#that reminds me I was gonna draw Lang

[doctorsiren]

siren i think you just like drawing Phoenix as a furry (/silly)

THE WHIPLASH I GOT FROM THAT ASK SENT ME INTO A COUGHING FIT IM CRYING 😭😭😭😭

[hansolmates]

here comes the bride, all dressed in pride

summary; You and your cousin Doyeon have had beef with each other since the sandbox. When she plucks the last straw, you decide to end your long-simmering fight by claiming that you and her ex—Jeon Jungkook, are now boyfriend and girlfriend pairing; jungkook x reader (f) genre/warnings; fake dating!au, fluff, crack, mentions of cheating, lang, alcohol, mc eats meat, tw sexual harassment, toxic family, dick talk, making out, if u have that one family member that pulls bs on you constantly this is it, this fic is for all the people who have a huge ass family who wont leave them alone w.c; 17.3k  a/n: my second fic for gcn’s 23 birthday project! the fact that wedding szn zoomed by us like that... and so bc im sad that so many weddings had to be postponed this fic was born! a huge thank u to vivi @eerieedits​ / @chillingtae​​ for creating this BEAUTIFUL fic banner and separator pls check vivi out to make your fics all purty

prompts used: “You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?” and “I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.”

if you enjoyed this pls consider giving a like and a share💕💕

Doyeon likes to call Jungkook, “the one who got away.” 

You like to call Doyeon, “the one who drove him away.” 

In secret, of course. In fact, the only person who knows how much you loathe Doyeon and her behavior is your father. And all your co-workers. And your boss. And your boss’ ex-husband. 

And Jeon Jungkook, but of course you haven’t seen the man in two years and back then he was far too polite to address his concerns of your hatred of his then-girlfriend. 

Okay, so everyone and their mother knows how much you don’t like your cousin. Kim Doyeon and you have had beef since the sandbox, and for whatever reason is always out to one-up you. A strange competitive nature in everything, academics, family, and even boys. The sick, twisted part of you has come to enjoy it. While you’re not a fighter as devout as Doyeon is, you have your own callous tendencies farmed from the seeds Doyeon has planted in your brain. She gives you a comment? You can’t help but throw one back. Since you’re a painfully mature soul you don’t have any mortal enemies as far as you know, Doyeon is the perfect amount of hot water to keep you on your toes. 

“I’m really sorry that you couldn’t be a bridesmaid,” Doyeon cooes next to you, swirling her champagne glass with a too-jutted pout, “but if I did there’d be an odd number of pairings and you’re a little too old to be walking as a bridesmaid, am I right?” 

Your nails. Are digging. Through your dress. Alas, you’re in public and you have class. Doyeon smiles at you with all teeth, reminding you of the Beldam from Coraline. Aside from that she looks absolutely stunning in that Lirika Matoshi strawberry dress that has her Instagram aching with likes and love from her baseless followers. 

“I don’t know,” you reply lightly, leaning back in your seat, “I mean, if Yoojung and Rena can be bridesmaids and they’re three years older than me, wouldn’t I make the cut? It’s okay to be honest and say you just didn’t want me in the bridal party.” 

Doyeon laughs, slaps your thigh like you told her the most hilarious joke in the world. Anyone passing by would think you’re best friends. You laugh too, incredulous at the amount of power she thinks she holds. 

“Nice party,” you tack on, surveying the room. It’s filled with pastels and beiges, bright and airy.  It’s Parisian themed, and while you’re not a fan of theming cultures, you can’t deny that you’re loving the infinite supply of macarons. 

“Oh, yes. This is just a taste of the real wedding,” she laces her fingers together, as if she thinks she’s living an Elizibethean love story, “speaking of, you put on your RSVP that you’re bringing a plus one. Am I allowed to know who’s the unlucky date?” 

“As if you care.” 

“I care if you’re bringing Jimin. That tiny thing nearly gave Aunt Lillian a heart attack when he gave a striptease at Yoongi’s graduation party.” 

You smirk softly at the bold memory. That was the plan. 

Doyeon sighs dramatically, crossing her legs and popping out a cherry red heel. She plays with the back on the balls of her feet, letting the little pearly rhinestones glisten in the candlelight, “I should really commend you, cousin,” she drawls, “I mean, how kind of you to be so charitable and give your dopey friends a chance to have fun. After all, I’m sure it is difficult for someone like you to find a date.” 

It’s no surprise as to how you end up with a date at any family formal gathering. You say you bring a plus one, and then between Jimin, Taehyung and Hoseok. The three of them draw straws as to who gets to gorge on free alcohol and food for that night. 

“Difficult?” you arch a brow, “I get plenty of dates.” 

Doyeon giggles. She must be feeling extra vindictive today, high on her impending marriage and the taste of bubbly champagne. “By taking turns with those three? You gotta be kidding me,” she snorts, tipping back her crystal, “please y/n. Don’t get so defensive because I’m getting married first. Your time will come. That is, if you stop dicking around with your friends.” 

Normally you’d smother any attempt at Doyeon to call out your friends, but now she’s just done that and insulted your ability to get some, and you are livid. 

“Actually,” you quip sharply, “I’ve been dating someone. It’s been a couple months, actually.” 

“Oh?” Doyeon’s genuinely interested, face falling slightly, “you’ve never mentioned anyone, I don’t see anyone on your social media.” 

“Yeah well,” you feign sympathy, pressing your lips together and tilting your head accordingly, “I’ve had to keep it private for a couple of reasons.” 

“What, is he ugly or something?” she chuckles, “but really, who’s the person who has the misfortune of being in a committed relationship with you?” 

Maybe it’s because Doyeon’s right, the both of you are too old. The two of you have been running around each other for years, with no end in sight. Maybe, the words that linger on the tip of your tongue will be the final nail in the coffin. 

“Jeon Jungkook,” you state proudly, clear as day. “Jungkook and I have been dating for three months.” 

And you pick up the vanilla macaron that sits innocently on your plate, ravishing it up like it contained all the tension in your table. Between you and Doyeon’s bubble, you could hear a pin drop. 

“Jungkook?” her smile is concrete-solid, “my Jungkook?” 

“My Jungkook,” you correct, giving her a puppy-eyed look, “I’m really sorry I never told you. I mean, is there ever a right time to tell your cousin they’re dating their ex-boyfriend?” you laugh, either to lighten the mood or because you love the way Doyeon pinches her face, you don’t know.

“How did you two even meet?” 

“We reconnected through Seokjin. You know how the two of them play Starcraft together, I just ended up joining the call and he was so funny and nice. We just sorta… felt it.” Doyeon nods like a slow bobblehead, still comprehending in her pea-sized brain, “I just hope it isn’t too awkward. I know it’s been awhile but, if you really don’t want Jungkook to come I can always take Hoseok or something.” 

“No, it’s fine,” Doyeon says a little too quickly, masking on her picture-perfect smile. “I’m with Namjoon now, and I’m totally happy. Water under the bridge, it’ll be totally fine.” 

“Really?” your eyes practically sparkle, thankful for the amount of glitter and highlighter you’ve dumped on your face today, “I really appreciate it, Yeonie.” 

And she quickly downs her champagne glass, and gets up from her seat. It’s haunting, the way she gets up, pink tulle billowing around her ankles. “I have to attend to the other guests,” she says. 

“Of course,” you raise your glass.

“But, be careful,” she gives you a little smile, one filled with a last-ditch attempt at a jab, “Jungkook, he’s a little hard to deal with.” 

“Oh don’t worry. I know how to deal with Jungkook’s hardness,” you wink, and Doyeon’s face falls like a ton of bricks. 

“That’s not what I meant.” 

“I know,” you shrug loftily, “that’s what I meant, though.” 

And you don’t bother watching Doyeon stomp off the metaphorical stage, double fisting two new glasses of champagne from an awaiting butler as she finds some other poor guest to pick on. Now, the matter of securing your date. Conveniently so, the most important man in the room is walking your way, and you manage to snag his tie just as he passes your table. 

“Ow—ow! I’m choking!” Seokjin grabs, nearly throwing his tall body onto your lap, hands grappling to release the tension on his neck. “Leave me alone, woman! I just wanted to get some chicken tenders!” 

“Jin,” you say sweetly, opening his blazer to retrieve his phone, “I need Jeon’s number, now.” 

“Jungkook?” your favorite cousin pales, eyes widening as you take out your phone of your own, copying down the digits, “what did you do?” 

“Don’t ask questions.” 

Seokjin says your name again, firmer. “You’re playing with fire.” 

“It’ll be fine, it’s the last time,” you quell, already knowing how much Seokjin hates being in the middle of your fights. Once you’ve secured the phone number, you place Seokjin’s phone back into his pocket, patting his breast. “Thank you. You know you’re my favorite cousin, you know that?” 

He grumbles a “damn right I am” before stomping away, resuming his race for his chicken tenders. 

You: hey jeon it’s y/n. I see you’re doing great, i saw on instagram that you released your first app w/yoongi! Totally amazing, been playing for weeks, really upset that i can’t get past the flaming frog boss :((

You: Feel free to ignore this, i won’t blame you if you do. Im at doyeon’s rehearsal dinner, and she basically snubbed my friends and said i couldn’t get some prime dick even though im?? Me??? Anyway, im tired of her shit so im gonna throw it back at her, one last time before she ties the knot. I told her you and i have been dating, and im bringing you as my date to her wedding. Really sorry, the demons took over my brain and made the worst and best comeback of my life. So… if you’re up for being the hottest couple on the floor in three weeks and showing how madly in love we are, please text me back? Or not. You might think this family is crazy and i accept partial responsibility. 

You: I’ll buy u every meal for every practice date we have if u agree.💕💕💕

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: thanks, i appreciate that. To defeat the frog boss, go back to the coconut cave and find the garnet garter. It absorbs his fire and u can easily defeat froggo w any level 15 weapon

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: and as for the real reason u texted me. Im in. let’s get pork belly tomorrow. 

Two years ago, you were surprised that Doyeon could manage to snag a man as fine as Jeon Jungkook. Also unsurprised, because Doyeon is gorgeous and could snag any man she wanted, and has snagged every man she wanted. 

Jungkook was different though. He had an air of innocence to him. He loved her, a little too much to be safe. Your heart would betray you every time you would find him at a family gathering, making her plate and counting the calories she so meticulously measured. How can someone so sweet be with someone like Doyeon? 

Your heart ached for Jungkook when they broke up a year later. From what you heard, Doyeon was Jungkook’s first serious girlfriend. And then you wanted to rip your heart out a week later when you caught Doyeon smooching with her favorite graduate professor Kim Namjoon, wanting to erase any possibility you’d have at love. At that time, you never wanted to feel the pain you imagined Jungkook was going through. 

“Y/n! Over here!” you’re a little taken aback at how much has not changed in Jungkook. His eyes still sparkle like fresh dew, his smile is still pearly white and infectious. He’s even early, snagging a table at his favorite barbeque place and waiting for you as if he is the one organizing your first date. 

At the same time, there’s so much that’s changed about him. He’s confident, even going so far as to walk over to you and slip your jacket and purse in his grasp like a gentleman. He leads you by putting a hand lightly at the small of your back, making you feel impossibly small in comparison to his Dorito-shaped body, broad shoulders and a deliciously trim waist. 

“How was the walk over?” 

“Not too bad,” the conversation is casual, easy. You wipe the sweat off your forehead with a napkin. “Could use a little exercise now and again. I did eat a whole tray of macarons at that rehearsal dinner.” 

Jungkook laughs from his belly, causing you to smile. “Nonsense. You look great, by the way,” you don’t mind it, actually, you enjoy it when his eyes rake over your body. After all, he’s now your boyfriend and he needs to get familiar with all the important bits. He leans his arms forward, bracing him against the wooden table so his face is closer to yours. 

“You’re not doing too bad yourself,” your eyes gloss over the veins and intricate tattoos that paint his muscled upper half. Your smile morphs into a smirk, letting him know you’re enjoying the view just as well as he is. 

And as soon as the tension sparks, it ends just as fast when your waiter comes up to light your grill. 

“So,” Jungkook wastes no time in decorating your stove, making sure to add all the appropriate aromatics and infusions to season your lunch, “do you know why Doyeon and I broke up?” 

“Cheated on you with Namjoon, I assume,” you keep your eyes trained on the darkening meat. 

Jungkook slips a piece of meat in his mouth. Any expression of pain (whether it be from Doyeon or the barely cooked meat) doesn’t reveal itself as he stops to take a sip of water. “Who else knows?” 

“Just me and Seokjin. The family loved you too much and Doyeon made up some sob story about how you two were going different life paths.” 

He chuckles to himself, taking great care in flipping the meat. “I really was a fool in love, wasn’t I?” 

“It… was mildly cute.” 

“Tell me the truth, you have no reason not to.” 

“Okay, you made me want to vomit rainbows and glitter every time I saw you.”

The two of you laugh, faces crinkling shamelessly as the two of you busy yourselves with setting up the table. Most of the food is done and the aroma of fresh onions wafts around your grill. As you place chopsticks on his side of the table, you think about all the times Jungkook made it abundantly clear how much he loved Doyeon: the love letters tucked into her purse, 100 day anniversaries, even just a simple Americano for her in the morning. 

“Is that why you never hung out with us?” 

“No,” you reply lightly, “Doyeon made it clear that I shouldn’t talk to you.” 

Jungkook frowns, “You really don’t like each other, do you.” 

You shrug, “Just always been like that,” you quirk a smile when Jungkook places the freshly cooked meat on top of your rice before serving himself. 

“So what’s the plan?” 

“We go to the wedding, make out a little, get Doyeon boiling. Even if she’s not interested in you, she’d still be upset knowing we are together.” 

“And why is that?” 

“Because it’s me,” you grin into your glass, staring at a water-stained Jungkook through the blue tinted glass. “And all you have to do, is enjoy your night and look pretty.” 

His eyes crinkle, chopsticks pressing between his lips. “You think I look pretty?” 

With a roll of eyes you don’t respond, preferring to dig your chopsticks in your rice. No need to inflate Jungkook’s ego too soon. 

Pinning the main theme of your hangout to the side, the both of you dig into your meal. You throw conversation back and forth like pebbles, grains of sand that build and build until you’re caught up with each other’s lives. It feels so strange to admit it’s been two years since you’ve spoken to the man, and all of a sudden the once luscious meat feels dry in your mouth. 

“Jeon,” you put your chopsticks down, “are you sure you want to do this with me? I mean, I know it’s all my fault and I dragged you into it. Don’t feel obligated to agree to this.” 

“I’m a hundred-percent sure,” he doesn’t stop eating, shoving two spoonfuls of rice in his mouth. His cheeks puff up considerably, and your eyes trail down to his neck as he swallows, “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t wanna.” 

“Right,” you don’t need a big explanation or a personal confession from Jungkook, just his consent. “Partners, Jeon?” you hold up your glass. 

“Partners,” he agrees easily. The smile on his face disarms you, a full-fledged grin decked with pearly whites. Clicking his glass to yours he adds, “And it’s Jungkook, babe.” 

Oh, this is going to be interesting. 

Seokjin thinks the two of you are the most boring fake-couple. 

His eyes dart back and forth between your spot on the couch and his desk, where Jungkook is currently seated. Seokjin is hovered over Jungkook, who’s typing and clicking furiously over his PC game. You’re on your phone, feet pulled up to the coffee table while some old Netflix movie plays in the background. To top it all off both of you didn’t even try to dress like it’s daytime, nearly matching in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. It doesn’t look like a couple coming to visit Seokin, it looks like Jungkook is playing video games with Seokjin while his cousin hangs around like she owns the place. 

“Shouldn’t you guys like, I don’t know, go on dates or something?” Seokjin feels like he’s talking to the air. “Maybe get to know each other before the big day?” 

Pulling your phone down to your lap and Jungkook taking off his headphones, the two of you shrug at each other, “No, we’re good.” Jungkook says. 

“We know enough,” you agree cooly, “Jungkook likes Valorant.” 

“I do like Valorant.” 

“He likes pork belly.”

“I do like pork belly.” 

“He’s ripped as hell.” 

“I am ripped as hell.” 

“Okay but have you guys kissed yet?” Seokjin interjects, probably compensating for the nonchalance in the room with his own brand of freaking out. You two only see each other when you’re hanging out at Seokjin’s apartment, and while he’s happy that you two aren’t doing the whole 9-yards and creating an elaborate scheme, the both of you are almost too relaxed. His anxiety is spiking.

“Yes,” Jungkook answers, “at the barbeque place we went to.” 

“It was nice," you tack on, "Jin, we got this. Don't worry." 

"How can I not worry when you're trying to upset our cousin on her wedding day?" he's sweating in his fully air-conditioned apartment. “I get that she’s the devil’s spawn and everything, but she’s still a human being.” 

“In second grade she pushed me on the treadmill because I was going too slow. I got caught on the roller and got a bald spot for two months.” 

“Okay yes one bad example—” 

“And in senior year she accused me of plagiarizing her essay just because we chose the same topic. I almost didn’t get into college!” Seokjin sighs, crossing his arms. All valid points, and arguing with you isn’t a route he wants to take. “Jin, the point is that she’s constantly pushing my buttons. I’ve always been the bigger person and now that I’m old and confident I just want one jab.”

“That’s valid,” Jungkook pipes up, pressing the spacebar a few times, “I want a jab too, she cheated on me.” 

“See? It’s a mutual decision.” 

Seokjin asks, “Why aren’t you more worried about this?”

"Because Doyeon isn't going to chew me out on her wedding day," you checked your aunt's seating chart last week and you are far, far away from the bridal table. "We're just going to show off a little bit. Get drunk, eat some bomb steak. Break up in three months or less.”

"You don't have to just convince Doyeon, it's your entire family! Not to mention you also have to go to the bachelor party!" 

"Oh I almost forgot," you reach under the couch for your laptop, "Jungkook, in two weekends from now we're flying to Las Vegas for the bachelor party and wedding. I'll buy your ticket now." 

"Thanks, babe!” Jungkook sends a cheeky grin to Seokjin, who is unimpressed. “See? I remember to call her babe.” 

“Alright, get out of my house,” Seokjin tugs Jungkook away from his computer, causing the younger man to swivel around in his plush gaming chair. 

Jungkook frowns at the monitor, “But I’m still bronze one. I’m aiming for silver one by this weekend.” 

“Don’t care. As much as I don’t like this plan, I’m not letting you two slip-up.” Seokjin pulls out his phone, revealing Doyeon’s Instagram story, “Doyeon and Namjoon are at the mall buying swimsuits for Vegas. Go to the mall and ‘accidentally’ run into them.”

You sit up straight, tilting your head to the side. “That’s not a bad idea, actually,” you bound over to grab your jacket, giving Seokjin a big fat kiss on his cheek, “Thanks Jinnie, do you know you’re—”

“I’m your favorite cousin. Yeah whatever, bye.” He waves you off, plopping in his own chair so he can enjoy his games in peace. 

“I’m driving,” Jungkook declares, swiping your keys from Seokjin’s opal dish. 

“Oh, hell no,” you jump on your tippy toes to reach Jungkook’s grasp on your keys, but he’s so freakishly tall there’s no way you can reach. “I drive my car!” 

“I’ve always wanted to drive your car back then,” Jungkook cooes, leaning in so your noses touch. “C’mon, you can trust me.” 

“You two are gross already,” Seokjin admonishes from the other side of the room, “see, it’s working!” 

Poking his cheek so he gives you some space, you whip your head to hide the flush that burns on your cheeks. “Fine, but if you crash you’re buying me a new one.” 

“They’re over there,” you hiss between the racks, shuffling between the plastic hangers to point to Doyeon and Namjoon at the women’s section of the store. They look disgustingly adorable together, with Doyeon pointedly telling Namjoon which swimsuit suits his stature better while Namjoon nods along and goes with whatever she says. You crouch down lower, fearing Namjoon’s tall frame would catch you. “Now we just gotta act all couple-y and they’ll notice us. Or maybe we can walk over to them? What do you wanna do?” 

“Do you think we should get matching swimsuits?” Jungkook pays no mind to your sleuthing, holding up a red pair of swim trunks to his thighs, “we could pretend to be sexy lifeguards.” 

You tilt your head away from the pair, only because Jungkook has been genuinely interested in this store since you’ve arrived. Putting a hand under your chin, you scrutinize the dark red cutoff shorts. “They’re cute,” you nod appreciatively, “It’ll make your thighs look thick.” 

Jungkook’s grip on his hanger lowers, and he regards you with dark eyes. “You think my thighs look thick?” he asks, leaning in and putting one hand on the curve of your waist. His fingers dance on the surface of bare skin between your top and jeans, and while you’ve agreed beforehand that you two could touch each other wherever in public, it still surprises you when gooseflesh rises to the surface.

“Easy there, tiger,” you chuckle, putting a hand on his chest to stop his sudden bout of flirting. “I’m just stating the facts, we get it. You lift.” 

“You’re so cute when you try to put your guard up,” he’s brushing noses with you now, and you feel the plastic of the hanger crumple pathetically between you two as the gap closes further. “But you can’t hide from me.”

And just as his lips move to press against yours, a shrill “Jungkook!” echoes throughout the large store.

You nearly flop over the boardshorts rack if not for Jungkook’s arms secured around your waist. Oh right, you think dumbly, this is all for show. Doyeon and Namjoon are right in front of you, purchases already made and looking at you two in curiosity. Well, Namjoon is definitely curious, because you know for a fact that Doyeon speaks very little of you to him and you’ve only conversed with him a handful of times. Doyeon on the other hand, looks a little stiff in the grin. 

“Hello to you too,” you remark to Doyeon, who’s barely acknowledged you. You reach over to squeeze Namjoon’s arm, “Hi Joonie,” you crinkle your eyes, and you fight back a squeal when he smiles back with dimples. Doyeon has such a cute fiancé, and if you’re keeping score he’s way too good for her. 

Doyeon’s eyes glaze over to where you’ve touched Namjoon, and she links her arms with his. “What a coincidence, you two are buying swimsuits where we’re buying swimsuits.” 

“Well, there’s only one mall in this town and we’re going on the same trip in two weeks,” you reply blandly, and you feel Jungkook pinch your side. “Oh, Namjoon. Have you met my boyfriend Jungkook?”

“Can’t say that I have,” Namjoon reaches over to clasp Jungkook’s hand, “nice to meet you, man.” 

While Namjoon and Jungkook exchange small talk, you pointedly ignore the waves of negativity Doyeon sends your way in favor of observing the two large men. Namjoon just said it was nice to meet him, therefore he has no clue who Jungkook is. Interesting, considering Doyeon two-timed in favor of Namjoon. It gets you a little antsy, and you wonder if Namjoon is faking this whole interaction or if Doyeon is hiding something. 

“Baby,” Jungkook rests a hand on your shoulder, regarding you with concern, “you spaced out there, are you okay?” 

“She’s like that, Jungkookie,” Jungkook gently presses your shoulders down, blocking your view of Doyeon as she regards your not-boyfriend as Jungkookie. “My cousin’s a bit of an airhead,” her tone is sweet and jesting, the backhanded jab going right above Namjoon’s head. 

“I’m just hungry,” you say, forcing a tight-lipped smile. 

“Well, that’s perfect,” Namjoon clasps his hands together, “Yeonie and I were just about to go grab some dinner. Why don’t you join us?”

Doyeon and you both reply immediately, “That really isn’t necessary—” 

“Nonsense,” you don’t even have the heart to be upset at Namjoon because he looks so damn genuine, “It’s been two years and I haven’t even bought you a meal, y/n. After all, we’re going to be family at the end of the month.” 

“Right,” you answer reluctantly. 

“We’re gonna make reservations at the Cheesecake Factory,” he pulls out his phone, ready to make a call, “but you and Jungkook can finish shopping, okay? The wait will be a little long but by the time you’re done our table should be ready.” 

You and Jungkook wave off Doyeon and Namjoon as they make their way to the restaurant. Your hand is caught in the air by Jungkook, who regards you with worry in his eyes. “I wasn’t kidding when I said you looked spaced out,” he says, “tell me what you were really thinking.” 

Subconsciously, you squeeze his palm for comfort. “I don’t know, it just feels weird knowing Namjoon doesn’t seem to know you at all. Normally Doyeon loves to talk shit about her exes.” 

Jungkook scoffs easily, “I mean, if she’s marrying the guy I’m sure she doesn’t want to let him know the details of how they ended up together.” 

“True,” you decide to let it go, and follow Jungkook to the register to pay for his swim trunks. 

“So,” the little ‘ding’ of the register opens up the money box, and Jungkook quickly hands the clerk his cash, “we’re having dinner with them after this?” 

“Only if you want to.”

“We need to, right?” Jungkook thanks the clerk, holding the bag in one hand and threading his fingers through yours as you head out the store. 

“Well, do you want to?” you ask again. Jungkook stops the two of you on the sidewalk. It isn’t a fast stop, but a slow down that makes his walk a little more thicker, more deliberate as he trudges you down the lane. You move in front of him, clutching your hands between his. “Are you okay? You barely even acknowledged Doyeon.” 

“I’m fine,” you flinch at his harsh tone, and he immediately moves to remedy it by squeezing your hand back. “I’m sorry. It’s just been awhile and I’m definitely over her but,” he bows his head, feeling embarrassed, “she hurt me, you know?” 

Going into this is definitely one of the more selfish plans you’ve put your mind to. Your heart pangs thinking about what must be going through everytime he sees her. If he’s reminded about all the good times they shared, or how much he’s over thought every single conversation he’s had with her up until this point.

“Of course,” you completely understand, knowing from the beginning that this whole mess would end up with some dicey feelings someway or another. “I’m just thankful you chose to stick by me. And we can talk about it if you’re comfortable,” both of you being victims of Doyeon’s brand of torture, you hope the two of you can at least be friends after all of this is over, “we don’t have to go have dinner with them.” 

“But, Namjoon got us a table—” 

“Namjoon will be fine. We can always have dinner with him another time,” you smile softly, “what matters is that you’re okay.” 

His gaze melts, and you feel his grip loosen in your hold. He regards you with weak eyes, betraying the confidence he held himself to moments before. “Thanks, y/n,” he says, “I really appreciate that.” 

“Anytime,” you reply honestly. “We can go to Cheesecake and order to-go. I can make some excuse about how my stomach hurts and that we should do a raincheck.” 

“Sounds good.” 

“Do you wanna eat at one of our places or eat at the park or something?” you’re already pulling up your phone, checking out the menu. “We could invite Jin too.” 

“The park sounds nice,” neither of you acknowledge the fact that you’re not inviting Seokjin, and for some reason that’s okay.

“Yeah,” you agree simply, “the weather’s beautiful.” 

Under any normal circumstances, you would’ve been friends with someone like Jeon Jungkook, easily. A little part of you wishes that you could’ve met Jungkook first, but Doyeon has better connections than you and always had a good crowd around despite her inner motivations. No awkward exchange happens when you suggest to Jungkook to eat together. Even though you’re not technically dating, the two of you know that eating together is better than eating alone.

And you have to admit Jungkook’s great company. The two of you drive to a reserve nearby, overlooking a tiny lake. Instead of a fancy Italian tablecloth the two of you move your car seats down and set a spare picnic blanket in the trunk. Instead of a candlelit dinner the two of you find some emergency electric tealights in the glove compartment, lighting it up between you two as you dig into your to-go boxes. 

You’re a little envious that so much time has passed by. You could’ve been a little sneakier and made a better effort to communicate with Jungkook when you saw him regularly at family parties, and maybe you two would have a better friendship today. Nevertheless, the two of you mesh like peanut butter and jelly, exchanging conversation that has your cheeks sore from smiling too hard. 

By the time you get to dessert, the moon is out and the stars are floating above your heads. The two of you are at war, fighting with your forks over the last strawberry in your cheesecake slice. After some careful stabbing Jungkook manages to nab it with his fork. 

He almost puts it in his mouth, but instead swipes up some whipped cream to press the last strawberry to your lips. 

“I think it’s working,” Jungkook says randomly as you chew the sweet fruit, “you could see it on Doyeon’s face today. She’s unsettled.” 

“Yeah,” you agree, lying down on the lavender gingham picnic blanket. 

“Do you know why she fights with you all the time?” 

“That’s a question I’ve been asking myself since the dawn of time.”

“I think I know why.” Jungkook looks down at you with his large doe eyes, licking innocently on a spoon of whipped cream. 

“Pray tell.” 

“She’s jealous of you.” 

“No,” you disagree easily, “she’s jealous that I have you.” 

“Bzzt! Wrong,” Jungkook puts his empty container in your makeshift trash can, falling beside you and knitting his hands under his head. You have a little window on the roof of your car, so both of you are able to stare at the navy sky, “she’s always been jealous of you. Think about it. The two of you have similar lifestyles: same career path, confidence, taste, education. But even after all of that? People still like you more.” 

You scoff, hands immediately reaching to fiddle with the frayed corner of fabric next to your fingers. “I don’t think so.” 

“I’ve met all of Doyeon’s friends,” he informs you, “they’re weird. Like yeah, they care about each other on the surface level. But they’re nothing of substance. They’re not like your friends.” 

“Please, Doyeon has everything she could ever want,” you don’t know what kind of complex you have supporting Doyeon’s life, but something deep and insecure wants to separate you two as far away from each other as possible. “Like… she’s Malibu Barbie and I’m Polly Pocket.” 

Jungkook turns to face you, resting his head between his palm and leaning on his elbow. “Do you not think you’re beautiful?” 

“Yeah, but compared to Doyeon—” 

“You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?”

You choke on your saliva, feeling small and skittish at the implication behind his words. It’s been two years. You’ve only been friends for two weeks. How can he possibly say that? 

“I uh, saw you once,” Jungkook coughs, and you watch the way his pale cheeks unmatch the moon and instead flit to a crimson hue, “we were at some party and you were wearing this really cute black dress with a white bow in the middle. Doesn’t even matter what party because it was random, y’know? I was gonna go talk to you but Doyeon got to me first and well, the rest is history.” He breaks eye contact with you, unable to handle it. 

You remember that party, vaguely. It was random, some sort of poetry slam in a shady part of town. Doyeon and you didn’t even go with each other, you were with Taehyung and she just happened to stumble in there from another nearby party. You didn’t even know Jungkook was there that night, or how you were a hair's breadth away from meeting him before Doyeon. 

“Don’t ever think you’re lesser than her just because out of all the people she chose to pick on, she chose you. It’s why she never lets you get to know her boyfriends. She’s threatened by you because you’re just as special,” something low sparks in your chest at his words,  “and now that you’ve finally decided to stoop to her level and fight back with a taste of her own medicine, she doesn’t know what to do.” 

Feeling like your body is on a beach and you’re sinking in sand, you soften over your picnic blanket, mulling it over. “Did I make the right choice? Stooping down to her level.” Your voice is quiet, comparable to the chirping birds and buzzing gnats outside. 

“We won’t know until after the wedding,” Jungkook answers honestly, “but I do know I’m sticking with you until the end. We’re friends now, got that? You have no excuse to ignore me anymore.” 

You don’t want to ignore Jungkook, never in a million years. Now you know that you are envious of Doyeon, for having an opportunity to love and care for an amazing person like him. So in a sudden bout of emotion, you roll over to straddle Jungkook’s waist. 

He’s shocked, hands flying to your waist to make sure you don’t wobble off. But you’re determined, and lean down to press your lips against his. He tastes like cheesecake and strawberries, the taste melding with your own as you relish in the feeling of his soft lips against yours. You melt a little when he squeaks, breaking into a soft moan as he reciprocates the gesture. He’s warm and large and he makes you feel safe. Once your brain returns to your body, you break for air. You only pull back a few centimeters, and there’s no way for you to get off because Jungkook has locked you in place. 

“What was that for?” he asks breathlessly. 

“Don’t know,” you’re whispering against his lips, unable to pull away, “just felt like we needed a little more practice.” 

He blinks, before relaxing in a silly smile. “I agree,” he says simply, dipping you on your back so he can be on top the second time around. 

“We’re in Vegas, baby!” 

Every single terrible comedy movie set in Las Vegas has brought you to this very moment. You’ve always wanted to say that line. Dumping your luggage next to Jungkook’s, you flop on the nearest mattress. Thank goodness you only wore leggings and a t-shirt on the flight, it’s the optimal sleeping outfit after a long day. Feeling something hard and plastic dig into your brain, you hold up the culprit and squeal excitedly. “Look, Kook!” you wave the crinkly confection in your hands, “they put mints on the pillows!” 

Despite your room being a square with two queen beds, the hotel does not skimp on quality. The decor is ornate, the white and gold trim on the doorknobs and metal appliances shimmering beautifully. The beds feel like clouds, as you try to imagine what a cloud could possibly feel like, this is it. 

Jungkook immediately follows suit, ripping off his outer clothes until he’s left in his undershirt and boxers, flopping next to you on the mattress. He immediately opens his mouth when you shoot a mint, catching it easily. “I feel like we’re in a deleted scene of Crazy Rich Asians,” he says, letting the hard mint clink around his teeth, “is this the part where you tell me your family comes from old money and I’m gonna be your sugar baby?” 

“Don’t be so hopeful,” you narrow your eyes, booping his button nose with your finger. 

“I’m just saying, the first class flight threw me off.” 

You giggle, slapping his chest, “No. If that was true, we wouldn’t be sharing a room with my cousin. Sorry you have to share the bed with me, I got the hotel with Jin and he doesn’t want to sleep with you.”

“S’okay,” Jungkook replies softly, leaning closer to make grabby hands at you, “you’re softer.” 

Tentatively, you scooch over so you can lean on Jungkook’s chest. You two have a little time before Doyeon and Namjoon’s combined bachelor and bachelorette party. The past two weeks have been nice—scratch that, the past two weeks with Jungkook have been wonderful. You never cared to measure how much time passed before meeting him, but now that you’ve begun fake-dating, time is the only thing you regard. You’re already beginning to miss him, knowing that in a week, this whole arrangement will be over.

Well, not exactly over. Jungkook says you’ll remain friends after this, but you don’t really want that. You want more, and it scares you to think he may not feel the same. 

