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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years ago

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Flying High, Falling Fast

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; fingering, oral, fucking, subtle creep factor, deceptive charm, the usual fare you know

This is dark!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You meet the new Captain America at an event and impress him with your homemade project, but his interest is more than friendly.

Note: We all need some dark!Sam, right? This is a pretty long one shot, just over 7k words but it was super fun to write a character I don’t get to a lot. But I hope you love him as much as me!

Thanks to everyone for sticking around and putting up with me and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

You’d never been to a meet and greet before but it seemed like the perfect opportunity to meet up with Reese. The two of you met a year and a half ago on a Discord server for PC builds and eventually waded through the awkward blank cursors to real conversations. Little updates on new additions to your machines, memes about coding, and the occasional gaming session. He became a stalwart in your mostly solitary existence between work and your empty private life.

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Reese but you felt safer meeting a stranger from the internet in a public setting. Plus, it was his suggestion. His roommate fell through on attending the event with him and you eagerly accepted the unclaimed ticket. Of course, Reese insisted it was his treat but you made him promise to let you pay for lunch.

Even more exciting, you were going to meet the new Captain America. THE CAPTAIN AMERICA. You wanted to squee but had to play it cool as you waited with Reese in the winding queue.

As exclusive as the meet and greet was, it was stiflingly crowded, even more strenuous as you and Reese tried to adjust your rapport to a face-to-face environment. You mostly ended up chuckling and struggling for some cogent thought.

“What’s in the bag?” Reese asked, finally cracking through the stunted small talk.

“Oh, oh my god, I almost forgot,” you carefully lifted the bag and opened the top to let him peek inside, “I made this last year during lockdown. It’s silly but it was fun.”

He poked his finger around the opening of your drawstring knapsack and his brows rose in surprise. The drone had taken you most of your spare time but you hadn’t yet had a chance to do more than hover it around your bedroom. It was an exact replica, or exact as you could get, of the former Falcon’s Redwing.

“Holy shit! You never mentioned it,” he said.

“Oh, well, I guess… I never thought to. I just spent about an hour or so whenever I could, getting it together. Most of the time was spent on programming,” you closed your bag and let hit hang from your elbow, “and that’s another checkbox on the nerd list.”

“Please, look who you're talking to,” he joked with a snort.

You smiled at him sheepishly and looked ahead of the bodies in front of you as the line shifted forward. He wasn’t exactly disappointing, if anything, he was exactly what you expected. Skinny with black-framed glasses and a bright tee with the Captain’s shield emblazoned across his chest. He wasn’t bad-looking and thankfully not an incel.

“So, uh, you gonna give it to him or something?” Reese asked.

“What-- uh, no, I was hoping he’d sign it actually,” you chewed your lip anxiously, “if I don’t spaz out and just walk away.”

“Right,” he scoffed, “the last time I went to one of these I almost passed out.”

“Oh? Who was it?” you wondered aloud.

“Tony Stark. But I was still in high school,” he explained, “everything else sells out before I get to it. These I got by luck. If David hadn’t swiped them, we’d be standing outside wishing we were in here.”

“I can’t believe he passed on the ticket,” you uttered.

“I’m happy he did,” Reese said, “it made it easier to convince you to meet.”

“Well… we didn’t have to--”

“I’m teasing. Sorry. I’m not very… experienced at this,” he fidgeted.

“It’s fine,” you shrugged as you moved with the line, “I’m just nervous about meeting Captain America, you know? You’re not as intimidating… but I like that.”

“Uh, thanks,” he laughed as you got closer to the table and fidgeted with the straps of your bag. You were almost there.

You stepped up when the people ahead of you cleared away and you couldn’t help but stare at Bucky Barnes’ metal hand as he signed Reese’s special edition Blip magazine. He cleared his throat and you looked the Winter Soldier in the face.

“Oh, sorry,” you slid the poster you got from the shop on the way in onto the table and he unrolled it and signed. You tried really hard not to focus on his hand, you were so curious as to how it all worked. “Thank you.”

He smiled through tight lips and said, “your welcome” before you sidled down to Sam Wilson as you rolled up your poster.

“Don’t worry about him,” Sam said, “he hates these things. I can’t take him anywhere.”

His laughter received a sharp look from the super soldier. Sam took Reese’s magazine and asked his name. You were too lost in thought to answer when he asked for yours. You coughed and sputtered as you tried to remember and Reese answered for you, adding that you were nervous.

“I, uh, oh,” you lifted your bag, “I was hoping, maybe, you might sign this instead,” you handed the poster to Reese and reached into your knapsack, “if you don’t mind?”

You carefully placed the drone on the table and his brows shot up in surprise. He lifted it just as you let it go and admired it as he leaned back, “you make this?”

“Yeah,” you answered shyly, “doesn’t have all the cool features like yours but it flies.”

“That’s awesome,” he put it back down and uncapped his marker, “where do you want me to sign?”

“Just on the top is fine,” you pointed, “thank you so much.”

“My pleasure,” he put his signature after spelling out your name and he grabbed the drone again, “hey, Buck, look at this? I don’t see any fancy arms that need signing.”

“Shut up,” Bucky grumbled and eyed the drone, “pretty cool, though.”

“Thanks, uh, well, we should get out of the way,” you said.

He handed you the drone and smiled. You began to shuffle away and he called you back to the table, “you code? Do a lot of programming?”

“Mostly just corporate sites,” you answered.

“Here,” he reached into his pocket, “send me a text. I think I know some people who’d like to meet you.”

“What?” you took the card rigidly.

“Sure, we’re always looking for techs,” he said, “and if we can’t find a spot for you, maybe you can see the real Redwing. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Wow, thank you, you… don’t have to do… that,” you stuttered.

“I’d be stupid not to,” he waved off your protests, “you go have fun, you two.”

You backed away and turned to walk away with Reese as you shoved your drone back in your bag with the card, numb with disbelief.

“Wow, I can’t believe…” you trailed off as you mind wandered.

“Me either,” Reese said oddly, “that’s… wild.”

You looked at him and smiled. He didn’t look mad, only serious. You tightened the neck of the knapsack and slung it over your shoulders.

“So what are we doing for lunch?” you asked.

🌠

In the two weeks since you attended the meet and greet, you and Reese kept up mostly online, many arrangements interrupted by your real life responsibilities. It wasn’t until you offered for him to come with you to the SWORD labs that he had any free time for you. After a stressful text exchange with Captain America, you were too anxious to go alone and he was more than welcoming when you asked to bring a friend.

You stood on the subway as Reese sat and played his Switch. He was jittery as you kept your own nerves hidden just beneath the surface. You found it easier to stay standing as you felt as if you might combust if you sat.

“This is so awesome,” he said as he zipped his Switch up in its case, “thanks for inviting me.”

“I figured I owed you since you got the tickets for the meet and greet,” you said, “and it’s been a while.”

“Sorry about that, work’s been nuts,” he stood as you approached your stop and held onto the pole above your hand, “I kinda skipped out on half a day for this.”

“No,” you frowned, “you didn’t have to--”

“And miss a chance to see the real Redwing? Come on,” he scoffed.

“Oh,” you hung your head, “yeah, I guess that’s worth it.”

“I didn’t mean-- I’m happy to see you too, it’s just kinda a big deal,” he said as you approached the door with the few other passengers readying to hop off.

“No, I get it,” you hooked your thumbs under the straps of your knapsack as the doors slid open and you stepped out onto the platform, “I just… I couldn’t go alone. It’s so… scary.”

“Scary? Jeez, Captain America invited you to a job interview!”

“No, that’s not--”

“Uh, yeah, that’s exactly what it is but I promise, I won’t get in the way,” he said as you head for the concrete stairs, “maybe if he needs an extra coder I might piggy back.”

“Uh huh,” you came up onto the New York sidewalk and came into view of the immense SWORD building, “well, I don’t think it’s all that.”

“So why’d you bring this?” he tapped your bag as you neared the large glass doors and men in suits with coiled wires at their ears squared their shoulders.

“He asked me to,” you said as you were approached by one of the big security guards.

“This isn’t public entry,” he said sternly, “no tours.”

“I have an appointment or… I’m expected,” you pulled out your phone and pulled up the electronic pass Sam sent you, “see?”

“Hmm,” he eyed it and took your phone without asking. Another guard came and scanned it with his phone, “checks out but we’re gonna called down Mr. Wilson and get confirmation.”

“Oh, okay,” you fidgeted as he made no move to return your phone. Reese seemed to shrink as the two men spoke into their headset and nodded at each other.

“Hey,” the glass door burst open as Sam appeared and strode towards you, “hey, sorry, these guys are such buzzkills,” he approached and patted one of the men on the shoulder, “they’re with me.” He assured and waved you after him.

“Um, my phone,” you said to the taller man with the buzzed head. He tilted his head wryly and held out your cell between two fingers. You took it and followed Sam to the doors.

“Anyway, we were just going over some basic maintenance today and I thought you might like to observe. See everything that goes into keeping me and my toys in the air,” he smiled as he held the door and nodded at Reese, “nice to see you again, man.”

“You too, Cap...tain,” Reese answered dumbly.

“Sam is fine,” he chuckled back and tailed the two of you across the lobby as he pointed you towards the elevators. He made Reese look even more like a stick bug. “You bring it?”

“Yeah, it’s in my bag,” you stopped yourself from popping your knuckles out of nervousness, “thank you so much for this. I usually work in cubicles so… uh, yeah… I don’t know what I mean.”

“Hey, don’t be nervous, you built that thing all by yourself? I’m sure you’ll fit right in,” he said.

You got off the elevator and had to hold in a gasp at the shining laboratories as the hi-tech equipment gleamed through the glass walls. Sam led you down the curved staircase onto the lab floors as techs and assistants in both lab coats and starched suits milled around the tables along the edge of the room.

“Hey, Greta,” he called out as he showed you to a metal table, “get a look at this.” A woman with twisted red hair approached as Sam tapped his fingers on the table, “show her,” he urged you.

You swung your bag around and took out the little red and silver drone. You placed it in the middle of the table and the woman, Greta, tilted her head curiously.

“You said you can make this thing fly, right?” Sam asked as Reese watched from the other side of the table.

“Um, yep,” you unlocked your phone and brought up the beta app you designed, “just…”

The drone rose slowly and steadied before you as it hovered over the metal. Greta lifted a dark brow and ran a nail along her chin thoughtfully, “cute.”

“Ah, come on, tell me that isn’t awesome? She did it all by herself,” Sam boasted, “so, what do you think? She’d be a great tech, huh?”

“Tech? I…” you blinked and giggled, that was absurd.

“Does she have a resume? A list of her credentials, at least,” Greta rebuffed.

“Greta,” Sam warned playfully, “I’m her credentials. I’m giving her a reference right now. Hire her.”

“What?” you mumbled under your breath and you saw Reese’s eye cling to Sam darkly, almost enviously.

“You know, if I hadn’t let that kid go for hi-jacking the alpha, I’d tell you to go back to breaking your toys,” she warned, “but I trust you and… I cannot say I’m not impressed,” she narrowed her sights at the floating drone, “how long did this take you?”

“A year or so,” you answered, “it was… just meant to be a hobby but--”

“Well, make it your life,” she said tersely, “Wilson, you deal with HR, Sheila likes you better.”

“Leave it all to me,” he grinned and she walked away.

“Here,” he turned back to you, “I’ll show you the operating system for the real deal.”

He ushered you and Reese over to a computer after you lowered your drone. The real Redwing sat on a module next to the screen and Sam punched the keys and took a hooked earpiece from a small stand, “put this on.”

You slipped the earpiece on as he revealed a bracelet and adjusted it on your wrist, a small ring looping up your index finger.

“Bend your finger,” he said and you did it, “lift it up, back… like that.” Redwing rose and you watched in amazement, “tilt your head…” the drone aimed in the same direction as your head, “now back,” it flew higher, “just like that. You’re getting it.”

You steered the drone in a circle and Sam helped you maneuver it back down. He let you hand the controls over to Reese who had more fun with it and nearly took out one of the workers. He apologised and Sam just chuckled, though it didn’t sound so amused.

When Redwing was back in its place, Sam took you all around the room to show you every gadget; his wings, his suit, all his little weapons, and even pulled up some Wakandan schematics of Bucky’s arm. Much of it wasn’t in English however and you could only decipher what was visually laid out.

He left you there for a moment as he excused himself to chat with a tech about his wings. Reese huffed and leaned against the wall. You were quiet, mostly stunned, though your usual reticence could also be blamed.

“I don’t think you should’ve brought me,” he said, “I told you it was a job interview.”

“I didn’t know, I thought you would enjoy it,” you felt awful as Reese had given up trying to hide his jealousy.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, “well, it is pretty cool but…”

He was interrupted as Sam returned, “sorry about that, guys, I kinda messed up one of the engines on the wings on my last mission.”

You smiled and said it was fine. You hadn’t expected so much attention and thought it would be a brief little show and tell, not an entire tour. You returned to the table where you left your drone and shut down the app. You packed up your Redwing, it felt lighter but you were sure you were just imagining things as your head spun. You looked down at the bold signature across the shell and knotted the drawstring above its nose.

“Sorry, I…” you took your bag from the table, “I hate to bother but is there a bathroom I can use.”

“Oh yeah, just head back up the stairs, left of the elevators,” Sam pointed above, “we’ll wait here, there’s one last thing I wanna show you.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back,” you headed for the stairs and latched onto the railing before you could trip upwards.

You bumbled up the stairs and after a brief moment of blankness, you found your way to the bathroom. You quickly slipped into the stall and spent a minute at the mirror after washing your hands to get your head straight. It felt like a dream, or worse, a joke.

You headed back out and Sam was waiting just by the elevators to your surprise. You pursed your lips and glanced around, “where’s Reese?”

“Oh, yeah, uh, he left,” he said as he shoved his hand in his pocket, “said he wasn’t feeling it.”

“Really?” you shrunk, just a little, “erm… that’s too bad.”

“Yeah, kinda weird, I don’t think I’ve ever just ditched a girlfriend in the middle of the city,” he said.

“Girlfriend? Well… it’s… it’s early,” you rubbed the back of your neck, “I hope he’s okay.”

“Damn, I hope he didn’t ruin it, I still wanted to show you the shield,” he intoned, “but if you’re not feeling up to it--”

“No, no, I’m here, that would be awesome,” you forced a smile.

Had you done something wrong? Was it rude to invite Reese and have all this rubbed in his face? You thought he’d feel worse if you didn’t invite him. Your doubts flurried in your head as you stepped onto the elevator with Sam, chewing your cheek as you tried not to show your disappointment.

You were brought back to the present as the metal doors opened and Sam nudged you as you stared right through the open space. You stepped out ahead of him and he caught up and walked beside you as he explained what was hidden in every room; mostly offices and training gyms.

He unlocked a door at the far curve of the circular hallway and jiggled until it opened. He pushed it open and the lights flicked on automatically.

“Bucky,” he grumbled, “he almost took the handle right off… so now I gotta fight it.”

“Oh,” you entered as he beckoned you inside and you looked around the spacious office.

“You know, there’s lots of paperwork when you take out a whole bridge, even if it is an accident,” he laughed, “and it gives me a place to show this off.”

He went to the wall where the shield was held on small metal hooks and slid it out easily. The vibranium sung in the air as he turned to you and held it out.

“You wanna?” he asked.

“Sure…” you murmured as he turned it around and held it so you could hook your arm through the straps. He let it go and stood back to look you over.

“It suits you,” he said, “got your own Redwing and you hold that like a real champ. Maybe it’s time I step aside.”

You laughed nervously and shook your head. You peeked down at the metal and lifted and angled around as you admired the smooth curve.

“Thanks,” you offered it back to him and he took it with one hand, “for everything.”

“You’re taking the job, right?” he prodded, “it’s perfect.”

“Mmm, well, I got a job--”

“Better than here? Better than suiting up the Cap?” he chided.

You bent your ankle under you and swayed on your feet. It was a great opportunity and way better than your desk job. It just felt like you didn’t deserve it.

“I need an answer. Greta doesn’t like indecision,” he said.

“O-okay, okay,” you surrendered, “I… if I said no, I’d feel even worse.”

“You won’t regret it, promise,” he said, “if you do, Redwing is yours. The real one.”

“No, no, I’m…” you rocked as you gripped the straps of your knapsack, “I’m sure I won’t.”

🌠

Your two weeks notice rolled by. Your boss was less than pleased by the sudden departure but you didn’t care much as you wouldn’t have to deal with him for much longer. You wrapped up your last day with your replacement and left feeling free, though the anxiety of your job loomed on the other side of the weekend.

In those weeks since your visit to the SWORD facility, you hadn’t heard much from Reese. That night when you messaged him to make sure he was okay, he didn’t say much more than ‘just tired’. After that, he was always offline when you signed onto the server and all your co-op requests were declined. You were ready to give up.

Oh well, it was an online thing anyway, you were stupid to think it could work out.

But you were not entirely isolated. To your surprise, you got several messages from Sam, you still couldn’t help but think of him as Captain America and feel like you had nothing interesting to say to a hero. When he found out you liked to game, he even joined you for a session on headset but again, you were hyper focused and quiet. You were flattered that he was trying to make you feel welcome, that he even bothered to get you a job, but it all felt so above you.

When you got home that night, you logged in and sent a request to Reese, just one last attempt. He didn’t even respond, even after fifteen minutes of waiting. You shut down your PC and grabbed your switch instead. You changed as the system updated your Animal Crossing and flopped onto your bed.

You laid across the mattress, one leg over the edge and the other bent. You ran through, planting, fishing, and selling as you tried not to think too much. You’d done enough of that lately. You zoned out as your eyes narrowed at the small screen but in your peripheral, you felt a shadow move. You shrugged it off as the sunlight playing through the curtains and rolled onto your side to ignore it.

You kept on, ready to log out as you didn’t want to spend another Nook Ticket to go to and island and get nothing but flowers. You heard a subtle whirring and glanced over at your computer. It was sleeping and it was never that loud. You noticed that light shift again and turned. There was nothing. Nothing but your dresser and the signed drone, just as you left it.

You squinted and turned off your Switch. You went out to the front room to drop it back in the dock. You stretched and grabbed your phone from your purse to put in an order for some take-out. You stopped as you noticed Sam’s unanswered messages.

‘Whatcha doin’ tonite?’ and several that assumed you must be busy.

‘Sorry, got caught up gaming,’ you replied guiltily.

Your phone shook before you could close out of the chat and you answered as Sam’s name flashed across the top.

“Hello?” you squeaked.

“Hey, hope I’m not buggin’ you but I thought-- stop, Jesus Christ, sorry, we’re on our way to dinner and we hoped you might join us.”

“We?” you echoed.

“Oh, ha, yeah me and Bucky, Greta, and some of the techs. Not too many of us but you’re more than welcome,” he said, “since you start on Monday, it will be good to get to know some people.”

“Y-yeah, for sure,” you answered. It felt more an obligation than an invite. You didn’t want to come across snobbish or lazy even if you’d rather eat fried noodles and watch some trash reality TV.

“Great! I’ll send you the address,” he growled and hissed under his breath, “sorry, again, I’m just dealing with this-- I’ll see you there. Save ya a seat.”

He hung up abruptly and you stood dumbfounded staring at your jacket. You dropped your phone back into your purse and headed back to your room. You had to find something to wear that didn’t seem like you were trying too hard or not trying enough.

As you entered, that same whirring floated through the air and suddenly stopped. You looked around confused; not a fly, not your PC acting up, nothing. You grimaced at the poster with the star emblem across it and went to your dresser to pick out an outfit. It was probably the neighbour fucking around. Apartment living was rarely peaceful.

🌠

The restaurant was bustling as you were met by the hostess at the door. You told her you were there to join the party from SWORD. She showed you to the table and Sam saw you above the din and waved to you then shoved Bucky over on the cushioned bench.

“Right here,” he pointed as he waved you over and stepped aside to let you past. You sidled along and sat, apologizing to Bucky as he rolled his eyes, “not too late.”

You gave your drink order as a waiter came by and shrugged out of your jacket, letting it bunch up around your back. Sam offered his menu and introduced the people you didn’t know at the table; alongside Bucky and Greta, were Xan and Wyatt. You said hello and opted for the fiesta salad as you set aside the menu.

“Are you excited?” Sam asked.

“For what?” Bucky huffed, “she’s gotta put up with you.”

“Hey,” Sam took the lemon off the rim of his glass and tossed it at Bucky, “he lightens up… sometimes.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky grumbled but you could hear the humour in his voice.

You sank into the background as the night went on. You spoke up when you were called on but felt it hard to assert yourself, especially with someone as outspoken as Sam beside you. Still, he made sure to make you feel included when you started to feel forgotten. For that you were grateful and he was right, it made you feel a little less anxious about your first day.

As you came out onto the sidewalk, your wallet painfully lighter, you bid goodbye to everyone but Sam hung around. You clutched your purse and peered down the street.

“Thanks for inviting me,” you said.

“Ah, you know what, I shoulda asked that guy, Reese? How’s it going with him? He your boyfriend yet?”

“Ha, no,” you sucked in your lip and took a deep breath, “I don’t even think we’re friends anymore.”

“Oh no, what happened?” he asked.

“I dunno,” you said wistfully, “but it is what it is.”

“He’s missin’ out. You’re a cool girl,” he said, “building drones for fun. Kinda why I had to snag you, you know? Someone with your skills, that’s dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” you chortled, “no.”

“Well,” he checked his phone, “how are you getting home?”

“I’ll just take the train,” you said, “my place is only about a ten minute ride from here.”

“You sure? I can give you a ride,” he said.

“Nah, really, you’ve done… more than enough.”

“Alright, well, see you Monday?”

“Monday?” you wondered.

“I’ll pop in before I head out,” he said, “got a mission so I might not be around more than that.”

“Okay, Monday,” you confirmed, “see ya.”

🌠

Monday was a whirlwind. It started on a high as Sam suited up and showed off his wings before he headed up to the jet pad. Greta muttered that she was happy he’d be out of your way before she went through the task of getting you acquainted not only with the tech but with their workplace rituals. It was a lot to take in but you did your best to absorb every word and second.

When you got home, you had a folder full of notes and spent too long going over them before you remembered the groan in your stomach. You ate a lazy super of Kraft Dinner and lazed across your bed doing nothing but watching Youtube tutorials on your tablet. You fell asleep early and woke to your alarm and a dead tablet.

You got up, got dressed, ran out, and did it all again. The first week dragged by and yet it felt like you didn’t have enough time. On Friday, you got home and fell across the couch in your work clothes. You held your phone above you and scrolled dozily through your feed.

A dot popped up and you flicked over to your notifications. The selfie you posted on your first day at the lab with Sam in his suit had lots of hearts but your first comment was less than pleasant. Beside Reese’s icon was all caps: MUST BE EASY SLEEPING YOUR WAY INTO A JOB!

Your heart pattered and you sat up. You deleted the comment but another soon appeared; several as you kept deleting and finally blocked him. ‘Slut, whore, dumb bitch…’ it was the last thing you expected from him.

You opened Discord and clicked on his chat. ‘What’s going on? Why are you doing this?’

The text flicked across the bottom that Reese was typing but he stopped and you sat there for what felt like forever before his response popped up.

‘I can’t believe you brought me all the way there to rub my face in all that shit. And for what? You should’ve just told me I had no chance and I woulda left you alone. If you wanna fuck Sam Wilson, do it, but don’t chain me along like your little bitch boy. Get fucked slut.’

You flinched as you read it and re-read it. You typed shakily as your eyes watered. ‘I’m not fucking Sam and I wouldn’t. I brought you there because I wanted to and thought you would like it. I didn’t know you felt so strongly about it. But I see what you think of me so I only wish you the best and hope you find peace.’

You sent the message but just as quickly, you were blocked from sending any more. You tossed your phone and fell back against the couch. That must have been why he took off but you couldn’t figure out how he thought you of all people were sleeping with Sam Wilson. Really? He was just another incel after all.

You phone jangled with your annoying ringtone and you grabbed it, expecting to be insulted by Reese again but it was Sam calling. You really weren’t in the mood to talk with him. You just wanted to be left alone. But you couldn’t just ignore Captain America.

“Hello?” you answered.

“Hey, I just got back in town. Whatcha doing?” you could hear the wind in the speaker.

“Just got home. I’m exhausted. Probably gonna just nap.”

“You okay?” he asked after a moment.

“Fine,” you said dully.

“Don’t sound fine,” he said, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you insisted.

“Oh, so it’s not what that boy said on your photo?”

“You saw that?”

“You tagged me, remember?”

“Oh, yeah, no, it’s…”

“Shit, don’t listen to him. He’s just a boy, he blew his chance and he’s bitter about it,” he said, “how about I come over, make sure you’re really okay?”

“No, I don’t think--”

“Ah, come on, don’t make me worry all night about you,” he chided.

“Sam, you really--” There was a knock at the window and you froze. “Sam?”

The line clicked and you heard the tapping again. You lowered your phone and went to the window. Outside, geared up in his wings and suit, Sam hovered before the glass. You blinked and he rapped again. You snapped out of your shock and unlocked the window and slid it up.

“What are you doing?” you asked, “wait? How do you know where I live?”

He grabbed onto the frame and hooked his leg through as he retracted his wings. He bent under and sat half-in and half-out of the window, “forgive me? I did a bit of snooping in HR.”

“I told you not to come. I really don’t feel up to-- It’s really weird that you’re here,” you sat as he ducked pulled his other leg through and stood, “Sam, I think you should go.”

“You shouldn’t be alone, especially after that moron sending you that shit,” he said coolly as he took off his tinted goggles.

“Well, I want to be alone, so you should--”

“I mean, I haven’t even fucked you yet and he’s jealous,” he snickered, “so I guess we should give him a real reason.”

“What are you talking about? That’s… gross. You should go--”

“Come on, girl, you think this was really about a drone,” he tossed his goggles down and set his shield on the chair as he strode around the room, “convenience. I want you close.”

