#scrolled down on the dash and saw it had 100 something notes

[kandidandi]

HI MY R KEY GOT STUCK AND I'M SO SO SO SO SO SO SORRY IF YOU GOT LIKE 100 REBLOGS

THAT WAS ME AND I SINCERELY APOLOGIZE

OH LMAO HDHHDFHGDFUFD I JUST SAW THIS BAHAHAH DONT WORRY ABOUT IT I THINK ITS REALLY FUNNY!

[brandywine-tomatoes]

Omega's Sixteenth

99 FOLLOWER SPECIAL!!

Masterlist

Characters: The Bad Batch + Omega, Rex, Hera

Prompt/Inspo: #2 from my list: Cross teaches an older Omega how to use a rifle.

TW: blaster shots (to the armour, everyone's fine), it's just a lot of banter and family shenanigans

Word count: 1857

QUICK NOTE: just a bunch of fluff. This'll be a two or three part deal, so Cross actually teaching Omega how to use his rifle will come.

NO BETA, WE DIE LIKE CLONES

--

“Hunter, where we going?” Omega shouted ahead of the running group. Her hands were tightly gripped around the gold energy bow with a purple bolt already in place.

“Keep going!” He yelled, farther back down the hallway with the rest of the Batch.

Omega didn’t think her sixtieth birthday would be spent raiding an Imperial base for information, but there she was, dodging blaster bolts from circular corridors and laying down cover fire for the Batch who were looking for a way out as they ran aimlessly around the sky compound.

The skull embroidered bandana around her forehead kept her brown hair from her face as the customized armour weighed her down. She backed against a wall, peering down a corridor and quickly sprung back from the sizzling bolts whisking by.

Omega jumped from her spot and rolled away from the laying shots, pulling back the bowstring rapidly to take down the KX-series security droid. She was still on her knees with her bow outstretched as her team rounded the corner.

She stood, rolling her shoulders and pointing to the window at the other end. “We could jump.”

“And get squished like pancakes?” Wrecker sounded uneasy through his helmet. “No thanks, I’ll take the stairs.”

“We have KXs inbound,” Crosshair interrupted.

Omega walked to Cross’s position, the sniper offering his fire puncher for her to see. The scope looked through the walls and picked up the movement of what looked like a whole platoon of droids. “Shit.”

“Language!” Hunter raised his voice.

“No, I agree. We’re in deep shit.” Cross took back his rifle.

“Omega’s right, the window is our only option if we value our lives,” Tech looked back at the group from the circuit breaker he was fiddling with on the wall.

A duo of security droids came around the corner, blasting away. The Batch dove for cover around both corners, Crosshair, Hunter, and Tech across from Omega and Wrecker.

Omega and Hunter counted down to sync their defence and Omega’s bow was shot into another corridor as soon as she tried to let lose an energy bolt. She jumped back in shock and shook out her hands.

“You okay, kid?” Wrecker shouted over the blaster fire.

“I’m fine, but I don’t have a weapon!”

“Catch,” Crosshair sounded from the commlink wedged in her armour.

Crosshair threw a spare blaster across the hall with expert precision, Omega catching it with one hand and flying out into the fire of the droids. After a couple missed shots, she sent them both to the ground in a sparking heap.

Hunter ran from his spot against the wall and checked Omega over.

“Did they hit you? Are you injured?” He asked frantically.

“What is it with you guys? I’m fine, only a shot in the armour,” she shrugged Hunter’s hands off her shoulders. A fleeting look of hurt passed over his face before relief.

“We don’t have time, they’re rounding the corner,” Crosshair’s voice flooded through the comms.

“You could do what you did on Skako,” Echo looked down the corridor to find Cross firing an offence.

“Not enough time.”

Omega started down the hall towards the window, picking up speed. “The window it is!”

“Omega wait! We have to wait for the ship!” Echo shouted.

“We’re going to be blasted to hell if we wait! Tell them to hurry up!”

She heard Echo’s frantic chatter on the comms and the group’s heavy footfalls bouncing off the round steel walls as they followed her lead.

As the security droids rounded the corner, Omega was pushed through the tinted glass by a bolt to the back, tumbling through the air before landing face-first on the wing of the Havoc Marauder. She flipped herself onto her back and groaned, watching the blaster fire shoot out the window before, one by one, the batch landed on the wing. Their pilots kept the ship steady and flew off in a hurry once everyone had a hold.

If Omega wasn’t shot twice in the armour, she would’ve laughed blissfully as they flew through the fluffy orange clouds, holding out her arms as the moisture-created little droplets running off the armour plates and slicking back her hair. Instead, she laid there on the wing, holding on for dear life and hoping the moisture wouldn’t loosen her grip.

“You okay?” Hunter yelled over the rushing wind to Omega.

“Stop it!” She growled back.

Echo put a hand on Hunter’s shoulder. “Kids are like this when they’re older, it’ll pass. Don’t get hung up on it.”

Hunter only nodded, putting on his stoic face and looked ahead into the clouds.

--

Once they were far enough away from the Imperial compound, the Havoc touched down on a hill in the middle of a rolling prairie. Blue skies with fluffy clouds surrounded them and the plain landscape.

The Bad Batch slid off the wing, Omega refusing Hunter’s help, and waited for their pilots to extend the steps.

Hera exited the ship first, shouting that she was going to kill Omega for her ridiculous plan and started chasing the brunette. Omega took off in a sprint, yelling that it wasn’t her fault while laughing her head off. The Batch started taking bets on whether Omega would outrun Hera or not and cheered the kids on.

Rex watched the madness ensue, leaning against the door frame with a smile. A fleeting and pained memory of Anakin and Ahsoka at the start of her padawan days passed through and his smile dropped, his light mood dampened. He couldn’t let go of family so easily, but it only made it more painful to go on each day without them.

“We should probably get out of here, Sargent. Imps will be crawling all over the planet,” Rex retreated inside to the co-pilot's seat.

“Alright, pack it in guys! Onto the ship!” Echo shouted to the girls far off in the distance.

Omega sprinted up the steps, gasping for air while Hera held a smile on her face, her breathing barely obstructed. She saw the confusion and the team’s heads turning from the ship to her.

“I was track star at my school, 100 meters in 5 seconds,” she said proudly and climbed into the ship.

“Who knew?” Hunter remarked.

“You would if you paid attention to your kids,” Crosshair smirked and boarded the ship with the rest following.

“I do pay attention! You got something you want to say, Cross?”

“Of course not, Sarg.”

--

“Thank you for your hard work, Sargent Hunter,” the rebel cell leader’s recorded message projected on the dash. “You will be fairly compensated and given your next mission in two weeks. Enjoy this time off, there won’t be much more.”

Tech shut down her hologram and looked to Hunter in the seat behind Rex. The rest of the crew waited for their leader’s next order. They hadn’t had two weeks off... ever. The most clones got was a weekend, Omega was constantly working with Nala and then going on missions, and Hera had been training as a pilot or busy with school and family. Even their droids were never shut down for more than a day.

Wrecker scratched the back of his neck. “What are we doing, Sarg?”

Silence.

“Hunter?” Omega piped up from the shared seat with Hera.

“I’m thinking,” he waved them off.

Crosshair scoffed playfully and went further back into the ship. “That’s a first.”

“It’s already pretty tight in here,” he started. “I say we touch down on a planet, enjoy the peace for once.”

Hunter saw Hera visibly deflate and Omega put an arm around her shoulder.

“You can fly the ship, Hera, but only with one of the adults around,” Hunter added in defeat. She bounced in her seat and started talking with Omega excitedly, pressing a button on the armrest and spinning the seat around back to the stars.

“Where are you thinking?” Rex asked, silently praying for no god damn desert planets.

“I don’t know. Tech, any ideas?”

Tech pulled up his trusty datapad and started furiously tapping at the screen.

Crosshair had returned from the poor excuse of a kitchen with two soda cans and strolled smugly through the aisle to Hera and Omega. He sat on the floor, his back resting against the console, and gave the soda over to the kids. They jumped excitedly, not knowing there was any more of the fizzy drinks left, and swiped them from his hands. They filled him in quietly on what they were conversing about as Crosshair gave the rest of the crew a shit-eating smirk.

“I didn’t know we had any soda left,” Wrecker whispered to Hunter across from him.

“We don't.”

“This is why he’s the favourite, isn’t it?” Rex leaned to the side towards the two.

“He did this all the time on Kamino when we were cadets. It got the others off our backs.”

“I just hid in the ceiling panels,” Rex snickered.

“You weren’t always ‘mister beloved of the GAR’?” Echo shoved the captain's shoulder from his place against the wall.

“Hell no. Pretty sure Cody was part of the ‘fuck Rex squad’ at some point.”

“I think we all have seasonal membership cards.”

“Hey!”

“So there’s Mantessa,” Tech interrupted with the list of planets. “A thick jungle planet with a fiercely predatorial native species called the panthacs. They kill quite efficiently in their home environments; I’d quite literally commit murder to get documentation of their-”

“Tech, we have kids on board,” Hunter stopped him. “Maybe something more... vacation-y?”

Tech glared at him. “Vacation-y isn’t even a word-”

“Tech.”

“Fine fine,” he dismissed the idea, a little saddened that Hunter shot it down so eagerly.

“Mimban is largely unexplored and has a very turbulent atmosphere as well as energy storms in the stratosphere. It would be quite the learning experience for Hera to-”

“We aren’t looking for learning experiences, we’re looking for a break,” Echo said.

“You all have ridiculous standards,” he mumbled, scrolling to the bottom of his list. “Numidian Prime. The syndicates have been known to use it from time to time, but with the Empire extending it’s rein, it shouldn’t house too much trouble for us. There’s a very interesting bird species-”

“Tech.”

“I swear it’s habitable and without predatory species that would rip us to shreds,” he dismissed Hunter’s insistence. He tossed the datapad carefully on top of his satchel in the corner. “I think I heard a friend having a camp there, a Calrissian. He’ll let us stay.”

“How do you know?” Rex asked.

“He’s never there.”

Hunter clapped his hands, getting everyone's attention. “It looks like we’re vacationing on Numidian Prime.”

Hera, Omega, and Rex went to work on plotting their course and getting them to lightspeed while the Batch strapped in for the ride.

“After you,” Rex gestured to the console.

“Why thank you, Captain,” Hera smiled and pulled the hyperspace levers back. The ship stopped for a second and shot forward into the stars, a tunnel of churning light making way for the Havoc.

Omega sighed blissfully, sitting back against the seat. “This never gets old.”

--

I haven't posted any fics in 11 days, I really just needed to get something out for y'all.

ALSO

I reached 99 followers yesterday!! Well, it's 101 now, but thank you all for giving me a chance at sharing my love for Star Wars. It's you that makes this possible! I know I have a lot of improving to do when it comes to writing, but I'm so incredibly happy that you're giving me a chance and following along on my journey!!

Part 2 will be up soon (I hope), stick around for that! I post basically every day and I'm constantly online!

More fics of mine!

A War Without a Winning Side (Ahsoka, Rex, Maul series)

One of the Bad Ones (female!oc and Crosshair [platonic])

Only the Beginning (Cap. Howzer Part 1 (part 2 linked))

Hope was a Dangerous Game (male!oc and Crosshair [romantic])

Lightsaber Trials (fluff)

And here's my masterlist for more!

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Heya. Been out of the loop for quite some time. Saw your post about the film erasing Bill Murray's character and that it's a good thing; what's with the hatred towards BM? Genuinely curious. Was he caught up in a scandal recently?