But right now you’re snuggling like an old couple, sleeping comfortably between pillow-like sheets and minty breath. Your pretend boyfriend, now your pretend boyfriend with benefits, looks soft and huggable and you want to bottle up this moment forever. You say benefits because, well, the cuddling is an added bonus. Practice practice practice, Jungkook sing songs the words you used that one night under the stars, excuses to seal his lips to your lips. You’ll never argue with that. So when Jungkook’s hand tightens around your waist and pulls you closer, you relent. 

One second, you’re closing your eyes and the next, you’re waking up to Seokin’s wide eyes staring back at you. 

“Eep, you creepo!” you shriek, scrambling away from him. That’s when you realize Jungkook’s missing from bed, the scent of his laundry detergent lingering between the eggshell Egyptian cotton. 

“Jungkook’s in the shower,” Seokjin immediately reads your mind, pulling away so he can unpack his luggage. “My flight just got in two hours ago, you both were out like a light when I arrived.”

“Ugh, I’m really not ready to party.” 

“Doyeon just texted the family group chat. She reserved the rooftop, the party starts in an hour,” he talks mindlessly, rifling through his stuff. Seokjin is fiddling with his clothes, despite the fact that you know Seokjin prepares his outfits days in advance so he doesn’t have to choose. He looks concerned, pulling out a flamingo pink boardshort and setting it down on his mattress. Finally he says, “I’m worried about you.” 

“Why?” 

“Because. It’s clear that you’re starting to fall for Jungkook.” 

The words strike you straight in the place you’re trying to avoid. You’ve been living in a fantasy these past two weeks, thinly veiled by the whole reason you two are together in the first place. Doyeon’s wedding is just around the corner, and what then? 

“I’m not saying that he doesn’t feel anything for you either,” that gets your heart skipping a beat, and you secretly hold a hand to your chest under the blankets, “but do you really want to start off a relationship like this? A relationship all messy and morally objective because it’s built on revenge?” 

“Don’t worry about me,” the words easily fall from your lips, “I can take care of this.” 

“I hate it when you say that,” the words are curt and harsh against Seokjin’s plush lips, “I’m allowed to worry about you, y/n. You know why? Because, because you’re my favorite cousin too,” he bites his lip, walking over so he sits on your side of the bed. “So don’t tell me what I can and can’t worry about. I want you to be happy, I want you to stop holding in this anger you have for Doyeon and move on.” 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, leaning over to press your cheek against Seokjin’s shoulder. “You’re right.” 

“For the first time in a long time, you’ve finally decided to lean on someone,” and both of you know who that someone is. “I don’t want you to lose him over some petty family issue. You should tell him how you feel.” 

“I will,” you wrap your arms around your cousin’s slim waist in a silent thanks. 

“Am I interrupting a tender family moment?” 

The two of you pull away to stare at Jungkook, leaning against the doorframe that leads to the bathroom. He’s in a plain white t-shirt and the red board shorts that you bought at the mall, cutting off mid-thigh and revealing the bulky muscle underneath. You were right, the shorts do make his thighs look thick. 

Seokjin groans exaggeratedly. “Yes, yes you did.” 

Jungkook immediately goes to replace Seokjin’s spot, and some stray droplets fall fresh from the shower due to his slicked-back hair. “Do you wanna get ready? First party’s soon.” 

“Not really,” you admit, “you’re gonna meet the family all over again.” 

“Second time’s the charm,” he winked, “I’ve already met your parents and everything. Not feeling nervous at all.” 

“Oh, really?” 

“Really,” and the facade cools down a little, “well, maybe a little nervous for your Aunt Lillian. Her stares give me the heebie-jeebies.” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from Aunt Lillian.” 

“God the two of you get worse every day,” Seokjin has magically changed into his shorts, tucking himself into the bed, “don’t wake me up until we pre-game.” 

Doyeon and Namjoon don’t skimp on the festivities, although in taste the ideas are Doyeon’s in its entirety. It’s lavish and colorful, with a beautiful infinity pool in the middle decorated with lavender and pink headlights. There’s a buffet table overflowing with tasty food. There’s petal pink champagne overflowing from fountains, decorated with fresh strawberries bobbing around the fizzy drink. 

“I don’t know,” Namjoon and Jungkook have been talking for well over an hour, and it’s clear how well they mesh together. Heck, you’ve accepted that Jungkook may like Namjoon more than he likes you. Jungkook’s eyes sparkle as Namjoon discusses the various genres of rap and hip-hop music, explaining the potency of mature themes in a young community, “but I will say music is like another language, knows no boundaries when it comes to sending their messages to others.” 

You fight the urge to chuckle when Jungkook sighs dreamily at the music theory professor. “Wow, that’s so deep.” 

Getting up from your cabana, you nudge Seokjin, who’s currently flirting it up with one of Doyeon’s bridesmaids. “Hey, wanna get a drink?” you ask, throwing your wrap on the cushions to reveal your strappy red bikini. 

“And chicken tenders,” Seokjin presses a kiss to the bridesmaid’s cheek, bidding her goodbye as he follows you out of the shaded area. 

“Do you two lovebirds want anything?” you stare pointedly at Namjoon and Jungkook. While Namjoon’s eyes stay in contact with you, you can’t help but smile a little more when Jungkook has a hard time keeping his gaze in one place. 

“I think we’re fine,” Namjoon answers for both of them, swirling his beer bottle. “I’ll meet you two at the bar once I’m done.” 

“Sure thing,” Seokjin puts a hand on your back to lead you to one of the open bars. As much as you like being in a handsome hotel with money to burn, nothing beats the fact that your entire family is here to celebrate. The elders have corroborated two cabanas for poker and other games, while your younger cousins are playing ping pong and air hockey on the other side. 

“Namjoon sure is a dreamboat,” Seokjin bemoans, handing you an electric orange drink. You take a sip of it, and bug out when you realize it tastes nothing like alcohol. You’re definitely in for a night. “Like I can hear him wax music thingamajib any day.” 

“I thought you were into that bridesmaid.” 

“A mere diversion,” he sighs, leaning his tanned arms against the bar, “can’t ignore the deep voice Namjoon has, it’s intoxicating.” 

“I’m sure Jungkook would agree,” you egg on. 

“What are you two talking about?” you straighten up when the man of the hour shows up at the bar, absolutely glowing under the sunset. He orders a round for the three of you, and you immediately chug your own drink to get to the next one. 

“Talking about how you’re stealing Jungkook away from me,” you joke, accepting another fruity drink from Namjoon. Damn, this stuff tastes like candy. 

“Oh, never,” Namjoon replies brightly, waving the thought away, “do you see the way he looks at you? Hopelessly in love.” 

Maybe it’s the copious amounts of alcohol, but you feel your stomach flip-flop at the thought of love. You’ve always known what love felt like, the warmth of Namjoon’s cheeks whenever he sees Doyeon, when your mom takes care of you when you’re sick, when Seokjin makes sure you’re not emotionally constipated 24/7. But the thought of Jungkook and you in love? It’s a feeling you secretly yearn for. 

“Right? It’s disgusting,” Seokjin groans with an eye roll, “like, Jungkook wasn’t like that with Doyeon at all when they were together.” 

The slip up has the three of you choking on your own thoughts, staring at each other like the three have just been told you’re on a prank show. But it is no prank, and you look at Seokjin who’s absolutely horrified. 

“Oh shit,” he squeaks, looking at Namjoon guiltily, “did I say something I shouldn’t have said?” 

“I don’t know,” Namjoon replies coolly, “did you?” 

The ominous response gets you going, and you quickly place a hand on Namjoon’s arm, placating him. “They dated, yes. But it was only for a short time and we’ve sorted everything out. Nothing for you to worry about.” 

“Oh,” Namjoon quirks his head, and regards you two with pursed lips. “I’m not one of those guys who freak out over other people’s exes. I’m just surprised that I’ve only heard this now,” Namjoon takes a slow sip of his drink, and despite your drink also being cold and refreshing, you’re absolutely sweating. 

“Well, I’m sure Doyeon didn’t want to worry you.”

At the mention of his future wife, he beams. “You’re right, she’s considerate like that,” and the conversation ends just like that. He holds up his drink to the two of you, and you and Seokjin do the same. With a sharp clink he leaves you two to mull, happily conversing with the next round of guests he needs to entertain for the week. 

“That guy is too nice for his own good,” you shake your head, asking the bartender for your third drink within ten minutes. 

Seokjin leans over you and warbles, “So you’re telling me that Namjoon has no idea that Doyeon cheated on Jungkook in order to date him?” he’s sweating just like you are, following suit to your actions and asking to make his drink a double. 

“I don’t know,” you bite your lip, your teeth worrying the dark skin, “I’ve been thinking about it for a while though. I just don’t want to get involved, you know?” 

“But this is different!” 

“But Doyeon’s family!” 

“And all of a sudden you care about Doyeon’s feelings?” Seokjin gripes back, “it’s not about Doyeon, it’s about the both of them. And if we know something that Namjoon doesn’t, wouldn’t it be in our best interests to warn him before he seals a marriage deal that costs him over a zillion dollars?” he gestures to the extravagant wedding party. 

“But we don’t even have any proof that’s the case,” you frown, “Doyeon could have changed—a little, not a lot—since meeting Namjoon, maybe she thinks it’s best to reveal as little as possible.” 

Seokjin wonders what kind of family he has. One as chaotic as his takes a lot to stomach, and Seokjin likes to pride himself in his strong appetite. “Fine, let’s just keep a close eye on both of them this week. And if anything remotely fishy happens, we strike.” 

“Deal.” 

You return to the cabana alone, with a plate of fries for both you and Jungkook. Jungkook is also alone, laying on the lounge chair with his eyes closed. It gives you a chance to ogle your fake-boyfriend a little bit, reveling in the sight of his toned body. 

Setting down your plate with a sharp rap of the glass, Jungkook opens one eye. “Hey,” he smiles, drinking in your muted expression, “you okay?”

Damn Jungkook for being able to read you so well. “I think so. It’s nothing, really.” 

“Well, will you tell me if it’s something?” 

“Yeah, I will.” 

“So, I do have something to tell you though.” Jungkook sits up, regarding you wearily. “Can you… stand in front of me?” Confused, you shove a fry in your mouth and walk up to him as directed, your back blocking the entrance as you stand in front of him. “Okay, come closer. Now bend down,” you bend your back 90 degrees, and he presses a hand to your shoulder to stop you, “no, no. With your breasts out, just a little—there! Arch your back. Like you’re doing the Sorority Squat.” 

“Excuse me—” 

“The music isn’t even that loud,” he mutters to himself, “no one would need to push their boobs in my face to hear me.” 

“Jungkook, is someone pressing boobs to your face?” 

“Why,” he breaks into a playful grin, “jealous?”

“Not if it’s Aunt Lillian.” 

“Unfortunately it wasn’t,” he twiddles with the drawstrings of his shorts. “It was Doyeon.” 

Doyeon? She didn’t walk by your cabana all day. Heck, she barely greeted you when you arrived with Jungkook. But when Jungkook’s alone is when she decides to pounce? And with what motive? 

“I don’t know,” he’s rambling to himself, “maybe I’m overthinking it. It was only half a second.” 

“Jungkook, I have something to tell you,” you say instead, panic in your features. 

“Is it something urgent?” 

“Well, no but—” 

“Then tell me when we get back to the room,” Jungkook easily pulls you onto his lap, and you instantly heat up when you feel your bare butt press against Jungkook’s golden thighs. “Like you said, we’re in Vegas. Let’s have fun while we can.” 

“Okay,” you tuck your head between his neck and collarbone, reaching to press a kiss to his smooth jawline. 

Relaxing against the plush lounge chair Jungkook feeds you fries while talking about the things he wants to do this week. It’s his first time in Vegas and he wants to make the most of it. He wants to visit all the buffets he sees on Buzzfeed compilations, relax at the pool, maybe catch a show. The thought of spending all week with him and your family is nice, and suddenly you don’t feel so awkward sitting on his lap, and eventually he pulls you between his thighs so you can lay on his chest. 

“And between you and me,” he fake whispers against the shell of your ear, as if he’s telling you the biggest secret, “we’re the hottest couple here.” 

The next three days leading up to the wedding are relatively uninteresting. 

Uninteresting in the best way possible. On Monday you and Jungkook spend time with your little cousins, taking them to The Adventuredome, one of the resort's indoor theme parks. On Tuesday you and Jungkook go shopping at the outlet malls with your parents, blowing hundreds of dollars on cheap Levis that have your luggage bursting with a new wardrobe. In between all of that Seokjin and occasionally Namjoon joins you two in your buffet journey, hitting up the top spots and filling your tummies to the brim with delicious food. 

On Wednesday, Jungkook brandishes two gold-foiled tickets in front of you, waving them around like a fan. With one finger, he pushes away your Pokémon battle, “I got us tickets to Cirque du Soleil,” he announces proudly, “waited in line for an hour.”

You gape, scrambling off of your bed and throwing your Nintendo Switch to the side. “Jungkook,” you marvel, “these are so expensive. How’d you manage to get a show for tonight?” 

He shrugs, “Looked around.” 

“You’ve been impulse buying a lot this week,” you tease, “like really, you don’t need three pairs of the same ripped jeans.”

“This wasn’t an impulse buy,” he says, “I’ve been looking around for shows. Just managed to pick them up today, so go get dressed for our date.”

Did Jungkook just call it a date? Giddy with excitement you throw the covers off, running into the bathroom to get ready. What a surprise, you didn’t think Jungkook would be into spontaneous things like this. 

Seokjin left the bathroom open, so when you walk in the room it is steamy and warm. Your dear cousin is still in the shower, probably waiting for his conditioner to pass three minutes of set-in time. 

“What are you getting ready for?” Seokjin asks over the rain shower.

“Kook got us tickets to Cirque du Soleil,” you chirp happily, looking through your skin care products. 

“I wanna come!” 

“Nope! Jungkook called it a date.” 

“Oh, a date,” Seokjin drawls, putting his head under the water to rinse his hair clean. “Well then, should I vacate the room for tonight?” 

“What, no!” you’ve closed the door, so thankfully Jungkook can’t hear you talking about him. “We’re not doing anything. We’re just two friends who are fake-dating going on a date.” 

“Sounds like a real date, though,” Seokjin wraps a towel around himself to cover all his important bits before getting out of the shower, bumping elbows with you so he can brush his teeth. “Either way, I’ll be gone tonight. It’s my turn to watch the baby cousins. Don’t have too much fun while I'm in their room watching Despicable Me for the millionth time.” 

“We’ll be sure to stop by with some pizza or something,” you tease, a little wiggle in your hips when you vacate the bathroom. 

By the time you and Jungkook are ready, you two are dressed impeccably. Jungkook is wearing one of the ripped black jeans he bought on Tuesday, combined with a white button up and black blazer. A classic outfit with a little bit of Jungkook-themed flair. And to Jungkook’s surprise, you’re wearing the dress that he first saw you in, all those years ago. You’ve gained a little weight since college, but you still fill out the little black dress beautifully, the little white bow in the middle adding a simple yet adorable touch. It took a little sleuthing and searching through your old college clothes, but you were determined to find it when Jungkook reminded you how much you love the design. 

Clearly from the way Jungkook is currently gaping at you like a bloated fish, he loves it too. 

The show is beautiful and colorful, leaving you speechless and in tears by the end of it. Jungkook lets you hold his hand the entire time, feeling a bout of anxiety anytime the acrobats fall gracefully despite the large height. 

Overall, it was a wonderful show, paired with your equally enamouring date. It’s getting harder and harder to distinguish what’s fake and what’s real in your heart, and throughout the night you’re sorely reminded that you should tell Jungkook how you feel. 

But by the time you get to the room your parents are calling you, asking to get their suit and dresses out of the car so hotel service can do a last minute press and dry clean. 

“I’ll be back,” you say to Jungkook, “I need to go get their clothes out of the car. They’re always so forgetful.” 

“Want me to come?” he offers, hand shying away from inserting the keycard in. 

“No, I’ll only be fifteen minutes, tops.”

“So I guess this is this the part where I get a goodnight kiss?” he asks cheekily, leaning on his heels so his tall frame reaches yours. You don’t hesitate to give a short peck to his pretty pink lips. He pouts at the brevity, “that was too quick.” 

“Go inside,” you insist, “the sooner you get ready for bed the sooner I can get ready for bed.” 

“Then more kisses?” 

“Then more kisses.” 

Jungkook breaks into an all-teeth smile, unable to control himself when he dips down and steals a longer, more lingering kiss to your lips. “I had a great time tonight,” he says, mimicking every single teenage rom-com protagonist who’s deeply in love with the popular jock. “Don’t take too long, okay?” 

You nod, pushing him inside, “C’mon, if you stopped talking I’d be back by now!” 

Once the door closes shut, you let yourself do a little dance in the hallway, wiggling your butt and giving yourself a mini-celebration. You quickly text your group chat that you just came back from the Cirque show.

Jimin: what, a date with your fake date?

Hobi: jeon jungcock? 👀👀

Jimin: whaaaaaattttt. U’ve gotta have sat in his lap at least. 3 times since you’ve started this ting

Hobi: i’ve heard things in college… 

Taehyung: u are all gross and i hate u 

Taehyung: but so am i bc im very curious 

Just as you’re about to send a heated reply, the elevator dings, revealing a pissed off Doyeon. She’s bare-faced, in a fluffy lilac bath robe and matching puff ball slippers. You slip in right beside her, making sure there’s a comfortable amount of space between you two. 

“You’re going to the parking garage too?” you ask, eyes lingering on the lit button. 

“Yeah,” she’s looking at her phone, a few stray hairs from her mahogany bun falling onto her forehead, “Aunt Lillian left her medication in the car. I don’t know why she has to send me, I’m busy getting married.” 

“My parents left their formal clothes in the car,” you shrug, “you know, my parents and Aunt Lillian share the same brain cell. Gotta help them out once in a while.”  

The icy silence in the elevator is probably the calmest you and Doyeon have been since you’ve announced your relationship status with Jungkook. You fight the sigh, opting to take out your phone and open some unread messages. 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: hurry up, the bed’s cold without u 

You: lool, why do u look constipated 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: because i am, hurry up. Im bringing ur switch to the toilet and playing on your profile 

You: JEON WAIT YAMPERS AT 5HP GO TO THE POKEMON CENTER U HEATHEN

You tilt your head a centimeter, feeling Doyeon breathing down your neck like Puff the Magic Dragon. You look at her with wide eyes. Her long, slender neck manages to snake its way next to your head, “Can I help you?” you ask amusedly, clutching your phone to your chest. 

“Are you two really together?” she asks, batting her lashes. All this week she’s left you alone, and you’ve been wondering when she’s going to make herself known. It’s a little self-absorbed you have to admit, but ever since Namjoon’s ignorance to Doyeon’s previous relationship, you’ve been on edge. 

“Of course we are,” you spit back, “I love him.” 

And you must be very convincing, because Doyeon’s gaze falters just a fraction. You glare at her, staking your claim. Ever since Jungkook told you the reason Doyeon hates you is because she’s jealous, you’ve started to feel a bit of sympathy for her. Doyeon is beautiful and smart, she has no reason to feel this way. But the brain holds fickle thoughts sometimes, bringing darkness to the mind. 

“He loved me first,” she bites back, lifting her chin. 

“And why do you care?” you laugh tonelessly. The elevator dings open, and you’re met with the open air and concrete of the parking garage. “He may have loved you first, but he’ll love me last.” 

You leave the elevator first, a little pep in your step as you make your way to the rental car to gather your parent’s things. While the words you uttered are white in nature and may not hold any sort of weight to them, it manages to bring Doyeon to her knees, absolutely quaking in the elevator. 

You’re tasting revenge, and it’s sweet. 

“Okay, you need to leave,” Seokjin pulls away the shot glass from your lips, “I didn’t spend days planning the itinerary for you to mess it up. Bridal party in Doyeon’s suite and the groom’s party in Namjoon’s parents suite.” 

“That’s dumb,” you chastise, crossing your arms, “we’re all meeting at the same club at 10. Why can’t we pre-party together?” 

“Because it’s tradition!” 

“Screw tradition,” you stumble on your heels as you purse your lips at Jungkook, “Kook, when we get married I don’t wanna do a whole boy-and-girl party. We’re equals, right?” 

“Of course, baby,” he cooes, being careful not to smudge your makeup when he presses his lips to the crown of your head. “But for the sake of Seokjin’s sanity, you should probably go to Doyeon’s. It’ll only be an hour or two.” 

You gasp exaggeratedly at the blatant betrayal. He only grins cheekily in response, dipping down to press a wet kiss to your cheek. “Fine,” you cross your arms, snatching back your drink from Seokjin’s grasp to knock it down. 

Leaving the bachelor pre-party pains you considerably. They’re having such a good time joking around the suite, telling each other fun stories and relaxing in chairs as they watch TV. This is your kind of crowd, not to mention that you can peacefully check out Jungkook’s ass in those tight dress pants without any crazy club lights distorting your vision.

From past family party experience you already have a feeling what’s coming for you in the ladies’ suite. 

Loud music pours from Doyeon’s suite, and it’s completely unlocked. The bridal party is raving, ten seconds away from being completely drunk and immobile. The lights are being manually shut on and off like some sort of cheap rager, and you have to tell Yoojung to tone it down before you get a seizure. 

The stench of acidic drinks and the tang of alcoholic air is palpable, and instead of a shot you opt for a glass of peach champagne to slow you down. 

As you walk deeper into the suite, you notice a crowd forming by the balcony. Tapping your cousin Nari on the shoulder, you regard her with a hug and kiss. “What’s going on over there?” you ask, heels not helping you see any better. 

Nari’s all blushy and pink, hiccuping as she gestures to the balcony. “Her maid of honor got Doyeon a very special gift!” 

Managing to weave through the women blocking your view, you fight the urge to gag when you have a clear view of the scene in front of you.

You really don’t understand the purpose of bachelor and bachelorette parties. “One night to be single all over again!” they all say, even though they’re not actually single? Like why does the couple suddenly get one night of forgiveness when you’ve already spent years being in a committed relationship? 

Why is it okay that Doyeon’s dry humping a stripper on the balcony? Her white silk dress is ruched dangerously high, soon close to flashing her family. Aunties and friends and the like are cheering her on, and she flips her head perfectly to all the phones shoved in their faces, making sure to get the perfect angle. 

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you turn back in the hopes that your other family members would be willing to have a good old-fashioned tip back with you. 

You squeal when your hands accidentally land on a bare, oiled chest. You look up, mortified at the large man covered in black harnesses. “Hey babe, I’m Wonho,” he says, faking a sultry gaze as he looks at you up and down, “you’re part of the bridal party too? Wanna dance?” 

Feeling naked, you push past him, careful not to get anything on your dress. Wonho? Wonno.

Jungkook loves your family. 

(Except Doyeon.)

As much as he told you not to worry about him, and he’ll be completely fine when he meets your family, he couldn’t help be a little wary on the flight over. After all, it’s been two years and he didn’t know how things would be different. 

Chaoticism and all, your family is a thing to be cherished. Even though Yoongi has been on mood swings that make Jungkook question his sanity from time to time, and Seokjin is secretly breathing down Jungkook’s back every time he so glances at you, he thinks things are right where they should be.  

But despite all that they regarded him with familiarity, hugged and kissed him like old friends, something is different. They’ve turned over a new page for him. They don’t bring up Doyeon. They ask about his family, his job, his life in the city. They ask about how you and Jungkook met, and how happy they are for you. How happy they are for him.

Oh, how he wishes everything could be different. In another world, you two would already be together. 

He wasn’t lying back at the cabana when he said you two are the hottest couple at the resort, including the bridal party (but don’t tell Namjoon). You look absolutely stunning in your sparkly red dress, accentuating all the right parts and lighting up the whole room. 

When he finds you in the club you’re sitting down with your Aunties, keeping the elders company while the younger ones are flagging down the bartenders. He thinks it’s cute, how well you fit in between them, coddling you like you’re still a child in their eyes. 

“Dear, your boyfriend is here!” your one Aunt yells over the loud EDM.

You lift your head up quickly, giving him the prettiest smile. Your teeth glow purple under the neon lights, and he fights the urge to laugh when he holds out a hand. “Mind if I steal her from you?” 

“Of course, she’s gotta live a little!” 

You pout, a little wobbly but nevertheless still in the right mind as you shuffle out of the booth to meet his awaiting arms. “Hey handsome,” your voice is thick and sweet-smelling, “come here often?” 

“Only when my girlfriend does,” he replies cheekily, hands immediately coming to your butt to smooth out your dress. He shys a bit when your Aunties hoot and holler at his public display of affection, but all he wants to do was pull the hem down a little bit. No way is he going to let anyone get a flash of your goods. 

“Let’s dance!” you take your hand in his, leading him to a comfortable corner of the dance floor. 

Clubs aren’t really your scene, aligning with Jungkook’s sentiments towards the loud generic music and terrible smell. But you’re in Vegas, and he feels that it’s all part of the package to experience the nightlife at least once. He puts his hands on your waist and you giggle like you’re in prom, hands coming to rest on the collar of his button down. 

“Hey,” he says with a lopsided smirk, “wanna make out?” 

 “Sure,” he notices that you don’t even check if anyone’s seeing, and it makes his heart flutter when you don’t hesitate to get on your tiptoes to meet him halfway. 

He’s always hoped for a moment like this, a moment where the room stops spinning and both your minds click into place. It’s almost comical, how he distinctly notes that the music fades once his lips touch yours. The kiss is hot, yet intimate. Even though he makes excuses to kiss you all the time because of practice, it goes to show that you two definitely never needed it. Your tiny hands grip the collar of his button down, bringing you two impossibly close despite the hot air. His larger hands grip at the strings that hold your measly dress together, grappling at any excuse to get to your soft skin. The two of you are a natural when it comes to each other’s intimacy. 

The two of you pull away, mesmerized. You haven’t kissed like that before. He melts under your stare, his thumb reaching to nick off any lip gloss that’s moved in the process. 

Seokjin comes down the floor to haul you both by the shoulders, “C’mon lovebirds, they’re taking wedding shots!” 

The two of you follow your cousin to the crowd of people that is your family, already with their own drinks in hand. Doyeon and Namjoon are sitting atop the bar, making a very loud toast that consisted of a quick “thank you!” and “we love you!” before downing their drinks with their arms linked together. The room is thrumming with excitement for tomorrow’s festivities, and surprisingly, you and Jungkook included. He tucks himself in your body like a puzzle piece, hugging you from behind while he watches Namjoon’s eyes sparkle with love under the neons. 

The nightclub gets a little blurry after that, with the copious amounts of alcohol and shameless actions from your family and friends. By the time it’s twelve Jungkook notices you swaying at a rate that you can’t handle. He knows your limits and knows when you have to urge to pee every five minutes, it’s time to go. With a chaste kiss you leave him at the bar, deciding to make a pitstop to the bathroom before telling Jungkook you want to head up.

You’re locked in a stall when you hear Yoojung’s voice. 

“Ugh,” she groans, voice echoing through the tiny room. “Jungkook is so sexy. Do you see the way he’s dancing out there? He’s a literal babe magnet, I can’t believe he ended up with someone like y/n.” 

You don’t move a muscle, pressing your ear against the door that hides you. The silly slander isn’t news to you, Doyeon has been feeding her friends all sorts of bullcrap so they wouldn’t bother talking to you. 

“Yeah, Jungkook’s a real treat but he dated Doyeon first. Sounds like she’s into sloppy seconds,” Elly replies, another bridesmaid you’ve met in passing. “But I don’t know, they do look happy together.”

“Please, I’m sure Jungkook’s just using her so he can get one more chance at Doyeon before she ties the knot,” you bristle, the thought of Jungkook still having feelings for Doyeon makes your heart thud painfully against your chest, “like, what a downgrade. Namjoon and Doyeon do not deserve this drama. If Jungkook ever liked Doyeon at all, he wouldn’t have come. Period.” 

You slam the door open, causing Elly to squeal and Yoojung’s YSL lipstick to fall onto the sink. You’re the epitome of relaxation, walking towards the sink to wash your hands. The bridesmaids simply stare at you, unable to formulate a comeback. When you finally dry your hands, you say your next words. 

“Jungkook is here because he loves me,” an act act act. This is all an act. You shouldn’t be this offended because you know it’s all false. “And you’re wrong. It’s not Jungkook that doesn’t deserve Doyeon. Jungkook was too good for Doyeon.” 

And you slam your heels against the tile, stilettos pounding to the beat of the music. Your exit is full of anger and frustration as you ignore the burn in your step and the ache in your heart, flagging the first bartender you see to get you a double. 

Shot for shot, that anger soon melts into guilt as Yoojung’s words sink in. The thought of Jungkook using you to get to Doyeon is terrible, you can barely stomach the thought. But that’s exactly what you’re doing, right? You’re using Jungkook to get back at Doyeon. 

Why did you even want to get back at Doyeon anymore? Why do you have to prove anything to her? If she just continues to push you around, isn’t that more on her than it is on you? 

Jungkook soon finds you after you’ve nursed a few drinks, leaning unceremoniously against a barstool. His eyes widen at your state, and he immediately sheds his jacket to wrap it around your waist. 

“Why did you drink so much?” he chastises, “it’s the night before the wedding.” 

“Jungkookie,” you warble, clutching your stomach, “I don’t feel so good.” 

He sighs, bending down. “Get on my back. Make sure the jacket covers you up, okay?” 

He doesn’t even grunt when you put all your weight on him, feeling like a ragdoll as he hoists you up. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, letting him carry you to your room. Most of the older family already went upstairs to sleep, so none of your cousins could care less when they see you get hauled away by Jungkook. 

You inhale, he smells like sweat and cologne. “I like putting my head between your neck,” you babble, and you feel Jungkook chuckle through his chest, “you smell so nice there. It’s the bestset! Comfiest place ever, ‘specially when m’sleepy.” 

“Are you sleepy now, baby?” You love how smooth the petname falls from his lips. 

“I will be when we get upstairs,” you reply, happy to see the elevator is empty. “I’m just all up in my head.” 

“Is that why you were drinking so much? You said you were gonna stop earlier.” 

“Yeah, but,” you shamefully tuck your head in his shoulder, “I was frustrated.” 

“Frustrated? At who?” concern laces his tone as he struggles to hold you with one hand and fumble for his key in the other. You tighten your legs around his slim waist until the door clicks open, and he immediately walks over to your bed to plop you down. “Babe, are you crying?” he finally has a good look at your face, horrified to see the streaks of tears mixed with mascara running down your face. 

“I wa-was jealous,” you confess tearily, clutching your face in your hands,  “some girls in the bathroom were calling you sexy and that you were only here so you could try to win over Doyeon. I know it sounds ridiculous and you would never do that but. The thought of you getting back with her makes me so jealous and I hate it! I’m starting to feel so guilty about this, all of this. I put all of this on ourselves and I’m ruining it.” 

“Ruining what? You’re not making any sense.” Jungkook places a hand on your knee, crouching down so he can look up at you. 

“I’m ruining us,” you gush despondently, “I’m ruining any potential of us before we even start.” 

Jungkook freezes, hand clutching your knee like a lifeline. The potential of you two together? You’ve thought of that? Jungkook didn’t drink much tonight, so his mind is definitely running on all cogs. 

Coming to a conclusion, he rubs slow, soothing circles on your knee, his other hand reaching up to wipe the tears from your face. “You’re not ruining anything,” he declares firmly, “that’s impossible. I may have agreed to fake-date you because of Doyeon, but I stayed because of you.” 

His heart aches seeing you so upset, and he decides to take initiative to get you out of your clothing and ready for bed. You don’t have any words, opting to let Jungkook take care of you as you try to calm yourself down. He finds a spare t-shirt,  a long one so you’ll be comfortable. He doesn’t bat an eye when he unzips your dress, in favor of balling up the shirt and getting you clothed as fast as possible. He rifles through the bathroom to find your makeup wipes, and he’s gentle when he scrubs up the once pretty makeup you spent half an hour doing. Barefaced and fresh, you look sleepy and ready to crash. 

But before Jungkook can tuck you in, you clutch his arm.

“Jungkook,” you murmur sleepily, “I think I lo—” 

“I know, baby,” he doesn’t want a confession like this, and he’s sure you wouldn’t want it either. You still look a little green and you’re not sober, so he makes the executive decision to pin these feelings for later. “I’m not trying to invalidate you, I promise. I want you to tell me this, all of this in the morning. We’ll talk then.”

“Okay,” you melt in the sheets, pulling the blankets up to your chest. When you see Jungkook move away from the bed, you jolt, “Where are you going?” 

Jungkook smiles, reaching over to tuck you back in, “I left my blazer in Namjoon’s room. I’ll be right back, okay?” 

He walks out of your room as quietly as he can, making sure to close the door slowly. Once it’s sealed shut, he leaps up, giving himself a silent cheer as he bounds down the hall. You like him back! 

The smile on his face is tired but full of fervor as he makes his way to Namjoon and Doyeon’s suite. He doesn’t even care that he probably has to talk to Doyeon to get his jacket back, thoughts filled with the excitement of his requited feelings and going back to his room to cuddle up with you. 

He doesn’t even have to knock when the large double doors swing open. Dumbfounded, he looks down at Doyeon, wearing a tiny black nightie and dangling his jacket with one finger. It’s an outfit that leaves nothing to the imagination, and he feels his neck heat up at the feeling he’s encroaching on an intimate moment. 

“You left this,” she says slowly, a tiny smirk on her lips. 

“Uh, thanks,” he says, making sure not to touch her when he grabs his blazer. 

In her other hand she holds up her room’s designated ice bucket. “Could you also get me some ice, please? Namjoon’s fast asleep and I really don’t want to walk out all… exposed.” 

He swallows his sigh, knowing it’s going to take significantly longer to get back to you when Doyeon drawls like this. “Of course,” he replies tersely, “after all, you are the bride.” 

“Thanks, Jungkookie.” 

He makes quick work of getting Doyeon the ice, pumping his long legs down the hall. The ice room is cold and cramped, barely enough for his tall frame to fit in. He jabs the container in the holder, pressing the button ten times per second to get as much ice out as possible. 

As soon as he turns around with the ice, he drops the whole bucket. 

Like glass, it shatters onto the ground, hundreds of little clear pebbles skimming across the floor like marbles. Doyeon’s pushing Jungkook against the ice machine, freshly manicured hands splayed across his chest. Her body is flush against his, making sure that he feels all of her with her thin silk gown. 

