#remaining are busy with their friends and roommates and boyfriends and apparently its enough i can't blame them i get busy with my bf too

[iftitah]

half of my loneliness stemming from not having enough female interaction and constant urge to talk to bf wouldn't have risen if my roommate was a normal person and we'd have had a normal bond

[hopesbarnes]

Rosey Inn

Summary: Ten years ago you left your small town and small-town boyfriend believing you were destined for bigger and better things. But when your mom passes away and leaves the family Inn to you, you’re forced to face all you left behind.

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Maybe two curse words, fluff, angst, loss of parent

Word Count: 6.5k 

A/N: This was written for @wxntersoldiers​ 6k AU Challenge, I had the prompt Roomates!AU. 

Also a huge thank you to @starbxcks​​​ for beta reading this. Love you to pieces. (PS spot the gilmore girl reference and i’ll love you forever)

This was not the plan. None of this was the plan. Your entire life had meticulously put together to reach one goal. And now? Now you’re sharing a house with a boy you haven’t seen in a decade, back in your home town, and owning an inn.

Talk about cliche.

The town of Rose Hill is quaint. One supermarket, one high school, everyone knows everyone’s name quaint. The people are kind and overly lax in security and come together for events. It sits near a beautiful lake and is known for its tourism. The kind of place people dream of living. The perfect American lifestyle. 

Just not your dream. Since you were little you wanted one thing. To be a big shot New York lawyer. The kind that people know will get them off for any crime, and anything. You were going to be the success story of Rose Hill, the one to get out. The one to make it.

And you did. Got accepted into an Ivy League, finished school, and joined a practice. Until you got the phone call, that your mom passed away and left the family business to you. There went all your plans, all your dreams, everything. You were right back where you started in Rose Hill. 

The Rosey Inn was a landmark, built long before your grandparents were even born. Passed down through generations of L/Ns. Each owned/managed the inn and raised their families in it. You spent your childhood hiding in the maids closet, tasting the chef’s recipes, tending to the front garden, and reorganizing the books in the front room. 

You didn’t play alone though, you had Bucky. Bucky Barnes was your best friend and eventual boyfriend. His mom was a maid for the inn, and the pair of you grew up together. He was your everything and first love. But when you left for New York you wanted a fresh start, one that didn’t include the boy who’s life aspirations were to own a hardware store. So you dumped him and left, without saying goodbye. 

Your past was but a distant memory. Until you were back and looking at the familiar inn. 

“Y/N! Oh, how I missed you!” you hear the voice of Wanda, your best friend say.

“What are you doing here!” you ask greeting the red-headed girl. She had moved here Junior year of high school and you became fast friends. She was the only one you had contact with after leaving.

“Well, I took over as nighttime manager. And when I heard about your mom I decided to fill in on daytime until you could move back. I’m so sorry about her Y/N,” she says with sincerity in her voice. 

“She’s been sick for a while, I’m just happy she’s out of pain now,” you say and pull her into a hug.

“I’ll let you settle in, then tomorrow we can go over the inn and what needs to happen.” 

“Thank you Wanda for everything,” you say and head to the house.

The inn set back from the road, with plenty of space in front for parking and picnic areas. Behind it sat a large outdoor eating area, and a gazebo. But if you take the trail to the left, it leads to your childhood home. A three-bedroom house, with two floors and far enough to not be part of the inn, but close enough you could be there in case of an emergency. 

You expected the place to be overgrown and in need of a cleaning, but it looked as new as the day it was built. And a car was out front.

When you get closer to the house the door opens and you swear you jump ten feet into the air, only to hear the voice of the one person you hoped to avoid.

“Been a while sugar,” he says smiling. 

James Buchanan Barnes looks as good as he did ten years ago when you abandoned him. No scratch that, he looked better. The years did him good, his jaw was more chiseled and light scruff covered his face. His arm filled out and he wore a button-down. He looked refined, older but damn good looking.

“Sure has handy boy,” you smile back. “What are you doing in my home.”

“Must have your lines crossed, I live here now,” he says mischief across his face and eyebrow raised.

“In my childhood home?” you ask perplexed.

“Your momma was having a tough time the past few years and needed some help. She said I could live here if I helped her out. And when she got sick she put the house in my name too, saying you would need just as much, if not more, help when you got back.”

“So we’re roommates?” you ask hoping this was all a joke. 

“Sure are,” he smiles, “let me help you with your bag.”

“I have movers coming in a few days with the rest of my things, just brought enough until then.”

You walk into the home and it’s not the dusty and doily place you remember it. The furniture is all-new, and the decor is modern. The living room has a grey fabric couch with navy throw pillows and a coffee table with a cookbook and tray on it. There’s a sleek floor lamp next to it and a flat-screen tv across atop a tv stand with movies neatly packed inside. A soft rug is on the floor with a diamond pattern on it. The entire room looks like a page from a catalog and if your suspicions are right the rest of the house is as follows.

“I took the guest bedroom when I moved in, so your old bedroom is still yours,” he says and you nod heading up the stairs following him to your childhood bedroom. When he opens the door you see it’s the one room that hasn’t changed. It still looks as it did when you were 18 years old and leaving to be on your own. 

“I’m gonna have to update this room!” you say pointing to the outdated poster on your wall. 

“Your mom didn’t want to change it, she insisted it remains the way you left it,” he says with a sad smile. You may have lost your mom, but that didn’t mean he didn’t lose her too. 

“So many memories in this room,” you say and let a few flood back. Bucky’s cheeks heat up and you look down ashamed. He had to be thinking of the time the two of you first made love. You were 17, had the house to yourself, and did what you could on the small twin bed. 

“I’ll leave you to settle in, then we could get dinner?” he asks and you nod. You unpack the few outfits you brought along and mentally map out what furniture you’ll replace with the one from your apartment. After getting a little bit of the initial shock of being back, you sit down and take a deep breath. Not only were you going to be running an inn, but apparently you were going to be roommates with the only man you’ve ever really loved. Life really does throw curveballs, doesn’t it?

· · ──────────·���· ───────── · ·

The rest of the night was slightly awkward. Bucky ordered pizza and the two of you made idle chit chat while eating it. He offered to hang out with you, but you wanted to get up and going early so you decided to retire to your room instead. He gave a pained smile and wished you a good night. 

The next morning you woke up at dawn, a habit you had from being in law. Late nights and early mornings. After showering you get dressed in nice pants, a blouse, and some sneakers since you would be walking a lot today. You made a mental checklist of what needed to be done: meeting with Wanda and looking over the inn, visiting the safety deposit box, and arranging for a storage unit for the rest of your furniture. 

When you got downstairs Bucky was already dressed, in dark jeans and a flannel shirt over a faded t-shirt. 

“Morning,” he said and slid a cup of coffee your way.

“Thanks,” you say and take a sip from the mug. 

“I took the day off from the store and figured I could help you out today.”

“You didn’t need to do that. You’ve already done way more for my family than you ever needed to.”

“I love your family, even used to think they’d be my family one day,” he says. The last part comes out quieter than the rest and you feel a flood of guilt. 

“I’m meeting with Wanda in twenty minutes, but after could you help me run errands around town?” 

“Anything. I gotta fix up the back steps to the inn this mornin’ anyway. Might as well do them now,” he says lowering the coffee cup. He goes across the counter to where his glove is and puts it over his hand. 

Back in high school, he was attempting to make a table for his ma. He got distracted though and sawed into his arm. They had tried to save it, but the damage was done. Word had gone through the town and one woman told her fiancee (who just happened to be Tony Stark CEO of Stark Industries) and Bucky got a state of the art metal prosthetic. But you guess he was still embarrassed by it and hid it around everyone. Everyone but you it seems. 

The meeting with Wanda was exhausting. She went over everything from payroll, to linen deliveries, to the filing system. There was a wedding scheduled three and a half months from now that took the majority of the time, as your mom was originally in charge of the day. But everything seemed manageable with help. You moved Wanda to the official daytime desk manager and promoted Clint Barton to the nighttime manager. Wanda said he functioned best at night anyway. She introduced you to the other members of the team, Vision (her husband) was the head chef. Scott Lang was the bartender at night and events, Peter Parker was the bellhop on duty at the time. She said you would meet the rest of the staff at a later time, and that there weren’t any bad seeds in the bunch.

The two of you ate lunch together in the dining room and she filled you in on the staff gossip, little things to help run the inn better. Like how Clint needed coffee or would forget he was even alive, or how Peter Parker could usually lift more than you’d think but if MJ (his girlfriend walked in) he would almost always get distracted and walk into a wall.

After lunch, you texted Bucky (he had given you his new number last night) and met him at his car. 

“How was lunch,” he asks, walking up to you. His sleeves were rolled up now and he had sunglasses on.  His hair is a mess and his undershirt has paint stains on it. He’s got his toothy grin plastered across his face, and it’s the exact same one you fell in love with as a teen.

“Good, you fix up those stairs?” you ask and get into his car. He had a dark green pickup that was in desperate need of a wash. There was a toolbox in the back, but the front was spotless. 

“Yeah, even painted over them too.” Bucky was always the fixer. Helped out whenever he could, and didn’t mind getting a little roughed up in the process. It was always the biggest difference between you. Your life was carefully crafted and there was no room for mess.

The ride is quiet. You don’t even know what small talk to make with him anymore. Do you bring up sports? Ask about his mom? Tell him about New York? It all seemed too stiff and meaningless. 

You finally get to the bank and he offers to pick up some tea for you and him while you go to empty your mom’s safety deposit box. He knew this was something you needed to do alone, so he gave you your space. 

The bank had one small room of the locked boxes, and the teller came with you holding the second key to the box. Once the box was unlocked you moved to a small table and chair surrounded by walls for privacy. The bank teller leaves you alone with the contents and you take a deep breath in.

Inside the metal box are a few papers, your parent’s marriage certificate, and the deed to the house and the inn amongst them. There are also a few family heirlooms, two necklaces, and a ring. Your great grandpa’s watch is also in the box. But what sticks out is a letter with your name on it. You pull it out and read it.

“Dear Y/N,

If you’re reading this then I’m gone. We both knew this day would come and would bring you home to where you belong. Years ago you left, and I know you needed to do that. You had dreams of a better and bigger life, but you have to know in your heart that Rose Hill is where you need to be. 

I’m sure by now you have seen that Bucky lives in the house. He moved in a few years ago to help me out, and I told him to stay after I go. Y/N, I know you don’t want to hear this- especially from your mother, but he is the one. You two were meant to be. As soon as you stop running from that, you’ll feel at peace. He’s a good man and you need to let him have your heart again.

I trust you’ll handle the inn with grace and hopefully not sell it. It’s been in our family for many lifetimes, and I want it to continue that way. But if it’s too much give it to James. He’s family whether the pair of you are together or not.

Be kind to yourself dear.

Love,

Mom

You place the letter down and let the tears fall. It was too soon, you should have had her longer. And despite your best intentions of coming, staying a few months maybe a year and finding new owners you know you have to stay for good now. And for Bucky, you don’t even know. Bucky was the past, wasn’t he?

After you left the bank you went by a storage place then back to the room. The past three weeks have been a blur. The wedding was in less than three months and the bride decided to change the entire decoration scheme to be more ‘woodsy than classical’ and you were still figuring out what that even meant. Besides that, you were trying to figure out how to run an inn. People required directions you didn’t have so you were overwhelmed. 

Between the running around you were spending all the time you could reading articles and going through the binder your mom kept. You never really understood how much time and energy your parents put into running this place. Growing up you just thought they greeted people and were friends with the staff. It never dawned on you that running an inn is more than just owning the property. 

The spare minutes you had left were spent settling into your old life. Originally you planned to come back for a year and then move back. This was going to be a blip on the radar of your life. But you know now that was unrealistic and this is where you belong. So you officially list your place rather than lease it for a year. You formally quit your job, and you’d still have to fly back eventually for cases next year but that was a ways away. 

In the mornings you shared a coffee with Bucky, and at night the two of you ate dinner together. It was comfortable but awkward. Which was your fault. You knew it was your fault, you broke his heart and left. But you just didn’t know how to fix that. 

Most mornings were silent. You weren’t a morning person and Bucky wasn’t a talker. But today he had something to say. It only took three weeks, but better late than never. 

“Natasha and Steve invited us over,” he says and you nearly drop your cup.

“They got back together?” you ask completely shocked. 

While Wanda was who you stayed in touch with and one of your closest friends, Natasha was your best friend beside Bucky. The two of you met in dance class and became close. In middle school, she started dating Steve, who is Bucky’s best friend. They were the perfect pair, she was the fiery redheaded dancer and he was the timid but loyal baseball player. However, in Junior year of high school, they broke up after Natasha got drunk at a party and admitted that Steve wasn’t her first. 

He had felt betrayed that she lied and broke up with her and she sobbed on your shoulder for a whole week. You and Bucky got in a fight about it too because he had taken Steve’s side and said she shouldn’t have lied. You fiercely defend Natasha though. It wasn’t her fault she had a hookup with an asshole that she tried to forget.

“Yeah. After high school, Steve and I got a place together while we went to the community college. One day we decided to go to a party at the university in the city. And the next day Natasha was in my kitchen. They had a ‘benefits’ only relationship for a few months before realizing they were idiots and got back together officially. Tied the knot maybe four years ago?” he explains. 

“I’d love to see them again,” you say cordially. Hopefully, they didn’t resent you for leaving.

“We’ll go over for dinner?” he asks and you nod.

“I’ll see you later.”

“Good morning!” Wanda sings when you see her. She’s awfully cheery today and dressed up. She has a black lace dress with a high neckline. She’s wearing a pair of velvet burgundy heels and looks stellar. 

“You are way too happy and look amazing today. Why?!” you ask laughing and she laughs with you.

“I may have an appointment with an adoption agency today,” she says smiling.

“WHAT! Oh my god! Wanda, that’s so exciting!” you say and pull her into a hug. Wanda’s wanted kids since you were 16 and found out a few years ago she can’t get pregnant. 

“I don’t want to get too excited because it’s going to take a while. But we’re starting the process,” she says.

“I wish you and Vis the best. I’m so excited Wan.”

The day went by in a flash. Wanda had to leave early so you were on your own for part of the day. But it went good and you were finally feeling like you had this in the bag. 

· · ──────────·🌹· ───────── · ·

You get back from work and change into more casual clothes. When you get downstairs Bucky is waiting in a leather jacket. You can tell he’d showered since work because his hair is still damp and he isn’t covered in his signature dirt and sawdust. 

“Ready?” he asks and you smile. 

“As I’ve ever been,” you say and he leads you out to his truck. Your car had been brought here two weeks ago so you didn’t have to rely on him to drive you everywhere anymore but it made sense to go in one car for this. 

The Rogers live in a nice house with a large backyard across town. It’s no more than a 15-minute drive, and you arrive at the house with a flower garden outside and scattered kids’ toys in the yard.

“They have kids?” you ask your eyes widening at the idea of Natasha Romanoff with children.

Bucky laughs, “Twins! A happy surprise though. You’ll love my godchildren.” 

“You’re a godfather?” you ask trying to not let the sadness of all you missed seep in. 

“Yeah, why they hypothetically trusted me with their literal children I don’t know.” 

The two of you walk up to the door and before you can open it a flash of red hair is seen and then you’re encompassed in a tight hug. 

“I really missed you,” she says and the two of you move in a circle without letting each other go. A few tears fall from your face but you wipe them away.

“Hi Natty,” you say and she smiles pulling apart. She moves your hair from your face and tilts her head at you. 

“If it isn’t my best friend finally. You look amazing. I really missed you,” she says and pulls you into another hug. It seems she holds no malice against you and a weight leaves your shoulders. 

“I missed you too Mrs. Rogers,” you say and tilt your head smirking. 

“C’mon in Steve’s cooking and I have two people for you to meet.”

When you walk into the living room you’re greeted by two three-year-olds. 

“Y/N meet Sarah and James,” she says motioning to the two blondes. “Sarah and James meet your aunt Y/N.”

The two kids wave and smile and say hi synchronously. They were adorable and had Natty’s eyes. 

“No hello to me?” Steve says coming in the room and you walk over and give him a hug. “We missed you here, big shot.” 

“I missed you guys too. All of you,” you say and look over at Bucky. He lets a small smile cover his face but drops it when he sees you looking.

Over dinner, they fill you in on what you missed. After school, Natasha took over the local dance studio and turned it into a competition studio that was doing fairly well. They were winning titles and having girls travel just to be taught by her. Steve on the other hand became a teacher and is teaching high school history as well as coaching the baseball team. It’s as if no time had passed and the four of you are talking like you did growing up. The kids warm up to you and sit next to you and draw pictures with you.  

When their bedtime comes Bucky and Steve wrangle them and agree to read stories, so Natasha pulls you outside to the patio. 

“So,” she says and you give her a confused look. “What’s it like living with your ex-boyfriend?” she says and you gulp.

“Oh. That,” you say. “That is bringing up feelings I don’t want.” 

“I always thought you two would get married at 19. He was so lost after you left. We all were but especially him. And he still looks at you as if you hung the moon.”

“I broke his heart, it’s not fair of me to do this to him again,” you say and she grabs your hand.

“Babe, you were young and messed up. Don’t let that get in the way of your happiness.”

· · ──────────·🌹· ───────── · ·

Natasha’s words hang on your conscious for a while. Every time you look at Bucky for the next two weeks you think of them. 

The two of you start talking over coffee in the morning, and there’s definitely long wanting gazes and the need to be close. He’ll touch your hand when handing you something, and you’ll fix his hair and lay your head on his shoulder while watching movies. 

He tells you jokes over texts and you send him gifs every time he complains about a customer. You were falling back into the way you used to be and you are so happy. 

On Friday he asked if you guys could talk after work. Which was his right, he needed answers and you needed to ask about your mom. It had been two months now since you returned and you needed to air it all out. But knowing this made you feel jittery all day long. You kept spacing out or walking into the wrong room and everyone could tell you were a mess. It got to the point where you were doing more harm than good and Wanda sent you home. 

It turns out that Bucky had finished early that day too because when you got home he was there. 

“Hi,” you say awkwardly.

“Hi sugar,” he says smiling.

“You finished your day handy boy?” you ask and take your jacket off and hang it on the hook.

“Sure did. Only had a few customers at the store and figured I could close up early. And there was no fixing to do at the inn so I figured I would come back and relax for the night. How about you?” 

“Wanda sent me home. Said I was ‘hurting her flow’. You wanna order some food tonight?” you ask trying to keep up some small talk. 

“What I really want is to get drunk and have you be honest with me,” he says bluntly forgetting the politeness his mama taught him. 

“Well, Okay. That- We can do that. Still need some food I’ll order some Chinese.” you say pulling out your phone to order delivery from the shop down the road. 

An hour later the two of you have eaten and are both slightly tipsy. 

“Why’d you break up with me Y/N?” he asks finally.

You turn to him and shrug, “I wanted to be successful and I thought I needed someone who wanted the same success as me. I wanted to leave the past behind and that meant you. But I was too chicken shit to tell you. James, I regretted it every day.” 

He gulps audibly and takes a long swig from his drink. 

“I was so lost. I was going to marry you. Move up north with you. I knew that was where you needed to be and I wanted to be who you needed too.” he says.

“You were who I needed. Still are if we’re being honest. I just didn’t know that then.” you say and look down embarrassed. I thought you’d have moved on now. Settled with a nice girl, maybe Maria or Darcy. Had a few kids.” you admit.

