles.

"Bucky," you whimper into his neck, your your breathing hitching and hitching like the tightness in your core; rushing upward so fast you feel lightheaded.

"Cum for me doll, be a good girl and cum for me," Bucky sucks at your neck, groping at your tits with his free hand. You lean your head against the shower wall as you feel pussy clenches around nothing. Your fingers grip at Bucky's wet hair, gasping his name as you hang at the precipice of your orgasm. Without warning, Bucky plunges two fingers into your sopping hole, curling them inside you. Your orgasm crashes over you and you cum over his fingers with a wracked half sob.

Bucky's fingers are withdrawn as quickly as they're inserted, leaving you hollow and looking at Bucky pleadingly. He grins at you pecking your lips with a hasty kiss.

"'M sorry, doll. I promise to take my time next time but I need you so bad."

He lifts you with ease, pushing your back against the cool wall, wrapping his arms under your thighs and spreading them open. Wisps of steam rise from behind him as your eyes lock, his cock brushing against your slick folds only once before he slowly lowers you down onto him.

"Oh - oh - oh!" You moan as he breaches inch by inch, each time your walls contract around him, adjusting to his size. Your nails dig into his shoulders, your thighs shake with pleasure and you're utterly at his mercy as he starts to fuck up into you.

"That's it, baby." Bucky praises, littering your face with kisses. "You feel amazing on my cock."

You moan his name and kiss his lips hungrily, pulling yourself closer to him as he brings you to ruin again. Your pussy's grip is like a vice, milking him as you press yourself flush against him glassy eyes meeting his and Bucky can't take it any longer.

Bucky pants curses rutting into you before pulling out entirely and cumming over your stomach and thighs with a short groan. His cock continues to twitch, his cum slowly being washed away by the water save for the white, thick line that connects to your thigh. Bucky slowly lowers you to your feet and you lean against him for support, relaxing in the post-orgasm bliss and the heat of the water.

"I've wanted to do that since the moment I laid on you," he confesses, tilting your head up to capture your lips in a sweet kiss.

"So have I," You admit with a soft chuckle. "Kinda wish we could have done that instead of you making me do squats."

"But you're ass looked good." Bucky teases, chuckling when you glare at him.

"So you were checking me out!" You smack at his bicep playfully and that earns you one of his boyish smiles.

"So? Besides, more importantly," His hands grasp your hips tightly, forcing you to be still. "Today's a cheat day and I wanna take you out."

"Take me out? At 11pm? What's even open?" You smile up at him and he only shrugs.

"Okay, fine, twist my arm. Breakfast it is." He kisses you again, this time lingering a moment before smirking deviously at you. "But first let's get you cleaned up."

[carcarrot]

completely forgot abt the very audible sound of a glass breaking at the very beginning of so may we start at the hollywood bowl

[gogglemouse]

"Maud Muller"

"Maud Muller, on a summer’s day, Raked the meadow sweet with hay.

Beneath her torn hat glowed the wealth Of simple beauty and rustic health.

Singing, she wrought, and her merry glee The mock-bird echoed from his tree.

But when she glanced to the far-off town, White from its hill-slope looking down,

The sweet song died, and a vague unrest And a nameless longing filled her breast,—

A wish that she hardly dared to own, For something better than she had known.

The Judge rode slowly down the lane, Smoothing his horse’s chestnut mane.

He drew his bridle in the shade Of the apple-trees to greet the maid,

And ask a draught from the spring that flowed Through the meadow across the road.

She stooped where the cool spring bubbled up, And filled for him her small tin cup,

And blushed as she gave it, looking down On her feet so bare, and her tattered gown.

“Thanks!” said the Judge; “a sweeter draught From a fairer hand was never quaffed.”

He spoke of the grass and flowers and trees, Of the singing birds and the humming bees;

Then talked of the haying, and wondered whether The cloud in the west would bring foul weather.

And Maud forgot her brier-torn gown And her graceful ankles bare and brown;

And listened, while a pleased surprise Looked from her long-lashed hazel eyes.

At last, like one who for delay Seeks a vain excuse, he rode away.

Maud Muller looked and sighed: “Ah me! That I the Judge’s bride might be!

“He would dress me up in silks so fine, And praise and toast me at his wine.

“My father should wear a broadcloth coat; My brother should sail a painted boat.

“I’d dress my mother so grand and gay, And the baby should have a new toy each day.

“And I’d feed the hungry and clothe the poor, And all should bless me who left our door.”

The Judge looked back as he climbed the hill, And saw Maud Muller standing still.

“A form more fair, a face more sweet, Ne’er hath it been my lot to meet.

“And her modest answer and graceful air Show her wise and good as she is fair.

“Would she were mine, and I to-day, Like her, a harvester of hay:

“No doubtful balance of rights and wrongs, Nor weary lawyers with endless tongues,

“But low of cattle and song of birds, And health and quiet and loving words.”

But he thought of his sisters proud and cold, And his mother vain of her rank and gold.

So, closing his heart, the Judge rode on, And Maud was left in the field alone.

But the lawyers smiled that afternoon, When he hummed in court an old love-tune;

And the young girl mused beside the well, Till the rain on the unraked clover fell.

He wedded a wife of richest dower, Who lived for fashion, as he for power.

Yet oft, in his marble hearth’s bright glow, He watched a picture come and go;

And sweet Maud Muller’s hazel eyes Looked out in their innocent surprise.

Oft, when the wine in his glass was red, He longed for the wayside well instead;

And closed his eyes on his garnished rooms To dream of meadows and clover-blooms.

And the proud man sighed, with a secret pain, “Ah, that I were free again!

“Free as when I rode that day, Where the barefoot maiden raked her hay.”

She wedded a man unlearned and poor, And many children played round her door.

But care and sorrow, and childbirth pain, Left their traces on heart and brain.

And oft, when the summer sun shone hot On the new-mown hay in the meadow lot,

And she heard the little spring brook fall Over the roadside, through the wall,

In the shade of the apple-tree again She saw a rider draw his rein.

And, gazing down with timid grace, She felt his pleased eyes read her face.

Sometimes her narrow kitchen walls Stretched away into stately halls;

The weary wheel to a spinet turned, The tallow candle an astral burned,

And for him who sat by the chimney lug, Dozing and grumbling o’er pipe and mug,

A manly form at her side she saw, And joy was duty and love was law.

Then she took up her burden of life again, Saying only, “It might have been.”

Alas for maiden, alas for Judge, For rich repiner and household drudge!

God pity them both! and pity us all, Who vainly the dreams of youth recall.

For of all sad words of tongue or pen, The saddest are these: “It might have been!”

Ah, well! for us all some sweet hope lies Deeply buried from human eyes;

And, in the hereafter, angels may Roll the stone from its grave away!" -John Greenleaf Whittier

[wexpyke]

.

this past year has actually been so crazy, like… it started with me taking a long, proper break from my MA thesis, which turned into me finally admitting i shouldn’t have chosen this degree and i’m incapable of finishing it at this current moment in time. maybe (hopefully) i’ll do it at some point in the future, when i feel better, but we’ll see. i just can’t force myself, because that’s only ever had a negative impact.

i’ve also had to come to terms with how much of an impact the crippling loneliness i experienced for the vast majority of 2020, 2021, and 2022 has had on me. i’m not really in a place yet where i can fix it, which is incredibly frustrating because i so badly want to fix it. it still affects me to this day and no one in my environment seems to truly understand it.

tried to get back into my old hobbies, like reading, writing, and messing around in photoshop. mostly succeeded, for about half the year.

in june i lost my dog whom i love(d) more than i can describe. we only had him for a year, but he was my fucking rock. he was the reason i got out of bed in the morning, the reason i managed to drag my ass outside and go for a proper walk in the woods & by the seaside, and the reason i smiled every day. i still miss him so much.

i attended my sister’s wedding, went on a disastrous holiday with my bf, and we chose to adopt a new dog. taking care of him has been a lot. “i love you, but god, at what cost?!” has been my main feeling towards him for the past few months. i’ve had moments where i want to pull my hair out in frustration because of him, but i also love him so much. it’s been confusing.

for the past few months i’ve been half-assing (if not quarter-assing) finding a job, because there’s nothing in our kind of rural, small town i think i’d actually enjoy, and because of my mental health, i know i need to find something i’ll enjoy or i might ***.

had the worst birthday in recent memory. just, god. wish i could forget.

visited dublin with my bf. spent some time with his family. worried about ronan (our puppy) a lot.

oh! had a fucking breast cancer scare. and a terrible experience with the health care system here, again! had one in may too. so that’s great! that’s definitely making me want to reach out to them to try to see if i can get a referral for therapy!

just a week or two ago i got into the biggest fight i’ve ever been in with my sister, which ruined the family holiday and almost could’ve ended our relationship altogether. we talked it out after a few days and we’re all good now, but it was an insanely stressful week that was so incredibly emotionally draining. cannot emphasise enough how tired i still am from it all.

christmas was weird because of it. had some good food and wine, though, and got some nice presents.

finished my theon fic exchange fic, somehow. i hadn’t written anything since my dog died, because i fully lost all of my motivation to write and my enjoyment in writing. i enjoyed writing it. hopefully i’ll be able to get back into writing again.

read 13 books this year. my goal was 15. i really want to get back into reading, but alas. started the wheel of time series, though, so maybe that will help. reading all of those would already almost complete my goal for next year, lol.

i hope next year will be kinder. i really need it to be. i know i’ll try my best to be kinder; to myself and to others.

[whentranslatorscry]

Miss Kyouko’s Locked-Room Lecture (5/7)

5

The upscale bar commanded upscale prices.

His subordinate’s assumption turned out to be quite inconveniently costly. Not only had the bill from the Italian restaurant they had recently departed almost caused his eyes to pop out of their sockets, but this bar, despite being only a bar, appeared to be more expensive than a full-blown dinner.

Probably wouldn't be on the budget.

Which meant he would have to pay a hell of a lot of his own pocket. It felt entirely more unsuitable a place than he previously thought, but he was past caring at this point.

Despite Kyouko-san’s Nashorn branded outfit also not quite syncing with the posh ambiance here, she didn’t seem bothered in the slightest.

“Oh, what a cute little bar!”

She was as giddy as a normal girl.

This detective, cute and charming as she was, could just as well be a devil in disguise. Tooasa had his doubts, having seen one too many colleagues get ahead thanks to her, though he tried not to show it. He couldn’t help viewing them with a slightly contemptuous, grudging eye. However, he may have to reconsider such shallow thinking.

Thinking about the expense they must have incurred entertaining her, he almost felt sorry for them. Though here and now Officer Tooasa found himself in the same boat.

On the way here he had wracked his brains trying to gain some insight of his own, but nothing came to him. It was becoming apparent that he and Kyouko-san operated on completely different wavelengths.

Her hints were no help at all.

Maybe not at all— The hint about the eyewitnesses all being shoppers did suggest that none of the shop staff saw the victim come in. Clearly odd.

It's not impossible but you’d expect shop attendants to notice customers rather than fellow shoppers. They’d greet them as they entered, offer assistance with fashion choices— as it’s a clothes shop.

The staff may have avoided or ignored the ‘troublesome customer’ Yanei Sashiko altogether. But still they must have noticed her presence in the first place. To actively ignore somebody, you must see them first.

None of the attendants spotted a regular and in some ways a memorable customer— why was this?— a big question mark.

What exactly this question mark meant, however, Officer Tooasa simply could not figure out.

As for hints number two and three, he was all but stumped. About the only conclusion he could draw was that fitting rooms in young women’s boutiques harbor mechanisms yet unknown to middle-aged men.

In fact, there were a plethora of unfamiliar terms until Kyouko-san had translated for him— the presence of a mysterious paper intended to prevent makeup stains on the garments, for instance. Had he not been assigned to this case he might have lived his entire life without knowing.

“I concede. My hands are up. I'm just a cop sidekicking for you, so I implore you, Kyouko-san, let us all learn from the wisdom of a master detective.”

Perhaps intoxicated by the steep cost of the alcohol, finally Officer Tooasa gave such a humiliating declaration of surrender.

“My, oh my,”

Kyouko-san said with an expression of shock.

“Try and hold on a little longer, would you? I enjoy it most when I’m sipping fine wine while watching men struggle.”

A little devil she was.

“What a conundrum. You invite me for a meal, ply me with drinks, and officer, how I long to lend you a hand. Alas, I cannot work without compensation… Oh why, why didn't I charge you? Never have I felt such remorse for not taking money. Just imagine how amazing it would be if I had gotten paid! I yearn to aid the police so badly, yet here I remain, unfulfilled.”

“Fine, I’ll pay. Please, allow me to officially compensate you with an additional commission fee on top of the original. Consider it a personal commission from me.”

Prompted by the urging of the fastest detective, he finally gave in— making him suspect the chief had orchestrated this turn of events all along.

Regardless, he could only go along with it now.

The policeman’s rivalry with the detective should never overshadow the urgency of preventing a murderer from escaping justice. A locked room murder was no form of entertainment.

Buying her food and drinks and now even paying her a fee— it was going to cost him an arm and a leg from the look of it. But anyhow, he decided it best to personally handle this as his final stand.

Strangely enough, despite having officially engaged her services and even promised to pay extra beyond the interpretation fee, Kyouko-san displayed only a faint reaction.

With the bar's atmosphere it wasn't surprising that she wasn't jumping for joy, but she appeared somewhat troubled upon his request.

“Mmmmm…”

She even shut her eyes as if deep in thought.

Could it be a misunderstanding on his part? Did she not expect to be asked for her services? Were her statements of anticipation for his deductions genuine?

By the time late regret had seeped in and he felt he should have asked in more formal manner, Kyouko-san, as if reading his concerns, waved a hand dismissively,

“Oh no, you’ve misunderstood,”

She said.

“My deductions are nothing more than brief flashes of insight. It just so happens that, in this particular case, my mind’s light bulb flickered on a nanosecond before yours did. I genuinely appreciate your trust and respect in seeking my assistance, and it truly brings me joy to contribute to the police force in solving mysteries. However, there’s a certain degree of trepidation, a nagging hesitation, when it comes to unveiling my reasoning. It pertains to personal… considerations. But it can’t be helped, sadly. We cannot leave a killer at large now, can we?”

This is part of the job, said Kyouko-san.

Not explicitly, but her words conveyed to Officer Tooasa that she understood his intentions, which gratified him. What concerned him, however, were the “personal considerations” mentioned.

What could possibly be the reason that would make this detective hesitate to reveal her reasoning? The immediate thought that crossed his mind was the possibility of an acquaintance of hers being a suspect. With the forgetful detective though, the concept of “acquaintance” didn’t seem to apply.

For even if she became acquainted with someone today, she would forget them tomorrow.

Even if among today's eyewitnesses, someone had a past connection with Kyouko-san, she would have already forgotten that person. There shouldn't be any reason for her to hesitate pointing out the culprit. But if not that, then what other “personal considerations” had she?

“Right then, if we’ve decided, let’s get to it promptly. It’s getting late, we’ve had some drinks, and I’m feeling a bit drowsy, so best I begin solving this mystery while the deductions are still fresh in my mind.”

Okitegami Kyouko, now in detective mode, with a dramatic, serious look— or not, she had the same relaxed air as before as she got down to business.

“First things first, the locked room.”

6

“First things first, the locked room. Let us classify what sort of locked room we have here. Officer, being an avid reader of detective fiction, I’m sure you’re familiar with the various types of them. But for the time being consider this my interpretation— bear with me.”

And with these words, Kyouko-san rolled up her sleeves once again, again apparently planning to use her arm as a whiteboard. She took the ballpoint pen that Officer Tooasa held out in silence and began jotting down her 'hints'— much like an actual lecture.

“The most likely, or perhaps most popular, type of locked room is of Definition (i): a ‘Locked Room Concealing Murder’. Trap the body where nobody can access it and the crime may escape discovery— you're safe. A variant is when a body is hidden in a locked room as far from sight and reach as possible by someone desperate to escape confronting the grim reality of what they’ve done.”

No objection there.

Or rather, Officer Tooasa thought at first this was such a case—Although.

“Yes. I would think a fitting room doesn’t serve much for coverup. You can hide it, say a couple hours at most— not exactly designed to conceal.”

Kyouko-san wrote in fine print on her wrist: (i), and drew a double strikethrough on the words— and under it, (ii).

“Definition (ii): ‘Coincidental Locked Room.’ It's cases where the crime scene appears like a locked room due to a combination of factors of chance, not the perpetrator's intention.”

A force of habit without any planning involved?

Happening to be a locked room, the odds seemed low, but when viewed as the second-most popular option in reality— Well in reality, not in detective novels, criminals with the luxury of deliberately creating locked rooms are but few.

The discussion thus far suggested this Definition (ii) was the most appropriate for this case…

“Yes. In this case however, it does feel excessively convenient to be by accident. For now I suggest we set it aside and move on.”

Kyouko-san wrote a (iii) below ‘Coincidental Locked Room'— Judging by the space left, there would be five or six definitions total.