About a year ago, I responded to this post that scrolled across my dash. It details a report that Lucy Liu and Bill Murray came to blows during filming on the first Charlies Angels film. While the nature of Murray’s exact words is inconsistent between reports, it boils down to this: Murray says something to Liu (a something generally characterized as antagonistic), and Liu responds with her fists, resulting in them being physically separated on set. 

Now anyone who knows me knows I don’t have much love for Murray. Depending on the film, he ranges from affable goofball to droll man-child. But there was always something off about his performances-- perhaps the fact he rarely smiles? Idk. But even as a young teen, Lucy Liu always struck me as a consummate professional who took all her roles very seriously. 

To my knowledge, Murray is the only one who ever commented publicly about the altercation. He waves it off as a matter of misunderstanding or miscommunication (lately the narrative is that he was complaining about the lines they had to say, not anyone’s performance) but whatever he says, it’s important to note that his is the only side we’ve heard. He’s been allowed to control the narrative, and I sincerely doubt he would say anything different unless otherwise exposed.

As a now-adult woman, I’ve seen similar exchanges more than a few times, and it has never been a matter of a woman going off at the drop of a hat, or as the result of a misunderstanding. It has never been a woman going from 0-100. It’s only ever been a woman needled repeatedly by an antagonistic coworker until she’s simmering at 99 for days/weeks/months, and then poked over the edge into 100 and she finally lashes out.

So for a reboot of a female-driven franchise, starring a diverse cast and written/produced/directed by a woman, I 100% support retconning such a person out of the series, and I honestly expect nothing less from Elizabeth Banks. 

((Not to mention that Murray would have been all wrong for Bosley regardless. This is not a Bill Murray kind of Charlie’s Angels.))

[maid-of-mourne-shore]

5 Ways to Say it - Bucky x Reader

This is my entry for @moonstruckhargrove‘s writing challenge! 

Scenario: Secret admirer

Summary: Where the reader finds four ways to tell Bucky her feelings, and Bucky finds one.

Warnings: None!

Please check out my Master list if you like this and want more!

February 10th - Red roses

Back in the day, James Buchanan Barnes was quite the ladies' man. This wasn’t groundbreaking news, but even in the 30s and 40s, he was typically the one giving the gifts, the flowers, the chocolates. Sure, times had changed, but he wasn’t that man anymore, and though he had been on a few dates here and there, life with the Avengers hadn’t exactly given him the kind of time he used to have for a social life. So, when Bucky walked out the kitchen that morning and found a vase of twelve, fresh cut, red roses addressed to one James Buchanan Barnes, he didn’t quite know what to do with himself.  

On top of this, Bucky was unsure of how to talk to women he found attractive anymore, let alone date them, he was out of practice to say the least. So, he had put his focus elsewhere, first and foremost, relearning who Bucky was, finding peace with his past, and standing up to his demons, all of which wasn’t exactly first date material, nor was it something a lot of people wanted to assist with for the long haul. Bucky was a handful and he knew it, so sometimes it felt better just to brave it alone.  

He took the small note attached to it, turning it over in his hands, it was pink with tiny hearts lining the edge. Not exactly subtle, but he wasn’t here to dissect someone’s approach to attraction, as his tactic had simply been clear avoidance. There was no name, and no indication of who it came from as he didn’t recognize the handwriting. Perhaps, they were not as bold as he originally thought. He was still in shock that someone would send him flowers, who would do that? And why? Bucky sighed, placing the note down and getting on with his morning, shuffling over to the coffee maker, and pulling out his favorite mug from the cabinet.

It wasn’t long before people began to trickle in, each one remarking on the bouquet on display, asking about its origins, trying to solve the mystery.

“It’s official, Bucky has a secret admirer,” Natasha smirked, eyeing the roses.  

“This 100-year-old tin can does nothing but mope around, and he gets flowers?” Sam exasperates, gesturing to Bucky. “I don’t get women.”

“Some girls like the quiet kind,” Wanda says, giving a shy smile.

“Don’t worry, Buck. We’ll figure out who it is,” Steve gave him a winning grin, as he saw the dread on his best friend’s face. Bucky wanted to know who they were, but he was also terrified, having to face someone’s affections head on.  

February 11th - Favorite dessert

Bucky had always enjoyed working out, even before he became a soldier, it was something he could focus on, under his control, and sometimes it just felt good to hit something. Physicality was important to him, using it as a way to express himself, a medium to expel energy, this new chapter of his life with the Avengers only strengthening that, as he had to keep up his skills for combat, in peak condition to weather all sorts of conditions, and Bucky genuinely enjoyed that challenge.  

But Bucky also had a sweet tooth, a big, fat, sugar craving that could never be satiated, and everybody knew it. Steve was always on him about eating healthy, and treating food as fuel, though Bucky couldn’t care less. Under HYDRA, food wasn’t made to taste good, hell it was barely food at all most times, and there was certainly no dessert, Bucky felt that he was just making up for lost time. He often hid his snacks, so that he could escape a lecture from Steve, and so that other prying eyes wouldn’t help themselves. Though above all other treats, Bucky’s favorite was a good old fashioned, homemade chocolate cake. In his opinion, nothing compared to a perfectly moist inside, with icing that melts in your mouth, all fresh out of the oven. So, when Bucky finished his workout and came into the kitchen to grab a protein bar, and he smelled that famed dessert in the air, he couldn’t help but close his eyes and sniff.

There, on the counter top, was a chocolate cake, a tiny card beside it: ‘For James.’ His mouth dropped open.  

“Oo, I smell cake!” Tony sang as he rounded the corner, rubbing his hands together.  

“I’ll get the plates,” Sam added, running to the cabinet.  

“What’s all the commotion about?” Steve asked, looking around until his eyes fell on the current situation, sitting innocently on the counter. Of course, everyone would congregate with such convenient timing, Bucky thought.

“Buck, that’s not a good post-workout meal,” he sighed, Steve’s best ‘disappointed dad’ expression on his face.

Bucky looked around the room with wide eyes, all of them closing in with one, shared goal in mind: They were going to take his cake. Someone had gone to the effort of baking him a cake, timing it so it was still warm once he finished his workout, and my God he was going to enjoy every last bite. Bucky would kill them before he shared. In an instant, he grabbed the cake, made a mad dash for the elevator, before anyone could grasp what had happened. Bucky had downed the whole thing before the elevator doors opened to his floor.

February 12th - Being present

Ever since he had taken his mind back from HYDRA, Bucky had been working on himself. It was a fulltime job, and progress was not always linear. He had begun seeing a therapist who helped him sort through all the painful memories, building his confidence back up, and learning how to cope with his trauma. Steve reminded Bucky of who he was, and more importantly, helped him explore who Bucky had become. Everyone at the compound was more than happy to assist in the ways that they could, and even just having so many people around who cared about him was healing.  

But even now, he still had bad days, times where he was absolutely haunted by what he had done and what had been done to him. Sometimes he would wake up in the middle of the night, throat raw, drenched in sweat. Sometimes it would be a sound, a word, a trigger, causing an associated memory to take over. Other times he wasn’t even sure what it was, to pinpoint what had set him off, though he supposed he didn’t always need a reason, sometimes, it was just a bad day.  

Steve had been his go-to, always getting him through those moments, staying up and chatting when he couldn’t sleep, grounding him when he retreated into his mind, but tonight, Steve wasn’t here. It was a particularly bad one, the kind that left him shaking in his skin, one where Bucky couldn’t stand to stay still afterwards. He ventured out into the living room, flicking the TV on, more for the noise than the content. Bucky settled into the couch, letting his head roll back, taking a deep breath as he tried to remember some strategies his therapist has taught him.  

I can see the grey ceiling.

I can smell the leather couch.

I can hear footsteps.

Footsteps?

Bucky turned his head, looking for the source of noise when he saw (Y/N) stumbling across the hardwood floor, yawning as she went to the kitchen. Rummaging around the pantry, clearly unsure of what she wanted, (Y/N) stopped and turned her head to see Bucky’s slate blue eyes peering out from behind the top of the couch.  

“What are you doing, Bucky?” She drawled, slow steps bringing her towards the living room, a box of crackers in hand.  

“Can’t sleep,” he shrugged.

“What are we watching?”  

“Dunno.” Bucky handed her the remote as she plopped down beside him, scrolling through some options before deciding on a buddy cop film.  

They stayed in silence for a while, partially watching the movie, partially spacing out in their sleep deprived state, the only sound was the crunch of crackers in her mouth. (Y/N)’s presence was nice, he had always felt that way, especially once he had gotten to know her better. Professionally, she was serious, calculated, and a bit sarcastic, but when the uniform came off, (Y/N) turned into a bit of a goofball. It was endearing to see her like this, barely able to stay awake, head leaning dangerously to the side, when he had the image of her killing people with her bare hands in the field to contrast it with. Abruptly, she shook her head, blinking, once, twice, and then sitting back.  

“Do you wanna talk about it?” She kept her gaze forward, her words even, and tone easy, an effort to keep it casual.  

“No,” Bucky appreciated her concern, but it was too hard to think about his dreams again when he was getting his bearings back in the conscious world.  

“Okay,” (Y/N) gave him a small smile, eyes starting to droop again, her head falling back against the couch, and Bucky knew she wouldn’t last much longer.

“Hey, you don’t have to stay,” he mumbled, her eyelids fluttering open.  

“Do you want me to go?”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then I'll stay.”

February 13th – Cover me

Bucky awoke with a start, a bolt of energy zipping through him as he sat up in bed. No nightmare, no dream at all, so why the rush? His eyes drifted over to the cellphone charging on his night table, and it hit him.  

10:14am

Shit. The briefing started already.  

“Shit, shit, shit, fuck” Bucky hissed, jumping up from his bed, pulling on the first pair of pants he found. He shoved a hoodie over his head, slipped some shoes on, and he was out the door.  

Bucky scooted down the hallway and into the elevator, pulling his hair back and tying it back with an elastic that lived on his wrist for times like this. His foot tapped impatiently as it went through each of the floors before the doors opened at his destination. Once he found the closed door of the conference room, Bucky took a deep breath before pushing it open, ready to take the heat from Fury and the team for being so late, but when he stepped inside that wasn’t the response they gave him.  

“Oh, Barnes, didn’t expect to see you this morning.” Fury eyed him, and Bucky wasn’t sure if he was testing him or not.  

“Why not?” Bucky dared to ask.  

“(Y/N) said you were needed for emergency maintenance on your arm, some sort of mechanical malfunction.”

Bucky’s head whipped over to see her giving him a sheepish smile and the pieces came together. Oh, she had covered for him.  

“Yes...yeah, exactly. Uh, it was a quick fix, luckily,” Bucky nodded, opening and closing his fist for show.  

“Well, glad you could join us,” Fury concluded, looking back to everyone who was seated at the conference table.  

Bucky’s eyes fell back onto (Y/N) who now had a focused gaze to the front of the room, her cheeks a distant shade of pink, and he couldn’t help but notice that the seat next to her a was free, a file sitting on it. Bucky made his way over, and her head snapped up to look at him, hands grabbing the file and motioning for him to sit down. Bucky gave her a warm grin, sitting himself beside her, the folder addressed to him placed on the table, all of the briefing materials inside. She seemed to be doing her very best at ignoring his presence, leaning forwards on her arms, looking down the pages, and back up at Fury, her head staying completely parallel to Bucky’s and he had to wonder what all that was about.  