“What the fuck, Doyeon get off of me!” a little part of him hopes she’ll come to her senses on her own so he doesn’t have to put his hands on her. 

“C’mon, Kookie,” her voice is a sickly candy sweet, her eyes wide with hunger as she takes in his form, “just one more night, you and me. Like old times. One more night before I tie the knot.” 

“You’re crazy,” he balks, running his hand through his hair, “this is sexual harassment, do you know that?” 

“You don’t mean that, Kookie,” Doyeon dips a red-tipped nail down his chest, “why settle for someone like y/n when I’m right here?” 

He grabs her wrists, firm. She winces at the contact, but doesn’t say anything when Jungkook delivers her a scary glare. It gets her quiet, fearful of this version of Jungkook. Doyeon’s never seen Jungkook like this before, so unwilling to bend at her whim and emanating all his power against her. 

“Why settle for your cousin?” he whispers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “because, I love her.” 

Her lip curls in disgust, nails digging into the palm of his hand. “But you loved me first.”

“And I’ll love her last,” he spits pack, letting go of her. His anger splits for a brief second, regarding Doyeon with sorrow, “this is low, even for you.”

Jungkook pushes past the ice, wobbling out of the ice room. He doesn’t look back, he just knows that he needs you right now. He needs to tell you everything, figure out a plan to cancel the wedding or something. 

But when he crashes inside the room, you’re dead asleep. He can’t find the courage to wake up Seokjin as well, who returned and is sleeping in his club outfit. He groans, feeling useless as he stares at the two of you, ignorant of what just conspired ten minutes ago. 

And Namjoon, what is he going to tell Namjoon? Poor guy doesn’t deserve any of this. 

Walking up to your side of the bed, he tucks your loose hair behind your ear. You look so peaceful now, so beautiful. 

It’s just going to have to wait until the morning. 

The morning of the wedding, you wake up alone. 

The first thought that runs through your head is that Jungkook has rejected you. The little, insecure bug that will never go away in your brain fills you with rash thoughts. He’s on a flight half way back home and he regrets this whole week. 

But after that exaggeration, you notice two aspirin and a bottle of water on your nightstand, along with your phone that’s fully charged. 

You pull up the screen to check the dozens of messages that flood your app. 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: morning babe, im sorry i had to leave early. Namjoon showed up at our door freaking out that his suit is the wrong fit and shade. Now im running around vegas trying to find a replacement that doesn’t look like an elvis presley extra

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: but i didn’t forget what you said last night, i promise! Just go get ready and i’ll meet u at the chapel outside the resort. 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: i also have something to say to you

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: wow i didn’t realize how ominous that sounds. Dw, everything will be fine

When someone tells you something will be fine, it’s a universal agreement that no, things will not be fine. 

So you get dressed, and put on your makeup mindlessly. You don’t really know what to make of Jungkook’s cryptic message, but you decide to leave those thoughts in the back of your mind as you go to the other rooms to help your family get ready. 

Seokjin is busy tying the ring bearer’s tie, looking handsome with his slicked back hair and polished grey suit. “Morning, cousin,” he sing-songs, “you look beautiful today!”

You smooth out your dress, a cascading silver number with starry sparkles. You feel like you’re living out your magical girl fantasies, wrapped up in layers of tulle and a sparkly sweetheart bodice.

“Right back at you. Say, you didn’t see Jungkook this morning, did you?” 

“No, but I heard he’s with Namjoon hunting for a new suit. Why?” 

“Nothing,” you lean against the guest table, “he just said something really ominous over text.” 

“I will never get a peaceful day so long as I’m in this family,” he says this directly to the ring bearer, a toddler who’s obviously confused at his uncle’s weird sayings. 

Your phone beeps conveniently, displaying Jungkook’s name. 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: just got his suit. We’ll be there in fifteen. Meet me at the garden behind the chapel, please. It’s urgent 

Now you’re just worried. So you tell Seokjin your sentiments, and that he should have his phone on hand in case you needed him. With a confused nod, you leave him to go down to the garden.  

The groomsmen and bridesmaids are already at the chapel taking pictures. Only the wedding party is really allowed at this time, but you manage your way through the gardens virtually undetected. Jungkook’s already waiting for you, hiding under a white gazebo overlooking the hotel’s fountain. 

He looks gorgeous in his all black pinstripe suit, hair pushed back and pants fitted perfectly around his waist and thighs. When he sees you he gets up, full of skittish energy. You note that his hair isn’t even styled, only washed and curling slightly at the ends, as if he’s in a rush.

“W-wow,” he marvels when you rush up to him, “you look gorgeous.” 

You drop the handful of silver tulle, letting it fall to the floor. “Jungkook,” you clasp his hand in both of his, guilt flooding your eyes. You’ve been thinking about this all morning, and you need to cut to the chase. Jungkook tries to open his mouth but you silence him with a finger on his lips. “I can’t—I can’t do this. I know this sounds really stupid and you probably don’t want anything to do with me after this, but I shouldn’t have made this elaborate scheme,” you bite your lip, feeling even more antsy as Jungkook squirms in his grip. He however, is trying very hard to focus with his eyes, confused at your sudden confession. “I like you, Jungkook. I don’t want to parade you around like a revenge plot anymore, it isn’t fair and it’s wrong in so many ways—” 

“That’s great,” he says simply, brown eyes swirling with thoughts, “um, ditto. But—”

“Wow,” you frown, “I pour my heart out to you and this is what I get?” 

“It’s great that you want to be selfless right now,” Jungkook takes your hand, firm and tight, “but without this elaborate scheme, we wouldn’t be saving asses like we are right now.”

“What are you talking about?” You thought Jungkook rushed you down here so you could talk about each other’s feelings before the wedding. 

“Doyeon just threw herself on me last night. I got her ice and she took that as an invitation to seduce me like an episode of Sex and the City. Namjoon needs to divorce her, like yesterday.” 

Your face then morphs into something dark and ugly, and you fling your whole confession out the window. The thought of Doyeon going as far as throwing herself on Jungkook as a last ditch attempt to get back at you, has you seeing blood red. “What? Why didn’t you tell me this sooner!”

“You were asleep!” he shoots back, putting his hands on your shoulders. He rubs warm strokes up and down your bare arms, “please relax. You’re shaking.” 

“And why didn’t you tell Namjoon when you were driving around all morning?”

“I tried to!” he retorts, hands swinging in the air. You huff when his hands land back on your shoulders, preventing you from running to the chapel to extract Doyeon out yourself, “but he just kept talking shit about how much he loves Doyeon and he can’t imagine being together with anyone but her and I felt so bad! I’m sorry I chickened out. I really don’t wanna be the one to break Namjoon’s heart. I’m just the plus one!” 

You pinch your brows, mulling it over. “Fuck it, let’s crash a wedding,” you declare, “where’s Namjoon and how can we get him alone?” 

Jungkook exhales, a hand carding up to loosen his thin silver tie. “He’s taking pictures with the groomsmen right now. It’s gonna be awhile before we get a chance to talk.” 

“Fuck,” you curse, sitting down on the white bench. Jungkook presses soothing circles on your back. “We have no choice, we have to get to him before the ceremony starts.” 

“You’ll have to get through me, first.” 

Doyeon’s not even in her wedding dress when she strides up to the two of you. She’s in ballet flats with her hair and makeup done, but the only thing she’s wearing is the thin underdress of her actual ball gown, a simple silk negligee that reaches her ankles. You don’t even know how she’s managed to escape the bridal party, especially without her dress. 

Feeling protective, you step in front of Jungkook. “Before you say anything,” you murmur, “I’m not ruining your wedding, and I never wanted to. You’re ruining it because of your mistakes.” 

“Oh, boo-hoo,” Doyeon rolls her eyes, playing with her nails, “I didn’t even do anything wrong, everyone knows that on the bachelorette’s night she can do whatever she wants. Namjoon could’ve fucked whoever too if he wasn’t so faithful.” 

“Namjoon is ten times the partner you are and would never do that,” You’re seeing red, unable to comprehend the complete garbage spilling from Doyeon’s lips. “You touched my boyfriend without his consent, and I will never forgive you for that,” your voice is scarlet, angry and thin. 

“It’s not like he isn’t used to it, I—”

“NO!” the sound that comes out of your mouth has all three of you flinching, and you’re thankful the gazebo is far enough so that the rest of the wedding party is oblivious to your actions. “You’re not allowed to justify yourself anymore, Doyeon. What you did was fucked up, what you’ve done to all of us is fucked up!” You realize now that you didn’t need to get back at Doyeon with a fake date, what you needed was this. You needed a reprieve, a chance to lay down your law. “Jungkook was right all along. You are jealous. You’re jealous and selfish and have no shame. You think you own whatever you set your eyes on, but you’re wrong. We’re not objects, we’re people.” 

You walk up to Doyeon, eye to eye. You jab a hand at her chest, pushing her back slightly. You soak up your cousin’s expression, and you watch as Doyeon’s eyes pop out in surprise at your act of boldness. “So you have a choice here. You can either swallow your pride and leave Namjoon at the aisle quietly and save whatever dignity you have left. Take your pathetic ass on the next flight back home and pack up your apartment. Or, we can start a big scene at your ceremony,” you probably look manic, filled with freshly injected power, “I know Seokin’s always wanted to yell ‘I object!’ at a wedding.” 

“You have no proof,” Doyeon glares right back, taking a step closer to you. Your noses are practically touching, but you dig your heels in the white-stained wood, puffing up your chest and standing your ground. 

“Doesn’t matter,” you bite back, “what matters is that Namjoon will doubt you. Namjoon knows we’d never do anything to sabotage a wedding without a valid reason. Even if you do get married tonight, we have Jungkook’s word and proof of a relationship that overlaps with his. I find this option to be far worse because it’s prolonging the inevitable,” you shrug, “I hope you two didn’t sign a prenup.”  

Hot, angry tears mess up her meticulously done makeup. Black rivers carve through her porcelain skin, showing the feelings that have been dormant since been hidden under a facade. Doyeon’s eyes dart back and forth between the two of you. She’s practically vibrating in combined fear and rage, seeing blurry images and memories and regrets of what could’ve been if not for her self-absorption. And finally, your cousin comes to a decision. 

“I hate you,” she emphasizes each word with the most concentrated of venoms in her tone. WIth one last look at the two of you, she stomps away. Instead of going to the direction of the chapel however, she takes the shortcut back to the hotel. 

Her grave words are unsurprising, but nevertheless disappointing. A thinly veiled smile grazes your lips, sadder than ever as you watch your cousin go. “And I pity you.” 

As soon as she’s gone Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to scoop you up, hugging you tightly as you fight the urge to cry again. “Oh babe, that was really hot. The way you stood your ground? That was amazing!” Jungkook takes out his silver pocket square to wipe the stray tears that threaten to ruin your makeup. “You’re so strong, don’t you know that? You did it and I’m so proud of you.” 

As much as you want to revel in the affection, go back and bed and fall asleep until noon, you can’t.  Grasping Jungkook by the hand, you tug him to the chapel. “C’mon,” you say, “we have to corner Namjoon.”

The groomsmen photos are done by the time you get there. Thankfully, the to-be-groom doesn’t look too occupied. His eyes widen upon seeing you two stumble from the garden of all places.

“Oh, y/n. Jungkook,” Namjoon tilts his head curiously at how winded you two look, equally flushed and out of breath. From your state, Namjoon muses that it must've taken a lot of effort to finally get to the groom unattended, save for a few random family members he’s making small talk with, “The wedding isn’t for another hour but I must say, you two look radiant together. Doyeon always thought you’d end up an old spinster-catlady, but I always told her that you’re too beautiful to be single for long,” he pauses to send the aforementioned man a wink, “Jungkook’s a lucky guy. What were you two doing back there?”

“Uh, things?” Jungkook scratches the back of his head, not wanting to reiterate the fiasco between Doyeon moments before.

Namjoon smirks at the ebony-haired man, “Couple things?”  

You can’t take this needless small talk anymore. With a teary groan, you throw yourself at Namjoon. You hug him tight, and you don’t even care when you feel a slosh of his water bottle sprinkle your hairstyle. 

“Joonie,” you bemoan, “please, please don’t leave me. You’re the best not-cousin ever. I know it’ll be a pain to face Doyeon after today but you’re a strong independent man and when you’re ready Jin is single and ready to mingle—ow! Jungkook! Did you just pinch my ass?” 

“Do you really think setting him up with the next cousin is the best idea right now?”

“I figured a little humor would lighten the blow,” you sulk.

“I’m sorry what—what blow?” Namjoon frowns, pushing you away from him. “Y/n, have you been crying?” 

The tears resurface at that moment, like a kettle on overboil. Namjoon’s face is knitted together, unable to grasp at any conclusion. Namjoon feels something grave is upon the sky as he tenderly brushes away your tears with his thumbs before releasing you. Instantly Jungkook pulls you to his chest, patting you soothingly. As much as you two do not want to be the bearer of bad news, the time is now. 

“Namjoon,” Jungkook says, finding the strength that was previously stuck in his throat, “we have to tell you something.” 

Needless to say, Las Vegas is very forgiving when it comes to last minute wedding cancellations. 

The whole wedding party, both Namjoon and yours, collectively feels like a whole ice bucket has been dumped upon your families. You would like to say that the whole issue was handled mess free, but that would be a bald-faced lie. 

There was screaming, crying, hysterical laughter from all sides. Doyeon’s parents were of course furious, embarrassed, unable to calm down a hysterical Doyeon as they haul her on the next flight home. You have a feeling they won’t be showing up to family events anytime soon. 

Namjoon’s family leaves quietly, frustrated, but classy. After all, they know at the back of their heads they dodged a bullet. Everyone leaves except Namjoon however, who isn’t quite ready to go back to his and Doyeon’s apartment. Namjoon invites Seokjin and some other close cousins to stay in his suite until their flight tomorrow afternoon, wanting to be surrounded by close friends and (almost) family. 

As for your family, they decide to find the silver lining. While the chapel was able to cancel the wedding, the reception wasn’t as easy to sway. At the very last second, your grandparents decided to make use of the reception and renew their Golden Anniversary vows instead. The ceremony will be a quick, sweet affair. At this very moment, your cousin Yoongi is getting officiated online. 

And for you? You’re in the place where you’ve wanted to remain all week. A fluffy hotel bed wrapped up with your not-boyfriend. 

Or? 

Would a not-boyfriend be snuggling against your chest like you’re the softest teddy bear in the toy shop? Would a not-boyfriend be hooking your leg atop his lap, forcing you to latch onto him so his hands can roam freely against your soft thighs? 

“We have to get ready for the wedding,” you whine against his hold, to no avail when he only holds you tighter. 

“But your grandparents are already married,” Jungkook whines right back, nuzzling his nose in your head. “This is like an afterparty fifty years later.” 

“I wanna get dressed,” you insist, pushing yourself up, “and we still need to talk.” 

Without Seokjin staying with you, the hotel room feels much bigger and freer for the two of you. Your clothes are scattered on the floor, uncaring of any wrinkles or smears that would get on the delicate fabric. 

All that matters is that Jungkook is still here with you. Doyeon’s wedding is called off, but he’s still lying in bed with you. You want to burn this image to memory, and keep it forever. Jungkook laying in only his white undershirt and boxers, looking at you dreamily as if he’s still in nap-mode. Hair that was previously windswept and exposing his forehead is now out of place, fluffy and sticking out in all directions. His cheeks are flushed with coral-colored warmth, and a little puffy because you two have been sleeping most of the afternoon. 

“Right, talk,” he repeats, letting you hand him his black button up so he can clothe himself. 

You throw off your shirt somewhere behind you, not wanting to face him as you walk to the full-length mirror. “So, I think my feelings for you are pretty clear and out in the open…” 

“Same, I think I made it pretty clear as well.” 

“What? You turn around, looking at where he’s still half-covered in bed. “You did not. I distinctly remember almost confessing my love to you last night. And then this morning, only for you to cut me off and say ‘that’s great’.” 

“Oh,” he stares at the white sheets that cover his lower half. “I guess I didn’t then.” 

You smile wryly, turning back to face the mirror so you can slip into your dress that’s been pooled around your ankles like a silver halo. “Maybe you thought it in your mind and forgot to tell me.” 

That seems about right. Jungkook has a tendency to be a little too passionate for his own good, windswept in thoughts and feelings until they consume him. He hops out of bed, walking only in his dress shirt and socks as he makes his way to the mirror. “Then let me do all the talking,” he says softly against your neck, hands on your hips. 

You shiver when you feel the cold silver of the zipper whirr up your body, Jungkook’s large hands splaying across your back to smooth out the waistline. 

“You of all people would know that being with Doyeon is a trip,” he chuckles into the crook of your neck, “I thought that was what love felt like. Being codependent, jumping through hurdles, trying so hard to please someone who can’t be pleased.” 

Jungkook’s hands wrap around your waist, hugging you tightly. He squeezes you and holds you like the most precious thing in the entire world. Through the mirror, you two are quite a pair. 

“But with you, I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.” 

“So… are you saying you love me?” you fight the urge to bounce around in his grip, the biggest smile on your face.  

“You really just want me to say ‘I love you’ and be done with it, huh?” 

Within seconds he’s pulling you from behind, whirling you around to the edge of the bed. He manages to flouce up your skirts to billow around his lap, sitting you down on his bare thighs. 

“You look like a cupcake, all sprawled up like this,” Jungkook says cutely, peppering kisses in a trail from your chest all the way to your lips. “You look like a huge, silvery cupcake and I love you. It’s so easy to love you.” 

Maybe it was kismet that Jungkook didn’t get to you first all those years ago. Maybe the right time is right here, right now. 

“I love you, too,” you say happily, dipping down to press a long, passionate kiss to his lips. He tastes like love and a happy future. When you pull away, you encapsulate his face in both your palms, regarding him like the sun and stars. “But you know, if we date you’ll never get away from my crazy family.” 

Jungkook snorts, pressing his forehead to yours, “And miss Yoongi re-marrying off your grandparents tonight, the next year of Seokjin and Namjoon running circles around each other, and a lifetime of happiness?” his hands snake under your dress, finding purchase in your soft skin, “not a chance.” 

[destinywillowleaf]

Oh hey look @greentrickster, I actually settled on an Apollo design. With both a composite look (sans the boots because shoes are still a struggle) and the piece-by piece, it's a miracle that I've actually made some vague attempt at a reference. I still have no idea how his hair works but that's a problem for future me.

(Left was done first, then the right.)

One of the things that quickly became apparent as a result of Apollo being the "Dragon's Dog" in this AU(acting as a lookout for the Defiant Dragons when he was younger) was the amount of dog symbolism/ideas that could still appear in his prosecutor design. Like how canon!Nahyuta has his Defiant Dragon tattoo covered by Ga'ran's symbol, obviously SOMETHING similar had to happen here. A glove didn't really feel right though (anything that looks like gloves is just me trying to draw hands), so instead it became something like the tag on a dog's collar.

Some things have yet to be fully fleshed out (colors, coat pattern, what the deal with his vest buttons is gonna be, if he has the Defiant Dragon tattoo and whether or not it's on his palm) but a transcript of the image text (and general rambling from me) is gonna be below the cut.

Trigger warnings in advance: gaslighting (to a degree), manipulation, mentions of death (but no one's physically dead).

LEFT IMAGE, TRANSCRIPT

~~vague concepts~~

-> Apollo is the "Dragon's Dog", maybe symbolism of a muzzle of dog on a chain? -> hair spikes stand up for surprise animation -> not sure if he'll have prayer beads like Nahyuta -> green said lawyer monk rights ->-> looser clothing around joints? (note: second half is cut off in image) -> bracelet on LEFT wrist -> shouldn't look overly fancy. he's put together but not royalty. -> either cloth over shoulder or around waist

(next to the small sketch on the right) kinda looks like a tail...

-> could serve as a way for Ga'ran to "keep him on a leash" and pull him back into line during Revolution...? -> jacket has loose/bell sleeves, tighter uniform/shirt underneath with collar+badge like a dog collar -> i swear he's not a furry in disguise. that's Agent Lang. -> if it is waist fabric it really is gonna be a tail lol. unless outside?? -> ...you know with the way Apollo's bracelet works it COULD be the collar. god how f*cked up would that be.

(underneath Apollo)

-> no eyeshine; regains it once all is resolved and he can be himself again

RIGHT IMAGE, TRANSCRIPT

"Casual"

-> turtleneck -> regular work pants -> "socks & sandals" like Puhray Zeh'lot b/c monk (I don't actually know what they would be called /~\ but I just didn't want to give him regular socks. This is both the "casual" look and the "first layer of outside clothing" look.)

Layer 2

-> vest thing; Ga'ran spider emblem on collar ->-> symbolic of dog collar -> like the glove covering Nahyuta's dragon tattoo -> boots??

(off to the side, top) Ga'ran's spider emblem

Prosecuting Outfit

-> bell sleeves to cover bracelet ->-> secondarily to make him seem younger/unfit for the position -> butterfly design on bottom of jacket is not final; might just be plain -> waist fabric is there to keep jacket closer to body ->-> also easy to grab & pull Apollo back. sorta like a leash & tail in one.

......

The reason Nahyuta's hand was covered was both to silence his role as a Dragon by covering the tattoo, but it also makes Ga'ran present in his daily life as well. Every time he would go to pray, her influence would be there, reminding him who he had to follow orders from. He couldn't separate his faith from the role he was being forced to play. He couldn't keep two elements of his life divided.

The same thing happens with Apollo here. His voice is a huge part of who he is, and sitting right on top of his throat his Ga'ran's symbol. Stifling the things he wants to say and preventing him from being the person he wants to be. She also influenced much of the rest of his clothing choices. The coat is a little big on him (which, really, is to be expected since the Khurainese royal family is on the taller side and Apollo is very much not)(no seriously Amara and Ga'ran are the shortest adults at 5'8", and Apollo is only like 5' without his hair spikes), which serves dual purpose in covering his bracelet and making him seem that much younger. If he weren't glaring so much, he wouldn't look like he was in his 20s. He'd look like a middle school or high school student trying to look more professional in clothes that don't fit right. Because that's all he is in Ga'ran's eyes. He's just a kid that tried to take her down and failed, now forced to serve her and prevent others like him from usurping her place.

It's a way for Ga'ran to continue minimizing the power Apollo has, keeping him in line and following her commands. When he starts to get agitated and acts "out of turn" in Turnabout Revolution, she's able to LITERALLY pull him back and keep him where she wants. She doesn't know exactly how his powers work, but she's aware that it does involve lies. If Apollo is refusing to listen or submit to her words, she will start to lie in order to cause him pain.

...

If that description makes you uncomfortable, that's the point. Ga'ran is not a good person and will do all within her power to keep things how she wants. She knows Apollo can't fight back without risking the lives of Amara and Rayfa, so she's free to more or less gaslight and manipulate him into the prosecutor she wants. Apollo is her attack dog now, not the Dragon's lookout boy. He obeys her commands, not those of his adoptive father and his insurgent group.

And it's not like most of the Dragons would recognize him anyway. As the lookout, he was always wearing a mask and barely spoke a word outside of alerts. He didn't stick with the main group, and most only saw him at the start, and only saw him at the end if it was a successful mission. But Apollo still remembers some of their faces. He remembers the people Dad recruited to fight back against Ga'ran and now he's the one condemning them to their graves on her orders.

Ga'ran holds the cards. There's not much that can be done in Khura'in to oppose her. Really, the only chance of things changing would be Nahyuta coming back, but that's less likely by the day. Coming back without a plan would be a death wish, but with no way to meet up and not have Ga'ran listening in, it's all too easy to let go of the false notions of salvation and accept that things won't change.

After all, Nahyuta Sahdmadhi is dead.

Drowned in a mountain river without a soul to save him. His body was turned to ash to prevent him from being paraded around like it was something to be proud of. His restless soul still wanders this world, because Ga'ran is the reason he is dead. Until justice is brought to her, he will be unable to move on and be channeled.

(At least, that's the story Ga'ran is told.)

(As far as Apollo's concerned, his brother is dead. Why waste time in holding onto hope when the reality of the situation is so clear.)

.....

I know I've probably said this before, but Green I really appreciate that you sorta let me go wild with this AU! It's fun to take a crack at character designs and "what-if" scenarios on how things would change, and explore different character dynamics that result. Granted, I also have the advantage of future knowledge and not being restricted to a limited case format so it's easier to make things connect and expand on characters outside of legal drama.

(also may or may not be drafting up ideas for Nahyuta's Plumed Punisher self-insert OC cause a friend asked and I got Ideas. >:))

[sixteenthshen]

my rant on episodes 31/32

I feel so conflicted about them.

On the one hand, I wanted to watch the shared horse scene so much. On the other,  there were so many inconsistencies and WTF moments. I can't bring myself to touch those episodes again to make more gifs, which is such a pity because WKX falling down the cliff? SO PRETTY. 

Spoilers behind the cut. If you do follow the drama with Chinese fans, you’ll probably have heard the same things like a million times. To save yourself more angst/stress, skip my post. 

The upside is that the director took the fans complaints to heart. They were making edits until 2am last night. I heard it’s already live, but I’m still trying to prepare myself. There’re some things that can’t be fixed >< 

*hopes for the best on Tuesday* 

In episode 11, WKX wanted to tear the Scorpion assassins into ten thousand little itty bits because ZZS had some blood on his lip, which made me mentally scream so much from joy. In episode 31, he  LETS Duan Pengju, that evil dickface(TM) go, just like that? Where's the rage? Where's the anger? Do you see the colour of ZZS's face? Can you see what he's wearing? Do you know what dickface did? 

Although it's a very touching moment when WKX decides to acknowledge the shixiong/shidi relationship, it's super weird that the ghosts are behind. I mean, I suppose it can make sense if we focus on the fact that he's planning to "retire" from being the big bad CEO of Ghost Valley. But it seems careless to expose a weakness in case someone tries to take advantage of it since they have to kill you to get to be the new CEO. 

There's no follow up on the injuries sustained from being tortured by the evil dickface(TM). How could they make WKX seem so callous? Maybe a scene where ZZS asked Wu Xi to hide his injuries from WKX, but WKX's right outside. He overheard ZZS telling Wu Xi to hide it from him, so he pretends not to know. *cue angsty scene for WKX here* 

The only thing related to injuries was when Wu Xi said ZZS could be saved from his self-inflicted nailing. Okaaaay. What about the piercing of the scapula? (穿琵琶骨 (piercing pipa bones) - it's supposed to cripple your martial arts ability until you heal ok) 

WKX suddenly decides to go off and be a career man, which is perfectly fine. But he suddenly has Gu Xiang watch over ZZS like a hawk, not letting him drink. (Seriously, I forgot if this belongs in TYK or if this is yet another thing stolen from Sha Po Lang) Where is WKX showing any concern over ZZS's total loss of 2 out of 5 senses? I ASK YOU MS. SCRIPTWRITER. What have you done to WKX's character??? Poor WKX, poor ZZS. 

And did everyone laugh off the fact that ZZS can't taste, so why should he drink wine? Ok, I can make myself accept this if I remind myself that ZZS would not like people making a fuss and pitying him anyway... (but shouldn't someone, anyone care???) 

We get many hints that WKX has a sneaky scheme, but he doesn't tell Gu Xiang, his closest friend since childhood. He doesn't talk to his soulmate about this either. 

WKX and ZZS's dialogue just before he falls down the cliff... Seriously reminiscent of Silent Reading, when Fei Du makes the same self-flagellating confession & Luo Wenzhou stops him. 

ZZS draws his sword and stands beside WKX. What is going on?! How does he still have his martial arts ability? Did months pass since WKX saved him from evil dickface (TM)? Nothing makes any sense!  

ZCL's hidden weapon is what forces WKX over the cliff. If ZCL did not know about the sneaky scheme, then WTF is this kind of scriptwriting? ZCL's character turned from a good, young child to a prop-causing drama and angst. Even if he felt betrayed, was he not there to see how depleted WKX made himself trying to save Han Ying? Did he not see how WKX tried to keep his shifu safe? Or taught him how to fight? Did ZCL become stupid all of a sudden just to create angst? 

 It only makes sense if ZCL knew about the scheme because of all the info he was privy to, such as Zhao Jing as the villain behind it all (when he heard WKX and ZZS talking). How would he go from knowing that to thinking ZJ should be the new head of the alliance? As a matter of fact, how could Shen Shen?  

Ye Baiyi has to be in on it unless WKX suddenly gained so much martial arts ability in the short time since they last fought. I mean, it only makes sense that WKX got so much stronger because he got injured by YBY, then depleted his strength saving Han Ying. 

So ZCL, YBY, Scorpion King and his buddies, fellow ghosts, possibly Shen Shen... WKX only kept it from the two people closest to him? The two most likely to do something stupid when they find out? *flails at this logic* 

The scene where ZZS's nails magicked their way out of his body... It's so awkward!!! I mean, we're supposed to feel emotional, but the special effects are just awful. I tried not to skip through it, I failed. 

So now what? ZZS essentially sacrificed himself to help WKX complete his goal. He gave up on his chance to be saved to fulfil WKX's pursuit of revenge (and take revenge for WKX's death). And it's all because of a misunderstanding. 

Between ZZS's nails and the ZCL-issue, I'm drowning in dog blood. What happened to WKX and ZCL's characters/personalities???? 

Also episode 32 is VERY choppy, it seems like we’re jumping to scenes randomly, the flow isn’t there. 

I can only say that the "Priest" spirit is gone; it's not a bad drama by any means. I'm still watching & I'm still going to buy the new episodes on Tuesday. But the random angst and abusive scenes inserted without no reason nor much logic are very un-Priest-like. 

I feel a little cheated about the scriptwriter being a fan of Priest. Priest's novels always feature couples who communicate. The supporting characters can come off flat in a drama sometimes because they're so normal. They don't have ridiculous backstories that make them tragic villains, and they behave logically. 

The angst "created" in Priest's novels makes sense. Characters don't suddenly change their personalities so that we can watch something exciting. The "dog blood angst/drama" is the big failing of so many Asian dramas. *CRIES* 

Now, the GOOD & HAPPY STUFF. 

WKX SAVING A-XU. *heart eyes* 

NGL, no matter how short it was, I liked the horseback scene 

There was a cute moment between Qi Ye and Wu Xi, scriptwriter knows how to ship!! & knows how to make it clear who’s gong/shou lol. 

THE HAIRPIN SCENE. IT’S EVERYTHING.

Even though I’m 90% sure the no-alcohol thing is copied from Sha Po Lang... I have so much love for Gu Yun and ZZS that it made me happy. My drunkards <3 

Did I mention WKX looks extremely pretty when he falls down the cliff? How do you fall so prettily? Plz teach me. 

WKX also looks pretty fake-dead. ZZS looks pretty when he’s heartbroken

I ship xiangcao so hard even though I know what’s gonna happen. (Cao Weining & Gu Xiang) They’re too cute.

I love the Poisonous Bodhisattva, I thought the Tragicomic ghost would be my favourite because of how gorgeous she is, but she’s too tragic & not enough comic. Poisonous Bodhisattva is my new goddess.

[ephemerlskies]

constant craving 02 | jjk

⇢ pairing: jungkook x reader

⇢ genre: drabble series, unrequited love, even bigger idiot!jungkook, a n g s t with a teeny pinch of fluff, jungkook's lil lisp IS cannon

⇢ word count: 2.3k

⇢ warnings: explicit language, jungkook's undying oblivion syndrome, incessant pining, dysfunctional communication (or lack thereof), most of this is just arguing

⇢ summary: there are countless things to talk about with your significant other. jungkook, however, had yet to realize how often his conversations with his girlfriend were monopolized by none other than you. and he begins to wonder why others didn't see this as normal.

♪ playlist: constant craving - k.d. lang, bad religion - frank ocean, misunderstood - lucky daye, neu roses - daniel caesar ♪

╰ series index: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 (final)

a/n: this picks up right where we left off! but it's in jungkook's pov... enjoy all the frustrating idiocy :)

part two: choices

He didn't tell you the reason why at exactly six o'clock he found himself slouching on your couch, on the side he'd claimed as his own from the sheer number of times he'd been there before, relieved that Irene took him back, yet a hint of bitterness mixed in from a source he couldn't quite locate. Disappointment? Maybe, however, the reasons why were beyond his humble knowledge. Confused? Well, if he is sure of one thing, it's that he is entirely unsure.

So, when he was about to make his way back to where he should have been, Jungkook made a decision which rippled a feeling that would have been better left untouched. He looked back.

He looked back at you, staring off so decisively into the sky with shoulders rising and falling rhythmically and head tilted slightly left which meant you were deep in one of your elusive thoughts, and he considered visiting the doctor for how his stomach was uncharacteristically turning. It was more than discomfort that was paralyzing his body at the moment, and the way his hand urged to reach out to you proved that his body knew something his heart had yet to realize.

Jungkook, with all his twenty-three years of accumulated wisdom, thought it nondescript to mention that the fight, which suddenly transported him into the home of the only person he could possibly trust for thoughtful and unreserved guidance, was over you.

Three days ago

"Do you think ___ will like it?" Jungkook asked, turning the small, engraved music box over in his hand for the thousandth time, inspecting for any dents or divots that would demote it's worthiness as a gift to you.

"Yes, it's a great gift, hun." Her words sounded wrapped around entirely different words that Irene was too afraid to speak out loud. She hoped her tone could have conveyed that, however Jungkook's ears were far too preoccupied to dig past the shell of her statement.

"Maybe I should get that tote bag, I know ___ has been complaining so much about how they don't have room in their bag for everything."

Irene was trying not to notice the way his eyes hadn't once even grazed her, or how Irene's parents were visiting in a week yet Jungkook hasn't mentioned wanting to meet them, or how this was the fifth time today he's brought up the festivities of you and Jungkook's 'friendiversary', which also happened to land on the same day that her parent's planned on meeting him. When she arrived at that dead end, after making great and avoidant strides, it was time she turned around and faced the partially shameful jealousy she had been running from.

"Jungkook, you haven't even asked me how my day was." Even those words encased something much deeper she decidedly did not want to reveal yet. They delivered with the hope he would figure it out on his own.

