#oh shoot its friday not saturday

[momotorin]

make up — sana one shot

heyo! i'm back!!

sana x fem reader, fluff and smut, non idol! sana

with years of being married with your gorgeous wife, this is the first time you've seen her in such a light so alluring; bringing you in its vast warmth that it crawls to your skin as you feel, phantom in thought, her fingertips brushing on your cheek.

you had a long night— coming home from work, running into some problem with your car, the mechanic losing a part for the chassis; then the next thing you know? it's 3am, the lights are off and your wife is sound asleep as you made your way to bed. you feel guilty leaving her in such an uneasy state of worry on where you are, where you could've been, who you were with, even though she repeated many times on the phone that she understands that you just became very unlucky all of a sudden.you crawled your way to the bed, kicking off your leather red oxfords, still on your office clothes, and you pressed a kiss on your wife's crown.

she hummed as you pulled her close, shifted so she could see your face. she felt so guilty for letting you have this day on your own. and it's morning.

the daylight seeps into your closed eyelids in flesh red, and you open your eyes to see that you left yourself in such an uptight pajama, with your white dress shirt literally tucked out of your black slacks from all the moving. you noticed that your tie was gone, and sana is nowhere to be found.

so, you stood up, carried yourself to the bathroom sink and put a splash of water on your face to make yourself feel a little alive. the cold, crisp, clean water knocked your nerves to consciousness.

then, you went and opened your phone to see that it was a saturday. last night was a friday night, which you remember as you should've had dinner at wolfgang's with sana. well, fuck. you also see that it's already 11am, a little way past the half of it, so technically, it's almost noon.

"honey," you called out as you made way off your shared room. you found her, hogged up in a corner of your sofa, watching some variety show. "there you are."

"hey," she says as you filled the empty spot beside her. she removes the suede pillow in between you two, and she hogged up herself to you instead, slinking her arms around your shoulders as she lays her head on your shoulder. "i missed you. tough night, my love?"

"oh, you wouldn't hear the end of it if you listen." you chuckle. even just remembering the ridiculous circumstances of you being stuck in the osaka traffic made your head hurt.

she whispers, "we have the whole day to us."

"well, if you insist," you sigh, eyes closed as you removed her arms on your shoulders and put it on level as yours to make her much comfortable. you opened your eyes, starting to gather thoughts on how'd you tell her about your night. "but, you first. what did you do when i was away?"

she looked at you, obviously stunned that you found your way, yet again, of not answering her question first. "okay," she sighs. "if you wanna play that way."

"please?" you plead with your lower lip being out, tugging at her hand ever so lightly. she deeply sighs at defeat, "so, while you were away, i just answered your calls. i knew it was urgent, and found out that it's really one of those nights. of course, i missed you still, and i'm sad that we missed our date."

"i'm so s-"

"don't be," she chuckled. "you did your best to assure me where you are, and i'm really glad that you're the one who always calls to update me. i love that. i love you."

you place a peck on her lips, "i love you more."

"don't even get me started on that," she said. "okay, now, you shoot. what happened last night?"

"alright," you sighed, crossing your legs as you further melted to the sofa and to sana's touch. "you know how newspapers get published early morning?"

"yeah, you literally took me there to the printing," she said, pulling you closer to her and now you're fully leaning onto her. "but okay, go."

"there was this priority article we needed to make, it was about the ministry of finance, and i absolutely hate it when i'm the one assigned to it because they know that i suck at it," you chuckled, and sana just looks at you with concern as she passes her hands through your scalp.

"but i finished it, 10pm, before the printing of today's newspaper. so, i called you then, saying sorry that i missed our date and promised you that i'll be home before you sleep so we could sleep together. but that didn't happen because," you chuckled sarcastically, putting a hand on your forehead as your eyebrows come to a crease.

"it was fucking traffic. everywhere. i don't know why, i was just stuck in there on the way home and when i finally sped up when the road cleared, one of the oil pipes were slashed by a sharp object on the road. and the next mechanic stop was a kilometre away, so my oil was leaking everywhere when i got there."

you noticed that her hand made its way to your waist, then you interlocked it with yours and you brushed your thumb along her every knuckle. "and i called you again, 12am, telling you that. i was so tired, i slept at the benches when waiting for the car to be fixed. so i drove home, it was already 2:30am, and i didn't even have a soul. i'm just glad that i went home, you were already sleeping, and i almost cried because i was so guilty of missing a friday night with you."

"i told you, don't be," she assures. "that's so bad. i imagined it happening to me, and i realized that you'd understand what i've gone through too, so, it's not an afterthought that i'd be the same. but, i really did miss you, though."

you sigh, flipping on your stomach and now you're facing sana, your head now on her chest as you wrap your arms around her waist. "sorry, love," you said, closing your eyes and basking yourself in the warmth of sana. "i missed you a lot too," you looked up to her and meet her honey brown eyes. "how do i make it up to you?"

you trail your sight down to the crevices of her collarbones, realizing that she has your tie on. loose, pulled, and she's in her silk red pajama top.

you never thought that you'd be more stunned than you already are, but you shift, now sitting upright to observe the glory that's contained in the light of your wife.

"god," you say. "you know you're going to be the death of me one day, don't you?"

she hums, smiling, as she holds your hand to guide you into holding your black tie on her neck. "pull," she says, voice deep, commanding.

you do exactly how she wants, and you heard her slip a sweet moan. "maybe," she says, pushing you down the couch and now she has both of her thighs straddling yours. "do me?"

jesus fucking christ.

you pull her by the tie, sealing her lips with yours in fervor as you melt into the leather of the sofa. you trail your kisses to her neck, as her hands made her way to your shoulders and your scalp, brushing ever so lightly that it makes you want to have more.

she yields with a mantra of your name, sweet and full of breath, "baby," she moaned out, pulling you off from your trance. "do you really wanna do it? i mean you haven't had breakfast and i'm sure yo-"

you pulled her by the tie, again, kissing her, "shut up," you said, now lifting her up from the sofa and you made your way to your room. "you know you're my favorite meal, don't you?"

she giggles as you carefully put her down the bed, still looking at you with eyes hooded, filled with want. you observe her as you hovered above her, she was already rubbing her legs, relieving some tension in between her thighs.

her hands fiddled with your collar, and slowly removed each button until you could put your dress shirt out and on the floor. "you really want me, huh," you said, kissing her once again, a little longer as you also removed her silk top.

lace on her milky white skin makes you want to mark it up with purple from your lips, and as you do, her mantras of your name drip onto yours like honey.

you slithered your hands to the clasp of her bra, her chest being revealed to you on it's very bare form. you pull away, repositioning yourself below her, and now she's straddling you; half naked, on top of you with want. "you look beautiful, baby."

she moans once again, now kissing you, going to trail to your neck. she nips, she bites, and you just wanted her to do that forever. you want her to mark you up as she owns you. you let out a breath, "sana, honey," you said, and she stops to look at you. "i wanna do you."

"well," she said, flipping you two over again, now shes under you. "if you wish so."

you smiled, now moaning as you trailed kisses to her taut tummy, then to the waistband of her shorts. "may i?" you asked, hands on her hips, tickling her a little as she nodded.

you unwrapped the cloth carefully, sliding it off her legs, and you see black lace again, now between her thighs, covering the surface where she wants you most. she was leaking through it, "baby, you're so wet." she moans as you removed her panties, the string of her arousal coming out of it too as she really was leaking with need.

you teased, trailing sweet kisses to her thighs and she moans, later whimpers to a plead that wants you more. "love, please."

you look up at her, hands on your hair already as she pushed her hips to your face. without another word, you dove into her folds, the sweet and tangy taste you've known hits your mouth as she moans your name loud that you're afraid the walls can't keep it.

you continued on, licking lightly on her clit as she positioned her legs on both sides of your head, and you caress her thighs with your hands.

you alternate between licking her and putting your tongue in her hole to gather her sweetness.

you lightly opened her thighs, now removing yourself from her cunt, taking in the view of her blissed out state. "god, you're so beautiful like this," you teased, your index finger circling the wet hole to tease. she whines, holding your wrist. "do you want me go put it in?"

she hums, and you insert your digits in her velvety walls, feeling her in the most raw way you two could imagine.

she jolts up, pleasure getting into her as you curl your finger as you thrusted. she opened her legs wider, allowing access for a deeper spot she never knew until now. you pulled your finger out, gathered a couple of liquid to your hands as you circled her clit, and you insert two fingers in her, motion in and out, curling lightly upwards to hit her spot.

she moans, loud, wonton, as she breaths, "don't stop."

then you lean down, licking her engorged clit, swollen as your tongue makes contact. her hand immediately flew to your head as you made figure eights on it, and she's now grinding her hips on your face.

you feel her walls close up on you, wetness dripping more as you thrust in and out. "please," she moaned out. "i'm going to cum."

you just hummed and fastened your pace on her; your fingers moving in and out of her hole, and your tongue making kitten licks on her clit.

"fuck!" she screams out, gush coming out of her as you continued to lick on her clit. she gyrates her hips forward, letting you lap over the remaining cum off her cunt. "fuck," she breathed out, now caressing your cheeks as you made your way up to kiss her lips once more.

she loves it when she tastes her arousal on your mouth, something with a mix of sin and sincerity. "i love you."

you hummed, pulling her body to yours; putting your head on her still bare chest. "i love you too."

she puts away strands of your hair away from your face, kissing your forehead. "should i return the favor, love?"

"no, sana, i'm fine," you chuckled, slithering your arms around her waist, keeping her clasped around you. you two heard a shocking rumble from your stomach. "and i'm hungry."

"i told you i won't make you full!"

"no, no," you put a chaste kiss on her lips. "you're plenty already. i'm very full and i love it so much."

"don't be such a dick," she sits up, pulling you up with her hands as she stood up. "let's go shower so that we could actually make up for the date part," you said, trailing behind her as she went inside the shower. "and no funny business, please."

turns out that she broke her own rule as she ate you out before going out of the shower.

"so, should we order pizza instead?" she asks, phone already in her hand with the food delivery app open.

you chuckled as you dried your hair, "anything's fine."

"so, hawaiian?"

"no," you said, blankly staring at her. "absolutely not."

"i thought anything?"

"anything but hawaiian."

"okay," she takes a note of it. "so, broccoli then?"

"what?" you said. "really? on pizza? too?"

"what, like it's a bad idea that we'd tr-"

"sana, love," you said, now sitting with her as you're already pampered up and in your lounge clothes. "let's not fight over this. we know it's pepperoni that we want."

she hums, agreeing and feeling defeated as she was actually trying to prank you. "mozzarella sticks; 6 piece chicken, buffalo wings flavored; and iced tea."

you placed a kiss on her lips again, "yup, great," you giggled as sana puts you in a big hug as you melt into your sheets. you heard your stomach grumble once again. "oh, it's roaring."

sana lets you lay on her chest as you two laughed, "but i make you full, right?" she asked, rhetorically. "eat me out till the food comes?"

"sana!"

[cheriladycl01]

Well, that's just the way the Cookie Crumbles ... - Fernando Alonso x Younger Actress! Reader

Plot: You are an actress/ stunt actress and get invited onto TOP Gear with Fernando Alonso to see who has the quickest time driving around Silverstone in your choice of car.

"So Fernando, you've had some interesting dating scandals over the years. Taylor Swift being one of them, however due to your most recent appearance on Top Gear, and having seen her around the paddock a few times people are wondering about your closeness to a certain Actress" the interviewing around the paddock asks as he comes up to Alonso, seeing he is alone and free to talk about the upcoming race and anything else.

"Well..." he starts before thinking back to the first time he met you.

"So today here we have Professional Driver in Formula One for Aston Martin Cognizant Racing Fernando Alonso" Paddy introduces as Fernando comes up and onto the stage shaking everyone's hands before taking a seat on the sofa in the Top Gear studio.

"That's not all that we have though tonight is it!" Chris says making Fernando frown, he assumed he was the only celebrity on tonight.

"No we also have Oscar Award Winning Actress and Stunt Actress, Y/N Y/L/N" Freddie says as you walk out onto the stage your high heels clopping against the flooring. You go and shake all of their hands, kissing Chris on either side of his cheeks having met him before.

"Hello" you smile waving at the crowd, screams coming from everywhere. You take everything in before taking at seat next to Fernando.

"So, we had both of you compete at a track that one of you knows extremely well" Chris starts and looks over at Fernando who nods, remembering a week ago him driving round the Silverstone track.

"Yes, i have raced that track many a time!" he admits.

"You've even won two Grand Prix there in 2006 and 2011. Which means gosh how old would have you been Y/N?" Paddy asks looking over to the younger actress.

"Oh, mmmm 2006 i would have been 13 years old, and 2011 i would have been 18" you work out mentally in your head.

"And its funny because we actually have a picture of you and Fernando Alonso back in 2011. You were just starting up your acting career! Look folks here it is" Freddie smiles showing the picture of you as a young adult stood with 30 year old Alonso.

"Woah i don't even remember that being you. I didn't even know who you were back then" Fernando says squinting at the picture in shock, trying to see if it really was you.

"I was awe struck with everything that was going on honestly i probably just looked like a fan. I can understand the confusion" you laugh knowing now that Fernando was actually a bigger fan of yours.

"Well, lets explain what we actually had these two do at Silverstone" Paddy answers.

"Yes, its about time. Lets show the video!" Freddie exclaims.

"Hello Top Gear Fans, today we are here at Silverstone shooting over one weekend, two different celebrities up against a totally new challenge" Chris introduces.

"I'm very excited for this challenge are you?" Freddie asks.

"Yeah, it's like the challenges we are normally privy too just without the pain being on us" Chris frowns, crossing his arms grumpily.

"So, todays challenge we have, Fernando Alonso and Y/N Y/L/N. They were asked to each choose a sports car in their budget to drive around Silverstone" Paddy introduces the challenge.

"Fernando is on Friday. Y/n on Saturday and today in the studio on Sunday its like our very own Top Gear Grand Prix" he admits showing the awfully drawn out plans for shooting.

"So, Fernando's been sent here with Aston Martin so we automatically knew he'll be taking the Aston Martin Valkyrie" Freddie says looking down at the cards in his hands.

"Yes it would be a little awkward if he chose another brand!" Chris laughs.

"The most surprising thing is Y/N has chosen the McLaren Speedtail! Is there a partnership we don't know about brewing?" Paddy asks.

And the video went on, little breaks where they came back to the show seeing Y/N and Fernando laughing along with each other and the presenters.

Eventually it showed Fernando go round, in dry conditions and very quickly. He was a seasoned expert at the track and new the racing line. However driving in an actual car was very different than his open wheeler.

Then it came back, he was asked about his run and how he felt that it had gone before switching onto you and the Saturday when you drove.

You had your helmet on, and you drove quickly. As a stunt actress you'd done a lot of risky driving in your time where you were confident in your skills to go quick and be able to drift without loosing any time or over-skidding to make the car flip and crash.

"So, are you both ready to find out who won?"

"Yes" you both had said in unison.

"Well, Fernando lets starts with you, you timed in at 1.32.823" Paddy says slowly reading off the card.

"And Y/N you timed in at a staggering 1.30.923" Freddie announces calling out the numbers really slowly. You looked at Fernando in shock, he also looked particularly shocked but seeing the way you didn't hesitate at any of the corners and seeing your aggressive way of driving from the videos it wasn't that much of a shock when he thought about it.

"How?" he asked

"Thats just the way the cookie crumbles baby" you smile at him.

His mind came back to the interviewer a small smile gracing on his face.

"Ahahah is he talking about his cool new girlfriend!" Lando squeals running back the camera seeing the look on his competitions face.

"Look at him, he's a grumpy grandad!" Albon follows with a quiet laugh that has George and Charles joining in with the mayhem.

"Yes, Y/N is my new girlfriend. We bonded after the filming for Top Gear and she took me away by her driving skills if im being honest" he admits, knowing he was still a little salty at how you'd beaten him and how you kept on insisting it was an age thing, you were younger and more spritely so of course you won.

He did find it funny and rather endearing the way you'd lean into him as you joked about how old he actually was, he loved you despite the teasing.

"But she isn't in Aston Martin, she's always seen in McLaren!" the interviewer pushes.

"Ah, well that is for her to show, i am not aloud to say anything. However, she will sneak over to Aston Martin to come and see me. I guess that's as she would say, the er cookie crumbles?"

A/N: sorry guys just two smaller individual imagines today where I've been busy with lots of uni stuff.

However, theres so much in the up and coming i think you'll all enjoy! We have a small Lance Stroll imagine that should be out tonight as well! Then we have a cute Pierre Gasly and Reader!

And then of course the continuation of my series such as Charles, Carlos, George and Oscar with the edition of a new Lando Series coming soon!

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee

[plusultraetc]

final(s) straw

Ironically, none of Nemuri's friends sleep like normal people.

At 12:47 am, Nemuri lets her head fall to the table.

“I hate finals week.”

Across from her, Yamada makes a sympathetic noise. “Why don’t they tell you when you assign a paper that you’re going to have to grade the papers after?”

“Exactly.” She points in his general direction without lifting her head. “I’m so glad someone finally knows my pain.”

It’s not even Friday, is the thing. If it was Friday-technically-Saturday, Nemuri could hike up her big girl pants and get this done, but it’s Thursday-technically-Friday and she has to proctor two exams tomorrow and so all she has to hike up are her most luxurious pink pajama bottoms and even they aren’t really making her feel any better.

She has patrol on Friday evenings. She is going to cry. 

“I’m going to sleep all weekend,” she says, half-affirmation, half-promise.

Yamada makes another note in the margin of the paper he’s grading. It joins a sea of its crimson brethren. “I’m not.”

“Oh, shit, nooo.” She reaches across the table and makes grabby hands until he surrenders one of his own. “Quit your job.”

“Which one?”

“Not this one. You can’t leave me here.”

“You brought me here.”

Nemuri hums with her cheek pressed to the top of tonight’s lowest-scoring final. “Like a mother bringing a child into this world of suffering.”

“Kayama, what?”

She pats his hand delicately and then digs her nails in with one final squeeze. Yamada yelps and jolts away. The dishes rattle warningly in her kitchen cabinets.

“I hope that woke you up, because it did jack shit for me,” she grumbles, pushing herself upright. Yamada shoots her a petulant look, shaking his abused hand loosely.

“If you’re really that tired, take a nap. I’ll wake you in a little bit.”

“Yamada, sweetie, if I take a nap right now there won’t be a force on earth that could wake me.”

“You could sleep on the floor.”

Nemuri blinks at him as he returns his attention to his paper. “Like, on a futon?”

“No. Like on the floor. That way, you can’t get too comfortable, and it’ll be easier to wake up.”

“What?”

He glances up at her. “What do you mean, ‘what?’ I did that all the time in high school.”

He did… what? Floor naps? He did floor naps in high school? Yamada was a year behind her at UA, but she has the vague recollection that he always had really good grades. Like, really good. Like pull an all-nighter, study until your eyes are burning, and then nap on the floor instead of going to bed so you can keep studying good.

