#peep the posters they took forever to do

[divine0]

the tokyo trio getting nabe hot pot!

[kidgetrash]

Monsters And Mana 2 - Save The World, Get The Girl - Chapter 3

Character:  Keith Kogane, Pidge Gunderson/Katie Holt, Lance McClain, Hunk Garrett, Shirogane Takashi, Coran, Princess Allura, Matt Holt

Pairings:  Keith/Pidge

Warnings!:  This is going to be one looooonnnggg fic! I think? So far I'm barely into the plot and I have four chapters, so let's see how far we go! I'll add warnings as they come up!

Summary: King Matt reveals their mission, secrets are revealed, and Shiro hasn't given up on his paladin dreams!

A/N: Forgive me, peeps, for I have sinned! Well, not really, but I had to go out today, I still have toothache, and I have to go out again tomorrow. I'm hoping to get some writing done but if not I will be a day behind on chapters! My sincerest apologies and hope to catch up really soon!

Chapter 3

‘It is I!  King Z’opetes!’

Matt burst in through the doors at the back of the room, making everyone but Coran jump. 

‘Quiznak, Matt, you jerk!  What the hell!?’  Pidge scowled at him from where she had jumped halfway up the back of the booth, almost onto Keith’s shoulders.

‘I am not Matt, I am King Z’opetes.’  He stalked dramatically into the room with a paper crown on his head.  ‘Welcome to my kingdom, fair warriors, your highness.’  He bobbed his head to Keith.

‘Uh…’  Keith hesitated, everybody looking at him to continue the conversation.  ‘Thank you for your invitation.  Might I ask why the sudden summons?’

‘Oh, very good.’  Coran applauded quietly.  ‘You almost had me fooled that you had a good upbringing!  Carry on.’

‘Our countries have had their ups and down.’  Matt strutted around the table to where Pidge was settling back down in her seat.  ‘But I ask for your aid now not as your neighbouring regent but as your friend.  I ask all of you for help.’  He looked between the rest of the party.  ‘My sweet sister, Quieta, has been abducted!’

‘I’ve what now?’  Pidge looked up at the sound of her character’s name.

‘Stolen away in the dead of night!’  Matt mock swooned against Pidge despite her best efforts to push him off.  ‘My dear, sweet baby sister!  Oh, what fate may befall her if you refuse!’

‘Nerd.’  Pidge coughed into her hand, receiving a flick to the side of her head from Matt for her interruption.

‘Quieta was kidnapped?’  Hunk asked, leaning on the table as though it would get him more information.  ‘Any idea who by?’

‘It can only be the dastardly Snagrorians!  If they succeed and we lose her forever, our alliance will never come to be!’  Matt mock sobbed into his hands.

‘Wait, why does Pidge’s character being kidnapped have anything to do with the alliance with our country?’  Lance asked.

‘Firstly, this.’  He whipped a scroll out of his jacket with a flourish that honestly impressed Pidge.  He had props!  Keith took it from him as he informed them of its contents.  ‘This claims that Qiomend is responsible for her abduction and your participation, Prince Theo, would prove this false.  For what kind of a prince would you be if you did not even try and rescue your betrothed?’

‘My what?’

‘His what?’

‘Oh are they?’

Keith, Pidge, and Lance all spoke at once, Keith and Pidge in surprise, Lance in exaggerated amusement, which earned him a punch to the thigh under the table from Allura.

‘It’s all for the game.’  Coran reminded them.  ‘Which we won’t have time to finish if you don’t get a move on.’

‘What say you?’  Matt all but yelled regally.  ‘You, my dearest sister’s future husband,’ he touched Keith’s shoulder before moving on to Shiro, ‘master thief, Snagrore’s greatest bounty hunter,’

‘Hunk did it, game over!’  Lance pointed.  ‘You’re from the country to blame!  You have to be behind it somehow!’

‘Except for this!’  Coran revealed his own scroll and thew it open on the table for everyone to see.  What lay before them was a wanted poster with a pencil drawing of Hunk’s face.  ‘You see, Lore Greyarrow has a bounty on his head from his own country.  He’s one of their greatest enemies.’

‘Yeah, Lance.’  Hunk flashed him a glare before picking up the wanted poster.  ‘Hey, when this is done can I have this for my wall?’

‘Ahem!’  Matt cleared his throat loudly before continuing.  ‘And finally you, Mylaerla.  You have been chosen for your tracking skills.  You will lead them to wherever my sister is being held and save her before anything terrible happens to her!  Do you accept my quest?’

‘If I say no can I roll up a paladin instead?’  Shiro asked.

‘No!’  Coran threw a pen at him.

‘Fine.  I accept.’

‘So do I.’  Keith stated emphatically.  ‘We can’t let them get away with this.  If we can prove it’s Snagrore then we can assume this is an act of war.  If any harm comes to her…’

‘I trust you to get her back.’  Matt was impressed by how seriously Keith was taking the game.  ‘You all have skills that will aid in her rescue.  Mylaerla?’

‘Thank you, Your Majesty.’  Allura looked around the group.  ‘My intelligence shows that the princess is being held in this region.’

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Masterlist

[thefanficmonster]

Filterless

Corpse Husband x Plus-sized Reader (Female)

Warnings: Body Image Insecurities, Low self-esteem, Swearing

Genre:  Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Feeling comfortable in her skin has hardly ever been the case for Y/N who’s been struggling with body image issues all her life. However, they only get worse when she sees the ‘type’ of girls her crush is into.

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your request (hits close to home 😅) I’m so sorry it has taken me so long to fulfill it and post it but here it finally is and if you’ve stuck around long enough to read it, I hope you enjoy! ALSO! - Never forget how beautiful and amazing you are. Never compare your beauty to someone else’s. We’re all beautiful people and we all shine so brightly and uniquely. No one deserves to be compared to anyone when we’re all so different yet so incredible. Love you and appreciate you with all my heart, Vy ❤

If I ever need my ego taken down a few notches - it never does, it’s barely even present, to be honest - all I have to do is go on Instagram. To be honest, regardless of how I’m feeling, opening that app is bound to make my mood plummet and come crashing into the ground so hard it drives a hole in it - probably in the form of a broken heart.

Being a content creator myself, I often get asked questions about my absence on that social platform specifically. I mean, the questions are based and rational I guess, considering I’m not a faceless YouTuber and yet my Instagram account is void of any photos. It’s not like I don’t post at all - I do! I post on my story often but it’s more often than not scenery I find pretty or a poster I’ve made for a movie/video game. Bottom line is: I barely ever allow a picture of me to make it online. The most my fans are ever gonna get of me is a selfie which is also a super rare occurrence because of how long it takes me to take and choose one I don’t hate.

Ok, but how am I supposed to find the motivation to post any sort of picture of myself when on my timeline I’m always faced with people worthy of posting pictures of themselves. People with such perfect bodies and beautiful faces. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not jealous or envious of those people - good for them! They know what they’re working with and they’re working it well. I have nothing against them, in fact, I love seeing people proud of their bodies no matter their size, shape or weight. Those are my role-models: people who are proud of themselves, their bodies, their attributes and capabilities and don’t hesitate to show them off. Those are the people I look up to but, deep down inside I know I’ll never be like.

Insecure about my body, having been referred to as ‘chubby’ and ‘squishy’ all my life. Inappreciative of the stuff I do: starting from my job as a graphic designer leading towards my job on YouTube - nothing I do, professionally or otherwise, satisfies me. Nothing I do is enough in my eyes because I feel incapable of ever being able to do enough. I’ve been called lazy and a half-asser a few too many times to be able to brush it off as a meaningless insult. 

With these problems I’ve had with myself and my own perception of who I am and the work I do, I’ve never had the time for romance or romantic relationships. I second-guess the intentions of everyone who ever shows any interest in me because in my mind I’m nothing special and I have nothing to offer - nothing attractive or likable at least. That being said, I haven’t even been one to make heart eyes at others either. I busy myself with my job and some side-gigs, brushing off any relationship questions with the excuse that I’m ‘just too busy to be in a relationship’ which is technically true.

Having spent twenty plus years with that mindset, one can imagine how surprised I was when I found myself catching feelings for someone. And that someone just couldn’t be any other than the biggest YouTube sensation at the moment - Corpse Husband.

I’m close friends with Poki - her and I were roommates at one point too - so her inviting me to play Among Us with them wasn’t so strange. One or two games, I thought, nothing unusual there, just friendly curtesy. I wasn’t expecting to warm up to the group of famous streamers nor did I expect them to welcome me among them so easily, mostly because my channel is so small and practically invisible to the YouTube algorithm. But soon enough, I became a permanent member of the team, making friends with every single one of those YouTubers I practically thought of a celebrities.

This journey of branching out to other content creators has proven itself to be surprisingly pleasant and has packed my book of friendships to the brim. All of that came unexpectedly, along with a wave of new subs and a higher view count. However, as I mentioned, it hasn’t been all sunshine and rainbows. I came to finally understand what my high school friends were talking about when they were head over heels for a boy - the butterflies in the stomach whenever he speaks your name; the importance of the laugh you share with him, how special and different it is; how cool it is to be impostors with him - ok they never said that, obviously, but it’s what I have as a substitute to the ‘when the two of you make eye-contact’ bullshit since Corpse and I have never seen each other in person. That is, of course, because of him being a faceless YouTuber and me being a self-conscious and insecure girl.

We do talk all the time though - texting, calling, chilling on Discord, you name it. Our conversations range from deeply philosophical to ones that might mislead someone into thinking we’re high. There’s no topic we haven’t touched upon and yet we still manage to find something new to talk about. We have plenty of similarities but we also never seem to run out of differences we slowly come across as we keep getting to know each other better and better. 

And somewhere along that journey I ended up catching feelings.

Human nature of wanting to connect with other people, I curse you for what you’ve done to me.

You might think I’m being overdramatic about the whole ordeal and that this is just a normal, natural occurrence many people experience in their life - some even daily. Well, not only am I far from used to it, but it’s also taking a toll of a different kind on me.

It’s like a constant slap to the face. 

That slap turned into a punch when Corpse and I started following each other on Instagram and I started getting daily reminders of how out of my depth I am with this crush on him. In over my head, especially when you look at all those girls whose pics and videos he reposts on his story. Imagine how that makes me feel, what that does to me - puts me back into the ‘Constantly not good enough‘ basket, the one I’ve been fighting to get out of all my life. In the past and in different contexts I could easily say that it was all just my mind hating me intensely but now - now that I know for a fact I’m not good enough and don’t fit Corpse’s criteria - it hurts ten times as much. I’m not one to do shit for someone’s attention or to attract someone’s eyes, but it really hurts my feelings. Often times, it also leads me to doing dumb things and making rash decisions. 

Like the one I made two days ago.

Imagine me cringing and shaking my head at my own stupidity as I admit this: I, in a frenzy, ordered a whole e-girl getup with overnight delivery. 

Wait, hold up, it gets worse. 

I received it yesterday and spent the whole day regretting that decision, but then, in my most insecure hours - which was somewhere around midnight - I equipped the get-up, took a picture and posted it on my Instagram page. First full body pic I’ve ever posted on there. First pic I’ve posted there of any kind. There to stay, not to be gone in twenty four hours. First pic, and it’s not even of me. It’s of who I want to be in order to fit someone’s criteria. And that fucking stings.

As you might imagine, I’ve spent today’s day regretting that decision as well. Recently my mood’s been nothing but regretting rash decisions that have surfaced under the influence of my ridiculous, constantly-present insecurities. And I would’ve probably gotten over it rather quickly had I not received a message from Corpse that read:

“Didn’t think of you with an e-girl aesthetic“

I didn’t open the message, I peeped at it as it was a notification on my lock screen. It’s still there, an unread notification. It’s been two hours since I received it and I cannot think of a single thing to say in response to that. 

Truth is, I’m afraid. I’m afraid of so many things right now.

I’m afraid of becoming that girl in the photo, cause I’m most definitely not her.

I’m afraid of letting Corpse down by admitting I’m not her.

I’m afraid of what my own mind has made me do because it hates me so much and I’m terrified of what it might do in the future.

I’m afraid and stranded on things to do.

You can’t be her forever, you know. Being her won’t make your insecurities go away, it’ll only make them worse. Haven’t you learned that by now?

I sigh, frustrated and irritated with myself as I grab my phone and tap on the notification, finally deciding to face the music and allow my instincts to carry me through the interaction. Improvisation, that’s one of the few things I’m good at. Let’s hope it doesn’t fail me.

I’m just about to type out my response - not sure what it’s gonna say - when I give the message Corpse has sent me a second glance.  I furrow my brows, finding there’s more to it than that peep through the notification let me see.

“Didn’t think of you with an e-girl aesthetic. You’re personality is so bright and colorful, I could’ve never imagined you were into the darks and blacks“

Because I’m not

I fail to realize until the message has been sent that my thoughts are exactly what I typed out and sent.

And honestly, I’m glad. It feels like I’ve spoken my truth, like I’ve lifted a huge boulder off my chest.

With that rare confidence in mind I go on and delete the picture.

In its spot, I post a picture I just now took - a mirror selfie in my homey get-up consisting of hot pink sweatpants and an oversized blue tee, my hair in a messy bun, my face free of make-up.

I caption it: ‘Oops, had the e-girl filter on for the last one. This is filterless me tho so...Hi 🥴’

A lot better, I’m surprised to hear my inner voice say. I hope I don’t get used to all this kindness on my brain’s part, probably won’t last, but damn if I don’t milk every second of it.

Just then, I receive a new message from non other than Corpse.

“Now that’s the girl I see when I think of you. She’s super cute 😉“

My, oh my, who would’ve guessed Corpse has a game like that - and by that I mean the ability to make me blush so intensely with only a text message.

Now ain’t that better than being someone else, Y/N?

It sure is, it sure is.

@maat-the-prescriptive  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @itsminniekat  @hacker-ghost  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat  @idontknowwhatthisisfam  @evi-ka  @classyandfabulous00  @redperson58  @lilysdaydreams @solowheein  @mythicalamphitrite  @axen-gers  @luckygirl144  @nj01  @buddyemily   @the-albino-lioness  @stardream14  @gdhdkfnn  @nomadicgypsyy  @preciousskye  @fluffysuicideunicornsworld  @o-kaelin  @manacharlotte  @awkward-youtube-trash  @lolalee24  @bonky-beerns  @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian  @strawbrinkofdeath  @teenloves  @tams0527  @browneyespinkhair  @starstruckllamapuppy  @daisychains012  @y0ulooked  @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life  @jula-pauline  @melodykitty  @just-that-bi-girl  @crazybutconfidentaf  @lowellshade @alphakees  @bellero  @weallneednamjesus  @starryhanji  @boiled-onionrings  @husherstan  @fockingwhore  @melaningoddessthings  @prettypastelpetals  @haleypearce  @godwhyamiawkward  @y-napotat  @daisychainyoonmin  @little-miss-rebel3  @free-wheelin-bi-sexual  @redmoon261 @darkacademic2  @wiseflamingoqueen  @into-the-end  @namikhai-i  @nastiablr  @thelittleplantlover  @mirktuan  @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny  @vintagegothlover  @easygoingtheatre  @itsrandombooklover  @miiaivi  @emmybaybee  @befourgolden  @jjk-is-my-shit  @eternalteaaars  @spacebadgerx  @princesslunalight  @acequinn14  @samm48  @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa  @fo-love  @marishimomura-blog  @therealglenncoco  @cinnamonbun332  @killtherandomness  @sanshinexxxsan  @fee-btheweeb  @press-lay  @cathleenpotgieter16  @jazzydoesstuff  @moonlxghtbay  @forestrain2000  @hyunjinhugs  @blood-of-fandoms  @lovellylies  @ukiyolixx  @simpforhpcharacters  @chrisdylan17  @parkerjisung  @pedernille  @theodonyous  @wineandionysus  @malfoystilinskii05  @morbid-x  @coryisagee  @jessewa26  @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365  @raeanneinwonderland  @indecisive-empanada  @gluttonypalace  @loriane2503  @btsiguess-kpop  @khaoticbunny  @lucidlycactus  @smiithys  @rottenroyalebooks  @kpopgirlbtssvt  @fangirl-tc27  @fr0z3n-1  @notmesimpingfortechno  @shotarosleftpinky  @kunoi-chan  @idk-whats-wrong-with-me  @yikeroonie  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @poetry-and-tea  @ama-do-writing-stuff  @wishbonewolf  @emeraldxhope  @t0xick1tty  @kusuinko  @speakyourselfloveyourself  @sophia902103  @lo-manburg  @classsykittykat  @dmgama  @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee  @btsiguess-kpop  @akaashi-baby  @gun-jong-simp  @geschichtenfee  @yerapotato-wp  @browneyedgirl365  @thysagclub  @sparklycloudnight  @helloatomicshadow  @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal  @lucy-bunny17  @aaliyahh0  @katluckybear  @boyleanti  @straybids  @franchesca-791  @cosmicstorm19  @averyisbackinthetrashcan  @aomi-nabi  @xlanawriter  @allensimpsforcorpse

[phanhowell]

Small details in JATP that I ✨love✨ Willex scene edition

People liked my Unsaid Emily details post so I’m back for part 2, this time using only scenes featuring my favourite ghost boyfriends.

Starting off we have this brilliant screenshot from the first time they meet. Not much to say about it tbh but I think it’s super cool how Dave Hoge is the producer of the show and they found a way to include his name in such a creative way. It took me way too long to figure out that this wasn’t just a random name that they threw in there. 

Next we have this. I’m fairly sure that those posters in the back are promoting the names of bands that Sunset Curve could’ve been (as in they were the draft names). It’s also hilarious to me that the band posters we see in this scene and in any other present day scene are the same bands that were being promoted at the orpheum in 1995. They thought we wouldn’t notice HA. Perhaps my favourite thing about this image however is the fact that Dog Costume man can be seen verryyyy slowly walking into the shot the entire time. Give that man a raise honestly he deserves an oscar for this performance. The bus numbers might mean something but I don’t live in Hollywood or know anything about buses so idk what. 

Next we have this!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Rainbow bracelet!!!!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAA I love. Don’t think about Alex nervously going into a store by himself in 1994 to buy this. Don’t think about him checking over his shoulder constantly to make sure nobody saw him buy it. Don’t think about him only wearing it when he’s alone at home and looking at himself crying in the mirror, trying desperately to accept himself. Absolutely don’t think about him eventually being proud enough to wear it around the boys, but before coming home having to take it off and shove it in his pocket, along with putting the small cross back on his chain. :)

Also peep that solid black ring. I’m not saying ace! alex but 👀we already know Willie has the Gay™️ earring so it wouldn’t be too far of a stretch to assume the costume design is trying to say something. It’s on the right hand too, which after some research is apparently the one that means asexual. I’m not ace however so if this is completely wrong someone please come and yell at me. 

[EDIT AFTER POSTING: Fifi pointed out to me that an ace ring is typically worn on the middle finger of the right hand, while Alex wears his on his index finger. Because of this please ignore everything I just said.]

Skateboard!!!! Pretty much all of the ideas in this bit are from @funsizearsonist​ so go follow them k? Firstly, it would not be far fetched to assume that Willie is an artist. He really strikes me as a guy who’d be into street art and who sometimes leaves graffiti in places just because he knows he can never be caught. Willie is creative, and probably designed his skateboard himself. That’s why he was so concerned that Alex dinged it. The design seen here is a flaming sword, which actually fits him perfectly. A flaming sword in literature and mythology typically means that whoever is holding it is a protector or guardian, with the fire representing supernatural abilities. That’s Willie!! In season 1 while he is the one that brings them to Caleb, he is also the one that tries to save them from being jolted out of existence. If it weren’t for him, the boys would be gone forever. On top of this, I really believe that next season Willie is going to play a much bigger part in the battle against Caleb. We’ve seen him use his powers already on the cops, but he 100% can do so much more that we haven’t seen yet. He’s going to be the boys’ saviour I’m telling ya.

Nothing to say about this except look at the pictures on the walls. Caleb knows he’s an icon and I love it.

ehehehehehe this one makes my heart go weeeeeee. Very hard to see, but Willie has his arm around Alex’s shoulders. If you missed my post I did a while ago, Willie touches Alex 14 whole times during this single song. If that isn’t love idk what is.

Ok, this one isn’t so much about the screenshot as it is about what’s happening in the scene. If you’ve always found it weird how they were walking around while talking instead of just sitting down to have a conversation, you aren’t the only one. But the truth hurts. Willie is making the boys follow him to talk because he knows that Caleb is tracking him. By being with them, he’s putting them all in danger, but it’s a risk he’s willing to take for Alex. Willie can’t stay in one place for long, because if he does Caleb is going to catch him. I mean he literally says “if he even knew I was here talking to you, he would destroy me”. What I think is that Willie is only trying to protect the boys at this stage because he knows that Caleb is going to catch him no matter what. By changing locations constantly, at least he’s giving them a chance to live, even if it means he’s going to die again. 