“I don’t--” you looked down at your phone, “get out, Sam.”

The tone of your finger pressing ‘9’ sounded and he spun quickly to face you. He stormed over to you before you could hit ‘1’ and ripped it from your grasp.

“You’re gonna call the cops and say what? I’m Captain America,” he snarled, “but you can just call me Cap.”

He winked and threw your phone out the window smoothly. You gasped as he chuckled and lifted his wings off his back. He leaned them against the wall and stretched out his shoulders. He looked around as he twisted his tongue between his teeth.

“I like this, looks cozy,” he toed the side of the couch with his boot, “look better with you on it.”

You watched him stroll around the coffee table as he unzipped the collar of his suit. The scene was like some tainted nightmare. Maybe you’d fallen asleep. You were so tired you must have just passed out but you weren’t waking up.

You spun around and ran into the small hallway that led to your door. You were caught from behind, pulled back by the nape of your blazer as Sam tutted. His arm went around your waist and he lifted you off your feet. He turned and carried you back into the front room. You kicked and writhed as his strength enwrapped you.

“Please, please,” you begged, “I… I don’t understand. This isn’t-- this isn’t what I wanted. I didn’t--”

“Baby girl,” he cooed as he brought you close to the couch, “be good and listen to your Captain. Now stop this.”

“No, no,” you gulped at air as the panic rose in you, “I never-- please, you don’t have to do this--”

“You gotta do what I say,” he snapped and flung you onto the couch, “I don’t want to make you.”

You looked at him as you trembled in fear and disbelief. This couldn’t be. He was Sam Wilson, the Captain America; he was a nice guy.

“You have one minute to get naked,” he said and you just gaped at him, “you gonna make me repeat myself?”

Your throat tightened as his dark eyes bore into you. His hand balled to a fist and finally you found an ounce of strength. You pushed your legs over the edge of the couch and slipped out of your blazer. You stood carefully and watched him cautiously. You had to look away as your hands quivered over the buttons of your blouse.

You turned and folded your shirt over your blazer. You could hear him behind you as you unbuttoned your pants and pushed them down your legs. The question of what you were doing flitted through your head but the fear pulsed through you and took over.

“Ah,” he sighed and you peeked back as he freed himself of the top half of his stealth suit.

You turned back and hesitated. You knew there was more, you knew what he wanted, but your body locked up as your fingers curled and your insides knotted.

“Let me get that,” he came close and his fingers tickled along your shoulder blades and he unhooked your bra, “hmmm,” he let go and the cups fell off your chest, “almost there, baby.”

He stepped back and you shuddered. You dropped your bra and hooked your fingers under your panties. You wiggled them down a little at the time and heard the intake of breath as you pulled them down entirely. You stood still, unable to move, too mortified to face him.

“Come on, baby,” he said, “get comfortable.”

You inhaled and turned slowly. You went to the couch as he shed his undershirt and added it to the pile atop his shield. He looked at you and tilted his head as he licked his bottom lip. He snarled as he took in the sight of you and pointed you to the couch.

You sat and hugged yourself as he stripped off his pants along with his boxers in a single swipe. You flicked your eyes away as you glimpsed his hard dick as he stood straight and you stared at the open window. You smushed your lips together in horror and held in the tide of tears.

He came closer and you tried to tune out the room. This couldn’t happen. It just couldn’t. You felt his hands on your knees and he urged your legs apart. You resisted for a moment then let him guide your limbs. It would be over sooner if you just let it happen.

He knelt on the floor as his hands kneaded along your thighs and framed your vee as he leaned over your lap. You winced and he kept your legs from closing as he pushed his body between them. His thumb grazed your folds and he pushed between them. You let out a hushed gasp as he swirled around your clit.

“See, it’s not so bad to be good, is it, baby?” he purred, “you’re wet already.”

He slid his thumb up and down and spread the wetness along your cunt. You were shocked and humiliated by your obvious arousal. You shouldn’t be turned on by this. Your body was not listening to your mind, it was obeying his touch.

“Mmm,” he hummed as he turned his hand and poked along your entrance with one finger.

He pushed inside and you clenched around his intrusion. He pulled in and out and added another finger. Your nails clawed at the cushion and you pressed back into the couch. He kept his thumb on your clit as he worked his fingers inside of you and the tension clustered between his fingertips.

“Oh, baby, listen to you,” he bet forward and replaced his thumb with his tongue as he kept fingering you.

You turned your face up to the ceiling and squeezed your eyes shut. You bit your lip as the ripples radiated from your core and your breath hitched. His hand moved faster as he suckled at your bud and his free hand groped your chest blindly. You slapped your hand over your mouth as you came, your back arching as you pushed into him.

He teased you through your climax and pulled away only as you quaked and whined at his unyielding touch. He drew his fingers out of you and sat back to lick them clean. You peeked down at him and quickly away as his eyes blazed back at you.

“Up,” he stood and stroked himself shamelessly as he strode around the coffee table, “put your hands on there.”

You rose unsteadily, legs shaking beneath you as your entire being felt like jelly. You went to him and turned your back to him. You bent over and he grabbed your ass and squeezed with a growl. You gripped the table and hung your head as the cool air grazed your cunt.

He shoved his hand between your legs and rubbed you again. He stepped closer and bent his knees as he lined himself up with your entrance, sliding in between his fingers as he spread you wide. You choked as his tip poked inside and he eased himself inch by inch into you. He held your hip as he reached his limit and groaned.

“Baby, oh god damn,” he thrust so that your whole body jerked. It was painfully delightful. Of the few men you’d been with, he was the biggest, or at least the thickest.

He rocked slowly and a moan escaped your lips. Despite the torturous pressure of his intrusion, you could ignore the pleasure laced in the pain. His hand brushed up your as and along your back. He bent over you as his fingers curled over your shoulder and he pressed his body to yours as he fucked you.

You kept your head down as you tried to measure your breaths and the pathetic noises rising from you. He pushed his hand down your stomach and between your legs again to play with your clit. He moved his legs against yours and forced them together so your cunt hugged him even tighter. He grunted and you whimpered as his fingers added to the new pressure.

He sped up so that the table scraped against the floor but kept you up with one arm around you. He rutted into you wildly as his sultry voice filled your chest and his heat consumed you. You cried out as another orgasm swept through you and your cunt quivered around him desperately.

He pulled you up suddenly so you stood on your toes. He tilted into you as he brought his arms up around yours and tined his fingers behind your head. His flesh slapped yours loudly and you opened your eyes as you heard a familiar whirring. The drone flew before you, the signature on its shell, but a light blinking at its nose. Yours didn’t have a light.

“What--”

“Ah, yeah,” he rasped through rampant breaths, “looks like they got mixed up.”

“Huh--” you sucked in your breath as he thrust harder and deeper.

“I didn’t mind, he helped me keep an eye on you,” he said as he nuzzled you above his hands, “you look so cute in your little tee shirts.”

You groaned and leaned your head against him as another rush of fear was met with unwanted bliss. You murmured senselessly as he picked up his pace and the drone came closer. He purred as you felt his muscles tighten.

“Don’t worry,” he puffed, “I’ll make sure the boy knows he was right.”

He buried himself in you, nearly taking you off your feet, and twitched as he emptied himself into you. He rocked his hips subtly as he rode out his climax and stilled you as his voice gristled to rampant pants. His arms fell to embrace you and he kept you flush to him as he lingered inside.

“Or I can keep that little video to myself…” he brought his hand up to cradle your chin and poked his finger along your lower lip, “it’s all up to you, baby.”

#sam wilson #dark sam wilson #dark!sam wilson #one shot #sam wilson x reader #fic #dark!fic #dark fic #tfatws #falcon #captain america #mcu #marvel #bucky barnes #avengers

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dingletragedy · 4 years ago

Note

kiss on the neck/back kiss? for the prompt list? i love ur writing so much!!!

here have a kiss on the back and the neck and a whole bunch if friends to lovers feelings!!! thank you sm ni, i really hope you enjoy x

say it first - ao3 link

“So, how's Walford treating you? Are you coping without the obviously better Highway brother?”

“Well,” Ben starts, smirk already plastered on his face, avoiding the seriousness of Callum’s eye no wonder. “My Dad is still Phil Mitchell, my brother is still Ian Beale and, oh, the obviously worst Highway brother is still my neighbour. So yeah, coping just fine.”

“And I’m still your best friend in the world, right?” Callum asks tentatively, ignoring Ben’s dramatics. He meets Callum’s eyes again, so open and trusting, lashes all spindly and soft in the fading light.

“You’re more than that Cal,” Ben whispers soft as he shifts, rolling onto his side, back facing Callum now. “You’re the spice to my girls.”

For a moment, Callum thinks that’s it, another day gone, another wave of secrets and feelings swallowed. But then Ben’s hand brushes his stomach, fingers in search of Callum’s wrist laid there. His fingers wrap around the spot in which the watch Ben brought him for his eighteenth birthday usually occupies, and he pulls Callum’s arm to loop around his stomach.

Calum shifts himself too then, he’s laying firmly on his side, knees bumping the back of Ben’s shins for an awkward moment before they figure it out, Ben’s foot falls to brush between Callum’s legs. Callum curls the fingers of his free hand gently into the sheets and tries to breathe. They’re so much closer, now, touching here-and-here-and-here.

“Ben,” Callum hums, a soft puff of laughter leaving his mouth, one of almost wonder. “That is simultaneously the cheesiest, weirdest and most you thing you’ve ever said.”

“Shut up,” Ben laughs, shoving an elbow behind and into Callum’s stomach. Callum just rolls closer now, wriggling in the sheets until they finally settle again. Ben’s fingers are resting in the cup of Callum’s palm, and each time he shifts the soft drag of his thumb, it makes Callum’s chest clench up. “I don’t care, anyway. You’re my very best friend and I don’t want to go home.”

“Stay, then,” Callum says, however superfluous a thing to say it may be. “Stay another week at least.”

“I can’t,” Ben sighs, sighs right against Callum’s hand that he's brought up to his own, parted mouth. “I have to go home.”

Home can be here. Right here with me, that spot in my chest. Callum can’t say it, he won’t. He isn’t cruel enough to.

But it’s been so long, and he thought he was doing a good job of convincing himself during their time apart that this is the way everyone feels when they go months without seeing their best friends, or that he was too attached, and once he settled where he is, he’d be fine with the distance and their strictly friendship.

Only here, the two of them alone in Callum’s tiny halls room, with the rest of the world on pause, he knows he’s lying to himself for ever thinking he’d get over somebody like Ben just like that.

“I’ve had the best time with you being here, y'know?” Callum says, softer now. He’s taken too long to say anything. He’s just watching Ben idly from behind, their hands knocking and fingers brushing where they're laid over Ben's heart. “Thank you for coming. I know you had to save a lot of money for your train ticket and all that.”

“Don’t be daft, there’s nothing I’d rather spend my money on,” Ben says. “Not even a new car.”

In the dark, all Callum can make out is the slope of Ben’s shoulders, and the slow rise and fall of his chest. He shifts himself down the pillow, hiding his own face and stretching smile that’s found its way there. Ben makes him feel so vulnerable sometimes, even if he doesn't mean to.

He lets his eyes close, edges of weariness starting to creep in now. It’s still raining outside, sparse taps on the window. He can hear Ben breathing, and he almost considers holding his own breath just to listen to it a little better, to memorise the pattern so he can match it when he has to be on his own again.

It’s been three months since he moved, three crazy, stressful, terrifyingly wonderful months, and God, Callum thinks, maybe he made the wrong choice applying for a university nearly two hundred miles away, after all.

Some days he wakes up and he goes for a walk because staying in bed thinking about a boy hundreds of miles away won’t ever do him any good.

But now that boy is here, lying just across the sheets. And he’s leaving tomorrow night. Gone again, just like that. He just wants to know, somehow, someway, that they’ll always see each other again. Always be each other’s everything.

(He can’t waste another chance.)

“Ben,” Callum whispers, but Ben's suspiciously quiet now, finger relaxed between Callum’s,pulse slow. It’s so late, he knows, and Ben’s tired enough as it is from the journey up here, but the thought of missing a moment awake together is terrifying for so many reasons.

(He won’t waste another chance.)

“Mm,” Ben hums, breathing shifting.

The rain is picking up again. Outside, a lone car sweeps down the street, a brief flash of yellow light that jumps in through the window like a spike in a pulse, sudden and bright.

“I really missed you,” Callum admits, the vulnerability of nighttime and tiredness cracking him open, turned inside out like a raw nerve. “Like, so bloody much.”

For months he’s been pinning up pictures on the walls and scrolling aimlessly through his phone and wondering if this is really it, if he’s been destined to just love Ben forever, from anywhere, any distance. Destined to hope they might one day feel that way, too.

“Don’t make me cry,” Ben says teasing, voice muffled against the pillow. Callum can almost see the smirk pulling at his lips, shy and beautiful. But there’s something else laced in Ben’s voice, something tight and gruff, Callum recognises it instantly, it’s that voice he always puts on when he doesn’t want Callum to see him upset. “I never knew I could miss a person like I miss you.”

It’s so much, and Callum just has to be a little closer, and closer still. He has to let himself tip forward so his forehead rests between Ben’s shoulder, the expanse of his back warm and familiar.

There's a stillness then, Callum’s eyes falling closed, lashes falling soft over secret freckles. They’re touching here-and-here-and-here and Callum’s Spotify plays I think I'm lost without you, I just feel crushed without you. And then, then there’s a moment, a breathy noise of anticipation, a soft brush of a foot and a wave of coconut shampoo, before finally, and gently there’s a press of cracked lips to the soft of a boys skin.

It’s barely a whisper of a touch, but Callum hears Ben inhale, feels him tense as his lips softly brush his back.

Callum pulls back in a second, this terrible feeling flushing down his entire body like a rush of ice water.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he babbles, too loud in their little bubble. Ben, I–I didn’t mean to–”

“Cal,” Ben says, hoarse, and he turns in an instance. Body flushing impossibly closer to Callum’s as Callum’s arm falls from Ben’s stomach. His hand finds Callum’s cheek, hot to the touch, then slips back into his hair. “Come here, yeah?”

“Ben—”

“Sh,” Ben whispers, and Callum feels the warmth against his bottom lip, this barely-there buzz. “Just—just come here.”

Ben’s eyes flick down to his lips, backlit by a blue and silver glow. Callum’s stomach is flurried and warm with want, little embers flaking down his chest to his toes. He feels fuzzy, like he’s wading through a dream.

This time, when Callum leans towards, his lips meet something different, something new entirely. Their mouths touch molten and soft, yet cautious, Callum’s bottom lip caught wetly between Ben’s. His fingers gradually start to twist in Callum’s hair, pulling him closer and closer.

“Ben,” Callum breathes between kisses, trying to ground himself. He finds Ben’s hip, feels brave enough to slip his thumb under his joggers and touch his skin, and that alone is enough of a spark to catch the bed up in a gulf of flames. At that, Ben’s fingers curl at the back of Callum’s head, and Callum back into the pillows, urging Ben to follow.

“How long?” Ben says as they part to breathe, just to breathe, their faces still pressed up close.

“So long,” Callum says thickly, body shifting up when Ben kisses him firmly, thumb against Callum’s jaw to part his mouth. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

“I’m sorry,” Ben breathes past his lips, muffled by another kiss. “‘For all my talents and knowledge, I’m so fucking clueless.”

“Shut up,” Callum whisper-hushes him, tries to pull him closer again, but Ben shakes his head lightly and just stares down at Callum in the dark, fingers in his hair. “Ben, it’s fine.”

“Why’d it take you leaving Walford to make me realise I don’t wanna be without you,” Ben says tightly, shaking his head at himself. “We could have–”

“No. Don’t do that, okay? It doesn’t matter because we’re together now, yeah?” Callum says, because he’s spent enough time worrying about it for the both of them. Back in the now, their mouths are both shiny, bodies slotted so warm and close, and all Callum wants to think about is this. Them. Together. Comfortable and close in each other’s company after so long apart.

“Okay,” Ben whispers, the words lost against Callum’s jaw, wet kisses to his neck, back up to his waiting mouth. “Now stop talking and kiss me some more.”

He blinks up at Ben, notices that syrupy grin slowly pulling up at his cheeks, and it’s enough to dissipate the small knot of sadness that’s trying to grow in Callum’s chest, that knowing feeling that it’s going to hurt even more saying goodbye to Ben this time than it did the last.

“Sure,” he says, drawing a lazy circle against the side of Ben’s hip with light fingers. “I mean, if you really want me to.”

“Think I do,” Ben hums, smug, their noses bumping, and it’s such a soft gesture that has Callum melting back a little more into the pillows. “Think you’ve got some lost time to make up for.”

“You think so?”

“Just maybe,” Ben says, and he laughs when Ben nips gently at his neck, fingers tucking into his sides.

They stare at each other for a moment, and Callum just lets it rush over him, lets himself go. He tells himself to stop thinking, to stop worrying, to put himself in the here and now; not tomorrow, not when they have to say goodbye, when he knows he’ll cry at the train station, when he’ll miss Ben so much it’ll make his heart ache.

Right now he’s got to let himself be happy. Ben's mouth twitches, eyes resting gently and Callum knows that he’s happy, too.

When he slowly opens his eyes, flickering madly over Callum's own, his voice is barely there. “Is it too soon to say that I love you?”

Every single nerve ending in Callum’s body lights up, blood pulsing through him in a mad rush, a mad scramble, to process the sudden bang in front of his vision, like fireworks. He shakes his head vigorously and kisses Ben hard.

“No,” he breathes, and he feels like he’s about to cry again.

“I think I do,” Ben says. “No. I know, I know I love you.”

“I love you too,” Callum chokes out. “Ben, I love you so much."

#this is what i've spent my whole friday night doing please like it #ben x callum #ballum #eastenders #mywords #fic #oceandawning

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utopianvoices · 5 years ago

Text

fortuite | k.hongjoong

∞ genre: roommates au; fluff

∞ word count: 5.36k

∞ description: Something had been bugging you for quite some time now—and no, it wasn’t the bug infestation in your room.

∞ a/n: happy birthday to the sweetest, prettiest and bestest friend, @curanonemu! i’m sorry for being a lazy ass and not posting this earlier but i hope you like it, darling :’) i love u so much hehe! x

∞ warnings: explicit language

There were very few things that could ruin your day; you believed that patience and endurance was the key to living a happy life. So other than the occasional bad grade or last minute assignments, you were sure nothing else would upset you.

That’s what you thought; until you walked into your shared apartment, just to see half the things missing. More specifically, your roommate’s things.

With confusion taking over your mind, you walk around your apartment slowly, trying to find for any explanation of what was going on when you reach your fridge, noticing a bright pink post-it that definitely was not there when you grabbed your breakfast that morning.

Peeling it off the cold surface, your eyes scan over the piece of paper in your hand, covered in a messy scribble that definitely belonged to your roommate. You’re not sure why, but your heartbeat picks up its pace as you take in a deep breath before reading.

You’re not sure what was happening, but you sure were smart enough to figure out that it was nothing good.

Dear Y/n,

I’m sorry for leaving without a word, but my parents have called me back to stay with them during the semester break. I would have waited for you to get back, but my flight was in the morning and you weren’t in so I had to leave. Sorry, love! Hope you aren’t too surprised >< I’ve left my share for this month’s rent in the envelope on the counter, so don’t worry about that! Hope you aren’t too upset with me <3

Love, Haeun

Staring blankly at the piece of paper in your hands, your mind tries to process what you just read, when it all comes crashing down on you in three mere seconds.

You had just been abandoned by your roommate for the next few months or so, without any prior notice.

Firstly, you hated living alone. Everyone knew this. Even the cat a few blocks down knew this. Secondly, and most importantly, you were definitely not going to be able to afford your weekly rent alone.

Thoughts of being homeless flashes through your mind as you stare at the paper in your hands, when you notice something written at the back of your post-it. Just as you turn over the post-it in your hand to read what was written, your doorbell rings, causing you to whip your head up towards the door.

Maybe it’s your roommate, coming back to say that this was all the end-of-semester prank and that you’re not going to be stranded all alone.

Opening the door with high expectations, you feel your world crashing down around you when you’re met with an unfamiliar face.

“Sorry, I’m not interested in buying your products,” you recite monotonously, shutting the door before the boy could finish his sentence. You aren’t usually this rude; most of the time you throw them a sweet smile and say that you’re broke and can’t afford their products. But this wasn’t any other day.

Taking a few steps away from the door, you finally read the little extra note at the back of the post-it, horror filling you up as the words register in your brain.

P.S. I know you can’t live alone and the rent is too expensive, so I’ve found a replacement roommate for you for the time being! His name’s Kim Hongjoong and he studies in the music department. He’ll be coming around 3 to move in!

Great. So now, on top of your roommate moving out, you’re going to have to deal with a whole new dude that you’ve never even seen, who’s supposedly coming at 3pm, who’s not here even though it’s 3:05pm- Wait a moment.

You slowly look up towards the door that you had just shut a few moments ago, deeming the guy on the other side of it to be a poor salesman, and take slow steps towards it.

Grabbing the handle with shaking hands, you slowly open the door to reveal the same guy you had shut the door on. Except now, he was scrolling through his phone seated on one of the many boxes you had failed to notice earlier.

At the sound of the door opening, he looks up from his phone, immediately scrambling up and rushing towards the door.

“H-hey don’t close the door on me, I’m not here to sell anything! My friend, Haeun, told me that I would be moving in here since my roommate was leaving during the break and I couldn’t afford the whole rent!” he went on rambling, not even stopping for a breath in fear that you would shut the door on him again and he’d be left stranded.

You feel the embarrassment rise up to your cheeks as you fight the urge to run into your room and never come out, but you will yourself to say something to the poor boy you had just shut out a few minutes ago.

“Are you Kim Hongjoong?” your voice comes out hoarse and barely above a whisper, and you feel the embarrassment reaching the top of your head. Clearing your throat, you repeat the question again, somewhat glad that you didn’t sound like a dying frog anymore.

He nods his head at your question and throws you a sheepish smile, scratching the back of his head as he looks around the corridor in embarrassment, allowing you some time to take in the boy in front of you—who happened to be very cute, to your horror.

Your brain was never going to let you live this down—the fact that you had just slammed the door in this extremely cute boy’s face. Another thing to add to your ever-growing list of “Embarrassing moments that make you want to kill yourself”.

“Do you need help with the boxes?” you ask, wanting to do anything that would distract you from the very cute face in front of you.

“Huh? Oh, yeah sure! Thanks!” he says, seemingly snapping out of his own reverie as he shifts around to get to the first box.

Both of you work in silence, walking in and out of the apartment till all his boxes were in his room, as the awkward tensions remains. You stand around the kitchen counter fiddling with your thumbs while he sits on the sofa looking around the apartment for the tenth time. Anything to keep you occupied.

Letting out a sigh, you finally decide to be the first one to break the silence.

“I’m sorry for slamming the door on you earlier,” you start, feeling the need to apologise. “Haeun left without telling me and I started freaking out about what I was going to do without a roommate because I’m broke.”

As if he was waiting for you to initiate a conversation, Hongjoong looks up almost immediately, shaking his head before starting to speak.

“No, no it’s fine! I can understand how stressful it must have been,” is what he says, laughing slightly at the end of his sentence, thinking of the shit he’d been through when his roommate left. “I was a mess when my roommate left too. I started calling around to check if anyone was willing to be my roommate when I heard from Haeun that she needed someone to move in with you. Of course, I accepted right away.”

You giggle at his words, unconsciously nodding along as the conversation starts flowing between the two of you. It was like someone had flipped a switch, and now you weren’t two awkward strangers. Instead, you were two potential friends (and roommates), having a conversation.

“Well, I hope that we can make the most out of being roommates!” you say, clapping your hands together, content with the fact that you wouldn’t have to live for the next few months alone. “Need a hand unpacking your things?”

And you’re sure the sun would pale in comparison to the smile you just received from the boy sitting across you, perfect teeth in full display as he shoots you the most breathtaking smile you’ve ever seen.

“I would love that, roommate.”

ii.

“Joong, we’re going to be late!” you shout out into the apartment, hopping around on one foot trying to keep your balance as you put on your shoes. “Get your ass out right this instant!”

“I’m coming!” you hear faintly from Hongjoong’s room, and soon after you see your roommate rushing out in one of his many reformed shirts, looking handsome as ever. “What time’s the movie starting?”

“Six.”

“It’s only four right now.”

He looks at you incredulously, unable to understand why you had to be two hours early for a movie that was playing just a few blocks down.

You, on the other hand, had very different views.

“Look here, it takes us 20 minutes to get there. And then we’d have to queue to get tickets and snacks, which might take us long considering the fact that it’s semester break and all the dumbasses that go to our college will want to go to that one specific theatre. And then of course, we have to take some mandatory time playing at the arcade before the movie starts because that’s what you’re supposed to do.”

“I’m going to make you rap over one of my tracks one day.” He stares at you in awe, wondering how you can ramble on without even stopping for a breath. “I can’t believe I’ve heard you do that almost everyday for exactly three months.”

“Shut up and let’s get moving.” You threaten him, trying to hold in your own laughter as you point your fingers at him in a makeshift gun, triggering a chuckle from him as he plays along and puts up his hands in surrender .

“Okay Ma’am.”

He’s known you for three months and he should be used to your antics—but it still never ceases to surprise him. In a very good way, of course.

When you slammed the door on him three months ago, there were many things running through your mind. The murder of your roommate, how you were going to manage without a roommate, the murder of your roommate, how you hated being alone, and the murder of your roommate.

But never would you, in a million years, have thought that you’d find one of your closest friends through that little mishap. Thinking back on it, even though your introductions weren’t through the best, most ideal way, it was natural—almost as natural as the flow of time. Never stopping for anyone, but at the same time filling you up with memories you would forever be grateful for.

It was the perfect weather outside, you note, as you walk along the stone pavement.

The sun was shining brightly, but not too brightly that it made you want to turn back home and down a few ice cubes to neutralise the heat. The cool breeze that accompanied the sun made it the kind of weather people would kill for when on a date.