“Definition (iii): a locked room designed to simulate suicide. In the otherworldly realm of detective fiction, I’d venture to say this is the most common type of locked room.”

“Yes, it is. The exclusion of other options makes it impossibly to think of anything other than suicide…There’s no shortage of such locked rooms in mystery.”

Rather than that, it could be one of the ways in which the keyword “locked room” survives there. The inevitability of a secret room or such arises in its own way…and even the most outlandish locked room acquires a certain persuasiveness.

���But Kyouko-san, regardless of whether there’s a criminal out there willing to go to such lengths, here it doesn’t seem to apply. It’s hard to believe the culprit tried to make Yanei-san’s death look like suicide.”

“Agreed. …Incidentally, as a variation of this Definition (iii), you could also consider a locked room where the victim genuinely committed suicide. Mystery fans tend to look at cases from a skewed angle, but in normal terms, if someome appears to have died by suicide inside a locked room, usually that’s what it is.”

As she spoke, Kyouko-san crossed out Definition (iii) as well. Though it was none of Officer Tooasa’s business, didn’t she ever consider that her skin also needed care?

“Definition (iv): ‘Locked room in the name of a locked room.’”

“What? What’s that mean?… Something philosophical?”

“It’s far removed from philosophy, rather a whimsical criminal act of fabricating a locked room just for the fun of it. Without real necessity or clear reason behind it, only the conception of a locked room trick that they then put into action. You could even call this the result of reading too many detective novels.”

We should be cautious ourselves, said Kyouko-san— Hard to tell how serious she was being, but it was hard for the officer who had enlisted precisely due to an excessive habit of reading detective novels to write off the existence of such a person.

Just earlier, he had thought, ‘that can’t be’ of a culprit who goes out of his way to create a locked room— a portrait of a criminal obsessively convinced that he must conceive a locked room when committing murder. Alternatively, the culprit could just be lumping ‘creating a locked room’ in with ‘wearing gloves to avoid leaving evidence’ or ‘fabricating an alibi,’ deeming it a required step in the crime process.

“Are we… setting this aside as well, Kyouko-san?”

“I think we can rule it out. A fitting room is too flimsy to be a locked room. If it wasn’t for you and I being detective novel readers, we probably wouldn’t have seen it as such at all.”

Indeed, none of Officer Tooasa’s colleagues had that impression of the case. They probably would have told him he was overthinking it.

“Put simply, that means the clues must be about there…that for some reason, the culprit had to make the fitting room into a locked room, specifically.”

“Hmm…”

The story seemed to make sense and not make sense at the same time. In any case, Kyouko-san rejected Definition (iv) as well.

“What about Definition (v)? I sense we’ve reached a minority here, already at the fourth…”

Depicted as a pie chart, assuming the first definition accounted for eighty percent, the second ten percent, the third at most five percent…the fourth would be at most three percent.

Any locked rooms in the remaining two percent or less could be dismissed as aberrations, missing the mark by less than five percent could be casually brushed aside.

“Quite right. Though for mystery enthusiasts like myself, Definition (v) is the most tantalizing of all…”

After making such an ostentatious remark, Kyouko-san added,

“Definition (v): ‘Impossible Crime Locked Room.’ Creating a situation where the crime seems utterly impossible for anybody to commit, making it difficult to even identify suspects, let alone pin down the culprit, and intending for the case itself to become an unsolvable maze… Morality aside, you have to admit there’s a certain criminal genius in designing the perfect locked room mystery.”

“…This is different from Definition (iii), ‘simulating suicide’?”

“Yes, different. Definition (v) vehemently refuses to be interpreted in a realistic manner— because it’s impossible for anybody, it insists that it’s impossible even for itself. There’s a certain urgency to it… Hence, adding an exception to these five definitions, we have Definition (vi): ‘Other Locked Rooms.’”

Officer Tooasa scrutinized the whiteboard— Kyouko-san’s arm— once again. The crossed-out definitions were difficult to decipher but not altogether unintelligible.

Definition (i): ‘Locked Room Concealing Murder’

Definition (ii): ‘Coincidental Locked Room’

Definition (iii): ‘Locked Room Simulating Suicide’

Definition (iv): ‘Locked Room in the Name of Locked Room’

Definition (v): ‘Impossible Crime Locked Room’

Definition (vi): ‘Other Locked Rooms’

…Nothing particularly original or novel in terms of mystery fiction, but comprehensive enough. Arranged in order of realism, it simplifies and sorts the types of locked rooms in a very understandable manner.

But the discussion would only be a lecture on mystery fiction if it ended here— the question is how these definitions apply to the case at hand.

“Barring one, three and four, our locked room must be either two, five or six.”

“I think we can discount number six, ‘other locked rooms’, as that refers to the fantastical or ‘locked rooms from another world’. For better or worse, our case lacks such fanciful surprises.”

What exactly constituted a ‘locked room from another world’? We can only imagine. A room of magic or curses? If so, it wouldn’t even account for 1 percent of the pie chart. However, within the realm of detective fiction, which can be considered fantasy in its own right, such rooms might indeed exist. Though some readers may find it unfair…

“Then it must be either Definition (ii) or Definition (v)?”

“Supposing there were no eyewitnesses, it would be a locked room of Definition (ii)— this theory however does not allow for further investigation. Such a fluke would be all too convenient.”

“But Definition (v) is ‘impossible crime,’ isn’t it? Not just too good to be true; the complete opposite— it's impossible.”

To create a locked room means the murderer deliberately intended to evade the staff, customers, and cameras— sounds impossible enough. Admittedly, nobody could pull this off.

“But what if this is exactly what the murderer wanted us to think. Put another way, to dismiss a meticulously crafted crime as mere 'coincidence’ with a single word could be deeply displeasing for the culprit as well, don’t you think?”

So allow me to present my theory— she said something which, from the culprit's point of view, was very much undesired.

The murderer most likely did not commit the crime whilst contemplating definitions of a locked room. Be that Definition (ii) or Definition (v), the optimal outcome for them was simply that the crime goes undetected.

“Speaking of which, Officer Tooasa, how far have you pondered the three hints I gave you earlier? If there are parts that don’t need an explanation, I can skip those briefly.”

“Oh, err, to be honest, I haven’t quite… at best, I’ve only understood about half of the meaning of hint number one… Basically it implies that it’s odd for the clerks not to have seen a regular customer, right?”

“Yes, that’s correct. Excellent.”

She praised him so yet he couldn’t feel satisfied. He agreed something was odd, but he would be at a total loss if pressed to explain why.

“Don't be so modest. If you go back far enough, you will find that the answer is already there— none of the employees, not a single one, seeing Yanei-san, the regular patron, implies that nobody knew who she was. Those not acquainted with her were the ones who saw her."

Huh?

He was about to object to her leap in logic when she went on,

“That is, no eyewitnesses recognized her. Their accounts only prove that a customer dressed in Nashorn’s fashionable attire was present. It does not confirm that they saw her as herself."

“But— the CCTV footage…”

Caught her— from behind.

Considering she was wearing oversized glasses, CCTV footage alone might not suffice to positively identify her. The police therefore attempted to make a comprehensive judgement based on the collated eyewitness accounts— couldn't this confirm her arrival at the store at about eleven?

“Since eyewitnesses identified her solely based on her clothing and naturally, in a clothes store, people pay attention to what other customers are wearing.”

“You, you’re suggesting… they mistook someone else for her?”

Come to that, it had been suggested before.

Prev | Next

[ladytp]

I was tagged by the lovely @littlefeatherr​, thank you dear! 🥰🥰

 1. Are you named after anyone? Not to my knowledge – unless it was after a very popular and well-known newsreader and journalist around the time I was born… have never asked about it, though.

2. When was the last time you cried? Not counting tears from watching/reading a sad movie/show/ad/book/passage, but crying in ‘real life’…Hmmm, not quite sure, as I don’t cry often. It might have been several years ago when my dog died, or more recently when I have thought about her, or maybe a few years ago when hubby and I had some issues to sort through that made me angry and sad.

3. Do you use sarcasm? Yes I do – and sometimes people recognise it, but unfortunately sometimes they don’t. With hubby I do it a lot and he recognises it for what it is, so that’s all good!

4. What’s the first thing you notice about people? There is nothing specific I pay attention in at first – I guess generally their overall appearance and what they say – the latter being more important than the former.

5. What’s your eye color? “Cerulean” 🤣🤣 Blue, in other words.

6. Scary movie or happy ending? I don’t care much about scary or horror movies, so almost anything is better than them – so from these two choices certainly happy ending.

7. Any special talents? Not really a special talent, but I like to think I’m a pretty good cook. I can also sow, at the level of being able to sow clothes, home textiles and such. The last thing I sew with a sewing machine were fabric linings for two sourdough proving baskets – combining those two things rather well!

8. Where were you born? In a small village in Lapland, Finland.

9. What are your hobbies? Cooking, reading, writing (although I have neglected the last for a long time now, due to increased work responsibilities eating into my spare time…). And oh, cooking!

10. Do you have any pets? Not anymore. I used to have two wonderful Jack Russell terriers but alas, old age had its inevitable consequences… However, now hubby and I do doggy day-care and boarding, so we have one (or two or three) dogs in our place for most of the time – and I love it!!

11. What sports do you play/have played? Jumping over sports pages in the newspaper (when newspapers were still a physical thing). 😉 Several years ago I did gym and jogging for quite a while, but not terribly seriously, just enough to be in shape.

12. How tall are you? About 166 cm (5' 5" in medieval measures)

13. What was your favorite subject in school? Physics and mathematics. There was something fascinating in equations and the logic in all of it. I used to do extra homework just for fun!

14. Dream job? Food critic or some kind of assessor, or a ‘behind the scene’ role in food or wine enterprise – R&D or regulatory or some such, that would still allow me to plenty of free samples and opportunities to partake in food and wine events. What a life that would be!

I’ll tag: @zip001​, @ownsariver​, @sister-winter73​ and anyone who wants to play!

[stclenrelic-a]

@captaincandycane​

It's not very often that Loki goes out. She doesn't generally like going to clubs. Most days she prefers to go to a local bar, order a few glasses of wine and spend the evening having conversation with her friends or her husband. Yet, considering how Loki felt their marriage had been in a little bit of a slump lately, her friend suggested trying something completely new: go out to a club, get shitfaced and party til the break of dawn. She had told Ben about their plans, using her friend's birthday as an excuse as she's not quite willing to tell him what's been on her mind, and told him to not expect her back until morning. A good thing, really, considering the events that followed. Instead of dancing, Loki finds herself stirring a cocktail of some sort. She doesn't even really know what it is, but it tastes fruity and it's helping her get shitfaced. As planned. But it doesn't make her feel like partying. At least not yet. What she does do, however, is complain to her friend about her relationship. "Ben is amazing.. He's perfect. He's a gentleman, he opens doors for me, he kisses my hand a lot, brings home roses... Hell, he asks about my day and actually listens when I talk to him. So why is it that I don't feel like I'm in love anymore? Why is it that I don't get butterflies when I see him? Or feel sad when he's gone.. like I cannot wait for him to come back. I know people say that the infatuation fades after time but---" But she doesn't WANT it to. Loki is a lot of things, including but not limited to: incredibly smart, beautiful, successful, rich and, if she has to believe the people she's slept with, also good in bed. But she also really hates how her life has become so incredibly bland. She craves chaos, passion and she longs to be excited about things again. Do something different. It's not her work, she knows that much at least. Being one of the best lawyers in the country she gets a lot of different interesting cases to dive into. So, the only thing it can be is her love life. Oh, and she didn't even mention the fact that Ben really wants to be a dad, and even the thought of it has Loki feel like she's going to suffocate. She's not even sure if it's because she doesn't want to be a mom, or because she doesn't want to tie herself to Ben that much. Her friend, who is equally drunk, soon points at a handsome stranger near the bar. "I tell you what  ---  you go kiss him, I won't tell Ben, I promise. And maybe that will give you some clarity on what it is you want." Now. Sober Loki would have immediately argued that that is a terrible idea, but drunk Loki thinks it is genius, and also loves the thought of causing a little chaos in her own life. She might regret it in the morning, but that's not a problem for present Loki. With a determined nod, Loki sets her glass down, slides off her wedding ring and hands it to her friend, before she makes her way over to the stranger. Or, Steve, as she learns soon enough. They chat for a while, share a few drinks, dance, and before she knows it... well, it technically still counts as a kiss, Loki just never meant to take it this far. Had her friend been sober, Loki's sure she would have stopped her. Alas, she doesn't. And so, Loki ends up going home with the stranger. They make out for a while and then end up having sex. Mindblowing, amazing sex that is definitely the best sex she has had in her ENTIRE life. As wrong as it may be, and as much as she would feel guilty about it in the morning, this moment... being here in bed with Steve and having such an incredible time.. it's the most alive she's felt in years. The next morning, however, she wakes up before Steve does. Luckily, because that is definitely not a conversation she is ready to be having. Her head is throbbing and she's feeling guilty even more than that, and while staying in the stranger's arms seems very tempting, Loki knows she has to go. She slips out of Steve's hold and out of the bed, quickly taking her underwear and dress back on. She fixes her hair in the mirror and finds her heels near the front door. When she gets home, she's sure Ben knows what she has been up to.. After all, she probably kind of smells like Steve, and she's sure she has a couple of hickeys, but... as mentioned before, Ben is perfect. And he proves that once more by not asking any questions and simply getting her a glass of water and some painkillers.

[libidomechanica]

And far, I am with light; for their veiled—

And at thou by promise had done.     Thine on me, who upon the hies dazzling moors are sooth, let     me! But that beautiful and virgin she beauty was fright     pelissa clamant worketh arms my life is only, the     royall recommended&

along in us into blissful     citation; at which o’er heart I thing great years were people     as palate the said, alas! Tears, and caught unto. I     fell upon the space by hope the sung in that god of Sir     William Curtis in vain,

follow, Sir’ I; and let they in     the child of land. Crooked my footprinted smiling out this     way. Which the hue Hereat shaken who are outstrip for plain     streets at vision time, there, but, sans peril of landed brow     was Hesperean; to hindward

him in that wild young pearl’d were     that is enough the boy am, while I will sheep, never     at needs this, none loot the listening thrum, to sharpe designed the     managed ladie without delay, awake, loue she’s made up of     slave! Thou hadst play with a

city. Disparage had been height     daught is ere I heart, impassion, his brief opprest, O     Arethusa. And shady blestones best cheek—the Lee thought:     had made answer met this sinke; and Cressing the Sacrifice?     I bid far, I am

a marble pillow-work confine,     half-grasp.—Not forlorn: then at Scotland, while counterbalances     asseth. Full he folded ewes, adoring passion for     Blancholy, because fountain’s struck my future you remember—     a most notice and

praised in hand. And far, I am     with light; for their veiled—he shining schwa schwa she shrunken in     spring world let me with undernes peeped and flame, full of     love. Then, more, since, be it sell, and fair attend one hangs of     equal might at twenty-

nine Worthiest pebbly many     a hearts strange ere waste free midnight. While down hazy wrists, die,     but Lady of life’s worn and mild made to our fall scanty     bare; like a spelled many fight beautiful end—he roars, all     they were fill your wine

shadowing! Thousand, and who loved him,     which head unto hides my lay for her itself dost help from     me: and paths and gentle Greek, but aye undimm’d by all my     wrath and see it say a slumber flowering to me, Sir,     you save smiles, and boy, human,

the tall, her deare were art is     this unholy bare hue of want through a long bird; for     Blanchisel hitting had, then I may mate, love thee thee in her     mankind, she warm heart’s beauty lies are thee sure I hateful     and the show’d all her hearts

down, to daunted space his honey     bag from fear? I like my sigh dashed and shunn’d them force and a     Judith, lotting other born for loving men; drink the wait     Thus must all the streake; loue it, did lean’d an ease to graceful     smile; till omens heart will

let the term of they were. Whilst flown:     holy and true, I should she? To these are like mine a voice     of your bountiful downcast eyes were we shot me leapt upon     your pretty rings; till leave the curious tear the sun     hath drunken deepest. Find,

the tease us seen lost, by ever,     and round, thy fight woods, ripe October’s English dangerous     god of half a ground, and the keen a little to me     the branches and strike appears of smoke It was a condition.     The liquid looke, thy

should blood, with a cushion. And now     my chilly of cowardice is in reigning charm of which     power to speake lights are could no lifts to fuddle along,     Cyril? Before open it little and dull and path, rock-     solid banish’d, with deep

wood wilt be sure I have this owne     little broken. Turned mine shall them slight: she cries in a flock     of shade. Will human send a hey, and yours: my name only     tempest, and canst now his hand, and lies who stay that house. While     tongues rest, and shrieks—all

deceives a man and modest Alpheus!     That white shows the rest cool as silently smiles at my     Lucasia, shield a box of beauteous Lillie, he’s mouthey     called with eyes are not mine; and to her heart? Of this like there:     the groan or thy beauteous

into the starting how through we     wonder the had rather side sat does stare like first in the     light, than you hast breaks: I fear, cheats use—but at there she heard     not. I have no more avail the lily-shining from Iceland     Queen, as mine he soul.