Last screenshot and you know I couldn’t leave the hug out. Just look at them :) They’re in love :) That’s all. 

I’m just kidding I wanna talk about Willie’s bracelets. Dang flabbit does he have a lot. I like to think that he had none of these when he was alive, but has collected them over the years of being a ghost. Maybe he steals them from stores, maybe he finds them in the many strange locations that he screams at. Maybe, just maybe, each one of them represents a different friend of his who has crossed over. If that last part is the case, then in this moment Willie could already be thinking about what bracelet he can make in Alex’s honour. 

[marvel-and-mischief]

His Saving Grace Part VII

Title: His Saving Grace - Maxwell Lord x F!Reader Words: 3600 Warnings: conversation about feelings, reader talks about her dark thoughts in the past, kissing, detailed description of a panic attack Synopsis: You meet with Diana to discuss Maxwell’s options.

His Saving Grace Masterpost

The Smithsonian looked a lot different in the day, the imposing building loomed over you as you walked up the front steps. You knew it wasn’t the museum that was making you nervous, but the job you had to do and the woman you had to meet. 

Maybe you should have ran the idea by Maxwell first, but a part of you knew he would be hesitant. After what you had seen on the night of the gala, Maxwell had been uncomfortable in Diana’s presence, and Diana was confrontational when she walked over to him. They obviously weren’t friends. 

But it was literally your job to get Maxwell back into the workplace, and if this didn’t work, and you didn’t manage to convince him that it was the ideal solution, then you didn’t know what you were going to do. 

You asked for Diana Prince at the information desk and was told by the man at the desk where she worked, pointing in the general direction of a staircase (you think) before answering a ringing telephone and dismissing you.

Trying to find your way to the Anthropology Department without a helpful staff member, or a map, was confusing and you ended up walking back on yourself more than a few times but you got to Diana’s office eventually. 

You were about to knock when the door flung open, Diana pausing just before bumping into you, a look of confusion on her face as she tried to remember where she’d seen you before.

“Diana isn’t it? I’m Maxwell’s friend, we met at the gala,” you said casually and stuck out your hand towards her, reminding her of your name. She took it after a moment, shaking your hand and politely laughing. If she was wary of you being at her place of work she didn’t let on, instead she ushered you into her office and offered you a cold coffee which you gladly took.

“Look, I don’t know what Maxwell has told you but as long as he stays out of trouble, he will never hear from me again.” 

Diana sat on one end of a velvety soft, maroon loveseat and you took a seat on the other end. 

“Actually, I’m hoping that won’t be true,” you began, cradling your cold coffee on your lap, “you must have some idea that Maxwell is struggling. Black Gold is bust and it will never recover. No one will hire Maxwell Lord, for obvious reasons.”

“I don’t see how I can help him. I sympathise, but Maxwell is reaping the repercussions of what he sowed. You can understand why no one wants to help him,” Diana spoke to you gently, offering you a sympathetic smile. 

You sighed as you looked around her office, a poster of human evolution, an old wind instrument that reminded you of the recorder you were taught to play at school, a long piece of parchment paper with what you could only guess were hieroglyphics or something similar. And on the wall next to where you sat was a diagram of a stone of some sort. 

“Maxwell got his stone from here, right?”

Diana nodded but said no more.

“A Dreamstone?”

“Whatever Maxwell has told you, it needs to stay a secret.”

“Diana, the whole world saw him use it.”

“The world saw a madman,” at your look of offence Diana shook her head, “I’m telling you what everybody saw, not who he actually is. And that is my point.”

You weren’t going to get into an argument with Diana about the Maxwell you knew, not right now anyway, so you bit your tongue.

“But he has ties to this place.”

Diana thought for a moment, starting to understand that you weren’t going to give up easily. She slowly nodded, eyeing you curiously and weighed up how much she should say about what had gone down with Maxwell and the Dreamstone.

“Maxwell only has ties to the Smithsonian because he wanted the stone. He befriended a gemologist, Barbara Minerva, to get to it. He succeeded and then he became the stone. And I presume you know the rest.”

It took you a second to realise that Diana had said “he became the stone” but you filed it to the back of your mind for another time. Or maybe you would never bring it up. If you wanted Maxwell to get passed this part of his life, you would have to stop asking questions eventually. 

“So let me get this straight, because he was the Maxwell Lord he could just walk into this place and take what he wanted?”

“Well, he was very persuasive. Plus he gave a lot of money to the department as a bribe.”

“So he’s given money to the museum before?” The cogs were starting to turn in your head as you realised it could work in Maxwell’s favor if he’s already shown support for the Smithsonian.

Diana tilted her head as she watched you, trying to work out what you were planning. She was clever enough to realise almost instantly.

“You can’t seriously be suggesting that Maxwell work here?”

“I am! He’s already proven his loyalty to the museum through a donation I assume was considerable. I’m sure it helped the museum a lot.”

Diana hesitantly nodded, knowing the money was much larger than any benefactor had given to the museum in years. She sighed in frustration and stood, walking over to her desk to rifle through a pile of papers. You placed your forgotten coffee on the table and followed. 

“I know he can’t work in any of these departments. But he has a business degree, he’s got the experience. He’s someone the museum would jump at the chance to have work here.”

Diana laughed cynically.

“You said yourself, nobody will hire him, what makes you think we will?”

“I said no one will hire Maxwell Lord. But what about Maxwell Lorenzano?”

Diana looked up from her papers and gave you a quizzical look.

“He wants a fresh start and I think I can persuade him to leave the Lord name behind.” You swallowed the lump in your throat, wondering if you were overstepping. Maxwell had said to you at the diner that he wanted to be more like his old self, maybe this was the way forward? 

It wasn’t unlike you, as a lawyer, to be persuasive to get the results you wanted, the results you thought were best for your clients. But Maxwell wasn’t a client, not in your heart. He was your friend, and hopefully more in the future. Were you being too pushy, putting out the idea of him changing back to his birth name? Even though he’d suggested that very thing to you at the diner? 

You were starting to realise why it was frowned upon to begin relationships with clients, it made everything so complicated, it had you second guessing everything you were saying and doing whilst working for them. Because it wasn’t about getting results for the pay check at the end of the job, it was about getting results for the man you loved. It was about wanting the best for him, wanting him to be pleased with you and everything you were doing for him. 

“Are you okay?” Diana’s voice jolted you out of your spiralling thoughts and had you laughing awkwardly.

“I’m fine,” your smile didn’t quite meet your eyes, but you cleared your throat as you pointed to the papers she was looking through, silently asking her to explain.

“There was a list of job vacancies the boss sent around to everybody on Friday, it was here somewhere… a-ha!” Diana produced the single piece of paper with titles and one-sentence job descriptions on it.

“Is there anything appropriate for Maxwell?” You asked hopefully, going on tip toes to try and peep over the paper. Diana shook her head as she read down the page, coming to a stop right at the bottom.

“Although…”

“What is it?” You asked, a little too forcefully. Too impatient to wait a moment longer you snatched the piece of paper from Diana’s fingers and skimmed through the titles until you saw the very last one.

“Do you think-“

“It’s perfect,” you shot Diana a beaming smile, “will you-“

“I’ll let the boss know I have the perfect guy for the job.”

-

Maxwell nervously shuffled from foot to foot outside your apartment door, holding a bouquet of wildflowers in his hands, similar to the ones you wore on your dress the night of the gala. His polo shirt felt too tight on him all of a sudden, and he wasn’t sure if he should button all four buttons or leave it at two. 

The issue wasn’t that he had never been to your apartment before, or even that he was visiting unannounced, but entering into a new relationship. With you.

He loved you. He realised that at the gala when he watched you charming potential clients, giving away business cards until you had ran out of them, it had filled him with such a sense of pride that you had walked in on his arm. It wasn’t a slow realisation either. It was when he was seeing people notice you, laugh with you, agree with your advice, and then he thought yes, see this brilliant woman who can make your dreams come true? I love her. 

It didn’t scare Maxwell, quite the opposite. He was excited. Because you both worked so well together already. It was all so natural, the way you joked with him over lunch, or grabbed his hand in the middle of conversation. And the kissing.

Maxwell hadn’t kissed anyone the way he’d kissed you in… forever. It was a kiss that lit a burning flame in his heart, warm in every way but persistent and wouldn’t burn out until you reignited it with another. He felt the ghost of your lips on his, even in his dreams and he would wake up with a smile on his face, ready to start the new day in the hopes that he would see you soon. 

He felt young again, in a wide eyed, fresh faced kind of way. Like the world was his for the taking because he had you by his side to keep him grounded but also an encouraging voice in his ear telling him he could do anything if he just believed in himself. 

Maxwell wished he’d met you so much sooner. Before the seed of the Dreamstone had been planted in his mind and he’d gone on his reign of self destruction. He thinks you would have been able to stop him, to persuade him that he had everything he needed already. You could have helped him through the financial difficulties of Black Gold. You would have saved him. 

Maxwell shook his head of that thought and readjusted his collar. He couldn’t change the past. He could only look to the future.

He knocked on the door, realising he probably should have called before coming over. You might be working, or have friends over, or not be in at all-

The door flew open and you appeared, holding a wooden spoon in your hand and wearing an apron tied at the front covered in what looked and smelled like cocoa powder.

“Maxwell? What’re you doing here?” You asked, surprised to see him at your door.

“I should have called ahead, I apologise-“

“Don’t be silly. How many times have I come over to yours without warning? Come in,” you pointed towards the living room with your spoon and closed the door behind you. 

Maxwell let you lead him into the open plan area. It was smaller than Maxwell’s apartment but the layout was almost the same. The furnishings however were trying to be less impressive, more rustic with dark, wooden furniture instead of brightly colored plastic. It was comfortable and had a homely feel to it that Maxwell didn’t realise he liked until now. There were papers strewn across the coffee table, bookshelves actually filled with books unlike his own, dozens of blankets laid across the top of the couch, coffee stains on side tables. It was a perfect mix of your head and your heart. Smart and kind. Hard working but also relaxed. 

You went into the kitchen area, pulling open the oven and the smell of freshly baked chocolate cookies filled the air. Maxwell’s stomach rumbled but luckily you were too busy to hear. It was then that Maxwell remembered the flowers in his hand.

“I brought you flowers,” Maxwell placed them on top of the island, perching on a stool.

“Thank you, that’s very sweet,” you picked them up and went searching for a vase in the cupboards. You found a decanter with a thick neck and decided that would be sufficient, filling it with water from the tap and placing the flowers inside to display on the countertop.

“I wanted to talk to you about some things,” Maxwell cleared his throat and interlocked his hands together on top of the island, “about my future.”

“Yes,” you nodded, taking a seat on a stool opposite Maxwell, “I think I have a plan, the next step, maybe even permanently if you agree to it.”

“Can we talk about us first?”

You froze in your spot, ready with your speech that would sell your plan to him, but you could see he had come over for a reason and decided to let him talk first. 

“I said I wanted to take things slow, and I still do. But I need things to be clear, out in the open so you know where I stand,” as much as Maxwell was nervous he kept eye contact with you, “I love you. I’m falling in love with you. These last couple of months have opened my eyes to how lonely and alone I am. And I’m not using that as an excuse for what I did but if I am going to succeed in being a good father, a good man, then I need you by my side. I think the world of you and everything you’ve done for me and I promise to try and make it up to you in any way I can.”

Your smile grew the more Maxwell talked, hearing everything you’d hoped he would say. You were on the same page, wanted the same things. Maxwell patiently waited for you to respond, even though the butterflies in his stomach were threatening to painfully burst out of him.

“Maxwell Lorenzano, I love you too.” You laughed, tears welling in your eyes, your chest full of happiness that things were looking up for the both of you. 

You wiped at your eyes with the bottom of the apron you were still wearing, then placed both your hands over the top of his.

“You say I’ve helped you but you have no idea how much you’ve helped me too. I was at the bottom of a very dark pit of self hatred before I met you. And although I was getting better, I don’t know what would have happened in my life if you hadn’t called me that day. I’m not sure if I believe in fate or destiny or anything like that but I believe we met each other at the perfect moment so we could help each other through the worst time of our lives. And if we can pull each other out of that then we can do anything together.”

Maxwell’s watery smile grew as he stood from his stool and walked around the island to stand next to you. He leaned down and placed a chaste kiss to the top of your head, before placing another on the tip of your nose that had you giggling. You stood and used the sudden closeness to press a bold kiss to his lips, hands running through his hair as his hands came to naturally place themselves in the dip of your waist.

Maxwell pulled away to place small kisses to the corner of your mouth, tasting the remnants of the chocolate mixture you must have tasted whilst baking your cookies. When he got to your jaw he felt your hands on his shoulders gently pushing him away, an apologetic look in your eyes.

“I still need to talk to you about the plan I’ve put together.”

Maxwell groaned, keeping a hold of your waist as he playfully tickled the soft skin of your neck with his nose.

“Maxwell…” you chuckled, enjoying this playful side of Maxwell.

“You’re ruining the fun,” Maxwell removed his head from your neck and pouted. You tried to take him seriously but he looked like a grumpy child who had been told ‘no more sweets’. You kissed him sweetly on the cheek and motioned towards the couch in the living room. 

His sigh was overly exaggerated as he took a seat on the couch. You had taken off your apron in the kitchen and sat next to Maxwell with a yellow sweater on, sleeves rolled up to the elbows. In amongst the rustic aesthetic of the living room, you looked like actual sunshine to Maxwell. 

“I tried to find you a job that I thought you’d like, that wouldn’t necessarily be easy but would use your previous skills and still challenge you.”

You took a piece of paper from the side table and handed it to Maxwell. It detailed a job description, the kinds of jobs he’d be taking on and with what departments, and the key skills he would be using. Maxwell nodded the whole way through until he spotted where he would be working.

“The Smithsonian?” He asked, unsure and a little take aback that this would be the place you’d choose considering his connections to the place. 

“Yes, it was much easier to find you a job at a place you’d already given a sizeable donation to,” you explained gently, you ran your fingernails along the lines in the palm of your hand, a nervous habit as you tried to gauge Maxwell’s reaction. 

“I don’t know,” Maxwell re-read over the job description, which he was comfortable with, the annual salary that was more than enough to look after himself and Alistair, the job title ‘Financial Manager’ was more than suitable for his qualifications, everything was perfect, except the place of work. He would run into Diana probably, and was Barbara still working there? That would be awkward. That place held bad memories, Maxwell was trying to move away from his past not shoot head first towards it. 

“Look, you would mostly be working in the offices away from other departments, Diana said-“

“You spoke to Diana?” Of course you had, how would this job be practically given to him without so much as an interview without Diana’s help? Maxwell eyed you suspiciously, wondering how much she’d told you about the incident, how much you’d told her about Maxwell’s situation. He trusted you, he loved you, there was no love without trust but he suddenly felt like the walls of your apartment were closing in on him and the piece of paper in his hand was shaking as though an earthquake was ripping through the building.

“Maxwell?” He heard your voice but it was so far away, where had you gone? It was like listening to someone shouting from the other end of a tunnel, had you left him? Maxwell’s eyes were closed tightly shut so he couldn’t see where you’d gone but he felt something soft and warm on either side of his face, and then his face was being pressed into something fluffy, it felt like how your sweater looked, was it you? 

Your voice was getting clearer and his breathing was slowing down though he didn’t remember breathing so fast, why was he struggling to breathe? 

Your hands, he could feel them now, moving over his shoulders, along his back, up and down his upper arms and the fog was slowly lifting from his mind, from his lungs, and there were tears falling from his eyes. And all he could hear were your apologies and his name leaving your lips. Your sweet lips that felt so good against his own, they were touching his ear as you spoke soothing words, he concentrated on that and then everything was clear. 

He cautiously pulled away from you, just enough to see you looking at him full of concern. Maxwell placed his large hand against your cheek and guided you to press your foreheads together as he continued to breathe through the panic attack. 

“I’m so sorry Maxwell,” you whispered but Maxwell shushed you softly, stroking your cheek, your hair, your neck until he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and brought you into a hug.

“You are perfect and have nothing to be sorry for,” he said, holding you close until he believed you were truly there and not a hallucination created out of his panic stricken mind, “it just all suddenly felt very real. I think I’m scared.”

He felt you nod against his chest, your hand was running up and down his side, soothing him, comforting him in any way that you could. You were nearly lying on top of him; Maxwell had leaned you both backwards, his head resting on the corner of the couch as he tried to relax and prevent another panic attack.

“I’m here. You don’t have to do any of this on your own. Or at all, I’ll call Diana and tell her the job isn’t suited to you. We’ll find something else.”

“No,” that made you look up from his chest, searching his eyes for what he meant, “it’s the kind of job I’d be good at. I just have to remember that I’m not alone.”

You didn’t know how long you stayed like that, holding each other close, but by the time you tried the cookies they were cold. 

Permanent tag list: @autumnleaves1991-blog @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @galactic-rhi @phoenixhalliwell @thewayofthemandalorian @computeringturtle @lesbianlena @shikin83 

[othersideoftheparadise]

Tampered [2/?]

Sam wilson X cis!fem!Reader

Warnings: 5k words, based on tfaws ( so spoilers), U.S.Agent, amateur writing.

I’m re-posting this again, because I accidentally deleted while creating masterlist. I’m writing something like this for the first time, so constructive criticism is appreciated.

You stayed seated in the restaurant nearby to Bucky’s apartment, waiting for him to go back home. You didn’t want to startle him. It had been a day or two ever since you arrived from DC, where it had taken half a day to track him down. Right now, you were hungry and gobbling down as much as you could, ignoring the weird glances as they walked down the street. It didn’t matter anyways because there were lesser people out on the streets during this time, of the night.

Staccato breaths. Fast paced steps.

Finishing your drink, you waved at him to catch his attention, as he walked passing over right by you. Placing down the money under one of the plates, you ran behind him.

“James! Bucky! Where are going? Is everything okay?”, catching his pace and kept your distance as to how he preferred it to be.

“Hey Y/N, you were not supposed to be here today.”, He somewhat seemed in middle of a dilemma rattling in his head and slowed down visibly. You didn’t want to impose him, all at once because he was in middle of something else.

“I’ll explain you once we reach the apartment. Deal?” He picked up speed nodding at you.

“Stay right here”, holding you right by your arm, he pushed you back abruptly few meters away from the front door, knocking it. Just like how he used to do, back in the day when you both were together in missions.

“Hey, what are you doing here? How was the date?”, you heard an older voice on the other side of the door. Bucky was visibly frozen, when he peeped into the little view of whatever the door opening could offer.

“It was…it was good”, he regained his composure as he saw you trying to step in, handing over the money. “Forgot that I owed you for lunch.” Walking away abruptly, to the apartment that you shared with him.

“Do you want to talk about it?”, drinking water as you leaned against the kitchen counter.

“No, it’s—it’s nothing,”- he continued glancing around the apartment, as he found pale mint green painted walls more interesting.

Okay.

“But what are you even doing here? Weren’t you supposed to be here tomorrow evening?” you turned around again to look at him.

“I–I broke up with him Bucky. I— “, “Come here, beanie.” he closed the distance in between and sweeping you into a chaste hug, as you buried your head into his shoulder wrapping your arms around him.

“So, you want to talk about it?”

No.

“I mean, Sam deserves the shield more than anyone else. I just don’t understand why he had to just give it away. He thinks he’s undeserving, I—I just don’t understand. I’ve known him for years… There is a reason why Steve gave it to him. Steve knows what it feels like to be someone who politically has to follow the government and not based on their own ideologies…”, You knew that you were rambling at this point.

“But, I just—I feel useless. Not being able to do anything. Not being able to help him out even if I want to.” You sighed as you pulled out from his embrace, holding him by his arms. “I just don’t understand Bucky.”, you felt him patting your head as you looked at him.

“Am I doing something wrong?”

“That is not up-to me to be honest. You need to take a break, lil’ bean.” He heaved a sigh as he went to the fridge for some drinks.

“I told you to stop calling me that”— “I can’t help it, it just slips out.”, Bucky would not talk about his day so you continued talking about yours, as you both were preparing to sleep.

You chuckled as you remembered Sam. “You know, I just remember the day when I met him. It was a bad day but turned better when I met him, Edna.” You were already missing him.

“Hey, I told you not to call me that.”

“AA-Anyways, coming back to the point. You used to snicker all the time, back in Wakanda right? I’m just going to say it however, whether you are going to like it or not.”

“Will you ever not let an old man sleep in peace?”

“No”, He shifts facing towards you, sighing exaggeratedly as you continue to speak.