“Yamada, what?”

“Why do you keep saying that!”

Nemuri flails. “Floor naps!?”

“They’re effective!”

“They’re ridiculous! That’s something a ridiculous person does!” She would know, and so would he, because their mutual ridiculous person does pretty much exactly that thing. Nemuri reaches across the table and Yamada, beautiful fool that he is, lets her grab his hand again. “If I had known you were taking floor naps in high school, I would have intervened much sooner. I would have made it my personal mission to tank your GPA in the name of sleep.” A horrible thought occurs to her. “Wait, do you still do that now? Do you just curl up on the floor at the station next to your recording equipment and sleep for half an hour?”

Yamada rolls his eyes. “Who do I look like, Aizawa? Of course not!” He pauses. “And half an hour is too long. No matter how uncomfortable you are, you will fall totally asleep after half an hour. Fifteen to twenty minutes is ideal.”

“Oh my god.”

“And you don’t take floor naps in public. You take them in the privacy of your own home where you can lose control of your life but no one is around to see it.”

“Oh my god. I’m getting you professional help.”

“For what? I don’t even do that anymore. I don’t have time to nap.” He waves a marked-up essay at her. “I have three jobs.”

[girlactionfigure]

🇮🇱AFTER Shabbat - Saturday night - events from Israel  

ISRAEL REALTIME - Connecting to Israel in Realtime

⚠️Kiryat Shmona and the Upper Galilee: residents are asked to be near protected areas, including in non-evacuated towns. (19:32)

❗️ISIS SUPPORTER - PAKISTANI CANADIAN - PLANNED MASS ATTACK ON CHABAD 770.. arrested when he tried to cross the border into the United States - where he planned to carry out a shooting attack on Chabad HQ and synagogue 770 in Crown Heights, Brooklyn, NY.  He was arrested after he shared with undercover agents his intentions: "to take advantage of Israeli gatherings on Oct. 7 memorials for the Hamas massacre, and to carry out the largest attack against Jews outside of Israel ever - and the largest in the US since Sept. 11”.

Planned mass shooting with automatic weapons in New York because "there is the largest population of Jews in America."

Arrested.

▪️ON THE AMERICAN-TURKISH ACTIVIST SHOT NEAR SHECHEM.. The White House: We contacted Israel demanding information and asked for an investigation into the shooting of the American citizen near Shechem.  

.. IDF spokesperson: During the security forces' activity near Beta today (Friday), the force responded by firing at a central instigator who threw stones at the forces, and posed a threat to our forces.

.. The Turkish-American anarchist who was killed today by IDF gunfire in Kfar Beta in Samaria is an activist of ISM - the "International Solidarity Organization" - a pro-Hamas and Hezbollah "resistance" organization that has been working against Israel for years through provocations, boycotts, defamations and confrontations.  Its operatives even helped transport a terrorist to an attack in Tel Aviv in the past. The founder of the organization, Paul Larudi, even praised the massacre committed by Hamas in Israel.

▪️US AGREES TO WITHDRAW FROM IRAQ.. in Sept. 2025.

▪️ISRAEL MAINSTREAM MEDIA CREATES POLLS.. to prove Israelis support a deal - - by phrasing questions in such a way as to remove negatives.  For example: “do you support a complete withdrawal from Gaza in a deal to free the hostages?”, 52% say yes.  I say yes!  (( Oh did you forget to mention being bombarded with rockets again within a year and increased terror attacks and Israeli deaths?  Yes, yes you did. ))  (i24)

.. “Majority does not accept the PM’s position and thinks a deal is more important than remaining in control of the border - 60%”. (Mako).  (( Does the poll mention releasing 5,000 mass murderers, many who will murder again?  No, no it does not. ))

▪️US SAYS IRAN TRANSFERRED HUNDREDS OF SHORT RANGE MISSILES TO RUSSIA.. Iran says “no we didn’t.” (WSJ)

▪️TERROR ATTEMPT - RAMMING ATTACK - ELI.. gas station.  They rammed a police car!  Terrorist captured, no casualties.

▪️TURKISH PRESIDENT ERDOGAN CALLS.. on the Muslim world to unite against Israel: it will want to conquer Turkey as well.

🔸DEAL NEWS.. New York Times: Hamas added additional demands regarding the release of Palestinian prisoners as part of the first phase of the deal. (( The more Israeli’s protest demanding a deal, the more Hamas demands. ))

.. The head of the CIA: "We hope that a hostage deal will be signed in the coming days - it's a matter of political will"

.. Assessment in Israel: There is no chance of a deal.

⭕ 16 rounds of ROCKETS and mostly SUICIDE DRONE attacks over Shabbat at northern Israeli towns and cities, including Rosh HaNikra and Safed.

.. 2 drones hit Ayelet HaShachar.  No casualties.

♦️The IDF eliminated senior Hezbollah leaders in Lebanon and Deir al-Balah.

[paramorearchived]

January 23, 2010

Transcript:

THE MORE THE MERRIER [WITH EDIT]

We sent this to the fanclub first and now everyone gets a chance:

Hey guys!

We need your help. Later this month, we'll be shooting the video for "The Only Exception". There is a shot that may or may not require a bazillion Valentine’s Day cards...instead of picking up a bunch of dumb ones, which would probably be easier, we want personalized ones. Made by YOU! We're not asking for anything crazy, just get some red or pink paper and write something on it. It could be the name of some kid you’re crushing on and don't have the balls to tell yet...or it could be a letter to us saying what's up... Or maybe you just like writing? If you're up for it, get to it now! We will be putting EVERY LETTER we get from you guys in this video. There are no losers, only winners. Woohooo!

Oh and just a side note: try to keep the size of the cards to a minimum!

Thanks guys :) Paramore

To submit YOUR Valentine's Day card to be included in the video, please mail your card to the following address:

Paramore Fan Club 853 Broadway Floor 3 New York, NY 10003

We MUST have your card by next Wednesday, January 27th, to be included in the shoot. As mailing times vary per region, we strongly recommend you mail your card on Saturday or Monday to ensure its arrival in NYC by Wednesday. [EDIT FROM THE BAND:] If you think you could get your cards in by Thursday.. or even early Friday.. still give it a shot! Cause we will try and have them overnighted to the shoot and use them. THANK YOU!

[EDIT!!!!] I forgot to post the little form that you gotta sign... so that legally we can put your cards in our video. Here's the link for the form: http://docs.google.com/View?id=dd6hfkfv_1gmwkqsfb

[poupeesdecirque]

Travel Blog, Connichi 2023!

Part 1 - Thursday & Friday

As the Connichi moved from Kassel to Wiesbaden it was quite a trip for me, double the travel distance, a city I don't know and lots of stuff to happen.

I decided to write about my trip there for myself to cover some events, give some insights and share the memories. Includes phone snapshots, some sketches for situations I was in aaaand maybe some previews for photoshootings ;>

Thursday: arrival, food, traveling

Friday: First con day, cospay, food, mental health stuff

Thursday, 31. August 2023

As said I had to travel to Wiesbaden, I went by car. The road on its own was mainly highway but before I got to the highway I got stuck in traffic for almost 1 hour. After 5 hours of traveling alone on bad mental health I arrived in Wiesbaden before my friends did and waited for them

Apparently I looked rather pitiful and was approached by some weirdo who tried to give me candy and cigarettes and was super offended by me telling them off. I'm not used to people trying to prey on me but urgh, that was creepy af.

After my friends arrived I ordered my first Starbucks (it was an almond chai latte) as I didn't have anything to eat aside my breakfast that day.

We walked around in the city a bit and ended up in the indian restaurant I had researched before and I had some really delicious paneer with Naan bread and a Mango Cheesecake.

But ... Diamy and I decided to go for "medium" spicy and I underestimated it... I .... cried :'D

We later on found a super cute bakery and @adragonstale and I were totally in awe about the pastries they had.

I'm glad my friends arrived the same day, they really saved my mood.

Friday, 1. September 2023 - First Convention day

As the first day starts later on I decided to get out into the city as past!Allen and put on the Nea wig later on.

We walked a bit through the city, did some window shopping and I was able to share my wisdom about food and nutrition, I am such a nerd about it. Also sightseeing and just being casual about everything.

After that we decided to get changed and get into our convention attire.

The con itself... dunno. I was missing a whole bunch of publishers as there was only two bigger ones and 1-2 smaller ones, the other big ones weren't there, the Matsuri was lovelessly showed behind a construction fence, the artist alley was bigger, yes, but badly ventilated on friday that even I - who is freezing all the time - felt like I would be melting on the spot. Merch room was not even tempting for me I rushed through it, the other rooms were.. well... indoor photo shoot corners, workshops and all that. The invited guests all no names to me, therefore I skipped on the program. You didn't even have any anime series or movies airing at the con (which was a usual thing before) you had to leave the con and pay extra if you wanted to see old anime movies. Well. It wasn't my cup of tea aside the fact I think the building has no personality, I don't like those soulless new constructed modern styled bricks of congress halls. Yes you had the option to book photo spots in two older buildings BUT the slots were taken super fast and it was one location on Saturday, the other on the Sunday and .. well.. in Kassel you had a ton of old buildings you could visit. Wiesbaden has some nice spots too but things like the park being full of duck poop, drug addicts and garbage to begin with didn't help much.

During the con I .. somehow spiraled into the the now called "Anxiety Chihuahua" state. I met some D.gray-man cosplayers and was actually recognized as Nea BUT got told there would be a group meeting the day after and that it was for an existing group (not noticing it was ... my ... group ... ) and my head was all like "oh god now WHAT IF" and that made me sweaty, anxious and my mood in the end was horrible. To explain that: in my cosplay past I was part of some groups but in the end was ignored or replaced by people who were thinner or prettier than me, even when we had special outfits and the other cosplayer didn't have those outfits or even when I went to a certain event for that exact group ... it's past wounds. As my mental health was already a bit cracked it was easy for me to snap and get down.

I was super awkward and ran around like crazy, almost yelled at that one group that they were super cool and that i adore their costumes and just loudly said that I am just a fool and will be gone now. On the next day they told me they saw me earlier but I was too fast to approach. Uhm, yeah. Hyper anxiety clown here. Of course I didn't take much photos with any Cosplayers as I was too nervous which didn't help as I wanted some memories of course.

In the end it got that bad that as we went out for food that day I just stood there "I don't want any, I hate everything"; but I had 30k steps done and just a few snacks therefore... I needed something. Too little food and water makes the brain sad too and I think that added to my anxiety getting worse.

In the end we stopped at a small thai restaurant and my friends had to order for me as I totally refused everything. I knew it was my health being bad and I told them "just order a thing, I will pay. Just no bread". And @adragonstale got me tofu curry with rice (instead of bread) it was warm comforting food. Thank you again. I felt really better after that.

Even that much better that we did some photos of me as Nea!

And we discovered Wiesbaden has a wild population of parrots, they nearly flew into my face while we took pics.

I went back to my car after that and arrived in time for the Matsuri fireworks.

I was super beat that day after two quite exhausting days and hoped the main day would be better as the two prior. It was about time to debut Allen, and to face my fear with the group meeting and my past cosplay trauma.

Lil concluding car selfie aka what if Nea would steal Allen's glasses.

[determinedwriter]

Whumptober 2023: Day 15: Suppressed Suffering

Whumptober 2023: Day 15: Suppressed Suffering

Ro

Dad’s been acting strange today. I know he’s an eccentric guy, but I mean even stranger than the usual Tony Stark antics. And that’s really saying something. He seems more frantic as he works in the lab.

He’s barely spoken a word to me today. He’s usually so quippy, so this too is anything but normal. I type in the lab code and enter. “Hey, Dad.”

He doesn’t turn to face me, continuing his work instead. I can’t tell what he’s working on though. He mumbles to himself. “Come on, where the hell is it? Come on…”

“Dad?” I ask.

He spins around. “Ro. Hi. What’re you doing in here?”

“I thought I’d check on you,” I reply.

Dad blinks. “Why aren’t you at school?”

I grin nervously. “It’s Saturday.”

He nods slowly. “Right. Right. Yeah.”

Biting my lip, I walk over to him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” He replies a little too quickly.

“Fine…” I echo. “You don’t have to tell me what’s got you all freaked out, but I know you’re lying.”

Dad pauses. “It’s really nothing.”

“Is it though?” I question, crossing my arms.

“It is, Ro. Just…just get out.” He snaps.

“If there’s anything you need, just let me know. I’m not busy.” I reply.

“I am.” He snaps again. 

“Got it,” I mutter in annoyance.

I’m about to leave when I see a new suit he’s in the middle of creating. “Whoa…that looks so cool.”

I walk slowly over to it to get a closer look, mouth agape. “It’s so-”

I’m interrupted as the suit sparks to life, raising its arm and charging the repulsor on its palm. I duck down as it shoots and Dad shouts. “Friday, shut it down!”

“It’s malfunctioning, sir!” Friday exclaims.

It shoots another beam before I can dodge it, blowing me back against the wall and singeing it. Good thing I can’t be burned. 

“Deploy!” Dad yells for his suit and it reaches him just in time as he shoots a beam back at the suit and destroys it after a good few hits, taking a tool and bashing it against the armor to finish it off.

“Good God…” He exhales. “Ro, are you okay?”

I nod. “I’m fine.”

“You’re sure? You-” His breathing picks up as he starts panicking. “You’re…”

“Dad, what’s wrong?” I ask.

He sinks to the floor, continuing to hyperventilate. “Oh God, come on Stark…Come on…”

I kneel down and sit beside him, hesitantly placing a hand on his shoulder. “Breathe. Hey, it’s okay. Breathe.”

Dad puts his hand atop mine. “Yeah, okay…”

His breathing slows as I stay right next to him. “Anxiety attack?”

He nods and I remain where I am to comfort him. “It’s okay. I love you. Just keep breathing.”

Slowly but surely, he’s able to speak again. “Sorry, kid. It’s just been, ah…one of those days.”

“It’s okay,” I tell him. “You can’t control it. You know I know.”

He chuckles lightly. “Sorry to pass it on. Genetics are a bitch.”

I grin softly. “You also passed on your insane IQ, so I can’t complain too much.”

Dad gives my hand a squeeze. “I am a genius. And you…you are your father’s daughter.”

I shrug. “I’ll never be as smart as you.”

He turns to look me in the eyes. “See, that’s one thing you didn’t inherit. My arrogance.”

“Poor me,” I reply sarcastically.

Dad stands up and helps me off of the floor, giving me an unexpected hug. “Thank you, Ro.”

“You got it, Dad,” I say. 

I’m so glad to be helpful to him. We’re so similar to each other so I’m able to use my insight sometimes. I recognized his anxiety attack and said the sort of thing he says to me when I’m in his shoes.

Comfort, love, and reassurance.

[dankusner]

4-20...

Observers see link in trio of 1990s tragedies

The anniversaries of three American tragedies occur this weekend.

Friday marked the 31st year since the end of the siege in Waco, Texas, and the 29th since the Oklahoma City bombing.

Saturday is the 25th anniversary of the Columbine High School shooting.

The events of those days, which collectively took 257 lives, have served as landmarks in American history demonstrating the capabilities of far-right terrorists and the unofficial beginning of the age of school shootings.

The siege at Waco was cited by the man primarily behind the Oklahoma City bombing, Timothy McVeigh, who believed that what happened to the Branch Davidians at Waco was 'dirty' and wanted to 'give them dirty back,' said investigative journalist Mike Boettcher.

Dave Cullen, author of 'Columbine,' wrote that Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold would likely have seen the coverage of Waco and Oklahoma City.

Cullen also noted that Harris described wanting to top McVeigh in his journal.

Here’s what you need to know about the Waco siege, the Oklahoma City bombing and the Columbine shooting.

Waco siege

Key dates : The raid began at 9:30 a.m. Feb. 28, 1993; the siege began the afternoon of Feb. 28 and ended April 19.

What happened : Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives raided the Mount Carmel compound of the Branch Davidian sect in Waco, Texas.

The initial raid, intended to execute a search warrant, left four ATF agents and five Branch Davidians dead.

The afternoon after the raid, the FBI led a 51-day siege of the compound.

The siege ended when the FBI conducted an assault on the compound, leading to a fire that killed 76 Davidians.

How it is tied to the other events :

The siege as well as the standoff in Ruby Ridge, Idaho, fed into antigovernment sentiment and was cited by Timothy McVeigh as his cause to commit the Oklahoma City bombing.

Oklahoma City bombing

Key date : April 19, 1995

What happened : McVeigh detonated a truck filled with nearly 5,000 pounds of explosives in front of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City.

The explosion killed 168 people. McVeigh was convicted on 11 counts of murder and put to death in 2001.

How it is tied to the other events : McVeigh, according to the FBI, visited Waco, according to Boettcher.

McVeigh chose the date for his attack to coincide with the anniversary of the siege’s end.

Columbine High School shooting

Key date : April 20, 1999

What happened :

Harris and Klebold killed 13 people and wounded 24 in a mass shooting at Columbine High School in Littleton, Colorado.

The two planted two bombs in the cafeteria of the school that did not detonate.

The shooters later killed themselves.

How it is tied to the other events : The shooting was originally planned for April 19 − the sixth anniversary of the Waco siege ending and the fourth of the Oklahoma City bombing − according to Cullen.

Acquiring the ammunition pushed the date back to the 20th

What Did Ann Know?

What did Ann Richards know about helicopters used during Waco siege?

Almost all of the defendants who were originally named in the civil lawsuit brought by family members and survivors of the Branch Davidian conflagration are, or were, federal employees.

Former Gov. Ann Richards was the only non-military state official named in the lawsuits.

That's because while she was governor, Richards approved the request that allowed federal agents to use three National Guard helicopters during its Feb. 28, 1993, assault on the Waco compound.

In July, Richards was dismissed as a defendant in the lawsuit.

But the use of the helicopters ­and whether federal agents fired guns from them ­ continues to be one of the most contentious and frightening aspects of the Waco controversy.

The use of the three military helicopters ­two OH-58 Kiowas and one UH-60 Blackhawk ­ was justified by the government's specious claim that there was a methamphetamine lab inside Mt. Carmel.

That allegation allowed the Bureau of Alcohol Tobacco and Firearms to ask Richards for permission to use the helicopters.

Perhaps without fully understanding what she was doing, she agreed to allow the use of the choppers, two of which were based here in Austin at Camp Mabry.

If federal agents did fire from the helicopters, it would likely be a violation of the Posse Comitatus Act.

Passed by Congress in 1878, the law prohibits the military from acting as a police force against civilians, as it had during its occupation of the South after the Civil War.

The measure authorizes fines and prison terms for anyone who "willfully uses any part of the Army or the Air Force as a posse comitatus to make arrests or otherwise to execute the laws."

The law also prohibits the direct participation by "any member of the Army, Navy, Air Force, or Marine Corps in a search, seizure, arrest, or other similar activity."