And you were the lucky few who got to experience that weather. With the guy you had a humongous crush on.

It was all too cliché, actually. Falling for your roommate who was handsome, kind, caring, thoughtful and smart? Absolutely unoriginal.

But it’s completely different when you’re in that position. You really can’t help the few beats your heart skips when he made you breakfast because you stayed up late finishing assignments the night before. Or that one time when you fell asleep on the couch watching How To Train Your Dragon and you woke up with a comfortable pillow under your head that saved you a lot of pain and a fluffy blanket that protected you from the cold—both of which were not there before.

It also definitely didn’t help your poor heart when Haeun announced that she had decided to move in with her boyfriend, after years of being together (and of course, after confirming that you and Hongjoong didn’t hate each other).

So here you are, stuck with an annoyingly handsome and sweet roommate, who didn’t do much to help the not so little crush you were harbouring. In fact, you’re sure that it grows bigger significantly every single day.

“What do you think about love?” Hongjoong asks, finally breaking the comfortable silence and putting a stop to your inner ramblings.

It might’ve been weird to anybody else—if he were to suddenly ask that question—but you were used to these random questions, because that’s how he found inspiration for his songs.

“Hm, I don’t really know,” you start, pondering over his question as you both take slow, matching steps beside one another, a sweet scent gracing your noses as you walk past a flower shop. “I guess it’s something that everyone needs. Whatever kind of love it may be. It shapes us as humans and helps us live a better and more content life, I guess. Love can save lives, and maybe that’s why I think it’s the strongest emotion anyone can feel.”

“You’re really wise, you know?” he states, giving you a soft smile as he stares at you, eyes twinkling under the brightest star. “I still can’t believe how lucky I am to score a friend and roommate like you.”

Your cheeks welcome the heat rushing into your cheeks as you hit your friend lightly on the arm, mouth agape as your mind blanks out and you’re unsure of what to say to his sudden confession.

Through the months of knowing him, you’ve never heard Hongjoong say anything as direct as this. He had his moments of sweetness, always helping you out when you were having problems and listening to you rant no matter how late. But never once did he express his thoughts as explicitly as this. And you had no idea how to react.

So you settle for your usual comeback, crossing your arms and avoiding his eyes, consequently missing the way he looked at you, eyes filled with love.

“Shut up, fucker.”

iii.

“I can’t believe you made me watch that stupid movie,” you say, kicking off your shoes as you hear your favourite laugh ring in your ears. “You know I don’t like horror movies and yet to choose one. I couldn’t even get rid of the mental images during dinner!”

“I’m sorry but I just love to see your reactions every time we watch one.” He guffaws at your annoyance, clutching the table for support as tears escape his eyes.

“Good night.”

You huff, walking into your room and slamming the door with a frown on your face, but not genuinely feeling the annoyance you were portraying. You knew you could never be mad at him.

You hear a faint ‘good night’ from outside your door followed by a door shutting, indicating that it was the end of the day for the both of you.

With a smile on your face, the day replays in your head and you settle in bed, laying wide awake as memories of you and Hongjoong plays in your mind one after another, like a self-directed movie.

Everything’s fine, till you feel something crawling up your leg, triggering an immediate reaction from you as you jump out of bed flicking whatever it was, off your leg.

If you thought the horror movie you watched earlier was bad, this was a hundred times worse.

Because right there, on your bed, you see three small cockroaches crawling around freely, claiming your bed as free real estate as they make themselves comfortable.

Your first instinct is to walk a few metres down and bang on Hongjoong’s door to get him to help you, but you remember that he has an early class the next day and decide that you will deal with this issue on your own.

You may be a coward, but you still were a good friend, and good friends don’t spoil their friend’s precious sleep.

Grabbing the insecticide that you kept under the sink in your bathroom, you walk back to your bed to gas those little demons when you feel your heart drop.

The pests were nowhere to be found.

Going through the ten stages of grief, you open your closet to grab the extra blanket you kept in there for emergencies, ready to spend your night on the couch when you feel your soul leaving your body for the third time that night.

You’re not what people would call a hopeless coward. You definitely could kill the occasional cockroach without too much of a fuss. But there was no way you could handle the whole colony of cockroaches in front of you, because trying to gas them would just results in them crawling all over the place.

So with not much choice, you rush towards Hongjoong’s room, knocking incessantly because there’s no way you were dealing with those satans alone.

iv.

“One week? ONE WEEK?!” you shriek, clutching the ends of your hair as Hongjoong gets off the phone with the pest control centre. “I have to be out of my room for a week because some idiots couldn’t find anywhere else to lay their eggs?”

Stifling a laugh at your words, your roommate pats your shoulder trying to comfort you. “I can help you get your things out of your room if you want. And you can take my bed, and I’ll take the couch?”

You feel a bit better at his suggestion, thankful that you were not in this alone, but nevertheless tell him that you can handle yourself.

“I can take the couch it’s fine. I’m not picky with where I sleep anyway.”

“We both know that’s a lie,” he deadpans, shooting you a knowing look. “You can’t fall asleep on the couch unless you’re dead tired because you’re so used to the bed.”

“Shut up.”

“Wow it’s almost like I’ve heard that a million times!”

“Shut up.”

“Million and one!”

You throw him a glare as he doesn’t bother controlling his laughter—something he seemed to be doing very often around you.

“Here, I’ll make you some tea while you set up the couch properly so that you don’t sprain something while sleeping.” With that, he moves to the kitchen and takes out the necessary ingredients to make you your favourite cup of tea.

You felt guilty, of course you did. You felt guilty for every nice thing people did for you.

But you couldn’t stop the way your heart swelled whenever he did these things for you. He had an early class tomorrow, and yet here he was, making your dumb ass a cup of tea at two in the morning.

If you knew better, you would’ve thought that he likes you. But you didn’t know better.

Because Kim Hongjoong was head over heels in love with you.

Tossing and turning, all you feel is the dull ache all over your body because of the couch’s hard and uncomfortable surface, and you know you’re in for a long night. The fact that you had an early class the next day didn’t help your desperation to fall asleep too.

Maybe taking the couch wasn’t the brightest idea you’ve had.

Snatching your phone from the table, you scroll through your music playlist, finding for songs to play to help set the mood for your sleep, when you remember something. Immediately, you exit the music app and press a few buttons, opening up a page with a single file.

Aurora_Sample_KimHongjoong.mp3

It was the first ever track Hongjoong had shared with you, coinciding perfectly with the day you realised your feelings for him.

“Please please pleaseeeeee!” You whine, following your roommate around, hot on his heels as he continuously shakes his head, indicating a strong ‘no’. “Just one song!”

“No way!”

“Fine! I’ll just sulk here until you show me a song,” you say, plopping down on the couch with crossed arms and a pout.

“Sure. I don’t care.”

His indifference lasted for a total of two minutes before he let out a defeated sigh, kneeling down in front of you, placing his hands on your knees.

“It’s not that I don’t want to show it to you. I’m just not confident enough…” he trails off, looking down at his hands. “What if you don’t like it?”

The frown on your face dissipates as you look at the boy in front of you, looking completely beat because of his worries, and you instinctively take his face in your hands, heart hammering against your ribcage the moment you make contact.

“I won’t like it,” you start, seeing the hurt seep into his face, but you continue anyway. “I’ll love it—because whatever you put so much time and effort into will definitely turn out amazing. Plus you’re Kim Hongjoong. Producer of the century.”

He blinks at your kind expression, before slowly breaking into a small smile of his own. You stare at each other for what seems like eternity, before he puts out his hand, palm up.

“Give me your phone.”

You look at him confused, but hand over your phone anyway, watching him almost run into the room.

A few minutes later, he returns with your phone and some headphones. Your eyes follow his figure as he returns to his original position of kneeling in front of you, as he places the headphones over your ears and taps play on your phone.

A subtle, soft tune surrounds you, goosebumps erupting all over your body as his voice embraces your ears. Before you know it, you’re closing your eyes and swaying slightly on your body’s own accord as the music takes over your mind. You’ve never felt this at peace before.

And it was all because of his song.

The last note plays, and you slowly take off the headphones, meeting Hongjoong’s expectant eyes. “How was it?”

You let out a slight chuckle, shaking your head slightly as you stare at your roommate. Something warm takes over your heart as you look upon him, making you shudder slightly at the sudden change in temperature. You feel the heat creeping up your body, but not finding it in you to break the eye contact. It was like a magnet—the way his eyes drew you in.

“It was amazing.” You say gently, and the way his face lights up makes you realise two things.

Kim Hongjoong was a fantastic producer.

And you were in love with him.

The couch suddenly feels less burdensome as your favourite tune fills the empty living room, immediately relaxing your body as the song acts as a relaxant. Your eyes droop as you feel sleep welcome you, and you’re about to give in to it when something catches your subconscious mind’s attention.

With your eyes closed, you hear the faint sound of footsteps growing louder every second, till you feel it stop right in front of you. The couch dips with the weight of someone’s elbows, but you still keep your eyes closed.

And you’re glad you did, because there was no way you could have handled what came next.

“I really hope you’re sleeping.” Hongjoong’s voice is the last thing that fills your ears before you feel your hammering heart come to a complete stop.

Something, a pair of lips to be exact, lands on your forehead, pressing against it in a soft kiss, and you feel your whole body on fire, which doesn’t extinguish even after he moves away from you.

Waiting until you hear the sound of his door closing, you open your eyes wide and stare at the white ceiling above as you try to slow down your breathing. Yelping in pain, you confirm that you were not dreaming after pinching yourself.

What just happened?

Safe to say, you didn’t sleep a wink that night.

vi.

The next morning, you sit at the kitchen counter, stirring your tea lifelessly as you stare ahead, the previous night’s events playing over and over in your head like a broken cassette.

“I hate to say this, but I told you so.” You jump at the very familiar voice, heart going wild as your mind controls start to fail. How were you going to face him without exposing the fact that he was all you were thinking about?

No, get your shit together. There’s no way he can find out.

With some new conviction, you manage to look up at Hongjoong, already feeling the conviction melt away because of how stunning he looked, even at ungodly hours.

“You look like someone bashed you in the eyes, Y/n. Why didn’t you come sleep in my room?” he enquired further, taking a seat on the bar stool opposite you, munching on his bowl of cereal. He freezes halfway, as if coming to a realisation. “W-wait are you uncomfortable? Oh my god, if you’re uncomfortable with me asking this you don’t have to sleep with me- I mean, sleep in my room! Wow, I can’t believe I didn’t pick up on the signs I’m so dumb what am I-”

“Kim Hongjoong, shut up.”

“...... Million and two.”

You burst out laughing at his reply, immediately lightening the atmosphere that was weighed down by Hongjoong’s dumb worries.

“I’m not uncomfortable, you idiot. I just don’t want to intrude! Plus, there’s no way I can let you sleep on that rock of a couch when you already get so little sleep from producing,” you explain, patting the top of his hand for extra reassurance.

“Then sleep with me,” Hongjoong finalises, immediately stuttering when he catches your wide eyes. “I-I mean like not with me, I mean we can share my bed, yeah, that’s what I mean.”

You giggle quietly as you take in his rosy cheeks and quivering eyes, as he fumbles over his words to make sure that he doesn’t sound like an idiot, although it was too late for that. Though, he was the cutest idiot you ever had the pleashure of meeting.

“Okay, dumbhead.” You amuse, ignoring the sirens wailing in your head.

Sharing a bed with your crush? Fate, what are you playing at?

vii.

You’re very much surprised.

Sharing a room with Hongjoong went way better than expected. But perhaps that was because you always fell asleep before him. He always stays up working on music till the sun rises, and there’s no way you have the strength to stay up.

On your sixth night, however, things are a little bit different.

You enter the room, calling out your roommate’s name when you cut yourself off as fast as you can as you take in the sight in front of you.

Hongjoong was curled up on his side of the bed, his breathing even, indicating that he was fast asleep. Not wanting to wake him up, considering the fact that he must’ve been exhausted to fall asleep this early, you tiptoe around the room, grabbing whatever was necessary before slowly lowering yourself on your side of the bed.

You plug your phone in before settling in, grabbing your side of the covers and pulling it over you. It was still pretty early, and you weren’t feeling tired enough to fall asleep, so you turn around in your spot to face Hongjoong, grabbing the opportunity to admire your friend without seeming like a creep.

Your eyes travel from his hair, that looked like a bird’s nest with the number of times he had run his hands through it—a sign that he had been producing something before sleeping—to his lips that had landed on your forehead a few nights ago.

Did he like you? Or was it seriously just a dream? Whatever the answer was, you knew there was no turning back with how strong your feelings were for him. He was imperfect, but in the most perfect way. He made up for his flaws with his beautiful heart, and you’re sure you must have saved a country in your previous life to be able to meet such a human.

Looking at him, you’re filled with an overwhelming urge to do something. And you’re not sure what that something is, until your body moves on its own, getting closer to Hongjoong’s face, till your lips are barely a centimetre away from his cheek.

But right before they make contact, Hongjoong turns his head, and your lips collide with his, causing your whole world to turn upside down.

You almost fall off the bed with how fast you move away from him, aghast at what just happened. There’s no way you’re going to be able to face him ever again. You’d rather sleep in that cockroach infested room than share a bed with your crush, whom you had just kissed on accident.

Not even stopping to grab your phone, you’re almost off the bed when a hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you back onto the bed, your back flat against the bed as you look up and meet a certain pair of brown eyes.

Uh oh.

You’re sure your face is completely red as Hongjoong stares down at you, your hands pinned down by your head as he hovers above you, the intensity in his eyes making you look away at anything but him.

“Y/n, look at me.” You hear him say, but you turn your head away even more, if even possible. “Please.”

Maybe it’s the desperation in his voice, but your eyes slowly travel back to face him, not knowing what was going through his mind due to the blank look on his face.

This is it. This is how you lost your roommate. All because you couldn’t control your dumb crush.

“I’ll move out tomorrow,” you offer, tears already welling up in your eyes at the thought of being away from Hongjoong. “I’m so sorry, I really didn’t mean to do it.”

You’re about to pull your hands out of his loosened grip when his grip tightens again, and your vision is obstructed as he slowly leans in.

Your lips touch softly, before he presses against you a bit harder and you automatically respond, kissing him back. His lips mould against yours like it was meant to be there, perfect for each other, and you’re sure your soul was flying somewhere in the ninth cloud.

You curse yourself for the disappointment you feel when he pulls away, unsure of what just happened. He rubs his nose against yours softly, before your eyes find each other, drinking in the image of the other.

“Well, I definitely meant to do that,” he states matter-of-factly, before pecking your lips once more. “And I’ll mean it every single time I do it.”

You stare at him, shocked at the way things were unfolding. Never would you have expected this.

“You like me?”

“No, dumbhead, I love you.” He says it with such sincerity that you can’t help but look away, a smile finally gracing your features as his words ring in your head.

“Shut up.”

“Seriously, you’re going to hit two million at this rate.”

You both take one look at each other before bursting out in laughter, mostly in relief that the elephant in the room had been tackled.

Hongjoong lets go of your hand before laying next to you, pulling you closer to him and wrapping his arms around your waist, as your head rests on his chest, enjoying the sound of his quickened heartbeat.

“I love you, Y/n.”

“And I love you too.”

You get an idea; leaning upwards, you place a kiss on his forehead, lips lingering for longer than a second.

“In return for the kiss you gave me the other night.”

And for the umpteenth time that night, you can’t help but laugh at the horrified expression on Hongjoong’s face, because he had just been caught.

“You were awake?!”

“Of course! Who even falls asleep on that stupid couch?”

“Why didn’t you say anything?!”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

He shoots you a look, and you decide to stop teasing him, muttering a “Okay I’ll stop”, and snuggling closer to him as you thank your lucky stars mentally.

You really had the best roommate, crush, and now boyfriend.

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #kim hongjoong imagines #kim hongjoong scenarios #kim hongjoong #dee scribbles #hehehehe *shouts into the distance* I LOVE CURA

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what-is-your-plan-today · 5 years ago

Text

CSI: Rogers and Barnes- The Serious Cereal Serial Killer

Episode 3- Return Ticket

Co written with @icanfeelastormbrewing

Episode Summary: So Katie’s back, and she’s not happy. Steve’s Ma slaps him, and Bucky makes a new friend in the Morgue… Episode Warnings: Bad Language words.

Episode Pairings: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark (yeah really hates him in this one!)

Song for Episode: The Man Who Can’t Be Moved- The Script

A/N: This entire series contains dark humour (CSI + Brooklyn 99=CSI Steeb) Avengers and Stark Spangled Banner Easter Eggs and jokes. You don’t need to have read the SSB series to understand or enjoy this, but we’ve used the Universe to spin this off from so somethings might puzzle a few of you if you ain’t, but feel free to ask.

Also, our knowledge of American Policing and Brooklyn is limited, so bear with us if we slip up, but at the end of the day this is a fiction so we’ll claim any mistakes as creative license!!

As always we live for re-blogs and comments.

CSI Rogers and Barnes Master List

Main Masterlist

“So Cap’s bringing in a profiler?” Natasha asked, leaning against the counter, smirk curling across her lips. “Anyone we know…”

Bucky looked at her and arched an eyebrow “You tell me Romanoff, you don’t miss a damned thing around here…” He concentrated on adding a spoon of sugar to his coffee.

“Must have been a good trip to DC…” Clint continued. Bucky picked up his mug and was about to reply when Thor’s booming voice sounded out over the small kitchen area

“Little Stark! What are you doing here?” “Ask your Captain.” she sighed

“Wait, you’re the profiler?” Wanda asked, and Bucky didn’t fail to notice that the girl’s previous smile that had been on her face during their discussions about the weekend had lost some of its genuineness.

“Surprise…” Katie shrugged, her voice flat.

“Did you know about this?” Wanda looked at Bucky who hesitated.

“Oh he knew…” Katie narrowed her eyes. “He came to DC with Rogers on Thursday, trying to convince me to come back. I said no. But guess what? They went over my head…” “Woah, woah, woah doll face!” Bucky said, holding his hands up “I told Steve not to do that. Nothing to do with me.” “You’re guilty by association, Barnes.” she snarled. “And don’t call me doll face.”

The look that Clint and Thor shared didn’t pass Bucky by, and he suddenly realised exactly what Steve had said about her being downright scary when she was angry.

“Hey, come on Little Stark…” Thor said, playfulness in his tone “Is it that bad coming back to work with us?”

“You guys ain’t the problem.” She said, turning to look at him. “You know that I love you all. It’s Captain Dickhead that I’m really not enamoured about working with.” “You guys really fell out hard didn’t you?” Thor pressed.

“You could say that, where is he anyway?”

“Right here.” a voice said from the doorway and everyone turned to see Steve dressed in a casual grey t-shirt, leaning on the wooden frame, arms folded. “Wanda, can you set the briefing room up please. Sam and Tony are joining us this morning. Everyone, I want you in there in 15.”

He noticed Katie deliberately looking anywhere but at him, and he took a breath.

“Katie, can I have a word?”

She looked at him, her face stoney “You can have several, don’t think you’re gonna like any of them though.”

He raised his eyebrows at her “Well I wouldn’t expect anything less…” She rolled her eyes and gestured to him with her right hand, silently instructing him to lead the way. He turned and she followed, without so much as a word.

“I would not wanna be in his shoes…” Clint grimaced, and Bucky found himself agreeing.

Steve reached his office and stopped, gesturing for Katie to enter before he did, and once the pair of them were inside he shut the door.

“Look, I know you’re pissed…”

“Pissed doesn’t even come into it Steve.” she glared at him. “How fucking dare you.” Steve simply remained still and silent, he knew he had to let her get this out of her system.

“I told you no.” she said, shaking her head “I told you I didn’t want to come back, that I had a job to do in DC…but you just couldn’t leave it. You couldn’t stand the fact someone for once in your life told you no…” “Katie…”

“No, you don’t talk. You get to listen.” she snarled “Now I’m here, thanks to whatever strings you got Fury and Pierce to pull and more over thanks to you and your inability to simply stay the fuck away, my career on the line…” “Woah, hang on…” Steve frowned, stopping her as he took in what she said “What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said!” she looked back at him “It was made perfectly clear to me that if I didn’t do what was asked of me here, I could kiss any further progression goodbye, so thanks for that…”” “I had no idea that’s what Pierce was gonna do.” Steve sighed, shaking his head “he said he’d pull a few strings, call in a few favours that’s all, not threaten you!” “And you believed him?” she snorted “The guy is a bigger asshole than you, and that’s saying something…”

Steve grit his teeth.

“So I behaved, I didn’t kick up a stink about coming for that reason, but that does NOT mean I’m happy about it.” she continued as she looked at him “As far as I’m concerned this changes nothing. I’ll be professional and courteous but the rest of it, forget it. You speak to me about work, and work alone, you got that?”

The hostility she was radiating was scorching into his soul, but he knew this was what he deserved. He’d treated her like shit, and then gone behind her back to pull her onto a case that he could have gotten someone else to do the profiling on. But he hadn’t wanted anyone else, he’d wanted her. And the reason for that hadn’t been entirely selfish. He’d meant it when he’d told Bucky she was the best profiler he’d ever know, and that the team respected her. That said, there was a small part of him that had wanted her back because he missed her. Now, any hope he had that they might be able to work through this, get some version of the friendship they had back had just flown straight out of the window.

“Understood.” he said, his voice quiet and as even as he could get it. She looked at him again, and for a second he thought she was about to say something else about it but she didn’t. Instead she drew herself tall, her chin tipped upwards and she looked at him.

“Will that be all Captain?”

He nodded “Dismissed Sergeant.”

She gave him a curt nod, pulled the door open and walked back into the main office, her question to Wanda about where her desk was cut off as the door shut behind her. Another thing Steve realised he had to sort. With a silent groan he ran his hands over his face and remained frozen, eyes glued to the door that had just hut behind her. He was pissed at Pierce and his bully methods, that’s not what he had wanted to happen at all. But then, deep-down Katie was right, Pierce had always ruthless and from previous history wasn’t too fond of the Starks either. He should have known that he’d pull something like this. That said, they had a job to do now and he was damned if he was going to put up with Katie being a brat and giving everybody hell during the investigation. Even if he deserved being treated like that the rest of the team didn’t.

And he wasn’t looking forward to the first time he had to pull her up on her attitude either…

He rolled his shoulders, his tense muscles stiff, before he closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. After a few seconds he let out a deep breath and moved to his desk, gathering the case files which were beginning to pile up. He was checking his phone when the door slammed open and a more than furious Tony came barging in.

"You had to bring her back, huh?" Tony yelled his eyes full with rage.

“Tony..." Steve was about to tell him to calm down but stopped himself. They say the worst thing you can say to a person you want to calm down is just that, "Calm down" and that may or may not be true for everyone, however, if said person happens to be a Stark, it is not only true but it’ like one of the amendments to the Constitution.

"Oh, don't Tony me, Rogers!" Tony hollered back and Steve was very aware the door to his office was open. He shook his head, he was the damned Captain around here and enough was enough.

"Listen, Tony!" Steve raised his voice, his tone authoritative as he spoke. "I know you're upset, but trust me, she's the best for the job, you know that too." he continued. "This has nothing to do with....ummm, with..." ok so now he was struggling for words.

"With nothing, Rogers!" Tony interrupted. "You complete and utter fucking..." he began to rant but was cut off by Steve's stern voice this time.

"Tony! I'm your Captain and won't tolerate anyone, not even you, speaking me in such terms." he said clenching his jaw and looking directly into Stark's dark brown eyes.

Tony hesitated for a moment before shooting back. "Exactly, you're our Captain, nothing more. And don't forget that when you're around her because I swear to God Rogers that if you lay one finger on her...."

Tony threat was interrupted by the sound of Wanda clearing her throat. Steve looked at her over Tony's shoulders and Tony turned around to face the woman who was perched at the open door holding a coffee mug emblazoned with the NYPD coat of arms.

"Sorry, the door was open." she said softly. "Briefing room set, Steve" she announced looking at his boss with a worried look.

"Thanks, Wanda" Steve said. "Tony was just leaving."

Tony shook his head giving a last glance at Steve and walked through the door past Wanda, who handed the coffee mug to Steve with a shy smile on her face "Thought you could use that."

Steve sighed and smiled at her. "Thanks, again.” he said before asking "Did anybody, errm,..?"

"No." she replied knowing what he wanted to ask. "Everybody was already in the briefing room. They’re waiting for you."

"Ok. Let’s get this over with." Steve said before taking a sip from the mug and gesturing for Wanda to follow him.

Bucky saw Tony enter the briefing room with a sour face, munching blueberries from a foil packet. Tony approached the seat between Sam and his sister, who looked at him with a worried expression.

"Are you ok, Tone?" she asked, and Bucky quietly observed them. Everyone in the 101 knew full well that Tony only devoured snacks at that rate when he was anxious or angry.

Tony dismissed Katie's question with a wave of his hand, plopped on his seat and started revising his notes, the nerve in his jaw ticking. Katie frowned, looked out of the door, clearly contemplating something when she caught Bucky’s eye where he sat on her right. He gave her a sympathetic smile and shook his head.

“I’m sure you know him better than me but I’d leave it for now.” he leaned over and said gently in her ear “This briefing is going to be awkward enough as it is.” “Tell me about it.” she grumbled.

“Look, I know you don’t want to be here but Steve dragging you back has nothing to do with…well, you two…you know…and for the record, he told me exactly what went down. How he left.” At that Katie’s eyes widened slightly “He did?”

Bucky nodded “I told him he was an ass hole.”

He gave her another soft smile and a gentle squeeze on her shoulder. He looked at him and returned his smile with a soft, yet slightly sad one of her own and she reached up and squeezed his hand.