(Y/N) was a friend, even more so than some of the others, during these meetings they would often share knowing looks when Steve accidentally said something that had another meaning, which was quite often honestly. Once, they had even resorted to writing notes when Fury was reaming their asses for a careless mistake which had a turned the mission upside down. Regardless, Bucky was becoming antsy as the briefing was dry, and (Y/N) wasn’t giving him any attention.  

“Hey, (Y/N),” Bucky whispered, but she was steadfast in her goal to be a good girl.  

“(Y/N).” Still nothing.  

Bucky stuck out one vibranium finger and jabbed it in between her ribs, which caused the woman to let out a sharp hiss, squinted eyes looking over to find a smug grin on his face.  

“What?” (Y/N) quipped.  

“Hi.”

“Oh, for fuck-.”

“(Y/N), do you have something to add to the matter at hand?” Fury cocked a brow at the young woman, clearly asking a rhetorical question. She froze in her spot, resorting to a simple headshake to indicate her answer, before ducking to look at her papers again.  

Bucky felt bad, he really did, but he also couldn’t help but chuckle at her small misfortune. Fury liked her, in a day he would forget all about this little mishap and she would be back in his good graces, Bucky had no doubts about that. He watched her, the way she twiddled with her pen, chewing nervously on her lip, her eyes darting to catch his gaze before flipping back to Fury. Bucky reached his hand out, placing it on her thigh, thumb rubbing circles over the smooth fabric, her wide eyes questioning his actions as he mouthed ‘Sorry’. He hadn’t meant to get her so worked up, though unbeknownst to him, when it was Bucky, it didn’t take much.  

The meeting was adjourned and everyone rushed to get out. It’s not that they didn’t love their job, Bucky included, but getting down to brass tacks was never anyone's favorite part. Even goody two shoes Steve Rogers could be seen spacing out near the end of it, doodling on the back of his folder, much to Fury’s disapproval. Typically, Bucky would become restless fidgety after sitting for so long and take a trip down to the gym, but today his need to speak with a certain someone, was far more alluring. He swiveled his chair around only to find that his certain someone had disappeared. Bucky stood from his chair, finding that in his state of carelessness, everyone had left the room, his feet nearly tripping over each other as he bolted to find her.  

Thankfully (Y/N) wasn’t far, as he rounded the corner to the kitchen, Bucky could hear her sweet laughter ringing out, mingling with a low chuckle, her form coming into his vision along with Steve and Sam. Steve saw him and nodded, the other two turning their attention to him as well, Bucky waltzing to the fridge as if he had come in for something.  

“Hey, tin can. I was just telling (Y/N) about your secret admirer,” Sam snickered. Steve shot him a warning glance, but (Y/N)’s face dropped, her mouth clamped right up, eyes dropping to the floor.  

“Secret admirer?” Bucky questioned, closing the fridge, a bottle of Gatorade in hand.  

“Don’t play dumb!” Sam scoffed.  

“I don’t have a secret admirer,” Bucky stated, his free hand closing into a fist, and (Y/N) winced. Steve’s eyes traveled between the three of them, taking in their words and their reactions, his heartbeat raising as he began to piece the puzzle together.  

“Oh, so then how do you explain the flowers, and the cake?”

“Sam,” Steve started.  

“What?” Sam retorted.

“Just stop it!” Bucky growled, his slate blue eyes trained on (Y/N)’s pained expression, jumping at his harsh tone. The room went silent, Sam’s mouth hanging open, Steve’s brow knit together in worry, and Bucky breathing hard. Her eyes darted around, fingers pulling together, as she dashed out of the room, leaving the three at a loss for words.  

“(Y/N),” Bucky went to follow her, but Steve stopped him, giving him a knowing look.  

“Buck, I gotta tell you something.”

February 14th – In a different language

It was the day, Valentine’s day, the Hallmark holiday where one had to show their undying love and affection by purchasing halfdead flowers, and overpriced chocolates. Bucky felt like an idiot standing in that flower shop, surrounded by people, all buying the same, damn thing, all because they were told to. The man in front of him was barking on his cellphone about how it was such a pain, and how roses would most certainly be marked up for today, but if he didn’t get her flowers then he’d be left in the doghouse tonight. Bucky sucked his teeth at that comment, feeling sorry for the poor woman who would be receiving those roses later today, but could he really think of himself as better? Wasn’t Bucky about to do the same thing as everyone else here?  

“Next!” The attendant called, pulling Bucky’s attention.  

“Hi, I want to get something really special,” Bucky’s eyes pleaded, hoping that she would understand what he meant, the importance that this bundle of flowers would be carrying. “She deserves more than just roses.”

“Certainly,” she beamed back at him. “Let’s start with her name.”

“It’s (Y/N).”

“Alright, tell me about (Y/N).”

“Well, I could write a book,” Bucky chuckled, pushing some loose strands of hair back. “But I'll start with the basics. She’s beautiful, really beautiful, inside and out, and she’s always helping me, even when I don’t ask. She’s fierce, intelligent, damn good at her job, and a force to be reckoned with, but the worst part is, I'm just realizing all of this now.”

“Hmm,” the attendant quirked her brow, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose as she took in his words. “Ah! I’ve got it.”

She brought out a bouquet of flowers, a kind Bucky had never seen before, and she explained all of the different meanings to him, wrapped it up, and sent him on his way. Bucky was smiling ear to ear, despite the chilled weather and the falling snow, as his heart had never felt warmer, the conversation with Steve from the night before ringing in his ears.  

“What’s going on?” Bucky questioned. Steve had led him to his room, closing the door behind him, pacing around as if he was about to tell Bucky that he had been diagnosed with cancer. Steve stopped in his tracks and just stared at him.

“It’s (Y/N).” Steve answered.

“What’s (Y/N)?”

“Your secret admirer.” Bucky’s slate blue eyes widened as he took in Steve’s words, as incredulous as they were.  

“No, she’s not.” Bucky stated.  

Steve sighed, hands pulling across his face in frustration. “Yes, she is!”

“How do you know?”

“Buck, whatever just happened in the kitchen told me everything!”

“What do you mean?” Bucky mumbled, almost afraid of the answer.  

“When Sam told her about the secret admirer and you turned it down, she looked devastated. Now, why would that be?” Steve crossed his arms, waiting for the realization to set in. Bucky chewed his bottom lip, thinking of what had just transpired in the kitchen, the way her face had dropped at Bucky’s dismissal.

“It was her,” Bucky breathed.  

“Thank you,” Steve sighed, his head rolling back.  

“And I rejected her,” Bucky’s hand moved to comb through his hair, anxiety setting in.  

“Did you mean to?” Steve watched his friend's expression, still unsure of what Bucky wanted out of all of this.  

“No, God no! She’s amazing, she’s incredible, I just didn’t, I mean, I didn’t know that-.”

“You didn’t know it was her.”  

“Yeah.”

The compound was surprisingly quiet, though Bucky supposed that everyone was out spending their time with someone they loved, the silence only wrenching his heart further. Bucky worried that he had messed everything up, that (Y/N) thought Bucky didn’t want her, the pained expression, the creases on her forehead, the hurt in her eyes all came back as he squeezed the stems in his hand. No, he would apologize, make it right, and if she would have him, then he would gladly be hers. Bucky felt so blind, how he hadn’t seen it before, how he hadn’t seen her before; He always knew she was extraordinary, but it never crossed his mind that she would want him like that, that anyone would. It was his own self-conscious thoughts, constantly bearing down, reminding him of his past, of his altered and broken body, his bent and twisted mind, not (Y/N). No, she had never seen him that way.  

Bucky decided to freshen up in his room before asking FRIDAY where (Y/N) was, needing another minute to get his thoughts all in order before he could face her, but when he arrived, she was sitting on his bed. Opening the door, her head shot up to look at him, eyes wide, fingers twisting together on her lap, and Bucky nearly dropped the flowers. She launched herself up, clearing her throat, eyes falling back to the floor as she spoke.  

“Bucky, hi.”

“(Y/N), what are you doing here?” He questioned, stepping forward, placing the flowers down as he shrugged his heavy jacket off.  

“Um, I-I'm here to apologize to you,” she breathed, fingers running along her arm.  

“What for?”  

“F-for the gifts. It wasn’t fair of me to make it so public, I should’ve just done it in private so I wouldn’t have embarrassed you.”

“(Y/N)-.”

“Please, just let me say this and I'll be out of your hair,” she pleaded, eyes full of remorse that Bucky just couldn’t say no to her. He nodded, not trusting his voice.  

“Bucky, you’re an amazing friend. Whenever I'm around you, my heart feels full, like everything is going to be okay. I don’t know when, but somewhere along the way I fell in love with you. I know it’s difficult in our line of work to navigate workplace relationships, and it was so hard to get a read on your feelings so I decided to keep it to myself, but eventually I couldn’t stay quiet anymore. I had to know, even if you didn’t feel the same, but I've humiliated you, and for that, I'm so sorry.”

Her voice was barely above a whisper at the end, tears coming to her eyes that were cast down to the floor.

“Is it my turn now?” Bucky asked tentatively. She nodded. He took the bouquet from the bed, peeling back the paper to reveal the flowers inside.  

“I don’t know much about flowers, but these are carnations, and like roses, the different colors have different meanings,” his eyes were on her, taking in the change in her expression from sadness, to confusion, to hope.  

“The white means, ‘Sweet and lovely,’ which although I know you’re much more than that, it certainly captures the way I’ve come to think of you. The pink means, ‘I’ll never forget you,’ because no matter what happens, I wouldn’t, I couldn’t. And the red, um, apparently, they mean, ‘My heart aches for you,” Bucky cleared his throat at the confession.  

“Bucky, I thought,” she trailed off, fingers delicately grazing the edges of a crimson carnation.  

“I know,” Bucky sighed. “I know I messed up, but you have to believe me when I say I had no idea it was you,” his words were rushed, wanting to get it all out so she would understand.  

“And well, um, I didn’t actually realize that I felt this way until I knew that you did.” He bowed his head, checks filling with heat.  

“Thank you,” (Y/N) whispered, her hands cupping his jaw. Bucky sighed, leaning into her touch, his whole body relaxing into her. “No one’s ever bought me flowers before.”

“Really?” Bucky asked in disbelief.

“Our business doesn’t leave much time,” (Y/N) gave him a solemn smile.

“I’ll buy you as many flowers as you want,” he deadpanned, pushing the bouquet into her hands, causing a giggle to erupt from her chest.

“Oh sweetheart, it’s okay,” she cooed.  

“I’m serious,” Bucky pleaded. “And I'll find out what they all mean too, so I don’t give you any that say something rude.”

“Bucky.” He quirked his head. “I just want you.”

“You have me.”

Bucky let out a shaky exhale, a hand coming to rest on her hip, pulling her closer, his flesh hand holding her cheek, guiding her face to his. His actions were slow, almost hesitant, giving her plenty of time to pull away, but she melted into him, eyelids fluttering closed as their lips touched. It was sweet and innocent, gentle and nervous, the room gone completely silent, but soon the flowers were forgotten, hands, lips, and tongues making up for lost time as the air thickened. When a rough nip to her bottom lip let out a breathy moan, he finally pulled back, taking her in, the way her chest rose and fell, the distant look in her eyes, the heat coursing through his own body at the sight. (Y/N)’s head rolled to the side, eyes widening when she realized the poor bouquet had been dropped to the floor in the heat of the moment.  

“I’m sorry, Bucky!” (Y/N) scrambled to recover the flowers, smoothing the petals over with her fingers.  

“I’ll buy you more,” he shrugged.  

“That’s not the point.”

“What do you mean?”  

“This is my first bouquet,” she remarked. “I’m going to save it.”

