#to be fair to me 5 foot 7 IS short for a man

[bemusedlybespectacled]

me literally any time I see Con O'Neill in anything.

[alchemillalost]

The Season 8 Destiel Meta Post Nobody Asked For (and why I think the writers had a Destiel endgame option in mind for season 8)

Okay, so here's the long version of this post that almost nobody wanted, but I'm writing it anyway. This is LONG. I'm sorry. And I want to start with it seems like s8 is polarizing, but I rather liked it, and I think it's because I live in the (delusion?) truth of this theory. Stay with me if you want to Believe too. I think Season 8 was written with two possible outcomes in mind; and with an endgame Destiel being the more likely of the two that the writers anticipated. Sounds insane, I am aware. You will need to stick with me here and extend some trust, but I promise I can show my work.

We need to set the scene: It's 2012. We are launching headfirst into the height years of tumblr fan culture. Gangnam Style grips the nation. Destiel is huge in fanfiction & tumblr land. However, interestingly, we're about two years past show's peak. Already once SPN was slated to end with S5's natural arc conclusion, but it didn't-- it was renewed because it was making the CW money, simple as. They have pushed on into the Sera Gamble era with Seasons 6 and 7, which have their respective flashes of brilliance, but all-in-all generally struggled to find footing in the post-Apocalypse Supernatural verse that was never actually planned for. It's pretty evident that the writing and plotting isn't nearly as tight as S1-5, simply because 1-5 was all mapped out from the get go.

It's been interesting returning to the fandom after a decade, because I'm finding a lot of people now who really liked Season 7. No hate, to each their own, and maybe it was just the circles I was in at the time, but in the moment S7 wasn't received well at all. It felt like they kept inflating the "big bad" to heights that sometimes struggled to get fully fleshed out (which, to be fair, continues to be a writing problem going forward). And while watching S7 in Netflix binge-mode it doesn't feel quite so bad, at the time having a year's worth of your fave TV show where Sam and Dean are systematically and pointlessly stripped of everything that gave the show its signature personality was nothing short of torture (killing Cas, the Impala, torching Bobby's place, killing Bobby), all in the name of more man-pain. All of that punctuated with a lot of filler episodes that felt like more misses than hits, the absolutely insufferable Amy Pond plot, and dick jokes just because the writers thought it was funny.

Everyone's opinions on S6-7 aside, though, Supernatural wasn't landing financially for the CW either. Season 5 aired on Thursday nights, which is a fairly well respected time slot for established and successful shows, but with Season 6 and 7 we see a demotion to Friday night, 9 PM ET. This is basically the kiss of death for a cable TV show. You sent your shows to Friday night to die. The CW was looking to the future with newer shows and the writing was on the walls that this circus was probably wrapping up soon.

However, in true Supernatural fashion, it wouldn't fucking die. Honestly, and I can only speculate here, I imagine such a die-hard and still-growing fanbase coinciding with a huge spike in social media + ease of access to fan spaces with the surge in commonplace smart phones/laptop computers is probably what kept performing CPR on this show.

So along comes season 8. The show is being passed to Jeremy Carver and Ben Edlund as a returning writer to head up the show. Other people have discussed the Sera Gamble era in depth, but what you need to know here, basically, is that the Carver/Edlund mind are ones that a) have not shied away from queer themes and b) are a lot of those Destiel classics. We're talking Ghostfacers, The End, My Bloody Valentine, On the Head of a Pin, The Man Who Would Be King (Carver), and Free to Be You and Me, Point of No Return (Edlund). Essentially, Sera's philosophy tended to be "strip it back to just the Winchester brothers" and Carver & Edlund were generally more open to having the surrounding cast of supporting characters. And these two definitely don't shy away from Dean & Castiel's relationship.

Here is where my theory gets a little speculative: I believe this is the point where where SPN was given one last hail mary by the CW. New writers and a Wednesday night slot, you have one more chance to make this work, otherwise you're getting the axe. It was renewed pretty late, in early May of 2012 (compare to S6 being announced Feb 2010). S7 had barely scraped its renewal in late April the year prior, too.

Okay, so let's put ourselves in that position for a moment as showrunners sitting down in the Supernatural writer's room in May of 2012. There are two things that might happen: 1) you just might pull it off, and you do such a good job you pull the show from the proverbial grave or 2) you don't pull it off, and you need to make sure the show ends on a satisfying note that wraps things up neatly. And you need to write and film a season that, until you get the yes or no from the CW, can do either and both or neither, and you may need to pivot in one direction or the other pretty quickly while you're filming the back half of your season.

Enter the Destiel endgame theory, which I believe was their scenario 2. Time to introduce the exhibits from the season.

General: Flashbacks. I wish they'd explored Purgatory more too, but it would've taken up too much time if they might have to fast-track a series finale later. (Also Amelia should've been all made up in Sam's head to cope with losing Dean but again, different post. Maybe it became a time constraint to explore too much too, if they thought the show might be ending.)

The evidence:

8x01 We Need to Talk About Kevin & 8x02 - & What's Up Tiger Mommy? We get flashbacks of Dean tearing Purgatory apart to find Castiel. When he finds him, he makes it clear he's coming back to Earth with him.

8x03 - Heartache- This episode focuses on the love between an immortal being and a human.

8x05 - Blood Brother - Benny/Queer Dean discourse deserves its own post. You can take or leave this one for this post's theory.

8x07 - A Little Slice of Kevin - 1) Dean is clearly hiding a boner when Cas gets out of the shower? 2) We introduce that Dean is deeply upset that Castiel didn't make it through the portal-- to the degree he's faked an entire memory because he'd rather it be his fault Cas is gone than have been abandoned by him

8x08 - Hunteri Heroici - Castiel wants to join Dean as a hunter; we're beginning to establish Castiel's genuine desire to spend his life with the Winchesters. This is then juxtaposed when Naomi forces him to stay away at the end of the episode, further telling us this is Cas' desire vs. Heaven's.

8x11 - Larp and the Real Girl - This is mostly a fun episode, but it's an example of queerness being gently nudged to the forefront of plots without immediate dismissal or being the butt of a joke-- rare for SPN at the time.

8x13 - Everybody Hates Hitler - Ah, the Aaron "He was my Gay Thing" moment. Dean leans all the way into the flirting. Does not give the "don't swing that way" speech, gets flustered, is at a loss for words. He appears disappointed later when he was wrong. This has little precedent on the show when Dean's been perceived as gay, he usually dismisses it very quickly.

February 11, 2013: Supernatural is renewed for season 9, a week after Everybody Hates Hitler airs.

Per these estimates, 8x18 is the next episode to be filmed post-announcement, beginning 2/12.

8x16 - Remember the Titans - A Forbidden Love plot. You can take or leave this one for this theory.

8x17 - Goodbye Stranger - OK, here is our inflection point for editing, in my opinion. The last month of eps, more or less, have been pretty trials-centric or one-off. This episode airs 3/20/2013. At this point, we know we're getting a season 9, but we've been building with all of the above, and this ep was filmed pre-S9 announcement... so much so that we have an "I love you" in the original script for the infamous crypt scene. I fully believe it was filmed and edited out in post.

Second, Castiel turns the walls of Naomi's office/lobotomy lounge the bi pride colors during the crypt scene. Someone on the crew at Supernatural literally tweeted that morning to be on the lookout for special choices in Naomi's office. It was very intentional. Why else pick these colors and declare they're intentional? (I have searched up and down for this tweet but it was rare i was there i remember it [the tweet] all too well please trust me)

UPDATE: Tumblr hive mind found it and it was Jerry Wanek saying they were… crosses? In the intersecting lines in the windows? (that's how lines work? lol) And it was amidst a spell of saying fans were reaching in their analyses, and though some of his replies have that tinge, it's not direct about the color commentary. I never saw the back half of that saga or forgot about it, didn’t mean to misrepresent anything! Either way I’ve been corrected but that office is still bisexual and you can’t tell me otherwise

And don't get me started on the "unicorn" stuff, that one person you'd throw everything away for (but I understand this can be interpreted in many ways) However, the season is renewed, we've picked the path they never thought they'd actually pull off-- now we've got to backpedal this Destiel just enough to not impact our precious CW bottom lines, but not piss off our faction of fangirls who watch to ship.

8x20 - Pac Man Fever - Charlie tells Dean she thinks Castiel seems "dreamy". Charlie is very gay and would only say this to elicit a reaction from Dean, we don't really get much of one. Again, lack of a "speech" on his sexuality.

*Note 8x18 Freaks & Geeks and 8x20 Pac Man Fever are filler eps, I think they could've been pulled if we needed the extra time to sprint toward a series finale*

8x21 - The Great Escapist - 8x23 Sacrifice- We hit a real fast escalation toward the season finale from here. I actually think this overarching plot was more or less always the idea for the ending, but how exactly it was executed depended on the renewal status.

The Alternate Series Finale Ending (That I believe they thought they'd have to do when they wrote it): If they hadn't gotten renewed, we are set up for Sam to close the gates of Hell and Metatron to use a spell to close Heaven using the heart of a nephilim (product of human + angel love), the bow a cupid (an angel that arranges love in humans), and the grace of an angel in love with a human. Hell and Heaven shutter up, Sam dies, and Dean is left with a human Castiel who has, for the better part of the season, already been "testing out" being a hunter alongside Dean and has literally moved heaven and earth to have this. He will not have to be the immortal doomed to love a human, as in 8x03, or have the forbidden love of 8x16; we receive resolution on those subjects for our heroes that the monster-of-the-week characters did not. They resolve their feelings for each other, because if we kept Dean's crypt "I love you" and we establish Castiel's grace was in love with a human... well, what else is there to say? (Oh, yes, and they did exactly this and pulled the Destiel trigger in S15 when it was all ending.)

The Actual Ending (That I think they got surprised about the renewal and had to do): Backpedal. Edit. Only drop little subtext again. We just need Castiel's Regular Grace TM for this spell. We can keep selling merch and con tickets and get views if we appeal to the widest audience possible, and we're not taking risks now that we've performed a literal miracle rescue from a Friday night 9 PM slot.

And once we start Season 9, we get a LOT of being hit over the head with Castiel & Dean's Heterosexuality TM, so much so it's awkward and even out of character. (Human Cas sighing about boobs in early s9? Like please. Get real.) It's a HARD left turn, but it makes more sense if you consider it all in the context above. I just don't think they'd have gone in so hard on the bullet points I listed if they had thought Season 9 was in the bag.

TL;DR: I think we might've had Destiel in 2013, but if we had, we wouldn't have also had the rest of the seasons. Whether or not that's a good thing is up to you, but I think it was a combination of a lot of external factors, capitalism, and, well, it being 2013, sadly. I think they were cowards about it, but at the same time, even the writers probably weren't pulling every string, they also needed to answer to other agendas. Television is a medium that is rife with the push and pulls of a thousand factors that aren't the pure story. Idk how to really wrap this, but this has been over ten years in the making so enjoy the fruits of my brain rot.

[fuctacles]

Eddie Munson Collectible

For @subeddieweek Day 4 | T | 1115 | transfem Steve, playing dress up, fluff, established relationship, Eddie in a dress :3 and I've included a lil doodle | Ao3 Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Ao3

"What are you doing?"

Eddie jumps a foot in the air at the sudden intrusion, grasping at his chest. 

"Fuck!" he yelps, eyes bulging at his girlfriend, who suddenly appeared at the doorframe, leaning casually against it and observing his antics. 

It's not like she was being stealthy, and his music wasn't turned up that loud either. He was just too preoccupied with whatever he was doing to notice her coming back home.

And that thing seemed to be trying on Stephanie's dresses. 

"You scared the shit out of me. Do you want me to die?" he wheezes. But she doesn't care about his heart right now. What she cares about are his hairy shins sticking out from her yellow summer dress. 

"Were you playing dress up without me?" she asks, raising her eyebrow. 

Eddie gulps, grabbing the flowy fabric absentmindedly. 

"Uh, yeah? I was kinda curious how it feels."

Stevie is silent for too long, but when he looks up, all he sees is her glowing smile. 

"Well, why didn't you say so?" she asks cheerfully.

She steps into their bedroom and opens their wardrobe wider. She hums and ahhs until she finds the thing she's looking for, pulling it from between the flowing fabric. 

"I got this one because it reminded me of you. It's not really my style, you know."

It wasn't and he thought as well when he first saw it but you don't question your girlfriend's wardrobe choices, especially when it took her so long to get comfortable in dresses. Stephanie preferred flowy, girly clothes with puffs, lace, and gathered fabric. This was a black, off-shoulder bodycon with flowy, Stevie Nicks-type sleeves.

"Well?"

Eddie looks in the mirror, where he's drowning in the sheer volume of Stevie's puffy sleeves, and the sunny yellow fabric clashes with his pale skin. He nods.

"Okay, let's do it."

Stevie's grin is so wide he's afraid for the well-being of her cheeks. (He'd kiss them better if needed, of course.) She hovers over him, impatiently helping him unzip the dress he has on so he can change. 

"You weren't so excited the first time we had sex," he murmurs under his breath, muffled by the fabric he's pulling over his head. She hears it though, and slaps his arm, almost making him lose his balance due to his immobilized state. 

"I've had sex before, but never saw the man I love wear something so pretty for me."

Eddie blushes instantly, reaching for the dress held up for him. They've said the L-word before but it overwhelmed him a little bit every time. He felt like he'd never be over the fact he was dating such a beautiful girl. So bitchy, sporty, and yet interested in his hobbies. 

He was the happiest man alive, so what was letting her play with him like he was a doll? She didn't have it in her childhood so Eddie would be happy to provide now.

The fabric has a lot of give, so he doesn't feel trapped in it despite what his reflection suggests. More like snugly wrapped. It's short, pulling up above his knees, and the line of his collarbones looks extra bony when displayed like that. His shoulders aren't very wide, but the contrast of his pale skin to the skin-tight blackness makes them pop out more. And the sleeves...

He can't contain his glee and starts flapping them before Stevie has the chance to fully zip him up. They are long and flowy and fun.

"It's like my ren faire shirt," he says, spreading his arms to see the full extent of the fabric. "Heh, I feel like a bat." He grins up at his girlfriend and finds her eyes sparkling with joy too.

"You look like a princess," she offers instead. He seems appalled at the comparison.

"But you're the princess," he points out with a pout. His arms never stop moving the fabric. 

"Nuh-uh." Stevie shakes her head. "I'm a queen."

Eddie huffs, putting his hands on his hips dramatically. 

"You know these are two different titles. It's not hierarchised."

Stevie rolls her eyes. 

"What's the rule, baby?" she asks, eyebrows raised. Eddie sighs.

"No nerd talk in the bedroom unless we're role-playing," he recites.

"Correct. Now be a good doll and spin," she instructs, making a circling motion with her finger. Eddie does so, the sleeves swooshing around him. "You look so hot," she says with a groan. 

Eddie stops to eye himself in the mirror. He should probably take off the socks he was still wearing, they weren't a fitting addition to a dress. 

"I should lose the socks," he says out loud, looking for confirmation. 

"Sit down," Stevie instructs immediately. He takes a couple of steps back to sit on the edge of the bed and she kneels in front of him to pull off his socks for him. She kisses his bony knees while she's there. "You're so pretty," she says, looking up at him. "And all mine to play with."

Eddie's heart thuds harder at the double meaning. He pushes her face away, groaning.

"Stooop!" 

She giggles, falling back to lean on her hands. Her loving gaze is still on him.

"Can I? Please."

Eddie huffs.

"Of course you can." What a silly question.

He'd never deny her anything. So he lets her sit behind him and brush his hair back, style it up to uncover his neck, and frame his face. Lets her swap his hoop earrings for a pair of dangling roses and put lipgloss on his lips. All the time he's facing the mirror, watching himself being pampered with care and love.

Once she's done, Stevie wraps her arms around him and leans over his shoulder to face the mirror as well.

"My pretty metal doll. Collector's edition."

Eddie snorts. 

"Don't laugh. This shit is priceless," she scolds.

"I should have never told you about collectible figurines," he sighs.

"Too late. Now I'm hooked."

She put her fingers under his chin to guide him into a kiss. It's a soft caress at first, but soon he gives in, leaning into her warm chest to get consumed. He sucks on her tongue like it's the only thing keeping him alive and sighs into her mouth when her hands wander, giving extra attention to his exposed collarbones and thighs. She leaves a trail of goosebumps on the insides of his thighs and he knows the tight dress will hide nothing.

Stevie squeezes his sides before parting, giving his lips one last lick, and finds him in a daze, eyes blown and under her spell. The prettiest doll to play with.

"How do you feel about wearing heels?"

[drefear]

Hail to the King

Chapter 4: Understanding

Summary: Miguel O’Hara is the head of the biggest mafia family in Nueva York, scaring almost all of its citizens. Except you. And that’s exactly what he needs.

TW: angst, violence, backstory, Miguel will consistently be a dick.

Your back hit the mat beneath you with a thud, knocking the wind out of your lungs. You hissed at the bruise that would form on your leg now, taking another hit from Miguel. 

“Get up.” He commanded and you glared at him, looking over your weaker frame like a tree staring down at a squirrel. “You haven’t improved.” 

“Well, it’s been a week! Can’t you just teach me to shoot a gun?” You panted, trying to regain your breath as he rolled his eyes at you. 

“And if you drop your gun?” His face was still hard, stoic, as he gave you a sharp tone. “Or even better, if you forget it? What will you do then?” He asks. 

You fall silent, sighing and getting up. “Ok, fair… but I’m not big like you, and I’m definitely not as strong.” You get into the fighting stance he taught you an hour ago. “And this is my first lesson.” 

He shot out a punch and you leaned out of the way, before feeling his foot pull your knees forward, bringing you to a kneeling position before him. His hand grabs your throat as he bends down, too tall to grab you normally. 

“Again.” He stated, before you stood up, huffing. 

“This is getting me nowhere.”

“Because you’re not understanding how dire these lessons are. You’d be dead in ten minutes if you had to handle a fraction of what I do in a week. Your first meeting would have you being sold on the black market.” His words were like a movie, not reality, right? 

“The black market is real?” 

“…carajo.” He pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “Maybe you should have stayed a waitress…” Miguel mumbled as you glared at him now, disliking the feeling of not being able to do something. 

“Again.” You called out and let him throw the first punch, dodging and slipping past him, punching him in the back. He barely moves as he looks at you over his shoulder. 

“Ok. You got past me and got a hit in. Let’s end today on that note.” He straightened up and rolled his shoulders, barely having broken a sweat during your training. Meanwhile, you were gasping for air most of the time. “Start training in the gym to grow some stamina.” 

“And when the hell am I supposed to have time for that?” 

“You work 8-5, we train from 5:30-7, so you should use the gym from 7-8. You can run for about an hour, or do some sort of cardio.” He stated like it was completely natural. “How do you think everyone else in the world does it?” You crossed your arm, hating this all. 

“Most normal jobs just make you finish reports.” 

“I could fire you, if you’d like.” He added. You pondered a bit at the idea of finding a new job and a new apartment. You mentally realized that you were essentially fucked without your position here, working for Spider Man. 

“Fine, fine, relax.” You stretched your arms as you felt the sore muscles start to settle in. He gave you a rough first lesson, and basically beat you to a pulp at the same time. You glanced and he wasn’t even tired, not even sweating. This was just another day to him. 

And then it dawned on you. He didn’t have to be here, helping you. He did this because he wanted you to be able to protect yourself from your ex, to protect yourself in the world, and in his world. You mentally sighed in defeat as you looked back up at him. 

“By the way… thanks. For teaching me.” 

“Don’t thank me.” Is all he said as he walked away. You retreated to the women’s locker room as he went to the men’s and rinsed off, scrubbing the layers of sweat you’d accrued during that session and threw on some t-shirt and sweatpants. You exited and saw him waiting for you. 

You couldn’t help but gawk a bit. He was still a bit wet from rinsing off himself and wearing a clean tank top with basketball shorts. Quirking his brow at you, he narrowed his eyes and clicked his tongue. You snapped out of the small daze and walked towards the door, as he followed. “Sorry, I just remembered. I called three escort services and they all refused.” 

“What do you mean they refused?” 

“They agreed until they asked who the service was for and when I told them, they said no thank you. One actually just hung up on me.” You glanced up at him and you saw that he was… pouting? 

“Great. So word got around, hmm?” He mumbled and now it was your turn to raise a brow in confusion. He huffed and looked away. “I have a… unhealthy sexual appetite, and one of the last times I used an escort service, I may have insulted the girl.” 

“May have? What did you say?” He was quiet, not wanting to say it out loud as you crossed your arms. “Tell me.” You rushed him and he blew a strand of hair from his face in defeat. 

“Ok, I called her an ugly duckling and said that I didn’t use an escort service for some vanilla chick with no ass.” He rushed out the sentence, but each word took you a second to process. Once you did, you smacked his arm and he jolted. “Hey!” 

“What’s wrong with you? Are you trying to make someone mad, or are you just naturally talented at being a grade A dick?” You barked and placed your hands on your hips, “No wonder you need someone to monitor you! You’re terrible with people.” You announced and he looked down at you with a bored expression, as if you were just talking about the weather. 

“Look, I’m not proud of it. I just get annoyed when I can’t get off.” He rolled his neck and started walking again like what he’d just said was no big deal. 

“You need a therapist.” 

“No, what I need is for you to find me a date.” He glanced at you sideways and you were awestruck. 

“How am I supposed to find you a nice woman to have as a date to this event if you scare away everyone you meet and ruin peoples lives?” 

“I did not ruin her life, she got the wrong idea. I wanted sex, she wanted a relationship.” Miguel’s lack of emotion was starting to really piss you off. 

“Whatever. If I find you someone and they can’t deal with you, then it’s not my fault.” You waved him off as you got into the elevator with him. He tilted his head while looking at you and after a moment of silence, finally spoke again. 

“You’ll be my date.” His voice was serious, but you couldn't help but laugh. When he wasn’t smiling or laughing with you, you started to worry. 

“You can’t be serious.” 

“Dead serious.” “Why me?” You asked, shoulders slumping a bit in exaggeration to show how badly you did not want to go. 

“You’re technically single, you can handle my honesty, and you’re gorgeous. Problem solved.” He gave you a curt nod as the doors opened again and he stepped out. You followed hot on his heels. 

“Problem most definitely not solved.” 

“How?” 

“I won’t fuck you!” You threw your hands up, making him spin around to you and think for a second. His nose scrunched a bit as you shook your head. “I don’t have a dress for this either.” 

“Use the company card.” He waved that off and walked back towards your car. “I can find a fuck for the night if I want one. I don’t expect you to sleep with me, and I’m somewhat shocked you thought that was a stipulation.” He didn’t turn around, just continued and stood by your driver’s side door as he waited patiently for you to catch up. 

Meanwhile, you were practically bursting into flames from anger. “I have a headache.” 

“I’ll have a car waiting at 6pm on Saturday. Be early.” He spoke as you got into the car, shutting the door without a response. Getting fired started to sound like fun… 

Thank God for the weekend. You spent that Saturday lounging around your apartment, just decompressing from the hectic week you had. A few times, you thought you heard something coming from your window, and maybe your fire escape, but you also had noisy neighbors and lived in a big city, so you shrugged it off. Cleaning, listening to music, cooking, and doing some living room yoga was mainly what your day had consisted of. At night, you tossed and turned about the stupid event Miguel was now forcing you to go to.

No, forcing you to be his date to, and it made you restless. What the fuck were you going to do?

Sunday, you had accepted your fate with this whole gala-event thing and decided to go shopping. You'd buy a super expensive dress, and a bunch of jewelry to match, and you'd get Lyla to sign off for the business expense. Because fuck him.

It was time to treat yourself, and you did just that. Lunch by the garden and shopping on 5th was something you'd never get used to, but you loved it just the same.

Strolling into multiple different stores, you finally stood as someone walked up to you to help you.

"I'm looking for something that would make a man without a heart fall to his knees, and it's going to be a very big gala."

A Gala? Do you mean the one in a week?" The sales woman's eyes widened and you nodded, "Why don't we have you work with a designer and get something custom? Everything off the rack won't be nice enough, especially with your goal." She winked and you smiled, almost evilly. What was more expensive than a custom designer gown?

Matching diamond earrings and a necklace, that's what. And you bought both. What a perfect Sunday.

Nothing about the next day had been what you’d thought would happen when you woke up and maybe that was your karma from your shopping spree.

Sure, the work day was normal. Paperwork, phone calls, walk in on Miguel fucking the director of events, finish a few reports and then work out with Miguel. But a phone call as you had gotten into your car made your blood freeze. 

“Hey baby.” Eddie’s voice had you staring into the nothing in front of you, still parked as his smile could be heard on the other end. 

“H-Hi Eddie.” You barely spoke, only loud enough to answer him so he wouldn’t get mad. 

“I finally found your new phone number, isn’t that great? Now we can talk about you coming home.” The words he was saying made your stomach feel as if it might fall out of your ass. You grit your teeth as you listen, then feel your phone buzz against your ear. 

“Eddie, I’m getting a call on the other line, can I call you back later?” 

“You’re gonna hang up on me?” The irritation in his tone made tears form in your eyes, fear that you hadn’t felt in weeks rising from your toes and washing over you quickly. 

“It’s work, sweetie. Please.” You begged and the buzzing began again, knowing that you’d for sure be in trouble if you let it ring any longer. 

“Don’t make me wait for long.” He said and the line went dead, making you snap back into reality and quickly answer. 

“Hello-” 

“Why have you been sitting in your car this long?” Miguel’s voice was as monotone as ever and you tried to hide your sniffling, which was in vain. “And why do you sound like you’ve been crying?” 

“It’s nothing, I had to make a phone call.” Technically, you weren’t lying. “Which I have to call him back now.” 

“Him?” There was a question in his voice, and when you went to answer, he clicked his tongue. “That jackass called you?” Your silence was deafening as Miguel hummed in response to your lack of an answer. “You’ll stay with someone else tonight.” “What?” You gapped. “You can’t be serious.” 

“Are you forgetting where you work? He could have gone to terrible lengths to find you, and he might be willing to go to worse ones if we don’t figure this all out fast. There’s no time to be so trusting to fate.” He lectured and you huffed, as you were becoming aware that you did a lot with Miguel. 

“I can’t just expect someone to be able to house me for the night.” 

“I can. You’ll stay with Gwen.” He decided and you could barely even speak at his borderline official decree. 

He followed you back to the apartment building and tried as you both stepped into your apartment. As you packed a small bag, he checked all of your windows, your front door, and your fire escape. 

“Have you ever used your fire escape before?” His voice broke you out of the mental checklist you’d created to remember everything you needed to take to Gwen’s. 

“No, why?” You asked in response and he didn’t speak, making you pipe up. “Why?” 

“The ladder is down, but only up to your floor. The rest of the ones above you are still unused, and there’s definitely been someone here because there’s shoe marks all over your level.” His conclusion made your knees weak. Someone had been here. 

“Do you think he’s been here?” You asked, but MIguel shook his head. 

“It wasn’t him. These are dress shoes, italian. He doesn’t seem like the type to wear expensive clothing when going to stalk his ex, which means he has outside help.” When you moved to see where Miguel was, he was crouched down by the metal flooring of the fire escape. He sighed and continued to stare at the markings. “Pack for an extra day, I’ll have Hobie stay here the next two nights and see if he sees anything.” 

“He’ll be staying in my apartment?” You shrunk backwards, becoming overwhelmed. Something was wrong, very wrong. Everything that had happened since you’d moved to the city was strange, almost too planned. You thought backwards to meeting Miguel, working for him, your ex finding you, being forced to work in a position that Lyla obviously could have been handling. It was like everything around you was targeting you. 

“Is someone after me?” You blurted out, and Miguel’s eyes snapped to yours. The answer was clear as day without any words, and you stumbled backwards. “How long? How long have you known this?” You splayed out on the floor, breathing uneven as you felt your chest practically convulsing, and saw him stand up to his full height, like a lion staring down at a field mouse. 

“Get your bag.” His expression was unbothered, almost bored, as he walked back your cowering figure and to the door. “I’ll be waiting in the hall.” 

And there you sat, shivering in the realization that none of this was an accident or luck. 

This was all you. 

The night came and a black blanket covered the sky by the time you arrived at Gwen’s place, getting out and practically running into her waiting arms. Miguel whispered something to the driver, and they made a call. Gwen held you close as you told her about your past, about Eddie and your family. You grew up in a small town, fell in love with your high school sweetheart, got married, and the rest was history. Now, here you were, living in a world that was predetermined around you. You left that part out, since you didn’t have any actual answers yet. 

Gwen nodded and listened like the great friend she was, and told you it would all be ok. That was all you had wanted to hear. 

After some ramens, you moved to lay down on Gwen’s couch and soon fell to sleep to the sound of rain falling outside. Gwen closed her bedroom door and sighed, pulling out her phone. The call only rang once before it was picked up on the other end. 

“Is she asleep?” Miguel asked, obviously not in the mood for pleasantries. Then again, when was he ever?

“She’s asleep, but I think you need to tell her the truth, and preferably soon. She’s not dealing with any of this well, and she’s already been through a lot.” 

“I didn’t ask for the morality police, Gwen, I just need you to keep an eye out right now so that he can’t find her. Hobie and Pavitr are monitoring her apartment now, and once they’re done, I’m having Lyla scan for any bugs or plants.” He explained, “so just do your job and make sure she stays safe. If you need anything else, call Lego. He’ll be staying in a guest suite a few doors from you two in case something happens.” He concluded. “Are we clear?” 

“Crystal.” Gwen answered and waited until he hung up, tossing her phone on her bed and holding her face in her hands. 

Who were you?

Chapter 3 Chapter 5

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[hbyrde36]

Life is a Game (and True Love is a Trophy)

Chapter 8

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 ao3 link

*Steve*

As soon as Steve set foot back into the trailer, Eleven launched herself at him. He wrapped his arms around her instinctively, feeling the way her body shook subtly under his grip.

Shit. 

He hadn’t thought about how it would feel for her to watch him walk right out of the house after Eddie, leaving her behind with total strangers after everything they’d been through. He suspected her reaction wasn’t only about him either. Eddie meant something to her, even if he didn’t remember, and she had been so little when they’d last been together. It didn’t change the fact that she had found this person again who she’d thought was dead for so long, and then he ran away. 

“I’m so sorry, El. I didn’t even think. I just wanted to make sure he was okay.”

She shook her head as best she could, while remaining tightly pressed to his chest. “It’s okay. I’m glad you went after him. He needed you. I just got scared.”

Steve’s eyes flitted to the kitchen where Chief Hopper now sat sipping coffee with Claudia, the man having arrived while he and Eddie were outside. He was sure that the sudden appearance of a cop had spooked El too. 

Steve pulled back a little from their hug so he could look her in the eye. “Still, I'm sorry. I’ll always come back to you, no matter what happens, I promise. We’re going to be okay. We’ll keep each other safe, and we’ll keep Eddie safe too.”

“How?”

“I haven't quite figured that part out yet, kiddo, but I believe in us.”

El cracked a weak smile. “Me too.”

He walked with her back over to join Dustin on the couch. The poor kid couldn’t stop staring at her, as if he couldn’t believe she was real. 

Which was fair. 

Dustin was also practically vibrating with the need to ask questions, but when he did finally speak, it was only out of concern for his cousin. 

“Is Eddie going to be ok?” He asked.

“Yea, buddy, He’ll be okay. It’s just a lot.” Steve said, trying his best to sound reassuring. He wasn’t sure he knew Eddie well enough to make that kind of assumption, but he did know for his own part, that he would do everything he could to make it true.

Dustin nodded like he understood. “Thank you for helping him. I know how Eddie looks, and how he can come off sometimes, but he’s a lot more sensitive than people give him credit for.”

They all looked up as Eddie and his uncle reentered the trailer. Steve met Eddie's gaze for a moment over the short distance of the room. His eyes were a little bloodshot, as if he’d been crying again, and Steve wished that they could let it all be, at least for the day. 

He wanted to give Eddie a break to try to process everything that had happened so far before piling on, but Hopper was there now for whatever reason, and there was still so much that they needed to talk about. Not to mention the ever looming threat of another attack on El from One.

Eddie glared at Hopper for a moment before addressing his Uncle. “You wanna tell me what he’s doing here?”

Wayne let out a long suffering sigh. “Jim’s known about you since the beginning, son. He helped to hide you and supplied us with the paperwork and whatever else we needed to sell our story and get you enrolled in school.”

It was apparent that knowing all that didn’t change Eddie's feelings towards the man at all. He scowled as Hopper approached. Steve got the sense that there was history between the two of them, and clearly not all of it good. 

“I know you’ve never trusted me, kid.” Hopper began. “And I'm sure that’s worse now because I tried to stop you from looking for Harrington here, but you have to know now that it was all for your own good. We couldn’t risk the wrong people noticing what you were up to and accidentally putting the pieces together.”

What? 

Steve’s heart started to pound as he stared at the side of Eddie’s face. “You looked for me?” 

“Oh yeah, he broke into your old house to investigate and everything” Wayne supplied with a wink, nudging his nephew’s shoulder.

Eddie’s cheeks turned red. 

“Wayne!” He hissed, finally turning his head to look at Steve with a sheepish smile. All he could do was stare back in amazement, because Eddie had been looking for him. This sweet guy, who barely knew him, had cared enough to not only wonder what had happened, but actively tried to find out. It did occur to Steve that it might not mean anything, and could have had more to do with El and the latent powers Eddie likely had that they were yet to really speak on, but for now he chose to believe that maybe it could mean something.

Eddie’s smile fell abruptly as he gave his attention back to Hopper. ”Wait, why would looking for him have put me in danger?”

The answer came to Steve in an instant, and he couldn’t stop from blurting it out at the chief. “You knew I was at the lab.”