“It was around 2014, when I was on run from S.H.E.I.L.D. I’m glad that I did. He is always selfless and has his heart on his sleeve. A-As he used to say, just slower than Steve. Our first meeting was so awkward, he looked like a cat, looking at a feather wand.”, You could feel yourself smiling.

You would never forget the look that Sam had on his face, when Steve and you accompanied an injured Nat, to his house. It took all the seriousness of the situation to not smile at his confused look right then and there.

“Barnes, I think that I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have broken up with him.”, there was a lot going on in your mind now, only to find Barnes fake snoring.

Ugh, never mind he hardly ever sleeps, he’ll fall asleep anyways.

Maybe you could have just made it clear that you were ready to be his friend again rather than blowing the entire aspect of being in contact with him out of the proportion, platonic or not. Whatever.

Things with Sarah were a bit better than with Sam, secret impromptu visits during missions when you were all injured up, taking turns to look after the kids when she was managing work from both the ends to keep the business afloat, her delicious homemade crawfish etouffee that had been passed down over generations.

She was one of the main reasons why you didn’t lose shit and were level headed all those years after the snap had happened. You owed it to her. You wanted to make sure that she didn’t drown in debts and loans anymore. The kids need not go through the same as you did, eat the stale potatoes, carrots and strawberries stored throughout the year, with no proper sleep and a routine before you were recruited by Natasha.

“Hey Happy, got a minute? I need your help.”

“Even though I never met him, he feels like a brother.” “Wow.”

Really? This now?

“James, are you ready? We can only reach on time, if we leave now. Otherwise, we’re gonna miss Sam.” Bucky kept staring at the television, with dazed eyes reflecting colors off the television dancing around him.

“Hey Buck,” you grasped him by his bicep, rubbing his arm. “We need to leave.” He nodded wiping his tears off with his thumb. You didn’t want to press in.

“I’m fine, I’m alright!”, he went to the door closing it.

You were nervous on your whole way to meet Sam, right after you made things awkward with him. Right, at this moment he needed you as a friend. You both had a really good friendship, before you two had hit off. You were the one to tell him that you liked him, you still could remember the amused expression on his face.

 “New Cap is back!” There were posters of John Walker all across walls of the base as you walked towards the ramp area, to get hold of Sam. You caught him staring at the posters as he jogged d own.

“You shouldn’t have given the shield.”

Bucky, no. Not right now.

Being a spy gave you many advantages such as in this situation, keeping a straight face.

“Good to see you too, Buck.”, he went straight ahead passing by you.

Honestly, you knew that you deserved it but you had to speak up.  “Sam, are you okay?” Both Bucky and you caught up.

“This is wrong”, Hmph. You knew that their banter would last forever. At this point, you were used to it. You had to talk to Sam, even his ignorance was making you angry. Instead, you went to Torres to get updated.

“Hey Torres, how are you feeling now? All better?”, you asked as he was filling out the paper-work. “OH- Hey, I’m feeling better now. It’s just a scratch”, you did not respond back, giving him a knowing smile. “Just take care and don’t be too reckless next time.”

You hesitated asking him, you only knew him for few months, but you almost had no one else to rely upon. All you did was take part in meetings, discuss if the intels were reliable or not, train for the missions and then go for it. You had stopped talking to people at this point. It was either Sam, Bucky or Torres and others, threading in for small conversations regarding missions.

“Hey Y/N, you okay?”, Huh? “Yeah-Yeah, look Torres, I just need you help. Can you look after Sam during the missions, just in case if he gets injured or something, you know?”, you stalled.

“O-Okay. but what about you? Aren’t you going to come anymore or what?”, Eh- talk about being awkward. “Um, I don’t think so.”, you trailed off looking at Bucky all suited up for the mission.

You definitely did not see this coming.

“Y/N, are you coming with us or not?”, of course, it was Bucky who asked you. You saw Sam adjusting straps of the wings attached. You didn’t want to feel sad about him ignoring you right now but he had every right to. You had to give him space.

“So, you’re coming. Okay, alright then.” You were more confused than ever before, but you caught upon. He was third wheeling now. Great. Dragging you in the quinjet by your arm, he shoved your mission backpack, with your suit in it. This idiot had it all planned. Wonderful.

“He needs us and you’re coming with me.” Eh. “I don’t think this is a good idea. I’m leaving”, You saw the quinjet door closing up. All you could do was to glare at Bucky as you stashed yourself in one of the sleeping bunkers, to change in.

Torres update you on the Flag smashers and on their connections across Eastern and Central Europe. He also mentioned that they were strong, agile and beastly. It didn’t take you time to put the pieces in together. How did they get hold of they get hold of it? Who else has access to the serum? Almost everyone you knew were dead or too old like Bucky. You were sure that you tracked down all the Hydra bases in the past five years, destroyed them and turned in almost each and every person associated in your list.  

Your head was pounding already. Who would have done this? You had taken advantage of the fact that the government that had been unified all over the world after the snap and had heavily relied on the Avengers. You made sure that you striked off everyone on your checklist. You were an assassin and spy Afterall. After all the things that they did and made you to do during your first few years of your life, they deserved it. You were handled guns and knives, instead of toys and puzzles to play.

Scrambling your thoughts, you knew what to focus upon getting hold of the serum to create medicines to outbreaks and diseases, just like how you had done before. You had to contact Fury regarding this.

“How much more time left to reach the lower drop zone Torres?” “Five minutes L/N.” Alright. You got all set up and walked out to the opening, strapping in the parachute. “I’ll see y’all in the rendezvous point.”

No one had to know but you still did it because, it had been a while. Once you were sure that no one could track you down after scanning the perimeter, you spread out your arms concentrated feeling the energy grow at the center. You could feel the specks of bursts, creating a halo energy surrounding your body. It made you feel better, stronger. It had been forever, ever-since you used it months ago.

You made sure that the energy veiled you, making you invisible as you landed down as quietly as possible using the energy from the chute that you had worn.

“Where were you all this time? I thought that you were here, already”, Sam questioned. “You look all fresh and crisp.”, It was more of a statement than a question. You gave him a questioning look and proceeded forward, following him.

“I got and vibration arm. I can take them.”, “And I can fly. Who gives a shit? Wait.” You wanted to laugh at their banter. “Can you both not talk for a moment and look out instead. We’re out numbered, if they are all super soldiers.”

“There’s an eighth person. I think they have a hostage.”

All three of you started chasing down, the trucks but they were not doing anything to stop you both and Sam who was way ahead.

“James, Sam, I think this is a trap, they’re not stopping us.” You ran picking up your speed with Bucky. “They have a hostage in there, Y/N. We got to rescue them.”

“James, we are literally running right into the open fire and they’re not even bothered to stop us, don’t you get it?”, He instead picked up speed getting into the truck where the hostage was. They still did not fire back at him, What the hell had this idiot gotten himself into?

This was like taking care of a two-year-old kid, wandering off into supermarket alleys.

“James, you idiot.”

You saw him swearing and being pulled up by people. You jumped on the truck with a thud, as he was struggling in by. Why was he even struggling in the first place? You needed to have your brain shut off. You saw them being tossed around like bags of flour from one truck to another.

You saw the girl approaching you, trying to hit you with a high blow as you dodged her blow and next thing that you found was you were lying on your stomach with the girl holding you down tightly. You were getting slow, before you knew you had a split lip, with metallic taste filling your mouth.

Pulling out your ankles, you pushed your body to your front creating gap in between, aiming at the girl’s stomach. Kicking the girl, she flung right onto the man approaching, knocking him down. Charging yourself at the men holding in Sam, you blocked their high blows yet again, charging at their vulnerable side, knocking him out of breath. You were controlling yourself as you did not want to use all your strength, killing him.  

“Looks like you guys could use some help.” , You heard someone yell as Sam was flung against the other super soldier holding him down. You kicked right at his abdomen knocking the guy out. Sam had amused look on his face. Bucky was holding the shield as if bounced off the target, seeing the shield once Steve held. Walker was putting up an impressive fight, against the flag smashers.

They were super soldiers; the U.S. Agent and Hoskins had no chance against them. Either of them was going to be severely injured. As Bucky was holding to one of the metal appendages, Sam signaled you to get off the vehicle, saying that he would handle Bucky. The next thing that you knew was, the U.S. Agent was being kicked off the roof. That was probably going to hurt. You had no reason to stay back, you jumped off the vehicle, with Bucky and Sam bickering all over again.

 You started walking down the as John Walker joined in. He was trying to make amends to form a group. You always knew where this would lead to. You thought that you were one of those people who never judged anyone, but here you were judging the man who looked like Steve. Him legitimately telling on hacking redwing and on how was indirectly showing his authority.

No wonder it was malfunctioning, whenever the military were repairing it.

The government had had a good PR for putting up a show like this, with Battlestar as Captain America’s black side kick.

U.S Agent was good, but based on his biography, he always had been in power. Unlike Steve, who was a scrawny little kid from Brooklyn as, Bucky would describe.

Good lord, stop comparing them.

U.S Agent was not enhanced, but he was ready to throw off the shield to save his friend’s life. He was a normal person and it was impressive seeing him fight and put up. You had no right to judge him but you were waiting for him to see his real side, once he was under pressure. This was just the beginning.

“It’d be a whole lot easier, if I had Cap’s wingmen on my side.”

Him calling both Bucky and Sam as Captain’s sidekicks, infuriated you more.  Neither Sam nor Bucky were Steve’s sidekick, they gave more priority to Steve and helped him out during hardest times. Something that no one would ever understand.  Steve always was dead-set on what he thought was right. It was never about him being Captain America and his authority.

“It is always that last line.” Sam was obviously heart broken. He scoffed as he got down, walking away.

“You had put up an impressive fight up there, Agent. There is one thing I would like to tell you is that, we’re all still grieving over Steve and you show up here, trying to make amends. No offense, it is not gonna work like that and for Falcon and the winter soldier, were never Captain America’s sidekicks.” You got off the van as you explained, it was not their fault.

“Agent L/N, mam, that was never our intention, I understand, it’s just that it would be better if we all fought together.” He was flipping around the situation. Why wouldn’t he understand. “Thanks for the ride, Agent.”, You started walking away. You were getting late.

“So, where are we going to eat? I’m hungry.” You signaled both Bucky and Sam to look at you as you communicated through sign-language, ‘You mentioned during all your missions that redwing was acting up. I think it is because they were trying to record. Manipulating a drone to transmit signal to more than one area, would make it all glitchy. They are tracking everything as we speak Sam, how did they know what you and Bucky were taking about.’

Both nodded in agreement. “Now common guys, where are we going now? Make up your mind.”

“I don’t know Y/N, it’s Bucky’s reign tonight, so he gets to choose.”, Sam was using sign language simultaneously signaling you that you would have to make him a new one again. Sign-language was something that you used often when you were on run, after the accords happened.

“I can’t believe you are saying this but whatever, I don’t care. I want to eat in all that greasy food,” You signaled him back saying back, ‘Don’t worry about it, I’ll take care.’

“No, I want to have spicy food in Indian restaurant, that is down the block, to the second right from the airport. No arguing.”, He eyes popped up, when he was signaling back, saying, ‘I’ll help you out, let me know.’

“Apparently, I’m going to sleep now, I’m exhausted.”, all three of you strolled around looking for the trackers and bugs finding, none. Once they were seated, you placed yourself behind the equipment’s box and laid out your palm as invisible energy grew out, scanning over the quinjet again. Finding one bug on the border of the floor, too camouflaged to notice. You showed it to them and stashed it into the equipment box.

Both Bucky and Sam had puzzled look on face but didn’t say anything. They were in midst of arguing on taking back the shield and so on. You would never understand, how tough it would be on them seeing someone else representing, what Steve had represented before. Bucky mentioned that they had to meet someone before.

“We are here to see Isiah.”, You all stood Infront of the porch of a small house that reminded you of Clint’s house. Apparently, Clint’s and Sarah’s houses were they only ones you properly knew about, a quiet life like this was what you always wanted.

“Tell him the guy from the bar in Goyang is here. He’ll know what that means.”, realization hit you like a ton of bricks. He was the Captain America, who was the most feared by HYDRA. “Bucky, --”, “I’ve to do this Y/N, just don’t interrupt in between. This is really important.”, He maintained eye-contact with you for solid five seconds, letting you know that he was sure.

“Isiah?”

Bucky introduced both of us to Isiah, it was awkward to say in the least. Seeing this legend in person was more intimidating that you ever thought that it would be.

“If by met, you mean I whopped your ass, then, yeah. We heard whispers he was on the peninsula, but everyone they sent after him, never came back. So, the U.S. military dropped me behind the line to go deal with him. I took half that metal arm in that fight in Goyang, but I see he’s managed to grow it back. I just wanted to see if he got the arm back. Or if he’d come to kill me.”

“I’m not a killer anymore.”, Bucky responded in certainty.

“You think you can wake up one day and decide who you want to be? It doesn’t work like that. Well, maybe it does for folks like you.” How could he say that?

“Do you really think that he did any of this under full conscious? How can you say that?”, you were in disbelief. Isiah looked at you but did not bother to respond back. You knew that you had to keep your mouth shut, to get work done here. Bucky tried explaining out to him on how there were super soldiers all over now.

“You and me.”, Isiah scoffed. You could visibly see the man tense up, as Bucky probed in.

“I’m not gonna talk about it anymore.”, he flung the metal box as it stuck to the wall across him. You were scared to be honest. You were seeing the legend right Infront of you. The confrontation had grown larger, resulting in kicking all of you outside the house.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Isaiah? How could nobody bring him up? I asked you a question, Bucky.”, you held your head low as you three walked down the road.

“Bucky, why didn’t you tell me beforehand that we were going to meet Isiah!”, Sam asked him further to gain insight.

“So, you’re telling me that there was a black Super Soldier decades ago and nobody knew about it?”, Sam asked in disbelief, as you heard sirens blaring.

“What’s up, man?”, Sam was confused

“Is there a problem here?”, police were enquiring. You knew where this would lead to. “No, we’re just talking.”, Sam explained back.

“We’re fine.”, Bucky assured them.

“Can I see both your IDs?”, the officer said pointing out both at Sam and you.

“I don’t have ID. Why?”, the officer kept picking up on Sam and you as he approached you.

“Give him your ID so we can leave.” You’ve got to be fucking kidding me

“No.” both of us simultaneously responded back. Not today. You were tired of being treated this way. People calling out as you walked down the streets, yelling you to go back to your own country. This was the real world. You realised that privilege was a real thing because, this was one of the closest encounters that you ever had.

Next thing that you knew was Bucky was being arrested for skipping the therapy.  You were drained at this point.

“Hey you okay?”, Sam asked looking concerned.

“I am, I am.”, you replied. “I’m sorry Sam. I’m really sorry that I misjudged your actions when you gave up the shield. I only looked from Steve’s and Bucky’s perspective, I’m really sorry. Having first-hand encounter up this close.” you hugged him before he could say anything, not wanting him to see you cry.

“I-I’m sorry I have not been truthful to you. I knew that Isiah was a legend, he was HYDRA’s most feared. I honestly even thought about him coming and destroying the base I was living so that, I could end up things for once and all. I’m sorry that I didn’t talk about a lot of things.”, you didn’t deserve him, you never told him about your powers all these years, it was time for you to.

“Hey- Hey, look at me. Its okay. Everything is going to be okay. I forgive you. I’m not Goody in two shoes either, I shouldn’t have avoided you.”, he said holding you by your face as warmth radiated off his skin. He shoed his toothy grin at you, but you had to tell him.

“Sam, I-I’ve to tell you something,” as he held you by your shoulder. “Look we will handle it once we get Bucky out okay?” Okay, then this had to wait.

It was John walker again. He was the one who bailed out Bucky. Honestly, seeing him everywhere was getting on your nerves. There he was back again ordering you both to come and meet him along with Bucky once the session was over.

Dr. Raynor told you to wait outside, as she ordered Sam to join in the session. You knew how it was going to be, you had couples therapy with Bucky before, it was not the greatest but he opened up to you even more. Or if that was what you thought, it’d be.

You never knew that meeting up with some random guy whom you never knew before, would irk you out so much. He again tried broach in, on how it would be better if we were a team. Not happening. Bucky, baited and Sam tried convincing him and politely told off on how they would not workout.

“A word of advice, then. Stay the hell out of my way.”, you almost smirked at him. This aspect of yours always felt sadistic to you. He was in a lot of pressure but he helped bailing out Bucky. You were grateful, at the same time.

You three walked out of the restaurant, finding out that the Flag smashers had indeed escaped. “Well, I know what we have to do. When Isaiah said ‘my people’, he meant HYDRA and I know who to meet.” Bucky sighed.

Sam disagreed,” Why don’t we bring in Wanda?”, he hadn’t known what had happened to Wanda.

“Sam, Bucky, Wanda is not in any state to help us. S-She.”, how will you reveal this to them now? It was your fault for not telling them any sooner.

We should have asked Wanda back during 2016, before Zemo was put into prison.” You were getting nervous to tell them the truth.

“Y/N, what is it?”, Sam probed in. This is not going to end well. Shit. You took them to an alley and scanned around with invisible ripples of energy radiating out, to find out nothing suspicious.

“Uh- Wanda was grieving over Vision and she used her sub-conscious to create alternate reality.”, you waited but they were more confused.

“I came to know when FBI Agent Jimmy Woo contacted me and they soon found out that she created a border using Cosmic Microwave background radiation and somehow wiped-out memories of the town existing amongst the other surrounding town.”, you didn’t want to talk about it, but you had to.

“But how did they know it was her?”, Bucky asked.

“They didn’t. I did, CMBR is the radiation that existed when the universe was first created, meaning it was from one of the infinity stones. Wanda is a direct source of this energy.”, you explained feeling more nervous.

“I straight away contacted Pietro and Strange to come over so that we could just solve it ourselves. Unfortunately, both Pietro and me got pulled in by the Hex and we somehow managed pull to get out Wanda.”, You didn’t want to tell them about Agatha, how you were pulled into 50s out of nowhere, thank god you had called Wong and Dr. Strange assisted into helping to get rid of Agatha. Wanda’s mind control was one of the most terrifying things, than that of HYDRA.

“Long story short, she’s safe now. Under Dr. Strange’s assistance she is attending therapy sessions and she has her brother on her side. I’m afraid that she cannot help us.”, you looked down at your shoes.

“Are you kidding me Y/N? You could’ve told anyone of us about this. We could’ve helped you.”, Sam told in disbelief.

“No, you can’t. Both of you can’t. it’s not possible. She was not even herself. Wanda morally stopped using mind control after Sokovia happened. She knew how it impacted us. Strange had told her that she was losing her own conscious and that she was using chaos magic.”, you sensed someone coming over. “Someone’s coming over. We need to leave now.”

“but I don’t hear anyone.”, Bucky chimed in and stopped once he heard footsteps.

“So, were going to see Zemo again.”, Sam told being all quiet again. Both needed some time, you had to wait now.

Next part

[atinytokki]

Walking in the Darkness

i. Kang Estate

“No, Mr. Yuma, my good sir. I’m afraid you are incorrect. While the latitude hook is the basic principle for most navigational tools, the astrolabe additionally relies on gravity so that you can calculate your position without seeing the horizon.”

Yeosang clucked his tongue gently at Mr. Yuma and promptly returned his nose to his book. The horse let out a content whinny from where he rested across from his human. “I’m glad you seem to remember now, Mr. Yuma,” Yeosang smiled at his companion, the horse staring back eagerly. “Now I have to catch up on calculating relative longitude. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that would you?”

Yeosang sighed and regarded his horse, who had begun chewing on the post of his stall. Yeosang’s eyes went wide and he rushed to grab Mr. Yuma’s harness and pull him back, pages of schoolwork flying. “Yuma!” He scolded, grasping the horse’s face and shaking it from side to side. “You’ll damage the wood and get it stuck in your teeth and I’ll get in trouble for it.”

Yuma let out a frustrated whinny and nosed Yeosang in the chest. Yeosang frowned. “You want to go out?” He didn’t expect a real answer, but it got him thinking once the question was out in the air. “If I don’t finish my assignment, you know I’ll get in trouble with Father.”

Yuma made a huffing sound and nuzzled Yeosang’s face. Yeosang giggled at the sensation and pushed the long snout away. That was all it took to convince him. “Alright, alright. A quick jaunt and we come back so I can finish.”

Without even saddling his steed up, Yeosang opened the stall gate and swung himself onto Yuma’s back, urging him on out of the stables and towards the forest.

It took only a gentle squeeze with his thighs into the horse’s side and Yuma knew which way to go. 

The grove wasn’t far from the Kang Family Estate, and Yeosang took to the wooded hills frequently for his stolen moments of tranquility and relative solitude. Relative because he had somehow acquired a number of animal friends.