But every spray; an’ she beds; there     hearts stand all be crowned in conscious. Adieu; and kiss, is frame,     where is nothing mother comes than vile: my need not meet till     I send furrow with a fair climacteric tender     Is penny-fee, an’ young.

[jessikahathaway]

Baby Talk - Part III

Pairing: Jikook X Reader (Jimin X Reader X Jungkook)

Genre: Surrogacy!AU, Polyamorous!AU, Romance. (Future Smut)

Warnings: Profanity, depictions of a panic attack, mentions of poor dieting (starving oneself), overexertion/exhaustion, I wanna protecc them all but alas, some cute shit ig (if I forgot anything please let me know!)

Words: 7.7k (sorry it's a shorter chapter - the next one will be litty citty titty i hope lol)

You and Jimin had been spending a lot of time together recently. Jungkook was having to do a lot of overtime at the office as of late, leaving you and Jimin to have dinner by yourselves most of the time.

Jimin had been surprised at your cooking skills, making you laugh.

“You forget, I was a woman living on her own for like five years before I met you and Jungkook,” you reminded as you set down the plate on the table.

“Such a domestic goddess,” Jimin teased, looking at the apron on you with a certain kind of fondness.

“You have no idea,” you smirked.

“Come on, sit down I’ll bring out the rest of it,” Jimin said, urging you to take a seat at the table.

Not wanting to fight him on it you sat down in your usual spot. You had a tendency of setting a place for Jungkook, even if you knew he wouldn’t be here, you wanted to make sure if he did miraculously show up, he had a place to sit too.

Jimin brought out the drinks and poured you a glass of water before getting himself a glass of wine. You watched in envy as the burgundy liquid filled the cup. You sighed and took a sip of your water before starting in on your meal.

“Y/N?” Jimin asked, looking up from his plate to gaze at you.

“Hmm?” You said, raising your eyes to look into his.

Your heart damn near stopped looking into his beautiful orbs. Sparkling in the dim light of the dining room. His cheeks were full of food, but he had spoken up regardless. Clearing your throat you looked back down at your plate in embarrassment.

“I have a trip I need to take for work, a conference in China. I shouldn’t be gone too long, but, I just wanted to ask what you thought... Would you like me to stay home?” He asked.

You were slightly shocked that he was asking you what you thought about the situation at all. You didn’t think your opinion mattered that much. Did it?

“Well, I mean, Jungkook and I should be fine. How long are you planning on being gone?” You asked, taking another bite.

“Maybe five days? Might be a little longer,” he explained, shoving more food in his mouth as well.

“I mean, it’s for work, right? So, I don’t see why you shouldn’t go,” you said.

“You’d be alone with Jungkook doing a lot of overtime, I-I don’t want something to happen,” he said, taking a slow sip of wine.

“Well, I mean, I’m not that far along. I can still take care of stuff around here for a few days. Jungkook and I will be fine,” you encouraged.

“Okay, but, if something happens just call me and I’ll come back home. I promise,” Jimin said, placing his hand on yours across the table.

Your heart jumped into your throat at the contact. His palm was so warm. It sent little tingles over your skin, making you jump lightly at the touch. Jimin moved his hand away, going back to eating. Trying to keep your breathing even, you tried to think of anything but the gorgeous man sitting in front of you.

Jimin finished eating before you, heading to the kitchen to start cleaning up. You wiped your mouth when you were done and took the rest of the dishes to the kitchen to help clean up as well.

You two fell into a silent rhythm, working around each other. Cleaning up and packing the food away so that when Jungkook got home he could eat and go to bed. Jimin finished off the rest of his wine and then washed out the glass before putting it away.

Eventually the two of you made it to the living room, just sitting on the couch and digesting. It was getting late and your eyes were dropping, Jimin just smiled. Giving you a little nudge, you looked at him in confusion.

“If you’re sleepy, go to bed,” Jimin said.

“Wanna... Wanna make sure Jungkook eats when he gets home,” you said, eyes closing again.

Jimin’s heart clenched in his chest painfully. You were so caring, so kind. He knew you’d be the perfect mother, that was if you even wanted to do that. Jimin felt a rush of panic go through him.

Would you even want to stay with them and the kids? A polygamous relationship was hard enough, but with two kids? It would be even harder... Jimin tried to swallow his rising fear, panicking right now wouldn’t do him any good.

“Sweetie, you need to go to bed. I’ll stay up and wait for Jungkook,” Jimin said, trying to coax you to bed.

“Nooo,” you whined, head lulling to the side slightly.

“Come on, Y/N, don’t be difficult,” Jimin tutted sarcastically.

“Not being difficult,” you murmured.

“Yeah, right,” Jimin snorted.

Just then, the front door opened. Jungkook came in, heaving his briefcase onto the entryway table, taking off his shoes. Before Jimin could blink, you were up and heading towards the kitchen to prepare him a plate.

Jungkook walked over to his boyfriend, placing a gentle kiss on his lips. Jimin melted into the familiar embrace and soon had his arms wrapped around Jungkook tightly. You walked back from the kitchen with a hot plate of food, to find the two men wrapped up in each other.

You damn near dropped the plate at the sight, you’d seen them kiss before obviously. But this seemed more intimate than those. Like you shouldn’t be looking. But, you couldn’t look away... The way their lips moved together so passionately, it made your heart ache in loneliness. Quickly, trying to keep yourself from getting caught peeping like a creep, you hurried to the dining room.

After you were gone, Jungkook and Jimin pulled away. Jimin brushed Jungkook’s hair out of his face, smiling at him with his perfect teeth.

“Y/N heated you up some dinner we made,” Jimin said, leading his exhausted partner towards the dining room, where you were still getting the silverware out. Although both men noticed a cute little blush on your face.

“What are you still doing up?” Jungkook asked as he sat down, watching as you sat in the chair next to him.

“I have to leave for that trip in a few hours. I already discussed it with you and asked Y/N how she felt about it, so I’ll be keeping my four-thirty flight,” Jimin explained.

“Gotcha,” Jungkook said, turning his attention to you. “But what are you doing up? You need to get some rest.”

“I-uh, know you’ve been working late and coming home late... I was just, wanting to make sure you were eating and everything,” you said, rubbing your neck in embarrassment.

“You’re too sweet, Y/N, honestly. Thank you,” Jungkook smiled, showing his beautiful teeth.

“It’s nothing,” you insisted.

“It means something to me,” Jungkook said softly. You gulped, trying to keep your wild child squealing to a minimum.

“Me too,” Jimin said, coming to place a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. You looked at the comforting gesture and gave the two men a soft smile.

“How much longer are you going to be doing overtime?” You asked, trying to get you out of the topic of conversation.

“Probably another week or two, we’ve been slammed recently,” Jungkook sighed, rubbing his face.

“That’s unfortunate,” you mumbled.

“I hate it, but it needs to be done,” he said, sighing.

“Yeah, I totally understand,” you agreed.

Jungkook dug into the food you and Jimin had prepared with gusto. You gave him another helping, wanting to ensure that he was full before he went to bed. Jungkook ate well, really savoring the food you and Jimin had made. It really touched you that he was so appreciative of the meal.

Faster than you thought possible, he was finished and you were clearing away the plate. Jimin insisted that he do the remaining dishes, since he’d be up. Jungkook went to the bedroom to change out of his clothes before reemerging in his comfy pajamas.

Assuming that he wanted to spend some time with Jimin before he left, you headed towards the bedroom. When Jungkook’s voice spoke up from behind you.

“Hey, Y/N!” He said, stopping you in your tracks. You turned to face him, surprised at how close he actually was.

“Yeah?” You asked, giving a sleepy grin.

“Thanks for waiting up for me, and for helping Jimin with dinner. I really do appreciate it,” he said, giving you a genuine look.

“Jungkook it’s the least I can do,” you said, reaching forward to squeeze his hands gently. He looked down at your combined hands, and then his eyes snapped back up to your face.

“You’re already doing so much for us, I hope you know how much it means,” Jungkook whispered.

“I wouldn’t want to do it for anyone else,” you said. And immediately, you wished you hadn’t. Jungkook’s face looked shocked as he locked eyes with you. You blushed, unable to keep eye contact with the handsome man.

“Y/N, Jimin and I-”

“Kook! Come on, you need to get to bed! Otherwise you’ll be dead on your feet in the morning!”

Jungkook sighed and gave your hands a gentle squeeze before heading off towards Jimin. You stood there, star struck it seemed. You had no idea what you had been thinking when you’d said that. But you couldn’t find any lies in the statement...

Quickly rushing to your room you shut the door, heart beating wildly at the thoughts running through your head. Trying to silence your swirling head, you laid down in bed. Eventually falling asleep to the rhythmic beating of your heart.

—

Jimin had been gone for a few days. And you could feel his absence. There was a certain lack of joy in the house. Jungkook was still staying late at work, making you worry about his sleeping schedule. Seeing as how he was getting to bed so late and having to leave so early.

But you prepared meals and cleaned up, making sure he had something good to eat when he came home. You really didn’t want him to go to bed without eating. He claimed to do it some nights when he was really tired, but you couldn’t allow it to happen. The man needed his strength if he was going to keep pushing these long days like a machine.

You were impressed with Jungkook’s stamina. He’d been doing this overtime thing at work for almost a month now. And you were really surprised he hadn’t crashed.

Although, all good things come to an end, and all batteries burn out.

And sometimes they explode.

You were snoozing on the couch late one night when you heard the front door open. Hurrying to the front door to greet him, you were met with Jungkook on the floor. You gasped and ran to his side, worried about him.

“Jungkook? Hey, what’s going on?” You asked. The man was on his knees, slumped against the door.

“I’m...fine...” he mumbled.

“Jungkook! You are the least thing from ‘fine’ I’ve ever seen! Can you stand?” You asked, reaching over to bring his head off of the door.

“Just... tired,” he said, eyes not opening.

“Jungkook,” you whimpered, brushing the hair from his face in a way that felt too intimate, but you couldn’t help yourself.

“I’m okay,” he whispered. His eyes still weren’t open, scaring you. If it came down to it, you wouldn’t be able to pick him up and take him to the hospital. And you really didn’t want to call an ambulance because it would take them forever to get here at this time of night.

“Can you look at me? Jungkook,” you said, touching his cheek gently.

“Mmm,” he said, eyes fluttering like he was trying to open them for you.

“Look at me,” you almost cried, keeping his head in your hands.

Slowly, his eyes peeled open. They were glassy and tired. You can’t imagine how exhausted he must be. He never complains, always going to work with a grin on his face, but you can see it in his posture when he comes home. He really works himself too hard.

“Hi,” he greeted quietly.

“Oh God don’t scare me like that,” you exclaimed, wrapping him up in your arms tightly.

You didn’t know you could panic like that before. Maybe it was all the hormones running through your body, but you were overwhelmed to the point of tears falling down your cheeks.

“Um, Y/N?” Jungkook’s voice was slightly muffled.

“You scared the ever loving piss out of me you jerk! I thought you were gonna die!” You blabbered on, not really thinking about what you were saying. You were too caught up in your own emotions to realize you were practically shoving Jungkook’s face into your chest.

Although, Jungkook really couldn’t find it in himself to complain. Your body was warm, you smelt like jasmine and bergamot, a body wash he had picked out for you. A lot of smells had been putting you off recently and he picked a more subtle one in hopes that you would like it better. He could hear your heartbeat slowing down as you calmed yourself. It was turning into a soothing lull that had his eyes closing again.

“Honestly, why are you staying so late at work! You can’t keep pushing yourself like this! You’re staying home tomorrow, and I’m going to look after you,” you demanded, a soft pout on your lips.

Jungkook brought his head away from your body to protest, when you placed a delicate hand on his cheek. Every bone in Jungkook’s body lit up at your touch, you’d never put your hands on him this much before... He wanted more, he wanted to feel your skin under his palms...

“But I have to go to work,” he said.

“Please, I know you make a salary, one day away isn’t going to hurt you,” you scoffed.

“But they need me-”

“I need you more, all three of us do,” you said, holding your stomach. Jungkook really hadn’t noticed before. But you were starting to show. You’d mainly been looking bloated for the past few weeks, but now he could really see the distinction. “You need to be healthy. I don’t want Jimin to kick my butt when he comes back.”

“H-How far along are you now?” He asked, completely changing the subject.

“Fourteen weeks, why?” You asked, looking down at your stomach.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered, eyes closing again as he fell into your chest. You startled for a moment, before you realized, he was fast asleep. Laughing to yourself you tried to untangle yourself from the gorgeous man... But, it wouldn’t hurt to sit here for a few more minutes, would it?

—

Jungkook awoke with a start.

Looking around the room he noticed that he was alone. Remembering Jimin was on his trip he yawned, moving to start getting ready for work...

When he looked at the clock.

1:00 pm.

Jungkook almost keeled over. Did he forget to set his alarm last night? To be quite honest, he doesn’t really remember coming home. Or going to bed...

Getting up on shaky feet he wobbled to the living room, to find you, sat on the couch with another book in your hand. You looked completely at ease, smiling softly as you munched on a snack.

“Y/N?” Jungkook called out.

You turned your head and looked at him, giving a sweet grin.

“Well it’s about time, I was wondering when you were going to wake up,” you smirked.

“Why didn’t you wake me up? I need to go to the office,” he said, already moving towards the kitchen when his knees buckled and he collapsed to the floor. You rushed over, getting on your knees as well.

“You don’t need to go anywhere mister. I called the office this morning, you’re taking a long weekend,” you announced.

“How did you even get the number for the office? And what did you tell them?” Jungkook asked.

“I got it from Jimin, I told him what happened last night,” you said, blushing lightly.

Jungkook frowned. What did happen last night?

“Ah, so you don’t remember. Jimin said that might be the case,” you said, smiling.

“What happened?” He asked.

“You came home and collapsed in the front entryway. I thought I’d have to take you to the hospital or something, but Jimin assured me that you just needed some rest. So, that’s what we’re doing.”

Jungkook pouted at the realization that you weren’t going to let him go anywhere. He tried to stand up, but his legs were still so unsteady you wound up having to help him up as much as you could with your smaller frame.

“Sit on the couch, I’ll get you something to eat,” you said, heading off towards the kitchen. Jungkook couldn’t help but notice how maternal you were acting. You really were so incredible to him. He and Jimin had both agreed to wait until they approached you about being with them. But looking at you now, it was hard not to just spill his guts to you. Although, this wasn’t the right time.

You brought him a bowl of noodles, making sure that he had something covering the hot bowl so he didn’t burn his hands. He took the food gingerly, sniffing it before bringing the food to his mouth. You watched him eat, smiling as he scarfed the food down.

He made such an intense face when he was eating, it made you giggle lightly. Jungkook’s face turned to you, big doe eyes looking at you with confusion.

“What’s so funny?” He asked between big mouthfuls of food.

“You look like you’re about to give a dissertation on ramen, so serious,” you said, mirroring the look on his face.

“Food is serious business,” he warned.

You snorted but gave a nod.

“Agreed.”

Jungkook finished the food and you took the bowl, heading to the kitchen to clean it out. You were wearing a simple dress, just blue and white stripes that hung off your shoulders in little frills. But you looked so beautiful to him, he could hardly believe it. Your little bump visible underneath the fabric.

You came back with a glass of water, handing it over to him. He swallowed it down in big gulps, making your anxiety loosen its grip on your chest. You’d hardly slept last night because you were so worried about him.

It was fruitless trying to stay in bed and it was becoming harder to get comfortable, so you decided to make it an early morning and get some housework done so Jungkook could enjoy the long weekend without worrying about silly things like dishes.

Soon Jungkook was finished with his food and you took the bowl and utensils back to the sink to clean them. He watched you with eyes full of wonder, his body felt oddly rejuvenated. Was all he needed some food and a long rest?

Somehow he doubted that was the cause of his sudden transformation. Seeing you in a cute sundress was doing things to his head that he couldn’t quite register. He wasn’t sure if he was jealous of Jimin or sorry that he was missing this sight before him.

You came back out to the living room to see Jungkook fiddling with his phone.

“What are you doing?” You asked, causing the man to jump at the sound of your voice.

“Just texting Jimin,” he answered, setting his phone down.

“Ah, is he doing alright?” You questioned, resting against the back of the couch.

“He’s alright, a little tired. But he’ll be coming home soon,” he said, a soft smile on his face.

A ding echoed throughout the house, making you look down at his phone. But Jungkook snatched it before you could get a glance at the message displaying on the screen. You raised your brow in confusion, before he was answering in rapid fire.

Jimin 💕: You mean to tell me she’s in a sundress and I don’t get to see it??? HOW IS THIS FAIR? I QUIT.

Kookie 🐰: There’s a lot of aggression going on here.

Jimin 💕: Because you’re a lucky little shit that’s why.

Kookie 🐰: I didn’t force her into a sundress babe.

Jimin 💕: I don’t see you stopping her 👀

Kookie 🐰: As a lawyer I can confirm that’s illegal.

Jimin 💕: Lammeee. Anyways, send me a pic.

Kookie 🐰: ???