“Can’t settle down when you’re still hung up on a girl,” he says and you look at him.

“Bucky I still love you. But you don’t deserve me. You deserve someone better.” you say. 

“I deserve you. And as much as I want to show you that we’re both drunk and you’re still dealing with grief,” he says.

“So what now?” you ask.

“Now we wait. Make sure this is right and not just unresolved feelings,” he says.

“And if it is?” you ask.

“Then I move out and we pretend this never happened,” he says and downs the rest of his drink. You follow suit. 

“Can I ask something?” you say after a few moments of quiet.

“Anytime sug, I’m an open book.”

“Was she mad? I didn’t come home when she got sick and I barely talked to her after dad died. I should have come back. I was a bad daughter,” you say and a tear falls down your face. He grabs your hand that was peeling a label off the bottle.

“Honey, she wasn’t mad. She was so proud of you. Told everyone about your cases and watched the news whenever you were mentioned. You made her so proud.”

“Thank you for being there for her.”

“She was my family too. I think we should get some rest though. It’s been a long night,” he says and you nod and head up to your room.

The next morning you wake up with a headache but see medicine and water on your bedside table. It’s then you decide that you were gonna try to make it up to Bucky. There was a chance to mend this and have the relationship you once had, and you had to take that chance. No way were you losing this man again. Once was hard enough. So you decide this time around you have to court him.

When the pair of you were young, only 13, Bucky had learned from Natasha through Steve at the time that you liked him. So he made it his mission to properly court you. It had started with notes and small trinkets, and after two weeks he knocked on your door with two bouquets of flowers (one for your momma and one for you) and asked your parents if it was alright if the pair of you dated. 

They had of course said yes, knowing Bucky his entire life and planning your wedding with his parents when you were still kids. But back then you didn’t break his heart. Now you needed to figure out a way to mend it. 

· · ──────────·🌹· ───────── · ·

There were two weeks until the wedding and you decided you needed to ask Bucky to be your ‘date’ there. He was obviously already invited because he was needed to make sure nothing broke and if it did it could be fixed. But you wanted him there as yours.

You woke up the next day early and went into town to get his favorite bagels and a rose. You got back to the house just as he made it downstairs and gave him the flower and food.

“Thank you? Why go through the hassle when we have food here?” he asks.

“I’m wooing you.”

“Doll, you do not need to woo me. I’m already wooed!” he says laughing.

“No, I messed up. And you deserve to be properly apologized to. So I’m wooing and you’re going to let me.”

“Okay,” he says shaking his head and taking a bite from his bagel. 

Day one: success. 

Day two starts when he gets back from work. You tell him that the pair of you are going on a date and tell him to wear a good pair of shoes. He gives you a weird look but agrees. You bring him to a club outside of town and once he sees it he can’t stop laughing. 

When you and him were 16 you decided to try and get into a club. You both had horribly made fake ids and dressed up to look older. You were obviously turned away, but his car had refused to start after all that effort. So you both danced outside to his mp3 player while you waited for AAA to show up. 

“I figured we could recreate that night, without AAA and the awful heels,” you say and he nods his head. You pull into the abandoned lot you spent hours in years ago. After parking, you grab your phone and put on a playlist of songs that were popular at that time and spend the next two hours just dancing. Completely embarrassingly and in a way nobody your age should. But it’s nice and the pair of you just let go.

Days three and four aren’t that eventful as you both have a lot of work. So instead you hide little notes throughout his things both days. They’re nothing special, just enough to let him know you’re thinking of him and how much you like him. 

Day five you greet him after he closes the hardware store with a vintage Brooklyn Dodgers hat. His grandpa had loved the team and told Bucky all about them. You had to scour online for the hat and it was worth it when you saw the look on Bucky’s face. His eyes widened and he pulled you into a close hug. You would never admit it to him but you took a deep inhale of his scent.

Day 6’s plans were changed when Steve called and said Nat didn’t feel good and wondered if you would take the twins for the day and night. You told them you had to check with Bucky but would head over as soon as you heard from him. 

Bucky of course was over the moon to have the kids over so you went and grabbed them after hanging up with him. When you got there Steve had packed each kid an overnight bag and handed them to you with their blankets and stuffed animals. Apparently Bucky bought them for the twins when they were born and they refused to sleep without them. 

The twins were ecstatic to sleepover ‘aunt y/n and uncle Bucky’s place’ and babbled to each other the entire drive. You got there and saw Bucky’s truck so you figured he took the rest of the say off for the kids. 

The rest of the day was spent running around the yard and showing the kids the inn and it reminded you so much of your childhood with Bucky. You wouldn’t mind your own kids playing here too you think to yourself. 

After getting the kids to eat dinner and putting them to bed in the guest room you’re wiped and fall asleep with Bucky on the couch. 

You wake up early the next day to little hands patting your shoulder. You manage to get up without waking up Bucky and bring the kids to the kitchen. Day 7 would be breakfast in bed you suppose. 

· · ──────────·🌹· ───────── · ·

It was one week now until the wedding and you were stressed. The mothers decided to come in now and make your life a living hell by trying to undo everything the couple had done. Thor and Jane had made it perfectly clear to ignore their parents and you were doing your best to.

You told Bucky to meet you at the inn today since you couldn’t make it out to him, and when he arrived you had Vis make your lunch and the two of you picnic in the garden. 

Day 9 was a big one because you were asking Bucky to be your date today. You lit candles around the house and had a big sign asking him to be your date. It mimicked how he asked you to prom all those years ago.

You got dressed up and waited impatiently for him to come home. When you heard his car you dimmed the lights in the house and held the sign for him to read. He came in and smiled at your setup.

“Doll, of course, I’m going to be your date,” he says laughing and pulls you close to him.

“You know you don’t need to do the rest of your wooing. We can just make it official now,” he says and you shake your head. 

���James Buchanan you let me finish my last 5 days.” 

“I just want to kiss you,” he whines and you laugh at his frustration.

“Soon Handy Boy I promise.”

Day 10 you go to the old drive-in theater with him. Wedding prep is just about done and you had the night off. You fill his truck with blankets and pillows after telling him the plan and having him grab snacks and drinks for you both.

The place is playing Edward Scissorhands and Beetlejuice in a Tim Burton back to back showing and it’s a good excuse to spend the night watching good movies and snuggled close to the man you love.

Day 11 and 12 you bake for him. The first of two nights cookies, the second muffins. He thanks you for both but asks if you’re trying to Hansel and Gretel him.

Day 13 was the day before the wedding and the entire family had come into town. The entire inn was rented out to the Foster-Odinson clan. It was all hands on deck and it was the fullest you’ve seen the inn yet. But despite the craziness, everything runs smoothly. 

Midway through the day Wanda gets a call she was approved to adopt and was so excited she yelled it out. The entire place let out collective squeals (even people who had no clue who Wanda was) and the day just had a good tone to it.

For the last day before the wedding, and your last night of the ‘wooing’ you cook Bucky dinner. He’s surprised by the fact the house doesn’t burn and compliments your meal at least ten times. You tell him about Wanda and Vision.

“Do you want kids?” he asks and you nod.

“I want a bunch of kids. I want to raise them here too. With you,” you say and he chokes on his drink.

“God Doll, I want that too but don’t be that blunt about things. I’m getting older, don’t need a heart attack.” You laugh and he smiles. 

· · ──────────·🌹· ───────── · ·

After what feels like a lifetime the day is finally here. You’re up and out of the house before Bucky even wakes. He’s sleeping in since the store is closed today and he doesn’t have to be at the inn until 11 am. 

The bride and her bridesmaids are all drinking coffee and nibbling on light pastries when you get there. The makeup and hair team she hired should be here in around an hour. Jane has gel eye patches beneath her eyes and one of the bridesmaids still has their hair in a towel. 

After checking that they’re all there and everything is running smoothly you check in on the kitchen staff. They all say things are on schedule and you nod and go to find Scott to ensure that the bar is fully stocked.

On your way to check with Scott, you find Peter carrying the suits up to the groomsmen and he wishes you a good morning. Scott, you find a few minutes later organizing the liquor. Everything seems to be running smoothly.

A few hours go by and it’s an hour until the wedding starts. You thank your lucky stars that everything runs smoothly as the guests start showing up. You feel a tap on your shoulder and turn to see Bucky in a suit. He looks fantastic and you practically drool.

“How’s my favorite wedding coordinator,” he asks and you smile.

“She’s fantastic. How’s my favorite handy boy,” you ask in return.

“He wants to know if he’s waited long enough for his kiss.” You laugh at him.

“He has. He should know that there’s a certain girl fully in love with him who would die for a chance to be his girlfriend again,” you say laying it all out.

Bucky smiles widely, “I love you too Y/N. It would be an honor to be yours again.” 

Before you can reply to him he pulls you close and smashes his lips against yours. There’s so much want and need in the kiss and you can almost feel the years lost in it. He doesn’t hold back at all and reaches one arm around you to pull you as close as possible. The other holds your hand and he keeps his lips moving in time with yours. 

And you know that it’s everything you need. He’s everything you ever need. 

[relaxedreptile]

Mend

Pairing: Hyunjin X Reader

Swearing. Jealousy. Mentions of a breakup.

A/N: This idea sort of just... came to me a few days ago and I busted this out. It’s a bit heavier and more angsty than I wanted, but I hope you all like it! 

I’m still working on a very long piece for Hyunjin and a few more requests in my asks, please look forward to what’s coming!

Also, what do you all think of GO LIVE? Personally, I’ve had it on repeat since it came out!

Stay cool.

-

“Hey! I know we planned on hanging out tonight but Changbin and I are kind of on a roll here with this song of ours and the deadline is only in a couple days so we’re really desperate to keep this going and-“

“And you won’t be coming home to watch a horror movie with me?”

“Or a cheesy rom-com, we never really decided.”

You and Chan were best friends. After showing up to your first day at your shared university, Chan was introduced to you as your tour guide during freshman orientation. While everyone else in your group hung back and anxiously glanced around at the foreign environment, you and Chan instantly hit it off and continued a conversation at the front of the crowd for the entire tour. 

He told you about growing up in Australia and his love for music (you tried to hide your giggle when he mentioned him and his friends’ Soundcloud endeavors) whereas you talked about all the classes you were taking and your dream career.

Meeting Chan took a lot of pressure off of your shoulders when it came to starting at a new school and embarking on a new stage of your life. Not only did he restore your faith in nice people still existing, but he gave you advice on teachers, told you the best places to hit up for snacks during a late night study session, and you got to meet all of his friends.

You got to meet Hyunjin.

Hyunjin was your age, two years younger than Chan, and one of Chan’s honorary brothers. They met through Minho, another boy in the group, who was partnering with Hyunjin on choreography and went to Chan for music to use. 

Honestly, you’d be surprised if anyone met your eight stray boys and didn’t want to get close to them; their charm is hard to resist.

And, unfortunately for you, so is Hyunjin’s.

You occasionally saw each other when the nine of you hung out as a group, greeting each other upon arrivals and exits, waving when you saw each other on campus. Soon, that grew into you guys gravitating towards each other at hangouts (sitting next to each other and sharing a bowl of popcorn on movie night, stepping out for fresh air together during one of Jisung’s big parties) and making plans on your own without the rest of the boys. It was no surprise to the rest of the group when Seungmin called you while you were on your first official date with Hyunjin and had to explain what you were doing (and why you would have to hear about how annoying Jisung was being at another time).

You and Hyunjin’s relationship, despite your fears, didn’t disrupt the dynamic of your friend group. Splitting your guys’ time between dates and takeout dinners with the boys was easy and your lives almost barely changed once you became official.

Which was the problem.

While behind closed doors you and Hyunjin were as “lovey-dovey” as they come (“get a room, you two!”), the rest of your college campus just saw you two as the best friends you had been for the months between meeting and getting together.

It left a sour taste in your mouth every time someone asked if you could hook them up with Hyunjin and it was like a punch to Hyunjin’s throat every time someone made a suggestive comment about how you looked that day in front of him.

It was what eventually broke you guys up, all the jealousy and occasional bickering over people who were “just friends”. You two were the only people on each other’s radar through and through, but insecurity is a powerful thing.

It was a rough breakup. You didn’t leave your room for a full 29 hours (Jeongin timed it) and finally walked out with a tear-streaked face and hoodie (that may or may not have been Hyunjin’s). 

Hyunjin poured everything he was feeling into his dancing and his performance at your university’s end-of-year showcase almost had you tearing up all over again; everyone was moved by Hyunjin’s choreography, but you were the only person in the audience who knew the whole story and therefore, felt it the most. 

The slight distance between you and all the boys that summer after your freshman year had ended had worked to ease some of the lingering tension between you and your ex-boyfriend. The two of you were able to grow back into a friendship once the new fall semester reunited the nine of you but things could never really go back to the way they used to be, regardless of the presence or absence of romance.

That didn’t stop either of you from staying close to the other boys and you and Chan were still as inseparable as ever. He was hard at work right now, trying to wrap up his and Changbin’s senior project (Jisung is still pissed that he isn’t allowed to help), but you two had decided to hangout tonight to make up for Chan’s busy schedule.

“Are you sure you won’t be back anytime soon? I can wait,” your tone was pleading.

You could hear Chan talking, but it was too muffled to make out what he was saying; you figured he was speaking to Changbin.

“Tomorrow’s the only day of the week that Changbin doesn’t have an 8-am, so he wants to stay here no matter what but all of our work is on my laptop and I kind of need that tomorrow for my 8-am but he probably won’t be awake early enough to-”

“You owe me, Christopher.” You only ever used his English name to tease him. This way, he would know you weren’t actually mad, even if your disappointment was genuine. 

You hung up while Chan was mid-apology, shooting him a quick test saying you “got it” with a couple of hearts.

Your phone was left discarded on Chan’s kitchen counter as you munched on a piece of pizza; you had made it to Chan’s apartment about fifteen minutes before he called and you weren’t really in a rush to go back to your small stuffy dorm room and loud roommate.

Chan lived in an apartment off-campus with Changbin and Jisung which acted as an unofficial go-to for your friend group; one of you was usually sleeping on the couch, taking advantage of the insanely fast WiFi, or clearing out their fridge regardless of the actual owners were home.

This was the reason why you didn’t look up from your sad dinner when you heard the front door open, assuming it was just a pouty Jisung or hungry Felix.

However, the voice that greeted you was neither as animated as Jisung’s nor deep as Felix’s.

“Y/N?”

The final piece of the crust almost got stuck in your throat.

You hummed a response, still chewing and starting to formulate an escape plan.

“Is Changbin here? He left his notebook at my place and I think there are some lyrics in it, he told me to drop by to give it to him.”

You gaped at Hyunjin, surprised at how similar your situations were. Your explanation of what Chan had said was quick, hoping it would get Hyunjin out of the apartment as soon as possible.

It’s not that you didn’t want to be around Hyunjin, it’s just that you two hadn’t hung out alone since your breakup and the two of you hanging out together in this apartment at this counter was a little too familiar.

“Do you mind if I wait with you, then? I’ve barely eaten all day and this pizza smells a little too good to ignore.”

He was already seated in the stool next to yours before you could get a word out. You nodded anyway, though, and pushed the stack of paper-thin napkins the pizza place had given you between the two of you.

“Have Chan or Changbin showed you the song so far?” Hyunjin said with a mouthful of cheese and tomato sauce.

Even while eating he looked perfect; his lips glistened with the oil from the pizza slice in his hands and anyone could admire his toned forearms thanks to the way he pushed up his sleeves to avoid staining.

“No, but I haven’t even bothered asking,” you told him, “I figured they were keeping everything top-secret until the showcase.”

“I tried bringing them some food the other day before class and Changbin basically shoved me back out the door,” Hyunjin giggled. “The same thing happened to Jeongin, apparently.”

“If they could resist Yang Jeongin what chance do I have?” You joked.

Except, Hyunjin didn’t laugh, he was completely silent; even his chewing had stopped. You couldn’t think much of it, the boy next to you snapped out of it quickly.

“I keep forgetting that they won’t be here next year.”

They, Chan and Changbin and Minho, the three seniors in your friend group. 

“I’ve been avoiding thinking about it,” you admitted. “I’m mostly worried for Jisung, honestly, he’s losing his best friend and his group-mates all in one year.”

This was partly true. Jisung’s best friend, Minho, was indeed graduating along with 2/3 of 3RACHA, but you weren’t worried about Jisung having to adjust to the change. It was actually Hyunjin you worried for the most; he was the most sensitive person in your friend group and tended to be apprehensive towards change. Not seeing three of your favorite boys around campus was going to be hard for all remaining six of you, but Hyunjin was terrified of being left behind or replaced. 

“But… but they’ll still be living here!” You quickly added, gesturing to the apartment the two of you were in. “They’ll still be here with us, really.”

“I’m going to have to find a new partner,” Hyunjin tried masking his sadness with a weak smile.

Your instincts kicked in, making you place a gentle hand on Hyunjin’s arm. You stroked your thumb back and forth along his sweatshirt, hoping he could feel the comforting gesture underneath all the fabric.

“Didn’t Felix tell you? He’s planning on switching his major after this year! He wants to go into dance, too.”

Hyunjin turned his body to face yours, your hand losing its grip and falling back down to your side.

“He’s changing his focus at the end of sophomore year?” 

You shrugged. “It was his last chance to do it. You know how much he hated finance.”

Hyunjin nodded. “He only kept up with that for as long as he did for his parents; I’m glad he finally has the chance to do what he’s always wanted to.”

You were in agreement there; Felix had finally prioritized his own happiness.

“And this way you don’t have to worry about a new partner!” You tried sounding hopeful, knowing that while Felix would be a healthy addition to the dance department at your university, Hyunjin would take losing Minho hard; he was basically his mentor.

“And… and I’ll still be here. When-If you need me.”

The two of you locked eyes. Fear rose up your spine, chilling your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps.

With a flash of his pretty smile, Hyunjin instantly calmed your nerves.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

You cocked your head to the side, not sure what Hyunjin was getting at. 

He turned away quickly, starting to fidget with the pretty rings on his pretty fingers. 

“With Chan leaving and all.”

“Oh. I mean… I’ll obviously miss him like everyone else, but he won’t be too far away. As long as he gives me my movie nights I’ll manage.” You joked.

Hyunjin glanced back up at you, his eyebrows slightly scrunched in thought.

“Was this a date?”

You visibly jumped back into your seat. “What?”

“For you and Chan.”

“Oh. Wait, what?”

The boy in front of you got up off his stool, walked a few steps away from you, crossed his arms and stopped.

“I thought you two were a thing now. You had always been so close and I thought… since we… after I… I figured you guys would’ve made it official by now.”

“Hyunjin… Chan and I are just friends.” What had gotten into him? “That’s all we’ve ever been.”

“Are you sure?” Hyunjin’s voice was getting louder, his fists getting tighter.

You opened your mouth to respond with a little attitude, but Hyunjin beat you to it.

“I know you weren’t planning on finishing this pizza all by yourself and people don’t usually go on movie dates,” he scowled while saying the words, “alone.”

“I never called it a date, you’re the one who started using that word.”

“Well, what else am I supposed to think? When you and I started spending time together without the other guys we were dating within weeks and you and Chan have always been basically inseparable-”

“Is that what this is actually about?”

“-and it doesn’t help that you always wear his sweatshirts around now or crash at his place all the time. You’re practically throwing it in my face-”

“There’s nothing to throw in your face, Hyunjin.”

“-that I’ve been replaced!”