Yeosang wasn’t sure what it was that attracted them, surely the host of creatures living in a wild area would flee from hoofbeats and humans, but at some point in time they had begun to emerge. 

They had no quarrel with Yeosang and Yuma once it was clear that they meant no harm, and day by day the two became engrained in the landscape, just two more creatures playing their parts in the symbiotic chain of forest life. 

Yeosang found solace in the birds, the butterflies, the deer, and even the occasional fox. He had never fit in at the schoolhouse, and sometimes the other boys said things to him that made him consider running away to this wooded paradise forever.

To the other students, Yeosang was an outcast for any number of reasons. They called him privileged pet, or damaged, or weak, or ugly. Yeosang raised an unconscious hand to the birthmark near his left eye. A few weeks ago, one of the bullies had poked at it and asked why he didn’t wash it away like the blemish it was. 

Yeosang sighed and dismounted, leading Yuma the rest of the way to the sunny little clearing where he usually lazed the afternoon away. 

It was hard enough to be poked and prodded and insulted for his looks. But there was one name that no one would dare call him to his face, though he knew it always circulated behind his back. 

Mother-killer.

It choked Yeosang just to think about it. 

No matter the lengths his father went to convince him it wasn’t his fault, the burdensome load of survivor’s guilt followed Yeosang everywhere.

His mother had died giving birth to him, and he had never known her. When his older sister was born, there were no complications. When Yeosang was born, despite the care of some of the best physicians in the country, his mother descended into a fit of convulsions and died a shocking death.

There was no evidence that anything was wrong with Yeosang, or that he had somehow caused his mother’s death. But people will talk.

Before the memory made Yeosang sick, he settled down in the grass and bid Yuma follow. 

A small bird flew across the clearing towards them and settled on a branch near Yeosang’s head.

“Hello, Mr. Bluebird. What shall we play today?”

Eventually, he decided on playing king.

Yeosang had never met the royal family, but his father had. It was one of many special opportunities the Head Navigator of the Royal Navy was afforded, and Yeosang loved to hear about it. 

“I’ll be king of all the forest animals, and the wood spirits and fairies. What should my first command be?” 

A rabbit emerged from his burrow. 

“What do you think, Mr. Rabbit?” Yeosang smiled at the soft creature before gasping in excitement. “Oh, I know! Let’s play war!”

For the next few hours, that is what he did. Swinging his stick around from atop his valiant steed, beheading imaginary enemies left and right until he tired of combat and went to lay by the stream and watch the clouds pass overhead.

The tolling of bells shook him from his daydream. The sun sat on the horizon, only a few minutes away from dipping beneath it, and Yeosang knew he had been gone too long. 

He made his farewells and mounted Yuma, headed towards home and the clanging of the bells. As he neared the town, it became clear why the bells were pealing so vigorously. A regiment of Navy soldiers marched through the square, bringing a prisoner with them. 

Even atop his horse, Yeosang had difficulty seeing through the crowd that had formed. He heard nervous whispers passed from person to person, and strained to hear them.

“It’s just a bandit from the south, what’s all the fuss?”

“Why would a lowly bandit need a Navy escort? Surely this is an infamous pirate.”

“Not just any pirate! That’s the Dread Pirate Eden!”

“Eden this far inland? And travelling north, from the looks of it?”

“I’ve seen the wanted posters. It’s Captain Eden, I’d bet my prize cow.”

“Was he caught here in town? Good heavens! Are our children safe?”

“You there!”

Yeosang startled before identifying the man who was addressing him. It was a commoner in the crowd who had spied the Navigator’s son on his horse.

“Go home. Nothing to see here.”

Yeosang nodded slowly and nudged Yuma to turn around and head for home. He wasn’t sure to what extent he could trust the gossip of the townspeople, but if they were correct...

A shiver went down Yeosang’s spine.

The dread pirate Eden— in his town.

The Kang Family Estate was a short ride from the town centre, and it was a beautiful well-kept mansion with equally well-kept grounds and gardens. 

As Yeosang returned Yuma to his stall and picked up his wrinkled school pages off the ground, he heard a throat being cleared from the doorway.

It was Housekeeper Sohyun.

“Out riding in the woods, are we?”

Yeosang nodded wordlessly. There was no way around the truth. Clearly he had been out riding in the woods. Sohyun had probably seen him returning. 

“Well, come on inside. Your father wants to speak with you.”

Yeosang suppressed a groan and followed her inside, with a glance at the content Yuma, free at least from overbearing parents in his stall. 

Navigator Kang knew Yeosang frequently disappeared for hours on end, but never pushed him to explain why or where he was going. That much Yeosang appreciated. Which made this conversation all the more puzzling.

“Yeosang!” His father looked up from his books as soon as they entered the library. “Have you finished the work I assigned you?”

Straight for the kill. 

“Not quite,” Yeosang admitted as soon as Sohyun had left them and closed the door behind her. He looked down at the pages in his hand. “I completed all the latitude exercises, but longitude... I’m just struggling with it. It doesn’t make sense.”

Yeosang was ashamed to admit this, even when there were only the two of them in the room. His father had very high expectations for him to follow in his footsteps, and Yeosang truly wanted to live up to and exceed those expectations. Navigating the distant Eastern seas was his dream for as long as he could remember, and his father had taught him the essentials on the side of his regular schoolwork.

But sometimes Yeosang hit a roadblock, and wasn’t sure he was cut out for the position.

“Come, let me have a look.” 

Yeosang proceeded to the large oak desk where his father sat, and lay the papers in front of him, peeping over his shoulder to watch him as he explained how to solve the problem. 

They were interrupted by a knock on the door. 

“Come in.”

It was Sohyun, with a nervous expression on her face. “Soldiers have come to the house, sir. And an Admiral Kim would like to speak with you privately.”

Yeosang’s jaw dropped. 

It was the men from the town, he was sure of it. 

“Very well, thank you.” Yeosang’s father turned and smiled at him tiredly. “I’m quite sure it’s just a business meeting. You remember our goal for next year, don’t you?”

“Applications for apprenticeship,” Yeosang answered, taking his papers back as they were handed to him. 

“That’s correct. I’d like you to continue working towards that goal, in the event that I must leave for a voyage.”

Yeosang couldn’t keep the frown off his face. He hated when his father left him alone in this squeaky clean, echoey house.

“Now, now, why the frown? I’m sure it won’t be anything severe. And perhaps I’ll leave you the key to the observatory, if I can trust you with that.”

That perked Yeosang up. The observatory was his favourite place on the grounds, and every visit his father allowed him was a treat.

Obediently, he left for his own bed chambers, but not without a glare over the balustrade at the small gathering of soldiers in the main hall. Soldiers in the house were always bad news.

A couple of hours of work later, Sohyun came in with the evening meal and the news that the Admiral and his men were still here and it would be best to remain in his room.

Yeosang had no objection to this, although after both the food and the work were finished, he was beginning to be bored. 

What a shame to be hidden away in his bedchambers when the most notorious criminal of the era was only a quick horseback ride away, and the Admiral himself was in your mansion.

Yeosang slipped out of his chambers and quietly made his way back to the front staircase, curling up at the balcony and listening intently to the hushed conversation below.

“Whatever it was they said about him having no ties was clearly wrong. He’s back because he has a child to take care of.”

They were talking about the pirate.

Another voice countered the first, “There’s no proof of that! How do you know he wasn’t travelling north to recruit or something else?”

“He’s been seen multiple times with a young boy!” The first shot back with the evidence. “If he meant to recruit him, he would do it and then sail away again. But he returns frequently to this beach to meet this child— so I think it’s his son.”

“Eden settling down and having children!” Laughter broke out below. “Never something I imagined.”

Yeosang had to agree. Piracy didn’t seem like the type of lifestyle that was conducive to domesticity and, well, childrearing. Pirates even having children seemed ludicrous when faced with the vicious barbarians that pirates were reported to be. 

Yeosang shivered with excitement. This was turning out to be quite exciting. 

“And what’s more, I hear the Admiral is going to, well, compel the loathsome rat to reveal the location of his ship and his scumbag crew members. That’s why we’re here, to get the Head Navigator to help.”

“Oh, I thought we were here to hang the pirate savage.”

“No, you insufferable ninny. Why would we come all the way here just to kill him? We could have his whole crew.”

Yeosang’s smile was gone. So they were bringing Father with them on a voyage. He shuffled back to his chambers, unhappy with the new developments. 

Two hours after his bedtime had come and gone, he was sitting at the window seat with his astrolabe when his father entered. 

He was holding the observatory key.

Silently, Yeosang stood to accept it. “How long will you be gone?” He whispered, turning the key over in his hands and refusing to meet his father’s eye.

“I don’t know.” 

Yeosang struggled to stop a tear from leaving his eye, and it defied him by slipping down his face anyway. He remained silent as it dripped to the floor.

His father pulled him in to his arms, resting a protective hand on his hair. “You’ll be alright while I’m gone, won’t you?”

Yeosang nodded against his father’s chest. He would have to be alright.

“I’ll come back to you as soon as I can. I’m promising you. But in the meantime, you’re the man of the house. I know you’ll make me proud.”

Again Yeosang nodded. He had managed before, and he could do it again. 

“I’ll write your sister to make sure she’s nearby should anything happen,” his father said after a pause and began to pull away. Yeosang scrubbed away furiously at the evidence of tears and straightened. That was at least a comfort. Yeosang’s older sister was married and lived in a neighbouring town, but she could handle matters of the estate that Yeosang could not at twelve years old.

“Until next time?” 

His father smiled sadly at him until he nodded and repeated, “Until next time.”

Yeosang fell asleep clutching the observatory key. The key itself was a promise, and Yeosang intended to keep his side.

...

A/N: Yep I’m late and it’s all because I was up last night writing theories and not posting this  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ what can you do.  So just a quick heads up, this one is gonna be a bit sadder and darker than the others (as you maybe can already tell) because I’ll reference you back to All to Zero ch. 12 when Yeosang makes it clear why he doesn’t end up in the Navy.  The boy has seen things. And this is the backstory in which those things happen so, be warned! Some time in the next few weeks, a new chapter for the main series and don’t forget voting is open! Thanks so much for reading, please leave a like and a reblog and a comment if you enjoyed <3 TTFN~

Summary | Masterlist | Next  →

[yuto-non]

The Photo (M)

Pairing: Kim Yugyeom x Reader

Word Count: 4.1k (I’m sorry)

Warnings: Dom!Yugyeom, situations without obvious consent, bad writing, too much plot I’m sorry I can’t stop

Summary: You and your friend manage to get tickets to see Got7 perform. Even better, you get tickets to meet the band.

A/n: First off, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I love stories with multiple parts. I’m sorry I’ve never written a fic yet that has an actual entire sex scene and I’m sorry I LOVE PLOT. I can’t stand fics that skip right to the meat. I need a little background here. SO I’M SORRY, SUE ME.

You thought buying tickets was the stressful part. Waking up early, setting up any and every machine that could access the internet. You had even enlisted the help of your friends to sit and wait online for the tickets to drop, crossing every finger and toe and wishing upon a star that you or one of your friends would be lucky enough to nab two tickets. Thankfully, to some higher entity, you were lucky enough, and managed to get two tickets to see Got7 live. You were even more than lucky though, you were one of the luckiest, as you managed to get you and your friend VIP package tickets to meet the band, get a signed poster, and a photo with the members. Only a select few tickets had this benefit, and the painful number deducted from your bank account showed you were one of them.

That experience should've been the most stressful, since the tickets sold out in only a few minutes..but here you were, trying on your millionth outfit of the night. You had seen other bands live, sure, but Got7 was your ultimate everything, and you were going to meet them! Ideas swirled in your head, endless scenarios were being made up. You knew none of these would come to fruition, but just in case they did..you needed to look your best. Your ideas got carried away as you tried on another outfit and let out a sigh in dismay. Nothing was what you wanted. While what you wanted wasn't really known, no outfit was making you happy. The nerves were jumbling up your thought process and confidence, but time was running out, as evident by your phone buzzing.

"Come on! Get over here, we need to get going! Got7 baby!" Your friends voice shrieked in excitement through the phone. You groaned back in response, as you checked yourself out in the mirror, hoping to see something you were satisfied with. You were not met with satisfaction, but more disappointment without surprise.

“Yea, I’ll be right over.” You hung up the phone before your friend could make another peep, and turned back to the mirror. You smoothed out your shirt and took in your appearance. A pair of slim fitting ripped black jeans paired with a black and white striped shirt was your choice for the night. Your hair was straightened and tucked neatly behind your ear. You didn’t want to look like you had just spent three hours trying to look your best, so you settled on this look. You grabbed your backpack and headed to your car to pick up your friend.

Your nerves bubbled up inside you the entire drive, filling the car with Got7 music in hopes of drowning out your anxiety. What if they spoke to you? Of course they’ll speak to you. What do you say? And do you shake their hands? Do you just wave? There were too many questions, too many dreams, hopes, and realities all making their way into your head while you drove.  You never thought you would feel so much relief as you did when you saw your friend excitedly make her way down her driveway to fling herself into your car. “Finally! You’re here! Let’s go, the boys are waiting!” Her voice was filled with thrill and she looked perfect, as usual. Having your friend finally with you helped, yes, it helped take some of the stress off, but it also did nothing for your self confidence. You didn’t say much, just nodded and focused on driving. The less you looked at your friend and the less you realized how nervous you were, the better.

The drive was once again just filled with music, with the addition of your overly exuberant friend. You wanted to let loose and enjoy the night like she was going to do, but in just a few mere hours, you were going to meet seven of the most important men in your life, one of them being Jinyoung himself. Park Jinyoung, the man who you were convinced held your heart and all of your emotions in the palm of his hands. You had watched endless fan cams, interviews, and V-lives. Jinyoung, with his sweet smile, caring personality, but also his feisty attitude when pushed. Jinyoung was the one making you this type of nervous, and knowing you’d soon be so close to him just make you double guess everything you had thought this night would be.

Before you could make anymore ridiculous situations play out in your head, you pulled your car into a parking spot in the deck at the venue. Your friend turned to you, still very much pumped for the night ahead. You needed to relax, you were here to enjoy the night, listen to music, and watch Got7, whom you’ve watched many times behind a screen, LIVE. Your friend grabbed your hand and kissed it, in a show of support. “I can tell you’re nervous, don’t be. Just enjoy the night and let whatever happens, happen.”

You nodded in response, and took a deep breath. She was right, you knew she was right, and you needed to let go. Jinyoung wouldn’t want you so nervous, anyway. You both stepped out of the car, and made your way through the crisp air to the venue doors. The doors weren’t opened just yet, as the staff made their way down the lines, assigning people to certain areas and giving out special wrist bands according to your section. When you and your friends wrists were adorned with the shiny lime green bracelet, indicating you had the best seats with the best benefits, you made your way to your special waiting area, along with the small amount of others lucky enough. You all started to talk, sharing biases, favorite songs, and discussing everything k-pop related. It was always nice to converse with people whom had the same interests as you, but there was one interest you did not want to share at this very moment. Park Jinyoung.

While discussing everything Got7, one of the other lucky fans spilled that Jinyoung was the man she was really here to meet. Normally, you love talking to others who love Jinyoung as much as you, but not today. During the group photo, you all got to stand with one member, seven fans per photo. What if this girl tried to be next to Jinyoung? This was not even a scenario that you had run through, even though you had made up millions. You had dreamed over and over of having a photo of you standing with Jinyoung, and now the nerves crept back up as you started to realize that may not happen. When the fact that Jinyoung was your bias of Got7 fell from your lips, the look the girl shot you was proof enough that this group photo was not going to be the easiest point of the night. “Well, maybe we will be in different group photos!” You said, hoping this would be the way to diffuse the anxiety the situation was creating. The other girl agreed with a weak smile, and turned back to her small group of friends. You could only hope you were right, as there seemed to be tension growing between the two of you without even trying.

While you sat in a spot of torture in your head, the doors opened. There was no need to rush, as seats were assigned, and benefits happened in an organized manner. Your friend and yourself began to navigate your way through the crowd to your seats, just awaiting the call to go backstage and meet the band.

“I can’t believe we are here..” Your friend looked around in awe, a ray of light sticks sweeping over the expanse of the crowd.

“I know, I’m so nervous, I’m glad you’re here.” You struggled to get the words out as you took your own look around the huge area. Knowing in just a few moments, you’d be back stage with Got7, whom you would then watch fill this arena with music and laughter, the thought just tortured you with excitement. Your friend laughed at your adorable nerves, and squeezed your arm. You were nervous, but you were so excited, and that feeling doubled into your stomach doing flips when you heard the call.

“Everyone with a lime green bracelet, please line up!” The voice shattered through your reality, and sent you and your friend to your feet in milliseconds, racing to the line. You found yourself close to the other Jinyoung bias, but you couldn’t quite work out the math to figure if she would be in your photo or not, so you settled on some advice given to you earlier in the night. Just, let things happen as they happen, you told yourself. The announcer went over rules. No talking for long periods, just talk to each member for a moment and move down the line. For the photo, everyone had a few moments to choose where to stand, but if there were any arguments, the order would be chosen by staff. You all awaited through the rules with eager smile and nods, just wanting to break past the announcer and into the room where Got7 was waiting.

Then, the time arrived. The door swung opened, and you were all slowly filed in, but were stopped strictly at seven. You fidgeted more with your bracelet, tapping your feet and squealing in excitement with your friend. All of your pent up anxiety morphed into fits of excitement and anticipation. Just behind those doors in front of you, was seven men you had been waiting for what seemed like forever to meet. You knew behind those doors, the seven lucky fans were talking to them, hugging them, taking photos, and enjoying their presence while they could. Painfully slowly, the door opened to shuffle seven more fans in, and after waiting for what you were certain was years, your turn was next. You looked ahead of you and counted heads.

Fuck. You were the seventh fan, and the third was none other than the other Jinyoung fan. It felt as though a dark cloud was trying to push out the sunshine you had put in your head during the wait to enter the room, but you were determined to fight off the rain cloud and continue to have a great night, despite the fact that you were about to enter a mental war zone with the other Jinyoung fan.

Just as you were plotting an impossible disappearing act of the other fan, the announcer motioned for the next seven fans to file in. Your heart almost stopped as your stomach flipped over and butterflies released to every single part of your body. You were about to walk through those doors, and see them. The time was now, there was no turning back. You grabbed your friends hand and shot her an ear to ear smile as your feet took over and walked forward, through the dark doors.

You stepped through the door, and turned your head to see the seven members, waving gleefully. They were painfully unaware of the absolute torture you had been putting yourself through. You could barely muster a smile, as you were struck with awe at how beautiful they all looked in person. It’s as if they all just glowed, they wore the most perfect outfits, nothing as unfortunate as yours, and looked as though angels themselves had graced each of their cheeks with kisses from heaven.

“Hello Baby Birds!” Bambam spoke up, looking as effervescent as usual. All seven of you internally screamed and waved back as you approached the members, going down the line and greeting them all. You were at the back of the line, and looked forward to all of the members, scanning them individually until your eyes found their resting place: Park Jinyoung. He looked so perfect, always looked as though you could just take him right home to meet the parents. His shirt was neatly tucked in, all the buttons on his shirt were buttoned right up, and his hair fell into a perfect style. When the other Jinyoung fan made her way to him, he grabbed her hands and smiled at her as he spoke. You couldn’t make out what was being said over the sound of all the chattering and laughing, but you were living in absolute jealousy as you made your way slowly forward. As you awaited your turn, you took the time to look at the other members. Youngjae looked like such a teddy bear, with his round face and fluffy hair. He looked so engrossed in the conversation he was having with the fan in front of him, you couldn’t help but smile as the genuine nature of the members and meeting their fans. You looked over to Jackson, who was laughing, as usual, and teasing Bambam, making the two girls in front of them laugh at their ways. As your eyes made their way down the line, you couldn’t help but stop your gaze onto Kim Yugyeom. His legs looked absolutely perfect in the fitted black jeans, and his hair looked so soft, falling in front of his eyes in the most perfect way. You continued your eye assault over every inch of Yugyeom’s body. He just screamed confidence. As your eyes raked upwards from his legs once again, you were met with a jolt through your body. Yugyeom’s eyes were locked directly onto yours, and an evil smirk appeared on his face as he took your appearance in himself, returning the assault. You felt a surge of excitement run through your body. Were you imagining things or was Kim Yugyeom flirting with you?

Finally, you were up to meet the band. Your first member was Mark. Mark looked like classic mark. His face was decorated with his big smile, and he grabbed your hands once you were in front of him. “How are you today? Thank you so much for coming!” Mark spoke to you. It was real. You weren’t as nervous as you thought you’d be, and it felt like.