Steve chose that moment to walk into the room, followed by Wanda who closed the door behind her. He spotted the seemingly intimate moment Bucky and Katie shared and clenched his teeth. With a deep breath he cleared his throat to gain everyone's attention sweeping his eyes around the big glass oval table; Wanda, Rhodey, Thor, Clint, Natasha, Bucky, Katie, Tony and finally Sam who was perched at the end. The Doctor had a tendency to only ever sit on the left to people for some reason.

"Good morning" Steve said projecting his voice in that authoritative way that only he could make look so casual. "Before we get started..."

"Does anyone wanna get out?" Bucky quipped.

"Out of where?" Clint asked taking his eyes from his phone.

"Brooklyn?” Katie piped up and Steve recognised the sarcastic tone in her voice “Yeah, me I tried..."

Clint gave a huff of a laughter and Steve noticed Wanda rolling her eyes.

"I don't understand that reference." Thor said looking round at everybody like he was a lost puppy.

“Bungalow…” Bucky mumbled and Katie turned her head to look at him, arching an eyebrow at the insult, trying to fight the smirk tugging on the side of her lips.

"Alright..." Steve sighed, wanting to gain control before they descended into a complete rabble "settle down." he said putting his mug on the table before continuing. "I was gonna introduce Katie as the team’s surprise new asset ...."

"On this particular case." Katie cut him off.

"Yeah, on this particular case." Steve said hastily placating her as he pinched the bridge of his nose. The team in front of him were already as hard to manage as a bunch of playground kids on a sugar rush so the last thing he needed was a pissed Katie Stark adding to the equation. "So Stark and Barnes, will work together..."

"Cool" Bucky said while fist bumping with Katie who grinned at him.

"Wanda I want you to clear the spare desk in front of Sergeant Barnes' so that Katie can use it." Steve looked at Wanda trying to ignore just another sign of complicity between the pair of Sergeants.

"But, that's not my job..." Wanda started to say startled at what Steve was asking.

"Wanda, your job is what I tell you to do, and I'm telling you to clear that damn desk." Steve said glaring at Wanda who only nodded and grabbed a ball-pen to start scribbling something on her notepad, she could feeling everyone's gaze on her.

Everybody was dead silent at the Captain’s outburst. Bucky glanced around quickly as Nat and Clint shared knowing glances, Tony, Sam and Rhodey became suddenly interested in their reports, Thor was examining the label of his plastic water bottle as if it was the latest best-seller and Katie fiddled with her fingers while looking at the notes on the whiteboard behind Steve, a passive expression on her face. Bucky caught Steve’s eye and shook his head with a reprimanding look.

"Alright, shall we focus on the case now?" Steve asked his team in an attempt to redirect the situation. "Let's start with a possible profile, Katie?" Steve encouraged her to speak while he grabbed his mug and drunk from it.

"I've read the details but only briefly" Katie said, shaking her head with a shrug. "It doesn't look like a frenzied attack so I would suggest the killer had planned exactly how and what he wanted to do. Which tallies with the calling card."

"Any thoughts on that?" Steve looked at her.

"Nothing other than what I told you in DC." she shook her head "the whole look how dangerous every day stuff can be, but it's only my theory."

"Isn't profiling all theory anyway?" Wanda asked, her tone a little clipped "I mean it's not exact science, is it?"

Steve held his breath a little and noticed Natasha and Clint exchanging a glance, nothing new there. He grimaced, awaiting the outburst but to Katie's credit she didn't bite. If anything she actually looked a little amused at Wanda's outburst. "You're right, it's not an exact science, it's based on theory and psychology... but then isn't most detective work?" she paused and looked at Tony and Sam before adding. "Along with the evidence and forensics we work off instinct, gut feelings, hunches."

Steve watched Wanda who simply shrugged and sat back.

"So how long will a profile take you?" Bucky turned to look at Katie, gently tapping her shoulder. She pondered for a second and looked back at him.

"I dunno, depends on how much I have to work with. I'll start with the post mortem report, go from there." with that she turned to Sam. "I'll come by later on to go through it in person if that's ok with you Sam"

"Absolutely fine sugar." Sam smiled “Give me a call on the way and I’ll make sure the coffee is on and the biscoffis are ready.” “I love you.” she said back, blowing him a kiss and he winked at her as a few giggles ran round the briefing room. She turned back to Steve and nodded to him “I’ll keep you updated Captain.”

Steve swallowed at her formality but simply nodded and turned to Sam "Whilst we’re on the subject, do you have any preliminary conclusions we should know about?" he asked the pathologist.

"Death by traumatic brain injury with a blunt object, yet to be determined." he said and looked at Tony.

"Yeah, we're still analysing the processed evidence at the crime scene; fibres, hairs..." Tony said, looking anywhere but at Steve. "it will take a while, Bruce is on it right now. We're also running some fingerprints we found on Ross' personal effects through AFIS.

“Due to the fact that his wallet still contained his cards and his cash, and his phone was still in his pocket would it be safe to assume that the only dabs we’ll find will be his?” Thor looked at Tony.

“Smart question Blondie…” Tony nodded “I think it’s a safe assumption but one never knows, right?"

Thor nodded.

"Ok. Good job, keep working." Steve said before turning to Natasha and Clint. "What have you got?"

"Not much" Clint said "there's this old lady on Furnam street who has a lot of time to spare in between watching soap operas on TV and feeding her cats, so she spies the neighbourhood through her curtains"

"Talk about Rear Window" Natasha quipped with a side smile.

"Yeah, well she says she saw a fancy black car, tinted glass that night around 2 a.m. She's quite the insomniac." Clint continued.

"Have you checked that out?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, there is an ATM right outside her block, so we're checking the surveillance footage looking for that car." Natasha informed "once we've got it we'll check the license plate with the traffic department and go find the driver."

"Good, let me know if you get something pulling that thread." Steve said, satisfied as usual with Clintasha's procedure. "Let's hope that car is not a false trail..."

"Wait, what car? Were there any vehicle tracks at the crime scene?" Thor asked trying to catch up with the exchange of information. "I thought you said there weren't any." he looked at Clint who was looking at him trying to decipher if he was being serious.

"Are you even listening? Does anybody live up there? Pay attention for fuck's sake!" Tony looked at Thor, shaking his head.

"Ok, Thor" Steve ignored Tony's comment "You're responsible for back up, should any of us need police reinforcements, you're in charge."

"Sure, I'll keep my men ready." he said with a nod "You can't count on us, Captain. Ready to serve and protect."

"Yeah, don't let anyone steal your thunder, buddy" Clint said giggling and patting him on his shoulder.

"Rhodes, I need you to issue an official statement. Usual procedure. We're working on it, we're doing our best, we'll call for a press conference when we reach any solid conclusion." Steve ordered the older man who nodded in agreement.

"Wanda, any call from newspapers or freelance journalists put them on hold or put them through Rhodes." he now said turning to Wanda.

"Oh, I'd put them on hold. I like to watch the light blink." Tony quipped smiling at Wanda.

"I'll tell Lang at the switchboard to filter them out as much as he can." Wanda offered.

"Right! That would be all. Everyone knows where we stand and what to do. That doesn't mean we know what to expect. Go do your work, you're dismissed." the Captain said looking at everyone, standing tall, hands on his belt buckle.

"Always so dramatic." Katie muttered standing up. Bucky smirked and nudged her while everyone else gathered their belongings and began to leave the briefing room.

********

An hour or so later Katie and Bucky were in the main office, Katie was looking at the stuffed animal on Bucky’s desk.

“What’s with the llama?” she asked.

“It’s a goat…” “Looks like a llama…” Katie said, picking it up.

“Dot does not look like a llama.” Bucky said indignantly.

“Dot?” Katie arched an eyebrow at him “Dot the goat.” “It’s as good a name as any, now put her down.” Bucky pointed at Katie with his pen. She looked at him for a moment, smirking, before she placed the stuffed animal on the desk and took her seat at the now no longer spare desk opposite Bucky and sat down.

“I’m gonna pop down and see Sam in a bit.” She looked over at Bucky who glanced up. “You wanna come with me partner?”

Bucky grinned “Partner…I like it. So am I Cagney or Lacey?” Katie gave a bark of a laugh “you know my old sergeant at the 99 named his twin girls Cagney and Lacey.” “Get out of town…” Bucky looked at her.

“Straight up.” “I had a rabbit when I was a kid called Starsky.” Bucky mused, “ Get it?”

“Starsky and Hutch…” Katie groaned “That’s fucking awful Bucky!”

He laughed before he watched her face grow serious for a moment as she picked up the file with the PM report in before she dropped it back on her desk, her eyes flicking behind Bucky to Steve’s office.

“Look, I know you’re pissed at him…” Bucky began.

“Don’t wanna think about it.” she said. “Just wanna get this case sorted then I can go back to DC…” “But are you still mad at me?”

“A little.” she said, a smile threatening to curve across her mouth.

“But not as mad as you are at Steve?” he said playfully.

“No.”

“Ok, that’s good I suppose.” Bucky mused, “If I bought you lunch, Watson, would that stop you being mad at me.”

Katie looked at him “That depends on what it is, Sherlock...”

“Well there’s a nice sushi joint a couple of blocks away…” He watched as Katie contemplated that, and she opened her mouth to answer but was cut off.

“You’ll be better trying your luck with a double cheeseburger, chilli fries and a vanilla shake.” Steve said, looking at Bucky.

“Sorry, did someone say something?” Katie looked around, avoiding looking at Steve. The display of utter childishness made Bucky want to snort but he didn’t, instead he glanced down at his desk awaiting Steve’s response.

Steve felt the nerve in his jaw twitch. He knew she’d said no conversation other than regarding work matters but really? As she continued to avoid his gaze he felt his temper starting to fray a little.

Fine, that’s the way you wanna play…

“When are you going to see Sam?” he asked her. She turned her head to him.

“Me and Bucky were just talking about that…” “Well can you make it a priority please?” he cut her off.

She looked at Steve, then to Bucky, and then back to Steve. Bucky saw her entire body language shift from being relatively relaxed to tense and he let out an inward groan. All his progress from the last 5 minutes or so of banter slipped down the drain.

“Once I’ve finished my coffee.” she replied, her voice dangerously flat. Bucky knew it carried a level of threat, and he could tell immediately she was doing this to wind Steve up, and from the look on the Captain’s face it was working.

“What?” she asked.

“I asked you to do something.” Steve replied, his tone brisk.

“Steve…” Bucky started but Katie continued to talk.

“And I’m gonna.” she frowned “I just told you once I’ve drunk this I’ll head over…”

“When I ask someone on my team to do something, if they’re not busy, I expect it them to do it, not simply delay until they can be bothered.”

Bucky grimaced and he saw the woman sit up, her nostrils flaring. She got to her feet slowly, her eyes never once leaving Steve’s and after a pause she gave him a salute.

“Yes Captain, I’ll get right onto it Captain, immediately Captain…”

She grabbed the file off her desk and stalked towards the double doors. Clint jumped out of her way as she pushed through them, turning to watch her for a moment before he headed towards his desk, shrugging.

“Well handled punk…” Bucky turned to look at Steve as he stood up, grabbing his wallet and car keys. “I expect them to do it…” he mimicked a deep voice “way to really try and make things better between the pair of you.” “Shut up Bucky.” Steve said, turning back to his office, the door slamming behind him.

Bucky watched him go, before he headed after Katie, finally catching up with her just as she was about to get in the elevator.

"Wait for me, doll face." Bucky said while putting his phone in the back pocket of this dark denim trousers.

"I told you not to call me that, Barnes." she retorted as they both entered and she pressed the button that led to the parking lot.

Bucky leaned on the back wall of the elevator and crossed his arms over his chest casually.

"So, chilli fries and vanilla shake, huh?" he asked with a side smile.

Katie who was standing facing the door turned to look at him and replied "What's it to you? Are you buying me lunch, goat herder?"

"Hmmm, on second thoughts not sure I'll be able to keep something down after being at the morgue." he said with a shrug.

“Yeah well I wasn’t planning on going quite yet but Captain Dickhead put paid to that.” she frowned, the scowl crossing her face once more. It was silent for a few more minutes before she groaned “Shit…” “What?” “My car keys are on the desk…” “I got ya covered.” he said, patting his pocket.

The two of them made simple chit-chat on the drive to the morgue, he told her a little about his time in Russia, Katie discussed a few cases in DC she had worked on. The 20 minute drive passed quickly and before long they were walking the corridor that led to Sam’s office and as the unnatural chill of being in an area surrounded by dead people washed over them, Bucky instinctively wrapped his arms around his chest.

"What? Are you cold? I thought you were a tough guy, Bucky bee." Katie joked at Bucky’s groan and change of mood due to the low temperature of the premises.

"I don't like cold.” “You spent like 5 years in Russia.” “Exactly” Bucky nodded “Should have brought my jacket with me."

"You wear jackets in July?" Katie laughed "Wait for the winter, soldier!" she said amused as she opened the door to the examination part of the morgue and headed for Sam's office where she knocked on his door.aw

It opened after a few seconds and Sam looked at them both, and Bucky didn’t miss the fact his eyes lingered slightly longer on his own and he raised an eyebrow slightly, drawing a cheeky grin from the pathologist as he stepped back to let them in.

"Hey, take a sit.” he said, turning to Katie “You didn't call so coffee isn't ready yet, give me a minute"

"Well we would have done but someone was too busy squabbling with Steve, you know." Bucky said as he walked to the far end of Sam's office. Katie just sat down on one of the chairs and stuck her tongue at Bucky.

"Well, what's new?” Sam said giving an amused glance at Bucky while he tinkered with the coffee pot.

"Hello there" Bucky said grinning at a worn colour looking skeleton which was on display against the back wall. "What's your name, buddy?" he asked playfully and Katie couldn't help but roll her eyes.

“And I thought working at the 99 was weird.” she muttered. Bucky flashed her a smile.

Sam who was putting some biscotti on a tray looked up towards Bucky and said "His name is Frank."

"Nice to meet you Frank." Bucky said grabbing the skeleton hand and shaking it. "You could do with a shower, pal."

"Don't touch Frankie." Sam hollered

Bucky dropped the skeleton’s hand and looked at Sam who was smirking again.

"And he's not dirty, he's tanned, he's from Florida." he said, dropping the plate of biscuits onto the desk in front of Katie.

Bucky gave a bark of a laugh and Katie groaned, reaching towards the snacks.

"Are we going to go through the PM report or are we playing house with Jack Skellington?" she added before biting one of the cookies.

"Right, sorry." Bucky said and went to sit on the chair beside Katie in front of Sam's desk.

Sam placed three paper cups filled with coffee on his desk and sat on his office chair as he reached for the Post Mortem report on Ross' case.

"Uh, oh" Sam said waving his hand at Bucky who was grabbing one of the coffee cups. "That's hers, milk and one sugar, right?" he asked Katie with a smile.

"Yes, glad you remember." Katie answered taking the cup and sipping from it.

Bucky made a mental note, first Steve and her favourite food, now Sam and her choice of coffee. Everyone seemed to have a soft spot for this woman and he was beginning to understand why, she was pretty, intelligent, caring and determined, the whole package if that was what you were looking for. Actually, no, maybe not quite everyone. Wanda clearly wasn’t that keen but Bucky suspected that was down to her having her own soft spot on a certain blonde haired captain. Another mental note, he'll pry it out of Romanoff later…

"Barnes, are you listening?" a slap on his arm pulled him out of his thoughts. He stirred in his seat and looked at Katie.

"Yeah, yeah." he cleared his throat. "Sorry, you were saying..."

Sam raised an eyebrow at him before resuming his report on the situation.

"I was saying..." he said in a sarcastic tone "that by the shape and depth of the indentation in the victim's skull, we can conclude it was the trauma what killed him. No other signs of violence on the body, no bullet wounds, no signs of strangulation. And what's more important, no foreign tissue under the victim's nails."

"So he didn't get to defend himself…" Katie stated, glancing down at the file as she read the notes she’d made briefly. “Killer hit him from behind.”

"That's our conclusion. One blunt blow behind his back." Sam nodded at Katie's words. “The toxicology screening was also pretty much clear. No drugs, negligible amount of alcohol in blood…”

“Ok so he wasn’t drugged…” Katie muttered, making another note on the file.

"Any idea about what the murder weapon might be?" Bucky asked.

"Not yet" Sam answered "but it was a blunt object as I said before, that's for sure. No knives or any kind of bladed weapon." Sam drank from his cup before continuing "I've sent the pictures of the wound to Bruce, he’ll measure it and tell us what he finds."

Sam was about to continue his explanation when he was suddenly interrupted by Bucky spitting his coffee and yelling.

"What the fuck is this shit? Man, it's unsweetened!"

Katie started laughing while Sam leaned on his desk and glared at Bucky before saying. "Why would I know how you take your coffee? You've never been here before, dude. Not even once!" and he offered him a sugar sachet he had taken out from one his desk drawers.

"You couldn't have done that earlier?" Bucky deadpanned.

"I hate you" Sam muttered under his breath.

"Ok guys. Can we continue? We all have places to be." Katie said wiping the tears of laughter from her eyes.

"Sure." Sam said looking at her and trying to avoid eye contact with Bucky "The fingerprints we found on Ross' phone and wallet are his own. That was the easiest and fastest part. But Tony says they found hairs on Ross trousers and they don't match his DNA so they are running some more tests. We'll have to wait some more days for the results."

"And the cereal…" Katie said, “Before or after death?”

"Empty stomach, his system had already digested whatever he had had for dinner and there was no evidence of it in his lungs so he hadn’t inhaled any. With that I conclude it must have been post mortem. The suspected killer must have shoved them down his throat when he was dead.” “Pure calling card then…” Katie said, scribbling away “Not meant as a weapon.” “That’s for you to decide. All I can give you is the facts.” Sam smiled, holding up a finger and pointing at Barnes “And before you ask he was wearing a glove, no DNA."

"What type of cereal was it?" Katie asked.

"Does that matter?" Sam asked squinting his eyes

"It could matter." Katie shrugged.

It was Bucky that answered, he knew that from his conversations the other day with Romanoff.

“Puffed rice…” Bucky said. “Hmmmm.” Katie said, “Paul Ross, Puffed Rice… PR…”

Bucky grinned and nodded “I thought the same.”

Katie mused again before she scribbled another note and looked up “Ok, I’ve nothing else I need to know…not yet anyway.” “Good because I'm afraid that's all I've got for now. I'll call or pass by when I have something more to offer."

"I can work with what I’ve got, thanks Sam." Katie said as she and Bucky stood up and she rounded the table to give the doctor a hug.

"I'm not hugging you." Sam said glaring at Bucky who was approaching the man wriggling his eyebrows.

"Your loss." Bucky simply said as he hold the door open for Katie on their way out.

As they both went through the corridor of the morgue Bucky noticed Katie was biting her thumb nail lost in her thoughts.

"What is going through that pretty head of yours?" he looked at her.

"I was thinking..." she trailed and stop to look at Bucky "I think Ross knew his attacker. Something drew him there so he was meeting someone…why else would he be in the park. And there were no restraint marks or signs of a struggle, so he wasn’t bundled into a car and taken…"

"Yeah, you're possibly right. Want to discuss it over a hamburger?" Bucky asked.

"Nah, I'm going back to the station, need to rearrange all this information in my head, get started on the profile." she said.

"You need to eat something. Your brain needs sugar to function properly, you know?"

"You should know it. You ate almost every cookie in there. By my reckoning you should have discovered the elixir of youth by now." she quipped "I'll grab something from the vending machine. Don’t worry about me.”

“I like to make sure my friends eat.” “Is that what we are?” she looked at him, smiling.

“Well, I’m kinda hoping so.” he watched her carefully.

She looked at her feet before she glanced back up at him, her face soft “So then, friend..what are you doing this evening?”

"Don't know. Have no plans yet. Maybe see what Steve’s up to, see if he fancies hanging out.” he said giving a side glance to Katie, but she didn't bite.

"Cool.” she shrugged “Erm, would you mind dropping me at the station before you head out to get whatever lunch you’re getting?" she asked.

"Sure thing, doll..." he was about to finish the sentence when she slapped the back of his head and couldn't help but laugh and wrap his right arm around her shoulder.

********

“Hey ma…” Steve called as he opened the door to his mother’s house and stepped inside, wiping his shoes.

“I’m in the kitchen, pet!” She called back, her Irish accent drifting softly through the hallway.

Bucky followed Steve in, shutting the door behind him as he wandered into the hallway and followed Steve down to the kitchen, the smell of Sarah Rogers’ famous apple pie hitting his nostrils as he walked along with a subtle hint of roast chicken.

“Sorry but I picked up a tag along.” Steve said as his ma gave a shriek when Bucky walked into the kitchen and took her face in his hands pressing a sloppy kiss to her cheek

“Away with you James Buchanan Barnes!” she said, swatting him with a dish towel. He laughed and stepped back.

“Steve mentioned you were making a roast and then dropped your pie into the equation and you know I’m a sucker that pie ma’am!”

“I tried shaking him but he’s like an annoying smell…” Steve rolled his eyes, sticking his hand into the bowl of sliced veg his mother was preparing to snaffle a piece of carrot. She slapped his hand and he jerked it away, grinning as he shoved his stolen prize into his mouth.

“Hey, I traded in an evening with my hot new partner for you and your ma, show some respect.” Bucky said and Steve rolled his eyes, ignoring the deliberate dig.

“Hot new partner?” Sarah looked up arching an eyebrow.

“Well maybe not so new…” Bucky grinned and Steve shot him a look which he ignored and continued “I believe you already know her…” Sarah frowned. “I’m not-“

“It’s Katie, Ma.” Steve cut her off, deciding to break the news before Bucky got chance.

“Katie’s back?” Sarah looked at her son, her frown deepening. “For how long?” “She’s helping us on a case.” Steve shrugged “So as long as it takes.”

There was a pause before his mother shook her head “Why didn’t you tell me she was back in town?”

“Oh there’s a lot he don’t tell you Mrs R.” Bucky quipped and Steve glared at him.

“Shut up.”

“Oh I don’t doubt it.” Sarah’s eyes twinkled as she looked at Bucky then to her son. “Well go and make yourself useful boys, set another place at the table. Dinner won’t be long, another 15 minutes or so.” Steve bustled around his mother grabbing cutlery out of drawers and handing it to Bucky who made his way over to the table that was at the other side of the kitchen and laid the cutlery down at one of the spare seats. Whilst he was doing that Steve grabbed a jug, filled it with water and then along with 3 glasses set it down in the middle of the table.

Through their dinner the 3 of them continued to make idle chit chat, Steve steering the conversation into other direction whenever his Ma mentioned Katie. Something that Bucky could see wasn’t passing the woman by. And like anything else, his Ma wasn’t letting it go.

“So this case that Katie’s helping on…” Sarah said, placing her spoon back on the plate as Steve helped himself to another slice of apple pie, offering one to Bucky who nodded eagerly. “Can you tell me anything about it?” “Sorry Ma, you know the rules.” he said, “But it’s an odd one. Hence why she’s come back.” “And that’s the only reason?” she asked, tucking a strand of grey hair which had escaped her bun behind her ears.

“Ma…” Steve sighed with a groan “Yes.” “Shame.” Sarah sighed “You know I always hoped that one day the pair of you would wake up and see what was right in front of yo’ eyes…” “Oh they saw it.” Bucky swallowed his pie “3 times in fact” “I swear to God, Bucky I’m gonna kick your…” Steve snarled and was cut off by his mother placing her hand on his arms.

“Son, what is wrong with you?” she asked, her blue eyes locking onto his “You’ve been so jumpy and snarky lately.”

“Loaded plums” Bucky mumbled before he stood up as Steve shot him another death stare “I’m gonna nip to the bathroom…”

Once he was gone Sarah turned to her son and leaned back in her chair, folding her arms “So I take it from Bucky’s comments then that the pair of you…”

She gestured with her hands and Steve groaned. He had always been close to his ma, there was hardly anything about his life she didn’t know. But he hadn’t given her any reason as to why Katie had left, which was another mistake on his behalf. His mother had been close to Katie, more so after Katie’s parents had died. She’d been like a second mother to her, and he knew that his Mother was bound to have been upset at the way she left.

“So you…slept together.” Sarah pressed and Steve pinched the bridge of his nose “What went wrong?” “I screwed up.” Steve sighed, his eyes fixed on the table “I panicked and…”

“So you left…” Sarah groaned and Steve’s head dropped further “You did a runner.”

Steve nodded. There was a pause and then he felt a stinging slap on the back of his head. “Shit ma!” he exclaimed, reaching up to rub at the point where her palm had connected with his skull. “I brought you up better than that Steven Grant Rogers…” she glared at him.

“I know and I didn’t plan on it happening like that I just...” he shrugged. “I just suddenly started worrying about being her boss and what happened if she took the job to DC. I guess I tried to go into self-preservation mode, but hit the self-destruct button instead…”

“Have you tried talking to her?” Sarah said, her tone a little gentler this time.

“She hates me” Steve shrugged, “And I get it, it’s my fault ma.” he swallowed “I hurt her and now I don’t know how to make it better, or even if I can.”

Sarah leaned closer to him, her hand back on his arm and she gave it a squeeze “Well I tell you what you don’t do…you don’t give up.”

Steve looked at his mother, blinking back the tears that were threatening to fill his eyes.

“Look, I’ve watched the pair of you over the past 10 years…both of you with other people…but you were always better together. Even when you had a girlfriend you couldn’t live without her, not even when Peggy asked you to! So what does that tell you?”

Steve licked his lips, his mother was right. Even when Peggy had tried to get him to put some distance between him and Katie he couldn’t. He’d tried and lasted 2 weeks but it had made him miserable.

At that point he was jolted as his phone began to ring. Apologising to his mother he pulled it out of his pocket and frowned. It was Katie.

“Err, Katie, hi…” he said gently, standing up and moving from the table.

“Sorry to disturb your evening but, well, dispatch called through on the radio. Couple of kids found a body behind the Le Frak Centre in Prospect Park.” “Shit.” Steve said, “Another Cereal Killing?” “According to Thor yeah.” She said “He went down to answer the initial call and when he realised it was another one for us he called through to the office.”