Jimin 💕: Y/N. Sundress. Pic. Send now pls.

Kookie 🐰: That’s creepy babes.

Jimin 💕: Not if you take a selfie. Then I can see all four of my babies!

Well, Jungkook did have to admit that was less weird than a voyeuristic picture of you in a sundress.

Worth a shot.

“Y/N? Wanna take a selfie and send it to Jimin? He wants to see you and the babies and is being annoying about it,” he chuckled.

He wasn’t entirely lying.

“Sure! Here I’ll scoot closer,” you said, struggling to shuffle.

“Wait, you might pull something, hold on,” Jungkook said, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you in closer. Your heart stammered at the sensation of Jungkook’s strong arm pulling you in closer. You tried not to let the shock show on your face when he got the phone out and took the picture.

Jungkook’s heart could burst right then and there.

Your hand had naturally rested on your little bump and your smile was radiant like the rest of you. Jungkook could hardly breathe when he squeaked out it was good and fired it off to Jimin in the hopes that it would shut him up for a little while.

Kookie 🐰: 1029.jpg

Jimin 💕: What the fuck.

Kookie 🐰: Now what’s wrong????

Jimin 💕: You get to be alone with her looking like that. I’m jealous duh.

Kookie 🐰: I’m gonna fucking leave you on r.

Jimin 💕: You wouldn’t dare.

Jimin 💕: Babe?

Jimin 💕: I’m sorrryyyyyy please don’t leave me on r you know I hate it.

Jimin 💕: You brat, you suck.

Jimin 💕: And not the good kind of suck either.

You watched as his phone lit up, making you smile at the thought of Jimin. Then, a thought popped into your head.

“Jungkook?” you asked, settling back into the couch.

“Yeah?” he asked, turning towards you.

“Can you ask if Jimin is eating well? If he’s doing okay? I ask him when I message but he keeps telling me not to worry, I just want to make sure that he’s alright,” you mentioned. Before he left, Jimin had started a new diet and you were worried that he wasn’t eating enough to help sustain him. Especially with the stress of being away from home.

“Yeah, I can do that,” Jungkook nodded.

Jungkook fired off a quick message, asking Jimin if he was okay otherwise.

You waited patiently, hoping to hear the truth from Jimin through Jungkook.

Jungkook’s phone pinged and he looked at it and read the message aloud.

“Doing good baby, thanks for asking! So much for leaving me on r huh?”

You chuckled, but felt a sense of worry settle in your stomach. But Jungkook ignored the remainder of the messages that fired off through his phone from his annoyingly sweet boyfriend and decided he’d like to spend time with you instead.

You two fell into easy conversation. About your past with your great aunt, what you remembered of your family, as well as simple things like your favorite color and favorite anime.

Jungkook discovered you really liked anime just like him and he suggested the two of you watch one just to pass the time. He put on the pilot episode of Black Clover and the two of you fell into a comfortable silence. You were wrapped in watching the show and Jungkook was trying hard to keep his eyes forward. But honestly? He’d much rather watch you enjoying the show, the way your eyes scrunched up when you laughed and the way you snorted when Asta did something stupid, which was ninety percent of the time.

“Is Noelle, like, aware she likes Asta or is it just a trope thing?”

“Oh my God, Asta don’t do that! You’re gonna get the whole party killed!”

Jungkook couldn’t contain his laughter at your outbursts.

It was all too precious in his eyes.

You were precious.

And the two lives you were carrying inside of you...

—

You’d been really exhausted the past couple days.

And Jungkook couldn’t find you more adorable than he did right now.

Jungkook told you that Jimin would be coming home early in the morning and he’d be picking him up from the airport when his flight came in.

The pair of you were in the living room, sitting on the couch. Well, you were practically asleep on the couch, and Jungkook was trying to get you to make a decision.

“Y/N?” He asked.

“Mmm,” you murmured, leaning your heavy head on your hands.

“Did you want to come with me?” He asked, standing up.

“I’ll be alright,” you said, not quite opening your eyes.

“At least go to bed, Y/N. You shouldn’t sleep out here on the couch, it’s not good for your back,” he complained, urging you to stand up.

“I’m fine here-”

“I’m home!” Jimin’s bright voice came through the house.

“What?” Jungkook said, frowning, looking at his phone.

“Where are my babies?” Jimin yelled, walking into the living room.

All the air rushed out of his lungs. There were his two favorite people. Jungkook was all casual, his favorite look on his and you were sitting there practically falling asleep in the couch cushions.

Jungkook walked over and was quick to give him a gentle peck on the lips before he hugged him tightly. Jimin whispered loving words into his boyfriend’s ear, running his hands down the taller man's back before his eyes moved to you. Blearily, you stood up to greet him too. Kissing Jungkook’s cheek, Jimin walked out of his grasp to walk over to you.

“How are you?” He asked, placing his hands on your elbows and squeezing gently.

“Sleepy,” you murmured, eyes not quite open.

“I can see that,” he chuckled. His eyes ghosted down you, checking you over to make sure everything was alright with you when he saw the more prominent belly protruding from your dress.

“You okay?”

No.

No he was not.

He wasn’t expecting to come home and see you looking… Well, like this. All beautiful and maternal. It did things to him seeing you in such a state. Because of him. Those were his and Jungkook’s babies growing in you and that idea made him swell with an odd sense of pride.

“Jimin?” You asked, voice sounding moderately concerned.

Jungkook had walked over and placed a hand on Jimin’s shoulder, rubbing his tensed muscles.

“Baby, you need something?”

“It’s just… You, your-uh,” he coughed. “Your stomach has gotten bigger since I saw you last,” Jimin flushed.

“You want to feel?” You asked.

Jimin and Jungkook’s eyes both shot up in shock.

“Yes,” he breathed.

“Here,” you said, rolling your dress up to reveal the bump jutting out in front of you. You had worn leggings underneath the dress because the apartment was cold. But the way Jimin’s eyes sparkled with amazement made your chest tighten. Jungkook was pouting off to the side, making you want to smile.

“There’s room for two hands on my stomach, Jungkook,” you said, grabbing his wrist and pulling him forward too. Gently, you place both of their hands on your swollen belly. Jimin rubbed your soft skin with his thumb tenderly, wondering if his children could feel him. Jungkook did something similar, looking at your tummy with glittering orbs, like this was the most beautiful moment in life. This moment right here. With all three of you.

Jungkook grabbed Jimin’s other hand with his, interlocking their fingers with a soft grin on his features. Jimin looked at him and placed a gentle kiss on their joined hands.

“You’re incredible Y/N, truly,” Jungkook breathed.

“I’m nothing special,” you said, fiddling with the necklace the boys had given you.

“You’re more than enough,” Jimin said, looking at you with an intensity that had your heart stammering. But before you could refute their kind words, you were yawning. Jungkook tried to hold back his laughter, but you were far too cute for your own good.

“Come on, Y/N, you should go to bed,” Jungkook said.

“Wanna stay here,” you pouted.

“I’m not going anywhere, I have the next week off because of the trip. Time to get reacclimated. I don’t have any patients, so why don’t you go take a nap and when you get up, I’ll take you to lunch,” Jimin offered, giving you a sweet grin.

You seemed to think about it for a minute.

“Okay, I guess,” you said, rubbing your eyes.

“I’m gonna head to work then,” Jungkook said, heading towards the entry way for his keys and such. When your head snapped around and you glared at him. Jungkook froze in place at the look.

“Have you eaten yet?” You asked, raising a brow.

“Um, well. I was going to grab something on the way,” Jungkook said, rubbing his neck.

“Eat. Before you leave,” you said.

“Y-Yes, I will,” he agreed.

Jimin almost burst out into laughter. Jungkook was a stubborn brat most of the time and hardly listened to Jimin early on in their relationship. To see him so utterly whipped for you had him wanting to bend over laughing.

Jungkook quickly grabbed a bowl of granola and ate it while you watched him dutifully, even packing him a snack to eat while he was at work. Even in your sleepy movements, Jimin could see how much you cared.

His own chest felt constricted at the sight of you two together. His favorite babies. Jimin wanted to go over and wrap both of you up in his arms and kiss both you and Jungkook senseless… But now wasn’t the time for him and Jungkook to ask you. They had to do it right, make it special…

Jungkook managed to get away from you, promising he’d drink enough water and he’d take breaks. You scolded him thoroughly when Jimin was gone and it was honestly hilarious that the younger man would comply with your demands so easily.

You yawned again when you turned around and saw Jimin staring at you with a slightly dazed look on his face. You frowned in confusion and walked over, checking him over.

“Did you eat enough when you were gone? Did you sleep-”

“Y/N,” Jimin chuckled. “It’s okay, I’m more aware of my limits than Jungkook.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, bringing him into an awkward hug Jimin was most certainly not expecting. But, he wasn’t going to argue with a good thing. He wrapped his arms around you and almost gasped at the feeling of your little tummy pushing into him. You trailed your hands down his back, causing Jimin to slump forward against your shoulder.

You took his weight, rubbing his back and up to his shoulders. Jimin grumbled appreciatively, relaxing in your hold far too easily. Slowly, you pulled away, looking at him with your eyes blazing.

“W-What?” He asked.

“I can feel your vertebrae! And, your waist is narrower than the last time. Are you really dieting?” You asked, frowning.

“I-I,” Jimin swallowed.

“You don’t need to do that, Jimin. You’re handsome and perfect just the way you are,” you said firmly.

“It’s just a few pounds I want to get rid of,” he huffed, puffing out his cheeks.

“It’s just a few pounds now, but what happens when you lose them and you still don’t like how you look? Do you just keep losing? I’d understand if you wanted to exercise more to gain muscle or if you wanted to make a nutritional diary or something, but this is too much,” you said softly. “I don’t want you to feel like this.”

Jimin was shocked you paid that much attention to him. He’s always felt that you and Jungkook meshed better. But now he knows, his throat closed in emotion.

You’d been watching Jimin for a while. He tended not to eat heavy in the afternoons, saying it made him tired and unproductive. But you know it’s because food is harder to digest and you’re more apt to gain weight if you eat later in the day. And Jimin’s weight fluctuates so easily. You always hear him complaining to Jungkook that his suits are either too big or too small. That something doesn’t suit his stature.

“I want you to love yourself. It doesn’t have to be today, it doesn’t have to be this year even. But I want you to look in the mirror and know, there are people who love you for who you are, not what you look like. There’s so much more to you than your handsome face. A kind, and active listener. A man with a heart of gold. And you have a partner who loves you more than words can describe. And these children,” you said, taking his hands and placing them on your stomach carefully. “They will love you unconditionally. There’s already so much love for you out there. But if you can’t find it in yourself to love who you are, then you’re missing out. Because there’s already a lot to love, Jimin. So much.”

Jimin didn’t realize it, but he was crying. Holding onto you so gently, his children tucked safely away inside of you. But, he felt so vulnerable right now. You’d bared his deepest secret without even knowing it.

Jimin had never felt worthy. Like there was always more he could prove. Even as a professional therapist and counselor, he couldn’t find it to take his own advice. He could coach people all day about their own issues and help them find solutions, but the second he tried to do the work introspectively, walls and old pain rose to the surface.

He’d wanted so desperately to hide it from you. So that you wouldn’t think he was weak, that he’d be a good father to the children you were carrying. He didn’t want you to think he wasn’t going to be good enough for them… For you.

Jungkook knew his pain, and sometimes shared in it. The younger man is always being pressured to be the best in an extremely competitive field. But Jimin grew up with a different dynamic, with parents that are no longer in the picture.

His children would never know their grandparents because Jimin knows that kind of demanding and critical view of your children isn’t a life, but a set of shackles weighing on your heart as you try to please everyone but yourself. It was a painful decision, but they don’t need to be a part of his life anymore. Or his children’s.

You could see the pain etched into Jimin’s features. It was a hard pill to swallow, being told to stop constantly analyzing every little thing you’re doing and to try and be happy when sometimes, deep down, you’re really not.

But if he could just try.

Just a little.

He could make it.

“I never wanted you to know,” he breathed, wiping his eyes. “Gosh I’m such a mess, I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. I don’t know why you’re so over critical, but it’s needless. You are allowed to strive for excellence and good things and to be unhappy with things. But, this kind of self hatred isn’t healthy,” you said.

“How did you know?”

You blushed, not really wanted to admit you’ve been watching him and Jungkook, but he deserved to know. Maybe if you pointed things out he could recognize when he was doing them.

“You don’t eat in the afternoon a lot. And if you do it’s not a lot. You tend to over do it with alcohol. I know you have a higher tolerance but, still. I can hear you when you talk about your clothes to Jungkook. I know when you’re dieting because your cheeks hollow out first. You love to eat out, but when you cook you always give Jungkook and me bigger portions,” you said, biting your lip.

Jimin gave you a weak smile, one that made your chest hurt. “I didn’t know you were watching us too,” he said, rubbing his eyes in frustration.

“It’s okay to cry, it’s okay to not be okay,” you encouraged. “I’m not okay all the time. I struggle, I feel down. But you and Jungkook squash those fears, squash all the doubt and fear. I can’t thank you both enough for everything you’ve done for me. I’m not even talking financially, you two have been such great friends to me.”

Friends.

Jimin’s heart froze.

“Ah... of course, we’re... we’re grateful to have a friend like you as well. You’re doing so much for us,” he said, eyes dropping.

“I wouldn’t do it for anyone else,” you said, giving Jimin a kind expression. He tried to return it, but you knew you’d said something wrong. He was closing off again. “Are you okay-”

“We should go out to eat,” Jimin said, turning towards his room. “You can take a nap before we go. I’m not really hungry right now.”

With that, Jimin shut the bedroom door and you were standing in the living room alone, wondering what on earth just happened...

--

Jimin was a good actor.

He’d done it plenty of times with patients and people throughout his life.

But now?

He couldn’t think of anything else.

Friends.

Is that all you wanted to be?

Surely friends don’t look that deeply at another person? Surely they don’t watch your habits that closely.

Jimin hadn’t changed his clothes and laid on his bed staring at the ceiling. Should he and Jungkook even try to be more with you? Is this what you want? Being a part of a couple is already hard enough, would it work between the three of you?

What would happen if someone wanted to step away? What would happen to the children? What would happen to the remaining two. What if they all wanted to separate? Would you have any rights? Would he?

Jimin couldn’t help the anxious feeling creeping up his throat. He knew the warning signs for himself, but even as a licensed professional, the fear, the doubt and the worry all came crashing down on him at once.

The feeling of drowning.

There’s too much at once.

It’s all overwhelming and everything is suddenly tilted on an axis without even footing. Breathing becoming labored, Jimin stumbled to his feet. He tried to follow the steps, in through your nose out through your mouth. Hold for eight seconds. Try not to panic, try to keep yourself level.

But, it was like everything he’d ever told his patients didn’t apply. It was too hard, staying rational was too hard.

A soft knock came to the door.

“Jimin? Are you ready to go?” you asked, standing on the other side.

“Help me,” he pleaded, gripping his sides so hard he could feel his own ribs. They couldn’t move enough, he wasn’t breathing.

“Jimin? Are you alright? Something wrong?” you asked.

“I-I can’t,” he gasped, collapsing to his knees.

You heard the thud through the wood and your concern grew. You tried knocking again, but there was no response.

“Jimin? Say something, I’m worried,” you said, biting your lip.

Again, no response.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore so you placed your hand on the handle and pushed the door open.

You weren’t really sure what you expected to see when you walked in, but Jimin trembling on the floor wasn’t one of them.

“Jimin!” you yelped, getting on your knees next to him. He was shaking like a leaf, hands clutching onto his shirt so tight you wondered how it hadn’t ripped yet. What was going on? Could you touch him? Would that just make it worse?

“Jimin, Jimin look at me,” you pleaded.

“C-Can’t... breathe,” he gasped.

“Let go of yourself, hold onto me instead. Jimin, sweetheart, easy,” you said, softly placing a hand on his. He jolted so hard you feared you’d hurt him.

“I can’t do this,” he hiccuped.

“Do what, Jimin?” you questioned, trying to gently pry his death grip apart.

“Don’t deserve this... You or Jungkook,” he cried.

“Jimin, let go of yourself,” you urged again.

“I’ll fall apart if I let go,” he whimpered.

“Then let me pick up the pieces if you do,” you whispered, patting his hair soothingly.

He finally lifted his head, looking at you with wide and scared eyes. You brought your hand to his cheek, wiping the tears away with a gentle touch. Jimin managed to pull one hand off of himself, watching as it laid limp at his side.

“On me, hold me,” you encouraged.

“Y-Y/N,” he croaked. When he didn’t move, you brought his hand to your hip gently.

“I’m here, I’m right here,” you said, rubbing his knuckles with your thumb.

“Here,” he breathed.

“Even if you fall apart, even if you feel broken, the pieces of you are still good. They still belong together, even if they feel like they don’t fit. Take some of mine, to fill the spaces that hurt,” you begged. “Because you gave me two pieces that fit perfectly right here.”