"Oh, sorry. How was your day?" Of course, he didn't figure it out.

"That's not the point."

"What?" And afternoon about twenty minutes or so, Jungkook leveled his eyes to her for the first time today. It was then when hints of distress were revealed through the subtle redness invading where the whites of her eyes should have been and the thin, yet visible, layer of tears collecting at the base of her eyes made Jungkook realize something was wrong. "What's wrong?"

"Well..." She paused, taking in all the air she needed to get through this next phrase. "Don't you think it's a little odd that you have been talking about ___ this whole time? I mean, I get it, you guys are best friends, but Jungkook, you haven't even looked at me!"

"Sorry, I didn't know my friendship was such an issue with you." Perhaps he seasoned that last response a bit too curtly since it managed to finally spill those tears once kept at bay in her eyes.

Admittedly, he felt bad for snapping at her. In his defense, she should have known how important this was to him. She should have known how many times the image of you reacting to this gift ran through his mind during moments of the day better spent focusing on the things he was presently doing. She should have known that if your reaction to it was anything less than ecstatic then sleep and concentration would become entirely foreign concepts until he got it right.

Why couldn't she just understand that? Or, maybe the problem was she did understand. She understood it all too well.

"Maybe I do, Jungkook. God! You don't think I see the way you look at ___? You don't think I see the way ___ looks at you?" Her eyes were taking turns counting the drops of tears, eight minus the one that had already dried, that dotted the table and eyeing the napkin she'd been nervously tearing into shreds. Though it was beyond frustrating and exhausting to draw out the painfully obvious, it seemed necessary because it was being carefully illustrated for the painfully oblivious.

"What? That's bullshit, we're friends!"

"Oh, please, Jungkook. Friends don't religiously celebrate a fucking anniversary. Couples do that, people who are in love do that."

Jungkook's mouth hung open, though to no avail, since the words he couldn't even articulate in his head came out as a heavy sigh. All he could think of was your voice telling him what an idiot he was because he certainly felt that way right now. In a flash, he heard that voice of yours and more and more bits of you alchemized after that one detail. Your laugh, the soft nudge of your elbow that he swore he could feel in his side, how your eyes rolled in a way only he could identify as another nonverbal way you said you loved him.

These thoughts comforted him, possibly more than it should have. The pieces of you that puzzled together in his mind only took a few seconds for him to form, however it felt like he spent an eternity trying to picture your face. As if constructing a vision of you when you weren't there was something he'd be stuck doing for the rest of his life.

"I don't know what you're even talking about. I love you." It was, pathetically, all he could say.

"And I can't even blame ___. You were the one who made a commitment to me, Jungkook." Irene collected the bits of paper that once made a napkin into a small pile. "I'm losing you, Jungkook. And it's because of ___."

"Are you going to ask me to choose, because you know that's so unfair."

"I'm not asking you to choose one or another! I just want you to choose me, your girlfriend, for once. Because you always seem to be choosing ___!"

"Choosing? What does that even mean? You're being stupid. Why should I have to choose at all?" As senseless as he thought choosing between the two was, he began to internalize exactly what it entailed.

Through the thickly layered denial insolsting his heart, the idea of losing Irene versus losing you was the small puncture in that denial which gave entry for his true feelings seep through and take control.

Realistically, there was never a choice to begin with. There were no decisions to be made or an alternative option or an opt out of what seemed like some prophetic conclusion. The heart is far too decisive to allow space for anything but what it wants. But, the denial sat on a diligently constructed throne of self-assigned 'friendship maintenance protocols' he had taken ever since he met you.

Such as the way he would avoid too much eye contact with you to maintain a steady heart rate.

How he would conveniently favor the same snacks as you did, because he loved the look of excitement you got when he would walk in with your go-to movie snacks. And he convinced himself he actually enjoyed M&Ms, despite hating them up until the moment he learned you loved them.

The amount of times he mistook hours for minutes when you were with him, and mistook minutes for hours whenever you weren't.

The fact that all his candles just so happened to cater towards your preferences because even when you were gone, he would be reminded of you.

Those, to Jungkook, were just things friends did for each other.

"Well then, let me make it easy for you, Jungkook." Irene left. There was a hollowness haunting the space she once populated. There was a desire strong enough to cut through glass that was simmering up a storm in Jungkook's head.

There was someone that he desperately needed, so he picked up his phone and texted.

Jungkook: can i call?

You: ya sure

Present day

"My parents said that they're so excited to meet you! I'm pretty sure they're gonna give you the whole marriage talk but please ignore them." Irene's cheer was a sharp contrast to the dull indifference of Jungkook.

Not for lack of trying, there were occasional gaps in his memory ever since Irene arrived at his place after having you tell him what to say to her. And he didn't know why, but when you were talking about choosing and wanting to be with someone no matter what, it fulfilled a silent, yet perpetual hunger to hear those words that even he didn't know he needed to hear you say until you said them.

"Yeah, I..." You were probably at home right now, partaking in your daily, self-induced mild coma as he liked to call it since you were a heavier sleeper than actual lifeless bodies. "Yeah. Excited to meet them."

"Babe, is something wrong?" You seemed so sad when he left that day.

Why didn't I ask you what was wrong? He thought, as if you would have been able to answer.

"Nothing's wrong"

"Something's definitely wrong. Just tell me." Jungkook would have been honest with Irene, but he felt guilty for bringing you up. There was no reason to feel guilty about once again steering the conversation back to you, his friend — his best friend and nothing more — unless...

"Something’s definitely not wrong. I'm just nervous about meeting your parenths- Parents." The 's' on parents revealed his effortfully suppressed lisp that he'd been insecure of, that is until you heard it and called it cute.

It was one of those throw away comments that he was meant to forget in a day, even an hour, but that memory was tacked into his brain every time his lisp impeded on his speech. Before, his light cheeks would acquire that crimson flush when any word with an 's' came up through his tongue in a way which would betray him and catch on his teeth that made it sound more like a 'th'. That memory of someone who thought his least favorite quality was, of all things, cute.

"Seriou-th-ly..." He said to you, then immediately began composing an apology that would salvage his own embarrassment more so than your assumed judgement. But all he could say was a meek "Sorry."

"Why are you sorry? It was cute." His cheeks burned, but this time for reasons not affiliated with his lisp

"Don't be nervous. I just said they're gonna love you. I'm pretty sure they already love you." Jungkook thought it was edging on sociopathic for not giving a damn about what Irene's parents thought of him, let alone the idea of trying to get them to like him. That didn't matter as much when you looked so upset the day he last saw you, and all he could do was leave you that way.

"Jungkook, did you hear me?"

"What?"

Irene knew that look. She knew what had secured his coveted focus because it happened almost every time they were together. And as much as she wanted to place blame on everyone, on you, and on Jungkook, she couldn't accost anyone but herself for knowingly falling in love with someone whose heart was claimed quite clearly by someone else.

"Jungkook, I love you."

"I love you too." And he meant it. But, despite his unequivocally shallow observational skills, he knew it felt different, deeper, the way he knew it was supposed to feel like when he said those words to you.

"So, I'm sorry I have to do this." This time, she didn't cry. Almost as if she'd been preparing herself for this inevitability.

Her hand rested on his, memorizing the texture of each line, the smooth backside and the course knuckles, and stored it among the things she'd never get to feel again. Eventually, she'd have to redefine it from the things she loves into the things she once loved. And one day, she'd forget the feeling of his hand and she had to be okay with that.

"What-"

"I really hope you get ___ someday." And she meant it. He wanted to thank her, but that would sound more patronizing than grateful, so he figured the only way to avoid the unfortunate casualty of Irene's heartbreak being in vain would be to somehow convince you to love him the way he's loved you.

After she left, he sat there, phone in hand, your phone number ready to be dialed, his ears eager to hear your voice, his mind ready to admit the things his heart had been secretly certain of for a while, and said softly, "Me too."

Jungkook sat alone, his apartment emptied of the person he should have been chasing after, the person who should have been at the top of his list to call, the person who loved him enough to put his needs first, whose arms he should have wanted to feel enveloping him, yet the person who he could never seem to choose. Irene was a 'should' that would never be his 'could'.

And then, there was you.

a/n: but wait, there's more!!!! i will definitely make this a possibly 4 chapter series w a happy ending for all you fluff-addicted fiends. also didn't want to do the crazy, jealous girlfriend trope because we love women in this household and irene deserves better than dummy jungkook!

[shanaraharlyah]

Never Gonna Be Alone part 2

“Oh, You've gotta live every single day, Like it's the only one, what if tomorrow never comes? Don't let it slip away, Could be our only one, you know it's only just begun Every single day, May be our only one, what if tomorrow never comes? Tomorrow never comes

Time, is going by, so much faster than I, And I'm starting to regret not telling all of this to you.

You're never gonna be alone! From this moment on, if you ever feel like letting go, I won't let you fall, When all hope is gone I know that you can carry on We're gonna take the world on I'll hold you 'till the hurt is gone ”

~Chad Kroeger & Mutt Lange

---

Part 2 of my Dragon Age Inquisition Trespasser fic snippet below cut for possible spoilers.    Takes place during the time skip between cutscenes at the end of the DLC.  

Dorian Pavus x Kartaelin Lavellan

@14daysdalovers Prompt: Breathless Kisses

Image setup and Rendered in DAZ Studio 4.15.  Postwork in Photoshop Elements 8.0.

Bigger Here

Part 1

From behind the pair, two sets of footfalls rushed toward them, one heavy, the other fleet, and The Iron Bull and Sera soon came around into view.

"Hey, Boss.  Looks like you made it in time."

"Hi, Bull, he was here for me, he never needed our help.  He tipped us off in order to save the South from the Qunari attacks and to get me here, to save me."

"Shite!" exclaimed Sera as she came around in front of the pair sitting on the ground.  "What happened to your arm?  Dorian, how can you hold it against you like that!?"  Her face scrunched up aghast at the sight of it.

Dorian raised an eyebrow at the crude elf, "That's where you draw the line, is it?  You'll hand someone a glass of piss to drink for shits and giggles, but you can't abide the touch of a friend's ghastly wound!?"

"I'll have to remember that one," Sera giggled with a grin on her face, "but no, that's not what I meant, and you know it.  Ugh!  Frustrating people are... frustrating!"

"It's alright, Sera," interjected Kartaelin, always the calming voice amongst his friends.  "You don't have to touch it.  Solas removed it to stop the anchor from killing me."

"Double shite," replied Sera.  "So... you're okay now, yeah?  It still doesn't look like it's good, is all.  So, what's next?"

"We need to get him back to Orlais, and to a proper healer," answered Dorian.

"Can you walk, Boss?" Bull asked.

"I think so.  The anchor is no longer wracking my body, there's just a throbbing and occasional pain when I move my arm.  It's odd, there's a distinct sensation that it's all still there, but then I remember..."  Kartaelin moved to get up, but the Tevinter would have none of it. 

"You're in shock, I can't have you falling down the stairs and cracking your skull on the pavement on our way out of here.  Can you imagine, walking into the Winter Palace, 'Where is the Inquisitor?', 'Oh, we allowed him to lead us back after having his arm amputated, and gee, well, he fell down the stairs and into the abyss.  Can you believe it!'  Leliana and Josephine will have all of our heads after the effort they've put into saving this organization.  So, no, I'll carry you.  Bull, can you gather his things?"  Dorian sighed, “Sometimes I feel like I should be in the one in charge."

The Iron Bull nodded and gathered the Inquisitor's belongings.  

"I like it when you take charge," said Kartaelin huskily, the familiar lopsided grin that had been absent these last few days finally returning to his face.  

Knowing where this was headed, Bull ushered Sera toward the stairs amidst loud protests.  As much as he'd also like to stick around and enjoy the show, he knew they needed to get back to the Exalted Council and the healers at the palace, and the only way to hurry the two love birds along was to leave them behind.

"Festis bei umo canavarum!" exclaimed the mage, wiping the remaining tears from his eyes.  "Is this really the time or place for this?  ...You're just lucky that I love you so much."

"I am," Kartaelin replied coyly, wrapping his hand in his lover’s leather collar and pulling him closer to him.  He craned his neck until his lips met Dorian's and he peppered him with soft kisses.  It was the least he could do after worrying him so terribly.  They'd both feared his impending doom on account of the mark, and Dorian took it especially hard.  He'd put up a wall around his heart a long time ago to prevent himself from being hurt by anyone, but the Inquisitor had broken right through, and the thought of him being taken from him so soon tore him up inside.

Slowing his ministrations to one final passionate kiss and savoring the moment, Kartaelin pressed his forehead to Dorian's.  "I'm sorry I worried you so much, ma vhenan.  I never wished to cause you hurt."

"I know, amatus.  I just... I couldn't bear to lose you like this," Dorian replied, choking up again.  "The thought of the one bright spot in my life being ripped away by ancient elven magic, just..."

The Inquisitor reached up to cup Dorian’s face with his hand, tenderly caressing his cheek with his thumb.  "It's alright, Dorian, I'm safe now.  Solas has bought us time, but we have more work to do.  We should get back to the council.  I'll fill you in on the way."  He leaned in for one more kiss before the Tevinter could reply, taking his breath away.

Pulling back slowly, his lip caught playfully by the Inquisitor, Dorian gently gathered the elf into his arms.�� "You are right of course, but what's all this 'bought us time' business?"  With a grunt he stood, the Inquisitor held tightly against his chest, "You are heavier than you look.  Eating too many of those fancy tea cakes Solas likes so much?"

Kartaelin let out a hearty laugh, "I suppose there's no chance of you changing your mind about letting me walk out of here under my own power then?"

"Not a chance," Dorian smiled, heading back toward the stairs and the exit.

"Well, we could ask Bull to carry me if I'm too heavy for you," Kartaelin smirked.

"Truly?  This is how you treat me after the moment we've just shared!?  I should drop you right where we stand," Dorian replied in mock irritation.

"And what would the others say?" Kartaelin teased.

"They'd agree with me, you little shit!" countered the mage.  "Then they'd come back to get you anyway....  Remind me again, why is it that I love you?"

"This IS why you love me," Kartaelin sassed.

Dorian sighed, "Well, you're not wrong.  Tell me, were you always this antagonizing?"

"It's just for you.  You bring out the best in me, Dorian," the elf responded.  "Or the worst, depends on how you look at it.  Either way, you wouldn't want it any other way."

"Maker, what did I do to deserve this!?" Dorian mused in exasperation.

Kartaelin just smiled.  Pressing his injured arm against his own chest, the Inquisitor placed his hand over Dorian's heart and rested his head against his shoulder.

"Oh, the things I'm going to do to you tonight," the Tevinter mage muttered under his breath.

"I look forward to it," Kartaelin quipped, nuzzling the jaw of the man he adored.

"Of course, you do," Dorian breathed.  He still worried about the ‘bought time’ remark, but he trusted the elf wouldn’t keep him in the dark for long.  He had to accept that right here, right now he was holding his amatus in his arms and they were both alive and safe for the moment.

[steverogersbingo]

✨ STEVE ROGER BINGO’S ROUND UP - POST 1 ✨

Check out the fills our participants posted from the first month under the cut!

🎨 ART

heaven isn't in the sky (it's underwater) by agron T // Steve/Tony // Mermaids Summary: when steve went underwater he was discovered by three mermaid tony stark instead

Untitled by ABrighterDarkness G // Steve/Bucky // Alpine Summary: Steve and Bucky get distracted, Alpine enjoys every minute.

Space Stone by AriaFandom G // Gen // Moodboard Summary: Galaxy aesthetic for the space stone

Untitled by sanguineterrain G // Gen Summary: Magical, canon-divergent Steve

Untitled by call-me-kayyyyy G // Steve/Bucky // AU; Fantasy; Loin-cloths Summary: Steve and Bucky are elf's who ride their unicorns to check the perimeter.

Steve Rogers becomes Cernunnos by pinkybitesu T // Gen // AU Summary: Steve had always felt connected to the Earth. Becoming the God of the Forest, Cernunnos, made it all make sense.

"That Is America's Ass." by bleedxblack T // Steve/Bucky Summary: Steve Rogers straddles Bucky's waist with booty shorts that read "it ain't gonna spank himself".

📝 FIC

Clean Up These Bloody Fists by dontcallmebree E // 8,657 // Steve/Bucky // Shrunkyclunks; Mob AU Summary: Bucky can’t decide if Steve’s unendingly generous with his care for those around him, or if Bucky’s simply been lucky enough to scale the wall built up over decades, and had somehow proven himself worthy of the affection. Either way, he knows he’ll never take this for granted. Spend some time with Steve and Bucky this week in the perpetually fluffy ‘verse of Do The Things You Never Showed Nobody.

Scars by Kimberly T // 1,888 // Steve/Bucky // Post-CATWS Summary: The serum means that Steve can't scar anymore, though he's retained his pre-existing scarring. While in the hospital recovering from the fight on the helicarrier, Steve does a little introspection about this. It's bittersweet.

Without Regret by ABrighterDarkness E // 5,284 // Steve/Thor Summary: It had been a very long time since Steve had last felt like this. There was a buzz in his mind and tingling through his body. His movements were just slightly slower, clumsier and his were words spoken a little more loosely with a tongue that felt more weighty than it ought to. Even that, though, felt different than the last time that he’d had the opportunity to overindulge with a friend.

Love and Learning by ABrighterDarkness T // 7,746 // Steve/Natasha Summary: It reminded him, a little bit, of stepping into a machine seeing everything in varying shades of grey. Only to stumble out again into a world of color more vibrant than anything he could have possibly imagined. Overwhelming but entirely breathtaking and welcome.

Good by hawkeyeandthewintersoldier T // 1,062 // Steve/Bucky/Tony Summary: Steve returns to the compound and finds that the two men he loves, but never told his feelings to, are a couple now.

Lie to Me by Kit T // 2,102 // Steve/Bucky // Body Swap Summary: After a mission gone wrong, Steve and Natasha end up trapped in the others body. Instead of telling everybody, they make a bet. Who will be able to conceal their identity the longest?

Dream a Little Dream of Me by buckybleeds E // 5,719 // Steve/Bucky // Dub-con; Self-cest Summary: Steve goes back in time to comfort himself after Bucky fell and ends up having sex with himself. 

Pride by Kit T // 1,726 // Steve/Bucky Summary: Tony wants to take Steve to pride to watch him freak out. Natasha tags along to do damage control.

Take Care of You by hawkeyeandthewintersoldier M // 1,756 // Steve/Bucky // Daddy Kink; Age Difference; AU Summary: Steve has been so busy with his work as a commander at shield lately, that he has barely had time for his partner Bucky. Bucky’s worried his Daddy might not want him anymore and Steve has to rectify this by showing how much he loves his baby.

Love Has Left a Printed Trace by Girl_Back_There E // 1,726 // Steve/Bucky // Vampires; Dub-con Summary: Steve is obsessed with finding a mysterious figure named Winter in paintings throughout the years. James is a Vampire named Winter charged with keeping Vampires a secret from humanity.

with the weight of the world at the tips of my fingers by avintagekiss24 E // 4,420 // Steve/Reader // AU Summary: You and Steve share a morning in bed.

Always You by hawkeyeandthewintersoldier M // 1,691 // Steve/Bucky // AU Summary: After a year of traveling, Steve finally comes home and confesses his feelings to Bucky.

Stop the World by Rex E // 6,828 // Steve/Scott // AU Summary: When Steve got hired to entertain at Cassie Lang's thirteenth birthday party, he had thought it was going to be like every other kid's party he'd booked. He'd show up, play Captain America, get paid, and go home. He never quite gets to that last step, but to be fair, there was no way he could have anticipated the draw of Scott Lang.

Always by Rex G // 437 // Steve/Matt Murdock // Canon Divergence Summary: Even the Devil of Hell's Kitchen needs an angel from time to time. This one just happens to be from Brooklyn.

Glass by Rex M // 859 // Gen // Non-graphic torture; Implied non-con; Referenced suicide Summary: "We'll lose." "Then we'll do that together, too." Sokovia crashed, Ultron won, and he always had hated Tony the most.

We are already home by Bitters E // 4,948 // Steve/Bucky Summary: Steve carries an injured Bucky through a portal into…somewhere else? But they’re together, like they always have been, and that’s all that matters.

end of the line, time to go home. by moonythejedi394 M // 3,484 // Steve/Bucky // Canon Divergence; Daddy Kink; Age Play/Regression Summary: Steve and Bucky always said they were together 'til the end of the line. But even they have to get off the train eventually. Everybody always figures, at the end of the line is... Y'know. The End. But actually, at the end of the line is happily ever after. It just took them a few decades and a couple suitcases of trauma to get there.

Not Technically A Bromance by dontcallmebree M // 8,657 // Steve/Bucky Summary: “A bromance?” Bruce asks, voice tinged with restrained laughter. “Yeah, we have one of those.” Steve glowers at Bruce, who’s patently laughing at him, eyes bright and twinkling with mirth. Bruce composes himself, biting at his bottom lip. “And you’ve had sex how many times?” (Inspired by that tweet, you know the one.)

At the Top of My Lungs by ralsbecket T // 1,646 // Steve/Tony Summary: Two months had passed since Tony had lost his life; since they had laid him to rest six feet under. It was two months of trying to keep his world from further falling apart, and it wasn’t really working in his favor. So, no. No, he wasn’t okay.

Thor’s Art Class for the Heroes of Midgard by WinterSabbath T // 6,338 // Steve/Bucky // Canon Divergence Summary: In which Thor makes it his mission to help mend the broken, cold relationship between Steven and James through the only way he can think of: Art class. As a bonus, he also helps the team loosen up.

So Let It Happen by Bitters E // 2,287 // Steve/Bucky // Canon Divergence Summary: Steve comes home from a tough mission and needs to get out of his head. His husband and retired Avenger is only too happy to help him with this.

Made of Glass (The Way You See Through Me) by ralsbecket T // 1,132 // Steve/Tony // AU Summary: Steve wasn’t sure what came over him when the model walked out from the back room, wearing a robe; from the moment his eyes landed on his face, he was just… awestruck. Dark hair, bright eyes, full lips. He was fucking beautiful. Or, the one where Tony is the model in Steve's life-drawing class.

for your cooperation by xceru E // 3,145 // Steve/Nat // Canon Divergence Summary: Hydra kidnaps Natasha on a routine mission in Cairo. When Steve finds her, Natasha decides that it's his turn to play prisoner.

my heart in the still winter air by xceru E // 11,887 // Steve/Bucky/Nat // Canon Divergence Summary: “He will,” Steve says, and suddenly Natasha understands. This is the man that Steve altered his heart for, the one he thought only the serum could love. But now Steve knows better—he knows he’s bisexual—he knows his love is real, and the man that it belongs to is undead.

Won't Let Go by afalsebravado E // 2,358 // Steve/Bucky // Canon Divergence Summary: Steve is on the hunt for the Winter Sold-- Bucky. He's on the hunt for Bucky when the leads dry up and he heads home to regroup. But a package from Tony Stark arrives on his doorstep and makes him re-evaluate old promises.

The Truth of Who I Am by hawkeyeandthewintersoldier T // 1,203 // Steve/Bucky // Canon Divergence Summary: Steve Rogers is not a cis straight man and he is tired of people erasing that and other parts of his identity so he fits into the image they already had of him.

Bruise of a Rose by marvelousmoons G // 1,710 // Steve/Bucky // Canon Divergence Summary: It’s moments like this that get under his skin the most. The way Steve can just… be Steve. Be dramatic and give Bucky the cold shoulder for simply caring. But Bucky was stronger. He could play Steve’s game. He wouldn’t cave, no. He would sit and wait for the silence to overwhelm Steve first.

... And all I got was this lousy t-shirt by RainbowNerds M // 3,126 // Steve/Bucky // AU Summary: A month ago, Steve had the best sex of his life with a guy he met in a bar, and went home with the most hideous shirt he'd ever seen but no phone number. Enter his new roommate, Becca. The two instances are not connected, right?

Love you too, jerk by WinterRaven G // 636 // Steve/Bucky // Canon Divergence; Fanart included Summary: Steve makes breakfast for Bucky and their 'kids' help him wake up his husband.

[stranger-who-writes-fiction]

Alright HERE WE GO...SOME PRESS!

By which I mean, Tom King was on ComicPop discussing Supergirl! So we have CONTEXT AND BACKGROUND INFO! WOO!

Gonna get into it below, but my recommendation, as always: the best way to have an informed opinion is to get the info firsthand, so don’t just take my word for it! Go forth! Watch the thing! (Language advisory, though. There is some swearing.)

Okay. With that out of the way, LET’S GO!

Gonna lead off with a summary of the Supergirl bits, as they discuss a variety of things, from Strange Adventures to Batman/Catwoman to the canned New Gods project:

How Tom King came to be the writer of Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow:

King’s longtime editor, Jaime Rich, was moved from the Bat books to the Super books. 

King, historically, likes to take on characters that ‘need help.’ He cites the example of Kirby who, upon coming to DC, asked what their lowest-selling title was, which is how he ended up on Jimmy Olsen.

So, when King asks which character needs help, Rich, to King: Supergirl. We have trouble selling that book.

King, describing Supergirl: ‘She’s singular in a way Mr. Miracle and Vision are not.’ Says that if you ask any four year old who Supergirl is, they know.

Editors asked him, ‘what’s your take? what are you gonna do with her?’

King then discusses the difference between his approach to Bat people vs. Super people.

Bat people: It’s a deconstruction approach. King brings up Kite Man from his Batman run. You tear the character down and build them back up, a la Dark Knight Returns

Super people: It’s not about deconstruction. Let them be themselves. They’re wonderful, let them be wonderful. 

But he does mention sort of stripping down the character to their purest form; he describes it as chiseling off the barnacles that have built up on the character, over the years.

Additionally, he says ‘evil doesn’t work for the Super family of characters.’

He mentions Superman: Up in the Sky. He says that there’s deep stuff in Up in the Sky, but the theme of every page is simply: Superman is awesome.

King: “I don’t want to make Kara mean or sad. I want to test her.”

The host compares ‘angry Kara’ stories to ‘evil Superman’ stories in that there are many of them, such to the point that people think Kara is relatable because she’s miserable and angry all the time. 

The host: I don’t get that.

(Same dude, same.)

King talked to Steve Orlando

They discussed the fact that Supergirl knew her planet; the people who died were her friends, family, classmates.

King summarizes Kara’s original Silver Age origin: she witnessed three huge, traumatic losses of life. First, when Krypton exploded. Then again when the Kryptonite started killing Argo residents, and then again when the meteorites destroyed the lead shielding that was keeping Argo safe. 

King: “That’s some f-ing trauma! I don’t know if you’ve read my books, but I love the trauma in characters.”

King thus describes Kara as world-weary, she swears, ‘she has seen some sh*t’.

On the new character, Ruthye:

She’s a child on a vengeance quest.

She’s named after King’s niece, Ruthie.

The pronunciation for the comic character, though, is Ruth-Eye.

One of his sons told him to add the ‘e’ on the end to make it look cooler.

Further discussion of Kara herself:

King noted that there’s sometimes a tendency to be very precious with the character.

King: ‘Let’s not be precious with Supergirl.’

This is not the story of a sixteen-year-old girl discovering the world; King says that Supergirl has been that sixteen-year-old for a long time now.

He describes it more as a move from Supergirl to Superwoman.

Art and Influences:

Talking about the red sun planet that Kara visits for her twenty-first birthday, King says he was reading a lot of Conan, which influenced the look of that portion of the story.

The impetus for getting Evely on the book: King said his editor emailed him, ‘Hey, how about Bilquis?’ King: “And I did a happy dance!”

Evely sent King a mood board of the types of things she wanted to draw; Moebius, Kirby, Wally Wood, landscapes in particular. 

Also, King says Evely is fast! She’s already halfway through the book, art-wise, and King is confident the book will release on time.

The host asked him, following up on King’s description of the book as a fantasy/western, ‘Is this True Grit?’

King: “It’s True Grit inspired. The novel AND the movie.”

If asked to give the Hollywood pitch: ‘It’s True Grit in space with Supergirl as Rooster Cogburn.’

Details about this book, as compared to Other Tom King titles:

He’s using captions on this comic--he’d thrown out captions as a storytelling device after Batman, but he found a ‘good voice’ for this comic.

King was prepared to do his usual twelve issues, but they said no one buys Supergirl comics, so it’s eight issues.

King says that Strange Adventures, Rorschach, and to a lesser extent, Batman/Catwoman, were written at a time when the world felt very apocalyptic.

He considers them to be angrier books; they are about what happens when evil is in our life, and how we deal with that.

Supergirl is the start of the ‘next generation’ of titles. 

It was written during the pandemic, but King hoped that by the time it was released, the pandemic and this very dark time in our history would be past.

He says it’s a ‘roaring 20s’ book. Not about anger, or trauma, it’s about stepping into the future and kicking a**. 

THUS CONCLUDES the Supergirl portion of the interview. 

Okay, so! Now that we’ve been objective and presented the information in a straightforward, unbiased manner...SOME THOUGHTS AND OPINONS!

The thing I was most curious about was how King got the book, so I was EXTREMELY PLEASED to get the full story.

This wasn’t like. King desperately wanting to do a Supergirl book, nor was it DC coming to King like, ‘Take Supergirl!’

Sadly, it was, ‘which book needs the most help right now? In the Superman lineup?’

He even said that Supergirl was kind of just sitting around, no one was doing anything with her/there were no plans.

(So the idea that King stole this opportunity from a woman is not true. There were NO PLANS.)

(Also it’s not based on the FS stuff, I suspect they gave the FS team some ideas from his pitch to work with, as that entire event was sort of a stop-gap/fill-in as they hurried to relaunch their line.) 

Anyways!

My initial thought that this is DC’s attempt to sell some dang Supergirl books? Not that far off! XD

Boy, I hope it works.

(Important to note: This is not news. Supergirl has historically always sold poorly. I’ve heard from actual Supergirl writers that the trades do not sell, which is a huge problem.

So King, who is KNOWN for having really good trade sales, is as solid a gamble as they could probably hope for.

He said Superman: Up in the Sky is his third best-selling trade. A WAL-MART BOOK! Is just behind Vision and Mr. Miracle!

Basically: If this doesn’t work, I don’t know that anything will.) 

As for the specifics of King’s take in particular!

Again...I really want to see it, before I pass judgement on it.

I liked the Andreyko run! And that was pretty edgy! 

Also, we have never seen a twenty-something Kara, post-Crisis. She’s always been a teenager. Thus I’m pretty willing to go along with this approach because it’s entirely new territory.

And it does seem like King is enjoying leaning into the idea of a Super who swears and kicks butt and is just a little ‘done’ with it all.

It might not mesh with my ideal Kara but again. I need to see it, before I come to any firm conclusions. 

Honestly the thing that gives me the most pause? Is that King says this book really focuses on Supergirl, not Kara, which is a more recent identity for her.

(That is somewhat true! The ‘Kara Danvers’ identity is wholly new to the show; she’s always been Linda Lee, Linda Danvers, Kara Kent, or Linda Lang, when she has a secret identity. Sometimes she doesn’t.)

(Also of note: Tom pronounces it ‘Care-a’, like the cartoon.)

(PERSONALLY I like KAHr-a, like in the show, because it creates a phonetic consistency with ‘KAHl-el’ but that’s not really relevant to a comic book. You can mentally pronounce it however you choose! XD)

So, yeah, I like the Kara Danvers part of her identity, I like earth-bound Supergirl stories, but. This isn’t that. Which I’ll need to make peace with, I guess. XD

Otherwise? Tell me a story, Mr. King. Even if I hate it, Evely will draw it beautifully, Lopes will color it masterfully, and that’s half the battle, right there. 

I’m sad King didn’t mention the Gates/Igle run! But I also understand he’s probably been looking at more recent stuff; those Gates/Igle comics are fifteen years old, oh man, oh geez, how are they that old already.

King did confirm that this is 100% in-continuity, and will affect the character going into the future.

But, IDK, given the sort of. Grim beginnings of how this book came to be, what with the reminder that the Supergirl title doesn’t sell well...who knows what the future will look like, for Kara!

I stand by my guess that Kara will graduate to ‘Superwoman’ and the Supergirl mantle will pass to someone else, maybe Ruthye? She might be a bit young, though.

Mmm. What else, what else?

Oh, this is pretty funny, IMO: when King first teased the new character, Ruthye, a bunch of SG fans rushed to google to see if there was any clue as to like. What it could mean.

And they freaked out over some obscure connection where that name appears but hey, turns out! It’s just a made up name! Based on King’s niece!

It’s funny because SG fans never learn, man. Just chill out, read the dang book, then get all upset and huff and puff and blow your twitter house down.

They briefly mentioned the Peter David run; King said the PAD stuff was great.

He’s already teased that ‘treat’ and, okay. Time for some rumination on that specifically.

I’ve read the whole PAD run. It wasn’t my cup of tea, I don’t really like the DnD, angels and demons stuff. Also, it wasn’t Kara; it’s an entirely different character who uses the name ‘Supergirl.’

Also, stuff from that run didn’t age well.

And on top of that, PAD turned out to be...kind of a jerk! As so many folks in the comic industry are.

There’s also...an extremely weird, mean-spirited vibe through the whole back half of the run; I thought maybe I was imagining it at the time, but I recently went back to “Many Happy Returns”, the final story arc of the title, and David’s introduction in the trade...it doesn’t read like a guy who was in it for the love of the character, you know?

All of which to say! I’m not excited about connections to the PAD stuff. 

But I know a lot of fans who love that run, love that version of the character.

So like. Eh! Not for me, but to the folks who enjoy it, I hope it’s cool/fun, whatever it is.

(Still think it’ll be a variant or an easter egg or something, but we’ll see.)

(Oh, hmmm! Evely *did* post a WIP of like. Some creepy skull gate that they presumably encounter...hmmmmm.)

Okay, this is crazy long, and there’s no fun art or anything to go with it--OR IS THERE?!?!?!

BOOM. From Bilquis Evely’s twitter today. (GO. FOLLOW. HER. FOR THE GOOD ART.)

(LIKE!!! I look at this and I just! Can’t! Bring myself to not be hyped as all heck! LOOK AT THIS! AND iT’S JUST THE PENCILS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

God, wish that Supergirl sold better, so we could get a full year of this. HNNNNGGGGGGG.