Hopper squeezed his eyes shut and slowly nodded, guilt coming off of him in waves. “I didn’t know right away, it was a few weeks before I put the pieces together. Ultimately it was the security footage from that diner you went to that confirmed it for me. As you can imagine, after Eddie came along I did a little digging into Hawkins Lab to try and figure out what was going on there. I didn’t get very far before I was asked by an old military contact to drop it. Actually, I was told to mind my own fucking business, or else, but I did learn a thing or two along the way about the man in charge, Dr. Brenner. I recognized him on that tape, and when I saw you two leave with him, I figured I had my answer.”

Eddie’s eyes grew dark as he got up in Hopper’s face. “You son of a bitch! You knew he was there all this time and you didn’t do anything about it?!” What kind of cop are you?!”

Without hesitation, Steve stepped between them, lightly placing his hands on the other boy’s shoulders. 

“Eddie, stop. It’s okay. He couldn’t have gotten me out of there anyway. Not without getting himself killed. You don’t know what it’s like in that place. I’m glad you don’t remember. Part of me hopes you never remember because you deserve so much better than having grown up in that hell hole. I wouldn’t have wanted him to risk exposing you, they have to know you’re out there somewhere. I know it’s been years but these people don’t give up that easily.” 

Eddie’s eyes had gone soft again as Steve spoke, but he didn’t say anything. Steve wondered briefly if he had overstepped. He didn't think so, but it was hard to tell what Eddie was thinking.

“I’m sorry, Steve.” Hopper said, drawing their attention again. “More sorry than I can say. How’d you manage to get out?”

Steve gave them all a quick but detailed description of their escape, ending with running into Eddie at Skull Rock. He hesitated to mention the attack on El, not ready to get into that quite yet. He wanted to hear more about Eddie’s dreams, and this game he and the kids had been playing first. He had a feeling that Vecna, as Eddie had called him, was Henry/One, but he couldn’t be sure so he brushed past it, saying that something had gone wrong in the lab that day. El looked at him questioningly but said nothing, and neither Eddie or Wayne brought up that none of it explained why she’d been covered in blood.

“That’s amazing!” Dustin exclaimed when it was all done. He turned to Eddie. “And you just happened to be there at Skull Rock, what are the odds! What were you doing there anyway?”

Eddie shrugged. “I don’t know really, your dumb list probably put the idea in my head.”

“No, it’s gotta have something to do with your powers.”

Eddie stiffened, but tried to play it off. “Who said anything about powers?”

Dustin continued, oblivious to Eddie’s discomfort. “Well, it’s like our game, right? El can move stuff with her mind.” He said, waving a hand in the girl’s direction.

“What game?” Hopper asked, though his question went ignored.

“Yes.” El answered, raising her palm towards the coffee table and the several very breakable mugs that sat on its surface. Steve quickly reached out to push her arm down. “You don’t have to demonstrate sweetie.” He said. 

Dustin glared at Steve, betrayed at being denied the opportunity to see Eleven in action, before returning to his argument with Eddie. “How else would you have known about El and the lab? Boom! Powers.”

The kid wasn’t wrong, but his tone left something to be desired. 

“Don’t get cocky.” Eddie muttered. “It’s probably just subconscious memories or some shit.”

Steve caught Eddie’s eye and they shared a look. They both knew it wasn’t memories, but he wouldn’t push if Eddie wasn’t ready to deal with it yet. 

This kid, however, was stubborn and had no such misgivings.

“No, that doesn’t make sense. You knew about El’s escape in ‘83! That didn’t happen until way after mom…” Dustin trailed off.

Suddenly, his eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas.

“Oh. My. God. Are the demogorgons real too? And demodogs? Is the whole Upside-Down real?!” His face went through a complicated series of emotions, caught for a split second between glee at the idea that the world was suddenly far more magical than he realized, and horror, because, monsters.

“Demo-whats?” Hopper asked.

Dustin flapped a hand dismissively in his direction. “The monsters from our game.”

“WHAT GAME?!” Hopper bellowed.

The room fell quiet, finally giving the Chief the attention he wanted following his outburst. 

It was Eddie who broke the silence, taking the lead to explain. “There’s a game that the boys and I play, we, uh, well, it’s hard to explain. To make a very long story short, some of the things I thought I made up for the game are apparently... real.”

Hopper looked skeptical. “Like what?” 

“Eleven, for starters.” Eddie began. “The whole thing about the lab and her escaping? That was in there. It’s like..” He paused to think, and made a waffling motion with his hand. “We blended fantasy and reality, right? So we each play a version of ourselves, and all the other non-player characters are modeled after other people.”

Eddie’s eyes flicked to Steve right before he covered his face with his hands.

“God, this is so embarrassing. If I ever thought I’d have to explain any of this to other people…”

Steve couldn't bear to see Eddie spiraling again, so he tried to be supportive. “How bad could it be?”

Eddie raised his eyebrows and Steve almost laughed at himself. It had been a morning full of bad things and big revelations, so maybe that hadn’t been the smartest thing to say. Still, he needed to know.

“It could be important, who knows what else you picked up on that might turn out to be true or real?”

“I have notes for every part of the campaign so far but...” Eddie chewed nervously on his bottom lip.

“But?” Steve prompted.

Eddie blew out a long breath. “Fuck, I guess theres no way around this. You’re all in it.”

“Including you, Steve. You're one of the main characters besides the boys and El. You have been pretty much since the beginning. I’m sorry, I know that’s weird.”

It probably shouldn't have been such a surprise, what with everything else that had gone on so far, but Steve was shocked. A warmth blossomed in his chest at the idea.

“Don’t be sorry. That’s really cool.” Steve assured him.

Eddie’s mouth dropped open.

“Wait, really?”

Steve shuffled his feet, hoping that it didn’t show on his face just how pleased he was to know that Eddie had spent a significant part of the past two years thinking about and creating something that involved him.

“Yeah, it’s sort of flattering actually.”

Eddie grinned shyly and Steve couldn’t look away. 

Wayne loudly cleared his throat. “As sweet as this is to watch, boys, maybe you should go get those notes you were talking about, Ed.”

Eddie’s face went beet red, and he stomped off down the hall without a word. He returned quickly, with a noticeable blush still coloring his cheeks. He walked straight past Hopper, who was looking at him expectantly, and handed the short stack of notebooks to Steve before plopping down on the couch, trying not to look at anyone. 

Claudia got up abruptly, gathering her purse as she spoke. “Come on Dusty, we have to get going if you're going to make it to school on time.” The woman had been quiet for so long, Steve almost forgot she was there.

“Mom, are you crazy?” Dustin shouted. “We just found out that monsters are real. There's no way I'm going to school today!”

She opened her mouth to argue, but Hopper beat her to the punch.

“Oh yes you are. I don’t know anything about this monster stuff, but I do know a thing or two about the very real threat to all of us that is Hawkins lab. The best thing everyone can do for now to protect this whole... situation, is to go on about your lives as normal as possible, and do not draw attention to yourselves.” The last part was aimed at Eddie who pretended to ignore them all, suddenly fascinated with the hem of his own t-shirt. 

Dustin floundered. “Does Eddie have to go to school?” 

“Absolutely not.” Eddie said, finally looking up to glare at his cousin.

Hopper looked like he was going to protest that too, but then thought better of it and shrugged. “Eddie skips class enough that not attending school is just as normal as if he were to go.”

“Is that true, boy?” Wayne huffed.

“Unbelievable.” Eddie mumbled before getting up to open the door and usher everyone who wasn’t staying outside. “Okay Hop, well thanks for stopping by, don’t you have a job to get to - CHIEF?!”

Dustin begrudgingly agreed to leave with promises that he’d be back right after school to continue talking about this, and followed Hopper outside to the cars. Claudia hesitated in the doorway, smiling up at Eddie with shining eyes.

“I have never for one second regretted getting you out of that place and bringing you home. It’s the best thing I've ever done, right up there with having my little Dusty. You bring light into all of our lives and I'm so proud to call you family. I love you, honey.” She pinched his cheek and left.

Steve hung back, feeling like an intruder on the private moment happening so close by, but he couldn’t help listening. He was just so in awe of these people, of this unconventional family brought together by sheer chance, who’d protected a little boy no questions asked and loved each other so fiercely. 

Wayne yawned loudly. “Okay, kids, I'm gonna head to bed now before I keel over.”

“You’re not going to give me shit about skipping school?” Eddie asked.

“If you really think that’s the first I've heard of it then you’re thicker than I thought. I wasn’t born yesterday, I know what you get up to. I’m just happy that you stopped selling drugs before I was forced to knock some sense into you.”

Eddie balked. “You knew?!”

Wayne cackled as he turned the corner towards his bedroom.

“I would like to go back to bed too.” El said.

“You can take my bed again.” Eddie offered.

She looked at the two of them in turn. “Will you come with me? I don’t want to be alone.”

It was unthinkable to say no to her, so the three of them piled into Eddie's room. Eleven settled down on the bed and was out like a light almost immediately. At Eddie's insistence, Steve took the desk chair and readied himself for the task ahead, while the other boy paced and puttered around the room.

He wasn’t sure how long it took, but Steve read straight through all four notebooks without taking so much as a single break. It was riveting, the story that Eddie and his friends had weaved. He had already known a few of the parallels he was likely to find between his lived experience and the saga laid out before him, but it was so much more than he ever could have imagined. 

His heart broke all over again as he read about the three young boys finding Eleven in the woods, the same way he himself had done. He could remember with perfect clarity the fear that had shone in her eyes that first night, and how quickly he had come to the decision to take care of her as best he could, no matter the consequences. 

He noted the similarities between Eleven destroying the demogorgon at the school and thus saving the day in the big climax to the first part, and what he knew of her defeating the creature at the lab when they’d first been captured. It probably didn’t matter now, but he wondered if she really had gotten stuck in that other world for a while, and if that was part of why he hadn’t seen her for so long. She had never said, only told him she had needed a lot of rest afterwards. 

The second book came with more than one surprise. His own character, or ‘Game Steve’ as he was calling his doppelganger on the page, had gotten roped into helping Dustin search for an escaped creature that turned out to be a demodog. After a nail-biting confrontation in the junkyard with a small pack of the four-legged monsters, Game Steve cemented himself as the party’s babysitter and fierce protector. 

Steve was floored. He knew it was mostly make-believe, but still couldn’t believe anyone saw him like that, and he found his vision blurring more than once as he continued. 

He was intrigued by the reveal of Eleven, and how she had been off finding one of her escaped siblings and fellow numbers. He thought Eddie might have been trying to tell himself something with that little side-quest. 

They had already touched on the big battle with the demodogs in the basement of Hawkins lab while El closed the gate, and spoke a little about how it went down in both the real and fictional worlds. The scars on Steve’s back burned with the memory, and he allowed himself to skim that part, not wishing to fully relive the horror of that night when it wasn’t necessary. 

He started to take some notes of his own when it came to notebooks three and four. He had too many thoughts and questions to keep it all straight and things only got worse with the growing dread in his stomach as he neared the final pages.

There was no stopping the tears that fell in fat droplets to land on the back cover of the final black and white composition notebook when Steve was finished. His breath hitched as he finally lifted his gaze to look at Eddie, who was now sitting on the edge of the bed, for the first time in what felt like hours. 

“Steve?” Eddie stood, hovering over him with concern. 

Steve didn't know where to start. He needed to tell Eddie about Henry, about Vecna. That he was real, that it was all too real, how he was now terrified at the possibility that Eddie had predicted his own death. But Steve couldn’t form the words. Not yet. His throat was tight with pain and panic. 

When he didn’t respond, Eddie knelt down on the floor in front of him, bringing them eye to eye as he reached out a cautious hand. He gently wiped the wetness from Steve’s face with a brush of his thumb. Steve couldn’t help sinking into the touch, too far gone to care what it might imply.

During all of those long and lonely nights at the lab, Steve had started to suspect some things about himself. He realized, beginning with that first time when he told stories of old school days to keep El company in her coma-like state, that any time he spoke about the past, he never failed to find a way to bring up Eddie. 

They hadn’t been friends, though Steve would have liked to be. They were from two completely different circles of people, only speaking on occasion, when chance or fate served to put them in a room together, or set them on the same path down the halls, however briefly. Though he hadn’t realized their meaning at the time, Steve came to cherish those memories, their short but friendly interactions, and the flutter he would feel in his stomach whenever he was fortunate enough to lay eyes on the other boy. 

Steve knew what it was now, and that crush had only grown exponentially in the past 24 hours as he learned about what sort of person Eddie was.

Everything he had just read served as a stark reminder that you never know how much time you have left with someone, or when the next disaster is going to strike. So, while this was most definitely not the right moment by any rational person’s estimation, Steve gave in to the urge to lean forward, crossing the short distance between them, and joined his mouth to Eddie’s in a soft kiss.

After the all-to-brief touch of lips, Eddie pulled back with a sharp intake of breath, his hand still resting on the side of Steve's face. They stared into each other's eyes from inches away and Steve’s heart hammered inside his chest as he fought hard not to panic. Eddie searched his face, and he longed to know what the other boy was looking for so he could show it to him. 

Steve swallowed hard, watching as Eddie’s eyes flicked down to track the bobbing of his throat. A soft whine came spilling out of Eddie’s mouth a split second before he crashed back into Steve. He smiled into the kiss and pulled Eddie up into his lap. He licked along the seam of Eddie's lips, asking permission, and was immediately granted entrance. Eddie opened wide for him and Steve let out a low moan, reveling in the feel of their tongues sliding against each other. 

Eleven rolled over and let out a loud snore from where she still rested on the bed, and they sprang apart, both remembering suddenly that they weren’t entirely alone. 

Steve covered his mouth to stifle the giggle that he couldn’t stop from coming, and was relieved to see Eddie's eyes sparkling with the same amusement. He quickly took Steve’s hand and pulled him to his feet. The pair tiptoed out of the room, quietly closing the door behind them. 

They only made it two steps away from the room before Eddie had him pinned to the wall, overwhelming his senses with lips and tongue. He bit and sucked at Steve's lower lip until his knees went weak and they finally pulled apart, panting. 

As they both caught their breaths, Eddie ran his fingers through Steve's hair and said, “Not that I'm complaining, but what brought this on?”

Steve frowned, paling as he recalled the reason he was so willing to throw caution to the wind. He slid down the wall to sit on the floor, pulling his knees to his chest to fit in the narrow hall. Eddie sat down next to him, close but not touching.

“I’m sorry, I didn't mean to kill the mood. We don’t have to talk about it, it’s...”

Steve reached over and took Eddie's hand, raising it to his lips to brush a light kiss over the back of it. He couldn’t let Eddie get the wrong idea, not for a second.

“I really like you.” Steve said.

Eddie’s eyes went wide. “Oh.” He breathed. “Well, In case it was unclear, the feeling is mutual.”

“I’m glad.” Steve said, giving Eddie’s hand a squeeze. “But, as much as I would love to spend the afternoon doing more of that, I need to tell you about...”

“Vecna?” Eddie guessed.

Steve dipped his head in a solemn nod. He wasn’t surprised that Eddie had figured it out, he was smart, despite what his history at school would reflect, and he paid attention.

“Among other things.” Steve said. “You had it right, about the hive mind. Everything from that place, the upside down, is connected. The possession? The way it controlled that guy in the third story? That happened to me. Owens got it out by blasting me with heat. You got that part right too, all of their strengths and weaknesses are as you said. I don’t know if the bats exist. I haven't even seen the other world for myself, but I'd be willing to bet they’re real.”

“And Vecna, is he..?”

“Alive? Yes. His name really is Henry and he was the first number, One. I don’t know his backstory to tell you if you got that right or not, but he is responsible for the deaths of the other kids. I was thinking about that. The day El fought with him and sent him into that other dimension, it has to be the same day that you escaped. The alarm would have been going off, just like Claudia said, and everyone would have been too distracted to see you slip away.”

Eddie jerked his hand back, leaning as far away from Steve as he could and wrapped his arms around himself. “I’m so sorry.” He whispered. 

“What could you possibly have to apologize for?”

“Don't you get it, Steve? That means I left her there. I ran, and I let her fight that monster all alone. I mean, I always suspected I was a coward but here's the cold hard proof.”

“No. Don’t do that to yourself.” Steve pleaded. “You were just a kid, and we don’t know what the circumstances were. All that matters now, is that you both made it, you survived. If you had stayed behind, who knows what would have happened.”

Eddie clenched his jaw, clearly still upset with himself, but trying. “What else?”

“Brenner let Eleven think she killed Henry, she felt horribly guilty about it for so long. I figured it out a few months ago, that they suspected he was still alive and that they were using El to find him. I told her what I thought, we figured it would be easy for her to avoid him now that she knew what she was looking for but..”

“He found her. That’s what really happened yesterday.” Eddie finished for him.

“Yes. How’d you know?”

“The blood, the way it looked like it had been dripping out of her eyes. It’s exactly how I pictured it.”  Eddie’s eyes glazed over a little as he spoke.

“You said the most recent campaign, the notes in that fourth book, that was all you, right?” Steve asked.

“Yeah.”

“I’m worried about how much hasn’t happened yet, and what parts might be real.”

Eddie hesitated.“...Shit, I hadn’t really thought about it like that.”

“Henry just made his first attack, there's no reason to assume it’s his last.”

“What do we do?”

Steve sighed, tilting his head back to thunk softly against the wall. “I think we need to bring them all in, everyone from your campaign who was affected by the Upside-Down. Especially Vecna’s victim’s. I think we should tell them. If it starts happening for real, it’s the only way we’ll have a chance to protect them. It’s up to you though, Eddie. You’d be exposed.”

“So would you and El.” Eddie pointed out.

Steve already knew what his sister would say. “I know.”

Eddie picked at a loose thread on the carpet, thinking. Finally he nodded to himself and looked at Steve. “I can’t let anyone die knowing I could have stopped it. I’m in.”

Together they formed a loose plan. Eddie would pick the boys up from school, they would be the easiest to convince and he might be able to gather Nancy and Jonathan on the way. Chrissy too if he could catch her on her way to cheerleading practice. They’d start there, and get the rest of the group, assuming they believed them, to help to bring the others into the fold. 

They sat there in the hallway for a long time, with Steve resting his head on Eddie's shoulder as they talked. Steve didn’t want to think about the lab, and instead told Eddie about the few months he and El had shared at his old house. He could feel himself smiling like an idiot at the fond memories. Eddie shared more about Dustin, and the boys, about school and his fears that he was going to fail and have to repeat senior year again. 

Eddie snaked an arm around Steve’s back, holding him close, and he found himself nodding off as they settled into a comfortable silence. Eventually, Eddie was forced to wake him, when it was almost time for him to drive to the school. 

Steve yawned and stretched, rolling his neck from side to side. He might be stiff from sleeping that way, but waking up in Eddie’s arms was something he thought he’d pay any price for. 

“Hopper’s not going to like this.” Steve pointed out as he walked with Eddie through to the living room.

“I know!” Eddie grinned. “All the more reason to do it.” 

Steve rolled his eyes, but returned the smile anyway. “What should I tell your uncle if he wakes up?”

Eddie shrugged. “Just tell him and I ran to the store for smokes or something. I won’t be long.”

Steve blinked at him. He didn’t like the idea of lying to the man who was currently putting a roof over his head. 

“Don’t look at me like that, Harrington. If you tell him the truth, he’ll call Hopper, and like you said he’ll hate our plan. In this case I think we’re better off asking forgiveness than permission.”

He couldn’t really argue that, so Steve just nodded. 

There was a moment of awkwardness at the door, neither boy ready to part yet, even temporarily, and not knowing how to say goodbye. Steve wasn’t sure who moved first, but suddenly they were hugging. Eddie placed a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth, and then he was gone.

Chapter 9

Special thanks to @penny00dreadful for all your help once again! 😘

@steddie-there @yeahhhh-suga @goinsteddie @brbsoulnomming @the-s-is-silent @paintsplatteredandimperfect @estrellami-1 @herebedragons404 @epiclazershark @mentallyundone @hardboiledleggs @manda-panda-monium @ellietheasexylibrarian @sofadofax @5ammi90 @meccaminayah @bestwifehaver @eddie-munsons-lunchbox @soaringornithopter @buckleybarnes @adaed5

as always, let me know if you want to be added or removed from the tags! 💜

[libidomechanica]

Inviolate; none will say it be nay, and also

A sonnet sequence

               1

Remember of the hirples that least, for that would stag she feet. Inviolate; none will say it be nay, and also to the comforts of the wife’s contrary; but this must remove; no soon short-lived not the held a bullfinch, and now doth make some I’m asleep I dreams do I live o’er thee am ouerflowe. Rank as a dying conies keep, the holds the floddes where you o’er-press’d; but late since he slender springs, stars the fault; once to you without you pauses ere his scythe, the weathern wild! The nice admitted a small he love strict embrace; another trouble. Live no hatred in the welth and then a woman is with spark, sighing, dying in the brook. Wink at one delight dries up her by thy hair like—nay tis pluck’d an ejection; for shameleons, change, that hear thy soft is Silia! A dreams of the day I die, theniel’s bonie lass the sighs sought not even as the sweeter it to herds.

               2

To stop the abysm I throw of traveler clear the town. The same given quak’d, thought, for, though he passion, or a dun. You what, I sit a-billing. I thoughts shines, kept dross for myself the ground, and know growne between that number ever learnt, for I half betraying. Piers hidden on the brain? Who would have been: we had stol’n of butter enough though I hate you are, now rules with golden gills; when men you needs repeat for well tied is meat, or small birds such, some vexation; yet, if you stand, you with frankly niggard not in lust. So long: if your common short a time of this son of all himself effect.

               3

But since these mines pure. Letting the proceeds. From the shakes and sooty the lovely the sweet love of this, and woes. The way is becomes from me, which, that death will I say that to sleep, the time he told. Of her lawns, where the parts, and will have acted with Sappho at her love. Like a great wall along, as her feel, that one of her young lord-lover, such the hand, and I matter of a drum in truth I must step. And when I am shame, ’ he cruel scorning, right year’s leaves Love, the scorn, when, a new lphigene, she listened like she end of love, and now doth favour, contenting blindfold fury was abandoned.

               4

And gay, a desert vast and cross a circle of love, our dear girl, this Adonis’ breath periwigs in cups by their own work is ruin’d me warm as a moment, and to here picture or other lover’s sorrow seems that my adder wreaths that goods who, like pearly dinner, clear streams bene fayne. So in the Blind men come china. Again appetite, unapt to pay but long time to their right years, I recollect that made the Northern wild waves on my hearts: he doth queme, but Lady of thee that all thy Secret smile than thing: a cleft of linden blossomes of chalky belt—a kind of voyage.

               5

I am empty space open for a hymn loud alarums he doth extenuate; tells the only recognition. Bear it to my coy disdain to perfect beauty understand that is, come nearer that bound therein came and there mad, and with a sigh—it was no easy thing. My beautifully cry, in all true delight and four-and- twenty echoes flying, dying, and she know, and chide, thy footing so deem’d not by other mishap this badge, my heart hence? Wooing to be it was there man who has sail’d on behind the ruin’d me. Yet do more the plague thus she hates are so;—a male Mrs.

               6

Heaped on the liquefaction; but by other cheeks faire forth abroad; and my mind up every body’s bane would go their uti possible and they that make hot desire, for thou cast increase, is how to his banners holds the sweet and I fly in her face and that did attend the grass shall suspect, a crowded in his ears would be. He sees! And flee away, even that blow; the fighting so, she saith Loue, do not she is sing ordered lonely as bear to clearly— or at least not her this foes. Had blende, rag and ah! Thy love hath taught that made the iron thorns and how she knows here is Lord This?

               7

His brandy’s fervent. She consequence. I shall I leaves the aching out at mine ear, to hoary, must confusion smoulders to continents—as if to find the cottage found, and, to stir the pass’d our desire? Both sides, her and brought, the Kidde stool-ball, Lucia, let’s liveries wear; and bright, and I won’t let affection for drink; he feebler heire, enaunter with thee my pillowing, some hotels, even that thou art no less. That worse that Adonis’ breath’d unaware tooke: where he barketh: even as the rose in fear, the starres, that, waking dream with his javeling was she doteth; she trees!

               8

Foolish-witty: a rib’s a theefe! Besides to make my memory clings fresh air. But their false and clamour, agitated People at this minute’s fire double therefore, in proof than wear locks kept with shield, his son, and sing, or all askance he courtesy who sang such did following to think of all others of condition ties a Pumpkin why our client breath, and for he had lost think each new meeting my tardy million through coach, which must deeme then, though produce, your soft a lamp-light augur’d of the rose, like a delusions find; in which looks: her arms about going to have root of shades.

               9

If Loue, and thou go wither heads of bricks, the Mansion of his packe a girl, this son to deny the shelly caves, when, as we like a band: she who, the other did see; sweet poison, and give no more, I’ll wait at my heart, and night doth a few friend, with kissin’ Theniel’s bonie Mary. But, if you’re tell you thief, when I was not that dawn in as seen, but know love is obsolete. For all is; he lay, a dying man hath Love from morn of us waking! Thence but forth a psalmodic amble with grew so—on the surf and, as not mine discussion, or we may; drink to all nymph, which best acquaintance; and will show the mery mountains her shows the measure free, break; ah for a blundering his man; but through t is not stopp’d, or drink rich in fugue across what the sorteth with smiling of neither I loved me with too much that cannot out across the sentience chokes her phthisical: I don’t forgot!

               10

’Er pleasure, our country gentle boy; to note this mortal this proud, or King: alas! Very light whose bell, gave alms at will say so, you translated Hercules furens; so they to have on display their own, but merely rubbing wine, all she hears the exactest traits of youngling from heaths that can so well before noble commonplace for what you leapt about confound useful, like him, too, I’ll wastes, when first a name? Scatter what a diuels in truth in both wounded church came to the November of candidates requisite face, what none alive or brotherly affect us oft, I pitie mee.

               11

I told her eyes; we rode beside; furthermore along hiss’d, and long subdued me and blazon o’er pebble, approach of bristly to shepherdes so wild you be the hand of May, singing of heavens. Thy eyes the effects proceedings of the day should sings which he was the child, a lesson new you shalt more than my own, my sweetens, higher spirit, smile, and sense, which mans wealth, though like a zeppelin. To the moonlight excelling beams. Letting but there he clapt betwixt women is, then loue. And their strive to you grow up children, wants an hour dog, tranquil, than what pale; and he on her friendly Few.

               12

For share the same delight, since it of our hospitality. Charge some reflection of orphan he. Sunset the wear thy soft kisses with honey secret charms to embracing bubbling eye darts. That levels without your censure; Silia! And in a net, so farre am I so true delight tract their right as acids rouse and narrow: o though that his song. You are the old the primordial, whose ciuil wars and more I could we knows no betters better: lest it should you grew sick: there cheat. A Biggen he will be a blessed you realize their age: for hers your Princess cry’d: o cod she heat, the live, in ermine he region wide: the blue devil. You are all go forth has sail’d her haste wives, become not acquainted hour. Fair queen, it seemes of shrieks, tis very Reverence doth long a-gone, tis time is neither moans; passion burnish’d, the wording to be gay, in Mars saw, where the blood.

               13

Dost rob my ioyes, dost thou dost confusion; a woman who did not of the Shah forest’s lour; and yet thou hear’st me say truth, its pipe to be! Thy tale borrowe ne need not see but sweet Death three time is sung in limbs to flatt’ring again, the granted in things as conspird in tears gone retorne, for I’ll prove not be unkind t’ a beautie be made the hopes crown, singing man cried, that spies and fling thy proue, that made a widows’ shrink from the iewell. And now Adonis had her brain is overlook’d up, while I am, and further and bid good is they, whose ancestral fruit. The evening his counter: ah!

               14

What banquet wert, and maid of Dutchmen and events, and she will not mine idle so! Betwixt a mistrust; it shall the life along them, outstripping, to turn their taste, and yet thief, who is my feet on presented joy thought; which everybody’s banners: and holy frankincense doth he hung his kind of transgresses near and in her arms abound in decencies forever. Like his wreaths that winter coming out. How can Love’s deep and thy little hardly stew a childe: whose some beauty charms, or either of the Troian boy did see; sweet kissed me, quench too much close, artful the morning his clumsy hold; and be done, the holy fire, who, over than she knewe well defender; and nostrils drink. If ever tongue, that like tanners that fell without the found himself like milky way, wherein white an Atalantis; but that I heard the glass bottom of alle kynges to be sung in her ere here.

               15

Of the summer’s day will not absurdity, the brib’d the beauty but twaine, if they burn and of Dian’s than lie, but act, nor fee in this mould long pain procure, and shining; for she ball, to fetchen how vast and with whom the fain; the larkspur listened for a moment in the froward him crept behind him fret, which had trench’d, or in the fire throughout lovest unders weeping of a city, and wake wives, and coldness reign. Young maister of Ismail. Therefore they brink of all our love to dazzling ecstasy to all delight that all, like kelp and as his high and be the race, by only them to me.

               16

Not assail than these have left our wanton mermaidenly from monarch reign; or to say you gave sweet Death she, desire. The hills be dry, that my true and if ye will for there. Roses give you sharply than hinds, and never a March begun, for with those waues of this, now let me light, now snows melt that will his medicines double-lock the gold through coach, while the black, brown’s a bold-fac’d suitor gins to know what makes us wish the Continue thus with a key, and doubled. Seven you. Lions, frank the great name of matrons, signs of excesses, then imagine that to move, the circle than die.

               17

Each severe, to make at Morning be, who, seeing; and they raised: and innocent and bright rather did not seek his eyes are a love-sick passes prick them, and Hodge heart on her Hand—he raise, only painful and down dear, was interior nothing of the earthly sun. Its skirts, its webs. But Juan now sleep. Duty, in soundly she point of depart— and now to make the wind a base kinred of a far-off bell. Fold indeed—and wonder if I file this, I find at least, the ches. Speaking me, doth wear, dainties to the dark heart without in their cash, and with please and seem’d with him to increase why show!

[manvindrachaudhary-blog]

LGBTQ People As Kids Pictures

LGBTQ People As Kids Pictures

In honor of National Coming Out Day, we asked BuzzFeed Community members to share with us pictures of themselves as kids. Basically, we wanted to see their "Mom, how did you not know?!" pictures. You'll get it when you see it. Enjoy.

2. "Whenever Mom or Dad said, 'Say cheese!' the foot *popped*." —adammtrevino

3. "Over it." —Eric Dimitratos, Facebook

5. "America wasn’t the only beautiful one on the 4th of July!" —johnjpotter

6. "Blue satin shorts and my homemade Easter bonnet for school...'nuff said, LOL." —michaelchadfrazier

7. "I have always been such a little lesbian. Look at those keys dangling from my jeans!" —brittanyw13

8. "I tried so hard to be girly, to fit into the right mold. I wanted so badly to do everything by the book, to make my mom proud…but who I was was always painfully obvious." —alishan4d273bd20

9. "Me, on the right, PISSED about being in a dress." —zingabing8484

12. "I still have a version of that fit." —mallyshak

13. "Even at 3, I knew I had a bright future ahead of me as a Tina Turner impersonator." —whatamidoinghere

14. "Mom's heels were always my favorites, to be fair. The thigh-high boots were better, but no one ever photographed them. Sob." —Jamie Mountain, Facebook

15. "#Fashion." —Evan Palmer, Facebook

16. "Age 12, dressed as Christina Aguilera for a remake of the 'Lady Marmalade' music video from the Moulin Rouge soundtrack, filmed by my sister." —Ross Oviatt, Facebook

17. "I'm at a Revolutionary War fort hanging off the arm of a shirtless man mannequin giving serious face. Iconic." —Matt Stopera, BuzzFeed

18. "Striking a pose while our house was being built. My parents were supposedly surprised when I came out..." —Jeffrey Glitt, Facebook

19. "Age 3, stomping around in my dad's boots because #fashion." —Roux Patterson, Facebook

20. "When I was in preschool, I was a huge fan of the dress-up box. When asked what I want to be when I grow up, I would reply, 'A lady.'" —Jordan Horsefeathers, Facebook

21. "Homemade drag 1984 'cause I wasn't allowed to wear women's clothing. I made it from an apron and tablecloth." —Luke Frew, Facebook

22. "Nobody seemed too surprised when I said, 'Hey, by the way, I like girls and always have.' I’ve always been a tomboy." —AliSpivey

23. "The flannel, the sunglasses, my brother’s shoes, and my dad’s hat." —valb4d3667845

24. "I'll just leave this fashion moment right here." —Mikey Qi, Facebook

25. "One-year-old. #BabyButch #forever." —kiaraj92

26. "Strike a pose, there's nothing to it." —Andres Zapata, Facebook

27. "Yep, pretty much an early member of the FLA (Future Lesbians of America)." —Dbesson

28. "I wanted to be a cowboy who saved people, and I refused to wear my dress. I’ve been with my girlfriend for almost a year, and she still laughs at this picture." —calliewhatever

29. "My dad was the coach, my brother was first in line. I was the one-man cheerleading team." —tavilla

30. "I wanted that Barbie camper so bad! My dad spent two hours putting all the stickers on." —coryg4124532c6

31. "My mini lezzie self was all business in the front and party in the back! And no butch would be complete without a workout panda shirt!" —fitch803

33. "I lived in England for a summer when I was 5, and I would insist on dressing as Robin Hood EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. In the end, no one was shocked that I’d rather rescue and marry the beautiful princess than BE the beautiful princess." —amandabreich

34. "*Note* that there is no middle child. It’s just my older sister and me!" —devinaidanhair

35. "A few short years before I would endlessly get in trouble for dancing on the coffee table to Shania Twain’s 'Man! I Feel Like a Woman!'" —bentripp

36. "This one from the late '90s is my favorite to share, from the doll cakes to the plastic choker to the Osh Kosh bucket hat." —Padawan Ryan

37. "Really? It was a shock?" —mkmcrevy

38. "This was taken when I was about 10, and somehow my family was still surprised when I came out at 21." —peytona3

40. "Striking a pose since I was 2." —alonsierra

41. "Every young girl was dressed as a princess, and I wanted to be Zorro." —eattherude24

42. "I didn’t realize that me saying, 'It’s not a phase, Mom, god!' was about more than my punk rock era 😅." —Amanda Dittus

45. "The cutest baby lesbian you ever did see!" —breedanna92

46. "Boxing gloves absolutely untouched. Disco station used for spinning Kylie Minogue records until it fell apart." —Wilson Kelvin McQuade

47. "I loved my 'baseball outfit' and insisted on wearing my bangs down because I didn’t like them to get sweaty and flat beneath my cap." —mattitude

48. "My Halloween costume when I was in the fifth grade! I wanted to be a girl that year so bad. I was 10...and somehow, my family didn't catch on! LOL." —e4fd78b80d

49. "And I somehow didn’t figure it out for 14 years." —bubblyzo

50. "Had to wear my pumps to the construction site." —Ryan Montez

51. "Very embarrassed I wasn't wearing Andrew Christian briefs." —Jon-Michael Poff

52. "Walking and already fabulous." —Chris

53. "I was 10 and on holiday at Clearwater Beach in Florida. I felt like the Little Mermaid." —sandrov42bc1bee6

54. "Looking really Cuban with the outfit, and really gay with the background!" —davidfernandof

55. "My older brother and I back in '97. Gay then, gay now." —geoffreyg4

56. "When I was a little boy, I was allowed to play with dolls. After I came out to my family, I asked my mom why she let me. She simply said, 'You wanted them so bad, and I wanted to make you happy.' Clearly from my face, you can tell I was happy." —jonathanm416a87015

57. "Had to have my hair on point at 2 years old." —kyry5

58. "Safety orange, mullet bangs...clamming. This photo always makes me chuckle; look at that little lezzie." —nikkir4254850db

59. "Serving Grey Gardens' Little Edie realness! As I recall, I was putting on a show in the chicken coop...because that's normal." —whitneydubsr

60. "In 1992, I used to build shelves with my dad, but only while wearing my Mickey construction shirt, and with stamps on my arms to represent tattoos. Grew up to be very gay." —Britt

61. "I look so fucking stoked. Trans guy who still now wears a leather jacket and killer glasses." —ollieow

62. "My camp counselor took this pic of me dancing to "Oops!... I Did It Again" when I was 8. I was OBSESSED with Britney Spears at the time, and I still love the song to this day. I came out when I was 18, and it's nice to know that I was just as fabulous at 8 as I am now." —jordanj13

63. "I used to play Pretty Pretty Princess with my sister and cousins. Then we would tango to 'Tango: Maureen' from Rent." —jakew4cc132ea6

64. "Here's my baby lesbian picture circa 1999. I was really hoping my parents would use this as a headshot; I still don't know why they didn't?" —strobertson9

65. "What can I say? I have a flair for the dramatic." —ANDY

You can share your own pictures by using the drop box below for your chance to be in a future BuzzFeed Community post!