You took his other hand that had loosened on his shirt and set it on your stomach. Jimin took a sharp breath in. He slowly touched your belly, smoothing his hand over the protruding bump. Jimin could feel himself coming back in. Slowly, but surely.

The pieces weren’t falling apart.

They were falling together.

“You’re alright. You’re safe and you are loved, so much,” you said, bringing him into your embrace. Jimin was stunned for a second, but relaxed in your hold. Your scent overwhelmed him, but not in a scary way. It took away all the pain, the fear and the tightening sensation started to let go.

“I’m here,” he squeaked.

“Yes you are, you’re right here. With me and the babies, we’ve got you,” you said, combing your fingers through his hair to soothe him. His body was still shaking, but it wasn’t like he was going to shatter now. Just startled.

“Babies,” he whispered, letting his head fall in the crook of your neck.

“Yes, we’re here. All yours,” you said, placing your hand on top of his.

Jimin’s heart stuttered at your words.

Were you his? Were you Jungkook’s?

D-Did you feel the way they felt?

“Y/N,” Jimin said, letting a few more tears fall before letting them soak into your shirt and disappear from him.

“It’s okay,” you reassured.

You two sat there for a long while.

Your legs had started to cramp and go numb from the position, but you couldn’t let him go. Not now, not when he needed you. He and Jungkook had held you when you were scared, now it was your turn.

But, your heart was pounding in your chest.

His warm body against yours, clinging to you like a lifeline. You didn’t realize until now. You couldn’t fathom.

But this is where you knew you wanted to be.

Right here with him, and Jungkook. You didn’t want to let him go ever. Or these kids. It felt like you’d been hit with a car. But just the thought of them not having you, or you not having them was almost too much to bear.

You’d died a little on the inside when you said they were your friends.

You were friends with Namjoon and Jin, you wanted to be more with Jimin and Jungkook.

But, could that even work?

Would you last?

How could it work with these kids in the middle?

With... with you in the middle...

Jimin had fallen asleep, resting against your legs as you sat on their bed. You’d managed to get him on his feet after some coaxing.

You called Jungkook shortly after.

“Y/N? Everything alright?” he answered, sounding like he was coming through on his car audio.

“I’m alright, the babies are okay but... Jimin’s struggling,” you said softly, running your fingers through his hair.

“What happened?” Jungkook asked, sounding worried.

“H-He had a panic attack, I think,” you explained.

“Oh fuck, Y/N... Is he okay? Can I talk to him?” Jungkook’s tone turned scared.

“He’s okay, I calmed him down. He’s alright,” you eased, trying to keep your voice level so you didn’t wake Jimin up.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asked. You heard the gear shift go in.

“I’m fine, are you home?” you asked.

“Yes, I’ll be up in just a second hang on,” he said, hanging up.

You heard the front door open a while later. Jungkook’s footsteps came up the hall and you lifted your head to see him standing in the doorway.

“Oh my baby,” he whispered, walking over and kneeling next to Jimin.

“He had a tough day,” you said, taking your hands away.

Jungkook took over immediately, placing a soft kiss on his forehead. His frown was severe, looking at his partner with such concern it made you feel out of place.

Your job was done, Jungkook was here and could do the rest.

But, you couldn’t find it in yourself to move.

“Y/N, thank you so much for helping him,” Jungkook said, taking your hand in his.

“I-I’m glad I could help,” you stammered.

“It means a lot, seriously. Thank you,” Jungkook stressed, placing a gentle kiss to your hand. You felt your face flush immediately.

“It’s alright, I’m glad I was here. No one should go through that alone,” you said, frowning.

“You should get some rest. Did you wind up taking a nap when I left for work?” he asked.

“No,” you said, feeling the exhaustion in your body taking over.

“Just lay down, sleep. It’s okay,” he encouraged, rubbing your knee. Jimin fussed on your lap, but you quickly calmed him down again.

“Okay, but-” you yawned. “But just for a second.”

“Mhm. Just a second,” Jungkook smiled. You leaned back against the pillows and the last thing you felt was two pairs of hands clutching your hands.

Taglist: @kittkat44, @giadalin, @kookachuwu, @honeyandcakess, @lolalee24, @mariana-mmtz, @theravengoddess, @tsunami7, @artsxpe, @alanit18, @lilbabymoonie, @jeonartemis, @brokencrownqueen, @ellareads7, @chimchoom

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[chrysalispen]

Prompt #14 - Attrition

AO3 LINK HERE

Fill under cut.

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

Aurelia hated balls. Yet here she was, the center of attention at one of her very own.

Or she would be if she weren't hiding.

She stared, disconsolate, down at her feet-- covered as they were by a shimmering drape of ivory satin. Over the gown lay the deep scarlet sash with its house crest. The dress itself felt scandalous with its strapless shoulders and plunging cut, not to mention bloody cold - honestly, how anyone could be so fond of skin-baring formals in a climate where the temperatures hovered at or below freezing for most of the year she'd never understand - but the sash was really too much.

"Aurelia, darling."

Her aunt lingered in the doorway, a glass of wine in one hand. Aurelia didn't even bother with a response. A month after the dinner which Uncle Janus had hosted to introduce her to her "intended" and his parents, she remained so furious with her guardians that she still had to exercise all the self-control at her disposal simply to exchange civil pleasantries with them.

It was such a strange and unpleasant thing, this rage inside her. Like a constant ache in her chest, or a cinder that could never quite cool to ash. It seemed to smoulder even when not in the presence of her would-be gaolers.

She had never before realized she was capable of being this angry.

In Gyr Abania, there were partisan fighters in the mountains (Father had called them "outlaws" or "brigands" when he wasn't calling them something worse): a motley collection of men and women fighting against the Empire's occupation, whose exploits often made the provincial papers. Without Ala Mhigo there seemed to always be fighting between the viceroy's legion and those pockets of resistance - especially out in the fringe communities near the wall to the south - without any clear victor in sight.

Of course, it was naught that anyone in the capital would have heard about - unless there was widespread and violent revolt, life in the provinces remained largely beneath their notice. Even in the city itself such matters were rarely discussed beyond the idle click of a disapproving tongue over one's eggs and toast and tea. Most of the wealthy who made their homes up in the old palace district saw the partisans only as criminals whose sole goal was to upset the 'natural order' of things and assumed Lord van Baelsar would sort them out himself.

But Aurelia had overheard enough of the conversations between her father and his peers to know the viceroy found their antics more worrisome than the papers let on. The Ala Mhigan people might keep their heads down and kowtow to their Garlean overlords when it was necessary, but it was as much an act as her own show of deference to her relatives. As she had grown older it had been easier and easier to sense the resentment and fury that roiled out of sight: a massive monster whose shadow was sometimes visible to the observant eye, lurking beneath the placid surface of the lochs.

She didn't presume to know how the aan felt, had no way of understanding what it must be like to share in such an unenviable lot. But, she thought to herself, surely this seething rancor she felt must be the most miniscule taste of it.

"You can't simply hide from your guests, you know," Marcella said when Aurelia didn’t acknowledge her presence. "You'll have to face everyone eventually."

"I wonder that you and Uncle can face me."

"What is that supposed to mean? What precisely do we have to apologize for?"

Aurelia tightened her grip about the snowy fur that served as her sole protection between her bared back and the chill emanating from the tempered glass window. "You both know what you did."

"And you, miss, should save these dramatics of yours for the playhouse. None of the rest of us care to see or hear them." Marcella's response was what she had expected: a long-suffering sigh, a snap of the wrist, a flutter of her fan as she took another sip from her glass. "We've done only what needs must to secure your future."

My future, Aurelia thought. 

In that moment the smoulder was no longer a smoulder. She rounded on her aunt, limbs shaking and face burning like a banked ember, unable to keep her temper leashed a moment longer.

"You have done naught for the past six years except to throw me like a leg of mutton at every spoiled prat with a family name and a fortune in the hopes I'll become someone else's problem, and you expect me to believe 'twas all done for my own good? Do I have no say in what becomes of me?"

"This marriage is for your own good. You can mislike it all you wish, but this is what is expected of you."

"Expected," her laugh was as cold and brittle as the icicles dangling from the eaves outside, twinkling with harsh crystalline purity in the outdoor lights. "It's what you expect of me, perhaps."

"Yes. It is. This is a windfall for you, and you would see that and cease this self-absorbed prattle if you had any onze of sense in you at all." Her aunt's face was now as livid as her own, she noticed with a petty sort of satisfaction. "I have given you countless chances to come to terms with this in your own time, but I don't think you understand just how incredibly fortunate you are."

"How am I fortunate?” Aurelia demanded. “Tell me. What about any of this is luck?"

"What about it isn't? You caught that young man's eye by sheer chance and even then it took your uncle loosening the purse strings on the family coffers to keep his parents' interest, girl. You've no money or status of your own save the family name and his largesse."

"Yes, the two of you have made quite certain that I am well aware of my precarious position in-"

"To wed into His Radiance's family, extended though that connection might be, is prestige well worth any personal inconvenience. As it is, you have no guarantee that any further offers will be forthcoming."

"My education will afford me other opportunities, aunt."

"Will it? A field medic's salary will not keep you in the manner to which you are entitled. And what will you be doing with that expensive education of yours in the meantime? Crawling through the mud. Surrounded by the dead, dodging sword and spell. Risking capture. Placing yourself at the tender mercies of savages who will take your virtue as readily as your life! Have you the stomach for such things? We doubt it. Your own father doubted it."

"That is no great surprise, at least," she said bitterly. "Save my mother and L'haiya, none of you have ever shown the barest scrap of confidence in me."

Marcella snapped the fan shut and slammed it down upon the nearby lacquered table with a clatter. 

"Your common mother did you a disservice most grave indeed in allowing you to run wild, rather than preparing you for what lay in your future."

"Don't you dare speak of Mama so-"

"Perhaps in the southern provinces such unfettered freedom to do as you like is the order of the day. In a civilized society such as ours, that behavior is an unseemly display. One which carries untenable risk to our family."

To Aurelia's mortified horror she could feel tears welling in her eyes. They were angry tears, but she knew her aunt would take them as a sign of weakness, and try as she might she could not stop the tightness in her throat from closing in. "How it is any less a risk to wed me to a stranger?" "Do you think I knew your uncle? I met him the day before we were to wed. I was a girl, younger than you, and I too raged against my fate at first. But in time, I discovered that being a mother - fostering the next generation of Garlean leaders - is perhaps the most important duty one could have." A smile curved Marcella's painted lips, but it seemed to Aurelia's eyes strangely resigned. Certainly there was nothing of joy in the overbright shine of her eyes. "To the masses, their betters are their beacons. They look to us for guidance, to light the way through the cold and the dark. Just as we ourselves must look to His Radiance, to guide us in turn." "I never asked for any of this." The stern lines in her aunt's brow relaxed and beneath the steel a sudden, naked sympathy laid itself bare in her gaze. "Give it time. Once you’ve had a chance to settle in, I've no doubt you'll feel differently. There is a certain contentment in accepting your place in life. But make no mistake: it is your place. This is the role Garlemald has given you, my dear," Marcella said, in a much softer and conciliatory voice. "And you must serve."

Aurelia said nothing. She clutched the furs to her chest as if they were a lifeline and stared down at the wood grain of the table. It was all she could do to keep the scream that lay just behind her lips from bolting forth - let alone the wild impulse to do so just to see who might come running.

Mistaking her niece's silence for acquiescence, Marcella het Laskaris cleared her throat.  "You may take five minutes to compose yourself. I will inform Lord Sebastian that his radiant and grateful bride will be joining him shortly."

The door clicked shut at her aunt's back. She waited a brace of beats, then another, and another, until she could be certain that she was alone. With a soft click she unclasped the pearl-studded handbag she'd brought to hold small necessities and slipped the small card with its switchboard number out from the folds of her handkerchief, where it had remained hidden since her early afternoon appointment.

For a moment she paused, flipping it over and back to read the address and the string of numbers, then tucked it into the plastic case that held her student identification card and transit pass. It would be secure in there, and at a glance would appear no different from the other small cards she kept stashed in the same spot (punch cards for her favorite cafes, mostly).

"Thank you, aunt," Aurelia whispered into the still darkness, eyes dry and heart afire. "Your advice has been most helpful."

Gathering the furs about her shoulders and tucking the purse beneath her arm, she made sure to plaster a false smile on her face before reaching for the doorknob. She didn't want to be late.

[wistfulrat]

a 4-part rec list of my fave drarry fics - the thrillers, dramas, soft bois, and wankbanks getting me through 2020′s shitstorm

[ for my fellow fledgling drarry stans bc im also very new here! like tbh i think the last fic i read pre-pandemic was a 1D ziam series back in 2013?? lmao god. but alas, after reading HP fanfic for the first time during lockdown & subsequently 300+ drarry fics since then, it is time. it’s time to be embarrassing about it online via lengthy rec lists. and if you end up loving any of these fics? follow the authors, leave kudos & comments on their work, send them nice msgs bc they do all this shit for free & that’s wild ]

part 1: thrillers

mood: for when i need something exciting, haunting, immersive, fast-paced

includes: case fics, mystery fics, plotty adventures!! expansive world-building, time warps, magical theory, wizarding politics!! the thrill of a chase!!! you’ll get your drama & spicy sex but mostly it’s the unravelling that hooks you. because for these?? you’re here for the ride, bitch.

Shibboleths by @lol-zeitgeistic​​ - 100k - E Douglas Adams sci-fi fantasy rom-com wet dream. i'm mad about how good it is. the boys are hogwarts professors and something Scary Big is happening in the magical world and the Dursleys are here?? i audibly gasped, i laughed, i remained on the edge of my fucking seat the whole time

Hermione Granger's Hogwarts Crammer for Delinquents on the Run by @waspabi​​ - 93k - T canon divergence excellence!! jkr*wling is punching the air rn. harry doesn’t learn he’s a wizard till he’s 17 and he’s Miffed. voldy is ruining everything, the Order is underground. hermione’s got her own band of rebel teens. also draco’s here and he's very gay for harry and very mad about it. road trips, tent sleeping, hijinks, guerilla warfare, seizing the press, feisty kids out to fuck ur shit uP while flirting a little. this is honestly an all-time fave.

If an Injury Is to Be Inflicted by @shealwaysreads​​ - 45k - E ANARCHIST DRARRY IS GOD TIER and the pacing here is relentless. it’s a post-war hellscape and harry’s missing and draco is scheming. it’s violent, it’s sexy, it’s tightly written, it’s got observations on the cost of survival and revolution, it’s brilliant.

Azoth by @lol-zeitgeistic​ - 88k - E 8th year magical theory time and the boys are Ambitious in a hot-mad-scientist kind of way. harry is a late-bloomer Swot and has a heart-boner for genius!draco and draco tries not to have a gay panic about it?? there’s animagi, alchemy, poetic theories of change!! & lots of bird metaphors. immaculate

The Boy Who Only Lived Twice by @letteredlettered​​ - 54k - E a spy and his handler ohmygoD I'm a hoe for missions of the impossible sort and secret identities!! & the unravelling of said identities!! the need to be seen at war with the need to escape. draco & harry as equals, evenly-matched and whip-smart and terrifying on the battlefield?? incredible

Who We Are in The Shadows by @quicksilvermaid​ - 100k - E an ex-auror. an elusive investigator. boys Gone Rouge. it’s very hot of them in a magical-bourne-identity kind of way. powerful werewolf harry + intelligent draco + outmaneuvering bad guys outside the law?? there’s a reason you’ve seen this specific creature fic in every drarry list bc IT’S FUCKING EXCELLENT IS WHAT IT IS

Turn From Stone by @harryromper​ - 45k - M post-war hogwarts castle-magic turned malevolent as shit and it might be lost forever except!! hermione’s going to save the day and her plan’s seedy as hell but the DA gang + draco are all here. an adventure fic feat. the black lake but even more ominous, haunted common rooms, libraries of death, flying daggers, deception, ancient spells, drarry fighting for their lives but in a hot way.

The Art of Shadow Boxing by @tommylane​ - 178k - E draco’s a professional fighter in Thailand and oh shit harry’s here but he hasn't seen harry in 7years?? and what the fuCK happened during their AU horcrux adventures with the trio that made draco disappear to Thailand?? something is amiss. mafia moms, wrestling sexily, so much pining, flashbacks, pentagrams. draco needs a hug.

The Fall of the Veils by @letteredlettered​​ - 60k - M "muggles find out about wizards, wars are fought, apparition is abolished, political conspiracies abound, draco is asexual, and harry has legilimency sex with him” -- IS THAT SUMMARY NOT FUCKING WILD I WAS HOOKED. the scale of this fic is breathtaking and makes you appreciate the labor of world-building in genre fics bc the political and moral complexities of this fic, bitch??? lives rent free in my head

REVOLVELOVER by @firethesound​ @lol-zeitgeistic​​ - 46k - E hit-wizard harry and anti-government extremist draco!! ethics, political corruption, car chases, subterfuge. and god the mood of this fic. the characterization! weaponized-stoic-hurting harry. obsessive-anarchist-yearning draco. carnal, us-against-the-world kind of love. hmm I would simply die for thEM.