But the War on Drugs changed that.

In 1989, drugs were declared a national security threat and Congress passed legislation that allows the military to train civilian drug police.

The change blurred the line between acceptable and unacceptable military activities with regard to the police.

No one has ever been prosecuted for violating the law.

There is contradictory information as to whether federal agents fired from the helicopters during the raid.

Two defense lawyers who represented the Davidians and went inside the Mt. Carmel compound during the 51-day standoff ­Jack Zimmerman and Dick DeGuerin ­ both said they saw bullet holes in the ceiling of the structure.

Zimmerman described them as "exit holes" and said that there were only two possible explanations.

"You can have a guy standing on the roof shooting in, and it would look just like that, or you can have someone shooting from a helicopter."

Several Davidians have said the helicopters fired at them.

Catherine Matteson, a Davidian who left the compound during the siege, was at Mt. Carmel on Feb. 28.

In her memoir, quoted in Dick J. Reavis' book Ashes of Waco, she recalls, "As I went to the window to my amazement, there were three helicopters in formation and facing David's room and firing as they came."

David Thibodeau was also at the compound during the assault.

He, too, claims the helicopters fired on the compound.

He says that bullet holes in the compound's water towers could only have come from a helicopter.

Three Davidians who were killed that day, Peter Gent, Peter Hipsman, and Winston Blake, may have been killed by gunfire coming from the helicopters.

Fueling suspicion is a telephone conversation between Koresh and ATF agent Jim Cavanaugh that occurred shortly after the raid.

Cavanaugh started the conversation by saying, "We need to set the record straight and that is that there was no guns on those helicopters."

That statement enraged Koresh, who told Cavanaugh, "You're a damn liar."

After a few more testy exchanges with Koresh, Cavanaugh changed his story.

"What I'm saying is that those helicopters did not have mounted guns. Okay? I'm not disputing the fact that there might have been fire from the helicopters," Cavanaugh said.

The 1996 U.S. House report on the Davidian incident denies that any gunfire came from the helicopters.

"The helicopters were unarmed," it says, and "no ATF agents fired from the helicopters."

The report says the Texas Rangers came to the same conclusion.

However, the report adds that it doesn't appear that "senior ATF or Treasury officials gave any consideration to the negative image of military helicopters being used as part of a raid on American civilians."

If federal agents did indeed fire from the helicopters, it changes the scope of the initial raid.

Gunfire from the helicopters would mean the incident wasn't a police raid, it was a military assault with the attack coming from both land and air on a group of civilians who had never been convicted of any crime.

It would be an unprecedented use of military force on American civilians.

However, proving that agents fired from the helicopters will be difficult, if not impossible.

And while the question of the gunfire may be addressed in the civil lawsuit against the FBI that goes to trial next May, there are other questions.

Why did Richards approve the request?

Was it a mistake? Did federal authorities lie to her about the drug issue in order to get the military helicopters that they wanted?

If they did lie, will they be punished?

Again, as with everything else regarding Waco, the questions outnumber the answers.

WACO ^^

[fahrni]

Saturday Morning Coffee

Good morning from Charlottesville, Virginia! ☕️

Up early this morning to drive our youngest daughter to the airport for a trip to California. I’m a little jealous. Thanksgiving in California with our wider family sounds amazing.

I’m still very much enjoying the current project I’m on at work and I wish I could spend the next five years on it. That would be perfectly fine with me, but I believe I’ll be wrapped up early next year then who knows what’s next? 😃

Time for some linkage.

Kyle Wiggers • TechCrunch

In a post on OpenAI’s official blog, the company writes that Altman’s departure follows a “deliberative review process by the board” that concluded that Altman “wasn’t consistently candid in his communications” with other board members, “hindering its ability to exercise its responsibilities.”

This whole situation is weird and the announcement sounds rushed and leaves one scratching their head.

Ina Fried • Axios

Microsoft, which has invested billions in OpenAI, learned that OpenAI was ousting CEO Sam Altman just a minute before the news was shared with the world, according to a person familiar with the situation.

The firing of Altman seems so rushed. Why wouldn’t the board have taken a bit longer making the decision so they could warn their partners ahead of time?

Microsoft is heavily invested in OpenAI. I can’t imagine they’re happy about how this went down.

L. Jeffrey Zeldman

As for folks who don’t spend their time macro-blogging—“ordinary people” who use rather than spend significant chunks of their day creating web content—Tai points out that this, statistically at least a more important issue than the fate and choices of the artists formerly known as digerati, remains unsolved, but with glimmers of partially solution-shaped indicators in the form of a re-emerging indieweb impulse:

Long live blogs and the indie web. If you’re blogging you’re not answering a the whims of a corporation who could lock you out at any time and can make money off of your hard work.

Own your content. Start a blog and link it everywhere.

Neal Riley • CBS News

CONCORD, N.H. - A suspect is dead after a shooting at New Hampshire State Hospital in Concord Friday afternoon. Police say the situation is now “contained” and all patients at the hospital are safe.

GUNS, GUNS, GUNS, America loves gun.

The GOP likes to say it’s a mental health issue. Fine, let’s get laws and required training so the people with mental health issues don’t get their hands on guns. Right?

Vjeran Pavic • The Verge

The blue versus green bubble debate may finally be winding down. Apple says, in 2024, the iPhone will add support for RCS messaging, the messaging standard used by most Android phones, according to a report from 9to5Mac.

I hope Apple builds this as a separate app. Keep those blue and green bubbles separate. If they do it gives them a chance to build something new in SwiftUI from the word go. That would be really nice to see.

If they have to make it part of Messages hopefully they do it in a way that doesn’t totally screw up the Messages UI.

Oh, and I really hope they keep their own messaging platform.

Jonathan M. Gitlin • Ars Technica

GM will build F1 powertrains in 2028 as long as F1 lets Andretti in

I’m so down with this and am hopeful Andretti Cadillac are given a charter. American racing needs to have a presence it what some see as the premier racing league in the world. There are only 20 drivers in the F1 world today. Two drivers from each of 10 teams. Expanding the grid by two would be amazing, and having an American company producing power units for that team would be absolutely incredible. Here’s hoping Haas does a deal with Ford. 😃

Joan Westenberg

Automattic’s recent announcement that Tumblr is being put into maintenance mode feels like the end of a personal era. Tumblr wasn’t just another social network; it was a cultural phenomenon, a haven for the eclectic and the expressive, where the internet’s fringes found a voice and a community.

I’d hate to see Tumblr disappear. It’s different than WordPress or Facebook or Mastodon or any other blogging platform. It has a different feel to it that’s difficult to describe but Joan’s use of eclectic is a great choice. We need networks like that on the web.

Here’s hoping it finds a way to keep on keepin on. 🤞🏼

Ted Johnson • Deadline

UPDATED, with White House comment: TikTok announced today that it was removing videos that have popped up on the platform in which users of various ages and ethnicities promote Osama bin Laden‘s “Letter to America,” which he had written to justify the attacks on 9/11.

I’ve never seen the video or read the transcript but I’d imagine it lays out his point in a way which makes perfect sense. The problem is, the man was a terrorist. He was all about exterminating the west and western culture. These folks are true believers and they put their money where their mouth is by killing innocent people to further their views.

Earlier in the week I said we were lucky on January 6 when the Capitol was stormed. Those folks were not serious people or it would’ve gotten much, much, worse and they wouldn’t have left.

I feel like the Christian Nationalist movement is on the path to becoming an American terrorist organization and they want to run the nation. Sound familiar? Yeah, it’s what Gaza has/had with Hamas in charge.

A theocracy in the United States will not work.

The Iconfactory

The next step was to give this new product a name. After several weeks of trial and error we landed on “xScope”. The “X” worked for both the operating system and the “examination” done by the tool. All the assets and websites were put in place and we got ready to launch with our unique tool with a unique name.

A hearty congratulations to one of my favorite companies in the world! I’ve been a user of xScope for a number of years now and it’s extremely handy for looking at screen layouts at the pixel level.

Highly birthday!🥳

Folklore

Finally, the team noticed one user that was particularly flummoxed by the dialog box, who even seemed to be getting a bit angry. The moderator interrupted the test and asked him what the problem was. He replied, “I’m not a dolt, why is the software calling me a dolt?”

Folklore is a great site if you’re at all interested in Apple’s early days. So many amazing stories.

Benj Edwards • Ars Technica

On Wednesday at the Microsoft Ignite conference, Microsoft announced two custom chips designed for accelerating in-house AI workloads through its Azure cloud computing service: Microsoft Azure Maia 100 AI Accelerator and the Microsoft Azure Cobalt 100 CPU.

This is really cool and exciting! I hope Microsoft realizes performance boosts and energy savings in their Azure data centers.

Now, how do I get one for my desktop Windows computer. 😁

Bryn Bodayle

The iOS UI framework landscape shifted in 2019 with the introduction of SwiftUI, a first-party declarative UI framework that accomplishes many of the same goals as Epoxy. Although SwiftUI was not a good fit for our needs during its first three years, by 2022 it offered increased stability and API availability. It was around this time that we started to consider adopting SwiftUI at Airbnb.

This will be fun to monitor. Airbnb tried to adopt React Native a few years back and abandoned the effort in favor of native development.

I have a feeling SwiftUI will stick. If you’re an iOS shop you don’t really have any choice. 😁

Dr. Ashish Bamania

Google Rejected Max Howell(Creator Of Homebrew) For Getting This Interview Question Wrong. Can You?

There are plenty of amazing software developers working at smaller shops because they can’t get past these types of interviews.

I’d managed to get an interview with Google in 2018-19 timeframe and canceled it when I was told I’d have to study for a couple weeks before interviewing. I was given links to algorithms and other materials to prepare for the interview. I was also assigned a mentor to help me prepare. 😳

The job was working on Chrome for iOS.

I canceled the interview.

Jena McGregor

Employees frustrated with their CEOs’ return-to-office mandates have tried arguing that remote work is linked with greater productivity. That it helps the environment with fewer commutes and improves diversity by broadening the talent pool. Now, they may have another argument to get their CEOs’ attention: Higher revenue growth.

More support for the remote work lifestyle. When I read articles like this I always think about the other articles I’ve read about working from home being the devil.

Working from home works for me but not for everyone. I’ve even considered going into the office one to two days a week just for a change of pace. Kim asked me “Are you that desperate to get COVID again?” the other day when I mentioned possibly going into work one day next week. She’s not wrong. I definitely do not want COVID again. I got COVID in 2022 at a group onsite and was exposed to COVID at a recent onsite. My luck at the office hasn’t been great.

Steve Yegge

I was at Amazon for about six and a half years, and now I’ve been at Google for that long. One thing that struck me immediately about the two companies – an impression that has been reinforced almost daily – is that Amazon does everything wrong, and Google does everything right.

This is a pretty long read so make sure your mug is full.

Neha Dwivedi • EssentiallySports

As it turns out, Kurt Busch has never been shy about wearing his heart on his sleeve, especially when it comes to his love for Formula 1. Flashback to June 2016, with NASCAR taking a week off, Busch jetted off to catch the Haas F1 Team in action at the Grand Prix of Europe in Azerbaijan, right after he qualified 17th for the FireKeepers Casino 400 at MIS.

I’d like to see some crossover between NASCAR and F1. Let’s start with Kyle Larson in an F1 ride and go from there. Maybe he could drive for Haas or the new Andretti Cadillac team? 😃

[warmthintouches]

Him: when is your next day off?

Me: Thursday

Him: would you like to go to our taco date that day?

Me: sure, if you want.

Him: okay 😊

Me: we both have to not die at work before then

Him: yes, thats going to be hard. Do you have another day off when you might not be exhausted?

Me: just friday

Him: shoot i was hoping you'd say Saturday so you'd be rested and I wouldn't have work.

Me: yeah.. Thursday would work better for me tbh

Him: okay, ill have to see. I go to my friends moms to play jeopardy on Thursdays.

Me: oh, okay?

Him: but it could be early or late so maybe I could still go..

Me: 👍

Me: do you realize that YOU asked me to go get tacos on Thursday and then a couple sentences later said you might be busy? Wtf?

Him: 😅 I forgot about jeopardy.

Me: okay, cool

Him: im sorry. I can not go?

Me: I wouldn't ask that of you, I know its important to you bc you've told me before, just made me feel kinda shitty that you did that and I didn't like it.

Him: I understand, I cannot emphasize enough how shitty I feel about it. I am an asshole and didn't even realize it until you pointed it out.

Me: its..okay I guess.

Him: its not. Im sorry, im not doing very good at showing you i want to see you or spend time with you..

Me: no, not really. When I like someone I like spending time with them. Sometimes it feels like you dont care if you see me or not.. And I know you've been sick but.. that stuff about Thursday didn't help at all.

Him: im really really sorry. I will make it up to you. Im so sorry. I don't want to make you feel like that at all. I enjoy seeing you a lot. And ...I miss you.

Me: okay, if you say so.

Him: you're never going to believe me when I say that are you?

Me: definitely not now bud 👍

Him: fuck 😥

[seabonre]

link getting to work before rhett in the mornings and just being so happy to see him one day, eyes softening and voice pitching up when rhett walks in. when he greets him from the couch he can barely move his mouth because he’s smiling so big and rhett questions his unusually good mood but he’s smiling too. link shrugs and says he just slept well last night is all. 

the rest of the day is filled with heightened amounts of giggles and touches and sweet gestures. rhett puts extra effort into making link laugh, which, of course, succeeds. link asks rhett periodically if he needs to take a break from work, a nap, some tea, but rhett’s stress instantly melts away just at the sound of link’s caring questions, and so he smiles and says thank you, but no thanks, i’m doing just fine with you here. 

rhett ends up being so desperate for link’s attention all day long, waiting patiently for him to finish a conversation before he pulls him aside to show him something he’d otherwise text him. link smiles fondly, doing his best to snap out of his affection long enough to take this sweet, passionate man seriously, nodding and asking questions. 

link takes every excuse to hug rhett. little, inconsequential things are cause for celebration, like rhett successfully catching a cashew in his mouth after several instances of link tossing them in the air and having them land all over the kitchen floor. he throws himself at rhett in triumph, laughing and grasping him tighter when they nearly fall against the side of the counter. 

as if that’s not enough, link hugs him quick after a good shoot, pulls him into his side with a squeeze when he comes up with a great idea, gives him a grateful pat-pat-rub on his back when he brings him lunch. rhett takes them all gratefully, feeling warm inside at every touch. 

rhett asks link to come over after work, says jess wants to see him, his voice just a little too casual. but there’s a gentle hopefulness in his eyes that says jessie isn’t the only one, so link agrees, deciding to leave his car at the studio and have rhett drive him home later. rhett keeps him for longer than either of them planned — even jessie looked happily surprised to see link when he arrived, successfully debunking rhett’s claim that she’d been expecting him. the two men stay unconsciously close to each other all night, following the other into the kitchen at dinner when one of them announces they need a refill of their glass. they opt to eat dessert outside, just the two of them with plates in their laps and each other’s ice cream on their spoons, cackling loud into the night. link hooks his leg under one of rhett’s. rhett lets himself blush and offers him more ice cream. 

when rhett finally takes link home, they stay parked in link’s driveway for a full half hour, unable to stop talking. it’s well past midnight and they have work the next day but link knows he’s gonna have to skip the gym anyway, what with his car still left in the parking lot. it’s almost one in the morning when rhett gives him a reluctant alright, man and link’s gotta go. link’s loopy with laughter and the one beer he had, forgetting to take his eyes away from rhett while he tries to get his own seatbelt off. rhett moves in to help him, a little too close, giggling with his hair brushing link’s nose while they both look down at the buckle. eventually, rhett gets it unstuck but doesn’t make to move back to his side of the car. he meets link’s eyes with a grin, the same one he’s had all day, and link giggles low at their proximity. rhett whispers, tells him goodbye. link returns it. he doesn’t open the door. 

it’s tense and quiet for a good few seconds as they smirk at one another, seeing who’ll crack first. they both soon break down in giggles, reveling in the awkward ridiculousness of it all. don’t i get a goodbye kiss? link asks. this makes rhett laugh harder. he says maybe next time. link shakes his head and finally moves away, still smiling brightly. he gets out of the car, leaving his coat on the floor on purpose. he leans in the open door, just a crack, and says he’ll see him tomorrow. rhett tells him to sleep well, to please, sleep well again tonight. link nods, enters his home. his cheeks ache. he holds himself up against his front door with weak knees. he sighs. he sleeps better that night than he has in a long time.

[athena-writes-i-guess]

Scare Zone

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader (reader is referred to as a girl a few times)

Summary: Eddie finds a flier for the first ever Hawkins Scare Zone and asks you to go with him.

Word count: 2824

Warning: established relationship, pet names, scare zone/haunted house descriptions, fake blood and weapons mentioned, clowns, fluff, very very light hurt/comfort.

A/N: Hello! This is my Halloween special! This is a little special in the same world and storyline as my series, Mixtape. You do not have to have read it to read this, this is a one-shot but the same reader from that is in this! I went to a bunch of scare zones when I was on vacation and I thought it would be fun to write about going to one with Eddie! I really hope you like this!

Masterlist

“Babe!” Eddie called out as he hopped out of his van, slamming the door shut before bounding up to you as you sat on his porch waiting for him. “Sorry I’m late, pretty girl.” He said before pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

“It’s okay Eds, I got some reading done while I waited.” You smiled up at him as you took the hand he presented.

“Whatcha reading this time?” He asked as he helped you stand up and led you to the side door of his trailer.

“Dracula.” You laughed as you followed him through the now unlocked door and into his bedroom. “It felt seasonally appropriate.” You smiled brightly up at him as you plopped yourself down on his bed.

“It definitely is.” He smiled. “You’ll have to tell me how you like it, I read it a couple years ago.” He said, digging for something in his back pocket as he stood in front of you. He pulled out a folded neon orange paper and started unfolding it, a goofy grin on his face. “I saw this flier at the record shop, I thought we could go.”

He handed the paper to you and printed in black ink it read “Hawkins Scare Zone: Every Friday and Saturday in October”.

“Scare Zone?” You asked, looking up at your boyfriend with a quirked brow.

“Yeah! It’s their first time doing one of these. I think it’s where they have actors come out and scare you. I bet it’s gonna be lame cause its Hawkins. But I bet we can make it fun.” He said eagerly, nodding his head in encouragement.

You bit your lip in faux contemplation before shooting him a bright smile, “You’ll hold my hand the whole way right?” You asked.

Eddie beamed, “Of course! Gotta keep my baby safe.” He teased lightly. He took your hands in his and squeezed them lightly.

“Want to go to the one tonight?” You asked as you reciprocated the gesture.

Eddie nodded his head enthusiastically, “Oh yeah. We can get some burgers at the diner before and head over.”