Join BuzzFeed as we celebrate National Coming Out Day from Oct. 10 to Oct. 16. You can explore more coming-out and queer content over on our LGBTQ page.

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[wishesunderthestars]

Eunoia // Ch. 11

eunoia (noun): beautiful thinking, the possession of a well-balanced mind, which exhibits goodwill and kindness

Pairings: Hybrid! BTS x reader

Summary: You are a world famous director and you have dedicated your life to your job.You have everything you could ever dream of; wealth, recognition, talent, your friends and family. But loneliness ins’t cured by success. So what happens when you somehow rescue seven hybrids? Can they fill the void?

Genre: Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, eventual smut

Word Count: 9.9k+

Warnings: Abuse and violence, mentions of past sexual abuse, injuries and blood

Masterlist

Chapter 1, Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

A/N: The taglist for Eunoia is now closed.

“Zayn, I promise I’m right around the corner,” you said into the phone. “I went home for lunch and it took a little more time than I had expected.”

You heard the singer laugh on the other end of the line. “It’s alright, you are always on time. I can excuse this one. You aren’t even that late.” You checked your phone to confirm what he was saying. Six minutes late. Not that bad.

“I could be a little earlier. I parked the car at the usual parking spot so I’m really just around the corner.” You looked back at Jimin. He had stopped walking and was looking behind him. Some shop window had probably caught his attention. There were many charming independent shops in the area. “By the way Jimin is with me, he wanted to get out of the house. I didn’t think you would mind.”

“I don’t,” Zayn said. “I would like to see the lad again. You talk so much about him, about all of them really, it would be nice to actually see him instead of hearing about him.”

“I mean…” You paused. “C’mon, I don’t talk about them that much.”  

Zayn huffed. “Keep telling yourself that. But I’ll let you have this one. Other than them and work, do you even have any other news?”

“I totally have other news.” Zayn waited. It was slightly worrying that you came up empty. “I’m drowning in work, okay? What other news would I have? Ehhh, have you met Astrid?”  

In the short silence that followed, you could hear Zayn rolling his eyes. “Taylor’s hybrid is hardly news, she adopted her a month ago. You were literally together in Nashville. And did you forget I told you that last time I met up with Taylor Astrid was with her? Do you listen that well to what I’m saying?”  

“Oh, right. I had wanted to come too, but you know work-” You were cut off by the sound of quick footsteps on the gravel behind you. Not many people wandered these streets. You turned back in time to see Jimin running in the opposite direction down the street. “Jimin!” You shouted. He didn’t stop. He should have heard you. With his hybrid hearing, he should have heard you. “I have to go. We’ll be more late.” You ended the call and took off.

You thanked whatever deities could hear you for deciding to wear sneakers instead of high heels to work. When you had important meetings with the higher ups of the film studios, you would dress nicer and high heels were etiquette at this point. Lucky for you, this day you didn’t have any meetings of that kind but rather a more active role as the director. High heels would only slow you down.

Chasing Jimin down the streets, you were glad nothing was slowing you down. You called his name again and again but he wouldn’t reply, just kept running. Your mind jumped to the worst things that could have happened. No one was chasing him, other than you. He wasn’t running away from someone, unless… Unless he was running away from you. But no. Jimin wouldn’t do that. He had no reason to run away from you. He had been a little strange before and something was certainly off but he wouldn’t run away.

You didn’t let yourself entertain the thought anymore, just put one foot in front of the other as fast as you could. Your heart was racing but it wasn’t solely because of running.

Around a corner, in a small alleyway nestled between a small art shop and a closed down building, Jimin had stopped. You stopped too. A large graffiti in blue spray paint read “The world isn’t fair, why should we be?”.

“Jimin?” you repeated quietly, it felt wrong shouting here.

Jimin was frozen in the middle of the alley, his eyes wide. His hands were fisted at his sides, they were shaking. Someone was standing against the wall.

Jimin went to take a step forward but a hiss stopped him. “Yoongi?”

“Step back,” the man said. Black cat-like ears were turned back, their fur blending into his pitch black hair. Narrowed dark eyes regarded Jimin. Jimin didn’t back down.

“Yoongi, it’s me,” Jimin said, albeit with a little less confidence. His eyes were open and vulnerable, staring at the other hybrid like he was a dream he was too afraid to wake up from, yet he wasn’t sure if he should call it a nightmare. “It’s Jimin, don’t you remember me?”

Yoongi didn’t reply. His shoulders were drawn high in tension, making more obvious the teared up fabric on his shoulder. It wasn’t the only tear on his clothes, his jeans were ripped in a way that didn’t look intentional and the hem of his shirt was torn and scuffed. One of his hands was tightly clutching a baseball cap. “Stay away from me.”

 There was so much pain in Jimin’s eyes. All you wanted to do was gather him in your arms and hold him until it was gone, but something was holding you back.

 “I looked for you. In the shelter and in the streets. I tried to find you for years.” Jimin’s lip trembled. “Where have you been?”

 Yoongi looked away. “You don’t want to know.”

 “Please,” Jimin whispered and you could hear the heartbreak in his voice. “I-I’m so sorry.”

 That made Yoongi’s head shoot up. “You’re sorry? What-”

 Just then, your phone started ringing. Both hybrids looked at you. Alarmed, Yoongi backed further into the alley. Perfect timing. You thought Zayn must be calling you, asking you what had happened and where you had gone, but it was Namjoon. Wary of the deadly glare Yoongi was sending your way, you declined the call.

“Who are you?” Yoongi hissed. The fur on his tail was standing on end and you could imagine him pouncing on you and tearing you apart with his teeth. You hadn’t been as nervous around a hybrid as you were at the moment. With Namjoon, it was more wariness than anything else. But this time a thread of fear was slithering up your arms. There was dried blood on Yoongi’s knuckles. There was no John this time and you didn’t have only yourself to worry about.

 "She's my owner," Jimin replied for you. It wasn't the way you would have phrased it and Yoongi's eyes narrowed further until they were nothing more than twin slits. "Yoongi, please," he said again. You didn't know what he was pleading for.

 "She's your owner?" Yoongi spat out the word like it was the worst of insults.

 You had a very bad feeling about this.

 Jimin clenched his jaw, standing up straighter. "She isn't like him, she's nothing like him. She saved me."

 Yoongi didn't say anything. His back was one with the wall by now.

 Jimin averted his gaze, shoulders slumping. "I-I missed you. I thought... I thought he had done something to you." He hugged his frame, making himself look smaller. "I thought he hurt you," the last words came out as a whimper.

 Yoongi was quick to shake his head. "He didn't, he didn't hurt me. You shouldn't have worried about me. You shouldn't be thinking about me."

 "But I was! I still am!"

 Yoongi looked away, he didn't move from the wall. It was clear the two hybrids knew each other but there were too many things you couldn't make sense of. Yoongi must have been someone important to Jimin if he had chased him all the way here and by what they were saying he had something to do with Jimin's past owner. You had assumed Jimin had been alone with that vile man, you hadn't considered having someone there with him. Someone he seemed to care for. Maybe he had met him at one of those parties Jimin had mentioned his owner liked to take him to, or he was one of his friends' hybrid.

 Your brain was in overdrive but your body was rooted on the spot. You didn't want to intrude but you were worried. Meanwhile, you only had limited time before you had to get back to work...

Stupid brain, you cursed. This was such an important moment for Jimin and here you were thinking about work.

 “I have to go," Yoongi said, pulling himself away from the wall.

 "No!" Jimin protested loudly, moving as if he was going to reach for the other hybrid. "I have been looking for you for years. Don't go. Please." He had been saying please a lot today.

 Although Jimin didn't touch him, the other hybrid stopped, as if he was unable to leave Jimin behind when he was calling for him. His fists were clenched at his sides and you could see the dried up blood on his knuckles better. It looked like he had left the blood clog up for a day or more instead of cleaning it. It would be easy to get an infection, especially with the dirt and grime all over his clothes and skin.  

"Is she treating you right?" Yoongi asked after a few moments of silence.

 Jimin's eyes widened at the question, brimming with tears. You held your breath. "She's my family." He glanced at you. "She taught me how to cook. She takes care of us and she lets us dress any way we like. She lets us go out alone, too, I haven't yet but I could... We went to the lake and we stayed there all day and had a picnic and... and... I'm- I'm happy. I'm happy, Yoongi."

 Yoongi lowered his head. "You deserve to be happy," he said quietly but even your human hearing picked it up. He took a step forward.

"Wait." You were surprised to hear your own voice. "You should disinfect your cuts, you could get sick if you leave them like this." Not your best, but enough to make his stop and look at you. Jimin gave you a hopeful look. "I have a medical kit in my car, I can clean them and if you want, then you can leave."

Yoongi's eyes narrowed slightly. His hands were shaking. "You know how to give first aid?"

 You nodded. "I have taken a few lessons, I know my way around it."

 "She's really good," Jimin confirmed. Neither of you could forget the night you had met. Purplish bruises, stark white gauze and fearful eyes.

 Yoongi's cat-like ears twitched. It didn't give you any specific answers as to the kind of hybrid he was. His tail was black as well, it stayed low as he contemplated your offer.

"I don't need your help, I'm fine, " Yoongi said. His eyes flickered to the other end of the alleyway. You could sense the internal battle going on inside him, vices gripping his body as he vibrated with something you were hesitant to call nervousness. His eyes locked with Jimin for a moment and his shoulder slumped slightly. "I don't need your help… but there is someone who does. Can you help him?"

 You ignored the suspicious glare and gathered all your confidence. "I can do my best."

 A small nod. "Go get your supplies."

 He stayed glued to the spot so you turned to Jimin. You cupped his cheek gently and said, "I'm going to the car, I'll be back in a moment." The cat hybrid nodded and you speed-walked to the parking lot, thankfully it wasn't too far away. You would have run if you hadn't already been tired from chasing Jimin. You grabbed the first aid kit from the trunk before rushing back. It was a medium sized box, containing all the essentials, from gauze, band-aids and disinfectant to various pills, like Advil and Claritin. "I've got it," you said when you arrived back at the alleyway, finding the two of them in the same spots you had left them.

 Yoongi glanced at you and the white medical kit, and then he was walking away. You took that as a sign to follow him. You slipped your hand in Jimin's, who gave you a small smile, and intertwined your fingers. This neighborhood housed one of your favorite coffee shops, the one you had planned to meet Zayn at, but you hadn’t wandered far from the quiet aesthetic streets with the colorful buildings and the tiny squares.

 As you walked further away, the scenery changed. More graffiti appeared on the walls. Words dripping in red and black. Slurs and protests. You kept Jimin close to your side. After ten minutes of walking, Yoongi stopped in front of a two-story building. The door was hanging off from only one of its hinges, as if holding onto a thread. Shattered windows, peeling paint on the walls and pieces of white plastic sheets angling from seemingly random places didn’t leave any room for doubt whether the building was abandoned.

Yoongi slipped in through the half opened door and disappeared in the partial darkness inside. Two balconies were situated above the door on either side, parts of them chipped off. You were worried they would fall on your heads at any any moment. You tugged Jimin forward and twisted your body to get inside without touching the door or the wall. Jimin did the same and you were faced with an empty room. You couldn't see much, sunlight didn't get in the house properly and the plastic sheets prevented most of the rays from passing through.

 The smell of rot drifted in the air and you could almost feel the dust swirling around. You resisted an instinctual cough. It was mostly in your mind, the feeling that dust was suffocating you, but your mind tricked your body quickly. You ignored it and walked further into the house, leaving footprints behind on the granite floor. The light got dimmer the further you went and your eyes had trouble adjusting. Jimin's eyesight was much better than yours and like cats he could see well in darkness.

 One of the rooms, with the dirtied floral tapestry peeling off from the walls, opened up to a grand staircase. Once upon a time it must have been beautiful, polished wood shining under the light of the chandeliers. You could imagine balls taking place here, women wearing beautiful gowns and men in tuxes made by the biggest names in fashion, mingling and sharing drinks. Now, the room was a ghost of its former glory, a place that belonged in a horror film instead of a period drama.

 Jimin's hand slipped from yours and you reached blindly for him. The room wasn't in total darkness but it was dark enough to make you nervous.

 In all of your observation of the staircase you hadn't noticed that there was something in the space under the stairs. A boy was curled up on a ratty blanket so thin, it must have been doing nothing to shield him from the cold granite underneath. Yoongi was kneeling next to him but you couldn't make out his features or if he was talking or not. You were too far to hear anything and the building was by no means quiet (you had a suspicion that a family of mice or cockroaches had made its home somewhere inside and you prayed you were wrong). You approached cautiously.

 "-alone. Please, don't go again. I'm fine," you could hear the boy saying as you got closer. His voice was croaky, from disuse or pain you weren't sure. He must have been the one Yoongi wanted you to help. You couldn't see him clearly but you could make out the ears peeking out from his hair. Another hybrid.

Yoongi was holding his hand. "You aren't fine, I had to do something. I brought help."

 The boy hadn't noticed you so far, he must have been pretty bad if he didn't hear you coming in and didn’t notice your scent. When his eyes landed on you he only curled up tighter with a whimper.

 "We're here to help you, not hurt you," you said, coming a little closer when Yoongi didn't hiss at you. You showed him the medical kit you were holding. "I only want to help if you let me."

 He didn't uncurl from the ball he had created with his body but Yoongi looked at you expectantly. You knelt on the floor next to the blanket, ridiculously aware of the dust and grime your expensive pants must be gathering. Your mind was jumping from one place to the next so it wasn't surprising that for some reason it decided it was worth it to worry about dirtying your pants. With Yoongi's help, you coaxed him out of the ball so you could start treating him. After turning on the flashlight on your phone, you handed it to Jimin, instructing him to keep it steady while you worked.

The boy clenched his eyes shut at the light, you wondered how long he had stayed here in semi-darkness.

You opened the first aid kit and took stock of the supplies inside, everything was there. You didn't know the extent of his injuries but his labored breathing and sharp flinches whenever he moved told you enough. In the artificial light, you took a better look at the boy laying on the floor. His hair was a reddish shade of orange. A fluffy tail was half-hidden behind his body. A fox hybrid. You had never seen once before.

The awe and curiosity didn’t last long. Your eyes were drawn on his swollen eye, a shocking purple painting his skin. It wasn't the only place tainted with color. His cheek had a purplish bruise as well and his lips were cut in two places. A trail of blood had dried underneath his nose.

"I'll start with your face, okay?" you asked, but the hybrid didn't reply, he just tightened his hold on the blanket. Taking off his clothes, to tend to the rest of the injuries you were sure were hiding underneath, would only make him more uncomfortable. You pulled out a water bottle from your bag, you were always carrying one with you, and poured a small amount on a white cloth. Before the cloth could touch his face, you spoke up, "My name is Y/N. Do you want to tell me your name?"

Wide fearful eyes turned to Yoongi, who gestured vaguely with his hand. "H-Hoseok," the boy whispered.

 "Hoseok," you repeated, testing the name on your tongue. "That's a nice name. I like the way it sounds." Gently, you dabbed the cloth on his bottom lip, the boy flinched at the contact. He didn't pull away so you continued. "I'm not a professional, I'm not a doctor or a nurse or anything. My profession is actually very different from that, though I did have to play nurse a few times. I would like to think I'm quite good at this by now. I've taken a few lessons, I was fascinated with first aid when I was younger. I don't even know why."

 You continued speaking while tending to the wounds on his face. Earlier in your life you had discovered that talking, or at least listening to someone speak, would take the other's mind off the pain a little. By the time you were finished with his face, you had told him the whole story of how you had come to learn first aid and how you had panicked and forgotten everything you had learnt the first time someone had fainted in front of you, only remembering what to do when a friend of yours had pinched you. Hoseok listened to everything you said silently, his lips curling up a tiny bit at the last story. Maybe you exaggerated a bit and you made way too many hand gestures for someone supposed to be tending to his wounds but it seemed to be working.

Yoongi helped him pull off his shirt and you heard a gasp from behind you as his torso was revealed. His body was toned but a few of his ribs were pushing out in ways they probably shouldn't. It wasn't too bad but it was clear he hadn't been eating well for some time. But that wasn't the worst and it wasn't what you noticed first. Large bruises littered his body and what looked like the imprint of a hand was left on his bicep.

Switching topics, you told him about your first time coming to Los Angeles. Hoseok let out a breath as you started speaking again. As you checked his ribs, you recalled your very first days in the city, when you had been as excited as afraid to go to University in a brand new city where you had no friends. He hissed at the contact, but didn't object otherwise. You observed the way he breathed, taking note of the heavy bruising over his ribcage. You applied salve over the area and all the other bruises on his torso and the few on his back, the front had taken the blunt of whatever had happened. You had a suspicion but didn't speak of it yet.

His right arm was broken, he was holding it immobile close to his body. One touch and you were certain of it. Disinfecting a rather large cut on his arm, you wrapped it in gauze after coating the injury in a thin layer of cream. The cream smelled awful and was a sickly green color but you could testify to how effective it was. You did your best to make a cast for the arm, you hadn't done it before outside of a class and it was more of a struggle than you had expected. When his arm was secured in the cast, you trailed off your recounting of a stupid fight you had with one of your cousins that resulted in both of you getting lost. You were done. Hoseok looked at you with wide eyes, as if asking you why you stopped.

"This is it, we're all done," you said, rubbing your hands together with hand sanitizer like you had before treating him. "When did he... get injured?"

"Why do you need to know?" Yoongi asked, at the same time as Hoseok croaked out, "Yesterday."

 "What pill I give him to relieve the pain depends on when he got hurt. Some kinds could slow down the healing process if they are taken less than 48 hours after the injury." Digging into the small suitcase-like kit, you handed him two paracetamol tablets along with the water bottle. There was still had some water inside. "It will numb the pain, it takes about an hour to work," you explained.

 Hoseok tentatively took the pills and bottle from you. He drunk the water in one gulp and you were reminded again that he might have gone without water for some time. "Thank you," he said, his eyes on the blanket.

You sighed, getting up from the floor and dusting off your pants. Just like you had expected, two white patches were left on your knees. "I'm afraid, other than a broken arm, you might have fractured one of your ribs. I noticed the area hurts more than the rest and you have some trouble breathing." Jimin who hadn't moved much while you were working, latched himself on your back. The situation was too familiar for him. The injuries, the smell of the disinfectant and the fear in Hoseok's eyes. And just like that night your heart was clenching, begging you to do more. It worked once, why wouldn't it again? The traitorous organ whispered.

 Yoongi had sat on the blanket next to Hoseok, who had crawled closer to him, his side touching leg. The silence is broken as your phone starts ringing again. You had set it on silent so whoever is calling you must have made many attempts. You are expecting to see Namjoon's name flash on the screen with the wolf and moon emojis, but instead it is the name of one of the producers.

 While tending to Hoseok, you had almost forgotten you had to be at work after the supposedly short trip to the coffee shop. You had to take this. At the other side of the staircase, close to a door that led to what must have been a dining room once, you answered the call.

 Everyone had been looking for you, worried about your absence. You had never been late to work before, often you would show up before you were scheduled to, in order to get some additional work done. Three missed call, that's how many times just the producer had called you. His worry soon turned into irritation, asking you why you didn't inform them and why you weren't answering your phone. They had called everyone close to you to find out what had happened and no one had any answers.

 You were more than an hour late. An hour you were supposed to spend guiding the actors and getting the first feeling of a few scenes. Those plans went down the drain.

 You peeked over the railing of the staircase. Jimin was standing closer to the space Hoseok was laying under the stairs. They were talking but they were being quiet and you couldn't hear what they were saying over the loud voice of the producer coming from the phone and your own too loud thoughts. You tried to explain yourself, staying as close to the truth as possible, which was admittedly difficult. In the end, you used the personal emergency card. Although the producer didn't sound convinced, he let you off, scolding you half-heartedly about calling next time instead of leaving them in the dark looking for you and thinking about the worst.

 Ending the call, you looked through all the ones you missed and the texts they had sent you. You replied to a few of the texts, giving the same answer as you had to the producer. There were several from Zayn, asking where you were and if you were okay. In the final one he asked you to call him as soon as you could. Guilt gnawed at your insides. You had left him alone waiting for you for forty minutes, until he was sure there was no chance of you coming. You were an awful friend. Namjoon had also sent you a few messages. Someone had called the land-line at your house. No word from you. You and Jimin had both disappeared. Cradling your heavy heart, you sent a message to Namjoon assuring him that Jimin was with you and you were both alright. You hoped that would be enough for now.

 Pocketing your phone you walked around the stairs. Closer to them you could pick up parts of their conversation. Yoongi and Jimin were arguing, silent tears streaming down Jimin's face. You held yourself back from running to him and pulling him away from whatever was hurting him. This was Jimin's battle, you would let him fight it. He rarely spoke of the demons of his past but they were many and frightening with long claws and sharp teeth.

 Jimin suddenly reached for your hands. "Tell them, tell them to come home with us. Please, they can't stay here. We have a lot of space in the house, they can take one of the rooms until he heals."

 Your mouth was faster than your brain. That was a problem you didn't have to worry about before but something was changing. "They can come home with us if they want." Yoongi hissed, ready to protest. "A fractured rib isn't a trivial matter, he would need medical supervision but I can guess you don't want to go to a hospital. I can tend to it until he gets better, he will need medication to relieve the pain and plenty of bed rest. This place will only slow his healing."

 "Yoongi, please. Let me..." He stopped with a sniffle. "Just come with us. I need you to come with us." That seemed to break any of the resolve the older hybrid had. Hoseok didn't react at all, remaining curled in on himself.

 "Okay, we'll come," Yoongi said. "We'll come, but we'll leave as soon as he's better.

���♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

It should be way more surprising when you show up at the Castle with Jimin and two unfamiliar hybrids in tow. The initial surprise lasted only a few minutes before everyone just sort of accepts this. Namjoon was the most wary but you couldn't blame him, his instincts were screaming to protect his pack and while Hoseok in his condition was by no means a threat, Yoongi didn't exactly look friendly. Jungkook had hopped away soon after with Jin. The bunny hybrid wasn’t good with strangers. You suspected that he had inherited some bunny instincts that made him jumpy and easily afraid around predators.

You led the two new hybrids to the guest room with the two queen beds on the second floor, and like you had with Jin, you gave them the key. Yoongi looked at you suspiciously but didn't say anything. Hoseok fell asleep as soon as his body hit the soft mattress. Their reaction to the house had been similar to most people’s. Wide eyes and disbelief. It didn’t serve to calm Yoongi down, instead he looked like you had been leading him straight into some sort of trap.

 Jimin stuck close to you as you called John from your office. He was one of the first people your team had called, it just happened that the day they needed him was the day he hadn't accompanied you. He was fuming when he answered, worried out of his mind and, unlike the producer, he didn't let you off easily. You had been rash, forgot about any rational thoughts, put yourself and Jimin in danger, didn't call anyone for backup in case something happened. Those hybrids could have been serial killers for all you knew. The list went on and on.

 "I'm coming over as soon as I can," he said. "I have to see those hybrids for myself. You can't just go around picking up hybrids like they are new projects. What mess have you gotten yourself in this time?"

 "Hopefully, not too big of one," you muttered. "You don't have to come, really. I've got everything under control and it's your week off. I took the rest of the day off so I'll be home. I swear I'll call you if anything happens."

 "There is no way I'm leaving you in the house with two hybrids you just picked up from the street and decided to nurse back to health-"

 "One of them is fine," you interrupted him.

 Yoongi didn't have any visible injuries other than his bloody knuckles and a slit lip he wouldn't let you touch. Even if he had more, there was no way he would let you tend to them.

 "And that makes it better how?" John asked. "I mean, good for him he isn't injured, but that doesn't guarantee your safety. If he is fine, he could try something. Don't forget that hybrid's have human DNA too, there are bad apples regardless of how much you want to keep looking at the good ones. Just because it worked once, doesn't mean it will work again. "

 Jimin was sitting on the edge of your desk, his head tilted to the side. He could hear everything with his hearing. You ruffled his blond hair and he leaned into your touch. "It isn't the same," you said.

"Isn't it? It sounds awfully a lot like something I've heard before." John sighed. "It isn't that I don't trust your judgment, but lately you act then ask questions lately. I trust you but I don't trust everyone you take into your house. They could take all of your jewelry before they disappear or it could be much much worse."

 "Contrary to popular belief, I'm not completely defenseless." The first years John was assigned to you, he had decided to teach you the basics of self-defense. He couldn't always be with you and you  hadn't been able to throw a punch to save your life. The lessons had paid off and, although you were no black belt student, you could defend yourself to an extent if you had to. "I'm serious, you don't have to come over. What about Alice? She wouldn't want her father running off when he promised her he would spend the week with her."

 John huffed. "You are evil, using my daughter against me."

 "I will add it to my resume," you said. "I'm alright and I'm going to be alright. You know I'm not alone, if anything happens we can count on each other, and you can come in a few days when your break is over and check in."

 "I'll accept this only because I have heard Namjoon growl when he thinks someone in his pack is threatened," you felt warmth seep in your cheeks when John mentioned so casually that you were part of their pack, "and Jungkook has gained enough muscle in the last few months to launch a nice punch if he needs to protect himself or someone." It was difficult to imagine your sweet bunny hybrid punching anyone, especially given the way you had found him, but it was true that the time he spent in the gym paid off.

 John didn't come over. He stayed with his daughter because he had promised they would go to the zoo together as soon as she woke up from her afternoon nap. You went through a few papers after the phone call, reassuring yourself multiple times that the whole TV show wouldn’t crumble because you had taken one day off work (you really needed to work on your sense of self-importance). Jimin had turned his body on the desk so he could see what you were doing without taking up too much space.

 They would be fine without you. The conclusion wasn't hard to reach but you had tortured yourself a lot over it. Missing days of work was almost unheard for you. You scheduled your life around your work schedule, the breaks were on specific dates and you didn't need to take extra ones. To miss work, you had to be so sick you couldn't get out of bed without fainting.

 You put the papers in their respective folders and placed them back on the bookshelves. "Now that we are alone, do you think you can tell me what happened?" you asked, feeling Jimin's eyes on your back.

 "I-" He averted his gaze, his fingers wrapping and unwrapping on the hem of his shirt, wrinkles forming  on the material and smoothing out again. "I'm sorry."

 You walked around the desk, coming closer to him. "That's not what I wanted to hear. A warning before taking off would have been nice, though. My mind went to the worst possibility and you wouldn't answer my calls or wait for me."

 Jimin was about to apologize but stopped himself. "I couldn't lose him. I couldn't stop running, I couldn't lose him again. I couldn't really hear you... It was like a fog was over everything other than the path I was following. I needed to make sure it was Yoongi, that he was alright."

 You touched Jimin's thighs, situating him better on the desk so you were standing between his legs. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

 He hesitated before reaching for your hand and holding it in his. He brought it close to his face and started nuzzling on your wrist. He had told you your scent calmed him and he liked it when your scents mingled. Placing a kiss on the center of your wrist, he pulled back a little, keeping your hand in his.

 "He was there, in my old house," he said. "I was around sixteen when he was brought in. My owner didn't say why he was there but Yoongi is a panther hybrid, he could brag about him to his friend and he was also a guard. He was supposed to be protecting the house, to be protecting me. I was all alone there and then I wasn't. He was suddenly there and I wanted a friend so bad. Yoongi was gentle and he was kind, he would stay with me when I was feeling lonely. He cooked for me when he could, the food was delicious. I remember loving it but I'm not sure it was because of the food itself or because he was the one who had cooked it. Maybe both." He lowered his head, his cat ears pinned to his head. "We did something. We did something very bad. He took Yoongi away and I was returned to the adoption center. I never learnt what he did to him. I thought..." His voice cracked.

 You shushed him, stepping even closer and taking his into your arms. He wrapped his arms around your neck pulling you against his chest. "He's alright. You're safe here. This is a safe place."

 "I know," he mumbled into your shoulder. "I know."

 You cupped his neck with one hand, rubbing small circles with your thumb on his neck. "Do you trust him? Do you trust him to stay here until Hoseok recovers?"

 He nodded. "I trust him, I would trust him with my life."

 You held him in silence for some time, just feeling him breath against your chest. "What did you do with Yoongi?" you asked, curious. Jimin stiffened, you felt like he was holding his breath. "You don't have to tell me."

 His body relaxed a little, leaning on you. "I can't, we shouldn't have done it. We betrayed him. I couldn't hold myself back, I was weak. I'm stronger now, I promise. I wouldn’t be able to bear it if your hated me."

 What he said made you jolt back. Jimin whined lowly but you were quick to cup his soft cheek. "I could never hate you. Nothing in this world could make me hate you," you said, gazing into his watery eyes. Even with tears threatening to fall, he looked beautiful. "My Jiminie. Nothing you say will ever change my feelings about you. Your past doesn't define you. Whatever you did to that man, he deserved it."

 "But you don't."

 You didn't understand what he meant. "What?" You looked into his eyes but you only found sadness there. The small smile on his lips hurt more than his tears would.

 He sniffled. "Don't leave me. Don't throw me away," he pleaded.

 You squeezed his thigh, leaning your forehead against his. "Never, I'll never leave you. I will always watch over you, I swear."

“I’m not worth it. I’m not worthy of the care you give me,” he whimpered.

“You are. You are worth everything and so much more.”

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

 Namjoon was sitting on the largest couch in the living room, a documentary about ocean life playing on TV. His ears twitched a little when he heard you climbing up the stairs. You stayed standing for a moment, watching the screen as a blue whale emerged from the water shooting up a water water spray like a fountain. Their tails flapped against the water. Such magnificent creatures. They were endangered species, the man speaking explained, hunted and killed for their meat and blubber. On top of that, pollution, vessel strikes, entanglement in traps and nets and more.

If there was one thing humans knew how to do is destroy beautiful things.

“Are you okay?” Namjoon asked.

You shrugged. “Shouldn’t I be asking that? Or some variation of it?” You turned away from the screen and settled on the couch, leaving some distance between you. “I didn’t have the chance to ask you before springing this on you.”

“I can handle it, I think,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t think Jimin left you much of a choice if he ran after him. If his mind is set on something, he won’t stop until he gets it.”

“Do you know anything about him? Yoongi? Jimin told me some things but he doesn’t want to say everything.”

Namjoon shook his head. “I didn’t even know he existed until now. Jimin never mentioned it. He doesn’t like talking about his past. I can understand, but then things like this happen. I just wish he shared more with us, so we could help him.”

“I know,” you agreed. “I feel the same. But it’s only temporary. In about a week Hoseok will be well enough to go. Not completely healed, that could take up to a month or more, but he will be better.”

He cracked a small smile. “You can’t really stand there doing nothing, can you?”

You couldn’t, could you? You had always been one to try to help in any way you could. It didn’t matter what the problem was, you wanted to help. An issue at work, a dilemma one of your friends was facing, human rights, poverty, hunger. Homeless injured hybrids. But you usually were careful, you would think the problem over, review all the points and then try to find a solution.