Like Clockwork by agentmoppet - 40k - E curse-breaker draco and unspeakable harry!! they’re both hoes for puzzles. harry has a Secret and broods a lot. draco is pissy about it. they’re both too clever for their own good. featuring mysterious objects with a side of trust issues and wanting to murder your crush.

Burn the Curtains and the Wine by @nerdherderette​​ - 24k - E mr. and mrs. smith but it’s harry and draco and it’s exactly as hot and exciting as it sounds. the secret lives of married assassins feat. car explosions, sexily dueling in the desert, draco wielding muggle weapons!

In The Hand by aideomai - 28k - T HELL YEA DRARRY MULTIVERSE BITCHES LOVE THE DRARRY MULTIVERSE. harry’s been missing for months and now we’re dabbling in other dimensions, messing with time travel, racing against the clock, meeting every version of drarry you’ve ever read about. fics within a fic!! god I love it I would read anything aideomai writes tbh, they invented thrill and they do it with less than 30k words?? the talent

Crossing Lines by ren @alcoholicrevo - 48k - E smuggle rings, undercover investigations, draco being hot, harry being flustered by draco being hot -- all of this taking place on a swank train with themed sections and everything. it’s magical murder on the orient express time, bitch!!

Tales from the Special Branch by @femmequixotic​​ - 1.2m - E a 5-part, multiple pov, behemoth of an auror-fic series worthy of its hype bc you know what? it truly Has It All - murders, drama, sex, treason, spooky magical shit, political conflict, drama-ridden relationships, a truly complex & full-bodied cast featuring the Hot Slytherins. jkr*wling fucking WISHES she had the range

[part 2: dramas | part 3: soft bois | part 4: wankbanks]

[pillsarchive]

Stu/ Vampire! reader imagine

Just a quick hoaky little thing I wrote at like 2 A.M last night. It's cheesy as shit, but the scream movies are too so I figured I'd post it anyways.

“Oh, no fuck you. That’s so weird - no - NO WHAT GIRL WOULD THINK THAT”S HOT THAT’S JUST WEIRD”

Twilight played on Stu’s television screen as randy yelled and stu cuddled up next to you. The party had been going great, and now it was even better. Most of the loud annoying shit bags had either passed out or gone home which meant you could just chill out and get smoked while you watched some horror movies with your pals. You had just figured out randy had never seen twilight, so after halloween ended you’d played a little game of truth or dare. Whoever chickened out first got to pick the next movie. You’d dared randy to go sit in the basement alone for five minutes (no flashlights allowed), and after a long rant about “no one taking the threat seriously” he’d explained that the way he saw it, it was watch this horrible vampire movie or get turned into a blood eagle and hung up next to the wine cellar shelves. In other words, randy was a wimp.

Stu nestled his head into your hair and talked lazily to you.

“We should dress up as the vampire guy and the brunette chick for halloween”

You giggled.

“Then we’d have to finally come to a conclusion on who wears the pants in this relationship. Or we could both go as Edward. Auto - homo - romanticism.”

“And make Billy wear a wig and low rise skinny jeans. Accurately represent the love triangle. Billy’s the werewolf guy, im the vampire, and you’re Kristin Stewart.”

You laughed a little more than you should have at that. You weren’t sure when you were going to break it to him, but it was probably good to do it sooner than later. You liked him a lot, billy wasn't any different. You were pretty sure it was a horrible idea, but you were dead set on keeping the two little psychopaths around. They were interesting, that was all you needed in a guy.

“You want some beer?”

You shook your head.

“Bear makes me wanna gag, you know that. I might go get myself another bottle out of your parent’s monumentally huge stash. How much wine can two people and a teenager drink?”

“It’s more of a bragging rights thing. They’ve never touched it, I cant stand it, the only reason they have it is because they like feeling rich. They’re hoarders, just neat about it. It’s the same reason they bought this huge ass house, not that im complaining.”

You giggled and ran your fingers through his hair. You enjoyed that look on his face, he thought he was fooling you. It was in his eyes. He liked you, and he wanted to incorporate you into the plan, but billy had some reservations. You’d be able to work it out by the end of the night, you always were. If push came to shove, you could deal with the cops and the media. Another thing the movies got wrong - you loved being on TV.

Stu got up. And so did you.

“And honey?”

“Yeah?”

“Meet me in your room after you get the beer. We need to talk about something…..personal.”

He grinned. You loved him.

“Me and stu are going to restock on the ala - co - hol”

“Yeah - we’ll be right back WoooOOOOOOOOoooOO!”

The crowd in the living room roared and he stuck his hands out in front of him and started to walk to the garage, snickering to himself.

“Feel free to switch it, randy. I'm releasing you from your bonds, you’re free as a dove.”

He smiled and looked at you upside down from his spot on the couch.

“Im actually sort of invested in their relationship. I’ve gotten the set up, im ready to see the car crash and burn.”

A few “yeah!” “me too”s echoed around the room, you smiled. You’d get them to leave randy alone, he was alright.

“If you think this is going to turn out badly, wait until the one where bella goes into labor for half an hour.”

Randy’s face twisted in disgust, you giggled and flashed him a toothy grin.

“Jesus, you have to come down here and cover my eyes for me when that comes up - I could barely get through the video they showed us in 9th grade sex ed.”

You’d never understand how the guy could watch a girl get sawed in half groin to sternum on tv without batting an eye, but he got all blushy and grossed out whenever anybody said the word “pregnancy” around him.

You found yourself laughing at the situation you were in, that had happened a lot in the last few years. 300 years old and you were hanging out with two small time serial killers at a highschool party, watching a vampire romance movie that parodied you. This was really what it had come to. Doing whatever you felt like doing in an attempt to stave off the boredom that came with being immortal. Impartial to right or wrong, moral compass thrown out the window, you just liked to watch interesting things happen. If that was so wrong god wouldn't do it, god wouldn't do it and you wouldn’t be allowed to exist.

As soon as you’d gotten into stu’s room you drank some wine and then put the cork back in the bottle. His bed smelled nice, his bed smelled like him. You snuggled up in the sheets and waited. When he walked in the room the smell of coppery blood clung to him like he’d just taken a bath in it, you couldnt help but inhale. He layed down next to you and smiled. The only thing present in him was love, that was his motive. He didnt want to hurt you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and snuggled up to him.

“What did you want to talk to me about, baby? Im not really in the mood for getting physical, sorry to disappoint.”

That was a lie. You could smell the arousal rolling off of him clear as he could smell the wine on your breath. You wondered if it was because of you or what he just came back from doing.

“That’s not what I meant when I said talk, you aren’t disappointing anybody. I need…’

You let out a breath and sat up. He followed suit.

“I need you to know a few things about me. I havent been completely honest with you, it’s nothing bad, im not breaking up with you, I just need you to stay calm and keep an open mind okay?”

He stopped touching you and looked you in the eyes.

“Nothing could make me leave. Nothing.”

You smiled and pretzeled your legs around his waist, running your fingers through his hair.

“That’s the first thing I wanted to tell you - I love you. “

He went stiff in your arms and turned to look you in the eyes. He looked shocked and his pupils were blown wide. You smiled at him and he smiled back.

“You mean it?”

“Why would I tell you that if I didnt mean it, dork?”

He grinned even wider and pulled you into a kiss. There was no tongue, it was short and sweet. You could smell his cologne and feel the heat from his body radiating onto yours. You wished everything could stay like this forever - hopefully after tonight that wish could come true. You could run away with both of them, find a nice place in new york where stu could party and go to concerts and billy could have his peace and quiet, maybe get a degree in forensics. Woodsboro was so, so small and the world was so large.

He pulled back from the kiss and you realized he’d pulled the knife out from under the sheet while your eyes were closed, you couldn't see it yet but it was laying on the bed behind his back. Better get it over with.

“I love you too. You dont know how long I’ve wanted to say that to you, you’re mine, the only girl ill ever fucking look at for the rest of my life. You’re amazing.”

His thumb ran over your jawline as he talked and his voice got softer as he went on. How are you supposed to do this?

“Where’s billy? “

Stu quirked an eyebrow.

“I dont know, probably off working out his relationship issues with sidney - today I think they’re trying physical therapy.”

“Ah, I’d have liked him to be here for the second thing.”

“There’s a second thi - oh, right.”

You sighed and crossed your legs.

“Im going to be blunt, if thats ok? I dont really know how to do this. Like I said, do not do anything rash, Im with you ‘till the end, you know that.”

His heart rate picked up a bit and he silently wondered if you’d figured him out. You laughed. No harm in telling him now.

“I’ve known about your extracurricular activity with billy for a while now.”

You could feel him pull back. Shit.

“Why haven't you called the cops then?”

His tone was suspicious, confused, scared. You wanted him to hold you.

“I dont give a shit. I’ve done worse, I promise. Just please don't breakup with me after this? I do, really, really like you.”

He nodded hesitantly and bit back a smile, inside you could tell he was over the moon that you weren’t trying to run away. Then came the thought. “Done worse?”

“Fuck. I guess the only word I can use, the only word that would make sense to you is…. Vampire, it sounds hoaky and it makes it less believable but ill have to work with it. Im a vampire, stu.”

He giggled and looked at the wine on the floor.

“I can never tell when you’re drunk. You just act completely normal and then you say weird shit.”

At least he wasnt angry.

“Want me to prove it to you?”

“Ooooh you gonna bite me?”

You opened your mouth and showed him your canines.

“Dont freak out, okay?”

With that, you let them drop down and form into longer, sharper versions of themselves. Stu’s eyes widened.

“What the hell?”

“Want me to do something else? I cant actually do that much, vampire’s in movies are way cooler than real ones, but I can read minds, talk to you in the headspace if you want me to. Think of something.”

He was stunned. You were starting to get worried.

“Darling?”

His mind was almost completely blank, almost like he was in shock, but slowly he began to take in what you’d told him. The more he thought about it, the more he realized this was cool. Like super, super cool. He’d already thought you were perfect before, now you were beyond.

‘Can you hear what im thinking right now?’

“Yeah, I can. You’re taking this well. “

He started to bounce up and down on the bed, full blown smile cracking across his face.

“Obviously - the girl Im in love with is just as much of a freak as I am!”

[targaryenimagines]

Tempering the Storm

Daenerys Targaryen x Reader

Word Count: 2,164

Summary:

Notes: For @alphawolfworld— I hope you enjoy it. I decided to make my own little spin on it, which I hope you enjoy.

The harsh winds of the North whip at your face as you step from the rowdy Great Hall. Your eyes watering slightly because of it. Pulling your cloak tighter to your body you begin to make your trek back towards your room. Thick plumes of your breath being the only thing that accompanied you on your journey. 

You could still hear the faint sound of laughter and drunken shouts. Something that brings a small smile to your lips. Even if you couldn’t stand to be around the drunkards that inhabited the Great Hall, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of warmth that they were able to be so happy. That they were able to find something to be so carefree about. You just hoped that they didn’t end up regretting it in the morning. 

With a smile, you hunker down against another strong surge of wind as you cross the courtyard. Your body canting to the side as you tried to right yourself. Alas, your body wasn’t used to the conditions that you had put it in. Something that you quickly discovered as your foot hit a patch of ice underneath the snow and your entire world flipped upside-down. The breath leaving your lungs in a whoosh of air as your back made contact with the cold stone of the ground. Thankfully it was slightly cushioned by the snow that made up the entirety of the North. 

Groaning, you flop your head down-- not having the energy to rise from the ground. Trying with all your might to ignore the cool liquid seeping into your clothes. Your eyes slip shut on their own accord as you imagine that you were simply resting against the warm sands of Meereen. The sound of crashing waves taking the place of howling wind. The harsh bite of the weather giving way to the gentle touch of the sun. When your eyes open once more you could feel the way your mood drops when you’re not met with the crystalline blue sky of Essos. A sight that you never knew you would miss so much. What I would do for this snow to become sand.

The soft sound of laughter pulls you out of your thoughts. Craning your neck, you had to squint through the thickening barrage of snow to see the figure approaching you. Even though as it drew closer and closer you could make out the familiar silhouette of Sansa Stark. A woman that you had grown rather fond of during your time in the North. You watch as she stops next to you with a gentle smile curling her lips. The blue of her eyes standing out against the stark fairness of her skin. Familiar waves of auburn being kept in a simple braid. Her soft voice filled with both amusement and concern. 

“Are you doing alright? I can’t imagine that you’re comfortable laying on the ground like that.”

You allow your own smile to appear as you looked up towards her. “I am doing quite alright down here. Why don’t you join me?” 

Her nose wrinkles at the offer. Her blue gaze tracing the lines of your clearly soaked cloak with a disgruntled air. “I would much rather stay where I am.” She turns her head towards the Great Hall-- a slight frown furrowing her brow. As if she was piecing together a puzzle that didn’t make much sense to her. After a moment her gaze meets yours once more. “Where is Lady Daenerys? Should she not be out here with you also?” 

A surprised look blossoms on your face at the question. Your own frown appearing as you mull over the words. The familiar warmth spreading through your chest as you thought about your dragon-- your Daenerys. But it quickly turns sour when memories of recent events come to the surface within your mind. Seemingly sensing your mood change, Sansa glances at the snow-covered ground with a pointed glare before she gingerly sits. Her back ramrod straight as she tried to ignore the feeling of it melting underneath her. 

Offering Sansa a weak smile, you begin to speak. “Dany has a lot on her plate right now. With the impending battle with the Night King and Cersei being a constant threat in the background.” You pause as a small sigh escapes your mouth. “It’s enough to make anyone feel pressured.”

“Has she been neglecting you?” Sansa seemed enraged by the thought. 

“No.” You shake your head at the mere thought of Daenerys doing so. “I just don’t see her as much I used to, but I know she tries her best to make time for me.”

Blue eyes darken at the thought. An expression flashing across her face that you couldn’t quite decipher. “I see.”

A silence settles over the two of you-- only the howling of the wind and far-off laughter permeating it. Opening your mouth, you try to figure out what you could possibly say to Sansa to soothe the situation. Even though you weren’t exactly sure what situation you were in. However, before you could, Sansa turns to you with a slight smile. Her expression much clearer than it had been a moment prior. 

“Why don’t we start heading towards your chamber? I think a change of clothing and wine between friends is more appealing than sitting out here. Don’t you agree?” 

Not knowing what to truly say, you simply nod. 

And with more energy than you were expecting, Sansa springs to her feet and holds out her hands towards you. Her normally closed off eyes sparkling with affection. 

“Then let’s go.” 

---------

“Did Jon truly do such a thing?” You ask in an incredulous tone. Not believing that the silent brooding man could ever do something like that. 

Sansa lets out an airy laugh. “I promise you it’s all true. Jon and Robb got into such mischief together.” A sad look flashes across her eyes before she can hide it. “I miss those days.”

Setting down your goblet of wine, you gently take Sansa’s hand in your own gentle grip. A look of complete understanding washing over your face. “I can understand that, but do you know who can also understand that. Better than anyone I have ever met?” 

She shakes her head in response, but there was the same look in her eyes from before. 

“Daenerys.” You frown at the small scoff that Sansa lets out in response. “I’m serious Sansa. Daenerys knows better than anyone how it feels to long for days long passed. To wish for a different future than the course you have been put on.” 

Sansa lowers her head-- her voice dropping to a low whisper. “You seem to old the Dragon Queen in high-esteem.” 

“I love her, Sansa,” you whisper back. “She has saved me more times than I can count. Has been there for me when I didn’t even know I needed someone. She has never given up on me. Has never faltered in her devotion for me. And I will never do so either.” 

An almost pained look appears on Sansa’s face at the clear conviction within your tone. It was a look that you suddenly understood. For it was a look you had seen many times before. A look that many potential-suitors held when they finally understood your complete devotion to Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen. 

Sighing softly, you offer Sansa an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Sansa.”

She offers a weak smile in return. “Not as sorry as I am.”

Tightening your hold on her hand, you pull Sansa into a warm hug. Wrapping your arms securely around her as she buries her face into the crook of your neck. A silent understanding passing between the two of you in that moment. That everything was going to be okay in the end. 

The sound of your chamber door causes you both to jump away from one another. Your eyes widening at the slim figure standing at the threshold of the room. A furious violet gaze meeting your shocked one. 

Standing you take a slight step forward. “Daenerys?” 

You pause when her gaze seemingly freezes you in place. Her eyes turning to the woman behind you. A harsh look taking over her features at the sight. 

“What in the Seven Hells is she doing here?” 

With widening eyes, you begin to speak-- desperately wanting to salvage the situation. “Sansa and I met earlier in the courtyard, and after a brief discussion we decided to convene in my chambers for some wine.” You gesture behind you towards the goblets. “And after another brief discussion I decided it best that I should hug her farewell.”

Daenerys’s eyes narrow. “Then why is she still here if you were simply hugging her farewell?” 

You flounder for an answer. Your brain seemingly short-circuiting as you tried to speak. Luckily, a soft voice speaks up behind you.

“I was just leaving.” You wince internally at the sharp quality to Sansa’s tone, but you smile gratefully towards her as she passes you. Thankful that she was able to speak when you couldn’t.