Oh! That was another thing King discussed in detail; that 8 is way different from his usual 12, in terms of pacing and story. The beats fall at different places (obviously) so it was a bit of a challenge for him.

Actually, now that I’m thinking about it...maybe 8 will be good. Issue 10 just dropped for Strange Adventures, and wow, it has felt LONG. (I mean, the last four? Three? issues are also bi-monthly so that doesn’t help but. Still.)

(Superman: Up in the Sky was twelve issues but half the length, because it was a Wal-Mart book, so it was more like six.)

OKAY! For real, I’ve gone on long enough. XD 

SOON. Soon. June 15th, to be exact. Mark yer calendars!

[cyb-by-lang]

Following that anon’s questioning (and by proxy, your and Beta’s delightful answers) which mdzs/the untamed characters do you two deem as hot?

Long answer below the cut.

Lang: 

Wei Wuxian’s actor in The Untamed is cute, as are those for Wen Qing, Luo Qingyang, and Jiang Cheng. 

But on the whole, I wouldn’t be inclined to pair Kei with a single one of them, because of a) age issues due to generation gap, b) various Plot Shenanigans that kick all of their asses, and c) actual literal death. Also, WangXian OTP 5ever, etc. 

Side note, though: Lan Xichen’s actor in the live action drama reminded me instantly of one of my uncles if he was like forty years younger, and I can’t unsee it. It’s hilarious. 

As for the donghua designs for like, alternative interpretation, the whole thing kind of bothered me somehow. I ended up feeling like I was watching a mid-2000s anime in between all the kinda clunky CGI and the oddly overdetailed designs. I spent a fair amount of time going, “...I can feel where the budget went a bit thin here.” Especially during the various extreme close-ups that locked the camera on, say, one character or another’s eyes. 

As for the manhua, I got uncanny valley’d by several characters. It was weird. 

Beta:  

1)  My aroace ass literally doesn’t even have a concept for “hot” like. I just do not get it. And not everyone does. So like… hey fyi, not everyone experiences romantic and/or sexual attraction and you shouldn’t assume everyone does. 

2) I’m faceblind and literally spent the first watch confused as to who the fuck everyone was because why do they have to all wear the same fucking hairstyle and sect colors. Like. I literally got to the end of the show and went “who the fuck is that???” when they had Jin Zixun and Su She get their plot threads resolved.  (I think it wasn’t until my third watch I realized who they were… which officially made me more forgetful of them than wwx.)

That said. Xichen is the one character I could pick out of a scene on my first watch regardless of his outfit or guan because he exudes Elf-ness in a way that none of the other characters do. So all I needed was the elf-vibe to appear and I knew it was him. And the donghua and manhua designs always make him look very kind. Like a peaceful cow. He was less identifiable in that one. ( Lwj got lost in the lan clan when there was more than one of them in white around, but when around the rest of the group, very easy to pick out. Good design on his own, bad when around the copies.)

The black and red color scheme for our main character was an excellent design choice because even though I had no idea who anyone else was. I could pick him out no problem. The mask also really helped. No-one else wandering around wearing that.

And we can’t forget the angry grape. If there was a purple  >:(  in a scene I was generally pretty good at finding Jiang Cheng. (also he was one of the very very few to have the single bang thing as opposed to two of them, which helped.)

Jingyi and Sizhui in all incarnations need to be more distinct from each other because you want “lans who aren’t twins but look it” you got it here. Fucking same guans and sect uniforms and hair (CQL only). The animated and drawn versions at least give different hair because when they draw things they don’t expect you to be able to tell people apart by their faces (same face syndrome).

(This is turning into a “how to make your characters memorable enough that they are visually distinct”… so I’m gonna stop. But not before I point to the guan and go that was a fucking amazing system for identifying people once I was able to match the various ones to the people.)

[mouseclub]

hi! i took your quiz and got "i hear a symphony" and i'm curious about the other results, but taking the quiz repeatedly is a hassle. could you post them or something? idk man

if you’d like me to, then sure!! fair warning though, i can’t remember if i mentioned it in the results page but the rest are nowhere near as pretty and are mostly kindof silly stories and memories about weird things that have gotten me disproportionately emotional lol. either way, i’ll put them all under the cut :)

claire de lune (but specifically from the danganronpa v3 ost)

CONTEXT: i'm the type that can listen to a song on repeat for literal hours while drawing/writing but one time i listened to this for around 40 minutes while making a drv3 animatic and it ended up throwing me into an existential crisis so fuckin hard i started questioning what i was doing with my life and why i was drawing and i had to turn everything off and go to bed. what this says about you is up for interpretation. godspeed

fuyunohanashi - given

CONTEXT: the last few episodes of given were coming out when the 19-20 school year started and the episode with this song in it came out while i was in class. naturally, i sat there in my 7th period AP lang class and watched it on my phone. problem is, the scene when this song is played shatters me like 50 stacked panes of glass under a hydraulic press and i needed to cry but couldn't because the room was PIN-DROP SILENT. needless to say the moment class was over i made a run for it and cried like a little baby to my confused but ultimately supportive friends. you're a core high school memory and an Emotionally Taxing Bop and you remind me both of wintery cool tones and the silly school memories i wish i hadn't taken for granted. like a snow day except i'm from california so i've never had that sauce. i respect it regardless

everything she wants - wham

oh god the memories. this one was from when i was really head over heels obsessed w this dude and at my peak yearning hours i wrote a wattpad journal entry saying i was gonna listen to this song on repeat until i "fell out of love with him." i forget the details but i guess i did? what this says about you i have absolutely no idea but the song is still a whole vibe and you remind me of funky shades of pink and purple so i respect u immensely

unforgettable - natalie & nat king cole

this ones SUPER fuzzy in my brain but the weird nostalgia from my childhood combined with the weird movie end-credits vibes of this song make me forget that i'm a person when i'm listening. plus the weird calmness but sense of Oh God This Feels Like It Belongs At The End Of A Movie makes me feel like im about to get game-ended which is unnerving. probably the most subtle yet deeply cursed entry in this quiz. i see you

this side of paradise - coyote theory

CONTEXT: this song reminds me very specifically of a few of my comfort characters/ocs and when i heard it the first time it shattered me like glass (but in the good way). im telling you right now youre a BEAUTIFUL soul this is the one entry that's in here not because i was overwhelmingly sad but rather overwhelmingly Oh God Im So Fucking Soft And I Need To Cry About It For Twenty Minutes. anyways i care you thanks for quizzing

jet lag - nct 127

CONTEXT: last summer i got on a flight for the first time since i was a small child and i was STUPID scared but i listened to this during takeoff all 4 flights and let me tell you. did not help. the song itself is chill and you probably are too, but there's always a lingering sense of dread underneath i simply can't shake. do with all this information what you will.

verbatim - mother mother

i used to listen to this song to cheer up bc the lyrics are Haha Funny and it fucking bops but then i got evicted from my childhood home and it... stopped working. this breakdown is one of my core memories so congrats! ur one of the only motherfuckers in this joint that can handle me. if you take anything away from this know your vibes are IMMACULATE and i appreciate you

heaven - exo

CONTEXT: my synesthesia used to go absolutely bananas to this song bc its so YELLOW and the shapes that bounce around in my brain are very pleasant, but a few years ago i was writing fanfic and i wrote the scene where i killed off a character to this song on repeat for an hour and it has never been the same since. it's like when you look at something's surface and it looks pristine but you just Know there's something writhing underneath... but a less intense version of that feeling, because i know it's just the memory i tie to it that makes me feel this way and the yellow vibes cancel it out yknow

scrawny - wallows

this one's pretty short and stupid. i started thinking about a stupid anime boy that i thought had basically died while listening to this song and fuck bro. he really was a scrawny motherfucker w a cool hair style. cue the waterworks. but then after an entire day of on and off mourning i found out he turned out ok and stopped. no i will not elaborate on which boy i am holding onto my last shred of dignity here. what this says about you i'm not sure BUT youre probably cooler than me and your vibes are immaculate i know it in my heart

i hear a symphony - cody fry

this breakdown was yesterday! i was reccommended this song by a friend and immediately fell in love, but it didn't fully hit until the song's climax. and let me tell you. it BROKE me. the a capella beginning, with the piano slowly coming in, then the strings, and suddenly it's growing and crescendoing and-- there it is. my synesthesia goes wild and i lack the language to describe what it looks like other than absolutely grandiose and gold and christ i'm rambling but despite it's simplicity-- or maybe BECAUSE of its simplicity-- if love were a song, it'd be this one. almost all of the other entries are funny anecdotes where i seem to cry about the silliest things but this one i genuinely cannot come up with a joke for and i'm probably biased right now because i'm listening to it on repeat again but damn. you won. you're golden.

[nightowlgunner]

Her

It was like June 2020 when I started playing with Kristine. That was also the time na she got laid off so we got the chance na magkalaro sa game full time. It was also the time na, I slowly opened up to her. Because I have strong walls eh, I do not let people come in my life easily. Since Kristine looks sincere and a listener to me, I gave her the way to get in. I talk about my rants about how my day goes and my relationship status with Joan. There is something about her that makes me want to know her more. There are many things na napagkakasunduan namin that leads to laughing and feeling na magaan lang kausap. I also liked that she is interested in the Game that I am playing, We shared things from the moment she started playing pc games back then, her ex gf's, her dramas in life, her fam, her girlfriend but not too much of it. She shares her problem too, the same goes with me.

Back then, I got curious about Kristine because of the stories that I have heard from Joan about her and her ex-gf and the toxicity of her relationship with Rose.

I admit she got my sympathy. Reminded me of my past relationship and how she handled it. Later on, whenever Kristine goes back here in Manila for a vacation, she always invites us. So I have no choice but to go with Joan though I am way too shy na makihalubilo sa mga tao.

By the first time that I met Kristine she was with her ex-gf Siena. There was nothing special or any thing that I felt. I was just nervous meeting her. Idk. Because I feel like she is intimidating. It was just a stage of knowing her, but she was nice naman. That time I remember Joan blocked her on my fb friend's list because of some reasons that i am not sure of, like Jealousy. Joan is always jealous which make me feel like hindi ako katiwa tiwalang tao. Lol. Grabe lang. And since then, Kristine unblocked me.

Way back 2018, I casually message her, like saying Hi, Hello, a little update of my day, and a little sharing of how me and Joan is doing.

I remember that it was also the time that she is trying to open up about her problems with Siena and so i made a GC where me, Joan and tine are messaging so she will not think too much back in Dubai.

I think she was on the verge of breaking up with Siena?

I have work back then so our exchange of messages was not that constant.

Joan used to rant at Kristine about me and how our life have been, which I do not like. Kasi nahihiya ako na kailangan pa ilabas ang mga bagay bagay na hindi naman dapat. There are times I feel uncomfortable kapag sinasabihan din ako ni Tine about our probs. But i just shrugged it off na lang.

It was also the time that I am focus to Joan too.

'Til Pandemic came. I am so happy may kalaro na ako sa game and that is her. Most of the time we play during afternoons, we also got the chance to try voice call each other on Messenger.

Then there goes the story, we talk a lot, shared a lot and our game time is way fun because she is a good team mate.

She was a good listener. And she understands me. Not all the time she is in favor of me, there are times she helps me understand things.

But most of the time, She makes me feel valid.

August came and Joan celebrated her birthday.

September and I celebrated mine, and I received a gift from her, it was a cake. She told me in Whatsapp that it was for me only. She just made it look like it was also for Joan since she never gave her any present last month.

October came, and I decided to make a surprise for her birthday, I'm talking about Kristine here. And so I did. We call her through VC in Messenger and I greeted her in my Facebook Gaming page, and made an appreciation post for her in my IG, which she really liked.

November came and I broke my thoughts to her. It was my nephew's birthday, Ethan.

I told her through Whatsapp that I liked her. That I liked her back then because of some reasons like, She went through hell in her relationships yet she stood up, etc. and my curiosity ate me.

I told her I might not feel uncomfortable talking to her because she already knew my secret that I like her. Then Kristine said, Bakit naman?

I asked her am I not likeable? She answered me, it's not that I am not likeable, she also said that she knew that I am a good person, and she reminded me that it was wrong. I told her I have no intentions of ruining her and Kamille. I just wanted her to know that I liked her, period.

Then we played a game, shared some secrets and stuff, because I started to trust her na.

Then as days goes by, we play constant and we talk mostly.

She even shared to me the time she went to sleep over with workmates because Kamille and her had an argument. We had our first Video Call in Messenger the next day before she go to work. Send me photos that I asked her too cause I am not seeing her lately.

We still talk even at her work hours, I listen to her work rants and stuff.

Then came an issue of this gaming headset that she wants to give me without malice as claimed by Kristine. Joan did not like the gesture. So, we talked secretly and talk about it. We agreed not to pursue the headset anymore.

December came and yah, we still play. I found out she resigned at her work.

I had an issue with a basher of my page, so I have to deactivate my gaming page and make an investigation who the hell is she.

So my attention draws closer to the game itself and also Kristine. and stop streaming for a while, She decided to install the Global server instead of using Garena for months because she is running out of VPN's to use for free anymore.

I felt like we have this kind of understanding where she gets me. And she agreed. But sometimes she sends me mixed signals.

I came to a point where I became confused.

I felt the need to share this because I am having these "time bomb" like feelings that if I cannot find a way to consult it to other person i am gonna explode and became clingy at her.

So I brought my classmate back in High School named Annarie, who prefers to call herself Pacsy. We play in Garena sometimes and we chat in Messenger too. I shared her my thoughts about Kristine. And I decide to her to be like the observant of the girl I liked if she feels the same way to me.

There are times that I felt jealous whenever there is a guy flirting with her on the game and sometimes she makes me feel that she is jealous too when I do the same.

And then came February, we had an argument.

My thoughts went confused, concern at Pacsy, and at the same time jealous.

Felt bad because we made a promise to each other to be open and not keep secrets. But things fail.

I broke down and cried.

Then came Joan who confronted Kristine, and Pacsy without me knowing it because I was asleep when Joan hacked my phone. I lost all of my phone datas and apps.

And I did not like it. Joan should have talked the proper way but instead choose to hysterical all the time.

She discovered that, there is something between me and Kristine based on our exchange of chats in Messenger.

Since I'm woman enough to admit my fault, I did.

I admit that I fell to Kristine.

Joan blocked her in my Messenger first.

And next is IG.

CODM became an exception.

It was a week of pain and confusion and discoveries.

I have discovered that She admits that she felt the same way for me.

That she doesn't want to lose me too.

That I am important to her, that she thinks of me by the time we lost our communication for like a week and more.

She was the one who initiated a contact.

I knew in my heart she wants it.

Let me just have a detailed flashback:

FEB 17: That night, we played, me, Pacsy and her. Dhanush invited me. I said sorry to them. And Kristine drop this line that it will be the last time she will talk to US. So I distant myself.

FEB 18: It was like 5pm, I called Pacs and I apologized to her of what happened and I cried because of what I feel in my situation. I told her, it was so hard to tell Joan that I fell in-love with her friend.

I asked Pacs not to update Kristine about me anymore because I wanna distant too.

FEB 18: 10:30 PM Pacsy texted me that Ktine asked her a favor to tell me that Joan is attacking her on messenger. I just said, it was noted.

FEB 19: Vertigo attacked me.

FEB 26: I received an XP rewards from Kristine. Just to be clear, giving away XP rewards is customized, you are the one who will choose who to give it to. And with that gesture, I knew in my heart she wants to talk and play with me. The past days Dhanush has been chatting me whenever he is playing with her. I told Dhanush I cant because she does not want to talk to me anymore and I wanna keep my distance too.

FEB 27-28

I played in CODM that night and I message her in the app, and invited her to play. Just a duo. At first she said, "Hi joan." then I told her, "Hindi nuh, hahaha." Then we play both off mic. And I notice she is messaging me while playing and says she misses me. "imy" I asked her "Kumusta" etc. At first I did not want to answer back I miss her too, because I am doubtful that it might be Kamille who's playing, but again, I knew it was her. So I told her, I miss this duo. Then she replied ":(".

Its like we had 2 games only, I said goodbye yet she tried to invite me again for another round for a squad with Dhanush but I have to leave the app and so I did.

FEB 29

We talked in CODM Global server app. We did not play instead we just talked. She told me she created an account in deviantart.com which is a website for artists, I actually have account there for art purposes. However she cant find my account there so I suggest how about Twitter. She opened up to me that day, as I remember, she apologized to me of the things she have done like how she cracked my secret to Joan etc. She said she does not normally say sorry to anyone yet she is doing it for me that day. I asked her if, "hindi ba kapani paniwala kapag ako ang nagsabi na mahal kita?"

She answered, she feels things the same way. She understands that my IG stories was for her mostly, and I claimed it. She told me she was scared to lose communication with me, that sometimes she feels like she's using another person just to get connected at me. And I get what she is saying. She said that she felt something for me.

I am sorry but the words we shared felt like... there is something.

Days have gone by, We played again. However I am hiding it.

I made a letter for her by using a website app. I told her everything there.

We also both made a Twitter account. Obviously, we missed each other.

[afewmarvelousthoughts]

Only For A Moment Ch. 46

Master: @afewmarvelousthoughtsadmin

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Summary: For most of your life you’d been able to keep your abilities a secret, that is until Hydra got wind of you. After years of being in their clutches, you break out when The Avengers expose SHIELD/Hydra. Since then, you’ve been on the run. Things are going as well as you could hope when you see a familiar face… Could the Winter Soldier really be in Bucharest too?

Warnings: Canon violence, blood, trauma, feels

A/N: SURPRISE! Remember how I was like there are two more chapters (making this the final one)? Remember how I’m a liar? Yeah. Good times.  There is one chapter after this that will put a bow on this long and winding part one of OFAM. 

I’m deep in my feelings. I hope you all enjoy it. 

And, of course, shout out to @wonderlandmind4​ for being my beta and supporting my bullshit. (God read everything she does it’s wonderful.)

Tags are open!

When Steve offers to drive to the rendezvous with Sharon Carter you aren’t inclined to argue. You’d passed out the night before but it was nowhere near enough. 

In the back of the Beetle, you curl up next to Bucky, not that there was much choice. He tucks you under his arm and the sound of his steady heart paired with the motion of the car lull you back to dreamless sleep. You don’t stir until you hear Steve’s door creak open. 

Bucky shifts a bit next to you, clearly uncomfortable in the cramped space, trying not to jam his knees into Sam’s back as Steve had to him the night before. Glowering a bit at Sam for clearly ignoring his situation. 

He looks in the rearview mirror at Sam, “Can you move your seat up?” His tone measured, clearly trying to sound polite despite his annoyance. 

“No,” Sam says completely deadpan, not even bothering to meet Bucky’s stern gaze in the mirror. 

Silence lingers. Bucky attempts to shift just a little closer to you though there’s nowhere to go. You look between the two men and a laugh bubbles up. You try to contain it but Sam’s expression pushes you over the edge and you cackle, the sound filling the car. 

“You are the smallest person here so I don’t want to hear a thing from you.” His tone is serious but you catch the faintest glimmer of a smile in the mirror. 

Your laughter fades into an uncomfortable grimace as soon as Agent Carter turns her gaze to the three of you. With a tight smile on your lips, you lift your hand in a weak wave.  

“A wave, really?” Sam throws a sideways glance your way. 

“Just trying to be polite.”

“From what I hear you beat her ass yesterday. I think polite is out the window.” Sam gets out to help Steve with the gear. 

“Why’d you attack her?” Bucky asks. 

“She was going for you.” 

“Not like she didn’t have a good reason to.”

“Yeah, well-” you shrug- “I also headbutted the Black Widow so I’m down two for two on my girl power points.” He chuckles pressing a kiss to your temple. 

With the car stuffed with bodies and gear, Steve steers you toward the airport. The closer you get the heavier the silence, each person wrapped in their own fears and concerns. 

In an attempt to calm your racing thoughts you lean your ear back against Bucky’s chest, counting the steady beats. It doesn’t do much but remind you just what you’ll do, what you’ll sacrifice, to protect this heart. 

The moment Steve parks, you feel your stomach flip. Your gaze flits to Bucky’s only to see him looking down at you too. Sam and Steve step out but the two of you linger for a moment, knowing it may be the last time you have alone. 

“We’re gonna get through this. Together,” he says it like he’s trying to convince himself as much as you. You try to take a deep breath and nod. 

“We should-” 

“Yeah,” he cuts you off. 

You reach forward to push the driver’s seat up. He pulls you back kissing you deeply. Breathless his lips hover above yours. Your heart skitters, the intensity in his gaze sending chills down your spine. 

Though you both want this moment to stretch, to last forever, you know it can’t. Begrudgingly he pulls back, allowing you enough room to extricate yourself from the cramped quarters. 

As you get out you catch the gaze of someone you recognize from Avenger’s coverage to be Clint Barton. He looks from you to Bucky, eyebrow cocked up in a knowing gaze. Feeling like a kid who’s been caught making out behind the bleachers you quickly turn away, rounding the car to stand beside Bucky as the five of them continue to chat. 

He slides his hand in your’s giving it a squeeze before interrupting, “We should get moving.”

Before anyone can respond a voice crackles over the airport intercom. As the announcer repeats the evacuation notice you glance up at Bucky, the muscle in his jaw twitching. 

“Stark,” Sam and Steve echo. 

“You’re not wearing that?” Clint nods to Cap, a smirk on his face. Steve shakes his head and pops open the trunk, stuffed with their contraband gear. 

“Let’s find someplace to get our bearings,” Steve says as he hands Sam his wings. 

You all hunker down in what seems to be a large custodian closet. There’s just enough space for you all but no extra room for modesty, not that it matters much to you. 

Geared up, everyone makes quick introductions, to both each other and who or rather what you’re all facing. The details out of the way Steve begins to layout a plan of attack as best he can, given the limited information available.

“We’ll split,” Steve says. “Bucky, you and Sam head into the terminal. If Stark and the others are here they’ll have the jet. Find it.” Bucky slides you a sidelong glance, drawing you closer, but doesn’t protest. 

“Wanda, you and Clint stick together and be my distance support. Scott, Y/N, you’re with me. They don’t know what either of you can do so the element of surprise will be useful if it comes to that.” 

Steve looks at everyone, every inch the leader, “Ready?” Nods from all, “Let’s make this as quick and clean as possible. No one needs to get hurt.” 

Before you head to follow Steve Bucky pulls you to him suddenly, his kiss fleeting and a touch desperate. His mouth opens as if to say something but he shakes his head. Lifting your hand to his lips he kisses your knuckles. As soon as he releases your hand you turn on your heel and sprint to catch up with Steve, too afraid that if you stop or look back that you’ll lose your nerve. 

From your position behind a storage container, you can clearly hear every word that falls from Tony Stark’s pompous mouth. Somehow each syllable makes you angrier than the last. You know Steve is just stalling but you have to actually hold your tongue between your teeth to keep from telling him to fuck himself.

A voice that sounds far too young to be here hits your ears and you almost peek out. Bigger fish, Y/N, you coach yourself. 

Finally, Sam’s voice comes through the comms, “We found it.” 

“Alright, guys,” Steve says. 

This was your go. The tension in your muscles release, and you spring to the top of the container and over to Steve, your feet never once touching the ground. 

“Who the hell?” The guy you assume is James Rhodes says. His body language showing the surprise you can’t see on his face. 

You couldn’t blame him. Lang, lands by you and Steve, handing him his shield, now back to his normal size in a matter of seconds. It was impressive and a little jarring to even you. 

To her credit, Romanoff doesn’t look the least bit phased. She gives Lang a once over, clearly trying to assess him. When her appraising stare falls to you, you’re a bit surprised to see more admiration than anger in her expression considering your last encounter. 

Stark, however, wastes no time. He heads for Wanda and Clint while Rhodes clocks Bucky and Sam’s position. 

You’re ready to move on Rhodes when King T’Challa growls, “Barnes is mine!” 

“The hell he is!” You wrap your power around his torso as he sprints for the terminal, tugging him back hard, as Steve launches his shield at T’Challa’s back. 

“Cover Rhodes,” Steve says as he pursues T’Challa. 

There isn’t time to argue though you want to. You can better handle someone with air proficiency and Steve is better suited for the ground. Still...

“Got it,” you grudgingly acknowledge turning to face Rhodes as he pulls out an oversized stun baton. Could he have picked a weapon you hated more?

“Look, I don’t know who you are but… I really suggest you stand down,” he says. 

“Thanks for the suggestion,” you say, a shit-eating grin plastered on your face. 

Ensnaring the baton in your grasp you pull it from him. Simultaneously you land another invisible blow directly to the middle of his chest that sends him spinning back. The baton comes straight into your waiting palm just before he rights himself. 

“What the hell?!” He exclaims once more as you brandish his own weapon. 

“This thing is hefty-” you give it a once over- “overcompensating?” 

“Real funny,” he quips before shooting straight for you. 

He’s fast, but a big target is easy for you to get a feel of. Thrusting your power before you like a net, he slams into it. The reverberations of the impact thrum through your brain, pain sizzling at the edges of your vision. 

Pushing the discomfort aside you lift yourself from the ground, propelling yourself up and over him by stepping on his helmet. Pulling your power back he tumbles forward, you lasso his ankles, slamming him to the ground as you land behind him. 

The instant he moves to turn you swing the baton with all your force, landing it in his shoulder. Between the impact and the electricity, it manages to short the suit--at least for now. 

You’re going to have to tell Bucky he was right. All those hours of training did pay off. Damn. 

“Uh… can we get some assistance,” Sam’s voice pipes up in the comms. “We’re a little… tied up.”

“Heading your way,” you respond, sprinting toward the terminal. 

You try, you really do, to not laugh when you see them. Despite your best efforts and the absolute shit show of this entire situation you fail. The two of them are stuck to the ground with the same substance that spider kid had shot at Steve. 

“Really boys? You let a 12-year-old get the drop on you?”

Bucky stands, brushing the webbing off his arms. “He may be a kid but he stopped my left hook like it was nothing.” Your brows raise in surprise. “Who the hell would bring a kid into this?” Bucky’s expression is black with rage. 

“Stark,” is all Sam says in response. 

The three of you hustle from the terminal, running full tilt to catch up with the others. You coalesce and for a moment it actually feels like you’re going to make it to the jet, like just maybe this is going to work. That fleeting hope is severed when a beam from somewhere above you blasts a literal line into the tarmac. 

You stumble back a bit into Bucky’s arms. He presses you tight against him as you both look up to see someone straight out of science fiction--Vision, Steve called him. 

Even with the quite literal line drawn you all know there is no turning back now. There is too much at risk if you do. 

Bucky’s arms tighten almost imperceptibly before releasing you, gesturing for you to take Wanda’s side. You do so, the two of you exchanging a meaningful glance. 

“What’d we do Cap?” Sam asks, though his tone says he knows the answer as well as the rest of you. 

“We fight,” Steve replies joylessly. 

Everything that follows happens so fast. 

You and Wanda fall into a fast rhythm, tag-teaming the aerial targets by lobbing projectiles in an attempt to ground them. While your aim is excellent her force far outweighs yours. 

“I’ll hold you land the hit,” you call to her. She nods. You grip the kid mid-swing and she slams a piece of debris into him knocking him down. “Damn you’re good!”

“You’re not too bad either,” she grins. 

Before you turn your focus to Rhodes you glance around to spot Bucky. He’s going hard blow for blow with T’Challa. 

Wanda and you exchange a glance. She nods and you split. 

Running at a dead sprint you try to catch T’Challa’s next blow before it finds it’s target, but you’re too slow. He lands a kick that sends Bucky careening into a stack of crates with a sickening crack. 

T’Challa stalks forward, blocking your view of Bucky’s collapsed body, with claws out. There is no time to consider if Bucky is even conscious. He’ll kill him, is the only thought you have. 

Sending your power out to T’Challa, you’re surprised to only find purchase on the surface, unable to sink under his suit to do any internal harm. It doesn’t matter though. 

Mustering a level of force that sends shivers through your body you hurl him away from Bucky. T’Challa rights himself in the air landing gracefully, claws sparking against the concrete, as you place yourself between Bucky’s unconscious form and him. 

“You,” he growls. The word barely hits your ear before he charges. 

His attacks are painfully quick with a fluidity you’ve never encountered. Even Bucky wasn’t this good. He lands several blows but your power reacts instinctively, cushioning them enough that you aren’t brought down. Soon you are able to hone in on his rhythm, managing several good moments of contact yourself. 

“This isn’t about you!” 

“It is if it’s about him,” you spit back. 

He roars in frustration, his leg swinging to kick your feet from under you. It’s the slightest bit less refined than his other moves, nowhere near sloppy but it’s enough that you’re able to clock it quickly. You kick away from the ground, landing behind him. 

This gives you the advantage you need. You manage a well-placed blow to the backs of his knees and he falls forward. Winding your power around his middle you squeeze tight enough to hear a small gasp and force him away. 

You only glance behind you for a breath, just wanting to see if Bucky was ok. The relief from seeing him get to his feet doesn’t have the chance to sink in. Turning back all to the fight before you all you register is a block blur before searing pain tears through your chest. 

“Y/N!” Bucky screams. 

But you don’t make a sound. Your eyes are fixed on the splashes of red spattering the concrete as you hit your knees, still not registering that it’s yours despite the pain. A shaking hand rises to your chest, coming away covered in blood from four deep gouges.  

A feral sound draws your eyes up to see Bucky attacking T’Challa with a ferocity you’ve never seen. Still, he holds Bucky back until you see a red cloud grab hold of him, throwing him away. 

“Doll!” Bucky calls out, running to your side. He grabs your shoulders, jostling the wounds on your chest. 

Now you scream. 

“Fuck,” he breathes. 

“I’ve got her,” Wanda’s voice from behind you. It’s strange to be moved like this by a force that’s not your own. Wanda’s power—red, warm, tingling like static—gently moves you, resting your back against the crates Bucky had been thrown against a moment before. 

“Y/N’s down,” Bucky says in a tight voice. 

“I’m ok,” you say through clenched teeth. “Go.” Wanda gives you one last look before listening. Unsurprisingly Bucky doesn’t budge. “Bucky-”

“Don’t,” he cuts you off, unable to take his eyes from the wounds in your chest.

His hands hover awkwardly over you, unsure where to touch you to avoid causing more pain. He settles on resting a tentative hand on your thigh. When he finally looks you in the face his expression is something you’ve never seen—a terrifying combination of utter fear and abject rage. 

“Holy shit,” Steve breathes as he crouches next to you both. 

“’ Tis but a scratch,” you say attempting to sit up straighter. Bucky’s eyes narrow. “Seriously, I’m going to be fine.” And you suspected you weren’t lying, the blood had already slowed some even if it hurt like hell. 

“How’re we gonna get her to the jet?” Steve asks. You’re a little touched by the deep concern in his tone. 

“We aren’t,” Sam says over the comms. 

“What?!” Bucky bellows so loud you flinch. 

“There’s no way all of us are getting out of here,” Sam responds. 

“As much as I hate to admit that Wilson’s right-”

“He is right,” you cut off the rest of Clint’s words covering Bucky’s hand with yours. “You two have to go.”

“No,” his voice shakes. 

“We’ve got her back,” Sam reassures. 

“Absolutely,” Clint says backing him. 

“Don’t ask me to do this,” Bucky choaks out. 

With a shaking blood-stained hand, you push a strand of hair from his eyes. “This is bigger than us.” 

“Dammit,” he says through clenched teeth. “Fine. Ok.” 

“Alright, Lang,” Steve confers over the comms, having been laying out a plan while you convinced Bucky. “On your mark.” 

“Help me up,” you ask Bucky.

“You really should-”

“I’d rather be on my feet.” Begrudgingly, he helps you stand on shaky legs. 

Leaning into Bucky for support, you watch in wonder as Lang becomes the size of a jet. An awestruck laugh bubbles up before you can stop it, moving the muscles in your chest causing you to hiss in pain. 

“Y/N?” Bucky asks, tone frantic. You pat his chest reassuringly. 

“Guess that’s the signal,” Steve throws a look at you both. 

Bucky’s eyes are desperate, still, you say, “Go.”

He takes your face in his hands, kissing you deeply before pulling back. “I love you.” 

“I love all of you.”

“Remember your promise.” It’s not a question. 

You nod, “Don’t make me keep it and I won’t make you.” 

“Deal,” he says with a sad smile. 

“We gotta go,” Steve says. 

Bucky backs away from you slowly before turning to run. The wounds in your chest nothing compared to the hurt of watching him go. 

Your fight isn’t done. Cradling your left arm across your chest, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure on the wound you start to make your way forward.

“Nope,” Clint drops down in front of you. “Sit your ass down.” 

“I-” He cuts you off with a look and you lean against the crates until he’s satisfied. It only lasts until you see the blast from Vision sending debris tumbling to block Bucky and Steve’s entry to the jet. 

You hardly breathe as you run, pain searing through your chest, clouding your vision. Wanda catches everything giving them enough space to get through before Rhodes hits her with something sending her to her knees. 

Anger swells within you, momentarily taking place of the pain. You heave Rhodes away from Wanda before collapsing yourself. Clint rushes to your side, holding you up. 

“What did I say?” 

“I’m a bad listener.” 

“Clearly.” He positions himself behind you so you’re able to lean into him. 

The jet bursts from the hanger and you feel yourself relax. They can do this, they can fix this. Steve will bring him back. 

“What now?” You ask Clint.

“We wait.” 

-

None of you fight back when military police descend on the airstrip knowing this is what you signed up for by staying. Medical whisks Rhodes away and sees to the kid in the spider suit while you sit on the tarmac bleeding, breathing through the pain. 

“Anyone, gonna get to her?!” Sam berates the officers. 

“It’s fine Sam.”

“It’s not. You’ve lost a lot of blood, Y/N.” He looks around, “Hey! Come on!” 

“That’s enough,” one of them remarks before grabbing Sam’s arms and forcefully cuffing them behind his back. 

Hands come from behind you as well, grabbing your forearms and wrenching your arms behind you. You can’t hold in the scream as the motion pulls the gashes across your chest open wide, fresh blood seeping into your ruined shirt. 