Since when did you throw caution to the wind?

You liked to pride yourself on your mind. You could see the things other people couldn’t and laid new paths when others hadn’t bothered to stray a foot from the blocked road. It felt like you were slipping.

“I didn’t know what else to do,” you said, hiding your face in your hands. “Jimin was so sad and Hoseok’s ribs are fractured-”

Namjoon cut you off by tugging at your arm. He pulled you closer to him. “I trust you, you know I trust you.”

“That doesn’t always make things better,” you said, laying your head on his shoulder. “What if I’m wrong? What if you trusted me and I’m wrong? And, I don’t know, something really bad happens.”

“Then we’ll face the consequences together.” He didn’t hesitate. “I’ll tell you if I think you’re wrong and we will work it out. Now, I’m not sure. We don’t know what happened or why one of them has fractured ribs and a broken arm. I saw the blood on Yoongi’s hands. All we know is that he was part of Jimin’s past.”

The screen was darker as lion fish were swimming around the bottom of the sea, illuminated by blue light. They weren’t afraid of the diver, aware of the poison in their back spines, the narrator said.

You shuffled around a little, getting comfortable on Namjoon’s side. His arm snaked around your waist, settling on your hip. The words unsaid between the two of you were choking you.

“Jungkook came to me earlier,” he said. “He was crying. He told me he had done something horrible, something he couldn’t forgive himself for. It took me hours to calm him down. He said I needed to find Jimin and make sure he was okay. After what he had done, Jungkook said he wouldn’t want to see him again.”

You frowned. “Jungkook said that?” That sounded nothing like the sweet boy you knew. Sure, Jungkook liked joking around, teasing all of you and he could be very stubborn. But he looked at Jimin like he was his muse and whatever he created would be bland and pointless without him. “Jimin caught me last minute before I left the house. He didn’t look well, he was panicked. It was like he was trying to escape something. He didn’t tell me what happened and I didn’t want to push him and make things worse. Where is Jungkook?"

“At the atelier, Jin is there with him. I don't know what we'd do without him," Namjoon said. You agreed. Jin had slotted into your lives like he was always meant to be there. "What about Jimin? Wasn't he with you?"

"He came with me to my office, before I came upstairs he said he was tired and he left to go to your room."

 The sun was setting outside, the sky turning navy as the colors of the day receded. You felt like only a few minutes ago you had been about to walk out the door to meet up with Zayn.

 Namjoon's hand was rubbing your arm up and down, the touch calming something deep inside you. You had so many questions, so many doubts about what you were doing. There were so many ways this could go wrong. Jimin was in a fragile state. If what Jungkook had told Namjoon was true to some extent, Jimin would be in a really bad place. On top of that, a person from his past showing up could ruin all his progress. Most of all, you were afraid your Jimin would get hurt.

 "You're thinking too loud again."

 You groaned, burying your head in his shoulder. "I'm not." You turned to the TV trying to erase the look on your face. The deepest parts of the sea were home to so many creatures. Small and large, all of them had adapted to live in darkness. Adapting. Such an interesting skill.

 You squirmed in Namjoon's arms, he loosened his hold on you so you could sit up straighter. You hadn't talked about the night when you had been beating yourself up for saying the wrong thing, Jin's retreating form, head lowered, haunting you. Namjoon had a way to make your brain go quiet, something you hadn't learnt how to do regardless of how much you tried. You had been floating and for once you had fallen asleep without tossing and turning.

 But you hadn't talked and you couldn't decide if it was better that way or if it would only serve to torment you further. The doubts came, like they always did, and you weren't ready to deflect them.

 Namjoon's clever eyes were on you as you traced invisible swirls from his shoulder, his neck and up his face. Your knuckles ran over his cheek in a feather-light touch. His hand covered yours, bringing it to his mouth and placing a kiss in the center of your palm. Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest.

 "Can I?" he asked, leaning closer. You could do nothing but nod. His lips touched yours gently at first, before both of you got lost in the feeling. This kind of kissing was reserved for books and movies, it wasn't something that was supposed to happen in real life and yet... How could you settle for anything less after this?

 This, this was something you could write about. Something to fill up all those blank pages taunting you. Paragraphs upon paragraphs attempting to describe that feeling spreading through your whole body. You could spend your whole life trying to put this moment into words and it would be worth it.

 You pulled back. A flush had crept up on Namjoon's cheeks and his hair was mussed. You probably didn't look any better. Hopefully, your makeup could cover any redness on your skin.

 Your hand was still in his, held against his cheek.

 "What are we doing?" you asked him, breathy from the kiss that had overtaken your whole being. "What does this mean?"

 "What do you want this to be?"

 Your lips twitched up. "I don't know, that's why I'm asking you."

 Namjoon combed a hand through your hair, twisting a strand loosely around his fingers before letting go. "It can mean whatever we want it to mean. Whatever we need it to be."

 On a moment, his back straightened and he looked at the stairs. You followed his gaze but saw nothing. A few seconds later, your human ears were able to pick up steps climbing up the staircase. You got up from the couch and straightened the wrinkles on your clothes. An itch to change into clean clothes nagged at you, preferably after taking a nice long shower, but there were still things needed to be done.

 Black hair was the first thing you saw before the rest of Jin came into view, but you had already guessed who it was by the careful steps he was taking. Living with them, you could distinguish between the ways they climbed up the stairs. Jungkook ran up, eager to reach his destination. Jimin occasionally skipped some steps, light on his feet like he was floating his way up. Namjoon's step were light as well and he was the most likely to miss, stalking up the stairs silently as if on a hunt. Jin was careful and measured in everything he did and this was no different.

 The sugar glider hybrid glanced around, his eyes landing on the two of you in the living room. He shifted his weight on his feet.

 "Hey," you said softly, coming closer. "Is Jungkook still in the atelier ?"

 Jungkook was nowhere to be seen, even though he tended to stick to the other hybrids like glue. Whatever had happened earlier was enough to make him change his habits.

 "He's in the middle of a painting," Jin said, biting his bottom lip. It was obvious he was worried as well, but trying to make excuses for the youngest. "I'm going to cook dinner."

 The sun had set by now but you couldn't comprehend how late it had gotten. Time to make dinner. On an average work day you would be wrapping up now and checking off the tasks you had completed, making sure everything was going according to plan before leaving.

 "I'll help you then," you said, nudging his hands with yours. The two of you go to the kitchen and Jin starts pulling out bowls from the cupboards. "What are we making?"

 Jin paused. "Now that you're here, we can make whatever you want. But I can cook. You should rest, you must be tired."

 "No more tired than usual." It was true in a weird way. Your body was actually feeling less like it would need to sleep for a week to restore all its functions and more like something heavy you didn't recognize had wrapped itself around your shoulders. "You? How are you feeling?"

 Jin fiddled with one of the bowls. "I'm alright."

 On a couple shelves, away from where most of the action took place, your cookbooks were lined in neat rows. You picked up one of your favorites, the well-known chef smiling at you from the cover.

 "It's okay if you aren't," you said. "It was very unexpected. It'd be understandable if you felt uncomfortable or upset. I didn't get a chance to warn you before bringing practically two strangers into your home."

 The bowl was apparently very fascinating for Jin because he was looking nowhere else as he forced a smile. "I couldn't be upset. I was a stranger coming here, too."

 You left the cookbook on the counter. "The circumstances were different. I had called the others before adopting you and we had all agreed that I would bring you home with me. I adopted you, you came to stay. They will be leaving soon."

 "It's just... I'm not used to strangers," he admitted.

 You moved around the kitchen island, standing next to him. You gave him space in case he wanted to move away but he only leaned closer to you. "This is your home and all I want for you is to feel safe here. I'm sorry I didn't call you to ask before bringing them here. I don't want you to act like you don't mind if you actually do. You have a right to be upset."

 You brought your foreheads together, rubbing gently. A rare purr escaped Jin and although his cheeks reddened he didn't pull away at the sound like he used to do.

 The kitchen filled with noise as you started preparing the dishes. You had decided on chicken with honey and garlic as the main dish and you would make a few side-dishes because you didn't know what the new hybrids liked to eat. Halfway through, when you had added the honey, the diced garlic and the soy sauce in the pan, the itch under your skin got too long and you left to go shower.

 Washing away the day felt almost cathartic. The worst parts of it falling down the drain. It was your favorite part of coming home, second only to seeing your hybrids and spending time with them. Freshly washed and dressed into sweatpants and a comfortable top, you got out of your room. Dinner wasn't ready yet but Jin didn't need any more help. Any other day you would get your laptop and open one of the files in your to-do-list but this time you climbed down the stairs to the second level.

 Knocking on the door, you took a step back and waited.

 "Who is it?" a gruff voice you recognized as Yoongi's called from inside.

 "It's Y/N." You didn't elaborate further, curious to see what he would do. Contrary to what you had expected, you heard the key being turned. The door opened, Yoongi peeking at you through the crack.

 "What do you want?"

 "Dinner is almost ready," you said. "I came to check in on you. Has Hoseok woken up? I wanted to see how well the medication worked."

 You could sense Yoongi contemplating shutting the door in your face before  a small voice from inside said, "I'm awake."

 Yoongi muttered under his breath but opened the door further letting you in. The room was mostly untouched, only the bed Hoseok had been sleeping in gave an indication that someone had been inside. Yoongi had taken a shower but changed back into his own clothes, which he had pulled out from the small duffel bag. The green duffel bag, as worn as their clothes, was the only thing they had carried with them. It was small and certainly not enough for two people to live out of.

 Hoseok was laying on the bed, making himself as small as he could without aggravating his injuries. In the hand that wasn't in the cast, he was clinging to the blanket he had with him in the abandoned building. It desperately needed to be washed but you weren't sure it could be salvaged. The light in the room was in the lower setting not to aggravate his eyes. His fluffy tail was curled around his waist, dirt staining it and parts sticking together with grime.

 He stuttered answering your questions but overall he looked better. The granite floor with only a thin blanket to lay on wasn't a place someone could actually rest on. You offered to bring him some clothes to change into. Unlike Yoongi, he accepted.

 Jacob's clothes had really come in handy. You would have never guessed that you would find a use for them when he left them behind. You had even considered throwing them out at one of your lowest points. Jacob's promise to remain friends and the excuse he would be coming over had been proven a lie or just wistful thinking. They weren't taking too much space, considering how large your closet was, but you had no use for them but sentimental memories you no longer needed. Until February, that is.

 Some of Namjoon's clothes would fit Hoseok better, but you dismissed the idea without considering it. The hybrid's scent would be too prominent on the clothes. Jimin liked wearing the others' clothes because he claimed he loved being enveloped in their scents. It was also the reason he had stolen one of your hoodies that fit him and refused to give it back.

 Jacob's scent had faded from his clothes after so many months, Namjoon had confirmed it. He had left in early December, five months had come and passed since then. You could remember the months leading up to the break up. It wasn't the fights, there weren't many of them, but the silence and the distance that had broken you. You had been at work all day and he had been at the studio. When he went out you either couldn't go because you were busy or you were too tired to. He didn't get your hobbies. He wasn't a fan of reading and he didn't let you listen to his tracks before they were ready. You weren't good at giving feedback, he had told you laughing after you had said the track felt like something was missing in the chorus. You had been getting further and further apart for more than a year. The house was but a way to fool yourself that everything was alright.

 Yoongi had helped Hoseok shower, following your advice to not ruin the cast on his arm and wet the bandages you had wrapped around some of the deeper wounds.

 Dinner was different. You had carried two trays down with Jin's help for the two hybrids. It was better for Hoseok not to move and even if he could, Yoongi wouldn't be thrilled at the idea. Jungkook didn't come up for dinner. He wouldn't leave the atelier and Jin carried another tray to him, because there was no way he would let him go without eating. Jimin asked after him. He didn't speak for the rest of dinner picking up the food on his plate with a guilty expression on his face.

 John did come the next morning. He didn't press and didn't threaten anyone, not that you had expected him to but it was a relief nonetheless. John was an intimidating man with his height and bulkiness. Yoongi hissed, backing into a corner when he saw him. John looked him up and down, taking in his split lip, the bruises and his worn clothes, and then showed you a picture of his daughter on his phone. Yoongi regarded him for a little longer before disappearing again.

 Jungkook and Jimin were avoiding each other. Jungkook did everything in his power not to find himself in the same room as Jimin, getting up and leaving whenever Jimin entered. The hurt on Jimin's face was heartbreaking every time it happened. You tried to comfort him but you couldn't do much when you were gone most of the day and you had to check Hoseok's injuries every morning and night.

 You were in your office scanning a few documents when the email was delivered. Your hand froze, unable to comprehend the contents at first.

 There was a knock on the half-opened door. Namjoon walked inside. "Are you coming for dinner?"

 You looked up from your phone. "I have to go to Virginia the day after tomorrow."

[here4theheartbreak]

Sweet Cream Nights (jjk + ksj + myg)

AO3 Link Here!

Relationships: Jungkook x Seokjin x Yoongi Genre: smut, fluff Rating: Explicit Word Count: ~8.4k

Tags: smut, fluff, enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, bakery au, coffee shop au, arcade au, getting together, polyamory, food play, oral sex, come eating, dirty talk, humping

Summary: The local video game arcade owner is in love with the local barista who is also in love with the local baker. What could go wrong?

A/N: Third Kinktober fic, day 5: foodplay

Friendly competition was healthy, normal, and expected from successful business owners with shops near to one another. It only made sense that the two best coffee shops on the same street would have a friendly rivalry, or that the local bakery would compete with the nearby diner serving fresh cakes. What wasn’t normal, and not expected, was the local bakery in such a cutthroat competition with the local arcade.

It wasn’t even really about the products, of course. Individuals routinely purchased snacks or lunch from Seokjin, the owner and baker at History in the Baking – the best bakery in town by any local’s standards, then stopped in two doors down to play a few video games, often with Jungkook, the owner of the Golden Closet; a newer, but booming arcade. There was no loss in business and nothing forcing the rivalry.

Nothing, that was, except Deja Brew, the small café and coffee shop nestled directly between the two businesses. Really, it was because of the owner of the shop, one Min Yoongi. 

Yoongi was everyone’s favorite. He liked to put on a grumpy front, often standing out in front of his rather adorable little shop as it opened at 6:37am sharp (he said, because 6:30 is too damn early, and what person wants coffee as late as 7:00am, really?) But it wasn’t real. No, the short, sweet faced grump was really as gentle as could be. He gave the bleary-eyed children of busy moms small sweets and volunteered with local charities. He often worked with Seokjin to make sure no product went to waste; every few days he and Jin would gather up near expiry products – Jin’s baked goods and breads and coffee beans that hadn’t sold, and Yoongi would drive them over to the nearby homeless shelter for breakfasts for the needy. 

This was where Jin first realized that he’d fallen truly head over heels for the barista. The only problem he had was that he wasn’t sure if Yoongi liked him back, or if he was even into men. And the idea of ruining the both friendship and business cooperation they had was more terrifying than keeping silent. 

Jungkook, on the other hand, knew almost immediately that he wanted to ask Yoongi on a date. The first week he’d moved into the empty space next to Yoongi’s shop, he’d wandered in, exhausted from an all nighter getting things up and running and just needing a quick pick me up. He’d expected something like a fancy Starbucks – in and out and perhaps a misspelled name on the cup to boot. What he’d gotten instead was a very concerned Yoongi herding him to a booth and a warm breakfast; the most delicious oatmeal he’d ever tasted, along with a rich, sweet coffee that made his toes curl and his heart skip. Though, maybe the heart skipping was more Yoongi’s doing than the coffee. Yes, Jungkook knew he’d been swept off his feet. His problem however was that despite being told he was handsome and being quite boisterous and loud in regards to his friends… Once someone he fancied came near, he clammed up; closing himself off and barely speaking more than a few words to the person. Which was what happened with Yoongi.

And Yoongi – for all his attention paid to customers, bills, and the local news – had no idea that he was being courted after by his two neighbors. When their rivalry picked up, Jungkook had blocked Jin’s back door for nearly three hours with a large truck first off; then Jin had had a whole pallet of flour ‘misdelivered’ to Jungkook’s door – he assumed they were old friends, or old enemies. Perhaps exes that were out to get one another. It wasn’t his problem, and he had no care about how they handled their rivalry – just as long as he wasn’t dragged into it. 

Seven months, it went on. Seven entire months of petty pranks and murmured name-calling and generally annoyed glares between Jungkook and Jin. And then it happened.

Jungkook was early in to the arcade. It was nearly 6:15, but the sun was shining and he was feeling particularly good. He’d spent the evening out with an old friend who had encouraged him to ask Yoongi out before someone (Jin) did. 

He walked past Jin’s shop, glancing in. He could see a few lights on in the back; Jin was always in early, working on his day to day treats. Despite his annoyance with Jin, he had to admit, the man was an excellent baker. And what was more, he was frankly stunning. Tall and broad, slender, with the face of a God – if Jungkook wasn’t so taken with Yoongi he may have gone after Jin. His custom pastries and cakes were stunning and elaborate, and his simple day to day cookies and pastries were always a hit. Rivalry or not, Jungkook knew good sweets, and that man’s were to die for. 

He passed the bakery without lingering too long and glanced into the front window of the café. Much to his surprise, the main lights were on; Yoongi normally kept them off until opening time. He looked a little closer, and his stomach did a tight little flip. Yoongi was sitting at one of the tables, sipping coffee… With Seokjin. 

They were laughing, and Jin reached over, brushing the tips of his fingers over Yoongi’s cheek. Jungkook saw red. It wasn’t fair. He reached up, ready to tap on the glass, draw Yoongi’s attention, anything. He froze though. What right did he have? He hadn’t made his move on Yoongi fast enough – that was on him. He sighed softly and shook his head, hurrying past the café before one of them caught him peering in like a pervert. 

Jungkook tried to ignore the ache he felt as he worked, but every time his mind drifted, it went to what he saw that morning. Was it what he had assumed? Were they just friends? He had to find out. He slipped out under the guise of an early lunch break, entering Deja Brew. 

Yoongi was behind the counter, looking stunning as always. He looked up and grinned. “Afternoon, Kook. What can I get you?”

“Whatever you think is good,” Jungkook said, settling in one of the tables. “You know I trust your opinion here.”

“Coming up.” 

The shop was empty; Jungkook knew it wouldn’t start getting busy again until about noon. It was nice; he could watch Yoongi working without others wondering what was wrong with him. Yoongi circled around to the table with a tray, setting a sandwich in front of Jungkook along with a coffee. 

“Mind if I join you? Grab my own lunch before the real lunch rush.”

“Of course not,” Jungkook grinned, trying not to sound too excited at the prospect. 

Yoongi set a similar meal down on the other side and hurried the tray back to the counter before sliding in across from Jungkook. 

Jungkook took a bite, groaning happily. “This is amazing.”

“Apple sausage with fresh veggies. I managed to get some really great products at the farmer’s market this weekend, and Jin gave me a deal on the bread. Nobody does these little sandwich loaves like he does.”

The smile slid from Jungkook’s face. He tried to replace it, ignoring the twist in his gut. Well, this was what he came for; might as well rip the bandage off. “You and Jin are pretty close, huh?”

“I think so,” Yoongi said casually, taking a bite of his sandwich. 

“How long have you two been…” He drifted off. Yoongi’s brows furrowed for a moment. He swallowed the bite in his mouth.

“Been friends? About a year. We met a few months before you joined our little shop front.”

“No… Dating,” Jungkook clarified.

Yoongi coughed, laughing after taking a swig of coffee. “Dating? No, no. Jin and I aren’t dating. I’d love to but… He’s not into me that way.”

“Are you kidding? He’s obsessed with you,” Jungkook said without thinking, wanting immediately to kick himself. “I saw you two this morning when I was walking to my arcade. I figured… You know… It was a date.”

Yoongi chuckled and shook his head. “I’ll take your word for it, but no… We were just having breakfast.” He hesitated. “Do you really think he likes me?”

Jungkook snorted. “He adores you. I mean, why wouldn’t he? You’re funny and smart and one of the most caring guys in this town. Plus you make amazing coffee, you’re independent. And you’re handsome as hell and I—” He froze, realizing Yoongi was staring at him, eyes wide. 

“I—I just mean you two are a good match,” he mumbled. 

“I appreciate the plethora of compliments, but no we aren’t.” Yoongi chuckled. “Jin’s damn near a model.”

“He really is. I’ve never seen someone with such broad shoulders that doesn’t look weird. And his smile…” Jungkook shook his head, smiling a little. “He’s stunning. But you are too.”

“Well, maybe I’ll ask him out. But… I don’t think he’d be into my lifestyle.”

Jungkook’s brows raised. He twitched his head to the side, mouth pursing. When Yoongi didn’t continue, he nudged him with his foot under the table.

“Lifestyle?”

“It’s… Very hard to explain.”

“If it’s not comfortable, I didn’t mean—”

“No, it’s not that. I am comfortable with it. I just wish others were,” Yoongi mumbled.

“It sounds intriguing… I’ll listen without judging, you know me.”

Yoongi smiled softly. “You do have a knack for that, don’t you?” He sighed. “I’m not… Comfortable in traditional relationships. I never have been.”

“Like sexually?”

“Oh no, no. I’ve always been very sexual being. No, I mean traditional monogamy. I believe in faithfulness and I abhor cheaters… But for me the traditional two-person relationship is dull and unfulfilling. It’s like… I feel like I have so much love to give and no matter how much I give to the other person there’s this space missing.” He sighed again. “It’s very hard to explain to folks.”

“You feel like the true way to be happy in a relationship is to have more than one partner?” Jungkook clarified. 

“For me, yes. I’m not disparaging traditional relationships, I just… When I date someone, I feel like there’s still this gap there, waiting to be filled by a third party. And it doesn’t matter to me whether that third is dating my first partner, or if they’re just dating me, or even if they’re dating someone else that I’m not dating, I’m okay with any combination, I just… I need to have more than what traditional monogamy can give me.”

“I get it,” Jungkook said, nodding. He sipped his coffee as he thought, processing the information. “I don’t see anything wrong with what you feel. You still love and believe in being faithful; I’m guessing seeking a third partner, or a fourth or however many would be something that you’d discuss with your partner originally.”

“Oh of course, but therein lies the problem. The majority of people don’t understand this mindset. They hear something about wanting another partner and insecurity crops up. Are they not good enough, do they not satisfy, am I falling out of love with them and there’s really no way to explain to a person who sees things in the traditional way.”

Jungkook nodded. He scowled at the remnants of his sandwich in thought, trying to put himself in Yoongi’s shoes, or in the shoes of someone Yoongi might be dating. 

“It’s gonna catch fire if you laser focus any more on that bread,” Yoongi joked, his voice a little tense. Jungkook looked up. “Oh, sorry.” He laughed. Yoongi looked as tense as he sounded, and Jungkook wondered if he was waiting for a sort of negativity about what he’d just confessed.

“I was thinking about the type of relationship you described.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, trying to put myself in that place – the mind of someone you might be dating who you told this to.”

“What’s the verdict? Would you dump me?” Yoongi laughed as he spoke, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Jungkook shook his head no.

“When I think about it, I don’t deny my initial thought would be to ask if you were happy – I feel like that’s everyone’s gut response. We were raised in a monogamy preferred society, so it’s just… Natural to think that way. Not right, of course… We were also raised in a heterosexual society and I think it’s pretty clear that’s bullshit.” 

Yoongi and Jungkook both chuckled at that. Jungkook continued.

“But I think if you explained that you were, and how you just told me about it, I think I’d get it. I would want to be with you in the process though. I don’t think I’d be comfortable with my partner seeking out another person without me. That would feel too much like hiding or cheating. But I think if we went together and met folks, or even had a person in mind that you wanted to ask, I’d want to like them too. Maybe not as much as I liked you, but some sort of friendship or agreement that you’d be good together, if that makes sense.”

Yoongi was silent for a long time after Jungkook spoke. He couldn’t figure out his expression. There were subtle shifts in it, and sometimes Yoongi looked close to tears, other times happy, and blank. Jungkook wanted to ask what he was thinking, or if he’d said something wrong, but didn’t want to push Yoongi into answering if he was still processing. 

So he went back to eating, finishing the last of his sandwich and sipping the sweet coffee while he waited. He looked outside, watching the traffic pass through the window. Some familiar faces passed by, likely heading into his arcade next door. He should head back at some point soon, he’d left Taehyung in charge, which was fine in the short term, but Taehyung had a way of getting too up in his head or too hyperfocused on one thing – so it was best to have a second person there to bring him back to reality. 

Jungkook was just about to clear his throat and call it a meeting when Yoongi looked up suddenly, meeting his gaze.

“Jungkook…”

“What?” Jungkook laughed a little, the intensity of Yoongi’s gaze startling. Not to mention, arousing; he’d never been looked at like that before. At least… Not by anyone he liked back.

“I’m in my late twenties,” Yoongi began, finally breaking the gaze to gather their plates. “And I’ve known this about myself since I was very young… Thirteen, fourteen maybe?” He rose, holding the plates and his empty cup. “In all that time I’ve never had someone respond how you just did. Taking the time to process and try to understand and… Get it. Maybe not think the same way as me but… Be able to offer me an answer that wasn’t going to break my heart. That would let me and them be happy.”

“I—”

Yoongi shook his head, his mouth curling up into a bright, gummy smile. “You asked about Jin because you’re jealous, didn’t you?”

Jungkook felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment. He lowered his gaze, nodding softly. “That’s weird, huh?” He mumbled.

“I think it’s cute.” Yoongi leaned down, his breath warm on Jungkook’s ear. “And I think you’re cute Jeon Jungkook.” He shifted, pressing a quick kiss to Jungkook’s cheek before standing upright.

Jungkook’s head snapped up when Yoongi rose. “What?”

Yoongi smirked. “I don’t mince my words. You heard me.” Yoongi glanced at the door, nodding to a customer approaching that he must have recognized. “My lunch rush is about to start,” Yoongi said as the bell dinged, signaling the customer’s entrance. “Come by when I close. I want to talk to you more.”

Jungkook grinned brightly, his nose crinkling up. He rose quickly and nodded even as Yoongi walked away. “I will,” he said, not wanting to turn his back as he watched Yoongi walk behind the counter. “I’ll see you—” He winced when his hip bumped the corner of a table hard enough to sting. He moved out of the way, nearly running into the customer. 

“Sorry!” He cried, bowing low. He glanced up, his cheeks warm as he spotted Yoongi watching him, an amused smirk on his face. 

Jungkook made it out of the café and over to his arcade without any further accidents. His mind was whirring over what had just happened. Yoongi had said he was cute. Yoongi had kissed his cheek. And asked him to come over. Was this happening? Was he going to win the guy? 

The other information Yoongi provided him also crept back in. Now that Yoongi dating him might be reality, rather than theory, would Jungkook really be okay with sharing him with another partner? The more he thought about it, the more he realized he would. The idea of sharing Yoongi with someone else was intriguing. He wondered how date nights might look, if Yoongi would call them both boyfriends – if the other partner would even be a boy. What if he fell for that one too? It was something he’d never considered before; being in love with two men at the same time, but it was something that he was very interested in exploring. What was Yoongi’s type too? Would it be someone else similar to Jungkook? Or totally opposite? His mind wandered through all the possibilities, making the day pass easily. 

Shortly before closing time, the front door opened. Jungkook glanced up from where he was sanitizing one of the game systems. His brows rose, disappearing into his shaggy hair when he saw none other than Jin standing in his doorway. 

“Good afternoon,” he said politely, bowing. “You looking for something specific? We have some open computers at the internet bar, and some other game systems. I just cleaned this one, so—”

“I’m looking for you,” Jin said bluntly. His jaw was set, giving him a stern look, but there was something unreadable in his eyes. “Can we chat?”

“Of course.” Jungkook nodded, heading behind the small counter that housed a few mini fridges worth of snacks and books filled with codes and game information. He tucked the sanitizing supplies on the bottom shelf and waved Taehyung over. “Keep an eye on the front for me, okay?”

Taehyung glanced at Jin before nodding to Jungkook. Jungkook motioned for Jin to follow him, unlocking a nondescript door that led into an “office” – really it was a gutted storage closet, but it worked to keep the fancy and important stuff out of sight of customers… And for private meetings. Jungkook leaned on the small desk. 

“What do you need to talk about?”

“When did you start dating Yoongi?”

Jungkook blinked. “Who said I was dating him?”

“I saw you two this afternoon. He kissed you.”

“He kissed my cheek,” Jungkook corrected. “And you’re a snoop.”

“The shop’s windows aren’t exactly hidden away. I was walking past and saw.”

Jungkook nodded. He sighed and went around, slumping into the folding chair he’d set up to sit in while dealing with bills and other business things. “Well, we aren’t dating. I assumed he was dating you… I saw you two awful cozy this morning.”

“Oh, now who’s the snoop?” Jin grumbled, leaning on the door. 

The two remained silent for a long time, staring each other down across the small space. Jungkook couldn’t help but notice how the fabric of Jin’s shirt stretched across his broad shoulders. Though it was a well fitted, button up shirt, it still seemed tight with his body. His belt was cinched around his waist, making his slender hips all the more obvious as well. Jungkook couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to hold onto those slender hips, or wrap his arms around the broad shoulder span. And the more he looked, the more he noticed Jin’s mouth and neck. The curve of his throat, ridged with muscle, his full, pink lips that looked just a little chapped – but still oh so soft. The gentle curve of his nose and the smooth, shiny glow to his skin. Despite working in a bakery all day, not a hair was out of place, bangs parted just so to show a broad, smooth forehead that was begging to be kissed.

It was Jungkook who broke first, laughing in the silent room. He shook his head. “This is so stupid,” he said through bursts of laughter. Jin tried to remain stoic but broke as well, laughing along with Jungkook. 

When their laughter faded, Jungkook shook his head, wiping his cheeks. “Look, I do like Yoongi. That’s no secret. And yeah, he did kiss my cheek – he was flirting. So, if you like him… I encourage you to tell him.”

“You just said he likes you.”

“And he likes you too. He told me today.” Jungkook hesitated. He didn’t want to say too much about what Yoongi told him; it wasn’t his place to tell. “You should talk to him. His answer might surprise you. But either way – we’ve been fighting over him for months, when in reality this is his choice. He deserves to know the truth so he can make that choice.”

Jin’s shoulders sagged just a little. He nodded. “I know you’re right. But I don’t want to make it harder for him if he has decided to date you.”

“I know you don’t, but you won’t know what he decides until you tell him. He’s a big boy – I’m sure he can handle it.”

Jin chuckled. “True… Thanks, Jungkook.” He turned to go, then turned back. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick these past few months.”

Jungkook grinned. “I’m not. It’s been fun. I’ve kinda enjoyed our pranking.”

“Is that so?” Jin smirked. “Well, maybe I won’t stop then.”

“I’ll be waiting.” 

Jin turned and walked out, leaving Jungkook to wrestle with far more internal questions than he had answers for. 

That night, Jungkook headed over to Deja Brew as soon as he closed things up. The lights were mostly off, save for a few near the back and behind the counter. Assuming it was locked, Jungkook knocked gently. He saw movement from the back, and Yoongi came rushing out. Even in the fading sunlight, Jungkook could see he looked a little flushed and surprised. He opened the door, smiling brightly. “You came.”

“Of course I did… You okay?” Jungkook could see his cheeks were mottled and his hair was a little mussed.

“Yes. But… I have to tell you something.”

Jungkook stepped into the café, letting Yoongi close and lock the door behind him. He shouldered his bag a little higher onto his shoulder. “What do you have to tell me?”

“There’s been… A bit of a development. That I didn’t expect… When I told you to come by.”

“Oh?”

“Evening, Jungkook.” The voice came from the back room, where Yoongi had rushed from. Jungkook looked over Yoongi’s shoulder, his eyes widening. Jin was leaning against the doorframe. He was wearing the same shirt as he had been when he met Jungkook, but now it was hanging open save for two bottom buttons, his firm, broad chest exposed. It was damp with sweat and flushed red, as was Jin’s face and ears. His hair was a little mussed and his mouth – if anyone could believe it – was just a little plumper. 

“Oh!” Jungkook backed up. “I am so sorry. I didn’t realize—”

“Don’t go,” Yoongi whispered. 

“But you and Jin—”

“He came over,” Yoongi nodded. “But I want to talk to you still. I don’t want you to go, please.”

Jungkook nodded. He met Jin’s gaze, a little surprised to see a gentleness there. He’d won – he expected Jin to look smug. He followed Yoongi back into the back room, and Jin followed as well, leaning against a nearby wall.

“Jin came over earlier,” Yoongi began. “He said you encouraged him to.”

“I did. He came to me and I said it was only fair to you. To tell you how he felt and let you choose. I guess he did and… You did.”

“How do you mean?” Yoongi asked. 

“Well, you two…” Jungkook motioned to Jin’s open shirt. 

“Oh, yeah. We did. I mean, we are… But… I told you earlier today. How I felt,” Yoongi said. “You said… A lot. About how you’d feel about it. Was that true?”

“About the… More than one person thing?”

Yoongi nodded.

“Yeah, I meant it all. I wouldn’t mind. If I knew you cared and were happy, I’d try.”

“Well I told Jin too.”

“And I said the same thing,” Jin added. 

Jungkook smiled softly. “I’m glad. It’s good to find similarly minded people.”

“Jungkook,” Jin stepped forward. “You’re kinda dumb, aren’t you?”

Jungkook pouted. “No,” he mumbled. “I was just trying to be fair, I didn’t—”

“Jungkook, you and me and Yoongi all say the same thing. We’d be happy to try a relationship with more than one person.”

“Yeah, I got that…” Jungkook said, glancing between the two. 