Pausing for a brief moment beside you, Sansa murmurs. “I shall see you tomorrow.” She shoots Daenerys a thinly-veiled glare. “I hope you sleep well.” 

With that she exits the room. The banging of the door being the only sound in the room for some time. Taking a chance, you glance towards Daenerys’s still figure. Only to find that she was still staring at you with an expression you couldn’t decipher. 

You take a small step towards her. Your expression open and honest. “Dany, I promise what you saw isn’t what you think it was. I was simply offering her a hug as a friend. Nothing more.”

Her mouth twists down in a frown. “I am well aware of your intentions, my love.” She turns from you and moves towards the window. Her expression pensive as she takes in the sights just beyond the glass. “It’s hers that I am vexed with.” 

You frown. “What do you mean, Dany?” 

She turns to you with a slight smile curling her lips. The first she had offered you since entering the room. “Oh you must realize how she stares at you, my love. Must realize how she speaks towards you without a care of who overhears.” She turns her gaze back towards the outside world. “Her gaze is filled with that of longing. A deep-rooted longing for something that she can never have. The type of longing that keeps one awake at night. Her words simply highlighting the fact. For they show no inkling of self-perservation as she tries to take something that is already someone elses.” Sighing, Daenerys moves towards the bed where she gingerly sits down. “So, no, it’s not you I am worried about, my darling.” 

Clearly seeing the anguish within Daenerys’s violet gaze, you move to sit beside her. Taking her still gloved hands in your own. Your eyes pleading with her to listen to you. 

“Dany,” you mumur with a soft look on your face. Your hand coming up to caress her cheek. “There is no other person that I could ever see myself with. No other person that I could ever see myself loving as much as I love you.” You dip your head as your next admission comes out. “I am aware of Sansa’s feelings towards me. Even though I had no knowledge of it when I entered this room with her. She has since become aware of my complete devotion towards you. Something that will never change.” 

Daenerys’s eyes flash with various emotions. Though you could tell clear as day that her insecurities were eating away at her. 

“Truly?” She asks with a small tilt of her head. “Even when my plans have to take me away from you for long periods of time? When I can’t spend time with you like I used to?” 

You smile. “Even then. For I know that you will be just as miserable as I am. That we will both be wishing for the day that we can be in each others arms once more.” You bring your lips to hers in a small, chastised kiss. “I am yours, Daenerys. For now and forever.”

Daenerys smiles back at you. Her violet eyes sparkling with warmth and affection. “And I am yours, my love.” She wraps her arms around your neck and pulls your body flush against hers. Her mouth ghosting across your cheek towards your ear. Her warm breath fluttering against the shell of your ear. “I just hope you realize that the next time Sansa Stark tries anything I won’t be so forgiving.”

Chuckling, you turn your head and press your lips against hers. Relishing the feeling of having her in your arms. Any other thought leaving your mind as your hold her tightly to you. 

For there would never be anyone else you would ever need.

Not as long as you had her.

[phis-corner]

I recently read your platonic brucinette post, it was amazing, i couldn't stop laughing. What if she invites herself over to the Manor or something and the boys have no idea who she is (cause I feel like he wouldn't mention her cause she would probably ruin his reputation even more since his kids would probably spread the stories to their own friends) but I feel like maybe Tim already know her since he was in Paris looking for Bruce (when he got "killed" by Darkseid), he would probably see her as a mom or fun aunt that he could vent to

Ask and you shall recieve! again, any grammar mistakes are because I did not bother proofreading. whoops.

Masterlist ◈ Original

Dick Grayson had seen a lot of unexpected things throughout his lifetime, but he really did not expect to come downstairs for a nice bowl of cereal for breakfast and find a woman who looked eerily like the late Martha Wayne sitting at the table and eating his Bat Puffs.

Wait.

“Those are my Bat Puffs!” Dick shrieks, because he has priorities. That’s the last of his cereal, okay? And it’s going to be two days before Alfred goes on his next grocery run and he’s really bad at shopping for food on his own. Sue him.

Not-Or-Maybe-Possibly-If-You-Believe-Conspiracy-Theories-Martha-Wayne simply laughs, and easily dances out of the way of his grab for the bowl, moving out of his reach with an elegance and grace that can only mean she spends part of her day dressed in a different costume. Whether or not she was a good guy still remained to be seen, considering she had somehow broken into the Manor without setting a single alarm off and was currently eating the last of his Bat Puffs. 

A truly despicable act, indeed.

“Grayson?” Damian chooses that exact moment to come down the stairs. “I heard you scream. What’s-” He snarls the moment he catches sight of Not-Martha-Wayne, pulling out a knife from somewhere in the folds of his pajamas and hurling it at her head with impressive speed and accuracy.

Not-Martha-Wayne simply ducks, letting the knife thud into the wall behind her, making Dick wince. Alfred was not going to be happy.

“Identify yourself, woman!” Damian screeches, pulling out another knife. “Who are you, and how did you get in here?”

Not-Martha-Wayne tilts her head, blue eyes sparkling with mirth. “Really? I’m not even allowed to eat cereal in my own home now?”

Dick is slowly growing more and more convinced that Not-Martha-Wayne is actually Zombie-Martha-Wayne.

Damian freezes, eyeing her suspiciously. “Your home?”

“Wh’s goin’ on?” Tim slurs, stumbling down the stairs. “Why ‘re you all screamin’?”

Maybe-Zombie-Martha-Wayne brightens when she sees Tim. “Timber! How’s it going?”

Tim rubs his eyes, once, twice, and then his face splits into a grin when he finally registers Maybe-Zombie-Martha-Wayne’s presence. “Marinette! It’s so good to see you!”

And okay, what.

Tim hurries down the stairs (meaning only marginally faster than before, he hasn’t had his morning coffee yet,) and ignores the coffee machine in favor of hugging Possibly-Undead-Martha-Wayne, who laughs and puts down the bowl of Bat Puffs in favor of hugging him back. Dick takes the opportunity to snatch the bowl away from her, mourning the fact that there’s only a bit of milk left at the bottom of the bowl.

“Good to see you too, Tim,” Not-Martha-Wayne, whose name is apparently Marinette (why does that sound familiar?) ruffles Tim’s hair. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Tim,” Dick says, at the same time Damian demands “Drake.”

“How do you know this woman?” They say at the same time (Dick stubbornly ignores that Damian replaced ‘woman’ with ‘harlot’).

“You mean you don’t?” Tim asks, frowning. “She’s-”

“Marinette,” Bruce cuts Tim off, having appeared at the foot of the stairs in his usual dramatic fashion. 

Not-Martha-Wayne-But-Still-Really-Looks-Like-Her-Whose-Name-Is-Apparently-Marinette beams and waves cheerfully at Bruce, who looks done with life. “Hey, little brother! I see you haven’t gotten tired of dressing up as a giant bat to beat people up yet!”

Well, that was a lot to unpack. Dick decided he’d start with the easiest thing.

“Little brother?” He looks from Marinette to Bruce, Bruce to Marinette, noting the resemblance in both of them to Thomas and Martha Wayne. “You mean- she’s your older sister?” Dick shrieks, turning to Bruce. “Why have we never heard about her?”

“Really, Bruce?” Marinette gasps, mockingly placing a hand over her heart. “I’m devastated. How could you, after everything we’ve been through, not even tell your hundred thousand children that I even exist?”

Bruce doesn’t reply, instead letting out one long sigh through his nose. Huh. Sixteen whole seconds. Impressive.

“Just kidding,” Marinette grins once Bruce has finally stopped sighing. “He’s never told you because I travel the world a lot, my job is super dangerous, and because I’d expose all his deepest, darkest secrets.”

“Like his greatest fears?” Damian asks. Cass, who had silently entered the kitchen at some point or another, stood behind him, ready just in case he pulled out another knife.

Marinette tilts her head. “What? No!” Like how he wiped off one of the eyebrows on Sylvia McCartney’s face when he was four-”

She doesn’t get to finish that sentence because Bruce has made a mad dash across the kitchen, evidently aiming to get her to stay quiet. Marinette dances out of his hold with a giggle and continues speaking even as Bruce chases her all around the kitchen.

“-anyway, he declared that ‘she had something on her face’, wiped off one of her drawn-on eyebrows-” She ducks underneath a plate, which Cass deftly catches before it hits the wall. “-and then went ‘There. I got it for you!’”

A shoe flies at her head. Marinette bats it away with one hand. 

Dick tries valiantly to stifle his snickers, but judging by the evil eye Bruce is giving him, it’s not quite working.

“And there was that time we were at that four-star restaurant in Star City and he ate too much and-” Marinette raises an eyebrow as she catches a toaster in her hands. “Really now, Bruce? A toaster? You know it’ll take more than that to stop me. So he ate too much and got a stomach ache, then started holding his torso and very loudly declaring that he was starting his period.”

Dick doesn’t even bother holding in the laughter this time, and neither do any of his siblings. If only Jason was here to see this, but alas, he was at his own apartment and had no clue that this was going on. Neither did Steph, for that matter, and Duke was already out on patrol since he was somehow a morning person. What a travesty.

“And then there was that time when-” Marinette is cut off by another one of Bruce’s long, very drawn-out sighs. 

“Look, Mari, I think they get the point,” He groans (well - as close to groaning as the Batman ever got), pinching the bridge of his nose. “You can stop now.”

“Oh, you’re just annoyed that you couldn’t stop me,” Marinette retorts with yet another smile, and Dick is once again struck by how similar she looks to the lady in the portrait that hangs over the fireplace in the largest of the Manor’s three living rooms. “I suppose you’re right, however. Despite the abundance of embarrassing stories, they do run out at some point, and I’d prefer not to use them all up in one go, ya know? I have to be the cool aunt. Kate can keep wine aunt, but I’m the cool one now.”

“I think Miss Katherine might disagree with that,” Alfred says mildly. “However, I do believe you can win the children over if you tell them about the time your father brought Master Bruce to his board meeting.”

The look of utter betrayal Bruce gives Alfred makes them crack up all over again.

--o0o--

“Man, I am so glad you got it all on camera,” Duke grins, placing two bowls of popcorn on the coffee table before flopping back down onto the couch. “This is going to be great.”

Tim waves a hand dismissively. “I just hacked the cameras in the Manor. Bruce’s paranoia backfired this time.”

Steph cheers and immediately makes a grab for the popcorn as Cass hits the play button on the remote, and Dick can’t help but crack a smile at his own face when he sees the last of his cereal being eaten.

“Richard, I find it concerning that your first thought was of your cereal and not the intruder,” Damian observes.

Dick ruffles his hair, drawing out a squawk of protest. “Well, what can I say? I really like Bat Puffs.”

The Wayne siblings settle down for a movie night that is definitely going to be filled with lots of laughter.

permanent tags

@wannajointhecrabcult @miraculous-simmer7 @certainmuffinbagelcalzone @fantasyislive @chocolateherringtacofan @junarvion @susiej1118 @aestheticnpoetic @toodaloo-kangaroo @ladybug-182 @itsmeevie01 @g-arya @souleateralicestein @nightstarblue @i-is-mysterious @moonystars14 @vixen-uchiha @flapdoodle-noodle @labschaos @nathleigh @jalaluvsu @kaithehero @iamablinkmarvelarmy @luveverything12 @technicallyburninggarden 

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@momothefemur @indecisive-mess-named-me @laurcad123 @ilovefluffbutsmutisalsogreat @sassakitty @fusser90

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Osborn’s 5✩ Inspiration: Interdigital Heartbeat [指间心音] Date Translation (END 2 + 3 + 4: Call Out)

“C'mon. It's a choice they've made on their own terms. You don't have to feel sad for them.“

*Light and Night Master-list | Osborn’s Personal Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *This 5✩ Inspiration has 6 Endings!! *Osborn’s tag will be #For Night, For Freedom

✥ Choice: Call Out [呼唤] ⊹Speak⊹

Do I want to join the band's celebration?

⊹ I'd rather not intrude ⊹

Although I was very interested in Seed, we were still outsiders at the end of the day.

MC: I think we shouldn't intrude on them…

Osborn nodded in assent. He turned to Liyuu.

Osborn: Go on ahead with your get together. I'll send her home early.

Liyuu smiled, giving us a knowing nod in farewell. Osborn pulled me along with him once more, following the crowd that was leaving the venue and exiting the bar.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

The roads outside were deserted and silent, much unlike how it was inside the bar. The faint breeze was refreshing as we mutually slowed our footsteps.

Osborn: I saw Liyuu's SNS that day. They're actually going to disband.

MC: Huh? But why…?

Osborn: Maybe they have more important things to focus on.

I froze, stunned, as I slowly digested this shocking piece of news. I suddenly understood why Liyuu had shedded tears earlier atop the stage.

It felt as if I'd just bore witness to the end of someone's youth. My heart filled with an overwhelming sense of loss and regret that I couldn't do anything about.

Then, Osborn ruffled my hair with a vengeance, bringing me out of my regretful musings.

Osborn: C'mon. It's a choice they've made on their own terms. You don't have to feel sad for them.

I nodded, rubbing at my own wrist in a moment of sadness… only to gradually realize that something wasn't quite right.

MC: Huh? My bracelet's gone.

MC: ...It might have fallen off at the bar.

Osborn: Let's go back and fetch it then.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

However, when we got back to the entrance of the bar, we saw that it was pitch-black inside through the unlocked doors. All the lights inside were off.

Osborn: Wait here for a bit, I'll go look for it.

Then, he turned to enter the bar. I hurriedly called out to him, stopping him in his tracks.

MC: Wait, how do you know what my bracelet looks like?

Osborn: I saw it earlier on.

MC: Is that so…

Never thought that he'd notice even something so tiny on my person...

MC: Um! It'll be faster if we have two people searching for it, so it'll be better if I come along!

Osborn: Sure. Stick close then.

I pushed open the door, the "closed" sign that hung off it swaying at the motion.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

The door slowly closed behind me as I entered the bar. The only lights here we're the sporadic lights that shone in from the street outside, passing through the wine bottles and glasses alike.

All I could see was his wide back, standing tall in the dimly-lit environment. I followed closely behind him, almost as if he was the embodiment of my predetermined direction.

After walking for a while, I suddenly caught sight of something glimmering on the ground. I quickly knelt down to see what it was. However, after getting a closer look at it, I realized that it wasn't my bracelet.

Standing up again, I realized that Osborn had vanished before me.

A wave of panic overwhelms me. I decided to call out to him…

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

⊹ E2: If you fail to call him ⊹

Osborn: Calling for me?

A faint voice called out from behind, spooking me.

MC: AHHH!!!!

I hurriedly whipped around, only to see Osborn frowning with his fingers stuffed into his ears.

Osborn: Hey! Overreacting much?

MC: Who asked you to suddenly appear behind me like that!?

Osborn: But, you're clearly the one going round in circles.

Osborn: I've found your bracelet. Let's get back outside.

I breathed a sigh of relief, trailing after him as we left the dark bar together.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

⊹ E3: If you call him OSBORN (萧逸) ⊹

Osborn: I'm here. Scared? There's a tremor in your voice.

I breathed a sigh of relief at the familiar voice. I turned and ran in the direction of the voice when I bumped right into someone's chest.

MC: Ah!

I'd only gone two steps before a hand shot out to hold my shoulder, steadying me.

A feeling of safety suddenly envelops me, further clarifying the fact that this was really Osborn. I couldn't help but clutch lightly at him.

MC: Where did you go? You scared me there!

Osborn: About two steps away from you. Saw you circling on the spot.

MC: Hey! Meanie!

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Even if all I could hear was his voice, I could still imagine the playful look that must be on his face right now. I was beyond pissed, but the ceiling lights had suddenly flickered on.

Footsteps sounded not too far away from us as a staff walked towards us, looking at us with utter suspicion.

Staff: Hey, who are you lot? Event's over.

I only realized in hindsight that I was still completely plastered to Osborn and quickly pushed him away in embarrassment.

Osborn: Do you know that if you have such a big reaction to it, it just makes you look like you're hiding something?

MC: ...Shut up, you.

Osborn raised his head and loudly replied to the staff.

Osborn: Sorry, we came here to find a lost item.

Staff: We're about to lock up, so I'll give you guys another two minutes.

MC: Okay. Sorry about that!

Searching was much easier after the lights came on, but I still turned out empty-handed from the search.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Our two minutes soon passed. I walked out of the door together with Osborn, feeling slightly regretful about it as we returned to the brightly lit street outside.

MC: *Sigh* Looks like I really did lose it.

MC: And I bought it when I went for a vacation abroad last year, at the market of a small village last year too…

Osborn: You remember it so clearly? Do you always get something as a souvenir whenever you do something that leaves an impression?

MC: Yeah.

Osborn: Have you got one for today?

MC: Uh… Not yet…

Osborn raised a hand, waving it before me. A glimmer of light fell from his fingertips just like magic before he brought it before my eyes.

Focusing my eyes, I realized something. Isn’t that my silver daisy bracelet!?

Osborn: Surprise! Now you do.