A chorus of anger rises from your ragtag team, though the words are lost in the onslaught of pain. That is until someone kneels in front of you, pressing a clean towel to your chest. 

“Thank… you,” you manage, trying to gulp in air. 

“You’re welcome,” a woman’s voice says. “Maybe don’t head butt me this time.” You look up to see Romanoff. 

“Yeah, sorry about that.” Your eyes squeeze shut as your body sways from blood loss. 

She steadies you, pressing the towel tighter against your chest. “What is Barnes to you that he’s worth this.”

You look up into her vivid green eyes, mind clear suddenly. “Everything.”

She stares for a moment to see if there’s more before her brows raise. “Oh… Oh.” Natasha looks back as a jet lands, a few official-looking men stepping off. 

“Can we get medical over here? She needs to be seen to,” Natasha says as they approach. 

“She’ll be seen on the jet,” an older gentleman says in a grave tone. 

“Secretary Ross,” Natasha places herself between you and the man. 

“This the only injury on this side?”

“Side? This isn’t a war, Secretary.” 

“Isn’t it?” He steps around her, looking down at you. You unflinchingly meet his gaze. 

“Secretary, with all due respect, this woman needs-”

“Wilson, I suggest you shut your mouth unless you intend to tell me where Barnes and Rogers are heading.” The Secretary gives everyone a once over, “Load them up.” 

Everyone but you is locked into their seat on the jet. As you climb in altitude your head swims and you fold forward. 

“Sit back,” Clint says gently. “You want to keep your heart elevated.”

You force yourself back, head thudding painfully into the metal of the chair behind you. 

Secretary Ross enters, a med-tech behind him pushing a cart. He stands stoically, looking down at every person in the room. The tech approaches you, irrigation bottle in hand. 

“Come on,” Sam grumbles. “Can’t you at least see her in a med bay?”

“She’s lucky she’s being seen at all,” Ross says in a chilling tone. 

He watches as the tech soaks the towel, removing it from your chest, despite the ache you refuse to make a noise. You’d had enough interactions with men like this Ross character to know that you never show them an ounce of fear or weakness. 

The tech studies your wounds for a moment hands working swiftly to attach a blood pressure monitor to your wrist. He looks at the reading, brows creasing in disapproval.  

“Blood type?” He asks. 

“AB.” He takes a note before turning a more focused gaze to the gashes. 

“We’re going to have to cut the shirt off, likely fibers in the wound.” He turns to the cart and shuffles around, when he turns back there’s a needle in his hand. The blood pressure monitor on your wrist begins to beep as your heart ticks up, the increased blood flow making your chest throb. 

“What is that?” You ask, hating the way your voice trembles slightly. Flashes of countless needles being forced into your veins fill your mind. 

“Morphine.” He reaches for your arm and you pull back as far into the chair as possible. 

“No.”

“Ma’am,” he sighs out clearly annoyed. “You’re gonna need sutures-”

“I don’t need drugs. I’ll be-”

“I don’t think you understand how much this is going to-”

“I’ve had worse,” you say matter of factly. 

“Give her the damn sedative,” Ross demands. 

“She said no,” Wanda says. Ross turns an indignant gaze her way. 

The tech moves to try and administer it again but you latch your power onto the syringe in his hand, crushing it. He stares, confused and a little scared at the liquid dripping down his arm. 

“Maximoff,” Ross starts but then pauses. Slowly he turns back to look at the shattered remains, seeming to realize that Wanda’s signature red glow didn’t accompany that action. 

His cold stare lands on you. “Just get her cleaned up Aarons.” 

“Yessir.”

Ross storms off, pausing at the exit, “I will deal with all of you on the Raft.” 

Aarons pulls two small folding stools from the cart and guides you into one with surprising gentleness. With your back facing the others he cuts open your shirt. You hear him let out a puff of breath as he sees the scars there. 

You have to hand it to him, Aarons works quickly, truly trying to not cause more discomfort than necessary. His eyes search yours on occasion, especially in moments he expects you to grimace or show pain. 

He finishes bandaging you up and guides you back to the chair. “Sorry,” he says, motioning for you to place your arms in a position to be manacled. You say nothing, simply do as you’re told. 

“You’ll need a transfusion. I’ll try to get to that before we land.”

“Thanks,” you say. He nods and leaves. 

They do not get to it. Not that it matters much. You know your body will heal, whatever Hydra had filled you with would ensure that. Your heart though… 

Already the distance and uncertainty weigh heavily. Every few minutes you have to talk yourself down, silently coaching yourself that he will be ok, he must be ok. They will succeed. But if they didn’t… Well, your broken heart would be the least of the world’s concerns then. 

As soon as they land on The Raft you’re shuffled out with the rest. Until now you didn’t understand what The Raft was—a prison, a floating prison for the worst the world had to offer. When you’d agreed that some of you would have to hold back you’d assumed they’d put you all somewhere but never this. 

They march you all down a long corridor, opening into a large space where several other corridors branch off. Everyone else is led to the right while they jostle you to the left. Terror makes alarms sound in your mind but your expression stays impassive.

“Where are you taking her?!” Sam calls out. “Hey, wait!” There’s a thud, you look back to see Sam doubled over, his eyes look up and meet your own. You shake your head no as they lead you away. 

He means well, but you have a feeling he’s never been a prisoner before. You on the other hand… you were a seasoned pro—captivity almost felt like an old, unwelcome, friend. The key was to give them nothing. Not fear, not anger, not even respect. The key was to become… nothing. 

Comply. 

Survive. 

You’re left in a cold room, cuffed to a metal chair--still with nothing more covering your torso than bandages and a blood-stained sports bra--for an indiscriminate amount of time. 

You don’t move, barely flick your eyes around the space, just stare forward. Because you don’t need to move to know your surroundings. 

Sending your power out you find the small pinhole cameras embedded in the metal walls, you feel just beyond those walls other rooms. You push it a bit further, into the corridor, to get a feel for the activity happening around you, and keep your focus there so you will know when someone is entering.

Is it muscle memory that keeps you stiff, upright, expression impassive? You’re bone-tired and should be fighting sleep in this quiet space, body demanding shut down. But no. You’re alert, ready at any moment for anything.

You aren’t startled when the door behind you opens, don’t even turn to look back. It’s not until Ross sits in a chair across the metal table from you that you realize you’d been bracing your body for a blow or the crackling feeling of a shock baton. 

He doesn’t say anything, studying you with a cold appraising glare. After a time he nods to unseen eyes and images fill the wall behind him. 

At first these photos of a woman going about mundane daily tasks—waiting for a train her hair in a messy bun, head thrown back in a laugh with friends around her, standing on a street corner impossibly balancing bags of food and four drinks, sitting on a bench looking out at the water—mean nothing to you. Just still life images. 

Clarity careens into you like a freight train. It takes effort to keep your impassive mask in place as you stare. That woman… that was you. 

How did you not immediately see yourself? How could you not see Nix, a portion of his Cheshire-like grin captured on the edge of one image? How did you not recognize the bright pink of Marcus’ hair in another? How?

Suddenly they’re gone. You want to beg them to bring them back, let you see just the smallest glimpses of the people you lost, the person you were. But you don’t. You sit, like a statue, as a video begins to play. 

A woman with long thick curls hanging around her face stares down an unseen person with a look that could strip paint— That’s me, you remind yourself. The audio is a bit crackly but you can make out the sound of your own voice well enough.

“I suggest you back off, mother fucker,” this past you growls. 

The camera becomes a blur, the sounds of scuffling and fabric obscuring a mic are all that can be heard for a time until—

A loud thud and a groan ring clear, the image clears revealing you staring down at your hands and back at the man. You look horrified and confused, a bit of blood trickling from a busted lip. 

Memory cracks through you like lightning. This was only a few weeks before they took a wrecking ball to your entire life. You’d run home and Nix had been furious that you refused to go to the cops until you told him what you did, how your ability lashed out. There was no more arguing after that, he understood the necessity of this secret. 

Nix helped you get cleaned up, ordered pizza, and braided your hair while you both watched old movies into the wee hours. You could almost feel his sure fingers finding their way through your curls, weaving them together in tight plaits.

Ross’ voice pulls you back from the void of loss threatening to engulf you, “When Ms. Romanoff released Hydra’s files to the public we took special interest in cases like yours. Of course, we assumed that you’d been put down… Reaper.” 

That fucking name. The code Hydra gave you. You hate that you flinch just a bit from it. Hate the burn of bile in your throat. 

“Or do you prefer Sara Madison?” The name you’d taken at 16 when you started a new life. “Or is it Y/N Y/L/N?” The name you’d been born with. New images flash onto the wall behind him. These faces you recognize instantly. 

“I’m sure they’d all say, Reaper, is far more appropriate.” 

It takes everything to fight the nausea, to keep the tremors at bay. Don’t give him the satisfaction, you tell yourself. 

“Nineteen confirmed kills. Given your methods, I don’t doubt there are more.” He opens a folder and lays out several more faces you know. “Heart attack, brain aneurysm, stroke—nothing suspicious about natural death.” He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. “It’s a masterclass, truly.”

Such a good attack dog, that Hydra bastard’s voice rings in your head. 

“All of this is enough for us to try you on everything from first-degree murder to treason. I can assure you that it will not end well for you.” He moves his hands into his lap, “But, we’d be willing to reconsider legal action if you’d simply tell us where Barnes and Rogers are.” 

You almost laugh. Instead, you just raise a brow, continuing to stare straight at him. The quick flash of anger in Ross’ eyes fills you with satisfaction. 

He takes a deep breath, his own composure falling back in place, and stands, circling behind you. A heavy hand lands on your left shoulder, fingers reaching around to the tops of the freshly stitched wounds there. Slowly but steadily he applies pressure to them, pain exploding. You grind your teeth, fighting the scream. 

“I should also inform you,” Ross growls into your ear, “that for all rights and purposes you don’t exist. A trial would be a formality.” His grip tightens suddenly and you can’t hold back the hiss of pain.

“Personally,” his other hand grabs your hair, forcing your head back to look up at him, “I would rather not waste taxpayer dollars on trying things like you and Barnes. If you push me, I’m sure I can find creative ways to extract the information we need.” 

You can’t fully place why your face fills with a smirk or why it grows into a full smile. Maybe you’re delirious with pain and exhaustion because the smile breaks out into a belly laugh. It hurts your chest but you can’t stop. Ross’ backhand cracking across your face doesn’t even stop it. Peals of laughter pour from you. 

“Lock her up,” he barks to someone behind you. 

Rough hands grab you, dragging you from the room. You’re still smirking when they unceremoniously toss you into a cell. 

Stumbling forward you barely catch yourself before crashing into the wall. You rest your forehead against the cool metal until your knees refuse to hold you any longer. Turning you lean against the wall and slide down it. 

Across from your cell you can just see the edge of Wanda’s. She’s staring into your cell intently, arms bound in a goddamn straight jacket. Anger flairs in you—she couldn’t be more than 20 for fuck’s sake. 

She gestures to her chest with her chin then nods at you. Glancing down you notice that blood has soaked through the bandages there. You give her a weak smile and a thumbs up. She rolls her eyes and a true smile lifts the corners of your mouth. 

Muffled sounds outside the cell wake you. Honestly, you hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep on the hard floor. 

It takes a moment for your eyes to focus in on what they’re seeing—Wanda fighting back against guards trying to take her somewhere. She can’t use her ability without her hands you realize. Still, she kicks and thrashes, anything to slow them. 

You stand legs wobbling a bit, and approach the glass and metal door to your cell, letting your anger rise with each step. Taking as deep a breath as you can manage you push a wave of your power out. Unfortunately, it catches Wanda’s footing too but it’s enough to get their attention. 

Startled eyes slide around the room, unsure of where to focus their anger. One of the men stand and you immediately throw him back. Another does the same and you toss him aside, truly surprised at the amount of force you’re able to muster. 

This continues on for a minute before a flurry of new guards, led by Ross, pour into the cellblock. 

“What the hell is-” You grab Ross before he can finish and slam him against the wall hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs. He stares at you, hatred dripping from him. 

“Leave her alone. She doesn’t know shit.” 

Ross clears his throat, “You ready to talk?”

You shrug, “Thought you wanted to get creative.” Ross nods at you and they open your cell, dragging you out.

“No!” Wanda yells as they push her back into her cell. 

“It’s ok,” you tell her over your shoulder. 

While you didn’t doubt that the US Government could be very imaginative you did doubt they were true masters like Hydra. And if they were…you could take it, you already had before. All you needed to do was keep Ross distracted enough that he stayed off of Wanda and the others. 

It was the least you owed them.

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[authoressskr]

Write Into Your Arms [4]

Characters: f!Reader, James “Bucky” Barnes, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, James “Rhodey” Rhodes, Peter Parker, Hope Van Dyne, Natasha Romanoff, Scott Lang, Wanda Maximoff, Vision, Okoye, T’Challa, Shuri, Clint Barton, Happy Hogan, Dr. Strange, Wong, Bruce Banner, Thor, Amelina Rodrigez (OFC), Carol Danvers, Rocket Raccoon, Groot, Peter Quill, Gamora, Nebula, Mantis and Drax.

Warnings: Language, Angst (mostly in and out of last couple chapters), Action (3rd chapter) and no Beta (just me and Grammerly up in here)

Word Count: 11,560   ::   Pairing: Bucky x f!Reader

This was written for @jewelofwinter’s Writing Challenge!! I also incorporated a prompt for @jaamesbbarnes + @sgtjbuccky’s D&S’ Milestone Celebration!!

Prompt: “Tin Man lost Y/N.” (@jewelofwinter’s prompt) + “Publicly, I agree. Personally, I think it’s chickenshit.” (D&S’ prompt) Bolded in text below. Prompt #1 will appear in the third part while Prompt #2 appears in the second part. The next parts will be posted by the end of this week. All will be linked.

Summary: You’re a small-time blog writer who is invited to interview the Avengers. ALL the Avengers.

*Note: Endgame happened - kind of. Steve didn’t go back to the 40s. Tony didn’t die. Natasha got brought back with the Bruce Snap. Bruce is not the Hulk mashup they had going on. Everything else happened. This takes place 3 years after defeating Thanos.*

[PART 3]

Please do NOT repost, copy & paste, post or share my works on any other platform without my EXPRESS PERMISSION.

-+- REBLOGGING is fine and very appreciated! -+-

Sleeping alone the last few nights had taken forever and you feel it begin to take its toll.

You’re still scrubbing a hand over your exhausted face as you tottle into the kitchen. Happy is making a smoothie, the grinding noise immediately grinding on your nerves at the shitty sleep you had gotten.

What if you screwed up and now you needed someone to sleep with after the attack? With that someone being a certain blue-eyed Sergeant…

You shove that thought away for a later time as you climb onto a barstool.

“Smoothie? Banana and strawberry - got some blueberries in there too. A little protein powder to kick it up a little.” Happy is far too chipper for you this early, but you force a smile at him. It’s not his fault you slept so bad.

“Sure. I’ll take whatever.”

“Granola?”

“I’m gonna have to stop you there, Happy. Only one healthy thing at breakfast at a time.” You push yourself out of the barstool to look in the fridge nearly cursing aloud when you see the milk is gone. All three fucking different kinds. “Ugh. I guess I’ll have some granola, Hap.”

“Yogurt?”

“Yes, sir.” You look around the empty kitchen. Weird. Extra weird. “Where is everyone?”

“Steve, Bucky, Sam, Carol, Hope, Scott, Shuri, and Peter all went for a morning run. They should be back in about half an hour. Tony and Pepper headed to the Tower to handle some paperwork and meetings. Okoye is in the conference room with a call from Wakanda. Bruce, T’Challa, Vision, Thor, Rocket, and Nebula are in the big lab - doing what, I don’t know. Not sure I want to know. Quill and Drax are presumably still sleeping on the ship. Gamora and Wong are sparring in the gym with Natasha, Wanda, and Clint. I assume Strange popped out, but again, can’t say for sure. Don’t have a clue where Rhodey is either. Mantis, Groot and Valkyrie are walking the grounds.”

“Valkyrie?!” You gasp around a mouthful of granola. “When did she get here?!”

“Thor went and got her. Said it would cheer you up after the Incident to see the King of Asgard.”

“Aww. He’s too sweet!” Well, that was beyond thoughtful!

“Yeah, he’s a great guy,” Happy leans on the countertop, looking you dead in the eye, “So what are you and Barnes doing? Just ask him out. Everyone is betting on it happening and if you do it today, I get $500 extra dollars from Rhodey and an extra couple grand from Tony.”

“What the hell, Happy?! Not cool, buddy.” You hiss at him, shocked at his words. Not terribly surprised, since there was a building full of bored superheroes who all operate real money like a toddler with a fistful of Monopoly money.

“What? You like him, he likes you. I don’t see a problem. You two shared a bed, he’s been following you around and taking pictures of you, he’s got a nickname for you...the two of you are constantly brushing against each other now. I could go on…” He waves his hand in a forward motion, making you frown. Bucky was taking pictures of you? And following you around? And you hadn’t noticed either of those things? Had he been the one to take your camera?

“Thanks for breakfast, Happy.” You manage not to snap the words out and also manage not to stomp back to your room. But once there, you hover just past the closed and locked door.

What to do now?

You feel a need in your chest. Maybe you need the relief crying brings? And it’s this thought that makes you wonder: Is it the lack of sleep? Is it the back and forth with Bucky? Is it the fact you are seemingly so easy for all of them to read? How had you let this happen?

You let them draw you out of your bubble while mooning over the former Winter Soldier...

Your emotions were too over the place right now but you knew what you needed to do: finish up these interviews and get the hell out before you got your heartbroken.

Although you feared it was already badly bruised by this decision.

::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx::

“Doll?” Bucky draws her out of her thoughts, your eyes just staring out over the empty gym. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ve been sort of out of it since yesterday. Do you need to, ya know, talk to someone?”

“No,” You give him a tight smile. “Just lost in my thoughts.”

“Maybe you need a break?”

“I need to finish the interviews.” Bucky takes your hand in his gently, his thumb rubbing along the back of your hand. He had barely seen you yesterday and it worried him.

“I think you need a break, beautiful. You were staring off into space and the only reason I knew you were in here was because I heard you sigh.”

“It’s just so much more difficult with them! And I don’t know why!” You flip open your notebook, pointing to the interview with Rocket you just finished, angrily jabbing at the offending page. “Rocket doesn’t remember where he’s from or where he escaped from exactly and he’s defensive about it. Won’t discuss it at all. Which is fine. Really!” Another sigh escapes you. “But every other question I ask he just scoffs at. Plus he’s throwing a lot of alien terms out when he talks about what he does, which I then have to have him explain. That just leads to him complaining and that just takes time from the interview.”

“Rocket might be better with someone like him to keep him straight. I’ll talk to Tony about it, okay? Did you have lunch yet?”

“No.”

“Well we should -” She withdraws her hand from his, Bucky’s chest tightening at the action.

“And I’m not hungry. Thank you though, Bucky. I’m just going to go find Valkyrie. Maybe she’ll be easier to interview.” She collects her things quietly, slipping from the room as Bucky sits there a bit bewildered.

Yesterday she hadn’t really spoken to anyone and he’d felt bad for not spending more time with her. They’d taken extra time on the morning run to help the vineyard owner with their vintage truck that had broken down on the road. And when they’d gotten home and showered, Thor had just been going on and on about his wonderful interview to Bruce, Scott, and Stephen. Bucky had shot the god a dirty look before clenching his jaw so hard he was sure he heard a pop.

Bucky had figured she would have already been up, about and ready to interview. And she had just one interview that day; Quill. 

He’d given her a tour of the ship and then they stayed on board while they did the interview - Bucky seated by one of the big windows closest to the patio forcing himself every so often to unclench his jaw and relax his fisted hands as he waited not-so-patiently for them to return to the compound.

He knows the Guardians are different than the Avengers, a little more avant-garde and rough around the edges - okay, a lot more - but he also knows they’ll do the right thing. Most of the time. And Tony has reminded him that he needs to trust them with her.

But he doesn’t want to.

He exits the gym just as quietly as she did, determined to track Steve and Tony down. You needed the Guardians to work with you so you could do a good job on the interviews. That’s when he passes by the conference room, your voice drawing him from his thoughts and making him pause.

“I’m glad with the results, Lina.” You have the phone tucked between your ear and shoulder, scribbling in your notebook with a little frown.

“No, Lina, I’m not going to do that.”

“Yes,” You huff out angrily. “I am aware I don’t sound like myself.”

“No! I’m not going to just throw in the towel and go home!” He watches you run your fingers through your hair before giving it a sharp tug.

“I will get through these damn interviews if it kills me.”

“I’m so fucking tired. My emotions are everywhere. Bucky just found me staring off into space. I need some sleep. I need a drink. I need to stop feeling guilty for badgering them with questions, eating their food and wearing the very expensive clothes Tony got me. I need something else but I don’t know what it is.”

“It’s not homesickness. I just want -” You pause. “I don’t even know what I want.” It’s a whisper, your confession, and it makes his chest squeeze tighter. He stops eavesdropping and continues to go find Tony and Steve, calling out to FRIDAY once he’s out of earshot, determined to make you feel better - like before.

::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx::

Valkyrie is a blessing from above.

You honestly almost burst out in tears at her calm, concise demeanor and frankness.

She’s whip-smart, unafraid to speak her mind, and witty to boot. She offers you a drink as soon as you sit down, making you shake your head no. You really don’t need to drink in the mindset you’re in right now. Then again… No. No, better not.

“Were the Valkyries on Asgard anything like the ones written about here on Earth?” She snorts at your question, taking a long pull from her beer bottle before tossing herself into the oversized blue chair in her room.

“No, not at all. There are a few similarities, but we weren’t sewing and making bullshit tapestries of the humans ‘great battles’. We were warriors. When we weren’t honing our skills, training Valkyrie hopefuls or drinking, we led normal lives on Asgard. Our leader sat in on meetings with Odin, we helped patrol the city in times of uncertainty, we courted and loved...we were strong.” She leads off, looking away from you.

“And then Hela came?” Your words are soft, the look in your eyes even softer.

“And then Hela came. First, she destroyed my sisters, my family, my friends. Took everything from me. And then she came again. Like a ghost from the past, I had hoped never to lay my eyes on again.” She swallows before pursing her lips slightly, tapping her thumb idly against her bottle. “Only this time she killed our people and destroyed our home. This time she nearly took everything again. But Asgard is a people, not a place. And I survived to see her die, so I feel I was able to avenge my sisters in a way.”

“I think they’d be glad to know she’s gone and can’t hurt anyone anymore.” She nods once before leaning back in the chair. “To think, a lot of things might have gone differently if Odin had been honest.” Valkyrie snorts in agreement before taking another drink. “Asgardians seems to have some pretty big secrets.”

“That’s what happens when you live so long, little poet,” Valkyrie winks before shuffling down a bit more in the chair.

“I suppose so,” You raise an eyebrow at the nickname, agreeing to her words with a little shrug before diving into your other questions. Asgardians nickname you FAST.

Asking about New Asgard, about being King, and about what she misses most about her sisters distracts you from your thoughts of failure on your other interviews and from Bucky, who had been so nice to you, but hadn’t really tried to touch you in the last two days until just before in the gym. He seemed to be distracting himself just as much as you are and it slightly pisses you off that he still feels guilty over what happened. But the anger always dissipates nearly as soon as you recognize it, knowing you aren’t angry - but something else. If only you could fucking figure out what that something else was...

“Something you like about Earth?”

“Variety,” She says with a grin that has some flirty overtones, chuckling when your eyes widen ever so slightly. “Ya know,” She begins, bracing her elbows on her knees, “I could help take your mind off whatever troubles you, little poet. We can get Bruce or Thor if that makes you feel better.” She reaches out to pat your knee affectionately and while this isn’t the first time you’ve been propositioned - by a man or woman - this was the first time others were offered as part of the deal. And unlike the others, you don’t feel leery of Valkyrie. What she’s offering is honest and upfront, with no side agenda like the men always seemed to have. You were slightly shocked you still felt comfortable with her after she suggested that. Now you kind of wish Bucky would suggest that, but you know that would hurt your heart more when you had to leave.

“Thank you for that. But I don’t have sex with people I’m interviewing.” Her grin never leaves her face.

“That’s alright. I’ll ask again when you’re done with your writing and interviewing,” You can’t help smiling at her tone, so self-assured, feeling her hand at the small of your back as she heads towards her bedroom door with you. “I wouldn’t sleep with Thor but I think you’d enjoy it. Bruce, I might be tempted to, but I like the Hulk better, but I know he would see to your pleasure. But I know you’ve got your eye on the metal-armed super soldier.” You look at her, the question must have been crystal clear in your eyes, along with the shock of her talking about Bruce and Thor’s sexual prowess. “We all see it. The way you look at him, the way he looks at you. I find it adorable you are so shy, easy going and easily flustered. Not to mention attractive. So I understand why the Sergeant glares at everyone who gets a little too close, touches you a little longer than appropriate here on Earth.” Sort of like now...

“Thank you for the compliments, Brunhilde.” Her eyebrow arching smoothly with surprise. “Thor didn’t tell me - I just did my homework and guessed,” A small sigh escapes your lips after your victorious smile. “I thought we took a step back after the attack but I also thought he would make a move after we smoothed that out. But I’m still waiting. And I’m tired of initiating too. I-I-I’m just not very good at this.” You gesture between yourself and the closed door and then between yourself and Brunhilde.

“Don’t worry, little poet. I’ll help you out. You don’t need to do anything. We can give him the kick in the pants he needs.”

“But,” She drops her hand, lifting it to squeeze your free hand at your soft tone. “I don’t want him forced or coerced. I want him to want me and act on it.”

“And that’s what you deserve, little poet,” And she kisses your cheek tenderly. “Let’s get you something to eat.”

:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx::xxxxxxxxxx:::

“Alright, listen up, freeloaders!” Every head snaps towards Tony. “Apparently our new housemates aren’t treating our writer well.”

“How is that our fault? You all are the ones who tossed her outside to fend for herself!” Quill shouts back, pushing himself out of his chair to stand before Bucky growls at him across the table.

“Look, we aren’t at a damn cantina in space - so I need you to pull your heads out of your asses and for fuck’s sake stop flirting with her,” Tony glares at Quill. “And stop making her feel stupid for not knowing your space jargon, Mr. Build-A-Bear,” Tony points to Rocket, “or butting into others interviews,” Tony gestures towards Drax who looks to his left at Nebula, who rolls her eyes. “No, not her, Drax. You!” Drax points to himself.

“I didn’t interrupt anyone.”

“You interrupted me! How am I supposed to make a move on her when you’re in the ship butting in?”

“She isn’t here for you to hit on,” Scott clarifies. “She’s here to interview us. She wants to make us look human, make everyone see the sacrifices we’ve been through and you schmucks are gonna drive her to drink!”

“I agree with the Ant. She is too...chipper for myself but seems more than competent. More so than these morons,” Nebula’s rough voice disturbs the quiet after Scott.

“Okay - fine! I’ll try not to hit on her anymore and Rocket will try to be nicer. I can’t fix Drax -”

“I’ll try to keep them more in line,” Gamora agrees with a nod, tapping her forefinger against the heavy wooden tabletop.

“You should all be responsible for yourselves. Be nice. She’s nice to all of you. She was so excited you all were coming and so far her favorite person is Valkyrie of New Asgard. On Earth.”

“That really can’t be helped, she is rather wonderful,” Thor smiles at Tony who fights an eye roll. “Both of them.”

Bucky nearly snarls at Thor, gripping the arm of his chair so tight he feels the metal buckle beneath his grip.

“We will all be better behaved. Even if I must make them, Mr. Stark, sir.”

“Thank you, Mantis.” Rhodey gives her a nod. “Everyone go ahead and go about the rest of your day.”

They all file out except Bucky and Thor who are staring each other down.

“I am not after the little rose, Sergeant.”

“She’d be better off with someone like you. But I just can’t let her go, you understand?”

“I do. But she is already taken with you. She does not look at any of us, nor talks to any of us as she talks to you.” Bucky nods, releasing the metal from his grip and resting his hand on the table.

“I’m-I know I should ask her out but yesterday and today...makes me think that she’s trying to stop herself from getting hurt.”

“You won’t hurt her, Bucky. It is not in your makeup to harm her nor anyone you care about. You are more different than Steve then I realized, but I like it. Remind me of myself after I learned some hard lessons.”

“I’m glad we are on the same page then.”

“Oh, my friend, we are not on the same page at all.” Thor begins with a deep chuckle as Bucky’s eyebrows shoot up. “I agree you might deserve her and I agree I will not pursue her now, but you need to make a decision or release her. Valkyrie and I both already have a soft spot for her. And are waiting eagerly in the wings, as it were.” Thor stands with a bright, happy grin, clapping his hands and rubbing them together. “I’ll see you at dinner then!” And he walks from the room like he fucking owns it.

“I hate him,” Bucky mutters to himself before leaving the conference room in a huff.

:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxxx:::

Natasha comes into your room while you’re parked in your usual spot, laptop playing the opening chords of ‘All My Life’ by K-Ci and JoJo as you switch between typing and adding notes to your notebook.

“Did you find your camera?”

“What?!” You set your laptop to the side, focusing all your attention on the redhead. “You had it?”

“Yes. I wanted to see what pictures you had taken.”

“You could’ve asked!” Natasha pauses for a nano-second before shrugging.

“Sometimes I forget you are so open. With no ulterior motives.”

“Natasha, you honestly have no idea how much it hurts that that is how you live your life. Always suspicious.”

“It’s kept me alive.”

“I’m sure it’s kept many people alive. But what a terrible mindset to always be thinking ‘What do they want from me?’ or ‘What information are they after?’” You turn back towards the window, pulling your laptop back into your lap and staring resolutely at the screen. “Thank you for returning it, Natasha. Did you need anything else?”

“No, I suppose not. Just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Thank you for the concern, but I’m just dandy.”

“And you’re still a terrible liar. I just wanted to let you know that Rocket and Groot will be ready in an hour to interview. Well, re-interview for the trash panda.”

“Thank you for letting me know, Natasha. I’ll get on that.”

“Come see me afterward,” Her voice leaves no room for argument so you just nod, the door closing softly behind the redhead, the sound nearly covered by the sound of your heavy sigh.

::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx::

Rocket is faaaar better behaved this time around - and that makes you suspicious.

Thor comes in about halfway through and whispers that he’ll review the recording with you later if you’d like to make sure Rabbit is translating correctly. You thank him, giving his hand on the back of your chair a squeeze. He then pulls a chocolate bar from his pocket and hands it to you.

“For your patience,” He says with a wink before leaving.

“Nice. Didn’t bring us anything.”

“I am Groot.”

“Yeah, ‘course he likes her.”

“I am Groot.”

“I don’t know - you ask her.” Groot looks at you, gesturing from the closed conference room door to you.

“I am Groot.”

“Yes, I like him too. He’s sneakily sweet.”

“I am Groot.”

“No,” Rocket chuckles. “Quill never stood a chance. She likes Bucky, with the arm.”

“I am Groot.”

“I do not have a problem! Mind your own beeswax!” Your sigh draws Rocket’s attention. “Sorry. Sorry,” He holds up his little hands in a surrender gesture. “I’m on my best behavior.”

“And I thank you for that, Rocket. I really do.”

“Yeah...yeah…” He waves his hand again. “Go ahead with your line of questioning.”

“So kind of you, sir,”

“Can the sarcasm, smartass,” He smiles - or grimaces, you can’t tell at the moment - but you do as he asks (tells). But not before giving him a mock salute and continuing with the questions.

“Describe to me, please, how you two met.”

“This one got himself arrested,” Rocket points to Groot. “I happened, through no fault of my own,”

“Of course,” You murmur in agreement.

“To be in the prison they tossed him in. They couldn’t understand him, so I told ‘em he kept asking what the charges were. They told me to shut up and shoved - well, shoved as hard as they could, but he went willingly - into the cell - wait!” He snaps his fingers. “What’s that word? It’s one of your religious-based words to describe an idiot.”

“I am Groot.”

“I agree with Groot, Rocket. He isn’t an idiot.” Groot nods while Rocket rubs under his chin, ears not as perked up as before as he thinks.

“Putty!” Rocket exclaims finally, grinning at you like he’s proud.

“Putty is a compound. I think you’re looking for the word putz. It’s Yiddish and I’m pretty sure it means dick, not an idiot. Yutz means foolish, I think.”

“I am Groot.”

“Yeah, Quill is a putz sometimes. You’re a yutz.”

“I am Groot.”

“I don’t know Yiddish, how am I supposed to know?” Rocket shifts his attention back to you. “You know more Yiddish words? Groot wants a word for informative.” Frowning, you reach for your phone, quickly typing in Yiddish words.

“I don’t see one a non-Jewish person would know...another word maybe, Groot?”

“I am Groot.”

“Confident,” Rocket supplies as you scroll.

“Chutzpah. Nerve, confidence, brazen, gumption.”

“I am Groot.”

“He said that works. He likes it too.”

“Good, I’ll grab a couple of Yiddish dictionaries and we can learn some words together.”

“I am Groot?” You look from Groot to Rocket.

“He said, even in Space?”

“Yeah! I’ll have to ask Tony for a way to talk to you in space since average people don’t have that tech.”

“I am Groot.”

“Yeah, yeah - don’t worry, kid, I’ll fix you up with something.” He winks after he says it, sharp little teeth showing as he grins, Groot sporting his own toothy (bark-y?) grin at you.

“More questions alright?”

“Go ahead then,” Rocket gives a wave of his furry hand while Groot nods and settles more comfortably in his chair.

And so you do, with glee igniting in your veins once again.

::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx::

Drax and Mantis’ joint interview is monitored by Carol, but Drax doesn’t seem to care about who is monitoring him, he just says and does as he pleases. Which includes leaving after he believes his part is done.

“Did you get what you needed?” Carol asks, draped over a black velvet upholstered chair sideways, tapping on her wrist device before pinning you with her intense gaze. You review what he’s answered, tapping the pen against the paper while you purse your lips and go over it again.

“Yeah, I think I have enough. He answered all the big questions...I can just pester him later if I need to. Thank you though.” Carol just nods as Mantis scoots a little closer in her wooden chair, a bright smile on her face.

“You seem much happier today.”