Bucky’s lips curled up into a splitting grin, leaning forward to press a tender kiss to her cheek as she fretted over the slightly jumbled flowers. His hands covered hers, slowly pulling the bouquet from her as she watched him, perplexed when he placed it onto the bed once more.  

“Plenty of time for that later,” Bucky mumbled, guiding her into another sweet kiss, savoring just what he had been missing.  

[theorynexus]

We now reach number 43, which is perhaps my favorite amongst the numbers between 10 and 100.

Additionally, we now enter the second ten in the Meat epilogue, placing us about 23 pages into the epilogue, generally. This seems like it might have some gravity to it. Some points of clarification before we proceed:  I do technically have some ideas where the wallet might have come from, but there are simply too many possibilities to be certain.  The potential contents of the wallet could be incredibly interesting considering said particular modus seems capable of handling items of any size, and it is very much possible to captchalogue living beings; thus any number of living beings/ghosts could actually be awaiting inside.   ... Oh, and I do in fact remember that John and Roxy have been to the white realm beyond Paradox Space before, during the retcanon adventure they had together.  You should take my apparent incapacity to do so at the time as a joke relating to Roxy being with John, and the nature of Void.  (I wonder if John’s journey around the black hole is in any way similar in a visual manner to his fly through the incipisphere following [S] Game Over. ‘s events, but before the Retcon~   [Also: Heh. John finding Dirk staring at a broken statue of Yaldabaoth at that point is somewhat amusing in light of recent events of various sorts])

(Very interesting because the Void is also accompanied by a blinding Light, and one might call it the Realm of Light, to some extent, particularly since this is suggested to be where fireflies came from, and they are most certainly Hope+Light aligned [with a dash of Heart on the side, perhaps].) ~~~ (Back to current events.)

Very, very interesting. The similarities with the situation regarding Dream Selves don’t cease to continue being things which are true. Very nice to hear the word from a Space player that the voidy area apparently is no longer The Furthest Ring, if it ever could have technically fit that description in the first place, beyond being more along the lines of “that which the Furthest Ring was overlayed upon a la Photoshop layers”.

This is particularly striking, considering how Jade was when she was first introduced. If anyone could retain such dream-like memories (other than Dirk, I mean), it would be her~

That last part is... odd, and worrying.  I wonder why it might do so.  Probably, it’s related to some extent to her nature as a First Guardian (or someone who at least has the traits of one). On the other hand, that responsibility notion is quite curious. I wonder if this is misplaced guilt only, or what it might otherwise be. It wasn’t this version of her that had the conversations with Calliope before meeting Alt!Calliope, after all, and there should really be no reason for her to otherwise think she’s responsible in some way for the situation with regards to the Green Sun, otherwise. Buuut I guess she maybe doesn’t know that?  Hmm. (On a random note:  This is giving me [S] Game Over.!Terezi vibes, regarding the drawn-out nature of the theoretical death that may be destined to her, assuming there is not some sort of divine intervention [Hah hah~].)

OH!  It actually is stuck there, instead of having passed right through her!   This really does present an interesting situation. It would seem that the shard has been hyper-saturated with Time due to LE’s interference, which, assuming that the Green Sun Black Hole is a highly time-involved/symbolic/-related object as I have previously posited, might very much help to explain the logistics of reality pulling apart along the hole+cracks that Lord English drew out on the Furthest Ring’s face.    Objects and/or persons imbued with large amounts of Time (relative to their natural state), such as Ghosts and the charged shards such as the one which Jade is now in possession of might be attracted to the Black Hole for reasons beyond its massive gravity well.        This would explain why Lord English’s eventual fate was specifically to be drawn in by the Black Hole and either killed directly by it, or by the lengthened (dilated?) exposure to Caledfwlch whilst being “taken care of” by its effects (specifically, this would explain why it was capable of accomplishing this not only in relation to his supreme immortality, but also his own constant, forceful [yet almost passive] manipulation of the meta timelines in his favor).

Also, quite obviously, the temporal charge does not completely eliminate the spatial aspect that in part defines such a construct. “ But what was that dream? It was significant, she’s knows that much. “  Rose might disagree, based on a technicality. :P

That loss of urgency does indeed make sense, given the circumstances.  Additionally:  Woo!~   Jade **does** indeed remember/connect with those dream-like memories as I suggested she was one most likely to do! (I wonder if she’s unmoored in more ways than one.)

Indeed, her being unable to look away makes sense. That is something a creature greatly weakened by the sort of wounds that she has sustained might be unable to do, in the face of psychic suggestion. The obvious choice/source for the voice would be Alt!Calliope, as the splash of red text below might support.  Initially, I thought Dave, I will admit, which is mostly as a result of the fact that their typing style is so very similar; however, Dave does not use periods for some reason or another, proving that that was not the case, even before “cherub” is mentioned by the Narrator, which I briefly saw after looking at the text again, following an attempt to reorient after a scroll-down for more visible words/better centering. Also:  AAAHHHH, Jade losing her Ruby Slippers is ominous as heck! D:

Haaaahhh.  This Narrator makes it seem like we’re in danger if we dally too long. Perhaps we would succumb to the tug of the Grim Reaper’s words.  All that I previously relayed concerning this Jade’s lack of context is made explicit here. (Very interesting, the lack of communication going on, despite the tug being felt and the seeming connection between them. HmmM~)

[vitaminhosh]

prince!seungcheol

anon requested: “prince cheol i will lvoe u forever”

pairing: seungcheol x reader

under the cut bc it’s ridiculously long

oH boy i am so ready for this au

one of the most charming and endearing princes out there??

there isn’t anyone one within a 100-mile radius that dislikes seungcheol like..... have you met him

and anyone who does kind of feel some sort of dislike towards him

they see him smile and oops

how did I not like him before?? he’s an angel??

he is genuinely hard working and kind hearted though, he works very hard to make the lives of his people better

when he was younger and wasn’t allowed to go out he would have to learn about the kingdom’s history and,, all the war and bloodshed absolutely broke his heart

he swore that when he was older he would never allow something like this to happen again

when he was finally allowed to go out and saw some of the people struggling to just make do, he was determined to make a change

nowadays he makes it his mission to go out and meet everybody and see how they’re doing as often as his busy schedule allows

he’ll have lunch in the town and chat with the people, anyone who saw from the outside wouldn’t even suspect that he was royalty and just think that it was a table of old friends

plus his absolute favorite meal of all time is in this small shop tucked away in one of the small streets in the heart of town, and it was,,, a burger

sure the food in the palace was obviously amazing with top chefs cooking there and all but,, nothing really beats the burger made in this small shop that people barely even knew about

we all know seungcheol will be a well-dressed prince 

like,, he won’t want to be super over the top in full on capes and stuff but,, he sure as hell isn’t just walking around town in sweatpants or something

he cares about his image okay

(even though everyone will swoon even if he were to go out in sweatpants and a hoodie)

everyone in his kingdom is basically in love with him

as are the people in neighboring kingdoms 

and far away kingdoms

the other princes are jealous

have you seen his smile though? it can cure diseases

he takes his responsibilities very seriously, but obviously, he’s still a young man who likes to have fun and gets bored too

he doesn’t like to sit still, so when he’s finished with all of his duties he’ll be off to go do something

even at odd times at the night, you can find him in a nearby kingdom trying to find this specific comic book or something

people don’t find it weird anymore

“oh look prince seungcheol is here again did you want more of these sweets?”

he’s often seen hanging out with the other princes when he can

the people die when they see their princes hanging out together

has public social media accounts but also secret personal ones

spams the group chat full of princes,, just because he can

ok enough background stuff onto you and cheol

you work in one of those small tucked away shops that prince seungcheol likes to frequent

however you’re not from this kingdom, and you only work the night shift so it’s not like you know a lot of people or much about this kingdom

you’re just taking this job to try and make some cash while you’re away from home traveling, you happened to choose to stay here indefinitely

you’re not entirely sure who this strangely good-looking man is who only comes in at 3am every week is but ?? business is business plus you’re not gonna judge,, it’s not like you’ve never had cravings for junk food in the middle of the night too

since it’s late at night cheol is dressed in very casual clothes so nothing really gives away the fact that he’s actually the goddamn prince of this kingdom

since he comes so often plus he just likes to get to know people he makes small talk while you gather up his stuff

after a couple of weeks, you soon become kinda like friends ?? it’s a weird circumstance but hell it’s 3am nobody’s really functioning well enough to question this

 you’re sitting at the counter on your phone when the bell on the door rings signalling another customer

you just know it’s him again cause,,, not many people would be here at this ungodly time of night so you don’t bother looking up

you stop scrolling through instagram when you hear tutting in front of you

“I should complain to your manager you know- I’d rate this customer service a 1/10″

seungcheol watched as you finally looked up and chuckled at him

“sorry old man..... how can I help you, your highness”

seungcheol froze- did you finally find out who he was?

the reason he was so interested in you was because you didn’t seem to know who he was, and treated him like a normal person

his mind was going 100 miles a minute until you suddenly snorted

“god imagine it,, you ?? a king ?? pfft”

he smirked once he realized he wasn’t busted

“what do you have against me being a king huh?”

“idk man what kinda king buys junk food like three times a week at 3am,, plus ur a dork”

“wow,,, is that all i am to you,,,,,, a dork,,,, im hurt”

you smack his arm before starting to scan the things he’s put down on the counter

“how do you eat all this and stay in shape... tell me your secrets”

“god given metabolism sorry sweaty you can’t buy this :-)”

you snorted once again as you begin to pack his things into a paper bag

“did god accidentally spill all the ego into you as well”

“well i mean to help god out i do go workout too feel free to join me if you’re not too unfit to keep up”

“uhhh excuse me who are you calling unfit..... give me a time and place and I’ll fight beat you in a race”

“fine when do you get off tomorrow I’ll walk you to the hill and see who can get to the top first”

and that’s how you ended up at the bottom of a hill at 5am with a man you’ve never seen outside the shop

“whoever wins gets treated to breakfast”

“wipe that smirk off your face seungcheol I’m not getting beat by you”

surprise surprise,,,,, you lost

unfortunately he was much faster than you thought he would be

you were both lying on the grass, panting from running up a sizable hill 

you punched his arm

seungcheol sat up, mouth open as he was about to whine when a voice came from the bottle of the hill

“your highness! there you are! you were supposed to return an hour ago you father will find out you’ve been out!”

seungcheol’s eyes widened before cursing under his breath

“I gotta go but you still owe me breakfast okay I’ll explain everything tonight ok bye !!”

you just sat there in shock as seungcheol dashed down the hill, even faster than before as the worker followed behind him

“y-your highness?”

you had flashbacks to seungcheol smirking when you laughed at the idea of him being king

you make your way back home, with a permanent blush on your cheeks and a million thoughts in your head

how could you not know that he was the prince?

oh god you’ve been smacking the prince for weeks when he makes a stupid dad joke

you can’t sleep that day and when you’re back in the shop you’re barely conscious

you’re too tired to even think about seungcheol saying he would explain tonight

when seungcheol comes in and makes his way over to the counter, he expects to find you on your phone again but instead sees you asleep on the counter

he smiles softly before grabbing an old receipt and a pen and writing a note

“sleeping on the job? strike two y/n. I really should complain to your manager, guess I was just too fast for you ;). I’ll be back tomorrow, get some rest. p.s. you might want to wash that hoodie, you drooled a little bit”

you woke up with a panic when your phone chimed at 5am, reminding you it was time to close up

oh god seungcheol was supposed to come

after you finally orientate yourself you notice the note on the table

after reading the note you flush red again

oh god you were asleep in front of the cute prince and d r o o l e d

you stumbled home after closing up and immediately went to sleep

later that day you rushed to the shop, almost late since you were so tired you slept through your alarm

as 2 am came around the bell on the door rang and you sat up straight

seungcheol didn’t usually come till around 3 so you assumed this was an actual customer