So that’s what you did, and how you now found yourself standing in a long line of mostly older teens and young adults at the Hawkins fairgrounds. You were clutching your ticket tightly in one hand while the other was clinging to Eddie’s. He turned his head to you and took in the anxious expression you were trying to hide.

“Remember, they’re just actors babe. Nothing to worry about.” He whispered as he leaned in to leave a kiss to your cheek.

“I know, my friends tried to get me to go to one back in California. But I always made an excuse not to go. Our cat seems to get sick a lot around Halloween.” You chuckled with a somewhat bashful smile.

Eddie laughed as he let go of your hand to snake his arm around your waist, pulling you flush into his side as his other hand grasped the one of yours that he had just released. “Who knew that badass who went up against those demobats was such a little scaredy cat.” He teasingly whispered in your ear.

You smirked at that, “I’ll have you know I was terrified the entire time, I almost pissed myself when they started swarming.” You joked, Eddie threw his head back as he laughed and squeezed your side as the line started moving into the event.

The two of you followed the crowd as it grouped around some of the employees as they explained the rules of the event. You were currently in the main event area where there were concessions and some carnival games. Eddie pulled you over to one, the balloon popping dart game, and laid down the $2 fee to play.

He shot you a knowing wink before throwing dart after dart and hitting a balloon each time. Impressing you, and the employee working the counter. “Well, you win. Which one do you want?” He asked, pointing to the wall of stuffed animals.

Your boyfriend turned to you, “Which one dolly?” He asked with a proud smile on his face. You beamed and pointed to a stuffed jack o'lantern. “One pumpkin for the lady please.” He said to the employee who just rolled his eyes as he grabbed one of the stuffed pumpkins off the wall and then handed it to Eddie who then gave it to you.

“Thank you Eddie! Who knew you were so good at darts!” You exclaimed as you hugged the Jack O'Lantern briefly before Eddie resumed his previous hold on you, one arm wrapped around your waist as the other held your free hand.

“I’m full of surprises, sweet thing. Let’s go to the scares now though.” He said with a large smile.

Eddie led you through an archway that brought you into the scare zone that you would have to walk through to get to the haunted houses. You could already hear the distant sounds of chainsaws and manic laughter through the fog in front of you.

You squeezed the metalheads hand tightly as he pulled you forward. “I got you sweetheart.” Eddie encouraged as you walked into the foggy darkness. You heard the screaming of couples in front of you as you moved, causing the hair to stand up on your body as the anticipation got to you.

Suddenly a man covered in blood ran out of the darkness from your left wielding a large chainsaw as he laughed maniacally. You didn’t want to, but you couldn’t stop the scream from escaping from your throat as you jumped and turned into Eddie as he laughed and he led you away from the actor.

“Keep your girl close.” You heard the man yell out in a gravely voice from behind you as you moved.

“Oh I definitely will.” Eddie called back, completely unphased.

You made it through the zone quickly with Eddie holding you tight to his side and now you found yourselves in the area where they held the entrances to the 3 houses they had. You looked at each of the signs: Simon’s Slaughterhouse, Phantom Lake, and Twisted Carnival.

“Which should we do first?” You asked, looking up at your boyfriend as he thought. “The Carnival?”

“Definitely the slaughterhouse one.” Eddie said quickly, pulling you towards the house entrance.

The line for this one wasn’t as long as some of the others and you got into the area quickly. You walked in and you were greeted with the interior of a disheveled house. You walked through the blood-stained living room as an actor dressed as a knitting grandma sat in a rocking chair and told you how delicious you would taste once her son got to you.

“Hey, only I get to taste my girlfriend!” Eddie exclaimed, receiving an “Eddie!” as you flushed and pulled him into the next room. He laughed as he followed you, taking in the decorations around him as you walked through the numerous rooms.

You were walking down a particularly dark hallway and couldn’t feel where Eddie was anymore as he had dropped your hand. “Eddie?” You said quietly, there was no response. You tried to look around but you couldn't see anything as you squeezed your new stuffed animal tightly. Where had he gone?

Your nerves were starting to rise when all of a sudden you felt someone land behind you and grab both of your sides with a loud “Boo!” Causing you to scream and jerk forward into the next room.

“Hey, hey, sweetheart! It’s just me!” Eddie called after you as he followed you quickly. He grabbed your hand as you fled and brought you back to him. “I’m sorry baby. I thought it would be funny.” He chuckled softly as he pulled you flush with him again and kept walking you through the maze.

“It wasn’t Eddie! You scared the shit outta me!” You exclaimed as you were led through the blood stained room.

“That’s the whole point!” You heard the actor laugh at you as he pretended to saw a body in half.

“Sorry pretty girl.” Eddie laughed lightly as he brought you into the next room.

There were fake body parts hanging from the ceiling as you walked through a freezer and you had to brush past as you walked through. A figure jumped out from behind a fake torso, “You’ll end up here too!” He yelled as he brandished a large knife in front of you, causing you to jump and hide in Eddie’s neck as he led you out laughing.

You exited the maze and were now out in the event area that led to the other houses. “You better not try that again, Munson.” You scolded as you pulled Eddie to the next house, Phantom Lake.

~~

“Hold on, what the fuck didn’t you just say?” Eddie asked with his eyebrows furrowed and an amused grin on his face.

It was much later, you had gone through the other house which was camp themed with a serial killer chasing you throughout like Friday the 13th and now you were waiting in the line for the last house of the evening, Twisted Carnival.

“The song is a song about a dance song. It’s like making a song about the Electric Slide song but Halloween themed.” You explained as you played with the rings on his hand that you were holding.

“The Monster Mash?” Eddie quirked his head with a fond smile.

“Yeah! The lyrics are about a guy walking through his castle while a bunch of monsters do a dance called the Monster Mash. The song we are hearing is not the song they are dancing to. We are listening to a song about monsters dancing to a different song called the Monster Mash.” You laughed.

“Babe, you’re blowing my mind here.” Your boyfriend explained before he pulled you close to him to leave a wet kiss to your cheek as you walked through the entrance to the maze.

You practically preen into the affection before Eddie jumped away from you, startled, as a small woman dressed as a clown jumped in front of you with a loud scream while honking a horn. You screamed in response, scared yourself, but were shocked by the yelp that came from your boyfriend behind you.

“Babe keep moving!” You heard from him as he pushed you forward, clinging to you from behind.

His voice sounded shaky and nervous. Was Eddie Munson scared? The man who had seen and been through so much a few months ago in the Upsidedown was scared in a haunted house? A clown themed one at that? The same man who laughed and joked his way through all the other houses you went through tonight was now holding onto you tightly as you led the way through the circus themed maze.

You smiled fondly to yourself as you felt Eddie’s sweaty hands squeeze yours as you walked through a door and into a dimly lit mirror maze. You took in Eddie’s expression as you caught a glimpse in a mirror in front of you. His eyebrows were both furrowed and raised high in concern, his eyes were scanning the room frantically, wide and scared, and he seemed to be mumbling something under his breath as he walked. You listened closely over the carnival music they were playing through the house.

“Are you singing Sabbath lyrics under your breath?” You questioned him as you walked forward, spying the next clown as he showed up in one of the mirrors in front of you.

“It calms me down!” Eddie defended, his grip on your hand was incredibly tight as he followed you though. You laughed lightly at that as you wound your way to the entrance to the next room, past the smiling clown. Eddie jumped as the clown lunged for him with a manic laugh, his Sabbath lyrics coming out quickly now almost like a prayer of protection.

The metalhead groaned once you entered the next room, it was a full big top circus with bloody, knife wielding clowns wandering through. They were laughing and screaming at the other patrons as they moved in front of you, occasionally chasing a few as they ran into the next room.

A particularly tall clown bounded up to you two, he was in a bright white and rainbow polka dot outfit with large shoes, he wore a bright green wig that jutted out in all directions and he was splattered with fake blood. He ran up to you and Eddie, an unnerving high-pitched giggle coming out of him as he thundered forward.

“Babe! Move now!” Eddie practically shouted as he took the hand he was holding and pulled you along behind him as he ran into the next room with the clowns laughing as you passed.

You pulled on Eddie’s arm to bring him back to you as you entered the next room. It was much darker and decorated like a dressing room and thankfully it was currently clown free.

“Hey, pretty boy, slow down.” You cooed, pulling him into you and placing a protective arm around him as you walked slowly through. “It’s alright, they’re just actors, remember?” You told him, rubbing soothing circles into his back with the arm wrapped around him, you handed him your stuffed pumpkin before grabbing on of his hands, effectively copying the way he had held you earlier to calm you down.

“Right, right. Actors.” Eddie mumbled, eyes still wide as he scanned the room. You thankfully seemed to miss the actor in this room, a nice reprieve for the metalhead.

Thankfully for Eddie, the rest of the maze wasn’t as clown filled and he let you lead him out into the fresh October air. He followed you to a corner with minimal people, his head hung slightly as he stood next to you.

“Sorry about that.” He said softly, avoiding your eyes.

“Why are you sorry?” You asked, confused, as he handed you the pumpkin back.

“It’s not really attractive to have to help your boyfriend through a fake haunted house.” He sighed, fidgeting with his rings.

“Hey. Eddie, baby, look at me!” You demanded, his large brown eyes landed on yours, full of concern. “We came here to get scared and you’ve been helping me through this whole event! Is it unattractive to you that I was scared through the houses?” You asked, receiving a very quick shake of his head. “Then why would it be unattractive to me? Just means I know what scares the scary Eddie Munson.” You joked, poking his chest playfully as you smiled up at him.

A small smile broke on his face, “Great. Now you’re gonna try to scare me aren’t you?” He asked.

You gasped in faux offense. “Me? Scare you on purpose? What kind of girlfriend do you think I am? Can you believe he would ask me that?” You questioned to your stuffed pumpkin. “Jack is just as offended as I am at your suggestion Edward.” You said, barely able to fight the grin wanting to pull at your lips.

“Wow, wiping out the government name.” He smiled, “I’m very sorry for suggesting it, sweetheart.”

“Ah, ah, ah.” You said, holding up your stuffed friend to face Eddie, who rolled his eyes.

“And I’m sorry Jack.” He sighed, but he couldn’t fight the smile he had as you beamed back up at him. “Ready to go home babygirl? We can watch a movie.” He asked as he draped his arm around your shoulder and started leading you back to the entrance of the event.

“Yes please! But no scary movies tonight okay? I’m all out of scares.” You said as you snuggled into him. “Can we watch Pretty in Pink?” You asked brightly.

“You said no scary movies.” Eddie joked, planting a kiss in your hair as you laughed. “Yeah, I guess we can watch it again, sweet thing. Anything for you.”

“So, what’s with the clowns if you don’t mind me asking?” You wondered as you walked.

“What do you mean? Clowns are beings of nightmares.” He said seriously, smiling as you laughed loudly. “But really, it was from my childhood. Old man brought me to a circus one year. It didn’t go super well.” He said simply and you decided now was not the time to pry.

“Thank you for a great night Eddie. Happy Halloween.” You said happily, stopping outside his van once you got there. You leaned up to place a gentle kiss on his lips, something sweet and soft.

Eddie snaked his arms around your waist pulling you flush with him as he kissed you back hungrily. You pulled away with a cheeky smile on your face. “Not in front of Jack!” You teased, giggling as he rolled his eyes before he brought you back to him and found your lips again.

Taglist: @srapalestina @yvonneeeee @cityofidek @anaisweird @mrslovesmayahawke @harrys-tittie

[shurisneakers]

if you're taking ideas for harmless drabbles, i'd love to see one of bucky on one of those dates he mentioned and reader's shenanigans. if you aren't, feel free to ignore this!

a/n: are we really going to let a word limit define what a drabble is? is the vibe and spirit not enough? i say this bc this is 5.7k words long im so sorry. also hey thank you to everyone who piped in with their knowledge of violent geese and how apartment security works in new york!! also thanks to my bby @spiderrpcrker for reading this and telling me to publish this bc i wasnt going to fkjghfkj

warning: swearing, bad luck, dates, frustrated bucky, anxiety, mentions of gore but like only a sentence

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Catch up with the rest of the series here: Harmless Masterlist

Bucky returns only two weeks later. His mission lasted longer than expected and all he wants is to lie down and sleep for forty eight hours straight.

“FRIDAY?” he mumbles, kicking off his shoes. His jacket had already been discarded by his bedroom door when he walked in.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?”

“How are ya?” He doesn’t miss a beat in asking, even though he’s exhausted.

“As good as ever. Did you have a successful mission?”

“If by successful you mean one sprained limb instead of two, then yeah.” He wasn’t really cribbing. His ankle was already starting to heal anyway and it was worth the roundhouse kick to a Nazi's face. “Do I have anything scheduled for this weekend?”

“You have a meeting on your calendar scheduled for this Saturday.”

“Could you send a text to Y/N and ask if we can push it to the next day?” His muscles feel sore and God, he could definitely use a hot shower but all of that becomes secondary the minute he feels the sheets under him.

“Would you like me to reschedule the other one as well?”

“What’s that?” He opens one eye in confusion. “There’s another one?”

“It’s on Sunday. You’ve labelled it ‘date’.”

Ah, fuck.

“Would you like me to change it?” FRIDAY never sounds like she’s judging him, which is nice. It also reminds him about how she, as an AI, can’t judge him, which is a rude wake-up call to how he doesn’t have friends.

“No,” his voice is muffled against the pillow, “no, let it be. Where is it again?”

“You’ve only specified diner, Sergeant Barnes.”

Public space, daytime, plenty of escape routes. Good on his less delirious self for selecting a diner.

“Thanks, FRIDAY.” Now that he’s a little more relaxed, he can feel himself slip in and out of consciousness.

“One last thing," her automated voice commands his attention again. "Y/N replied. She says sure and to take care.”

“Yay.” Not even a second later he’s out like a light.

____

“Did you bring me any souvenirs?” Is the first thing he hears as he marches into your lair.

“What could I possibly get you?”

“A postcard, a t-shirt.” You don’t look up from your tinkering.

“Decapitated finger, used bullets,” he continues, “cement blocks.”

“Ew.” You snap the lid shut on the thing you’re working on, spinning around on your chair. "That's not nearly romantic enough."

“That’s all you’re going to get from a Russian underground bunker.” He does a mini jog up the stairs of the platform to where you are.

“Does the finger have a ring at lea- oh hello?” You raise an eyebrow at the sight of him. “You look different.”

He peers down. The outfit was still all black. As always.

“Not your clothes, dummy,” you interrupt, making him look back at you. “Your face. What’d you do?”

He unconsciously raises a hand to his cheek.

“Did you wash your face? Is that it?” you squint at him. “Has it been a few months since the last time?”

“Wow, you’re so funny,” he drawls sarcastically.  “Top tier comedian right there.”

“No wait, it’s the beard.” You snap your fingers in realisation, completely ignoring his comment. “You trimmed it.”

“So what if I did?” He leans on your table.

“You going somewhere?” you ask, elastic snapping against your hands as you remove your gloves.

“It’s none of your busi-”

“Hold on a second.” A sly smile begins to make its way onto your face. “Are you going on a date, Bucky Barnes?”

His comeback dies down in his throat. That didn’t take you very long for you to figure out.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” You look smug, to say the least.

“Shut up.” A ray of light glistening distracts him. He traces it to the thing you were working on earlier.

“Where are you guys going?” You cross your arm across your chest, a small smirk on your face.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” It’s a silver box, engraved intricately with swirls that, when he observes carefully, looks like a skull. Wow, terrifying.

“I’m literally asking you.”

“What are those?” He shifts the conversation towards a more productive angle instead.

“Evil in a box and some other stuff.” You shrug offhandedly. “Is it a lunch date or just coffee?”

“Like Pandora’s Box?”

“A discount version, sure,” you confirmed impatiently. “Stop changing the topic, listen to me.”

He tilts his head, waiting for you to continue.

“Do you need a chaperone?” The sincerity in your voice for such a bullshit question has him scoffing.

“Good God- no, I do not need a chaperone. I’m 106 years old, I can go out unsupervised.” He reaches over and plucks the box off your table.

“Sir, you’re a geriatric."

“What are those?” He points to a few ray odd ray guns.

“Minor stuff you don’t have to worry about right now.”

He shakes the box in his hand. “What’s gonna happen if I open this?”

“Very bad things,” you whispered ominously before your volume returns to normal. “How’d you meet this person? Online?”

“She’s Natasha’s friend.” He turns the box over, seeing a small latch at the side. “What bad things?”

“Bad luck and misery. Don’t play with it, it’s dangerous.” You pull the box away from him. “Aw, is it a blind date?”

“Why do you care so much?” he shoots back, tugging the box back towards him.

“Just lookin’ out for you, Bucko,” you huff, adjusting your grip on your device. “Need to keep my favourite senior citizen safe.”

“I have a vibranium arm.” Whose force he could use to grab the box once and for all, but wasn’t. “I think I’ll be fine.”

“What if she has one too, huh? Then what?”

“She doesn’t.” As far as he knows, he’s the only one alive with a metal appendage made out of the strongest metal in the world. That could very well change by tomorrow but he's keeping the title for now.

“But what if she does? I swear to- stop trying to take the box!” You pull a little more forcefully, but he doesn’t relent.

“I want this to get over before this evening.”

“What time’s your date?”

“Why do you care?” He’s sure anyone who saw the dumb tug-of-war you both were playing would just automatically assume he was an absolute manchild, not an Avenger.

“Because.” You don’t explain further. “Tell me what time your date is, you weirdo.”

“Five o’clock, now let go.”

“Fine,” you say, suddenly loosening your grip. Clearly, it doesn't make much of a difference since he isn't struggling to keep his balance from the sudden loss of force.

“Fine.” He clears his throat, straightening up. 

You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either.

A putrid smell creeps into his nose, one all too similar to spoiled milk and decaying seaweed. He has to physically stop himself from gagging.

“Have a good day.” You smile and lean far back. Too far. It looks like you're almost going to fall out of the chair.

Through the tears that are threatening to line his eyelids, he looks down at the box whose latch you somehow managed to lift, leaving the box open.

“What the fuck is this?” He coughs, swatting at the air in front of him to clear it.

“I told you; bad luck in a box.”

“You can’t scientifically create bad luck, that’s bullshit.” He tosses the box back onto your table. You watch it slide past you, not making any effort to stop it. “What is it really?”

“I’m not lying.” You pull open a drawer, brandishing a small table fan that you set down beside you. “If you open it, you’re going to have terrible luck for the day.”

He glowers at you when you turn the fan on, forcing the fumes back towards him.

“Besides, that’s all I was doing today.” You kick your feet up. “So you can leave now.”

He doesn’t care if you’re lying about not having anything else to do today. You could burn down the world if you wanted to but he needs to take a stupid shower. Again.

“You’re the fuckin’ worst.” He tries airing out his shirt, hoping that the smell would dissipate as soon as possible.

“Have fun on your date, sarge!” you encourage him as he stalks out of the lair. “Remember to wrap it befo-”

He turns it into a sprint before you can finish.