Hyunjin regretted the word as soon as it left his pretty lips. He started blinking quickly and licking his lips, anything to distract him and keep him from running his mouth again.

“Replaced?” You repeated. “I… I haven’t… I’m not trying to replace you, Hyunjin.”

Silence.

“All eight of you guys have your own place in my life, they can shift and change regardless of what the other ones are doing. And, frankly, you’re making it sound like I’m just trying to check all of you off of a list, as if I’m here solely to get with you guys at one point or another.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Hyunjin said quickly. “It’s just… all I do is think about us and what we had whenever I see you. And right now, I see Chan in the same places that I used to be and it hurts. It really fucking hurts!”

Hyunjin’s eyes were wet, the dim kitchen light reflecting off the trails down his cheeks.

“I thought I would be able to deal with the breakup better if we kept our distance but when summer ended and we came back… all of a sudden, the spots next to you on the couch were always already taken, you were already partnered with someone else in class before I could even get halfway to your seat, I felt… I feel like you don’t need me anymore, that I’m a random leftover piece next to a puzzle that’s already finished.”

You forced yourself not to point out how these fears that both of you shared were what pushed your relationship to its breaking point. Now wasn’t the time.

“I thought that the distance was best for both of us,” you started. “But… I would be lying if I said I didn’t miss you, miss what we had. I miss you, Hyunjin, I miss us. We were friends before we started dating and I thought that that meant it was possible for us to revert back to that stage in our relationship but every joke you made or smile you gave me just kept my feelings for you right where they were.”

You got up slowly, inching towards the sniffling boy.

“Of course I still need you,” you whispered, “I want you in my life.”

Your arms wrapped around the neck of the boy you loved, pulling him close into your body as your shared tears left their mark on your clothes. 

“There’s always a space for you when it comes to me, whether or not that’s a good thing. You don’t have to compete with anyone for my time or love.”

You both knew you weren’t just speaking about Chan or even the rest of your friend group but also the people around campus and in the city who had caused such an insecurity to grow within both of you.

“We have a lot to work on, don’t we? If this is going to work?”

You didn’t answer, you couldn’t, you just squeezed Hyunjin tighter to give yourself the courage you knew you would need in preparation for what would come with the future.

The future with Hyunjin by your side.

[acsversace-news]

One year ago “The Man Who Would Be Vogue” aired

The murder of Gianni Versace turns the eyes of the world onto Miami Beach.

Listen to Vanity Fair’s “Still Watching: Versace” review of episode 1 along with an interview with Ricky Martin

Reviews

A hypnotizing, wordless first act, backed by a rousing string-heavy score, gives a Shakespearean start to the whole endeavor, echoed, of course, in the horror of the murder by gunshot that left Versace bleeding to death at the front gate of his home in 1997. - The Daily Beast

Murphy delights in showing monsters up close, as he does in American Horror Story, but he’s most poignant when he probes how real-life monsters became that way. The Assassination of Gianni Versace allows Murphy to do what he does best: make viewers understand — but not empathize — with the devil. And only Murphy could achieve the delicate balance of vilifying a person without vilifying an entire culture — exactly what kept the case from having the same kind of cultural impact that O.J. had. That long overdue impact can now finally occur in Murphy’s dramatic retelling. - TV Guide

Ryan Murphy’s latest season of his pop procedural anthology, American Crime Story, covers the 1997 shooting of Versace in nine fifty-minute episodes; and yet so un-boring is the pilot that we see the murder seven minutes in. The twinky killer, Andrew Cunanan, is a fantasist played with a cold and twitchily unreal demeanor by the android-perfect Darren Criss. Introduced as an unreliable narrator, then a Ripley-esque savant at social climbing, he creates two big impressions: one in a scene that shows him covering his mouth in a pantomime of horror when he’s really smiling, and another that’s a bona fide showcase for his ass. He’s closeted around his straight friends, gay around his gay friends, and completely unashamed to say out loud that his objective is to “tell people whatever they need to hear”—a primo marker for a sociopath.  - Garage

“The Man Who Would Be Vogue” was quite simply one of the best first-episodes of a show I’ve seen in a while. Relying on sweeping visuals over dialogue, and allowing gaudiness to exist beside sincerity, it gripped me right away. While we know this is not a happy story and it doesn’t end particularly well, it does feel as important and timely as ever, much like its predecessor The People v. O.J. Simpson. It remains to be seen whether this season will catch on with viewers and critics like that one did, but either way it’s hard not to be grateful for something this special. - Yahoo

The performers of The Assassination of Gianni Versace are all acting at the top of their game. Just like how The People v. O.J. showed us actors and actresses in a new and interesting light, Assassination captures the spirit of Versace’s loving sister and business partner, Donatella, through a strong performance by Penelope Cruz. Musician Ricky Martin acted in Argentinian television programs at the start of his career, and his appearance in Assassination is enough to make you think he never left the craft. Darren Criss is versatile in his intense portrayal of serial killer Andrew Cunanan. The first episode shifts between a couple of different moments in time, and Criss’ Cunanan is sometimes enigmatic, sometimes detestable, and always engaging. In one moment he shares with Ramirez’ Versace, I could have sworn he was channeling Christian Bale’s portrayal of Patrick Bateman in American Psycho. And that’s one of the major things that sets Assassination apart from O.J.: it’s clear that Assassination will be spending much more time inside of the suspect’s head. In O.J. there were so many fascinating characters and so many unusual things going on that we often only viewed Cuba Gooding Jr.’s O.J. from other characters’ perspectives. Trust me: Assassination is not lacking in fascinating characters, but it does seem to be taking much more time to dwell on the actions of Cunanan than O.J. ever did with, well, O.J. - Horror News Network

Penelope Cruz, who is apparently a friend of Donatella’s and has her blessing, has a tall order to serve. First, the voice. Anyone who knows anything about Donatella Versace knows that her distinct looks comes with an equally distinct accent. Cruz has to play it believably, without dipping into caricature or being so true to life that the audience can’t understand her. Second, she finds herself playing the day to day villain for much of this. She’s the one who dislikes the boyfriend that we’ve all fallen in love with after the cops are so rude to him. She’s the one who cancels the IPO. She’s the one with a sizeable reputation preceding her. And yet, Cruz’s Donatella comes across as powerful, stricken, at a lost, and completely unwilling to lose an inch of her brother’s legacy. - Den of Geek

Seriously, though, this first episode of Versace is absolutely gorgeous. Just think about all of the lush images that pop out of the screen like an IMAX version of a Vogue issue. There’s the elegant pool of the opera singer’s sequin dress as she belts on stage. There’s Gianni Versace (Edgar Ramírez), delicately sipping his espresso from a black gilded cup, shot from above so his breakfast table is just off center of the Medusa logo that he made famous. There’s the hollow chime of crystal champagne flutes clinking together on the set at the opera. There’s Gianni’s sister Donatella (Penélope Cruz), with that famous platinum hair and doorknocker of a nose standing at the top of a little portico. And let us not forget that perfect peach emoji of an ass as Andrew Cunanan (Darren Criss) strides into his roommate’s husband’s closet to steal a suit. - Vulture

Season two, by contrast, packs a gilded punch. The first episode bounces between the slaying of Versace to his first encounter, in a San Fransisco gay club, with Cunanan. The future killer is a Walter Mitty-like social climber whose life is wallpapered with so many habitual lies it’s unclear whether even he knows truth from fiction. Preppy of manner and soulless of gaze, he gives Murphy something the Simpson case lacked – an unambiguous villain scary even when he isn’t shooting dead international fashion designers. - Telegraph UK

But there’s pain in Andrew, too. Recall how he screams into the ocean water during his pre-slaying swim, how he vomits into a public toilet as he works up the nerve to pull the trigger. When he bullshits his way into Versace’s presence and winds up attending the opera for which he���s the costume designer, the music moves him to tears. After the show, he clearly wants to believe all the kind, supportive things Gianni is saying about him as they hang out on stage together. (And there’s every reason to believe Gianni means every word, him being such a mensch.) Andrew sucks people in with lies and sucks life out of his resulting proximity to wealth, glamour, sex, and power to fill a hole in his heart, yes, but his heart really does exist. He’s a vacuum, not a void. It’s a subtle distinction, but so far it seems to be a crucial one. - Decider

It is, rather, a bold, ambitious, riveting wrestling match between cultural shame and communal pride, in which glittering wedding gowns and glossy magazines, club hits and tank tops, are emblems for which we choose the meaning, just as we might choose to adopt as our own that unutterable word, that unforgivable commonplace, that useful descriptor—that reclamation. As the designer says of the “Versace bride,” preparing for a fashion show, “She won’t be dainty. She won’t be timid. She will be proud and strong.” I realize now, upon finishing what may be Murphy’s riskiest and most radiant gambit to date, that as I grow older, and more comfortable in my own skin, I’m not only able to hear the sentiment, but also to identify with it. - Paste Magazine (warning for slurs)

Other links:

Ricky Martin on ACS: Versace, Coming Out, and ‘Normalizing’ Open Relationships

Yahoo Entertainment’s meme recap

ACS Versace Soundtrack and Score Spotify Playlist

Fandom score: 9.255

Episode rank: #5

Behind the Scenes

[hrrystys]

Selfish | Chapter 2

Summary: everyone has demons, even harry styles, but what happens when it gets in between him and the person he loves most?

Word Count: 2,391

selfish masterlist

Grayson walked inside her warm apartment and immediately smelled the pizza that must have been delivered just a few minutes before she approached the house. She smiled and peaked her head around the entry way and saw her boyfriend putting two slices out on a plate.

“Hey, my love, perfect timing. I hope you don’t mind Amelia let me in.” Reece smiled at her, holding the plate out for her to grab.

“Yeah thanks.” She forced a smile and tossed her bag down next to the door. The blonde moved and looked up into Reece’s dark brown eyes, her heart skipping a beat. “You okay, Gray?” he tilted his head to the side, a small smile on his lips.

“Yeah, I’m fine! Class was just really boring today and I’m a bit stressed about finals. But I won’t be okay if you call me that again. You know I hate it.” She smiled up at Reece. The blonde leaned up and gently kissed Reece’s soft pink lips. “Thanks for the pizza.” Reece nodded, plopping down on the closest chair, immediately devouring his slice of pizza.

This was normally the girls favorite part of the day, coming home to someone she loved, putting on Netflix, and falling asleep in his arms. Today was different. Today was the day she got a phone call that shook her world.

“Harry…Hi.”

“Grayson. It’s really you.” His tone sounded like he couldn’t actually believe it was her on the other end. “I can’t believe you picked up.”

“Whose phone are you calling me from?” The blonde asked quietly. Since that dreadful night Harry had done nothing but blow up her phone. First it was a million text messages a day with a matching number of missed calls. It turned into baskets sent to her dorm, and flowers, and any other type of gift you can imagine a pop star could send. She had to beg her mom to stop giving Harry her address at the beginning of each new school year. She had even contemplated changing her phone number. The pain of talking to Harry was too much to bare, ignoring him made it a bit easier each and every day. After a year Harry’s million text messages turned into a text once a month, and the most recent year had led to a text and a gift on her birthday and on Christmas. The gifts were sent to her house and remained unopened. That was it. The only contact she had from Harry, and she never replied to any of it. The most recent year, the third, it had been radio silence and Grayson almost found herself missing Harry’s name pop up as a text. But if she had known this was him calling she would have sent it straight to voicemail, just like all the others.

“We haven’t spoken in three years and that’s what you’re asking. Where I’m calling from?” Grayson was silent, Harry’s words were sharp and he sounded angry. He should be angry for how she had treated him.

“I…” she didn’t know what to say.

“Grayson please, just listen to me. I’ve just finished my promo and I miss you. Please. Meet me?”

“Harry I…I don’t know.” The blonde was sitting on the front steps of her building trying her hardest not to cry. “Please just think about it? I haven’t seen you in three years. I’m done touring, I need my best friend. Whenever I head home you’re conveniently on holiday. Please, just…consider it will you?” Grayson was silent on the other end, she had no words. What was she supposed to do? Meet Harry for coffee and have a nice chat about life. “I’ll be in London at the end of the week. I can send you a car and-…”

“No. No cars, Harry. Just –…Just let me think, okay. Just let me think.” Grayson’s breathing was heavy and her heart beat was rapidly increasing. She felt like she had been on the phone for an hour, but only five short minutes had passed since the beginning of the conversation.

“Call me at the end of the week, when you’re in London. I’ll think about it.”

“Okay.” Harry’s voice wasn’t as enthusiastic as at the beginning of the conversation, he had assumed Grayson would be ecstatic to hear his voice, to see him, to be around him again. “I’ll call you later then.”

“Bye Harry.”

Grayson was absentmindedly eating her pizza, Reece was laughing at some corny joke from Friends and she caught him glimpsing at her out of the corner of his eye.

“Reece, you okay there? You keep looking at me like I have ten heads.” She laughed lightly as she finished off her last bite of dinner.

“Can’t I just admire how beautiful my girlfriend is?” he smiled sliding closer to the blonde on the couch, his right arm wrapping around her shoulders. “Well if you put it that way, you can look at me as much as you like.” He kissed the top of her head, his smile never once fading.

Grayson had met Reece on campus one day, a complete accident truly. He nearly ran into her while he was on his bike. The tall boy was late to his class and he hadn’t been paying much attention to where he was going; instead he almost hit her but instead swerved out of the way and sent himself flying over the handlebars. The blonde had rushed after him to make sure he was okay and all he said was, “You’re so beautiful, I must be falling for you.” The rest was history, they had been together for almost a year and he had been spending most nights at her apartment since then. The pair were inseparable, and they kept no secrets…until Harry Styles had found his way back into Grayson’s life just a short while ago.

                                                     ***

“Grayson?” The blonde was woken up to her best friend and roommate, Amelia, knocking on her door. “Grayson, you heading to class today?” she asked softly. The blonde looked to her clock and frowned, she had already slept later than she planned.

“No, I just have some studying to do is all. Finals coming up and all.”

“Oh okay perfect!” her friend squealed and plopped onto her bed. “I saw Reece leave without you this morning so I kind of figured you weren’t going.”

“Nope, I’m pretty much done. I have one class tomorrow then finals.” She smiled at her brunette roommate. Amelia had always been what Grayson liked to call “a vision of beauty”. Her friend had perfect olive skin, beautiful dark brown almond shaped eyes, and long black hair that reached her waistline. The brunette beauty was slim, but curvy, and many times over Grayson had tried to convince her to model. Even early in the morning her wavy hair and sleepy eyes were stunning.

“Great! You can come and spend the day shopping with me! I need some retail therapy, the guy I thought was going to be real boyfriend material was actually the fucking worst.” She laughed, her smile bright and white. “How is it that you cannot find someone worth your time? You’re beautiful, smart, and funny!” Grayson put her arm around her friend and gave her a light squeeze. “I just don’t get it.”

“I know! I’m pretty great.” The brunette joked and leaned her head on Grayson’s shoulder. “But not everyone can find a Reece. Ya know?”

“Yeah, well you’ll find someone just as amazing. Now let me shower and I’ll get ready to hit the shops.”

“Great! Want some coffee??” “Yeah, I’ll be quick. Thanks, love.” The blonde winked at her friend before rushing to the bathroom to let the warm water wash away any thoughts of Harry.

                                                     ***

Grayson had hoped a warm shower and a cup of coffee would clear her mind of any and all thoughts of Harry Styles she had looming in the back of her mind. In truth, the alone time caused her to think only of Harry. It had only been two days since he called but he was already consuming her thoughts; the way he laughed when Grayson attempted to make a joke, the way his dimples showed whenever he smiled, the way he snored ever so lightly when he slept, the way he hummed absentmindedly while he did anything, but mostly how he had looked at her the last time they had spoken. The utter shock, and sadness that she saw in his eyes was too much to handle. The blonde hoped that spending time with Amelia would actually do the trick, that she could forget him, even If it was only for a little while.

“So which one do you like more?” Amelia was holding up a designer dress in red and blue. Grayson had good enough fashion sense but never had the money to shop at half of the stores that Amelia had dragged her into.

“I think red’s more your color.” She smiled at her friend who hurried into the dressing room to try on her selections. Instead of pining over clothes she knew she could never afford, Grayson sat down in the luxurious waiting area and watched the TV that was set to E! News.

“How do I look?” Amelia popped her head out of the dressing room and Grayson smiled at her beautiful friend.

“Wow, if you don’t buy that dress I’m going to be so mad at you!” she laughed lightly. “I cannot believe how incredible that looks on you. If a guy won’t date you then I will.”

“Okay, okay you convinced me!” the brunette girl laughed and did a twirl, admiring her reflection in the massive mirrors plastered on the walls. “Did you see anything you liked?” Amelia had always been generous with her money, especially with Grayson. Apparently her dad was some super successful business man and her family was very well off, so every opportunity she got Amelia was out and about shopping, if not for herself then for Grayson or her few other close friends. Amelia had come to school in London all the way from her hometown of New York City, and because she didn’t have family close by she relied heavily on her friends. The two girls had met freshman year of school, they lived in the same dormitory and had been best friends ever since.

“Oh, Amelia, no. Its okay. But thank you.” She gave her friend a smile. “I really appreciate it. Now go change so we can head home I’m starving.” Amelia gave herself one last glance in the mirror, a huge smile on her face, before she headed back into the changing room again putting on her normal clothes.

ONE DIRECTION HEADING HOME!

Grayson’s head shot up and looked at the TV once again, she saw a video of the One Direction boys playing on the E! News and she frowned.

The four singers of the worlds biggest boy band were spotted in JFK Airport in New York City yesterday and they were London bound. Congratulations on the number one album boys! We’re all hoping we get a tour soon!

With that the show cut off and Grayson was left breathless, and staring at a toothpaste commercial that began to play immediately after.

“Uh, I know. Aren’t they just the cutest?” Amelia giggled, snapping the blonde back to reality. She hadn’t realized how spaced out she had become while Amelia gathered her things. “Yeah. Adorable.” She muttered.

“I had the biggest crush on them when I was younger. Aren’t you from the same part of England as Harry? And we’re the same age too. Did you guys ever know each other?”

“No. Never had the pleasure.”

“Shame.” Was all the brunette said before heading to the cashier, leaving Grayson to trail behind her, chest tight with emotions for the boy who left her heartbroken.

The two girls approached the door to their apartment and they were greeted by a delivery man who was tying to buzz into their building.

“Can I help you?” Grayson asked, her head tilting to the side. The man turned and was carrying a massive box and he nodded. “You’re buzzing our apartment.”

“Grayson Weller?” he asked the blonde and she nodded, her brow furrowed.

“Damn, what did you order?” Amelia laughed as her friend signed for the package.

“I didn’t. Maybe Reece did?” she shrugged taking the large box from the man and thanking him before he moved back down to his car. The brunette opened the door for the girls who hurried upstairs and looked at the box.

“Why would Reece have it addressed to you though? Maybe your mom sent you a finals care package?”

“That’s true, she has every semester so it must be that time again.” She smiled thinking of the treats her mom had scrapped together and sent with wonderful words of encouragement for finals. The blonde moved into the kitchen and placed the box down on their granite countertops as she opened a few junk drawers looking for the box cutter. “Come on the anticipation is killing me! I love your moms care packages, she always sends us cookies and the best candy.” Amelia was tapping her foot on the tile floors and Grayson just rolled her eyes, slicing the tape and opening the box. Inside was a smaller black box, it was matte with LUXURY embossed in large glossy black letters.