“I’m great! Thank YOU for coming! I am so excited for your show!” You beamed back to mark, who bowed his head to you. You both continued to exchange small words, laughing while the other members teased Mark about wanting to go home, while Mark spat back to them. You loved how they all interacted, and it was so fun seeing it happen right before your eyes. You moved down the line to Jackson and Bambam, who might as well be one person. Bambam pulled you into a hug, while Jackson mercilessly teased Bambam and every thing he did. You continued to laugh along with them, but couldn’t shake a feeling of being watched. You looked down the line during a moment where Bambam had Jackson hiding behind JB for safety. Yugyeom. There he was. His eyes danced all along your body, not being shy at all as he looked into your eyes and sent your body crashing into a wave of sparks. Just the way he looked at you without shame, not trying to hide the fact that he was undressing you with his eyes. Of course, the chaos that surrounded him, allowed him to get away with the assaults his eyes were giving you. You shifted slightly uncomfortably at the outward directness of Yugyeom’s stare, and continued to move down the members. Park Jinyoung was next, and you could feel the anxiety start back again. Jinyoung waved to you as you approached, and you could feel your body begin to shake in anticipation.

Park Jinyoung looked even more perfect in person. He shook his head to move his hair from his eyes, and beamed over at you. “Hello! How are you today? You look wonderful!” Jinyoung commented on your appearance!? In a positive manner?! Your knees buckled, and words were hard to find as you blurted out a thank you, bowing your head to show appreciation. Jinyoung squeezed your hands and moved his head down some to meet your eyes. “You look nervous.”

Understatement of the year by Jinyoung, but the fact that he noticed was sweet. You shrugged a bit, trying to laugh off the obvious nerves exuding from your body. And then, Jinyoung brought you in and wrapped his arms around you. His body felt so firm and perfect close to yours. You could smell his sweet cologne, feel his hand wrap around your back, and your chin rest on his shoulder as though his shoulder was made for just that. He whispered something about not being nervous, but all you could hear was your heart beating in your ears. Time slowed down, and you felt as though the hug could last forever, until you were ripped away from his arms. A hand belonging to someone else had found its way around your arm, and pried you from Jinyoung’s grasp. You felt yourself peeling away from his body, and looked to see the culprit. Yugyeom. His eyes looked dark as he pulled you over to him. “Okay, don’t hog the fans, Jinyoung.” Yugyeom remarked. Jinyoung laughed it off, not sensing the seriousness of Yugyeom’s comment.

You found yourself face to face with Yugyeom, his hand still planted on your arm, holding you a little tighter than what would be considered normal. Your arm began to hurt a little as he bored his eyes into yours. Was anyone else noticing what was happening? No words were spoken as Yugyeom peered down at you. You could hear the other members talking among themselves, and you could hear your breathing speed up as Yugyeom’s hand released its grip and trailed down your arm gently, causing shivers to run down your arm. Part of you wanted to go back to Jinyoung, where it felt so natural and safe, but when you realized how thrilling and shocking your moments with Yugyeom were, your feet were planted. Your core was pounding. Your head was screaming. Yugyeom still said nothing, just stared at you as you felt your entire body bursting into flames. He had barely touched you, not breathed a word, and your core was screaming for contact. You tried your best to squeeze your legs together with no one noticing, just to get some sort of relief. Yugyeom smiled down at you before abruptly passing you down the line to the other members, who seemed completely un-phased.

Your throat was dry and your mind was racing as you tried to act as normal as possible while interacting with the remaining members. You could barely focus, trying to take peeks at Yugyeom from where you were, wishing you could race back to him. He had such power over you in such a short interaction, and you wanted to know what it meant. Why did he do that? He didn’t even speak to you? What was going on? You shook your head, trying to pretend you were listening to the other members as they spoke to you.

Your distraction was interrupted by the staff members talking, telling everyone to get themselves with a member for the photo. Your reaction set in, and you raced over to Jinyoung. You were met with the glare of the other Jinyoung fan, who also found herself directly next to the man. You both greeted each other in a show of niceties, before turning your heads to face Jinyoung. You were here for him, and you had been waiting ever since their announcement for the tour to be able to stand with him for a photo. You were not budging so easily. Your eyes begged Jinyoung and the girl in front of you, but the she was not budging. Your friend offered no help, as she was lost in space with Bambam. The staff pointed the both of you out. “You girls need to choose, or we will randomize everyone.”

You definitely did not want to ruin this for everyone, but why did you have to be the one to move? You wanted to be the stubborn one, and you weren’t going to back down. A little game of chicken never hurt anyone. No words were needed as you both just stared at one another. Just as you were about to win, you could see the crack on the girl, a hand once again wrapped around your arm. You winced in pain, as the hand found its way in the same spot as before, applying a decent amount of pressure. “I’ll take her.” Yugyeom? It couldn’t be, he had a fan already. You turned in his direction. The girl that was with him looked a little disappointed, you could only guess why, as Yugyeom dragged you back to his spot. All you could do now was watch the other Jinyoung fan rejoice in victory as your stood in front of Yugyeom. Sure, you were more than happy to be in a photo with Got7 at all, I mean, you were happy to even be at their show! You would be lying, though, if you said you weren’t a bit disappointed. You had dreamed of this day, worked yourself up in your head about meeting Jinyoung, taking a photo with him, and you watched it get dragged away...by Yugyeom.

The staff urged everyone to get ready for the photo, so you stood in front of Yugyeom, waiting for the queue for the photo. Yugyeom’s arm found its way around your waist, pulling you close. Your mouth dropped open when your ass made contact with his obviously hardening cock. You wanted to jump in surprise, make a scene of some sort, but you couldn’t draw attention to what was happening. Yugyeom’s arm pressed you further into him, and you swear you could hear the softest moan leave his lips and brush past your ear. His arm released some of his hold on you, and rested his hand on your hip, his other hand fitting into his pocket. You could feel his cock twitch some against you, and it took every inch of your body to not react on instinct and push back. The staff got into their position, and you tried your best to act normal, and not focus on the fact that Kim Yugyeom stood behind you with his cock growing against you. Your core had to be soaked at this point, as you once against rubbed your legs together to try and release the growing pressure. His hand tightened against your waist as you did, and you could feel his breath hitting the back of your head. Everyone was blissfully unaware of what was transpiring between the two of you as the staff clicked away at photos.

“All done! You can all say goodbye and head out the doors. At the end of the show, we will have you come back to get your posters signed! Thanks for your cooperation!” The voice of the staff member pushed through the room. You went to step forward, but Yugyeom’s hand firmly kept you in your spot.

“Wait.” He growled lowly. You could feel his cock straining against his pants, begging for attention. You didn’t dare move. Yugyeom couldn’t let you go, as his tight pants didn’t leave much to the imagination. Your friend ran up to you and wave over you to Yugyeom.

“Thank you so much! I hope you all have a good show!” She beamed. Yugyeom didn’t reply with words, just nodded and slowly released the tight hold on your hip as he managed to focus enough to allow his cock to rest some. You could feel him take a deep breath and exhale before releasing your hip and allowing you follow your friend as she pulled you along. This left you no time to say goodbye to anyone, and you looked over your shoulder as Jinyoung waved a goodbye to you. Your emotions were all over the place. You wanted to see Jinyoung, you were still a little bitter, but your pussy was dripping from the events that had your head spinning. You blindly followed your friend, paying no attention to the crowd, the noise, or the lights. Your mind was taken over by the feeling that Yugyeom had caused to pool in your stomach.

Now that you and your friend were seated, it was easier to replay the feeling of Yugyeom behind you, his cock twitching against you, the feeling his breath left on the back of your head. Your friend was talking, but her words fell on deaf ears. Your legs continued to rub together as much as you could to ease the pressure. The only thing that woke you from your imagination, was the dimming lights, roar of the crowd, and the bass reverberating through your body as Got7 began to take the stage.

Great, now you just had about two hours of torture before meeting them again.

Part Two

[deathbyvalentine]

Assorted Prompts

Loveletter

There are always secret places in schools. They’re unseen to adult eyes. Hollows of trees, particular broken drawers in classrooms, unused desks. They could become post offices, central hubs for things to come and go. Lip glosses, lists, small talismans for luck and witchcraft. Some were private, known only to best friends, not realising they were carrying on a grand tradition practised by hundreds of schoolgirls before them.

Chrissie and Angelique were two such girls. They had the type of friendship only fourteen year old girls could have. They were joined at the hip, endlessly fascinated and infuriated with each other. The came apart and came together in a cycle as predictable as the tides. 

They went to the woods on the outskirts of the grounds, pricked their fingertips with needles and pressed the bloody prints to each other’s lips, swearing an oath to be each other’s forever. They walked to class with linked arms, heads leaning together, weaving whispers between them. They invented their own language, as much about twitches of the hand and eyebrow as the nonsense words they said. They passed notes, never caught. They lay together on Chrissie’s bed, legs tangled together, pressing hands to each other. Sometimes they didn’t even need to speak. They just gazed at each other, memorising the other’s body until it may as well have been their own.

Years later, when they had graduated and were girls no longer, a new pupil plunged their hand into a birdbox and found a faded piece of paper, blue ink bleeding a little from years of damp. It said; 

Chrissie, Tomorrow we will wake up and we will be friends still. How can life get better than this? Your Angel

High Flyer

She had red hair. That was what I remembered best about her. When she took her helmet off it shone like fire in the evening sunlight. She was like a poster come to life, her lipsticked smile perfect, her leather jacket fitting like a dream. She was the perfect pilot, everyone’s idea of one. At least, she was certainly my idea of one. I loved her best in the morning, before she left, before she had to put the world before me. Even in her sleep she was a fighter, never still for too long, always stirring. I knew that she would never go out quietly, that however she went, it would be with an explosion. It turned out I was right, her plane tumbling down into the English channel like Icarus, her hubris being the assumption she could out fly death. She’s buried there somewhere, out with the salt and the seaweed, conquering the waves as she conquered the sky. I don’t miss her. In life she was never around enough to form a life around and now without her, her absence feels as a natural as the wind. I still love her, and I love the spaces where she once was.

Blue

Constance woke up, as she so often did, in the early hours of the morning. For once, the school was peaceful, the entire place breathing slowly. Everything was bathed in pale blue light, the colour of a summer just before dawn. The place was as lonely as she felt, corridors and teaching rooms abandoned. Well. Abandoned if you didn’t know the right way to look.

She realised what had woken her on this occasion. Not nightmares, not rain pattering against the window, not hearing giggling in the next room. Distantly, echoing down the corridor, was a soft wailing. She tilted her head, wondering why the nurse hadn’t taken care of it. Then, after a moment, she realised exactly why. She slipped out of bed, bare feet hitting the cold polished wood, pulling open her bedroom door. She peeped out, listening before distinguishing where it was coming from. 

She followed it down the corridor, a small shiver travelling down her spine from cold or fear. Her fingers brushed the banister as she tip toed down the stairs, slipping past the teacher’s quarters like a forgotten shadow. It was deep within the kitchen where she finally found what she was looking for, rubbing her eyes to free them from the clinging fingers of sleep.

The figure was small, as she expected it to be, sitting on the edge of the wooden table and howling fit to burst. Constance forced herself to keep a neutral face, to not recoil or flinch when the figure looked up to reveal a face with deep claw marks across it. She hadn’t met this one before, but then ghosts appeared whenever they liked. Sometimes it could be centuries before they manifested. Yet another part of her power she didn’t quite understand. Timidly she stood, squirming as she worked up the courage to ask if it was alright.

The answer would be no of course. She had yet to meet a happy ghost. But sometimes someone seeing them, talking to them, acknowledging them would ease their soul enough that they would let her sleep. It didn’t always work. Hence why Constance had quite the reputation for falling asleep at her desk. She took a step closer, fingers brushing the shoulder of the incorporeal form. With a shock like electricity, she felt the claws rip into her flesh, the teeth and terror. She blinked, and her body was her own again, vital, living. The ghost had not yet stopped crying, only for a moment to be surprised that Constance could see him before continuing, undeterred.

With a sigh, she moved over to fill a heavy iron kettle and place it on the hob. She needed tea. It was going to be a long night.

____________________________________________-

Calpurnia and Matthias’ first meeting

He stood behind his mothers and fathers, attempting valiantly to look disinterested. But he had never met a Urizeni before and his curiosity betrayed him. He peeked around his father’s shoulder to inspect her. He noted her stance, straight backed and rigid, the expression giving nothing away as to what she thought of his land, his family, his lodgings. His instinct was to assume arrogance, but he had been told about the Urizeni occupation with poise. She could just be controlling herself, a concept fairly foreign to the young changeling.

He also noted the soft feathers sprouting along her brow. If it wasn’t clear from her confidence, the feathers made her lineage intently clear. He himself had no chance of hiding his own - swirls painted his face, the beginnings of antlers protruding through the mess of curls, his eyes a sparkling blue. In hindsight, he probably should have spent less time examining every inch of her and more time listening to exactly what his family was saying. 

“- Matthias will show you - “ “- What?” He blinked, rapidly being jolted back down to earth.  “You know the way. Calpurnia here needs to be shown and we’re too busy with the clients we currently have. It’ll get you out from under our feet for a few days.” Their tone was traditionally blunt and invited no argument. Matthias frowned and looked over at the other teenager that had caused him to be jolted from his days of relaxation and socialising.

She smiled. What a dick.

_____________________________________________

That Bloody Alleyway

The alley provided a much needed moment of respite. They stood for a moment, backs pressed to the brick walls, their chests heaving. Their assilants sprinted past, not a single one of them glancing into the gap. Even if they had, they might not have seen anything. They were bathed in shadow, the light of the street not quite touching them. 

They could hear nothing but faded footsteps and the sound of their own breath catching in their throats. Alyssa tilted her head, double-checking. Then grinned. She wrapped her hand in Taylor’s t-shirt, closing the gap between them and kissing her, hard. Taylor returned the love, moving up the hand that wasn’t holding a bag of stolen jewellery to Alyssa’s hair, tangling her fingers within it. 

It took them both a moment to notice the body. It was only when they had broken apart and glanced either way to begin to plan their exit when they saw it. Alyssa clapped a hand over her mouth to prevent a scream, but Taylor did nothing more than inhale sharply. They stood as still as statues, making certain that his chest was not rising and falling, that it wasn’t just some drunk sleeping off his evening. Taylor stepped closer, using her phone to cast a little more light on the situation. 

A dark pool surrounded his head like a twisted version of a halo. One pale hand lay flat against the concrete, the other tucked inside his jacket pocket. He was smartly dressed, looking for all the world like he had just stepped out of an office. But that seemed unlikely in this part of town. Legitimate people didn’t work around here. This was a place for getting by and getting into trouble.

Hence the dilemma that now faced the partners. Did they call someone, anonymously and risk sticking their noses somewhere they did not belong? Or did they do the right thing? It was Taylor who stirred first, grabbing Alyssa’s hand and tugging her out of the alleyway and into the street. Not their problem. Not their business.

_________________________________________________

“Any two etc. au bandfic.”

Amy stormed into the green room, tossing her bass onto the couch without caring if it landed on the cushions. She stood in the middle of the room, motionless, her hands clenched into fists, cheeks flushed pink. After a moment she broke the pose, moving over to carefully adjust her bass, murmuring an apology under her breath as she did so. She ran her fingers down it’s neck. 

It was a thing of beauty, the only constant in her life since she was thirteen. Parents left, friends, boys, girls but her green bass stayed, as much a part of her as her hands. She stays in the silence, listening only to her breath. I am close to crying I think. I’m not sure. It’s been so long that I’m not sure all the pipes are connected right. She hated how she looked when she cried. Red puffy eyes, blotchy cheeks. She was not a girl who suffered prettily and she hated that she was even conscious of that fact. She wondered if boys watched themselves through another’s eyes, even at their worst.

She wasn’t sure if James worried about anything, let alone if his sadness was beautiful enough. But then, she also wasn’t sure if sadness was an emotion he felt. Anger, yes, frequently. Bitterness, of course. Sadness? She couldn’t see it on him. Which was probably the problem.

Amy was sad a lot. It was her default state. That and anxious. She frequently found her moments of happiness only came on stage, the music surrounding her, watching James sing her words, the words she had written. Out of his mouth, her words weren’t teenage and embarrassing. They weren’t personal. A crowd sang them back and they became poetry. They became something profound, universal. It felt like releasing them into the world, the weight from her chest finally easing, just a little.

She thought she had found another place. In James’s arms, in his bed. It had started almost as an ego boost. James was stunning, with those big brown eyes and thick eyelashes, strong arms and perfect smile. The fact that he wanted her, with all her flaws was enough to give her head rush. Then it had became more. It was him, just him that made her mood jump, her heart race. Stupid of her really. Falling in love in general was idiocy. Falling in love with a lead singer was lunacy. She didn’t know how to tell him to be careful. Not with her, she was already broken, but with her words. Her music. Her band. That was all that mattered really, when you cut down to the bone of it. 

But James was not a careful man. He didn’t know how to be. He knew only how to be reckless and brave and maddening. It’s what made him so electric to watch and so dangerous to know. Amy only knew how to be careful. She lived in a fragile world. Everything was made of glass, everything could come crashing down, leaving cuts.

She wasn’t surprised that she had seen him kissing somebody else. It was in his nature. The old story of the scorpion and the frog, played out a hundred times over and over. She was however, surprised it hurt.

_______________________________________

“Any character: sex work AU”

It had taken a while to get used to. Her civvie clothes were flowing layers, in deep yellows and oranges, a way of carrying summer with her all year long. Her work clothes were not just tight - they may as well have been painted on. They clung to every dip and curve, highlighting the imagination rather than leaving something to it. What wasn’t covered by latex or leather was not covered at all, the black of the material and the tan of her skin working together to create a symphony of seduction. 

Amberly liked it now. The feeling of it, especially when it warmed, becoming like a second skin. She ran her hands over her hips, feeling the slopes of her own body. She was not often aware she had a body. She generally considered it irrelevant. Simply a vessel for actioning her thoughts. A machine, just one made of flesh and blood.

Here it was different. Here it became a way for her to present her personality, to cause and stir excitement in others. It could be desired and admired. She became fascinated with herself, the swing in her hips, the noise her skin made against sheets, the way her hair streaked down her back. She memorised her freckles and scars, inspecting herself in her mirror with nothing but kindness. She knew logically she was supposed to find fault. Prod at her thighs, despair over a spot, circle what she would change. But none of that entered her mind. She loved herself, her body. And this job gave others the opportunity to do the same.

Experimentally, she smacked the crop against her palm, smiling at the noise that echoed through the room. 

__________________________________________

Petitioner Change

Canyon sat on top of the decaying rock, feet just resting in the water. Dark shapes moved below, but she wasn’t afraid. Shadows were as much a part of this world as the sea itself. The sea spray and the mist left tiny droplets on her skin, shimmering like crystals.  Sometimes they fizzled where they hit her skin, the infernal burning inside her not abated. She was a creature of fire surrounded by water. Not that she minded. Not anymore.

It wasn’t just the landscape that was changing. She had known from the moment it had happened that Abyss had gone, shifting into something of his essence but definitely not the same. Your shaper was a part of you. When they changed, the world changed, and as a part of the world surrounding you, so did you. 

Her rage hadn’t subsided. Her passion. Her adoration and hate. That was still there, fuelling the fire of her soul. But something else was there too. A deep, dark shadow behind the fire. One whispering about acceptance, peace, about the refuge that came with accepting shadow as the natural counterpart of fire. One that saw no experience as valuable as experience. One that thought one sounded like a dreadfully lonely number.

She leaned down, trailing her fingers in the sea, watching some shadows dart up and nip at her fingers. Part of her wanted to slip into the water and let them consume her, a thousand pieces of her in a thousand others. She wasn’t scared. She was happy.

[thorne93]

Unexpected Guest (Part 8)

Prompt: Imagine working a party and seeing a mysteriously handsome man who captures your entire attention. There’s one catch: you’re engaged to a different man.

Warnings: angst, fighting, negative relationships, flirting, language, smoking (cigs? Is that even a warning? idk)…

Word Count: 3942

Notes: Inspired by Gorgeous - Taylor Swift…Beta’d by my amazing @like-a-bag-of-potatoes and translated by her because she’s perfect. I’m so blessed to call you a friend, love. OFC/OC Jeremy

Forever Tags: @capsmuscles @cocosierra94 @essie1876 @magpiegirl80 @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @harleyquinnandscarletwitch @iamwarrenspeace @marvel-imagines-yes-please@superwholocked527 @myparadise1982sand @missinstantgratification @thejemersoninferno @rda1989 @marvelloushamilton @munlis @thefridgeismybestie @bubblyanarocks3 @random-fluffy-pink-unicorn @hardcollectionworldtrash @igiveupicantthinkofausername @kaliforniacoastalteens @feelmyroarrrr​ @kaeling​

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once you got home, you found you were alone. You took your piece of cake that Ida had bagged up for you and put it in the fridge. You started the task of getting your hair manageable for bed, taking your makeup off and getting out of your dress to get into comfortable pajamas. Your phone indicated you still didn’t have any missed communication from Jeremy.