____

Six hours later and he’s absolutely convinced he fucked up.

He isn’t used to having his weekends free.

He realises that this is the first time in months that he’s actually stepped out of the Tower for something that wasn’t directly mission-related. He should probably get some air. Touch some grass. See the sun.

His shirt thankfully manages to rid itself of the odour from the dumb box so he didn’t have to go take a shower. With nothing much planned and a few hours to spare, he heads to the coffee shop instead.

It’s a small place, bustling and alive with a crowd of people. They have a little bookshelf that usually is full of books donated by patrons, free for anyone to read.

The barista smiles at him. The coffee costs more than his high school education. He awkwardly smiles back.

He’s not a regular, but they’ve seen him enough times to know that he usually asks for black coffee in a to-go cup, later adding a sugar or two according to his own taste. They're nice to him, occasionally throwing in a cookie or something on the house. He can't tell if it's because of the Avenger status or the sizeable tip he leaves.

He picks up a random book from the shelf, fully intending not to read it but to just sit there and think. The book acted as a shield for his resting bitch face, resting murder face and his resting rage face. More often than not, a good combination of the three.

He sets the coffee down at the corner table he manages to nab in a quick second, along with the two sachets of sugar.

“Is this seat taken?” Someone asks from beside him. He earnestly shakes his head in a ‘no’, gesturing for them to take it.

They give him a quick thanks and drag the chair away from his table.

He does a quick overlook of the book he picked up.

The Princess Diaries by Meg Cabot.

Well, now he’s too anxious to put it back. YA fiction it is.

He reaches for the sugar while glossing over the summary. He reaches a little further when it doesn’t come to his hand immediately, blindly running his fingers across the table.

Bucky peeks over the book, eyebrows knitting together when he notices that they’re missing.

He was sure he picked it up.

He looks underneath the table. It wasn’t there, neither under his seat. Strange, but okay. He picks up the book and the cup, walking back to the station to grab two sugars.

This time he makes sure to tuck it into his pocket, double-checking before going back to his table.

Which was now occupied. He wanted to groan.

His mind automatically reverts back to the box from that morning.

“Come on,” he scoffs quietly to himself. It was a coincidence. “Get yourself together.”

“A seat at the counter just cleared up,” the barista from earlier offers when she sees him standing in the middle of the store.

See? Good luck.

He shoots her a grateful look, venturing over to the barstool to take his place. It’s not the most comfortable, but then again, he wasn’t planning to stay there for very long.

He empties the sugar into the coffee, stirring slowly before opening a random page in the book.

He takes a long sip, ignoring how hot the drink was.

He chokes immediately. Because either he was losing his mind or his order had somehow got switched from ‘no sugar’ to ‘diabetes in a cup’.

He takes another small sip and his face immediately twists in disgust. Definitely too sweet. The sweetener he added only made it worse.

He catches the eye of the barista. She looks on in concern.

“Is everything okay?”

Fuck.

He’s not one to make a scene. He just wants to live as imperceptibly as he could.

“Yep.” The sweetness sticks to the back of his throat. “All good.”

He just closes his eyes and downs the rest of it without thinking twice, trying to hide the grimace in his face. He gives her a weak thumbs up. She doesn't look convinced.

He leaves the shop soon after, hands shoved in his pocket. Maybe he could go sit by the lake at Central Park, watch the clouds. It reminded Bucky of the lake in front of his hut in Wakanda and the hours he'd sit in front of it, feet dipped into the water as his goats fed. He misses it.

He makes a sharp turn at a corner, still thinking about his options when his ankle abruptly twists under him.

He stumbles rather ungracefully, almost hitting the ground, but manages to save himself through the newly built up immunity he has towards falling thanks to all his encounters with you.

His gaze lands on his hardcore combat boots. Their laces had come undone.

Now he just knew that was horseshit. He always double knots them; they had never loosened in the past before.

The box.

He shoves the thought out of his head, crouching down to tie them again. He tugs on them to make sure they’re secure before standing up again.

Central Park is a few blocks away but he’s glad he didn’t bring his bike. The weather was rather nice and the wind in his hair felt good.

He wanders around the park for a while, looking for the lake. He pauses at a board with a map of the park on it, assessing how far it was.

Once he's ascertained which path to go towards, he turns on his heel to go.

He fucking trips again.

“Are you serious?” he says furiously under his breath. “Cut it out.”

He’s half-convinced that he should tie it around his ankle like a sexy lace-up set of heels. He ties a triple knot this time, glares at it until he’s sure it’s fine and checks to see if anyone saw him humiliate himself.

Only a person on a nearby bench who looked like they were passed out drunk, given that their hoodie and sunglasses clad self was slumped over.

No witnesses. No 'You won't BELIEVE what the Winter Soldier did! Critics say it's his biggest blunder yet!' articles the next day on social media.

He manages to make it to the lake in one piece and no more falls, partly because he keeps his eyes fixed on his shoes to ensure no fuckery occurs.

There are a few people rowing and plenty of others lining the bank at scattered locations. There’s a mom and her kid at the place he ends up. She sends him a small smile in greeting and he returns the favour.

There’s a secluded bench that he takes a place on, letting out a small sigh. If he ignores the traffic and the skateboarders and the people in general, it’s actually kind of peaceful.

There are geese and their little goslings swimming around the water close to the shore. Maybe he should have brought some birdseed. Or kale.

The kid beside him is busy fashioning something out of leaves, only occasionally erupting into giggles when it doesn't pan out. His mom watches him fondly, pointing at twigs he could use. Everything seems kind of picture-perfect and his body automatically relaxes, easing further into the seat and closing his eyes for a second.

Until there's a large splash and loud distressed honking. He whips his head around to find the same kid staring straight ahead at the goose with a wide grin. His mother curses quietly, picking herself up off the ground and grabbing his hand, half chastising him for throwing something at an animal and half urging him to walk faster.

The goose turns to Bucky. With no one else to blame for the sudden attack, it logically launches itself at him. His smile drops.

He gets up in a rush. The dumb bird nearly comes for his head, but he deflects with his metal arm.

“I didn’t even do anything.” He swats at it swiftly, trying not to cause any real damage. The goose, understandably, does not speak English.

He flinches when one of them bites at his knee. He can punt it to the sun but he doesn’t want to.

“Stop that.” He sticks his hand out to shove the stupid thing away, retreating back to the road. “Jesus, why are you so aggressive?”

Among the barrage of feathers showering on him, he prays his damn shoelace doesn’t unravel as he shields his head with one arm, the other fending himself while he moves hurriedly away.

The goose honks angrily at him. He scowls at it, not exactly pleased with the reminder that these fucking overgrown ducks were constantly bloodthirsty.

It doesn’t leave him alone till he’s significantly away from where he was sitting. He wants to call it profanity but that’d probably piss it off more.

The box and its effects were definitely starting to feel real.

Fuck it, no more day out for him. The best plan he can think of is to just go to the diner he’s supposed to meet his date at.

The waiter greets him with a courteous nod, which Bucky can only imagine was the best he could muster when a dishevelled 200-pound man walks in covered in goose feathers and irritation.

He won't admit that he’s too scared to eat lunch at this point because he can’t rule out food poisoning. He spends the next two hours on his phone playing Fruit Ninja and plucking feathers that accented his all-black outfit.

Several glasses of water later and a second before he’s about to beat his high score, someone taps on his shoulder, breaking him out of his concentration.

Motherfu-

He clenches his eye shut, inhaling deeply before turning around.

“James?”

“Hey, yeah, that’s me.” Bucky almost falls over the table with how fast he stands up, clearly underestimating his size. “Leah?”

“Hi.” She smiles and he finds himself smiling nervously along with her.

“Hi.” He steps out to pull out her chair for her and she laughs. "Nice to meet you."

“How long have you been waiting here?” she asks while setting down her bag.

“Around ten minutes.” He clears his throat to hopefully hide the fact that he was lying through his teeth.

“Just give me a second, I need to tell my friend I reached,” Leah pulls out her phone and he nods.

“Another glass of water for you?” The waiter seems less enthusiastic about Bucky’s 8th refill.

“Yes,” he answers, hoping he doesn’t call him out on it, “please.”

“You must be really dehydrated."

Bucky turns to look at him slowly. “I like the taste.”

He can’t really blame the guy. Bucky’s been there for hours without ordering anything solid, just leaching off their free water and complimentary bread basket.

“So, James.” She tosses her phone back into her bag, leaning forward on her palms easily. “Tell me about yourself.”

He had rehearsed this a million times. He could do this.

“I, uh,-”

“Menu?” Okay, so someone clearly had a vendetta against him.

“Thank you.” She takes it with a smile.

His morning debacle with the coffee flashes through his mind. Suddenly the idea of a diner didn’t seem so smart.

However, she’s already placed her order and George is standing beside him expectantly, daring him to ask for another glass of water, so he places his usual order and hopes that your stupid bad luck thing wore off.

He quickly learns that his date is laid back, and it isn’t hard to fall into a rhythm with her even though she’s the one asking most of the questions.

“How’d you meet Nat?” Is his attempt at one.

“She used to come in for lunch every week at the place I work.” Leah leans back in her chair. “She can really handle her alcohol.”

He’d be worried about Nat day drinking if he didn’t know about her complete inability to get drunk. She might as well have been downing glasses of lemonade.

“Yeah, she’s-” Intimidating, scary, cool “-really something.”

“She mentioned that you like movies.”  He definitely spends a lot of time watching them. “You got any recommendations?”

It’s easier to figure out how different things are or how much he missed out over the years through them. He’s glad he sat out the early 2000s, judging by their fashion sense and hairstyles.

He's watched several movies over the past few months, a few of them critically acclaimed and others who were just there for the cult following.

But now everything goes blank and the only thing that he can remember are the biopics made about Steve that were somehow hilarious for gifting him the mental image of Freddie Prinze Jr. dressed in the stars and stripes, and highly distressing for the number of historical inaccuracies. Contrary to popular belief, Stevie did not, in fact, consider running for president after he took up the shield, nor did he start his own bar chain.

He can’t name Oh Captain, My Captain starring Channing Tatum as his favourite movie on his first date and hope to make a good first impression.

“Despicable Me was kinda fun.” He wants to kill himself. “I mean, it’s the last one I saw.”

Her face twists in mild disgust, but he can tell it isn't ill-intentioned. “It's a good movie, but God, that just gave me some intense flashbacks to my aunt’s Facebook page. Don’t think I can look at a minion ever again.”

He sniggers with her. He doesn’t know what the context is.

He’s a little awkward, and he can definitely tell he isn’t the most open book but she laughs at some of his attempts at jokes. There’s a distinct discomfort he has lingering at the back of his mind prodding at him, telling him over and over again that he isn’t ready for something like this. A warning bell, asking him to leave as soon as possible because he was in a dangerous situation.

He remembers what his therapist told him about breathing and remembering that the resources he had available were greater than his anxiety and he tries to get out of his head. It takes a few minutes of acting like he's fine but he manages to do it.

Other than the one time he scalds his tongue on the coffee but played it off with a pained smile, shoving down thoughts of your stupid invention, things actually went okay.

It was nice, even though they decided by the end that it was better if they both gelled together better as friends. It lifts the strange fear he feels and he can hear Dr. Mendoza say she's proud of him for taking this step before spending three hours psychoanalysing why they decided to stay platonic.

Bucky promises to visit her sushi shop with Nat soon and she says a bottle of sake awaits him for a drinking game. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her that Nat and he share the same tolerance for alcohol.

He makes sure to leave George a tip. A big one. It’s the first time he sees the guy smile the entire evening.

He’s waving goodbye to Leah outside and he thinks that maybe it was a good end to the day and that things actually turned out fine.

Until he turns around to leave, only to have someone walk straight into him with an iced tea.

The cold comes as a bit of a shock, making him jump slightly. He stares at his shirt, using his fingertips to pull it away from his body.

The person melts into a series of apologies immediately, offering to dry clean his shirt but Bucky just forces a shake of his head and says it’s okay even though he can feel the sugar making the shirt stick to his chest. Goose feathers and iced tea. Was there anything else that would like to attach itself to him?

His fists clench and his teeth grit and he has to physically control himself from sprinting to your lair because God knows what else is in store for him and he didn't want to add in any way.

The door to the lair is locked. Fuckin’ brilliant.

When no one answers after minutes worth of waiting, he fishes for his phone and realises that maybe two hours of Fruit Ninja was not the best idea, especially on a phone known for having shitty battery life.

There’s roughly 2 percent left. By the time he opens his app to give you a call, his phone screen goes black.

He groans. He’s desperate at this point and under any other normal circumstances, he would have never, ever considered doing this.

But ten minutes later he’s outside your apartment building. You’re aware that he has your address; no doubt that it was in the SHIELD file he had gotten, and he knows that you know but it was still weird.

The buzzer has your last name listed next to it. He’s sure that he’ll break it if he keeps pressing it at this rate but he really needs you to let him in.

“Who the fu-” your voice comes through the intercom.

“I’m sorry for showing up like this, my phone died and I couldn’t reach you,” He breathes out as soon as he hears you. “But I need you to fix this.”

When he doesn’t hear a reply, he wonders if the thing actually worked. He’s about to start pressing it again-

“Bucky?” You sound a little surprised to hear him. “You’re at my house. Why are you at my house?”

“I need you to fix whatever this is.”

“What are you- fine, I’m buzzing you in,” your voice, initially confused soon trails off into something more dismissive.

There’s a soft click from the door, allowing him to push it open. The elevator is already on the same floor as him so he just uses that.

The elevator goes up a floor or two. His feet tap restlessly against the carpeted floor.

The lights turn off and everything comes to a standstill. His foot stops tapping.

He should have known. He should have fucking known.

Thirty seconds pass. He’s still in pitch darkness with the elevator showing no signs of moving.

In fact, he’s resigned to his fate. He sits down on the ground, only one step away from completely laying down and hoping someone finds his body here someday.

It’s six minutes of plain silence. He might as well get comfortable if he’s going to get stuck here for the rest of his life. Did he change his will? Does he even have a will?

There’s finally a whir. He thinks that maybe he’s going to plummet to his doom as the perfect end to this day, but then the light switches on and it starts moving upward.

It stops at the floor with a ding. He doesn’t get off the ground, only eyes the door wearily. With his luck, it wouldn’t open.

But it does and within a second he’s on his feet, scrambling to get out before it changes its mind.

He remembers your door number, basically charging down the hall to get to it.

The door is white and the paint is starting to chip off it. The handle itself is dented in a few places and he wonders if it was your fault or someone else's.

His knocks are rapid, agitated even. He doesn’t stop until he hears your loud shouts telling him to cut it out.

“What the hell were you doing, trying to break down my door?” It swings open, revealing you in your pajamas. “Haven’t you done that already? And where were you, I’ve been waiting for like, ten minutes.”

He honestly feels bad for showing up uninvited and highly flustered. He can’t imagine it’s a pretty sight either. "This bad luck shit- fix it. My whole day’s been fucked up.”

“What are you-” Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, taking in his appearance.

It takes you a second to realise what he’s talking about but when you do, your face settles.

“How was your date?” You lean against the door frame, arms crossed over your chest.

“Really,” He glowered at you, “that’s what you care about?”

“Yes.” You nod. “Did you have fun?”

He hesitates. “I guess?”

“Was she nice?”

“Yeah.” Where was this going.

“Good, I’m happy for you.” The smile on your face is genuine. “Look at you go, Casanova.”

“We agreed to be just friends, but that’s not the point here. Y/N,” he whines. “I have a mission next week, I can’t afford to fuck up. My whole day was off and I don’t want it to carry over.”

“Your whole day?” you questioned, standing up instead of leaning against the wall. “Buck-”

“Just fix it.”

“Okay.” You lift your hand up, extending it towards his face.

He waits for you to do something.

You flick him on the forehead.

“There,” you declare, going back to your previous position. “you’re cured.”

What.

He says exactly what he’s thinking.

You laugh. “Dude. I was fucking with you.”

Huh?

“Well, actually maybe just like, three things and then I got bored.”

He’s confused.

“You know,” you begin when he doesn’t reply, “taking the sugar packets, switching your coffee order when you were looking under the table, took your place when you left, the shoelaces.”

“The shoelaces?”

“Yeah.” You nod. “That’s the other ray gun you saw this morning. Unties your shoelaces. I stopped after that because I thought you figured it out.”

His face scrunches in puzzlement.

“I mean, you looked right at me and told me to cut it out.”

He racks his brain about what you could possibly be talking about before it hits him. The hungover person on the goddamn bench in the park.

“You were the one in the hoodie and sunglasses.”

“I just followed the Avengers’ code of disguise.” You shrug. “Turns out it kinda works. Also teleportation. So helpful.”

He forgot about the teleportation. That's why you could do all of it so fast without him noticing you were even there.

“What about the fucking geese?”

You pause for a second. “The geese?”

“And the elevator.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” The confusion on your face is apparent. “What geese and elevator? I have no idea what you’re saying right now.”

“Everything’s been a mess today,” he grumbles. “I don’t know what’s real or not.”

“I swear I had nothing to do with it other than what I mentioned.” There’s indignation on your features that quickly gives way to delight. “Holy shit, did I just accidentally invent portable bad luck?”

“Okay-” his palm finds its way to his forehead in exasperation, “-then what the hell was the smell?”

“What smell- oh, the one from the box?”

He nods briskly.

“Secretions Magnifique.” You snorted. “It’s a perfume. The worst rated one I could find.”

“Perfume?”

“With notes of milk, seaweed and sandalwood.”

“It wasn’t an inator?”

“No, it wasn- did you get vibe checked by a goose at the park?” You stifle a laugh when you notice a stray feather on his thigh.

“What does that even mean?” he asks in despair.

“I can see why it attacked you. You got bad juju.” You raise an eyebrow. “Maybe if you stop staring so much-”

“So I just have shit luck.” Is that a fucking relief or even worse?

“Well,” you begin but decide not to continue.

Even with all the irritability masking it, you could see that he genuinely was just not having a good time.

“Wait here a second.”

You leave him at the door. He shifts his balance and sighs, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. He still had to walk back to the Tower. Maybe he could grab a slice of pizza along the way since he skipped lunch.

“Okay, here.” You return with a large glass of water. He only looks at it. “It’s just water, I promise. You look like you ran a marathon."

He takes it from you sceptically, pushing away the urge to sniff at it. It’s gone within a few gulps.

You wait until he’s finished to point at his arm. He draws his eyebrows together, but you only curl your index finger and beckon for him to give you his hand.

He reluctantly extends it towards you.

“Don’t laugh,” you warn him, taking his metal arm. “This usually helps me.”

You tie a small bracelet around his wrist. It has a few beads, which he realises represent the colours of the solar system.

“Keep that for good luck.” You pat it gently after securing it. “I think you just had a bad day; those don’t last very long. Do you want to charge your phone before you leave?”

“Uh-” The bracelet’s pretty, the colours shine against the dark vibranium. “-no, I’m good. I’ll just leave.”