Steve glanced at his watch, it was almost half 7. Clint was on the late shift for the evening, but what Katie was still doing there he had no idea.

“Ok…tell Clint I’ll meet him down there.”

“I sent him home” Katie said, “I was still here working on this profile so seemed pointless him being here when he didn’t need to be. I’ve told Thor to secure the area and called Bruce. I’m gonna head down there now.” Steve paused. He hadn’t asked her to swap with Clint, and he was about to question why she had done it but he stopped himself. At the end of the day she was a Sergeant, it was up to her to run her troops as she thought fit.

“Ok, we’ll meet you there.”

With that she hung up. He put the phone back in his pocket and turned to Bucky who was stood in the doorway.

“Another one?” Bucky asked.

“Looks like it.” Steve said. He turned to his mother and sighed “Sorry Ma, duty calls.” “Ok, just give me a second…” She said, picking up the pie dish. She cut the remainder up quickly into 3 pieces and wrapped them in foil, handing them to Steve.

“You make sure my little Star gets one of those.” she said, and Steve’s heart gave another twinge at her nickname for Katie “And think on what I said.” “Thanks Ma.” he said softly, dropping a kiss to her cheek. Bucky gave her a hug goodbye and the two men left.

@the-omni-princess @momobaby227 @geekofmanythings16 @angelofhell-666 @thewackywriter @marvelfansworld @cobalt-gear @asgardlover75 @jennmurawski13 @jtargaryen18 @saiyanprincessswanie @navispalace @patzammit @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @djeniiscorner @ayamenimthiriel @coldmuffinbanditshoe @disneylovingal @madzmilllz @sgtjaamesbaarnes @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @southerngracela @goldenfightergir @kellymat @official-and-unstable-satan @charmed-asylum

#csi rogers and barnes #csi au #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #clint barton #tony stark #thor odinson #wanda maximoff #sam wilson #bruce banner #mcu #mcu fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #avengers #avengers fanfiction

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raylee-kai · 5 years ago

Text

When You Love Someone - Park Jae Hyung Chpt. 1 (Part 1/2)

Here's the thing.

You hated playing the guitar.

You were clearly a keyboard/piano person but when you heard that Jae had volunteered himself at the local music shop, you barely hesitate to put your name down on the form for the guitar lessons. It might have got something got to do with the crush you harbor on the guy.

Your hate of the guitar was mostly because of the fact that your fingers were never flexible enough to press on the strings, how loud and gritty the sounds of an electric guitar echoes and also how there were different ways to play with different songs.

Like what on earth was plucking?

Why are there different ways to play one instrument?

It didn't help that there were different ways to tune a guitar. The amount of time you struggled with the tuner was making you regret the decision but as soon as Jae smiles at you and helped you out, you found yourself back in the studio, practicing yet another song on the guitar.

"Have you been practicing your chords?"

You nod, totally forgetting that he was actually asking about guitar chords and not keyboard. He gave a small chuckle and settled in front of you.

"Great, let's see it!"

The next few minutes consisted of;

"Did you tune your guitar? It sounds a little weird.."

"That's the G chord."

"Bring that finger here and this one here..."

"Show me A chord..... Uh... That's C chord."

"That's not even a chord."

It was amazing how Jae was never frustrated with your inability to learn the chords because your limit was approaching fast.

Every mistake you made, you simply want to throw the guitar down and leave but Jae was always there to stop you from doing that. With his kind smile and carefree attitude, you could not stop yourself from falling for him even more. He was honestly your only motivation to learn the guitar.Your frustration was clear on your face but once he ruffles your hair, you can't help it but to come back for the next session.

"You did great! Just need a little more practice."

Jae flashed a proud smile when you get a chord right was the highlight of the entire lesson.

"That's it for today!"

Jae clapped his hands and pats your shoulder, as if signing to you that you did a good job. Your shy smile made its appearance along with a slight blush but luckily, his attention was on the notification of his phone. He briefly read through and perked up, catching you before you leave.

"Before I forget, here!"

He held out a shiny silver ticket out to you and grinned.

"Umm... What is this?"

"There's a gig, tomorrow at Club Eclipse. Thought that maybe it would be nice for you to see a few live performances."

You eyed the ticket for a bit before you glance up at him.

"You'll be playing?"

"Not this time but I'll be sure to invite you next time! Pinky promise!"

He stuck out his pinky, wiggling childishly to which you curled with a small giggle. Jae gave you a ruffle on your hair before looking at his watch.

"I'll pick you up at about 7 at the cafe near school?"

"You have a license?"

"Only one way to find out right?"

He winked, smiling while you tried to bite back your smile.

You might have went all out in trying to find the perfect outfit which had Seungmin groaning in pure annoyance at the fact that you just practically dumped a bunch of clothes infront of him. The amount of times that you ran into his bedroom's toilet and came out with a new outfit had him regretting his friendship with you.

As if he could break a childhood friendship that easy.

You and Seungmin met each other at a piano recital when the two of you were younger. Ever since then, it was as if it was fated for the two of you to be friends. Both of you kept getting into the same classes, courses and school with or without planning on it. Plus, it did not help that Wonpil, Seungmin's brother, was your partner for a piano recital which made the two of you even closer.

"Are you seriously doing this at my house?"

"I need fashion advice."

You pouted, turning away from the mirror for Seungmin's view. He barely gave you a glance and scoffed.

"Stop pouting. You ain't cute."

You pouted even more at his harsh words but it was just a Seungmin thing to do so you weren't offended in the slightest.

"Why aren't you asking Hyunjin for fashion advice? He is better than the rest of us at fashion."

"YOU'RE A GENIUS, SEUNG!"

You immediately grabbed your phone and called Hyunjin over to Seungmin's house. It didn't take long for him to arrive but not alone.

"Who invited the sunshine twins here?"

"We are here for mental support!"

"Get out of my house."

"Why do you like Jae anyways?"

Felix's question threw you to a state of flabbergast.

"Why Jae?"

Jisung added on, while Hyunjin was picking up outfits and trying to pair them together.

You sat on Seungmin's mattress much to the other's displeasure and thought about it to yourself.

At first, it was the smile. You always thought that Jae had a cute smile with how he smiles with his eyes. He had a variety of smiles from the playful mischievous grin to the tired yet blessed smirk. It stays in your mind every time and you could not help feeling warm seeing his smile.

"Who's that?"

You asked Seungmin, who had been re-reading his script for the tenth time that day. Your dear friend was a part of the MC line up for some after school event which he was extremely nervous for which was why you, his dear friend, was there to cheer him on.

"What?"

"That blonde? I don't think I had seen him before."

"Oh, Jae?"

You raised a brow as if trying to get him to explain more. "He was a student here, my brother's senior. They called him back to help us with the event."

Your attention went to the blonde who was joking around with some of the MCs to calm their stage nerves. The way he threw his head back to laugh caused you to smile a little.

"Cute."

Then, you fell for his personality. How friendly and welcoming he was with everyone, how thoughtful to those he held those dear and how mature and gives the best advice at times. He was like a canvas with similar yet different shades that you would only realize after looking closely.

Jae was not close to Wonpil by any means.

It did not mean that they hated each other or anything but it is just that their friend circles never really clashed. So, Jae had no reason to protect Wonpil like he did that one time during his third recital.

During his third recital, the seniors had Wonpil running around, forcing him to do stuff which would make him late to the recital. They went as far as to cut his formal clothes causing him to turn up with red slick back hair and blue button up which had caused a ruckus among the audience and judges for not being professional. But without a doubt, he was able to pull a performance that had the audience crying and reaching out for their tissues.

Unfortunately, Wonpil was disqualified and was banned from joining in another recital in the event hall for not being "professional" and was reported for "harassing" the seniors that he had helped.

That had caused you and Seungmin to fume in pure anger with how you had seen Wonpil going around to help the seniors, even going as far as to cut his practice time.

It was the first time you saw Wonpil getting upset that he walked away.

You and Seungmin were about to storm into the judges when Jae reached before the two of you could and provided them with evidence and eyewitnesses of the seniors bullying Wonpil and forcing him on errands. You watched in pure amazement at how the older glared the seniors down.

When you asked why would he stand up for a total stranger, his reply would always be the same.

"Why not?"

After, you just could not help but pay attention to him no matter where he goes. It's like your eyes would constantly be searching for him. There was just something about his presence that made you look at him in amazement.

What do you like about Jae?

"I don't know. I just like him."

You should probably trust Hyunjin more than you did because the outfit he put together really looked good. Not only you looked good but you also feel good in the outfit. So there you were with nervous jitters waiting outside the cafe for Jae, typing at your phone furiously, trying to calm yourself down.

Millennium Line Unite (5)

Memelix : Still cant believe u got boss to give u today off

Memelix : On short notice

J.ONE : Not fair :(

SeungSky : I dont get y u guys complaining

SeungSky : M covering her shift

SeungSky : If anyone want complain it be me

lmao he saw my ticket

he just send me off

Dramallama : boss said you need friends

Dramallama : hes sad Minnie is ur only friend

Dramallama : WHO TF CHANGE MY USER NAME

Memelix changed Dramallama to PrettyJinnie

PrettyJinnie : Aww

PrettyJinnie : Thanks baby

Memelix : Anything for my Prince

J. ONE : my eyes

J. ONE : NEED BLEACH

SeungSky : No flirting

SeungSky : Not in this christian household

Memelix : jokes on you

Memelix : im catholic

SeungSky : And Jisungs a rapper

Memelix : ???

J. ONE : ???

PrettyJinnie : ???

???

SeungSky : it means idgaf

Ouch

taht got to hurt

SeungSky : Idgaf bout ur date either

SeungSky : u made me work on my off day

SeungSky : u officially out of my friend list

J. ONE : at least u were in his list

SeungSky : Han

SeungSky : stfu

Oh shit oh shit oh shit

Jae here gtg

wish me lcuk

Memelix : Stay safe

PrettyJinnie : Use protection

J. ONE : good lcuk

Private Chat : SeungSky

SeungSky : Text me ASAP if somethings wrong

SeungSky : Don't accept drinks from strangers

SeungSky : Stay close to Jae hyung

Must u do this everytime

SeungSky : U only have one braincell

SeungSky : It worries me that u dont have common sense

I do have

hope I dont make a fool of myself

SeungSky : Tough words for a clown like u

f u

"Coming in?"

Jae's voice hollered from the car as you look up from your phone. You darted into the car taking the seat next to the driver's and greeted him casually. You tried to avoid his look, considering how he actually put effort in looking good and you could barely stop yourself from combusting at the sight.

"Looking good today."

"Thanks. You too, Jae. It's been awhile since I saw you in something other than a shirt."

"That's cause I'm usually half awake and late for work."

"Well, does that mean that you are late everyday?"

"Hush now little one."

Laughing quietly at his words, you guys started talking about random things and before you know it, you were already there in the club.

"Nervous?"

He asked, seeing how you hesitate after parking the car nearby. An arm over your shoulder had you calming down almost instantly. It was as if just knowing that Jae was there brought you calmer.

"Is this the wrong time to tell you that this is my first time going to a club?"

"You mean to tell me… you're a club fetus?!"

You giggle at his dramatic scandalised face and playfully pushed him away. He laughed and placed his hands on your shoulder leading the way.

"Don't worry and just stay close."

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jawnjendes · 5 years ago

Text

the fog will clear up | shawn mendes

chapter 13/?, university au, shawn x goth oc

AN: sry its short and definitely a filler im sry its boring but it helps build up stuff thatll happen next ok ok im sry

*let me know if u wanna be added/removed from the taglist

masterlist | playlist

Annalise woke with a start. She was wide awake immediately. There was no room for sleepily rolling around the sheets, her eyes weren't heavy like always. She didn't know what dying and coming back to life felt like, but she was pretty sure it felt something like that. She had a weird urge to go for a jog.

Staring at the ceiling, Annalise reached towards the nightstand next to her, intending to grab her phone. Her hand touched the bottle, and she picked it up anyway, reading the prescription label.

Annalise Flores SERTRALINE 50MG TABLET Brand name: Zoloft

"You don't waste anytime, huh?" she murmured before setting it back down. Then, she grabbed her phone and checked the time.

8:47am. A new fucking record. Annalise rolled out of bed, unable to stay still.

In the 2 hours she had to kill before work, she tidied up the dorm, ate a decent breakfast, took a shower, and got started on the course work she had to make up. The energy levels were through the roof, she had never been so on edge and productive at the same time. Why wasn't she put on sertraline sooner? Sure, she felt hyperaware and borderline anxious, but that was apart of the process of getting on a new antidepressant. She was getting things done this way. Sure, she jumped when the lock on the door jiggled, but she was up and running anyway!

If she wasn't, she wouldn't have seen Stella entering the dorm. She was surprised to see Annalise on the couch, looking like a deer in headlights.

"Oh… I thought you were asleep. I'll, uh, I'll come back."

"No, wait!" Annalise sounded a little too frantic, but it did stop Stella from leaving. "Uh, come sit down! Please!"

Stella narrowed her eyes slightly as she went to the couch. At least she was willing to listen.

"I, uh, I'm sorry," Annalise began, rubbing the back of her neck. "I'm sorry for what I said. A stupid guy isn't the only good in my life. I have you. You matter to me, and I'm sorry for making you feel like you don't." She really couldn't stop herself from rambling. "I miss you. I miss seeing you here between classes, and I miss your optimism because a bitch could use some of that. And, and I'm sorry for the negativity I've brought in here. I'm working on it now, I swear. Just… come back. Come home… because bro, you're my wife, dude."

It could have been funny, but there was nothing funny about the way she said it. Her eyes were wide and pleading, and she was rubbing her hands together. Stella merely blinked her hazel eyes, nearly overwhelmed by that string of words.

"Look at you, expressing your emotions," she said after a while. "I can see why you hold it back."

Annalise nodded rapidly. "It's my first day on a new medication. Got me all sorts of hyped up, but I'll mellow out in a couple of weeks. And I'm taking therapy seriously again!"

Stella was surprised. "Oh, I see. Well… I've missed you too. Bro…"

"Bro?"

"I'll come home too. Camila's bed is too small for the two of us."

"Bro…"

"I know. I have to update you on all that."

"Br-"

"Okay!" Stella broke out a smile and stood up. "Dame un abrazo, puta."

That was much easier than Annalise had anticipated. She stood up and hugged her best friend, relieved. Stella wasn't one to hold a grudge, nor was she as stubborn as her roommate. It was another person to cross off the list.

Shawn had social media mainly to get his music out there. Yes, he interacted with his friends on Snapchat, and some fans on Twitter. Most of the time, Shawn just tweeted when he had new music coming out. He didn't check any of his social media very often, not even to stalk Ann's accounts because she was rarely on her's. He didn't even have his notifications on, purely to keep himself from the possibility of getting too attached to the opinions of random strangers online.

That was why he woke up that morning to a number of texts from Camila.

"SHAAWWNWNN"

"SHAWN IM LKTERSLLY BALD RN"

"CHEKC UR TWITTER RIGHT NOW!!!!!!"

"YOIR FOLLOWERS!!! AAHSKSKSK"

"SKSKSK SHAWNMM IM SCRAMING"

So to Twitter he went. Shawn rubbed sleep out of his eye as he went to his profile. He had around 10k to begin with, that he built up on his own over the last couple of years. He nearly dropped his phone on his face as he read the new number.

50.2k

"What… the fuck?" he breathed out as he sat up in his bed. He scrolled through the list, making sure this wasn't a series of spam bots.

His mentions were just as wild, and it explained the sudden blow up.

@hollaestor: @shawnmendes hiii bella told me to follow you

@samxriv: @shawnmendes i am free to hang out on tuesday to hang out when i am free

@gisellenjh: @shawnmendes bella sent me here and im glad she did! loving your music!

And there were plenty more like that. There were so many tweets, Shawn couldn't even get through all of them. It was making his head spin. There was only one Bella he knew about too… He just couldn't spell her last name. Thankfully, her handle was just @bellasanti, and it was the first one to pop up when he typed it in the search bar.

Right under Bella Santiago's name and the blue checkmark were the two little words: Follows you. Shawn refreshed the page ten times before it sank in. This YouTuber, who has over 2 million followers, somehow found Shawn's music… and she liked it. She liked it enough to tweet about it… 3 days ago.

@bellasanti: underrated spotify artists: @shawnmendes. give him a listen. send him some love. truly talented guy💖

Shawn had only overheard Bella's videos when Ann was watching them in the other room. He never really watched any of her content. But he wanted to pass out at the fact that she took the time to listen to his music and tweet about him. He wanted to jump on the bed. He wanted to call-

He texted Camila back. "Wtf why did no one tell me sooner?? This is so crazy!!!!!"

"We thought you knew and you were keeping it from us!! LMAO congrats rockstar!"

He couldn't believe it. His follower count was rising. He was getting emails from Spotify saying his songs were being added to many different playlists.

@shawnmendes: @bellasanti wow thank you so much! Love you bella❤

He deleted the last bit before tweeting it. Holy shit. Shawn lied back down on the mattress, completely breathless.

How does someone like Bella Santiago find Shawn out in cyberspace? What Spotify rabbit hole did she go down that led her to him? How many of his songs did she listen to? How many songs did she save to her library? How many of those playlist emails were from her? Shawn had so many questions.

There were two things Annalise noticed when she was out on the courtyard after Biology. The first thing was a table on the side of the walkway, with a handmade banner hanging off the front. It read in big letters: Shawn Mendes: Live at The Cameron House. Brian, Alessia. and Camila were all sat on the same side at this table, talking to a student who was interested in the little display.

"The lounge called back," Annalise muttered to herself.

The other thing Annalise noticed was Patrick sitting under a tree nearby, reading a book. She went to him first.

The last time she had spoken to Patrick was when they cut up flowers together. He was never one to explicitly state when something has upset him, and he has seen Annalise in a depressive episode before. Annalise knew him well. Patrick kept his distance because he didn't like the negativity around her, and he couldn't afford any more of it himself.

"Hey," she greeted.

His blue eyes tore away from his book to meet her gaze. "'Sup?"

"Trying to be less fucked in the head," she told him.

Patrick nodded in approval. "Cool."

That was all that was needed for the two of them. Content, Annalise turned and went for the table. A small line had formed when she wasn't looking, so she waited behind the last person. However, with three people running the thing, Annalise got to the front fairly quick.

"Oh, she actually showed up," Brian chimed, amused.

"Meaning?" Annalise asked.

"Thought you were too pissed at Shawn to care about his show, that's all."

She swallowed the pit of annoyance, discovering that even more people knew about that. Brian is his friend, though, of course he'd know.

"Selling tickets or something?" Annalise turned her attention to the two girls.

"Yeah! Ten dollars a piece!" Alessia explained.

"Cool, I'll take one."

Just as she opened the flap on her book bag, Camila spoke up.

"Wait. I'm pretty sure Shawn said he wanted to buy you your ticket himself."

Annalise rolled her eyes. "Well, he's not here and I can do things for myself." She pulled out her wallet and paid her own goddamn ticket.

Camila breathed out a laugh. "Are you ever gonna let him do anything nice for you?"

None of your fucking business.

A new thought occurred to Annalise. "Why are tickets being sold for this show? Aren't his gigs usually free?"

"There's more production going into this one," Brian told her. "The lounge gave him the option to make it a ticketed event, and we need to make back what we already put into it. So now, it won't be a performance, it'll be Shawn's performance."

Shawn already knew how to make an audience his bitch, but…

"Alright then." Annalise shrugged and then accepted her ticket and receipt from Alessia.

The ticket alone was already quite extravagant. There were little red roses designed around the edges. This boy really loved his fucking flowers.

"I'm guessing rose petals will fall from the ceiling or something?" she guessed with a chuckle.

"I was given strict orders to not spoil anything," Brian told her, folding his arms.

The two had a mini staredown until Annalise shrugged again. "Whatever."

Then, Camila piped up again, suddenly excited. "Ooh, Ann did you hear? Bella Santiago followed Shawn on Twitter!"

"She what?" Annalise stupidly replied.

Camila practically squealed. "She gave him a shoutout too! He's blowing up on Spotify! Isn't that awesome?"

Annalise wanted to say something, but her brain wasn't quite caught up yet. So she just walked away.

The other three students watched her leave. Needless to say, they were confused.

"Is she ever gonna be happy for him?" Alessia wondered.

"I think she was excited?" Camila said tilting her head.

"I can't believe Shawn is going through all this trouble for that," Brian said with a scoff.

"I can still hear you!" Annalise called over her shoulder as she kept walking.

All three of them went red in the face, embarrassed. Brian would have made a comment about her being a vampire with supersonic hearing, but he didn't want to be called out again.

_______

taglist: @normalcyisoverrated-beyou @ilsolee @mendesromano @1-800-khalid-mendussy @kitykatnumber @strangerliaa @iloveshawnieboi @goldenmndes @shawnvvmendes @shawnsunflower @shawmndes @ruinhoney @someoneunimportantxx @calyumthomas @yourdeflightfullyleft @havethetimeeofyourlifee @wronglanemendes @chillingbythesea @softmendesss @mutuallynotmutual

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes smut #shawn x goth gf #aahhhh its so short n boring im so srryyy

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living-dead-parker · 6 years ago

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Tickets - P.P

Summary: You got tickets to a concert and heartbreak. Who do you go with? Do you even go?

Warnings: this takes place during the school year so we’re ignoring ffh lmao but it does end up being spideychelle, flash and brad aren’t assholes and no one can convince me otherwise bc I make the rules around here, Felicia hardy bc I fucking can, cussing maybe, and angst.

I’m considering a very self-indulgent part two polyamory imagine w Felicia and Brad so lemme know if that’s something y’all want. Also, Brad and reader are seniors and they’re both eighteen.

Word Count: 1.7k

"Oh cool," you call out to no one in particular, not looking up from your phone. In fact, you were talking more to yourself than anyone, really. As soon as the words left your mouth, you look up and see your group of friends look up at you. "Sorry, I managed to snag two VIP tickets for the Yeah Yeah Yeah's show coming up."

"Oh really? That's awesome," Ned responds, sending you a smile. However, you feel a little bit sad when you realize that the person who you wanted to take with you, well, you can't.

You can, but you can't. As in, you can ask them and they can say yes and they'll be able to go, but it's the principle of it all. Peter's not yours anymore, he's not your boyfriend and that makes you sad. He's happy with going after Michelle and it makes you kind of sad. However, you'd rather him be happy and if it's with Michelle, then who are you to hold him back? Plus, they're not actually together. Part of you hopes there's still a sliver of a chance, while deep down, you know you're holding on to some false hope.

So now that leaves the dilemma of who to take with you. You have six options, but you'd rather not go with either Peter nor Michelle for selfish yet obvious reasons. That leaves four options, but deep down you know you don't want to go with Betty because she's more of an acquaintance you hang out with because of mutual friends. So that just leaves Ned, Flash, and Brad.

"Who are you taking with you?" Brad asks. You look up at him and see him already staring at you, a glimmer in his brown eyes. Almost like a look of adoration. Oh, sweetie.

"Not sure yet," you begin, looking up at the group of friends around you. Seeing Peter and Michelle lost in their own world, only looking up as their conversation dies down, kind of makes your chest feel heavy. Your heart drops. However, you shake the feeling away, not wanting to give into it. "I don't really know who I want to take."

"You should take me," Flash responds, holding his head high and giving you a smirk. A friendly one, at least, which makes you giggle.

"Or how about that Felicia girl you're always talking about?" Ned pipes up, earning a nod from Brad. "Isn't she like your new best friend?"

"She's not really a fan of them," you begin, though you feel the small smile spread across your lips at the mention of your new best friend. Some argue there's more, but that's far from the truth. She's helping you every step of the way through your heartbreak as a best friend. "She'd say yes if I asked her to come, but I don't want to do that to her. She already deals with enough of my shit."

"Is she single?" Flash speaks up, earning chuckles from Peter and Michelle. Even Betty giggles. However, Ned and Brad roll their eyes almost at the same time as you.

"Leave the lady alone," Brad defends.

Brad had the opportunity to meet Felicia, as he was over at the Tower once when she came over. The two hit it off and the three of you seemed to be like the best of friends around each other. Though Brad would never admit it to you, that though he has a crush on you, he sees that you and Felicia are a match made in heaven. Better than you and Peter ever were. However, he'll keep that to himself for now as you mourn the heartbreak of losing the kid you loved to the girl who you thought was a close friend. Though that was the only case as neither of you managed to make relationships with other girls until Betty and Felicia came around in your lives. Through Felicia or through SI you made new girl friends and you found yourself drifting further from Michelle.

"Hey, the girl is hot-"

"And she's not into little boys, okay?"

"You're only a year older than me, Stark."

With that, you ignore Flash and continue talking to Brad for the rest of the lunch period. The two of you discuss how you should organize a sleepover at the tower with Felicia and himself. You were quick to agree, as spending time with the two of them always seemed to make you genuinely happy. Your mind was never on Peter or Michelle, they made you laugh beyond belief, and they made everything fun. Brad had become one of your best friends, as he was now in the same grade as you and you were in all of each other's classes. Now as the school year approaches its end, you're finding yourself making pacts with him and Felicia on keeping up your friendship.

Lunch was soon over and you were left confused about who to invite to the show. You know Flash really likes the band and Ned likes them too. Brad sort of likes them, but it's not something he'd kill to see, so he's at number three on the list. As the day progressed, you find yourself thinking about.

A day turns into a whole week and the show is rapidly approaching. Once again, you're sitting at the lunch table, staring at the tickets in your hand. Unsure of who should go with you. With you at the table sits Peter. Michelle is running late, and everyone else has some test to makeup, some club, and who knows what else. Today is just you and Peter.

"I really like her," he goes on, speaking about Michelle. The more and more he talks about her, the more it breaks your heart. At least until you hear him say, "Have you ever been around someone who makes you so nervous and sweaty and you just want to say nice things to them and love them?"