“What the hell?” she carefully opened the smaller black box and inside was a massive pile of gorgeous long stem red roses.

“Oh my god are those from Reece?” Amelia squealed and clapped her hands together. Deep down in the pit of her stomach Grayson knew who they were from, but what was she supposed to say? No, my ex best friend is trying to get me to meet with them and this is his way. Oh by the way, he’s Harry Styles.

“Who else would they be from?” Grayson’s voice was shaky as she picked up the small envelope that was sitting on top of the roses. There was nothing printed on the front, and slowly the blonde slipped the card out and took a deep breath. Hand written letter said nothing but three words.

See you soon.

[aion-rsa]

10 Best Movies of 2021 (So Far)

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Can you ever really go home? Millions of cinephiles are likely asking themselves this as summer 2021 winds down with doubt again lingering over their favorite movie houses. For a time, theaters were once again open for big business in the U.S. and UK, and remain so in at least one of those venues. But box office reports paint an ambiguous future, and many casual moviegoers clearly remain reluctant about returning to the cinema.

Nonetheless, it’s still good to be back in those old familiar places, as well as to have an ever expanding list of options to discover on streaming. Compared to last year, 2021 feels like a sunny balm, particularly now that the heaviest hitters and biggest surprises of July and the dog days of summer have landed.

It’s why we typically save our “mid-year” ranking for that deep breath between the end of summer escapism and the awards season push that begins in September. There have been some real treats on the 2021 calendar, so whether you’ve seen the entire list below or are looking for something you missed, sit back and enjoy a collection of the best movies of 2021. So far.

10. Barb and Star Go to Vista Del Mar

Kristen Wiig and Annie Mumolo wrote and star in this bizarre, brightly colored, and utterly joyful comedy that defies expectations throughout. The two are middle-aged best friends who take their very first vacation to Florida together to visit the idyllic Vista del Mar.

But it’s not all cocktails and banana boats. Behind the scenes, super villain Sharon Fisherman (also played by Wiig) has an evil plan for the resort. With shades of the best of Austin Powers (though far more sincere) Barb and Star is a good natured friendship comedy through a surrealist lens, which could scratch an itch for anyone missing a bit of beach time this year.

9. Psycho Goreman

Unexpected gem of the year surely goes to this utterly bonkers grue-filled cosmic horror B-movie which is also really funny and kind of sweet at the same time. It follows annoying little shit Mimi (Nita-Josee Hanna) who bullies her brother Luke (Owen Myre) mercilessly. After defeating him in a game of “crazy ball,” Luke’s punishment is to dig his own grave (!) but instead the pair discover an artifact which turns out to be the key to controlling a universal evil imprisoned on earth for trying to destroy the galaxy.

So of course Mimi names him Psycho Goreman and forces him to hang out with her family and friends despite his insistence that he will bathe in their blood the moment he is freed. From Steven Kostanski, the director of 2016’s The Void, Psycho Goreman is a spot-on blend of brutal slaying and hardcore gore, a cosmic plotline involving an alien council and a wholesome family comedy. An unexpected delight.

8. Cruella

Emma Stone is a punk rock designer in the mold of Vivienne Westwood in this vibrant London-set comedy, which is on paper a prequel to 101 Dalmatians. But in reality, take it as a standalone and you’ll have way more fun.

Up and coming fashionista Estella manages to impress one of the leading designers The Baroness (Emma Thompson) and secures a coveted job at her world famous fashion house. But when Estella discovers a dark secret relating to her own past, she takes on the outrageous alter-ego Cruella to destroy The Baroness by out-fashioning her at every opportunity.

Packed with banging tunes and great dresses, Cruella is a high energy spectacle but it’s the sparring of the two Emmas that brings the real electricity. Forget any future she might have as a puppy killer, in her own film, Cruella is a legend. 

7. In the Heights

The sunniest film to hit theaters this season, Jon M. Chu’s In the Heights was as sugary sweet as the frozen Piragua Lin-Manuel Miranda hocks around this movie’s block. Based on the Hamilton composer’s earlier Tony winning musical, the picture was the rare thing: a Broadway adaptation that actually soars as high as its stage production and (rarer still) the first Hollywood blockbuster with an all-Latinx cast.

Read more

Movies

How Cruella Got That Crazy Expensive Soundtrack

By Don Kaye

Movies

In the Heights: You Need to Stay for Post-Credits Scene

By David Crow

The film came under fair criticism on social media for not being as inclusive as it could be, but that shouldn’t be the last word on such a big-hearted achievement. From the buoyant performances which have already opened doors for Anthony Ramos and Leslie Grace’s immense charisma, to the Latin, salsa, and hip-hop infused melodies which celebrate a culture long left out of the Hollywood image of American life, In the Heights is a jubilant celebration. There really hasn’t been a giddier time at the multiplex this year. Plus, those “96,000” and “Carnaval del Barrio” sequences really are fire.

6. Zola

Based on a “true” story which was told via a series of tweets posted back in 2015 (and the subsequent Rolling Stone article that brought the tale to prominence), Zola is a stranger-than-fiction saga seen through the lens of social media. An ultra contemporary, experimental, low budget comedy-thriller with a backdrop of abuse and sex trafficking, the film is as willfully uncomfortable to watch as it is massively entertaining.

From the jump, Zola (Taylour Paige) is a Detroit waitress and part time exotic dancer who meets a customer named Stefani (Riley Keough) and agrees to take a trip with her to Florida to hit up strip clubs where Stefani promises they’ll make a lot of money. With them are Stefani’s feckless boyfriend (Succession’s Nicholas Braun) and her obviously dodgy roommate. Sometimes told through spoken tweets with switches in perspective, this marks director Janicza Bravo as a compelling new voice, and her cast of leads as nothing short of captivating.

How much of what you’re watching actually happened? Well, that’s the elusive quality of social media…

5. Judas and the Black Messiah

Fred Hampton was murdered with the consent and planning of law enforcement at both federal and local jurisdiction levels. That Judas and the Black Messiah made this common knowledge would be reason enough for consideration. Yet that director Shaka King tells Hampton’s story so thrillingly here elevates his film into one of the most compelling crime dramas in years—only with the FBI’s illegal COINTELPRO program being the primary criminal element.

Told from the perspective of the man who spied on the Black Panthers and eventually facilitated the raid that took Hampton’s life, Judas radiates a despairing quality which somehow can still feel electrifying whenever Daniel Kaluuya’s powerhouse performance takes center stage. Which is pretty much any time the Black Panther chairman takes the microphone. Kaluuya deserved his Oscar, but LaKeith Stanfield’s paranoid turn as Bill O’Neal, the poor bastard coerced into being a snitch while still a kid, is what gets under your skin and walks beside you after the credits roll.

4. Pig

Are there really folks out there who wandered into a screening of Pig and assumed they’d get the Nicolas Cage knockoff of John Wick? I like to think so, just as I love to imagine what they said to each other afterward. To be sure, Michael Sarnoski’s Pig sounds on paper like something in that ballpark: Cage plays a hermit living in self-exile from his past life when ruffians steal his beloved… truffle pig. In response, he comes down from the mountain, ready to reengage with the old ways.

Read more

Movies

Judas and the Black Messiah Remembers Fred Hampton Was a Man of His Words

By Tony Sokol

Movies

The Suicide Squad Character Guide, Easter Eggs, and DCEU References

By Mike Cecchini

Yet when you realize those old ways involve being the greatest chef in his state—and reengagement means partaking in a fight club that’s far more pitiful than it sounds and simply cooking gourmet meals—the more apparent it is that this is a sophisticated, nuanced allegory about grief and self-identity. Anchored by Cage’s best performance in a long, long time, Pig is a gentle and revelatory experience that slowly unpacks its brilliance piece by piece, vignette by vignette. For those coming in wanting fast food, this probably will be a disappointment. For all others, it’s a resplendent five course meal.

3. The Suicide Squad

For once the marketing wasn’t kidding. Writer-director James Gunn does have a horribly beautiful mind, and we at last get to see it fully unleashed on a superhero property. Yes, the filmmaker made many cry over a CGI tree and talking raccoon in the Guardians of the Galaxy films, but perhaps not since Logan has a storyteller seen such free rein over valuable studio IP. Gunn didn’t waste it.

The Suicide Squad plays very much like the men and women on a mission ‘60s capers its director grew up on, but that structure is channelled here through a filthy and deranged sensibility. How else can you describe a picture that makes you want to cuddle a land shark who just swallowed a bystander whole? The Suicide Squad does that and more while providing a showcase for sure things like Margot Robbie’s irresistible Harley Quinn, as well as the dregs and rejects of DC Comics who ultimately steal the movie: David Dastmalchian’s Polka-Dot Man and Daniela Melchior’s Ratcatcher 2, namely. Box office be damned, this is one of the best superhero films ever made and will be a classic in the years to come.

2. The Green Knight

When you hear the name “King Arthur,” certain elements spring to mind. It’s one of those classic properties which have been adapted, exploited, and parodied with killer rabbits ad nauseam. Even so, it’s safe to say you’ve never seen the lore become as foreboding and startling as this. Reimagined through the gaze of writer-director David Lowery, the 14th century poem Sir Gawain and the Green Knight at last takes on a trippy and witchy connotation. An interpretation that pulls as much from medieval paganism as it does obsessions with chivalry and Christian virtue, The Green Knight successfully reinvents its Arthurian quest into a journey toward certain doom.

Read more

Movies

The Green Knight: Why David Lowery and Dev Patel Reimagined Arthurian Legend

By David Crow

Movies

The Green Knight Ending Explained

By David Crow

As the central figure on that mission, Dev Patel reveals superstar charisma and the ability to completely command the screen. His version of Gawain, the wayward nephew of King Arthur (Sean Harris), is vain, cowardly, selfish, and somehow wholly sympathetic as he searches for Ralph Ineson’s Green Knight: a godlike creature who has promised to behead Gawain when they meet again. Through it all, Lowery and company craft a sumptuous world that in every shot looks like the most transportive Dungeons and Dragons cover you’ve ever seen. The atmosphere is oppressively brooding, and it will not appeal to everyone. Yet like the very best films released by indie distributor A24, there is a touch of mad genius at work here that demands to be seen and then seen again.

1. Inside

As arguably the best piece of art to come out of 2020’s torments, Bo Burnham’s Inside was not marketed or even conceived of as a film. Nevertheless, it slowly transformed into one throughout its months-long production process, which forewent mere sketch humor to reveal an undeniably cinematic, experimental, and ultimately bleak heart. In other words, it’s a perfect distillation of how all mediums are blurring into that loathsome word: content.

Through heavily edited, conceived, and revised set-pieces, the film’s director, star, writer, and composer lays his insecurities and vanities bare. Filmed inside Burnham’s home studio space, Inside is the result of the young filmmaker behind Eighth Grade becoming acutely aware he’s regressed to his early resources as a teenage YouTube star: a camera, a music keyboard, some synth programs, and hours of idle boredom.

Within those numbing hours, Burnham built something both reflective and suspicious about technology, the internet culture which gave him his career, and even his own self-image. With a catchy songbook of synthesized bangers, many of which echo ’80s pop ballads, Burnham crystallizes better than any typical three-act film the anxieties and delirium of a year spent mostly at home. He also provides a scathing critique of how our concepts of communication and identity have been co-opted and undermined by tech companies whose products incite division for profit—all while still releasing his film on the biggest streaming platform in the world. It’s a challenging, self-loathing, and haunted piece of work that will invariably become a time capsule for its moment in history.

Runner ups that almost made the cut: Annette, Black Widow, Coda, Mr. Soul, No Sudden Move, Raya and the Last Dragon, Rita Moreno: Just a Girl Who Decided to Go For It, The Sparks Brothers, Val.

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When a Girl Walks Down The Street

Back in June I posted this and @notsomolly said I should write a story about it. Four months later I decided to actually do it and now, a month after that, it’s done!

It combines two things I’m passionate about: street harassment and the Harry Potter universe. That being said, please be warned that there’s a lot of discussion about street and sexual harassment in this story. Also I’m not trying to step on your toes, JKR, so please don’t sue me. And FYI it’s like 4500 words.

She’s walking down the street, late for class as usual. Headphones in, sunglasses on, as usual. Her music is loud enough to make the sounds of cars and people blend into the background (but not too loud that she couldn’t hear someone approaching!). The day appears to be off to a good start. It’s sunny and warm enough that she could leave her jacket in her bag but not so hot that she’s sweaty by the time she arrives to her lecture. There’s an essay tucked into her bag that she knows is worth an A, and she’s wearing her favorite jumpsuit.

An old man tells her good morning and she replies in kind.

Then there’s a slightly younger man who drags his eyes up and down her figure and just as she’s passing, just loud enough to be heard over her music, he goes “Mmmmm,” as if perusing the selection at a bakery counter or considering the meal set before him at a five-star restaurant. The noise sticks to her body and slides down like slime, leaving a filmy residue behind. She wants to turn around and tell him off, that she’s not a piece of meat, or maybe at least give him a mean look, or something…but who knows what he’ll do and she’s already late and at least he didn’t touch her. She chokes down the words she hasn’t said- fuck you and fuck off and leave me alone! - and continues on.

She gets to her lecture and takes her seat and rubs her hands up and down her arms, like maybe that lingering slime can be washed off.

 There’s another day. She’s running late as usual but this time it’s hotter than Satan’s asshole and the humidity is making the air thick and she’s hauling the jugs of orange juice she agreed to bring for the literary magazine’s start of year brunch. There’s sweat already pooling under her boobs and she’s wondering why she bothered to put on makeup as most of her foundation has coalesced in the area where her chin turns into her neck.

Thankfully she’s turned onto a road surrounded by tall buildings, so she has a moment of shady respite. She’s moved past the store fronts so the only people around are also hustling to get somewhere and don’t have time for niceties or catcalls. She’s fine with that. All she wants is to get to the English department building so she can set down these heavy ass jugs. It’s quiet for a few moments—not as many cars or people—so it’s just her and her music until

HONK HOOOOOONK! She braces, expecting the next sound to be a loud crash of metal on metal or screeching brakes or screams, but it doesn’t come. Her heart is hammering in her chest and it feels like she’s just run a marathon. She looks behind her to inspect the damage and sees nothing but a truck driver peering out his passenger side window, waving with a grin. He turns to keep driving but she hopes he caught her scowl first. She tightens her grip around one jug and wonders if she’s strong enough to hurl it at the truck’s window. Probably not. She briefly hopes he gets into a fender bender or has a flat tire or something. She takes a few slow, shaky breaths in through the nose and out through her mouth to try to slow her heart rate, then hauls up the bottles of juice for a better grip and heads on.

She gets to the brunch and dumps the jugs on the table. As she deposits her personal effects in the designated corner she can’t help but clench her fists and flare her nostrils. In her peripheral vision she thinks she sees the old, leather-bound books quiver on the floor to ceiling shelves, but when she looks up, nothing has changed. She stares, squinting for a moment, until her friend Ashley asks, “You good?”, and she tells her all about the asshole trucker who scared the shit out of her.

“What the fuck?!” is the reply.

“I know, right?!” she says. And they grab plates and start filling them with food and move along down the line but her heart hasn’t fully slowed and that honk is still ringing in her ears. She’s deflated and exhausted, as if the truck had run her over.

 Her cell phone screen has shattered, and she wonders why she spent money on this screen protector if it can’t do its one job. She can make out the time- 11:15- through the cracks spreading across the screen like a spider web. The repair shop is dark inside and when she pulls at the doors they don’t budge. “Of course,” she thinks. She needs her phone fixed and the shop that apparently opens at 10 is closed. She decides to walk into the mall across the road to pass the time. There’s a car pulled over in a loading zone and there’s a man in it yelling something at a young woman up ahead. She feels her lip curl and speeds past the area.

This cell phone repair is going to take up all of her spending money until she’s paid again, and soon she tires of looking at clothes she can’t buy. She strolls back around the block to see if the store is open and expels a frustrated sigh when she sees that the shop lights are still off. She tries the door just to check and finds it is still locked, as she expected. She tries to call the number on the door and reaches a voicemail. She doesn’t bother to leave a message- if the store can’t be bothered to open during business hours, it would be silly to expect them to check their voicemail. She turns to go home, and her path leads her by the loading zone again, where the old man is still sitting in his car, though it’s been much more than the 10 minutes one is allowed to stay. As she passes by he begins his chorus, entreating her to come closer with all manner of endearments—baby and honey and sweetie. She scoffs and waves her hand in a dismissive gesture, as if he were a fly buzzing in her face. He doesn’t appreciate it—he’s shouting, “Aw come on! Get out of here with that.” And perhaps some other things but she’s turned up her music. She feels brief twinge of satisfaction but he’s still there shouting whatever. There aren’t any traffic cops around (how is it that they were always right next to her car when she’s overstayed a meter by a minute but not when they were actually needed?). “Ugh.” She rolls her eyes and continues on.

She doesn’t know it, but as she walks off the man’s radio, which was playing smooth jazz, scrolled rapidly through stations. His lights flashed and wipers sprung to life and as quickly as it all started, it stopped.

She walks the rest of the way home and finds her steps getting slower and slower. She had plans and a to-do list but instead she collapses on her fluffiest chair for a snooze.

 She’s at home, reveling in a day with no responsibilities. She’s in her unicorn onesie wrapped in her favorite blanket surrounded by snacks, enjoying a Netflix binge. She’s watching The Office for the 10th time because she doesn’t have the energy to take in something new. She’s been so tired lately, the sort of tired that doesn’t go away no matter how much sleep she gets. She usually doesn’t get sick so she just attributes it to stress.

As the employees of Dunder Mifflin scramble during Dwight’s impromptu fire drill, her roommate Kaitlyn comes in with her boyfriend Kyle. She greets them briefly before returning her attention to the show. Kaitlyn drops her things and moves quickly through the common area to her room, while Kyle sits at the kitchen table, loudly dropping his things and making himself at home. She rolls her eyes.

Kaitlyn returns from her bedroom and sets about making food before asking, “Do you want to eat with us? I’m making tacos.”

“You know I never turn down tacos,” she answers.

Soon after the food is done so she turns off the tv and extracts herself from the couch, shuffling to take a seat at the table. “Muchas gracias,” she states as she begins to assemble her meal.

They fall into easy, casual conversation between mouthfuls.

“Ugh, the rest of the TAs in my cohort for this year are such heinous dicks. They think they have to explain every concept to me because I’m the only girl in the group,” Kaitlyn says, disgusted. She’s starting her doctorate in philosophy, with a concentration on morality. A minute or two of her talking about a topic can have you questioning everything, she’s so obnoxiously brilliant.

She groans sympathetically but before she can speak Kyle chimes in, “Aw babe, come on, you can’t let them get to you so much.”

She side-eyes him before dragging her gaze back to Kaitlyn and responding as if Kyle hadn’t spoken. “Ugh. That is the worst. I can’t imagine being the only girl. The guys in my group drive me nuts and there are only a few of them. If I get told to smile one more time I’m going to punch someone, seriously.”

Kaitlyn rolls her eyes. “They’d deserve it.”

“Oh come on, for telling you to smile? It’s a compliment!” Kyle argues.

She slides her unimpressed gaze to him once more and through a mouthful of taco says, “No it’s telling me what to do with my face.”

“They think you’re pretty and want to see you smile,” Kyle contends, bearing a grin himself.