"I hope you washed that hoodie before coming back here tonight”

you looked down and noticed that you were in such a rush that you didn’t even change out of last night’s outfit

flushing pink, you quip back with a “so what if I didn’t huh”

seungcheol finally appears from around the shelf

“its a bit gross i gotta say”

“not as gross as you”

seungcheol looked at you with a soft smile on his face, trying to get the words in his head to form coherent sentences

“im sorry”

you looked at him with a blank face

“what for ?? i mean i know its kinda gross but like i was gonna be late for work and-”

“no, I’m sorry for not telling you”

you sat there with your mouth half open and closed it before looking down at your hands that were on the counter

“it’s okay”

he took your hands in his, making you look up

“it’s not, I shouldn’t have kept it from you. I’ve just never had someone treat me like everyone else and it was... refreshing. But you deserved to know, I was being selfish. I’m sorry”

you gave seungcheol a soft smile, giving his hands a soft pat as he looked down at his feet to try and get his attention

“seungcheol really, it’s fine. I understand why you did it, I’m not mad”

“I still feel bad, it wasn’t right. You should be mad”

“well I mean I am....”

seungcheol looked up, ready to apologize again

“but only cause you beat me in a race,,,,, outrageous”

you smack him again, trying to lighten the mood

“but a deal is a deal, and I still owe you breakfast”

seungcheol started giggling, and you swear your heart skipped a beat

“im trying to be serious here and all you care about is getting beat”

“cheol, i really don’t mind. plus, I’m a woman of my word, I can’t have you owe me, that’s ridiculous”

“I’m busy later, how about you just treat me to a late night snack here instead”

fast forward to a couple weeks later, and you’re back at that hill waiting for seungcheol to come so that he can introduce you to his prince friends as you have a couple of days off

you can actually hear them before you see them 

who’s even surprised at this point it’s seungcheol + 12 rowdy boys

“guys please don’t be embarrassin- oH hi y/n you’re early hahaha”

“hi I’m jeonghan are you cheol’s girlfrien-”

seungcheol shoved the guy out of the way before he could finish his sentence

“sorry,,, my friends are idiots”

you chuckled as seungcheol sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, a light pink dusting his cheeks

“don’t worry, I like them”

“wE LIKE YOU TOO Y/N”

you giggled before heading over to the group of guys to go meet them properly

seungcheol stood still for a second, watching you introduce yourself to his friends a couple feet away

jeonghan came up to him, watching you with him

“when are you gonna ask her out, I thought you were going to the other day when you guys hung out at her place”

“she was tired so I let her sleep, some other time jeonghan”

they headed back to the group and you turned to them as you noticed the two join the circle

“cheol !! is it true that you tripped over a log and fell into the lake while trying to impress a girl when you were 6? i knew you were a dork but I didn’t think it was that bad”

“wHAT ARE YOU GUYS TELLING HER”

as the day began to end and everyone had to head back, seungcheol insisted on walking you back to your apartment

you had refused at first, but you were tired and it was late

when you got to your place you turned to seungcheol, about to thank him for walking you back when you saw him looking nervous

“cheol, are you okay? what’s wrong?”

“nothing,, I just,, y/n would you want- I mean- do you,, uh,,,, will you,, go out with me?”

you could barely hear him as he was mumbling but you just managed to catch his words

you put your hand on his cheek and pressed a quick kiss onto his other cheek

“of course seungcheol, it’d be an honor”

you smiled and said goodnight before heading inside

seungcheol stood there, frozen in shock as you had not only agreed but ???? you kissed his cheek ?????

you began to get ready for bed, a smile and a light blush on your face

you can’t believe you’re dating the biggest dork on the planet

seungcheol, on the other hand, was shouting at jeonghan down the phone; he practically skipping home

a/n: this is,,,,,, the longest thing ever im so sorry i got excited about this au

[rogueimagination]

Skylines & Teacups Part Five

part one / part two / part three / part four / part six / part seven / part eight /

Pairing: You x Suga

Summary: It was a quiet lonely night at a cafe right outside of the city when a mysterious looking man approached you. There blossomed something you never expected in your wildest dreams - not after everything you’ve been through.

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 4405

Warnings: strong language, sexual harassment, 

Author’s Note: I normally do a mixture of fluff and angst in everything I write but... this chapter is 100% angst. i can’t deny it. I hope you like it! Thank you for reading :)

You rapidly ran over to your hysterical best friend calling her name. With no response from her, you bent down in front of her and wrapped your arms around her. The second you fully embrace her, she harshly pushed you off. "Sojung? What's wrong? What happened?" You pleaded with her. She mumbled something incoherent in between sobs and you shook your head in distress. "Sojung..."

"Go away Y/N" Her words were sharp and malicious but you weren't easily swayed by that anymore. "Sojung, please tell me what's wrong?" As you spoke you noticed her clenching onto something underneath her fetal position. "What are you holding?" You said sternly, reaching for it.

She pulled away so hastily that you fell over onto your back. "Please tell me what's wrong. I want to help. What happened?" You sat on the floor next to her feeling conflicted and useless. "Get the fuck away from me Y/N." Sojung spat as she stood up, mascara streaks and all. The words stung and shot you down so hard that you were stuck in place. Sojung hurried out with a slam of the door. The slam left an echo throughout the space she left in the room and the one in your heart.

The two of you just promised not to get mad at each other anymore so you decided that you had to run after her. You opened the front door and found her pacing a few steps in front of it while wiping her tears. "Sojung, please talk to me..." You began to say but she shot a fury of looks at you then snapped,"Don't you dare come at me with that bitchy voice of yours. Just get the fuck away from me and crawl inside of your cave like you always do."

Your jaw dropped along with your heart. Sojung quickly turned around so you stared at her back as her words sank in. "What the hell Sojung." You snapped back, turned around, then slammed the door. You stared crying the second the door closed and you ran into "your cave" just like she wanted. Sojung's words burned in your brain and the feeling was devastating.

You wish you weren't left to overthink everything, but you were. From you exposing so much to Mystery Man and to Sojung's harsh words, you're brain was over analyzing it all and it created a stronger distress. By the end of the night you were convinced that Mystery Man wasn't going to talk to you anymore and Sojung has despised you all along. Why did you have to tell all that to him? Why did you have to make Sojung hate you? Why did you always have mess up anything good in your life? Why were you such a mess? The words ran in your ears until exhaustion took over and the sound of your fading cries swept you off to sleep.

In the morning, now feeling numb from last night, you remembered how badly you needed to do laundry. You listened to the muffled television from the main room as you piled up all your dirty clothes into two different bags. You always procrastinated the laundry until you were desperate and it finally came to that time. As you dragged the bags of dirty clothing out into the main room, the voices on the television became distinct. The announcers were discussing a special broadcast of Music Core. Your melancholic mood led you to show no interest but as you went to turn off the television something caught your attention. The broadcast was tonight and BTS was performing. That meant no Mystery Man tonight - if your assumption was correct. A crushing sadness encompassed you and your limp body found its way to the couch. Now here was nothing to look forward to after your job interview today.

Except, the job interview was exciting. You hadn't had a face to face interview since you've started to apply for different jobs as they had all reject you from the start. This one was just working at a convenience store but you were still enthusiastic about a possibly of having something. At the reminder of the interview, you decided to do the laundry at night and prepare for your job interview.

After taking your careful time getting ready, you stood in front of a mirror. This was the most effort you had put into your appearance since your life went to hell and you prayed it was worth it. The glass had smudges in random places that left parts of your appearance blurred. It was a hollow feeling to stare at yourself for so long but you were hypnotized by the small inkling of hope; the hope that this could all work out. You stared for so long that the the wisps of your hair were losing their luster and your brain came back to consciousness.

You dashed out the door, almost forgetting your bag, and sped your way to the store. Although your watch told you that you were early, you didn't want to risk it. This job held the beacon of hope in its hands and you wanted nothing more than for it to work out. When you arrived, the girl at the counter wasn't too pleased to see you. "He's waiting for you in the back" She said as she analyzed you then went back to scrolling on her phone. You noticed that her phone case had a variety of BTS stickers and it caused a short smile to expose itself on your face. "I like the stickers on your phone." you said as you skipped into the backroom. Without bothering to check for her response, you found the managers room and gave a simple knock on the door. "Come in" a voice called on the other side and you entered obediently.

There was a man behind the desk fixated on the laptop in front of him. You didn't think he noticed you come in but just as you were about to say something, he spoke "Sit down." so you obeyed. The room was a stale gray and held everything you expected in a typical office was there. Eventually, an uncomfortable smirk stretched across the managers face before closing the laptop and focusing on you. "I just finished reading your information and I have to say I've never been more captivated." He said, making your heart spark up. You wanted to thank him but he was quick to speak, "I normally don't bring people in my office, but I decided we can just do what you want now and move on with our lives. This is my families store, after all."

"Excuse me?" You asked, confused. He gave the same smirk as before but this time it left your skin feel like a million ants were crawling inside of your skin. "You follow your facade very well, just as your description said. The innocence is a turn on for many men, such as myself." His words turned you stone cold. He moved around his desk and came up to you, letting his fingers shamelessly travel up your arm. You were a statue melded to your chair as his fingers went from your arm and up your legs. As they traveled farther up your legs, the blood returned to your arms and quickly reacted. You smacked his hand away angrily and glared up at him. "I don't understand what you're talking about. I'm here for a job at your store not as a prostitute."

"Playing hard to get? That was also said in your information..." He went for your hair but you shoved off his advanced and retreated from your chair. "I have no idea what you're talking about. What information?" You were astonished and folded your arms to display your seriousness. He scowled and opened up his laptop. "This is what you're last employer said about you." He turned the laptop to face you and you carefully read everything on the page. "I'm telling you this to save you time and money, she is known to get jobs, bribe her way to higher positions with sex only to sleep with the manager or CEO. Right after she's had her time with you, she'll quit and find another game. Her only goal is to sleep around. Hire her all you want."

Your mouth was drying up from hanging open so loosely and your skin was heating up from a deadly cocktail of embarrassment, disgust, and despair. "That's the reason I can't get a fucking job." You spat and turned to him but once you caught his eye, "He's lying" was all that escaped. You reached for the door to escape and barely had it open before it was slammed shut. "I'd believe him over you any day." He hissed against your skin. His breathe left your skin feeling unwelcome on your own body. "That's unfortunate. I'll be going home now." You shoved him over but he resisted. "Not until I've had my piece with you, because how can I reject?" He said with lustful eyes. He proceeded to grab a hold of your arm and with the other hand, sneak it around your chest, painfully clutching your breast. Rapidly, you swung your hand around to smack him hard on the face. The impact caused him to let go and step backwards. Sensing your limited time, you ran out of the room and out into the main store.

The tears were stronger than your ability to hold them back and you ran out without caring if anyone saw you. Your energy abandoned you so you weakly sat down on the curbside and buried your face in your hands. You sobbed endlessly , letting the cars pass by you and people awkwardly ignore you. You cried until you heard someone speak beside you, "I always knew my boss was an asshole but I didn't think he was ever like that to new hires." 