“Okay. Anything else I can help you with or will you be fine?”

He narrows his eyes. “You’re being suspiciously nice.”

“I’m not evil all the time.” You huff. “My hours are in the morning.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he says again. “I’m gonna go then.”

“See you next week.” You give him a little wave. “I’d say break a leg on your mission but knowing your situation...”

He scoffs. “Thanks.”

You make a move to close the door when starts walking down the hallway towards the exit.

He adjusts the beads slightly so he can see them better. The Earth one has glitter in it. He thinks it’s cute.

“Bucky.”

He turns around.

There’s a hint of a smile on your face.

“Take the stairs.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

Next part

[hecatemoon87]

Hard to Get - A Reggie Kray Story

Chapter Five - Brace for Impact

The day after Isla snubbed Reggie, he was in a very bad mood. He was yelling at everyone and criticizing how every little thing was being done. When Albert came up to Reggie and grimly handed him a piece of paper, he snatched it away.

“Alright then fuck off!” Reggie said, before he began to read it.

Albert came out of Reggie’s office and stood with the other gangsters.

“Why is it that any time Isla spends more than an hour with Reg, he loses his goddamn mind?” Albert complained.

Reggie re-read the letter for the third time and groaned. The Torture Gang had written a very threatening letter about taking the Krays out once and for all. Folding the letter in half he walked out to the front to converse with his men.

“This here,” Reggie said, holding the letter between his index and middle fingers. “Is a threat from our friends the Torture Gang. Now those fuckers and telling me they’re gonna end us. That ain’t going to happen, is it?”

The men shook their heads and grinned as they were always up for cracking some skulls.

The club was closed down during the week. It was only in operation Friday and Saturday nights. So the Krays used it freely for their operation, as long as the shades were pulled down. On Reggie’s order, the men began hauling out inventory of guns and ammunition. After each gun was inspected it was cleaned and then placed on the table next to its respective box of ammunition.

Isla had been given a task by Ronnie, well, actually by Reggie, but he wasn’t talking to her directly since her little game yesterday. She shrugged her shoulders when Ronnie gave the order. She was supposed to see Angelo Bruno before he returned to the states. There was some final documentation that Angelo had to provide to Reggie. Since he didn’t have time to get it himself, he sent Isla.

After having tea with the mobster, Isla made her way back to the club with the documents. As she entered she saw the men finalizing their inventory. Reggie and Ronnie stood beside their usual table during club hours. Instead of the table being filled with drinks and ashtrays, it was now covered with guns.

“What’s all this?” Isla asked.

“Just checkin’ inventory, the bloody Torture Gang made a fuckin’ threat. Making sure we are prepared, that’s all.” Ronnie said.

“Oh, do I get a gun then?” she asked, her fingers trailing over a handgun.

“No,” Reggie said, sternly.

“Why? You’ve given everyone else a gun.”

“Cause Reg thinks you’d shoot him,” Ronnie said, chuckling.

“Shut up, Ron.” Reggie said. “Isla, you don’t even know how to shoot a bloody gun.”

Isla frowned and decided to prove a point. She picked up the handgun in front of her, checked the barrel, there were two bullets, and spun it. Before anyone could stop her, Isla leveled the gun toward the bar and shot a shot glass clean off the end of it.

“Jesus!” Reggie shouted, startled by the gunshot.

Reggie immediately walked over and grabbed the gun from her, uncocking it and putting it back down on the table.

“Bloody hell! That was a great shot!” Albert said in awe. “That had to be at least forty feet!”

“Stay away from the guns,” He told Isla firmly.

“Yeah, Reg is definitely afraid you’re gonna shoot him,” Ronnie said, laughing once again.

That evening, Reggie broke the men into groups. Sending small bands around his part of town, making sure to clear out any Torture Gang members from the East End. He kept about fifteen of them at the club waiting in case any action arose. Isla was ordered to stay at the club as Reggie secretly was worried that the Torture Gang knew she worked for him. He was uncertain if she would be safe at home. But he didn’t tell her that.

“Oh my god, this is ridiculous,” Isla said annoyed. “We’ve been here for five hours, what makes you think they will act tonight?”

“If I know that lot well enough, they will,” Reggie said. “Sit down and be quiet.”

“No, I’m going home. I’m so sick of being in this building!” she said, standing up and grabbing her purse.

“I said, sit down!” Reggie said through clenched teeth.

Isla rolled her eyes and tried to walk toward the exit. Reggie snuffed out his cigarette and walked up, taking her by the arm roughly. Once again, Ronnie, Albert and the others watched him drag her off into his office.

“You think he’s gonna rough her up this time?” A random gangster asked aloud.

Reggie pushed open his office door, man handling her through the doorway.

“Stay here!” He demanded, pointing a finger toward the couch.

Isla stared at him in disbelief. “Did you just tell me to stay like a bloody dog!”

The two stared each other down, a tense silence settling between them. It was end game. One of them would need to yield, allowing the other to finally claim dominance. Then, as if a magnetic force drew them in, they collided into one another’s arms. In a whirlwind of passion, they enveloped each other completely.

Now trapped in a hungry kiss their hands moved frantically over the other’s body. The desperation to undress the other was overpowering. The carnal desire to press flesh against flesh gnawed at their senses, pushing out all other prior emotions.

Moans of pleasure were muffled as they ravenously intertwined their tongues. The dam that had held back their pent up sexual frustration broke forth in a flood of chaotic lust. The two mad lovers pushed and pulled each other, moving across the room in an uncoordinated dance. Isla pushed Reggie up against the bookcase and it toppled over with a loud crash, books scattering everywhere.

Meanwhile, from outside the office, the others heard the loud crash. Albert walked up to the door and turned toward Ronnie.

“You think she’s okay?” Albert asked.

When a loud female orgasmic cry came from the other side of the door, Ronnie simply nodded.

“Yeah, I’d say she’s more than okay.”

Inside the office, Reggie moved her back across the floor, pressing her up against the wall near a file cabinet. The impact wobbled the cabinet and dashed several folders of documents onto the floor. In their frenzy all of it was ignored. Clothing now piled onto the floor along with the books and documents.

Breaking the kiss, only to move his mouth over Isla’s right nipple as she arched her back for him to take her in. As he nursed her, his other hand massaged her left nipple, sending Isla into spasms of pleasure.

“You fucking English bastard,” she gasped.

“Scottish bitch,” Reggie groaned as her fingers danced across his cock.

They were both naked now. Reggie’s muscular frame a sight to behold. A God in his own right. He held Isla in his strong arms, muscles bulging as he kissed her neck, dragging his tongue up to her jawline. Reggie then guided her across the floor over to his desk, their lips still locked. He broke the kiss once again and brushed everything off the surface and eased her to the top of it.

Isla wrapped her legs around him and they continued to kiss manically. She could feel Reggie’s cock pressing against her folds, the head of it finding its way into her opening. He plunged into her and he lifted her up off the desk, his hips pushing up to stay inside her. His cock stretched her open and she felt like her pussy was about to burst. She couldn’t help but mewl and cry from the intensity of the sensation of his cock finally being inside her.

She whispered over his lips. “You’re so big.”

He growled and flexed himself, his cock giving Isla some delicious added volume. Taking her over to the couch, he briefly pulled out in order to place her on her back. Then once again filled her core. It took a good amount of willpower to keep himself from exploding inside her sweet pussy. His taut buttocks clenched as he rammed her hard.

“You’ve been a very bad girl, Isla,” Reggie said, his breathing labored.

“I know, I need to be punished. Go on then, give it to me, gangster,” she teased him.

Reggie jackhammered Isla’s little cunt again and again until one of the couch legs broke sending them both to the floor. The lovers tumbled to the ground, but Isla did not miss a beat. As Reggie rolled onto his back she mounted him, her pussy consuming his cock from above and she began to ride him vigorously.

“Fuck…,” Reggie gasped.

Looking up at her, he watched her breasts bounce.

His fingers bit into her hips, but only to cause euphoria rather than pain. Isla vocalized every little pleasurable sensation that entered her body. With her eyes closed she gave it to Reggie good. Poor Reggie could no longer hold and began to climax.

“Damn it, Isla!” Reggie moaned loudly.

His brow knitted and his eyes closed. She looked down to watch his lush lips part as he orgasmed. It was the sexiest thing that Isla had ever seen. Once he was done, she climbed off him and fell onto the floor, resting on her back. The two of them lie on the floor, with their feet parallel to the other’s head.

They both looked up at the ceiling, collecting themselves. The chaos that had unfolded had left the room in a shambles. Books, documents, and clothes cluttered the floor.

“Now can I have a gun?” she asked.

“No,” Reggie replied.

[memxntomxri]

𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚕𝚎

𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝟮 | 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 | 𝗵𝗼𝗺𝗲

𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 - bisexual!hinata shouyou x gn!reader, hinata shouyou x miya atsumu

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 - angst, break up

𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤 - hinata shouyou is trustworthy - with everything except for your heart

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 - 2.4k words

𝘵𝘸 - slightly descriptive nsfw?, cheating (i'm sorry to be doing my children hinata and atsumu dirty this way but this got stuck in my head 😭), major angst, break-up, no happy ending, lots and lots of crying, lots and lots of reader's internal thoughts, atsumu is an asshole

𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴 - this is the result of brainrot i had stuck in my head after reading chapter 18 of SabbyWrites' A Study in Depravity. HAIKYUU BOYS ARE NOT CHEATERS - I REPEAT, HAIKYUU BOYS ARE NOT CHEATERS. BISEXUAL PEOPLE ARE ALSO NOT CHEATERS. i just couldn't resist writing this lmao

also, i'm doing my best to make this a gender-neutral reader, but it might lean more towards AFAB/non-binary readers since i'm both ashelkgjkdlkjf male-identifying readers i'm sorry

thanks @meiansmistress, lou (LouEve_094 on ao3), lena, and emmy (Noisy_Emmy on ao3) for betaing! your feedback helped me a lot

𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙙𝙣𝙞 - there are some descriptive scenes of smut in here 👀 shoo, shoo

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Hinata Shouyou is trustworthy.

You know this.

It's the reason you met, after all.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

The summer you moved to Miyagi, following your father's dream of teaching in a little town similar to the one he lived in as a child, you were unhappy. Who could blame you, after all? You had a comfortable life back in Osaka, and unlike your father, you were a city dweller at heart. It was also the middle of your first year of high school—who wanted to transfer schools, let alone across prefectures, in the middle of a school year?

It was hot in Miyagi, and when the moving truck broke down on the side of the road, the entire family piled out and sat on the curb. Just your father (who you were still mad at), your mother, and you. That was what it had always been. Sure, you had friends, but somehow the friendships never got too deep. You were willing to bet that within a month, there would be no texts other than the occasional New Year's greeting or "happy birthday" from your so-called friends back in Osaka.

And don't even get you started on romantic relationships. It wasn't that you weren't attractive, or that you weren't easy to get along with—it was just that there was never anybody. Yes, you had liked people before, but nothing had ever come of it.

Your mother piped up, saving you from your dark thoughts about the state of your relationships with other people. "Y/n, love, can you go back down the hill again? I think we saw a konbini a bit that way, please buy some cool drinks." she says, depositing coins in your outstretched hand. Oh well, something to do, you supposed.

You strolled casually down the road, sweating buckets. When you pushed open the doors of the konbini—Sakanoshita Store, you noted, it definitely didn’t look like a konbini—opened, you basked in the cold air of the air conditioner for a bit. As you stood there, looking a bit dumb with your arms outstretched, you felt a weight barrel into you from behind.

With a bang, you fell forward, the weight landing on your back. "Ow!" you cried, rubbing your right wrist, which had unceremoniously made contact with the ground, pain shooting up the limb. You twisted around to glare at whatever had so unceremoniously bowled you over. You were met with the sight of wide, brown eyes and flushed cheeks. "Sorry!" the boy squeaked, getting off of you quickly. "So sorry!" You frowned and got up.

"Watch where you’re going, okay?" You were a few centimeters taller than him, you noted.

He started blabbering, talking about how he needed to get the first-aid kit because a "Stingyshima" had "accidentally" ran into "Bakageyama" and this "Bakageyama" now had a bleeding knee and that he was the fastest runner in their volleyball club (he was strangely emphatic about this point). By the time he was finished rambling, you were chuckling slightly. It was obvious that he hadn't meant anything by running into you, and it was actually kind of endearing how earnestly he was trying to explain himself.

You held up a hand, stopping him from continuing to ramble. "Y-you aren't mad, right?" he asked anxiously. You smiled and shook your head slightly. "It seems your team trusts you to help take care of your friend, so why don't you grab the first-aid kit and go help him?" You suggested gently.

He nodded quickly and darted behind the counter, grabbing a white box. As he jogged away, he seemed to remember something and turned around to holler at you. "My name's Hinata Shouyou! I'm a first year!" he introduced himself in a bright voice.

Just inside the konbini, a small smile slipped across your face.

Hinata Shouyou, huh. He seemed nice.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Hinata Shouyou is trustworthy.

It's the reason you fell in love with him.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

The first day of school, you meet Hinata Shouyou again. And again. And again. He somehow seems to pop up everywhere you go—not that you're complaining, he's entertaining and nice—and soon, you think you can count yourself as his friend.

You go to his game against Aoba Johsai, then Shiratorizawa, then you're hugging him as he jumps up and down, celebrating their win. That’s the first time your heart jumps when you look at him, haloed by the lights of the gym.

Slowly, you feel yourself falling in love with him. Not just falling for him, no, because Hinata Shouyou will not let anyone do anything in halves, especially not falling in love. Shouyou, to you, (because by then you were on first-name basis) is someone you can rely on, someone that is always there, like the sun, trustworthy.

And because he is always there, it's also easy to confess to him in your second year. You know him well enough by now to know that even if he doesn't feel the same, nothing would change about your friendship except for the addition of unspoken words. And you think that he might love you back, if the lingering glances and brighter smiles are any indication.

Your guess is right, and by New Year's break, the two of you are a happy couple.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Hinata Shouyou is trustworthy.

It's why you let him go, if only for a little bit.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

When Shouyou left for Brazil, you took a break from each other. To be honest, it was your idea.

It wasn't that you didn't think that you couldn't trust him ten thousand kilometers away—it was that you knew you would hold him back. He was going to Brazil to chase his dream, and having a tether to his hometown would only slow him down. It hurt, having to say goodbye at the airport, but somehow the two of you got through it.

You still talked—a little more than "just friends" should—but you were careful not to let him think that you were together.

Shouyou was meant for greater things, and back then, as an insecure, just-barely-adult going into medical school, you weren't sure if you fit into the picture.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Hinata Shouyou is trustworthy.

It's the reason why you let him back in.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

When Shouyou returns from Brazil, the first person he visits is you. You, all the way out in Osaka, pushing yourself to your limits as you study for med school. When you open your door and see him standing there, smiling as bright as ever, you fall into his arms—both literally and metaphorically. It turns out, even two years later, you trust him to catch you.

It was all too natural for you and Shouyou to get back together, and by a stroke of luck, he joins the MSBY Black Jackals, right there in Osaka. You move in together, his slightly larger salary allowing the two of you to rent a bigger apartment.

Yes, it's hard work being in a relationship again, but you like having Shouyou to return to every night after your shift is over. You wake up early every morning to make the two of you breakfast and lunch, and Shouyou always has dinner waiting for you when you step back in the door, often also staying up so that you can talk.

You're content.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Hinata Shouyou is trustworthy.

It's the reason why you think nothing of his closeness with his teammates.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Shouyou has always been a people-magnet. Even back in high school, everyone loved him. Shouyou is bisexual. You know this. He’s always had more than enough love to give back, too, and his bisexuality had never impacted your relationship. Why should it, when you’re every bit as queer as him? Your relationship was strong, and you believed in it. That's why, at every team dinner that he takes you to, when someone else inevitably takes the seats next to him instead of you and you're relegated to a corner, you don't worry about it. Shouyou loves you, and it doesn't matter where you sit for a couple of hours.

Yes, Miya Atsumu is a bit aggressive whenever Shouyou compliments him, throwing a smirk over his shoulder at you triumphantly, but you chalk it to them being good friends and Miya-san wanting to get to know you better by having a little friendly competition, and that's okay.

Yes, Shouyou starts going out with his team more and more, but they're his team. He's supposed to be close with them.

Yes, you start to feel a little neglected, but it wasn't as if you were the most attentive back when you were still struggling through med school.

And anyways, Shouyou always makes time for the two of you on Saturdays, your designated date nights. You have trust in your relationship, in its rock-tight foundation built upon years of knowing each other.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Hinata Shouyou is trustworthy.

It's why you believe his words.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

One Friday, after an especially busy shift at the hospital that got cut short for you when a coworker unexpectedly came in to fill in for you, you decide to head home early and get some rest, maybe cuddle with Shouyou while watching those romcoms you both enjoy.

You had told him that you'd be home late that night, and you hoped that you could surprise him with some dinner. So, you swung by his favorite yakitori place and ordered dinner, driving home as fast as you safely could.

As you open the door to your apartment, you hear the distinctive sounds of sex, skin slapping on skin, grunts and moans, high keens. You frown. Maybe Shouyou was watching porn? He sometimes liked to get himself ready (the two of you enjoyed the occasional pegging) before you got home. You drop the food on the kitchen table and put your jacket on the hook.

"Love, I'm home!" you call out softly. No response.

Frowning deeper now, you move towards the bedroom door. Just as you're about to open it, you hear something that stops you cold.

"A-ah, Atsumu!" It's distinctively Shouyou's voice, and suddenly, you can't move anymore.

Shouyou, who told you you could make it through med school.

Shouyou, who made you yakisoba and miso soup whenever you were stuck studying.

Shouyou, who whispered sweet nothings in your ear every morning as the two of you made breakfast.

Shouyou, who is currently in bed with Miya fucking Atsumu.

You want to get up, you want to slam open the door, you want to demand answers, but somehow, you can't get your legs to budge from the spot in the ground they've rooted themselves to.

Then,

"Who do you love, Sho?" Atsumu growls.

Your heart skips a beat.

No.

No.

You pray to all the gods you know that what's about to pass Shouyou's lips will miraculously stay trapped in his throat, but it seems like the gods don't feel kind today.

"Y-you, Atsumu, you!" you hear Shouyou cry.

Your heart shatters into a million little kaleidoscopic pieces. Tears start running down your face, hot, involuntary, painful, because they represent the six years of a beautiful relationship down the drain, because nothing will ever be the same, because Shouyou is cheating on you.

Finally, your legs decide to move again. It seems like someone else is controlling your body as you walk towards the door, opening it with a shaking hand.

Shouyou is pinned down by Miya-san on the bed, legs thrown over his shoulder, as he slams into him.

The door bangs against the wall.

Shouyou looks up, and when he sees you, his face floods with guilt.

You don't say anything. You just stand there, tears flooding down your face, betrayal evident in your expression.