“I’m feeling a little better, thanks.”

“Maybe once you are finished with the hard part of asking us all these questions, it will feel like a weight has been lifted?”

“I’m not sure. This is the biggest project I’ve ever taken on. I think not having a break from the chaos just sort of exacerbates it since I’m usually pretty solitary once I’ve finished interviewing. Just get lost in making it as good as I possibly can. It’s been difficult to do since I have to keep interviewing. I get a break to do a sort of layout, but that’s it. I only managed to get Pepper’s done because it was just...pressing. It just poured out once I finished her interview.”

“Chaos is a good word for it,” Carol comments with a little smile.

“It’s not bad!” You clarify, a bit over eagerly. “I’m just not used to it.”

“None of us are used to it,” Mantis says wisely, hands resting so demurely on her lap as her smile soothes your nerves back down. “We are simply glad to be all together.”

“Without bloodshed,” Carol’s mouth downturns in a sort of comical way. “Mostly without bloodshed.”

“Which I think is appreciated at every family gathering.”

“Yes!” Mantis agrees with enthusiasm.

“Want me to get the murder sisters?”

“Nah. I’ll finish up the interviews tomorrow. That way Pepper can coerce all of you into the group interview Friday and then, um, I’ll leave on Saturday.”

“Now I feel sad,” Mantis’ face falls with her words, reaching out to pat your hand accordingly. Her eyes become more intense as she sifts through your emotions. “We will all miss you too.” You nod numbly, smiling through the tears. That’s when you feel two sets of arms around you.

“I’ll kick Stark’s ass if you aren’t always welcome here. With us,” Carol pauses before squeezing you and Mantis tighter in her grip. “Although we could always take you away to space…”

“You would love space!” Mantis says excitedly, pulling away a little to grin at you.

“Maybe my next vacation should be space. Got any good beaches?”

“We could find you one!”

“Well then, of course, I can’t turn down a vacation in space!”

“Name the time and we’ll try to accommodate,” Carol confirms, laying her cheek against the top of your head.

“No leaving me alone with Quill. Unless you want me to hit him.”

“I say we give the odds to fur face - he’d looooove to see you knock Quill on his ass.” You chuckle, relaxing in their arms. “And I’d love the payout.”

“Carol, sweetie, you won’t be getting a payout. No one is gonna bet on Peter winning. Everyone on the ship can kick his ass.” Drax’s deep laughter booms through the room, drawing all your gazes. He puts another handful of gummy bears in his mouth.

“IT’S FUNNY BECAUSE IT IS TRUE!” He bellows before shoving his hand back into the bag.

“Why’d you come back?” Carol asks over her shoulder.

“Oh, yes. The woman spider says the writer is needed in her quarters.”

“All good things must end,” Mantis says with a happy sigh, all of you pulling away. Carol hands you your laptop and notebook with a bright smile.

“Cheer up, Charlie.”

“Thank you, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory reference.”

“I do what I can,” She says with a lighthearted shrug as you all head for the door of the study that Carol had found a few days ago. You take a deep breath as you walk through the door, mentally girding your loins at whatever Natasha has planned for you.

::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx::

Your patching all of today’s interviews together, trying to make it as cohesive as possible - prepping it for your rewrites and tweaks - after the two hour session with Natasha.

She had wrangled you into a massage chair, tugging your shoes off as a woman who looks like someone Pepper negotiates with daily, comes into the room with a giant metal case. She hadn’t given you an option, she had simply painted your fingers and toes in a sparkly midnight blue, with your middle fingers painted metallic gold. Not something you’d choose for yourself but, honestly, you couldn’t remember a time in the last few years where your hands and feet had both felt so soft.

And while the executive-looking woman had worked, so had Natasha.

Natasha makes it seems as if you are just discussing your life, but it’s an interrogation. A pleasant one if any of the other stories you’ve heard about her are anything to go on… She slips in tidbits on Bucky, what Steve’s told her over the years, several of those little stories making your heart clench. Natasha always makes sure to follow those up with more cheerful or funny ones.

You weren’t born yesterday - you know what she’d been doing. Subtly (or not so) talking Bucky up.

Running your hands through your hair, you try to refocus on the words floating on your screen.

You need to sleep.

Three more interviews. Just three more.

Jesus, where did the time go?

After the three interviews tomorrow, Pepper will orchestrate the group interview with your questions and a handful of submitted ones she somehow got. Pepper and Tony’s methods are like the various branches of the military since the 90s - Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.

Then you’d be gone. And it wouldn’t matter how wonderful Bucky is...cause he didn’t make a move. And you’re just as lost in your head as he is, second-guessing most everything...so you can’t blame him for not moving forward when you are just as hesitant to get involved in something too good to be true.

There is a soft knock, causing you to pause. Dinner wrapped up almost three hours ago, so you weren’t sure who it could -

Bucky, your mind supplies unhelpfully. You tell that nosy bitch in your head to shut up when lo and behold, in walks Sgt. Barnes himself.

“I couldn’t sleep. Do you, uh, would you like company?” You scrub your hands down your face, save your work and click the laptop closed.

“Yeah, I can’t focus on the screen anymore without going cross-eyed. What did you have in mind?” You lean backward, palms flat and braced on the plush carpet, staring up at the man before you.

And, dear lord, what a man.

You barely stifle a giggle as Whatta Man lyrics start flashing through your thoughts. Bucky qualifies for most of those damn lyrics.

“Whatcha smiling so big for now, doll?”

“I’ll have Wanda explain it to you later.”

“Why can’t you tell me now?”

“Because I don’t want to,” You pout, making him shake his head ruefully.

“Let’s get some sleep, then, since you won’t tell me your secret,” He holds out his hand, lips quirked in a crooked and easy smile. Taking his hand is easy, warm and safe, making you return his smile full force.

You move to the other side of the bed, pulling back the covers and shuffling under, only to be met in the middle with Bucky’s open arms.

“Tell me a secret,” His soft breath moves a few pieces of your hair before his fingers brush them back as you settle in his embrace with a soft sigh.

“My great-grandma’s step-sister was a nurse in WWII and so I grew up cuddling well-worn bears. A Captain America one,” Bucky groans good-naturedly. “A Dum Dum Dugan one. And a Bucky Barnes one too.”

“Not the whole unit?”

“Nah, her kids kept the others. My grandfather was the only boy out the bunch, so he was gifted Captain America’s bear. His sisters got Dum Dum and yours. And since I was the first grandbaby - and was the only one for about seven years - I got all three.”

“I can’t even believe any of those survived the war.”

“You and Steve did - God knows the bears were treated a whole lot better too,” Bucky snorts but tightens his arms around you. “Tell me a secret.”

“I don’t want you to leave the day after tomorrow. I want you to stay.” You pull away enough to look him in the eye, emotion making your throat tighten.

“What would happen if I did?”

“Dinner. Dancing. I could be convinced to throw in a couple of kisses,” You sigh over-dramatically, snuggling back in his arms.

“I don’t really know how to dance.”

“I could teach you.”

“For a couple kisses?”

“Holding you close is more than enough payment, doll.”

“Ah-ha! You say that now but once I’ve stepped on your toes for the tenth time, you might feel different.”

“Even my toes got the super serum. They’ll be fine.”

“Tell me a secret,” You try again.

“You scare me.”

“Bucky, I am the least scary person in this entire compound.”

“That’s what makes you the scariest. You’re the softest, most caring and gentle-hearted person...but feisty. Quiet but strong. All in this pretty and shy little package. All that adds up to a truly dangerous person.” You can hear him swallow, his heart beating quickly in his chest at his confession. “Tell me a secret.”

“I want to stay,” You whisper against his chest, a stray tear escaping from your eye to be quickly absorbed by the pillow.

“Then stay, doll,” Bucky whispers against your hair before he presses a soft kiss atop your head. “Stay with me.”

::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx::

When you wake up, Bucky is gone.

You push down the unease at waking up to an empty bed before dragging your ass out of bed.

The shower is over quickly, blow-drying your hair lightly to help along the drying process before getting ready to plonk down in your customary spot when you pause, your stomach growling loudly.

“Okay then, breakfast before working today…”

::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx::

“I am Groot.”

“No, flowers ain’t gonna help.” Rocket heads into the kitchen after Scott, Groot following behind.

“I am Groot.”

“He’s got a point there.” Bruce and Rhodey stare at Thor. “Oh, right. He said a puppy might work…” Thor nods as he strokes his beard.

“Help what?” You ask, startling the trio as you enter the lab with Valkyrie, Peter, and Vision.

All five of their gazes drop or wander upward to the walls.

Uh-oh.

“What is it?”

“Well, see, uh - we got a call about a small arms deal by the Canadian border,” Rhodey answers, leaning his hip against the table.

“Uh-huh.”

“So, um, Steve, Clint, Tony, Natasha and, um,” Bruce stumbles over his words, looking at Thor then Rhodey.

“Bucky,” You supply as Bruce nods.

“Yes. They all went.”

“They left already?” They all hear the disappointment in your voice.

“I am Groot.” Groot holds out a piece of paper for you, smiling softly down at you.

“Thank you.” You unfold the paper, noticing Bucky’s neat handwriting.

     Babydoll -

           It’s just a quick mission. We’ll be back hopefully by tomorrow afternoon.

           I’m so sorry.

           Just - just promise me you’ll stay until I get back.

           Please?

           Promise I’ll be safe.

           And I’ll owe you [1] good night’s sleep, doll.

            -- Bucky

You fold the letter, tucking it into your pant’s pocket.

“You need a drink!” Valkyrie soothes happily, shooing you from the room with Thor and Rhodey following behind.

“It’s not even 9 am!” Scott shouts, following behind with an eye roll and head shake.

“I am Groot.”

“Yeah. Hey, Bruce, where do we find a puppy around this planet? Is there a shop?”

“First off - I’m not sure about the puppy. Secondly - we do not shop at pet stores. They’re usually from puppy mills. Need to look at reputable places to adopt.”

“Good. Show us those then,” Bruce groans as Rocket jumps onto the table by his laptop.

“Fine.”

“I am Groot.”

“That’s true. He might need a friend to keep him company.”

“Dear lord…” Bruce huffs as he typed in local dog adoption places in New York before his face softens at all the little doggy faces that flash across the screen.

::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx::

You’re going to leave. You aren’t going to come back. After this morning, you won’t want anything to do with them. Especially him. Bucky shoves the dark voice back deep down as he glares down at his plate.

“You look real nice in the mornings,” Quill says loudly around a mouthful of waffles, gesturing with his fork at your hair. Bucky bites back a growl, shoving the majority of his omelet into his mouth in one go.

“Thank you,” Your voice has an edge of curtness, but still polite...totally unnoticed by Quill.

“Of course, I’m just bein’ honest,” He continues, smiling widely at you before shooting you a wink, which makes Bucky snap his fork in half. He tosses it in the sink with a huff before grabbing another, fighting the urge to stab Star-Dumbass with the new fork.

“Listen, Peter, I’m not interested. Thank you for the compliments but right now I’m just not in the mood to deal with your whole ‘trying to get laid constantly’ bullshit.” Steve nearly chokes on the piece of sausage he’s eating at your words, T’Challa giving him a hard thump between his shoulders as he tries to hide a smile.

“Every time I think, well, I don’t think I can like her any more than I already do - she makes me. Go on, tell him how you really feel,” Sam’s warm chuckle seems to reassure you, Bucky watching your shoulders relax a little.

“Let’s hurry up everyone - the video photographer will be here within the hour.” Bucky nods at Pepper’s words, shoving his last forkful of eggs in his mouth and grabbing his shitty cup of coffee. Even though it was the fanciest coffee Tony could buy, it was crap compared to the coffee you’d been making him. You’d showed him how to work the machine but he knew it wouldn’t be the same.

He had talked himself out of sneaking into your room late Sunday evening. Of nuzzling an unheard apology against your shoulder before gathering you tightly in his arms, fully prepared to grovel come the morning.

Bucky knew you wouldn’t want him to grovel. When he had mentioned it in his mind, you had nearly punched him. He’d easily had kissed away the flash of anger, happy to soak up the ease he always felt in your presence.

Bucky shakes himself out of his dreams, willing himself not to think of the memory of your bare legs wrapped around his and your warmth as you two were pressed so tightly together.

Now you’re seated on the couch beside Shuri, plate balanced on the tops of your legs as you finish working your way through the huge pancake you have left, and giggling at a picture she’s showing you on her phone with Clint leaning over your shoulder to peer down at it too.

Pepper and Happy had wrangled you into staying an extra two days since the mission ran over, and she still wanted desperately to give you the video interview and glamor shots of all of them for your going away present.

Which Bucky wasn’t going to think about.

“Hey.” Bucky looks startled for a second before he nods at Shuri. “Do you want what’s left? I can’t finish it.” Bucky shakes his head at the question, but nerves kept him from really enjoying his breakfast. He watches as you lean back on your hands, the mauve shirt your wearing riding up just a bit above where your black leggings sat. Teasing him with the tiniest peek of skin.

He commits the image to memory, knowing you’ll be trying to leave on the jet when this interview concludes… He also knows that Tony, Steve, and the others will all convince you to stay for lunch at the very least. He knows you’ll accept - you’re too sweet to deny such a request. His sweet, smartass, torturous babydoll.

“Okay, the stylists are here! Remember to dress nice but not gala event/black tie nice!” Pepper barks as she takes the plate away from Rhodey, shooing him towards the small army of men and women standing just inside the living area as he sighs heavily. Bucky isn’t the only one to notice you slip Rhodey a piece of toast with jam, nodding towards were the trays of mimosas were on the counter with a big smile.

‘I love you, kid,’ Rhodey mouths, grabbing a flute of spiked orange juice and taking a healthy bite of toast as his stylist guides him from the room.

When the gentleman assigned to him came to get him, Bucky silently trailing after him, not noticing the sad, longing gaze you shoot him as you watch him leave.

::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx::

Lunch is a lot jollier than they all feel, trying to send you out on a high note.

It’s lighthearted and full of laughter as you all drag out this time as much as possible, making you look around and finally take the time to truly appreciate the expensive wallpaper of this room, the actually silver silverware that glimmered dimly in the natural light - as if it doesn’t want to draw attention to its elevated status.

Your gaze has circled the room innumerable times since sitting down, each time slower than the last, soaking in every minute detail of the group of people around you.

Thirty wonderful beings sit around the long, long table around you - beings who had opened their lives, their pasts, and their homes to you in the past two weeks. They’d given you nicknames, built little inside jokes with you, and (mostly) given you their trust; knowing you aren’t going to use the information given against them.

You’ve caught Bucky’s gaze twice so far with your roaming looks, with each time more heart-wrenching than the last. You have so much you want to say and he seems to be trying to communicate the same to you with those storm blue eyes pouring out every emotion from the last two and a half weeks in their depths.

And you’re trying not to bawl from those drowning blue eyes fastened resolutely to you.

So you keep talking. And nodding along. And laughing...because, if you don’t, you don’t know what you’ll do. Yes, you do, you’ll break. Thanks, inner monologue!

You lean over the arm, showing Peter a TikTok video of a girl howling and her cat mimicking her, Shuri hanging over Peter’s shoulder to watch it before you all let out a little howl as it replays. Gamora is on your left side, Carol beside her, as Gamora whispers something from the interview - making all three of you burst out laughing.

You think about your purse, already settled on the jet, with your messy notebook carefully placed inside...basic stats were long forgotten in all the wonderful personal things you’ve discovered along the way. How Drax has a thing for gummy bears and chocolate pop-tarts. How Nebula tried to shoot Clint’s bow and almost broke it by pulling it back too hard. Pepper keeping chili chocolate bars in her desk drawer for a long day in the office. Peter talking to DUM-E just like Tony does, the three of them lost in stuttered conversations late at night. Rocket napping cuddled up under Groot’s arm in the garden.

“We’ll miss you,” Tony hides behind a tight smile after he draws everyone’s attention with his words. “And I’ve loved the emotion.” You can’t fight back the tears anymore, your lip quivering as you nod, nails digging into your palm to stave off the sobs.

“Big picture,” You affirm with a watery smile.

“Big picture,” Tony agrees as he gives you the most heartbreaking smile. By now, there was no more Iron Man between you...just Tony Stark doing his best by his adopted family.

“Boss, the jet has begun its standby. Ready for Miss Y/N.” The only sounds after that are soft shuffles as everyone seems to shift and tense at the AI’s words, reality settling even more harshly around the room.

“Thank you FRIDAY.” He seems to whisper, but it comes out louder because of the silence the room is ensconced in. “At least we added a few more AFI 100 Greatest titles to your list. Got you some new duds,” Tony stands up and everyone follows suit. “Got you a nifty new hair cut,” You can hear some chuckles behind you as you all head out of the mess hall. “Anything you’d like to let me know before you go, kiddo?”

You nearly run into Rhodey’s back as he stops just inside the hanger, dreading 30 goodbyes.

“Invite Wong and Strange over more often - I know, I know,” You hold up a hand in a stop sign. “Even if they decline. Gamora needs more fruit to tempt Nebula with to be less stabby on long missions and Nebula now, surprisingly, loves those chocolate-covered blueberries, so those as well. Gamora also needs a few more t-shirts since she loved the one I gave her from the store you have a tab at - the black, extra soft t-shirt one? Carol won’t admit it, but she needs to be asked to visit here more too. I know she’s busy, you all are, but asking is sometimes just as important as the actual visiting.”

“FRIDAY and I are making a list, don’t worry. Continue.”

“Steve and Bucky deserve a dog. There are more than enough people to help take care of it - take the stick out a little on the dog matter. Please. Make Clint drink something not caffeinated. And don’t make Natasha be the one to make Clint do it. Add a little salt lick or something out in the clearing for the deer. Don’t let Shuri attempt to hijack Redwing when she leaves, it’ll upset Sam. Make Steve eat a few Oreos. I don’t care how, but I would enjoy the video evidence. Go easier on Peter when needed, he’d trying to do his best and live up to you. T’Challa needs to let loose some too, go hang out in a giant donut together. Okoye needs some Starbucks delivered sometimes - the sweeter, the better. Have family-style dinners more often. Invite everyone, even if they can’t come. And get some fucking sleep, Tony.”

“Is that all?”

“Have Scott do your Christmas lights at the Tower. I’ll come ‘cause I know it’ll be hilarious and beautiful. Let them babysit Morgan more - she’s in the safest hands. Put a damn cover or grate or something over your incinerator pit!”

“Now, see, little miss writer, usually it does, per law. It had been emptied into the fields and hauled off to the vineyard and it hadn’t been put back before dark. Check that one off your mile-long list.”

“Just keep doing what you all are doing. And thank you, thank you all for everything you’ve done.” You fight back tears again, huffing out a deep breath, focusing on Tony before you. “And Bucky and Steve deserve a dog. Oh, and tell DUM-E I’ll write to him.”

“Noted,” Tony snorts at the DUM-E comment before grumbling, reaching forward to pull you quickly and tightly against his chest. “See you later, sweetness. You’re welcome here anytime.”

Pepper steps in when Tony steps away, inhaling a shaky breath as you wrap your arms around the red-head.

Wanda is next, kissing one cheek and then another before hugging you tighter than you were hugging her.

“Mici sărutări pentru tine în această după-amiază.”

“Little kisses to you too, Y/N. Take care.”

T’Challa wraps his arms around your shoulders, squeezing you gently before Shuri throws her arms around you as well.

“Say hi to Nakia and your mother for me, please.”

“Of course,” T’Challa agrees immediately before stepping away to reveal Sam, holding up a crisp $20 bill.

“You were right…” Sam grins out as you pocket the money before wrapping your arms around his neck and tugging him to you.

“I usually am,” You reply with some cockiness, pulling away slightly before you feel his lips against your cheek.

“Stay outta trouble.”

“I was just about to say that to you!” You chuckle out before you feel Peter’s tight embrace nearly smothering you. But, you know, in a good way. “I’ll miss you too, Peter. Next time I’m here we need to go have one of those Spider-Man ice creams.”

“And I can introduce you to Aunt May.” He pulls away with a bright smile, making you cup his face.

“I’d love that, Peter.”

Scott steps up next. “Ya know, in prison, we got hit by the biggest, meanest guy as a goodbye. All in good spirits, of course.”

“Of course,” You agree with a serious nod. “But don’t worry, I think the girls like me too much to hit me.”

“Oooh. I see how it is. Praise my lighting skills and - well, I mean, you aren’t wrong.” A wiggle of your eyebrows makes him shake his head before hugging you tightly, giving your back a few hard pats before squeezing you.

“I just told Sam that.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah…” He mutters before he delivers another squeeze, backing out of the way for Gamora.

“I know a couple of beaches...you finish up with these articles and barring anything stupid from that one,” She gestures her head to Quill who shoots you two an unconvincing ‘Who Me?’ look, rolling her eyes before continuing. “We’ll come kidnap you for a break.”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll bring some fruit and some junk food.”

“Deal!” Drax bellows out behind Gamora, picking you up from the ground as he squeezes you before promptly putting you down. “Goodbye, author.”

“Goodbye, destroyer,” You boop his nose before Steve clears his throat behind him.

“Don’t be a stranger, beautiful.” You feel small in his embrace, digging your nails into his shoulders to bury your face against his chest, letting a couple of tears fall against his dark blue shirt before he kisses the top of your head and let’s go.

Wong is next, giving you a brief hug before stepping back and giving you a small bow, which you return with a smile.

Clint pops up, gathering your hands in his.

“Our time together has been so special to me,” You roll your eyes playfully. “Thank you for not being one of those rabid journalists and for always thinking of me in black thong.”

“It’s an image I will always treasure, Clint. And I’ve tried to be as unrabid as possible for you.”

“Marry me already.”

“Pencil me in.”

“Will do, calendar girl,” He concludes with a wink, handing you off to Hope, who runs a hand over your hair before sliding her hand down your arm and pulls you into a tight embrace. She doesn’t say anything - much like Pepper - just holds you in her arms.

Rhodey is next, kissing your forehead before tucking you into a hug.

“Thanks for everything. I’ll let the Roomba know you think of him too,” You sputter out a laugh, slightly muffled against his shoulder.

“I’ll think of him often. Maybe you if I have the time.”

“That’s appreciated, you little shit.”

“Thanks, Colonel. I try.” Rhodey scoffs, gently pushing you towards Quill with a stern look shot at the outlaw.

“I wish we’d had more time together,” Quill begins, his face soft and open, as he shakes your hand. “I see now you just wanted to get to know me. Un-romantically.”

“What tipped you off?” He moves forward for a quick hug.

“I love a smart-ass though.”

“If your hand so much as moves a millimeter down Quill…”

“Several people would attempt to break my hand.”

“Starting with me,” You chuckle as he squeezes your right shoulder, dropping it with a small grin to move aside for Vision.

“I shall miss you and all your questions.”

“I’ll email you some, just so you don’t get too sad.”

“I would like that.”

“Take care, Vision.”

“You too.” Happy is next, straightening his suit jacket as he steps forward, a soft smile breaking on his face just for you.

“Kid, you’ve been interesting.”

“I’m glad you’ve had time to come to terms with my boring nature, Hap.”

“Next time you’re here, I’ll buy you a churro,” You sniffle lightly against his jacket as he hugs you.

“Take care of them,” You beg, unashamed.

“Always.”

Bruce is fidgeting with something in his hand before presenting it, a little black box.

“Open it.” He gestures to the box, Rocket standing beside him with his arms crossed. Nestled in the box is a half glass sphere with a silver base, about the size of your palm as you cradle it in your hand.

“I am Groot.”

“Yeah, we used the piece DUM-E gave to you to help build it.”

“And this is for our language lessons and my interrogations?”

“I am Groot.”

“I love it! Thank you all so much.” You carefully hold it out for Rocket, who flips it upside down and shows you what to push.

“Red means we aren’t on the ship. Black means we’re busy, ya know, being Guardians or stealing,”

“Rocket!” Gamora hisses, frowning at him.

“And blue,” Rocket continues, completely unperturbed. “Means you’re good to pester us.” You kneel in front of Rocket.

“Bring it in, you yutz.” He rolls his eyes but complies, patting your sides in return.

“I am Groot!” He says loudly as he wraps his arms around the two of you, cradling you both against his chest.

“I am Groot,” You repeat, making Rocket chuckle.

‘That was completely correct, kid. Good job.” Groot set you down, Rocket climbing up onto his shoulder as Groot gives you a little pink flower and a smile.

“Thank you, Bruce,” You lean forward and kiss his cheek before his arms wrap around you.

“Don’t be a stranger. You can call us with that too. The yellow color will connect you to the lab - whichever one we’re in,” Bruce hugging you lightly then nodding.

“Okay,” You manage, fighting back another wave of tears.

“Goodbye, little writer,” Strange gives you a tight smile before he gives a quick hug, moving to make room for Mantis.

“I will make sure to call you. To make sure you take a break from the rest of the writing,” She beams at you before you two embrace. She steps away and Nebula is behind her, holding out her hand. As you give it a firm shake, she yanks you forward for a stiff hug and a rough pat on the back.

“I will tell the fox to send your calls to me about the fruit,” You hold up a finger with a bright smile, withdrawing a small bag of chocolate-covered blueberries.

“For you,” You lean in, “I also put some chocolate-covered espresso beans and dried mango slices in that compartment you showed me on the ship by Gamora’s room.” Her serious gaze shifts from your face to the blueberries and then gives a sharp nod at your whispered words.

“As you should,” She jokes, face so serious if you hadn’t spent most of two days with her, you might have missed it - which just makes you smile all the wider.

Okoye hugs you after Nebula moves out of the way, bag tucked securely in her grip as Drax and Rocket peer down at her goodies.

“Remember me and Olenna.”

“Wakandan sunsets are on my bucket list now.”

“And you will see it. Uxolo lube nawe, sihlobo.” [Peace be with you, friend.]

“Did you just call me a friend? Cause that’s the only word I semi-recognized…” She presses her forehead against yours.

“Yes, friend. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye, Okoye. Yomelela ngonaphakade.” [Strong forever.] She pulls away with a chuckle. “Hey - I tried! Was it wrong?”

“No,” Shuri says from behind you, “It was good.”

“Princess approved!” You laugh out as Okoye hugs you tightly.

Carol is next, her arms spread wide for you to walk into. “Cheer up, Charlie.”

“Give me a smile.”

“Let that sunshine show!” Carol skips a few lines as her thumbs come up to wipe away the few tears that have managed to slip out unbidden. But you do as she asks and smile through it all.

“Stop making her cry!” Natasha admonishes, tapping on Carol’s shoulders to cut in. She raises an eyebrow before pulling you close. “I’m gonna miss you,” She says this part loud enough for everyone to hear, leaning in closer to whisper the next part - so low even the super-soldiers wouldn’t be able to hear. You hoped. “You and Barnes are gonna be the cutest couple. Name your firstborn after me.”

“I already promised Valkyrie that honor,” You whisper back, watching her pull away and only catching the end of her eye roll.

“You’re always welcome here for interrogation and nail painting.”

“My feet are still so soft - it’s amazing!” Natasha shrugs.

“I know.” Natasha tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and goes behind you to join the others.

“My little rose,” Thor begins, his hug tight and bear-like, lifting you from the ground. “I am sad to see you go. Sad that we did not get to know each other better.” You shake your head at the drop in his tone.

“I guess Brunhilde mentioned her offer to you.”

“Oh, yes,” He confirms with a wide-cheeked grin.

“Both of you are little shits.”

“Oh, yes,” He agrees, the smile never leaving his handsome face, blue eyes full of mirth. You brace your hands on his forearms, kissing his bearded cheek.

“I’m going to miss you, warrior Pikachu of Point Break.” He groans before hugging you again, this one leaving your feet planted on the floor.

“My turn!” Valkyrie shoos Thor, kissing one cheek and then the other before cupping your face in her hands. “My offer stands,” And she fucking winks at you before brushing her lips gently over yours. Your fingers brush over your lips afterward, looking at her with eyes as big as saucers. Her laughter echoes in your ears as she hugs you, her grip is tight around you but comforting.

“You are the weirdest juxtaposition...but I’ll keep your offer in mind. Far in the back of my mind, but there.”

“Good! Come visit New Asgard, I’ll give you a grand tour.”

“Okay, okay - calm down, sister!” Tony shouts as Valkyrie winks again, leaving Bucky standing before you. Of course, he had to be the last…

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to sleep the same without you, doll.”

“Ditto, Sarge. No sugar cubes?” He rubs the back of his neck before dropping his hand, biting his bottom lip.

“Nah, you’re sweet enough,” You move forward, nearly closing the space between the two of you.

“My soft, handsome, thoughtful, smart dumbass…” Bucky closes the rest of the space between you, metal fingers sliding around to the back of your neck.

“I’m gonna miss you so damn much, babydoll,” He whispers against your lips, his flesh hand cupping your cheek. His lips press oh so innocently against yours, a tightness in your chest as you sink your fingers into his hair and press his lips closer, feeling his smile at the action. When he pulls away, he links his flesh fingers with yours and throws the vibranium one around your shoulder. Pulling you as close as possible, he kisses your forehead and then the top of your head when you drop your forehead against his shoulder. “Safe travels.” He whispers before stepping away with a nod, hearing your sniffles as you hurriedly climb aboard the jet.

::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx::

2 WEEKS LATER

“What do you mean the Avengers jet is here for me?” You ask the person on the phone for what seems like the nineteenth time but is probably only the third. “I just don’t understand...aren’t they in Siberia or something?” Amelina looks at you quizzically as she comes into the tiny office space you share with two giant cups of iced coffee, slipping into your desk chair as she listens in. Nosy.

“No - I understand what you’re saying, I just don’t understand why? It’s been two weeks, we’ve only posted one interview after I left. Carol’s will be posted tonight at 7 pm EST… I just-just don’t understand WHY?” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Yes, I can be ready within the hour. Thank you.”

“Oooh - they want you back so soon! Well, I bet a certain blue-eyed soldier at least…”

“Yeah. Whatever. He hasn’t texted, called, emailed, hologrammed, carrier pigeon-ed...nada. The whole thing between us is the equivalent of Sandy and Danny at the beach. Summer lovin’. And now it’s fall.” You take the lighter colored ice coffee with the caramel drizzle, taking a hearty sip as you rest your rear against your desk edge. “And now I gotta go pack for whatever the heck this is. Jesus... I swear I cried the whole way home.”

“And the day after. And while you were proof-reading Thor’s interview before posting it.” Amelina ticks her fingers off as she goes. Ass. “While we were going over Carol’s. When someone sent an email about Pepper’s. When you were picking out pictures to go along with the stories...I don’t see how you have any tears left at all. You’re just so damn sensitive.”

“I can’t believe you’re still so blase about my anguish. What a friend you are!”

Amelina tosses her long black hair over her shoulder with an eye roll. “Listen,” She peers down at her watch. “You’ve got forty-five minutes left to get ready!” The traitor sing-songs with a bright smile.

You return her bright smile.

“Guess that means you’re holding down the fort again! All by your lonesome!” You chuckle before wrapping your lips around the straw once more, bending over to pick up your purse from under your desk. “Hasta la vista!”

“You’re a little shit, do you know that?!”

“It’s been mentioned!” You call over your shoulder, heels clicking down the hall with your thoughts running a million miles at the possibilities of what this means.

::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx::

When the jet lands at the compound, Bucky is a ball of nerves.

He’s been carefully planning since you left and it’s taken this long to muster up the damn courage to execute it.

The compound was mostly empty - operating with a skeleton crew - so Bucky didn’t feel as foolish standing in the hanger bay for the last couple hours letting his nerves suffocate him.

And when you step off the jet, it takes his breath away. God, you’re gorgeous.

He waits until you’re halfway across the hanger before stepping from his spot, smiling through the butterflies and moths fluttering chaotically in his belly. “Hey, doll.” Dear God, your eyes widening and the little gasp that accompanies it made his chest tighten.

“Your hair, Bucky! I love it!” Bucky runs his vibranium fingers through his newly shorn locks, neck and cheeks flushing under your scrutiny. “Is this - is this your calendar outfit?” He watched you take in his outfit. “God, you look even better than I imagined!”

“Th-thank you, gorgeous.” Bucky gestures you towards the door, following a little too closely behind.

“How far do I go?”

“All the way to the living room, please.”

“Oh, Bucky.” You were born to break him, he was sure of it. How you said his name - fuck, he was a goner. Bucky moves so his chest is nearly brushing against your back, inhaling the scent of your perfume like he’d been itching for it.

“I owe you a couple of dates. Some dancing. And a few good night’s sleep.”

“Is this how you treat all the girls you like? Show them some woodland creatures, make them cookies, reel them in with those big blue eyes, toss them to what you hope is safety, run off to go keep civilians safe, and then make a romantic dinner with all the trappings?”

“No. Most women will look at me but once they recognize who I am, they aren’t very interested anymore. And we both know - you aren’t most women. Plus I’m not interested in picking up any other women. Just my babydoll.” You turn to face him with those kissable lips pursed slightly.

“You know, Sergeant, speaking of picking up - I think I should pick you up and toss you into the trash bin, just to be fair.” You’re grinning when you say it, which lightens all the flutters currently in his belly and makes him automatically smile back.

“I don’t think you could pick me up, doll,” He chuckles out, gesturing towards the plush red upholstered chair closest to you both while he lets you lead.

“You don’t think I can pick you up?” Her eyebrow arch high as he shakes his head ‘no’ as he pulls out the chair and waits for you to sit before taking his own across the little wooden table. “Is that a dead rabbit in your mouth? ‘Cause you’re a fox.” His forehead furrows as he pours you both some wine.

“What - what are you doing?” He chuckles out, his eyes watching yours dance with mirth.

“Obviously I’m trying to pick you up, Sergeant,” You fucking wink at him when you finish saying that before leaning a little towards him, reaching for the wine glass. “Do you need more convincing?”

“Bring it, beautiful.”

“Was your dad a boxer? Because, baby, you’re a knockout.” Bucky’s heart stutters when she calls him baby, especially the way you say it, with your eyes twinkling but there is a hint of uncertainty there...one he needs to chase away.

“Can I follow you home? My ma told me to follow my dreams,” Bucky purrs out, watching her smile widen before her head tilts just so.