Her face remains blank, the only movement from her chewing. “Then they should tell a joke. And anyways, I don’t think it’s true that they actually want to see me smile. Because they say it when I’m in the middle of reading through a paper or lugging a stack of books or walking down a hallway. Like do you just walk around doing things with a huge smile on your face? I’m not a fucking Disney princess.”

Kyle’s not satisfied. “Now you know you wouldn’t be so pissy about it if it was coming from someone you thought was hot. It’s just because those English TAs are all pale and nerdy and weird.”

She expels a heavy sigh and closes her eyes for a moment before responding. “I generally don’t find it attractive when people tell me what to do with my face. So I think I’d be pissy either way.” She slides her chair back from the table. “I’m gonna take a nap. Thanks for the tacos, Kait. I’ll clean the dishes later if you want to leave them.”

“Oh no, don’t worry about it, I know you’re not feeling well,” Kaitlyn replies.

“Ok. Well I’ll see you later then.” She pauses. “Kyle.”

He opens his mouth to reply, but closes it again when she fixes him with a tired glare. He thinks he sees a black shadow, like a puff of smoke, trailing behind her, but when he blinks it’s gone. He shakes his head. No more all-nighters.

She collapses on her bed and dreams about Jim Halpert telling her to smile.

 She wakes up the next morning, feeling as though she hasn’t slept at all. She extracts herself from bed and manages to trudge to the shower before putting on the first clean garments she found on the floor. She probably should just keep resting but has a really important seminar to attend in preparation for her thesis so she’s going to make her way to school.

On days like this she wishes she had a car, but alas, she has to make her usual trek through the city. She’s dragging her feet in a zombie-like shuffle. Her face bears a scowl and dark circles. Normally she does everything she can to be inconspicuous in hopes of being left alone—sunglasses and headphones and looking down—but today she’s left her headphones at home and squints in the glare of the midmorning sun. She looks at each person she passes as if daring them to say something. Her internal monologue is a chorus of “I wish a motherfucker would.” She is poised for action, a bullet in the barrel of a cocked gun.

No one talks to her on her way to school. She hopes they were scared off by the force of her glare, but really it was the air around her—charged and crackling, humming like a bug zapper, ready to shock anyone who comes too close.

 After the seminar, she heads to the library to pick up some additional reference materials. She’s way behind compared to her classmates—these past few days of feeling run down led to a halt in productivity. She’s grabbed a few books from which to make notes and is making her way to a table in the study area when she spots Ashley. She makes a beeline to her corner and drops her books on the table with a quiet, “Hey.”

“Hey,” Ashley replies, looking up from her book briefly. She turns back to her reading and the two women sit together in silence until the repetitive jiggling of Ashley’s leg becomes too much to ignore.

“Are you alright?” she blurts.

“What? Why?” Ashley replies, brows furrowed.

“Your leg is going crazy.”

“Oh, you know, thesis stuff.”

She tilts her head slightly, her gaze not wavering from Ashley, whose eyes are downcast. “Uh huh.”

“Ok so…you know Dr. Hall?” Ashley whispers.

“Yeah,” she replies, looking around, as if the man himself might wander into their corner.

“I’m just—I’m having some trouble with him.”

“Like in class? I’ve heard he’s a hardass but—”

“No, like…personally?”

Her brow furrows and her nostrils flare. “What happened?”

Ashley takes a deep breath and looks around as if the words she’s looking for may be hanging in the air before her. “Well you know I’ve been TA-ing for one of his classes…and he’s just…weird.”

She leans forward to encourage Ashley to continue.

“Like he’s always talking about how I look and giving me those looks—you know, like the up and down ones—and talking about how we should have lunch. At first I said yes because people go to lunch with professors sometimes, and I thought maybe he did it for all his TAs but Patrick said he didn’t ask him to lunch, and the way he keeps talking about it is so strange. I keep putting it off but he’s been so persistent and now he’s saying things like ‘Oh I hope your boyfriend won’t be mad when we go to lunch’ which like, why would he be mad if it’s just a professional lunch, right? Unless it isn’t…”

“Ugh, Ashley I’m sorry that’s so inappropriate.”

“I know and he keeps sending me emails that seem to have less and less to do with work and more just trying to have conversations with me…I stopped responding so hopefully he’ll stop.”

“God, Ash. Man that is the worst. Have you told anyone?”

“No, I mean, I did talk to Nick about it but he said Hall wasn’t doing anything illegal so there isn’t anything I could do. I thought about telling Keller since he’s the department head but he’s a guy so he probably won’t get it either…and I mean, a TA versus a tenured professor? Come on.” Ashley throws her hands up, defeated.

“Right…that’s a tough spot. I mean obviously what he’s doing is wrong and Nick is an idiot—no offense. Maybe you could—I don’t know…talk to Maxwell? She’s a woman, she’s pretty young, so she probably would know what to do. You don’t have to report it, maybe just get advice?”

“Yeah, I guess. All the other professors seem to like him so much that it seems pointless. If it’s him against me he’ll always win.” Ashley places her elbows on the table and her head in her hands.

She reaches across the table and places her hand on Ashley’s arm. “I’m so sorry. Hopefully the semester will go by fast and then you can get assigned to somebody else’s classes.”

Ashley nods without lifting her head. After a moment she picks up her book and resumes reading, signaling the end to the conversation.

She picks up her book, too, but glances up at Ashley every couple of minutes. She hopes she’s okay but knows that uneasiness she’s feeling hasn’t gone away, even if her leg is still.

 She stayed at the library later than she anticipated, but she’d hit her stride and didn’t want to stop working. It’s dark now and she doesn’t have cash for the bus or enough in her account for an Uber so she’s walking.  It’s not a long walk so she’s just trying to move quickly and get home as soon as possible. She’s nervous and scared, like girls are supposed to be. She’s looking down, mostly, but every few seconds her eyes shift upward or to the side. Only one earbud is in and at the slightest noise she turns to look behind her. Her hands are in her pockets, her right hand with a firm grip on her keys—she wants to be able to get into her building quickly, and also be ready to stab somebody if she has to.

Getting home is at the forefront of her mind as she hustles down the dark streets, but she can’t help but think about Ashley and Hall. She’s angry for her friend and wishes she could so something to protect her, but she can’t. That feeling of powerlessness—that’s what gets at her the most.

She’s moving down the main street, full of stores and restaurants, when she sees a group of guys ahead. There are several of them—maybe 7—a bit older, perhaps, and definitely bigger than her. She averts her eyes, lest a bit of accidental eye contact make one of them think she’s interested. She lengthens her strides, hoping to propel herself forward even more quickly.  Her brain is simultaneously a chorus of “Please leave me alone please leave me alone please leave me alone,” and a scrolling list of contingency plans (“If he grabs my bag I’ll just drop it and run and if he grabs my wrist roll out toward the thumb and…”).

She’s upon them now and mumbles, “Excuse me,” hoping they’ll just part and let her through.

They start to move and one says, “Hey,” drawing out the vowel as he runs his eyes up and down her body and licks his lips. “How you doin’?” Like he’s fucking Joey Tribbiani.

She holds back the scowl that threatens to form on her face and responds with a terse nod. She tries to keep going but another of the group speaks out. “Hey! My friend was talking to you.” Like her silence is offensive.

“Hi,” she responds timidly, still trying to move forward. Has she not moved, or are they following her? She’s not sure. An alarm is going off in her brain, and she wonders if she can outrun any of these guys.

She suddenly feels a twinge of pain in her left ear as the ear bud is yanked out. The same guy who was offended by her is closer now. “He asked you a question.”

Now the scowl appears in full force. She just wants to get home, to heat up her leftovers and relax after hours of research. But no. This fucking guy needs her to respond to his friend. Once she’s sure her meanest look is burned into this asshole’s retinas, she turns to go.

The asshole wraps his hand around her wrist and pulls her back toward him. She whips around, her hair flying up into a halo around her head. Her eyes are wide, brows pulled together, and nostrils flared, like a bull about to charge. She feels the slime sliding down her skin and hears the honking of the semi-truck and “Smile” and Ashley’s bouncing leg. And then nothing.

 She’s laying down, and suddenly being jostled. She hopes that was all a bad dream and Kait is waking her because she’s late for class but it’s more likely that the pack of guys have drugged her or knocked her out and now she’s on the floor in some empty warehouse and they’re going to have their way with her. There’s a high-pitched ringing in her ears and it’s so loud. She squeezes her eyes shut tighter, not ready to face her current circumstances.

She’s jostled again. “Ma’am, can you hear me?!”

She opens her eyes abruptly and is greeted by an array of flashing lights. She has to blink a few more times to adjust. She manages to croak out a quiet “Yes.”

As her eyes adjust further, she can see that the man before her is an EMT. She’s lying on the street, but she’s not sure where. Based on the amount of lights, she estimates there are several police cars and ambulances around. She tries to sit up to take in more, but is stopped by a hand on her shoulder.

“I need to stabilize your neck, ma’am.” He produces a cervical collar which he places carefully around her neck.

“Where am I?” she asks quietly.

“Athens Boulevard, ma’am.”

So she hadn’t gone far. That’s the street she was walking down when she ran into the guys, and then—“Wait, what happened?”

“There was an explosion. Please look at me so I can check your pupils.”

Once he’s satisfied that she’s fully conscious and her pupils are equal and reactive, he and his colleague helped her onto a stretcher. From her higher vantage point, she can see much more of the scene. She was thrown into the middle of the street, right on the yellow line. The sidewalks are covered in shattered glass from the storefront windows, reflecting the lights from the emergency vehicles. She sees some other people strewn about being attended to by paramedics. She can’t make out who they are and wonders if any of the guys that were bothering her were hurt. She glances over the spot on the sidewalk where she last remembers standing and sees a group of police and guys in suits talking and taking pictures. She figures it was some sort of terrorist attack.

As she’s loaded into the ambulance, she feels exhaustion wash over her like a wave and allows herself to drift off to sleep again.

 She wakes up in the hospital. She’s been changed into a gown and is attached to an IV and all sorts of monitoring equipment. She sits up slightly, the miniscule movement causing her to wince in pain. She takes in her surroundings, trying to see if any of her belongings made it to the hospital with her intact. She doesn’t see any of her things, but her eyes land on the remote sitting on the bedside table. She grabs it and turns on the tv, hoping to find a news channel with information on the attack.

After a flipping through a couple of channels, she finds the local news. The blonde anchor has on her best serious face as she warns, “Please note that the following video is graphic and could be upsetting to some viewers.”

The screen cuts to black and white footage of the Athens Boulevard, shot from a high angle, presumably from a surveillance camera. She sees some random people passing by, and then there it is—her and the men. The fear and fury come rushing back to her as she watches herself be harassed. She sees the last thing she remembers—when the asshole put his hands on her—and then something happens. There’s a huge puff of thick black smoke that looks like nothing she’s ever seen from a fire. She hasn’t seen a bomb in real life but none of the action movies she’s seen have looked like this. The smoke spins like a miniature tornado, throwing the group of men off their feet. It then takes off, moving like an erratic serpent as it destroys the windows of the stores, before changing direction. It’s flying about, going every which way, almost like a deflating balloon that’s been let go. The smoke moves toward the camera and the video cuts off.

She’s not sure what she just watched. She flips through channels, hoping to find the video again, before settling on national channel that is playing to video on loop as various experts espouse their early theories.

She watches it four, maybe five more times. She finds herself leaning closer each time, watching the spot where she stood. Each time she watches it becomes clearer—the black smoke starts with her.  

She falls back into the pillows, her mind a mess of questions. Did it throw her immediately? Did it come out of her? Did she turn into the big black smoke monster from Lost? She looks around the room, as if the answer may be apparent in the signs on the walls or her vital signs displayed on the screen beside her. She looks down at her hands, clenching and unclenching her fists. What the fuck?

She wonders what is wrong with her, and what happened to the group of men. She assumes they’re hurt but she refuses to consider the possibility of something worse. She’s ashamed of it, but part of her—a very small part—is happy they were hurt. The thought of what could have happened had she not gone all smoke snake on them makes her stomach turn. Her face contorts into a snarl as she clenches her jaw and wrinkles her nose. The number on the monitor that represents her heart rate begins to climb. She feels heat growing from her chest and spreading outward as she thinks, “They should have just left me alone.”

The heat reaches her extremities and her body feels charged, like the AED paddles sitting across the room, when suddenly the door swings open.

“You’re awake!” the nurse greets. She’s wearing bright pink scrubs and a warm smile. “I’m Wendy, and I’m your nurse for the next 6 hours or so. How are you feeling?”

The heat within her has dissipated and suddenly she’s overcome with exhaustion. She’s like one of those inflatable lawn decorations when the plug has been pulled. “Just tired, mostly. A little sore, I guess.”

“Okay. Dinner will be here in a little while, but in the mean time I want you to get some rest. The doctors want to keep you here overnight to monitor you, but you should be able to go home tomorrow. So far things are looking good. Nothing’s broken, and your head CT was clear. You made out pretty well, lady. You’re lucky.”

She quirks the corners of her mouth in a hollow approximation of a smile. “Oh, I know, Wendy.”

  (And that’s it! I’d planned on ending it there but a friend said she’d be interested in more, so maybe to be continued...?)

[lucanogis]

fic: to have and to hold - pt. i

Title: to have and to hold  Fandom: Gakuen Alice Pairing: Hotaru Imai x Luca Nogi Length: 5k Summary: It is a truth universally acknowledged that a spy in need of money must be in want of a groom. Or: Hotaru wants to fund her inventions. A widow wants her husband's murderer. And Luca Nogi? Luca Nogi can't help but want the newest addition to his crew. // Part 2 in the GA-crew!verse, written for @ga-party‘s writing challenge: Wedding AU. 

{ao3} , {ffn}

Chapter 1: The Plan

Apartment 2B is wholly unsuitable to house a bunch of Japan’s most notorious criminals.

Not only does it come with ten discret neighbors, some of which not only share the building with them but actual room walls, it also lacks any of the equipment necessary for Hotaru Imai to create one of her masterpieces. Instead (and she has made it a point to take inventory of all the many useless additions to her new home) it has three separate gaming consoles, an added fridge for “cooking experiments” and a pet raven called ‘Mrs Rogers’. The roof, which is used for training or weapon storage, also features a fake palm tree and a hot tub the size of a small country. It is therefore completely unsurprising to Hotaru that Mikan decided to move in immediately after her first visit.

The far more complex question is why she has decided to move in as well.

It’s been roughly six months since Z, her former crew, chose to not only join The Academy, a merry band of ruthless murderers, but also unceremoniously oust her in the middle of a job. Luckily - or, if her best friend is to be believed, due to fate - she managed to team up with Mikan’s new crew to escape her own death. Said crew, named Nova by its founder and apparent leader (and Mikan’s idiot of a boyfriend) Natsume, has since welcomed her with open arms. It’s not too difficult for Hotaru to see why, given their apparent inability to budget.

But no member of Nova ever demanded that she join them in their apartment. Hiding made sense the first few weeks after her near death experience, sure. But Hotaru had somehow managed to keep her cover during the ballroom altercation and thus whispers of her joining a new crew had been, if anything, little more than an unconfirmed rumor. At first she’d woken up at night in cold sweat, wondering whether Z had sold her identity, whether they would come after her or any civilians connected to her, like her brother. But research had revealed to her that those who knew her by name had been disposed of as well. As such, that particular worry of hers has slowly but certainly vanished, leaving her to focus on her job.

More often than not, Hotaru keeps her hands and her mind occupied with weapon designs. She trains on the roof, getting to know each member of Nova and their unique skills. She goes on missions with them, always conscious of the distrust some still feel towards her and conscious of the distrust she can’t help but feel towards them.

The moments where her thoughts at last quiet down bring her the answer to her own question: Why did she stay in Nova’s apartment? Because, as incongruent as it seems, it makes her happy.

Of the eight, now nine, crew members Nova has, only six regularly live in the main apartment. The remaining two are scattered throughout the city, either by choice or due to an assignment. Hotaru has to admit she doesn’t miss their presence - being roommates with people that aren’t just Mikan is difficult enough. She has to deal with Natsume burning every meal he tries to cook, Misaki and Tsubasa being disgustingly in love and Luca Nogi being, well. A distraction at best and a threat to her sanity at worst.

Hotaru doesn’t pretend that Luca isn’t attractive. She certainly won’t deny that they’ve had sex in the goddamn hot tub she hates so much. And she won’t even lie and say that he doesn’t have the uncanny ability to make her feel calm, regardless of their turbulent job. But unfortunately for him, Luca has one glaring flaw: He is a spy, much like her. As much as Hotaru likes to fuck spies, she doesn’t fuck with them. It conjures up feelings in her heart and feelings conjure up memories; of darkness and blood and screaming until her throat grows raw and - Suffice it to say, she has no interest in attachments. Mikan is fine because Mikan has always been there. Nogi, however, is not a risk she is willing to take.

Hence they’ve agreed on a particular kind of relationship: Professionals, working together, who sometimes have sexual encounters in expensive bathrooms but who do not, under any circumstances, have an interest in anything more. Hotaru is satisfied with that arrangement. Romance, or the illusion of it, will never weasel its way into her life.

Naturally that doesn’t change the fact that only a week later, Hotaru finds herself standing at the altar, with Luca Nogi sliding a ring onto her finger and white chiffon caressing her skin.

Apartment 2B, Tokyo / April 3rd, 2am

“You need to buy the apartment next door,” Hotaru Imai says. She’s seated on one of the living room armchairs, comfortably basking in the final rays of the setting sun. Her best friend is out on a minor reconnaissance mission and she’s lounging in the living room with Natsume and Luca, something she would normally avoid but which has become necessary due to the simple fact that there is something she wants. “Either you do it yourself or I do it using your funds when you and Mikan are busy having alone time.”

“You’d think I get a choice in this,” Natsume Hyuuga, the Black Cat, comments, “given that this is my crew we’re talking about. And my apartment. And my money.”

“Funny,” Hotaru replies, leaning back and taking a sip of her wine. “I think I vaguely remember most of our funds coming in due to inventions I sold on the blackmarket.”

“She has a point,” Luca Nogi says. He’s sitting cross-legged on the wooden apartment floor, his pet raven picking seeds out of his hand. Natsume narrows his eyes at his best friend.

“You’re only saying that because she’s the only person in this apartment willing to play poker with you,” he declares. “Also, where did your loyalty go?”

“I imagine it’s in the hot tub,” Hotaru says. “You know, with the rest of our crew money.”

Natsume rolls his eyes, though with a sense of triumph she notices him wince at her words.

“You see then why I don’t have the money to buy the flat next to ours,” he says.

“I’ll take a job. Something nice and flashy,” Hotaru offers. “Come on, there must be something you’ve decided against that you can dump onto me. This is a simple trade, Hyuuga: You get to send me on a garbage mission no one else is willing to do. I get to use the money we make to buy another apartment and use it as a work space. It’s a win-win scenario.”

Natsume blinks. “When did you get so desperate?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Hotaru says sarcastically. “Probably around the time someone decided to crap all over my laptop.”

They both turn to stare at Mrs. Rogers, who makes a caw sound before flying up to sit on Luca’s shoulder, half hidden behind his blond hair. Her owner grimaces.

“I did tell you to cover up your stuff if you’re not around,” Luca says. “And I also apologized. Like, fifteen times. Today.”

Hotaru rolls her eyes at him before turning back to the Black Cat. “Look, my reasons don’t matter,” she says. “You need an inventor and I can’t fulfill that role properly until you give me space I can actually work in.”

Natsume folds his arms. He looks less than happy about her demand. “Doing extra missions isn’t an option,” he says.