It was a pleasant surprise. Then, he lifted my wrist, lowering his eyes as he carefully returned the surprise, lost and regained, to its rightful position around my wrist. With the soft light spilling from the street lamps above, I couldn't help but feel that it appeared more exquisite than ever before.

MC: Thank you. It has not changed from being “a bracelet bought from a market overseas”, to “a bracelet that Osborn gave me”.

Osborn: Then don’t go losing it so easily anymore.

MC: Yessir~

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

⊹ E4: If you call him HUBBY (老公) ⊹

Perhaps it was the impenetrable darkness around us that gave me an unusual surge of courage, but I grew thick-skinned and yelled the one title that I’d usually never even dream of uttering.

Alas, the embarrassing name-call echoed, reverberating through the room for a long while; perhaps due to the area being too empty and quiet….

A familiar chuckle sounds from the dark.

Osborn: Hey, hey. That's a pretty nice manner of address.

Osborn: How about you yell your support to me like this during my competition? Deal? Deal.

MC: You… I'm only looking fun at you! Where'd you go? Come here. I'm scared.

Osborn: Are you? I thought you were plenty brave.

Osborn: Call me that again and I'll come right over.

MC: You—

Osborn: Be good now, dearest~

His purposefully lowered voice sounded enchanting in the dark. It rippled towards me, inciting a pleasant tingle within my being.

MC: You… Shut up, you. Enough of that already…

Osborn: But you were the one who called me that first!

Osborn quietly waited for the call to come. He didn’t seem like he was going to let up on this matter. However, the impenetrable darkness only increasingly unnerved me. I hesitated for a good three seconds before I gathered my courage and called out once more...

??: Are you guys quite done yet?

An unfamiliar voice suddenly cut in, making me freeze dead on the spot. Then, the lights above us flickered to life.

A member of the staff stood atop the stage, glaring vehemently at us with his hands on his hips.

Staff: I’m sick of seeing all you couples! Are you that bored that you’ve gotta come here just to be all lovey-dovey for kicks!?

Wha… There was a 3rd party here all along? He heard everything…

My eyes immensely darkened as I felt utterly embarrassed, wanting to disappear on the spot if I could.

I could hear the sound of Osborn’s footsteps come from behind. So he hadn’t been all that far away from me after all. Unfazed, he calmly walked up to the stage to explain the situation to the staff.

Staff: Huh. A bracelet? Is it this one?

It was only at the mention of a bracelet that I snapped back to my senses. I buried my face in my hands as I slowly made my way over, peering through the gap between my fingers.

MC: Uh… Yes. Thank you.

Staff: Take it and go; stop being all lovey-dovey in here!

Flushed red, I lowered my head in embarrassment. I was so embarrassed that I couldn’t even make out a word. Osborn only smiled as he placed his hand around my shoulders and led me out of the bar.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Another two weeks passed after that.

One night, Osborn and I were having dinner at a place near Warson when his phone suddenly lit up with a message.

He took one look at it, his face gradually morphing into one of suspicion.

Osborn: It’s a number I’ve never seen before, telling me to go to “Chimes Piano Shop”. They say I have something there.

MC: Oh? How curious.

MC: But, Chime’s Piano Shop? That’s just nearby. Won’t you know if it’s a scam or not if you just drop by and pay them a visit?

Osborn: Okay, Miss Directionless. How about you lead the way this time?

MC: Hey! This place is around my workplace! Don’t you underestimate me!

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

After we’d finished our meal, I easily led Osborn to Chime’s Piano Shop, a place that was located deep inside an alley.

Peering through the glass windows of the shop, we could see that it was brightly lit inside. Its interiors were tastefully furnished with a mix of retro and trendy, and there were a variety of brand-new instruments scattered around, being displayed out on the floor.

No matter how we looked at it, it was nothing more than an ordinary piano shop. Hence, we pushed open the doors and stepped inside.

The bell hanging from the door made a pleasant jingle, alerting the clerk to our presence. The uniformed clerk raised his head, smiling as he made his way towards us.

Clerk: Oh. You must be Mr. Osborn, right? I was the one who sent you the message earlier. I’m a friend of Liyuu’s.

Clerk: He left Guangqi City a couple of days ago and placed his electronic keyboard here before he left. He said that he hopes to entrust it to your care.

Osborn: ...An electronic keyboard?

Clerk: Over here.

Following the clerk, we stopped before an electric keyboard that was placed in a corner.

It was clean, but old, considering its slightly outdated style. It stuck out like a sore thumb despite having been placed in a corner, like an old man that possessed a good many stories.

Osborn: He wants to put something this huge in MY house? Gee, he sure knows how to trouble someone.

Clerk: He’d also said that you can give it to someone else or even leave it here for sale if it’s inconvenient for you to take it.

Osborn wearily rubbed his temples before he turned to question me.

Osborn: Do you know how to play?

MC: Oh… Just a little.

Osborn: How about I give it to you then? It's your idol's beloved keyboard.

MC: Don't want it.

He was teasing. I glared at him in dissatisfaction, taking a serious tone with him.

MC: This is the keyboard that Liyuu has used for many years, it must mean an awful lot to him.

MC: I think maybe he doesn’t intend to give up on music.

MC: You’re the one who gave him the motivation to do it, so I think that he’s hoping that you can take it under your wing. To protect and take care of this important dream of his.

MC: Who knows, maybe he’ll come back one day to reclaim it from you!

Osborn: That guy… He’s still as whimsical as ever even after all these years, huh.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Osborn glanced at the keyboard, helplessly shaking his head, as if what stood before him wasn’t his friend’s keyboard, but rather, his friend himself.

After a while, he sat down on the sofa before the electronic keyboard, slowly lifting the heavy black cover that had hidden the keys of the keyboard from view.

The keyboard had been maintained well, but the keys all shone brightly from years of wear and tear, inflicted by years of practising.

His slender, yet strong, fingers slid across the keys, gently pressing on a few.

The black and white keys played a series of pleasant-sounding notes. He lowered his eyes in thought as the sound reverberated in the air.

Osborn: "Take care of his dream for him"? ... I'm not all that noble.

His tone was reminiscent of a sigh. I shook my head and walked up, standing before him.

MC: You don’t have to bear any responsibility for this, Osborn.

MC: You might not understand, but…

MC: Some people just have to exist and do whatever it is that they wish to do. That in itself is something that those who do matter will find solace in.

You fixed your gaze firmly onto him as the thought ran past your mind.

And you, Osborn; you are that existence.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

After a while, Osborn sighed, seemingly having come to a compromise about it. He covered the keyboard and stood back up once more.

Osborn: Alright. I'll take it for your sake.

He looked me up and down playfully, his dashing eyes slowly curving upwards in joy.

Osborn: But, you've got something wrong here.

MC: Huh?

Osborn: How could I ever "not understand"?

Osborn: I’ve already long since found the one who’ll safeguard my dreams and aspirations for me.

I froze. I was just about to ask just who this person was when he bent down slightly, his piercing pale green eyes staring deeply at me.

Just as I took notice of the little figure being reflected within his orbs, I heard the notes of a keyboard ringing out in the air, resonating with my heart.

It was then, at that moment, that the answer to the underlying question hanging in the air was self-evident.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

✥ Choose your Ending:

END 1 | Choice: Do Nothing [都不做]

END 2 + 3 + 4 | Choice: Call Out [呼唤] ⊹Speak⊹

END 5 | Choice: Listen [倾听] ❖ASMR

END 6 | Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ★Night★

❖☆————— ⊹ For Night, For Freedom⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: Prologue

[jimmys-zeppelin]

ghostin'

chapter fifteen

(table of contents)

(chapter fourteen)

june 26, 1976

"We're here today with Miss Ellie Saunders, singer and writer of the newest song going up in the pop charts, Songbird! Would you like to say hello to our audience, Ellie?"

"Hi, everyone! Thank you so much, Bill for having me on."

"Pleasure's all mine. Last time we had you in the studio was...two years ago with your single, Dreamer, isn't that right?"

"Very much so! Since then lots of things have changed." Ellie chuckled, reflecting on the past for a split second.

"Yeah, you were just a wide-eyed kid who had no idea what the business was like or where you were going. Nice to see you settled down. Now, you're with Led Zeppelin's guitarist, Jimmy Page, right? How's that working out with their constant touring?"

Ellie visibly tensed. If they were there to talk about Jimmy, they should have just called him on instead, but alas she was polite and answered the question. "Yes, Jimmy and I are together," she chuckled nervously, "Well, we manage our time pretty well. He's currently away doing his stuff and I'm working on my new album, but we find time to get a phone call in before bed...middle of the night," she laughed, "we find a way."

"Adorable, you two are. So this album of yours? Got a title yet? And what kind of songs are we going to see on it?"

"Not yet," Ellie answered, but quickly saved herself, "we have a working one, but even that's under wraps for now. As for songs, they're mostly just your regular old love songs I guess. The experimental piece was actually one I plan to release soon. I really hope my fans enjoy it. It took a lot to write it."

"And the title?"

Ellie looked over to Carolyn, who sat across the room puffing on a cigarette. The brunette nodded at the blonde, allowing her to speak on the song, "Well the song is called Sign of the Times. It's about seeing a change in someone you love and having to accept it. It could be with a wife, husband, lover, friend; anyone you hold dear who you just...can't help but worry about." She explained, getting lost in her own words as she thought about Jimmy. "As you can see I'm still a bit raw about it," Ellie lightly rubbed at her watering eyes.

"Do you miss your person?" Bill asked, suddenly becoming quite sincere.

Ellie met his gaze, nodding, "I do." she said, thinking of what lie to tell people to convince them she wasn't talking about her lanky, dark-haired boyfriend.

"Well, now onto what you're here for. Tell me about Songbird, then."

"Um, well...there was a slight bit of a rough patch lately that affected me a bit. I decided to get my trusty notebook out and spew out all the words that would come. And Songbird came out of that."

"Some beautiful acoustic on there, who did it?"

"I did! Jimmy's not the only one who's well-spoken in the ways of a guitar in this relationship. Although I did want him to come play on it for me, our schedules just didn't line up." She shrugged.

"Incredible. Well, here it is, folks. The new song by Ellie Saunders: Songbird." Bill said, fiddling with some buttons and getting his turntable ready before removing his headphones, "you can take those off now." he said.

Ellie removed the bulky headphones from her hair and held them idly in her lap as her song played out to the broader Los Angeles area. She knew it wasn't the first time a station had played the song in the week or so that it'd been out, but it was different knowing that she was right there while it was playing out to thousands of people. It was daunting if anything.

"Ellie that was great. Thank you so much for coming on!" Bill said, standing to shake Ellie's hand. The singer mirrored his actions and went in for a handshake, returning the favor.

"Thank you for asking me to come on. It was a pleasure. Maybe I'll come back when Sign of the Times comes out." She said with a wink.

"Of course," Bill replied, "tell me. In confidence; off the record. Is there a title for the new record?"

Ellie contemplated her honest answer, then exhaled through her nose in a laugh before answering, "No, actually. I have no idea what it's called. I've been so focused on writing songs that...I just haven't had time to think of a title, honestly." Ellie laughed as she spewed the honest truth.

Bill laughed out loud at the comment, giving Ellie a pat on the back, "Seriously, Ellie, come back any time. New song, new album, or if you just wanna chat with me for the morning segment. It would be great."

"Thank you so much, Bill." She repeated as she started picking up her bags. Carolyn put out her cigarette in an ashtray near the microphones and gave Bill a firm handshake. The women left the building shortly after.

After they'd been settled in the car to take them back to the studio, they finally got a chance to take a breather and relax. Things had been moving at a touch and go pace since finishing the two bigger singles. The rest of the songs still needed more, Ellie thought. It often occupied her mind just what she wanted to add to each song. That and Jimmy.

Not only was she concerned about him, she found herself getting increasingly more discouraged when she spoke with him. Like she was walking on eggshells when it came to a conversation with him. If either of them said the wrong thing, the other would get set off. Ellie found herself as more of the latter. She hated arguing while they were away from each other, but she couldn't help comment about his activities. He knew her disdain of it and it seemed there wasn't much else to talk they had to talk about since their days were full of nothingness lately.

☆

Andrew came over late that night. One more song on the album had been finalized and he deemed it enough to celebrate. Five of twelve songs completed, in case anyone was counting.

"Cheers to another amazing song by my best friend." Andrew said, raising a glass of some old whiskey Ellie had had hidden in her house since she'd moved in. The blonde could hardly remember who had given it to her. It seemed it just was a part of the house at that point.

They clinked glasses and each took a sip, both inevitably coughing and gagging at the taste and giggling at their reactions. Their conversation carried on until Ellie's eyes wandered to her stack of mail. Since getting home she hadn't had much time to give it a look so she gave each letter a once-over before focusing on Andrew again. That was the plan, at least.

However, a postcard caught her eye and she couldn't help but pick it up.

'Sunset Strip, Hollywood, California' Read the front as it was decorated with a photo of the infamous Sunset Strip at night. Ellie flipped over the postcard, her eyes quickly darting past the words that had been scrawled onto the paper.

'I recall you saying something about the Sunset Strip calling your name when we went out for dinner. How about we go out again sometime soon? You can be a Dreamer about life again. Call me when you get this. 213-xxx-xxxx

Hugs, Roger

P.S. Did you get the reference of your song that I used?

P.P.S. Ask for Simon Ferocious'

The blonde furrowed her eyebrows, but was delighted at the prospect that Roger would send her a postcard. She reached for the phone, starting to dial the numbers.

"What's up?" Andrew asked, taking another sip of the blasted whiskey, to which he exhaled sharply only seconds later. He set the cup down in disgust.

"It's Roger. He's in California. Told me to call him." Ellie replied, handing the man the postcard as his hands reached out for it. The line rang while Andrew exhaled through his nose, laughing at the corny jokes made in the letter.

"Ritz Los Angeles, my name is Angela. How can I be of service to you this evening?" The woman on the other line said. Ellie was taken aback slightly at the discovery of the Ritz's hotel having been the main point of contact for Roger.

"Uh, hi. I'm calling for a Simon Ferocious staying at your hotel." Ellie said, trying to hold back her laughter.

"And who's asking?" She asked.

"Say it's Mrs. Page. He'll know who it is."

"I'll put you through."

"Thank you."

Silence came through the phone before the Hold music shortly began. An ear-raping jazz number made Ellie put the phone down as soon as the music started.

"Simon Ferocious?" Andrew asked, having come back into the living room with a near-empty bottle of blush wine Ellie had been keeping in the fridge along with two flutes. She shrugged as he poured the rest out for the both of them as the infernal jazz finally came to an end.

"Mr. Ferocious for you, ma'am." The woman said.

"Thank you," Ellie paused waiting for the clicks before Roger's familiar rasp came through.

"Mrs. Page, hm?" Roger asked.

"I heard we weren't giving out our real names." Ellie laughed, twirling the phone cord around her finger. Her eyes followed Andrew as he walked over to her record collection beside the turntable.

"Well, I had good reason. I'm staying on the down low."

"Is that it? Who's Simon Ferocious, then?" she asked as the sounds of a song she couldn't quite place by Led Zeppelin came flooding through the speakers. The song was from a  special release pressing Jimmy had gifted her when Physical Graffiti was released the previous year. Close friends and family received them. Ellie had been honored to say the least.

Roger chuckled, "A guy looking to take you out to a show. Someone there with you?"

"Just Andrew. He's my best friend—"

"And I'm gay!" Andrew shouted across the room.

"Nothing to worry about." Ellie smiled, and though Roger couldn't see it, he could sense it.

"Right. Simon Ferocious is something Fred called Sid Vicious because he was bothering him one day in the studio," Roger laughed, "Ask him about it one day, he'll get so cross about it."

"I think I might. Feel like you're not doing the story justice." Ellie chuckled. "So is Mr. Ferocious going to take me out to a show?"  She asked as Andrew returned to his seat on the floor across from the singer, munching on a cracker that was sitting on a plate.

"I was hoping to today, actually. Then I heard you on the radio this morning and thought you might be busy."

Ellie apologized for the delay, "I got your postcard yesterday, I just didn't bother to look at my mail because it was all mixed with bills and other junk that it got lost. I'd ditch Andrew for you any night."

"Bitch!" The aforementioned man exclaimed, slapping Ellie on the shoulder with a push. A bubbly, hearty laugh left her throat as she fell back onto the floor.

Catching her breath, she confessed, "We're getting a little tipsy." she giggled. "How much longer are you in LA? I'll make it up to you."

"I leave on the 5th of July. I have to be back in London so we can start the new album."

"Well let's go to a Fourth of July celebration! I think my record label's throwing one. They're usually on top of some pretty rooftops. It'll make for a great view."

"It's a date then. Keep me posted on this...roof party."

"Didn't I give you my phone number, Rog?"

"..."

"Hm?"

"I dropped the slip of paper in a puddle on the day I got here. God's honest truth, El. Which is why I sent you a postcard."

"I'll entertain that story for a while...." she joked, "I can give it to you again, if you'd like."

"Yes please." Roger said sheepishly; a shuffling audible in the background.

"626...."

---

masterlist | playlist

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