You turned to the voice to find the female employee from earlier. "Everyone's an asshole." You mumbled, wiping the tears. "Yeah, you're right. I don't think I've ever had a boss that wasn't." She said, sitting next to you, and you appreciated her way of trying to comfort you. "Me neither. I just found out that my last boss is telling everyone I try to sleep with everyone." You regretted it the second you said it. She probably wasn't sitting next to you to hear your life story but the emotion was overtaking you.

"Damn. Did he want to sleep with you but your rejected him?" She questioned. "Something like that..." Your voice faded away and she just simply nodded. "Life is shit but you have to make the best of it. Good Luck." She spoke as she stood up. "Thank you." You said sincerely and she nodded and walked back into the store. You stared at the passing cars vacantly until you remembered the laundry waiting for you at home. The clouds in the sky were colliding and  darkening to inform you that it was going to rain.

You dragged your feet back to Sojung's to find the place unbelievably cold and your clothes right where you left them. You wrapped your arms around both bags of clothes and waddled your way to the laundry mat. The walk was agony as the bags felt like they were holding every piece of clothing in the country. When the first few rain drops began to fall, you hurried your pace but it only made your arms ache more. Once you arrived, you dropped the bags and started filling up the machines with your clothes.

There were a few people scattered around but all were in a hurry to leave. You ignored their presence and watched the water and the soap drench your clothing with an array of colors. They spun around and around like it was painting a picture and your mind lost itself in the patterns but allowed debilitating thoughts possess your mind.

Thoughts were a nightmare. They creep in at their own accord and tease your nerves with insidious ideas like two villainous clowns mocking and attempting to drag you into despair. They were corrupting, haunting, and held you at their mercy.

An unknown amount of time passed and before you knew it, your clothes finished washing so you transferred them to the dryer. You sat in front of the laundry machine and against a wall directly in front of it. You pressed your hands against the vibrating dryer to feel its warmth. There was a single light over you and the only sound was of the distant rain outside and the movement of your clothing. Everyone else had left and no one had come. You guessed no one their laundry on a cold rainy night. Normally, you wouldn't either but you liked to get out of the house at night. It made you feel like you had a life outside of crying under your sheets. Eventually, you reached inside of your bag that laid next you and pulled out your cell phone and headphones. A notice that you had no signal popped up but you ignored it. There was no one to talk to anyways. You plugged in your headphones and played a calm song.

Looking out the window, you didn't watch or think anything. You just stared, mindlessly letting the music flow through your ears, the rain fall outside, and your clothes toss around. You were so lost in your state of disassociation that when you heard someone else's voice, you practically fell over in fright. A yelp left your mouth as your head went to the floor and your earbuds popped out. In high alert, you shot to look at who was there. A man clothed in all black was kneeling next to you, holding back a laugh. Mystery Man. "I'm sorry I scared you, Innocent Stranger." He spoke as he helped you sit up. "Wha.. what are you doing here?" The fear from earlier stole all your air and now you were desperately trying to claim it back.

 "You weren't at the cafe. Sojung told me that you were here." He sat in front of you on the floor as he spoke. "How did Sojung know I was here?" You hadn't seen her all day and the last time you did wasn't the best circumstance. "She said she saw all your laundry bags piled up as she left for work." He answered and you only responded with, "Oh...."

"Why weren't you at the cafe?" He asked, staring at you. You felt frantic. You weren't there because you thought he was Min Yoongi but this proved that you were wrong. "I... I.. I thought you weren't going to be there." You admitted, embarrassingly. "I always tell you when I'm not going to be there." He reminded but you shook your head. "Yeah, but I... well.. I thought I figured out your identity. It appears that I was wrong." You gave a small pout disappointed at yourself for your failure. "Who did you think I was?" He asked playfully. "Oh it doesn't matter.." you looked to the side to avoid his eyes. "It doesn't matter since you were wrong. Just tell me." He persisted. "It's silly..." You really didn't want to tell him but you knew he wasn't going to give up. "Please?" He pleaded with you.

You knew he was stubborn enough not to let it go, so you lied. "I.... I... I thought you were someone I went to school with." He raised an eyebrow in response. "Oh really?" He wasn't accepting your lie. "Yeah yeah and you said you were going to be gone... on... on facebook." You didn't believe your lie either but you had to go with it. "I thought you didn't have a facebook." He caught you. "I don't! Sojung does!" You quickly responded with. "Sojung is friends with him? Did you go to school with Sojung?" He was mocking your terrible ability to lie but you weren't going to give up that easily. You were stubborn too.

"No! Sojung knows... his wife." The words slipped out and you felt insanely idiotic. You began transferring your wet clothes to the dryer in your panic. "He has a wife? and you thought he was me? Do I seem like the type to have a wife right now?" Mystery Man was fighting back a laugh as he spoke and you wanted to run and hide. You desperately hoped he thought it was cute and not annoying. "..yeah." You muttered, admitting your defeat and starting the dryer. "I don't believe you Innocent Stranger, but okay." He pulled down the mask to reveal his nose and you finally laughed, pitying yourself.

The rain pounded against the roof and the smell seeped in from every corner. There was a mixture of detergent, rain, and playful laughs. Once the laughter died out, Mystery Man spoke again. "Is that the only reason you came?" He looked around the area observantly. "I came to do laundry, Mystery Man." You insisted, following where his eyes were looking. "Besides laundry, Sojung told me you would be upset." His eyes went to you so you looked back at the washing machine and grumbled, "At least she acknowledges that."

Conversations between the two of you made you want to reach for a cup of tea but the change of scenery left your hands empty. Instead of skylines you had foggy windows covered in rain drops and instead of tea you had rows and rows of machines. Although you loved the cafe, you enjoyed the change. It was like seeing something in a different perspective - Mystery Man in a new light.

"Why would you be upset? Did something happen, Innocent Stranger?" His voice turned concerned but you didn't want to expose any more of your hardships. "It doesn't matter...." You spoke faintly, continuing to avoid his eyes but then giving up. Once you made eye contact, you noticed how... soft he was. Then as he spoke, even his words were soft.

"If it matters to you then it matters to me.."

Those words encompassed you with an unimaginable feeling. His eyes were locked on you to show that he was sincere and your heart was loving every moment. Mystery Man obtained this new power since he came back from his week away and it was the power to get you to release everything that had been building up inside of you. You fell victim every time.

"Sojung was upset and I tried to get her to confide in me but she said some extremely hurtful things. I just wish she would talk to me. I tell her everything and yet she's silent. I want the most important people to share their struggles with me." You released and he nodded as a sign he was listening.

"Sojung might not want to burden you." The way he was looking away showed he was playing it off like he wasn't thinking too deeply into it, but you knew he was. You just knew. "Is that why you don't share with me? You don't want to burden me?" His eyes settled back on you and gave you an answer you expected, "I thought I was a mystery" but you weren't going to hear that. "I can't solve your mystery if you don't expose yourself." You spoke your prepared response. "You can't force things to happen." He spoke and looked down at the white tile that was more black than white. "I know, I have to let it happen naturally.... I just don't want to be a burden on her." Sensing he didn't want to discuss him, you brought it back to the main subject; Sojung.

"Innocent Stranger, you already have a world full of burdens." He said as he continued to observe the floor and your heart couldn't quite understand how to process his words so you just ignored them. "It's one when she doesn't talk to me. Here I am exposing myself all the time and I want those I care for to do the same. I want to know what's going on in her life.... and yours." You stared at him, hoping he would meet your gaze but he didn't.

"I'm Mystery Man." That was exactly what you expected to hear again and only made you upset. "Ugh, I'll take what I can get." You responded, frustrated. At your tone, he finally looked from the floor. "Fine." He said firmly. "You shouldn't settle for less." He took a deep breath, "Innocent Stranger, you are my burden."

"I don't want to be one on you." You spoke quietly, overwhelmed by his words. He shook his head. "But you are. I'm worried about you. If you are alright, happy, smiling. I want to be strong enough to be a strength in your life." The rain was calming down but still trickled down but the the space the rain took up in your ears was now replaced by your heartbeat. You knew his words were suppose to be comforting and anyone else would take that way. The problem was, you weren't everyone else.

"I.. I don't believe you.." You spoke, almost in a whisper, just as the dryer stopped. It was dead silent. The rain and the dryer no longer made their noise and all that was left was Mystery Man's confused expression. "It's the truth.." he said with a matching volume. You turned from him, feeling the emotion boil up in your eyes. You went for the dryer and immediately started taking out your clothing and putting them back into the bags they came here in. Mystery Man just stood behind you and you refused to look at him. You knew if you did, the tears might be released.

"No, you're refusing to tell the truth to me." You responded, angrily. You were practically throwing the clothing into the bag now. "Y/...Innocent Stranger.." You heard him speak softly behind the words getting muffled behind his mask.

"Stop." The words were boarding the line between upset and angry. Another word from him would decide where they end up. "I tell you all my truths and I get nothing from you. I don't know if I'm comfortable with this anymore..." You continued, looking into the dryer to find no more clothing. "What do you mean?" There it was. The words to make the decision.

You snapped around, facing him without anymore hesitation and growled, "This." You waved your arms around "I refuse to be out in the open while you continue to be closed." You picked up your clothing and started dragging them towards the door, pushing past him.

"I would tell you but..." He said breathlessly behind you, informing you that he was tagging along behind you - and it only angered you more so you stopped and snapped back around. Startled, Mystery Man stepped backwards. "But what? What could possibly stop you?"

He reached forward into the empty air but you walked backwards to increase the distance. "please, wait.." Mystery Man's voice was hallow and it was almost enough to make you rethink everything.. but it wasn't enough.

"No." you felt exhausted. "I thought.. I thought..." The anger was fading away leaving only the sadness. "I don't know what I thought." You shook your head and felt tears started to fumbled down your cheeks. "Mystery Man, all of this feels so one sided and it hurts. I don't want to be hurt anymore." Your voice was pleading for him to let you go.

Mystery Man walked forward to you. He stood so close to you and you could easily grab his hat and his mask and unveil his face and you believed he might even let you. Except you didn't. You held back with everything you had. Maybe he sensed what you were thinking, maybe he didn't but he wanted you to. "I won't hurt you, I won't let anyone hurt you." His voice was desperate as he grabbed forward onto your wrists, a move that only stroke fear in you. At one effort of yours to break lose, he let go and looked down at the ground, almost shamefully.

"You're hurting me right now. I trust everyone so easily and it always backfires." The words were hard to choke out through the increasing tears. You picked up your clothing and and sped out the door.

"Y/N, wait a minute." You heard Mystery Man shout out behind you. Outside, the air was stale and cold. Nothing was inviting and you felt an increased desire to escape. You dropped the bags again, feeling weak under his voice and the situation and uttered, "No. It was okay when we were both didn't know each other. Except, I'm no longer the stranger... but you still remain a mystery."

"That's not true-" Mystery Man started but you turned around and you interrupted, "You know where I live, who my best friend is, my past relationship, and who else knows what I told you the other night when I was drunk or maybe you already knew them.....  You know me but I know nothing of you.I'm leaving. I don't know who you are and I hate that you know who I am. You even know my name."

The space between the two of you was great as he stopped walking towards you and you stopped walking away. He was at a loss for words so you continued,  "Goodbye, Mystery Man. Please don't follow me. This isn't one of those scenes where I run away but I secretly want you to chase after me. Leave me be." You picked up your bags and started running to Sojung's to the best of your ability.

As you ran, you could faintly hear Mystery Man's voice saying "Please... don't go." in the distance. Against your better judgment, you turned your head to capture one last glimpse to find him still standing where you left him, head hung low, and his arms hanging loosely. What remained of the rain looked like shattered glass around him and before you could rethink your decision, you looked forward and ran faster. The way to Sojung's house was dull and lifeless. Normally when you could come home after spending time with Mystery Man, the sky would be shimmering and the happiness you felt caused the floor to become clouds. Tonight, the difference was obvious.