“Well, why not?,” Hotaru asks. “I’m offering to do them. I can handle danger and without proper equipment, that danger’s only going to get a lot worse for all of us anyway.”

“I get that,” Natsume says tightly. His demeanor changes as he squares his shoulders and narrows his red eyes ever so slightly. This is no longer a friendly discussion, she can tell. “But Imai, I don’t have the money to pay for that flat. And as for the missions you’re volunteering for, I decided against doing them for a reason. They’re not worth the risk. I won’t jeopardize this crew. Not for money and not for you.”

Not for her. Of course. With a sigh, Hotaru drowns the rest of her wine. Again and again, she finds that the Black Cat and her have similar end goals but very different opinions on how to reach them. Normally she would continue arguing but in this case she can tell that any further push on her part would only strengthen Natsume Hyuuga’s resolve. Promises of weapons and handy gadgets are apparently not attractive enough for him to take a risk on an operative, even if it’s just his newest one.

“Pity about that exploding pen I was going to build you,” she says casually. Years of spy training are the only reason she’s able to keep the frustration out of her voice. “See you tomorrow. I’m turning in for the night.”

Hotaru leaves her two companions behind, retreating to her room on the far side of the apartment. Once the door is shut behind her, she balls her hand into a fist and punches her pillow, once, twice, a third time. Only then does the anger licking at her throat subside a bit and give way to exhaustion. She drops down onto the bed, staring at the ceiling with a furrowed brow. Six months she’s worked with the Black Cat, but still he’s unwilling to trust her enough to take a few risks. If she wants to go on a more dangerous mission to earn a larger sum of money, who is he to try and stop her? And who is he to doubt her, to think that she hasn’t calculated the risks and rewards of her plan, hasn’t made sure that no harm will come to Nova?

It’s yet another reminder that Hotaru is still an outsider, much like she’s always been.

She blinks up at the ceiling, able to trace every inch of the plan she pinned onto the wall above the bed despite the room’s darkness. She’s working on an intricate fabric, more than five times as strong as the gear they’re using right now, and able to deflect most bullets. The delicate mesh is no weapon but a shield, one that will keep Nova’s agents out of harm’s way. If only she could convince Hyuuga of its merits, make him realize that the money he gives her is money well spent. Perhaps then the suit she’s working on would be finished and the dreams that plague her would disappear. Perhaps she’d no longer wake up wondering whether today is the day she dies, or even worse, whether today is the day Mikan dies.

But the fabric is impossible to make without a proper workbench and bigger tools and as such, it will have to wait.

Closing her eyes again, Hotaru turns to press her nose into her pillow. Yesterday she’d spent the night with Nogi, and the satin under her skin still smells softly of the cologne he was wearing. They’d come from a reconnaissance operation, his hair still tousled from running, and something inside her had quaked at the thought of doing anything other than kiss him.

So she had done just that.

Right here, in this room, in this bed in fact. She’d straddled his hips with her legs, feeling every inch of him beneath her as she pushed him deeper into the mattress, gazing down at his flushed face from above. He’s always blushing, Hotaru remembers thinking, strangely fascinated by the fact that everything he felt was immediately on display.

Sex is always fun for Hotaru. It’s a way to see anatomy in action, similar to watching her inventions do their job. The way muscle moves beneath skin, the way bodies fit together, the way nerves respond if she strokes them just right - The grip of his hands on her hips and the way she moved against him and he moved against her, their breathing labored as it had been when they ran from their pursuers but at the same time labored in a different way, another kind of fight, a primal kind of combat.

After, Luca had almost fallen asleep next to her, curled up on her covers, but Hotaru kicked him out as soon as she saw his eyes fall shut. He stole a kiss from her before leaving, a fast but heated one, something he always does when they sleep together. It’s almost too intimate every time, but she can never quite tell him to stop. In the end, it doesn’t matter. Even if he takes liberties now and then, she controls this little battle of theirs and they both know it.

Hotaru concentrates on relaxing her breathing, allowing the memories of their night together to once more fill her mind. Hopefully thoughts of more enjoyable times will chase away the fear that gnaws at her, the knowledge that one day their lack of money will result in one of them laying on her lap, gasping for breath as they slowly bleed out. Hopefully images of death won’t haunt her again.

Somehow, she doubts it.

Apartment 2B, Tokyo / April 4th, 8am

They’re sitting around the kitchen table the next morning when Natsume announces they’re going to have an impromptu meeting.

Hotaru is sipping her coffee, idly listening as Mikan recounts her mission from the previous night. Tsubasa is sitting on the couch, reading a newspaper with Misaki’s outstretched legs on his lap. Luca is in the process of making pancakes. He turns around at his best friend’s declaration, wearing a quiet smile on his lips.

“What are we discussing?,” Hotaru asks suspiciously. Is the Black Cat going to kick her out because she asked for more money?

Natsume grunts instead of answering. Luca turns to her.

“There’s a mission that we’re perfectly suited for, I think,” he says. “But we still have to vote on whether or not to take the job.”

This is another one of Nova’s oddities: Although Natsume choses which jobs might be suited for them, every member of the crew can veto an operation. It’s a democratic system, Mikan explained to her once. It’s also a hassle every time.

Luca dumps the finished pancake onto a plate and places them on the table. Tsubasa peeks over his newspaper.

“Breakfast done?,” he asks. Luca nods.

With a grin, the dark haired man gets up, unceremoniously dumping his girlfriend’s legs onto the floor. He sits down opposite Hotaru, Misaki following close behind. Once they’re all seated, Luca vanishes for a few moments before returning with a file. Generally, Hotaru would prefer technology over old school materials, but even she has to admit that hackable objects aren’t the best place for sensitive data. Natsume takes the folder from his friend and tosses it on the table.

“Client’s name is Yuki Arakawa, twenty-three years old, born in Nagoya. Met and fell in love with an investment banker by the name of Ichida Seiji when they were both twenty. Their relationship was reportedly great and so they decided to ruin it by getting married as soon as possible. They got themselves a team of event planners and ended up renting D-Lounge, over in Shibuya. Their grand day was looking to be perfect.”

Natsume pulls a picture out of the folder, showing it to the group. On it, a young woman grins widely into the camera, showing off an impressive diamond ring. A man is standing behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist.

“What happened?,” Mikan asks softly. Natsume sighs.

“On their wedding day, a year ago now, Ichida suffered what officials say was a heart-attack. He made it through the ceremony, exchanged vows with his new wife and then collapsed on the dance floor. Medical examiner says the excitement of the day was literally...heart-stopping.”

“It’s not an uncommon cause of death,” Luca notes. “But autopsy reports do show that there was a foreign substance in his blood. When Yuki Arakawa asked the police about that though, they told her that her husband probably just tried to dampen his own nervosity by indulging in some….ah….illegal substances, so to speak.”

“Did he?,” Hotaru asks. A young, overly excited man taking drugs doesn’t seem too strange a story. Luca shrugs.

“It’s hard to say from the medical report,” he says.

“What matters to us,” Natsume interjects. “Is that his widow doesn’t believe the police’s story. She hired a private investigator to dig into the whole thing. And lo and behold, they found something.”

Luca leans back in his chair. With a quick glance at the folder in front of them, he continues.

“Turns out that Himawari Events Management, the company they hired to plan their wedding, have had a number of dead clients in the past two years or so. There’s been a handful of freak accidents, grooms or brides crushed by falling chandeliers, and a couple of strokes and heart attacks. Suffice to say, the whole thing is more than fishy. But when Yuki told the police as much, they send her away. Next day, a couple of goons cornered her on her way back from the cemetery, roughed her up pretty bad. They told her to keep her nose out of her husband’s case.”

“I’m guessing she didn’t,” Tsubasa comments, taking a bite out of his pancake. He leans forward to pick up the picture of the couple, looking at it from up close. “So someone’s making a game out of killing people on their wedding day? Jesus.”

“Presumably,” Natsume confirms. “What Yuki Arakawa expects us to do is find whoever killed her husband and… bring them to justice. She’s wealthy and the job comes with a nicely sized payment. However…”

“However,” Luca picks up where he left off, “This kind of mission would necessitate us going in undercover, scoping out the event planners. Our best shot is booking a wedding of our own and making sure to find the killer before one of us ends up dead.”

Mikan gnaws on her lip thoughtfully. “Natsume and I are pretty well known, as far as operatives go. And you said Yuki Arakawa suspects the murderer has ties to the police. If we show up looking to plan a wedding and they run any kind of background check, we’ll be in serious trouble.”

“Same goes for Tobita or Shouda,” Tsubasa adds. “They have their own cover identities to protect. We can’t exactly send them to find a killer who’s in league with the cops. As for me...” He glances at his leg, where Hotaru knows layers of bandages are hidden under the fabric of his jeans. “I’d volunteer, but I’m still not exactly in top shape.”

“Which is why I didn’t want to take on this job,” Natsume mutters. Hotaru can’t help but stare at him as surprise wells up from within her. So he’s given me one of the jobs he initially refused, she thinks, blinking in disbelief before composing herself.

“If Mikan and Natsume can’t go because their covers were blown months ago,” she muses out loud, “and Sumire and Yuu can’t go because their current identities are too precious to waste on this mission, then our only option is to send in people whose faces won’t get flagged by the cops and whose identity as agents is unknown to them.”

Luca inclines his head, quietly agreeing with her.

“Your cover is intact,” he says. “So is mine. We can go in as a couple, set up a wedding in the next two weeks and keep an eye out for anything that looks suspicious.”

Hotaru finds herself nodding along. “Mikan and the rest can do an in-depth check from here, hack into the company’s business servers. The two of us -”

“Go in as bait,” Luca finishes. “I’m sure the client is willing to fund our wedding if it means she gets her husband’s killer.”

“And all we have to do is go dress shopping and show up on the big day,” Hotaru muses. It’s certainly a step up from getting shot at and crawling through drainage pipes.

A small smile makes its way onto her face. It works, this plan. They’re the right age for marriage and have certainly kissed enough times to sell the whole ‘young couple in love’ thing.

“Won’t two people getting married on such short notice seem weird though?,” Misaki asks. “I mean, I get that there’s shotgun weddings and all that but…Pretending you’re that into each other seems difficult. ”

Hotaru snorts. Getting Natsume Hyuuga to give her this mission was difficult. Surviving up to this point was difficult. Hell, even cleaning bird poop off her stuff was difficult. But pretending to be in love? Oh, pretending is something she has practiced for most of her life, something she has always needed to hide her bluntness and general lack of charm.

“I don’t think it’ll be an issue,” Hotaru says, allowing herself a smug grin.

Apartment 2B - rooftop, Tokyo / April 4th, 10am

After a unanimous vote in favor of accepting the job, Hotaru makes her way up to the roof with a spring in her steps. While it’s certainly true that a job tied to the police will be risky, she’s confident that they’ll have the murderer found and eliminated before any trouble arises. This mission will go wonderfully and it will finally, finally give her the money she needs. She pushes open the door to the roof and steps outside.

With a content sigh, Hotaru walks up to the balustrade and breathes in the fresh morning air. Her victory makes the spring day seem all the more enjoyable. Far below her, the city is bustling with activity, people running to go to jobs of their own, jobs that involve far less death than hers does. Far less excitement, too, she thinks to herself.

Creak.

Hotaru whirls around at the sound and comes face to face with Luca Nogi, his pet raven comfortably perched on his shoulder. His steps must have been silent enough to trick even her expertly trained ears.

“So,” he says. “We found you a job.”

“Thank goodness for that,” Hotaru mutters. “And...thank you, I suppose.”

“You were the one fighting tooth and nail for it,” he reminds her gently. “I did nothing, honestly.”

“Yeah right. Like Hyuuga would ever change his mind just because I asked him to. I can guess that you pushed him to give me what I want, so just accept my honest gratitude while it lasts.”

“I’m guessing I won’t be seeing your honest gratitude all that often, so alright. You’re welcome, Hotaru,” Luca says. He rests his elbows on the balustrade, watching her as she gazes down at the city.

“You must really want some new guns if you’re agreeing to a mission that could blow your cover,” Hotaru comments. He turns his head, a frown on his face.

“Or, you know, I just wanted to help you out,” Luca says slowly.

Hotaru snorts. Yeah right, she thinks. Why else would he defy his best friend for her? It’s not like they aren’t already sleeping together and if there’s one thing she has learned living in a world of spies, it’s that no one does anything without expecting something in return.

“But,” Luca continues, after a short pause. “You are also right about our equipment being bad. And you were right about our budget, too. We’re usually better at keeping it in check, but that’s generally Yuu’s job and he’s not around at the moment. I try to keep an eye on it but...numbers and maths aren’t my strong suit, I’ll admit.”

“Isn’t it Natsume’s job to look after the money?,” Hotaru asks. Luca’s face darkens.

“Natsume has enough on his mind,” he says softly before shaking his head. He reaches out to touch her elbow, turning her gently towards him. “But anyhow, I came up here for a reason.”

“Oh yeah?,” Hotaru says. She has a pretty good idea of what he means by that. Pushing away from the balustrade, she begins walking backwards until she feels the edge of the training mat at her feet.

“We can certainly have a little morning training session. Some close quarter combat. I’ll win, but hey. You get to watch me move.”

This is the part where Luca walks towards her, lets his hands rest on her hip. The part where he kisses her until they tumble onto the mat, their legs wrapping around each other. He wants her, she can tell by the way his pupils dilate ever so slightly and right now, she wants him too, wants to feel the bare skin of the man who is currently helping her get the money she needs. But Luca only blinks at her, his cheeks coloring. He clears his throat.

“As nice as that sounds, I came to ask you a question. I….That is, you….Do you….”

“Do I what,?” Hotaru interjects impatiently. Luca opens his mouth as if to talk, before stopping himself again.

“This isn’t how it’s done,” he mutters, more to himself than to her, before turning around, his blue eyes trailing across the roof.

Hotaru watches him, annoyance rising up within her. Not only isn’t he joining her at the mat, now he can’t even answer her question? She’s about to leave when he seems to find whatever he is looking for. With purposeful steps that make Mrs. Rogers fly up from his shoulder and seek shelter elsewhere, he walks to one of the many tables she’s scattered machinery parts on. He rummages around before grabbing something and turning back towards her.

“My mum did raise me to be a gentleman,” Luca tells her. “Obviously her teachings didn’t always take, I mean she once said to never use violence and to never steal or kill and honestly, now that I think about, she told me not to do any of the things that are now my job, but -”

“Nogi,” Hotaru says icily, interrupting his rambling. “Get to the point.”

“Right,” Luca says. He takes a deep breath and comes closer, until there is little more than a hand length of space between them. Then, he does something that shocks Hotaru.

He gets down on one knee. “Hotaru Imai,” Luca asks, “Will you marry me?”

Out on a rooftop in April, shivering slightly in the cool morning air and wearing yesterday’s hoodie isn’t exactly how Hotaru expected to be asked that particular question.

“This is a job,” she reminds him. “You don’t have to do this.”

“But I want to,” he says. “So, will you marry me?”

The sincerity in his voice merrily skips over all her walls, jumps past all the parts of her mind dedicated to assessing each situation and lands squarely on her heart, making it tighten in her chest. But no, this isn’t, this can’t be sincere. This is part of the act, Hotaru thinks.This is getting into character. She puts on a saucy smile and offers him her hand.

“Why yes, I will” she says, with a brightness that has little to do with the anxiousness she feels.

Luca reaches out, delicately taking her hand in his. His skin feels warm, clammy almost. As though he’s legitimately nervous. With his other hand, he produces the object he picked up from her work table and slides it onto her finger. It’s cool metal, shaped not quite like a ring, more like a hexagon. A steel nut, something meant to hold her screws in place when she fastens multiple pieces of an invention together. She must have left one lying around. Somehow, despite its less than ideal shape, it fits her finger perfectly.

“It fits you,” Luca says, echoing her thoughts. He clears his throat and gets up again, still holding her hand. Then, he lets her go and steps back again. There is a peculiar look on his face, as though he can’t decide whether the metal on her finger makes him happy or sad.

“I guess we’re engaged now,” he says.

“It would seem that way,” Hotaru replies.

With a curt nod, Luca leans forward. His lips brush her cheek, gentle enough to be little more than a feather caressing her skin. Somehow, the touch still manages to make her shiver. Hotaru wonders whether her pupils are as dilated as his were before, whether her desire is clear on her face. It probably isn’t, she thinks. Outwards expressions of emotion were never her thing. But this is acting, after all. She lets herself smile, expecting to see the same expression on Luca’s face as he draws back. Instead, his usually happy eyes are curiously blank.

“Have fun with your morning training,” he tells her, before turning around. The rooftop door falls shut behind him and Hotaru is left alone next to the training mat.

There is a strangeness to the whole situation that she can’t place her finger on. This morning, after realizing that Natsume had given her a mission because Luca pushed him to do so, she’d felt a gratitude towards him that was difficult to put in words. And then he’d agreed to enter into this fake marriage with her, to pursue the killer and finish the mission by her side. Despite her insistence that they not grow attached, he’d done his utmost for her.

She finds herself staring at the improvised ring on her finger. When he first gave it to her, it was still warm from being kept in his palm. Now the metal is cold. Hotaru pulls up her shoulders in an attempt to let the feeling of wrongness slide off her back but it sticks like oil to her skin. Still, she forces herself to smile. The money she needs is so close, she can almost smell it and her brand new fiancé’s behaviour can’t dampen her excitement.

There is however one thing Hotaru can’t help but notice: Somehow, getting engaged to Luca Nogi feels less intimate than all the moments they shared before.

[yukiversity]

[2.0] My Dream Guy Became A Dog [c1]

Su Xiaotang was a bland, fat and round female shut-in.

She opened a Taobao shop during her university days, called “You Look Like You’re Very Tasty”, which sold all sorts of snacks.

While she initially set it up to pass time and earn some extra cash, she didn’t expect this shop to have such good business under her management. By the time she was in her second year, Su Xiaotang could already earn enough to cover her tuition and living expenses, and was known amongst her classmates as Little Miss Moneybags.

After graduating from university, while everyone else was busy looking for jobs, Su Xiaotang stopped being a reseller of snacks. Instead, she rented an apartment with two rooms and a living area to buy wholesale, and continued running her snack shop until today.

Although this shop had allowed her to earn plenty and become rich in her own right, it had also made her roll further and further along the road of being bland, fat and round…

[Su Xiao Tang: sorry hun, there’s no more stock for the cranberry cookies~]

[I await hangrily: but I saw that there was still a bag left!]

[Su Xiao Tang: I’m really sorry, I just opened it up and ate it all (*^_^*) ]

[I await hangrily: 0.0 ...]

Her hair untied and extremely messy, Su Xiaotang did not portray a good image as she sat with crossed legs on her chair, throwing cookies into her mouth with her chubby hands. She was in the middle of convincing the buyer to buy another type of snack when her phone rang.

Her close friend, Li Ranran, had some bad news for her.

“Don’t blame me for not telling you ahead of time, but our university class reunion is tomorrow night. You better clean yourself up properly!”

“Huh? Do I have to go? That’s so troublesome, I have to wash my hair, change my clothes…”

“SU, XIAO, TANG! Do you want to be a shut-in until the day the sun dies and humanity is wiped out?” Li Ranran yelled from the other end of the phone.