"Y-y/n!" he says. "I-I- I swear, this isn't-" he begins.

You cut him off. "I don't want to hear it, Shouyou." you spit.

Miya-san chuckles. "Who are we kidding, this is exactly what they think it is. What, did you think that you would be enough to satisfy Sho? You, with your infinitely busy schedule? You, who has no clue about volleyball?" he says, cutting into you.

"Atsumu, stop!" Shouyou says, frantic. He can tell that he's going to lose you, but he's not going to go down without a fight. "Babe, I love you, please-" he says, getting out of Miya-san's embrace and moving towards you. You sidestep him, holding a duffel bag with a change of clothes.

You stand there, looking at the scene, chuckling darkly inside your head. Just a scorned lover, a man, and his side-piece. You take a deep breath.

"You know, Shouyou, if you fell in love with someone else, you should've just told me. I trust you to be honest. I'm leaving—because even though you might love me, you're in love with Miya-san." you said.

Shouyou looks stricken with guilt, but you know it's from lying, not because he loves you anymore. Your laugh is broken and rough on the ears. "You think I didn't hear you? Oh, Shouyou, I heard more than enough. Have a nice life, and I hope that you remember how you broke me. I hope it fucking haunts you to the day of your death," you hurl at him.

Because even though at that moment you're screaming at him, you know that you still love him, that you’ll always will love him, and that you will carry this scar for the rest of your life. And even though you love him enough to leave now, to let him be with the person he loves—you still have enough love for yourself to hope that he bears some of the weight of this horrible, messy end too.

And with that, you walk out the door.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

But you're wrong.

Hinata Shouyou might love Miya Atsumu, but he still loves you more.

Years later, looking back, he comprehends that he didn't just break you. As he stares at his empty apartment, devoid of a lover—because what you said was true, he still carries the guilt, the memory of your tear-stained face, the recollections of your golden time together that ruined any relationship he might have had before it started, the echo of your absolute trust in him,

—Hinata Shouyou realizes he ruined himself too.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

© ʙᴇᴛʜᴇʏᴅᴏᴄʀɪᴍᴇᴡʀɪᴛᴇꜱ 2021 - ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴄʀᴇᴅɪᴛ

[alpacaparkaseok]

The Pact - Date #7

Pairing/Genre: OT7 BTS x reader (not poly), idol!BTS, best friend BTS

Word Count: 7.2k

Premise: The truth about the pact the boys have about you has been revealed. What happens when you agree to go on a single date with each of them?

Warnings: a bit of talking down on yourself, the confusion continues, general fluff with a touch of angst 

a/n: this is the final date. guys...how is this going by so fast?? please let me know your thoughts on the date, on everything else overall...and I’ll see you soon? Next Saturday is the finale!

Date #7

series masterlist ∆∆∆ join the taglist

Note from the creator of this stupid idea:

I loved her first.

 “Who do you think it was? Any ideas?”

           “I…” you shrug. “No?”

           Gina arches a brow, staring you down from across your kitchen table. “So, that was a lie.”

           You can’t stop the laugh that bubbles up from your chest, Gina also chuckling. It’s a relief, the fact that she doesn’t hesitate to call you out. You’re grateful that you finagled her number from Jin, shooting him a text that looked a lot like this:

Me: Burn this after reading

Me: We can’t have any evidence !!

Kim Seokjinnie: ok, hi. I’m not burning my phone weirdo. I’ll just keep it away from Jungkook. What’s up??

Me: Hi. You know what I meant.

Me: Can you give me Gina’s number?

Kim Seokjinnie: Sure, I’ll send you the contact in a second. You two gonna hang out or something?

Me: Hopefully…do you think it’s weird if I just ask her out of the blue? Will she not wanna come?

Kim Seokjinnie: Nah, she’s pretty chill. I bet she’ll come

Kim Seokjinnie: *Kim Seokjinnie shared a contact with you*

Kim Seokjinnie: do you need anything before I burn my phone?

Me: no, thank you!! I owe you one. I’m short on friends rn, hopefully she’ll come over

Kim Seokjinnie: I’m sorry  miss you. We’ll all get to hang out once this is all over, I promise.

“Yah! I really don’t know. I mean they’ve all be so…”

“So what?”

You sigh, sounding like some kid in a dreamy teen movie. “Perfect?”

“There’s no such thing,” Gina huffs, leaning back in her chair. It’s a bit rickety, you’d found it at a yard sale with Namjoon and Jimin. You had just moved into your apartment, and realized that you were a little low on furniture. Together, you’d managed to find three mismatching chairs that made you grin each time you saw them.

It was a little odd at the time, you didn’t want to buy three chairs. Two seemed like plenty. They convinced you though, and looking back you understand why they were so adamant.

Wasn’t it rule #3? “Limit one-on-one interaction”? Three chairs made it so that there was always space for at least two of them.

Suddenly you look at the most average things in your house with different eyes.

Groaning, you rub your hands over your face. You’ve probably smudged your makeup, but you don’t care. It’s Friday night, you can do whatever you want.

“Unfortunately, I really think that there might be.” You let out a dry chuckle. “Seven dates with the world’s most perfect men. I knew I was screwed from the beginning, but this, I mean, I didn’t expect it to go this far.”

“On the bright side, you only have one more to go.” Gina gets up, stretching before moving to put her plate in the sink. She’d picked up some takeout on her way to your house, proving to you that you two are going to be friends for a long, long time.

“I’m terrified because of that. What happens after tomorrow’s date? I know it’s up to me, but I feel like I’m waiting for someone to come tell me the next step.”

Gina hums in agreement, shooting you an apologetic look. “Maybe I shouldn’t have pointed out how flirty they were at the haunted house. You never would have gotten into this mess.”

“No,” you wave her off. “It’s not your fault. Jungkook let it slip anyway, after the door closed on us in the basement. Ugh, I still get freaked out thinking about that. Has that happened since?”

Gina pauses over the sink, back turned to you as she runs her plate under the hot water. After a moment she shuts it off, turning around to wipe her hands off on a dish towel before leaning up against the counter.

“Erm…”

Your stomach drops. “What.”

“It’s just…” she crosses her arms and uncrosses them, unsure of what to do with her hands. “The door is connected to a little button on every employee’s key fob. You know, just for some extra scare factor.”

You meet her sheepish gaze with a blank stare. “So you’re telling me…”

“It’s just a part of the tour,” Gina shrugs. “Wait, what happened? He told you about the pact when the door closed? That’s…that’s honestly not the most romantic setting-”

“No no, we had a little moment after the door closed, and we almost kissed. But he stopped himself and said the I didn’t have to worry about him making a move. When we got out, I asked him why, and that’s when he mentioned the pact.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah.”

“So tomorrow is the last date, correct?”

           “Yup.”

           “Look,” Gina notices your worried expression. “Do yourself a favor. Let go. Don’t waste tomorrow thinking about what’s gonna happen next. Focus on the moment, ok? Then how about we get together next week sometime to talk everything over? If you feel like that might help, that is.”

           You definitely made the right choice in inviting Gina over. You can already feel your stress levels going down.

           “Ok.”

           You’re up early the next morning, earlier than you’d like. You’re not sure how long you’ve been sitting on your sofa, basking in the golden morning sun and watching the little dust motes float in the air, but it’s certainly been a while.

           For once, it’s quiet in your mind. You’re not sure why now, why today. There’s no doubt you’ll be your typical bumbling mess once Yoongi picks you up, but for now all is peaceful.

           It’s the last date. Somehow, despite how much you’ve enjoyed these little escapades, you feel relief at the thought. Knowing that you’ve made it nearly to the end without doing anything remarkably stupid (you’re still mortified that you and Jimin got kicked out of that basilica but oh well), and now you’re so close.  

           For now, you slide your worries under the rug, to be left there for the weekend. You curl your legs under you and lean your head back against the cushions to drink in the sunlight. It warms your skin, leaving you feeling even better than before.

           Yoongi is supposed to be here around four. Jungkook had sent you a quick text earlier in the week checking that you didn’t have any plans for Saturday afternoon and night. You didn’t bother to tell him that you always had all day open for them.

           While the exchange had been short, you couldn’t help but wonder if he was blushing just as much as you when his contact popped up on your screen. In an instant you were plunged into the memory of clinging to him just outside your front door, Jungkook’s shaky breaths the only thing keeping you planted in reality.

           Either way, it was safe to say that you were a blushing mess despite the simplicity of the text. He kept it strictly professional, not once alluding to the events of last Saturday. But you could still hear those words he uttered when he asked if you ever thought about what might have happened if he’d kissed you in the haunted house when he had the chance.

           “I do. Every day.”

           Of course you thought about it. You let out an amused huff on the couch, laughing to yourself. Who wouldn’t? But the only thing was the fact that you were thinking about a lot of things. Not just Jungkook.

           Or his lips, for that matter.

           The couch rustles as you get up, deciding to change out of your red sweatshirt for a green one. You’d been instructed to dress warm, which made you wonder what was planned for today. Outside everything looks warm and pleasant, certainly no need for anything too heavy.

           By the time afternoon rolls around, you’re tempted to call up Gina for a late lunch or something. To say you’re antsy is an understatement; you’re positively losing it. The clock on the wall has decided to try its hand at stopping time altogether, and you think it’s doing a pretty good job of it. Every time you glace over, seemingly no time has passed.

           This time, you really start to wonder if no time has passed. You swear it’s been stuck at 3 o’clock for a while-

           The sound of someone knocking on your door has you nearly tipping over from where you perch trying to grab the clock.

           For some stupid reason, you’re frozen to your spot at the far end of your living room. Holding the clock in your hands, you jump a little as a second tentative knock sounds.

           To your utter mortification, your mouth opens and you yell out, “Come in!”

           You’re still frozen in place when the door opens and Yoongi pokes his head in. His eyes immediately land on you, a sheepish smile that he has a hard time containing immediately breaking out.

           “You’re not planning on throwing that at me, right?” He asks, making you glare down at the clock you cling to.

           “Oh.” Your knuckles have turned white, and somehow your heart has decided to try its hand at sprinting a marathon. “No. I- it’s broken. I think.”

           Yoongi shuffles inside, closing the door gently behind him before wandering over to you. His pale complexion makes the pink on his cheeks easy to spot. Somehow the fact that he’s blushing makes you blush.

           “Do you have batteries around here?” He asks quietly, hiding his amusement.

           “Maybe in the kitchen?” You brush past him, handing off the clock. “Would you mind getting the old batteries out?”

           He mumbles out a sure, plopping down on your sofa while he gets to work on the clock. He’s wearing a similar outfit to you, which makes you smile. It’s not very often these days that he sports a bandana and you wonder if he somehow knew that you love the way he looks in it. His hair looks particularly fluffy as it kisses his forehead, the dark bandana giving him an air of coolness you know you could never pull off.

           Rummaging around your kitchen drawers, you pause when you realize what you’re doing. Are you stalling? What’s the rush to fix a clock when you have Min Yoongi in the other room waiting to take you out?

           Closing the drawer, you take a deep breath and shake your head.

           “Sorry Yoongi,” you call out, trudging back into the living room. “I’m an idiot.”

           He looks at you over his shoulder, a smirk tugging at his lips. “What’s your reasoning?”

           “Ouch.”

           Yoongi chuckles, setting the clock down on the coffee table before getting to his feet. “Wow, is it just me or…”

           You wince. “This got off to a bad start, huh.”

           “Yeah.”

           Looking at each other from across the room, you realize just how much you’ve missed him. His witty sarcastic remarks, his honesty.

           Him.

           “Can we start over? Go knock on the door again.”

           Yoongi’s already on his way, huffing out a laugh as he steps outside. “Alright, see you in a second.” The door clicks shut behind him, and you’re suddenly left with the silence of your house.

           As Yoongi timidly knocks on the door, the same sense of calm you experienced this morning settles over you.

           The seventh date. No more guessing who’s on the other side of the door, no more anxious glances in the mirror to check that everything looks flawless. It’s just you, Yoongi, and the door between you.

           There’s already a smile on your face as you open that door, finding Yoongi standing with his hands in his pocket. He returns your grin, feeling like a fellow conspirator in a heist that has yet to be planned.

           “I’m here,” he announces, then adds with a chuckle, “finally.”

           “Took you long enough,” you tease, reaching out to grab his jacket and pull him inside. He feigns a horrified expression at your flirty nature, but you just roll your eyes. You’re not sure who wraps their arms around the other first, but the next thing you know, you’re wrapped up in a tight embrace.

           I missed you, is what you want to say, but the words get caught in your throat. The lump that’s formed there only grows thicker with emotion as Yoongi’s gravelly voice rumbles against your hair.

           “How’re you holding up?”

           Your arms fall around his waist, ever aware of his shoulder. Even though he says he’s completely healed now, you aren’t taking any chances. It’s quiet for a long moment as you struggle to find an answer.

           “I…fine. I’m fine.” You pull away and arch an eyebrow at him, pleased to see that is cheeks are still rosy despite the serious look in his eye. “How are you holding up?”

           He lets out a breathy laugh, dropping your gaze. “Fine.” Then, when he catches your disbelieving stare, he states as innocently as possible, “What? Aren’t we lying to each other tonight?”

           “You suck.”

           “See!” He exclaims as you step out of his grasp to grab your things. “You always do that when you’ve been caught in a lie!”

           “Ugh, yah! I wasn’t lying,” you turn around to face him, walking backward toward your room. “I’m fine, really.”

           He shrugs. “And so am I.”

           You stifle your laughter as you enter your room, grabbing your things and wondering if you should grab a coat. “Do I really need a coat?” You call down the hall.

           “Yes!”

           Pursing your lips, you snatch the puffy monstrosity from your closet before turning to head out. Double checking that you have everything you need; your eyes can’t help but glance at the item sitting atop your dresser.

           You stick your tongue out at it. A few seconds later it’s tucked safely away in your top drawer and you’re heading out into the hallway. Your stomach does an uneasy flip as you recall the words that are practically burned in the backs of your eyelids now.

           I loved her first.

           Yoongi gets up from off the couch, waiting for you beside the door. His dark eyes survey you as you walk toward him. “Good to go?” He asks quietly. Clutching your coat a little tighter to your chest, you nod.

           The two of you head out, locking up your apartment and settling in the car that Yoongi drove over. Before long, you’re out on the highway, speeding toward your destination.

           Which, you’ve just realized, is still a mystery to you.

           “Sooo…” You begin, smiling lazily at Yoongi. You take a moment to admire his hands that are wrapped around the steering wheel. “Where are we going?”

           A smile tugs at his lips, but he manages to contain it as he adopts a serious expression. He glances over at you. “We’re going to see the sea.”

           “We’re…” you stutter, furrowing your brows. “We’re going to see the sea?”

           A breathy chuckle escapes him. “Yeah. But it’s a long drive, so are you down to listen to a murder-mystery with me?”

           “YES.”

            You’re still pretty sure that it was the nosy maid that did it by the time you arrive at your destination. Two hours, one murder-mystery short audiobook, and several snacks later, the sun is well on its way to the horizon when Yoongi pulls off to a sandy parking lot filled to the brim with cars.

           There’s tons of people mulling about, several of them appear to be young families who smile fondly as their children laugh and play in the sand. There’s a couple of food-trucks that have popped up on the beach, which sport long lines. Yoongi observes them woefully, seeming to come to some sort of understanding with himself before moving to get out of the car.

           “Woah, what’s with all the people? Is this beach always this busy?”

           It’s a beach you’ve never been to before, the pristine sand glowing as the sun makes its way across the sky.

           “Today’s a special occasion,” Yoongi explains, popping the trunk and rummaging around. “We should probably pick out a spot now before all the good ones are taken.”

           You come around to the back of the car to meet him, taking the blanket he extends out to you. Leaving your big coat in the backseat, you hope he doesn’t scold you and tell you to put it on. Right now it’s windy, but fairly warm. No need to look like a living marshmallow just yet.

           Before you can inquire after what the special occasion is, Yoongi passes you a couple of water bottles and begins rattling off instructions.

           “How about I jump in line to buy us some dinner,” the way he says it so casually has your heart skipping a beat for some reason, “and you head down the beach to scout out a decent spot?”

           “But what kind of spot do you mean? Is there a show or something?”

           Yoongi pauses, closing the trunk and running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, something like that. A show. Just find a spot that you like, I’ll come find you with our food, ok?”

           “Ay ay, captain.” You trudge away, hoisting the blanket up higher in your arms as you begin to look for an empty space. The immediate surrounding beach area appears to be pretty packed, which has you marching farther and farther away from the parking lot.

           You grin as a couple of children race past you, giggling as they fly their kites. It’s looks like it’s a little boy and with his younger sister, trying their best to keep their kites afloat in wind. Waving at them, your smile only grows as the boy sheepishly turns away and the girl cheerfully waves back.

           It feels like you walk for years before finding a clearing. You were definitely looking for a semi-secluded spot, not too keen on spending your long-awaited date with Yoongi surrounded by strangers. It doesn’t even occur to you to ask someone what the big deal is about today before you’re laying the blanket out. Not wanting to leave anything unattended just for it to blow away, you decide to just be patient until Yoongi finds you.

           The sand is warm beneath the blanket as you plop down, resting with your face turned toward the sun as you let out a content sigh. Despite the chill of the wind, the sun warms you right up.

           “Why are you alone?”

           Peeking one eye open at the little voice, you’re delighted to see the same little girl from earlier standing a little ways away. She watches you with a meek expression, her kite forgotten at her feet.

           “Oh, I’m not alone,” you explain. “I’m just waiting for my friend to come find me. He went to go get food.”

           “Oh.” The young girl shuffles her feet. “My mommy says that I need to get all my wiggles out before the show.”

           You chuckle. “Really? What show are we watching tonight? Is it Disney?” That would certainly make sense for all of the young families here tonight. Did Yoongi bring you to a beach-front outdoor movie?

           “No, silly!” The girl giggles at your questions. “The sky’s coming to say hello!”

           “What?”

           “That’s what my mommy said. She said, ‘Young-mi get your wiggles out, the sky is coming to say hello soon!’”

           You blink, a little amused by Young-mi’s earnest response. “I see…I didn’t know that the sky was coming to say hello tonight.”

           “Then why are you here?”

           “Oh,” you crane your neck toward the parking lot, but it’s too far away to see Yoongi. “My friend brought me, as a surprise.”

           “Wow,” Young-mi utters in a reverent tone. “Can I meet your friend?”

           “I don’t see why not.”

           With a gleeful shout, Young-mi takes off running, her kite skipping along the ground behind her. She runs toward her family, her mother grinning at the sight before reaching out to pull her into her arms. You watch on with a forgotten smile, wondering for a split second what that would be like.

           If you squint, that could be Yoongi sitting beside Young-mi’s mother, throwing his head back with laughter at something his daughter says to him. Their son crouches in the sand nearby, digging around as though searching for gold.