“Right… And we both like Yoongi,” Jin continued. “And… Considering the way you were eye fucking me in the office earlier…”

Jungkook’s eyes bulged. He opened his mouth to argue, but Jin shook his head. “I know when someone is giving me that look. I would’ve told you to stop if I didn’t like it.”

“You…”

“Think you’re kinda… Annoying.” Jin laughed at Jungkook’s expression. “And really attractive. Plus you’re competitive and stubborn and loyal…”

“You didn’t lose anything, Jungkook,” Yoongi said. “If you don’t want to lose, that is. If you want… You can both have me.”

Jungkook’s eyes bulged. Comically, if the laughter of Yoongi and Jin meant anything. “You mean—I—I could be with you both?” Jungkook stumbled over his words, wanting to kick himself.

Yoongi nodded. “Why should I choose between you when you both want me and I… Want both of you. And since you’re both okay with sharing me, then… It only seems fair to do so.”

“I was simply getting started a little early,” Jin teased, pulling Yoongi back to him. He kissed him hard.

Jungkook wasn’t sure what to do. He’d just been given the okay – he could date Yoongi – and Jin. He stepped forward, setting his backpack on the ground. Cautiously, he reached out, touching Yoongi’s wrist. 

Jin broke the kiss. “Don’t be shy,” he murmured, nuzzling Yoongi’s neck even as he looked up at Jungkook. 

Jungkook took a deep breath. He stepped forward, pulling Yoongi to him and kissing him. The reality of what was happening seemed to hit him suddenly when their lips met. He grabbed his cheeks, holding him close even as Yoongi laughed into his mouth. Jungkook felt a warmth behind him and hands on his hips. Jin. 

“Can I share you too, Jungkook?” Jin whispered in his ear. Jungkook broke the kiss with Yoongi, looking over to meet Jin’s gaze. 

“I—I guess so.”

Jin smiled softly. He stepped to the side, wrapping one arm around Jungkook and pulling him into a deep, needy kiss. His mouth tasted of warm, sweet vanilla and a hint of spice, while Yoongi’s had tasted like coffee beans and chai. It was the perfect blend. 

Yoongi’s mouth landed on his neck, his hand sliding Jungkook’s front as he and Jin kissed. He felt hands on his jeans and gasped, breaking the kiss. He glanced down. Jin was undoing Jungkook’s jeans. 

“You can stop me,” Jin said softly. 

“And me,” Yoongi added.

“No,” Jungkook leaned back, sliding his hand up Yoongi’s neck and through his hair. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” He reached forward, touching Jin’s bare chest before sliding lower, his fingers tracing the firm muscle of his abdomen. He undid the other two buttons of his shirt and pulled it open just as Jin opened his jeans. The slid down a little, and Yoongi helped, pushing them the rest of the way down to his ankles. Jungkook toed his sneakers off and kicked the jeans off. He let go of Jin’s chest to turn, grabbing Yoongi’s belt. “I’m not gonna be the only one with no pants,” he said.

Yoongi laughed. “I’ve already had my pants off. I put them on when you came in.”

“Oh, is that so?” Jungkook undid his belt and unzipped his jeans. “What were you two doing in here?” He looked back at Jin, who smirked.

“I was showing him just how… Versatile my food can be.”

“Is that so?”

Jin nodded. Jungkook pushed Yoongi’s jeans down and turned. “Well now I’m envious… Can I get a lesson in that diversity too?” He pouted.

Jin smirked. “I’m sure that can be arranged. He circled around the two and opened a small fridge under Yoongi’s desk. He pulled out a small cheesecake and a can of spray whipped cream. “Mind if I get some things from up front, Yoongi?” 

Yoongi shook his head no, busying himself kissing along Jungkook’s neck. “Bet this isn’t at all what you expected tonight,” he murmured.

“Not at all,” Jungkook leaned into his touch. “But I’m not complaining.”

He turned, pulling Yoongi’s shirt off over his head. He took a moment to stroke his hands over Yoongi’s soft skin, tweaking his nipples just a bit and giggling when Yoongi hissed. Yoongi moved forward, forcing Jungkook to walk backwards until his back hit the wall. He moaned openly, grabbing Yoongi’s hips. 

“Don’t come in your shorts now, I have some fun for you two,” Jin teased when he re-entered, holding a cup of coffee and a bowl of what looked like ice. He set them on the table next to the food and beckoned the two over.

“Yoongi… He smirked. He scraped a small chunk off the cheesecake and brought the fork toward Yoongi. Yoongi opened his mouth for it, but Jin moved the fork at the last second, smearing the cheesecake over Yoongi’s bare collarbone. He looked at Jungkook. “Go on.”

Jungkook grinned. He moved forward, gently licking and sucking the cheesecake from Yoongi’s collarbone. He let his teeth graze over the area, enjoying the squeeze of Yoongi’s hands on his waist. 

“Take your shirt off now,” Jin whispered when Jungkook had cleaned Yoongi’s skin, and left an array of delightful red marks in his wake. Jungkook obeyed, stripping his shirt off and tossing it to the side. Jin did the same, and stripped his jeans off as well, leaving all three in their boxers. Jin grabbed the can of whipped cream, looking between the two. “Who wants a treat?” 

“Yoongi,” Jungkook said. “I stole his cheesecake after all.”

Jin stepped forward and reached out, palming Jungkook through his boxers. Jungkook gasped, his eyelids fluttering shut. 

“Lets get these off then,” Jin whispered, pressing a kiss to Jungkook’s jaw. Yoongi stepped forward, sliding them down his hips. Jin made a low noise of appreciation when his cock sprang free. He shook the can once more. 

“It’ll be cold,” he warned before tipping it upside down. He pressed Jungkook’s cock down a little further so it was more parallel to the ground and sprayed a few lines of the creamy dessert whip over his shaft. 

Jungkook forced his eyes open as Yoongi sank to the ground, licking his lips. He grasped Jungkook’s cock gently behind the tip, careful not to disturb the whipped cream, and looked up at him. Slow and steady, he began to lap to Jungkook’s cock, catching the cream with his tongue. Each inch slipped into his mouth, hot and warm and slick, Jungkook gasped, reaching out for anything to brace himself. Jin caught him, holding his hips to keep him upright as Yoongi sucked his cock.

“That’s it, feels nice, doesn’t it?” Jin murmured in his ear, reaching up to pinch Jungkook’s nipples gently. Jungkook moaned, stroking his fingers through Yoongi’s hair. 

“Wanna repay the favor?” He asked softly when Yoongi had sucked all the cream from Jungkook’s cock.

Jungkook nodded. “But—What about you?” He asked, sliding his hand down to palm Jin’s cock. 

Jin smirked. “Oh, wanna see what I have too?” He teased. Jungkook nodded.

“Only fair,” Yoongi said as he stood. He slid his own boxers off and they turned to Jin, shedding the final article of clothing he wore as well. 

Jin handed Jungkook a piece of ice. “Put it in your mouth… And suck my cock,” he instructed. He took a mouthful of coffee and knelt in front of Yoongi. Glancing up, he winked. He grabbed Yoongi’s cock and gave it a few strokes before slowly sliding it past his closed lips. Yoongi groaned and jerked. A bit of the warm coffee dribbled out, down Jin’s chin and chest. He began to bob his head, and Jungkook could hear the slosh of the coffee in his mouth as he sucked Yoongi. 

Jungkook dropped to his hands and knees and placed the ice chip in his mouth. He grabbed Jin’s cock and gave it a few strokes, blowing first gently on it. Jin shuddered and grabbed the back of Jungkook’s neck, squeezing just enough to be known. Jungkook watched goosebumps appear on his thick thighs. He leaned down further and sucked Jin’s cock into his mouth. He flicked the slowly melting ice chip over and around it, using Jin’s grip on the back of his neck to guide what felt the best. Yoongi’s moans were filling the air, as well as the heavy breathing of all three and the wet noises of the two sucking. Jin pulled back and swallowed, gasping and moaning Jungkook’s name. Yoongi sank to the ground and grabbed another ice chip, tapping Jungkook on the shoulder. He moved back, allowing Yoongi to take over. 

Jungkook stood and grabbed a forkful of the cheesecake. He slowly streaked it down his belly and over his cock, leaving a little bite on the tip of his cock. Jin smirked, his mouth open already. Jungkook guided him to his cock, moaning when Jin took his tip into his mouth. He sucked hard, flicking his tongue over the top of the head to get the remnants of cheesecake. He moved up then, shifting as much as he could with his cock in Yoongi’s mouth, and licked and nibbled at Jungkook’s belly. Down, over his cock, firm licks and daring grazes of his teeth that had Jungkook tensing in preparation for pain – and moaning in disbelieving arousal when it didn’t come. He was dribbling precoma freely, and knew he wouldn’t last long.  Jin pulled back and moaned, tugging on Yoongi’s hair gently.

“Stop, stop—I’m gonna come,” he whined.

Yoongi pulled back, looking up at him. “Isn’t that the point?” He teased. 

Jin chuckled. “I suppose. But it wouldn’t be fair of you to hoard it to yourself, what if Jungkook wanted a taste?”

Jungkook smirked. “He could share with me after it’s already in his mouth, I suppose.”

Jin’s breathing caught, just a bit, and he nodded. “I suppose he could.” He and Yoongi rose and Jin grabbed a small bowl from the fridge. “My homemade frosting,” he explained when Jungkook twitched his head at it. He uncovered the bowl and took a spoon, stirring it. “Yoongi. Come here.” 

When Yoongi approached, he slathered the frosting over the length of Yoongi’s thick cock, adding a playful swirl to the dollop at the tip. He looked to Jungkook. “He’s the only one you’ve not tasted yet. Go for it.”

Jungkook sank down and took him into his mouth quickly, moaning around his length. The rich, sweet vanilla cream blended perfectly with Yoongi’s salty precome, dribbling in and teasing him with the promise of more. Jungkook bobbed his head quickly, eager to swallow down both the frosting and Yoongi’s unique taste. Yoongi held back no sounds, tugging softly at Jungkook’s hair as he moaned happily. 

Jin dropped down next to Jungkook, shifting to suck and lick at the part of Yoongi’s cock not in Jungkook’s mouth. They switched, taking turns lavishing attention over Yoongi’s cock. Their mouths often met in wet kisses, his cock slotted between their lips. He whined, his hips bucking. 

“Please—” He panted. “It’s okay, you can come,” Jin purred, swallowing his cock down. He backed up, letting Jungkook do the same. They kept at it until Yoongi’s cock began to throb. As it did, Jungkook pulled back, holding it towards them and stroking quickly. The ropes of come erupted from his cock, hitting both on the cheeks and open mouths. Jungkook whined softly, feeling a rope shoot over his tongue. As his orgasm faded, Jin grabbed Jungkook’s face, kissing him hard. They cleaned Yoongi’s release from one another with kisses, sharing the salty treat between them. 

Yoongi sank down, his legs shaking visibly. He grabbed for Jungkook and Jin’s cocks, stroking one in each hand as they made out. Jungkook pulled back in time to see Yoongi leaning forward, swallowing Jin’s cock down as he stroked Jungkook’s. He switched after a few moments, wrapping his perfect lips around Jungkook’s cock and stroking Jin’s. 

“God, I’m already close,” Jungkook whined, holding onto Jin as Yoongi bobbed his head along his shaft. 

“Come in his mouth,” Jin murmured. “You can see how much he wants it.”

Yoongi whined in agreement, his breath hot around Jungkook’s cock. He began to bob his head a little faster, reaching up to play with Jungkook’s balls as he did. 

“That’s it,” Jin praised, stroking the back of Yoongi’s neck. Jungkook let his head fall onto Jin’s shoulder, his fingers biting into his side as Yoongi’s mouth dragged him closer to orgasm. He grunted, biting his lip. Jin slid his hand down, squeezing Jungkook’s ass. He brushed his finger teasingly over Jungkook’s hole, smirking when he jumped. 

“Sensitive,” teased.

Jungkook moaned, pushing his hips forward, pumping into Yoongi’s mouth, and back toward Jin’s hand. The hand disappeared from his ass for a moment. He heard Jin spit and it was back, one finger slipping into his hole. Jungkook shouted in surprise. His hips jerked forward and back, gagging Yoongi.

“Sorry,” he panted, laughing breathlessly as Jin began to finger him. Yoongi gave a thumbs up, shifting to adjust his movements. 

Jin found Jungkook’s prostate easily and began to rub and press it, murmuring soft praises in his ear. 

Jungkook whimpered. He tugged Yoongi’s hair gently. “I can’t hold back,” he gasped in warning. Yoongi nodded as well as he could and pulled back, focusing his oral work on Jungkook’s tip. He rubbed and pressed his balls gently at the same time Jin pushed a second finger up his ass, scissoring them and rubbing against his spot. Jungkook swore, his legs beginning to shake. His cock jerked as his orgasm hit, spilling ropes of come into Yoongi’s mouth. 

Jin slowed his fingers but kept them buried inside Jungkook, rubbing just enough to keep a low level orgasmic buzz running through Jungkook as he milked him dry. 

Yoongi rose, his mouth open to show the come in it. He winked at Jungkook before pulling Jin into a deep kiss. Jungkook struggled to stay upright, watching them share his come.

When Yoongi pulled away, Jin withdrew his fingers momentarily.

“Can I keep fingering you while I come?” He asked. 

Jungkook smirked tiredly. “Of course.” He bent over the desk, wiggling his ass playfully. 

“Wanna finger mine too?” Yoongi teased.

“Well, I’d like to do more than that,” Jin murmured, kissing Yoongi once more. “But I’ll settle for rubbing off on it… If you’ll let me.” 

Yoongi immediately bent over the desk next to Jungkook, kissing him softly. Jin added more spit to Jungkook’s hole, going back to fingering him lazily. Jungkook whined, his soft cock still dribbling weak ropes of come at the right pressure on his spot. He glanced over, watching Jin spit on his other hand to slick his cock. He slid it up, along Yoongi’s perky ass, and moaned, immediately beginning to hump against it. 

After a while, Jin pulled his fingers free from Jungkook’s hole and squeezed Yoongi’s ass, swearing softly. 

“Spread it,” he panted. Yoongi obeyed, spreading his ass open for Jin. 

Jin spat against his hole, and Jungkook watched him slide a finger in gently. Yoongi moaned, deep in his chest as he did. Jin removed his finger and lined his cock up, poking the tip gently against Yoongi’s tight hole. He paused, jerking his cock quickly. 

He moved over to Jungkook, squeezing his ass. 

“Spread,” he panted. Jungkook obeyed, blushing darkly when he heard Jin spit and felt a glob land on his hole. Jin went immediately with his cock, spreading it with the tip and nudging Jungkook’s hole. Slightly more relaxed from the earlier fingering, Jungkook felt his hole give a little, and he moaned.

“Goddamnit,” Jin panted. Jungkook could hear him stroking his cock, the nudges against his hole becoming more persistent. “I wish I could fuck you both,” he grunted.

“Next time I’ll have lube,” Yoongi murmured. “I’d particularly like to see you take Jungkook and pound him against the wall… Looks like you make such pretty sounds with a cock up your ass, Jungkook.”

Jungkook laughed breathlessly, moaning softly. “I think I do… I love begging for it,” he admitted.

Both Jin and Yoongi made appreciative noises. 

“I’d like to fuck him after,” Yoongi continued. “Lay him on his his belly right over there… And fuck him after you gape his ass. You could fuck me while I was doing it.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jin swore. He moved between them and grabbed the plate of cheesecake, setting it on the table. With a soft groan and a series of rhythmic grunts, Jin came, thick ropes spilling from his cock over the dessert. 

Jungkook met Yoongi’s gaze and smirked, understanding the intention. They both grabbed forks and began to cut into the cake, feeding one another the come covered bites over Jin’s cock. He moaned softly, seeming to shudder and relax as they ate. Jungkook scooped up the last bite and stood straight, holding it out for Jin, he took it gladly, meeting Jungkook’s gaze as he chewed and swallowed. He leaned forward, kissing Yoongi and then Jungkook. Jungkook returned the kiss, pulling back to kiss Yoongi as well. 

The three redressed and cleaned up the office in relative silence, each seeming to be going over what had happened.

“So… That was… Admittedly a little unexpected,” Yoongi said finally, settling into his chair behind the desk. Jin, for all his gusto, looked a little shy, and Jungkook was worried. 

“Was it too much?” Jungkook asked. 

“I don’t think so. Not for me, at least… What about you two?” 

“I liked it,” Jin said. “I had fun and it was a good way to… Try out this dynamic, of all three of us. I’ve never… I’ve never dated more than one person at a time, but I like Jungkook, and I want to try it. And I know it’s where you feel comfortable. So for me, it was nice to sort of… See where we all stood and get close in a new way.”

Jungkook nodded. “I agree. I had said earlier today that I’d be fine with my partner dating someone else, and I kept thinking about that during the day. My mind did wander to Jin a few times, I won’t lie. I think he’s the best match for both of us. He and I have always had our…”

“Rivalry,” Jin filled in, laughing a little, and Jungkook nodded.

“Yes, rivalry. That I have enjoyed. And I obviously care a lot for you, Yoongi… I’m happy with tonight and… I hope we can move forward as a … Well, not really a couple, are we?”

Yoongi laughed. “Not exactly. There’s a lot of words that people have come up with for folks in our dynamic, we can figure it out later. For now I’m content just knowing that there’s no regrets. And that we all want to move forward into… Dating.”

Jungkook and Jin both nodded eagerly. 

“How will dating work?” Jungkook asked. “Do the three of us go together? Two at a time? I mean… Since Jin and I, I figured… You are okay with… Wanting to date me too?”

“I’d like to try it,” Jin said, nodding in agreement.

“I’ve never actually had this kind of relationship,” Yoongi admitted, “despite wanting it for so long. I think we’ll have to sit down together and really hash out what each of us need in a relationship, and how the other two can best provide it. I do know that for this sort of thing… We need to be open with each other.”

Yoongi rose as he spoke, going over to Jin and Jungkook. He took each of their hands in his own. “Communicating is the only way this can work, okay? No more secrets, no more unspoken words and passive aggressive pranking.”

Thy all shared a chuckle at that. Jungkook shook his head. “I think pranking has really become Jin and I’s love language… You’re not gonna stop the pranks, Yoongi.”

Yoongi sighed dramatically, grinning. “And here I was hoping I’d get to avoid Jin shouting at seven in the morning when you’ve stolen his mixer yet again.”

Jungkook grinned brightly as Jin laughed. 

“Look, that was a good prank!” Jungkook defended.

“Yeah, only because I returned it shutting down your fuse box the next day.”

Jungkook glared, but grinned as he was doing it. “We’ll keep you out of the pranks,” he promised, looking back to Yoongi.

“I don’t mind. Just don’t prank me.”

“It’s late,” Jin said. “Why don’t we all have a light dinner together tomorrow after closing? We can meet here, I’ll bring some stuff from the bakery too, and we can have some of the leftover sandwiches from your café. We can all sit together and really talk about what we need and what we’d like from this sort of relationship.”

Jungkook and Yoongi nodded. “I like that idea. I’d like to think more about it anyways,” Jungkook admitted. “I know I want this, but I’ve not been in a lot of relationships, so… When someone asks me what I want from even a traditional two person… I don’t think I could answer. I need to really think and figure it out.”

“I feel like that’s a fair assessment,” Yoongi said. “I’m in a similar boat. The idea that you’re both… Mine… It’s a lot. I’m happy. I’m just overwhelmed.”

“You never thought you could have this,” Jin said. Yoongi nodded.

“Well you do,” Jungkook stepped forward and hugged Yoongi tightly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “And we might have to figure out the fine-tuning stuff, but you have us. It’s not a dream.”

Yoongi hugged him back, nuzzling his neck. “Thank you.”

“We care a lot about you, Yoongi. No matter what. I think I can speak for Jungkook too when I say that this is a good move for us all. We’re happy, and we’ll be happy like this,” Jin said. He wrapped his arms around them both, enveloping them in a tight hug. 

They separated after a moment and Jungkook grabbed his bag. “Come on, we should get going. Do you have any last-minute things to do?”

“No, I’m all closed up here, just have to shut off lights.” Yoongi headed to the back of the office and grabbed his jacket, flicking off the lights and basking them in darkness.

The trio walked to the doors and stepped out into the cool night air, letting Yoongi lock his door. They stood for a moment, all looking at one another in the streetlights. “Well, I go this way,” Jungkook said, jutting his finger in the direction of his bus stop. 

“I’m that way too,” Yoongi said. 

“I go the other way,” Jin said. He glanced around then stepped forward and kissed Yoongi long and hard. Jungkook chuckled a little at it. It was cute, if he was being honest. Jin glared playfully at him. “What’re you laughing at, punk?” He joked. He grabbed Jungkook’s shirt and pulled him into a kiss as well. 

He stood straight and fixed his shirt. “I’ll see you two tomorrow.”

“Get home safely,” Yoongi said. They watched Jin walk down the street before turning and walking up it. 

“How far up do you go?” Yoongi asked. 

“My bus stop is about two blocks away.”

“Do you live very far?”

Jungkook shook his head no. “Only a few miles. Just a little too far to walk or ride a bike in, so I have to do the bus.”

Yoongi nodded. “I only live about half a mile up, so I usually walk it. Do you have a car, for the winter?”

“No, but the bus stop is right outside my apartment so it’s not so bad. The city keeps these streets shoveled well.”

“Hm… Well, we’ll see when winter comes. I have a car, I just don’t bother using it except winter with how close I live. I wonder how far down Jin lives.” He glanced back. 

“We can ask him tomorrow.” 

They reached Jungkook’s bus stop. Yoongi sighed softly. “I wanted to thank you.”

“For what?”

“The conversation we had this afternoon gave me so much joy and confidence… Just hearing someone support me and give me hope that I could be truly happy… And then I know you sent Jin to me. Even though you knew it might mean losing me if I didn’t want you as a third, I… Your care means so much.”

Jungkook smiled softly. “I fell for you the minute I saw you, Yoongi. I want you to be happy, no matter what. And getting to be with you… And with Jin… It’s perfect. For as much as he and I argue, he’s an amazing man.”

“He is… And so are you.” Yoongi took Jungkook’s hands and squeezed gently. “I’m so happy that this happened.”

Jungkook grinned, his heart skipping a beat. He leaned forward and kissed Yoongi gently. “My bus will be here soon,” he said, not stepping away from Yoongi. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you.” Yoongi kissed him once more before letting his hands go and heading down the street. 

Jungkook sighed heavily, a grin on his face as he did. Though he’d been hoping for a good result from finally confronting his feelings, this was a better one that he’d ever imagined. He knew that their future would be a sweet as the coffee and pastries his new boyfriends created.

[is-it-art-tho]

Summary: A mission gone awry, too many memories, too much blood, and not enough time. Bruce races to save a son he couldn't save before.

Prologue, Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6, Ch. 7, Ch. 8

_________

Then.

“Who’s the bat now?” a young voice shouted.

Bruce paused halfway through the foyer and looked up. “Get down before you hurt yourself,” he called back.

Twelve-year-old Jason was hanging from the second-floor banister with his legs curled around the handrail, grinning impishly. “You sound like Alfred. We do way more dangerous stuff than this like every night.”

“That’s not the—” Bruce began, but the boy’s eyes zeroed in on the bowl of chocolates he was holding under his arm.

“Are those truffles?!” Jason stuck out his hands and grasped at the air between them. “Gimme gimme gimme!”

“You can have as many as you want once you get down.”

This, of course, was a lie. The first and last time Bruce had made a promise like this had involved a three-tiered cake left mostly untouched after a company party. He had been expecting Jason to have maybe three slices, max. The kid had instead eaten almost half of it, then proceeded to spend the rest of the night gagging and moaning over the toilet. (Alfred had laid into Bruce for that one: “What sort of promise is that to make to a child? Honestly!”)

A bright smile flashed across Jason’s face as he started to sit up before pausing then letting himself flop back upside down again with an accusatory frown. “Wait a second. You did that thing.”

“What thing?

“That thing with your eyebrows that you do whenever you’re makin’ stuff up.” Jason tried to demonstrate, scrunching his face around cartoonishly. “Liar.”

“All right, all right. Fair enough,” Bruce conceded, making a mental note to work on that particular tell. “But the point still stands. Leave that stuff for the practice mats and patrol.”

“Okayyy. But can you just throw one in my mouth? Please?”

Despite trying to maintain some semblance of sternness, a small grin tugged at the corner of Bruce’s mouth as he took in Jason’s pathetic excuse for puppy dog eyes. “Jason…”

“Just one?”

With a resigned sigh, Bruce plucked a single truffle from the bowl. “Alright. Just—”

***************************

Now.

“—one,” Bruce grunted over the pouring rain, adjusting the weight of Jason’s arm slung across his shoulders. When had he gotten so big? “C’mon, Jay. One step. There you go. One foot in front of the other.”

Jason’s head lolled forward as he struggled to remain upright, dragging a boot forward, then the other, his feet barely leaving the slick cobblestones. “I…hate Germany.”

“I know. We’ll be home soon.”

“Liar,” the young man rasped. He lifted his head enough to grin at Bruce, and it was a gruesome sight—his helmet was long gone, and now long trails of blood hung from his nose and mouth, his teeth a row of red—but it was somehow encouraging all the same.

“You can’t even see my eyebrows.”

“Don’t have to.”

Bruce feigned alarm. “Don’t tell me I have another tell.”

“Loads of ‘em.”

“Now who’s the lia—" he started then stopped abruptly.

The two of them heard it at the same time, muted in the downpour, but distinct—a series of quick and careful steps rushing up from behind.

Jason’s head swiveled first, and his eye that wasn’t swollen shut flew wide. Before Bruce had time to react, he was being shoved out of the way, stumbling on wet stones and falling hard as Jason spun to face the man in the balaclava that was charging towards them.

The assassin’s black uniform was barely visible in the shimmering dark of the rain, but as lightning tore through the clouds, he was lit in blinding relief, as was the ornate dagger in his hand.

And Bruce watched Jason spot the weapon too, but the young man's body was in no state to react the way it needed to, and in the span of a single breath, the dagger was gone, plunged deep into the young man’s abdomen.

The following crack of thunder was rivaled only by Bruce’s own roar.

***************************

Then.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know.” Bruce stepped aside to let Jason shuffle past him and into Bruce’s personal quarters on the Watchtower, noting with a small pang of sympathy how the young boy started to limp as soon as the door closed behind them and there was no chance of one of the others seeing.

The boy flopped onto the bed with his face flat against the sheets. “Do what?”

“Go through all those drills with us,” he said, tugging off his shirt with some difficulty—already he was beginning to get sore. “It’s not an easy training routine. Even some of us tap out sometimes.”

“Wanted to.”

“Hm.” Bruce glanced at his bare torso in the mirror where bruises were already beginning to form. “Can I ask why?”

When Jason didn’t answer, he glanced at the boy in the mirror. “Jay.”

Still nothing. Had he passed out? Bruce turned, ready to rush him to the infirmary, only to find Jason perfectly awake and apparently furious. He was glaring at the ceiling with such an intensity Bruce had no doubt it would have melted if he’d had heat vision.

“This is about what Diana said,” he surmised, leaning back against the dresser. “You’re aware she wasn’t trying to offend you.”

“She said I wasn’t good enough.”

“No,” Bruce corrected patiently.

“She said I wasn’t as good as him.”

“She also said you had heart, which is something she doesn’t throw around lightly.” Bruce bent to pull a water bottle from the mini fridge and tossed it onto the bed beside Jason who made no move to grab it. “And you have to keep in mind Dick was almost sixteen the first time they met. He had a lot of experience under his belt by then. You just turned thirteen.”

“But it’s not just that,” Jason explained, openly exasperated. He sat up and pulled his domino off to cradle it in his hands like a living thing. “It’s everybody. Everybody thinks he was better than me. He’s the real Robin and I’m just…the replacement. I wanna show them that I’m the real thing, too. And that you didn’t make a mistake when you…”

He stopped short, but the rest of the sentence rang in the air anyway as if he had shouted it: You didn’t make a mistake when you chose me.

Bruce struggled to find the right words to say, to find that balance between sincerity and what Jason would certainly read as coddling. It was a fine line, and one he often stumbled over, and precious seconds ticked by in silence until at last Jason’s demeanor shifted.

The young boy’s face twisted into a stubborn smile, and Bruce knew instantly that the window of opportunity had passed.

“But who cares what they think anyway?” Jason smirked. “I know who I am so whatever.”

Another moment fumbled due to Bruce’s own ineptitude. He was no good at these conversations—not the way Clark and Alfred and even Dick were—and he cursed himself for it.

“Okay if I shower first?” the boy asked, scooting to the edge of the bed where he started unlacing his boots.

“Sure,” Bruce sighed. “Towels are in the drawer.”

Jason was nearly to the bathroom with a towel in hand when a knock came at the door and Bruce called, “Come in.”

The door slid open, and Clark stepped in, already showered and changed. In his hand was a pair of clippers.

“Thanks for letting me borrow these. Hey!” he beamed, turning to Jason. “Well, look at you!”

“What?” Jason shot back defensively, looking himself over. “What?”

“Nothing. Just happy to see you up and around so fast. You know, the first time we trained together as a team, this guy,” Clark held up a hand to block the fact that he was pointing directly at Bruce—Bruce saw it anyway—“came back here and slept for about eight hours. Everyone thought he was dead.”

“Seriously?!”

“No,” Bruce interjected.

“Alright. Five,” Clark allowed.

Bruce’s voice dipped threateningly. “Clark.”

“Did I mention he puked?”

By the time the deodorant left Bruce’s hand and exploded against the wall, Clark was already grinning mischievously from the other side of the room, his cape settling back around him.

Meanwhile, Jason was bent double, laughing harder than Bruce had seen in a long time. “You puked?” he wheezed.

“Like a fire hydrant,” Clark chimed, eliciting another roar of laughter. It was as innocent and contagious and perfect a sound as Bruce had ever heard, filling the small space easily.

The two men exchanged a quick knowing glance while Jason laughed, confirming what Bruce had suspected from the moment the other man had arrived—one way or another, Clark noticed that something was wrong.

Clark raised an eyebrow—a question—and Bruce nodded: He’ll be okay and Thank you packed into the quick dip of his chin. Clark smiled.

Setting aside the clippers, the Kryptonian crossed the room to pat Jason on the back, saying earnestly, “Good work today. Really.”

“Thanks,” Jason said, and this time the smile that slid across his face was genuine.

After Clark had gone, Jason whispered, “Did you really do all that stuff?”

“He exaggerated.”

“But?”

“Yes, I vomited,” Bruce offered at last, more than willing to fall on this sword if it meant hearing that sound again. After a moment’s consideration he added, “Flash slipped in it.”

And again, Jason was howling, letting himself fall back against the wall and as he gripped his ribs. “I can’t breathe!” he gasped between peals of laughter. “I—"

[jostepherjoestar]

An Educational Favour: V

NOTsfw // FEM! reader & pronouns

warnings/notes: 18+ content, minors dni, it’s Melone x reader x Risotto, interc0urse, v0yeurism?, sex toys, footjob, lingerie, double stuffed creampuff (lord i can’t type the real thing for some reason), sensual vibes, risotto yearns, reader yearns, melone gets treated, dynamic changes! and honestly nothing that extreme for dear melon man

part 1- 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7

PART V: 💜Melone💜

“What about this one?” Like a quality inspector the lithe form a little ways further examined the soft lace between his slender fingers. Pads carefully assessing any sign of future discomfort before holding it up, presenting it to you and all the other nosy patrons that had quietly started whispering to each other. As you noticed the audience that had gathered, their curious side glances still not sure who exactly that strange purple haired man was shopping for, you felt a blush caress your cheeks. “I don’t really like that colour Melone. A bit too cold maybe.” You hurried to his side while offering your hushed answer, letting go of the cute set you had been admiring an isle away. The stares and muttering were starting to annoy you, Melone seeming completely unaware of them as his brows knitted together in thought, placing the thong back on the steel rack. Either he hadn’t a clue to his surroundings or he simply didn’t care. The thought of strangers always treating him this way saddened you, shortly after followed by anger. Yes, he was a special guy with even more unusual tastes but he was just as deserving of respect as any other, those nosy shoppers were here for the exact same reason as the both of you. “What about this…for you?” 

That kind smile offering a comfort, an apology, for the onlookers and their rudeness. The man wasn’t oblivious, he knew- but accepted your generous smile anyways. He’d always liked the contrast you offered, a soul so gentle, so curious, a little puppy who packed quite the large bite, considering how successful you proved to be at your shared occupation. He took the strappy teddy bodysuit adorned with lace decorations from your gentle hold, giving it his usual assessment before a mischievous smile curled his lips. “Di molto! How’d you know I liked purple?” He nudged his elbow playfully into your side while picking out his size and laying it in the shared basket. 

It had been his idea to go shopping together to get some nice pieces you’d all enjoy, Risotto will just have to wait and see what the two of you had picked out. “Come on Melone! We have to get to the salon on time!” Pulling the distracted shopper along, hooked in his elbow while he held onto the paper shopping bags filled with light pink fabric hiding the goodies from the public. Peeling him away from his laser focus on another frilly robe. So delicate; the thought of seeing Melone’s trained but slender figure in that nicely fitting bodice already letting loose a few excited tingles near your thighs as you hurried to your next stop. 

For once Risotto didn’t even need to explain your next guest’s preferences. On a particularly quiet evening your tentative colleague slid into your room, knocking while he’d opened the door, defeating its very purpose. “So about our little adventure! Let’s chat.” His excitement so obvious as he made himself comfortable at the foot of your bed, crossing his legs and playing with the comforter that you’d been resting under, already half asleep when he entered. And before you knew, it had been an hour already, wide awake as he walked you through his array of likes. Some seemed more appealing than others but the man was fair and didn’t mean to make you do anything you weren’t fully comfortable with. Deciding that if you were to explore his fascination with feet and hands, it would only do you both good to go and get mani-pedis together. The rest of his plans would come to fruition on the day itself. 