You broke his heart and the earth knew.

[luvbotclub]

— bubblegum pink. + finn bálor [1]

→ request: ― just a small thing I did!!

→ word count: 4,544

→ content warnings: FLUFFY!FINN. alcohol mention (and use). some swearing. shitty ending. I guess that’s it.

→ note: this is finally done. my suffering is goddamn over. but I’m really somehow proud of this so I hope you all like it! shoutout to some of my friends on Quotev who have seen my work and have complimented it. I’m trying to tackle on more of the wrestler’s head in here instead of the usual where I focus on the reader’s mind, so this may look 100% shitty but i tried ok :’) enough babbling, i really hope you enjoy this!!

→ tag list: @rxvolutionvries, @danbanks35, @trulydarcy

masterlist | post your feedback here

She walked into the sweaty place with the air bouncing off of her, like a halo was on the top of her messy head and every step she took with her stilettos were worth dying for. He’s the only sober one out of his group, as much as it sounded embarrassing to admit. He never really was the kind who got too wild in parties anyway.

The night after a Takeover is where all the stress and the adrenaline and the tension go with the wind. Where all victories were celebrated on the dancefloor and all the losses were coped in by downing tequila shots and being encouraged by strangers to order the strangest and most expensive drink there is in the bar. Honestly, Finn is still unaware why he’s here in the first place even though being only three hours in into the sweaty ‘fun’. In all honesty he could have been reading a good book right now or just enjoying the small quiet his hotel room reserved or listening to the soft buzzing of the busy street below.

After-night parties were never his thing. He didn’t like how sweaty people would sit next to him and how disgustingly hot their breaths were— it’s understandable that they were being wild and incredulously lewd, but, maybe they can stay away from him and find another shoulder to cry on about how their ex dumped them in front of hundreds of people in the community mall? He just didn’t like being in bars. He’d rather be anywhere but here, really.

Charlotte just had to pick a karaoke bar. Of all bars in this damned place. Now Sami is drunkenly singing “My Heart Will Go On” by Celine Dion with an also drunk Shinsuke providing backup vocals, or so he said. They really weren’t singing, they were just slurring over their words in a horrible attempt to sing. They were hitting the high notes with a couple of voice cracks here and there and Finn swore he went deaf for a second. He was simply staring out of the window of their booth, completely bored and sober and looking at random people with his chin set on the leather cushion when she walked over to the counter and reserved a booth for her and her friends, who were already in the mood to hit the high notes and cause people their eardrums, by the looks in their eyes as they stared at the booths.

A happy glint in her eyes. Air bouncing off of her. A halo on top of her messy head. Each step worth dying for. Bubblegum pink dress gleaming under the soft boom of music and the buzz of lights. Bubblegum pink.

He felt the cushion weigh next to him and saw Charlotte’s blonde head look out the window, too, a goofy grin on her face. “Who are you looking at, my chum pal friend?” she whispered excitedly, as though they were children talking about their crushes in front of their parents. Finn chuckled at her. Obviously she’s drunk— who’d use ‘chum’, ‘pal’, and ‘friend’ all in one sentence? Drunk Charlotte, apparently. “Does my little Finnegan have a crush on a particular someone?”

“She’s not my crush, Char,” Finn rolled his eyes at her, moving his gaze away from the bubblegum pink girl. “Just… she’s kinda cute?”

“Kinda?” Charlotte blurted, as though he said something punishable by death. “Are you fucking blind? Look at her. Don’t give me the ‘she’s kinda cute’ treatment.” She shook her glass and took a sip. “Many men have said that. Many of them are actually in love with the girl. Is ‘she kinda cute’? I don’t think so. If that’s called being kinda cute then the whole damn women’s division here is kinda cute.” She grinned at him again and gave him a subtle wink that made him smile slightly. “Talk to her. Buy her a drink. Maybe make some new acquaintances tonight? You’re gonna be friendless really soon.”

She stood up and walked over to the ‘fun’ and left him with her ringing words. Drunk Charlotte. Why in the fuck would he listen to a drunk Charlotte? Last time he listened to a drunk Charlotte, he almost got his tongue stuck in a shot glass because she said ‘you could get the lime at the bottom’. He was young and naïve and new to the aspects of NXT and victory parties. He learned his lesson then— don’t listen to drunk people. They’re drunk. (Well… duh. Obviously.) They’re practically saying nonsense. Slurred words are not to be taken seriously.

Maybe Charlotte isn’t saying nonsense this time. Maybe he should really talk to her.

Tongue almost got stuck in a shot glass, Bálor. Keep your head in.

He needed new friends.

Fine. Drunk Charlotte won. He’ll be giving her five dollars tomorrow if this night ended well.

Finn finally stood up. It was the only time he stood up this night, unless you counted going to the bathroom to wash his hands every damn thirty minutes and escape the murder of his eardrums. He walked slowly out of the booth, his damned co-workers cheering for him as he made his grand exit— Charlotte might’ve filled them up with the situation already. But it didn’t really matter. How much will they remember in the morning anyway, when their heads are pounding and memories are fuzzy?

He made his way towards her after she talked with the receptionist. Her friends gave him these strange looks like Finn did something wrong— well, not technically. He’s been given these looks like he’s about to do the worst, punishable-by-death kind of thing in his life. He cleared his throat, meaning to actually clear his throat, not to snap the girl’s attention to him. His friends rolled their eyes.

Good job on a first impression, Finn.

He read somewhere while scrolling in Facebook that good first impressions can lead to a good relationship— so in this case, if he and this bubblegum pink girl hit it off and had a friendship, it wouldn’t be so good. He’s not sure, for all he knew the article could have been just another bullshit story in the internet.

Not really sure.

Fuck it anyway.

“Oh, hey,” the girl said, grinning kindly at him.

Angelic voice. Dashing grin. Kind personality. Marry me.

“Hi,” Finn said stupidly, and he mentally slapped himself. He stuck his hand out and she shook it. “I’m Finn. And you are…?”

“(Y/N).”

“What a beautiful name for a beautiful lady,” he said, and internally groaned for his cheesiness. He’s notoriously known for being the cheesy pick-up liner. His co-workers wouldn’t let him live this down if they ever knew. “I saw you from my booth. You look really lovely.”

“Oh, thank you very much!” (Y/N) answered, smiling from ear to ear at the compliment. “You look very lovely yourself, Finn.” Noticing that she still had friends who were waiting for the booth number, she looked over her shoulder and coughed nervously, “Booth 109. Right around the corner. Can you guys wait for me there?”

With sighs of relief and a few nods, they walked away. One of them, who had a small voice, shouted over her shoulder, “Get laid, (Y/N)!” before turning the corner and disappearing.

“They hate me,” said (Y/N) deprecatingly, later grinning up at him.

“I’m sure they don’t,” Finn assured, giving her a small smile, “you look like someone who’s hard to hate.”

“I’m pretty sure they do, after how many times I said I didn’t wanna go here in the first place,” smiled (Y/N), leaning against the wall. “I mean, it’s just… really noisy and sweaty here? I get the point that you really should be loud here but… I really didn’t want to go.”

Laughing, Finn said, “Same situation with my friends. Is there a celebratory party going on?”

“Yup. Promotion, kinda. One of them has a stable job or some shit. You?”

“Victory and loser party. I hate it there.”

(Y/N) giggled. Snorting, she said, “Victory and loser party? That’s new. I want to try and throw a party like that one of these days.”

“Yeah, well,” he said, scratching the back of his head as he chuckled softly, “my friends and I are wrestlers, you see. The winners from the pay-per-view earlier are gonna be the ones who treat the losers with drinks. Losers pay for the karaoke— but they’re the ones who use it anyway.”

“And how about you? Are you a loser or a winner?”

“Winner,” he grinned.

“Ah, parties…” (Y/N) sighed, resting her head against the cold cement. “I dressed up like this when I really thought about ditching on them.”

They looked at each other with serious expressions on their faces before finally falling into a fit of laughter. Spluttering yet another laugh, Finn said, “Well, I was about to ask you out for a drink but seeing as we both hate it here…”

“Let’s ditch on our friends. I don’t give a fuck about Henry’s emotional speech about his promotion anyway,” she shrugged, walking towards the exit, “and you don’t give a fuck about your victory and loser party.”

And so, they ditched on their friends with suppressed giggles. They ran around Brooklyn in a haste— it was late at night, no one would be really bothered by them, and no one would bother them. It’s just him, her, and the moon that night. Nothing else. It’s just their pounding hearts inside their chests and their pride worn across their chests. Nothing else. Just two sober strangers making jokes and being close to each other. Nothing else. It’s just a black buttoned-up man and a bubblegum pink woman.

Nothing else.

Their close ‘relationship’, it wasn’t anything strange. Or weird. Or misplaced. In a world like this, like theirs— this kind of love is a normal, acceptable, placed thing. Not anything to be judged at. Nor to be looked down upon.

They settled down in a bench near an almost empty McDonald’s. It was late. So late. But the moon still shone as bright as the sun did, their skin gleaming with her peppered kisses of moonlight. But the cars still buzzed as strong as lightning. But their hearts were still pounding loudly in their ribcages.

Her hair’s in a ponytail now, with tiny wisps escaping out of the elastic band. Her dress is still satin and lace and bubblegum pink and shone under the moonlight. She was holding the bottle of vodka in her hand, laughing slightly as she took it out of the paper bag. “Have you ever drank alcohol while being with a stranger before?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I haven’t, but I’d like to try, m'lady,” Finn said sarcastically, wiggling his eyebrows at her suggestively. She rolled her eyes, hit him on the arm, cranked open the bottle, and took a deep drink before handing the alcohol to him. “Have you?” he asked, after taking a drink and they stayed in silence, just watching teenagers stumble their way through their drunkenness and to their homes with bleeding knuckles.

“Hm?”

“Have you ever been drunk with a stranger before?”

“No. But I’m about to.”

“Yeah,” murmured Finn, taking another drink before passing her the bottle and she did the same. “Brooklyn is really pretty at nighttime.” He softly groaned as he sat back and watched the soft city. She looked back at him, eyebrows furrowed in a joking matter as she smiled at him suggestively.

Laughing softly, she said, “Yup” and took another drink before passing the bottle back to him— it’s kind of a cycle. Take two drinks and then give the bottle to the person next to you. “See those skyscrapers over there?” she pointed somewhere far. Behind all the trees and the bars and the empty McDonald’s. Behind all of those, there were mighty skyscrapers standing tall and chivalrous. Built by a person’s hand. How odd. “I want to be like them.”

“You wanna be tall and might?” Finn said jokingly, smiling when she giggled.

“Yup, I want to be tall and might like the skyscrapers, Bálor,” answered (Y/N) sarcastically, looking behind her shoulder and giving him a sharp wink. Luckily the ‘Open 24/7’ neon sign that McDonald’s had was slowly faltering, if it hadn’t been for that she could have seen Finn’s heated cheeks.

“But, no, really.” She sounded more serious now. More formal. “I wanna be like them because I want to look untouchable. Invincible. People can never say bad things to skyscrapers. I want to be like them because I’m exhausted of my unstable life. Fired here, fired there— I’m trying as hard as I can to have a job. Really. It might not look like it but I really am trying. Then I have to see my friends be successful while I’m here trying to be happy for them. I can’t stand to see another promotion party. I can’t stand being completely vulnerable to people’s talk at me.”