You sighed angrily and put your phone on the nightstand.

The door opened and at first, you were going to opt for just going to bed, but something within you ignited. You jumped up from bed and met Jeremy in the living room.

“Where have you been?” you asked, irritation in your voice.

“Whatssit to you?” he slurred.

Oh, so he went out and got drunk on your birthday? Nice…

“For starters, it’s my birthday and you missed the entire party,” you informed.

Jeremy glanced around the room, eyes barely open. “Doesn’t look like it was much of a party,” he scoffed as he walked over to the fridge to grab a beer. You ran over and took it from him before he could take a drink.

“Hey!” he protested.

“You mind telling me why the fuck you’re out drinking on my birthday?”

“I forgot. Big deal. I went out with the guys. We had one hell of a time. You should’ve been there.”

“No, you should’ve been there, Jeremy. At my party! What...What kind of asshole does that?”

“What the hell did you just say to me?” he demanded, dominance filling his stance as he towered over you.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” you repeated, pointing at him as your voice raised. “I can forgive just about everything you do. But forgetting my birthday? That’s a new level of ass.”

“God damn. So you got older, big fucking deal. I’m sure your friend Bill kept you company,” he said, taking the beer back from you.

“Bill has nothing to do with this!”

“Oh he doesn’t? We didn’t have problems until he came around!”

“Because he’s a good fucking person and your a dick! I reminded you about my birthday twice this week and you still forgot. And what about the fact that I called you several times and texted you all night and I didn’t hear a peep back?”

“Oh, sorry,” he said, “Veronica had my phone. Sort of a game we were playing.”

“Who the fuck is Veronica?” you asked, confused as hell.

“She was this hot waitress at the bar. Man...she had nice cans,” he said approvingly, nodding his head to one side before taking a drink.

“So let me get this straight,” you began, putting your hands to your forehead, “on my birthday, you went to a bar, possibly cheated, and got shitfaced, instead of coming to my party?”

“Why should I even show up when I have to compete with Mr. Wonderful?” he wondered, still stumbling around, slurring, and his eyes half closed.

Frowning and shaking your head, you asked, “Who? Bill? Are you serious right now?”

Anger raged through you as you yanked the beer bottle from his lips and went to the sink to start pouring it out.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“I think you’ve had enough to drink,” you mumbled.

“I paid for that, you bitch,” he snapped.

“Oh, I’m a bitch? You paid for this? Did you really? Because I pay for every fucking thing else in this house! Maybe you should see if Veronica wants to support your lazy ass!”

“At least she isn’t fucking her guy friend and lying to her fiance about it!”  

The next thing you knew was that your hand met Jeremy’s face, a loud slap echoing in the house, your hand stinging from the force of the hit.

“I fucking told you I’m not sleeping with him!”

“How stupid do you think I am, Y/N?” he demanded, his eyes darkening as his cheek reddened.

“I think you’re pretty fucking stupid since you can’t do anything right! You can’t get promoted, you can’t write music, you can’t make love right, you can’t clean, you can’t stay faithful, and you can’t remember my fucking birthday!”

“I don’t fucking need this. All you do is nag, you know? You’re always on my ass about doing this or that. I like to relax once in awhile.”

“I nag you all the time because you don’t do anything!” you shouted, exasperated by all of this. About this being the umpteenth time this argument has arose.

“Why is it all on me, huh?” he demanded, throwing his arm out in a vague gesture.

“All on you? Have you been blacked out for the last three years? I cook every meal, I clean every day, I do laundry all the time. I’m lucky if you make a run to the grocery store on your way home.”

“Because I’m busy supporting you! I’m always at work or with the guys!” he retorted as if he had been busting his ass for you.

“Oh, right, the guys. The guys who never help clean up the mess they make here, or offer to pay when you buy pizza using my money. The same guys who haven’t helped you make a decent song in over a year!”

“Hey! I don’t shit all over your work!”

You nodded. “You’re right, Jeremy, you don’t. You know why? Because you would have to stop staring at the fucking TV long enough to notice what I’m doing. You also know that my income supports ninety-five percent of your shit lifestyle.”

“God damn. Is this major bitch fest coming from me missing one lousy birthday? Get over yourself. I doubt you really even wanted me there.”

For a moment, you didn't know how to respond. You wanted to say, “Of course I wanted you there.” But it would be a lie.

In that moment, you were so livid you couldn’t see straight. You weren't in a good frame of mind, but you did know you didn’t want Jeremy anywhere near you.

In a much more calm voice, you said, “You’re right. I didn’t want you there. In fact, I don’t want you anywhere near me anymore. You can get your shit and get out it.”

“What?”

“I know you usually don’t listen when I talk, Jeremy, but let me make this clearer. Get. Out,” you said, stopping at each word while pointing at the front door.

“You’ve gotta be shitting me. Because I flirted with some bitch at a bar and missed your party?”

You pointed to the bedroom. “Get your shit, and just...get out. I can’t do this any more. We’re done.”

“No, you’re not leaving me. You don’t get to dump me, not after everything I’ve given you.”

“You haven’t given me shit, I worked for all of this,” you retorted.

He shook his head. “You know what? Fine. Fuck it. I’m out. I don’t need this shit. You’re a controlling bitch.” He turned and walked into the bedroom, meanwhile you turned at the sink and put your hands on the edge of it and leaned over…

What a fucking night. Happy Birthday to you…

You sighed heavily, not sure if you should be crying, sleeping, eating, drinking...You just weren’t sure about anything anymore. Right now, throwing Jeremy out felt right, it felt good...But in the morning, would you regret it? Throwing him out, saying you’re ending your engagement, that’s a huge step. That’s not just a bad argument you can come back from. If you wanted this, you needed to be damned sure before he was out that door for good.

In this moment, knowing that he did what he did on your birthday, it felt perfectly fine. Just looking back on everything that had transpired between you and Jeremy...you knew this was the right move, even if Bill hated you now, you’d rather be alone than stay in this heavily negative relationship. You didn’t think you could take one more day of begging him to clean or pay a shred of attention to you or to engage in your engagement. Your psyche would just fucking crack if you had to deal with it anymore.

Where did it all go wrong though? How did you go from the cute ice cream dates and picnics in the park and happy, carefree days of moving in together to not being able to stand each other? How do you just go from dying to touch each other, excited to see him when you get home to hating the idea of him being there?

Worst of all...how did you not notice it happening until Bill came around and reminded you of how you should feel around your boyfriend?

After five minutes, Jeremy came storming out of the bedroom, duffel bag slung over his shoulder. A small part of you wanted to tell him to stop, to wait and you two to talk about it in the morning. Part of you wanted to just say his name, to make him look at you. Yet, the bigger part of you, the wiser part of you knew you needed to let this go...to let him go.

So you stood with your hands on the counter, full well knowing you needed to remain quiet and just let him leave without so much as a glance your way. He wrenched open the front door and slammed it behind him.

As soon as it shut, you walked to your bedroom, ready to just sleep this horrible day away…But of course when your head hit the pillow, sleep didn’t come so easily, how could it? You were now single, lying in the bed you’d shared with your fiance for years now. His scent, his touch, his presence was still there from where the pillow still had the indent of his form, his stuff on his nightstand, the sports pictures and posters on the wall. Never to see his family again, never to go to his childhood home and meet his sweet mom or joke with his dad or brother. This was the family you were going to join, go to holidays with, and now you’d never see them again. Even if you were irate and pissed and hurt right now, and even at your core you knew this was the best option...it still hurt to end two lives.

Soon, his toiletries wouldn’t be in the same space on the bathroom sink, his socks wouldn’t be in the top dresser drawer, his music gear wouldn’t take up half of your office, his favorite snacks would be thrown out...All the little things that made up your life together would disappear, all evidence of your lives together slowly disintegrating as time went on. With or without the aggravation that came with Jeremy, you still cared about him and he had been your partner for a long time now and you couldn’t just turn those feelings off…

Then again, you couldn’t just turn off those feelings with Bill either. The fears and feelings you were having now could very well happen to you and Bill...but somehow...you felt like this wouldn’t happen with Bill. Of course, the gift giving and overtly extra nice and sweet would probably slowly slip away, as with most couples, the honeymoon phase couldn’t last forever and you knew that. But that wasn’t what you were thinking of, your mind was wandering to instead of deteriorating with time as you and Jeremy had, you felt you and Bill would grow stronger. You would learn each other’s strengths and weaknesses, learn to love each other’s flaws, learn how to make each other better people.

Because you didn’t love Bill because of his money or his fame or what he could or would buy you. You loved that he jumped to go with you to a wedding. You loved that he didn’t mind sitting and listening to you vent for hours on end. You loved that he went to any and all lengths to just put a smile on your face. To walk you out to your car. To offer advice on your work if he could. The fact that he could make a bad day disappear by just being there for you after work. The fact that he could make a crowded room feel private just by giving you that intense, captivating stare. The fact that he could make you feel like a queen just by making you laugh and staring at you as if you’d given him the world.

Jeremy, looking back on it, did the bare minimum. Sure, he tried your recipes, but he was basically eating dinner, he didn’t have to go out of his way for that. He never did anything special for your birthdays or Valentine’s Day or Christmas. His gifts were never thought out, never sentimental, never once did he try to go above and beyond. But it wasn’t just holidays or gifts, it was all the time. No surprise bouquet of flowers. No offering to make dinner or pick up pizza. No  special back rubs or foot rubs after a long day. No offering to clean the house just to be kind. No offering to run you a bath...To some people, that’s probably okay. Some people may be okay with not putting a lot of effort into their relationships that way, but when you bent over backwards to just see that he was happy and he couldn’t even lift a finger.

But here was Bill, willing to put in just as much blood, sweat, and tears into this and he didn’t even have you. He was so happy and ready to just give you his all, just in hopes of even being worthy of your time.

The thoughts of the two men swirled and swirled in your head. On one hand, yes, you knew leaving Jeremy was right. Didn’t mean it didn’t hurt to end the shared life between you two. Then, on the other hand, you knew you were in love with Bill. Didn’t mean you were ready to rush back into a relationship and do this whole circus sideshow again. Did you want to make it work? Of course. But the idea of plunging right back into the mess you were in was terrifying. You loved Bill now, but in five years would you be in the same situation?

Eventually, sleep took over and you fell into a restless sleep.

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

The next morning, Ida came over with coffee and pastries to help cheer you up. She had no idea that you had kicked Jeremy out.

“I’m so sorry about your party,” she apologized.

You waved her off. “It wasn’t your fault. You threw a great party and I am so appreciative, really. My birthday itself was fantastic. Just...the rest of the night went to shit,” you said, looking miserable with dark circles and fucked up hair.

“Did something else happen I don’t know about?” she inquired softly.

You nodded, cupping the cup of coffee and your eyes drifting down to it. “Yeah...I...I threw Jeremy out.”

Ida’s eyes went wide for a moment before nodding slowly. “Holy...wow...Why? What happened? Because he didn’t show up or…?”

Nodding your head side to side, you answered, “Yeah, partially that. But he came home, drunk, told me he was flirting with a waitress, and that he didn’t care that he forgot my birthday. That was the last straw. We yelled at each other over who did more around the house and shit and...it...I couldn’t take it anymore so I kicked him out.”

“That fucking sleezy piece of shit,” she cursed, shaking her head angrily. “Flirting with another girl on your birthday then having the audacity to say you didn’t do more around the house? Hell no…”

Silence fell between you two as she continued to ponder the news, shaking her head and muttering.

“So...when is he coming back? I mean...is it over over or did you just have him leave?”

Heaving out a sigh, you responded, “No, it’s really over. I told him we were done and he needed to grab a bag and get out. He didn’t put up much of a fight…”

“Oh honey,” she said, reaching over to rub your back.

You shrugged. “I actually feel okay. It hurt last night, and I’m still not used to the idea of being single…” Your eyes fell to your ring finger, still clad with the ring Jeremy had picked out for you, not sure when you would take it off. “I’m not head over heels happy that he’s going to be out of my life, but I know...you know, in the long run it’ll all be okay.”

“Yeah,” she agreed gently. “It really will.” She took a sip of her coffee. “Oh, so...maybe a sore subject right now but...Bill?”

“What about him?” you wondered simply.

“Do you still have feelings for him? Are you going to tell him? Are you going to address the fact that he kissed you with him?”

A small laugh bubbled out of your lips. “Uh, Ida, I don’t know, man. I’m just...I’m trying to take it one day at a time right now. I don’t think I can throw Jeremy out and pull Bill in, ya know?”

Pulling her cup from her lips, she commented, “No, I know, but I still think you should talk to him at some point...I mean...he deserves to know your feelings, where you stand, that you’re single…”

“I don’t know…I’m not sure I can or that I should. I don’t think it’s a good idea to just leave Jeremy and jump back into...all this.”

“No one’s asking you to, but if Bill is the guy I think he is, he’ll be willing to wait and help you through this. After everything that’s happened between you two, I think he deserves to know that one day, you’re willing to try. I’m sure he won’t expect anything right now, but he should know that it’s on the table.”

You nodded. She was right and you hadn’t thought of that. Your immediate reaction was to just push everyone away, including him, but she had a point. Bill would probably wait, he wouldn’t pressure you. He would be there for you, support you, as a friend or whatever you needed probably. You just didn’t want to supply him with false hope and in a few months or maybe a year, you still weren’t ready to start a new relationship and he’d wasted his time waiting for you.

“Do you really think so?”

“I know so. Besides, what will it hurt? If you find out he’s not willing to wait or be cool about it, then he’s a dick and it’s good that you got rid of him,” she said with a bright, cheery disposition that reached her twinkling blue eyes.

You laughed at her response.

“I suppose you’re right. If he isn’t willing to work this out, then he’s not the guy I fell in love with,” you agreed, bobbing your head.

“That’s true. So what are you gonna do about Jeremy? You gonna talk to him?”

“Ugh. I really don’t want to, but I suppose it needs to be done at some point since he needs to come back and get the rest of his stuff…”

“If you want me to be here for that instead, I can talk to him,” she offered.

“No, I really need to be here. It would be better for closure and if he has any questions…Besides, I don’t need to run from this.”

“Fair point.  So what’s the game plan?”

“Not sure. I’m going to maybe text him later tonight after he’s cooled down and so have I. See when he wants to come get his stuff, and take it from there.”

“So you’re not going to go out and get drinks and talk or anything?”

You shrugged. “Why should I? I’ve told him over and over again for years now what I want from him, if he doesn’t get that then nothing I say now will change that or get through to him. If he asks me, I’ll probably tell him why I don’t want to be with him any more.”

“That’s good. And Bill? How long are you going to wait on him?”

Another shrug rolled through your shoulders. “I don’t know. What do you think?” you wondered. At this point you were willing to take any shred of advice anyone was willing to offer.

She thought a moment, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. A few minutes went by before she answered, making you grow concerned.

“I think, you should tell Bill when it feels right, but do it soon. I would take care of Jeremy first though. Take today and tomorrow and take the day off. I’ll watch the kitchen. You take today to destress, take a hot bath, lay in bed, eat ice cream, whatever…”

“But--” you started but Ida gave you a warning look.

“I will cover it. Trust me. The kitchen will be just fine for a few days while you do all this.”

“Fine,” you conceded with a pout like a child.

“Then, once you’re done with taking time for yourself to decompress, hit Jeremy up and ask him when he wants to come get his crap. Make it soon, so that you don’t have to see all of his shit in here, making this harder on you.”

You nodded slowly, taking in her advice.

“Okay...And Bill?”

“When you have a day for the Jeremy shit figured out, you need to go to Bill and tell him you want to talk. That should be done in person, all of the feelings and the kiss and all of that...stuff, should be out in the air. Again, talk to him as soon as possible while the feelings are still fresh. You don’t want either one of you to dwell on it too long or him think you’re not interested and he moves on.”

“Right,” you agreed, nodding. “I don’t even know what to say,” you admitted, shaking your head, your eyes dropping back to the counter again.

“Say whatever you feel.”

“No shit, Sherlock. But I don’t know how to put that into words.”

“Start off with leaving Jeremy...Then go to the kiss on your birthday….then try to talk to him about the future, what he thinks, if he has any expectations.”

“But what if I can't promise him what he wants? I’m not sure I can jump from a ruined relationship to a new one. It all still feels to raw. Regardless if Jeremy was a dick or not, at one time we did love each other, we did want to be married...And now...that’s over. I’m not sure I can do this again…”

She nodded. “That’s fair. But you should just talk to Bill and feel around on how he feels. If you lay it out for him, how you feel, what you think, he might want to wait for you.”

Nodding slowly, you agreed.

“If you need anything else, call me. I’ll go open up the kitchen. But you stay here and relax, okay?”

Another nod from you. You didn’t have enough energy to talk anymore about this. She rubbed your back supportively before pulling you into a tight hug, holding you there for a few moments before releasing you and letting out a breath. She left and you were left all alone with your thoughts again….a dangerous combination.

[thorntonkrell-blog-blog]

To Beard or Not to Beard

I hadn’t seen my face in 50 years. 

My children have never seen it. 

Since I was 22, I’ve had that full beard. It started as a bet. Everybody else dropped out after a month. Not me, I’m as stubborn as I am secretive.

Aside from the bet, I’m not sure why I grew it. I was the youngest of the guys in the bet so maybe I was trying to look older. Maybe I was trying to make it easier to buy beer. Can’t say for sure. All I know is that it came in and it stayed.

Turned out I was as good at growing a beard as I was at blowing smoke rings. At 22, it’s good to be good at anything. The beard outlasted the rings by thirty years. I smoke Black and Mild Cigars now just to blow the rings and I’m still good at that. I can blow smoke rings through smoke rings like the giant Camel Man did from the billboard mounted on the Claridge Hotel on Broadway between 43rd and 44th Street that used to blow smoke rings over Time Square.

That poster disappeared long before my beard did but not before Camelman spent a few years blowing smoke ringsider adult bookshops and peep shows.

My beard disappeared yesterday. None of my children were around but my wife was.

We’ve moved down here to Carolina, along way from Gotham. The weather is so hot that the lizards are turning colors on the front porches. Maybe the heat had something to do with the disappearance. Maybe i thought it would be cooler both literally and figuratively.

Nobody knows me around here anyways.

I don’t know.

It just happened.

Maybe it was because my beard trimmer decided to die halfway through my usual trim. I picked up the razor that my wife uses on her legs and started to rub it across my face. It felt kinda good. Kinda cool.

I went into the shower and kept dragging the blade across my face as remaining the whiskers went down the drain.

No mess.

No mirror during the shave.

Naked, I stepped out of the shower. I didn’t realize exactly how naked I was until I looked into the bathroom mirror.

I got the first glimpse of my full face in half a century.

It looked all right. No big thing.

I toweled off. I put on my clothes.

I walked into the living room where my wife was watching teevee.

I stepped directly in front of the teevee. She always accuses me of being an attention whore and I always deny it.

She says that I’m in denial.

I say I deny what isn’t true etc.

I was looking for her attention at that moment.

She had never seen my naked face before. I had kept it a secret.

She noticed.

“that’s a nice change”, she said and went back to her viewing.

I didn’t know how to respond so I just said “good.”

I’d been through a lot of stages with my beard

Single guy,  married guy, father, divorced guy, single guy, remarried guy, father, stepfather, teaching guy, retired guy, cancer guy...you name it.

Beards have come and gone and come again in fashion. I was a constant. I’ve been stereotyped both positively and negatively because of my beard. It came in handy at Dead concerts when strangers were passing joints around or when a hockey team was going into the playoffs. Not so handy when I would run into beard haters who thought beards were for bums, beatniks, hippies, ARTsy fartsys, sick son of a bitches from hell hole trailers in South Carolina and a whole range of hater paranoia.

After awhile, I forgot I had a beard until I would see a picture of myself and realize that my beard was my outstanding feature.

In describing or trying to identify me a witness might say: “he had a beard.”

If I was an extra in a movie, i’d be ‘guy with beard’ and that’s why I would have been hired in the first place because casting was in a hurry and needed a ‘guy with beard’ immediately.

Later that night, I went to the mirror and took a closer look.

I looked ‘younger’ without the beard.

The younger underneath looked startlingly older than the under looked the last time that I saw it.

I looked younger and older.

I looked weird and naked.

My face was a little less tan where my stash and beard used to be.

For all those years, I had set my ‘under” face in a certain way. I never moved it much and the beginning of puppet mouth had set in for shits and giggles.

My wife noticed that, of course, and pointed it out to me

And now I notice it and it’s all that I can see.

Howdy Fuckin’ Doody.