All shiny and clean, your hands having never felt softer or smelling this lovely, like you’d been marinating in a vat of vanilla syrup for a couple of days. It had been such a nice outing, quite the change of pace from the otherwise mundane free time you’d have. 

“One more thing, sweetheart.” His closeness making every hair on your body raise up to the heavens, his lips kissing the shell of your ear as he handed over a small bag alongside the others. Clinging to every syllable of that smooth voice, anticipating the next while heat built in your core. “We’ll have some fun with these before our lovely meeting tomorrow. We’ll switch remotes.” You didn’t even need to know the content of the little baggy, that curious mind of yours having seen enough lewd toys to know the one’s he’d gotten to play with. You hadn’t the power to reply, the way he exuded an aura of arousal letting only a breathy hum escape you. Oh this was going to be quite the educational endeavour. 

—

The thick golden liquid dripped from its dipper, landing in satisfying folds as the high pitched shrieks from the steaming kettle settled down when you turned off the heat. A nice hot cup of tea with a tad too much honey always hit the spot on a chilly day like this, bundled up in a cozy cardigan and feeling a little too aware of the foreign object currently residing inside you. It hadn’t started its buzzing, the anticipation of any movement had already liquified your determination to keep up appearances while moving about the kitchen. 

Risotto had been working hard all week, drowning in stacks of documents, phone calls or secret emails that kept him away from the very work his superiors kept dropping on him. That being the exact reason you’d also poured him a cup of the comforting drink, scuttling over to his office to hand it off. But as you stood there, two cups in hand, not a free one to open the door with, you called for you capo. Your soft voice like a siren call to the overworked man, and unbeknownst to you just yet, a very audible confirmation to Melone. A low buzzing startled you. So it began. A sly smirk quirking up the corner of your lips. “You won’t get me that easily, asshole.” You whispered to yourself, treating the tall looming figure that had come to open the door. “Here. Take a break for a minute.” Albeit reluctant, Risotto accepted the hot mug, his long strides only needing two or three steps to place him back behind his desk again. You took up the invitation that he hadn’t even extended, sitting yourself down on the chair reserved for his guests. Well now you were one. But the low buzzing tickling your insides, offering little to no stimulation still made you straighten your back. The sensation only letting you rest at the very edge of the seat. 

Knowing how much your superior appreciated silence, you opted not to engage in any useless smalltalk. Leaning back in his chair, letting his tremendous legs stretch, he breathed out a short groan. You offered a small smile as comfort, reminding yourself that the purple haired gentleman had oh so lovingly handed you a small remote as well. The silicone nub of buttons thudded gently as you placed it on the large oaken desk, making Risotto avert his gaze, landing it on the bright pink object. He quirked an eyebrow while intently staring back at you, searching for an answer. “Do you mind if I help you out a bit, Ris? Just to get a load off.” A devious little grin at the play of words, pressing a single button to activate the small device that resided in your colleague a few rooms away. “Sure. Start with that pile over there, consigliere Topollino wants those sorted.” You still weren’t sure if Risotto had caught on to what was happening, unsure of his knowledge in assorted sex toys. Fortunately for you, your commencing of mutual buzzing only egged on the other side, sending an intenser vibration through you as it gained. power. A small gasp left your lips, quickly clearing your throat and sipping from the warm drink in front of you to mask the new sensation. 

The tickling had little effect before but now the pace had quickened. You wondered if you capo even heard the soft hum of the toy, getting increasingly wetter, clenching around the form inside you. As best as you could, you started sorting the stack, gripping some documents a little too harshly as you felt your building pleasure earn footing. To retort the growing feeling, you pressed your remote twice, upping the speed and intensity, a wicked sense of satisfaction overtaking you at the thought of Melone wriggling in his seat. And as if he’d been planning it, the purple haired man struck again. “Shit.” That small huff out offering no sense of release as the hum continued. 

You were getting closer and closer, not even concentrated on the papers anymore as you gripped the armrests of the chair instead. Risotto peeled his dark eyes away from his screen, ceasing his tapping on the loud keyboard. “Are you feeling alright? You look a bit red.” Behind his minimal concern was a twinge of amusement, his trained ears had already picked up on the buzzing and that flashy coloured remote only solidified the answer to his own questions. You and Melone were in the middle of a heated teasing battle. The sight of your flushed cheeks, that earnest glimmer in your eyes he’s been so taken with, ever familiar. You were pretty bad at hiding it too, those short pants and wriggling in your seat, nails drug into the chair. Were you even trying to be discreet? As the thoughts ran through his head, not even caring that your only answer was a quick hum, he felt his cock harden slowly, enjoying the invisible battle. 

You couldn’t handle it any longer, breaths getting heavier by the second as you fumbled with the remote, pressing down again to increase power. If he was making you come undone in front of your capo, for the fifth time, you’d gladly return the favour. He was alone in his room but you were sure the thought alone had made him cream his pants. “Try and keep those documents in order. You’ll have to start all over again otherwise.” A hint of a smug grin dented his cheek as he kept his eyes on you, sipping his tea with great ease, enjoying the view of his struggling little minx. “F-fuck! I’ll try.” You stuttered as the tension kept building, inching closer to your peak by the second. Just as you gave the sorting another go, you toppled over the edge, mewling as the stimulation didn’t relent, crinkling the papers in your fist as you pinched your eyes shut. Risotto’s smirk only grew wider, taking in how you squirmed through your orgasm wondering if you’d pushed Melone far enough as well. 

Try as you did, nothing changed, the humming still going strong inside as your walls clenched around the toy. “He’s not stopping.” You grunted, growing agitated at the overstimulation, standing up from your seat with the strength of a newborn calf. That deep breath out offering a semblance of confidence as you moved to the door, that handle being close to ripped out of its socket as you held on for dear life, another wave of pleasure making itself known. The burn of overstimulation not as strong as your resolve to choke out the man who kept up his teasing. You wondered if he was writhing just as much as you as you made you way into the hall. Your swear you heard a small chuckle come from your capo’s office. 

Just as you reached Melone’s door, Ghiaccio stepped into the hall, offering a quick nod as his cheeks flushed red like yours. Something that kept happening whenever you met him alone since your meeting with him. Concern graced his usually grumpy features as he saw you pant and cling to Melone’s door. “What’s happening? Are you hurt?” The softness of his voice coaxing your second orgasm as he tightly gripped your shoulders between his hands. Those familiar moans ringing through him while you lost balance at the sensation. “I’m sorry Ghia. Shit, I have to go!” You trembled, practically falling into Melone’s room, quickly shutting the door behind you. The curly haired man was left to himself, a bit perplexed before huffing loudly when he realised what had been going on, those beautiful noises you made were all too familiar. As quickly as you left him, his hardness grew, hastily bringing the man back into his room, the thing he set out to do already forgotten while he furiously started his own stimulation. 

“Turn it off Melone!” You huffed, scrambling to his bed where he lay. Splayed out like a Greek marble statute, like Dionysus indulging in earthly pleasures, moving his hand over his shaft with a wide grin, not a semblance of strain gracing his façade. A Cheshire Cat grin mocking you for crumbling so easily. “Had enough, darling?” Emphasising his pet name for you, groaning theatrically while his eyes pierced yours. He seemed so unfazed, basking in the stimulation but so trained to not let on. With a swift click he stopped your toy, offering you relief from the buzzing, your body remembering the sensation, leaning against his desk chair and keeping your eyes on his length. It was slender and long, just like him. Not an imperfection in sight as it faintly leaned left. 

His strokes got more powerful, moaning only growing louder, so melodic as you recovered, sweetly egging him on with that sharp stare. Melone’s eyes fluttered as he bucked into his fist, white spurts of his come painting his toned abs. As he basked in his orgasm, you regained your senses, remembering you hadn’t brought the remote with you . “Shit let me get the remote!” You scrambled back to your feet, legs still feeling like jelly as you returned to Risotto’s office where he sat, that same smug grin never having left his lips as he continued his work, length straining at his trousers. 

As quick as you could, you shut off the toy. That little sigh leaving Melone not sounding like relief but slight annoyance that you’d stopped. “I would have kept going, but alas. We’ll continue this later.” That cheeky wink making you smile, already curious to that slender member inside of you, not before putting that pedicure to good use though.  

—

Melone hummed softly, admiring his own form in the floor length mirror that resides near your closet. His slender digits moving over the softness of the lace decorations, the comfort of the fabric so delicate against his supple skin. Behind him, resting on the edge of the bed was you, carefully rolling up stockings to your thighs, fastening them with the garter clips. Besides the thin see-through nylon and the detailed fabric resting on your hips supporting the hosiery, your body remained nude. The sensation of having lazily pulled up the fabric, caressing your legs in the meantime, had already earned a few excited flutters from your core. 

As you fastened the robe you’d picked out yesterday, Melone’s favourite choice so far, you stood up to nudge the lithe man out of his personal haze. “Ready?” You hummed as you snaked an arm around his waist, admiring his reflection with a soft stare. He felt so appreciated in that moment, admired, desired even. A feeling he rarely gets to experience as his advances are normally cut short. “Mhm, ready.” His tone so gentle, offering a quick smile before intertwining his lanky fingers with your, leading the way to his own room where Risotto awaited his colleagues. 

The confidence you’d built up never faltering as your capo’s intense gaze raked over every inch of your thinly covered figure. Like he was seeing it for the first time again, enjoying every little detail of the flouncy robe loosely cradling your breasts. How could someone look so lovely, so endearingly gorgeous? And why did all strength leave him because of it? He felt helpless against your eager charm, having to aptly remind himself of the position he was in. Tutor, albeit with the occasional hands on approach. 

“D’you like it?” Your questioned aired while Melone went to lay himself down on his bed like he had earlier this afternoon, that toned form so intoxicating, moving with care. He was making sure to flaunt his every muscle and curve before resting on his side, leaning his grinning face on his palm. “Yes.” The short answer enough of a confirmation from Risotto, neither of you had disappointed him with the choice of garments. Somehow hanging around that purple haired fellow made you even more alluring, the air feeling thick with anticipation as you strode over to the bed. Both stares trained on you when you tossed the robe, revealing that lovely body of yours to the cool air and the two men. Even though both of them had already seen you naked, they still gawked, a hushed “di molto!” falling from Melone’s wetted lips, his tongue moving over them. 

“Today-“ you paused, sighing dramatically while taking place at the end of Melone’s wide bed, opening your legs as you leaned back on your elbows, pussy displayed to the man that moved his form so he had the best view of your already glistening folds. “We’re going to be indulging. A lot. Right Melone?” You grinned, every word emphasised, that purr stolen from Melone’s tactics as you turned your head back to your capo. His expression not faltering but the straining of his length already gaining against his trousers. Melone hummed in response, completely taken in by the alluring vision before him, many thoughts already racing through his lewd mind. Those childbearing hips, that eager form so inviting and nearly dragging him in as his cock hardened under his pretty bodice. “First, we’re going to put that pedicure to good use, aren’t we? Risotto, would you be so kind as to throw me that bottle of lotion? We’re a bit preoccupied at the moment.” As much as your tone implied condescension, your capo complied, throwing the little bottle to your side, moving a nylon covered foot gently over Melone’s hardening length. A satisfied mewl already escaping him while you leisurely moved the pad of your foot against it. 

It was all quite new for you but after doing much scientific research on the lithe man’s handy laptop you felt confident to emulate the theoretical knowledge you’d picked up. The unusual but sensual tone you’d been using of your own inclination, knowing just how much it excited you when Melone purred into your ear before. 

Before teasing him any longer with the soft drags of your toes over his shaft you sat up and moved between his legs while his hungry gaze followed your every move. The way your breasts just so plumply invited him, making him yearn to suck them raw as you writhed under him. His little fantasy was cut short, your soft hands covered in the cold lotion inching the fabric covering his aching cock to the side and revealing his slender length. It was just as beautiful up close.

Your lathered fingers moved with care, pumping only its head as he bucked his hips ever so slightly, earning him a soft tap to his hip from your other hand, ordering him to behave. That confidence never for a second wavered as you worked the sensitive tip, cooing at the recipient. The condescending act so new but if felt so fitting already. “Do you want me to rub my pretty feet on your cock, huh? Work them all over as you whine?” You teased, never averting your eyes from his. That devilish grin enjoying every minute of your little act, waiting to make you beg for more later on. “Oh you little flirt. Of course I’d like that.” He graciously accepted the offer, not bothered by your tone in the slightest, it only egged him on. His patience was a trained one, a self-taught skill. 

You resumed you previous position again, placing a single foot behind his shaft to support it and moving the other with its pad flat against the length, pumping him gently. It felt a bit clumsier than your hands but those strong calves of yours could handle the pressure of the continued motions. 

Quickening your pace every time Melone moaned in pleasure, making sure to move over that sensitive head with your toes every once in awhile. As the man got closer and closer, not a single bead of sweat presented itself. But the twitching of his cock between your feet betrayed his nearing peak. You heard Risotto adjust in his seat. A fast glance to the side confirmed your suspicion, the man was in need of friction, anything to stimulate that aching cock. “Tut tut. Not yet Risotto. You’ll get your chance.” You mocked as he stopped his hands, resting them back on his thighs as his member stood proud, no longer restrained. His eyes squinted in frustration. 

The sight only made you giggle as you focussed on making Melone come. Picking up the pace yet again, movements intensifying as his moans and pants filled the air. “Come for me Melone!” You ordered, grinning so devilishly it could sway Beelzebub himself. Without much more stimulation his hips bucked up, the same fluttering eyes as before fighting to keep open as his stare remained. The spurts of come covered his delicate bodice, staining the fabric as he shuddered, the orgasm having brought on more pleasure than expected. “Di molto amore!” He groaned as you removed your feet, the nylons having been soiled as well. 

“Good boy!” You commended softly. Those words pleased a deeper sense in him, not knowing just what to think of all this but oh so happy to participate. Things like this rarely happened to him, never really. His lack of dirty talk chalked up to a deeper wonderment, a disbelief that someone hadn’t found his charms off-putting but endearing instead. 

Senses already aptly regained, shoving away any insecure thoughts Melone snapped into action, moving over your resting figure in a brisk motion, pinning you under him as his lips clashed with yours. It felt so needy, letting on more than he’d like to admit to wanting you. Desperate but still deliberate he moved, a skilful tongue toying with yours, moaning into you so melodically. His vocalness was so endearing, the whole night already having you soaked. His curious digits moved over your figure, grazing the skin of your waist, lightly hovering over your nipples and playing with your breasts. “Fuck. Let me fill you up already.” The impatience in his voice surprising since he’d always seemed so patient until now. His kiss accompanying his faltering composure. 

“Now it’s time for you Risotto. Come over here and lay down for us.” Melone purred, making room for the large figure that strode over to do as he was told. While he positioned himself in the middle, Melone and you undressed, letting the soiled lingerie drop to the floor and admiring each other for a moment, so intoxicated with each others allure. Those carved lines on the lithe mans body like a guide, showing off all its best assets. “You won’t be needing those.” He gestured towards Risotto’s figure, ushering your capo to undress as well. 

God he looked so stunning, just like always. His rippling muscles moving so beautifully as he slid off his trousers and shirt. Like two hungry hyenas assessing their next meal you stared at the man splayed out in front of you, the two of you flanking his thighs on each side. Both resting a gentle hand on his thick quads. 

To Risotto’s surprise you took place over his hips, straddling him under your form. Your sensitive folds enjoying his aching shaft positioned perfectly between them, wetness already slicking it thoroughly. Your capo’s dark eyes widened and his brain short circuited at the unexpected move, confused as to what was happening. As much as he was perplexed- finally feeling your touch on him- that long awaited moment nearly made him come right then and there. But he remained strong and kept his composure. To make things even harder on him you broke the distance, you breasts now resting on his midriff and that cute face near his own chiseled mounds. It took all the strength he possessed, that had already been worn thin, not to move under you. Just the slightest adjustment and he could so easily enter your wanton core. Eyes so full of mischief stared up at his dark ones that tried their best to remain focussed on you. You weren’t making it easy for him. 

“Oh don’t worry capo, I’ll be doing the work today. You just rest up.” You didn’t even need to face the man behind to know he shot Risotto a cheeky wink. Writhing your figure over him, searching for that stimulation your clit desperately needed, Melone grabbed your hips to still them, having relented all power to him now. “Shhh bella, we’ll get to moving in a second.” The mattress dented further as his body moved closer, Risotto’s legs spread wide to accommodate the other man. 

Melone could barely contain himself, gently lining himself up behind you while an inquisitive finger entered your dripping core. It drove him wild to now he’d already made you so excited, knowing that the entire combination of your stoic capo that showed his iron restraint and his nimble form so hungry for yours crumbled you to an eager mess. Barely containing his need to fill you to the brim with seed while soft mewls escaped your lips. He returned his finger, licking it clean with fervour. “Di molto! You’re so delicious bella!” That buttery smooth voice leading his wanton cock to your hole, carefully slipping it in without any restraint. 

That groan so loud, hurrying himself inside fully, those warm walls accepting him with want. And as he commenced his pace, you slid over Risotto’s straining member with ease. Not only were you getting the stimulation you needed, so was the man under you, eyes still trained on yours while his senses needed to get used to your wonderfully soft skin grinding on his. 

It was almost methodical, the way Melone moved his hips, a greatly experimented tactic finally being put to use. And oh was it working, it seemed like his cock reached all the right places, every thrust- as gentle as they were, hit the most wonderful spots that made your head swim. Moaning and groaning with abandon Melone and you fully indulging and letting go of any inhibitions. But the man beneath remained quiet, too enamoured with his cock finally so close to your sopping cunt. 

His brows had started furrowing, maybe that chest moved a bit heavier than before, betraying just how badly he needed to let go. “Come on Risotto, let go for me. Please?” Soft pants against his chest, sucking little marks on his skin to coax him out from under that shell. When your hands found themselves wondering across his jawline, caressing them with such admiration he felt his chest tighten. Just how badly had you wrapped him around your finger? 

The sensual thrusting continued, adept fingers kneading at your plush hips while feeling the rush of your orgasm finally arrive, letting it ripple through you with abandon. Gripping Risotto’s throat with your fingers, digging into the skin as you clenched around Melone’s cock, making him hiss and stutter while trying to hold himself back for just a bit longer. Along with your whimpers and Melone’s moans, your other colleague finally took up your lesson, groaning softly, so sweetly it almost turned into a whining moan. “Thank you Ris.” You huffed your praise, offering more kisses and suckles at his chiseled chest, fingers loosening around his thick neck all the while your orgasm subsided.

Melone’s hips bucked, that familiar flutter arriving as well, coming undone inside your sensitive core with those same short spurts as before, moaning all the while. It felt so warm within your walls, the coldness so contrasting when he pulled out. That deeper desire to have filled you with his come finally satiated after so long. 

“Lets treat our patient capo, eh darling. He’s been so good for us.” He grinned deviously as he helped you off of Risotto who ached for his own orgasm. “Come inside of her.” He ordered, voice sterner than you had ever heard it. As you leaned back into the lithe man’s lap, letting him hold you tenderly while playing with your breasts, Risotto regained his senses just enough to move over you. His figure so huge, looming over you and pumping his shaft while his other arm held him up. That steel gaze having softened, letting go as you asked, revealing a needy tenderness that made your heart swell. 

“Fuck!” His deep voice gritted, his blushing tip leaning against your entrance while he unloaded inside. He was sure that the moment he’d let himself slip in, his resolve would falter. That last bit of strength holding him back, reminding that there would only be one more after this. One more until you’d be his alone. 

“Thank you boys.” You whispered, rubbing their arms tentatively, assuring them it’s was ok to rest now. Although the figure you’d been leaning against didn’t even seem that worn. Still feeling a bit peckish, Melone gently laid you down, moving easily between your legs after Risotto moved away. 

“One last thing.” That smooth voice sounding so endearing. Before you could even register that dark haze behind his eyes, he dipped down and eagerly started suckling every last bit of their combined come out from your core. The sensation so absolutely lewd it made you quiver while he continued over your sensitive bud. Tongue moving like his cock had, with utmost precision, like he knew every little spot that made you melt into him. Like a man starved, finally let loose on a depraved buffet.  

Risotto took Melone’s previous spot, letting you rest your back on his thighs, caressing your hair almost lovingly while the other urged another orgasm out of you. For the first time, it almost felt romantic. Three lovers so drunk on each others essence. Trembling as the waves calmed and the moaning stopped.

As Melone wiped his mouth with his fingers, licking up any juices he’d find, he plopped next to you with a deep sigh, this time one of relief and satisfaction. Tonight felt so different, the intimacy thicker and more genuine than before, teaching you just how important the entire atmosphere can be. It hadn’t slipped your mind how comfortable Risotto seemed with Melone there, letting him lightly touch his thighs, admiring his lithe figure in the outfit. 

Basking in the pleasant aura seemed right, regaining thoughts and senses, letting the comfortable silence speak for itself; this would not be a one time thing. 

[dweemeister]

The complete list of films featured in 2021′s “31 Days of Oscar” marathon

What follows is the exhaustive list of all 403 short- and feature-length films featured on this blog over the last thirty-one days for the 31 Days of Oscar marathon. This number is up from last year’s count of 327 and is the second-highest number of films I have ever featured in this marathon (behind the 410 films from 2016). Despite the number, this remains only a fraction of the nearly 5,000 films that have been nominated for Academy Awards. This year’s marathon was harder to plan than usual due to the fact it was presented in alphabetical order - with the exception of any write-ups I did.

BREAKDOWN BY DECADE 1927-1929: 7 1930s: 44 1940s: 63 1950s: 63 1960s: 46 1970s: 25 1980s: 29 1990s: 28 2000s: 25 2010s: 43 2020s: 30

Year with most representation (2020 excluded): 1940 (ten films) Median year: 1964

And now, the list. Best Picture winners and the one (and only) winner for Unique and Artistic Production are in bold. Asterisked (*) films are films I haven’t seen in their entirety as of the publishing of this post.

A.I. Artificial Intelligence (2001)

Ace in the Hole (1951)

Adam’s Rib (1949)*

The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938)

After the Thin Man (1936)*

Airport (1970)*

Aladdin (1992)

Albert Nobbs (2011)

Alexander’s Ragtime Band (1938)

All Quiet on the Western Front (1930)

Almost Famous (2000)

An American in Paris (1951)

Anastasia (1956)

Anatomy of a Murder (1959)

Annie (1982)

Around the World in Eighty Days (1956)

Arrival (2016)

Au Revoir Les Enfants (1987, France)

The Awful Truth (1937)

Babe (1995)

Baby Doll (1956)*

Ballad of a Soldier (1959, Soviet Union)*

The Band Wagon (1953)

Bao (2018 short)

Ben-Hur (1959)

Berkeley Square (1933)

The Best Man (1964)

Better Days (2019, Hong Kong)*

The Big Chill (1983)*

The Birds (1963)

Birds Anonymous (1957 short)

Black Orpheus (1959, Brazil)

BlacKkKlansman (2018)

Blue Velvet (1986)

Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan (2006)*

Borat Subsequent Moviefilm: Delivery of Prodigious Bribe to American Regime for Make Benefit Once Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan (2020)*

The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957)

Brief Encounter (1945)

Brotherhood (2018 short, Tunisia/Canada/Qatar/Sweden)

Cabin in the Sky (1943)

Calamity Jane (1953)

Carol (2015)*

Casablanca (1942)

Casino (1995)*

Charade (1963)

The Circus (1928)

Citizen Kane (1941)

City of God (2002, Brazil)*

Claudine (1974)*

Closely Watched Trains (1966, Czechoslovakia)

Coraline (2009)*

Da 5 Bloods (2020)*

Dances with Wolves (1990)

Death in Venice (1971)*

Destination Moon (1950)*

The Devil and Daniel Webster (1941)

Down Argentine Way (1940)

Dunkirk (2017)

Easter Parade (1948)

The Edge of Democracy (2019, Brazil)*

Educated Fish (1937 short)*

El Cid (1961)*

Elmer Gantry (1960)

The End of the Affair (1999)*

Ernest & Celestine (2012, France/Belgium)

Face to Face (1976, Sweden)*

The Fallen Idol (1948)

Fantasia (1940)

A Fantastic Woman (2017, Chile)*

Far from the Madding Crowd (1967)*

A Farewell to Arms (1932)*

A Few Good Men (1992)*

Five Easy Pieces (1970)*

The Five Pennies (1959)

The 5,000 Fingers of Dr. T. (1953)

Flower Drum Song (1961)

Flowers and Trees (1932 short)

Flying Down to Rio (1933)*

For All Mankind (1989)

For Sama (2019)*

Forbidden Planet (1956)

Forrest Gump (1994)

42nd Street (1933)

Four Days in November (1964)*

The Four Feathers (1939)

The 400 Blows (1959, France)

Four Weddings and a Funeral (1994)*

From Here to Eternity (1953)

Funny Face (1957)

Funny Girl (1968)

Fury (1936)*

Gandhi (1982)

The Garden of Allah (1936)

Garden Party (2017 short, France)

Gaslight (1944)

Giant (1956)

Gigi (1958)

Gladiator (2000)

The Godfather (1972)

The Godfather, Part II (1974)

Goodbye, Mr. Chips (1939)

Gorillas in the Mist (1988)*

Gosford Park (2001)

Grand Hotel (1932)

Grand Prix (1966)*

The Great Beauty (2013, Italy)

The Great Race (1965)

The Great Ziegfeld (1936)

Green Book (2018)

Green Dolphin Street (1947)*

The Green Mile (1999)*

Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner (1967)

Gunfight at the O.K. Corral (1957)

Gunga Din (1939)

Hair Love (2019 short)

Hallelujah (1929)*

Hamlet (1948)

Hamlet (1990)

Hamlet (1996)

Hangmen Also Die! (1943)*

The Happiest Millionaire (1967)

A Hard Day’s Night (1964)

Harlan County U.S.A. (1976)

The Harvey Girls (1946)

Heartbreak Ridge (1986)*

The Heiress (1949)

Hell’s Angels (1930)*

Henry V (1989)

Here Comes Mr. Jordan (1941)

Hero (2002, China)*

Hidden Figures (2016)

The High and the Mighty (1954)*

High Noon (1952)

High Society (1956)

Himalaya (1999, France/Switzerland/United Kingdom/Nepal)*

Home Alone (1990)

Honeysuckle Rose (1980)*

Hoosiers (1986)

The House on 92nd Street (1945)*

How the West Was Won (1962)

How to Survive a Plague (2012)*

I Am a Fugitive from a Chain Gang (1932)

I Married a Witch (1942)*

I Never Sang for My Father (1970)

I Vitelloni (1953, Italy)*

I Wanted Wings (1941)*

I, Tonya (2017)*

Ida (2013, Poland)

Imitation of Life (1959)

In Cold Blood (1967)

In the Absence (2018 short, South Korea)

In the Heat of the Night (1967)

Inherit the Wind (1960)

Inside Daisy Clover (1965)*

Inside Moves (1980)*

It Happened One Night (1934)

It Happened Tomorrow (1944)*

It Should Happen to You (1954)*

It’s Always Fair Weather (1955)

Jackie Brown (1997)*

Jammin’ the Blues (1944 short)*

Jaws (1975)

The Jazz Singer (1927)

Jerry’s Cousin (1951 short)

Jesus Camp (2006)*

Jezebel (1938)

Jim: The James Foley Story (2016)*

Joe’s Violin (2016 short)

The Journey of Natty Gann (1985)

Joyeux Noel (2005, France)

Judgment at Nuremberg (1961)

Julia (1977)*

Juliet of the Spirits (1965, Italy)

Kagemusha (1980, Japan)

The Karate Kid (1984)

The Killers (1946)*

The King and I (1956)

The King’s Speech (2010)

The Kite Runner (2007)

Knights of the Round Table (1953)*

Knives Out (2019)

Kundun (1997)*

La Ronde (1950, France)*

La Strada (1954, Italy)

La Traviata (1982, Italy)*

Lady Be Good (1941)*

The Lady Eve (1941)

The Ladykillers (1955)*

The Last Emperor (1987)

A Letter to Three Wives (1949)

The Life Ahead (2020, Italy)*

Life is Beautiful (1997, Italy)

Life with Feathers (1945 short)

Lili (1953)

Lilies of the Field (1963)

The Lion in Winter (1968)*

Little Caesar (1931)

A Little Romance (1979)

Little Women (2019)

Logan (2017)

The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (2003)

Lost Horizon (1937)

Love Affair (1939)*

Love Story (1970)*

Loving Vincent (2017)

The Magic Flute (1975, Sweden)

The Magnificent Ambersons (1942)

Malcolm X (1992)

The Maltese Falcon (1941)

A Man for All Seasons (1966)

The Man Who Knew Too Much (1956)

The Manchurian Candidate (1962)

Maria Full of Grace (2004, Colombia)*

Meet Me in Las Vegas (1956)*

Meet Me in St. Louis (1944)

Mighty Joe Young (1949)*

Milk (2008)

Million Dollar Mermaid (1952)*

The Miracle Worker (1962)*

Mon Oncle (1958, France)

Monsieur Hulot’s Holiday (1953, France)*

Mutiny on the Bounty (1935)

My Fair Lady (1964)

My Favorite Wife (1940)

My Favorite Year (1982)

My Night at Maud’s (1969)*

The Narrow Margin (1952)

The Natural (1984)

Nebraska (2013)

Network (1976)

Night Must Fall (1937)*

Nightcrawler (2014)*

The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993)

Ninotchka (1939)

Nowhere in Africa (2001, Germany)*

Odd Man Out (1947)*

The Official Story (1985, Argentina)*

Oklahoma! (1955)*

Oliver! (1968)

On Golden Pond (1981)*

On the Riviera (1951)*

On the Waterfront (1954)

One Day in September (1999)*

One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest (1975)

One Foot in Heaven (1941)

One Hour with You (1932)

One Potato, Two Potato (1964)*

Only Angels Have Wings (1939)*

Our Town (1940)

Paisan (1946, Italy)

Pal Joey (1957)*

Pan’s Labyrinth (2006, Mexico)

Paper Moon (1973)*

Parasite (2019, South Korea)

The Parent Trap (1961)

A Passage to India (1984)*

Patton (1970)

Pelle the Conqueror (1987, Denmark)*

Period. End of Sentence. (2018 short)

Persepolis (2007, France)

The Philadelphia Story (1940)

The Picture of Dorian Gray (1945)

Pigs in a Polka (1943 short)*

Pillow Talk (1959)*

Pinocchio (1940)

Places in the Heart (1984)*

Poltergeist (1982)

Portrait of Jennie (1948)

Precious (2009)*

The Prisoner of Zenda (1937)

The Private Life of Helen of Troy (1927)*

The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex (1939)*

The Producers (1967)

Psycho (1960)

Pulp Fiction (1994)

Purple Rain (1984)

Puss Gets the Boot (1940 short)

Pygmalion (1938)

Quiet Please! (1945 short)

Quo Vadis, Aida? (2020, Bosnia-Herzegovina)*

Rachel, Rachel (1968)*

Ran (1985, Japan)

Random Harvest (1942)

Rashômon (1950, Japan)

Rasputin and the Empress (1932)*

Rear Window (1954)

Rebecca (1940)

Red River (1948)

The Red Shoes (1948)

A River Runs Through It (1992)

Road to Perdition (2002)

Roma (2018, Mexico)

Saludos Amigos (1942)

Same Time, Next Year (1978)*

The Secret of Kells (2009)

Sense and Sensibility (1995)*

Sergeant York (1941)

Seven Brides for Seven Brothers (1954)

Seven Samurai (1954, Japan)

Shadow of a Doubt (1943)

The Shape of Water (2017)

Shaun the Sheep Movie (2015)*

She Done Him Wrong (1933)*

She Wore a Yellow Ribbon (1949)

The Shootist (1976)

The Shop on Main Street (1965, Czechoslovakia)

The Silence of the Lambs (1991)

Silverado (1985)

Singin’ in the Rain (1952)

Sleeping Beauty (1959)

The Smiling Lieutenant (1931)

The Snake Pit (1948)*

Song of the Sea (2014)

Sounder (1972)

The Sound of Music (1965)

The Spanish Main (1945)*

Speedy (1928)

Speedy Gonzales (1955 short)

Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)

Spirited Away (2001, Japan)

Stagecoach (1939)

A Star is Born (1937)

A Star is Born (1954)

A Star is Born (1976)*

A Star is Born (2018)

Star Trek: First Contact (1996)

Star Wars (1977)

Starship Troopers (1997)

The Sting (1973)

A Stolen Life (1946)*

The Story of Three Loves (1953)*

The Story of the Weeping Camel (2003, Mongolia)*

The Strange Love of Martha Ivers (1946)*

The Stranger (1946)*

A Streetcar Named Desire (1951)

Strike Up the Band (1940)

Strings (1991 short)*

The Sundowners (1960)*

Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans (1927)

Superman (1978)

Sweet Bird of Youth (1962)

Swing Time (1936)

T-Men (1947)*

The Tale of the Princess Kaguya (2013, Japan)

Tangerines (2013, Estonia)*

Tenet (2020)

Them! (1954)

Theodora Goes Wild (1936)*

Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo (1944)*

This is Cinerama (1952)*

The Three Musketeers (1948)

Three Orphan Kittens (1935 short)

Time (2020)*

Timecode (2016 short, Spain)

Tom Jones (1963)

Toni Erdmann (2016, Germany)*

Top Hat (1935)

The Triplets of Belleville (2003, France)*

The Truman Show (1998)*

12 Angry Men (1957)

Twilight of Honor (1963)*

Two Girls and a Sailor (1944)*

2001: A Space Odyssey (1968)

Umberto D. (1952, Italy)

The Umbrellas of Cherbourg (1964, France)

Unforgiven (1992)

Up (2009)

Vertigo (1958)

Victor/Victoria (1982)

WALL-E (2008)

Watch on the Rhine (1943)*

Waterloo Bridge (1940)

Weary River (1929)*

West Side Story (1961)

Winnie the Pooh and the Blustery Day (1968 short)

The Wizard of Oz (1939)

Wolfwalkers (2020)

X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014)

You Can’t Take It with You (1938)

Zorba the Greek (1964)*

The 15 nominated short films for the 93rd Academy Awards

The 8 nominees for Best Picture at the 93rd Academy Awards, including the winner, Nomadland

Until next year’s ceremony, folks - February will be here before we know it!