Drunk. Slurred words. Droopy eyes. Weird hand gestures.

“I’m not drunk, by the way,” (Y/N) said all of a sudden. She took the bottle in his hands and took another drink. “I’m just… babbling. Haven’t been really able to speak my mind for a couple of days. But it’s kinda strange, isn’t it? I’m jealous of skyscrapers and that probably doesn’t even make any sense right now.”

Finn scoffed playfully. “Oh, so of all things you said to me, you think the strange thing is you’re jealous of skyscrapers but not the fact that you’re practically ranting to a person you barely know?”

“I know you. I know you’re a nerd for almost everything. I know you like convenience store-brand vodka.” She shrugged at that, a goofy grin settling on her face as he stopped staring at the bottle in her hands and started looking at her in disbelief. “But anyways, you’re drunk, right?”

They looked at each other for a moment before grinning. “We’re sober adults, you and me both, (Y/N).”

“You’re right, you’re right,” she said, throwing her hands in the air as a I-give-up kind of gesture. “Wanna wander aimlessly for a little while? Our friends will start to worry in like, a few hours, anyway.”

“More like your friends,” Finn grinned. “Mine are drunk and most probably still singing their fucking hearts out.”

(Y/N) put a hand over her chest, as though she was offended over something he had said. “I did not take you for someone who use swear words. I thought you were a good, innocent boy.”

“I’m not that innocent.”

“Oh, baby, I know,” she gave him a playful wink and they both snickered. Both of them had heated cheeks, Finn’s from her wink and her suggestive remark and (Y/N)’s from the vodka.

“I’ll get you for that.”

“Oh, sure. Race me to the heart of that park over there.” Her pointer finger was aimed at a park a good block away from them. “If you win, I’ll give you my number. If I win, you’ll treat me to McDonald’s. I guess, if we both win you’ll have my number, and I’ll have my McDonald’s.”

And at that, she stood up and began to run down the street. She threw her arms in the air again and screamed out a loud “Fuck!” and continued to run before Finn realized what was happening and decided to get up and follow her— without a care for incoming cars. They were getting tipsy, and now, at this time, cars only dragged along the road every few hours. And now, at this point, they didn’t really care.

What was happening: he’s racing a girl he barely knows. He’s going to treat her to McDonald’s if he lost.

His reward: her number.

The air felt strangely warm. Warm as in the country summers and the apple-picking weeks. Warm as in the sunny days in the beach. It felt foggy. Thick. Every step he took, it felt like parting the atmosphere between them and the bubblegum pink. Every step he took, he felt younger and younger.

He had never been with someone who made him feel young and whole again— who didn’t make him feel like he was obligated to act mature in a completely non-rational situation. She made him feel the opposite. She made him feel like he was meant to do something more in life than travel around the world and do a couple of dropkicks here and there and wrestle his heart out, like he was meant to have space for his heart other than wrestling.

Each step she took, the air radiates off of her. The halo on top of her messy head is glowing as bright as it did hours earlier, when she was sober and acting self-deprecatingly. The ecstasy in her eyes— it never went away permanently. It did, for a moment— when she was talking about skyscrapers. But it never did die. It just… disappeared but stayed there, waiting for a moment to shine in the darkness.

When they both saw multiple gleaming streetlights planted on the dirt, they knew they were nearing their destination. The air is still foggy, thick, parting, warm like the apple-picking weeks. Their steps are in a haste, desperate to get their rewards. (Not him—not that much anyway.) Their hearts are pounding against their chests as loud as a beating drum in noisy parades. Their minds are fogged with nothing but white noise and alcohol filling empty cracks that never needed to be filled.

Finally they entered the mighty gate. The park is still open, even at this time of night. The gravel crunched underneath their feet as they increased speed. Their hands were balled into fists so tight to the point that their knuckles turned white.

“I’m going to get my French fries, motherfucker.”

Her laughter filled the void that even the quiet of his hotel rooms couldn’t. Her smile brought the light he thought he never needed. She— she made him feel something he never thought he would feel. Something he thought he never needed.

“I’m going to get your fucking number.”

It really can’t be.

“We’ll see about that!”

He can ignore it. He’s tipsy. She’s tipsy.

“You can’t fucking beat me!”

The world is practically amazing right now. It’s not true.

Heels scratching on dirt. An arm hitting a pebble. They laid on the ground, both silent except from their soft gasps of breath. Finn smiled.

He. Is. Drunk. He shouldn’t be feeling this way.

The sky, a light swirl of lilacs and blues and pinks now instead of deep blue with stars like diamonds, was spinning. Their heads were pounding and she was still holding the bottle in her hand.

But if she says another word. If she smiles another smile. If he feels young again.

“Fuck.” He was breathing heavily.

Then he’ll admit it. He’ll let himself feel it.

“I never felt that kind of adrenaline since I was a kid.” And with that, (Y/N) sat up. She was smiling at him. And her face is a masterpiece. A painting of some kind. Her emotions were the watercolor that would spread. And as she drunk the vodka again, the beverage stood as her eraser. It removed all her emotions. It removed all the paint on her face. Washed her with a warm cloth. It removed all flaws until her face is bare. Until her face is like a boring, old canvas, waiting to taste some kind of pain, some kind of unbearable serenity, some kind of recklessness.

He swooned. He felt young. He felt like the world, somehow… it mattered. It didn’t spin, it didn’t feel like it made no sense anymore. The way she smiles, the way she talks and the way she was afraid to show her emotion. It made him feel like the world isn’t doing cartwheels anymore, it made him feel like the world finally made sense. He felt a tremble in his chest, a pounding against his ribcage, a small switch flick in his brain. He felt all levels of weirdness. He can’t feel his legs.

Fuck it then. He’s in love.

Not with the city. Not with the sky. Not with the soft grass pressed against his back. Not with the convenience store-brand vodka. But with how her lips curved into a small smug smile, how her laugh echoed in his head as a soft melody, how she filled every corner with her radiating air. With how the halo on top of her head glowed as bright as ever. With how her face looked like a painting, alcohol serving as her destroyer. With how desperate she is to get treated to a McDonald’s that she almost broke her ankle in the process. With how the world seemed so amazing, so pure, so meaningful— sober or not—because of her. With how the bubblegum pink dress gleamed with every move she made. He’s in love. With her.

Does that make sense? Is that acceptable? Is it okay to fall in love?

So many questions. But there’s only one answer. He doesn’t want to know. He just wants to savour this moment, fall in love with someone who he’ll lose soon, get drunk with someone who’s going to lose him, too.

“We should go and get your well-deserved McDonald’s then,” Finn rasped, offering a small wink that made her cheeks blush. “Are you sure your ankle is okay?”

“I’m fine, I don’t need a piggyback ride or anything,” joked (Y/N), which made him roll his eyes and stand up. She stood up, too, after being offered a hand. “But,” she started, as they calmly walked back to the bench and the almost empty McDonald’s and the lamppost, “I don’t mind a piggyback ride from you, seeing how well-built the mighty Finn Bálor is.”

“I promise you a piggyback ride soon.”

“Pssh. Stop that.”

“Stop what?” he questioned, cocking an eyebrow.

“Stop making promises you never really intend to keep.”

Finn looked at her with a bewildered expression, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “I have that habit of making promises. I also have that habit of keeping them.”

“People can’t promise you anything.”

“I think, in all thirty-four years I’ve lived through, I’ve picked that up already.”

(Y/N) laughed a glorious laugh. Smiled another light smile. “I guess.” As they both stepped inside the McDonald’s, the smell of cooking meat overwhelmed them. “Apple pie and fries?”

“Apple pie and fries.”

And now they’re back in the park again, sitting on the soft grass with their legs crossed. They looked like children, hungry and lost. They were washing fries down with vodka and choking on their words. She didn’t mind sharing. She didn’t mind him lying down on the grass while he finished the rest of the vodka. She didn’t mind how she opened up about her past relationships. She didn’t mind opening up to him like a book waiting to be read.

“So, that’s the story of how my foot got stuck in a wall.”

“Why kick it in the first place?” Finn laughed, and she shrugged playfully as she clapped the salt off of her fingers. He looked up to the sky. It’s early. 5 AM. He has to leave soon. “We should head back. Our friends might be looking for us.”

“Oh, y—” Her ringtone hit. She fished for her phone in her purse and laughed.

“What is it?” Instead of giving him a verbal reply, (Y/N) turned her phone and made him read the reason why she laughed. Two text messages from Henry, the guy who got promoted.

HENRY — (Y/N), where the actual fuck are you? Aria is drunk off of her ass and had already puked on Oliver’s sweatshirt. (Sent: 5:02 AM)

HENRY — Update on Aria: Slightly sober. Threw up again when Oliver suggested getting seafood. (Sent: 5:03 AM)

“Speaking of friends.” She grinned devilishly and locked her phone. Picking up the plastic bag of McDonald’s on the grass, she smiled at him. They walked back to the bench, to the empty McDonald’s, the skyscrapers. They felt exhausted, like any second they can collapse. Every inch of their bodies are tensed to the point that every move hurt.

The karaoke bar with its shining neon sign and vibrations came to view once they rounded the corner, both engulfed with silence. “Thank you,” (Y/N) whispered, grabbing Finn so they were hidden from Henry and his pack. “Thank you so fucking much. This is the best night of my life. Or morning. Whatever.” They both suppressed a snicker. “Give me your phone.” And so he did, gave her his phone unlocked, not even asking why. After a few seconds, she handed his phone back to him. “There’s my number.”

And suddenly, a shout of, “(Y/N), I know you’re there!” interrupted Finn’s mixed feelings and the small flip his stomach did.

“It’s Henry,” she whispered. “I got to go.”

Before she turned the corner again, (Y/N) grabbed the collar of his shirt and pressed her lips firmly against his. The force of it so strong that it almost knocked Finn over. The flip his stomach did repeated, the mixed feelings weren’t so mixed. He only felt one thing and the space in his heart got filled, finally.

He’s in love. He’s not terrified. He’s not doubtful. Only hopelessly in love.

“For so many hours, you made me want to do that to you,” (Y/N) confessed, after pulling away. And there she goes again. Spilling her heart out without a care. He admired that. “And you know what’s crazy? I’m in love with you.”

I’m. In. Love. With. You. Five words that made Finn’s mind explode.

“It’s not crazy.” And that’s true. “Love is love.”

“I guess so.” And with that, she leaned in again and kissed him. Eager but passionate. Soft but rough at the edges. Sweet but poisonous. It felt like the kiss is somehow making him feel everything she felt a few hours ago. Like she was transferring her own emotions, her watercolors, to him— emotionless, a boring, old canvas.

She pulled away. The flow of emotions stopped and he was no longer a watercolor painting, no longer a masterpiece created by her calloused hands and bruised knuckles and fingertips. Winking at him, she backed away slowly. To the road. Away from their fire. Away from their beacon. Away from him.

And with that, the sky turned lilac and bright orange and the sun balanced on the horizon. Birds were flying. The people are awake, ready to start their busy city life once more. The dark yellow cab was waiting for her and the promoted-stable-life Henry and the drunk Aria and Oliver with the puked-on sweatshirt. It was morning.

Her dress swished side to side when she made each step, the satin and lace gleaming under the sunlight. The halo on her head is still glowing, more iridescent as ever. Each step carried a weight that even the cement can’t handle. Each step, the air radiated off of her. And the bubblegum pink dress. Everything had a change of heart but it stayed there. Glowing. Radiating. Still satin and lace.

Still bubblegum pink.