“Bucky - what is this?”

“Well, so far I got dating, dancing, sleeping...Hell - I’ll throw in some kisses too.” Bucky reaches across the small table, flesh palm face-up, anxiety riddling his thoughts now. “I wanna date you. I wanna cook with you. I want you to be the last thing I see before I go to sleep and the first thing I see in the morning. I want to hear you singing and watch you stick your tongue out when you concentrate on finding the right word or the right angle for your pictures. I’ll even pretend you don’t have ice cold feet in bed.” Your fingers tangling with his is pure magic even Dr. Strange couldn’t conjure.

“Well, are you going to come over here and kiss me or leave me hanging?”

Bucky nearly topples the chair he was just sitting in, in his haste to get around the table. His metal fingers feel cool against the warmth of your skin, his thumb stroking along your jawline as he leans in slowly, gently bumping his nose against yours before pressing his lips against yours softly. So softly. When you press against his lips a little more firmly, he takes it to mean more. So he gives it to you - his tongue gently pressing it against the seam of your lips, the both of you giving a little sigh as you open for him. God, you taste amazing. His other hand cups the back of your head, leaving you nowhere to go while he plunders your sweet mouth. Not that either of you has plans to go anywhere now. He can taste the tang of the wine and something he bets is distinctly you as your tongues meet, a soft groan escaping him at the reality that hits him just then. You’re his girl now. You press a hand gently to his chest and he reluctantly pulls away but rests his forehead against yours since he can’t bear not to be touching you right now.

“Stay with me,” Bucky whispers, barely pulling his face away from yours.

“You’re pretty good at convincing.”

“I made cookies.” He offers with a smirk.

“You think I am so easy?”

“I’m that easy for you.”

“Well, then...that’s perfectly okay. Sold, Mr. Barnes.”

::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx::

Tagging: @jewelofwinter @sgtjbuccky @jaamesbbarnes @thewhiterabbit42 @nobodys-baby-now @unleashthemidnight @stay-frosty-royal-unicorn @chelsea072498 @clockworkmorningglory @sakurablossom4 @marichromatic @blondecoffeecake @ourloveisforthelovely @whinywingedwinchester @feelmyroarrrr @rowdyhooliganism @everythingisoverrated @iloveyouthreethousand-o6 @puddinsqueen @emotionallysalty @maraudingmarauder @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @strangersstranger @thefridgeismybestie @transcendent-heroes @jotink78

A/N: Found the pic online and edited it, props to Google and all rights/privileges/ownership goes to who took the photo and to Marvel who made up all these characters.

===== THE END! THANKS FOR READING MY FIRST LITTLE SERIES!! =====

[softspideys]

Alone (Peter Parker x Stark!Reader)

summary: on the day of the funeral, you’re feeling more alone than ever. good thing your worst enemy peter parker is there to remind you that you’re not. 

warnings: angst, ***MAJOR endgame spoilers!!!***

words: 2.9k

pairings: peter parker x stark!reader

a/n: yes more angst I’m SORRY. also another reminder that if you haven’t seen endgame still you should definitely not read this :^)

When Pepper came into your bedroom on the morning of your father’s funeral you were gone, but your window was open. She stuck her head out and found you sitting on the roof, your knees hugged to your chest.

“How long have you been up?” she asked quietly, her voice shattering the silence you’d grown accustomed to.

You shrugged. If you were being honest, you couldn’t remember the last time you slept. Every time you tried, you were faced with nightmares of that final battle, of your father’s wide, unseeing eyes boring into your own.

So what if humanity was saved? So what if everyone was back? So what if Thanos was gone? You didn’t care about any of it, not anymore. Not if it also meant your father was dead in exchange.

“Come eat some breakfast,” Pepper said.

“Not hungry.”

“At least come inside,” she said. “It’s cold.” It was almost summertime, but the nights and early mornings were still chilly. Not that you really felt it. Not that you really felt anything anymore.

But she sounded so tired, and you knew today was going to be just as hard for her as it was for you. So you relented, climbing back through your window. Pepper stepped back, watching as you landed less-than-gracefully before straightening up and facing her. She said nothing, reaching out and smoothing your hair. You thought maybe she was going to start crying or worse, hug you, but all she said was, “Try not to kill Peter Parker when you see him today, please.”

“No promises,” you said. She sighed.

“Everyone will be here soon. Finish getting ready, will you?”

You nodded. She squeezed your shoulder once before leaving you alone at last.

It wasn’t that you didn’t love your stepmother. You did, of course you did. She’d raised you like one of her own long before she and Tony ever got together. You were just having a hard time accepting the fact that she and Morgan were the only family you had left now, and they weren’t even 100% yours.

For as long as you could remember, it had been you and Tony against the world. After he took you in when your mother dropped you at his doorstep as a baby (only after a paternity test proved you were his, of course), it was rare to see him without you. You were at the press conference when he announced he was Iron Man. You went to every hearing, every charity gala, every party. You watched as he went from a consultant for S.H.I.E.L.D. to the leader of the Avengers. You kept him company in his workshop during the long, lonely nights when Pepper was gone and the group had splintered and no one else was there for him.

And now he was gone. And you were alone.  

The sound of the front door opening, followed by muffled voices, broke you out of your trance. You looked over at your bed, where your plain, short-sleeved black dress was waiting for you.

When you went downstairs a few minutes later you were greeted by a crowd: Steve, Happy, Rhodey, Bucky, Banner, Clint, Thor, Sam, Nick Fury, Carol Danvers. According to Pepper, more people were coming: there was still Scott Lang, T’Challa, Dr. Strange, and Nebula, plus all of their families. Even Harley Keener had texted you to say he was making the trip up.

You knew it should’ve made you happy that your dad was loved and respected by so many people, but instead it just made you angry. Look at everyone you left behind.

No one really knew what to say to you, and you didn’t particularly feel like talking anyway, so you retreated back into the living room and sat on the couch with Morgan, watching her color. She wasn’t as sad as you and Pepper were; mostly just confused. In some ways that made it even worse.

There was another knock on the front door. Since you were closest and Pepper had her hands full in the kitchen, you got up and opened it. You immediately wished you hadn’t.

Peter and May Parker were standing on your porch, dressed in all black. She smiled when she saw you, but his jaw tightened, and even though his hands were in his pockets you could tell they were clenched into fists.

To say you and Peter despised each other was an understatement. You’d been competing for Tony’s attention since the day you met: you may have been his daughter, but Peter was the son he’d always wanted. He had an advantage and never failed to remind you of it.

You hated the bond they shared. You hated coming home and finding them tinkering away in Tony’s workshop. You hated when he stayed for dinner, or when your dad consulted him on a project over you. You hated his stupid smile and his know-it-all brain and how quickly and easily Tony grew to love him. You were so used to being the center of Tony’s world and now you had to share him with someone else, someone who barely even knew him. Peter, you assumed, hated you simply because you hated him. There was no reason for him to be jealous of you.

The worst part by far was how attractive he was. When you’d first met, he was nothing but a scrawny kid. But months of training with the Avengers, plus the natural wonders of puberty, had turned him into someone taller and muscular. It wasn’t fair that someone so annoying could also be so good-looking. You were never sure if you wanted to punch him or kiss him.

“Hello,” you said stiffly.

“Hi, honey,” May said, leaning in to give you a hug. For some reason you let her; May Parker just had that motherly effect on you. Peter, however, brushed by you without saying a word.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly as you stood aside to let her in. “He’s been like this with me, too.”

You doubted it, but nodded anyway. “It’s fine.” You shut the door and sat back on the couch next to your half-sister, listening vaguely to everyone talking in the kitchen.

“Wanna color?” Morgan offered. You looked at her paper. She was drawing a forest of some kind, all flowers and trees and wonky animals.

“No thanks.”

“Is it ’cause you’re sad?” she asked, rather bluntly. You blinked.

“What?”

“Mommy says you’re sad about Daddy,” she said without looking up from her drawing. “And that’s why you won’t do stuff with me anymore.”

For such a little kid, you forgot how perceptive she could be. Yup, definitely Tony Stark’s daughter. But was sad really the right word for it? Was there even a word to describe the empty, crushing feeling that sat on your chest day and night?

“Yeah,” you said finally. “I am sad.”

Morgan nodded thoughtfully. “Sorry you’re sad,” she said, pushing her drawing over to you. “You can have this, if you want. It’s one of my best ones.”

Despite everything, you smiled a little. “Thanks,” you said. “I love it.” And just for a second, things were better.

Then Pepper came into the room. “There you both are.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “It’s time to go say good-bye.”

* * *

You found yourself on the roof again, watching the sun set behind the trees. You knew you should be downstairs with everyone else, talking and reminiscing about your dad, but you just didn’t have the energy for that yet.

The ceremony was nice. You knew your dad probably would’ve joked about why no one was throwing a parade and lighting off fireworks in his honor, but he secretly would’ve liked it.

“You gonna jump?” a voice said. You turned.

Peter Parker was sticking his head out the window, looking up at you. You gritted your teeth, fixing your eyes back on the horizon. “No.”

“Hmm.” With annoying ease, he climbed out of your room and onto the roof, hoisting himself up to sit next to you. “Why aren’t you inside with everyone else?”

“I wanted to be alone,” you said coldly. You knew he got the hint but was ignoring it anyway, and that made you even angrier. “Why are you here? What do you even want?”

“You shouldn’t be by yourself,” he said simply.

“Yeah, well a lot of things that shouldn’t be happening currently are,” you snapped. “What’s one more thing?”

He rolled his eyes and you had to fight the urge to push him off the roof. He’d survive somehow, anyway. “Maybe I don’t want to be alone, did you ever think of that? Maybe I’m doing this for me, not you.”

You blinked, a little startled. “Where’s your aunt?”

“You kidding? It’s like Smother City with her.”

You had to admit he had a point there, thinking of Pepper and all she’d tried to do to get to you to talk about your feelings and “start the healing process.”

“Whatever,” you said finally. You ignored the smirk that flickered across his face, knowing he’d won.

To his credit, he did manage to sit in awkward silence with you for a few minutes. Then a breeze blew past and you rubbed your arms. “You cold?” he asked.

“No.” But of course, he was already taking off his suit jacket and thrusting it at you. “I told you I’m not cold.”

“Why were you rubbing your arms then?”

“I don’t know, it’s a free country?”

“Just take the jacket.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Take it!”

“I said I don’t want it!”

“Just take the fucking jacket!” Peter said loudly.

“For fuck’s sake.” You snatched it from him and pulled it on. “There, are you happy now?”

“You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Then go away!” you shouted. “No one’s making you be up here! I don’t want to talk to you! I don’t even know why you came up in the first place; you hate me!”

“Hate you?” he repeated. “I don’t hate you; I’m trying to be fucking nice to you. You’re the one who hates me. I don’t even know what I did.”

He sounded so tired, so defeated, and for some reason it made all the anger drain out of you. What was the point in fighting with him anymore? There was no one to impress anymore, no reason to beat him.

“You didn’t really do anything,” you said finally. “I’ve always just been . . . jealous, I guess.”

“Jealous? Of what, me?” He seemed genuinely surprised.

“Yeah, of you,” you said, annoyed. “You were like the son my dad always wanted. He loved you. You’re so smart and he always valued your opinion, sometimes over mine. And you’ve got these cool superpowers and I’m just . . . me. I never had to compete with anyone else for his attention before that, so I guess I just felt . . . threatened by you.”

Peter was facing you head-on now, wide-eyed. “That’s . . . that’s insane,” he said. “I mean, I know Mr. Stark and I got along really well and he became like a mentor to me, but . . . you’re his daughter. If anything, I was jealous of you.”

“Me,” you said incredulously.

“Uh, yeah,” Peter said. “He talked about you all the time. You meant the world to him. And you were there for everything, like when he became Iron Man and when the Avengers first formed. I was just that annoying new kid he found on YouTube who followed them everywhere.”

“You still are,” you muttered. To your surprise, he huffed out a laugh.

“Thanks. I guess it’s true, though. Bucky and Sam still barely give me the time of day. But you . . . you’re smart, and beautiful, and just like him. They all love and respect you. I’ve always been jealous of that.”

But you were still caught on one word. “Beautiful? You think I’m beautiful?”

It was dark, but you could see Peter’s cheeks flush. He looked up at the sky, drumming his fingers on his knees. “I—well—yeah, of course. Of course I do. Because you are.”

“Thank you,” you said, too stunned to even make a snarky comment. Since he was no longer looking at you, this gave you time to study him. He’d loosened his tie since the funeral, and you could see the fine muscles of his arms through his white dress shirt. His eyes were still red from crying earlier, but it didn’t look bad. His hair, which had been carefully gelled back earlier, was starting curl again. You liked it better that way.

When Peter spoke again, his voice was soft. “I never got to tell you how sorry I am.”

Your stomach dropped and you went back to staring at your knees. “You lost him too.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “But he wasn’t my dad. He was yours.”

For some reason his words made tears well up in your eyes, ones that you hastily brushed away. “It’s just hard,” you said finally. “Tony was the only thing in this world that was 100% mine. He was my dad. Even when there was nothing, there was me and him. And now it’s just me.” You bowed your head, struggling to keep your voice even. “And I’m so mad. I’m so mad he died and left me alone because now I’m gonna have to spend the rest of my life trying to figure out how to be without him.”

“You’re not alone, though,” Peter said. “Tell me you know that. Even aside from Pepper and Morgan, you have Happy, Rhodey, May . . . me . . . all of us. We might not be blood, but we’re your family.”

You nodded wordlessly. You were still crying, but the hot tears felt good pouring down your face and neck. You’d been holding them in for far too long.

“And I know you miss him,” Peter said. “I miss him too. We all do. And I’ll help you make sure no one forgets him.”

“Promise?”

“Swear on my life.” He held out his pinky. You choked out a laugh, locking it with your own.

“Thank you,” you said. For some reason, crying in front of Peter Parker didn’t make you feel as shitty as you thought. Instead you felt . . . understood.

You went to wipe your eyes, but Peter reached out and caught your hand before you could. You turned to look at him, opening your mouth to speak, but stopped when he reached out with his other hand and cupped your face.

Gently, he brushed the tears away with his thumb. Even after they were gone, he still left his hand there. You hadn’t realized how close he’d been sitting to you this whole time, but you didn’t pull away.

For a second neither of you spoke, just sizing each other up. You knew where this was heading and found that you didn’t mind, not at all. “Peter Parker,” you said quietly, “are you starting to like me?”  

He rolled his eyes, but you caught a glimpse of affection in them. “I always liked you,” he mumbled before he leaned in and kissed you.

Part of you wondered if it was fucked up to be kissing a boy at your father’s funeral. The other part of you wondered why you hadn’t bothered to do this sooner. Peter let go of your hand and moved it to your waist, pulling you even closer to him, while you slid yours to the back of his neck, your fingers absently playing with the curls there. You felt him smile into it and realized you were smiling too.

“Hey!”

The two of you sprang apart, looking towards the window. Happy was glaring up at you. “Are you kidding me?” he demanded. “Everyone’s been looking for the both of you.”

“Tell them we’re up here,” you said, annoyed at being interrupted, while Peter squeaked out an apology.

Happy rolled his eyes, but even he didn’t have the heart to really be mad. “You should come down and be with everyone else.”

“We’ll be right there,” you said, raising your eyebrows.

He sighed, shaking his head. “Your dad called this whole thing ages ago, you know,” he said. “He’d be glad to know he was right.” With that, he left you and Peter alone again.

As soon as he was gone, you burst into giggles as Peter buried his head in your shoulder. “He scares the shit out of me already,” he complained. “And now he just caught me kissing Tony Stark’s daughter.”

“Those are the risks that come with being involved with me,” you said, shrugging.

“I guess I’m willing to take those risks,” Peter said with a grin that you found yourself returning. “Should we go inside?”

You stopped him before he could get up. “Can we stay for just a few more minutes?”

He nodded. “Sure. We can stay as long as you want.” He put his arm around you and you snuggled into his side, staring up at the stars. Silence fell between you again, but this time it wasn’t uncomfortable. It promised that you would have more time to talk later.

As you sat there, feeling Peter’s warmth from both his body and his jacket, you realized there was a lightness in your chest that hadn’t been there in weeks. 

You would always miss Tony, and the pain of losing him was never going to go away. But you weren’t alone anymore. Not by a long shot.

[taesthetes]

messier 81.

jungkook is an annoying know-it-all, and who cares if galaxies aren’t really pink?

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader genre: fluff type: childhood friends to lovers au word count: 2,582 words warnings: none author’s note: i’m finally on summer break, and this is the longer version of this drabble. also, astrophysics is cool, and i’m sad i had to take engr physics instead, but anyway, the article in particular that i used for research is this one.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

When you were four years old, you absolutely adored scribbling out pictures of galaxies using your beloved pink crayon. Dozens upon dozens of drawings you made, including the ones your mother proudly stuck on the gray refrigerator in the kitchen, depicted various illustrations of the sky and the stars in cotton candy pink.

You were gifted one of those glorious packs of ninety-six crayons by your favorite aunt, but regardless, you only cared about the crayon labeled “Pink.” Red was too bright and reminded you of when you tumbled across the uneven pavement, droplets of carmine appearing on your skinned knees. Blue was too ordinary. After all, you saw it above your head daily. Green was much too common as well— as common as the grass at the park and the tufts of weeds growing between the cracks on the sidewalk. Yellow was the garish color of the scary bus that the big kids rode everyday to a different school than yours. And, orange was the color of your most hated vegetable. Purple was nice, but it was no pink in your eyes.

Pink was superior.

But a little boy with big doe eyes and a bunny nose thought otherwise.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

When you were five years old, you found out annoyance came in the form of a child your age named Jungkook. It was another day of Kindergarten, which meant another day your tablemate would smugly rub it in your face that the sky and the galaxy were not pink, but were, in fact, blue. And sure enough, the very same conversation began as soon as you picked up an empty sheet of white construction paper and pulled out your beloved pink stub of a crayon.

“Galaxies aren’t pink,” Jungkook repeated, wrinkling his nose, as he watched you scribbled out swirls across the blank page. “They’re supposed to be blue or black. Or they’re red or white. Maybe purple. But not pink.”

“Mind your own beeswax.” You stuck your nose in the air and make a “humph” sort of noise towards him, pulling your drawing closer to you and angling yourself away from the boy. “You make galaxies sound like a bruise. Pink is prettier.”

 Pink was the color of sticky bubblegum, of the roses in your backyard that your father planted, of your mother’s lipstick that you often snuck away with and smeared across your lips unevenly. Pink was your favorite.

Jungkook laughed, pulling out a blue crayon. “Blue is better. Pink is gross.”

You scowled at him, dropping your own coloring stick. “You take that back. Pink is not gross. Cotton candy is pink, and everyone loves cotton candy.”

“I get blue cotton candy.” Jungkook shrugged, resuming his coloring. “Why would you pick pink cotton candy? Only dummies like pink cotton candy.”

“Well, only weenies pick blue cotton candy,” you growled, glaring at the boy next to you, before you raised your voice a little too loudly. “So you’re a weenie, Jungkook.”

“_______! We use our inside voices when we’re in the classroom, and we do not call our friends weenies.” Miss Lang rushed over to your table, and Jungkook grinned at you before turning to your teacher, pouting and widening his eyes. She rested her hand on his shoulder, standing behind him. “Please apologize to your friend, _______.”

“He is not my friend. And he called me a dummy.” You crossed your arms over your chest, glowering.

Miss Lang sighed. “Jungkook, we do not call people mean names. Apologize to _______, too.”

Turning to face you, Jungkook hung his head in contrition, but he peeked up at you, a glimmer of mischief and mockery in his eyes, and your blood boiled but you remained still as he said, “I’m sorry for calling you a dummy.”

Your teacher looked at you expectantly, so you mumbled out, “I’m sorry for calling you a weenie...”

Jungkook stuck his tongue out and mouthed “dummy” at you. And before you could stop yourself—

“... Even if you are a weenie.”

“_______!”

Needless to say, when your teacher informed your parents of your name calling, your mother was not pleased. Your father, on the other hand, laughed so hard he cried. Regardless, your mother got on the phone immediately with Jungkook’s mother, and they both agreed to schedule a playdate between their children next week.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

You were happily playing with your paints, smearing the cool liquid across the paper on top of several layers of newspaper. You had on one of your dad’s old shirts to keep you from getting dirty with other newspapers covering the floor underneath your chair and the kitchen table. You were so immersed with your art that you did not notice the doorbell ringing.

A few minutes later, your mother was clearing her throat, and you turned to look at her. Jungkook was standing next to her, bouncing on the balls of his feet, as he waved at you, lips pulled into a smirk. You narrowed your eyes before returning to your painting with a toss of your hair.

“_______.” Your mother’s voice had a warning tone in it, and you looked towards her again. “Aren’t you going to say hi to your classmate and invite him to paint with you?”

“Hi, Jungkook. Wanna paint?” You unwillingly held out one of your paintbrushes.

“Sure!” He ran over and plopped himself into the chair next to yours, snatching the brush from your hand and taking an empty sheet of paper. He reached out for the green tube of paint when—

“Wait!” He stopped, turning to look at you curiously. You eyed his khaki shorts and t-shirt with a rocket emblazoned on it warily before picking up the extra smock next to you. “Put this on, so you don’t get dirty.”

“Thanks!” He beamed at you, eyes forming mini moon crescents, and you quickly looked away, focusing your gaze on your unfinished art. You begrudgingly reached out for the blue paint tube next to you and placed it next to Jungkook’s paper quietly. Your mother did teach you to share after all. He grabbed it immediately with another loud “thanks” before busily working on his painting.

The two of you worked on your paintings in silence, too engrossed in creating your own respective masterpieces. You carefully swirled your paintbrush, dipped in pink paint, across your paper, unaware of Jungkook pulling something out of his pocket and rolling it towards you across the table surface. He hurriedly turned back to his art before the object hit your elbow.

Startled, you looked over to see a brand new pink crayon resting innocently against your arm. You glanced over at the boy next to you, but he refused to look your way. However, the tips of his ears were sporting your favorite color as were his cheeks. Your lips curled into a smile as you dropped your paintbrush and picked up the crayon.

“Thank you, Jungkook.”

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

When you were seven years old, you and Jungkook liked playing pretend, more specifically pretending to be astronauts. Galaxies were still your favorite, and Jungkook promised he would take you into outer space one day to prove that the galaxy was really blue or white, not pink.

You were in Jungkook’s backyard, helping him lug an empty refrigerator box onto the grass. The two of you got to work immediately, pulling at the cardboard flaps and taping them messily with loads of scotch tape to form the top point of the rocket. Jungkook’s father had already cut out two rectangular holes in one side of the box for your and Jungkook’s “seats” in the makeshift rocket. Jungkook taped the leftover cardboard on the rear end of the box to form flaps as you began to paint the rocket.

Jungkook plopped down on the grass, starting to paint the other side of the rocket. “What are you painting?”

You stared at the mess of colors in front of you before replying, “The planets. I’m working on Venus. What about you?”

“Stars and galaxies. Blue galaxies.” He grinned at you, and you rolled your eyes before resuming to paint your side of the rocket.

“Y’know, one day, we’re gonna go into outer space for real, and I’ll show you that there’s no such thing as pink galaxies,” he continued, and you huffed out in annoyance.

“Whatever you say, Jungkook.”

When Jungkook ran inside to get some lemonade, you stood up, crossing over to his side to see what he painted. A smile peeked out on your face when you saw the carefully painted clusters of stars and galaxies.

And in the very top corner, hidden among other galactic paintings, there was a tiny, pink galaxy.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

When you were twelve years old, you and Jungkook overheard your mothers talking in the kitchen. Hidden from their view, the two of you eavesdropped, crouching against the wall. 

“When do you think they’ll start dating?” You heard your mother’s voice, and you and Jungkook looked at each other in confusion. Who’s going to be dating?

“Oh, I’m sure they’ll figure out their feelings in the next year or so. Jungkook gets so excited when she calls to hang out, although he won’t admit it,” his mother laughed, and suddenly, you felt your face getting hot before you looked at Jungkook, who had already turned red.

Flustered, he brushed past you, exclaiming loudly to your parents much to their surprise.

“I’ll date her when galaxies are pink.”

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

When you were seventeen years old, the two of you decided to take an astrophysics class for your last period, and Jungkook, true to his nature, did not fail to rub it in your face that galaxies weren’t pink on the first day before the class even started.

“Maybe you can ask the teacher about pink galaxies,” Jungkook snickered from his seat next to yours. You glared at him briefly before answering, “You know what? I will.”

The teacher arrived soon after, introducing himself and going over the syllabus and other basics. Then, clearing his throat, he asked, “So do any of you have any questions? We have a bit of free time since there’s only five minutes left of class.”

Immediately, your hand shot into the air, and the teacher nodded in your direction. After giving Jungkook a pointed look, you inquired, “Do pink galaxies exist?”

Jungkook suppressed a laugh behind his hand, but the teacher beamed at you, nodding his head enthusiastically.

“Oh, yes! Pink stars may not exist, but some galaxies do appear to be pink. You see, it’s not just stars, but also gas, that can make light in space. In places where stars are newly formed, large quantities of ultraviolet light are being produced. That light then causes atoms to ionize by kicking electrons off their nuclei. Naturally, those abandoned electrons have to find other nuclei to attach to and form neutral atoms, which forces them to go through their energy levels. And what is the most common element in the universe?” 

“Hydrogen,” you supplied, and the teacher smiled, nodding in approval at your answer.

“Right. Hydrogen is formed the most by these leftover electrons, and it also has the strongest visible light-emitting transition. By mixing this red emission line—also known as the Balmer alpha line—with the white light from stars, pink is formed in galaxies, such as the Messier 81.”

The teacher dismissed the class soon after, and you quickly packed up your bag as you shot a smug smile towards Jungkook. “So, have anything to say?”

“Yeah, are you doing anything after school now?”

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. “No, why?”

“Because we’re going on a date.” 

“What?“ You almost dropped your bag along with your heart, and Jungkook scooped up your bag, slinging it over his shoulder with his own backpack, before his sudden ten seconds of confidence disappeared.

“Well, I said I’d date you when galaxies were pink, didn’t I?” He smiled shyly at you, bunny teeth peeking out in the slightest, as your face warmed up, still speechless. He bit his bottom lip nervously. “I—I mean, only if you want to go on a date. I made this really awkward— But, I liked you for three years now, maybe even longer, but not as in just a best friend way, but I like-like you—oh god, that sounded like I was five—but as in I want to hold your hand and kiss you and do all those corny couple things we make fun of, and I couldn’t think of how to confess and—!”

“Jungkook.” You placed your hands on his cheeks tenderly, effectively stopping his rambles as he stared at you, wide eyed. Your cheeks flushed even redder, but you continued, “Relax. It’s okay. I like you, too. And not in just a best friend way, but I like-like you, too. As in I want to hold your hand and kiss you and do all those corny couple things we make fun of.”

“Thank god,” Jungkook breathed out, and you laughed, hugging him close to you as he embraced you back just as tightly. You stayed like that for a few moments before he spoke up again.

“Honestly, I’m surprised you never tried googling ‘do pink galaxies exist” already. I mean, only dummies take this long, right?”

You snorted at that, “Well, if I’m a dummy, then you’re a weenie.”

“I still can’t believe you called me that in Kindergarten. That’s like a five year old’s version of calling someone a dick.”

“Well, I still stand by what my five year old self called you.”

“Then, you’re still a dummy.”

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

When you are twenty-two years old, you move into a small apartment with Jungkook. Fresh out of university, you finally have your diploma and he has his degree in studio arts (He had abandoned his dream of becoming an astronaut long ago after he learned that he wouldn’t be able to visit Mars and interview aliens). Before entering your new shared home, he makes you wear a blindfold. Holding tightly onto his hands, you let him tug you gently inside, slightly stumbling, as you enter the small space.

Once pulling you towards what you assume is the center of the room, Jungkook lets go of your hands. “You can take it off now.”

Hurriedly, you untie the cloth around your eyes, letting it flutter to the ground in awe, before laughing in disbelief. “Oh my god.”

“Do you like it?” he asks, rubbing his arm sheepishly. “I thought it’d make our apartment feel more like home, more like us, and—”

You cut him off mid-sentence, throwing your arms around his neck. He catches you, a grin stretching across his face so widely, as you hug him tightly, burying your face in his neck. “I love it. I love it so much. And, I love you so much.”

Laughing, Jungkook tightens his embrace, pulling you even closer to him as he presses a kiss on your forehead. “I love you, too.”

Above your heads, Jungkook has painted the galaxies on the ceiling.

And they are pink.

[detrimental--scientist]

What is Detrimental Scientist’s daily makeup routine?

As a girl who grew up with books and highlighters on my hand, I never really had all the time in the world to wear make up and prioritize my looks over studies. Make up, liptint, blush on, and foundation, those are unfamiliar stuffs when you get yourself involved with healthcare students/professionals. Yes, we do know the basics, but it’s not so much of an issue if we wear it or not. I was the powder-only type of girl before, until my life’s greatest plot twist happened - my long term boyfriend cheated on me with someone who knows how to maintain herself. Reality slapped me and made me realize that, I, too, must exert effort in making my self presentable in front of people, so that’s when I learned how to apply light make up, etc.

But that didn’t really push me to join the bandwagon and dig deeper into the art of MAKE UP. I live by my belief that the best kind of make up routine is making it look simple, but fresh and classy. Girls have to remember that it’s not about applying full make up and such, we just have to own it and slay, but remember not to overdo it and turn us into a bitch or whore face. So, enough with the long intro, here’s how I do my everyday look.

1. BB Cream/Foundation

I always prefer using BB Cream over foundation because it gives a lighter look and feeling on the face. For BB Cream, I stick loyal to Missha, not only it serves as a cream, but also moisturizes and protects the skin from the sun. It costs around 1,500 php but it’s totally worth it. For foundation, I use Loreal and of course Maybelline (my boyfriend actually bought it for me lol).

Reminder: Be keen in choosing your foundation color, make sure it matches your skin tone. You don’t wanna look like a mumu or geisha ayt? Wag ambisyosa, don’t choose a lighter color lol.

✔️Apply small amount on the face and neck. You can use a foundation brush or foam, but I don’t have time for that so I just use bare fingers lol. After spreading, apply light powder (you don’t wanna over apply it, choose a powder that blends with your skin color).

2. Eyebrows

This is the best part for me because I have nice brows. I always get compliments like “how do you do your brows? Galing mo naman. They’re perfect!” Well, to be deeply honest, it’s not skills, it’s really my brow shape that makes it really good with make up on. I use Etude House brow pencil, simply because duh why not? I think it’s the best brow pencil one could ever look for. It doesn’t cost that much, but definitely not chipipay as well, so yeah, quality over quantity.

✔️You can search for tutorials over the net on how to perfectly do your eyebrows. I’ll make a tutorial pretty soon, if I get a chance to. But for now, the only thing that I can advice is when choosing a pencil color, pick the one that’s one shade darker than your hair color so it will complement. Second, don’t draw lines or fill the middle parts of both brows (nearest to the nose) so it would look natural. Lastly, use an eyebrow mascara (I use Nichido) to make the brows last for the whole day.

3. Eyes

I have three parts for this, first is eye shadow followed by eyeliner then mascara.

a.) Eye shadow

I’m not into bold colors, I only use one color when it comes to eye shadows - BROWN. I’m gonna bet on my life this color really gives the classy and pang mayaman look. One hack, you can use an old brown liquid lipstick (I use my old Kylie nude lippie). It lasts longer and the color is different from a normal eye shadow.

b.) Eyeliner

It was difficult to learn how to perfectly apply my liner, but if you want a trick, don’t use the tip to draw, tilt the pen horizontally and make the sides of the pen touch your lids. Cat eyes aren’t necessary, because for me it does look a little off the classy look. Just draw one straight line and make it as thin as possible.

c.) Mascara

I don’t always apply mascara because it’s really hard to take it off before bed lol. But if I do, I make it as natural as possible by not applying too much. For this, I also use Etude House and Loreal.

4. Cheeks

Here comes everyone’s favorite, but I think one of the most critical. Some girls overdo this part. They really think drunk blush really slays, but little did they know, that depends on the skin type. If you’re fair skinned, you can definitely slay a drunk blush look, but if you’re morena, then don’t overdo it, apply moderate amounts. And for both cases, too much blush on makes you look like the girls around q ave ready to get paid (you know what I mean). Wag pa-pokpok pls lang.

✔️What I use for my cheeks is really affordable and budget ready. It’s EB’s lip and cheek stain. I also use other lip tints such as Tony Moly and Etude of course but EB’s really the best for me because it spreads easily and doesn’t create dots and lines. I also have a powder version (Clinique) that I use when I attend special occasions. Apply a little amount on your middle finger then spread it with the other one, then dap on your cheeks, don’t forget the nose part so it would come out naturally. You can also choose not to apply blush, if you wanted to look a little more fresh and fair.

5. Lips

I have lots of lippies but currently my favorite is Maybelline’s Superstay. This is because of the fact that I don’t have to reapply every now and then just to maintain it. It lasts, no joke. And quick trivia about me, I don’t have dark red lippies. I stick to the nude or brown color because I really wanted to maintain the classy look. For liptints, Tony Moly is a favorite of course, followed by Etude and many others.

A little reminder to all of you tho, quit buying fake lippies and lip tints. It’s better to invest than to get your lips cracked, and worst thing you could have are lesions that can lead to cancer.

Brown/nude matte- I use this color whenever I meet up with my boyfriend’s parents, family members, employees, etc. Also, when I go to job interviews or anything formal.

Pinkish nude matte- I don’t know how to describe the color but definitely not light pink. This one’s a little nude but pinkish and I use this whenever I go on a date with my boyfriend. This gives a fresh and pretty aura.

Red-violet liptint- I use this to slay my party-goer look. This one makes me look a little badass chick and bold.

Light red liptint- this is my to go liptint because it looks natural. I use this whenever I go grocery or when I meet with close friends.

That ends my make up routine. If you would notice, it would qualify as a simple and light make up. There were no contours and extras, and I think that’s the reason why till now, my skin isn’t prone to acne and other skin problems. I make sure I test products first before I use, and I stick to limited make up brands that are safe and quality tested.