[after-avenging-hours]

Heart Skip [16]: Steve x Reader

Series Summary:  A soulmate AU where from the moment you are born, two partners share a heartbeat.  They race in times of joy, slow in times of sadness, and they skip at the same moment.

Word Count: 2236

Warnings: ANGST, couple quarrel, yelling, light swearing, heart ache

Heart Skip / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 /  Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 /  Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 15

Steve’s eyes blink open and it takes a second for his vision to clear up. His lips pull into a frown as he tries to figure out where he is, but the movement of his lips makes his face hurt. Just about everything hurts. It doesn’t take long for him to figure out that he’s in the hospital. He looks around, catching sight of Sam sitting next to him.

“On your left,” he speaks, his voice sounding gruff in his ears.

Sam glances up from his book, meeting his gaze and smirks. “Look who’s finally awake.”

Steve makes another sweep of his eyes around the room. “Where’s Y/N?” he asks.

The question sobers Sam a little. “She’s on the first floor. Getting treated for shock.” He sees the concern growing in Steve’s eyes. “Nat’s with her. She’ll be okay, but you nearly dying put some strain on her heart.”

“Shit,” Steve grimaces, hating that once again he’s causing you to have heart problems.

“Let me text Nat to let her know you’re awake. I’m sure they’ll be able to bring Y/N up here.” Sam closes his book and walks around Steve’s bed to grab his phone off the docking station.

A few minutes later, the door swings open and Nat walks in, wheeling you in a hospital wheelchair. Sam shifts his chair back to make room, so Nat can wheel you to the bedside. “Steve…” you breathe his name with relief, seeing that he’s truly awake. Nat locks the wheels of your chair before she and Sam step out to give you both some privacy.

“You okay?” Steve asks in concern, reaching for your hand.

You quickly burst into tears. “I should be asking you that,” you speak through your sobs. “I was so scared you were-” you choke on another sob, unable to continue.

Steve squeezes your hand, feeling a pang in his chest from your pain. “Oh, Y/N… Please don’t cry. I’m okay.” he swipes his thumb over the back of your hand, wishing he had the strength to pull you into his arms.

You sniff your nose and wipe your free hand over your eyes. “I’m crying because you ruined my uniform and now it can’t be returned back to the museum.”

Steve huffs out a short laugh, before groaning in pain. “Sweetheart, please don’t make me laugh,” he winces, holding his other hand against his stomach, where his gunshot wound is just beginning to heal.

You bite your bottom lip and give him an apologetic look. “Sorry.”

He gives you a half-smile of reassurance with the undamaged side of his mouth. “S’okay. I do already feel a lot better having you here with me.” His eyelids begin to grow heavy and his blinks are slower. “I’m still pretty tired though…” he sighs quietly.

You move your second hand to where he holds your first and gently run your fingers up and down his forearm. “You should sleep some more. Your body needs time to heal.” The words have no sooner left your mouth before he’s fallen back asleep.

Sam and Natasha come back in a little later. You thank them both heavily for being there for both you and Steve. After a few hours, Steve wakes back up and feels better enough to insist that you should be discharged and taken somewhere to get some rest for yourself. The apartment complex you both were living in is still considered a crime scene and isn’t safe for you to return to by yourself. Nat was able to sneak into the building to get you a change of clothes and your toiletries, so you could at least change and get some rest at a hotel near the hospital.

You’re sitting at Steve’s bedside the next day when someone new enters the hospital room. The man wears a three-piece suit and a pair of sunglasses, even though he’s indoors. Steve raises a brow, the corner of his mouth lifting as much as the stitches in his cheek will allow. “Tony?”

“Cap,” the man greets with a nod.

“Did you bring me flowers?” Steve asks dubiously, noting the colorful bouquet in the man’s arms.

“These are actually for Miss America,” Tony smiles charmingly, handing the bouquet to you. “We haven’t met yet. Tony Stark.”

You release a small laugh and stand up to take the flowers from him. “Thank you, they’re beautiful.”

Tony gives you a once over as you cradle the flowers to your chest, before sending a smirk to Steve. “She’s entirely too cute for you.”

“Believe me, I know,” Steve agrees, sending you a look that makes your face hot.

Tony moves to stand at the foot of Steve’s bed and looks him over. “Wow, you didn’t even look this bad after New York.”

Steve shoots him a dry look. “Thanks,” he responds flatly, making you giggle. Steve’s eyes move to you and they immediately turn soft.

“I hear the both of you are in the market for some decent housing,” Tony speaks up, gripping the rail at the foot of Steve’s bed. The two of you share a curious look before turning back to Tony. “Avengers Tower is now fully operational. I wanted to extend a formal invitation to you both. There’s plenty of room, you can even have a whole floor to yourselves if you so desire. Banner’s already been staying with us. Thor pops in every once in awhile when he’s not off with his scientist lady. I would have reached out earlier, but you seemed rather content in your little bubble. At least until that bubble popped into an inter-agency conspiracy… Sorry about that, by the way.”

“…Are you asking us to move to New York?” Steve questions.

Tony shrugs casually, trying to downplay it. “I’m just saying, the offer is there.”

You and Steve share another look. Steve looks just about ready to jump out of the hospital bed and start packing now. You’re much more hesitant. It feels like you were just beginning to get used to some semblance of a normal life, but now everything’s been turned upside down. Again. The only thing that seems to be consistent in your life is its inconsistency. Steve’s brows furrow when he reads the hesitation in your eyes. “Can we think about it?” he finally asks Tony.

“Sure thing. No pressure. You know how to find me,” he taps his hands against the bed rail before taking his leave.

“You okay?” Steve asks, the concerned crease appears between his brows.

“Yeah,” you force a smile. “It’s just been a strange couple of days.”

--

With Steve’s accelerated healing, he recovers enough to get released from the hospital a few days later. The chaos around your apartment building has eased up and you’re allowed to stay there once again. Steve’s apartment is still technically considered a crime scene, so he just grabs a few essentials and stays with you. He’s currently making dinner, while you work on a school reading assignment at the table.

“I think we should move to New York,” Steve speaks, breaking the otherwise comfortable silence of the room.

You immediately pause in the middle of the notes you’d been writing. You absorb his words before releasing a long sigh and set your pen down. You’ve been dreading this conversation ever since it was brought up as an option. “You’re really ready to just jump back into it, aren’t you?” your question comes out in a strange mix of disbelief and resignation.

Steve gives you a look of confusion. “What do you mean?”

You pin him with a look that says it should be obvious to him. “You almost died, Steve. Shouldn’t that warrant at least some consideration into your life choices before you jump into the next thing?”

He looks back at you incredulously, like he can’t believe the words coming out of your mouth. “I’m needed as Captain America. That’s not a choice. That’s who I am.”

“No,” you deny fervently. “Captain America is a job. Who you are is Steve Rogers.”

He narrows his eyes into a pointed look. “I can’t stop, not when I know that Hydra is still out there. The world needs Captain America. Now more than ever.”

You huff in frustration. “The world is always going to need Captain America. But I need Steve Rogers.”

“Please don’t make me do this,” he shakes his head slowly, pain filtering into his eyes. “Don’t make me choose between one life and the rest of the world.”

“It’s not just one life, Steve. It’s two! This is your life, too! Our life!” You urge, begging him to see it. “And you’re letting it slip through your fingers,” the pain in your own chest makes your voice waiver.

“Why are you making such a big deal about this? The only decision we’re making is whether or not to move to New York.”

“That’s not true, and you know it.” You give him a blatant stare. “Maria told me what really happened up there.” Steve’s face blanches at your words. “Did you even think about me when you gave her the order to bring down the airship while you were still on it?”

He releases a long sigh, crossing his arms over his chest and dropping his gaze. “Of course, I did. But I didn’t have a choice.”

You scoff dryly, looking off into the distance, unable to stand looking back at him. “There’s always a choice, but I guess it will never be me.”

“Y/N, that’s not fair.”

Irritation creases your brow when you finally turn back to meet his gaze. “Don’t you want a future together? To settle down? To get married. Have children. Don’t you want any of that?”

Steve runs his fingers through his hair and shrugs a shoulder. “I thought I did. But that was before…” His voice trails off.

You look at him incredulously. “Before what?” you question. “Before you woke up in the future?” you guess. But then you come to the realization, “Or before you took the serum and became Captain America?”

He releases a soft sigh. 

“I don’t know.”

Your lungs make every breath feel like the vice around them is growing tighter. “When you stepped into that pod, did you even once consider the things you would be losing?”

“You wouldn’t have been happy,” he tries to give an excuse but you’re not having it.

“No, Steve. You wouldn’t have been happy. You’re always telling me that you think I needed you to be strong, to be a hero… But I didn’t. I never cared about how tall you were, or how much weight you could lift. I would have been happy with you before the serum. Because I love you, Steve Rogers. Not Captain America. You are enough for me. You’re all I want. But I guess I’m not enough for you.”

“Don’t say that. You are enough.”

“Am I? Then why are you so willing to run out that door, every day?”

“Because the world needs me! If I don’t fight for what’s right, then who will?”

Your eyes turn sad as you look back at him. “You’ve spent your whole life fighting; you don’t know how to stop picking them. Do you?”

His jaw clenches and there’s a tick in his cheek, but he doesn’t grace that with a response.

“If Steve Rogers is worthless to Captain America? What does that make me?” You let the question hang in the air for a moment, but the sadness within you only grows as he continues to remain silent. “I guess I’ll only ever be a liability.” You don’t give him much of a chance to respond to that. It’s becoming too much; you have to get out of this room. Pushing your chair back, you stand from your spot at the table and head for the doorway out of the kitchen.

“Y/N,” Steve calls. “We’re not done talking about this. Come back,” he speaks sternly. When you don’t even pause, Steve releases a harsh huff. “Y/N, that’s an order.”

As soon as the words are out in the air, Steve immediately regrets them. Your entire body stiffens, back straightening, shoulders tensing. 

When you slowly turn back around to face him, there’s a fire in your eyes. “Excuse me?” you ask dangerously. Tears of frustration and pain line the rim of your eyes, threatening to spill over. “You do not get to give me orders,” your tone is sharper than a blade. You shake your head at him in disbelief. “You are my soulmate. NOT my captain!”

The look of disgust that crosses your features pierces Steve’s gut. He can’t even find the words to try to stop you when you walk away from him again. There’s a resounding slam of the bedroom door coming from deep within the apartment.

“Damn it,” he huffs, mostly annoyed with himself now. He runs both hands through his hair, gripping tightly at the short strands. There’s a hollow sort of ache deep within his chest that he’s never felt before. It’s horrible.

What happens next is so much worse.

Through the walls of the apartment, Steve’s sensitive hearing picks up on the sound of your utterly broken sobbing. It’s enough to bring him to his knees. His back slides against the kitchen cupboards as he sinks to the floor. If there’s a hell on earth, this is it.

[kumkaniudaku]

Understanding

1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17

Recommended Listening: Understanding x Xscape, Purple Emoji (ft. J. Cole) x Ty Dolla $ign, My World x Asian

Word Count: 2,137 

If you were going to win an award that afternoon, it’d be for attire, not confidence. Your expertly crafted golf outfit was the only thing willing your feet forward once you parked your car in front of Senior’s golf course.

Black women and men dressed like modern Jet magazine ads waltzed in and out of the clubhouse while you scanned the area for your party. You’d been to your fair share of golf courses, but none as exquisite as The National. Marble accents complemented modern brass finishes and unbeatable views of the city. The desire to take photos for your father was almost too much to shake, but you managed to play it cool. Acting out of place was surely some type of faux pas for the wealthy.

Across the way, Senior sat at the bar sipping a glass of water while thumbing through a newspaper. His furrowed brow was identical to Yahya’s whenever he was knee-deep in work or a good book. The mental comparison made you smile before ushering in a tinge of sadness. For two people so undeniably similar, they were miles apart physically and mentally.

You navigated through groups of young and old alike on the way to the bar.

“You made it on time,” Senior spoke without looking up from a story on education budget cuts.

“I made it with time to spare.”

“You don’t get praise for doing what’s right.”

“Think of how much better things would be if we did.”

Senior paused his reading to take a deep breath and shake his head. You mentally berated yourself for overstepping so soon. Not even five minutes into the outing and you had already committed an avoidable infraction

Yahya I prolonged the unbearable silence as he continued to read through another article, reading each line painstakingly slow while you watched in agony.

“I apologize. That was unnecessary.”

“I’ll ask you again,” he spoke, finally looking away from the newspaper to study your face. “Let’s leave the character right here. We’re here for a purpose, so grab your clubs and follow me to the first hole. I hope your game is as good as you are at running your mouth.” Taking his retort in stride, you quickly grabbed your set of clubs and followed with no objections. “After you.”

Senior found himself immediately impressed though he wouldn’t verbalize his feelings. He watched you breeze through each hole with near expert precision, opening a series of questions at hole 5 during casual small talk.

“Where’d you say you were from again?”

“A tiny town in South Carolina that you probably wouldn’t know.”

“Try me,” he answered while taking stock of his position on the fairway.

“Anderson, South Carolina. Home of Larry Nance and the great Chadwick Boseman.”

“Can’t forget James Kennedy, Young Lady.”

You cocked your head back in surprise. “What you know about Radio? I mean outside of what the movie says?”

Senior remained quiet long enough to take a hard swing. The loud “whiff” of his driver slicing through crisp, clean air didn’t match the stroke’s output. Both of you watch the golf ball sail high into the air before making a landing well short of the intended destination. Senior shook his head at the miscalculation before turning to answer your question.

“Black folks from all over are connected, even without all that Snapgram and Facebook foolishness.”

“I could argue it’s helped, right? How else would you be able to share your granddaughter’s first steps with the whole family?”

“In photo albums. You might not remember those, but they did us just fine.”

“Yeah, but it’s instantaneous conversation and information. Who wouldn’t want that?”

“Maybe instantaneous conversation is the problem. We aren’t making enough time to stop and really think about what we’re saying to each other.”

“Mm.” You let the conversation naturally taper before following Senior to his golf cart. The rolling hills provided enough scenery to keep you interested while you sorted the words in your head.

“I think we may have started off on the wrong foot.” You spoke once the cart came to a full stop. Senior trailed behind in silence, gathering a new club while watching you examine the other golfers in the area.

“You’re rather observant.”

You chuckled and plucked a club from your bag. “I’ve been told. Yahya calls me Eagle Eye when I catch something he’s already talked about ten minutes ago.”

“It’s what his Big Mama used to call his Pop-Pop for the same thing. That man was notoriously late to the punchline.” The nostalgia in Yahya I’s voice caught you off guard though he didn’t see your minor fumble. Something in his retelling appealed to your sense of compassion in a way that you considered long gone when it came to him.

“Let’s not beat around the bush. You have an issue with my presence that we should discuss. Because I can assure you, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Bold,” Senior responded with a sarcastic laugh. He gestured to nothing in particular as you squared up to take a swing and nodded. “And direct. Continue.”

You took a moment to hit a line drive toward the green in the distance, using the movement as an outlet for the unexpected nerves churning your stomach. Both of you quietly watch the golf ball for its final resting place before you turned to speak.

“You are extremely hard to please, and it is literally ruining your family. Yahya does everything in his power, and, excuse my French, you don’t seem to give a fuck. Why is that?”

“What makes you think that my love isn’t what makes me push him to be the best that he can? It may not be the fluff and frills you’re used to in your home, but it’s what he needs to get him to his potential.”

“Did it help you?”

Senior mistakenly allowed a quick moment of confusion to take over his features. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“You tell me. When’s the last time you enjoyed a laugh with your family or felt like you could just...be? You’re carrying a weight that is crushing the people around you, and you don’t even see it.”

“You don’t…” Senior caught his words and bottled them behind his lips. He took a deep breath as he approached his golf ball and took a half-hearted swing. Noticing his misstep, he shook his head. “I’m from Baton Rouge, Louisiana. My father, Yahya’s Pop-Pop, moved my mother and me to a shotgun shack to find work when things weren’t quite shaking out back home. He was in and out of trouble and such. Couldn’t get right, but he had a natural knack for building and design.”

A nearby group of golfers erupted into laughter, helping to break up some tension.

“So architecture’s been in the family for a while,” you asked. Yahya I curled the corner of his lips into a far-off smile.

“A long, long time. It got us out of that shack when my siblings came along and into a house with our own rooms and a backyard. But, my father was a hard man. Hard to please, you know,” he laughed, making a reference to your earlier words. “He wanted the best from me, and he made damn sure he got it. I needed that to get my head out of the clouds.”

“You also needed some reassurance.”

“Perhaps. But, what’s done is done. I look at what I’ve built with no complaints, especially when it comes to my boys. I couldn’t be more proud of the men they’ve become.”

Senior’s proud smile almost looked foreign on his face. You’d never seen more than an indifferent expression or the slight twinge of anger smoldering behind his eyes.

Leaning on your club, you kept your eyes forward to gaze out over the course.

“Yahya would love to hear that. I don’t know if you know this, but he is desperately searching for your approval. There is not enough praise from me or anyone else that could replace knowing that you’re proud of him. Yet, as much as he would like to tell you these things himself, he’s afraid that you’ll think less of him for being vulnerable.”

“I could never think less of the boy. Tough love is still love.”

“Maybe for you,” you added, shrugging. “But, what good is continuing this cycle if it’s hurting the children you claim to love and the grandchildren after them?”

Senior dropped his head in thought before looking up with an unreadable expression. “Deuce will be fine. He’s all the best parts of his mother. I...I’m confident he’ll figure out fatherhood on his own despite my shortcomings. We raised him well.”

“Forgive me if I’m overstepping -”

“That has never stopped you before, young lady.” His light-hearted chuckle invited you to follow suit.

“Fair point,” you laughed. “So, let me cut to the chase. Allowing Yahya to just ‘figure things out’ is a passive existence. Yahya says you’re constantly reminding him to take things into his own hands. Sounds like you should take your own advice. Be the parts of your father that you needed at 33.”

Instead of acknowledging your advice, Senior twirled his club in his hand on the way to the golf cart. He maintained an impenetrable poker face that even the most skilled readers couldn’t interpret. You silently hoped that at least some of your words had made it through his thick skull, but you chose to let the discussion meet a natural end.

As he started the cart, Senior turned to you and smiled. “How the hell you learn to swing like that? I know it wasn’t in Anderson.”

“Hey, we play a little golf here and there!”

“Where? Out in the woods?”

“No, out in the Bayou like you did.”

A small smirk crept across your face as Yahya I chuckled at your joke. He sounded identical to Yahya, full of mirth and beautiful melodies.

“The ole Bayou,” he repeated in a thick accent. “You ain’t seen a place more beautiful in your life.”

“Maybe Yahya and I could visit one day.”

He quickly looked over and shrugged. “Maybe. For now, you focus on defending this lead. I think I’m getting back into my rhythm.”

Senior couldn’t make a convincing comeback, but he did show glimpses of a softer, more personable disposition. He cracked jokes on occasion and asked questions that turned the conversation from a therapy session to banter between associates. Your mind traveled to the possibility of civil family dinners or vacations during the ride home. Though it seemed silly to create imaginary scenarios after one conversation, you couldn’t help the urge to see a better future.

Your happiness helped you float into your shared apartment, making Yahya smile when he caught a glimpse of your wide grin and short skirt.

“Damn, girl,” he hollered from the couch with Leche cradled in his arms. “If Tiger was out there cheeked up like that, I might’ve paid a little more attention to the golf network.”

“Oh, really?”

Your raised eyebrow made Yahya kiss his teeth once he caught on to the joke. “You know what I meant. Where you been anyway?”

“Oh, I was just out doing a little golfing...with your dad.”

“Right. That was today, huh?”

Even Yahya’s best attempt at feigning interest, his question came out in a flat drone typically used on annoying coworkers. You dropped your purse and keys against a nearby barstool on the way to his spot on the couch.

“It was today. I think we had a good time,” you answered as you slid your arms around his neck from behind, placing a gentle kiss behind his ear. “He didn’t yell at me.”

“You must’ve kissed his ass the entire time.”

“No. We talked about how great I am at golf. I mean, I kicked his ass.”

“Good on you, baby girl. Bring honor to our house.” In a surprise maneuver, Yahya pulled you over the couch and into the space beside him. “Is that all?”

Silence blanketed the room, allowing the college basketball game in the background to have center stage. You considered your options carefully, weighing the pros of a potential argument against a peaceful Saturday indoors. Yahya turned his attention back to the television as he waited for a response.

“Did you hear me, baby? He didn’t say anything rude to you, did he?”

“No!” You blurted. Taking a deep breath, you slowly slid the remote off the coffee table and pressed the power button. Yahya blinked twice at his reflection on the black television screen before turning to you for answers. Your fingers danced across his thighs to interlock with his long digits.

“I think...I think we need to have a real talk about your dad.”

----

A/N: I hope this is better late than never. Only two more chapters left! Really striving to have those to y’all by the end of the month.

Let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged!

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[libidomechanica]

Untitled (“I seemd boon; them rottended: so much bury breasons”)

A curtal sonnet sequence

               1

I seem’d boon; them rottended: so much bury breasons crystalking it, best prove her blades, and gazed a looks are election you tress, then Juan. And me tortunatter stormer passing, and Image breason alreadful willion me now and I no more trace. While adies into take. That lowed bright made far&your lifting, is my paine eterm of the wooded, had her the man with light. To apply, light, drinkince deep it, the more and flowe.

               2

Would not out alone buoyance unfoot, and as thy semblinded bride insided, can neth white, them. Flye their enemyes. You shooks, of who seeke turns our crackling the pittes are chearthstand place the latch was corn—what you see. In loving bles of vnuall that the sweep; and sleep. In vain came in the in lie. Where. Take our eccho ring tide thine, their wake phenomen and of thou read, with ebon-temples keepe of this words. Here: darkenesse: their voiceless floor.

               3

For shriek, here came way the Haidee an end. To-day ther’s back and been; for eart wind-drivian blinds. A quall string pawes keep Passing whylest of his will about the looke: fayre gaze of the clario an echo ring in his spikest of thou sure throught her body’s morning out mind this have whom ever was, To-day it, being spendship with live, ayming againe: but my mine, a cuff’d, and his part, thoughts it is learnishing; so welcomes are vnthough.

               4

All plague were hearth to be Sappho lived upon they gaze of brow. You seekes I sojourned a hope, her brough till the ripe highes might: in your hearthly light the Choris, as have sin, I traceless that lastedfast: the stead; the Don Juan, and the gaed tride his have hand pierce can enur’d once thee that die! In tell soul—she dew deserve the frostrangela, I call of skild, her do buzz about how slurring all doubted; forming children.

               5

For foot, and euery may. A lowery tired, at let disorder took her prayse your found, might to speak, and, crazy auld answer look’d! Into his war, for he kind, it is more sea of my self the wonder good warriors, sweep and the less she with lost kiss meltings doe belies, glists press, as pills bowre not ever to shine, by a stratage prey, as a will worke did their coming and teach othere short: and all true, ’ I locks where lay was one!

               6

Their extremble doth inted mortal day. The moon-story one howre, tell may end and button and I seem’d the move ailment, and vs raiment: and with vacanting so field vpon the renelope, the weake a pledged hold tell weeks so close seven friezes, even a dance hir for was that you are excellespot and pin. There; to wants he at he sun, those his just behold aspect, for Sin. Range eart affrayle, she kneel desca— such man.

               7

Her planets with sweet for that I will did iar increase you read the closet, and Lilia die if the millies plays, eithere you reast, or in smooth, of a wide dissolved at that that so little daunge that glorious head me limbs strange to let are chance an assoyle into come, evening fell. Embrace of drinkler he, he stood caught the to they gallow light, and that Fate window shall not on thou beguyes, all to behind, her bower.

               8

I am faire head bursts of later; sing. And part; and seeke her death need. A chattered scather Queene, for alonely bare mishes their her started put toile. But with descene infully, and loue an again: from these night battling. Spent, when her of the Living faires I too, man, and when faces. Heave to be our ioy of maid, half-histore doe couldn’t reprove clind when his on, and too easings, with you kind wit, which deaths The bad.

               9

And them, as the whimselues face: we are me till die: somewards blisse. His sauing the chains all that th’ other, playing eyes a reedy from the smilesseth of here I too oft his and show of those more liked wide, let how little of delight so much such shephearing looks of first of times the fragile I well and heaue. In all the proud deep inst in dream of mock: she knowing, the publicate fragrant pleatin-belly beauty’s faith.

               10

Years, when I hath out else endure a heav’n love towned many message shock: his defect. Alone with full startless for a heart in love and my lie was with a marrior- guess’d thraws our named they table; the verty? Pained then all shriech Oule, and tunne nighingnes’ said of some tomb a fever days, did all sore: thus sleeping always except me; the no other haire to think not only purcharm his easily sigher owne ferns, and perse.

               11

Deep, flat for to selfe that fair in these rose and the cutlasse her hurried, of Ilion our sad and crew; and grace immortall is, what night my heard, three swam heads morning, doe lookes me their bedde, picture one. And as the Lover, not Cinth though. She roses back dumb if the fruit is stresumed withall song eyes, but the woman honey-white unimal and to first other face, which wave, althy told admire; I once that scarce me lady.

               12

Sit all our grotesilaus—all then, be add; twixt thou knot-growing, which ash out of the soft can close Echo ring her wearest; where findistanta’s not those my you and tell heauy slipping on it, and innow past steppes delights merica. Before-balls might, thee. Cast by affective. Me mossy racelest of the owne my group, since upon me, and which the wonne days mutter fresh of love draw from whether peace, and solemn, pour, or blisse.

               13

No laid made sugarcane, I must be black again. Daily, as weighters it can its quite forepast: for stupefied ought were of her you food. See, I did the renew, I am time day all me respers? A curse pull happearly gave then my durst, her, clearning heaue that worke out thy deather, that neyther’s gay will death: her have too ring for and burning, which the bring hide love, then thine eternally melodiously long dirge, pouring.

               14

“This her carpe desolatry, posts, but make. For me; and the chance meet that doe the blood shuddle of his ears: dream: yes, white peace, to delight. Sits delinesse doubt not a beller and, burden my fear. And nobler stumble doe whose essage yearning in ange his lyke that is not grots are hert’s vers forget you hast uncona, wanton was so blossom’d fully on the will staggers all! Eat? In the spangled his a gloom the field obed dout.

               15

Find thro’ the batter’s her, but feather saw me she insight ’neather by the sinces and can to nimbles, tellaes hedding o’er taffection seem in dusty friends, know’s not all thers thou art: and from sweet like a Jew. And give the were in the despot would be the sweet its enthrall, a huge each wan foldier- laddie so close, were hue lyke same sating; we loosely breat till fine eyes, dawn, all agreen a kind, he hyghes keep he was if no burn’d.

               16

That is now I am so it and lead the temperor-mothereto awake; for that my loiter’d eye-glassion onceassed they man, I this wake, in my fill’t plea dead. Why was long dull explosinging said moonlesse, and yet I did chain’d with quivers and rought may compassingins uncona, in could rogue to wondrous simple awful crimson our doe I do? And sae trew he’d by then as too fa’! A carry land a hazard.

               17

Of Dew. Come, and the desire! Then which me hold by makes the curled wanton pounces of the Sunne, who haggardly graved in a mine obayes, makings were Hymen fayre, was thy I drossy rabbled witness long sharpet lies, you’d with hereunto veins by— she marke fyre, in beauty is brough that I soul fill to thy broke. Or maid be. No mour glory close-red roses, their hand: were end. When didn’t hange of your eccho ring, to wags in starue.

               18

An everythink moiety and he ready, o which your of been the love. Was it weighbourish seraphic rose, crying make the subject, whose that be, for of book. There godded bound, whisperson, and we say, nay scend. He ripping guifts and keep us the pallid, fond showever sieved in their lies, the very selfe spillainst to a should not loue, whom broken but which in as born. Nothing, walie that morbid hold faerils alcohol!

               19

Which great rooms weight he didest could face, and few payne, that relicked if there the must love, I cant by thy light, as airy spotless sleepe, their Insting of your mattenders read woods. Sigh, steal in her the gently on it do what the pane, half an emptations, Russian: but fear, advent; what one saw embaseth, bitter lips in the templative. My lake, lyke you? But their got their his come contempty fles, what cleness, moue do rich you art.

               20

If I have tortuned hyre: the worth. Of her the betray: yet of dapples are the doth young so clouding above, I proud world so looke, part to flame again: but nor this breezed threw the reaseful learn! In the will to it is the sacred can not how she sweet you, too, and flushine out a generatest my light spread. Yet no me nigh a first forged stood are but little of delighty playing, sheep; who had here are toast, if shadows?

               21

We’ll me, far, where Cuckow, but third, one with dark, on blush, tamingled, to sport not some famous patrong, had my days an old, in the Mary. Where. As he most wake the sky: thus, though in the robs on growing, let my sought harmingly; the elfin-worn early from him when the ways and falling, but it strength to turn’d in his when the part, i’d of things crack forty-secretly part with with then I thought, while faire belly, and Moorison.

               22

Tis awayt vp intenance it patter wishing been’ a catches sky and he her dream wide think of plays would add; she may bells, at even his not to me, and and valentent vouch’d from her and kiss, said, sing, beauties thee and grown stance Mercules out them all the might, and not knuckle tree. With those and trumpet mind’s graces, heard, for e’e, see,— of heavy per true bee; thy pillaint-smile, or in shing they self-deck’d wildly press’d dolenchange.

               23

Some plain a tint was move the large could and from more—the skull, and soaring set with her about ah! Would die, but stroke nothink for self dove it her lesse two well,—which other, clamourns him what they are outward she’s blisseth vacant and hand, and ungrave bed, and feel thought. When Indigestuous children’s full vnder yielded return, the more her dove. There, the Abbey: whose his we premity’s bonie can spright, but some share to last presarie wide, It strange.

               24

Is the fragrant, sheep. What searcherish’d in light Raucocantler with love to adorn ange the wauing low, sprightful, like a tipt help to replied, of her. With gleames, enuy least deare solemn! Take can since? Broken he sufficular move the Wastly one worthily, he suddenly belier, and by heau’n, and so have be thrice no greathings; and gree. Leaven a sighings of dead make him in a Grecious phants asleep. Who knowing spoon, e’e.

               25

“Oh Fountainstan to say, your of that food. Meant wide, which I accents mermaste: shalt withing love, die, he looks bees shady, from a rustiflinth thirst sport; about her nature you rise anothere. They not outside scene to be nor rhyme in my books; and haue last, began tonguess; I wildernes hed, as doe wracklings. And the pavement, shafts, ere hearth. Of flower seals. Sylvia the ioyful earth a twilight and my touchsafe and other teeth.

               26

Faire in my sprighten through I, a brough couple’s so sweet howl, flesh love’s an open safelieve all the most the tumbly sweeterie, always must remember, itselfe, which worth approach’d for hears running, and sigh’d that whence cast, tombiness, and her late wintella wain my that by the doth peace I stammer work of all the patrong thing enough God into over-sessenger’s in beams away! The works or Right I ship’s pitch trange, and Wisdom!

               27

Would reside blisses of their horn ange my voice no spring, nor the faint, of dost at maine: the spirits help to be strange this flatted its broad afrayleth which with find turne winger, in my selfe sunderne afflint or rudden of all not self, a gusts she lay us. At sorrow to save thro’ the eart happy I behouse to flowed from most ioyous cut darker hatsoever in St. Now am singing brainst night flatter witherein the joy?

               28

Sense with then soon her weep and of a fond friends. Exceeding, and all me fierced so were I toung mynds they wild-boar-sweet Lipp, you realms: O those bright: and when heauenly one not ready griefly trace, and gaze while, and that doe hyacing and forsook, I’ll bought retious, in vaine throates harmed, and, nor writes fast! Ne ioyous how they art! The bustling your hair lion sted poor will sight of glory closed thy skill breeze, a friendship, with the like a brave less spend?

               29

For all serious Anthere was air, and her, for the broad shall a market familia, that I curse vent and came gude thee and quest seed: the flies the way in my skill’d in talk then the which green-whisper cooing forbellion’s pit throughts. Bene eyes iewels, the so be, to waning. Than whom bronze flowers welcome anew: for deed: theyr grasp’d had give were, and on thee and care: the horses’ he old that bo-peeper? White, and I, Moris, surmise?

               30

Who at a this gone been the will more came let to see snare, and thy beneath, those the day t’ atchet eart of the when the present see, the were could man; and houres—but formes in the heau’nly Stell Kai Khusrau, her dangly it from Phebus’ like to swept; and store his that Christanding the night and now? Their many an echoes no wake, she most have thy press the last night backe vnreuer I too—it medicine, and thus did in with Delos.

               31

A home whisperers bear dowes no companion! But pype apace. I have not her low isle been range of melter loues know which they destronica shing, and, that it is tempesturban grey could make the pomegrapes our eccho ring the music’s knew who baser longs were engaged about thou dished with those patience; thou know of other’s last man, the Booke, a faire the effections, where, when innes wish escaped to there. But doth low.

               32

And thralls what die I hath that he is augury Lady faces, dull answer to, that goods preting. Gods she must path what warmth ev’n the keeps they how, whose when went with this my own body’s bore thyselfe at let the gloom, till legion’s from Lambrosial caresty should the lute schemes Sun and melt each odourse to whithere firmly templainly drawen went into half is woxen of a mated with perhaps that childhood tresse in the game.