The corners of Su Xiaotang’s mouth turned downwards as she held the phone a bit further away. “I really don’t want to go…”

“You don’t have a choice. How long has it been since the last time you went outside? If you keep living like this, you’ll devolve into a primitive caveman! I heard from the class pres that our class has plenty of high spec guys who are still single, so think about it! It’s a good opportunity! You might even find a boyfriend…” Li Ranran paused as if she was struck by a thought and softened her voice. “Um… Do you not want to see that bastard, Song Minghui?”

Li Ranran’s temper flared just by mentioning the name. “You sacrificed so much for that son of a bitch, you spent so much on him, you even funded the tuition fees for his master's degree. Then what did he do? Started working and snagged himself a younger girl from his company. What did I tell you? You can’t trust those country boys, they’re only out for your money. All those posts on Tianya Forum and they still didn’t deter you…”

While Li Ranran raged on the phone, Su Xiaotang cheerfully made another successful transaction. As she confirmed the delivery address with the buyer, she said to her friend, “Ranran, he already returned that money, with added interest too. Anyway, the past is in the past. I don’t want to go to the reunion because I’m lazy, not because of anything else.”

“What do you mean, ‘the past is in the past’, so what if he returned the money? What, did he think of you as a credit card? So he can get an advance and pay back later? You can’t settle this with just a bit of money!”

“Okay, okay! I’m busy right now so I’m going to hang up. I’ll be there on time tomorrow bye~” Su Xiaotang said rapidly, and hurriedly hung up before Li Ranran could say anything else.

*

When Song Minghui said he wanted to break up, it would be a lie to say she wasn’t upset.

Despite the lack of firework-like romance, she had started dating him with the intention of marriage and had been serious about their relationship. You’d be upset if you raised a dog from birth but it ran off with someone else, right? Even more so if it was a man you were in a relationship with for so long.

However, if you were to ask just how upsetting it was, it would only be around how upset you would be if a buyer bought a packet of snacks from you, ate half the packet, and then came back demanding a refund.

The times of major upheavals and memorable moments in her life were all given to a man named Fang Jingshen. From high school to university, she had a crush on him for a solid seven years. Her crush lasted until graduation in their fourth year, when her nanshen finally got a girlfriend--who just happened to be her roommate, Shu Tian, the campus belle. The two seemed to be perfectly matched, and were envied by many others…

As a measurement of how upset that made her, she felt despairing limbo, emptiness… it was as if she would never eat something delicious again in her life.

Then, not long after, Song Minghui confessed to her. He said that her chubbiness was very cute, and that he really liked her, and asked if she wanted to try being together with him.

So they became a couple too.

That was until half a year ago, when Song Minghui straightforwardly told her he had found his true love and made the move to break up. A few days later, he transferred ￥30,000 into her account with the intention to not have anything more to do with her. Of course, it was also because he didn’t want other people to talk about how he still owed her money.

Although Fang Jingshen and Shu Tian had broken up after just a few months together, Su Xiaotang wasn’t naive enough to think she would have a chance once Fang Jingshen was single again. She didn’t hold any hope to start with, which is why her one-sided love merely remained one-sided and his relationship with Shu Tian only cut off her prospects of looking upon him from afar.

*

The next day.

There was half an hour left before the reunion when Su Xiaotang finally forced herself to wash her hair and put on a set of her most comfortable clothes. While she was thinking about whether she had anything else to prepare, a round husky jumped over from her balcony and lay at her feet, panting and aggressively wagging his tail at her.

This ‘round weapon of mass destruction’ she owned made Su Xiaotang very perplexed.

She had left her dog alone at home once, however, he not only made a mess in the bedroom and living area, but also managed to open the door to her stockroom. When Su Xiaotang came home that night, she found the place to be as if a tornado had ripped through, leaving a mess of destruction in its wake. Yet the culprit for the mess had the gall to come up to her, wearing an expression of innocence and acting cute with his tail wagging happily, making her so angry she was very tempted to just eat the thing…

After that incident, Su Xiaotang tied him up with a chain the next time she needed to go out. But because the damn animal was so full of energy, she later found that the chain had rubbed off a circle of fur and had chafed the dog’s skin.

Su Xiaotang had a sharp tongue but a soft heart, so she couldn’t bring herself to tie the dog up again. Instead, she tried to take him along whenever she needed to go out. Thank goodness she barely left the house anyway.

Now, seeing that Su Xiaotang looked like she was heading out, this foolish dog immediately pattered over and tried to join in with her on the fun. First he rubbed against her leg, then he put both paws up on the door, clearly desperate to go out too.

Seeing that his owner was still standing in the same place, the dog confusedly yelped at her and went to pull her pant leg.

Exasperated, Su Xiaotang had no choice but to make a phone call to Li Ranran.

“Hello? Xiaotang, have you arrived yet? I’m already at the restaurant!”

“I’m just getting ready to leave, but I don’t know what to do with Meatball. Does the hotel allow dogs?”

Li Ranran knew all about how energetic Meatball was, so hearing Su Xiaotang say this didn’t surprise her at all. “Give me a min, I’ll go ask for you!”

“Okay.”

A while later, Li Ranran happily told her, “Xiaotang, it’s all good, you can bring Meatball along. The manager is a close friend of one of our classmates, and he said that it’s fine as long as you keep a firm hold over him.”

“Alright, I’ll be there in roughly twenty minutes,” Su Xiaotang said as she patted Meatball on the head.

“Give me a call when you arrive, I’ll pick you up at the front doors.”

*

When Su Xiaotang arrived at the restaurant’s doors, Li Ranran excitedly made a mess of Meatball first, before eyeing Su Xiaotang up and down with a look of disgust. The desire to kick Su Xiaotang back home was very obvious in her eyes.

“Didn’t I tell you to clean yourself up properly? And yet you come here looking like this?”

Su Xiaotang was afraid of the cold, so she was already wearing a down jacket at the beginning of winter. She was fat to start with, and now she looked more like a ball.

“I did wash my hair! These clothes were washed yesterday as well…” Su Xiaotang replied weakly.

Li Ranran couldn’t stop sighing. “What do you want me to say about you, Su Xiaotang? Are you a woman at all! Can’t you spend some time on your own appearance? Just what do you spend all that money you’ve earnt on! I’m starting to regret calling you over. Oh man, you haven’t seen what that bastard Song Minghui looks like right now. It’s as if he’s at the top of the food chain. The woman beside him too, wearing brand names from head to toe and shining like a beacon. Apparently she’s the daughter of some higher up at his company? So he’s also climbed up a bit in the ranks. I was hoping you would be able to counterattack, but if you’re going in there looking like this, it would definitely be a KO for you. Also, Su Xiaotang, tell me honestly, did you put on more weight? What happened to losing weight…”

Girls will dress themselves up for their admirers, but there isn’t a guy who will even look at me as a woman, Su Xiaotang grumbled internally.

She had no desire to dress herself up because she didn’t have admirers, which led to having no admirers because she didn’t dress herself up, which then circled back to not wanting to dress herself up. It was a continuous loop that could not be broken.

“I live for myself, so why does it matter how other people are?” Su Xiaotang mumbled.

Li Ranran did not want to say anything more to this blockhead, because she knew Su Xiaotang wasn’t pretending to be open-minded; it was just that she had become a true airhead from being a shut-in for so long.

*

There were already ten or so people inside the reserved private room when the two (and dog) arrived. Some were chatting and singing in twos and threes, while another group was playing mahjong.

“See her? That’s Lin Xue! Looks like a pretentious bitch, doesn’t she!” Li Ranran gestured in the direction of the mahjong players. Su Xiaotang followed her line of vision and sure enough, there was Song Minghui, playing mahjong with a woman snuggled up tight against him.

Song Minghui had also raised his head at that moment and saw them. He swept his eyes over Su Xiaotang, then quickly looked away, as if he couldn’t bear to have her in his sight; utter disgust was clear in his eyes.

Although Su Xiaotang was fat, her face wasn’t wide, and her five sense organs were actually quite nicely grown. During the peak of her crush on Fang Jingshen back in university, she would spend a fair bit of time on her appearance too, leading to how Song Minghui described her as ‘chubby but cute’ when he first confessed.

But the Su Xiaotang now looked a lot worse than she did back in the day. Wearing a ￥300 down jacket from Taobao and thermal pants despite being fat, with hair pulled back into a low bun because she didn’t like static, her appearance could be summarised with one word: loser.

Su Xiaotang’s face was very easy to recognise, so it didn’t take long before a classmate realised who she was. Then, after seeing the dog by her feet, they excitedly asked: “Su Xiaotang, is this your dog? It’s a husky, right?”

“Yeah.” Su Xiaotang nodded and found a place to sit down.

“He’s so cute, what’s his name?” She was suddenly surrounded by several women.

“Meatball.”

Meatball wasn’t shy with strangers at all, and was especially happy with all the attention given to him by these beauties, who would rub his fur and feed him nice things. He was evidently having a better time at this gathering than his owner was.

”Like owner, like dog. Su Xiaotang, your dog’s physique is so similar to yours!” someone said. It was unknown if this comment had intentional connotations or not.

Su Xiaotang laughed it off without thinking much of it, but Li Ranran was not happy. “Zheng Fang, what the hell did you mean?”

Li Ranran wouldn’t care too much if someone else had said it, and would think of it as a well-meant joke; but this person was from the same hometown as Song Minghui, and had chased after Song Minghui at one point, although she did not succeed.

“It was a joke~” Zheng Fang looked like she didn’t mean it seriously, then purposefully asked, “Su Xiaotang, where are you working at right now? Unless you’re still fussing over that little shop of yours?”

Zheng Fang was working at this city’s top construction company, with a monthly income of ￥8,000, and had asked her question with a tone of superiority.

“Haha, that’s right.” Su Xiaotang continued to smile.

Li Ranran couldn’t take it any longer and interjected: “Xiaotang’s snack shop is really popular, okay? Her monthly net income is at least ￥20,000, and at times like double eleven and end-of-year sales she can earn over ￥10,000 a day…”

Zheng Fang’s facial colour changed as she listened to Li Ranran and shut up.

Lin Xue decided to give her two cents too: “I didn’t realise snack shops could earn so much money! If I knew earlier I would’ve opened one myself, hahaha…”

Of course a rich missy like her wouldn’t need anything like that, it was obvious she was showing off her status. After all, a gossipy classmate had just teasingly told her about Song Minghui’s relationship with this fat woman.

Her giggles made Li Ranran get goosebumps, and she immediately looked over at Song Minghui, saying: “Hah, why else would a certain someone be so shameless when they chased after Xiaotang?”

Zheng Fang finally got the chance to sneer, “Hah, who would be interested in her if it wasn’t for her ￥20,000?”

Sparks crackled in the room between the parties involved.

The person in question was still happily playing with her dog as if she didn’t realise what was going on, but discreetly held a furious Li Ranran down in place.

It was not as if she wasn’t upset, it was just that she had become immune to these comments. Su Xiaotang had tried to lose weight before, but because of her digestive system, what could be done when she would gain weight even if she ate nothing and only drank water everyday? She had been at her thinnest during her university days, and that was the end of it.

At that moment, the door to the private room creaked open and a few people, who didn’t seem like her classmates, walked in.

Jiang Hua, the class president, immediately went up to greet them. “We were just talking about why you guys haven’t arrived yet!”

“Alright everyone, let me introduce you to our medical faculty’s top students! Not many from our class were able to make it today, so I called people over from another class too!”

Medical faculty?

Su Xiaotang, who had been nestled in a dark corner, felt like she was a wilting little sapling which suddenly got a huge bucket of fertiliser dumped on it, and was instantly full of spirit again!

STAFF

Neves: translator

Neves’s translation notes: while I had to take some liberties and rephrase some lines with appropriate English meanings, I feel like it's important to explain that Su Xiaotang's name is written as 苏小棠 in Chinese, while her Taobao name is 酥小糖, which is read the same way as her real name. To differentiate between the two, but also keep the original punniness, I chose to use 'Su Xiao Tang' for her Taobao name.

[thatchoiboy]