           Laying down with a soft sigh, you close your eyes and let the little daydream take over. Here, at the beach. Telling your children that this is where you had your first date; laughing as they make disgusted faces when Yoongi plants a loud kiss on your cheek-

           “Did the nosy maid get to you?”

           Yoongi stands above you with arms laden with food. He blocks out the sun, the rays coming around to make him appear like an angel. Judging from the delicious smells radiating from the food he carries, you think he actually might be.

           “Ah, so you agree that you think it was her that murdered Duke Rittington?” Your voice sounds a little croaky, a testament to the fact that you were just dozing a moment ago. Leaning up to ease some of the food from his arms, Yoongi snorts.

           “No. It was obviously the son. Why can’t you see it?”

           Rolling your eyes, you pat a spot next to you on the blankets. Yoongi takes the seat without hesitation. “Because, the son seems like too easy of a suspect. Whereas the maid-”

           The screams of Young-mi as she rushes toward you cut you off. “You have a boyfriend?!”

           “Oh, no.”

           Yoongi leans over, still busy arranging the bags of food – is that a cheeseburger you see? – around the blanket. “Who’s that?” He mumbles.

           “I, uh, made a friend while you were grabbing food,” you explain with a small smile.

           Now Young-mi reaches your blanket, dropping to her knees as she gazes up at Yoongi with wide, innocent eyes. “Hi, my name is Young-mi and I’m four years old. I’m the second tallest in my class.” Young-mi prattles off information, her large eyes never once leaving Yoongi’s face. “Are you her boyfriend? I hope you’re her boyfriend.”

           Yoongi lets out a startled laugh. “You do? Why’s that?”

           “You’re so pretty.”

           Now both of you burst out laughing, Young-mi looking utterly confused at your outburst. Yoongi covers his face with his hands, shaking his head.

           “What? What’s so funny?” Young-mi questions.

           You grin at her. “You think he’s pretty?” The little girl nods enthusiastically. “I do too.”

           Yoongi peers over at you at this comment, an unasked question in his eyes. The pink in his cheeks has intensified, as has your own blush.

           “Aren’t I supposed to be the one complementing you?” He asks under his breath. You shrug.

           “You brought food, so now we’re even.”

           Young-mi lingers a little while longer, asking a few questions and drawing in the sand. Munching down on your cheeseburger, you eye Young-mi’s kite.

           “Do you mind if I try to fly your kite for a second?” The question is out of your mouth before you can fully process it, but Young-mi looks up at you excitedly.

           “Yes!!” She squeals, immediately dragging the little handle over to you. “You have to run really fast, that’s what my mommy told me. Then it’ll fly!”

           Glancing back at Yoongi as you clamber to your feet, you don’t miss the fond smile he wears as he watches the interaction take place. You wave at him, heading off down the beach with Young-mi. Once you’ve walked far enough, you wink down at her.

           “Ok, you run on ahead and I’ll catch up in a few seconds.”

           The girl wastes no time running off, her laughter making you feel lighter than you have in weeks. Once she’s far enough off, you take off after her. She heads straight toward her family, who smile at you as you attempt to get the kite off the ground.

           Sand flies up behind you as you race, and you catch a glimpse of Yoongi with his phone out, recording you with a wide smile on his face. The sun has hit the horizon now, a dizzying array of colors sending your mind into a joyful frenzy. Up ahead, Young-mi has successfully made it to her family and is waiting for you to catch up. She jumps up and down as the kite soars above you, the little pinwheels attached to it spinning around in the wind.

           A bit more energy overtakes you, and you sprint the last few yards toward Young-mi, unable to stop the laugh that jumps out of you. You feel so free, here on the beach. It’s almost like you’re up there flying with the kite-

           “Wait!”

           Someone shouts it, you’re not exactly sure who, but by the time the plea registers in your ears, it’s too late. Foot catching in the hole that Young-mi’s brother had been digging earlier, you feel a twist of pain before tumbling to the ground.

           You cry out, barely managing to catch yourself before faceplanting it. The handle from Young-mi’s kite digs painfully into your hand, but that’s the least of your problems at the moment.

           Young-mi’s family rushes over to you, but before they reach you Yoongi is dropping to your side.

           “Oh,” you pant, “hi Yoongs.”

           “Are you alright?” He’s also panting, and you wonder if he had begun running after you before you even fell, foreseeing your path. “Your foot…”

           “I am so sorry!” Young-mi’s mother stoops down on your other side, her husband right behind her. “We completely forgot that Doyun even dug that hole! Can you move? Are you in pain?”

           From where you’re laying belly-down on the sand, you can’t help but feel the burn of embarrassment in your cheeks. “I…move? Yeah, I can – ah never mind.” You wince as you attempt to get to your feet only for the dull ache in your right foot to flare up to a fiery red pain. Yoongi immediately reaches out for you, unsure of what to do. His hands ghost over your leg, but retract when you hiss in pain.

           “Here, my husband-” Young-mi’s mother points over her shoulder to the man in question. “He’s a nurse. Honey, could you…?”

           “Do you mind if I take a look at your ankle?” The man asks in a gentle voice. “Just to make sure nothing’s broken.”

           With a nod, you allow both him and Yoongi to help you swivel around to sit the correct way, the blush you already have deepening even more when Yoongi takes up a spot at your back. He gently pushes your shoulders back until you’re leaning into his chest, his arms coming to wrap around you in a protective manner.

           When you wince as the man delicately presses down on your already swollen ankle, Yoongi begins talking.

           “So, is it just me, or has this entire night been a disaster?”

           You let out a choked laugh. “No, Yoongs. Well, maybe it has, but it’s all my fault. I can’t believe I fell, how embarrassing…”

           “Oh, are you two out on a date? Er, sorry for prying…”

           Both you and Yoongi awkwardly chuckle. “No, no…um, yeah. We are.”

           “It’s our first date, actually,” Yoongi adds as an afterthought.

           “How exciting! Honey, it’s their first date, did you hear that?”

           The man currently inspecting your ankle spares the two of you a kindly glance. “Good for you two. You make a good looking couple.”

           “But I swear I’ve seen you before,” the mother comments, squinting at Yoongi. “Where do I know you from…”

           You can feel Yoongi tense up behind you, but he doesn’t say anything yet. Instead he takes to finding your hands (which you’ve slipped into your sweatshirt pocket to avoid accidentally punching the man poking and prodding at your foot), eventually curling his hands around yours and steadily unclenching your fists.

           “Oh! I know it! Do you do commercials?”

           Yoongi lets out an audible sigh of relief, which makes you smile for half a second before a particularly hard prod at your ankle sends you into a tailspin.

           “Yeah, I’ve done a few commercials.”

           “I knew it. How’s it looking, honey?”

           Her husband sits back on his heels, giving you a nod. “Nothing appears to be broken, you just twisted it pretty good. Babe, grab that icepack out of the cooler. You should keep ice on it for a while to counter the swelling.”

           A second later you’re handing a little bag of ice. “I don’t wanna take your ice,” you comment lamely. Yoongi chuckles in your ear, pulling back from you and standing.

           “It’s just a disposable pack we used for the cooler,” the mother explains, waving off your concern. “No need to worry. We’ve got plenty more. Now, go enjoy your date!”

           “Yeah, try your best to have fun. And keep ice on that, on and off for the next couple of days. It shouldn’t give you too much trouble after that.” With a wink toward Yoongi, your temporary nurse gives him a little nudge. “You seem like a good man. I think you’re in good hands here, miss.”

           Young-mi bids you a mournful goodbye as you limp away with Yoongi, quickly coming to find that sand isn’t the kindest to people hopping around on one leg. You’ve made it all of four hops while clinging to Yoongi before he stops.

           “Hop on my back,” he commands, stepping directly in front of you.

           You blanch. “But Yoongi…your shoulder.”

           “It’s fine. Just hop on. You don’t need to limp all the way back to where we’re sitting.” When you hesitate another moment, he looks back at you over his shoulder, his dark eyes sparking in the sunset. “Jagiya.”

           Well, the man puts up a convincing argument.

           Yoongi crouches down so you don’t have to jump, and with a bit of careful maneuvering you manage to hop onto his back. His hands grip your thighs, hoisting you up a bit higher which makes you gasp a little. Your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, careful to avoid putting too much pressure on shoulder.

           Setting off toward your abandoned blanket and food, you can’t help but feel a rise of disappointment in your chest.

           “Yoongi?” You mumble, almost sounding like an embarrassed child.

           “Hmm?”

           Hiding your face in the back of his neck, you groan. “I’m sorry.”

           Yoongi’s steps falter before he continues on, confusion evident in his tone. “Sorry? For what?”

           The calm that you felt earlier has completely shattered at this point, and you grit your teeth against the pain in your ankle and the onslaught of emotions that surface. What happened to picture perfect? Why couldn’t you focus?

           Other than sitting in the car together, you feel as though you’ve hardly touched base with Yoongi. You haven’t seen the man in nearly two months, and yet here you are distracted as ever. Distracted with your dumb broke clock, distracted with the audiobook, distracted with a kite.

           Yoongi stops in his tracks as he feels hot tears against his neck. “Jagiya?”

           “I- I’m so sorry, Yoongi,” you blubber. “I’m an idiot! I c-can’t focus on anything tonight and…and now I’ve made everything fall apart by going and getting h-hurt…Yoongi, it hurts so bad. A-and now I’m complaining, which is making everything worse!”

           You’re surprised when Yoongi doesn’t say a single thing, instead picking up where he left off as he trudges on toward the blanket. In response to his silence, you continue in your repentant monologue.

           “And you waited in line to get us fooood,” you bite down on your lip as you fight the urge to wail. “It’s probably c-cold now, and you waited for s-so long to get it…I feel like such a bad person…if you don’t wanna continue the date, I u-understand. I promise I won’t tell anyone if you want! J-just, I’m so sorry, Yoongi. I’ve completely ruined this, and you drove t-two hours to get me here….” You’ve reached the blanket now, Yoongi gently sets you down, and you hobble on one foot as you half-expect him to grab his keys and set off toward the car. “I just can’t think straight because I read that stupid pact and-”

           “Woah, back up.”

           Swiveling around to face you, Yoongi has a frown etched into his face. It makes you want to turn and run, to crawl into a cave to die from embarrassment, but it’s the fact that you can barely manage to stand on one foot at the moment – let alone run – that has you standing still.

           “You read the pact?” You blink, hopping a little. When Yoongi sees your struggle he reaches out to you, steadying you. “Here, let’s sit.”

           “W-we’re staying?”

           Yoongi gazes down at you, the look in his eyes turning unspeakable soft. “Yes, jagiya. Unless you aren’t feeling up to it anymore?” He looks as though the thought of leaving now pains him, but he waits patiently for your answer.

           “I wanna stay.”

           “Good. Now, what’s this about you reading the pact?”

           Having successfully turned into a sniffling mess, you wipe away your tears with an angry swipe. It’s time to come clean.

           “I found a copy in Jin’s room-”

           “What were you doing in Jin’s room?!” Yoongi whispers frantically, growing more concerned by the second. You wave him off.

           “-and I took it! I knew I shouldn’t, but I just wanted to know, you know? So I stole it but that was stupid because then I saw that thing on the back…the little note.” Your words trail off, unable to even say the word lovewhen Yoongi’s looking at you like he’s unsure of whether he wants to laugh or cry.

           “The little…note?”

           “Yeah, you know…” You shake your head, moving on. “And since I saw that, I’ve been a mess. Like, an actual mess. I finally called Gina help just to get some help, I needed someone to talk to because you know, I can’t talk to you guys right now which is stupid. But I’m still so lost and I screwed everything up and my ankle hurts Min Yoongi!”

           You’ve stunned yourself into silence with your outburst, Yoongi across from you looks a bit lost himself as he sits back on his heels. It’s clear the moment he comes to a realization.

           “The note.”

           It’s all you can do to breathe normally and not burst out into tears again. Yoongi’s expression turns mournful when he sees you.

           “Oh, jagiya…” leaning forward, Yoongi somehow manages to pull you into his lap. Wrapping his arms around you and tucking your head close to his chest, Yoongi pulls you in as close as he can. He sways gently back and forth, a hand coming up to cup your cheek to make you look at him.

           You do so begrudgingly, feeling like nothing more than a large child. However, the moment you meet his eyes, it hits you like a lightning strike.

           “Do you remember,” he begins quietly, “that time when your final paper accidentally got deleted? All you had left to do on it was add the reference page. You were distraught, remember?”

           Of course you do. It’s the stuff of nightmares. Countless hours spent laboring over a final essay for a class you loathed, only to make a stupid mistake and delete it all. All of it, all nineteen pages were gone in a blink. Your hard work along with it.

           “I remember you called me, a sobbing mess. Obviously I thought you’d hurt yourself, the way you were crying about killed me.” He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, leaving you completely enraptured in his spell as he continues speaking. “I fought with Namjoon because I needed to go see you, but we had a schedule. It was an interview, I don’t even remember for what or with whom, but I was so angry. I seriously thought I was gonna punch him. Then I remembered he goes to the gym a lot more than me, so I didn’t.”

           He manages to make you crack a small grin at that. The sight spurs him on. “But I’ll never forget the sight I saw when I finally made it out to your house later that night. It was like what, two in the morning? No one knew I was even going over, which obviously I did on purpose. I didn’t want to get into another argument. When I walked in your apartment, you were sat at the kitchen table. Remember?”

           The memory is vague, tinged with exhaustion and disappointment, but it’s there. You’d set up camp at your kitchen table all day, missing all other appointments just to try to rewrite your paper. You were half delirious at that point, staring at the screen seemed equal to burning at the stake.

           “I’ve never seen you look more exhausted in my entire life,” Yoongi chuckles. “I remember I was ready to write the paper for you, I was so sad for you. But when I made it over there, I was floored to see that you’d already written it. Not only that, but you’d written twenty-seven pages. Twenty-seven! Who does that?!” He shakes his head at you, looking absolutely shocked.

           “When I asked you why you would do that, you just shrugged and said, ‘why not reach for the stars?’ Then you submitted it, stood up, walked over to me and gave me a hug before going straight to bed. I was so shocked that I just stood there for ages, trying to fathom what had just happened.”

           Yoongi sighs, glancing up at the night sky. You admire his jawline from this angle, nuzzling in a little closer to him for warmth. He notices that you didn’t bring your coat out with you, giving you a playful glare before gently rubbing his hands up and down your arms.

           “Why did you tell me that?”

           You can feel his shrug. “You are more capable, more special than you will ever know. I’ve always kept that in my heart, over the years. Why not reach for the stars? Jagiya…”

           Yoongi shuffles a little bit before cupping your chin and pointing toward the horizon where the sun has slipped down. The night sky is becoming more visible by the second, a few stray stars winking down at you.

           “Look.” He points at a certain spot in the sky just in time for you to see a streak of breathtaking light.

           A falling star.

           In the span of a few minutes, you’re completely speechless as the sky continues to darken and your eyes are glued heavenward. Gradually, more and more falling stars dart across the sky, taking your breath away. As they continue, you recall Young-mi’s words. The sky is coming to say hello.

           Yoongi reaches for your hand, easily enveloping it while tracing the outline of your knuckles.

           “You,” Yoongi breathes out, sending tingles down your spine. “Are the stars I’ve been reaching for ever since that night.”

           Heart thundering against your ribs, you turn to look at him only to find his eyes also trained on the heavens. He speaks the words softly, almost to himself, but you still catch them.

           “You’re a star, all the way up there…and I’m all the way down here. Maybe all I’m meant to do is admire you from afar. But for tonight, just for a moment, I’ll hold you.” His eyes slide down to meet yours, glinting with pure starlight. Cold and beautiful. Hurtling toward you, burning up in your atmosphere and leaving you wondering what would happen if you let him in.

           If it would lead to utter destruction or the most beautiful thing you’ve ever witnessed.

           All words have escaped you at this moment in time, but you don’t feel the need to scramble for some sort of a response. Instead you settle for snuggling in a bit closer, allowing Yoongi to hold you a bit tighter.

           Tonight, he’ll hold you close to his chest while what will later be recorded as the most prominent meteor shower in recent history rains down above you. The dark night sky is set aflame with streaks of silver as falling stars graze the earth, sharing a sweet goodnight kiss as they hurtle through space. You marvel at the seemingly never-ending parade the night sky puts on, relishing the way Yoongi keeps your warm as he also marvels at the wonder above you.

           There’s no words that are exchanged for the entirety of the meteor shower, the only form of communication found in the patterns Yoongi traces out against the back of your hand and the way he gazes down at you from time to time. As though making sure you’re really there.

           It’s a long while before the meteor shower begins to fade, and it’s only when you hear Yoongi softly calling your name that you realized you’ve dozed off.

           “It’s over, jagiya,” he coos, brushing hair away from your eyes. “Let’s get you to the car, then you can sleep the rest of the way home.”

           Somehow you two manage to make it to the car, you yourself being much more coherent by then due to the sharp pains in your ankle. You realize that you two are some of the few people left at the beach, making you wonder when everyone else left.

           Your eyes are half-closed when Yoongi begins to drive away, your hand finding his atop the console.

           “You know you don’t need to worry about us, right?” Yoongi mumbles out, glancing over at you with a worried expression. “We’ll support whatever you decide to do. Remember what I said before? You’re the most capable person I know. You don’t need us, not really. Just…be happy.”

           You mumble out something incoherent, not completely realizing that he’s referring to the aftermath of the pact until you’re already asleep.

           The next thing you know, you’re parked in front of your apartment and Yoongi is grinning down at you from the passenger side door.

           “C’mon,” he urges, helping you out of the car. “Careful with the ankle.”

           “Mmm.”

           It takes a bit of careful maneuvering to get up the stairs to your apartment, but you manage to make it. Leaning up against the door, you fumble for your keys.

           Once you’ve found them, you hand them straight over to Yoongi. You’re far too tired to attempt unlocking your door at the moment. He laughs at your behavior, shooting you a proud gummy smile when he unlocks the door. You don’t even have to ask before he’s assisting you inside, helping you hobble to your room before turning to leave.

           “Thank you, Yoongi. For everything.”

           Yoongi smiles down at his shoes. “We’ll swing by tomorrow to check up on you if that’s ok?”

           We.

           Your stomach flips to remember that you’re over now with these dates. Now what-

           “Or just shoot me a text? I know that might be awkward if we all show up…”

           “Thank you. I’ll text you?” You sigh, running your hands over your face. “Yoongi, I…” You trail off, staring up at him from your bed as your mind and heart races. There’s just no words.

           With a soft smile, he leans down and pecks your nose. The innocent gesture has your ears turning red, which widens his grin.

           “I know.” He whispers back.

           And then he’s gone.

           And you’re left here, suddenly colder than ever.

main masterlist

the dates are DONE. please let me know your thoughts, I love hearing from you! Tomorrow I'll be opening up a poll for your top two dates, so stay tuned for that! 

alsooo stay tuned this week because I may have a lil bonus chapter for you guys 

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