The urge to respond with 'yeah, you' was strong, but you fought it off. He moved on and you can't blame him. People change, feelings change. However, as he drones on and on, further tightening the knot around your throat, you decide to stop holding back. He's had his peace, you need yours.

"Peter, I get it," you cut him off. His eyes go wide and his lips shut as he looks at you. His brows are furrowed as he keeps his eyes focused on you. "You're in love with Michelle, I get it. And I'm so glad you're trying to make things official with her. I'm happy that you're happy because after I met you, that's all I ever wanted for you. To be happy," you continue. You shake your head and bite your lip as you feel your eyes gloss over. Peter scoots closer so that he's directly in front of you. He reaches for your hand but you tug it away from him. "I get that you moved on and I'm fine with that. I can't hold you back. But you need to understand that it wasn't so easy for me to move on."

"Y/N I-"

"Just let me talk. You've had your peace, I just want mine. Nothing that I say is meant to guilt-trip you, to convince you to come back to me, or to hate on you and Michelle. But I can't hold onto any of this any longer. Seeing you so happy with Michelle kills me, because that was supposed to be me. I was so convinced that we'd be together forever because we were so unstoppable. So unbreakable. I never imagined myself wanting to settle down in the future and have a family, but then you came along and I wanted it with you. So to come back and lose you like that, it hurt me beyond belief. It hurt me, to see you move on so quickly, to see you all over Michelle, it hurt so much Peter. Because before all of that, you told me it would be us. But as I said, people change and feelings change. I don't blame you for that. But I need you to understand that it's not easy for me to move on. So I'm sorry if I'm ever staring too hard, or if I'm distancing myself from both of you, but I'm doing it for me. You're allowed to move on and be happy with someone else, you have every right. But I also have every right to be hurt and mourn the loss of the love of my life."

Peter's quiet as he looks at you, his eyes never leaving you. He sees the stray tears fall and he fights back the urge to wipe them away. Though it's more of a habit than anything. If he does it, he knows it'll stir up some unwanted emotions, so he stops himself. Instead, he watches you look down at your hands, biting your lip. He sees you wipe the tears away and put on a fake smile.

"I know dad wouldn't want me to be upset over this forever. In fact, he'd want me to be the bigger person and to make amends. So, I've decided," you say after a while of silence. At the mention of your father, Peter feels like he'd been punched. He vowed to Tony that he'd never hurt you. Yet here he was, hurting you. "You and Michelle can have the tickets."

"What?" Peter says, eyes wide and voice laced with genuine shock. Are you serious? "Y/N, we can't t-"

"I know you and Michelle enjoy the band much more than I do and the same could be said about anyone else in the group. Plus, I'm planning a sleepover with Brad and Felicia on that night. We'll probably be busy drinking and flying around in dad's suits to attend some concert. So, just take the tickets and enjoy your time with Michelle. Don't let the tickets go to waste."

With that, you stand up and grab your things. You set the two tickets down in front of Peter and walking away. Not giving him time to fight you on it. So instead, he grabs the tickets and puts them away, beginning to think of ways to thank you. Though a voice in the back of his head tells him that leaving you alone might just be thanks enough.

Send me feedback, requests, and asks!!

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ontherockswithsalt · 6 years ago

Text

A Made Man

/1/ /2/ /3/ /4/ /5/ /6/ /7/ /8/ /9/ /10/ /11/ /12/ /13/ /14/ /15/ /16/ /17/ /18/ /19/ /20/ /21/ /22/ /23/ /24/ /25/ /26/

A/N: It’s soft, it’s Christmas time. It’s Jamie and Noble opening presents on the phone together because why not? Thank you to @cards-onthetable whose idea it was for Jamie to include a gift for Bianca. I hope this eases your mouth pain even for a moment.

Chapter 27.

“I’m gonna be pissed if it’s broken. Is it broken?” I wonder, propping the phone between my ear and shoulder as I drag a retractable blade across the top of the box that I had come home to the day before.

“I don’t know,” Noble chuckles. “I can only see something sitting propped up against my door. I just pulled in the driveway. Don’t open yours yet!”

“Alright.” My shoulders lift and I leave the box there on my coffee table without peering inside. “I’m excited, okay?”

“Were you the kind of kid who tore through like, five presents on Christmas morning before anyone realized you weren’t waiting for everyone else to take turns?”

I grin, pacing over to the living room window. “No. Are you kidding? That was Danny.”

“Oh, right right,” Noble muses. “Then you probably took the longest because you’d open one thing and be immediately obsessed with it, reading the instructions or whatever and couldn’t bring yourself to move on to the next one.”

“What is this analysis of my personality? I thought you were just using me for my body.”

“For the most part I am. But then I went and fell in love with you.”

“Rookie mistake,” I mutter. “And yes, that’s exactly how I was.”

“Alright, there’s a box,” he lists. “And then another like, big rectangle thing here from you.”

“Okay, I just hope the rectangle thing’s not broken.”

“We’ll find out.” He manages and I can hear him move to get everything inside the house.

A few weeks ago, Noble and I had briefly considered not exchanging gifts for Christmas. The oh no, I don’t need anything excuses didn’t last long, though once the season really hit and we both just sort of gave in to the temptation. Usually gift buying stresses me out. It’s too much pressure. My rational conscious always overanalyzes whether something is practical or necessary, or something they already have, or something they wouldn’t use, and it takes the fun out of the whole process. But this year, I couldn’t help but get excited. Figuring out something Noble would like was fun for me and it had been a long time since I’d put that much sentimental effort into getting a gift for someone.

Once I found out he was going on vacation over the holiday, I scrambled to get everything shipped in time for him to open it before he left.

“So am I opening yours, or are you opening mine first?” He wonders, then decides, “Open one of mine.”

Amused, I make my way back over to the coffee table and assess the contents of the large box he sent, pulling out the brown packing paper. “Okay, I’m opening the big one.” Inside are three wrapped gifts and a card. “And I'm putting you on speaker.”

Sitting on the couch, I pull the wide, shallow gift box onto my lap and begin to tear off its pine green paper. I take off the lid, move aside the tissue paper and find a black canvas, almost tactical looking backpack. “Oh sweet.”

“Is that the backpack?”

“Yeah man.”

“I thought it'd be good for all that weekend traveling.”

“To visit my side-piece poolboy? It's perfect.”

“Hey, it's lawnboy not poolboy. There's a difference,” he corrects. “And I'm making a mental note because side-piece lawnboy is definitely some role play I'm down for.”

“Yeah, same here,” I muse while I inspect the zippered pockets. “Hey believe it or not, the backpack I've been using I've had since college so--”

“Oh I'm in total shock, sweetheart,” he deadpans.

I have to laugh. “But this one is way better. Thank you.”

“You're welcome.”

“Open one from me,” I instruct. “And there’s one in there for Bianca. Just… if you want to give that to her when you see her.”

He utters this rumbling “Aww--”

“Yeah, yeah,” I sigh.

“That’ll mean a lot. That’s sweet.”

“It’s like an etched, stemless wine glass and I put a bunch of red Starburst in it, so--”

“God,” he exhales, almost miffed. “You little shit. You’re gonna make me have feelings for you.”

I smirk. “Hopefully that one didn’t break either.”

“And hey, she drinks wine out of a coffee mug, so that’ll be a definite upgrade. She'll love it. I’ll make sure she gets it before we head to the airport tomorrow.”

“Alright, good. Now open one of yours. The big rectangle.”

“You mean the broken one?”

I panic. “It's broken?”

With a soft chuckle he assures me, “I'm kidding. No I don't think so.” Then I hear him go to work pulling off the paper until it's quiet for a second.

“Oh hey now--” He starts. “It's your neighborhood. Did you take this picture?”

“Yes.”

“And you had it framed. Dude, this is dope,” he raves in almost this sing-song. “I love it so much.”

“Good.” I sit back on my couch and think about the photograph, blown up to sixteen-by-twenty, that I thought would make a cool print for his house. “A little Brooklyn for you down in Miami.”

“Well when I really need some Brooklyn down in Miami, I'll get your ass a plane ticket.”

“Since you can't hang my ass up in your living room, that might be a better alternative.”

“Look at you,” he muses. “With the photography skills. I love that street, by the way. Damn, that's some homesick shit I wasn't ready for.”

The historic district where I live, with all it's charming pre-war rowhouses and quiet streets, looks good captured in black and white. Down my block, it's only a short walk to the promenade that stretches along the East River where we had roamed around a little one morning the last time he was here.

“Your turn,” Noble speaks up. “Open another one.”

“There's a card here--”

“No-no-no, open that later. Don't open that on the phone with me. It's gross.”

With a pleased little smile, looking forward to reading that on my own, I set the sealed envelope aside. “Mmkay. I'll do this medium-sized one.”

“Don't give me a hard time about it,” he warns. “I think I have a firm grasp on what kind of nerd you are but--”

“Hey,” I groan in protest as I tear open the package. “You got a complaint?”

“No, you didn't hear me complain--”

“Oh good because I was about to tell you where you can put it.”

“You can always tell me where to put it, Jamie.”

Tilting my head back, I dig my teeth into my bottom lip and take a moment to appreciate him. “Are you really about to leave the country for five days? Because I… miss you in such a dumbass way.”

His laugh through the phone makes me smile as I finish pulling off the paper. “I miss you regardless.”

“Yeah but you'll be off swimming with dolphins and snorkeling or whatever and too busy to remember me suffering in this city at Christmas time.”

He scoffs. “Oh please. Don't you know me at all? I'll be day drinking and taking naps on the beach.”

“Strangely, that's a hotter visual for me,” I reason. “Okay I'm opening this. Let's see what kind of nerd you think I am.” Tearing open the package, I inspect the rattling box, my eyebrows lifting eagerly. “A wooden fractal puzzle? Hell yes, bro.”

On the other end of the line, he cracks up. “That thing looks like torture, so if you want nothing to do with it, I understand--”

“No way, man. I'm gonna do it right now.” After I pull off the plastic wrapping, I examine the intricately cut geometric looking design on the lid.

“If nothing else, it'll look cool on your coffee table.”

“I really do like it though,” I decide.

“Well good.”

“Now do the bigger one from me.”

“Alright,” he agrees.

“You’re gonna give me shit about this one,” I preface while I hear him tear the paper. “But I know you don’t have one and I’m kind of upset about it.”

After a moment, he laughs. “You got me a flashlight.” He states it with amusement more than curiosity.

“Because you’ve said before you don’t even have one. Which I can’t believe considering you live in a damn hurricane capital--”

“And you sent batteries with it!” Then he groans, “Ugh, you’re cute.”

“I’m prepared.”

“This is a pretty badass Maglite, though.”

“There’s more,” I tell him.

“Oh my god,” he mutters as I hear him shift around the paper inside the box to find it. “Is this a fucking Swiss Army knife?” And then he cackles one of his loud laughs that triggers one of mine.

“Hey, you needed one of those too!”

“Oh, who’s gonna fuck with me now?” He teases.

“Nobody when you’re carrying that piece.”

“I’ve never had one of these,” he says and I can tell he’s inspecting it. “Shit, this thing’s kind of intense. Out on the town and need a screwdriver? Check. Carving wood on the go? Check.”

“You can gut a fish with it,” I suggest.

“With a blade like that? Good lord,” he laughs.

“I'm just saying you could. If you had to.”

“You fucking savage,” he murmurs and the low note in that accusation makes my lips twitch. “I’ll leave that to you when we up and move to the frontier.”

I glance down with a satisfied smile. “Mmkay. Well we've got a flashlight and a puzzle. So let's go.”

“The last present for you is very important, then,” he notes. “It'll come in handy when we’re in the wilderness.”

“Oh jeez.” I take out the remaining package from him. Pulling off the paper reveals a black and red metal canister with little silver hearts all over it. “Sexy Truth or Dare?” I question him and just hearing me saying it elicits another heavy chuckle from him.

“Hell yeah.”

I shake my head with a laugh as I give it a glance and screw off the top. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You wanna play?”

I consider it. “Next time you’re here, maybe.” My answer is murmured absently since I’ve already started to pull out the flat sticks printed with the various prompts. “If you had to choose between only oral sex or only penetrative sex for the rest of your life,” I recite, “which one would you pick?”

Noble can only answer with a disapproving groan.

I continue, pulling out another one. “What is the largest age gap you’ve had between you and someone you’ve had sex with?”

His next groan is even louder. “Oh shit--”

“Ha!” I cough. “Do you know the last name of everyone you’ve had sex with?”

“Damn!” I can hear the grimace in his voice and it cracks me up. “I feel attacked.”

I let out a weary moan and rub my eyes. “Oh man, I’m gonna get answers to so many things I never wanted to know.”

“Wait, read a dare. I’m way better at those.”

Clearing my throat, I flip the sticks over that I had pulled out. “Do your best to make me orgasm in the next five minutes--”

“Easy. I could do that from here.”

“Mm-hm,” I hum, before I read the next. “Fuck me in a room where we’ve never had sex before.”

“Oh-ho! Now we’re talking.”

“That’s hard. I don’t have many rooms.”

“Next time you’re here, we’ll go do it at Bianca’s place while she’s at work.”

“Nice.” The I pull out another one. “Wait a minute. Pretend you’re a cop and arrest me for the crime of being too sexy--”

He shouts another laugh. “Yes, please. I’ve always wanted to.”

“We’ll see if I let you.”

Gradually, his amusement tapers off and he lets out a heavy sigh. “Those are hilarious.”

“Yeah, they’re pretty good,” I agree.

“If I come up there and we get snowed in, we can have a game night.”

“I like that.” Clearing away some of the wrapping from my couch, I move to consolidate all the unwrapped gifts on my table.

“Well thank you,” he starts. “For my awesome presents. I love everything.”

“You’re welcome. Thank you for mine,” I tell him, getting up to take some of the trash to my kitchen, bringing the phone with me. “You all ready to leave tomorrow?”

“Pretty much. It’s like an hour flight. And then it should be a pretty chill few days.”

“Take lots of pictures.”

“Of me in a lounge chair? Alright I will.”

“I wouldn’t turn those down.” I smile. “But it is Christmas, so I hope you’ll be more generous than that when it comes to the pictures you send me.”

#jamie x noble #festive gift giving joble #this chapter is unnecessary but fun and they have so much love to give

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goodwriterwithbadhabits · 6 years ago

Text

Your Birthday is Valentines Day

My first ever Got7 reaction! Thank you @maileeart for requesting!

Masterlist

So important note, in Korea, Valentine’s Day is when girls show affection by gifting their S/O’s with Chocolates. The guys typically reciprocate a month later on March 14th for white day, so the idea that is his S/O’s birthday on Valentines day just seems really cute.

Anyway, onward and upward!

JB (My man!)

If you don't think JB would think your birthday being on valentines day isn't the best thing ever, You are so fucking wrong

You know he wants to be romantic

even though traditionally you're supposed to be

so you compromise and make chocolates together.

Something simple like crunch chocolates (The kind with the popped rice in them my favs)

But don't think he's going to let you lounge around all day

No, he's got plans

If you're dating JB you better like art, history, films, books,

Just the kind of things he's into,

it makes for a better mental connection

Back to the date at hand

First on his list is a museum trip

Some new exhibits opening and he's been queuing for tickets online for months

He'd be making all sorts of comments like “the art is pretty but you look better”

When you finally get home, you'd probably make dinner together

Boy likes cooking

Then you're just chilling on the couch, covered in cats when he gets up and puts a disk in the player

Sappy boi would have made a video about your relationship

Would he propose?

He would feel it would make it overwhelming

Today is about you and your relationship so far

Proposals can wait.

But he'd be ready to marry you as soon as his cats approved.

Mark

Mark is chill, but today is your birthday

That's a once a year thing

He would wake you up with kisses and breakfast in bed

Overall a lazy day

You probably got him some fancy chocolates, but he totally ends up feeding them to you

What a man

You probably end up making a fort in the living room later in the day

His motto is “hoodie required, pants optional”

If its cold its better

cuz then you have to snuggle up to him to keep warm

A horror movie marathon is a must

He fucking loves horror movies and he will use the fact that its valentines day against you

Plus if you get scared and squish your face into him he thinks its cute as fuck

Will definitely fall asleep in the fort with you

Would he propose?

Probably not

He would be more likely to do that on White Day

But today's your birthday, so you will be getting some cute shit from him

Just not a ring

Jackson

He would have told you the plans weeks if not months in advance

Only because he would 100 percent take you to another country

Probably New York for a week

You would spend a lot of time exploring

On Valentine's day itself, you would try to buy him chocolate but he would insist that because you're in America he should treat you.

He strikes me as a hardcore romantic

And he just uses your birthday as an excuse to be 100 times more romantic

Fancy dinners at expensive restaurants.

Watching the sunset from the Empire State Building

If you so much as breath towards something

He's gonna buy it for you

(Whoever dates this man is gonna be a lucky bitch)

Your day would end with a fancy candlelit bath, with wine and a floating cheese platter (and birthday sex)

Would he propose?

Let's be real

this kid would be proposing to you every chance he gets

But you always think he's joking so you brush it off

He would jokingly propose if you did something really sweet for you

But he'd wait until he was sure you both wanted to be together forever before proposing

Jinyoung

If my research on Got7 taught me anything

Its that Jinyoung is a little shit

He would pretend not to remember that its your birthday

He would do this literally every year, without a doubt

You would, understandably, be a little upset, but hey

Two can play at this game

You would just jokingly remark that “I guess Youngjae would like the chocolates more, I wonder if he's available today”

And Jinyoung would get a bit salty that of all his members you chose Youngjae to mock him with.

But he'd cave and offer to take you to a movie of your choice

On the way home though he would detour and you'd end up at the dorms.

He wouldn't listen to your questions and just push you through the door

He'd get your family, especially if you were foreign, and as many of your friends as he could

What a cheeseball

Would he propose?

But Korean culture has a few romantic holidays he can choose from

Youngjae

Seeing as he is nearly impossible to wake, you would wake up first

You spent hours preparing a beautiful chocolate cake,

Once he finally got up he would get so squishy while you made breakfast

Back hugging you with his face smooshed into your neck

He just tiredly wished you happy birthday while standing there

Once he was a functioning human, he would excitedly talk about your plans for the evening

He wanted you in something sexy, yet chic

He was taking you to dinner and you were gonna have a wonderful time

You looked like celebrities

I mean you are, but like you looked like you belonged on the red carpet

He took you to this kinda dimly lit restaurant and you made a joke that he should take over for the pianist

Once you had finished eating he excused himself and made his way to the piano

And you're like

“Wait, babe, you can't do that”

But he can, because he paid the restaurant owner Bambam to let him

But he announced that its his girlfriends birthday and that he wrote a song

Did you cry? Yes

He also cried, but only because he doesn't like seeing you cry

You two ended up all over the news

Would he propose?

If he was sure about you, oh yeah

Once the song was over he would make his way over to you and drop onto one knee.

Oh look you're both crying again

Bambam

You're both extra people

So you both expect the other to be extra while creating something simple

You had molds made of the cats paw prints and made chocolates in them.

He would probably either cry or ask you to marry him upon receiving them

He took you to the zoo.

You both love animals and he even paid extra so you could feed the giraffes and elephants

A little old lady commented that you reminded her of herself and her late husband

You spent the rest of your time in the zoo just a little pink

When you get home he gives you the rest of your gift

Tons of bath products

Y’all get a relaxing bath, then you get some silk PJs and cuddle on the bed with all your pets children

Would he propose?

No, he wants to be extravagant when he proposed

Months of planning and not a chance you’ll say no.

Yugyeom-

Sunshine child!

He would make you breakfast and try to be quiet about it but he's a loud boi

You got music note shaped chocolates made for him

He bought you flowers and pretty much anything you had mentioned wanting

You spend most of the day lounging around and goofing off

He would be so very cuddly all day

Nothing is getting done

He even Vlives just to tell the fans that it was your birthday

Expect so many kisses at any given moment

Once the sun had set he would be so different

He'd make you get dressed and take you dancing

Even paying the DJ to play a slow song so he had an excuse to hold you close and tell you how much he loved you.

Would he propose?

No,

He wouldn't want to ruin your birthday, just in case you said no

But he would be so loving

#got7 imagines #got7 jackson #got7 bambam #got7 imagine #got7 #got7 jaebum #got7 jinyoung #got7 mark #got7 yugyeom #got7 youngjae #got7 reactions #goodwriterwithbadhabits

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momestuck · 6 years ago

Text

Let’s read Hiveswap Friendsim... volume 17!

The penultimate volume. Let’s sacrifice a few more timelines to the great tapestry of fate that we’re weaving. Or more likely, Doc Scratch is weaving.

This time, “Of Teen and Tech, Acerbic”.

One more jade, and one more indigo. I think at this point we have a pretty even spread across the non-Sea Troll blood colours.

Daraya

I thought there was a TV show of this name, but apparently it’s ‘Daria’. This troll and that Daria seem to have a similar attitude, judging by the image. As for ‘Daraya’, it refers to a handful of places, notably Darayya in Syria, which was apparently the site of a massacre seven years ago during the civil war. Oof.

Daraya is the final troll written by Cee. L. Kyle, creator of prior memorable trolls Bronya, Zebruh, Remele and Lynera. I guess Cee likes writing jades.

Anyway, Daraya’s route begins as a few have in recent episodes - the protag feeling lethargic and listless, too tired to make friends.

We end up in a cerulean neighbourhood. There are some pointed lines...

When this game wants to, it really skewers its targets.

Anyway, the music kicks in as we realise Elwurd (the huge lesbian) texted us to invite us to a party. A bunch of other trolls seem to be showing up as well...

The track this time is called “trollkind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. to obtain something, something of equal value must be lost. that is alchemys first law of equivalent exchange. in those days, we really believed that to be the worlds one and only truth”. No prizes for guessing who decided to name a song after an extended quote from Fullmetal Alchemist.

There’s some more emphasis on how artificial our friendship feelings are...

Anyway, as we approach the party, we spot Daraya, busy looking very goffick.

She’s not thrilled to see us. Of course we’d be friends with Elwurd, she says grumpily.

Now in Befriend Mode, we do our best to mimic her whole ‘disaffected slouch’. Apparently being vaguely cynical and depressed is pleasing to Daraya. She seems to like Elwurd though...

Lesbians, I swear...

I swear...

Anyway, we learn that Daraya has snuck out of the caverns - though she’s not as restricted as little Wanshi. She whines about Bronya’s ‘cloister rules’. But hey, she met Elwurd through Bronya...

We blather about how the caves aren’t so bad, and namedrop some other jades we know. Daraya is not impressed.

Anyway, she’s not invited. So our first choice is to tell her to go home or invite her in.

Let’s let her in, because the other way doesn’t seem to go anywhere interesting.

Bronya isn’t the only troll we know at this party. Chahut apparently hasn’t yet shipped out off planet, and she shows up too.

Chahut makes some remarks about how fascinating she finds jadebloods... or ‘greenies’ as she puts it. She makes a murder joke about whether Daraya is really jade or not.

Yes, that’s exactly how I’d put it. Definitely.

After that brief brush with death, Daraya gets other ideas.

Mmhmm. As we head off, Daraya suggests we have a reputation for being ‘unconventional, weird and rebellious’. That’s certainly one way to describe ‘being a clueless alien pathologically addicted to making friends’.

Ahahaha nicely done.

Unfortunately we don’t have a lot of edgy rebellious ideas tonight.

I’m in favour of being a hoodlum.

Lots of new backgrounds in this episode. Somewhat different style too...

Apparently these are by Phil Gibson.

We ask Daraya how she’s doing. Her answer: not well.

Daraya says some dangerously radical stuff about how everything sucks for everyone but the highbloods... and maybe them too. We get a callback to the joke from last time...

Ha.

The narrator refuses to comment on that. That’s a good call, I think.

Daraya continues to complain. As a jadeblood, she’s not going to have to go into space, but life in the caverns tending to matters of social reproduction. We commiserate, which she appreciates.

We raise an eyebrow at the mention of Lynera. Danara assures us that she hates her - and not in a romantic way! (“or well...”)

At that point, we run into Tyzias. Just the person to take Daraya’s alienation and dissatisfaction and forge it into a revolutionary will, right?

Luckily, protag has the same idea. Which is no doubt why Tyzias was written into the plot at this point.

The well known “goth to anarchist” pipeline, right?

There’s a brief allusion to the weird shift that happened with Fozzer - a vague memory of a different Fozzer. “But why did you remember that guy?” indeed.

Tyzias tries to give a Daraya a little pep talk against hopelessness... Daraya is not particularly persuaded.

God I know that utterly depressing feel. What can one troll do, indeed?

Tyzias answers it the challenge.

She’s not wrong.

Daraya is not exactly being won over, but the protag does manage to get her to chill a bit and keep the conversation going. Tyzias has more real shit to say.

Daraya challenges her - is it just about making herself feel better, if there’s no realistic hope of real change? Tyzias says... in some way, it is. And the protag chimes in - that doesn’t make it less effective, at whatever little it is achieving.

At the end of this, I’m gonna try and make a list like... troll I would most want to be friends with in real life, and least, favourite route and so on. Spoilers: Tyzias would be the friend I’d want to make.

Tyzias points out like... what the hell else are they gonna do? Daraya finally admits she’s got a point.

And... having secured a friendship between not just us and Daraya, but us and Tyzias... we reach the end of the arc.

Let’s go fuck shit up. By which we mean, read law books. I guess!

That was nice. I fully support this lesbian goth and her budding revolutionary consciousness.

God I’m predictable.

Unfortunately, finding the friendship route here means it’s all downhill from here.

If we tell her to go home instead of bringing her to the party...

strut pod encasements!

That was predictably short.

OK, now for the non-phoned in side branch.

She does have an idea, it turns out. We hop into our (now quite low on fuel) car, and head off to a ruined city somewhere near the thriving one we’re living in.

Ooh. I wonder what we’ll find?

We make our way to an abandoned mall to go urbexing. Fuck, I love reading about urbex. Too much of a shut-in to have ever actually tried it.