Fanfiction Recommendations [GOT7] I

Having trouble looking for some good fanfictions? I'll try my best to put the fanfics you are looking for on this list! {the ones I listed here are the ones I've already read or currently reading} [fanfictions belongs to owners] i have a lot more than the ones i have listed here but this is only the first one. I'll do more kpop groups fic rec besides got7~ Please like or reblog if this helped you in some ways. I spent more than 8 hours doing this (and im hella tired) and typing a lot so i appreciate if you atleast like it. if there's a specific group and a specific ship you want me to do fic recs.. ask away! :D For now, enjoy~~ GOT7 [on asianfanfics] ~ 2jae -> OPERATION: LOVE by UnGodlyHours description : When a diligent agent threw his life away to pursue an "impossible" mission, he vowed to get it over with as soon as possible without any strings attached. However, his careless gambling led to an unexpected development in the agent's relationship with his target. This development seems to be the reason that's stalling the agent from completing his assignment. But he isn't even complaining. status: completed ~ markjin -> OPERATION: HATE (PREQUEL) by UnGodlyHours description : Park Jinyoung grew up lavished in wealth and luxury. Never has anyone dared laid a hand on the demanding young master. Mark Tuan grew up far away from his loving family. Never has he ever taken liking to rich spoiled brats. status : ongoing ~ 2jae -> OPERATION: US (SEQUEL) by UnGodlyHours description : Madly in love with his husband, Jaebum does everything to please him and everything to protect him. Happily in love with his husband, Youngjae would willingly give up his life for him in a heartbeat. And there's Mark and Jinyoung, the ideal of two husbands who are deeply in love with each other. status : ongoing ~ 2jae -> Daddy, Are You There? by UnGodlyHours description : A single dad. A very sassy five-year-old. And a beauty with a soft heart for kids. status : completed ~ 2jae -> Dangerous Game by chocopieyj description : Youngjae isn't a kid anymore. He doesn't play games with his friends like he used to. But there's a game; a game that he was forced to learn, a game that's not fun but is fruitful. An adults game with only one rule: Don't fall in love. Never. status : ongoing [M] ~ 2jae -> All I Want by deffsouls description : Youngjae was an observer. No, he wasn't the class weirdo looking out of place, but also wasn't anything like the person he was in love with. It would be best to describe him as a mere outsider. He couldn't even be considered a supporting character, but 'narrator' fitted him well since he never had his own story to tell, always focusing on people around him. Never himself. Had Youngjae known what would happen later, he would've remained that way. status : ongoing [M] ~ 2jae -> You can be the boss by deffsouls description : The moment his father died, Youngjae knew something was off. There was no way a boss would have let himself killed that easily, much less with no clues left behind. Completely alone with the family business to run, now it was up to him to put the pieces of the puzzle together, find the culprit and take revenge. As he goes down a deranged path, secrets from present and past start to emerge, making Youngjae start to question if everything he had been through until that day was really due to fater or merely family business. 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However, things happen to become more dangerous and exciting. Youngjae gets to know Jaebum, the handsome senior, who has a girlfriend. Apparently, the last two trimesters seem to be adventureous but risky as well. status : completed ~ markjin -> Dreams of the devil by Miyakolzumi description : When Park Jinyoung, a science freak in his second year of high school, is suddenly pulled into a different world full of supernatural creatures that attend school together, he wakes up in the bed of a handsome young man that calls himseld the devil's son and Jinyoung can't quite deal with it all. status : ongoing [M] ~ 2jae -> Rewind by belonika description : [college!AU] The struggles of sharing a dorm room with someone unaware of his cuteness and its effect on the poor roommate. status : ongoing ~ 2jae -> My Unsociable Sub by markjincupid description : They say 'opposite poles attract.' Maybe that's the reason why Jaebum, a very confident, filthy rich and straight forward guy, felt a massive pull towards the unsociable and shy employee of his company, Youngjae. Trying to be comfortable with his ever so persistent and demanding boss wasn't at all easy but can Youngjae still keep with the progress between them when he finds his gorgeous boss was a dominant? Much more when Jaebum tells him he wants him to be his submissive. Will Youngjae run away? Or will his undeniable submissiveness gave in to temptation? status : ongoing [M] ~ 2jae -> Blood Scent|2jae by Orenji-Senpai description : His eyes, nose, and dark stained red lips. I want him to be mine but I'm afraid to bruise his pale skin. I want to show him the real me but I'm afraid he would fear me. I want to protect him but I'm afraid he would question me. I want to kiss him but I'm afraid he would reject me. What can I do to please make your scent mine? status : ongoing ~ 2jae/yugbam/markjin -> An Unexpected Happenstance by beeayypee description : No one knew that seven typically sexually frustrated and chaotic boys from all walks of like would make a messy outcome. No one knew these bunch would prosper their way through high school, together. No one knew they were desperately suffereing to fit into the society. No one. status : ongoing ~ yugbam -> We Got Married by YugBam97Lover description : The maknae couple secretly got married. And it's up to older boys to keep it a secret from the public and JYP. status : completed [M] part of "GOT7 ENGAGEMENT SERIES" ~ 2youngjae -> baby bear by choimiah description : Youngjae knows that it's abnormal, unconventional, and downright filthy. But he loves the rush of being ogled and desired and the center of anyone's universe. He can't help the thrill of stretching himself on camera and having someone thousands of miles away or even blocks away from losing themselves because he's doing everything right. Call it a guilty pleasure or secret addiction, but all Youngjae knows is that he likes being pampered and objectified and everything that comes with is. However, Youngjae isn't dim; he knows there are sickos out there wanting to do things to him even he can't get off at (and please believe, there are many things he can get off at). So when users bigpapa and sweetpeach approach him about an arrangement offline, Youngjae is rightfully hesistant. His terms are that their first meetin be in a public place with lots of people. Little could he have known he would wish that nobody were around at all because no two people have ever made him feel like such a Little before. status : ongoing [M] ~ 2jae -> Then Elope With Him!!! by got7_jae description : Jackson came up with a good idea on how Jaebum can retrieve his Youngjae from Mark. Jaebum's boyfriend had an idea too but none of it works. Thank goodness their Jinyoung-eomma knows how to cook meatball spaghetti! status : completed ~ 2jae -> Sweet As Sugar (sour as lemon) by Darthkouhai description : He's the residential "bad boy", cold glare to match his leather jackets and multiple piercings. Guys are afraid of him, girls love him. He's the heartbreaker, so there's no way he's in love-- "Hyung?" Youngjae looks over at him with a sunny grin that makes Jaebum's heart jump to his throat. Oh fuck. status : ongoing ~ markjin -> The Office Ban by KVNGMARK description : What happens when Park Jinyoung becomes the rookie of a top music company in Seoul? The CEO of this renowned company Mark Tuan- rumored to be a mysterious man, made a great first impression on the rookie. After that day, Jinyoung couldn't help but feel his heart race whenever they encountered each other. Mark took interest in the newbie after realizing the similarities he had with him. Once Jinyoung was informed of the "No Office Romance" rule, his mind eased a little until he came face to face with Mark again. The two began to fall for one another but with conflicts rising against them, mishaps were bound to happen. status : ongoing [M] ~ 2jae -> The Third Favor. 2jae edition by Wookiell description : Jaebum was a regular high school student, thinking about college and completely bored of life. He wasn't what you could call 'sociable'. Mostly because that's how his nature was and in part because his only three friends were at the other side of the world, yet he didn't really need more of them. Well you could say books were his unconditional friends. That's why he always spend all the time he got at the school's library; making himself happy with the new book he could find to read. He loved swimming across the never-ending shelfs full of books, serching for one which satisfice his curiousity and hunger for something interestiing... and maybe it was fate when one particular afternoon he found the most intriguing book he have ever seen, leading him to accidentally summon one demon as bored as Jaebum, with the same hunger for something interesting to do. status : ongoing ~ markson/2jae -> Thirst Has No Curfew by Alex-su description : Mark and Jackson hooked up a few months backand have fooled around since. Oh, and Mark's boss has been trying to get him to meet (read: date) her son. status : completed (for the markson part) ongoing (for the 2jae part) [M] ~ markjin -> How to Tame a Playboy by markenjin description : Mark Yien Tuan thinks everyone's hearts is a game he could always win and Park Jinyoung doesn't want a game he could lose so he decided to tame the player. status : completed [M] ~ markjin -> I Tamed the Playboy by marknejin description : How to Tame a Playboy sequel status : completed [M] ~ markjin -> Daddies'Day Out by markenjin description : It's not only marriage that can bind two people with full time responsibilities, it can be a two feet walking human wearing an oveersized banana jumper. status : ongoing ~ markgyeom/2jae -> Lamia by IHNFL14 description : Yugyeom is a wizard in training and everything is well until he meets a human boy named Mark. After that everything goes downhill, along with Jaebum. status : ongoing ~ 2jae -> The Boy Who Cried Murder by choimiah description : Just the word prison would send shivers racing through anyone. As it should. But, the only thing Youngjae feels is an overwhelming sense of home. Youngjae can paralyze a human in under thirty seconds just by pinching designated pressure points along the spine and throat. He knows the proper technique of handling a firearm, always intending to immobilize but never kill. He also has the ability to weaponize basically any common object if need be. Yeah, his grandfather taught him some things. And Youngjae never thought he'd have to utilize what he's learnt. That is until a certain waltzes into his life and flips his sedentary existence on its side. Jaebum, Im. Voluntary Manslaughter. Sentence: --- TBD. status : ongoing [M] ~ 2jae -> Sneezy Hyung by cily265 description : Choi Youngjae is a loud kid from the countryside who moves in next to Im Jaebum to the city. Jaebum or 'JB' is not a pervert, but when he has sexual thoughts he has a sneezong fit. It's his little 'dirty' secret, but he's not the only one that has things to hide. status : ongoing ~ 2jae -> Seven Days by cluelesspanda description : Youngjae likes Jaebum. Jaebum is known to date those who confess to him. But it only lasts a week. Youngjae knows this and yet he still wants to try. status : ongoing ~ 2jae -> Because he's mine by KpopOwl description : Jaebum is the spoiled son of a rich househi=old, his days are wasted in every single activity that is sure to piss off his awful step-father. Youngjae grew up in an orphanage and right before he turns eighteen he is illegaly adopted and then sold to a rich family he knows nothing of. They will end up save and free each other. status : ongoing [M] ~ markjaeson ft 2jae and JJP -> Take A Picture (itll last longer) by Darthkouhai description : He was in college, he was jobless, and he was broke; so what was a boy to do? The pay was good and it was anonymous, so he wasn't going to complain- and hey, he looked mighty fine in a dress. status : ongoing [M] ~ markson/yugbam/JJP -> Safety Inn by tearyxz description : Welcome to Safety Inn, where all guests are guaranteed a safe and comfortable stay. status : ongoing ~ 2youngjae -> I want to be with you by TWINpower description : Youngjae likes Jinyoung, Jinyoung likes Jaebum, and Jaebum.... well you will see xD Will their feelings change? status : ongoing ~ 2youngjae -> Trinity by Jheiaa description : Jinyoung and Jaebum finally find the person who makes their triquetra soulmate marks complete. status : ongoing (hiatus) [M] ~ 2jae -> Hold the sugar, please. You're sweet enough for me. by Jheiaa description : In which every customer has a crush on Dream Bean's sweet, oblivious sunshine barista Youngjae, Jaebum is having none of it, Yugyeom tries to teach Kunpimook about the wonderful world of latte art, Jinyoung is being a mom, the king of pick-up lines Jackson is playing matchmake and Marks is 100% done with everyone status : ongoing (hiatus) ~ 2jae -> Words That Start With P by Unnie19 description : Pain starts with P. Pleasure starts with P. And Jaebum's favourite word that leaves Youngjae's lips when he's begging "Pl-please..", Also starts with P. status : ongoing [M] ~ 2jae -> Expoloding Bonbons & Butterbeer by Retr0spect desciption : Cute Hufflepuff Choi Youngjae has a crush on the Gryffindor Quidditch team captain. status : ongoing ~ jackjaeyoung -> soft radical by choimiah description : Youngjae never thought she's spend her summer doing anything more than writing poetry inspired by her almost too vivid daydreams, binge-watching entire dramas until she start sleeptalking horribly greasy pick-up lines, and sketching on her bedroom walls; but her sleepy, overcast summer takes an exciting derailment when a new boy moves in across the street who apparently likes to throw quiet ragers of one late at night and frustrate Youngjae to the point where she ventures out of her safe bubble and into his strange, little world. status : ongoing [M] ~ 2jae -> The No. 1 Fan by got7_jae description : Im Jaebum and Park Jinyoung meets JJ Project's one and only no. 1 fan: Choi Youngjae. status : completed ~ 2jae/markjin/jackbam -> All the things he said by TWINpower description : Youngjae, Mark and Bambam were adopted by a pervert when they were really young. When they finished a proper age the man started to use them sexually and after some time they got use to it. Now they can't even live a day without sex, they all have a mental problem called satyriasis. status : ongoing [M] ~ markjae -> 9,606 Kilometers by _acee_ description : Ever since Choi Youngjae was born, he has a watch on his left wrist that cannot be removed. 9606, it read. A little did he knew that it as the total distance between him and his fated soulmate. Everytime the numbers would decrease, his heart would lit up with joy and wished that it would decrease more. He longed to see his fated soulmate even though they're 9,606 kilometers apart. status : completed ~ 2jae -> Just stay by cant_stop_kpop description : This is a romantic comedy about got7, specifically 2jae. status : completed ~ JJP/yugjin/jackbam/markjae -> OMG! (Oh My Girl) by silverpixie120 description : The unpopular Jinyoung, Youngjae, and Bambam were cross-dressing for School Festival. They weren't aware that it attracted the popular Mark, Jaebum, Jackson, and Yugyeom. And slowly brought them further to something they never thought of before. status : ongoing ~ 2youngjae -> Three's A Company by Darthkouhai description : Between Jaebum's hand tugging at his hair and Jinyoung's fingers digging into his hips, Youngjae can't move, stuck at the mercy of his two hyungs. Neither of them want to let up, seeming to move rougher with every need noise Youngjae let's out. He wouldn't- couldn't complain. Not when it felt so good, not when he wanted more. status : completed [M] ~ 2jae/markbum/JJP -> You're Mine (넌 내꺼야) by Bluetick description : Jaebum received hundred of letter from nameless person with the same content - You're Mine -. He tried to ignore until one day when things are getting out of hand. status : completed ~ markjin -> Hyungdo Massacre by markenjin description : Mark Tuan, a young gifted detective, tries to solve the mysterious unsolved case that happened 10 years ago which murdered 12 families in their compound including his family. Finding the murderer and his beloved best friend, Jinyoung, who was actually the 'lost boy' in the said incident were his ultimate motive in solving the case. status : completed [M] ~ 2youngjae -> There's Room Enough For Three by Darthkouhai description : It's a pleasant (albeit unexpected) surprise when Jaebum comes back to his dorm the next day to a bright smile (was it shining? Probably) and an even brighter greeting. His roommate was in the process of moving a few boxes into the vacant room when Jaebum opened the door, so at first Jaebum only sees the back of his body. Maybe this wasn't so bad after all? status : ongoing ~ 2jae -> the boy who lost his phone by KwangYoungShipper description : *BAM* "Ah-Mianhae!" Youngjae bowed as quickly to the person he bumped into and ran out of the library "I'm so late, Jin's going to kill me" Jaebum blinked as the stranger ran away in such a rush and stared at the floor, seeing an iPhone just laying there. status : completed ~ JJP/markbum -> Connection by itspoppynada description : Mark is a new pediatrician who works for his family hospital. He meets Jaebum when he is treating his son, and their first meeting is not very pleasant. But since then, Mark has been sensing a weird presence of a gentle-looking guy, which is not seen by anyone else. Later he finds out that the guy has something to do with Jaebum and his son, which lead him to start to care for the family. status : ongoing ~ JJP/markson -> mission log : unit seven description : 003. there's not really much of a question about it- jinyoung would die to save any other member of unit 7. the discovery that they would do the same for him shouldn't set him om edge this much, except it does, but figuring that out isn't high on his list of priorities right now. unfortunately for him though, someone tries to change that. status : ongoing ~ 2jae -> Netflix & Chill? by aka-jongups description : In which Jaebum invited Youngjae over for a simple movie night. But something else happens while the younger visits his classmate, who laso happends to be the guy he likes. status : completed ~ 2jae/markson -> The Compelling Adventures of Thot7 by darkalley description : Youngjae blames Jackson and jinyoung for getting him in this shit entirely. status : ongoing [M] ~ 2jae -> 62 Detour Lane by yoshiwoo description : It was all supposed to be a small road trip. Until you took a slight detour. "If you were a vegetable, you'd be a cutecumber." "I hate you." status : ongoing ~ markjin -> A Demon's Mind Games by Mudalion description : A large amount of people are cursed one night by an unkwonw figure. A curse they cannot control. It comes to life at the worst of times and changes them. They became desperate to get rid of their hunger; hunger that can only be relieved througgh sexual acts. They'll do anything to feed themselves, even if it's the forcing of the willing. status : ongoing [M] ~ 2jae -> Macchiato Days by choimiah description : Youngjae came in one morning and found this guy sleeping under a table. status : completed ~ 2jae -> Anonymous by sweetdeadlybackup description : Youngjae is crushing hard on a certain football player named Jaebum. One day, love notes start appearing in Youngjae's locker, whoever could be leaving the notes? status : ongoing ~ 2jae -> My Teddy Bear by exofanficss description : JB was jealous, his teddy bear wasn't giving him his full attention. status : ongoing ~ 2jae -> The Bully's Playlist by got7_jae description : Jaebum just wanted know Youngjae's name. Youngjae wouldn't be playing hard to get if it wasn't Jaebum asking, the mighty Im Jaebum. status : completed ~ markjin -> Elemental Heirs by markjincupid description : Seven boys found themselves tangles in an ancient legend leading them in a dangerous pursuit of long forgotten justice for thier race. Seven boys who have discovered the meaning of both friendship and love among the chaos of fighting for revenge and survival. status : completed [M] ~ 2jae -> The Big Crush Theory. 2jae edition! by Wookiell description : Choi Youngjae is what you could call a 'nerd', but he's not the typical, shy nerd. He's the perfect mix between Sheldon Cooper's mind and a sarcastuc, sharp and strong personality. But there's something Youngjae and the typical nerd share: a bully So, what happens when Youngjae finds out that his bully and archi-enemy suddenly became his step-brother? Well, a long year had passed since that day... Why don't we see how thing are for Youngjae now? status : completed

[11eustonwehaveaproblem]

Post-Cat Stress Disorder

It is now day 10 of a 20-pound bag of cat food being used as a door stop to the front door of the apartment building, and I am sick and tired of it.

You see, first of all, this is a safety hazard for many reasons. Imagine that a fucking murderer is chilling in Brookline, one of the safest neighborhoods in Boston but still, imagine that there is a murderer. This murderer is walking around, maybe trying to find the Kennedy family’s house somewhere deep in Brookline so that he can rob and kill them, and he sees that there is a building on Euston Street that is fully open to the public because there is a bag of cat food holding the door open. He walks into this building and picks the lock of apartment 1, and then kills me, my boyfriend and all of my roommates.

Number two, imagine that someone is coming home drunk from a night of fiesta-ing and walks in through the door. They are so drunk that they do not remember that a 20-pound bag of cat food is blocking the door, and they trip and fall and then hit their head on the banister of the stairwell that leads up to the other apartments, and their head cracks open and they die, and I discover them when I walk out of my home at 12 p.m. the next afternoon just trying to get some brunch with M, and then I have to call 911 or whatever and I become a central character in a mysterious murder when it was the fucking cat food all along.

Three, it reminds me of how that cat food even got there in the first place: it was my horrid former roommate A’s bag of cat food, because, despite my horrific cat allergy, she had a cat. See, I TOLD YOU she was the worst!!!

In the beginning of the year, before I even moved in, I stated that I had a cat allergy and that I only had one living condition: I cannot live in a house with cats. Sounds reasonable, yes? Apparently, it was not.

This whole gross cat business started when she got drunk and went to this cat show with my other roommate T, the one who I actually liked. They texted in the groupchat that they got a cat, and I thought that they were joking. Turns out they weren’t, obviously, but they didn’t come home with the cat. The cat had gone home with A’s boyfriend, J, and A said that it would stay with him and just be brought over for her to play with sometimes, and that she would always keep it in her room with the door locked.

I was placated by this, and really didn’t care. But then one day, I got home and the cat was sitting on the living room couch with A and J, who were drinking 40s of beer at, like, 11 a.m. on a Wednesday. I blanched.

“Oh, hey, Case!” A called out, using a nickname that I absolutely hate.

“Heeeeeeeeey,” I said, approaching slowly.

“This is Lucy! Wanna meet her?” J said, clearly unaware that I am extremely allergic to cats.

“I’m good,” I said. “Is she living with you?” I asked him, trying to remain low-key.

“Yeah, but I brought her over so A could chill with her,” J replied, and I was calmed again.

“Cool. Well, I’m allergic to cats, so just make sure she doesn’t get into my room,” I said.

“Oh, shit. Okay, will do. Sorry!” J said. He was extremely nice and wonderful.

“No worries!” I said, because I am a pushover and a peacemaker and I will do literally anything -- a n y t h i n g -- to avoid confrontation, especially with A, who was and still is one of the scariest people I’ve ever met.

Needless to say, Lucy the cat, that fucking ugly, fat-ass cat, never left the apartment after that day. A started to clandestinely keep her in the apartment and only let her out of her room when I wasn’t home, but this only worked for a short amount of time because I started sneezing. And sneezing some more, and sneezing some more.

I confronted A about it one day over text message, when I knew she wouldn’t be home for a while, because like I said, that bitch scared the ever-living shit out of me. I asked if Lucy could be moved back to J’s, and A said that she complied. However, Lucy, again, never went back to J’s. She just continued to live in my apartment, and conditions got worse. A was no longer careful with making sure that Lucy stayed in her room. Lucy roamed the apartment like nobody’s business, and everything fucking stank of cat piss all the time. My allergies got worse and I had to take Claritin every day just to live in my house. I would stay out of the apartment for hours at a time and dread going home to sleep at night because I knew I’d wake up congested, with itchy eyes and a headache. I reminded A to move Lucy back to J’s, and she said that she was going to, again, but again, never did it. One time, I came home from getting literal surgery in New York City for the weekend and I opened my door, wanting nothing more than to collapse into my bed and go to sleep, and Lucy came bolting out of my room. That bitch knew she wasn’t supposed to be in there -- she knew.

I think that Lucy coming out of my room that afternoon was the final straw. I talked to V, who I thought was A’s best friend so I thought, wrongly, that A would listen to her. Turns out, everyone else in the apartment hated V as much as I did, so that was incorrect. But anyway, V talked to A and I expected that the cat would be moved back to J’s easy-peasy.

One day I was in the kitchen and A walked in, all breezy-like. “Hey! I called a cleaning service to clean up the house so we can see if that works to make your allergies better.”

“Oh, cool. Thank you. When is Lucy going back to J’s?” I asked.

“Well we’re gonna see if the cleaning service works first,” A replied. I wish I could have seen the look on my face just then.

“I DON’T USUALLY FUCKING SCREAM LIKE THIS BUT LIKE I HAVE BEEN DEALING WITH THIS STUPID CAT FOR SO LONG AND I AM SO ALLERGIC AND IT IS IMPEDING MY WHOLE LIFE AND YOU’RE LUCKY I DON’T SCREAM AND KICK YOU IN THE FACE FOR MAKING ME MISERABLE FOR LONGER LIKE I SNEEZE WHEN I’M AROUND A CAT FOR THREE SECONDS SO HIRING A CLEANING SERVICE TO GET THE STINK OF CAT PISS OUT OF EVERYTHING IS JUST TRULY NOT GOING TO WORK BECAUSE IT’S STILL GOING TO SMELL LIKE CAT PISS AND LUCY IS STILL GOING TO HANG OUT IN MY ROOM BECAUSE YOU DON’T RESPECT ME ENOUGH TO NOT LET HER IN MY ROOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” is what I screamed in my head.

“Okay, sounds good,” is what I said in real life.

To my complete and utter non-surprise, the cleaning service did not work. I was at peace for three days, but on day four I woke up with red, itchy eyes and cold symptoms. I told A that her mom absolutely had to come pick up Lucy by next weekend, latest. And it was still another month before that bitch got her fucking bitch-ass cat out of my space.

Her mom, to her credit, profusely apologized to me.

Anyway, boy, do I ramble or what?

So this bag of cat food brought back a lot of memories that I was trying to work on repressing. And I had had enough of it. I enlisted my roommates to all lift a corner of the bag of cat food and move it to the other side of the lobby so that it wasn’t convenient to be used as a doorstop.

I went to sleep feeling like I’d done something good for not only the safety of the building, but my mental health. Two mornings later, however, the bag of cat food had returned to its original doorstop usage. Using M’s help (read, telling M to go do it pleeeease), I just threw the goddamn thing out.

“Who keeps moving the cat food in front of the door?” I asked my roommates, knowing that it wasn’t any of them but just trying to communicate my frustration.

“It’s the boys upstairs,” G said. “One of them doesn’t have a front door key. I was like, then why don’t you ask David (editor’s note: David is our landlord) to get you a key? And he was like, cause he’s lazy.”

“Well I don’t want to get murdered!” I exclaimed, vocalizing my neuroses, of which I have many.

“I know!” G agreed, because she has some of the same neuroses as me, though thankfully not as many.

Anyway, we were soothed in knowing that we would not get murdered because we had thrown away the cat food. But then the following weekend, there was something else in place of the cat food: a fucking air conditioning machine.

K and I threw the air conditioning machine out in front of the apartment, and a few days later it had disappeared. It was a working AC machine, and someone had probably taken it. The apartment was safe once again.

A few days later, I discovered that a wooden board was now being used as the doorstop. This item was light enough for me to carry through my apartment and throw out in the dumpster in the back. I told myself that if one more item was going to be used as a makeshift doorstop, I would say something to the boys upstairs.

It was quiet for two weeks. But this morning, I walked out in the front to discover that a cereal box, all crumpled up but seemingly still with some cereal in it, was blocking the door.

“Oh my fucking God,” I groaned upon discovering this. I did not want to pick up the cereal box because it’s a food item, and that felt kind of gross. Maybe this had been their point in using a food item as the doorstop. Maybe this was our little game, and I had been unwittingly playing, like those Saw movies or whatever. Maybe we were flirting?

Instantly, I knew what I had to do. I took a few copies of the front door key that my mom had made for me in the beginning of the semester because she loves me and put them in an envelope, and then taped the envelope to their mailbox and wrote out “Apartment 3” on the outside. Inside, I wrote a little note on a Post-It.

Hi,

Here are a couple copies of the front door key. You can give them to whoever needs them. Please stop using items as a doorstop to the front door because if a murderer comes in, we’re the first ones to die. 😊

Love,

Apartment 1