When we told Mary, our daughter in Boston about the change, she seemed startled. This was her reply.

“If you don’t like it, you can grow it back.”

I don’t know if I like it or not.

I was starting to look kinda writers with the beard. My friend Cal even went so far as Hemmingwayish. Now I looked more Doodyish.

And so naked as to seem almost profane.

Barefaced

Darefaced

Glarefaced

Unhairfaced

Nairfaced

Terrorfaced

Way O’er Faced.

Plus, I hadn’t felt stubble on my cheek or chin forever.

I ran my hand across my chin as I went to bed that night.

I felt the stubble.

It felt good.

My wife had never rubbed my cheek that carried five hours worth of fresh stubble.

I said, “Hey Honey, rub my cheek.”

She said

“I’m too tired.

I’ll rub it tomorrow.”

And tomorrow, I would once again be faced with the dilemma, the daily question that faced and all men’s faces  almost every day. : To beard or not to beard.

[jumintales]

RFA; jealous Mc

aaa hii :3 second one !! if you have any suggestions, please message of comment ^^

YOOSUNG

You overhear him talking on the mic, while you were decorating your office space with Polaroid pictures on the wall.

“Let me get your number!” You hear Yoosung say, as he quickly grabs his phone and inputs the number

Is that a girl he’s talking to?

Maybe

Probably

WhY

calm down, mc

“When are you available?” Yoosung asks through the mic.

You feel a grip on you chest.

While you were lost in your thoughts, Yoosung was fixing up his stuff, getting ready to meet up with this person.

“I’ll see you later.” Yoosung leaves, giving you a kiss on the cheek.

You then rush and put on your black dress, black sneakers and rush off to the mall, where Yoosung mentioned he was going to.

You spot Yoosung at this ice cream shop, waiting for someone.

Then, out of fucking nowhere, this girl comes and sits in front of him.

You rush home, and the rain starts pouring.

You get to the front of your house, and you realize

fuck

really?

You left your keys inside.

You couldn’t help but join the rain, and start crying.The tears fell off your face, along with the rain. Your hair was everywhere. So were your emotions.

After a few minuets, Yoosung comes back, getting out of the taxi, he rushes towards you.

“MC? What are you doing out here?” He asks you worried. He then carries you, unlocks the door and puts you down on the kitchen counter. He, like flash, gets you a towel. He helps you dry up, then starts heating water to make you hot chocolate.

“Are you going to tell me why you were out there?

You avoid looking at him, instead looking at the floor.

“I like your dress.” He says, stirring the mug of your hot chocolate. “I saw someone at the mall, wearing the exact thing, the same beautiful hair, the same sparkling eyes. Except, she wasn’t wearing the smile you wear.” He cups your cheek.

“Who was the girl you were with awhile ago?” You finally get the courage to ask

“Samantha.” He answers. “She plays LOLOL. I managed to save her in a battle and she wanted to treat me as a thank you.“ Your tears started flowing like a waterfall.

Yoosung hugs you tight. “Princess, she’s gay. She introduced me to her girlfriend when you left.”

You apologize. He kisses you and says sorry for not telling you.

JAEHEE

You had nothing to do at home, so you decide to go the Jumin’s office and help Jaehee organize some documents.

You were telling her all about the lunch you had where you messed up the recipe and almost burned down your apartment.

She was smiling.

Then some dude calls Jumin and Jaehee to a meeting.

“What is this about?” Jaehee asks Jumin.

“I have no idea.” Jumin says, walking out.

“I’ll see you in awhile pumpkin.” Jaehee says, rushing to Jumin.

I miss Jaehee already, you told yourself.

I’m going to bring her home

And dominate her

And cooking her dinner

You were always insecure and anxious that Jaehee would leave you, since she was always meeting with different people, while you were finishing school.

The meeting finishes and everyone comes rushing out like ants.

You want for Jaehee’s arrival.

Jumin, you could see in a distance, talking to Mr. Chairman.

But you couldn’t find Jaehee anywhere.

You continue organizing the documents, and suddenly, Jaehee arrives.

finally

“Jae-” Before you finish your sentence, this hot ass lady comes inside.

She was following Jaehee.

This lady

In a really short dress

Really pretty make up

Classy shoes

Was getting your girlfriend’s number.

you grow quiet and leave the room.

Jaehee recited the number as the pretty lady wrote it down a piece of paper.

She leaves, giving Jaehee a smile.

You make your way to the lounge, where you bought an iced tea and sat on the floor.

You give Jaehee the look as she approaches you.

“I love you with all my heart, she is getting my number to contact Mr. Han about the new project.” She drops to her knees, infront of you, sitting on the floor.

“I’m sorry.” You say, as she gives you a peck on the lips.

ZEN

You never really got used to Zen always being surrounded by girls.

But you understood and accepted it.

Zen brought you to one of his meet and greets.

The crew asked you to help with documentary, and take pictures. You took your camera and took pictures of the event set up while they haven’t open the doors yet.

Zen was getting ready and talking to some of the staff members.

You point the camera at him as he was just walking alone, reading something on his phone.

“Zen!” You call out, and he couldn’t help but smile as he turns to you.

You click the button and it shutters, taking a picture of your

beast

angel

The event starts and there’s a super long line all the way outside. They were all wearing his merch and clothes with his face, they had posters for him to sign and gifts to give him.

He was famous.

You took alot of pictures

of zen

of the event, the fans, the staff being cute and all.

Then you decide to rest, since this was taking forever. You left your bag at the table, where Zen was meeting people.

You get your water bottle from your bag and take a drink.

Zen peeps a smile at you. And you smile back.

Maybe i should line up too.

You just watch him happily meet all his fans, which made you smile, seeing him happy.

Then this girl comes, and Zen’s eyes grow big.

“Hey.” She says.

“Han? Is that you?” His confused face brings a smile.

Who was she? you asked yourself.

A small girl comes from behind the lady’s legs. And Zen carries her. They take a picture together. And he gives the lady a hug, and the kid a kiss.

After that, your mood instantly changed.

Moody bitch

The meet and greet ended, and everyone was taking a break before having to set up for tomorrow’s event.

The crew had food delivered, and everyone was chill.

You were pretty moody with Zen, since he didn’t tell you about whoever she was.

You go outside to get some air, and Zen follows you.You were ignoring him though.

“MC? Why are you ignoring me?” You try to keep walking and ignore him in th2e cold air of the night.

“MC.” He finally gets to you, grabbing your arm.

“Who was she?” You say, with watery eyes.

“My ex-girlfriend.” He sighs. “She told me she was coming with her daughter.”

You pull your arm to yourself, away from Zen.

“We aren’t anything anymore. I love you, and you only.” He says, looking at you with truthful, sparkling eyes.

But youre a moody bitch and you run away

tears running down your face as you run away, no idea where you’re going

707

“We’re going to a party!” Seven comes out of the room, running towards you.

He was pretty excited

You were already ready, wearing jeans and a pretty blouse.

He was wearing those light brown shorts, along with a nice collared shirt, which he wore a jacket over

“MC?” He whispers. You lean towards him to listen to whatever bullshit he has to say.

“Look at me.” He says, you turn and he gives you a big kiss.

“Seven!” You pull away out of embarrassment.

He smiles at you. That bright smile.

Your friend pulls you into this game, where you pass the card with your lips, as if your kissing the next player, except, there’s a card in between your lips.

You and Seven sit down. He was sitting next to this girl, and you were sitting next to your friend.

The card was held by the lips of the girl next to Seven.

BEING IN THE GAME

YOU THOUGHT THE CARD

WAS GOING TO BE PASSED

The girl blows away the card and presses her lips against Seven’s.

Seven pulls away instantly, while you leave the room instantly, you go outside to the garden to get air.

Shit.

SHE IS GONNA GET IT

BITCH FEEL MY WRATH

Seven follows you, with a cup of water.

“Here.” He hands you the cup, which you aggressively accept.

“It didn’t mean anything. She went for it.” He said.

“I know.” You sigh.

“Did ya get jealous?” He asks, laughing.

You give him the fuck you look.

“You’re the cutest.” He smiles, softly pulling your face into a kiss.

Oh boy he felt that kiss

It was long

Like him

Fuck just kidding

I am a sinner

“Why don’t we just go home?” He breaks the kiss, smiling at you. You nod, and you both leave.

JUMIN

Jumin came home to his apartment while you were cooking dinner.

“Good evening, kitten.” He says kissing your cheek then grabbing a glass of water.

“I’m making pasta.” You smile.

“Smells great.” He replies. “I’m going to take a shower.”

He drops his bag and phone on the table.

You finish cooking and setting the table, and Jumin wasn’t done yet.

His phone started ringing.

“Jumin! Your phone is ringing!” You shout out.

no response

Okay…

Jumin comes out in a gray shirt and boxers, quickly taking his phone and answering it.

mkay.

He comes back and sits infront of you, then sighs,

“Everything okay?” You asks as you pour yourself a glass of water.

“Father has made plans for another blind date as a possible wife.”

ah okay

you feel a heavy weight on your chest.

“Okay, well. What do you feel?” You ask, trying to keep your cool.

“Nothing.” he says blankly, then starts eating.

You finish dinner without a single word after that.

You slept in the living room, not wanting to be in the same room as him at the moment. He didn’t mind.

why didn’t he mind

does he not love me anymore?

your thoughts consumed you as you slept.

You woke up in the middle of the night, having a panic attack.

You didn’t know what to do.

You try to go back to sleep, but end up thinking about it until sunrise.

You make pancakes for breakfast, it was Jumin’s day off today.

I can spend time with him

You thought.

Jumin comes out, casually dressed.

“Heading out?” You ask.

“I’m eating breakfast with the blind date girl.” He says, grabbing his keys, phone and leaving.

maybe he doesn’t love me anymore?

You hated yourself for thinking that way, so you eat your breakfast alone.

You didnt want to be a burden, you fix up your clothes and stuff, arranging them in a suitcase. Jumin was out the whole day, it was already 5 in the afternoon when you finished everything and finally poured your heart into a letter.

Maybe you were overthinking a little.

You made your way back to your old apartment.

While you were settling in, Jumin had everyone searching for you.

At around 1 in the morning, you still couldn’t sleep, someone knocks on your door.

You peep at the hole and see Jumin, looking worried.

AH YOU WERE A FUCKING MESS WHAT NOW

You try to wipe the tears off your face and open the door. His eyes grow big and he runs into you, hugging you tightly. You felt his warm embrace again. There he stood, with you in between arms, close to his chest.

“I’m sorry.” You say as the tears finally start flowing out your eyes.

“No, I’m sorry. Father forced me. I didn’t tell you. I let you sleep outside the room. I let you eat alone. I let you go for fuck’s sake.” He held you closer.

“I’m never going to let that happen, ever again.” He looks into you eyes and kisses you.

YEEEEE what did you guys think of that ?? tell me pwease :3 also !! send requests, i’d love to waste time i should be using to study :>

[rachelisnotatwork]

Conferencing North of the Wall

Deeply irritatingly, after a winter completely free of sniffles, coughs and fevers, whilst everyone wilted around me and I felt increasingly smug, the first day of spring saw my run of good luck come to an end and a stinking cold develop. So whilst we’d planned a few nice days of holiday before our conference in Belfast, I pretty much had to be peeled, hacking, wheezing and shivering, off the sofa to head over to there.

Naturally we’d booked to fly from Stanstead, which at the time seems like a good (financial) deal, and then the reality kicks in and we have to get two tubes and a train and leave hours of time. The plus side was the exhausting struggle of that plus the cough and cold remedies I was chugging down like there was no tomorrow pretty much meant I got onto the plane, passed out and woke up in Belfast. Unfortunately not the good Belfast airport, because there turn out to be two (who knew? The whole place is tiny. Why on earth do they need two airports?) but the rubbish one which is way outside of town and has posters on the wall about Belfast’s favourite coleslaw (I like to think they had a brutal and hard-fought referendum on that one).

We went to pick up our car, which was the first car we’ve ever got that has “lane assist”. This is probably a helpful function if you find yourself falling asleep on a US highway at 3am, as if you go anywhere near the lines in the centre of the road or at the sides, it starts an irritating beeping sound. This is not a helpful feature if you are in rural Northern Ireland, where the roads are so narrow you are constantly in it’s rage zone and the peeping pretty much never ends. No more nap time for me.

Because I’d been fast asleep on the flight, we hadn’t eaten the lunch we bought in the Stanstead Pret. I decided as we meandered slowly across the countryside towards our cottage outside Derry, to find a tourist attraction to stop at. The nearest appeared to be something called the Tirkane Sweat house. Clicking on it revealed something that looked like a cross between a grass igloo and an ice house. I was intrigued. I failed to mention to Marcel that the review also mentioned cave spiders. I wasn’t sure if they meant it as a joke.

It was beautifully sunny out, and the sweat lodge (built in the 18th century) was located by a tiny stream. The entrance however appears to have been designed for badgers. Beplagued with cold, I was not in the mood for crawling into an abandoned sweat lodge full of spiders, so I decided to let Marcel explore that one alone. Apparently they weren’t joking about the cave spiders. Sorry Marcel.

We drove on to our cottage, through blazing sunshine, verdantly green fields, herds of sheep and a weirdly high number of donkeys. I think I saw more donkeys in a week in Northern Ireland than I’ve seen in my entire life to date. If anyone knows why they love donkeys so much in these parts, please let me know. It looked lovely. It didn’t smell so great though, as apparently the trick to all those glowing green fields is spraying manure on them.

Our cottage was in the middle of nowhere, and the views looked amazing in the sun. 

We’d vaguely discussed going into Derry for dinners, but since I was feeling like shit, I decided we’d self-cater (aka Marcel would make dinner) and so we went to Tesco’s, stocked up on all the supplies and bought a board game as the wifi was broken there. Then we wiled away a pleasant evening in front of the fire, bitterly competing to win the most games.

The next day was forecast to have the better weather, so we decided to do all the “big” local sites. This started with Dunlace Castle. Only you had to pay £5.50 each and up close it didn’t look that impressive and was having some restoration works done, so we decided to stick with the (free) views from the surrounds of Dunlace castle.

The next stop off was the Giant’s Causeway. This is so beloved of UK school textbooks, that I felt like I was on a geography field trip 20 years too late. This was probably helped by being surrounded by herds of windswept teenagers in pac-a-macs. It was National Trust so we got in for free and it is pretty interesting geologically, but I think the main pleasure of the site would have been the hikes you can do around it where you can see some of the similar rock formations without groups of surly teenagers huddled on them (and large numbers of American tourists, revisiting their very, very distant Irish roots). However, alas I was still wheezing like a dying accordion and it took forever and all my breath to get up and down to the Causeway (I refused to take the bus with all the lazy people) so no hikes for us.

After that we headed on to the Carrick-a-Rede rope bridge, which is also owned by the National Trust (another free entry! Win!). This was my suggestion and Marcel was surprised by it because I’m notoriously not great with heights (understatement) and this is a swinging rope bridge that sways 30m over the rocks below. I reassured him though that I was totally up for it. We walked the mile there, along a cliff top path, watching gulls swoop below us whilst bored-looking sheep watched us. We descended the steps down to it. I took one look at it and decided that was a hard nope from me, and refused to go any further. No idea what temporary delusion made me ever think I might. Marcel did head across there though. I bravely photographed him.

All that exercise (a mile is a long way to walk if you are wheezing away with a cough and asthma) and fear-by-proxy had left me hungry. We luckily found a lovely cafe nearby for rhubarb tart, which was located in a village (Ballintoy) that served as a harbour for a scene in Game of Thrones. It was quite windy and the sea rather pleasantly kept breaking over the rocks and the sea wall, which was nice to watch in a “thank god I’m on dry land” way.

On our way back, we decided to swing past The Dark Hedges, which is a photogenic avenue of beech trees that features in pretty much all of Northern Ireland’s tourism materials and a few movies and TV shows. Local and visiting idiots had carved their names into the fairly ancient beech trees, which meant I was seething with pure rage throughout. I like to think of myself as a fairly liberal person…apart from when it comes to people who write their names on historical sites and sites of natural beauty, where I feel the only reasonable punishment is removal of both hands with a fairly blunt axe.

The next morning we were slightly delayed as our airbnb owners had arranged for the BT wifi repair man to come and we had to let him in. I was slightly of the mind that I didn’t really care if we didn’t have internet for the <24 hours of the rest of our stay and I wasn’t really up for hanging around so the next guests could have wifi, but Marcel is a nicer person/a pushover so we did. Our repair man was extremely chatty and did give us some tourist tips, so I guess that was something

We started off having a wander around Derry. It has city walls and from there you can look over most of the town and see bits like Bogside (famous for the Bloody Sunday massacre), the cathedral and the guild hall. It was a relatively pleasant wander, but that was really all I felt I needed to see or do in Derry.

The weather however had just turned sunny as we left Derry to drive up for a fort called Grianan of Aileach. Luckily the whole Brexit debacle had been suspended, because it was just over the border in Donegal. It was my favourite sort of hill fort, in that you could drive right up to it and then get incredible views of the surrounding countryside with very minimal effort.

After a quick lunch (which we could thankfully pay for on card as we had no euros) we headed off to a beach Marcel had picked called Five Fingers Strand at the very north of the Inishowen peninsula. It was my favourite sort of beach- sandy, dramatic scenery behind it and windswept enough that it was pleasantly empty and you didn’t get too hot going for a walk along it, looking at the incredibly rough sea (definitely not a good swimming spot). It was a lovely end to the day out.

The next morning we had to say a sad goodbye to our cottage. We had to be in Belfast in the evening, but we decided to take a very scenic route there. First off, we stopped and wandered down the beach and around the very scenic village of Cushendun. It is apparently the closest point in Northern Ireland to the mainland UK as the Mull of Kintyre is just 16 miles across the water and due to the fact it was a beautifully clear day, very visible. Having been to Iona and it’s abbey on our round the UK road trip, it did make you realise why the Irish monks started out over there since they must have pretty much been able to see the heathens on the horizon.

Our next stop was to look around the walled gardens at Glenarm Castle. They are pretty nicely done and made a nice stop off and wander around, although our plan to visit their tea room for lunch was somewhat thwarted by apparently everyone else in a 50 mile radius having the same plan. 

Starving, we ended up driving into Larne. Not a great looking town but they were having an arts festival that involved having lots of umbrellas hanging in the streets, which cheered things up a bit.

We had to drive the car back to the shitty airport and then get a bus into town to our airbnb so by the time we arrived we weren’t much for exploring the joys of Belfast in the rain but instead hunkered down with takeout for an early evening.

The next day I had designated our “explore Belfast” day. Unfortunately a bunch of attractions aren’t open on a Monday, which this was, so that was a bit of a planning fail on my part. The Titanic museum, which is probably Belfast’s biggest attraction was though so we walked on over there (via a big fish and some very random sculptures made of recycling). 

The museum is huge and is slightly misnamed as a good proportion of it is just on life in Belfast at that time. Which was pretty interesting, as I know the story of the Titanic, but to be honest I don’t know much of Northern Ireland apart from the Troubles. Anyway, now I know all about it’s linen industry, rapid growth and rope factories. So you learn something new everyday. Also I do like giant engineering projects, so a museum that dedicated a lot of time to that whilst surrounded by cargo ships offloading and giant cranes made me happy. I wanted to see it’s dry dock, which is down the road because I read you could go down into it and really get a sense of the scale, so we wandered on down there….to find the only access was through a cafe, which had unexpectedly closed a fortnight previously. So that was a wee bit annoying, but hey, got some exercise.

By the evening, we were pretty tired from all our wanderings and since our whole point of being in Northern Ireland, the conference, started the next day, we decided to stay in and get an early night.

The next morning we walked the extremely agreeable 3 minutes from our Airbnb to the Europa hotel, which is apparently the most bombed hotel in the world. Dunno quite what made everyone hate it so much they bombed it 36 times, since it seemed pretty nice. The result of this is that there are pretty much no bins anywhere in the place. This normally wouldn’t be a problem but they fed us about every 10 minutes at the conference and you’d end up wandering around with a disposable cup or plate for ages, ruing the absence of bins. However the combination of 20 minute lectures for our short attention spans and being fed nice food at extremely regular intervals meant I had rather an enjoyable time.

That evening we had a booking at a restaurant Marcel had seen reviewed in the guardian a few months previously called Six by Nico, that serves a different six course tasting menu every 6 weeks. When we were there it was based on a fish and chips theme, which luckily they interpreted very liberally for vegetarians. We also got free snacks so by the end I pretty much had to be rolled home.

Perhaps as a result of the indigestion I couldn’t really sleep that night. I got up to go to the loo at about 2am and as I got back into bed I saw the orange lights from the street flickering on the ceiling and thought “man, street lights flicker more than I realised”. Then Marcel, woken by the shouting I was oblivious to thanks to my ear plugs got out of bed and pointed out the apartment block on the other side of the car park was on fire.