We end up in a food court with the roof caved in. It’s apparently cool as hell. Alas, it’s not illustrated.

I’m not sure which rebellion this would be associated with. That of the Signless, or some other?

Ah, that narrows it down. The Signless rebellion, then. In which case... Alternian malls are really built to last!

We comment on the strangeness of the absence of adults, but this upsets Daraya.

Apparently, as an adult, she’ll be cloistered off on her own somewhere, and forbidden to contribute genes to the slurry. Huh.

To be honest, it’s a wonder that most other trolls are so cheery. Daraya’s attitude seems like the sensible one on this planet.

Daraya says some real shit about the existential dread she’s living with, the paralysing hopelessness of having no future to speak of.

Hey Daraya, do you fancy this copy of Baedan I happen to have on hand?

make total destroy etc. etc.

Anyway, at this point... Daraya somehow manages to set the mall on fire by throwing a mall at a cooker.

And... the narrator has no choice but to leave, as Daraya lets herself burn in the centre of the mall, one of the few places she cared about.

God, this episode was a bit real lol.

It’s not wrong though. Leftist theory certainly hasn’t cured my depression (lol), but it has given me some perspective to put it in a context where it can be managed, I guess. Something to work towards, no matter how futile it may be, in this fucking hell world that created me.

In the words of 2B... “Everything that lives is designed to end. We are perpetually trapped in a never-ending cycle of life and death. Is this a curse? Some kind of punishment? I often think about the god who blessed us with this cryptic puzzle... and wonder if I will ever get the chance to kill him.”

Let’s look to the struggle within the cycle. What else is there?

Nihkee

So now for...

Nihkee. She stronk. Keep your pants on, lesbians.

Nihkee is the creation of David Turbull, who previously made Tegiri (weeb) and Tirona (baby lawyer). Her theme, appropriately bombastic, is another James Roach piece with a long name: “lmao i still dont know if it’s nicky or nike (like the shoe, not like... the name mike)”. Make of that what you will.

This episode opens in media res - at a sporting arena. How did we get here?

We seem to be watching some kind of cage fight. Knowing trolls, I imagine it will be a lethal one.

Apparently we’re attending to Amisia. She bemoans the ‘boorishness’ of the purplebloods.

This seems to be the troll equivalent of pro-wrestling, rather than, say, MMA. However, injuries are a lot more common. We learn that Amisia won us tickets in a raffle, and invited us to this ‘Display of Muscular Theatre’.

We are watching The Huntress (olive) fight Cullpitz (purple). The narration mentions that Cullpitz is bizarrely un-clowny.

The fights are, naturally, rigged by hemospectrum. The narration notes that The Huntress seems to be deliberately holding back to avoid inciting the crowd. Amisia, however, is excited for the next competitor: Nihkee Moolah of course, who - Amisia claims - has never lost a fight.

Cullpitz wins the fight, and causes The Huntress a likely permanent injury. The protag feels sick enough to have to step away. But as we leave, we get drawn into a conversation with a violetblood (seadweller). He promises money (nah), fame (no thank you) and at last, friendship. And the deal is sealed.

Unfortunately, Nihkee’s opponent is dead. Which means... he wants us to take their place. Having an alien will make big money for the ring.

Let me guess: the choice is gonna be to refuse this terrible plan or go with it.

Maybe, but not yet...

We meet Nihkee, in the middle of working out. Some of these trolls are dressed more for MMA than pro-wrestling but who knows.

There’s a meta joke in the narration.

She is not best pleased with the showrunner for interrupting her prep. Though, I get the impression it’s all in the spirit of showtrollship.

Sure are some muscles. I’m not entirely sure what the [()] typing quirk is menat to represent exactly. Probably not a yonic symbol?

It’s worth noting at this point that all of my knowledge of professional wrestling comes from reading the TVTropes pages a couple of times. If you’re curious, it’s an impressively comprehensive discussion of wrestling terminology and the various dynamics involved in its production.

Kayfabe is the way wrestlers pretend in their media appearances that pro-wrestling competitions are not mostly scripted athletic performances with exaggerated personas, but genuine fights between real people who actually act like their stage characters. Now all the fans fully understand that wrestling is fake (but still fun), it’s not taken as seriously, but apparently it was a huge deal back in the 70s. Give the article a read, it’s fascinating.

Nihkee is not particularly impressed by the suggestion of performing with us.

We protest. At length.

We get the first choice: are we ready for a BUTT CLENCHING, FLESH ABRADING, KNUCKLE BLISTERING, MUSCLE RIPPLING, SMACKDOWN FROM UPTOWN?

Of course we fucking are.

She gives us guidelines for the show. Basically: follow her storyline. “The alien invader challenges me in an exhibition match to TOPPLE the MIGHTIARCHY.” We struggle, but eventually...

...PREVAILS AGAIN!

(I guess to convey suitable drama, a lot of Nihkee’s dialogue is split between multiple dialogue boxes, which makes it a little hard to take screenshots.)

We ask if we’ll die. She assures us no - unless we’re especially weak. But even then...

Well, that’s a great reason to die. Sign me up.

Secondly, an “exhibition match” means we will not be challenging each other for positions on the “flexeladder” - otherwise we’d have to wrestle nude, like at the “Intergalactic Trollympics”. I’d count that as a blessing.

We bring up the question of face and heel. You can read about these on tvtropes, but the narrator does a pretty good job of explaining.

In troll society, of course, the traits we’d ascribe to a ‘heel’ are valorised. So we’re just going to get crushed under her heel. Indeed.

Time for the match. The showrunner does the announcement for Nihkee.

In a clear allusion to good old Equius, Nihkee’s entrance is accompanied by a shower of thrown glasses of milk from the fans.

And opposing her whole deal is...

“Some messed up lowblood alien”. Huh, usually when I go into an arena fight in games I’m the “mysterious stranger”. Who could have seen this coming?

Ah, that’s what fate was working towards this whole time! Thanks, Doc Scratch, for your dedication to the cause of wrestling.

So, naturally, we’re playing the foreigner. Here to prove our superiority to trollkind. TVTropes naturally has an article on this: the Foreign Wrestling Heel. We’re going by the book here.

We put up a good bit of bravado. But are we prepared to face, Nihkee demands, her...

OK, you got me. I’m laughing out loud again.

The protagonist puts up a pretty good show, it seems like - barely dodging Nihkee’s attacks in a suitably dramatic fashion. We bleed, but the narration suggests that under the stage lights, the trolls will take it as ordinary ‘rust’ blood and not ‘mutant’ red. We hope.

Nihkee invites us to attack with appropriate pomp. But we...

...don’t do that, not directly. We springboard off the edge of the cage in “a classic clothesline manoeuvre”... and get knocked the fuck out.

But we haven’t reached our second decision point yet, so that can’t be the end of us. Hopefully we gave the trolls what they wanted.

Do we even have a fourth wall anymore?

Anyway, this turns out to be Nihkee’s hive. She is not impressed at our ring performance - getting knocked out by our own attack. Well, that’s fair.

Training montage incoming?

Hell yes. (She calls everyone sister, including the announcer guy, in case you’re wondering if that’s an implicit gendering of the protag.)

She’s brought us to her BRAWNISEUM. As we can see in the illustration... it’s pretty much made for Space Marines to train at.

After her speech about our indomitable will and potential, she invites us to ASCEND with her.

Hell yeah. Let’s [S] ASCEND together!

Of course we fucking take it.

We start with the acid treadmill. (The acid doesn’t seem to be depicted.) She turns it up... a bit fast.

We manage to run at 12 miles per hour - which is about bronze level good. Apparently all the machines rate us by blood colour. While the low end of the hemospectrum gets the badass psychic powers, the high end gets the physical strength, it seems. There’s more jokes about how great our legs are - they merit a cerulean!

All the while, Nihkee ‘encourages’ us in a way that’s gendered in the opposite way that things usually are on Earth.

After half an hour of that, she gives us a protein shake... except it’s not a protein shake but ‘gatorade mixed with milk’. Amazing.

Then we get tested for ‘pressure resistance’ in a soft iron maiden. Apparently that’s olive level.

The overall verdict?

Hooray.

We do more of this - including getting chased by a literal toothy monster. By the time we finally collapse...

She’s impressed by our commitment - our “strength of heart and soul”. And our great appreciation for the MOST RIGHTEOUS OF PURSUITS... earns us the recognition of “workout friend”.

And that rounds out the arc. Presumably after some more of this, the narrator will be due for a return to the ring.

Go us!

Easy arc to find the right answers in, evidently. Now to see what happens if we hesitate.

First of all, before the match...

We can’t watch as she pulls out lowblood challengers from the audience and smashes their faces into the spikes. Oh, trolls. We get treated to an image of this, too.

Mmm, indeed.

Now, if we hesitate later before the workout session...

She dismisses us - unworthy of her gifts, unwilling to reach our full potential.

She tells us to get out of her sight. The narration steps in to make another meta joke (that’s like three this arc?)

We get a fake out fade to black and the first note of the end card music... but then!

...GET RIIII(...)IIIPPPPPED! In our own way.

D --> Hmm, 100k at this e%tremely subtle reference.

Anyway, that someone turns out to be... Stelsa! And Tyzias, who happens to be present. There’s a brief discussion of a fast food service called ‘door smash’, and Stelsa’s love of scheduling. They’re cute together.

But let’s get down to business... to defeat...

...our own flimsiness.

Stelsa’s into it.

Then we hang with her and Tyzias for a bit. We suggest Tyzias might consider energy drinks.

This arc then extends over... a long time!

Multiple weeks! And the training seems to be going well...

It’s almost as if ‘drill sergeant’ isn’t the ideal demeanour for a coach after all.

But as we go to show off our progress to Nihkee, the question of this being a non-canon branch leads us to hesitate.

So we decide to ‘blitz our chakras’ to try and work this out. We put on some ocean noises (which leads to a change in the soundtrack! soft music starts playing, seguing into the menu music) and... start imagining some metaphors.

In our reverie, we slip beneath the surface of the river.

Things get kind of meta. I’m just gonna take a bunch of screenshots because this seems... important.

The images of failed branches, all these catastrophes, blur together on top of each other.

We are implored to ‘find our river’. And we find the two branches of the current route... one sounding much more inviting than the other.

Then things get REALLY meta.

And then we get the rest of the arc in some kind of summary form, all in this... letterboxed? That’s not the right word, but whatever... all in this view. Nihkee is not pleased to see us. We come up with the idea of sneaking in.

It does not seem to end well.

She chases us on one leg and we escape by getting her run over by a train. But she becomes a cyborg coming to chase us down, terminator-like. Yeah, seriously.

NIHKEEBORG spends a year hunting us across the wilderness. And eventually... she catches us. We die.

And coming out of the meditation, we decide... not to do that. We just go to Stelsa’s house instead, and let Nihkee be.

Oof.

God, you never know what you’re going to stumble onto in this game. That was amazing.

Next time: FINAL CHAPTER.

#momestuck #lets read hiveswap friendsim

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cosmicanger · 3 years ago

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“with as many lgbt musicians and artists that aren’t being given the same entry into the music world, why are we content with being background noise for cis het women still? why are we just a trend to hop on when the girls run out of ideas? what is “homage” when we’re still here? how many times are we just gonna let Big Freedia be the background noise for every artist that feels like they want to suddenly give our community temporary basic respect??? what “wins” do our musicians have other than just being a sample to be used on cheap vogue tracks? how long is everyone just going to accept being an accessory before they realize the black lgbt has the best musicians in the world and that the support should be redirected?! oh well. it’s like speaking to a bunch of cows. just eating the grass waiting to be turned into a burger. you don’t see none of these cis het women out fighting for us and risking their career for us but somehow every time they need a pick-me-up, they run to the LGBT. it’s kinda silly to look at. and we fall for it each time and yet they still use their money and fame to do nothing. like. i get it we’re cool but also it’s like okay now what? das it. not gonna address all this shit going with us and our rights? just a tribute album? not gonna put queer artists on? lol. it’s whatever. Just to clarify. I only have lgbt musician mutuals. i was more so talking to them/with them. not the rest of y’all. we talk about this stuff literally all the time in our spaces. It’s not just about Beyoncé, idc bout her. she just happened to be the most recent person to do this. I keep getting quotes from people who don’t know anything about music and what lgbt musicians face. so that’s just what i needed to clarify. But i’m not the first person to say this. This has been a discussion for 20+ years since Madonna’s Vogue.”

“this shit is very accurate. i do believe we gotta stop going so hard for these cishets too. we turn out in droves to support these hoes that literally feeds us crumbs and be silent when it comes to fellow queer artists lol.”

“Literally. it kinda makes me upset cause Byrell The Great can make her something way better than the song she made with his sample. And it would shake the industry. but instead we just got interpolations of what culture for us was 7 years ago.”

“no one wants to talk about the way cishets love to really gatekeep their coin and access for themselves cause there is truly no other reason for these artists not to exclusively have queer artists as features, producers, and songwriters ESPECIALLY if the goal is to pander 2 us.”

source

all of this !!!! this is Beyoncé’s queerbait album to me even if it is highly skilled singing wise and production wise. if Beyoncé was about it, every Black LGBTQIA+ who did any labor for the album would have a house and car paid off for them and enough money to have live off for a while. That family got the money. like she would never tho. no rich celeb Black or non-Black would do that. and someone do the numbers on tracks, how many people were actually listed as featured on tracks that were Black cis men & non-Blacks & how many that were Black LGBTQIA+. and not them being sampled but did production or lyrics or background vocals or verses or hooks like integral to the tracks. its like Solange’s albums. be so “proBlack” but you look who listed and its like… thats a lot of white people here and nonblack people on Beyoncé doing radical chic pop funk to appeal as many as possible to make more money she doesnt need like with the world what is it right now people were worried about getting tour date tickets then idk the two pandemics we are in right now? like people love celebrity culture, celebs and non-Black people too much.

#beyonce #beyoncé #nonblack comments not welcome

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levirens · 7 years ago

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[fanfic] of cold arms and pale lips 1/2

Summary: Yuuri is torn between laughing and crying at the absurdity of the situation. The whole point of him leaving was so he could run away from the (literal) ghost of his past yet here he is, watching a silver-haired apparition dance ballet to classical music.

By the time the song ends, Yuuri’s cheeks are wet and he finds that he’s been clutching at his shirt, his hand directly above his heart. The ghost stands before him holding a pose, one arm extended towards Yuuri and a pale finger pointing at him. A moment passes before the ghost seemingly sags, his arms dropping to his sides and his body losing its graceful posture. The ghost smiles, a forlorn upturn of pale lips, and he whispers, “Thank you.”

He prides himself on his ability to stay in people’s blind spots, knowing just when to act and knowing how to trick people’s brains into making him blend in with the environment. To their brains, he’s a blemish, an anomaly that they can’t figure out and so they simply erase him from their sight. Nobody takes notice of him unless he wants them to, unless he does something that warrants their fleeting attention.

That’s fine by him.

He feels the slight rumble of the ground and lifts one foot up, letting it dangle precariously by the edge of the platform. No one takes notice, people going on with their lives as though nothing were amiss. He figures that if he does it just right, if he jumps at the perfect moment, he’d get away with it. The people milling around, they would only be able to see him once he gets into the bigger picture— in front of a fast-approaching train.

That’s fine by him.

The rumbling gets stronger, reverberating inside him through his bones and into the hollow pit in his chest. He sees a girl from the corner of his eye, blond hair tied up into pigtails and a tattered doll hanging from her hand. It’s obvious she’s not one of them, proof being the gaping hole where a fraction of her skull used to be and the red splattered on her dress. For a fleeting moment, he allows himself to think about her, to briefly imagine what life she used to lead and what led to her death, then he prepares for the jump.

“You shouldn’t do that.”

Yuuri whips his head around, staring at the man standing beside him. Blue eyes stare back, a ghost of a frown hanging around the space between the man’s eyebrows. Yuuri’s eyes shift and lands on a shock of silvery gray hair, his mouth almost opening to sound a response. He stops, blood running cold as he spots his mistake just as the man hurriedly speaks.

“You can see me?”

There’s a deafening ringing in his ears, his once hollow chest feeling heavy with dread. He turns, willing himself to calm down. Darting his eyes around, he sees that none of the others have paid the exchange much attention, but that would soon change if he doesn’t get away from the place. He can feel the silver-haired man’s gaze on him, a hand raised as if to reach out and grab him.

No, Yuuri thinks. Not this shit again. He remembers how he had once interacted with one of them, a high school girl sporting a gunshot over her chest. She had followed him home, turning malevolent once Yuuri made it clear he was not open to having a roommate. That situation had escalated into a monthly appointment with a shrink and a one-way ticket to live halfway across the world.

He begins to walk, intent on going to a nearby mall area where he plans to lose the silver-haired man in the crowd. He maintains a brisk pace, moving against the rush of people heading for their morning commute. He rounds a corner and uses this opportunity to check behind him, stopping dead in his tracks when he sees the silver-haired man still standing by the platform, watching people board the train.

Yuuri runs for it, periodically checking behind him to make sure he still isn’t being followed. He still takes the long way home, making sure he passes by as many crowds as he can, doing his best to blend in. It’s only when he’s checked about a hundred times behind him and another hundred through the peephole of his door that he allows himself to breathe. He makes his way into his room on wobbly legs, his limbs shaking from the effort it takes him to contain the sobs threatening to spill out.

Staying in people’s blind spots is one of his skills, seeing and being able to interact with ghosts is another. One skill he took pride in and utilized on a daily basis, the other the reason why there are scars adorning his skin. Both gifts of sight, one allowing him to evade it and one allowing him to see beyond what is human. He drags a hand over his face, the image of blood-matted silver hair burned into his retinas. The blue-eyed man had seem upset at Yuuri, most probably aware of his own death and unable to believe that one of the living would want that for themselves, would willingly throw away their life when his had obviously been stolen from him.

Yuuri has half the mind to feel guilty. He walks over to the bathroom, stripping himself of the heavy winter clothes while he lets the tub fill with warm water. Tomorrow, he would go look for a job again, hopefully one with a decent enough pay that he can stop receiving the money his parents send him on a monthly basis. Then he’d be able to stop talking to them and stop pretending for their sake that their son is perfectly sane.

His parents love him, that he’s sure of. They make sure he knows this by telling him through text and through call on the rare occasion that he answers the phone. Every time he’d get the envelope containing the cash his parents continuously shelled out for him, there would be a note inside. Sometimes it would be his mother reminding him to never skip meals, sometimes it would be his father asking him when he’d be coming back, and, on rare occasions, it would be his sister asking him how he’s doing.

He never answers any of the notes, but he keeps them in a small container, along with the few items he had allowed himself to take with him from his old home.

Tomorrow, he would look for a job. He’s not hopeful, his bachelor’s degree and various skills usually boiling down to nothing once employers flip over the pages of his resume and they see the medical warning that he comes with.

Tomorrow, he would try, but today he simply climbs into the bathtub and wishes the water would somehow find its way over his head.

Yuuri wants to act surprised, wants to feel surprised, but he had expected this. The woman behind the desk is looking at him with an almost apologetic look in her eyes, her mouth moving along to the words that Yuuri has been hearing interview after interview for over six months now.

“We’ll let you know, expect a call from us,” is one of the most common ones, most companies not even bothering to come up with an excuse to not hire him. There’s also the mighty, “The spot’s already been filled, but we’ll keep your contact details in case we have an opening.” The woman uses something along those lines, visibly squirming uncomfortably when Yuuri fails to react on time.

“Mister...” she looks down at his paper. “... Katsuki. Mister Katsuki, are you alright?”

“Sorry,” he says slowly, his mouth feeling like it had been stuffed with cotton balls. This had been the last interview on his list, all the others had been failures of similar kind. “Thank you for lending me your time.” He takes his files from the woman’s hands, bows his head, and leaves the building. A part of him wants to scream, wants to tear at his suit and rip his hair out from its roots. An act like that wouldn’t really do much damage at this point, not when everybody already thinks he’s crazy.

The cold air outside hits him across the face the moment he steps a foot onto the asphalt, snow already collecting on the ground. He brings his scarf up to cover half of his face, keeping his head turned down and his eyes firmly latched on the ground before him. He lets his feet lead the way, walking with no particular destination in mind. His hands start to feel numb, the thin gloves doing nothing to protect them from the cold. Each breath he takes is a bit more painful than the last, and when it becomes too much to endure, he lifts his head and looks around, trying to determine where he’d ended up.

His eyes catches sight of a person walking down the street opposite him, facing away from him and giving Yuuri a clear view of his soiled clothes. There’s a mixture of excrement and blood on the hospital gown and Yuuri shivers, turning away before noticing the store in front of him. The neon sign is turned off, cursive letters spelling out Eri’s Music, and the exterior of the store looks like it needs some repairing here and there. What truly catches Yuuri’s attention is the sign hanging around the store’s door, words written out in a crude handwriting.

Hiring: Store Clerk

Yuuri clutches at the documents in his hand, peering inside the shop to see a decent number of customers walking around and perusing CDs and albums. He’s opening the door before he registers what he’s doing, the chime of the bell drawing very little attention from the customers and only an inquisitive look from the man standing behind the counter.

“Yes?” the man prompts when Yuuri just stands there, gawking. “Can I help you?”

“I read the sign,” he blurts out, walking towards the counter. At the man’s raised eyebrow, Yuuri rushes to add, “The hiring. You’re still hiring, yes?”

Yuuri thinks he sees relief wash over the man’s expression before he grins at Yuuri, seemingly in triumph. “Hey boss, what did I tell you about that sign? We already have an applicant.” He turns to Yuuri, leaning over the counter to appraise the latter’s appearance. “You look fancy. You sure you want to work here? Pay’s not bad but it can’t buy you a suit like that.”

Yuuri blinks, looking down and wincing. He had picked this outfit thinking he’d be able to impress the employers, maybe make him look put together and capable of a desk job. He almost snorts at how stupid and naive the idea was. “I’ve been looking for a job,” he explains, glancing up and immediately looking away when he sees the smirk aimed at him. “I’ve worked at a shop before.”

“Fantastic,” the man beams just as someone claps him on the back. He turns to the taller male standing behind him and gestures to Yuuri. “Says he’s worked at a shop before.”

The taller male, a blonde with a muscular frame and a reasonably attractive face, jerks his head at Yuuri and motions for him to follow. He’s lead to the backroom, an office of some sort, and the blonde looks at him expectantly, a hand outstretched. Yuuri realizes the man is waiting for him to hand over his files.

Yuuri’s folder in hand, the man walks around his desk and sits down, briefly flipping through the papers. He stops at the last page, the one detailing Yuuri’s mental health, then opens a drawer and promptly shoves the folder inside. “Kristoff, the guy outside, will be going back to university soon. You’d have to take over his shift. You alright with working until around 10 PM?”

“Yes, sir,” Yuuri answers, his heart beating loudly against his chest. The man briefly asks him about his experience working at his parent’s inn, seemingly satisfied that he won’t be needing any training regarding the counter and customer assistance. He thanks the man, shaking his large hand, and exits the room feeling infinitesimally lighter. The shift would be long, starting from 9 AM to 10 PM, but the pay would be more than enough to cover his rent and living expenses.

Kristoff spots him and nods. When Yuuri answers with the slightest bit of a smile, the other male winks at him. “See you tomorrow.”

As it turns out, the store has a pretty decent amount of loyal patrons. Kristoff’s job usually consists of locating CDs and albums for customers, restocking shelves, working the counter, and cleaning around the store. Yuuri shadows him for a day and then they split the work between them, Yuuri mostly taking on cleaning and restocking.

A week passes by and Yuuri settles into a routine. He arrives on time, cleans the store, restocks, eats lunch, cleans whenever there aren’t any customers around, and occasionally helps out with the counter. He realizes that there really isn’t much to do at the store despite the long shift, which is probably why he usually sees Kristoff sneaking around the backroom to nap or use his phone. When the other male isn’t doing his job or slacking off, he’s bugging Yuuri.

“You know, you’re really quiet,” Kristoff tells him, watching Yuuri rearranging their CD display. “Like, really, really, really quiet.”

Yuuri laughs, the sound sounding nervous and forced even to his own ears. He doesn’t know what Kristoff expects him to say to that and because he can’t think of a response himself, he goes back to rearranging the CDs. He feels the other male’s eyes on him and turns to Kristoff, racking his brain for something to say.

Kristoff speaks again before Yuuri can formulate something to say. “You are Asian, right?”

Yuuri nods, thankful that this, at the very least, he can answer. “Japanese.”

The other male moves so he isn’t just staring at Yuuri work, grabbing a few CDs and arranging them. From what Yuuri sees, Kristoff mostly just pulls out random CDs, looks at them, then places them back. He asks, “What does your name mean?”

Yuuri hesitates, surprised by the question. “The kanji of Yuuri can be read as “courage to win” or something like that.” At that, he feels Kristoff turn to look at him. Yuuri meets the other male’s eyes and squirms when Kristoff just keeps on staring. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Kristoff says, moving away from the shelves. He opens his mouth, seemingly to say something, but quickly closes it again, his eyes snapping down to glance at Yuuri’s scarred wrist before flicking away. He’s looking at something on Yuuri’s cheek when he says, “I’m off, school starts tomorrow. I’ll see you around on Friday.”

Yuuri hums in response, moving on to the next shelf and waving goodbye at the other male. With Kristoff gone and few customers around, the only thing that fills the silence of the place is the music. The owner had explained to him how to use the sound system and had given him a flash drive containing the week’s playlist. Yuuri is unfamiliar with most of the songs but he finds that none of them are terrible. He would often look at the laptop, liking a song enough that he would write down the title on his phone so he’d be able to listen to it at home.

He sees the customer looking around the counter, a couple of CDs in hand, and he rushes to attend to them. Not many people come in after that, one or two looking around but not buying anything. Around nine, the owner leaves him with Kristoff’s copy of the keys to the front door, tasking Yuuri with closing up. Alone and with nothing to do, he starts flipping through the songs on the laptop, looking for familiar ones.