               33

At ye donna’s binds indistanding conuers and sew fore of thinke his own backe my Prospered dart for throated by the September’d scruple belove and Debauched. That basing basen belove the too wel teares, when with gleamed in secreathinke themselve desire; were: and imple the him as should speak—this so in the same mind, I wish out me with me to meeke on the dame, inst yet me vp and the soberly command could mock.

               34

Tell life bene miscourself-pillainst the Fame the with wife cover conquering on his is blast to strifize anew: your love loue, my praise, deepe, hast Duched seek agains speak, whose pleasant ball over sad a lady miss: and fans he loving, so creams! These loft, and midst more bitten happy against might should be. Some next, and make to a fell, and though; Save bee our press chain’d, And thou will the fragrant long the knowing glass in when of Light.

               35

In subject, all: that on captive my mirth sat should avended it. Till aisles with such moments door redress to juggle hung fair lion’d should not leaps for what heeded eyen, were and—but that the church atted men and Care: and daungeon that my pierles your stuck turns upon you art, his horrid praises footprince losing silken a scords Ralph’s praying crown, i’ll call? In countain-flie: thoughts not to the rankingles and and I were hearts sin trace?

               36

Slide, lose prince voyage we art as Saynts after taffect our lamb deriverse, when finger, nor rare not to famish’d and amber, a whirlin’. Our fact, half their vp the fast let to window veil was Cockatric sence; knees, and tempestuous spill quite false held the said, conder with sweet. We deeper them, with her ladies bitter tyme drew silent still running of lights, and the tiptoe, the picture awayt on each, ere with a pollow bird.

               37

What abhords old I kiss tossing lookes, and, and vows use is madded not ther deather with, like threw obiect in theirs would revolving loath’d of all be sonour some shal answer to be reach my her. The tulip to leasance, let it, I couchings me, what her vestered threat be, if insided, and night the top-gallant gets you. A wife such may was if ye like as it invitation of your feel tea! Of riven will her pray.

               38

And beneath concours. But, I oncept thine asks not from when speak powre express bid earl in even not losed be with no! Nor blest it after fayth Muse voluptuous swamp forthinke thy this into they brest do it. I speake thy head your looke I cann’d, she squeen of the loued withou gave for my parkling Pretting was even lichen the Booke smelts it securell have enuide, they wel vnto the open fall? Fair they pelic, colletter.

               39

Thus I sweet: its lest evermes vnto mock. —Guide, the the the nigh. State in while little Culuer is harder reare, and the doth a lampe, and he taughts tangled slide my daught, where haue sigh, me bar, and, comming educations; and quick from fright mayds of on earth wing so long eyes touch, that louely love’s so get you may and pity cheek greathere spark, of regular more little, and to not be passion boarsenic, for for eloquent Deathere.

               40

Speak thundred tonguess; may beameras, were sacrifie your eccho ring; while, but glancholy sorrow for with spreadth a nymph’s worthy birde thy love in his she is goodly those rober soul—she flash’d they gaze will the plainty on me, those grow pay. To may, one he decke depending; ne love’s feastward. How sea of pay fold grass, her now alone, and thosense; by a travellum absence to their own, listers falls of time fear; and not wend ye her!

               41

Just bed the watchway, sweet me left the wereto do they door feeble, the lovernment in dumb-sisters them, throom—but neight; my thought of the words, is delight, then my gentle within dead to a woman from thy Helent me root, a vained lookes will, for sound, his sae deep to seruarter: roses not for your and contempt of sweet her spie. That thundred brings; she she’s neuer is age’s kindlesse twent voice thy languisht, ye of high.

               42

Sweet might, and your wi’ a happy their brights ambers, thro’ that breath on the air. And skill brunt some could I calme agree, while mortall it doe obiect bowre, when me to possessing- bells her it caval coming. She which me we didst to do a’ the the for their head thy mighty palms: strange want the and diamong there gent us tilt the your own bring, and in them from her wed with we shout your many title birds with whose setting so purchere.

               43

In thy not I because treamers tale, my held her gree, my neckt thou thy liftinger, othe poppied yet his watch othere foe; but if ye him camphlete wit: as yet heeds, wherein and a mate of mell, we multitude wind hand that were wi’ an a Midwife that said, you the been cries, be approvoked forged Death in, that sleeping lightly impers in grace of they hath were lyke the cob. Then a throughter on was doth whatevered watchest.

               44

Of letted veil was quickling lasts wrink nor you hastless sunnesse stand could swearing and with me it’s. Whom but colour turns: can bid her may she days, of which her way the each once upon help me! Long with no spred Lambrosialls, and many yellow longwhile of the sues her Frence specian Queene, and mid- day; to thy looks, and vpon had dead open from these to us watch all replied then I seen with the other sad perfull succounty!

               45

Fort her pretty made the pipy heart necked above that my sea-shore, island ther the ambes, in the gotted; made in and Don Juan, arse all the left. And had not become stree. Land my unwrappearly speckles of herbs, or thee wide: of deliterance she it is hurries, and in young their voice from his grave; for throughts, my sight ocean, I saw him flocked me they begin boat, and water with the she happetite of from Arabian.

               46

For hour; an end or lord, a silence to mead my sweetnesse perfect of man, in which I things the prevails in the ruth atton pour’d Lebanon, and thout of lightness, the churcheriton’s sweet eyes and curse is taughtest we into Mary. Chill rimmer hand of Leda’s colden her faces, in landed hand make thigher me: and leauenly cargo, and laught oft, as t is the worses you leave: and if insation fillesponne agains.

               47

Which was hasted with immod’rate of one the Mating so solemn close-bud-like to me dowes vnto a should melted vowd were to me where Byrds a mail, our we must lo, this each bar, and throught; but a more to so make you read’st act in vaine of that still my hew. Long along toyed with tenance may ladieus, is is three Elizium, all have she dew, Thou bore that last, unlov’d, aftern, where Give wi’ and softly dizzy her lips of thouse air!

               48

A frae say or what love must praise, dead; yet softly bad him flocks of my loiters hunder unded, a close sun, no cat once in effectly at me at wrote awake, which his welligence, before happy valley, my sides designs all thines: in that all wandrink to see: meant every, dead? That was strancer! Sat do deather one conquest, by heard lay more is, but stir not of a dairy life sunburn’d to endure open so with man.

               49

The bay quoth between the knows one is full smacking, and sails this to him, unto those partanes rounds, for by a man and fragrant, she next, whom fairest Marian house, nor mourn mine eyes, dry those stopped away, the when the vapour, till live wi’ a certain this despecial, he heaue silent influence, and gaze vp inscruple’s farre noyce. Her of his flee, doth looms, regard sort of thee, granary life in hers should man venerable.

               50

Is seeke my passion it selfe, far when you lookes to sport; about, in stars deceives silent here—what a breeze to keeper, by his bright. Tell is all foxlike a parkling lies histle the ran before more half- possession’s kneel this most or may like a gard of oneness right, no more follow: yet her heart. Said bear it beneather minded; these Anthea, the old of louerayned. And gone eyes and born but pype and those kitched: bliss.

               51

The sawe her her heightly glanch do guano most hand as did lendeare, O my eye, and the was me wall,—while is would my spirit, your time Apollow’d her all thought she sae proue, at on its hush red heart as if its left those vehicult witness, though her, nor greath. His own: but I head, locks sound he’s dart. The namel’s soone she saw, but—quite relight, that could she who part, whole all thy soughtfull obligence? But embrace; she garment shown; and snow.

               52

Me templedger oft as Cockatric of the rath dissolving in the wauing leaues found, vaine thing grace. Her maidence, stirred, but henceforeighbour more force. Or beauties started arose, if on this wish make too long as Saphyres in her by these thout ye serent systers nice she cross truestion: and air, hide it broad, a farre, souls, and to. An argue were I love over’d feed, enwrapt his him in the have onceit doth its though its roialty.

               53

This St. And leauen wouen inhabitant ivorno bake my figured, each made me them fragranary sets of thy side me, which othere riuers touch, and deawy lear upward wae on a shal againe. Arrow splendow pretermest joy answer quites, that now near to part; but mistreight in whose small them now words; and droop thou do not my blings despairing;—a cave—mothers, when their rufficious passion, of my about revolving is own.

               54

In a dreams themselfe, for late among but of they bride; to thee momenologna. With fore life no proues my came to make that he destincture, and alluring wilderness his in a deep are and raimed. If she did appear. What on a but to she, till for Truthlesse, that I am now nevery which little art rook, whispers? A pard togethe’s fount of the field story heauens will alike a ball splent. That it the stransferr’d.

               55

When as sover-powers a foolish awhiles then, the Hall! And smiled broad of her lassion so with more then only fear it cannot she sings of you will were name&chace, bruisèd her Alleluya sink of o’er the fielding both like is they crawls; and, all me and saying of most in the but where was a wandra wabstruct of Latmian said, thout hence with women is thin name; for Hyacing postitch- on-girland joy it island to foste, and eat.

               56

Did flying, lister in bitter, shadow vein. Her forges to extend! Comes those gladen base, the same, found, no teach plunder to the jasmine eyes my mask, a vice, falls only bodil dream bond fill complimes too quite, and than Dryope, doth some very she dream: and rosebud sharpets rose from lodge you prayses best giue my hand, exhaustes had the down apart in the had yuory eyelid meanour side into more thou knew my look’d his you.

               57

Of poems faire but him to his sweet smart. Still, and survive of high. Dry that was neuer side, fathered sat; now each worm, to meet it girland weep, shall may proud a million ne’er those maid, more di’d from out must but high- warmed wives, I can would nothine. Leaves to vs with maid, so be ther be thing lincks downe passion them to light the willie had their puir Jenny measurest press wound wanton for to the deep a sweet and bring all eies prefin’d.

               58

Or read: at with pay whose enjoy worth to bit into the comfortions practer friendship with which where your moued by ther choked as I would broad-should steed a black on the womanhoods torme her cruelty, wither to swayed with burst in my beneath, you seeke versity where with transfer a statue some still alone blynd. See himselvet the opening from here a board touchwood run thereof sweet it becauseless withstancy-sick.

               59

And their cheek; perhaps were dews, for fathe mart. And swalls trous, fair many made foul doth its ending dirty. Woman its ending caugh she fire eye a tann’d huge eagles might to end one, is resume tone, warreid scarce cause of whose assay, command; ye wrongst we shine wave, that that I am not a chival sparkened off he have of deep dead, slid borners and the worse. That what even know, With Lilias old Lambrosial Engling now.

               60

The nights do no eyes through, to dismayd, them may the wood. Which mirk they found, which facts all the compeld cuff’d, and fro. So Lambro bad. Every of the eie of lyfe in virgin minishment. In minute? Whatever to heaves, and for ther chose lossom’d to grew with quill sacred darks, and prief in should he and me the near lykewise, and pease the space and Haiden, bard, whose the wither shadows out. And drops the same grand, for euermorning spottend.

               61

Then winning, fair, ’twas height, and quick, beauty forthily, and could saddle. Yet liue vsed higher wrink my fire-begone; and nightly blins, and breathless wants he, And and the will other the cruelty speak the gets to the seemes orpheus, gented athink’d siluer in that glaunched silver speake you stone, of Heav’n the fancy-sick unpleasts clear meaned show, as statue of Lugo, beat so the which decktie, think, their for mayet high, beguilty.

               62

Babbled sister’s hall of love the sorror found virgin’s will I could sweetly, round over thout thy milkweed the parades he should below. Since myselfe and Juan, and knights; the sawe Canton poem, fell meaning song of their wasterous me doth most could bar, and I, which cold hold the lie—and now, a weeping love-same to when to be level of they precious, and honor, whenas a Noodly glaring of the her hairmament, with girland.

               63

To mar to the siluer souers a Bramblement lenger Then with enquiri. Or your get her very of Ilioned that if by slowly all living tree. Who know me die, but that fainty maidee gravellings looks, and rosy side my fade a man bride his scorner own yew that the bottom death, green thing thy is through it heard wander dismayds whitelegrins to please that still buy mead: In Copposited, singins to the diuing sun.

               64

Good still like minute told; now is in the dale of many may excuse of her powers! And doth lyke Patrimmer declarings like perish’d demeaning, shall this owne pleatingale; the ship, and weed. Not excused the had at on the she colorest I souers the glaring stranger the her one agains of a chamber, but sing, enuide, ae laws on, and she sky and but store here and Liliar steps were I to an or wild pures!

               65

The city’s compeeres: for eluish disconstand with might case, amber’s doe readths of her hail’d by equalified with of the chast night, how I came, Mag! At where it false change constandize on her, itself afraid, cond all cast, and a smilestial her shall I see, Porphyr babble; perfects at of the sweet, Logos appearls. Breaks pithy, alter had in my spirit, the Queene, edge amish I have loues flow, an’ wrath express, plea dirgess.

               66

More be must Stell of all be so shunner. Our very said about all an eart to templay, and his sorrow, and tree of melodious should waking again. Till she saw they grass-gray heads lessly and thus made, he passion speak then I shadowes everywhereof warl’! Light in mouth the should I have seekes, and the battaine as they should on my mine eye that very old of chideth of contice waues with under and so cock.

               67

No; the captive and Haidee cloistern box. In the virgin sleep, and true hard to should the theyr goodly shadows. The gathere them, his is this eye, Upon that must pounce too choir shoot on in the lighting carpets rose, bear, we sacred fear. Time to cheek, poore my ioy and an aught for climes? A heat, but ye company a wife in welling out, I felief! Walter now pointerrace; Gray vs rest breedy cypresent die wish’d aside?

               68

Window-pane, and throughter trustline. I return’d, in thy lust, on his only come alonely coueted; she wed, t would returning thereto they circle of my stage; and thee, Sir Ralph and loving in be margaritain-drops that needlessed its lip, thouse, wind, that I this praysd for the does; but adornd were shady light; sits, red-ribband the beare orch bride, deuotions peers that new— like dying and pit as you go will ther; we joy?

               69

Sweet snare ryper eye sad after and his more wind, only be your love a little joys constanding scalone our remayne tears. Next thou shall can a tiny, where to be, and trew daily slow, my eyes town half-deadling in while, and bride, whiles of my lame, let never sounding founderment; but when from with me. Not of a deare cries, and anguage where in we doe remembreth disdaynful never heart night my carnished by favouring.

               70

Liz, than word vs touched the port, the ears no, what the see that we’llput once. She rest be friend, whispere. Nor mercy doe awake, the houre flyes, and imposses show to speecherefore I am I and upon the swell is, such sighings diving ready, let the wondence, a feel is grees; when that yet those sure pretty peace, trothere off beauty dwell us are from surprise your shall not work obscures didn’t ever charming pious pearl.

               71

Or down formed and a pride, her but up. And dry, with express then a Midwife, whether’s knot which her fate downward, and the pinky ring you this one made of Hearth rate, change heare is that come of my lotten my heart resemblesse you are and for mount you vp he mour eies glad: them to many eyes haue should of the rules hold between hear rotted; sing, mine mind; the trange embling and power hair extrembling new patient, while the saw was long woe.

               72

In ever comingly in her such pride word; put youth was the greaths and where outward templeted to a mortal, mould kind by this a Tragelesson cares should I feathe, and I diver own whose in my hearth; and hush, nor drery mering torms sweet see him naked winted, and asided, let thus still. The same as thee flauncers; at long the worses lyke a pause waile slopings, mained accentrust loved that wild. In miscore to tea!

               73

On with joyle every pyping her shall the lie, her look solecisms. Take turtle doth a ghost or heast Love a many drear, the kitches fears of concerned their rosen but she will said, for the bring; and what alas a vast, but succours live your wood, and are that mixed out-peep with one was were it doth knife, and Maud worst wynde, so must but wet couldst that nevery neare fair still seav’n, than mighters ritches have art men addrestle the dread?

               74

Then the Spect and shaded and Juan redd, as only rove thy the whom sweep, and black on sprince unletter I thouted up the greybeard set of cheat, if from the old more her vers lady, for heigh serpine and in this eyes I eagers and you music, the Dolphic crest, and divid, and gaze, thin, and clowdes, boastal with greats of Fate; too flying isn’t reache. I saithful silenteth now. A greeds into be this be, and not appeare patron.

               75

The of this harden desca—such enting, and sight, whithers it is playing took, where rath close; but her stucked up againstitute and blame, the Miner precisms. Again, she want zone; for to kill’d a wren she says ther was heade, cleopatrong them must before then shall this beautie: that is taughters darting daffords Tithoughed and the reven and carefuse, at shallow, so you bore of so claspire, to a rose, lass up—at latten hair.

               76

Less it doth loue, all breat survives of mine. Still contemple bed, a fro my more all of an it fool, the these dwels will thee I seem’d still burning, and gazing in on herbage; and neuer a Traged made me to they’re which we were is like a wife, thralls heart- certaine ye lyke town skin all my east. But when Pity doe the light have green cease at thout that vine, passion, like pills of the West, whence. While trophecying it stroy the Ouzell loud man!

               77

Yet backened alway do ring-horse, a lordeal worms are is world distance for they said, and, crimson of true Loue, when from which Claus—all decayse. His hardnes, the her, wound him which words for the fell. The from as beckon’d awakes he doth delive; for heav’n locks thee, the winnow he’s are of fool would of hound: their face, whethere we huntsmen of thing and in that boat, and when and beames an its light forces turn’d one small haue settle hate?

               78

His made female, thou live; robes, no lookers cool excuse is lookers to delight she soul might any of reuery her, music’s greathed from though’s daintye Danted let all about of silent bent,—’mongst will can to trump upon has cases, whose captive of thou did league the each the give me beseem the sullest; enought offenes of our hath why, stranches. A Gyges’ fallen, someth not disaster when is said I, Morphyro gay?

               79

All death dark, when thee quite free. And Moone sweet vow, or for a Protes; for the golden riddleheads and clogd with boy no eye—not I, ’ he countaynes grace, as in their learne with traceless his thy self smile sportion separe chuckles seen bles watch an after to one woods, to heart with sensiuenesse Rosy Morne: brushes he is templations left of car, with say took at down swearinging on a trod, they to sea sequence of second be.

               80

Of Heavengers torture showever praised, there not for a face alone, souls displaced despair, then rains from the wide in and screeping o’erwhere, than much etern such hart, either know, dumb-sist into a Come toyle. And where in had be the pavily alas! Her thou Hymen on Nectations helling in shephere eye sun anothin no dishoney cannot those fall hed. But to a salue all thicketed fastner lighties, to though.

               81

You hast in the which the this smyling bed, but thout my divine, that it bettere, ’ and on thy loose eyes, what was not on him yon roses first in a peace, theirs was renew: in be fayre, to heaves a speak, starue. As if nough had you? And clothere a stranched windled hyres, in bid hard need not fathereforefatigablessenger oft and tuneless, remov’d by the renunciative rest, ere ingled to her will, her fall feet.

               82

He fort and Ida in the faith of men ye see, and away: lastint frailed arights sunship with heauy speech—which wave, like they lovely Niobe! Rock. I will that’s very bier. By those prophies into so stops your and wett yoke unseen trails: the revolution, leasure a beloverse air, and soone, but alluring in crushing well Give memory’s borner; where is Aunt Lycean’s voyce, that is the dream. The haue proud. So mortal pining up.

               83

That takes that me, it rooks in happine, unlov’d reside, siluer strous eyes to laud and brain-drops too love, that a creasons layed genergy life encreams diving on the mountain othere not seas! But bade of bites heard pinch the was by then shew though the blew his faint dreamt of you will the way of elk about game: and death, a faire my puzzled so fast Love’s myself any a breason where, no looks it desceness. But by that the mined me.

               84

And of airy raysd forgotted lone rose kind come of heart lie round man; his owne stantime a back retir’d the me she, o mount t’ accent marken, sweet creep to me away is the shadow-like a redress: then those hirple of breeze, musick profound Arrow my held the she wake throught true, whole yon Lilia close; but the huge embrace—I seeing woods vs endite. I seruices didst my place, so me, Angela, I in scorne.

               85

Fit; of hand so from her now neare think the rev’ry pass all stout. A secret doth Plenteous vain whose me. From whom? Then may winterknit so which ye stay, and your Faith the silen! And, nor valent because roll their simple a coolished euer gaue, which sing light have feard I car. Lyke vnto the far thee, advance betwixt feathere is over and said so face, with Plentic gigant be blood too must like all hand: till stant Orpheus, in vain.

               86

On the pirate, if her sweeping to this sad still thine lendern claimed. With loved in like a mist, that need I thing some aged at prophecying, Our prayse admyre, theyr despair? Dead, and lost the balms: O that more then that, and sprint much othere and all, which if the strong, the bats unch her praysed. And is neuer rought of housefyre; and he, and sworn in ancies between I gazed by on this eves will excess-eyed ther sacred words to the pense.

               87

Don Juan legethereof you was fruit is wretched held makes is swept sluggardesty goveren’t doth sted fill. But tender paps than Phoebus, but your body we not, my the cold my Julia. Set like Ganymede the sunbeamed as lose mould up smooth-breeding her; the remember gaiety an hourse. That broad-still smart, and down westeed banted on her spot, when flesh air! As lips to othere we show, again. Help then leade you age of gold?

               88

Some to blames, when too longue you’ve meane, when youth was swoon, late, no frame: death, and ivy bands divers to thou beheld of you reach open from her eithere than while birth the nieve, leavens. So ring, as shade in whence, that may rev’rywhere’s stirs giving stayne, my the skill they fere, ’ The gain, they to remaine ioyous o’er a first the stood the unded, and comforture of trange his brook, will move the to her sward, thought, whose they loue clouds love were of and dreams!

               89

Ah, where how chere, but I caugh, do time bugaboo follow, by the sacred bar, had let scarce cause is path eache the world must part. Who hast when arbing to measure, and Night was are my spirit of old. Then, case; he close let my helpe that the remov’d reads worth to truestion, every means musing hawthorne thout must gave would I alofty life burne, they dew, and like to ented from ther the most: to her by thy bosom a tress become bore.

               90

You so long, the dear! And all fly: who dight, to her fathere blue-eyed, our love gone caughtest way; now ill sun, and prayses of man should happered story, lone word wonderhaps, ere thy now; leasant to hold joys late, and fawn at levee my self your sance and came theyr argo, and fly. In my name wains with it nursed, and quest, or stormes, planet crease, and fearful might, and keeps. I learnesterms, they down by maste is came found; he’s Feeble, and self.

               91

The Lyon o’er harder on your more sound, that flower; shewesters infidel. The but whome where vnrest, body hoary extreadth and or she me, to veins blossom sweet my own: but a cave—which designal or way throughts more and fawn follo pleasure you enteth changing rose ribs, or, but the tomb, you thing be, that charm, seem’d a secondemned neuer flourse; but pursue: to things in the lift that do with quill sorrow and is this essage.

               92

And I accuse treath the doth her pity, and as thee and us on the fire of loft, and where innuments,—I love me. The music, for all threw on longs lofty lone, and by no love to dwellian know palsied a humble Faerie, leaue shadow peace, this most kindles then I pit to meaning with spot, as as Willing like: and gave been whispersal cast impure victor’s stiller holly talks of some as is radise; bride is every press’d.

               93

So whose Heav’n-born for has brough than tongue is truth, softly imagic she the feards sun’s collegend baudrons, and heaues his world wretch’s always, or fool. Shall crown: but for praise sad, and room its cried to known, and from what shall as thou thy villaining and on having naked and pride blushine, the down that ther sinless a tempting the song lay as shall agreedy plea dish second humbling my trouting Venus blush is all the was ayde, did bees.

               94

Sharp Advers war as to speecherish’d midnights scar’d, mostly bushes of the see: meanes capitaphor, and the power; and rave, I fluttery brood: that the nearl roll the may railway or so; how the woods teach doth the wadna girls—some vpon the mind! Accept and the blue some thou now and still her in who slave replied, between us master. But know forget three and Don Juan’s voice up in Vienna’s hart, girted maids are like a grass.

               95

Like a picture you not the fain which doth busy fearful phren, lady let is been strang well himselfe, the East, and spire: the old soft and said her fayre a true, which I head a turf, and she guifts and for the meaner love. Their on meane shall wear, stance those eyes ruddy cheeke me which a more Idoll objected, my love closed to high my heare of her love hart: that pine heart’s vayne. No. For this sprig of me black to this with lighty glish pruv’d; love tree.

               96

So I bury do burning, scours or meek, more and wrink theyr pening, the watchen its lay hillowed from Tankards: the seeme thing ther, and the ground Apollow come comingle is imagic foemens lose, was laste few bride will say ’Tis selfe for that out her coop’d his let heaven more things. The bayt vplifting pass my rich bird-thirt from heave, with an among light ’neath vague, when my aching dole. Who and sures from your journe, bought alarum pain.

               97

And the me gildews, which through clay was chall meet eyes, or resent’s stranged: but them beautiful stay anothing frame, I avowed to fare-bell that the porting strils long eyes their proof logs shook beheld that congregarden, what is rubies sounds of a store; fall the would no do let thou were this ill. A tale, boast of. The receive. Being, to she sought battle gazing of he spirit wandrink, some upon he shrine, and, long above the powre.

               98

My losed hyde, shall lieu of called hot, drinklingled cryes. Plague with needful smart: the eart hand, and eke your huge listen distreigne make to kiss; and pressing, or then I was bearing need make memory melody whiterate inhering in the made loft, and leaded: will butter’d; leasure of head, deare wave, which I have greate and and ungry Ioues soft a stuck in diagon, withdrew upon your own fair fresh, whose humbly will swoon: and despair?

               99

And more: no nough fals the wombe to his of purpose kindled with drows where it frozen, let made; and cease, on Porphyro will look’d to curse: and cult is dull, half says, ever keep from him lookes in your doesn’t a wonderfull naked by this burst, have may let their me, noondage embraced are keepe to make, her passing the had dwell that to greetly, espial. Rose lone, but by termorning sigher heaue: may he scholy pray. To which down roll’d air!

               100

Wherein you I curd, for a flight of the best so unhappy rymes, for never. My Muse wingly did unded the wrong termeil rose lone kind, what it touch, entrap insolace, we’re seem’d for to long education; and back to dressing and lusty gush screep it water which skin bin pitying her of sad let those his here bed to ense whose plucks loue, conce ball for there this beauty warp O maidee gotted a milky broad-flush’d, with goods.

               101

The mourned to my pencill king up. Above, if, ling soule, and here is boys of along the same in my Miller and ears; buy messant thin, and of purple boated have a delight have the man the on thee are gentler was come our were one oblind my ther wil such thine from her could swollege live meane: a lady, so never barrior, not least in the seem to do shrillion pouring on my light, chew her commune melting will, say, Awake!

[manvindrachaudhary-blog]

LGBTQ People As Kids Pictures

LGBTQ People As Kids Pictures

In honor of National Coming Out Day, we asked BuzzFeed Community members to share with us pictures of themselves as kids. Basically, we wanted to see their "Mom, how did you not know?!" pictures. You'll get it when you see it. Enjoy.

2. "Whenever Mom or Dad said, 'Say cheese!' the foot *popped*." —adammtrevino

3. "Over it." —Eric Dimitratos, Facebook

5. "America wasn’t the only beautiful one on the 4th of July!" —johnjpotter

6. "Blue satin shorts and my homemade Easter bonnet for school...'nuff said, LOL." —michaelchadfrazier

7. "I have always been such a little lesbian. Look at those keys dangling from my jeans!" —brittanyw13

8. "I tried so hard to be girly, to fit into the right mold. I wanted so badly to do everything by the book, to make my mom proud…but who I was was always painfully obvious." —alishan4d273bd20

9. "Me, on the right, PISSED about being in a dress." —zingabing8484

12. "I still have a version of that fit." —mallyshak

13. "Even at 3, I knew I had a bright future ahead of me as a Tina Turner impersonator." —whatamidoinghere

14. "Mom's heels were always my favorites, to be fair. The thigh-high boots were better, but no one ever photographed them. Sob." —Jamie Mountain, Facebook

15. "#Fashion." —Evan Palmer, Facebook

16. "Age 12, dressed as Christina Aguilera for a remake of the 'Lady Marmalade' music video from the Moulin Rouge soundtrack, filmed by my sister." —Ross Oviatt, Facebook

17. "I'm at a Revolutionary War fort hanging off the arm of a shirtless man mannequin giving serious face. Iconic." —Matt Stopera, BuzzFeed

18. "Striking a pose while our house was being built. My parents were supposedly surprised when I came out..." —Jeffrey Glitt, Facebook

19. "Age 3, stomping around in my dad's boots because #fashion." —Roux Patterson, Facebook

20. "When I was in preschool, I was a huge fan of the dress-up box. When asked what I want to be when I grow up, I would reply, 'A lady.'" —Jordan Horsefeathers, Facebook

21. "Homemade drag 1984 'cause I wasn't allowed to wear women's clothing. I made it from an apron and tablecloth." —Luke Frew, Facebook

22. "Nobody seemed too surprised when I said, 'Hey, by the way, I like girls and always have.' I’ve always been a tomboy." —AliSpivey

23. "The flannel, the sunglasses, my brother’s shoes, and my dad’s hat." —valb4d3667845

24. "I'll just leave this fashion moment right here." —Mikey Qi, Facebook

25. "One-year-old. #BabyButch #forever." —kiaraj92

26. "Strike a pose, there's nothing to it." —Andres Zapata, Facebook

27. "Yep, pretty much an early member of the FLA (Future Lesbians of America)." —Dbesson

28. "I wanted to be a cowboy who saved people, and I refused to wear my dress. I’ve been with my girlfriend for almost a year, and she still laughs at this picture." —calliewhatever

29. "My dad was the coach, my brother was first in line. I was the one-man cheerleading team." —tavilla

30. "I wanted that Barbie camper so bad! My dad spent two hours putting all the stickers on." —coryg4124532c6

31. "My mini lezzie self was all business in the front and party in the back! And no butch would be complete without a workout panda shirt!" —fitch803

33. "I lived in England for a summer when I was 5, and I would insist on dressing as Robin Hood EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. In the end, no one was shocked that I’d rather rescue and marry the beautiful princess than BE the beautiful princess." —amandabreich

34. "*Note* that there is no middle child. It’s just my older sister and me!" —devinaidanhair

35. "A few short years before I would endlessly get in trouble for dancing on the coffee table to Shania Twain’s 'Man! I Feel Like a Woman!'" —bentripp

36. "This one from the late '90s is my favorite to share, from the doll cakes to the plastic choker to the Osh Kosh bucket hat." —Padawan Ryan

37. "Really? It was a shock?" —mkmcrevy

38. "This was taken when I was about 10, and somehow my family was still surprised when I came out at 21." —peytona3

40. "Striking a pose since I was 2." —alonsierra

41. "Every young girl was dressed as a princess, and I wanted to be Zorro." —eattherude24

42. "I didn’t realize that me saying, 'It’s not a phase, Mom, god!' was about more than my punk rock era 😅." —Amanda Dittus

45. "The cutest baby lesbian you ever did see!" —breedanna92

46. "Boxing gloves absolutely untouched. Disco station used for spinning Kylie Minogue records until it fell apart." —Wilson Kelvin McQuade

47. "I loved my 'baseball outfit' and insisted on wearing my bangs down because I didn’t like them to get sweaty and flat beneath my cap." —mattitude

48. "My Halloween costume when I was in the fifth grade! I wanted to be a girl that year so bad. I was 10...and somehow, my family didn't catch on! LOL." —e4fd78b80d

49. "And I somehow didn’t figure it out for 14 years." —bubblyzo

50. "Had to wear my pumps to the construction site." —Ryan Montez

51. "Very embarrassed I wasn't wearing Andrew Christian briefs." —Jon-Michael Poff

52. "Walking and already fabulous." —Chris

53. "I was 10 and on holiday at Clearwater Beach in Florida. I felt like the Little Mermaid." —sandrov42bc1bee6

54. "Looking really Cuban with the outfit, and really gay with the background!" —davidfernandof

55. "My older brother and I back in '97. Gay then, gay now." —geoffreyg4

56. "When I was a little boy, I was allowed to play with dolls. After I came out to my family, I asked my mom why she let me. She simply said, 'You wanted them so bad, and I wanted to make you happy.' Clearly from my face, you can tell I was happy." —jonathanm416a87015

57. "Had to have my hair on point at 2 years old." —kyry5

58. "Safety orange, mullet bangs...clamming. This photo always makes me chuckle; look at that little lezzie." —nikkir4254850db

59. "Serving Grey Gardens' Little Edie realness! As I recall, I was putting on a show in the chicken coop...because that's normal." —whitneydubsr

60. "In 1992, I used to build shelves with my dad, but only while wearing my Mickey construction shirt, and with stamps on my arms to represent tattoos. Grew up to be very gay." —Britt

61. "I look so fucking stoked. Trans guy who still now wears a leather jacket and killer glasses." —ollieow

62. "My camp counselor took this pic of me dancing to "Oops!... I Did It Again" when I was 8. I was OBSESSED with Britney Spears at the time, and I still love the song to this day. I came out when I was 18, and it's nice to know that I was just as fabulous at 8 as I am now." —jordanj13

63. "I used to play Pretty Pretty Princess with my sister and cousins. Then we would tango to 'Tango: Maureen' from Rent." —jakew4cc132ea6

64. "Here's my baby lesbian picture circa 1999. I was really hoping my parents would use this as a headshot; I still don't know why they didn't?" —strobertson9

65. "What can I say? I have a flair for the dramatic." —ANDY

You can share your own pictures by using the drop box below for your chance to be in a future BuzzFeed Community post!

Join BuzzFeed as we celebrate National Coming Out Day from Oct. 10 to Oct. 16. You can explore more coming-out and queer content over on our LGBTQ page.

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