Now we have a Northern Irish friend who has quite the loud speaking voice. I always thought it was just one of his characteristics, but then on arriving in Northern Ireland I realised actually EVERYONE there has somewhat of a foghorn for a voice. And now all the foghorns in our block of flats were directed at bellowing the people in the flats opposite out of their flats. Whilst we could obviously see the flames much more clearly than they could, it was amazing how slow and reluctant people were to evacuate when there was very clearly a lot of smoke billowing out. It was pretty horrifying how quickly it spread from the original flat to the flat above- in under 2 minutes it had set fire to their balcony, set fire to the uPVC windows, exploded the glass and spread into the flat above. Even though the fire brigade came pretty rapidly and poured what seemed like thousands of litres of water onto it, it took ages to control. It was was a very sombre reminder to check our smoke alarms, carbon monoxide alarm etc on our return.

It also meant we were somewhat shattered at the conference the next day. I’m terrible for falling asleep in lectures at the best of times, so expended all my energy on staying awake (luckily the seating was pretty uncomfortable). That meant by the evening neither of us were interested in doing much so we stayed home and I re-read A Country Doctor’s Notebook, which I first read as a medical student. Still love how whilst medicine has changed so much, the emotions of those providing it really haven’t. When I read it the first time around it was a huge comfort to remember at least I wouldn’t be left to amputate a leg single-handedly on my first day. It is still a comfort that I haven’t had to do that after practising for 7 years.

The next day was the last day of the conference, which meant dragging our suitcase to the hotel and persuading them to let us leave it in their left luggage room. Which they were surprisingly okay with, despite the history of bombs and the total absence of bins. I shan’t question the logic of that because it was hugely in our favour. The conference finished early on the last day, and so we had time to visit one of the attractions that first drew me to Northern Ireland. The Game of Thrones tapestry. Now I do like Game of Thrones, but what I really love is eccentric projects, the bigger the better, and a 66m tapestry commemorating the gore, orgies and weirdness of a TV show was right up my street. Reader, it was JUST AS GOOD as I thought it would be. I loved it. I also like to think of all the confused 90 year old grandma’s hand-stitching the details of orgies and brutal murders, wondering what the hell this was all about.

The museum it was in (The Ulster Museum) was pretty good too so I was very pleased with it for the grand entry price of free. It is right next to some gardens with a victorian glasshouse and fernery (apparently that was all the rage in Victorian Britain) so that was a nice end to our time in Belfast, before heading off back to the airport.

Whilst the weather had held until we were on the bus, by the time was reached the airport it was 4c with freezing horizontal rain and high winds. Normally not a problem but our plane naturally was on the other side of the tarmac and we had to walk about 5 minutes over to it and then queue, trying to angle our bodies like penguins in a huddle, to be out of the worst wind to board. By the time people got on the plane they were streaming water onto the floors and seats. Not the best goodbye to a fun week in Northern Ireland.

In other goodbyes, my suitcase, which has been fraying around the corners for a while and has a wonky wheel, finally developed a huge crack in the handle that meant it is finally time to say goodbye. This suitcase has been with me I think on every trip on this blog and held up amazingly well as that’s probably 18 months of being sat on every day whilst I try and wrench the zips closed over it’s overstuffed contents. I will miss it and suitcase, I’m sorry that whilst you got to see all of the lower 48 and Hawaii, you never saw Alaska. I hope Greenland compensated.

[seventeenbiscuits]

#17 [alone pt. iii]

Word count: 1471

A/N: lifes good when im losing inspiration to finish this series but !! I !! will !! soldier !! on !!!

I knew it would catch up to me someday.

The curse, nestled in the gloomy depths of my mind had resurfaced as a wolf in sheep’s clothing, whispering and laughing through the empty silence that echoed through my empty apartment and down the phone line as I pressed my ear to the phone receiver, trembling.

   “Seungcheol, I found it.”

   “What?”

   “My prime. I found it.”

   “4643.”

With a dry laugh, a thin smile settled on my lips like the delicate landing of a butterfly, its sugar powdered wings dusting my cracked lips. As they parted to heave a soft sigh, the butterfly multiplied tenfold and dove straight into my stomach, beating their paper thin wings against the walls of my stomach, churning up a storm, raging against me. I uncapped a permanent marker, and absentmindedly wrote the number on my clammy palm.

   “Cheol?”

   “Yep, I’m listening.”

Or so I said, but I knew that I had already drifted off, let my emotions carry me off onto the endless seas of treacherous waters as I plunged headfirst into the depths of despair.

There was a guilty silence from the other end of the phone.

I could almost picture him, hair ruffled and cheeks flushed as he balanced himself on his toes, heart racing as he experienced the rush of adrenaline after finding out his prime number. There would be a pile of messy books next to him, on which the phone was balanced upon. I was completely certain that although his hands were in his pockets, his heart was chest deep and continuously sinking into an ocean of guilt-stricken distress.

   “I’m sorry.”

His voice was breaking up as it carried from him to me. I wondered if it was just the connection or the emotions that were finally spewing out, choking up his throat, swallowing his words.

Tears, hot and full of rage dripped down my nose and onto my hands, steaming.

   “I’m so sorry,”

He’s apologising, Seungcheol, I told myself, but it somehow didn’t seem like it.

I imagined him again, eyes full of relief as he dialled my number. He was carefree now, no more burdens except just the one he had to pass onto me.

   “Forget it, Jihoon.”

   “Cheol-“

   “Thanks anyway.”

And with that, I put the phone down with a trembling sigh, sunk down against the wall to put my head in my arms and I cried.

I didn’t know how long I stayed there, but it was cold when I stood up, stiffness clutching and grasping at every limb of me. I took a peep outside, lifting the blinds with frigid fingers to spy on the outside world. Cars rushed past, their drivers intent on getting to their destinations as quickly as they possibly could. People rushed by too, their heads down and their hands in their coat pockets, the cogs in their brains clicking and whirring as they all hurried along, wrapped in a daze of their own world and thinking.

I could see Jihoon in every passerby’s face, see that crinkled frown of concentration he made when he was thinking about something, see the way he strode along purposefully in every step a stranger took.

It was like he was resurfacing in everyone I saw just to remind me that I had something to do, that I had to figure out my prime number, that I couldn’t live with the curse forever.

And yet, I could see the scorn on his face when he saw me listless and lazy, I could hear his sharp words that cut cleanly into my heart and ripped open healing scars. He had always detested not doing anything, and therefore he always had a glare of annoyance for me every time I made excuses for why I couldn’t do something better than sitting around and cry about my life.

It was heartbreaking.

With a shiver, I turned away from the window and headed out to the door.

You wanted purpose, Jihoon?

I slipped on a pair of running shoes I hadn’t touched in forever and unlocked the door, wincing at the bright light.

Well, I have a purpose now.

And so I was running.

Sprinting, trying to get away from the strangers with condescending sneers and Jihoon’s frown, trying to get away from prime numbers and stupid curses.

Red brick walls plastered with posters and spritzed with graffiti, marked and scarred with messages and memories people had scratched and sprayed upon these walls.

And then as I stood in front of that one, particular wall, built with bricks of memories and bonded together with a friendship that spanned the years, I couldn’t take it anymore.

My eyes darted fleetingly, fickle-minded, over the individual names and signs across the wall that was remembered so fondly by all of us. I scanned the neon pink and the fluoro blue, gazing over the wasted years to a time where I was happy.

The sun was shining on the day that thirteen boys decided to get together and do something blatantly illegal, but recklessly fun. There was no one in this part of the city, and when three groups of adrenaline-dosed friends sprinted out of the inner city to the outskirts, there was nothing but the sound of distant cars and trains rattling by.

There was laughter, and there was teasing. The shaking of graffiti cans along with the spray of paint as we marked our territory. Someone had brought stickers, black with our logo on them, and was plastering them all over the wall like there was no tomorrow.

I was wearing white, a crisp, freshly ironed, the brand-new shirt that I had bought over the weekend. It was a stark difference to the brightly coloured outfits of the rest of the group, and I stood out against the deep red wall like a firework against the chilled night sky.

It was a good standing out and so I was the first to make my mark on the once plain wall.

“Seventeen”, I wrote, in bright and beautiful baby pink, going over it with silver after I finished.

“Very nice,” I wrote, underneath that, in an aqua colour so brilliantly bold that it hurt my eyes to look at it.

There was a loud, collective burst of laughter from behind me, and before I knew it, Jeonghan had sprayed a nice thick line on the back of my shirt.

I remember thinking, “Oh no, I’ll have to wash it,” and then the blaring horn of a truck as it trespassed on my daydream shook me back to reality.

The vibrant hues of the graffiti faded to ghosts of their former colours, and as the memory disintegrated around me, I took a look at my shirt.

Crisp, white, the one shirt I had bothered to iron.

I bet there’s still a line on the back, I thought.

With a sigh, I looked at the wall again, the ghost of a smile just alighting on my lips, tugging them up when I looked at each member’s sign.

Seventeen.

All of us.

I stuck my hands in my pockets and walked away.

There was nothing I could do when the group fell apart, I reassured myself, trying to dispel the gnawing guilt that grew inside me when I thought of Seventeen and our final days together as one.

A voice inside me whispered, “Are you sure?”

I stopped in my tracks.

I could have done something.

As the leader, I was expected to do something.

I could have tried harder to keep us together, but instead, I gave up on Seventeen and I gave up on myself.

With a heavy heart, sinking into my shoes like lead, I spun around and walked back to the wall.

Seventeen.

It was like something inside me shattered and broke into a thousand pieces.

I could feel the mask I plastered over my face crack until I was surrounded by nothing but the fragments of my built up, useless walls and the pieces of a grinning clay mask.

When I blinked again, it was like being young all over again.

The graffiti was bold, daring, alive like the thirteen teenage boys had come back and resprayed their logos.

Everything was awash with colour, even the sky was a chiselled stone, ribboned with white marble that was so much more interesting and demurely fascinating than the lifeless concrete grey that was there before.

I took a good look around, at all the buildings, the chain link fence, the abandoned car parts that would lay there to rust and collapse until grass finally grew over them and laid them to rest.

Then I looked back.

Seventeen.

17.

“That’s it,” I exhaled in relief.

Thanks for reading!

[mestos]

“I’m thankful to God, I see an angel and tears come to my eyes, Hallelujah”

--Jonghyun’s “Hallelujah”, my favourite song.

I want to send him off well, so I apologize in beforehand for this long post.

If you were one of my long-term followers, I assume you know of the time my url was locket-mesti, or locktae, right?

Yeah, there was that time. During early 2014, that was my url instead of what it currently is, mestos. It was a fusion of both the fandom names for a Key Stan and a Taemin stan - locket, and taemint respectively. When I first got into Shinee, I fell in love with Key, but the more I got into it I fell for Taemin as well. During that time I usually changed my url to what fandom I was in, and as I have been in actively in the shinee fandom, that was my url.

I first got into KPOP through SHINee. One of my close friends used to always be on her phone, and because we were allowed to listen to music in class, I always reprimanded her to do her work because I didn’t want to lose that privilege. Then she let me listen to some KPOP songs - introduced me to what I refer to as the “cursed” song because it was too catchy, T-ARA’s Bo Peep Bo Peep - such as SISTAR19′s Ma Boy, Wheesung’s UUU, Super Junior’s Sorry Sorry, etc. 

Then she let me listen to SHINee’s songs.

We watched a couple of their lives together, and I was pretty entranced with the way they danced. Lucifer was perhaps my favourite at the time because it was so catchy. After a time where I came over to her house I decided to look into SHINee, and I was absolutely in love with Jonghyun’s voice. I loved the way he carried those high notes so well, and his vocal range truly astounded me. Although he wasn’t my type at the time, he really stood out with the way he presented himself as a singer. It made him so memorable. 

During that time - even I cringe at the memory - I decided to dwelve into the fandom. I read lots of RPF, had my own share of OTPs, I was just so into Shawol hell. I listened to all their albums, watched all their variety show appearances, kept my favourites on repeat during my tough and hard moments. Eventually, it became a point where I just really loved all five of them equally, and I just say a name if I had to choose. Taemin’s solo got me sold on him, which is why I would say “Taemin” if I were asked to choose a bias, but even so, I loved all of them.

Then Jonghyun’s solo was announced!! I was so happy and proud because in my honest opinion, while Taemin’s was great, Jonghyun was the real singer. His ability to sing will always be at the top and no one will ever surpass his level out of the ones that I love now. I respect him as a musician because of his ability to compose and create songs with lots of feeling as well as showcase them in the greatest way possible. His looks weren’t bad either; after a while, I realized he was the most handsome in the band, with Minho coming second in my opinion. 

Then I listened to the album medley. I knew instantly that all of the tracks would be a massive hit. Hallelujah stood out to me the most, but literally every song was amazing. I highly encourage all of you to listen to it because it was the very first time I’ve ever loved every single song in an album. Not only the music, the music video’s aesthetic was so good - I remember being destroyed when his shirtless scenes came on haha - but in overall; I was just so proud of how far he came. I know I hadn’t been there in the fandom since he debuted, but I did my own backtracking and watched so many appearances and tv variety and interviews and concerts that they held over the years to keep up to date, and really; you’re able to really see how he grew.  

The album also holds some sentimental value to me. A friend of mine who had returned to South Korea had bought me the physical copy, and it was during a time where there was a bit of rift between my friendship circle, so I felt truly blessed when I was able to hold it in my hands. I was so happy, I made a scene in school - I’m embarrassed of it now - when I saw. When I was finally able to look at his photoshoots with my own eyes, in person, and listen to the full version of the bonus track he had for the physical-only copy, I realized that yeah, perhaps Jonghyun would be the man I’d stan after all.

So from that day, I became a bling bling stan. His stans have a funny name, but its catchy, and I’ll never forget it. I’ll always be a bling bling stan forever even if he is no longer here. 

Needless to say, my interest in SHINee gradually declined which I’m sadly guilty of. I returned back to them when they released their beautiful hit comeback “View”, and I loved “Odd Eye” so much. I’m actually listening to it as I type this. It’s definitely one of my most TOP FAVOURITE SONGS in all of the songs I’ve listened to. Watching their promotions, I just grew to love Jonghyun so much. I listened to his Blue Night Radio broadcasts from time to time and I truly admired his character and his overall niceness. I just loved him so much.

And because of that...I also knew he was going through a tough time.

I’m ashamed of...of forgetting.

During that time I was more conflicted because I was going through my own rough edges. I wasn’t able to get over Kris, Luhan and Tao leaving EXO, and I was generally unable to think of any other band than EXO. I became a full EXO-L at the time and arrogantly said “I actually don’t care about SHINee all that much anymore” at some point. Which was dumb, because I also at the time said “I wish I had just stayed in SHINee World so I don’t have to feel this pain”.

As my eventual KPOP frenzy toned down over the years, I still never stopped listening to KJH’s songs. I listened to them wherever I went, because they were always like an angel’s singing to my ears. Hallelujah most especially. I often listened to it as I walked home and tried to clear my thoughts or get them straight. The song got me through my rough times ; when I was at the lowest of the low ; and became one of my saving graces because of how beautiful it sounded. How Jonghyun’s voice sounded.

Just recently, I hadn’t really been into KPOP as much as before...then I hear the news.

It felt like my whole world just broke.

With no exaggeration, I didn’t feel anything at first. Literally. I skimmed through the internet, twitter especially, for anything that would claim this as fake. I literally could not believe that the man with the heavenly voice was gone. 

Then I moved from my chair, opened my light, and picked up the album that I stored away for safe keeping. My hands were shaking as I flicked through the images, took a picture, posted it on Instagram as a tribute, but at that moment I was still in numbing shock.

When I turned off the light, I fell to my knees and hugged the album tightly. My tears just poured out of me as if everything that had been weighing me down was finally being released. I cried for so long, on the floor amid a mess of a room I have, just holding his album tightly. Through the darkness I searched for his face in the posters of SHINee I hung up my wall, through the faintness of the light from the laptop screen, I just stared at his face, unable to face the truth.

I then decided to bite my tears down and found some strength. I put myself back on my chair and took out the CD from the album and opened it on my laptop. I hadn’t listened to Hallelujah in months - perhaps not even this entire year. When I clicked it and I heard his lines, 

“I’m thankful to God, I see an angel and tears come to my eyes, Hallelujah”

I really couldn’t stop myself. I weeped, I sobbed, I couldn’t do anything except cry as the album played. I really didn’t know what else I could do. 

After some time, I found some strength, in the darkness with nothing but the computer screen’s brightness as my light.

After that, it was a bit of a blur. I spoke to a friend, but I forced myself to draw something as I thought it would get my mind busy. Which is why this picture exists; I was projecting my feelings through Illium.

Eventually the official statement came by and I just couldn’t take it anymore. I shut everything off at around 4:30am, and in the dawn with the skies brightening up to signify a new day, I felt nothing but despair.

At night, I had no dreams. I usually have one, but this time, I had no dreams.

When I woke up in the afternoon I felt like I hadn’t slept. I felt nauseous, as per usual. I skimmed through twitter feed and there was nothing but tributes. My eyes were swollen, and my friend came over to stay the night, and the two of us just talked and talked about it.

The day was enjoyable because the two of us were able to comfort each other, but I often cried. Can I just admit I really hate crying? Because contrary to what people say, it doesn’t make me feel better. It makes me feel pathetic. It makes me feel stupid. It makes me feel like I could be using my time doing something else instead of feeling these stupid things spill from my eyes and ruin my face.

Since then, I’ve been empty. Illium and MapleStory have been helping me get my mind busy, but all I was doing was ignoring the problem, which I’m facing now.

One of the reasons why I was so affected by this one celebrity death is because I know how he feels.

My parents tell me I’m not depressed because I have no reason to be. I tell myself I’m not depressed because I have no reason to be.

But do you know how it feels, when nothing in your life is wrong, things are fine, but yet you can’t help but feel empty all the time?

Everything you see is grey. Everything you feel is grey. When you think you’re happy, you can’t tell if you really are or if you’re forcing yourself to be. You feel “fine”, but what is “fine”? You don’t know the definition of happiness. You’re always tired, you always constantly feel like anything you do doesn’t amount to anything. You can’t seem to remember what it feels like to be happy for a long time. Everything you do is sluggish.

But you’re trying.

I read his suicide note, and I understood.

I was never angry at Jonghyun. 

Not once.

Because I know how it feels to fight your way through the darkness. I know how it feels to constantly keep trying to find things to fill the void in your heart that for some reason keeps growing the more you find. I know how it feels to fight the demons within you. I know how it feels to feel like you aren’t living up to expectations. 

Which is why I just want to say, like what everyone else is saying, “You did well.”

You did so well Jonghyun-oppa.

You must’ve been so tired. So, so tired. I’m tired too, everyday, I open my eyes and wonder if today is going to be another grey day or if its going to be blue, because my life doesn’t feel like it has any other colour. Any day you think you’re happy doesn’t last long, any day you feel like it has other colours disappear back into grey. 

I’m so glad you can rest now. I’m so glad you can just lay back and finally, the demons within you won’t bother you anymore. This isn’t a battle lost. This is a battle won, just not in the best of ways, because you can lay back in the heavens like a hero.

You did so well. Your music will forever be my inspiration, your songs will always flow through my ears all the way into my soul.

You did so well. The smiles you put into my face, into everyone’s faces, will never be forgotten.

You did so well.

You did so, so well.

Although I can never ever see you in person, you’ve imprinted yourself into the net and the world in a way that you can never be forgotten.

I love you, Kim Jonghyun. Thank you for being the best Bling Bling is Jonghyun.

Thank you so much.

Rest in Peace.

[crossfitmdi]

Papa & I love mommy!!! #Repost @luisptslopez with @repostapp ・・・ The love of my family is my greatest blessing. This pic is everything I love. My wife & daughter in the gym that allows me to do Papa Dios work. Changing lives through health, fitness & love! Thank you @ltevebaugh for always capturing beautiful moments. This poster was a pic you took of my wife a few weeks after giving birth to my daughter Olivia Lynn. She was cheering me on during the open Friday night lights. I remember this movement now forever. Thank you. Live as an example peeps! Motivation! Dedication! Inspiration! Preserving the Sexy #amrapmentality #livinglegendlou #rhinolou #primetimelou #peacocklou #snackingasslou #snackinandrackin #liveasanexample #thebabyfacedon #questionablelou #godschild #crossfitmdi #cfmdi #crossfit #faith #family #fitness #blessed #health #motivation #dedication #inspiration #orlando #florida #nalgaprobs #spandexkillas #silkykillas #ptsmade (at Crossfit M.D.I "Motivation Dedication Inspiration")