With a song playing, he wanders around the store, cleaning up as he went. No one comes in, no one usually does around this hour, and he’s able to do the closing cleaning just as the song comes to an end. Another song comes on, one he’s unfamiliar with, so he moves to change it when he sees someone standing in front of the counter.

He feels his stomach drop, his legs unwilling to move any further once his eyes settle on blood-stained silver hair. There’s a tightness in his throat that he knows would result in a scream if he unscrews his mouth open, so he keeps it shut, eyes flickering to the CCTV camera closest to him. He tells himself to breathe, orders his legs to move and carry him towards the counter.

I’ll pretend I don’t see him, he tells himself. He’ll go away. He’ll go away. He has to go away.

Yuuri keeps his face expressionless and walks toward the counter, watching from the corner of his eye as the ghost turns to look at him. He reaches for the laptop to change the song, already about to click on the NEXT button when something stops him.

“Please don’t.”

Yuuri’s hand stills, long enough for it to be an obvious response to the ghost’s words. He wants to punch himself, wants to hurt himself so bad for being so goddamn stupid. He tries to think of his next move, tries to come up with a way that he’d able to brush off his hesitation and keep on pretending that he’s the only one in the store right now.

“I...” the ghost starts, interrupting his thoughts. When the man speaks again, Yuuri notes how his voice is thick with emotion. “I remember this.”

There’s something almost desperate in the ghost’s tone, something that causes Yuuri to slowly look up. The ghost isn’t looking at him, blue eyes staring down at his hands. Then the ghost moves and Yuuri is just about ready to bolt until he sees the silver-haired man twirl, hands extended as if they were holding someone against him.

It takes Yuuri a moment to understand what the ghost is doing. The music, the movement of his body... Yuuri has been able to see ghosts all his life, but he has never seen a ghost dance ballet up until that very moment.

The man dances with the utmost grace, leaping into the air and landing on his toes. Yuuri finds himself entranced, watching everything with wide eyes. He catches glimpses of the ghost’s expression, face filled with such sorrow that Yuuri feels something in his heart flutter in response. He feels tears prick behind his eyes, bewildering him, and he chalks it up to his brain being unable to cope with the fact that he’s watching a ghost dance with both immense beauty and unbearable sadness.

Yuuri is torn between laughing and crying at the absurdity of the situation. The whole point of him leaving was so he could run away from the (literal) ghost of his past yet here he is, watching a silver-haired apparition dance ballet to classical music.

When Yuuri arrives the following morning, the owner looks at him strangely. He sees the owner’s eyes flicker down to look at his wrists, an almost imperceptible nod following soon after. “Are you okay?” the owner asks him, much to Yuuri’s surprise.

Yuuri thinks back to what happened last night, belatedly realizing what it must have looked like through the CCTV footage: Yuuri, standing by the counter, listening to classical music and crying while staring into space. He looks down at his arms, wondering if the owner had been checking to see if Yuuri had attempted to do something.

Not that he would see anything there even if Yuuri does decide to hurt himself. It’s been months since he came to the realization that cuts on his arms were just too noticeable, too risky.

“Yes,” Yuuri says, maintaining eye contact with the owner. “I’m okay, thank you for asking.”

At his answer, the owner nods and leaves him to do his job. With Kristoff’s absence, the owner lets Yuuri eat lunch at the backroom while the blonde male takes over the counter. Yuuri eats as fast as he can without choking on his food, the owner’s surprise evident when Yuuri returns to his post not more than ten minutes after he left.

“It’s fine, I’m a fast eater,” he tells the owner. An elderly man approaches them, asking for a copy of The Carpenters’ last album. Yuuri takes this as his signal to get back to work.

The store is busier than usual today, Yuuri noticing how he’s almost never alone the whole time. He interacts with most of the customers, following the tips that Kristoff had given him. On more than one occasion, Yuuri is asked for his recommendation and he timidly suggests a band that he’s recently gotten into. He smiles when a couple of people listen to his recommendation and buy the album.

Before leaving, the owner reminds him he can close shop before 10 PM. Yuuri nods, his eye flickering to the clock. He watches as the number of customers dwindle down until he’s down to the last one, a student who looks around as if only noticing for the first time how late it is and that he’s the last one there. The student mumbles an apology and heads out without buying anything.

The ghost returns right before Yuuri’s about to shut down the laptop, making his heart race and his body go rigid for a second. He feels himself relax when he sees the ghost giving him a small smile. Yuuri thinks he might just be imagining things but the smile looks almost sheepish, a request hiding behind the ghost’s blue eyes. He looks at the ghost then at the laptop, a silent question. The ghost nods, making the hair on the back of Yuuri’s neck raise.

He looks for the same song from last night, ignoring the way his mind screams at him for interacting with a ghost and fulfilling its request. As if to make him painfully aware of the mistake he’s about to make, his mind flashes back to the last time he had been stupid enough to associate himself with the dead, his hand stilling before he could press PLAY. He looks at the ghost, still smiling at him shyly, and remembers how it had simply disappeared after dancing last night.

He plays the song and watches as the ghost immediately starts dancing, the movements similar from last night but somehow appearing more calculated. Yuuri has no doubt that this ghost, this man, used to be a great dancer before he had died. The thought of that reminds Yuuri of the blood on the man’s hair, knowing that if he were to look he would see the wound on the man’s skull.

Similar to last night, the performance ends with the silver-haired man pointing at him and then disappearing into thin air, leaving Yuuri breathless and with a strange sort of sadness that has him screwing his eyes closed. He stays rooted in place for a few moments, the silence surrounding him doing nothing to ease the thoughts scattered around his brain. He starts packing up, his body moving on auto-pilot and his mind still trying racing. He knows he shouldn’t entertain the ghost, shouldn’t have in the first place and shouldn’t continue to do so. On the forefront of his mind he knows this couldn’t possibly end well.

Still, he finds himself listening to the little voice speaking to his conscience, the part of him that tells him that the silver-haired dancer wouldn’t do anything to him. This little voice tells him that Yuuri might not know the man but he knows the look in the dead man’s eyes, knows it because he sees it every time he looks in a mirror and every time he sees himself reflected in people’s eyes. He knows what it feels like to be surrounded by people but still be all alone.

Yuuri knows what it’s like to be invisible.

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stlynnthoria · 7 years ago

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Today while napping....

I had a very interesting dream where I was on some sort of stream with Chris Demarais, Michael Jones, Jeremy Dooley, and I think some other Roosterteeth people were there in the background? Anyway, I don't really remember what we were talking about on it but I guess the cameras were set up for bust shots, because I was there without pants. At one point I made a comment about someone's clothes and Michael was like "Man you have no room to talk, like what are YOU wearing on your legs? What is that??" And there was lots of laughter but it was towards the end of the stream and so I was like "It's nothing, I dunno what you're talking about! You're gonna make the audience think there's somehjng weird about me but this is completely normal!" And he was like "Yeah no, if you don't wanna explain thats fine but whatever is up woth you that's not normal" then looked at the camer and said "Just so you know, she's not normal, I dunno why we have her here" and then Chris was like "Hey now, it may be a luck thing or something" and Michael was like "Who's getting lucky with her?? Is it you?" And Chris and I were both backtracking with that and there was more laughter. After the stream ended, Jeremy asked if it was my fav pair of underwear and I was telling him how it was and I'd had them for years (???? What even dream-me?), and he askes if I was going commando and I was like what? So he explained that he has a lot of underwear that has holes where his balls are and be understands how uncomfortable chaffing can be because of that, so is it ever uncomfortable? And like no that's why I've had this pair for years they're super comfy.

And then Jeremy asked me to do him a favor, and it was to go to North Korea with him to visit his parents. I said yes and he was like "I didn't think you would say yes!" Ans Chris was nearby and was like "That is insane!" And I said "What's so crazy about it, I have the extra money for it and I've always wanted to go to an Asian country. I mean, I was aiming more for Japan, but this works" Then we set off for the airport without me even packing anything. We took like this subway to it, and met Gavin Free and Meg Turney there for it (they were going to North Korea for something else). While on the subway, we stood by this Korean chick and some white dude. They seemed to know eachother, and the white dude was talking about how the Korean chick was a legit prostitute and how she should be used to him coming on to her, and she was trying to say she wasn't. Eventually the guy stopped talking to her and started some convo with Meg and was getting uncomfortably close to her, until Gavin casually slid between their bodies ans stares the dude down. After we got off the Subway, I turned to Meg and was like "That's the best real life anime block save I've seen! He's good boyfriend material!" And she was like "Yeah I love when he does that it makes me feel so special. I just wish there was a way I could shout a phrase and he could do it faster" and I was like "Yeah but then you run the risk of turning him from thoughtful boyfriend to possessive boyfriend" and she was like "Yeah that's true" (glad that shit made sense to you dream-Meg because wha???). Then I grabbed her hand and declared that we HAD to talk anime.

The Airport we went to was like freakishly huge with a really, really long sidewalk up to it. So Meg started singing anime theme song mashups on the way up (she was really good) and I joined her, and we chatted about the shows and how Gavin never really listened to her about the shows on the way up. Jermey and Gavin were chatting about the new rules of flying in the background and how Trump was now making security keep a list of people who have tickets, and then another 'Trump-approved' list of people whi could fly without tickets. And how there's been a lot lf problems with it because anyone whi isn't white passing or part of the military are being put in waiting rooms before flieghts because of it, and some people have missed flieghts as a result. I'm thinking I'll be fine because I have two brother's in the miltary (nive use of foreshadowing, dream-brain). Finally we reach the airport, but Gavin and Meg split off because they parked their car here before work I guess and they needed to go put a sticker on it? So me and Jeremy start walking towards the security for this place, but we have to go all the way across the building for it. At one point we start to walk by a guy in a YouTube shirt and Jeremy goes "Watch this" and shouts "Hi I'm Jeremy Dooley!" And the guy just stares at him blankly. And I guess I have a YouTube channel, because I give him my username for it and he just nods at me. But then he does a doubke take and just stares at me and goes, "You were on Miles Luna's livestream!" And internally I was like "knew it" because appearantly we all knew it would be known as that even tho Miles wasn't on the livestream at all?? And I was like "yeah I am" as a passed him. But the dude followed us and was like "Are you dating him?" And I was like "No" and somehow I knew he would ask me out. Then the dude took of his shirt and said "Wanna date me?" And I was like "No thanks" and he was all "But why?" But then we were at the security gate so he left. There was a little old lady in front of us, and after giving her name to the agent he asked her what she did, who she was going to see, and a few other questions I couldn't hear and then told her she had to step aside and go to another desk. As this is happening, another security gaurd clears Jeremy. I get the security gaurd that just sent the old lady to the waitint room and now I'm not so sure I'll be fine because that old lady looked white af. So he takes my name and asks me how my day is and I say great and then he asks me if I like Harry Potter and I'm like "I love it! Its my favorite series" and he smiles at me and says that's nice and for a second I think he'll let me pass.....and then he sends me off to the side, to the same desk as rhe little old lady and I'm like shit. So I tell Jeremy I'll catch up to him. At this point I think its a good thing we showed uo three hours early. So I go to the desk and the guy there calls me something completely different, so I correct him, and then he's like "Okay i think I may see you here but we have to check a few things" and sends me to the side room, which is up some escalators that go down instead of up. The little old lady is at the escalators and she's bitching about how she's too old for this but goes up there anyway. Once we're in the room we're told to take off our shoes and put on provided slippers for some reason. The room is PACKED for some reason. I'm confused because it seems to be a very mixed group, until I hear someone talking about hiw J.K. Rowling is doing an event in North Korea a few hours after the flight lands and everyone flying out of the U.S. for past events similar to it have had the same issues and some even missed their flights. And I realize they're not just targetting POC but Harry Potter fans too for some reason, and I got caught up in it because I got my ticket last minute.

So I sit there for a bit, fuming because its bullshit. Then I decide to act like my name is called, and I go down the escalator and manage to get past the ticket gate cuz the room is behind the security check but there's no gaurds outside it. I go to one of those moving floor things, thinking it will take me to my gate, but there's like three of them and they're all color coded. Turns out there actually for baggage and halfway though it I realize this and try to get off, but then a different gaurd spots me doing this. I tell the gaurd this is my first time at this airport and he explains to me what luggage each belt is supposed to be for. So I leave my bag and jacket on the belts, and he leads me to a different belt. He explains to me that this is for travellers and it will incase me in a protective 'film' for travelling but there's no one else there, just these weird circular things going on these belts and encasing them in what looks like plastic, and I turned to him and go "what the hell??" And he just looks at me and is like "What do you think that is?" And I say "I think its a vacuum plastic machine and you're trying to kill me!" And he's all "I know you didn't pass the security check" and starts on the rant about people like me who break the rules result in people being fired, and he knows Trumps regulations are bullshit but its still not fair for me to do this, so I deserve to die. At this point a different gaurd appears with a piece of paper. The gaurd I'm talking to looks at it, pales, and stammers out an apology to me and says I can go, but I have to go to a specific restaurant in the food court first to talk to some doctor. And I'm like fine, I still have 2 hours till my flight anyway.

But as I'm heading out I hear the security gaurd ask the second gaurd how long I have left, and the second gaurd say "We really don't know" and now I'm creeped out but I hope it has something to do with my anaemia and its nothing series. So I show up at the food court and spot the doctor, and as I approach him he seems very upset so I'm like "what's wrong?" And he says "I lost my 50th gold coin! That was the last coin I needed for the collection and I lost it!" And somehow I know the airport is doing a thing where if you collect like 100 gold coins scattered around the airpirt you get a prize. And I'm thinking this doctor is too old for this, and go to sit down. But as I do I spit a gold coin with the number 50 on it. So I pick it up and say to the doctor "Here, I think this is yours" and he takes it from me and suddenly theres fireworks and confetti everywhere as he celebrates. Then the dream ends.

Still don't know what I was dying from. Also didn't even get to see dream-Korea.

#north korea #rooster teeth #roosterteeth #jeremy dooley #chris damarais #miles luna #gavin free #meg turney #michael jones #my dreams

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notalwaysontime · 7 years ago

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Video Bootleg Guide

This is everything you need to know about The Release of new Video Boots, both before and after you get them, and information about how it all goes down for those who are confused about it, thus making them get very upset when a new one comes out and they can’t get it. A little understanding goes a long way.

I Apologize in advance for the length of this, but I wanted to include explanations not just dos and don’ts, because I know when I understand WHY, I’m more likely to remember and comply.

There’s been a lot of issues about the releases of new video bootlegs lately. And almost all the issues stem from people who jump into it without actually knowing or taking the time to find out how the whole process works. Beyond NFT Date confusion and the reason you buy it in the first place, which gets talked about endlessly, There are more things that come up that people don’t seem to realize it’s not ok to do, or could be damaging, also how to go about actually buying the bootlegs so here’s everything you need to know.

One thing to remember about this is that IT. IS. NOT. LEGAL. This is not an activity that should be splashed around all over the place. You really should not be openly advertising and shouting it from the rooftops. There should not be a hundred posts in a show’s tag saying things like “THERE”S A NEW _______ BOOTLEG OMG SOMEONE GET IT! WHO”S THE MASTER? WHERE DO I GET IT??????” Like a little subtly guys, seriously, keep this shit on the down low. You all really suck at treating this for what it is. If you’re gonna buy drugs, you’re not gonna yell out on the street “YO! THIS GUY HAS WEED COME BUY IT FROM HIM OVER HERE.” Or “EVERYONE LOOK I HAVE WEED, WHO WANTS SOME!?” A little discretion goes a long way, and understand that if you have none, you’re less likely to actually get answers from people when you have questions because the people who know what’s up won’t feel like they can trust you. I understand excitment. BE EXCITED! Just don’t throw all that excitement up in public posts.

Bootleg Releases/Buying the Videos

* Most masters have a mailing list you can get on, but they also announce their releases elsewhere. Do not expect people to just tell you who they are out in the open though. We protect the masters AT ALL COSTS, and honestly, most of what follows here is for that very protection. They risk A LOT so we can have these videos, and in return, the least we can do is protect them as best we can. That means private messages/emails/etc, not public (and as mentioned above, if it seems clear that you have no desire to respect, don’t expect to actually be given the information.)

* One big no no that’s been happening more and more lately is releasing masters’ screen caps. In the initial releases, masters will provide you with screen caps so that you can judge the quality of the video for yourself, and decide if you want to buy it or not if the quality matters to you. (It doesn’t to me so I almost never look at them, but some people it does). These caps are NOT for you to post. Like stop doing that. Remember what I said about protecting the master at all costs? Posting these is the opposite of that. It draws attention to them and the fact that this video exists and since it’s a new release it’s a hell of a lot easier to find than say one that’s been out for years. Do NOT underestimate Tumblr’s reach. People in the business have been catching wise to its existence for a long time now. You know that little show doing it’s Pre-Broadway run in Denver? A TON of stuff on Tumblr has been flagged by the people in charge of that show and taken down by Tumblr for violation. INCLUDING THE SCREEN CAPS FROM THE BOOT THAT SOMEONE POSTED. You know what that means? It means they knew it existed within days of it being filmed. That is not good. So please, I know you want to share them, I know you’re excited, but do NOT post these screen caps, share them privately, but do not post them.

* Before you contact the master, read all the information in their release posts, if any of their minimal guidelines are ones you cannot comply with, don’t contact them, it’s that simple. Wait for the NFT Date at that point. If it’s a solvable problem, ask someone else for help, but do not bother them with this extra burden, they have enough to deal with. (Ex. One master makes it clear they only take bitcoin, so if you cannot pay that way, do not waste their time. Either that, or find someone who can help you learn how to, or figure out how to pay them that way BEFORE you send an email)

* Masters are not quick to respond. They just aren’t. They have a lot of people contacting them, a lot of information to keep straight (not to mention they have jobs and lives). Email them once. THEY WILL GET BACK TO YOU. It can take 1-2 weeks to get an initial response about payment information. And once payment is made it can take another 1-2 weeks to actually receive the video. I usually don’t expect to have the DVD or link in hand until a month after I send my initial email.

* Every master is quite clear about their payment information and how they want things done, the directions are simple, so follow them to make their lives easier, because again, they have a lot to keep track of.

* It’s been said to death, but the reason we pay is to help them cover the expensive costs of getting us bootlegs in the first place. Its the least we can do since they risk so much for us. (Costs include, but are not limited to, Airfare, hotels, tickets to the shows, and filming equipment too. I know that once in a while, they like to buy new cameras so that the quality we get is better. That shit is expensive. Notice how amazing some of the more recent boots are? That’s because they have great equipment, and people who actually bought their videos from these masters helped them get that equipment.) Everything you pay these people gets put right back out FOR YOU. They don’t just profit and put it in their pocket, they use it to get more and more videos. Helping them helps you.

********* One MAJOR don’t that I’ve seen on the rise lately, and rest assured, continuation of this practice WILL make masters just decide to stop releasing videos, is this growing trend of “well the video is $20, so if we get 10-20 of us together we’ll only have to pay $1-2!!” STOP IT. STOP IT. STOP IT. Literally this is the worst, it is just as bad as releasing the video before the NFT date (more info on that below), its disrespectful and just rude. You bought ONE copy. If you have 10-20 pitch in, only ONE of you gets the video until the NFT date which hey, if that’s how you want to do it, that’s no skin off my nose, but that’s not what happens. You buy ONE copy between 20 of you, and then 20 copies exist where only one should. If you don’t have the $20 yourself, THEN WAIT. One of the perks of helping the master out is that you get the video 3-4 months before anyone else. Pay your fair share and give them a hand. It’s an insult to the risks they take when you’re a cheap ass like that. Do you go to Starbucks a few times a week? Skip a visit each week and put that money in a jar, or ask anyone if there’s odd jobs they need help with for $5. Save it up, then when a video is released that you are DYING to have, you’ll have the money to pay for it. If it means as much to you as some of you say, you can find a way to do it, $20 really isn’t that much, YOU CAN DO IT! And if you truly can’t, I promise the wait time between then and the NFT date isn’t so bad, especially when you factor in the fact that you’ll be waiting one of those months anyway, even if you buy, like I mentioned above.

Getting the Video

So, You’ve Received Your Video, now what? Well first off, ENJOY IT! Watch it, laugh, cry, flail, watch it again, die, etc! I mean that’s what they’re here for! But after that, there are still some rules that need to be followed.

* Screen Caps and gifs, see the above point about the masters’ screen caps. It’s just not a good idea, and you really should stop. I know you want to gif and show off and have your favorite moments on a loop, but remember, these are still super new, it’s dangerous to bring this kind of attention to them. (Say it with me kids: PROTECT THE MASTER AT ALL COSTS!) The newer a bootleg is, the more dangerous it is. Old bootlegs, even ones that are just a couple years old don’t draw as much attention, and are a lot harder to track down the origins of them, so gifs don’t hurt anything, but one where maybe only a handful of people own it? Well that’s not hard at all. A good rule of thumb is if the NFT Date has not passed, keep the video, in it’s entirety to yourself. Make gifs to your heart’s content, but save them for the day that date passes.

* One thing master’s make very clear is never to upload their videos, but it keeps happening, and it’s another issue causing trouble. (Once again for the people in the back: PROTECT THE MASTERS AT ALL COSTS) Youtube is the least stealthy site there is, EVERYONE is on youtube. My mom who can’t ever remember the web address for it is on youtube, and I don’t care what “clever” name you think you gave it, it’s not hidden. I accidentally found a TROVE of NFT videos uploaded to youtube within about 5 minutes of being on the site. I wasn’t even trying and they popped up in the sidebar of a video I was watching. They get found. There is a reason the master’s request this so STOP uploading them! If you want to share the video when the date passes, upload it to a site like mega or mediafire, make them download it, but stop making them publicly streamable. (Do not even get me started on the existence of stage dork, like seriously guys? That site is just irresponsible. Remember, ILLEGAL activity here.)

* Also, come on, use your heads, never post your upload link publicly. I cannot stress enough that this shit needs to be kept on the down low. (Audios are illegal too, yes, but they honestly aren’t as big a deal as the videos.)

* NFT (Not for Trade) Until Dates - These are the BIGGEST thing you need to adhere to. Making the video NFT Until a certain date give the master not only the ability to make a little money from the people who have to have it RIGHT NOW and can’t wait, to cover their enormous costs, but it also protects them (Ok, you know the motto by now.) It keeps the video private until usually around 6-9 months after it was initially filmed and also gives it some distance from them as the filmer. When it starts circulating widely at that point it’s old enough that it doesn’t feel like such an immediate threat. Now, while trade may be in the name, it goes beyond and implies (and masters also state) no gifting til that day either. If a master sells 20 copies of a video, only 20 should exist until that date.

* Twitter and instagram - Guys, NEVER. EVER. EVER. Tweet or tag or whatever a bootleg or a screen cap of a bootleg or a gif or video clip to an actor. Just don’t. MOST get pissed, most hate them. It’s just safer for EVERYONE that you don’t. (Never forget the time someone even just accidentally tweeted a clip to someone (I can’t remember who), but they didn’t know it was a bootleg and the person was cleary mad. So like don’t do it on purpose. Some won’t mind, but it’s not worth the risk, It’s a slippery slope, so just assume that if you do this, the wrath of Patti LuPone will come down on you like the fire of a thousand suns. It’s not safe for you.

Other Stuff

* If you decided to wait for the NFT Date to pass, have some patience. The amount of posts I saw downright DEMANDING, the Bandstand video the SECOND the NFT date passed was disgusting, especially since all the people making said posts were outright expecting people to just give them the video. If Someone has intentions to gift a newly available bootleg, they will. But being rude about it won’t get you anywhere, and it’ll just piss people off. Also understand that newly available videos, for most people, are not things they gift, because remember, they paid actual money for it, so they’d like to get a little return on their investment in the form of other shows. (This is how, for the record, I grew my collection to the size it is. A friend started me off with a generous amount of gifts and I thank god for her every day because I was new and desperate and I saw the promised land on her trading site. After that I started buying the new videos and when the dates passed, I had things people wanted, so I was able to trade them for the videos I wanted. Also for the new videos I decided I didn’t want to spend money on.) So what I’m saying is, be on the look out for someone hinting that they have it for gift but you can’t always expect that.

* I get just waiting for a gift of a video if you only want a couple show bootlegs, but for some of you, who say bootlegs are your life and all you have, but who are still expecting everything to be gifted to them, you should really look into, and consider trading. Your life will be a whole lot easier, and honestly its not that hard. Look for people who give gifts, email people with large sites politely with a few wants and ask if they mind helping a new guy out (hint: The older the requests, the more likely they will be to gift it, things that are 5 years or so old, I’m pretty much guaranteed to pass it along.) Things you get might be common, but not everyone has them. THere’s a lot of common videos I don’t have, and when someone is new, I will try my best to pick something I don’t have out from their list. I was new at a time too, people showed me kindness, so I pass it along. It took me no time, and just a little effort to grow my list to the behemoth I have now and I’m a happy girl. Also, trade people for things you might not want, necessarily, because someone else who has something you want might just want that video you weren’t interested in. It works, trust me!

* Video bootlegs are not super common, most shows will only get one, MAYBE two. Anything beyond that is lucky. (Wicked is the anomaly, and to a slightly lesson degree, Legally Blonde) If a new video comes out you’ll know, but your wasting your time if you go around saying things like “Someone film _____ tonight Becasue ________” Filmers don’t take requests, deciding to go and film takes planning. They’ll film what shows they want when they want, and there’s only about 5 of them so don’t expect that it’ll happen on a whim, and really the odds that some random person will A) just decide to film the show and b) that they’ll do it well and not get caught if they do, are slim to none.

And ok, it’s nearly 830 am and I’ve yet to sleep, so I think that’s everything and remember kids be kind to one another.

Also if anyone has anything that they feel needs to be added, or that I did not touch on, message me or comment on the post and I’ll edit!

#broadway bootlegs #bootleg videos #bootlegs #musical bootlegs #broadway trading #I said I'd write it and I did so here you go

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